The High Priest's chambers were quiet, the silence that seemed to press against the ears, heavy with anticipation. Izuku stood just inside the doorway, the coolness of the stone walls seeping through the fabric of his tunic. The chamber was dimly lit, the faint glow of magical orbs casting soft illumination over ancient texts and artifacts that adorned the room. The air was thick with the scent of incense, a mixture of myrrh and something else Izuku couldn't quite place, a scent that tugged at the edges of his memory, stirring emotions he had been trained to suppress.
He shifted uncomfortably, the weight of his duty heavy on his shoulders. It wasn't just the physical presence of the High Priest's chamber that made him uneasy; it was what it represented. The chamber was a nexus of power, of decisions that shaped the fate of the kingdom, and standing here, Izuku felt the full burden of his role as Katsuki's protector.
A faint, yet potent scent lingered on his clothes, one of cedar and red ginger, unmistakably Katsuki's. It was a scent he had never encountered before, released during Katsuki's first heat cycle, a biological response Izuku was wholly unprepared for. The scent was alluring, almost intoxicating, filling Izuku with a deep, primal longing that shocked him with its intensity. It brought him back to a moment just hours before, a memory so vivid it made his heart ache and his lips tingle with a ghost of a sensation that never came to be.
They had been so close, closer than they had ever been, caught in a moment of vulnerability and longing. Katsuki's eyes had held a depth of emotion Izuku had never seen before, and for a fleeting second, Izuku had allowed himself to be drawn into the gravity of that gaze, to the precipice of a kiss that promised to breach the chasm between duty and desire. But he had pulled away, the harsh reality of their positions and the weight of his duty crashing down upon him like an icy wave, leaving Katsuki with a look of hurt and confusion that haunted Izuku now.
The memory evoked a maelstrom of emotions in Izuku—longing, guilt, and an undeniable desire. The near-kiss, the warmth of Katsuki's breath mingling with his, was a moment of weakness he could scarcely afford. Yet, as he stood in the chamber, surrounded by the symbols of power and destiny, it was Katsuki's hurt expression that Izuku found himself unable to shake off, a silent accusation that questioned his loyalty not to the temple, but to the heart of the one he was sworn to protect.
Izuku clenched his fists, the fabric of his tunic tightening around his knuckles. The mixture of longing and guilt was a dangerous cocktail, one that threatened to undermine the foundation of his training and resolve. He had been prepared to face any threat, to lay down his life if necessary and deny any temptation of the flesh but nothing had prepared him for the battle raging within him—a battle not against flesh and blood, but against the forbidden desires that threatened to overflow the carefully constructed barriers around his heart.
Izuku's troubled thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the High Priest entered the chamber, already engaged in a fervent conversation with the King through the glowing orb that floated beside him. The room's atmosphere shifted, charged with the tension of the ongoing discussion.
"The traditions of the temple serve as the bedrock of our society, Your Majesty," the High Priest was saying, his voice a calm counter to the storm brewing within the orb. "To disregard them would only sow further discord among the people."
The King's image bristled with impatience, his voice rising sharply. "Discord? My nephew's influence spreads like wildfire, and you speak to me of discord? Once the Saintess bears my child, petty complaints from the masses will cease to matter. We need swift action. I don't have time for your outdated traditions."
Hearing Katsuki spoken about so dismissively by the very man he would be compelled to lie with, the future father of Katsuki's child, sent a wave of revulsion through Izuku. The effort to bite back his tongue, to keep his mounting displeasure under a facade of stoicism, was a battle unto itself. He had heard of the Capitals lax views on the faith, but he hadn't expected such blatant disrespect for the traditions that had bonded their society for generations.
"The pilgrimage itself will fortify your position, Majesty," countered the High Priest, his voice smooth as silk yet carrying an edge sharp enough to cut through the King's impatience. "It's a strategic display of power that will realign the nobility's allegiance directly to your throne, effectively halting House Thornfield, your nephew's ambitions."
Now, the High Priest beckoned Izuku forward, pulling him from the shadows of his thoughts into the forefront of this high-stakes exchange. "Allow me to present Protector Izuku, sworn to safeguard the Saintess throughout this critical journey," he announced, drawing Izuku into the spotlight.
Stepping forward, Izuku offered a bow, the gesture filled with respect yet underscored by the turmoil roiling inside him. "Your Majesty," he intoned, his voice a controlled blend of duty and underlying resolve. The King's eyes, assessing him through the magical conduit, seemed to pierce through the veneer of formality, questioning the very essence of Izuku's commitment.
"And you believe this Protector can bring me the Saintess unscathed?" The King's skepticism was palpable, his gaze lingering on Izuku with an unsettling mix of doubt and contemplation.
Izuku felt every eye in the room upon him, the weight of the moment pressing down. "The Saintess's safety is my highest duty," he affirmed, each word imbued with the depth of his conviction. "I will protect him against all threats, seen and unseen."
"Protector Izuku has been meticulously prepared for this moment," the High Priest declared, his voice a blend of authority and subtle warning. "His training ensures he remains impervious to the... distractions of allure."
Izuku's resolve wavered, the memory of his harrowing training flashing unbidden before his eyes. He remembered the cold, ghostly hands that taught him to recoil from touch, the sessions disguised as preparation, leaving him with a body that shuddered at the mere suggestion of intimacy. Even now, the mere thought sent an involuntary chill down his spine, a physical reminder of the sacrifices etched into his very skin.
The King, peering closely at Izuku through the orb, let out a sigh that bordered on pity. "Bring the Saintess safely to me, and your heart's deepest desire shall be yours to claim," he offered, the weight of a king's promise hanging in the air like a tangible force.
Izuku's response was measured, respectful. "I am grateful for your generous offer, Your Majesty," he said, his tone even; betraying none of the turbulence that roiled beneath his calm exterior. His only genuine desire to see Katsuki safe and content remained unvoiced, a silent vow that needed no acknowledgment from kings or priests.
Izuku, standing at the edge of the High Priest's expansive map, felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. The map, illuminated by flickering candles, showcased the vast lands of the empire, marking the pilgrimage that lay ahead. It wasn't just a journey across the realm; it was a navigation through the intricate web of alliances and ancient feuds that bound the kingdom.
"The pilgrimage," began the High Priest, his voice echoing slightly in the chamber, "is not merely a spiritual tradition. It's a demonstration of the Saintess's blessing, a symbol of unity under the King's rule." His finger traced the path on the map, from the temple through the lands of allies and contentious territories, each stop laden with political significance. "But it's also a message to our detractors, a clear signal of where the power lies."
"Our first leg leads us to House Verlaine," Izuku pinpointed a region north-west of the Holy Temple, and the strongest ally to the High Priest. "Their leadership has extended an invitation to convene in the Village of Lumina, known for its picturesque vineyards. A blessing here would not just uplift spirits but also reinforce our bond with House Verlaine."
As Izuku delineated the route on the map, a moment of concern shadowed his expression. "Our most formidable trial awaits us not just in the Eldertree Forest within House Blackthorn terrritories, known for its ogre infestations, but between the boarders of the two Houses, their mountain ranges alone warrant caution, but there have been rumors of dragon sightings in the area, a detour through the Town of Elden Vale would avoid any risk," he proposed, knowing full well the political ramifications of such a choice. "It would delay us, but..."
The King's response was swift, echoing through the orb with a mix of urgency and command. "Delays are not an option, Protector! My position hangs by a thread," he barked, the image in the orb quivering with the force of his displeasure.
Izuku's jaw tightened. The internal conflict between his duty to protect Katsuki and the rigid demands of the crown more palpable than ever. The safety of the Saintess, it seemed, was secondary to the political theater they were all entangled in.
The High Priest, in his role as the voice of reason and authority, smoothly interjected, calming the brewing storm with a few well-chosen words. "We must honor the King's decree. The path through the mountains remains our course," he stated firmly, leaving no room for further debate. His gaze met Izuku's, a clear message within his eyes urging compliance without the need for words.
Shifting the focus back to the task at hand, he continued, "Now, let us continue with the strategic elements of our route."
He leaned closer to the map, showing a region that was gaining prominence. "A pivotal part of our journey lies through House Marigold's domain. While their influence may not yet rival the principal houses, their rising power within the New Blood Faction and financial aid are critical to our cause," he explained, highlighting the path with precision. "A blessing in their lands will not just cement our alliance, but also reinforce our collective strength."
Turning his attention to the journey's end, the High Priest's tone became more contemplative. "The culmination of our pilgrimage in the capital will be a momentous occasion," he remarked. "At the Royal Temple, beside the King, the Saintess will fulfill his sacred role. Yet, we must navigate carefully; House Thornfield's sway in the capital is significant. Vigilance is paramount until our mission is complete."
The King, though reassured by the High Priest's strategic outline, remained adamant about the expedition's urgency. "Let there be no hindrances," he insisted, his voice a blend of command and expectation.
"Of course, Your Majesty, but with the arrival of the Saintess, and your claim to the throne solidified, I hope you will continue with your unwavering support of the Holy Temple?" the High Priest inquired, his tone a careful blend of deference and expectation.
The King's image within the orb flickered, a brief pause preceding his response. "Once the Saintess gives birth to my heir, then consider the Temple's sway within the empire as an extension of my power."
A faint smile played on the High Priest's lips, an acknowledgment of the mutually beneficial relationship they shared. "Indeed, Your Majesty. The upcoming pilgrimage will serve as a strong affirmation of this unity, underlining the sacred bond between the crown and the divine," he assured, his words echoing the sentiment of cooperation that bordered on complicity.
The orb's light dimmed, the connection fading as the King added, "Do not disappoint me, High Priest."
As the orb's light faded, cloaking the chamber once more in the dim warmth of candlelight, a solemn silence enveloped the room. The High Priest, his role as the placater to royalty momentarily set aside, now stood before Izuku in a guise more familiar yet daunting—the mentor whose commands had steered much of Izuku's path.
Izuku's heart tightened, an involuntary response to the familiar tone that had shaped so much of his existence.
"Izuku," the High Priest intoned, his voice slicing through the quiet with an authority that Izuku had come to both respect and dread. "The trust you afford others must now be measured more carefully than ever. The Saintess's allure, particularly now, will be a crucible for even the most steadfast." His warning laid bare the intricate web of their mission, a path fraught with dangers both known and concealed.
Izuku felt a cold draught sweep through him at the mention of Katsuki's vulnerability. The High Priest's words were a grim reminder of the complexity of their mission, of the multifaceted dangers that lurked on the path ahead.
"Preparations have been made. The wise women's concoctions will mitigate the worst of the Saintess's symptoms, dulling the call of his scent," the High Priest continued, his gaze piercing. "But no remedy is without its flaw. Your vigilance must be absolute, Izuku. The knights, while under our command, harbor their own wills and desires. Remember, the threat they may pose is as significant as any foe we anticipate."
Izuku nodded, the weight of his responsibility anchoring him in place. "I understand," he replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil that raged within him. His commitment to Katsuki's safety was absolute, a beacon that guided him through the shadow of doubt and fear.
However, as Izuku prepared to leave, a pressing question simmering within him rose to the fore. "What lies ahead for the Saintess, after his duty is realized?" he inquired, his voice steady yet underscored by a tide of latent concern and unease.
The High Priest's reply was stark, devoid of warmth. "After the heir's birth, Katsuki will have served his purpose. His life henceforth will be one of seclusion, far removed from the kingdom's heart and the temple's halls," he stated, his detachment mirroring the coldness of the chamber's stone.
The finality in his words struck Izuku, sealing a bitter truth he had dared not fully acknowledge. With a heavy heart, izuku left the High Priest's chambers, his heart heavy.
Beneath the star-filled sky, Izuku navigated the cool night towards Katsuki's quarters. The emblem on his cloak, a red ruby within gold—mirroring Katsuki's unique appearance—caught the moon's soft glow. What once symbolized his protective vow now weighed heavily upon him, its significance marred by the contradiction of his orders.
Leading Katsuki to the King, directly against his will, felt like a betrayal, transforming the emblem from a badge of honor into a marker of impending treachery. This mission seemed less about protection and more about delivering Katsuki into unwelcome hands.
With each step, Izuku's determination grew. The prospect of Katsuki, relegated to solitude after being used, fanned the flames of defiance within him.
His decision was firm: he desired no wealth, no land, no title. If Katsuki's fate was a lifetime of confined isolation than Izuku would ask for nothing more than to be allowed to share in his fate.