Epilogue

The Knight and the Prince

Once upon a time, there lived a rather moody prince. But even though he could be bloody hard work sometimes, there was a knight who loved him very much. And even though the prince thought he was a fucking idiot sometimes, he loved him very much too. They got very angry with each other at times, but they always made up and had fantastic sex afterwards and it was all good. Everyone in the kingdom was excited on their wedding day, mostly because it was a good excuse to party. (Well, not quite everyone – the prince's brother was less than thrilled, but he was a twat and no-one really cared what he thought anyway, apart from his fiancée.)

The knight stood in the Great Hall, anxiously waiting for the prince to appear.

"Nervous?" asked the knight's manservant.

(Well, actually, he was his ex-manservant. He'd now left the knight's employment and was working in the Camelot-based retail outlet of Superdrug.)

"I am literally shitting myself," said the knight.

"Literally? Because that could be dysentery."

"No, not literally, that's gross. I'm just – I'm freaking out a bit here, okay."

"You're not having second thoughts?"

"What? No! Fuck no. What do you take me for? Do you think I don't love him? Is that it? Because –"

"Dude, take a chill pill! What's making you so weird?"

The knight sighed.

"I'm scared I'm going to do something wrong. Something always goes wrong. I just want our marriage to start well!"

"It will. Calm down. Listen to some whale songs or something."

"I'm about to get married! I can't just whip out my ipod!"

"Okay, just, I don't know, breathe into a paper bag?"

"I don't have a paper bag! Who brings a paper bag to their wedding?"

"Are you alright?" asked the king.

"Fine," said the knight unconvincingly, "It's all fine. Fine."

The king frowned.

"You're not having second thoughts?"

"Oh my God! Why is everyone saying that? Do all of you doubt me? Am I not good enough for him? I just want to make him happy! Fuck my life! Oh –"

"Sweetheart, you're ranting," said the ex-manservant.

The king gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder.

"I was worried on my wedding day too, son. Though that was mostly because I didn't want anyone to notice the bride was up the duff."

"I don't think your son's pregnant, your highness," said the ex-manservant.

"You never know," said the king, narrowing his eyes at the knight, "You never know."

"You're joking, right?" said the knight, "Please say you're joking."

"Well…"

"I'm not ready to be a father! I don't even know if I'm ready to be a husband! Oh God!"

"Pull yourself together!" said the ex-manservant, slapping him in the face.

The knight took a deep breath.

"Okay. Okay, I can do this."

At that moment, the prince arrived, which was just as well, because his future husband would probably have gone into meltdown if he'd had to wait much longer. Seeing as the king would be conducting the marriage ceremony, the prince's brother was giving him away, albeit rather reluctantly. (The prince hadn't been too big on being the bride at first, until everyone pointed out how much he screamed in bed and he kind of saw where they were coming from.) The little princess walked in front of them, carrying a bunch of flowers which thankfully no-one was allergic to. The knight looked behind him and was rewarded with a smile from the prince and princess, and a scowl from their brother.

"I have been stressing out so much," he said as the prince reached him, taking his hands.

"You're not having second thoughts?" asked the prince's brother.

"If one more person asks me that, I swear to God –"

"Just making sure," said the prince's brother, squinting at him.

The knight gripped the prince's hands a bit too tightly.

"Are you okay? You're not pregnant, are you?"

"Are you saying I'm fat?"

"No, just –"

"Dearly beloved," the king began loudly before his future son-in-law could embarrass himself further.

"You're going to be fine," the prince whispered as his father continued with the ceremony, saying something about unions and love that was probably full of innuendos.

"How do you know?" the knight whispered back, still panicky, "Have you done this before?"

"If that is a serious question I will punch you in the face."

"Please don't do that again. You bitched for hours about how much your hand hurt."

"You have a hard face."

"Yeah, I can't just keep ramming it into your fist like that."

"It was your fault anyway for not telling me where our honeymoon is."

"That's the whole idea of a surprise, darling."

The prince put a finger to the knight's lips.

"Hush. We're getting married."

"… And as Camelot thrusts deeply into a new age," the king concluded, "So will these two people thrust into each other's lives. May the unyielding firmness of their love spill over this great kingdom and fill us all for many years to come."

The prince's brother handed over the rings, though he didn't look all that thrilled about it. The rings had been forged by the royal smith, combining the royal crest with the knight's coat of arms in the detailing. The prince frowned as he noticed something else inscribed on the inside of his ring. It was a tiny picture of a leaping wolf. He smiled quietly to himself. The vows were simple; the same vows that the king and queen had made to each other twenty years ago: "In war and in peace, in youth and in old age, in victory and in defeat, in plenty and in need."

"It gives me great pleasure," said the king, "To pronounce you legally wedded."

The Great Hall packed full of people clapped and cheered, and the knight could only smile stupidly at the man who was now his husband.

"Well, go on," said the king, nudging him, "Give him a snog!"

The knight pulled the prince close and kissed him, warm and open and more than a little relieved that the difficult part was over.

"Sayest thine 'cheese'!" said the prince's cousin, popping up with a camera that was probably pointed in the wrong direction.

(He really didn't understand technology – it was like he was living in the Dark Ages or something.)

"Okay, guys," said the prince's brother, "You can stop making out now, there are children about. Keep it family-friendly."

It was only then that the knight realised he was groping his husband's arse. He pulled away, taking the prince's hand.

"Shall we?"

The prince smiled and the knight led him out of the Great Hall, into the crowded courtyard, full of people excited about the royal wedding – or, more accurately, the free alcohol that came with it.

"Surely now you can tell me where our honeymoon is?" said the prince.

"We won't be going for a while yet. We've got to have the reception first."

"I'm your prince, I can order you if I want to. You are beneath me."

"I prefer it when you're beneath me, darling."

"Tell. Me."

The knight smiled slyly.

"I hear Zenith is lovely this time of year."

So, the upshot of it was, the prince and the knight had a very memorable honeymoon in Zenith, which consisted mostly of bumping into the nobles the knight had slept with in order to become a knight, thereby making the prince jealous enough that he dragged the knight to bed and made him swear he was his quite a lot. (If he didn't know better, he'd have said that was the knight's plan all along. He certainly wasn't complaining about the jealousy sex.) Anyway, they came home in time for the prince's brother's wedding, which was a considerably quieter affair, although they may have possibly got a bit drunk and started grinding towards the end of the evening.

It was the start of their marriage, the start of their lives together. And even though there had been a lot of cock-ups along the way, and even though they still sometimes got angry with each other, they did truly love one another, and that was all that mattered.

Needless to say, they all lived very happily ever after.