Work Text:
Henry's investigation lead him to Apollonia. He would go there too - if only he didn't come across a cozy looking bench, overlooking the clearing above Troskowitz, below the Trosky castle.
It is a pleasant spot, surrounded by flowers, underneath a linden tree. Clearly regularly visited too, with some remnants of bread, drink and fruit baskets. Right behind the bench the forest stretches far and wide. Whoever picked this spot to build the bench had sense, for sure.
Mutt, being a beast of gluttony, already scoured for any remnant piece of meat.'
Since he's already here, Henry might as well sit rest a bit. His current task is of no urgency and wedding is still week and a half away. No rush.
His sits on a bench with a sigh, suddenly feeling tired. Ever since he's been left alone in Troskowitz, his days consisted of constant running around doing errands for peasants and minor nobles alike - to sleeping in whatever barn or abandoned bedroll. If not for the nicely equipped inn in Zhelejov, he would've forgotten what a proper bed feels like.
Piece by piece, he takes off his armour - if one could even call it that. It barely offered any protection. He had no chest plate or brigadine, just some couters with rondels for his elbows and knees. He got his padded hose off a corpse and still wore rough, patched up gambeson Gnarly gave him. Truly, the last time he was so poorly equipped was when he escaped Skallitz.
It's not that he didn't have the money, no. He had a good thing going on at Radovan's smithy, and the odd jobs he took on the side fattened his purse some more. It's that he couldn't afford not to save up for some fine fabric - with that wedding being on the horizon. While his protection left a lot to be desired, as he relied on hand-downs, at least the sword at his hip was a good one. How could it not be, when he made it himself?
And just in case that damn liege of his happens to be broke, he will need to save some extra for him, too. Lest he gets mistaken for a beggar again.
He stretches forming a star with his limbs and butt still firmly planted on the bench. He takes a look around. Man, this place was beautiful. Smelled nice, too.
"Wish I could bring Ma here... she would have loved this place."
Sudden reminder of his parent hit him like a mace to the chest. I miss her. I miss her so much. He remembers his mother's gentle smile. Her gentle touch whenever she tended to his wounds. It wasn't long ago when he would come home to her crying after getting beaten up by a neighbour. That seemed so far away now, like a different lifetime. He won't have anyone care about him that much ever again, will he?
He won't have anyone tuck him into bed at night. Or force him to eat healthy instead of indulge in dried meat and sweet pastries. Tears started prickling his eyes. He won't be able to cry on anyone's shoulder anymore without feeling weak. It's so lonely without you, Ma...
Suddenly feeling tired and overcome with emotion, he laid horizontal on the bench, threw an elbow over his eyes to shield them from the afternoon Sun and let the sleep take him.
It was a good haul today. Hans' back felt heavy with a backpack full of venison - all the best cuts (as good as he could cut them). It was a good day today too, with dusk approaching, he was making way towards Troskowitz butcher.
Though he was raking in good money from this arrangement, he could not, and did not spare a groschen for anything other than base necessities. Which was why his current attire left a lot to be desired. Not to mention he will have to provide some decent outfit to his belligerent squire as well. No doubt that Henry was struggling.
As he took a turn outside the forest, to check how much longer 'til he reached Troskowitz, he spotted something. Or someone. Lying on the bench which overlooks the village.
What a lucky turn of- or rather- what a naive soul, Hans thinks. To decide to take a nap here where anyone could just pass by and relieve them of their purse. Not that Hans would, of course. That would be stealing and - as a nobleman - he does not steal.
He... confiscates! Yes. It is, ah, a payment, of sorts. After all, one must be incredibly naive to do this, and getting their coin stolen is actually the luckier outcome. What if some ne'er-do-well tried something worse? Like murder? Therefore, it is up to Hans - as a born bellator and a good Christian - to teach this bloke a valuable lesson. Which obviously won't come for free.
Not to mention that his mission is of utmost importance for the fate of the land! This poor sod won't even be aware of his contribution to the future peace of this kingdom. After all, any extra coin will make sure that his and Henry's finery stands out even more.
As he moved closer, he couldn't help but notice a curled up ball of fur sitting at the foot of the bench. A dog? Sleeping it seems, hopefully soundly enough that it won't notice Hans' approach.
He better make things quick, then.
Han's turned to inspect the unfortunate fellow. Then paused.
Henry?
The damned peasant was sleeping, an elbow thrown over his eyes, chest slowly rising and falling with each breath. Though before he could study him further, he realized...
If Henry is here, then...
He turned back towards the furball at the ground. Which was now looking at him with it's too-big eyes, giving the impression that the beast was too smart while simultaneously being an airhead.
Mutt.
"Please don't bark." Hans pleaded. He loathe to admit it, but he can't face Henry now. He just knows it would turn into another fight.
Mutt though, continued to look at him curiously, and blessedly, did not let out a sound. Instead, the animal sniffed at him with interest. His stare somewhere above Hans' shoulder.
Hans paused. Right, the meat. In his excitement over easy money, he completely forgot what he was carrying. A sack full of venison. No wonder Mutt woke up.
Unsure what to do, Hans waited. The dog sniffed him some more and then - started to growl.
This damned beast! He'll wake Henry up if Hans doesn't do something!
He moved quickly - unfurled his sack and threw the first piece of venison he could grab at the animal.
"There, you don't get to complain that I don't take care of you."
Mutt, of course, dived right in - without even a word of thanks. No manners, just like his master. Though it was probably for the better, lest he wakes him up. Hans was still grateful though, for he was sure that had he been a stranger to the dog, Mutt wouldn't have hesitated to announce his presence.
Now, Hans turned his attention to Henry.
He doesn't look too well off. He noted with strange sense of satisfaction, mixed with a pang of guilt - which he refused to unpack.
Gambeson in particular, caught his eyes first. It was so worn out, with stitches and patches all over. No doubt it's been repaired so many times that there's not a single strand of the original left. Like a gambeson of Theseus. The hose looked hardly any better. There was a discarded set of rondels at the foot of the bench. Not good either. Those offer hardly any protection.
At the very least, Henry had a good-looking sword at his hip. No doubt the blacksmith forged it himself. The scabbard was brand new, and although Hans couldn't inspect the blade itself, from hilt and pommel alone Hans knew for sure it was of his making. There is no way any other peasant in this godforsaken backwater could forge a piece like this.
Sounds of Mutt munching down on that meat didn't cause Henry to stir. Thankfully. Though now... Hans was unsure on what to do. He looked at the blacksmith's face again, half hidden from the view. He appeared at ease like this. Maybe.
And judging from the fact that he was clean-shaven and didn't stink... perhaps he wasn't as worse off as he appeared but was merely saving up money, like Hans was.
Couldn't he have found a better place for a nap? Hans noted. Mutt or no Mutt, someone else could have caught him unawares.
Which... reminds him. He did promise Henry to help him find his dog, didn't he? So Mutt being here meant Henry did it on his own. A promise Hans couldn't keep. A jab on the worth of his word as a noble. His stomach twisted, unsure on what to make of his feelings.
Well, I fed him just now, didn't I?. That meant the part of his broken promise had to be forgiven, right?
Right?
Ignoring the devil on his right shoulder who told him that wasn't true, he studies Henry again. A soft breeze flew through, rustling the leaves on the tree above. It's getting chilly.
And Henry reacted, wrapping arms around himself, but still staying asleep.
Why didn't this fool at least get something to cover himself with before going to sleep?
Hans sighed. This yokel finds a way to annoy him even when he's unconscious. Does he even know how embarrassing it would be for Hans to greet Von Bergow alone, without a retinue, because his squire was sick? Does he? No he doesn't, because he never thinks and just does whatever he wants like the yokel he is.
So now Hans is left without a choice, but the take his own coat off and wrap it around Henry the best he can. It's not exactly enough to envelop his broad frame, but it's better than nothing.
Henry doesn't stir, despite noble's ministrations.
There, all tucked in. Now he won't catch cold at least. Crisis averted.
But there was still an issue. God knows this blacksmith is no different than the hound that follows him. And the fact that Mutt was hungry can only mean that Henry doesn't have enough food for both of them! Is the yokel even eating properly at all? No doubt he's just munching on whatever is available at the time.
"How annoying" Hans muttered. He realizes he has to look after his squire's belly, too.
He opened his pouch and fished out some of what he had. Dried meat, an apple and a horseradish (but no carrots). Hans learned from the young age that diverse diet is the best for your humours. Something this peasant had no way of knowing.
He is lucky, therefore, that Hans is so generous as to leave him an apple and the horseradish. On his chest, as he wasn't about to lay them on the ground. Meat was out of the question, because no doubt Mutt would jump to devour it as soon as Hans leaves them alone.
"There, now you can't say I don't take care of you, either." Hans whispers to himself. Then, he felt silly. What was he doing? It's not like he was planning to let Henry know...
Henry, on the other hand, looked as ridiculous as Hans felt. Draped over with a coat that doesn't quite cover him, an apple and a radish on his chest - he looked like something an apprentice artist would paint as a practice.
Regardless, he lost enough time. Mutt was over halfway done with venison already and Hans had to meet with the butcher right after sundown. He better get going.
...
But what if someone else comes by and robs his servant, seeing how his dog was clearly accepting bribes? That would be a disaster at this point in time, with wedding just around the corner...
Hans ruffles his own hair in annoyance. "Fine!" he yells, startling himself. Taking a quick glance back at Henry, who once again, didn't stir.
"Fine," he repeats "I'll stand guard. But just this once, you ungrateful peasant." The lengths I go to over his stupid decisions. Unbelievable. He huffs and hides in the bushes behind the tree which loomed over the bench.
Henry yawns, sleep steadily leaving him. He opens his eyes bleary, trying to gather himself. He hears sounds that are all too similar to Mutt going all out on a bone. He turns his head and looks down - and indeed, mutt is licking a bone clean. Where the hell did he get it from? That's no small bone either. It would have to be either that of a stag or a boar. Not to mention it looked fresh and pink, meaning it was hunted recently.
"Huh, where the hell did you get that from, you little devil?"
He moved to sit up - only he noticed something roll from his chest down to his lap.
An apple. And horseradish.
"What the fuck!?"
For one, the tree above the bench wasn't an apple tree. So it couldn't have fallen on him from there. And secondly - even if it were - horseradish doesn't grow on trees!
Someone must have pulled a prank on him. Of some kind. Henry can't quite place it yet.
He combed his hair with his hand, pulling it back. Someone had: fed his dog, placed fruit and vegetable on him like he's some kind of pagan altar and, it looks like, covered him with some shabby green coat. If this was a joke, Henry struggled to find a punchline. At worst, he could only imagine he looked right silly. He checked his pouch and his pockets; all his money and supplies are untouched, as was his equipment.
He sighed, took a bite of the apple and moved to sit properly, looking at the setting Sun. Mutt jumped onto the bench next to him, placing his big head on Henry's lap. Lad absent-mindedly scratched his ear. He admired the view once again.
In all seriousness, this could've been worse. Instead of catching attention of some brigand, he seems to have caught attention of some Troskowitz granny. This was Henry's best guess. Nothing else made sense.
"I suppose there are still kind people left in the world, eh Mutt?"
Mutt ignored him, enjoying the scratches with closed eyes.
Ghost of sadness that haunted him before he took a nap lingered still. It wasn't often he took time for himself to relax and be with his own thoughts. It was nice and quiet here.
Heh, quiet. Unlike certain someone.
...
So that's how it's going to be. He took another bite of the apple, realizing how peckish he's feeling. Every now and then Henry's thoughts stray to that annoying noble knobhead, despite his best efforts. He did ask around the region about him, but that led him nowhere. Wherever he was, it was clear he didn't wish to be found. Which is why Henry, in turn, gave up on the search. He will not grace his mind with the thoughts of him. If nobleman wanted to be a brat and act all alone, so be it. Henry will respect his wishes and stay out of his way.
Yet... mind betrays him still. Henry figures, he will only hurt himself more if he continues lying to himself like this. That's why...
I miss him.
He let the feeling wash over him. It was inevitable - they were friends, after all. Though Henry still wants an apology. Of course he does! He was wronged, insulted and abandoned! Despite his best intentions, or rather in spite of them.
There is no denying that he was wronged - and that friendship can't continue unless Hans grows up and makes amends.
... That did not make it hurt any less, though. Hans is the only real friend Henry has left, aside from Theresa. So he could not help but worry.
Yes, worry. Hans is somewhere out there, all by himself. And given his character, it is highly unlikely some kind old stranger would offer a helping hand to him - like what Henry had happen to himself just now. He can only hope that his charge isn't acting rash while on his own.
He gives voice to his own thoughts: "I wonder how Hans is doing... I hope he's alright."
Mutt whined in response. Or is it in response of head scratches? Then...
Crunch
A somewhat loud noise broke from behind, Henry's head snapped in its direction. It sounded too much like a foot breaking a branch with a step.
"Is someone there?" Henry asks, yet forest remains silent. No signs of a wild animal, or even a person. Perhaps... there was a silhouette in a distance, but it was gone instantly. Henry's eyes could just be playing tricks on him. After all, Mutt was completely unbothered too, aside from his perked up ears.
He sighs. Oh well, it didn't matter. It was getting late and he ought to find some proper lodgings. Maybe Betty the inkeeper will let him crash in the hay for the night?
He packs his things, including the new green coat and makes his way towards Troskowitz. He tosses apple core somewhere in the grass. And horseradish... he hates those things, but spitting on a gift is bad manners, so he places it in his pouch. Maybe he can trade it for a carrot?