PRESENT
"And that," Gilgamesh declared, his voice thick with satisfaction, "is the end."
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its golden light dancing across the room.
Ancient tapestries lined the walls, whispering of long-forgotten battles and heroic deeds. But the stories woven in those threads paled in comparison to the one told, what felt like every fucking night...
The Pendragon grandchildren sat sprawled across the plush cushions, wide-eyed and restless. But Elizabeth, Arthur, and Cesealia's Daughter wasn't having it.
"The end?" she echoed, her ginger curls bouncing as she sprang up. "What do you mean, the end?"
He arched a brow, "I do not repeat myself, Lizzie."
"That's it? After all that? You can't just stop!" Callisto chimed in, his little fists clenched at the injustice.
Seraphina huffed dramatically, flopping back against a cushion. "I wanted more kicking, but!" She held her fists up, punching the air.
Gilgamesh sighed, the sound of a man burdened by far too many years and far too many offspring. "You know, I'm getting too old to be telling this story a hundred times."
"You're not that old, Grandpa," Elizabeth argued with a grin. "Besides, Auntie Elaine said you love stories."
Before he could argue, a soft laugh came from the corner of the room. Arthuria sat near the window; her smile was one Gilgamesh could never quite prepare for.
"It's no one's fault we have such an interesting family, Gil."
He sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. "Interesting," he grumbled. "That's one word for it."
Just then, the doors swung open. Rhyssand strolled in, his dark hair tousled from the breeze, and his signature amused grin firmly in place. "Alright, little beats, Time to go."
Trailing behind him was Arthur.
Callisto and Seraphina, both racing to their father like they hadn't seen him in days — despite the fact it had barely been an hour.
Arthur followed, and as soon as Elizabeth spotted him, she dashed forward, latching onto his arm, as he scooped her into his embrace.
"Daddy!" she exclaimed
"Yes, flower," he chirped
"Grandpa just finished the story! And he said it's the end and it's not fair!" she exclaimed
"How about I read you a story?" Arthur smirked, ruffling her hair. " After you shower. Brush your teeth, kiss your mother goodnight, then you'll go to sleep."
She frowned.
Cesealia was the last to enter, looking equally radiant and exhausted. Elizabeth immediately flung herself at her mother's side, nearly knocking her over.
"You're getting too big for this, Lizzie," her mother teased, brushing stray curls from her daughter's face.
"I'm growing strong like Grandpa Gil!"
Gilgamesh, thoroughly unimpressed, waved a hand dismissively. "Take your spawns. It's my me time."
Rhyssand quirked a brow, the amusement in his violet eyes impossible to miss. "You have a me time?"
"I think he means away from us time," Artizea said, very pregnant and visibly exhausted, and snorted. Her hand rubbed at her lower back, the strain of carrying another celestial hybrid, but despite it all, a grin tugged at her lips.
Gilgamesh's smirk returned, slowly. "No," he corrected smoothly. "I mean, alone time with your mother."
Arthur gagged.
Rhyssand froze.
Eugene, who had been silently passing the room to avoid any chaos, countied on his way.
Arthuria merely shook her head.
"Well," Rhyssand coughed, hastily reaching for Callisto's hand. "That's our cue. Time to go."
Artizea nods her head ."Like Now."
"Like Yesterday-" Arthur added, practically dragging Elizabeth along.
Cecelia, cheeks slightly flushed, could barely suppress her laughter.
"Goodnight, Your Majesties," she managed with a bow, though the giggle she stifled was evident.
In a rush of stumbling children and embarrassed husbands, the family fled.
And as the door finally closed, leaving Gilgamesh and Arthuria alone, the king grinned with satisfaction. "I think that went rather well." He said
Arthuria laughed softly."You're a terrible liar."
He leaned closer, the glow of the fire catching in his eyes. "I wasn't lying, Arthuria."
"Gil, you have a problem."
The Next Day
The golden halls of the palace were buzzing with quiet excitement. The 22nd wedding anniversary of King Gilgamesh and Queen Arthuria was approaching, and the celebration was destined to be grand—a festival spanning across the city, feasts prepared for nobles and commoners alike, a night of dancing, music, and endless wine. But for Artizea, Arthur, Eugene, and Elaine, the grand festivities were secondary. Because they had a surprise planned. A perfect surprise.
The royal family sat at the long breakfast table, the morning light spilling through the grand windows, casting a warm glow over the golden plates and silver goblets. Gilgamesh sat at the head, exuding his usual lazy regality, his wine goblet already in hand despite the early hour. Arthuria sat at his right, sipping her tea, her eyes sharp enough to see through whatever nonsense was unfolding before her. And their children—all four of them—were acting suspiciously.
Artizea finished her meal swiftly, dabbing at her lips with a napkin before standing. "We should be going," glaring at her siblings.
Arthur quickly shoveled the last bite of his bread into his mouth and stood as well, "Agreed."
Eugene immediately set his fork down neatly. And offered no excuse.
Elaine, bouncing in her seat with excitement barely contained, then rose aswell.
Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed slightly. "Where exactly are you all going in such a hurry?"
Arthur, who had already prepared an excuse, replied smoothly, "We have… business to tend to."
He raised a brow. "Business?"
Arthuria, sensing the tension, set down her tea and smirked slightly. "What kind of business?"
Artizea's expression did not waver. "Private business."
Gilgamesh exhaled slowly, tapping a single finger against the table. "I see."
There was silence. But Elaine, being Elaine, unable to fully contain herself, ran back, wrapping her small arms around Arthuria in a tight hug, before turning and racing to Gilgamesh, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "We love you, Father!" she grinned before dashing after her siblings.
Gilgamesh blinked. He set his goblet down. "They are up to something."
"Oh, undoubtedly."
He leaned back, sighing dramatically. "I have never trusted when they all work together," he groaned, rubbing his temple. "This can only end in disaster."
Arthuria merely laughed.
The Pendragon paced together down the grand halls of the palace, their steps measured, their minds focused. As they made their way down the polished marble corridors, Rhyssand fell in step beside Artizea, his violet eyes sparkling with amusement.
Trailing behind him were their children — Callisto and Seraphina — who, despite their best attempts to remain calm, were grinning ear to ear.
"Did you see Grandpa's face?" Elizabeth giggled, half-skipping alongside her cousins as they followed down the grand corridor.
"He's suspicious." Seraphina chimed, her small wings fluttering as she twirled with excitement. "But we didn't give anything away!"
Callisto, ever the thoughtful one, frowned slightly. "He's going to figure it out. Grandpa always does."
"Maybe," Elizabeth said with a mischievous grin, "but it'll be too late by then!"
The trio erupted into laughter, their joyous giggles echoing through the golden halls.
After all, the best surprises always came when you least expected them.
"Are we still pretending we're not up to something?" Rhyssand teased, his arm brushing against Artizea's.
"We're maintaining plausible deniability," Artizea answered dryly, though the slight curve of her lips betrayed her.
Rhyssand laughed softly, but then his eyes flicked to Callisto, who was trying very hard to look innocent.
"And what about you two?"
Callisto, with his father's mischievous streak, shrugged dramatically.
"I'm just here for the adventure."
Seraphina clutched a small velvet pouch, her little wings fluttering excitedly.
"And I have a job! Mama said it's a very important job!"
Rhyssand arched a brow."Of course it is."
Meanwhile, Arthur and Cecelia led the second half of the operation.
Cecelia's soft laughter echoed through the halls as she held Elizabeth's hand, the little girl practically skipping alongside her.
"Daddy's nervous," Ceaselia whispered to Elizabeth.
"Daddy is not," Arthur retorted, though the way he adjusted his collar said otherwise.
"He is," Elizabeth giggled. "It's okay, Daddy. I'll protect you from Grandpa Gil."
Arthur gave her an exaggerated look of gratitude. "My brave little knight."
Elizabeth stood tall, puffing out her chest. "That's me!"
As they walked, each family portrait passed them by like echoes of time—the history of their bloodline immortalized in paint. The first portrait was of their parents alone—THE KING AND QUEEN. Side by Side, Young and Unshaken.
The next—Artizea and Arthur, still children, standing at their feet.
Then, Eugene joined them.
Then, Elaine. Every four years, a new portrait was painted, and their family grew.
It was perfect. And for every four years after that, the tradition continued. With more children. More chaos. And more proof that the Pendragon and Mesipatamion bloodlines had never been meant for the weak. They were real. They were messy. They were legends.
Elaine stopped.
The others turned to see what had caught her attention. It was the largest portrait in the entire hall—one framed in pure gold, bathed in the soft light of the midday sun filtering through the windows. It was their parents' wedding portrait. Gilgamesh, regal in his crimson and white, standing at the altar with Arthuria beside him, clad in a white gown embroidered with a long regal thread. Their hands were clasped, and their eyes were locked as if they were the only ones present in the world. Elaine's voice was soft."They look so happy."
Artizea, ever the stoic one, allowed a small smile to tug at her lips. "They do…"
Rhyssand looked at her the same way Gil looked at her mother with pure undying love.
Arthur caught it and wrinkled his nose. So did Eugene. They both said in union, "Gross."
Elaine immediately smacked them on the back of the head. "Shut up, you too."
Arthur huffed, rubbing the sore spot, and Eugene said nothing more. For a long moment, the four of them simply stood there, staring at the portrait. Then—they nodded.
"Let's make this the greatest anniversary in the six realms." Artizea said app
They rushed off in four different directions, each disappearing to carry out their respective plans. Because this would be a celebration unlike any other. One that even the gods would envy.
The grand hall of the palace was embroidered with the people of the city, nobles, lords, warriors, and even common folk, all dressed in their finest silks and armor, feasting and drinking in celebration of the kingdom's greatest love story.
The King and Queen sat above them, upon the grand throne-like balcony, overlooking the celebration, drinking in the sight of their people and their family. Gilgamesh, in all his ageless glory, sat relaxed.
Arthuria, dressed in regal Pendragon blue, her golden hair braided with delicate threads of silver, sat beside him, poised yet unknowingly nervous.
They had been warned with a surprise, and knowing them, it could be anything.
The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the hall. At the center of the vast room, Egune lifted his hands, weaving magic through the air, dimming the torches until only the soft glow of firelight flickered along the walls. Then, from the rafters above, Elaine released the fireflies. A collective gasp filled the room as hundreds of tiny golden lights floated through the air like wandering stars, illuminating the great hall with a soft, celestial glow. Finally, two figures stepped onto the grand podium.
Artizea. Arthur.
Their eldest children.
Artizea was the first to speak.
"Welcome, friends, family, lords, and commoners alike. Thank you for gathering here tonight as we celebrate what can only be described as one of the greatest miracles in history—" She paused dramatically. "That our mother is still alive after all these years being married to our father."
The hall erupted into laughter.
Arthuria herself let out a chuckle, shaking her head.
Gilgamesh, unimpressed, gave a small 'tsk', sipping his wine.
Then, Arthur took over from his sister, clearing his throat with a mischievous grin.
"Now, let's raise our cups to the King and Queen—" he declared. "And pray we don't have a new sibling on the way."
A collective gasp of amusement rang out.
Gilgamesh arched an eyebrow. Arthuria nearly choked on her drink.
Artizea, horrified, immediately smacked Arthur upside the head in sheer horror. "And on that note—" she rushed to conclude, "LET THE SHOW BEGIN."
The lights dim out completely. A soft, mystical glow filled the room as the music began, a slow melody filled the room.
A small figure emerged first—Elizabeth. Dressed in miniature silver armor, a tiny replica of Arthuria's legendary battle attire. She carried a miniature sword, her little boots clicking proudly against the marble floor as she marched onto the stage.
Behind her came Callisto. He was Gilgamesh reborn in miniature, his golden armor gleaming under the soft light, a flowing red cape draped behind him. But the real showstopper, His white angelic wings flared proudly behind him, stretching wide as he stood tall.
The audience let out a collective gasp of awe.
Gilgamesh, watching from above, raised an eyebrow, amused. "Interesting."
Arthuria, already covering her face in mild horror, could sense what was coming. "Oh dear gods no."
Callisto stepped forward, puffed out his little chest, and pointed directly at Elizabeth.
"You will be my wife, Arthuria Pendragon!" he declared boldly, his little voice ringing through the hall.
The audience burst into laughter.
Elizabeth stood firm, gripping her sword, lifting her chin proudly.
"I would sooner die than marry a tyrant!" she declared, falling to the ground, "Bleh--"
Callisto flicked his non-existent cape dramatically. "Ah! But you have no choice, for I am handsome and powerful! And you, dear Arthuria, shall be my wife, and I—your handsome husband!"
The room erupted with laughter.
Seraphina then glided onto the stage, her black hair and golden eyes gleaming mischievously.
She carried a basket full of deep blue and red roses, and with each step, she sprinkled petals around Elizabeth.
"I swear upon my people of the gardens, I shall love you forever," Elizabeth mused, grinning.
"And I swear to love you and our Many children!" Callisto chimed.
More Laughter filled the court, and then—the music shifted. A soft wind stirred through the room, and as the melody deepened into something ancient and beautiful, two more figures stepped forward.
Artizea and Elaine
The eldest daughter and the youngest.
Pride and joy
They moved together, twirling in slow, precise movements, a reflection of grace and power, the unshakable bond of sisters. Their dance was fluid, effortless, a balance of fire and water, steel and silk. Then, Arthur and Egune joined. Arthur—strong, steady, a perfect counter to Artizea's movements. Egune—graceful, flowing, seamlessly lifting Elaine as she twirled, like a petal caught in the wind.
They were a four-leaf clover, a sign of good luck to follow them wherever they went.
And then—Rhyssand stepped in, taking Artizea's hand, his dark wings shifting behind him as they spun together. Ceseala followed, pairing with Arthur, her movements sharp yet elegant.
Egune, ever the dramatic one, grabbed Elaine's hand, twirling her once before all at once. They turned toward the King and Queen. Hands extended.
A silent invitation.
The music slowed, and the Pendragon dynasty stood in all its glory, waiting.
Arthuria exhaled softly. "No-" she laughed, shaking her head. "We are too old for this."
Gilgamesh, however, was already standing. He held a hand out to her, smirking."My love, please?"
She looked at him, eyes flickering with something warm and unspoken. And then—she whispered. "I'm glad you answered my letter."
Gilgamesh paused. For a moment, he simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, his smirk softened, just slightly.
"So am I."
And then, scoffing, she placed her hand in his.
Together, they descended from the balcony, the great hall parting as the King and Queen. The moment their feet touched the floor, the music changed. No longer a delicate, practiced performance—but something familiar.
Arthuria realized it the moment she heard the shift in melody. It was their song. The one played at their wedding all those years ago. She turned to her children, eyes narrowing. "You planned this."
Arthur grinned. "Well, Dad technically did, we merely helped, but I will still take my credit-"
"Arthur-" Artizea hissed.
"It was Dad," Arthur mumbled out.
Gilgamesh only smirked.
As Arthuria moved to place her hand in Gilgamesh's, surrounded by their children and the warmth of their anniversary celebration, her thoughts drifted back—back to a day etched into history, yet forever personal to her.
What had mattered was that moment.
There had been no father to walk her down the aisle.
No male relative to symbolically hand her away, to offer her to another kingdom, another man, another fate.
And she had preferred it that way.
Arthuria had walked alone.
Down the long, golden aisle of the grand temple of Uruk, where nobles and dignitaries from across the realms had gathered. She had felt their eyes upon her, their whispers brushing against her skin, some in awe, others in uncertainty.
A queen who once led armies.
A bride with no guardian to give her away.
But she had never needed one.
Each step she took was her own.
From loneliness, from duty, from the burden of the past—
To the future.
To him.
The moment the ceremonial music began, Gilgamesh looked at her. As if she were the most beautiful thing in the universe. As if she were the sun and the stars and the world itself.
His partner.
His equal.
His future.
She stepped onto the dais, standing before him, the altar bathed in candlelight. The head of the temple, the high priest, stood before them, his voice steady, unshaken, filled with ancient tradition.
"Do you, King Gilgamesh of Uruk, take this woman, The Lady Arthuria Pendragon's last name, To pass on this sacred dynasty?"
"I do," he said without hesitation
Then, the priest turned to her.
"Do you, Lady Arthuria Pendragon, take this man—King Gilgamesh—To rule beside him, to forge a new future?"
Arthuria had held his gaze, strong and steady. "I do."
Most royal weddings ended in a kiss. But theirs—theirs was more than just marriage. It was a coronation. As tradition dictated, it was not the high priest who crowned the king and queen. It was each other. Gilgamesh turned first, lifting the golden crown of kings, encrusted with the gems that once were worn by the ancient rulers of Mesopotamia. He placed it atop her golden hair, the weight of it fitting her as if it had always belonged there.
"Queen Arthuria Pendragon of the Human realm," he declared
Then, she lifted his crown—the crown of rulers, the same one he had once worn alone. And she placed it back upon his head as he knelt. "King Gilgamesh Pendragon of the human realm ."
The temple erupted into cheers, but Arthuria had not heard them. Because Gilgamesh had pulled her down to kiss her. A kiss that was not a promise, but a declaration. That from this moment forward, through war and peace, through divinity and mortality—
They were husband and wife.
Till Death Do them Part.
"Mother?"
Arthuria blinked, snapped back to the present as Artizea touched her arm gently, looking at her with an amused expression.
"Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to dance with Father?"
Gilgamesh, smirking beside her, lifted an eyebrow. "Lost in thought, my love?"
Arthuria exhaled slowly, a soft smile touching her lips. "Just remembrance." And then, as he had done before, all those years ago, before she could protest, he spun her into his arms, guiding her into the familiar steps of an old dance—their dance, the one they had first danced at their wedding thirty years ago. The music swelled, surrounded by their family, their people, their kingdom—
They had danced this countless times before.
But tonight—
It felt different.
It felt like all those years ago when she had first stepped into the unknown with him. The sound of harps and violins filled the air, slow and enchanting, as the lights returned only to the center stage.
Elaine stood alone. The youngest of them all, bathed in golden light, moved like the wind—soft, graceful, a whisper of silk and shadow. Her movements were a story—a silent tale of a queen's journey, of a warrior who became a wife, a mother, a ruler.
Then, more figures emerged.
Artizea.
Arthur.
Egune.
One by one, they joined the dance. Eugene bickered playfully with Elaine as they moved in circles around them.
Gilgamesh pulled her closer, spinning her beneath the golden firelight, whispering something only for her to hear. "After twenty-two years, battles and four impossible children, and thier spawns, were still here, my love. Till Death Do Us Part."