Work Text:
Richard rolled over onto his side and lazily opened his eyes, showing the world his two-colored irises. His eyes were still a little sleepy and he looked at the floor, staring at the large piece of old royal clothing he had spent half the night with his beloved. The velvet material was nothing like the majestic cloak it once was, and the purple color had long since faded from frequent washing, now taking on a slightly grayish hue. On the wooden panels, next to the fabric, stood two gilded bowls; one still half full of malmsey, which they drank first from their bowls, then from their lips the night before.
Rays of sunlight streamed into the room, shining through thin curtains, and the sounds of thrushes and robins resounded as the most beautiful melody, accompanying the fading church bells in the distance, thus announcing the early morning.
Raven-haired man stretched his arms and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand before pushing himself up into a half-sitting position. He glanced once more at the velvet cloth and the glass of undrunk alcohol, smiling gently at the memory of an evening full of smiles, blushes and gentle touches.
''Oh, you’re not sleeping?'' a familiar voice asked, sounding more beautiful than the morning song of the skylarks in early spring.
Richard turned his gaze to the person who gracefully stepped over the threshold. His beloved, Henry, carried a wooden tray and walked forward with confidence. With each step he took, the wooden rosary that hung from his belt struck and rattled against his thigh.
''Good morning,'' Richard greeted. His voice was soft, the morning hoarseness still present, so he cleared his throat. ''I thought you were still in church.''
He lifted his head up, allowing the other man to lean over the bed and bring their lips together for a split second. That brief moment was enough for his fragile body to be wrapped in a thick blanket of warmth, and his heart to heat up and begin to swell with the emotions stored within it. The corners of his mouth lifted into a soft smile as he leaned back, avoiding another kiss.
He blinked, studying the man carefully—his hair, once golden, now streaked with white, his single blue eye that turned all its gentleness toward Richard, reflecting his silhouette in its surface like a lake, and the scar that framed the left side of his handsome face. Henry had once told him that he was an angel to him, but now Richard had no reason not to think it was the other way around. For him, the former King was a divine messenger, light, blessing and salvation. He was like sweet honey, the most beautiful rose and the warm fire he longed for on winter days. For him, he finally abandoned the paradise he could only experience wearing a diamond-studded crown, all his wealth and names that did not simply identify him as ''Richard''. And he would do it again without a second thought.
''I went to pray as soon as I woke up,'' Henry replied calmly. He placed the tray of food next to Richard, then knelt down by the bed, resting his head on his shoulder and reaching forward to idly run a finger through his raven-black hair. ''I thought I'd surprise you with breakfast today.''
''That's nice,'' Richard said, looking at the bowl of food prepared for him. An even wider, loving smile appeared on his face. The smell of fresh legumin and cinnamon reached his nostrils, and the large fruits, cut in half and placed on top of the dish, simply encouraged him to eat it. ''Did you go to the forest so early to pick them?''
''I was just walking back from church though the area and when I saw a strawberry bush I couldn’t resist and picked them,'' Henry answered. He lowered his hand, running it over Richard's cheek, neck, and shoulder, then grabbed his hand tightly. ''They grow nearby, so next time we can go there together.''
He moved his free hand and grabbed one of the strawberries with two fingers and held it to Richard's face. Richard, without thinking, opened his mouth and allowed to be fed with one sweet fruit. He didn't flinch as his rosy lips brushed the tip of the finger that had once curled around the axe and sent human souls to the afterlife. He himself had done no good at that time, so all the sins and crimes of James Tyrrell did not deter him in the slightest.
''Delicious,'' Richard commented, as the strawberry melted on his tongue. He grinned as he saw Henry grab another strawberry. He looked at him with eyes filled with warm feeling of love, as well as sparks of playfulness. ''Thank you very much, Henry.''
''No need to thank me, Richard.'' Henry tilted his head calmly, his face lighting with joy, forcing the corners of his mouth to curve up in a smile.
Richard nodded, then leaned forward a little to eat another bite of strawberries.
Henry had once said that he only had nightmares under the royal canopy, and he was right. It was much better to sleep in their small but cozy cottage or under the open sky, but Richard preferred reality much more to any dream.