Work Text:
Nothing was working, and Henry's heart was breaking even more.
One year passed since English victory at Agincourt, one year since the Troyes Treaty made him the heir to the French throne, one year since his beloved friend Sir Falstaff had fought so bravely and perished for him.
He had two kingdoms under his rule - almost two, that was - the man he'd loved forever as his husband (officially recognized after much fuss), a lovely stepson. He should be glad; the King of England had everything he could ever wish for.
Of course, the grief over Falstaff's death still was fresh within his mind, but the loss of his child shortly after Agincourt wounded him even more.
Henry had been to countless masses and confessions, performed penances and truly prayed without ceasing. He'd kept perfect track of estrus and even drank herbal concoctions made by the finest physicians, but still no babe came.
Of course, it wasn't right to grieve something that had lived. He wasn't acting lustfully towards Richard either. Yet he was still young and there was no internal damage sustained from the battle with an exception of a broken rib.
Something was amiss.
He sat before the hearthfire, rosary beads clenched in his hands. He was tired. He sighed, fighting back tears that stung his eyes.
"Hal, my dear, you need to relax." Richard knelt by his feet, giving him the pleading look he'd known well. "Maybe we're trying too hard. We may need to stop for right now. It's okay, my love…"
"I-" Hal began to speak, his voice cracking. "I had hopes for that child. Sure, it was hardly much of anything, but I knew in my heart it would have been a boy. He would be the next Prince of Wales. He'd be our heir, my legacy." He collapsed against Richard as he sobbed.
"But France couldn't wait. I understand that." Richard rubbed his back, shushing him. "We have Dickie.”
Hal sniffed, straightening up and stroking Richard's cheek.
"You're right. Thank God for you, my love. But-"
"I know, I know how hopeful you were." Richard replied. "I wish I could take your pain away. I would in an instant." He took Hal's hands in his and kissed them gently.
"We may need a pact with the Devil himself at this point."
"Now, don't say that." The earl scolded.
"No, no-" Hal paused, eyes brightening in a moment of clarity. "I have an idea."
"Hmmm? What is this glorious idea, my lovely king?"
"We could go to Scotland. There are witches, so I've heard. And tell me, Richard, is it really black magic if its for the good of the kingdom?"
"You're serious?"
"Yes. We shall go tonight. It won't take us long. Mayhaps…two days total."
Richard sighed in response.
"And you said you'd do anything to take my pain away." Hal muttered, pouting.
"And I did." Another sigh. "So we shall."
-
A filthy hovel in a Scottish Highland marsh with three haggard old crones was the last place Richard wanted to be, but he stood steadfast by his beloved king, clutching his cloak tighter to his body.
"And wha micht ye twa be?" The youngest Weird Sister asked as she stared them both down.
"My dear madam, I am Harry Fitzroy." Hal answered. "And this is my husband-"
"....B-Baron Richard De Longsaucisse." Richard blurted. "Yes."
Hal glanced at him with a look of awe before shaking his head.
"Pleasure to meet you three."
"Forgive him, he's nervous. A pious man, my husband."
The eldest witch chuckled. Richard squeezed his eyes shut as the three crones looked him up and down.
"Nice piece o' meat, thon young lad." The middle sister hissed. "Whit brings ye here?"
"I'm having trouble when it comes to bearing a child. I've tried everything. My husband wishes to take my sorrow away. Do you…have anything that would help? I'm pretty desperate."
After a long silence, the three looked at each other.
"We have juist the thin ye twa neit." The youngest witch replied, a hideous grin on her ugly face.
"For what price?" Richard asked, voice quivering with fear.
"Na, na price."
Hal shrugged.
"Thank you, dear Weird Sisters."
After what seemed like forever, two small potion bottles appeared. Richard tentatively picked one up, looking it over.
"Na, thon's fa the wee ane." The eldest witch snatched it from him, giving it to Hal. "Ye drink this, braw lad."
Hal chuckled, opening up the bottle and sniffing it. Didn't smell bad.
"Ye have twa days after drinkin' for tae work."
"So within two days I should conceive." Hal whispered, eyeing his beloved. "Drink up, my dear."
"Now a wee bit o' pain is normal. Thon's hou it works, laddie."
Hal grinned, finishing it off in one gulp. Richard gave a heaving breath before doing the same.
"Best o' fortune tae ye twa."
"Thank you three once again."
They didn't notice the three grinning in unison as they left back towards England.
"Really, Richard?" Baron De Longsaucisse?" Hal hissed before giggling.
"I was scared." He mumbled. "I forgot you know French."
-
Hal felt quite tingly. It was a nice tingling. Aside from some mild cramping, he felt great.
Richard, on the other hand, was not having a great time.
"Feels as if I've pulled something in my abdomen. And I feel like I'm on fire, you know, down there. Not in the passionate way either."
"My poor Earl, your poor crotch." Hal moved to hold him, his hand slipping between his legs. "She said it was normal."
Huh. Something was…quite odd.
"My dear, could you take off your leggings, please? I do wish to see…"
Richard did as he was told, pulling them off and laying back on the bed.
"Feels like I'm being split in two."
Hal's eyes widened, full of shock and glee. He had his prick, balls, the delicate bud, but under the balls was…
"Oh my." Hal licked his lips. He felt a surge of something he never felt before cloud his brain. His cock stiffened immediately, accompanied by a new sensation right where prick met belly. "My God, Richard."
"What? What did those loonies do to me?"
Hal was silent as he gently held his husband's balls, lifting them ever so tenderly. He took his thumb and, squealing, ran it across the delta of pink flesh.
"What a pretty cunt you have, my lord."
"What the-Oh, oh…Yes, I said I would take your pain away but Christ-"
Hal wasn't listening, his mind already clouded by pheremones as he licked the opening, slick warm in his mouth, like tasting his own cunt, but even better.
"Hal, oh…Mmm…"
"Lord Cambridge?" Hal asked, sitting up and removing his own leggings. Glancing down, he saw his erect prick, but with the knot of an Alpha beginning to swell.
"Y-yes, my king?"
Hal shifted his body, aligning with his husband. He kissed him deeply and grinned, thrusting forth like a young buck.
"I'm your fucking Daddy now."
-
It felt amazing. Of course in his reckless days in Eastcheap, women rode his prick, but there was never any chance of bastards, it wasn't like that with lads like Hal. He'd been fucked by Alpha women who would be bitched by no one, but made him their bitch with their own pricks.
He'd had men inside him too, but he had never been inside a man besides Richard. He always fucked his husband good and well, but always lamented the seminal fluid going to waste in his ass. But now…
Despite his initial shock, Richard was responding enthusiastically, moaning like a common alley slut under him, hips bucking, long legs wrapped around his waist.
"Does it feel good, my love? Does my prick feel good?" Hal whispered against his lover's mouth.
"Yes, yes, so good…M-more, fuck me deeper…"
"Do you want my knot, Richard?" He asked, wrapping his hand around his cock.
"Fuck yes, god, make me your bitch, my king-"
"You're beautiful." Hal whispered, continuing to jerk his lover's cock, keeping in rhythm with his thrusts. He groaned as he felt the knot swell and heard Richard's gasps underneath him. "I love you."
He grinned, lunging further.
-
"Holy Mother. That was…" Richard gasped through his words. "Amazing."
"It was different, but I liked it. I'll probably never get the chance to do that again."
Hal snuggled against his husband, face flushed.
"This isn't what I had in mind though, but this will be a nice experience, carrying your child." Richard rolled on his side. "Some people would kill for the honor, you know."
"You're the luckiest man in the world." Hal ran his fingers through the blonde curls. "I hope this works."
"But if it doesn't, we sure had fun." He kissed Hal tenderly. "And I can still be your bitch."
"Yes." Hal laughed, throwing his arm around him.
-
The witches' tricks were, to much delight and disbelief, a success.
Hal was normal once more, and probably would stay like that forever, but Richard was - only somewhat - doomed to stay quite mixed-up until the child came.
Since it would be too much hassle for the king to fake a steadily growing belly even in a time of peace, and it wasn't fair to seclude his dear Richard in some wing of the castle, they both decided to take respite for the better part of the year at the old Conisburgh Castle in Yorkshire.
Dickie were kept in the dark on the matter concerning his father, but he was thankfully too young to understand.
Hal kept busy with correspondence regarding foreign policy and domestic matters concerning both England and France, playing with the kid, and tending to Richard.
The servants had been sworn to secrecy and given very generous bribes; money, jewels, and lands to keep their mouths shut.
Richard was needy at times, just like Hal himself had been during his first if not abruptly ended delicate condition. Of course, the rush of pheromones and rut had long since ceased due to the potion's temporary nature, but he had his mouth, fingers, knot-lacking prick.
In the drape-darkened bedchamber, they spent nights tangled together, Hal's fingers fucking the hot, slick-dripping cunt.
He felt fulfilled. He had performed his kingly duty, but like everything else he had done in his rule, on his own terms.
-
When the child came, he came fast and easily. It was a boy, the much longed-for son that Hal had mourned for nearly two years. He was beautiful with pale skin, raven hair, and dark eyes.
"He looks like you." Richard said.
"Thank God." Hal replied with a laugh, cuddling the newborn. "I love you, Lord Cambridge. I love you so much. For everything you've ever done for me."
Tears welled in his eyes as he chuckled.
"Hello there, my sweet prince."
"You're very welcome, but I will not do that again, my king. The next one is on you." Richard clicked his tongue. "It was nice, but I value my manhood."
"I value your manhood, too." Hal kissed him.
"What if we name him Henry? After you? Dickie's named after myself, so its only right I think."
"Prince Henry." Hal whispered. "Little Prince Hal." He kissed the top of the baby's head. "Prince of Wales. I'm proud of you, husband."
"I'm proud of you too, my love."
Prince Henry would be acknowledged as the king's child, borne from his loins. No one would know the truth. But despite the secrecy, sometimes in moments of lustful glances, Hal wished he had the recipes for those potions.