[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]

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.

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate's eyes widen.

Without another word for Hal, she grabs Harry's arm and drags him towards one of the darkly shadowed corners.

[valiantrebel]

They're not really gone -- Hal can -- he can smell them. Hotspur and his wife, in a room with the king and the prince, undetected -- he must give them up, he must --

The doors are flung open. King Henry, with a fire in his eye that Hal has not seen since before Shrewsbury, marches toward him like a nightmare. "Now, where is he that will not stay so long till his friend sickness hath determined me?"

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate's eyes widen in alarm as more people enter the room. Oh, this was a bad idea.

Her grip is white-knuckles tight on Harry's hand.

[valiantrebel]

If he's putting himself between Kate and the court, that is instinct inborn, not made.

Hal seems too dismayed to keep his feet. "I never thought to hear you speak again!" he insists, at which the king launches into a desperate and furious tirade.

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate rests her forehead on Harry's shoulder and tries to breathe evenly and silently, to still her fear -- and, as the king rants at the prince, to ignore her shame. This is no thing for them to watch and be privy to.

[valiantrebel]

At one time, Harry might have found pleasure in seeing the wayward prince so dressed down, even to see Hal as roughly handled as he and his father and uncle had been. He gets no joy of it, though, nor of seeing King Henry totter and rail.

Yet the prince rallies suddenly; he stands and pleads not only his innocence, but his honor, and a sea-change in his heart. Harry's side twinges. He cannot trust such honeyed nonsense, but the king... the king's face empties of rage and fear before them.

Harry takes stock of the rest of the chamber: Warwick, the princes, other guards... there must be a back entrance, if the room does not empty.

[tiltingwithlips]

That, or they're going to have to rely on Hal's clemency.

Wonderful.

[valiantrebel]

As King Henry keeps rambling on, pulling Hal close and wandering about the throne, Harry knits his brow. Something about his smell has changed: it's become sour and dense. He looks to Kate, alarmed.