Chapter Text
The kingdom is bustling. Princess Uraraka’s sixteenth birthday is fast approaching and everyone is getting ready for the big ball being thrown in her honour, an event where the most elite of pretenders would gather to gain her favour and, they hoped, her hand in marriage. Even if that was not the ball’s specifically advertised purpose, the carriages filing in from relatively distant kingdoms with kings, queens and princes left no room for doubt.
Izuku watches the banners flapping in the gentle breeze with bright eyes, looking out of the window of the tiny shop. Ingenium, Endeavor, and that one over there… Yuuei. All Might didn’t have a son, that Izuku knows of, yet his banner flies high and proud among the many others, and he can’t help but lean closer, his nose gluing to the glass pane. Stories of brave rides into battle fill his thoughts, a bellowing laugh inspiring the troops that followed behind the regal figure of All Might, a bright smile shining amidst the bloodshed and loss, a beacon of hope for those still standing, leading them to victory after victory.
He’s taken away from his embezzled fantasies when his mother nudges his shoulder.
“Izuku, please, I know you’re excited for the ball, but we have so many orders, we can’t spare a single moment.”
“Of course, mother. Sorry.” Izuku follows her into the back, the many gowns still left to finish for all the noble ladies attending the ball hanging off racks and doors alike, the tiny space almost not enough to handle all the frilly fabrics and long trains covering nearly every surface. “You took more orders than you could handle again.”
“You know how it is, we need the money and the princess’ sixteenth birthday is the event of the decade. We can’t afford to turn down any of them.”
With a sigh, Izuku picks up a needle and thread and continues adding the finishing touches to the gown he’d been handling before.
---
By the time Izuku finishes the last stitch, he’s nothing short of exhausted, his vision unfocused and his body aching from the absolutely horrid posture he’s been keeping to get everything done as fast as possible. He’d planned on making himself a suit to maybe go to the ball himself, get a glimpse of All Might and, who knows, even talk to him. But with everything else going on, helping his mother with the gowns, running the shop and tending to the house chores while she’s busy, Izuku was left with no time and absolutely no energy to do such a thing.
It’s disheartening. The ball is tonight and there is no chance of him getting his hands on anything anywhere near nice enough to wear to such an event. He’d be barred by the entrance to the castle grounds for looking like, well, a peasant. Izuku slumps into his chair with a huff.
The tiny bell above the front door rings and he immediately gets to his feet, expecting to see someone to pick up a gown for their lady. He’s met instead with a pair of narrowed crimson eyes and spiked blond hair.
“Kacchan?”
His childhood friend drops something on the table with a grunt. “The old hag insisted I bring this to you. Thinks I’m some sort of errand boy or some shit. Tch.”
“H-huh?”
“Whatever nerd, just take it. I’ve got better things to do.”
Katsuki leaves before Izuku has even the chance to thank him, let alone look at whatever it is that he brought him. He is left looking after his friend, a bit dumbfounded and not entirely sure what to think.
It takes a moment for him to actually get back to reality from his scrambled thoughts, unwrapping the paper bundle Katsuki had left behind. Izuku pauses, his fingers brushing over velvety green fabric, breath catching in his throat as he carefully starts pulling it out.
A lime green jacket with pink lining hangs from his hands, several round pearl buttons sewn to its front and on the large folded cuffs as well as the large pockets on each side. Intricate embroideries cover the shoulders and, when Izuku turns the jacket, he sees that they continue all the way down to half its back, twisting this way and that, almost like vines wrapping around it and continuing onto the two large pleats below.
Carefully placing the jacket down on the table, he takes out the vest, striped in the same colours as the jacket but in a glossy silk instead. He can’t stop himself from turning the garment over in his hands, inspecting each and every line, tracing the stitching with calloused fingertips, his heart beating hard at the careful attention to detail.
He expected nothing less from Bakugou Mitsuki, to be fair, but he is still more than a little astonished. How in the world did she find the time to make this? She must have had double the work we did, if not triple, given her popularity.
Exhausted or not, Izuku doesn’t have it in him to beat down the excitement and the overwhelming urge to pick up the whole package, still folded breeches and tights included, and run to the back to strip and try it all on. He doesn’t know how Mitsuki did it without once coming to him, but everything fits perfectly, accentuating all the right assets and giving him an almost royal look. Izuku can’t fully believe it, actually wondering if he fell asleep and this is all just one very unrealistic dream.
“Oh my goodness, Izuku…” He nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of his mother’s voice, turning around with a frightened yelp. “You look… so handsome… Mitsuki really did a wonderful job, didn’t she?”
“Y-you knew about this?”
“I may have played a hand in it… I thought we could spare a few earnings for all the help you gave me. And besides, she was very nice with the pricing…”
“Mom,” Izuku starts choking back tears.
“Hush now. The ball starts soon. You should get going, no?”
Izuku shifts from one foot to another, anxiousness bubbling deep in his gut. “Will they even let me in?”
As if on cue, the front bell chimes and his mother rushes out to aid whoever had just come in. He follows shyly after, spying Lady Yaoyorozu from behind the door frame. She smiles at him when she sees him, waving politely, and he does the same.
She’s there to pick up her gown, one of many Izuku has worked on himself. She’s one of their oldest costumers, one that he’s extremely fond of seeing as she actually treats him and his mother with respect, unlike some annoyingly stuck up nobles. When he finally steps out, she lets out a small gasp.
“Midoriya-san… That is stunning craftsmanship. Did you make it yourself?”
“I wish I could be half this talented at anything at all.” Izuku laughs a little, smoothing the fabric of the pants with his hands running down the front of his thighs.
“Nonsense, your gowns are among my favourite.” He can’t stop the little blush that crawls to his cheeks at the comment. “So, you’re going to the ball then?”
Izuku shrugs. “I’m not sure I’d be let in. Fancy dress or not, I’m still nothing more than a seamstress’ son.”
“You can come with me. If anyone questions your presence, you’re my personal guest.”
“Y-Yaoyorozu-san! Please, I could never be such a bother to you!”
“You are no such thing. Consider it a thank you for livening up my wardrobe.”
This time, Izuku can’t stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks, gratitude overflowing in his heart at the young lady’s kindness.
---
Once they’ve actually made it into the castle grounds, Lady Yaoyorozu leaves him to go find someone Izuku isn’t familiar with but she seems to be very excited about meeting. He gets the notion that her enthusiasm may run a little deeper than an encounter with merely a good friend and finds himself smiling. She deserves whatever happiness this person brings her and he hopes there is a bright future ahead of them.
As soon as he takes in the large staircase leading up to the castle, a confusing mix of excitement and overwhelming anxiety takes hold of his heart, sending it into a frenzy of such calibre he’s afraid he might faint. There are people all around him, nobles, and Izuku suddenly feels incredibly out of place and suffocated. Not even the possibility of seeing All Might in all of his glory somewhere in the main hall is enough to rid him of the unease, maybe even making it all that much worse, if he’s honest.
His breaths becoming short and ragged, Izuku walks off to a less crowded place, finding a small garden by the right wing of the castle where he leans against an exceptionally large decorative vase to steady himself. He tries to calm his breathing and his rapidly raising heartrate alike, running his free hand through his hair. Izuku takes a few moments to just breathe by himself, go through all of the things that could go wrong and dismiss them with a half-hearted reasoning that he’s overreacting like usual. He’ll go in, he’ll see All Might, maybe meet some nice people, eat some food, have some drinks, dance. Nothing will go wrong.
With a deep breath, he adjusts his jacket, still astonished at how well it fits and how comfortably it sits on his shoulders, and turns around to make his way into the castle…
…and promptly walks right into someone.
Izuku hears a yelp and can’t help the shriek that sounds from him in return, holding the person by their arms so that they aren’t bounced to the floor from the impact.
“Oh goodness, I am so sorry I didn’t mean to-” Izuku’s words die on his tongue when the person recovers from the incident and straightens up, adjusting the tiara on her head. That’s the princess. He just almost threw the princess onto the ground. He squawks. “Your royal highness!”
“That’s quite alright I wasn’t really looking where I was go-” she pauses when Izuku backs away and lowers himself to his knees, apologising for his disrespect. She waves a hand dismissively, “please, stand up, you’ve done nothing wrong. Wait, actually…” She crouches down in front of him, daintily lifting his chin with one gloved hand, and Izuku almost chokes. “You’re perfect.”
Before Izuku can even process what’s happening, princess Uraraka takes the tiara from her head and places it onto his, sporting a mischievous grin he momentarily thinks he wasn’t even aware royalty was capable of. He doesn’t know what is going on, let alone what he’s actually supposed to do, so he just freezes as she straightens the small band and secures it on his hair.
“There we go. I can’t stand this awful goose chase for a husband poorly disguised as a ball in honour of my birthday. I already know who I want to marry and it is none of these idiots. As long as you don’t go near my parents or the guard, you should be fine, entertain these buffoons for me if they find you. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Izuku can only blink as she speaks with a sweet smile, cheeks pink and voice melodious. But it’s the devious glint in her eye that throws him off so badly he can hardly think, left with his jaw hanging halfway down to the ground and a dumb look on his face as she runs off somewhere he is in no way privy to.
He loses track of time as he just sits there, trying to make sense of what just transpired and coming up short of any answers whatsoever. Eventually, Izuku actually gathers that he should probably get up and go look for the princess, return the tiara before he’s caught with it and accused of treason… Or something along those lines. But then again, wouldn’t it be treason to refuse the princess’ order? She didn’t say please, that was definitely not a friendly request.
Just as he’s done dusting off his breeches, still a little dazed, and starts reaching for the tiara – can’t exactly walk around with something like that on his head, now can he – he hears someone call for his attention and freezes all over again. This is it, I’m going to get thrown into the dungeons and sentenced to death for kidnapping the princess and stealing her tiara. Even though she literally gave it to me and I have no idea where she went. As if anyone will believe that.
“Excuse me.”
Izuku faces the caller when they speak once more, breath hitching when his gaze lands on a head of snow-white and fire-red hair, split perfectly down the middle, that falls over mismatched blue and grey eyes, a scar covering the former. The young man is dressed in a long navy-blue vest, with gold accents and straps running down it, over a loose white shirt with a pleated collar, leather straps around his shoulders that give a very imposing air about him. Prince Todoroki Shouto, son of King Todoroki Enji, heir to the throne of Endeavor.
His gaze is fixed on Izuku’s head, on the royal family’s crest that sits at its front, and, for a moment, he thinks that the prince is going to call the guards to apprehend him. He steps closer and Izuku has to resist the urge to take a step back, not wanting to incriminate himself any further by running.
“I wasn’t aware that the princess had a brother.”
“B-brother?” Izuku is so shocked by the suggestion that he hardly even remembers to deny it. But we look nothing alike.
The prince bows before him and Izuku sputters, his eyes widening with panic. When the princess said they were all idiots he didn’t think she was being serious. What is he thinking, of course the crown prince of Endeavor isn’t an idiot he’s probably just messing with him before he hands him over to the royal guard.
“Would it be too forward for me to request your company for the rest of the evening, your highness?”
Your highness?! Izuku may as well be dying, he sure feels like he is. His face is much too hot, is he blushing or actually catching fire?
“I-I… That’s…” He stumbles on his words and prince Todoroki looks up, one fiery eyebrow lifting up on his forehead, no doubt growing suspicious of his very un-princely behaviour. The princess told him to entertain anyone who might find him, she told him to, so he must obey her orders. “Yes, that would be quite alright.” What am I doing?
There’s a hint of a tug on the corner of the prince’s mouth and Izuku’s heart skips several beats. I’m just doing as I was told, I’m just doing as I was told.
“Wonderful. May I?”
Izuku stares dumbly at the extended hand, long and slender fingers awaiting to wrap around his own. He swallows around the lump that has formed in his throat, shaking hand coming to gently lay over the prince’s. I’m touching his hand, oh dear lord, I’m touching his hand. It’s cold, almost icy to the touch. I wonder if the colder weather is affecting him, Endeavor is usually so much warmer than Uravity, could it be he’s having a hard time adjusting to the lower temperatures? Perhaps he would feel more comfortable inside the castle but that would mean I would have to-
“Do not fret, that’s just how my hands usually are. I’m much happier here, away from prying eyes and tiresome faces. Aren’t you, your highness?”
Izuku startles at the realisation that he’d started mumbling his thoughts, his free hand coming to cover both his mouth and his ever-flaring cheeks, and he can’t help but avert prince Todoroki’s gaze. He is equal parts embarrassed and terrified of what could have happened had he said anything else, but luckily the prince only seems to pick up on the first fact.
“If, by chance, I am making you uncomfortable…” He trails off, and Izuku dares a glance at his face, finding him looking almost shy.
He had heard tales of the beauty of the crown prince, that even the scar upon his face did nothing to tarnish the almost angelic looks he was said to have gotten from his mother despite the fact that no one had seen her for almost a decade. He always thought those were rumours, built up by bright-eyed young maidens with dreams of marrying a prince, or even by the kingdom of Endeavor itself, to boost up its popularity among others. How wrong he was, how true the rumours proved to be. If not for the fact that Izuku thinks he might actually be an idiot to think he is a prince himself, he might have started to believe in love at first sight. Which isn’t to say he’s not at least swooning a little.
“No, of course not…” He finds himself breathing out, voice sounding the tiniest bit dreamy.
“Shall we walk together?”
“By all means.”
Izuku has never been so grateful for all the hours he spends in the library, learning about anything and everything in hopes of one day leaving his mother’s shop to see the worlds he’s read about. As the night goes on he picks up bits and pieces of information, safely stored away in his mind for whenever he might find a use for them, and talks to the prince about it all while he just nods along to anything Izuku has to say. At times, Izuku thinks he might be talking the other’s ear off, that he ought to shut up and listen instead of ramble but he’s beyond nervous and, when he’s nervous, he rambles.
Yet, in the times when prince Todoroki does speak, there’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips that sends Izuku’s heart into overdrive. Everything he has to say is intelligent and opportune, and though he doesn’t speak much or very often, all of it serves to show the vast knowledge he actually carries with him. Prince Todoroki is smart, Izuku concludes after a few hours of wandering the gardens, alone, undisturbed, simply talking about this and that. Science, literature, art, politics…
Izuku may be a little infatuated. Which is bad, really bad.
Especially because he is wearing the princess’ tiara. Especially because the prince thinks he’s royalty. Especially because he really isn’t.
I’m so screwed.
His heart starts pounding even harder the longer they stay together and Izuku keeps thinking of what in heavens he’s going to do to get out of this awful mess. It’s quite obvious the prince is trying to court him because he – somehow, like seriously, they look nothing alike – thinks Izuku is actually the princess’ brother. He thinks that by winning his favour there might be something to gain out of it: a throne, a large fortune, something. But Izuku has nothing, is nothing.
This is wrong, this is so wrong. I’m dead. There is no way this doesn’t end with my head on a spike. Whether it be Endeavorean or Uravitian, now that is the real question. I need to end this, to stop it before it spirals even more out of control. The prince seems kind, maybe he’ll understand and accept to only take me as a slave and spare my mother the pain of having to watch me die in a public execution.
“Your highness,” Prince Todoroki interrupts his train of thought and Izuku looks up into mismatched eyes, lit by the moonlight and shining with something he can only pinpoint as determination. “Marry me.”
Izuku gapes. “E-eh?”
“Oh, goodness. Now this is definitely an outcome I did not see coming.”
Izuku jumps at the sound of princess Uraraka’s voice, turning on his heel with a very undignified squeak, unbecoming of a man his age, let alone a prince. He’s not sure he’s more terrified by the prince’s request or the princess’ terribly amused smirk.
I’m definitely screwed.