Coronation credits to Queen Elizabeth and Archbishop of Canterbury lol

Arthur's Point of view...

Hours later...

Arthur had changed into his more formal wear with Matthew, Chancy, Feliciano, and Romano later into the evening. It was around 8 o'clock pm and everyone was here, the Grand hall filled with so many different languages and attire. It was a scene from a story book. The brit just shivered at the thought of it. The coronation was going to start any minute, the room buzzing in excitement for the American royal family. With the exception of a corner to the brit's left. When Matthew saw Arthur looking off in that direction, he explained.

"That's Ivan and Gilbert." Arthur gasped, the two not being what he expected them to be. For one, no one had told him the German was an albino. Two, no one had told him that the Russian was so... big. Until now Arthur had never met a man who looked as if they could overpower Alfred, however this Ivan guy looked insanely strong. His eyes were a pale violet, his fiance's eyes a deep red. But back to the Russian, he wore a large gold chain around his neck, and a gold and silver crown laced with velvet and jewels on his head. His outfit was a very long cream colored tunic that trailed about 2 feet behind him, but of course the outfit was embroidered with golden vines and the occasional sunflower. His sleeves were very large in diameter around the wrists, so he could easily cover his hands and perhaps conceal gifts and food in there simultaneously. His ash blond hair could almost be mistaken for white if he weren't surrounded by the color. Against his outfit, his hair was most certainly blond. He was, to say the least, very attractive. His thick eyebrows were knitted downwards, and his soft pink lips were in a deep frown. His skin, like Arthur's, and like Gilbert's, was unnaturally pale.

Arthur turned his attention to Gilbert Beilschmidt, who, to his shock, was already staring at him, analyzing him intently. Arthur snapped his eyes away, but he could tell the other was still staring. The brit had a little debate in his head before he grabbed Matthew by his hand and forced him to come along. "Where are we going?" He asked.

"To say hi." Matthew groaned as he pieced things together. However, he didn't protest. As the pair approached the couple, Arthur could see a flash of panic on the German's face, confused as to why they had walked over. Oh, so he didn't notice the brit staring? Arthur put on a smile as a way to defuse the situation, and by the way the German's shoulder's relaxed, it worked. He had a crown similar to Ludwig's on his head, but his outfit was identical to Ivan's. When the group was in earshot of each other, Gilbert spoke.

"Hallo, ich heiße Gilbert." He said in German. Arthur nodded, speaking in German back.

"Hello, my name is Arthur Pendragon." He bowed slightly in his dress. "I came over because I don't believe we've met." He explained, and the albino smirked.

"Ahh, so you wanted to meet my awesomeness." He nodded in understanding. Arthur narrowed his eyes at the other. Huh?

"Uh, sure. Well, anyways, I assume this is your mate." He said pointing towards Ivan, who was just watching their conversation with uninterested eyes. Gilbert didn't respond, instead he turned to the Russian and spoke in the tsar's native language.

"I think this is Alfred's mate." He said. "He is pretty. Sucks that I didn't meet him first. There's no way he could have resisted all of this awesomeness!" Ivan scoffed.

"You wish." He started. "His standards seem to be too high." Gilbert chuckled at the little jab.

"But at least your standards aren't." He shot back, Ivan's stony expression turning warm.

"Yeah, luckily for you."

Arthur silently translated the conversation to Matthew, who "Aww"d silently. "You guys are surprisingly cute together." The American said suddenly, the couple turning to him in confusion. "Tell them what I said." He ordered the brit.

"He believes the two of you are cute together." He said in Russian, the couple taken aback, blushing in mild embarrassment. Gilbert nodded.

"We speak some english." He said in a deep German accent.

"You can speak Russian?" Ivan asked, a heavy russian accent making the brit shiver. He nodded shyly. "That's impressive. Gilbert's one of the only other people here who can speak Russian. They all seem to know how to speak English, though." His voice remained leveled, but Arthur had a feeling if he had the ability to, he would have sounded bitter. "Where are you from?" He asked.

"England. I'm the last king's 4th son." He introduced himself. The pair nodded, before Gilbert gasped.

"Just for the record, our territory had nothing to do with the collapse of your empire." He said sheepishly. "It was mostly the French, Americans and the Spanish." Arthur bit his lip, nodding.

"I try not to think about those things, considering where I am." He confessed. "But I am aware, thank you." The German shrugged before turning his attention to Matthew.

"Whaddup loser?" He shot informally in English, the American scowling.

"Nothing much, snowflake." he shot back, the albino snickering. At least the brit thought it was a snicker. It was more of this broken hissing sound.

"Kesesesese~" there it was again. Arthur couldn't help but stare.

"I know, it's weird." Ivan said, shaking his head. "Try hearing that when you think you're alone. It's disturbing." Arthur nodded.

"I could only imagine." He chuckled, taking a sip of water from his glass. "He seems happy though." He thought outloud, the russian quirking a brow.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Arthur cursed himself.

"I mean no disrespect." He assured. "I just figured he'd be lonely without his family." He shrugged innocently, but the russian was still giving him a hard gaze.

"I don't recall telling you he lives in the winter palace with me." He said quietly. Arthur furrowed his brows. He himself didn't even know that!

"He's living with you? I heard that he only spent a week out of the month with you." He tilted his head to the side, giving the russian a hard stare in return. The russian looked confused.

"That was months ago." he mumbled. "But I'm not surprised, seeing that you were overseas. You wouldn't have known." He looked over to Arthur's left. "Hello little one." Arthur looked down to see that Julius was clinging to his dress. Was he there the whole time? Arthur introduced him.

"His name is Julius. He's going to be living with me for a while." He proceeded to explain the palace ward program to the russian.

He nodded to himself. "You know-" The prince was cut off by a loud cacophony of trumpets and horns. "It's begining." He said dully, squaring his shoulders and taking a seat. The layout of the grand hall was guests on both sides of the room, and a narrow space between them for the prince and his entourage to walk through. The room was decorated in lavish reds and purples, rose petals all over the floor, leading up to the short set of stairs before the throne. The throne itself was gorgeous, no matter how many times Arthur has seen it. The velvet cushions and authentic gold framing made the furniture look so ornate. The Palace priest was already waiting at the top of the stairs, with the new crown resting on a pillow in his hands.

The trumpets stopped blaring, and the large double doors swung open slowly, revealing John the harold. The older man had his dark hair gelled back and his facial hair trimmed. He was dressed in light blue imperial uniform with an array of buttons and fastenings. "I present to you, Crown Prince Alfred Fitzgerald Jones." His voice was booming, and no corner of the room escaped the message. He began to march towards the stairs as more people began to enter from the double doors. Arthur spotted Marshal, Thomas, Clark, Jorge, and Davie in that order, each wearing their armor underneath a light blue tunic with their respective family emblems on it. They had their swords on their hips in their sheaths as they took their positions on the side of the steps, waiting for the prince. Arthur could hardly hold his gasp once Alfred stepped in through the door.

Alfred too wore the armor and the blue tunic, but his outfit was supplemented by... a shit ton of jewelry and a long flowing cape. Let's break down the outfit, shall we. His polished armor was made with 100% real steel, his tunic made of silk from China. On the chest of his tunic the royal crest, an eagle whose sharp claws were wrung around the neck of a small furry animal. He had his sword sheathed at his waist, the sheath itself shimmering with jewels and silver. He held a large circular shield in one hand, a larger image of his family's crest engraved onto it. His cape was a royal blue, and it stretched far behind him, at least 2 yards. The cape, the brit could tell from there, was thick, yet soft. The trim of the cape was made from the hide of a... zebra? The black and white stripes of the trim traveled all around the perimeter of the cape, extending to his shoulders, where the cape fastened onto his armor. He wore silver medallion after medallion around his neck, the brit wondering how heavy it was. Finally, Arthur moved his attention to his mate's face, heart fluttering at the determined and yet calm expression he had. His ocean blue eyes were alight, the brit could tell, and the brit could swear he saw his lips tug. With the armor and the shield held out in front of him, it almost looked as if the American was off to war.

He walked up the stairs and kneeled before the priest, his long blue cape resting on the steps. The priest cleared his voice. "Do you solemnly swear to govern the Peoples of the United States of America, your pacific territories, and all other territories under the United States crown?"

"I solemnly promise to do so." The prince said.

"Will you, to your power, allow Law and Justice, with mercy, to be executed in all of your judgements?"

"I will." The prince answered.

"Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the Laws of God and the true profession of the Gospel?" The priest asked. "Will you to the utmost of your power maintain in the United States the religious toleration established by law?" he continued. "Will you maintain and preserve inviolable the settlement of all peoples, and the doctrine, worship, and discipline thereof, as by law established in America? And will you preserve unto the Bishops and Clergy of America and to the Churches there committed to their charge, all such rights and privileges, as by law do or shall appertain to them or any of them?"

"All this I promise to do. The things which I have here before promised, I will perform, and keep. So help me God." The priest placed the pillow on the chair, taking the crown gently and placing atop of Alfred's head. Two other clergy members carrying a silver scepter and a bible on a pillow. The one with the scepter kneeled down beside Alfred, offering it out. Alfred took hold of the scepter, standing up and facing the crowd. "I, Alfred Fitzgerald Jones, do solemnly and sincerely in the presence of God profess, testify, and declare that I am a faithful Protestant, and that I will, according to the true intent of the enactments which secure the succession to the Throne of my Realm, uphold and maintain the said enactments to the best of my powers according to law." The priest with the Bible in his hand knelt down before Alfred and offered out the book.

"Here is Wisdom; These are the lively Oracles of God!" priest said, the American picking it up. The trumpets began to play, the crowd cheering. Alfred nodded to the priests before taking a seat on the throne, wiping his brow. Everyone began to stand up, the brit making his way through the crowd to congratulate his mate, Matthew and others closely behind. Once Arthur was in front of the stairs, he stopped himself, suddenly feeling self conscious. He looked down at his feet before looking up again, blushing under the intense gaze of his mate. The prince - no- King outstretched his hand, motioning for the brit to take it. Arthur took a hesitant step forward.

Alfred broke into a smile, now extending both hands for the other to take. Arthur chuckled as he rushed over, his own hands outstretched. "I'm so proud of you~" He squealed, bouncing a bit. Alfred smiled, his cheeks turning pink. He stood up, hugging the brit firmly.

"You look beautiful." He sighed, looking down at the other's appearance. Arthur shook his head, lacing their fingers together.

"Thats amazing coming from you. You looking absolutely dashing!" He complimented. Alfred smiled.

"It's heavy as hell, though." They chuckled together, before a thought popped into Arthur's mind.

"You better not dress like this tomorrow." He warned, Alfred looking down at him in confusion before breaking into a smile.

"I mean, no amount of shields could distract from your beauty." He teased. "But if you insist, I'll bring it down a notch tomorrow." He took step away from Arthur. "You honestly look amazing." He repeated, and Arthur looked away, bashful. "Twirl for me." He ordered.


Alfred's POv...

Alfred's mouth watered as the other turned in a circle over and over. Nothing is sexier than Arthur in a nice dress. Well, except Arthur naked that is. He wore a gorgeous navy blue dress with white and gold detailing on the front and back of the silhouette. The crinoline was huge, it was almost cone shaped, expanding no more than 4 feet at the base. The dress was sleeveless, so his smooth pale arms were completely visible. The brit, he could tell, was wearing heels, seeing he stood a little taller than normal. He also had a bit of makeup on: gold eyeshadow, peachy rouge. His lips were plumped and a light pink. His hair was in an updo, a simple bun with a small tiara on it, shimmering gold. The King approached him and wrapped a possessive hand around him.

"Aren't you gonna sit on your new throne for a while, my king?" He teased. The American scoffed.

"Only if you sit on my lap." Arthur blushed as he lightly wacked his shoulder.

"Don't you start, git." He warned, pulling away as some of Alfred's leading men approached with their mates. Alfred smiled at his companions warmly, welcoming the bear hug that almost swallowed him whole. He could hear Arthur and his friends laugh.

"Guys~" He complained, but none of them would release him. "Ugh! We're in our armor. And this cape is expensive!" He suddenly remembered, pushing them off. They laughed as they let go, patting his shoulders and smiling brightly.

"We are so proud of you!" Davie was the first to speak, pulling the King in for another hug. "You're going to do great man, I can just feel it." His friends nodded, causing Alfred to blush.

"I-I'll try..." He muttered, looking down at his new scepter. The feeling was... unreal. Everything seemed so unreal. So... dreamlike. This is what he's been waiting for. His whole entire life, he's been waiting for this moment. Of course there has been some setbacks, but he finally has the crown. And tomorrow is his wedding day. His first day as king will be spent making his mate his queen, and perhaps going on a honeymoon afterwards? He began to pant. When will he start policy making? How will he help the people? Should he give a survey first to see what the basic needs of his people are, or should he-

"Hey," A firm hand patted him on the back. It was Thomas. The king internally screamed. Why is he so nice? He's planning on executing his father! Wait... He can't let the first thing he does as king be an execution! Of one of his best friends's father at that! He groaned. Was Arthur right, should he just pardon him? "Just relax" Thomas continued. "Breathe in and out. You'll do fine as King. Matter of fact, you'll probably throw us into a Golden Age! Don't get nervous. Trust your gut." Are you sure, because his gut is telling him to kill his father? Alfred nodded, cursing himself. He'll settle for exile.

"Thanks, man. I-" He was interrupted by the sounds of trumpets blaring, the tables being brought in and moved to the sides of the room, the chairs following close behind. The crowd began to dance as the band played, an orchestra to be exact. The Grand Hall was huge, 180 feet long and 100 feet wide. There was more than enough room for a number of festivities. "It's time to dance... I guess." Marshal grabbed the king by the wrist, pulling him to the crowd.

"Dance with us!" He ordered, grabbing Davie's hand, who in turn grabbed Clark, who grabbed Tommie, who grabbed Alfred. The circle of boys were full of chuckles as they made their way to the dance floor, ignoring the confused or amused glances of the palace guest. "Where's Jorge? We need an even number of people!" Marshie asked, looking around in the sea of people.

"He's with his wife." Said a heavy spanish accent. Alfred and the gang turned to see Mary and Jorge dancing, well, really, it was Mary dancing and Jorge trying to inch his way to his friends.

"Join us!" they cheered, the man with the clingy wife breaking away and rushing over to his friends.

"Jorge!"

"I'll make up to you, I promise!" He called out to his wife, turning his attention to the king. He and Alfred embraced. "You look sharp. Are your ready? Focused? Excited?" Jorge asked, grabbing Marshal as his partner, dancing. Alfred nodded as he partnered with Clark, the African American deciding to take the lead.

"You better be." He said seriously, and Alfred almost felt his heart drop.

"I'm not sure though." He muttered. "I know what to do, but... what if I can't execute?" Clark twirled him. "I mean, what kind of king would I be if everything I do goes wrong?" Clark pursed his lips.

"A bad king." He said bluntly, and Alfred frowned. "But, you won't be, because, even when you feel confused and don't know what to do, the people who are around you can and will help you. This country will be fine. You'll be fine." He assured, and Alfred sighed.

"Hopefully." Clark raised a brow.

"Why choose now to begin to doubt yourself?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. Alfred shrugged.

"It just dawned on me that I have an entire country riding on my back." Clark stared at him as they waltzed. "And..." The prince groaned. "The last few weeks were a little rough, and I learned, that in the grand scheme of things... I'm not shit, you know?" He frowned. "Things could easily get worse from here. For all we know, today marks the beginning of the end of the United States of America." Clark sighed.

"Stay optimistic. You don't want to jinx yourself." he advised.

"Wow, thanks, I feel sooo much better." Alfred teased. "Nice Chat." Clark rolled his eyes. Of course Alfred was half telling the truth. Talking it out did make him feel better, but maybe he'll talk to Davie and Francis about it later. Suddenly Clark swung Alfred into the arms of another, Davie to be exact. "Oh, is our dance done so soon?"

"For the better." Davie answered for the other, who was now out of earshot. "You look stunning." He teased, the king flipping his hair.

"I feel stunning." Shooting the other a dazzling smolder. Davie shivered.

"You're so creepy, let jokes die." He said in mild distaste.

"Bitch."

"Super Bitch." The two stared each other down until they began to crack up in laughter, grabbing the attention of a number of party guests. "Nah, but seriously," Davie chuckled. "You're gonna be fine. This is the beginning of a new phase of your life. You're king today, you'll be a husband tomorrow-" Alfred nodded along.

"I'll be a father in 7 months." He added to his growing list of responsibilities. "Damn, I'm gonna be a busy son of a bitch." He muttered to himself. He paused at the shocked face of his dance partner. "Yes?" They stood still for about 10 seconds, Davie's eyes watering slightly as he smiled brightly.

"You're going to be a dad?" he grabbed Alfred by his shoulders before pulling him into another rough hug. "CONGRATULATIONS!" He practically squealed. Alfred cursed himself as he hushed him. How could he so recklessly reveal this?!

"NONONONO NONONONO!" He tried to stop the other, but his other friends were already crowded around them, wanting to know what the commotion was about. "Davie-"

"They're pregnant!" the 2nd in command informed, the other men getting excited and congratulating him wildly. Alfred tried to settle them down so he could tell them not to tell anyone, but they just wouldn't stop, Marshal having the audacity to actually rush towards Arthur and his group of friends.

"No!" Alfred ordered, but he was out of earshot. He sprinted after the other, but the crowd was so dense and Marshal was surprisingly fast. Alfred suddenly found himself lost and annoyed in a sea of rich people. "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me." he said as he made his way through. When he had finally found Marshal is was well past too late, the idiot was already kissing Arthur's hand, the girls around Arthur bouncing up and down in excitement. "Oh shit." He groaned, debating whether to go in like a man, or run off and mingle with the royals. Before he could decide he was pulled to the side by King Ludwig of Germany.

"Are you enjoying the party, King Ludwig?" Alfred asked, shaking hands with the blonde man. The German smiled warmly, nodding.

"I really pulled you aside because I wanted to apologize." He said bluntly. Alfred tilted his head.

"For what?"

"For judging your mate with prior prejudices in my mind." He confessed. "After my brief encounter with him this morning, I can see why you are so serious about him." Alfred smiled.

"You liked him?! I was right?!" He chuckled, the German laughing along with him.

"Yes, yes... I also came to you about my prior... request." He straightened himself. Alfred nodding. "So, will you help?" The American groaned.

"Before I make my decision, I think we both need to interact with your brother and his mate-"

"He is not his mate." The german corrected, and the American nodded.

"My mistake, his fiance." He said cooly. "We should meet and have a conversation with them." He suggested. "So we can see for ourselves what their relationship is like in person." Ludwig shook his head.

"They can just pretend to be a happy couple." He grunted, and Alfred shook his head.

"Gilbert wears his emotions, you know that." He sighed. "If anything is wrong, we'll be able to tell." He glanced over at his mate, who was beet red as he tried to calm his entourage. Alfred could tell by the wild look in his eyes that he was overwhelmed and confused, and by the way the omega was shrinking back, Alfred could tell he was also getting scared. He groaned, guilt washing over him as he turned back towards the German. "If you'd excuse me." He said quickly, waiting for Ludwig to nod before rushing over to his mate.

"Artie, babe!" He called as he approached the circle, smiling weakly at the sight of his scowl. "I'm sorry." He whimpered once he came close enough, Arthur groaning in annoyance. Alfred pulled him into a hug, excusing them from the group. Once they were again by the throne, Arthur snatched his hand away from the other. "Arthur I know I-"

"I told you not to tell anyone!" He hissed. Alfred groaned, nodding. As Alfred looked down at his toes, his eyes spotted something red by the other's dress. He snapped his eyes to see Julius burying himself into Arthur's dress. His red velvet coat made him easy to spot. The king offered a hand out for the little, who took it, now hiding himself behind his legs.

"I'm sorry, it just slipped." Arthur put his hands on his waist. "I mean it. I was talking about my life was changing because I'm king and that it'll continue changing because I'm going to get married, and be a father." He confessed. "Please don't be mad, I didn't mean to." He begged, the brit scowling.

"I... they know now!" He groaned, squeezing his eyes close. Alfred cursed, was he going to cry? He grabbed the other's shoulders gently.

"I'm really sorry. I... I would say I'll make it up to you, but I don't know how." He confessed, the brit looking up at him with red eyes. "But for now, forgive me. Please." Arthur nodded.

"I mean, now that they know, we don't have to plan a whole... thing to tell them." He attempted to look on the bright side. "It's not too bad, I guess." He sighed, looking at the dancing crowd. "I know how you can make it up to me." He smiled lightly. Alfred could guess what he was thinking, getting on his knees and offering up a hand. Arthur nodded as he took, blushing as Alfred took him to the dance floor. Julius began to yawn, the king remembering his presence. He lifted the young boy onto his hip as the walked. It would be slightly uncomfortable to dance with a child in his arms, but he didn't want to let the boy out of his sight.

"May I have this dance?" He asked as the music switched. Arthur nodded.