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Pen Pals	By : billspirit Category: Individual Celebrities > Prince Harry Views: 2494 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Prince Harry or any of the Royal family, this is purely a work of fiction and I do not make money from it.

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Pen Pals

**The truth will out***

Katie smiled as she watched her son bring in the huge horse, Tam. He followed along at the end of the lead rope, occasionally ruffling the boy’s hair with his muzzle. She took the lead rope and led the horse into the stable.

“Can I give him his tea Mum?” the boy asked

“Of course, it’s all ready, let me just change his rug” she replied “You had better feed Bar as well” she smiled as she indicated the sheep at the gate, making a racket as his friend was taken into the stable, leaving the sheep to look forlorn at the gate, waiting for his own tea.

She loved these evening rituals, collecting her son, giving him his dinner and then both of them seeing to the animals. Later, once he was in bed she would go online, talk to her soldier friend. She almost laughed as she remembered how she had caught him out. Trying to tell her he was none other than Prince Harry indeed! Selaw, reversed was Wales, and he said his name was Harry. Harry Wales. Right. Of course he was. She suspected that it was a game, bit of a laugh to him, maybe he was serving with him, but she was sure there was a law somewhere that prevented someone impersonating the third in line to the throne! The letter he had sent had made her laugh outright, bit sad when Princess Diana died? He’d have been slightly more than that was he her son. And why would Prince Harry want to talk to someone online, surely security prevented that? She couldn’t believe that she was even contemplating it, it was ridiculous!

Harry sat miserably on the plane. He had spoken to the palace, they had decided that maybe it was for the best that he returned. I can’t win, he fumed to himself. No matter what he did. He went on active service and his OWN country betrayed him, yet they all sat there, shouting their mouths off that the Royal Family were good for nothing! Yes he’d done some pretty daft things in the past, not always thought through, and now he was older he could see that it was the inexperience of youth. He was young, he made mistakes. He was a Royal, not a God! He slouched his way to his apartment. Over there he was ‘one of the lads’, Harry or Wales or whatever nickname they thought up. He got no favours, if there was a bullet with his name on then it would hit him, being the Queen’s grandson didn’t make his skin impenetrable! Here he was Prince Henry, Prince Harry, HRH, Sir, William’s brother, Charles’s Son, third in line to the throne, Queen of Hearts youngest son, Diana’s boy. So much baggage, none of it his.

He sighed as the people employed scurried around him, watching them he resented them without knowing why. He wanted to be with his mates, people who treated him as an equal, not put him on some pedestal without asking and treated him with reverence. He closed the world off, retreating to a shower and his bedroom. Snarling that he had dodged the Taliban, he could bloody well make himself some toast, to the poor girl charged with asking Sir if he wished to dine.

Harry flung himself on the sofa, he picked up the silver tray, going through the post that was deemed suitable for him to open himself by the powers that be. He rubbed his arm, the fall from the polo pony that morning had hurt. It was his own fault he reflected.
He had gone after William with such anger and venom, the pony under him had responded gamely, throwing her weight onto William’s pony, knocking them all sideways. William’s excellent balance and long legs had saved him from falling, Harry, already far out of the saddle with reaching for an impossible ball, had crashed to the ground, only just letting go of the brave little pony in time to prevent her landing on him. He had grabbed the pony and stormed from the practice field, ignoring his brother, who at first balled him out for being so irresponsible, and then softer, asking what was wrong, could he help? No thought Harry, no one can. He wanted to get drunk and wake up a normal person, whatever that was.

He opened the battered envelope, it looked like it had been halfway around the world, and it had. It was from Katie, she had written back, he had completely forgotten about her. Caught up in Royal Duties and his own demons he had forgotten the comfort that she had brought, knowing him only by what he chose to tell her. Guilt flickered across him as he read the letter, she had no idea that he was who he was, she had no idea of the attention they would both receive should this leak out. He had put her in the firing line and she didn’t even know. He was used to media attention, sometimes he quite liked it, she had no clue what she was involved in. He read on knowing that to reply would be stupid and was not an option, still he wanted to talk to her, to be the person he wanted to be.

****Dear Harry,
Or should I call you HRH? Really that’s a mean trick! Funny but mean! I’m sure there must be a law against you impersonating him! I hope you are well, we are fine. I need to clip Tam, he’s a woolly bear! But I don’t ride him so much so I don’t know. I’m off work in a few weeks, two whole weeks paid leave! I can hardly wait! You must be coming up for leave soon? I don’t know how these things work, but if you were it might be nice to finally meet you in person. Providing that your Royal engagements allow (really! I’m daft but not that daft!), ******

Harry smiled to himself, little did she know. He allowed himself a few minutes of fantasy, seeing her face change to shock as she opened a door unknown to him, talking to her, making her understand that she was the only person who had ever liked him without knowing his status. That she made him laugh, that he really wanted to get to know her as a person, in person, not via letter. Nothing romantic, just a friend he could trust. Like the children in Africa that he adored, yes, they knew who he was but it didn’t have any affect on them, he was just Harry to them, their white friend who helped them.

She had added her mobile number in the letter, he agonised. He could keep up the pretence. Saying that he was home, but make some excuse not to meet. Talk to her, hear the amusement in her voice as she chided him for pretending to be who he really was. He lost the battle as he added her to the contacts on his phone. He tried to call, but hit the cancel button before the call could connect. What was he thinking?
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