Long Live The King (Peaky Blinders)

Burn the pictures

1919

(Nicholas's P.O.V.)
"Excuse me, Sir" a young child spoke out to me, I stopped and turned to look at him. Thankfully, the boy did not know who I was. "Who are you?" I questioned the boy. "I have a message from the royal court" he answered me. Why am I being approached by a small boy, and not one of them? I questioned myself. Of course they wouldn't come out to the low, workers area that is called Small Heath. One of the reasons why I stayed here, to avoid the Royal house for the most parts. "about what?" I question him further, "please, Sir" he beggs. I scoff for a second before telling the boy to follow me. I take him to a more private area. "Speak" I indtruct him. "Majesty King George V, is requesting your precense". I hum in responce "Well, I suggest you return directly to the person of the Royal court and tell them and the King that his request has been ignored" I tell him and turn to leave. The boy had grown white after hearing me refuse the King's order. No one dares to refuse an order given by the King And so he tries again. "I've also been instructed to deliver the request with much urgency". "Then tell him that the urgency of the request has also been whole heartedly ignored" I snap. Yet the boy urged on and eventually I grew agitated enough "fine, I'll see him tomorrow!". The child nods a thank you before dashing off again. I had a feeling about what father wanted to talk to me about. But I had no desire to actually speak to him.

I walked into the Garrison. Some men that served under me during the war just nodded a greeting or raised their glass to me. I arrived at the barside and leaned onto it. "Your usual, LT.?" Harry asked, awknowledging my rank as he walked up to me. I nod and hand him the owed money. After handing me my drink, we made a bit of small talk while he wiped the bar down. Then suddenly little Finn Shelby had ran in. "Finn, lad, what are you doing?" Harry questioned, watching the youngest Shelby brother climb onto the bar. "We're having a fire" the young one simply answered. I looked after him with a questioning look. "A fire?" I aksed turning back to Harry, "must be because the coppers had raided our houses without any reason". I remember walking onto Watery Lane and seeing smashed in doors, broken windows and such. I grabbed my glass and downed it in one go before going out to see what this supposed fire was about. I followed the people to Watery Lane. Two cars stood blocking off the street. I approached and saw two of Blinders standing beside it. Scudboat and Curly. "Sir" the two greeted me as I passed them with a simple nodd while continuing my way to the fire. I spot the 4 Shelby brothers. I decide to make my way towards them. "Gentlemen" I greet them, making all of them chuckle "always so proper, aye, LT?" Arthur chuckled. Well growing up as a Prince you are taught to be mannerfull and talk proper. "It's called manners, Arthur. Something you do not yet understand" I tell him with a playfull smirk. His brothers laugh around us and he soon follows aswell. "Yeah, I've always liked you". "So. What exactly happened to make you lot burn the Kings pictures?" I question not one Shelby in particular. I was intruiged and wanted to know their answer. Did I care? No, not really. Father was a good King for the people, but to me. Not so much. Yes, he loved me dearly but I never really felt like he treated me as his son. He always brought me up to become his big successer. We also disgreed often and had other opinions about things. Especially the war. In my opinion, this war didn't have to happen and he just sent our people to hell just to gain more power. That opinion broke our relationship a bit, and that was mainly the reason why I was currently avoiding my duties as Prince. I just needed some time to heal my wounds from the war, afterall, it had ended not even a full year ago. Before one of the brothers could answer my question. Someone walked up to us. "Come on folks. Give us a bit of room" Fred said passing through the crowd that had surrounded us. "Tommy?". I slightly turned my head towards Fred, wanting to know why he came over to talk to Tom. I saw another person beside him. "You're Mr. Shelby?" The stranger asked my friend. "I am" Tommy responded simply. The stranger was a reporter for the Birmingham papers, who Tom had called so he could write about what was going on in Small Heath. "First of all" Tommy said to the man, "it's not that people around here are disloyal to the King. It's the opposite. You see we don't want to see our beloved King looking down at us to see the things that are done to us. So we are taking down his pictures". "But why are you burning them?" The reporter asked confused. "We all went through hell for our King. Walked through the flames of war" he explained as I looked into the fire. "Write all of this down" Tommy said to him pointing at the notebook. "And now we are being attacked in our own homes. Now I don't think his Majesty would like to see that happening. So we are here to raise the alarm". "May I ask in what capacity do you speak?" He asked me. I shook my head "no capacity. I'm just an ordinary person". The reporter asked a few more questions.

Later that evening

(Chester Campbell's P.O.V.)
"There is a telephone call, for you Sir, on the London line" one of my officers informed me, "there is?" I questioned, "it's almost midnight". "It's Mr Winston Churchill, sir". I stand up immediatly and take a quick drink from my glass before answering the phone "yes, Sir?". "Inspector Campbell, I hear there's been a bonfire in your city" Mr Churchill began. I tell him that it was a small fire that got reported around 9 o'clock on Watery lane. And it was certainly not something that he should be worried about. "Ah but I'm afraid it has troubled me. Half an hour ago I recieved a wire communication from the editor of Birmingham evening dispatch. It seems one of his reporters was invited to the fire and discovered that they where burning pictures of the King" he continued. I can hear dissapointment in his voice, "of the king?" I question in disbelief, "any newspaper report which may cause embarrassment to the his Majesty, is always referred first and as a matter of routine to the home office". "I will go down there immediatly and arrest those involved" I tell him. "No you most certainly will not make arrests" he responds sternly, "may I ask why?" I question, "because his Majesty's son, the Prince of Wales is most likely there". "I didn't know that-" before I could continue I was interrupted "you tell anyone about his royal highness whereabouts and the King will surely have you and I hanged from our necks. Good night, Mr Campbell" he tells me and hangs up. I stand there in shock. Only the Royal house and her acquaintances know who the Prince is, and non-family members are always made sure to keep there mouths shut. So no ordinary commoner knows who the Prince exactly is or looks like. And that could be either a blessing or a curse for me, considering I am not one of those people.

Published: 10th of August 2023