Disclaimer: I do not own any of the historical characters in Victoria nor do I own the TV series which was written by Daisy Goodwin. Any lines from the show are also not mine and are just borrowed from Daisy Goodwin and ITV Victoria.

Slight AU in that Victoria does not give Albert the flower at the ball in episode 4.

Written before episode 5 so any similarities to that episode are unintentional - spoilers for episodes 1 to 4 - I found it quite hard in this to try and portray Victoria's growing feelings for Albert since I feel episode 4 didn't give me enough to like Albert very much. Then of course I was trying to balance her growing love with the love she still feels for Melbourne. I hope it doesn't come out as too much of a mess.

Her heart is battered by Lord Melbourne's rejection.

A gentle rejection, of course, and one she soon realises gives her dear friend no pleasure, but rejection nonetheless.

He tells her that she cannot give her heart to him but of course it is too late – she'll recover it but there will always be a piece that remains in his safe and steady hands – too much has been said and felt for it to be otherwise.

She thinks for a moment of ordering him to obey her, of insisting that all obstacles can be removed, that she will do anything to ensure that they can be happy together. But young and naïve though she is in some ways she does know deep down that such a battle would be too much.

She has a duty to her people and her country that she cannot forget.

The sting of humiliation that she feels when he tells her they cannot be together, that he has no use for her heart, threatens to make her furious with him. But she can see in his eyes that he does not wish to give her pain and she forgives him before she can even really realise her anger.

And when he arrives at the ball dressed as the Leicester to her Elizabeth she understands what Emma has tried to explain, understands that he rejected her not out of lack of feeling but out of strong duty and concern for her welfare.

She has never identified so strongly with Queen Elizabeth before. The urge to follow the past queen's example, to marry no one if she cannot have the one she truly wants, is so strong she almost gives in. But she loves her country and she wants to make a legacy her dear departed papa and uncle would be proud of. She knows, no matter what she says out loud to Uncle Leopold and her mother, that she must marry, that she will be lonely if she doesn't.

She knows her choices are limited. She knows she cannot put if off for too long.

But for now she has Lord M, her truest companion and friend. And she doesn't care that people talk and whisper, doesn't care that one day he will no longer be her Prime Minister, doesn't care that they may never again be as they were for such a brief and beautiful time.

Elizabeth is dancing with her Leicester and that, in this moment, is more than enough.

"I don't want things to change."

"I know, Ma'am. But I believe you will not be happy alone... even with companions. You need a husband... to love you... honour you, cherish you."

"But there is no-one I care for."

"I do not think you have really looked."

She can't stand Albert at first.

He is so very different, so serious and stern and appearing to disapprove of her every action.

Such a contrast to Lord M, who from the start has assured her that she can be a brilliant queen no matter what her detractors say. He has always believed in her. Albert, it seems, finds little in her aside from faults. He seems to care nothing about all the trials she has endured in her short time as queen and he does not see her struggles to be free of oppressive influences.

No, Albert only thinks her Lord Melbourne's puppet.

Lord M is her Prime Minister, it is his job to advise her.

And Albert does not see how he tries to teach her what she has never had the opportunity to learn, doesn't know the pains Melbourne takes to ensure she is as prepared as she can be, the way he tries to shield her from critics and mitigate the negative outcomes of any mistakes she makes.

Albert thinks Lord Melbourne rules her as Sir John Conroy wishes to. He does not see, will not see, that Lord M has better intentions than most at her court.

It baffles her that so intelligent a man as Albert clearly is cannot see that the cares of running the country wear on Lord M, that he desires no more than he already has in terms of power, that he is constantly working to prepare her for his retirement, which he insists draws near.

She has little patience for those who do not appreciate her Lord M.

When she dances with Albert and he talks of his mother it is the most human she has seen him.

She softens towards him, sees something other than the awkward and stern lecturer in him.

She considers for a moment giving him her flower in memory of his mother, but she cannot bring herself to do it. It seems an overly intimate act when she is only just beginning to warm to him, something too much for the middle of a crowded ballroom.

And besides, she cannot bear to be separated from her gift, grown especially for her. What an insult it would be to dearest Lord M to give away his thoughtful present. It would not be right.

But though she does not give Albert the flower, though she spends a great deal of the evening in deep conversation with her beloved Prime Minister, she does not forget the glimpse she has received of Albert's deeper nature.

And something in her feelings towards the prince shifts.

"I wish you had not been so much with Lord Melbourne. He is not serious."

"He does not choose to appear serious. It is the English manner, but, Albert... he is a man of great feeling."

"Perhaps you should marry him."

"Albert!"

It doesn't occur to her that Albert sees the Prime Minister through jealous eyes until they are alone in the woods together.

She does not dislike Albert any more, most of the time at least. She is beginning to see that some of his lectures have value, that he may have good ideas for making her reign more successful.

But he pushes too much, raises her hackles and makes her feel boxed in.

And she's so confused. She's used to people attributing darker motives to Lord M but rarely has it angered her quite as much as it does now. Why is that?

Maybe because she thinks Albert is better than gossip and rumours … or she hopes he is.

"How dare you? May I remind you that, while you were looking at paintings in Italy, I was ruling this country? Yet you have been here a few days and you assume you know my people better than I do. I do not need you to tell me what to think, Albert."

"No. That's Lord Melbourne's job."

Albert leaves her there in the woods and she makes her way back to the castle alone.

Lord M is there when she arrives and she sees how he worries over her. When he sees her disarray and notices the distraught look in her eyes he is quick to ensure that she has not been harmed, quick to anger over the fact that Albert abandoned her.

He cares so much for her, even as he tries to temper his emotions, and he cheers her up as he is always able to.

Yet when he leaves, when she is once more alone, she finds herself feeling strangely bereft.

She misses Albert's company.

Her mind is in turmoil.

Not so long ago she was pouring out her heart to Lord M, insisting he was the only man she could ever love.

And at the time she meant it, even now she knows some part of her will always mean it.

Because what would she be without Lord M's friendship. What a tired, lonely, politically naïve queen Albert would have found if she had not had Lord M.

And perhaps Albert owes Lord M everything. Because it is thanks to him that she knows what love – real love – is. And who knows if she would have been able to recognise the truth of her burgeoning feelings for Albert if she had not already felt what she did (does) for Lord M.

She cannot have her Lord M, she has finally begun to truly realise that.

But maybe, just maybe, he is not the only man she can ever love.

"It's so clever of you to find gardenias."

"It wasn't easy, Ma'am."

"Lord Melbourne grows them at Brocket Hall, but... I could not ask him."

She is ready to see Albert, ready to offer him her hand in marriage.

She has fallen so quickly for him that it scares her a little, worries her that she could have such feelings so soon after her confession to Lord M at Brocket Hall.

Maybe it makes her a bad person.

But Lord M is right. She is not made for loneliness. And Albert has, after some stumbling and mistakes, shown himself to be an exceptionally admirable man, the sort who will always be there to help her when she needs it.

There will be much to work through, much to discuss, but she knows they will be so very happy.

And yet …

She loves Albert and she wants very much to marry him, but there is a part of her heart he will never have, a part that will always belong to her dear Lord M.

And she will cherish that part of her heart just as much as she will cherish Albert.

Because Albert might be her happily ever after but Lord M is her first love and she will not forget him.

Never.

"I was so happy before."

"I find that happiness can always be recollected in tranquillity, Ma'am."

"You were happy too?"

"You know I was."

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.