WAR | Timothée Chalamet

10 | The Coronation

Y/N

_

"Are you willing to take this oath?"

The cold room seemed about as lifeless as the eyes of the people watching me. I was draped from head to toe in lavish garments, something I didn't feel I deserved.

My left hand was weighed down by a shiny, gold orb, and my right hand held a thin scepter.

In order to marry Timothée, I needed to become Queen. And since he was the only thing I had left, I decided to marry him. Even if he had lied to me.

"I am willing," I breathed, nodding my head.

I glanced to my left, where Timothée was standing, his hands behind his back. He had a crown sitting perfectly atop his curls, and his lips curled up into a smile when we locked eyes. I loved it when he smiled, but that wasn't enough to make me feel better.

While a crown was being placed on my head, I was still living with the fact that my city had been burned down in an act of war. But this could change all of that. Timothée and I could change all of it.

I stood up, balancing the jewels on top of my head, the orb and scepter taken from my hands.

"Long live the Queen," the people began to chant, thier voices echoing around the stone hall.

Timothée walked over to me, holding out his hand. I took it, our palms pressing together as he helped me down the stairs.

"Long live the Queen," they people yelled.

We walked down the aisle, my dress trailing along behind me. The boy squeezed my hand, rubbing his thumb against my skin.

"Are you okay?" I heard him whisper under his breath.

"Long live the Queen," the people continued.

I hesitated to answer, passing through the oak doors and being welcomed by a giant crown amassed in the courtyard. These weren't my people, yet I was now their Queen. I gulped, my cheeks tinted pink with fear.

"Yes.." I stuttered, "I'll be alright."

"You don't have to marry me if you don't want to," Timothée sighed.

He sounded hurt saying that, as if he didn't believe I truly loved him. I did. I really did love him, but I would be lying if I said that was the only reason I agreed.

"I want to marry you," I said, "I promise you that."

"Then why do you look scared?"

The cheering of the crowd below seemed to swallow me up. Long live the queen. Long live the Queen. Long live the Queen. The only presence I could feel was his. I couldn't even hear my own thoughts.

"I'm scared they'll hate me," I whispered, "I don't know the first thing about being a Queen."

"You have me," he said, "I'll stay beside you."

"But what if you hate me?"

"There wouldn't be anything you'd do to make me hate you."

I turned to look at him, his crown glinting off the sunlight. He was truly fit to be a King. I smiled, squeezing his hand back in response. A part of me found peace in his answer, knowing that even if all failed, he'd still be by my side.

Forever by my side.

_

"I think you're making the right choice," Arthur noted, pouring me a cold glass of milk.

I was sitting in the kitchen, while Ella undid the braids in my hair. After all the Coronation excitement, I felt like talking to my new friends would settle my nerves. The wedding was tomorrow, and every second was ticking closer to it.

"Choice in what?" I asked, taking the cup from his hands.

"In marrying the King," the boy nodded.

"I agree," Ella pitched in, running a brush through my knots, "he's very much taken by you."

"He is?" I laughed, setting the glass down, "I would hope so."

"There's no doubt about it, I heard some of the courtiers whispering about it."

"Whispering about what, exactly?"

Ella gave a quick glance at Arthur, before nodding her head quickly. It was like they had to make sure it was okay to tell me.

"The day you arrived, I heard he was fussing about in his room," she explained, "apparently he was obsessed over making sure everything was perfect for you."

"Perfect?"

"Yeah, he even bought a horse for you."

I widened my eyes, "was it a brown horse?"

Arthur looked up from the table, furrowing a brow.

"Yes, it was," he murmured, "how did you know that?"

"No reason," I said quickly, "just a guess."

"Hm."

After the coronation, the crown I was wearing was switched out for a simple tiara. I like it better anyways, seeing as it wouldn't fall off every time I twisted my head. I took it off and set it on the kitchen table, it's diamonds reflecting off the moonlight from the window.

"Perfect, huh?" I muttered to myself, "I feel honored that he cares for me so much."

At that exact moment, the kitchen door swung open, and Timothee's slim figure was shadowed in the doorway. Arthur and Ella turned their head, but quickly bowed when they saw who it was.

"Timothée?" I said, standing up, "you know you aren't supposed to see me on our wedding night."

"I need to speak with you," he nodded.

He waved his hands at the two bowing beside me, and stepped down the stairs quickly. He stopped in front of me, as if he had something to say, but he paused when he saw the tiara on the table.

"Why aren't you wearing your crown?" He mumbled, "is it too tight?"

"No, it's alright. It's almost midnight, I wanted to take it off."

He picked it up from the table, hanging it from his fingertips. He opened his mouth to say something else, but his eyes flickered over to where Arthur and Ella were standing.

"Can we go somewhere," he said, "alone?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing of that sort. just...please."

"Of course," I obliged, following him towards the steps.

Before I reached the hallway, I turned around and waved at my two friends.

"Goodnight," I nodded, "and thank you."

Turning my head, I followed after Timothée, not sure what he needed.

_

iI'm SO sorry I haven't updated this in a while, I was finishing up another book. 

but I'm back! hope you enjoyed this chap :)