Chapter Text
It was a warm spring evening in Gotham and the kingdom’s prince stood in the castle courtyard. The sun had dipped below the horizon and yet, the sky remained a peaceful burnt orange speckled by fluffy clouds and sweet pollen. Cloudy springs were typical of Gotham, a kingdom stationed in the middle of the known world, enjoying temperate seasons that reflected its rulers' benevolence and moderation. The castle sat atop a steep hill that afforded a generous view of the surrounding city, bustling with noisy life, and the quieter fields that stretched out towards the small villages and forests that belonged to the kingdom. From the courtyard balcony, it all seemed so small and insignificant. The winding streets that laced through the city were equivalent to curling locks of hair, and the houses, small enough to be the end of an embroiderer's pin, appeared as if little triangles all painted their own unique colour.
This view of the kingdom was Dick’s favourite. As a child, he had imagined that one day the responsibility for their city would rest in his own palms. That was the role of a firstborn; to become the personless monolith that represented all that was good about Gotham. His father, King Bruce, performed the duty so gracefully that he wondered if he would ever live up to the role. Not that it mattered anymore. The clouds dashed about the sky frantically and he sighed, running a hand through his dark curls. Behind his gazing form, the servants were setting about readying the dinner table and his family, two unruly brothers who could be no less alike, and of course their father, were slowly amassing. Focusing on the city before him and its shimmering beauty, Dick wondered if it all would be different if he had not presented as an Omega.
In Gotham, one’s secondary sex meant little in convention. In this way, the kingdom was considered rather permissive by other rulers; a place in which traditional values were overrun by perverse desire, unnatural familial structures and deviant faithlessness. Presenting as an Omega had caused little fuss and in fact, his position within the family, as the heir, as his father’s most beloved of his bastard children, had not changed at all. Instead, he had been taught by his governess about the new expectations of his sex and how this would physically change him, not that Dick needed lessons regarding this issue.
Having finally presented at the late age of sixteen, Dick had meticulously noted the changes he was undergoing. First, it was the shift in his scent from something of milk and cotton to the lingering smell of hazelnut pralines the cooks crafted when they held a feast, followed by a deeper more earthy sweetness that reminded him of the cedar forests his family often hunted in. Then alongside this came the changes to his body. Slowly but surely, his stubborn hips became round with softness and his chest lost its definition, melding into two small handfuls of pliable tissue. He had to be fitted with new clothes when he could no longer fit his classic hose over his thighs and his wardrobe was steadily filled with classical Omega dress including tight-fitting tunics that accentuated his waist, dainty sleep gowns that hid none of the new curves he had developed, and long-sleeved shirts with high collars to cover the rather frustrating scent glands he had developed on the slope of his neck and wrists.
Most frustratingly, his governess no longer wished to cut his hair so drastically and so, his dark black curls licked the back of his neck, brushing against his collar whenever he moved his head. Having hidden a blade under his pillows, every so often Dick would approach the vanity and cut the front of his hair himself. Now, due to a little self improvement, his hair framed his slim face perfectly, falling in jagged curls around his full eyebrows, high cheekbones, and well-formed jaw. Omegan fate had plumped his cheeks but had done little to challenge the rest of his face, allowing him to keep his father’s determined expression and deep blue eyes.
At least he got to wear more lace, he pondered as he looked out to the city. In the spring warmth, his high undershirt collar was irritating as it pressed meanly against his scent gland. He wished it gone but knew that despite his kingdom’s liberal attitudes, some conventions had to be upheld. Overhearing stories from servants and lady’s maids, he knew that most Omegas outside of Gotham knew little of the freedom granted within the city walls. If it weren’t for the war, Dick would have been the first Omega king. He sighed wistfully, what a sight that would have been. The worst of it all was that he knew his father wanted him to ascend the throne; this new outcome was neither Dick nor the King’s choice. Dick straightened his back, chewing on the inside of his mouth as a reminder not to become too fantastical about his predicament.
Dick was the duty-bound first prince of the kingdom of Gotham. There was a war raging through their known world and as a dutiful prince, he would do all that he could to protect his people and his pack even if that meant leaving all that he knew. Even if that meant marrying Slade Wilson, the bloody king of the neighbouring kingdom, Cindralith.
“Brother!” His younger brother Timothy, a pup of around fourteen with straight black hair, a slim build, and a ravenous mind, called out to him. “I have been doing some reading on the kingdom of Cindralith for you.”
Dick could not help but smile softly as he turned to face Timothy. “Oh, have you?”
Dick was eight years his elder and thoroughly enjoyed the pup’s childish enthusiasm. When Timothy had been told of their father’s agreement, he had gone on hunger strike for a week, refusing to speak with anyone until the issue was reversed. Of course, it was not such a fickle choice, and after explaining slowly to his pup brother that this task, although unappealing in all senses, was simply another of Dick’s duties to the crown, he had ended his strike.
“Come here and let me scent you first.” Dick pulled the boy forward by his cuffs.
“Dick!” Timothy whispered, blushing deeply as his brother nosed at his throat happily. Such a show of pack affection was technically limited to the pack’s personal quarters but with his time at home slowly slipping away, Dick had no respect for such emotionless preaching.
Nuzzling his neck, Dick smelt that clean pup smell, followed by a brooding undertone of spice-filled saffron; it seemed as if Timothy’s presentation was nearing and for a brief moment, Dick wished all fates to shape his brother into anything but an Omega.
“Go on then.” He pulled back from Timothy, allowing him to squirm away. “Tell me what you have read.” They walked back to the table, leaving the city view behind.
“Well, Cindralith has been ruled by the Wilsons for centuries.”
Dick felt a shiver run over his spine at the name of his soon-to-be King.
“They are a humble and hardy people. Apparently the winters are extremely cold and the summers are not much better. Their capital Defiance hosts most of the population - the rest appear to be scattered about the wilderness”
Dick pulled out his chair beside the head of the table. “Perhaps, I will get to wear fur.”
Timothy nodded, sitting opposite Dick, “I will warn you, their rules on secondary sex are confusing and convoluted. Omegas are not permitted in most institutions, although whether this applies to the nobility seems unclear.”
His brother was trying to be as kind as possible, spelling out Dick’s miserable future with deep empathy. Frustration and sadness were bubbling away within Dick’s stomach and he fisted his hands in his lap, attempting to see past the blatant unfairness of his situation. He wanted to stay in Gotham with his pack.
“Well, let’s hope these rules are all show and no substance. Ah, your Grace.” Dick spotted his father, standing to greet him happily.
His father, the King, was a tall man with broad shoulders and a stern complexion. He was also an Alpha, obvious in the depth of his voice and the strength of his jaw. Their close relationship had shifted since Dick’s presentation and Dick had noted the sceptical and guarded way Bruce protected him. The King clearly still loved his son, but the weight of the war was becoming too great to bear and his earnest belief in Dick’s dutiful astuteness had forced him to make a sacrifice he could have never imagined.
“I have another letter,” his father stated, very matter-of-factly.
His clothes, a smart tunic, thick girdle belt, and woollen hose were stained a dark grey ash colour,expensive and showing off the strength of his body. For all of his life, the King had been a military man and yet, no war had come so close to Gotham’s borders. With the growing troops in the south and the fall of long-standing allies, the King’s face was marked by sleepless nights and emotional turmoil. It was difficult for Dick to observe.
“It is from Cindralith.” The King could not even look Dick in the eyes at the shame of what he had cursed his son to.
His father held the letter tightly in his right hand and Dick resolved to sit himself down as well, having not received the usual paternal scenting that he adored.
“Should we eat first?” Dick suggested with a surprising lightness to his voice.
Even though the action was being done to him, he seemed the least stricken by the prospect and simply wished to go about his remaining days in Gotham as if nothing was planned at all.
“Where is Jason?”
“Yes, where is your brother?” the King redirected the question to Timothy who shrugged quietly.
Dick inhaled tiredly and cringed at the bitter stress that peppered the air; the hurt extending from his father was enough to make his own scent sour and he did his best to try and project contented serenity from his body. Even if it was working, it did little to dominate the weight of the King’s novel anxiety.
“He shall have to join us later.”
“Yes,” Dick smiled, waiting for his father, their Alpha, to take the first portion of food. He sat quietly in his chair, watching as the King portioned his own amount before passing the plate towards Dick’s brother. As an Omega, Dick had to make sure that everyone else was satisfied before himself; it was an easy rule to abide by. When the plate finally reached him, he scooped up a small amount, aware that his missing adolescent Alpha brother had an unquenchable appetite.
“So how was the council meeting, Father?” Dick ate slowly, savouring the taste of home.
His father meanwhile, with the knowledge that he would always know their cook’s flavours, ate quickly as if the food would be otherwise taken from him.
He hummed, obviously uncertain in his words to Dick. “Well, I have good news from King Kal. He has pushed back Luthor’s army at Metropol and regained his territory there.”
Dick placed down his knife and fork. “That is wonderful news. I am glad.”
“We are making steady progress indeed. Now we turn south toward Nanda Parbat, securing a victory will stabilise the region and grant us the chance to get rid of Ras and Luthor once and for all.”
Nanda Parbat was the kingdom south of Gotham, a luscious land speckled by deep mountain ranges and flat deserts. Here the fighting had grown particularly bloody and a call to arms had been issued, amassing a wide number of battalions only a week's ride from Dick’s home. That’s why his marriage was so important. His father continued on, speaking and eating, but Dick was no longer listening.
His mind had drifted to Slade Wilson, King of Cindralith, and his future husband. To Dick’s knowledge, they had never met and yet, Dick had heard a myriad of horrific tales regarding the man’s military campaigns. Once he overheard a maid whisper that he was in fact part wolf and had canines as long as an Alpha’s finger. He was an Alpha, of course, double Dick’s age, older than his own father, and his senior in every sense. Already he had three children, two Alphas and one Beta; one of them, the daughter, was a bastard but had been fully integrated into the pack without question. However their Queen had been made obsolete and the man had ruled alone for what seemed like decades.
When King Wayne was a young Alpha, he had fought alongside Wilson against a local incursion of rebels who wished to erode both Cindralith and Gotham’s borders. In that moment, the pair had found rare common ground. His father praised Wilson’s military might, confirming in Dick’s mind that the man was no mere soldier but instead a bloodthirsty beast. However, Wilson’s care for his neighbouring kingdom depleted rapidly after his oldest, Beta son, was slain in a pointless border skirmish. From that moment, the man had played fast and loose with Gotham’s stability, seeking out enemies for allies and doing his best to become not only unreliable but also unpredictable.
The latent possibility that Wilson could mobilise his army in favour of Nanda Parbat was a future which King Bruce never wished to see. Wilson knew this, using every inch of leverage possible to claw back prizes from Gotham and it seemed that he wanted a new Omega. In the King’s first letter, he had stated that he would take no other but the heir of Gotham. The leader of Cindralith had made himself indispensable and he understood this too well, manipulating and out-maneuvering his well-meaning petitioners in order to receive everything that he desired. In this way, he desired Dick and so he would receive Dick.
“It does not matter how many soldiers Nanda Parbat amasses, each traitor will taste my steel!” His other brother Jason, a twenty year old Alpha, sauntered into the courtyard as if he had arrived on time. His red tunic was skewed across his body unnaturally and sweat rolled over his forehead, sloping from his black hair to his square jaw.
The King scowled. “You are late.”
Jason’s green eyes avoided his father and instead, he approached the space beside his younger brother.
“There is food for you here, Jason,” Dick said shortly, passing the plate and its remains. Watching Jason sit down and begin to devour through the remains, Dick realised that the small amount he had portioned for himself was far too little to fill his appetite. He kept the complaint sealed between his lips, watching happily as Jason satisfied himself; as an Alpha such sustenance was crucial for his growth.
Jason spoke with a full mouth, “Thanks, Dickie.” The words were kind but teasing and Dick rolled his eyes, feeling his stomach warm at his care for Jason.
Besides Jason, Timothy scrunched up his button-like nose. “You smell awful,” he said curtly, holding a small hand to cover his face with disgust.
“That’s Alpha sweat, dearest.” Jason grinned, charisma spilling from his lips as if he were some holy orator. “I have been training with the men - the General says that my swordsmanship is some of the best he has yet to see!”
Timothy raised his eyebrows. Despite their three differing mothers, the sons of Gotham were strikingly similar. A newcomer would struggle to guess that their father had sired them on differing military campaigns. The first, on the border with Nanda Parbat, had given Bruce his golden heir, dark curls and caramel skin, destined to be a thing of beauty with the skilled mind to rule Gotham. The second, skirmishing up north against lawless barbarians, had granted the King his Alpha-son, a determined leader and fearless fighter. Lastly, fighting alongside King Kal, fate had gifted him one final pup; intelligent, caring and curious, Timothy was the completing piece to their pack.
Jason proudly held his arms behind his head. His clothes stretched across his chest and the intense smell of deep, musky Alpha exertion smothered the air. Dick held his sleeve to his nose at the extremity, wondering whether all Alpha’s stench would repulse him as such.
Looking at his father, Dick noticed a small smile gracing his lips and he immediately felt relief flood throughout him; he had not seen such an expression grace his father’s face for weeks. His happiness clearly sweetened his scent as the two Alphas all of a sudden, quietened and turned to look at Dick. Embarrassed at his lack of ability to control his scent, Dick returned his attention to the minimal food in front of him, pushing it about the plate with his fork.
“I must read you all this letter, now.”
Dick’s stomach dropped at his father’s words. For some brief, stupid, moment he had completely forgotten how their meal started. Jason stiffened across the table, looking between his father and Dick; he vocally did not support the agreement that had been reached. King Bruce slid his knife through the large and intimidating topaz seal that held the thing together; it was a big lump of wax that was marked by a wolf, staring forward with hunger. Discarding the knife he unfurled the letter and began slowly as the table sat in silence.
Your Grace,
I am most pleased that you find our agreement amicable. With the consent of your son secure and the details discussed, I wish to supply you with these next steps. At once, you must send the Prince Regent to our capital, Defiance. Once he is here, the wedding will take place. It shall be a private affair with no room for guests. In this sense, the Prince Regent’s family should be aware that they are not permitted to visit the Prince once he is a member of the royal household. He may visit Gotham after the first year of marriage, no sooner; this is for the Prince Regent’s safety. I hope you understand that once the Prince has been secured, I will mobilise my forces against Nanda Parbat as you wish. With the gods by our sides perhaps this will end the scourge of war that dominates our land.
I await the Prince’s speedy arrival.
His Royal Majesty of Cindralith
Slade Wilson
“He has to be fucking mad,” Jason growled, a noise that vibrated through the air menacingly, and it made Dick squirm uncomfortably.
The terms sent a shiver down his spine and terrified of their implications, he buried the very real threat this stranger posed to him and attempted to become ignorant. On a silly, sentimental level, Dick had wished for his family to be present when he was wed, he had wished for them to visit his new home. But deep underneath those wants, his heart demanded that he do all that was possible to prevent his father and Jason being driven into a long battle. Therefore, the terms listed may as well have been meaningless; defiant, Dick would not be deterred.
A small sniffle cut through the silence and Dick looked up to see Timothy holding back tears. “We will not be able to visit?” he asked his father, blue eyes spilling silvery lines of sadness over his cheeks.
The King looked to his empty plate, his handsome brow creased by a hundred troubled lines.
“Well?” Jason was frustrated by his father’s silence, his scent growing angrier and angrier. “You must write him back and say these are unacceptable terms! How are we meant to trust Wilson if we cannot even attend the wedding? It is all a trick that you are falling for!”
“I do not know,” Dick said quietly, running a thumb over his chin. “I will be able to write you at least!” He was doing his best to accept his fate with little pain.
Jason could not fathom his older brother’s compliancy. “Dick, have you gone mad?” His green eyes were lit up like a bright fire.
Their King answered for Dick, his thick eyebrows knitted together in a firm look. “Jason, we have been over this. Dick has consented to this agreement.”
“I do not believe that his decision is of sound mind,” Jason contended, his voice thick with disbelief. “He feels the pressure of this war and believes that he can bear it alone.”
His father’s scent was growing peppery and wet with shame and annoyance. “He has assured me that this agreement is fine.”
“He only agrees because he wishes to pleas-”
“I am sat right here!” Dick shouted, exasperated by the arguing and the way their nasty scents were making his nose twitch. “Jason,” he looked at his closest brother who seemed still like a turbulent pup, “I want to do this for our pack. It is my decision.” The words were laced with calm reassurance and Dick flicked his eyes over Timothy who nodded defeatedly, wiping his tears away.
“It is the wrong decision.”
“It is my decision to make.”
“What happens when he tries to mate you, brother?”
“There are worse things to happen, Jason!” Dick shouted back, his famous temper flaring to life within him. He had not even realised he had risen from his seat, but he was stood up, staring at his brother with painful desperation. “It is natural for an Omega to be mated. In fact, many wish for such a fate. It may not be conventional for our kingdom but Omegas across our world are mated to those who perhaps, they do not know or they do not love. This marriage is not new or novel. In fact, it is most likely the way that all Omegas go through life.”
The air was spiced by bitter brown sugar and, feeling that standing was far too dramatic, Dick sat himself back down and smoothed out his crinkled blouse. Across the table, his younger sibling remained silent. Jason was visibly upset, chewing on his tongue in an attempt to stop himself from hurting his brother further. The King, sat to Dick’s left, seemed detached but accepting, observing Dick with a strange sort of pride in his son’s selflessness.
“I just thought if anyone deserved love, it would have been you,” Jason said softly, tipping his head ever so slightly to the side in a show of submission. It was the sort of move that made Dick want to dive into his strong neck for a scenting
“I would rather take a bite to my neck, than you take a sword to your heart. That is our reality. My marriage to Wilson will bind our kingdoms and ensure that Nanda Parbat is removed from our lives forever. It is the best choice to be made. Without this marriage, every pup and adult will be pulled closer to death’s grip; this is not a risk I will take.”
The King nodded gently, staring at Dick wistfully. “Your sacrifice will be felt by every subject, dearest son.”
“I hope so,” Dick affirmed, linking his fingers together on the table. “He wants me to arrive as soon as possible. Perhaps, I should leave at the next sunset.”
“Already!?” Both Jason and Timothy said, looking at each other with shock and horror.
Dick nodded stiffly. “The longer I stay, the harder it is to leave. And the sooner I go, the sooner I can come back and see you all.”
The next morning with the help of his brothers and his governess, Dick began to pack all of his things away into a series of large wooden trunks. In reality, only Timothy was helping him and Jason was stood in the doorway, glowering angrily.
“What if he makes you worship some savage gods?” His questions had been listless and Dick was growing tired as he continued to fold up his bedclothes into neat squares.
Timothy was tidying Dick’s jewellery, placing it into small hide-lined boxes. “It is highly likely that such a thing may happen,” He stated, admiring a large blue jewel encrusted in gold that had been gifted to Dick on his eighteenth nameday.
“May I remind you, Jason, that barbarian blood runs through your body.” Dick huffed, standing up and placing his bedclothes down into a trunk.
Jason shot Dick an evil glare, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. Dick closed the trunk with a soft snap and fastened its buckle. “Will you lift this to the hall for me?” he appealed to Jason’s Alpha prowess, tipping his neck to the side purposefully.
Jason buckled immediately but instead of approaching the case, he strode towards Dick. Silently, in an uncharacteristic show of pup-like love, he held Dick’s slim shoulders and pressed his nose to the column of Dick’s neck, inhaling deeply. Smiling, Dick stretched out his neck allowing Jason as much room as wanted and felt relaxation wash over him as Jason’s unsettled scent calmed into its usual fern and amber tones. As he pulled back, Jason’s pupils had turned to gooey pools of tar and he shook his head, brushing off the scent-drunkness that crept over his senses.
“This one?” he pointed to the case meekly, avoiding Dick’s contented smile.
Dick placed his hands on his hips, enjoying the way his brother had been reduced to a pup from a little Omega scent. “Yes,” he quipped and behind him Timothy laughed quietly.
Timothy sidled up to Dick, passing him the jewellery boxes. “Here.” They watched as Jason lifted the box with ease and left the room. “When you are gone I fear he will be distraught.”
“He is better distraught than dead.”
They stood in silence for a beat, Dick’s governess buckled up another chest, pushing it out of the room.
“Dick?” Timothy's voice was quiet as if he did not want any other to hear. “What if I present when you are forbidden to see us?”
Ah, he had noticed the changes in his scent as well. “Well,” Dick pondered the question, holding his hands clasped at his stomach. “You must write to me about it and perhaps, if my new husband is satisfied with me, I will be able to see you early.” A desperate part of Dick wanted to believe his own words but his stomach panged with guilt. “And, Jason will be here of course.”
Timothy seemed satisfied by the answer, nodding contentedly. His governess, an older Omega, who had cared for Dick since his presentation ignored their quiet contemplation and cleared her throat, “It is time to visit the chapel, Prince Richard.”
Dick stiffened, shaking the fluffy feelings of comfort off of him. “Yes, of course.” He turned to Timothy and kissed his forehead, “I will see you later. Just throw everything remaining in one case - it will have to do.”
During his walk to the chapel, Dick felt particularly melancholic. Each step he took, echoed with the memories of a well-loved puphood that would soon be stolen from him. Through a large window, he could see the brilliant sun burning through a thick layer of cloud. The image gave him a little hope and he relaxed his shoulders, brushing his hair back behind his ears. Despite his new direction, the castle would always be a safe haven calling for his return. After a year, or perhaps even earlier, he would be able to return home and relive all the memories that drifted through the castle walls. That seemed satisfactory and it quelled Dick’s anxiety, slowing his racing blood. He fanned his face to relieve his nervous flush, arriving at the chapel entrance in quick time.
Before entering through the holy door, Dick adjusted the neck and cuffs of his white undershirt making certain that the white linen shirt covered his glands. He bowed his head as he pushed the door open, inhaling the warming smell of incense and rosemary. Although, he personally did not enter the chapel on his own volition, it had always been a calming sort of space.
“Your Highness,” an Omega woman in shrouded robes, tipped her head to Dick immediately on his entry; it took all of his energy not to jump.
“Sister.” Dick smiled, allowing the door behind him to close. The room was dimly lit with yellow-orange candles and the stone floor, usually covered with expensive rugs for comfort, was bare. He rolled his shoulders, shaking off the chill that dared to embrace him. “I am here to see the Abbess.”
In most noble homes, before an Omega was married they would receive their final teachings from their mothers. As Dick was a motherless bastard, although Dick did wonder almost every day where his mother was, his governess had arranged for him to speak with the Abbess instead. Dick thought the whole thing a waste of his precious time but, quietly nervous and unsure about what his marriage would actually look like, he knew that the Abbess’ lessons would be invaluable.
He did not believe in the Virgin but, driven by respect and care for the clergywomen, he bowed to her gilded statue, holding his gaze to the stony floor in virtuous submission. The young and scentless Omega led him through the quiet chapel quarters and Dick felt the eyes of those within the cloisters staring him down. Knowing that the decision would be widely unpopular among the citizenry, the King had yet to publicly announce that his son was to be married, hence why Dick’s coach was leaving in the dead evening. Dick wondered whether they knew or whether they were imagining something even more scandalous. The clergy had historically been sceptical of the King’s bastards, Dick was sure they would have preferred to have seen their leader mated before the Virgin. His father’s determination to sire bastards had been too much to contend; Dick felt himself smile a little at that thought.
“We are here.” The young woman cupped her hands together in front of her chest, “May the Virgin guide you.” She praised before ushering him into the room.
“Ah, Prince Richard.” The Abbess, an older woman who wore a delicate headscarf and a heavy golden charm around her neck, welcomed him in. She had a kind smile and aged face, wrinkles formed around the corners of her eyes and mouth; Dick could not remember the last time he had even acknowledged the woman. Despite his unease, Dick steadied his breath and sat in an old-looking wooden chair the Abbess offered.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” Dick said softly, trying to rid the shakiness from his voice. The young woman was still standing behind him and he looked at her sceptically.
“That will be all, sister.” The Abbess said shortly, dismissing the woman and allowing Dick to relax slightly. He held his hands in his lap politely, “There is no need to be so nervous, my dear.” The Abbess sat down in a chair opposite to Dick, her long flowing robes made her shapeless and solid, obscuring any identifiable features to her person. “I have been informed of your predicament.”
Dick looked at the woman through his eyelashes, feeling childlike embarrassment and shame cross his cheeks. “
So,” she swallowed slowly, pursing her lips. “I will try and make this as painless as possible for the both of us. What do you know of marriage, Prince Richard?”
Dick felt his chest tighten, he fixed his eyes to his fidgeting hands, “I know that during my wedding I will be mated. That is through the act of the Alpha biting my mating gland.” The amorphous patch of skin almost throbbed at Dick’s words and he blushed even further; it was all so humiliating.
“It is not an embarrassing act, my dear. All is as the Virgin designed.” Dick held back the natural urge to roll his eyes.
“You are correct on the mating bite, of course. What about after the mating bite?”
“After?” Dick asked, furrowing his eyebrows as heat creeped across him. “Well, um-” he coughed, clearing his throat, “The marriage is consummated and then I may have a pup.”
The Abbess seemed to be assessing his answer and she leaned back in her chair, fingers brushing against her gold amulet. Dick felt as if he had given an incorrect response, and he squirmed in his seat, waiting patiently for the correction her expression was implying.
“Once you have been bitten your body will begin to change again.”
“Again?” Dick asked quietly, leaning forward in his seat. It had been bad enough to change his wardrobe once, to do it again would be a total inconvenience.
“A month or two after the mating, your body will prepare itself for pups - this will be an uncomfortable period but once undertaken will only recur every quarter of a year.”
“Recur?” Dick felt outraged. He thought he knew everything about being an Omega and yet things were still being revealed to him. “How long will this pattern persist?”
“Until you are around my age, dear one.” Dick did his best to not let his jaw fall to the floor, instead, hugging his torso tightly for comfort.
“How uncomfortable will it be?” he asked after a beat of silence.
The Abbess’s eyes twinkled as if she was hiding something further, “With the company of your mate, the period will pass with ease, and when the Virgin blesses you with pups you skip the change all together.”
Upon hearing this, Dick’s mind began to calm once more and he slowly reasoned with himself. A short period of discomfort once every quarter was little to worry about. All the Omegas he had met had never expressed any sort of long term discomfort or frustration. Perhaps, he had no reason to panic at all and the issue would be of little concern once he was mated.
The Abbess hummed to herself quietly. “And consummation, my dearest. What do you know about that?”
Dick chewed the inside of his cheek, “It is when I lay with my husband. It is the act of bringing forth pups.”
“Exactly,” The Abbess nodded, satisfied with Dick’s level of knowledge.
“Will it be painful?” The question left his lips without his knowing.
She tilted her head, clearly pondering his words. “The mating claim should not hurt as long as you relax and accept it with your whole being. However, consummation will be painful and that is as the Virgin wills it. It is not a frivolous act but a sacred performance before her grace.”
Dick considered what she said and felt confused. The noble Omegas he had met were often faithless and yet, they seemed to have no issue in carrying pups. In fact, it seemed that they rather enjoyed the process. He wondered whether the Abbess was actually correct in her preaching but pushed the thought down into the pit of his stomach, nodding demurely in hope that she would allow him to leave the chapel and return to packing. The Abbess, content that she had performed her duty to the first Prince of Gotham, stood up and gestured the symbols of the Virgin above his sitting form, before ushering him out of the dusky chapel and back to the fresh spring light of the interior castle.
Dick spent the rest of his day pondering the lessons he had received. Sat at his last pack meal, he leant his chin on his hand and rubbed the grained wood table with his fingertip. Across from him, Jason and Timothy ate quietly, watching Dick with hawk-like interest.
“Father,” Dick finally built the courage to voice his curiosity.
“Mmmm?” The King hummed, placing his fork down. In the dusky light, the lines on his face had lessened and his eyes, so recently clouded with shame, were bright and icy. It seemed as if he had finally conquered his mental torment and allowed Dick’s judgement to steer his mind.
Swallowing his embarrassment Dick aired his burgeoning question, “When one”—he coughed awkwardly—“consummates their marriage is it painful?” Dick felt his question ring about the courtyard as if to punish him for his garishness. “I only ask because I have no mother and do not believe that the Abbess was telling me the full truth. She quite clearly stated that the Virgin wills consummation to be painful and yet, I simply cannot believe that statement.”
Across from Dick, his two brothers were equally intrigued, looking to their father with a desperate want for an answer to a question they had never even considered before. Leaning back in his chair, the light caught on the silver of their father’s tunic and he scratched his jaw contemplatively.
He allowed the silence to mill around the airy courtyard before taking a deep breath. “From my experience of the act it has never been painful but I cannot tell you how an Omega may feel in such a sort of scenario.”
Heat flushed through Dick at the stony answer and he nodded to himself, confirming his deep belief that the Abbess’s theories were misleading. He returned to his plate, before throwing his knife and fork down once more. Blinking back sadness he puffed out his chest and said “I will miss you all dearly you must know. But as soon as I may write to you, I will.”
“I will miss you the most.” Timothy sighed, pursing his lips. “I cannot eat anymore - I will be ill.” He crossed his arms over his chest, turning away from the plate with disdain.
“Brother,” Jason leaned forward, his scent of fern and amber flaring possessively. “You must tell us if anything goes astray. If he wrongs you, you must tell us. You promise?”
“I promise!” Dick was almost laughing from Jason’s earnestness.
“No, but you must take me ser-”
“Jason,” The King laid a steady hand across Jason’s wrists, calming the turbulent air. “We must trust Dick in his decision. Tell me, when has he led us down a dangerous path?”
“Never,” Jason mumbled avoidantly, unwilling to submit.
“Then why should he now?” The King smiled reassuringly and Dick swore that he was glowing with pride. The words of affirmation rushed through him with unworldly confidence; the way was clear and as the spring breeze rushed through his hair, he was certain in his choice.
Just before the glowing lunar orb reached a peak in the sky, the group of four took the slow march down to the castle’s entrance. The air had turned cold and the King had placed a hefty, deep-blue cloak around Dick’s shoulders to ward off the frigid chill. Jason and Timothy stood in silence, watching with continued disbelief as Dick addressed the soldiers who would be ensuring his safe travel. One, a young man only Jason’s age, seemed overwhelmed with pride at his responsibilities and the other, an older man, remained tight-lipped in professionalism.
Dick looked over his shoulder at his brothers before beckoning the pair forward. “It is goodbye now.”
Jason grasped Dick as tightly as he possibly could, squeezing the air from his body, and Timothy, who managed to squeeze between Jason and Dick, nuzzled his tired face into Dick’s shoulder. Inhaling purposefully, Dick tried his best to memorise the way their three scents lazily intertwined to create the smell of home. He hoped it would always cling to his nostrils, and closing his eyes, he allowed his head to rest in the crook of Jason’s neck. Opening his eyes, Dick felt a fresh spill of tears wet his cheek and he cursed himself vehemently. From within the mass of bodies, Dick could see his father, watching stoically.
Fearing he would never hold them again but resolute in his stubbornness, Dick pulled back and wiped his face. “Go back to bed now,” he commanded them.
For a brief moment, Jason’s grief-filled expression twisted and it looked as if he were about to mount one final offensive.
“Come now. It is cold,” Timothy said quietly, smiling wryly at Dick as he took his older brother’s hand and led him back up the stairs into the castle.
That left Dick and his father, the King, standing alone in the darkness. Dick could not quite work out his father’s feelings and he thought it for the best. Feeling the absence of his usual silly pride, Dick walked forward slowly and allowed his father to embrace him in his strong arms. The King’s clean woody scent was overwhelming and Dick felt his body almost turn boneless as the waves of Alpha smell washed over him. Tucked against his father’s chest he felt as small as a pup once more. A hand rustled his curly hair gently, allowing Dick to pull back so his father could take him in for one final time.
“You are and will always be my crowning achievement, Dick. My beautiful son. My delight .” Placing his large hands over Dick’s cheeks, he leant forward and placed the most gentle kiss between Dick’s eyebrows. Emotion was surging within Dick and he screwed up his hands in order to cause some painful distraction from the way his soul was tearing apart.
“Know that I trust you indefinitely.” His father said the words clearly, squeezing Dick’s shoulder. “Now, go. Before I find it too heavy a burden to bear.”
As his father’s hand finally let go, Dick nodded, spinning on his heels and striding quickly to the coach. The young soldier helped him inside as Dick swallowed down the sobs that were aching to slip from his lips. He dared not to look out the coach’s window as the horses were spurred into action and yet he snuck a singular look, seeing the dark silhouette of his beloved father hurrying back indoors. The coach rattled against the cobbles and finally, allowing a deeply innate cry to escape his lips, Dick threw his head back against his wooden seat in disbelief. He cupped his face in his hands, allowing the tears to flow freely from him, in both fear and grief for what was lost and what was to come. Once the coach had finally reached the bottom of the hill, riding out into the deep fields and forests of eastern Gotham, Dick centred his breath and forced his tears to stop, knowing that there was little more to be done and that his life had changed forever.