Chapter Text
Henry? No, he wasn’t here. Hans closed the door to their room with a slight pout on his face. He had been here this morning.
The voices of the Devil’s Pack drifted up to him through the thin wood flooring. Despite the early hour, most of them were already busy either drinking or devising some deranged plan – or both. But Hans couldn’t imagine that Henry was with one of them. More likely he was busy on the other side of the world, rescuing some damsel in distress again.
Hans’ frown deepened as he descended the narrow staircase to the ground floor. Henry better not have forgotten his promise to go on a hunting trip with him, or he would be in serious trouble once he got back. Really, he shouldn’t be going away on adventures at all – not without Hans. But that’s how it had been these last few weeks. Henry got sent away on some terribly important, terribly secret mission, ever turning the gears of this war. And Hans was deemed too important, so he was kept secret. Like some fairytale princess, locked away in a tower. Only with much worse company. No romantic overgrown castle, no dragons standing watch, no white knight. Just a drunkard, a one-eyed drunkard, a drunkard who was weirdly obsessed with sausages, a drunkard who didn’t speak a word of Czech, a drunkard priest and a rank old inn in the middle of nowhere.
Not that Hans needed a white knight. If anything, he was supposed to be the knight in someone else’s tale. Maybe a golden one, riding a white horse, all the beautiful women making eyes at him. He suddenly had a sour taste in his mouth at that thought, and quickly pushed away the feeling that was threatening to crawl inside his heart.
Stepping outside, he saw Godwin leaning against the wall, a mug undoubtedly filled with something alcoholic in his hand.
“Good Morning, Sir Hans.”
“Have you seen Henry?“ Hans asked. „Uh, good morning.“
“He’s gone to the baths,” Godwin replied, taking a deep gulp of his drink. Hans felt as though someone had shot an arrow into his stomach. To the fucking baths or to the women who worked there?
“Ah,” he said curtly. “Well, I won’t disturb him then.”
It wasn’t that Hans was jealous. He could seduce some of the bathmaids if he wanted to, but he just hadn’t felt like it in a while. For no reason. Besides, Henry had promised him that they would go on a hunting trip together.
Godwin looked at him strangely. “He is just taking a bath as far as I know.”
“I don’t care,” Hans said. He winced at how clearly hurt his voice sounded. “It’s just that he promised me…” He closed his mouth. Now he sounded like some angry child. Definitely not like a lord.
Godwin was looking at him expectantly. “Nevermind,” Hans said quickly. “I’m gonna go look for him.”
“If you say so,” Godwin shrugged and took another swig, smiling for some reason.
Hans tried to keep his steps light, as he walked over to the bath tents. It was a beautiful day. The trees softly swayed in the wind, and birds were singing their songs. There was no reason to be in a bad mood this early in the morning.
“What can I do for you, good sir?” the bathhouse owner asked as he approached. Hans suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He had been here just yesterday evening and really didn’t need another bath.
“I’m waiting for my friend,” he replied truthfully. What had he been thinking? Did he just want to storm into one of the tents while Henry was bathing? He felt himself blushing. “Over there,” he said, pointing at one of the many benches next to the cooking pot.
“As you wish,” she said. If she thought he was behaving strangely, she didn’t show it.
Hans quickly sat down and crossed his arms. He tilted his head back, looking at the clear blue sky, and sighed deeply. The colour reminded him of Henry’s eyes.
No! This was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. This was not behaviour befitting a lord, running after his own squire. He was just about to stand up again and walk back to the Devil’s Den – strange looks be damned – when something wet brushed against his hand.
Surprised, he yelped and pulled his hand back. A grin split his face when he looked down. “Hello, Mutt.”
Henry’s dog looked up at him and wagged his tail, trying to reach his hands again so he could lick them.
“No! Stop that!” Hans laughed and tried petting his neck. God help him, he was way too fond of that little thing. But he really couldn’t help it, not when he looked up at him with those big eyes.
“Is Henry not giving you enough attention?” he asked as Mutt sniffed his hands. “That makes two of us.“ Mutt looked up at him and tilted his head. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
“Tell me what?” a voice asked. The familiar baritone sent shivers down Hans’ spine. Very uncalled for.
“Noth-” he said, looking up at Henry before immediately choking on the word.
Henry had evidently just exited the bath, holding a towel in his hand. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his skin was flushed from heat. Water droplets were running down his broad chest and arms.
God was testing him. Hans was sure of it. He must have done something really bad, and now God was personally trying to get him dragged down to hell.
He coughed. “Nothing,” he continued as if nothing had happened, trying really hard not to stare. Stop this. Henry was his friend. His only friend. There wasn’t a place for any of the thoughts lurking on the edge of his mind right now. If only he could keep pretending not to have these feelings; it had worked great for such a long time.
“Mutt and I were just wondering whether or not you had forgotten your promise,” he said. His voice sounded normal, he thought, satisfied.
“To go hunting?” Henry smiled and Hans’ heart fluttered nervously. Could he at least put on a shirt? That surely wasn’t too much to ask. He noticed one of the bathmaids staring at them and narrowed his eyes at her.
“Yes, of course to go hunting. I was all set to go this morning, but then you disappeared.”
“Apologies, my lord,” Henry said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t realise you wanted to join me while I bathed.”
“I didn’t! You don’t… I never…” Horrified, Hans felt himself flushing hard. The memory of Henry and himself together in a bath – albeit partially clothed – snuck into his head. What had he been thinking back then, inviting Henry to go to the bathhouse with him to get drunk? He had cursed himself then without even knowing it. Cursed himself with the memory of thin, white fabric clinging to Henry’s arms and chest, and warm skin far too close to his own.
“Jesus, Hans, relax,” Henry said. “It was just a joke.”
“I know, it was just tasteless,” Hans said, which earned him an incredulous look. After all, he usually thrived on everything tasteless.
He winced. “Sorry, I’m in a bad mood. You will need to distract me very thoroughly on our hunting trip.” That sounded wrong. Hans barely resisted the urge to hide his own face behind his hands.
This was going too far. He couldn’t even pretend not to know what was happening with him anymore. Maybe he should have gone to church more. Maybe Henry was one of the devil’s minions, sent to seduce him. Very unbelievable, knowing Henry. Maybe Hans had just always been rotten and he hadn’t realised it. All he really knew was that he really, really wanted to go on a hunting trip with Henry. In fact it might be the only thing in this world he wanted.
“I will do my best,” Henry said, and he smiled at him. Hans’ heart fluttered again. That was the worst part. He understood lust. He understood it very well. But for better or worse, he had never been in love before. And it made him feel weak and confused and entirely obsessed. He didn’t like it, but the thought of not loving Henry hurt like ripping his own heart out.
“Come on then,” Henry said.
When Hans stood up, Henry put a hand on the small of his back to gently push him in the right direction. His hand lingered there for just a second too long, but it was enough to make sparks shoot up Hans’ spine. He shivered.
Henry – thankfully – put on a shirt before leaving the baths completely.
“Let me get our stuff,” said Hans. He didn’t want to stay a moment longer in that rank old inn. “You get the horses ready, and then we can ride out.”
Henry seemed surprised by the sudden urgency, but he just shrugged. “As you wish.”
Hans hurriedly walked up the stairs to their room and threw open the door. What to take? Some food of course, but he would get that downstairs. He instead got two blankets, their hunting equipment, and he also picked up Henry’s sword. He wouldn’t need it on their trip, but the man rarely ever went anywhere without it, so he would want to take it with him. Hans couldn’t blame him. It was an extraordinarily well made blade, and of course the history it shared with Henry was special.
They would, however, need their bows. Hans got his own out of his chest. He had used it just yesterday, shooting some targets out of sheer boredom. Henry’s bow, however, was hidden deeper beneath all of his clothes and equipment. At the end of the day he was a man of the sword, Hans supposed. He smiled when he saw the finely carved wood. So he had kept it. Hans had wondered. The bow was almost prettier than his own. After all it had been a gift, and Hans didn’t want anyone thinking he was ungenerous, especially not towards Henry, who had saved his life countless times.
Maybe he should gift him with something better. The thought made Hans giddy. But Henry liked his sword and he loved his horse, so none of those were an option.
He mulled over the question while putting some of the expensive wine he kept hidden under his bed into the bag. No hunting trip without good wine.
Maybe a book? Did Henry even like reading? Hans had seen him read a book about horses once. Very slowly. He discarded the thought. A book seemed too unspectacular as a present from someone like him. It needed to be something grand.
He went down the stairs and picked up some supplies from the kitchen. Just some dried meat, fruits, and bread. That would do. Maybe some really expensive armour? If Henry were a woman, he could give him jewelry, but Hans doubted he would be happy over a sapphire necklace. What a bind.
Hans stepped outside into the bright sunlight and saw Henry already there, holding the reigns of their horses. He was wearing more suitable clothes for hunting. The light made his dark hair shimmer slightly and he looked over with those heaven-blue eyes, smiling. Hans’s heart skipped a beat. He would give him that, he thought. His heart. But like the necklace, he wasn’t sure Henry would want it.
He took Caballus’ reigns from Henry.
“I’ve got everything we need,“ he said, handing Henry his bag and sword.
“Alright, ready to hunt some boar?“ There was a sparkle in Henry’s eyes, when he said that. Hans sighed dramatically.
“You’re never letting that go, are you?“
“No,“ he said simply, mounting Pebbles. Hans rolled his eyes, and climbed on Caballus’ back.
“Careful with those insolent words, before you lose my favour.“
“Like that’s likely to happen,“ Henry replied, entirely too sure of himself. Hans scoffed. When had he become so impudent? Hans remembered their first proper conversation, which had ended in a fistfight. Oh right. He had always been like that. Maybe that’s why Hans liked him so much.
Henry didn’t know the way to the little hunting camp, so Hans took the lead, following the sandy road out into the open fields. Caballus was ecstatic to be out in the wild again, surging ahead and throwing his head up. His brown fur was shining in the sunlight. Hans had brushed him thoroughly just yesterday, mentally already in the forest with Henry.
“Care for a race?“ Hans called over to Henry.
“You wanna beat me again?“ Henry called back. “Well I’ll have you know, me and Pebbles trained quite a bit since the last time. She is faster than the wind now.“
Hans laughed. “Really? Show me then! To that treeline over there!“ He pointed at a dark green line in the distance.
“Bet,“ Henry called and before Hans knew what was happening, Pebbles shot past him like a gray flash.
“Hey!“ Hans yelled. “No headstarts!“ He kicked his horse’s flanks and Caballus immediately responded to the command, picking up the pace.
The wind roared in his ears, taking his breath away, as he leaned down. An ocean of green and clear blue stretched in front of them. A laugh broke through his throat. He couldn’t have stopped it, even if he would have wanted to. For the first time in weeks he felt truly alive. They both had gone through so much shit in the past few months, but out here the war seemed to be a forgotten tale from a distant land. There were no kings, no soldiers, and no burned villages, just the endless sky above them.
Despite his later start, Hans caught up with Henry. Caballus had been raring to go faster, his muscles shifting beneath Hans in a powerful rhythm. In the end he was just a few feet behind Henry when they reached the treeline and slowed down their horses.
“Doesn’t count“, Hans called immediately, slightly out of breath. “You cheated.“
“Sure it counts,“ Henry answered. “Just be better.“
Hans gasped mildly offended. “This isn’t over. You cheated and I demand retribution.“ He was smiling despite himself.
“Whatever you say, Hans“, Henry said, dropping all honorifics now that it was just the two of them. It made Hans feel funny. While they followed the trail through the woods, he wondered if he had ever been this close to anyone at all. If he had ever felt so comfortable around someone, and that someone around him.
He must have been close with his parents, but he barely remembered them. And his uncle… well he was alright.
His gaze shifted over to Henry, catching him softly brushing Pebbles’s mane and his heart did the thing again. Even though he had expected it this time, it still felt like being thrown into open water, not knowing whether he could swim. No, he had never felt this way for anyone. It should scare him more than it actually did. He was drowning in the sweetest poison and he couldn’t find within him the will to fight it.
In this moment, in the soft shadows under the trees, the sky hidden, no-one else around, he allowed himself to look at Henry’s profile. The dark hair was tousled by the wind. Hans’s gaze slid down to the defined jawline, the broad shoulders, followed the seams of his dark blue gambeson. Hans liked seeing him in this more laid back attire. Though he really didn’t mind seeing Henry in full armour as well. He rarely managed to avert his eyes, whenever he saw him in cuirass and chainmail, gripping his sword with confidence.
Hans felt heat crawling onto his face and he quickly looked down to the reigns between his fingers. Dear God, he wasn’t some blushing virgin. This was ridiculous. He shouldn’t be this affected by the image of a man in armour.
His eyes flicked up again, this time landing on Henry’s thighs. He could see his muscles flexing, working to control his horse.
Surprisingly this did not help his blush at all. He swallowed dryly and stared back down at his hands. No more looking over. This was enough. No looking for the rest of this ride. Certainly not at the camp. Especially no looking at all once they had started drinking the wine he had brought. Oh, why had he brought wine? Wine and looks would be his demise.
Hans looked over to Henry again. Fuck.
And if that hadn’t been enough, his gaze caught on the most lethal thing of them all. Henry – the bastard – was looking back at him, with those blue doe-eyes and long lashes. He gave him a crooked smile.
“What are you looking at?“, he asked, almost teasingly.
Hans wanted to die. “Nothing,“ he said hoarsly. Not suspicious at all. “We’re almost there.“
The hunting camp was hidden a few paces away from the trail, they had been following. It looked pretty much exactly like Hans had left it, when he had last been here. There was a burned out fire pit and a few sleeping spots, covered in leaves. Perfect for one or two days of peace. Hans breathed in deeply. He had been waiting for this. To just get out again, do something, be with Henry.
“Alright, shall we get to hunting immediately or do you want a fire first?“, Henry asked him, while they dismounted their horses and tied them loosely to a nearby tree.
“Let’s have a fire. I just want to settle for a bit, there is plenty of daylight left.“ Hans smiled softly. This would be a good trip.