A/N: Here's something I consider a fun fact, this story was originally meant to be a comedy. But during the initial writing of the chapter one's first draft one thing lead to another and here we are. Another fact, I wanted to drop Izuku off in a typical Isekai world, use Truck-Kun to send him there and everything. I bring this up because the use of "in another world" was meant to play up the joke for that chapter; "a picnic date in another world?!" or "adopting a dog in another world!" et cetera. Do you think I should drop the "in another world" from the chapter titles or does it not bug you as much as it does me?
A Wannabe Hero In Another World!
Chapter 5: Really Just Another Day In Another World
Izuku pulled an end of his scarf up and past his lips to wipe away the beads of sweat gathering on his forehead, careful not to pull too hard on the thin faded yellow fabric. His hand trembling as he stepped away from the fallen tree and feet crying in relief as he fell onto his rear. The sun was nearly gone from the sky and most of the other servants that were part of the lumber crew had finished or been called away which meant he got to enjoy the quiet woodlands for just a little bit. His "fresh" clothes—courtesy of Aurelius Vandergraff expressing his generosity to the "inferiors" that follow his every step— were already dirt stained and one of his pant legs had a tear near the hem causing him to frown, Mariana would insist on stitching that. Seeing the split fabric made his mind conjure up thoughts of Sayuri and Mafuba, questions of where they were and how they were doing popping up even if their shared time wasn't the most pleasant or that extended of a stay. Plus he had more opportunities to learn about this world and magic with them which was an upside.
"You look so cute when you're lost in thought like that love."
Blinking out of his reverie he saw Mariana step by the tree he felled and stroll up to him before taking a seat beside him, her shoulder against his and knees bumping his own. Her hair had been shaved off near the mid-winter due to lice but it's grown back nicely in the time since. Much shorter than when they'd first met but she'd grown used to it and appreciated the function of it, musing to him leaving it a bit shorter and going as far to ask if he liked it more one way over the other. While he kept his head turned to take in every detail of her, she had moved her hand to rest on his chin, her fingers traced his jaw, slipping over the scar Stronoff had given him for sneaking food from the guard mess hall tent. Her thumb and pointer finger pinched his chin and pulled his face closer so her lips could press against his, she did her best to wait until after the kiss to smile. It wasn't long ago that even this would fluster him indescribably.
Her smile didn't last as she saw how worn Izuku looked. She really did admire his heroic spirit and drive to better the lives of those around him. But every time he stood up to the guards, or each time he took the blame for someone else, or even just tried and improve their living conditions by sneaking food, medicine, and items for the folks and someone would rat him out to try and worm their way into Vandergraff's good graces and the guards would punish him for his insubordination. Each time they'd change his beatings up, she knew it wasn't done to make her worry more but it still did, they usually occurred in the camp center or if not they would tie his hands to a post and give him twenty or thirty lashes to the back out in the woods, the worst for Mariana without a doubt had to be the nights they'd drag him out of the tent and drop him off in the infirmary in the morning bruised, bloody, and broken all of this instilling a fear in her that even Genfu would deam a step too far.
"Mari, hello~!" Izuku said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.
Blinking away her thoughts she cupped his face and gave him another kiss; perhaps her favorite way to pass the time. Leaning back she looked at the axe the lay just off to the side. Whispers could be heard on occasion of Izuku taking up his wood cutters axe and taking on all the guards, silly fantasies that the other servants dreamt up of their heroic figure, silly fantasies that could get him in trouble if they reach the wrong ears.
Izuku clapped his hands causing her to flinch, "If you keep spacing out like that I'm going to drag you to the infirmary."
A frown began to grow on her face as she looked back to the green haired cause of her worries, "We'll be arriving at Artorius estate in as little as week or two I hear, and Aurelius pilgrimage across the west will end with it…the servants are uncertain, the guards are too happy. And I'm scared."
"Scared huh…what'll happen once we get there?"
"Aurelius will return the borrowed servants and guards his older brother lent him and return to his duties as advisor. But I've only been with the camp a few months longer than yourself. Thoughts of having to readjust is occupying my mind more and more often."
His hand fell over hers and held it tight as he hummed in thought, "Well, at least we'll have each other."
Her hand found his and intertwined their fingers, "Yes Izuku, we have each other…but the things you do are scaring me."
Izuku looked away from her for a moment and gazed at the fallen tree and then off into the distance, "The guards do well enough scaring away wildlife and I'm pretty careful about which way to the tree falls."
Mariana sighs and pinches his nose before making him shake his head side to side, "Not what I meant dummy. I've never seen a servant get away with as much as you do."
Izuku unconsciously covers his side when she mentions how much he's "gotten away with".
Even if the movement isn't jerky or sudden she notices the way he grabs his side and the week he spent coughing up blood and having to replace torn stitches. Neither of them could forget the countless bruises he's been given or the many fractured bones and torn up flesh. But she can't help but fear that's he's been pushing his luck. That the next time he gets caught standing up to the guards or sneaking something for the elder servants it won't be a lashing or a beating coming his way, but a noose around the neck…
She throws her arms around him, her face buried in the space between his neck and shoulder. Izuku hesistates for a second before returning the sudden hug, rubbing circles against her back.
"Promise me," Mariana's muffled words are barely audible as she pressed her face against his shoulder.
"Promise you what?"
"That you won't leave me…that you'll be mine and I won't have to worry about having you taken away from me like they took Asterox."
Izuku can say nothing for a long moment, he has to remain calm when he noticed that each silent second passing increases her frantic breathing. No one looks at him like a freak like they once did in his old life—besides the guards but they don't really count— people who he spends all day working with even seem happier when he's around, he can't help but want to do a little bit to improve their lives. His arms tighten around her. Thoughts of the first days here, of things lost and the treatment that he's endured flood his brain and make him clench his jaw so tight it feels like his teeth will crack.
"It's a deal."
"…a deal… you promise?"
"Promise, I'll be more careful, I can't imagine what this place would be like without you. So I'll do my best to be here for you."
She looks up into his eyes, the emerald shine radiant compared to her own dull ivy green orbs, her head moves up and her lips press against his, leg pushing off the ground and swinging over his so that she ends up sitting on his lap with arms around his neck. The only thought on her mind as she ignored the burn for breath was how happy she was.
oOo
Izuku awoke to the sounds of a quill scratching on paper. His back which had acclimated to the hard ground felt odd and for good reason as he found he was resting on a futon. Shooting up tossed the cartoon duck patterned covers off of him and onto the tile floor, all around him are desk, and chairs, and school bags and… and…!
A loud clink stills his thoughts like a rushing river suddenly becoming calm. His head finds the source, a tall man with black hair peppered white and a beard that reach his chest in a suit sits at a desk by the class board, beside him a girl who could be his age stands in a dark blue uniform, he own her colored platinum blonde and styled into curls, a band on her shoulder would denote her as a club president.
"Welcome to the Velvet Room Izuku, or would you prefer I call you Midoriya-San?"
Getting out of bed he sees he now sports a uniform similar to the girls, the male variant with a tie and golden colored buttons. The room is bathed in blue light and the darkness outside the windows seems impenetrable. The girl clears her throat to get his attention before directing it back to the man awaiting an answer.
"Umm, just Midoriya is fine."
"Well then Midoriya. Welcome to my Velvet Room. Hmm, but my manners seem to be slipping. Let's see, please feel free to call me Igor. So glad to have finally made your acquaintance." The end of his sentence seems to be a practiced signal as the girl steps up with hands at her side.
"Please have a seat." She says, staring at the back wall lined with locked cabinets where Izuku assumes the room's cleaning equipment and supplies are stored, considering he has no clue how he arrived here or where here even is, he decides to simply sit and play along for a bit. Once his seat is taken, an unusual one since he's never had the pleasure of sitting in the front row, she takes three big steps to stand just slightly off to the side of the man behind the desk.
"I am a humble servant to this great one. We are here to help you."
"Help me how exactly? Can you get this collar off of me?"
The two at the front of the room share a look before the girl points at her own neck to mime for him to check his own. Izuku's calloused fingers trembled at his side before slowly rising up and feeling the bare skin of his neck for the first time in weeks. When he swallows he doesn't feel any leather band dig into his skin and the swelling relief makes him want to cry. But then he takes note that the core of his body still feels chilled. His head looks up to see the older looking man frowning.
"Yes they've done a terrible thing to you and others with those infernal bands. But I'm sure you'll see in time how things will play out. Hmm, I would have liked to explain some things but it seems our time tonight is almost up; simply know that only those who have made a pact may find this place and that your being here means more than it may appear."
oOo
The moon reaches its crown at the center of the sky, a white light that cascades from the heavens illuminates the forest. The dirt path that once ran through the west center a distant memory as a new paved with brick road lined and lighted with lantern post along the way.
Mafuba looks to the golden orange flame inside the black metal box and frowns. She hadn't seen a lantern lighter yet and she could smell no glyphs producing the magic to light them.
"Does something trouble you my Master?" Sayuri ask stepping out from the brush, a dead rabbit in her hand, blood staining its side where four pin like incisions seemed to have been made.
The short old tradeswoman looks at her faithful servant and then back at the lights, "You might say that yes. Tell me Sayuri, did you notice anything strange in the forest during your hunt?"
"Strange…you could say that, it seemed as though all of the animals were on alert even before I entered."
Before Mafuba could comment on that the sound of wooden chimes filled the air along with the sudden shifting of tree branches and leaves. The pounding sound of feet on brick coming up behind them also grew louder. From either side of them the leaves exploded out and as a dozen wooden soldiers flanked their sides, at their backs three centipedes stomped up and clacked their wooden legs against one another.
Sayuri dropped low into a stance, leg muscles coiled and ready to pounce with primal rage at anyone daring to come upon her master. The only thing that kept her from jumping at those pine bugs was her masters extended hand commanding her to stop.
The chiming grew louder and louder until it crescendoed with the arrival of a large wooden egg with a blue glowing shard at its base, standing atop it a well endowed woman with ivory white hair and a smile that promised trouble. Her robe black as the night sky with a brown leather belt around her midsections to keep it closed and provide quick access to her many throwing knives.
"You've given me quite the runaround Mafuba, I never would've expected to take so long to find one old lady."
"Ah, one of Elric's dogs come to do business I hope. Else I'll be quite annoyed your wasting my time right before dinner."
"You manner of speaking in regard to King Elric and his subjects does you a disservice. The clerics felt Star Lord residue, I've been tasked to find the source."
Mafuba looks side to side, then lifts up one side of her cloak before mimicking the action in the other side, "No Stars here, residue or otherwise I'm afraid. Feel free to move on."
Winry's smile fades and the frown that takes its place seems no less dangerous as she hops down from the egg that starts rising higher into the air, the sound of chimes growing no quieter as the distance grows.
"Tell me who you sold the source to, and what that source is while you're at it."
"No can do. Confidentiality pacts, I rather like my heart how it is."
"You traitorous wench, I've given you an opportunity to assist our Majesty, a God amongst men and you forsake this chance?!"
"Help that Dog Lord Elric?" She spits to the side before adding, "I'd sooner bend a knee to Yimr's kin."
That seems to be the final straw for Winry as she whips a knife out from her belt and flings it with intent to stab Mafuba between the eyes. The metallic clang that follows and the glinting torchlight on the knife as it spirals off into the woods an unexpected result for the kings top assasin.
Sayuri had intercepted the blade and knocked it aside, her hand curled into a half closed clawing shape, veins bulging on the back of her palm and down her arms, each nails on her finger tips curved and shimmering with a purple miasma.
Mafuba looked at the soulless puppets surrounding them, the odds were against them and while she might make it out the old magician turned tradeswoman didn't think her young aid would also survive the brawl.
"Sayuri, go find the boy."
"Master!?"
"Consider that my final order, it seems I was right…that deal was more trouble than it was worth."
"M-master! I insist on staying and fighting this harlot! Besides, what purpose would seeking out the Maggot serve?"
"Do my orders mean so little to you girl? Seek out Midoriya and keep him out of the fool Elrics clutches."
Sayuri grits her teeth, while she wants to believe her dauntless Master will rend asunder these mechanical men and show this fool woman what it means to waste the time of the Magnanimous Mafuba, a treacherous part of her mind refuses to ignore the numbers advantage and small possibility her beloved Master might in fact lose.
Turning and crouching suddenly she feels her clawed feet dig into the brick road and leave a gash as she kicks off into a sprint, the sound of wooden blocks hitting against one another lead into the sight of a pine centipede that was preparing to coil around her and crush her bones. None of the opposition expected her fist to crash through it and tear a hole for her to jump through and fade into a purple cloud and sprint away on four legs with black fur sprouting from her.
"After her!" Winry commanded.
One of the remaining pine bugs moved to begin its pursuit over for the air to grow cold and every one of its joints to freeze. It's core was destroyed by ice spikes growing out of it and it soon explodes into a shower of a snow and hail.
Mafuba reaches up and unlatches her cloak, tossing aside the pale blue cloth as rolling up the sleeves of her fighting gi, "Now then, Perso—"
Her knees bent as her head moved out of the way as a crossbow bolt split apart the air and buried itself into the trunk of a tree. This seemed to be the Spruce Soldiers signal to commence their assault as Winry stepped back a bit.
Bobbing and weaving as punches and kicks flew would be difficult for anyone, impossible for some, never mind her advanced age and lack of practice in recents times.
Leaping into the air her feet landed atop one soldiers head just as the spiked knuckle fist of its brother crushed in its chest, the sudden contact seemed to trigger something as she jumped away as it erupted into a ball of flames, the explosion wave messing with her landing causing her to roll into the brush and push up into a jog as darts pierced the shrubbery and displaced the dirt.
The remaining Pine Bug crashed through a tree with a trident protruding from its head, "PERSONA!" Mafuba called out as azure flames illuminated the shadowed forest.
A pale woman with a cloth covering both eyes and dress white as snow that flowed down into tatters with sleeves that drifted into the wind came into existence. Her arms spread apart as a shower of icicles flew from the cold fires covering her body. The bug was shredded to pieces and most of the soilders were left in a devastated state.
It was almost as quickly as it appeared that the flames vanished. Mafuba had sweat running down her face, and her wrinkled lips quivered as she forced air into her lungs. Her hand reached for purchase on a tree to remain upright, only to come up short and cause her fall to the dirt and leaf strewn ground below.
Clapping filled the air as Winry stepped over the massacred puppets and stood over the old woman, a shadow cast over her.
"Perhaps you shouldn't have sent away your help," her mocking smile made the elder tradeswoman want to smack her and tell her not to look down on her elders, but the fatigue and dizziness kept her from moving.
Winry looked the old woman over, the fighting garb seemed out of place on her small skinny frame and inspite of the combat attire she didn't do much actual hand to hand fighting, "It would seem the legends of your exploits during the time before the war were greatly exaggerated."
Mafuba scoffs pushing herself over onto her back, vision darkening and hands numb didn't bode well at the best of times, and considering she was in the middle of a fight for her life this seemed I'll timed.
"You're a foolish girl…you remind me a town guard I met none too long ago."
"What are you babbling about? You should be begging for your life or more preferably telling me where I can find the Source."
The sound of chimes was absent as well as the dowels that came with it as the egg floated down, its blue glow dull. Mafuba looked from Winry to the egg, her hands resting on the waist of her uniform pants. A pristine violet card corner brushing against the tip of her finger, a pang of regret in her stomach, and she pinching the card into her palm and letting the feeling of it guide her final breaths.
"Don't worry, I'm sure Midoriya will find you soon enough, Mamudoon!"
Winry's eyes grew to the size of saucers as her knees bent as she attempted to backflip away from the suicide attack, the sudden eruption of energy caused her aerial maneuver to fail and crash against a branch, cutting her cheek during the impact and twisting her ankle upon landing. Her head was swimming and lacked direction until she saw the bits of oak splinters scattered everywhere and blue dust floating in the wind.
"DAMN YOU!" Was her echoing cry of rage into the night.
oOo
Yongen lifted the cup up to his lips, the burn of imported spirits emboldening his own and he kept chugging the contents, a stream of it running down his chin and neck. When he was finished he threw away the clay cup and ignored the shattering sound as it impacted the wall.
"Get out here bitch! I don't have all night."
"At once…master…" said the younger woman with the leather choker as she stepped out from the side room, a bruise on her neck and eye a deep purple with hints of yellow and green trailing down her side and legs.
"Whores nowadays…" Yongen muttered as she climbed into bed, her head to the side as he mounted her, a nasty smile on his face as he grabbed and squeezed her bruised hip and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
It happened too suddenly, the tightnes, the lack of air. He pulled himself free of the girl beneath him and stumbled out of bed, his nude sweat covered body glistening in candlelight as he clutched his chest. His shoulder struck the wall and he slid down onto the ground before rolling over and seeing the girl he'd spent the entire night with staring at him. His hand extended out to her, his good eye trembling as the darkness closed in on him. His final moments were filled with the sight of a cheap prostitute taking his remaining silver and whiskey and leaving his home in the dead of night wrapped in his favorite bedsheet.
oOo
The sunlight streaming in through the thin tent fabric wakes him up before the guards have begun sounding the morning bell, a haze of thoughts weigh down his mind for a long minute until he blinks them away. His head falls to the left, the dirt in this part of the forest the softest it's been in weeks meant he'd rested just a bit better when he finally fell asleep last night, along with the rest of the indentured help. Next he swung to look to the right and found Mariana curled up into his side, head resting on his arm and hands clutching his shirt, tear stains on her cheeks. And he hates himself when he feels relief welling up in him.
They'd only been in the tent twenty or so minutes the previous night when three guards came inside along with Stronoff, dozens of eyes flew to Izuku at their arrival even though he hadn't done anything that day to deserve a beating, but he would've preferred it if he had considering what they took instead. Stronoff just watched as three guards walked around the tents, grabbing at people, turning their heads with disregard for stiff joints or sore muscles and pushing others out of the way even stepping on those that had already fallen asleep.
One of them approached him and looked at Mariana and never before had Izuku felt such an intense anger in him, he felt almost like Kacchan in those moments, ready to blow up and let everyone around him know what he thought. Ready to lash out and do something, but his talk with her in the forest just hours prior was still fresh in his mind, and she had been holding his shirt to keep him from moving. What Izuku assumed would have made the guard keep walking was the fact that her ears were long even for a wood elf, and how they seemed to despise their kind, but as he moved to reach for her the unexpected happened.
"Not her." Stronoff commanded from his position at the tent entrance, causing Izuku to raise a brow in confusion but refusing to look away from the one who moved to take her from him.
No one moved an inch when the guards picked their company for the night and dragged out three girls, two of which silently coming along with sullen looks, and the third pulling and whimpering the entire way.
Stronoff remained at the tent entry and look directly toward Izuku and Mariana, a sour look crossing his face before he grunted and left with the guards.
That entire time he kept his eyes on the tent flap as his girlfriend cried into his chest, the entire night he watched waiting for the girls to return and find their places here, the entire night he hated himself more than he maybe ever has. It wasn't until a few hours before sunrise that two of them returned, the quiet ones. One trudged over to the far wall of the tent and plopped herself down. The other slowly found her way to Izuku's side and told him she'd been taken to the infirmary. It gave Izuku some relief that she was in the infirmary and that one of the people he's spent months with feels enough concern for their fellow servants, or enough debt to himself, to make the effort to look after one another. But it just reignited his anger that despite doing something so horrible to that poor girl she still wound up in the infirmary. The face of that guard became etched into his brain.
Torn from his thoughts by the pounding on the pot outside their tent he noticed the others grumbling and moving to wake up. His girlfriend taking the longest as she seems hesistant to open her eyes. Seeing her quivering eyes adjust to the light and fully wake up breaks his heart.
The usual bell isn't sounding though which takes his mind away from the worried face of Mariana and forces him to look at the other to catch clues of what's going on, and unfortunately they all seem as clueless as him. But no one was left in the dark for long as a lanky guard with twin blades at his hips and patchy beard strolled into their tent.
"Up! Up you mangy dogs! We set off for Vandergraff Manor immediately!"
Murmuring dominated his world as everyone looked between themselves, the sounds of bustling activity outside becoming loud enough to reach them now. Izuku can only assume something must have happened in the night to warrant such a rush, considering word from the guards places them three days away from the estate.
"Did I stutter?! I said up! Move it dammit!"
The lanky one stomped over to Izuku and seized one of his arms, in the brief moment Izuku thought he was reaching for Mariana and had prepared to bite off the guards fingers. The oddity of that thought is what gave him enough pause for the man to seize him and lift him up. When he pulled against the guard, insisting he could stand on his own, the snarled reply froze his resolve.
"Lord Aurelius wants a word with you."
That initiated the second time this morning that Izuku was frozen with indecision and was led away, the last thing he saw was the hectic movement in the tent as everyone was spilling out to begin packing up for the long march. Izuku gazed through the rushing crowd and saw the worried look on Mariana's face. Unfortunately Stronoff strode up to him and stopped the guard acting as his escort.
"Stay here and keep an eye on these inferiors. I'll take this mongrel to the Master."
The guard with the patchy beard didn't question his commander and simply handed Izuku over before taking a stance to watch the rushing servants scramble ro and from. Unfortunately this was worse for the green haired boy as both of his hands were raised and held in one massive palm of Stronoff as the other wrapped a thick piece of scratchy rope around his wrist, binding his hands together, leaving a length for the guard captain to pull him along with.
To make matters that much worse the destination they were slowly trotting along to was on the other end of camp— and already on the move if the neighing horses and whip cracking were any indication— and the slow pace set by Stronoff seemed intentional to burn at Izuku's waning patience.
Unfortunately things seemed to still not be bad enough as the sound of spilling pans and cracking wood reached his pointed ears, turning his head he saw a pair of indiscriminate guards in full regalia carrying out a bloodied woman by her thin arms, despite her bruised and swollen face and the missing patch of hair that looked torn out Izuku still identified her as the whimpering one from last night. She looked like she was a week out from being in any state to walk. The nurse that erupted from the tent after them yelling and dooming them only added dread to his sinking mood.
"What're they doing…" Izuku asked aloud.
"Keep walking." Stronoff dained to reply.
Izuku kept walking, an automatic action as he was pulled along, but his eyes remained glued to the scene as the nurse attempted to pull at the guards only to be punched and pushed away, then the injured girl being dragged along was simply dropped on the ground, his ears twitch at the soft grunt and exhale she made and he could hear the increasing thump of her heart even. His green orbs shrunk as he saw one of the guards draw his saber and hold it over her head.
"NO! Stop it!" He yelled, pulling against the binds on his arms to rush over, despite the meager muscle he's built over the months cutting trees and hauling lumber it isn't anything compared to the giant of an elf guard captain Stronoff who keep pulling him along even as he falters in step and has to be dragged away. Izuku can only watch as guards, people who by definition are supposed to protect, murder an injured girl.
The most logical and cynical part of his mind insist that calling them "guards" was always a mistake as they should have been labeled captors, but every other part of his functioning brain roared in anger and sadness. Hot tears rolled down his face at his inability to help, and the cold in his stomach grew bone chilling.
Time and distance become nothing to Izuku as he detached himself from it all, the warm stream running down his face ceases to run but leaves a track stain. His face blank and mouth agape as he continues to be dragged along.
He can not feel and makes no distinctions as an arm wraps around his midsection and lifts him up before tossing him into finely cut boards, too exact a craftsmanship for any random cart or wagon, not that Izuku could take note of that particular contrast. No he remained dead to the world until he felt a cold steel edge bite into the knuckle on his finger, only fully returning to conscious thought as the full weight of Stronoff pressed down onto the blade and cut the tip of his left pointer finger off.
Hissing and jerking backwards the hand clutching his wrist while making the cut releases allowing him to fall backwards, rear end first, onto the ground; clutching his bleeding finger to his chest. His white shirt grew redder by the second.
A plain white rag flutters through the air before landing in front of him. He looks up and sees a vaguely familiar face. The one who bought him from Mabufa, the elf with caramel colored skin and a narrow goatee, a head of vibrant golden blonde hair. Aurelius.
Izuku can almost feel the fracture occurring in his mind, the schism between cold deductive fairly reasoned logic, and the primal instinctual emotions both trying to take hold of him and push him to act. Months of mistreatment could be attributed to this one man, but if it weren't for him he may never have met Mariana. But a cold whisper argues that he would've been better off with Mafuba; learning magic, skinning rabbits and convincing Sayuri that he was more than a Maggot.
His bleeding hand reaches out, drops of crimson seeping into the polished wood, clutching the white cloth and staining it almost as quickly as his shirt. His narrowed eyes follow the floorboards to Aurelius' feet; the elf sports a similarly fine robe of a rich maroon color and the same red sash from their first encounter. His legs act like springs as he reaches his full height in a second and his fist is reared back. Fully intent to smash his fist into the man's nose for allowing the mistreatment of these people. Only for Stronoff to smash his own knuckles into Izuku's cheek.
"Oh ho! This lad's a fighter!" Aurelius laughs as the green haired boy crashes into the wall of the carriage and slides onto the floor, his cheek developing a violet tint. The elf who leads this traveling bands strokes his facial hair, a smirk growing on his face.
"Take a seat lad, if we maintain our current pace we should arrive at my dear brothers estate before much longer."
Izuku nurses the swelling bruise on his face but refuses to cringe or show too much weakness in front of his tormentors.
"I like that fire in your eyes, too often I see the will vanish from the servants and they act like puppets. Only they require more maintenance."
"The guard said you had words for me…?"
Stronoff stepped forth and placed a foot atop of Izuku's knee, after only a bit of pressure the teen from another world was already hissing in pain, "Show respect mutt."
"Enough Stronoff. Soon enough the boy will be in the hands of my niece. Let him enjoy this while he can."
Izuku stares between the two of them and his bound hands, a growing ember of worry hearing his thoughts.
oOo
The tall pine trees finally fail at blocking the sun and a few of its warm rays hit the small wooden porch of the cabin. The log structure seems to blend into the forest surrounding it thanks to its vertical post. Instead of being built with one log atop another, they flank each one. A mossy filler keeps the cold winds at bay. And the thick door seems sturdy enough with wrought iron hinges.
Sitting in one of the two rocking chairs occupying the porch is a tall man. His beard a fuzzy mess that reaches past his chin and near to his stomach, his arms are thick and his eyes glint as they stare off into the distance.
"Don't suppose todays the day you'll tell me what you're on the look out for is it?" A soft, warm voice asks from the left of him. A woman, nearly tall enough to compare to two average folk standing on one another shoulders, adorned in leather pelts and what could be half a dozen belts ask while stepping between the trees.
His brings one hand up to scratch at his face, annoyed by how fuzzy it's become, his gaze travels down to his leg, the wooden peg strapped to the stump just as irritating a reminder today as it had been since he'd gotten it months ago.
He grunts and she shakes her head, crouching to step onto the porch and past him into the cabin. The sound of clanking pots a comfortable music to his ears and the smell of last nights roast inviting him inside.
The two sit in relative silence, the soft chirping of arboreal birds and the scratching of forks and spoons against their deep dish plates the only noise accompanying their meal.
Suddenly she stop poking at her pheasant and potatoes and looks up at the man, his tan having faded a bit and hair developing a sheen from regular washing, "I know you said you'd only stay until you were well enough but…would it be so bad if you stuck around for longer?"
"I'm not exactly built for domestic life."
Her frown grows as he continues ripping into the grilled bird, "You seem to have adapted to it well."
He stops chewing, fork set to the side of his plate, his head rises and his eyes darkened by the deep bags beneath them. His tongue sweeps across his lips and then he drags a palm down his face. The exhaustion nearly palpable, "Iris, I appreciate everything you've done since fishing me up—"
"Just not enough to stay with me."
He grunts at the interruption, "I'm doing what's best. For the both of us."
"Bjorn stop! You don't have to be alone, we can hide away from Elric together!"
Bjorn feels his blood chill at that, he in fact has been on the run after narrowly avoiding death but his story to her had involved a pirate attack…
"You're one of his assassins?"
"…I…I'm like a keeper. I protect this front of the forest" She remains quiet, seeming to be unable to speak, to force her explanation out.
"So why fish me out of the water?"
She chuckles at that, "I wasn't exactly fishing for a husband Bjorn, it wasn't my fault that you got caught in my fishing nets."
"But that doesn't explain—"
"Please calm down…" she can't seem to look him in the eye, an aura of shame taints the air around her, "I didn't know at first, but during my report to his majesty I received word of your identity and apparently failed attempt on your life. He directed me to finish you off. But I just couldn't bring myself to."
His missing leg aches, not for the first time since he's been here, and he has to resist the urge to lash out with his prosthetic. The chill of betrayal seeping past flesh and blood and deep into his bones. Months of sharing a roof and responsibilities, of developing a comraderie, weeks of sharing a bed all now meaningless because of Elric.
"That bastard always finds a way to ruin all the best parts of my life…"
Iris pushes her chair back and flips the table over, kneeling before him, her hands taking his, her warm chocolate brown eyes looking deep into his own vaguely yellow irises. The action not unlike the many times she would spend minutes getting lost in his stare, only this time she sees his contempt rising instead of a restrained attraction.
"Nothing has to be ruined, we can stay here together, or even run away! Just you and me."
It was idealistic, a romantic fantasy of two love birds taking flight and avoiding their hunter. But Bjorn knew better, he was too old to be deluded by such fantasies. Not for a second time.
"Pack a bag." He growled, and her smile made his chest ache, a memory he thought long discarded brought the forefront of his mind. Her back to him she rushes to the other side and opens up her rucksack, reaching for essentials, dried meats, a few utensils, an extra pelt. She only ceases her joyful packing when the room is suddenly bathed in azure light, she turns to see the blue flames wreathed over the form of a beast of a man, his massive hand reaches out and clutches her face, the monsters shoulders press against the ceiling so tightly that the wood creaks and cracks. The pressure in his grip builds and builds until suddenly a crunch and popping noise fills the room.
The fire and Nestior vanishes leaving only Bjorn and the deceased headless spy on the ground of her cabin, a packed rucksack resting on a log table safe from the pouring red.
Bjorn sits further back in the chair, the poor craftsmanship another reminder of the better times he had spent here with her. His throat feels tight and the ache of his leg seems to worsen.
"Goodbye Iris," he chokes out while staring blankly at the ceiling.
oOo
The long line of guards and servants struggle to raise one foot after the other, the sun finally beginning to rise at their back. The walk through the night had been hellish, an especially harsh cold wind had swept over them.
Toward the front of the procession was the Guard Captain Stronoff, the cold seeming more a mild suggestion to him as he sported no coat or cloak and instead rode in the common leathers of the guards. A dozen servants kept a slow pace alongside his horse, a miracle when you realized they'd walked a full day without rest.
The muscular captain kept his gaze firm on the horizon, the hammer at his side awaiting to be drawn to deliver the blunt justice of its wielder, despite the long hours in the saddle he remained as alert as the minute he had been dismissed from his master's side. His face threatens to contort into a frown but he schools his features and looks toward his peripherals, just to his left marches a long eared wood elf. Her short blonde hair is like brilliant sun rays in the morning light. The sight of her walking with that dead eyed stare assaults him and forces his mind away from the present and back to what he saw as simpler times.
He'd always been the personal guard to Aurelius Vandergraff, a position that fell to him after the death of his father an age ago, but his lord surprised him one day by designating him guard captain and proclaiming that he was going on a pilgrimage to the west with his brother's blessing— and funding— the idea did not sit well with him. Leaving the estate for a prolonged time while the peasants were growing restless seemed unwise. But he had no place to argue and followed along, it was many boring months of walking and suffering the company of wood elf and human slaves that Artorius leant his little brother. Truly a test of his patience as he was forced to see his proud master lower himself to the level of a commoner to experience the pitiful traditions of the western lands.
At times he wondered if perhaps the torturous boredom he was enduring would ever come to an end, but it was on a day much like any other that he found her. Accompanying Aurelius to a meeting to sell off the lumber they had gathered he saw her, standing in a lineup outside the decapod whore house. Her robe was a faded spring time green and her hair haphazardly tied into a bun. Spotty makeup attempted to hide bruises and hickies, he saw her in that line up and felt an ache in his chest worse than any battle injury. He made no action to pursue and followed in his master's steps, biting his tongue and attempting to banish her from his thoughts. He failed, and he continued to fail as once the negotiations were completed he dared to ask Aurelius for her, he stood before the man whom he had sworn his life to and asked for the hand of a sullied maiden. Stronoff would never forget the way the elf laughed in the street before asking to be shown this girl.
Another look Stronoff would never forget was the surprise on Mariana's face when her owner brought her before two dark elves. Aurelius had given three golden drakes for her, it appeared she was a popular choice amongst the clientele and the owner refused to part for less.
"She's all yours!" Aurelius had said, handing her lead over to him and moving to return to camp, seemingly without a care at the expense he had just made, the guard captain knew that the old elf had a fondness for bookkeeping and was likely on his way to balance the margins.
But that night, when he finished off his training for the day and they had settled for the night, when he found her sitting on his cot awaiting his arrival, uncaring of the collar around her neck or the lead that tied her to this place. The blank stare and acceptance of the situation nauseated him. He physically couldn't bring himself to lay a finger on her.
"Can you sew?"
"…what?" The meek reply infuriated him.
"Can you sew?" He repeated, rubbing his tired eyes.
"I can do whatever pleases the master."
That false sweet tone felt like a rock falling into the pit of his stomach, his dagger flew from its sheath and it cut clean through the leash that tied her to his bed, "In the morning…in the morning you will join the mending crew. Leave me."
Obviously he would have preferred she stay, that she admit to being a clueless wench and remain at his side, lazing each day awaiting his arrival and warming his body with her own. But that didn't happen, his wish was not granted, and instead his suffering was magnified ten times over. Forced to see her each day, compelled to have her mend his clothes and polish his blade and find whatever time to interact he could, and how could he forget the endless torment of seeing her latch onto the arm of a failed dirt farming human from the southern lands of the west, the boondocks of Elrics kingdom. His hatred for Asterox seemed endless in those days, and it still did to this very day.
"I SAID HALT!" A voice brought Stronoff back to the present.
It seemed he had left his post for longer than he thought as the twin towers that flanked the gate to Artorius Vandergraff's estate looked over them. The dark skinned elves adorned in gold gilded steel plates leveraged their long pole arms at them, from atop the towers archers and marksmen could be seen taking aim. Stronoff unintentionally found himself looking at Mariana, her worried gaze unusual when she had become so defiant in the last few months.
His hand rose to his chest and removed the gold medallion he always wore, "I am Guard Captain Gustav Stronoff! Humble servant of the master Aurelius Vandergraff, we return home to our brothers!"
The two polearm wielding gate guards shared a look before retracting their blades, up top the bowmen had let their arms rest but the matchlock wielders kept their barrels pointed down at them.
Spear handed off to his partner the slightly shorter one came walking up and past Stronoff over toward the living carriage that Aurelius used. The door opened and was held open by a green haired servant sporting the typical leather collar, the only typical thing about him. The softly pointed ears left his ancestry in question, the dark blue robe he wore with a white sash tied around the waist was usual for the castle workers, not usually seen on the road, but the faded yellow fabric around his neck also failed to fit in with his attire.
Izuku paid the bewildered guard no mind and kept his features schooled as he caught sight of Mariana, her eyes glistening with tears ready to fall at the sight of him. He wondered if a rumor regarding his death had begun to circulate considering his absence from the tent.
"Siggun right? Send word to my brother that I've arrived! I'm ready to bathe in a proper bath again."
"At once Lord Aurelius," no one caught the slight twitch of Aurelius' brow at that, "but Master Vandergraff expected you back before winter commenced."
The blonde elf waved his hand to disregard the statement, but couldn't help elaborating anyway, "We were on schedule to be back by then, but before I knew it the help dear old brother lent me started dropping dead! So, like the good little brother I am, I found the crème de la crème to replace them. Tell him I said you're welcome."
The spearman coughed into his closed hand, saluted, and then turned to run in to get permission for them to enter. The entire group did their best to remain motionless as they waited, Stronoff didn't miss the way Mariana paid more attention to the cleaned up, robe sporting Izuku than any of the men pointing armaments at them. The concern in her eyes made his stomach churn. He wondered what sort of atrocity his ancestors committed for him to have to endure this burning envy.
"Attention!" The same booming voice that commanded them to halt initially called out, the gates creaked as the massive doors swung open, "Access to his eminence estate has been granted."
The group began moving again and Stronoff couldn't help but let his lips quirk upwards at the sight of his home. The many armored and armed dark elves lining the walls meeting his stare with joy at his return, he missed a great many things from being away from his home. His tired eyes fell upon a small group of sun tanned humans, their skin tightly clinging to the bone beneath their hair stringy and matted with sweat and dirt. A frown of distaste grew on his features as the horses he was leading began to diverge, splitting apart to go to their assigned corrals. The sight of humans was never a welcome one for him, likely how the westerners viewed him and Aurelius. But he looked past them, the idle thought of how such starved vermin could survive an eastern winter eluded him.
"Gustav!" A little squeak of a voice erupted from the crowd and a small woodland elf pushed past the growing crowd of spectators, the little boy had a shaved head and the burlap rags that adorned his frame were hardly worth noting. Regardless, the captain of Aurelius' guard pulled on the reins to cease his horse's movement. Many eyes fell onto the boy, his own ilk attempting to distance themselves from the youngling. Stronoff raised a brow, his silent signal to permit the boy to continue speaking.
"You're finally back! Did you slay any dragons?"
The idea of him gallivanting across the west to slay overgrown winged lizards was comedic enough to bring a smile to the large elf's face. Now that it had been mentioned to him so directly he thought back to his travels, despite every westerner claiming to either have seen or have been attacked by a dragon he himself and all his men had never once seen one.
"No." Was all the muscular elf bothered to say before turning his head to see Aurelius walking toward the largest manor on the estate, a green head of hair bobbing along in step behind him with no less than seven guards around them both.
Stronoff leapt off his horse and tossed the long lead over toward the gathering of slaves, "take my horse to the stables and brush her. Tell the smith to replace the shoes."
He then began his stride toward the shrinking forms of Aurelius and Izuku without even a glance back at the confused servants. The tall elf closed the gap with ease however and fell into formation along with the rest. The blonde elf known to most who inhabit the estate as the Lords advisor gave a brief glance over one shoulder at the elf before looking forward again. The halls of the manor seemed to have been given a fresh coat of paint in their absence. But the clacking sound of armored feet was still the same, the farther they walked more and more of the guards stayed back, blades, clubs, knuckle dusters, whatever weapon they sported at the ready as Izuku, Stronoff, and Aurelius came to stand before a chocolate brown door inlaid with gold and an ruby handle.
The blonde elf couldn't help but chuckle before raising his hand and rapping his knuckles on the wooden part of the door. A deep rumbling noise came from within and the elf that led their group for this whole time looked between the boy from another world and the muscular elf.
"I think that means come in," the smile that grows on his face creeps out Izuku as it just doesn't seem to fit with the image he's built up of the man. Stronoff however seemed to roll with it and he reached to turn the priceless knob and pushed open the door.
The room is an office, larger enough for ten average men to stand abreast from one wall to another. Or roughly six Stronoff sized elves. Aurelius disregards his bodyguard's worry and steps past the man and basks in the warm glow of the fireplace to their left. The large window directly in front of them is framed by maroon drapes that are currently tied in the open position with what could pass for golden thread. The desk is large enough for two to comfortably sleep atop of and the padded chair looks comfortable enough to sink into without issue for hours on end. The work surface is occupied by a quarter dozen scrolls and thrice as many papers. Izuku's slitted eyes can't help but catch sentry summaries near the corner of the desk before a wrinkled hand falls upon them. Those same slitted eyes of emerald green trail up a frail bone thin arm covered in old ink— tattoos in desperate need of maintenance— when his eyes reach the shoulder one can't help but note the golden badge and pauldron, but what shakes Izuku is the face. What could pass as a clone of Aurelius is only much older.
Speaking of the blonde elf, he had left the two standing near the entrance and crossed the room to throw an arm over the elf, "Brother dearest! Tell me, and be honest, have you missed me?"
The two could've been body doubles if not for the age difference. But slowly the more subtle differences begin to pop out at Izuku. Aurelius golden blonde hair while the older elf's hair has become sun bleached and faded to nearly white. The noses flow to a similar point but the older brother has a slight upwards curve to his, denoting an healed injury and making it appear as though he's always turning his nose up at you.
The old elf raises a hand and using two fingers pinches his brother's wrist before lifting it off his shoulder and dropping it. A simple stare seems to share words plenty for Aurelius who shrugs and walks back over to the other side of the desk and takes one of the simpler chairs. Izuku freezes as he catches the old elf glaring at him.
"Is this the gift you spoke of in your missives?"
"The very same Artorius," Aurelius replies, throwing one leg over the other before planting an elbow on his knee to rest his chin atop his knuckles.
"Hmm. Serviceable. Have him taken to her mansion."
The pout that Aurelius gives seems out of place on a cultured face like his, the sort of thing that would get a lesser noble hung, "but her birthday isn't for another week, you'll ruin my surprise brother!"
Artorius pinches his nose and sighs at his younger brother's antics, "Gustav."
"Master Vandergraff!" Stronoff tenses as the address slips easily past his lips.
"Take this one to Ariadne's manor."
"At once."
Stronoff gives Izuku a look that the green haired boy could've translated without the use of his odd power to comprehend foreign language. The big one leads and the small one follows, door closing behind him.
"What a peculiar stench."
Aurelius giggles at that, "A very fitting gift indeed I'm sure you'll agree."
A grunt and the older brother falls into his chair, hand pushing his fading locks back, "I notice your hands empty. What of the expense report regarding your pilgrimage?"
"I had one of my personal servants take it to your accountants."
"Assumptions are unbecoming of you. You were late."
At this Aurelius does falter to reply immediately, the slowly descending sun outside casting a warm light through the window, "There were some…minor complications."
"Rebels? Were you followed west?"
"Honestly brother, I wouldn't doubt it. But I've returned and with double the gold you lent me too."
"A late return and all you have to show is that?"
Aurelius shakes his head, "There's just no pleasing you, is there?"
A loud hmph escapes Artorius, "Enough. Go, I shall call for you in due time."
"Of course Master Vandergraff."
oOo
Izuku stands perfectly straight, hands held behind his back and legs together with heels touching, as the inspecting red eyes of a curvaceous dark elf roam over him. Her slim fingers cup her chin as her tongue pokes past thin lips. This is the fourth time she's given his a once over, and he's exceptionally thankful for all the time spent with Mariana helping him get used to attention, but what really gets to him is when she circles around him and places both hands on his robed shoulder and her nose against the nape of his neck and takes a long whiff.
He isn't thankful for much, less so to Aurelius, but he'd have felt superbly self conscious if not for the bath he'd been allowed to take this morning in the carriage.
"What was your name again?"
"Midoriya Izuku. Ma'am."
Her soft chuckle is cut off as she clamps her mouth shut, "Ariadne is fine, hmm, any clue why my uncle sent you to me? I mean, I could wait for him to show up and explain but who knows when he'll get done talking my fathers ear off."
Izuku has to resist cocking a brow at that, "I have the ability to read any language, speak them as well."
"So what? Should I crack open your head like an egg and see if I can figure out how?"
He doesn't flinch and at the deadpan stare she's fixing him with doesn't let too long before her shoulders begin to shake and another laugh bubbles up, "So serious, boring. Well, can you do anything else?"
The urge to sigh is ever growing within Izuku but he represses the urge and keeps a respectful stance and gaze, "I am proficient in the use of Agi—"
"Shut up! You can use magic?! What other spells?"
"—Uhh, just Agi. I haven't received any training, the rest of my magical knowledge is purely theoretical."
"Back to boring, hmm. Well then…" she lunges at him, his hands move up on instinct before he can stop himself, but she's quicker and slips past his defense. No one can miss the smirk on her face as her hand lands on his stomach dragging across his side and back, pulling the fabric along a bit, her other hand reaches the buckle of his collar and in one swift pull the thing goes flying across the room.
The sound of the iron buckles and leather strap hitting the hardwood floor reverbs in Izuku's pointed ears, his forked tongue pushes past his lips and whips the air before retreating back into his mouth where each of his now pointed teeth feel an odd coating, the deep chill that's been ever present in him since the first time he's had that infernal device strapped on vanishes and in its place a heat like a blast furnace erupts in his gut. His hands curl into fist so tight his nails threaten to break the skin. The only thing that shatters this intense feeling is the weight suddenly appearing on his shoulders and the warmth washing across the side of his face as Ariadne licks the back of his ear.
"Ooh, tasty. You have some wicked potential there Midori~."
He says nothing, doesn't move a muscle as she walks back around to look him in the eye, one of her orange eyebrows rises a bit, "Your eyes look brighter, and the slits have narrowed a bit more. Fascinating…maybe I will dissect you after all, whaddaya think?" She asks, closing the distance between them, the height difference allowing her to look up at him as the top of her head just barely passed his shoulder. He remained tense, immovable for a moment as the idea of using Agi to escape came to mind, of taking Mariana and running, or of taking Ariadne hostage and freeing everyone— "just kidding." She interrupts his mutinous thoughts with a shove and another laugh. Izuku looks her over, the sitting room they've been occupying feeling cramped all of a sudden.
"Like what you see? Well, you aren't exactly hard on the eyes yourself. But I don't like student teacher relations so banish the thought…unless you need some extra special motivation~?"
"Student…teacher…?" Izuku repeats.
"Yup! All that magical potential buried under that nasty collar. Yuck. I'm gonna teach you so much! It'll be fun."
Dumbfounded, stupefied, confused beyond reason. Izuku stares at her as she rushes over to a chest in the corner of the room and pulls out a long white cape and attaches it to her own robes of scarlet and brown. He's nonplussed, she seems so confident in her magical abilities. Letting what could be a potential danger free of a restraining device with the ability to summon flames seems like the wrong call to him, and then that thought has him raising a hand to hold his head. All these months he's wanted that thing off and now that it's gone he thinks it's a mistake.
"Brainwashing?" He mumbles to himself as his green eyes tremble, trying to count the grain in the floor.
"That's a bit advanced for a total newbie like you, but maybe someday your teacher will decide your progress is worthy of such a reward. Unless you meant you want me to brainwash you! In which case I totally can~!"
Terrified. This girl terrifies him more than any of his captors before now have. She has to be insane. A knock on the door saves him from leveling this accusation at her, and when he turns to the slowly opening door he freezes as Stronoff, Aurelius, and Mariana enter, her eyes instantly flying to his, her lips struggling to keep from smiling.
He nearly falls over as Ariadne throws her arms around his shoulders, her legs coming up to lock around his stomach, his hands grab her legs without thinking to keep her from falling.
"Uncle! Welcome back!"
Everyone stares, unblinking, at the smiling orange haired dark elf girl getting a piggyback ride from a green haired servant boy with slightly pointed ears and blank look on his face.