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"Where are we going again? And why do you have tinted windows? It's illegal. Who do you think you are huh? Royalty?" Louis asked before realising what he was saying. "I am actually royalty, baby," he smirked. "Shut up and tell me, Styles," he huffed. "We're going to meet my parents. Thought I'd return your favour from a week ago." he smiled, holding Louis' hand. "What if they ask for my head on a platter?" he asked, laughing nervously. "They won't, baby. Besides, now you know how it feels to meet your boyfriend's parents," he said with a look that was all too smug for Louis' liking. "I hate you," he huffed, staring at his reflection in the tinted window. Harry smiled like he knew more than Louis did. 

Louis had never been inside Windsor Castle but Jesus was it beautiful. His eyes sparkled with the lights that reflected off the chandeliers. This was where Harry grew up. The grounds he was standing on were the very grounds his Harry ran about on. "This is where Harry Styles was made then huh?" he asked Harry who was talking to a maid. "Yes yes. I'll give you a tour later. Can we go meet my parents first? They're in the parlor," he insisted, taking Louis' hand. And Louis had little to say to him, this was the place his nightmares lived. 

Louis fixed his own collar as he stepped inside the parlor to find Robin, the queen, Gemma and...Esther. "Good afternoon," Harry beamed, placing a hand on the small of Louis' back. They all nodded with stoic faces. Gemma flashed them a sorry smile. "This is Louis but I'm sure you all know him very well," Harry began, walking them to the loveseat beside the couches the others were sat on. "Now, of course, you all are wondering why I called for you all to join me for tea," he continued, "And no, it wasn't only to introduce you to Louis. I'm sure newspapers have informed the whole of Europe about me. No, this is about something I should have addressed years ago," he sighed and all the colour dropped from Louis' face. 

"What are you talking about, Harry?" Robin asked, face showing clear disinterest. Louis just grasped Harry's hand harder. "Oh, I'll tell you exactly what I'm talking about. Your sister Esther had raped me more times than I can count. Honestly, I think I stopped counting after the first year," he said with the years of hurt showing in his eyes. Louis' heart clenched as all the faces in the room dropped, unable to speak. 

Esther was the first to speak up. "Harry, what do you mean?" she asked. "Was I not coherent enough, ma'am? You fucking raped me for more than half of my childhood," he said, voice unwavering. Louis couldn't help but feel proud, locking his fingers with Harry's and clenching his hand. Anne gasped in horror, standing up. "My baby," she choked as she paced towards Harry, sitting beside him. "Love, what is this really about? You know I do support your relationship with Louis right?" she asked, saccharine sweet. "Don't you fucking dare say his name and I don't give a flying fuck about what you support," he snarled, gripping Louis' hand tighter. "Then why are you saying utter nonsense on such a wonderful evening?" she asked, the smile still present. Harry was staring at her in disbelief when Louis spoke up. "He isn't speaking nonsense for God's sake! This man had been hurting from the day he can remember, he can't sleep and for Christ's sake, he is so goddamn afraid! Do you have any idea how hard this is for him? How much courage it takes to speak up like this?" he asked, voice loud enough to boom across the room. "Who gave you the permission to speak like that to me? And how does this even matter to you?" she asked, almost like a strict teacher. Harry was Louis' lover, his best friend, his reason behind most things he did, the person behind the confidence he carried himself with. But none of them fit his description of what exactly Harry meant to him. "I'm sure I got the permission to speak like that to you when you first touched him. And this matters a lot to me. He's my world and believe me when I say it, I will fucking fight for him till I have nothing more to give him and that is never happening," he growled, eyes fixed on her ones. She didn't speak further. 

After god knows how long, Robin broke the tension. "Esther, what do you have to say for yourself?" he asked, glaring at her. "Robin, you can't be serious! I love Harry like a son," she cried, fists clenching. "Say my son's name again and I'll put you six feet under right here in this room," he spoke calmly. "I haven't done any of the things he claims I have," she said firmly, smoothing her skirt. "You goddamned bitch, don't speak unless it isn't bullshit!" Gemma yelled, standing up. "That will be enough, Gemma," he started, "Now, I have absolutely no reason to not believe Harry. Esther, I'll be sending you off to the Isle of Iona. You will be prohibited to be in the same country as him, your passport will no longer allow you to travel out of Scotland your royal status will be revoked. To put it simply, I'm banishing you," he said coldly, glaring at her. "I...you can't do this...you have no proof," she stuttered. "You asking for proof of your heinous actions is proof enough for me, sister," he replied curtly. "Robin...are you sure about this? How do you know this isn't a ploy to gain your sympathy?" she asked tentatively. "Esther, this boy doesn't want my sympathy. That was made clear to me since he could walk. He has always made it known that he doesn't care about what I think so yes, I'm sure there is no ploy behind this." He glared at her. Anne smoothed out the wrinkles on Harry's shirt and he leaned into the touch.

 "How could you do this to my child?" Anne snarled, walking up to her, "How could you even think about touching him? He was a baby for fuck's sake! A baby!" she yelled with tears in her eyes, shaking her shoulders. Esther didn't say anything. "You're a monster, you fucking bitch! How dare you?" she shouted, voice strained. Robin pulled her away, patting her back. She shook him off and fell back into her seat beside Harry. "I'm so sorry my baby. God, I'm so sorry," she wailed, pressing kisses on his forehead, "Oh my God, I should have known. Charles always informed me about your visits when I was gone. I simply pushed it off as you checking up on the kids," she gasped. "It's fine, mummy. I'm alright," Harry spoke after a long time, voice scratchy. "No, it's not fine. I will kill this cursed slag!" she cried. "I love you, mum," he smiled, wrapping himself around her. "I love you too, munchkin. I love you too," she sighed. 

When Esther was being escorted out of the room, Harry was surrounded by his family. Yes, that fucked up family with the rules, regulations and secrets. But, that family also loved him endlessly because after all, he was still that dimpled boy with the curls who loved to smile.

"Thank you, dad," he said with tears in his eyes. "Thank you, Harry. I think I forgot along the way between our squabbles that you're still my son," he said in a choked voice, engulfing Harry in his arms. He melted easily into the embrace and Louis would admit without any shame that he was crying too. 

Anne had insisted that they stay the night after their dinner and Harry obliged without hesitation. Neither of them was in the state to go back home and they knew that. Maybe what sealed the deal was Robin looking at Harry with nothing but pride in his eyes. 

"I like this right now, nothing but us," Louis hummed, massaging shampoo into Harry's curls. Somewhere between undressing for bed and wanting to take showers, they had ended up drawing a bath with apple-scented bubbles. "Lou, do you love me?" he asked, leaning into Louis' body. "I love you, Bambi. I'll always love you," he assured. "I'm proud of you, you know that Harry?" he asked softly. Harry nodded, smiling.

Louis was sat on the bed in Harry's childhood bedroom, smoothing out the wrinkles on the sheets when Harry emerged out of the bathroom. "C'mere," Louis smiled, spreading his arms and Harry crawled into the space. Louis languidly kissed Harry, letting him take whatever he wanted. 

"Do I still taste like the wars I fought in my past? Do you see scars of war etched onto my skin? Do you feel my fragile body slowly putting itself together when you hold me? Do you still see fear in my eyes when you look into them, Louis?" he asked, looking into his eyes after suddenly pulling away from the kiss. "You always will taste like them, I will always see the scars but I know that one day your body will be done putting itself together and the fear will be gone. I know that because you're the strongest, bravest man I know," Louis replied, that pride in his expression never fading. It was there to stay, maybe for eternity because he was endlessly proud of him. Harry had won.  

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