Conversations on Flight – Chapter IX
whatchuwant
queen vic is a cinnamon roll and must be protected
a ted talk by me
- short girl aesthetics
- little button nose
- actual anime eyes
- mom kept her hidden for years like she on that disney tangled shit
- giving little muslim kids candy and loving it
- ice queen more like NICE queen 100% wholesome regent
- that dress™
blessedbeyondmeasure
First ever Gen Z in power
Known Styles stan
buckyismahplum
Yes. All of this.
chocomildmuppet
no but seriously guys queen vic is properly amazing – dad killed in afganistahn when she was a little girl, almost kidnapped when she was 15 (!), THEN her mum cut her off from the world, even taking her out from school. Like not even counting the hounslow 5 just imagine the mental abuse she would have gotten from her mother who by the way fucking loves attention like swanning around polo games for the daily mail pics while she locks her daughter at home. PLUS she lost her family and then BOOM she's forced into the spotlight and made into like the world's biggest public figure overnight. But despite all this she is absolutely KILLING IT being the regal ass queen we don't deserve. Like your fave could never. #victimsarestronger
grr-plasticpanel
She's just some dumb girl with a rich dead uncle. Why do y'all even care?
whatchuwant
can you not? This post is obviously not for you.
pounceondacheeese
EAT THE RICH
BURN THE MONARCHY
FUCK THE QUEEN AND SPREAD THE WEALTH
aspudorthree
I hate this site.
In retrospect, this was a very bad idea.
In fact, not even in retrospect – in an instant. In the mere fraction of a second between descending upon and landing onto the plush velvet cushion of the ornate royal dining chair, did Will realize this was an incandescently stupid thing to agree to.
Because there he was, at the very end of the very long and uncomfortably unoccupied table, trapped between Emma on his right, the Queen at the head on his left, and Marie Louise Hanover, the Duchess of Kent and world's most tenacious strain of high society herpes, sitting directly opposite.
The vast emptiness of the grand cavernous hall clashed with the tight proximity of the unexpected party, as Will presented a calm and confident smile while he grasped his serviette from the place setting, trying to hide he fact his mind was whirring with ways to defuse this ticking time-bomb of a triumvirate.
Because Marie couldn't find out about the missile launchers. Victoria had said that's the last thing she needed, so that's what Will was going to ensure.
You absolute, soggy noodle. He could already hear Emma's knowing voice in his head, chiding his sappy conviction as she sat silently beside him. She couldn't find out what was happening between him and Victoria.
What was happening between him and Victoria?
Nothing.
His mind swayed back to the moment they had shared on the couch - finding their bodies closer than he had intended, revealing more of himself than he was used to.
But she was only just about to turn nineteen. And was the ruling monarch of the United Kingdom and other Commonwealth realms.
He was just an old fool.
So no.
There was nothing to worry about.
Will flicked the serviette across his lap and smoothed it down with his hand.
He had this.
He tried to catch the Queen's eye to silently reassure her that he fully intended to keep her secret – but for some reason her gaze was focused just past him, instead settling on Emma. Odd. Will started to turn to see his friend's reaction when he was stopped short by a self-satisfied sigh from across the table.
"Ah, William…" The Duchess let out languidly as a footman dutifully laid her serviette along her lap.
"Hmm?" Will replied a little too quickly, wanting to return to his investigation.
"It has been too long." Marie concluded smoothly, her accent still shaded with German.
"Has it?" He couldn't help but retort, when she unexpectedly burst out into a contained flutter of laughter.
"Dry as always, William." She slid him a smile with an unnerving familiarity. "We'll have the soup first, and instead of that Pinot Gris open a bottle of the 2014 Pouilly-Fumé Ladoucette." Her face switched into a cold sternness as she threw an order at militia of footmen, then just as quickly snapped back into a genial watchfulness as she returned to Will's gaze. "You haven't come to any fundraisers recently. There was this incredible one just two weeks ago, booked out the whole Natural History Museum – white tie, of course – raising funds for the ah… that cancer place."
"The London Clinic?" Will attempted.
"Yes, that's the one! What a dull name, no wonder I forget it. Anyway Vivian was there – and Charles too, you were always thick as the thieves. And I know for a fact Grace sent an invitation to your office, really you should have come."
"Ah…yes, well…" Will started, a little bemused at her unusually friendly manner towards him, and snuck a look at Victoria whose eyes had still not shifted from Emma. "Us Labour types much prefer to tax people dry now, haven't you heard?"
"You do your party a great disservice, Mr Prime Minister." Marie teased.
"Nothing unusual there then." He smiled, sensing that Emma was rolling her eyes beside him. "But no, I suspect your friends have gotten a rather sick of me, is all."
"Their loss." Marie smirked as the footman returned to her side with the requested wine and filled her glass.
"Well…" He started, attempting to hide a frown of confusion at her odd behaviour. "I suppose I can't really blame them for not wanting to be seen fraternising with the enemy."
"Pssh! I am so sick of this thinking of enemies." She waved off the footman to serve the others and she picked up her wine. "It is so boring, it gets us nowhere. I think – you must know, William, that while I do associate with many of the Tories, I myself am a firm believer in reaching out across the party lines."
Her lips formed a smile along the thin edge of her glass, and Will immediately felt his insides seize up in dread.
Oh God.
She was trying to flirt with him.
He didn't even have to look over to Emma to know she realized this too. He could practically feel the laughter radiating out of the minx, which she could only clamp down by whipping her glass away from the footman and taking a sudden large gulp of wine.
Will wanted bury himself into a fifty foot hole.
What on earth was she even thinking? It wasn't as if he was unaccustomed to this sort of propositioning – indeed he wouldn't deny that he had capitalized on it more times than was honourable – but the last person he expected it from was Marie bloody Hanover. The woman who looked so far down her nose at him at every stupid social event he could have sworn 'betraying his class' was in her mind the moral equivalent of shooting her bloody dog.
"How…open minded of you." He attempted to respond casually, as his mind grasped for any way to change the subject from her growing leer across from him – when he was saved by the swift reappearance of another poised footmen, elegantly laying out an ornate bowl of soup before then.
"Your Majesty, Your Grace, Your Excellency…" The butler gave a short bow from the end of the table as he ran through the necessary titles, when Will noticed his gaze fall on Emma awkwardly. "…for the first course we have a spring gazpacho with parmesan crisp." The older man pronounced, completely ignoring Will's friend, to which he could sense there was another bout of laughter being painfully supressed next to him. "And for the second – "
"Thank you Stevens you can leave us." Marie jumped in as the butler promptly cut himself off and gave another bow. "And your footmen too. One of us shall call you when we are ready for the next course."
"As you wish." The man bowed for a third time then diligently stepped away to the door, slowly leaving them to be alone and unwatched, and Will's stomach to drop.
He needed to get out of there. He was the head of government, he had things to do – important things – excuses he could easily use to very quickly escape the simpering advances of the woman opposite him.
But one look at Victoria rooted him to his chair. She sat at the head of the table, posture as poised as ever, but her eyes were downcast to her soup as she seemed resigned to a self-conscious silence. So unlike the fierce woman he had come to know - the one whose life and spirit jumped out of her even in moments of contemplation. This was someone different, and he didn't like it one bit.
Will picked up his spoon.
He had a promise to keep. And at the very least, maybe he could be enough eye candy for Marie to distract her from bigger issues.
The footmen had finally all shuffled out of the hall, and the door shut with a heavy click.
"So." Marie sat back in her chair confidently as she took the three of them in with a smile. "What's the news?"
Or, maybe not.
Will shot his gaze to the Queen, but she only looked back at him, eyes pleading for saviour.
"The ah…the news?" He sidestepped, feigning ignorance as he dipped his spoon into his soup.
"The reason you have called off the reception tonight." Marie replied with a happy self-assurance. "You must want to talk about it, that is why we are all here yes?"
Victoria remained mute.
Her mother waited expectedly.
Nothing for it then.
"I ah…" Will dived in. "I just thought, since we were all here…it would be quite lovely to have dinner with you." He attempted a warm and charming smile. "A catch-up, as it were."
Marie took pause for a second, then her eyes began to narrow. "But you are here for a reason in the first place, no?"
"Well…" He tried to wade back carefully. "Yes and no – "
"You are here, so yes." Marie challenged with a grating smile as she rose the glass to her lips.
Will shifted slightly in his seat. "Well yes, but – "
"But what?"
"It's complicated."
"So un-complicate it."
"Your Grace, I – "
"Why did Lehzen cancel the bird party?" Marie cut through with focused resolve, her now cold expression something Will was far more used to.
He looked to Victoria, whose eyes had fallen again as if she were bracing for an inevitable hit. He was stuck, his mind completely vacant of any excuse or distraction to throw at the Duchess' ambush, when an unexpected voice dropped in beside him.
"Apologies, Your Grace…" Emma gracefully interjected to save him. "…but I am afraid we are not at liberty to tell you. You see, it is a matter of national security."
Marie stilled.
"National security?"
"Yes ma'am." Emma replied calmly. "I am sorry, but you do not have the right security clearance."
"Do I not?" Marie threw Emma a look that could freeze time. "Well then. I will not be one to jeopardize national security." The Duchess slowly began to pick up her mask of cordiality again as she returned to her soup and gave Will a look of attempted humility. "Forgive me for intruding. I did not know."
"Nothing to forgive, Your Grace." Will offered kindly, which Marie received with a twisted smile.
The great hall sank into silence as they all turned to their dish, the occasional clink of silver against the delicate porcelain bowls echoing through the emptiness as if each hit was a creak in the wheel, tightening the strained awkwardness of the party.
Will couldn't help but feel utterly useless as he stared into the blood red soup, sympathising with the sad shard of cheese that was slowly being drowned in its chilly depths. But then again, it was a feeling he had gotten quite used to over the years.
"So…" Marie's smooth voice broke in again, and Will looked up with the others to see she had aimed her focus at Emma. "Miss…?"
"Emma, Your Grace." His friend replied diligently, all of them knowing full well that the Duchess had already been introduced to her. "Emma Portman."
"You are William's Chief of Staff?" Marie asked with an unnerving pleasantness.
"I am."
"How lovely." The Duchess returned back to her soup casually. "It is strange we have not met before, have you worked for William long?"
Will noticed that Victoria had now focused her gaze keenly on Emma as she gave Marie a tight smile. "I've been working with Will for almost eight years now. But I've known him far longer than that."
"Oh really?" The whole table turned to Victoria as her young voice unexpectedly jumped in. "How long? I mean – how did you meet?"
"Back in Cambridge, ma'am." Emma looked kindly at Victoria.
"Oh, that's nice." The Queen's face seemed to drop the tiniest bit, before quickly picking up into a smile.
"Emma was president of Young Labour back then." Will found an opening.
"Yes and Will was attempting to date my treasurer." Emma's eyes caught his with a twinkle of shared memories.
"And did he succeed?" Marie interjected from across the table, her eyes warily switching between him and Emma.
"Well he certainly succeeded in bungling up our budget that year." Emma shot him a wry smile.
"Once again I prove I am a man of consistency." He met his friend with a raised brow.
"Are you two um – " Victoria's voice was tight as she interrupted, causing them to snap out of their private look and turn to the Queen, who had stopped short in her question when their focus was on her and seemed unsure how to proceed. "I mean… it uh – it must be nice. Working with your old friend."
"It certainly helps, Ma'am." Emma offered.
"That's nice." Victoria replied with a tight smile, then looked down to her soup. "That's… how nice."
"Drina dear, remember it's better to stay silent than to repeat yourself." Marie shot out quickly without even looking at her daughter, as if it were a well-worn mantra. Victoria seemed to sink lower in her chair.
"It is indeed nice." Will sped in with a smile as she looked up from her soup. "Your Majesty. But it's also rather a double edge sword - you see… " He leaned in conspiratorially, to which she slightly began to mirror fondly. "…since she knows me so well, it makes it much harder to get away with anything."
"Got you on a tight leash, then." Maria dropped in bluntly between sips of her wine.
"I ah…" Will began awkwardly as the conversation crashed to a halt, and straightened himself up in his seat. "…Yes, I suppose she does."
The great hall plunged into silence.
Maria hit her empty wine glass against the table.
"Shall we call for the next course?" She caught them all with a smile.
The party looked at each other, unsure for a moment how to proceed, when Will found that Marie had trained her gaze at Emma, and knew there was only one option.
"Certainly." He placed his napkin on the table before his old friend had a chance to push her chair out. "Excuse me." He gave a small nod then stood up from the table as Marie flicked her eyes between him and Emma with an amused smugness.
Will's measured steps echoed through the grand expanse of the dining hall as he made his way past the long line of empty chairs to the tall oak door in the far corner.
One last chance. He could just keep on walking.
"Don't try and guzzle it down now Drina. Leave it. You had plenty of time." Marie's orders floated in from behind him, causing his insides to stew.
Will opened the heavy door with a tight push, and found a small circle of footmen waiting at the end of the dark corridor.
"Mr Prime Minister." Will almost jumped when the butler's voice appeared far closer than he had expected, and the small proud man shot up from a hallway chair just beside him. "Are you done with the gazpacho?"
"Yes, we are. Thank you sir." Will gave a polite smile when the butler threw up a hand and the crowd of footman began to march down the hall towards him. Will quickly turned about face and returned to the dining hall, spying the small trio in silence at the far end, when the stream of servers overtook him and flowed in a line down the long table where they busily got to work.
Bowls and plates disappeared with a flourish, crystal wine glasses refilled with new stock, as the well-drilled dance of the footmen encircled the guests. Finally Will reached the end of the table, and with a sharp slide out, his chair was presented to him in expectation.
The footmen stilled in watchful courtesy as Will lowered himself back onto the chair and into the icy trap, then with a nod from the Duchess they silently hurried back in their long lines down the length of the hall and out the door, leaving small precarious towers of chicken and vegetables in front of the dinner guests.
Before he had a chance to pick up his silver cutlery, Victoria had already started on the main dish, knocking down the gastronomic column and cutting away small slices of meat with determination, her attention focused squarely on the action.
Marie leaned back in her chair and took another sip of wine. "Why the rush Drina? It's not as if we are going to run out of food any time soon."
Victoria ignored her mother, and instead swallowed a forkful of pumpkin.
"Or do you have somewhere more important to be?" The Duchess challenged her silent daughter, lifting a single sharp eyebrow.
Victoria paused for the smallest of seconds, raising her gaze to her mother, but then looked down again.
Marie pursed her lips then threw a rueful smile at Will. "Teenagers. You hardly get two words out of them anymore."
"I'm not - " Victoria burst out with a small voice, frozen in her action.
"What?" Marie turned fully to her in her chair, brow raised in a challenge. "Speak up."
Victoria clenched her jaw for a moment, when Will could have sworn she flicked her eyes to Emma for the smallest of seconds when she returned back to the remnants of her meal and submitted herself to grudging silence once more.
"You see, William?" Marie turned her gaze back to him. "Nothing. Always nothing. Do you know she used to be much more open. Used to tell me everything. But now…" She shrugged and gave a limp wave of her hand in dismissal, then took another sip of wine. "My apologies that you have had to deal with her like this. It must be quite a burden along with everything happening in the Parliament."
"Not in the least, I assure you – "
"Don't be so modest. I know you have helped - like giving her the speech when she threatened to write it herself - that saved us. And god knows how tedious it must be to have to teach a whole course on diplomatic relations while you are dealing with all these hostile forces attacking us around the world. Now is the moment to be stronger than ever before. I would help you with this, I wish to help you – but as you see I will get nowhere. She doesn't trust me with anything anymore."
Will heard a set of cutlery being placed on the table, and turned to Victoria to see that she had now stilled, her gaze set outwards along the empty table.
"I trust you, mama." She said tightly.
"Do you now?" Marie looked unconvinced as she stared down her daughter.
The room fell silent, and Will waited for his moment to step in to counter Marie's strikes as soon as Victoria submitted again – but instead she remained still, her back straight, her breathing steady.
She looked to Marie.
"It's a matter of national security." Victoria proclaimed quietly with fragile conviction.
"Yes I heard what Ms Portman said the first time, Drina."
Victoria paused for a moment, but did not turn away from her mother.
"You do not have the clearance. You are – "
"What?"
Victoria didn't reply.
"What, Drina?" Marie dug in firmer, her mask finally falling. "Not important enough to know? Of course not. Not when I hosted the world's leaders while you hid away in a room and got drunk, not when I took the slack tonight when it was suddenly announced by your secretary that everyone was to immediately leave without any explanation. No, of course, I am not important enough to share critical information with. Especially when it concerns my family."
Victoria drew a steadying breath. "You are important – "
"You have a very odd way of showing – "
" – but I never asked you to do any of that – "
"How could I not step in, I am your mother – "
"And I am the Queen."
Victoria's calm and clear voice rang through the hall, cutting through Marie to silence. Will could feel his heartbeat begin to rise as the young woman suddenly sat in firm resolution, the inner strength and radiance that he had come to find so enchanting, finally on full display to the world as it froze the room.
"I am your Queen." Victoria spoke with burgeoning confidence, as her mother looked on, startled by her daughter's sudden change. "I know you love me, and I know you just want to help, and I am very grateful for that - but this is my role, and my responsibility alone." She took a pause, as if giving the words time to settle into herself. "So when I say you don't have the proper clearance, then you don't. You have no authority other than that which I decide to honour you with."
Maria just frowned.
"Drina you – "
"That is not our name." The Queen cut down her mother sternly.
The older woman stared at the younger, her gazed focused sharply on this new figure in front of her, trying to fathom this alien dynamic.
"It was the name I gave you." Marie spoke carefully, coldly.
"And we no longer have use for it." A hint of a quiver ran through Victoria's voice, but she continued to hold strong. "Now, if you only intend on arguing with us tonight, then we suggest you leave."
The room ached with tense silence.
"Am I being dismissed?" Marie raised a brow.
"Yes." Victoria said simply.
The Duchess slowly placed her glass back down onto the table when her eyes flicked over to Will and caught him with a pointed look.
"Well then, if you'd excuse me..." She said tightly, to which he could only return with a quiet nod of acknowledgment.
Victoria remained still and poised, though her gaze had returned to looking out across the long table, while the sound of heavy friction between wood and felt filled the hall as Marie slowly pushed out her chair, then gracefully stood up. She paused for a moment, taking another look at her daughter, as if in expectation for her to retract her decision profusely, but Victoria stayed silent. Determined.
Her mother turned and walked away.
The room listened to the clip of her heels along the length of the wooden floor, slightly fading as they moved further away, then replaced with the click of a handle, then old hinges creaking, then a heavy slam of oak.
Silence.
Will looked back to Victoria, whose shoulders had lowered in relief as she let out a long denied breath.
She seemed in her own world, her eyes flicking down and glazed over slightly as if she was only just waking, when they shot straight to him.
"I'm so sorry you had to see that." She said quickly, self-consciously.
Will couldn't help but jump in. "Not at all ma'am that was – "
"Embarrassing."
"Incredible." The word leapt out of him. He quickly tried to gather himself together, unable to hold back a soft smile as he gave her a deferential nod. "You were incredible, Your Majesty."
"Yeah?" She asked with a voice that seemed so her.
"Yes."
He could have sworn her cheeks began to redden slightly, but then she cruelly broke from his gaze and looked over to the door at the end of the room.
"I don't suppose I'll ever hear the end of it." Her face scrunched up in thought, in a manner that Will couldn't help but find adorable. "But it had to been done, I guess... Yes. It did."
"I suspect it was a long time coming." He said softly.
Victoria just looked down and pursed her lips into a sad smile.
Will felt something in his chest pulling him in, a primal urge to lift her out of her melancholy.
"Don't fancy a little bird watching now, do you?" He attempted in feigned seriousness.
Victoria broke out in a breath of a laugh, which he couldn't help but share.
"No." She smiled genuinely, catching his eyes, when she let out a small sigh. "No, Mr M. I think I've kept you for too long already." She didn't need to speak for him to know they were both thinking of the same thing – the slow creep of the outside world darkening their moment together – he needed to talk to MI6, needed to call the Emir, needed to stop the sky from falling in on them.
He took in a heavy breath.
Back to reality, then.
"Thank you." She caught his eyes one last time with a look that made his thoughts still. "And thank you." She looked past him, when Will suddenly remembered that Emma was with them at the table too.
"It was an honour, ma'am." His friend replied respectfully. "But please, if you want, we can stay a little longer and – "
"No, that's alright." Victoria replied kindly, when her brow furrowed in thought for a brief moment, then relaxed into a calm line as she took in the grand room with a steady confidence, the thoughts behind her beautiful composure utterly beguiling and unknowable to him.
"I'll be ok."
The blinking blue line pulsated against the bright white emptiness of the text box.
Will took another drag of his cigarette, filling his lungs with burning smoke while his thumb hovered over the keys illuminated from under glass.
Nothing.
He could write nothing, and everything.
"So it does work." Emma's voice suddenly appeared behind him and he quickly turned off the screen on his phone before she could catch the word 'queenie' displayed above a trail of messengers as she emerged from the shadows.
"Hmm?" Will turned to look at her innocently as he blew a channel of smoke out from the corner of his mouth.
"Your phone." Emma hitched her bag over her shoulders and walked down the steps to join him on the gravel courtyard of the palace. "Thought it might have died, seeing as we had to come all the way here in person to talk to the Queen, rather than, you know, call."
She looked at him expectedly. Will made a concerted effort to keep his expression blank.
"I'm sorry Ems, I didn't know that travelling the entire stretch of The Mall was such an exhausting endeavour for you." He countered gravely, to which she only rolled her eyes and turned away towards their waiting car. "I'll get the Grenadiers to dig you a direct tunnel, shall I?" He called out as she marched away with her back to him. "Or would you prefer they build you a zip line?"
Her hand flew up beside her head and presented a single middle finger to him.
Will let out a low chuckle and took a final drag then crouched down to the gravel to put out his cigarette, the smoke whirling around his face as he let it seep from his lips while crushing the soft butt against the dusty grey stones.
He let out a silent wish that Victoria hadn't looked out the window and seen him still smoking.
Standing up again, his tired bones creaking, he ferreted through his inside pocket for his ubiquitous silver cylinder, then made his way across the enclosed courtyard of Buckingham Palace as he stuffed the extinguished butt in with the stale pile of others within the small chamber, and snapped the lid closed.
One of his black suited security guards gave a nod in greeting and opened the door of the sedan for him then moved off to the lead car, when Will saw that Emma was still waiting on the other side, watching him with an inscrutable look on her face, over the dark roof of the car.
"What?" He asked as he rested an arm along the top of the open car door.
Her brow lowered, and she opened her mouth to say something before quickly shutting it again, then darted her eyes about the courtyard carefully. The security guards had now all found their way standing by their cars, some distance away from them.
"What?" He asked again, softer.
Her mouth twisted into a frown.
"Just…be careful, Will." She said quietly.
He felt his stomach drop.
Of course she saw through him. She sees everything.
"I'm always careful." He attempted a carefree and boyish smile, but her expression remained unchanged.
Instead she took one look behind him to the palace entrance, then lowered herself into the car and out of his view.
Will took in a breath of the cold night air, feeling the eyes of the waiting guards upon him.
He was careful.
He looked up to the dark sky, only the artificial stars of descending aircraft visible through the London haze, and let out a heavy sigh.
But he was also an idiot.