! : FINALE
literally just a closing statement… thing for camila and alistair and their future and all that crap. yeah. i blame jess for every single word of this piece. i hate her guts, she is the scum between my toes. love, nadine xo.
(the twins: natalia cloe tremaine and anthony benjamin tremaine.)
it comes as a surprise. at training, no less, when there were a hundred people on watch. camila was a warrior, a fighter and fainting at training was something completely unexpected.
she’s sprawled on the mat, vision blurred and what she knows is a nasty bruise growing as someone takes her into their arms, lifts her out of the room and towards the infirmary. nico is silent as he carries her, his worry palpable in the air. henry has enough panic in his voice he doesnt need to tell people to move, she thinks he would be barking it if he did, they just do. when her father arrives, toting evan by his side, he orders every test he can, thinks it’s something to do with her blood, something about her recent inability to keep down any meal.
a few hours later she’s given the answer.
camila awakens to find her hand wrapped in natasha’s, glad to see it was her on the other side of this ordeal. she sits up with a struggle, hands cradling her stomach that aches in all places, seeking support from her mother.
the doctor has some news, natasha begins, a grimace.
camila. so good to see you awake! now the news–congratulations–you’re pregnant!
-
caught somewhere between happy and sad, camila struggles to find a way to tell alistair. henry finds out first, obviously, toting some poor excuse about just knowing she was carrying something more than a virus. this tips off nico in the most obvious way before finding itself to evan and eventually her father. he was silent for all of a minute, shared a long look with her mother, before pulling her into a hug, promising to support her in any decision she makes.
like she would ever choose an alternative.
perhaps it was the luck of the draw that alistair finds out himself. as nonchalant as the day that they met, he simply asks her if she has anything to tell him, quiet as he is, looking into his meal before folding arms to look at her. she picks up her plate, takes it over to the sink, and breathes confidence into herself. brave, fearless, warrior princess camila barton has finally found her weakness.
-
i’m pregnant.
is it mine?
not funny.
i knew it.
how in the world did you figure it out before me?
i know you better than you give me credit for. so when are we due?
me. i’m due. not you. you get to live life without a hitch, i have to watch my training, my meals, ugh, i have to stop going on missions.
so i promised ben i would name my first child after him so we have to work benjamin into it somehow.
are you even listening–don’t talk to me. bye.
-
the birth was an experience in itself. camila remembers very little. she reminds breakfast with her mother on her balcony and then remembers falling and a canvas of black after that. alistair’s voice registers at some point, panic and grief and something else she can’t place (excitement?) is all that waves through her ears and though she knows there is pain in places she cannot even place, she smiles. she moments away from the life she was always too afraid to admit that she wanted.
push… and push… and… congratulations! it’s twins!
she laughs. she laughs and laughs and laughs until she can no longer breathe. fatigue washes over her, neck and neck with the euphoria that shifts a comfortable glow to her smile. she takes the girl, a dainty, petite, pretty princess into her arms and nuzzles her nose into the faint beginnings of chocolate locks. her eyes, crescent with happiness, look up to find the other half, a boy, cooing in his fathers arms.
-
how are you feeling, mr. tremaine? she asks, her grin threatening to tear her in half. you are the proud father of your own pair of twins. nico and camila, two point oh.
like i’m on a rollercoaster that only goes up, mrs. tremaine.
mrs. tremaine? she questions, catching the end of his sentence like it was a fastball coming at her in the major leagues.
alistair turns in his spot, causing the new baby to laugh in his arms, reaching up for his father as it claws the air for something, anything, to hold onto. yes, mrs. tremaine.
camila smiles, this had to be the fourteenth time he’s tried to propose since they found out they were going to have a baby and, well, it was about time she gave him her answer.
mrs tremaine sounds nice.
even if she had decided on it years before.
-
the wedding doesn’t come soon enough, she realises. she had hoped that once she left the hospital, signed off all the documents, began a life as a mother, she would be able to plan a wedding to her liking. but life, as every cliche says, got in the way.
alistair was swamped from the get go, promotion after promotion, job offer after job offer. he was rising, and rising fast, within the industry, the nation wanted his attention, wanted his approval. a sought after lawyer came with a high profile title and an even higher price, he explains, unnecessarily, one night when she hadn’t even asked.
she was gracious in the face of turmoil and she planned her wedding, silently, quietly, while raising a pair of twins and offering publicity control to shield. camila was a warrior and a makeshift princess and through heaven or high hell will she remains so.
-
it takes five years but she eventually flutters down the aisle. a vision of white lace and perfection, ready to pin his last name to her own, more than happy to be there, bubbly champagne in her walk and she gets drunker with each step.
anthony stands firm, strong, shoulders back and a determined look on his face as he balances the pillow in his five year old arms. little natalia is next to him, spitting image of her mother, politely, delicately, throwing flowers in her wake and camila every so often, pats each child on the shoulder to let them know that they were doing a great job. they were named after their grandmothers, her children, natasha and anastasia, and both were the perfect representation of each.
her husband stands at the altar, arms together, smiling like a child, so much so that her sons namesake, the new king, tells him to close his jaw. she remembers very little, not the suit he wears, or the number of people in attendence, not the lights or the flowers or her own trail (she stumbles, natasha catches her, saving her beloved daughter even til the day that she dies).
he’s happy to see her and without thinking, without realising that she was twenty three and should have graduated from the school of young love, she hugs him, tight, thin arms wrapping around his torso and without a single step of hesitation he hugs her back and they stay like that. no one bothered otherwise.
-
the ceremony is over before she realises, the reception following suit and even their honeymoon and then they’re back to their lives. she’s dressing natalia up for ballet recitals and anthony for martial art lessons while making alistair a lunch and bribing him to stay in bed for just a little while longer, that the firm will survive without him, he’ll remind her that he already took a sick day the other day to stay home with her and she’ll laugh, feigning a horrible memory, and pull him back to her.
soon everyone finds their routines and every moment is a rush, a stark opposite from her own life growing up. anthony plays basketball and so needs to be at school before the sun is up while natalia finds her way into debating and she needs to stay at school until the sun is down.
there are ups and there are downs but each day is a blessing and only when she has everyone together does she realise this. natasha takes her grandchild, her own namesake, into her arms and whirls her happily, clint making the sounds of helicopters as he clings onto the girls. anthony finds his way to his uncles, uncle nico and uncle henry, happy to take their favourite nephew, their son if nico was ever successful in his kidnapping threats, into their laps and making him laugh until he cannot breathe.
they would call home, to france, and chortle when benjamin answers the call, his wife and own child waving in the background, always sharing a new story of the kingdom and the greatness of it all.
the tremaine household came next, his parents spending hours cooing at the twins until one of them, normally natalia, fell asleep in her mothers lap. then they would call liliana, who looked more and more a vision of beauty every time that they call. she suspects it’s evan that makes her blush and glow, a familiar reaction to love, camila teases, watching both her youngest brother and little sister-in-law blush at her comments. later she would whisper to alistair that liliana was next and he would ignore her, declaring she was too young to be married. not that anthony doesnt already get mistakan as her son or anything.
-
when all is said and done and they’ve all sent home and the twins are tucked, tightly, well loved, into bed and camila climbs in next to alistair can she realise.
she ridiculously, entirely, completely happy.