Work Text:
Life had been anything but simple since Sirs Radzig and Hanush had asked him to find their respective wards but now his mission was complete, Father Godwin was happy to just unwind and take things easy at the Devil’s Den. It was touch and go for a while but the lord of Pirkstein and his page were safe and well and everyone was content to enjoy the good life until the next bloody battle. The ale and wine flowed and there was always pleasant company, dice to throw and bath wenches just a short trip across the field. He was relaxing on one of the outside benches with a cool tankard of ale, watching people bustle past.
"Father Godwin. May I have a moment?"
The priest peered up at the pensive looking young lord Capon, smiling politely, “Sir Hans. What can I do for you?”
It wasn’t a secret to him that Sir Hans had been struggling since his captivity in Maleshov; he was used to his freedom and spontaneous lifestyle which had all been taken away from him. Henry had been doing his best to lift his spirits to varying degrees of success. They couldn’t go all that far for fear of losing him again. Hans took a seat on the bench opposite him, shifting restlessly.
“I don’t know you very well,” he began, drumming his fingers on the table for want of anything better to do, “but Henry seems to hold you in high esteem and I trust his judgement.”
“In that case, I don’t know who’s more the fool, you or him,” Godwin said with a lighthearted laugh, raising his tankard, “but thank you.”
Hans nodded, distractedly. He briefly glanced around, making sure they couldn’t be overheard. They were alone, of course, with only the innkeeper nearby scrubbing tables. Still, he lowered his voice, “I suppose I’m here to confess. I just don’t know where to begin.”
“Lord Capon, a man of your age and station should be enjoying his life whilst he can,” Godwin reassured, swigging from his tankard, “not wasting time worrying about grave sins. That can come later. If it has to.”
“Even if…” the young lord hesitated, thinking carefully. Fuck it, he didn’t have many people he could rely on and Godwin may be a man of the church but he was hardly a saint himself. He could be trusted. He took a deep breath, “I think I am in love with another man.”
Godwin laughed, shaking his head, “son, I’ve heard worse things than that just visiting the baker. Come back to me when you’ve done something about it.”
Hans hadn't quite expected that response. He didn't know what to say but he couldn't help but smile, pointing shrewdly at the priest, "I can see why Henry likes you so much."
Godwin watched as he rose from the bench and casually sauntered off, meeting Henry on his way; the two men greeted each other warmly and headed off towards the combat arena. Godwin continued watching as they playfully bickered whilst gazing at each other like they were the only two in the world. Godwin found himself smiling warmly.
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“What were you expecting?”
Godwin hadn’t gotten very far since Hans had left, what with Henry immediately bounding towards him after their duelling bout. He was sweaty, bloodied and breathless and not from the fight, the priest suspected. He was certainly more worked up then Godwin had ever seen him. Henry chugged an ale, wiping his mouth.
“I dunno. Maybe ‘you’re going to hell forever’, ‘no one can ever forgive such an act’, ‘you don’t deserve to call yourself a Christian.’”
Godwin stared at him in silence for the longest time. He really wasn’t drunk enough for this. Eventually, he spoke slowly as though talking to an infant or someone rather slow, “all that because you think Sir Hans has nice arms?”
Henry blinked at him and Godwin could almost see the cogs whirring in his brain. It did seem like a harsh punishment for something quite innocent. What was so wrong about that anyway? Then again, there was everything else as well. He scratched at the stubble on his chin, thinking aloud.
“Well, not just his arms. His hair looks good. And his legs. His back. And arse…”
Godwin resisted the urge to roll his eyes not that he could blame either of them; he remembered all too well what it was like to be young and free. For God’s sake, he was still like it now at his age. He fixed Henry with a knowing stare.
“Can’t be a sin if it’s all true, right?”
“You might be right, Father,” Henry agreed, already feeling better than he had done. Hans was a very competent archer and combatant; it was only natural to admire his form. Godwin grinned, relieved to finally have the discussion over.
“Of course I am.”
It had been wishful thinking for Godwin to think he’d seen the last of the two of them. Several hours had passed admittedly when he next saw Sir Hans, sitting at a bench in the furthest corner of the Inn. The young lord was resting his head in his hands, grinning idiotically to himself. Sensing where this was headed, Godwin attempted to exit through the door he’d just come through. No such luck.
“No so fast, Godwin.”
The priest groaned, ordering several beers from the maid on his way; he had a feeling he’d need them. He reluctantly sat opposite the lord, taking a deep breath, “even the good lord takes a some time off now and again, son.”
“I thought you might be interested to know,” Hans started happily, disregarding Godwin and the five beer tankards that arrived at the table, “I told the man, Henry,” he clarified as if Godwin wouldn’t have figured it out even if Henry hadn't been coming to him with the exact same problem. He gulped down one ale, “about my feelings for him.”
“Ah,” was all Godwin said, already starting on his second ale. Hans didn’t seem to notice or even care that much, so lost was he in his story. He was still smiling, lost in his thoughts.
“It went…well,” he glanced up, noticing Godwin was watching him with a blank expression on his face. He cleared his throat, continuing, “we went into the woods to wash up by the stream. One thing led to another and…” he lowered his voice to a whisper leaning forwards, “we entered the service of Venus,” Godwin didn’t say anything, but he narrowed his eyes as he reached for the third ale. Hans carried on, somewhat annoyed, “you know, I gave him a green gown…” Godwin frowned, then, lowering his tankard. Hans sighed, speaking through gritted teeth, “I shagged him!”
After a short pause, Godwin replied in confusion, “why didn’t you just say that?”
“Well, just trying to soften the blow a bit,” Hans shrugged, looking rather sheepish. Godwin chuckled heartily, handing the fourth ale to Hans whilst he sipped on the fifth.
“When I said ‘come back to me when you’ve done something about it’, it wasn’t intended as a challenge.”
“It was fucking fantastic,” Hans sighed dreamily, lost in his own little world again. Ah, young love, Godwin thought. It was almost sweet, he only wished they had someone else they could trust as much as him. And, of course, Hans was still Hans, “Henry really knows his way around a sword, if you know what I mean. That new beard of his is going to take some getting used to though, not that I’m complaining but my thighs -”
“Sir Hans?” Godwin interrupted the young lord’s horny ramblings, snapping him out of his audible thinking. He looked up questioningly and Godwin shook his head, “fuck off.”
“What, no penance?” Hans said, distracted by watching Henry walk past the window; punishing the man for speaking out of turn would have to wait. He was already on his feet when Godwin answered, tired.
“Is there any point?”
“Probably not,” Hans quickly answered as he hurried off, feigning nonchalance as he bumped into Henry, throwing an arm around his shoulder. Godwin shook his head affectionately. He had to admit he was growing fond of the nobleman, even if he was a pain in the arse.
The former priest was awoken from his drunken snooze by someone shaking him persistently; he was so used to this happening he tried to bat the pest away, rolling over in his sleep. The annoyance continued, shaking him even more.
“Father Godwin. I need your advice.”
“Henry,” Godwin groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. Ugh, the hangover. It was still dark outside and Henry was illuminated by torchlight, not that he could make him out thanks to his blurred vision.
“I’ve lain with Hans. And I-”
“Let me guess,” Godwin interrupted, annoyed at both Henry and himself. His head really was throbbing and he fought the urge to be sick, “‘you committed a grave sin’, ‘it’s not right’, ‘how could I do such a thing?’ You didn’t. Did you force him to do it?”
He could barely make out the appalled expression on Henry’s face, “what? No! Of course not! I just-”
“Do you enjoy yourselves?” Godwin asked with a yawn, rolling into his back in an attempt to stop the room from spinning. Henry nodded enthusiastically, a hint of desperation in his tone.
“Yes, but-”
“Then fuck everything else,” Godwin said a little too loudly, waving a hand dismissively, “you’re in love! No matter who it’s with, how can that be sinful.”
Henry shifted uncomfortably from his crouched position, shaking his head, “that’s all well and good, Father, but I was going to ask if you could teach me something really dirty in Latin so I can try it out on Hans.”
Godwin seemed to sober up immediately. He lifted his head and blinked at Henry, giving a single sleepy shrug, “sure.”
Wine. The best hangover cure, in Godwin’s opinion. Not that he’d have refused ale either but the wine at the Den was rather good and he’d had a long night. It was midday and he was enjoying the sound of the rain outside whilst most people had fled for shelter inside. He was on his second wineskin when he spotted Hans jogging from the direction of the bathhouse, keen to get out of the rain.
“I had sex with Henry again,” he said casually when he finally joined him, as if there was nothing to be done about it. He had to do it. Godwin just smirked, gulping some more wine.
“Did you like the Latin?” Hans gave him a look that suggested he very much enjoyed the naughty phrases he had taught Henry. Godwin laughed, reaching over to smack his shoulder, “you’re welcome.”
“When did I become such a bore?” Hans mused, tracing the indents in the wood with a finger, “gone are the days a mere wench could turn my head. Well, not entirely I am still human but my every waking thought is consumed by Henry,” the lord ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “I feel I cannot breathe unless I am in his presence…”
Godwin smiled sympathetically, raising his wine in a mock toast, “that’s love for you, Lord Capon.”
“I know,” Hans laughed incredulously, shaking his head, “God when did that happen?”
"If I were to hazard a guess, probably that ill-fated hunting trip I’ve heard so much about,” Godwin stated with a knowing smirk. Hans sighed dreamily, a far off look in his eye.
“Aye. He was very dashing.”
Godwin would just have to take his word for it.
“Listen, listen Henry,” Godwin slurred, leaning heavily on the blacksmith turned page, squinting as he tried to get him to stand still, “we- we should drink. To young love!” He practically shouted, raising his hand and sloshing ale everywhere, “in- in all it’s different shapes and- and sizes.”
Henry blushed, smiling awkwardly as various people looked over in their direction. He hoped they weren’t getting the wrong idea. Well, maybe the right idea but definitely the wrong person, “I appreciate it, Father. Um, Hans is waiting for me…”
“And don’t worry!” Godwin shook his head enthusiastically, nearly falling over. Henry steadied him with a arm on his elbow, “about the frequency of your ‘meetings’,” he winked pointedly, nudging Henry's ribs in case he didn’t get it the first time, “I can tell you with certainty, it matters not to God which hole you shove your pizzle into. A body is a body, a hole is a fucking hole, right?”
“I get it,” Henry grimaced, shrugging out of Godwin’s vice-like grip, leaving the drunk priest with Zizka and Katherine so he could head for the kitchen. Honestly, he’d only left his room to get a pitcher of wine.
The painkiller brew he’d purchased from the bathhouse wasn’t working fast enough for his liking but at least Godwin could now stand up without throwing up. He slumped at one of the benches at the bathhouse, resting his head on the hard wood. He closed his eyes only opening them again when he found his sunlight was blocked. Of course, the banes of his existence stood before him, the posh one looking smug, the common one looking concerned. He sighed, lifting his head from the bench with great effort.
“Fuck, don’t tell me one of you is with child.”
“Look, Henry,” Hans laughed forcefully, nudging Henry playfully, “a jester as well as a priest.”
Henry smiled, folding his arms, “we actually wanted to thank you.”
“You two know I'm not a priest anymore, right?” Godwin muttered hoarsely, rubbing a hand over his face in an attempt to sober up. It didn't work, “what I think means shit.”
Henry nodded slowly, reaching into his pocket and removing a small but full bag of what was quite obviously coin, “you don’t want this, then?”
Godwin looked at the bag then back up at his friends, frowning, “I’m not going to say anything if that’s what you think.”
“We know that,” Henry reassured, glancing at his partner. Hans nodded encouragingly so Henry shrugged, “it’s…indulgence.”
“Booze money,” Hans chimed in, knowing the way to Godwin’s heart. Still he decided to cheekily add, “I mean, you can call it a fuck tax if you want but…”
“You’ve committed no sin, my friends," Godwin started but, as he saw his friends reach for the bag, quickly snatched it and cleared his throat, "but if you insist,“ he cracked his fingers, blessing the two of them there and then, “the church thanks you,” he weighed the bag of coin in his hands, impressed by it's heaviness. He gave the two of them a curious look, “there’s enough in here for a month’s worth of sin.”
“We wanted to get a head start,” Hans said unapologetically, draping an arm around Henry's shoulders and placing one of his hands on his chest, “speaking of which, we’re going hunting and we plan to get our money's worth.”
Henry nodded, reaching up to entwine his fingers through Hans', "it would be beneficial if no one comes looking for us. For at least several hours."
Godwin rolled his eyes but he wasn't about to let them down now, “understood.”
Henry and Hans left him to it, then, setting off towards the forest with their hunting gear as cover; it was obvious to Godwin how desperate for privacy, the two of them constantly glancing over at each other and grinning. Hell, if he was going to get regular booze money they could go hunting every day for all he cared. He pocketed the coin and headed towards the Inn, feeling very pleased with the outcome of his advice.