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bepisbee · 3 months ago

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feeling nasty so heres a hurt/comfort sickfic

read on ao3

He knew what being sick meant. They had told him all about it, but being a monster he had never experienced it before. Before now, anyway. It was awful. It almost made him wish he hadn’t become a regular person. He didn’t realize it at first, feeling slightly off. He sneezed more, kept sniffling, this gross stuff came out. But then his head ached and he could hear less from one side, sounding like static fuzz. Then came the draining and coughing and he sure as hell could not ignore or hide it anymore.

He coughed into his sleeve again, having been yelled at before that it was gross not to.

“Oh, poor Shadow.” Green frowned. “That sounds terrible.” He walked into their room with a glass of warm water mixed with honey, and handed it over.

“Thaah-aa- ahem” he cracked. “Thanks OG.” Shadow drank gratefully. Slightly soothing his rough throat. “Mm.”

“Blue is making some honey candies for you to suck on, some of them with some herbs Vio grows he says will help with vitamins and soothing and… I don’t remember honestly he was rambling. He’s so worried about you, it’s sweet.” Shadow blew his nose into a tissue and tossed it into the trash bin they set next to the bed. “Getting bored yet?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I might actually end up reading some of the books Vio left for me. He said they’re not too hard and mostly fiction.” He sighed nasally, leaning his head back and then forward again. ‘ughh okay nope can’t do that. eugh. How can y'all stand this? I can literally feel it draining into my-”

“Eww- Shadow gross! I don’t wanna hear about it.” Green made a face and patted his leg. “Drink your water, Vio’ll bring up some tea and whatever he’s brewing up down there. Let us know if you need anything else okay, buddy?” he got up and Shadow nodded, turning an agreement into another cough.

“Feel better,” he left him alone to his misery.

Shadow woke up, head feeling giant and chest tight. He sat forward coughing harshly. Someone next to him gently rubbed his back. Shadow’s eyes napped up, instantly relaxing when he saw it was Vio. “Hey…”

“Hey, love. How you feeling?”

“Same.” he frowned. Vio handed him a glass of honey yellow liquid that was purple on the bottom. It was warm to the touch. “?”

“It’s a tea short version. It has honey, lemon, menthol, elderberry syrup, cinnamon, and of course water. I made it sweeter for you.” Vio kissed his forehead. Shadow shut his eyes, the appreciation of care warming him in a way much better than the fever.

“I love you.” Shadow stirred the drink with the long spoon that was in the cup and drank some. “Oh, wow.” he chugged half. “I didn’t expect medicine to taste good?”

“It’s not quite medicine,” he smiled, “But close enough.” he handed over a small compressed thing. “This is, though. A new technique I’ve been working on with Syrup. It’s a bit much to explain everything but it should help your fever and swelling.”

“Are you saying that because there’s some kind of mushroom in it?” Shadow deadpans at him. Even if he couldn’t taste them, he absolutely hated mushrooms. Vio didn’t respond, only pushing the tiny piece at him. Shadow made a dramatic sigh that turned into a cough. “Fuck- fine. anything to feel better at this rate.”

“Take it whole without chewing, drink with it.”

“I know how to swallow, darlin.” Shadow laughed and winked. He winced and then took the medicine. “Ugggh.”

“Good boy.”

Shadow’s face pinked, and the whipped around the face him. “Excuse me!?”

“hahahaha,” Vio wrapped an arm around him. “You earned that one,” He maneuvered Shadow off the bed. “Come with me.”

“Where?” Shadow wobbled, dizzy. He helped lead him to their bathroom, where a hot bathrub steamed a little, smelling faintly of flowers. It had to be strong if Shadow could smell it in his state. The mirrors were all fogged up already.

“A warm bath is gonna help a lot. It soften the muscus in your nasal passages and lungs.”

“Can I have that in Hyrulian please?” Shadow pulled off his sweaty top and pants shamelessly. Despite his earlier joke, he really was in no mood to be fooling around like that right now.

“You’ll feel better. Sneeze and cough when you need to and get rid of it.” He translated, and helped Shadow into the tub.

“Oooh.” He laid back, the salted bath soothing him. He even tilted his head back a little against the ledge. “This is nice.” Vio sat next to him. “Thanks darlin.” he sighed and relaxed in the water, letting the warm steam help clear him up. Vio handed him tissues as he needed between small talk. Which mostly consisted of just Vio talking at him, instead of with, but he was okay with that. Vio leaned in with something on his hands. “??”

He started to scrub his hair with something sudsy. Shadow hummed and shut his eyes and he was pampered. Vio gently rubbing his scalp and washing him clean. “Okay, love, dunk for me?” Shadow submerged his head and came back up. “Perfect,” He grabbed a sponge and soap.

“You know I can bathe myself right?” Shadow isn’t actually protesting, as evident by his arm he puts out for him right away.

“I know. But I like taking care of you, you deserve it.” Shadow didn’t expect that, not in that sweet tone that Vio reserved only for him. His heart soared and he had to look away. He chuckled and washed him with care, taking some time. Down his thighs and between of course. Shadow grumbled at him for teasing him and he moved on. Vio left a delicate kiss to his lips.

“Don’t- you’re gonna get sick.” Shadow frowned sternly.

“Love, I’ve been sleeping and laying next to you. I’m going to get sick anyways.” he places another on his forehead again. He helped Shadow out of the draining tub and dried him off, while he held the counter for balance. Vio kissed his hand and arms and shoulders and stomach.

“Vio,” he warned.

“Mmmhm.” he relents. “Wait here a second, I forgot to grab clothes for you.” He hands over the towel to cover up while he stepped out. Shadow looked dup to the ceiling. He would be the death of him, he swore. But he did feel much better. Vio returned with some soft cotton pants and an undershirt. Shadow slipped into them, relishing the clean clothing. They walked back to the room where fresh bedding now covered their bed.

“Aw, Vi,” he started.

“Mm-m. It’s good for you. Sleeping in your own germs with only get you worse. Plus feeling clean makes you heal faster.” Vio laid him back down with a fresh blanket. “I’m gonna start on a stew with Red.”

“Potatoes??” he perked up.

“Of course, love.” He could hide vegetables easily in it if Shadow was distracted with his favorite starch. Blue knocked and walked in with a little bag.

“Hey, I got those candies.” he handed them over quickly. “Feel better.” he ran out of there. He really hated germs and sick. Vio thanked him as he ran and Shadow took one.

“I don’t know how I can thank all of you, you’re so nice.” Shadow sniffled and turned away his cough.

“Just try and get better. Worry about everything else later,” he pat his back and got up, “I’ll be right downstairs if you need me for anything.”

“Thank you.” he replied. Even though he felt awful at the same time, he felt really good. They were there for him. Shadow fell asleep like that, a tiny smile on his face.

#vidow #shadow link #four swords #vio link #chili writes #legend of zelda #fanfiction #red link #green link #blue link #home remedy #sickfic #comfort #fluff #domestic gays #kissing #tooth rotting fluff #bathing #potions and medicine

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heartofstanding · 1 year ago

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the body broken (excerpt) who wants siblings feels? I have sibling feels. this is from a wip that is on hiatus because I'm not sure whether I'm going to change the setting (it's currently set in Christmas 1403 but might be shifted to a month or two earlier or later) that focuses on Hal's first post-Shrewsbury reunions with his family.

At the top of the stairs, Hal stopped and leant against the wall to catch his breath. He felt very weak and tired – and sick in his heart. Why have I come here, he wondered and then told himself, his brothers and his sister. What if they, like their father, did not want to see him? He should not have come. He should have listened to Bradmore and stayed in Kenilworth. Courtenay squeezed his elbow gently.

‘It’s not far, your grace,’ Stanley said. ‘Just at the end of the corridor.’

Hal nodded. ‘In a moment.’

Bradmore was speaking but not to Hal, telling one of his assistants to go ahead and make the bed ready for him. Hal turned his head towards Courtenay.

‘I shouldn’t have come,’ he said.

Courtenay’s hand squeezed again. ‘I will be with you,’ he said, ‘whatever happens.’

Hal smiled at him. He thought of the days spent at Kenilworth, dozing in the gardens or by the banks of the mere. It would have been better had they stayed there. He couldn’t leave now – it was enough to make him want to weep, the idea of waking up tomorrow and travelling again, and the insult of it would be clear to his father.

‘I know,’ Hal said. ‘I am very glad of it.’

One of the doors on the side of the corridor opened, and then suddenly, John was there. He seemed no different from the last time Hal had seen him, his body stocky, his hair dark and cut short around his temples, his nose aquiline. Even his clothes were the same. The yellow velvet gown embroidered with blue cornflowers and curling leaves. He was frowning at something and then he stopped, looked up and saw Hal. Hal stepped back, treading on Courtenay’s foot.

‘Harry?’ John said.

Next, he was running, checking himself at the last before his arms were around Hal, hugging him. Hal felt Courtenay’s hand on his back, pushing him forward, and he grabbed John tightly, pressing his face against his dark hair.

‘Harry,’ John said. He pulled back, not quite letting go of Hal. ‘Are you – alright?’

His sharp eyes lingered on the scar and then turned up to Hal’s again, full of worry. Hal smiled – he felt thin, he felt as if he wanted to hug John and not let go. He had resigned himself, when the wound was fresh, that he would never see any of his brothers again. But John was there before him, not letting go.

‘Better than I was,’ Hal said. ‘But tired.’

‘His grace needs rest,’ Bradmore said. ‘It has been a long journey.’

‘Right, of course,’ John said. But he seemed reluctant.

‘You need not go,’ Courtenay said. Hal gave him a grateful look.

‘If you are quiet,’ Bradmore said, ‘my lord.’

‘John is very good at being quiet,’ Hal said, and felt John’s fingers dig in. ‘Of course he can stay.’

---

The bells were ringing for Matins when Hal woke. John was squirming out from under his arm – obviously trying very hard not to wake him but having failed to notice his endeavour was doomed. Hal sat up, pushing his hair back from his face, he needed to have it cut. It was still very dark, no light making its way past the shuttered windows.

‘Sorry,’ John said. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s fine,’ Hal said. ‘I need a piss.’

‘I was going to Matins,’ John said.

Hal frowned. He didn’t think John was that pious – his morning prayers had always waited until daylight, at least. Still, he meant what he said and used the close stool before washing his hands. His mouth felt very dry and he went looking for last night’s wine, sipping at it. John was still sitting cross-legged in the centre of the bed.

‘I’ve been going every morning,’ John said. ‘To pray for you.’

At once, Hal went to the bed and held John tightly. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

John buried his face in Hal’s shoulder, shaking. ‘We kept asking Father about visiting you. He said no.’

‘I know it wasn’t your choice,’ Hal said. ‘And I’m fine. Just tired.’

‘Do you think I need to keep going?’ John said. He leant back and scrubbed at his eyes. ‘See, I made God a promise that I would until you were well again. Are you well again?’

‘I don’t know,’ Hal said.

‘Then I should go,’ John said. ‘Humphrey made a promise to go on pilgrimage – I told him Father wouldn’t let him go alone so he manage to get Thomas to agree to go with him…’

‘Where are they going?’

‘Canterbury,’ John said.

‘Oh,’ Hal said.

‘Humphrey wanted to go to Italy,’ John said. ‘But Father said they had to stay in England and that God would understand.’

Hal rolled his eyes and ruffled John’s hair. ‘Of course he did. You better go if you’re not to be late. You can come back when it’s done.’

‘Only – Humphrey will be there,’ John said. ‘He’ll want to know where I’m going and if I tell him, he’ll insist on coming with me.’

‘He can come,’ Hal said. ‘But I’ll probably be asleep so tell him he has to be quiet.’

‘Right,’ John said. ‘Only – I wanted to…’

‘John,’ Hal said. ‘I’m not going anywhere. Not for a long time yet. We’ll have time enough to talk.’

---

Hal slept again and then woke hazily, feeling the bed either side of him. Someone lifted his arm and tucked himself under it – Hal glanced down, saw Humphrey’s dark, messy hair.

‘Harry,’ Humphrey whispered, sounding content.

‘Shh,’ John hissed. ‘Sleeping.’

When Hal woke again, it was later in the day. There was sunlight around the shuttered windows and John and Humphrey were playing chess on the floor by the fire. The pallets and other bedding had been packed away and Bradmore’s assistants were mixing unguents at a table. Hal looked around for Courtenay but could not see him.

‘Harry?’ Humphrey said.

‘I’m awake,’ Hal said and pushed himself out of bed to prove it.

Humphrey and John both jumped to their feet and Humphrey rushed at him, flinging his arms around Hal and pressing his face into Hal’s chest. Hal stumbled back a step but held Humphrey tight, closing his eyes tightly against the burning of tears in them.

‘Humphrey,’ John said, disgusted. ‘I told you.’

‘It’s alright,’ Hal said. ‘He’s fine.’

‘But—’

‘It’s fine,’ Hal said firmly. He pushed Humphrey back a little. He’d changed more than John, he’d grown taller and wider, his clothes new. He was wearing a blue gown embroidered with golden stars, his hair was curling over his forehead and he was crying. Hal bent his head and kissed him.

‘It’s alright,’ Hal said. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong.’

Humphrey nodded, hiccuped. ‘Does – does it hurt?’ he asked quietly. ‘Your face.’

‘Humphrey,’ John hissed.

‘No,’ Hal said. ‘Not anymore – well, not all the time.’

‘Is it hurting now?’

‘No,’ Hal said. He ruffled Humphrey’s hair, smiled. ‘Come on, who was winning?’

‘John, of course,’ Humphrey said. He took Hal’s arm, began to lead him over to the chessboard. ‘Can you help me?’

John made a disgusted noise and leant back on the reeds. Hal sat, cross-legged, next to the board and looked at it. Well, he could get Humphrey out of the situation he was in but it wasn’t worth upsetting John. And it was, he thought, best to pretend to be normal. As if nothing had changed.

‘I think he’s beaten you already,’ Hal said. ‘Why don’t we play dice instead?’

‘Alright,’ John said. ‘I’ll get some.’

‘Do you know where Courtenay is?’ Hal asked.

‘Mass,’ Humphrey said. ‘But that was – some time ago.’

‘Father wants to see him,’ John said. ‘Him and Bradmore.’

‘What for?’

‘To see how you are?’ John said.

Humphrey began clearing away the chess pieces and John came back with the dice. He shook them in his hand and then let them roll.

---

The bathwater was unbearably hot and distinctly green from the herbs that had been strewn in it. The smell was indescribable, the brown fennel was distinct but everything else was a muddle of sweet or bitter or floral. With the bath covered over and enclosed on every side with thick clothes, Hal sweated, his fingers curling around the edge of the bath. It was meant to cure whatever disease, grievance or pain troubled him and make him whole but mostly Hal thought he would emerge exhausted, sweaty and pink, ready for another bath before being rolled into his bath.

Courtenay was reading to him – Boethius, it sounded like – on the other side of the curtain but Hal was barely paying attention, mopping at his running nose. He groaned and tried to lift himself above the water but his body was too heavy and his hands slipped on the edge of the bath. Courtenay stopped reading.

‘Are you alright?’

Hal laughed; how was he supposed to answer that?

The curtains cracked open and Courtenay stuck his head through, face immediately flushing and hair beginning to dampen with the steam. Hal leant over to get a breath of the fresher air, feeling it briefly cool the sweat on his forehead.

‘The water’s hot,’ he said.

Courtenay wrinkled his nose and patted Hal’s sweaty hair. ‘I can tell.’

‘It’s fine, though,’ Hal said.

‘Despite the smell?’

Hal sniffed. ‘Given long enough, you stop noticing it.’

‘I see,’ Courtenay said.

His eyes sparked with amusement and he opened his mouth, only to jerk away as the door opened with a crash and Thomas’s voice began to fill the room. Hal leant back with a sigh, letting his chest sink further under the scalding water. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to withstand Thomas. He had half been bracing for Humphrey’s return – John, at least, understood the concept of quiet rest – but Thomas was the bigger trial.

‘Where is he?’ Thomas demanded. ‘Where is my brother?’

Hal heard Stanley’s quiet, reasonable voice murmuring something that hopefully would calm Thomas and get him to return in a day’s time.

‘I don’t care if he’s in the bath,’ Thomas said. ‘I haven’t seen him since – since February.’

Hal rolled his eyes and then stiffened, hearing feet stride towards the bath. He began to sit up properly, pushing his hair away from his face. His fingers touched the scar by accident, feeling the hard lines of it. He took a breath.

‘I also don’t care that you’re the archdeacon of Northampton,’ Thomas said. ‘Or even if you were the Archbishop of Canterbury or the Pope. If you try to stop me, I’ll thrash you.’

‘Calm down,’ Hal said. ‘You’re several months too late to be rushing to my deathbed.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t have been if I’d been allowed to,’ Thomas said. ‘You know that.’

Hal did. He let his head fall back against the sponge cushioning the edge of the bath.

‘How’s your son?’ he said. ‘Has John forgiven you for naming it after him?’

‘Of course not,’ Thomas said. ‘He’s still plotting his revenge. Can I see you?’

‘I’m in the bath.’

‘I’ve known what your cock looks like since we were toddlers.’

Hal groaned and covered his face. He felt acutely aware of Courtenay’s presence, no doubt hearting Thomas talk in such squalid, familiar terms whether he wanted to or not. It didn’t matter that Courtenay had also seen Hal’s cock – it felt too familiar, as if he was being reduced to his body and all its baseness and frailty.

‘Richard?’

‘I think he does mean to thrash me if I try to stop him,’ Courtenay said. ‘I’m too vain to risk my beauty for you.’

Hal smiled despite himself. ‘Thomas – it’s not pretty. My face I mean, not Richard.’

‘John said,’ Thomas said. ‘Just – Harry, please.’

‘Fine,’ Hal said and closed his eyes, bracing himself.

The curtains were pulled open, he could feel the cool air and his skin prickled with it. Thomas took a sharp breath in and then Hal felt Thomas’s blunt, calloused fingers on his face, just shy of the scar.

‘It’s not as bad as I’d thought it’d be,’ Thomas said. ‘I clearly am the better-looking one now but I’m almost disappointed your brain isn’t hanging out of your eye and your eye out of your nose.’

‘Thomas.’

‘Well, I am,’ Thomas said. ‘You just look like you with an ugly blot on your face.’

‘Am I supposed to be grateful for that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Thomas said. ‘I am.’

Hal snorted and opened his eyes. Thomas was bent over him, standing very close, and his face was lax with what looked like relief. The damp curtains were still gaping open but Courtenay had withdrawn. Hal shifted in the tub, his body too heavy, lax and overwarm.

‘Still, even if I am the most handsome, I’d wager a fair many women would think you very rakish and daring,’ Thomas said. ‘You might get a little John of your own soon enough.’

Hal felt himself go still and cold, even with the heat of the water. He didn’t want to think about sex or women pitying him or thinking him things he weren’t. He made himself laugh, at hair too late, and reach out and shove Thomas back.

‘You keep your mouth shut,’ he said. ‘If you wish to divert John’s revenge, I won’t be involved. But how is the baby?’

‘He’s alright,’ Thomas said. ‘Well, he still wets himself but that’s normal. He’s here, if you want to see him.’

‘That’s not a good idea.’

Thomas frowned at him. ‘He’s a baby, he’s not going to care about your face. Well, he might but that’s because he’s a baby and is distressed by beards and hennins. Your face isn’t that bad.’

‘Father would disagree.’

‘Father’s got dung for brains.’ Thomas’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you going to get out of there? I don’t mean this in a bad way but it doesn’t exactly smell pleasant in here.’

---

Thomas retreated while Hal was helped out of the bath, washed with clean water scented only with torn-up chamomile and mint, dressed in a woollen shirt and returned to his bed. Thomas took Courtenay’s chair and sat down, looking almost too big for it. Courtenay was by the window, reading some thick book Hal didn’t recognise, his face coloured blue with the light coming through the stained glass.

‘Shall I go?’ Courtenay said.

Hal said no at the same moment that Thomas said yes. Courtenay looked between for a moment, a small line etched between his brows, before his gaze settled on Hal. Thomas seemed to bristle, Hal shot him a glare and then smiled at Courtenay.

‘Go,’ Hal said. ‘You don’t need to be cooped up in an invalid’s room.’

Courtenay took his leave and went. Hal stared at the door shut behind him, hands picking at the blankets covering him. He felt unaccountably nervous and knew he had no reason to be. This was Thomas and Thomas had already made it plain he didn’t care about the injury.

‘How are you, really?’ Thomas said. ‘John didn’t say much. Does it still hurt?’

Hal shrugged. ‘Not often.’

‘And the rest of you?’

‘Tired,’ Hal said. ‘We left too late and came with too much haste and not enough rest.’

Thomas didn’t look convinced so Hal smiled.

‘I was much better at Kenilworth.’

‘You should’ve stayed there then,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m glad you’re here but if the journey was that hard on your health, you should’ve stayed away.’

‘I know,’ Hal said. ‘But I wanted to see everyone.’

‘Even her?’

Hal shrugged. Jehanne was an unknowable, unimportant entity. She had seemed somehow both overeager and distant when he had met her for the first time and he hadn’t seen her since. He doubted she liked him much, especially if she had heard nothing of him except what his father would say or Humphrey’s overzealous praise. He sighed and leant back on the pillows, letting his eyes drift shut. He would have to face Jehanne soon enough but for now she seemed unimportant.

‘We used to do everything together,’ Thomas said. ‘When did that stop?

‘When Mama died,’ Hal said.

‘No,’ Thomas said. ‘That’s not true. I went with you to Leicester, we were in Grandfather’s household together…’

‘I went there first, on my own.’

Thomas frowned. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘I was so angry – but I remember being.’

‘I still have the bruises.’

Thomas scoffed and leant back in the chair, making it creak. ‘But it doesn’t make sense. It was always us – we were always together. And then things changed – yes, it started with Mama dying and Father being spectacularly stupid about sending you to Lancaster but it didn’t stop there.’

‘When Father was exiled,’ Hal said. ‘I stayed with – with the old king and you went to France.’

‘Yes,’ Thomas said. ‘And when Father came back, you were suddenly the Prince of Wales and I was still me – he wouldn’t even let me to go fight with him. He took Humphrey but not me.’

Hal opened his eyes, saw Thomas’s eyes were half-lidded, a tear snaking down his cheek.

‘He didn’t want to risk you,’ Hal said. ‘He’s always loved you better.’

Thomas was shaking his head. ‘I hate him. He was useless – worse than useless. He wouldn’t tell us anything, wouldn’t let us see you. He didn’t even want me to know you were here. Said you needed your rest, as if he didn’t trust me with you – John told me, though.’

Hal hoped John wouldn’t get into trouble for it.

‘It’s alright, Thomas,’ Hal said. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘You better not,’ Thomas said stiffly. ‘I hated thinking of you alone – I should’ve been there and if not me, John. Or Humphrey, except he’d panic too much to be any comfort.’

‘It wasn’t so bad,’ Hal said. ‘I don’t remember much about it – and Grandmother came to see me. And Courtenay was there.’

Thomas stared at him and then shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t have been alone.’

‘I know,’ Hal said. ‘But I’m too tired to care about should and shouldn’t. A lot of things happened that shouldn’t have happened and we can’t change them because it’s too late, it’s over – all you can do is go forward.’

‘But I’m still angry.’

‘That’ll pass too,’ Hal said.

Thomas said nothing for a moment and Hal closed his eyes again, thinking he was falling asleep and telling himself that Thomas would not mind. The pillows were very comfortable and his body felt warm and lax.

‘I’m sorry about Hotspur,’ Thomas said at last. ‘I know you liked him. I did too.’

‘Yes,’ Hal said. ‘I did.’

‘Go to sleep,’ Thomas said. ‘I’ll fetch Philippa to see you in a little while, she’s been fretting.’

---

They all had supper together, sitting on the floor of John’s room since Hal was sick of his, and squabbling over the dishes. Hal found himself both exhausted and enlivened by it – it was enough to lean back on his hands and watch and listen to them but he was not able to participate as fully as he had once done and how he would’ve liked to do. Philippa kept offering him bites of food which he took to be polite and because it was too much effort to select portions for himself – he missed the simplicity of eating with Courtenay on the lawn of Kenilworth, sun turning Courtenay’s hair golden.

He missed Blanche too, moreover. She had left the following year to marry the German prince their father had chosen for her and without her, there seemed to be something pivotal missing. It was why, he suspected, that Philippa was pressed shyly between him and Humphrey and insisting on laving him with attention and morsels of food. He wrapped his arm around her and listened to John call Thomas stupid.

‘Do you want to go to bed, Harry?’ she whispered.

‘No, I’m right,’ he said. ‘Do you?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m glad you’re alright.’

‘Me too.’

He supposed Blanche would not know about his wounding, or if she did, it would only be from a letter from their father that said, the Prince of Wales has recovered from his injury. Hal could not fault Henry for that – it would’ve only distressed Blanche unnecessarily.

Philippa offered him the bowl of candied cherries, he took one and passed the bowl onto John. As he chewed on the cherry, he wondered if their father had been right all along to keep his brothers from seeing him. He had spoken glibly to Thomas of not remembering the days immediately after his wounding but he remembered enough to know he was glad not to remember more. He knew that Courtenay had been scarred by the experience of watching Hal in those days so it was good that his brothers had been spared that, at least. Perhaps it would have been better that they had not been told at all until Hal had healed enough that his survival was no longer a question.

‘I can’t eat any more,’ Humphrey said and lay down on his back. ‘I don’t think I can get up either.’

‘Well, you’re not staying here,’ John said. ‘This is my room.’

‘We could swap rooms?’

‘I don’t want to,’ John said.

‘Please?’

‘You don’t really want to either,’ John said. ‘You just want to be near Harry.’

‘So do you!’

‘So? I was given this room. You can’t have it.’

Hal bent his head. It was the sort of argument that he had always sorted out with ease before but now he didn’t know how to find a compromise. His mind kept working in circles – he couldn’t make either of them happy, he was tired, his stomach felt heavy with the food he’d eaten, John would want his space and deserved it but Humphrey was so pathetically sad when he didn’t get his way and they both wanted and deserved more time with him. His head was beginning to ache, he pushed his hand over his brow and winced at the stickiness the cherries had left on his fingers.

‘We could share?’

‘It’s my room, I don’t want you in it—’

‘Will you both be quiet?’ Hal snapped.

They were quiet but it wasn’t settled – he could feel them staring at him, alarmed, and knew that John and Humphrey would soon start blaming each other for his outburst. He didn’t want to deal with it.

‘And please – sort this out without me,’ he said. ‘Both of you are being horrid little shits.’

‘I’ll sort it, Harry,’ Thomas said, face white. ‘I think – it’s time for bed, right? Humphrey, you’re sleeping with me.’

‘But—’ Humphrey started and then stopped when both Hal and Thomas looked at him.

‘No,’ Thomas said. ‘And John? Stay in your own room.’

‘I wasn’t going to—’

‘I’m going to bed,’ Hal said.

He left and went back to his room, standing with his back against the door and feeling the cool wood through the layers of wool and fur he was wearing. He waited for a while, half expecting Philippa or one of his brothers to insist on seeing him. But they did not.

#sometimes i write things #i reworked the thomas scene and posted the edited version on her before it's in my wip wednesday tag #(which takes the view thomas came back from ireland in november heard hal was injured and immediately hotfooted it to him)#lancasterlings #the bath hal is in is in john russell's book of nurture as a medicinal bath

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