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missameliep · 3 years

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Somewhere In Time - Desire & Decorum (Modern/Time Travel AU)

Book: Desire and Decorum Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth Foredale (OC) Characters: Elizabeth (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster; Earl of Edgewater (Vincent); Maria (OC); Dowager Countess Dominique; Countess Henrietta; Annabelle Parsons; Harry Foredale. Rating: M Warnings: mentions to death (non-descriptive); minor characters’ death. Word count: 8k

Summary: If you had the chance to fix the past and allow someone else’s happiness at the possible expense of your own future, would you do it? Elizabeth faces this dilemma when she wakes up one morning and realizes she is no longer in 2019. How will her actions impact the future?

Notes: * All characters belong to PixelBerry, except OCs. * English is not my first language. * This is my submission to CFWC Nerd Week - Prompt: Day 2 - Time Travel. Thank you for hosting this event @choicesficwriterscreations and congratulations on the blog’s 1st anniversary!

December 24th, 2019.

Calmness had settled over Edgewater manor.

Marking the passage of the hours, a centuries old pendulum clock stands like an imposing guard at the foyer, ticking regularly, reminding time do not stand still. The smaller hand points at eleven. Ticktock. And the bigger one approaches the three.

One could mistake that for any ordinary night and even forget Christmas would be celebrated the next day, if not for the greenery and fairy-lights from the elegant decorations and the persistent smell of cinnamon from the rabanadas[1] Elizabeth prepared with Briar and Mrs Daly’s aid and were eagerly devoured by some and eyed with suspicious or disgust by others – and by others I mean Countess Henrietta, Elizabeth’s step mother.

Once, Christmas’s Eve used to be more festive at the manor with friendly gatherings, singing and children’s anxiously inspecting the pile of presents under the decorated tree at the drawing room, guessing the contents of the boxes wrapped in colourful papers and tied with perfect bows. However, those days are in the past and the Earl of Edgewater’s daughter never partake in any of those joyous celebrations for a myriad of inexcusable reasons.

Except for the two couples at the living room, cosily snuggling in blankets, everyone else had retreated to their rooms after dinner. Most of the staff was dismissed by the Earl to celebrate the holidays with their own families, and the few employers working that day were given the night off. Only the Countess complained about it. For Elizabeth and Hamid, this was a chance to have the kitchen entirely to themselves.

Before the four started binge-watching Outlander, Elizabeth prepared popcorn and brigadeiro[2] with her boyfriend’s help, which consisted mostly of handing packages and distracting her with teasing kisses on her neck while she stirred the mixture in the pan and begging to taste it despite being too hot. On their turn, Briar and Edmund took all the time in the world retrieving bags of chips and cans of soda and beer from the pantry next doors.

The soft yellow glow from the fairy lights of one of the many Christmas’s trees decorating the house was the only other source of light besides the television. A bowl of popcorn on her lap, Elizabeth has her eyes glued at the large screen, despite having watched the series before. Amused, Hamid throws an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer. The woman smiles and nestles on his chest, earning a kiss on the top of her head.

“How do you like it?” she asks him softly.

“The series?” Hamid says, “It’s good.”

“I cannot believe you guys never watched Outlander…”

“Better late than never…” Briar says and leans closer to Elizabeth, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone, “By the way, does it make me a horrible person that I was totally turned on by that whipping scene?”

Elizabeth chuckles at the unexpected remark, but the man massaging Briar’s feet is not as amused.

“I’m right here, baby,” Edmund complains.

Scooting closer, Briar wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek.

“I love you, Eddie, and no one else, but I have functioning eyes. Just like you.” The blonde’s eyebrows raise almost reaching his hairline, at the knowing look his fiancée’s throw at him.

A chuckle rumbled into Hamid’s chest, and Elizabeth playfully shoves more popcorn into his mouth before he can say anything, and the others’ hushed conversation soon die down replaced by remarks about the series’ plot.

“Can you imagine how cool it would be going back in time like Claire?” Briar asks excitedly.

“Not cool at all,” Elizabeth replies. “Why would I go back to a time when there was no potable water or basic sanitation? People did not know about germs.”

“People smelled,” Edmund adds.

“Don't forget the rotten teeth,” Hamid points at his white smile before retrieving a spoonful of brigadeiro.

“No heating.”

“No antibiotics or vaccines.”

“Gosh! You guys are no fun!” Briar raises her hands in the air with exasperation. “How can you not see how amazing this experience can be? She can prevent horrible things from happening!”

Without missing a beat, Edmund states, “Two words: butterfly effect.”

“I need more elaboration on that, Eddie…”

“It’s a theory. Changing one event in the past, even a small one, can impact the future and even erase people’s existence. And it doesn't necessary mean whatever she is doing will make the future better.”

“And sometimes an isolated fact seems bad on its own,” Hamid pondered, “but it actually is part of a greater picture and contributes to other events and the overall consequences are positive.”

“True. Without World War II there wouldn’t be the United Nations nor lots of treaties on Human Rights,” Elizabeth adds, “I remember a passage from one of Hannah Arendt’s books when she was analysing the –” Elizabeth stops talking, acknowledging Hamid’s grin and the adoration in his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I love when you talk nerd.”

Hamid kisses the tip of her nose, and she giggles. The faint light concealed the way her cheeks still blush at his attention.

Another episode starts and the group shares impressions about the impacts of Claire in the past.

“Will she make it?” Briar whispers her question to Elizabeth.

“If I tell you that, I’ll spoil the show… for you and everyone else.”

“Alright,” she concedes and looks around. “I can’t believe you guys wouldn’t risk changing anything to make the present better…”

“I have played many games and watched many movies to consider that a good idea,” Edmund states.

“Lizzy mentioned World War II… Picture this: someone goes back in time and prevent Hitler from killing all those people. Imagine the lives that could have been saved! Is it not worth the try? Even if things get a little messy…”

“You mean killing Hitler?”

“There’s plenty of ways to stop him without actually killing him, Eddie…”

“The time traveller could help him become a successful artist. Maybe he would be less frustrated and murderous… Who knows?” Hamid suggests with an amused smile.

“See!” Briar says grinning. “An easy solution. No murder. Totally doable. Just buy the man’s crap paintings and no war.”

“And what about the others?” Elizabeth ponders, “Hitler never acted alone… and there was Mussolini too… and all the others… it was not a one man’s thing.”

“Alright, maybe we need to work some more on this one…” Briar sipped the beer and started over. “But consider this, don’t you think it would be amazing to help at least one person. I bet Lizzy’s great-grandma would be pleased if someone helped her with that Duke thing… With our knowledge we could totally prevent her from getting engaged to that git and it would not blow on our faces!”

Elizabeth gnawed at her thumbnail, pondering. “Maybe time travelling could work in particular situations like that… What you think?” she asked, looking at Hamid, but it was Edmund who spoke up.

“If Lady Clara does not get engaged to the Duke,” Edmund points out, “she would not learn about his schemes. Therefore, she would not prevent the coup he was orchestrating… Which means there is a chance he and his group could overthrow the monarchy in the end… Imagine all the outcomes.”

Hamid agrees. “And perhaps, changing that, Lady Clara and the Prince could marry earlier, and could have other children, affecting the Foredales’ offspring and Liz could not be here now.”

“Oh! I do not like that alternative!”

“Neither do I,” Hamid agrees and kisses her hand.

“Alright. Got it. Not messing with Lizzy’s great-grandma either… But I still think there are things we can change that could make things better and not erase our friends or blow up the entire world,” Briar mused.

“I think we should focus on the present,” Hamid muses, “That’s the only time that actually exists and when we can improve the future…”

“You’re so wise sometimes, meu amor[3]…”

“I know.”

“Baby, can we go to bed?” Edmund says softly, nuzzling against Briar’s neck. “I’m tired and Christmas’s day always starts very early in the morning. Despite us all being adults, lady grandmother still expects us to get together and open presents… And did I mention I’m tired?”

“I hope not too tired,” she teases, and he whispers something unintelligible that makes her laugh.

Switching off the television, the group bid goodnight, and each couple withdraws to their chambers.

After brushing her teeth, Elizabeth changed into her pyjamas, while Hamid was lying in bed, playing a game on his mobile. His eyes followed her, lost in her thoughts, slowly walking back to the room. The contemplative look he was too familiar with.

When she pulled the covers to get into the bed with him, he smiled at her and immediately put the mobile away.

“You don’t have to stop,” she says softly, kissing his cheek.

“I was just killing time until you came...” He tilted his face, capturing her lips for a kiss. “And I’d much rather do this!” When she smiled against his lips, his mouth trailed a path down her neck. His warm breath giving her goosebumps.

“Are you enjoying your first Christmas?”

His response was a hum against her sweet-scented skin.

“I have brought you a present. It’s under the tree.”

“Really?” Her voice raised with surprise, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “What is it?”

“You’ll see it in the morning.”

“Please…”

Still peppering kisses on her collarbone, he mouthed, “No.”

“Why did you have to say it? Now I’m curious and won’t stop thinking about it...”

“I’m confident I can provide a better distraction to your mind…” His hands travelled down her body and a soft pleased moan escaped her lips.

“So, I was wondering, do you think there are things we can change about our past that would not impact other people’s lives?”

His head tilted up and his dark eyes met hers. “Your dirty talking is getting weirder…”

She chuckled, and her fingers delved into his soft dark hair.

“Indulge me,” she pleaded, with the puppy eyes he cannot resist.

Hamid pondered for a moment until a playful smile curled the corners of his mouth.

“Our past shameful haircuts.”

“What?”

“Think about it. Fixing horrible hairstyles can’t possibly have lasting results other than improving ones’ own life and confidence... Imagine going back and helping your past self, preventing revolting nicknames that would follow you for years… It would be worthy telling ten-year-old Hamid to not let Hande cut his hair. One Youtube video is not enough to turn a girl with a scissor into an accomplished hairstylist, despite what that girl with the purple hair said.”

“Your ten-year-old self was already too cute and self-confident,” Elizabeth says, caressing his cheek. “That bad hair-cut was essential to help build your character.”

Both laughed at their silliness for a while, until Hamid gave in to his curiosity.

“So, what are you thinking about changing?”

“Why do you think I want to change anything?”

“Because I know you, hayatım[4],” he replies, propping an elbow and looking her straight in the eyes. The green eyes he adores. “Is it a test you want a do over?”

She hits his arm playfully. “My life is more than my studies… you know that.”

“Is it about me?” he teases, “I know you wanted to kiss me that day in my flat…”

She propped on her elbow too and faced him. “I wanted to kiss you many days in your flat, Hamid…”

“Ooh! Miss Foredale, that’s quite a revelation!” he quips, “But not grand enough to avoid my question…”

“Well… If I could, I would have been honest with my father. About my mother’s disease. I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I regret not telling…” she says, voice cracking while she blinked away the tears blurring her vision, “If I were given a do over, I’d do that… I would give them the chance. Maybe they could have been happy.”

“Even if it could impact your own future?”

The tips of her fingers traced random shapes up and down Hamid’s shirt, while she organized her thoughts and formulated an answer.

“I guess so… And… I don’t know… Maybe there could be a way to save Harry too…”

The flow of emotions completely blurred her vision, before the tears streamed down her cheek, and she averted her gaze. Immediately, Hamid pulled her flush to his chest, whispering soft comforting words against her hair. Despite her silence, he was aware the holidays prompted her to revisit too many memories, and the conversations earlier were just the last straw...

“I’m sorry. That’s silly. I’m being silly –”

“You are not,” he assures, and she sniffs.

“– I should not be sad over this…”

With her palms, she wipes the tears from her eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine…” She lied through her teeth, and tries to change the topic of conversation from herself, “Would you change anything? Besides your hair?”

“About my past? Never. All I am, all I did made me who I am and brought me here and to you, so no. I’m absolutely satisfied with my life.”

They went silent for a moment, and Elizabeth nestled on his chest, while Hamid stroked her curly hair.

“Do you think we would have fallen in love if we met under different circumstances, Hamid?”

“If I was to live a thousand lives, I would fall in love with you in each and every single one of them.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. My heart would just know you were out there, and I would travel the entire world to find you.”

“Aww that’s sweet…”

“That’s the truth.”

The light filtering through the curtains invaded the room and her dreams. Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open, and she flinched at the unexpected brightness for a winter’s morning.

A few seconds and realization dawned on her.

“Oh, no! We overslept!” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Grandma will be so angry.”

Sitting on the bed, she was about to call Hamid when her fingers retreated at the touch of the fabric covering her body. Instead of the grey stripped duvet, her hand pushed away a light summer blanket in lavender that wasn’t in her bed last night.

“Hamid, did you –” she interrupter herself when she reached for Hamid but did not find him beside her, which was an odd occurrence considering he rarely woke up before her or his alarm. His mobile was not by the bedside table, and she noticed she was not in the same room. The walls were covered in a pastel pink wallpaper with a delicate floral pattern, and there was no sign of her books over the desk.

Oh, God. Where am I? Do I sleepwalk now?

She got up and stared for a moment at the pink slippers waiting for her feet. A pair she hasn’t seen in years.

Is it a prank?

“Hamid?” she called him, but there was no answer and not a sign of him or his belongings anywhere. At the en-suite bathroom, a single bath towel was hanging and one toothbrush over the sink. When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she froze and stared at the reflection. Her curly hair was longer, with golden highlights and her jaw dropped revealing the braces attached to her teeth.

“Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh, my god! This is impossible!”

Running back into the bedroom, she found her mobile with its Yoda case over the side table. Had she not sit on the bed, the device and herself would have hit the ground when she read the date on the screen: July 3rd, 2013.

She googled the date, then the news, confirming the impossible. Her body fell back on the bed and she stared at the ceiling. A million questions running through her mind. Her heartbeat raced, and she rubbed her moist hands against the bedcovers.

Am I fourteen again or have I been dreaming everything else, including Hamid?

Her stomach sunk at this hypothesis. Reaching for the mobile, she googled his name and there were a few magazine articles from 2011 praising the looks and intelligence of the handsome teenager son of the Turkish ambassador at the United States. A sigh of relieve escaped her lungs. At least he is real, but this information does little to help her understand what is happening.

Closing her eyes, she inhales deeply. She pinches herself in the arm again and again. The pain is real, and she does not wake up.

Mobile in hand, she goes through her latest texts and finds the ones exchanged with her mother. A lone tear escapes her eye, and before she remembered the ocean between them, her fingers pressed the picture and the phone dials. It rings a few times before the husky voice speaks in Portuguese:

“Hello?”

“Mamãe[5]?”

“Liz, my dear, is something wrong?” her mother asks, her voice carries more worry than sleep.

“Nothing,” Elizabeth dismisses her concern, her throat tightening at the sound of her voice. Not even the videos feel so real. “I just wanted to tell you I love you. Sorry for waking you up for this –”

“I love you too, sweetie,” her voice was tender. “If you need to talk –”

“I’m fine. I’ll call you later. Bye.”

Her body was shaking when the happy tears stopped streaming down her cheeks. Another deep, calming inhale, and she got up. Even if it is merely a dream, she will not pass the opportunity to speak or see her mother.

Going through the wardrobe, Elizabeth picks one of the several fancy summer dresses her grandmother provided her every year and tied her hair in a single braid.

On her way downstairs, her eyes inspect it all. The house looks the same, yet so different from last night as if she is walking into an old movie or picture.

The sound of voices and the clinking of cutlery attracts her. At the terrace, like they do every summer, the family is gathered for breakfast. Her father, the Earl of Edgewater has his back turned away from her, sitting at the end of the long table filled with delicacies. The man’s hair is darker, less grey streaks pepper his head. Calmly, he spreads butter over a toast while chatting with Lady grandmother, who looks exactly the same, as if not a single day has passed. Henrietta sits across from her, sipping tea. By her side, on his usual chair is Edmund, who still had his cheeks tinted rosier by acne. By his side, hiding his mobile under the table, is Harry.

Elizabeth fails to hold a gasp at the sight of her younger brother.

Without a second thought, she runs and hugs him tightly. Startled, the boy drops the bagel he was taking to his mouth and it hits the ground.

“Eliza,” he squeals. “My bagel!”

“Vincent!” Henrietta roars, “that girl is attacking my son!”

“Sorry about that,” Elizabeth mutters under her breath, but leans again and kisses the boy’s cheek and hugs him more gently. “But I missed you so much!”

“What are you talking about? We played videogames until 2 in the morning…” he grumbles, trying to extricate himself from her embrace.

Finally, she lets him go and every pair of eyes stare at her.

“I – Sorry. I had a bad dream.” She grabs another bagel from the tray and hands it to Harry.

Taking her place at the other side of the table, besides her grandmother, she cannot stop staring at her brother.

“Two days to your birthday. Are you excited, Eliza?” Vincent asks,

“I could not be more excited, dad.”

Noticing the persistent stare, Harry makes a face at Elizabeth.

“Do not forget, after breakfast, we’ll go to Moorfield for the final fitting of your dress,” her grandmother says, and explains every little detail about the schedule for the next days, just like she remembers.

The entire day goes by and she cannot shake off the sense of déja vu. With every passing hour, certainty grows that she is living this same day again. She can predict everything that’ll happen.

Outside the store at Moorfield, the same dalmatian puppy runs loose after he escapes his owner. The man screams for people to get out of the way, and the dog bumps against Elizabeth’s leg on his way down the street until he enters a restaurant, its leash entangles around the legs of the waiter and he stumbles, dropping a tray of food with a loud clatter.

While her grandmother looked horrified at the scene, Elizabeth realized this could be the second chance she dreamed for so long.

Later that same day, as promised, she called her mother and asked about her health, just to be sure. The woman stifled and went silent for a long moment.

“Liz, you promised you would respect my wishes and not tell your father...”

“Don’t you think he should know?”

“I – Darling, it is probably nothing…” she paused, “Cancer is not a death sentence anymore.”

Her words carried her smile, like they so often did, and Elizabeth swallowed hard, knowing how this story ends.

The evening before her birthday, pacing in her room, Elizabeth considered her options. She will tell her father about her mother. Should he know about Harry too? Perhaps she should not tell him that…

At the hallway, she peeked inside the Earl’s study. Her father was working on his computer, and when he saw her at the door, he greeted her with a smile and noticed the worry frown in her face.

“Is something the matter, my dear?”

“Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he replies, and immediately raises to his feet.

Elizabeth closes the door behind her and joins her father at the small sofa.

“I have something important to tell you,” she says, trying to muster the strength to not stutter or abandon this task.

For the next ten minutes, she speaks without interruption. The man’s jaw drops, and his fingers delve into his hair, raking it back repeatedly.

When her mouth stops, it is his time to speak and he asks when Maria died.

“June 10, 2018.”

“Five years.” His hand covers his mouth. His shoulders droop and he leans forward as if suddenly his body gives up at the weight of her words. The man’s eyes return to his daughter’s face, and he asks, seeking a confirmation, “And we never talked about it?”

Elizabeth shook her head, and Vincent rubbed his face.

“Harry was such a skilled skier… so confident…” incredulity filling his tone. “When?”

“2018. The accident was on January 14, and he died two days later…”

“My God…” he sighs, and Elizabeth considers if this was too much to throw at her father.

She reaches for his hand, and gently squeezes it. “It sounds crazy. I sound crazy. Trust me, I know…”

“But how did it happen? How do you -”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I don’t know if I dreamed it all, or if I am dreaming now… I keep expecting to wake up any moment now… But at the same time, if it is happening for a reason, I wanted us to have another chance… I needed to fix this… even if it changes the course of everything else.”

He stared at her for a moment, and her lips rolled inside her mouth.

“You don’t have to believe me, dad.”

“I believe you.”

From that day on, the Foredales’ lives took an unexpected turn.

When Elizabeth went back home to Rio de Janeiro at the end of the month, Vincent accompanied her. At the airport, Maria was surprised to see him. For the first time in years, they talked. Frankly. It wasn’t pretty to watch, and Elizabeth actively tried not to listen to them talking in her mother’s room.

They stayed there for hours, revisiting painful memories and broken promises. However, in the end, they reconciled and decided to give themselves a second chance.

Surprising everyone, the Earl of Edgewater took a licence from Parliament, and convinced Maria to move to London to seek a better treatment plan. The news rekindled the paparazzi’s interest, and they followed the couple and their daughter everywhere. Her disease become known to the public while they visited many doctors.

This time, the Earl stayed by Maria’s side at the hospital and Elizabeth could not hide her happiness while both took turns watching over her mother.

With every passing day, she was certain she did the right thing.

By the end of the year, the Earl and Henrietta were divorced. And during the process, and the scandals that followed, it took a few weeks and a lot of Vincent’s patience for Harry to speak to him again.

Three months later, the Earl married Maria at the chapel at Edgewater in a small private ceremony, that only Elizabeth, Edmund, Harry and Lady Dominique witnessed. Maria had just left the hospital after a surgery, and the long sleeves of her dress covered the IV marks, but nothing – not even the tears rolling down her cheeks – could conceal the joy overflowing her heart.

And Elizabeth knew it was worth it.

“Fuck the butterfly effect,” she muttered under her breath outside the chapel, breaking her rule of not swearing, and lady grandmother chided her for being ill-mannered.

The months went by, and her days had fewer dèja vu. She still talked to her friends at Brazil, and video called them, but she settled on her new routine and slowly made new friends.

During the celebration of Easter in 2014, the Parsons were amongst the families invited to lunch at Edgewater, and Elizabeth and Annabelle finally met.

“Annabelle! It’s so good to see you,” Elizabeth blurted out when Harry introduced them, and their eyes widened at the effusiveness of the usually shy teenager.

“That’s the first time someone gets so excited to meet me,” the other girl laughed, sharing a knowing look with Harry, who rolled his eyes.

“My sister was not properly socialized,” Harry teased, “and she does not know how to interact with people.”

Elizabeth slapped Harry playfully, and addressed Annabelle. “Sorry. But Harry talks so much about you that it just seems like we are already friends…”

“I’m not complaining, Elizabeth.”

They shook hands, sealing the beginning of their good friendship, and the trio was inseparable ever since, despite Harry’s initial disapproval on sharing his friend.

With time, Elizabeth and Annabelle grew even closer.

For the second time, instead of Oxford, Elizabeth chose to stay close to her mother at London and went to King’s College Law school.

Eventually they met Briar – and this time around, Elizabeth had to put an extra effort for this to happen, since her friendship with Annabelle changed a lot of things, including the habits, routines and the circle of friends Annabelle had at uni.

And since the first day, she wondered what would it take for Briar and Edmund to fall in love again.

The years passed and not a day went by without her sparing a thought - or plenty more - about Hamid, wondering where he would be or what he would be doing.

On a notebook concealed in a bottom drawer, she wrote down everything that she remembered about him and could matter someday: tales from his childhood and stories about his scars, the names of his sisters and family members, and more practical details like the probable date when he moved to London, or when he started working with her father, his mobile number and e-mail address. From time to time, she would pick it up, and read it all, afraid she could be forgetting about him.

Sometimes, when missing him was unbearable and her heart ached inside her chest, she would take a look at his Pictagram. The sight of his pictures, specially the ones with his cat Princess Leia – who she missed so much! – often made her smile. And she laughed at the jokes exchanged between him and his sisters, and even got a little jealous of the comments of some of his thousands of followers, thirsting over his physique, even though she had no right to feel that way.

One evening, while watching a movie, she was lost in her thoughts, and picked her mobile to text her mother, but ended up looking at Hamid’s profile again.

Annabelle and Briar shared a knowing look.

“Are you daydreaming about that mysterious mate again, Lizzy?”

“Excuse me?” Elizabeth was startled by the question, and when she met Briar’s stare, she tried to hide her mobile. However, the other gently pulled her wrist to take a better look at the screen.

“Hmmm… Shirtless. Sexy. I like what he has done with his hair, by the way. Why are you not liking his pictures? You definitely should!”

“No!” Elizabeth pulled the mobile away from her.

“Why not?”

“Reasons.”

“Are you ever telling who is he?” Annabelle asked from her seat where she was painting her nails.

Elizabeth sighed, and looked away before she replied. Despite hating lies, there were some truths that were not easy to handle.

“He is just… someone I knew.”

“Really? When did you meet him?” Annabelle asked surprised. “He seems a little... old.”

“Long ago. It seems like another life now...”

“When are you asking him out?”

“I’m not.”

“So, you’ll keep stalking this mysterious guy online while not dating anyone else?”

“I’m not stalking him…”

“Right…”

“And I don’t have time to date right now. Uni is already too much. And I’ll start my internship with Sinclaire soon… Too much…”

“Lots of people do both,” Annabelle said, and raised her hands in the air when Elizabeth glared at her. “I’m just saying.”

At last, August, 2016 arrived.

By her counts, by the end of the week, Hamid would already have moved to London and started working at the embassy. Just a few blocks away from the house, and she knows by heart all of his favourite places.

Anxiety chastised her nails, which were bitten to its last piece, and she started gnawing at her cuticles and only the metallic taste on her mouth made her stop.

“Sweetie,” Maria called her softly one morning, and took her hands in hers and inspected them. The concerned look she spared at her nails were less about the aesthetic or the wounded cuticles, and more about what prompted that behaviour. She knows her daughter too well to realize when something is going on. “I worry about you, Liz. You have not been eating properly and you seem so absentminded… Do you wish to talk?”

“I’m alright,” she replies, forcing a smile. Maria’s knitted brow indicated she did not believe her words. “Really, I’m just tired…”

“I’m not dying. Not right now.”

“I know,” Elizabeth smiled, and this time she meant it.

“I will not force you to speak, you know that… But if you change your mind, I��ll be here.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I’m leaving now. I’ll cycle at the park.”

“Good. Fresh air will do you good.”

Her mother kissed her on the cheek and Elizabeth felt her chest tightening.

Anytime her heart wishes the sands of time would trickle faster, rushing Hamid’s arrival, it means her mother’s time would be running out faster too.

One cannot have it all.

That morning, she cycled until the Turkish embassy’s street, and stared at the building from the corner, wondering if Hamid was there.

Almost every day she would walk by that building or by one of Hamid’s favourite places. Some days she would grab a coffee and a sweet and sit by the window at the place he first took her after they met; other times she would ask the drive to circle past the street of his flat, even though he only moved in about six months after he was at London. Illogical as it was, she asked him to do so anyways. Her eyes stared at the windows, as she remembered watching movies together, talking, laughing, eating the dinners he prepared and all they did. Her heart raced at the thought of the first I love you he professed, and she blushed at the reminiscences of their first time.

Weeks went by and there was no sign of him at London.

The tabloids barely posted anything about him lately, which was really odd considering how many articles about him there used to be, focusing on his many adventures and famous affairs with all those gorgeous women.

October, 2016

By the end of October, Elizabeth was done with waiting and wondering.

For weeks, whenever possible, she would bring Turkey or any related subject to the conversations at the house, hoping her father would eventually speak about Hamid to no avail.

Therefore, mustering all her courage, she decided on a more direct approach. Halfway to the Earl’s study, she questioned her decision.

Peeking inside, she saw her father sitting behind the imposing mahogany desk, where several piles of papers were sitting, while he typed on the computer’s keyboard.

What am I even telling him?

Growling, she pulled her knuckles away from the door before knocking and gnawed on a cuticle.

If I wait even another minute, I’ll have no more nails left. Or sanity… Sure, this can never be weirder than our previous conversation… I can be smooth…

While Elizabeth debated whether she should go inside or not, Vincent caught a glimpse of his daughter pacing in front of the door, biting on a nail.

“Eliza,” he called, “do you wish to speak to me?”

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and peeked inside. A polite smile on her lips that did not reach her eyes.

“I was curious about your work,” she said, wriggling her hands, “but if you are too busy…”

“I’m never too busy for my children. Take a seat.” He pointed at one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “There was a time you would need no invitation and just come running inside and sit on my lap.” Her father’s face brightened with the memory, and her laughter joined his.

“I must warn you, nevertheless, that it is still as boring as it used to be when you were five.”

“Eighteen-year-olds don’t share the same interests of five-year-olds…” she quipped, “There’s hope I might not sleep now.”

“That would be an improvement.”

For the next minutes, Vincent summarized the bill about medical care he was working to present at Parliament on a week’s time. Despite being proud of her father’s engagement in that subject – the knowledge and experiences acquired these past three years while accompanying Maria’s treatment certainly contributed to that dedication, she was certain –, however none of this would involve Hamid, who only ever worked with her father on commercial treaties between the United Kingdom and Turkey.

“… then Maria suggested a fundraiser to raise awareness and mother is working with her. Their many suggestions include a silent auction; but I’m still considering the options.”

“That is interesting.”

“Is it?” he remarked, noticing how her attention kept shifting to the leather covered appointment book over the desk. “What is really on your mind, my dear? You seem distracted lately…”

“It’s just… I’ve read about the issue with the immigrants and refugees, and I know Parliament will be discussing it soon…”

“That subject truly concerns me as well.”

“Do you have anything scheduled about it?”

“I have a meeting with the Prime-Minister and another one with the Italian diplomats next week.”

“Isn’t there a meeting maybe with another group of diplomats? Perhaps from Turkey?”

“Not that I am aware of.”

The disappointment on her face was unmistakable.

“Let me check if Arthur updated my schedule.” He clicked a few times, eyes scanning the screen, until he finally confirmed there was nothing scheduled with any group of Turkish diplomats, and his daughter thanked him and flashed a polite tight-lipped smile.

The man took off his glasses and placed them on the desk, while her hands occupied themselves with scattered notes that were neatly arranged in piles.

“I have not failed to notice you took a recent interest on Turkey…” he says, voice soft and an open smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes, “There were the trips to Istanbul with Annabelle. Also, the questions about foreign politics recently… Is there a special reason?”

She shook her head in reply, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“Not long ago, you would not hesitate on sharing your concerns with me... What is troubling you, my dear?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Every time you say nothing and that you are fine, it means the opposite.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this…” Her lips rolled inside her mouth, and she stirred uncomfortably in the chair before looking back at him. “…It involves a guy.”

“Oh, are you going to tell me you are dating?” His words were accompanied by an even warmer smile, clearly amused with her coyness.

“It is about someone I knew. From before.”

“I see.”

“And you knew him too. He was a diplomat. From Turkey. By this time, you would be working together on a treaty…” she replies, fidgeting with the notes she was now rearranging. “But so many things changed… I think… that maybe, this changed too… We actually met in 2018… after mamãe and…”

Reaching for her hand, he asks softly, “You love him?”

“I do,” she admits. “Well, I did. But I fear I’m in love with the idea of a person that no longer exists… Sometimes it seems I will only be able to truly breathe again when we meet…”

“Once you asked me about your mother, and told me that if I still loved her, I should act upon my feelings. Be fearless, because doubts and regrets are not the best companions in life, you said. Perhaps, this could be your turn to take your own advice.”

“But that’s different… What do I even do? We haven’t met!”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t really know… Istanbul, I think.”

“Reach out to him.”

“What would I tell him?” she sighed and her father squeezed her hand gently and smiled.

“How about hello?”

Elizabeth chuckled, then got up and circled the table.

“I’ll let you go back to work,” she says and kisses her father’s cheek. “Thanks for listening to me. And have a good night, dad.”

“You too, Eliza.”

Returning to her chambers after that conversation, Elizabeth sat at the desk and stared at her mobile. Fingers hovered over the screen, and her mind elaborated many excuses to text an unknown man. From complimenting his cat to a cute remark about one of Istanbul’s famous landmarks.

Fifteen minutes later, however, worries smothered hope and she put it away and went to bed.

Maybe tomorrow.

For the next two days, she would check Hamid’s social media frequently, hoping for news. But there were none. The last picture posted dated from five days ago and was tagged at a restaurant at Istanbul.

One morning, despite her better judgement she liked that last picture with her official and very public profile, and tried not to think about it for the next hours. A mere heart in a photo could not disturb the balance of the universe that much.

When classes were over for the day, she fished the mobile inside her bag and checked the notifications. Amongst unread texts from her mother, Annabelle and Harry, and some missed calls, one particular notification called her attention and her hand covered a gasp. In one of her last pictures, a like from Hamid. A tiny heart that caused her very real one to beat at a similar cadence of the percussionists of a samba school.

After the initial joy, doubt crawled its way and took over.

Was it intentional? Maybe he accidentally hit the button. Or was just being polite.

Just in case, she liked another one of his pictures and waited.

An hour later, a ping and another notification from him. Hamid liked another one of her pictures. Then another when she was still holding the mobile. Her finger hovered over the follow button, then she pressed it. Hamid accepted it and liked yet another picture. This time, it was a picture from her family posted long ago.

Unable to find the necessary courage, she did not message him; however, she liked two of his old photos: one of Princess Leia, and another from his family celebrating Eid.

The mobile was lying on the desk, when it vibrated with a new notification. Something new on Hamid’s stories, and she clicked on it.

I’m definitely a stalker now...

The video showed Hamid singing the chorus of Your song, one of her favourite songs of all times, and then he changed to Girl from Ipanema, which he sang during their first outing after she told him where she lived. Dumbfolded, she watched the video twice.

That’s too much of a coincidence. Maybe I should DM him…

Clicking on his picture, she started typing.

After a lot of erasing she sent her messages and quickly regretted it, watching the app indicate he was already typing.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Almost the exact same dialogue they had before. Her hands were shaking so much she had to place the mobile down. Her fingers went to her hair and she pulled it back. There was no need to retrieve the notebook; his number never slipped her mind like so many other things, like the equation to calculate the gravitational force had.

Clicking on the small camera to video call him, it rang only once before his face was occupying the entire screen. Her breath hitched at the familiar smiling face looking directly at her. The same cheek-dimpling smile that brightened her days.

“Hamid,” she breathed his name.

“Can you please say that again?”

“Are you not listening to me?”

“You don’t know how I’ve longed to hear you call my name again,” he says softly, and his smile grows impossibly wider.

“You truly remember me?” He nodded, and she took a deep breath and fought the tears pricking her eyes. “Then why didn’t you look for me?”

“I did, but I wasn’t sure you remembered me… And until not long ago, I think it was probably illegal to do so… And butterfly effect.”

There’s a lot of undistinguished noises around him, and a robotic voice speaks in Turkish.

“Where are you?”

“Airport.”

“Where are you going?”

“To meet you.” His face disappeared when he turned the mobile away to film his surroundings and the carrying case resting in the seat beside him, where an angry cat hissed at the camera. “Leia and I are on our way.”

“I cannot believe! How did you –” the words toppled, and she interrupted herself.

“You reached out and I was sure it was the sign I was waiting for. So… here I am. You know I’ll just jump at any opportunity to travel.”

“I missed you,” she sighs.

“And I you.”

“There’s so much to tell, so many questions…”

“In about five hours we’ll see each other, but I must confess that talking will not be the priority of my tongue…” he winked at the camera, and she blushed, as she always did.

“You haven’t changed.”

“How would you recognize me if I did?”

They both chuckled and a comfort silence settled between them, as if they have not spoken to each other in years. They simply stared at the screen, and there were tears clouding their eyes.

Hamid’s face tilted with a new announcement at the speaker.

“That’s my flight they’re calling.”

He raised from the seat, balancing the backpack, carrier and the mobile.

“Have a safe trip, Hamid.”

“Thank you, hayatım,” he says softly. “Get some rest, I’ll call you when I arrive at the hotel.”

“Come to my father’s house.”

“Is it a good idea?”

“I told him about you. And I want you to meet my mother.”

“Alright.”

“Hamid!”

“Yes?”

“I love you!”

He took a deep breath, his grin almost reaching his ears, and the words flowed from his tongue as melodic as music, “Seni çok seviyorum. I love you. Eu te amo. Je t’aime – I don’t think I have the time to say that in all the ways that I’ve planned, but I will when we meet.”

The screen darkens, and she lies in bed, letting the mobile fall right next to her.

No more weight in her chest, and she can breathe – she can finally breathe and relief washes over her.

Hamid is fine.

Hamid is coming.

Hamid loves her.

Before she can fight it, slumber claimed her vision and her mind.

When her eyes flutter open, the room is completely dark, and she cannot find the mobile. Stirring under the covers, she stretches her arm to continue the search until her elbow connects with something hard.

“Ouch!”

Following the painful moan, a husky sleepy voice asks, “Did you hit my nose?”

“Hamid?”

Turning around, she hits the light switch and finally can see his face. The man blinks to adjust his vision to the brightness, and Elizabeth throws herself at him. Her hands cup his face, and his eyes widened at the sight of her.

“Oh, my God! You are really here!”

The man pulls her closer with a similar sigh of relief and kisses her with so much passion that she gasps for air when they part.

“You cannot imagine the dream I had” she sighs.

“It can’t be as weird as mine…”

“Wanna bet?” she teases. “I was fourteen again. Braces and all. And mamãe and Harry were alive… And I remembered everything of my life, which was so odd, because no one else did… And all those years I didn’t know if I was dreaming and was gonna wake up or if this life was the dream… And I missed you so much and – What?”

His face scrunched, as his fingers scratched the growing stubble on his jaw.

“Is it a couples’ thing? To have similar dreams?”

“Why you ask?”

“I dreamed I woke up at my parents’ home at Istanbul six years ago and I thought I was loosing my mind… Then, I got to read about you at the tabloids, without knowing if you remembered me, which you did, but I didn’t know then… And for years I was just wondering if I would ever have the chance to meet you again… or if I had to move on with my life… And it pained me… Specially when I saw you too soon at Istanbul. I couldn’t risk saying hello, because what if I talked to you and like the butterfly causing a typhoon I just messed everything –”

“You saw me?”

“With Annabelle.”

Her jaw dropped and she couldn’t articulate words while her mouth moved.

“It was a dream, wasn’t it?”

“I guess,” he sighed and kissed her again. “What other explanation could there be?”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and a masculine voice she was not expecting to hear startled her.

“You missed breakfast, love birds! If you don’t hurry, we’ll start opening the presents without you!”

The couple looked at each other and without changing from their pajamas, they held hands and went downstairs. They did not find the owner’s voice on their way to the drawing room, where Elizabeth and Hamid were welcomed by laughter and a soft melody.

Briar and Edmund greeted the couple, and their attention returned to the gifts they were exchanging.

Standing in the center of the room holding a box with a large red bow, Lady grandmother acknowledged their presence with a glare. “I thought you would not join us,” she says without holding back the censure in her tone.

Not missing a beat, the Earl says with a smile, that crinkles the corners of his eyes, “It is Christmas morning, mother.”

“And they are here now.”

Elizabeth’s eyes search the familiar voice, finding Maria behind her father. The woman is sitting on the couch, a blanket covers her legs, but nothing can hide the joy brightening her features. Vincent hands Harry a box, then sits beside her and holds her hand. Both smile at Harry, who is focused on the wrapping paper he was tearing apart.

Elizabeth freezes in place, tears blurring her vision.

Without a second thought, letting go of Hamid’s hand, she presses forward and kneels in front of her mother.

The troubled expression intrigues the woman, who whispers in Portuguese, “Are you alright, dear?”

Without uttering a word, Elizabeth hugs her, and the woman repeats the question.

“I had a dream... maybe I’m still dreaming… I... Sorry. Are you alright, mamãe?”

“I couldn’t be happier,” Maria replies, her famous open smile curling her lips. “Was it a good dream?”

Elizabeth meets her gaze, and lets her hand gently wipe the tear that streamed down her cheek.

“Excellent.”

“Hamid, don’t you just stand over there,” Vincent calls. “Come join us.”

“Yes, please. I have a present for you too, querido[6],” Maria says and asks Elizabeth to retrieve one of the boxes from under the tree.

Hamid shared a look with Elizabeth, whose expression mixed too many emotions, and did as they told him. As he approached the trio, his mouth curved into a smile that confusion prevented from reaching his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Hamid.” Maria handed the box to the diplomat, who thanked her politely for the token. An elegant watch. “I hope it pleases you, and remind you of the things that matter.”

“I love it. Thank you very much, my lady. However, I don’t think I have bought a gift for you,” he says, sharing a questioning look at Elizabeth who shruggs. "I’m terribly sorry.”

Taking his and Elizabeth’s hands, Maria whispers, “I have everything I could ever want.”

Her words earn a smile from Vincent, and Elizabeth could not agree more. At last, they have everything that matters.

===============

Notes:

[1] Rabanada – Portuguese word – Sweet traditionally served in Brazil during the holidays, and consists of bread that, after being soaked in milk, wine or sugar syrup, is passed through eggs is fried or baked in oven, and is served sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar.

[2] Brigadeiro – Portuguese word – a Brazilian dessert made of chocolate.

[3] Meu amor – Portuguese – It’s a term of endearment and means ‘my love’.

[4] Hayatım – Turkish – a term of endearment that means ‘my life’.

[5] Mamãe - Portuguese – term of endearment that means ‘mother, mum, mummy.’

[6] Querido – Portuguese – a term of endearment that means ‘dear’.

#cfwc nerd week #desire and decorum au #prince hamid #briar daly #annabelle parsons #edmund marlcaster #earl vincent #dowager countess #prince hamid x oc #oc: elizabeth foredale #choices fanfic #minor character death

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