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It started as a stray thought, something that occurred to Hans all the way back when their misadventure had begun. As they had set up the camp by the waterside, Hans had already been thinking pleasant thoughts about a dip in the cool water. The men were taking care of the horses as he wandered down to the shore, but his attention was drawn to a sudden commotion. He turned to see Henry on the ground, flailing around as the others laughed and dodged his windmilling limbs.
He fumbled to his feet again, his entire body shaking a cloud of dust and crushed grass from his coat as he laughed uproariously. Hans snorted as he watched Pebbles following suit, the gray mare coming up again almost a totally different color. “Oh, come on!” he complained, walking over. “Look at what a mess you’ve made!”
Henry stepped his front legs forward into a long, bowing stretch, groaning with the release of tension and Hans very decidedly didn’t stare. “What is all this about, anyway? All you’ve done is made yourself muddy, look at you!”
It was true; the dirt he’d been rolling in had mixed with the sweat on his coat and now Henry was covered in patches of rapidly crusting mud. “Ah, it’ll flake off. I’ll have another shake, brush a bit, it’ll be fine. Besides, a good roll feels good. Look, even Pebbles agrees.”
“You’re a bad influence on my horse, you dreadful beast!” Hans said, getting shoved roughly to one side as Pebbles wandered over to push her face directly into his, demanding attention. “Get off me, you brat!”
Henry didn’t say anything as he watched Hans sneak his mare a few slices of dried apple from his belt pouch. He stretched his upper body, mail and shirt riding up to show that strange place where the hair of his hide faded away into bare skin. “Ah, let the old girl go. She’s just feeling good today. A good run, green grass, a fine breeze… It’s a good day.”
“It is, isn’t it? Come on, come wade with me. You don’t have to go far, I’ll help you wash the mud off. When was the last time you had a proper wash?”
“I don’t know, I go down to the stream pretty regular. But a brush and a trough usually do the job.”
“No wonder you’re filthy, you monster. Get your gear off, you reek worse than Pebbles does.”
It didn’t stay a good day, of course, and the thought of finding a place for Henry to have a proper bath was swept aside by all the many endless events that followed. It wasn’t until he was expected to make a stop back at the Den during his infiltration of Sigismund’s camp that Hans had the idea again.
He’d been helping the apothecary lay stones over the edges of the canvas to hold it in place when he heard the thump of hooves in the yard and the tell-tale clatter of metal as Henry approached. He left the man finishing up with a few quiet words and a wave to the bathmaids standing near the fire nearby. Emerging into the courtyard of the den, Hans found Henry attempting to unbuckle the harness that held his bags in place.
“Let me,” Hans said, coming around and waving for Henry’s attention. “Welcome back.”
Henry shuffled slightly as Hans approached, eager to have the weight off his body. “Thanks. I can’t stay long, I’m supposed to be hunting some deserters but I think they won’t miss me if I take an extra day.”
Hans heaved the bags off, carrying them over to a stand he’d had set up near the tent they shared. After he had seen the dreadful state Henry was living in at the Den, Hans had made some effort to get things more comfortable for him. The stand, for one, with space for both his normal solo pack and the saddle he wore when he had to reluctantly bear a rider. There was a crude armor stand as well that stood higher than they usually did, to make the reaching easier for Henry. A chest had been placed nearby that held a new set of grooming equipment, and Hans personally had learned a frankly embarrassing amount about saddle maintenance for a noble of his standing. It was worth it, though, for the face he made the first time Henry had seen the way Hans had gotten the beat up saddle to shine, with fresh repairs that even Henry said were well done.
Henry had divested himself of his plate, which he passed to Hans to hold as he leaned forward to shake loose his mail. Hans took that too, staggering under the weight, and got them both set up on the stand as Henry performed his usual vigorous shake. He accompanied it this time with a quick trot in a circle around the tent, clearly trying to ease some lingering tension from his body.
“Oi! Get back here so I can take the caparison off!” Hans shouted, sighing at the sight of his friend's capering. Henry returned, plucking at his gambeson strings and shedding the garment with relief. Hans took that as well, undoing the caparison and harnessing and sliding everything off Henry's back and into a pile on the ground. He'd deal with it later.
“You reek so bad it’s like I’m standing in a cloud of horse smell,” Hans said casually, opening the chest to pull out the hoof pick. “Hold still, you monster.”
Henry did as he was bid, allowing Hans to maneuver his legs around and clean them of the debris of the road. “How has it been here?”
“Quiet, boring. The usual. Did you throw a shoe while you were gone?”
“Yeah, I had to make a new one in Miskowitz.”
“It looks like it’s fitted well.”
“The smith there is decent at his job. And he doesn’t try to talk to me in that voice people always use on animals when I need him to do work.”
“Good. There, put your foot down. You’re pretty clean this time. Let me get the comb, your tail is a rat’s nest.”
Henry shook himself again, and Hans made a wordless cry of complaint as more dust rose into the air. “They haven’t got shit at the camp for the horses, it’s a crying shame. Poor beasts there get the same shit food, hardly ever get a good wash, don’t even get much exercise.”
“Can’t they graze?” Hans asked, holding Henry’s shirt out of the way as he began combing the thick brown hair where it joined his torso.
“On what? Ground’s pounded to mud and dust. They eat well enough, I suppose, but I think when I go back I might try and sneak them something green if I can. Maybe some cabbages or something, I’ll see what I can find nearby. Not that any of the townsfolk around the camp have much to spare.”
They fell quiet again as Hans worked, although he paused to stare accusingly at Henry when he was given a solid whack with his tail. “Sorry,” Henry shrugged, embarrassed. “You tickle sometimes when you comb.”
Hans grumbled, but he resumed his task, pausing only to stare in despair at the tangled mess of Henry’s tail. “I’ll be here for ages if I do this now. Here, I’ll get one of the maids to do it in the bath. They should be just about ready by now.”
Henry turned, and Hans dodged his feet nimbly. “What?”
“I have a surprise for you, come with me.”
Henry’s face contorted into a strange mixture of hesitation and determination, a signal Hans had come to realize that his human common sense was struggling with his more horse-ish instincts. “Oh, it’s nothing bad, don’t look like that. Come on, you’ll see. It’s just around the corner.”
Henry did as he was bid, following Hans out the rear of the courtyard and around to the far side. The scene he was greeted with was… confusing, to say the least. Four of the women from the nearby baths were there, gathered around a strangely lumpy pool partially sunk into the ground. Two of them were emptying buckets of water into it that had clearly come from the stream, while the other two were heaving steaming cauldrons in as well. A stool safely out of the way contained a mountain of rags and cloths, and there was a small collection of bottles set on the ground next to it.
“Hans, what- what is this?”
“A bath!” he replied proudly, gesturing.
“I don’t… what?”
The maid Anna laughed. “Lord Capon has been working on this for days with us, sir. We all feel bad that you do all your bathing in the stream.”
“But- but the stream is fine. The stream feels good.” Henry hadn’t sat in a tub since he was a tiny child; he’d quickly outgrown them and his parents had despaired of finding something that could contain his rapidly growing body. He’d been scrubbing himself in whatever body of water he could find for most of his life.
“It feels good because you don’t know what a bath feels like,” Hans said with a snort. “And you may think you do a good job, but you really don’t.”
Vanya, one of the women who helped him with his laundry, laughed as well. “Let us do this for you, Henry. Our mistress agrees, you’ve helped us so much with keeping bad customers away, this is the least we can do.”
Henry stared down into the water, and he felt himself take a tiny step back. “I can’t swim.”
Hans was going to laugh at this, until he realized that Henry’s eyes were slowly widening and his shoulders were beginning to tense. “You don’t need to, Henry, look. It only comes up to my waist when I’m standing. If you sit, it’ll just come up around your stomach.” Hans moved to stand beside the structure, holding one hand out for Henry and keeping his voice even.
“You don’t even have to sit, if you don’t want to. You can stand. But the warm water will feel good. And if you sit it’ll make it easier for us to reach.”
“Reach what?”
“Reach you , silly,” one of the women laughed. “We’re here to help you wash.”
“Come on, Henry, just give it a try. Just come stand in the water. Look, you can step right over the edge and in, you don’t even need to jump.” Hans still held his hand out and Henry shuffled nervously over.
“What if I slip getting in?”
“Henry, I’ve seen you leap a four-foot stone wall in full battle gear without being able to see the other side and you landed just fine.”
Henry made a noise in the back of his throat reminiscent of Pebbles’ nervous whicker. “I won’t force you, Henry,” Hans said quietly, taking Henry’s hand gently. “But I think you’ll really enjoy it.”
“... Yeah, all right. Let go of me, though. If I fall I don’t want to hurt you.”
Hans merely clutched his hand tighter and said cheerfully, “Then you’ll just have to not fall, won’t you?”
The actual process of stepping in took several minutes, and Henry was flushed such a bright red by the time he stood in the water that he couldn’t bear to meet any of the maid’s eyes. He could tell they were trying their hardest not to giggle at him, and he appreciated it, but it didn’t make him feel any less of a skittish fool. “Okay,” he said, shifting slowly so that the water didn’t slosh over the sides too much. “Okay, now what?”
Hans sucked his lips into his mouth to avoid snickering and gestured slowly at the bath maids, who were now all holding small buckets and ladles. “Now you take your shirt off, you buffoon, and the lovely ladies get to work.”
Henry shrugged his shirt off, handing it to the waiting Hans, and then his entire body tensed in one startled jerk when a gentle splash of warm water hit his flank and it was only his extensive training in Rattay that kept him from lashing out at the source.
Hans stood in front of him, kneeling on the edge of the bath with Henry’s hand still held in his. “Relax, they’re just getting you wet. See? Just the warm water. It feels nice, right?”
“Y-yes,” Henry squeezed Hans’ hand tighter even as he said, “You’re getting wet, you should step back.”
“Nope!” Hans said simply, adjusting until he was more comfortable. “I’m here to make sure you’re okay. You’ve seen or helped all of these lovely ladies before, you know them, right?”
“Yes, of course,” Henry twitched again as another splash reached high on his back. The water only just brushed the bottom of his flank, and the gentle lapping was making him uneasy. Perhaps sitting down would help? He glanced around, watching the women as they gently ladled water over him. Even just the water that was running off his body was coming away cloudy with dirt and grime. “I-if I sit…”
Hans grinned and leaned sideways to catch the eyes of the women. “One moment please, ladies. Henry’s going to sit to make it easier.”
Well, now he didn’t have a choice, did he? Damn it, Hans… The four women stepped back but Hans refused to, still clutching Henry’s hand in a deathgrip. “You’ll get wet.”
“I’ll change.”
“Damn it, Hans-”
“Just sit down, you silly thing.”
Henry collapsed his legs beneath him suddenly, sending a wave of water sloshing over the side of the tub and stared his challenge at Hans. “There.”
“Good. Now enjoy it.”
And he did. For several minutes, the only noises were the quiet murmurs of the women as they tried to communicate what they were doing as they did it, which Henry suspected strongly was Hans’ doing, to help him feel more at ease with the situation. Hans, for his part, was playing gently with Henry’s hands, holding a murmured and almost entirely one-sided conversation about the goings-on around the Den and recent gossip that had come through with other travelers. Henry was finally starting to feel at ease when a sudden weight on his back sent him shooting upright, sending another wave of water crashing over the side along with all four bathmaids. Hans managed to stay upright only because Henry’s grip on him was so tight, he couldn’t have fallen if he’d actively tried to.
“Sorry!” Henry said, his hooves pawing and shuffling the bottom of the tub nervously, trying to regulate his suddenly nervous breathing. “Sorry, sorry, I don’t- don’t touch-”
“Henry? What happened? Henry, tell me what spooked you.” Hans was moving and tilting himself so that he kept his face in Henry’s nervously shifting view as much as possible.
“One of the- the girls, climbed on my back-”
“Ah. Ladies, are you all okay?” Hans glanced down at them and Henry only just realized he’d knocked the poor women over.
A chorus of affirmatives came back, but Henry couldn’t stop the flush of shame that came creeping up his chest into his neck and face. “We shouldn’t-”
“I think we’ll just keep off his back, yes? It’s startling.”
“But sir, we can’t reach him if we don’t.”
Hans hummed in thought, glancing down at his own soaked attire. “I suppose it can’t be helped, then. Henry, would you be okay if I sat behind you?”
It seemed a pointless question, since Hans was already stripping out of his clothing. “I- what? Is- I guess? What are you-”
Clad only in his braies, Hans grinned up at Henry as he moved around to the side of the tub and hauled himself in. “You should be fine if it’s me, right? You let me ride you sometimes, after all. Is this okay?”
Henry’s muscles twitched at the sensation of the hand stroking gently down his spine. “Y-yeah, you’re… you’re probably fine.”
“Good. Can you sit again? To make it easier?”
“I-” Henry forced himself to take several deep breaths, feeling his flanks expanding with them. “Yes. One second.”
Hans shifted smoothly as Henry settled again, sliding himself up onto Henry’s back with gentle touches and murmurs over the sound of the sloshing bath. “There we go, excellent. What a fantastic beast, look at this fine coat, what a beautiful creature, how lovely…”
Henry wanted to protest at being spoken to like this, but the constant praise, combined with the comforting circles of the rag along his back, did wonders to soothe his nerves. Not that he’d let anyone else get away with it. Hans was allowed to soothe him because… because it was Hans. He understood the difference between using the soft voice and kind words to soothe Henry, and using them to soothe Pebbles. When others tried, the tone was wrong.
He twitched when Hans encountered his scars.
“Still sensitive?” Hans asked, gently moving around the one high on his back and trying to locate the other one further down so he could avoid it as well.
“Yeah. They still ache some days. And it sort of hurts to touch them.”
“Let me know if I get too close, then, I’ll go around. Any others?”
Henry shifted, flexing his upper back and studiously avoiding the eye of the woman who had come around to begin on his lower chest. “No, I don’t think so.”
Hans hummed, and returned to his steady stream of nonsense. He abandoned the rag partway through, choosing instead to dig his fingers into the muscle of his upper back where it was tight and knotted. He slumped forward, a satisfied groan rumbling through both sets of his lungs as Hans worked over the tension in his upper back.
The women giggled at it, but with the warm water soothing his tired lower body and the rhythm of Hans’ murmured nonsense, Henry was becoming hard pressed to care. He found himself slipping into a pleasant daze, lulled by the gentle ministrations. It wasn’t until Hans called his name that Henry realized he’d almost been dozing off. “Huh? What?”
Hans laughed. “You really were falling asleep! Come on, you lump. Stand up so we can give you a good rinse and then get you out and dry.”
With a groan, Henry stood, waiting for his legs to become steady underneath him after an unknown amount of time sitting. He stepped carefully out and waited patiently while he was sluiced down with water before trotting a short distance away to shake himself thoroughly. The women laughed to watch him, and he pranced a little extra on his way back, shaking one last time as he approached Hans, laughing when he spluttered dramatically. “You brute! Just for that I’m not using the really nice oil I got!”
The women complained in chorus at this, which confused Henry because it seemed reasonably certain that whatever oil Hans was talking about was probably for him and not them. “What?”
“Oh, Henry,” Eliska sighed, “He found the most lovely infused oil.”
“And he won’t get any of it!” Hans folded his arms dramatically, and the women all sighed and pleaded for his forgiveness. Henry simply laughed, grabbing a towel to begin drying himself off properly while they were all busy.
After a minute or two, Hans threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! If you’re all so determined to side with this beast, who am I to stand against you? Ladies, if you could dry him off while I go make myself presentable, please…”
Henry snorted as Hans gathered his sodden clothing and marched barefoot back into the courtyard. Meanwhile the women descended upon him with cloths and towels. He was bidden to sit again in a dry patch so they could reach to dry and tame the hair on his head, and they were all exclaiming over the gloss of his coat when Hans returned, dressed again in a more plain shirt than he usually chose to wear.
“Oh, Lord Hans, did you know his hair was so sleek?” Vanya stroked his lower shoulder adoringly. “I wish I could get my hair to look this fine.”
“You can,” Hans said, grinning as he approached. “Henry’s secret is he sweats a lot, rolls around in the dirt whenever the fancy takes him, and then bathes in a cold stream periodically.”
The women laughed, and Henry found himself joining in. He felt wonderfully loose after the bath, and cleaner than he had probably ever been before. Hans handed him a shirt, a loose green linen one that would hang comfortably on him and he obliged Hans’ demanding gesture by flopping gracelessly down onto the ground in the shade of the trees. The women stayed to chat for only a few minutes, but left quickly to gather their things and carry it all back to the bath tents.
“I should have helped them with that,” Henry murmured, fiddling with the stem of grass he had pulled up.
Hans’ voice carried up from where he was seated behind him, combing out the remaining snags and tangles in his tail. “Don’t feel bad, I tipped them well.”
“I should hope so, I nearly trampled them once or twice.” Henry stuck the blade of grass into his mouth and slowly munched on it. It was fresh and sweet, new growth after a recent rain. He reached for a few more.
“Are you grazing up there?!” Hans asked. “You animal.”
Henry chuckled. “It was a long ride here, and I am quite hungry. I didn’t get a chance to eat before you dragged me off.”
“Well, we can go find something for you when I’m done here in a minute.”
“What’s that smell? Is that chamomile?”
“It is, and rose too. I got it for your tail. What do you think?”
“Mmm, I like it. Sort of gentle, not too overwhelming.”
Hans hummed. “That’s why I thought you’d like it. There, all done.” A hand gently tapped his rump and Henry scrambled to stand.
“Can we eat now?” he asked, hastily tucking the head of a dandelion into his mouth.
Hans laughed. “Yes, you absolute monster. Good Lord, who taught you your manners?”
Henry laughed as well, walking sedately alongside Hans back towards the Den. “My mother tried her best, but you can see what she was working with.” His mind flashed briefly to Hans’ murmured wonderful creature, beautiful man, so brave, so gentle and he very carefully ignored the blush it stirred.
Hans leaned against his lower shoulder briefly. “Well, she did a good job, regardless of your weed-eating habits. Come on, let’s see what Treadlight’s got on offer.”
Henry glanced back at the tub they had built for him, now with one corner open to release the water. “Do you think we could try that again, another day?”
Hans glanced back as well, then up at Henry with a glowing smile. “Of course we can, you fool. We’ll make a regular thing of it, if you want.”
“I think I’d like that.” Henry smiled down at him for a moment before the scent of cooking food caught his attention and he picked up speed towards the kitchen entrance of the inn.