The Armor (Prince Harry fanfic #1)

Chapter Twelve

Throughout the warm day, the schoolhouse was abuzz with energy, which Harry was the only one that could control them. Lucy, on edge with the students running wild, was abundantly quiet. When the break came, Harry pulled her aside to ask if anything was wrong, which there wasn't. Perhaps it wasn't the students that were excited, whether the joy toward the wedding, Harry thought. Perhaps she wasn't a wedding person. The students gathered back within the schoolhouse, and the teaching continued. The students waited until the last moment before wishing Harry and Lucy good bye and exiting.

Harry cleared his throat in search of the right words. "The students were hyper today." He hoped he hadn't done anything toward her, but he didn't believe he had. Still, he didn't want her anger. Her imitation level was at an all-time high.

"You handled them well," she complimented. "They are quite excited over the wedding."

"Have they ever been so excited?" He didn't want to use the word hyper again in case she caught on.

"I don't think so."

"Does it annoy you?"

"No."

"You're upset for a reason."

"You're observant."

"I am. You're a good actress."

"I should win an Oscar." She paused, glancing up at him. "You're British... BAFTA."

He smiled. "Are you excited for tonight?"

"Sure. Why not?"

There was pain in her voice, stabbing into the darkness. Whatever the pain meant, wherever the pain came from, it was loud and clear. Such a good actress for the ones she didn't trust, those were the students. Those were the people she would never see again. Lucy thought she might see him again, in the papers, on the news, the only one who could tell the world what she really was like, the things she hid, everything she ran from. Her pain shook her body, rumbling from within her like thunder. Harry understood, whatever the pain meant, wherever the pain came from. He felt the pain before, whatever she moved through, whatever had moved through. She wadded in the dark waters with a hurricane, but she didn't know the hurricane had already passed. At sometime, the sun would shine again.

"I was just wondering," he lied, and he finished cleaning one of the tables. "Actually, I wasn't just wondering." Lucy stopped and looked at him, forcing herself to be calm in the oncoming storm. "Whatever happened to you, you don't have to tell me. It's none of my business, never. But," he took a shaky breath, "you aren't okay. You aren't excited for tonight. I saw you today, when the students were excited and they were loud, how you didn't jump at the sound. You were completely calm, still like you are at night when you wake up after a nightmare." He stepped forward, their secrets wouldn't escape. "I know it's a nightmare. You keep yourself together, well, better than I've ever seen. And I've seen some screwed up people." His hand touched her hand, warm and comforting, promising to never leave. "You don't have to tell me, but I trust you. And I don't trust easily, Lucy, and I don't think you do either." His thumb ran over the back of her hand. "Please trust me."

"I want to." Her voice was barely above a whisper, somewhere lost at sea.

"That's the best for now."

She nodded.

Her hand slipped away from his, feeling cold in the sight of lost humanity. He was human, good as they came. She was real, daring as ever lived. Behind her eyes, deep in the light, she was the one who breathed with ease in danger, ready to fight until death. Behind his eyes, mixed into purity, he was the one who gave life a light. He was easily spoken with the words, not too hard on the eyes. She was beautiful with the mind, breaking the rules of society. She regretted the choice to move her hand but there was no way to get back.

"Harry, we need to talk about the lesson plan." Lucy moved away from him, only a few steps back to clear her head, and he staggered back to give her space. This was all her.

"Yes," he insisted.

"Well, the lesson plan set out for us by the charity is a little outdated, and I want to change it, which could get us in trouble."

"You think me being a prince will save us?" He meant it as a joke but her eyes flared up in anger.

"I'm not scared of the charity, what they might say or what trouble I might get in. I don't need Prince Charming to come save me, especially now or ever." She rocked back on her heels. "I'm going to change the lesson plan." She sat down at her legs, spreading her legs and rocking back, taking up more space. Never had a woman sat like that in front of him or around him, going against the gender norms, not being ladylike, and she didn't care at all. "If we change this," she marked up the paper and laughed, "yeah... no." She scribbled something out.

In curiosity, Harry walked over, trying to peer over her shoulders, but she put the book to her chest.

"I don't think so," she said.

"Come on," Harry begged. "Let me see how we're changing the world."

"Let it be a surprise."

She stood up and walked around him, standing taller than him for a while. She had the length, always meeting his gaze evenly. Most girls dreamed to have their Prince Charmings tall, dark and handsome. Prince Charming here was her height, light and he was attractive enough to her. She didn't really understand the concept, never going for the most beautiful type.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked.

She laughed. "Every time you say that to me, I feel my death is coming." He froze. "Just ask me the question, however serious. Talk to me like I'm human. Talk to me like I'm an equal."

He agreed, seeing her as a human, as an equal. "Why this charity?"

Freezing at the question, she let the words sink in. "I'll answer if you answer." If she went down, she wouldn't go down alone.

He agreed.

She went first, choosing her words carefully under the gaze of Harry. She met his eyes, never a victim of this world. "I chose this charity because I wanted to make a difference, and I needed to get away."

"Why did you need to get away?" he asked.

She swallowed her pride. "There are bad things in my life, the things we don't talk about...."

"The things you don't talk about?"

Her lips turned up in a smile. "The things we all don't talk about, the things that go bump in the night, the things that we think we won't happen to us because they always happen to someone else. Those things." Her soft voice filled the room, letting her armor fall off. "And you? What brought you here? Why this charity?"

"I like the heat," he said, and she laughed. "You don't?"

"I'm used to the cold, snow and rain, wind and the chills." Her eyes waited for him to continue.

"I like the heat, and I needed to get away."

"Now, why might that be?"

His sarcasm rang true, "Constant cameras, with the questions of who I am dating, when I'm getting married and having children. Those questions are fun. The blinding light in my eyes, I live for that. I love everyone knowing my business. I love rumors that are hurtful and fake on newspapers and online. I love fanfiction."

"You like to feel normal?"

"It's a wonderful feeling."

She laughed. "The things people take for granted."

"Some are born great," he mocked, finishing in his head, Some are born great, some achieve great, and some....

"Some have greatness thrust upon them," she finished.