Chapter Text
"You're back early."
“We found our quarry quickly, M'lord. Didn’t think I’d find you 'round 'ere,” Henry said. “Or like…this.”
“Sackcloth and ashes not exactly my color?” Hans said. Henry found his lord crumpled on the floor of the small Capon family chapel. His voice was tired, but still held a laughing irony Henry always missed when he was away fighting with more straight-foward men. Hans spoke to Henry as if they were both in on some joke. It was one of the millions of things he loved about the lordship. Which is why this scene was so much more startling than just the thin rough shirt and chapped, bleeding knees; he’d never seen Hans so serious. Henry rushed to Hans' side, but Hans' held up his hand, immediately stopping his most loyal subject in his tracks. He seemed ashamed to even be caught in this state.
“I’ll say. Uh so…what’s all this about, eh? You’ve never been one for performin’ penance before.”
“I’ve never sinned this badly before,” Hans said with a heavy sigh. His dark-rimmed clear blue eyes gazed up at the worm-eaten old crucifix, and then hung his head as if the paint-chipped Christ himself looked down on Hans in shame. Dust motes danced in the shafts of late winter light that filled the chapel, firing Hans’ golden head into a saintly halo. He very well could be a saint, Henry thought, with his miraculous hands and blazing heart and fiery kisses that seemed to wash away every ache, worry or doubt.
“You are the best of lords, and the best of men. What could you’ve possibly done to drive you to your knees so?”
“I know about Karolina,” Hans said quickly, keeping his eyes on the floor.
“The Baliff’s girl? What ‘bout 'er?”
“It is a good match, Henry.”
“Aw, it’s nothin’ to worry your noble 'ead over. The joy of being a bastard means no one can command me to marry. But what does me turning down a marriage ‘ave to do with your sins?”
“Do not be such an ass wipe,” he said. He turned with a sudden cold anger in his red-rimmed eyes. Even crumpled on a bare stone floor, he commanded Henry with perfect strength. “Do you really think me so blind?”
“Sir Hans–”
“No,” he said. He stumbled to his feet. It was so strange to see Sir Hans in this way; staggering graceless, and filthy, on his bare feet. He must have spent hours of honest prayer on the cold stone steps, perhaps for days. Henry hadn’t been gone long, just performing average patrols around the castle. It should have been an ordinary task with an ordinary homecoming. Now Sir Hans swayed on his feet and Henry rushed to catch him up in his arms despite the stink of the saddle still on him, but Hans motioned for him to stay. “No, I am talking now. You will marry–you must marry– and as I am your lord and you my retainer, I am commanding it of you.”
“You can’t be serious,” Henry said. His stomach dropped away. “And anyway, you’re not my lord–”
“Sir Radzig has released you from his service and into mine while you were out cleaning up those bandits,” Hans said.
"What? What is this even about?" Henry asked, feeling hopelessly lost.
“Listen, everyone knows about me and my…well, my proclivities. It’s the worst kept secret in Pirkstein that the young lord is not particularly choosy about what lies between his bedmate’s legs. But I am protected by my station and my marriage. You are not…and well, people talk. They didn’t talk before…but they will start to, believe me. And I cannot protect you if you do not operate with a modicum of self-preservation!”
“I dunno what a modicum is, but if it means leaving your side I want nuthin’ to do with it!”
“Christ’s wounds! I might as well be talking to that…useless bit of wood than you!” Hans shouted, biting his thumb at the crucifix. Well, some things never really changed.
“Sir Hans…what is your sin?”
“I have ruined you!”
“What d’ya mean?”
“Ruined you with my greed…my gluttony, my lust…” he said. “Everything I touch turns to shit and what did I do? I touched you, my Henry…”
“Oh come on, your cock ain't that good--"
“--I beg your pardon?--”
“--And I won’t hear such talk ‘bout yerself,” Henry said quietly. “You never did nothin’ to me but give me words for what I couldn’t name. Love is no sin”
“Henry, they can hang you for this.”
“I know that. I’m not a simpleton,” Henry said. “And I’m not afraid.”
“Then you may be a simpleton. The rope…the gallows…” Hans' voice broke. Henry knew that pain. Seeing Hans nearly swing back in Troksy...it was too terrible a thing to revisit except in nightmares. Henry took a step towards Hans, but no closer. He'd been commanded to stay back after all. “Your father came to me, looking for understanding. Since the battle in Prague last year he’s given you lands, responsibilities…he wants to see you settled down before he leaves this world. He came to me to advise him on how to reach you. He’s at a complete loss, not knowing that I am exactly what stands in your way.”
Henry didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t stand the accusation in Hans’ eyes. He cast around the room instead, seeing for the first time the straw mattress with no blanket next to a table with a jug of water and simple bread. Cold realization seized Henry’s throat.
“How long have you been up here?”
“Since the night you left.”
“Have you been fastin’ the whole three days?”
“You will listen to your lord and you will marry,” Hans said, waving away the evidence of his deprivation.
“I'm not a noble, you can't order to me-”
“If I petition for your knighthood I can.”
“...you aren’t yerself, talkin' 'bout cursin' me with nobility. No piece of paper is gonna make me any more or less loyal. Come on, stop this nonsense and let’s get you a bath and a good meal and–”
“Do not dare show me disobedience,” Hans said in a frosty tone, straightening up his spine to full height. Hans could make even sackcloth seem royal with just his bearing and Henry never stopped being slightly in awe of him, no matter how hard he tried.
“Hans–”
“Lord Capon,” he said. Usually when Hans corrected Henry with his honorifics it was cheeky, or part of a game in bed. This was heartbreakingly serious. Henry knew he had to tread lightly. There were indeed social mores to be upheld, even when arguing with your secret lover. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a bit of a bastard about it.
“Fine. M’Lord Capon,” Henry said, performing as sarcastic a bow as he could in half chainmail. “I’ve patrolled your lands, slept on hard ground under the open sky and ridden dozens of miles while faithfully serving your family. Now, all I want is to come home to a nice fuck and a pheasant dinner. I think I’m owed that much. Let’s stop this silly game–”
“Let me save your life, you fool!” Hans couldn’t contain himself and threw himself at Henry, but he was so weak that no blows landed. Henry caught up his arms and held him close to his chest. Hans shivered with repressed rage and fear.
“Let me worry about savin’ lives,” Henry said into the smooth, curved shell of Hans' ear. “It’s what I’m best at, including saving my own.”
“Please, Henry.” He didn’t fight now, just hung his arms around Henry’s shoulders, burying his face in the side of his neck. “I could not bear it if…”
“If it will comfort you and ease your soul, I will do what you ask, but don’t you dare deny me your company.”
“You are an absolute twit,” Hans said.
“I know. D'you need me to carry you outta ‘ere or…”
“Damn you.”
“I missed you too.”