𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲 // 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐕 (𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐭)

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓|𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒊 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅

a shell of the man i loved

the cold air felt like needles on my skin. we had left for the war campaign almost three days ago and we were nearing our camp. the army of England had already pillaged villages and towns of my crown.
with every small piece of news i received about the rivals, the more and more i lost sight of the Henry i had once known.
for a man so full of love could not steal the homes of innocent men and women, steal the warmth of a young babes home.
for a month the english men had been pillaging, burning, and fighting their way through my country. as we settled on camp i was informed that this was the pace of battle, Agincourt, our camp was settled along the top of the hill while the English had foolishly settled at the bottom. my brother had refused to let me travel around alone for fear of english spies. the women of the camp where cleaning the men's armour in the pouring rain as i watched from my tent. i heard news of Henry arriving in our camp to try and settle a deal of some sort prior in the day and i was just waiting to see his face once again.

the night grew closer and i saw guardsmen begin to travel to my brothers tent. i knew it was time for the King to speak to him, i rushed in and saw as the candle lit tent was full of armed men.  there sat my brother upon a wooden throne with a smile, "come to see the show?" he asked morbidly, i rolled my eyes and sat myself beside him on the smaller throne. he looked to me with raised brows, "i apologise for what you are about to hear from my mouth," he said, his tone genuine and full of truth. it was then that saw a familiar face enter, one that i was not expecting. "John Falstaff," he said entering, he bowed his head to my brother and took a seat on a small stool, my brother looked at him in disgust, "who is this man?" he said, the guards shrugged, "a friend of the kings," John said behind him entered Arthur, a sword close to his side. he looked at me in realisation, "you" he mouth to me but i just turned my attention to the incoming figure, my posture instantly shifting to perfection.

there he was, stood tall and proud.
"your majesty," my brother said looking to the boy in front of him. it was then that Henry noticed my presence, i saw his eyes grow wide and he stepped back a small amount. my brother looked at him in mild confusion, however his confusion turned into a strange laugh, he turned to me making me look at him in a strange manor, he reached behind me and took out a chalice of wine. "to your little victory," he said then taking a sip, he passed the chalice to me but i only passed it back to Leon my guard with a furrowed brow. Henry was still yet to speak, he was an observer, "you wonder why i asked for you here?" Louis asked, "do you wonder this?" he asked again. Henry's expression as flat as ever, my brother laid further back in his chair and sighed, "i have not brought you to ask for your surrender, if that is what you were hoping," he smiled. Henry's eyes were flickering between the two of us. "i have asked for you to be here, to describe to you, your end days. the screams of your men as they die slow.
so King of er England, you seem so intent on making France your new home, so let me help you. i will drain your body of it blood, and bury it, under a tree. a little, french tree, small. fitting of your mind," my brother said, i looked at him in shock only causing him to smile. Falstaff sat in the corner with a expression of tiredness on his face while Henry stood still, not a emotion on his face. Johns eyes were stuck on my face, i gave him a look to signal i was uncomfortable but he did not move.