The Lost Princess (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction) Wattpad Featured

A Royal Pain

THE excreta hit the fan – but not in a way that Tory had expected.

She and Tom were all good – if you could call being locked down in their respective houses and not being able to see each other "all good".

The media were out in force around both Kensington and Tom's place. They had a whiff of a royal romance and they weren't about to let it go.

But Tom and Tory were the innocent parties in all this – photos had emerged of Harry and Em kissing in an alley outside an Edinburgh nightclub. Rookie mistake – except Harry was no rookie and Tory wasn't happy.

He knew better but there was a pretty girl and alcohol – that was never a good mix. The fact that the pretty girl in this case was her best friend, her lovers sister, one of the most down-to-earth people in the world, made it worse. He was a bad influence but while they were both under the microscope, it was worse for Tom and Tory.

Now because they didn't know where Em lived (thank god) but had a fair idea where Tom was, they were being watched too.

Their siblings had been a couple for less than three days and it was already impacting their lives.

Though it could have been worse.

The one positive out of all this Tory was that now Tom knew – the crap thing was that they couldn't get close enough to spend their last week before filming began, together.

Not unless they came out.

They'd been dancing around a relationship for a year now – it was the time for the Cannes festival again, marking a year since they kissed, a year since friendship blossomed into something else (and then withered away before being reborn to whatever it was now) – it was a year and they had only just got this far.

To take this fledgling relationship and throw it to the media pack-wolves before they really knew where they were going with it was tantamount to kissing things goodbye. Well that had been Tom's argument. Though he was still in shock. He found out about his sister's new "relationship" a few kilometres over the border and back in England. Tory had been asleep and Harry at the wheel when the phone calls started like a relentless wave washing over Em rhythmically, consistently, until she was drowning.

He'd stirred a little at the first call, wondering what the fuss was. After the third she'd turned off her phone and told him. Told him about the pictures, about the drunken outside kiss and when he'd shaken his head and asked if Tory knew, she told him the early morning story. She told him and Harry reiterated that they'd made Tory promise, that she'd been reluctant. And rather than the doom she had predicted, Tom had sided with his lady, sighing and grumping that their siblings would put her in such a position. By the time Tory awoke it had all been sorted.

But then the problem remained – how to get home?

The four of them couldn't be seen together, could they?

All sorts of plans were formulated on that long drive, formulated and abandoned, tossed out the window metaphorically until it had been decided that both Tom and Em would be dropped off at their father's place and Harry and Tory would continue home on their own. Thoughts of waking up with his lover the next morning were abandoned and suddenly Tom found himself on the steps of his father's house. They thought it prudent that neither Tory nor Harry come in.

And they were right. Sandy was in no mood to deal with the young royals – he was wasn't Harry's biggest fan and though he tried to seemed determined to be supportive of his daughter, it was obvious he was worried. He said as much to Tom – surprised that his son had been with them and hadn't done anything to put the "royal playboy" off. Tom had sighed and explained that Harry wasn't that bad, Harry had a good heart.