London, England
July 2017

Weave the courage

As he walks down the hospital corridor towards us, Oliver looks deeply, deeply uncomfortable and I immediately know something didn't go to plan.

"Sir, Miss, I have to tell you that the media got wind of your presence here," he informs us unhappily. "There's a right mob in front of the hospital and one TV crew sneaked around to set up position at the side door. We'll still take that way to leave, but I'm afraid we won't be able to escape them completely."

"So much for 'there will be no media'," Ken grumbles and narrows his eyes at no-one in particular.

"Maybe they just guessed that you or someone from your family would come visit and got lucky?" I suggest, lightly bumping my shoulder against his in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Maybe." Ken sighs, his expression softening as he looks at me. "Are you okay?"

Truth to be told, I don't much fancy facing the media today, even if it's just one TV crew. At the same time, however, it feels somehow inappropriate to chicken out, especially today and especially after visiting so many brave, kind, inspiring people as we did.

Taking a deep breath, I put a smile on my face and nod. "Of course. Let's do this."

Ken reaches out to take my hand. "I will have to say a few words, but I'll keep it brief. Just stay in the background and we should be past them in no time."

It almost sounds too easy, but at first, it really looks like Ken will prove correct. The news crew immediately hones in upon seeing us as he calmly steps out of the side door and in front the camera to give a short speech. Me, I stay in the background next to Oliver and Melissa, firmly out of sight of the camera.

"My family, Rilla and I want to express our deepest and most heartfelt sympathy to anyone who was affected by this cruellest and most cowardly attack. We feel with the victims and their families and we hope that everything possible can be done to support them in overcoming this traumatic experience. Rilla and I feel very fortunate to have met some of the exceptional people who were harmed in the attack and are both humbled and impressed by their courage and strength" Ken states, looking like the perfect professional. "What we've seen today at this hospital, in the bravery of those affected and the selflessness of those caring for them, embodies the very soul of our country and everything that makes it strong. Every time an attack like this occurs, we all feel it in our very hearts, but at the same time, it gives us an opportunity to show the fabric that our country is made of. We were hurt, but we aren't afraid and to everyone who thinks they can damage us in any way, I want to say that no matter what they do, we won't be scared and we won't back down. In the contrary, it's cruel and senseless acts like these that bring us closer together and bring out the very best in us. Anyone who considers harming us would do well to remember that."

As far as speeches go, it's a good one – short, to the point, and appropriately sincere. When Ken smiles politely into the camera and turns toward the car, we all think it's enough to satisfy the news crew, but then, the reporter takes a step forward and I realise with a jolt that this isn't over yet.

"Thank you, Your Royal Highness," the reporter remarks courteously. "Would Miss Blythe like to say a few words as well?"

I freeze.

Melissa bites her lip.

Oliver groans softly.

Ken just looks murderous.

He's got me, that reporter, and we all know it. If I refuse, I will look unfeeling. If I say something and bungle it, I will look unfeeling and foolish. Simply put, to say nothing is bad and to say the wrong thing is worse. There's no way I can come out of this looking decent, except –

Except to say something and make it good.

I meet Ken's questioning gaze and give the tiniest of nods to tell him that it's okay and that I've got this. (I hope.) He still looks concerned, but evidently trusts in my assessment because he steps aside to clear the space in front of the camera for me.

I take a deep breath.

Here goes nothing.

"First of all, I would like to join Kenneth in expressing my sympathy and condolences for everyone who was in any way harmed in yesterday's attack," I begin, my voice shaking slightly with nervousness. "In that group, I would like to not only include those who were injured and those who witnessed the attack but also everyone who heard about it and is struggling because of it. I've found that… I've found that whenever an attack such as this happens, those in charge will go on the record to say that it can't scare us and… I mean, don't get me wrong, it's important for that to be said, because the government shouldn't be scared and the nation itself shouldn't be scared and it's a very important message, but… I can never quite help wondering whether what's true for a nation as a whole is equally true for the individual person."

Briefly, I pause and let my eyes flicker over to Ken, seeking reassurance. When he nods and smiles slightly, I continue, "Last night, someone said something to me that has stuck with me since. It's okay to be scared. It seems like such a little thing to say, but at the same time, it's not as… not as self-evident as it may seem. It's okay to be scared. If I could, that's what I would tell to anyone who feels scared right now, that there's no shame in feeling that way. Something scary happened, something utterly and completely terrifying happened, and it's not only okay to feel afraid, maybe it's… normal, even. In light of what happened yesterday, feeling scared is a perfectly normal feeling and I just… I just think that's something that bears saying."

I lower my gaze to look down at my hands as I organise my thoughts and try to decide what to say next. While I do, the camera remains on me and everyone else is quiet, as if sensing that I'm not yet done.

A few seconds later, I raise my head and look back up at the little red light. "Meeting the people hurt in the attack today, I've thought a lot about courage and what it really means to be brave. It seems instinctive to equal bravery with a lack of fear, but… I mean, I'm not sure about that, but I keep thinking that maybe that's not quite right. There's something else I heard today – I can be scared and be brave. I think there's a lot of truth to that, to the point that maybe, you can't even have one without the other. Being brave doesn't mean not being scared. There's… there's no real courage in doing something you don't fear even a little bit, is there? Instead, being brave means being afraid of something and doing it anyway. That, to me, is courage, more so than not being scared at all."

"Is there any advice you want to give to the people of Britain who struggle with feelings of fear and uncertainty today?" asks the reporter when I go quiet.

"I'm not entirely sure if anyone needs my advice in particular right now, but… if someone does want that advice, what I would say is to go do something brave," I reply with a somewhat awkward little smile. "It's doesn't take much to do something that's not scary, but we all have something we're a little afraid of doing and I know that sometimes, it takes all we can give to do it anyway. To me, it would be… it would be a very powerful sign if we all went out tomorrow and did something brave. It doesn't have to be anything big and Heaven forbid, it shouldn't be dangerous at all, but… I just think it could really be a way of showing that we won't be cowed and we won't back down."

"What could those acts of bravery be?" the reporter wants to know.

I shrug. "Anything, really. It could be going up that tower that's always looked so scarily high. It could be asking out the cute guy living next door. It could be finally going for that promotion at work. It could be tackling that complicated recipe that always seemed too hard before. It doesn't really matter what it is, as long as it's something we never dared do before. If we all did that tomorrow, overcome something scary by standing up and being brave, I really think that would send a message not only to those who tried to hurt us but also to ourselves. It… it could be a way of showing that even in the face of pain and fear, we have it in us to be braver than we thought we can be and… I think there's a lot of comfort to be found in that feeling and a lot of capacity for faith in ourselves and in each other. So… you asked what my advice would be and it would be to go out there and do something brave, not because it's easy but because it's hard and because we can do it anyway."

I fall silent again and for a moment, everyone around me mirrors that silence. The first to move is the cameraman who lowers his camera, causing me to relax again, now that its glaring eye is no longer on me. Behind me, I can feel Ken step up and put a reassuring hand on the small of my back.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid that was a bit of a mess," I apologise to the reporter who's still looking at me. "I tried but… I'm just not very good at this."

The reporter inclines his head thoughtfully. "Frankly, if that was you not doing well, I'm looking forward to hearing you speak when you're at your best." He pauses for a second. "Ma'am."

The unusual form of address throws me and I look up at Ken for an answer, but he doesn't provide one. Instead, he nods calmly at the reporter and the camera crew before nudging me forward, down the steps and towards the car. Butcher is already holding the door open and I slide on the backseat, grateful for the tinted windows providing a sort of protection from curious gazes. Ken sits down next to me, the door is slammed shut and the car starts moving, steadily and gracefully, along the streets of London.

I let my head drop back against the headrest of my seat and groan. "That was so awkward."

Ken makes a disbelieving sound. "Awkward?" he repeats, incredulous. "That was… that was bloody amazing!"

Slowly, I turn my head to look at him. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

He laughs. "I assure you I'm absolutely not teasing you. You were amazing and I say that with both the utmost sincerity and a very big dose of pride."

Hmm… he doesn't look like he's teasing, to be honest.

"Do you really mean that?" I want to know, still a little wary.

"Every last word," Ken assures, before leaning over to give me a brief kiss.

Slightly mollified, I smile just the tiniest bit. "That's very nice of you to say and yes, I believe you. I mean, not that they will use anything of what I just said there, but it's good to know that I didn't make a fool out of myself."

"You could never be a fool," he replies immediately. "And I wouldn't be so sure about them not using the footage of you speaking."

I scoff to express my disbelief and settle back in the soft leather seat, thus laying the subject to rest. And I truly do believe that it's the last I will ever hear of my little speech, because who could possibly care about the ungainly musings of a prince's foreign girlfriend in this time of national crisis? However…

However, the next day proves me wrong.

Being exhausted after the trying events of the past 24 hours, both Ken and I go to bed pretty much immediately after returning from the hospital, so it's only the next day at breakfast that we catch up with the news. Or rather, he does by reading the newspaper while I idly skim through a romance novel Katie lent me. I don't expect the news to hold anything of much interest to me, until Ken folds his newspaper and, without a word, switches on the TV in the corner instead.

We don't usually watch TV while eating, so I raise a quizzical eyebrow as the screen springs to life.

Ken smiles mysteriously. "Just watch."

And watch I do.

To be exact, I watch myself – or a little TV version of me –, standing on the steps outside the side door of the hospital and clumsily stringing words together to put voice to half-formed thoughts and vague feelings. It still looks awkward to me and frankly, a little embarrassing, but as Ken silently switches to another channel and then a third one, it's my own face I keep seeing, front and centre on all the morning shows.

"Are they making fun of me?" I ask, eyeing the TV suspiciously.

"I promise you no-one is making fun of you," Ken replies and covers my hand with his own. "They're showing your speech because it struck a note. No-one is interested in what I or my father or even the Prime Minister said. It's you who found the right words."

I open my mouth to protest, but he shakes his head and indicates the TV, telling me to watch and listen.

Little TV me is just finishing up her impromptu speech and is replaced by the two morning show presenters. "That was Rilla Blythe, Prince Ken's girlfriend, asked to give her thoughts about Thursday's attack," the man announces. "It's the first time we've heard her speak publicly and for many, it will be the first time they've heard her voice at all."

"It was far from an easy subject to tackle in her first public remarks, but it she got it just right," the female presenter adds. "It appears that her words resonated with many people. Several of our viewers called in this morning to express how helpful they've found Rilla's comments, saying that they strike just the right balance between truthful and encouraging."

"In fact, it appears that a lot of people all over the country and even all over the world have taken her advice to heart and began today by doing something courageous," continues the male presenter. "#BeingBrave is trending on Twitter, chronicling the many examples of people tackling and overcoming a situation that scared them before, just as Rilla asked them to."

I whip my head around to stare at Ken. He, smiling, hands me his phone while muting the TV with his other hand. When I look at the phone, I see the familiar blue bird at the top and beneath it – hundreds, nay, thousands of comments with the very same hashtag the presenter just mentioned.

#BeingBrave

Quickly, I scroll through the posts, trying to take it all in and yet failing spectacularly. I only really notice bits and pieces here and there, but it's enough to get a general feel of what's happening. These are people who really appear to be doing what I advised them to yesterday, in a weird, spur of the moment thing that I never thought anyone would even hear.

Right at the top, there's a picture of a diamond ring with the caption 'She said yes! #BeingBrave', but it certainly doesn't stop there.

There's a picture of a smiling couple on front of an adoption agency, a picture of a girl cuddling an oversized rabbit, a picture of a young woman grinning wildly as she holds up a key inside an empty apartment, a picture of a middle-aged man brandishing the papers for a college application, a picture of two elderly women sitting in an airplane, a picture of a boy wearing a toothy smile and a brand-new football team shirt, a picture of a group of young men holding surfing boards and giving thumbs-ups at the camera… and it goes on and on and on like that, a long row of pictures on the small phone screen, taken all over the world and all of them with the same hashtag.

#BeingBrave

Very slowly, I lower the phone to look at Ken. He watches me closely, his expression affectionate and a little expectant as he waits for my reaction.

"Are they –" I break off to clear my throat. "Are they doing that because… because of what I said?"

"It looks like they're taking your advice," Ken replies smilingly. "They're being brave because you gave them a reason to be."

Stunned, I look back down at the phone, then up at him again. "I didn't think… I didn't think anyone would even be interested in what I have to say, much less… this." Vaguely, I wave my free hand to indicate the phone.

"You found the words they needed to hear," Ken explains. "When something awful like this happens, we all try to find the right words to say and because we don't want to get it wrong, we tend to stick to a tried and tested formula. You dared to break free of that and spoke from the heart and as you can see, that resonated with very many people. You were honest with them and you believed in them and that gave them the courage to go out and do something brave – just because they could."

I frown, considering his words. "I didn't realise I could do that. I didn't realise people would take my words to heart like that."

"You didn't realise you have that kind of power?" Ken suggests gently.

"No." I shake my head. "No, I didn't know that. I didn't know I had any kind of power that goes further than some women wanting to buy the clothes I wear."

"I think in a way, that's a lesser version of what we're seeing now," he muses, tapping his finger on the phone in my hand. "When they copy the clothes you wear, they do so because they look up to you and want to be similar to you. Listening to your advice like so many people are doing now is really the same thing, just on a much deeper level. These people look to you for guidance and direction because they respect you."

Hmm… I purse my lips in thought, taking in what he just said.

"It feels… strange, to know that there are people out there who… you know…" I trail off, waving both hands in the air.

"I know it's an odd feeling, but this is what being us is all about," Ken points out carefully. "Sure, most of the time we cut ribbons, shake hands and open these ridiculous little curtains, but when something bad happens, people look to us for guidance, for reassurance, for comfort. You gave them that yesterday, when no-one else could, and you did it beautifully."

"It's… it's a little scary, actually, to know I have the power to… to make people do something… anything, really," I admit haltingly.

Ken smiles and reaches out to stroke my cheek. "I know it's scary, but aren't you the one who just asked the world to be brave?"

"I guess I did," I concede, cautiously mirroring his smile.

I did tell the world to be brave and do the things that they didn't dare do before. I reckon that means I should take my own advice and be just that.

Be brave.

The thought takes hold in my mind and refuses to budge, even as we lay the subject to rest and finish breakfast. The thought sticks with me as the day wears on, filled with the little, mundane tasks of any normal Saturday that might be boring normally but have a strangely reassuring quality today. There's a comfort to be found in life just carrying on as normal that I didn't always appreciate before, but even as I enjoy the quiet normalcy of today, I start realising that in truth, it's a highly unusual day and might yet become even more uncommon if I dare to go through with the idea that's filling my mind.

When Ken returns from a short walk with Lottie out in the northern field, he finds me in the drawing room, absent-mindedly stroking the back of a sleeping George and frowning at nothing in particular.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asks as he leans down to drop a kiss to the top of my head. Lottie scrambles over to lie on her blanket and chew on her favourite ducky toy, while George opens an eye to take in the situation and then quickly closes it again, lest anyone think he's awake.

I raise my head and look up at Ken, knowing that now is a good a time as any. "We need to talk."

He, clearly, is taken aback by my words and in fact does take a step back when he hears them. "O-kay," he replies warily, drawing out the word. "That doesn't sound good."

Quickly, I shake my head. "No, don't think that, please. It's… it's a serious subject, but I think… I don't think it's an ungood one."

"O-kay," he repeats once more, clearly still not trusting my intentions to be good.

Giving George a final pat, I get up from the sofa to stand in front of Ken, seeking out his gaze and holding it as I speak. "I've thought a lot about courage today and about all these people taking my advice and… and I figured it would be hypocritical if I didn't do it myself. So, this is me, doing something brave." I pause, smiling wryly. "Or, well, at least a little bit brave, I think."

As he listens to me, Ken's expression clears, the wariness leaving his features and being replaced by an amused expectancy. He reaches out to take both of my hands in his, but when I stop speaking, he doesn't take up the thread of the conversation, instead nodding for me to carry on.

I take a deep breath. I really shouldn't be so nervous about this!

"When you came to see me in Ingleside last year, you were ready to ask me a question," I continue, enunciating the words carefully to keep my voice from shaking or, worse, my old childhood lisp from slipping through. "I asked you to keep that question for another day, because I didn't feel we were ready then. I still think we weren't ready, but a lot of time has passed since then and I think we've gotten very far in that time, both individually and as a couple."

I pause, giving Ken a chance to step in and say something himself, but he just stands there and smiles, clearly thinking I'm not yet done with speaking – or with being brave.

Thus, I gather my courage and squelch the nervous flutter of my heart. "Back then, you asked me to tell you when would be a good moment for this very question. I've wondered about that for a while now, actually, and today… today, I'm sure that it wouldn't be bad moment at all."

Now it's me who's looking at Ken expectantly, but if I thought he'd suddenly drop to one knee or something, I quickly realise he will do no such thing. Instead, he makes a thoughtful sound and lightly swings our clasped hands between us, an amused and almost smug smile on his face.

"I could be wrong…" he begins, maddeningly slowly and still with that infuriating smile on his lips. "I could be wrong, but I almost have the feeling that you're proposing to me. Could that be true, at any rate?"

Part of me wants to toss my head and tell him he's imagining things, but that's the proud and childish part and I've grown past it now. So, I square my shoulders and look him in the eye while I state calmly and surely, "Your feeling could well be correct."

"Hmm…" Ken hums in thoughts, still swinging my hands with his – before he suddenly drops them and takes a step back. "Wait here."

With that, he turns around and strides from the room, leaving me standing there and staring after him.

What the hell…?

"He's just maddening, isn't he?" I grumble and look at the pets for confirmation. Lottie raises her head and blinks at me. George buries his nose deeper beneath his paw.

The nervous flutter in my heart is back and when I swallow, I realise there's a lump in my throat that won't budge. Rationally, I know that Ken didn't disappear to be cruel or because he suddenly got cold feet, but at the same time, it's not a nice feeling to be left standing here like this, no matter why he's doing it.

I haven't fully decided whether to be hurt or angry, however, before he's back, bouncing into the room with an apparent spring in his step that sets my heart at ease a little. Surely, he wouldn't be in such a good mood if he meant to –

He stops on front of me and holds up a box. A velvety box that holds ring. A beautiful diamond ring.

"If there's to be a proposal, there ought to be a ring," Ken announces proudly.

I stare at the ring, resisting the urge to touch it. "How long have you had this?"

He laughs. "Much longer than I care to admit. It's an heirloom, so it's been in the family for a while, but I've had it with me specifically since our little talk at the beach near Osborne House."

Abruptly, I raise my head. "That was three years ago!"

Ken shrugs and grins. "Let's just say that I've been waiting for this moment for an embarrassingly long time."

Well… clearly.

Slowly, cautiously, I raise my hand to the sparkling ring that Ken still holds up in front of me – but before I can touch it, he whips the box away and out of reach. I look up to him, confusion and a bit of uncertainty flickering within me, but he smiles and his expression is both gentle and just the tiniest bit teasing.

"I believe you wanted to ask me a question first?" he remarks and raises both eyebrows.

For a moment, I stare at him, before I feel laughter bubbling up in my throat and spilling over my lips. Ken joins in readily, his eyes shining with love and happiness.

He's really making me do this!

And oddly, I don't mind at all. Because I can be brave and because, truly, this doesn't really take much bravery at all, not anymore.

"Well, then," I declare grandly and grasp his free hand between both of mine, "will you do me the honour of marrying me?"

Immediately Ken swoops down to wrap me in his arms, the ring briefly forgotten. "I thought you'd never ask," he murmurs against my lips and then he's kissing me and I'm kissing him back, holding him as tightly as I can.

And as I feel his lips against mine and his arms around my body, I reflect idly that truly, there's a lot to be said for #BeingBrave.

The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'Oh, Had I a Golden Thread' (written by Pete Seeger, released by him in 1960).

A/N: Finally, right? ;) It's been a long time coming, but here we are! It's also a good place, I think, to give myself a breather after over a year of steady updates every week. Thus, I'll be taking some time off. I don't know for certain when I'll start updating again, but I plan to be back sometime in April, so do remember to check in on Wednesdays if you'd like to. Until then, please share your thoughts with me! Does the proposal meet your expectations? Was it worth the wait?

To DogMonday:
I must admit, I'm not entirely sure what you expected the royals to do in the time between the attack at around 9pm or 10pm in the night and their breakfast at 7am or 8am the next morning. I mean, it's not like they spent days on end without any reaction at all. Owen released a statement soon after the attack and Ken went to visit the victims on the very next day, before also giving an impromptu televised statement. (And this wasn't necessarily all they did either, just what we see them do in that time span. Phone calls to victims are a possibility and if there's a vigil, they will certainly send someone to attend it.) Given the short time frame we're talking about, what else would you have had them do? I honestly can't imagine much, so I'm genuinely curious =). Overall, judging from my research, their reactions are broadly in line with how the real royals (and the British government) reacted to similar attacks in the past, even attacks that claimed the lives of innocents. Attacks claiming many lives like 7/7 and the Manchester bombing got more visible and longer-lasting responses, but for the attack as I described it in the story, the response of my fictional royals seems proportionate to how the real royals reacted.
As for security training, I personally don't know anyone who's had any sort of security training provided by their employer and I've never heard of it being given to students in school either. It's possibly that this is different in the UK, but I can attest that it's not a thing all over Europe. If it's something done for people in social jobs in the UK though, I'm sure Rilla received it as part of her work at the youth centre. How that would benefit her in a situation where she's directly targeted in a planned attack, I'm not so sure though, because this is a very different sort of risk we're talking about. On the other hand, I am fairly sure that if the royals had offered her some training, she would have laughed it off, because she has a stubborn streak and wouldn't have thought it necessary before being evacuated from the musical.
Yes, the past two chapters were indeed meant to form a unity and this chapter fits into it as well, bringing this immediate story arc to a close. To me, it served two functions that you both touch on in your review. For one, it's meant to show Rilla and Ken working as a couple to overcome a trying situation, supporting each other and giving strength as much as they're receiving it. For another, it's meant to make Rilla aware that she's able to give comfort in small and big ways, to Ken, to Kaley and ultimately to many more people all over the world. That's the aspect this chapter develops, more than the other two.
The scene with the pets, to me, signifies homecoming in a literal and figurative sense. There's a special sort of comfort to be had from coming home and having a pet to cuddle, I think. And yes, the part where Ken wakes Rilla from her nap was absolutely a call back to their talk after her return to London. I wondered whether anyone would make the connection and I'm genuinely pleased that you did ;).

To Guest No.1:
Your comment made me laugh! I did indeed try for suspense with the chapter at the theatre, which is something I don't find easy to write. Dialogue comes more easily to me, but suspense relies a lot on descriptions, which is a little tricker to get right. I'm especially glad that it worked for you and that you indeed found the chapter suspenseful!

To Guest No.2:
Are you the same Guest as above? If so, I apologise for splitting up my replies, but I can't be sure with anonymous reviews =). As you can see from this chapter, what Kaley said resonated with Rilla, too, and through her, with many other people. I also think there's a lot of truth to it and also that's it's an important thing to remember. Bravery comes in all shapes and sizes and sometimes, the greatest bravery is shown by those who are the most afraid.