Chapter Text
“Come on, sweetie! Your mother is waiting for you!”
Henry’s gruff voice boomed from the front door, echoing from the wall of his modest apartment while he waited. He checked his wristwatch, taking mental notes of the best route to take to Theresa’s loft. Time was already running thin. Henry was about to call again when he heard the dull, solid sound of boots against the hardwood floor.
“ Dad , stop calling me that.” Henry just smiled at the exasperation in his daughter's voice. He could see her mother so clearly in her, in the way her brown hair framed her cheekbones and her nose was softly shaped with a gentle tip. Henry was pleasantly surprised the first time the sight of Theresa in his daughter’s features didn’t bring forth the familiar sting of a failed marriage. It had taken time, but he felt the three of them were in a good place. At last.
Her blue eyes, however, were all Henry’s. It was foolish to feel pride over something he hadn’t earned, a mere twist of fate, but still, Henry’s heart swelled with joy every time he looked at his daughter.
“Then what should I call you, sweetie? ” The resounding groan from her daughter was music to his ears.
“ Ugh, what about my name?” she said with a glare.
“Sure, that’s perfect! Let’s go, my sweet Pebbles.” Henry couldn’t help the grin that spread from his face.
“Dad, can you please stop telling my friends why you call me that? It’s embarrassing.”
Henry couldn’t help but laugh at the accusation, because he was guilty as charged. Just weeks ago, Pebbles had celebrated her twelfth birthday with a cozy party. He had been so happy at seeing his daughter surrounded by so many people who cared about her that the story had just slipped from his mouth. One moment he was recounting how, when she was but a small child, she loved to put all forms and shapes of rocks into her mouth, like some deranged squirrel that preferred pebbles rather than acorns. It was hilarious, though, as Henry had added to save face as a parent, a little unhygienic. Only Theresa’s gentle reprimand stopped Henry from continuing the story.
He had earned two days of silent treatment from Pebbles because of his little imprudence.
“Fine, I promise! But let’s get going,” Henry said.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t want Mom to tear you a new one, I know.” As Pebbles passed by him and through the door, Henry tried to ruffle her hair, but the rascal was well-accustomed to his tactics and evaded him swiftly while sticking out her tongue. It tugged at Henry’s heart.
Moments like those made the hushed disillusionment that dwelled deep in his heart feel distant and trivial.
Henry’s car was a gray 2017 Škoda Octavia that ran as smoothly as if it were new, and its extra space had been a major selling point for him. Henry took great pride in the state of his car, upheld by his careful and persistent ministrations. If only the inner workings of gears and motors would translate to the back of his car.
“You really need to clear all the garbage here. It’s disgusting, Dad,” Pebbles admonished him as she took in the state of the backseats, which were full of clutter and things she couldn’t—or just wouldn’t—dare to analyze.
Henry just gave her his best sheepish smile. He didn’t need to turn to know what his daughter was looking disapprovingly at: a mesh of wires, tools, pins, and nails; a tangle of cords, bolts, screwdrivers, and rusted metal parts; a welding project he hadn’t had the time to finish entangled with drill bits and wire coils. There could even be a turnip there, somewhere. Eventually, he would organize the mess. Throwing things out, however, was another compromise Henry wasn’t sure he was strong enough to make. After all, only two people ever used the car.
The ride was pleasant, music filling the comfortable silence that stretched between words. Seeing Pebbles tapping her foot with the beat of Henry’s preferred songs was nothing short of pure delight to him. Henry had been trying to imprint his music taste on his daughter for years, and it gave him a mischievous sense of pride to know it was working. He tried to tell himself it was just that and not fear of the growing distance between a dad and his pre-teen daughter.
Before long, they arrived at Theresa’s loft and climbed out of the car. Conveniently, the ride wasn’t long, making the constant trips all that easier. They were incredibly fortunate to have agreed on joint custody without any disputes. Over the years, Pebbles even got a say in the arrangement, choosing which weeks to stay with whom depending on what was most convenient at the time. Henry really appreciated that her time was shared evenly between them—bless her heart.
The location sharing arrangement they'd agreed to for Pebbles came in handy, as Theresa was already waiting at the front door of her apartment complex when they arrived.
“Hi, darling. Did anything crawl out of your dad’s trunk and try to strangle you today?” There was a warm smile on Theresa’s face, her tone teasing.
“It did, but I bribed it with snacks. Crisis averted. Hi, Mom.” They shared a hug while dutifully ignoring Henry’s appalled face. By now, he should be used to both of them ganging up on him at every chance.
“Excuse me! I would have defended you with all my might!” Henry protested, mock indignation clear on his face. Pebbles just rolled her eyes in defiance.
“Our own knight in shining armor. Maybe lay off a little on the kolaches so I can trust you with the safety of Pebbles without any doubts.” Theresa smirked at him, and oh, that was a new teasing low from her! So, yeah, maybe he had put on some extra weight in the past few years, but it was nothing to scoff at. He was still capable as hell, thank you very much.
“Please, the kolaches are the source of my power, I couldn’t lay off them even if I wanted.” He let out a laugh mixed with a huff. Deep down, he was glad they could speak to each other like that, like the friends they were before they married.
“Do you have everything, sweetie?” Henry asked Pebbles.
“Yes, Dad. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
“Now, now. Where’s my goodbye hug?” Henry extended his arms towards Pebbles, who sighed again. These days, those little huffs might as well have been her favorite activity. Henry didn’t mind because he saw the smile that crept on her face while they hugged.
“Listen to your mother. You know she’s always right.” He said while saying his farewells to both of them.
Henry got into his car and started it, racing through his mind for the best route to downtown Prague to arrive in record time. It was his day off, and in his line of work, he got so few of them. When he was younger, he thought he would have all the time in the world to do as he pleased, a world of adventure waiting to happen. Life had a funny way of setting him straight, though. In his mid-thirties, with each passing year, Henry found time slipping through his fingers, never quite enough to hold on to.
Sometimes, the world felt dull and gray.
As he arrived at Prague’s downtown and parked, Henry chastised himself. He was blessed in so many ways. He had a good life, what more could he ask for?
He went down the street to one of his favorite suppliers of welding tools. Henry was pleased to see that everything he wanted was in one place, which saved him time. He bought a new pair of welding gloves, a chipping hammer, and a set of ear protectors, all intended for personal use on one of his particular projects.
“Henry, welcome! Buying more supplies?” Adéla, an older woman who worked in the store, greeted Henry with a fond smile, which Henry returned placidly.
“Just a little something. How are you, Adéla?” Henry’s smile dropped a little when he saw an uptick in prices he hadn’t expected. Nothing that picking an extra job, like some home or car repairs, wouldn’t make up for.
“Ah, same old, Henry. It’s good to see you, though.”
“Likewise, Adéla. Please tell your husband I said hello.” With another sincere smile, Henry paid and went on his way.
He supposed he was just glad some people could find their happily ever after.
Henry hurried back to his car and tossed his new belongings into the back, hoping they wouldn’t get lost in the amalgamation of things that were definitely not junk. He made another mental note to sort through his stuff, if only so he could make a little more space for the future junk that he had yet to meet. He closed the door and checked his phone for the time. Great, it was still before midday, so the place down the street wouldn't have closed down for lunch yet.
His train of thought was suddenly derailed by a loud sound, like the earth shattering and stitching itself back together. It left him feeling disoriented, while a loud ringing pounded in his ears. After a few seconds, he could see a cloud of dust and smoke coming from the street down his path, the same one he had been planning to visit, just moments ago. Then came the screams.
It was utter chaos. People were screaming everywhere, some of them running without direction or any semblance of care, like headless chickens. Some of them bumped into him with such panic that Henry was pushed back, even despite his broad frame. A cloud of dust emerged paces away, surely from the same place the loud blast had started the panic that was spreading like wildfire from Prague’s downtown.
He was so glad Pebbles was far away from the chaos, safe in her mother’s house. That single thought spurred his mind; he had to get away to safety, not dwell in confusion about what had actually caused a damned blast out of nowhere.
As Henry was about to run, a flash of gold and black passed him by. The sight was enough for him to turn and yell.
“Hey! What are you doing?! There’s danger that way!” It didn’t matter, the man either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore his words.
Damned tourists, Henry thought as he started to turn the other way. A loud argument caught his attention, though.
“Do you know who I am, you yokel?! I need a steed right this instant! The fate of this kingdom and of the princess relies solely on me!”
Henry’s legs worked against his common sense, and before realizing what he was doing, he walked towards the shouts. As he closed in on the argument, he got a good look at the man for the first time.
He was tall, with golden hair perfectly in place, as if the wind itself refused to disturb a single strand. His eyes were a kind of blue that, for Henry, was hard to describe, like an unturned ocean. He had a pointed nose framed by high cheekbones, smooth and wrinkle-free skin, and lush, well-defined lips turned downward in clear exasperation.
He was stunning.
Until Henry heard him speak.
“What kind of peasants inhabit these lands, that they’d deny help to a prince?”
Peasants?!
“What the hell, man? That’s no way to speak to someone,” Henry said. The man turned, and Henry, for the first time, actually saw the… peculiar way he was dressed.
He was wearing a rich, deep black velvet doublet. Large, puffed-up sleeves were decorated with intricate gold embroidery in swirling patterns and vertical gold stripes. His chest had an ornate, embroidered crest composed of two black branches upon a yellow shield, which glinted in the light. Long, brown leather gloves with gold embellishments extended to the man’s elbows. His pants were tight-fitting and framed by tall, dark brown leather boots that reached below the knee, with gold decorative stitching near the top. It was complimented with a pair of garters made of thin yellow fabric accented with fine red stripes running along their length. They were fastened snugly just below the knee, secured with small brass buckles. His black cape, lined with gold satin, perfectly matched the rest of the ensemble. What appeared to be a longsword was sheathed at his hip.
He looked ridiculous.
“Oh, good man! You see, I’m in quite a hurry, so I can’t dally with pleasantries. Not when the princess is in grave danger.” The man regarded Henry with a smile that looked completely rehearsed; there was nothing sincere about it.
“Do you know this man? He’s been spewing nonsense since he appeared,.” one of the policemen asked, aggravation clear in his voice.
“Nonsense? Is this how the people in this kingdom speak to royalty? Such impertinence, if anyone heard you, you could very well be put into the pillory.” The man pointed one of his long fingers at the policeman’s personal space with such indignation that Henry might have found it funny, if only he were watching a movie.
In real life, it was aggravating.
“Did you hit your head or something? And why are you dressed like that?”
“My head is perfectly fine, as are my clothes. If anything, I should be asking you the meaning of your… garments.” The strange man regarded Henry with an accusatory look, but he didn’t back down.
There was nothing wrong with his Rage Against the Machine black t-shirt and his ripped jeans. Yes, they had seen better days, and yes, Pebbles insisted he should get on with the times, but Henry knew he looked good. It wasn’t his problem that other people were all dressed the same.
Henry took a deep breath to collect himself. “Look, man, I’m just trying to help you. What’s your name?” At that, the man seemed to spring up.
“I’m Prince Hans Capon of Pirkstein, rightful heir to the kingdom of Kralevia, at your full service.”
Right, so definitely a good smack to the head, Henry concluded.
“What’s your name, good man?” the lunatic questioned him, and for a moment, Henry thought he was about to call him a peasant too, before catching himself in time.
“Name’s Henry Kovář . Are you actually sure you didn’t hit your head? You seem like you need medical attention.”
“Well, brave Henry, I can assure you I’ve never felt better.” The stranger, Hans, grinned at him brightly, and Henry was somewhat annoyed at how perfect his teeth were.
“However, my dear princess is in grave danger! It is my duty, as her prince, to keep her safe in the face of the gravest of dangers.” Hans took out what looked like a very sharp and real sword from the scabbard resting at his hips and pointed the tip of it towards the sun.
When Henry saw a glint of light travel upward toward the very end of the sword, he started to wonder if maybe he was the one who’d been hit in the head. With dismay, he realized the two policemen were nowhere to be seen, and he was the prime target of a potential and sharp accident.
“Whoa! Maybe put that thing down where it can’t hurt someone?” Henry exclaimed as he took a cautious step back.
“Henry, there is no one I want to hurt here. What are you babbling about?” Hans regarded him with a patronizing smile. Henry wanted to scream. At least, Hans sheathed the sword back. Henry would take his victories where he could.
“I really think you need to go to a clinic. There’s one near here, I can show you the way.” It was the least he could do, right? Henry was sure everyone around would have offered the same help in his position.
“A clinic? I do not know the meaning of such a word.” Hans' furrowed brow was very convincing.
Is this guy method acting?
“Are you method acting?” Henry blurted out as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his mouth quicker than his brain.
“Acting?! Do I look like some kind of jester?” Hans puffed up his chest, looked to the side, and smiled with a kind of confidence no man dressed like that should have been able to muster.
Henry regarded him with a deadpan expression. “I have the feeling you won’t like my answer.” He saw it before it happened, the way the guy was about to protest, no doubt offended at Henry’s dry remark. What was it about this Hans that made him so easy for Henry to read?
No matter, his patience was already running thin, and he was getting nowhere.
“There’s a clinic down that road, you can’t miss it,” Henry said, pointing his finger. Hans followed the movement with his eyes. “You should really go there.”
“Are all people in this kingdom so unhelpful? I already told you, I have no time to waste, the princess is in danger.” The exasperation in Hans' voice did nothing to ease Henry’s own. On the contrary, it only irritated him more.
“Whatever,” he snapped. “Do as you please.” Henry turned his back to the other man and started to walk towards the general direction of where he had parked his car. Just when he was in the clear, something that he couldn’t place made him turn back, and he was surprised to find Hans watching him. “J-Just… If you start feeling nauseous, go to the clinic!” Hans was a grown man, he could take care of himself, right? Even when he didn’t seem right in the head.
Henry told himself he had done more than enough with the given situation.
“Fear not for me, brave Henry! I shall be perfectly well. Worry is wasted on the likes of me!” Hans shouted back with such an intensity that it almost made Henry believe him.
Henry went about his day just as he had originally planned. Constantly checking his phone for updates on the disturbance that had occurred just before noon felt, to him, like a reasonable response. It had nothing to do with a nagging feeling of guilt that he just couldn’t shake off. After all, it was understandable, given that he had been in the middle of the riot.
The internet, for once, wasn’t very helpful. All the articles from official sources he found just said the same things: there had been a loud noise downtown followed by a cloud of dust and smoke. No mention of the cause. At least there were no reports of injured people or the like. On social media, he found pictures and short videos of people running while they screamed, or the same images of the dust cloud. Things he had already seen with his own eyes.
There was no mention of crazy guys or method actors dressed like a prince from the same fairy tales he used to read to Pebbles — stories from a time that felt just around the corner, even though Henry knew it had been far longer ago than he liked to admit.
For a little while, he wondered if he had been hit with some kind of sonic concussion or something that made him dream up the whole thing. He knew it was an absurd thought, not only because he felt totally fine, but because he was sure no kind of concussion would make three different people dream up the same exasperating person. A small but still annoyed smile crept up his face just remembering how the police had vanished when they noticed the so-called prince was no longer their problem.
When Henry found himself glancing over his shoulder at every corner, he told himself it was only because he was still on edge from whatever had happened earlier. Nothing more.
The afternoon, fortunately, went without any unwarranted excitement. He went to the local hardware store he trusted and acquired some of the tools he would need for the upcoming repair works that he had already scheduled. He even had lunch in the small deli place he had enjoyed since he was a teen–the owners were always more than happy to shower him with some extra meat on his sandwich. Henry chose to hold off on the kolache this time.
All the while, even against his conscious desires, his eyes wandered in a fruitless search for yellow and black.
Shadows began to gather beneath the streetlights as the sun sank quietly below the horizon. Henry had accomplished all his tasks for the day, so he ran out of reasons to linger. As he walked towards his car, another commotion caught his attention. There was no loud chaos like before; instead, it sounded more like birds chattering in perfect unison., The ruckus was so unusual he felt compelled to walk towards the noise. He arrived at a little glade in the city, one of the few spots nearby that had a lot of trees.
When he caught sight of the man at the center of the uproar, really, he should have been more surprised.
“I see, little friends. You’ve been most helpful, unlike the peasants around. When did decency fall prey to incompetence?" Hans mused with a tone that dripped haughtiness as he paced, one of his hands holding his perfectly sculpted chin.
Before Henry could make his presence known, the birds dispersed in a cloud of wings and feathers, like his existence had interrupted some kind of reunion he wasn’t invited to. Hans seemed surprised by the sudden departure of the birds, but when he saw Henry standing nearby, a bright smile returned to his face.
Maybe it was his imagination, but Henry noted that this one seemed more sincere, as it actually reached Hans’ eyes.
“Brave Henry! What a sight for sore eyes you are!” Was he? He still had the same clothes Hans had kind of insulted before, but he wasn’t about to argue that particular point.
“What are you doing here, Hans?” Henry almost wanted to ask if Hans had been to the clinic, but he was pretty sure he knew the answer already.
“There is so much gray in this kingdom, really, it was difficult for me to find my feathered friends. But do not fret, I managed to find this little meadow all on my own,” Hans said, like it was some kind of great achievement. “They told me Aethon, my trusty steed, was seen running in a panic westwards. I was just debating the best course of action when you appeared before my eyes!” It was a lot for Henry to take in. Hans was a lot to take in.
“Who told you that?”
“The birds.”
“The birds?!”
“Yes, the birds, Henry.”
So yeah, definitely no clinic visit, and concussion-induced madness was still firmly on the table.
“Do you even hear yourself, Hans?” Henry was dumbfounded. He felt his sanity slipping away with every second Hans kept blabbering, each word crazier than the last.
“Of course I hear myself when I speak, Henry! Don’t you? Do I need to call a healer to check on those big ears of yours?” Henry was left speechless for a moment, not believing what he had just heard.
Maybe Hans had a point. Not about his ears, of course, they weren't that big. Henry saw that Hans was grinning like a cat who got the milk, got caught but didn’t care a tad about it.
“Wait, are you fucking with me right now?” Henry pointed an accusatory finger towards Hans, who laughed without a care.
It was a bright and carefree laugh.
“Henry, watch your mouth! You can’t speak that way to royalty!” Despite himself, Henry found himself smiling, too.
Of course, it was short-lived.
“Say, would you know of any castles near these lands? Surely the nobles of this kingdom would not deny a fellow royal a place to rest and a bit of aid. The sun is setting fast, and even my talents are not at their best in the dark." Hans was earnest in his words and that made Henry feel slightly guilty for breaking his delusions.
“There are no castles around here, we’re in the middle of the city.” He thought Hans would have been disappointed at his answer, but the so-called prince didn’t seem to mind.
"I see. Then I shall make camp in these woods, as I once did in my youth during my earliest hunts, and at first light, resume my quest," Hans proclaimed with a glee that Henry just couldn’t comprehend.
“You can’t stay here, are you mad?.” Henry thought it was obvious, but the guy just wouldn’t listen to him.
“Why not? As the prince, I do not need permission to loiter in these woods. Even less so when there are no nobles around, Henry.”
Henry had lost count of how many times he had wanted to scream today. There weren’t even enough trees in this spot for it to pass as a proper wood! It was already getting dark, and the next words from his mouth escaped him without his addled brain's permission.
“You can stay one night in my house, just so you can lay off that nasty concussion of yours,” Henry muttered.
Hans immediately perked up at the offer.
“Brave Henry! I knew there had to be some remnants of kindness in this realm! I shall humbly accept your offer, as I am very curious to see your abode.” And then Hans was off, walking as if he knew exactly where they were headed.
Henry was already regretting his decision.