It was not a secret but no one at the hospital spoke the truth aloud.
Henry Hopkins had lost his faith and was about to enlist as a soldier in the Union Army.
What no one knew was when.
There was consensus, a rarity at Mansion House, that Henry should not go. How to persuade him of this was not generally agreed upon, though nearly everyone appeared to believe some degree of subtlety should be employed to convince the chaplain.
“Probably get shot dead in the first charge, heroics no match for a bayonet,” Dr. Hale announced brusquely, when Nurse Hastings coaxed him to an awareness of the situation. “Better off praying over the wounded, taking care of dying boys.”
It was not surprising that Reverend Hopkins nodded, clearly ignoring Dr. Hale’s exhortation.
Dr. Foster cajoled Henry to play chess in the late afternoon, explaining he wanted a decent chance to win, which he did not have at home. Mary Foster made rounds twice a week with Henry, visiting the boys recovering from their injuries, engaging him in all sorts of logistic and theological discussions, and then begged him quite prettily to come to supper at the house Dr. Foster had leased for them, where she might serve some New England delicacies her husband might turn his nose up at and be guaranteed a game of chess with an opponent who would not sulk when faced with defeat, daring him to accuse her of lying, though they all knew Jed would eat whatever Mary served and grinned at the end of every match, so delighted to have his wife announce “Checkmate” in their firelit sitting room. Nurse Hastings achieved something previously felt to be impossible, telling constant tales of her time in Crimea, now featuring a saintly chaplain she said had saved nearly as many lives as she had herself. Matron took to following Henry about, managing to appear wherever he was, not saying terribly much but keeping a close eye on him.
Samuel Diggs, on the eve of his departure for medical training in Philadelphia, simply told Henry to follow his conscience over his heart and to bring a stout pair of boots if he went to the front.
Charlotte Jenkins, who had no time to waste, came to Emma and said, “Tell him to stay because you don’t want him to go.”
Emma nodded and said she appreciated the advice and knew she could never be so direct with Henry. Not after everything that had happened, not when he had begun to look at her again without his lips tightening in the inverse of a kiss, pressed together as if he tasted something bitter or might say something unforgivable.
She got him a puppy.
It was less intentional than she would have hoped when she had first come to nurse the Confederate soldiers, when Dr. Foster called her the Hoopskirt Assassin and had meant it more than she understood. There was no coquetry to this gift, no flirtation in the overture.
It was serendipity and prayer, it was understanding how Henry was always called to care for the most vulnerable, could only make himself vulnerable in that way.
It was a dank, rainy day and one of the camp followers Mary looked after brought in the small dog of indeterminate pedigree, shivering and wet and have wrapped in what remained of an old, much-laundered shift. Emma, startled into speechlessness, took the puppy in her arms when the woman offered it and then found she had no idea what to do with it. She was standing at the end of the hall, uncertain as she hadn’t been since she’d first arrived, when Henry stepped out from a room and walked to her.
“Nurse Green, may I help you?” he said, looking only at her face, not taking in what she held, which made it easier to extend her arms and reply,
“Take her please. Or him, I don’t rightly know,” she said.
Henry picked up the puppy from her arms and cradled it in his.
“What shall I do with it?” he asked, but she could see he already had an idea from the way he shifted the small dog in his arms so that one hand could reach to stroke the silky head gently. She knew he was capable of that, a great gentleness that matched the depths of his rage, and that he had struggled to bring them in balance. Perhaps the dog would help. Perhaps it wouldn’t.
She could tell he would love it regardless.
“I should think, find out whether we ought to say her or him, pick a name, make a place for it to sleep. Fetch a dish for water. Matron will give you something for it to eat, as long as you promise it won’t make a mess,” she said.
“You’ve thought this through,” he replied.
“It’s not complicated. Some things aren’t. It needs to be looked after and my hands are full,” she said.
“You might have given it to Mrs. Foster,” he said.
“Never tell him I said this, but she has her hands full with Dr. Foster and I do think he’d be envious of any attention she gave to a puppy,” Emma said, knowing Mary would smile and Dr. Foster whoop a gale of laughter to hear her remark.
Henry did not smile exactly, but there was a light in his blue eyes that hadn’t been there in some time.
“She still has Plum, that little stray,” Henry said.
“But Plum lives here at Mansion House,” Emma said.
“This one looks to be a spaniel,” Henry said, fondling the puppy’s soft ears.
“Is that so?”
“My uncle had a spaniel when I was a boy. A good dog, loyal, friendly,” he said.
“I hope this one will be the same,” she said. “It’s good to have a friend.”
“Another friend,” Henry said, tilting his head to the side just a bit, regarding her keenly.
Henry named the puppy Snap.
Snap quickly became the hospital’s mascot, a trusted companion, capable of bringing a boy on the brink of death through the night, a favorite of all, earning accolades from Nurse Hastings who remarked that Snap was nearly the equal of Miss Nightingale’s owl Athena.
Henry did not enlist. What his sermons lacked in grandeur, they gained in homely comfort. His old convictions did not return, but something sweet and patient and persistent as a devoted spaniel, took their place.
Thank you for letting me use your prompt @reverieblondie
fem!Tav sneaking out whilst Raphael is asleep and meeting Haarlep.
Haarlep is in Archduchess shape for the entirety of their encounter, because I am gay and this was very self indulgent.
Warning: Raphael and Tav have an established relationship so there are definitely flavors of cheating.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
“You can cry his name all day”, Haarlep said as Tav squirmed. “But in the nights you will only utter mine. Can you manage that?”
Full under the cut:
It was not uncommon for Tav to sneak into the archive in the middle of the night. After all, she lived in the House of Hope after delivering the crown to Raphael and becoming his warlock in return - his warlock and some more. A smile snuck onto her lips as she let her fingers run over the backs of the countless tomes on the shelves. The smell of old paper, leather and parchment hung in the air. Raphael. She still could barely believe she was with him now after all that had happened since he hit her with that “Charmed, I’m sure, in more ways than one.”
Now was fast asleep, back in the boudoir, because he was a notorious early bird and Tav herself a night owl. So, just like the nights before, she had left his side to roam the halls.
So, it really wasn’t novel that she pulled out one of the books now, a small one, but ancient, with a dark blue cover. What was new was that apparently she had company.
“A lost little mouse is running through the house …”
The breathy words hit her neck and made her skin form goosebumps immediately. Tav sighed and put the book back before turning around. “Really, Haarlep? I live here.”
The incubus showed a toothy smile. They had shed the shape of the younger Raphael after Tav moved in and Raphael didn’t desired his own image anymore. Now they roamed the boudoir in a variety of their accumulated shapes. However, Archduchess still made an appearance occasionally. Like now. Haarlep’s wings were folded behind their back, the harness sat tight around their waist and breasts and the tail curled neatly around one of their own calves.
“I just remembered that first encounter of ours”, Haarlep cooed. The dim light enhanced the hook of their nose and the curve of their brows. “What a shame you only have eyes for the master now.” They lowered their head towards Tav’s cheek. “You were … delicious.”
Tav could feel the tips of their tongue caressing her skin, light like a feather.
“Don’t you miss it?” They reached down to grab her hands and pull them up. “The feeling of this shape you asked for so nicely, when you came into the boudoir?”
Tav’s mouth was dry. It was true, she had been distracted by finally getting her fill of Raphael over the past weeks - quite literally in most cases - but that didn’t mean she had forgotten about the incubus.
“Who said I didn’t have my eyes on you?” she responded, so very tempted to just cup the breasts in front of her. They were so close … But Raphael and her hadn’t talked about including anyone else in their relationship yet. She couldn’t betray him.
Haarlep seemed to notice the struggle in her face. “Are you worried about our little brat?”, they asked. “What would he say if he found out you snuck away in the night to be with his personal incubus if he found out?”
Fuck, those words only made the idea even more tempting to her.
“Because that’s what you are doing here, isn’t it?” They continued, grabbing her hands more firmly and finally pressing them against their soft breasts.
A torn little moan escaped Tav’s mouth. The truth stung. Yes, that had been exactly what she had been hoping for secretly when she sat in the archive every night, flipping through book after book - though she did not intend to tell the incubus just how right they were.
“I also like to read.”
“Of course you do.” Archduchess moved Tav’s hands over the shape of her chest and Tav could feel their nipples harden under the touch. “He doesn’t have to know.”
Tav bit her lips, but her resistance crumbled - if there had been any in the first place. Her hips yanked forward on their own to press against the incubus’ groin.
“Come here”, Haarlep purred, leaving her hands and pulling Tav into an embrace. “Let me make your desire become reality.”
With a wave of their right hand they made their harness burn away. Tav felt the silky small scales under her hands and the only thing she could do was tipping her head back and silently begging Haarlep to kiss her. They complied, not without a satisfied smile on their lips of course and met her mouth. Their lips were just as hot, but they tasted a lot different than kissing Raphael. There was only a hint of sweetness, instead the sensation of darker depths and burning spices. Cinnamon …
Their tongue opened her lips and explored her mouth. Tav drank in the salvia that she knew would intensify the heat between her legs and the tingling under her skin. The two tips of Haalep’s tongue embraced and played with hers until they gave her free, eliciting a disappointed and wanting moan. They urged her backwards until she felt one of the desks pressing against the small of her back. At the same time Archduchess’ hands slid under Tav’s clothes, taking in every inch of her skin, sliding the fabric up in the process. Tav helped and pulled the shirt over her head. Since it was her loungewear, she wore nothing underneath and her breasts were on full display.
Haarlep licked their lips at the sight of them. “Oh, I have missed this body. Of course I can indulge in it whenever I want, but it was very naughty to let me see you with Raphael and not grant me the same access. I had to improvise …”
Tav’s mind shot back to the times when she had been with Raphael and her lust had heightened seemingly without reason. When she had felt her clit twitching, despite him leaving it untouched, but too heated in the moment to pay real attention to the sensations.
“So that was you”, she gasped.
“You seemed to enjoy it.”
“You can have me now.”
“Oh, I will.” They grabbed her thighs and pulled her up to sit on the desk, spreading her legs at the same time and pulling down her pants. The fabric landed in a pile on the floor. Archduchess bent over her, grasping Tav’s hips and ass, pulling her into a lying position. Tav made the best of the access she was granted and let her hands indulge in the feeling of the Haarlep’s sides, the lean back and the bases of their wings. Apparently she had found a sensitive spot, because Haarlep froze for a second before bending down, licking and biting Tav’s neck. Fighting the urge to just close her eyes and hand herself over, Tav let her finger circle the wing base again, feeling the incubus shiver in reward. Haarlep bit down harder, almost piercing the skin of her shoulder with their sharp teeth, then making their way down her belly. Their tongue curved around her belly button whilst their claws grazed over the sensitive insides of her legs, causing them to instinctively spread further. Just as Tav thought they would dive down between them and finally meet the pulsing spot that craved attention, Haarlep went back up again.
“Fuck!”
“Shush, little one, you don’t want to be heard, do you?”
But she wanted to be heard. She wanted to make her moans wake Raphael from his slumber, wanted him to rise and come looking for what his mouse was up to and who managed to pull these noises from her. And then, when he saw them, he would step closer and -
Tav inhaled sharply as Haarlep’s teeth closed around her nipple, one of their hands grabbing her breast firmly, the other kneading her ass.
“Thinking about him?”
Of course Haarlep had picked up the flavor of her arousal. They teased her nipple with both tips of their tongue until it was rock hard and so sensitive that the feeling seemed to shoot right down to her clit. She must be so wet now that the slick was probably dripping. And still Haarlep hadn’t touched her in the place she wanted them most. Frustrated, Tav tipped her head back, her hair falling off her shoulders.
“You can cry his name all day”, Haarlep said, finally tracing one finger over her vulva, but not sliding in or with enough pressure to soothe the burning. Tav squirmed. “But in the nights, you will only utter mine. Can you manage that?”
Tav nodded eagerly.
“Perfect.” They kissed her once more and then finally dove down to make their tongue meet her clit. Tav buried her hands in the archduchess’s hair to hold onto something. The incubus’ saliva, the split tongue and their extraordinary skill had Tav rush to her orgasm faster than lightspeed. But as she neared the release Haarlep rose again, lips glinting from wetness and only circling her clit with the tip of their index finger. Tav sat up, reaching for their round hips and pulling them close, seizing the chance to touch them instead. Her fingers found their entrance wet and pulsing. Tav couldn’t resist but to lick her fingers before going back for it. Haarlep’s cunt tasted similar to their saliva, rich and spicy and absolutely delicious. Tav’s fingers spread the folds and moved in the same way she’d pleasure herself. As Haarlep urged their hips closer to her in response, she grew more courageous. She fucked them on her fingers whilst sucking on their tits, nose buried in the soft flesh until their breath became ragged. She hooked her legs around Haarlep’s thighs and let her right hand wander up their back until she found the wing base. They shivered and clenched around her fingers as they came, breathlessly moaning for a moment, but recovering quickly.
“Cheeky”, they muttered against her ear. “But far from unwelcome.”
Haarlep pulled her hair and at the same time they pressed two fingers into her. As they spread and scissored inside her, Tav sank back until her head met the bookshelf behind her. Haarlep’s thumb brushing over her clit caused her eyelids to flutter. Tav’s fingers clawed into their upper arms desperately. Haarlep fucked her until she was close again, then they held her on the plateau of her lust, balancing her orgasm on the tips of their fingers, not allowing her to tumble over. Tav’s legs twitched, her stomach muscles contracted helplessly, heat seared in her abdomen. Haarlep’s lips caressed her cheek.
“What did I tell you?” It was merely a whisper.
“Haarlep, please!”
Satisfied they pressed against the right spot inside her and Tav exploded. Her walls contracted violently, her whole body spasmed, only held in place by Haarlep’s firm grip, but they didn’t stop touching her and her climax didn’t stop either. The first wave was immediately followed by another and then another until Tav whimpered against Haarlep’s neck, tears in her eyes.
Tav wrapped her arms around them as they lifted her off the table, much taller than her, even in Archduchess shape, and set her down on her own trembling legs. They handed her her clothes and with a shudder of sparks the harness reappeared on their body. Tav struggled into her clothes. When she was done, she found that Haarlep had picked up the blue book and handed it to her.
“You wanted to read, I recall”, they said with the cheeky grin that stayed the same regardless of which shape they were wearing.
Blushing, Tav took the book.
The incubus leaned closer. “I’ll meet you again, when you’re in a literary mood”, they said, kissing her forehead before sauntering off. Tav’s eyes followed their swaying ass and knew far too well, it wouldn’t be long until she’d indulge in some books again. After cleaning herself quickly, she slipped back under the covers taking her place next to Raphael. He hadn’t even stirred.
Raphael waited until Tav’s breath slowed and the cold foot touching his calf had thawed. Then he turned around to look down on her face. Her cheeks were flushed with a hint of pink and her mouth stood open just a little. His brows furrowed. How stupid they thought him to be. He might feel less of the Archduchess’ touch than of Haarlep’s male shape of him and normally he might have been able to sleep through it. But as the tingling of his skin woke him up tonight and he found Tav’s spot empty, he knew immediately what she was up to. She and his menace of an incubus. Raphael let his fingers wander over her cheek until they traced Tav’s lips, still plump from all the kisses. He watched as she subconsciously closed her lips around his index and sucked on it.
“Oh my, little mouse”, he muttered to himself. “What trouble did you get yourself into now …”
