Hello Again, my Honeys.

I apologize that I've switched out fandom's so fast. I've decided to explore my deepest love indefinitely. This piece was inspired by the As above, so below series by concernedlily on A03. I simply adore the concept of Eggsy as Arthur, it opens such a vast and complex idea on the inner workings of Kingsman. I always enjoyed writing dark psychological and political pieces and this was simply a must write.

I'm endeavouring to update once every 2 weeks with a new chapter, since I'm usually so busy and my writing in very intensive. It takes days to sculpt it into what it is.

Pairing: Galahad||Harry Hart x Arthur||Eggsy Unwin

Please note that warnings include: M/M Lemons, Slow Burn, Plot Heavy, Power Play Elements, Dark Violence, Psychological Aspects, Amnesia, Gore and Grief/Mourning.

I really hope that I can write this into a more satisfying and intense counter to the Golden Circle ending, hehe. Please enjoy the prologue so long.

Prologue: Upon His Ashes

Time was a saccharine poison, a silver-tongued, bittersweet benediction that mounted countless unspoken fears upon a delicately curved brow. White trainer-clad feet were drumming a familiar, fast-paced, rhythm across London's complex street grid as lithe muscles propelled a willing body across rain drenched pavements, leaping atop low-slung apartment walls and scaling impossibly tall fences.

Gary "Eggsy" Unwin was resolutely determined to outrun the ghosts haunting his very steps that morning; the shining brilliance of a slow breaking dawn mercilessly shattering the deep quiet settled across his mind. The last vestiges of drizzling rain was hanging like polished diamonds from the downy tips of burnished copper locks.

The familiar weight of Kingsman issue glasses, slipping precariously down the slope of a perfectly straight nose; straightened out a second later as the twenty-five-year-old reached up to resituate them back in place. The early morning fog was already swallowing up a large portion of the capital's notorious jagged skyline; the usual screech and bustle of a listless Saturday night quietening down to a more manageable level.

Quietly drawn in breaths were misting silver-white between luscious petal pink lips, viridian green eyes sharpening with calculated caution as an unexpected and looming shadow crossed his path a few meters ahead. When Eggsy took notice of the small dog trailing devotedly behind its owner, it became clear the two were merely out for a morning walk.

A soft greeting was soon tugging up the corners of his lips, a cheeky wink accompanying the whispered 'mornin'' as he skilfully weaved through touching shadows and leaped across a tightly drawn dog leash. His chaotically swirling thoughts were already returning to that deafening drone in the back of his mind, his body lazily cataloguing the steady thrum of blood in his veins and the rising exhilaration that skittered like electricity across his skin.

There was no pain quite yet, no burning need to oxygenate his lungs. It would take a fair bit more to tire him out. The intensive training Kingsman recruits endured was far more strenuous than a lazy Sunday morning run. Yet, Eggsy still hoped the exercise would drown out the numb melancholy encircling his soul. It was a daily struggle to forget, these days. To push aside that split second of terror that had carved a hole through his very soul and reverberated with lethality only a single gunshot can induce—.

'Oh, fer feck's sake, lad.' A startlingly loud Scottish brogue suddenly rumbled in his ear. 'Do yeh have to break security protocol at five in the feckin' morning?' A distinguished note of irritation was already curling possessively through the Scotsman's burr, almost as if he had not expected a fully trained agent to slip passed the cameras and guards set up around Stanhope Mews. It was a fact that startled a delighted laugh from the back of Eggsy's throat. Merlin really should have known better by now.

'Really, Merlin?' He teased cheekily. 'A good monrin' to y' too, bruv.' His own South London accent was thickening with delight, a quiet chuckle echoing through the morning air as he received an exasperated snarl in return for his response. A call like this was usually expected around eight in the morning, when Merlin had had the chance to check through the monitors in his office. However, since it wasn't the first time Eggsy had disappeared from his home without a word, it did not come as a complete surprise.

'Have a good rest yet, guv?' He continued without stopping. 'Burnin' through the midnight oil? I thought today was me day off, yours too. It's fuckin' Sunday, after all.' There was a regretful sigh tickling the shell of his ear, a soft but urgent argument echoing in the background of the feed as the heavy clink of a porcelain mug distracted any intentions he had of listening in.

'I know, lad. I'm sorry.' Came the quietly murmured apology, the softer but more serious tone threading through the handler's voice causing the younger agent's footsteps to stall. The pavement was still bitterly wet beneath trainer-clad feet, a sigh of resignation spilling irritably passed parted lips as the twenty-five-year-old tilted his head to glare at the lightening sky above.

It was going to be pissing soon, he thought to himself. How utterly charming, even the weather reflected his current shit mood.

'Right. What do you need, Merlin?' Perfectly clipped consonants were rolling smoothly from the tip of a pink tongue, a distinctive cockney accent melting away to something smoother and more professional as the twenty-five-year-old turned on his heel and headed back the way he came. A morning that started out like this never ended well, especially when it was supposed to be the first day in over four months he had off.

'We need yeh to come in, Arthur.' Merlin responded swiftly. 'There's been a security breech at HQ. One of the Bors candidates have gotten a little too chummy with an R & D Engineer. I've been tracking the information he has been wheedling from our system since his arrival a week ago.'

'Last night, a failsafe was triggered in Berlin. I've been alerted this morning he was the one attempting to make the sell.'

'Well fuck,' Eggsy swore colourfully. 'Please tell me you have the information contained, Merlin.' A security breech in a top secret spy organization; operating at the highest level of discretion, was possibly one of the worst disasters to wake up to on a Sunday morning.

'I want Camelot locked down for the next twenty-four hours,' He instructed carefully. 'Can y' disconnect the tube after my arrival and silence the shop for as long as we need?' The lazy morning Eggsy had been hoping to spend in Harry's home, quietly resting the ache in his soul and drinking away the bitter tears that clung to his lashes after weeks of too little sleep and too much frustration, had just run through his fingertips like ash.

'Aye, the information has already been contained, Arthur.' Merlin confirmed with an irate growl, almost as if he had mistaken Eggsy's concern for incompetence. 'The candidates currently do not know anything is amiss, they are carrying on as normal with unseen guards and cameras following their every move.'
'The final judgement will fall on the Table, however. Even as a mere formality. I have already assembled the Knights, lad, so get a move on. Final lockdown cannot be delayed beyond 06:30 GMT.'

Nodding his understanding at the clipped order, viridian green eyes finally glanced down at the elegant Bremont encircling his wrist as the weight of the world suddenly descended upon his shoulders. Shit, there was only ten minutes left for him to make it home, another forty to get presentable, return to the shop and then use the last half hour for the bullet train.

It was going to be cutting it fucking close.

'Thanks, Merlin.' He breathed softly, hoping the softly spoken words would be enough to appease the older man's simmering irritation as he treaded a much quicker path home. Now that his mind had been jolted into forced wakefulness, Eggsy could only reel internally at what would be faced at the Table today.
A deep scowl was settled firmly between perfectly shaped brows, petal pink lips pulling down into a delicate frown as the slide of comfortable black track pants and a zip up hoodie did little to soothe away his returning anxiety.

'Aye. Keep yer eyes and ears open too, Arthur. I like to think I don't miss much, but I am not omnipotent.' That startled a small laugh from Eggsy's lips, he was pretty sure that almost everyone in the organization saw Merlin as an omnipotent tech-wizard.

'Arthur, out.' Signing off with the press of a small button at the side of his glasses, the right lens flashed briefly with a list of important calls and messages still waiting to be answered as a quick flick of long lashes and roving pupils silenced them with a short, simultaneous, message:

"Camelot: ETA, 6:20"

Fuck, wasn't this just a lovely way to start Sunday?

...

The resounding hiss of humid steam was gleefully escaping a newly opened shower door, the steady drip, drip, drip of a shut off shower head echoing dully throughout the extravagant en suite as stray drops of water contoured to a perfectly sculpted back. Newly invigorated limbs were gliding silently across the cold tile floor, the youthful King hurrying towards the master bedroom as ever passing time dictated a more urgent haste.

A fluffy white towel, draped sensually around a thinly tapered waist, tumbled carelessly to the floor as silk pants and charcoal grey, pinstriped, trousers soon concealed warm flesh from sight. A crisp white shirt soon followed, the tails tucked neatly into his waistband as Eggsy briefly considered the dark blue silk tie laid out on the bed.

It was not his own…

Reverent fingertips were trailing softly across the slippery fabric, viridian eyes burning painfully with the reminder of its owner as shaky movements smoothed the silk into place beneath his collar. It felt like a lifetime ago that Harry Hart had sat him down in front of this very same mirror, teasing fingers brushing against the back of his protégé's nape every now and then as he taught him several different ways to knot a tie.

And now, all Eggsy could recall was the honeyed warmth that had spread through whiskey brown eyes whenever their gaze collided in the looking glass and the slow hint of a smirk that had tickled the edges of the older agent's mouth—.

Fuck! Swallowing down the sudden spike of anguish that lanced through his heart, Eggsy swiftly pushed aside the erratic flow of his thoughts as the snap of gold cufflinks brought forth a new wave of urgency. The smooth glide of a perfectly tailored double-breasted jacket, coming to rest across broad shoulders, conformed bodily to every inch of his short, stocky, frame.

Pinstriped fabric, bulletproof and deadly, completed the defensive ensemble as steady hands eventually reached for the weapons laying on the vanity before him. Two dual barrelled pistols; a comforting weight against the palm of his hands, slipped seamlessly into the black leather holsters tailor-made to fit the small of his back as elegant fingertips slid on a pair of Kingsman issue glasses.

Glimmering russet gold locks, impeccably parted with a layer of sweet smelling pomade, richly accented the aroma of expensive cologne as black Oxfords, polished to a high sheen, hurried down the steps two at a time. Haunted viridian green eyes still refused to glance towards the sunset office sealed away from sight, it was the one room in the house that still retained bitter memories.

When the ivory face of his Bremont watch read five-forty-eight a.m., the patter of excitable puppy paws greeted its master by the front door. Large brown eyes were staring up at Eggsy expectantly, the pleading adoration in the pug's face shattering the young agent's resolve as J.B twirled in excitable circles on the floor. He was groaning and huffing with delight, preening with wriggling tail and snuffling sneezes as his master leaned down to lavish him with morning pets.

'Sorry luv,' Eggsy cooed apologetically, manicured nails scratching up and down the pug's silky fur. 'I can't take y' in today, there's some trouble in the office.' Eventually shooing away his companion before it could get any later, Arthur reached for the last and most important piece of his weapons cache.

Indolent fingers were curling expectantly around the handle of a well-used Rainmaker, the handle hooking over the crook of his elbow as a familiar spark of adrenalin swirled the scent of his mentor, mixed with blood and gunpowder, across the tip of his nose. It was almost as if the essence of Harry Hart was embedded in the trundled fabric, waiting patiently to explode outwards the moment the umbrella was opened for combat.

Only, there was no more time to indulge himself in bitter recollection. The front door was slamming shut behind him with a heavy finality, an automatic lock sliding into place as the careful veneer Eggsy built over the last year and a half as Arthur, trickled in suave waves over his form. There was an oppressive hardness reflected in viridian green eyes, the striking irises flickering blue-green-blue with sharpened determination as a sinuous gait and careful confidence carried him steadily towards the shop.

Saville Row was like a silent mausoleum in the early morning dawn, a low rumble of thunder reflecting the synchronicity of the world's fast souring mood as powerfully compact muscles moved with a natural, carnal, grace. An easily adaptable poise was lending the young agent a razor edge of carefully contained death, his body carrying forth with straight shouldered dignity as the seamless glide of polished Oxfords and a swaying umbrella accentuated the deadly darkness enfolded beneath his skin.

It was difficult to believe the hell he had clawed his way up from two years ago, his blundering past then as much a part of his charm as the gentleman he was now. Harry had been the only one that had looked passed the prickly outside he had fashioned to protect himself. He had seen the potential Eggsy possessed inside of him, the deep loyalty stitched into his soul and the compassion weaved through his heart. It was the reason Galahad had made the effort to draw it out of the boy, to build him up with tender words and a firm hand.

And then the world went to shit…

Now all Eggsy was left with was the pain of Harry's disappointment, the unstable guilt he felt for spewing words of hate in fit of temper and leaden regrets he could never take back. It was—

'Good morning, Sir.' A voice suddenly interrupted his melancholy, the cautious eyes of Dagonet greeting him from over the shop counter as a shocked palm let go of the brass handle he had not even realized he had opened. Kingsman Tailors was a gloomy abyss in the darkness, the artistic lighting having been dimmed for safety reasons as the doors clicked shut behind him with an automatic snick.

They were approaching final lockdown.

'Morning.' He returned with a strained smile, the older man sure to notice the dark marks poorly concealed behind the black frames of his glasses. Eggsy was already strung out with exhaustion, even if the day had barely started and his problems only just surfaced. He was standing tall under the tailor's knowing scrutiny however, the small tip of the older man's head encouraging him towards fitting room one as he gathered the last of his energy reserves around him like a cloak.

'I'll be leaving Avalon in your care, Dagonet. Please look after her.' With that, the door swung shut behind him with swift finality. A brief ping resounded from his glasses, letting him know that Merlin had sealed off all the previous escape routes and forwarded a list of encrypted passwords to the corner of his right lens before they flickered away.

The thirty minute journey to Camelot was punctuated only by the Scotsman's distinctive burr, his deep baritone filling Eggsy in on the more important details of the situation as he was lulled into a calmer and more relaxed state. His head was lolling back against the plush tartan seat, Harry's black Rainmaker coming to rest across his knees as viridian green eyes slipped shut for a precious few seconds of silence.

Fuck, he really hoped his fingers were light enough to swipe Merlin's perpetual mug of tea right from under his nose that morning. The handler always brewed his concoctions poisonously strong, like a guaranteed caffeine high for seventy-two hour workdays. Fuck, but could the man make tea—.

'I see yer only half with us, Arthur.' An amused brogue rumbled abruptly, a cheeky smile greeting the older man as he stood on the other side of the office with heavily tensed shoulders and a stern expression marring his features.

Right, security breech.

'Hey, Merlin.' He greeted jovially, a reassuring squeeze to the tech-wizard's shoulder unknowingly relieving the handler of his precious mug of tea as the young king swayed passed him with the steaming rim already pressed against his lips. 'Fuck that's good.' He swore after a heady sip or two, briefly catching Merlin's tensing fingers on his state-of-the-art clipboard as sharp hazel brown eyes narrowed in response to his cheek.

'Y've got to teach me how to make this shit.' He purred pleasantly, pretending not to see the amused twitch of lips that ruined the handler's usually stoic expression as he made no move to reclaim his tea or scold the agent for his actions.

'Hmm.' Was Eggsy's only response, a splayed hand ushering him towards the open conference room as a large mahogany table came into view. It was already filled for the meeting, two agents actively present and seven others glimmering in the greenish hue of holographic projections. At the head of the table, before a throne-like chair, an innocent looking black folder laid in wait.

Eggsy knew exactly what that meant, the gold tassel cord was concealing several documents meant for his eyes only. A reluctant sigh was slipping passed petal pink lips, alerting him to the fact that there was no escape. The Kingsman already knew what this meant, they expected it. And in less that twenty-four hours there would be several body bags of a family in the morgue and another layer of blood on his hands.

'Right, let's get this started then, gentlemen and lady.'

Steepled fingertips were folded neatly atop smoothly polished wood, dark green eyes surveying the various expressions of stoic reserve and anger reflected back at him as his clipped cadence evened out to a more professional tone. Kingsman did not harbour traitors, they did not show mercy nor did they ever forget the horrors the previous king had instilled upon them. Sworn secrecy was entwined with their every breath, there was no middle ground.

Time was, as always, poisonous. A silver-tongued, bittersweet benediction. And King Arthur wielded it like a weapon.

Thank you so much, I'll see you with a new update in a week or so...depending on how quickly I can write it. Hehe, the fight scene with Charlie; it's going to take some time to write out perfectly. Hehe, it was one of my favourite parts of the movie.

Please leave me a little review, I'd really appreciate it.

Yours Always

Chocolate Carnival