"Jaclyn Webber, the star of the Royal Ballet Company and Prince William's long time girlfriend was mobbed this weekend by press just a block from Wembley Stadium. Ironically, Webber and her family, parents Brad and Michelle and seven year old Caleb, were on their way to Wembley for the concert dedicated to Diana, the late Princess of Wales, who was killed in a car crash involving paparazzi. The Royal Ballet director, Monica Mason, released this statement following the incident..."
"Putting aside the fact that Jaclyn Webber and her family are private citizens. I would like to remind everyone that as a professional dancer, Ms. Webber's health is insured, and if anything happens that prevents her from performing then those responsible will be held accountable to pay the price for their irresponsible actions
"Following this statement Clarence House released their own..."
"Prince William is very unhappy with the events that transpired on Sunday that led his to girlfriend Jaclyn Webber being minorly injured. Behavior like this is unacceptable when Webber is a private citizen who was trying to enjoy the day with her family. The situation is proving unbearable for all those concerned."
"To the surprise of many, several were outraged over the attack, and took to Facebook, Twitter and personal letters to voice their upset. The most popular of these statements was done by Sylvie Astor who lives near The Flame, a memorial dedicated to the late Princess of Wales. With her statement she released four never before seen photos of Webber at the memorial. Each one taken a year apart, and each on August thirty-first. Astor said:
"A part of me never wanted to share these photos, nor should I have ever taken them. Each one is an intimate moment between a young girl, a lost loved one, and none of us truly deserve to witness the beauty of these moments. But I want everyone to see a side of Jaclyn Webber the media does not grant us.
On August 31, 2001, I was sitting on my balcony paying my respects to the memorial that was just outside my home when this young woman showed up to do the same. She tried her best to hide, but how could I not recognize her. Each year, until she returned to London, she showed up at the same time, and did the same thing. She reached out, inhaled as her hand graced the flame, and sat down until the sky turned dark.
The paparazzi stalked this girl when she was seventeen, they forced her from her home at eighteen, and now they threaten her very safety at twenty-four. This is exactly what happened to Diana, and we cannot stand by and let it happen again. Look at these pictures of this young woman scared and alone, but seeking help from a woman who's fame killed her. Now go look at the photos from this weekend of Jaclyn bleeding and bruised while protecting her little brother, who not only has autism but is only seven years old. Look at what these monsters are willing to do to sell a story, and please don't let history repeat itself.
----
July 7, 2007/
The car was obscenely quiet, William with his gaze glued to the road, and Jaclyn with hers on the greenery outside. She tried to stop twisting her hands or fiddling with her hair, instead counting the houses they passed, or focusing on the perfectly shaped clouds. A summer day had arrived at last in all it's beauty, but her anxiety was too crippling to appreciate it.
Today was possibly the worst day, for the photos to be released, and she'd lost track of the amount of times she internally cursed as they drove to Balmoral. William hadn't uttered a word about them, but she knew him well enough to know that's where his mind was.
There was nothing to be said, mainly because she was slightly confused why it was bothering him so.
"You never said..."
"What?" She asked even though she already knew what he was talking about.
Subconsciously the images appeared in her mind, and she recalled her fingers tracing the tiny outline of her silhouette hours earlier. The first picture, which was taken weeks after she arrived in Paris, her hand grasped to golden metal as if desperate to not be separated from it. The second her head was bowed, hands covering her eyes as she softly cried.
The trips were always supposed to be private, something for her only, but she smiled seeing the growth between each one. By the fourth and final one she seemed almost like a new person. Head no longer bowed, and proud of herself.
"We were talking again by that second summer, and..." He stopped to search for the words, fingers thrumming the steering wheel. "You looked so sad, and alone, but you never said anything. Why?"
"I'm not really sure," she spoke up, a new reminiscent glow across her face. "I wasn't actively trying to keep it a secret. I'm sorry if you're upset-"
"Why would I be upset?"
She sat up straighter, eyes shooting up from her lap to see William was truly lost and not being cruelly sarcastic. "I'm not really sure," she hesitated, lip finding it's way between her teeth, "I guess I was worried your family wouldn't like it."
His shoulders shrugged, but with a lot of difficulty like there was something in her answer he didn't like. His free hand shifts over the center console so it conceals hers. The gravity between them pulls her stare up so the blue of his eyes drills her. Just as quickly as he glances at her, he turns back to the road.
"Truth be told I was sad, but I couldn't tell you that. You would've marched across the ocean, and tried to fix everything. When I needed to learn how to fix things on my own." Jaclyn giggles at the thought now, but years ago she would have bit his head off. Now she turns her hand around, weaving their fingers together in a firm hold.
They turned down a long road that grew more slender the longer they went on. Towering trees that were older than them both combined lined the road. Cutting off the cerulean sky, and casting a shadow over the nearly tunneled road. Just when you think it would go on forever the car broke through the hall of trees, and out the window the ground turned to short perfectly even grass, framing the road that led straight to Balmoral Castle.
"Sometimes I think you would've been better off if I left you alone." His words cut through the stifled air circling them. The blame is clear in his voice, and the ghosts that have been swirling in his eyes for past the week are starting to make sense. Every time he glanced at the scabbed scar healing on her head he choked on guilt.
Jaclyn turned to face William, lips parted, and hand raised to grasp his shoulder, but before she could he slammed the brakes and slipped from the car. She scrambled after him, heel of her ankle boots twisting, so she grasped the door as she fell from the car.
Above them silhouettes of spying people sat like portraits in the windows. Jaclyn's stare upwards is fleeting once she accepts the fact they won't turn away even when caught. Instead, she skittishly shuffles over the gravel, and laces her fingers through Williams, pulling him hard enough that he nearly topples on top of her as she pulls them into a secluded corner.
William finds himself pressed into the corner of the grey stone pillars. Hidden from view with his family and whoever else left behind. Even the afternoon sun obscured their image as a shadow cast down on them from the castle.
Jaclyn pushed up onto her tip toes on one foot while the other propped behind her pointing, while her head tilted upwards to look at him. Her palms are flat to his chest, and anchors to hold her up. It's moments like these where William is reminded of her hidden and sheer strength. He could flip them around easily, but what she lacks in height and size she makes up for with her grace and agility. They would end up back where they started, and he would be clueless to how. Besides her palms are searing to his shirt, her leg tangled neatly between his, and something sharp in her eyes that's warning him to stay still.
"I'm right here, with you, and I'm fine." She takes his hand, and places it over her heart. Allowing him to feel the rise of her chest with each breath and the beat of her heart. Her hand that's not holding onto his wrist trails up to her cheek, placing her pulse along his jaw. "Don't ever say something like that again. Not when I'm choosing to be here."
"You know I didn't mean it."
"But I know you're blaming yourself for what happened."
William stayed silent his eyes a blazing blue that looked down on with such an intensity that her heart beat sped up under his hand. Her fingers traced a path from his jaw up through his hair, which was almost impossible with the height difference, but she needed a way to wash the stress from his gaze. The stress that casted down on her as if she were already a ghost.
"You go through too much because of me, and you can't deny that," he said.
Her grip softened, and William pulled her in so her cheek rested against his chest. "I guess, but you go through a lot too, so do Nat, Thomas, the strangers we pass on the street... Yes, my life would be different without you, but I would still have struggles, and I don't if they would be worse or not, but I don't care. I would take this life with you over any other."
There was a kiss to her head, and she moved to look up at him, pushing back up on her toes and hooking her arms around his neck. "I love you."
In response William pushed forward and locked their lips together in a sweet and passion driven kiss.
-----
It's just a weekend...
No more than forty-eight hours...
The affirmations are on repeat the second Will and her split, the butler escorting her through the palace to her room. The man peered down at her with lips pulled inwards as he pointed out each room, and went over the itinerary. She didn't have the guts to say she already had it memorized.
They walked and walked down the endless cream halls, and made so many turns the carpet changed at least three times. Finally they stopped in front of a closed wood door. "I apologize, the room is not our best, the housekeeper forgot you were coming and the staff were unable to prepare a room," his nose crinkled as she stepped around him to survey the room, "If necessary I'll have the maids put together a different room."
The disbelieving laughter bubbled in her gut and up her throat, but she bit it down. It probably wasn't best to remind the snooty man that she lived in a house that was smaller than the room itself growing up, so she only smiled and feigned sincerity. "Please don't, I would hate to disturb them especially when this room is lovely."
His head tilted to her in understanding, and he departed. Leaving Jaclyn to survey the room. The bed post was made of the same bronze colored wood as the door, and dresser. Gentle blue drapes falling down that complimented the rich navy on the curtains. Small pictures hung sporadically, but they were landscapes, and nothing like the grand and imposing portraits that watched her in every other part of the castle.
She fell back on the neatly made bed, and allowed the bright light that magnified off each surface to encompass her. Clearly the staff had arranged this on purp, or perhaps someone in the family did. Lady Mountbatten had warned her the weekend would be trying. All eyes would be on her to see how much she could take, separating her from everyone else by placing her room on the other side was just the first step.
A smirk pulled at her lips as she rolled over on the comforter. If they expected her to pitch a fit for not being placed in one of the "extravagant" rooms they were in for a rude awakening. And if the old school staff expected her to feel lesser solely based on the room then they would be disappointed.
Her week had already been tortuous. Head pounding in each rehearsal, flinching each time is someone called her name, frantically calling William in tears because it felt like the air was being choked out of her again and people were crowding her and... It was always just her head.
Balmoral will be a nice break, she thinks forcing a smile. The paps can't bother her out here. She doesn't have to be afraid to step outside.
A few hours later, spent anxiously hiding in her room and getting ready way too early, Jaclyn left for the drawing room thirty minutes early...
It was once she had to be halfway to the drawing room, that a voice called out, and she turned around exhaling deeply. "Jac," the Zara jogged over to her and her arms wrapped around the shorter girl, "I love your dress where'd you get it?"
"Kate, I can't drop my already limited paycheck on new dresses sadly." Her hands ran nervously over her dress, exhaling now that she knew at least one person knew she looked nice.
"You couldn't have borrowed a pair of her shoes as well?"
"What's wrong with my shoes?"
"Well... Nothing," she hesitated, looking anywhere but at Jaclyn, failing to hide her smile. "It's nothing really, they're just a bit dowdy."
Jaclyn scoffed, going to swat Zara's shoulder before she retracted. They were still alone in the hall, but Lady Mountbatten's warnings were still loud and clear. There were eyes and ears everywhere. "For your information, they're cheap, they've lasted for years, and they have great arch support."
"Not helping your case." Zara's eyes rolled.
They continued walking, slowing their pace to catch up, and for Zara to quiz Jaclyn one last time on dinner etiquette. They were the first to arrive in the brightly decorated drawing room. However Jaclyn felt the air was heavier than it appeared in her room, and not as inviting. Here everything was refined, and maroon was the prominent color, even in the portraits.
"Jaclyn, when did you get here?"
The two blondes spun on their heels just as the two youngest guests scampered into the room. Eugenie and Beatrice were now seventeen and eighteen, but it was still hard for her not to see the young girls she first met all those years ago.
Jaclyn smiled, and started to drop into a curtsy as Lady Mountbatten had instructed. "Your Royal Highness's-
"What's she doing?" The two sisters shared an amused look between each other, and Zara was hiding giggles behind her hand. Even resorting to pulling out her mother's stoic face.
"I don't think you've curtsied once to us in the eight years you've known us..." Eugenie paused, Jaclyn still stuck in a half curtsy, "Do it again!"
She huffedz hands on her hips. "I'm just trying to be proper!"
"Well," Beatrice waved her on, "Do it again."
-----
As dinner commenced William tried his best to enjoy himself, but his breathing hadn't been normal in a week. He didn't like the uncertainty that came from being separated from Jaclyn, but she had rehearsal and he had engagements. Any and everything he did, there was always the lingering worry aching in his mind, his hand itching to check his phone to make sure she was okay.
To say the least, it was torture and now all he wanted was to keep her close as they relaxed in the country.
He forgot that rules would bind them to opposite sides of the table. He, beside his father on his grandmother's side of the table, while Jaclyn occupied the last seat on the other end. With five people between them he couldn't lean forward and try to talk to her.
"How are you feeling about championships, Zar?" Harry asked their cousin who sat diagonally from them.
"Like you really care?" She snarked, and it was almost like they were kids again, throwing peas at each other when their grandparents turned their backs. Harry must have been reading his mind because not even two seconds later a pea hit Zara squarely on the nose.
"I saw it then, and I still see it now," Anne sighed from beside him, not bothering to look up from her meal.
The conversation tuned out in his head as he focused on his food, looking up occasionally to share a word with his father or grandmother, or to laugh as Peter and Harry and Zara were all scolded by Anne.
"The concert was a smashing success," Edward called politely across the table, William blushed and Harry raised his glass ready with a snarky statement of gratitude when he was cut off.
"If you look past the part where Will let his girlfriend get mauled," Andrew chuckled. Something clouded and mischievously grey held his eyes, and William had to grip at the tablecloth to stay sitting when his uncle turned that conniving look on Jaclyn.
"Well that's not exactly-"
"Andrew that's hardly an appropriate conversation for the table," his grandmother stopped Jaclyn's soft correction, and sent her second son a warning glare. The man hardly seemed bothered, leaning back in his chair. Andrew was Elizabeth's favorite son, and from the beginning he got away with about everything. The only thing keeping William in his own seat was the fact that Jaclyn had the support of Mike and Autumn down at that side as well.
"What?" Andrew asked almost innocently, and now quietly he mumbled, "It's not like we can ignore it." Murky eyes turned away from Jaclyn's flustered face, and towards William. A challenge evident, waiting to see his move, and his hands twisted further into the cloth. Was this some kind of test, and which of them is there subject?
Charles clamped his hand down on his son's knee under the table, but never turned away from his food. It wasn't acting, or keeping up an appearance. More an attempt to not let his brother get under his skin, and by extension his son's.
But Andrew never knew when to shut up.
"Most girls would've run for the hills, not capable of handling the pressure."
"I don't think you're the right person to educate me on what most girls can and cannot handle." The table fell silent, and he had to commend Jac later. Her voice never raised, nor did her face show regret. She just continued eating as if her snap was nothing to be ashamed of. He had a small feeling on the inside she was screaming at herself for slipping.
"It's nice that we finally get to meet you, Jaclyn," Sophie, ever the mediator, spoke up.
Jac turned to her, still outwardly unbothered, and turned on her award winning smile. "Yes, I agree, I'm having a lovely time."
His grandfather, who had been oddly quiet and observant, suddenly turned to Jaclyn and William hid his nervous gulp behind his glass of water. "Miss Webber, I think you should accompany me out stalking tomorrow."
-----
For the summer the morning air was oddly chilled. Fog turning the blooming colorful sky to blurred lines of yellow, blue, and grey. The ground was damp around them, and squished as the tires of the small vehicle rolled through the grass and mushy paths.
"I assume you've never gone stalking?" Prince Philip finally spoke up. His voice was slightly gruff, hoarse possibly from sleep, but somehow regal as a baritone.
Jaclyn sent him a nervous smile, as his eyes diverted momentarily from the road, if you could even call it a road. Her mind was running a mile a minute and throbbing. The Duke had invited her to show solidarity, and to brush past her slip up with Andrew. She couldn't mess up. Not again. But could anyone really blame her? Andrew had been pushing her limits the second she sat down, but as soon as he attacked William over the incident she lost all self control.
"You assume correctly," she sighed, the toe of her borrowed stalking boots scuffing the floor. "Although, my father used to take me hunting."
"Really? What for?"
"Deer and turkey mostly. I won't lie and tell you I enjoyed it, but it's still quite different from this," she laughed, but the strain released when she saw the older man joined her. Clearly appreciating her honestly.
"I imagine a lot of things are."
"I suppose, but I believe I've adjusted well." For a moment only the crunch of gravel could be heard amongst the symphony of nature as they both fell silent.
"Well you've done better than any of us assumed you would," he said. The consort then veered the car, slid it into park, and got out before she could say anything about his revelation. Jaclyn briefly glanced back at their guide who was laying sideways in the backseat.
She walked behind him, eyes gaping at his back as he hurried along despite his age. Occasionally he glanced back to make sure she was still alive, and each time his smirk got more teasing. In an attempt to close the gap she jogged after him, and came to a sliding halt in the sludge, hands clasping her knees as she bent over to catch her breath. Their guide was still sprinting to catch up, reprimanding them both.
"How are you fairing?"
Her laughter huffed out quietly, and as she turned her head back up to the sky she saw he was looking down on her measly wound. "Really I'm fine. I've sustained more injury in a single dance class than I did that morning."
"So, Lady Mountbatten's warnings about you were correct," He mused to himself, eyebrows raising in challenge.
Jaclyn huffed, choking on her breath.
"Are you not a professional ballerina?" Philip asked, arms crossing teasingly.
"Most dancers have awful stamina, but don't change the subject. You're basically required to tell me what Lady Mountbatten said."
He paused thinking contemplatively, but turned with that glinting smirk that he shot her last night just before he saved her from a weekend of shame. "Just that you're stubborn, and tough as nails at work."
Her blush spread across her cheeks and down her neck, the same color as the fading sunset beyond the horizon, and unable to decide what to say she kept walking. The stick thing she was given was the only thing holding her up.
"Being out here has made me realize how much I miss the country
"Is there a country girl under the tough city girl?"
"I grew up surrounded by corn and bean fields. What do you think?"
"Well that's good," he laughed as they continued on. The calls from the guide to take it easy once again falling on deaf ears. "You'll need that to be apart of this family."
"I-"
"Sorry," he backtracked, but he didn't move in a hustle waving off his statement like others. He just kept going, "and I'm sorry if it seems some of the others are impatient with the whole ordeal. The Queen and I actually appreciate your caution."
"It's not that I don't want to. It's just that dancing was all I wanted to do for so long. I know I'll have a short career, but I need to continue for a little longer."
"Understandable, if I could have stayed in the Navy longer I would have. You should take the time now for yourself because the rest of your life will be dedicated to him." They held each other's gaze before he said, "It's hard for some people to swallow, but there is one singular person that matters in this family, and one day it may be your responsibility to look out for that single person."
She inhaled his words, rolling them over. For centuries the monarch was the face of England, but it was their Consort, their silent shadow, that supported the country. If the regent was the beating heart then the consort was the backbone. In past, and surely in the future when kings were unfavorable it was their wives who won the favor of the populace with their charm and strength. She tilted her head to peer over at Philip. As unorthodox and unruly as he could be, he was the comic relief to his wife's seriousness. The strong voice of raging opinions to her silence.
Jaclyn didn't need to know yet what kind of consort she would be, but one day she'll need to before it's decided for her.
"Sir, I must urge you to be careful-"
"Surely, you're not telling the Duke of Edinburgh what to do?" She whirled around to face the still huffing guide, and then back to Philip with an inspective look. "He seems to be handling himself well enough to me." For the first time the duke laughed, smiling broadly as they continued on.
Test passed
-----
Hey Everyone! Sorry if this chapter seems dialogue dense and lacking description. It just got so long I probably should have broken it up. Anyways, Part III is on the way! I'm pre writing as much as I can right now, and I'll start publishing those chapters soon hopefully.
William's statement regarding Jac is also based off of his 2007 statement for Kate, and the last line is a direct quote.
As for this chapter, I'm still trying to work out the characterizations for the other royals, and when deciding who should be the jerk at the table I obviously chose the person who will turn out to be a pedophile. Speaking of that we don't actually know how much each member of the family knew, according to sources everyone was blindsided by Andrew's ties to Epstein, but even before that I think he had precarious relationships with everyone, except Elizabeth because he was her favorite.
For the stalking scene with Philip you might notice I've taken inspiration from The Crown with Diana's own trip with him. However, there are differences. You'll notice in The Crown it's Diana who spots the stag and gives him advice on how to shoot it, and that's how she wins him over. Jaclyn doesn't have that kind of skill set. Instead she wins him over with her honesty and not treating him like he's dying, two things Prince Philip greatly appreciated in real life.