Chapter Text
He feels the beat of the hooves before he hears them, the ground rumbling in the telltale soft shaking beneath him.
It's a beautiful day, the late summer sun gentle in its warmth before reaching the midday scorch. The nature is vibrant in its greenery, yet the wind already carries the cold smell of the upcoming winter with it. It'll be a harsh one, he thinks, if the previous one is anything to go by.
"Here you are!" he hears the voice behind him, cheerful and like without a care in the world. "Thought I saw you riding out before sunrise. You should've told me, I could've come along."
"You're here now, aren't you," he replies, sliding into the familiar bickering easily. "Besides," he continues as the other plops down on the ground next to him, "Your presence was required this morning, not mine."
"Still," his companion says, and pokes his thigh with a finger, like driving the point through. "I'm not saying you aren't allowed to leave, which you by the way kind of aren't, considering your importance as my only trustworthy bodyguard." Despite his words he shrugs. "...And as my only bodyguard," he adds.
"I wouldn't have left if I wasn't certain in your skills to survive one meeting with the local merchants."
"Still," Hans Capon repeats, and gives him a meaningful look. The blue of the sky reflects on his equally brilliant eyes. "It just would've been nice to have you there too, is all."
Something about Sir Hans' tone, perhaps the clear disappointment in it, left Henry averting his gaze. "I'm sorry," he mumbles more than says, "Had I known it was important I would've stayed. My apologies."
"Oh well," Sir Hans says eventually. "It's all done now, no need to dwell on it." From the corner of his eye Henry sees him snatch a few flowers from the ground, their stalk coming along with thin roots covered in soil. "What are you doing here anyway? The view is nice, I grant you that, but doesn't the vicinity of the gallows darken the mood for cloudgazing?"
This time it's Henry who shrugs. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind, not after the executioner had become the first friendly face in Rattay after he woke up, freshly bathed yet still bruised, in Theresa's bed at the Mill. He explains as much. Sir Hans laughs. "Only you, Henry," he barely manages, "Only you."
They fall silent after that, both content to just admire the view of the Rattay walls outlined against the sky, the bend of the river behind it ever so slightly visible from here. Sir Hans is twirling the flowers in his hands, the roots now shaken off of any clumps of soil, twisting one stalk over the other over and over again in a mock beginning of a flower crown.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" he exclamates suddenly and bolts up. He rummages through the saddlebags until he finds what he's looking for. Henry watches through the actions feigning ignorance as the curiosity burns through him, settling in one raised eyebrow upon seeing the bag Lord Capon sits back down with.
"What on earth is that?" Henry asks, mouth working quicker than his mouth, but Sir Hans doesn't scold him at all, his fingers too occupied unravelling the bag's leather knot.
"These my dear friend, are candied orange. One of the merchants gave them as a token of gratitude for keeping the trade routes open with the Venetians. Bohemian silver is taking over the world, Henry! The mines in Iglau have doubled their production, and with Kuttenberg doing the same soon Rattay too will follow along. We'll flourish like never before!" He sets the open bag between them, encourages Henry to reach into its foreign contents. "Here, try one with me! Apparently these are all the rage in Vienna right now. I'd hate to be left out."
Henry does what he's asked to, and reaches into the bag that's big enough to fit his entire fist into it. He pulls out a single, surprisingly hard disc-shaped thing the size of his palm. Its colour resembling a dark yellow cloth ruined with wine.
Sir Hans looks expectantly at him, so Henry, unsure what to do with the thing, breaks it in half and hands Sir Hans the other part. With their more competitive sides surfacing, they pop the slices into their mouths simultaneously, but unlike Henry who just keeps on munching and savouring the odd texture, Sir Hans spits his out before even biting properly in. He coughs violently, hacking his chest, until every last remaining piece of the horrible treat is gone from his mouth.
"Ugh, my God that was horrible!" he cries out. "Like hardened horse manure! I cannot wait to flush this down with some proper ale."
"It wasn't that bad," Henry counters. "New and weird, yes, but the soft and bitterness work oddly well with the hard sweetness. May I have another one?"
"Take the whole bag!" Sir Hans commands more than offers, pushing the open bag into Henry's lap unceremoniously. He eyes it with disgust as Henry takes a bite of another one. "You'd have to pay me to put even a bit of those monstrosities into my mouth. I'm starting to think the merchant tried to poison me."
Henry chuckles. "Knowing your recklessness, my Lord, I don't think he needs to waste his time on going through the trouble. All he needs to do is to ask you to hunt some boars."
"Oh sod off," Sir Hans scoffs, but there's no true heat behind it and his eyes twinkle with unshead laughter. He returns back to twirling the abused flowers. "You still haven't answered me, Henry," he says eventually. It's not an accusation, more of a statement really, yet the requirement of an explanation is there nonetheless. "What's going on?"
Henry thinks what to say. "Nothing's going on," he begins. "I just... Needed a break from everything. Everyone."
"From the people, you mean?"
"Well... Yes, my Lord." Upon seeing the disappointment on Sir Hans' face, he rushes to continue, "Don't get me wrong! Everybody has been more than kind to me, and the people of Skalitz will forever be in your debt. I will be forever your debt, yours and Sir Radzig's." He raises his face to the sky, searches the shades of blues and whites as if the right words would somehow drop from among them. "It's just... Although we have travelled all across the lands now, there are times when Rattay becomes... too much. Too crowded. Skalitz was small, yes, but it was peaceful, and there was room to breathe. I just miss having that space sometimes."
He thinks about the long fields draping across the landscape, the wide streets shaped more by footprints than ploughs. He thinks about the orchard behind the tavern, the narrow trail circling the entire village. He thinks about Bianca, and Pa, and Ma, all gone and forever lost to him, and then he doesn't want to think at all.
"How many times do I need to tell you to drop the titles when it's just us?" Sir Hans breaks the silence, his voice guiding Henry back to present completely unaware of the dark turn of thoughts in his companion's mind. "I can understand the need for space, Henry, and I'm not going to deny that from you. However, it'd be greatly appreciated if you at least left a note before disappearing completely. I'd hate to ask Sir Robard of Talmberg to come save your ass again, you know, God knows what kind of trouble you'd get yourself into."
With it, Hans bursts into laughter. Unable to do anything else than follow his lord's suit, Henry laughs too. The shared laugh feels like breathing fresh air into his lungs, invigorating and refreshing.
"Don't even remind me!" he cries out, feeling already much lighter than only a few hours earlier. Then a thought passes his mind and before he manages to catch himself, he asks, jests, "Should I be offended you wouldn't come for me yourself?" and chuckles.
Hans gets oddly silent at that. Cheeks slightly reddened and eyes dancing on the treeline, he replies, bashfully, "I would. I hope you know I would."
The sincerity of it raises a smile tugging the corners of Henry's mouth and a blush on his cheeks. "I do," he manages to utter.
"Great!"
"Aye."