#kingsman stocking stuffer
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anarchycox · 6 years ago
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Merlin is turned into a cat
that’s really all you need to know
@eggsyobsessed enjoy
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zebraljb · 6 years ago
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Kingsman (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Merlin/Gary “Eggsy” Unwin, Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin/Gary “Eggsy” Unwin Characters: Merlin (Kingsman), Gary “Eggsy” Unwin, Harry Hart | Galahad Additional Tags: Flirting, Crushes Series: Part 4 of Christmas Stockings 2019 Summary:
PROMPT - Merhartwin with established Hartwin/Merwin and they decide together to court the odd man out. Bonus points if you can write it so that Eggsy and Harry/Merlin both fall hard for the odd man out but don’t realize they have a crush on the same man until they go to sneakily show their partner who it is.
(so I sorta missed the “they decide together to court him” part, but there’s no cheating)
Eggsy and Merlin are casually looking for a third in their relationship. They both have a bit of a crush on a man they meet in a bar, not realizing they’re crushing on the same man.
AU but not AU. Harry owns a bar, but Eggsy & Merlin are Kingsmen.
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soldierwinters · 7 years ago
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Hartwin x Sappy Romance
“Hey.” You say to me. I pick my head up while staring longingly at you. “You’re beautiful.” you say, with that huge goofy smile all over your face. God, I love it when you smile like that. “Thank you.” was all I could manage to say, as I got lost in your eyes, so mesmerized, falling so deep into something that I never even saw coming.
A @kingsmansecretsanta stocking stuffer for @riddleblack246. You requested a hartwin x sappy romance. I’m not sure if this is actually what you wanted but I kinda died of diabetes while doing this so thank you. LOL
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elletromil · 7 years ago
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Love is alive
This is a little something for @elrhiarhodan who had the following prompt for the Stocking Stuffers held by @kingsmansecretsanta
For the mission, Eggsy can seduce and be seduced with the best of the Kingsman (he can also talk a good game), but he's really a romantic asexual.  Either Harry or Merlin, or Harry and/or Merlin find out.  Angst and happiness ensues.
I hope the fact I’ve used some of the Statesman doesnïżœïżœt stop you from enjoying the story!
Love is alive
If there is one thing Merlin appreciates about agent Whiskey, it’s that she doesn’t beat around the bush about anything. Thanks to her previous tenure as Ginger, she understands that time is a precious commodity and Merlin has better things to do than to wait around for people to tell them what they want or need.
Of course, that’s not the only thing he appreciates about the woman, but if he had to pick only one that would probably it.
A close second would be that she doesn’t hesitate giving a hand every time she stops by his domain.
Kingsman isn’t really to sent anyone on missions quite yet, even if they do keep an eye on things locally. So having Whiskey’s help with the computers and logistics of building back the HQ from the ground up is a blessing. He’s still not sure what he can do to pay Champ back for sending both Whiskey and Tequila to help them with their undertaking.
Not that Tequila is doing much of anything right now, but he’s a good distraction for Eggsy while Roxy and Percival heal from their respective injuries, Harry is figuring out how to run a tailor shop and a distillery and himself and Whiskey are trying to have them up and running in the spy business in as little time as possible.
He’s not even jealous of how close Eggsy and Tequila have grown because for one, Eggsy owes him nothing, and for two, you would have to be brain dead not to notice how hopelessly devoted to each other Whiskey and Tequila were.
Which is why he isn’t really surprised by Whiskey’s words one afternoon while they are attempting to beat some wiring into submission.
“I know we’re here to help out, but you won’t be sending Tequila on any honeypot mission.”
“Ok.” His answer is short, but really, they don’t need to discuss more than this. They aren’t in the habit of sending unwilling agents to honeypots. Kingsman might be morally grey at best considering the business they deal in, but they do take care of their own. Forcing an agent take on a mission they aren’t ready for is the worst crime Merlin could possibly commit in his opinion.
That’s why Roxy only ever goes when the mark is a woman, why Percival hasn’t been on one since the previous Lancelot’s death.
Whiskey seems a bit thrown off by his easy acceptance, as if she had been bracing herself for some verbal sparring, but after staring at him, she must see something in his expression that reassures her, because she nods.
“Good. I told Jason he shouldn’t worry, that you probably have an understanding with Eggsy that he wasn’t privy to.”
That makes him look away from the wiring again, looking at her with confusion. What does this have to do with Eggsy? Sure, like all of the Knights, he hadn’t been too pleased about going after Clara, but it had also been the first honeypot he had done. And if Eggsy hadn’t wanted to do it, they would have found another way.
Merlin thinks there must have been a different plan in place if Tequila was the original agent Champ wanted to send. Something longer and more difficult to achieve most likely, but Merlin would have used it rather than do anything that would force an agent into something that truly went against their personal comfort zones. After all, the work of a handler wasn’t only to make sure their agent would come back safely, it was also to know when not to sent said agent into a situation they weren’t equipped to deal with.
But Eggsy had never said anything about honeypots and any potential unwillingness to do them. Of course, he had never been sent on one before Poppygeddon, but Merlin had asked him upon his Knighting if there was anything he should know that could compromise any mission and had been very clear that Eggsy could come to him at any time to change the notes in his files.
To his knowledge, nothing has really changed since then.
They’ve grown closer in their shared grief for Harry’s loss, but nowhere near close to what Tequila and Whiskey seem to share. At least not yet. And anyway, he’s never cared about what agents did on their mission. He’s handled countless of Harry’s own honeypots and if they’ve had many arguments over the year, this has never come up in them.
He’s rather shocked that it’s not the same way for Tequila and Whiskey. Their relationship seems secure enough from his point of view.
“Don’t take Tequila’s worries the wrong way.” She adds after a while without turning to look at him, but still sensing his confusion and somehow mistaking it for Merlin being offended. “He hasn’t really worked with you yet and it’s hard for him to trust people, even when I vouch for them. That, and he forgets that asexuality is a spectrum and not everyone identifying to it is sex repulsed. And that not everyone is an asshole who would dismiss one’s sexuality for the good of a mission.” With the disgust she says that last, it’s obvious that there is a story there, but she turns back to their work before he can ask.
Not that he would, because he’s stuck on the first part of her little speech. There is no mistaking her meaning and it’s a revelation he doesn’t know what to do with.
Not that Tequila and Eggsy are aces, he couldn’t care less for that.
But that Eggsy has never trust him enough to tell him
 He’s afraid he’s failed the lad horridly.
“Whiskey, would you mind finishing that up? I need to find Arthur and discuss some pressing matters.”
She has already immersed herself in the work because she simply hums and waves him off dismissively.
If he wasn’t in such a hurry to speak with Harry, he would take a moment to appreciate her wonderfully one-side tracked mind.
*
“Did you know Eggsy was ace?”
Harry sighs when Merlin bursts into his office without knocking first, or even a simple greeting. He doesn’t mind the distraction of course, but good manners have never killed anyone.
“Hello Merlin, always a pleasure to have you dro-” His brain suddenly catches up with his ears and the rest of his sentence gets lost. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Eggsy, did you know he was ace? As in asexual.” Merlin adds as if his confounded look has anything to do with terminology.
“I know what ace is, I just-” words fail him once more, but it doesn’t seem to bother Merlin, who just drops on the armchair in front of Harry’s desk. There is distress in his eyes that he wishes he could soothe away, but he needs to process the bombshell that’s been dropped just now first.
It’s a bit hard to believe at first, that Eggsy could be ace. He’s sure he hasn’t imagined the chemistry that has been there between them since day one or the one that has developed between Merlin and him while they thought Harry was dead. The chemistry that is still there between the three of them since their reunion, the chemistry that has not even been altered by the knowledge that Harry and Merlin have been an item for nearly as long Eggsy has been alive.
If anything, Eggsy had seem to become even more comfortable in their presence after they had confided in him about their relationship. And maybe they hadn’t clearly stated their intention to court him, but surely Harry had not imagined how Eggsy would seek their touch much more freely and offer his in return without a second thought?
But now that he really takes the time to truly think about it, there has indeed been something missing from Eggsy when compared to all the other lovers they have taken in their time. Something that was easy to miss when for once what binds them all together is an unshakable trust and a profound love.
Eggsy has never look at them with desire in his eyes. Never sought to aroused it in them either.
In fact, now that he truly thinks about it, Harry cannot understand how they haven’t realised it before.
“How did we miss it?” He sounds dismayed and he doesn’t even tries to hide it. Not that he would have been successful if he had tried anyway, not with Merlin.
“He’s good at hiding what he doesn’t want people to know.”
He’s right, but that’s no excuse and judging from Merlin’s pained expression, he feels the exact same way Harry does. They’re bloody spies for fuck’s sake, they should have figured it out way before. Their only saving grace it that they had both agreed to woo Eggsy slowly and thus, they’ve probably not forced anything on the boy he would have been uncomfortable with.
But it hurts to think Eggsy hadn’t trust them enough to tell them. That maybe he thought they would treat him any differently if they know.
Not that Harry is foolish enough to think it’s a revelation that will change nothing between them, but it won’t be anything vital. They’ll just change their expectation of getting him into bed for some fantastic sex to some lazy cuddling. If that is something Eggsy is interested in.
His heart clenches at the thought that maybe they truly misread everything about Eggsy’s feelings for them. That maybe he only thinks of them as dear friends and they’ve twisted his fondness into something he will find disgusting.
“We need to talk to him.” He forces the words out before he can think of darker scenarios.
There’s no use making any decision now, not without Eggsy’s input. Maybe Harry and Merlin’s true feelings will revolt him, but he deserves to know and make his own choice. And if he wants nothing more to do with them
 They’ll have to accept it.
“Aye, that we do.” Merlin agrees after a moment, but neither of them move from their seats, unwilling to face the harsh reality yet.
*
Since they’ve come back to London after saving the world twice in so many years, Eggsy usually has dinner with Harry and Merlin. Which isn’t really surprising considering he’s taken over their guest room until he finds a place of his own.
Not that he is in any hurry for that and neither are Merlin and Harry for that matter. At least he doesn’t think.
Because while he’s the first to admit that sometime the intricacies of interpersonal relationship fly ten feet above his head, he doesn’t think he’s wrong in thinking that he’s more than welcomed into their privacy. For one, neither have alluded to how Eggsy really should have found a place by now if he was really looking and for two
 For two, there has been far too many fond looks and lingering touches from both men to believe he’s somehow misunderstood what they want.
He knows of course that they probably want a bit more than he does, but it’s nothing that he’s unwilling to give them. He think he would probably enjoy the sex more with them than with anyone else, if only because he loves them so damn much. Or maybe it’s his naivety talking, his desire to believe in happy endings.
But how can he do otherwise after observing just how happy Tequila and Whiskey are together? Is it so wrong to hope that, like Tequila, he can find someone who will accept him like he is and never tries to change him?
Of course, for that to happen he would have to confide in both Merlin and Harry first, but it’s easier to say than to do. And the more time he spends in their company, the more he basks in their pride in him and the gentle touches they bestow upon him, the more he thinks that maybe, they don’t really need to know.
It wouldn’t change anything anyway. What he’s willing to do for a mission, he’s willing to do for the men he’s fallen in love with.
Unfortunately, things never truly goes his way, not when it comes to his personal life. So he really shouldn’t have been surprised to come home for dinner one night, only to find Harry and Merlin waiting for him in the living room, looking grimmer than they’ve ever been.
For a second, he thinks that it’s Kingsman-related, but they wouldn’t be home if it were.
“Eggsy, we have to talk.”
Those words are never about anything good and for a second, Eggsy nearly turns back and leaves. But whatever this is about there is no escaping this, not really.
Instead he takes a seat in front of them, resisting the impulse to sit next to them like he usually does. He doubts it will be of any comfort tonight, not with their closed-off expression.
“What’s up?” He asks when the silence stretches far too long even if he has some doubts as to what this is about. They’ve probably realised just how much he cares about them, just how much he gets out of simply being with them, and they’ve figured out it’s not something they actually want.
It sucks, because Eggsy had been sure they all had an understanding of some sort, but apparently he was mistaken.
Still as long as he can salvage their friendship, Eggsy can learn to live with the heartbreak.
“We need you to be honest with us lad,” it’s weird to hear Merlin sounds so hesitant, when he’s used to the man being his port in a storm, used to him being so unwaveringly confident. But there is no denying that something has rattled him and Eggsy’s stomach twist unpleasantly at the thought that the something could be them having figure out his true feelings. That they feel so differently about him that he would make them feel uncomfortable.
Before he can continue on that line of thought however, Harry finally starts speaking.
“It has come to our attention that you’re probably
 Ace.”
For a long time Eggsy can only stare at the two men, at a loss for words.
Not because it’s not true, but because he doesn’t understand how they could have find out about it.
As far as he’s concerned, only Jason is in the know and he cannot think of any reason his friend would betray his confidence.
“Please forgive us if it wasn’t something you weren’t ready to share with us,” he hates how formal Harry sounds now, as if they are strangers or simple coworkers, but he still hasn’t found his voice again. “And if it wasn’t for the recent developments, we would be happy to pretend like we don’t know until you’re ready to tell us on your own. But
 but Eggsy, darling, we need to know.”
At his side, Merlin nods in agreement and Eggsy can see how his knuckles has turned white where he grips the edge of the sofa he’s sitting on, as if he’s keeping himself from reaching out. Their impassive masks have cracked by now and he can only read worry in their eyes and something he cannot quite read. It looks like fear or maybe disgust, but it’s not aimed at him.
“When we invited you to stay home with us, we only wanted you to have a safe place. I won’t pretend it was also from a selfish desire to keep you close to us, but we would never force you into anything you don’t want to be a part of. Not knowingly.”
It clicks suddenly what the other emotion is. Self-loathing. No wonder it took him so long to place, when Harry and Merlin have never shown guilt or shame for the things they have been forced to do in their line of work.
But apparently, the thought that they might have hurt him or make him uncomfortable is completely unbearable to them and Eggsy simply cannot stay away from them any longer.
It’s not the first time they’ve hugged, not even the first time they’ve been huddled on the sofa together, but it’s the first time the two other men hesitate before wrapping him in their arms in return. His heart clench painfully at the thought that maybe whatever it is that was between them is irremediably broken now because of his secret.
But when they realise that their touch is welcomed, Harry and Merlin pull him closer so that he’s sitting properly between them and their hands all but cling to his polo shirt.
He hides his face against Merlin’s chest for a moment, feels Harry’s cheek come to on top of his head and he feels so safe and loved that he doesn’t want to move ever again.
But they’ve asked him a question and it is high time he answer.
“Yeah, I’m
 I’m ace.” It’s weird saying it out loud for the first time. Even during his talks with Jason about it, he’s never really been able to say the word. Not to describe himself at least. “And you haven’t force me into anything I didn’t want. You haven’t even kissed me yet!”
It’s a good thing he’s still hiding, because he can feel his cheeks heat up after his little outburst. It’s not that he’s ashamed about wanting to kiss them, but they surely didn’t need to know how much he wants that.
“And we won’t if it’s not something you want.” Harry replies, completely missing his point.
Eggsy leans away from them a bit, not escaping their embrace but far away enough he could look at them and make his dismay entirely clear.
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I want that?” Especially after the few times he’s caught Harry and Merlin kissing, it’s practically the only thing he can think of since he’s got no mission to distract him from his fantasies.
“We wouldn’t want to presume what you’re comfortable with or not.”
“Kissing is fine trust me. More than fine even.” He has fond memories of intense snogging session with his girlfriends when he was younger and figuring things out about himself. He very much want to create such memories with the two men. “And everything else is
 Okay too.”
He could totally do without, would actually prefer it that way, but he’s sure that with Harry and Merlin, it would be enjoyable. They would make sure of it.
Or maybe not, because they both look absolutely appalled at the idea.
“No, Eggsy, we meant what Harry said. We don’t want to force you into anything you aren’t comfortable with. If you don’t want to have sex, we won’t, it’s that simple.”
“Oh.” There’s unmistakable relief rushing through him, but also a hint of disappointment. “I was kind of looking forward to watching you two together though.”
He’s blurt out the words before he could stop them and his cheeks are so hot he could probably cook an egg on them now.
Merlin and Harry both look surprised, but Harry recovers quickly, and he gives gets that calculating look Eggsy knows can only mean good things are in his future.
They say nothing else for a long time, Merlin tugging on Eggsy’s sleeve until he goes back to leaning against them and he lets himself bask in the knowledge that this is truly something they all want. That it isn’t simply a nice fantasy anymore.
“The same goes for honey pots, you know,” Merlin breaks the silence this time and Eggsy can only makes an interrogative sound, because he’s half-asleep by then. “We won’t make you go on them.”
“But I can do them!” His protests would probably be taken more seriously if his words weren’t so slurred by sleep and he wasn’t still snuggling between the two men, but he’s not leaving his little pocket of warmth for anything in the world.
“I am not implying that you can’t. You’ve proven already that you can carry it out if you have to. But what I am saying is that you don’t need to. And we’ll discuss it further when you’re not about to fall asleep.”
He wants to say that they can totally continue the conversation now, but Harry shortcircuits his brain by placing a small kiss on the sensitive skin just under his ear.
“We should get you to bed.”
“Yours?” He has to ask, because he really doesn’t want to give them up just yet, not when it feels like he’s just found them.
There is a slight pause, where he knows that if he were to look, Harry and Merlin would be having a conversation in looks alone. Then he feels the two men nod against him and Merlin’s lips brush his forehead.
“Yes, ours.”
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ccable · 7 years ago
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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Kingsman (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin Characters: Harry Hart | Galahad, Gary "Eggsy" Unwin Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Future Fic Summary:
Written for FlareWarrior for Kingsman Stocking Stuffer. The prompt was for Eggsy to be a roboticist and to build Harry. But Harry is built too well and takes a life of his own.
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kingsmansecretsanta · 5 years ago
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Event kickoff: prompt submission!
Hi! Are you guys ready? We hope you are as excited as we are ♄
As of today, the 23rd of November, Prompt Submission is live! 
These prompts will be first presented for the Holiday round of the fest and will also be available to create from for the Valentine's Day round. For the Valentine's Day round you'll have the chance to submit more prompts, but this isn't a requirement! During the Valentine's Day round, prompts from both rounds will be put together in one massive spreadsheet to choose from ♄ 
Mod will upload the submitted prompts ASAP into this Google spreadsheet. 
There will some delay at times because of boring things like work or sleep, alas. 
You can start creating as soon as the prompts get uploaded! This is mostly to give people as much time to create as possible.Feel free to start creating later, when there are more prompts collected to choose from, though!
The prompt submission form will stay open till December 18th, and will reopen January 8th.
For more info, check the links below! We hope you have fun ♄
Links: About // FAQ// Schedule // Contact // All about prompts Mobile Links: About // FAQ // Schedule // Contact // All about prompts
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solrosan · 5 years ago
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Two Christmases -- the one they celebrate in public and the one they celebrate in private
For @sodafrog13 who asked for festive moodboards and listed Tilwin in their likes for @kingsmansecretsanta. I apologize that this comes a bit after Christmas, I left my laptop at home when going away for the holidays.
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riddleblack246 · 5 years ago
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“How you doin’, Butterfly Guy?”
“As well as I was the last time I asked you to stop calling me that.”
For @sirhartwin and @kingsmansecretsanta
Prompt: “Tequila having a crush on Amnesia!Harry and Harry having a soft spot for Tequila cuz Harry has a TYPE (discuss)”
Initially, Tequila pretty much avoided Harry entirely. His policy with saved targets had always been something of a “save and skedaddle” and Harry was the first instance of someone being saved that wasn’t immediately sent off to a new life or family or whatever the case dictated. His presence weirded him out, beyond the notion of his seemingly coming back from the dead (some of Ginger’s tech was beyond creepy to him) and the knowledge that he’s associated with some sort of intelligence makes him stand back. Who knew who he was involved with? Tequila had seen some fucked up super villain level shit in his day and he wasn’t too pumped about possibly facing something like that because Ginger didn’t want to send this guy off.
However, interaction was inevitable. As massive as the Statesman estate is, it’s medical ward is only so big. After a mission forced him into Ginger’s hands, Tequila found himself sitting on her examination table and doing his best not to meet the guy’s eye. It’d only been about a month since he’d come to essentially live at Statesman and he seemed to be making strides. When Tequila last saw him, he was barely able to talk or move. Whether that was from the injury or panic, he wasn’t sure. But now the guy was standing just a bit behind Ginger, watching her intently as she finishes off yet another row of stitches. He barely blinked, didn’t speak, just watched like it was the most interesting thing in the world. When she finally finished and let Tequila redress, she turned to the guy and asked if any of what he saw felt familiar or dredged up any memories. And that was the first time her heard him speak. His voice was soft, smooth, even, and deep. Tequila didn’t think too much about why so many words came to mind.
For some reason, he began to stop spacing out around them after that. He would have never claimed that he paid attention, of course, but he did key in to certain things. Picked up information that he was learning about the guy. Like that his name was apparently “Harry”, that he was English, that he really fucking liked butterflies. He didn’t exactly need to listen in to pick that up. As soon as Ginger let the man have pens, he began to draw butterflies all over his goddamn cell. Diagrams, illustrations, everything is fucking butterflies. He wouldn’t admit it, but Tequila did think that the colors did make the whole quarter space a lot nicer to walk into, seeing those images through the two-sided mirror.
At one point, Ginger asked Tequila to sit in and talk with Harry. Of course, he hemmed and hawed and complained, asking why he even has to “babysit” when Ginger had been doing a bang-up job herself. She finally revealed to him that Harry himself had been asking about Tequila. Occasional inquiries about his job, his hobbies, little things as if he was trying to put something together, but he doesn’t know what. His most recent question was on if he already knew him, but had forgotten. After ensuring that no, Harry hadn’t met Tequila and the latter wasn’t just keeping mum about the whole thing, Ginger decided to get the two together in order to see what information she could glean from the interaction. It came with a little more whining on Tequila’s part, but the man finally caved and agreed to spend some time with the patient.
Harry didn’t appear to be expecting him when he arrived. He was looking off in some random corner and drawing on his wall as usual, adding color to one of the dozens of butterflies that had come to dot the walls. Tequila, for once, didn’t announce his arrival and just sat down on the man’s make-shift bed, watching him work. After a while, Harry spoke, greeting him and asking him how he was, all without looking up from the wall. Tequila, despite not wanting to really be there in the first place, responded and began to converse with Harry. He would have claimed that it was because he didn’t want to piss off Ginger and risk her refusing to treat him the next time he nearly got an arm blown off. But the reality was that the Butterfly Guy was surprisingly easy to talk to. They talked about Tequila’s life mostly, at least what he felt was safe to share of it. He was finishing off a story about Champagne and his role at the agency (how the public knew him, that is) when Harry said, almost absently “I thought Lee had died”. But just as easily he had said it, he’d forgotten he had said it, and try as Tequila might to get him back to the topic, Harry was oblivious.
After that conversation, Ginger became all the more insistent that Tequila continue talks with Harry. Something about the agent reminded him of his past and if they were going to have any chance of reigniting his memories, they needed to keep pushing. Strangely enough, Tequila didn’t complain and simply agreed to weekly visits with Butterfly Guy.
Tequila (and Ginger by extension) began to pick up small pieces of Harry’s past. Names like “Hamish” and “Arthur”, references to Margaret Thatcher and Parliament and kidnapping rings and assassination attempts. Little bits of a past that faded as soon as they were said. Tequila grew interested in a version of Harry that he never knew and, if he were honest, he was becoming attached to the Butterfly Guy that he interacted with each week. He found himself disappointed when he had to rearrange his day to see him when he was given a mission, caught himself recognizing specific butterflies that he saw when he was out, realized he was humming the little tune he heard Harry humming the week before. Hell, he’d even started calling him “The Lepidopterist”, as if subscribing the actual job title to his name denoted a level of respect or politeness or affection.
The week before Eggsy and Merlin would “drop in” on the Statesman Brewery (not that Tequila knew that yet), he arrived for his usual talk with Harry, only to find him sat in the corner of his cell, frozen. He sat beside him without a word. There’d been times when he’d watched Harry get this way and Ginger speak to him, trying to coax him out of whatever hole he’d slung his mind into. He had an idea of what to do, even if he wasn’t certain. He settled against the wall, flipping absently through the book he’d brought. He had seen it at some used bookstore that was by his apartment. It was some old ass field guide to butterflies in Peru and it was only a couple bucks. Nothing special. Just... something for Harry. Tequila started to tell him what he’d been up to in the week since he had last seen him, about getting dinner with a couple of other “employees”, about how he was planning on going riding the next weekend, about how it was coming up on ten years since he had joined the agency. When he began on the latter topic, Harry suddenly spoke.
“It’s been a year since you found me.”
Tequila agreed, though remained confused on the importance on the statement., He’d never been one to be big on anniversaries or interested in the importance of dates, but he supposed a year since being pulled back from the brink of death was probably pretty major. Harry continued to speak, bringing up a factor Tequila hadn’t considered.
“I know you all think I’m a part of something of grave importance. Some group of secrecy or something special. But don’t you think they would have found me if I was such a paramount piece of them? Either I’m non-essential or I’m not the person you believe me to be.” Harry swallowed, finally looking at Tequila with that one eye of his, staring at him with a level of panic and worry that he had never seen from him before. “What will you do with me if I’m not?”
Tequila had never considered that. He had always just gone along with Ginger’s belief that Harry was some sort of intelligence agent. He’d had the specs, the gadgets, the clear involvement in the slaughter that had occurred in the South Glade Mission Church. There was no doubting that he was a spy or something similar. But he was right. If he really was so important to an agency, wouldn’t he have been found by now? And if he wasn’t going to be found, what would happen to him? He’d done well enough in his cell for the past year, but living in a medical ward beneath a brewery-cover-operation wasn’t a true way to live. As reluctant as he was to admit it, Tequila couldn’t imagine Ginger’s ward without Harry in it and the thought of sending him off into a world he couldn’t remember sent chills down his spine.
Slowly, he slid his hand over Harry’s and squeezed. Harry didn’t look down as he interlocked their fingers, keeping his eye on Tequila.
“You’ll stay here until we figure something out, alright?” Tequila whispered, his voice taking on a rare quiet vocalization, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Six days later, he would tie up two men that axed his favorite barrel of whiskey and threaten to light them on fire, both oblivious to his reference to The Lepidopterist. Before Ginger steps in, there is one moment that nearly stops him. When the younger of the two speaks, assuring him that he “likes the part where he goes and fucks himself”, Tequila briefly remembers a statement Harry made months ago, in the face of Tequila expressing a similar statement.
“You sound just like him, you know.”
And if that doesn’t feel like a punch in the gut.
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agentdagonet · 5 years ago
Text
At The Beginning With You
Welcome to my entry for the 2019 @kingsmansecretsanta! I’ve actually never done this event before, and I’m glad I did so now! 
My gift is for the incredibly talented @han-ban-bam who won my heart over with their art when I was curious about their prompt. I hope you enjoy it!
Find it here on AO3
Summary: The Dowager Empress has been searching for her lost son Henry for ten years- but she's lost hope, and is prepared to live out the rest of her days alone, wondering what became of him.
Harry (just Harry) has no idea who he was eleven years ago- and all he has to lead him is a ring he can't remember getting with an inscription inside the band: Together in Paris.
Eggsy and Merlin are looking for the Grand Duke Henry Hart- or at least someone close enough to get the reward money- when Harry falls into their laps.
---
          ‘Go left they said- well,’ Harry looked at the sign briefly before scoffing, ‘I know what’s on the left. But, if I go right, perhaps
’ He spun the ring on his pinky briefly, a sad smile upon his lips ‘perhaps I’ll find an answer. But that’s ridiculous,’ Harry began to pace, looping his way through the snow and around the sign twice before speaking again, ‘how would I ever make my way to Paris- fuck it; I need a clue, a sign, something- anything! Just
 give me a hint that doing this reckless thing is the right one.’
           He’d been without his memories for as long as he could remember, no pun intended. He knew that he’d been staying at the Statesman house for ten years with no clue as to who he’d been or where he’d come from. He didn’t have anything from his past- had nothing he could call his own outside of the ring that sat upon his right pinky. Which was plain enough at first glance, but inside the band there was an inscription: Together in Paris.
           Harry pulled his coat as close to himself as he could and glared almost accusingly at the sign post, barely noticing the insistent tugging at his pocket- the one that held his scarf. He looked down to find a small dog, scruffy and black, seemingly delighted to have caught his attention. He grasped the end of the scarf in his pocket and tugged a little, and laughed at the tiny growl the dog gave in return. He played tug for a little longer, allowed himself the luxury of happiness for a moment, before he crouched down and pat him on the head.
           ‘I don’t actually have time to play with you, you know- I’m waiting for something,’ Harry looked back up at the sign, let his eye trail across and follow the snow as it fell, and unknowingly allowed his grip on the scarf to loosen.
           ‘Excuse me!’ The small dog was dwarfed by the scarf, thin as it was, but he was determined to get away. He paused for all of a breath, tail wagging furiously as he looked back, before bolting down the road and pausing again. ‘Lovely. A dog wants me to go to St. Petersburg- wait,’ Harry glanced back toward the Statesman house, that he knew he wasn’t going back to no matter which path he chose. He looked toward the path he knew well and the predictable future he could have.
 He followed the dog.
 ---
           It turned out that getting out of the country was more difficult than he’d assumed. Made infinitely more so by his lack of money and his status as an amnesiac. There were people trying to hawk off goods as having belonged to the long-since deceased Hart’s- somehow the people who had celebrated their deaths now craved their presence.
           Humanity was strange.
           ‘Excuse me, sir- a suggestion?’ Harry looked up from where he was staring at the ground, and looked the young woman who had spoken in the eye with a brow raised. ‘Go see Eggsy- he could probably help you.’
           ‘What’s an Eggy?’
           ‘Eggsy, sir,’ she corrected gently, and Harry nodded, ‘and he can help you find a way to Paris- he’s at the old palace, but you didn’t hear it from me!’ As quickly as she had appeared, the woman had folded into the crowd and vanished. He looked down to Mr. Pickle, having named the dog with the intention of keeping him no matter where he ended up, and pressed his lips to the top of his head before standing.
           ‘Well, why not?’
 ---
           ‘I hate to say it, Eggsy, but we’ve run out of men the correct age for this farce to be successful. We’ve wasted the last of our money and have nothing to show for it but this dilapidated ruin to hide in for one night longer.’ There were men in the building, their voices echoed out from somewhere Harry could not make his way to. He allowed himself to wander slowly, his hands trailing across the few things left in the house- some knicknacks, the odd torn bit of tablecloth.
           ‘This place is- it
 feels familiar. Like a dream I don’t remember having.’ Mr. Pickle was running about, sneezing when he stuck his head somewhere particularly dusty, but Harry paid him no mind. He’d tuned out the people talking, one of them being the man he’d even entered the building to find, focused intently on the painting of who he assumed were the deceased royals. There was something about the youngest man in the portrait that had him frozen. He recognised him, somehow, from somewhere; he could feel a phantom grip upon his shoulder, his hair ruffled, a kiss upon his cheek...
           ‘The fuck ‘re you doing here, bruv?’ The voice came from across the hall, and Harry’s head snapped up to find two men staring- the one with green eyes and light hair had spoken, and the taller bald gentleman was looking at a notebook, a set of spectacles perched atop his head. The younger man looked angry, almost sneering in his direction, so Harry turned and ran for the stairs where Mr. Pickle was lying beneath the massive painting. ‘Hey! Shit, mate, stop we ain’t gonna hurt you!’ That’s what they all say. He’d meant to keep running, but the stairs had winded him, and he paused with one hand bearing his weight against the wall before turning to the sound of approaching footsteps.
           ‘Apologies-’
           ‘How did you get in
 here
’ The younger man interrupted him, but trailed off, eyes darting between himself and the portrait behind him with something akin to awe. Harry shrugged and sighed, and Mr. Pickle chose that moment to reveal himself by growling from where he was perched upon Harry’s feet.
           ‘You haven’t answered our question-’ The younger man shushed the bald one, who looked at him as if offended at having been interrupted. The blond man didn’t seem to notice his offence.
           ‘Do you see what I see, Merlin?’ The younger man, presumably Eggsy, gestured in Harry’s direction.
           ‘No.’ pushed the glasses down his head, and gestured toward Harry a second time with a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. ‘Oh, a dog!’
           ‘Not the dog, Merlin-’
           ‘Oh- oh- you think-’ Merlin looked excited by whatever they were seeing in him, but Harry was getting impatient. Either let him leave or get on with whatever it was they wanted with him.
           ‘Are you Eggsy?’
           ‘Tha’ depends on who’s askin’.’ So it was definitely Eggsy, then, who was approaching him in a decidedly less antagonistic manner than the chase had started with.
           ‘I’m Harry, and I need travel papers- I was told my someone that you were the one to find, though I couldn’t tell you who told me so.’ As he spoke, Eggsy began to circle him, humming to himself and only vaguely motioning that he had heard him at all. ‘Dare I ask why you’re circling me? Perhaps you were a vulture in a previous life?’ Eggsy jumped a bit in place and looked at him sheepishly
           ‘Sorry, sorry; it’s just you look an awful lot like-’ he seemed to cut himself off, ‘nevermind, you said you need papers?’ He took in Harry’s dishevelled appearance, his worn eyepatch and fingerless gloves, but didn’t change how he addressed him. ‘What for?’
           ‘I’d like to go to Paris.’ Harry rubbed his thumb along the band of his ring mindlessly but Eggsy paid him no mind, having turned his attention entirely back to Merlin who was besotted with Mr. Pickle.
           ‘Paris, eh? Well, lemme ask you somethin’ Harry- there a last name to go with that?’
           ‘I doubt you’ll believe me, actually, but I haven’t the foggiest as to my last name. I presume I have one, but I was found wandering about ten years ago-’
           ‘An’ before then, what? You just popped into existence ten years ago?’ Eggsy looked simultaneously hopeful and baffled, and Harry didn’t know what to make of that.
           ‘I know it sounds ludicrous, but I honestly don’t remember- I have very few memories of my past, and my only real clue to figuring it out is Paris. So,’ Harry shrugged, and forced his thumb from his ring and attempted to look nonchalant. ‘Can you two help me, or shall I off and find another person to forge my existence?’ Eggsy leant toward Merlin and asked for something before turning back to Harry
           ‘Actually, we was headin’ to Paris ourselves- I got three tickets here, but unfortunately one of ‘em’s for him,’ Eggsy gestured to the portrait, specifically the young man with the brown hair and honey eyes, ‘Henry.’
           ‘We’re going to reunite the Grand Duke Henry with his mother- she’s been searching for years-’ Merlin came fully up the steps, Mr. Pickle in his arms, and nudged Harry up toward one end of the staircase.
           ‘You kind of look like ‘him- got his eyes, you know-’
           ‘Alexandra’s chin and Nicholas’ smile- look,’ Merlin pulled his left hand closer to his face, ‘he even has his father’s hands.’
           ‘I mean, what’re the chances- right age, the looks-’
           ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you attempting to tell me that you think I,’ Harry began incredulously, laughing slightly, ‘am Henry?’
           ‘All I’m gonna say is I’ve seen hundreds of blokes from all over the country ‘nd there ain’t one of ‘em that looks even close to the Harts compared to you. I mean, bruv, look at the paintin’ there!’ Eggsy gestured wildly to a new painting he didn’t bother to look at.
           ‘I was rather hoping you’d prove my first impression incorrect, but instead now I think the both of you are mad.’
           ‘Why? You don’ know what happened to you, an’ no one knows what happened to him!’
           ‘You’re looking for family in Paris, and that happens to be where his only family lives.’ Merlin interjected, one hand rubbing behind Mr. Pickles’ ears idly.
           ‘You ain’t tellin’ me that you’ve never thought about it?’
           ‘About what? Being a prince? It’s more than a bit difficult to think of yourself as much of anything when you’re sleeping on a damp floor- but sure, I guess every lonely person has imagined being royalty.’
           ‘And, somewhere, one lonely man is.’ Merlin rested an arm across his shoulder, a move more familiar than anyone had done in many years, and Eggsy began to walk away.
           ‘Wish we could help, mate, but tha’ third ticket’s for the Grand Duke Henry so-’ Eggsy pulled Merlin away, and Harry didn’t bother to turn. He stared at the new portrait, this one only of the younger man and a woman he could only assume was his mother bedecked in a finery Harry could scarcely imagine. He couldn’t help but lift a hand to the canvas, as if he could run his fingertips along the silk.
           ‘Eggsy, can I ask why the fuck you didn’t tell him about our plan when he is the only viable option-’ Eggsy raised a finger to his lips, and lifted the other hand to count down from three. Two. One.
           ‘Eggsy!’
           ‘That’s the thing with us common types- we know how to work a crowd, yeah? He’s in the palm of our hands, now- just ‘ad to make it look like his idea.’ Eggsy grinned, he and Merlin having come to a stop at the base of the staircase, and he could hear Harry making his way down the steps at much the same pace he’d gone up them.
           ‘Eggsy, wait- if I don’t know who I am then
 well, then who’s to say whether or not I am a Duke?’
           ‘Go on,’ Eggsy placed a hand at his chin, and Merlin seemed to be holding something back, but Harry couldn’t help but continue now that he’d begun. If he was going to take hints and chances from the universe, then he was going to do it right.
           ‘Well, if that turns out not to be true then the Empress would certainly know immediately if that were the case. An honest mistake- what had I to go on but the timing of my injury with the Hart massacre?’
           ‘Makes sense to me.’ Eggsy nodded, one hand beneath his chin, and Merlin nodded once before speaking.
           ‘And if you are the Prince then you will finally have some, if not all, of the answers you’ve been looking for. Family and identity.’
           ‘Merlin’s right, bruv- ‘sides, either way it gets you to Paris, yeah?’ Eggsy smiled and held out a hand, and Harry couldn’t make himself hesitate.
           ‘Right.’ They clasped hands, though perhaps Harry gripped a bit too hard if Eggsy’s face was anything to go by. ‘Well, Mr. Pickle, seems we’re going to Paris.’
 -------
           ‘Stop messin’ about with your ring and sit up- you’re a Duke, ain’t ya?’ Eggsy didn’t want to let on how much he hated trains- always made him feel a bit sick- and tried to focus on getting Harry to act like the man he was supposed to be. Merlin was sat on the other side of the cabin, fiddling with their travel papers, and Mr. Pickle (seriously? Why would anyone name a dog- nevermind) was sat across from Harry in the other window seat.
           ‘Eggsy?’ Harry had slouched further into his seat, but seemed to find that just a little too uncomfortable for the ride had sat back up to address him. 
           ‘Yes, Harry?’
           ‘How is it that you know what royalty is supposed to act like?
           ‘I make it my business to know.’ Eggsy dodged the question, not allowing himself to think about his mum and sister even after all the years between then and now. Everyone remembered the Hart’s destruction- but they never remembered the bystanders that fell simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. ‘I’m just tryin’ to help, ‘kay?’
           ‘Indeed
 Do you truly believe me to be royalty?’ His eye was wide and earnest, the brow above the eyepatch raised to match the other, and Eggsy turned fully toward him.
           ‘You know I do, bruv.’
           ‘Then stop bossing me around.’ Harry turned bodily back toward the window, pat one leg to beckon Mr. Pickle to sit with him, and seemed to admire the view without a care to Eggsy’s reaction.
           Merlin, on the other hand, had been observing the pair of them since they’d left the dilapidated palace and simply made another tally in his notebook. For all that Eggsy was a professional sweet-talker, he was being given the runaround by Harry. Between his cheek and his lack of memory, Harry seemed to have a lack of care when it came to niceties, and it had been a long while since anyone had pushed back when Eggsy pushed them.
           They were oblivious, of course, but Merlin wasn’t going to complain about the entertainment their dancing about brought him.
           ‘Harry, I think we got off on the wrong foot.’ Eggsy rubbed one hand along his jaw as he sat across from Harry, who looked fully engrossed in a book and might not have heard him in the first place.
           ‘I’d have to agree with you there, my boy- but I appreciate your apology.’ Harry peered over the top of his book for a moment, sincere as you please, and it took a moment for the words to fully sink in.
           ‘Apology? The fuck said anythin’ about an apology- I was just sayin’-’
           ‘You needn’t say anything else, Eggsy- in fact, it may actually upset me further.’
           ‘Guess I’ll keep my trap shut if you will.’
           ‘Fine.’
           ‘Fine.’
           ‘... Do you think you’ll miss it?’ Harry whispered, face not leaving the window even though his gaze was locked on Eggsy in the reflection.
           ‘What, you talkin’?’ Eggsy smirked, leant back in his seat carelessly.
           ‘No, Eggsy- Russia. Do you think you’ll miss Russia?’ Harry turned back toward Eggsy and gestured blandly to the snowscape out the window.
           ‘Nope.’ He didn’t even have to think about it.
           ‘But it was your home.’
           ‘It’s where I lived for a while, but it weren’t home, end of story.’
           ‘Then you must be thinking of making Paris your true home?’
           ‘What’s it with you and home, mate? Russia’s a place I lived, ‘nd maybe Paris’ll be the next place I live, what business is it of yours?’
           ‘It’s something every normal person wants, for one- for another
’ Harry stood and tried to pace, but Eggsy refused to move his legs from where they blocked his path. ‘Oh, forget it. Merlin!’ Harry exclaimed upon seeing the man come through the door, ‘thank goodness it’s you- please remove him from my sight.’
           ‘Fuck did you do, Eggsy?’
           ‘Me?!’
 ---
           ‘Unfortunate change in circumstance, Eggsy- papers are in red this month.’ Merlin spoke at a level tone, conversational, even as he turned their forged papers around to indicate the blue ink they were made in. ‘I propose we move ourselves to the luggage car before guards come to inspect our papers.’
           ‘That ain’t gonna do it, guv, y’know that- let’s get off this train.’ Harry was still asleep on the bench, and Eggsy leant over to nudge him awake. ‘Harry? Harry we’ve-’ Harry’s arm shot up and clocked him, and Eggsy fell to the opposite bench clutching his nose as Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
           ‘My apologies I thought you were someone else- oh, nevermind, it’s just you.’ Harry didn’t smirk, in fact his eye showed a touch of remorse if Eggsy was reading him proper, but he didn’t make any move to help, either.
           ‘C’mon,’ Eggsy grabbed as many bits of their luggage in one hand before offering the other to Harry, ‘we’ve got to go.’
           ‘Might I ask where we’re going?’ They made their way down the corridor slowly, and as Merlin and Eggsy settled into the luggage car Harry couldn’t help but nudge the bee’s nest and hide a smile.
           ‘The baggage car- scenic. There wouldn’t happen to be issues with our papers, would there, maestro?’
           ‘Course not, Your Grace- just hated making you mingle with them common folk, is all.’ There was a crash, a stack of luggage fell over, and Harry stumbled to the nearest wall. ‘The fuck was that, Merlin?’
           ‘No idea, but there goes the dining car,’ Merlin looked forlornly out the back window before approaching the door nearest the engine, ‘and it looks as if someone’s set the engine aflame.’ Indeed, there was fire coming from the smokestack.
           ‘Somethin’ ain’t right,’ Eggsy threw his coat off before jumping from their car to the one spewing fire, ‘stay here- I’m gonna check it out.’
           ‘I’m not certain there’s anywhere for us to go.’ Harry muttered to himself, glaring down at the bundle of fabric he’d managed to catch, and Merlin nodded in agreement. Luckily for them both Eggsy returned quickly, face flushed and a fair bit of soot on his trousers.
           ‘There ain’t nobody drivin’ the train- we got to jump.’ Eggsy tugged at Harry’s sleeve, half dragging him to the side of the car and pulling the wall open to reveal a steep drop off the edge of a cliff.
           ‘Jump, you said? Well I’ll certainly follow your lead on this one.’ Harry’s eye was wide and his face pale with panic, but it seemed that even certain doom couldn’t turn off his sarcasm.
           ‘Fuck it, we’ll- we’ll uncouple the car, then.’ Merlin dashed toward the fallen luggage and began searching for tools, and Eggsy went to the coupling, going through whatever tools Merlin handed him and cursing each time they broke.
           Mr. Pickle began to bark as a box shifted closer to him, likely startled by its size, but Harry began to grin as the shifting light from the fire revealed the box’s contents.
           ‘Y’sure there ain’t somethin’ better than this in there, guv?’ Eggsy was glaring at the coupling, which didn’t look at all worse for wear from when he’d begun trying to undo it, and didn’t even look up as there was movement from the corner of his eye. He lifted a hand and grabbed what was passed to him, and grinned when he finally brought it fully into view. 
           ‘Yes, Harry,’ Eggsy grinned jamming the stick of dynamite into the mechanics of it before running to the other end of the luggage car to await the earth-shattering kaboom. ‘The fuck taught you that?’
           ‘No one had to- I was just a bit inspired by the setting.’ 
           ‘Eggsy, lad, the brakes are out.’ Merlin was turning at the gear frantically, though his voice gave nothing away, and the flaming engine car was still close enough to send some embers into their car. A box caught fire, and Harry went to smother it out as Eggsy looked frantically about for another option.
           ‘There’s loads of track still, yeah? We’ll have to slow down eventually!’ Perhaps one of them ought to have knocked on wood, for at that precise moment the car rocked violently, and a glance outside showed that a large bit of track just ahead had collapsed. They all froze for a moment before springing back into motion at a frantic pace.
           ‘You were saying?’ Harry quipped, trying desperately not to panic in the midst of this life-endangering chaos, but Eggsy paid him no mind.
           ‘I got an idea- Merlin, gimme a hand.’ Without waiting for an answer, Eggsy pulled some chain to the back of the car, and climbed down toward the gears. He lifted a hand for the chain, eyes fixed on his target, but looked up as he grasped it. ‘Oi, did I ask for Harry?’
           ‘Merlin’s a bit preoccupied at the moment.’ Harry lowered the chain and instinctively gripped Eggsy’s arm as he lost his balance with a jerk of the car. He pulled the young man up, the two tumbling to the floor of the luggage car in a tangled heap, before watching a bit of the train fly off and slam directly into a tree. ‘To think, that could have been your untimely end.’ Harry blinked his one eye innocently before letting go of Eggsy entirely and moving away.
           ‘If we live through this shit, remind me to thank you.’ Eggsy grumbled, moving toward where Merlin was dusting himself off from a wayward tumble into some debris to grab the other end of the chain.
           ‘Wouldn’t dream of forgetting.’ Harry helped drag the chain into a pile by the door, not quite understanding what the plan was until Eggsy dropped the last bit of it to the top: a hook.
           ‘Brace yourselves.’ With that, Eggsy and Harry pushed the pile of chain out the back of the car with both hands, and waited with bated breath for the hook to catch on something.
           Anything.
           There was a lurch when the hook caught on the track, the entire car pulled off it from the sudden attempted stop. Suitcases were flung from one end to the other, some falling from the damaged holes in the car, Harry held Mr. Pickle tightly to his chest and prayed that they’d get out of this in one piece- even if it were a damaged one. As soon as the car seemed to settle to a steady grind along the ground, the trio of men locked arms before exchanging terrified grins and staring out at the rushing snowscape.
           ‘Well, it seems this is our stop!’
           They jumped.
           They miraculously landed without breaking any bones, though some rocks hidden by the snow had scraped them up a bit and Mr. Pickle was shivering pathetically in Harry’s arms.
           ‘I fuckin’ hate trains, bruv- don’ let me get on a train ever again, y’get me?’ Eggsy was still lying in the snow while waving a finger angrily at Merlin, who nodded indulgently, but Harry could do nothing but stare at the sky.
           What now?
 ---
           ‘Are we walking to Paris, then?’ They’d been walking for ages, and as the days wore on Harry was losing his nerve and his patience. He felt like a child, whinging about how long things were taking- but he had waited ten years for answers and now that he was on the path the rest couldn’t come soon enough. He was so close to getting an answer.
           ‘No, Your Grace, we are taking a boat from Germany into Paris.’ Merlin sighed, and looked forlornly at the path ahead of them.
           ‘Are we walking to Germany, then?’ It wasn’t that he was impatient, Harry reasoned with himself, it was just that he did not enjoy not knowing the plan. He wanted to at least have a solid idea of the next step they were taking, even though the end goal was the same.
           ‘We’re takin’ a bus to Germany, Harry, just got to get to town first.’ Harry hummed in agreement, and together they trudged on in companionable silence. Until Merlin decided the silence was too much to bear and began to wax poetic about someone named Roxy.
           ‘Who’s Roxy?’
           ‘The Juliet to my Romeo, hot chocolate after a walk in snow, a decadent pastry filled with laughter-’
           ‘Are we discussing a dessert or a person?’
           ‘Ix-ay on the Oxy-Ray’ Eggsy muttered, seemingly to himself as both of his companions were too caught up in one another to pay him any mind. The closer they got to Paris, the more stressed he became- how many more ways could shit go wrong? It was lucky that there wasn’t an actual deadline here, or they’d have been fucked over ages ago.
           ‘The ethereal Roxy Morton is the Empress’ Niece-’
           ‘Niece? Why are we going to see the Empress’ niece, and not the Empress herself?’ Harry barely kept himself from stopping in his tracks- but no matter what their initial destination, there was no way he was staying out in the cold because he was being petty.
           ‘Did you really think that we could just show up at the Empress’ doorstep?’ Eggsy scoffed, and glanced back before continuing onward. ‘No one gets to the Empress without Roxy’s say-so- after that thing where her whole family was massacred the Empress is a bit wary of strangers, if you can believe.’ Harry’s ears burned at the rebuke, feeling foolish for not having come to the logical conclusion of security.
           ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Harry muttered, refusing to make eye contact with either man when they looked back toward him, ‘I’m not certain how I feel about actively lying to someone about this. Make an appearance looking done up, ask some questions and perhaps get some answers, certainly, but to lie?’
           ‘The fuck said anythin’ about lying? D’you know you ain’t the Duke?’
           ‘Well no, I don’t know much of anything about who I may or may not be.’
           ‘So it’s one more stop on the path toward becoming your true self!’ Merlin said as he slung an arm about Harry’s shoulders, but Harry looked away and shrugged it off.
           ‘Harry, ain’t this somethin’ you’re gonna see to the end? Thought you wanted answers- can’t get shit if you don’ try.’ Harry shrugged and stared at a nearby pond for want of something to focus on. Eggsy was having none of his shit, and grabbed him by the elbow to force him to look at his own reflection. ‘What do you see, Harry?’
           ‘I see a frail man, who has no past to draw from and no future to aim toward.’
           ‘Well that’s nonsense,’ Merlin placed a hand on his shoulder, gripped it in a way that Harry knew would not be removed by simply shrugging it off, ‘you’re an intelligent man who wants answers. You’re determined and took a chance on the likes of us,’ Merlin gestured between himself and Eggsy, ‘on the word of a woman you didn’t know from any other passerby.
           ‘I’ve seen you give command equal to any royal- which,’ Merlin smiled, ‘is saying something, as I was once a member of the Imperial Court. I’ve plenty of experience with royalty to draw from.’
           ‘So you’ve got a choice, bruv’ Eggsy’d stopped, and had his hands shoved into his pockets, slightly slouched, and Harry couldn’t help but admire the cut of his image as Eggsy raised a brow in his direction, ‘you gonna focus on what you see now, or what you can become, Grand Duke Hart?’ 
           ‘Do you think that I’ve got anything to lose?’
 ---
           It was surprising how easily the lessons were able to stick. It felt far less like creating something from nothing and far more like rebuilding. Like giving a table a new leg, or darning a sock, instead of crafting from the bare materials. On the one hand, it made lessons simpler to get through- but on the other, it was actually terrifying to think that he had once known these things. Had he once been a man of the Courts? Was he a gossip that had merely taken note of all of these things for use at some later point?
           Table manners had needed some work, but it seemed that if Harry stopped thinking about things then his body simply did them naturally. If he curled his lip and narrowed his eyes, sometimes he was able to imagine sitting with the sorts of stuffy people he imagined royals to be and not making an utter fool of himself. But the things that were not easy were so difficult Harry was tempted to give up the venture entirely.
           ‘Harry, if I can do this shit then you can too. It ain’t that difficult.’ Eggsy was gesturing with a sheet Merlin had written various facts onto. Family members and the sorts of little stories that were used to make conversation when small talk wasn’t enough. Oh, once Count so-and-so managed the most ghastly thing entirely by accident! The empty stories that made collectives and families. ‘Now Count Sergei-’
           ‘I’ve heard he’s put on a fair amount of weight.’ Merlin commented from where he was sat, writing into a notebook.
           ‘He’s the one who had a cat, right? Some fat yellow thing,’ Harry cocked his head to one side, eyes looking skyward, and entirely missed the startled look Merlin and Eggsy exchanged.
           ‘...Yes, Harry.’ Eggsy said, barely holding it together as Merlin shook his head, only enough to be barely noticeable. Merlin snapped his book shut and tucked it away, Mr. Pickle startled from his nap where he’d sat upon Merlin’s legs and jumped down as Eggsy approached their luggage and reached inside. ‘Now, there’s somethin’ all royals c’n do that us common types ain’t the best at-’ Eggsy pulled out a set of black men’s dress shoes, open laced and simple, ‘dancing.’ He came up to Harry, offering them to the man with a grin. After a moment of Harry not reaching to take them from his grip, Eggsy shook them in front of his face. ‘What’re you waitin’ for?’
           ‘The punchline.’
           ‘There’s no punchline, Harry- dancing is as important to the royals as all of the bits of knowledge you’ve memorised up till now,’ Merlin spoke softly, and made sure to look Harry in the eye, ‘you’re going to have to learn at least a few dances, and these shoes are what you’ll need to be comfortable dancing in. Eggsy is going to be your dance partner-’
           ‘- what?’
           ‘- as you’ll have to be comfortable leading your partner and the height differential betwixt you is ideal.’ Merlin didn’t smile, but Harry could see the amusement in his gaze. He nodded, and Merlin took a few paces back to lean against the edge of the boat as Harry replaced his worn travelling shoes with the fancier pair.
           ‘They’re called oxfords- they make some with designs and shit ‘n call ‘em brogues, but the Hart’s were more about bein’ elegant than flashy.’ Eggsy muttered, the tips of his ears were red, and in spite of his overwhelming curiosity Harry kept his mouth shut. Perhaps at the end of all this he would know more than just who had once been, but until that time came it didn’t do well to pry.
           ‘Well,’ Harry stood, at once feeling entirely and nothing like himself in the too-hard shoes, ‘let’s get started.’ Harry offered a hand to Eggsy, who took it before placing his other hand at Harry’s shoulder. They exchanged a shaky grin before starting to move, both muttering beneath their breath and glancing downward every few moments.
           ‘Well, Merlin, on the one hand you’ve done an admirable job in setting them up. On the other,’ he sighed to himself, pulled a hand down his face and allowed his eyes to lazily follow them as they seamlessly danced their way around the bow of the ship, ‘you’ve set them up.’
           ‘I’m feeling a bit light headed, Eggsy.’ Harry murmured as he slowed their dance down to a crawl.
           ‘Dizzy?’ Eggsy looked up, an eyebrow cocked and Harry nodded in reply. ‘Prolly from all the spinning. We- we should stop.’ Eggsy couldn’t pull his eyes from Harry, who was looking at him the same way he’d looked at the sunset- eyes wide and mouth slightly parted.
           ‘We have stopped.’ They didn’t move from their positions, pressed nearly chest to chest and the toes of their shoes touching, and both men closed their eyes. Simply allowed themselves to breathe in the same air, unknowingly leant even closer than before, nearly-
           There was a clatter of luggage, and both men’s heads snapped toward Merlin and Mr. Pickle, the latter of which was sat atop the messy pile of belongings. Merlin was half covered by the pile and glaring at the dog. Eggsy pulled from Harry’s grip and backed up a bit before smirking in his direction.
           ‘You’re doin’ great, Harry.’
 ---
           Merlin was sitting on the floor of their room of the ship, a little green at the gills, while Harry read a book in his bed. Eggsy was sleeping on the floor, surrounded by their luggage just a little bit away, and Harry looked briefly over his form and Mr. Pickle sleeping beside him before he turned to Merlin.
           ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’
           ‘Just riddled with envy- there Eggsy is sleeping through everything while you and I remain awake from the rougher waters. There’s little I envy of Eggsy’s life, but his ability to sleep through anything is at the top of that list.’ Mr. Pickle had stirred at Merlin’s voice, and made his way over toward them with more than a little fanfare; he was small, and climbing over the luggage had jostled something loose, something that looked priceless. Gold and blue and engraved with strange symbols that tugged at the edges of Harry’s mind.
           Or perhaps that was the seasickness talking.
           ‘It’s a lovely jewellery box, is it not?’
           ‘Is that what it is?’ Harry turned it in his palm idly, looking but not really seeing the details.
           ‘Well, what else could it be?’ Merlin looked briefly between Harry’s face and the intricate object before putting his head back between his legs.
           ‘Something else- something... secret,’ Harry whispered, ran a fingernail along the top edge, ‘is that possible?’
           ‘Well, anything’s possible- you got Eggsy to waltz, didn’t you?’ They chuckled for a moment, exchanged a wry glance, and settled in for bed as best the were able.
           Eggsy woke to Mr. Pickle barking and jumping on his side, and he sat up slowly before registering the groaning that was not his own coming from the bed. Harry was tossing, his face contorted into a grimace and a noise Eggsy didn’t want to call a whimper but could call little else escaped him. Eggsy couldn’t help but scramble from his place on the floor, ran a hand down Mr. Pickles’ back unthinkingly as he passed, and shook Harry’s shoulder.
           ‘Harry? Harry! Wake up!’ Harry’s eye shot open, one hand slapped itself over his ruined eye socket to hide it from view as he gasped. Or maybe just to grasp at the eye patch that should have been there but was conspicuously absent. Eggsy moved his eyes slowly, left his hand on Harry’s shoulder, and used the other to pick up the patch from where it had fallen to the floor.
           ‘Here,’ Eggsy gave a small smile, the kind of sheepish thing you exchange when embarrassed, as he pressed it into Harry’s hand, ‘you okay?’
           ‘I- I’m not sure. I keep seeing these faces, they’re screaming, and-’
           ‘Hey,’ Eggsy squeezed the hand on Harry’s shoulder, ‘it was just a dream, yeah? You’re safe now.’ Harry looked between Eggsy’s eyes frantically, as if he was looking for something specific, and seemed to relax minutely as he found it. Whatever it was. His face slackened, one side of his mouth pulled into a sheepish grin, before he stretched languidly and turned onto his side beneath the covers.
           ‘Of course I’m safe- I’m with you.’
 ---
           ‘Yes, yes, we’d take picnics by shore in spring- but, tell me, why in the spring? How did we get there?’ An older woman, silver hair pulled into an elegant knotwork of loose braids, tapped her cane to the floor while glaring at the man before her. She could see the dye in his hair and the state of his attire did nothing to convince her of his supposed heritage. His blue eyes widened, one hand lifted in a parody of thought, before she continued. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but you’ve taken too long. Please see yourself out- and do let people know that I have no intentions of seeing any more false Henry’s.’ The door did not slam behind him, but a woman emerged from the hall with her eyes downturned and she scuffed a foot in the carpet as she came forward. Her red dress somehow subdued despite the colour, shoes a simple black to accompany a delicate bracelet that sat upon her wrist.
           ‘I’m sorry, Empress, I thought-’
           ‘The issue is not that you were thinking, Roxanne- it’s in how you were thinking. It’s been many years, and I am growing tired of the rough ride my heart has been taken on. I don’t want to give myself any more false hope, darling- I’ll not see any more. I would rather wonder than have my heart broken again.’
           ‘As you wish, Empress.’
 ---
           ‘What if she doesn’t recognise me? What if I’m not Henry, and we’ve come all this way for nothing? Just a short while ago I had nothing and now I’m having to remember an entire lifetime-’ Harry was fiddling with his ring, the only bit of familiar clothing on him, and refused to meet anyone’s gaze. His blue waistcoat and bowtie felt stifling and the oxfords on his feet still felt unnatural. But, these were the sorts of things he was meant to be used to- so he would suffer through the hassle.
           ‘Breathe. We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it.’ Eggsy ruffled Harry’s hair, sufficiently distracting him from Merlin ringing the doorbell.
           ‘Oui, monsieur?’ A maid had opened the door initially, but Eggsy stifled a laugh as she was unceremoniously pushed from the doorjamb and replaced with a woman in violet. Her hair was pulled to the nape of her neck with a black ribbon, and Harry could only notice that because she had veritably launched herself into Merlin’s embrace.
           ‘Merlin, well isn’t this an unexpected surprise!’ She had pulled back, a smile splitting her face, seemingly ignorant as to the rest of the guests. ‘Do come in, we can catch up inside. What brings you all the way to me after all this time?’
           ‘Might I present His Imperial Highness the Grand Duke Henry.’ Merlin gestured toward Harry regally, and Harry couldn’t help but straighten his back under her appraising gaze.
           ‘Well he certainly looks the part- but so did many of the others I’ve had to see through, love.’ Roxy tilted her chin and narrowed her eyes, but nodded her head before addressing Harry directly.
           ‘How do you take your tea, Henry?’
           ‘Preferably not at all.’ Roxy’s lips twitched for a moment before settling back into calculating neutrality. For all that he was meant to be royalty, if he did not act like a normal person around those who were meant to be his peers then he was obviously out of place. At least, that’s how he justified his thoughtless reply in his mind.
           ‘If you and I were to go dancing,’ Eggsy stifled a laugh at Harry’s look, ‘would you allow me to lead?’
           ‘Would you step on my oxfords?’ Harry raised a brow, and Merlin huffed a breath as he shook his head. The dance had begun.
           It had taken several hours, they’d shared a meal and Eggsy had noticed Roxy’s watching how Harry ate his meal. They’d had tea brought out twice, and Merlin could practically hear the notetaking happening in Roxy’s head. On the one hand, it was admirable that Roxy was taking her job as gatekeeper to the Empress so seriously- but on the other, this was exhausting.
           ‘And, finally, this may be a fair bit personal-’ 
           ‘We’re meant to be discerning my identity, think nothing of it-’
           ‘How did you escape during the siege of the palace?’ Roxy finished, and sat back in her seat with her hands folded in her lap. Harry looked to the floor for a moment from the corner of his eye, and licked his lips before answering with a knowledge he didn’t know the source of.
           ‘There was a boy, a young boy that worked in the palace, and he opened a wall. Which sounds like nonsense, I know, but-’
           ‘Is he Henry, then, Roxy?’ Merlin interrupted, leant forward in his chair beside her, one hand upon the tabletop between them. Eggsy hadn’t moved, had barely dared to breathe, locked on Harry’s form with eyes wide and unseeing.
           ‘Well he certainly answered every question I posed to him.’ Harry allowed himself to smile, but couldn’t get his body to relax. Still sat with his back straight, wrists straight, legs still beneath the table.
           ‘So when do we go and see the Empress, then?’
           ‘You don’t.’ It’s said simply, neutrally, as if discussing the weather or a nearby plant as Roxy pushed from the table and began to pace. ‘The Empress has had her heart hurt once too many times and has ordered an end to introductions.’ One hand rubbed at her chin while the other was curled behind her back.
           ‘But there simply must be a way- I certainly won’t budge until we have some semblance of an idea.’ Merlin spoke not frantically, but not calmly either. He spoke like a man who was used to people finding a way to obtain what he wanted.
           Harry’s mind was frantic. Here he had come all this way, done everything proper, and still it was hopeless?
           ‘Do you like the Russian Ballet? I believe they’re performing in Paris tonight, and the Empress and I are sure to never miss a performance.’ Roxy winked in Merlin’s direction, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to share a smile with Eggsy-
           Who wasn’t there.
           ‘We did it! We’re to see Her Imperial Highness tonight and then we are golden, Eggsy!’ Merlin meandered into the garden where Eggsy was staring almost angrily into a bird bath.
           ‘He’s the Prince, Merlin.’
           ‘Oh, quite right, I nearly believed him myself,’ Merlin continued to babble, but Eggsy wasn’t listening. They were going to shop for proper attire for the ballet, great, but that didn’t change anything. They’d go, the Empress would see Harry, and it would be over.
           He’d just have to live with it.
 ---
           ‘Merlin I told you a hundred times now, we got nothin’ to worry about. Henry’s the Prince. He’s the real deal.’
           ‘I know, I know-’
           ‘No, you don’ fuckin’ know! I was the boy in the palace, Merlin,’ Eggsy swallowed heavily, clenched his hands together and looked down at his lap. Sitting on the steps of the Ballet house was likely poor etiquette, but he couldn’t care less at this moment. ‘I opened the wall.’
           ‘Then
 We’ve managed to reconnect Harry with his family, we’ve found the heir to the throne, and you-’ Merlin breathed, sad eyes looking at Eggsy.
           ‘Will leave his life forever.’
           ‘What? But, Eggsy, he-’
           ‘Princes don’t marry kitchen boys, Merlin. It’s better if he don’t know- we get this shit done like nothing’s changed, yeah?’
           ‘You’ve got to tell him, Eggsy-’
           ‘Tell me what?’ Harry appeared as if summoned, but Eggsy knew it was just because he was distracted. His jacket, slightly covered by the long black winter cloak, was a dark blue velvet, slacks a pristine black and both were cut to make Harry look as if he had been the muse for whom the clothes were made in tribute of. He looked stunning, eye soft and hair carefully groomed and he seemed to have obtained a new eyepatch. Less faded, more elegant, just the slightest change that somehow made a world of difference.
           ‘Just how wonderful you look, Harry. Like- like Royalty.’ Eggsy ran a hand through his hair, and only Merlin could see the way he tugged sharply at the fine bits at the base of his neck.
           ‘Well, that’s what they say I am, so,’ Harry shrugged, a little pink in the cheeks, and the three of them slowly made their way up the steps. People stared, but only in the way one stared at a piece or art, admirably sand from a distance.
           ‘There she is, Harry,’ Eggsy leant intimately into his space, offering a pair of opera glasses and pointing with a flick of his wrist across the balcony. Roxy was sat beside a woman bedecked in a fine burgundy and so many jewels the chandelier was envious. An ornate crown sat upon her brow, and though her eyes were sad her face was soft. Harry immediately felt as if he knew her, could easily imagine late evening talks and soft laughter.
           ‘Oh, please let her remember me.’ Harry begged a god he didn’t believe in, desperate to know that he belonged somewhere but unwilling to believe so without solid evidence. He spent the first quarter of the ballet nervously fiddling with his ring, and ripped his programme to shreds, before Eggsy reached over and seamlessly threaded his fingers between Harry’s and gave a squeeze.
           ‘Everything’s going to be fine, Harry.’ Eggsy said it with such authority that Harry couldn’t help but believe him, and allowed himself to relax and actually enjoy Cinderella until the intermission.
           ‘C’mon, it’s time.’ Eggsy stood and pulled Harry up with him, and the pair walked steadily through the halls until they came to the set of doors Eggsy knew led to the Empress’ balcony. ‘I’m gonna go in and announce you proper, an’ then I’ll come and get you, yeah?’ He turned to pull away, but found Harry’s hand tightened around his own.
           ‘Eggsy,’ Harry was pale, but steady, and looked at him very seriously, ‘we’ve been through quite a lot together, and I wanted
 well, before everything changes, I wanted to thank you.’ He lifted their clasped hands to his face, and placed a light kiss to Eggsy’s fingers with a soft smile and an emotion Eggsy didn’t want to name in his eye. Eggsy allowed himself one moment, the space between one blink and the next, to imagine the life he wanted. The life they could have had, if all of these things hadn’t turned out the way they had.
           ‘I- I, uh I
’ Eggsy forced himself to look away from Harry and pulled his hand back. ‘Good luck, Harry. Here goes!’ He turned, and let himself into the room- not noticing that it didn’t latch shut behind him.
           ‘Please inform Her Majesty, the Dowager Empress, that I have found her son, the Grand Duke Henry- he's waiting to see her just outside.’ Roxy had stood when the doors opened, and stifled a giggle at Eggsy’s airs.
           ‘I’m sorry, sir, but the Empress will see no one.’
           ‘You can tell the impertinent young man that I’ve seen enough Grand Duke Henry’s in my lifetime and have no desire to see another one. I wish to live out the remainder of my lonely life in relative peace.’
           ‘If you’d just let me-’
           ‘Come, you’d better leave, I’ll escort you to the door.’ Roxy pulled the curtains shut and bustled to the door, but Eggsy took a breath and went through the erected barrier instead.
           ‘Your Majesty I mean you no harm, my name’s Gary- I used to work at the palace. In the kitchens.’ He sat in a seat but was sure to leave a space between them- he was pushing things, but he wasn’t a complete idiot.
           ‘Well that’s certainly not one I’ve heard before.’ Her nose wrinkled, the edge of her eyes creased, and Eggsy couldn’t help but see Harry in her face.
           ‘I hope not, ma’am, as it’s the truth an’ all-’
           ‘I know what you’re after, I’ve seen hundreds of you in the last decade- men intent on the reward and willing to do anything to get it. To lie to an old woman about her own son,’ she spat, ‘you’ve come a long way, haven’t you? To get here from Russia must have been quite the trek, and no matter who the man beyond that door is he’s not going to be my Henry. He may look like him, or talk like him, perhaps he has the family tree memorised or knows my favourite perfume but it is never. My. Son.’ Harry and Roxy were stood by the door, one on each side, and both could hear the exchange. Roxy looked at him with defeat set in her shoulders, and Harry could do nothing but run his thumb upon his ring and look to the ground in reply.
           Harry barely kept himself from crying, just from the pain in her voice- he may not have any memory of his family, of his past, but he had seen enough examples of pain, of grief, in his ten years at Statesman to never wish to cause that to someone else. Whether Eggsy and Merlin had used him was irrelevant to this woman’s suffering. He had no right to reopen those wounds, no matter who he had been. 
           ‘He really is Henry, Your Majesty!’ Eggsy was grabbed around the arms by two security men, who had likely come through an unseen passage at the Empress’ request. ‘Just talk to him, five minutes, and you’ll see!’ She looked away from him, threw a hand lazily over her shoulder, and Eggsy was tossed from the room to land in a heap at Harry’s feet.
           ‘Was this all a lie, as she thinks, Eggsy?’ Harry offered Eggsy a hand to help him up, but let go as if burned once he was righted. There was only one real way to end this venture and stop contributing to the hurt the Empress had to endure.
           ‘No, no Harry it wasn’t,’ Eggsy clenched his fists so tightly his nails bit into his palms, ‘I ain’t gonna lie and say it didn’ start out that way but everything’s different now. It’s been differen’ since we got to Paris cos you really are Henry Hart.’ Harry looked at him sadly, and a single tear ran from his eye.
           ‘From the beginning there were falsehoods, and to think that I actually,’ Harry shook his head slightly, ‘nevermind. How am I meant to believe you, now, Eggsy?’
           ‘... When we was at Roxy’s place,’ Eggsy spoke slowly, eyes never leaving Harry’s, ‘you told her that you’d gotten out from the palace cos a boy opened a wall.’ Harry nodded, ‘Did we ever tell you that?’
           ‘... No.’ Harry sighed, and lifted a head to rub at his temple.
           ‘I was that boy, Harry,’ Eggsy gulped, ‘I worked in the kitchens, whole family worked at the Palace and all, an’ I heard the crashing an’ screaming and I didn’t even think I just knew I had to try.
           ‘I’m sorry I couldn’ do more, Harry. But I’m trying to make up for it now.’ Harry still looked unsure, so Eggsy nodded firmly and stepped around Harry to leave through the front door. He could take all the time he needed, as long as he was still in Paris by the time Eggsy’d convinced the Empress to try one last time.
           For once luck was in Eggsy’s favour, as the Empress as getting into her car just as he made his way down the steps, and Eggsy slid into the driver’s seat smoothly before taking off, tyres screeching.
           ‘Ilya, slow down.’ Eggsy looked back at her with a wink, and took a sharp turn while he kept his laughter to himself.
           ‘I ain’t Ilya, ma’am, and I won’ slow down ‘til you listen to me.’ The Empress demanded otherwise, but Eggsy tuned her out. It didn’t matter what Harry thought of him, what this woman thought of him, what happened to the money- as long as Harry got his fair shot at happiness. He pulled them to a stop in front of the house they’d been staying at. ‘You got to talk to him, look at him. Please.’ If it were for anyone else Eggsy would have hesitated, but he knelt before the woman with his head hung low and hands digging through his pockets.
           ‘I refuse to be badgered by you for a moment longer, young man-’ Eggsy pulled the jewellery box from his pocket triumphantly and held it before her.
           ‘D’you recognise this?’ She reached out a shaking hand to pull it toward her, breath caught, and looked briefly up to Eggsy’s eyes.
           ‘Where did you get this?’
           ‘I know you’ve been hurt, and that ain’t fair,’ Eggsy ignored the question, ‘but maybe. Just. Maybe he’s been just as lost an’ alone as you’ve been.’
           ‘You’ll truly stop at nothing until I give in, will you?’
           ‘Harts ain’t the only stubborn family, ma’am.’ Eggsy grinned, and though all the Empress did in reply was sigh he knew he’d won this battle. He led her up the stairs, left her at the door, and hoped for a miracle.
           ‘What could you possibly need of me at this time of night, Eggsy?’ Harry barely paused in his packing to respond to the knock at the door. No matter the outcome of the evening, it was unlikely that he would be able to remain in this place for long. He had to begin a new life, here- and the beginning was sure to be the toughest part. He didn’t notice the door opening or the clacking steps into the room, and only turned when he heard the door click shut again.
           ‘Oh, I- I beg your pardon,’ Harry stuttered, ‘I thought you were-’
           ‘I know precisely who you thought I was, sir- but I must ask. Who, exactly, are you?’
           ‘To be honest I was hoping you’d be able to tell me.’ Harry pulled up one end of his lips before pulling out a nearby chair and sitting himself on the edge of the bed.
           ‘I am an old woman, dear, tired of being conned and given hope only to have it tricked away.’ She did not speak the way Harry assumed Royalty would, she spoke plainly, but perhaps that was more her age than her standing in life.
           ‘It’s a good thing that I’ve no desire to trick you, then.’
           ‘I suppose you’re uninterested in the reward money, as well?’
           ‘To be frank, Highness, all I desire is to know who I am. Whether or not I belong to
 well, to all this,’ Harry gestured to the finery he was still draped in, to the room around him that was far finer than any other he’d stayed in. ‘Whether I belong to your family, or if I must continue searching Paris on my own.’
           ‘Well I’ll have you know that you’re an excellent actor- the best I’ve seen, in fact- but it doesn’t make you who I’m looking for.’ She looked him up and down once more before turning to walk from the room, and Harry caught something on the air he couldn’t help but comment on.
           ‘Peppermint?’
           ‘An oil, for my hands.’ The Empress paused with a hand on the door as the other held her elegant cane.
           ‘I think I- yes, I spilled a bottle of it, once, onto the carpet. It always smelled of peppermint after that- it always reminded me of you.’ Harry was looking down at his hands, and entirely missed the Empress’ eyes widening as she turned around and sat at the bench by the door. ‘I’d lie there, undignified on the floor with a book, when you were away on business and wait for your return.’ He turned in place, eyes closed, one hand fiddling with the ring that had started this entire adventure as he smiled softly. He didn’t know where the words were coming from, but at this point he’d stopped questioning his body when it seemed to know what to do.
           When Harry opened his eyes, the Empress was looking at him softly, and gestured to the bit of bench beside her. He took the hint and sat down, forcing his hand away from the ring as he turned to face the Empress.
           ‘What is that?’ She gestured to the ring, and Harry’s ears pinked at having been caught fiddling.
           ‘I’ve always had this, for as long as I could remember. Well, since before then, I’d wager, as I don’t recall where it came from.’
           ‘May I?’ She lifted a hand, and Harry could only watch as if from a great distance as she took the ring from him and pressed it to the bottom of the jewellery box and twisted a handful of times. ‘It was our secret, my Henry’s and mine.’
           ‘The music box- to
 to lull me to sleep, while you were in Paris.’ Harry whispered as he watched the box open and the figures began to spin. ‘Hear this song and remember
’
           ‘Soon you’ll be... home with me-’ The Empress sung softly as she slowly placed the music box on the bench between them.
           ‘Once upon a December.’ Harry finished, still staring at the music box as it stopped playing a song he hadn’t known he knew.
           ‘Oh, Henry,’ the Empress cried, uncaring of the tears that fell down her face in what was certainly an undignified manner, ‘my Henry.’ She pulled him into an embrace, and Harry couldn’t help but tuck his head into her shoulder and close his eye, trying to soak in the moment as much as he could.
           Down on the pavement, staring at the lit window from the fence, Eggsy blew a kiss and walked away, knowing he’d gotten Harry home.
           Hours later the Empress and Harry were sat in her home, a short table covered in small paintings and other such physical memories between their chairs, and Harry felt more than a little overwhelmed.
           ‘I remember, now,’ he murmured, ‘how much I loved them. It feels silly to mourn for them now, but-’
           ‘They would not have wanted us to live in the past forever, Henry- especially not now that we have found each other again after all this time.’ Harry hummed in agreement but continued to run his fingers over the sketch of what was apparently he and his brothers. People he could barely remember but somehow missed fiercely.
           ‘Do you remember this portrait you made for me?’ She passed over a rather ugly drawing, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh in no small amount of amused horror.
           ‘Oh, yes, didn’t Olga say it looked as if a pig were riding a donkey?’ Harry held it away from his face and squinted before he shrugged and set it aside. ‘Seems she was right.’
           ‘You laugh just the way your father did,’ The smile they shared was sad, ‘ah, but your looks are all from me. And rightfully so, Niko’s hair loss was a terrible shame.’ The Empress ran a hand through her soft curls before reaching out to card through Harry’s own, now that it was free from the product that held it in place for the ballet. ‘Come, we’ve a celebration to prepare for.’
           If Harry had thought the shoes were uncomfortable he was sorely mistaken. The pair of sashes that draped from shoulder to hip, the cloak at his shoulders that forced them back, the sheer weight of the jewelled tunic
 he felt like a piece from a museum, not meant to be moved or touched, no matter how beautiful.
 ---
           ‘You sent for me, Your Grace?’ Eggsy bowed at the waist, confused beyond reason for his presence in the Empress’ home after he’d basically kidnapped her and forced her to interact with Harry.
           ‘The ten million rouble reward, as promised, with my gratitude for your stubbornness.’ She stepped away from the table, and indicated the open case that sat upon it.
           ‘Well ta for the gratitude, Your Highness, but I don’ want the money. There’s other places I can get that.’ Eggsy knew he was being stupid, being proud, because the money was actually something he needed. But the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to take it.
           ‘Then what is it that you desire in return for bringing my Henry back to me?’ This was an entirely different person from the car, this was far more like the woman he’d known in the Palace. When things were simple, and happy.
           ‘’nfortunately, nothin’ you can give me.’ Eggsy turned and began to walk from the room, but was stopped by a hand at his wrist.
           ‘Before you go,’ The Empress began, not at all as if she were giving an order but Eggsy couldn’t help but comply, ‘where did you get that music box?’ Eggsy pulled his fingers down his jawline and looked away, teeth clenched tightly together.
           ‘You were the boy, weren’t you- the servant boy who got us out. You saved his life that night- and mine- you’ve restored him to me, after all this time. And you desire
 nothing?’
           ‘Not anymore.’ Eggsy shrugged the hand from his arm and continued toward the door, desperately trying to hold tears at bay. Harry deserved this, to have the life that had been taken from him so many years before in a senseless act of violence. It wasn’t his fault that Eggsy wasn’t a part of that picture.
           ‘Can I ask what changed your mind?’ Eggsy stopped and turned back to the Empress, shoulders back and jaw set.
           ‘It’s more a change of heart, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me.’ Eggsy bowed again before taking his leave, entirely missing the knowing look the Empress made at his back. He made his way down the stairs, stared fixedly at his feet as his hand gripped the rail, hoping beyond reason that he could simply escape without running into-
           ‘Hello, Eggsy.’ Harry, in an outfit of gold and sky blue, the sort of thing the Emperor had worn to the sort of parties Eggsy had never been old enough to work, let alone attend. ‘Did you collect your reward?’ It was said kindly, there was no judgement in Harry’s gaze, but it still made Eggsy’s neck prickle with shame. Did he really think that little of him, after everything?
           ‘Got my business done, yeah.’
           ‘Excuse me, sir, you’re to bow and address the Prince as Your Highness.’ A servant spoke from the base of the stairs, and Harry lifted a hand to stop him but Eggsy needed to get out of there. Now.
           ‘Your Highness,’ Eggsy bowed much the way he had for the Empress, and lifted only his eyes, ‘I’m glad you found what you was lookin’ for, Harry.’
           ‘I’m
 I’m glad that you have, as well.’ Harry looked like he had more to say, so Eggsy remained as he was, but nothing more came.
           ‘Goodbye, Your Highness.’ Eggsy finally took his leave, fluidly walking down the steps and out the door before Harry could reply.
           ‘Goodbye, Eggsy.’
 ---
           Mr. Pickle did not like the crown they were attempting to put on him for the party. He didn’t mess with the sash or the toy sword but no matter how many pins Merlin used the crown was thrown off in a matter of moments. As adorable a picture he made, perhaps it was time to give up and settle for the rest of it.
           ‘Well,’ Eggsy spoke from behind Merlin, who turned around holding the dog-sized crown behind his back as if that would make Eggsy forget what he’d seen, ‘If you ever come back to St. Petersburg
’ Eggsy shrugged, and Merlin dropped the crown to the floor so he could grasp Eggsy by both shoulders.
           ‘You’re making a mistake, lad.’
           ‘Nah, Merlin- this is the one thing I’m doin’ right,’ Eggsy knelt to give Mr. Pickle a scritch and used him as an excuse not to meet Merlin’s gaze, ‘I can’t stay. I don’ belong here, with the ivory towers an’ fancy shit.
           ‘I’ll be alrigh’, Merlin- take care, yeah?’ Eggsy pat him on the shoulder, and made his way from the house with his one bag and a determined look on his face; he’d done what he set out to do, and now it was time to go home.
           Harry pulled the curtain open for the fifth time in as many minutes, eyes scanning the crowd for someone he was never going to admit he was looking for.
           ‘He’s not there, Henry.’
           ‘I know he’s not-’ Harry cut himself off, ‘who’s not there, mother?’
           ‘That remarkable young man that found the music box.’
           ‘He’s likely a bit busy spending the reward money, he’s probably trying to forget all of this even happened.’ Harry muttered to himself as he allowed the curtain to fall back shut and walked away from it. He’d thought their journey had given them a connection, and though Harry had definitely taken the coward’s way out and remained silent, Eggsy hadn’t said anything either. He’d thought that they had crossed a barrier, but it seemed that it was all for the job, the story, and now he was something left to the past. 
           The Empress rolled her eyes and looked at Mr. Pickle, who was curled asleep next to the elegant throne Henry would sit in after his introduction as the guest of honour.
           ‘Do you see them dancing, Henry? You were born to this, this finery with its titles and jewels, and you’ve found your way back here through so much. But I wonder,’ She paused, allowing her gaze to trail over the room of celebrating strangers, ‘if the reality of this is what you truly desire.’
           ‘All I ever wanted was to find my family, and I have,’ Harry turned to her, and grasped both her hands in his own, ‘I found who I am, and you-’
           ‘And you’ll always have me, my love- no one can take who you are from you again- but is it enough?’ She pulled him into her embrace, tucked her head beneath his chin and simply stayed there a moment before pulling back to look into is face. ‘He didn’t take it, you know. The reward- said what he wanted was something that I couldn’t give.
           ‘Seeing that you’re alive, Henry- seeing the man you’ve managed to become in circumstances I’ll never understand- has brought me joy I thought I’d never feel again,’ Harry began to pace, but the Empress caught his arm and lifted a hand to his cheek. ‘Whatever you choose, darling, we’ll always have each other.’ She pulled away and made her way out to the dance floor, leaving Harry to his thoughts. But as soon as he’d been left alone Mr. Pickle had begun a ruckus, barking madly and running out of the back door.
           ‘Mr. Pickle!’ Harry whisper-yelled, unwilling to disturb the party more than his dog already had, ‘Mr. Pickle, stop this nonsense!’ Of course the street mutt didn’t listen, and instead ran madly into the hedge maze his mother had led him through earlier. Harry didn’t allow himself to think about the party, about Eggsy and the money he had refused, about the things outside of his control, and instead followed his dog. 
           After all, this adventure was entirely his fault in the first place. Who knew where else Mr. Pickle would lead him?
 ---
           Eggsy had made it all the way to the ticket window at the station before he’d turned right back around. Maybe he was an idiot, maybe nothing would come of it, but if there was one thing a life without second chances taught you it was to go for what you wanted. Take the risk. Maybe it’d be what killed you, but that didn’t make it less important than anything else. At least you’d get to say you’d tried.
           But he couldn’t bring himself to actually go inside. He could hear the laughter, the music, could see the elegance from the windows but Eggsy didn’t feel any more as if he belonged there. That wasn’t his place. So instead he’d settled for wandering the hedge maze, he’d never been in one proper before and it was close enough to feel like he’d tried. Maybe he’d get the courage to find Harry later, but for the moment it was enough to know that he was nearby, even if he was unable to see him.
           Which was why it startled him so much to feel a tugging at his pant leg, and look down to find Mr. Pickle. And back up, to see Harry turning the corner, still in his finery, nowhere near the party what was entirely in his honour.
           ‘Eggsy,’ Harry breathed, and he couldn’t bring himself to move. The pair stood there, as if they hadn’t seen each other mere hours before, before Harry spoke again. ‘I thought you were going back to-’
           ‘I was, but-’ Eggsy shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets, scuffed a shoe across the ground and looked up slowly, ‘I couldn’t.’
           ‘And the-’ Harry was walking toward him slowly, as if he were an easily spooked animal, or an illusion he didn’t want to break.
           ‘That neither. Wasn’ right, not when I-’ Eggsy cut himself off, huffed a breath and shut his eyes.
           ‘When you?’ Harry was grabbing his hands, his eye curious and hopeful, and Eggsy blushed and looked away. Mr. Pickle barked, not enjoying being ignored, and it pulled both men from the daze they’d been in. The music echoed from the hall, and Eggsy looked down as his clothing before he started to pull away.
           ‘They’re waitin’ for you, Harry.’ Eggsy looked to the building, barely able to see the light through the hedges, and Harry didn’t move.
           ‘Let them wait.’ Harry cupped Eggsy’s chin with one hand, rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, and turned his face toward him. There was a fraction of a moment, the space between breaths or blinks of an eye, where Harry searched Eggsy’s face before he brought their lips together.
 ---
           Wish me luck, mother, as I’m off on this new adventure. I know we haven’t had long to get to know one another as we are now- but we’ll be together in Paris again soon enough. 
                     All my love, Harry Hart
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anarchycox · 6 years ago
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Rated: G
Pairing: Roxlin
One shot
How Merlin helps Roxy come down from a mission
for the @kingsmansecretsanta
for mang-o
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stronglyobsessed · 5 years ago
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Eggsy gets an early morning phone call from his sister regarding Christmas for their mother - Harry Hart is an annoying, but deliciously pleasing, distraction. 
---
This is my 4th entry for @kingsmansecretsanta stocking stuffers!
For @randomactsofviolence
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soldierwinters · 7 years ago
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A @kingsmansecretsanta stocking stuffer for @annaofaza who requested an angsty gifset/moodboard of unrequited hartwin with this quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald.
I added the first two scenes so I hope it’s okay for you. 😱
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marveliciousfanace · 5 years ago
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For @eggsyobsessed, who wanted old married merlahad driving their pseudo-son Eggsy crazy after their “retirement” from Kingsman. I hope I delivered. I definitely had fun.
@kingsmansecretsanta
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elrhiarhodan · 5 years ago
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Kingsman (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Harry Hart | Galahad, Chester King | Arthur, Merlin (Kingsman), Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Original Kingsman Character(s), Gary "Eggsy" Unwin Additional Tags: Jewish Character, Everyone's Jewish, Jewish Identity, Harry Hart backstory, Jewish Harry Hart, Jewish Merlin, Jewish Eggsy, Judaism, Hanukkah, Expressions of Anti-Semitism, Family, Domesticity, Asexual Harry Hart, 2019 Kingsman Stocking Stuffer Challenge, Chester King is an absolute shitstain of a human being, Merlin is a good bro, Harry has a lovely family and I want to write more about them
Summary:  A Five + One story about Jewish Harry Hart, who is utterly sick and tired of getting Christmas shoved down his throat.
Notes:  Written for @solrosan for the 2019 Kingsman Stocking Stuffer challenge, for her prompt: Someone (in my head it's Harry, but it can be anyone really) is Jewish and is just a bit... tired with all the Christmas.This is a companion piece to my Everyone's Jewish Kingsman fic, Blessed Art Thou, which you don't have to read to enjoy this story.  
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elletromil · 5 years ago
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Chapters: 2/3 (2455 words) Fandom: Kingsman (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary “Eggsy” Unwin Characters: Harry Hart | Galahad, Gary “Eggsy” Unwin, Michelle Unwin, Merlin (Kingsman), Ginger Ale (Kingsman) Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Mythology References, Supernatural Elements, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), The Fates - Freeform, Harry-centric, Temporary Character Death, Pre-Relationship
Summary: Harry has always believed that there is more truth to the myths and legends of old than people care to admit. That there is more of the world to be seen than what the naked eye can perceive.
As such, he’s always held a deep respect for things that leaves many bewildered. And when his Lachesis sacrifice himself so he might live, he swears he’ll forever try to honor him, until the thread of his own life is cut.
Notes: For @agentdagonet and this year’s @kingsmansecretsanta based on their likes:
I’m a sucker for soulmate au’s, things that tie in mythologies (look at Elletromil’s Messenger of War, as an example), I love all pairings but have a special place for MerHartWin and HartWin
 I like stories that make me think a bit.
I hope you continue to enjoy it <3
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paxdracona · 6 years ago
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Hiii @unwinthehart ♄ 
Just a little something for the gifts you’ve been creating! So have some Harry and Eggsy being disgusting fools in love ♄
(for the @kingsmansecretsanta :D)
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