Hey guys, I know, first Author's note in a loooonnnggg time! But I would just like to shout out everyone who has followed me so far, and of course to you really kind reviewers. Thanks for nearly 50 followers! Been over a year now, and it's hilarious how I thought I could make this a ten chapter fic!

Anyway, back to the story...

Arthur's POV...

2 days later...

The dinner was a huge success, now that he was looking back. Since then, he, Chancy and the ladies were inseparable, doing almost everything together. Currently they were having a picnic in the courtyard as their mates trained in their armor. Arthur tried his hardest to ignore the sound of clashing metal as he held on to a squirming Geoffrey, who wanted to play with his hair. Eventually he gave in, allowing the infant to do as he pleased, sighing as his hair was yanked. Mary, whose hair was in tight neat curls, sucked her teeth.

"This reminds me." She whined. "Julio is supposed to get out of classes soon. I hope he has plans, because I'm about to get my nails done." She groaned as she downed her glass of wine. Julio was her 5 year old son, who was currently in kindergarten. Most of the ladies had children around 5 years old already, Julia actually having 2 kids, twin girls who looked exactly like her. Arthur looked over at Alfred, disappointed when he couldn't see his face; he wanted to guess which of his features would their child possess. He sighed sadly. "What's wrong?" The Costa Rican woman asked. "You sound sad."

If Arthur had learned one thing from his time around the nobles, it was that they were very observant, and quite affectionate. He shrugged. "I not upset about anything... I think." He picked up a strawberry. "I mean... aren't swords a little primitive?" He asked suddenly, the group growing quiet. Isabelle chuckled.

"I would say so." She agreed. "But, there's no other weapon that can be mass produced as fast as the swords." He shrugged, and narrowed his eyes at his lap.

"I know, but..." He looked for his thoughts. "I arrived to the states on a steamship." He ran his hand through his hair. "There are factories in New York. Why are we mass producing swords, when we could be making more advanced canons and even firearms."

"My thoughts exactly." Said a gruff voice. The group turned to see Arnold walking towards them. He had on a white blouse with a very detailed red and white coat that had long tails that dragged on the floor. His pants were a deep navy blue, the bottoms tucked into his short black boots. Arthur snickered as he stood up, walking over to his father.

"You're looking quite... patriotic." He teased, Arnold looking down at his outfit in confusion. He chuckled as he realized the red, white and blue ensemble. The two proceeded to talk about the weather, and the conversation slowly drifting towards his arms business again.

"It's been a while since we've had a lesson." He said cooly, and Arthur groaned. He began to complain about the math, and the older man hushed him. "Whining won't do anything, I assure you. I'll let you finish your little tea party, but I want you in the prince's solar by 2 o'clock." He ordered gruffly, turning away and walking off. Arthur stared in his direction for a little while, Geoffrey whimpering in his arms. Arthur finally sighed, heading back slowly to the girls, who were chatting away.

"Look out!"

The Brit instantly seized up, shielding Geoffrey with his body as something hard and dense smacked him upside his head. He fell to his knees as his friends rushed over to him, but he could already see stars. He landed with a thud on his side, still being mindful of the baby as he passed out.

~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~

The brit woke up with an awful headache, the back of his head pulsating. He opened his eyes slowly, recognizing the room to be his, and a small group of people around him, reading and fidgeting with papers. He could see Isabelle, Chancy and Julia talking in the corner, Chancy holding on to his child with a deathgrip. He could see Davie and Marshal laughing over something with Alfred closeby, listening but not really caring for the conversation. Arthur sat up with a groan, grabbing the attention of the room. Everyone slowly made their way towards the bed, the nobles looking concerned. Alfred, Davie and Chancy didn't look all too stressed, considering he had suffered through worse.

"What hit me?" He tried to speak, but his throat was so dry that it only came out as a whisper. Julia deciphered it though.

"My idiot husband threw his shield." She huffed, glaring at Marshall, who looked down at his feet. "He was practicing this stupid trick he had seen in a play and he had wanted to show Alfred how it went. Whilst in the middle of it, the shield slipped and it collided with your head. It was moving quite fast, thank goodness you are alright. I've seen people perish from lesser things." She rambled, nudging her husband.

"Erm... I would like to apologize from the bottom of my heart." He sounded very sincere, and before the brit could stop him, he continued. "I really had no intention of harming you, or anyone. I was foolish for trying to show off as if there weren't infants and unarmored people around." Arthur laughed, despite his head threatening to burst open.

"It's fine." His voice was gravelly. "My head hurts like shit, and I think a part of my brain is jelly." He sighed, the group looking at him in confusion.

"What?" Marshall asked, confused. Oh, did he not get that it was a joke?

"No, no, I'm just kidding." He assured. "I just need some rest." Alfred cleared his throat, looking at the brit in concern.

"You're speaking in another language, babe." He grabbed Arthur's hands. "You knew that, right?" Arthur shook his head.

"Well, am I speaking in English now?" He asked, looking wildly around the room. Chancy shook his head.

"That's French." He corrected. What?!

"What about now?!" He climbed out of bed, gripping the wall as he walked. The room remained silent, not understanding what he was saying. "Holy shit! Dad! Dad!" He was screeching now, needing someone who could possibly translate. "Dad!" He was breathless, falling to his knees. "Daddy!?"

"Yes!" The room screamed excitedly, Arthur jumping. "That's English! We understood that!" Marshal exclaimed, rushing over to the brit, helping him up.

"Really?"

"Yes." Chancy assured. "'Daddy~'" He mocked, Isabelle snorting. Arthur rolled his eyes as Alfred lifted him and put him on the bed, tucking him in.

"I was legitimately terrified. I thought I was going to have to learn how to play charades." He mumbled, the group staring at him in confusion. Arthur shot up again, only to be greeted with stifled laughter. "You guys are horrible." He groaned, lying down, turning his back to them. "When should I be better? My head feels like it's been liquified and frozen." He grumbled, Davie clearing his voice.

"By tomorrow."

"So soon?" Isabelle asked. Davie nodded.

"The wound wasn't that deep. He only needed 4 stitches." He informed. "He'll be fine." Chancy crawled into the bed suddenly, yawning, laying down next to the brit. Though Julia and Isabelle looked confused, Alfred, Davie and Marshall thought nothing of it. The Frenchman rested his head on the other's chest to use as a pillow. "Alright then, I guess we should leave you two to sleep." The doctor shrugged, kissing Chancy goodbye and patting Arthur on the shoulder. "I'll take Geoffrey." He aded, scopping the infant off the ground and leaving the room, the others shuffling behind. Alfred too left a brief kiss on the brit's cheek, nodding at Chancy as he closed the door behind him.

The omegas stayed in silence until Chancy rolled over so he was no longer on the brit. He sighed in slight aggravation. "When were you going to tell me?" He asked, placing a hand on the other's face. Arthur reached to swat the other away, but Chancy shook his head. "I'm healing you, so answer my question." He commanded, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Well what is this question? I have no idea what you're talking about." He huffed. The frenchman glared at him, but he remained silent. Arthur could slowly feel the pain go away, sighing in relief. The tension was fading, similar to a stuffy nose being cleared up. After a few more minutes the pain was virtually gone, the brit thanking the other. "Thank you." He muttered, Chancy removing his hands from his face.

"I know you're pregnant, I could feel it once you had arrived at the palace." He said rather bluntly in French, the englishman looking at him with wide eyes and a shaky smile. He groaned.

"Don't tell anyone." Arthur spat, and Chancy nodded.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." He promised. "Does Alfred know?" Arthur smiled, nodding. "Well, congratulations to you guys." Arthur beamed at him.

"Thank Yo-"

"Our kids will be the same age!" Chancy said suddenly, the brit noddding in excitement.

"What if they're the same gender? We can bathe them together and they can sleep in the same room." Arthur added, Chancy nodding. "They can be best friends, like we are!"

"Yeah!" Chancy said. "I hope they're girls." He began to rub his little baby made a disappointed noise, wanting boys.

"Alfred and I want the first to be a boy. He's eager to get having an heir out of the way." He informed, the frenchman nodding in understanding.

"That's smart, seeing that you are royalty." From there the conversation shifted towards what Chancy was doing while Arthur was away. "Well, besides worrying about you," He started, Arthur blowing him a kiss. "I would hang out with Mary and Anabelle, watch Geoffrey, and do a whole bunch of paperwork." Arthur was confused as to why he was doing until he remembered that Chancy was the French ambassador now.

"Did you talk to your mom again?" Arthur asked, Chancy nodding.

"She hates Davie a lot less since he's cut communication with his parents." He had a grim face on. "It wasn't easy for him, too. He couldn't eat for days and refused to leave his room if it had nothing to do with work. I was even willing to deal with his mother's dissapproval if it meant that he could talk to his parents and feel better again. He refused, though, even after I had told him I was a witch. He's made an empty room his new surgery apart from his mother's, finding that it was the best way to thoroughly cut all ties with her. He avoids the gardens on weekends because he'll probably run into his father. It's just... depressing really."

Arthur bit his lip. Maybe he was biased, but he didn't find Davie's situation all that bad. He just had to make a single choice: the love of his life, or his parents approval. In the long run, the former seemed to be the more sensible option. Chancy narrowed his eyes at the brit. "What?"

"I can see the contempt in your eyes." He stated, Arthur making a face. "I'm serious! I mean... it's so much harder than it sounds, Arthur. I know hypotheticals are dumb, but let's say your parents were still with us." He proposed, Arthur nodding. "What if they disapproved of Alfred so much that they're practically doing everything they can to keep you apart. Can you honestly say that, considering everything your parents have done for you, you can cut them off and never speak to them again? That you'll disregard the nine months your mother carried you, and all the times she's made you laugh when you felt down? The nights she lost sleep because she was caring for your illnesses? You'll ignore the sacrifices your father had made in order to provide for his family? For you?" The englishman was a little shocked to see the other's eyes start to water. "Because I can't. And the fact that he was willing to do that for me makes me feel miserable because he's losing such an important part of his life." Arthur, pulled the other into a hug.

"He knew what he was doing, and I think he was fully aware of why he was doing it." He whispered, Chancy shaking as he broke down into a sob. "He loves you, and when someone loves someone, they'll do anything to make the other happy. He didn't want the rest of your relationship to be filled with you slowly resenting him, and possibly leaving him. He wanted to secure your spot in his life, even if it meant some pain on his end."

"But i-it's not fair!"

"It's just how things work, Chancy." Arthur had no better way to respond. "That's just the way the world works."

"My father might be coming, soon." He said randomly, Arthur looking down in shock. "I haven't heard from or of him since I had told him I mated. It's been 3 months already, and he's definitely been planning something." The brit didn't know what to say.

"Did you tell Davie that your parents are still alive?" Arthur asked. It'll be more than unfortunate if Davie learned that the other had lied the moment he met with his father.

"He knew that from the beginning. That's the first thing I told him when we met." He rubbed at his eyes. "Oh god, I just hope he doesn't hurt my husband." The frenchman sounded truly miserable. Arthur just continued his attempts to cheer him up as he cried, promising him that it'll get better. "That's easy for you to say, you're not living a lie!" Then englishman struggled to hold back his scoff; his whole existence was a lie.

"Love, if you don't calm down, Davie will notice and come check up on y-" Arthur was interrupted by a swift knock on the door. "Who is it?"

"Us." The omegas sucked their teeth. It was Davie and Alfred.

"Go away!" Chancy called out. There was an awkward silence until someone from behind the door cleared their throat.

"Why?" It was Davie speaking. "I mean... if you're not okay, you should tell me why, shouldn't you?" His tone had a bit of an attitude, and Chancy growled.

"I just want to be alone!" He shot back, and Davie scoffed.

"Then why are you with Arthur?!" Arthur could tell the other was getting upset, his tone harsher and more aggressive. Chancy was quiet for a while, before groaning, standing up. He walked over to the door and swung it open violently, the door handle slamming against the wall. He stormed over to the bed, the two alphas following after. Alfred looked uncomfortable, giving Arthur a look telling him to uninvolve himself in the situation. Arthur slunk off the bed, clearing his throat.

"I think we should be off." He announced meekly, Chancy shaking his head.

"No." He started, jabbing a finger in Davie's chest. "What do you want? I was in the middle of something." Davie, who stood a few inches taller than him, glanced down.

"I felt you crying... again." He sighed. Chancy frowned.

"Again?" He sounded confused, tilting his head to the side. He had suddenly lost all of his anger, grabbing Davie's hands. "What do you mean?" Davie rose his brows.

"I felt you crying everyday for the last 2 weeks or so. Whenever I came to check on you, you were all recooperated." Chancy shook his head again, rubbing at his eyes.

"This is the first time I'm crying in weeks." He said. "Are you sure you just were not feeling... uh, Goeffrey or something?" He suggested, and Davie shook his head.

"No, no, no, no, no. It was faint, but it was still there. Whenever Geoffrey's upset it's a... thing on the side of my head. It was definitely you." He asserted, and Chancy shook his head.

"No-"

"Yes, it was!." He grabbed Chancy by his shoulders. "What's wrong? Why have you been so sad?" He was genuinely concerned, Arthur could tell, and Chancy seemed to have gotten the message too. The blonde, nevertheless, shook his head slowly.

"But I'm fine." He stated, Davie making a face. The frenchman made the same face back, the two staring each other in the eyes until Davie sighed.

"Then," he shook his hands free from Chancy's and placed a hand on his face, his thumbs sweeping across the soft pale skin. "Why were you crying just now?" Arthur felt a tug on his sleeve, turning to see Alfred trying to lead them out of the room unnoticed. The brit hissed at him, wanting to be nosey. Chancy tried to pull away, but Davie cupped his cheeks firmly, forcing the other to look him in the eye. For a moment Arthur thought the other was squeezing too hard, the smaller one's face getting red. However, when he heard the other whine in defeat, he knew Chancy was just getting emotional. The frenchman wrapped his arms around Davie's neck and jumped so that the other could carry him. After hooking his arms underneath the omega, Davie turned to Arthur and Alfred, an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry, we'll be going." He slunk out of the room, ignoring the disappointed look in Alfred's eyes.

"I hate them together." He muttered, Arthur turning to look at him incredulously. What?

"They're perfect together!" The englishman was suddenly on the defensive. Alfred looked surprised, but he shook his head.

"I know he's your friend, and he was a big help when we were looking for you, but Chancy's a brat." He deadpanned. "Davie just wanted to be a good mate and ask Chancy what was wrong, and he got all angry. You never act like that." He walked over to the bed and flopped down. Arthur walked over to the door and closed it.

"I disagree." Arthur stated bluntly. "You're making these conclusions on what? One argument? I was ready to leave you after you had ripped my dress, if anything I'm more difficult." He pointed out. "Furthermore, you have no idea why Chancy was acting up just now." Alfred scoffed.

"Davie tells me everything." He said simply. "Like you, I know of all the fights. Chancy asks for something, and when he doesn't get it, he starts to cry. Once that doesn't work, he attempts to distance himself until he gets over it. Of course Davie forces him to come to terms with the reality: that no means no and that he can't have everything-"

"Chancy had stopped doing that." Arthur snapped. "He was only upset today because he felt... guilty for something." He said vaguely. Alfred hummed, and Arthur shook his head. "It's not my place to say. It's nothing too devastating, and I doubt Davie will have trouble seeing his point of view on things."

"Whatever." Alfred rolled over. "And as for you, yeah you have a lot of baggage." He stood up, approaching the omega. Arthur turned to face him, frowning. "And you are very entitled, self-righteous. At times inconsiderate and narrow minded; naive, foolish even. Not the most physically capable and are a perpetual liar." He stopped just in front of the brit. "But I love you, so it doesn't matter." He pursed his lips, allowing the brit to glare at him for a moment. The englishman frowned, each insult knocking his self-esteem down a notch because they were arguably true. Eventually he decided to laugh it off, offering the other a pained smile.

"Okay, if you loving me can be enough to overlook all... of that." Arthur swallowed harshly. "Davie loving Chancy should be more than enough to overlook the occassional tantrum." Alfred sighed in acceptance.

"Good point." He pulled the other in for a kiss, Arthur purposely not moving his lips. Alfred pulled away, not making anything of it, grabbing the omega's wrist and walking towards the door. "We need to check if they're alive."


2 hours later...

Arthur didn't even know where to start, it was all happening so fast. Arnold and the Queen were shaking hands as he quaked in the background. Alfred was currently embracing him, whispering to him sweet nothings in order to calm him down. "Relax babe, it's exactly how we said it would be." The omega was panting wildly, shaking his head.

"I can't breathe." He whispered hoarsely, looking past the prince only to make eye contact with the queen, whose piercing blue eyes burned threatened to burn holes through him. He made a pathetic sound before pulling away, looking at his alpha with pleading eyes. "Please do something! I can't!" He was on the verge of tears, Alfred looking overwhelmed, before nodding dumbly, turning to face his mother.

"Mother, I trust you've been well." He said stifly as he took in her appearance. She wore an elaborate red and gold dress. Arthur was sure the design was very detailed, however his vision was coming in and out of focus so often that he could hardly see it. The woman of his nightmares was finally before him, and it was all so overwhelming that he could hardly stand. He gripped the back of his lover's coat, the prince making a surprised noise.

"Well," The Queen said smoothly, Arthur forcing himself to stand straight beside his prince. "I see what you mean, he does look ill." She said slowly, something in her eyes glittering. She knows the truth, she can smell the fear. "Before you run off to get some rest, I would like to further apologize on Sir Livingston's behalf; throwing a shield in unheard of." Arthur lifted his skirt a little as he bowed.

"Pleasure to make your aquaintance." He was impressed with how calm he sounded, when he rose his head he could see the confusion in her eyes.

"You really are a male." She sounded so... disbelieving. Arthur snapped his head to the side, offering out a hand, momentarily forgetting his fear in his own offense.

"Oh... Yes, born and raised." Alfred cleared his throat as the Queen chuckled.

"My apologies. Alfred had told me your gender, but... you look so feminine." She 'apologized'. Arthur hardly saw that as an apology, that was an insult.

"No need, honest mistake." Arthur smiled, touching the bandages wrapped around his head; thank goodness he had kept them on. The woman began to circle around him, the brit making an almost inaudible squeak of renewed fear. He clenched his jaw in an attempt to look sound, begging for this introduction to be over. "Do you mind my asking of what matters you were tending to while away?" He needed to make this less awkward. The Queen hummed for a long time.

"No, not at all." She said finally, a bright smile on her slightly wrinkled face. "I would love to tell you over tea. Right now, actually." She offered out her elbow, Arthur staring at it only for a moment before courageously hooking it with his. They walked a few feet until the Queen stopped, turning around to face her son and Arnold. "You boys don't mind, do you?" Alfred's eyes widened considerable before settling on a sly smile.

"Of course not mother. Just be sure not to not do anything rigorous, he's healing." He instructed, and his mother nodded.

"I'll take good care of him."

~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~

"Need not be so tense." She said as she sipped from her cup. "There's no poison in that cup." Her brown curls cascaded down to her chubby waist, her chubby hand placing the cup on the table. Arthur chuckled slightly, taking a long sip of the beverage. The tea was actually quite good, humming in surprise and delight. "Good, yes?"

"Yes." Arthur said with a sigh, placing on the table as well. The queen hummed, her cold blue eyes analyzing him. Arthur made sure to make eye contact when he can, wanting to at least come across that he wasn't afraid of her. He was deathly afraid, but he didn't want to leave the room feeling as if he had blown it.

"He was right." He heard her whisper, and he quirked a brow in silent question. She smirked. "You are beautiful." Arthur felt his cheeks heat up, lifting a dainty hand to hide his embarrassment.

"Thank you. You too, look stunning today. The embroidery on your dress really stands out." He complimented, the queen smiling in gratitude.

"Thank you, but let's get down to business." She said bluntly, Arthur biting his lip in anticipation. "How much will it take to get you away from my son?" She asked bitterly. Arthur wondered which approach he should take: respectful, or snarky. He'll try being respectful first.

"I have no ulterior motives in wanting to marry your son. We love each-" He was cut off by hysterical laughter, the queen bent over in amusement. He waited for her to calm down. She eventually sat up and wiped a tear away.

"We all know British people don't have hearts." She chuckled breathlessly. Arthur blinked at her a few times before clearing his throat.

"I assure you, we British folk are just like everybody else. We get happy, we get sad, and we feel love towards our families and friends." His voice remained even, trying to conjure up his best Alfred impression. The queen shook her head.

"No, that's impossible. It's just a clever rouse, I assure you." She sighed, taking a bite out of a cracker. "I'm just surprised that Alfred had chosen a demon like yourself to show interest in." Demon? Whoa, that wasn't very classy. Saying that in letters is one thing, but calling him that outright was just... rude. The queen seemed to read his mind, rolling her eyes. "I have no reason to treat you as a human being, seeing that your kind couldn't find a reason in your hearts to treat my husband like such." She spat in disgust.

"I sincerely apologize on the behalf of Britain for what had happened to your husband." He said softly. "But surely you can't belive the actions of a few represent the character of the whole. What the Kirklands did was-"

"You mean yourself included, yes? Alfred had already informed me of the letter between Sir Arnold and my husband. You sneaky twigs, you brits." She rubbed her eyes. "Just looking at you disgusts me, do they not feed you on the island?" She asked, Arthur looking down at his figure in shock.

"Actually, no, not in the tunnels they don't. Your troops took most of the good lands." He answered. She shrugged.

"Good men need to eat."

"Unfortunately, all the good men are starving." Arthur shot back politley. "And as for how much it'll take for me to leave Alfred; I would consider it if you can bring back all the precious lives of my people you have stolen unjustly. That doesn't seem to be possible, unfortunately for you." He picked up his tea cup, taking a sip. "This is very good tea indeed." The Queen growled.

"Don't you dare try and sound righteous, you villainous whore!" She stood up. "My son has too high a standard to actually marry you, yet alone mate you." Arthur smirked.

"Ohohoho," He laughed, tugging at his collar. "That is where you are wrong." She walked over to look at the other's neck, growling in disgust. Arthur looked up to see her eyes alight in rage, deep furrows above her eyebrows. Arthur soaked up her expression. "Like I said, he loves me. And he will continue to love me until the day he dies-" She swung her hand down, cracking the palm of it across his cheek.

"As the king of this land he can annul the matehood when he wishes, you are not even close to permanent!" Arthur smirked at her.

"Tsk Tsk. I somehow expected more from you. I don't know why I'm so surprise, the rubbish you spewed in your letters more than enough indication that you were an awful person." He sighed deeply. "To think Alfred was hopeful to have you approval. And to stoop so low as to strike me, appalling."

"Silence." She huffed, sitting down. "If you won't leave, I won't make you. However, consider yourself shunned." She declared, and the brit scowled at her.

"By whom?"

"By the country." She scoffed. Arthur laughing.

"If so, only until Alfred is king, then your words will mean nothing." He assured, and she swallowed harshly. "I don't know nor care how you preceive me, but just understand that I do truly love Alfred, and I only want to make him and myself happy." He informed. "I had just hoped that as a mother you would have the same interests as well."

"You know nothing of what it is to be a mother." She sighed. "You cannot be a queen, especially of the United States. You are British! The son of the British King! Are you insane, or do you just have a death wish? You were already taken before, do you want to be taken again? Because I can arrange that." Arthur clenched his jaw.

"With your influence, I don't doubt that for a second." He said softly. "But I doubt you will."

"Excuse me?"

"I know you love your sons, Alfred in particular." He started, waiting for the woman to disagree. She didn't. "You wouldn't want to cause unnecessary pain to Alfred, he's under enough pressure as it is."

"Brief pain now will save him from long lasting pain later." She proclaimed, Arthur shaking his head.

"That's the mantra of the corrupt." He sighed. "Tell me the truth. Did you not like me based solely on my ethnicity, or was there another reason?" The queen hummed for a while before shrugging.

"Like any mother, I would have preferred to have had a say," She confessed. "Or at least know who the person was my son was to mate with." Arthur stood up, offering out a hand.

"You can still get to know me." She scoffed, looking up at him with incredulous eyes. "As ridiculous as it may seem, we will be spending some time together, and there is no point in both of us being miserable. Alfred had said it himself that he wanted me to get along with you; I'm doing this for him." They made unbreaking eye contact for about 5 minutes until she sighed, taking his hand.

"If I still don't like you by the end of the month, you are as good as dead to me." She added. Arthur nodded numbly.

"Well then, this has been a meaningful talk."