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“Bring more sack and pies, I'm wasting away!”
The noise of voices shouting down Mad Jack Falstaff grew and crested like a wave over Hal's head as he sat reading the news of Hotspur's latest triumph.
“Rogues and knaves all of you who would keep me from my sack!”
Falstaff caught sight of the Prince and puffed up his chest even further.
“Drink for the lad, can't you see he's pale from lack of it.”
“Quiet Sir John, it's not sack he needs now but a fight.”
Gently Poins tried to turn Falstaff's attention away from Hal and back towards the buxom maid bringing them their sack and a pile of warm mince pies.
“A fight you say? Why I am as good a man for a fight as any but it's a feast day today and the lad needs to put away such things and celebrate like a good Christian.”
“A Christian, you madcap slave!”
Finally roused from his letter Hal stared in disbelief at Falstaff's words and his air of lordliness.
“What do you know of good Christian behaviour?”
“Why I know a glass of good sack to toast our saviour's birth, and a pie full of spices like those brought to him are the proper way to celebrate the day.”
Falstaff took these items as the maid offered them to him and took a deep draught of the sack before grabbing the Jenny around her waist and kissing her soundly.
“And that Sir Knight, how is kissing fair Jenny good Christian behaviour?”
“Why should we not all love our fellow creatures at this time of the year lad?”
Hal found himself almost smiling despite himself and took his own glass of wine to toast Falstaff. He could see the night unfold before him with wine and food and merriment all coming together in the chaotic warmth of the tavern before they would, inevitably, fall into bed with bodies tangled around each other taking no note whether it was Jack or Jenny he had in his arms.
“Love of our fellow creatures is it? Well I suppose then I must tear this letter and join you.”
As he spoke he tore the deeds of Hotspur in two, knowing they would haunt his mind whether he saw them set down or not, and took a large bite of the hot, spiced pie in front of him.
“Slow down sweetling!”
Richard laughed as you Harry tried to cram the whole pie into his mouth at once.
“Nobody shall take it from you, it's yours to eat and the cook can bring more as needed.”
Harry looked up at his cousin Richard, King Richard. It had been strange leaving his family and coming to live with the king after his father's exile. He had expected to be an outcast and treated almost as a prisoner.
As many young boys would he had created stories of in his head of his own mistreatment by Richard and imagined fighting his way back to his father's side. Exactly what would happen then was something of a blur in Harry's mind but the whole story had crumbled when faced with Richard.
Instead of an outcast Richard treated Harry almost as a son, or a much younger brother, to be petted and cared for and brought out to entertain.
“This cannot be your first pie to celebrate the Kings arrival? I'm quite sure one of our relatives must have treated you to this before.”
Harry blushed and tried to swallow the large chunk of spiced meat he had taken.
“No my lord, I have had one before but never as good as this or as warm and welcome as this is with the draughts and the ice around the castle...”
Harry trailed off, realising perhaps insulting Trim Castle where Richard had brought him was not the way to behave to his host. But Richard only laughed.
“Too cold is it young one? I'm sure when you are a soldier you'll find colder, harder places than this to sleep in and take joy in it too.”
Harry blushed again and tried to make himself stand taller.
“Nay, don't rush to be a soldier just yet Hal. The day will come but for today come and take some warmth from these robes of mine.”
Richard reached out an arm, covered in a fur-lined cloak, and drew Harry to him.
“Today is Epiphany and the carol singers will come soon. Take another bite of your food and be warm. Tomorrow may be for fighting but today is for celebrating.”
“Hal? Lad, have you fallen asleep on your feet?”
Falstaff's voice broke Harry out of the reverie the taste of the pie had dropped him into. Suddenly the heat of the tavern, the noise and the bustle all seemed too much and too close.
“Not asleep, only thinking on the day.”
Harry shook Falstaff's hand off his shoulder and took another large drink of wine.
“Do you think any King in his castle could be warmer or more comfortable than we tonight?”
Falstaff's eyes narrowed at the strange tone in Harry's voice but he took him at his word, topped up his glass and threw an arm around the Prince's shoulders.
“No King for today but when you are King I'm sure there will be wine and good and good music for celebrating and poor Jack Falstaff will be your master of ceremonies.”
“The castle would tremble at your celebrating Jack.”
Harry tried again to shake off the memory of that cold, quiet castle and the kind, welcoming Richard.
“But for today this is our castle and if you can bring us more of these pies Jack you can be my Lord Chancellor, master of ceremonies and queen all at once.”
Falstaff laughed and pressed a kiss against the side of Harry's forehead.
“Well then what a night we shall have. More pies and cakes for the Prince!”
“And more sack for yourself I'll be bound!”
Harry waved his glass at Falstaff and laughed. This would be a good celebration as the new year started but his mind returned to Hotspur's deeds, his own father's disgust and the long dead Richard's words.
Tomorrow may be for fighting...