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It took nearly a week for everything to quiet down after they had left Suchdol behind. Many drinks were had, on their victory, on the future, and on their losses.
Hans never raised his glass with them when they drank on their future, something Henry could understand only too well.
Marriage was the last thing any of them would have thought of now, especially after–
Shaking his head to get rid of the pictures in his mind, Henry climbed out of his bed at the Devil's Den.
Hans was only a few steps away, still asleep as he often was when Henry got up.
Today, however, was different. Instead of sneaking out of the room and leaving his lord to sleep, Henry closed the distance between their beds, carefully shaking Hans awake.
“Time for our hunting trip, wake up. Before someone can stop us again.”
“Already?” Hans grumbled, barely opening his eyes to glance out the window. “The sun is barely rising!”
“As soon as it does the others will too. I already wrote a letter in case someone comes looking for us. You can have your beauty sleep later.”
“I beg your finest pardon, look at me, I don't need any more beauty. The wenches can barely keep their fingers off of me as is.”
Henry couldn't help but laugh. Shaking his head, he turned around to get dressed.
He had already put their necessities in the saddlebag last night, so as soon as they got to their horses they could hop on and ride off.
The war had left many places abandoned, including the small hut Henry had found. Hidden in a forest, with a small stream trickling by, and plenty of game for hunting.
It took a while to get there, but after being trapped in Suchdol for so long, a longer ride was exactly what they needed.
“How did you find this?” Hans asked, looking surprised at what he saw.
Tying the horses to a tree at the stream, Henry shrugged. “I was looking for herbs to brew my favourite schnapps and stumbled over it. It's quite comfortable for being so far off from everything.”
“So that's what you did while I was held prisoner? Brewing schnapps?”
“Brewing schnapps, chasing wenches, getting involved in things I should stay far away from,” Henry chuckled, “the usual.”
Turning around, he found Hans looking at him, his face unreadable, and Henry suddenly didn't know what else he was supposed to say.
This was the first time since Suchdol that they were alone. Truly alone, with nobody risking to burst into their room, or sit at their table.
“Henry, I–”
“How's that wound of yours? I promised to have a look at it.”
Hans breathed out, visibly swallowing his words. “It barely hurts anymore, though I think we'll need to change the bandages after hunting.”
“Then let's go hunting, and we'll take care of your bandages afterwards.”
Henry knew that they had to talk about what had happened, but it felt like a conversation best had under the stars, at a fire, with their bellies full of food.
Now was not the right time to discuss past sins; also, if they did, he'd hardly be able to focus on hunting anymore. The heavy feeling in his stomach also made him fear that he wouldn't be feeling hungry if he kept dwelling on it. Of all the things that would maybe worry Hans the most.
And the last thing Henry wanted was for him to worry.
Thankfully, hunting calmed his nerves.
Probably another calming effect was the fact that Hans didn't try to shoot a boar down with a regular arrow. Lessons were learned, something Henry couldn't help but comment on.
Hans shoved him into a bush for that, laughing loudly, not realising that it was a raspberry bush.
Henry was lucky that he was wearing sturdy clothes, otherwise no Marigold Decoction could have fixed the scratches and bleeding he'd have to suffer.
Fucking raspberries.
What did they need to be this prickly for?
They returned to their camp shortly before the sun was setting, giving them enough time to skin two rabbits and start a stew over the fire.
Washing up in the stream, Henry glanced at Hans who was getting out of his clothes, revealing bandages that had clearly seen better days.
“How long have you been wearing those?” Henry asked, holding back a curse. Wounds needed to be kept clean, that included the bandages.
“A couple of days, it's really not as bad as it looks,” Hans shrugged. “It's all healing nicely. And maybe, if I end up disfigured, my soon-to-be bride will call off the wedding.”
“You idiot! Do you really think it'll work like that?”
Henry was on his feet and by Hans's side before he even finished his sentence.
Carefully taking the bandage off, he cursed under his breath. The wound looked like it had gotten infected. The idiot was gambling with his life just to flee marriage. Knowing Hans's uncle, not even that would stop him from making the wedding happen.
“Jesus Christ Hans! This is stupid! Sit down, we have to clean this and give you something for the healing.”
“I didn't think it'd be this bad,” Hans said, quietly and without looking at Henry. “I cleaned it and then dressed it after the siege.”
Sighing, Henry buried his face in his hands. “Sit. I think I brought everything we'll need. If you don't get a fever by morning, we know it worked.”
Walking to his saddle bag, Henry fished everything out and immediately got to work. He cleaned the wound under Hans's deafening screeches, then put some herbs on it, and finally dressed it before making Hans drink one of his decoctions.
“We share a room, idiot. You could have told me to look at it sooner.”
Hans had the audacity to roll his eyes at him. “I really didn't think it would be this much of an issue, else I would have asked you to have a look.”
It was a special talent only Hans had. Infuriating Henry while also making him feel extremely protective over his noble arse.
“I thought we already made it clear that neither of us would know what to do if anything happened to the other,” Henry said defeatedly, using Hans's own words. “I need you to take better care of yourself, this could have ended very badly for you.”
“I don't want to get married off, Hal.” Hans said, looking absolutely miserable. “I thought now that we won the battle, and after what happened the night before you left—I thought we could—I don't know, enjoy life a little. Just us, like today.”
Henry sat down next to him, his heart heavy as sadness struck him like lightning. Reaching out, he took Hans's hand in his own. “There's still time. We don't even know when it'll happen. Maybe something else will come up, and we’ll have to leave on another mission.”
“Don't be silly, Hanush is already planning everything, it will happen soon. What if we have to say goodbye to each other? I already thought I'll never see you again the night you left to get reinforcements. I don't think I can do this a second time.”
Letting his thumb wander over Hans's hand, marvelling at the softness under his rough fingertip, Henry tried sorting through his thoughts and feelings to find the right words. “The only thing I could think of in Suchdol was getting back to you,” he finally said quietly. “I climbed down that wall and my whole body was longing to be back in your embrace. I knew failure was not an option. If they had caught me, I would have taken down what was left of Sigismund's army all by myself just to get back to you. Hanush won't be able to keep me from you, no matter what he plans and how grand your wedding will be. I am yours, Hans. Now and forever, in body, soul, and heart. For everyone else, I'll be the most loyal squire they have ever seen. For you I'll be everything you'll ask, and more.”
Hans stayed quiet for a while, squeezing Henry's hand hard. Until finally: “Run away with me, Henry. Please.”