A/N: Happy New Year!

Don't ask me where this has come from. I just had the idea and – here we are. It can be seen as a companion piece to the other Royals fic I've done about Eleanor – rubik's cube. This is Jasper's side.

I'm loving The Royals at the moment. Jasper and Eleanor absolutely make the show: their interactions are brilliant and the show is really using it. I am gutted there's only ten episodes per season, but this season has been a lot better then the first one (in my opinion). I can't wait to see the progression of Eleanor and Jasper's relationship.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story.

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own The Royals or any of the characters; I do not own any quotes or lyrics used in this fic

out of all these things I've done, think I love you better now

"I love everything about her – and I'm not a guy who says that lightly; I'm a guy that has faked love his entire life. I thought love was just something idiots thought they felt, but this woman has a hold over my heart that I could not break if I wanted to.

"And there have been times that I wanted to.

"It has been overwhelming and humbling, and even painful at times – but I could not stop loving her any more than I could stop breathing. I'm hopelessly, irretrievably in love with her.

More than she knows."

Barney to Nick about Robin, How I Met Your Mother 8x06 "Splitsville"

He has no home.

Hasn't had one for years. Forget his parents, the couple who con money out of tourist and pick their pockets, stake all their money on cards and get high whether they win or lose. They aren't anything. His home burnt to the ground, both literally and fugitively.

The ache is always there.

It's particularly painful when he sees Eleanor and Liam together. Not just because Liam brings out a different side to Eleanor that rarely sees the light of day; but because they adore each other, they are each other's saving grace.

Because he had that, once.

Lucy was a beautiful child.

High cheekbones scattered with freckles. Powerful dark eyes. Pale skin. People in Vegas would look at him warily, but everyone loved Lucy on sight (something that his parents milked constantly). Only two years younger than him and twice as naive.

When they were little they would play a game with a tiny globe they had: they would spin it and one of them (usually Lucy) would close their eyes and put their finger on it. Wherever their finger landed they were going to move there. They would imagine their lives in another country. He always wanted to go to Australia. He liked the distance, the idea of having Christmas on a beach. It was a new world. He would be able to leave everything here behind.

Lucy was the one that wanted to go to England.

His life is just one big mind-fuck.

Her ghost is always with him.

Sometimes he can feel her when he wakes up. Other times he swears he hears her laugh. She even appears right in front of him now and again. Not as a little girl, not even the age she died. He pictures her as a girl in her teens (though if she had lived she would now be in her twenties). She's wearing demin shorts and a skimpy pink top, sunglasses pushing her hair off her face.

Her smile makes him smile, even if it's the ghost of one.

He's never loved anyone.

Sure, he's fucked girls. Never loved.

Samantha was good for him. Another nomad, a person who wanted to forget her past. He didn't love her but he sorta trusted her – and to him that was practically love. He knew she would always remember the con. He could trust her to deliver an outstanding performance.

Perhaps back then he thought it was love. Or the only love he would ever have.

(Except he knows it wasn't.

He saw love when he was sixteen. A couple walked past him on the street, arguing like most people. They were in their later fifties, maybe early sixties. The woman had just hurled an insult at him when he pulled her towards him. Jasper, he was expecting a threat or a hit – like his father and mother. But he said don't ever leave me woman. If you stop insulting me my whole world would crumble. And he saw the woman's face when he said that – how her eyes lit up.

That's love.)

He's known he was born broken. He assumed he was exempt from love.

But –

Eleanor.

He realises he loves her after her father dies.

He walks through the cold streets of London, slipping notes into the hands of the homeless and ignoring their thanks; his mind is on her. He wonders if he'll ever see her again.

And it hits him so hard he has to gasp for breath. Because all he can think is that London, the palace - Eleanor has become his home. A place that he wants to go back to. The place he yearns for.

Eleanor is. Fuck the palace, fuck London. They could be in the rainforest, in the streets of Bangkok or the slums of India and it wouldn't matter. It would be home to him as long as she was there.

That when she collapsed sobbing in Liam's arms he wanted to cling to her. He wanted to tuck her in bed and whisper to her, I had a sister once, and she was my whole world. And then she died and took the best part of me with her.

And sometimes when he's half-asleep he thinks he would actually have the guts to say: and you scare the hell outta me, because you're bringing the real me back. And that's someone who feels, who cares. That's someone I don't really know.

"Tell her that, yeah this might have been the original reason you came here but, once you got here and you got to know her, you fell in love with her and literally nothing else matters because you will give up everything just for a second chance with her."

He only realises what he's said when he sees the shock on Samantha's face (she hides it well but he knows her).

And it hits him again.

He couldn't leave this place now, even if he wanted to. Even if it means he goes to jail.

He's been through worse.

His sister died in the first house they ever had, when he was fifteen. She was only thirteen, just.

Their parents were downstairs with friends, drinking and getting high and God knows what. He had been asleep. Then he was awake because it was so hot, and smoke was itching down his throat. The entire place was in flames. Smoke was ballooning through the bottom of the door but there were no flames there, not yet. He climbed out the window.

His mother and father and all their friends – they escaped. Lucy didn't.

He doesn't remember being told she was dead. He remembers punching his dad to the ground, hitting his face again and again, screaming. The worst thing was when he stopped: he looked at his father and saw his eyes were glassy. He was as high as a kite.

He ran then. Left everything behind and ran.

He was homeless for two years. It was then he started pick pocketing and conning people. Realised he had a knack for it and – he had to survive. Who cared how?

(He's never told anyone about his sister. Has never wanted to until now.)

He should have gotten her out. He was her big brother. She was his responsibility.

Déjà vu.

It's not the same but seeing Eleanor lying in the bumper car staring into nothing – it feels an awful lot like that night Lucy died. He's losing her, like he lost his sister. This time he might not be able to survive.

(He will love her even if she never loves him – though she did once.

He knows this because he followed her round the world for no other reason than to keep her safe; he stayed even when she danced and flirted and had sex with Beck.

He's in love with her.

More than she knows.)

A/N: Just a few notes:

1) The title of the fic is from Ed Sheeran's song Lego House. Don't ask me why but the lyrics just came to me while I was writing this.

2) Now, the quote. THE QUOTE. I love Barney's quote. It's one of my all-time favourites and have been waiting for the perfect fic to use it with. Since Jasper's speech about Eleanor in 2x06 (!) was so beautiful I thought I might as well add another beautiful speech.

3) I kinda wanted to flesh out Jasper's backstory a little. I would love to find out more about him and his childhood. Hopefully the show will give us more detail.

Once again thanks for reading!

Hours to make. Seconds to comment.

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