The day was beautiful, the sun was shining, the air was cool, and the sky was clear. It was a perfect day for a wedding.

But, all Arthur could think was how unsure he was. Things seemed to be going downhill for him. He and Francis seemed so different, how could this ever work out? And, why did Francis have to pick the date? Why this date?

April eighth. It was already a sort of anniversary for them.

Arthur sighed, already knowing he was blowing the situation way out of proportion. He could do this. He loves Francis, and Francis loves him. He's pretty sure Francis loves him. Maybe 50% sure Francis loves him.

Sighing, he picked at the silkey blue shirt while glaring at his mirror self. He and Francis were getting married, and he was going to be happy about it, damn it.

"Arthur?"

Arthur turned to see red hair and green eyes that matched his. "Allistor? What are you doing here?"

"I can't miss my little brother's wedding can I," the man's smirk widened, "And congrats on that. I suppose you weren't the one to send me and the other's invitations, huh?"

"No! Are they here too? Oh God, I can't do this, Francis you dumb ass!"

"Calm down, kid. I'm the only one who came," The Scotsman held up his hands, in a seemingly reassuring way, but Arthur only shrank back away from him.

"Oh. Uh. . . Shit, Arthur. I uh. . . forgot about all that mess." The man brought his hands back down, "I'm sorry about that. About all the things in that past too. You know how we. . . We all lost it when Mother disappeared."

Arthur took a deep breath, "It's ok, Allistor, really. I. . . I think you should go take your seat now."

The red-head nodded, heading towards the door, "Oh, and before I go. I visited the French bastard before I came to see you. He looked just as nervous as you do. Don't worry about a thing, kid."

The man left, the door closing quietly behind him. Arthur waited in silence a few moments, before a smile creeped on his face.

Francis was nervous too.


Arthur followed after Elizabeta, the woman leading him to the main room. She would look behind her every once in a while, a smile in her eyes.

"Lighten up, Arthur. It's your wedding day, you should be smiling. Look happy."

He scowled at the brunette, continuing to follow her quietly.

He began to hear the music, and took a deep breath. He was ready for this. He was. Elizabeta stopped him before he could turn the corner, fixing his hair, and straightening his shirt.

"Don't worry, Arthur. Just see him, and no one else, and you'll be fine. I promise," She smiled before pushing him towards the corner.

Arthur stepped out quickly, before he could convince himself not to. His eyes searched frantically for Francis, even though he knew where the man would be. The Frenchman stood at the altar, a smile on his face, but even Arthur could see the nervousness in his blue eyes.

The room was quiet as he walked closer to the man, but Arthur didn't pay any attention to them. A smile graced his lips as he got closer and closer, and finally made it to where the other man had his hand held out to him.

"Hello, lapin."


It was hours after the wedding had ended, and Francis had yet to stop kissing him. Arthur found himself not really caring. He and Francis had finally did it. They were married. They were going to have a happy ending.

At least, that's what he imagined.

Pushing the pouting Frenchman away, Arthur laughed, "Save it for the honeymoon, Francis. It shouldn't be that much longer."

"But, lapin, we are technically on our honeymoon now," Francis smirked, leaning in to kiss his husband again.

"Fine! Fine, Francis! Wait!" Arthur had to push the other off again, "Save it for the honeymoon room. Is that better?"

"Non."

"That's what I thought. You can keep it in your pants for another hour or so." Arthur laughed once more and intertwined his finger's with his husband's.

Watching the two blue and green gems glint off of their hands, Arthur felt happier than he had in centuries.