SILENT HURT
by: Kayryn
Disclaimers: Meg Cabot's and Walt's, may he rest in peace. Not mine. Never was, never will be.
Rated: G
Timeline: Between the two movies.
A/N: It was never made clear when Philippe and Pierre were born so I'm making the years 1963 for Pierre and 1966 for Philippe. If Clarisse is the same age as Julie, she'd been 28 and 31 when she gave birth to them. This just for the sake of reference.
Clarisse stared at the newspaper that lay on the table next to her. The letters on the front page were screaming of headache, scandal and most of all, heartache. What disturbed Clarisse even more was that this was the most trusted source of information in Genovia. The newspaper had a good reputation for not publishing trashy material. And yet…
Royal Scandal! Philippe's Illegitimate son revealed!
The paper claimed that Philippe had had a torrid affair with a married Duchess some twenty years ago and that the now recently deceased woman had given birth to a son - Philippe's son. The paper went even further in its claims of conspiracy theories that were supposedly plotted to both keep the child a secret and get rid of his mother. Just the absurdity of the claims made Clarisse wonder why the paper would even try to get away with anything such as this.
The Queen rubbed her aching temples and sighed. It would be so much better to deal with this whole mess now she knew that. But against her better judgment instead of calling to the press secretary and starting damage control she pushed the paper away and rose to her feet moving to the window. Watching the birds fly across the sky over the garden always managed to bring her some amount of peace and she sought comfort in the familiar escape from reality. She was trying to take it as just another thing to smooth over with the press, but this wasn't about her, or Rupert. Or even Pierre. If it were, Clarisse knew she'd have an easier time of letting it go. But it was about her son she had buried and who deserved to be remembered with honor, not scandalous gossip and false accusations. It was about Philippe. It was different.
Checking the time she counted the hours until she would need to call her granddaughter and let her know about the article. It was still nighttime in the States, but Clarisse wanted to make sure she would be able to catch Mia before she attended her classes. The girl needed to hear this from her and not some gossip journalist looking for more dirt. Clarisse had already thought of how to prepare Mia if and when she'd be facing members of the press during the upcoming days.
Turning her gaze back to the garden she let her head rest against the cool window. Closing her eyes, Clarisse just stood there, letting memories of Philippe flutter through her mind, flashes of him as a baby and a toddler, starting school and a teenager. Everyone had always said he looked like her, while she had always though he looked more like his father than anyone. She sighed.
"Your Majesty?"
Startled, Clarisse opened her eyes and stood away from the window before she realized who the other person in the room was.
"Joseph," she greeted him.
She watched as he made his way across the room to the side table and poured a drink. He walked over to her and placed the glass into her hand.
"Drink this."
"It's not even noon," she said and tried to give the glass back to him.
"When one needs a drink one does not look at the time," he told her, once again pressing the glass to her hand.
As she sipped the strong liquid and felt it burn its way down she saw Joseph studying her carefully.
"You know it will die away soon."
Knowing full well what he was talking about she just nodded.
"The truth will come out and this will all be forgotten."
Not trusting her voice she nodded again. He had that affect on her. He was a natural when it came to breaking down her barriers even though she was trying hard to keep them up. Willing to keep the tears at bay she cleared her throat, attempting to speak. And failed miserably.
Without a word Joe took the now empty glass from her hand and placed it on the table before directing her to the couch where he sat her. Sitting next to her Joseph wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. A sob escaped her lips and she turned to seek comfort in his embrace.
Knowing no words could offer her solace Joseph did the only thing he could; he held her as she let out the pain she's kept inside her all morning.
"I miss him, Joseph. I miss him so much," Clarisse whispered after a while.
"I do, too."
She drew back enough so that she could look at him and as their eyes locked the never spoken truth passed between them once again.
Clarisse reached out her hand to caress his cheek. "Oh, Joseph."
How much had he given up for her. He'd lost friends, family… and his son. All because he loved her.
He leaned into her touch. He never had been able acknowledge his son, but there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. Their lives have never been easy. They'd been forced to hide their feelings from each other all these decades except for a brief weekend some 37 years ago. And yet, he had no regrets.
Breathing in deeply, she closed the distance between them again and let herself absorb the feel of him, drawing strength and comfort. There was so much still unsaid between them so much that was nonetheless understood without words spoken. They'd gotten very good at it over the years.
As the noon came and went, neither Clarisse not Joseph made an effort to move as they held each other each lost in memories of the past and wondered whether the future would offer them a real chance at happiness at last.
the end