#prince Hal
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𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻
King Hal x fem reader.
A/N: In which the king isn’t happy with how his wife, the queen is treated.
(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(
You were chosen to be queen. Hal himself wanted you. But, in some ways, a lot of ways actually, you felt you weren’t meant to be a queen. You were very quiet and innocent, to scared to correct someone or stand up for yourself.
Now, Hal was always there to stand up for you, he was really very protective of you. He threatened men that mocked you, and declared to the people of England that you were his wife, and that they must accept that.
On this particular day, you were sat on a bench in a secluded area of the gardens, hiding from everyone, crying. Earlier that day there had been an incident, leading you to hide away from your husband and those he would send to look for you.
You had been on a stroll, earlier that day. You often went on strolls when Hal would have meetings. On this particular morning, you bumped into a man that served Paul. He was a sort of advisor and helped him stay in order. George, was his name.
You had never really warmed to him, as he constantly made you uncomfortable. He would send you odd looks, when Hal wasn’t looking, sometimes in places that no man but Hal should be looking.
“Sorry George” You said looking at the ground.
“Oh it’s fine your majesty, it’s my fault” he said with a disgusting smirk.
“Do you know where Hal is?” Your sweet voice said, wanting to see your husband.
“He’s busy right now” he told you.
You nodded turning to continue on your walk, when his voice continued.
“I could accompany you, you know” George said not even bothering to address you respectfully.
“Oh, it’s fine, really” you said going to turn.
“Are you sure, I’d like to” he said, clearly wanting you to agree to go with him.
“No really, it would be…improper” you said, with a polite smile, trying to leave.
But, to your shock, he grabbed your upper arm roughly, tracing his finger over your body.
“From what I’ve heard, you’re quite the improper girl” he whispered, his fingers sickly travelling all over you.
“W-What?” You said your voice trembling, pulling back slightly, but it didn’t work.
“The men talk, say that you’ve been quite 𝘐𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳” he said with a menacing smile.
This was when you lost it, you stared to ball your eyes out, ripping yourself away from his hold, running off to hide in the gardens, crying as you did, that’s where you found the little bench.
(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.
At that same time, Paul was leaving his meeting room, going to see you in your chambers. This was a daily routine for him, he truly loved him.
But a scowl made its way on his face when you weren’t there. “Where is the queen?” He yelled at the servants in the room.
“We, aren’t sure, your majesty” a man answered staring at the ground in fear.
“Is it not your job to take care of her when I’m not?” He yelled rage dripping from his voice as he grew more worried.
“Find her” he demanded with a cold voice.
They all scrambled, running in all directions to search for you, fearing for their lives if they didn’t.
Around an hour later, there was still no sign of you, Hal was getting very impatient. So he went to look for you himself.
He knew your favourite places in the castle and he knew one of which was the gardens, so he made his way there. He had searched almost all the gardens, until her heard a soft crying.
Hal eventually found you on that bench, as soon as he saw you, he was 𝘔𝘢𝘥.
“My love? What’s wrong?” He asked as he sat on the bench too, placing you on his lap.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, continuing to cry loudly into his chest.
“Are you hurt?” He asked with a concerned look on his face.
You nodded your head no and hugged onto him tighter, as the tears fell down your face.
“Love, you have to tell me what’s wrong, so I can fix it” he said kissing your head.
“It was…g-george” you cried.
“What about 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦?” He said, his face suddenly becoming cold.
“He, he said I was an improper lady! And h-he was touching me Hal” you hiccuped.
Hals phase froze in anger and shock. George was in the room when Hal first threatened everyone about going near his wife. He made it very clear she was to be shown respect. George was one of his most trusted men. 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.
“I’ll deal with him, this won’t happen again” he said kissing your hand.
You eventually lifted your head from his chest, as he wiped your tears from your cheeks.
“C-Can we go for a walk?” Your gentle voice asked.
“Of course, anything for you” Hal answered lifting her off his lap onto the ground, and taking her hand in his.
They walked the grounds talking about everything and anything, happy to be in each others company.
You hugged his side, yawning, suddenly becoming very tired.
“Do you want to retire” he said, his arm around your waist.
You only nodded in response, and you both headed back to your chambers.
He ordered the maids to run a bath for you, before kissing you softly, telling you he had something to take care of, and he’d be back later.
Around one hour later, you lay in the bath, the bubbles covering your naked body, and your eyes closed, enjoying the heat.
The door swung open to reveal your husband once more, but this time with blood on his hands.
“Hal?” Your little voice squeaked.
“It’s not my blood, I only took care of something that needed to be handled” he said sitting beside you, and giving you a kiss on the forehead.
You nodded, your eyes heavy as you leaned into his touch. You yearned to be in bed.
Hal caught onto this, and ordered the maids to help you prepare for bed, and get into your nightdress.
“What did you do to him, George I mean” you whispered, playing with your fingers.
Hal smiled before saying “I taught him a lesson” and giving you a long kiss, and bidding you goodnight.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭,
𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯.
A/n
I hope you all enjoyed, I’ve been wanting to write for Hal for some time now so finally I did!!
#timothee chalamet x reader#timothée chalamet#prince hal#king hal#henry v x reader#2024#dune 2024#paul atreides#timmy chalamet#the king 2019
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My Lord (Prince Hal x fem! Reader Oneshot)
Summary: After you dance with another man, Prince Hal, your royal intended has a confession to make...
Warnings: SMUT! 18+ (fingering, p in v sex, doing it on a desk), historical inaccuracies for the sake of vibes, grammar and spelling mistakes, angst and fluff.
Dick-tionary: Smut starts at “Kiss me again, my dove,” and ends at "You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle. "
Word Count: 3K
A/N: From @muddyorbsblr's request! It ended up being longer, oops. But enjoy!
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr
Despite your fine dress and the rich wine flowing, you felt somber at your betrothal ball. Not that the ball itself was a sad event. No, you were not merry from everything around you. It was all merry with the throne room decorated with flowers and jigs being played by the musicians. Your melancholy was due to your intended.
Of all the good lords and gentlemen on this green isle, only one was destined to be the next king. And that was who you were going to marry. Your parents were thrilled when the king agreed to the marriage. They smiled and embraced you as an artist hugged their painting. They managed to sell you to the highest bidder.
His Majesty Prince Henry the Fourth of Lancaster. The highest bidder indeed.
Or Hal, as the taverns ruffians called him. Hal. Riotous, dishonorable, pranking, thieving, tavern hopping, wench chasing, sack drinking Hal. Beautiful, princely, decadent Hal. Every time his brothers had to tell their father the truth of Hal’s layabouts…the king would turn red with fury. Not that you were surprised.
Even if the scoundrel you were going to call your husband had been kind to you these past few months. He would be by your side. And trying to win you over or get you to smile. Flirt with you- he did to hundreds of women at this point! No doubt! Your inner giddiness was mixed with a silent rage and you weren’t sure which would pop out first each time he got your hand and kissed it gently. Hal was beautiful. A handsome, handsome man who wore his doublets tight on his lean frame and walked with a swagger, his auburn curls freed about his head. There was a charm to his manner, and feelings were in you when you looked at him. Feelings you didn’t like. Feelings you didn’t dare name.
For that, you remained polite. Never forward. Nice, but nothing more. For what else could you do? The world of court could be deadly and dangerous. The world’s eyes were on you. You couldn’t afford to make a reckless move.
Despite the garden walks and meals, there was that sliver of distrust. If you didn’t see him, he could be on the floor of the filthiest bar in Eastcheap passed out on the floor from drink. Or in a room with two tavern women in positions that would make a sailor blush.
And the last picture of him in bed with other women- it made you want to scream and sob and throw your goblet at the wall until it smashed into a hundred bits and then pick your skirts, march to the other end of the room, and slap him hard across his beautiful face.
You took a deep breath.
It was just your imagination. Nothing actually happened. One inhale, then another exhale. The walls were grey stone, the candlelight yellow, and the music from a flute was playing something fast.
Why were you like this, you had to remind yourself! You didn’t like him! Why should that matter? You had to remember how much you didn’t care and didn’t like him.
He could have every woman in England on their knees for him every night and you would not care. You would go about your merry way and when you didn’t have to squeeze out a son, you would enjoy the monetary benefits of servants, fine dresses, horses, gold, jewels, money to buy whatever thing you wanted, and the freedom to do as you pleased as queen.
You held your chin up. Only glad it was a lovely party. All were taking gentle sips of wine, sampling the roast boar, listening to lutes, and laughing over nothing. You felt like doing none. In a whole crowd of people, you felt alone, isolated, and cut off. Like a foreigner trying to make a friend but never knowing how to speak the language. They gathered and talked…and here you were. The most wanted and yet also the most unwanted.
Taking a deep breath, you continued to walk in to try to get your mind off of things.
There were dances as well. But you felt as if your soles were made of lead. For all were celebrating your marriage to this scoundrel.
This beautiful, delectable, leather-clad scoundrel. Looking at him across the room, something inside you churned. And you were frightened to name it.
He was in the corner, talking to his brothers. You turned your eyes down. For the party was in swing and in a way, as if they forgot you were its purpose. They wanted to laugh and gossip and drink. Forget their worldly cares and be merry.
You brought your eyes up to search for him. Your heart beat a little harder seeing Prince Hal at the other end of the room. How delicious he looked. His tight leather jacket was the color of the wine. He preferred rougher, bawdier parties- that was why he was frowning as his father went up to talk to him. And here you were, just to be tolerated as his bride. It seemed queenhood was a lifetime away, as was your marriage. For all of this fuss over you both being joined, you couldn’t help but feel separated.
Taking a deep breath, you put both hands on your cup and took another sip, resisting the urge to gulp down your wine and let the alcohol take its effect.
As you walked in, the Lord of Warwick went up.
“My lady- here is my nephew, Thomas! He’s going to appear at Court more often!” the lord introduced.
You curtsied and gave a smile.
The Lord of Warwick’s nephew with his own blonde hair and blue eyes and skin that tanned. He was a polite, warm friendly boy. For having just met him, he left a good impression on you. The uncle even stepped aside to let you talk. Then Thomas held out a hand.
“They’re having dances. Would you give me a dance, my lady?”
“I would love to,” you replied.
You enjoyed his company as you danced. He was very good too- Hal himself had no “strength in measure” and was inches from always stepping on your toes the grand total of two times you danced. Passing between couples, joining, parting, and reasoning hands to the lute music. You felt at peace.
Little did you know Hal’s eyes were on you.
They were on you every time you the whole evening.
Prince Hal scowled. He was practically red with anger. The second the dance ended, he marched up to you. Thomas looked sickly pale and you felt your stomach drop. You never saw Hal himself have any anger and part of you was terrified. They always say it’s the ones who are never angry you watch out for.
“My lord, what is the matter?” you asked after your curtsey.
“I would like to speak with my lady intended,” Hal ordered.
Thomas handed you over quickly.
Amidst the ball, Hal grabbed your arm. Fie, his hand- large, beautiful hands taking a whole of your arm and dragging you to the hallways and through a door. Jesu, was he going to hurt you? Hal never once did anything that would harm you. He seemed too mischievous and cheerful to seem capable of raising his hand to a woman, much less you. There was a fierceness on his fast that made your heart race. You didn’t know if you were feeling lust, terror, or both at once.
The room was a study. The night sky shone outside, though there were lights from the torches and candles. None were inside-perhaps at the party. With tall bookshelves and desks, it would have been a comforting room had your heart been beating wildly against your ribs.
He looked at you up and down. He saw your dress, how it formed you well, and hugged you in the right places. A warmth flushed over you, and you realized you were panting a little to deepen your breaths. But his face was still angry. Beautifully, beautifully angry.
“What, what is the matter?” you asked. Hoping to get this over with quickly.
“Quite a bit, that is the matter!” Hal replied, ruffling his curly hair.
You gestured at the door.
“My lord, they will notice we are gone. We have a party to attend to…”
Hal reached up a hand that he held in the air. You looked back at him. His voice remained soft, matter of fact, right to the bone.
“My lady, we have to discuss young Warwick. The way you were dancing at him, smiling at him.”
“Oh, him!” you said. You had deduced it. He just had to say it himself.
“Yes! The look he was giving you like he would be falling before your feet any minute! Your smile at him! And you were encouraging him, and I-”
“Are you jealous, Harry?” you interrupted, blurting out the obvious.
He turned a little pink.
“Yes, well- what if I am? Should I not be if a gentleman dances with my lady?”
“A lady can rarely turn down another man. My mother told me it is impolite to refuse a man’s offer to dance!” you reasoned.
Hal leaned closer to you.
“You have promised yourself to me, not him! You’re engaged to me!”
He paused and his mouth hung in mid-air. You saw his eyes were shining bright, he was…on the brink of tears. The jolliest scoundrel in all of England and…he was crying. When you imagined him with other women earlier…was that the very feeling he was having as well?
You closed the distance to him, you offered your hand and he took it.
“Hal, I am sorry. I didn’t think you would be upset or even care that I danced with him…” you consoled.
He brought up a hand and wiped a tear off with his palm.
“I forgive you, my lady. Only….That the way you were beaming at him, and not at me, I…I don’t even have words for it and- YN- it makes me angry because…because…I wish it were me you were smiling at…me and only me. That one smile. Then I’d know for sure that you’d love me and we could be find a way to-”
You gasped.
“What did you say?!”
Your face was closer to his, your voice even softer. He paused. His tears stopped.
“You…you love me?”
He flushed, hung his head low, and then back up.
“I do, my sweeting. I love you so much. I don’t know how else to say it or what speeches or things to give. If I am under your spell, I never wish to be out of it. I don’t ask you to love me back at all…I only ask you…you… pity me.”
His face was right before words. Your own mouth began to speak of its own accord. The music was softer, and distant, as if the ball was a world away.
“Hal…even with everything in Eastcheap, I…I… I…I cannot help but…but want to see you, and speak to you, I think of you and wonder what you are doing when you’re away. And I…I worry about you. I want you happy- more than happy, safe.”
He closed the distance and kissed you. The first kiss you ever had other than chaste pecks on the hand. You shuddered at it as he wrapped his hands around you, one hand crawling up your back. He knew his way around a woman’s body. And he knew what would make your knees tremble. You melted into his arms, collapsing into the kiss, into the embrace. He tasted of wine, of freedom.
He let go. But it was as if something awoke that was long asleep. You let him keep his hands on you, to feel your body beneath your dress—one on your hip, fingers inches away from the most private, precious of places on you. You kept on babbling despite yourself.
“All the battles your father sends you on and… and…I was worried, worried you would die…worried something would happen to you- and then, the Eastcheap visits….I was worried…worried you and Doll would.”
“There were no whores. Not since we’ve met,” he replied.
You kissed him again, and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms to feel his back. Dizzy and drink on him. You heard his moan.
He leaned back on a chair and had you straddle him. You gasped, feeling your legs come apart. Places between you were starting to dampen and it was just over where his most secret places were. You were never this close, this intimate with each other
“Kiss me again, my dove,” he commanded.
You kissed him again, his fingers crawling, up your leg. He found your hip and then moved you. You moaned from the friction, the touching and brushing of your bodies.
But you wanted it, you didn’t stop him.
His hands were over you, greedily touching since you were all his now-his betrothed, his wife, and soon his queen- and he would make sure you never forgot it. He gave you a last grind of your hips.
His hands desperately searched your clothes, trying to find the seams. But you were aching, going up for him, needing him.
“Hal- Hal!” you whispered
“And what if I do? I can’t bear it- the longer I’m with you, the more desire overcomes me- You drive me mad- I can’t, I can’t take it, my dear, my love-I-I have to ravish you, here-now-”
“Yes, you may…”
He slid aside the papers and books so the desk was clear. You swallowed, getting incredibly wet but excited with his flushed face. But his eyes determined, an animal after his prey. And nothing could tear him from his prize.
He kissed you, prompting you to sit. He undid a bit of your bodice, pulling it down, finding your breasts. The cold air touched it as his pupils darkened over the sight of you.
“You’re exquisite, darling, and you’re not his, you’re mine-”
Once they were revealed, he fondled them, thumb grazing over the hard nipples. You moaned appreciatively. All while he kissed your neck.
“Say it, say you’re mine,” he whispered.
“I’m yours,” you replied.
He then freed a hand. It moved up your leg.
“All of this, this beauty, it is all mine-and I’ll drive you there, until you cry out for all of them to hear.”
slid a finger inside and you gasped, feeling it stretch you. You gasped as he curled up- surprised his long finger could go so deep, and find a spot that brought so much pleasure and pain as he discovered the little nub inside you.
“My- my lord!”
He kissed your neck again, then looked at you, smugness spread on his lips.
“Yes….yes, call me that.”
He gathered your skirt up and then undid his codpiece and released his pants, standing at full attention. You gave a small gasp at the sight of his size. He looked at you darkly, a new tone in his voice- deadly and commanding, a king to his whore
“You will be good and make it fit, every bit of it. And you will call me my lord.”
His hands made your legs come wide apart, he moved you up. He was slow, entering you, so you got used to it. You let out a moan, tugging onto him.
“Yes…take it…like a good girl…take it.”
He forced your legs further apart, sheathing you in with a grunt. You let out a sound, your insides penetrated, clutching onto him, feeling your bare breasts against his leather. Your blouse fell lower, exposing both. He then gave a first, sloppy thrust. Then he was seated inside you.
“My lord!” you cried out.
“There-there- I will make you scream it louder,” he growled.
Then he began thrusting—his moans in your ear. You dug your fingers into his shoulders and grabbed your hips, keeping tight. The desk made a sound as you did. It began slowly.
“My-my lord, oh- gods- yes, there, my lord-gods-gods blood-”
It then picked up, your breasts bouncing and your heart racing. All you knew was him, felt was him. You were moaning even louder. It was a desperate, animal. Pounding his hips into yours.
He released one hand. It found your nub between. You gasped. He then strummed it with each deep, forceful, desperate pounding.
“H-My-My lord I-I-there-oh-oh god-I’m-I’m going-going to-to die, but- don’t-don’t-don’t stop-”
“You’re close, you’re-you’re close, darling-call me that-yes-now-fuck,yes-yes-
“Say it, say it when you cum-I’m-I’m going to cum-cum inside- cum, fie, lady- fie, it’s on me now- cum, fie, lady -cum!”
He picked it up incredibly fast, you held onto him, your pleasure spinning out of control.
“Yes- close, close- come on now, give in- let go-”
With a grunt, his seed shot into you and the release of pleasure broke inside you. You didn't say his title but gasped. The light had hit you and made everything duller, things spun, and you felt as if you were in oblivion.
In a final whisper, you only whispered once more “My…my lord…” Your nails dug into him- your lord, your intended, your prince, and your husband. A marriage not sworn but already consummated.
He pulled out, and then cupped your face, “as you are my lady.”
You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle.
He helped you off and then readjusted your dress so all was well. Making sure the blouse covered you up and that your skirt was in place.
“Are you not hurt?” he asked.
“Not a bit.”
He wrapped a protective arm around you, leading you out.
“Here…we must return to the party…I will fetch us some wine.”
“And…you can have the next dance, my lord,” you said.
He smiled at you- not a naughty smile, but a kind, genuine smile that burst with love.
“As you have all of mine, my lady.”
His smile shone brighter than any candlelight. He gave you a last kiss before you were on his arm, returning to the party.
#smut#carrie writes#prince hal#prince hal x reader#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston characters#angst with a happy ending#the hollow crown#prince hal fanfiction#prince hal x you#prince hal x y/n#prince hal smut#prince hal imagine#prince hal the hollow crown
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the wild thing about henry iv and hal is they clash constantly but so much of their rhetoric on kingship is
genuinely
exactly
the same
henry iv thinks his son doesn't understand the lessons he's trying to teach him. meanwhile hal has already internalized them so perfectly that he's pulling off the same strategy so well that even his father has no idea.
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bitch please I need part 2 of Timmy character cuddle now please
Theodore "Laurie" Laurence
he's madly in love with you, and totally obsessed, so he's always down for cuddling, or any type of hug to just hold you in his arms.
he always makes sure that you are physically and mentally comfortable in all situations, and cuddle time is no different. He asks things like, "Is it alright if I put my arm here?" "Is this comfortable for you?" "You can go to sleep like this, right?"
loves it when he feels all manly holding you against him as his little spoon.
oftentimes likes to read to you as you rest your head on his chest and caresses your hair.
King Henry V "Hal"
not into it.
he wasn't raised to show soft emotions like love or show any type of affection or intimacy.
but he will cuddle with you for a while, only if he knows it will lead to sex, which is one of the few ways he knows how to show his love for you.
"As my Queen," he says, "You are the only person in the world with my permission to hug me, or even touch me."
he will kiss your cheek or the top of your head.
he will let you lay on his chest at night while you sleep.
Kyle Scheible
he is like King Hal in the way that he isn't a super emotional guy.
will cuddle as long as sex follows.
will probably try to talk you out of cuddling so he can talk about something more important, like the number of civilians killed in Iraq or the government putting tracking devices on us.
shares a hand-rolled cigarette with you as you cuddle. it's his way of being close, but still casual and carefree.
gives you surprisingly sweet, tender kisses in odd places, like your elbow.
Elio Perlman
he might initiate cuddles by grabbing your waist playfully, and steal some kisses on your neck, maybe some silly little love bites too.
sometimes he wants to cuddle with the promise of love making, but other times, he just wants to feel pampered by you. He likes for you to play with his hair, and to idly run your fingertips over his face as you watch tv together. but if it's quiet and he's totally relaxed and laying across your lap, he might softly hum the tune he's currently learning to play on piano.
he might bring a peach to bed so you can share a bite. He loves looking at you, loves watching you take a bite of the juicy fruit, and maybe you lick the juices off his fingers before he kisses you, to taste the peach on your lips.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar
#timothée chalamet#timmy chalamet#timothée imagine#cmbyn#call me by your name#the king netflix#prince hal#little women#theodore laurie laurence#theodore laurence#lady bird#kyle scheible#elio perlman#headcanon#character headcanons#cuddling
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To Wait For You Is All I Can Do by @late-to-the-party-81
Thor
My King by @fluffyprettykitty 🔥
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The Lancastrian casting did NOT have to go this hard in the Hollow Crown... Like excuse me who said they could make ALL the Henrys hotties?
Like y'all I was already pro-Lancaster I didn't need this kinda propaganda to seduce- I mean induce me
#hollow crown#henriad#the henriad#Shakespeare#jeremy irons#tom Hiddleston#Prince hal#henry v#Henry iv#luke treadaway#henry Tudor#Richmond#henry vii#richard iii#benedict cumberbatch#Beanstalk Cumberbundtcake#tom sturridge#henry vi#the war of the roses#war of roses#wars of the roses#lancaster#york#house of york#house of Lancaster#red rose#white rose#to be fair i did like dad York he was cool and i sympathized with him#his sons... less so#especially Richard
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This demo album is literally all I can think about right now.
#shakespeare#musical theatre#musicals#brave sons of england#bsoe#henry iv#henry v#richard ii#richard ii of england#prince hal
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|𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦|
King hal / Henry V x fem lady!reader
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𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳�� 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘺.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭. 𝘈𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘢𝘭, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦.
𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦'𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘱, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺. 𝘏𝘦'𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘩𝘦'𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 king. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬.
𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴. 𝘈𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘹. 𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘴 𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.
𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘭.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 ��𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺.
𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥. 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘶𝘵. 𝘚𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝗵𝗮n𝗱𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲.
𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘏𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘆𝗼𝘂.
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘴.
𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 t𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.
"𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤" 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴, 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 "𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦" 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨.
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 s𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯.
"𝘉-𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
"𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘪 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦" 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥, 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘪𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦.
𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰. 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘨𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘵.
𝘌𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘺. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦.
#henry v x reader#prince hal x reader#the king netflix#timothee chalamet x reader#prince hal#timothée chalamet#king hal#timmy chalamet#paul atreides#dune part two
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My lord
Prince Hal x black princess!reader
a/n: I’m back and I’m happy to show you this fic that I couldn’t wait to post, I wanted it to be a one shot but I thing I’ll make a 2nd part, tell me what you think about it! Sorry if the language is not perfect I’m not English so it was hard to find the perfect words for the situation
my masterlist
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genre: fluff, smut
words : 3k
warnings: smut !! slight racism( not from Hal!) slight misogynistic (not from Hal!), a little god complex lol, Hal and reader being fast at acknowledging their feelings
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You glared at your father, seeing him bow in front of the England King who was looking down at the two of you, clearly waiting for you to show some type of courtesy.
“Excuse me for the behaviour of my daughter, she is young and foolish.” your father explained to the man in front of you and a scoff escaped him.
“Being young is not an excuse, my youngest son, Thomas of Lancaster, is a respectful and obedient child.” He smirked in the direction of his son, looking at him with pride. “You should educate your daughter Sir, if she keeps this attitude no sane man would want to marry her.”
You maintained your calm and fought yourself to not roll your eyes at him and his stupid son.
“It's a pleasure to finally work with people from overseas.” The king of England said with a condescending attitude, clearly looking down on your father and his kingdom. Your father didn’t even bother to tell him that he wasn’t a representative of all overseas, he was a calm and wise man, knowing that you shouldn’t bother to be angry at fools. You, on the other hand, didn’t have his patience and as the time flew you only wanted to slap this petty king in the face and go back to your country where people had a lot more manners.
——
You were sitting at the banquet, clearly uncomfortable, everything was so different from your ways.
“You’re beautiful,” began the young son of Henry IV, sitting right next to you, “We never see people like you around here.” He stated and with his smile you understood that it was supposed to be a compliment. You nodded with a polite smile as the boy kept glancing at you throughout the night, trying each time to find a reason to talk to you.
“Well, look who decided to show up.” Exclaimed the King bitterly. Everyone turned their head to the majestic wooden entrance door, seeing a young slightly curly haired man, standing there, confidence but also annoyance and strength radiating off him. “Seems like my fool of an heir has decided to show up for once. What is bringing you here?”
“Your invitation father.” The man blankly stated as he sat at your table and you now had the occasion to look at the integrality of his features. Even if his hair was slightly long you could still see his defined jaw and cheekbone. He had a tired gaze, with dark circles decorating his greenish eyes and even if you knew that it wasn’t decent, you couldn’t help but let your eyes travel to his neck and collarbone, seeing the dark marks dotting his skin. The prince seemed to have decided to abandon all of his duties to enjoy the various pleasures of the common people.
“I’m glad you finally decided to leave the mud and prostitutes.” Henry IV muttered to his son who didn’t answer, only the way his jaw clenched indicated that he had heard his father’s remark.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity for you, Thomas left your side to go dance with some duchess, which left you the time to breathe a little bit. Thomas was a gentleman, representing perfectly how a prince should behave, but he was smothering you. Most of the guests were dancing so the table you were sitting at was almost empty. As you scanned the room, your eyes catched the eyes of the oldest King’s son who was already watching you. You quickly derived your gaze, hoping he wouldn’t mind you. However, the man saw this exchange as a good moment to approach you and before you even knew it he was now sitting in front of you.
“I’m sorry to intrude like this,” he began, his low voice pleasing your ears, “I know I never come in this castle but I’m sure I’ve never seen you before.” His eyes were lingering on your every feature.
“It’s because it’s my first time coming here Sir.” You said and watched a little smile forming on his face.
“Well, what a pleasure to meet you Lady..?” He let his voice trail, waiting patiently for your name while he took your hand gracefully in his.
“Y/n.” You answered, your breath was slightly cut off by the tender kiss he laid on the back of your hand.
“Lady Y/n, I’m Hal.” He smiled, his eyes almost felines and you just nodded, his hand not letting yours go. You found it odd to see that he wasn’t bragging about his title, all of the people you met here were obsessed by their nobility.
“If you allow me, Sir, I’d like to retire and go get some rest.” You asked even if you planned to leave no matter the answer he gave you.
“Of course beautiful, sleep well.” He playfully said and you refrained from laughing which made him smile.
Your room was spacious, and well decorated. A guard had escorted you and a maid was staying near in case you needed any help. That, plus the pretty prince you had the chance to meet was making you relativize on this little stay. As you hopped in the bath the maid had prepared for you, you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about the mysterious prince that brightened up the annoying banquet. Thinking about the softness of his hand around yours, you let your hand travel slowly to your core, taking your time to caress your chest and thighs before finally letting your fingers play with your clit, imaginating that it was his long and delicate fingers. You let out a soft sigh at the memory of his delightful mouth on your flesh and wondered how his lips will feel in all these inappropriate places of your body.
After your relief you wrap yourself in your towel, using all these foreign products to oil your body before finally putting on your night clothes.
The next morning the maid woke you up by pulling the curtains to let daylight enter your room. The warmness in the room was enjoyable but you wish you could stay a bit more in your sheets.
“The prince of Wales requests your presence, your Highness.” The maid sweetly said as she served your tea before preparing your clothes for the day.
“Where should I meet him?” You asked without even taking in the fact that it was perhaps inappropriate to meet the prince alone in what seems to be a private meeting.
“He’s waiting for you behind your door, he asked me to demand your permission to come in.” You couldn’t believe how this man was, he really didn’t care about etiquette did he?
“Then tell him to come in.” At your words she opened the door, revealing Hal who wasn’t even dressed up for the day. He seemed so normal that you almost forgot the formalities.
“You can leave us.” You sweetly said to your maid as she slightly bowed before leaving. Hal immediately jumped on the occasion to approach you as you were sitting on your bed watching him.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you were clouding my dream.” He announced with a sultry voice, “my Lady, you are all I have ever sought, and if having you means accepting my noble life, the tasks and obligations that go with it, then I will. I’ll do it just to carry you on the throne and to call you my queen. I’ll do it to be able to make love to you every day passionately, to see you bear my heirs. I know it’s indecent, I know it’s not how we’re supposed to do it, I should demand your hand to your father and I promise I will. Love me Lady Y/n, please, I’ve done a lot of things that someone like me shouldn’t have done but I will abandon it all for you, for your love. I don’t care what the people will think about us, I don’t care what the kingdom will think. The only thing I can care about right now is you and the immense crave for your affection I have. Love me, let me take care of you like you deserve it, let me be your lover, even your worshipper if it means I’ll have even a little fragment of your attention. I know we just met but I’ve never felt this way for anyone before.”
The curly haired boy was panting, and so were you. It was all so sudden but horribly delicious. His hands had found yours during his speech and your nails were now scratching softly his skin as your eyes glossed on the way his lips were slightly quivering or his hands were shaky or even how his eyes were full of hope and a glint of passion was drowned in them.
“Sir…” your voice was so small, you even had difficulty hearing yourself, “This is so wrong, so wrong on so many levels.” His face dropped at your words. “At the same time it’s so delightful to hear you say all of that out loud-” Before you could add anything else his soft lips were on yours, moving slowly, lovingly. His tongue was playing with your bottom lips and the sweet sounds of your whimpers and slight moans could be heard. Your voice was making the prince completely wild, now sucking and biting your bottom lip to hear more of it. His hand was now on your thigh, his hand grabbing your dress to the point where his knuckles were now white. You took his hand in yours, slipping it gently under your dress, making him sigh of pleasure at the touch of the softness of your skin. He gently separated his lips from yours as you admired the now plump and rosy aspect of them.
“Let me have you.” His voice was almost begging you and you were ready to give yourself to him but a shy knock at the door stopped the magic of the moment.
“Come in.” You frustratedly said and immediately wandered off of Hal, fixing your dress as he looked everywhere but at his brother accompanied by guards. Thomas cleared his throat in embarrassment and confusion, not understanding why his older brother was in your room, on your bed.
“Lady Y/n, I was wondering if you’ll be pleased to go on a walk with me, I could show you the castle.” Thomas gently asked, watching his brother weirdly from time to time.
“Oh…” You discreetly eyed Hal, seeing the way his jaw clenched and his dark gaze was fixated on his younger brother. “I… Yes Sir Thomas,it would be my pleasure.” You said reluctantly, your nobility showing. Hal stepped out of the room, anger clearly radiating from him as he purposely bumped into his brother.
—
“Was my brother bothering you in your room? If it’s the case you can tell me, I’ll make sure that it doesn't happen anymore, he has no manners or respect.” Thomas stated as he was slowly walking with you through the castle.
“Not at all, he was just making sure I had everything I needed.” You lied and the prince next to you attentively watched your side.
“You shouldn’t be involved with him, he has damaged our name by his many scandals, he is not a man of good faith. I wouldn’t want him to tarnish your name with his inappropriate behaviour.” You quickly understood that Thomas was suspecting his brother to want to have sex with you, and even if you wanted it, the fact that he noticed that embarassed you.
“I don’t think your older brother is capable of such a thing.” You immediately answered and the boy scoffed
“He is reputed in all the country for his many mistresses. Initially he was the heir of my father but with how he abandoned our kingdom to his now life of debauchery, I have a chance to become Henry V.” He proudly announced and you politely smiled at him even though you didn’t care about what he was saying.
“You should give a little more credit to your older brother my Lord, I’m sure he has his own reasons to act the way he does.” You gently said and Thomas reluctantly nodded.
——
You asked to receive your dinner in your room even if it surely offended the King that you didn’t sit at the table to eat with him and his other subjects. You were too tired to speak or act like you cared about the King’s life and decided that eating alone was the best solution to not be rude to anyone around the table and disrespect them.
As you finished eating, you looked at yourself in the mirror, eyeing every jewellery that decorated your body. Some of them had just been gifted to you by the youngest prince of England and you couldn’t help but think it was a way of courting you and you didn’t like that.
You didn’t even hear the door of your room opening before feeling Prince Hal’s hands on your waist, admiring you in the mirror with loving eyes.
“How did you manage to enter my room?” You asked, smiling at him and he returned it immediately.
“Even if I’m not appreciated in this castle I’m still the prince.” You slightly laughed and Hal’s hand toyed your new necklace. “Is this a present?” He softly asked before you enveloped his hand with your.
“A present from your brother.” You simply answered and Hal scoffed before delicately taking off the necklace of your body. Before you could say anything a beautiful gold necklace replaced the old one and Hal laid a gentle kiss on your neck.
“So much more beautiful.” He proudly whispered as he turned you around, his hands on your waist, admiring you like you were some sort of goddess that he wasn’t even sure he could touch.
“Thank you Hal.” You shyly smiled.
“Are we finally giving up on manners?” You nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck and saw the way he smirked while looking at your figure.
“Please, don’t make me regret this.” You simply stated, your eyes lost in his with a loving stare.
“I was craving to see you tonight at the table, you’re the only reason I stay at this castle you know” a little smile decorated his lips
“ I can neither understand nor bear English manners, no offence” Hal simply nodded before taking your hand in his.
“Myself, cannot bear English manners.” Hearing your laugh, Hal looked attentively at you, admiring the woman who stole his heart so fast. “My lover, my beautiful lover, your beauty is almost painful.” His hand was now on your cheek, watching your loving eyes.
“You’re flattering me.” You said as your fingers found their way to his curls.
“I would never be, I would never lie to you my dear. The words you hear right now are the words of a man in love.”
“And the look you’re getting now is the look of a woman in love” you lovingly said and Hal gently pressed his lips on yours, kissing you tenderly, showing all his love to you.
Your hands were now on his neck as your lips moved perfectly in sync. It was so bad but felt so good. You knew that If anyone saw you like that you would be dishonoured but the idea of getting caught only made you more aroused.
“Hal,” you whimpered as his lips traveled from your mouth to your throat. He shushed you as he smiled against your skin, biting it softly but retaining himself to mark you.
“God I can’t wait to be married to you so I can show the entire world that you’re mine, I’ll show everyone what a filthy good girl you are to your King.” Hal whispered in your ear and seeing him like that was making you completely question your virtue and if it was even as necessary as people made you think.
“I thought from your behavior that you didn’t want to be King.” You managed to let out and Hal chuckled.
“How can I make you queen, my queen, if I don’t accept my obligations as an heir to become the King?” He playfully asked and stopped his kisses and before you could protest he simply locked the door. “Let me please you.” He lustfully said, waiting for your approval before guiding you to the luxurious bed of the room. Your nightgown wasn’t covering anything and Hal’s eyes were immediately captured by the view of your hardening nipples. His imposant hand captured your breast, massaging it softly, loving the soft sound you were making from such a little action.
“May I?” He asked his other hand ready to slip under your dress.
“Please my King” you moaned and his hand touched the wet patch of your undergarments. His fingers danced on your cunt, teasing you to hear you beg.
“What do you want?” His sultry voice asked, a playful smile on his face, clearly loving torturing you.
“I want you to touch me.” You said and he made an unapproving sound.
“Aren’t you supposed to beg for your king to please you?” His emerald eyes were now piercing your skin.
“Please, your Highness, I’m begging you, I need release, I’m begging you to please me.” The words escaped your lips with difficulty from how your mind was fogged with desire.
“Such a good girl, a good whore for her Lord.” It was easy to spot the double meaning of his sentence, he seemed to be like his brother said “not a man of faith” and you liked it.
“I’ll always be a good whore for my Lord.” You said, looking at him through your lashes and felt his fingers finally move, touching perfectly your bundle of pleasure, toying it, caressing it exactly like you needed.
“Let me taste you” he told you in his desperate tone and when you nodded he licked your folds, tasting you like he always wanted to. He was hungry, hungry for you as he passionately kissed your cunt, acting like your moan was some sort of drug keeping him going.
“I need more, please”.
He playfully humed. “What more do you need?”
“I need you to fill me up” Hal chuckled before entering one of his slender fingers in you.
“More, more, please” you begged him, wetness pooling between your thighs as his mischievous smile was on your clit. A second finger found your pussy before he began pumping in and out perfectly. His mouth was always sending shivers down your spine as he licked you so greatly.
With his other hand he was palming himself,needing desperately the relief, you were making him crazy and his dick was too hard, he needed to fuck his own hand, moaning and groaning against your cunt.
“My Lord…” you moaned as you felt your high wash over you. At this moment you saw the way his hips were moving even more desperately as he came with you, moaning the name of the woman that seemed to have bewitched him.
“God I’m in love with you” he said after laying next to you, caressing softly your cheeks as you tried to come down from you high. “Let me marry you.”
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a/n: like, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! :)
I’m taking requests! Check the rules first
I created this blog to allow black girls to feel more comfortable with reading x reader, as a black person I saw how much we weren’t really represented in the fanfic community
Tag list: @timotheel0ver @track0526 @s-we-e-t-t-ea t-ea @thebetawolfgirl
*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅**⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀
This is my work, please don’t repost it, translate it or take it without my permission.
Published the 01/12/2022
#black reader#timothee chalamet x black reader#timothee chalamet x you#timothee imagine#timothée chalamet x reader#timothee fanfic#the king#prince hal#prince hal x reader#henry x reader
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A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter 21 (Loki x Fem Reader Crossover Series, Court of Thorns and Roses AU)
Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book, A Court of Mist and Fury and onwards. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.
Chapter Summary: You are reunited with your husband. And a new key to defeating Grendel is revealed. Prompting the beginning of several journeys across time in Midgard. Starting in Buffalo, NY, 1901.
Word Count: 6K (make some tea)
Series Masterlist
Warnings: 18+ SMUT! SMUT at the beginning!(Masturbation, penis in vagina sex). Curse Words. Bullying. Mentions of violence. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped my radar. A plot hole that I will figure out how to fill later. Proceed with caution, but I take full responsibility for how I portray dark subject matter and if it is not done tastefully or well. If I miss anything that could be triggering, it is your responsibility to tell me as soon as possible so I can tag it here. Otherwise, enjoy!
DICK-tionary: Smut starts at "Loki....Loki, please, I need you," and ends at “Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded."
Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
Loki carried you to his bed.
No, it wasn’t just his bed anymore, you reminded yourself. It was your bed.
Laying you down on top of it, not caring for the stains of dirt and blood on your nightgown, he hovered gently over you. He pressed his lips to yours. His body pressing on top of you. You cupped his face and kept him close. Already your hips touching. You pulled in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him.
No more fire. No more blood. You needed tenderness. Intimacy. Wanting to forget your name, forget everything except him. To not feel the hilt of a blade. Instead, you felt his hand bunching up your skirt, exploring your leg again as if it was the first time he saw your care skin.
Reaching out your hand onto his, you led it up your body. Your skirt was left as you led him to touch you. You stopped the path on one of your breasts. You could hear the breath in him tighten as he felt it, bunching it up to see how the bodice of your gown was lowering. Wanting to show him more.
“Loki…please…please, I need you…” you begged.
He paused and released his hand.
“Shhh,” he hushed you.
One of his long fingers traced your cheek, going down from your neck to the collar of your nightgown. A tiny gasp came out of you as he dragged it down.
“No need to remind me, my dear. The way you react when I touch you- I know you need me…”
. You shivered as that one long finger went between your breastbone. His eyes greedily searching for your nipples, perked beneath the whiteness.
“My poor little wife, all alone out there without me…”
He lowered his finger’s trail to your stomach. He then went to beneath your skirt, feeling your leg again.
“How badly did she miss me, I wonder?”
Going up, just barely before your entrance. You felt your hips buck to him. A smile of deviousness graced your husband’s lips. You were getting wet between your legs, you felt your breath hitch and part of you tremble. Then he removed it.
“What a pitiful little gown you have on. Now that you’ll be in here every night, I’ll have you wearing ones of silk that cover even less. And only for me. Yet this…”
He undid the bodice of your nightgown and pulled it down over your shoulders, revealing your breasts.
“You may as well be naked in this! I may as well…”
He tugged it down and you helped him. Flicking it off to the floor. With a simple flick, your nightgown vanished and you were naked.
“Well, well- what do we have here?” he teased.
This time his hand caught your bare breast and squeezed it, a thumb over the nipple. You let out a moan.
“Tell me, my pet- did you miss me?” he asked.
“Yes,” you breathed out.
“Did you get wet at the thought of me? Of our little trysts?”
“I…I did…”
He went to your ear, barely kissing it as he whispered.
“Did you touch yourself then?” he whispered.
“Yes…”
He went to your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.
“I would do it…alone…in my room…it would be night…I’d be lonely, I couldn’t sleep…and I would think of you….I’d think of the cabin. When you deflowered me. Then when you took me on the table. Or our wedding night..and I…I…I needed you and…and I remembered where you would touch me, so I…”
He took your wrist gently and moved it to your sex.
“Show me how…how would you touch yourself at night, alone in your bed…” he whispered.
With a breath, you slid one finger in, rubbing it against your swollen clit. You began to strum it at a steady rhythm, your hips moving to it. A moan escaped you. He watched greedily, smiling wide.
Your breath hitched. You felt something rise. You made the strumming faster, opening your legs wider.
“L-Loki- I’d-I’d think of you…think of you and…”
He grabbed your wrist and pinned it above you.
“Wait- wait,” he ordered.
The lungs in your air nearly halted. You were frustrated- so close to release. And here he was, as clothed as you were naked.
“There’s a certain sight you’ve been missing, my dear…and your poor little fingers could never quite recreate what we have here…let me fix both…”
With a tilt of his head, his clothes vanished as well. You took in his strong abdominals, the little dark hairs on his chest, his wide pectorals for his slim frame. His cock- large and so hard it touched his stomach.
Loki leaned closer. He pinned you down onto the bed. You felt his erection near you, grazing your skin, your body. He grabbed your legs and hoisted them up.
“I want you loud…your parents will know who gives their good little girl pleasure every night…I want you loud…I want every person in this castle to hear, and when you cum it’s my name you’ll be crying out- they’ll know who you married to…and no man in that muddy town and no man in that castle can lay hands on what is mine, hm? Because none can make her cum like I can…”
He stopped your hand, raising it back up. He teased your entrance and you felt yourself shiver.
“Loki…Loki please…just…just take me, fuck me- fuck me into this bed…”
He lowered himself. You eagerly pulled yourself and kissed his neck. That was where he was weak. He let out a groan as you did. Your hips met his. Your entrance grazed him.
“Please….just love me…fuck me…” you begged in whispers between kisses.
He hovered right where he would be inside you.
“Wait…” he rasped. You were shaking, desperate for him.
“Tell me you’re mine…and I’ll give you what you want…”
Part of you froze beneath him.
“Say it!” he ordered sharply.
“I-I-I’m yours!” you whispered.
He smiled.
“Good….good little wife…”
With one thrust he was inside you. Deep, a right angle, hitting past your clit. You moaned out.
“Yes-yes like that- Norns-I’ve missed this-I’ve missed you-Filling you-Feeling you around me, trying to have all of me- and doing it-” he groaned out.
He held up your legs and then slammed his hips in. You let out a cry. His pace increased.
“You-you wanted-wanted to be fucked?! Here-” he said.
With a gasp, he got fast. He was harsher than when he took your maidenhead in the cabin on a winter’s night. He began to pound into you. Your breasts bouncing.
“Oh! Oh god-god-fuck-fuck yes-” You cried out.
“Yes, I’m your god- and-and you want to cum, don’t you?” he panted as he pounded into you. “God, you beneath, begging for me-I’m-I’m not gonig to last either-I-”
One hand lowered to your clit, edging you on. The spinning rose. The bed was already hitting the wall.
“Yes-I’m yours- Loki-Loki I’m-I’m going to-to-”
The pleasure burst. A moany, desperate “F-fuck!” flew out of you.
A sound came from Loki as he too reached his climax and groaned in gradual spurts. As if it grew out of him. His hot seed shooting inside you.
He was panting, his mouth open. His blue eyes opened to look down at you and a smile was on him, despite himself.
“Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded.
Loki released how he held himself and gently lowered on top of you. Not for lust, but for tenderness. He held onto you and nuzzled into your skin. Hugging him back, you rubbed your fingers in circles against his back. The silence was filled with your souls returning to your body.
Catching your breath, you released a little of the embrace to look into his eyes.
“I love you,” you whispered.
He smiled. No ironic smirk, but a genuine, sweet smile. He leaned into your touch.
“I love you so much I cannot even say a thing right now…” he replied.
“Then don’t,” you said.
Moving your arms back around his body, you pulled him close. Embracing each other in silence, feeling each other’s pulse, and the movement of breath in the other. And not saying one word but basking in the warmth of each other. If there was a Heaven or Valhalla, you knew you had tasted it now.
Minutes passed blissfully. Until you felt your stomach’s emptiness like a knife inside of you. Then you whispered a request into his ear. Loki nodded and conjured soft robes of silk for both of you.
He opened the door, gesturing for a servant in the hallway to approach him.
“Please bring my wife something to eat,” he asked.
The servant nodded and left. Soon they returned with a meal on a golden platter..
As Loki accepted it, you heard the Servant begin to speak boldly.
“Your parents say there is a crucial meeting in an hour. It’s concerning Grendel. They hope you and the Princess shall be present. It is in the usual room,” he reported.
“Very well. Tell them we shall be ready, then,” he said.
The Servant nodded. Then Loki closed the door and walked over to the bed as you sat on it. He set the platter on top of the covers. With the roasting chicken smelling fresh, as well as noticing butter on the vegetables and bread, you found yourself salivating.
As you tucked in, you didn’t want to think of how now realms were in danger. How Odin knew Loki’s secret and how he would only have shared glory as a hero. That you had to recover to have your powers returned.
You wanted to enjoy what pleasures you had in your life while you still had them before they could be taken away from you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The servants delivered a change of clothes. You put on a golden dress. Its silky material is soft as skin, making you run your hands on it to feel how it slides cleanly. Loki donned his traditional dark green and black leather. Looking in the mirror, you hardly recognized a face without petticoats.
“Do I look like an Asgardian?” you asked.
“You’re missing an eye patch like Father,” he teased.
An exhale of laughter shot from you and you smiled at him.
“Don’t fret- you are royalty now. They should be concerned about looking like you instead,” he assured you.
Loki offered his elbow and you placed an arm around his as you left the room to head to the meeting. Your footsteps echoed down columned hallways.
When you arrived, your husband knocked. Voices hushed from inside and a servant opened.
How different that little meeting looked with so many more faces inside.
There was the usual circle of the variants. Thomas talked to Jonathan as they looked over a book between them. Hal and Robert already seated. But now The royal family was added- Odin, Frigga, and Thor. Even Stella sat on a table with her sewing on her lap as Sif stood behind her, one hand on the hilt of the sheathed sword on her hip.
Odin cleared his throat.
“Now, then- let us commence,” The AllFather intoned.
He gestured and everyone standing sat into a chair. They creaked against the floor as people moved theirs. For a second, eyes looked uneasily on him. Beneath the table, your hand reached for Loki’s and he held it.
“It is no longer wise for your little club to face Grendel alone. Especially if he is a threat to our people and our realm, you will need our army, our warriors,” Odin began.
You hated that you agreed with every word he said.
“But the true reason I have called this is because it appears that one of you has made a crucial discovery…” Odin continued. A glimmer in his eye.
He swept an arm to Thomas, then curled his fingers to signal him to stand.
The Baronet smiled. He brought the book out from his lap and placed it on the table.
“My good friends, I have been doing a great deal of research for some time. I wish to assure you, that although my skills in a battle are not quite as refined as others, I wish to be useful in other matters.”
Thomas opened the book and turned the yellowed pages as he continued to speak.
“It took hours of sourcing every book in the archives for information on Grendel. His history, especially any possible weaknesses. Most of them needed to be translated from the ancient tongue word by word. But just this morning, I discovered this.”
He pointed at one specific page.
Everyone craned their neck to look. There was ancient Asgardian text in faded black ink, the lines curving and leaning to the left. You noticed small, detailed illustrations around it of a sword, a crown, a ring, and a mask.
Thomas looked at Jonathan. The Night Manager pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to Thomas, who read the translation aloud.
“Lo, to great praise of the gods,
Did Wise Grendel, go forth,
Long days did he spend,
WENT he forth across many,
Until the cauldron was found.
His death he shreds into it,
And forth did it birth its trove four.
The black ring, a bloodied sword,
An unkinged crown, and a mask of death.
For dreaded death did he ween away,
And death shadow dark did he peel off,
Placing them forth and upon,
Like weeds upon a ship,
The troves, which he then scatter.
Woe for the man,
Who in hell and hatred keeps his soul?
For the trove for that great foe.
THUS was Grendel reared immortal,
Reborn, that is, made freshly new.”
Silence followed. Then Thomas continued.
“In layman’s terms, there are four items called Troves that emerged out of the cauldron when Grendel was granted his immortality from it. A ring, a sword, a mask, and a crown. I confess I had to visit Jotunheim for our Prophet friend again and make him an offering. And it is rather convenient he is fond of a good roast chicken!”
The Prophet- how had it been so long since you had seen him? Since he told you Loki was your True Love? You glanced at your husband and smiled at him and he back. Then you turned to Thomas again.
“He confirmed what I suspected. He said the troves were scattered throughout time and in two countries in Midgard, mostly England. Oddest of all…They are located in our timelines.”
Thomas gestured to himself and then to each variant.
America in mine, A small village in Jonathans, Eastcheap in Hal’s, and, Robert….well, you can guess where the one in yours had been placed.”
Robert turned pale.
Loki placed an elbow on the table and cocked an eyebrow.
“How incredibly thoughtful of him to make it easy on us! It’s so coincidental, we may as well have our names written in that book!”
Jonathan folded his arms.
“If he had access to a prophet of his own, it could be another trap for us,” he said.
“But what options do we have?” Robert asked.
“If it’s a trap, I’ll take Grendel and slaughter him myself!” Thor boasted, pumping his fist in the air.
“It’s easier said than done,” Frigga advised him, placing a hand on his arm to get him to stop.
“So, we must go to each of these places in those times. We must retrieve and destroy these items. And then, we have a key to defeating Grendel,” you recalled.
Thomas nodded his head.
“Is there a city where the ring was found in? You didn’t list one,” Jonathan asked.
“Oh, forgive me, I’m not familiar with the city the ring is in,” Thomas explained.
“What is its name?” Frigga asked.
“It’s a city called Buffalo in the year of 1901. The Prophet said it could be found among the upper class of the city. So I believe that is where we must go- and we all must behave. We all know royalty is one thing, high society is another.” Thomas advised.
Frigga nodded her head.
“If it is the least familiar, then finding the troves in the others shall be easier. You must go there first. And we must find a way to alert the army should there be trouble,” she advised.
“Why, good fellows, let us use that little bracelet! Should it not work when the army of our King can be brought forth? Especially through the gifts of our gracious queen?” Hal asked.
Frigga smiled.
“Yes, if those watches can send the signal, I can summon a portal for the army to go through. We can’t just send all of them over there. Grendel would get suspicious,” she added.
Stella leaned forward, her needlework placed on her lap. She then spoke for the first time since the meeting began.
“I think I’d like to go,” she replied shyly.
“It could be dangerous,” Sif warned.
“Ah, but American Society is dangerous in itself. And not all of you know how to behave among them. Miss Harris, I agree- you would be a natural among them,” Thomas said.
Stella gave Thomas a small smile. Jonathan turned stiff seeing the exchange, a quiet ferocity in his eyes toward the Baronet.
“Stella knows her way around people. How to talk to them and befriend them. She couldn’t be impolite if you begged her to be. And Aldwinter loved her for that,” you recalled.
“I could help in some ways. Search for it, talk to others to distract them, have them trust us,” Stella suggested.
All of you looked at each other. Thor was drumming his fingernails on the table.’’
“But if there should be a battle!” the god cried.
“Not all battles are with swords, brother,” Loki replied.
“Of course that would help. Sif can guard her. We could use Stella. Any bit of help we can get.” Robert advised. His hands reached to his shirt pocket for a cigarette and finding none, rested on the table.
“And…I would like another thing, please…” Stella continued.
The eyes were on her. Your friend then relaxed, though eyes were on her. Her voice was brighter with her growing confidence.
“I….I’m tired of always being taken, being hurt. I don’t want it to happen anymore. Could I…could I learn to fight just a little, please? Just enough to protect myself. I don’t wish for any glory on the battlefield, I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just…I want to feel safe. Please,” she requested.
Loki smiled.
“Well then, you are quite welcome,” Loki began.
Sif turned to her.
“I’ll show you. I know how a woman can fight off a man. You’ll have lessons before you go- where to strike where it hurts. And you better pay attention,” she offered.
“She is worth every sore muscle!” you assured your friend.
Stella’s pink lips curved into a smile.
“Thank you, all of you,” she said.
Odin crossed his arms.
“Well, one sorceress in Asgard and another-” his eye went to you. “Sent off to Midgard. With the Princess’s gifts and your proper training, I have a little hope in me.”
You raised your hand to speak.
“Your highness-AllFather-I, I was tricked into eating Kunniger. The poison drained me of my gifts. I’ll need the tea from the Brunhilde flowers in Jotunheim. And enough to drink for at least two days,” you insisted.
Thor perked up.
“Oh! Brunhilde flowers then? Why, sister, then we must fetch them for you! And you shall be back to your magical glory in no time! Why, I should get them myself!” he replied eagerly, beating his fist on the table. It seemed that the table and everyone jumped in response.
Odin nodded his head.
“Then, it is settled. We will have two days- during which I expect everyone who is able to train vigorously. Then, you set forth in Midgard starting with the kingdom known as Buffalo. You all know what you must do- find the troves. Destroy them. Consider this a command from your king.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
While unleashing Thor among the upper crust of New York was like unleashing a bull into a china shop, he was useful in other ways.
Thor ran to Jotunheim like a dog released in a field. He grabbed as many Brunhilde flowers as he could and ran back, the tiny purple blooms bunched in his large fist. He brought you forth his prize at your feet.
For two days, you drank the tea as you watched Sif train Stella. And how odd that this time you were the one watching and Stella was the one training! And Stella in a light brown exercise dress of your time.Different than her typical blue. dodging Sif’s punches was a sight to see.
Sif led Stella to one dummy and handed her a dagger. She pointed at its neck.
“Strike there and he’ll be weakened.”
She moved her finger to the heart.
“Strike there and he’ll be dead.”
Stella gripped the handle of the dagger with both hands.”
“I don’t want to kill anyone,” she responded.
“Lady Harris, there are men worth killing. Men who will kill you first. Men who’ll do worse if alive- stab it!” she ordered.
Stella hurried forth and shakily plunged the dagger through the neck. Like pricking a needle into a sewing cushion.
“No! With force, girl!” Sif barked.
On the second afternoon, you could summon bits of flame. By that evening, you could hear the gossip of the kitchen maids (which Loki adored hearing you recount for entertainment). On the third day, you could move the items on your vanity around easily. You went to the training grounds and fetched a sword a mile away without moving a muscle. Targets of your own were set aflame easily.
Now it was time, and you could no longer delay. One minute wasted was one more advance Grendel would make behind your backs.
Everyone gathered in the meeting hall. Loki conjured clothes for everyone, for the ring was in Buffalo in the year 1901. The men had their waistcoats and cravats. Loki in his typical look. A black waistcoat with a green tie, with a black overcoat, a golden watch with its chain around his stomach, and a bowler hat. Thomas donned himself in black. He brought his top hat and placed it on his head. The men all had waistcoats in colors they favored. grey for Robert, a dark blue for Jonathan, and red for Hal.
The ladies had to have small gloves and dresses as well. Stella’s was sky blue and Sif was in black (though she complained the skirts were tight beneath her breath). Your dress was deep green along with your husband’s waistcoat.
But what amazed you were the puffed sleeves on the dresses. So within two decades, every lady would have them?! How astounding! You kept eyeing them on your shoulders with curiosity- you may as well attach hydrangea bushes to your person!
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, are we all ready? Not quaking in our little boots?” Loki asked.
There was no time to reply. Not that there was time for hesitation.
Loki conjured a golden portal and everyone stepped through. Bright colors swirled around you, hurting your eyes so much you had to close them.
Then, as you opened, you saw you were in Buffalo.
You were amidst the markets of the area, as carts moved about. You craned your neck to see tall white buildings. But the day was sunny with the crisp coolness of morning in the air. You could hear a distant train whistle and the chatter of people, happy for a new day and a fresh start. The city was twenty times larger than your village. The crowds were so thick, that you reached for your husband’s hand to not get lost. He held your own back. And indeed, everyone was dressed similarly to your group, right down to women with puffy sleeves.
All of you walked forward. Sticking close together as people hurried about. You stopped around one building, your feet staying on dry dirt roads far from any possible mud.
“Well, now, I have one little question. The one plaguing all of our minds right now. I may as well be the one to say it- how are we going to find one measly little ring in all of this?” asked Loki, gesturing his arms out to the city.
Jonathan put a hand out to him.
“Be patient,” he assured. “We’ll find a way.”
You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.
“Are all of you forgetting that I can sense things?” you replied. “Let me do a quick scan,” you offered.
The group held their breath. You closed your eyes and had your gifts reach out.
At first, it was overwhelming. Every smell, sound, and sight attacked you at once. Your shoulders tensed and you winced, but you had that word in your head like a mantra.
“Ring, ring- the cauldron’s ring…where is the cauldron’s ring?”
Taking a deep breath, you let each sensation pass you by. You let the words be your anchor.
Something nudged at you. As soft as a child asking for a glass of water at night.
The ring…there was someone…someone connected to the ring…it was…was…in a building, a few blocks away.
You opened your eyes, a smile growing on your face.
“Someone has it. They’re in an office building a few streets down,” you reported.
Loki took your hand, leaning to you with a look of triumph.
“My wife, a sorceress and ingenious,” he praised.
All of you hurried forth. You held your skirts over possible mud puddles, glad they’d cover your shoes. Your senses still out like a compass. Finally, a tall, bland-looking building loomed over your party and your senses quivered intensely within you.
“There! It’s there!” you confirmed with a point of your gloved hand.
Hurrying Inside, all of you paused. There were numerous rooms and a grand, wooden staircase. People walked to and fro in and out of doors. Ladies adjusted their hats in mirrors and you could smell cigar smoke.
“I can tell there is a hint here. There’s someone… but it’s…it’s hard to say….” you recalled. You were fresh from the poison, and maybe your senses were slightly dulled. You tried to reach out and could sense a presence, but you couldn’t tell what.
“Then rest your gifts, my dear,” Loki advised.
With a deep exhale, you released it, coming back to your neutral self.
“It will do. We have to start somewhere- we can search the building. Ask people, if desperate. Check for a ring.” Jonathan agreed.
Everyone had a scrap of paper in their pockets. An Asgardian artists made sketches from the illustration of this ring. A silver band with a black jewel in the center. You noticed Robert get it out to see it one more time before folding it back in.
“May as well start somewhere, sally forth, my friends,” Hal began, nodding his head.
“I’ll be back to you in an hour,” Loki said. He took your hand and kissed it as a promise.
The men began to scatter like children playing hide and seek. You saw Robert crudely looking at everyone’s hands and comparing the paper. They went across and vanished into doors all over the ground floor of the building.
You, Stella, and Sif looked at each other.
“Well, there they go,” Sif quipped.
“But who are we to sit about as they do the work? We can check the next floor up,” you asked.
The three of you lifted your skirts and walked upstairs.
As you climbed the steps, voices were chatting on the second floor. Emerging onto it, you all saw the source right in your path.
There was a small group of women with high chins and flowers in their hats. Society ladies. Their smiles were small and their eyes cold as they looked at one woman standing in front of them. As if not included. Not enough. Not one enough.
Their victim in question had blonde hair and a little tan coat and dress and hat. You noticed she had a manuscript in her hand that she hugged with both arms close to her chest like a shield.
One woman in front, who appeared to be the oldest among them, tilted her head and spoke with syrupy venom.
“Oh, we’re having a ball soon, by the way. Not that it should concern you, Edith. With those ink-stained hands, I doubt any gentleman would wish to dance with you. But isn’t that what you wanted, our own Jane Austen?” she said with a smile.
The ladies next to her snickered among themselves.
The young woman- Edith- turned pale and you found her posture tight.
Perhaps it was your unbridled emotions. Perhaps it was the confidence you gained from being turned from lady to warrior and princess and surviving Grendel. Perhaps it was the rage leftover from that marshy town where you made fire burst.
But you could not let them torment this lady- who seemed so small, so timid, so alone.
She wouldn’t be alone now.
Your feet approached them, crashing into their circle.
“And what makes you think you have the right to speak to her like that?” you asked.
Stella hurried forth and went to Edith.
“Why, is it true? Are you a writer?” she asked.
Edith blinked in surprise.
“Why, uh, yes, I am,” she replied meekly.
Stella made sure she was close. Diverting her attention, not causing any harm. The defense to your offense.
“Oh, how exciting! I must wonder at that- how hard you must work for your craft! How fascinating! I am Miss Stella Harris-forgive the intrusion- and you are-”
“Edith Cushing,” she confirmed.
You took a step closer to them.
“What are their names?” you asked Edith.
“Mrs. McMichael, her daughter Eunice, and their friends,” Edith introduced.
You looked down into the oldest woman’s eyes and she rose to yours without a hint of fear.
“Mrs. McMichael, I do not know what Miss Cushing has done to you- to any of you to deserve this. She is harming no one. She has an ambition and is set forth on it- that is a noble thing. And it is none of your business if she becomes a spinster! Haven’t you considered how hurt she must be when you say things to her?” you spat back.
Mrs. McMichael cocked her eyebrow.
“I must be blunt. Edith is unnatural, as one might say. She must know her place. She always has been. With a mind like hers, of course, no one will want her. We knew it from the beginning. We are simply educating her. She must know her place- how else can a pig know she is a pig?”
You had had enough.
“And going about bullying other people to make your own miserable life feel any better is a place you’re satisfied to be in?” you asked.
You got close, holding yourself restrained. Your hands itching to slap her, which you kept folded. But you looked directly into her eyes and spoke before you could be interrupted.
“Then I must be blunt, too- You wish to find a pig, Mrs. McMichael? Look in the mirror,” you replied.
There were gasps among the ladies. Even a “mother!” whispered from Eunice.
Before any of them could interject, you turned to join Stella and Edith and began to walk away. Sif only took a step closer.
“Don’t push it. And stay away from the girl- and us,” She warned gravely.
There were gasps. You turned around, hurrying your steps. Your momentum of triumph and anger pushing your little party of four forward. Edith only looked around with as much astonishment as the abandoned snobs. Three new faces looking at her. A lightness on her features for her surprise defense.
“Where are you going?” Sif asked.
“I am headed to the library- it’s up here. I’m meeting Mr. Ogilvie in an hour,” she pointed.
“Let us escort you,” you offered.
Edith grinned and you noticed how warm it was, how beautiful. With her blonde hair and sweet features, she was a pretty lady. Her shoulders dipped and her eyes glanced down at the manuscript in her hands as if it was her infant. She looked back up, beaming.
“I cannot thank all of you enough! Please- what is your name?”
Matching her grin, you reached out a hand in an introduction.
“I am Mrs. Laufeyson,” you introduced. It was the last name you and Loki agreed to have when traveling in Midgard.
“Miss Edith Cushing, and?” she turned to look at the dark-haired woman in dark clothes.
“Lady Sif-”
“Er, Miss Sif,” you corrected.
“What brings you here?” Edith asked.
“Buisness with my husband. Miss Harris and Miss Sif are my companions. Why do you need to meet this gentleman in the library?” you asked.
As you walked closer, you passed a window where sunlight draped down. Warming all of you for a brief minute. Glancing back, you saw the clique of society ladies titled their heads to watch and then went down the stairs with a huff.
‘He’s going to look at my manuscript and consider publishing it!” Edith boasted.
“Oh, how exciting!” Stella replied.
“! You must have us read it too!” you agreed. Even Sif raised an eyebrow.
Edith guided you all to the door with the library.
“Oh- after the meeting, we’ll enjoy some coffee- my treat! Really! It’s the least I can do- and there’s a cafe next door!” she offered.
Coffee, not tea. Now you knew you truly were in America.
“Splendid- we will wait outside right for you,” Stella promised.
“My husband wishes to meet me in an hour. Do you not mind him?”
“Oh, not at all. I’d like to get in early- there are a few revisions I need to make before he reads it,” Edith said, looking down at the manuscript again.
“There’s no need for shame. Do whatever you need to do!” Stella replied with a smile.
Sif did not smile. Though she was quiet, observant of everything gonig on, but her eyes were soft.
“We’ll wait right here!” you assured.
Edith gave you another smile.
Something in the back of your mind was itching. A bell was ringing loud. You had rested your senses but here they suddenly grabbed you by full force. You stood still, your heart picking up against your ribs as you felt them overwhelm you.
But they didn’t go to the chatter or footsteps or the sunlight shining through.
You felt Edith….her hair feeling pinned to her face, her sweat of excitement beneath her nice dress, her determination to not appear like a frump yet also present of an intellect worthy of respect, equal to a man even…
She didn’t wear gloves. Her fingers were bare, but there was the mark of a tight ring she wore yesterday around her second finger on her right.
She was trying on jewelry that morning. And considered one ring she had. She had put it on. Then decided against it and discarded it away.
A silver ring. A silver ring with a black jewel.
Before you said a word, she slipped through the door and closed it shut. All of you sat on some chairs outside the hall. Your stomach had dropped and you were shaking.
Sif crossed her arms in a huff.
“I don’t see how any of this will get us any closer to the trove!” she complained.
You turned to her, feeling your blood turn cold.
“No, Sif…” you began.
“Why, YN! What’s the matter? There’s a look on your face- something is troubling you, what is it?” Stella asked.
You gestured for them to lean closer, your voice soft.
‘We haven’t actually dallied…we might as well have found the ring…” you replied.
“What do you mean?” asked Sif.
“Edith has it.”
#loki x reader#loki x reader angst#loki x reader fluff#loki x reader series#carrie writes#prince hal#thomas sharpe#stella ransome#sif#queen frigga#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston characters#angst with a happy ending#fanfiction#loki friggason#loki x y/n#loki x you#crossover series#crossover fanfiction#crossover fic#loki fanfic#loki my beloved#loki laufeyson#loki mcu#loki series#loki (marvel)#loki fic#loki fluff#loki god of mischief#loki fanfiction
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Henry Henry is a reworking of the Henriad, the set of Shakespearean history plays dealing with the fates and fortunes of the final Plantagenet King Richard II and the first Lancastrians Henry IV and Henry V. They are plays about family dysfunction and the relationship between the self and authority, between society and the individual, duty and care, responsibility and vice. Bratton fondly describes them as “the daddy issue plays.”
...Bratton also has this great read on Hal as a gay disaster: “It’s funny because Shakespeare’s Prince Hal is, I think, one of the progenitors of the modern Gay Disaster,” he said. “He drinks too much; he plays stupid, mean pranks; he’s torn between his daddy and his disappointed father. But Shakespeare’s Hal is generally seen as a lovable scamp whose redemption is inevitable. I found myself trying to play with the sympathies of my imaginary audience, taking Hal back and forth very rapidly between the roles of victim and perpetrator. It mirrors the way Hal uses the people around him to play with his own sense of self—he has this little dance he does that’s like, ‘Do you hate me now? How about now? How about now? Ahh, but don’t you love me really.’”
#shakespeare#william shakespeare#brandon taylor#new book#books#shakespeare in literature#shakespeare and adaptation#henry iv#henry v#prince hal#hotspur
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#tom hiddleston#hiddlestoners#tom hiddleston characters#twhiddleston#hiddlesarmy#twhiddles#twh#hiddlesverse#prince hal#king henry v#hollow crown#the hollow crown#thomaswilliamhiddleston#thomas hiddleston#thomas william hiddleston#tom hiddleston shakespeare
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Watching the Hollow Crown, and how dare Hal end Henry IV Part II by saying:
"Presume not that I am the thing I was, For God doth know—so shall the world perceive— That I have turned away my former self."
and then begin Henry V in the same busted ass red leather jacket jerkin from his ale house days. What the hell, Hal. Why hast thou still that janky thing?
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