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gaygryffindorgal · 4 months

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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…”

tag list: @lifeofkaze

(ask if you want to be included or removed)

#fic: the royal wedding #a christmas prince au #dawn harvelle #quincey alderly #dawncey #here we are girls and gays!!!#*my writing #yes dawn's blog is called 'dawn's blog'#*tess is FIVE years older than dawn NOT FOUR #i can't count

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