Marching On

The wind rushed over Lavin's face as she leaned low over her horses. Her legs nicked Rembrandt's sides sending him galloping faster up the field.

The ball was a blur as was Lavin to the spectators' and other players' eyes.

Lavin straightened her posture as she approached the ball. She readied her mallet and smashed the ball into the goal.

Screams of triumph erupted from the crowd and from her team.

The other team, Harry's team, were flabbergasted that the future queen of Denmark just raced across the field so savagely and managed to send the ball home in the first five minutes of the match.

Lavin trotted passed Harry, her mallet wistfully thrown over her shoulder, with a smug turn of her lips and the glint of competition in her eyes. She was daring him to bring his best today.

Between the second chukker and the third, Lavin switched Rembrandt out for another horse, a much younger horse.

"You better watch yourself, your highness," Number Four from Harry's team cautioned harshly as he passed her. He was nondescript, thin young man who played his defense position violently.

Lavin ignored him and pulled at her horse's reigns to direct him back to the field.

Playing Number One it was her job to cover the opposing team's Number Four. She had been doing a very good job stealing balls from him and avoiding him.

Lavin chuckled to herself at the memory of Four falling off his horse after a sharp--but legal--ride off.

Ben, playing Number Two, pulled up alongside her. "Be careful. Fitzgerald," he said, nodding towards Four, "isn't a very good loser."

The game continued:

The ball was smashed up the field once again and the players stampeded in its wake.

Lavin took the lead.

"I'll get it first!" Harry, playing One for his team, called out just behind her.

"Not a chance!" she shouted back.

Another set of hoofs were close to Lavin; she looked to her right and saw Four gaining. "Not a bloody chance, you wanker," she whispered to herself, forcing her horse faster.

She prepared her mallet.

Four was keeping pace.

Lavin whacked the ball, driving it farther up the field. She watched as Alex, playing Three, ran to meet it.

Then, quite suddenly, her arm was flattened against her side and her mallet was pressed against her horse, tangling with its legs. The horse's legs buckled and fell into Four's horse, sending Lavin sideways into Four himself. Both horses toppled to the ground while Lavin and Four were thrown off.

Far away she heard a woman scream that sounded like her mother. She hit the short-cut grass and rolled to a stop; she heard the earth rumble as the rest of the players tried to separate to avoiding trampling them.

She close her eyes as she felt the cool grass against her cheek as she lay on the field assessing her damage. Her ribs hurt a bit, but nothing felt broken.

Then she heard more terrified gasps come from behind her.

Was Four worse off than she was? Did someone else crash in their hurry to dodge them?

She pushed herself up and saw the pale thoroughbred of Harry's hurdling closer and closer. Lavin could see the panicked look on Harry's face as the horse showed no signs of slowing; they were too close now to turn safely.

"Down!" Harry bellowed.

Lavin flattened out immediately, gripping the strands of grass with all her might. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited to feel the sharp hoofs in her back.

But she felt nothing. She did feel the atmosphere change and the crowd's collective sigh of relief.

Lavin popped her eyes open to see Harry's horse on the other side of her. It had jumped clear over her.

Alex appeared at her side. "Are you all right?"

Lavin rested on her knees, noticing that her entire front was covered with grass stains. "Yeah."

"Think you can stand up?"

She nodded her head and took her brother's hand. Alex pulled Lavin to her feet just in time to see Harry jump from his horse; he threw his mallet violently to the ground. It ricocheted and spun through air until it landed with a soft thump.

He stalked over towards Four with rage coloring his face. But Ben had beaten him to it; his hands already wrapped around Four's collar.

Lavin was surprised it wasn't his neck.

"You fucking twat!" Ben shouted, shaking Four.

Four pounded his fists against Ben's chest, attempting to push his aggressor off him. "She wanted to play on a man's team she will get treated like one!"

Ben shoved Four away. "It's a bleedin' charity match for Christ's sake."

Harry was behind Ben now, body shaking with adrenaline.

Quickly, Lavin hurried over. "Stop this," she shouted, pushing her brother and Four apart.

She turned her back to Ben and extended her hand towards Four. Four's face fell into a bewildered look; she urged him encouragingly and he slowly shook her hand.

"Despite your recklessness and utter disobedience to the rules I want to thank you for acting like I was just another player."

Four narrowed his eyes. "Anytime, sweetheart."

"You're out for the rest of the match," Harry instructed harshly. "Don't expect to be invited to play for my charity again."

Lavin watched Four's retreating back when Ben, whose breath was still agitated, stood beside her. "You're mad, Lav. Mum and Dad are never going to let you play again."

"Whatever. I love it when a player takes a risk against someone like us, Ben. It's refreshing to not be treated like a delicate flower."

Alex laughed. "You're no delicate flower."

Harry rushed to her, grabbing her arms gently. "Are you hurt? Is anything broken? I'm gonna murder that bastard!"

His eyes were inspecting every inch of her.

"I'm okay, Harry. Please don't dote over me."

"Are you going to play the rest of the game?" Alex asked.

"I'd rather you not," Harry told her.

Lavin shook him off her. "I am going to finish this game."

The atmosphere shifted towards a less competitive after halftime concluded. No one from Harry's team dared to go near Lavin making it an easy victory for the Danish team.
___

Ben and Alex hoisted Lavin into air by their shoulders while she held the trophy high in her arms. The flashes of hundreds of cameras were lighting up the small stage where her team stood alongside Harry's.

Amidst the flashes and the polite clapping she found the faces of her family jeering wildly and grinning from ear-to-ear. Her family finally seemed as though they were getting back to normal.

The photographer's demanded a different pose from the three royal siblings. Lavin, once back on her feet stood between her younger brothers as they towered over her, all smiling.

Her grandparents were cheering as if they were children seeing their first professional football game.

"Do you see Grandma and Grandpa?" she asked.

"Yeah," they answered.

Lavin squinted passed the flashes to see her family again. Her grandparents backs were to them and her father was gripping onto her mother's shoulder, pain lining his mouth and forehead.

Temperance's attention was solely on Fredrick now. Lavin could read her lips, "Are you all right, Darling?"

"I'm not sure," Fred's lips read.

Then, very suddenly, Fred dropped.

"Dad!?" Lavin's voice tore out of her throat.

"What?" Ben looked at her.

"Dad's collapsed or something. Come on!"

And with that she tore off the stage, letting the trophy drop and clatter noisily to the stage floor.