Chapter Text
Three months.
It had been three months since Hanush had a sent a letter to the Devils Den requesting he return to Rattay within the fortnight.
Instead of complying with that request, he and Henry had spent the time making sense of their newfound relationship, exploring each other in both body and spirit under satin sheets, and carving their deepest fears and desires onto one another’s souls. It was the exact opposite of what he should have been doing, yet life had never felt so worth living to him than in those lazy mornings spent under the warming sun.
They couldn’t run forever though.
So, here they were, sat silently on their horses in front of an all too familiar drawbridge. Most of the Skalitz refugees had relocated to Pribyslavitz now, and the road leading to Pirkstein seemed almost eerily quiet.
“What if we just go back to Trosky? I hear the hunting is particularly good at this time of year...”
Henry turned towards him with a grin, shaking his head in exasperation. The fact that he had nearly been hanged for his crimes wasn’t exactly a fond memory, but at least they could openly make a joke about the whole affair without immediately reopening a wound.
“Aye, in truth I’d say you might have better odds against Von Bergow than Lord Hanush, all things considered”
Hans sighed, taking a deep breath and adjusting his grip on the reigns. “Let’s just get this over with”
He spurred his horse into action, passing over the threshold and into the town that, by birth right, would one day be his own. Things in Rattay seemed different now; more subdued in the shadow of the political and religious tensions running deep through Bohemia. The moment they entered the once bustling market square, Mutt ran past them, barking happily as he made his way across the cobbles.
“Mutt, heel!”
The words died on Henry’s tongue as they watched the blur of brown and white fur disappear into the butchers yard. The wily creatures plan to guilt the closest fool into a smoked sausage or two was clear, and Hans doubted that he would have much trouble with his task given how many fond acquaintances the dog had made throughout the region.
“Does that monster ever listen to you at all Henry?”
“Ah he’s just a free spirit, that’s all”
“Disobedient then, just like his master” he hummed, smiling as Henry rolled his eyes.
They finally arrived in the upper castle courtyard. Once upon a time, Hans would have been relieved to see the familiar stone walls and yellow banners that once felt like home, but today, he simply felt like a lamb being lead to slaughter.
He dismounted his horse, giving the chestnut stallion a quick pat on the neck before falling into place behind Henry. The tower seemed so imposing now, and the threat of an unwanted future looming over him made him feel like he was back at Nebakov all over again, trapped under the falling rubble with no feasible way out.
They walked in silence to the staircase, pausing briefly when they reached the top. He wasn’t quite sure what to say; after all, how were you supposed to comfort the person you loved moments before setting in motion your wedding to another?
In the end, it didn’t matter. Henry cleared his throat, putting a stop to his spiralling thoughts.
“Would now be a good time to tell you that our- um… sparring session yesterday left a rather interesting bruise on your neck?”
He sent the other a look that, if weaponised, likely could have ended the war in Bohemia right then and there. Slowly, he lifted a hand to rub at the tender flesh, the image of Henry attacking his throat like a wild dog in heat the night before entering the forefront of his mind with alarming clarity. He briefly considered rearranging his hood to conceal the mark from view, but one look at Henry’s half amused grin stopped him dead in his tracks.
No.
He would wear the mark like a badge of honour and defiance; a clear reminder to the outside world that his heart, soul, and body were already claimed by another, regardless of what the men in control of his future wanted to believe.
“God, give me strength…” He muttered to himself, steeling his shaking hands and pushing through the heavy oaken door. They didn’t stop walking until they were standing side by side in the room where his uncle took council, having forgone the act of knocking altogether. His life was already forfeit regardless of his choice to announce their arrival, so what did it truly matter in the end.
“Good morning Uncle. Sir Radzig…Sir Divish”
Three familiar faces stared back at him from across the table. He supposed it was rather fitting that all the nobility of the region would be here to witness the verbal execution that would be heard as far as Prague.
He suddenly felt very small and outnumbered, the urge to run crashing into him so violently that his legs almost acted of their own accord without his mind having a say on the matter. The shift in his demeanour didn’t go unnoticed though. Henry moved forwards slowly to stand next to him, brushing his fingers lightly with his own in a quiet gesture that spoke a thousand words of support.
“I have come to discuss the wedding” he stated with previously unfound confidence.
Hanush regarded him shortly before letting out a noise that sounded more like a bark than a laugh. There was no humour to be found in his voice though, and Hans immediately realised that he had gravely miscalculated the severity of the situation.
“Wedding? There is to be no wedding boy! Jitka has found herself a more willing suitor in your absence!”
Of all the ways he had expected the conversation about his future engagement to go, the possibility of the wedding being taken off the table entirely had never even crossed his mind. Under any other circumstances, he would have been delighted to find out that he was once again a free man, but right now, as he stared his uncle down in a castle he had known all his life, he only felt a deep, burning sense of shame. He was wholly unprepared to defend himself, and it struck him then that he had never seen his uncle this furious before.
Angry? Naturally.
Disappointed? That was almost a daily occurrence.
But so enraged that he looked poised to strike him down then and there? That was certainly a novel experience, and not one he was prepared to repeat any time soon, god willing.
“Three months. Three god forsaken months you dragged your heels through the dirt. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The shame of it; you’d be lucky to find a bath wench this side of Hungary that’s interested in wedding the likes of you now!”
Hans winced, an ugly blush of humiliation crawling up his neck. It was bad enough that he had to suffer Hanush’s wraith in the first place, but the fact that he had to bare it in front of not only Henry’s father, but Sir Divish too was almost enough to make him throw in the cloth and crawl back to the Devils Den with his tail between his legs.
“I have half a mind to make good on that threat to send you to Polna! God above boy, every time I think that maybe you’ve learned something, you show me what a fool I’ve been!”
“I…”
His cheeks were burning red now, and there was no doubt at all in his mind that the little respect the other lords of the region once held for him was now lost with no hope of return.
Somehow, though, he couldn’t quite find it in him to care.
Because there, lingering just in the corner of his eye, was Henry.
Henry, who despite his best attempts to seem unphased by the development, looked so ecstatic with the news that the disgrace and worry seemed to melt away until all that was left was a deep and gratifying sense of hope.
“-and you! You wage war across half of Bohemia, yet the simple act of bringing this idiot home is too much for you?”
Hans snapped back to attention, determined to spare his companion from the same fate that he was currently enduring.
“Uncle, that’s not fair, Henry has been nothing but faithful-”
“Enough! I don’t want to so much as hear a whisper from you for the next fortnight. Now, get out of my sight!”
Hans wasn’t quite certain what possessed him in that moment. Perhaps it was the embarrassment that finally pushed him over the edge, or, perhaps more likely, it was the fact that Hanush had chosen to attack Henry too.
He knew one thing for certain though.
If Hanush was going to treat him like a petulant child, then a petulant child he would get.
“As you wish, my lord”
He threw his hands out to the side in a mock bow, the gesture all together disrespectful and designed to piss his uncle off even further. Divish looked positively appalled, letting out a huff of disapproval at his blatant act of rebellion. Radzig, to his surprise, simply raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them as if trying to make sense of particularly intricate riddle.
He didn’t bother to look at Hanush, turning around to give Henry the space to shuffle out of the room sheepishly before slamming the door with far more force than necessary.
“Kurva!”
They walked side by side until they reached the courtyard, where he all but collapsed with a dramatic whine against the railing overlooking the small square, head in hands.
“I think that went well” Henry announced after a few moments, leaning over next to him so that their shoulders touched.
“Another word and I’ll have you flogged so thoroughly that Godwin will hear you all the way in Kuttenberg” he muttered back through muffled palms, not bothering to remove his fingers from where they were digging into his eye sockets.
It was a completely empty threat and they both knew it. It was almost a tradition at this point; Henry would push, he would push back, and the line in the sand between them would become ever more blurred. The only problem with their little arrangement was that one day, Henry had pushed so hard that he’d carved a space out for himself deep inside Hans’ heart, and decided to make his home there.
“Is that a promise or a threat, Sir Hans?”
The response was so completely outrageous that the laugh had torn itself from his throat before his brain had the chance to fully process the words.
It was moments like this that he remembered why he had fallen in love with Henry in the first place. The Skalitz boy never ceased to amaze him with his endless wit and defence of authority, even when it was thrown in his direction most of the time.
“It can be whatever you want it to be, blacksmiths boy” he responded with a smirk, grabbing the fabric of the others arm to lead them both down the stairs.
“Come on, I need a drink”
Despite it all, the chaos and the uncertainty, they were going to be ok. He was free again, and for the moment, that was all that mattered.