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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years ago

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Transcending Time || CL16

Charles Leclerc x princess!reader Summary: Destined to be together, you and Charles’ love transcends time to find one another again and finally get the future you never had - the one with a happy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, death (see Trigger Warning in hashtags), angst, fluff. WC: 3.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three

Monaco, 1662 “One day, princess, we will board a ship and find a place of our own somewhere far away,” Charles promised as he watched the sails on the horizon, his chin resting on your shoulder as you sat between his legs. In his arms was the one place you could be yourself, not the royal that was put on parade to the public. In his arms you could dream of a world where you could love him freely.

But for now you had to hide, keeping your rendezvous a secret and stealing the moments whenever you could.

You had fallen for Charles the moment you saw him stumbling with his arms full of ledgers, the papers catching the breeze that had rolled into the mariner and raining down on your head as you giggled. He hadn’t even looked up before insulting you for your rudeness and suggesting you get down on the ground and help him retrieve his father’s work as penance.

Your next laugh was hardly the ladylike sound expected of you and when he looked up his green eyes had widened in realisation.

“My apologies, princess, please forgive me,” he had pleaded as he bowed his head muttering, “I am stupid. I am stupid.”

“Blaireau?” you repeated the word he had used and his cheeks reddened. “You called me a badger?”

He scratched the back of his neck nervously and gave the smallest shake of his head. “Not quite, princess.”

That was the first of many insults he taught you since slang was not something your governess had approved of in your schooling. He had taught you a good deal about life outside the palace, but his greatest lesson had been how to love. Love had been foreign from your life until he had stumbled into it and stolen your heart, giving you his in return.

Charles kissed your shoulder and a smile teased your lips and you leaned back into his embrace. “Would life as a clerk’s wife suffice her royal highness?”

“You could shovel manure from the stables for all I care, so long as I am your wife,” you said as you turned in his arms and pushed him onto his back. “Where you go, I go.”

He looked up at you bathed in the warm afternoon sun and adoration filled the smile he saved just for you, the one that brought out the dimples in his cheeks. “One day, princess.”

“Please, mama, I have never once asked you for anything,” you begged as you grabbed her hand over the table, but the former Crown Princess of Monaco looked away with a shake of her head and slipped her hand from your grasp. Desperation grew as you looked to your brother, the Crown Prince of Monaco since your father passed earlier that year, sitting at the head seat. “Louis, don’t do this, please, I love him.”

“That is why I must, dear sister,” Louis uttered as he took a sip of his wine and returned to cutting his roast quail. “You were born to marry a prince, not the son of a clerk.”

You slammed your hands on the table as you rose to your feet. “I was born to love Charles, and I will die loving him too.”

Louis growled and his cutlery clattered as he tossed them on his plate, his short temper snapping. “Charles will hang on the morrow and that is final. There will be no more traipsing to the marketplace, there will be no more fraternising with those filthy commoners you are so fond of, or you will meet the same fate.”

Your chest puffed with the deep breath you took and when you exhaled a sense of calm settled in your soul. With quiet conviction you looked Louis in the eyes, and he frowned as he saw the fight leave your eyes. “I already have.”

You left the dining hall in a trance, your feet carrying you down the staircase and out of the front doors that the footmen opened at your approach.

Heads turned as you left the palace alone, a princess did not leave unaccompanied. Ladies stared as you grabbed the layers of skirts and lifted them off the dirty streets, a princess did not show her stockings. People gasped in shock as you shook your tiara from your head and broke into a run, never looking back.

His figure was hidden in the shadows as he lay on the rotten hay that had been dumped in the corner. The dank scents of the prison curdled the contents of your stomach and you pressed your wrist to your nose, inhaling the delicate perfume that had been dabbed there as you had been dressed for the disastrous dinner.

“Charles.”

His spine stiffened at the soft sound of your voice before he rolled over and sat up slowly. The moonlight filtering in through the small window illuminated the bruises that turned his sun kissed skin purple and sealed one eye shut completely.

“Princess,” he whispered in reverence as he surged forward, only to be thrown to the stone floor when the chain cuffed to his ankle snapped taut from where it was anchored to the wall.

“Charles!” You reached through the metal bars but your fingers could only brush his. “I’m here. Where you go, I go.”

He shook his head as he pulled himself up and stretched his leg so he could be as close as possible to you. “Not this time, my love.”

“Yes, dammit, every time!” you exclaimed as you pressed your head to the cold iron bars and choked on the sob that escaped. “I’ll not live in a world without you in it, Charles.”

“You have to.” His voice was hoarse from days without water and you wished you had thought to bring him some. “I’ll never find peace otherwise. I have to know you lived, and that you found happiness again, I know you can do it.”

“I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t. You make me happy, Charles, only you.” You pulled yourself back to your feet and called to the guard stationed at the end of the hall. “Open the gate.”

“He’s been imprisoned at your brother’s order, your highness, I can’t let him go.”

You grabbed the ring of keys hanging from his hip and thrust it against his chest. “Louis est un blaireau. Lock me inside.”

The guard blanched as you used the commoners tongue to call the Crown Prince an asshole before quickly recovering and unlocking the gate. “Let me know when you are ready to leave, your highness.” The metal gate grated sharply as it closed behind you, the keys jangling when he turned them and locked you inside.

You would never be ready.

A chill unlike any you had felt before seeped into your bones as you sat between Charles’ legs, his arms trying to share the only warmth he had to offer as they held you tight. There were no hot coals to warm the air or any comforts you were used to in the palace but you wouldn’t have traded them if it meant leaving his embrace.

You couldn’t even hazard a guess as to how far it was to dawn, but the light of the moon had faded as it passed the window and darkness shrouded the room.

Charles’ breathing was laboured in your ear and you silently cursed your brother for the beating he had ordered. All he had ever done was love you and for that he would pay the ultimate price, because you were a princess.

“My governess took me to the theatre once,” you murmured quietly. The gift had been a farewell present when you came of age and her services were no longer required, it had been mere weeks before you met Charles. “I cannot even remember the name of the play now but it was a lovers' tragedy, forbidden from seeing each other. I laughed at the preposterous idea that two people would rather die than live without the other.”

You laughed bitterly at the memory of your younger self and the naivety the sheltered girl had held before sighing. “If I were low born, how things would be different.”

“If I were a prince, how things would be different,” Charles chuckled in your ear. “But we are not, my love. Perhaps in another life we will find one another again and have the time we are owed.”

Watery light crept along the walls as dawn broke the horizon. “I’ll hold that thought in my heart.”

An escort of guards arrived not long after sunrise and you turned to Charles, memorising the sharp line of his jaw and how it was shaped to fit your hands. You combed his dark hair back from his face and pressed your forehead to his as you promised you would be with him to the end.

“Yes, Charles,” you growled as he shook his head. “My mind is made up and nothing can change it.” You took his hand and placed it over your heart. “This only beats for you.”

His tears mixed with yours as he pulled you close one last time and surrendered himself to the fate your kiss had brought. “I love you, princess,” he whispered against your lips and a soft shudder rocked your body as you feared regret would lace those words but there was only warmth in his tone. “That will never change, I swear on my life.”

The guards had pulled you apart and dragged Charles away, using their bodies as a wall to keep you from following. “Prince Louis has forbidden your presence in the square.”

Forbidden, there was that word again.

“Then I shall take my leave.” You turned your back and made your way to the stairs in the opposite direction, the guards remaining in position in case you should return. Up and up, higher and higher you climbed the worn steps, ignoring the shouts of the prisoners you passed along the way.

Your lungs burned when you finally reached the top and stepped out into the fresh air, the salt of the seabreeze erasing the damp scent that clung to everything inside. Far below you could see your brother sitting upon a stage opposite the gallows, a look of boredom on his face until the guards appeared with Charles between them.

“For crimes against the Crown, Charles, Notary at Hervé & Sons…”

The wind stole the heralder’s words away as he condemned Charles for falling in love, information that would die with him at your brother's behest. No one could ever know that a commoner bedded a princess and that the crime against the crown they spoke of was actually holy matrimony.

The air left your lungs as the thick rope noose was thrown over Charles’ head and you took a step forward, your bare feet no longer feeling the cold stones as your toes hung over the precipice of the prison.

Charles looked around for you as the hangman reached for the trapdoor release and he spotted you as the sun crested the horizon and warmed your back in its glow.

“Where you go, I go,” you promised.

Just like you had the first day you met him, you fell.

Monaco, 2023 “She’s zoned out again,” Louis sighed as he snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Hello? The drivers will be here any moment so you need to focus.”

For as long as you could remember you had these episodes, entire days were wasted away as you sat on the bay window of your room overlooking the mariner. It was like you were a prisoner in your own mind, lost and wandering in search of something you couldn’t find.

“Why must I be here?” you asked as you pushed your brother’s hand away from your face. “You watch the sport, not me.”

“It is tradition, dear sister,” he muttered as he fixed his tie. “There have always been two of us to welcome them to our beautiful home and with father no longer here that responsibility falls on you. So smile for the cameras, and whatever you do, don’t zone out.”

The doors to the palace opened and the 20 guests filed in pairs but movement at your side drew your attention away. Louis had bounced on the balls of his feet and you rolled your eyes at his excitement.

“Mother will be displeased,” you tutted under your breath. “The crown prince does not get excited, the crown prince is composed at all times.”

“This isn’t the dark ages,” he shot back before peering out the corner of his eyes. “You sound just like her.”

“Asshole, I do not!” Your elbow took a shot at his ribs but he just managed to deflect it away with his arm and a cocky snicker. “You’re going to pay for saying that.”

A warm laugh filled the air and your heart skipped a beat, the sense of familiarity stealing your focus from Louis. You found yourself watching the water once more through the open door, the ships sailing by on the breeze and longing tugged at you to follow.

“This here is our very own Monégasque, he’s even garnered the title of the People’s Prince of Monaco.”

Only one word caught your attention and you broke away from the sight outside to see who it was Louis was introducing you to. “Prince?”

“People’s Prince,” Louis clarified with a chuckle. “Charles Leclerc.”

“Leclerc? That is an old family name,” you murmured as it tugged at the recesses of your memory but you couldn’t remember why. You peered up at the man to find two striking green eyes staring back from a handsome face. “Has your family always been in Monaco?”

“Yes, as far as I know, princess,” he said politely as he gave a little bow. “How about you?” A laugh trickled down the line behind him and his cheeks burned red as he muttered, “I am stupid. I am stupid.”

“As far as I know, prince,” you teased gently.

“Shall I call a doctor?” Louis whispered as the Monegasque moved on and a Frenchman replaced him. “That was an actual smile.”

“Shut up, before you need to call one to fix your nose,” you shot back with a scowl.

“There she is,” he chuckled. “All is right in the world once more.”

“I’m done here.” The dress was suddenly too restricting and you stepped back from the man whose name you hadn’t caught, slipping away from the arm Louis tried to loop through yours to hold you still.

You heard Louis’ sigh as you disappeared behind the pillars and knew you would be due a lecture when they left. “Excuse her, she doesn’t do well with engagements.”

They nodded understandably and one commented that it must have been why you were rarely seen in public. No one would know it was because of the episodes or how they couldn’t trust your behaviour in front of the cameras. You were too erratic and unpredictable. One moment you could be the perfect princess your mother had hoped for and the next you felt like the world deserved to burn and you were ready to light it up.

Try as your mother might, she had yet to find anyone who could fix you. From psychiatrists to hypnotists, she had hired them all but no amount of medication and therapy had helped.

The moment you were free of the room you kicked off your heels and grabbed the skirt of your dress before breaking into a run. There was something freeing about going fast and it helped to draw air into your lungs when you felt as if you were slowly suffocating.

You lost yourself to the endless halls that navigated the enormous palace, direction not mattering as you let the fates decide where you ended up. You didn’t even notice that your feet had brought you in a full circle back towards the front entrance until the door to mens bathroom opened and someone stepped out, his head down as he focused on sliding a ring onto his finger.

You were on a collision course and dropped the material of your skirt from your hands to try catch yourself but all you did was get your feet tangled before crashing into him. You both went tumbling to the polished floor and a hiss of pain erupted as your ankle twisted at an odd angle.

“Son of a bitch,” you groaned and the man sat up with a pat of his body to check he was in one piece before he looked at you and those green eyes widened.

“Princess? What…oh my god! Are you alright?” Charles scrambled across the space and carefully lifted your foot off the floor, the movement making your face pinch in pain.

“Ow, I think it’s broken.”

“I don’t think it’s broken, but it might be sore for a few days.” He looked up and down the empty hall. “Should I go get help?”

“No, no doctors. Just help me to stand up, please,” you asked as you placed your hands on his shoulders and his hands fell to your waist, the warmth of his palms reaching your skin through the material.

“What were you running from?”

“Life?” You looked down the long hall lined with portraits of your ancestors, their beady eyes staring back with judgement. “It’s so slow here, I just need to go fast sometimes, or I’ll go crazy. That probably sounds stupid.”

“No,” he chuckled as he shook his head. “That makes sense to me. Can you try walking on it?”

“Fuck,” you grunted as you put weight on the joint. “No, not really.” You nearly fell again as you tried to balance on one foot but Charles’ hands stabilised you before that happened.

“Okay, uh, I’m not going to get the guillotine for touching you, right, princess?” he joked nervously as he curled his arm around your waist and took most of your weight.

You smiled weakly as his words started an ache in your chest you couldn’t explain. “Not this century at least.”

“That’s good to know,” he said with a flirty grin and suddenly the pain was gone. “Come to think of it, if you want to go fast I could take you for a lap of the circuit. It’s got to be safer than these dangerous halls.”

“So hazardous, it’s a miracle I survived this long.” You giggled at the thought, the sound absolutely foreign to your own ears, and once you started you couldn’t stop.

His lips parted with a wide smile as he listened to your laugh and he nodded to himself. “It’s settled then, princess.”

You rolled your eyes at the title you had never wanted but somehow on his lips it sounded sweet. “I do have a name, prince.”

“I know,” he winked. “Come on, princess.”

“I don’t exactly have a choice, do I?” You looked at your injured foot hovering safely off the ground. “Where you go, I go.”

Click here for part two.

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