A/N: This is it – the final chapter! I'd just like to say thank you SO much to everyone who has read and reviewed – you guys are really awesome! :D

"You'll do fine," Galahad says, clapping Kay on the back. "They'd be crazy not to elect you."

Kay bites his nails nervously as he nods. He shoots a glance at his fathers, both of whom are watching the square below them. "You'll do fine, Kay," Merlin says soothingly. "You're by far the best candidate, and the people love you."

"I hope so," he murmurs.

"Oh come on," Morgana says, grabbing his arm. "I'm not letting you watch if you're going to be like this. You can help me choose a dress for the coronation."

Kay shoots Merlin and Arthur a martyred look before allowing himself to be dragged off. While Kay isn't technically Morgana's son, she's always treated him as such – and she has a right to, Merlin supposes, seeing as she carried Kay for him and Arthur for nine months.

Arthur watches them go, looking worried. "Is it too soon?" he asks Merlin as soon as they are out of earshot. "He's so young… what if he's not ready?"

"He's twenty five, Arthur," Merlin says. "That's not much younger than you were when you became king – and besides, he'll still have you for guidance if he ever needs it. It's much better this way – imagine if he only started all this when you died."

Arthur's worried face relaxes into a small smile and he leans over to kiss Merlin. "You're right, of course," he says. Merlin wraps his arm around his husband's waist and watches the spectacle below. It took a long time to organise, but the results are well worth it.

The people of Camelot mill around in the square, casting their votes for the next king. Whoever is chosen will spend a few years under Arthur's guidance before Arthur formally steps down and hands over control to the new king. Most of the candidates are sons of knights, but Arthur allowed anyone to try for the throne, regardless of birth.

"They're done!" Gwen rushes up behind them, her eyes bright with excitement. "Now it's just the counting of the votes."

Arthur squeezes her shoulder affectionately. "I suppose we should go down," he says. "Where's Lancelot?"

"He's with Galahad – the poor boy is so nervous. I wasn't sure about his choice at first, but I've really come around, watching him these past few months. If Kay wins, Gal will make a fine second in command."

"That he will," Arthur says warmly. "Come on, let's go."

The three of them go down to the round table, where all of the candidates are assembled. Gwen goes at once to her son. Merlin shoots Kay a smile, but doesn't speak, as Arthur has just called for silence.

"I want you all to know," he says to the room at large, "that whatever the outcome of today, what I have seen in these past few months gives me nothing but confidence for Camelot's future. Each and every one of you is fit for the throne, and I know that you will all give your support to whoever is chosen. Thank you, all, for allowing the people of Camelot the chance to choose you for their new king."

Kay is the first to start clapping, and the others soon follow. Merlin looks around at the small group of people, and though he is nervous, the sight settles him slightly. While each of these men would dearly like the throne, he knows that they will accept it if they fail, putting their support behind the new monarch, whoever he is.

Everyone settles down while they wait for the counting to be done. Most of the counts from the outlying villages have already come in, so it shouldn't take too long for Geoffrey to tally everything up. Merlin knows Gwen tried to persuade him to give her a hint as to who was leading, but he's not surprised that Geoffrey kept the secret well-guarded.

"I wonder if any women will give it a try next time around," Morgana muses, sidling up to Merlin. "It's a shame I probably won't get to see it."

"I'm sure they will," Merlin says. "It'll take time for people to accept that Camelot can as easily have a queen as a king, no matter what decrees Arthur puts in place."

Morgana doesn't seem to be listening – she's watching Kay intently. "I suppose we are doing the right thing," she murmurs, a questioning note in her voice. "Letting the people vote, that is. I mean, Kay is Arthur's son – he could have taken the throne without any votes necessary and no one would have known anything different."

"No, this is the right thing to do," Merlin says. "Arthur and Kay discussed it – we're all agreed it's best for the people to have a choice, to be fully in support of whoever their king turns out to be. Arthur offered, you know – he said that if Kay didn't want it, he wouldn't hold a vote and we'd go the traditional way. Kay shot him down."

Merlin smiles fondly at his son. "He's so like Arthur like that – he believes so strongly in fairness, no matter what it means for him."

"Well, he's certainly got a good chance at it," Morgana says. "I'm pretty sure he has the support of all the Druids, at least."

"Though he's lost the support of others because of it," Merlin points out. "It's been over thirty years, but some people still don't trust magic."

Morgana rolls her eyes before throwing a fond glance at Kay. His eyes remain a clear blue, though, with no trace of gold. Merlin taught him well, and Kay never flaunts his magic or uses it for anything bad. He's become quite the healer, though – he trained with the Druids for a couple of years and came back performing miracles for nobles and peasants alike.

Arthur comes up behind Merlin, wrapping his arms around him. "You nervous?" he murmurs.

"Aren't we all?" Merlin chuckles.

Before either of them can say anything else, Geoffrey opens the doors. "The count is up," he says solemnly. "We are ready to make the announcement."

Arthur leads the candidates out into the square to a raised platform that was prepared beforehand. He and Merlin stand apart from the others – though they would have preferred to be by Kay's side, Arthur insists that they at least try to remain impartial.

Geoffrey stands up on the platform, holding a small slip of paper in his hand. So small, to carry the future of Camelot.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he begins, "over the past few weeks, every citizen who wishes to has had the chance to vote for their next king. We have meticulously counted the votes and come to the conclusion of this event." He clears his throat importantly, squinting down at the paper, though he surely already knows which name is on it.

The whole square seems to hold its breath.

"With a majority of seven out of every ten votes, the next king of Camelot is Sir Kay Pendragon."

There is a split second in which Kay turns, seeking Arthur's gaze and finding pride and joy shining back at him from his father's face. Then the square erupts in cheers.

Merlin throws himself across the platform, grabbing Kay's shoulders and hugging him fiercely. Arthur isn't far behind, and soon Gwen, Lancelot and Galahad join the pile. The other candidates are cheering and clapping Kay on the back.

Geoffrey struggles to make himself heard over the clamour. "The ceremony will take place…"

He trails off, looking scandalised when nobody pays him any attention.

"In three days, we know," Arthur shouts in his ear – he has to shout, as it's the only way he'll be heard. Geoffrey frowns; he had wanted to stick to tradition as much as possible and crown the victor at once, but Merlin put his foot down. Whoever was elected would want to celebrate, not sit in a stuffy room and listen to boring speeches.

Kay is embracing Galahad, laughing, his face still alight with joy. "Go on, son, have your party," Arthur says indulgently. "We're proud of you."

Kay doesn't need any more prompting than that. He and his fellow ex-candidates join arms and stroll off to wherever they have planned their celebration, stopping to talk to excited people on the way.

"I knew he could do it," Arthur says, his face shining with pride.

"We both did," Merlin says.

"You're both liars – but I did," Morgana says.

Merlin gasps. "You didn't!"

She smiles smugly.

Arthur splutters indignantly at her. "You dreamed this and you didn't tell us?"

"You know that seeing the future causes more trouble than good, Arthur," Morgana says. "Besides, I wouldn't want to have ruined the surprise."

"How long?" Arthur demands. "How long did you know?"

She just smiles cheekily at him and saunters off.

Arthur turns to Merlin, who promptly bursts out laughing. Arthur can't manage to keep a straight face and throws his arm around Merlin's shoulder as he chuckles.

They stand arm in arm, watching their son disappear into a crowd of well-wishers.

"It'll be strange," Arthur says, "not ruling anymore. When the time comes."

"He's got it well in hand," Merlin says. "You've only been training him since he was two."

Arthur rolls his eyes, but squeezes Merlin's hand, unable to keep the smirk off his face.

The two men watch their son as he takes the mantle of all their wishes and dreams, and carries it into the future.

The End