#kcd x reader

ASOIAF

A Knight Of The Seven Kingdoms

Thoughts about Lyonel Baratheon:

modern au!, siblings

Lyonel Baratheon's wife saga:

Mediations – Lyonel Baratheon x wife!reader

summary: There is no such thing in the world that would cool down Lyonel's spirit, but when intercession is needed and his lady wife has to put up a good word for him – well, then even the Laughing Storm can sense the seriousness. Who would have guessed that the spooked deer he married would turn not only into his true friend but also the closest advisor?

Name the riches – Lyonel Baratheon x wife!reader

summary: Lyonel plays a game of provocation to stir some audacity in his newlywed wife, but she is quick to catch up after realizing the position she holds. Lord Baratheon’s assurances that he is not a jealous man turn out to be dramatically untrue.

Mark of the Stags – Lyonel Baratheon x wife!reader

summary: Lady Baratheon wakes up next to her husband after a long, frantic night. The only unusual thing is the ache on her skin that happens not to be a bruise, neither Lyonel's worshiping touch. The marks on their bodies don’t seem to worry the Lord very much, though. He is, in fact, quite thrilled.

Faint memory, promising pathways – Lyonel Baratheon x wife!reader

summary: Lord Baratheon is too occupied with the presence of his darling wife to follow his companions. He claims to remember the way… Well, nature isn't so bad, after all, then why not spend the whole day away from the castle?

Harlots’ rank [request] – Lyonel Baratheon x wife!reader

summary: Lord Baratheon has to face a fact hard to swallow – that his darling wife thinks of him as a disloyal dog...

Lady of Heartache [request] – Lyonel Baratheon x wife!reader

summary: The only people afraid of Lord Baratheon were men, but how could you know that? You heard warnings about him and the duties of a wife too often to not let them get to you.

The Backbone and Gravity [request] – Lyonel Baratheon x wife!reader

summary: Some proud stormlanders could argue that impassive and deliberate were not words to describe a storm. They existed to be rapid and to destroy, did they not? Lord Baratheon, though, knows that the loudest, most ruthless thunder comes only with his wife’s merciless stare..

The Stranger’s heiress [request] – Lyonel Baratheon x deity!reader

summary: During his travel to seal a new partnership, Lord Baratheon is met with a strange messenger sent to House Horpe. The veil and cowl fail to hide the lady’s true identity, and soon enough, Lyonel finds himself mesmerized by what others see as fearsome and cursed. Customs happen to mean very little for him, though, when there is a divine woman to save.

Fair Trading [request] – Lyonel Baratheon x Dornish!reader

summary: The fierceness of a storm and dornish habits don’t seem to match each other very well, but perhaps Lyonel Baratheon is not that much of a true abrupt stormlander. Or maybe it’s just that you, a princess of Dorne, can find it in your heart to accept such a stormlander as your man.

Blood makes noise [request] – Lyonel Baratheon x Bracken!reader

summary: Lyonel always said it is all about honor, protecting the good name of his house and kins. If he was truly honest, though – well, he would have to say he walked this earth for fun and the thrill of some risk. Oh, and impressing his lady wife all over again!

Knight's mercy [request] – Lyonel Baratheon x witch!reader

summary: Everyone would benefit from Lyonel keeping his new friendships to himself, but there was also no one who could stop him. Now after the worst experience of his life, ser Duncan has to bear the intrusive presence of Lord Baratheon and the – so called – witch, that he somehow convinced to stick around…

Culprits [request] – Lyonel Baratheon x witch!reader

summary: Just like any other dark time the plague brings the need to search for culprits. It also seems that the Baratheons’ subjects forgot what a true fury of their lord is.

Harbingers of sorrow – Baelor Targaryen x wife!reader

summary: Terrifying visions that surround your husband with blood and pain keep appearing in your sleep, and despite his assurance, you decide to ask for advice that turns out to be meaningless.

[Part 2 – Blood’s Devotion]

[Part 3 – Brother's Love] i'm struggling here okay

Humiliation – Baelor Targaryen x wife!reader

summary: Baelor Targaryen's wife losing her temper awakes some unexpected possessiveness in the prince...

Summertime – dilf!Baelor Targaryen x fem!reader [modern AU]

Doubt your man – Maekar Targaryen x wife!reader

summary: If he only could, Maekar would gladly sit by his wife’s side through her whole sickness. When he finally manages to run from his duties and rush to her, he has to throw a certain man outside the chamber and care for the woman himself. Just like he prefers it.

Mourning Feast – Maekar Targaryen x fem!reader

summary: Maekar Targaryen’s bride seems to be the most tragic lady in The Seven Kingdoms. Not only is she to be wed to a man of grim and sharp reputation, but also her father gets slaughtered on her wedding day.

Hidden Presence – Maekar Targaryen x servant!reader

summary: Deep at heart Maekar is furious that it took him so long to finally meet the woman that everyone seems so suspiciously fond of. Nothing is worse than the fact that his brother beat him to it, though.

[part 2]

summary: Despite Maekar's distrustful temper, he's even worse at resisting the woman he met in the kitchens than others. In fact, he would like nothing more than to have her for himself and himself only… He fails to notice how hard that can be considering her underground trade, hidden by a shroud of mystery.

[younger! Maekar x servant!reader]

summary: Once Prince Maekar set his eyes on the most promising of all cooks, no one could pull him away from her. He is too young, too smitten, and much too prideful to hide the affair and its fruits.

My Moon, My Man – Daeron Targaryen x wife!reader

summary: An imperfect bride for a flawsome man – it was not a tragic match by any means, but the heavy shroud of expectations made affection morph into doubt. It felt like a choke, the duty imposed by House Rosby, tightening on the necks of Daeron and his wife.

Dim Refuge – Daeron Targaryen x wife!reader

summary: Life as Prince Daeron’s wife sometimes made you feel like the sky would fall on your head while you and your husband were just a pair of lambs sent to slaughter...

Lamblike – Daeron Targaryen x commoner!reader

Summary: The dragon was about to lose a tooth or two, and you weren’t having it…

House of The Dragon

Gwayne Hightower's restrained wife

Vestiges and Laments – Gwayne Hightower x reader

summary: After the battle at Rook’s Rest all Gwayne wants is you. Hopefully longing just like he is and cherishing his safe return. And yet he is met with an absence that makes his breath hitch and grim remarks he does not appreciate. Despite being a lord and a noble knight he is also nothing but a man, and how long can a man go without the comforting presence of his wife? And especially a wife who is worth worshipping, every battle and every whispered word of blasphemy?

In Body and Mind – Gwayne Hightower x bethroted!reader

summary: You weren’t even wed to Ser Gwayne yet, and it already seems like you are closer to being a widow than a wife. Still, despite the whispers of worry and alarming omens, he manages to make a promise you decide to cling to.

Runaway party – Aegon & reader & Larys rant

Game of Thrones

True Knight – Davos Seaworth x fem! Estermont reader

Complete [wc: 10k+]

Summary: Lady Estermont, there was something truly strange about her. Whenever she appeared, the weird feeling came too. In the silence and ever-humming sound of the sea, in shadows, like something watched. Watched and waited. It was not an eerie presence, just something deeply buried that screamed to be unleashed again.

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

ao3 link

Resident Evil

Anemone – Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader [southern gothic au]

summary: The idea of being married to Leon is… suitable and appropriate. He’s an older, strange cop whose presence gives some people the creeps, but apparently he is just an individual. All you seek is an opportunity for a better life… even if it might mean shattering his peace. But he shouldn’t worry, should he? You’re a good woman, after all, and the arrangement is only proper.

I still dream of violence – older!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

[part 2] Angry at the waiting game

summary: When a young married couple disappears, who could be better at investigating the case than a pair of special agents used to working together and known for their high efficiency? Well, probably nobody, but someone clearly ignored the fact that one of them should retire a long time ago, and they are both too good at their job to rot in rural America. Not to forget the questionable nature of their professional relationship and mutual tension.

My Pretty Woman In a Ball Gown – Leon Kennedy x co-worker!reader [soon]

summary: Leon was not a man who asked for commitment – he simply gave it. And before a stressful gala, he is, oh, so committed to you…

old man leon x girlfirend!reader

Nothing in the world belongs to me – Leon Kennedy x neighbour!reader

summary: Affection and attachment. Strange things that Leon saw as great values, yet ones he couldn’t afford because of his job. He didn’t know if it was a sense of responsibility or fear of disappointment that made him so reluctant… Well, good thing that the famous ‘cat distribution system’ doesn’t care. Nor his luck for incredibly charming neighbours.

Miss– Mrs. Kennedy? Well, your wife… – Leon Kennedy x DSO agent!reader

Summary: You were pretty sure you preferred being strangled to death on a mission over having a phone call with a stranger… Embarrassing as it felt. Luckily, your closest co-worker is there to save you.

Forever's Gonna Start Tonight – rookie!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

summary: Leon takes care of you after a graduation ball at the police academy – just like he always does. Or perhaps this time it’s you caring for him?

The Pitt

Short thoughts about:

Brendon Park & ortho music drama

John Shen enjoying his wife's sleep routine

Fics:

Bad Visions – Jesse Van Horn x fem!reader

summary: An outburst from a patient in pain makes you rather indisposed for the rest of the day, but luckily you're not left alone. Jesse is easily known as one of the most reliable people in the ER – of course he will help his favorite coworker with making it to the end of the shift!

part two

I want it with you – FWB!Jack Abbot x fem!reader

summary: Jack Abbot is far from being badly self-conscious. Still, he’s plagued by obstinate thoughts and questions that he believed he could get rid of – all caused by the woman that he was supposed to be seeing only for one thing.

Direct Fire – Jack Abbot x SWAT!reader

summary: It is hard to consider saving somebody’s life a failure. You get gravely judged for making a mistake, though, and getting hurt in the process. Your squad mates look at you like it was nothing but a show-off. Luckily, there’s also Doctor Abbot who not only understands you to the bone, but also uses the occasion to do what he wanted for a while.

Sprezzatura – knight!Jack Abbot x princess!reader

summary: A single tear that stained the Princess’s cheek saved Jack’s life and made him bid his existence to the task of protecting her. As a Captain of the guard he finds new reasons for his devotion. They come with temptations, though, and ones Abbot can barely resist. And the Princess – she mastered the skill of effortless grace to mask the tension between her and her loyal guard. Unfortunately, an inconvenient betrothal was arranged by her father…

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six

True detective

young!rust cohle headcanons

Sacred bloody route – Rust Cohle x fem!reader [wc: 30k+]

summary: Rust was a heavy smoker since his late teenage years, and he picked up his liking for Camel Blues from the first woman he ever cared about. He knew she was the one part of his ‘programming’ that he would not be able to deny himself: memory of the feeling, longing for the grim days when a shred of light made it worth living. Lust can morph into love. Love – into resentment, but care… Care will remain the same.

chapters:

I. The once forgotten route, now used by many

II. Don't you love her madly? Crash!Rust Cohle x fem!reader

III. Seven horses seem to be on the mark young!Rust Cohle x fem!reader

IV. A lonely song of a deep blue dream young!Rust Cohle x fem!reader

V. Don’t you love her as she’s walking out the door? young!Rust Cohle x fem!reader

VI. All your love is gone 1995!Rust Cohle x fem!reader

VII. Void. 2012!Rust Cohle x reader

ao3 link

Call of Duty

Form and Void – ex!John Price x wife!reader x Simon Riley

summary: In all the years of your relationship with Price, you would never guess he’ll be the crazy type of ex. Prying, never losing hope, annoying one – yes, but tormenting you and bothering your kids every second he could? It made all three of you anxious, worried about your every step. For years, you had a perfect marriage, and in one second, it turned into hell. The only good thing is that you have someone to call when your ex outdoes himself by causing a scene at your work, throwing punches, and scaring innocent people. It might be tense between you and Simon afterwards, but what choice do you have?

Hunting hound – huntsman!Johnny MacTavish x fem!reader

summary: Johnny didn’t mind when you looked at him the way you would at a stray dog. He was a hunting hound, after all, and he would cherish you as his master. You weren’t his to protect and worship, though.

Distractions – Simon Riley x fem!141!reader [soon]

[part 1]

[part 2]

summary: Simon wants to make sure the recruits know who they truly deal with after learning that one of them disrespected you. He puts some teaching into the kid’s head, also interrupting your session of distraction. You were supposed to watch the loudmouthed boy, but hey, a present for Simon’s birthday won’t figure out itself! He turns out to be a lot more picky than you would think. Apparently, what he likes best is holding your hand close, walking with you as a couple, and allowing himself to forget that it’s just for the good of the mission.

Red Dead Redemption

Cold dark earth (I'll crawl home to her) – Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

summary: For years, Arthur knew no remorse. At nights he slept peacefully as long as he could feel his woman close. None of them ever begged for another chance – he couldn't imagine an angelic person like his wife would have to ask for salvation. And him? He didn’t want anything else. Yet the ransome came in the small fragile flesh. A pale body, that with its trembling shook your whole world. Arthur wasn't punished for his sins with the boy's presence, no – it was much worse. It was his son, his frail son, and his weak body, who had to bear whips aimed at his father.

Devil's resting place – Arthur Morgan x vampire!reader

summary: The fragile sepulchral finding except her charm happens to hold an unknown, eerie strength. What can be sensed by women and children remains invisible to Arthur… or perhaps it is his wish to not see what he truly lusts after?

Fellow conman? – Hosea Matthews x actress!reader

summary: Saint Denis' theatre, a house of art and majesty, gets burned down in a terrible accident, but you have a friend who will help you out. He's afraid of how you will handle the company of ruthless outlaws, but it happens that actors and criminals are much alike. Or perhaps you simply consider it a similar job? The presence of a fellow conman certainly helps you adjust, and during a robbery where the two of you play main roles, he realizes there's something more to his admiration than woman's grace and solidarity of profession.

1914 Jack Marston x wife!reader

Cyberpunk 2077

Runaway champ – Viktor Vektor x fem!V

summary: A grand champion has been craved with Viktor's help, and then a father is involved. The thing about fathers… well, they tend to turn into phantoms, hunting memories of their children, slowly creeping into their minds, taking control, and pushing them towards danger. V used to come to Viktor for everything: arguments, breakups, loss… Now she disappeared. He never really stopped looking until he was held at gunpoint and blessed with an indirect message from her to leave her alone. So he did, but still hoped. That's until 5 years later she is shoved on his doorstep by Jackie and Misty, tired, bloody and in great trouble.

ao3 link

Bloodied Boots, Envious Echoes – Johnny Silverhand x fem!V

summary: In the world of Goro Takemuras and Solomon Reeds, who would have thought that it'd be a random dude making Silverhand go crazy jealous?

Far Cry 5

The savior angel – Joseph Seed x fem!reader

Summary: You couldn't refuse to take care of this man. You wanted to, you really did, but it would be a sin dirtying you for the rest of your life. You wanted him gone and out of your life, but it was your job to help. Your call. Maybe you would feel more compassion if he weren’t your father. Your work lies long forgotten, while he, in his new health, seeks the doing of the Lord. Then Joseph Seed appears to praise your effort and direct his people towards the light. Towards the side where he is the shine.

ao3 link

Uncharted

Victor Sullivan x reader

Samuel Drake x reader

Kingdom Come: Deliverance

Rattle [request] – Henry of Skalitz x bandit!reader

summary: Henry doesn’t try to cross shady people’s paths on purpose – well, usually. Unfortunately, he has the questionable luck of stumbling over a certain outlaw and recognizes that they aren’t much of a danger due to their condition. He’s a good christian, though, so why not offer a helping hand even to those who steal from your pocket?

Fargo

Purgatory Blight – Gator Tillman x wife!reader

The first time you had met Henry was shortly after your family had settled in Skalitz. You moved there from Prague after your grandfather had died, leaving his apothecary shop for your father to take over. But your father was a trained physician, so it did not take long until people would come to your shop not only for potions, herbs and ointments, but also in hopes of more extensive medical care. After all, Sir Radzig’s court physician was expensive and not often available to the common folk.

You had seen Henry around town many times, but never officially met him. That was, until one evening in late spring.

Your parents had left on a trip to Talmberg, leaving the Apothecary shop in the care of your older brother and you for a few days.

The shop had already been closed for the day, with your brother having gone to the tavern to meet his friends.

You, on the other hand, were occupied with your evening chores around the shop.

And when those were done, you were too tired to do anything except sleep. That was, until a loud noise ripped you from your slumber in the middle of the night.

Heavy pounding sounded against the front door of the house, jolting you upright in your bed. You nervously gripped the gray sheet that you used as a blanket, as the pounding continued. You glanced over to the other bed in the room, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth at the realisation that your brother had not yet returned, making you the only one at home.

Another round of poundings rattled the wooden door, sounding weaker this time, and you could make out a voice calling out. You sighed, your curiosity winning over, as you got up, grabbing the lantern off the small wooden stool between your and Jakub’s beds, before slowly descending the stairs that lead down to the shop area.

More knocking and a muffled groan came from behind the door.

“Who goes there!?” you called out warily, keeping a few steps of distance between yourself and the door.

“Sister! Open the door…” your brother's slurred words came as a response. “We need… your help-”

Your eyes widened as you quickly put down the lantern to the floor, hurrying over to the door before swinging it open to reveal two hunched figures standing in the night.

“Jakub!” you exclaimed. “What is going on?”

Your brother didn't respond, instead pushing past you into the house, dragging a stranger with him.

The faint light of the lantern illuminated the two figures, yet you still couldn't tell who it was that your brother brought in because his head was hanging low, obscuring his face. What you could make out however were the bruises on your brother's face, and the dark red stains on the front of the other man’s shirt.

“Jakub, what happened!?” You gasped at the sight "Who is this?”

Before responding, your brother made his way into the back part of your house, stumbling into the living area.

“We had a quarrel…” he trailed off, voice slurring drunkenly.

You huffed in annoyance. It was just like him to get into trouble the first chance he gets, with your parents out of town.

“With who?” you asked, following him up the stairs, one hand holding the lantern, the other outstretched towards his friend’s back, to provide them with stability. Jakub’s friend let out another pained groan as he was haphazardly dragged along.

“Hannes,” Jakub said. You recognised that name; you had seen him around town often, but your brother always talked negatively about him. You were about to give a comment when your brother added: “And Alex.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “The bailiff’s son? You are unbelievable…”

Jakub stumbled towards his bed, where he sat his friend down.

In the glow of the lantern, you finally recognised the unknown man as the blacksmith’s boy, Henry. His face was littered in bruises, dried blood from his nose caking his busted lips and chin. He seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness, swaying from side to side, pained groans interrupted by occasional drunken hiccuping.

His state made you almost feel sorry for him, if it weren't for the apparent circumstances under which he got into said state.

“Why did you bring him here?” you asked, turning towards your brother with a frown.

To your dismay, you found him slumped onto a bench near his bed, snoring quietly. You sighed defeatedly, turning back to Henry, who was now laying down. His eyes were closed, breathing heavy, as you watched him dart out his tongue over his lower lip only to wince at the contact with a split wound on the soft skin.

Your expression softened at his miserable state, and you made the decision to put your limited Apothecary knowledge to use and try to tend to his wounds.

__________________

Henry stirred awake to the slight sting as something touched the rough bruises on his knuckles.

He sharply sucked in air through his teeth, blearily opening his eyes to the sight of your unfamiliar face leaning over him. He swallowed dryly, mouth slightly agape, as he took in your form.

Your face, illuminated in the soft glow of a lantern, was gracefully framed by your hair. Your eyes, hidden behind long lashes, downcast as you gently worked on his hands. Your skin against his was smooth, your touches almost feathery. For a moment, Henry might have deliriously thought you were the Virgin Mary herself, before common sense scolded his absurdity. To him you were perfect.

You grinned sheepishly at him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”

Henry blinked a couple of times, tearing himself out of his stupor. “Forgive me,” his voice was coarse and he cringed at the sound of it.

You did not respond, instead continuing to dab ointment on his knuckles before wrapping them in thin bandages.

Henry’s gaze drifted around the room before falling to the sleeping form of his friend on a bench next to the bed. Seeing Jakub suddenly brought back the memories of how he ended up here in the first place, and only then did he realise who you were. Guilt rose inside of him at the hassle the two men had apparently created for you.

He looked back at you, just as you finished bandaging his hand, holding it in yours for a moment longer.

“I am sorry for the… trouble,” he said bashfully.

To his surprising disappointment, you let go of his hand with a chuckle. “I agree, it certainly isn’t how I imagined my night to go.”

You paused, regarding him with a thoughtful expression, before adding with a quieter voice: “It’s odd we have never talked before, is it not?”

Henry nodded slowly, trying to remember anything that might contradict your statement but only drawing blanks. “I am glad we have now,” he finally said, hoping he didn’t mistake the way you cast away your gaze in flushed embarrassment at his words.

You cleared your throat, moving away from the bed. “You should sleep while you can. You are pretty battered up after all,” you said, extinguishing the lantern, leaving nothing but the silvery moonlight to aid Henry in watching your silhouette climb into bed, before closing his eyes and drifting back into unconsciousness.

_____________

The next morning, both your brother and Henry seemed to have sobered up.

You had applied another round of ointment and bandages to Henry’s wounds before he would head out to return to his own home.

“If I stay any longer, my parents might rally a search party,” he had chuckled, standing at the door that led outside.

As he said his goodbye’s, thanking you and Jakub for taking him in and caring for his injuries, his eyes remained on you for longer than what might seem usual. Your gaze found his, causing his lips to form into a small smile, eyes shining with a fond adoration unlike anything anyone has ever regarded you with. Your cheeks flushed with blossoming heat under Henry’s lingering stare, and it was only at your brother’s awkward cough breaking the silence that you tore yourself from the moment that was shared between you and Henry. Embarrassed, you averted your gaze away from Henry’s face, watching wordlessly as he finally left.

Now alone, Jakub chuckled. “What did you do to him to have him drooling over you like that?”

You huffed, brows knitted into a scowl, a hand flying out to hit your brother's shoulder. “Sakra! Don’t be ridiculous, you moron!” you exclaimed, causing Jakub to break out into loud laughter, blocking your smacks with his own hand.

Ceasing your assault, you stuck your tongue out at him. “Better start getting the shop open, before any more crap comes out of your mouth.”

He waved you off, but nevertheless made his way to the shop room of the house, still cackling, leaving you alone to tend to your own chores.

In the following weeks, you became less and less sure whether Jakub had really been as ridiculous as you had called him.

After your parents returned from Talmberg, you had significantly more free time on your hands again, meaning you got to spend more time hanging around town with your friends. Theresa was the one you’d call your best friend, having befriended her just shortly after coming to Skalitz. But you also counted Bianca, the alehouse maid, and Johanka, who you were introduced to by Theresa, as very close friends. The four of you would often spend the majority of your free time together, and even hang around the tavern if Bianca had to work for her father.

During these times, you started to run into Henry more and more often.

At first, it seemed perfectly coincidental when you saw him outside the tavern accompanied by his friends, while you and your own friends were gathered around a table, waiting for Bianca’s father to release her from her duties. He had stopped to greet you with a boyish grin, asking about your day, before being dragged off into the tavern by his friend Fritz.

You also didn’t think anything of it when you crossed paths with him every time you ran an errand for your father around town.

“You seem to have so much free time. Does your father not put you to work, strong as you are?” you had laughed on one of those occasions and the way his eyes lit up at your subtle compliment was not lost on you.

“Of course he does,” he had replied, a twinge of exasperation unmistakable in his voice, “it must be good fortune that I still find the time to run into you so often.”

“Or it’s you slacking off…,” you had suggested with a teasing smile, before parting ways with him.

It was not just coincidental run-ins however. Suddenly, Henry stopped by the apothecary more and more often. A bruise here, a cut there; one week his muscles were sore, the next he had a sudden onset of fever. Everyone, including you, assumed he just made up excuses to not have to work and hang out with Jakub instead - which he usually did after these visits. However, you occasionally caught him watching as you did your chores around the shop, perking up ever so slightly if your gaze found his, a jovial smile forming on his lips.

In turn, it seemed that said chores took you on more trips to Henry’s father, the blacksmith, than usual. The fence around your family’s property being unexplainably damaged, requiring new nails to be fixed; shop tools going missing or breaking, needing to be replaced urgently - no matter what, your errand runs to the blacksmith became as frequent as Henry’s visits to your family’s shop.

Eventually, as time went on, it became nearly inevitable to run into Henry at least once during your day. Before you even had a chance to fully realise, you found yourself looking forward to these meetings - and you could feel the dull twinge of disappointment pulling at your heart on the rare occasions you didn’t see him.

Of course you were not oblivious to the way Henry acted around you - Jakub made thoroughly sure of that with his endless teasing. You didn't ignore his longing stares in your direction, the mirthful smiles lighting up his expression or the subtle brushes of his hand against yours if you stood close enough. But, it was never more than that, never more than distant affection; yet you could not help but find comfort in his fondness of you.

And it was only weeks later, during a warm summer afternoon, that your gentle yet stagnant relationship would change.

______________

The sun was swelling hot in the sky, as Henry walked the familiar trek to your family’s house.

Nearing the building, he spotted Jakub hammering away at the wooden fence in front of him, trying to keep a plank upright without hitting his fingers. A faint sense of guilt rose up in Henry’s chest as the memory of kicking the fence’s post, breaking the attached planks in the process, invaded his mind. He quickly swallowed the feeling down, reminding himself that his actions were with noble intent and Jakub surely didn’t mind the extra work since it was for a good cause.

Henry came to a halt in front of his friend, who looked up at him with a flash of recognition glinting in his eyes.

“How kind of you to come and keep your best friend company during his hard work,” Jakub said conspiratorially. “Assuming that’s why you’re here, of course.”

“Why else would I be here?” Henry said innocently, leaning against an undamaged fence post next to the broken one.

Jakub regarded him with a knowing look. “Henry, I know what you are doing.”

Henry’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the statement, guilt again rising up his throat like bile, this time mixed with panic. His eyes flitted to the broken planks on the ground and to the familiar nails in his friend’s hand. Did Jakub really know?

“Wha- How do you-,” Henry stammered, frantically racking his brain for an excuse.

Jakub interrupted him with a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “You are so painfully obvious. The way you are trailing around everyday like a lovesick fool, hoping to run into my sister.”

Henry blinked at his friend perplexed, before letting out a relieved breath. He felt his face grow hot at the realisation of Jakub knowing about his infatuation; but it was better than knowing what he got up to at night around the Apothecary shop.

A bashful grin broke out on Henry’s face, due to both relief and embarrassment. He scratched the back of his neck, before asking: “Does it bother you?”

Jakub remained thoughtfully silent for a couple seconds, hammering wordlessly at the plank in front of him. “It’s fun, watching you dance around her,” he finally said. Looking up, he added in a more serious tone: “Make sure not to turn it un-fun, Hal.”

Henry nodded; he understood Jakub’s meaning perfectly - ‘Don’t hurt my sister’.

Jakub spoke up again, before Henry’s thoughts could dwell on the warning. “On that note, she isn’t here. I believe she went to the pond with her friends.”

Henry’s eyes lit up at the information, thanking Jakub, before leaving him with a promise to stop by and chat later. The sliver of guilt at his own involvement in his friend’s predicament was immediately forgotten, replaced with a rush of excitement at the thought of seeing you, as he hurried along the path through town that led to the pond that Jakub mentioned.

________________

You sat on the grass at the very edge of the pond, dangling your feet loosely into the cool water.

Next to you, Theresa did the same. Behind you, Bianca and Johanka sat cross-legged in the meadow, picking daisies to weave them into delicate flower crowns.

Johanka sighed. “I just don’t believe he even sees me.”

“Matthias will come around eventually,” Theresa assured her, to which you and Bianca hummed in agreement.

“But not soon enough to ask me to the dance,” Johanka whined, causing you to send a sympathetic smile her way.

The four of you had been talking about tomorrow’s village dance for quite a while. Theresa and Bianca had been invited by Matthew and Fritz respectively, and Johanka was holding out hope for Matthias. No one had asked you yet, and you started to doubt anyone would at this point. Bianca had offered to get her brother Adam to take you, but you declined; the awkwardness of forcing someone to be your dance partner would be too much to bear. So you just resigned yourself to the very real possibility of going to the dance alone. You had even joked about taking Johanka, if Matthias would not, to which she had simply given you an affronted pout.

You could not deny the part of yourself that was disappointed that Henry hadn’t invited you, with the way the two of you had seemingly been dancing around each other for the last few months.

You lied down on the grass with a quiet sigh, staring into the blue sky, feet sploshing lightly in the water.

As if she could read your mind, Theresa said with a mischievous tint to her voice: “It’s odd Henry hasn’t tried inviting you, is it not, (Y/N)?”

You furrowed your brows at her teasing question.

“Now that you say it, Theresa, it does seem strange, what with all the time they spend together lately,” Bianca mused, before you could even think of a response.

“Maybe he is shy and waiting for her to invite him instead,” Johanka chimed in.

You craned your neck to where she was sitting, shooting her a glare. “Maybe the same is true for Matthias,” you retorted, playfully sticking out your tongue at your friend, earning yet another pout from her.

Before she had the chance to respond, Theresa made a shushing sound, whispering: “Speak of the devil!”

You abruptly sat up, looking around to see Henry walking off the path that led past the pond, making his way towards your group.

When he came to a halt with a greeting, he gave everyone a once-over, before resting his gaze on you. You looked at him expectantly, as you were sure the others did as well.

Before he had the chance to say anything else, Bianca interrupted him. “So, what brings you to us?” she asked, with a playful eagerness lacing her voice.

Henry chuckled bashfully. “I was hoping to talk to (Y/N). Maybe alone…,” he trailed off.

His words prompted you to get up to follow him to a spot out of earshot from your nosy friends, if it weren’t for a hand next to you giving the hem of your dress a subtle but firm tug to keep you in place.

“But she is sitting here so comfortably. Surely you can speak freely in front of us too, can you not?” Theresa chimed in, causing you to roll your eyes slightly at their transparency. They could not make their curiosity any more obvious.

Henry glanced at you, presumably searching for help but you just nodded at him with a smile, a part of you not minding seeing him being put on the spot.

“All right then,” he breathed, focusing his attention fully back on you, “would you like to accompany me to the dance tomorrow?”

Now it was your turn to be put on the spot, as your friends’ heads quickly turned towards you, their eyebrows raised expectantly.

Beneath your surprise at the invitation and the tension of the girls’ bated breaths, your heart swelled with a mixture of relief and joy. While you had never explicitly voiced it to anyone, you wouldn’t deny that you did indeed feel the gentle pull of a blossoming infatuation drawing you to Henry.

Your smile grew involuntarily wider, as you nodded quickly. “I would like that very much.”

In an instant, any trace of shyness was wiped off Henry’s features, the boyish grin that he sported so often returning to his lips.

“I’ll see you then,” he nodded, more to himself than anyone else. He turned around with a slight spring to his step, leaving you to look forward to the next day.

Before he was even really out of earshot - let alone sight - you and your friends broke out into excited giggles.

____________

The next evening, hours after he had picked you up from your home and taken you to the dance, Henry was sitting on a wooden bench against the tavern’s outside wall, a half-full tankard of beer in his hand. Next to him, Fritz, Matthias and Matthew were talking, their words more slurred than not, occasionally roping him into the conversation.

But Henry’s gaze remained fixed on you, swirling around the tavern’s yard with the other women, dancing mirthfully to the music. He watched you link your arm with Johanka’s, straining his ears to catch the tune of your voice over the crowd, as you laughed at something your friend had whispered to you.

Henry himself had danced with you to many songs over the course of the evening, until you had insisted on spending time with your friends as well - with a twinge of concealed disappointment Henry had settled on just watching you instead, content with the occasional smiles you threw his way, eager to reciprocate them.

In-between staring at you and occasionally tearing his eyes away to pay attention to the friends next to him, he noticed Zbyshek, leaning against a tree a small distance away. The other man’s eyes had been transfixed on the dancing crowd for a while, and when Henry eventually followed his gaze, he realised that Zbyshek had been staring at you in much the same way he had done himself.

Henry’s brows knitted into a scowl at the sight, his jaw hardening from his teeth grinding together. He already disliked Zbyshek enough due to the man’s cowardice and antagonizing behaviour towards him and his friend; he did not need other reasons for his disdain. But the way Zbyshek’s eyes followed you as if in a trance, the way his mouth was slightly parted, his eyes half-lidded; it made Henry’s blood boil. He thought the tankard in his hand might have burst if he had gripped it any harder, undecided if he should pretend it was Zbyshek’s face or simply throw it into the very same.

Relieving Henry of the burden of making a decision, the other male’s gaze flitted to where he was sat, as if his seething thoughts were loud enough to hear. Zbyshek’s eyes widened, before quickly looking away, making his way towards the crowd and out of Henry’s sight. With half a mind to follow him, Henry was snapped out of his angry daze by your voice calling out to him. You came to a stop in front of him, out of breath, radiant with glee, and it was as if Henry’s ire was soothed at the snap of a finger.

“Someone brought up the idea of playing Hide and Seek in the forest, will you come with us?” you asked excitedly, a faint but unmistakable lilt of alcohol in your voice.

Henry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The forest!? You couldn’t have picked a less dangerous place?”

You groaned playfully. “Oh don’t be a chicken, Henry!” you said, adding with a wink: “Besides, you guys will be there to protect us.”

Henry could not refuse you even if he wanted, especially not at the prospect of you relying on him to keep you safe. So he agreed, and along with Matthew, Matthias and Fritz he joined the group. The fact that Zbyshek tagged along as well was not lost on Henry, a dull annoyance settling in the back of his mind.

The trek to the forest was spent with jovial chatter and shared sips from wineskins that Bianca had smuggled out of the tavern. Henry for his part was torn between the cheerful mood of the group and the irate itch he felt at the sight of Zbshek trailing so close to you. Did he not know that you came to the dance with him, accepted his invitation? Did he not know that you were his alone?

Henry swallowed thickly, pushing his indignation to the bottom of his thoughts, shifting his attention to your voice as you giggled with Theresa, and at the occasional brushes of your knuckles against his own.

Eventually, the group reached a small moonlit clearing in the woods and Matthew volunteered to be the first seeker. After deciding on the bounds of where to hide, determined by recognizable sites in the forest, everyone scattered in pursuit of a hiding spot, leaving Matthew to wait with a small lantern in his hand.

The forest itself was much darker than the clearing, but still the canopy of the trees was sparse enough to allow sufficient moonlight to illuminate the ground. Thanks to that, Henry noticed Zbyshek following a distance behind you instead of searching a solitary hiding spot like everyone else. A scowl returned to Henry’s face, new white-hot fire traveling through his veins at the sight and he decided to follow as well, if only to uphold his unspoken promise to keep you safe for he didn’t trust Zbyshek any farther than he could throw him.

He trailed closely behind the other man, far enough to go unnoticed, but close enough to still glimpse the red colour of the cowl he wore. Henry wondered if you were still in the vicinity as well, since he lost sight of you due to the dark shadows between the trees. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by your voice ringing out a good distance ahead of him.

“Get lost, Zbyshek! You’re gonna get me found,” you called out to your pursuer, before quick rustling of leaves and breaking of twigs led Henry to believe you ran away in order to shake off Zbyshek.

The man in question looked around dumbfounded, seemingly trying to discern where you made off to, and Henry took the opportunity to catch up to him.

“Looking for someone?” Henry spoke through the darkness, causing Zbyshek to turn around, eyes widening.

“What’s it to you?” he retorted, chin raised defiantly.

Henry huffed at Zbyshek’s behaviour, eyes narrowing with anger. “I saw you stalking behind (Y/N).”

Zbyshek’s expression faltered at the accusation. “That’s none of your business.”

Henry shook his head, stepping closer to the other man. “I think it is,” he said, shoving Zbyshek’s shoulder’s roughly to accentuate his point. “Stay away from her.”

Zbyshek’s face contorted with exasperation when he mimicked Henry’s gesture. “She doesn’t belong to you,” he spat, teeth bared.

Every ounce of white-hot anger that Henry had suppressed over the evening bubbled up inside of him. Searing rage boiled his blood, travelling through his veins to his hand that he clenched into a fist - so tight that his fingernails dug into his palm, breaking the skin. The resulting sharp pain should have alarmed Henry, if it hadn’t been for his attention wholly focused on Zbyshek in front of him.

When Zbyshek called Henry pathetic, the words barely reached his ears, before the man’s words were cut off by the ugly crack of his nose caving under Henry’s fist.

________

After having shaken off Zbyshek, you had found a hiding spot at a small rock formation. It covered you from a lot of sides and would allow you to circle around to avoid Matthew, should he make his way to you.

It didn’t take long for you to hear rustling close to you, and you pressed closer to the rock, prepared to slip away. However, the noise was all there was - no sight of the lantern light that should accompany Matthew.

You furrowed your brows as the rustling grew louder, your first thought assuming it was Zbyshek once more trying to tail you.

You knew you should stay hidden, because for all you knew it might have been a wild animal, but curiosity took over your ale-addled mind and you opened your mouth to whisper-shout: “Who’s there?”

The noise ceased immediately, replaced by a tense silence. Your heart pounded in your chest, blood thumping in your ears with anticipation. Your mind swirled with regret and fear; what if you really had just attracted a dangerous animal to you - or worse, a bandit?

You held your breath for what felt like forever, until finally a familiar voice called out your name.

You exhaled, relieved at the sound, and emerged from your hiding spot.

“Henry!” you called out, relief lacing your voice with a newfound mirth. “Why aren’t you hiding?”

He took slow steps towards you, as he said “I was looking for you.”, earning a chuckle from you.

“That’s not how the game works, Hal…” you said, but trailed off when Henry was finally close enough for you to properly see him under the moonlight. He looked disheveled, more so than usual. His shirt was displaced and slightly torn, wetly darkened in various spots. What looked like blood gushed from his nose over his mouth to his chin, smudged where he must have tried to wipe it off. Your gaze travelled over his face, bruises and cuts littering the skin. It was almost like the very first time you had met him all those weeks ago in the Apothecary shop where you had nursed his wounds.

Almost - because back then his stare didn’t fill you with an odd sense of dread.

“What happened?” you whispered hoarsely, throat dry from nervousness, as you took a small step back.

As if sensing your unease, Henry’s gaze softened and he quickly closed the distance between you, hands placed on either of your arms. “I was looking for you,” he repeated, before adding: “I saw Zbyshek following you, so I wanted to make sure you are fine.”

Your brows knitted in confusion at his explanation. “Zbyshek…?” you spoke slowly, gaze wandering to the dark blotches on his shirt, now clearly recognizing the dull crimson. Your eyes widened in shock. “Henry, what did you do?” you asked, grimacing at all the possible answers to your question swimming around in your thoughts.

“I…” Henry stammered, desperation trickling into his voice. “I did what I had to! I only meant to protect you!”

Your stomach churned at the implication of his confession. You gulped hard, trying to keep the rising nausea at bay, before speaking once more, voice quivering. “How could you?”

“For you!” he spoke without letting so much as a second pass, pleading eyes searching for your own. “I did it for you,” he said, tightening his grip around your arms, forcing you back until you hit the rough bark of a tree.

Now you were truly trapped, and another wave of dread followed suit behind your realization. It was dizzying how fast the comfort that Henry’s presence had once brought you turned into fright; how his touch caused your skin to sear with panic; how his gaze elicited a shiver of fear to run down your spine.

But as you regarded his frantic expression, the way his eyes begged for your approval - your forgiveness - a small part of your mind, one that resided outside of sanity, wondered if you could ever be truly scared of Henry.

As if hearing your conflicting thoughts, Henry loosened his grip on your arms, instead settling his hands on your cheeks. He drew his face so close to yours that your noses were almost touching, the metallic tang of blood invading your senses in a dizzying haze.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you caught the same crimson colour that stained his face, glistening on his teeth. “I do everything for you,” he stressed with a whisper meant for your ears alone, so low that the forest itself could not have possibly heard it. “You are everything.”

You gasped at his admission, your breath hitching in your throat. Your eyes rapidly flickered between his, unsure of what to say. The flushing heat that crept its way onto your neck and face felt indecently out-of-place when the scent of blood was still a constant reminder of the situation you were really in. Your heart beat so fast, it might have threatened to jump out of your chest, if it weren’t for the aching tugs of clashing emotions threatening to tear it apart.

Your silence urged Henry to speak once more, now even closer than before, his warm breath ghosting over your lips. “May I kiss you?”

It was less a question and more a plea, a desperate demand almost. You wanted to tell him no, to push him away and call for help. But that was a task for the sane and logical part of your mind; not for the foolishly infatuated part that had wrestled itself into control slowly but surely. And against your better judgement, you answered Henry with a breathless ‘Yes’ muttered against his already impossibly close lips.

The kiss was intoxicating and nauseating at the same time, tasting bitter and sweet all at once. Henry roughly pressed against your lips, tightening his hold around your face.

You closed your eyes, hands grasping at Henry’s torn shirt. His tongue grazed over your lips and without much thought you parted them enough to allow the kiss to deepen, growing more fervent by the second. Slowly, his grip on your head loosened, as his gentle yet desperate touch trailed past your neck, grazing along your breasts and sliding over your hips.

A surprised gasp caught in your throat when he gripped the fabric of your dress, pulling it dangerously up your legs.

You tore yourself from the kiss, hands flying down to stop the movements of his arms. “Henry,” you panted, trying to catch your breath, “we shouldn't do this.”

Henry regarded you with a confused - almost pained - expression, his hands still holding the hem of your dress close to your thighs. “Why?” he asked. “Don't you want me?”

You met his eyes, biting your lips nervously under his pleading gaze. “I do,” you responded, “but the others will come looking for us. What if they find us here; find you - looking like this?” Your eyes flitted to the blood on his face and clothes. The reality of the situation you were in was not entirely forgotten; only pushed further into the recesses of your mind when Henry captured your lips in a kiss once more.

“Let them,” he breathed against you in-between kisses.

“I don't care.” He trailed down, planting rough kisses in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing against the soft skin.

“Let them know how much I need you.” He dragged the fabric of your dress further up to your waist, exposing you to the night air, its coldness only surpassed by the heat blooming throughout your body.

“Let them see that you are mine,” he spoke, pulling your hips towards himself, the hardness of his groin pressing flush against you.

One hand holding your dress, the other dug into the soft flesh of your butt with urgent fingers, eliciting a moan from you at the painful yet pleasant sensation.

You hand wove into his hair, fingers lightly tugging at his dark locks, drawing a low groan from Henry. You dragged him away from your throat, meeting his half-lidded gaze. All of your concerns abandoned, you drew him in for another kiss, swollen lips moving against each other, even more feverish than before.

Henry’s free hand wandered along your thigh, hooking behind the back of your knee, holding your leg to his side and pressing closer into you. You hummed in content when he rolled his hips against yours, his clothed length rubbing against your heat. You felt a warm dampness pooling between your legs and you had no doubt there would be a wet spot on Henry's pants where you two met.

Pressing you more into the tree to keep your dress in place, Henry's fingers trailed across your stomach towards the apex of your thighs, leaving goosebumps of anticipation tingling on your skin.

Just as Henry's thumb ghosted ever so slightly over your clit, loud voices rang out near you.

You broke away from the kiss, spotting a light from the direction of the voices, realising they were calling your names. Despite Henry's earlier professions about his indifference towards being caught, the reality of that possibility made it hard for you to share his sentiment, so you quickly pushed him away from you, earning a surprised yet irritated grunt.

“Sakra! It's Matthew and the others,” you whispered, panicked, smoothing your dress back in place to cover your private parts.

Henry stepped closer to you again. “I told you, I don't care-”

“But I do, Henry,” you interrupted him. “You’ll be in huge shit if they see you like this.”

He regarded you with a mix of defiance, but also understanding and even a faint trace of guilt.

“You should go. We’ll say later you were attacked by a wild animal, or something like that…,” you trailed off with a mutter, not entirely convinced about the validity of your plan.

Henry nodded slowly, before pressing another kiss to your lips, the smell of blood once again becoming present to your senses.

“I’ll meet you later,” he breathed, before hurrying off into the woods.

“Of course…” you whispered to yourself.

Now that he was gone, the gravity of the situation settled heavy on your mind. Henry had done something horrible, and yet you had been willing to give yourself to him, not to mention covering for him in front of your friends and possibly everyone else.

We seen how much this guy cares for his pack members even though he whould never admit it, so imagine how protective is he with you, someone spoke of you slightly baddly? this guy will be ready to chalange them into fight in instance , if u mention his overprotectivness he will just shrug you off saying you are just imagining things and being pain in the ass.

there are also a lot of casual examples of him caring about you, you struggling getting up on your horse? this guy grabs you and swings you on it and then acts like nothing had happend, you complain once about needing something? Next day it appears out of nowhere in your chambers.

he would be likely less harsh with you then with others if u didn’t listen his commands, not feeling like burning down villige? ok he will let it slide this time 🙄 , that wouln’d go unoticed by other, so just imagine everyone sharing akward silent glances, Janos and Adder would tease him so bad about it.

he would probably try to get you to drink with him, if you declined due to you being non drinker, he will play it off cool but be butt hurt and sit in silence getting drunk for rest of the night.

He would most likely confess to you while being drunk (which he is most of the time).

If you two happen to have kids he whould be the type of person that doesn’t know how to hold that baby no matter how many times you explain it to him, so he just proceeds to carry it by one of it’s legs or by back of it’s shirt when you aren’t around 💀

“Archers, get ready!”

Henry relaxed his jaw and squinted his eyes, yet once again he heard an eerie sound just behind him. He tried to focus on preparing his bow and directing the arrow properly, but he was growing more and more irritated.

He knew that none of the onlookers really cared about this competition, but in The Lord’s name, did they really have to be so loud?

But it was not the crowd that truly annoyed him. Just a certain hustle that he at first took for a sound of another bow, probably an old one, that let out a scratching rattle. It was unnerving to think that someone stood behind him with a weapon – his senses and precaution were sharpened from all he’s been through –   but he remained quiet.

Beating his opponents was the main goal now. He couldn’t get hurt here anyway, right under Trosky, on Lord von Bergow’s land.

Then he actually started worrying about whoever was there behind his back. It was as if someone was choking, and huffing from suffocation. It quickly blended in the cheers and curses of the crowd when his last arrow hit the center of the target. Most of the people set their bets on him; he made his name a bit known around here, after all. Only those who put their money on a local guard were bold enough to grumble and even spit on the ground when they thought he didn’t look.

He shot a quick glare at the other archers, and an immediate smile creeped onto his face. Just then he felt a bump, someone must have tripped and hit him in the back. He couldn’t really see who it was. When he looked back he was met only by an indulgent smile of a woman from the village and a nasty provoking face from one of the guard’s friends.

It took him a moment to calm down from the burst of happiness caused by the win. His expression morphed into sudden disappointment when he touched the pouch where he kept all his groschen. He did that instinctively, like he already knew about the void that he would find.

“Sakra...”

It wasn’t exactly empty, but it certainly weighed less than it did when he checked last time. Not even the money won in the competition could cover that.

Only now did he realize what the bump was for. Looking around, he allowed his eyes to move to the road near the main gate – the only way out of the quarry.

It took him just a moment to see a suspicious figure walking away with a hood pulled over their head. They moved at a quick pace – just like a pickpocketter would – but with a limp. A bit of a pathetic sight, if Henry was to be honest. He looked at the remains in his pockets and realized that for whatever reason they didn’t take much. Probably thinking it was harder to notice that way. But Henry wasn’t just some first fool that didn’t count the money he carried around. Not in those times, and not here. If he was a dreamer visionary, rich painter like Voyta, or even a noble like sir Hans, he probably wouldn’t care, but a blacksmith’s son? No matter how rich and famous he would turn he would always respect his coin…

Yet, it was a sum small enough for him to let it slip. It could also be curiosity that made him set back any reaction just for now and learn more first.

He almost smiled when he caught Bohumir, the archery contest keeper, looking in the same direction. The man turned his head immediately when he noticed Henry staring and muttered something under his breath. Henry would swear it was a curse. 

“Who’s that?” He asked straightforwardly when he approached him.

He had another card in his sleeve if Bohumir didn’t want to speak. They both remember the money he owed Henry after some of the previous competitions. A rather nice number that Henry doubted he had to his name just like that.

“I—Uhm… None of your business, feller.”

“Come one,” Henry pried with a suggestive face. He didn’t even have to say that the groschen could be forgotten if he told the truth, because Bohumir knew.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance and waved his hand incoherently, somewhere in the direction where the strange person disappeared. “They are my source of fletchings,” he muttered under his breath.

Henry frowned.

“Fletchings?”

“Feathers?” Bohumir said like he was talking to a complete idiot. “For the arrows?”

“Oh. So a poacher then!”

The man’s face grew red almost at once and if he could, he would probably slap the younger man right away, shushing him to be quiet.

“How dare you—No! I am allowed to hunt the birds. I have a permit from the lord,” he argued.

“You do,” Henry pointed out. “What about them?”

Bohumir scratched the skin on the nape of his neck and sighed.

“They hunt… on my behalf?”

Oh, if only it was that easy. It was Henry’s turn to roll his eyes. Obviously, he wasn’t very interested in prying into something that wasn’t his business, but he wanted to know more about the strange person.

“And they live off of selling feathers. It’s illegal even if they sell it to you. Yet I doubt that they only hunt birds,” he started enumerating, and the other man was turning more and more red. “There’s also the matter of robbing people, from what I've noticed. Did you know about that?”

“It's not my thing what they live off!” He snapped which made Henry smile cunningly.

“Is that so? Or do you split what they steal during the competitions that you organize?”

Bohumir threw his hands in the air while dropping a bow that he was working on. He faced Henry fully and looked around in case anyone was watching them.

“What do you want from me, boy? I know nothing about that! Anyway what are you, a snitch?”

The Skalitz’s man played it off, just enjoying how annoyed the archer was. “Eh, it’s nothing. Do you know their name, though, master archer?”

“I don’t ask for the names of shady people,” he muttered. “I like to avoid them outside the necessity.”

Henry hummed. “It would be a shame if I had to whisper a word to Lord Otto...”

“You wouldn’t dare… Oh, alright! They go by Y/n. That’s what they told me, but I don’t know anything else! Just… Just go now.”

“Oh, I will, believe me.”

“And Henry?” He stopped him. “If you cause me any trouble, you can forget about your money, got me?”

What an audacious man he was.

“We’ll see about that.”

During that time Henry wasn’t exactly loved by the innkeeper in Troskowitz. He tried his best to repay Betty for every problem he was a reason for, but that didn’t help much. The woman simply couldn’t stand him. Well, for now. Surely she had to get over it one day, right?

For how long was he bit to sleeping in abandoned huts and on hay? He could almost hear his parents’ voices in his head. His mama’s scowl and a shake of her head at the idea that her son was camping in the middle of nowhere alone, and Martin’s approving nod. He certainly did worse things than that, anyway. Still, now, when he had enough coin, he longed for a night spent in a real bed… or at least in the village, in safety.

The wilderness didn’t scare him, but sometimes he found staying awake and alert a more sensible option than sleeping. He suffered through the day later and cursed out his damned choice, but on some nights he just couldn’t lay his head on the ground and close his eyes. No matter how weary he was.

Tonight was one of those moments. It was nearly impossible that the fact he was robbed so easily shook him that much – again, he has been through much worse – but he stayed awake almost since dawn. Usually he was the hunter, hiding in the bushes, waiting for a good moment to strike, use somebody’s weaknesses, and now he felt like one of his prey. Perhaps he realized he was too reckless, and felt too sure of himself lately…

It was an odd and unusual feeling, but he was grateful when the first sparks of sunlight appeared on the blackened sky. The darkness turned into overwhelming gray. It was about to be an ugly day, and apparently the early morning was the only part of it free from rain.

Henry stood up to stretch his limbs after hours of sleepless rest. He looked into the kettle that he kept over the fire, and while ignoring the grumble of his stomach he strolled through the meadow, down towards a road. He moved slowly, without fear or fret. He kept most of the valuable things he owned in a sac that he carried over his neck under the shirt, so he only crouched to discreetly pick up a small dagger.

He wasn’t a fool nor an inexperienced lad anymore. He could feel when somebody’s eyes were on him.

A decision to leave his camp unguarded wasn’t perfect, but there was nothing of much value to be stolen. If someone was to take his food, Henry wouldn’t even feel that bad. He could buy more for himself, and he had seen all of those faces marked by starvation. It even appeared to him as a right thing to do – some people were too proud to ask for help, so they turned to crime.

What he knew was that whoever was watching him, they wouldn't approach while he was sitting there. If they were after his riches, then they would follow him instead of rummaging in his camp.

He called at Mutt to set the dog free, and let him chase some game for his own amusement. With a turn to a path nearby a graveyard, he stopped looking over his shoulder. It was as if he was tempting good luck. Perhaps he truly was.

The temple of the dead was empty. It shouldn’t be strange at this hour, but Henry knew Ignatius’ habits – the gravedigger liked to start his work early. Today he couldn’t be seen nearby. Maybe it was the weather that made him stay inside longer.

And yes, the weather… It truly turned disgusting. A drizzle started coming from the dark clouds, and the wind howled like it wanted to rip Henry’s head off. He looked around in front of him, watching the disturbing sight of mist slowly creeping between the gravestones. Was such conditions even possible at the same time?

The tension was almost visible in the air, like some dark shroud fell over the cemetery, brought by an unwanted presence. Henry knew that it wasn’t him, who was the intruder. He slowly walked between the graves, almost making his way to the chapel, when he heard a shuffle behind him.

A shuffle and the terrible rattle that he heard the day before. The choking, awful sound, like a soul wanting to escape its sinister body. Well, it was probably turning dramatic only in his head now… It couldn’t be that bad anyway – he had his blade and his dog nearby to come to his every call.

He turned without a rush and instead of a devil in black armor and red spark coming from its eyes, he saw a figure dressed in black that bent their back and suffered from a fit of cough. A bandit that he saw under Trosky, the same person that robbed him.

And damn, you would prefer to be a hellish presence, a devil’s spawn themselves – all if you could be free from the sickness that clung to you for a few days.

“Oh, fuck,” you wheezed, word breaking out of your throat almost on their own. “God be good to me.”

Now Henry was sure. Whoever said the name of The Lord certainly wasn’t from the underground.

It made him smile a bit, suddenly feeling safe and guarded.

“First steal then call for God?” He teased, letting you know that he recognized you.

You straightened your back with a scoff, and pulled at the band that covered your face with annoyance. It was a lost cause anyway… You could only hope that the man won’t cause you a hanging. The blade of a pickaxe torched to your belt sparked even without sun or light, but you were now certainly too tired to use it properly.

And Henry… Perhaps he didn’t look like a real knight, but he also didn’t look like someone who was miserable when it came to a fight. You saw the broad shoulders and ease that he carried himself with. Not to mention the dagger he hid so well that you would miss it if you weren’t so used to spotting such things.

“Just,” you spat out, struggling to take a proper breath and reaching into your pocket to pick what you stole from him, “just take your money back and don't mock me.”

You threw the groschen to his feet, knowing he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come closer if you offered it on your hand. Hopefully he would be merciful, since you gave back what’s his…

It would be a lie to say you cared about any of that now. You were completely overwhelmed by the fact that your eyes refused to work and were covered by a black cloud, your breath turning rugged again. You coughed again, praying to not fall to your knees.

“Almost as if you were punished for your crimes already,” Henry said, picking up his money and taking a step closer.

He was there just in time to offer you his shoulder when you tripped.

“I said don’t mock me,” you muttered.

You knew you were in no position to make demands, but who could get behind a bandit’s pride, aye?

It made Henry laugh. “Do you want some help or not?” He asked as if to know if you would continue to complain.

“Help?” You frowned.

“That’s what I offered.”

“I steal from you, and you want to ‘help’ me?” You repeated, almost smiling from amusement.

Yeah, that was pretty much what he was doing, and he knew at least a dozen people that would call him a fool for that. Perhaps everyone who had some common sense. Everyone but his Ma. She certainly would be proud… Well, if you won’t stab him to death, of course.

“And now you’re choking right in front of me,” he pointed out. “You know the saying don’t repay bad with something even worse?”

“Lord, I robbed a poet,” you said sarcastically, and finally cave in to support yourself on him. “I’m supposed to believe that you do it out of what? Altruism?”

Henry shrugged. “Something like that.”

“I don’t–”

“You have to hand me your weapon, nonetheless,” he ordered, and you blinked at him like the words made you mute. “I’m not a fool,” he explained.

You had no choice anyway, did you?

“Fine.”

He accepted it without much more teasing. You must have appeared in his eyes like a truly pathetic banding.

“I might have a few potions in my camp that would make you feel better.”

“So you’re not only a poet, but also a doctor and an alchemist as well? I almost see why you’re not scared of me. I should be scared of you.” You certainly weren't, considering your indifferent voice.

A voice of someone too sick to care.

Henry didn’t react at the small provocation.

“The archer from Trosky said you call yourself Y/n.”

“That’s my name. What else am I supposed to be called?”

He ignored it again. “I’m Henry.”

You hummed in acknowledgment.

“For how long have you been sick?”

“A few days, doc. It only turned bad tonight.”

“You sat in the bushes watching me the whole night, didn’t you? No surprise it made you feel worse.

Smartass, you thought. “Maybe,” you mumbled, not willing to say he was right.

You made your way back to his camp, and he told you to have a seat. Your senses sharpened immediately at the smell of food in the kettle.

“Want some?” He asked, noticing your hungry stare.

“Damn, of course I want some. What are you eating?”

“Stew.”

He looked too cheerful to your liking, so you decided to roll your eyes. “Eww. It’s a day of fasting today, actually.”

“I know. It's a beaver,” he said, nodding to the meal, like you just accused him of a murder.

“How is it supposed to help? It’s meat.”

“It’s fish,” he argued.

“Beaver is a fish, Henry?”

“Well… It swims,” he tried to reason. “Anyway, that’s what monks eat.”

You raised your brow. “How do you know?”

“I visited a monastery once. In Sassau.”

It seemed like you were in the presence of a jack of all trades… You weren’t sure yet if you liked it or not.

“Monks are stupid,” you said under your breath and coughed into your sleeve.

“That would be blasphemy.”

Ugh, what an annoying man. And at worse an annoying man that just handed you his food and offered help, probably saving your life with that.

“No, it’s not. I’m not speaking against holy men, I just… rate them,” you stated surely.

“… Fine,” he eventually agreed.

Against your opinion, you weren’t the most pathetic bandit Henry ever encountered, but certainly the most stubborn one.

And interesting, but he wouldn’t admit that even to himself just yet.