The King ~ Timothée Chalamet

The calm before the storm

King~ Ch 20

They lay, the king and the unknown girl, intertwined with one another. The small room provided enough shelter from the breeze, and the heat radiating off of their bodies was enough to keep them sated. Their clothes were long forgotten, discarded.

Henry lay, looking up at the somber sky through the crumbling ceiling, his arm wrapped around Amice. The girl lay beside him, her head on his bare chest, tracing soft lines with her fingers, sparks of electricity flowing at each touch. Henry couldn't help but close his eyes peacefully, her gentle presence bringing a sense of serenity he had long forgotten over him. A content smile found its way to his lips as he embraced the feeling of her body against his. This was nothing like the nights he spent with women at brothels. This was a deep, primal need, fuelled by his souls love for the girl beside him.

"I wish we didn't have to go back." Her voice broke the walls he had begun to build, the reality of duty crashing over this minuscule moment of bliss.

"What if we didn't?" He found that the question left his lips, reminding them of the conversation they'd had the day they went for a ride.

"Perhaps one day, when the battle rages no longer..." she trailed off, lost in her own mind, biting her lip at the notion of spending the rest of her time upon this earth with the man she adored.

Henry's eyes found her lips as he watched her gently pull them between her teeth, and he reached his hand up to cup her chin and trace his thumb along her bottom lip.

"Once this is over, I am going to make you my queen." He vowed.

The promise drifted off along the wind, shattering against the sounds of the night.

"That is not what I hunger for." She said, looking into his eyes.

"Then what is it you desire?" He muttered.

"Only you. Always."

"I'm sure we can come to some agreement." He smirked, leaning in to press his lips to hers once more, before pulling her onto him so that she was straddling his lap. His hands traced gentle lines down her back before settling at her hips, moving her against him.

~

They caught their breaths as she lay across his chest once more, and he brushed a few stray strands of her hair back into place.

"Amice?" He muttered, his fingers grazing along her spine in soft motions.

"Hmm?"

"How many men have you been with?" He quizzed, the thought running through his mind ever since he had realised how he felt about the small girl in his arms.

"Oh, too many to count your majesty. I mustn't tell you out of the fear that it would damage your masculinity." She jeered, prodding him lightly in the chest. He smiled as she giggled, relishing in the moment of joy.

"How about you your grace? Any chance you have a bastard of two wandering the plains?" The sentence was mocking, but there was an emptiness to her voice.

"There were only three before you. And I was sure to keep up with them. I can assure you, I have fathered no children." He replied, noticing her tone.

"Were you not happy with them? Or was it because they were workers that you did not see fit to wed any of them?" Once more, she was quiet.

"It was because they were nothing more than an escape for me. A way to forget the horrible things happening around me."

"Is that what this is?" The words were dry in her mouth. "Am I a distraction for you?"

"What? Amice, of course not. Do not say that. Never say that." He half sat up as she looked at him, cupping her face in his hands so that she met his eyes. "You entrance me. I have never met someone so fierce and intelligent and levelheaded and beautiful. Every part of you is golden, and I think I that that is what I love most about you. You expect nothing from anyone, you are independent and sincere. I love how you put me to shame when we spar and I love how you are able to make the beasts that men are respect you. Sometimes, it find it bizarre to comprehend that you truly exist. I love you so dearly Amice, please, never degrade or forget that."

A tear fell from her eye as he held her, a flame erupting in her heart as she leant into his touch, a smile blooming on her face.

"You." She said and he cocked his head in question.

"I have been with only you." She reiterated, a blush rising in her cheeks.

Henry was momentarily astonished, but then a glorious smile appeared on his face as he drew her closer and softly kissed her. She was a dream come true, a drug to him, the perfect poison.

Man was designed for love, in that moment he realised it. He was not complete until he reached the eudaimonia that was Amice.

"We should go back. The men need to be briefed on the final attack." She whispered, but made no move to pull away from him.

His brow suddenly became laced with worry as he observed her.

"I don't want you out there." He stated.

"Out there? You mean on the field?" She was taken aback. They had come so far together and now he was pushing her from his side.

"It is too dangerous. I won't have you hurt." His tone was stern.

"That is not your choice to make." She growled, pushing off of his chest and standing to collect her clothes, tugging each garment on hastily.

"As commander of this army, and as your king, I believe it is." He retaliated, mimicking her actions.

"You cannot expect me to sit and watch from afar as our men are cut down." She stopped what she was doing, all but her shoes on as she met his stubborn expression with one of her own.

"Isn't that what you had planned to do initially, but from the banks of England?" He hissed, also stopping to face her, barely a space between them.

"How dare you!" She spat, shoving against his chest as he stumbled back a few steps.
"I told you I would fight beside our men! I will not abandon them!"

"Our men? You mean my men? You are not queen yet Amice." His words cut through the air, striking her as she glared at him, but her expression had softened to one of hurt.

"It's a good thing I don't want to be." She shoved last him, grabbing her sword and shoes as she hurried from the house.

He realised his mistake instantly. He has not intended to be so cruel, he simply wanted her to see how much he cared for her, how he wanted to protect her. He had neglected to calculate the strength of her fighting spirit.

Without a second thought he was chasing her, his arm grasping the top of hers just outside the house.

"Amice wait. I didn't mean for this-"

"Go to hell Henry! You tell me you love me yet you do not trust me enough to be by your side!"

"Don't you see Amice! It's is precisely because I love you that I don't want you there. I am a target, they will hunt for me on the field and I will not have you fall at my side!" He was hysterical, desperate for her to reconsider.

She took a breath, trying to see past the anger that blazed around her.

"You must understand Henry, I love you also, so cannot stand by, helpless, as you race into the mouth of the beast. I am the leader of your kings guard, and I swore to be your shield. I will not neglect my duty, as you shall not yours. We both have weights to carry now. Please, do not let me be crushed under mine." She was pleasing with him now, wanting him to see that together, they were stronger.

He dropped his gaze to the floor.

"You infuriate me. I often forget that you seem to be unfazed by the commands of a king." He chuckled, meeting her gaze.

"And yet, you confessed to adoring me for it." She gave an uneven grin as he let out a low laugh.

"That I did." He smiled, clutching his hands behind his back as they strolled back to camp, the final moment of calm before the storm.