The Unexpected Journey-A Prince Harry Fan Fic

Chapter 110

The first three weeks of Maddie and Harry's marriage was like a crash course in her new life. Though Maddie knew better, she had a brief, fleeting thought that perhaps it was set up just to try her; force her to get her "royal legs" at the very beginning. Though that clearly wasn't the case, she had no idea the whirlwind into which she was about to jump.

First up. The Trooping The Colour.

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"Holy shit..." Harry's eyes went wide as Maddie stepped down the last few stairs, joining him in the entryway. "You look amazing..."

"Thank you," she smiled, a slight blush rising to her cheeks. "You're sure the dress is okay? It's not too...I don't know..." Her hands ran over the printed skirt.

"It's not too..." Harry shook his head, taking her waist in his hands and drawing her closer to him. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she repeated. "I want to get it right, you know? It is my first Trooping the Colour."

"It is," he nodded as he leaned to kiss her. "I feel like I should have given you a gift."

"Well surely there are cards made for this sort of thing," Maddie grinned, hugging him tight.

"One would think," he kissed her again and released her; reaching for his hat as the car pulled up out front. "I'll see what I can do."

"Of course..." Maddie's head tipped to the side as she watched him walk in front of her, reaching for the door handle. "You in that uniform is really gift enough."

"Now see," Harry stopped and, though he didn't turn around, she knew he was smirking. "I can feel your eyes on my ass."

"Mmm..." Maddie laughed lightly, plucking her clutch from the side table and moving towards the door. Her hand reached out to him. "Can you feel my hand there now?" With a light pat, she moved past him through the open door.

"Oh..." Harry shook his head, his teeth biting at the grin on his face. "This is going to be an interesting day."

"I would imagine," she tossed a wink back at him as the moved towards the car.

"Do you think you'll be able to control your hands...and your eyes...while we're working?" He loved the back and forth they had; the light ribbing, the playful nature.

"I don't know," she shrugged; her eyes too wide, her face too innocent. He could almost feel the sarcasm in the air. "But I do promise to try."

"See that you do," he was trying for stern as he watched her slide into the car. Rounding to his side, he slid in next to her; the door closing behind them. In a beat of a second, they were on their way. Maddie had grown to learn that, when it came to matters of The Queen, everything moved like clockwork.

"It's strange..." Maddie broke character as she looked out the window. "It feels like I'm dressing up to be paraded around town." Harry smiled into himself; his voice soft and comforting.

"It feels that way because it is that way." Maddie looked to him then and he shrugged. "At least the first part of it is."

"That's so strange." She smiled and relaxed. She understood it, was fine with it, expected it; it just felt a bit strange.

"Would it help to know some of the history behind it?"

"It would."

"Okay," he nodded, pulling her hand into his. "The Trooping of the Colour has been a tradition of the British infantry regiments since the Seventeenth Century. In 1748 it began marking the official celebration of the Sovereign's birthday..."

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The very second they arrived at Buckingham Palace, Maddie knew it was going to be an emotional day for her. She was silly that way sometimes. She was a strong, independent woman who had the ability to keep her emotions at bay when working with clients—even during some very dire situations in Bendal and with children who had been victims of great trauma. But in reality, outside of the workplace, she was quite the sap. And this day, the traditions, the music, the pomp of it all—she just knew she was going to get teary.

And she did.

Upon their arrival, they had moved seamlessly from the modern luxury of the car to the historical antiquity of the carriages. As William and Charles were a part of the Trooping, Harry and Maddie were riding with Camilla and Kate. In what might have been the strangest part of the day, both women dipped into a curtsy as they greeted Maddie and Harry. Though Maddie knew that was protocol—her title-bearing husband was by her side, there's were not—it didn't make it any less shocking to see it unfold before her.

Ever the gentlemen, Harry had offered his hand first to his step mother, than to his very pregnant sister and finally—ever the flirtatious jokester, he had offered his hand to his wife; his eyes raking over her as she stepped into the carriage.

"You know I could feel your eyes on my ass," she muttered to him as he took his seat next to her; the proper smile never fading from her lips.

"Did you want to feel my hands there later?" He whispered back; everyone adjusting in their seats in the final few seconds before they began.

"Yes please," Maddie nodded; not one hint of impropriety on her face.

And in that moment, when his eyes lifted to hers, recognizing the twinkle that radiated amidst the poised expression, Harry felt that tug in his heart and, frankly, in the seat of his stomach. God, he loved this woman.

And they were off.

As the procession began through the gates of Buckingham Palace and out onto the streets, lined with people just as they had been a few weeks ago for the wedding, Maddie smiled across the carriage at the other two women. Two of the very few who had been in her seat before. Kate offered a wink. Camilla offered a warm, comforting smile and, as though a 1-2-3 count was given, the three women turned their smiles to the crowds; their hands rising in waves.

Inside their carriage, there was light conversation; Camilla asking about the honeymoon, inquiring about the baby and Kate's comfort. Harry made them all laugh with a funny story from the year before and Camilla made Maddie feel at ease when she nodded in her direction and told her she was doing marvelously.

The parade route wasn't long and it was considerably less stressful and less focused on Maddie than her very first trip in a carriage had been. She had smiled, she had waved, she had bowed her head when necessary and, when Harry's hand found a momentary home on her knee, she had squeezed it lightly before meeting his eyes in a shared moment.

And then they were there. The Royal Family was greeted and escorted inside where they would all watch the festivities unfold from a window overlooking it all. As members of the family filed in, Maddie was delighted to catch up with everyone; smiling, hugging, kissing...and a few slight curtsies before they settled in to watch.

And Maddie had been right. The music from outside was loud and pompous and full of heart pulling strums and beats. The regiments moved past The Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh offering salute after salute. And, somewhere in the middle of it all, Maddie's feelings washed forward and tears moved to her eyes.

"Would you look at this," Eugenie's voice was trying for a whisper—a loud enough whisper so that the cousins around her could hear it. "We have a crier."

"What?" Harry perked up, his attention shifting from the marching below; his eyes traveling to his wife.

"What?" She turned to face them, her fingers wiping at her wet eyes. There were a few muffled giggles around her.

"You're crying?" His hand rested on her leg as he smiled sweetly.

"Yes," she sniffed. "I'm crying." Her eyes shifted to Beatrice who was covering up a laugh. "What? It's...beautiful. The music, the pageantry, the tradition, and your grandparents are..." Maddie sighed as she looked out at them. "They are just lovely."

"They are," Beatrice agreed, her eyes following Maddie's and Harry's heart softened. It made him warm to watch his wife, an American by birth, be so caught up in British traditions, in his traditions, that she was drawn to tears. His thumb ran back and forth over her leg as his attention returned to where hers was strictly focused.

The traditions. The music. The pageantry.

It wasn't the last time that Maddie would tear up (that day or in the future) and it wasn't the last time the group of cousins would point it out and poke gentle fun. It was their way of loving her, of breaking her in—making her feel a part of things.

Thankfully, Maddie could take it.

Hours later when they were all gathered to step out on the balcony at Buckingham Palace for the flyover, Maddie watched with a wide smile and a hint of tears in her eyes as the 41 gun salute rang out into the air; her shoulders flinching just slightly with every shot. And when The Queen led the family outside, Maddie took a deep breath and smiled out at the enormous crowd, the memory of her first time out there still fresh on her mind.

Harry stepped up next to her, his hands folded in front of him as he leaned to whisper in her ear. "Someday this will become so routine, it won't hit as hard. The emotion won't be so heavy."

"Wow..." She let out a deep breath and turned a smile to him. "I really, really hope not."

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"You know..." Maddie stood in front of their bathroom mirror late that night, pulling pins from her hat, from her hair. "I actually feel a little terrible taking this all out..." She laughed softly as Harry appeared in the mirror behind her; wet and warm from his shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, his chest glistening.

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows, roughing a towel over his spiky hair.

"Tara spends so much time making these...creations." She pulled at another pin, extracting the hat from her head; resting it on the counter. "I feel like I'm destroying a piece of art."

"Hmm..." Harry smiled, laying his towel on the counter; his hands moving up to her hair. "Do you want my help?"

"Yes please," she smiled at him through the mirror and both of their hands went to work. In less than a minute, they had pulled a small pile of pins from her hair and, with a shake of her head, her blonde locks fell in a cascade of curls and twists. She sighed at the relief it brought to her scalp. "There we go...much better." As she gathered the random pins, moving them to the larger pile, she caught him in the mirror. Her eyes locked with his—intent on her. "Hi." Her hands paused, her lips curling up.

"Hi." His heart tugged, his stomach pulled. He couldn't help it. It was out of his hands. She just had this effect on him. It had been a long day for both of them—not a difficult day, but a long day, one that kept them in the public eye for hours. And she had done marvelously. She had stood tall and proud and confident at his side the entire day; never once wavering or fleeing or stumbling over herself. And now, as she took her hair down, as she stood halfway undone in her dress without the sweater, in her stockings without her heels, he was so completely drawn to her.

And, as his hands reached out without warning to lower the zipper at the back of her dress, he had the fleeting question—would it always be like this? Was this how it was now? She, stepping into this role with grace and aplomb and in such a way that it left him at her mercy?

"What are you doing?" Her voice was soft, her grin coy as his fingers finished the zipper; moving up to her shoulders where they began to push the fabric from her skin.

"Well..." Harry moved closer to her, his lips dropping to her now bared shoulder as he pushed the dress down her arms. "I seem to remember you asking..." The dress fell to the ground at her feet, his hand sliding around her waist and when Maddie groaned, Harry grinned and stepped closer. "Very politely I might add..." His eyes met hers in the mirror before he turned her around, pressing her lace covered chest to his bare, wet one.

"Oh!" Maddie gasped at the contact, her eyes flashing excitement at the sensation.

"For my hands..." They ran, firm and tight, down her waist, over her hips, around to her backside. "On your ass."

"I did," she nodded, her teeth biting at her red lips, her eyes looking up at him through lowered, dark lashes. "Are you about to give me my first Trooping the Colour gift?"

"Ha!" Harry's head tipped back in laughter, momentarily derailing the seriousness with which he had moved them to this spot. His eyes fell back to hers. "You were amazing today."

"At the smiling and waving?" She kidded.

"Yes," he nodded, lifting her up and onto the counter behind her; stepping between her legs. "At the smiling and the waving..." His head dipped to kiss her collarbone, the top of the valley that ran through her breasts. "I was so proud to have you standing with me today. So happy that it was you next to me..."

"Harry..." She felt the slightest prick of tears.

"I was," his lips returned to hers with warmth and sweetness. "I've been doing this for so long...alone..." His arms wrapped all the way around her; hugging her close. "And now...it's not just that I have somebody there to talk to, to joke with, to tease..." He kissed the tip of her nose. "It's the fact that it's you..."

"Yes, well..." She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinked at the tears, her head tipping to the side as her hands ran down his strong back. "It wouldn't work without you baby."

"Hmmm..." He seemed in sort of a haze as her fingers reached the towel at his waist. "I love you Madeline."

"I love you too Henry." She kissed him sweetly. "Now..." She wiggled in his arms, her legs moving to wrap around him, her ankles linking to pull him towards her. "You had said something about...a gift..." Her eyebrows rose as she tugged at his towel, sending it to the floor with her dress. "Ooops."

"You're a naughty, naughty young lady." His eyes narrowed at her, his hands moving over her skin, over the lace that barely covered her.

"I am," she nodded; her eyes almost as wide as her grin. "Care to do something about it? Your Royal Highness?"

With a growl of a laugh, Harry tugged her to him; his face burying in her neck—kissing and nuzzling and forcing her to cry out in laughter. And desire. And want.

Her first "Royal Duty" had come to a successful end and, from the way Harry was moving against her, hands nimble, lips supple, her first "after party" was about to become a glowing success as well.