Chapter Text
Louis was not having a good day.
Oh, certainly, the whole kingdom was having a good day. The king had just announced that he was throwing a ball, as a welcome home ceremony for the prince that had just returned from galavanting across the world. They were officially calling it a ‘diplomatic voyage’ but from the rumours that Louis had heard about the prince, he was pretty sure that actually meant ‘travel around and fondle as many young women as he possibly could’. Still, everyone was excited about the ball. Every noble person, anyway. They all got an excuse to go and have a fine party, with the finest foods and dresses and music in the land. They would all be at the castle, and Louis would lose all his best clients.
Louis wasn’t ashamed of running brothels. They were just a means of making money, peddling desires just as much as a tavern or a seamstress did. He treated his girls well, and tried to make sure that his clients did the same. Even if some people looked down on him for running something that, well, tawdry, he didn’t care much. And even if it was tawdry, it kept his siblings fed, then there was nothing to be ashamed of. But Louis was ashamed of losing money, because everyone was far too busy getting ready to get debauched at the palace, then to get debauched at one of his many establishments.
So he was taking up some extra jobs, just to make sure that this wouldn’t hurt things much. He was always taking extra jobs, really. Carrying messages across town. Cleaning rooms. Anything, really, that meant money. It wasn’t that he was poor off, or anything, but- Well, he had two sisters who would need dowries, one day. Grace needed the dowry sooner rather than later, actually, because Louis had seen her and Levi get far too close for friends to be. And there was Paul, who couldn’t really care for himself more than a youngin’ like Claudia could. So, it was up to Louis, and what was left of their parents' money, to care for them. So, when the brothels couldn’t pay, it was odd jobs. Transporting stone. Helping out the butcher. Whatever he could take up.
At the moment, he had been moving some barrels of beer over to the palace, in trade for a few silver pieces.
Or he had been doing that, anyway. And then there had been a damn rock in the, one damn rock, which had spun out the wheel on his wagon, his borrowed wagon, and caused the whole thing to come to a stop in the road. And Louis didn’t know nothing about fixing a wagon. Or about calming horses, which were getting spooked the more that they were standing there, in the road, not moving because the damn wheel just was not turning right no matter how much Louis kicked at it. And, trust him, he had kicked at it a lot. He had almost made it to the castle, too, damn him.
So, yeah, it was not exactly the finest day to be Louis de Point du Lac.
And that was when the man appeared.
“And what have we here?” The man asked. He was- well, he was unfairly handsome, for one. With long blonde hair, and a stupidly charming smile, expertly sewn clothes, and an expensive saddle on an expensive horse.
“Nothing,” Louis said, more on instinct than anything else.
“So you are standing here in the middle of the road on purpose, then?” The man asked. He was still smiling, damn him.
“Obviously,” Louis said. He kicked the wheel one more time, just to see if it would do anything. “The damn wagon broke.”
“I can see that,” the man said. “What was your plan to remedy that, then?”
Louis made a face. He hadn’t exactly made it as far as making a plan. “Kick the wheel some more.”
“Ah,” the man said, with a bright laugh. It was unfairly nice, for a laugh. “I do not think that constitutes as a plan, mon cher.”
“Not yours,” Louis said, unhelpfully. “If you’ve got a better plan, though, I’ll take that.”
“I could help you bring the barrels to wherever they are going,” the man offered. “Where are they going?”
“The palace,” Louis said, before the rest of what the man had said caught up to him. “But I don’t need your help with it. And besides, if we leave, then someone’ll just steal it.”
“No one will steal it,” the man said, as though he was completely sure of that fact.
Louis scoffed. “Anyone will steal anything,” he said.
“And how do you know that?” The man asked. He looked amused, as though they weren’t standing on the road with a broken damn cart.
“Because that’s how the world works,” Louis said.
“And what do you know of the world?” The man asked. “I know more of the world than you do. I have seen more of the world than you ever will.”
Louis laughed at that. “That it, then?” He asked. “You a travelling merchant? Come back to France, after years abroad learning ‘bout the world.”
“Something like that,” the man said.
“Whatever,” Louis said. “I’ve spent more time in this damn country than you have. In this region. And if we leave these barrel out here, they’ll be gone before we even reach the castle. And the horses. And the broken cart.”
“Fine, then,” the man said, as though Louis was the one being stubborn between the two of them. “Then I will ride to the castle, and procure you a new cart.”
“Yeah, right,” Louis said. “They’re not even going to let you in.”
“My father is a very powerful man,” the man said, as he prepared his horse to move again. “ I am a very powerful man,” he corrected.
“Sure you are,” Louis said, unconvinced.
“I will be back with a new cart,” the man said. “Do not go anywhere.”
Louis laughed. “Where the hell would I go?”
And then, he was alone.
Louis was finally able to think, without the annoying handsome stranger beside him. Even though all of his thoughts were now only of the handsome stranger. He would have been worrying about the broken cart, except he didn’t have to worry about that because of the handsome stranger. He would have been worrying about how he was going to transport the beer now, except he didn’t have to worry about that because of the handsome stranger. He would have been worrying about all the money he would have lost if he failed to deliver the beer, except he didn’t have to, all because of the handsome stranger. Every worry he could have had was assuaged, all because of this man.
So really, it was understandable that all of his thoughts went back to the stranger. He had helped Louis. He had solved all of Louis’ current problems. The man had shown up on a terrible day of Louis’ life, a life already filled with terrible days, and had helped. He had offered kindness, when he was clearly much higher class than Louis could ever dream of being. He had offered help, when the man really looked like he had never worked a day in his life, let alone work to help others. He had solved things, or at least offered to solve things, and Louis somehow doubted he was going to leave Louis here and just not come back. He hadn’t even taken a barrel of beer, or anything. It was just- it was selfless, really, even though the man had been incredibly arrogant the entire time.
Besides, the man really was handsome. Like, unfairly handsome. Handsome in a way that Louis had never really seen before. Handsome in a way that Louis simply could not describe. But if he had to describe it, if he was simply forced to describe it, maybe Louis could actually describe the man’s beauty. He was- he was as beautiful as the sunset looked, on the roof of his family home. He was as beautiful as the crackling fire, when it was winter and it was the only thing keeping his family warm. He was as beautiful as the flowers that Louis lay on his parents graves.
And then, the man was back. With a cart. And new horses. And several servants to help carry the barrels onto the new cart.
“How the hell did you manage that?” Louis asked. He felt like his eyes were bulging out of his head. How the hell had he managed that?
“I told you,” the man said. “I am a very powerful man.”
“Sure you are,” Louis said, even though he was slightly more convinced, now.
“Come,” the man said. “You will ride with us to the castle.”
“I ain’t driving the cart?” Louis asked, face scrunching up.
“Nonsense,” the man said. “You have already been inconvenienced enough. You can ride, yes?”
“Yeah,” Louis said, slowly.
“Then you shall ride your horse next to mine,” the man declared, pointing to the horse attached to the broken cart. “I brought you a saddle.”
Louis blinked. He had never used a saddle. “I ride better without one,” is what he wound up saying, rather than saying he never met a rich bastard with a saddle before.
“As you wish,” the man said. “But you will ride beside me?”
“Sure,” Louis said, as he unhitched the horse, and mounted it. How could he say no to that?
It was like a damn dream, really. He didn’t need to worry about the cart. He didn’t even need to worry about moving the barrels from the old cart to the new cart, because this stranger had just found people for that. People from the palace, he was almost certain. The man must have had influence, Louis was sure of that. The man did nothing to help them, and he insisted that Louis did nothing either. He didn’t even need to drive the cart, which he hated doing, or deal with the horses or anything. He just needed to ride.
They started moving forward. Louis couldn’t even hide his smile. He really did like riding horses. He never had the chance to ride them for fun, any more. He and Paul used to, when they were kids. They claimed that they were learning, but everyone knew that they had mastered the horses and were just having fun. But they were kids, they could afford to have fun. Not so much, any more. Fun wasn’t something Louis really got anymore. And yet, here Louis was, riding this horse next to a handsome stranger and not having to worry about anything for a while.
And, Louis thought, it was even easy to pretend, riding next to this stranger, with servants and a cart behind them, that he was the rich one. That these were his servants, his cart, his horses. That he was riding without a saddle because he wanted to, and not because he had never had the chance to learn how to ride with one before. That he was riding a horse at all because he wanted to, and not because he had had a job to do. That this man riding beside him was an equal, and not someone far above him. He wasn’t, of course, and he never would be. He could make money, he could go up in the world, but never like this. But he could imagine, for a moment, that he was.
But only for a moment.
“How am I meant to repay you for this, then?” Louis asked, breaking the silence. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to. He didn’t need any more debts.
“You owe me nothing,” the man said, solemnly. “In fact, you should keep the cart, to replace your faulty one.”
“That ain’t my cart,” Louis said. “I was running the trip for somebody else.”
“Then they may keep the cart,” the man said, with a shrug. “And I shall find some way else to repay you for your inconvenience.”
“ My inconvenience?” Louis said. “You’re the one who’s going out of your way to help me.”
“You were inconvenienced by the road,” the man said. “You should be compensated.”
“And the rock breaking my cart is your fault?” Louis asked.
“Yes,” the man said. “Besides, I would compensate you anyway. You have been wonderful company.”
“All I’ve done is complain,” Louis said. “I ain’t even know your name.”
The man smiled. “Exactly,” he said, which cleared up absolutely nothing at all. “So, how can I repay you?”
“Tell me your name?” Louis asked. Because really, he had only just noticed that he didn’t know the man’s name. It almost felt like they had always known each other.
“No,” the man said, smiling. It was a damn infuriating smile. Beautiful, but infuriating. “Not that.”
“Then I ain’t got no clue,” Louis said. “You’ve helped me enough today, I think.”
“You don’t want anything?” The man asked, confused.
“Nah,” Louis said. And then, daringly, he voiced a thought that definitely should have stayed inside his damn head. “Except for the chance to see you again.”
The man grinned. “I can help you with that, then. Will you be going to the ball?”
“You think the people delivering the beer for the ball are the same people that are going?” Louis asked.
“Non,” the man said. “I suppose not.”
“Then there’s your answer,” Louis said.
“But you could,” the man said. “I have an extra invitation.”
Louis laughed.
“I am not joking,” the man said.
“People like me don’t go to balls,” Louis said.
The man shrugged. “You said you wish to see me again.”
“And I do,” Louis admitted.
“Then you will go,” the man said. He slowed his horse, and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Take it.”
“I ain’t taking your invitation,” Louis said.
“I will be there,” the man said. “And you will come and see me.”
“You sound certain of that,” Louis said, shaking his head.
“Come,” the man said. “If not for me, then to enjoy yourself. I hear the beer will be quite good.”
Louis laughed at that, actually laughed. “Maybe I will,” he said. Even though he knew he wouldn’t, actually. People like him didn’t go to dances.
“Good,” the man said.
And then, far too soon, they were outside the castle.
“They will bring the beer inside,” the man said, gesturing to the servants in the carts. “You need not worry about this. Except, of course, for the cart, which you may do what you wish with.”
“Right,” Louis said, slowly. It was all sort of sinking in. “Thank you.”
“Of course, mon cher,” the man said.
“Still not your cher,” Louis replied, even if he was smiling.
The man didn’t seem phased. “You will come, then? I will see you again?”
“Maybe,” Louis said, because that was all he could allow himself. “Maybe.”
And then he was alone. Again.
The cart was cleared out in record time, and some of the servants even hooked up the horse that Louis was still sitting on to it. Louis would have done it himself. It was- it was odd, watching someone else do it for him. He had never had something done for him since he was old enough to put his own trousers on. And yet, as soon as he met this stranger, Louis had barely had to lift a finger. It was- it was jarring, to say the least. It was terrifying. It was something Louis longed to get used to. It was something that Louis knew he could get used to, if it ever happened again.
But he couldn’t get used to that. It was just a one time thing. A flash of good luck. A fluke. Louis wasn’t the kind of person that people did things for. He did things for himself. He did things for others. But others didn’t do things for him. That was simply how it worked. He served his family. He served his community. He served anyone who would pay him, and then he made money off the women who served even more people in his brothels. That was just how life worked, with Louis. He served, and he worked, and he took, but no one ever served him.
He drove the cart back. He had to get paid for doing this job. He had to explain, or maybe not explain, about the new cart. Getting paid was the important part, though. That was always the important part. Getting paid. Getting money to be able to help his family, to have dowries for Grace and Claudia, for food for all of them, for Paul’s treatment. That was all that mattered. Even if- even if Louis had just gotten a glimpse at something that he knew he would never get again, he couldn’t let himself care about that. He couldn’t. And he certainly couldn’t care about the invitation sitting in his pocket. All he could care about was taking care of his family. That was all he was allowed to care about.
Louis made it back to the village, away from the castle and all the crazy rich fucks, and he didn’t know what to do.
He gave the new, stupidly nice, cart back to the man who had paid him to deliver the beer. He didn’t explain, and the man didn’t dare ask. But he gave him a few more silver, anyway, which was nice. He patted his jacket just to make sure that he still had the invitation in his pocket. He stopped by some of his brothels, even if it was too early for there to be any problems. He checked his pocket again. He thought about picking up another small job, maybe running some stuff across town. He decided against it. He checked his pocket one more time, instead. He stopped by the market, using the extra silver to buy some produce they didn’t normally get to have. He patted his pocket again. He walked home, whistling all the way.
Louis was having a pretty good day, all things considered.