Hello! This is my first 'King's Speech' Fanfic. Please tred lightly.
My take on Lionel's first lesson with the Duke, later king.
When he walked into my office, I truly didn't know what to expect. Perhaps a man in arms with the regal attire. Maybe I thought Mrs. 'Johnson' was lying. But no. The Duke of York simply walked into my room, his wife seated in the lobby. I could see that he had already given up on himself. I could see the distant twinkle in his eyes, like so many who had come to see me over the years. So selfconcious. So afraid of themselves that they feel no more hope. But the boy who had greeted the royals in the hall was proof that with work, anything was possible. When he had first come to me, he had barely been able to utter a word.
I knew he wished not to be there. I could tell by the way he acted. Barely speaking ( I knew he could utter the words. He just refused for some time). Shoulders stiff. Back straight. The looks he gave. I asked if he wanted tea, and he declined. In so, I made some only for myself. Still, I was there for a job, and even if it were a duke or a common man, I would allow what was most comfortably to me. My room. My rules. I would call him by a name. "Bertie." I wouldn't have shaken, no matter hard he pressed. He tried to smoke, but I protested. I didn't like the thought of filling the lungs with smoke. "My castle. My rules." The Duke was probably not used to the likes of me, especially since I came from Australia, but what's the difference? We're all men on this planet. He said his physicians had told him it was good. I said they were idiots. He said they were knighted. I said that made them official.
I know we had started on the wrong foot. He was overly defensive of his privacy. Perhaps he thought I would sell it for something. If this was to work, he would have to be open with me and trust me. I knew that me calling the duke 'Bertie' wasn't helping. I had him try the latest thing from America, (Who thought they would be so helpful? Such am amazing piece of machinery), which resulted in him becoming all the more agitated. I knew that if he didn't think about what he was reading, and more or less focused on the words, he wouldn't stutter as much. I had him read some from Shakespeare, and cursed when he couldn't hear anything except the music. I told him that was the point, and I was to play his reciting back to him. He put the head-set back on, and spoke.
I didn't allow the look of accomplishment cross my face as he recited them back. He said the words fluidly, stubling only once or twice. He ripped the head-phones away, and said he couldn't do this. Did he not know that he had said them without his usual long pauses? The self loathing was in his eyes as he refused for me to play it back to him, to show him what he had done. He was to walk out, when I begged him to take the recording, free of charge (though I still hadn't recieven my shilling for the lesson.). He took it, and stomped from the room, probably never to come again, to only break the record when he got home.
I sighed, cursing slightly, my brewing tea all but forgotten. My only hope was for him to hear the recording.
To hear what I could help him to accomplish without the American machinery.
Like I had said, my first 'King's Speech', so a little rought.
Thanks for reading, and please review!