The monster dies and Hal becomes Henry becomes King Henry becomes the indignity the old men must suffer in these days that are the future, the present, soon to be past. Not only the old men suffer, however, the young head that wears the crown suffers, too, in dignified silence. They find it disconcerting how still their new king can be, standing or sitting, still as a statue, his sleepy yet direct gaze fixed on whomever is speaking.
Henry misses being Hal but refuses to open the gates to regret. This, choosing the crown over golden, carefree days of youth, has been the right choice to make. He may not have been there for his brother or England when the old tyrant drowned it in strife and terror but he is here now and determined to be a different ruler than the man before him.
After yet another endless meeting with the old men, the young king sends his servants away, trades his furs and silks for dark wool, the garments of young Hal, and disappears from the palace. His feet carry him through the narrow streets of London, past the rowdy crowds inside the taverns and the sweet sing-song of the whorehouses, straight to the home of a young genius wearing the name of a saint.
The light is still on, as always, and Henry slips in unannounced as so many nights before. Once inside he pulls the hood of his cloak down to reveal his face. It has been a while since he has shown his face in this part of the city or in the streets at all, but there is no hesitation, no rueful or embarrassed smile. Hal has never explained himself and neither will Henry.
"A gaggle of old men rubbed holy water and oil on me after chopping off my hair," Henry says in lieu of a proper greeting. "But you are awake as always. Why is that?"
Peter's life is quite simple by comparison. He grew up under humble terms with a loving family, suffered loss, but was given the opportunity to pursue education and thrive as a young man. While he may not have the heavy weight expectations and responsibilities on his shoulders to the extent that the king does, he still bears enough for his small family. Finding work he's inspired about while also making enough to keep him and his aunt comfortable has been a blessing, and Peter wouldn't be where he is now if it wasn't for the king's support in his newfound apprenticeship. It helps that they've been good friends for a while now.
Up late and constantly working, Peter hardly finds room to sleep these days. He's distracted himself with his own work and continuous study, much to his poor aunt's concern. Peter wants to make a good impression on the king but a part of him has also been mourning a loss of something innocent, of the kind of friendship he knows they can't sustain with his new title. An important one. The most important.
He's slouched over his desk scribbling away at some new designs when Henry seems to appear directly from his thoughts. It's enough to make Peter jump in his seat from surprise, eyes wide as he looks up at the other young man, and in an effort to scramble to his feet he nearly trips over himself. God help him.
"I- I wasn't expecting- uh, Your Grace." He awkwardly bows with the title, unsure what to do with himself. They were (are?) friends, yes, but Henry is also his king now. Is he supposed to greet him with respect or informality? It's all so confusing and complicated.
Peter feels heat rising to his face upon realization that he's being terribly awkward and he offers the other a sheepish smile. "My aunt always said I have too great an imagination. My head is constantly bursting with ideas. I can't sleep until I free them." His heart is racing something fierce in seeing him again in such an informal setting.
Perhaps Peter has summoned the young king by the power of his mind. It would explain why Henry has chosen this night to wander through the streets of London unguarded and in disguise. It would get Peter into a lot of trouble with the Church.
"That must mean you never sleep, then? You have one of the most exceptional minds I know." Hal steps closer, letting the awkwardness pass uncommented as to not make them feel even more distant. Peter has done everything right according to protocol, yet it feels all wrong to let the genius bow and call him 'your grace'.
"Show me what you're working on?" One hand on Peter's shoulder, a reassuring smile on his lips, Hal nods towards the desk. "Or tell me something, anything you want. It feels as if I have not seen you in forever."
He isn't sure how to act but of course Hal crosses all invisible barriers and walks right up to him, all smiles and familiar touches. It makes Peter's insides turn pleasantly and he visibly relaxes, returning that smile. They haven't been alone like this since he was crowned and Peter doesn't know what to do with himself. Knowing things don't necessarily have to change between them is... comforting. He hopes that's the case anyway.
"Nothing too special, I was just finishing the new proposal for these canon designs. I think I found a way to make them faster, without causing irreparable damage..." It's more "work" than a personal project, obviously, but even this late at night his mind can't rest. Seeing his old friend smiling and more relaxed has thoroughly distracted Peter from it though, and he follows softly: "I think the haircut suits you."
No, they really haven't seen each other in ages, have they? He takes a moment to look at Hal under the softer glow of candlelight and finds it suits him far better when he's this close, rather than sitting up on a throne he begrudgingly accepted.
"I was actually just thinking about you," he admits carefully, color rising to his cheeks so easily. "And then you appeared at my door as if by magic. Were you listening?"
So much has changed, almost everything, since the old king passed, and Hal knows he has neglected his old friends terribly. Understandable, yes, but also unforgivable. So here he is, making amends in what small ways he can.
"You have? I knew you could do it." Excitement mixed with a hint of pride colours his voice, as he bends over the designs, recalling half-drunken conversations about modern warfare and how unnecessarily brutal the current arsenal of weaponry seems. Hal is studying the drawings, reading them the way Peter has taught him when the young genius speaks up again.
"You do? I'm glad somebody does. I am still getting used to it." A soft, mildly embarrassed laugh, and then he straightens again, his attention fully on the other man.
"I cannot say what compelled me to leave the palace, only that I felt that I had to, and then my feet carried me to you. Perhaps it was magic." His hand moves as if to reach out for Peter but Henry catches it in time and lowers it back onto the desk, uncertain if it would be welcome, but also aware that they have to be more careful now. Nobody cared about young Hal's antics. Everyone is watching King Henry.
"I miss you," he admits, voice barely above a whisper.
"Next I'll be working on the efficiency, but for now I think I've made great headway." Hearing Hal's excitement makes Peter smile, feeling proud at the reaction. In a perfect world they wouldn't ever have to go to war or kill or any of those nasty, horrendous realities of the real world, but Peter learned long ago that his ideals are mostly dreams. His inventions are helping keep their kingdom safe and that includes the king. The fact that Hal feels similarly only made him want to be his friend even more, and then some.
The shy, embarrassed laughs and looks only add to Peter's fondness, and when he notices that hesitation he's quick to react, hand reaching out to brush fingers along Hal's own against the table. It's a simple touch of finger to finger, and Peter offers him a warm smile, his voice just as quiet when he speaks:
"I miss you too. Often." Here in his modest little house, no one could even predict that the king is standing in Peter's study. They don't need to know. Even when Peter is working behind the castle walls he doesn't really get to see Hal, to spend time with him like they used to.
"I didn't know if... you'd still want to see me," he admits just as quiet, gazing down at their hands. "I know you can't."
"I want to. Of course, I want to," Hal whispers fiercely, lifting his gaze from where their fingers are barely touching. But even that small brush is more than enough to remind him of the sacrifices this crown has demanded in this short time.
"But it is more... difficult now. There are eyes everywhere and I don't wish to expose you to unnecessary danger." How did his darling sister put it? They all have their own kingdoms behind their eyes? Hal hadn't even wanted this one and standing in Peter's humble abode makes him weak in the knees, wishing he'd been spared from this burden.
"I could," he whispers, bowing his head until he can feel the brush of Peter's hair against his cheek, "try to make time and come here every now and then."
Not too often or it'll rouse suspicion, but they are at the brink of a war with France, and the young king needs advanced weapons.
The temptation is strong with Hal here in his home, standing close and whispering words Peter has wished to hear for a long time. It would be irresponsible for either of them to continue the secret relationship they had before Hal became King, but that doesn't mean the desire or feelings ever went away.
His eyes remain fixed on their hands, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tries to keep his emotions in check. Peter's always been more emotional than usual, and this surprise reunion isn't helping any.
"It's dangerous, like you said. I don't want to get you in trouble either." And they both know Peter would be the one more cruelly punished, if anything. Even so, it's obvious he wants to ask the young man to stay, his finger only tightening around Hal's in their simple touch.
Hal skips the magenta in favour of midnight and sparkly because it goes better with Peter's suit. Part of him is curious to see if this party really is just a way to get the two young men to show up together, but he isn't too obsessed with finding out. He's more focused on having a good with Peter since they don't get that many opportunities to dress up and go to big parties as a couple. The major perk of coming to this party is that there's no press and that none of the guests are the type that would need the tabloid money.
Hal gets out of the car, straightening his suit before reaching for Peter's hand without hesitation. And then they're inside with a hundred people around give or take.
"Should we say hello or should we see how long we can remain undetected?"
Peter pretty much never has an excuse to dress up fancy and go out, so on the occasions he does, he's glad he can be with Hal. They don't get to spend time at actual events together as a couple either for obvious reasons, though lately they've been bolder and about making their relationship clear. Peter just hopes tonight goes well and doesn't end up disastrously embarrassing considering who the host is and how sneakily he tried to invite Peter by default.
Hal looks great (as usual) and Peter hopes he also does him justice as his date tonight. The suit he has on is something ridiculously expensive and gifted by his boyfriend. It's the most expensive thing he owns other than the spider-suits.
"More fun to try to play under the radar," he says with a grin, squeezing Hal's hand. "I'm hungry, maybe we can find something to eat?"
Hal and Peter stand against a bulwark of hundreds of years of tradition and protocol. The young king's misspent youth leaves a bad taste in everyone's mouth and the palace intrigue prevents Hal from just shoving this relationship down the court's throat and watch it choke.
This is Politics. No matter how much Hal despises it, he too has to play the game now, which doesn't mean surrender or defeat. He prefers subversion, standing a little too close, a small touch here, an affectionate smile there, and he's glad Peter understands. So, yes, they'll take advantage of the privacy Tony Stark provides tonight, and Hal is happy to follow Peter around in search of food.
"Try these, they're delish." Hal hands Peter a piece of puff pastry topped with some kind of savoury paste, and starts assembling different cheeses on his plate. "Do you come to these often?"
Peter sometimes feels like he's in over his head with this relationship purely because of the expectations that follow Hal like an unwanted shadow. Hal does his best to stick it to tradition but how long will that last? It makes Peter sad to consider if he dwells on it too much, but... at least they're enjoying their time together now, however long this semblance of freedom will endure.
Here though, they get to be themselves for a little while and it's really refreshing. Even though Peter will know people here on a personal level, they don't scare him as much as the court.
"Ooh that looks good and fancy," he says, happily accepting the puff which he shoves into his mouth almost immediately. He can't tell what's in it but his taste buds approve.
Peter lingers close by as they pile up plates, shaking his head at Hal's question. "I don't really get invited to these types of events," he says, wrinkling his nose. "Or, like... any events, now that I think about it. Nothing that requires fancy attire, anyway."
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@spideysense
Henry misses being Hal but refuses to open the gates to regret. This, choosing the crown over golden, carefree days of youth, has been the right choice to make. He may not have been there for his brother or England when the old tyrant drowned it in strife and terror but he is here now and determined to be a different ruler than the man before him.
After yet another endless meeting with the old men, the young king sends his servants away, trades his furs and silks for dark wool, the garments of young Hal, and disappears from the palace. His feet carry him through the narrow streets of London, past the rowdy crowds inside the taverns and the sweet sing-song of the whorehouses, straight to the home of a young genius wearing the name of a saint.
The light is still on, as always, and Henry slips in unannounced as so many nights before. Once inside he pulls the hood of his cloak down to reveal his face. It has been a while since he has shown his face in this part of the city or in the streets at all, but there is no hesitation, no rueful or embarrassed smile. Hal has never explained himself and neither will Henry.
"A gaggle of old men rubbed holy water and oil on me after chopping off my hair," Henry says in lieu of a proper greeting. "But you are awake as always. Why is that?"
no subject
Up late and constantly working, Peter hardly finds room to sleep these days. He's distracted himself with his own work and continuous study, much to his poor aunt's concern. Peter wants to make a good impression on the king but a part of him has also been mourning a loss of something innocent, of the kind of friendship he knows they can't sustain with his new title. An important one. The most important.
He's slouched over his desk scribbling away at some new designs when Henry seems to appear directly from his thoughts. It's enough to make Peter jump in his seat from surprise, eyes wide as he looks up at the other young man, and in an effort to scramble to his feet he nearly trips over himself. God help him.
"I- I wasn't expecting- uh, Your Grace." He awkwardly bows with the title, unsure what to do with himself. They were (are?) friends, yes, but Henry is also his king now. Is he supposed to greet him with respect or informality? It's all so confusing and complicated.
Peter feels heat rising to his face upon realization that he's being terribly awkward and he offers the other a sheepish smile. "My aunt always said I have too great an imagination. My head is constantly bursting with ideas. I can't sleep until I free them." His heart is racing something fierce in seeing him again in such an informal setting.
no subject
"That must mean you never sleep, then? You have one of the most exceptional minds I know." Hal steps closer, letting the awkwardness pass uncommented as to not make them feel even more distant. Peter has done everything right according to protocol, yet it feels all wrong to let the genius bow and call him 'your grace'.
"Show me what you're working on?" One hand on Peter's shoulder, a reassuring smile on his lips, Hal nods towards the desk. "Or tell me something, anything you want. It feels as if I have not seen you in forever."
no subject
"Nothing too special, I was just finishing the new proposal for these canon designs. I think I found a way to make them faster, without causing irreparable damage..." It's more "work" than a personal project, obviously, but even this late at night his mind can't rest. Seeing his old friend smiling and more relaxed has thoroughly distracted Peter from it though, and he follows softly: "I think the haircut suits you."
No, they really haven't seen each other in ages, have they? He takes a moment to look at Hal under the softer glow of candlelight and finds it suits him far better when he's this close, rather than sitting up on a throne he begrudgingly accepted.
"I was actually just thinking about you," he admits carefully, color rising to his cheeks so easily. "And then you appeared at my door as if by magic. Were you listening?"
no subject
"You have? I knew you could do it." Excitement mixed with a hint of pride colours his voice, as he bends over the designs, recalling half-drunken conversations about modern warfare and how unnecessarily brutal the current arsenal of weaponry seems. Hal is studying the drawings, reading them the way Peter has taught him when the young genius speaks up again.
"You do? I'm glad somebody does. I am still getting used to it." A soft, mildly embarrassed laugh, and then he straightens again, his attention fully on the other man.
"I cannot say what compelled me to leave the palace, only that I felt that I had to, and then my feet carried me to you. Perhaps it was magic." His hand moves as if to reach out for Peter but Henry catches it in time and lowers it back onto the desk, uncertain if it would be welcome, but also aware that they have to be more careful now. Nobody cared about young Hal's antics. Everyone is watching King Henry.
"I miss you," he admits, voice barely above a whisper.
no subject
The shy, embarrassed laughs and looks only add to Peter's fondness, and when he notices that hesitation he's quick to react, hand reaching out to brush fingers along Hal's own against the table. It's a simple touch of finger to finger, and Peter offers him a warm smile, his voice just as quiet when he speaks:
"I miss you too. Often." Here in his modest little house, no one could even predict that the king is standing in Peter's study. They don't need to know. Even when Peter is working behind the castle walls he doesn't really get to see Hal, to spend time with him like they used to.
"I didn't know if... you'd still want to see me," he admits just as quiet, gazing down at their hands. "I know you can't."
no subject
"But it is more... difficult now. There are eyes everywhere and I don't wish to expose you to unnecessary danger." How did his darling sister put it? They all have their own kingdoms behind their eyes? Hal hadn't even wanted this one and standing in Peter's humble abode makes him weak in the knees, wishing he'd been spared from this burden.
"I could," he whispers, bowing his head until he can feel the brush of Peter's hair against his cheek, "try to make time and come here every now and then."
Not too often or it'll rouse suspicion, but they are at the brink of a war with France, and the young king needs advanced weapons.
no subject
His eyes remain fixed on their hands, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tries to keep his emotions in check. Peter's always been more emotional than usual, and this surprise reunion isn't helping any.
"It's dangerous, like you said. I don't want to get you in trouble either." And they both know Peter would be the one more cruelly punished, if anything. Even so, it's obvious he wants to ask the young man to stay, his finger only tightening around Hal's in their simple touch.
@spideysense
Hal skips the magenta in favour of midnight and sparkly because it goes better with Peter's suit. Part of him is curious to see if this party really is just a way to get the two young men to show up together, but he isn't too obsessed with finding out. He's more focused on having a good with Peter since they don't get that many opportunities to dress up and go to big parties as a couple. The major perk of coming to this party is that there's no press and that none of the guests are the type that would need the tabloid money.
Hal gets out of the car, straightening his suit before reaching for Peter's hand without hesitation. And then they're inside with a hundred people around give or take.
"Should we say hello or should we see how long we can remain undetected?"
no subject
Hal looks great (as usual) and Peter hopes he also does him justice as his date tonight. The suit he has on is something ridiculously expensive and gifted by his boyfriend. It's the most expensive thing he owns other than the spider-suits.
"More fun to try to play under the radar," he says with a grin, squeezing Hal's hand. "I'm hungry, maybe we can find something to eat?"
no subject
This is Politics. No matter how much Hal despises it, he too has to play the game now, which doesn't mean surrender or defeat. He prefers subversion, standing a little too close, a small touch here, an affectionate smile there, and he's glad Peter understands. So, yes, they'll take advantage of the privacy Tony Stark provides tonight, and Hal is happy to follow Peter around in search of food.
"Try these, they're delish." Hal hands Peter a piece of puff pastry topped with some kind of savoury paste, and starts assembling different cheeses on his plate. "Do you come to these often?"
no subject
Here though, they get to be themselves for a little while and it's really refreshing. Even though Peter will know people here on a personal level, they don't scare him as much as the court.
"Ooh that looks good and fancy," he says, happily accepting the puff which he shoves into his mouth almost immediately. He can't tell what's in it but his taste buds approve.
Peter lingers close by as they pile up plates, shaking his head at Hal's question. "I don't really get invited to these types of events," he says, wrinkling his nose. "Or, like... any events, now that I think about it. Nothing that requires fancy attire, anyway."