The Sword (Prince Harry fanfic #3)

Chapter Forty-One

In the morning, Lucy awoke beside Harry. She loved the view. The whole day was dedicated to them. Tiredness belonged to Lucy as she laid there forever. Harry yet slept. She blinked as her eyes found outside. Sunlight streamed in through the windows. 

Harry awoke eventually. His fingers graced Lucy's bare skin on her arm. "You're beautiful."

Lucy yawned and rolled over. "You're handsome."

"Oh, we're talking that way today."

"My mind's not in full capacity."

"Because of my good looks?"

"Because of the drugs I'm on." Groaning, Lucy got out of bed and made her way downstairs. Harry followed.

Harry opted to make breakfast this morning since Lucy was injured. He had wished she might stay in bed to make her breakfast, but Lucy refused to go back upstairs. Her coming downstairs was entertaining, one step at a time down the stairs.

Coffee brewed while Harry took his time to cook eggs for Lucy with ham pieces. Toast popped up and they nibbled on that together as Harry almost burned the eggs. Even with narrowing their second full month without a chef, neither of them were any good at cooking. Harry had been easily introduced to the freezer section of the grocery store.

Once the scrambled eggs were perfected, Harry and Lucy ate quietly.

Noon happened, and Lucy and Harry took down all the Christmas directions around the house and outside. A few paparazzi remained but most let them go. Harry wasn't royal now; Harry was normal now. With eyes on him, he did mundane things. He didn't do random charity events with a gleam in his eyes and a rosy smile. He was normal. Pictures couldn't sell if he was normal. A few paparazzi remained in case a random act came.

As Lucy and Harry took down the Christmas lights, pictures were taken. A few snaps were taken of Lucy's braced left leg, but it was without a care. With it constantly icy in Minnesota, the thought was that she fell down. If the paparazzi got wind of what actually happened, maybe they would've showed up again. Until then, it was quiet. All the Christmas lights were stuff into one big box until next time, which was probably never.

After the outside Christmas lights being taken down, Harry and Lucy returned inside. The Christmas decorations were taken down by the couple, starting with the plastic snowmen around the house. Lucy sat down in pain after standing on her leg for too long. Harry took the Christmas tree ornaments down and handed them to Lucy who put them in safe and secure boxes for when they might be used next time.

Lucy was aware she might never see these things again. She would never have another Christmas like this. She was aware of what would come next, only a little bit. Lucy was going into Harry's life. She would do his things of his life. She would be there. Lucy was saying good bye to her old self, indefinitely. Visiting would be her life now. There was no coming back to a home here or belonging here. This wasn't her life. Tears burned in Lucy's eyes, but she blinked them away.

Harry could only guess what Lucy was giving up for him, and it was a lot. And he only guessed what her life would be like if they didn't work out. He wanted his life with her, but sometimes it didn't work out that way. You never really got what you wanted. Shit happened. Yet, if they did work out, she gave up her life for him. She gave up her home and her family. She wouldn't see them often. She wouldn't talk to them much. Harry didn't want Lucy to do this for him, but at the same time, he wasn't willing to give up his family or his life. Lucy didn't him to do this but neither he ask her. Something just had to give.

The sun started to go down when the doorbell rang. Harry was the person to answer it this time with Lucy's ability to move quickly diminished. Sydney stepped into the house as the door was closed behind her, and she was directed to the kitchen. Lucy finished putting all the decorations away.

"Harry, can you take these down to the basement?" she asked.

"Yeah." Harry grabbed the crates and moved downstairs.

"Hey, Syd, what brings you here?"

Sydney's blue eyes ran over her friend's injury. "What was it this time?"

"Someone tried to mug me."

"You didn't let your purse go."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

Sydney rolled her eyes. "I hope it was worth it."

Lucy laughed.

Sitting beside her, Sydney grew still. "You're packing up and leaving town, aren't you?"

Lucy opened her mouth to explain, but Sydney continued.

"I know. London is your home, and I'm happy for you, really." Sydney grabbed her old friend's hand. "I am really happy for you, Lucille. You and Harry are great together, and you're cute, and I know you'll accomplish great things as a princess."

"Syd, I don't want to be a princess. I want to be Lucy. I don't want to sit there and look pretty. I want to speak and have my voice heard."

"You can do that as a princess, Lucille."

"I don't want a title. I don't want to be a princess. I'm not sure if I want to be royal." Lucy sighed. "I'm moving in with Harry, at Kensington Palace, and we know that's a step..." she couldn't finish.

"Down the aisle.... Moving into Kensington Palace is a step down the aisle." Harry was still in the basement putting the decorations away, but Sydney whispered to Lucy, "Do you think he's going to propose to you soon?"

Lucy scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Oh my God, you do. You think he's going to propose to you!" she squealed. "Oh my God. You're getting married. You're going yes, right?"

She didn't want to be having this conversation right now or ever. "Please, Syd, can we not?"

"Sorry," Sydney stilled, "but he's going to. He's going to ask you to marry him." Tears built up in Sydney's blue eyes, and Lucy glared at her friend.

"What's all the laughing?" Harry asked when he came upstairs.

Sydney stood and put her jacket on again. "The future," she sighed. "Good bye, Lucille. I'm sure you again soon, probably in the papers and on the TV but still. I'll see you again." Her eyes drifted to the prince. "Harry, you got a good one here. Don't fuck it up." Sydney smiled as she left.

Harry turned to Lucy for an explanation, but none was given.

The countdown began for midnight. It was already a new year in London, and in Minnesota, it was still two-thousand-and-eighteen. Neither of them were sure what was in store with the new year. Harry had some plans, though.

Both sat on the couch in the living room, watching American football. Harry wasn't impressed, and Lucy only seemed to be watching because her home-state played their rival: Minnesota Vikings versus the Green Bay Packers. With the work they did that day, her eyelids began to droop, becoming lower and lower, until Lucy snored on his chest. He didn't wish to disturb her so he didn't move. Harry fell asleep too. In the morning, they would awake to a new year and a life new life.