Chapter Text
Five
The sun cast golden hues over the land as it began to set, dipping slightly below the enormous parapets and spires of the King’s towering castle, which stood grandly in the centre of the sprawling city of Camelot. As the day’s activities began to wind to a close, merchants returned home with their unsold products, chambermaids and servants chatted aimlessly as they drifted out of the castle for their quarters, and a young, dark-haired boy played on the grounds just within the castle walls.
The boy, whose name was Louis, wasn’t using much more than a few crudely-designed sticks and twigs for his play, and he was alone; but his enthusiasm and imagination made up for those shortcomings. A flat, broad piece of wood served as his shield and a few cleverly fashioned twigs made up his sword as he slashed and parried the air, letting out small cries of victory every time he defeated an imaginary opponent.
“Take that, take that!” he muttered, his eyes glimmering in the orange light cast by the setting sun. He was no older than five or six years old, gangly and short, his head a little too big for the rest of his body. Though he was inside the castle walls, his clothes looked no better than the average commoner’s; they were made of rough material, well-worn and slightly dirty, and only collected more dust as he rolled on the ground, wrestling with the air.
“For Camelot!” Louis roared bravely before charging forward and immediately tripping over a clod of earth.
He hit the ground with an oof and his sword flew out of his hands. Groaning, Louis pulled himself up and started scanning the ground for his prized possession, rubbing his shoulder where it had made contact with the earth.
“Looking for this?” came an unexpected voice from his left.
Louis jumped and whirled around, where he saw another boy, his age, standing a few paces away and inspecting his toy sword with amusement. The newcomer had curly hair and hazelly green eyes, and his clothes were much nicer, colored with expensive dyes and obviously made with much finer materials. Unlike Louis, this was a child that seemed to belong within the walls of the castle.
Louis felt a jolt of nervousness at being caught on the castle grounds, but after quickly looking around and seeing no adults nearby to shoo him away, that emotion was quickly overtaken by the urge to retrieve his favorite sword. “That’s mine,” he said, stepping forward and holding his hand out. “Give it back, please?”
The newcomer sort of laughed, though not meanly, turning the twigs over in his hand. “Did you make this?”
“Yes,” Louis said, shifting nervously. He knew it wasn’t very good, but he was proud of it; it had taken him ages to figure out the knots that tied the twigs together in the vague form of a sword.
“I like it,” the other boy said, and Louis blinked in surprise. “What’s your name?”
Louis felt nervous, thinking he probably shouldn’t give his real name in case he was getting in trouble, and scrambled for the first different name he could think of. “Uh…. um…. it’s Liam,” he stumbled, his face immediately burning in embarrassment.
The other boy threw his head back and laughed uproariously. “No, it’s not,” he giggled. “You are a really bad liar.”
“Okay, fine, it’s Louis,” said the dark-haired boy, rubbing the back of his head. “Now can I please have that back?”
“Hmmm,” the boy said, thinking about it. “That depends. You think you can take it from me?” He held the handle of the sword with two hands, his eyes glinting mischievously.
Louis stood awkwardly for a second. He wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to do this, to be talking to – to a royal’s son, or whoever this boy was. But on the other hand, he was being really annoying.
“I don’t know,” Louis said slowly, waiting for the other boy to relax a little, looking disappointed. “Maybe… I will,” and then he lunged for the sword.
The curly-haired boy pulled back just in time, peeling with delighted laughter, and took off across the lawn. Louis took chase and they raced around the castle grounds, wrestling over the sword and pushing each other around playfully. As fast as Louis could run, the other boy always seemed just a tiny bit faster, and he clearly knew the castle grounds like the back of his hand.
Finally, Louis managed to tackle him to the ground and pinned him there, practically sitting on top of him as he wrenched the sword from his hands.
“There,” he panted, sticky with the summer humidity, and pointing his makeshift sword directly at the other boy’s chest. “I win. HA.”
For a second, the other boy actually looked surprised, or maybe angry? and Louis felt his blood run a little cold, wondering if he had just made a big mistake. If he should have let the other boy win.
But then his face split into a big smile, and he pushed Louis off of him cheerily, pulling himself up and then extending a hand. “Good one, Louis,” he said. “That was fun.”
Louis relaxed and took his hand, letting him pull him up. With his target in hand and the sun almost totally set by now, he started shuffling to the side. “…um, well, I should probably go home now, it’s getting sort of late…”
“Yeah, me too… but hey, Louis?”
“What?” Louis asked, turning back towards the curly-haired boy.
Before he could even think to react, the boy had lunged in and snatched the sword from his grip. He ran a few paces away, holding it in the air triumphantly and grinning.
“I win!” the other boy smirked, jogging backwards towards the castle.
“Hey, not fair!” Louis protested, starting after him again.
“Sorry, gotta go inside now. You have to come back tomorrow if you want it,” the other boy said in a sing-song voice.
“Ugh, fine, you’re so annoying,” Louis groaned, causing the other kid to laugh. He watched him nearly reach the castle before thinking to call, “wait, how will I find you? What’s your name?”
Right as the boy reached one of the castle’s side doors, he turned and flashed that enormous grin once again. “It’s Harry,” he said before disappearing from sight.
Louis walked home in stunned silence, his face permanently red so that even by the time he reached the small cottage where he lived with his grandmother, she could see the color and asked him if something was wrong. He shook his head mutely, unable to explain that he was torn between wondering if his new friend had merely played a trick on him, or if he had really spent the afternoon tackling the Crown Prince of Camelot to the ground.
Eight
Harry’s hands gripped tightly onto a branch of the willow tree where he was crouched in a fork amongst its branches. He peered out from his favorite hiding place through the shifting leaves, looking for a sign of his pursuers.
“Oh, Harryyy…” came a familiar sing-song, making him snicker and crouch lower in the branches. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…”
Through the leaves, he could see two figures passing by: one dark-haired, thin and devious-looking, the other tall and built, with gangly brown hair. They were his castle friends, Zayn and Liam, prowling the grounds in search of him.
Even at eight years old, Harry knew the grounds better than most adults, and could often stay hidden for hours before being caught by his friends. But as he hunched lower in the tree, watching Zayn and Liam pass him by unwittingly, something made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, as though –
“GOT YOU!” came a high-pitched scream from right behind him, and Harry just barely turned around in time to see Louis pouncing at him through the branches.
“AH!” Harry shouted as Louis tackled him, and they tumbled out of the tree together, laughing hysterically.
“How did you know I was there?!” Harry asked incredulously, picking himself up and dusting off his clothes.
“You always hide in that stupid tree,” Louis grinned as Zayn and Liam came running up to them.
“Nice work, Louis,” Zayn said triumphantly while Liam jumped up and down in excitement, saying “our plan worked perfectly!!”
“Okay, you guys are getting better at this, I admit it,” Harry said sheepishly, shaking his head. “I’ll just have to find better places to hide next time…”
“Nah, I like beating you,” Zayn said as the four boys started to walk across the castle grounds. It was the middle of the day, and the castle was alive with activity. Servants rushed in and out with their chores, the chimneys from the kitchen poured out smoke as the cooks prepared the evening meal, and just coming over the horizon…
“The knights!” Liam shouted in excitement as the boys caught sight of the King’s guard going through their training paces. Zayn and Liam raced off to watch, while Harry and Louis followed at a walk.
“Do those two ever run out of energy?” Louis asked as they watched the other two boys sprint towards the training grounds.
“You should see them during school,” Harry responded dryly, and Louis giggled.
“Prince Harry?” came a sudden exclamation, and Harry winced as he stopped, turning to see Miriam, his… ‘guardian,’ rushing towards him. Miriam was an older woman, tall and severe in her black dress, her graying hair tied back perfectly in a bun, and her face was pinched and displeased as she rushed towards him.
“Prince Harry,” she said again in shock and disapproval, “whatever happened to your clothes?”
Harry looked down and saw that his day clothes had been dirtied and scratched by his romp through the branches and sighed, his stomach sinking. “I’m sorry, Miriam. I was just playing.”
“I’m sure you were,” Miriam said, shooting a piercing look over Harry’s head and towards Louis, who Harry could practically feel shrinking away. Harry scowled and stepped further in front of Louis, making Miriam return her focus to him. “And your lessons, Prince Harry? Did you bother with any of those today?”
“I finished them all earlier, Miriam,” Harry said in annoyance, biting back harsher words. “Now, I’m going to watch my father’s knights.”
Miriam sighed. “I suppose their training would be good for you to observe…. fine. But you’re washing up before dinner. No Crown Prince should be seen in society wearing clothes like that,” she said pointedly, casting one last withering look at Louis before swishing away in her long robes.
Harry let out an enormous groan as she vanished, pressing his small hands into his face. “Oh my god she is so annoying.”
“She’s your guardian,” Louis said hesitantly, his voice much smaller than usual. “Isn't she sort of supposed to annoy you…?”
“She’s not my guardian, that’s such a stupid word,” Harry insisted as they resumed their walk towards the training ground. “She’s a babysitter, and I hate it.”
Louis stuffed his hands in his pockets before admitting, “her voice is pretty horrible.”
“Prince Harry,” Harry mocked, using a high, nasally voice, and Louis snorted. “How dare you place your royal feet upon such disgusting grass?!”
“Prince Harry,” Louis joined in, “dost thou knowest that the air you breathe contains DUST?!! What shall the royal lungs think?!”
Harry burst into laughter as they finally reached the training grounds, but once they were close enough to see the crowd of nobles gathered to watch the knights, Louis pulled to a halt.
“I think I’ll probably leave,” Louis said, shifting from side to side.
“Why?” Harry asked curiously.
“Um…” Louis shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Just don’t want to watch the knights.”
Harry furrowed his brow as he looked back at the training grounds, then shrugged and walked back towards Louis. “Okay. I’ve seen it at least a million times. I’ll go with you.”
Louis looked surprised, but grinned, and the two boys walked away from the crowd, taking a random, meandering path back through the castle grounds. The two of them often did this after playing their games with Zayn and Liam; as close as the four of them were, Harry and Louis seemed to stick together a little tighter. For one thing, Harry always felt like the other two kids would let him win sometimes, like everyone else in the castle always did. Being Crown Prince sometimes felt like everyone treated him with gloves, afraid to break him as though he were made of glass. Louis never made him feel like that, even if it involved getting his nose rubbed in the dirt every now and then. When they talked, as they did often, Harry felt like he could tell Louis anything, especially things that Zayn and Liam, as the sons of nobles, might not have liked to hear.
“What do you even learn about in those stupid lessons, anyway?” Louis asked when their conversation returned back to Miriam’s appearance.
“Mostly boring stuff, like history and math and things,” Harry said, kicking a rock as they passed it. They walked past a fallen log, which Harry jumped onto and walked on while balancing.
“Ah, so Prince Harry can someday run the kingdom?” Louis asked with a crooked grin, clearly not knowing the way Harry’s stomach always flipped when someone said something like that.
“I hate that name,” he said, choosing to ignore the rest of the sentence.
“What? Prince Harry?” Louis asked, affecting the same high-pitched tone as earlier. Harry shot him a look as he jumped off the log.
“Yes,” he responded honestly. “It’s all I hear, day in, day out. Prince Harry, your presence is requested. Prince Harry, stop eating tarts before dinner, Prince Harry, get inside so we can lock you back up in your tower like a lonely princess…”
Louis giggled and asked, “well, what would you like to be called instead?”
“Probably… Louis,” Harry responded, then laughed as Louis shoved him with his shoulder. “Just kidding.”
They walked in companionable silence for a little while, listening to the bugs whir in the grass and the trees, before Harry spoke again. “I just wish that I could be Harry. Just Harry. Like when my mother was here, she just wanted me to be Harry”
“Oh yeah?” Louis asked.
“Yeah,” and Harry suddenly felt embarrassed, like the whole thing was silly. He looked at Louis, though, and the other boy didn’t look like he was mocking or making fun. He just had that earnest, interested look he usually had on his face, the one that made Harry feel like Louis actually listened to him.
“Well, you know you'll always be just Harry to me too.” Louis smiled softly, as they sat down on the highest rock, sitting cross-legged across from each other, and Harry glanced at him in relief. The dark-haired boy’s face was serious and contemplative. Of course, Harry thought. Louis had never treated him awkwardly when Harry talked about his mother. Louis had lost his mother, too, and his father as well, to the same war that had taken Harry’s.
“If I had magic wish I could bring her back sometimes, and use it for good," The curly-haired boy began, "I remember this thing she used to say... that dreams were this powerful weapon,” Harry started rushing, the words just pouring out of him, the ones he had thought over a hundred times before. “That they were the closest thing you could get to good magic, and probably more powerful. And I’ve just – I’ve always really liked that. I like the idea of taking something away from the sorcerers, and using it against them.” At this point he hit his fist against his knee with enthusiasm, getting angry, as he always did, at the thought of magic.
Louis had gone even quieter, and more still, than he had before, looking down at his hands and away from Harry. Harry glanced away as well and felt bad. He knew magic was a sore spot for Louis, too. When the sorcerers had attacked Camelot years ago, dozens of villagers and nobles alike had died under the onslaught. There were no sorcerers in Camelot anymore, thanks to Harry’s father, but even saying the word ‘magic’ could be enough to scare and anger those who had been burned by it.
Thirteen
"Look at him! Look!! He’s blushing," Zayn cackled as Louis jogged to join the trio of teenagers waiting at the edge of the forest.
"Hey guys, sorry I’m late," Louis said, panting slightly for breath. "What’s going on?"
"Harry’s got a girlfriend," Liam teased from the rock he was sitting on.
"I do not," Harry snapped shortly from the tree he leaned against, crossing his arms petulantly. At thirteen, Harry had grown at least a head over his friends, rivaled only by Liam; he had already started to grow into himself, having begun to lose the gangly awkwardness inherent to being a young adult. Kingly genes, Louis often teased him, usually earning him a punch in the arm.
"He so does," Zayn snickered as Louis tried to catch up with their conversation. Unlike Zayn and Liam, dressed comfortably in their well-made clothes of leather and linen, Louis was dressed somewhat warmly for the hot summer day in his woolen tunic and trousers. He also wore the nice leather boots Harry had given him during the new year’s celebration, already nearly worn through from daily use.
"Something to tell the class?" Louis jabbed when Harry made eye contact with him. The prince just rolled his eyes away, obviously annoyed, and Louis smirked.
"This girl won’t leave me alone and these two jesters seem to think it’s meant to be," Harry muttered, pushing away from the tree to walk towards Louis. "I’m really ready to drop it. You know the way or what?" he asked Louis as he passed by, brushing against his shoulder.
"Yes, your Kingliness, sir, anything you wish," Louis quipped, mock-bowing to Harry’s back as Zayn and Liam snickered. They fell into step behind him as Louis started to direct them through the thick forest that spread for miles behind the King’s castle.
"It is the perfect day for this," Liam piped up from the end of the line, prompting nods from the other boys.
"If I'm honest, I’m surprised you all got out of your lessons for the day," Louis said, resulting in an uncharacteristic silence from the other boys. "...guys?"
"About that," Zayn said, and the three dissolved into chuckles.
"We’re skipping!" Liam cried joyfully.
"What?!" Louis asked in outrage, pulling up short.
"Louis, it’s no big deal," Harry said, pausing to shoot him a look.
"Won’t you get in trouble? I don’t know if you remember the last time the three of you were castle-locked, but I didn’t get to see any of you for a month," Louis grumbled.
Harry just rolled his eyes and grabbed Louis’s arm, pulling him along. "Louis, that was like four years ago. I can do whatever I want now. The only person who can ground me is my dad and he doesn’t care what I do. Now show us where this stupid lake is. I want to go swimming."
Louis groaned and shoved Harry back. "Fine, then let me lead for once, you big dunce."
Louis led capably through the thick woods that his friends rarely had reason to venture into except for royal hunts (a wholly graceless affair which usually led to more destruction than plunder). He spent most of his time here, actually, either hunting small game using his own contraptions or searching for various herbs and ingredients that his grandmother, a healer, needed for her practice. He felt a small rush of pride as he directed his friends around a particularly nasty wasp’s nest, pointed out a small sinkhole in the path, and finally guided them through a thicket of thorns unscathed before they finally emerged to find a small, crystal-clear lake, fed by a branch of the river that cleaved Camelot’s forest nearly in two. Small sandy beaches and rocks surrounded the water, and the tall trees of the forest on all sides provided a beautiful backdrop.
"Here we are, boys," Louis said, but his words were practically drowned out by Zayn's excited holler, who immediately stripped off his outer garments to leap into the water with only his shorts. Louis chuckled and shook his head as Liam ran after him, taking the entry into the water a little more cautiously, and then turned to see Harry looking around the small grove with a wondrous expression.
"This is amazing, Louis," Harry said genuinely. When he looked Louis’s way, the sunlight caught his eyes and made them practically shine. "How did you find this place?"
"Stumbled on it while looking for hemlock for my gran," Louis responded, suddenly feeling awkward. "You like it?"
"I love it," Harry said, and Louis felt a rush of warmth. "Come on!"
Soon, the two of them were jumping into the water as well, laughing uproariously. The water was perfect, cool and clear, and the four boys took turns diving in, swimming laps and dunking each other under water. The sun warmed their skin every time they came up for air. They were perfectly content.
After a few hours, Louis and Harry sat in comfortable silence, sunning themselves on a large, flat stone near the water, while Zayn and Liam continued tormenting each other in the lake.
"You’ve really never seen anybody else out here?" Harry asked, closing his eyes and tilting his face towards the sun contentedly. He couldn’t believe this hidden spot wasn’t more popular with the nearby villagers. It was almost too perfect to be real.
"No," Louis responded sleepily from his side, stretching out on the stone. "And I come out here all the time, it’s…"
Louis suddenly stopped, sitting up ramrod-straight. His eyes were wide and his whole body went tense at once, as though he had just been shocked.
"What’s wrong?" Harry asked immediately, sitting up as well and looking at him with concern.
"There’s something –,"
"Harry, look out!" Zayn suddenly shouted, and Harry immediately grabbed Louis’s arm and pull them both to the side.
The place they had been sitting only a second earlier was suddenly showered with arrows. They clattered and smashed onto the rocks as Louis yelped in surprise, and Harry yanked him behind a tall vertical rock where they cowered, panting for breath.
"So it was the Crown Prince we just saw," came a voice from the woods that made Harry’s blood run cold. He peeked over the top of the rock and saw a group of men emerge from the tree line, wielding bows and swords, and he cursed under his breath.
"Bandits?" Louis whispered and Harry nodded.
"Hey, assholes," Zayn roared bravely from the water, where he swam quickly to reach the edge of the lake, "what’s your problem? You really think trying to murder the Prince in cold blood is a good move, motherfuckers?"
"Prince Harry," said a man with a dark beard and a bow in his hand, "we have no quarrel with your friends. Come out and face us and we will let them escape unharmed."
Harry’s pulse picked up in his ears as he saw several bandits take aim at Zayn and Liam, who were momentarily suspended, defenseless, in the water. He looked desperately for something to defend himself with, but they had brought nothing, no weapons of any kind – even his clothes were lying in a heap on the other side of the lake…
"Shit," Harry said, "okay," and then turned to Louis, whose face was pale and nervous. "It’ll be okay," he said, trying to force his voice to sound calm, the way his father always sounded in moments of crisis. "They won’t kill me, they’ll just… use me for ransom, or something. Just stay here, okay?"
"Harry," he heard Louis whisper harshly, but Harry was already standing, putting his hands in the air and walking slowly towards the bandits.
"Fine," he called out, "just… leave them alone," and approached the line of marauders, feeling exposed in nothing but the shorts he had used to swim.
His heart beat loudly in his ears as the bandits, tall, strong men with scars on their faces and arms, turned to focus on him, grinning viciously. Their leader walked out to meet him, his face full of scorn.
"You are your father’s child," the bandit proclaimed, and Harry grit his teeth. "You see yourself as heroic, but you are really just a fool."
I’m sure my father will think so, too, once he has to pay to retrieve me, Harry thought bitterly, but that thought dissolved into sudden panic as the bandit strung his bow with an arrow.
"And now you will answer for your father’s crimes," the bandit said as he pulled the string back, aimed directly at Harry’s heart.
He had no time to react, no idea what to do, heard Zayn and Liam shout in unison, and then –
And then, a great wind came rushing into the clearing, a wind that buffeted against the side of Harry’s head and practically threw him off his feet, a wind that knocked the bandit’s arrow away and sent it flying harmlessly into the forest.
The wind died down immediately, leaving the clearing in a second of stunned silence –
It was all Harry needed.
He launched himself at the bandit and wrenched the bow from his startled grasp, hitting him soundly over the head with the handle and wrenching a handful of arrows from his quiver. Rolling over, he fired three shots in quick succession, two of which hit their marks and sent bandits yelping and fleeing into the woods. An arrow whizzed narrowly over his head and he ducked, turned to see Zayn and Liam finally out of the water and disarming the nearest bandits, handily sending them packing into the woods. He fired one more shot at the bandit’s last remaining archer, and then they were all fleeing, the whole lot of them.
"Don’t come back!" he shouted giddily into the woods as he watched their retreating backs, and Zayn screamed "YES! YES!" while Liam just ran up to Harry babbling: "are you okay, Harry?! – we did it, we really did it, we won our first battle! – that wind was so lucky - I took that guy’s sword –,"
Harry held out an arm to stop Liam as he saw the leader of the bandits stir at his feet, sitting up to see three teenagers in their shorts holding bows and swords pointed directly at him.
The bandit glared up at Harry with hateful eyes. "Well then, Crown Prince," he said through gritted teeth, "do it. As I would have done to you."
Harry contemplated him with curiosity. "I don’t know what my father did to you to make you hate him like this," he finally said, dropping his bow. "But that is not the kind of person I am."
Somehow this only enraged the man more – he drew himself up, snarling: "if you don’t know what your father did to magic users in this country then you are an idiot as well as a tyrant –,"
It was the wrong thing to say. Harry suddenly felt his blood rush hot and loud in his ears, and he grabbed the bandit by the front of his shirt and wrenched him up, hissing, "So you’re a friend of sorcery, is that it? I was about to let you walk away, but perhaps you’ve managed to change my mind."
"Do it," the man breathed back with a wild gleam in his eyes, not defending himself, barely resisting. "It would be an honor to die in the same way as my parents, as my family, so do it. Just –,"
And Harry almost did.
But he felt a hand fall on his shoulder, a warm, familiar hand that pulled him back until he was looking at Louis. Louis, with his serious, dark eyes, his face lined with concern.
"Harry," Louis said quietly. "You’ve won. Let him go."
The words pierced through the red haze of anger that had taken over his vision, and Harry took a breath, lowered his head in a short nod. He turned back to the bandit, still in his grasp, who looked back and forth from Louis to Harry in confusion and anger.
Harry dropped him in a heap, watching him cough and struggle to rise. "You will leave Camelot and never return if you know what’s good for you," he said harshly, "because if I find you again, I will chase you out myself."
The bandit rose finally and began limping to the tree line, but took one look back at the group of four, and, inexplicably, began laughing. He cackled all the way into the forest, until his voice dropped out of range.
"Fucking weirdo," mumbled Zayn while Liam just shook his head.
"Are you okay?" Louis asked Harry, and Harry nodded.
"He was a sorcerer," Harry said, and saw Louis’s face go pale. "Or a friend of sorcerers."
"And we beat him," Liam said from his side, clasping his shoulder.
"Hell yes, we did," Zayn said, grabbing Harry's other shoulder. "We beat him in our underwear."
The four of them laughed in utter relief, standing on the edge of the lake for another long moment before Liam finally said, "okay, I’m officially done with this. Let’s go home already."
As they got dressed and started to pack up for the walk home, Harry noticed that Louis still seemed off, was still quiet and reserved compared to his normal self. As Zayn and Liam continued to dry off and grab their things, Harry pulled Louis to the side.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked quietly.
Louis’s eyes went wide. "Y-yes," he said quickly, "yes, I’m fine."
"You just seem… weird, I don’t know."
"Well, it’s, yes, I mean, it’s…" Louis gestured broadly to the lake, as though gesturing at the entire afternoon. "It's been a… a weird day."
"I think I get it," Harry said, inspecting Louis’s expressions carefully.
"You do?" Louis asked nervously.
"Louis," Harry said, clapping him on the shoulder, "just because you couldn’t fight today, doesn’t mean you weren’t helping us. I know that was probably pretty scary, but Zayn and Liam I… we’ve been training for this. And you don’t have to be a knight to be our friend, okay? I don’t want you to feel bad about that, or anything.”
Louis had a strange expression on his face, and he sighed deeply, nodding. “Okay. Thanks, Harry,” he finally said, crossing his arms. “It’s just… yeah. I guess I don’t like feeling helpless when you’re in danger.”
“Awww, Lou cares about us after all,” Harry teased, messing up Louis’ hair just to hear him splutter angrily, like normal. “Anyway, you helped. You were like… moral support,” he grinned as Louis went red in embarrassment.
“Yeah, Louis is like our cheerleader,” joked Zayn as the group finally started retracing their steps towards Camelot. Harry laughed while Liam hit Zayn, telling him to ‘be nice,’ and they trudged towards the forest.
They didn’t see Louis stop for a moment longer on the beach. They didn’t see the long moment of silence in which Louis watched the bandit's leader emerge quietly from the opposite tree line, pulling back a newly retrieved bow. They didn’t see the arrow whistle through the air, cutting a dangerous arc directly towards Harry’s back.
They didn’t see the arrow freeze, mid-air, and break in half, as Louis held up his arm steadily, making direct eye contact with the bandit himself. Louis dropped his arm, and the arrow dropped into the lake.
The bandit’s eyes were wide and dumbstruck as Louis stared him down, his face cold and determined. The trio disappeared into the forest.
And then Louis was gone, as well.