Our Fallen Kingdom {DNF}

Unconditional (Epilogue)

The wedding.

A defiance to ancient laws and a salute to those they lost.

A new era for all.

A lesson.

It doesn't matter who you love.

From the moment he saw him, George fell in love with Clay. He fell in love with the way he laughed, how he talked. The way he felt like a home away from, well, hell. How he felt safe with him, like nothing bad could ever occur when they were together.

It was the same for Clay, he fell in love with how George sounded and how he spoke with longer words the more stressed he got. Randomly singing sometimes when he's happy. How he clicked his tongue when he was annoyed. How his hands were always cold and he used that as an excuse to hold Clay's warm ones.

They both loved each other for a plethora of reasons but they didn't have to explain that to anyone.

Tragedy brought them together and nothing could tear them apart.

The King ended up following through with his promise, tearing the testimonies up and burning them on impulse. The kingdom's people could do nothing but agree, not that they'd contest to such a thing.

George and Clay were their best chance at improving their standards of living. New leaders, new laws.

George was appointed king the day after his 18th birthday, his father proudly stepping down from the throne. After all he'd done, it was the least he could do.

A resignation powered by grief and shame, but a resignation nonetheless.

Clay's father, Marlo, wasn't against their marriage, it was just new to him. The thought that Leila wouldn't become queen was odd, yet he didn't mind that Clay would be become king.

He was almost glad that his son could rule just like he once did.

Leila wasn't seen after the night Haitie died. Many believe she ran, shame and embarrassment driving her to leave. Driving her to hiding.

Everyone suspected she'd try her hardest to ruin the wedding.

Clay and George's wedding.

It was blue and white themed and absolutely beautiful.

Blue was both George's and Haitie's favourite colour.

They were married away from either castles, in the town over. In the field they once star gazed in. Field they danced in. Laughed in. Loved in.

The long grass was cut and platforms were put in place. Seat after seat was layed down for the abundance of people that wanted to watch the first gay marriage their history had ever seen.

It wouldn't be the last; George would make sure of it. He wants people to feel as free as he did when he was stood on the altar.

The makeshift wedding venue in this field was an open structure with a glass roof. The sun shone perfectly through, illuminating the ground ahead of him. There was ivy climbing up the pillars that supported the building and grass poking through the floor boards.

But George thought it looked pretty.

He'd walked up the paved aisle, holding the flower basket himself, blue tulip petals resting softly inside. His mother walking him, his father waiting in the front row.

His mind told him Haitie would be looking down on him, sprinkling her own heavenly petals. Smiling to herself. Encouraging him to keep going.

Softly sighing as she took in George's dress. How pretty it was. She'd be proud because she knew how much George wanted a dress, and to wear it in public? In front of all these people?

George has come so far.

Especially a dress so lacy and it just happened to be their favourite colour too. Haitie would've obsessed over the dress' train, how long it was and how she could probably roll herself up in it. She would've insisted George let her try it on despite it being many sizes too big.

And that's why today, George smiles.

She could've had a matching dress.

She would've been the prettiest flower girl there could ever have been.

He passes the basket to his brother, Edward, who's dressed rather smartly for the first time in years. He nods and gives him a friendly smile whilst George steps onto the platform in front of him.

He takes a second to realise where he is. He's in the field where he fell in love and he's marrying the love of his life in it. With hundreds of people watching. With royal soldiers littered evenly amongst the crowd. With his mother crying in the front row.

Without his best friend. Without Haitie.

But as soon as he sees his love walk through the door, the tightness in his chest fades away. The words in his head dissapate. He's calmed.

The blonde looks a little dishevelled, like he'd forgotten something and had to run back. Like he'd struggled to fasten his belt or tie his shoes. He continues struggling as all eyes turn to him and George can't help but smile.

Clay takes a second to straighten himself out and began to walk down the aisle alone. Only to be stopped by George's mother.

She quickly makes her way to his side and whispers to him, "You're my son now too, I'll walk with you."

To which Clay nodded softly, holding in whatever sadness had just hit him. They were family. His mother would be so proud of him.

The walk was way slower then Clay realized and he almost burst out laughing at the sheer amount of people staring at him right now. They were all watching him walk. George caught his eye and he stifled a laugh with a subtle cough.

Their eyes stayed locked on eachother as Kala's grip loosened on Clay's arm. George's look told Clay that he couldn't be happier, that this was everything he wanted. As he stepped onto the platform with George, his heart shattered.

Not in a way that he was torn apart, but in a way that he couldn't contain all his feelings and it felt like they'd all burst.

Just happiness. Pure joy. Love.

Ecstasy.

The priest read the vows, George reciting his lines and Clay perfectly saying his. Though they stumbled a little whilst saying the "I do' s", a mix of tears and dry throats prohibiting their ability to talk.

"You may now kiss the groom."

And they did, softly. It was short and sweet, they didn't want to give the crowd a show tonight. Merely insight to this very important part of their lives.

The part where they rule the world. Together.

The part where they duel together, rule together and live together until the day they die.

They love together, breathe together, eat together.

Clay doesn't go where George won't follow and that's exactly how they wanted to live.

As the first dance commenced, cheers, laughter and even some tears erupted from the crowd surrounding.

George rested his head against Clay's chest, the soft beating of his heart being heard through layers of clothing. A wide smile and delicate kisses on the top of his head told him they'd made it.

Together.

They whispered their 'i love yous' and exchanged little murmurs of their favourite memories. All whilst swaying softly on a hardwood dance floor.

By the last step, people were bawling, joining in. Holding their lovers like never before.

Freedom for them is freedom for all.

Clay looked at George like he'd never seen anything so beautiful. So happy, in this moment with him. His huge smile, his pretty dress. How he looks up at Clay so lovingly.

All of it.

He couldn't love someone more.

And he couldn't be happier that this small, brunette boy fell in some mud all that time ago.