Work Text:
NIGHTMARES
March 8, 2024
“Where am I?”
She was in her own bedroom again, woken up by a terrible nightmare. She’s prone to those, that much she knows. She can keep the negative thoughts at bay when she’s awake but they sneak up on her when she’s asleep and vulnerable, sucking all the air out of her lungs and sending cold shivers down her spine. She pushed her hair off of her damp forehead while trying to catch her breath.
“What time is it?”
A quick glance at the clock on her bedside table. Barely 10 o’clock. Jetlag sent her to bed early. Her husband must still be awake or he would’ve joined her already as he had promised. They needed to be close to each other after being apart for a few days. She was glad to see him feeling well but he better not be working.
“Wishful thinking…”
Leaning back against the headrest she thought about his promise to take it easy.
“What if he’s sick or collapsed somewhere?”
It’s only anxiety.
“Is he alone? Would anyone notice?”
She had to find him or she wouldn’t have been able to fall back asleep. Her feet touched the ground and she shakily rose from the bed. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She rushed through the empty hallways, searching for a lit-up room. His study door had some light peeking through beneath it and she barged in, startling him. He was sitting on a sofa reading a book.
“Darling?” He asked with concern.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“What happened?” He rushed to her side discarding his book.
“Noth…nothing.” She tried shaking it off, avoiding eye contact, forcing a smile but he didn’t buy it.
“You’re crying.” He pointed out, his hands on her shoulders.
“Just a bad dream that I haven’t quite woken up from yet…” She was embarrassed about freaking out. Freaking both of them out. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re alright?” He asked gently, looking at her so lovingly that she nearly broke into tears all over again.
Of course, he wasn’t stupid. Despite the nightmare, he understood why she was upset. He knew that she needed his comfort more than ever. So, he led her into the room and sat her beside him, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the side of her head. She looked up at him with a tight smile, and he responded by pulling her closer to his chest and leaning them both backwards. She snuggled into him, and he picked up his book, continuing where he left off. It wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep. His arm was around her protectively, and her dreams serene.
November 10, 2005
She had been tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep. It was partly due to jet lag and partly because she couldn't calm her thoughts. They followed her into her dreams, and that night was particularly bad.
The reason? It seemed like the whole nation couldn't help but rejoice slightly at the headlines calling out "FRUMP TOWER" at her. She cared more than she let on, especially now that they were married. Years and years of public scrutiny leave a mark on a person, no matter how tough they are or how much reassurance they get from those closest to them.
It was hard, and she was trying her best to look the part, act the right way, and learn the protocol. It was even harder to discover again and again that your best simply isn't good enough. She was never going to be as beloved as his first wife, and she was okay with that. She didn't yearn for such adoration from the public; she didn't need that kind of validation. However, she wanted to at least be on neutral ground, to catch a break from being subjected to constant abuse and humiliation.
Her nightmares had a pattern. It usually wasn’t too difficult to tell what had caused them. All of the mocking titles, laughing show hosts and angry public blended into a hostile dream she struggled to wake up from, until she suddenly sat up in her bed, gasping for air. Her husband, a light sleeper, was startled by her sudden movement.
“Darling.” He mumbled as his hand reached out for her.
Her bottom lip quivered at the sound of his voice. A wave of guilt washed over her.
“Sorry.” She cried out silently.
“What? What are you talking about?” He sat up and rubbed her back up and down.
“Camilla?” He asked seriously, letting her know he was genuinely concerned.
“I woke you up…” She whispered. “I’m sorry. Just being ridiculous.”
“You’re clearly upset about something.” He tried to pull her to him but her body was stiff and she was looking away. “Come here, darling. Tell me what caused this…” He coaxed.
She turned to him, her eyes glistening with tears, and he enveloped her in his embrace, gently guiding her back against the pillows. As she nestled into him, one of his hands settled on her back, pulling her closer while the other tenderly stroked her hair, sweeping it away from her face. Pressing his lips against her forehead, he left behind a succession of delicate, butterfly-like kisses. In that tender moment, she felt like a mixture of clamminess and warmth under his lips.
“You’re tired, aren’t you? Hmmm?” He whispered against her forehead.
She nodded, swallowing back her tears.
“Is it what I think it is?”
“Just a nightmare.”
“About?”
He knew he was probing, and that he should probably lull her to sleep because the poor thing was exhausted. But he also knew that there were things they needed to talk about, and if he waited until the morning, she’d brush him off. He saw the hurt look in her eyes as they skimmed through the papers, he noticed her hesitance when the US tour was declared successful by their staff. When the negative press was proclaimed ridiculous by everyone in the room and she laughed it off, he recognized it wasn’t a sincere laugh. He didn’t want to call her out in front of others, so he kept quiet and mimicked her reaction. They didn’t see each other again until dinner, but they hardly got a chance to talk, and he practically had to drag her up the stairs because she was so tired. He kissed her goodnight and settled next to her, partly because he didn’t want to leave her alone, and partly because he himself could hardly keep his eyes open.
She sighed. “Not living up to the role of…Being bad at this…” She trailed off, struggling to find the right words for it. “You’ve seen it. I don’t want to embarrass you, I…”
“Why would you even think something like that?” He cut her off. Furious at the world but mostly at himself for failing to protect her from the vultures that seemed to follow her every move.
“I don’t know. Vanity? It just gets to me sometimes. That I always fall short in comparison to…” It was too painful to finish the sentence so they fell into an awkward silence.
“Will I ever belong to the front pages for any of the right reasons?” She spoke first and then bit her bottom lip hiding her face from him.
“You belong because you are my wife, my future consort and because there isn’t anyone in this world whom I’d rather have by my side.” He placed another kiss on her forehead. “And you looked beautiful.”
“Oh, stop it!” She shook her head and tried to roll back to her side of the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done here.” He chuckled holding onto her. “Look at me, darling.” He lifted her face by the chin to meet his gaze. “I thought you were breathtakingly beautiful. I could hardly keep my eyes off you. Let alone my hands.” He tried to lift her spirits but her eyes welled with every word. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She nodded trying to smile at him. He rolled them over so he was hovering over her and kissed her gently but passionately. Then he kissed her all over the face until she couldn’t help but laugh. He acted like a youngster sometimes.
“There we are.” He laughed, rolling back to his side and opening his arms for her. “What do you say we get some more sleep now?”
“I think that’s one of the finest ideas you’ve ever had.” She teased but welcomed his warm embrace.
February 1, 1993
It was everywhere. Everyone knew about it. No one could escape it and it didn’t look like it was going away anytime soon. She’ll never forget the look on her husband’s face when he read the papers that morning the so-called “Camillagate” had been printed. People were now starting to call it “Tampongate” and she felt as if an anvil had landed on her head with the weight of the whole thing.
The Prince was inconsolable at first, then furious, and then he seemed to disappear off the face of the Earth. They couldn’t see each other, and they were convinced their phones were being tapped, so even that was no longer an option.
Then came the secret phone calls: one after another. Some were threatening and vague, while others were simply heavy breathing into the microphone. They always came at nighttime, replaying in her mind until she fell asleep.
“Watch out!”
“Someone’s waiting outside.”
“They’ve come to kill you.”
Camilla woke up suddenly, her heart pounding in her chest. Her whole body was shaking. It was still dark outside, and her first instinct was to reach out for her husband, but his side of the bed was empty. He wasn’t here tonight; she was alone. She scanned the room, trying to remember where she was or what was happening, and then her body began to operate on its own. She quickly dialled a well-known number on the telephone and waited until the other side picked up.
“Highgrove residence, how may I assist you?.”
“I’d like to speak to The Prince of Wales, please.”
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Does it matter!? I must speak to him, tell him it’s an emergency!” Her voice breaking.
“Ma’am, it’s nearly 3 o’clock in the morning, I’m afraid The Prince has gone to sleep.” He replied somewhat sarcastically.
“Well, then wake him up!” She yelled down the phone line.
“Who’s that…?” She heard another voice in the background.
“Some woman, she won’t say her name but she demands to speak to The Prince.” She heard the person on the line trying to explain, mocking her. She was just some woman. A crazy woman calling in the middle of the night.
“Put her through.” They know, she thought.
“But…”
“Go on.”
“Right. Ma’am, I will put you through now.” She heard but she couldn’t respond.
“Ma’am? Are you still there?”
“Yes, thank you.” She managed but she couldn’t hold it in much longer and a silent sob escaped her mouth as she waited, hoping he would pick up.
“Hello?” The sound of his groggy voice completely set her off and she just cried.
“Camilla?!” He suddenly sounded completely awake and extremely alarmed. He must’ve recognised her despite not saying a word.
“Darling, what happened? Are you alright? Are your children okay?”
“No…Yes.” She cried out.
“I can be there in 20.” He wasn’t sure what had happened but he felt it might have something to do with their current situation.
“I’m scared.” She sobbed.
“Ok, are you inside, darling? Are you in your bedroom?” He spoke softly like he was talking to a small child.
“Yes.”
“Alright, you’re alright, my darling. You’re safe. I will be right there with you. Just stay where you are, darling.”
“Mmm…” She nodded.
“I will hang up now.” He let her know and gave her a moment to acknowledge it.
“Please, come quickly.” She whispered.
“Of course.” He blew a kiss into the phone and hung up.
Less than 20 minutes later he was fiddling with her keys and giving orders to his protection officers to check the property, he wanted every inch of it inspected for any potential danger.
“Camilla!” He made himself known as he entered her house and ran up the staircase.
He found her sitting on the floor, still clutching the telephone and crying into her bended knees. She looked up when she saw him and reached out her arms. He immediately rushed up to her and crouched down in front of her, halfway lifting her into his embrace.
“Shhh, darling. I’m right here.” He cooed, rubbing her back and fully eloping her in his arms.
“She’s scaring me…she keeps calling me…and they won’t leave…they hate me…” She cried, tears soaking the collar of his shirt.
“Who is it, darling? Who’s scaring you?” He asked gently into her hair.
“Diana!”
He felt his vision darken and his jaw clench up. He didn’t even have to ask how or why, he believed her. If it wasn’t for the woman in his arms he would’ve punched a wall, kicked a chair or thrown a vase across the room but he knew she desperately needed him to be the calm one and to comfort her, not the other way around.
“I didn’t know…You, you should’ve said.” He sounded almost desperate.
“I’ll take care of it. I promise you.” He held her tightly and listened for her sobs to subside.
She was bound to break down sooner or later. In a way, he was glad she called him. He wanted to show up for her and give her back a little bit of love and security that she had been providing him with all these years.
“There now, my darling. It’s ok now. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He sat them both down on the edge of her bed, as his knees started killing him from the awkward position on the floor, her in his lap and he rocked her gently like he did his sons when they were small and scared.
She managed to calm down under his gentle strokes, sweet kisses and loving words whispered in her ear but kept holding onto him until her unconscious took over and she fell asleep.
The next morning, she woke up safely cocooned in his warm embrace. He was already looking down at her, still concerned but full of love.
“Good morning, darling.” She reached for his lips and he kissed her back but she felt his apprehension.
“It’s time I tell you what happened, isn’t it?” She looked into his eyes and he nodded, gently stroking her face with his thumb, letting her speak now.
“Well, I woke up from the most awful nightmare…”
…
THE END