AO3 | writing tag | dragon age is my bitter ex but solavellan will always be my wife. currently into a Kingdom Come Deliverance hyperfixation. theoretically I'm pivoting to a multifandom blog but I'm too lazy to change the decorations so I guess Solas lives in my house forever.
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Summary: At 48, Hans has everything he thought could have ever wanted: the rightful Lord of Rattay, a healthy son to carry the lineage, and a comfortable marriage with his wife. But after a mysterious man who once fought alongside Jan Zizka shows up in Rattay wounded, Hans begins to realize the many things missing in his life as he has gotten older.
Relationships: Hans/Henry, Hans & Jitka, Hans & Hynce
Tags: Old man yaoi, older men, Hussite War, Misunderstandings, Historical inaccuracy, Tournaments, Bottom Henry, Light Angst
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I've seen a bunch of posts, some actually from months ago, some more recently about Hans getting diluted and toned down between KCD1 and KCD2. And while he changed, I don't think these changes are that big or ones that don't make sense in the story we are given. Certain changes in how Henry talks were actually more notable to me.
(For the record, I played KCD1 first, then KCD2 immediately after finishing KCD1. Literally 2 hours passed for me between the epilogue of KCD1 and the prologue of KCD2)
And I kinda get the point. Hans when we meet him in KCD1 is inexperienced, undersocialized, and tends to run his mouth and his behaviour in KCD2 past the prologue is different. But in a way that makes sense. He is a more complex, intelligent, and competent person than some make him out to be in KCD1. He isn't just a silly guy who says weird outrageous shit who has no filter in KCD1 who got toned down for KCD2.
When we meet Hans in KCD1, he doesn't seem to know how to handle having a friend. He invites Henry to the baths and has him strip and everything because he honest to god doesn't know what friends do to hang out so he invited Henry in on something he likes doing and hoped he liked it to. A lot of our other interaction with Hans is Hans trying to find excuses to hang out with his friend Henry. It's downtime for fun we don't get much of in KCD2 in general. (And when we do get glimpses of moments, like when riding with Hans to Nebakov he still says shit like "so toughen up that arse of yours" in response to Henry complaining his arse is sore. Like Old Times is post-Maleshov which is a different phase to me when it comes to Han's characterization)
And when we see Hans say weird shit in KCD1, it's with Henry or bathmaids (people he is comfortable with) or when drunk or when he has a concussion. Hans is actually very socially aware of his station and behavior even in KCD1.
Even when we see him kinda drunk with the drinking buddies that aren't really his friends at the start of KCD1, he tells his funny story that is completely made up bullshit, but he isn't saying anything nearly as strange or outrageous as he does when he talks to Henry. He is acting pretty normal for a man drinking with other men.
When he makes his "with my bare hands I'd... crush your balls" comment he has a concussion and laughs awkwardly immediately after he is done talking because he realized he said a weird thing. He knows its weird. And Henry makes just as weird comments to him before "looked like they were about to take your maidenhood" and "a nobleman with crushed balls" and takes Hans’s comments in stride. Of course Hans would feel more comfortable from that moment onwards to say weird shit in Henry's presence and be speak more freely.
Even in KCD1, he doesn't speak to Hanush or Radzig the same way he talks to Henry. We see him speak with Bernard, and he is quite chill and normal. He is completely normal and appropriate when talking to Jobst (I know he says Henry would come with him, but it's not a weird thing to say about one's page/friend/trusted companion and no one really minds in the scene. It's insane due to the implications, not the words that are leaving his mouth. He is behaving politely and appropriately for the situation as he keeps doing in KCD2).
In Rober Baron he gives a reasonable not-bad pre-battle speech to his men:
In the same quest, Hans shows he can be more emotionally vulnerable and serious with Henry, similar to how we see him in KCD2:
And he shows at the end of kcd1 that even though he is inexperienced and naive:
he is politically savvy and aware of the grander picture of the state of the land and has a strategic mind for these things:
And while he talks big game here and he probably wouldn't have hanged them, he is still calling out Wenceslas rewarding the lords for abducting him as a bad strategic decision. In KCD2, he does similar things when talking big game of helping Henry gut Istvan or torturing the prisoner at Trosky but when it comes down to it, he'd rather not.
All of this is consistent with his characterization between the two games and all makes sense. Hans has been taught all his life how to be a noble, and he clearly knows how to be a noble and behave as one when he needs to.
Its friendship and speaking to someone he likes as an equal which is strange for him and puts him on uneven ground. Ground that feels more even by the start of KCD2 and then becomes uneven again post-Maleshov. And I'd say the batshit things he says is more him in a way the noble facade can never be, but he knows how to put it on. He has a filter when he wants to have it.
I'd go as far as to say Hans likes saying stupid shit and run his mouth and be annoying on purpose and often just doesn't really get the chance for it. I'd also say, Henry says just as much weird shit if not more. They are both shitheads who like to talk shit and annoy people. But, like most people, they are both aware enough of social cues to put on the necessary masks when they need them in both games.
And in the prologue of KCD2, Hans acts the same as he does in kcd1. He makes his usual comments to Henry ("Do you think we'll fight with our cocks"). He hits at the worst point he can in the fight in the pillory by bringing up the whole Dadzig situation which is a low blow because Hans is sharp. Same as he latched onto Henry being a cowered who ran away from Skalitz when he wanted to be mean to him in KCD1. But later, everything goes to shit and Hans is constantly surrounded by people he needs to play nice with or assert his nobility to prove his worth to — so of course he is behaving differently than when in his home terf, and before his humiliation at Trosky (which explains why he doesn't really stick around in For Victory considering everything we can hear the other nobles say about him. In Raborsh too actually) I'd be more surprised if he did act the same. He is adjusting to new situations as much as Henry is, perhaps more so as Henry has been adjusting to completely new situations for a month+ already by the start of KCD2.
And KCD2 Hans still talks about fucking wenches, getting drunk, going out hunting as an excuse to avoid people and politics (all things he does and says in KCD1).
And Hans keeps changing throughout KCD2. He is so noticeably softer post-Maleshov, since that's the point I believe he had some time to think over his feelings towards Henry. Not to mention he spent a week-ish in a small room with Brabant as the only company, with Von Bergow literally starving him, thinking Henry got tortured and then killed. Again, I'd be more surprised if he didn't become more mushy and affectionate to Henry after that. And it is just with Henry. (Not that it stops him for saying weird shit after you sleep with Rosa "You rutting stag! It's a wonder you didn't bring the whole house down!" and "Did she scream, cry… laugh? Bite, scratch? Or did she take a whip to you?")
The point of this honestly long winded post is that, I just don't really understand the KCD1 Hans vs KCD2 Hans discussion. This feels to me, like the same character (some variation in character are acceptable to me due to development cycles) who is wearing different hats and different aspects of himself to fit his situation for the most part. Henry, for example, speaks with much more confidence in KCD2 than KCD1. KCD1 Henry sounds so soft and quite compared to his KCD2 counterpart. Which, again, is a valid transition of the character as he is more skilled and confident and acting confident serves his objectives better. Same for Hans playing along with noble behaviors and games in the situations he finds himself in.
Not saying there aren't some moments in KCD2 for both of them that feel a little OOC to me, but, this is more in general. (For the record, Henry has more scenes that I consider OOC than Hans in KCD2 but he also appears more)
Written for the Kingdom Come Deliverance II Fan Zine, which in addition to this fic boasts a host of art, an essay, and a TTRPG. All proceeds will go to the Pirkštejn/Pirkstein Bell Tower in Rataje/Rattay! This fic was part of a collab with the artist @ionemone.
Set in KCD1 during Hans's recovery period post-The Prey. 1.8k words. Pre-Relationship Hans x Henry.
There is a finite amount of things one can notice about a room.
Hans has lain in bed for two and a half days now. At first he was the subject of a physician's attention, then Hanush's, then some noble ladies came to wish him well, but once the danger had passed, so did his company. It appears that if he is not actively dying he is easy to forget.
Though he may well die of boredom soon.
Hans has acquainted himself with every inch of his temporary quarters: every slip of the painter's mortal hand; every perfection and flaw; the places missed while dusting. It has all been catalogued and recorded in the confines of his idle mind, stared at to the point of tears. The open window: a cruel jape at his expense, that warmth and sunlight are within his sight, but beyond his reach. A veritable Tantalus of the modern age.
Spring has arrived. The trees have shaken off the tyranny of winter and crowned themselves with green garlands, and upon the treacherous cliffs of Pirkstein flowers bloom. For a while, he looked out at his subjects travelling the roads at the feet of Rattay, until his eyes could no longer bear the sunlight, and he was forced back into bed. Nose to the wall, too tired to close his eyes.
The hours drag from Laud to Vespers, and life moves without him. Remembered only at mealtimes, so hunger does not finish the job the Cumans began.
A knock at the door signals the arrival of such a meal, although he hadn't realised how long in the tooth the day had become until then. He casts his eyes up, trying to measure the light before he decides it doesn't matter.
"Come in!" he calls.
The door squeals when it opens, and the feet that follow through are driven by an ill-defined purpose.
"Erm…" comes a hesitant sound, too deep to be a maid.
Hans feels his heart beat for the first time since he'd been lain in this bed. He twists, mussing the sheets, ignoring the twinge in his chest to see if his ears have failed him.
"Henry?"
He asks, because it isn't immediately obvious. The boy that had dragged him here from the Sasau Woods has weaned off the milk he was raised on and stands in Hans's chambers, half-a-knight. There's a proper sword at his hip and a padded shirt meant to bear a breastplate, though still he wears that scarf, all worn about the edges, underneath it all.
"Yes…" Henry answers, as if he's uncertain himself. He's standing strangely, arms held behind his back, hiding something that Hans strains to see, leaning until his healing body twinges in protest. "I, em, I came to see how you were getting on, sir. See if after our little adventure you were finally on the mend. I see you're still in bed, though."
"Physician's orders, I'm afraid. Though boredom may finish the job the Cumans started." Hans casts his wrist over his forehead, looking Henry up and down. He's smiling sympathetically, not put off by Hans's complaints.
"I know the feelin'. Once I was laid-up in bed weeks after a bad illness, but I've brought you something." He reveals what's been hidden behind his back since he came in, proffering forward a fistful of flowers. They're still wet with morning dew, and no doubt crawling with bugs, but they're bright— brighter than the murals that decorate the room around them. Only Henry's eyes can compare. "My ma always said it was good for healin', bringing in some of nature. Gives you a taste of what you're missin' out on… of course, the daisies that grew outside the forge weren't so pretty as these ones. Maybe that'll make you mend quicker."
Hans snorts. "That's peasant nonsense if I've ever heard it. Healing is all about science: the four humours, the excess of one thing, a lack of another."
A little pang of regret drops in Hans as Henry shrinks slightly, no doubt curbing his tongue for a change. "Well, I'm still alive."
"So you are," Hans says, "and because of that so am I. I suppose they won't do any harm. You'll find a vase on the table over there, just be careful not to knock anything over, blacksmith's boy!"
"Aye, Sir."
As Henry shuffles over to the corner of the room he'd instructed him to, Hans can only rely on his ears to determine where he is, unable to crane his neck quite so far to watch him. From the corner, Hans hears: "I dunno how you've been bored, Sir. You've got plenty of books to keep you company."
"Which would solve all my problems, if my head wasn't splitting open."
"Don't you have someone who can read to you?"
Hans rolls his eyes. "Who? Everyone is either too busy to play nursemaid or couldn't read their own name."
"I could read for you," Henry offers immediately. Then, perhaps realising he had offered too quickly, adds, "Only if you like, of course."
"You can read?" Injury or no, Hans forces himself to turn to look. Henry's back is turned, but he can make out the colour of his ears turning red, a nice contrast to the blue forget-me-nots he clutches in hand.
"I only just started learnin'," Henry mutters, then adds with a louder voice, "but beggars can't be choosers. I may not read like the minstrels who've passed through Pirkstein, but they're not here right now. I am."
There's a defiance to those words that makes Hans's heart skip. The same obstinance he'd berated the first time they met now nurtures a blossom of admiration. "Go on, then," he says gently. "Read for me."
Henry whips around, blinking widely. Once the words settle, his brow knits, turning back to the books as he asks, "Any of them?"
"I had only my favourites fetched from my room while Sir Radzig… occupies it." Hosting Sir Radzig is, of course, the knightly thing to do, yet Hans regrets agreeing to give up his room to him. He's sure in his proper bed he would be healed already, but it's not as though he can ask for it back. "In short, you can't go wrong."
"Right, em…" Henry's fingers pass over the books, their leatherbound spines seem to shiver under his touch, speaking to him. He decides upon the brightest of the lot: bound with new, red leather with gold ornament, and perhaps the one Hans is proudest of. Stuffing the flowers in the vase, he pulls the book out and lets it fall open to the first page. From this angle, Hans can see his eyes moving, a flash of white as they skim the page. Then: "What the hell is this?"
Books are an escape, and it appears Henry had forgotten where he stands. In a lord's chamber, with the lord himself present. He turns on his heel, and points to the page like it's committed an indiscretion. "Is this Latin?" he asks.
Hans pauses, and laughs, wincing as his ribs punish him for it. "That would be French. They are similar, though, I'll grant you that. There should be a slip of paper a few pages in, I was trying to translate it into Czech."
Henry wets his fingers and pulls apart the next few pages, holding the book beneath his breast so the loose leaf between them doesn't fall out. His eyes scan the page, side-to-side, mouthing the words before he looks up and says, "The Knight's Tale?"
Hans rests his cheek on his knuckles, now past the point of pain. Curiosity surges through him like adrenaline and he says with undisguised astonishment, "You can read after all."
"What, did you think I was lying?"
"No. That doesn't mean it's not a surprise. Not a bad one, I'll say." Hans pulls himself out of bed, sights set upon the seat near the window. It's a short distance, even an old man on his death bed could drag himself over, yet Hans is scarcely on his feet before he's winded. He reaches for the back of a nearby chair, and finds himself clasping something warm— someone warm. Henry, with gentle eyes and gentle hands, guiding him into his seat.
Hard to believe mere days ago he had used those hands to cut the colour from the Cumans who'd held him. But then, knights were supposed to be men of romance as well as violence.
They sit together by the window, Henry with his book and Hans with his flowers, which will drink no water until he has his fill of them, and they begin:
"Once, as old histories tell us, there was a duke who was called the… The-sea-us."
"Theseus," Hans says. "A famous Greek hero. I'll tell you about him some other time."
Henry nods, a little smile tucking into his cheek as he continues: "He was lord and governor of Athens, and in time, 'scuse me, in his time such a conqueror that there was no one greater under the sun."
Hans tries not to watch him speak, but finds himself fascinated by the shape of the words upon his lips. Penned by a poet for a noble court, they're coarse upon a peasant's tongue, but not unpleasant. And he has a way of speaking that draws the listener in to the reality of the page. This place he has always known has home— now suddenly a tower the likes of which their heroes find themselves locked within. His privilege, his indulgence, a cage.
As Henry reads, Hans discovers new meaning in words he must have read no less than a dozen times. Before, a knightly romance of star-crossed loves and star-crossed friendship, now appears to him a farce. The divine will at the heart of the story, now utterly human in its making. What use did Emelye's love have compared to the one shared between Arcite and Palamon? She, a woman, lacks the strength to hold them should they ail and the skill to wield a sword— good for one thing only, which despite the many times Hans has visited the baths, feels suddenly inconsequential.
And though the character of a room has a finite number of qualities, the things which he notices about Henry feel infinite. How his hose stretch around his thighs in a manner they hadn't when he'd first shuffled into Pirkstein; the way he breathes through his mouth, and licks his teeth when a word fails him. A thousand, thousand minutiae, which may well bear Hans to health. Though his eyes, growing heavy, begin to slip shut as Henry's reading turns to tragedy.
Hans breathes in the spring that clings to Henry's shoulders and the sweet smell of the flowers he clasps to his breast. Through the open window he imagines, not Rattay, but Athens lies at their tower's feet.
And somewhere below Emelye strolls the gardens, but Arcite and Palamon care not.
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