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Peaceful and quiet.
Two words that anyone from the Kuttenberg region would tell you do not apply to the notorious Devil's Den.
It was a hub of depravity, where scoundrels and the very worst of society came to indulge and trade. Customers danced, drank and fought well into the odd hours of the night on a daily basis.
For peace and quiet, you would have to search somewhere else.
Henry knew this to be true firsthand; however, miracles apparently could still happen because as the young blacksmith rode closer to his home away from home, nothing but the sound of owls could be heard.
Henry had been away for almost two weeks.
A short trip to Kuttenberg to help out Menhart and Chenyek turned out much longer than intended. He ended up running all over town, the surrounding villages, and Sigismund's camp, fighting what felt like every bandit in Bohemia.
Henry had trouble getting rest as it was, but it was worse while on a mission, so he had been relying on potions to keep him up for the past few days. His body desperately needed a long, uninterrupted sleep now, so finding the Den to be so calm was actually a pleasant surprise.
As much as Henry had grown to care about the members of the Devil's Pack, they were a lot to handle on the best of days. He couldn't guarantee anything if one of them were to drunkenly start something now.
The only person he looked forward to seeing was Hans. Henry hated being separated from him. What if something were to happen, and he was miles away? Hans always tried to ease his worries, kissing him gently and telling him that he could take care of himself.
Despite knowing that it didn't help soothe his internal unease, now he was just glad to return to his lord's arms.
He put Pebbles into the stable with a few cabbages to munch on and petted Mutt goodnight before heading into the darkened Den.
All except the most necessary torches had been put out, and the only noises that rang through the halls were that of the fireplace and the sound of someone snoring upstairs.
In the small kitchen, he could see a pot simmering on the stove, and as if on command, his stomach howled.
A quick bite to eat before bed would do no harm.
Walking over to the pot, he was just about to put a spoon of stew into his mouth when-
"Ah, you are finally back, Bruder."
Henry whipped his head around, one hand shooting to his sword hilt before jumping back with a start.
In the doorway stood Samuel, dressed as he always was but with paper and writing supplies under his arm. He looked as tired as Henry felt, his skin pale in the torchlight, and purple eyebags adorned his face. A strong breeze could probably knock him down right now.
The blacksmith relaxed and let his arms drop to his side, a small huff of a laugh leaving him. He must have been exhausted if he didn't notice someone walking up on him like that, or his brother just moved as swiftly and quietly as a mouse.
Most likely both.
"You should be careful approaching someone from behind like that unless you fancy being skewered."
The corner of the older man's mouth twitched upwards in amusement.
"I'll keep that in mind for the future," Sam said, a little humour bleeding into his tone despite his stoic expression. "I was just writing some letters when I heard someone come in and wanted to look," he said before going silent.
They stared at each other momentarily, unsure what to say or do now.
Despite the brotherly bond that grew between them overnight, they hadn't known each other for all that long—roughly two months now—and had only talked a handful of times before Sam came to live in the Den after the attack on his quarter.
Conversation flowed fluidly when the others were around; they joked and told all kinds of anecdotes. Now, just the two of them, brothers who knew nothing about each other, it was a bit…awkward.
How do you talk to someone when there is so much baggage between you?
So much you should tell each other, so much you want to say but don't have the right words for...
"You know it's pretty late, Sam. I should get a bit of sleep. I'm sure Zizka will have more than enough work in the morning." Henry moved toward the door and tried to hastily excuse himself. The awkwardness of the situation became too much for his sleep-deprived self. Maybe they could finally talk when he wasn't feeling this close to passing out.
"Didn't you want to eat something?" Samuel asked, his head cocked to the side in confusion, "If you want, we could eat together. I've not had a proper meal today. Perhaps we could chat a bit."
Well, so much for that.
Henry was struck dumb by the offer. His sleep-addled mind took a moment to gather his thoughts before his stomach answered with a loud grumbling.
"Sure, why not."
They grabbed a bowl and took something from the stew before taking a seat and digging in. It felt so good to eat something warm again. All he had eaten in these last two days was some stale bread and a bit of deer meat that definitely wasn't good anymore.
And for as dirt and dingy as the Den could be, the food was surprisingly good.
"So, did everything go well on your trip?" Sam asked politely, not taking his eyes off the bowl before him.
Henry let out a laugh. "More or less," his brother raised a questioning brow, and he elaborated. "It's just the usual, you know. I wanted to help a few friends and ran around almost the whole region for this and that while fighting bandits."
Samuel chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "I think you are the only person I know who would call something like that 'usual'. Though, at this point, that should not surprise me anymore; after all, you are quite the unusual man yourself."
Now it was Henry's turn to glance at his brother in confusion, a quizzical look on his face that had Samuel halt for a moment and consider his word choice before continuing.
"I truly do not mean that in a bad way, Bruder. I'm sorry if that is what it sounded like. However, how you do things and the lengths you go to help practical strangers without expecting something in return are unique. I've never met someone so…noble before." His voice hesitated at the end.
Henry could feel his blood rushing to his cheeks, and he had to look away, a nervous hand running over the back of his neck. He could never take a compliment or praise well. It always made him feel like a bug someone was observing a bit too closely.
"I was just trying to help. Nothing special about that."
Henry took another spoonful while purposefully avoiding eye contact. Sam kept staring at him, oblivious to his flustered behaviour, and continued to speak.
"I would disagree. I mean, you've only been in this part of the country for a short time, and already the people are singing your praise as if you were one of those saints of yours. But- "
Samuel stopped himself.
He rested his head in his hands, which were propped up on the table, and looked contemplatively at the wood, clearly searching for the right words this time. That gave Henry the perfect opportunity to truly study his brother up close in detail for the first time without someone or something needing his attention.
At first, he had failed to see his Pa in Samuel.
That wasn't strange, considering that everyone had always told him how much he resembled his mother growing up, something that his parents must have been very glad for. But now that he was looking, Henry could see subtle ways in which they resembled each other. They had a similar shade of dark, dirty blond hair, strong brows, and deep-set eyes…
The resemblance came through more than just their looks, though.
Sam had the same small, crooked smile that had so often danced on his Pa's face. His eyes even creased in the same places as Martins's did. They both had that calm, stoic nature and dry sense of humour. Both were blunt and honest but not unkind unless someone deserved it. They were both loyal and protective of the people they loved.
His heart gave a bittersweet squeeze as he thought about their similarities.
His Pa may be dead, but some of him still lives on.
Henry wondered if Samuel ever did the same, wondering how similar he was to his Pa.
Perhaps that was why his brother was so interested in getting a glimpse of how his mind worked. They were not related by blood. Sam would never have to ask himself if Henry shared the eyes of a father he never got to meet; the only way for Martin to live with Henry was through how he raised him and the lessons he taught.
Before he could sink deeper into contemplation, Samuel spoke.
"Why do you do so much to help others? Run yourself ragged for people."
How was he going to explain that?
Especially when Henry himself sometimes didn't understand why he was so compelled to aid others. The speed with which people managed to get into his heart and the lengths to which he would go for others have baffled his friends many times over. However, his mother always used to say that his empathy was one of his greatest gifts.
Johanka had initially been confused at his willingness to run around the region, spending hours digging through books and negotiating with the chamberlain to give the refugees at the Sasau monastery a chance of survival. Captain Bernard had been impressed by reports of him clearing out bandit camps and saving people from being robbed without expecting something in return.
Hans also constantly teased him about how he was secretly in control of Rattay, considering that most of the citizens were in his debt after the number of times he'd helped them out with every little thing.
It was perhaps true that he was a bit unusual.
"I don't know. I just listen to what my gut tells me is the right thing to do. I'm sorry, but I don't have any other explanation." Henry shrugged. He usually didn't spend enough time contemplating these things.
Samuel just waved him off with a flick of his wrist.
"You do not need to apologize. I simply wanted to know. Nonetheless, I'm grateful for your gut feeling; I doubt anybody else would have helped us defend the quarter like you did."
"You don't need to thank me, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
As if there was ever a chance that Henry wouldn't fight for his brother and those closest to him. They had started off on the wrong foot during their first meeting, but Henry quickly grew to respect and care for the older man.
He'd die for him, though he would not tell Sam that just yet.
"Perhaps that is the reason why you are always so hungry," the other man said in an amused tone. "Your gut has to do so much work for you; of course, it's an endless pit when food is concerned."
Henry laughed and couldn't help but smile at the gentle bit of teasing.
They finished the last bit of food they had left, and Henry returned the bowls to the kitchen and came back to the table with a bottle of wine and some cups.
Yes, the need to sleep was still gnawing at him, but when would he have another chance to spend time with Sam like this without being interrupted?
The blacksmith poured each of them a cup, which they emptied in one go. The disgusting swill they served as wine here burned its way down their throats, but it did its job of warming them up.
A peaceful silence stretched between them; the soothing sound of the cracking fireplace washed over Henry, gently trying to pull him deeper. He could almost feel his eyelids closing.
Sam was again the first to break the silence "What was he like."
There was no need to clarify who he was talking about.
"Pa was…," Henry needed a second to compose himself.
How do you best describe a person like that?
"Pa was kind. He always helped the people in the village, made them things for free or told them to pay them back later if they fell on hard times, and he helped out whenever there was a need for an extra pair of hands without expecting anything in return. He was always calm too, nothing that could ever really get a rise out of him, and he always kept a cool head even if shit went wrong at the forge."
Henry remembered the first time he burned himself at the forge. It had hurt like hell, and he was wailing from the pain, but his Pa had appeared at his side in an instant. With rough but gentle hands, he began treating the wound, telling him it was alright and that nothing bad would happen as long as he was at Henry's side.
He had always felt so safe around his Pa.
Samuel looked at him with wide eyes, which made him look so much younger as if he had been turned back into a child, eager for more. It was endearing to see his brother so enchanted by his recollection.
"He was a great teacher too; he taught me everything there is to know about being a blacksmith even when I wasn't the model student. I used to get into a lot of trouble with my old friends and didn't really take my work seriously, but he was patient and always set me straight. Always had a tone of advice and listened when I needed to talk."
Henry stopped himself, feeling the grief trying to claw its way out of his chest.
But now he's gone, just like his poor mother rotting under the linden tree.
"I miss him a lot."
His brother leaned back on his chair, emptying another cup of wine and running a hand through his short-cropped hair. The blacksmith noticed his hand was shaking a bit.
"He sounds like a good man, our father. I would have loved to get the chance to meet him," Samuel said, his face sombre and his eyes staring unblinkingly into the flames of the fireplace.
"I wish you could have met him too. You know I've always wanted to have a sibling." Henry answered before he could even think about what he was saying. The wine was starting to make his tongue lose.
Sam looked surprised at that revelation and he let out a bemused "Oh?"
"All of my friends had siblings," he explained, flustered.
"I guess I grew sort of jealous that I didn't. I would always ask Ma and Pa if I could have one, but they always said that I was already enough work for two. I guess now I know why they didn't want another."
Henry leaned forward in his chair and looked at Sam directly, giving him an earnest but mischievous grin. "I would have liked having you around growing up, though. We would have given Pa a bunch of grey hairs." The blacksmith joked.
Samuel chuckled, but the mirth didn't quite reach his eyes; traces of anger and longing lingered on the edges. His hand shot to his face, and the older man scratched his nails over his beard nervously.
"It's a nice fantasy." Was all he said.
The dismissive tone in Sams's voice startled him, and he looked at his brother with unease. Was there something Henry had missed or misunderstood? A line crossed that he didn't know existed? They got along well with each other, so why now-
Before his thoughts could spiral any further, Samuel interrupted him by leaning across the table and putting a hand on his shoulder to ground him; there was pity on his face as if he was about to gently tell a child a sad or disappointing piece of news.
"As nice as you make this Skalitz of yours sound, I doubt the townsfolk would have tolerated their blacksmith raising his bastard Jew son."
Oh, right.
They probably wouldn't have.
Henry blushed in embarrassment. How quickly he tended to forget that not everyone shared his laid-back opinion on other people. The fact that his brother had a different religion didn't matter to him, Sam was a good man, and that was all that counted. However, the people of Skaltz had barely been able to tolerate the Deutsch and his family. Who knew what they would have had to say about his brother.
It made him mad.
Samuel was a kind man and he didn't deserve any of this. Neither did his mother, Sara, or any of the other people living in the quarter. They never harmed anyone, but still, they were slaughtered in the streets. Henry tried to help as many as possible, but was it enough?
Henry took a sip of wine, hoping the burning liquid would drown the guilt inside him. However, it was a losing battle, and Henry spoke before he could stop himself.
"I'm sorry for what happened to your home. If we- If I had just-"
But Samuel interrupted him with a startled laugh before he could think about finishing that sentence.
"Why are you apologizing?" his brother asked in disbelief, making him sound ridiculous.
"You didn't cause this. And again, you helped out more than anybody else in your situation would have." The older man didn't look angry or upset at him; he just gazed somberly toward the wine cup in his hands.
That didn't help quell his fears however.
"But perhaps if we had looked through the game Von Bergow was playing sooner or if Godwin hadn't talked during the torture, we could have-"
"It would have happened, regardless." Samuel interrupted him again, this time a bit sterner, the hand on his shoulder returning, gripping tight to ensure the older man understood.
It made Henry feel pathetic. It was Sam's home that burned, and his people lost their lives only a month ago. If anything, the blacksmith should have been the one there trying to comfort his brother, not the other way around.
"They were looking for Liechtenstein, and with or without you, they would have found him eventually. And even if he had never been here in the first place, they would have come for us eventually. Their kind is always salivating for a reason to harm my people. This wasn't about you; this had nothing to do with you. So stop trying to take the burden of it on your shoulders because what? You think you deserve it? Just stop."
They stared at each other for a moment. Sam was breathing hard, having worked himself up during his speech. Hearing his brother drag all of his inner thoughts out into the open and dissecting them was brutal. Still, in a way, it also felt like absolution. So much blood stained his hands, all the people he killed or couldn't save, but knowing that the blood of the Jews of Kuttenberg wasn't among them.
Samuel finally let go of him and leaned back in his chair, his gaze returning to the flames of the fire. "But if it makes you feel better, I wouldn't turn down your help with killing that fucker Von Bergow when the time comes."
Henry would make sure to be there. He had gotten his revenge on Istvan, and he would help his brother get his.
"But you know what? I think I would have liked growing up with you, too," Sam said, obviously trying to lighten the mood and move away from such heavy topics. "I was such a quiet kid. I'm sure we would have completed each other well."
A picture was beginning to form in Henry's mind.
The two of them were helping their father in the forge, eagerly soaking up the wisdom he was trying to bestow on them. A young Sam trying and failing to teach his rowdy younger self how to read, keeping him out of trouble and taking care of him in a way only an older sibling could.
In turn, Henry would drag his brother away from the comforts of his books and go outside and climb the trees, chase the sheep across the pasture and steal vegetables from their neighbour's garden. Play fighting each other in the yard until their Pa comes along and joins in, all of them ending up in the dirt but laughing about it afterwards.
It was nothing but a fantasy, something that would have most likely never been as idyllic as his mind made it out to be. The world was sadly too harsh for that.
But if it wasn't a sweet fantasy, one that made his heartache and make him long for what could have been.
Henry smiled ruefully into his cup. At least they have a chance to get to know each other now, and even with the circumstances as dire as they were, he wouldn't trade that for anything. He had already lost his family once, felt the pain of grief, the regret of not being able to say goodbye, to let them know how much they meant to him. That wouldn't happen again.
By accident, Henry's gaze returned to the stack of papers that Sam had been carrying when he first, and he decided to switch the topic to something less gut-wrenching.
"What were you doing up so late anyway? Couldn't writing correspondences wait until the morning?"
A strange thing happened.
His brother's cheeks turned a bright red shade, and he looked at him like a startled deer. His mouth opened and closed like that of a fish before he hung his head low to burn holes into the table below with his gaze.
Huh?
In the short time they had known each other, Henry had seen a number of different emotions on Samuel's face: anger, grief, disgust, joy…
But this? Embarrassment was new.
It fascinates him, and he couldn't help but dig deeper.
"What has gotten you so worked up? Were you trying to practice your poetry or something? You don't have to be embarrassed about that. Sir Hans is shit at it too," Henry joked, wanting to be the one to tease his brother for once.
Sam turned even more red, something that Henry could not have thought possible because, at the moment, his brother could imitate a poppy quite well, and his eyes went impossibly wide.
"I-I just wanted to write a letter to Joh-Liechtenstein, nothing more." The older man stuttered out, looking like he'd much rather be anywhere else but here.
The stuttering actually made him pause. Sam had always appeared relatively confident in any and all tasks, so seeing him so flustered over a bit of paper was very strange. What was going on?
"Did something happen with him? Because you're treating this more like you're writing your secret lover or something." Henry didn't even know why he said that; it was probably that awful wine making his brain into mush and forcing him to say odd things. If Samuel didn't want to talk about it, he should just drop the subject.
However, his brother drew a sharp breath at his comment and gulped so loudly that Pebbles could have heard it in the stables.
Sam's wide eyes send him reeling. What was going on that could possibly unsettle the other man this much?
A thought crept up in the back of his mind.
No that….
They stared at each other.
It couldn't be…Samuel...and Liechtenstein?...
Henry clearly misunderstood something; just because he and Hans were like that didn't mean…
But then he remembered all the times he had seen them together.
Sitting so close together, pressed up against each other that there was no room left between them. Hands reaching for the same piece of paper or bottle and fingers brushing against each other. They way their eyes always searching for each other, sharing these little secret smiles. His brothers' worried hands ran over the noble's body to check for injuries during the attack, hugging each other a bit too long as Liechsteinstein departed for Kolin with the Jews…
Oh!
Henry let out a loud snort before he burst out laughing.
Tears were gathering in his eyes, and he wheezed so much that he started coughing instead. Samuel looked at him as if he had gone insane; from the outside, that might have seemed plausible.
"What is so funny about that?" Samuel asked cautiously, not taking his eyes off his younger brother. He must have noticed that Henry put together the pieces because he looked like a frightened animal that, if you moved too suddenly, would either attack or run away, as if the devil was chasing after it.
"It's just funny. What are the odds of two of us in one family? " he said, wiping his eyes and slowly returning to normal.
"Two of us…" Samuel mumbled and looked at him again before visibly retreating into his mind. After a moment, his gaze shot up, realization evident on his face.
"Wait, does that mean you and Capon…" he trailed off, but Henry knew what he wanted to say, so he gave a slight nod as confirmation.
In truth, he didn't mean to reveal the nature of his relationship just yet; things between them were still so new. He simply meant to share that they had the same proclivities. They were in strangely similar situations, though; both peasants in love with the nobles they swore to protect, so he didn't mind sharing. Also, Samuel was rather good at keeping secrets, so what would be the harm?
Samuel shook his head with a wry smile on his face. "That is certainly a bizarre coincidence."
Henry could only agree.
Before that evening, the blacksmith had only met three people who shared these same desires: Novice Lucas from the monastery, the nice herbalist Barnaby from Trosky, and Bartosch. Henry could still vividly remember the night the two of them had spent together...
However, all their interactions and time together had been brief, and none of them really wanted to discuss what they had in common. Even amongst themselves, it still felt too taboo to talk about it, especially with someone you didn't know all too well.
It felt nice to know he wasn't entirely alone in this. That he had someone to help him navigate the uncertain waters of his relationship with his lord.
"When did you know that you...you know?" Henry said but immediately regretted it. That was perhaps a bit too forward, too fast, but Samuel just shrugged it off and answered.
"I always did. In fact, I've never felt inclined towards women at all, unlike you if those stories Capon keeps spinning are to be believed."
A groan left him at that. Of course, Hans kept telling these tales about him.
They kept chatting for a few minutes, both of them comfortable discussing their mutual secret with someone but their loves for once, when Henry curiously asked, "When did you know you liked him, Liechtenstein."
The older man contemplated, a hand running over his beard as he thought up a response.
"I was wary of him when Zeyde first brought him to us. I'm not exactly fond of the nobility; they have not been kind to my people in the past, so I expected him to act like all the other goys towards us," a small smile danced across his face. "John wasn't like, though. He was very kind, respectful, and curious. Sure, he liked ordering us around; he remains a noble after all, but he cared and always insisted that my men shouldn't risk their lives for his."
It was nice to see his brother so smitten with someone; he'd been through so many hardships he deserved to have something nice like this for himself.
"So you see, it was hard to resist him for long. One night, after my men were able to uncover an essential piece of information regarding the League of Lords, we had a small celebration, just the two of us. We drank a lot and kept telling stories and jokes. After one of mine, John laughed so hard he nearly toppled over in his chair, and I realized that I...liked making laugh and that...he looked pretty doing it."
Samuel blushed ever so gently as he spoke and paused for a moment.
"And what happened then?" Henry asked excitedly , like a young village girl wanting to know all the gossip about their friend's romantic endeavours.
"After we drank a little more, we sat on his bed and talked. We talked about our childhoods and what dreams we had for the future when he suddenly leaned in and kissed me. It turns out he had been making advances for some time now. I was just too caught up in my own head to notice." His demeanour suddenly changed.
"It pains me to leave him, so we try to write as often as possible," Samuel explained sadly, gesturing towards the letters still lying beside him.
Henry could relate to that. Leaving Hans filled him with a hurt he had never felt before, and they were ripped apart; the young noble never went anywhere he couldn't follow. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to see his lord ride off thousands of miles away without a guarantee that they would ever see each other again.
"And what about you Bruder? I must admit I do not understand what you see in his Lordship, but when did you realize that you cared for him like that?" Samuel asked him, the sarcasm practically dripping from the word 'lordship'.
God grant him strength.
These two and their nonsensical grudge were going to be the death of him.
"After he was almost hanged at Trosky, " Henry answered, though the answer was far more complex than that.
The fact that he might like Hans more than just a friend or lord had been swimming in the back of his mind almost since the beginning. After Henry rescued him from those Cumans during their hunt, Hans and he quickly drew closer. Unaware to him at the time, Hans had already realized that he cared for him back then, though he kept it to himself, not wanting to risk losing his only real friend.
The first time Henry thought he might feel more for Hans was after Vranik. The wounds he obtained during the torture had become infected, and he spent a week bedridden. Hans had been there every day for at least several hours, talking to him, reading him books and playing dice when he felt better. Something like this was below his standing, but the nobleman had cared for him regardless, and it had made Henry feel... something.
But things happened so fast after that: the march back to Vranik, Lady Stephanie and his father kidnapped by Toth, the siege on Talmberg...so in the chaos, he simply forgot.
Until Henry saw the noose hanging around the noble's neck that was when he finally noticed what he truly felt. And it wasn't until he rescued Hans from Maleshov that they finally sat down and talked...and afterwards more than talked.
It had taken them a long time to get there, but they were happy.
Sam drained the last bit of liquid from the wine bottle into their cups, swirling it around in his before taking a sip.
"You do know that he is to be married."
Henry took a deep breath. "I know. That was inevitable, but I had hoped that we would have more time with each other. There's nothing to be done now. But as much as it may pain me, I'll remain at Sir Hans's side."
"Still, if you ever feel like it gets too much, know that there's always a place for you amongst us in Kolin," Samuel replied, his sincerity clear on his face.
It warmed Henry to hear that, though he was not sure he could take Sam up on that offer, he would stick to his noble's side until the end. It was still nice to know that he had other people who cared for him.
"Thank you, Sam. I appreciate it." Henry raised his cup and stretched his arm out in a toast.
Sam lifted his own "Always Bruder."
They finished the rest of the wine in one fell swoop.
His brother let out a loud yawn, which made Henry respond with his own, suddenly feeling the crushing weight of sleep deprivation again. He wouldn't be surprised if he slept through the whole day, though Hans would probably not allow that. They had not seen each other in the last weeks, so the young lord would not waste the opportunity to show his bodyguard how much he had missed him…
Finally standing up, Henry turned to his brother. "I think we should go to bed; who knows what Zizka will do tomorrow? Better we get some hour in." He waited for his brother to get up. Samuel remained seated despite looking like a corpse himself. He made no move to follow him. Cocking up an eyebrow, Henry looked at him.
The other let out a loud sigh and rubbed his temples. "Sleeping isn't exactly easy for me right now."
"Is it nightmares?" Henry asks gently, but Sam just shook his head.
"No—Well, not only. The nightmare, I can manage it. I just…" He trailed off while the blacksmith stood there, waiting patiently for his brother to continue.
Frustrated, he leaned forward and said through gritted teeth, "I have always been a light sleeper, and that damned French man cannot shut up even when asleep. Either he snores like a pig or he talks! It's maddening; I haven't been able to rest in the past few days." Samuel ran a shaking hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down.
"Can't you just use a lullaby potion? I'm certain Treadlight must have some stocked up." Henry suggested. He himself had often used them back in Rattay, and the nightmares became less when he used them.
"I thought about it, but," Sam trailed off, looking slightly ashamed of what he was about to say next. "Lullaby potion always makes me sleep so deeply that I might as well be dead to the world, and I don't like being so…helpless? Unaware of my surroundings? Especially if there's a chance that Sigismund's men might find us, I'd rather be alert for that.
"
It made sense that Henry himself had nearly been ambushed in his sleep a couple of times while he travelled. Some bandits thought that just because he was sleeping by the road meant he was an easy target. So if Erik and his men were to find them…
But Henry had a different idea.
"I'm good at making potions. I'm sure if I try, I could make something that helps you fall asleep fast but doesn't make you sleep too deeply. It may need a few nights of trial and error to get it right." Henry trailed off, already thinking about possible herbs that may aid him.
"And until we find something, how about you sleep in our room?"
His brother looked at him sceptically. "And his Highness would be alright with that?"
"You leave Sir Hans to me," because the aforementioned man would most certainly not be alright. However, Henry had become exceptionally versed in the art of calming the young noble down and getting what he wanted. "But neither of us snore or talk in our sleep, so until we figure something out, you can sleep there."
Samuel looked like he wanted to argue, but a mighty yawn escaped him and drained the fight out of him. "Alright, but if your Lord tries to suffocate me in my sleep, I want you to know I tried to warn you."
"I'll keep him on his best behaviour, I promise."
Together, they carefully dragged Sam's bedroll to the room Henry shared with Hans. Brabant didn't notice them making a ruckus; he just kept on babbling incoherently. Henry had to applaud Sam because if situations were reverent, he would have gone to sleep outside instead.
Henry prepared himself for bed while Sam set his bed up in the corner next to his trunk.
Soon, both brothers were buried under the thin sheets, slowly drifting.
"Henry," Sam called out quietly.
"Hm?"
"I'm glad we met, that's all."
Henry couldn't help but smile. "I'm glad too."
And before Henry could realize it, he fell asleep.
--
The blacksmith woke up to the insistent sound of something tapping on wood.
He tried to turn over and bury himself into his pillow, not yet ready to face the world. Before he could fully turn over, someone tuned him back around and lightly slapped him on the cheek. Raising his arms, Henry tried to swat the hands away and pulled the blanket over his head.
"Don't you dare ignore me, Henry!" A voice hissed quietly.
Wait, he knew that voice.
"Hans?" he asked tiredly, trying to claw the sheets from his head but struggling.
The noble gripped the edge of the blanket and yanked it down so he was now face to face with a very annoyed-looking Hans.
"Yes, who else would it be, Sigismund?!" He threw out with a glare so heated it could make wood burst into flames.
Henry sat himself up in bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand.
"What's got you so worked up?" Henry asked.
Hans looked down at him. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that my bodyguard said he would only be gone for a few days but then was still missing a week later, and he didn't bother telling anyone where he'd be."
The noble spoke through clenched teeth but still remained as quiet as possible.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
Henry reached out and took Hans' hand in his, his thumb swiping over the skin in a calming motion, trying to calm the other down. It worked because, with a loud sigh, all the fight drained out of him.
At that moment, Samuel, who was still sleeping, rolled over in his bed, the rustling of sheets startling them both.
"Also, what's he doing here." The noble pointed at his brother with an irritated face. Henry leaned to the side and saw Sam turned towards them, his hair mussed and his mouth open, drooling on his pillow.
Henry had to try hard not to laugh out loud at the image presenting itself, and Hans looked seconds away from bursting as well.
"We talked yesterday after I came back, and he told me he had trouble sleeping because of Brabant making so much noise, so until we found a solution, I told him he could sleep here."
Rolling his eyes in a theatrical, over-the-top manner, the noble let out a groan, but Henry quickly interrupted him to add, "It's just a few days, and like I said, I promise to make it up to you."
Hans stood closer to him and leaned into his ear. "Fine, but I will hold you to that blacksmith's boy. I was rather looking forward to our reunion." He whispered suggestively before starting to move away, but Henry was faster and quickly dragged him down by his hood into a kiss. Hans was still for a second, clearly started , before reciprocating and giving himself over to him.
It felt so good to be back.
Having remembered that there was another person in the room, Hans jumped away. He looked at Sam, making sure that the older man was still asleep and hadn't seen anything.
Henry chuckled, which earned him a steely look.
"It's fine, Hans. Sam won't tell anyone," Hans almost looked like he wanted to interrupt him, but Henry quickly added, "After all, he's in the same boat as us."
That managed to shut the noble up. All he could do was open and close his eyes helplessly. After a moment of that, he began rubbing his temples as if staving off a headache and moved towards the door.
"You'll explain everything later; I'll let you sleep for now. You still look like shit, and Zizka already sounded like he wants to send you on another goose chase."
The noble waved him goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
Henry fell back into bed like a heavy sack and began cuddling himself back into the sheets.
Beside him, he could hear Samuel softly mewling in his sleep. From the outside, he could hear Kubyenka singing some suggestive tavern song in all the wrong notes. The aggravated voices of Hans, the Devil and Adder arguing over something soon joined the chorus, with Mutt happily barking along.
Henry closed his eyes and smiled.
He was glad to be home.