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thecclover-fanfictions · 6 days ago

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On The Depth Of The Sea

Grabbing the steel doorframe with both his hands Charles scrambled over the step out of the small cloakroom. Under normal circumstances he had felt disgusted to death by bending his head over the toilet pan and to spew heavily into the loo, which hundreds of his comrades used day by day.

But on this day he not even realised this. And if he had, it wouldn´t matter. Nothing didn´t matter anymore. Absolutely nothing.

Under wavering steps he reached his cabin. Automatically he shut the door, automatically he went over to his little washbasin and automatically he switched on the water. The cold runlet at his hands let him wake up a little. At least that little to bent down and refresh his face and sluice out his mouth.

One hand steadied on the washbasin and the other hand grabbed the towel to dry his face. His view caught the table in the mirror and a small edge of a cream coloured paper reflected. And now Charles was fully aware again where exactly the heavy pain inside his body arose from. The pain that became so heavy with one fast jerk, that his body let run riot immediately and let him storm out to the gross toilet to empty his stomach.

It was his heart. Or at least the place where his heart still was just minutes before. Now there just was a tattered hole, everything inside seemed to be shredded, it felt bleeding, deep dark and sore. And this hole and the pains, which he couldn´t find words for, slowly spread over his whole body.

Charles knew, it wouldn´t get better now. But as if by magic he was pulled over to the table again to look at the paper. He couldn´t concentrate on the written text, everything seemed to be like in a fog. But a few words stuck out. Dark, sharp and clear: “the engagement of Mr. Andrew Parker Bowles to Ms. Camilla Shand”.

Anything around Charles started to swirl. He breathed heavily. At the edge of the table he tried to find hold, but his arms almost give away and his knees were heavily shaking. The pain from his left side had reached his right side, his thorax was laced in and compressed, it started to darken everywhere. Air! His brain screamed to him! Fresh air!

Waving and shaking Charles tried to rush over to the small bull´s eye. As fast as he could. And with each of his steps he left behind a trace of energy, vitality and light. It just flooded out of his body, slowly but definitely.

He yanked open the bull´s eye and with his hand still at the knob he deeply breathed in the very small breeze of fresh air. But somehow this wasn´t enough. Somehow it left him feel worse. The more he breathed, the more his chest was compressed. He tried to stretch out his head, but all what he felt was more darkness, more stifling air and as if he`d sink down to the depths of the sea, unable to move or to do anything.

His feet wouldn´t carry him any longer, still heavy gasping he shut the bull´s eye. Then a part of his brain told him to do it, as it probably would be better to hide anything in here from his comrades outside.

Charles sunk down on the bed and buried his head into his hands. His pair of lungs were filled with cement, his chest burned and pained, his arms and legs felt so incredible heavy and his head was somehow stuck into a clamp.

HE HAD LOST HER!

Charles felt like he had to cry now. But there were no tears, no sobbing, his body was just frozen into pain. And not only his body. His brain couldn´t work as well. He just had this one horrible sentence in front of his eyes: “the engagement of Mr. Andrew Parker Bowles to Ms. Camilla Shand”.

Suddenly a huge blind rage arose in him, very quickly it climbed up inside and let his body almost explode now. Charles jumped up and hit his fist heavy on the steel table top. It ached really much, the pang climbed up his arm to his shoulder, but it pushed aside the pain in his chest. At least a little.

Charles hit the table top again. Harder and harder his fist punched down. Somehow this freed his body out of the rigidity and his chest out of the iron clasps. He had bit his lower lip all the time, he could taste the blood in his mouth. But he didn´t care. And he didn´t care for his dark red fist, his meanwhile stiff arm and his injured, bloody knuckles.

But eventually this kind of pain let something lose inside him. Finally he could breathe again, finally his pair of lungs were filled with air again.

And now it started to come out of him. He almost reared up, his hands grabbed his head, he squinted his eyes and his mouth opened wide.

His brain told him to go down on his knees, a millisecond later he had buried his head into the bed sheet and screamed. Jerkily, desperately and loud. The more he screamed, the more his fist hit down on the bed.

He didn´t know how long he stayed in this condition. But slowly his screams turned into short yells, quieter and more powerless, until he finally remained silent.

He still kneeled on the floor, his arms and hands dangled powerless over the edge of the bed and he had turned aside his heavy blushed face. He just stared to the end of his bed, but his eyes didn´t see the real world.

His eyes just saw his wonderful, bubbly girlfriend who laughed and smiled heartily to him. But he couldn´t reach her. He could see her face clearly, but at the same time she seems to be so far away, almost hidden in a cloud, and if he tried to near to her she moved away again.

Determined Charles jumped up. He had to convince himself again. He grabbed the paper and…his aching chest felt as if a red-hot broad knife was stabbed into his shredded heart and slowly turned around. Quickly he let fall the letter back on the table, covered his eyes with his lower arm and turned away. With his other arm he steadied against the steel wall of his small ship cabin and tried to catch a clear thought.

His mind was more than confused, memories of her and their wonderful time, his dreams and hopes and his greatest fears crossed in a whirlwind.

But one single thought came out of the chaos again. It was the horrible thing he was afraid of since meeting her for the first time: HE HAD LOST HER! SHE WAS GONE! AWAY FROM HIM!

Charles steadied with both hands against the wall now and panted again. He felt sooo weak. Weak from spewing, weak from his fury outburst, weak from the pain inside him and weak from this terrible news. He had to go down on the floor again and leaned his upper body over the seat of the steel chair.

Deeply he breathed in again and again. He clenched his fists and loudly grumbled. Desperately he tried to be angry about her, but he just couldn´t. Neither he could be angry about Andrew.

There was just one person, he had to be angry about. It was he himself!

He had ignored the signs. And he had ignored reality. He hadn´t prevented that she would go. He had to bear the blame that his life was ruined, that he himself was ruined and bled to death. And he had to bear the blame that another man had snatched away his girl. The woman of his dreams. His soul mate. His best friend. His mind-blowing lover. His beautiful future bride…

Nooo, not his future bride. ANDREW´S BRIDE! Charles´s fingers clawed into his forehead, his elbows steadied on the seat. In his mind he screamed loud to himself what an ignorant loser he was. Lightheaded he just was convinced, that anything would fall into the right place. Yes, it had…but just for Andrew!

Camilla always was honest with him. From the beginning on. She had told him that she still felt for Andrew. Very different to the feelings for him, Charles. But there still was something. And he knew that she was uncomfortable in his own stiff, overfraught and way too luxury world. She scared the public eye. He hadn´t mind to take her with him to a few of his engagements, but she preferred to wait for him in her flat or, sometimes, in his palace apartement. She wasn´t very keen of the dozens of staff members constantly around.

But she loved to be in the private atmosphere of Birkhall or Balmoral or Broadlands with Uncle Dickie. She loved the country life. He had recognized her longing looks, if small children were around. She loved to be in the garden, to be on a horse`s back, to wear her Wellingtons, just to be Charles and Camilla…

But he hadn´t told her that he wanted to give her all of this.

He just hadn´t told her that he would do anything for her to feel comfortable. That he could buy a farm house for them, that he would try to keep her out of the public, at least for the first years… That he would fight against Uncle Dickie´s and Grannie`s sentiment that she was not grand enough to be a princess.

And above all he hadn´t told her that she should wait for him…BECAUSE HE WANTED TO MARRY HER!

He had ignored the special expression of her eyes as she stood here in this cabin to say goodbye to him in Plymouth. She had grabbed both his hands tightly and told him that he should use this time to learn. As much as he could. About the world, people and life. And that after his Navy time he´d knew better what he wanted in life. And what would be the right for him.

…and that he never should forget that she loves him deeply. Always. No matter what would happen…

And now Charles understood. Her eyes, her sad eyes, had told him everything. Her last kiss had told him everything. She had kissed him in a way, as if there would be no tomorrow…long, deep, desperate, with all her love.

In her letters she had written to him about her life now. And that Andrew had invited her to go out a few times…

Charles had ignored all this, but he knew now. And now his life got just out of his hands.

The more he tried to find hold on the shabby chair, the more he had the feeling to glide down, to lose his grip, it was as he would fall to pieces. He had no power, no energy…Everything around him seemed so grey, pale and totally unimportant. His days in the sun were gone. He sunk down more to the depth of the sea.

And slowly, or better finally, a huge lump built up in his throat. He got a huge pressure in his head, his eyes were blurry and he felt dizzy.

Gasping for air again like a fish out of the water he crawled over to the single small shelf in the cabin. He couldn´t walk, his knees were jelly, he just felt too weak.

He had to see her face! He had to see her eyes to stay alive, no matter if it would kill him now! At least the pain would be over then…

On all four legs he fished out her framed picture out of the shelf and steadied on the bed again. She smiled to him brightly, open and full of love. Her eyes sparkled as ever and had this mischievous touch that he loved sooo much!

Both of his hands clawed into the frame, he started to shaking heavily again, his face blushed and he contorted his face in his heart pain. Oh, how much he loved her! And how much he missed her!

He could feel a single tear running down his cheek, but he still couldn´t cry. Out of his mouth just came scary sounds, but his throat still felt constricted. The lump in it grew and grew, but it just couldn´t lose.

Hastily he jerked out the box under his bed and tossed away the lid. He grabbed out a few of her letters and just stared at her handwriting. He wasn´t able to reread them anyway, his brain wouldn´t understand one of her words now.

But what he still could recognize, was her last sentence at the end of each letter: “Love you forever, darling”.

Charles started to sob now. Yes, it was true. He just knew that it was true. She loved him, deeply. But this let the pain just grow. To know that she still loved him, but would marry another man. This thought stabbed him the next red-hot knife into his bleeding heart wound.

He tossed back the letters into the box and grabbed out a few of the photographs.

With a grimacing face in his pain he still managed to smile in wonderful memories by watching the photos. But he didn´t realise that meanwhile his cheeks were full of tears, that slowly his body was ready to let it all out.

He watched at them both sitting on the sofa in her parent´s house arm in arm, Camilla doing some breakfast in her flat wearing one of his shirts, Camilla wrapped in a thick shawl and a quilted jacket in the woods around Birkhall, the both of them in swimwear during their holidays in Greece…on all of this photos she looked so happy, relaxed and in love with him.

And now Camilla naked…he bit on his lips and snorted through his teary nose. He loved this photo so much. He had needed some time to convince her of doing the picture. But he promised her that nobody beside the developer of the photo would ever see it.

She leaned on one side in his bed in Buckingham Palace, her arms crossed over her stomach and her legs angled. He could watch a glimpse of the cute triangle between her legs and her full breasts almost stared at him in perfection. She lightly smiled into the camera with a shy expression, but her eyes were full of trust in him.

And finally it hit him like a hammer now. He would never ever again kiss her as her lover, he would never ever again have her in his arms, he would never ever again caress every part of her body and make love to her, he even would never ever again say to her: “I love you.”

But he needed this so much! He needed her so very much! He couldn´t stay alive without her! Losing her had tear a huge hole into him, nobody would ever be able to fill it out again! Nobody would ever fill this emptiness! And nobody would ever love him as she did: entirely, unassuming, candid, just taking him the way he was.

And he would never love someone else so deeply again. He had given her all his heart, there hardly was space for someone else. He just knew it. And he decided it. Certain and irretrievable.

Gently his fingers traced along the outline of her naked body on the photo. As he reached her face, he bent down to kiss her. And as he sobbed: “I love you!” he just gave up. Everything inside him gave up. He just broke down.

Hot, salty tears run down his face in a large, unending flow. He just now was able to dry her photo before he would destroy it with his tears.

And then he just dunk down on his bed. Powerless, broken, exhausted. He just cried, cried and cried. He made forlorn sounds, he sobbed heavily and breathed for air. He desperately turned around and doubled up again. But there was no relief. The place where his heart was, ached more and more, so much that he wasn´t able to move now. Stock-still he laid on his back and cried now without realising it any longer.

But something was clear to him now.

She just couldn´t wait for him. There simply was no chance. He never would able to marry before his training had ended. And only God knows, when it would be. Maybe in three years, maybe five, maybe ten years…

She needed a home. Now. She just couldn´t live in her girls flat any longer. She wasn´t eighteen any more. She needed someone who would care for her. Reliable. She needed something real. Not something she could hope for in the far future. And what wasn´t safe anyway… He was still half-baked. Andrew was not. She needed everything he just couldn´t give her now. Beside his love. She just needed the things Andrew would give her now.

Charles knew, this was just the beginning. He would feel her loss more and more day by day. Maybe the pain would never end. Maybe he would feel empty the rest of his life. He didn´t know. He didn´t know anything now. And he didn´t care. He couldn´t care for anything.

Watching into nowhere he cried all of the tears he had for this day, not as desperate as before, just constantly and quiet. He had placed his hand on her photo and slowly he glided into a dark, dreamless sleep. Not for resting, not for recovering. His body just switched out to stay alive.

But what he didn´t know and didn´t feel this day, it was the very little part in him that would hope and fight for her. The little part that would grow day by day ,against all odds, and never would give up.

#queen camilla #king charles lll #fanfiction #thecclover

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thecclover-fanfictions · 21 days ago

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A Rather Different Day

Lovingly Bruce watered the flowers arranged round the picture of Rosalind, sighed and remained a short moment to watch her smiling at him. Now and then he talked to her, told her some news or just mumbled that he missed her.

But there wasn´t anything exciting to tell today. Half an hour ago his eldest daughter had called him from Clarence House for a short chat. Charles was out for some engagements and she wanted to use the day for doing early Christmas shopping and asked for Bruce´s wish. Actually he had no wishes beside health, peace and happiness in the family. And Christmas was still weeks ahead.

But life of his daughter had changed that much that she couldn´t live without an exactly planning. Meanwhile she run an own small office with two secretaries, was patron of a few charities and often accompanied Charles to official events. But she seemed to enjoy it and Bruce even dared to believe that she was happy.

His life in contrast was rather quiet by now. He would go out to check the garden and to water some plants in his glasshouse. Then he will have a small lunch, enjoy a nap and wait for the call of his daughter Annabel later. In the afternoon he would read a book, while the TV sounds in the background. Slowly the day would smooth into the night and he would scuffle into his bedroom until he´d get up in the early morning again.

Moaning Bruce slipped into his worn out Wellington´s, his back and his knees had really seen better days. His daughters tried to convince him to have a gardener, and he easily could afford one. But gardening was one of the things that kept him alive. As long as he was able to go down on his knees he would make his hands dirty.

He tried to angle his gardening jacket down from the coat rack as the telephone rung. Bruce was confused. It was too early for Annabel, Mark was elsewhere on this planet, his friends would just call him in the evening, so it was probably just someone trying to sell him stupid things.

In his boots Bruce walked over to the phone and determined took the receiver. None of this bloody call centre operators would ever have a chance here!

��Hello!,” he almost barked into the phone. “Yes, hello Major Shand?,” it sounded friendly obviously out of a driving car. Bruce was still confused, but the caller introduced himself as the private secretary of The Prince of Wales. And if he was ready to take on the call from His Royal Highness.

Bruce was unsure if this guy just wanted to send him up. He could count on ten fingers how often Charles had called him in his life without Camilla to be first in the line. But then he really could make out Charles´s voice in the background impatient waiting for an answer. And he entirely was sure as Charles obviously had grabbed the mobile and confused asked if he had some buttons to press now.

But suddenly it started to panic inside Bruce. Why on earth Charles should call him out of the blue!? Maybe there is something wrong with….Bruce didn´t dare to think further, but excited called: “Charles? Charles? Hello?” Charles´s voice came nearer until it clearly sounded in Bruce ear: “Yes, hello. It´s Charles here.”

Bruce had a slightly dry mouth: “Yes, Charles. Hello! What´s wrong?” Charles frowned: “Nothing is wrong! I just wanted to call you!” Bruce wasn´t convinced: “Is something wrong with Camilla?” “No! She is fine!,” Charles wondered. Bruce exhaled relieved: “Alright. So what´s really up, Charles?” “Uumm…I just wanted to ask…I have a few engagements in your surrounding area. And, maybe…,” Bruce didn´t know that Charles´s heart suddenly heavy bumped. “Mmhh…?,” he just asked into the break. Charles behaviour was a bit strange today.

Charles grabbed the mobile tighter: “So, I just wanted to ask if I…if I can come to visit afterwards.” Of course he could, but why? He always was so busy, Bruce really couldn´t imagine the reason, as not even Camilla was by his side.

“Yes, of course you can come along. Isn´t there really something wrong, Charles?” Charles lightly stuttered: “No, no. Not at all. I just wanted to…ask…,” he exhaled, “I just wanted to talk to you.” Bruce confusion got more: “Yes, it´s fine. But you can tell me now as well.” “No, no!,” Charles hastily answered, “not now…it´s better if we…,” he paused. Bruce had absolutely no idea what Charles wanted to ask or tell him, but: “Alright, Charles. When will you be here?” Charles´s voice sounded somehow relieved now: “I guess in the early afternoon. Shall we call again?” “No, just come along. I´m home. What else should I do.”

Indeed, somehow Bruce looked forward to a little variation in his daily routine. And he was curious now what Charles just could have on his mind.

Some hours later a caravan of a few cars arrived and wildly parked on Bruce´s driveway, making some noise. Charles immediately jumped out and went over to the main door. Bruce had noticed them already and chuckled as Charles unnecessarily rung the bell.

He scuffled over to the door in his slippers, shouting: “I´m coming, I´m coming!” He turned around the huge key in the lock, opened the door and looked into Charles´s face that somehow excited stared at him.

Charles said nothing, just smiling nodded at him. Bruce reached out his hand and as always, still, was surprised about the strong and manly handshake he got then. “Come in, Charles. How are you?” Charles just nodded again: “Sorry for my invasion here. But��Thank you.” Bruce smiled and made a head movement to his staff outside with asking eyes. Charles hastily answered: “No, no! They will wait!”

Bruce shrugged shoulders and shut the door. Charles has stepped more into the house but had turned to Bruce and watched him while kneading his hands. Obviously something was going round in his head, but now as he was to visit Bruce wouldn´t let him go so fast. He would ask a little later.

He patted Charles´s back and asked: “Some tea?,” while already walking towards the kitchen. Charles still fiddled at his hands and his eyes followed Bruce, his feet still glued on the ground. “Yeess, yeess…,” he finally answered and almost jumped behind now.

“Let me help you!,” he spluttered while looking around in the kitchen for the ingredients. Bruce chuckled, Charles really isn´t known in the family for his kitchen skills. But to his very surprise Charles found all the things he needed for making tea, while Bruce boiled the water. “I clearly see the good impact of my daughter!,” Bruce roared.

Charles blushed immediately und almost let fall down a cup of porcelain. But his eyes gleamed in such a happy way now, Bruce was speechless. It still hit him like a hammer how deep the feelings of Charles for his daughter were, and actually had deepened more and more through the years. But Charles felt a bit awkward now and turned away from Bruce, biting his lips and trying to stay calm.

They carried the tray into the living room now and Bruce moaning let fall into his huge arm chair. “Old crock,” he mumbled to himself.

Charles waited, fumbling at his signet ring, until Bruce sat comfortable. His face was a bit strained, but his eyes were adorned with a somewhat expecting glance and he constantly chewed is lower lip. He poured some tea into Bruce´s cup and into his own and was about to hand over the tea as Bruce quickly snapped away his cup: “That´s just what I needed! To be served from His Royal Highness!”

Charles jaw sagged but he watched into Bruce´s amused face and earned a teasingly hit from him. Usually Charles always laughed about Bruce´s wicked humour, but today his brain needed ages to work out that it was a joke. Under Bruce´s alert eyes he took his own cup and placed down in the opposite chair.

Quiet he nodded to him and for a little while they both listened to the ticking of the grandfather clock. “Really nothing wrong, Charles?,” Bruce tilted his head. “No, no, no…everything is fine. Really.,” Charles hastily answered and gulped down a sip of tea. Bruce didn´t let him out of sight as he sipped his one. But as obviously nothing was to get out of Charles he tried with chitchat: “So, how was your event here? Really friendly people around, aren´t they?”

Charles was somehow lost in thoughts, his eyes were focussed on the Persian carpet and he reacted just seconds later with a confused: “Yes, yes, yes…very friendly!” He smiled to Bruce again, a bit exaggerated and his lips formed some words. But he said nothing.

Bruce could really feel his strain now, but still he had no idea what was going on inside Charles. Maybe he had worries with his family again, like so often. Or with his staff, or one of his charities. Or maybe a bad article was published and Bruce had missed it. But why he should ask for his, Bruce´s, advice then? Camilla was always the first person he turned to…

Suddenly Charles pushed back his cup of tea, cleared his throat and looked down on the carpet again. ��I…I….” he looked up with kneading hands to Bruce again, “I wanted to ask you something.”

He looked very serious, but very agitated as well. His eyes again were adorned with a mixture of positive expectation, absolutely nervousness but determination.

Bruce pushed aside his cup of tea also and straightened up in his chair, kneaded his hands on his lap and very serious looked back at Charles. Today he really gave him a riddle.

Charles got even more nervous and wriggled about on his arm chair. Bruce said nothing and so Charles started to stutter: “Yes, it is…a very…very important thing. Very, very…” Somehow Charles resembled the young, a bit insecure man now he got to know about thirty years ago, Bruce mused.

And suddenly Charles deep exhaled, squared his shoulders and jumped up. If the arm chair weren´t so heavy it for sure had slide away. As straight as a pole, almost in navy style, Charles stood in front of Bruce´s chair, his eyes glued on his face and with a strong and steady voice he pressed out: “I want you to ask for your daughter´s hand!”

No single breath sounded in the living room for a moment. Charles, remaining in his position, stared down to Bruce and Bruce, with a light open mouth, stared up to Charles.

He had heard his words, yes, but somehow he couldn´t work out them. “Wwhhaattt?,” Bruce just stuttered while still looking up. But very slowly something in the back of his head started to work now.

Inside Charles the strain started to fade, his brain had finally noticed that it was done. The scene he had imagined since years, the question his heart had longed so much for, it was done. Charles started to breathe again and his body relaxed. Even his face changed, into a soft and relaxed smile, but his eyes were still expectant.

Charles exhaled again, made a mini step forward to Bruce and asked anew. His voice was calm now, but still determined and full of the knowledge that he did it right. “I ask you for your daughter´s hand.”

He lovingly smiled to Bruce and watched him how he leaned back in his chair, fiddled at his fingers and finally got up, with weak knees. He just embraced Charles very tightly, his excited breathing sounded in Charles´s ear and he mumbled: “What does she say?!”

Charles shook his head and grabbed Bruce´s shoulders to look at him. Somehow this situation was so unreal for him, though it was exactly what he badly had wished for. And…slowly his feet lost ground, slowly everything inside him was enlightened from a new kind of happiness, his body felt so light as if tons of stones were loosened from him.

With the happiest and most beaming smile Bruce had ever watched on Charles he answered, while his eyes flooded over with all his heart: “I haven´t ask her yet. I wanted to do it this way. I wanted to do it right, in the way she earns it. I wanted to ask her father for his permission first.”

Bruce was more than speechless. He was totally overwhelmed and confused but his heart told him that something very wonderful was just going on. There just could be one answer. With tears in his eyes and an emotional voice Bruce patted Charles´s back: “Yes. Yes! Of course, my dear chap!”

Charles face just exploded now in happiness and relieve and he just embraced Bruce, as tight as he was able too. “Thank you, thank you…,” he whispered before he helped him down into his arm chair again.

Bruce was really, really moved and rumbled around for a handkerchief. Eventually he had found what he looked for, tried to dry his flow of tears now and made a hand movement that Charles should sit down again.

Bruce still couldn´t believe it. He actually was more than content with the way his daughter had arranged to be the consort of The Prince of Wales. A marriage was totally out of his mind, he never had expected this to be happen. And that his daughter would say “Yes” to Charles was without any question. She had endured so very much to be on his side, much more as most people could bear, Bruce adored her for this.

But…”Is there really no one you had talked about it, Charles? Are you sure it is possible at all?,” Bruce frowned suddenly. But Charles beamed to him with an almost boyish face, Bruce had the feeling he could explode each second with his happiness. “Yes, of course, I talked to my mother. And she was alright with it. What else!,” he chuckled as if it was the most easiest thing to marry in his position. Bruce wasn´t convinced: “Yes, well. But the church?! Or the law?!” Charles leaned back confident in his chair: “Be sure, I did everything to left no doubt. And I would go till the end of the world, and beyond, to marry her!” Charles gaze was determined, in fact Bruce had never seen him more determined.

Still wiping his tears he answered Charles with a low voice: “You always had this on your mind, hadn´t you? Since ever?” Charles serious looked back at him, leaned forward a bit and almost whispered with eyes locked at Bruce: “I always wanted to marry her. Always. I never gave up hope. Never.” Bruce´s spine run down a shiver and his tears flooded more again. His heart felt so light now, full of confidence that his daughter would be entirely happy now.

More or less silent they drunk their tea now, lost in their thoughts. Charles with a happy and confident smile and the lightest heart while looking into his future that he ever had. Bruce smiling as well, but with a slice of melancholy. He thought of Rosalind and how much he had loved her to be here just right now…

Before he opened the main door he embraced Charles again. He was calm again, but happy. And with his found again mischief he whispered into his ear: “And if she isn´t entirely happy for just one day, then you´ll have me to contend with!” He teasingly boxed Charles´s shoulder and Charles knew, it was as much fun as it was meant in earnest. But Charles determined looked at him: “There won´t be one single second!” Bruce brightly grinned, he knew Charles would care for her in the way he always did and much more, if still possible.

Patting Charles´s shoulder he opened the door, but Charles turned around. And out of his heart he said: “I will be very proud to be your son-in-law.” Bruce smiled and watched Charles for a last second. And the young man that hold his daughter so tightly in his arms in the garden of The Laines during his first visit appeared again…

”Go now! Make her happy!” Bruce waved Charles out before the tears in his eyes would be back again.

He scuffled back into the living room, to the photo of Rosalind on the cupboard. His index finger gently slipped over her face: “We´ve got good news, darling…”…

#queen camilla #king charles lll #fanfiction #thecclover

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