Vine de Nada (larry stylinson au)

• Part III • Nothing

Harry had been right, mostly. Most of what he was involved in were in the public records available to Louis. Mostly. Every falling out Harry had had with a member of the royal family was right there in print. With Harry's account of events in his mind, it was clear that the events of the records had been ... twisted a fair bit.

That wasn't surprising. That was generally how public records covered any disagreement between a member of the royal family and someone beneath their station in life. The royal was never in the wrong. It was illegal to insinuate otherwise.

Even the circumstances of the rape were in the record, plain as day. Louis read over it for a second time, copying down the details and source. Lady Pierre's physical and emotional state was plain and clear. Naked, clearly evidence of a struggle. Red handprint across her face, bruising on her hips and thighs and chest.

Half dressed teenage servant found in her bed. Clearly a thorough inspection had been done of him too, and Louis grimaced to think about how that must've felt, for Harry as a child. The record noted the severe bruising on his face and ribs and throat.

Louis blew out a frustrated breath and flipped forward a few pages, pausing only when he saw Harry's name in print again. Criminal admitted to the infirmary. He paused. Harry had been vague about his time following the rape, which made sense. Harry claimed to not remember much of it, which seemed logical and seemed to line up with anybody who had witnessed the damage the boy had taken. Only now did it occur that that might also be part of a public record Harry didn't have access to.

He scanned further down. Seven days following the rape of Lady Pierre, Harry was taken to the local infirmary, suffering from an aggressive infection. The boy was delirious, semi conscious, suffering several broken ribs, a broken collar bone, and... Louis paused, frowning. "Evidence of rectum tearing," he repeated out loud. He had to physically force himself to take that down as note, swearing that it would only help them in the retrial, but his stomach was turning so forcefully he had to close the files and push himself away from his table.

He needed a break. Harry had said that he didn't remember much after the infection set it, and the record insinuated that Harry was so deep into infection that he was delirious. But the record also implied that even when Harry was healing badly from a public lashing, his guards, or Grimshaw, or someone had continued to beat him. Had possibly raped him. Even though the boy couldn't have been conscious all that much.

This wasn't an interrogation, or a punishment for defiling the lady. This was just straight forward, malicious torture. As if they hadn't cared if Harry had been conscious for it.

Louis felt his heart breaking for this vulnerable, quiet, sixteen year old child.

He needed a break. So he took the script he'd bribed out of Liam, a childhood friend interning under the local pharmacist, got a bottle of morphine filled, and found his way back to the arena. The same guard, impassive as the day before, led him through the labyrinth and into Harry's room.

Harry remained in the same level of undress as he had the day before. He remained in the same position as the day before too, but this time, he had a knee drawn up to his chest and a book balanced on it. Harry's eyes were already looking at him by the time the door closed behind him. Which meant that Harry got to watch Louis's expression change from the neutrality he had to will onto it before entering the room to something much less neutral.

There were new bruises on Harry's face. Spanning from his temple down over his cheekbone, his skin was a deep shade of pink. Louis's eyebrows drew together and furrowed as he frowned.