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Chapter Text

An ear shattering, familiar chime of a bell cut through his dream. It was one filled with long nights of dancing and candle light dinners where Eggsy was whisked away by a man who wore white with soft blue trim in a beautifully crafted outfit. One where all reality slipped away, stripped bare, and he was left with an enchanting summer night with someone so incomprehensibly beautiful; it stunned Eggsy.

But dreams of that were for people worthy of them, at least that’s what he’s been told numerous times by his step father, Chester. Eggsy emerged from the floor, his soot covered, tattered blanket fallen to the side as he does, and goes about his morning; ignoring the constant shrill of bells coming from the sleeping quarters of the home. He hummed to himself as he gathered the few eggs out of the coop, gave a soft little thank you to the chickens that provided breakfast for ungrateful men, and set out to prepare the meal.

While the eggs are poaching, Eggsy goes about feeding various animals within the confines of the small kitchen. JB being the first, but he had to wake the little potato first. He snuffed and grumbled a bit in his sleep from a dream before coming to and giving Eggsy a few licks.

“Morning,” he said softly before going back about to open the doors. He loved the smell of spring in the morning, all crisp and soft where the dew hadn’t dried on the grass and the sun was just warming the earth.

It was a beautiful day, one not often seen in London, but more so than not Eggsy enjoyed the country air. How it carried just a bit more sunshine than anywhere else and even if he wasn’t mounting Buttercup, one of the few horses they still possessed, he could revel in the bright, warm sunshine that beamed through and coaxed a smile on his face. He tried each day to find good in all, good in the day and the ones he was surrounded by. Even when sour faces and attitudes threatened to dampen his mood. Eggsy had long since brushed off Chester and his brood, Charlie and Digby - the twins. The two most single handedly spoiled men Eggsy had ever met, if you could even consider them men, that is.

Charlie often went about stomping his boot covered feet along the halls if Chester denied him a new tie and jacket, more times than not leaving Eggsy to sweep and mop the floors after the dried mud was scattered along the hardwoods and carpet. He supposed that’s what happened when you had money, or at least enough to live a little above their small farm house tucked away in the countryside. Chester never really did enjoy it, but Eggsy was certain he married his mum for the money and nothing more.

It wasn’t that they had a lot, just enough to be comfortable and the pension given to them from his dad’s passing was enough to see them through. Even if Eggsy wanted to go off and obtain a higher education for himself. But those were, again, dreams for people worthy of them. He tried so hard to dispel the sour feeling churning in his stomach from the notion, because his mother always tried to instill a good heart and kind outlook on life in Eggsy and it had worked. It was there but hard to hold onto when others - who were seemingly below him in terms of grace and overall demeanor towards the world - constantly reminded you that you were without parents, without love.

Eggsy yearned for love, for any sort of acceptance that was outside of these walls. A place that he considered home once upon a time. One that had housed love. Housed two people who came together during the heat of war and as a result of their love made a baby boy. Which both loved unconditionally and showed him nothing but care and kindness. Qualities that they instilled into him and he still carried even now that both were gone and Eggsy was left with three people who were the result of a desperate marriage, because apparently his mother had needed to wed for finances, even when Eggsy swore he’d go work in town and take over the budget.

His mum had just smiled, cupped his face, and gave him a soft kiss on the nose like she often did and said it wasn’t a child’s place to worry. Even though Eggsy was far from a child and growing into manhood at the age of 16. They had tried to get by without his dad and it was fine for the first 5 years, but she insisted she needed a husband to tend the land.

Eggsy said he could tend the land.

It was neither here nor there, because she had fallen ill just 7 years after wedding Chester, of something none of the doctors could explain.

“Wot do you mean no cure?!” Eggsy asked, a harsh whisper because his mum was just on the other side of the door resting. “There ain’t nothing in that little satchel of yours? I’ve been giving her anything to take down the fever. All of our herbal teas, salves, even some of them tablets my dad used to keep for emergencies and ain’t nothing worked!” He was tired, above all else, worried and worn down because his mother’s husband has been less than helpful.

All he’s done is run around the house talking about how his wife is dying and Eggsy ain’t going to listen to that. His mum isn’t dying. Eggsy ain’t going to be without her, he refused to believe it.

The doctor just shook his head, old brown eyes creased with despair, sympathy for Eggsy wrinkled his face.

“I’ve left some medication, it may not take the fever away but it will help with the aches and pains. Use it at your discretion, but I advise a drop just under her tongue once an hour.” He placed a wrinkled pale hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, before he said, “I wish I had a different answer, Eggsy. Your mother is a wonderful woman.”

Warm tears fill his eyes before falling to coat his cheeks. He tried to find comfort in the soft words the doctor murmured, something about calling if ever they needed anything and Eggsy thought he needed a cure, but knew that wasn’t going to happen. Eggsy went to pay the man, but all he got was a slow shake of head before he departed through the front door.

He stood there for a long moment before Chester brushed past him with his faux tears, shoulder bumped his with a low grumble that his mum wanted him. Eggsy pulled himself together long enough to go forward and through the door to her room. It wasn't her’s and Chester’s no more, just her’s, and Eggsy was grateful it was his parent’s original room. Eggsy sat next to her, just on the edge of the mattress, and gathered her cold, clammy hands in his two.

“Hi mum,” he smiled.

Her bright blue eyes shone just a fraction of the shimmer they once held but more so than the past few days as she cupped his cheek with a hand she’d worked out of his grasp.

“Eggsy, my Eggsy,” she whispered, voice weak and caught in her throat. “You remember all those things your father and I taught you?” Eggsy nodded his head, all of his attempts to will his tears away were useless as they spilled over. “Hold onto them, even when life tries to deter you away. You’re so special, so much love and kindness in you even past what we’ve tried to teach you.”

He hated that she spoke like she wasn't here anymore; his heart hurt. “Mum,” Eggsy whispered. It was a low wet sound.

“I love you, Eggsy. Even when I can’t be here to tell you that, okay? Your father and I love you so much.”

“Yeah, I know, mum.” He took in a few ragged breaths before settling into the crook of her neck to inhale the soft rose scent of the perfume his dad had always bought her, and Eggsy made sure she had a bottle of each year on their wedding anniversary after his death. He had never stopped purchasing them even when she married Chester.

Eggsy wiped at his eyes roughly, it did him no good to get somber about it now, because Chester would only chastise him for weeping. Something about men not crying, and what a bunch of bollocks that were, but Eggsy wouldn’t give the man the satisfaction of teasing him. He squared his shoulders as he took a tray and loaded it with his breakfast, the twins’ breakfast, and 3 pots of tea with cups for them.

If he was lucky he’d get a few slices of bread before tending to the stables and the bit of land they still owned. Because once Chester had blown through the bit of money they had saved, they had needed to sell off some land to pay taxes and Eggsy wondered how’d they fare this year. He shrugged the anxiety off and remembered what his mum always used to say, things always worked out.

---

But no one said what worked out was easy, as Eggsy held onto the reins of Buttercup; he wasn’t going to let her go.

“No. She is the only one I have left from my dad’s.” Lee Unwin had owned 4 horses and she was the only one Eggsy had hung onto, outside of the few horses that actually belonged to Chester. Mainly because she was a gift to him on his 10th birthday, and no fucking way would Eggsy part with her.

Chester stood, a buyer just behind him, and was prepared to separate Eggsy and the mare.

Eggsy stroked her fawn colored mane in an attempt to soothe her. The agitation was high around them; both on his account and Chester’s impatience with Eggsy. If he hadn’t wandered out with JB when he did they would have loaded her up and taken her away. He had just stepped out for fresh air, wanting to explore the small grounds and play a game of fetch with the tiny sack Eggsy had made for JB. He had a few dried beans and rice leftover, so he had created a makeshift toy, not being able to afford one himself.

“Move boy,” Chester growled. “We don’t sell her then we don’t have a place to live.” He had a point, no matter how much Eggsy hated it.

He looked into her big brown eyes, a plea in them and Eggsy could swear she begged to be kept. He didn’t want to sell her, she was one of the few things he still had from his parents, JB included, along with the little photos and pendants he had kept stashed away in the attic. Once his mum was gone Chester had gone through and rid the house of anything that once contained memorabilia of Lee or his parents marriage in general. Eggsy had salvaged what little he could and never told them. Not like they’d go in the attic anyway, they had Eggsy for that.

So, at least they were safe.

“Father!” Came Charlie’s frantic voice as he ran through the field and into the stable. “This letter came,” he informed Chester. “Just delivered by Royal messengers,” Charlie whispered harshly.

Eggsy watched Chester snatch it from his son, maybe it was an eviction notice, or who knew, but as Chester’s eyes lit with hope, wonder, and something else; Eggsy figured otherwise.

“A Ball!” Chester exclaimed. Whatever small little hope Eggsy had before bled out of him.

He gave Buttercup a kiss to her snout before pressing his cheek there. They wouldn’t be able to hold onto her and he knew it. As Eggsy went to hand her off, his step father surprised him as he held a hand up.

“We won’t be selling her...today,” Chester added with a sneer, just to watch Eggsy’s shoulder’s drop. “It appears the Prince of Scotland is having trouble finding a suitable partner for marriage, and they are holding a masquerade ball here in London at the Palace. The King is hopeful that a change of scenery will help and all eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, are to attend.”

Eggsy perked up a bit, but curtailed it as much as possible. He knew Chester would find a reason to deny his excitement.

“This could be our ticket, Father,” Digby said a bit out of breath from just having run up. “We need to be well groomed, and dressed in the finest Bespoke suits with the best handmade masks.” Eggsy refrained from snorting. No amount of grooming or expensive clothes would make those two marriage worthy, especially to a Prince.

From what Eggsy gathered this Prince was picky, whether for the right reasons or not; he was sure Charlie and Digby would be the last on the list.

“When is the ball?” The buyer asked. “If it turns out you still need me to purchase the mare, I will gladly come back.” Eggsy ground his teeth.

Chester read the letter again. “In a fortnight, and I assure you one of my son’s would be suitable, if not both, for the Prince,” he huffed, a bit put off. Eggsy enjoyed how the other man rolled his eyes.

“As you wish Mr. King. I will be in touch.” They were swiftly left alone. Chester and his two boys chattered together acting like Eggsy couldn’t hear, or perhaps they hoped he didn’t catch wind about how one of the twins would be married off to the Prince; or so they hoped. Eggsy tried hard to keep to himself and take care of Buttercup, who seemed to visibly relax now that she didn't need to leave with that man.

“Come on girl.” Eggsy coaxed her into the stable, fetched her fresh water and more hay before regretfully bringing his attention to his step father, who had come forward a bit.

Chester smiled, a sly slimy thing that crawled up Eggsy’s spine and settled poorly in the pit of his stomach.

“It seems the boys will be in need of their best clothes washed, pants, socks, and shoes polished.” Eggsy wanted to demand why, but King continued on. “The house needs to be cleaned from top to bottom and done better than the piss poor job you have been doing. I have done a few white glove inspections and I am less than satisfied with my findings.” He advanced until Eggsy’s back pressed against the closed stable door. “And you will not be seen and not be heard once one of my sons accepts a marriage proposal by the Prince.” Eggsy snickered a bit, but held his tongue.

It would do him no good to mouth off. Chester stopped at the door as they readied to exit the stables and turned back to Eggsy.

“Oh, and don’t worry, we will convince the Prince to bring you on as staff.” Eggsy waited until he was sure Chester and the boys were out of ear shot, before he ran out the back and let out a scream.

Eventually he found himself seated on a bolder next to a small pond just beyond the borders of what was left of their land. A spot he’d come to with his dad as a lad, and then often when he was troubled through his teenage and early adulthood. He played the exchange over and over in his head as a few warm tears trailed down his face and fell into the pond. Life was cruel and Eggsy wondered what he must have done in a past life to deserve this.

After what Chester said, Eggsy knew he’d never be allowed at that ball, no matter if it mandated every eligible bachelor to attend. King would find a way around it. He sat for a while longer, it was nearly sunset when he heard the angered shouts for him from the house.

A few more tears slipped off of his face and into the water before Eggsy wandered off. What he didn’t see as he left was a sparkly, shimmering blue light spread through the pond with the last teardrop.

Chapter Text

“What do ye mean he is ill suited, Sebastian?” Merlin wondered tiredly, for what seemed like the 100th time in just 2 short days. “His schooling is impeccable, not as good as yours of course, but no reason he is not a suitable match to help ye rule.”

Percival coughed beside Sebastian to coax an answer out of him. “I don’t want to rule Father,” Sebastian groaned. “And I certainly do not want to marry for such. You may have done it with mother; but that is not for me. I can very well take over when ye’re unable and by myself.”

It had been an ongoing argument ever since Sebastian had come of age and had his coming out party. He felt it was a royal disaster. All Princes and Princesses touring his castle, sizing Sebastian up like he was the latest fashion trend. He didn’t want to be anyone's latest anything. He just wanted to be Prince Sebastian of Scotland and be left to his painting like he loved to do.

“Sebastian please,” Merlin sighed. “Ruling is not a choice or something ye get to do when ye’re ready. The thing is you ARE ready and able. My father passed the crown to be on my 25th birthday and I plan to do the same for my son.” Sebastian rolled his eyes, even as Percival elbowed him and whispered to him to behave. “It is impossible, Percival. You have taught my son well; but behaving has not been his strong suit.”

“I’d like to think he held onto some of the manners he was taught since.” Percival held his spine ramrod straight as he addressed the King; no matter if they had been long time friends since their early 20’s.

“No!” Sebastian shot up from his seat. “That’s where you’re wrong. I can refuse it! I don’t need to do this and ye can’t make me marry for the bloody crown, father!”

“Seba-” Percival started to say but was cut short with a smooth wave of Merlin’s hand.

They all watched him stand, all regal, the picture of royalty. Sebastian almost forgot the man behind the garb, the one who’d sing him the Scottish lullaby, and the one who used to make his mother giggle until her nose wrinkled. But those were lost dreams from a childhood that was cut short when the plague ran through the land and an unfortunate case fell upon the castle that they lost the Queen to. Robbing Sebastian of his mother and his father, who lost kind hazel eyes and a soft smile for his son and wife.

Better days were replaced with ones ruled by an iron fist. They had brought Percival in from England, with his experience with royalty, in order to help aid in bringing Sebastian up to be the rightful heir to the throne and to take over when his father saw fit.

“I will not tolerate my son speaking to me in such a manner. Ye are allowed to hold an opinion.” Merlin seemed to deflate a bit with a thought. “Yer mother and I thought that important, but ye will not disrespect me, Sebastian.” He cocked his chin quickly and Sebastian knew when he was dismissed.

Sebastian gave a stiff bow and turned on his heel heading straight to the stables to ride his stallion, Onyx.

He ignored the guards shouting after him and kept going past their grounds and into the woods.

---

“He is a rebel,” Percival commented after a moment. “Too much like his mother.”

“Aye,” Merlin agreed fondly. “Roxanne would be so proud of the man he’s become; but I just wish I could get him to see.” He pressed forefingers to his temples; a dull headache starting just behind his eyes.

“And what is it you wish him to see, your Majesty?” Merlin waved a hand. Percival smiled softly. “My apologies, Christie. What is it you wish him to see?”

Merlin settled onto the throne. The cushion soft and right now the only seat he could stand. “I wish he would see this as more than duty. When he was a wee lad he dreamed of being a King like his da.” He paused, the name settled poorly in his stomach. “He doesn’t even address me as such any longer.” That troubled him more than he thought.

“If I may be so bold.” Percival grinned when Merlin gave him an exasperated look. “Sometimes you need bold Christie, always did when we were younger.”

“Distant memories, my old friend.”

Percival came to sit beside him. “That they were, but they don’t have to be. Anyway,” he continued. “Perhaps Sebastian has lost his da to a man so consumed by the crown, hm?” Merlin disliked that he was even a little bit right.

“What was I to do, Percival? I lost my wife, the love of my life, my partner to the throne and life, and my son lost his mother. How was I to be all he needed and then let the country suffer?” Percival tipped his head iin a way that was all knowing; Merlin hated it. “Don’t say it,” he warned, a soft whisper.

“Maybe you need to hear it.” Merlin wanted to argue, but knew better, because he had let the most important person down. “You let your son suffer, not as much as he could, but enough. He thought the sun rose and set on you, Christie.” Merlin blinked back a few tears. “You have grown apart since Roxanne’s death, but you can patch it up. Perhaps start by listening to what your son is saying. He KNOWS there is no way around ruling, Sebastian was raised to replace you, but you need to listen to him. If you aren’t willing to budge on that, at least meet him halfway about marriage.”

Merlin sat quietly for a very long moment before he gave Percival a small nod.

Roxanne would have fought for their son’s wishes, and Merlin owed it to both of them to at least listen.

---

“You summoned me father?” Sebastian asked. He had just put Onyx away and was called to his father’s room. “I was just about to ready for supper.” He knew he reeked of stable and horse.

Merlin looked up from his papers and gestured for Sebastian to take a seat in front of his desk. It was one his mother had gifted him on their 15th wedding anniversary and Sebastian had helped pick out the hickory wood. It hadn’t moved since delivered 16 years ago, something his father so clearly treasured and would likely use until it rotted to dust.

“We need to talk lad,” Merlin murmured quietly. Sebastian went stiff in his seat, not having been called lad in such a long time. “I feel an apology is in order,” Merlin started.

“I am not apologizing for having feelings, father. Something ye and mother had taught me,” Sebastian replied harshly. He saw annoyance blaze in his father’s eyes for a moment before they sombered up. Sebastian watched his father stand slowly and come to sit beside him.

“Nae, lad, that is not what I meant. I owe ye one, aye?” He had never heard his father sound so sincere and he was as true as they came. “I am sorry I have neglected ye and more than just listening to yer opinions.”

Sebastian frowned up at him. “Neglected me? I haven’t needed for a thing my whole life.” His father gave him a sad smile while cupping his chin.

“No Sebastian. I have neglected being the da ye knew for so long.” His hazel eyes softened. “I think ye know what I mean,” he added quietly when Sebastian didn’t say anything.

“Aye.” His father swept a thumb over his chin before grasping his son’s shoulder for a reassuring squeeze.

“I would like to change that. I know I can’t take back the years you were robbed, but we can try to make the coming ones better. I am sorry I have neglected to see how strongly ye feel about marrying for the crown.”

Sebastian sagged a bit. “Ye mean that?” he asked, hopeful.

“I do, Sebastian.” Sebastian beamed at his father. “Ye know the crown is going to be passed to you, aye? It is tradition, Sebastian, and one I am really unwilling to break.” He nodded his head; Sebastian knew some things would stay the same. “But I want ye to give me one more chance with marriage. If ye are willing.”

He felt irritation creep up his spine, work its way through his blood, and into his heart until an inferno started.

“Father,” Sebastian growled through clenched teeth.

“Please, just listen? I will respect yer wishes to not marry, but there is something Percival suggested.” That piqued his interest, because out of everyone Percival would know what he’d want best. And Sebastian was sure his father knew that, no matter how much it might pain him.

“I’m listening,” he said regretfully.

---

“A ball! How could ye suggest a ball!” Sebastian paced Percival’s study, as the man scrawled his request for the thousand letters they’d need for this. “That is the furthest thing from what I’d want.”

When his father spoke of a masquerade ball, Sebastian nearly fell out of his chair. It was absurd, too grand, and what the bloody hell was he going to do the entire evening? Pretend to walk around, socialize with willing men and women who would probably offer up their souls to wed him, that’s what.

“But this is not any old ball, Sebastian, and you know it,” Percival said calmly, like they were discussing the fucking breakfast menu. “A mix of commoners and Royals, outside of Scotland and held at the Palace in London. No one will even know it is you, we aren’t announcing who is who.”

Sebastian grumbled as he spun on his heel to continue pacing like a caged animal. “And I’m supposed to just fall in love in one night? Who even does that?”

Percival looked up patiently. “Your parents.”

It was all fairy tales and this was the modern world. No such thing as love at first site or true love existed like that, and if it did Sebastian doubted he’d find it so fast.

“Yeah, well, fairy tales are for babes.” He ignored Percival as he shook his head before continuing his writing. A few more moments passed of Sebastian wearing a hole in Percival’s floor, before he collapsed into a chair with a loud huff. “I just have to get through this one night, prove to him I will not find my perfect someone, and then I can prepare to take the crown in a month.”

Percival sealed the envelope with the family crest, a fond smile on his face. “You are rebellious like your mother, but you sound just like your father,” he pointed out. Sebastian sulked a bit, arms crossed over his chest because he couldn’t see the resemblance in his situation. They had married just a month short of meeting one another from what he was told. “You know.” Percival leaned forward, a gleeful glint in his eyes. “She was not intended to wed him, yes?”

Sebastian straightened his posture because that was preposterous, they had been arranged to marry, hadn’t they?

“Your father would kill me for telling you this.” Percival didn’t sound very put off by it. “It was always your mother’s wish to tell you when you were old enough to find love. I remember hearing about it a time or two when I’d come to visit. She believed in creating your own destiny, no matter what tradition allowed.” Sebastian found himself interested in his words. “But he was meant to marry Princess Anne of Sweden. They were betrothed from birth and spent most of their lives together; had grown quite close and all. I remember your father coming to England one summer, that is how we met, and he ended up staying the better part of a year. Your grandparents were so angered with him. But not as angry as they could be when they found out he had fallen in love with an English Princess.”

He had known his mother was not native to Scotland, but always thought they had been set up from birth, but it appeared there was so much more he didn’t know.

“That’s why he had stayed longer. Evidently they had met by chance on a trail through the woods, and their horses got along well, and so it turned out the riders would fancy each other just as quickly.” Percival was far away as he retold the past like a story. “He had stayed with me the entire time, we were fast friends and kept in touch even when he came back home. The wedding was still being planned, and your mother was determined to keep him. So she fled the palace to find him, of course your grandparents were fraught and the whole Kingdom searched high and low for her.”

Sebastian always believed his parents love story to be magical, but this was a true fairy tale in itself.

Percival chuckled to himself. “She arrived on the day of their wedding. A complete disaster from what I have been told, and one so unforgivable the Swedish Royals are reluctant to do business with us.”

“How did granda and grandmother allow it? Or why?” Sebastian always knew his grandparents to be a bit cool to his mother, but figured it was in-law stuffiness.

“They eloped. It honest to God almost cost your father the crown, but he didn’t care, he had her and she him. I honestly believe they would have stripped him of his privileges if your mother hadn’t been pregnant for you.”

“Then why is he so against me finding love? My own.” Sebastian couldn’t figure it out. “The crown isn’t important to me.” Percival raised a careful brow at him; Sebastian huffed. “Okay. I care about the people, but the rest is just...just stuffy nonsense. Father used to believe that too.” He got quiet for a moment, thoughtful. “That was before mother passed.”

Percival stood to cross the small space between them and kneel in front of him. “Deep down he still believes it, but the whole country wept for her. Not just you, or your father, and so with that he had to bottle his own grief and carry on. He had to be sure to groom you to be King, had to be certain he could run the country as it should. Being King is a heavy mantle to carry, and perhaps he doesn’t want it to weigh you down like it has him.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Sebastian admitted a bit sheepishly. “But why can’t he give me more time to find it?” He pressed, still holding onto that like a stubborn mule.

Percival exhaled a deep breath and stood. “He is trying, Sebastian, give him that much. This ball is to give you the tools to find it. I know it seems impossible, but sometimes things we think are intangible are just in arms reach,” Percival finished as he took his seat.

“If ye say so.”

Percival gave him a small smile. “I do say so. Now go get changed for our fencing match.”

Sebastian’s puzzled frown quickly turned into a wicked grin. “Ye’re on.” He shot up and ran off to get ready to kick Percival’s arse.

Chapter Text

The weeks passed in a similar fashion to his usual days, only now with the added hustle and bustle of readying the twins for the ball. Little did they know that Eggsy had begun to spruce up one of his father’s old suits. It was a simple navy blue thing, something he had worn to a wedding of a friend, but he gave it a few trimmings. Eggsy even used some tattered pieces off of his mum’s wedding dress to add a few touches.

He cut the charmeuse into a lace pattern to sew onto the suit jacket collar; Eggsy thought it a nice addition.

It slowly started to come together; he felt proud of it. The only thing he missed were a pair of shoes to go with the ensemble. He dug through the small wardrobe he kept in the attic, the only space in the house he could call his.

Once his mum passed away Eggsy was robbed of more than just his only parent. The rooms he had called his own? They were taken up by his step-family. One for the twins clothing, a ‘rec’ room as they called it, and the other had the walls knocked down to create a bigger master bedroom for Chester.

After awhile Eggsy learned to accept it and he even sort of liked it up there. It meant privacy, to a certain degree, so often it was where Eggsy went to rest by the dying embers of the kitchen fire to write.

Chester knew nothing of his writing poetry and he kept it that way.

Eggsy found a tattered old pair of black oxfords, a soft smile spread across his lips as he turned but then stopped when another shoe fell out. It wasn’t any old shoe; it was a winged trainer. The first and only pair his dad had bought him. It had been a rough year for work and Eggsy knew better than to ask for anything extravagant; but as they had passed a shoe shop in town it was all his parents could do to get him away from the display window.

They were new, the owner not even sure they would sell, but Eggsy was sold immediately. He didn’t even have to say anything, it must have been in the way he looked at them, a longing face that his parents registered right away.

He picked them up. They were old, worn, with a hole at the toe from years of use and play in them. Too small now for his feet, though Eggsy thought they’d go well with the outfit he was putting together. Eggsy knew it was a long shot, thinking that Chester and the boys wouldn’t figure it out, but at least up here he was safe. And he was careful to put it away during the day to keep out nosey hands and eyes.

Eggsy dusted off the sides of his winged trainers, no longer white now but grey. He couldn’t count the many times he’d hiked a trail, gone riding, or just romped around their garden with his dad while wearing these. Even as a child Eggsy knew what it must have cost them to purchase these, which made it all the more harder to let them go, no matter how little purpose they served now.

It was the sentimental value. He remembered only wearing them inside the house, deathly afraid to ruin the nice, new white material. His father only laughed at him goodnaturedly and took him out with them still on his feet. Eggsy had actually cried the first time he had gotten mud on them, telling his dad he would wash them. But his dad was kind, a small smile that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his lips. He had given him the reassurance when Eggsy watched his father wash the trainers off, ‘no worries my little egg’ is what he had told him as he had placed the pair securely on his feet.

His trip down memory lane was shattered when a loud call for his name echoed up the stairs. Eggsy hugged the old pair for a moment, a silent whisper sent up with love for his parents, and placed everything in their proper hiding place before making a hasty retreat.

“Yes, step-father.” It hurt his soul to call him as such, but it wasn’t worth it to go without a meal or two by calling him Chester.

“Took you long enough boy.” Chester moved about the front room. “It seems the floor needs scrubbing again.” He pointed to the trail of mud shaped boot prints heading from the kitchen and up the stairs. “By hand,” he added.

Eggsy’s mouth fell open with a sound pop. “I just bloody did them!” He exclaimed, rather loudly. Which didn’t seem to impress Chester.

His sour face turned further into a frown as he advanced on Eggsy. “I beg your pardon?” Eggsy’s spine went straight, a chill up his back at the acrid tone. “You will scrub these floors, again, and I want them to shine. No more of this dull surface. They should be clean enough to eat off of and if you keep this up that is exactly what you’ll be doing.” Eggsy ignored the snickering coming from the landing and gave a curt nod.

“Yes sir,” he said quietly.

Chester smiled and it was a wide slimy thing. “That’s a good lad,” he said and patted Eggsy’s cheek.

Eggsy gave a tight smile and watched him walk away wishing he could wipe that horrid look off the man’s face. He wondered if Chester realized how utterly appalling he actually was. But considering the way his two brats thought the sun rose and set on their arses; Eggsy gathered not. With a shake of his head, Eggsy went and gathered the needed supplies. To be fair he hadn’t hand scrubbed earlier in the day, but had done it two days prior and King was just being an arse to be an arse.

He passed the time humming to himself, a song his father once sung when he was a child. It comforted Eggsy. There was only the foyer left when JB barrelled through, muddy paws and all, and up the stairs with Charlie hot on heels.

Eggsy sat back and tossed the scrubber at his back. “Oi! Leave him alone!” They liked to scare the little pug while he was asleep and proceed to play a game of chase through the house. A game JB did not care for and Eggsy had enough.

“What did you say to me?” Charlie sneered. He made sure to stomp rather loudly down the three steps he had climbed, only aiding in the mud falling off of his boots. “Who said you could speak to me that way, Eggy?” Eggsy could feel the heat rise in his cheeks as he stood.

“I said leave him alone.” They were chest to chest and Eggsy wasn’t backing down this time. “He ain’t your dog.”

Charlie poked his chest. “So?” Eggsy puffed out a bit further. “What are you going to do about it, you pleb?”

Eggsy shoved him back. “Sod off.”

That seemed to get up his back because Charlie straightened himself out and as soon as Chester came into view he pushed Eggsy so hard he fell back and into the bucket he had used. Now with a soaked ass Eggsy stood, grabbed the handle, and prepared to toss the soapy water all over him.

“I think not,” Chester roared. “You so much as get a drop on my son you will find yourself homeless, you got that boy?” Eggsy debated being on the streets just to see Charlie’s pretty face sodden.

“Yeah. Boy.” Charlie sidestepped onto a throw rug and purposefully wiped his heels in. “Looks like you got more cleaning to do, Eggy.” Charlie took JB, who had trotted down the steps, and tossed him onto Eggsy’s soaked lap. “He’s a little rat anyway.” And headed up.

Eggsy’s throat closed with anger and he tried to blink the hot tears away. He shifted his face away as Chester stood over him and tisked disapprovingly.

“This place is a mess. I guess you’ll be cleaning a lot longer.” Chester then called up for his sons. “Get your coats. We will be headed into town for shopping and a meal.” They readied for their outing and just as Chester went to leave, he stopped just inside the doorframe. “I expect this place to be spotless, or it’s a night in the stables for you.” Eggsy would have screamed at him, but that was a whole lot of energy he didn’t possess at this point.

The first thing Eggsy did was bathe and dry JB before finishing his floor work and starting on the rug. He refused to cry, denied Chester the right to affect him that way, and completed his task. It was just twilight when he was done. Eggsy fed the animals for the night, gave JB his rations, and had a hunk of bread and honey himself. It would likely be trouble for him if he were caught cooking a meal for himself.

Eggsy carefully tiptoed through the immaculately clean hall and up to the attic where he decided to stay for the remainder of the evening and night. JB curled comfortably on the wool blanket his mum knitted when he got the pug and watched lazily as Eggsy worked away at his suit.

King and his brood didn’t even bother him when they returned home and so Eggsy had it nearly finished by dawn.

---

“How did ye manage an incognito carriage?” Sebastian wondered as they rode through the streets of London. He had been here many times as a young child. There had been visits to his mother’s parents and holidays spent in a cottage just on the outskirts of the city; Sebastian missed it. “And we are to stay at the palace?”

“Aye,” Merlin answered. “And it is surprisingly easy to procure such a disguise.”

The ball was a few days away and Sebastian was to visit Kingsman’s tailor shop tomorrow. They had taken measurements from their Royal tailors and a gift from Percival was for his outfit to be made there. Sebastian thought it a kind gesture and appreciated it immensely.

Sebastian hummed a bit as he watched commoners wander the walks and up stone paths to the shops.

“Ye are not going to require me to socialize in a formal setting, are you?” he wondered not taking his eyes off his view. Sebastian could feel the eye roll his father gave him.

“Now that would be silly of me, wouldn’t it?” The sarcasm bled from Merlin’s brogue. “Sebastian, really. We are guests in someone else’s home, and yes I expect ye to attend the dinner they are hosting tonight for our welcoming. I also expect my SON to behave as the Prince he was raised to be and show them how grateful we are for their generosity of the palace and ball they are hosting.” Sebastian could feel the irritation in his father’s voice.

“They are family, yes?”

“Sebastian,” Merlin growled. “Never mind they are yer cousins. Ye are going to be future King and you will act as such tonight.” Sebastian knew then the conversation was over as he sat silent the rest of the ride while his father spoke only to Percival about the menu for the ball.

Sebastian was pleased to be left to his own thoughts once he was shown his room and decided on a bath in preparation for the formal dinner tonight. He hoped he’d be able to make use of their stables tomorrow once he was finished with the fitting of his outfit. The theme was supposed to be ‘A Night of Enchantment’ and he wondered what the meaning was to be and what the tailors interpretation of it would be. He’d be lucky if he didn’t end up in a Royal suit with small touches, but his father promised no one would know who he was. Luckily other Scotsmen were invited and would attend, that way it wouldn’t be easy to pick him out by accent.

At least Sebastian could pretend for a night he wasn’t Royal and wasn’t destined to rule a country he loved, but would rather enjoy and not have to rule.

Wishes were for those fortunate enough to control their future.

---

“Not bad,” Sebastian said as he turned to view himself in Kingsman’s fitting room. “Ye sent off some of my preferences, didn’t ye?” He turned to Percival with a knowing smile. The man gave a slow bow in answer. Sebastian changed out of his outfit and dressed. “You think I’ll be able to see the stables? I’d love to take a ride before supper.” Thank Christ he would be dining with his father and Percival and not the whole of the palace.

“I have already arranged for something, your highness.”

“Without the guards?” he asked, hopeful.

Percival nodded, “Without the guards. There is a quaint trail on the outskirts of their grounds. Plenty of space for you to roam. I even arranged for a small snack to be sent off with you.” Sebastian tossed himself at the man and gave a tight hug which Percival returned carefully.

“Ye’re the best.” He squeezed a moment longer and let go. “Alright. Show me the way.” They thanked the men and women at Kingsman and headed back to the palace.

He was set up with their deep chocolate brown mare named Luna. She was gorgeous and gentle, with a smooth gait. Sebastian headed out the route Percival gave him and wandered a bit, allowing the horse to lead with instinct. They started with a soft trot and soon Sebastian hooked his heels into her sides for a steady gallop.

As they rode through deep woods, all beautiful greens dotted with wild flowers paving the way through the trail, he spotted a small pond not far from a clearing past the trees. He guided her forward to discover a small house beyond the pond. It was cute with vines and ivy growing up the sides. They type of place he’d love to escape to. Sebastian noted smoke swirling from the chimney, clearly it was occupied. He went to turn Luna back as to not trespass when a small fawn-colored animal ran out and spooked her.

Luna reared back on her hind hooves, nearly knocking Sebastian off, and was only saved by a soft, soothing voice that clicked and cooed at her.

“Woah, woah, easy. Just a dog, innit? Yeah. That’s a good girl.” Sebastian listened to the estuary. “You are gorgeous, aren’t you?” He peered beyond Luna’s head and noted a disheveled head of honey-brown hair, and was soon met by the prettiest blue-green eyes he had ever seen.

“Might want to watch where you’re going, yeah? This ain’t your land.” The pretty face glared up at him, a bit dirty and covered with soot, but that’s not what held his gaze.

This man was enchanting. There was something so innocent, yet so devil-may-care about him. Sebastian was intrigued.

“Sorry,” Sebastian said lamely. Soft pink lips curled into a sneer when Sebastian spoke and the same sparkling eyes rolled at him.

“Tourist. Suppose you didn’t know better.” Sebastian saw him pet Luna from the corner of his eye.

“Aye, tourist, sorry.” And that made the stranger grin cheekily, a smile so wide it pulled at his face adorably. “This yer home?” He cocked his chin towards the house.

“Mmm,” he hummed in answer. Sebastian could see more words on his lips, but they were pulled when someone yelled an odd name that he had never heard before. He held his eyes for a moment longer; Sebastian found himself wanting to look at them longer.

“Gotta go, be careful, yeah?” He bent down and scooped up the small canine that had originally spooked Luna, before he jogged off.

Sebastian did not at all watch the way his arse bounced as he did and instead clicked his tongue to head back with the hopes he would run into the pretty stranger tomorrow night at the ball.

Chapter Text

Eggsy was quite perplexed by the stranger he had run into the day prior. He was handsome, yes, Eggsy could give him that, but his brain to mouth filter had been broken or so it seemed. He didn’t have much time to ponder on who he was or how he’d found the trails that led to his home; Chester kept him rather busy that day.

They were making all the last minute arrangements for the ball and that evidently meant the barber came to the house and did cuts. Why they couldn’t go into town was beyond Eggsy, but then again the two insisted no wind touch their hair between the styling and the ball. Eggsy had laughed to himself in a corner because the twins actually slept sitting up. There had been so much hustle and bustle, Eggsy didn’t know what all the fuss was for, but that wasn’t to say he wasn’t looking forward to it.

He had worked hard on his outfit and had even found an old mask buried in a box of his parents belongings. Even as Eggsy made fun of Charlie and Digby; he was actually itching for a night out whether he scored a Prince or not.

But the day finally came and it looked like a fashion show in his home. Eggsy stayed out of the way just as Chester instructed him to. Which was okay with Eggsy because that meant he could slip upstairs, without anyone questioning him, and add some last minute touches to the suit. It had come out better than he’d hoped. He smiled down to JB once he gave it a steam.

“Not bad, eh?” JB cocked his head to the side and woofed. “Thanks. Couldn’t have done it without your moral support.” Eggsy rewarded the pudgy pug with a few belly rubs before polishing the old oxfords.

Eggsy was just finished with the second shoe when he heard loud footsteps echoed up the stairs, no doubt Chester’s, and he quickly tossed a sheet over the mannequin and shoved the shoes under a pillow. He damn near landed on JB in an attempt to seem like he had lounged on the thin mattress all along. He’d rather get yelled at for lazing about, than for sneaking around to head to the ball.

“Look at you!” Chester roared in disgust. “Why aren’t you down there offering tea and biscuits to our guests?” They were no more guests than they were workers, but Eggsy still stood and tried to look guilty.

“You told me to make myself scarce, step-father.” Eggsy added a little sniffle. “My apologies.”

Chester was too absorbed with preparation to realize Eggsy was bullshiting him. “I suppose I did. Well get down there. I need a pot of tea and tray of sandwiches with biscuits.” When Eggsy didn’t move right away he snapped his fingers. Eggsy added a quick pep in his step and scurried out with his step-father just behind him.

Thankfully he didn’t think anything of the odd sheet covered mannequin in the room and let JB out with a punt to his bum. Eggsy scooped him up at the bottom and quickly ran off to be not seen nor heard.

---

Evening had quickly approached and Eggsy had a hard time staying still in the kitchen. He found himself baking a few dozen muffins and more biscuits. Keeping his hands busy was the best way to ensure he didn’t get in the way and he looked less suspicious when he flitted around the space trying to remember the few dances his father had taught him. He was in the middle of arranging the last tray of sweets on a cooling rack when Chester wandered in.

“We will be taking our leave,” he told Eggsy. “I would have offered you to go; but you did not have anything suitable to wear and it would be shameful to embarrass you.” Eggsy could hear the faux disappointment in his voice. He couldn’t figure out why Chester would even pretend to be sorry, he wasn’t sorry in the least bit.

“It’s alright. I understand such luxuries for those above me,” Eggsy responded; his back turned to Chester. “I hope all goes well for the twins.” It physically hurt Eggsy to say that.

“We will likely be out late, I’m sure one of them will find the Prince and then we will be discussing wedding plans with the King, I am certain.” He sounded way too confident, especially with the costumes the two wore.

Charlie wore a bright neon pink suit with butterfly wings attached to the back, his mask all large wings but too big for Charlie’s face. Digby was in a neon green suit identical to Charlie’s just different color. There was nothing elegant or enchanting about them, they’d stick out like a sore thumb. The idea was to seem whimsical; Eggsy had seen the letter and all would reveal themselves at midnight.

With no other words, Chester wandered out of the kitchen and Eggsy could hear the two boys bicker over who would get into the carriage first. He waited until the wheels rolled on gravel and shot up the stairs to the attic. Eggsy tore the sheet off the mannequin, a wide smile on his face, and started to ready himself.

He made sure to wash up carefully, applied some of the cologne he had saved, and combed his hair into a smooth style. His heart was in his throat the entire time, not ever having a thrill such as this in his life. Eggsy tied the oxfords and stood in front of the floor length mirror, he had polished the glass so he could see his reflection clearly.

The man in the mirror wasn’t recognizable, but he was. It was like stepping back in time by a few decades, as if Eggsy looked at a picture of his father in his youth. Eggsy’s hands shook as he smoothed the lapels of the navy blue jacket, felt the smooth charmeuse against his palms, and stood a bit straighter. He didn’t resemble a creature, or a bug, but thought he looked elegant enough. He almost walked out of the room when he remembered the mask.

Eggsy took the black velvet and fastened it into place. He had added some scraps of his mum’s wedding dress around the eyes to create a similar lace pattern as his jacket, and gave it a few spritz of starch so that they held up.

JB gave a boof, it sounded happy, approving even.

“Think I did good?” His eyes shifted down to JB. “I think I did,” he answered once JB gave a sloppy smile, tongue lolled to the side. Eggsy made sure JB had some water and dry food before heading out. “Be a good boy, yeah?” He closed the attic door and barrelled down the stairs.

By some miracle Eggsy had offered to clean Mr. Ford’s stables, for a month, in exchange for a carriage ride. He made a beeline for the door and ran right into Chester.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Chester stood in the doorway flanked by his sons, eyes hooded with anger, but that sly evil smile in place.

“Going somewhere, were you?” He gestured behind him where Eggsy’s carriage was leaving. “You can imagine our surprise when one of Mr. Ford’s carriages came down out path as we headed out. So naturally I had the turn ours around and figure out why. And to my surprise, it seemed a certain young man thought he’d actually attend the ball.” Chester advanced Eggsy with each word, until he tripped on the last step of the stairs. “What makes you think you’d have a shot?” He snarled, words like venom.

Eggsy forced himself to stand chest to chest and crowd Chester’s personal space with his chin jutted out. “It said all eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, and I am eligible.” He ignored Charlie and Digby’s giggles.

He waited for the backlash, perhaps a physical one, but all he got was a thoughtful look and that was almost worse.

“You are right,” he said after a moment and raised his hand when his boys began to argue. Chester turned to them. “Isn’t he right?”

Charlie and Digby wore expressions of confusion, and even Eggsy could mirror them; maybe Chester had gone insane.

“He has worked so hard to find something suitable to wear, and it pains me to admit it is stunning.” Chester stepped closer to his sons. “Charlie, did you not have a mask similar to that one? It looked oddly familiar.” Charlie gazed at Eggsy, eyes scrutinizing him. “And Digby, is that not a pair of oxfords you had placed into a donation pile a year ago?” He continued and now both were coming around Chester to inspect Eggsy.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Eggsy snapped as fingers skimmed the mask, the fabric of his suit and touched his shoes. “These are mine. All things I had from my mum and dad,” he defended, but it did him no good.

“You are right. This is mine.” Charlie snatched the mask off of his face and threw it to the ground. “I had a silk just like this.” He grabbed a hold of a lapel and tore away at the charmeuse. “Father?” he said thoughtfully as Eggsy was knocked onto his arse, just for Digby to rip the shoes off.

He was too stunned to maintain his balance and tried to kick Digby away.

“I think it is,” Chester agreed mildly.

“You ain’t fit enough to get your flabby arse into this!” Eggsy shouted and hopped up to get away but they were quicker, and he was outnumbered. “Fuck off!” His screams did no good as they tore his outfit to shreds.

The fabric too old and too cheap to withstand the abuse they lay on it. It was over before the first tear could fall.

“Boys! That is enough,” Chester interjected, and all that was left were tatters of suit and wedding dress on the floor. Eggsy left to stand clad in his trousers, vest and a sleeve hanging off of his right arm, while they flounced with their noses in the air out the front door.

Chester gave him a once over, smiled, and slammed the door shut.

It was all Eggsy could do not to scream as he ran out the back door through the garden, warm tears streaming down his face, and allowed his feet to take him to the only place that provided him comfort. But what comfort could be brought to him from a pond now? He was alone, all the people he loved and who loved him were gone, and the only chance at any sort of happiness was just ripped from him.

Eggsy collapsed onto his knees at the water's edge and cried. Even if crying solved little for him, it was all he could do.

A few tears dropped into the water, rippling the still liquid, stirring it up. Eggsy covered his eyes and didn’t see the water brighten. It shone with a stark white, then blue, before swirls of twinkling stars and drops of water gathered together and ascended out of the pond. He didn’t hear much past his sobs and silent wishes he could attend the ball, until an expectant throat was cleared.

Eggsy jumped, sure he had been alone, and sprang to his feet to be met by a gentleman dressed in a white pinstriped, navy blue suit that fit him like skin.

“Who the fuck are you?” Eggsy wondered, not as harsh as he intended what with his watery voice and all.

The man cleared his throat, fiddled with his black rimmed glasses, and tapped his rainmaker to the ground as his feet met. Eggsy’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets; he hadn’t realized the man was suspended in the air.

“The name is Harry Hart, and I am here to help you.”

Eggsy stared mouth gaped open like a fish out of water as Harry pointed his rainmaker to the sky, and his name appeared to be shot out of the end with white light and sparkled in the air.

“The fuck?” Eggsy breathed. “Wot kind of shit is that? Fucking rain maker, innit?!” Eggsy couldn’t work past the sparks shooting out of a damn umbrella, enough to focus on where this man had come from.

“It is a wand, as they call it. I did not care for the flimsy stick that sparkled at the end. I much preferred this. We are in London, after all,” Harry said matter of factly, like they were discussing different brands of tea. “They really don’t let us do much customizing in the fairy department.” he mused to himself, seemingly frustrated Eggsy noted.

“Anyway.” He perked up a bit. “You.” Harry gestured with his rainmaker and poked Eggsy’s chest, nearly causing him to fall into the pond, trying to get away. It was the hook, around the back of his neck, that saved him.

“We wouldn’t want to get you all dirty. You are due to attend a ball, yes?” Harry asked as he righted Eggsy and brushed his shoulders off. “I’m to understand a masquerade ball?” Eggsy nodded his head. “Do you have a carriage waiting for you?” Harry wondered.

“Yeah,” Eggsy said hesitantly. “How you know all that? And where did you come from?” he pressed, because Eggsy hadn’t seen a fucking soul out here.

To be fair he hadn’t paid much attention, but he was alone for a bit before anyone made noise; before Harry made noise.

“You wished for me,” Harry said simply.

“I’m pretty damn sure I didn’t wish for a...fairy, you said? What, you supposed to be my fairy god mother or something like that.” Eggsy made a face; it sounded weird saying it aloud.

A set of brown eyes rolled dramatically before Harry straightened out and cleared his throat again.

“I am no ones fairy god MOTHER, nor fairy god father. I like to be referred to as fairy god tailor, if you please,” Harry informed him haughtily.

Eggsy snorted, “A fairy god tailor? The fuck is that supposed to be?” He had never heard of such a thing in his life. “They have fairies for tailors?” Eggsy tried to put the jobs together, which only earned him another eye roll.

“No. I am from the fairy god father wing, but I TAILOR. I am the one they send out to young men and women who need a...sprucing up, if you will.” Eggsy looked down at his outfit and nodded; he needed more than a spruce. “But yes, you did wish for me. You wished to attend the ball.”

“I didn’t wish that out loud!” Eggsy knew he hadn’t said it. He took a few bracing moments to calm his breathing and get his brain to work around Harry and what he was.

Harry smiled knowingly. “I know you didn’t. Like I said, fairy god tailor. Now!” There was a skip in his step as he circled Eggsy. “Oh this is dreadful, just dreadful. You were going to the ball in this, Eggsy?”

“You know my name!?!” Eggsy’s voice rose a few octaves when Harry tapped his bum with an umbrella. “How you know that?”

“Fairy God Tailor, Eggsy. Now please stop asking questions, I know you are a smart lad. Stand up straight please.” He took hold of Eggsy’s shoulders to force him into an upright position. “No slouching and hold your head up, that’s splendid.”

Eggsy huffed a bit. “How is this going to help me? And I am going to be late. I don’t have a carriage anymore and nothing to wear.”

Harry stopped in front of him and sighed heavily. “Do I need to spell my title out in the sky for you too? I am a TAILOR, Eggsy. I will be helping you look your best and we will get you there, don’t you worry. They don’t call us fairies for nothing.” Eggsy watched Harry work. He started to wave his rainmaker in the air, the tip gleamed as small sparks fell from it, the magic getting brighter as Harry whispered words Eggsy couldn’t understand.

“What is it you are mumbling?” He whispered, not sure if he needed the concentration or whatever.

“Bippity boppity boo,” Harry answered and returned to chanting the phrase.

Eggsy’s face scrunched up as he moved away. “What?”

“If you don’t shut up, I will mess this up and you could look rather ugly!” Harry snapped. Eggsy held still, trying not to laugh, while Harry circled him faster.

The white sparkles surrounded Eggsy and soon he couldn’t see Harry anymore. All of a sudden Eggsy’s feet were off of the ground, he tried not to panic and hold still, because he didn’t know if Harry would set him on fire. Harry chanted louder and with a final call of ‘bippity boppity boo’ a flash of light, almost like fireworks exploding, seemed to erupt from Eggsy and he was placed safely on the ground.

Harry beamed at him and blew smoke off of his rainmaker. “Fabulous. This is utterly gorgeous, and it suits your hair and complexion perfectly. This may be the best work I have done.” He giggled a bit and waltzed around Eggsy touching various spots on his body, making hums of pleasure and approval.

“How does it feel?” Harry inquired, a bit seriously this time.

Eggsy flexed his shoulders, moved his legs, and walked about a bit. “Feels good. Honestly feels like I’m not wearing anything at all.” He knew he was. It was warm, fabric fitted perfectly to his form, and blue. Eggsy looked down at his legs, the trousers a powder blue, just a hint really almost like a hue of blue, and he fucking shimmered a bit when he turned this way and that.

“I’m still barefoot,” he noted. “Shouldn’t I have shoes?” Eggsy rather thought it poor taste to go without something covering his feet.

“Right, yes, shoes.” Harry cleared his throat. “Hmm. White would go best, oxfords I think. It would go well with the wings.”

“Wings?!?” Eggsy ran to the ponds edge to see his reflection. His face was the first thing he noticed. It was covered from the nose up with a stark white mask; feathers in what seemed to be the shape of angel wings adorned his eyes and flared out just a little with a light dusting of glitter that shimmered in the moonlight.

“Woah,” he breathed and turned his face each way to watch them sparkle. Eggsy went to turn and stopped with a sharp gasp when he noted his backside. “Jesus, wings on my back?” They were indeed angel wings, not as large as you’d expect, but wide enough that they were unfurled to span out just past his shoulders.

He could feel Harry beside him. “Do you like?”

“I do, yes. This is fucking aces, bruv.” Eggsy turned to him, a wide smile in place. But Harry seemed as if he had just swallowed shit. His face was distorted in such a way, it was almost painful.

“Bruv?” Harry shuddered. “Don’t call me that again.” He went back to inspecting Eggsy’s feet, it seemed he sized them up, before he pointed the rainmaker and started ‘bippity boppity booing’ him.

“No! Wait!” Eggsy begged. Harry waited patiently with a bland look on his face and waved a hand for Eggsy to continue. “Wings, yeah? Think...think you can give me white winged trainers?” Harry let out a breath as if someone had punched him in the gut and stumbled back. Eggsy watched in horror as the fairy actually started to cry. “Shit, no shit, I’m sorry. Did I break you?”

Harry angrily wiped a few tears. “No! You hurt my soul! Winged trainers? Do you hate me? Do you hate fashion? Who the bloody hell wears winged trainers?!?! They should be an abomination as footwear.” Eggsy could see he had clearly offended the man.

“Oi! They is good shoes!” Eggsy defended himself. “I’ll wear the oxfords if I can leave.” He decided it wouldn’t be worth it to waste more time.

“No,” Harry sighed, seeming to sober up, and did the wand wavy thing. “You will look perfect, even in winged trainers.” Eggsy could tell it pained him to say that. “Bippity, boppity, boo!”

A quick zap and puff of smoke cleared from Eggsy’s feet to reveal a pair of bright white, sparkly winged trainers. Not too sparkly, but enough to add to the outfit. The stripes on the side were a silvery glitter that added to his ensemble.

“Sweet,” Eggsy said. He twisted his ankle to get a better view as Harry muttered to himself, something about a carriage and pumpkin, but Eggsy was too absorbed to pay much attention. That was until Harry sang that ‘bippity boppity boo’ again and a fucking carriage appeared out of nowhere.

Well not nowhere. It was pumpkin shaped, all white and shimmery gold, the vines hardened and leaves embedded into the body, all shiny metal.

Eggsy pointed, “Where did that come from?”

“Your garden,” Harry said distractedly as he circled a group of mice. “You three will just have to do, won’t you?” They squeaked and tried to get away as Harry zapped each one, and they appeared to turn into men.

“Bru - I mean Harry, we were saving that pumpkin for a stew!”

Harry waved a dismissive hand, and pointed his rainmaker to the garden. “There. New pumpkin,” he said proudly when one seemed to sprout up, double the size of the one before it.

All Eggsy could focus on was the fact that Harry just grew a pumpkin out of a fallen seed, and not the 3 mice that were now men. Squeaking men, but walking and functioning men. Eggsy poked the newly grown pumpkin.

“I won’t turn into something, will I? I mean...if this thing causes you to sprout a vine or some shit from your arse, I’ll just feed it to Chester and his minions.” Eggsy enjoyed his personal joke.

“No, Eggsy. No one will grow a vine.” Harry waved his wand and soon Buttercup was at the lead of the carriage following JB. Who didn’t seem very excited to be floating in the air and plopped down beside the mare.

“Wot you doing with my dog!” Eggsy ran to scoop him up when JB transformed into a horse right before his eyes. “Holy shit,” he whispered. Eggsy reached a hand out to smooth along the fawn colored body that used to be his pug. The mane a dark brown, just like his muzzle used to be, and snout to match.

“JB?” The horse gave a whinny in response. “Dear god, is he going to turn back? Because I can’t fucking explain another horse to my stepdad.” He turned to Harry, frantic. “And I sorta liked having a dog.”

Harry was about to answer when a clock chimed in the distance. “Come now.” He shuffled Eggsy closer to the carriage, that one of the mice men held open the door for, and got Eggsy into it.

“You will be late. It is after 8,” Harry explained.

“But my dog?” Eggsy asked through the window.

Harry waved dismissively. “He’ll turn back. Oh! That reminds me! This is not permanent.” He gestured around them, the carriage, makeshift men, Eggsy’s outfits and the horses. “At the 3rd stroke of midnight my magic will be no more and everything will turn back to the way it was.”

“Okay, 3rd stroke of midnight.” Eggsy nodded. “Thank you,” he said after a moment. “Really.”

Harry gave a warm smile, smacked the rump of JB, and waved him off as the horses took off.

Eggsy was too mesmerized by the inside of the carriage to pay attention as they traveled through the town and towards the Palace. It was all plush white cushions and gold trim with gold and silver fixtures, a ride grand enough for a King. His face was pulled tight into a grin because never once in his life did he imagine something as gorgeous as this, and here he was traveling to a ball, one his step-father had tried to deny him.

He felt a magnitude of things as he was dropped at the front and ascended the Palace steps. A rich golden carpet was rolled out, each step cushioned by the plush fabric, and it was all he could do to focus on his destination. Tree’s adorned the pathway all strung with white twinkling lights to illuminate the way, the door flanked with guards who nodded and opened them for Eggsy.

No one asked if he belonged here, what a boy like him was doing in such a place, as he walked through and heard the music of a String Quartet. Wait staff gliding around the main floor with hands offering hors d'oeuvre, champagne, and an assorted other tidbits Eggsy didn’t have a name for. Eggsy looked around from the landing, every person in attendance dressed to impress and unrecognizable behind intricate masks and costumes. He easily spotted Charlie and Digby out of the crowd, they stuck out like a sore thumb in their bright neon colors, for everyone else was dressed softer attire. His eyes danced a bit when they noticed him and Charlie choked on his champagne. Eggsy allowed himself to enjoy that a bit while he made his descent into the sea of people.

There were so many attendees and it was easy to feel overwhelmed with offers of food and drink, which Eggsy turned down each time. He had no idea how to mingle in this sort of setting and had already scoped out the exits. There were a few french doors, open out to the gardens, on either side of the room. He figured that would be his safest bet. Eggsy weaved in and out between people, he could smell the fresh air, and was almost there when someone slipped beside him.

“Excuse me,” Eggsy said politely, just like his father had taught him, easily sliding into a smoother dialect. He hadn’t noticed what this person was wearing, not until he spoke up.

“You only just got here,” the soft brogue accused. It was a warm familiar sound, kind, and a bit cheery. “Would be a shame as to not show off someone as gorgeous as you.” He circled Eggsy for a moment, before coming to stand in front of him.

The stranger was dressed in a gold satin tux, black flowers embedded into the jacket with a bowtie to match, it was cut well and formed to his body like skin. But the most striking thing was his mask. It was his mask, one half all black with clear gems along adorned the top of one eye and three below just above the cheekbone. The other side was a gold, almost like a stencil with the way his skin shown through spaces in an intricate design, a row of clear gems adorned the opposite eye as well.

And somehow that wasn’t what drew Eggsy’s eyes to his face, it was the striking blue eyes that twinkled with the wide cheeky grin he wore. One that creased this strangers face, a set of plush lips quirked up as he extended a hand out.

“May I have this dance?” Eggsy smiled shyly, not sure why this stranger made his stomach flip. He stepped closer to Eggsy, but not to close that he was invading his space, and whispered, “I’ve always wanted to dance with an angel.” And somehow that wasn’t as cheesy as Eggsy figured all the angel pick-up lines could be. He was smooth, so sure of himself, it was in the way his grin grew, hand extended out until their fingers touched and a warm hand wrapped around his.

Eggsy stared down at their twined digits, heart in his throat, blood rushed through his veins as he allowed himself to be led onto the main floor and pressed into an inviting embrace made for dance. Eggsy remembered the steps for a simple waltz and felt proud when he didn’t step on the freshly polished oxfords. His partner was fluid with his movements, easily took the lead, and spun them around other dancers. Some dancers who had joined and others who congregated around to watch them.

“They are staring at you,” Eggsy murmured, a little breathless with how he floated around the floor, his feet somehow keeping up with the pace set.

A set of blue eyes creased, sparkled with joy, as he smiled softly. “No, they are staring at you,” he promised.

His cheeks burned as Eggsy drifted around, head swooning with more than the floaty feeling in his stomach. His grip tightened against a golden shoulder while they finished the song out. A round of applause sounded around them as the music flowed into a new melody, and Eggsy was intimately aware they were watched by all.

The man bowed in an elegant flourish before standing to pull Eggsy into another dance. It was quicker, more upbeat than the last, and Eggsy didn’t have to concentrate so hard on keeping his trainers on the floor. They danced through 3 more numbers before Eggsy and his dance partner ran out to the gardens. A few people made gentle grabs or small gestures all in hope to get Eggsy’s attention as they breezed past.

They stopped just beyond the Palace’s rose garden to a small secluded area that was surrounded by hedges and trees. A large tree dominated a patch of grass with a homemade swing hanging from a thick, strong branch that swayed in the cool wind that passed. A wind that ruffled the leaves and cooled Eggsy’s heated cheeks.

“That feels nice.” He tipped his face up and inhaled the fresh scent of a summer night. “Thank you,” Eggsy said with a smile when he turned to face his mystery man. Who leaned casually against the trunk, each gem on his mask sparkled in the moonlight and made him look more luminous than before.

“What are ye thanking me for?” He wondered amusingly.

Eggsy shrugged while touching the rope of the swing. “For the dances.” He pushed it a bit before settling onto the seat and kicking his feet out.

“Like I said,” Eggsy was told, as his prince charming came behind him and gave his back a firm nudge to get him moving. “Anyone as beautiful as you, should be noticed.” Eggsy could hear the smile in his brogue without having to see it.

“You are quite free with compliments,” Eggsy noted gently. “And here I am, disadvantaged because I don’t know your name.”

“I do not know yers either,” he was reminded gently. Eggsy was flying high and abruptly stopped by firm hands that anchored his hips, before being met by a tender face. “But I would like to.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy asked breathlessly. Fingers touched his neck, palm smoothed along the shape and wound to cup his nape. He hooked to pull him closer until he could feel the heat of breath exhaled against his face.

They were close, just centimeters away, his heart beating wildly against his chest. He gazed up beneath thick lashes, blue eyes held his, while he came forward just short of a kiss. Eggsy leaned up just a bit until warm, soft lips formed to his in a slow, tender kiss. The hand that cradled his neck weaved into his hair, long fingers curling in and holding him tighter. His smile was slow and soft as they pulled away. Everything was a bit hazy, like a good dream you were waking up from, but it was real and the man in front of him was warm and smelled of fresh waters with a bit of deep woodsy aroma.

“I’d like to know yours too,” he agreed quietly. Eggsy tipped up into a quick, chaste kiss, and playfully nipped his bottom lip. “Bet everyone wanted to find the Prince, but I could care less because I got you, yeah?” There was something about his eyes, how they changed by what Eggsy said, but he couldn’t ask why as the clock suddenly struck midnight.

“Looks like ye can find out,” Was what this gorgeous man said. “Where are ye going?” He asked, as Eggsy sprang to his feet and tried to find a way out as people started to congregate into the Palace.

“I have to go,” Eggsy insisted and batted away the hand that tried to keep him there.

“Hey-”

“You don’t understand I have to leave. I am sorry.” Eggsy pressed one last kiss to his lips and ran off. He didn’t pay attention to the voice that followed him, or orders to guards to stop him.

Eggsy pushed past every person in his way, knocked a few guards over, and made it through the front doors. A look over his shoulder confirmed his partner had followed, but he couldn’t let him see who Eggsy truly was.

The carriage had pulled up and was waiting with one of his mice men waving him down. Eggsy made a quick retreat and didn’t turn back even as one of his trainers slipped off and nearly lost his footing down a few steps. He hopped in and watched the stranger pick up his fallen shoe, mask removed, but Eggsy was too far away to make out a face and rode through the streets as the clock struck twice.

And just as Harry promised, on the third strike, his pumpkin carriage fell apart beneath him, somehow little flecks of magical sparks fallen against dirt just as he did. For a moment, Eggsy was worried for ruining the outfit Harry had created for him, but looked down at his torn old makeshift costume. But the oddest thing was, out of all the magic that had disappeared, a single winged trainer glistened in the moonlight, completely intact and secure to Eggsy’s foot.

He twisted his ankle this way and that mesmerized by it until JB woofed beside him. Eggsy smiled brightly and scooped him up.

“JB!” He laughed while being showered in licks. Eggsy hugged him close before setting him down and getting up to stand.

Eggsy made the short walk home and wandered up to the attic where he decided to sleep that night. He didn’t wait up for Chester and the boys to hear them gloat about meeting the Prince; because Eggsy honestly didn’t care, he had met someone much more enchanting than a Prince.

As he lay on the thin cot, JB curled at his feet, with his tattered old soot covered blanket, Eggsy touched his lips; he could still feel the weight of the ones that pressed the gentlest kiss there.

For once, in what felt like a lifetime, Eggsy fell asleep without a trouble on his mind, and dreamed of the same man, dressed in whites with blue trim with fluffy brown curly hair, just as he had a few weeks prior.

And maybe he was worthy of these dreams.

Chapter Text

A week later Eggsy was surprised the twins were still sulking. They had not met the Prince and had each romanced the man they thought to be him, just because he had a Scottish accent. It didn’t bother him though, it had been half a fortnight since and Eggsy flitted around the house doing his chores with little complaint. He had the winged trainer tucked in a box, one he knew no one else would find, and enjoyed the fond memories he had from a magical night.

It was a boring Monday, all of the tending of the grounds done and Eggsy went about his dusting. Apparently King felt the work he had done yesterday ill-suited and he couldn’t figure the bug up his arse, but maybe it was because Eggsy was too cheery; for once he didn’t care.

He didn’t care that he had missed the unveiling, not really, Eggsy had had a night of fun, of love. It felt like love. Eggsy wondered if this was how his parent’s felt, because it sure felt like he could have followed his mystery man to the ends of the earth and without question. Eggsy doubted he’d ever see him again, but at least the experience would be one to last him the rest of his life, because love was real.

There was a firm knock on the door as Eggsy continued his chores, Charlie and Digby were out for the day, and Chester was puffing on a pipe while reading a paper. Another bang, metal met wood from the door knocker, and still Chester did not budge. Again. Eggsy sighed to himself, clearly the ‘head’ of the house wouldn’t be getting that. He set his work aside to answer and was met by a few men dressed with prestigious.

“Good afternoon,” Eggsy said politely. “May I help you?”

A tall, thin man with black rimmed glasses stepped forward, he was the most casually dressed in what Eggsy recognized as a bespoke suit.

“Hello, young man, I am Percival Lance personal Squire to the King of Scotland.” He gave an honest to God Royal bow.

Eggsy fumbled to mimic it, and couldn’t help himself. “A Squire? They still use them?” Percival did not seem impressed.

“The term is loosely based off of the traditional job of such. I am an advisor, counselor, and see to the proper training of the Prince these days.” He seemed to stand straighter, Eggsy thought his spine would crack. “I am in need to speak with the head of house, is that you?”

“Nah,” Eggsy snorted. “Step-father,” he called. Chester gave a low grumble as he lazily shuffled to the door. Eggsy found it rather amusing how he nearly dropped his cuppa and spilled tea on Percival’s shoes as he gave a Royal bow.

“Excuse me, but I seem to be at a disadvantage your…” Chester trailed off, clearly not sure how to address Percival. Eggsy stepped aside, but only enough so he couldn’t be seen.

“Percival Lance, Squire to the King of Scotland, Mr. King.” It appeared this man was well informed. “I am here on behalf of the King and his son.” Eggsy could see Chester almost lean into the man, clearly trying to absorb any information he was about to speak of.

“We are in search of the owner of this shoe.” Eggsy dropped the rag and can of cleaner he had been holding when Percival stepped aside and HIS winged trainer was nestled on a plush, purple pillow, to allow the guard to show off said shoe.

“You clumsy fool,” Chester growled as Eggsy scrambled to collect his items. “Off with you,” he hissed.

Eggsy backed a few paces away so that he could still listen but not be seen by Chester, as Percival went on to explain the trainer was left behind by a young man who had caught the Prince’s eye. Eggsy damn near choked on his own breath; he had spent the evening with the PRINCE!

“And your sons were the ones in attendance, yes?” Percival inquired, his eyes scrutinizing. “Is he one of them?” Eggsy went to come forward and speak, but Chester flung his arm out to stop him.

“No. He is but a mere servant.” Eggsy would have spoken up but Chester continued. “And my boys will be home this evening, if you would be willing to come back, that is?”

Percival leaned in and eyed Eggsy curiously for a moment, and continued. “I am afraid this evening would not work, Mr. King. I can return with my men tomorrow. We will be making our way through each household that had attended the ball.” Another formal bow was passed and soon Eggsy was alone with Chester.

Something about the way he stared at Eggsy climbed up his back and turned his heart to ice with the glare, as he walked forward.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that shoe, Eggsy, would you?” The question was more of a threat, that if Eggsy answered something Chester didn’t like he’d be in trouble.

“No,” Eggsy lied.

Chester took hold of Eggsy’s arm and hiked him up a bit. “You will make yourself scarce tomorrow, just like the good little servant you are.” Eggsy tried to get away. “That trainer will fit one of mine.” He sounded so sure, so absolute that it would miraculously fit on Charlie or Digby.

Eggsy snarled, “Their feet are too wide and long to fit such a size. Your sons will never be good enough to wed Royalty.”

Blue eyes blazed before cooling with glacial glare. “They won’t find you. You won’t ever be able to try your foot into that trainer.” He gripped Eggsy’s arm tighter and managed to drag him up the stairs to be shoved on to his cot before Chester closed and locked the door.

Eggsy ran up and screamed at the closed door.

---

“There is someone?” Merlin asked, tentative excitement in his voice.

Sebastian held onto the winged trainer that had slipped off his angel, as that’s exactly what the stranger was. Too soon after their shared kissed Sebastian’s mystery man had darted off with the first stroke of midnight, just short of finding out who he was. Sebastian had tried to stop him, but he was quicker as if his winged feet caused him to take flight.

Now all he was left with was a shoe, a simple sparkly white and silver footwear, and no idea who it belonged to. The only thing he knew for sure was the man was a Londoner, that much was easily recognizable, but dialect smooth and so Sebastian had called his father and their guards.

“Aye,” Sebastian answered as he paced the length of his father’s office. “Da.” He stopped to face him, desperation is his voice bled from his soul; he needed to find this person.

“This is all I have.” Sebastian handed it off to a guard. “He was dressed in the faintest of blue suits, wings...he was magical,” he whispered. Sebastian was so enthralled by the image from his memory, he missed the exchange his father and Percival had.

“The angel.” Percival nodded. “Yes. I do believe I spotted you two having a moment in the courtyard just behind the banquet room, outside.” Sebastian felt heat rise to his cheeks.

Merlin stared at his son. “We did, but I can’t do anything about it. I didn’t even catch his name. He fled on the first stroke of midnight and now all I have is that.” Sebastian pointed to the shoe. “How do we find him, da?”

“What was his accent?”

“London, for sure.” Sebastian watched his father bark orders, every one of their guards were to find this man.

“You have every eligible lad try it on. Search all of the houses that registered upon their arrival. Percival, ye will lead them. I trust you.” Merlin stood to touch Sebastian’s shoulder. “Is there anything, anything at all, that ye remember about him?”

Sebastian wracked his brain. “His hair, it was a honey-brown, rich and thick, and...a mole. He had this interesting mole by his throat, right here.” Sebastian pointed to his Adam’s apple.

“Ye got that, Percival?”

“Your Majesty.” Percival bowed. “Alright. We have a job to do.”

As soon as they were out of the room Sebastian threw himself into his father’s arms. “They’ll find him, aye? We have the best?”

Merlin hugged him back. “I have faith in Percival, lad.” He soothed a hand through Sebastian’s hair. “Come. Let’s go riding for a bit.”

Sebastian smiled warmly. It had been something they used to do when he was frustrated with his studies.

“Alright.”

---

Eggsy cried himself to sleep, no sense in trying to get out. He thought about climbing out of the window, but where would he go? How would he get JB out safely? And what the fuck would he do with no money? He could run to Scotland, but then what? Oh, by the way, I am that guy who dressed as an angel and we should marry?

Once the King and Prince got a good look at him they’d just laugh and toss Eggsy on his arse, and then he’d truly be no good; just as Chester always told him. He stirred awake, there were voices echoed up the stairs, almost angry ones...no. They were frustrated. Eggsy heard grunts, and hollering.

He wiped the sleep crust from his eyes, worked away at the tear tracks down his face, and stood by the door. JB followed behind. Eggsy put his ear to the door and could hear Chester.

“See!” Chester exclaimed. “It fits!” Eggsy snorted to himself. “No...no!” Eggsy heard a pop, and something flying off.

“They ain’t getting that on, yeah JB?” He looked at the pug and gave him a pet. Eggsy wandered over to his bed and dug under a corner in the mattress, that had been eaten away by moths, and found the remaining trainer. It sparkled and shone, flecks of sunlight catching the glitter, as he turned it this way and that.

There was a bigger commotion, someone sounded angry, he figured it Charlie. But there were stomps up the stairs.

“No. You cannot be up here!” Chester shoved someone.

Eggsy stood and backed away, there was a lot of ruckus going on outside his door. He was just about to climb out the window when the door flew open; Percival and a few guards stepped through with a detained Chester.

“What is your name, young man?” Percival inquired calmly.

“Eggsy.” He sized Percival up, he looked kind and gentle, but there was something dangerous about his eyes behind thick, black rimmed glasses.

“Eggsy,” Percival said, seemed to test his name on his tongue. “You are a single man, yes?” Eggsy nodded his head. “Would you be so kind as to join me in the parlor? I would like you to try the shoe on as well.”

“Boy’s never been outside this house.” Chester struggled against the men holding him. “It won’t fit.” But Eggsy could see the fear in Chester’s eyes.

“I would, yes,” Eggsy replied politely. He followed them out, Chester in front, and Eggsy at the rear. He saw Charlie and Digby standing around the fire in the parlor, both sullen and pouting worse then toddlers who were denied candy.

“If you would sit, please.” Percival waved a hand to the chair. All of a sudden Eggsy didn’t feel like he was home, but when in that last 2 years did he feel at home?

Eggsy sat and waited.

Percival snapped his fingers summoning one of the guards who walked over with the shoe, which was pillowed on the same purple cushion, but tripped when Chester stuck his foot out.

It was like everything happened in slow motion, with just one trip of his foot the winged trainer went flying, several others tried to catch it before it fell into the burning fire. Percival was frantic to find anything to get it out, until Charlie came to the ‘rescue’ and dumped a cup full of clear liquid into it, which only caused the fire to blaze.

“Oops, must have been father’s martini,” he said, not so apologetically.

If Eggsy thought Percival was calm, he was sadly mistaken because the man lunged at Chester with a knife drawn. As much as Eggsy wouldn’t mind not ever seeing his step-father again, he couldn't see bloodshed over a shoe.

“Wait!” Eggsy yelled. “Wait,” he said more calmly when Percival stopped. “I...I have the matching shoe.”

“Liar,” Chester managed around the blade to his throat.

Eggsy shook his head, reached behind where he had hidden it in the cushion of the chair as he sat, and produced the other winged trainer. He had the pleasure of watching Chester’s eyes bulge and damn near pop out of the sockets, Charlie and Digby fainted over one another, while Percival let him go and came forward with a small smile on his face.

“It wasn’t the hair that gave you away,” Percival said. Eggsy scrunched his face, confused. “My Prince remembered two distinct things about you, hair.” He touched Eggsy’s messy waves. “And mole.” Percival gestured to his own throat. “It’s why I insisted on seeing you.”

“He remembered things about me?” Eggsy whispered, shocked, as he plopped onto the chair with a huff.

“You seem to have had quite an effect on him,” Percival explained as he gently took the shoe from Eggsy and placed it onto the proper foot. “Fits like a glove.”

Eggsy ignored Chester’s screams of agony while he twisted his ankle this way and that, just to see the sparkles shimmer.

Percival stood with a hand offered to Eggsy. “I do believe I was to bring the Prince’s angel to him.” Eggsy beamed as he accepted the hand, and didn’t give a second glance as he was led out of the place that had housed so many lovely memories, and bad ones over the years.

He was just about to get into the carriage when he stopped. “Hold on.” Percival looked curiously at him. “I need my dog, JB,” Eggsy explained and darted back in to grab his pup and ran back out. He didn’t care what happened to Chester, Charlie, and Digby.

Once settled into the carriage, Eggsy looked at Percival. “I don’t really care what happens, so long as you don’t have them killed.”

Percival gave a small bow of his head. “As you wish, sir.”

Eggsy curled JB close and looked out the back window to watch the place he once called home, disappear in the distance.

Chapter Text

The ride was a lot longer than Eggsy had expected. They made a stop halfway to rest at a bed and breakfast. It was far grander than Eggsy could have ever imagined, fit for a King...a Prince. Which was precisely how Percival and the Royal guards were treating him. Eggsy took to a nice long soak in the claw-foot tub located in a bathroom bigger than the attic he once lived in.

Using past tense for his living situation was a bit odd, if he were being completely honest with himself. But the idea sent a thrill through his blood stream. Soon he’d be face to face with the man who had swept him off of his feet that one magical evening. Eggsy grinned foolishly half the night.

His stomach in knots as they set out the next morning to the Palace, except Percival kept calling it a castle. He’d be living in a bloody castle! If Eggsy hadn’t believed in fairy tales before, he surely would now. He was living one.

It wasn’t as large as he’d depicted it to be, but large enough to cause his chest to tighten, throat closed with anxiety as the carriage stopped outside a red carpet outside the castle doors. Eggsy waited as Percival got out first and was met with a hand reached in to help him out. He took the offered hand, expecting Percival on the other end, but his eyes met a striking blue set. The same ones he was faced with that day in his yard.

He was just a hair shorter than Eggsy, smile wide and gorgeous as it creased his face adorably. And by the looks of it, this was easily the Prince. He was dressed in full Royal garb, just beyond him was a tall, bald man who gave a small nod.

“You,” Eggsy whispered breathlessly. “It was you.” Somehow that made the Prince laugh, it was a gorgeous sound and made Eggsy swoon. “It was you,” he accused weakly.

“Aye.” The Scottish brogue wrapped around him, just as smooth and magical as he remembered. “You wouldn’t wait for me to reveal myself.” His eyes danced as they surveyed Eggsy. “But ye didn't mention anything about being the brash man I met in the field.”

Eggsy’s cheeks burned, eyes cast away a moment as he murmured, “You were trespassing.” He knew the allegation carried no heat, but at least Eggsy could enjoy the way the Prince seemed to find that amusing.

“I apologize.” He surprised Eggsy by giving him a formal bow. “But I hope that ye will give me a chance to make it up?” A throat cleared, Eggsy noted it to be the taller man. “Excuse me. I must have forgotten my manners. I am Sebastian, Prince of Scotland, heir to the throne.”

He returned the bow in kind, as best as he knew. “Eggsy, well, Gary Unwin, but I go by Eggsy.”

“Eggsy?” Sebastian sounded out the name, allowed it to roll over his tongue; Eggsy was lost the moment Sebastian spoke his name. “I like it.”

“Yeah.” Eggsy agreed around a nervous laugh. “My dad gave me the name and nickname. Not sure what he was thinking, but been called that my whole life.” He shrugged. “It’s what I’m used to.”

Sebastian leaned in a bit, took Eggsy’s hand again to lace his fingers through his. “It’s wonderful,” he assured.

Eggsy took a few deep breaths. He was here for a reason, to meet his Prince charming, to wed Sebastian. He tried to wade through the fog in his brain, work past the way Sebastian was just that much closer; his breath hot and welcome against his lips.

“I understand I was brought to be your husband.” He instinctively shifted closer to Sebastian, vision blurred their audience out, and all that remained was them. “I’m sure you’re quite disappointed to find a commoner before you. One who you first met with a soot covered face, no money, no real titles, no-” Sebastian cut Eggsy off with a light kiss pressed to his lips.

He had forgotten how to breathe, how to speak, and bowed forward when Sebastian tipped away to trap his chin between forefinger and thumb.

“There is nothing disappointing about ye.” Eggsy’s eyes slipped shut as Sebastian’s thumb traced his bottom lip. “I thought ye looked beautiful with yer soot covered face, enchanting during the ball, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Sebastian’s hand slid up to cradle his cheek; Eggsy pressed into it with a slight smile. “And I’d very much like ye to stand beside me as I rule, be my husband. If ye’d still have me, that is.”

Eggsy slipped his hand over Sebastian’s. “Yes,” he whispered.

Sebastian’s smile was blinding, lit up his whole face, and soon cupped his other cheek to coax Eggsy into a deeper kiss. It started slow, but pressed firmer to his lips, and grew with unspoken affection. When they separated, Eggsy’s grin matched Sebastian’s; wide, lips pulled to show flashy teeth.

The rest was history as Eggsy was tossed into introductions. The King, who he later found out was called Merlin, was kind, caring, and everything his son was. It was like his life had been put on fast forward, the plans for a Royal wedding more complex than anything he’d ever done in life. But luckily most was planned for them, and Eggsy couldn’t give a fuck as he stood in front of Sebastian. A crowd full of Royals, some commoners of Scotland, and an army of guards witnessed them promise their loyalty to one another.

Sebastian held the cool silver band over his ring finger, slipped it over with ease, and held Eggsy’s hands tightly. He was a vision in his blue jacket, gold buttons on the front, a set of the tightest white trousers he’d ever seen; Sebastian was gorgeous. It was then that Eggsy realized his dreams had conjured up this image for him, a man in blue and white who pulled him into a breathtaking kiss as their audience cheered, the priest declaring them husbands.

As they stood for photos, not at all pretending to be the elated newly married couple that they were, and wandered out to a balcony that overlooked the people gathered below the castle. Eggsy had never felt more at home, more at peace with his life as his new husband wrapped a strong arm around his waist, and waved to all who came to celebrate their union.

“You look stunning, by the way,” Sebastian paused to whisper into his ear.

Eggsy turned to meet Sebastian’s loving gaze and closed the small space between them to take his lips in a soft, warm kiss, one that sent heat to his toes. They ignored the hoots, hollers, as they tipped into one another, a hand wandered up his back to sweep through his carefully styled hair.

And he didn’t have a mind to care, not when he had his happily ever after.