Most, if not all, of the old stories ended in triumphant returns home, the hero riding in on a gorgeous stallion draped in expensive baubles, head held high, sword and shield and armor glittering in the brilliant sunlight. Sometimes he would also be carrying back a beautiful damsel of some royal blood, clinging to him and whispering words of love and praise. Behind the hero would trail his band of warriors, ones who he'd either brought with him on his quest or found along the way. Everyone who saw them pass would cry out in awe and throw flowers at the horses' feet and swoon and gasp and cry out the hero's name. No one ever wanted him to leave again.

Alfred never thought his return home would be anything like that, and to be honest, it wasn't a perfect replica. There were no trumpets blaring out across the fields of Spades, and people weren't falling on his knees as he rode by, and his horse was wearing only the most basic Fey-style saddle and wasn't even really his to begin with, and Arthur certainly wasn't draped all over his back and whispering into his ear. That wasn't to say that Arthur was not there, though, because he certainly was, and he did have his arms wrapped around Alfred's waist. It was rather comforting, he thought, especially when he was riding alongside someone as flamboyant and impatient as King Gilbert.

That was where the rest of the old stories came into play. Alfred was indeed riding at the head of a column of warriors, even if they weren't Human, and even if they weren't what his people would consider heroes at all. The short column of Fey on horseback that kept pace behind him and Gilbert looked incredibly out of place as they rode down the streets of Spades. Farmers in their fields dropped their tools in shock as the column passed. Alfred could have sworn he saw one lady faint back into her husband's arms. He winced and couldn't blame them for their surprise. After all, there had been very few sightings of Fey for over ten years, and those that had been seen had certainly not been arrayed like this.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Alfred asked, leaning over slightly towards Gilbert. He felt Arthur shift behind him.

Gilbert shrugged, grinning lopsidedly. "You already agreed to it. You can't just turn back now."

Arthur chuckled, his arms tightening gently around Alfred's waist for a moment. "He's right, you know. We've already come this far. What could be gained by turning around?"

Those words sent a swell of happiness floating through Alfred's stomach and chest. He turned slightly to smile back at Arthur, the one he thought he'd lost, the one he'd risked everything for, the one who he never want to leave again. "You're right." There was no point in hesitating.

They kept riding on, passing through fields and villages and towns and forests and everything else that Alfred had passed through before in his frantic search for Arthur. And then, finally, the great walls of the capital of Spades rose up before them. Alfred's heart thudded nervously in his chest, but he pushed the anxiety away. He had waited far too long for this to give it all up then. Arthur was a warm, comforting presence against his back, his breath soothing where Alfred could feel it upon his neck. Somewhere back in their line of horses, Angelique and Hong were riding in his support. Beside him, he could see Gilbert watching his face curiously, and he squared his shoulders and trotted his horse towards the gates. He only needed to shout up to the guards once for the heavy wood and metal to swing open.

The city was different now, Alfred thought to himself as they rode inside. He'd grown up there, spent a childhood fleeing from his nurses and rushing through the streets, but he had always looked at it as something normal, something that could be found anywhere. Now, though, it was almost as if he was looking at those same exact streets with new eyes. After seeing the beautiful tree city of the Fey's capital, he could see that same kind of beauty in his own kingdom, in the cobbled streets and carved stone architecture and flowing banners. Pride surged through him, and what had before been a nervous frown on his lips turned up into a confident smile. This was his home. This was his city, his kingdom. These were his people. Somehow, they would understand that the Fey behind him was also his choice.

Cityfolk poured out of their houses and shops to stare at him as he rode by at the head of his envoy. Men who remembered the War gasped at the sight of the Fey, and small children whispered among themselves, but other than that, the only sounds that broke through the warm, sunlit summer morning were birdsong and the noise of the horses' hooves on the ground. Right at that moment, Alfred really felt like a Prince, more so than he ever had sitting upon a throne. It was an amazing feeling. The fact that Arthur was there with him only made it more wonderful.

But of course, perfect moments like that couldn't last forever, and soon enough, they were entering into the courtyard of the castle. Though Alfred had been bracing himself for it the whole journey, the sound of his mother's shrill cry still made him wince. Arthur patted his abdomen soothingly, but tension was evident in his body as well.

"Alfred!" The Queen stormed down the stairs out of the castle, her skirts held up in her hands so she wouldn't trip, and marched her way over towards him and his companions with an expression that promised very bad things to come. "Alfred, what in the gods' names do you think you're doing? Running off like that, without a single word to anyone but Matthew, who is still in trouble for refusing to tell us anything, by the way, and then just flouncing your way back in with a whole company of…" She hesitated, obviously struggling to find the words she wanted as she looked up at the Fey. Alfred hoped she couldn't think of any particularly bad ones. "… Enemies," she said finally.

Alfred could feel Arthur flinch slightly behind him, and a sudden fierce protectiveness overtook him. He raised his chin slightly and stared down at his mother. "They're not enemies, mother." His voice was strong and loud, that of a man instead of a child. "These people are my friends."

"Your friends?" she asked, eyes wide with disbelief, almost as if she thought Alfred's companions couldn't see or hear. None of the Fey spoke, just kept watching in silence. "Alfred, have you forgotten everything you learned about our history? The Fey have been our enemies for ages! They've killed our people, ransacked our villages, burned and looted and- and-"

"And we did the same to them," Alfred said gently. "Mother, they're exactly like us. Look at them!" He gestured back at the group of Fey gathered behind him. "What kind of differences do you see? Pointed ears? They're civilized people. They live in some of the most amazing houses I've ever seen, and they know so much about the world that we don't. We have so much to share, mother, don't you see? They know about things we could never dream about, and we have a lot that we can teach them back."

The Queen stared up at him, her full lips drawn in a thin line, and Alfred felt a pang of regret for making his mother this angry and upset. He wasn't about to take any of his words back, though, so he met her gaze evenly and refused to look away. The heated stare remained unbroken for several long moments. Finally his mother sighed and glanced away from his face, her eyes flicking across those of the Fey. "To bring them here, of all places…"

"Darling." A large hand landed softly on the Queen's shoulder, and both she and Alfred started and looked over at the King. Neither of them had heard him cross the courtyard. He looked up at Alfred, and though he obviously did not approve of his son's choice of companions, there was none of the cold anger or disappointment that his wife showed. "Let Alfred explain himself further. There must be more reasoning behind running off like that and then returning with a host of Fey." His eyes met Alfred's gaze, questioning.

Affection for his father rushed through Alfred, and he attempted a small, thankful smile before straightening up again and looking back at his company with all the regal airs he could muster. They were all watching him as well, waiting for whatever he intended to say. Then his eyes slipped down to Arthur's face, to pale skin and light freckles and large green eyes and the hint of a smile, and Alfred couldn't help but return it. This would all work out in the end. He was sure of it. Confident and reassured, he turned to look at his parents again. "You told me that I needed to find someone to marry before I turned twenty. Unless I'm mistaken, my twentieth birthday is in a few days, and I've found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."

His parents had not expected that. The Queen drew in a sharp breath, her eyes flicking from Alfred's back over the Fey, lingering on the few women seated amongst them. "You found your bride? A… A Fey girl?"

It was right then that Alfred realized, with more than a little amusement, that neither of his parents had even noticed Arthur behind him yet. His body must have shielded Arthur's shorter, more slender one from view. He let out a low chuckle and, in one deft movement, dislodged Arthur's arms and swung himself down off the horse's back. Both his parents and Arthur let out similar gasps of surprise as they found themselves staring at one another. "Not a Fey girl," Alfred said from where he stood beside Arthur's leg, unable to keep a slight grin off his face. "A Fey man. A librarian, actually. Mother, father, this is Arthur."

There was silence. The Queen stared at Arthur, and the King stared at Arthur, and Arthur stared back at the two of them, and none of them seemed to be able to find a single thing to say. Alfred looked back and forth between them, unwilling to bridge the quiet just yet. This was something they would have to figure out. Finally, Arthur cleared his throat. "Er," he said slowly, "hello. I'm Arthur. It's very nice to meet you."

It was a very charmingly Arthur thing to say, Alfred thought. He just hoped his parents would be as taken by the man as he was.

Unfortunately, that did not seem to be the case. His mother's mouth dropped open, gaping wide with many things to say but an inability to say them. The look in her eyes did not promise to be nice. It was the King who actually spoke up. "Alfred," he began, disbelief evident in his voice. "Alfred, is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to get a laugh out of us?"

"No!" Alfred wound his arm around Arthur's calf, looking up somewhat desperately into Arthur's eyes. The very idea of this not being real hurt far more than he'd like. "It's not a joke. I could never lie about this." Arthur smiled down at him, just a faint twitch of his lips, but the sight of it was enough to warm Alfred's chest, and he squeezed Arthur's leg tenderly.

"I see." The King was still frowning, but there was a hint of understanding in his face that hadn't been there moments before. Alfred could only hope that it would grow in time. But when he turned to look at his mother, any hope that had begun to bloom died right away. Her expression had gone from one of shock to one of pure anger, her blue eyes burning and her skin flushed. Alfred's grasp tightened slightly around Arthur's leg. Arthur hesitated, and then his hand trailed comfortingly through Alfred's hair.

That was what did it for the Queen. She lunged forward, grabbing Alfred's wrist and pulling him forcefully away from Arthur. Alfred yelped. "Mother!"

"Don't say anything, Alfred," she snapped, not even looking at him. Her narrowed eyes were fixed on Arthur's startled expression. "He's obviously enchanted you somehow with his wicked magic. But don't worry, darling, we'll deal with him right away, and before you know it, you'll be back to normal." She gestured towards a group of royal guards who were standing nearby. "You three, arrest this man and his companions. Keep them bound and locked up. I don't want them to be able to use any of their magic on you or anyone else."

The guards began to move forward slowly, their hands steadying themselves around their pikes, and all at once every mounted Fey except for Arthur and Gilbert was holding a bow and readying an arrow. Other Human guards and knights around the courtyard drew swords and spears.

This was not what Alfred had wanted, not at all. Before his mother could react, he wrenched himself away from her grip and back towards the white horse. "Stop!" he roared. "Stop, all of you!" He glared around at all of them, from his parents to the Fey to the soldiers, and even though he wasn't sure exactly how they would react, his voice echoed powerfully around the stone walls. And, to his surprise, they stopped. Every motion in the courtyard froze at once. The King and Queen stared at him in shock. Swords and bows remained unused. The air itself was still, silent, just waiting for him to speak again.

So Alfred did. He drew in a deep breath and faced down his parents, unwavering. "I came back here because I hoped you would accept me and my decision. You asked me to find the person I want to marry. I did. He's right here, and no matter what you say, he is the only person in this world that I would want to spend the rest of my life with." A gentle touch settled on his shoulder, and he turned to gaze into Arthur's deep green eyes. The Fey must have dismounted at some point during the confusion. Alfred smiled at him and took that hand into his own, entwining their fingers, before turning back to his parents. "If you won't accept that Arthur is the one I love, I won't stay here. I refuse to go along with those ridiculous old traditions if it means giving up something this wonderful. No matter how many girls you parade in front of me, none of them is Arthur, and I won't take them for a Queen."

"You would give up the throne for this man, Alfred?" the King demanded. "You've dreamed of kingship since you were a child. Is this really worth that much to you?"

Alfred nodded. "It is. A marriage of convenience might have been fine for you, father, but not for me. I won't accept it. I'm not that kind of person. You've always known that." He looked between his mother and father, still holding on to that faint, faint hope.

"But…" The Queen seemed to be struggling for words. Her eyes kept flickering down to where Alfred and Arthur's hands connected. "He's a Fey. He's not Human. He's…"

"I know," Alfred said, chuckling slightly. "I wouldn't want him any other way."

Arthur let out a sigh at that. "As foolishly romantic as always, aren't you?"

"You love it." They both knew it was true.

The King gazed at them. "You do realize that you're not the only one in line for the throne," he said slowly, though there was no real threat behind the words. "Your brother, Matthew, could take it if you were to elope. There's no-"

"I wouldn't take it." And there was Matthew himself, suddenly appearing by Alfred's other side. His footsteps weren't quite as quiet as the Fey, but he could still move almost unheard. He cast his brother a reassuring smile and looked back over at the King and Queen. "I've never been cut out for ruling, father. I would much rather stay on with the Spymaster. I'm one of his prized pupils, you know."

"Then you're in favor of your brother taking a male Fey for his bride?" their father asked.

Matthew's smile grew. "Of course I am. Alfred might do some strange things at times, but I don't think he would go to all this trouble without knowing exactly what he's getting into, and exactly what he wants." Alfred nudged his brother's arm in quiet thanks.

The courtyard was silent for a long few minutes. Alfred looked around at everyone gathered there, and then his eyes settled on Arthur, Arthur who looked strained and nervous but so strong and unwilling to back down. His heart swelled in his chest. This was what he was fighting for, to see that beautiful strength and fragility every single day for the rest of his life. There was no way he would back down. He raised his chin and stared at his parents. "Well?"

"Are you certain you haven't been enchanted?" the Queen blurted. She held her hands out desperately. "The Fey have strange magic, Alfred. You could be under some sort of spell, some evil power that took over your will, and you might not even know it! I don't think you're in your right mind, darling-"

"Mother." Alfred's voice was warm but firm, and the Queen's words trailed off immediately. He smiled at her. "I've seen Arthur's magic. He's showed me it several times before, and it's not what you think. It's one of the most beautiful, amazing things I've ever seen. It really is." As he spoke, he turned to look at Arthur again. Arthur was flushed faintly red, and there was an embarrassed smile playing around his lips, and Alfred knew that there were things even more beautiful than magic in the world. "He didn't enchant me, not with magic at least."

"Oh, Alfred," Arthur muttered, his blush unfading. "That was absolutely horrible. I can't believe you just said that in front of two Kings, and one of them is even your father." Both Matthew and Gilbert laughed.

"You're truly serious about this, then?" the King said after a moment, his violet eyes neutral, unreadable.

"Yes." Alfred met that stare head on, despite the flickerings of anxiety in his stomach. "I am."

Silence again. Alfred could feel Arthur's pulse beating alongside his own, their combined heartbeats resounding up from where their hands were still connected. His father's expression did not change. The hope that had refused to leave Alfred's mind flickered and faded. It seemed that his parents were too deeply rooted in the old ways to be able to accept something so new. He breathed out a deep, disappointed sigh, shaking his head even as his hand tightened its grip around Arthur's fingers. "I guess this is goodbye then, father. I'll miss you, and you too, mother… I wish things could have turned out differently, but I guess that couldn't happen." Arthur squeezed his hand gently, his eyes welling with sympathy, as they both turned back towards the horse they had ridden.

"Wait."

Alfred froze at the sound of his father's voice. That was the King voice, the one that no one dared to disobey. He looked back over his shoulder at his father. "Yes?"

The King wasn't even looking at him. Instead, those violet eyes were focused on Gilbert, who, still mounted, towered over the Human King's head. "I assume that your presence here means that you consent to this union?"

Gilbert shrugged his shoulders. "I wasn't sure what to make of it at first, either, but I think they really have something here." He grinned. "Your boy is really persuasive in his storytelling."

"Storytelling?" asked Alfred's father.

"Ask him to tell you about how he and Arthur met and everything. It's a real heartwarmer, believe me." Then Gilbert's expression settled into something more neutral and kingly, and he suddenly seemed the very picture of royalty as he stared down at the Human King. "But what I am truly here for is to show my support of a friendship, perhaps even an alliance, between my own people and the Kingdom of Spades. This marriage could provide that, even if Arthur isn't one of my own children, and I think such a relationship between our Kingdoms would be good for both of us."

Alfred's father regarded him sternly, though there was a curiosity, almost a feeling of kinship, in his stare. "I will admit to thinking the same thing every now and then. But how could this union help that cause? Arthur is male. He can't provide any heirs to my son."

"We'll take one in," Alfred interrupted. His palm was sweating where Arthur still held it. "There are so many orphaned and homeless children out in the streets. One of them could be my heir."

"There's no precedent." But even the Queen looked as though she was considering the idea.

Alfred couldn't help the awkward grin that spread across his lips. "We'd already be breaking so many other traditions. I don't think one more is going to hurt anyone." This was it, he thought. He'd spoken his piece, Gilbert had chimed in, Arthur and Matthew were standing strong beside him, and now his parents were actually thinking over the idea. His hopes of marrying Arthur and still keeping the throne seemed to be within his grasp.

The King and Queen of Spades exchanged a long, quiet look. Alfred had seen that sort of look before, and it usually meant something momentous was going to happen, but it was still so very hard to read and he couldn't figure out just what they were going to say. He squeezed Arthur's hand and held him close, his breath catching in his throat as he felt Arthur rest slightly against him, because he never thought he would be able to get used to that wonderful feeling, and waited for his parents' answer.

"Well," said the King after a moment, and then didn't say anything else for even longer. Alfred struggled not to shift his weight nervously. His father looked around at all of the assembled company. "Well," he said again, "I suppose this means we will have to find some suitable wedding finery for Arthur. Somehow I don't think the traditional wedding dress of Spades will work here."

Alfred couldn't help it. He laughed, relief pouring out of every inch of skin, and threw his arms around Arthur. One dazedly happy spin later, he set his new fiance down on the ground again and beamed around at everyone. "Thank you so much, father. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Yes," Arthur added, breathless and red-faced and still in the circle of Alfred's arms. "Yes, thank you, your Majesty."

But the King just waved their thanks aside, smiling now himself beneath his grey-flecked mustache, and offered his arm to his wife. She took it, and though she looked a little more hesitant about the situation, she was smiling faintly as well. "Come inside," she said to their company. "We'll need to sit down and discuss just how this marriage is going to affect our Kingdoms."

Gilbert nodded, swinging himself down off his horse with more grace than Alfred had been expecting. His Fey hunters dismounted after him. With one more wink at Alfred and Arthur from Gilbert and a smile and wave from Angelique, they began to follow the King and Queen of Spades up the staircase and into the castle. Matthew gave Alfred a gentle pat on the shoulder, smiling widely between him and Arthur, before making his way inside as well.

And then Alfred couldn't wait anymore. He turned to Arthur, who stared up at him, his mouth open as if to speak and ask why they weren't going inside yet, and beamed down into those wide green eyes. And he kissed Arthur full on the lips, hard and fast and without the slightest hint of desperation, because there wasn't any need for that anymore. He kissed Arthur right there in the middle of the courtyard, with guards watching and his parents and the Fey King nearby, and it was even more amazing than he could have imagined. Then Arthur's hands came up to grab his cheeks and deepen the kiss, and somehow, it got even better.

For once, it seemed that the world had decided to spin just the right way at just the right time, and Alfred had found his One True Love, and he was very, very sure that happily ever after was right around the corner.

A/N- And finally, chapter nine. Sorry for the delay. This chapter really didn't want to be written.

So, er, have some awkward dialogue and lots of sap. I had something planned to say here but I've completely forgotten what it was. Oh well. Anyway, one more chapter to go, and this part of the story will be finished. However! I rather like this universe that I built, and I doubt I'll just drop it and leave. There might be some one-shots cropping up now and again about Alfred and Arthur. No promises though.

Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for the reviews and favorites and alerts.