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Ahhh, thank you all so much! I'm especially grateful for the reviews saying the smut was okay. I was kind of worried I was focusing too much on the emotional side, ya know?

Anyway, I'm not really feeling for this chapter (which is why it's the shortest chapter of the story). I was kind of going back and forth about including it, but I decided, why not? It's a filler chapter though, and I'm gonna post the last chapter and epilogue now as well.

Another week passed by peacefully. It was almost hilarious how easily Arthur and Alfred fell back into routine, practically an image of domesticity. Even Yao was in better spirits now that he didn't have to shoulder the weight of the entire Kingdom by himself.

It was almost cliché then when, just over a week after Alfred and Arthur moved in together, Arthur got to meet Alfred's parents.

"Your Majesties," a guard said, out of breath and urgent, "There is a couple at the door demanding to see the King. They refuse to leave."

"Throw them out, then," Arthur said dismissively. It wasn't like such scenarios were particularly uncommon.

"Sir," the guard caught his breath, addressing Alfred, "They claim to be your parents."

Alfred froze. "What?" he asked, eyes wide. There was no way his parents had actually shown up. Not now.

"Would you like to see them, sir, or should I have them thrown out?"

Arthur was troubled to notice that Alfred had gone pale with shock. It didn't seem he would be able to form an answer anytime soon. "Take us to see them," Arthur said decisively. If they didn't check, he knew Alfred would be kicking himself for not knowing for sure.

The guard hesitated, glancing at the King, before nodding.

"Alfie!" the man said happily. He really did look like he was being reunited with a long-lost son.

"Oh, Alfred, there you are," the woman said with relief. "Would you please tell these people to back off? It's really becoming quite irritating.

"Mom? Dad?" Alfred walked slowly, unsteadily, as if he were in a dream.

"Aren't you going to invite us in, Alfred? It's been so long," she said, walking forward.

"Uh, yeah. Right. Um," snapping out of it, Alfred turned to address the guards. "It's alright, guys. They're fine." Turning back to his parents, he said, "What are you two doing here? I didn't know you were in town."

"We just got back a few days ago," his father said warmly, the pair walking in like they were at home. "So we just found out you were chosen to be King. Congratulations!" he said, hugging his son. Alfred stiffened, surprised, before returning the hug gingerly.

"Thanks," he said uncertainly. "I was actually chosen a few months ago. Where have you been?" It was a loaded question that was deflected easily.

"We we've been around," his mother said, waving her hand vaguely. "Travelling, you know."

"Right," Alfred said, deflating slightly. "Oh!" He turned to Arthur. "Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Arthur. He's the Queen," he said, oddly proud, as if Arthur had done something to earn such a prestigious title.

Alfred's parents greeted him with wide, forced smiles. It was a look Arthur was familiar with. Either they, like much of the Kingdom, weren't particularly fond of the Queen, or they only cared about seeing Alfred. Arthur wouldn't blame them much for either.

"Pleasure," he said glibly, shaking their hands in turn. He felt like an intruder in a reunion that wasn't supposed to happen.

"So, do you want to stay for dinner?" Alfred asked awkwardly, clearly unable to think of anything better to say.

The four of them sat in an uncomfortable silence that was broken only by the clinking of silverware. Alfred, out of nervous habit, somehow ate even more quickly than he usually did. This only served to leave him fidgeting in his seat while Arthur was still picking at his food and his parents were too absorbed in eat to hold a conversation.

"So," he said finally, breaking the painful silence. "What brings you two back to Spades? Taking a break from travelling?"

"Oh, no," his father said cheerily. "We were just passing through. We actually wanted to see you. Went to your military base and everything before we found out you moved here."

"Really?" Alfred asked, astonishment unmistakably tinged with hope.

"Yes. It really has been too long," his mother said.

"Well, you know you could have come visited whenever," Alfred said, slightly strained. "Did you visit Matthew, too?"

"Matthew?" his father asked blankly.

"Yeah. You know, your other son," he said disparagingly.

"Of course we know who Matthew is, don't be rude," his mother said shortly. "And we were planning to see him after we visited you."

"Yeah. Okay," Alfred said, clearly skeptical. "What are you two doing here?"

"Is it really so hard to believe we just came for a visit?" his father asked.

"Yes," he said curtly.

"Alfred Jones! Don't talk to your father that way!"

"We need money," his father interrupted. For a moment, no one said anything, the air permeated with shocked silence. Then, his mother sighed.

"What?" his father asked. Arthur could see where Alfred got his inability to read the atmosphere from.

"You couldn't just stick to the plan?" his mother said irritably.

"He wasn't buying it!"

"What do you mean, you need money?" Alfred interrupted.

"Your Grandparents' inheritance ran out," his mother said. "And you sold our house, so we need a place to stay."

Alfred gaped at her. "I didn't sell it! It was foreclosed, because you didn't pay the bills!"

"Are you going to help us or not?" she asked coldly. What wretched people, Arthur thought.

"Are you serious?"

"We're your parents," his father said. "You're not really gonna leave us to fend for ourselves, are you?"

Alfred said nothing for a minute, seething in hurt and anger. Finally, matching his mother's dismissive tone, he said, "You can have the money I was using to pay for the military. I don't need it now."

"We already used that," his mother said immediately.

Alfred stared at her. "You what!?"

"It wasn't like you needed it anyway."

"I was paying for food! And shelter! Of course I needed it!" Alfred shouted, shocked. How had they taken his money without him even noticing? Were they taking a little at a time? Which accounts did they have access to?

"Oh, calm down. We didn't take the last of it until you became King."

"Wh-How long have you known I'm King!?"

"Does it matter?" she asked tiredly.

Alfred was quiet for a moment before asking, "Have you been taking Matthew's money?"

"Of course not," his father said defensively.

"He's still in school, you know."

"We didn't take any of his money," his mother said.

"Because you didn't remember him," Alfred said, resigned.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Alfred," his mother said. Don't be so dramatic, the words of Arthur's father echoed in his head from so many months ago. How dare they talk to him that way, he thought.

Unlike Arthur, Alfred didn't lash out. He said nothing for a long moment, atmosphere tense and gaze icy. Finally, he said, "I can give you 500 marks. You can stay the night." He then turned to leave.

"Five hundred marks!?" his mother exclaimed, outraged. "That'll hardly last a month!"

"Then get a job," he said unsympathetically.

"How dare you? I didn't raise you to be this cruel!"

"You didn't raise me at all!" Alfred said, spinning around. The ice in his gaze was replaced with a fire fueled by years of neglect and resentment. Don't be so dramatic!? Shut up! How dare you? You vile piece of- SLAP! Arthur stood up abruptly, derailing this argument.

"Enough," he said, with years of mastered coldness. "Dinner is over."

Alfred seemed to snap out of it, giving Arthur an unreadable look as he collected himself. "You can stay the night," he said. "Leave in the morning. Don't come back, don't look for me, and don't visit Matthew."

"You're the King," his mother said. "You're the King, and all you're willing to give your parents is a measly 500 marks?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I'm going to bed. Show them to a guest room," he told a nearby guard. With that, he left.

"He really is a great man, you know," Arthur said conversationally, looking at the hall Alfred had disappeared down. He turned to look at Alfred's parents one last time. "He could have given you so much more than money. And you wouldn't have deserved any of it." Before they could respond, Arthur began walking briskly down the hall towards Alfred.

Arthur sat carefully on the bed next to Alfred. Alfred was hunched over, face in his hands. The Queen couldn't tell if he was crying or not. He was reminded of a similar situation from just a couple weeks ago.

"I can't believe I'm throwing my own parents out on the street," Alfred said painfully, still not looking up.

"You gave them a place to stay for the night and enough money for a hotel room." And that was far more than they deserved, Arthur thought.

"But they're my parents," Alfred groaned, lifting his head to stare at the ceiling. "And they're right. I am King. I could've-"

"You could've done a lot," Arthur interrupted. "You could have given them all the money they could ever need. Or you could've thrown them in jail. I'll admit, I was hoping for the latter." Arthur felt the weight in his chest lift slightly at Alfred's half-smile. "Besides, I personally think there are a lot better uses of the Kingdom's money than wasting it on those ungrateful pikeys."

Alfred sighed. "Yeah, I know. I just… I can't believe them!"

"They certainly have a lot of nerve," Arthur agreed."

"Ugh. I'll need to write Matthew, tell him to check his bank account."

They sat in comfortable, if slightly melancholic silence. "You know," Arthur said finally, gathering his courage. He never really was good at compliments. "They really don't deserve you." Alfred chuckled, an oddly self-depreciative sound coming from him.

"I'm serious! I don't know how two prats like that managed to produce something like you." Alfred's face softened, stress lines finally fading.

"You flatter me, Artie. And you know, you didn't come out too bad yourself, all things considered," he said. Arthur's blush deepened as Alfred kissed him on the cheek. He then reciprocated with a kiss to Alfred's forehead.

The rest of the night passed calmly, each monarch finding quiet comfort in the other's presence. Eventually, Alfred fell asleep, head resting on Arthur's chest and a hand carding through his hair.

A/N Finally, more outside conflict! Like I said, I wasn't really sure whether to include this one, but I wanted a chapter after Arthur and Alfred finally truly together. This is the first time they're fully, completely, unequivocally standing together. I'm not sure it really flows very well, but I tried.