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[magicallymalted]

A Christmas Prince; The Royal Wedding

Chapter 7: Something Old, Something New

Summary: The fate of Alderly hangs in the balance as Dawn, Quincey, Evander, and the others race to uncover the conspiracy behind The New Alderly Initiative.

A/N: Here it is; The final chapter of the second installment! I'm proud to have finished this, though I have to admit that it didn't turn out quite as I would have wanted it. I had to leave a lot of stuff out and I didn't have time to really dig into the potential this AU has. Regardless, I'm very fond of this universe and I'm excited for next Christmas's story already.

Thank you to everyone who's been reading this year! I appreciate your reactions, comments, and tags more than I could ever express.

And as always, a massive thank you goes to my partner in crime Annie (@potionboy3), without whom this story would never have seen the light of day. Thank you❤️

Words: 3.8k

Characters:

Dawn and Evan Harvelle, Rosa Yaxley, Evander Alderly, Maxim Raeburn, and Jimmy Crouch by @potionboy3

Quincey, Olympia, and Isabella Alderly, Tess Brandon

Rocky Weasley by @magicallymalted

Pandora Lovelace and Nymeria Lee by @gcldensnitch

Jupiter Durand by @cursed-herbalist

Diana Somerset by @endlessly-cursed

Mentioned:

Nova Hartley

Nate Mackade by @unfortunate-arrow

John Arthur by @potionboy3

Lainey Bell by @gcldensnitch

Gaia Alden by @cursed-herbalist

Beatrice Somerset by @camillejeaneshphm

Beginning | Previous Chapter

Want to read the first fic in the series, A Christmas Prince? Click here!

Chapter 7: Something Old, Something New

Dawn and Quincey rode back to the palace with haste. When they got to the room where Dawn had left Tess and Evander, everyone turned to look at them and Dawn felt a chill go down his spine at the expressions on their faces.

“What is it?” Dawn asked.

“We cracked the database,” said Evander. “And I’m afraid you’re not going to like what we found.”

“Tell me,” said Quincey.

Olympia walked up to them. She looked like she might have been crying, or maybe it was just the lack of sleep. She took Quincey’s hand.

“You’re scaring me now,” he told her.

“It’s mother. She’s been siphoning the country’s money for… I don’t know what purpose.”

Quincey blinked. He looked from Olympia to Evander, who nodded. Then he turned his gaze back to his sister.

“That can’t be,” he said. “What reason would she have to steal from herself?”

“Come see for yourself,” said Evander. Quincey walked over and Evander showed him the laptop. Dawn followed him and saw it on the screen, clear as day. Isabella Alderly was the CEO of Glockenspiel Consortium.

“Quince…,” said Dawn. This was not a turn of events he had been anticipating, no matter how much he might have disliked Isabella. He’d been half convinced the real culprit was Miss Pince, but despite all their animosity, Pince did love the crown more than anything, or so it seemed.

 “I must speak with her,” Quincey said.

“We’re coming with you,” said Dawn.

“We should accompany you,” said Evander, almost at the same time. “And you should know, this information wasn’t obtained entirely… legally.”

“So, it won’t hold at court?” asked Quincey.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Then I’ll have to deal with this my way.”

~

When Dawn and the others located the queen, she was with most of the senior staff, Miss Yaxley, and Dawn’s dad.

“Dawn?” asked Evan. “Thank goodness you’re alright, I was worried.” Evan came to hug him but Dawn said: “Not now, dad, something’s happened.”

“What?” asked Evan.

“I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

“Good, you’re all here,” said Evander. “We might need an audience for this.”

“Is everything alright?” asked Isabella.

“No, no it isn’t,” said Quincey.

“If this is about the wedding,” started Isabella. “A little modernization won’t be a threat to the monarchy, as long as the memory of your dear father is respected.”

“We’ll get to that,” said Dawn. Isabella blinked at him in surprise, as if only now realizing he was even present. “There is a threat to the monarchy, but it’s not modernization.”

“What ever are you talking about?” asked Pince. Dawn didn’t take his eyes off Isabella.

“I’m sorry mother,” said Quincey. “But the jig, as they say, is up.”

“What?” asked Isabella, still feigning innocence.

“The New Alderly initiative has been failing,” started Quincey. “Because you've been siphoning off the money.”

Isabella looked aghast. “That's absurd.”

“People lost their jobs because of you,” said Dawn.

“And you lied to our faces,” added Olympia.

Everyone’s eyes now turned to the queen. Isabella didn’t look shaken, only annoyed. “How dare you imply such thing?” she asked. “My own children, no less.”

“We know, mother,” said Quincey. “All of us. We know.”

“I will not stand for this,” said Isabella. “This is slander.”

“As king, I hereby relieve you of your active role as a member of the royal family. You may keep your titles, a modest allowance, and your house in the county, and we’ll keep this under wraps. The monarchy’s fate is unsteady as it is. But that’s all you’ll get. Ever again,” said Quincey grimly.

“You can’t do this,” said Isabella. “You have no proof.”

“Then why do I hear the dulcet tones of a glockenspiel?” asked Evander. “As in Glockenspiel Consortium.”

Isabella glared at her nephew and Evander looked pleased with himself. Dawn, wanting to bring him down a peg, kicked his shin and said: “It’s not that clever.”

“Mr. Flitwick,” said Quincey. “Why don’t you escort the queen to her rooms, and make sure she stays there.”

“Yes, sir,” said Flitwick.

“Quentin, please, listen to me,” said Isabella and took a step closer to her son. “They’re trying to manipulate you against me. They’re deliberately driving a wedge between us, I–,”

“The only one manipulating me here has been you,” Quincey snapped. “And I may not be able to prove anything, but I know what you’ve done. I know it was you and you’ve been pretending to help me all this time, leading me down wrong paths to keep me off your tracks.”

Isabella just stared at Quincey, speechless, for the first time.

“You know this is actually treason, right?” asked Olympia.

The queen seemed to finally realize that there was nothing she could do. “All I’ve ever done is try to protect this family. This country.”

“By stealing from it?” asked Dawn.

“By making my son realize that bringing in dangerous variables is not good for the family,” she didn’t look at Dawn as she said it, but the implication was clear enough.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” said Quincey. “Take her away.”

Flitwick, along with two other members of the security team, escorted the queen away. Everyone was left in stunned silence and Dawn took Quincey’s hand discreetly.

When they had gone, Quincey took a deep breath, and said: “I’m so sorry. I should have seen this.”

“She did a damn good job keeping you in the dark,” said Evander. “And keeping Dawn and I out.”

Dawn looked at Evander. “Me?”

“You already had plenty of reason to dislike her so she wouldn’t have been able to fool you so easily,” Evander explained.

“And you went to business school,” finished Dawn. “I get it.”

“Still,” said Quincey. “We must try to get the money back. Maybe arrange some sort of Christmas bonuses to everyone who lost their jobs.”

“Can that be done?”

“I’ll put some people on it,” said Quincey.

“Put me on it,” said Evander.

Quincey looked at him for a moment and then said: “Not before you’ve had at least ten hours of sleep.”

Evander looked rather surprised. “Oh, alright, then.”

“And Miss Yaxley,” said Quincey. Rosa perked up, looking anxious at being addressed under the circumstances.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Do you think you’d still have time to make some changes to the wedding plans?” Quincey asked.

“What kind of changes?”

Quincey looked at Dawn, who shrugged. “Well, I’d prefer it if it was just a lot… less.”

“I think I might be able to manage that,” said Rosa. “I assume this also includes your outfit, Mr. Harvelle?”

“Oh yes, yes it does.”

Rosa looked almost relieved. Miss Pince’s face was unreadable, but she remained silent.

“Alright, I’ll see what can be done.”

“Thank you,” said Quincey. “Now everyone should get back to the preparations. We don’t have all that much time.”

As the staff dispersed, Dawn went to his dad. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“What matters is that you’re alright,” said Evan. “Are you alright?”

“I think I will be,” Dawn said.

~

“Loyal Alderlians, I'm happy to announce that I am able to tear up the script that I was given for tonight's speech, one which glossed over the hardships that I know a lot of you have been facing. I can instead announce, thanks to the Mr. Dawn Harvelle and my cousin, Count Evander, that severe corruption is responsible for our recent hardships. It has been discovered and eliminated. The funds have been recovered, and every one of you will be paid the wages you are owed, along with a Christmas bonus for every hard-working person in Alderly,” Quincey spoke into the mic.

The speech was held in the courtyard, in front of the tree Dawn and Quincey had chosen. It was shown on live television so everyone in Alderly could tune in. A lot hinged on the speech. They’d concluded that Isabella’s corruption could not be revealed to the world. Dawn didn’t exactly agree but he could see why it might be the final spark to ignite the powder keg that was Alderly. Isabella was to attend the Christmas festivities and the wedding as normal and after that she was to depart, either for her country estate or for Monaco, Quincey had said he didn’t much care which, as long as he didn’t have to lay eyes on her. Maybe after Christmas there could be opportunity to examine how this kind of corruption had been allowed to happen in the first place but for now, he prepared himself for what Quincey had to say next.

“On behalf of the entire royal family… Queen Isabella, Princess Olympia, Count Evander, Prince-Consort-to-be Dawn, and the newly minted Count Evan Harvelle, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas. Let's celebrate with the lighting of the royal Christmas tree!”

“Three, two, one!”

The tree was lit with white and gold, just as Pince had planned but it made Dawn very happy that the tree currently displayed on many screens across the country was the one he had chosen. The cameras shut down and Quincey walked to them from the spotlight.

“How did that go?” he asked.

“Not too bad,” said Evander.

Quincey gave him a look. “Evander,” he started. “I believe I owe you a great deal.”

“No, not at all,” said Evander but then added: “But, now that I've proven my mettle, and there being an open seat on your Advisory Council…”

Quincey laughed and said: “Don't push your luck.”

“Fair enough.”

“But I think I’m ready to bury the hatchet,” said Quincey and extended a hand to Evander. He shook it and nodded. Next to Dawn, Olympia eyed them, warily.

“You did us all a great service,” she said. “And I’m grateful. However, if you try any shit–,”

“Dawn already gave me this speech, dear cousin,” said Evander. “Consider me warned.”

~

The next morning the guest began to arrive, first among them Jimmy, Maxim, Jupiter, and Nymeria. Dawn, Rocky, and Pandora met them happily outside the palace doors. Dawn, glad to see all his friends, hugged them all in turn.

“Woah, there,” said Jimmy when it was his turn. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Mate, you would not believe the shit that’s been going on here these last few days,” said Rocky.

“I expect you three are going to tell us,” said Maxim.

“You had better,” added Nymeria.

“We better get inside,” said Dawn. “And get some glühwein.”

“Hell yes to that,” said Pandora.

~

Back inside, in what Dawn had begun to think of in his mind as the living room, but which really was one of multiple sitting rooms, Dawn, Rocky and Pandora explained in detail everything that had happened in Alderly, from the strikes and the missing funds to their investigations to finding out Isabella had been behind it all. To say they were surprised would be an exaggeration.

“Dawn, your life is like some kind of soap opera,” said Jupiter, sipping her glühwein.

“You’re telling me,” said Dawn. “Oh, and did I mention; I didn’t even get a proper bachelor party.”

“We have to remedy this, immediately,” Maxim declared.

“Boy’s night out?” asked Rocky.

“Boy’s night out,” agreed Maxim.

“What are we supposed to do?” asked Nymeria.

“Oh, I think I can help with that…,” said Pandora.

There was a knock on the door, and Quincey stepped in. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked.

“Oh, not at all,” said Jupiter. “Dawn was just planning to ditch us to go party with the lads.”

Quincey laughed. “Well, that’s just rude.”

“Hey, I didn’t get a proper stag night because the country was falling apart.”

“Hmm,” begun Quincey. “Neither did I.”

“You’re welcome to tag along with us,” said Pandora.

“Really?” asked Quincey.

“It would be an honour,” said Pandora with mock-deference. Quincey smiled.

“Alright, since you so cordially invited me. Can I bring a few guests?”

“For sure,” said Nymeria. “Wait, it’s not your mum, is it?”

“Oh no,” said Quincey. “Just Lainey and Olympia.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“Wait,” said Dawn. “There’s something I forgot.”

He dug out his phone from his pocket as everyone’s eyes turned to him. “An important ceremony, of sorts…”

“What?” asked Jimmy.

“I hereby propose King Quentin of Aldelry to be added to the bristol squad group chat,” Dawn started. “Those in favour?”

His friends repeated: hear, hear, and raised their hands. Quincey shook his head, amused.

Dawn added him to the chat. “Oh, I’ve just realized we can’t be the bristol squad anymore…”

“Why’s that?” asked Maxim.

“Well, Quincey and I live in Alderly now…”

“Dawn,” said Pandora. “I love you, but you’re an idiot. Most of us haven’t lived in Bristol in a while, or like, ever.”

Dawn blinked at her. “Well, yeah, but now it’s different.”

“How is it different?” asked Jupiter but Dawn was too busy coming up with an incredible idea.

“I’ve got it!” he announced. “From this day henceforth, we shall be known as alderlies assemble!”

He typed in the new name as his friends laughed.

“Mate,” said Rocky. “I didn’t know we were all marrying Quincey.”

“I think my cabinet may draw the line at polygamy…” Quincey pondered.

“Boo,” said Dawn. “It’s a great name.”

“It is,” said Pandora. “I like it.”

~

The next few days were a blur. Christmas Eve spent with his family and Quincey’s, all his friends present and actually getting to plan the wedding with Rosa and Quincey. The ceremony obviously still had to have the elegance of a royal wedding, but they toned it down substantially with Quincey’s full support.

“I don’t think a grand ceremony is what the country wants to see right now,” said Quincey while they were planning the seating arrangement.

“Not unless your goal is to get us both guillotined,” said Dawn.

“I think I’d prefer to keep my head, where it is.”

“I prefer it there as well,” said Dawn. They hadn’t really talked about the past week since the cabin and a lot of Dawn’s anger had subsided since then, but he still felt hurt, he couldn’t help it. “But you could do with a little modernization initiative yourself.”

“I know I acted foolishly,” said Quincey. “You’d think I’d have learned my lesson since last year, but I suddenly got so scared. I’m going against hundreds of years of tradition just by being openly myself and mother managed to convince me that I must balance it out by being otherwise as conventional as I can. By following every rule and doing everything by the book.”

“You could have talked to me about it.”

“I felt like a coward.”

“I don’t think you’re a coward,” said Dawn.

“I let you down.”

“Well,” said Dawn. “I guess it is daunting to be the first of anything. Especially being the first openly gay king of your country, marrying his boyfriend.”

“You could say that.”

“But I want us to be there for each other and it doesn’t work if you keep things from me,” Dawn said.

“Nor if you keep things from me,” Quincey countered.

“I don’t want to.”

“I don’t either.”

Dawn sighed. “Good. Communication is the key.”

“Speaking of,” Quincey said. “Tess told me about the necklace. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what it was when Pince told you to take it off. I’d love it if you wore it for the wedding.”

Dawn smiled. “Alright.”

Quincey gave him a small smile in return. “If we work together, we can do this.”

“Alright, best give it a shot, then.”

~

In the end, Rosa had put together beautiful decorations for the ceremony and reception. Wild Alderlian winter flowers along with fairy lights, candles, and red and green. To Dawn, it felt a little bit like walking through a fairy forest Christmas party. If fairies celebrated Christmas. His outfit had been changed from the traditional costume to a more toned-down suit that was definitely not anything to write home about, but it was sleek and stylish. Quincey was dressed in a similar fashion and the entire ceremony was kept as low key as royal protocol allowed. Not that it wasn’t beautiful, still. The grand throne room had been converted into a wedding venue, complete with an aisle decorated with flowers. After the actual ceremony, the guests gathered into the slightly smaller but no less impressive ball room for food, drinks, and dancing. All things considered, it was a small wedding, though the thought did make Dawn chuckle. A year ago, this would have been one of the biggest weddings he could imagine.

~

After cutting cake and the first dance, Dawn searched for his friends. He spotted Nymeria and Maxim on the dance floor, as well as Olympia who was dancing with Gaia Alden. Dawn grinned to himself like some sort of crazy person. He didn’t spot Jimmy or Jupiter but finally he saw Rocky by the drinks, talking to a familiar face.

“So, you’re also from Bristol?” asked Rosa.

“I live there, yeah,” Rocky said and leaned against the table in a cool and aloof manner.

“Hi guys,” said Dawn, interrupting. Both turned to look at him.

“Congratulations, your highness,” said Rosa with something that could have been a genuine smile.

“Thank you,” said Dawn. “Really. Thank you, for all this. I don’t know how you pulled it off but it’s all so beautiful.”

“It was definitely a challenge,” said Rosa and took a sip of her champagne.

“It’s impressive,” said Rocky and Rosa might have blushed or maybe she’d just had more glasses of champagne, that was anybody’s guess. Dawn took a glass himself. “He’s right. I can’t say I ever much thought about what my wedding would look like, but this is probably better than anything I would’ve come up with.”

“Thanks,” said Rosa. Dawn nodded to them as he spotted Quincey coming his way. He excused himself and walked up to him.

“Husband,” said Dawn.

Quincey laughed. “Husband,” he echoed.

“Is everything to your liking?” Dawn asked.

“Yes,” said Quincey. “It’s perfect.”

“Well, not perfect,” said Evander who had suddenly materialized from the crowd. “But it’s not all too bad.”

“Hello, Evander,” said Quincey.

“I thought you should know,” Evander continued. “Your mother’s trying to weasel her way into the good graces of some foreign dignitaries. I made Flitwick keep an eye on her.”

“Good call,” said Quincey.

“Quincey, Dawn!” came a voice from behind Dawn, and as Dawn turned, Diana Somerset, Quincey’s distant cousin slash Isabella’s dream daughter-in-law walked to them.

“Hey!” exclaimed Quincey and hugged her. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” she said and only then seemed to acknowledge the existence of Evander. “Hello,” she said, rather coldly.

“Diana,” said Evander. “It’s good to see you.”

Dawn eyed them both and Quincey seemed ready to start putting out fires.

Evander cleared his throat and said: “Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

“You did?”

He nodded. “I wanted to apologize. For last year. I should never have done what I did, and I shouldn’t have tried to rope you into it.”

Diana looked at him a little warily. She looked to Quincey, probably to see his reaction, and then back to Evander. “It was pretty slimy,” she said. “But I hear you helped the country a great deal in recent days.”

“Well, I might have contributed,” said Evander. “A little.”

“Truce?” suggested Diana and offered her hand. Evander shook it and said: “Truce.”

~

Dawn and Quincey talked to many guests throughout the evening. Dawn’s old friend from school, John Arthur, had brought his new boyfriend as a date, which surprised Dawn almost more than anything else that had happened that day. Quincey was glad to meet more of Dawn's friends, and Dawn got to meet some of Quincey's. Aside from Lainey, they also chatted a while with Nate Mackade, Quincey's old dormmate from boarding school. He was attending with his girlfriend Nova. Dawn danced with Pandora, Tess and his dad, while Quincey danced with Olympia and Diana, as well as Diana’s twin sister Beatrice. Eventually Dawn's feet hurt so much he had to go find a seat. Tess sat next to him.

“Hi, your highness,” she said with a little laugh.

“Oh, come on.”

“What?” she asked innocently.

“I think they ought to make you a countess, or something, for all the work you’ve done for this country,” said Dawn.

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“You made a lot of coffee,” said Dawn. “For Evander.”

“He isn’t all that bad,” Tess said, and she was about to continue her explanation as to why on Earth she would think that, when she was interrupted.

“Who isn’t that bad?” asked Evander.

“Oh,” said Tess. “Hi, you.”

Dawn studied Evander’s expression which betrayed nothing.

“What is it? Did the queen turn into a lizard monster and is now eating the guests?” asked Dawn.

Evander rolled his eyes at him and then looked back to Tess, pretending like Dawn wasn't even there.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked her.

To Dawn’s surprise, a bright smile appeared on Tess’s face.

“Yeah,” she said. “I could dance.”

Dawn watched in some sort of shock, as Evander offered his hand and Tess took it, and he was still looking at them as they made their way to the dance floor.

“What the fuck…” he muttered to himself.

~

Half an hour later Dawn found Quincey in the courtyard. From his smile, he deduced he’d been expecting Dawn to show up.

“Hi,” Quincey said as Dawn walked closer.

“Hey,” replied Dawn.

“Are you having fun?”

Dawn nodded. “Although, I should tell you that Evander asked Tess to dance.”

“He did?”

“Yes, and she seemed happy about it.”

“Well, I’ll be…”

“He better not be plotting or scheming,” Dawn grumbled.

Quincey laughed, merrily.

“This is not a laughing matter, Quentin.”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry…” said Quincey and raised both his hands in the air. “I’ll be sure to not grant my permission as a monarch for him to wed if it comes to that.”

Dawn stared at him. “It won’t come to that.”

He could not handle Evander as an uncle. That would be too much for anyone to handle.

“Did you see your friends?” asked Quincey, changing the subject.

“Yes, they all seem to be having fun.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Quincey.

“Yeah…”

Dawn looked at Quincey for a moment. Everything had happened so fast that he struggled to wrap his mind around the fact that they’d actually made it here, to this day. Overcome by some kind of sappy romance novel spirit, he grabbed Quincey’s face in both his hands and kissed him. Quincey smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Dawn.

When they pulled apart, he said: “Thank you for making this the best Christmas ever. I don't think we'll ever be able to top this one.”

Dawn laughed.

“Well, you never know,” he said. “Maybe next year the country won’t be in a crisis.”

“Well yes,” said Quincey. “Next year might be better.”

“I'm willing to try if you are,” said Dawn.

“Yes,” said Quincey and kissed him again.

He was fairly certain that whatever next year had in store, it couldn't possibly hold a candle to the last two. He certainly hoped it would be peaceful and uneventful.

tag list: @lifeofkaze, @gcldensnitch, @endlessly-cursed, @cursed-herbalist, @magicallymalted

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[magicallymalted]

by clicking on the source link you will find a page with 222 gifs, all made from scratch by myself, of pollyanna mcintosh in vikings valhalla. pollyanna is white and is currently 44 years old. i don’t care what you do with these, just don’t be gross and don’t claim them as your own. if using these, give this post a reblog. thank you !

[magicallymalted]

Prologue: The Press Conference

26th August 1914, Daily Prophet

MINISTRY FORBIDS MAGICAL AID IN THE MUGGLE WAR

In yesterday’s press conference, Minister Evermonde, Head of the British Ministry of Magic, introduced strict legislation against the involvement of wizardkind in the ongoing Muggle war. Any kind of magic use is strictly prohibited in matters of war and will result in severe punishment; the ground of justification is the International Statute of Secrecy.

Full article on page 3.

—

Since July 14th, the Wizarding World has been put into a state of unease. Following the assassination of Muggle Archduke Franz Ferdinand and the declaration of war by Austria-Hungary, many wizards fear of the war spreading and the Wizarding World getting caught in the crossfire. 

Addressing the precarious situation, the British Ministry of Magic gave an official statement on the 25th of August, 1914, in which Minister Evermonde made clear, that any sort of wizard involvement in Muggle warfare, threatens the International Statute of Secrecy and would not be tolerated unless authorised by Ministry Officials. Upon further questioning, whether the muggles do not deserve help and protection, he explained that ‘the Ministry simply doesn't have the resources to entertain and aid the muggle war as of now’.

‘The Ministry’s focus is to ensure our kind's safety. Therefore, it is of utmost importance that we divide our resources wisely. Not only is there a war raging but the Wizarding World is facing issues that, too, need tending. Protecting the Wizarding society is our top priority and we refuse to put it at risk. I can assure you, however, that the Ministry has the situation under control and acts on the matter as much as needed. […] I know this war is a very emotionally charged topic but I must ask that civilians may refrain from joining the fight and do not enlist on their own accord. It might undermine Ministry measures and therefore, any offence against the issued legislations will be punished.’

– Archer Evermonde, Minister of Magic, Press Conference regarding the Muggle war at the British Ministry of Magic, 25th August 1914

Despite Minister Evermonde ensuring that the situation is under control and that the Ministry is in constant exchange with parties of the International Confederation of Wizards, it needs to be clarified which measures exactly will be taken to aid the situation. So far it is only known that Head Auror, Willard Hartford, is planning to launch new operations to undermine and prevent attempts to harm the Wizarding World, primarily in response to the war and the latest Dark wizard activities – regarding the rumoured Azkaban break nothing was mentioned. 

Ministries Unified

‘In these dark times, it is most important that we lay down our conflict and move forward as a union.’

– Archer Evermonde, Minister of Magic, Press Conference regarding the Muggle war at the British Ministry of Magic, 25th August 1914

Regardless of the war raging between the muggles, Evermonde emphasised the importance of international cooperation. He confirmed that all Ministries of Magic are currently working together and flying at full speed to find solutions to keep the distress for the Wizarding world at a minimum. According to Evermonde, there is no bad blood between the magical parties, and the conflict has not stifled constructive exchange between the Ministries.

Whether the Muggle war will be confined to the few countries already involved or what scale it will take can not be said, but the feeling on this point in high official circles is optimistic. Despite this optimism, the Wizarding communities across Europe prepare for war.

Edited by Odessa Avery

tag list: @kathrynalicemc

If you want to be added to the tag list feel free to comment. We’re happy to add you to it!

[magicallymalted]

January 5th, 1997 || Happy Birthday my darling girl!

[magicallymalted]

A Christmas Prince; The Royal Wedding

Chapter 4: All the World’s a Stage

Summary: Dawn holds down the fort. Evander offers to help with Aldelry's economic crisis.

Words: 2.7k

Characters:

Dawn Harvelle and Evander Alderly @potionboy3

Quincey, Olympia and Isabella Alderly, Tess Brandon

Gaia Alden by @cursed-herbalist

Also featuring:

Lainey Bell by @gcldensnitch, Evan Harvelle by @potionboy3

Beginning | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Want to read the first fic in the series, A Christmas Prince? Click here!

Chapter 4: All the World's a Stage

The meeting Dawn was supposed to attend with Quincey was postponed in favour of all kinds of other meetings that Dawn wasn’t allowed to attend. It was three in the morning when Quincey and Lainey returned from whatever emergency meetings they’d been having. Dawn had been sitting with Olympia, Evan, and Tess, but Evan had given up at around two, proclaiming he had to go get some sleep before he drooled all over the priceless antique furniture. Dawn felt the same way, but he couldn’t go to sleep before Quincey was back.

“How did it go?” Olympia asked when Quincey and Lainey entered the room.

“Everything’s still up in the air,” said Quincey. “Mother told me to get some sleep because tomorrow isn’t going to be any easier.”

“It’s today,” said Olympia.

“Right… I’m sorry about the play.”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Olympia. “Dawn has had an idea.”

“Yeah?” asked Quincey and turned his tired gaze to Dawn.

“We’re having it here,” said Dawn. “Mr. Flitwick has agreed to help us, though Miss Pince was very much against it.”

“Well, some good news, at least,” Quincey huffed and sat down. Lainey was still looking through her phone.

“Lane, please, give it a rest,” said Quincey. “Take a break.”

“Your Majesty,” said Lainey and put her phone away. Everyone in the room looked at each other and the stress and exhaustion felt palpable.

“I’m starting to feel like Christmas might be cancelled this year,” said Quincey quietly.

That was too much for Dawn. “No,” he said sternly. “This is the Christmas capital of all the Christmas capitals and we’re not letting the people down by losing hope now.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Dawn.

“We will figure out why the initiative isn’t working, and we will have a Christmas,” he continued. “We don’t need money to make a good Christmas, I never did before.”

Tess smiled at him.

“You’re right,” said Olympia. “We can use whatever we have in the palace kitchens to make a meal for everyone after the show tomorrow.”

“That sounds like fun,” said Dawn.

“I can do an inventory in the morning,” said Lainey.

“Hey, why aren’t you on strike?” asked Olympia.

“They don’t have a union for Kings’ best friends,” said Lainey. “And besides, if I don’t help fix this mess then the country will be worse off.”

“You’re so right,” said Quincey.

“Touching,” came a voice from the door and Dawn turned to look at none other than Evander.

“What is it now?” Olympia asked.

“I was wondering if I could have a moment of the king’s time?”

“Moments are in short supply,” said Quincey.

“I understand, I just wanted to thank you again for taking me back into the fold.”

“That's putting it a bit generously, isn't it?” Olympia interjected.

“Perhaps, but I'd like to do something to repay you. All. I may have a solution to Alderly's financial crisis–”

“I should've known this was about getting your hands on the kingdom's money,” Quincey interrupted him. “You can forget about it.”

“Cousin, no. It's just as I say, I want to help!” Evander defended himself. “I do have a degree in economics from Oxford.”

“You do?” asked Dawn.

“He does,” said Quincey.

“All I'm asking is that you to hear me out, I have a sound plan. Give me a chance to redeem myself.”

Olympia shook her head.

“Fine, you can come to the meeting tomorrow, alongside Dawn,” Quincey said. “But I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“Of course, I would expect no less,” said Evander and bowed. He backed away from the room. “Good night,” he called out before leaving.

“Brother, have you gone mad?” asked Olympia.

“I know you hate him, O, but economics is far more useful in this situation than art history,” said Quincey. “We might actually need him.”

“We can’t trust a word he says.”

“I can trust that he loves this country,” said Quincey. “That’s the one thing about Evander I know to be true.”

~

The next morning Dawn was led to one of the palace’s many conference rooms. There were several ministers present, as well as the queen mother, Evander, and Quincey, along with a slew of experts and assistants. Most of the meeting went completely over Dawn’s head, which frustrated him to no end. No one had given him any material to prepare for this, the only folder he had waiting for him back in his rooms was about the upcoming wedding, which seemed to matter less and less by each passing minute. After an hour and a half of economical jargon Dawn had to physically restrain himself from yawning.

“Your Majesty,” the queen said. “I have three words for you. Stay the course.”

“Even in light of everything that's happened??

Isabella gave her son an encouraging smile and said: “We put into action what your father dreamed of doing for the last years of his reign.”

“But the situation has changed so vastly since then,” Quincey replied. “Are there really no adjustments you'd consider, mother?”

“Patience. This kind of long-term investment in roads, hospitals, schools... it's good business.”

Dawn wasn’t sure what it was about the way the queen said good business that made him finally open his mouth: “I beg your pardon. Queen Isabella, may I?”

“Yes, of course, my dear.”

Dawn took a deep breath. If he fumbled this, he wouldn’t get a second chance. “If all the infrastructure projects are happening in Alderly, through Alderlian companies, how can the country be losing so much money?”

The minister of internal affairs perked his ears. Maybe all these high and mighty politicians didn’t think too highly of Dawn, but he was damn well going to try his best to prove them wrong. “Did you think that perhaps we should consider taking some proactive steps to find out?”

Isabella smiled at Dawn, tightly. “Absolutely we should and will. A thorough review begins tomorrow.”

“Well then,” said Quincey. “Good.”

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” Evander cut in. “I love our country and was merely curious to know how The Queen Mother accounts for the inverse returns.”

“Count Evander, that is hardly appropriate–,” started the Prime Minister, but Quincey motioned for him to keep his peace.

“You’re welcome to go through all of these documents,” said the queen. “As I had expected you had when you were invited to this meeting.”

Dawn wondered if Evander had ever received the documents either, or if it was just him.

“The documents are one thing, Your Majesty, but I had hoped–,”

“Hopes what, dear nephew? To get inside knowledge of our country’s goings-on so you could exploit them for your own gain?”

“Queen Isabella, I…”

“Enough,” said the queen. “Quentin, maybe now you will finally see that as king, you'll find everyone as their own agenda. Keep a watchful eye on those who try to lead you astray.”

Evander fell silent and Quincey cleared his throat. “Thank you for your… advice, mother.”

Isabella nodded.

“I have no doubt that a thorough investigation will yield results and secure Alderly’s future,” Quincey said. “I do believe our fortunes are about to change.”

~

After the meeting Dawn and Quincey headed out to get the courtyard Christmas tree. They both needed some fresh air. It had begun to snow lightly and Dawn so happy to finally spend some time with Quincey outside the palace walls and out of reach of the watchful eyes of the court.

“Fresh snow at Christmas is an Alderlian sign of good fortune,” said Quincey as they made their way deeper into the woods.

“Well, we could take it as a good sign, then,” said Dawn, bundled up in his best outerwear so as not to freeze to death. He had learned his lesson from last year, prancing around in converse even though there was two meters of snow everywhere.

“Do you think it’s in time to save Christmas?” Quincey asked.

“At least the play, if nothing else.”

“Olympia has worked very hard on it, it’s been good for her,” said Quincey.

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Dawn. “She did seem pretty invested.”

Quincey nodded and then stopped abruptly, pointing out a tree. “What about this one?

Dawn examined the specimen. “It's a little bare on the side.”

Quincey moved on to the next tree. One good thing about owning acres upon acres of forest was that you could have your pick of the most perfect Christmas tree.

“This one's nice,” said Quincey.

“It's not really a cone, is it?”

“What?”

Dawn sighed. What did they teach these royals of the Christmas country? “Well, a Christmas tree should be a cone. That was more of a triangle.”

“Well, I always thought a cone was a sort of triangle,” said Quincey with a shrug.

“Did you fail geometry?”

“Hey!”

“Finding the perfect tree is like finding the perfect man,” said Dawn, attempting to sound like a wise philosopher. “It takes time, and first impressions can be deceiving.”

“Oh, I see,” Quiney laughed. “Just because I stole your taxi a year ago now means I need to freeze to death while we find a perfect tree?”

“Not my fault you had to wear your fancy coat. Should’ve dressed warmer.”

Obviously, Quincey would be a lost cause without him.

~

The pair inspected many a tree, and some half an hour passed. Quincey had had the sense to wear a hat and gloves, so Dawn wasn’t too worried about him freezing. Coming across another tree of suitable proportions, Quincey said: “No geometrical imperfections here.”

“This one?” said Dawn, doubtful. It was an alright tree, but the branches leaned a bit too much up.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Tall, majestic, really the perfect tree,” said Quincey in a valiant defence of the upward bending branch tree.

“Totally wrong.”

“Are you sure this isn't the one?”

“Come on,” said Dawn and took Quincey’s hand. He wanted this excursion to last as long as possible, since he wasn’t likely to get another moment alone with Quincey like this in a while. He led him still deeper into the woods, until finally he came across what he was actually looking for.

“This one,” he announced.

Quincey looked from Dawn to the tree and back again and said with a tone full of disbelief: “That's... that's a runt. I mean, it's missing branches. It looks more like a tetrahedron than a cone.”

“Tetrahedron, shut up…” mumbled Dawn and circled the tree. “This one’s unique.”

“Unique?”

“Yes, this is the one.”

Quincey obviously had his doubts, but luckily for Dawn, he was also up for most of Dawn’s crazy ideas so he tagged the tree dutifully so the royal lumberjacks or whatever they were called could find it when they came to collect.

Dawn kissed Quincey’s cheek. “You didn’t bring your own axe?”

“I doubt they’d let me handle one.”

“Oh no, they wouldn’t. You’ve got too delicate of a constitution…”

“I could have you locked up in the dungeon for that.”

“You’d miss me too much.”

~

“Wow,” said Olympia once the tree was brought to the courtyard. “That's a very... unique tree.”

“Exactly. It's perfect, right?” asked Dawn.

“It'll look great, once we get all the lights in,” Olympia said though Dawn could tell she was also judging his taste. He decided to drive the point home even harder.

“Yeah, the coloured ones,” he said. “And those big, old, inflatable reindeer up there.”

Olympia nearly grimaced. “Luckily the staff will decorate this one, so you keep your grubby little hands off it.”

“Alright, you Christmas elitist…”

Pince cleared her throat and said: “As things have gone back to normal with the crown this year, we will light the tree Christmas Eve, after the king's address.”

Pince turned to Dawn and addressed him specifically, saying: “The decor mandate is white and gold. No inflatables.”

Dawn laughed. “Yes, I know Miss Pince, don’t worry.”

Olympia and Quincey laughed with him, when Pince’s expression turned from extremely worried to extremely relieved.

~

The next day was the day of Olympia’s play. The whole palace was abuzz with excitement, as nothing of the sort had been seen within the royal residence in years. Dawn and Tess were helping with the finishing touched to some of the supporting actors’ costumes, when Dawn noticed Evander standing nearby. Suspecting that he was up to no good, Dawn walked up to him.

“Are you spying on me?”

“Excuse me?” asked Evander, sufficiently affronted by the idea.

“I don’t like being spied on.”

“I don’t know if you know this,” said Evander. “But not everything is about you.”

“Then what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be hatching some evil schemes somewhere?”

“I call it looking after the interests of Alderly,” Evander said coolly.

“Or for one Alderlian,” Dawn said with a scoff. “Named Evander.”

“Yes, I get it, it's not that clever.”

“Quincey may have been taken in by your little act but I'm not,” said Dawn and went back to work.

“What was that about?” asked Tess.

“Just clearing some things up.”

Tess looked thoughtful for a moment and then said: “I don’t know him, but I think he’s really trying to help. Last night he was still up, pouring over some account books long after everyone else had gone to bed.”

“He was?”

“Yeah,” said Tess. “In the kitchens. I went to get some chamomile tea so I could sleep.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s trying to help. It could be a plot.”

“I suppose it could…” mused Tess and added a final bow to the dress she was working on.

~

The play was certainly interesting. Dawn had to admit the artistic liberties taken were sometimes lost on him, but he had to appreciate the unique take on a classic folktale. The cast had opted to use masks to portray certain characters instead of elaborate costumes. The climax of the play, Princess Froon granting Santa Claus his powers and Grundel turning into a knight was complete with smoke effects. Gaia was swallowed by a cloud of smoke and her mask and cloak were replaced with shiny chainmail. She made quite a dashing knight and the kiss shared between her and the princess was straight out of a fairytale. Most of the references and more subtle choices went straight over Dawn’s head but he was pretty alright with that, seeing Olympia take the stage in a form she actually enjoyed, in a stark contrast to her royal duties.

~

After the play was done, Olympia invited all of her fancy friends down to the kitchens to bake gingerbread cookies for charity. It really was a little chaotic and only some of the cookies were actually respectable looking enough to be even considered for charitable purposes, but the castle was in need of cookies too, and Dawn didn’t mind if his cookie was made into the shape of a butt by some pompous noble.

He himself was making an attempt at decorating some heart and star shaped ones, when he heard Olympia’s voice behind him.

“Is that a snowman or a yeti?”

“It’s Grundel!” said Gaia, laughing. “Don’t you know your history?”

“I’ll have you know that Grundel doesn’t have a hat.”

“Mine does!” Gaia defended herself and both laughed.

“You were quite good tonight,” Gaia said.

“Thanks.”

“I’m glad it all worked out.”

“Imagine if we’d had to refund the tickets…”

“You could have kissed your allowance goodbye,” Gaia said.

“God-forbid, I have no life skills.”

“Well acting…”

“Now you’re just making fun of me.”

“Maybe a little,” said Gaia. “But it was fun, maybe we should make this an annual thing? Next year we could do The Christmas Nights.”

Dawn had no idea what that one entailed, but if it was anything like the one Alderlian folktale he did know, it was sure to be entertaining.

“I’d like that,” said Olympia.

“Hey, do you like coffee?” Gaia asked suddenly.

“Sure.”

“Would you like to go, sometime?”

“For a coffee?”

“Yes. With me, preferably.”

Olympia laughed. “Yes, I’d like to.”

Dawn suppressed a grin and busied himself getting more cookies to decorate.

Dawn’s Blog, December 20th

Post title: The Tale of Princess Froon

Dear all, Christmas spirit has overtaken the palace, and the Alderlian saga of Princess Froon and the Wicked Ogre melted hearts and sparked a wild frenzy of sweet treats and cocoa in the kitchen. It was a wonderful day, a great release from the pressure I feel as my life is about to change forever.

tag list: @lifeofkaze, @gcldensnitch, @endlessly-cursed, @cursed-herbalist, @magicallymalted

(ask if you want to be included or removed)

[magicallymalted]

élliot durand & viveka raeburn

i've grown a soft spot for these two even though they're definitely not winning any parenting awards... @cursed-herbalist

[magicallymalted]

stillness + roots for Gemma. change for Gwen, informal for Marco 💌

Gemma

stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest?

When Gemma is still, she is deadly still. To her, fidgeting appears as a sign of awkwardness and a point of exploitation. Whether sitting or standing, that is the last thing that she wants and thus tries to be consciously aware of holding herself in a strong and unwavering manner.

roots: Is your OC’s look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?

Gemma likes to elevate the sporty/preppy looks of the late 90s. Pleated minis and slip dresses, but of course with leather, cashmere, or silk accents. One might also say the cropped jacket trend of the 50s, though with adjustments to fit more with her style.

Gwen

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

Gwen has always been very consistent in what she likes. Growing up, she was constantly told by her mother to embrace her hair and as such she's come to be very happy with her long curls. She was actually quite lucky to get a sense for her style very early on. The biggest change in her wardrobe over the years may have been an incorporation of more complex patterns, but a lot has remained the same. No tattoos here, either!

Marco

informal: What’s your OC’s lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they’re winding down?

Sweaters, crisp white t-shirts, and wool hoodies all the way. Mostly black, white, and grey, though he'll opt for a midnight blue every now and then. Being informal doesn't have to mean looking sloppy in his eyes. His "informal" look is not all too different from how he normally dresses, quite frankly, just with fewer layers and often untucked. When lounging around, he does have a pair of charcoal grey slippers he likes to wear.

[magicallymalted]

oc asks: character design edition

FACE & FEATURES

glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC's appearance? What's their distinguishing feature?

face: Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them?

stature: What's your OC's body type? How tall are they? Do they wear clothing to accentuate their look or do they try to mask it?

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest?

canvas: Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all?

CUT & CLOTHES

night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?

day: What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

formal: What's your OC's formal look? Do they like dressing up? Do they have different looks for different occasions?

informal: What's your OC's lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they're winding down?

outerwear: What's your OC's outerwear situation? Jacket, sweater, cloak? What sort of weather do they deal with most and how do they protect themselves?

footwear: What does your OC wear on their feet?

road: What does your OC wear while traveling? Do they have high-quality equipment, or are they making do? What does their gear look like?

armor: What kind of armor does your OC wear? Is it well kept? Bonus: where does it come from? Is there a story behind it?

arms: Does your OC have any weapons? What weapons do they carry, and how do they wear them when they're not fighting?

roots: Is your OC's look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?

texture: Does your OC favor any specific kinds of cloth or textures? Is there anything they can't wear or don't like? What sort of fabrics do they prefer?

wardrobe: How big is your character's wardrobe? Do they wear things threadbare, or can they afford new clothes often? Are they any good at mending and repairing their own clothing?

ACCESSORIES & ACCENTS

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning?

hair: How does your OC wear their hair? Does it have some kind of meaning?

makeup: Does your OC wear makeup? How often? What kind? Why do they wear makeup, and do they like it?

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

alternate: What would your OC's alternate universe look be? If they're a fantasy character, what's their modern look? If they're sci-fi, what's their fantasy look? What AU would you want to see your OC in, and how would they dress themself? Bonus: Prompt an AU!

[magicallymalted]

founders' era; serpens slytherin

the eldest child and only son of salazar slytherin and his wife esilia, serpens was brought up to some day inherit his father's wealth and power. he was known to be kinder than his father, though no less lethal in battle. serpens enjoyed reading histories and writing down the story of his family. unfortunately, a lot of his writings were destroyed when the goldcrest family was expunged from the history of the wizarding world.

a companion to @potionboy3's post for serpens's sister

[magicallymalted]

verena slytherin | hogwarts founders era

verena was the daughter of salazar slytherin and his wife esilia. she was a bright, rebellious and opinionated witch who often disagreed with her parents and acted against their expectations. like her older brother serpens, she learned duelling skills and combat fighting early on in her childhood. she was extremely skilled at archery.

@gaygryffindorgal

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Bringing Good Tidings, Part One: A Royal Ball

AN: It's here! A thousand times late, but here nevertheless! Tis not the 29th till the sun comes out, lol. This is a collab that Guzma ( @hphmmatthewluther ) and I have created for all of you. Do not worry, this doesn't contain spoilers from neither of our series and can be perfectly read! Enjoy!

Summary: Ten years later after the biggest events on Henriette and Lachlann's lives, the heroes reunite for a royal ball hosted at London.

Word Count: 1.2k

OCs involved: Henriette of Wessex, Frederick of Kent ( @that-scouse-wizard ) Lachlann Doherty ( @hphmmatthewluther ) Mathilde Coventry ( @camillejeaneshphm )

Taglist: let me know if you wish to be added!!

24th of December  

Henriette’s estate was chaos.

Servants ran left and right, some chasing the children while the others made sure that Lord Frederick and Lady Henriette would be presentable for their majesties and the horses. Henriette was used to this, although her dear husband was yet to get used to some of the customs. Adjusting her travelling veil and hairstyle, she looked at her husband, who dealt with the rather long sleeves. She chuckled, amused by how uncomfortable he looked in festive gear. She got up from her vanity and adjusted them. Freddie leaned on her touch, kissing her forehead “Thank you, my love.”

“Nervous?” She asked.

“About the king? Not really. But I am anxious about the feast… it’s the first time we bring the children with us.”

“I know. I am anxious as well. But we’ve worked hard to train them for court. All will be well. Besides, many of Hogwarts’ professors and friends will be there! Our children won’t be the only ones under scrutiny.” She realised what she said and kissed his hand “Sorry, my love. Being under scrutiny is not something we ought to enjoy.”

“It’s alright. This is how you’ve lived for decades now. I’d be surprised if you weren’t accustomed to it.”

They were about to kiss when a ten-year-old Odalric barged into the room, Juliana in tow.

“Mother! Juliana is misbehaving again!” He complained.

“Denegifu and I were merely playing, mother!” She retaliated.

The two of them looked at each other before each of them talked to their children “Tell me, Juliana, were you? Misbehaving?” Henriette asked calmly.

“No! Denegifu and I were playing tug-of-war and she lost. I merely teased her!”

“Is it true, son?” Frederick asked.

“She wasn’t just teasing! She started laughing at her and made her cry!”

Juliana turned to her brother “It’s not my fault that she’s still a baby!”

Henriette made her daughter look at her “Hey! Never say such things about family, Juliana! Despite what you might think of her, she is your sister and will be for the rest of your life, and you ought to love and respect her, alright?”

“Fine…”

“Is that all, Odalric?”

“Yes, father. I will go dress now.”

As each nanny took the children to their room, both parents sighed. Frederick shook his head “I know that, sometimes, children can be mean, but I worry about Juliana.”

“Me, too. I fear that there is somebody who’s pitting her against her own sister.”

“Let us hope that it stays a teenage rivalry.”

Lachlann was adding the last touches to his riding gear when an owl arrived. Without even turning, he asked his wife “Tillie, love, do you mind getting that for me, please?”

His wife, Mathilde, picked the scroll from the ill-tempered owl and opened the scroll. After a few minutes, she turned to look at her husband “Our contact has no news of Bruna. Still locked at home with the children.”

Both of them fell silent. Ten years had passed since Brunhilda had been married off to her cousin and whisked away for her cruel husband’s pleasure, and despite following them into a wild goose chase, Bruna herself asked the couple to leave her be for the sake of her children and herself. It pained them both to leave her to Wilhelm’s clutches, but they could do nothing at the moment.

A servant broke the silence by announcing that their children were already dressed and finishing packing. Lam smiled. If something had kept him going, it was his beloved family. They were all each his pride and joy, and despite the fact that at court they’d be heavily watched by the king, he looked forward showing London to his children.

“You know,” Mathilde commented “this is the hottest event in town. Not even a savage like Wilhelm would miss it. Perhaps there is hope for us to see her again before the year ends.”

She was right. The last time they saw her, they had all been in a royal hunt, and Brunhilda had looked pale and tired. Nothing like the energetic and vivacious young woman that they both had loved. She had been left behind in the hut to take care of her daughters while Wilhelm showed off his son in the hunt. Lam could speak for him and his wife when he wondered how come someone like Brunhilda took so much from a monster like him.

The moment the servant announced that they were ready for their journey to London, Lam shook off his thoughts and took Tillie’s hand, putting a brave face to his family for the sake of the holidays.

As they approached the castle, which, for Henriette, was already much familiar, she smiled. Much had happened there over the years. She had finally laid eyes upon her husband, they had shared small moments, married there, and many of their six children had been conceived there. She now may look bigger and older, but she was much happier than she had been when she was merely nineteen.

“Shall we?”

“If we must…”

“Lord Frederick of Kent and Lady Henriette of Wessex!” The herald cried, and they both made their entrance.

They both bowed to the monarchs and each greeted them.

“Your Graces, may I present my children? You may remember my oldest, Odalric. These are Denegifu, Juliana, Akelda, Cuthfelda and Hilda.” Each of the children bowed as Henriette and tutors had taught them and the queen smiled.

“Be welcome, Lady Henriette. We hope that your travels were safe.”

“They were, Your Graces.”

“Lord Lachlann Doherty and his wife, the Lady Mathilde!”

Bowing respectfully, they all moved on to their seats. Henriette’s, of course, was next to the Queen. The children were taken to another room, as per tradition dictated. Setting onto the seat, they observed from afar how the former serf was now handling gracefully a conversation with His Grace, who seemed intrigued by him. He had certainly come far ever since the infamous feast at the Thane of Cawdor’s castle.

The couple came over to them and curtsied to them both “My lord. My lady. It is a pleasure to see you here.”

“Likewise, Lady Mathilde. You look well.”

Mathilde nodded “Same to you. I couldn’t tell that you’ve had six children. You must tell me your secrets.”

“I’d be delighted, my lady.”

“I hope to see you for tomorrow’s feast.”

“Christmastime and your lovely daughter’s birthday, no less. We wouldn’t miss it, would we, dear?”

Lachlann nodded.

“It shall be an interesting soiree, indeed.”

They were a bit right about that.

Henriette and Frederick sat on the edges of their daughter’s bed, who was starting to stir up. She sighed and opened her eyes “Good morning, Mother. Father.”

“Good morning, sweetie.” Frederick smiled.

“Happy birthday!” Henriette smiled.

Akelda beamed weakly “Is it today?”

“Why, yes!”

Frederick ordered the servants to dress her as Henriette woke up the rest of the children as she reminded “Remember, we are now at court, and we must be on our best behaviour! Keep the naughtiness to a minimum!” She chided.

“Yes, Mother!” They all echoed.

As everyone dressed, Akelda was presented with a beautiful cream dress and a brooch with her favourite flower, the magnolia. She beamed and hugged both her parents “Thank you. You’re both very kind.”

“Anything for the birthday girl.”

Lachlann had woken up with a certain queasiness. He felt it. Something was off. He just knew, after his training. Mathilde had said that maybe it was the mulled wine, but he knew better.

As the court danced away, his senses tingled, telling him to be alert.

This had just begun. And he wasn’t referring to the party.

[magicallymalted]

A Christmas Prince; The Royal Wedding CHAPTER 3

“Honestly, Tess, I didn’t think I would ever get married, much less married like… well all this,” Dawn said, motioning around vaguely to everything around him. “But shouldn’t it be about… royalty or not, about being with the person I love, with... with all the people that I love there with me?”

Go read the wonderful story @gaygryffindorgal is posting about Dawn and Quincey’s festive adventures ❤️ (gaia belongs to @cursed-herbalist)

[magicallymalted]

A Christmas Prince; The Royal Wedding

Chapter 3: The Princess and the Ogre

Summary: Royal protocol threatens to dictate everything about Dawn and Quincey's wedding. Olympia's charity play faces obstacles.

Words: 3k

Characters:

Dawn Harvelle and Evander Alderly @potionboy3

Quincey and Olympia Alderly, Tess Brandon

Gaia Alden by @cursed-herbalist

Also featuring:

Pandora Lovelace & Nymeria Lee by @gcldensnitch, Jimmy Crouch, Maxim Raeburn, Rosa Yaxley & Evan Harvelle by @potionboy3, Rocky Weasley by @magicallymalted

Beginning | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Want to read the first fic in the series, A Christmas Prince? Click here!

Chapter 3: The Princess and the Ogre

“Your Majesties, Your Highness,” said Evander. He had a distinct look of dishevelment about him that Dawn had not expected to see.

Quincey’s personal security guard had already stepped in, ready to escort Evander out of the premises.

“It’s alright, Mr. Zabala,” said Quincey. “He appears to be in no shape to do us any further harm.”

“Queen Isabella,” said Evander. “Merry Christmas.”

“What is it you want, Evander?” asked the queen.

“I know I deserve to be met with such hostility,” Evander continued. Dawn’s dad and Tess had made their way next to Dawn, as if to serve as his personal guard. Dawn thought it was kind of cute. Tess whispered: “Is this the bloke who…”

“Who tried to steal Quincey’s crown? Yes,” Dawn whispered back.

“Frankly, I’m amazed to see your face here, cousin,” said Quincey.

“After the… unfortunate incident last Christmas, I lost almost everything I had,” Evander explained.

“Just desserts!” Olympia chimed in.

“I don't expect you to forgive me,” said Evander. “But I wanted to say I'm sorry, and Merry Christmas…”

The entire family was looking at Evander in something of a shock. This was the last thing Dawn had expected and he was willing to bet it had not crossed the minds of anyone else in the room, either.

“And congratulations,” finished Evander, looking at Dawn and Quincey now with an expression that could almost be described as genuine. “To you both.”

He turned to leave, and Quincey stepped forward. “Wait.”

Evander stopped in his tracks, turning back to face the king. Quincey sighed and said: “I don't know how you'll ever regain our trust. But we're still family. And it's Christmas.”

Olympia looked like she was about to punch some sense into her brother. Dawn exchanged looks with his dad and aunt.

“He may stay,” Quincey told the head of security and Evander looked seemingly relieved.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Olympia might actually murder you.”

Evander looked at Olympia who scowled. It seemed forgiveness didn’t come to her as easily as her brother, though Dawn wasn’t sure where all this goodwill on Quincey’s part was coming from.

~

Queen Isabella exchanged a few words with his wayward nephew, who then hovered awkwardly near the tree but didn’t touch any of the decorations. A passing waiter gave him a mug of steaming hot glühwein. Dawn decided to go over and see what he was really up to.

“Count Evander,” he said as he approached.

“Mr. Harvelle,” he replied. “Or Your Highness, soon enough.”

“What brought you to us on this… fine December evening?” Dawn asked.

“I knew you would all be together, and I thought: what better time to make my apologies?”

“I guess,” said Dawn, squinting his eyes.

“I know you don’t like me or trust me, but I’m not here to cause any trouble,” said Evander. “I’m just trying to make things right between me and my family.”

“It’s my family too, now, so if you try any shit–,” started Dawn but Evander stopped him on his tracks: “I won’t. I don’t want to go against you and my dear cousins ever again. The first round was quite humiliating enough.”

Dawn was a little pleased to hear it but hoped it wasn’t too obvious. “Quincey’s right, Olympia might actually kill you.”

“Yes, I imagine obtaining her forgiveness might be a little too optimistic.”

~

As the evening went on and the tree began to look sufficiently decorated, Evander had gained enough ground to sit on one of the couches and talk about his past year. He and his mother Amelia had a falling out and that had resulted in her cutting off all the money. It must have been a blow, but Dawn found it hard to sympathize with a count when it came to these things.

“So, what did you do?” asked Tess.

“Well, I moved to a more… modest housing arrangement,” Evander explained. “Oh, and I sold my car, that one was… difficult.”

Dawn rolled his eyes, but Tess chuckled and said: “It must have been.”

Evan sat next to Dawn and said under his breath: “Should we be worried about that one?”

“I’m always worried about Evander,” Dawn replied.

“Maybe I should kick his ass?”

Dawn laughed quietly. “Oh my god, dad.”

“I would probably lose.”

“No, you’d totally win.”

“Win what?” asked Quincey, walking up to them.

“Fist fight against Evie,” Dawn explained.

Quincey seemed to think about it for a while and then said: “You would definitely win.”

Evan grinned and Dawn smiled but then his expression turned more serious, and he asked: “Why did you let him stay?”

Quincey shrugged. “I think everyone deserves a second chance.”

~

Everything went mostly without an incident although Olympia did throw a glass bauble at Evander when he dared to laugh at Tess's joke too merrily in her presence. Dawn thought it was funny, but the queen informed them all that the bauble had been a gift from the American ambassador and now he would wonder why it doesn’t feature in any of the royal photographs.

Back in his bridal suite™️, Dawn exchanged a few messages with his friends back home. Well, back in Bristol since this was home now. It was late, too late, with Dawn’s early morning looming threateningly in the horizon.

the bristol squad; panda: wait cunt evander is back?? panda: NO panda: COUNT panda: autofill1!!! maxim: oh my god rocky: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 dawn: where’s the lie panda: it was a typo nym: no it wasn’t jimmy: it was a freudian slip

Just when Dawn was putting his phone away, he heard a knock on his door. He crept out of bed, wondering whether it was Evander, come to assassinate him. Suddenly it made perfect sense why he had come back, acting all humble and apologetic. He certainly had some devious plan to kill Dawn and get the throne. Just in case, Dawn picked up a decorative candelabra on his way to the door. When he opened and was instead faced with Quincey, dressed in his pajamas and a fancy dressing gown, he hid the makeshift weapon behind his back and smiled.

“Quince!”

“What were you going to do with that?” the king asked, half puzzled half amused.

“Defend myself, of course, your palace security is lax, I know that from experience.”

“Dear lord…” said Quincey and grabbed Dawn’s face, kissing him. Dawn pulled him into the room and maneuvered the door shut. Quincey took the candelabra from him and deposited it on a nearby side table.

“Jesus, you could have killed someone with that,” he said.

“That was the idea, although I was expecting it to be Evander.”

“Why would Evander come to your rooms at this hour?” Quincey inquired. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“To kill me, of course.”

Quincey laughed. “Of course.”

“Are you allowed to be here?” asked Dawn.

“Well, no, technically not.”

“Ooh, naughty,” Dawn teased.

“But I wanted to see you,” said Quincey with a soft smile.

Dawn, not immune to Quincey’s smile, kissed him and pulled him to bed.

~

The next morning, Dawn was dressed to the nines in the custom made Alderlian wedding outfit insisted upon by the queen. He felt like a complete fraud.

“It’s magnificent,” said Pince.

Rosa was frowning but remained silent.

“I can’t wear this,” said Dawn. He couldn’t even name all the different items of clothing involved.

“You must,” said Rosa. “It’s a symbol of Alderlian continuity.”

“No, it isn’t,” argued Dawn. “I want to talk to Quincey.”

“The king is busy, at the moment,” said Pince. “But I’ll make sure to note down that you want a word with him.”

“He’s going to be my husband and I need to schedule a meeting with him?” Dawn asked. He tried his best to remain calm, but this was all getting ridiculous. He wondered what Quincey was going to wear for the ceremony.

“Help me get this thing off, I need a break,” said Dawn and Rosa rushed to help him remove the outfit. None of it felt right.

~

The kitchens were empty, since it was some time until lunch, but breakfast had long since been served. Tess set a big, steaming cup of tea in front of Dawn and sat opposite to him.

“You’re my hero,” Dawn said.

Tess gave him a smile. “This is all a bit…”

“Much,” finished Dawn and Tess nodded, sagely.

“Have you settled in?” Dawn asked.

“It’s definitely been interesting to spend so much time with Evan, of all people.”

“Are you getting along?”

“Sure, I always liked him,” said Tess.

“That’s a relief,” said Dawn. “I didn’t realize they wouldn’t let me drag you two everywhere with me.”

“We’ll be fine,” Tess reassured him. “I’m just a little worried about you, though.”

Dawn sipped his tea carefully, as to not burn his tongue. “I feel like it's not my wedding. All this pomp and circumstance. It's like, at this point, I'm almost dreading the big day.”

“Marrying into royalty, of course there’s always going be parts of your life that won’t be just your own, but I think there’s a reason why the king fell in love with you, and it wasn’t your complete adherence to rules and protocol,” said Tess.

“Honestly, Tess, I didn’t think I would ever get married, much less married like… well all this,” Dawn said, motioning around vaguely to everything around him. “But shouldn’t it be about… royalty or not, about being with the person I love, with... with all the people that I love there with me?”

“When did you get so wise?” asked Tess.

“I was always wise, you just refused to see it because you were bitter that I put glue in your hair,” said Dawn.

“That’s very true.”

Dawn took a deep breath. “Christmas without mum is always going to be hard. But getting married without her being there…”

“I know,” said Tess. “I always think about her when something big happens in my life. Like when I graduated or when I launched a new tea line.”

“I guess we're both feeling that, huh?”

“I miss her every day,” Tess said.

“Me too.”

“Which reminds me,” said Tess and dug something out of her pocket. “I was supposed to give this to you as part of your wedding gift, but I figured you might need something to watch your back before the big day.”

Tess took Dawn’s hand and put a necklace on his palm. It was clear quartz with a fine leather cord. Dawn remembered seeing it on Tess many times. Dawn’s mum had given it to Tess as a present when she started high school, to bring her luck, and Tess had worn it throughout the years, up until university and beyond.

“I can’t take this,” he said, immediately.

“Yes, you can,” said Tess, and closed Dawn’s fist around the necklace.

“It’s yours.”

“You need it more than me,” said Tess. “I don’t have any big, life altering events in my horizon.”

“Tess…”

“Your mum would want you to have it. I know she would.”

Dawn sighed.

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Then…” Dawn started. “Thank you.”

He pulled the necklace over his head and maybe it was in his head, but it did bring him comfort. It made him feel like everything was going to be alright.

“She’d be proud of you, you know,” said Tess.

“Would she?”

“Yes. So proud.”’

~

On the car ride to Olympia’s dress rehearsal, Dawn got a rundown of The Tale of Princess Froon.

“It’s a folktale,” Olympia explained to Dawn, Evan, and Tess, but mostly Evan. “The original is much more brutal than the version told to children. Kind of like Grimm’s fairytales. A fair maiden who granted Santa Claus his magical powers, sounds wholesome, no?”

“Very,” said Evan.

“Princess Froon was coveted for her ability to grant magical powers. One day she was captured by a big, hairy ogre named Grundel…”

“Like Shrek!” said Dawn.

“No, nothing like Shrek. Grundel traps Princess Froon inside a castle made of ice…”

“Like Frozen?” Dawn tried again.

“Not at all like Frozen, Dawn, shut up. Grundel was going to eat her for breakfast, when his pet turtle…”

“Turtle?” asked Dawn. He couldn’t resist.

“Yes. His turtle found a little baby in the woods. And when he brings the baby to the castle, she cares for it and nurses it back to health. Her kindness melts the ogre's heart, and he falls in love with her.”

“The end?” asked Dawn and Olympia threw a piece of confectionery at him.

“No,” she continued. “The ogre sets the princess free, so then she turns the baby into Santa Claus. And she kisses the ogre to say goodbye and thank you, and he turns into a dashing knight in shining armor. The end.”

“And it's all true?” asked Evan.

“Obviously.”

“Fair enough,” Dawn said.

“Honestly, it’s not any less mad than strange women lying in ponds distributing swords as a basis for a system of government…,” mused Evan.

“Who's playing the ogre slash knight in shining armor?” asked Dawn.

“Just the reason for my mother’s ire,” said Olympia. “Her name’s Gaia Alden, the daughter of baron Alden.”

“Oh,” said Dawn. Suddenly it made much more sense why Isabella was so against her daughter taking part in this play.

~

The thing about Olympia’s play was that it was completely put together by amateurs on as low a budget as possible. The entire idea was to collect money for the orphanages of Alderly so the children could have a nice Christmas, complete with a heap of presents. The participation of so many members of the nobility itself had garnered quite a high society crowd. It was all in good fun, for a good cause. Olympia had told Dawn that they’d pretty much done everything themselves from sets to costumes.

“Why must you trap me here, Grundle?” Olympia spoke her line. Dawn was no actor, but he found the princess’s portrayal to be believable enough.

“Your fair beauty hurts my eyes,” said Gaia Alden, donned in the mask of the fearsome ogre. “But that is not why I trap you here. I trap you here because I want your magic!”

“You cannot force me to use it. I must believe in my heart!”

“Then I shall eat you. And your magic shall seep into my flesh and stones!”

There was a brief pause in the action and Dawn, from his front row seat, could see everyone racking their brains for how to handle this.

“I think it's ‘bones’,” Olympia whispered.

“That's what I said, isn't it?” asked Gaia. As an audience member, Dawn would have bought stones hook, line, and sinker. Maybe Grundel was a stone troll.

“Never mind. Let's move on to scene 12.”

“Right, yes,” Gaia said, clearing her throat. She motioned to her prompter and had a brief discussion with him. Just as the director was about to call action, everything went dark. For a minute, Dawn suspected a blackout but then his phone buzzed. It was Quincey calling.

“Hey,” he replied.

“Dawn,” Quincey said. “The unions are calling for a general strike. Are you still at the theater?”

“Yeah, we’re here,” said Dawn, keeping an eye on Olympia, who was frantically discussing with Gaia and some others of her theatrical troupe.

“The theater workers are also going on strike, in solidarity,” said Quincey. “I’m afraid the performance is cancelled.”

“What? Does O know?”

“I have to go,” said Quincey. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Quincey hung up and Dawn was left staring at his phone, flabbergasted.

“O!” he called out, climbing up on the stage. “What’s going on?”

“I wish I knew,” said Olympia.

“It looks like the play is cancelled, Your Highness,” said Gaia, going through her phone, probably looking at news.

“Maybe they’ll get everything figured out before–,” Dawn started.

“The premiere’s tomorrow,” said Olympia. Dawn decided not to question why he hadn’t been made aware of this, same as many other things going on in Alderly.

“I’m sorry, Olympia,” said Gaia. “You made a brilliant Princess Froon.”

“Fuck,” said Olympia.

“C’mon, O,” said Dawn. “It’s going to be alright.”

“People are going to want their tickets refunded,” Olympia said. “But we used most of the money already. On the kids.”

Dawn put a hand on Olympia’s shoulder. “We’ll figure this out. Come on, we have to go before your security detail thinks Miss Alden and I kidnapped you.”

“That would be bad,” said Gaia.

“Alright,” Olympia sighed, and they headed out of the theater hall.

~

“Merry Christmas, your highnesses,” said Gaia once they were outside. “For what it’s worth, I'm sorry we won’t be able to do the play. It was fun.”

Olympia smiled. “You made a brilliant ogre, Gaia,” she said.

“Thanks…?”

“And an even better knight in shining armor,” the princess added, taking both of Gaia’s hands in hers and leaning in to kiss her cheek. Something about the gesture made Dawn avert his eyes. Gaia left in her own car and Dawn and Olympia entered theirs.

“Fucking hell,” Olympia said.

“Can the crown pay the refunds?” asked Dawn.

“Not easily.”

“Well… shit.”

“Mother did tell me not to do this,” Olympia said, leaning her head back against the leather seat.

Dawn thought about all the hard work Olympia had put into making this play happen and an idea began to formulate in his mind. “Most of your crew is just your friends and peers, right?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“What if we did the play at the palace?” Dawn suggested.

“What?”

“What if we just cleared room and put up a stage for the play so then you wouldn’t have to refund?”

Olympia seemed to think about it for a moment. Eventually, she said: “It could work.”

“Yeah?”

“I think it might. Oh my god, I’m texting the idea to the guys right now,” she said and took out her phone, starting to type. Dawn grinned. Maybe the Christmas play could still be saved, but then there was still the country.

tag list: @lifeofkaze, @gcldensnitch, @endlessly-cursed, @cursed-herbalist, @magicallymalted

(ask if you want to be included or removed)

[magicallymalted]

A Christmas Prince; The Royal Wedding

Chapter 2: Krampus

Summary: Dawn faces difficulties with his new wedding designer while tensions boil in Alderly. The family's Christmas get-together is interrupted by a surprising visitor...

Words: 2.5k

Characters:

Dawn Harvelle and Rosa Yaxley @potionboy3

Quincey, Olympia, and Isabella Alderly

Pandora Lovelace and Lainey Bell by @gcldensnitch

Rocky Weasley by @magicallymalted

Beginning | Next Chapter

Want to read the first fic in the series, A Christmas Prince? Click here!

Chapter 2: Krampus 

“We have many preparations to do and very little time,” Rosa Yaxley said, flipping a white board showing several sketches from flower bouquets to table settings, and photographs of what Dawn assumed, were traditional Alderlian wedding attire.  

“Uh…” Dawn started but was silenced by a stern look from Pince. 

“The Bavarian orchestra will start precisely at your entrance with the release of the Barbary doves.” Rosa explained, producing a pointer stick from somewhere and demonstrating all the items she mentioned. “South African wildflowers will adorn your path down the aisle.” 

“Oh…” Dawn uttered. When the queen had said that Dawn would have a say, he hadn’t realized she had meant that she and Miss Yaxley had already planned everything and that he would just have to sit here and nod dutifully. 

Rosa continued: “I mean, you won't, and I mean it, you won't be able to take a step without a Namaqualand daisy between the floor and your shoes.” 

Dawn was beginning to really see that she didn’t particularly want to be in this position. He wondered if the queen had made her, as a punishment for her transgressions last year. 

“Hmm…” he simply said. 

“There will be a roast pig from each of Alderly's seven provinces. Montrachet Grand Cru will be in every goblet,” Rosa went on. “But of greatest importance... Is your outfit.” 

“Is that what those are for?” Dawn asked, vaguely motioning towards the pictures of clothes. The designs looked like somewhere between a mix of Bavarian and Slovenian folk clothing with something distinctly… Christmassy about them. 

“Is it customary to wear traditional dress to weddings?” 

“Not for at least a hundred years but the queen felt that it was important to show how committed to our culture and traditions you are.” 

“The queen… look,” Dawn started, and went on despite Pince’s warning glances. “I am committed. I’ve never been this committed to a goddamn thing in my entire life, but I feel like this might not go over well with the… well you know, the public.” 

“Whyever not?” Pince chimed in. 

“Well, I am a foreigner and maybe they will want to see me actually participate in their culture before taking on its symbols?” Dawn posited it as a question, but it really wasn’t. “Especially when this is just a publicity stunt, and I didn’t even pick the outfit.” 

Rosa bit her lip but Pince went on: “Nonsense, of course you will wear the traditional costume.” 

“I was really hoping that I could wear something… simple, something that’s a little more me.” 

“What?” asked Pince. 

“I mean these outfits are beautiful,” Dawn continued. “But I don’t want to play a part for my own wedding. Maybe I could wear one of these a year from now to an event where they’re actually worn in still?” 

“I don’t think you understand the sort of situation we’re in,” Pince said. “Half the country is in an uproar because we haven’t seen this kind of financial hardships since the war, not to mention their monarch is pretty much going against every strong held value they’ve been instilled with since birth.” 

“I sympathize with the depression, not so much with the homophobia,” said Dawn and noticed Rosa just barely concealing a chuckle. Maybe Dawn stood a chance after all. 

~ 

“This protocol is driving me crazy. It's like Bridezilla in reverse,” Dawn complained later in a video call to Rocky and Pandora. 

“Forgive me if I don't ooze sympathy from the night security desk of Noodle Chalet's corporate office,” said Rocky. Ever since the downfall of Beat Now, Rocky had been a security guard at Noodle Chalet, and it wasn’t lost on Dawn how his problems might probably seem somewhat quaint. 

“Hey, at least you've got a job,” Pandora chimed in. “I've been living with my parents for the last three months.” 

“Well, that’s tragic,” said Rocky. 

“Yeah, ever since Now Beat shut down.” 

“Now Beat?” asked Dawn. “It was Beat Now.” 

Dawn was happy he was no longer working for Kerry Crouch, but he couldn’t help but miss having a normal job and normal problems. Especially with Irma Pince breathing down his neck at every turn. 

“Whatever,” said Pandora with a shrug. “It’s gone now.” 

“But Dawn, you’re having some royal pains?” asked Rocky. 

Dawn chuckled. It was a pain just to be one, it seemed. “Well yeah, but I mean…”  

“Have you talked to Quincey about any of this?” Pandora cut in. 

“I haven’t seen him today.” 

“They know how to keep a king busy,” Rocky said. 

Dawn knew things were going to be busy, but he truly felt alone in the castle. He wasn’t even allowed to spend time with Tess and his dad, or at least not as much as he would have preferred. He was a little bit worried that this was how the rest of his life was going to look. Just protocol and event after event with only small respites in-between to actually hang out with his husband-to-be. He’d next be seeing Quincey when they all headed to town for his speech, and he didn’t expect there to be a lot of time for chit-chat. 

“Just hurry up and get here already,” he said. 

“Counting down the seconds, mate,” Pandora said. 

~ 

Rosa had left Dawn with a folder full of designs for the wedding. Dawn flipped through it, examining the plans with growing dread. This whole ordeal didn’t feel at all like a wedding he would want for himself. Not that he had ever thought about getting married before this past year. He almost wished he and Quincey had just eloped. He’d rather have Elvis marry them in Vegas than whatever this was shaping up to be. Dawn slammed the folder shut and let it fall on the bed. He was going to have to complain to someone who would understand, or he’d end up committing arson. Or worse. 

~ 

When Dawn went looking for Olympia later, he found her in the middle of an argument with her mother, the queen. 

“You must understand that his whole thing is frivolous,” Isabella was saying. 

“Well mother, it’s important to me so I don’t particularly care.” 

“This is about the image we portray to the world,” Isabella tried. “A princess can’t be an actress.” 

“I was in many plays as a child.” 

“That was different.” 

“This is for a good cause.” 

“It doesn’t matter. You know what kind of situation we’re in with your past actions and your brother’s life choices.” 

“It’s not a life choice.” 

Isabella sighed. “You know what I meant.” 

“No, I don’t, and I’m also doing the play, I don’t care what you think.” 

“Don’t you speak to me with that tone, young lady.” 

Dawn, suddenly realizing he was quite rudely eavesdropping, stepped into the room, fully pretending as if he hadn’t been listening. “Oh, hello Your Majesty, Your Highness.” 

“Dawn, great timing, mother was just about to wring my neck,” said Olympia. 

“Olympia–,” the queen attempted. 

“I have to talk to you Dawn, if you don’t mind,” Olympia said and walked up to Dawn, grabbing his arm. “Preferably somewhere away from her…” 

“Alright…” said Dawn, casting an apologetic glance at Queen Isabella. They had their differences, but Dawn was determined to get along with his mother-in-law.  

~ 

Olympia led him to a smaller room, let go of his arm and dramatically fell into one of the priceless antique armchairs. 

“What was that about?” Dawn asked. 

“She thinks it’s common to do the play.” 

“Oh, of course she does.” 

“But I’m still going to do it,” Olympia continued. “I can’t wait for you to see it, it’s kind of like an arthouse reimagining.” 

“Oh, wow, alright,” said Dawn.  

“You could come see the dress rehearsal?” 

“If I can get away from my own dress rehearsals…”  

“Right, how’s that going, anyway?” Olympia asked and sat up straight. She had messed up her hair, slumping onto the chair. 

“Well… It’s going.” 

“You let me know if you need any help.” 

Dawn knew he needed all the help he could get, but after hearing the conversation between Olympia and the queen, he wasn’t sure it was the best idea to rope Olympia into it. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you, O.” 

~ 

That afternoon, the royal retinue made its way to town. Quincey’s speech took place in front of Alderly’s House of Parliament and the square in front of it was packed. Aside from the adoring crowd, though, there was a smaller but no less attention-grabbing group of protesters behind them. Dawn, ever the journalist, kept an eye on them. They were holding signs proclaiming the bad financial situation in the country and demanding to be paid or get their jobs back. Miss Pince, standing next to Dawn, was glaring at the crowd with hostility, when Quincey took to the podium. While many cheered, waving Alderlian flags, the protesters booed. Dawn shifted his weight from one foot to another uncomfortably. 

“Behind me stands an enduring symbol of Alderly's historical strength. Before me, and all of us, lies our current revitalization project, a symbol of Alderly's shining future,” Quincey started. From Pince’s sudden shift in posture, Dawn deduced that the speech was written by her.  

“For crops to flourish, rain must fall. Likewise, today's temporary hardships will soon spur on a bountiful future for all.” 

Amongst the cheers, Dawn heard someone shout out: “What about our jobs?” 

“The country's going broke!” 

“Shame on the king!” 

Security had to step in to rein in the protesters. Quincey couldn’t have missed the incident, but he continued like he had, as Dawn was sure he had been instructed to do. 

“A new Alderlian chapter is about to begin. And I'm honoured and excited to share that journey with each and every one of you. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year.” 

~ 

After Quincey got off the stage, Lainey offered him a bottle of water. 

“Thank you.” 

“That went… alright,” she said. At least she was honest.

“I feel like a total fraud reading out that propaganda,” Quincey said with a sigh. 

“Your ideas make perfect sense,” said Lainey. “I just don't understand why they're not working.” 

“Neither do I.” 

Dawn, pained by Quincey’s tired and slightly pathetic expression and sick of not knowing the details of this initiative, piped in: “When numbers don't add up, there's usually a reason.” 

Quiney and Lainey turned to him, and Dawn continued: “I’m going to be prince consort, I want to contribute, that’s why I’m coming to the meeting tomorrow.”  

“The queen said you would be exceedingly busy with wedding preparations so you wouldn’t be able to make it,” said Lainey. 

Dawn and Quincey exchanged looks and said almost in unison: “What?” 

“We should be doing everything we can to help the kingdom, right?” Dawn asked. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Maybe there should be a revitalization effort to bring the royal family into the 21st century, too…” 

That’s when Pince came back, saying: “An excellent speech, Your Majesty. Now I need you to come meet the press with your most confident smiles…” 

~ 

After returning to the palace, Dawn, Quincey, and Olympia had tea with the queen. It was an exceedingly uncomfortable hour to top off an exceedingly uncomfortable event. 

“The press office assures me your speech today will do a world of good,” said Isabella from across the table. 

“Less than a year into my reign,” Quincey started. “I feel like I'm running the kingdom into the ground.” 

“Oh, you put much too much pressure on yourself.” 

“It's my initiative, mother.” 

“Quentin,” said the queen. “As you know, your father first proposed the need for such a program, but I oversaw the implementation, with the country’s full backing.” 

“Yes, but…” 

“Economic fluctuation is a fact of life,” Isabella stated and set her teacup back on its settee. 

“Yes, but I can't help but feel father would be disappointed.” 

“Oh, nonsense! You mustn't let this put a strain on the season. Or the wedding,” said Isabella and turned her attention to Dawn. “I hear the stress has been getting to you.” 

Olympia took a deep breath and said: “Can we not have a single conversation without it being observed and reported?” 

“Darling,” said the queen, laying a hand on her daughter's arm. Olympia withdrew, annoyed. “I just want all of you to be happy.” 

“Well, it would help if you stopped meddling into our business,” Olympia suggested, clearly running out of patience. “We’re all adults here, after all.” 

Isabella sighed. “I’ve decided to resume my active role in the governing of this country. In particular to help with the financial difficulties.” 

“What?” asked Olympia. Quincey didn’t say anything and had an unreadable expression on his face. Dawn still felt too out of the loop with the country’s goings-on to say anything. 

“But you seemed happy to retire?” argued Olympia. 

“Only because I found it too difficult to go on without your father,” Isabella explained. 

“Mother…” Quincey finally spoke up. “Thank you.” 

~ 

That evening, everyone gathered together to decorate Queen Isabella’s Christmas tree. Dawn and Quincey’s families all sitting together in the same room gave Dawn some kind of whiplash. He never imagined this would be his life. While Tess and Olympia chose matching baubles, Dawn sat next to Quincey on the couch closest to the fireplace and took his hand. Ever since the speech, he’d been in low spirits and Dawn couldn’t exactly blame him. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Hi,” replied Quincey. “I feel like I should apologize.” 

“For what?” asked Dawn. 

“For making you feel left out.” 

“Am I feeling left out?” asked Dawn, incredulously. 

“Are you?” 

“Well, a little.” 

“The pressures I'm facing as king are no excuse. Can you forgive me?” 

“I really would like to help.” 

Quincey smiled and squeezed Dawn’s hand. “Mother’s help will come in handy; she has a few decades of experience on this front.” 

“Then I’m glad she’s decided to postpone her retirement.” 

Dawn wasn’t exactly sure if he was glad but if the queen’s involvement would help Quincey’s workload, then it wouldn’t be all bad. He wished he could be more of use and that he would have already started his studies in political science. He had applied immediately after realizing he was going to actually have to do some governing, but he’d been advised to postpone his enrollment by a year. He’d done a semester of it already in university during his second year, so he wasn’t a complete beginner but now he was determined to get a Master’s. He had had fun writing his blog this past year, but he wanted to do something that could do some actual good in the world. 

 Suddenly a palace aide entered the room, looking quite disheveled.  

“Your Majesties, you have a guest,” he said. 

“Whoever could it be?” wondered the queen out loud. Dawn thought it must be Krampus because who else would it be showing up to the palace and causing a ruckus at this hour.

“Oh? Send them in,” instructed Quincey and got up.

After a few moments, a man entered the room. A very familiar man whom Dawn had been looking forward to never seeing again.  

“Evander,” said Olympia venomously. “What are you doing here?”  

Krampus indeed. 

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[magicallymalted]

HP Next-Gen; Winifred Weasley

Avalon and George's daughter | Roger Jr's half-sister | b. 2006 | Witty | Intuitive | Artistically-Inclined | Acrylics and mud for days | Canadian Tuxedo-wearer | Phony Witchcraft Blogger (she may have gotten in trouble with the MoM a couple of times)

[magicallymalted]

A Christmas Prince; The Royal Wedding

Chapter 1: Back to Alderly

Summary: It's been a year since Dawn helped Quincey keep his throne. Now the pair's wedding is fast approaching, but unrest is stirring both in Alderly and in the personal lives of our heroes...

A/N: The second installment in the movie trilogy makes even less sense plot-wise than the first but Annie and I wanted to try our hand in this anyway. I expect this one will be a little shorter than the first fic was, because I'm cutting the stupidest parts from the movie script entirely, lol.

Words: 3k

Characters:

Dawn and Evan Harvelle @potionboy3

Quincey, Olympia, and Isabella Alderly

Tess Brandon

Lainey Bell by @gcldensnitch

Beginning | Next Chapter

Want to read the first fic in the series, A Christmas Prince? Click here!

Chapter 1: Back to Alderly 

Dawn’s Blog, December 15th 

Post title: Big Event! 

Dear all,   It's been three hundred forty-nine days, eleven hours, twenty-three minutes, and seven seconds since I said “yes” to the love of my life, Quentin Christian Alexander, King of Alderly. But who's counting? Other than me and millions of people around the world. Needless to say, it's been a whirlwind year. There's been a lot of back and forth between Bristol and Alderly. The long-distance engagement hasn't always been easy, but it's always been interesting. Somehow through all this insanity, I'm still me. Even though I'm about to become royalty of a small country.  Thank you for all your love and support this past year. Sharing my writing with all of you means more than you'll ever know. I promise to keep you posted on all my adventures to come, especially our wedding on Christmas day in Alderly. 

“What’s with the sunglasses?” asked Evan Harvelle when he, Dawn, and Dawn’s aunt Teresa exited the airport.  

“We’re in disguise, dad,” Dawn explained. 

“You’d think that they would send someone to escort the future prince consort,” Evan mused quietly. The airport was bustling, as usual. Alderly’s tourism had seen unprecedented growth since Dawn and Quincey’s engagement announcement. Of course, there were also those that firmly opposed the marriage, but Dawn felt like nothing could dampen his spirits. 

“I think they did,” said Tess, pointing towards a line of cars heading towards them. 

“Oh, they’ve sent the royal motorcade,” said Dawn, surprised. 

“Did you think they were going to make you take a taxi?” joked Tess. 

“I mean we took one to the airport back in England so...” 

The motorcade naturally drew people’s attention, and it wasn’t long until someone shouted: “Look, it’s Dawn Harvelle!” Several faces turned to look at them and Dawn and his family surely would have been swarmed, had the royal chauffeurs not managed to get to them and escort them to the car. As Dawn was about to get in, a reporter approached him through the crowd. 

“Mr. Harvelle, any comment on the King’s new initiative? Will it affect the wedding?” she asked, thrusting her recording device towards Dawn. He had been prepared for this. 

“I’m very happy to be back in Alderly,” he said. “And excited for the wedding, and Christmas of course.” 

The reported didn’t look pleased with Dawn’s reply but before she could ask anything more, Dawn was ushered into the car. 

“That was intense,” said Tess. She was already sat in the limo looking a bit hackled. Tess was Dawn’s mother’s sister and only five years older than him. Dawn had asked her to join them, since the two were quite close, especially since the passing of his mum. 

“Are you okay?” asked Evan. 

“Yeah…” 

“What was that initiative that reporter was talking about?” his dad continued. 

“I…” Dawn paused. “Actually, I don't know the details. I’ve been so busy I’ve barely managed to catch up with Quincey in weeks.” 

“I can’t believe you’re going to be living in here,” said Tess, peering out the window. 

“That makes two of us,” said Dawn. 

“Three,” corrected Evan. “When you shipped off all your stuff here, it was one thing, but now…” 

He looked a bit stricken and Dawn had to admit that his own chest felt suddenly tighter, too.

“Dad, I’m going to come visit Bristol all the time,” said Dawn. “And you can come here anytime you want. Remember, they’re making you a count or something.”  

Every time Dawn thought about his father as a count, he felt the urge to giggle. Evan Harvelle was the most normal man in the world. Not to mention it would be infinitely amusing to have both Count Evan and Count Evander. 

~ 

The motorcade weaved its way through the city. There was snow everywhere, because of course there was, and when the palace first showed up behind the snow-covered treetops, Tess actually audibly gasped. 

“Not bad, huh?” asked Dawn. 

“You’re so posh now,” she teased. 

They all filed out and headed inside. Dawn was expecting to see a certain face among the welcome committee, but Quincey was conspicuously absent. Instead, he was greeted by Queen Isabella and Olympia, the latter of whom immediately wrapped him into a big hug. 

“Dawn!” she exclaimed. “I’m so happy to see you again!” 

Dawn hugged her back. “Damn right,” he said. “I missed you.” 

Olympia let go of him and smiled. 

“This is my dad, Evan,” said Dawn. 

“Your majesty, your highness,” said Evan, only a little clumsily.  

“And this is Tess, my aunt.” 

Tess echoes his dad’s formalities. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” said Olympia and Queen Isabella nodded. She didn’t seem openly hostile, but Dawn could tell she wasn’t happy about how everything had turned out. 

“Mr. Harvelle, welcome back to Alderly,” said the queen. “And I’m most pleased to meet you both.” 

“And you,” Tess said with a smile. Isabella regarded her for a moment. Tess was dressed in her usual manner in a flowy, colourful dress and knee-high boots. It was quite the contrast to Isabella’s prim and proper pantsuit and immaculate bun. If Tess noticed the queen rating her outfit quite low on the scale of 0 to 10, she gave no indication. 

Behind the royal family members was Dawn’s old friend, Miss Pince. 

“Pince!” he said when the introductions were out of the way. “How are you? Has it been awfully boring here without me?” 

“It has been quiet, Mr. Harvelle,” Pince replied, and it was quite evident she had vastly preferred it. “And I have been promoted to the head of Palace Office of Press and Protocol.” 

“Oh, sweet,” said Dawn. He wasn’t exactly sure sweet was the right word, though. 

“Come on, I’ll show you to your rooms,” Olympia said cheerily. 

“That is hardly appropriate,” said Pince. 

“Oh, Irma please, let it go,” said Olympia and headed towards the stairs. Pince sighed. Dawn, Evan and Tess followed the princess. 

“See you all at the reception,” the queen called after them. 

~ 

Dawn almost choked of laughter when Olympia announced loudly that he was to have the bridal suite until the wedding. He then also understood why Olympia had wanted to take him personally. They’d left his dad and Tess to settle into their own rooms. 

“Pince did this on purpose,” said Dawn, more amused than anything. 

“Oh Dawnie, it’s tradition, it’s protocol,” Olympia laughed. 

“It’s very… frilly,” he noted. “And pink.” 

“Nothing wrong with a little pink,” said Olympia, a known appreciator of pink. 

“I love pink,” said Dawn, who didn’t really have a strong opinion for or against. 

“I had hoped I could simply share a room with my fiancé.” 

“That’s entirely impossible, and worst of all, common.” 

“Where is he, by the way?” Dawn asked. 

“He’s been busy with all kinds of kingly duties,” Olympia explained. “I’ve barely seen him, and I live with him.” 

Dawn couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy with this new information. 

“But I’ll let you settle in now, you must be exhausted,” Olympia said. “We must catch up as soon as possible though, I have so much to tell you.” 

“Of course, thank you O.” 

~ 

Once left alone, Dawn looked around the room. It looked straight out of one of those early 2000s animated Barbie movies. On one of the nightstands Dawn noticed a note, written on familiar hand. He took the paper and read:  

“To my love, with all my heart. 

From this day forth, 

we shall not be apart. 

Poetry can be a challenging art. 

If not yet mastered, here's a start.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at the corny little poem, when a voice from the door behind him said: “It’s a limerick. Of sorts,” said Quincey. 

Bad limericks be damned, Dawn all but ran to hug him.  

“Sorry I wasn’t there to greet you,” said Quincey, hugging him back. “I had to finish my poem.” 

“Next time, maybe you could forgo poetry and come greet me instead?” Dawn suggested. 

“Hey,” Quincey protested. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” 

“Yes. It most definitely was.” 

Quincey laughed and Dawn kissed his stupid face. 

“I can’t believe this is finally happening,” Quincey said. 

“You’re telling me,” Dawn laughed. “A year ago, I was working a shitty job in Bristol, worrying about writing an article about a ridiculous playboy prince.” 

“Ridiculous, maybe,” Quincey mused. “Definitely not a playboy.” 

“I guess that’s true–,”  

Dawn’s sentence was cut short, when Quincey’s new equerry showed up at the door. 

“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” she said. 

“What is it, Lainey?” asked Quincey.  

“An urgent call from the Minister for Economic Affairs and the Prime Minister,” the equerry said, eyeing the both of them. She seemed to be around the same age as Quincey, with her blonde hair up on a ponytail and a tablet in her hand. 

Quincey sighed. “Can’t it wait?” 

“I’m afraid they insist.” 

Quincey turned back to Dawn. “I must take this. We'll have more time this evening at the reception.” 

He kissed Dawn’s cheek quickly and followed Lainey out the door. Dawn sat on his bed and dug out his phone. He typed in a message to the group chat he had with his friends: just saw my husband-to-be for the first time in months for all of 5 minutes. 

Not long after came a reply from Jimmy: abolish the monarchy. 

~ 

Two hours later Dawn had unpacked his meager little bag (most of his other belongings had been handled earlier by palace employees) and gotten ready for the reception. It was to be a party of importance, with government officials and foreign ambassadors. The thought might have spooked Dawn once, but now he was slightly better prepared. He met up with Quincey before the double doors that lead to the banquet hall. 

“Hi,” said Quincey in a low voice. 

“Hi,” Dawn replied. Quincey offered his arm and Dawn took it. 

“Ready for this?” asked Quincey. 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

The doors were opened, and the pair entered, with a herald calling out: “My lords, ladies, and gentlemen; King Quentin and the guest of honour; the future Prince Dawn!” 

As they entered, at least fifty pairs of eyes turned to look, among them the prime minister but most of the faces completely unknown to Dawn. He hadn’t had any official duties as a royal spouse yet, as their circumstances were rather unusual, and Quincey’s advisors felt it was best to move slowly and respect traditions. Dawn didn’t want to cause any more trouble than he already had but he wasn’t sure how much tradition and protocol he was going to be able to handle without complaint. 

“Oh wow, this is–,” he started but suddenly a man in an expensive looking suit and a serious look on his face appeared and whispered something to Quincey. 

“Dawn, find Olympia, I’ll get away as soon as I can,” he said as the man whisked him away and Dawn was left standing alone in the middle of the room, feeling more awkward by the second. He was approached by several people with greetings and congratulations, he recognized the Minister of Internal Affairs, as well as Magister Malinda, but some he only pretended to recognize, as he had been advised to do. 

“Mr. Harvelle, here,” said the queen’s voice to his left and Isabella introduced him to some more dignitaries, such as ambassadors from Penglia and a president of the Council of Women in Alderly.  

“I should go save Quiney…” Dawn mused as he saw him still talking, or rather, arguing with the same man. 

“Best, I think, to leave him to it,” said the queen. 

“What’s going on?” asked Dawn. 

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Isabella simply said. “You should focus on the wedding. Most of it is well in hand but Quentin insisted we leave some breathing room for you, despite the short notice.” 

And the Queen's objection, Dawn thought but only said: “Well, that’s nice."

He had pretty much resigned himself to having no say at all with the wedding. 

“To that end, I have hired a wedding planner to help you.” 

“What?” 

“A wedding designer, Your Majesty, but yes,” a woman said, walking up to them. 

Dawn recognized her. Rosa Yaxley, the girl who had been briefly engaged to Count Evander, Quincey’s throne-stealing cousin. 

“You’re a wedding designer?” Dawn asked. 

“Yes, and now I’m here to help,” she said, though Dawn couldn’t be sure if she was all too happy about this prospect. “I hope there’s no bad blood between us?” 

Dawn looked from Rosa to the Queen and back again and then said with a note of humour in his voice: “Well, if her Majesty found it in her heart to forgive you, then I suppose so can I.” 

Rosa smiled. “Glad to hear it Mr. Harvelle. We’ll get to work tomorrow.” 

~ 

Dawn finally found Olympia, chatting with his dad of all people. 

“Well Dawn and I call them meat jelly, they’re pretty gross,” Olympia was saying to Evan, who examined a suspicious looking block of meat that a passing waiter had offered to him. 

“Don’t eat that, dad,” said Dawn.  

“Thanks for the tip, kiddo,” Evan said and deposited the meat jelly on a nearby table. 

“Oh, Dawn, I was just telling your father about how I’m part of organizing a charity event!” 

“You are?” 

“It’s a play,” Olympia continued. “The Tale of Princess Froon, an Alderlian folk tale. I was asked to play the titular role to draw in the high society crowd.” 

“Oh my god,” said Dawn. 

“Hey, it’s a beautiful tale,” said Olympia with a grin. 

“Oh, I’m sure.” 

“Anyway, all the proceeds will go to helping those affected by the current depression.” 

Dawn had read the newspapers, of course, and knew of the rather terrible financial situation in Alderly. “That sounds pretty awesome,” he told Olympia. 

“I’d sure like to see some Alderlian culture in play,” said Evan.  

“You’re most heartily invited, Mr. Harvelle,” said Olympia. 

“Isn’t this the one where Princess Froon gives Santa his magic powers?” asked Dawn. He remembered Quincey talking about it last year. 

“Yes, just the one.” 

“Oh, I can’t wait.” 

A tap on his shoulder made Dawn turn around, ending up face to face with Miss Pince. 

“In my new capacity as the head of Palace Office of Press and Protocol, I’d like to have a word with you.” 

“Of course,” said Dawn. “See you later dad, Olympia.” 

Olympia gave him a thumbs up, as Dawn followed Pince to a less crowded area. 

~

Once they were safely out of earshot of any visiting dignitaries, Pince said: “It's clear that you've had a very laissez-faire attitude concerning your image over the past year; magazines, television, blogs…” 

“Blogs, that's what I do for a living,” said Dawn. Ever since his successful article about Quincey, he had run a blog focused on his journey into learning all about Alderlian politics, customs, and of course, details about his own personal life all mixed into a neat little package. He was quite proud of it. “I’m a professional write–,” 

Pince interrupted him: “But now that you're a part of the royal family, we must be careful of the image that you project. Consider me your protector.” 

Dawn wasn’t a fan of where this conversation was headed. “Look, Miss Pince, I know that my life is about to change in a major way, but I’m not going to quit my job.” 

“The goal is to see you and the crown in the best possible light.” 

Dawn sighed, and said: “Well, nothing shines quite like the truth, right?” 

“I'm glad we see eye-to-eye. Please wait here and I'll have the King and you pose for the photographs.” 

~ 

After their photo-op, Quincey led Dawn out of one of the doors lining up the outer wall into a beautiful little courtyard.  

“Irma didn’t give you too much trouble, did she?” he asked. 

“Just wants me to delete my blog,” said Dawn. 

“Yes, we’ve had words about that before,” Quincey said. “She’s just passionate about protecting the image of the royal family. She feels like it is needed now more than ever, when we’re already breaking about a dozen ancient customs just by being together.” 

“I know,” said Dawn and took Quincey’s hands in his. “It’s important to project an image of continuity even through this massive change.” 

“Yes.” 

“Has it been difficult?” Dawn asked. 

“Well, not everyone is as on board with a gay monarch as I had hoped but it was to be expected. I can’t change people’s decades held beliefs overnight, but I know I can make a change over time.” 

“You’re doing a great job,” said Dawn. 

Quincey smiled, but it was a tight smile. He was hiding something, but Dawn didn’t feel like pestering him about it tonight. He was exhausted too. 

“You have a new equerry,” Dawn noted. 

“Oh, yes, her name’s Lainey Bell,” Quincey replied. “We met in uni. She’s about the only thing keeping me afloat right now.” 

Dawn gave him a look and Quincey laughed. “Aside from my everlasting love for you, of course.” 

“We should get a Christmas tree up in here,” Dawn just said, observing the tree-less courtyard. 

“Oh, a good idea!” 

“We could go look for one tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow’s no good, I’m going to town to give a speech.” 

“What kind of speech?” asked Dawn. 

“Well, you know how I’ve been trying to implement the initiative to bring Alderly into the 21st century? Strengthening infrastructure, schools, tech…” 

“It's smart.” 

“That's what I thought but instead of strengthening the economy, the country is bleeding money,” Quincey explained. “And nobody can tell me why.” 

Dawn frowned. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

“Do you know any genius economists?” 

“I can’t say that I do.” 

“I’m having a meeting on Friday, trying to figure this out. Something’s not right.” 

“Can I come?” 

“I would really appreciate it if you did.”  

Dawn smiled and squeezed his hands. “We will figure this out.” 

“I hope you’re right,” Quincey said. “But I also have a feeling like Irma and Miss Yaxley are going to keep you quite busy with the wedding preparations.” 

“Oh, for cock’s sake…” 

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[magicallymalted]

Oh my god yes! 😍

A Christmas Prince; The Royal Wedding CHAPTER 1

Once left alone, Dawn looked around the room. It looked straight out of one of those early 2000s animated Barbie movies. On one of the nightstands Dawn noticed a note, written on familiar hand. He took the paper and read: 

“To my love, with all my heart.

From this day forth,

we shall not be apart.

Poetry can be a challenging art.

If not yet mastered, here's a start.”

Go read the wonderful story @gaygryffindorgal is posting about Dawn and Quincey's festive adventures ❤️

it's not always as lame as the part i chose for this edit, just most of the time!