AN: sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry. I know it's been forever. But here, finally, is the long-awaited final chapter. Oh, and I have a livejournal! (I know, I'm like the only person in the world who didn't have one…) still, Please take a look when you have a moment to drop me a line. (link is on the profile page)

Perfection is a road, not a destination. Every time I live, I get an education.

-Burk Hudson

The end, and what happened after…

In many ways, my story was over; looking back now, however, I realise that in many ways it was only the beginning. I realise I rather left you hanging there back in the bedroom with my father. However, I'll warn you that the conclusion of the bedroom tête-à-tête was considerably less exciting than the beginning.

"Gary," my father asked in a dangerously controlled voice, "was that Cynthera of Elden in your closet?" I eyed my father's apoplectic countenance with trepidation and coughed slightly.

"Er…No?" I replied hopefully. Looking as if he was trying hard to resist rolling his eyes, my Father marched towards the wardrobe, yanking the door open. I winced slightly as Cythera tumbled out, looking unlike her usual graceful self. My father raised an eyebrow in an unnecessarily smug manner. I frowned anxiously at my father, doing my best to appear vaguely puzzled.

"Really father," I began in what I hoped was a concerned tone, "do you get these, well, I don't like to call them hallucinations, but…" I trailed off delicately, "it can happen, you know, as one gets older—"

"My office, Gareth," He interrupted, "Now"

"You know," I commented, "you look remarkably like Alan when you're angry. Uncanny," I remarked, "what? I'm going." Throwing Cythera a vaguely apologetic glance, I followed my irate father, my mind already buzzing with ways to get out of the spot I was in.

As it happened, it was easier than I had anticipated. After convincing The Man that yes, Cythera's virtue was indeed as intact as ever, and that no, I didn't plan on making a habit of kidnapping court ladies and stuffing them in my closet, and that no, I had no idea what the Delia Incident that caused Jon to leap into my closet was, he let me go. Sort of. As punishment for my lack of decorum and propriety as well as disturbing the peace, I seemed to be doing all the chores for the entire palace for the nest ten years. But as long as he wasn't threatening to disembowel me, I wasn't going to complain.

"You know, son," he told me as I got up to leave the office, "you want to watch yourself. It's little things that you do now which never seem of much importance that'll come back to haunt you. Just so you know." Indeed, I thought.

After this, Cythera and I were considerably more cautious about our assignations. To our relief, not a scrap of gossip made the rounds of the sort about us. We didn't even let our friends know, at least until Jon and Alan walked in on us. Neither of them looked remarkably surprised, to be honest.

"Well," Alan had commented, rolling his eyes, "It makes more sense than your excuse of having tea with your great aunt, what, every three days?"

"That's my boy," Jon had told me, winking in an alarmingly sleazy way, "knew you had it in you."

Our relationship was, well, turbulent would be one way to put it. Our personalities clashed frequently, and neither of us forgave easily. And that was the reason we decided to call it quits about one month later, when her mother asked her to return home for a while. At first, it felt like my heart had been torn out of my chest, and I wrote to her every day, begging her to come back. Eventually, however, I wrote less and less, until we never seemed to bother at all.

After all, I had my share of distractions. The new court ladies each seemed more beautiful then the next, the political situation was getting messy, and I dove in with gusto. And then Alan turned out not to be Alan at all, but Alanna, a fact that turned the court on it's ear, and had the entire kingdom in an uproar for a good year or so. With Duke Roger's death, there were an endless stream of nobles with damaged pride and a conspiracy to be uprooted. Just as things were settling down again, however, King Roald died, and the palace collapsed around itself once again. As Prime Minister, I was in the thick of things once again, by now having completely forgotten about Cythera of Elden. About a year after the second attempt by Roger to seize power, things were finally quiet enough for my mother to pull me aside, and (once again) demand to know when I was getting married.

"I don't know, Mother," I had snapped impatiently, "fix me up with some pretty and clever girl and I'll be happy. Now, if you don't mind? I have to finish this letter to the Gallan Ambassador by tonight…"

"I don't know Gareth," she had replied doubtfully, "I'll discuss it with your father, but…"

Three weeks later, my father, with an outlandish amount of glee announced his son's betrothal to Lady Cythera of Elden. When I first saw her glide down the stairs after she returned, I fell in love all over again. She was, if possible even more beautiful than I remembered. Her carefree, almost foolish airs had been tempered with maturity, though she had lost none of her playfulness. She was more woman than waif, and the combination of knowledge and beauty made he irresistible. Always lovely, she was now intoxicating. That first day of re-acquaintance was…awkward. But within a few days, we had fallen into old habits, talking for hours, and laughing about everything.

We learn early in life that there are no such things as happy endings. Cythera and I would have our share of petty squabbles about things like whether to use the gold platters or the silver. Fairy tales are just that: stories. No tale in life ends perfectly. There are no perfect moments in life. But when I saw her enter the chapel on our wedding day, looking like the goddess herself, when the healers put my first-born son in my arms for the first time, I realised that that doesn't really matter. Life isn't perfect, but enough of it is pretty damn close.

AN: And…there it is! MANY thanks to all my reviewers who inspired me, flattered me, and gave me a much-needed whack in the butt when it was needed. I couldn't have done it without you. I've enjoyed writing this story, and am rather sad to see it go. If you're interested in what I'm doing next, please check my profile page.

Last week's reviewers: Ithinki'macheesetray, megan, midnight thunder, pianoscene, bookwormsrock sopia fallon, spunky huffelpuff13, music nerd, insouciant, Augureycry, wild-vixen, Nazgulgirl, sunkissed guacamole.

All reviewers for this chapter get a left-over chocolate egg.

Ciao!