The Throne (Prince Harry fanfic #6)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Mister Fawkes stood in front of Lucy like she was prey and him predator. However, Lucy disagreed with that. She was going to be bullied by this man. She wasn't scared at him, which made him dangerous. He looked at her so evenly and calmly, too collected for his own good. Mister Fawkes was a man who lost something, and he tried to recovered it, like all humans. Lucy needed to remember that: he was a human.

It was easy to look at "bad guys" like they were just bad. They were inherently evil. It wasn't true. The "bad guys" had feelings and reasons. They weren't one dimensional. And though you may not have agreed with the "bad guys'" reasons, they were there for a reason. It was also easy to think that if there was a problem, you could've just killed the problem. Ideas couldn't be killed. If you killed a person with that idea, it mostly grew. Others started to believe.

Mister Fawkes had followers that were more than just anti-monarchists. These people were willing to commit the worst crimes. The next step was terrorism, which could've been called freedom fighting. These people fought for their freedom. Lucy needed to fight for her own.

Eyes watching her, Mister Fawkes told his followers to leave, and they did without question. These people would've followed him to their deaths, but that was wrong. Yet they wore masks, in some hope of survival, Lucy reminded herself. The door closed again, but the bright lights stayed on. Mister Fawkes stayed in front of her, and Lucy didn't move.

"You must be hungry, Miss Smith. You cooperate, I can get you food an drink," Mister Fawkes suggested nicely. But only food and drink came after she did the work. Mister Fawkes didn't believe in patience and coaxing someone into helping.

"I don't have the stomach for it."

"I see you have vomited over yourself." He found amusement by her embarrassment. "Is it from nerves? Are you secretly scared?"

"Compared to being outwardly scared?" Lucy asked. "That's what you expected, for me to scream and beg."

"I expected some fear, but not a lot. I know your past after all."

Lucy's past included many things, and all of them proved she wasn't someone who knew the world fear. "And I know none of yours," Lucy lied, when she already deduced some.

Mister Fawkes held an even gaze on her. "Why did you vomit? If it's not from nerves, are you pregnant again, Miss Smith? Another blessing to your already large family. You and the Prince are quite the rabbits, aren't you?" he asked. "If so, I would hope that you would think of that child's life. You want it to survive."

"Is this about religion?"

"Why would it be about religion, Miss Smith?"

His comment about wanting a child to survive didn't help his case. He still thought about the afterlife. He thought of his sins, and there are very few more terrible sins than hurting a child. "Guy Fawkes was Catholic, and I used to be Catholic," Lucy explained.

"You never took up Protestantism."

"I never took up religion." Sundays were meant for sleeping. "After four hundred years, you haven't let any of it go."

"Some things are not be forgot, like folk verse says." Mister Fawkes held his gun loosely. "Crimes have been committed against Catholics."

"Are we ignoring the Crusades?" Lucy asked. Tilting her head, Lucy's hair fell to one side. She watched him. Her body was so still that she didn't breathe. Understanding grew in her head like branches on a tree. "It's not about religion; it's about penis size. And you have a small penis so you have to prove you have a big fucker."

Mister Fawkes grew still but not angry. He had this emotions under control. "I thought we could be mature."

"You chose the wrong royal for that one." She matched his gaze. "All wars start over some religion, in Godly right. Do you wish to start another?"

A grin crossed his face. "With any help from you, a war will not happen."

Lucy disagreed, "You wish for a rebellion, Mister Fawkes, and a rebellion includes war. People don't just let it go easily. People don't like change. The monarchy is yet loved by people, and you can't just change minds over night."

"What if I say I wish to start a revolution? I would change minds then."

"You don't have enough people for a revolution."

"I don't? Are your polls not showing how people move away from the monarchy? Has the government cut back on your money? Do people not longer visit your monuments?"

"You think of us as Absolutists. We're decorative. We hold no power. We bring money and tourism to this country. We have no hold in government or in political parties. We are decorative."

Mister Fawkes sighed. "This is what I mean, Miss Smith. You are not one of them. You look at yourself as decorative, when the monarchy yet holds power. You ignore it. We don't want to punish you; we want to punish them."

"They are my family, Mister Fawkes. Do you think I'll truly turn my back on them so easily?"

"Yes." Mister Fawkes walked around Lucy's personal basement cell. He became predator again. "I know secrets, Miss Smith. The King never liked you, because you were never like them. Your personality never fit in. You are too strong to be with them, when you're supposed to be fragile and gentle, a true lady." His last jab was just to see what she would do. Lucy stayed still. "They never respected you or even liked you. They tried to make you into something you are not, Miss Smith, when you should be free as well. You deserve to be out of a cage.

"You were put up with because Harry loved you. I heard rumors about your divorce. I know they are true. All of this fairy tale ending will be called off."

Lucy turned to him. "You accused me of being pregnant; now you accuse me of divorce. I cannot be both, can I? I would be such terrible Catholic."

"Yes, but you know what it's like to be part of a revolution."

She laughed. "If you know so much about me, then you know how loyal I am. Why would I do anything for you?"

Mister Fawkes paused in front of Lucy. "Miss Smith, you must think about your children at a time like this."