It Was Enchanting To Meet You. || DNF

84. New king.

The next morning George was forced out of his bed too early for his liking, much to his discomfort. He was dragged through his royale routine with the help of the maids and soon enough, he was dressed nicely and looked appropriate enough to be crowned the new King.

He wore black dress pants, and black one-inch shoes to complement the former. A white button-up with a turtle neck hugged his body tightly under a clear corset which made every curve, perfection, and imperfection visible. There were small ruffles at the end of the sleeves as they covered the entire length of his arms. A vermillion-colored, soft cape hung from the golden buckles on his shoulder, grazing the floor he would walk along ever so slightly. His hair was parted and slicked to the sides neatly, but not too much to be seen as overdone. His makeup was lightly done, covering up the all too noticeable eyebags located under his eyes, and the sunburnt skin that lay upon his cheeks.

George exhaled sharply as he looked at himself in the large, body-viewed mirror, brushing down his shirt as if it would help him look any better than he already had. Right now, the boy was waiting to be called outside during the ceremony; only moments away from being the new leader of his father's former country. Eret was currently instructing everyone, giving the greetings and whatnot. The entire kingdom, along with the original people of the castle, had been invited to the said ceremony, and all the more people that came, all the more nervous George became.

Since Dream had been assigned as one of the official guards of the palace, he was soon put on duty, and, again, much to the brunette's discomfort, he wasn't going to see his blonde lover until after the ceremony, which made chills run up his spine. He wanted nothing more than for the taller to hold him with his large, calloused hands and tell him that everything would be okay— that he would be okay. In truth, while the taller had done that the morning that came, he still felt uneasy. However, ever since George was told that he would be the new King, he had a decision that he wanted to make, rampaging around in his mind.

He wanted to—

"George." A voice cut off his thoughts, and he soon figured out that the voice belonged to Eret. "It's time," the other declared, a warm smile on his face as he attempted to ease George's nerves, basically feeling the anxiety reeking off the Brit. George nodded once, allowing himself to be led by the shorter. Eret stopped behind the dull glass doors. Once they were opened, they would be on the large patio, the crowds below them like ants. George's hands began trembling as he clasped them together, but in that very moment, before he showed himself to the world, he made his split-second decision, knowing that deep down, even if he had some sort of doubt inside of him, it was the right choice.

Eret pushed open the doors for him and George emerged from behind the scenes, putting on a happy facade as he flashed a smile, showing his pearly white teeth. Some of his stress melted off his body as people cheered and screamed his name, but the boy paid no mind to it, looking for one, familiar face throughout the crowd of possibly hundredths of people. Finally, in the far corner of the courtyard, he spotted him. That tanned, freckled face that was smiling at him from afar, nothing but absolute admiration and love in his eyes. He gave George a thumbs up, winking before covering his eyes with his metal armor. George had to resist an eye roll, especially when so many pairs of eyes were on him.

"Good day, everyone!" he spoke bravely, a wide grin on his face because for once during the entire morning, his mind felt at ease. As George continued talking, the local priest from the church retrieved the crown which was passed down throughout the generations, worn by each and every king that has ever ruled the kingdom he stood before. Roars of excitement erupted from the mob of people as the said priest approached him, towering above him with a soft smile on his face. The local priest was a feeble, old man, but somehow he seemed to have more strength than anyone.

"Ahem," the priest cleared his throat, the chants soon dying down. "Here, we stand in the presence of none other than the Prince George. But, as of today, I present to you," he stated, carefully placing the crown atop George's fluffy curls.

"King George."

Bellows of happiness sounded from the citizens once more, and when George looked into the crowd, he saw Dream clapping, and the Brit just knew that he was probably wearing the stupidest, but cutest, crooked grin on his face, just like always. George tore his gaze away from the blonde boy, instead searching the crowd for a new familiar face.

His eyes landed on Wilbur.

The Head Hunter was wearing a happy smile, tears welling in his eyes as he clapped along with the others. In fact, he was smiling so brightly, it was enough for George to be blown away. The King waved at the crowd, a happy feeling swirling in his stomach. When the noise died down again, George had more to say.

"As much as I appreciate this, I— I just don't think I'm suited for it," George chuckled half-heartedly, gasps and whispers of confusion emitting from the crowds. Despite the tears that began to brim at George's eyes, he made eye contact with Wilbur, who seemed a little hurt and confused at his words. "But I do know someone who does. And I know he deserves this position more than anyone standing here today," George continued.

Wilbur's eyes widened at what George was implying, those brown eyes from up above boaring into him left no room for doubt or question.

"Wilbur, will you do me the honor and join me up here, please?" he asked, and Wilbur could feel his head spinning as he felt his feet moving below him, carrying him up onto the patio. The crowd remained silent, waiting for what was about to come next.

Tommy, however, who was standing next to Wilbur previously, couldn't control his tears. He clenched his fists into balls at the side of him, struggling to fight back the happy tears that dared to slip out.

When Wilbur was standing opposite George with agape lips, the latter nodded at him reassuringly, silently communicating that this is what he wanted; what he believed was right.

"Wilbur," George said the boy's name, but he was addressing the crowd. "The Wilbur that has saved and been here for this kingdom time and time again when Philza sat around doing nothing. The Wilbur that sent out search parties to look for me when I was away. The Wilbur who looked after everyone in this palace. The Wilbur who dedicated himself to the rights you individuals deserve," George strayed, glancing back at the taller.

"And the Wilbur that I crown the new and official King."

Wilbur opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, the tears that he was fighting came bleeding out like a reopened wound. The mob of people began screaming louder than before, clapping vigorously. Tommy's voice was heard among all the chaos, and Wilbur happily waved at him, the tears still coming for them both.

George removed the crown from his own head and, as Wilbur bowed down in respect, George placed the crown on his, delicate and careful, marking him the true king of the kingdom.

The crown was golden and sort of heavy, and the sparkly gems that each king left behind as a sign to continue their legacy shone in the lighting of the sun.

"Congratulations, Wilbur," George said, softly clapping. It wasn't rare for George to cry, but as another tear escaped those mocha-brown eyes, Wilbur couldn't have been happier.

~

I HAVE BEEN DYINGGGG TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER FOR SO LONG 😭😭 I'm so happy I finally got to omg I'm literally inlove with this one!

Anyways, sorry for the lack of updates, ITS FINALS AGAINN 😪😪

always rememberrrr...

Stay safe, stay gay <3