Hal/Huntsman - Sads [sfw] incomplete

[thorforgottoshower]

Fandom: Crosscanon - Snow White & The Huntsman/The Hollow Crown
Pairing: Halric
Category: Fic
Rating: PG-13 for now, will be NC-17 once i get around to finishing it
Warning: Sads
Summary: The relationship is discovered and Eric vanishes like Batman only to return some years later like Batman and invoke operation Prince Kidnapping.
Status: INCOMPLETE

Eric knows better than anyone that love is not a thing found easily and worst of all, it is fleeting if not tended to. Protected. He knows there’s a good chance he may be beheaded for tempting the Crown Prince into sodomy, but the Huntsman can’t find it in himself to care. He won’t surpass such a gift as Hal’s love for him merely over something so trivial as death.

They should have known what a foolish thing their tryst was, perhaps should have been more careful, but the Huntsman wouldn’t trade a single moment of it, even up to the point they were seen pressed together in the corner of a dim tavern by an off duty guard, and in the morning, dragged before Hal’s father. He’d heard plenty of stories from Hal of the man, knew how intensely he disapproved of him, and he figured he should have been intimidated in his presence, facing what would almost certainly be Eric’s execution and Hal’s disownment, possibly exile.

Still, he’d been calm, while a near tearful argument fired between father and son, because it had settled in him - this was the end of it. Their short romance was coming to a close and as much as he wanted to refuse it, fight it, kidnap Hal and ride off into the mountains to live alone with him, he knew he couldn’t, for more than just the army that would be on his heels. He couldn’t steal this life from him just for his own need.

“It’s my fault.” Exclaimed loudly over the argument between father and son. Once he’s caught their attention, he stares hard at the King, refusing to meet Hal’s eyes. “I forced him.”

“He’s lying!” Hal screeches, near on desperate, but the King’s eyes are on the Huntsman and there’s a deal being made here. A King would not want to sacrifice his only heir to the crown on a simple affair, disgraceful as it is. Politics out-weigh it and this has yet to travel outside of this throne room - still salvageable. Rid himself of the element inciting the offense and the other party could go free and unhindered with the blame placed on a corpse. Hal can see the silent negotiation going on between them and it sends him into a cold panic. “Eric, stop!”

“Execution at dawn. Take him to the dungeons.” Spoken from the King’s mouth in a detached monotone that nevertheless carried an air of complete finality. “And you.” A look towards Hal. He need not raise a hand to point. “Confined to your chambers until otherwise stated.” Until your lover is dead.

Immediately Hal was protesting, screaming at his father and guards pulled forward to restrain him as another stepped up to escort the Huntsman out. As he turned, though, he couldn’t refuse one last, stolen moment between them, reaching out to Hal to curve a hand behind his neck and pulling him, still shouting, into a kiss he put all his passion, all his love and all his longing into. He whispered harshly, hurriedly, even as court guards pulled at his arms, jerking him away. “You gave me so much better than I deserve.”

He wouldn’t turn to watch his face as he left. He didn’t want his last memory of the man to be tear stained eyes and despair.

But Eric knows the pain of living on when your beloved has passed and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone, let alone Hal. He could be a scapegoat in exile just as well as dead. So once he made it a fair distance from the throne room with the two guards accompanying him, it was easy enough to slam one into the wall and headbutt the other, as they hadn’t come across manacles yet to place on him nor had the expected much fight. After that, it’s a leap over the balcony into the courtyard and thank God for Hal’s tour the few weeks earlier of all the castle’s secret passages. Past the stables and a stolen horse later he’s on his way out of the city and out of the country, heart aching because he knows all that he’s leaving behind.

It’s good the horse knows well enough to follow a trail, because soon wetness is stinging his eyes and drenching his cheeks, and partway to the forest there’s no one here to see it. A wretched sort of sob pulls from his throat, a tortured rasp.

Perhaps in several years, a decade even, Hal might be king. Perhaps he might be able to return to him, if he still remembers the few months they spent together, if he’ll still have him, if Eric hasn’t drunk himself into a coma by then. Love twice lost and he considers for a moment that it would be better to just stay gone. He’ll be bound to a Queen and required to produce an heir. The Huntsman let out a harsh, sick kind of laugh, thinking he really ought to stop getting involved in royals. There never really is a place for him there.

Still, a few years, he promised himself, because he needed to at the time or he’d start to feel himself shatter. A few years and he’d search for word on England - what of its King and it’s dear, sweet, loving prince. Until then, he’d return to Tabor, to the Dark Forest and the Sanctuary, and when Muir asks of that kindly young man he’d brought before Eric will just give a shrug and a slow shake of his head. There’s nothing else to say.


ADDENDUM, BECAUSE THE SADS GOT TO US:

The Huntsman doesn’t last a few years. He lasts exactly two before he’s finding himself on the travel back out of Tabor to England. It’s a bad idea, it’s a bad idea, it’s a bad idea, but he’s starting to forget Hal’s face and it claws at his insides. It puts in such a foul mood that he’s all but shoved from the castle with Snow White swearing that if he returns in the same depression she shall take to drinking herself, and she is a mean, mean drunk. How he knows that he is sworn to secrecy on pain of death.

Now, stealing a prince is a risky sort of business. And that’s even assuming the prince wishes to be stolen, or even forgives him for run out previously, state of imminent execution aside. He’d have to seek out answers to these things and beyond that the actual plot had to be carefully planned out. He had even considered bringing in the dwarves, but then he remembered that he hated them and decided against it. They’d probably stick out more than anything in this kingdom dead to all things mystical and magic.

The Huntsman pitched a tent on the forest’s edge, not trusting any of the taverns inner city to be free to royal personnel. During the day he’d stay out of sight, but by evening he’d venture into the lower town, a dark hood he’d borrowed from dear William tugged over his head. His memory of the layout of the castle had grown sketchy over the last couple of years and the guard schedule even more so, yet he was able to find a nice corner he could act as a half-passed out drunk, half-beggar long enough that he noticed a shift rotation. You wouldn’t think the Huntsman would be very prone to sneaking, but one would be amazed how often it is required to avoid things in the Dark Forest, so with a dashed sprint, he’s able to skid past the gates and begin circling around the perimeter, hoping that Hal’s bedchambers hadn’t changed in the last couple of years. Second story, window facing outward toward the town.

He waited for another hour or so, watching the cast of the candle light, before a flicker of shadow would signal movement in the room. Pulling one of this smaller axes from the various holsters on his person, the Huntsman took aim at a nearby tree and fling the weapon into it with a thunk that would echo up to the window. A few hurried footsteps later and a head poked from the window - halo of blond waves gleaming golden with the backlight and Eric nearly forgot how to breathe when he saw him. So much so Hal was nearly retreating back into the room before Huntsman gathered his wits enough to let out a whistle, directing his attention downward. Still hooded and in the shadows, it was doubtful the prince could make him out, but that didn’t particularly matter. Pulling out a glass jar with a cloth tied over it, he held it aloft to indicate it before tossing it straight up, letting the prince catch it. Once grasped between his hands, Hal would find one of the unreal, shimmering emerald butterflies local only to Sanctuary gently fluttering its wings inside. Stuffed into the twine holding the cloth lid on was also a piece of parchment, and as Hal sat the jar down to unfold it, Eric felt his heart beating madly, an uncomfortable lump forming in his throat and fear creeping up to grip him tight. The parchment read simply: Stay or go?

For a long moment, Hal stared, not able to process the inquiry, not able to believe the suggestion, if it was what it appeared to be and if the dark figure below was who he thought it was. A soft, hoarse, sob of a laugh escaped from him as a hand came to his mouth. Setting the note aside, pale fingers went to pull at the twine, unwinding it from the jar, and he carefully removed the cloth before holding the jar out to set the butterfly inside free, glancing down at the man below for understanding.

Eric had to bring an arm up to cover his mouth and will himself not to attempt scaling the castle wall then and there. Instead, taking the answer, he faded slowly back into the shadows and made his way out of the castle grounds, and, after being chased around my two guards and two separate instances, eventually, out of the city.

Once back at his camp, the Huntsman sat poking at his fire for long while, hours, until it was a dim pile of embers. Well he hadn’t shouted ‘get your bastard ass out of my kingdom and never come back’ which was... something. Perhaps better than Huntsman was counting on, because he always counts on the worst. Energy still pulsed through him, making him restless, and he was still in a state of disbelief that he’d gotten the answer he had and that this ridiculous venture may even be possible.

But not through the castle. It was far too heavily guarded to get the prince out unseen. And within the city, there were royal guards at nearly every street corner, even in the lower town. As he contemplated it, it was beginning to seem near on impossible to slip the prince out with enough inattentive time to make enough headway towards Tabor.

And then a very bad idea came to Eric’s mind.

And incredibly bad idea.

But he’d need a couple weeks for it.

The next day, he’d pay off a page boy to take a note to the prince: Be in the lower town market, noon, two weeks hence. And off he rode, back to Tabor and soon after to Sanctuary. There were things he needed to collect and he was still certain this was a terrible terrible terrible idea and what loon had infected him with such madness. He could think of a couple to name off the top of his head.

As promised, two weeks hence, the Huntsman returned, with not only a dwarven set of six (bastards, bastards, bastards), but some rather large cargo. Along with a stolen horse. He’d been doing a lot of illegal things of late and he was certain Snow would be inclined to thwack him upside the head for it, but the fugitive girl who incited a riot could hardly talk. She could berate his ear off when he returned home, stolen goods in tow. So to speak.

“You know this is painfully romantic, Huntsman.” Came Beith’s voice from the donkey (yes donkey, they aren’t tall enough to ride horses) behind him.

“It’s also painfully stupid.”

A chuckle, as if he’s not even concerned about the massive thing dawdling along behind them. “Nonsense, it’ll be fine.”

“You say that as if I’m any kind of inclined to trust you.”

“And why shouldn’t you?”

“You’re a dwarf. Never trust dwarves.”

“Smart boy.”

Now, the lower town market had a very particularly advantageous positioning in regards to the outer surroundings of the city. It was settled right near the town’s wooden gates, atop which a few sentries were posted, and just outside the gates, a small field bordered by a forest - the very forest Huntsman had camped in before - very conveniently close by. This would be Important.

Inside the market, there were long aisles of stalls and shops set up, merchants all peddling wares and calling out to passers by to entreat them to make purchases, some even spread out on the sidewalk with blankets beneath their merchandise. Fairly close to the town entrance, on one such sidewalk, sat the Huntsman, in his same William-lended hooded cloak and only a single thing before him in a merchant-like fashion - an elegant sketch of the massive tree in the middle of the shallow pond that the big, white, elk thing liked to stand occasionally. It had a name, but Huntsman didn’t care to remember it. Nor was he the artist of said work. It’d come from one of the dwarves. He didn’t remember which. They were all short and annoying.

He waited for a time, and it wasn’t too long before the Prince of Wales came wandering down the street, obviously searching for something as eyes scanned the faces and tables around him, up until he came to stand just in front of the Huntsman. Eric kept his head down, slouched against the wall behind him, and watched Hal’s boots mostly. At least until the man bent, fingers running along the edge of the sketch.

“This place... I’ve seen it before.”

“Have you?” And with no attempt to hide his unique accent, Huntsman lifted his head to hold Hal’s gaze, watching recognition wash over him. For a few breathless moments, they merely watched each other.

“...Yes.”

A slow tilt of his head. “What would you give to see it again?”

“Anything.” Quickly shot out.

“Anything?”

“Everything.” There was such firmness in his voice, it would be impossible to argue, but still he pressed.

“And what of your kingdom, fair prince?”

Silence had never been more deafening and it took all the will Eric possessed to keep the creeping fear that he’d realize how completely ridiculous this entire thing is. What sane man would give up a throne to go trollop around in some fey cursed thicket with a peasant and a bunch of midgets. All this boiling inside him, he held Hal’s gaze, watching bright blue eyes he can still remember being lost him in the middle of a mud puddle, cool rain soaking them to the bone - now years ago but it could have been yesterday.

Then Hal smiled, lips he could still remember the feel of brushing against his pulling wide, and it seemed as natural as the very sunlight. “I’m certain there are plenty who would long to relieve the burden from me.”

The Huntsman could drag him forward and kiss him there in broad daylight. Instead, he pulls back his hood, beaming up at his lover. “Sold. For everything.”

But of course, there is the matter of... the plot. Huntsman actually almost appeared sheepish for a moment while the smile faded.

“I think you should know I’ve done something incredibly stupid.” The corpse of a dead deer was suddenly flung out into the street several yards away. Huntsman stared at it with pursed lips that spoke very much of his incredible wealth of regrets for this particular plan. Too late now. “You may wish to take cover, my prince.”

Hal’s mouth hung open, eyes still fixed on the dead deer nearby with a severely uncertain expression, but that, along with every other conversation, exchange and action taking place in the market was soon interrupted by an earth shaking roar.

And soon after, a bounding Dark Forest troll slamming the town’s outer wooden fence to splinter as it charged full tilt at the deer.

The wonderful thing about having Snow White as your Queen and close personal friend, as well as resident master of all things nature, was that she would occasionally dole out favors. Favors involving enchanting trolls into obediently following a group of travelers so long as they held the little bauble it became particularly attached to thanks to the Queen’s several hours of playing fetch with the creature. That bauble that was, at current, tied around the dead deer’s neck.

If dear England had been dead to all things magic and mystical before, it most certainly was not now.

After a stunned shock that held every body but the Huntsman (and a few concealed dwarves) in arrest, the city guards began scrambling wildly to hack and slash at the troll that was then whipping it’s body around savagely, deer hung from it’s mouth, and knocking over stalls, merchants and customers.

The Huntsman pulled a second black, hooded cloak from behind him and flung it up at Hal, who barely caught it. “Put it on.”

“My God...” The fabric fell from his hands as he stared wide-eyed and utterly shocked to the bones at the creature making a chaotic mess of the market.

“Now, Hal. I promise you’ll see another troll yet.” He shouted, enough to knock Hal from his stupor and into hurried pulling the handful of black fabric over himself while the Huntsman watched the sentries upon the gate - one already having fallen to the ground from the damage the troll made. Sure enough, they were rushing down to make their way towards the troll like trout trying to swim upstream through the massive throng of market goers trying to do the opposite - the throng Eric would then grab Hal by the arm and yank him towards, barely allowing him time to snatch the sketch from the sidewalk. They got lost in the crowd easily, and soon enough they’d made it past the city gates and the Huntsman was practically dragging the once-prince across the field towards the tree line.

There were the horses and Eric nearly launches himself onto his but pauses long enough to yank Hal over by the collar of his cloak, crushing their lips together in what was a sloppy and hurried but passionately overwhelmed kiss. A quick spared glance and a squeeze to his shoulder that yearned for more time at the moment and the two rushed onto their horses, off into the woods a moment later.

The dwarves would watch, giggling behind trees and stalls, for a good, long time as the troll made a mad mess of the area before shaking the second bauble they’d come prepared with, summoning the thing back almost like a mutt. And off the troll went, bounding towards the forest, and no Englishman of his right mind would follow it. But by then, the two riders would be long gone, lost in the forest and well on their way to Tabor and Sanctuary, Hal not even discovered missing yet in all the riot.




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There will be more added to this, after I've slept