Taking Chances - Part One

Taking Chances

The Wedding

Arthur Kirkland feared for his sanity. He'd spent a month worth of late nights and early mornings to make sure that everything was positively perfect. It wasn't that Arthur needed help. He knew he could handle things perfectly well on his own. Truthfully it was probably easier this way.

Now as Arthur stood in his private quarters, he couldn't help but begin to feel nervous. What if something went wrong? That was a foolish thought though. He knew everything would run smoothly. Arthur hadn't spent all those hours working on this for nothing.

His wedding day.

More importantly, the day of his coronation.

The bloody wedding had to come first though.

"Your highness, you're fidgiting, is there something I can help you with?" one of his faerie friends asked him. Her wings sparkled in the light from the candelier over their heads. Her pink dress swayed when she sat down on top of the mirror that Arthur was currently examining himself in.

She was right; he was fidgiting. His hands were tugging insistantly at his sleeves. Coming before him, she smiled lightly. She straightened out the fabric along both of his shoulders. She proceeded to straighten out his bowtie.

"You look wonderful, your highness."

He tried to return her smile but failed. "What if he doesn't like me?" Arthur finally managed to ask. Had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have uttered a single word about his own insecurities. It wasn't that he cared or anything! He was less than pleased with his choice in husband. A peasant from the outskirts of the kingdom, the soon-to-be-king was not fit for his soon-to-be position. Of that, Arthur was certain.

Not that it was his choice.

Both the king and queen were chosen by a council upon the death of the previous monarch. Normally both were chosen from different royal families, one of which Arthur belonged to. Something about the soon-to-be king had caught the council's eyes in some way though.

"He'll love you, your highness," she assured him. Arthur wished he could share even half of her confidence in that. While he kept telling himself he didn't care what Alfred F. Jones - the future king - thought, he knew he did. This was the man he'd be spending the rest of his life with, like it or not. "How could he not adore you?"

Arthur knew many reasons why Alfred Jones wouldn't like him. One of those many reasons being his gender not to mention his not entirely pleasant personality. None of those reasons were things he wanted to dwell on at the moment. He forced himself to smile at her. "I'm sure you're right."

The door opened, and he knew it was time to leave. Smoothing out his purple sleeves on last time, Arthur went to meet his brother at the door. "Well, don't you just look pretty?" the oldest of the Kirkland sons smirked. "Everyone will be so jealous." He made to ruffle his brother's hair, but Arthur stepped out of range of the offending hand.

"Let's just go." Arthur stepped around Angus to make his way to the awaiting ceremony. It really was no surprise to anyone why the youngest of the Kirkland's had been chosen as the Queen of Spades. He was much better mannered than his brothers. "I'd hate to be late for my own wedding."

Angus just snorted and followed him lazily. The closer they came to the castle's chapel the louder the music became. Arthur had insisted upon having Roderich Edelstein as the pianist even if he was the Jack of Clubs, a rival kingdom that the Spades didn't entirely get along with. As Arthur heard the music coming forth into the hall, he was quite glad that he had insisted.

Arthur shuddered nervously while Angus prodded him up the isle toward the alter. The minister waited patiently for him to arrive. The crowded room turned to stare as he held his head high to step up beside Alfred on the alter. The boy really could clean up when he wanted.

Only once had the two of them met since before this moment. They hadn't actually had a moment to speak and Alfred had still been in the clothes of a peasant. Now however, he was garbed in the royal blue silks only fitting for the King of Spades. He was actually quite handsome.

A twitch of the hand informed Arthur that, just maybe, Alfred was as nervous as he was. Said thoughts were confirmed when Alfred took Arthur's ring from his brother and slipped it onto Arthur's finger, hand positively quaking. Despite that, he was smiling brilliantly, teeth flashing in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

The thoughts became even more solid when Alfred laid a trembling hand against his cheek. Though his hand shook it was authoritive in pulling Arthur closer. Arthur was a bit taken aback by the sudden gain of control on Alfred's part, and after only a moment's hesitation he allowed himself to be drawn closer.

Gentle lips touched his and while it had been expected it still surprised Arthur who jerked somewhat in surprise causing their noses to collide rather painfully. Alfred cooped with the situation rather well, pressing his lips to Arthur's forehead instead.

Years of practice allowed Arthur to keep his embarrassed blush at bay while they were quickly ushered into the throne room for their coronation. It was a rather large bustle of transition but that was to be expected really.

"Artie, hey, Artie," Alfred whispered urgently at him. "Are you nervous?" Maybe Alfred was more unsettled than Arthur had given him credit for during the previous ceremony. Now that the two of them were alone - waiting for their cue to enter the throne room - Alfred didn't bother keeping his nervous nature in control. There was the humble farm boy Arthur had first met.

Arthur didn't bother to correct the atrocious name Alfred had graced him with. It would be both cruel and probably not the best idea to snap at the man who was soon to be the most powerful in the Kingdom of Spades.

Instead he straightened Alfred's tie as was part of his new duties and patted his chest gently. Alfred was strong, the simple touch told him that much. He had to be given that his profession of choice before a month ago had been that of a poor farmer. His tanned skin told Arthur he'd already spent many of his days out in the sunny fields.

"It's not becoming fo royalty to be nervous," Arthur told his newly wedded husband.

"Do you like it?"

"Like what, your majesty?"

"First of all, 'your majesty'? Really? Eww. I'm just Alfred, okay?" He smiled brightly at Arthur. "Do you like the ring?" He was gazing at Arthur with such a hopeful expectance in his eyes. "I mean, I know it's not exactly customary for the king to chose the ring. Normally the best man or Jack or someone does it, but I actually wanted some thought put into it."

Arthur looked down to finger the gold band lightly. Small spades and hearts had been carved into the gold. The ring felt odd on his finger. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable though.

"That was...thoughtful of you, Alfred." The other smiled happily at the compliment. He grabbed ahold of Arthur's hand and kissed it lightly. A surprised smile crept onto Arthur's lips without his bidding. "Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it. It took me forever to pick one I liked, then I had to have it specially engraved. I thought Mattie was going to go crazy and kill me." Alfred chuckled. "Well, time to go." He held out his arm with a smile.

Surprised to find Alfred was right, he took Alfred's offered arm. The song announcing their arrival had begun. Alfred smiled at him with a hint of nervousness. "You're doing fine, Alfred." Arthur patted his hand.

"I promise I'll be the best king Spades has ever seen," Alfred promised in a whisper as they made their way toward their throne. Arthur allowed his emerald eyes to wander discreetly over Alfred for a moment.

The blond walked with an air of confidence. It was complyetely different form the authority with with Arthur walked. Alfred practically oozed charisma and the light in his cerulean eyes showed that perhaps Alfred meant what he said and would see it through. Alfred was steadfast and confident as he made his vows to hold the welfare of the Spades Kingdom above everything else. Soon everyone as clapping as the two stood before their nation. Alfred took Arthur's hand, eyes flashing excitedly.

Maybe this wouldn't be too bad.

TCTC

"How is the food, your majesty?" Arthur's father, Henry, asked Alfred from across the table. Arthur had appointed his father as head of the food for the day. Periodically he was forced to the back room to check on the state of things. Not that Henry seemed to mind. Actually, he seemed at his happiest when he was given the excuse to leave the party for his food.

"Great!" Alfred exclaimed though it came out much more muffled than that. That was caused by the fact that Alfred's mouth was stuffed with food. Arthur scowled in disgust at the terrible eating habit.

Arthur leaned toward his husband. "Ask me to dance," he whispered a tad urgently. People were beginning to stare at the King with his odd eating habits. "Your majesty, ask me to dance." He glared somewhat in demanding while Alfred hardly glanced up from his intense eating session.

"Artie, I'm eating." Or at least, that's what Arthur assumed he was saying. It was rather hard to tell. "Later." The single word came out clear when Alred cleared his airway enough to speak plainly.

Arthur pursed his lips in irritation. "You can have all the food you want for the rest of your life. When this night is over we'll never be able to have it back."

"Call me by my name."

Arthur bawked. "What?"

"Call me by my name, and I will."

"You're majesty, that's wildly -"

"Artie?"

"What, Alfred?" Arthur growled it out, quietly of course. He refused to make eye contact with his husband. He would never willingly admit that he was a tad embarrassed.

Somewhere in his sudden self-hatred he'd failed to notice Alfred stand. "Arthur, would you care to join me for a dance?" He held out his hand and smiled brightly.

"Why, thank you, your majesty, I would be honoured." He forced a smile and went to take Alfred's hand, but it had vanished. "Your majesty? Is there something wrong?"

"Will you just stop with the whole, 'your majesty' thing?"

"It's only proper -"

"I don't care what's proper! As king, I order you to stop!" If the expression on Alfred's face was any indication, he was simply trying to be playful. It didn't make Arthur any less angry though. He had never really had someone flaunt their power over him. Noticing the disgruntled look on Arthur's face, Alfred quickly began to backpedal over his previous statement. "Hey, Artie, I didn't -"

Arthur stood to silence him. All thoughts of distracting Alfred from the meal was discarded. Let the fool embarrass himself. It was almost a surprise the peasant hadn't done so already. Well, other than the bit of staring he'd recieved. "I need a bit of air."

"Artie."

"It's just a bit of air."

"Hey, look, I'm -"

He didn't allow Alfred to finish before weaving his way to the balcony. He knew it was incredibly rude of him, but, well, Alfred wasn't exactly being the most polite man in the room either. "Your highness, is there something I can get for you?"

The Jack was waiting outside the door almost as if he'd expected to meet Arthur there. "No, I just came to...think, I suppose."

"You call for me if you need anything, your highness," the Jack told him as the man exited the balcony. "Don't stay outside for too long."

Arthur stepped up to the railing and looked out over the edge. Had it not been terribly improper, he would have abandoned his shoes and sat up upon the railing. Lake waters lapped against the grassy shored beneath his feet, disturbed by the birds that decided to land upon its surface.

"You're really pretty when you actually smile." Arthur turned so quickly his neck burned painfully at the motion. His accusing eyes turned on Alfred but before he could say anything Alfred had pressed a small wrapped gift into his hands. "I wasn't sure when to give it to you." Alfred scratched the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle.

Arthur was quite taken aback. Not only had Alfred chosen his ring personally, he'd also bought a gift. "That's terribly...thoughtful of you, Alfred," and while Arthur stumbled over using the other's christian name, Alfred smiled happily.

Carefully Arthur pulled the ribbon to open the lid to the box. "Do you like it?" Alfred asked almost anxiously.

"Alfred..."

"Aww, you hate it!"

"No! Alfred, it's lovely." He pulled the gold pocketwatch from the fluffy cushion. Arthur swiped his thumb over the engraved spade on the front. "It was terribly thoughtful of you," Arthur repeated. Using his empty hand he struggled to attach the end to the fabric of his clothes.

"Oh, hey, let me help you!" Alfred exclaimed. Arthur allowed Alfred to tug the pocket watch out of his hand to promptly attach it to his waistcoat. Arthur resisted the urge to blush whenever Alfred's hand lightly ghosted over his skin. In actuality it seemed to do so much more than nessessary.

When he'd finished, Alfred allowed his hand to travel lightly down to Arthur's hip. "Would you be kind enough to join me for a dance, Arthur?" The King was smiling though it was a bit nervously. He seemed to expect an immediate rejection.

"I'd love to, Alfred." He'd be spending the rest of his life with this man; was it realy worth it to fight at every turn? That wasn't even to mention that Alfred appeared to genuinely be trying to make things work, or he was trying to be somewhat civil. He deserved a bit of a reward for his efforts.

However, minutes later found Arthur not dancing with Alfred but with one of Alfred's friends. Actually, it was Alfred's brother Matthew, Ace of Spades. While they looked alike it wasn't the same as dancing with one's own husband. Arthur quickly excused himself back to his throne.

Alfred attempted to join him a few minutes later, but Arthur purposely stood and left the King alone. Had he not needed to keep up appearances he would have excused himself entirely from the party. Arthur carefully evaded Alfred for the rest of the night. Whenever Alfred came within five feet of him Arthur cleverly slipped back into the crowd to leave a frustrated Alfred searching for him through the crowd.

"You should stop avoiding him." Arthur would have started at the voice had the room been significantly quieter. Smoke furled up lazily into the night air, winding its way through Angus' thick red hair.

"I don't know what you're referring to, Angus. No, not now," he replied when his brother offered him a cigarette. Angus simply shrugged and leaned back against the balcony's pillar. Arthur came to stand beside him even though he wasn't quite the company the queen should be seen with even if they were part of the same family.

Angus had been raised in the same family of high class as Arthur, but Angus hardly looked the part as Arthur did. Angus took a long dreg on his cigarette. "Suit yourself."

"What are you still doing here, Angus? I would have thought you'd be long gone by this time." Arthur crossed his arms and followed Angus' eyes into the ballroom and across the floor. They landed on Alfred trying to slip through the crowd as effortlessly as Arthur had. Both his height and higher ranking was giving him trouble accomplishing his task.

"You expect me to give up a night of free drinks?" Angus held up his empty glass in toast. "To your failing marriage." He set it back down with a crash on the empty banister.

Arthur glared indignantly. "What do you mean by 'failing'?"

"Will you be sleeping together tonight?" Angus asked bluntly. When he didn't recieve an answer, he barrelled on. "You probably won't even be in his bed. That is what I mean by a failing marriage." Angus tossed his cigarette to the ground and extinguished it harshly beneath his shoe.