The Shield (Prince Harry fanfic #2)

Chapter Three

The sun shined on her hair, illuminating her surroundings. Her large backpack was loaded upon her body as she walked away from the crowd in the market. The train was coming, and she wanted to get on it. For the last month, she had traveled around Europe, going from here to there, like many Americans did during the summer before college. However, she wasn't going to college. She could've, if she chose to, but she didn't want to. There was another institution that she didn't need to be at. As if she ran from her problems, she had gone everywhere, done everything. She hadn't touched one country, Great Britain. Honestly, she had been putting it off, but it was a country she had always wanted to go to again. She decided to go now, before she had to be somewhere else.

And, she added to herself, the country was large enough that she wouldn't be anywhere near him. Even while she was in London, she was still far away from him. Their paths wouldn't cross.

She watched everything as music played around in the market square. People rushed past her, along with many tourists. Parents called to their children, the locals, while tourists swarmed the street performers. The smell of the local food danced on her tongue, and she wished to stay a little longer. But her train called for her. Soon enough, she would be on her way to Britain.

She told herself she could manage staying away from him. Fate wasn't cruel, she hoped.

Music played around her, and she laughed to herself. She felt as if she belonged here, never going back to the U.S. There didn't feel like a home anymore, but here she felt alive, free. She laughed with the smiling faces that opened their eyes to amazement when they decided to travel. The world was a wonderful place. You just to be ready to live it.

For a second, with her backpack pressed to the wall, she watched the crowd. She loved to be apart of it, to breathing the air, but her next stopped called for her.

A breeze blew her hair around, and bubbles from a street performer glided high into the air. Children jumped for the bubbles, smashing them in their small hands and the bubbles popped. Technicolor-ed bubbles continued to climb in the high air with sun rays reflecting through. Children continued to jump for the bubbles, even when the parents couldn't even reach.

She nodded to the world she was leaving behind and walked on.

Zooming through the crowds, she made it onto the train. The train station here was even beautiful, with bright colors and pictures, all the places you could've been and all the things you could've done. She had marked off another of things and places as she could, all written on a notebook that she got for cheap in one of the towns along the way, at the beginning of her travels. Her old journal, the one her parents had gotten for her long ago, was gone, left in Africa, and by now, it was somewhere else. She thought she would never see it again.

People gathered on the train, more and more coming. People were crowded, all with tickets. Seats were taken again and again, as people did their best to find which one they really wanted. She was already seated, watching outside as people continued to walk around, coming from every direction and every way of life. They all came to thrive in one place.

There were calls on the trains, friends to friends, saying they found seats, and others gave up sitting next to each other. Many languages were spoken, all coming from different lives, and they all lived together peacefully.

Excitement filled her as the train lurched for, calling for any more travelers. They were leaving now. They were going on an adventure. The train whistle called again and again, and people still got onto the train. More people ran on, and their tickets were checked. People sat anywhere with a seat. The train whistle blew again, and the train lurched forward again. It pulled away from the station, leaving the beautiful city behind, and they entered the countryside, to be alone with your thoughts.

Soon, the train chugged along, on their way. The world moved past her, and she stopped paying attention to her surroundings. Somewhere in the back of her mind, always there, like before she fell asleep, when she laid in bed at night, and the world moved too fast around her, she thought of him.

She hadn't heard anything about Harry for a while, maybe a week, and sometimes wherever she was, they didn't care. He didn't make the news often, and he did for two weeks. He had been found and brought back to Britain, and people had been so concerned over him. He was kept in people's prayers, and so many people left well wishes for him. She didn't do any of this, knowing he was strong enough to pull through it on his own. There was constant coverage on him, and he was unconscious for a while, but he awoke. It was a shock that it took him that long to wake up, but he did awake. His fans rejoiced.

Everyone wanted to know what happened to him, and the military gave as many answers as they could. Everything was brought to you by the British monarchy. Questions were asked the people of the slum, but Harry and her were the only ones who could really answer. There had been two more soul that could've answered, but they no longer breathed the air. This left Harry and her for the answers, and she was sure he gave all the answers he could. This left her.

Harry, from what she could remember, was supposed to have a charity event today, with his brother. This was to be his first time out since.

Vomit came up from her stomach, and she swallowed. Blinking away burning tears, she got up and grabbed her stuff. She did always get motion sick, and though she loved scenery, trains didn't help her stomach calm. She swung the backpack over her shoulder and moved throughout the busy compartments, going toward the back, hoping to find a restroom not in use. Someone quickly took her seat as she got up, not that she minded. With so many languages, she made eye contact with people instead of speaking and without pushing.

When she finally made it to the end, where the people had somewhat thinned out, she waited beside the restroom door, since it was currently occupied. She tried desperately to be lost in her own thoughts again so that she wouldn't think about how her stomach churned and groaned.

There was a click, and she waited for the door to open but it didn't. There was another click, and she waited again. The door didn't open. With the loud voices around her, she had a hard time concentrating on the sound, though she could've named it anywhere. She slipped off her backpack and it landed with a light thud. A man looked up beside her and she nodded, but he didn't understand. There was another click. She pushed her backpack in front of his feet and he almost argued but the restroom door swung open.

Let the end be said, Lucy was a badass.