[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]

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."

[tiltingwithlips]

"'Tis so," Kate says softly. "We three are of a kind, my lord. Will you ascend the throne?"

[valiantrebel]

Hal rakes his hair with his fingers, until they hit the edge of the crown. He plucks it off his head and holds it, feeling the weight again.

"My father will not live forever," he says.

Harry snorts, loudly.

Hal glares. "How, then, did you keep it so secret, Lady Percy?"

Though not secret enough, and that worries him too.

[tiltingwithlips]

Very dry: "Long practice, sir. I was bitten in my eleventh year. But I had not a king's power at my disposal. You've kept it secret for these several months, have you not?"

[valiantrebel]

"It is not so long," he says ruefully. "And I have a well known habit of disappearing into the world when I am needed."

Harry looks deeply unimpressed. "Shalt thou still claim thou'rt in Cheapside when thou'rt king?"

"I have no Northumbrian waste to vanish into when I may. If that is where you have been." Hal crooks an eyebrow. "How is your rebel father?"

"We're not here to talk of the earl," says Harry, gripping his hilt again.

[tiltingwithlips]

"Nay," Kate says, very sharp, "we are not. I think it far more pressing that we speak of what you are -- and all the more if you are to take the throne, for soon you'll have no leave to disappear as you were wont to do."

[valiantrebel]

"What I am!" Hal shakes his head. "Name me prince, heir, scapegrace, any of a thousand ill things before you name me creature, monster, less a soul, less than human. What shall we speak of, lady? What canst thou have to say to me, who art the mother of this outrage?"

At once, Harry grabs Hal's sleeve. "Mind thy tongue, Prince of Wales or no."

[tiltingwithlips]

"Think'st thou I would risk myself and risk my lord again to come to thee and name thee monster?" Kate asks, her brows drawing down. "I, who have borne the name before? I tell thee, sir, I come because thou speakest sooth: 'tis of me that this coil is born, and as I am a lady -- as I am a Percy -- I will not shy from duty that comes with it."

She takes a deep breath. "If that be but to beg thy pardon, 'tis done. I crave it. But if I may help you -- as thou art my cousin in this -- then so I would."

[valiantrebel]

Hal has been watching her speak with a kind of wounded, searching look, for which Harry has little patience. His senses are keyed in to another threat, though: the hairs stand on the back of his neck, and he goes stiff with listening.

"Kate," he says urgently, before the prince can reply. He nods toward the door: voices are echoing in the hallway -- one of them belonging to the king.

See, sons, what things you are! Henry shouts. Hal grows drawn, and clutches the crown to his chest.