A Patient Love 14

[kokoro2]

Title: A Patient Love
Pairing: UKUS
Rating: T
Warnings: Omegaverse, age-gap, Mpreg, and slight historical inaccuracies.
Summary: Prince Arthur has finally been granted a male Omega by his brother, the king. Alfred is soon to learn the treacherous ways of royalty and that adulthood in this world is not at all kind.



Apologetic Steps

Alfred came to Arthur's quarters later that night. He slipped into his bed and waited for his mate to come. Their terse and quick confrontation from earlier that day had left a gaping hole in Alfred's chest. He didn't want this to continue. He'd been alienated long enough, and after having finally making amends with his daughter, he aimed to do the same with his mate. There was too much of a gap between them

It wasn't long before Arthur came, but he didn't look surprised or excited to see his Omega waiting for him. He undressed and climbed into bed, but said nothing and made no move to be close to Alfred. Alfred watched him warily, and then looked down to his lap.

"I'm… I'm sorry."

It was Arthur.

"I'm sorry. I brought you home, and yet I haven't seen you. You have…every right to have been suspicious of me. I admit I have not been the most…gentle towards my nephew. But… he is the King, and I must show him all due respect."

Alfred sighed, not realizing he had stopped breathing so as to hear every word Arthur said. He turned and put a tender hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I apologize too… I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. You're…you're my mate… I… I love you."

Arthur tensed under Alfred's hand, and his eyes focused on something across the room. In the low candlelight of the room Alfred could see the change that came over his Alpha. But he said nothing. He did not return the affections.

"But…you don't love me…" Alfred removed his hand.

Arthur put his hand on Alfred's that now rested on the bed. "I care for you. But… Alphas don't know how to love. We were never taught."

"It's not something you learn," Alfred said with a soft breathy laugh. Arthur squeezed his hand. "You just feel it."

"That is why Omegas are here. You are here to hold that love that we do not understand."

Alfred smiled sadly. "You don't understand?"

"No," Arthur replied sadly. He looked at Alfred now with bright green eyes. They flickered down to Alfred's bare form.

The Omega shifted slightly at the quick attention, feeling warmth spread to his loins. That kind of excitement hadn't come to him since his heat; a heat that wasn't much of a heat at all. Remembering the lack of affection Arthur bestowed on him their last time they had been intimate nearly quenched the desire that had flared up.

Alfred looked away sadly. Arthur moved in to kiss his neck, causing Alfred to inhale sharply. He closed his eyes and hummed. Arthur moved to nip at Alfred's ear. His breath was hot, panting shallowly against Alfred's sensitive skin. Alfred gripped at the bed linen and it his lower lip.

"My Omega," Arthur whispered. He was licking up Alfred's neck. "I may not know what love is… but I assure you…"

Alfred felt himself being laid down on the bed by Arthur who was then over him, on top of him, pressing into him with his hard and hot need. He smiled almost like a feral cat. When he leaned down, Alfred couldn't breathe. He watched with wide blue eyes, amazed at the quick turn of events from the day.

"I do know that you mean so much to me…," Arthur whispered against Alfred's lips.

Alfred whimpered in desire, slipping his eyes closed, and then spread his legs with a relieved smile.

Alfred took to following Arthur around the palace, much like he had when he was a younger Omega. It had been too long since that had occurred, and Arthur seemed to welcome it happily. He entertained his Omega and spoke to him with all the tenderness that had been missing for far too long. From this, Alfred blossomed and life at court seemed it was finally at peace.

Arthur ran a hand through Alfred's hair. He lay on his side, watching as Alfred watched him. The candlelight behind him illuminated Alfred's blue eyes. He was beautiful.

"I didn't realize I had missed this until…" He sighed, and Alfred smiled. Arthur closed his eyes. "Say it again…"

Alfred chuckled. "I love you…"

Arthur smiled and touched Alfred. Then, he sat up. "Let's go home."

"Home?" Alfred asked, fearful that what Arthur said didn't mean what Alfred wanted. "You mean…?"

Arthur smiled looking down at Alfred with fondness. "To Sussex. Let's spend the rest of fall there and not come back to London until Christmastide."

"You mean it?!" Alfred nearly leapt up in joy. He wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck and hugged him until they fell back into bed laughing. "Oh Arthur! You truly are the best mate!"

"I just want to make it up to you. I don't like seeing my mate thinking poorly of me." Arthur kissed Alfred's nose. "Nor do I like to see him so upset."

"Just…don't hide me away again."

"I won't."Sussex was still warm, but the winds would blow hard at intervals to remind everyone that winter was close at hand. Nevertheless, Alfred revealed in being back at his beloved manor. He shinned, running with his children in their expansive garden, chasing them playfully through the mazes. Arthur would tend to politics in the morning to ensure the kingdom continued to run, and by the afternoon he was all Alfred's. They sat in the nursery with their children, only to escape outside to be alone sometime before supper.

It came to an abrupt end when a messenger rode up to their manor. He had come straight from London with a letter that he was under direct orders from the King and the Queen Mother to come to London.

Arthur glanced at Alfred who wilted at the idea of leaving their home once again. "Why am I to leave?"

The messenger pulled out another letter. This one was tattered. It had a different seal; the seal of his sister, the Princess of Ireland.

Arthur rose suddenly, a look of dread washing over his face as he snatched at the letter. He broke the seal and read it quickly. Alfred watched cautiously, fearful of what it would say. Was it something about Princess Halle? Was it troubling news? Was she in ill health or had something befallen her kingdom or her mate?

After a time, Arthur lowered the parchment. He looked down at their fresh meat and sighed. "We must toss this food to the dogs. My sister, the Princess of Ireland, is dead."

Those in the room began to murmur against themselves as many lowered their head and crossed themselves in respect for the sudden passing. Alfred hadn't been close to the princess, but he felt a heavy weight drop onto him in remorse for Arthur losing another sibling.

Arthur fell down into his seat with a heavy sigh, looking distantly at the opposite side of the hall. The servants were clearing their plates, but Arthur ignored them. Alfred put a hand on his. Arthur ignored him.

It took two days to reach London, and what a miserable trip it had been. The weather turned suddenly, plunging the concourse into winter with bitter winds and freezing wind. The roads were quickly turning to mud. Alfred thought all of England was mourning the loss of their princess. It certainly seemed more upset than when Scott had passed.

The family and servants had all donned black. Arthur demanded that they show respect to his sister. Alfred was surprised by his mate's reaction to Halle's passing. He was much more distraught by this sudden turn of events than when his brother died. Alfred wondered if it was because Arthur had been thrust into his new position of power so quickly and was more focused on taking the throne back then. Or maybe it was because Halle had been closer to age than Arthur and they had been closer when they were younger. But whenever Arthur talked of his childhood, he made it sound so lonely.

Arthur wasn't popular with his siblings when they grew up. He was shunned and ignored and constantly teased even by his brother Rhye, who tried to join Scott on his expeditions to torment Arthur. He never went into much detail about his father, and Alfred got the impression that even Arthur's father was cold to his youngest son. However, there had been one shinning person in Arthur's life that made him smile fondly and wax nostalgia at even the slightest memory of her.

"Mother," Arthur would say tenderly. "She always understood. She fought for me to be named Prince of England when it already belonged to Scott."

"It was once Scott's?" Alfred had asked. He was tending to one of Rose's dresses that had been torn at the cuff. She was becoming rowdy with her sister.

Arthur had sat near him, reading. The book had spurned a memory of his late mother. "Yes. To be Prince of England is to be the heir. Scott originally held it, and I was Prince of Scotland, meaning the second heir. But once Scott became king, the title was to pass to me. Scott only agreed after my mother conceded that I would forfeit Scotland to Scott so that Scott owned all of England and Scotland."

"So… you being the Prince of England means you don't actually rule any bit of England, does it?"

Arthur had smiled sadly over at him. "Can you blame me for wishing for the throne? All of my power has just dangled before me in a tease with an empty title and an even emptier feeling of fulfillment in my life."

Alfred didn't know what it felt like to have power. An Omega was never told that they were powerful or important or that they were even necessary, unless it was to birth children. Even nurturing them was oftentimes passed over to the nurse Omegas and eventually the tutors. More often than not, Alfred felt weak even to his daughters, unable to tell them no as they would stomp and cry and beg for everything, and their Omega nurses would give in before Alfred could protest.

Did he want power, though? Power kept Arthur up at night; it kept Arthur from Alfred's bed. Power controlled Arthur, turning him, altering his view on those around him until he snapped at them with bared fangs and hackles raised. Power seeped into his veins until he was cold and nasty.

Alfred would never have power. And for that, Arthur thawed when around him. He knew Alfred wouldn't have to fight for anything with Arthur because the Omega wouldn't protest. He had no reason to.

The days of being kept out of sight at Dorset were long behind him. Alfred hardly recalled those memories, choosing to bide his time thinking about other things instead.

"Are we there yet?" Amelia whined. She rode in the litter with her sister and mother. After looking out the window for an hour, she flopped back against the wood with a dramatic sigh.

Alfred smiled. "Almost. I can hear the bells ringing."

"They're always ringing," Amelia sighed again, louder this time. "The Ringing Island."

They arrived in London after another hour, and Arthur wasted little time rushing inside. Franҫoise had requested to see Arthur privately. Arthur feared what it could mean. He noticed that Prince Rhye had yet to arrive. Did he get his message later than Arthur?

The young King Charles was missing as well. Alfred hardly saw the king when he was in London. The boy was sick far too often, and his mother grew fearful of him being out of bed for too long. Alfred didn't want to question Franҫoise's mothering, but he felt it wrong to keep a child inside. They should be out, enjoying the sunshine and playing in the gardens. Alfred even wondered if Charles was close to his other siblings. Some of them were full grown and already mated off to Alphas around the kingdom to help keep loyalty to the crown.

More siblings that were estranged from each other. Alfred would not let that happen with his family.
Arthur came to Alfred's bed that night. He hadn't seen him at dinner, and worried something else had gone horribly wrong. Then again, he reasoned, maybe it was just about the arrangement for Halle and her now mate-less Alpha.

Alfred sat up in bed when Arthur came in. His Alpha strode right to the window and looked out it. The bright moonlight bounced off of his pale skin. Even from his bed, Alfred could see the dark lines underneath Alfred's eyes. Gone was the light that sparkled in his eyes from their short-lived vacation.

"I don't want to stay here…," Arthur whispered. Alfred's heart leapt in his chest. "I want to go…somewhere else…"

"Where?" Alfred asked, his voice equally as quiet. Inwardly, he prayed they'd go back to Sussex and leave all of this mess behind.

Arthur turned to regard him, and then smiled. His shoulders dropped. He came over and climbed into bed beside Alfred. After a few quick kisses, he pushed Alfred onto his back and straddled him. Only Arthur's clothes were between them. Alfred practically purred with want as Arthur paid him attention with his hands and mouth.

"We should…go on a campaign," Arthur murmured against Arthur's stomach. He paid special attention to Alfred's naval. "I can't wait until you're pregnant again…"

"Arthur, we can't go on a campaign. We're not King and Queen."

Arthur licked at Alfred's nipple, and then sat up. He looked down at Alfred and cupped his face in his hand. "No, but if we take the King with us, then we can enjoy traveling."

"I-is the King healthy enough?" Alfred shivered when Arthur rubbed his palm across Alfred's penis. "Would his mother allow it? A-and what about our daughters?"

"The King needs to be seen by his people, not our daughters. Franҫoise, much as I despise her, is not stupid. She will know that it is a smart move." Arthur began to undress himself. "And our daughters will stay here. I do not wish for them to get sick. Now, hush of these talks. Only moan for me."

Alfred did so as he felt Arthur push his fingers up inside of him. He never once thought about why it was okay to take a child that was prone to sickness travelling in the middle of winter, but not their daughters who were perfectly healthy.

The campaign was a huge success. The people came out in droves to see their young little king who brought about the promise of so much hope for England. And, as a double treat, they got to see the Lord Protector and his Omega. Alfred was surprised by how many people bowed to him in respect and the admiring looks Alphas and Omegas gave him. Many commented on Alfred's looks, praising him for his fertile accomplishment, and even kissed his hand in fealty.

Alfred chatted about it eagerly at night before bed. He paced the room with wide eyes and nearly jumped up and down on his bed like a child. Only Arthur had ever shown affection for him like that before.

"I mean, I think I even saw an Omega cry when they saw me! I haven't even done anything! They just love me! It's amazing!" Alfred turned with a wide smile, nearly panting from having repeatedly crossed from one side of the room to the other in such a short amount of time.

Arthur was watching with a strange look to his eyes and a long smile across his face. He licked his lips quickly. "Well, I wasn't lying when I say you're beautiful. It's about time you believed me."

"I believe you, it's just strange to have others think it too!"

"Why?" Arthur stood up to take off his boots. "You are quite a prize, Alfred."

Alfred laughed loudly. He hadn't since before Arthur left for the war. Arthur stopped to watch him. Alfred's mouth was wide open and he held his sides. It was extremely unbecoming of an Omega as Omegas were told to be quiet and laugh softly and hide their smile behind a hand. Their joy should remain a secret.

And yet, Arthur was drawn to Alfred the longer he laughed. The Omega was oblivious, and he started talking animatedly again. Arthur was down to just his undershirt. He strode up to Alfred and kissed him silent. Then he made sure to bend him over the bed and make him scream with pleasure.

"I love you," Alfred whispered when it was just them.

"I love you," Alfred cried when he climaxed.

"I love you," Alfred said under his breath when they broke fast in the morning and no one paid them any mind.

Arthur smiled every time, and he would caress some part of Alfred whenever he heard Alfred's affections; he'd touch his face, his hand, his stomach, his shoulder, the top of his head. Alfred liked being touched, and he hated when he and his Alpha were apart for any length of time. That meant less touching and less warmth pressing against his side and less glimpses of Arthur looking away after having been caught staring.

Their distance seemed so long ago, that when Arthur sent Alfred home to prepare for Christmastide, Alfred was shocked by the loneliness that engulfed him. Arthur assured him he would be back soon, but he worried that the further north they went, the worse the weather would become.

"Normally, one wouldn't campaign in the dead of winter," Arthur commented. "But I needed to get away. And… I have to go north."

"What's up north?"

"Scotland," Arthur said quickly. "You will go home to be with the girls, and I will take the King to Scotland. There are revolts up there. The King's presence should quell them. I will try to be back for Christmas."

Despite his dislike of London, Alfred was happy to be home. He enjoyed seeing new places, but could do without the actual traveling. He was tired and dirty, and wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed with Arthur. He would have to be without Arthur, and instead slept with eagerness to see his daughters instead.
Christmas came without Arthur and the King as they were still up north staying with relatives; Arthur's aunt was a generous host and welcomed her nephew and her great nephew for the season. Franҫoise said that the trip home was too dangerous with the weather conditions.

"You're not worried about your son?" Alfred asked as they dined privately in Franҫoise's chambers a few days before Christmas.

"Should I be?" Franҫoise asked as she popped a sweet meat into her mouth. "Is your mate not a good guardian of the King?"

"No, no! That's not it! It's just… My Lord the King gets sick often, doesn't he?"

Franҫoise nodded absentmindedly. "I think he will be fine, though. This is good for him. He needs to assert himself as the King of this kingdom. The English, they are not a smart lot."

Alfred's hackles rose at her offense. Franҫoise saw him and laughed him off. "Oh come now. These people will make an enemy out of anyone if they hear a malicious story of them, and then turn them into a martyr if the tide suddenly changes. If things don't work in their favor, they want to hang the Alpha or Omega up by their genitals."

Alfred flushed at Franҫoise's vulgar words. She was always bold in her choice of words, and everyone always knew her opinion shortly after starting a conversation with her. She no longer cared for society's view on her; it had never been good, even after fulfilling her duty and giving England its long sought after heir and King of England. To the English, she was French and an Omega and she had done too much damage by prolonging the arrival of Charles. They were glad she was now someone to be hidden behind the curtain and ignore.

"Be wary, young one," Franҫoise said with a low voice. Alfred was a little chilled by her sudden change in demeanor. "If they see fit to find fault in you, they will. Even those that have such affection for you, you cannot believe the love and gratitude they show you."

Alfred instantly thought back to the campaign. He couldn't imagine those bright faces glaring at him instead of smiling. They were so genuine. Alfred had a hard time thinking anyone could hate him.

"What could I do to possibly make them hate me…?"

Franҫoise shrugged. She was bored of this conversation and changed the topic.

Alfred couldn't stop thinking about it long into the night.

Arthur came home just before Alfred's heat started. He sent gifts from Scotland to Alfred while the Omega prepared his room. It was touching that his mate had thought of him even while out on the campaign. The presents included new clothes that were popular in Scotland, books about astronomy, and new furs for his bed. The furs were promptly placed on the bed and would be there during Alfred's heat.

At the bottom of the trunk of gifts Arthur had sent Alfred's way was a cross with an elaborate golden knot design to it. Alfred had never seen such a thing before, but was grateful nonetheless. He placed it by his bedside, and settled in to eat and drink until he felt bloated and sleepy. Soon, Arthur would be here and inside him and everywhere on him.

Franҫoise always came to wish Alfred a good heat two days before the day arrived. It had become a nice tradition, and Alfred thought it kind that she'd come to him. She brought wine from her cellar and gave Alfred a change of conversation. His servants often only talked of mundane things.

"What's that?" Franҫoise asked, pointing at the cross by Alfred's bed.

Alfred smiled over at it fondly. "Isn't it pretty? Arthur got it for me when he went to Scotland."

Franҫoise was oddly quiet as she stared at the cross. She stood suddenly and took the cross. Alfred sat up quickly, alarmed by her abrupt anger. She glared ferociously at the cross.

"He went to Ireland," Franҫoise growled.

"Ireland?" Alfred tilted his head. "He didn't tell me he was going to Ireland."

"He didn't tell me either."

"Why would he go there? He and the King have no need… do they?"

"He didn't take my son. He went himself."

Alfred's head swirled with the information as he tried to make sense of it all, but it only served to confuse him. What was so wrong about Ireland? "Why would he do that? And why wouldn't he take the King?"

Franҫoise took a moment to breathe, calming herself. She squeezed the cross once, and then sat down beside Alfred. Her Queenly manner returned to her. "My son, the King, has no business in Ireland…yet. Matters there are complicated with Princess Halle's death. Envoys were sent there to ensure peace would remain until everything was dealt with…"

"I still don't understand. What was Arthur doing there?"

"You stupid boy…" Alfred winced. "Arthur didn't want to go on this campaign for my son. He went for himself, and for you. And then he stole away to Ireland, leaving my son in the hands of his stupid aunt, while he trotted off to Ireland to make deals behind the King's back to ensure loyalty to him and not my son!"

Alfred's mouth opened, but he found he couldn't say something. He forced himself not to understand, not when his heat was so close. His heat was sacred, the time when he and Arthur were truly alone and he knew that his mate was vulnerable and kind and gentle. He wasn't scheming, he wasn't conjuring up treasonous plots, and he certainly wasn't hiding anything from his Omega.
Hoshiko2's cents: The English said "fall" before they said "autumn". It was a leftover word that stayed in America, but died in England. Kind of like how soccer was first used by the English, was then rubbed off on the Americans, and then the English called it football like the rest of Europe. Just sayin'.