The Queen

Hi there, I write for fun and English isn't my native language- so I'm probably not very good. But take a look and enjoy :)

[camillafanfiction]

Love changes everything - Chapter 12

5th January 1976

Andrew’s birthday as well as New Year’s Eve and Day had passed quicker and smoother than Camilla had anticipated. She’d had several good cries on what would have been her late husband’s 36th birthday, but Charles had been incredibly sweet and understanding and had cradled her in his arms till she’d felt better.

New Year’s Eve had been a bit tricky to arrange, but somehow, she and Charles had managed to arrange spending it together without Camilla’s family getting suspicious. It had been very sentimental, but it had also felt incredibly good to receive a New Year’s kiss from Charles, though a tiny part of Camilla still felt guilty for feeling so good in another man’s arm so shortly after her husband’s passing. But when the inhabitants of Allington and Salisbury lit up the sky with blue and gold and pink and silver fireworks, Charles had held her so softly and so tightly at the same time, that Camilla had wished he would never ever let her go. And when he had kissed her and whispered into her ear that she was the only thing he wanted and that he couldn’t wait to spend as much time with her as possible in the upcoming year, she couldn’t help that her heart was beating fast and that she was feeling so right.

But now, five days later, reality had kicked back in and Charles had travelled back to London to continue his plans for a big charity launch he was planning later this year and to carry out a few engagements. His family was still staying at Sandringham, but he just couldn’t bear being there. Christmas had been even more terrible than usual as he had been longing to be with Camilla the whole time. Of course, his grandmother had noticed, of course his father had told him off for being absent minded, of course his grandmother had made him feel guilty for not spending New Year’s Eve with the family. 

He wished he had friends or someone from his family to talk to about his feelings for Camilla, about his plans for their future. But his grandmother tried to marry him to some aristocratic virgins, his father tried to send him off the shores again and Uncle Dickie just told him to ‘screw as many girls as possible’. Charles still shivered in disgust of Lord Mountbatten’s choice of words. He had only ever wanted to ‘screw’ Camilla, and he would never ever use that word for it. Not with her. With her, even ‘making love’ was too weak to express what this heaven on earth felt like; this union of body, soul and spirit… Making love with her was a spiritual act for him, it was beyond anything ethereal. If she let him, he would make love to her religiously. If he had his way, he would love her in all ways of life religiously. He wouldn’t mind bringing her to Gretna Green or, not so romantically, Las Vegas right this instant to tie the knot with her, though he knew Camilla would most likely say no, not to speak of his family… 

The shrill ringing of the telephone startled him out of his thoughts. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head briefly, as if he was trying to shake off his thoughts to clear his mind. "Yes?"

To his great disappointment it was just his grandmother, lamenting because he hadn’t returned to Sandringham. “Actually, darling, I wanted to ask if you would like to join me at Birkhall later this month. I’ve talked to Valerian yesterday, you know, The Duke of Wellington, and have invited him and Diana. They have a lovely daughter, as you know, Jane. Aren’t you friends? I thought it might be nice if the two of you were able to catch up a little…”

Charles sighed. “Isn’t she working for the enemy?” He had not the slightest intention of meeting his ex-girlfriend and her parents at his grandmother’s Scottish home.

“Working for a magazine that publishes TV and radio programs is hardly a crime, darling.”, the Queen Mother replied sweetly. 

“That’s quite something, coming from you,” Charles quipped, before adding: “I’ll probably be spending the upcoming weekends with Camilla and Tom.” For several heartbeats there was silence in the line. “You could invite her up to Birkhall as well…”, he suggested then, knowing he was pushing his grandmother further than he should. 

“Oh, you know, darling, the weekends at Birkhall are for friends and fam - “

“But when Andrew was still alive you didn’t mind inviting her alongside her husband?!” Charles interrupted her, his voice harsh and up for a fight. 

“I’m sure Mrs. Parker Bowles still needs some time before she wants to attend social gatherings again, Charles. Goodness, it’s got quite late. I’ve got to go to bed. Sleep well, darling.” With that she hung up the phone, leaving her grandson speechless. He had always been fond of his grandmother, but he had his priorities and she wasn’t at the top of the list any longer. Not since he had found out about 1972 a few months ago, not since Trevor had informed him about her unlikely consolidation with Lord Mountbatten and certainly not since the call they’d just had. 

X

30th January 1976

Charles had never quite understood why his mother preferred to stay at Sandringham till the anniversary of her accession to the throne. He’d been very close with his grandfather and he admired him deeply, especially since he had been told from the beginning how similar they were, but he didn’t feel a connection to Sandringham. He associated Sandringham with constrained Christmas celebrations and unpleasant rows with this extended family. At least Sandringham wasn’t as grand as Buckingham Palace, but it was far from being as cosy and familial as Clarence House. His mother had asked him around for tea to ‘catch up a little’ as she had phrased it on the telephone, probably trying to sound laid-back, if that would ever be fitting for a Queen. He had no idea what she really wanted, however was hoping it wouldn’t take too long as he couldn’t wait to travel back to Wiltshire to his beloved. 

Rather informally, almost familial, The Queen welcomed him to her favourite sitting room, decorated in gold and green, just to Charles’s likes. “It’s so wonderful you could arrange to come over!”, Elizabeth greeted him with her genuine smile, not the one the press pack got to see when they were out and about. “I hear you’re very passionately working on the projects you’ve been telling me about last year.” Charles wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have heard a rather warm and proud undertone in his mother’s voice. 

“Oh yes,” he nodded eagerly and before he realised it, his mother had indulged him into a long conversation about his plans. 

She seemed sincerely interested in everything they were talking about, but Charles was still taken aback when Her Majesty cleared her throat and almost coyly asked him “And how are you doing, um, privately? I hear you’re being a very doting godfather to the poor Parker Bowles child in your spare time?”

Charles’s mood changed from happy and relaxed to fuming and angry within a second. This had to be his grandmother’s or Uncle Dickie’s scheming. His mother had never cared about him before, so they had set her on him ‘to save the monarchy’ or for some other stupid reason. Probably because Uncle Dicke wanted to see Amanda on the throne and granny Lady Fermoy’s granddaughter, Sarah. “Mrs. Parker Bowles is a very honourable lady,” Charles snapped back, his face more reddish than before.

"Charles, please bridle your tongue" the Queen ordered astonished. "I never meant to suggest otherwise.” She straightened her back, but softened the expression on her face. “I thought she was carrying herself very gracefully when I saw pictures of her at the funeral back in October. For someone who has never had the eyes of the world on her…”

“Oh, did you?”

“But since you brought her up anyway… How is the poor soul coping with everything?”

Charles raised an eyebrow. The whole situation seemed very suspicious to him. But he didn't want to accuse his mother of something he wasn't sure about. Maybe she really didn't know anything about the whole thing? Maybe she really was just genuinely interested. Once he’d be back in London on Monday, he would instruct Trevor to ascertain his mother's stance on the matter. Trevor was not only astute but also possessed a keen ability to navigate the palace's inner circles without resorting to idle gossip. Charles was confident in Trevor's discretion and reliability; he had served him very well, especially recently.

“Well, please give Mrs. Parker Bowles my best regards when you see her again,” Elizabeth stated as she embraced her heir to say goodbye. “I assume tonight?”

“I will,” Charles promised and pecked his mother’s cheek before leaving with a lighter heart than he had expected.

[camillafanfiction]

Christmas lights

Up above candles on air flicker Oh, they flicker, and they flow And I'm up here holding onto All those chandeliers of hope And like some drunken Elvis singing I go singing out of tune Singing how I always loved you, darling And I always will

Oh, when you're still waiting for the snow to fall It doesn't really feel like Christmas at all Still waiting for the snow to fall It doesn't really feel like Christmas at all

⁓ Coldplay

14.12.1973, London

The festive baubles glittered and glimmered as couples danced and friends raised their glasses while the DJ played one Christmas hit after another. This year’s Christmas hit “Merry Xmas” by Slade had already been played more than once but nobody seemed to be sick of it as of now. This was one of the most glamorous Christmas parties of the season and everybody had dressed to impress. Camilla didn’t make an exception, she looked fabulous in a dark green sequined dress with a low neckline and shimmered wonderfully as she swirled on the dance floor and moved her body to the rhythm of the music. Andrew had very much looked like a proud husband when the couple had arrived but as the clock hand moved past midnight he couldn’t be seen anymore. At least not by Camilla, but she appeared to be perfectly happy. As usual, she was the life of the party and didn’t need to worry about company or a dance partner. Friends and socialites had rallied around her and people threw their heads back in laughter as she cracked jokes and made naughty remarks. As usual, she was one of the stars of the season, and rightly so.

Charles, however, had seen Andrew in the arms of another busty blonde about half an hour ago, before they had disappeared out of his sight as well. The venue was crowded, but he had kept eagle eyes on both, Camilla, and Andrew. He had tried to concentrate on his dance partners, but he had ignored all of the flirting attempts as his eyes had been stuck. Stuck on her. The only lady he was interested in. Still.

But they hadn’t spoken a word tonight, they hadn’t even greeted each other, there just hadn’t been any opportunity – Charles wasn’t even sure she had noticed his attendance, but his arrival usually meant lots of ‘ahs’ and ‘ohs’, so she probably had… Maybe it was best as it would cause too much heart-pain and would be too awkward anyway, but Charles was still hoping for at least one little opportunity to say “hi!”. It would be an early Christmas present as they hadn’t spoken since Anne’s wedding to Mark on his 25th birthday, exactly one months ago. What a dreadful day it had been, Charles sighed, what a dreadful year actually.

Camilla’s hair fell in short, soft waves, framing her beautiful face. She looked simply perfect from head to toe and, once again, Charles couldn’t understand how Andrew could cheat on someone like Camilla. They weren’t even married for six months. Andrew had the freaking audacity to get lucky enough to marry Camilla and not stopping his philandering. What the hell was wrong with this man?! He just couldn’t bear thinking about it. If he spent just one other thought on Andrew, he’d go mad.

After another endless 20 minutes of upbeat Christmas songs, he finally spotted Camilla walking over to one of the waiters with a silly Father Christmas hat on, probably asking for her signature drink, a gin tonic with a slice of lemon. This was the moment Charles realized he was in a desperate need for a drink, too, excused himself from the girl whose name he’d already forgotten again and hustled to the same waiter, slowing down when he came closer.

Camilla was taken by surprise, Charles could see it the second their eyes met, and she bobbed down in a curtsey, lowering her eyes. “Hello, Your Royal Highness,” she said formally, feeling slightly ridiculous by the formality of the situation.

“Hello you,” Charles replied way more intimate and moved slightly forward to place a soft kiss on both her cheeks. “Nice to see you again.”

In fact, it was much more than “nice” to see her again, to inhale her smell even in that crowded room, to feel the warmth of her soft hand, the tickle of her cheeky curls… Charles knew he shouldn’t feel that way about another man’s wife, but he couldn’t help it. This time last year she had still been his…

“Very nice indeed.” Camilla almost looked shy and blushed but found her usual confident self again within the blink of an eye. “I seem to have lost my husband about two hours ago,” she tried to joke and ignored the queasiness in the pit of her stomach. Five months into her marriage she had realized that being married hadn’t really changed Andrew and that, though they were actually experiencing wedded bliss, he still couldn’t keep his eyes and, unfortunately, hands off other women.

For a moment, Charles considered telling her that he’d seen her disappearing with the blonde beauty, but then decided against it as he didn’t want to ruin her Christmas or, even worse, hurt her. Instead, he opted to awkwardly compliment her, kneading his hands, and resisting the urge to touch her again. “You look wonderful tonight.”

Camilla flashed him a smile, murmuring “Thank you!”, and in a rush of intimacy pushed him over to one of the tables in the corner where it was a bit quieter. Unfortunately, it was before either of them realised that they had ended up in the lover’s lane with couples around them passionately snogging and even more. “Oh my God!”, Camilla giggled, looking around, well noticing that Charles’ face had turned red. “I seem to have for-“

“Kiss me!” Charles suddenly declared and Camilla wasn’t sure if she’d understood him correctly. However, before she was able to give him an asking or indignant glance, she felt soft lips on hers, just for a millisecond, so quick she couldn’t be sure it had been reality or a just a wild dream, a vision of what her most inner self was secretly wishing for.

It must have been the gin, Camilla decided. Why on earth should she wish to kiss her ex-beau?! She was happily married to the man she had always wanted to marry, and they had loads of fun trying to make a baby at every given opportunity. “Would you like to dance?”, Charles asked innocently and grabbed her arm to push her to the dance floor where people were shaking their legs to the sound of “I wish it could be Christmas everyday” by Wizzard, another top 10 hit that, for Charles’ taste, had been played more than enough tonight. But it didn’t matter, he had Camilla in his arms and swirled her around, he had kissed her, only a millisecond and so quick she hadn’t grasped it, but he had tasted her lips and they had felt as soft as last year. He would later regret it, he already knew, he would die of heartache and the pain of missing her even more than before. He would spend Christmas just as depressed as always and count the hours till he could be back onboard that bloody ship again that would take him to shores far away from her, but not the love for her he carried in his heart and couldn’t let go. It didn’t particularly help that the DJ now opted for “I Love You Love Me Love” by Garry Glitter, who sang of a couple whose love had won against all odds. Charles tried not to listen to the lyrics but solely focus on the music instead, but having Camilla’s body so close brought back memories of times when he thought he might be able to call her his wife one day. Maybe if he’d been brave enough to ask her last year, on his 24th birthday maybe… But who on earth married aged 24 in this time and age, especially as a prince?! There was no use in dwelling in the past, Charles knew, but it hurt so very much.

“In the mood for another drink?”, Camilla asked when she found they were dancing a bit too familiar and intimate when a slow song started to play.

Charles tried to hide his disappointment, but knew she was right, so he nodded. “Okay.”

“Martini, Sir?”, she winked and added “Shaken, not stirred?” That made him laugh with his eyes, Camilla noticed relieved. She didn’t want to hurt him, this had never been her intention, but she’d made the right decision for herself with marrying Andrew, hadn’t she? Charles had been a fling, Andrew was her true love, the man she was destined to be with. Two or three times when Andrew had come home late on a Friday evening and had smelt of another women’s perfume, she’d caught herself thinking that this wouldn’t have happened with Charles, that she’d be more appreciated… but she’d made the right decision, she had snatched her fetching soldier, and she was so excited for her first Christmas as a wife. She’d already planned everything from the dinner to the music to the decorations. It would simply be perfect…

His hair a bit too accurate, Andrew suddenly appeared behind Charles, a bright grin upon his face. “Hello poppet,” he greeted his wife, placing a fierce kiss on her mouth before greeting Charles with a small bow of his head. “Nice to see you, Sir. I hope my wife hasn’t bothered you too much with talking about her plans for Christmas all night…”

“Not at all.”, Charles stated, smiling at Camilla, and giving Andrew a stern look.

“Well… good…” Andrew commented and casually took a huge sip out of his whiskey glass, emptying it and putting it on the next bar table. “C’mon, poppet, let’s rock the dance floor,” he declared then, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and winking at her.

Camilla gave Charles an apologetic glance, detached herself from her husband for a moment and placed swift kisses on both of Charles’ cheeks. “I’ll see you… Happy Christmas!”, she said before being drawn away by her husband onto the dance floor.

For a few moments Charles masochistically watched them kissing and dancing like lovers (or newly married couples) do before emptying his glass with one sip as well, cursing the day he was born. Or rather the day Andrew had been born, he wasn’t sure yet. Without taking another look at Camilla and her husband or anyone else again, Charles left the party, knowing he would live from the few moments he’d had with her today till the next time he’d see her again.

[camillafanfiction]

Hey can you Write a France Fiction because Charles and Camilla are going to France Tomorrow 🤭

I can try for sure - is there anything in particular you have on your mind? 🤗

[camillafanfiction]

Your fanfiction is really good.

Thanks 🥰

[camillafanfiction]

Africa Calling - Part 1

September 1979

Camilla stretched her arms and with a little sigh sat down on the comfortable sun lounger by the pool again, her legs bent in front of her chest. The first half of September had been unusually warm this year and it was wonderful to soak up the sun. Charles, who was sitting on the sun lounger next to her, was still fiddling with his new video camera. Earlier this month he had captured Tom’s first day of school with it and just yesterday he had filmed how little Laura was taking more and more firm steps, almost running off now.

After a little less than one month after Lord Mountbatten’s death it seemed like Charles was finally starting to really enjoy life again. With Camilla and her wonderful warmth and joie de vivre it felt free and simple, carefree and somehow just… perfect. In April, right after Laura’s first birthday, Andrew had been called to Rhodesia and would be staying there for the foreseeable future without much furlough, much to Charles’s delight. If he had his will, he would probably have moved in by now, Camilla knew. Well, in a way he had, at least since Uncle Dickie’s death anyway… He was spending more time with her children and her than ever before and whenever he was off duty he came around. Camilla, too, felt much happier since they spent so much regular time together, but they both knew, too, that they had to be more careful than ever. With Tom turning 5 in December and having started school on September 3rd, he began to understand and talk more, so they were very careful to not let anything of their love show in front of him.    

“Hey, Miss Sexy!”, Charles suddenly said and held his video camera directly at Camilla, who was looking absolutely to die for in a rather small stunning red bikini with white polka dots. One and a half years after Laura’s birth, she’d lost almost all of the baby-weight and looked most perfect, though she had never really bothered about her weight. She’d also grown and nurtured her hair and it was now falling over her shoulders in almost long, golden waves. He loved that length on her, it made her look like a goddess.

Camilla tilted her head towards him, tried to look indignant and breathed a shy “No pictures, please!”, but after a second failed miserably and was only able to splutter and almost fell off the sun lounger. 

“Silly girl,” Charles grinned with a shake of his head. “I’m not taking photos, I’m filming you.” And indeed, he was sure he’d taken the most amazing clips of her, capturing her wonderful laugh, her beautiful body and pretty surely he’d even managed to highlight her incredibly sexy venus dimples that he loved so much. 

“You’re an idiot.” She rolled her eyes as Charles’s lens came way too close to her cleavage and she playfully put her hand in front of it. “No, no, no,” she laughed. “You’re being naughty, Sir.” With one smooth, quick movement she grabbed the camera and carefully pushed it to the side and into the grass. 

“And you’re being cheeky, Miss,” he retorted, saving his camera before he snatched a kiss from her, which suddenly led to a playful tiff, heating up the whole situation out of nowhere. They’d made love not too long ago, earlier this morning, but the tingling and prickling still hung in the air and flushed through both their bodies. Camilla hadn’t planned on it, but she’d fallen madly in love with Charles again just around her 30th birthday last year. Charles, on the other hand, had never stopped loving her and was still head over heels in love. He was crazy about her and would probably be all of his life. At least he couldn’t imagine a day in his life where didn’t love or want her.

“Let’s continue this conversation in bed,” Camilla breathed against the Prince’s mouth. “My legs can’t wait to hear what your hands have to say…”

x

Camilla looked at Charles in surprise, then laughed and threw her head back, looking absolutely sexy without intending to. “You must be joking!”

Charles shook his head and stroked tenderly over Camilla’s naked back. “I’m being very serious, my darling.” he replied, but he could read on her face that she was still trying to figure out if he was taking the mickey out of her or if he’d suddenly gone mad because of his suggestion.

She turned to her side, presenting her wonderfully full breasts. “Darling, you can’t be,” she shook her head.

“But I am,” he insisted, kissing her collar, which made her smile.

“Are you sure you’re not in some kind of a post-coital bemusement or something?”, she giggled, teasingly running her index finger over his stomach and down to his crutch. It made him moan and she grinned again, lovingly and sexily at once. 

Camilla noticed very well how much will-power it took Charles to push her slightly away. “Let’s talk about it with a sober mind, maybe at tea time when we’ve recovered from that wonderful orgasm?!” he suggested with a smirk, making no secret out of just how much he loved that lusty lush life with her. 

“Are you talking about mine or yours?” she teasingly poked him in the ribs and they both laughed. Then she propped herself up on her elbows. “How about before the children are running and rampaging around us again?”

x

Later that day the lovers sat in the garden again, right in the grass with Laura chasing around them as good as she could. The sun was still up in the sky and bees and butterflies were humming in the air. Camilla had well avoided the topic they’d been talking about earlier that day, but she could read on his face that wasn’t through with it yet.

“Lovey,” he nudged her, “I’ve been very serious when I asked you to be my official companion for Rhodesia. You’re the perfect fit!”

Camilla shook her head in disbelief. “In your wildest dreams, darling.” How could Charles seriously consider her as an official companion for the handover of Rhodesia? She was just a mum and housewife and, most of all: his affair.

“You’re absolutely underestimating yourself, darling.”, Charles contered. “Let me tell you why you’re perfect.” He kissed her palm. “Firstly, you’re happily married to Andrew and he’s the leader down there. So, obviously, you want to be with him at that particular event, you’re a proud army wife after all.” He heard Camilla’s chortle, but chose to ignore it. “Secondly, because you’re happily married nobody’s going to think anything when you’re accompanying me.”

“Despite all our friends and the rest of high society…” Camilla interposed with an amused grin.

Charles shook his head and placed his index finger on her mouth. “Thirdly, you know how to behave, are a perfect companion and, first and foremost, you make me very, very, very happy. Just imagine a grumpy Prince of Wales at such an important event…”

“And your family would, of course, totally approve,” she replied ironically, rolling her eyes.

“Well, Uncle Dickie can’t complain anymore and Mummy actually thinks it’s a nice idea.”

“Your mother thinks ‘it’s a nice idea’?!” Camilla raised an eyebrow.

Charles shrugged his shoulders, his face unimpressed. “Yes.”

“There’s no way I’m going to get into a plane for what, 13 hours?!”

“Not even for your favourite little prince?” Charles looked at her with puppy eyes. 

“Darling, I’m going to embarrass you… the monarchy… I’m just… you know… your devoted old house wife friend from the countryside…”

“You’re the perfect consort, my darling.”, he encouraged her. “And I’ll reward you graciously”, he whispered into her ear, which made Camilla giggle.

“Fool,” she laughed, but then got serious. “I’ll think it through. But don’t put your hopes up.”

Charles rolled to the side, a content smile on his face. For the moment that was all he needed to know.

[camillafanfiction]

Hi, a while ago I’ve read a fic (and I believe it was yours) about Charles’ and Camilla’s first time after her hysterectomy surgery, but I can’t find it anymore… could you perhaps tell me the name of it? I’m pretty sure that even if it wasn’t yours you’d know where to find it. Thanks in advance <3

Hi, I think it's from cclover, but he deleted the account.

[camillafanfiction]

I'm currently working on a 2-3 parts series, but I'm not quite sure yet how it's going =D

I also want to continue Love Changes Everything and am, too, up for headcanons/ requets.

Feel free to send me asks etc =)

[what-if-queen-camilla]

hi!! i really like your writing, i think it's really sweet :) i'm writing to ask if you've written or are thinking of writing a story where c and c get married in the 80s instead of c and d, saving everyone a lot of trouble haha. if not, do you know if anyone has written it? thanks sm! - @/cccore

Hi there,

Thank you so much for your very kind words! So happy you like my story, I really enjoy writing it as well :))

I'm not sure about a marriage in the 80s story, but the legendary @camillafanfiction wrote a lovely saga about a possible 1973 wedding a couple of years ago. Here's the link to chapter one: Love is stronger than convention

There are multiple chapters and it's a truly lovely read -enjoy! :)

[camillafanfiction]

Thank you so much!!!

[camillasgirl]

A portrait of Queen Camilla taken by Lord Snowdon in the early 2000s

The photo was found in a book about Lord Snowdon's amazing work (by The_Snowdons on instagram) and my darling @frombirkhallwithlove , of course, had to buy the rather expensive book! Hence, we decided to watermark it. Hope you're still going to enjoy it anyway 😊

[camillasgirl]

♥♥♥ Happy 76th birthday, Camilla (*17th July 1947) ♥♥♥

“Camilla’s undeterred by difficult subject matter and believes that one should look at things frankly, and see the world as it is. She is a tremendous person: she’s very compassionate, very humorous, and she is committed to using her influence to make sure that unheard voices are given a chance to speak, and unheard stories are told. She’s a great force for good.” -Jude Kelly on Queen Camilla

[camillafanfiction]

Any chance for a new chapter anytime soon? 🥰

Thanks for coming around! 🥰

I'm not sure, family and work are keeping me busy and the heat doesn't particularly help either. I'm trying to write something new, though 🤗 keep your fingers crossed!

[camillafanfiction]

Nevermind me now im thinking nonstop about Charles trying being alpha male thru jewelries

I can actually really see that 🤣

Do you agree, though?

[camillafanfiction]

Hi! I’ve read all the fanfics here within few weeks and I’m absolutely addicted ! :D Are you going to write some new fanfics?)

Hey, what a nice compliment, hank you so much! Glad you like what I'm doing =)

I hope I'll be able to post more any time soon, but as always, can't really promise anything. But have your fingers crossed! ;-)

Something in particular you'd like to read?

[camillafanfiction]

Do you think Charles and Andrew ever argued or fought over Camilla?

Well maybe not very openly, but especially for Charles I see a lot of rivalery in terms of jewels and such.

[camillafanfiction]

Love changes everything - Chapter 11

No matter how much Charles had begged Camilla to spend Christmas with him, though he knew it was impossible, she had spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with her parents before she’d travelled back to Bolehyde Manor on Boxing Day when her parents went to see Annabel and her little wholesome family. Camilla, of course, had been invited too, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to cope with the family bliss at Annabel’s house. She was happy for Annabel, of course, but it would be too much to take, especially with Andrew’s birthday coming up the next day. Christmas had been more of a torture anyway and she was glad to escape the baubels, the trees and the herold angeles everywhere. Her house wasn’t decorated for Christmas at all, a harsh contrast to the glitter and gold and the ethereal legions of angels that had been everywhere last year. Though she’d been heavily pregnant and barely able to move at all she’d decorated even the smallest corner of the house last year. Baby’s first Christmas was supposed to be perfect after all. But now the rain pouring heavily outside matched her mood far better. She had tried hard to put on a happy face for her parents and Mark, but it had worn her out. And she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to live through tomorrow. The thought of Andrew’s birthday almost made her sick. Just why was he not allowed to turn 36? Why did he have to play the hero again and be killed? What utterly sick game was the God above playing? It had not always been easy with Andrew, his affairs had silently killed her, but why, just why, did such a horrible thing happen? What had little Tom done to deserve this? What had she done to deserve this? 

She was missing Charles, too, and a part of her had wished they’d be able to spend Christmas together. They’d spoken briefly on the phone on Christmas Eve and she regretted having declined his offer, or more his plea, to be able to see her on Boxing Day. Maybe he would still come like the last time she’d forbidden him to come on Tom’s birthday? But time passed and there was no Charles, so she just played with Tom and wrapped herself in a blanket in the living room once she had put him to bed.

The darkness outside came early and the raindrops on the window looked like ink-spiders. God, this really didn‘t feel like Christmas at all. Over and over she pondered if she should try to ring Charles but then again it was only half past four, though outside it looked like witching hour. Oh well maybe she just shouldn’t be so grand, she decided. With quick steps she walked to the hall where the telephone was standing and dialled the direct line to Charles' room which he had given to her in wise foresight. In nervous anticipation she dialled wrong two times before she was lucky and the call got through.

“Hello?“ asked a young voice that definitely wasn‘t Charles‘. Somehow the voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite recall of whom it reminded her.

“Ummm… hello… I’d like to speak to Cha… umm, the Prince of Wales, please.“

“Sorry, Miss, you missed him. He left quite some time ago… to see his new girlfriend.“ The boy made a retching sound and suddenly it dawned on Camilla who it was.

“Edward?“ she asked, ignoring the clenching of her heart. Was she the new girlfriend? Or did Charles, indeed, have someone new? Deep down her Camilla knew that this wasn't how Charles would handle this, but the years with Andrew had traumatised her and of course she knew that Charles had to date other girls as well. He had to find a wife, someone worthy to bear an heir.

“On the phone, Miss,“ the eleven-year-old replied, clearly not remembering her voice.

“This is Camilla, we used to do two or three go-kart chases a few years ago.“ Camilla smiled, living from that memory. The memory seemed to be from someone else’s life, not her own. A life that was light and carefree and the only trouble in the world was which party she was going to go to the next day.

“Oh right!“ There was a sound of enlightenment in his voice. “I d-” there was a rustling and some voices in the line and suddenly Edward seemed to be eager to hang up the phone. „Merry Christmas, Camilla!“ he said and hung up before Camilla had the slightest chance to reply. 

That had been a lovely surprise, but it hadn’t really helped her find out if she was going to see her prince today or not. Charles would surely have told her about a new girlfriend, so it was almost safe to say he’d be here anytime soon. It was a four hour drive from Sandringham to Bolehyde Manor and probably even longer today with that bloody rain. Why on earth did it not come down as snow? It surely was cold enough outside. With her heart feeling at least a little lighter she made herself a hot chocolate with two shots of rum. It would surely warm her up from the inside as well.

An hour later she heard a car rolling over the gritty grounds and her heart made a jump. This had to be Charles! With her plushy slippers on she made her way to the entrance hall and before Charles could ring the bell Camilla opened the door and it only took Charles a second to get to her and fling her in his arms. What a man he was! Camilla didn’t know quite how he did it, but he always knew exactly what to do (well… mostly…).

“Happy Christmas,” Charles whispered and placed a light kiss on Camilla’s nose.

“Happy Christmas, darling,” Camilla breathed back in return, wrapping her arms around him tightly. It felt so incredibly good to have him in her arms, but after a few moments she pulled away. “Come inside! You must be freezing!” With that she ushered him inside the living room. “Do you want to eat something? Or maybe drink? I’m sorry I didn’t bother to lighten the fireplace,” she bubbled, not quite knowing where it suddenly came from. 

Charles chuckled, she was just so adorable. “Darling, relax,” he told her and flashed a smile at her that turned her knees into jelly. Despite the circumstances Camilla found herself to be head over heels in love with the prince again, a thing that still felt unreal. Being with him made her forget the uneasy feeling she’d had the past few days and she didn’t think about tomorrow, which she dreaded.

“Right!” Camilla exhaled loudly, then laughed and flopped down on the sofa, pushing Charles down with her. “Thank you for coming,” she placed a soft kiss in the middle of his perfect mouth and cuddled against him. 

Charles smiled, happy that his appearance apparently made her very happy. “You didn’t seem surprised, though,” he mused and looked at her with a quizzical expression.

“I simply knew you wouldn’t listen to me.” Camilla gave him a soft poke in the ribs. “And Edward told me about your new girlfriend…” With lightheartedness she told him about her call at Sandringham House and how she’d hoped he’d come. It was wonderful to chatter and cuddle and kiss and make up for the missed days. After a while they exchanged Christmas presents - they hadn’t really talked about it, but both of them had something for the other. Camilla received a lovely light blue silk scarf and a pair of whopping diamond earrings that she’d probably never be able to wear, though they were immensely beautiful and she loved them so very much. She’d gotten Charles a new record and a Barbour jacket, so that he’d finally get rid of his old one. The last time he’d worn it he’d been soaking wet because it had so many patches. Her presents felt a bit lousy compared to Charles’, but she knew he loved them and that was the main thing. This Christmas was very far from perfect, but with Charles in her arms and the laughter they shared, this Boxing Day finally felt like Christmas, no matter what tomorrow would bring.

[camillafanfiction]

I read an old article from Operation Ritz before their first pics leaving together, and the band members said Charles asked them to play Besame Mucho bc it means a lot to them and then he and Camilla kept looking at each other during it. How romantic is that. Maybe that is “their song” do you think?

I have read that story before and I believe someone on here once posted a fanfic about it, but I have never been quite sure what to think about it.

I mean it could be and it'd be very sweet, but we can't be sure until someone confirms.

[camillafanfiction]

I love the stories of them young and dating in the 70s 😍

Aww, thank you so much! That means so much to me! I love writing about this time - it must have been such a carefree, wonderful time for them.