[werewolf AU] A long night

[tiltingwithlips]

King Henry is ill, most likely dying, and the kingdom has known so for some time. For now, at least, the English are thinking more about succession than about rebellions, past or future.

The palace in London is still and quiet tonight. The air is heavy with tension, thick with the smell of worry.

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[valiantrebel]

Harry can hardly fathom how much has changed and passed since last he came here. He never thought to come skulking through back doors and shadows, but then, he never thought to navigate the palace and its guards by smell either.

There is sickness in the palace, though, and fretfulness. He glances at Kate, for all he can barely see her. She must be able to parse this better than him.

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate arguably has more experience skulking around inside castles, as well, but she's used to doing it on four legs, with a lower profile.

It has weighed on her, the past month or two, not knowing what happened to Prince Hal after Shrewsbury, and so she has been much in favor of this enterprise. Actually being here in the castle, though, is more nerve-wracking than she had expected.

At least her nose seems to be leading her aright. Kate takes Harry's hand as they come to an intersection of hallways and sniffs the air.

[valiantrebel]

He's never liked the palace, but he has some memory of the place. The throne room is still a ways, and the prince's quarters, he can only guess. The word has been that Prince Hal is avoiding Eastcheap and even his friend Ned Poins, though the palace has not seen much of him either. With the full moon tomorrow, time is more than usually of the essence.

Harry rests his other hand on his sword. Kate may guide them both, but he'll not relinquish his best means of defense.

[tiltingwithlips]

She leads the way to the right, moving slowly, her nostrils flaring. There don't seem to be any guards down this hallway, which doesn't seem right -- but surely that is the door to the throne room ahead, and surely she can smell the prince's scent in this hall.

[valiantrebel]

A small, displeased noise sounds in his throat. It is too quiet, too still -- if he didn't know better, he'd think this was an ambush.

"Hast thou found him?" he murmurs. He watches the corridors, checking for avenues of hasty escape if need be.

[tiltingwithlips]

She nods towards the throne room and picks up her pace.

[valiantrebel]

One fresh scent -- that must be him. Harry's heart begins to race, as it does when his temper rises. He trains his vision straight ahead and takes long, deep breaths. They've only one mission tonight, and it does not involve that.

[tiltingwithlips]

"Hush," she breathes as they reach the doors. She squeezes his hand once, then lets go to ease the door open.

[valiantrebel]

Hal told his brothers that he would watch the king; but he has said many things in his life, and though he cannot be called capricious, only he may truly know his own intentions, as he prefers.

The crown itself is heavier than he expects -- it always is. He bears it in front of him like a dowsing stick, and small wonder it has led him to the throne. With heavy heart and heavy thoughts, he lowers himself into the seat, and the weights upon his shoulders -- his father's death, the new terror -- press tears from him.

Something catches his attention, though, something he cannot miss, distracted as he is. He jerks upright and peers toward the door. The shapes there are dim, but -- but he knows two strangers have joined him.

"Who's there?"

His voice does not mean to waver so; he scrubs his eyes quickly and rises to his feet.

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate reaches out to catch Harry's hand, as a precaution.

"Sir."

Softly though she speaks, her voice still echoes.

[valiantrebel]

The bottom of Hal's stomach drops out: he'll admit it to himself, if to no one else.

"I prithee, phantom, speak again. For I swear I know that voice."

"As the Prince of Wales commands," Harry growls, and wrenches his hand out of Kate's.

Hal's eyes go wide as Harry strides into the light. "No, ghost, I killed thee!"

[tiltingwithlips]

"My lord!" Kate snaps, hurrying after Harry.

[valiantrebel]

"I cry your mercy, Kate." Harry draws his sword and storms toward the dais. "I professed that I should keep my temper before this villain, but some wrongs cannot be forgot!"

[tiltingwithlips]

"Harry!"

Now that is a snarl, and this close to the full moon, it sounds like it. Kate darts forward and grabs Harry by the arm.

"Will you raise the palace, you ox-headed fool?"

[valiantrebel]

Hal -- laughs, and hugs his elbows. "No counterfeit Hotspur, then. It is Harry Percy in the flesh."

Harry narrows his eyes. "If thou wert but armed, I'd prove it to thee a dozen times over."

"Then it is well I need not carry a sword in my own father's house." Kate he regards slantingly, almost cautiously. "Lady Percy."

[tiltingwithlips]

"Your Highness." She glances at the crown, and her eyes narrow. "Or do I mistake me?"

[valiantrebel]

If not now -- if his father merely slept upon his bed -- then soon enough.

"Treason heaped upon treason," he says instead. "What business can have brought you here? And what witchery can have saved thee from death, Percy?"

Harry says nothing. He doesn't have to: he's close enough to smell the prince. One look at Kate, why, that confirms it.

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate gives Harry a warning look, but lets go of his arm.

"A wolf chased you from the field of Shrewsbury, sir. Is't not so?"

[valiantrebel]

At that, Hal's eyes go wide, though not with fear -- not quite.

"No coyness, Lady Percy. Of any in this room, I need tell thee least of all!"

[tiltingwithlips]

That, to tell the truth, startles her; did her know her on the field? Did he know here before?

"And," she says, stepping forward, "you need not tell me that this same wolf bit you in your flight."

[valiantrebel]

"My boot was ruined," he says stiffly. "There was no wound when I took it off."

Harry stays planted, frowning. He is new at this yet, but surely he might trust himself so far as to know...

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate frowns and takes a discreet sniff of the air.

"Your highness, think what you will, but I would be glad of that if it be true."

[valiantrebel]

Hal comes down off the dais, his whole bearing stormy. "I do not care tuppence for your gladness -- the bite had healed before I undressed. I need not explain to thee what happened in my tent that night."

[tiltingwithlips]

If she had hackles, her bearing suggests that they would be up.

"My lord," she says, as evenly as she may, "believe me when I cry your pardon. Though I know not that I should -- it was a battlefield, and one of mine lay dying on the ground. I cannot think but that you, or my husband there, or any man would have done the same."

[valiantrebel]

"Thy good heart ascribes the prince too much, my lady." Harry does not draw his sword, but he does not take his hand off it either. "If the son of Henry Bolingbroke thought it well to leave anyone behind, he should do so, and throw honor to the devil."

"Will you speak so ill of my father when he lies so close to death?" Hal... almost looks sorry. "I had no heart to take thy life, Harry, for all that you sought to bring our kingdom down."

"I sought a king I might follow with my head held high," he snaps.

"Wilt thou let me prove one?"

Harry stops. "It cannot be." He laughs. "Thou'rt as we are, though I think it a true gift."