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The Price of Prosperity

Summary:

The choice between the kingdom's prosperity and Sir Harley Keener's personal prosperity is tested when he is forced into an arranged marriage with Sir Bradley Davis. So, he must choose between his love for his manservant, Peter Parker, or the good of his kingdom.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

They were never supposed to fall in love. 

Peter was just his manservant. He cleaned his quarters, assisted him in the court, brought him his food, and provided him company and additional protection. 

Peter was supposed to be just his manservant, but Harley couldn’t resist.

Peter was always professional. He did his job with diligence and was a tenacious young man. He was timely, orderly, and organized. He was thorough when he cleaned and was quick and precise when he helped Harley into his knightly armor. However, Harley could not wean his temptation as Peter was on his hands and knees scrubbing the floor or his gentle hands brushed against his skin when he dressed him.

Harley kissed him first. He had just gotten back from a duel, and Peter was tending to his injuries. While Peter’s hands trailing up and down his bare skin with the wet cloth, making his way up his torso and then his neck and then his jaw, Harley could no longer stop himself from pulling Peter by the collar and slamming his lips on his.

Peter was frozen, just for a moment, but he readjusted himself, legs straddling Harley’s waist, cupping his face with his cold hands. Harley ran his calloused fingers through Peter’s curls, tugging as he kissed him like his life depended on it. 

After getting a taste of Peter’s lips, Harley wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to let him go.

Bedtime routine turned to nightly rendezvous, daily dressing turned to morning makeouts. The two young men knew that their love was forbidden. In their Kingdom, men were allowed to lay with other men, but Peter was the lowest of the low class, and Harley? Well, he was going to be king, and Peter was not fit to ever take the crown.

Harley wrapped his toned arms around Peter’s waist as they laid in bed, out of breath and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Harley placed a tender kiss on Peter’s shoulder, whispering a passionate, “I love you.”

Peter rolled over and placed a longing kiss on his lips.  “I love you, too.”

They had a routine. Peter would wake before the sun had even begun to rise and rid of any evidence of their nightly endeavors, and prepare for his daily duties. He smiled softly at the snoring young man in bed, hair disheveled and a dribble of drool falling down his chin.

There was a knock at the door. Ned, another worker in the castle, greeted Peter with a smile. “The king has ordered that Harley be exceptionally presentable today. We have a guest.”

Peter nodded. “I will choose his finest clothes.”

“And how are you feeling this fine morning, Peter?” Ned asked.

“I feel rejuvenated as ever,” Peter replied with a lovesick grin.

“Ah yes, I am sure you are quite rejuvenated,” Ned teased.

Peter slapped his arm. “Ned!”

“Enjoy your morning with your prince.” He gave a quick wink before turning to leave. “I will see you in the commons!”

Peter shut the door silently and went to rummage through Harley’s closet, when he felt a strong pair of arms loop around his torso from behind, kisses peppered on his neck. “I see you’re awake,” Peter said, his legs like jelly with the feeling of Harley’s soft lips on his freckled skin.

“Missed you,” Harley murmured, his low voice vibrating against Peter’s skin.

“I can see that,” Peter said with a light chuckle.

“Don’t want to get ready just yet.”

“Your father has beckoned you this morning. Says you need to be exceptionally presentable for a guest.”

Harley groaned. “More forced smiles and feigned charisma to please the heads of other kingdoms, I’m sure.”

“You’re going to have to do a lot of that when you become king, you know. You have to continue to sustain the kingdom’s prosperity.”

“Bla bla, kingdom’s prosperity.” He turned Peter around. “What about my prosperity?”

Peter frowned. “You know that the kingdom will always come before you.”

“Well, what if I don’t want that? I didn’t ask to be the sole heir of the kingdom. I want to live, unconstrained by my father’s expectations. I want to live by the sea with you and have a garden and house a field of lancers.”

“By the sea?” Peter asked with a cocked brow.

“Yes. The horses would frolic in the sand.”

Peter let out a bubbly laugh. “You know I’d love that, but you know that we cannot have that.”

Harley's smile fell. “I know.”

Peter kissed him slowly on the lips. “Let’s get you ready. I picked out the black jacket with the gold trim. You just look so ravishing in it.”

“I know you only picked that because I wear it with the matching trousers and you like the way they fit.”

“Well, I can be a little selfish, can’t I?”

Harley smirked. “Then you must wear your grey trousers.” 

“Perhaps I may.”

 

Harley twisted the cuffs on his jacket nervously as he approached the great hall. “Good morrow, Father,” he greeted.

“And a good morrow to you, my son,” his father replied. “I have someone I wish for you to meet.”

“And I look to this meeting with enthusiasm, Father.”

The greying man led Harley to the banquet hall. “We will be dining with Sir Bradley Davis of the Midtown Kingdom.”

Harley plastered a smile. “I am eager to make his acquaintance.” 

A man with hair as black as night sat at the table, wearing a deep red jacket adorned with gold accessory. 

“It is a pleasure, Sir Harley,” he greeted with a bow.

“No, the pleasure is mine, Sir Bradley,” he replied with a bow.

Harley’s father sat at the head of the table. “Harley, I have brought you here today to announce an arrangement that will unite our kingdoms.”

Harley raised his eyebrows. “Are we connecting economically? A new trade agreement?”

He shook his head. “No. You two will be married in the fortnight.”

Harley stood, knocking his chair over. “ What?! ”

“Harley, please settle.”

“Father, you cannot just, you cannot, I am…”

“ Harley, ” he said firmer. “This is for the prosperity of our kingdoms.”

Prosperity. There’s that word again. The prosperity of the kingdom. The prosperity of the royal family. The prosperity of his father. But not of…'

“I apologize, Father.” He picked up his chair and sat back down.

“Sir Bradley will be lodging her at the castle so you may collaborate with the preparations for the wedding.”

Harley nodded in understanding.

“Please accompany him and show him to his room. He will be staying in the room beside yours. Perhaps you two may converse on your way there.” He stood. “You are dismissed.”

Harley fiddled with his fingers uncomfortably. “We have always had strong trade with Midtown.”

“Indeed, we have. Though, my role does not oversee the economics and finances. I am more involved with the culture and protection of the people.”

Harley nodded. “That is very noble of you.”

“And you are a knight as well. You must know noble, yourself,” he stated.

Harley nodded again. “That is true.”

There was an awkward lull in the conversation.

“You are more pulchritudinous than any painting can replicate,” he said, low and huskily.

“Sir Bradley…”

“Brad. Please.”

“Brad, I… I must admit. I am not one for this sort of… arrangement. I am quite weary to place my trust in a stranger such as yourself.”

“We will no longer be strangers in the fortnight,” Brad pointed out, inching closer to the blonde.

“Yes, for we will create a stronger bond and friendship to build our relationship upon. Isn’t that correct?”

Brad smiled, though his eyes twitched in annoyance. “Of course.”

Harley stopped walking. “This is where you will be staying. We may discuss the wedding plans after you settle in. I will be in my quarters until then.”

“Thank you,” Brad said.

Harley gave an odd nod before speed-walking to his room.

He slammed the door behind him, out of breath, frantically whisper-screaming, “Peter. Peter. Peter.”

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, scared.

“I’m getting married,” Harley said.

“This is quite a terrible proposal then,” Peter joked, continuing to fold Harley’s clothes.

“No. My father, he, he, he arranged a marriage with me and the heir to Midtown.”

Peter’s dropped the shirt he was holding. “He what?”

“We will be wed in the fortnight.”

Peter’s hand slapped over his mouth as he gasped. “But you… you can’t… we can’t…”

“I know, darling.”

Peter ran to the taller man, embracing him as he bit back tears. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me.” Harley pet his hair sweetly.

“It is equivalent to treason to be committing adultery with a married prince, let alone a married king,” Peter said with anxious exasperation.

“We… we can figure something out. We can run away together.”

“And betray your kingdom and leave them without an heir?” Peter asked incredulously. “I could never do such a thing. I would not be able to live with that burden on my conscience.”

Harley caressed his cheek, solemnly. “And I would never wish that upon you.”

“Harley, we musn’t continue this a moment longer.

Harley shook his head, chest tight. “No. You can’t mean that.”

“For this kingdom to continue its prosper, we may never be together. It is my duty to serve you, but more important, to serve this kingdom, and if that duty means that I,” his voice cracked, eyes welling with tears. “If that duty means that I must never be with you again, then that is what I must do.”

“Peter, please,” Harley went to grab Peter’s arm, but he pushed away.

“I will be resigning from my role as your manservant, and be putting my skills somewhere else in the castle.”

“Peter. Please.” He placed a hand on his cheek.

“I love you, Harley Keener. Forever and always.” He pulled him down for one last kiss, the taste of salt lingering on his lips.

As Peter exited the room, a heart-wrenching sob wracking through his body as he ran through the halls, he didn’t take notice to the dark haired man who stood on the other side of the door, with anger festering in his eyes.

To Peter’s dismay, he had been reassigned to be the manservant of Harley’s soon-to-be betrothed. Sir Bradley was demanding. He knew what he wanted and loved to make Peter do anything and everything for him.

Peter began to feel like Sir Bradley was purposefully creating bigger and bigger messes for him to clean up and sending him on pointless goose chases for things that he would no longer find interest in once they were retrieved. He liked the control he had over Peter and he liked abusing the power. Peter never realized how benevolent Harley was until his life was placed in the hands of someone as selfish as Sir Bradley.

It was on the third that something had changed drastically with Sir Bradley. He entered his quarters distraught, struggling to find the words. “Peter. Harley, he, he’s sick. He’s very sick.”

Peter’s felt the world stop. “What?”

“We believe his ailment can be cured with the alyatro root.”

“But that’s in the depths of Canterlotian Forest. Will you have time to…”

“The trip can be done, but I must stay with him while he recovers from his ailments. However, I need you to make the journey to get the alyatro root. It is imperative that you did this with the utmost haste. Harley’s life depends on it.”

Peter’s face paled. “I’ll do it. For Harley.” He grabbed his jacket and dashed out of the door. 

A satisfied smirk, Brad held back a laugh. Harley, coming from his room, approached the dark haired man, confusion evident in his face.

“Why was Peter in such a rush?”

“Said he had errands to run,” Brad said with a shrug. “Come. We have more preparations to attend to.”

Peter, panting and wheezing, knees weak from his manic sprint, collapsed on the forest ground, resting his back against a tree trunk. For the first time in the hectic week, Peter took a moment to cry. To mourn the loss of his love with Harley. To be enraged at his father for dooming their future. To curse Brad for entering his life. But especially, to feel the heart-wrenching pain of losing Harley for good.

“I have to find that root. I have to find that…” he winced as he stood, “root. I have to find that root.” He scoured the forest floor, nearly giving up until he finally spotted the speckled white root protruding from the ground. “Yes!” Peter got on his hands and knees, tugging weakly at the root.

From behind, a man in a red cape approached silently, casting a green mist around the young man before disappearing.

Peter gasped, unbearable pain coursing through his body. He screamed in agony as he felt his body split in two, his bones cracking and elongating, splitting into eight. His body burned, the prickles of thick fur pushing through his pores. He stared in horror with his new kaleidoscope vision, getting a terrifying glimpse of what he had become in the pond beside him. He would scream, but he no longer could.

 

The next morning, Brad knocked frantically on Harley’s bedroom door. Groggily, he trudged to the door, eyes crusted over. “Yes?”

“Peter has not returned from his journey into the forest.”

Suddenly very awake, Harley’s back straightened. “What?”

“He was going to fetch some alyatro root to provide us good fortune for our wedding, but it has gone throughout the night and he has not returned.”

“You don’t think…”

“I cannot be sure,” Brad interjected. “But we must search for him, for I fear the worst.”

After being equipped in their full knightly gear by Ned, Harley’s new manservant, Brad and Harley rode into the Canterlotian Forest, Harley’s dread growing stronger and stronger the deeper they went.

They halted when they spotted a young woman cowering by a pond and patch of alyatro root. 

“Young woman! Have you seen a frail, young man? His hair and eyes are a bright brown.”

“He saved me!” she stuttered.

“Please elaborate,” Harley commanded.

“There was this horrifying monster. A beast. A spider towering heads above me. The young man defended me,” she explained.

“Then where is he now?” Harley asked.

“He… he…” she looked, glazed eyed at the forest ground.

There, on the ground, tattered and torn, were Peter’s clothes. To no doubt did Harley know that they were Peter’s clothes, for there on the ground were his favorite grey trousers, ripped to shreds.

“Oh Lord,” Harley said, knees wobbly as he collapsed on the ground, clutching the fabric in his fingers.

“My condolences, My Liege,” she said softly.

Harley cried out in anguish. “No! It cannot be! He cannot… he mustn’t… I never got to…” A tear streamed down his cheek. “ No. ”

“I must return this young lady to her estate, Harley. Will you manage the venture back to the castle?”

“I need a moment,” Harley croaked.

“Very well. I will see you here.” As the two rode away, the young woman morphed back into her… his… true form. Brad smirked, turning back to the man in the red cape. “Well done, Mysterio. You will be paid graciously.”

Left behind, Harley sobbed over Peter’s clothes, now free of his armor so he could feel the fabric with his bare hand. “Why him? Why you? We should have… we could have had our house by the sea. I would have gotten us there.” He closed his eyes. “I love you.”

In a dark, damp, cave, Peter scuttered around the stone floor. His cries and shouts vibrating into a mere purr. In his mind, he repeated words of comfort, that Harley would find him. That their love is strong enough to see past the mask he wore. But, as the days turned to nights, his hope was dwindling.

Harley paced in his room, hands clenched into fists. “I must find that beast. I must rid that beast of its existence on this land at once.”

“My prince, you must rest,” Ned advised.

“How must I rest when I know that that creature is alive?!” Harley snapped.

“You cannot duel in the state you are in. For a fair fight, you must have all of your energy.” 

Harley softened.

“I will prepare your armor and sharpen your swords immediately. But, for now, you must rest.”

Harley nodded. “You are right. Thank you.”

“I will be back in the morning with a meal to ensure your greatest strength.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, rest.” Ned exited the room, approaching Sir Bradley’s room since there was no one reassigned to his care yet. He was about to knock on the door, when he overheard screaming from the other side of the door.

“You promised me three hundred denarius!” 

“I promised that you would get the payment once everything goes according to plan.”

“It did! It did go according to plan. Peter Parker has now been transformed into the spider beast and Harley will slay it in the morn.”

“But, until we wed in the sennight, I do not have the proper funds to pay you.”

“You did not have the money when you hired me?”

“No. I did not.”

“I should just place a curse on you! Then I would get my share.”

“No! Please! Just, tell me what to do to ensure that Peter Parker may never return, and Harley will marry me with no hesitation.”

There was a pause. “The only cure for my spell is a concoction of ground alyatro root and a hair from the victim of the curse, but one would have to retrieve that from the spider beast himself.”

“It is that simple?”

“Yes.”

 

Ned’s eyes went wide as he rushed out of the castle, body moving without thought. As he rushed to the stables, he stopped. “I don’t know how to ride a horse!” He shook his head. “Do it for Peter. Do it for Peter.”

Illuminated by the stars, Ned rode off into the Canterlotian Forest, searching for the alyatro root in hasty desperation. Thanking the Gods as he spotted the speckled root, he unsheathed his knife and cut the root quickly, throwing it into his satchel. 

Anxiety spiking, he rode slowly through the forest calling out, “Peter! Peter!” His horse suddenly threw him off, running away as they approached a tall dark cave. “Peter?” Ned asked wearily.

With hard, heavy footsteps, a towering spider approached Ned.

He gulped. “P-Peter? Is that you?”

The spider purred.

“Oh, good Lord. It is actually you.” He shook his head. “This is going to sound ludicrous, but you must believe me. Well, I suppose nothing can feel as farfetched as your current situation, but apparently, Sir Bradley had you cursed and Sir Harley will be trying to kill you in the morn but there is a cure and I just need some of your hair so if you don’t mind, I am just going to…” He grabbed his fur and tugged a few strands out. “My apologies, Peter. I will create a concoction to save you. I promise you.” He went to give him a hug, but shook his head. “Sorry. I will wait for that once you return to normal.”

Ned rode like the speed of light back to the castle, heart pounding in fear.

 

As Harley awoke, Ned was standing over his bed.

“Good Lord, Ned. You frightened me.”

“I did some research on this beast, and it seems to be of the enchanted variety,” Ned blurted out.

Harley frowned. “Enchanted? But that means…”

“It cannot be slain by sword. However, I did research, and its demise can be brought with this concoction of natural herbs will counteract its magic and return it back to… its original form.”

“I see. So it was originally a common spider before it was transformed?”

“...yes.” Ned said. “But we must hurry. Dawn is breaking and there is no time to waste. I have all of your armor prepared as well as your horse.”

“I must tell Sir Bradley of your discovery…”

“No!” Ned suddenly exclaimed. “Only the people who are using the herb and who prepared the herb must know of its power, or else it will lose its properties.”

Harley nodded. “That does make sense. Then we must be on our way.”

As the two neared the cave, Harley shakily grabbed the bottle from his satchel. “Foul beast! I have arrived to show you your demise!”

Peter looked to Ned fearfully. Ned shook his head reassuringly. Peter walked closer to Harley carefully.

Harley took a step back. “Do not advance, for I have this!” He held up the bottle.

“Hurry up,” Ned instructed. 

Harley raised an eyebrow. “Are you giving your superior orders?”

“I just uh mean because it is time sensitive.”

“Harley!” A voice called from behind.

Harley turned around. “Brad?”

“What are you waiting for? Slay the beast!” Brad commanded, running to Harley.

“I am about to,” Harley said, not mentioning the concoction.

“Then why do you not draw your sword?”

“ Hurry, ” Ned repeated.

Harley opened the bottle, splashing the liquid all over Peter.

He thrashed in agony as the pain returned.

“ NO!” Brad shouted. He drew his sword and stabbed Peter through the middle, his body rebuilding around the sword, his true form returning, but the sword impaled through his stomach.

Harley’s eyes went wide, a gasp escaping his lips. “Peter!” He turned to Brad with disgust. “You knew . You knew he was alive. You knew that he… that he…” He ran to Peter, cradling him in his arms.

“I’ve got you, my love. I’m here.”

“H-Harley,” Peter rasped. “I love you. I never wanted to leave you.”

“I know you didn’t. I know. Easy. Be still.”

“Perhaps in another life, we could be together. We could live by the sea and the kingdom would still… it would prosper as we ruled together.”

Harley shook his head, eyes wet. “You are going to be fine, Peter. You are going to be just fine. I promise you.”

“I love you,” Peter whispered. “I love you so much. I love you.”

“Ned. Ned! Please retrieve the medics.” When Ned didn’t move, Harley repeated, “Now!” 

Ned, with shaky legs, mounted his horse and rode away.

Harley looked to Brad with a tense jaw. “How could you?”

“He was an obstacle to our love.”

“No. There is no ‘our love.’ There will never be ‘our love.’ And if it was my choice, you would never see the light of day again.” He turned back to Peter. “But I would rather you rot in my dungeons for the rest of eternity.” He ran his fingers through Peter’s curls. “So you have two options. You turn yourself in and you and your kingdom will never get a penny from mine or you call off the wedding and we will continue our economic endeavors and I never see your face again.” He smiled sweetly at Brad. “You choose.”
Terror in his eyes, the man ran, leaves crunching beneath his feet.

“I thought that was very alluring of you. Makes me want to just take charge over me,” Peter joked weakly. “You are going to be an amazing king.”

“And I will find a way for you to rule with me.”

“Harley,” Peter said, resigned.

“We are going to reform the kingdom. You’ve always had the strongest ideas.”

“Harley.”

“We are going to close the gaps between the rich and the poor and make stronger relationships with the other kingdoms and have the strongest knights.”

“ Harley. ”

Harley looked down, tears still falling freely.

“You know I’m not going to make it.”

Harley bit his lip, nodding slowly. “I know. I know.”
“I love you,” Peter repeated.

“I love you so much.”

“I love…” Peter’s head limply rolled off of Harley’s lap.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Notes:

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