Chapter Text
Alex came to slowly as he registered the brightness of the Parisian sun shining into his face from where rays of it filtered through the drawn curtains. Instinctively, he reached out his hand, feeling across the bed for the warm body he had fallen asleep pressed up against, but when his blind search came up empty, he frowned and blinked his eyes open.
Henry was indeed not in bed with him, which Alex, quite frankly, found an audacity. After all, it had been the Prince himself who had all but kidnapped Alex from their brownstone in Brooklyn in an overnight escapade to fly them all the way to Europe, just so they could stay at the same hotel they’d spent that fateful night at all these years ago and of which Henry still had the Le Monde tucked away as memorabilia.
Not that Alex had minded, of course. He’d just graduated law school three days ago and, quite frankly, felt like he deserved some kind of reward, and his boyfriend putting on his Prince Charming cape and whisking him off to a faraway land for a romantic getaway was just the thing he needed to get his mind off the stress he’d put himself through these past months.
But now, said boyfriend was MIA and Alex was not on board with that. He’d had plans for when they woke up. Plans that involved Henry and the bed and his iconic travelling lube. Alex huffed, rolling onto his back with a pout, his hand reaching for his phone so that he could demand for Henry to return right this instance - when his fingers came into contact with a sheet of stationary. Intrigued, Alex picked it up, unfolding it and squinting to try and make out Henry’s handwriting without putting on his glasses.
Alex, it read, I’m sorry I sneaked out while you were sleeping, but I had things to prepare and I wanted to let you sleep in. In fact, I have a whole day planned for us today, so whenever you feel ready to move out of bed, I’m going to take you on a little trip across town.
Paris is said to be the city of love, but I never felt that until we spent that night here all those years ago. I know that we were not officially together then, but looking back, Paris started a process for us. I’d been head over heels for you from the start, but spending such an intimate time here, away from both our families and responsibilities; sleeping at your side for the first time and waking up next to you; having breakfast with you and getting to see you soft and sleepy in the morning - it all felt like a very elaborate dream, like something I’d never thought I’d be allowed to have.
And now I get to have it (almost) every day, with you. I still can’t believe it sometimes.
I love you more than I could ever express.
As you know, I’ve been to Paris quite a bit throughout the last few years for work, and each time I get to visit this beautiful city, all I see in every corner of this town is you, Alex. And that’s how I want to show it to you today, sweetheart. I want you to see these picturesque sights through my eyes, and I want you to know how you’re with me wherever I go.
I hope you are ready? Please take a shower and get dressed. Then, let Cash bring you to a beautiful little Boulangerie for breakfast. He knows where to go, and you will find my next message there.
Love,
Henry
Alex leaned back against the pillow, grinning as he took a minute to reread the letter, allowing himself to savour it. It’d been so long since Henry had written him anything - with them living together, there hadn’t been any need, really, and even when they were on separate continents due to their duties, they usually made a point to talk on the phone or text nowadays - but this was nice. This felt like the early days of their relationship, when they’d exchanged long, heartfelt emails, and Alex allowed himself to bathe in it for a moment. Then, he got out of bed and under the shower, figuring that it was in his best interest to follow Henry’s directions.
***
It turned out Cash was indeed in on Henry’s plan, whatever that was, and he led Alex down the street with a smug smile, not answering any of his charge’s pointed questions. It was a tiny bit frustrating, but then again, whatever Henry had planned, the surprise element was sure to be a part of it.
The bakery was only a couple of minutes walk from the hotel, and it seemed like the staff had already been expecting Alex. They smiled brightly when he entered the shop and grabbed a paper bag they had prepared from behind the counter, pressing it into his arms. When Alex tried to pay them, they refused. A bit stunned and thanking them clumsily in his crappy French, he left, glancing into the bag once he was back out on the street again.
There was a large variety of baked goods inside, from baguette to croissants to pain au chocolat and a box of macarons, and on top of it, there was another letter in Henry’s familiar stationary.
“Come on,” Cash grinned at him. “You can eat once we’re at your next destination.”
Alex raised his eyebrows at him but didn’t protest. Instead, he gestured for Cash to lead the way.
They walked for a couple more minutes until they reached the Seine, and Alex found himself recognising the familiar tourist spots around him. He could see Notre-Dame from afar, and the Louvre, and these bridges in front of him, though he did not know them by name, were sure to have been on half the postcards he’d come across.
Cash led him over one of those bridges, halfway across the Seine, and then they descended down towards a small garden near the water. There were a couple of other people around, but it still seemed early enough to not be too crowded. Cash found him a free bench and Alex sat, taking in the beautiful scenery - the artistically constructed garden, the water flowing around them, the city in the background. Finally, he reached into the bag and drew out Henry’s letter.
Alex,
welcome to Square du Vert-Galant. Did you know that this square was built as a tribute to Henri IV, or Henry the Great, and his mistresses? It amuses me every time I pass by here. Maybe I should present you with your own garden at the Thames? Then again, I’d doubt it would have the same effect, though at least, you are my official suitor. I am already ‘out-romancing’ Henri IV without even trying.
It still amazes me that we made it this far. Generations of royals all over the world were forced to marry for political gain and love in silence and yet, here I am, allowed to love you publicly. It’s a miracle I am grateful for each day. I am grateful for you each day, my love, for making me fight for this, and for making me believe that there was something better for me out there.
Please enjoy your breakfast and maybe, you will find joy reflecting in how much history has changed since Henri IV, as well.
Love,
Your Very Own Henry
Alex was smiling sappily by the time he had come to the end of the letter, drawing a tender thumb over Henry’s signature. He looked up at Cash sheepishly.
“How many more of these can I expect?” he asked.
“Just eat your breakfast and stop asking questions,” Cash laughed, shaking his head.
Alex chuckled and did just that.
***
Next, Cash walked Alex to another bridge just across from the little garden where Alex had had his breakfast. There, he handed him his next letter, and Alex grinned as he leaned against the railings to read it.
Alex,
this is the Pont des Arts, or more famously known as the Love Lock Bridge. It’s become a recent tradition to fix engraved locks with names of yourself and your loved one onto the railing and drop the key into the Seine. It is now officially banned by the government, for the weight of the locks was a danger to the foundations of the bridge, and the keys littered the water. Some people still do it, as you can see, and every time I’m here, I laugh at the thought of how this whole thing would infuriate you.
You won’t believe it, but one of my favourite memories about the time before we became more than friends was actually your Thanksgiving Turkey Call. Apart from the fact that you distracted me from my insomniac brooding with your charming, manic self, I have always adored your passion. How could I ever not have fallen for the boy who insisted that menacing prehistoric predators sleep in his room to save state budget, and who didn't even consider the factor that he was truly afraid of them?
I want you to never lose that fire, darling. The world will always try to beat you down, but you are good and special and I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will always be here to love and support you, and to take your after-midnight Turkey Emergency Calls.
Yours (in an attempt at being romantic without endangering precious landmarks),
Henry
Alex was laughing to himself by the time he had reached the end of the letter. God, he’d almost forgotten about the Turkey incident. Not one of his finest moments, admittedly - and yet, Henry seemed to remember it fondly, which really, should probably tell Alex all about their relationship, he reflected. Because which sane person would deal with Alex in such a state and enjoy it? Obviously, the poor boy was out of his mind with love.
Alex turned to rest his elbows against the railing, looking out over the city. It was funny, he thought, how Henry often picked out his most quirky traits and twisted them into something positive. Alex had always tried to contain himself a bit in front of everyone who wasn’t family or Nora, had deep down known that his whole personality just tended to be too much for most, but Henry just seemed to revere exactly those layers he tended to keep hidden. It made Alex feel light and free in a way nothing else ever had, this unconditional acceptance of who he was.
At long last, Alex glanced at Cash once more, who was standing a safe distance away, giving him some privacy. “So,” he asked. “Where to next?”
“Follow me,” Cash smiled.
***
They walked for about ten minutes along the outer borders of the Latin Quarter and Alex, history nerd through and through, let himself be distracted by the ancient buildings around him and the scenic atmosphere.
At long last, the streets gave away to a grand palace (making Alex wonder idly just how many palaces Paris had? Then again, as the boyfriend of British royalty, maybe he would do best to shut up lest he’d be rightfully lynched). He looked at Cash a bit unsurely, who had tensed just so in the face of all the tourists milling around now that the hour was more moderate.
“Where are we?” Alex asked.
“Luxembourg Palace and Gardens,” Cash answered. “It’s the French Senate.”
“Oh,” Alex’s eyes rose, looking up to take in the building. “Nice.”
“We’re going through to the gardens,” Cash said, stirring him towards the gates, sure to keep close to him. Alex wasn’t too worried, though. A couple of people glanced at him, but most seemed too preoccupied with their own sightseeing to pay much attention to the celebrity in their midst. And even if someone came up to him, he’d snap a few photos and be on his way.
The gardens behind the castle were indeed quite a sight: people were picnicking on the grass, sitting on the benches or taking a walk along the alleyways; flowers were blooming in their beds and there was a large circular fountain in the heart of the scenery. Alex fell into step with Cash, taking everything in, only looking up when Cash held another letter under his nose. With a smile, Alex took the letter, opening it to read.
Alex,
in Les Miserables, Marius and Cosette meet at the Luxembourg Gardens. They make eye contact for the first time and she falls in love with him - which is something I can deeply relate to. I still remember how deeply shook I was the first time I laid eyes on you at the Olympics.
Maybe I can use the words of the Les Mis author Victor Hugo to express it:
“The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.”
I remember doubting, before I met you, that love would even exist for me, not to mention that love at first sight was something that could happen in real life, rather than only in our most treasured love stories. But you, Alex, proved me wrong on both accounts. I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, and I’m sure I’ll love you till the moment I die.
Before I let you enjoy a walk in these beautiful gardens, let me tell you a fun fact about who was responsible for their creation: They were built in 1611 on behalf of Marie de Medici, who was the widow of Henri IV - again, dear Henri pops up, doesn’t he? The Palace was built in imitation of the Pitti Palace in her native Florence, and it’s now used as the French Senate. Of course, I can’t send you on a tour through Paris without sprinkling in some political sights, now can I?
I know things aren’t always going to be easy, but please know how proud I am of you for going after your ambitions. You will make a brilliant politician, and you will make the world a better place. I will be with you every step of the way.
Congratulations again on graduating law school, love, and good luck on the next phase of your plan, once you decided how it’s going to look like.
Love,
Your Cosette Henry
Alex felt warm all over as he folded up the letter, putting it safely into his pocket with the others. He continued walking alongside Cash in silence, taking in the sight of the ancient palace, Henry’s words echoing in his head.
“You want to move on?” Cash checked.
“No,” Alex grinned. “Let’s walk a bit more. I like it here.”
***
Cash had a car waiting for them to get to their next destination, which was back at the Seine, and another bridge. This one was remarkably more extravagant in terms of architecture, though, and as they got out of the car and walked onto the bridge, Alex took a moment to just admire the antique design of the lamplights, the gold on the railings and the beautiful, intricate sculptures.
When Cash pushed the next letter at him, Alex’s fingers were already twitching in anticipation.
Alex,
this is my favourite bridge in Paris - the Pont Alexandre III. Too on the nose? No, but I promise it’s not (just) my favourite bridge because it has your name in it!
I just love the architecture of it. It’s by far the most ornate and beautiful bridge in the city. It was actually a gift from Tsar Nicholas II in 1896 to honour the Franco-Russian Alliance. The bridge was named after his father, Tsar Alexander III.
It was also used for countless scenes in pop culture. Knowing you, you’ll be familiar with it from Adele’s “Someone Like You” Music Video, but that’s not what I’d like to use as an example - much too wistful for us. Rather, because I loved it as a child and because it at least leans on Russian culture, I’ll refer to the animated movie “Anastasia” from the ’90s. I’m not sure if you ever watched it, but if you did, the climax was set on this very bridge. Anastasia rose up to defeat Rasputin and decided to give up a life as a Romanov to be with the man she loved, and that, as a small boy, shook me deeply. My grandma hated me watching the movie - she went as far as taking the DVD away from me, but my father bought a new one because I cried for days. I was four, I think?
I still have that DVD.
I’m sure when we sat there at Buckingham Palace after our relationship had leaked, defying her will, my grandmother couldn’t help but remember that bloody DVD and cursing American pop culture and their ungodly influence. Who would have thought I’d be stood in front of my family at some point, fighting for the man I loved, ready to abdicate if they weren’t going to let me be with him? Maybe she had always known it, and that’s why she had banned “Anastasia” from our home. Good thing my father had never listened to her.
Speaking of my father, he, too, once shot a movie here. One of his Bond installments took him here. So this is a special place in more than one way.
I’m sure he would be proud of the life we live, Alex. Looking back over the years, I’m more and more certain that he knew I was gay, or in the very least, that I was different from Philip, and not meant for the life he was living. So maybe, his sneaking me back the DVD was a way of him giving me his blessing - of him telling me that no matter what life I decided to live, he would be okay with it.
It’s what I want to believe.
Yours forever,
Henry
Alex’s eyes were wet by the time he had reached the end of his letter this time. Even after all these years, Henry rarely spoke about his father - that he was bringing him up now, like this, really said a lot about how much Henry was opening up to him through these letters.
Alex’s fingers traced the railing of the bridge and he closed his eyes. “I’m going to take good care of him,” he promised, under his breath. “Don’t you worry about it.”
He lingered on the bridge for a long time, staring unseeingly into the direction of the Eiffel Tower, and Cash did not push him to move on.
***
When they reached their next destination, it was already well into the afternoon. Alex had had some more of the leftover pastries and Cash had made a quick stop in between to get some cheese to go with the baguette - cheese and bread, because Alex was nothing if not cliché when he was abroad - so when he got out of the car, he was well strengthened for what awaited him.
Instead of the picturesque Seine or the Latin Quarter, he was faced with a residential area. He frowned at Cash, but the other just smiled and gestured for Alex to follow him.
Eventually, they came across a small square with benches and plants, facing the wall of an apartment complex. Said wall had large, black tiles fixed to it, and there was writing all over them - as Alex stepped closer, he found that it was short sentences in many different languages. He stared, his eyes travelling over the writing for a long time, until his eyes zeroed in on a language he understood - right on the top, towards the right, he could make out: ‘Te amo.’
It dawned on him, then, and he smiled as he looked at the writing once more, trying to figure out the language, looking for familiar ones. The French version was right in the middle. He found the other Spanish version - ‘ Te quiero’ - before he finally found English, which seemed to almost get lost in the middle of it all.
Eventually, Alex looked up to accept the letter Cash was already holding out to him. He sat down on a free bench to read it.
Alex,
I hope you enjoyed the little scavenger hunt I prepared for you, for this is my last letter. I have brought you to Le Mur des Je t’aime, The Wall of Love. It’s was created in 2000 by the artists Fédéric Baron and Claire Kito, and displays 300 versions of the phrase ‘I love you’ in 250 languages and dialects. I thought this was a good last stop seeing that, while we may speak the same language, our heritage has always been a huge part of who we are, as people and as a couple.
When I first came here, Alex, I did not look for English, as a priority. I spent the most time looking for Spanish. I know you tend to joke about the fact that me dating a POC is a nightmare to the Crown, but Alex, I don’t ever want you to let anything my grandmother or any stupid Brexit trolls might say get to you.
Te amo porque eres tú: Americano, Mexicano, especial y brillante.
Te amaré para siempre.
Con cariño,
Henry
PS: There is one more destination for you. I will see you there.
Alex smiled softly as his eyes traced over the last paragraph again and again.
I love you because you’re you: American, Mexican, special and brilliant.
I'll love you forever.
Finally, Alex looked up at Cash, quite done with being apart from Henry for the day.
“Bring me to him,” he said, and Cash nodded with a fond smile.
***
It turned out that Henry was waiting for him at the small café right around the corner from their hotel, the one where they had spent the evening at all those years ago. He grinned when he spotted his boyfriend sitting at that very same table, a bottle of red already prepared.
“You romantic shit,” Alex greeted him as he approached, and Henry looked up, his smile sheepish.
“I’m sorry?” he tried, getting to his feet.
“Don’t you dare apologise!” Alex warned, pulling him into a deep kiss as soon as he was close enough to touch. Henry hummed against his lips, his arms wrapping around Alex’s waist. When Alex pulled back just enough to look into Henry’s blue eyes, he breathed: “Those letters, Hen - honestly, what did I do to deserve such treatment? Did I forget our anniversary or something?”
“You didn’t forget anything,” Henry smiled. “I just wanted to do something for you, now that you’re finally free of course work, essays and presentations.”
“You’re incredible,” Alex shook his head, grinning as he pressed another kiss to his lips. “I fucking love you, you know that?”
“I love you, too,” Henry whispered, his gaze intense. “You don’t know how much.”
Alex cocked his head to the side and asked: “Baby?”
“Actually,” Henry said, sticking his chin out in the way he did when he found the courage to press forward with something, “your surprise isn’t over yet.”
“Oh?” Alex asked, blinking.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Henry suggested, and Alex did so hesitantly, his eyes on Henry all the time. Henry did not move, and his hand fumbled with the pocket of his blazer jacket, disappearing inside, withdrawing again, then diving back in.
Finally, he cleared his throat and then, in one swift movement, Henry lowered himself onto one knee in front of Alex, and Alex -
Well, Alex's brain short-circuited. He just stared dumbly as Henry drew out a ring box - a fucking ring box , as if it hadn’t already been clear what was happening, and really, Alex was quite sure he wasn’t breathing - and then he caught Alex’s eyes.
“Alex,” he began, and his voice was trembling just a little. “Sweetheart - you know me. I’m better in writing than I am with spoken words, which is part of why I wanted to get my feelings written out before we got to this part. Nothing I come up with ever feels like enough for how much you mean to me, and how much I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can just pray and hope that somehow, my feelings translate and that you feel the same. Living with you these past years has been… like something out of a dream, and I never want it to stop. So, Alex… will you marry me?”
He opened the ring box to reveal a silver band, simple and adjourned with a straight row of three diamonds through the middle. Classy and masculine, not too simple and yet not too flashy - it was clear that Henry had taken his time looking for something that would fit Alex’s taste.
Alex only realised there were tears in his eyes when his vision of Henry got blurry. He tried to blink them away, but it didn’t work, and then he thought, fuck it - his own Prince Charming was proposing to him, who could begrudge him a couple of tears, right?
“I can’t believe you have to ask,” Alex scoffed, sending Henry a watery smile. “ Of course it’s a yes, you fucking moron, oh my God.” Henry’s answering smile was blinding and Alex leaned forward to reach out for him. “Get up here,” he muttered. “I need to kiss you right now, I swear -”
This was how far he got before their lips met in a desperate kiss and faintly, Alex registered applause around them. Right, so they had been recognised. Alex couldn’t care less. He just kept kissing Henry, overwhelmed by the sheer happiness he felt.
He’d decided long ago that Henry and he were forever, but now, it was official that he got to keep him, and that felt amazing.
When they came up for air again, Henry reached out to wipe away a couple of stray tears that had escaped him with tender fingers. “Can I put on your ring?” Henry breathed, sounding like he was trying to suppress how giddy he felt. It made Alex smile.
“Go wild,” he answered, and Henry pulled the ring from the box and reached out for Alex’s left hand. His touch was gentle as he pushed the band onto his ring finger - Alex watched the process for a moment, then he looked up at Henry’s face, watching the soft look on his face as he performed the act. He looked so happy , and Alex’s heart ached. At last, the ring sat past the second knuckle, a perfect fit, and Henry met his eyes again, positively glowing.
Alex couldn’t help but kiss him again. He thought someone was snatching photos somewhere, but he couldn’t find it in him to be annoyed. Let Cash and Shaan, who was most definitely lingering around somewhere, take care of that. This was theirs , and short of a hurricane, he was not going to stop kissing his fiancé.