And I Know It's I That Thou Wouldst Choose

by Suddenly_Summer

Summary:

Prince Hal had everything he could ever want, including the love of his childhood friend, Richard of Conisburgh, 3rd Earl of Cambridge.

So when his love is betrothed to another, Hal's dreams crumble at his feet.

Can fate ever be reversed?

Notes:

Title is taken from the Child ballad "The King's Dochter Lady Jean", later covered in the 1970s by Indigenous performer Buffy Sainte-Marie under a rather scandalous title.

I kept forgetting both in history and in the film Hal and Cambridge were cousins; I intentionally wrote them as childhood friends, but the reader is free to take whatever dynamic they wish.

Chapter 1

Hal sat crouched down upon the forest floor, his gaze focused on the young man before him. One couldn't tell merely by looking at him how graceful he was, how handy he was with a bow and arrow. His gaze never broke, though his tongue flicked out to flick his chapped lips. Completely and totally enraptured, he didn't notice the piece of fallen tree under his feet crack, startling the hind out in the clearing.

"Damn it!," Richard yelled, lowering his bow. "Damn you, Hal."

"I'm sorry." The prince sprang to his feet, flustered. "There will be more deer. There are more. I-"

"Don't worry about it," Richard shook his head. "There will be more opportunities, you're right."

"I'm sorry," The young prince repeated, guilt filling his mind.

"It's not like we don't have access to food," The young earl replied, soothing Hal's fears. He secured the bow and arrow back in their rightful places in the quiver. "All is forgiven. Plus, how could I ever be angry at you?"

Hal smiled, leaning against a tree trunk.

"Certainly I could make you angry, I just haven't thought of a way to do so yet."

"Oh, so you will,?" Richard set the quiver on the forest floor, approaching him. He took Hal's chin in his hand, tilting it upward.
Before Hal could say anything more, Richard kissed him, slow and tender at first, but the kiss became more passionate as Hal responded, arms clinging to his lean back as he moaned softly into his mouth. Richard's thin fingers tangled in Hal's raven curls, a free hand running up his thigh.

"I love you, my earl," Hal whispered. "I want to marry you."

"And I you, my prince. I love you more than anything."

"I don't care what anyone tells us, or what my father says. I just want you. You and no one else."

They both knew neither the king nor the Duke of York would ever allow them to marry. But they could hope. One day, maybe.

-

It felt at times that they were fated to be one, as if their love had been ordained by God long before any priest could bless it.
Ever since Prince Henry could remember - possibly even as a babe in the cradle - Richard of Conisburgh had been there, always gazing upon the young prince with love. As children they were inseparable, often playing together for hours. As they grew older and after Thomas and Philippa had come along, they looked after Henry's siblings, keeping them out of trouble and stopping them wreaking havoc amongst the palace.

Moments like those only strengthened their bond. As he flowered into the bloom of youth, with skin as pale as a pearl, his hair and eyes as black as onyx, Henry suddenly felt a strange tug in his heart upon looking at or even thinking of his dearest friend. He noticed Richard's gaze soften in his presence, as if in awe of him. Hal would blush and give him a shy smile, unsure of how to respond.
It felt silly to think of Richard in such a way. Given the circumstances of his birth and rank, no one would be in a hurry to be mated by and wed to him. He had been a somewhat sickly youth, culminating in a young lad who was too thin for his lanky frame, pale and malnourished looking.
Yet, there was more to him than what eyes perceived or the royal purse knew. He was talented with both bow and sword, well-read and soft spoken, never quick to anger.

But yet, their hearts were set aflame. Shy kisses in moments of privacy gave way to long caresses and tender murmurs of affection. In the seclusion of the royal stables on the sweet hay and in the shade of the forests around the royal estates gave them even more means to explore their budding yet burning passion; Richard proved himself to be an excellent lover, even though awkward and fumbling at first, no area of Hal's ivory skin was left unkissed, his hands gentle and aware to the movements of his body, ears alert to any moans of pleasure or pain.

It was their world, their kingdom. At least only in their minds.

"When I become king, my love, I will make you my consort. I promise you."

-

Gray skies were an omen, Hal thought as he gazed upon the dreary sky. They could bring rain, but they oft brought horrendous things. His mother had perished during a particularly horrendous storm, a day he had remembered all too well - it was the day Philippa had been born.

He waited for whatever storm was to come as he waited for Richard, trying to steady his nerves. He hadn't seen his love in days, something that worried him greatly.

Minutes felt like hours to him, but he swallowed he swallowed his anxiety deep down into his stomach.

When he finally caught sight of his love, he ran across the courtyard to him. It was unseemly, it wasn't proper, but he didn't care. He felt Richard's arms around him tightly, his embrace breathing renewed life into Henry.

"Are you alright?," Hal whispered.
Richard didn't respond, but once the prince's grip loosened, he gently kissed his hand.

"I'm fine," he finally spoke, his voice low. "My dear prince, my love, I must speak to you at once."

"Well, speak now," Hal commanded.

Richard kissed him softly before speaking.

"Hal, Henry, my dearest, my-" he caught himself, drawing a trembling breath. "I am so sorry, please forgive me."

"Are you to be sent off, my earl?" Hal questioned. "It will be alright, there's no need to-"

"It has already been decided, Hal. I protested, yet…My family has chosen another to be my bride. The match would bring me a larger fortune. But oh, my dove, I would live a pauper's life for you-"

Hal didn't respond, his body trembled from the shock.

"You-," he finally spoke, voice quavering. "You have chosen another?"

"I had no say in the matter. My father shall disown me if I don't accept her hand," Richard replied, voice barely a whisper. "Henry, you must understand-"

"Who?"

"The Earl of March's daughter. She is wealthy."

"Have you met her yet?"

"No. But..Hal, please don't try and talk me out of this. I…I cannot refuse."

"You promised I would be wed to you. We both promised," Lightning flashed in Hal's black eyes. "God smiled down on us in his favor when no one else did! It was you and I, always!"

"I know. And I still love you. I always will love you-"

"How long have you known about this? Since you laid with me last?"

Richard cast his eyes down, his jaw clenched.

"Listen to me. We can still be together. I will still visit you, I can still love you as I always have loved you. It won't matter, many people have arrangements like this. Commoners, too-"

"No. I refuse to play the concubine, and I will always refuse. How could you even think of this?"

"Hal, please, I love you," Richard reached for his hand, only for the prince to withdraw it.

"If you loved me, you wouldn't do this. We can run away, you can-"

"We would both be ruined," Richard gave a sharp sigh. "Henry, it is done."

"You're right. It is done. Go to her, forget me. You have made a mockery of me."

Hal turned from him, walking as quick as he could. He refused to let the man he loved see him cry. Tears did not fall until he was well in his chambers, ignorant of the rain beginning to fall upon the leaded windows.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Hal makes a decision.

Hal had seen Anne de Mortimer in passing, but had never been formally introduced. How he wished she would have been a fat, blowsy woman; maybe then Richard would have called off the engagement and fall back into his arms.
But his heart dropped upon seeing her and Cambridge at court. Anne was plump, but not grossly fat as he had prayed, and very well-kempt with masses of auburn hair and rosy cheeks. The only fault the prince could detect in Anne was her slightly crossed eyes.

Hal had been trying to keep a close eye on Thomas, desperate to stay out of Cambridge's gaze. Everyone in the royal court knew Thomas was still young, headstrong and prone to romantic notions. Thomas was the only thing keeping Hal from breaking down. Thomas was a handful, but it was worth it to keep him from becoming hysterical.
Thomas huffed as Hal put his arm around his shoulders.

"You've been upset forever, and now you want me?" He whispered.

"Thomas, please." Hal replied, his voice low.

Thomas looked back over his shoulder, catching sight of Anne and Richard.

"Oh." He mouthed, giving him a sad look. "I'm so sorry it didn't-"

"Hush. I'll be fine."

"You'll find someone new, brother. Father will find you someone."

Hal shook his head.

"He'd have a better time finding you a mate. I'll be okay, Thomas."

He turned his head, looking out of the corner of his eye at his former lover and his lover's bride to be. They looked happy. He looked happy.
Hal drew a shallow breath.
It was then and there he decided.

"Thomas, come."

He took his little brother's hand and led him out to the castle entryway under the portcullis.

"It's yours, brother."

"What is, Hal?"

"The kingdom, of course. Once Father dies, England will be yours. You will be king, not I. He prefers you much more than me, we both know that."

Thomas' brow furrowed.

"What? You can't just throw this away just because Richard has to marry someone else! You can rule without someone-"

"It pains me too much."

"But brother, when you're king, he'll be under you. You can make him divorce her and marry you."

"You forget our most holy Church, Thomas."

"Or you could accuse her of witchcraft." Thomas replied, a mischievous smile spreading on his face.

"Those things…go both ways." Hal muttered with a frown. "Father was an usurper, a bastard king. As a result, we are not untouchable.
Thomas, I can't stay here. I can't bear seeing them together, it will drive me mad."

"Shouldn't you tell Father? Where will you go?"

He smiled weakly. Poor Thomas, still just a boy.

"You're the next king now, Thomas. You tell him."

-

And so Prince Henry ended up in Eastcheap, princely vestments shed, merely one of the locals. No longer a bastard prince, but just a regular yet terribly pretty young lad.

The tavern was a dreary place in theory, but in form it held excitement for him. He could easily dull the pain of his broken heart. He was free to drink his pain away and to seek oblivion.

His eyes sought amongst the sea of commoners as a bard played, plucking a lute and singing a morose tune.

As I was walking all alone,
I heard two ravens making a moan.
The one unto the other did say,
Where shall we go and dine today,
Oh…?

The song was so sad, but he didn't mind it. In a way, it soothed his heart. Two ravens picking apart a dead knight, because everyone else in his life had forsaken him.
Just like Richard had forsaken Hal.

It didn't take him long to catch someone's attention. He looked nice. He would do. Hal grinned.

Many a one for him makes moan,
But none shall know where he has gone
Over his white bones when they are bare,
The wind shall blow forevermore…

If the good Earl of Cambridge was bedding someone else, why couldn't he?

Notes:

Little is known about Anne de Mortimer in the historical record, it is has been stated by historians she could have had red hair.

Henry IV is referred to as a "bastard" due to the fact he never held The Divine Right of Kings, he was an usurper, therefore never a legitimate king.

The ballad at the end of this chapter is the Scots ballad "Twa Corbies" ("Two Ravens" in English). It is Child 26/Roud 5 in the ballad index. This may be an anachronism as it is unknown when the ballad was written. I translated it from Scots into English as I know England and Scotland did *not* get along at the time.

Chapter 3

Summary:

Parallels.

(Warning: this chapter contains a mild, tastefully written sexual scene, and later in, brief mentions of sexual contact and implied sex work. Read at your discretion)

He didn't want this. But he knew he had to do his duty. It was a matter of wealth, not love.
But at least he could pretend.

His wedding was over, but through the ceremony, the inevitable loomed in the back of his mind.
And now the inevitable had arrived.

In the darkness of the Earl's bedchamber, flickering candlelight the only illumination, Richard's thin fingers tugged at the collar of the new Countess' nightgown. He worked in silence, pulling the garment down, allowing it to fall.

"Are you frightened?" He whispered. Hal was never frightened.

"No, my Lord." Anne replied.
She took Richard's hands and held them to her round breasts.
She kissed him gently, lowering herself to the edge of the bed before laying back, letting Richard hover over her.

He ran his hands over her body tentatively, closing his eyes. He tried to picture Henry's form; his hands stroked her warm body, imagining Anne's soft noises of pleasure coming from his beloved's mouth.
Richard felt Anne's hand reach his prick, groaning as he felt it stiffen under her touch.
She guided his hand between her legs to her plump delta, sighing as his fingers stroked her damp folds.

"Are you a-?"

"Yes, my Lord." Anne nodded in reply. "But I can tell you've done this before. Have you not?"

Richard grunted in response as Anne removed her hand from his engorged length.

"Were they beautiful?"

"No." Richard lied, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of his lie. "No one is as beautiful as you, Anne. No one in this world."
She was pretty - comely, even - but no one could compare to Henry.

He took a deep breath and mounted her quickly, hearing Anne gasp underneath him. She held him close as their bodies rocked together; Richard buried his face in Anne's hair, moaning in pleasure.

He was thankful his climax came quickly, a strange sound coming from his throat as he fought the urge to cry Hal's name.
Once Anne released him, sighing happily, Richard removed himself from her, laying on his side.

"Did I perform well?" She asked.

"Yes, you did. Very well, Countess."

"We will be happy together." Her arms wrapped around him. Richard felt his body stiffen only to relax as he kissed Anne's damp forehead.

"Goodnight, my love."

-

He knew fully well the Earl had been married. He also knew he should have attended the wedding, being a prince and a royal, but he knew his heart would plummet into even further darkness, despite having successfully walled it off.
There was nothing but cold steel and ice within his soul.

Nobles could slander him all they wanted. He didn't care that the Lancasterian name was being further dragged across the mud.

He also didn't mind being used by commoners. It was neither for pleasure nor money, although some poor folk would give him whatever they could muster, because he was a pretty, beguiling creature.
Men, women, prostitutes, they were all the same. They enjoyed toying with him. When tired of his member, they would insert themselves or their digits into his delta - it seemed the king's children had been cursed in such a way - or his backside. He knew things like these weren't strange, but the people of Eastcheap found him exotic, odd. Something to play with and abandon; this was just how he wanted it.

Let the House of Lancaster crumble. He didn't care.

In the dying candlelight, he looked over the man sleeping beside him. The loud snoring soothed his simpering anger as the Earl of Cambridge crossed his mind. But he knew the man would be gone soon and he would be left to drink his pain away. To project his rage through the viciousness of the cock-fights on the streets.

Henry was empty. A hedonistic void of a human being.
But he wanted it that way.

Notes:

There will be a large time skip between this chapter and chapter four, just a heads up.