Chapter Eight

Meg had convinced her brother and sister to come and visit her the next day, along with their partners, as it would be easier to convince everyone together. Unfortunately, that meant that they brought their children who combined, were a bit of a handful. Strength in numbers and all that.

Matt and his wife, Lucy, looked shell-shocked and pale thanks to his being drafted, and even their two children, usually a maelstrom of chaos, seemed a little subdued.

Hal was dressed in black jeans, a white t-shirt with a black cardigan over them and if she did say so herself, he looked mighty fine, even in such simple clothes.

"So, are you going to explain what all this is about?" Ruth demanded as soon the children were in settled in Meg's bedroom, watching a cartoons on the television. "And who is this strange man?"

"This is Hal," Meg said, introducing him. "Hal, my sister Ruth and her husband Tony, and my brother Matt and his partner, Lucy."

"Tis a very great pleasure to make thy acquaintance," Hal bowed very slightly.

"Your acquaintance," Meg corrected.

"He's the spitting image of Henry the fifth," Ruth's husband, Tony said.

Meg flinched. "Yeah, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh, not this again," Ruth sighed dramatically. Matt silently sat down, only nodding at Hal in greeting.

"I know you both thought I was talking bollocks when I told you I had gone back in time, but I did, and this is Hal. My Hal, better known as Henry the fifth of England."

Ruth tutted and rolled her eyes.

"You must have seen his portraits, no?" Meg urged.

"He is a good likeness." Lucy noted.

"He's not just a good likeness, he is Hal. And this," she handed then the tablet. "That's a portrait Hal had commissioned of me after I left him."

They passed the tablet around, clearly intrigued but still sceptical.

"So, he's the Lost King, is he?" Matt asked, coming out of his stupor a little.

They had learned last night that after Hal disappeared, he became known as the Lost King.

"Yes, and he's lost because he followed me here," Meg tried to explain. "And I know none of this will make any sense to you, but the England I grew up in was peaceful, and so was the England that I returned to. It was only when Hal followed me here that things changed."

"Changed?" Tony asked.

"Yes. In the original timeline, the Nazis were defeated in 1945 but Hal leaving his time to come ot the future has changed something and caused a ripple effect, that's why we're at war now."

"So you're trying to tell me your new boy toy is responsible for my being drafted?" Matt seemed amused.

"Yes, and he's also the reason you won't be drafted. We're going back to the 1400s and if we do, then everything here should go back to normal."

"This is not funny, Margaret!" Ruth spat. "I don't know what trick you're trying to pull but stop this nonsense right this second or so help me, I'll swing for you!"

Hal stood up. "Your reproof is something too round*! [*Your scolding is too harsh] Cease thy vile words, sirrah, for she is not deserving of thy scorn. Prithee thee would show the Lady Meg the respect she is deserving of, or I shall not be responsible for my actions."

Everyone looked a little taken aback by his sudden regal appearance, much as Meg had been that first night at the tavern, when he had shed his hedonistic party boy image and stood up to the Sheriff. This was a man used to being listened to and his demeanour had shocked her siblings into silence for a moment.

Ruth was the first to come back to herself and ask, "What is he, an actor?"

"No, he is Henry Plantagenet," Meg insisted.

"Do all kings wear jeans and t-shirts?" she sniped.

"I think I know a way we can settle this," Lucy spoke up. "I think I remember that Henry the fifth received wounds at Shrewsbury."

"Tis true," Hal nodded. "One to the shoulder and one to my leg."

"Yes, that sounds right," Lucy nodded.

"Then by all means, show us," Ruth scoffed.

"You wish me to disrobe in public?" he asked her, askance.

"Hal, things are different here, as long as you don't reveal the family jewels, you're good," Meg assured him.

"I swear that thy language has become even stranger since thou left me."

"Stop stalling," she challenged and with a glare, he pulled his jacket and t-shirt off.

"Coincidence," Ruth scoffed.

Meg tried to discreetly nod to his jeans and after a silent battle of wills, he undid the belt and pushed them low enough to make his thigh wound visible.

"It's some kind of prosthetic or makeup," Ruth declared.

"Touch it," Meg offered, and Hal scowled at her.

"I am not some cut of beef you can offer around!"

Meg got up and stood before him. "I'm sorry, Hal, I really am, but my brother is being forced into a conflict that had already killed a hundred million world-wide." Her reading had last night had educated her on the war a little. "Can you not endure a little embarrassment if it sets his mind at rest? For me?"

Hal tried to relax. "What is one further indignity?" he sighed. "Come forth Mistress Ruth, you may poke and prod me at your leisure, within reason."

Ruth did approach but she only ran her finger tips over each wound, seemingly slightly ashamed that she had insisted on it.

"They feel real," she admitted quietly.

"Good," Hal said as he pulled his jeans up. "I believe that is quite enough degradation for one day." Grabbing his t-shirt back and jacket back, he carried them out of the room with him.

No one spoke, they didn't know what to say, much less what to believe.

Hal returned moments later, fully dressed once more and carrying the clothes he was wearing yesterday, as well as his dagger and belt.

"Here are the garments I arrived with." He shoved the pile at Ruth but it was Lucy who accepted them, and she began to examine the stitching, while Matt took the dagger.

"This is wicked sharp," he noted. "And is that blood?"

"That dagger was with me at every battle since I was but three and ten," Hal explained. "It has seen more than a little blood."

"This whole garment is hand stitched," Lucy noted. "Very good work but not done by machine."

"Okay, say that we do believe this cock and bull story," Ruth coughed. "Why haven't things changed if you intend to go back?"

"Because making a decision means nothing if you don't follow through with it. When we go back, then things should change."

"So why tell us? Why not just go back and make things right?"

Meg looked hurt. "Because as well as practicalities such as selling my house, I wanted to say goodbye this time, so that you didn't spend the rest of your lives wondering where I was and what had happened to me."

Ruth looked a little chastened and silence descended on them for a few moments as they each digested this.

Matt's wife, Lucy, was the one to break it. "Okay, so say you do go back and things change, will we even remember this conversation?"

"I don't know," Meg admitted. "I seem to be the only person who remembers how things used to be but I don't know if that's because I travelled in time, or because I just know about it and believe in it. But, since I am going back, and I wouldn't just run out on you again under any circumstances, I would assume that no matter what changes, we will have had this conversation in some form. And if I can find a way, I'll try and send a letter through time for you to find."

"Like the Doc did to Marty McFly?" Lucy smiled.

"I do not understand," Hal frowned.

"It's… like a play," Meg tried to explain. "One character ends up stranded in the past and gives a letter to a law firm to deliver in a hundred years' time. I'll try and do something like that but I have no idea if such a promise can last 600 years."

"And what if things don't change for the better?" Matt asked.

"We can't guarantee that," Meg admitted. "All I can tell you is that with Hal in the past, things here were good. Without him, everything's gone to hell."

"Can you really live in the past though?" Tony spoke up. "The disease, crime, poverty, brutality, to say nothing of the sexism."

"Meg shall rule by my side," Hal spoke up. "I may not understand your society but even I can see that conditions have greatly improved. I shall began by educating the young and listen to Meg's thoughts on all matters of import."

"But childbirth was so dangerous," Lucy added.

"I was hoping you might help me with that, Lucy," Meg spoke up. "If you could get your hands on a few hormone implants, then that could guarantee me three years between children."

"I'll see what I can do. How many do you need?" Lucy asked. She was a nurse at a Sexual Health Clinic.

"Would five be too much? Better too many than too few."

"No, I think that could be passed off as a mistake in stock taking or something. Besides, they're hardly class A drug."

"Thank you. And I'm going to try and take some medical and chemistry text books back," Meg added. "We can improve things like disease by making simple drugs, and teaching people how to keep conditions sanitary, pasteurisation, food preservation, sterilisation, that kind of thing."

"But if you do that, you'll change history," Ruth argued.

"For the better. Given the present we live in, can things really get any worse?" Meg asked.

"So what happens now?" Matt asked.

"I'll hand in my notice at work on Monday, then I have to work two weeks out. I also thought I'd transfer the house into Ruth and Matt's names and when it sells, you can split the profits. Or keep it and rent it out for some extra income."

"Shouldn't you go back now?" Lucy asked.

"Two weeks shall not my kingdom undo," Hal replied.

"Things move much slower in the past," Meg added. "It takes nearly a week to get a message to France, and the same again for a reply."

"Mum always said you were born too late," Matt said softly. "Remember, Ruth, with her head buried in all those Jane Austen and Jean Plaidy books, she always said Meggie was better suited to the Regency era."

"She did," Ruth replied, her stance softening somewhat. "She used to say that she'd never marry if she didn't stop pining over Mr Darcy."

"You had his poster on your wall, remember?" Matt asked.

"Remember? I still have it!" Meg laughed. "And I still have every available version on DVD."

Hal was looking from one to the other, trying to understand the conversation. "Mr Darcy was, what did you call it, an ex?"

"Mr Darcy is fictional," Meg said, taking his hand and giving him a tender smile. "I'll put it on for you to watch while I'm at work one day."

"So we're believing this story, are we?" Ruth asked.

"I don't see why not?" Matt replied with a smile, "If nothing else, it'll keep me entertained while I wait for my draft papers."

Meg returned home to find Hal sprawled on her sofa, his head buried in a book on the history of political theory, a massive, 600 page university textbook. He spent most of his days either reading, or ordering more books on her amazon account. She was surprised by his aptitude to the internet, having expected him to be a technophobe but although he didn't understand her explanations (which might be her fault) it hadn't proved a hindrance when using her computer.

She was also pleased by the reading he was doing. The books he chose were mostly of a sociological bent, covering topics such as politics, religion, equality and justice.

In the background he had Taylor Swift playing on her PM3 player and she had to smile as she thought of Henry V listening to pop music. She had introduced him to modern music gently, with people like Ellie Goulding, Sam Smith, Adele and John Legend but within a few hours he had mastered her iPod and found Imagine Dragons, Meghan Trainor, Taylor Swift and Bruno Mars, among others. It seemed he preferred more upbeat tunes, and she only had to imagine him humming Shake it Off at his court to improve her mood.

"Did you have a good day?" she asked as she bent to kiss him on her way to the kitchen.

"I am greatly intrigued by this idea of democracy, however I fail to see how it can be implemented in my time."

"Maybe it can't yet, but you can increase parliament's size and powers so you can more easily address your people's problems."

"Hmm," he went back to reading for a while, then slipped the bookmark in once he finished the chapter and went to find her in the kitchen.

"Thou appears tired."

"Long day," she admitted. "Tea?"

"Please."

"The solicitor called, the transfer documents for the house should come through in a few days."

"Come hither." He turned her around and pulled her against him. "Thou art working too hard."

"It's not that, Hal. It's the war. Everyone is affected by it and the atmosphere just feels so… bleak and oppressive."

"Come now, Meg, you know that everything shall be restored once we return."

"But we won't know, will we? The moment we go back, we won't know what the future holds, because everything we do might change it."

"In faith though, is that not best? Too much insight into one's future could corrupt, or make us conceited and overconfident. No, all we can do is our best, which is all anyone can ask of us."

"I don't know about you," she sighed, "but I think I'm ready to go."

"And I. Thy books arrived today."

She had ordered chemistry textbooks and a couple of family/home health handbooks, which she would look through and pick the most helpful to take back with her. She had also ordered books on organic farming, hoping for tips on raising efficient and disease free crops, without the use of modern chemicals, which she wouldn't have access to in the past.

For his part, Hal had begun to speak of the possibility of educating the population, and at least teaching children the basics of reading, writing and simple maths, while Meg suggested adding basic hygiene, sanitation and health tips.

Already while she should be working, she was thinking of how to word lessons on things such as pasteurisation, meat preparation and the prevention of diseases. They had to be brief as printing was expensive, yet also comprehensive and easily explained, so the lessons were not misunderstood.

She pulled away and smiled up at him.

"How about you, how are you enjoying modern life?"

"I took a walk this morning. You have an abundance of small dogs in this time," he said with a confused smile. "Do you have many problems with rats?"

"No, they're pets, kept for companionship rather than ratting," she explained as she made the tea.

"Thy customs are most strange, although I will admit that thy food and drink greatly exceeds the quality of our time."

"Hang on, didn't royalty used to keep exotic animals at the Tower of London? What were they if not pets?"

"One can hardly pet a tiger."

"True," she agreed.

They took their drinks into her living room and settled on the couch.

"I confess, I will miss your soft furnishings," he said as she cuddled into him. "Sprung mattresses especially."

"I'll miss central heating," she admitted. "And hot running water."

"And toilets. An ingenious invention."

"Eh, I'll miss the toilet paper more," Meg countered. "How many roles of Andrex do you think we can carry back with us?" she teased.

"Not nearly enough. Art thou certain thou are ready to go return with me. It shall mean much hardship for thee"

She gasped. "You're the one who started lamenting what you'll miss!"

"Ah, but thou takes all this for granted while for me, tis but a pleasant dream."

She smiled tenderly. "As long as I can take you for granted, I can do without everything else."

"Always, my love. And I thee?"

"Of course." She grinned. "Hey, is this a proposal?"

"Proposal of what?"

"Marriage."

"I thought that had been decided already but if thou wishes, I shall ask."

"Wouldn't you ask normally?"

"I would usually ask thy father but since thy parents are no longer living, and I have a feeling you might reproach me something fierce were I were to ask thy brother, I shall ask you directly." He put his tea down and got onto one knee. "I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, I love you, Meg, for thou hast bewitched me, mind, body and soul." He held his hand out. "And so what say you, fair lady, wilt thou have me?"

She put her hand in his. "Yes." A hand hold wasn't enough, so Meg threw her arms around him and held tightly. "A thousand times, yes!"

Hal grinned. "I shall announce it as soon as we return and we will shall be wed at the first opportunity."

Meg loosened her grip just enough to look at him. "Let's celebrate, and make the most of bed springs while we can."

Hal laughed and jumped to his feet, picking Meg up in a bridal carry.

"You have the best ideas, my dearest."

On the Friday when they were to return, Hal and Meg met her siblings near Westminster Abbey to share breakfast and say goodbye. They had seen each other regularly since Meg and Hal revealed the truth, and just yesterday at the solicitor's office to sign the transfer the deeds to change the ownership of Meg's house into her siblings' names.

Hal could tell that while they were going along with everything and were curious, like he hadn't, they didn't truly believe Meg was about to leave them.

Hal and Meg had a backpack full of the books they wanted to take, Hal had brought tomes on politics and justice, while Meg's choices were more along the lines of 'how to' guides, family medicine and a book on Catholicism. Her conversion would be the biggest barrier to their union but Meg had been doing her homework, reading as much on the faith as she could.

Given how much she had learned, Hal was certain that the Archbishop of Canterbury would allow Meg to have her first communion and confirmation with little trouble, teaching her himself if necessary since in return, Hal could promise to delay the bill that parliament wanted passed, to disendow the Church.

Hal was dressed in the garments he had arrived in, although his dagger was stored in the backpack they were taking with them. Meg was dressed similarly to the first time he had seen her, in modern yet modest clothes.

The meal was awkward and discussion stilted, while the short walk to the abbey afterwards was almost silent. Meg hugged and said goodbye to her siblings on the street, since the atmosphere inside might be stifling, and Meg began to cry.

"I love you," she told them both, and they assured her the same and once that was done, they headed into the ambulatory, where they chair was kept.

Meg hugged her brother and sister once more, and Matt made Hal promise to take care of her, then after waiting for a lull in traffic, he and Meg climbed the small platform and Hal sat down, with Meg on his lap.

They were both anxious, having no reason to believe that this would work, only hope and faith that whatever had brought them here, would return them.

Hal bowed his head and said a small payer and when he opened his eyes, they were alone.

"It worked," Hal whispered.

"We're home," she added.

Hal turned his head to look at her.

"Home," he agreed.

"My Lord, where hast thou been?" York demanded as Meg and Hal entered the palace. "You went to the Abbey to pray and that was the last anyone saw of thee! Everyone has been going mad with worry."

"My apologies if I worried you, cousin, but when we returned from France I had an epiphany of sorts. Whilst praying, I realised that Meg was meant to be my wife and I had to go to her, immediately. It was rash and thoughtless of me but I was suddenly overcome with the burning need to bring the Lady Meg home."

York's posture had softened as Hal spoke but whether that was from relief that his friend was safe, or his words, Meg couldn't tell.

"Thou art to be married?" York smiled.

"We are," Hal took her hand. "I know that with Meg by my side, England will be unstoppable. Our kingdom shall be a realm that celebrates all that is good and right and just. A beacon of greatness in this oft dark world."

"That does indeed sound grand." York nodded. "And if God gave you this epiphany, then none shall dare question it. Shall I inform the Archbishop of Canterbury?"

"Please do, for we must speak with him urgently."

"Welcome home, Sire."

"Tis good to be home, cousin. I assume the Lady Meg's things are still in her room?"

"Everything is as you left it, Sire."

"Good." He embraced York. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to have you back."

It took six weeks to be married. Six weeks during which Meg could not be alone with Hal without an attendant. She studied day and night until the Archbishop was pleased with her. The archbishop wanted to know her existing faith but assuring him that she was Christian wasn't enough. She could hardly say that she was Church of England (in this time he almost literally was the church of England) and so thinking on her feet, she told him she was CofE. Or Ceovy, as he came to call it.

Despite her natural inclination to question and debate what she was taught, she didn't not allow herself that luxury. Once she was Queen she could question the status quo but for now, she kept her own council on the things she objected to.

Besides, she knew she would not change this man's mind and would only succeed in hindering her own plans to marry Hal, and her duty as Queen was to the country and its people, not to the church. Her conscience could live with her silence but her soul could not thrive without Hal.

Who or whatever it was that brought her to Hal, did so for a reason, and she had faith that as long as she did her best, only good could come from their union.

Luckily in these times, weddings were simple affairs, even royal weddings and given how modest Hal was, their wedding was far less grand than some of his predecessors.

After the wedding, Hal and Meg slowly walked back to the castle,stopping to speak to those who had turned out to watch the royal couple. Hal thanked them for their well wishes and they looked upon him with reverence, much as they always had but now, also with respect.

By the afternoon, although the feast continued within and outside the castle walls, Hal and Meg were free to consummate their union, although the revelry, could still be heard as they lay sated for a while, and Meg laughed.

"Something amuses thee?" Hal asked.

Meg raised her head and propped it up on her elbow. "I was just thinking about the first night I met you," she admitted.

"Oh?"

"I didn't like you much," she admitted.

"Say tis not so!" he gasped, teasing her.

"You were a jerk!" she laughed. "Charming but still a jerk. I remember watching you tease poor Francis and I thought you a rather cruel bully."

"And now, what dost thou think of me?"

"I think you have the common touch."

He frowned.

"The ability to talk with commoners," she explained. "I think your time among them helped you understand them, no? And in understanding them, you'll better know what they need and how to best rule them."

He looked slightly shamed. "That is one way to think of it but I confess, I was simply trying to enjoy myself."

"That kind of rebellion is normal in my time," she assured him. "It's a way for children to break away from their parents and forge their own identities. For what it's worth, the experience has done you good, for this afternoon I saw you speak with simple farriers and barmen, as easily as with the lords in your court."

"And pray tell, how did someone with this common touch, find himself such an uncommon wife?"

"Don't ask me," Meg held her hand up. "Maybe because when I was younger, I used to have a crush on Prince Harry and the universe misunderstood."

"A crush?"

"A… he took my fancy."

"Ah," he grinned. "It seems thou has a penchant for royal blood."

"Maybe once, but King Harry is better than Prince Harry anyway. Besides, I love you, your nobility and your good heart, not your title. Although I have to admit, that beard you've grown helped your case a lot."

Hal shook his head as if exasperated with her, but he was smiling.

"Then I shall know exactly how to blackmail you in the future."

Meg gasped and clutched her heart theatrically. "You wouldn't!"

"I would."

"Then if you shave the beard, I shall shave my head."

He laughed. "One thing is certain, life shall never be dull with thee around, Meg."

"Eh," she shrugged. "You're a king, you can handle it."

"And thou art a queen, so does that mean you can handle me again," he murmured seductively.

"We haven't shared a bed in over four weeks." Meg reached under the covers and grasped his length. "I'm more than ready for round two."

"Then I shall indulge thee, my Queen."