Chapter Text
Casualties within the heart of the Kingsman Organization were slowly accounted for in the days that followed the Richmond Valentine incident. Thankfully, Arthur hadn’t had the time to get his hands on many others, and only one other Agent had been found as a headless corpse, hiding deep in the Kingsman armory. When Merlin received the report, he wasn’t surprised. Guinevere’s role was to always be Arthur’s right hand.
Playing leader of the organization in Arthur’s absence was difficult, but even more difficult was supporting Eggsy in the days following his heroism. Merlin struggled to communicate to him, that he couldn’t reveal the happenings and going ons within the Kingsman if Eggsy himself was not a Kingsman. Unfortunately, without an Arthur, there was no way to knight a new agent. Eggsy deserved a part as much as anyone, especially the vacant seat of Galahad, but Merlin’s hands were tied, and he tried again and again to explain that to the young man.
Eggsy had a hard time accepting this as fact, but Merlin tried to keep his hopes up. He visited him as often as possible to ensure that the young man was still training, was still keeping up his skills and abilities. Eggsy would someday become an important and irreplaceable asset to the Organization, but that day had not yet come.
In the meanwhile, of the nine Agents, five were physically available for missions: the new Lancelot, the ever reliable Gawain, the dedicated Gareth, the fiery tempered Lamorak, and the much older Bors. Percival was enduring intense emotional therapeutic sessions, trying work through the traumatic stress he had earned after coming to in the middle of a market with the blood of an uncountable number on his hands. Kay, unfortunately, had suffered several gunshot wounds despite his training, when he had gotten caught in V-day, and was slowly recovering in the Manor’s personal infirmary. Bedivere was picking up the pieces of his family, mourning the wife he had lost during V-day, while also having to care for an injured son and daughter, both of whom had barely managed to survive the scrapes they had gotten involved in. Galahad was… well. They had already drank a toast to Galahad.
But Kingsmen were Kingsmen, and despite those being out of commision, they still managed to pull themselves together to make a vote for the new Arthur. Merlin would have been happy to deliver the news to Eggsy, but he couldn’t. Classified was classified, and despite everything that Eggsy had done for Kingsman, for the world, he was not allowed to share the news until the time was right.
So Kingsman conducted their ceremony without Eggsy. Crowning the new Arthur always happened with a bit of pomp and circumstance. It was a celebration of sorts, a coronation. It involved gathering the primary Agents, and other higher ranking positions. Merlin headed the ceremony, which involved extracting Excalibur from deep within the Kingsman vaults. Those who could not physically make it were present via their headset glasses, but many made the effort to travel the distance to be there to congratulate the new head of their organization.
It would take several more weeks before the planets would align and Merlin could open up to Eggsy during one of their more intense training sessions. He had finally been given permission to deliver the news. He waited until Eggsy was out of breath, sweaty, tired and collapsed on the ground, with JB resting comfortably in his lap.
Merlin maneuvered himself in front of Eggsy, looking down at him. “We have a position for you.”
The young man looked up. Merlin saw the expression on his face change from excitement, to nerves, to cautious optimism, before finally settling on something a little more neutral. Merlin wondered if Eggsy was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from displaying any other emotions. “Yeah?” He was trying to sound nonchalant.
“You,” Merlin began, straightening his back and his shoulders, his hands clasped behind him, “have been offered the position of Guinevere.”
Eggsy couldn’t hide the shock on his face, as his jaw fell and his eyes widened. “Is this a fucking joke?”
“Absolutely not. Arthur has hand picked you for the position, based on your test scores, your aptitude, and your performance under pressure during the Valentine incident.”
“Guinevere!?” Eggsy seemed stuck on the name. “But that’s--”
Merlin rolled his eyes behind his glasses. He had thought Eggsy was better than that. “If you are going to point out the implied gender of the code names, then perhaps you should take that issue up with Lancelot.”
Eggsy had jumped to his feet by now, and he was shaking his head. He looked frustrated and annoyed. “That ain’t it. I don’t give a fuck about gender. It’s just Guinevere ain’t Galahad, cuz!”
Of course that was the reason for the young man’s frustrations. Merlin should have known. All this time Eggsy had been gunning for the position, desperate to fill the shoes that Harry had left empty after that incident at the South Glade Mission Church. It should have been the perfect fit, Eggsy had been Harry’s proposal, Harry’s protege, Harry’s pet project, but Merlin was only fulfilling the commands set forth by the new Arthur. “I am aware that, yes, but Galahad’s position is vacant, and will remain vacant until the higher positions have been filled.”
“Higher?” Eggsy sounded skeptical.
“Surely you are familiar enough with the mythos to know Guinevere?”
Eggsy responded to the question with a pointed look, as if insulted that Merlin would even suggest he be so uninformed.
“Of course.” Merlin tried to hide a smile of amusement. “Then you also know that the queen is more powerful than any other piece in a game of chess.”
The position, code name Guinevere, was a complicated one at best. No other spot, not even Merlin, could work as closely to and as intimately with Arthur as Guinevere. It was literally the Queen. It ran the most dangerous, the most important, and the most time sensitive missions the Kingsman would permit for a solo agent. It went undercover, it assassinated, it escorted, it fought, it got captured and tortured and killed. It ran in places to save Arthur the risk of losing his or her own life. Its mission statement: Protect the king at all costs. In the nearly hundred year history of the Kingsman, most Knights were on their third or fourth generation. Lancelot, historically quite reckless, was on its sixth. Guinevere, however, was on its tenth, provided Eggsy would accept the position.
“And Arthur hand selected me?” Eggsy asked, still skeptical. It was going to take a lot of convincing. “I mean, who the fuck is Arthur to want me for a part like that?”
Merlin sighed, a long suffering one. “I’m afraid I can not divulge that information until you have been officially welcomed into the Kingsman. There is a ceremony. There are traditions that must be considered.”
“Rox told me all about her ‘ceremony’. Just hand me the gun already.”
“It’s more complicated with Guinevere. There has to be a…” Merlin paused. It was difficult to explain the ceremony to an outsider like Eggsy. It would be the first time the position would be offered to someone without a long standing history within the organization. Eggsy was familiar with the inner workings of the Kingsman, but he wasn’t familiar with the traditions. “...a wedding. Of sorts.”
“A what.” Eggsy’s face went slack with confusion, mouth open, brow furrowed.
“A wedding,” Merlin repeated. “Of sorts.” There was an amused sort of smile playing at the corners of his lips now. He was obviously enjoying Eggsy’s bewilderment.
The tradition of the wedding went as far back as the original Arthur and the original Guinevere. She had been romantically involved with Arthur, but she had also been one of the best and most talented agents, Unfortunately she wasn’t allowed to hold one of the Knight code names because she was a woman, so instead she ran secret missions on Arthur’s behalf. When the two had agreed to get married, it became a Kingsman affair. It was a celebration, a joining of two people in an everlasting partnership, and she was granted the code name Guinevere. After she had been killed, the original Arthur, in his mourning, forbid any other woman take her place, and he died shortly thereafter, a casualty in a crucial mission.
When the new Arthur took his place, he reinstated the position of Guinevere, so as to not risk his own life, after all he was the king and had better things to do than run around in dangerous situations. He insisted that a position of that much importance couldn’t belong to a woman, and since then it became a position usually held by experienced, talented younger men who were willing to risk life and limb for the Organization and for Arthur. The wedding tradition, however, persisted, as a means of representing their full commitment and sacrifice. Til death.
“It’s just a formality. It’s more like a knighting ceremony than anything else. It’s not as though we expect you to go home with Arthur and consummate the marriage. It’s just tradition. The same sort of tradition that dictated that you got to spend twenty-four hours with Harry after you made it to the final two.”
Eggsy’s face fell at the mention of Harry. It was still a sore spot for the young man. There hadn’t been any closure. He didn’t even have the time to mourn Harry before he was thrown into that scenario to stop Richmond Valentine. When it was over, he was too shook up. He had too many other things to think about, about his mother, about his sister, about Ryan and Jamal. Thoughts about Harry drifted in late at night when he was alone, lying in the empty apartment Merlin set up for him. He wished he could have apologized more. He wished Harry’s last words to him hadn’t been ones that were so frustrated, so disappointed. Everything he had done that day had been about trying to repay him.
“So you expect me,” Eggsy finally managed, as he recovered from the shock and confusion, “to agree to be the right hand man to Arthur, when I have no idea who he is.”
“Unfortunately, yes. But if you agree to accept the position that we have offered you, then we can set the wheels in motion and have you inducted into Kingsman by Friday.”
“That’s in four days.”
“We’ll have a dress made up by then.” Merlin’s lips quirked into an amused sort of grin, as Eggsy’s expression turned to something he could only describe as a combination of shock and dismay.
“That was a joke.” The lack of turn up the end of Eggsy’s words was a desperate attempt to convince himself that there was no possibility it wasn’t a joke. Merlin refused to give him the satisfaction.
“It will be wonderfully bespoke per Arthur’s specifications.”
“Fuck off!” Eggsy threw his hands in the air in an exaggerated look of defeat. “And if I refuse?”
Merlin sighed, and he pushed up at his glasses, though they barely had slipped down the bridge of his nose. There small bit of levity they had just shared between them did little to change the fact that speaking of the organization was serious matter. “If you refuse, there is no guarantee that you will be a potential candidate for Galahad.”
This was true, after all, failed candidates were only eligible if they were proposed a second time by a different agent. While Merlin had every bit of faith that Lancelot would jump at the opportunity to present Eggsy as her proposal, it was still no guarantee he would make it through the rigorous training a second time, and Merlin knew, deep in his gut, even with the knowledge that the gun is loaded with a blank, Eggsy would refuse to shoot his dog every time.
Eggsy seemed to understand this too, and he hung his head.
“This is your best opportunity to join Kingsman, Eggsy. It’s a personal invitation from Arthur himself. This is the first time the position of Guinevere has ever been offered to an outsider.” Merlin paused and then reached into his pocket, holding out as leather eyeglass case, inside holding the very same pair Eggsy had worn during the raid on Richmond Valentine’s base. They both knew its contents, and Merlin could see Eggsy’s hesitation clear as day on his face. “There are no tests. There is no training, but accepting the position means Galahad will forever be out of reach.”
Galahad was an important name for both of them. Merlin understood this more than anyone else. If he had the power, he would have handed the name to Eggsy without a second thought. Unfortunately, the universe does not work in that particular way. The universe likes to complicate things, which leaves both men here, staring at each other, with a pair of glasses between them.
“Do you want this?”
“Yeah. I do.”
Merlin closed his fingers around the case, drawing it back into his pocket with a satisfied sort of sound, unable to permit Eggsy to actually receive his glasses yet. “Then we’ll arrange for Friday.” He had traded the glasses for a small, paper thin tablet, and tapped on the screen a few times. He was sending a message to the newly appointed Arthur: Guinevere. OK.
A moment later a response appeared. I do. It was a cheeky response, and Merlin shouldn’t have expected anything less. He shook his head with a barely there smile on his lips, before returning his attention to Eggsy. “I’ll arrange for a pick up on Friday morning, 7 sharp. You will be brought to the tailor on Savile Road, and you will await further instructions there.”
“I feel like you’re setting me up for my first mission,” Eggsy commented with a laugh, and for the first time in months he looked happy and hopeful. “What kinda shit does Guinevere do anyway?”
It was the question Merlin wanted least to hear. How does he even begin to explain how important the role was to Arthur, how deadly and risky it often proved to be. He pursed his lips together and then shook his head slowly. “That is for you to discuss with Arthur after your appointment. The job description is--”
“Lemme guess, classified?” After the amount of times Merlin had been forced to feed Eggsy that line, it was no surprise the young man jumped immediately to that conclusion.
“Exactly.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.”
Merlin took this moment as the opportunity to excuse himself. There wasn’t more to say that didn’t risk revealing everything to Eggsy prematurely. He had been biting his tongue on the issue for months now, and four more days wasn’t going to kill either of them, even if Eggsy’s sour, disappointed face cut into him more deeply than he ever cared to admit. He understood what Harry had seen in Eggsy’s potential, same as he had seen in Lee; but he grew to appreciate what Harry saw in Eggsy as a person.
JB ran circles around Merlin’s ankles as he maneuvered his way to the door, stopping only once to offer him the smallest treat, which elicited a bark of happiness from the young pug. Obviously the dog agreed with Harry.
“Friday,” Merlin reminded him as he stood at the threshold.
“Yeah, Friday,” Eggsy echoed in agreement to Merlin’s broad back, before the door shut behind him.
The last few months had been difficult and lonely, but Eggsy was grateful. How many people got the chance to live in a flat for free, no matter how sparsely furnished and dull it was? It was an opportunity to keep him away from his stepfather, and it kept him away from his mother and sister on the off chance he were to targeted by surviving supporters of Valentine’s mission. Until he was officially a Kingsman, there was no guaranteed way to keep them safe, no equipment, no weapons, no surveillance. Merlin’s support, up until now, was independent of the organization.
Eggsy wondered if Harry would have been impressed with him. When he finally managed to find his footing in the events following V-Day, his mind drifted to Harry. It felt too late to mourn him by then. He never had the opportunity to experience the other stages of grief, forced instead to jump straight to acceptance, but sometimes he missed Harry so much it hurt. Sometimes when he lay in bed late at night his whole being ached with longing. Harry was gone. He didn’t understand how someone could become so important, could mean so much and leave that much of an impact in a person’s life in such a short time.
The codename Galahad was everything Eggsy had been working towards, the last and only thing of Harry’s he wanted to keep selfishly for himself. Days and nights of training, only to be delivered the news that Galahad would be out of reach. He was being offered something bigger and better and greater than Galahad,according to Merlin, but he didn’t know what the position of Guinevere would entail; what it meant to work closely with Arthur; who Arthur even was.
The codename Arthur conjured up images of Chester King. If the current Arthur were anything like Chester then Eggsy would refuse to be held responsible for the man turning up beaten, battered, broken or dead. Fortunately, Merlin did know that much about him.
The days that lead up to Guinevere’s appointment went by in the same usual flurry that filled the days of those in the Kingsman. Limping to normalcy for the world, meant that there were always missions to be had. Mercenaries keep working, kidnappings don’t stop, assassinations still planned. The ceremony, as was the case with Arthur, would be a relief from the work: a much needed day of rest. Even it sounded ridiculous, there were reasons certain traditions persisted after all these years.
Eggsy was on the street and waiting for the predictably punctual black taxi when it arrived early Friday morning. He didn’t recognize the driver, but he had a difficult time recognizing members of the Kingsman. The more Merlin admitted to the classified nature of the organization, the more he realized he didn’t know anything about the organization, and now here he was diving headfirst into god knows what.
Thankfully Roxanne was in the back seat. She was handsome in her bespoke suit and glasses. The caramel color of the jacket suited her perfectly, and she was smiling at him. There was a speck of blood on the cuff of her sleeve, forcing Eggsy to ask if she had just come from a mission.
“Classified,” she responded with a smirk. She had spent the last several months reveling in her ability to say that to nearly every question Eggsy had for her. There wasn’t going to be much more opportunity come the end of the day.
“Of course.” Eggsy rolled his eyes, but he was hugging his old friend anyway. “So are you my escort or something? Cuz that would be hilarious.”
Roxy chuckled, and the reference wasn’t entirely lost on her. Even if it hadn’t been tradition for Guinevere to be escorted by Lancelot, she would have made the request herself. She felt like it had been years since she had last seen Eggsy, because her missions kept her busy and Merlin was likely correct in assuming that she wouldn’t be able to keep certain things classified if Eggsy begged long enough. It wasn’t as though he thought she couldn’t keep secrets, it was rather that Roxy was Eggsy’s biggest supporter. She, more than any of the other agents, thought the position of Galahad should have been handed over with no question. She had even gone so far as to refer to the young man by the code name on several occasions. “I am your escort, and it isn’t considered an extramarital affair until you’ve officially married Arthur.”
“Oh, naughty.” Eggsy kissed Roxy on the cheek. She smelled a little like gunpowder. “So how much do you know about Arthur, anyway? I mean, you can finally tell me what he’s like, right?”
Merlin had warned Roxy that the question would come up, and she had been anticipating it. The fact that Eggsy even managed to get a few other statements out prior was much more patient of him than she had expected. “The only thing I’m allowed to tell you, is that Arthur has been an agent in the past, but has not been able to fulfill field duties since getting injured on the job. And let’s be honest here, Eggsy. You don’t know the agents, you don’t know all of those who have been employed by the Kingsman. Even if I tell you his name, he could just be a complete stranger to you.”
Eggsy had considered that. He had more than considered it even, but hearing it from Roxy’s lips sort of made him deflate with a sigh. “And he picked me?”
“He saw what you did against Richmond Valentine. The footage was a compelling argument and Merlin fought for you every step of the way. Kingsman needs a Queen, and you were the best man for the job.” Roxy was matter of fact, but her lips curled into an amused smile as she lead into her next statement, “Besides, I’m dying to see what you’ll look like in the dress Arthur had made.”
“Dress! Merlin said the same thing! It ain’t really a dress, is it?”
Roxy shook her head, but that cat-like smile remained firmly on her lips. She had obviously been spending too much time with Merlin recently. The expressions were the same. “I wouldn’t know, I haven’t seen it.” With a look like that, Eggsy had no idea if she was serious or not.
He pouted and slumped down in the back seat, arms folded across his chest. Roxy nudged him with his elbow and he let out a sigh. “This is some kinda elaborate joke, innit? I’m gonna show up in a dress and Merlin’ll yell, ‘Surprise, you’re Galahad!’ It was just wishful thinking, even though he had the last few days to think about it, to accept the fact that he would never be Galahad, that the only thing left of Harry’s would no longer be his for the taking.
The best Roxy could do was offer Eggsy’s knee an encouraging, apologetic squeeze. She wanted to say more, but she wasn’t allowed. Merlin was monitoring them from at least three different angles, so the rest of the ride occurred mostly in silence. There were a few questions on Roxy’s part for Eggsy, asking about his mother, his sister, his friends. He responded honestly, that he hasn’t been allowed to see them that much. That Merlin made it quite clear that until he had official Kingsman safety nets in place, there wasn’t anything he could do for them.
Choosing to accept the position of Guinevere was as much about his family as it was about his desire to be with the only other people he cared about.
The taxi pulled up to the Kingsman tailor shop. It looked the same as ever, though the suits in the window display were changed to something more suited to the winter holiday: long woolen coats, patterned scarves, tall boots, hats and jumpers. The last time Eggsy had been in this shop, he had been responsible for murdering the previous Arthur; now he was becoming his partner.
He snorted his disbelief at the door. “I feel like I’ve gone absolutely mental,” he muttered to himself.
“Mr Unwin, perfect timing.” One of the tailors was standing in wait for him by Dressing Room 2. Harry’s words drifted into Eggsy’s mind, dragging a reluctant chuckle from his chest. Harry had been relentless in his teasing during those twenty-four hours they spent together: the almost touches, the closeness, the innuendo. Eggsy was dying towards the end. He had practically been counting on Harry getting his measurements himself.
In the end, the bespoke suit, made per Harry’s specifications was the closest Eggsy got to Harry’s hands on every inch of him.
“We have your dress laid out for you, sir.”
Eggsy looked frantically for Roxy’s support, but she was already disappearing into Dressing Room 3. The tailor, a thin, angular older gentleman named Shelly, gestured towards the second room, with a tilt of his head and a slight bend of his body. He had spent many years as a first rate assassin among the Kingsmen, but found retirement in the handling of their bespoke suits over the years. That didn’t make his gaze any less terrifying. “Come along, Mr Unwin.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.”
“Do you require assistance getting dressed?”
“Nah, I got it. I can put on a suit myself, thanks.”
“Fair enough, sir.” Shelly held the door open until Eggsy stepped inside, and he pulled it shut behind him.
Eggsy stood for what felt like a decade in the room. He had never been in this room. He had memories of the first one, with it’s long slow descent, with Harry looking over his shoulders and delivering that speech to him. He had memories of the third one, where he was able to joke and show off just how relaxed he had become in the older gentleman’s presence. The second room was a mystery to him.
It looked the same as all the others, but whatever secrets it held, he couldn’t uncover them on his own. He turned his attention to the garment bag instead.
Inside the garment bag, despite his fears, was not a dress. Instead it was an impeccably tailored off-white, double breasted suit, with the barest, faintest gray-blue pinstriping. A crisp white shirt, dark leather shoulder holsters, a gray-blue pocket square and his tie. The same tie from his first and only mission as Eggsy Unwin.
It couldn’t have been the same one. That had been sliced clean through by Gazelle, but there it was, with it’s navy blue field and golden and red stripes. Eggsy reached for it. He held it. He cradled it. It felt old and worn. It smelled…
Like Harry.
The realization hit Eggsy like a truck. This wasn’t his tie. It was Harry’s. The same one he wore when they first met. The same one he wore on his last mission. The same one he had died in.
It took Eggsy a long time to get dressed. He was slow and deliberate in his motions. Everything had been prepared for him, even a fresh pair of boxer shorts, matching socks and garters. He slid into the pressed trousers. He did up the stiff, black, leather belt. He took his time with each button of his shirt. He carefully tied the laces of his perfectly fitting oxfords. When he finally stopped to look in the mirror, he raised his arm and very carefully did up the cuffs of his shirtsleeves. He repeated the motion on his left.
Finally the glasses.
“Took you long enough,” Merlin’s voice came through the speaker, clear as day, as if he were speaking directly into his ear. “I need to run through the rest of the day’s itinerary.”
“I--”
“Everything fits perfectly?”
“A bespoke suit always fits.” Eggsy echoed the line that Merlin had fed him on that jet months ago.
“Right it does.” Merlin sounded amused on the other side. “Lancelot has already gone on ahead. The ceremony happens at headquarters, so you’ll have to take the transport tube there. From there-”
“Merlin,” Eggsy interrupted, “It’s Harry’s tie.”
There was a pause on the other side of the headset, and then the sound of Merlin’s baritone chuckle. “You noticed, good. I thought you would appreciate it.”
“Thank…” Eggsy felt a little choked up, and the word got caught in his throat. He swallowed, trying to find his voice. “Thank you.”
There was another pause, a little longer than the first. Finally Merlin spoke again. “You will take the transport tube to headquarters,” it was as if he hadn’t gotten derailed in the first place. “From there I’ll meet you and be your escort until the ceremony.”
Eggsy was actually a little grateful for Merlin’s ability to disconnect from the emotions, because it dragged his attention back on track. He remembered where he was, what he was there for. He listened carefully to Merlin talking him through the rest of the day, leading up to the moment he would meet Arthur and officially join Kingsman.
“From there, as tradition allows, you will have twenty-four hours to spend with him. He will be the one to debrief you on your position, what it entails and the risk therein.”
“Just like when it came down to me and Rox, yeah?”
“Exactly like that.”
Eggsy emerged from the dressing room and gave Shelly a smirk in response to the nod of approval towards his brand new suit. It felt just like the suit he had been given by Merlin on that jet. Shelly was also on hand, literally, to activate the Dressing Room 1 lift. The older man wasn’t particularly talkative, but he did compliment himself on the fine tailoring job he had done on the suit, and he also complimented Eggsy on his broad shoulders and slim waist. “There aren’t many people who can pull off a double breasted suit so effortlessly,” he said, as Eggsy stepped off towards the tube. “I wish I could attend the wedding, but my job is never done.”
Eggsy climbed into the awaiting tube. He sat in the same reverse facing seat he had sat in before. It took off like a rocket. It was quiet, he was quiet. Merlin had disconnected the communications temporarily. It felt like everytime he rode in this tube it took forever: a forty minute ride stretched out over an emotional eternity.
The last time Eggsy rode in the transport tube, he was trying to find Merlin and Roxy, clutching a chip in one hand and Arthur’s phone in the other. At the time he had been so caught up in what had occurred in that dining room, that he hadn’t had the opportunity to think about Harry sitting across from him. Today, with that tie around his neck, all Eggsy could do was think of Harry. Harry sitting there in that dark, pinstriped suit. An uncomfortable silence had hung between them.
If Eggsy had known he would lose the older gentleman, he would have tried to talk more. He would have tried to get to know him.
The carriage lurched to a stop.
Merlin stood on the other side of the door as it slid open. Eggsy couldn’t stop himself from grinning. It was the first time he had ever seen the gentleman in anything other than jumpers and trousers. He was in a sharp suit and had switched out his casual glasses for the same heavy rimmed agent regulation frames. It distracted him from his thoughts of Harry.
“Wow, you look good! What’s the special occasion?”
Merlin made a face and gave an exaggerated, sarcastic laugh. “Come on, I’ll show you around the headquarters. Arthur isn’t quite ready for you yet. Can you keep that suit clean for the next few hours?”
“And risk you charging me an arm and a leg for it, hell yes I can keep it clean.”
“A literal arm and leg,” Merlin corrected, as he shifted his clipboard from one arm to the other. He gestured, leading the way. “Arthur would be quite disappointed to know that he can’t join us for the first leg of the tour, but he wouldn’t be able to keep up anyway.”
“Keep up? How old is he?”
“Not that old.”
Eggsy would have glared at Merlin, but he had learned over the past few months that very little could make the older man crack on his confidentiality. As much as he hated to admit, Eggsy liked that about him. He was so alike and so different from Harry all at once. He smiled more for one. His humor was a little darker for another. It was comforting.
“Is he Chester King old?”
“No, not that old.”
“Is he Merlin old?”
Merlin stopped, turned his head slowly and regarded Eggsy with a long look. Eggsy grinned back at him in response. With a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes, Merlin resumed walking, pretending that the younger lad hadn’t just called him old. He spoke a little about the Manor, about the age, about the underground expansion. He was filling in the time before the ceremony, but Arthur’s voice was in his ear telling him to wait a little longer.
The tour around the manor involved showing Eggsy the familiar old stomping grounds. There was something that felt ghostlike and abandoned about the space. There was a fine layer of neglect over the surfaces that had once been kept sparkling clean by Eggsy and the other candidates. They took a walk down the same paths that Merlin had forced them to run with their brand new puppies. The grass was brown, and coated with a dusting of last night’s snow. Eggsy made an offhand comment that JB would be much happier here, instead of cooped up in the tiny one bed flat. Merlin responded that once he was officially a Kingsman Agent, the grounds would be fully available for JB to roam.
“You’ll recognize a few of the attendants today,” Merlin continued as they started towards the ceremony hall, located at the heart of the headquarters, several stories underground. “And a few you won’t, but rest assured that you will become well acquainted with them in time.”
“And Arthur?” Eggsy took a deep breath, standing there in front of the large wooden doors.
“You’ll be well acquainted with him too.” Merlin clasped a large, warm hand on Eggsy’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He leaned in and spoke softly. “You are going to be incredible. You have nothing to prove, either to him, or to any of us.”
“Are you giving me away?”
Merlin looked a little surprised at that, and then he laughed. “You could put it that way, yes.”
“Could be worse.” Eggsy offered his elbow to Merlin, which elicited a laugh and a shake of the older man’s head and a mutter of refusal. “C’mon. You can’t call it giving me away, if you don’t take my arm. What kind of gentleman are you?”
With another laugh, Merlin hooked his arm with Eggsy’s. “It really ought to be you taking my arm,” he teased, before pushing open the large wooden door.
The space that was revealed to them was smaller than what Eggsy had imagined. There were a few agents in the room with them, and a few more present on the display of his headsets. He counted out the obvious Kingsman agents with their thick framed glasses. Eggsy recognized Percival, looking thinner and more hollow than he had when their paths first crossed after the railroad test. He also recognized Bors, older and more portly, with a serious expression. Roxy was looking surprisingly solemn as well, in a cleaned up suit. Eggsy tried to smile at her, and she glanced away.
There were at least five others present in the room with them, standing in file on either side of the worn, likely hundred year old runner. Spaces between them were filled with seven other figures, present for the ceremony from secure locations around the world, rendered in green on his heads up display. Eggsy could hear the soft murmur of their voices in his ear.
At the end of the room was a tall figure dressed in all black. Eggsy couldn’t recognize him from the back, just that he had broad shoulders and a slim waist. The old, yellow lighting in the room was uneven, so from certain angles the man’s hair looked black, then brown, then salt and pepper. The only real defining feature that Eggsy could discern was the slim, dark finished cane at his left side, with a brass colored handle, clutched by a signet ring-less hand.
Merlin gave his arm a tug and then Eggsy was walking with him, down across the carpet towards the man in black. The lack of music, the dim lightning, the absence of joy made the moment feel less like a wedding and more like a funeral procession.
A thousand years crawled by, and when Eggsy was just a few steps behind, the man turned. Eggsy’s breath caught in his throat. Dark brown hair with the barest gray at the temples, handsome with the slightest cleft of his chin, light brown eyes framed by dark glasses, and a devastatingly familiar face.
The name escaped Eggsy’s lips like a ghost of a whisper. “Harry.”