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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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The King & I (Pt. 14)

Sorry it’s taken me a bit to write this! I've gotten a bit busy and distracted with other fictional worlds and characters, but I want to give an ending to this story. I hope you guys like it.

HISTORICAL AU (but not necessarily historically accurate bc this is a fanfic not a research project lol): King Henry V & “Street Urchin” reader.

CHAPTER 14: THE COLOR OF ROYALTY

His wife.

Hal’s wife.

I can’t stop playing the words over in my mind. The sun has just begun to rise over the mountains, pouring through the diamond shaped glass of Hal’s bedroom windows… nearly pooling onto the lids of his eyes. He’ll be awake any moment now, but for now, I revel over his sleeping image.

My Wife.

I can’t help myself when I reach towards him, running my fingers through the amber locks on his head. Hal begins to stir underneath me, his skin glowing in the sunlight as the blankets fall slowly off his shoulders. And then, his eyes peer open, gazing sleepily over at me. I smile softly, tracing his face with my hand.

“Good morning,” he mutters in a gravelly tone. I can’t help but giggle, and the sound makes him smile.

“What are you so amused about?” he asks, his hand snaking over my waist before pulling me towards him. I smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“We’ve lain together many times,” I say. He hums, amusement in his eyes. “And you are God’s chosen heir to the throne,” I point out, tapping his nose.

“Indeed,” he says, resting his cheek against your forehead. “Well, as long as you have a good word with him, please let God know I was seduced by his chosen heir and it’s not my fault I’ve lain with him before marriage.”

Hal laughs sleepily, pressing me close in a hug. “Really, Hal!” I tell him. He hums in response. “If I’m punished for it I will take you down with me,” I tease. No response. I shift to look up into his eyes, “Did you hear me?”

His smile fades as he looks up at me. “What?” I ask. His hand comes to my cheek, brushing my hair back. I move away from him, letting the hair cover the bruise.

“Don’t look at it,” I beg him, grabbing his hand and resting my face against it. “Just look at me.” But his eyes tell me that his playful mood has left. He pulls his covers off, moving to stand. I watch as he pulls a deep blue tunic on, then shrugs on a matching velvet robe, adorned with gold embroidery and a thin collar of white fur.

“I’ll call the maids to prepare you a bath,” he says as he pulls on his pants. My heart sinks. Without another word, he’s quickly making his way out the door. I panic. “Hal, wait, don’t leave so suddenly,” I call to him. He looks back at me with that pensive yet furious look. I stand from the bed, walking over to him.

“Nothing happened,” I begin but he cuts me off. “Nothing?” he asks with disgust. “He violated you- he attacked you,” he begins. “Yes but—“

“But nothing (Y/N), this will not go unpunished,” he states. I recognize that the King is speaking now. I nod, turning my gaze back to the floor. Hal sighs above me, and I feel his fingers underneath my chin.

“It’s not the first time I’ve punished someone who hurt you,” he says. I take his hand.

“No,” I admit.

“Yet you’re still withholding something from me,” he says. I look up at him, shooting him a soft smile. He raises a brow.

“It’s just different… to have someone… care… this way,” I admit softly. A silent understanding lingers between us, and he leans down, placing a kiss on my lips.

“As I said, you are the most precious person in this world to me, and I won’t let anything happen to you from this moment forward,” he promises. I half smile, not wanting to let his beautiful dream like words penetrate my heart too deeply.

“I must go down now, the Witan will be expecting an answer,” he tells me, pressing a kiss to my head.

“An answer to what?” I ask.

“Englands future,” he answers simply. And with that, he is out the door.

—————

HAL’S POV

The voices of the old men around me had become an all too familiar sound. Before, when I’d been desperate to please the witan, I’d listen to each and every one. But now, I didn’t much care for what their opinions were. Instead, I looked up at the stained glass windows, counting the colors I could see pooling through the sunlight that shone through them.

Purple was one. The color of royalty, or so I was told by my mother long ago.

“Do colors really mean different things, mama?” I asked her one day when she’d gifted me a bag of glass marbles.

“Indeed my love. Look here, this light blue resembles peace, and yellow is the symbol of the sun. Red symbolizes power and strength—“

“That’s why Papa wears red clothes all the time, right?” I asked her. She smiled down at me, “Yes,” she said.

“What about purple?” I ask, tugging at one of the long sleeves of her gown.

“Purple is the color of royalty,” she said. “Is that why you’re the Queen?” I asked her, tugging on her purple sleeve. She laughs, pressing me close into a hug. “Well yes, but that’s not the only reason,” she said.

“Then why?” I asked. She reached to the table, taking the red and rose marbles in her hand. “Your father, the red marble, and I, the rose, married. Once I married your father…” she switched the rose marble for the purple, “I became a Queen.”

I reached to the table, grabbing the rose marble, “and what does rose stand for?” I asked her. She looked at it fondly, staying silent for a moment.

“Rose stands for… sweetness.”

I imagined (Y/N) in a purple gown and smiled.

“Your Majesty, is this amusing to you?” Lord Paul jabs, pulling me from my thoughts. I look down at him, nodding.

“You certainly are,” I tell them.

“Well, would you care to tell us what exactly it is about the future of England that amuses you so?”

I look at the group of old men before me. “You,” I say, standing. “All of you. Old men. England isn’t yours anymore, it’s mine.”

“How dare yo—“

“No- how dare you. What future do you have a right to in England? Your day has passed. England is that of the young men who fought beside me in France. Who attained peace after a long and arduous war, started by the England of the past,” I tell them, unafraid. What would they do? What could they do? In truth, my victory had gained me the favor of the people. Of the soldiers whose families would be affected by their losses or victories. For the witan to strip me of the crown would be for the whole of England to fall into turmoil. The next heir to my throne would be the Dauphin, and there was no chance they would take to allow that to happen. So today, I declare to them my intentions. That I will marry (Y/N). That she will be the next Queen of England. And that I shall continue to rule our country, using our new victory as a period of peace in which we may finally strengthen our people, our communities and restore our nations sense of pride.

They are silent as I tell them this, and silent when I finish. Lord Byron bows, and soon is followed by the rest of them. Even Connelly, the stubborn ass, bows. And I know I have secured my countries future, and my own happiness.

With that, I take my leave, making to my chamber, where I will follow through on my promise to (Y/N).

“The prisoner is to be dealt with swiftly. I don’t want to see his face again.” I say as I walk out of the room. Before walking out I turn back to them,“this I decree for the safety of the future Queen.”

———————

The palace grounds were beautiful, and it felt better to be out here by nature than stuffed up inside the stone walls of the castle. I still wasn’t used to the feel of fine fabrics lining my skin. I was dressed in a fine outfit of lavender today, my hair brushed back into a braid. I wouldn’t argue that it felt nice to be attended to. It reminded me of when my mother used to dress me and do my hair. She always picked it up in elaborate chignons. Often times she would use me as her practice doll for the hair styles Madame B would tell the ladies to wear. So when the maids sat me down to begin arranging my hair back, I closed my eyes and pretended their hands were hers, and that I could still smell the citrusy vanilla scent of the perfume she wore.

“(Y/N),” Hal’s voice sounded from behind me. My heart beat quickly as I turned. How would he perceive me in this state? Suddenly I felt very silly and dressed up… like a performer in a traveling caravan. But his gaze fell upon me in a way that made my stomach flutter. I’d seen men look at my mother the same way.

“You look…” his voice fell soft. I could feel the heat rush to my face, and turned away. His footsteps sounded before me and soon his fingers raised my gaze to his.

“The bruise…” he began. “Your maids covered it a bit with powder,” I explained. His finger lightly grazed the place where a soft lavender spot still colored my cheek.

“Did... he?” I ask nervously. His stoic expression answers the question with a chill running down my spine.

“I wasn’t worth it...” I mumble, feeling utter worthlessness drip down my spine.

Hal’s hands come to either side of my shoulders, pulling me to stand straight. There is anger in his eyes and I feel my stomach drop.

“You’re right. You’re not worth that. You’re worth far more than one putrid man’s life,” he says. I stare up at him, feeling my eyes widen with shock and fear at the intensity of his words.

“That’s why I came back. Do you understand that? The thing that got me through that war... do you know how precious your existence is to me? How precious it is to England? I could only do what I did... I could only do it because I had something to fight for. And that was you. Don’t you know that? Didn’t I promise you when I got back... I... you’re the only reason I want to be King. Hell... I hated my father my entire life, and I nearly love the bastard now for allowing me to be someone who can protect you,” he says, his voice loud and trembling. “No, (Y/N). I can’t simply let someone get away with trying to hurt the very reason I can even stand here as a King.”

His eyes are watering and I feel my heart drop. I press him into a tight hug, burying my face into his chest.

“Hal... Hal... I hear you, I am right here. I am right here and I always will be.”

Before I know it, I suck in a sharp breath, feeling tears well at the corners of my eyes. Hal presses me against him firmly, and I begin to cry. It’s the kind of cry that feels bigger than me. It’s the kind of cry that I’ve been holding back for a long time… maybe even since my mother passed.

Hal’s arms are tight around me, but my grip on him is tighter. If I could press myself inside him, I would. Everything starts to feel so real then. Standing here, the sun on my shoulders, Hal’s arms around me… loosing Carter, loosing John… loosing Scarlett… loosing my mother. Falling in love with Hal… the dinners at our home, the moment by the lake on the tree… waking up with him this morning. It’s all spinning through my mind at the same time.

I sob, holding onto Hal as though he were the only thing anchoring me onto the earth. I feel him press kisses on the top of my head, and I look up at him. His fingers wipe away the wetness at my cheeks.

“I’m a mess,” I say. Hal’s hands press on either side of my face as he kisses my forehead.

“You’re not a mess, (Y/N). You never were. This country is a mess,” he says. I look up at him, amazed at the boldness of his statement.

“Don’t look so surprised, I haven’t exactly been defending my father’s work have I?” he asks with a smile. I wipe my eyes again.

“Lord, I shouldn’t even be the one crying! You’ve lost your men in battle,” I scold myself. Hal shakes his head, “Don’t for even one moment think what you’ve gone through is any easier,” he says.

Instead of saying anything more, Hal moves me towards the flower beds in the beauty of the gardens. We walk in comfortable silence, a welcome distraction. The bees hum around us and I can’t stop staring at the beautiful multitude of colors in the petals around me. I’d never seen such a quantity of flowers before. I was grateful for this moment, and when I looked up at Hal, seeing he was already looking at me, I knew he felt the same way.

“I wish we could have moments like this always,” I look up at him. His crystal blue eyes glimmer at my words.

——————

HAL’S POV

My heart raced as she stared up at me. This was the moment I’d waited for… the moment I’d thought about when we’d left for war and the only one on my mind on the way back. It was all her.

“(Y/N),” I begin. She smiles softly and I swear the air is swept out of my lungs. I sigh, feeling the nervousness tense in my chest. I turn to the garden, noticing the verbena and iris’ surrounding us. My mother’s purple marble rolls around in my memory. “Hal?” her voice calls me back. I turn to her, smiling. My finger runs along the lavender fabric of her sleeve, trailing along the delicate bow tied just above her wrist.

“I’m sorry… for a moment I felt surrounded by beauty,” I admit. Her hands cross in front of her, fingers entwined tightly. I reach for her hands, softening her tightly wound fingers with my own. On her finger is the silver ring I gave her. I twist it and slowly pull it off.

“Hal?” she asks, but I fear my voice may fail me if I speak. Instead, I reach inside my pocket, pulling the small leather square out and onto my hand. I unfold the small wrap. In the middle lies my mothers ring. Two amethyst’s set alongside a diamond on a silver band. I hear her gasp, and her hands fly over her mouth.

“(Y/N), would you do me the honor of walking by my side for the rest of our lives?” I ask her. Her face is full with shock and soon tears begin to well at the corners of her eyes.

———————————

(Y/N)’S POV

My heart is beating a million times a second and I think I feel faint. The ring is impossibly beautiful… to beautiful for me. “Hal… I… are you sure…?”

He don’t respond. Instead, he kneels down in front of me, taking my hand in his. He picks up the delicate ring, placing it on my left finger, where his silver one used to sit. He bends towards it, placing a kiss above the ring and my finger at once.

“(Y/N), there is nothing more in the world that I have ever been more sure about than wanting to love you and protect you and cherish every moment on earth alongside you,” he says.

I can feel tears pouring down my face, but my breath is somehow calm. I take hold of his hand and kneel down in front of him. “Hal I… I love you,” I say. And I mean it. I mean it more than anything I’ve ever meant before. And for some reason in saying it, feels like I can see everything for the first time. His blue eyes are even brighter than before, and I can feel every callous, every twitch of his fingers under mine. “I want to be beside you always,” I tell him.

And then he kisses me. And I swear I can taste the stars on his lips.

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston #king henry v #prince hal #the hollow crown

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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Has anyone ever written a book? What am I doing. I am writing a book but like… what? I’m like… who are these people I’ve never met before. How am I, a fangirl, supposed to come up with original characters? Lol. Anyway. I am trying not to judge myself writing and just let it happen but like… this feels so forbidden. Like there’s no prompt to go off of- no established characters to work off of. It feels so naked!? Is that normal?😭 name something that feels illegal but isn’t

#writing #fiction

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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Zero Kiryuu Tutoring his Girlfriend would go something like...

It was no secret Zero was a genius. While most people boasted about his grades being top of the class, he didn’t let on that it meant anything special to him. On the other hand, your grades were… well…

You’d been working on the same algebra problems for so long now you were really ready to start crying. “How Kiryu could date the worst student in our class, I’ll never know,” the class President had commented snarkily one day. His words were really ringing in your mind now.

Although it never mattered to Zero what type of student either of you were, it honestly got to you sometimes. He’d always come looking for you so soon after class, having finished his work what seemed effortlessly. You’d end up having to finish your work at night while he was off patrolling the grounds as the disciplinary committee. Or when girls would quietly fawn over how smart he was and make little side eyes at you, which just made you feel even more inferior.

And now you had to make sure you passed this algebra exam or else you’d be responsible for everyone’s misery at the winter ball. The Class President made sure you knew that. He would wait outside the classroom as you walked out with your best friend just to remind you to study. Which was really annoying and unnecessary…

Anyway, now you were left sitting in the headmasters dining room with tears brimming your eyes as you erased for the hundredth time the same algebra equation that you could just not seem to get right.

“(Y/N)?” you heard Zero’s voice from the doorway. You quickly wiped your eyes, but it wasn’t fast enough to hide your clear frustration from him.

“Oh, Zero! I didn’t see you there, how were the stables today?” you asked, putting on a smile for him. Though in truth, it wasn’t hard to smile when you saw your Zero. He walked silently over to the table, pulling a chair out to join you. The wood scratched the floor as he brought his seat closer to you, his hands soon coming to caress the side of your face.

“What happened?” He asked, ignoring your question, his eyes studying you carefully.

You shake your head, “Nothing big or important, that’s why we should talk about your day,” you smile. But Zero knows you too well, and you know him too well. Lying has never worked on him before.

“It’s just stupid algebra,” you say, looking at your sad, eraser stained notes. “There’s just a question giving me problems,” you tell to him. Yeah, all the problems. His hand runs through your hair before he leans in to look at your sheet. But you quickly move to cover it with your arms, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t look at it, it’s all wrong anyway,” you say. But he gently grabs your wrists, moving your arms off the page. He studies it for a while as you watch him nervously. The silence kills you.

“I’m not as smart as you, okay? So don’t make fun of me. I know I’m dumb,” you tell him, crossing your arms in frustration. He looks back at you with a depth to his gaze that raises goosebumps on your skin. “S..stop looking at me like that...,” you say nervously, turning your gaze away. After a moment he puts the page down and reaches out to you, his long fingers taking your hand delicately.

“You’re not dumb, (Y/N). And I wouldn’t make fun of you either,” he says sincerely. You feel your face blush.

“The Class President is right, you’re too smart to be with someone like me,” you say, pulling your hand away, but he takes it back.

“First of all, the Class President is a sad, lonely idiot. But I would be an even bigger idiot to ever want to be with anyone else than you,” he says. Your heart flutters at his words and you look back at him with wide eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, his hand cupping your face again. You blush at his gaze, but press your hand against his to your cheek. After a moment he pulls away to stand, slinging his coat over his shoulder. You look up at him expectantly.

“Let’s go get ramen, we’ll work on studying later,” he says.

Your face instantly brightens and you shoot up, running to grab your coat. You jump into your shoes and run to Zero’s side, grabbing his hand.

He wouldn’t say it, but knowing these little things that made you brighten up this way was the best knowledge he could ever hope to have. You were his favorite subject to study, and he would do so for however long you’d allow him to. And, he thought to himself, even long after... even if you’d decide to leave him. You were Zero’s heart, and nothing- especially the opinion of anyone other than yours- would ever change that.

#zero kiryuu #vampire knight #zero kiryuu imagine

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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“The King & I” Notice!

“The King & I” readers, I’m gonna skip posting this week. What I wrote felt rushed and not how I want it to be. I’m trying to decide which way to go! So I’ll be posting it next week.

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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Lovers in the Dark (Adam One-Shot)

Hellooo! So I don’t know how this turned out but I want to start writing some more Adam “Only Lovers Left Alive” fics and am using this one to test the waters. Let me know what you think!

Synopsis: You’ve been dating Adam for a good while now, and while everything has been great, your internal clock has not made life easy for you. You’ve been worrying he might find out that your attempts to live on vampire hours are exhausting you.

CW: Umm... fluff?

It was harder and harder every day to keep up with the impossible routine that had become your new norm since dating Adam. It wasn’t easy to live on vampire hours as a human. But you didn’t want Adam to think you couldn’t handle it.

Tonight though, your sleep deprivation was catching up to you. Adam had been working on some new music and you absolutely loved watching him create it. He was also happy to have someone whose opinion he could trust. It was one of the things he loved about you… your honesty. Heh.

He had been going at an arrangement of chords for a few hours now, so you’d busied yourself looking through his endless record collection, reading... when you then had the idea to surprise Adam with some homemade bakes. Even though he didn’t need or usually eat human food, it was something to do. And... something you wanted to do for him. But half way through making a batch of blood orange cupcakes, the exhaustion was bearing its weight on you. As you began zesting the skin of an orange, you felt the sharp jolt of pain at your skin catching on the grater, and looked to find the bloody image of your palm all scuffed and cut up underneath it. The pain was certainly enough to wake you up for a moment, and you sucked in a sharp breath, hurriedly looking for a non-dirty dish towel to press against the bleeding.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, looking for a rag.

“(Y/N)? What happened?” Adams voice sounded clearly behind you. You jumped into the air, spooked by the sudden sound and nearly slipping on the tile floor before Adam caught you with one strong arm. His eyes searched your face then quickly glanced down at your palm. You scrambled to stand back up, covering the scrape with your other hand.

“(Y/N), I’m not some blood crazed heathen,” he says, taking your palm in his hand. His tongue slowly licked across your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body. “But I am somewhat aroused by your scent,” he says, looking you in the eye as your palm lingers by his mouth. But instead of going further, his brows furrow.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, holding you steady in one arm as the other reaches up, his fingers brushing lightly under your eyes.

“What? Nothing,” you say with a huff, showing him you can stand just fine. “I was just trying to make some cupcakes and I cut myself carelessly,” you say, trying to wave the issue off. “I’m sorry the smell interrupted you… the blood I mean…” you say, turning to the sink to let water rush down your palm. Duh, you say to yourself.

“That’s not like you,” he says behind you. You shrug, looking over your shoulder, “accidents happen.” It seems to satisfy him enough. You can feel your stomach flutter with nerves, hoping this doesn’t cause some sort of bigger issue. You quickly clean up your hand and turn to him with a soft smile, “I don’t suppose you have any bandaids, do you?”

You can’t help but notice his expression hasn’t changed; he's entirely unconvinced by your act. He tears the bottom of his shirt off then wraps the fabric around your palm. “Oh… sorry, I didn’t mean your shirt—“

“Why haven’t you told me how tired you are?” he asks bluntly, interrupting you. You look at him, unsure how to answer.

“It’s not that bad really,” you try to assure him, but his expression seems to scold you. It’s uncomfortable and makes you nervous so you cross in front of him and take back to your baking, “I haven’t finished this yet so I’ll—“

“No you won’t,” he says, quickly picking you up in his arms with lightning speed. It makes you lightheaded for a moment, but when the stars clear away you see he’s already walking you up the stairs, moving past the music room to his bedroom. He sets you down on his lush four poster bed and begins taking off your shoes.

“Adam, I’m really okay,” you say. Serves you right, trying to lie to a thousand year old vampire, you mock yourself internally.

“No, you’re not. You need to sleep,” he says. You let him take your socks off and watch his hands delicately graze your ankles before he moves to unbutton your pants. Anxiously, you stop him, feeling tears well in your eyes. He looks up at you through his messy black hair. “Please, I can do this… I don’t want to lose you,” you say.

His his eyes soften greatly. You stare back at him with your heart on your sleeve and he crawls up onto the bed to sit behind you, then cuddles you into his arms.

“(Y/N)…” he says softly into your hair. You turn to press your face into his chest, grabbing onto his shoulder.

“I don’t want to loose you because I can’t fucking stay awake,” you say, holding back your tears. “That would literally kill me how stupid that’d be,” you say. You feel him chuckle above you. But you don’t find it funny. You look up at him with furrowed brows.

“Do you really think for one moment that your sleep schedule would stop me from wanting to be with you?” he asks, his fingers smoothing your brows.

“Yes, Adam, I do,” you answer honestly. His expression falls into a more serious one, and you straighten up to say just what you’d been fearing you might one day.

“Because if I can’t, how am I supposed to be with you? I’m already probably not going to get to be with you for long—“

He tilts your face up and presses a long, hard kiss on your lips. You can feel your breath slowly slip away, but the feel of his tongue against yours is enough to make you forget anything else. After a moment, he pulls away, leaving you gasping for air with your face tilted up to his. His hands graze your jaw as his eyes stare down at you with an intensity usually reserved for… other moments.

“Darling, you won’t be getting rid of me anytime soon, and I certainly don’t plan on loosing you then either,” he says. You look back and forth between his dark eyes, feeling a tear fall down your cheek. Adam wipes it away then leans back onto the headboard with you curled up in his arms.

“But, how long can you live with me like this?” you exhort him. He lets his thumb graze your cheek lazily. “As long as you need,” he says. You raise your brow, waiting for him to elaborate.

“There are so many things you have left to see in the daylight,” he says. You shift yourself around to face him, “I could give a crap about daylight.” Adam’s eyes light up as his lips lift up at the corners, painting a humored smile on his face.

“You have the rest of your life… if you want it, to live in the darkness with me,” he says. You lean into him, placing your hands on either side of his face, “I do want it. But that won’t stop me from exhausting myself to be with you… and that’s a warning,” you tell him sternly. He leans in to kiss you, placing his hand on the back of your neck. His eyes stare deep into yours, and his words come out in the lowest of sounds.

“Well then… I may have a cure for that."

#only lovers left alive #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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Imagines as Howl’s Love

You would undoubtedly be curious about magic, and he would be more than excited to teach you about it. But he would also be very cautious, since magic, no matter how soft or powerful, was still dangerous if not welded properly.

He would teach you small spells, like how to grow flowers, or how to make your sewing needles sew for you.

“But I want to learn something bigger... like how to walk in the sky!” you would say. He would smile and caress your face in his hands. “You want to sky-walk without me?”

You’d shake your head.

“It sounds like you do...” he’d tease. But you don’t usually catch on to teasing and quickly try to put the idea to bed.

“No! Oh Howl, never. Forget I even asked.” He’d smile into your hair as you scrambled to hug him.

Howl loved to stargaze with you. And now that you’d built a balcony on the castle, you were able to stand outside underneath the stars no matter where you were.

“I’ll never get tired of looking at this,” you’d say. He would smile, looking at you.

“Starlight, we should get inside, you’ll get cold,” he would say after a while. You’d nod, letting him walk you back into Calcifer’s warmth.

He loved to watch you try to figure out all the crazy magic trinkets hanging in his room. “And what does this do?,” “That is a crystal that detects dark magic,” “And this?,” “That keeps track of the rythm of the waves to the North,” and so on till you’d nearly ask about each and every one. He never got tired of explaining them all to you.

Your favorite thing about his room were his stuffed animals and he always let you sleep with them as he cuddled you in his arms.

Howl loved making breakfast for you, but you also loved making it for him. Yet he always insisted on doing the cooking (when he was there) so you had to either beg him or beat him to it.

He’d wake up in the morning to see you about to get started on some eggs and bacon and immediately use his magic to hover you off the ground and into a seat at the breakfast table.

“Howl!” you’d squeal, trying to kick your legs onto the ground. “Yes, my star?” he’d say nonchalantly, cracking some eggs. Markle would find the whole exchange hilarious.

But he wasn’t always that savvy. When it came to normal, human things, he would also be at a loss. Like swimming.

“You never learned how to swim?” you exclaimed one day when you suggested the idea. Both he and Markle shake their heads. So you set out to teach them.

“Howl, no magic!” you scold him, splashing water in his face, which in turn gets his hair wet, which in turn has him turning on the dramatics.

“Not my hair! Why would you do this to me!” he’d cry. You’d roll your eyes and splash him even harder. Markle would once again think it was hilarious.

“What are you gonna turn into slime again? What a baby. Fine go ahead, melt into ooze. But if Calcifer suddenly runs out of energy over the ocean one day don’t ask me to save you!” you say.

“I’d just fly us out of there before we even hit the water!” Howl would retort.

“You know what? Fine.” You’d plunge into the water, swimming away underneath for as long as you could till you felt Howl pulling you up to the surface.

“(Y/N)!” He’d scold you. But you’d smile, “Howl! You did it! You swam!” Oh he’d be sooo proud of himself.

There were still times that Howl would be gone for long periods... but he’d always bring something special back for you, no matter how much you insisted he didn’t need to.

This time he came back with a little music box covered in emeralds. You were shocked at the beauty of it.. the emeralds sitting in the middle of little flowers carved in the beautiful wood. When you opened it, a very sweet, magic and whimsical song began to play... it felt just like Howl.

“What is this song?” you asked him, “I had it written by a musician friend of mine... he’s a wizard who casts spells through instruments.”

“Oh,” you put the box down, but he held your hands around it, “he wrote this as a spell to give you dreams of us together when I’m away,” he said. You look up at him, feeling your heart swell. “Oh Howl,” you stretch up on your tippy toes to kiss him.

--------

Btw the idea of him calling you “starlight” came from a sweet post of the same nature by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

#howls moving castle #howl pendragon #imagine howl #howl imagine #howls moving castle imagine #howl pendragon x reader

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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So i’m having fun with the idea of writing little inbetweener one-shots as this series goes on. I wanted to open it up to recommendations. Are there any scenarios you guys wanna see? :) It could help me with more inspo. Just comment under this post with a situation/what version of tom you’d wanna see a fic of. :) and perhaps i shall choose yours! (I’ll give a shoutout to the person whose prompt I select!)

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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The King & I (Pt. 13)

This chapter is a little bit shorter than the longer ones I’ve been putting out. I wanted to just keep this incident condensed in its own chapter.

HISTORICAL AU (but not necessarily historically accurate bc this is a fanfic not a research project lol): King Henry V & “Street Urchin” reader who takes in and cares for abandoned/orphaned children.

CW: Sexual Assault, Violence

CHAPTER 13: THE UGLY SIDE

The night was a whirlwind. It felt as though I’d lived three different lives at once. One in which the world I knew it had come to a bittersweet end; that in which my dearest friend was gone. Another in which I was the secret lover of the King, dousing our skin in honey as if I were in some secret fairytale, and the third, in which I played the part of a Lady worthy of respect and admiration- so it seemed. Hal and I danced in a way I could never have imagined… having danced most my life the jigs and reels I’d learned in taverns and from the women my mother worked with, I’d never been held the way Hal was holding me.

As the festivities continued on, Hal was pulled away to answer to his witan. Meanwhile, I was left amongst a crowd of people I’d never imagined I’d be standing in. I backed away, allowing for more space for the dancing couples, and watched with fascination the way these women and men looked between each other as though there were no other cares in the world.

“You look dashing, my Lady,” a woman says beside me. I look over at her decorated figure… for someone who worships a christian King, she certainly wore her weight in gold. I bow politely, watching her off with an equally decorated Lord. I can’t help but scoff as the hypocrisy. I lean forward to peek outside, where the festivities are lively and wild, different from the atmosphere in here. Seeing as Hal was busy elsewhere, I decide to join the towns people in the courtyard.

“My Lady,” a voice calls from behind me then. I turn to face a young man, around Hal’s age. By the look of his bruised face, he was a soldier from Hal’s army, yet he was decorated as a noble. I smiled, playing my role with a curtsey. “Might I ask you for a dance?” he continued with a bow.

“I… I’m afraid I’m not much one for dancing,” I tell him. He smiles, moving towards me, “Yet you seemed to be,” he nods towards the floor.

“Well, the King is quite a good partner,” I respond with a smile.

“Will you not indulge me in a turn about the room?” he asks again. I look up at him… trying to discern if his persistence is something to concern myself with, or simply a soldier looking to celebrate an evening of glory. I glance around the room for Hal before accepting his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead me onto the floor. His movements are not as fluid as Hals, but nevertheless I can tell he knows how to dance. As we turn, I peek back over towards the courtyard, envying the reels being danced on the dirt ground.

“The King is generous, letting the common people on palace grounds,” the man says above me. It instantly discomforts me. “Generous?” I say to him. He nods, “His father would never have allowed a celebration like this,” he says, scorn hinted in his words. “Well, that is because the King has a deep understanding for his country,” I retort. He looks down at me, his brow raised in interest. “Oh? And how do you know that?” he says. I feel my frustration build, yet I know I need to choose my words carefully. “Because of what we see here today,” I say, looking out into the yard once again. He looks at me for a moment before turning his head away, chuckling at my comment. And now I desperately want to get out of his grasp. But in that moment, he presses me flush against him, and when I move to loosen the space between us, he only presses harder. I look up at him, seeing his pointed gaze fall on me with some sort of… disdain? Or pride? It was hard to tell. But rather than find out, I try to shift away.

“Sir, I- I think I’ve danced quite enough,” I say.

He looks down at me, a smirk on his lips, “But we’ve only just begun getting to know each other.” He dances towards the courtyard, and smoothly transitions into leading me outside the great hall. I look out for the opportunity to sneak away into the crowds of celebrating Englishmen, but I then feel myself being lead me away from the festivities. I dig my heels in as hard as I can, trying to pull away from him, but his rough grip on my wrist tells me just what I need to know about him. “Let me go!” I demand. He continues pulling me forward even while I hit him. None of it seems to make him budge.

“Let me go or I’ll kill you!” I yell. He only laughs in response. I watch the drunken crowd grow farther away the deeper he takes me down the path leading to the palace stables. I lean over and bite his hand, hearing him yell in response. I’m able to run away just far enough to catch the eye of one of the party-goers before I feel his arm around my waist again. I shriek, yelling for help while kicking my legs into his stomach— or trying to. He grips them in his arms, taking me back into the stables.

“Hal!” I screech, “Hal!”

“I knew you knew him bloody bitch, you were probably one of his whores weren’t you? I was at the tavern too you know— we may have met before,” the man calls over to me as I dangle over his back.

“Let me go, I’m not a whore!” I yell at him. He lets me down and I try to bite him again, but this time he slaps me. The sheer shock of the action paralyzes me and he pushes me back onto a pile of hay. I watch him smile down at me as he starts unbuckling his belt.

I wriggle underneath him, but his weight on top of me has me pinned. “Please,” I cry, trying to see if anyone was coming to save me between the thin slats of wood of the stable. But I feel him begin to close in on me. The most blood curdling scream rips from my chest and I am met with another slap- no… this was harder than that.

Suddenly I hear the sound of someone yelling before the mans body slumps away from me. I blink, hardly able to see in the dark night around me, but whoever it was is helping me up now. “Come, we need to get you away from any prying eyes,” the man says. Unable to see and merely grateful to be led away, I follow him. As we reach a patch of moonlight, I can see the familiar face I owe my rescue to- it’s Connelly. I stare up at him with wide eyes, but he only looks forward. What does this mean? I can’t help but think. The ground is uneven beneath us, and I feel Connelly’s hands strong underneath my arms, helping me stay upright.

Connelly helps me into the kitchen, where he hands me off to a few maids before disappearing.

“You poor dear, are you alright?” a woman my age says, placing her hand around my shoulder. I nod, looking around to find where Connelly went, seeing not a trace of him anywhere. I accept a cup of water from another maid. “What happened to her?” a little voice calls from behind me, it’s the younger girl from earlier. I look back, my heart piercing at her frightened eyes.

“Nothing- it was nothing darling, I just took a fall,” I respond to her, knowing she didn’t need to hear anything else about the incident. She walks over to me, placing a hand on my back. “You helped me once,” she whispers to me.

Before I can respond, the most cherished voice in the world to me calls into the room. “(Y/N)?” Hal walks over to me and brushes the hair from my face. His eyes are full of some kind of shock or anger that I’ve never seen in him before.

“I’m okay, Hal,” I say to him, reaching my hand to his. He pulls away, his jaw tensing. “Find whoever it was and have him arrested,” he says. I look at him, unsure what to say. It seems futile to say a word right now.

“(Y/N) and I will be taking our leave tonight,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist. I flinch, feeling a tender spot on my hip under his touch. Hal jerks his arm away quickly, worry flashing across his face. “It’s alright, it doesn’t hurt too bad,” I assure him.

“Have a healer brought to my chamber,” he requests before leading me with gentle hands. I look back at the crowd behind us, and a crowd it is. The maids watch me off, each with such a different expression on her face that I can’t make out what they must think of me.

“Come, (Y/N),” Hal calls me gently. I lean my body against him, allowing him to lead me to his room.

———————-

HALS POV

I wanted to continue dancing with her all night, but I was called away by the witan who were eager to know which crown I’d be wearing, and if there was soon to be a queen by my side. And indeed, there was.

“I wish I never had to part from you, but I must attend to the witan,” I tell (Y/N). She nods, pulling her small hands away from me. I step forward, wanting so badly to kiss her… but instead, I can only brush the hair away from her face. How desperately I wanted to be married to her already.

As I walk over to the circle of old men, I call Connelly over. “Please old friend, will you keep an eye on her?” I ask him. He nods. I thank him with a pat on the shoulder before approaching the witan.

“You did not accept the Dauphin’s daughter?” Lord Paul asks quickly, his buggy yellowed eyes scorning me. The rest of them follow suit, staring at me with incredulity.

“I did not,” I state simply. “It was not needed.”

“You reclaimed your right to the French throne, yet have no one there to sit in your stead, representing this victory,” Lord Roland reproaches beside me.

It’s maddening to stand in the middle of these old men, these men who throw nothing but words into the air while my men and I threw our very lives on the line to attain the victory we did. And yes, there was the matter of Catherine… which was resolved quickly by our strength as an army. The Dauphin had no choice, if he wished to remain alive, but to surrender to us. As for Catherine, she would merely have been a conquest of pride and vanity. I didn’t need her— England didn’t need her. England needs someone like (Y/N). England needs an English Queen.

I pull my sword out, thrusting it forward into the faces of the witan. The blade is dark with dried blood. “This is your representation, right here, the blood of the French army still clings to every sword of every man in this room,” I say. Lord Roland glares at me, but I know he hears my truth. I know they all do. “Hang it up if you will,” I say, forcing them to take hold of it.

“And of the soldiers, your Majesty?” Lord Byron asks, his tone calm. I look to him, thanking him with my eyes. “The soldiers who died are to me commemorated to the best of our abilities. Their names will be written in our history, their families are to be given a sum of 300 pieces of silver each.”

The men mutter around me, “What? For each man?” Lord Paul scoffs. “Yes, for each man,” I say.

“But we don’t—“

“France is ours. We have more than enough,” I interject before he can finish his claim. He stares at me silently, knowing I speak the truth.

I turn away, looking for (Y/N), but with the crowd of dancing people I can barely see through to where I left her.

“And what of a Queen?” Lord Roland asks. I turn to him, feeling the joy in my chest.

“I’ve made my decision.”

They mutter amongst each other again and I know I’ll need more time before I tell them my plans. For now, I didn’t need anyone sending Catherine letters.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to continue celebrating England’s victory. One my Father could never have brought you,” I tell them. And it feels wonderful. I walk back towards the crowd, searching for (Y/N) amongst the party goers.

“Congratulations my Lord!” voices shout over to me. The Lords and Ladies around me bow and shake my hand. Everyone wants to congratulate our victory.

“My Lord,” Connelly’s voice sounds from behind me. I turn to find his face solemn and pale.

“It’s… the-“ he glances at the people around us, “there’s a disturbance outside,” he says, eying me deeply. I feel something twist inside my stomach and immediately follow him. He walks me towards the kitchen, where a group of maids huddle around the silken amber skirt I recognized (Y/N) wearing earlier.

“(Y/N)?” I call. The maids move aside and she is revealed to me like a gem of glowing topaz. Except topaz doesn’t bruise the way her cheek does. Everything in the room seems to fall away as I walk towards her. I brush the hair from her face, tilting her chin up to see the large purple spot on her cheek. It takes everything in me not to scream.

Instead of me comforting her, she seems to beat me to it. “I’m okay, Hal,” she says. My mind is full of confusion and rage as I look back at her. I bid our company goodnight before moving to help her up. As I place my arm around her waist, she flinches, sucking in a sharp breath. Fear shoots through me at the thought of having hurt her. “It’s alright, it doesn’t hurt too bad” she says.

“Have a healer brought to our chamber,” I call to the servants around me. I take her hand in mine and try to hold her gently as I can, but she leans into me, asking to be held.

When we enter my chamber, I lead her to my bed, helping her sit. I kneel in front of her, to better look her in the eye.

—————

“Who did this?” he asks me softly. I look back at him, unsure how to answer. “I don’t know…” I say. He leans forward, pressing his palm against my less sensitive cheek, surely there was a bruise there. “(Y/N), please tell me,” he says.

“I didn’t know his name,” I say, “but Hal, it’s alright I—“

“It’s not alright,” he says sharply. I shut my mouth. He stands, running a hand over his head. “This is not how I imagined the night unfolding,” he says. I watch him pace against the stone floor. But the longer he stays silent, the more embarrassed I begin to feel, and a small sob escapes my lips.

“(Y/N)?” he quickly moves towards me, kneeling down again, his hands resting against the bed on either side of my legs. I didn’t want to look at him, and tried to turn my gaze away, watching instead the beautiful dress become stained with tears beneath me.

“I didn’t want to cause trouble for you…” I say with a shaky voice. His touch is on my face again, willing me to look back up. His eyes stare into me with fury and kindness. I can feel his anger, but through it all there is love. Of that I am painfully aware.

“(Y/N), don’t you dare think for a moment… you… you’re the most precious person in the world to me,” he tells me. My heart aches at his words. He shifts to stand, then moves to sit beside me. I feel his fingers tap against my side. “May I?” he asks, gesturing to my corset. I nod, allowing him to unlace the bodice, then the corset underneath.

I step out of the fairytale dress and sit in Hal’s lap, hugging him tightly. “Darling, let me check the wound on your side,” he says. I move to stand, letting him lift my shift so to see the area where the bruise formed. He brushes his fingers over it, and I watch his disapproval grow.

“He’ll pay for this,” he says, though I can’t tell if it’s to me or to himself. “I promise,” he says then. I tilt his gaze towards me, “Please Hal, it’s not even the worst injury I’ve gotten,” I admit. Suddenly his expression sends a chill down my spine, and Hal feels it. His fingers trace the goosebumps on my skin. He shakes his head with a sigh.“I told you that I would come back from this war to you.” I nod, remembering very well. His hand reaches for mine, his fingers finding the silver ring on my index finger. “I also made a promise to myself that I would make it so that you would never bear another scar…”

I watch his fingers trace my hip, but stop him. “You can’t keep me away from every danger,” I say to him. He takes his hand back, pulling my left hand towards his face.

“As my Queen, it will be my duty, as your husband,” he says, pressing a kiss to his ring on my finger. I feel my body rise with goosebumps again.

“As your Queen?” I ask him, almost too low to hear. The depth of his eyes is almost too much for me to bear as he lets my shift fall back down over my knees. He pulls me closer, his hands finding their way across my back. Then he presses a kiss just below the collar of my neck. Oh.

“As England’s Queen…” he kisses me again, “and my wife.”

#King Henry V #henry v imagine #prince hal #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #the hollow crown

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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Guys I’m just saying… the world is sleeping on Joaquin Phoenix as Johnny Cash in “Walk the Line.” Highly recommend you watch him.

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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A Waltz in the Sky (One Shot)

A cute and short little one-shot for Ghibli/Tom fans. I watched an interview where he tried to pronounce “Totoro” like it was the most foreign word to him and was like omg, he’s never seen Miyazaki!

Fluff, romance, feel good.

Synopsis: You introduce Tom to Studio Ghibli and he teaches you to dance.

“Darling, what song is playing?” Tom asks as he walks into the living room. You’d set up shop there to work on some art projects to calm your frantic mind. You’d been feeling in a slump all week, hearing your anxious thoughts run wild without your permission. Today you made it a point to do something, no matter how small, that would make you happy. And nothing made you happier than playing with paints with the music of Ghibli films accompanying you in the background.

“It’s from ‘Totoro,’” you answer him, experimenting with different shades of green on the little tree you’d just painted.

“Toto..ro?,” he asks. You look up at him, raising a brow. “’My Neighbor Totoro,’ Studio Ghibli?”

He looks at you with a frown. Oh my god.

“You’ve never seen a Ghibli film!?” you ask, standing. He’s used to your dramatics by now and simply shakes his head.

“Thomas,” you say sternly. He bites back a laugh as you march up to him. “”Spirited Away?,’ ‘Howl’s Moving Castle?,” he shakes his head. “Thomas!!!” you shriek. He laughs as you slap him playfully on the arm.

“I thought you were this all powerful film guy!” you tease. He rolls his eyes, “My time with you has proven to me I am very much not the all powerful film guy in this relationship.”

You smile proudly, standing up onto your toes to give him a kiss, “indeed.” You set your heels back onto the ground and let him wrap you against him in his arms.

“Alright, put one on,” he smiles. You jump giddly, taking his hand to lead him towards the couch. He follows suit, placing himself in his spot as you crawl over him in search of your phone.

“We’ll start off with one I think you’ll like,” you say, searching the film up. He leans his head to the side, watching your excitement fondly as you set the film up on the TV. As the screen turns blue, you turn to place a kiss on his cheek, squeezing him in a hug. You loved being able to show the talented Tom Hiddleston new movies. In a way, this is how you spoke to him. Tom was such a classics man, and you’d watched and listened to him memorize Shakesperean scripts and poetry. He loved his action flicks too, of course. But when on the rare occasion you got to show him something he’d never seen before, it was so special to you, and he knew that. They were the films that allowed him to see into you deeper. For him, he was so used to analyzing and studying the performances and nuances within the films he watched... but when it was for you, he enjoyed the movies in such a different way. Because he could find you in them.

“Howls Moving Castle” played as you two cuddled on the couch. You smile and “aww” and blush at Tom’s teasing of your totally obvious crush on Howl. “Hey, he’s a tall, good looking, blue eyed mischief maker... I can see you have a type,” he teased. You shoved him playfully, hiding in the crook of his neck.

The movie went on, and you saw the way Tom wrapped himself up in the beautiful world of Miyazaki’s making. As Sophie rescued Howl, you watched Tom’s eyes water... you loved knowing you showed him something that truly moved him.

“That was lovely,” he says as the credits roll. His hands reach up to his eyes, wiping them. You smile, pressing a kiss onto each of his hands. “You liked it?” you ask. He looks to you, pulling your face towards him for a kiss. “I loved it.”

“Doesn’t it make you want to just... run into big open a field?” you say, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It makes me want to walk through the air, holding your hand and dance a waltz in the sky,” he says. You take his hand in yours, tracing his palm with your fingers. “You would have to teach me,” you say. His hand takes yours, stopping your movements. “With pleasure,” he says. You look up at him and he moves to stand, “shall we?” he asks. You smile, taking his hand and standing by him.

“What music should we use?” I ask him. He looks to the TV, “that waltz in the beginning of the film, what was it?” You smile giddly, opening your phone to connect the song to the speakers.

“The Merry-Go-Round of Life,” you tell him. The song begins and he places his hand on the small of your back, extending your arm out to the side. You place your left hand on his shoulder and press against him. You learn the square like steps quickly, earning a kiss with every right step, and then, he spins you around the room. “That’s my girl,” he says. You cant help the huge smile that grows across your face and you hide your face in his chest. He laughs in amusement, hugging you tightly, then leans down to place a kiss on your head.

“My darling girl,” he says, making you blush. And for a while, as the song becomes a ballad, slow and soft, you sway together, back and forth as the sun sets over the hills, turning the world blue around you.

“It’s true, you know,” he says after a moment. You look up at him, waiting for him to say more. “You’re the dearest thing in the world to me,” he says. You rest your chin against his chest, staring up at him. “I wonder if we were ever lovers in a past life,” you say, alluding to the film. A smile rises at the corner of his mouth, and he sets his gaze on your eyes.

With a hand caressing your face, he says to you: “Somewhere in my past, something happened to bring you to me, and that’s all that matters.” Butterflies fill your stomach and he bends down to give you a kiss before picking you up in his arms.

“You’re my entire heart, (Y/N).”

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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The King & I (Pt 12)

Y’all better like this one because I hyper focused on it for a two straight hours.

CW: Descriptions of physical intimacy (but nothing raunchy... just a lil spice)

CHAPTER 12: HONEY

They won. It had been declared by the town crier earlier in the day. King Henry V had regained his claim to the throne of France. There was to be a parade to welcome the soldiers home.

Little Lily skips around the room like a rabbit as the criers news echoes down the alleyway. “We’ll make a feast! For Carter and Joey and John and—“

“For all of them!” Evie yells happily.

The younger boys and girls can hardly contain themselves with glee. I want to share in their unrivaled joy, but I had seen how battle changed men. The thought of Carter coming back with that grayness inside him pained me too much. But I wouldn’t stop them from welcoming their older brothers -which they were in some way- back home. “Alright, we’ll go out and find a feast!” I say, letting myself be rushed out the door by a wave of little hands and faces. I entrust a few shillings with each of the oldest boys, who would entrust the selection of goods to the girls. It was the only fair compromise we could come to since the first time I’d let them out for errands. I envied their worries amusingly.

As for me, I would figure out more about the whereabouts of Hal’s army. I spot the crier walking towards the tavern and run to catch him before he breaks the news to the drunken crowd.

“Sir!” I yell, running up to him. He turns back enough to catch my eye. “Where are the soldiers now?” I ask. He turns back, walking on without facing me. “They are to return today… those that are left.”

My heart stops at his words. Those left? I run up to him, grabbing his arm, “Those left?”

He shrugs away from me, eyeing me the way everyone but Hal did.

“Many died, more than half of the men who were sent out,” he said. My mind spins, struggling to comprehend his words as I stay frozen in the middle of the road. Everything suddenly felt cold. People passed by, yelling and shoving their way through the street to get to the markets, splashing muddy water onto my skirts and hands, but they all seemed so far away from where my heart had taken me.

“(Y/N)?,” a familiar voice called me out of my daze. I looked up to see Mrs. Quickly walking towards me. Her hands came up to my face, wiping away at whatever droplets of muck had splashed me.

“How long have you been standing here?” she asked me. I looked at her, blinking. “Not long… I think,” I tell her. She eyes me carefully then moves to hook her arm with mine. “Come with me now dear, we’ll clean up your skirts.” I let her bring me into the tavern, walking past the celebratory crowd, drunk on ignorance and mead.

“Now tell me, what’s the matter dear?” Mrs. Quickly asks as she unbuttons my skirt. I step out of the waist, watching her take a brush to the muddied hem before answering.

“What if he doesn’t come back,” I say. She looks back at me with a brow raised, “Hal will be here.”

“Not Hal…” I say, not wanting to elaborate more. If I didn’t speak it it couldn’t be true. If only I could do the same with my thoughts.

“Hal will have taken care of them, (Y/N),” she assures me. I can’t help the anger that bubbles inside me. How does she know? How could Hal have truly kept an eye on them and the throne?

I take a breath, walking to peer through the dirty window.

“You mustn’t fear what you don’t yet know,” I hear Mrs. Quickly say behind me. I twist Hal’s ring around my finger, silently praying for a miracle. Not that God had shown me one before.

Rowdy voices began sounding from the tavern and Mrs. Quickly and I hurried to the doorway to hear the stories being shared.

“They battled the French with less than half the army to spare!” someone shouts atop a table. Mrs. Quickly would usually shoo them off, but today the news was too important for manners. “King Henry fought alongside them, leading the men towards the French army on his own!”

My eyes widened at the thought of Hal facing an army head on. I pictured him on Perseus’ back, charging forward, sword in hand. And then I pictured him on the ground, a deep red pooling inside his red coat… a shiver shot down my spine as I shook the thought away.

“The French King had no choice but to submit to the sheer strength of our English army!” The same man yells, rousing cheers from the crowd around him. “England has prevailed! King Henry has ended the war!”

Cheers and celebratory hugs fill the room, while pints of ale and mead thrash about, filling the tavern with a wet scent of barley and alcohol. I push through the crowd, too anxious to wait for my skirts to dry. I had to be out there, I had to see him the moment he arrived.

I’m met with rushing crowds as soon as I step outside. Merchants quickly close up shops as others drag their goods on towards the town square. It was time.

I rushed forward, knowing the children would be waiting to meet me where the fanfare would be. My heart pounded in my ears as I steadied myself above the cobble stoned streets. There was too much to anticipate and too much to fear and I felt my eyes sting with tears. I shook my head, refusing to break down now.

“There they are!,” someone in the crowd yells. Cheers erupt all around me as I try pushing through the dense wall of people. The King’s flag waves above and I can’t help myself. I shove through, elbowing my way to the front of the line, dodging disapproving spits and scornful glares.

“All hail the King!” Someone in the crowd yells, followed by a roar of approval. And then, there he is.

His face is covered in dirt and grime, but I know those eyes. I could never mistake them. His armor shines underneath the gloomy sky… and it’s the first time I’ve seen a crown on Hal’s head. My stomach flutters as I watch him, hoping he’ll find my gaze and run to me. But the sudden reality of their hardship hits me. Behind him, a trail of wounded men… some on their horses, others dragged in carts behind them. And then the few unscathed, the lucky ones, that protect the wounded from us. The common people.

My eyes dart frantically, searching for Carter, John and Joseph. But it’s nearly impossible to tell the boys apart, what with their hair colored by the same mud and… blood… as the next ones. “Carter?” I call, walking along the soldiers line. “Carter!?” I yell again.

None of the soldiers look at me. I make my way to walk through to the center, needing to see for myself if the boys were in the carts, but I’m quickly stopped by an older soldier. “Get back!” he yells at me, shoving me away. I trip and fall back onto the ground. Fury wells up inside me and I stand myself up, shoving past the standing men and into the center of the line.

“Carter!” I yell.

“You can’t be here, girl!” a soldier yells at me, grabbing my arm. I shove an elbow into his side and continue on. A cart with a few wounded men inside passes by me. I peer inside, too afraid to speak. “C-Carter?” I ask the men. None respond, but their frightened eyes latch onto me chillingly. I move away, stumbling back once again as the militia continues forward.

“Get out of the way!” A man yells as I’m pushed back out to the street. “I need to find someone!” I yell back, trying to shove through.

“My Lady,” A familiar voice calls down the line. I look over to see the familiar white steed staring down out of the line. My heart pounds as I look to see Hal’s blue eyes on me. Though his expression is almost too stoic to bear. I step away, staring up at him. Still, he only looks at me. A wave of fear floods over me and I can’t stand how alone I am in the middle of the road. I turn and push through the crowd again, running home.

———————————

HALS POV

All I wanted to do was taker her up in my arms and into my palace. Bring her into my chamber and sleep with her by my side forever. But the fury in her voice was all too familiar. I knew what she was afraid of, and I… was afraid too.

I tried to keep myself straight, composed in the eyes of the people surrounding us. I’d seen battle yet somehow her sadness brought me more fear than our outnumbered army against the French. But before I could approach her, she was gone.

“My Lord?” Connelly calls from behind me. I turn back to bring Perseus into line. I nod, allowing him to call the march forward.

That night a celebration was to be held at the palace. For once, one where the entire town was invited into court. The finest wine and scotch would be served and we would celebrate what we had. Our country, our kingdom, and the men whose lives were given to attain it.

“I’ll be taking my leave here,” I said to Connelly as we reach the palace gates. I pull Perseus to the side and wait for Connelly to follow.

“Hal, know it’s not your fault what happened,” he says to me as I turn. I shake my head. “Isn’t it?”

The expression on his face stern as my father’s remained in my memory. “This is what Kings do,” he says to me, “his life was not given in vain.”

The sun begins to break out from behind the clouds, and the warmth is so welcomed by my skin goosebumps rise at the touch. I turned my head toward the bright sunlight, letting Connelly’s words settle within me. He was right, I couldn’t go to her in shame. Carter had been a soldier to England, and in more ways than such, I would be indebted to him forever.

I give Perseus the command to trot on to (Y/N) and make to face her.

————————————

The sun had come out against the clouds and a warmth wafted through the air into our home. I couldn’t pull myself away from the kitchen table, needing to know whether the sound of Carter or John or Joseph would approach the door. And finally, someone did.

I stood fast to open the door myself, and was relieved to find John at the step. I hurled into him, pressing him into a hug against me, feeling tears fall from my eyes as we both held each other tight. I smiled, huffing in joy at John’s presence here now. The feel of his wooden hand on my back brought a warmth to my heart. It was him.

“Oh, John,” I say through tears. He is quiet and still as I pull away to see him. Just like the other soldiers, his face is dirty with earth and sweat. I pull him inside, grabbing a cloth from our pile of rags to wipe his face.

“Are you alright? Were you hurt?” I ask him. He shakes his head, letting me clean him. “We should find you water to bathe,” I say, ready to lead him out the door. But he stops me, squeezing my palm in his.

“What is it?” I ask instantly. He stares at me, his eyes full of words, yet I can’t hear anything. “Tell me,” I say.

Footsteps sound behind me and I turn quickly, expecting to find one of the others coming up behind me. But I’m met with someone else.

“(Y/N),” Hal says, spotting me. John kneels down, bowing respectfully.

“Please John, there is no need for that here,” Hal says, gesturing for him to stand. John adjusts himself, standing up and straight in the presence of the man he now knew to be his King.

“Hal,” I say, feeling my heart flutter as I do. I run to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing myself into his chest as far as I could. His arms wrap around me and I feel his lips press against my head.

“(Y/N), my (Y/N),” he mumbles into my hair. I can’t stop the tears that escape me. I am utterly relieved to have him to hold onto now.

“And the rest?” I ask him. He is quiet, and after a moment his hands pull mine away from him so to look me in the eye. I search his gaze, full of words, and this time it’s all too loud.

“No,” I breathe, feeling my world close in. Hal’s arm comes underneath me, catching me though I didn’t feel my fall. His hands wrap around my waist, holding me steady. I reach out to Joseph, needing his hand.

“They fought for their country. For their kingdom,” Hal says. I look up at him, my mind blank and raging at once.

“Carter… was defending Joseph,” John says next to me. I look to him, pleading for him to continue. “We were totally outnumbered by the French… we had no choice but to keep going, and Joseph… first it was his arm,” I wince, closing my eyes and pressing myself into Hal’s chest. “Then Carter came forward to defend him… and then they were both on the ground,” John says. I reach over to him, holding him against me. Pressing him into a hug, trying to make him feel safe, at home. What could I do but offer these men I loved my comfort? I had nothing else but that, and I would give it ten fold.

I pull away then, composing myself. I look to John and place a hand on the side of his face, “All I want to do is protect you, yet it seems you’re all protecting me.”

John smiles softly, placing his hand atop mine. “You gave us all a reason to fight, (Y/N).” I can’t hold back my tears.

————-

HALS POV

(Y/N) had allowed me to escort her to the palace with John where the maids and servants took care to welcome them as I prepared for the feast to be had in the soldiers honor.

As I remove my armor, the weight of the world slowly melts off with it. The sound of metal hitting the ground was all too fresh in my mind, and hardly phased me as the servants around me prepared my bath.

“I shall take it from here,” I tell them, raising a hand in signal for them to leave. With quick bows they scurried out, leaving a steaming tub of water for me to sink into. Heaven.

As I remove my garments, a knock sounds at the door. “Is it urgent?” I call out, wincing as I stretch my shirt over my head. I look down at the bruise underneath my ribcage, and the small gash across my stomach.

The door opens before any response is given, and I am met with the sight of (Y/N) tiptoeing into my chamber. My heart jumps at her small frame by the large wooden door. It was a sight akin to a fawn stumbling into ones home.

She closes the heavy lock on the door and cautiously walks toward me. I breathe, feeling my shoulders fall as I reach my arms out to her. Almost as suddenly, she runs into them, pressing herself against me. I wince slightly at the impact against my wounds and hear her gasp, pulling away.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” she says, moving back. I take her hands in mine, pulling her nearer. “Would you help me?””

Her face reddens as she takes in my torso, and I admit it makes my stomach flutter. Her hand reaches forward, feathering my wounds with her fingers. I pull her towards the tub, letting her decide her next move as I move to undress. She quickly turns, hiding her face in her hair.

“It’s nothing you’ve not seen before, darling,” I tease her. She peeks back at me with wide eyes before turning again. I can’t help but chuckle. Slowly I ease myself into the warm bath, dunking myself under, letting the water soak my face and head. The feeling of water on skin and wounds is absolutely delicious. I lay back and feel myself rest for the first time in a week. I turn to watch (Y/N) take in my chamber. I wish I could paint, for I could spend hours analyzing every inch of her being.

“Wont you come closer?” I call to her. She looks over and smiles, walking over with a giddy gait. She sits beside me on the steps by the tub, and I reach a hand out to hold hers. She takes it, resting her arm along the basin.

“I’ve never been in a palace,” she says. I chuckle, smiling softly. “And what are your thoughts?” She looks around, choosing her words. “It’s not as overwhelming as I’d imagined.”

I pull her towards me, pressing my lips onto hers. How I missed the taste of her lips, like the soft skin of berries against my own. “I missed you, (Y/N),” I say. Her gaze lowers as her face reddens yet again. I run a finger across her cheek softly.

“I missed you, Hal,” she says softly. Her gaze finds mine and my heart is struck by her beauty. She stands, moving to grab a cloth that she dips into the water, then kneels beside me, taking my face in her left hand as her right cleans the dirt off of my skin. I melt into her caring touch, simply watching her, letting her tend to my wounds. She grabs a pot of honey left by the servants earlier and gently pours some onto the cuts on my ear and shoulder. And then, with a small finger, she dips into the bowl and smears some onto my lips.

Her face closes up to mine and I can feel my heart go wild. She presses her lips onto mine and I’m completely hers. She licks the honey off with her tongue, then presses into my mouth, sharing the sweetness with me. I sit up, holding her back in my hands, pressing her close to me. She pulls away, breathless, her eyes surprised and curious and I can’t stand it a moment longer. I get out of the tub, letting the water drip around me as I begin removing her dress. She presses soft kisses on my chest as I do, driving me mad. I lead her to my bed, and just as I move to lay her down, she spins me around, pushing me gently onto the duvet as she runs to grab the honey pot.

I laugh as she dramatically spoons the golden syrup up and down, and then pours it over the gash on my stomach, then up the crest of my chest. I lay down as she cradles me with her legs, and a sigh leaves my lips at the feel of her tongue on my skin. She licks the sweet honey up to my chest, then my neck, my jaw... and kisses my lips yet again.

“Goodness, (Y/N), and here I thought I was the bold one,” I tell her. She laughs secretly, pressing kisses onto my neck. My hands find her hips and I slowly lead her to the place that connects us both. I look at her, gauging her eyes for approval and she smiles, nodding softly before shifting her skirts about her.

—————

When I wake up, the sky outside Hal’s window is dark, and all over me is the sticky residue of a honeyed affair. I look to Hal, who is in the bath once again. He smiles as he sees me peek over at him.

“Good evening my Lady,” he says. I hold the covers against myself as I stand to greet him. He gestures for me to join him in the bath and I can’t help but oblige. I dip into the warm water, leaning my back against his chest, letting his hands wrap around my waist and his lips press against my matted hair.

“What’s so funny?” I ask when I hear him chuckle. He moves to grab a bowl by the bath. “Lean your head back,” he says softly. My stomach flutters at his voice and I oblige him. He pours the water gently over my hair, running his fingers through it to remove the knots throughout. “Am I hurting you?” he asks. I shake my head, turning to look up at him. He smiles down at me, placing a kiss on my forehead.

“We’ve got to get down to the feast soon,” he says. I nod, kneeling and turning to place one more kiss on his lips.

“Yes, my Lord,” I say. At the words, his eyes pierce wildly through me and I feel my heart skip a beat. I stand, grabbing a towel cloth to dry myself as he does suit. Before any more words can be exchanged, his maids and servants run through the door and we are taken separate ways.

“My Lady, we must prepare you now for Majesty’s feast,” one of the maids says to me. I look at her half in shock, but allow her to lead me. My mind is consumed by Hal’s scent, touch and taste… and I hardly notice the garments being dressed onto me. I remembered the way the ladies would dress each other at Madame B’s, and I was grateful my embarrassment at being seen in such a state with the King was graciously ignored by the women around me. It was odd to think of them as servants, when I was only me. I had no knowledge of who knew what about Hal and I, so I stayed as calm as I could, allowing their attentions to feel normal and not completely foreign as they were.

My hair was soon being combed back, and fashioned the way I’d seen women in carriages wear theirs. Suddenly I felt I’d drank bad ale or was still asleep in some dream… the dress… the dress they wanted to put me in. It was amber toned, with gold embroidery and a golden sash to be tied around the waist. My eyes nearly popped out of my skull just from looking at it.

“Step into the skirt here, my Lady,” one of the women tell me. I dreamily step into the middle of the amber gown, feeling the silky fabric rest around one of the seemingly dozens of skirts they’d put on me. I could hardly compose my hands from rubbing the lush silk… I’d only ever felt something this lovely once before…

“Darling! Please be careful with that handkerchief, it was a very special gift.” Mama said.

I remember wrapping the silky pink fabric around my neck… dragging it across my arms and along my face, feeling like it was the skin of an angel or a fairy that had been shed or fallen off as they’d flown by town. It was in my opinion the most beautiful of all of Mama’s things. And here I was, wearing a gown made entirely out of it.

“My Lady, we shall now accompany you to the hall,” the lady servant said behind me. I turned and nodded, allowing her to lead me.

“Please my Lady, your feet,” a young servant girl said. I looked over at the girl, her face striking me as familiar. She held a pair of shoes in her hands. A pair of amber slippers with golden embroidery… perfectly matching the dress. I lifted my skirts, allowing her to slip them onto my feet.

“You look beautiful, my Lady,” the young servant girl said. I smiled down at her, thanking her. She was so young to be working in such a position… I swore I could place her face somewhere.

“My Lady, we must go,” the older servant woman called me. I nodded, thanking the young girl once more before following her out the door.

As I walked towards the hall, the sound of laughter and celebration grew louder. I suddenly felt myself nervous, walking towards the great hall of the castle of the King of England. Who was I to be here? Dressed in such finery? As we entered the hall, the feeling became overwhelming. There were people of all kinds here… soldiers, Lords, Ladies… and at the end of the hall, Hal. I latched my sights onto him, hoping he’d see me, but the celebrations had people dancing across the floor, making me feel small as a flea. I follow the lady servant through the crowd, noticing her leading us towards a table full of well dressed ladies. I take hold of her arm and lean in to her, “I’d like to see the King first if you wouldn’t mind?” I tell her. She shakes her head, “the King is about to give his speech, you may see him after,” she tells me. My heart sinks but I follow her lead. I’m sat at a table where a few women are gathered between men of high ranking, and their cordial greetings strike my nerves. Thankfully I’ve no time to answer.

“Subjects of England! Your King, Henry the Fifth!”

The crowd erupts in cheers as Hal stands to receive his praise. I can’t help but smile. He delivers a speech about the bravery of his men, recounting the heroic efforts of his soldiers when faced in a seemingly impossible standoff with the French militia. “Were it not for the bravery of Sir Carter, as he would be dubbed had he survived, our army would have fallen… as would England.” I look at him, seeing his eyes search the room. He continues, “for it was his sacrifice between myself and a French spy that spared my life.” I gasp, feeling my heart hit the floor.

“We owe England to him,” Hal says, raising a glass. Silver chalices glimmer in the candlelight as the room raises their arms to Carter. “Amen,” Hal says before taking a sip of wine. The rest of the room follows suit.

He sits down then, prompting the musicians to resume their playing. As the room rises in boisterous laughter and joy, I move towards Hal’s table.

As I walk over to him, his eyes glance at me, then away. Then, at me again. I walk slowly, nervous what his impression of me now will be. He stares back at me with a stunned expression on his face, then stands, moving around the table towards me.

“(Y/N)?” he asks. I look up at him shyly, unsure how to act. He steps back, bowing before me, asking for my hand. “My Lady, will you honor me with a dance?”

I accept, taking his hand in mine, letting him bring me to the floor to dance by his side. “(Y/N)…”

“I know… I look ridiculous,” I say. He stops his movements, staring down at me with his impossibly blue eyes. “You are the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen.” My heart swells and I know my face must be red as a tomato. He places his hand on the small of my back and leads me around the room. Beside him, I am lost. Totally captivated by every sense of mine that can experience him. And the music becomes like a thread that sews us together with every step.

“What will people say?” the part of me that can still care about appearances asks. His gaze on me is hypnotic and I can hardly break away to see for myself.

His face comes nearer to me, and he leans to speak into my ear “That the King has found his Queen.”

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston #King Henry V #henry v imagine #the hollow crown #prince hal

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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Listen, I will NEVER be over Tom Hiddleston. That’s that.

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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Confessions - Professor Hiddleston Fic (One Shot)

Hey everyone! This is a one shot because I saw an amazing Professor Hiddleston fic on tiktok by @plushkittn and had to make something. I hope you enjoy a bit of something different from our regularly scheduled fic hehe.

Synopsis: (Y/N) bombed her presentation. Her stupid ass boyfriend has been destroying her sense of self-worth and catapulting her into spells of major anxiety. Her favorite Professor runs into her as she’s trying to compose herself, and confessions are made by both.

TW: Fluff!, anxiety, stupid boyfriends, Professor/Student relationship. A gentle, calming fic.

What the hell just happened?

You held back your tears as hard as you could before excusing yourself at the end of your presentation and rushing out the door.

What the hell was that!

You were so good at giving presentations! You were totally prepared too. You’d made your slideshow perfect, even used memes to insert some humor into the project that you knew your classmates would enjoy.

So why did you literally have a panic attack the second it started?

It was his fault. Your stupid whatever he was… boyfriend? It seemed a joke to call him that now. He only seemed to want you when it was convenient for him. And yet here you were, gladly running at his every beck and call because of what? Some stupid desire to be wanted?

You walk down the corridor to the lobby, hurriedly crossing to the girls restroom when you suddenly bumped into someone.

“Oh.. sorry—“ your breath hitches. When you look up, you’re met with the comforting blue eyes of your favorite professor.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” He asks, placing a hand on your upper arm in support. You nod and smile, “Um, no… not really but it’ll be okay,” you assure him, moving to walk to the restroom.

God dammit as if you weren’t already embarrassed enough.

But he places another hand around your arm and moves in front of you. His expression is full with worry and something you couldn’t quite decipher… maybe just your imagination… your mind was feeling pretty scrambled.

“Are you sure?” He asks again. His voice is warm and comforting… and something about it strikes you just the right way. Suddenly you can’t hold back the ragged sob you’d been holding down from the moment you faced the class to present.

You feel the dam of your heart break and look up at him, shaking your head. “I am so alone,” you admit over tears. His gaze on you is so direct and full with worry that you suddenly feel yourself blush. You quickly cover your face with your hands, hiding behind your hair as much as you can.

“Hey, it’s okay, come now,” you feel yourself being pressed into Professor Hiddleston’s side, and allow him to lead you forward.

“I’m here for you, (Y/N),” he assures you. You follow him over towards the elevators, trying to hold back sobs yet failing miserably.

“It’s okay, (Y/N), you can let it out,” he says, rubbing your shoulder assuringly. Hearing him say that is almost enough to totally let go, but you refuse to let yourself completely break down in front of him.

As the elevator doors close, you hear him sigh. You take a peek up at him and notice his jaw tensing… he looks enraptured in thought. You can hardly think about how you must be disrupting his day… right now things are just too fragile in the world around you and… you needed him.

The elevator doors open and you allow Professor Hiddleston to lead you toward his office. The familiar scent of him envelops you as you cross the threshold into his room. Something about the warm brown tones of wood and leather make the world feel safer. He leads you towards a very comfortable couch, where a window overlooks the school grounds against raindrops that trickle down the glass.

“Would you like some tea?” He asks after helping you sit down. “Oh, no thank you,” you say. His eyes are so blue in the gloomy light, you find yourself holding onto his gaze longer than you should. You hear him chuckle softly, “I’ll make some anyway… you must never underestimate the soothing power of chamomile and ginger,” he says standing.

You watch him stand then turn your gaze to stare out the window, happy to be transported to this little nook of warmth for the moment. “Would you like to talk about what happened?” he asks as he turns his electric kettle on. He walks back over to you, taking a seat beside you on the couch. He offers you a blanket which you gladly accept. You curl your legs underneath yourself and try to fix your hair before turning to speak to him again.

“I… I started panicking as I was giving my presentation. I’ve never felt panic in a situation like that before.” You admit to him. He stays silent, allowing you to continue.

“I just feel like... I’ve been put on hold…” you say, fiddling with a loose thread in the blanket over you.

“How do you mean?” He asks, offering you the time you need to find the words.

“My… well, I don’t know what to call him…”

“Your boyfriend,” he says with distaste. You look up at him and see his jaw tense again.

“I’m not even sure that’s what he is…” you say to him. He looks back at you, his gaze pointed and direct. “He’s an ass,” he says.

You search his eyes, half wanting to hear more, half afraid to hear it.

“(Y/N), you make witchcraft with your words,” he says. “The unspoken world you are able to put down on paper is… it’s breathtaking.”

You feel yourself blush and pull your legs closer to you. “Th… thank you,” you mumble, keeping your gaze down.

“I’ve seen you with him,” he says. Your eyes flicker up to his face in surprise, but he continues, staring out the window. “There was a day I saw you two walking… I knew you wanted to hold his hand,” he says, raising his own hand to adjust his glasses, “the way he disregarded you maddened me.”

You feel your heart quickening, you had no idea what to say. Maddened him?

It was true that there was always a certain chemistry between you and Professor Hiddleston. You tried to downplay it when you felt it… thinking it was merely a chemistry between writers. He was your Professor after all. He saw the most intimate thoughts you had… but a part of you may have taken advantage of that. There wasn’t anyone else for you to talk to. You found it hard to make friends… and your boyfriend and his friends weren’t exactly confidants to you. Your mom and dad didn’t really talk to you much… they weren’t happy with your change of major. You’d been accepted to the university for a business degree, but after taking a course in creative writing with Professor Hiddleston… you felt a spark that you could not ignore. You’d found your passion… and someone who saw it in you.

The situation you were in now didn’t necessarily feel awkward… as you’d formed a relationship with Professor Hiddleston since your first year. He was someone you felt safe with. He was really the only thing you had in the sense of an anchor in this world. And maybe… maybe throughout all these years… all the papers and stories you wrote were sort of… for him.

You remembered back on an assignment in which you had to re-write a fairytale based on your life experiences. You’d decided to write yours on Snow White. Instead of seven dwarves, seven friends used you as their emotional sponge. Instead of a wicked witch, a warlock brought an enchanted apple that promised to grant Snow White what she wanted most; to be seen. There was a note on the day he returned our papers. You still have it taped on my dorm mirror.

“Who do you want to be, (Y/N)?”

You look up, brought back from your thoughts into the room again.

“Have you found an answer yet?” he asks.

You smile, shaking your head. “I think I’m even farther from finding it than I was two years ago.”

The kettle clicks and the water boils rapidly. He stands, moving to prepare two cups of tea before sitting back down.

“Allow me?” he asks, prepared to add sugar to your cup. You nod, thanking him with a smile.

“I think you’re running from your truth, (Y/N),” he says outright. You stare at him, watching him prepare your tea with calm and ease.

“How?” you ask him. He hands you a cup, warning you it’s hot.

“By trying to be the very thing you aren’t in your writing: simple,” he says.

“I... I’ve never thought I was a very complicated person...” you say, unsure how to respond to his comment. You’d always considered yourself a simple person... hell, you’d settled for nearly everything in your life aside from your change of degree. Complicated was never a word you’d heard used to describe you.

“No, you’re not complicated, you’re complex.” He places his tea down and turns his body towards you. “That’s what I see.”

“What do you see?” you ask.

His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You hold your breath, feeling dry tears tighten at your cheeks as you stare up at him. He leans forward, and suddenly the world is spinning around you. Your head is bobbing on a spring and your heart is pounding out of your chest.

“I see you, (Y/N),” he whispers, his eyes on yours, then your lips. Without a thought, you lean in to kiss him, feeling so much… feeling everything. It was the first kiss, the first real kiss... for someone you truly wanted to kiss. And the difference was everything. You let him pull you closer, and allowed yourself to crawl into his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist and you couldn’t help the surprised tears that fell from your eyes as you pulled away to look at him.

“Is this alright?” He asks. You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him close. “Yes, yes it is.”

His scent, mint and wool, is so comforting. So warm. You cuddle into his chest, letting him run his fingers through your hair. The sound of the rain pattering against the window and his slowing heavy breaths is all there is.

“What if I told you this is what I wanted to be…” you tell him softly. Immediately your heart flips… too late to take it back now. He reaches his fingers underneath your chin, tilting your gaze up to his.

“And what would that be?” He speaks in that deep elegant voice of his. You are all too aware of his hands everywhere now… his hand around your waist, the one underneath your chin. How many times had you dreamt of this moment? If you could lean into him forever you would.

With a breath, you say what you’ve wanted to say for the past year. “Yours.”

He leans down to kiss you. It’s soft and slow… and there are a dozen stars behind your eyelids as you become hyper aware of everything about him touching every inch of you.

He pulls away to press his forehead against yours, “then I would say you wouldn’t need an apple to make that wish come true.”

You take his hand in yours, fiddling with his fingers, tracing his nails and knuckles with the tip of your thumb.

“(Y/N), if you knew how deeply I’ve fallen for you in the past few years you’ve been in my class… I never imagined in my first year as a Professor I would meet someone like you. Someone I’ve been searching for my whole life.”

You look up at him, tears filling your eyes. “Don’t cry now, darling,” he says, brushing a finger underneath your eye.

“They’re happy tears,” you say with a soft smile. “My wish came true.”

He smiles and places a hand on your cheek, leaning in close, his lips inches away from yours.

“Then allow me give the Princess her true loves kiss.”

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston #professor hiddleston #one shot

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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The King & I (Pt. 11)

Hello all! I had minor surgery last week so that’s why this chapter is coming to you a bit late. It’s a bit longer than usual though! I hope you enjoy it ❤️

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TW: Descriptions of physical intimacy (but nothing raunchy)

CHAPTER 11: WAIT FOR ME

“My darling! Look what I’ve saved for dessert,” mummy sang as she stepped out in her most beautiful cream colored robe. I jumped on the warm creaky bed happily, knowing exactly what was in store for me, as I’d seen Monsieur Gerard leave when I was staring out the attic window.

“Blackberry tart!” I squealed happily, watching as she prepared the dessert on one of the nice china plates she reserved only for customers… and for special occasions— or blackberry tarts, since they were so rare to see these days.

As she sat by her vanity, a knock sounded on the door and Madame B’s head poked in. “I’ve been told to leave this here for you.” A small envelope was then left on a stand by the doorway before she left again.

Mummy stared back at the envelope, but waved me over to sit with her. Together we shared the deliciously rich and sweet tart the way we’d always done, but there was a sadness on mummy’s face this time.

She stood herself up and walked to open the small envelope. I watched silent tears stream down her cheeks as she began to read it and then quickly ran over to her, hugging her tightly.

“What’s wrong mumma?” I asked her, scared that something sad had happened.

“I fear I’ve let someone break my heart.”

I’d learned through my mother where this road ends. And no matter how much I wanted to say yes to him, I felt in some part of my soul that there was respect for myself yet.

“Does it not mean anything… the time we’ve spent together?” Hal asks, his voice heavy. I shake my head.

“Hal, time has no place at the table of the King,” I tell him.

He is quiet then, and I wonder if he’ll try to argue against my words. But I feel there is an unspoken acceptance towards them.

“When will you leave?” I turn to ask him, feeling the cool breeze of the lake whip against my neck.

“We’re to gather our army by the end of the week…” he says. I make a mental note of it… seven days.

A part of me wants to cry at the unfairness, another wants to laugh, because this had been ridiculous and blasphemous from the start.

“I wish I’d known you longer,” I tell him, feeling the weight of my sadness, my love… dripping from the words as they escape my heart’s mind.

I feel him come nearer to me, his hands reaching out towards my own. I let him take them, feeling the cool roughness of his skin against mine. I wondered if he noticed how rough my own were.

“You’ve never mentioned the feel of my hands,” I say then, feeling free to let the wind and clouds carry my admissions away, seeing as there was no need to hide them now. His thumbs graze over my fingers, then turn my palms up towards the sky. His long index finger traces the lines on my palms, the scars in between.

“Perhaps it’s because they always felt like my own,” he says. I look at him, searching his eyes for more. “I feel we’re made of the same cloth,” he says, interlacing his fingers between mine and pulling me close to his chest. I let my head rest against him, and we stay there for a moment. The steady rise and fall of his chest underneath my ear is comforting against the loud, hurried beating of his heart.

“May I ask you something?” Hal says then. He takes a step back, releasing my hands.

“Will you trust me?” He asks. I nod, noting the way his hair whips around in the cool wind. It’s comforting to see him like this.. somewhat disheveled. Not a King, and not quite Hal as before… now it’s but a man who stands before me.

He stares at me for a long moment before he begins fiddling with his hands. I watch him remove a heavy silver ring from his smallest finger. I try not to gasp as I watch him kneel before me. His hand outstretched towards me with the ring lying in his palm.

“I’m not selfish enough to ask you to marry me, though I wish I were,” he says. “I’d rather ask you to wait for me. Wait till I find a way to make you my wife.”

I stare at him in shock. “Are you proposing to propose?” I ask him. A smile lifts on the corners of his mouth.

“I suppose I am,” he says.

Every part of me wanted to wrap myself around him, squeal with joy and kiss him… but that part of me that knew better held her back.

“And how do you expect to fulfill such a promise?” I ask him. His eyes soften as he stares up at me.

“Love conquers all, does it not?” his smooth voice floats through me and into my heart.

“If that were so… many things would not be as they are,” I say. The grass beneath him rustles as he rises back to his feet. He takes a step towards me and places the ring in my hand.

“You are the reason I want to make England better… you are England to me,” he says. My throat tightens and I stare up at him, feeling tears prick my eyes.

His hand wrapped around my fingers, securing the ring in my palm. I peered into his eyes once more, trying to prove this wasn’t a dream… yet every time we came this close, I was certain it was.

“I will wait for you,” I say.

———————-

HALS POV

She’d agreed. That’s the best I could hope for right now. But I would have to do more to make this work… for England to prevail, there would have to be a union with France, it was inevitable. And Catherine, though a perfect solution to this problem… could not replace the role (Y/N) had within my heart and mind. No one could replicate the unruly passion (Y/N) lit within me. She was like a bramble bush full of the sweetest berries. Like the sun reflecting diamonds against the rough sea. She was beauty and fire, and I would gladly burn to keep her by my side.

“What the hell are you going on about?” Connelly asks from behind me as I march down the hall. I’d told him my intention to marry (Y/N), and to solve our war with France by other means.

“There is no other way!” he booms, his footsteps growing heavier and faster till he has rounded before me, stopping me in my tracks.

“I disagree,” I state simply, moving to continue on my path, but his grip is quickly on my arm, stopping me. “Hal, do not put your cock before your country.”

“Isn’t that precisely what I’m expected to do anyway?” I say to him, “Marry Catherine, produce an heir with French blood… hell, that is my duty is it not?”

“Your duty is to do what is best for England!” He spits.

“Was it not King Athelstan who was born from love? When King Edward the Elder was forced to marry a woman that was to bring territory, wealth and power—“

“You compare yourself to the great King Edward?” Connelly laughs.

“I compare myself to the will of God in those before me. The will of God is for me to rule this church, as it was for King Edward to fall in love with Ecgwynn, to produce the first true heir to the throne of England. She who was but a consort to him, she who was but a commoner in the eyes of the court- the Witan—“

“But your (Y/N) is no commoner, she is the daughter of a whore.” Connelly cuts.

Anger runs wild through me and I slap him.

“Don’t you ever speak of her that way again!” I threaten him, not caring who hears me now.

“You spoiled shit,” Connelly spits at my feet. I grab his collar, pulling him close to me.

“Out of the respect I have for you, in all the years you’ve cared for me— the relationship you had with my father… I will not punish you for your words today,” I tell him before walking away.

If I had to make enemies for her, I would. If I had to kill for her, I would. If I had to lie…

I would.

I march into the state room, shooing away the guards and servants lingering in the corners. I needed time to think.

“It’s a dangerous game you’re playing boy,” Dougal had said to me one night at the bar. I’d come to watch (Y/N) as an observer, hiding myself behind cloaks and a dirtied face. I had a horrible curiosity to know how her movements, her voice… everything might be different when she wasn’t with me, the King. I couldn’t help it… she captivated me.

“What game?” I asked him, taking a sip of the ale he’d placed before me. I only heard him chuckle and turned to gauge him. He simply raised a brow at me and turned his attention back to the floor.

Of course I knew what he meant. “It is a dangerous game. But everything is now.”

“Sir, are we to have a meeting?” General Wilmington’s familiar gravely voice called from behind me. I turned to him, marching down the steps of the throne altar to ask him plainly.

“Can we win?”

In his eyes a gust of hope and fear flickers. “It is not the first time England has been outnumbered,” he says. I nod, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Then we shall win back our territory- England’s territory, by the sweat and blood of our men.”

———————————————

“I’m not selfish enough to ask you to marry me, though I wish I were,” his voice rings in my mind as I twist the metal ring in between my fingers. Damn him, for leaving me with such promises to repeat to myself over and over again in my mind. It’d only been two days since I’d seen him, yet the feeling of Hal… the way he thought of me… it was fresh as the moment he spoke the words.

I hated myself for agreeing… I hated myself for believing in this little game. In the end I’m really the only one to blame. I let Hal do something to me… change something in me. I let him get into a place in my mind that had been left untouched, unnoticed even to myself. Still… I knew what my mother had gone through, I’d seen it and felt it by her side.

How desperately I wish I could speak to my mother now.

“(Y/N)?” Carter calls me from my thoughts. I close my fingers around the ring quickly, tucking it into the pocket of my skirt.

“Yes? Sorry, what is it?” I ask him, standing to take on whatever task was needed. He puts his hand up, signaling me to stay. His face is fallen, cold… it instantly strikes fear through to my heart. “Carter, what’s wrong?”

He pulls a small paper out from his back pocket, extending his arm slowly towards me. “It… we… we’re called to arms,” he says. My body reacts before my mind can and I quickly grab the paper in my hands.

“All males aged 13 and up, able to serve…” I read off the sheet. I feel my breath begin to deepen. I fold the page, not wanting to look at the deep black ink permanently etched onto the face of this sheet that bore the royal seal.

“I.. I will find a way to get you out of this—“

“No. No, (Y/N), this is my duty,” Carter states, his voice steady and firm. I search his expression, half hoping to catch just a flicker of fear to latch on to. But there was none. There was shock… but fear was not on young Carter’s face. It never had been.

“I can do this, for us… for… for you,” he says, his eyes on the ground. I walk towards him and envelop him into a tight hug.

“You won’t do this for me, I forbid that,” I tell him. “But—“

I shush him, pressing him tighter against me.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” Carter asks. And I realize I am crying, my breath shaky as I hold him close to me, as though he were the only thing keeping my heart from falling onto the floor. I couldn’t tell how I had ended up in this position.

“Don’t fight for me… I am not worth that,” I tell him, “fight for yourself, for our family here…” I tell him. His hands pull my shoulders back and I can’t look anywhere but at him.

“(Y/N)… none of us are worth a soul without you. You saved all of us,” he says. I make to protest but he stops me, shaking his head.

“You are our greatest protector… you… you are the England I will fight for.”

I can barely hold my sobs back. I take him into my arms again, and hold him tightly. Carter lets me stand there for a long time. Perhaps we both needed time to hold someone we loved. Someone who felt like family. For him to know that there was a home for him to return to… and for me to know there was someone to return to make this a home. Because after everything, this little shack made of splintered wood was our home, we had made it so.

“We are to report the day after tomorrow,” he mumbles against my shoulder. I nod, taking a breath, hoping something in the air will fill me with some sort of strength or wisdom. But all there is, is a love for this boy, this young boy who came to me one day, face covered in dirt, a gash on his forehead from a cook who had found him sneaking strips of ham from a windowsill and thrown a pan at him. I knew that boy would win whatever battle he was brought up against.

“(Y/N), Hal is at the door!” Evelyn yelps, running through the dining room before opening the front door and bolting down the alley to greet him. My chest tightens at the sound of his voice greeting Evelyn’s own happy “hello’s,” and I watch the sunlight against the floorboards, waiting to see his shadow close in to the front door.

I stand as I hear his boots against the wood, shoving the ring back into my pocket. I can’t remember the normal rhythm of breathing and have to tell myself how “breathe in, breath out..”

Everything seems so close and real all at once. Hal enters the room, a brown cloak over his shoulders, covering the rich red leather of his coat underneath. Evelyn dangles behind him, happily holding his hand in her own, and Carter approaches him with an outstretched hand to shake.

“How are you, Lord Hal?” Carter asks, tucking the paper into his coat pocket. I know Hal notices this, and his eyes glance towards me before he answers. “I am well Young Carter, you’ve seen the order?”

Carter nods and runs a hand against his neck, “I’ve just told (Y/N) about it as well… I suppose you’ve come to bid farewell,” he says. I stare at Hal, hoping he’s not, knowing he is. Hal nods and places a hand on Carter’s shoulder.

“Would you two mind giving us a moment?” Hal asks Evelyn. Carter takes Evelyn’s other hand and challenges her to find four leaf clovers in the alley courtyard with him, as a token of good luck for him to bring along.

As they run off, the soft noise of wind and distant pedestrian movement sounds against the hollow walls of the house. Hal’s footsteps are sharp as he comes near me. But the silence falls heavy between us. My chest is tight and my head feels too light… and the sensation of Hal’s shadow over me against the bright afternoon sun is completely consuming.

“Would you like to join me for a ride?” I hear him ask. I stare up at him, and he looks like a King. The sun outlines the soft honey curls around his head… and all I want to do is follow him to wherever that light leads us. I nod, accepting his outstretched hand… the roughness of his fingers is the most comfortable sensation I can imagine.

—————————

Hal sits beside me on the familiar twisted tree root. I want to lean into him and stay there forever.

“Will you come back?” I ask him. His arm wraps around my waist.

“Of course I will,” he says into my hair, placing a kiss onto my head.

“I mean… to me,” I mumble, half afraid to say it.

Hal pulls back, turning towards me. He stares down at me with his impossibly blue eyes, his brows raising in that way that simply pierces through me.

“Darling, I promise, with all my heart, I will come back to you,” his voice is low and soft, and his fingers stroke the side of my face gently, making goosebumps rise on my skin. Tears well in my eyes and I lean forward, burying my face in his chest. His hands wrap around me, holding me close and tight.

“What do I do until then?” I ask him between shallow breaths, trying to stop myself from crying yet only managing to make my entire body shake with repressed sobs.

“Just try not to get into trouble,” he says, holding me close. I try to memorize the way the leather on his chest feels warm against my cheek. How the sun warms my back and the cool breeze sends a chill down my neck. How his hands hold my waist… how his chin rests atop my head.

“Hal…” I push away from him. He looks down at me, his eyes careful and sweet. I can’t help myself and press my lips against his. Before he can move, I stand up, moving to stand in between his legs. I place my hands on either side of his face and kiss him again and again. His hands wrap around my waist, then slide up my back.. and I can’t ignore the tingling feeling inside my stomach that wants for more. But before I can make another move, Hal stands, parting our lips for a moment. Our breaths are ragged as he reaches down, grabbing my thigh and raising it up to his waist. I wrap my arms and other leg around him instinctively and let him turn us so that I am sitting on the tree now. He kisses my neck, my jaw… his hands run against my shoulders, and then my collar bone.

“Hal…” I manage to speak against heavy breaths. He stops, pulling away to look at me, but I reach out for him to come closer. He stands, staring above me, holding me in his arms, my legs parted on either side of his waist.

“If I do this… you’re mine,” he says. I don’t know why the words stir the feelings they do inside me. His face, so masculine and handsome… his eyes, so sharp and full of desire… they all combine to drive me absolutely mad. I nod, reaching for him, pulling him by the taught leather of his coat. And then he is all over me.

His hands reach down, pulling my skirts over my knees, and he opens his pants just enough. I can’t bare to look at it, so I keep my eyes on him. I don’t know what to expect… yet I know everything I should expect. I wasn’t in the room when my mother performed… but a few of the other girls would enact their services on any surface available. It was hard not to see it happen. I felt Hal against me and gasped, feeling my stomach tighten and my eyes squeeze shut. I gripped his shoulders and pressed myself closer to him.

“It’s alright (Y/N), breathe,” his low eloquent voice spoke above me. I look back up at him, nodding, keeping my hands tight around his shoulders. He stares down at me, then leans in to press a kiss to my lips. The feel of his warm lips on mine against the cool breeze around us sends a flutter down my chest, and suddenly I feel him inside me. I gasp, squeaking, half in shock, half in pain, but I take breaths, feeling his lips kissing my jaw and neck… I try to focus on that feeling. His hands come down to my thighs, massaging them gently, relaxing me… and then an incredible sensation takes over me. As he moves in and out, I feel like screaming, but Hal’s kisses stop me. It’s the most delicious sensation I can imagine.

He holds onto me, and I onto him. The breeze blows against us and the sun shines down warmly against my face and hands. I can smell the wine and stone on Hal… the sweat and honey… and as his hands come up to my shoulders, lowering my sleeves so as to reveal a new surface for him to kiss… I can think of nothing but how much I love him. Tears leave my eyes, and I take his lips in mine. Moving with his rhythm… feeling his hands around me and my own as they linger and unbutton the top of his coat, revealing his collar bone to me so that I may place as many kisses as I can onto him… hoping I can somehow brand him with my love… for him to carry it with him to battle. I suck gently on his skin and pull away, seeing the small red circle left on his skin. I smile and wrap myself around him, letting him take us into total ecstasy.

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston #Henry V #henry v imagine #prince hal #the hollow crown #the king and i imagine

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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The King & I (Pt 10)

Hello everyone! Im SO SORRY I’ve gone so long without a post. My hard drive failed on me and I had to get my computer taken in to recover my data 😭 Pro Tip: GET A RELIABLE EXTERNAL DRIVE. It will save you in the future 😭

But guess what? THE FIC WAS SAVED!!! I was so worried I’d lost all my work 😭 I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and bear with me for the next updates as I’m a tad behind since I haven’t gotten to work on the story in a bit.

Thank you so much once again for reading!

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CHAPTER 10: IM NOT THE ONE

It had been weeks since I’d seen him. There were rumors that the King had fled to France, having been taunted by the French Dauphin with a gift of tennis balls. Mrs. Quickly explained to me the dealings of Kings… how the Prince’s- now King’s reputation had preceded him long before his acquisition of the throne. “He was a regular at the tavern… as well as…” her eyes shifted to the second floor, where a different line of work was performed for tavern guests.

I nodded curtly, hoping she wouldn’t continue. I was no one to judge him, but I didn’t particularly need to hear more than that. Still… for someone to insult him in such a manner was somewhat surprising. I wonder how many women he’s been with. I curse my subconscious for butting in yet again.

Regardless of his absence, the wages kept coming in. I don’t know how he’d arranged it, but it seemed strange to me to go so long without a word from him yet. I only had the drunken gossip of tavern goers to base myself off any news of Hal’s whereabouts. And it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant to bear…

“The blasted King’s gotten us all entwined with his cock,” a heavily bearded patron yells across the bar. “Not I, but I so suppose you’re pretty enough to weasel your way in there,” another retorts, causing the bar to erupt with laughter. “Shut up you drunk bastard!” the bearded man yells, throwing a swing at him and falling flat on his face, causing another wave of laughter and hollering to sound throughout the bar.

“He’ll have us all in a row soon enough, taking the Frog King’s daughter in front,” someone yells. I wince at the vulgarity of their speech. Having grown up in a brothel certainly didn’t make the disgusting words of men any easier to stomach.

But what did catch me was the part about Dauphin’s daughter. I walk back to the bar, filling pitchers up with ale as Mrs. Quickly wipes down the countertop.

“Mrs. Quickly… who is the Frog King?” I ask her. She huffs, working at a stubborn spot on the countertop as she answers. “The King of France. The addition of the ‘frog’ is on account of their ideas of… delicacy” she says. I finish filling the last pitcher slowly, “And his daughter… would be a match for the King?” I ask. She stops then and turns to me, her cheeks flushed and her eyes somewhat strained. The work of the tavern throughout these years well painted on her face.

“Those are the dealings of Kings, my dear… I can’t rightly say. But it’s not uncommon for a princess to be exchanged in these negotiations between nations.” She says. I feel my throat tighten and hold the table for balance. Not because I feel physically swayed, but my heart and mind… I feel as though they could reel off any second.

“Don’t worry (Y/N), I’m sure you’ll be his favored mistress,” Ned hollers across the tavern. The room bursts out in laughter and drinks are clinked together.

I can hardly fathom the thought at his exclamation and feel my stomach begin to turn.

“You’ll shut your blasted mouth!” Mrs. Quickly yells back, placing a hand on my back as I lean down to hide behind the bar.

“It’s best not to let their words settle in your mind dear,” Mrs. Quickly says. She helps me back up the reaches around my neck to remove my apron.

“What are you doing?” I ask her. “Take your leave , I fear their discourse will only grow more unsavory by the minute.”

I stop her and pull the apron back on. “No, I wish to stay. If I leave I’ll only linger about to hear more…” I admit. She smiles at me nodding. I take a rag and move to begin bussing the tables around the bar.

“You’ve seen it, (Y/N), is his cock well enough to catch a Princess?” Hubert calls from behind me. I feel heat rise up to my cheeks but refuse to turn or allow my voice to give my worry away. “I’ve not seen it,” I say.

“How now? You’ve been his for this long without feeling his cock?” He presses on. I turn quickly and slam a pitcher onto the table.

“You dare disrespect his Majesty with such talk?” I spit. Hubert’s face goes from surprise to a false air of confidence I can only pinpoint too well after witnessing his various outbursts and fights with nearly every patron in the bar.

“You’re nothing but his whore,” he slurs. I slap him, watching him fall backwards on his drunken arse. I grab the tin tray and raise it above my head.

“If any of you say one more thing about the King, I’ll—“

Someone’s hand wraps around my waist then, pulling me backward. I stumble angrily but am quickly stunned by the sight of Hal before me. A silence befalls the noisy lot and we are all left to stare in awe at Hal’s timing.

“While I don’t doubt (Y/N)’s ability to knock each and every one of you on your arse’s, I’d rather not see my soldiers fall before they’ve seen France.”

My heart leaps as I take him in and I want to lunge and wrap my arms around him— but I stop myself. Hal hasn’t looked at me yet, and I see his concern is placed on the group before me. I can recognize a King making a point. Hubert stands, ever the embarrassment to himself. He crosses an arm across his chest, his hand over his heart while bowing before Hal apologetically. Whether Hal accepted the apology or not was unclear, for he simply turned away, placing a hand on the small of my back and leading us outside.

“H..Hal? Where are we—“

“Don’t say anything just yet, there are too many people watching.” He says curtly. I press my lips tight and allow him to help me onto Perseus. The familiar scent of him… honeyed wine, sweat and dirt is all but suffocating me. It takes everything in me not to kiss him as I stare down at him from upon Perseus’ back. I wait for him to hop on with me, but he does not. Instead he places a hood over his head and walks beside me, leading the steed out towards the grasslands.

He is quiet, and it’s nearly unbearable to not hear any words fall from his lips. Not to mention my fear of riding and the urge to screech every time I peak at the distance I am to the ground. Is he excited to see me? My heart clenches… perhaps he was angry with me for causing a scene at the tavern. I shake the thought away. Whatever it is, he’ll tell me. In the meantime, I shift uncomfortably at the stares I receive while atop Perseus’ back. I hide myself behind my hair, hoping no one will recognize me.

“Who are you to be recognized?” My subconscious jeers at me. I can’t help but let her voice ring through my mind.

As we reach the clearing, I peer uneasily over at Hal, waiting for the approval to speak.

“May I at least get down now?” I unintentionally snap at him. I truly hated being on the horse’s back.

Hal stopped then, reaching over to me, placing his hands around my waist before setting me down on the ground before him. I gazed up at him, his presence looming underneath the heavy wooden cloak that draped over his head.

“Where were you?” I hear myself ask before I’d even thought to. The desperation in my voice embarrasses me, but I’m also frustrated and… lonely. He’d been gone for nearly three weeks.

“France,” he answers plainly. I wait for him to continue but hear nothing more.

“Am I to know any more?” I ask. His blue eyes are piercing in the light of the grey day. He raises his hands to remove his hood then, and I see his hair has grown somewhat longer behind his ears since I last saw him. Still, the clear sight of him made my heart swell. I silently prayed he saw a similar beauty in me…

“War is imminent,” he states. I feel my stomach turn.

“And you are to lead your army,” I say.

“Yes,” he says. His curt answers frustratingly insufficient for my racing mind.

“Oh, will you say nothing more? Perhaps why the bloody hell you left without a word for three weeks! I was scared!—“

“Scared? Of what?” His antagonizing voice struck a chill down my spine. I look staunchly back at him feeling my anger stir.

“That you—“

“I am a King, (Y/N),” he interrupts me. I take a step back from him, unfamiliar with this Hal… the King Hal. It’s uncomfortable and cold and I don’t understand what it is he has to say to me as Henry V.

“Yes, and to be married to a Princess,” I blurt angrily. I hate the way it feels to argue with this person, and I don’t want to, so I turn to make my way back to the city.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” King Henry V calls from behind me.

“Back to the place you’re sending me,” I spit at him. I turn and begin trudging through the muddy fields, mentally cursing him for bringing me out to the coldest, wettest marsh he could find. Maybe it was all part of his plan, and perhaps I would find out, because suddenly his grip was on my arm and I was turned back toward him, feeling his lips press onto mine fervently.

——————————-

HALS POV

Why couldn’t she just stay put? I chuckled to myself, knowing that wasn’t her way.

“What’s… so… funny,” she asks between heated breaths. I press my lips onto hers, taking her tongue into my mouth, her back into my hands, and her hair between my fingers. Oh god how desperately I needed her now. If I could take her here I would… if I could take her far, far away from this kingdom, I would.

“Why must you always run?” I ask her, leaning to press kisses onto her neck. Her soft gasps at my touch fill me with energy and it takes everything in me not to go farther than I should. I pull away from her, waiting for the snide remark that will quickly leave her reddened lips.

“Why must you always chase after me?”

I stare back at her, feeling my heart swell in my chest.

“Because I love you, (Y/N),” I admit simply. Her eyes widen and somehow sparkle at my words. She stares at me as though I’m a ghost, or an angel, or an apparition of some unearthly sort. I stare back at her carefully, awaiting her response.

“The King’s daughter,” she mutters, tears welling in her eyes. The sight makes my heart clench. I’d hoped to be the one to tell her about Catherine, but gossip spreads faster than fire these days.

“My marriage to Catherine will, if carried out, symbolize nothing more than a union between countries,” I assure her to the best of my sincerity.

Her shoulders fall and a tear drops from her eye. She sighs with a smile before looking back at me, “Hal.”

“Please, believe what I say,” I ask her, taking her small hands between my own. Her fingers are cold, and so I quickly remove my cloak and move to place it around her shoulders, but she stops me.

“This is pointless,” she says, half smiling. I shake my head, taking her hands in mine again.

“No, (Y/N), it’s not. This is how these things are done… I assure you… even my father had a…” I stop myself, searching for the right word.

“Mistress?” She finishes, her eyes stare at me knowingly. I nod, pleading her to understand that she would mean so much more to me than someone with whom I’d simply pass the time.

“I’m afraid I am not the woman you hope me to be, Hal,” she says, taking her hands back to her sides. “I will not be the object of your affection and that of the kingdom’s scorn.”

Frustration wells inside me. “(Y/N)—“

“I’m not a whore,” she jabs. Her fiery gaze on me causing me to stand straighter.

“Never,” I agree with ardor. I look back at her, searching her eyes for some sort of opening, something that told me she would hear my argument, my reasons… but I could see, plain as fortress, I would not be allowed inside.

#imagine tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #King Henry V #henry v imagine #prince hal #the king and i imagine #the hollow crown

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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Sorry for the confusion with the flashback near the end of Chapter 9. I fixed it!

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moonlight-escapade · 2 years

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The King & I (Pt 9)

Hi guys! I’m sorry for the delay, my computer has been acting up and I am taking it in to get checked. I may post either twice this week or a longer chapter next week. Which would you prefer? :)

In the meantime, enjoy the next chapter ❤️

Chapter 9: SCARS

“(Y/N)! Look what we brought home from the market!” Sebby calls out to me as he, Carter and a few other boys stumble into the house. I can’t help laughing at the incredible portions of bread, cheese and meat they lug into the room. Sebby holding a thick leg of ham is an image I can hardly believe I’m seeing with my own eyes.

“He insisted on carrying it,” Carter said, placing a wheel of cheese down on the table. We all gasped, realizing the weight of the cheese was almost too much for the table to bear.

“We might put it on the floor here, above the clean sheets,” I say, guiding them towards the corner of the room.

“Let’s eat!” Sebby yells, along with a few other messy haired scoundrels. Carter looks at me as though for my approval.

“Let’s!” I say merrily, laughing as the kids giggle and screech with excitement. Carter helps me cut and serve slices of ham and cheese on everyones platters, and slowly the room grows quieter and quieter with the sound of everyone savoring the delicacies before them.

“You better clean up before the rats come looking for tasty children to eat!” Joseph says to all the children who screech in response, running out the door to look for a trough of water to clean in. I smile as I watch Joseph run along with them, thanking God for the full bellies that were made tonight. Carter stays with me, always the gentleman, helping me clean and sweep the crumbs of bread and cheese on the floor.

“To think we have crumbs to clean,” Carter says with a half smile. I look at him knowingly. “It’s okay Carter, it’s real. It’s earned.” I say. Carter nods, smiling. “I’m glad it’s worked out this way (Y/N),” he says with a sincerity in his tone that pricks emotion in my chest. I walk over to him and pull him into my arms.

“You may be taller than me now but you’ll always be my little Carter,” I say, roughing his hair. He laughs, pushing my arm away before turning back to his chore.

“Will Hal be visiting us again soon?” Carter asks.

“I’m not sure… I hope he will. The next time he comes by the tavern I’ll ask him,” I say. I see him nod. “I’d love to talk to him again,” he says. I smile, feeling a warmth in my heart. I wondered if Hal could become a kind of father to them… someone the boys could look up to.

What are you thinking? A father?

I blush silently at my own thoughts.

“(Y/N)! (Y,N)!” Evelyn, a sweet girl of 10 who’d finally begun to come out of her shell around us yelled as she bounded through the door. “He’s here! The red coat man!”

I raise an eyebrow, confused at the description. As I walk over to the doorway, I look to find Hal walking down the alley towards our house with Joseph following at his side. The two are pleasantly engaged in some kind of conversation and I can’t help the way my heart leaps at the sight of it all.

“Yes, that’s Hal,” I nod down to Evelyn who takes my hand in hers as she watches the group near our home. Hal's gaze raises and his eyes soon find mine. The smile that stretches across his face slays my heart.

“What are you doing here this morning?” I ask him as he rounds the corner towards the door. “I’ve come to accompany you to the tavern,” he smiles.

“My, how punctual,” I tease, leaving the door open behind me as I turn to bring Evelyn back inside. I sit her on a stool and pour her a cup of water before turning back to face Hal. I don’t know how it’s possible, but the cool winter air wraps around us warmly, seeming to pull us together.

“Good luck today (Y/N),” Joseph smiles at me, a roll my eyes, knowing Josephs quirks well enough to hear his teasing tone. “Don’t go losing a hand, Joseph,” I say, he sticks his tongue out and waves goodbye with his handless arm.

“He lost a hand?” Hal asks, somewhat aghast. “Why are you surprised?” I ask him, raising a brow.

“I hadn’t thought… I didn’t…” he mutters. I take his hand in mine. “He’s not the only one,” I confess to him. His eyes look down on me with worry and concern, and I can’t do much in the way of comforting him really. Actually, he should know. “It almost happened to me,” I say, lifting my sleeve to reveal a scar across the top of my wrist. He instantly halts, taking my wrist in his hand, examining it.

“When?” His voice is angry.

“A year ago,” I answer, “during the fish market in fall.” He looks up at me, his eyes dark.

“Who did this?” he asks… or demands.

Something inside me twists and I pull my arm away from him. “That’s a burdensome question to answer, Hal,” I speak plainly.

“No it’s not, there someone responsible and I’ll see to it—“

“What? You’ll punish someone for following through on the law?” I state. “That’s the price for thievery Hal, everyone knows it.” His face is full of frustration as he looks down at me.

“This was my Father’s fault,” he says, shaking his head. “He knew of the suffering… I told him, I’d seen it, lived it myself.”

“You?” I ask in disbelief. He turns to me, his expression serious. “King Henry the Fourth was a fearful bastard, but my father was a tyrant.”

I stared back at him, unable to say anything in return. There was still so much to be known about Hal’s family, his life… after that day by the lake, how could I presume to know even a quarter of it?

I take his hand again and press another to his face. He looks down at me, anger still lingering in his eyes but his face softening at my touch. “You’ll tell me about it?” I ask softly. His hand comes up to press against mine, “I will,” he says.

“Besides, you took over my story,” I say with a smirk. His head cocks and I watch him search my eyes for meaning. “I didn’t tell you how I got away from the fishmonger,” I smile.

He smiles and nods, a chuckle leaving his lips. “You’re right, I cut you off in the middle of your thrilling tale,” he says as his thumb grazes over my scar.

“It was quite thrilling indeed. It turned out this fishmonger was having an affair with the wife of another fishmonger. Just as he’d caught me, his wife caught him.” I smile, raising my brows.

“How did she catch him?” Hal asks, his eyes wide.

“She’d left a scarf with her family’s plaid on it… they were Scots,” I say. Hal gasps and I can’t help but laugh.

“Hasn’t anyone told you that behind every scar there is a story?” I tease, nudging his arm with my shoulder as we continue making our way towards the tavern. He doesn’t respond, but instead nods, taking my hand in his, intertwining our fingers as we continue on.

———————-

HALS POV

I hated letting go of her hand. If I could hold it forever I would. But alas, true to her name, Mrs. Quickly took her from me, tying an apron around her small waist and pushing her onto the floor to serve the local scoundrels.

I sat at my old table in the back, accompanied by Dougal, who recounted to me the gossip heard throughout the tavern as of late.

“People are wondering Hal. They say it’s inevitable… if the King cares, they say.” Dougal takes a sip of his ale as he eyes me. The old bloke knew how to push my buttons, but I’d learned where and when to keep my mouth shut once my father’s was buried six feet below the ground.

“A King that cares is hardly a King,” I tell him. The sight of (Y/N) crossing to a busy table catches my eye and I follow her as I continue. “If that was all it took, no one would suffer.”

“Aye, but if not the King, then who?” Dougal presses, taking another swig of ale.

“That’s exactly what I asked my father,” I tell him bitterly. I take a swig of ale as I watch (Y/N) dodge grasping hands. I couldn’t tell what displeased me more, Dougal’s expectations of me, the shadow I walked in left by my father’s legacy, or the pigs that drunkely lunged at (Y/N).

“And what did he say?” Dougal asks then.

“Father, we can’t just stand by and allow this squalor be remembered as the legacy of the kingdom of England!” I yelled at the old man. He could barely stand on his own anymore, but I watched him try. I knew my word against him would move him to his feet, I hoped it would move his heart, too.

“You insolent child. How dare you speak of my legacy! You, the one who is meant to carry it out after me… you… who has done the impossible to oppose my judgments—“

“Because you don’t see England as I do!” I yell at him, feeling my throat burn with the anticipation of this moment. “I am of these people, I’ve lived in their poverty—“

“You are a Prince!” Father yelled. I nod and spit back “And a citizen of England!”

He stares at me with the same steely disappointment ever present in his grey eyes.

“You will leave, now. And such blatant disrespect for your King… well, your punishment will come soon enough,” he scoffs, waving me off.

I stood up, slamming my mug down as I stood to walk towards the men that poked and prodded (Y/N). Perhaps it was a mix of alcohol and memory that’d soured something inside me. But I knew I wanted change. Now.

“Please, stop,” (Y/N) spat at the men, swatting their hands away from her skirt as they oo-ed and aah-ed at her. I quickly lunged at the closest pig in the group, raising him up by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t you dare touch her, do you hear me?”

He was completely drunk, his face bearing a mix of humor and exhaustion, and perhaps it wasn’t fair, but what was? Were these the countrymen of the England I’d envisioned? Could I fix anything? Could I do anything to make things better for them? For (Y/N)?

“Hal,” (Y/N) calls up at me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I look back at her, then at the man before me, shoving him back into his seat.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” the man slurred behind me as I walked through the tavern. I grabbed my cloak hanging by the door, making to head out.

“Hal? Hal!” (Y/N) called. I felt her hand come around my arm as I wrapped my cloak over my shoulders.

“I have to go (Y/N),” I say, unable to look her in the eyes. It was as though a shower of shame and rage had washed over me, forcing me away from her. Forcing me to do something about everything I’d seen today. Her scar… the boy’s missing hand.

“Hold on— what happened? Is something wrong?” She says. I can hardly stand turning away from the concern in her sweet voice. Every part of me wants to wrap around her, shield her from anyone, anything.

“I’m sorry, I must go,” I tell her. Mustering my courage, I turn, leaning down to kiss her. Her lips are soft and careful against mine, and I hold myself back from hungering for more.

She stares up at me, concern and worry clear across her features. I turn to the door and make my leave, hurrying towards Perseus with every blazing step.

I wouldn’t come back until I had an answer. That was my punishment. The burden I’d carry, gifted to me by my father. There would be no more scars for her to tell stories of.

#tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston #henry v #prince hal #the hollow crown

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