Hello guys, long time, no see. This takes place 3 or four years after the wounded knight ended, and Julius is all grown up. This is going to be a lot shorter, about 9 chapters total.

He scrunched up his nose as he listened to the other king speak. It was a little difficult to understand every word because the man across from him had a very deep Russian accent, and because English wasn't his first language, his sentences were hardly grammatically correct. Of course, Alfred was just being knit-picky; he hated king Ivan Braginski with all of his might, and he couldn't wait for this stupid meeting to be over. Arthur, his queen, must have felt the alpha's annoyance because suddenly he placed a soft hand to his knee.

"Patience," the Briton whispered to him. "This meeting is about generational peace, not about your petty feelings." Alfred heeded his warning, a little upset that, once again, his queen was right. After a heated skirmish two years ago, over of hundred American and Russian soldiers were left dead. The whole event weighed on Alfred heavily because as king he found himself personally responsible for every life taken, and he figured it was his duty to his people never to allow anything like that from happening again. Which was why Alfred had Chancy right a letter to the Russians, a proposition of potential peace, a letter that was met with a surprisingly warm reply from Queen Gilbert. After a few more written exchanges, the two agreed to discuss future relations after the world meeting held in Virginia. Now the time has come, all of the other royals already retired to their rooms, and almost all of Alfred's fake hospitality was fading.

"It was a bit of a surprise to us that you sent a letter after your defeat," Ivan said coldly, gazing at Alfred with almost amused eyes. Alfred barred his teeth.

"If anything, my soldiers won," Alfred responded snappily. Arthur squeezed his knee from underneath the table in warning. Alfred groaned in annoyance. "But either way, we both lost a considerable amount of lives, and it would be better for everyone involved that we extend diplomacy to each other." The American was trying to be the bigger person, but a part of him wanted Ivan to say something slick so he could hound on him, literally. There was a brief pause, Gilbert glaring holes into the sides of his husband's face. The Russian sighed heavily, as if he too wanted an excuse to fight Alfred one-on-one.

"Perhaps," the Russian started, "for once we agree on something, we do need to reconcile our differences for sake of our people." He looked surprisingly sincere, though only the trained eye can see his minute facial changes. "We need a lasting agreement, a connection, to forge some sort of relationship between our... kind." At the last word, Ivan almost whispered it, but Alfred's lycan ears could hear him just fine. What did he mean by that? Alfred closed his eyes and counted to 10, taking a sip of his water. No need to linger on it, he had business to tend to.

"I am proposing trade routes and imports," Arthur suggested, and Gilbert and Ivan eyed each other warily before turning back to face Arthur.

"We've made agreements like this in the past with the past American king. It did very little to end our conflicts." The Russian king sighed, and Arthur cleared his throat.

"You know very well that we're nothing like the last monarchs." The Russian monarchs arched their brows at him, and though it was clear that they wanted to interject, they didn't for manner's sake. "Those last agreements were trivial in nature: one or two routes here, a third and a fourth to the east. However, what we're trying to do now is not only offering valuable routes and ports, but also a symbolic extension of our efforts to get on better terms with you." Ivan parted his lips, but before he could speak, Gilbert clicked his tongue.

"Perhaps domestically, you serve better than the king and queen before you, but in the last 15 years of your reign, you upheld the same brutal treatment towards us." There was a brief pause as Gilbert scratched his head. "For one, one of your first acts as king was to aid Manchuria in our land dispute. You helped Germany send spies into my castle in a wicked attempt to steal me from my husband," though Gilbert was speaking quietly, he was far from calm. In fact, Alfred could hear every drop of venom in his voice. "In regards to your foreign policy, the apple didn't fall far from it's tree."

"Then what do you propose we do?" Arthur asked. Alfred could tell just by Arthur's tone that whatever the Russian said next would be rejected immediately. The albino queen scowled at the American monarchs, before sighing.

"We don't want to impose, and because we are genuine in our efforts to build our relationship, we will accept anything but that." Alfred and Arthur peered at him curiously, earning a cocky grin from the queen. "What, surprised that we're so awesome?" Arthur snorted, gulping down what was left of his drink.

"Yes," Arthur's voice oozed sarcasm, but by the way Gilbert's eyes lit up, Alfred could tell that the albino didn't catch it. Ivan definitely did, which was why he slowly shook his head in disappointment as his queen basked in fake praise. "Well, anyway, because we also want this new relationship to work, we will have to think about this overnight and come to you in the morning with a few more suggestions, however, I do implore you to reconsider trade agreements." They all stood at one, Gilbert and Arthur exchanging brief kisses on the cheek, and the alphas barely nodding at each other. As the Russian monarchs left the king's study, Alfred could have sworn that he heard Ivan chuckle, but it was so faint that it could have been his imagination.

"They're so annoying," Alfred huffed, leaning back on his desk. Arthur, his beautiful queen, nodded his head in agreement.

"So tiring."

"So what do we offer?" The king asked, a little annoyed, and Arthur sauntered over to him, wrapping an arm around his neck lovingly.

"I don't know, but you have all night to think about it."

That morning, Alfred and Arthur were too busy entertaining their guests, the other royals to actually meet with Ivan and Gilbert. It was breakfast, but with a dozen and a half royal families, including children, it was no less than a feast. They would all be staying for a few days because it would, without a doubt, be a tiring journey back to their home countries. The hall was full of chatter and laughter, Alfred making brief eye contact with Davie, who was trying to force feed Anya some vegetables. Geoffrey and Anya ate their breakfast in relative silence, probably put off by the unwarranted attention. Not only were the leaders of many countries here, so were their teenaged, hormonal children, children who did little to hide their gawking stares directed at the french ambassador's beautiful children. Davie, aware of the beauty of his little chaotic daughter, perched himself right next to her and glared down anyone who even looked in their general direction.

Geoffrey purposely positioned himself between his mother and father, not wanting a repeat of the last world meeting. Last year, the youngest daughter of Spain, while drunk, groped him at dinner. When he had complained about it, no one except his family had really taken him serious, and instead of blaming the young princess like they should have, they mocked Geoffrey for being bothered by being touched by a 14 year old, especially because at the time, he was 16. They told him he should be flattered that he was assaulted. Alfred hadn't heard about it until about a week later, and though Geoffrey and Anya were menaces to society, they were still his family, and he sent a strongly worded letter to Antonio and Lovino. Though the gesture gave Geoffrey some comfort, it did little to stop him from being distrustful of any and all strangers. More importantly, it made his temper even worse, and him far more protective of his sister, his 'baby' cousin Desdemona, and bombshell mother Chancy. Though he was sitting down quietly, he too was throwing death stares at people even glancing in his mother's direction, deep eyes threatening to send people's minds into the void. His angry face did little to make him less attractive however, and many princesses still watched him longingly.

Alfred was surprised Julius wasn't having a field day with this, laughing in his seat. Instead, Julius was nowhere to be found. As the king scanned the room, he couldn't find his boy, but he did find an empty seat next to Ivan and Gilbert. When he looked up at their expressions, he could see they were too looking around for their own 'son', Dominic Braginski. Dominic wasn't their biological son, instead, after Ivan's sister died almost 13 years ago, they raised then 7 year old Dominic as their own. After rumor went around claiming that Gilbert was barren, they formally adopted Dominic, making him their only heir. After a few minutes of watching trying to calmly look for their son, Ivan finally stood up, probably expecting some sort of fowl play. It wouldn't have been a stretch, Russia had no allies, and attacking the future king would have been a solid way to wreck their society. The American sighed. That would have been suicide, however, because if the Russians were good at anything, it was finding out information, and if anyone did anything to his son, he would have killed them and absorbed their territory.

The twerp was probably lost.

The Russian monarchs left the dining room abruptly, grabbing the attention of Arthur.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and Alfred shrugged.

"I think their looking for their little psycho," the king snickered, but his queen groaned, standing up.

"They'll be bitter if they get lost in our palace," he groaned. "We have to help them look." Alfred pouted and whined,but ultimately Arthur was right and he had no choice but to catch up with them. It took a few minutes, but eventually they did find the Russians, who were looking at each other with confused looks, wandering aimlessly. When they saw the Americans, Ivan scowled at them with surprising heat, causing Arthur to hesitate a bit. "We saw you wandering around. We wondered if you were lost." He said kindly, and the king paused before nodding.

"I think Dominic overslept. We need to find his room, but I forget how to get there." Ivan and Gilbert part in the middle, an invitation for the Americans to lead the way. It only took a few minutes for them to find his bedroom, and when they did, Gilbert banged on the door with surprising verocity. "Relax," Ivan snapped, but Gilbert was unfased. After a bit, Gilbert wore himself out, resting his arm on the handle.

"I don't think he's in- ah!" The door must have been unlocked because Gilbert's weight on the hand forced the door open. To everyone's relief, Dominic was sleeping soundly in bed, however it took a moment for everyone to register the shock of seeing someone curled up against him underneath the covers. Gilbert sputtered as he climbed to his feet. "V-v-v-VANYA!" he shrieked, causing everyone, including the two sleeping people, to jerk. Ivan told him to relax again, but Gilbert hissed at him. "Shut up! What if he catches something? He's sleeping with a stranger!"

Slowly yet surely Dominic came too, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, body covered in love-bites and scratches. Gilbert gagged and Alfred laughed, clapping. It was hilarious, the bothered look in Ivan's eyes as his only heir groaned. "What now?" He asked tiredly with a surprisingly well concealed Russian accent. "Haven't you heard of knocking? We're in the land of the free, you can't barge around like you own anything while we're here." Ivan huffed at him, and Alfred continued to snickered. He liked this kid. "And who are those bozos behind you, hah? S.S, da?" His dull purple eyes glared at the American monarchs lazily.

There was a groan from underneath the covers, dainty hands peeking out from the covers. "Who are you talking too?" Said a hoarse voice, and just then a sickening feeling shot up Alfred's and Arthur's spine. They stood their quietly before turning to face each other, eyes flashing in fear and rage. Alfred pushed past the Russians to the side of the concealed second party. If God loved him, he wouldn't let this be who he thought it would be. He crouched down to his knees before clearing his voice, humming, the body under the covers growing rigid.

"Julius?" He growled, and the body almost turned to stone.

"Uh... no?" Said an unconvincing voice, and now it was the Russian's turn to laugh. Gilbert was pacing around the room angrily, Arthur joining him, both cursing loudly. "Maybe?" The voice changed his answer. Alfred began to tug on the blanket, Julius squeaking, when Dominic stopped his hand.

"At least let him get... cleaned up," he said cockily, Alfred taking a moment to realize what he meant. He scowled at him, snatching his hand away.

"You fools have 10 minutes."

Julius wouldn't make any eye-contact with his parents, sitting suspiciously close to the Russian prince as the Russians and Americans scolded them.

"You two are idiots!" Gilbert barked.

"I am so disappointed in you, Jules!" Arthur wept.

"This was quite irresponsible of you, Dominic," Ivan sighed.

"I hope you had fun, Julius, because from this day forward you will never leave my sight. Do I make myself clear?" Alfred hissed, clutching his son's chin and forcing him to lookup at him. "Do I?" he repeated, and hesitated before saying yes. Alfred turned his attention to Dominic, who was, unlike Julius, unfased by the yelling. He didn't even look at the very least ashamed. Alfred would have hanged him if it weren't for him being royalty.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself? Your little one night stand could very well cost your father his desperately needed peace with me." Alfred snapped, and Dominic looked at him in confusion. "Yeah, that's right, your parents and I were in the middle of negoti-"

"One night stand?" The Russian asked in confusion, Julius hissing at him with a glare. A glare that told him to shut up. Alfred looked down at his son in horror.

"This isn't your first time with him, huh?" He asked darkly. The blood flowing through him was boiling and it took all of his strength not to attack the two imbeciles in front of him. "You let... that defile you before?" He never been so disappointed in his son before. "You know, ever since..." Alfred wanted to lash out, insult and breakdown the boy, but even at his angriest he couldn't. Julius knew where the insult was going.

"What, ever since I lost my arm?" He asked bitterly, having the nerve to glare at his father as if he embarrassed him. He wiggled his body to emphasize the fact that one sleeve was empty. "I may be disabled, but I'm not a child!" He yelled, and Alfred took a threatening step forward, Julius shuffling backwards in shock in fear. "I'm 21 years old! I'm not even the heir to the throne anymore. You two locked me in my room for years, as if I were some invalid. I'm an adult-"

"Set for priesthood!" Arthur snapped, and Julius fell quiet. "And you've been having sex all the while training! How can anyone believe you to be responsible ever again?" Julius trembled, but no longer with fear, rather rage.

"I don't want to be a priest! I stopped wanting to be a priest years ago, but you wouldn't listen! You forced me into abstinence." He snapped, the entire room silent. "I told you time and time again to release me, and you two ignored me... Domi was-

"Did you just call him Domi?" Alfred asked, marching towards, fire behind his eyes. He was going to kill him, he was going to-

"Wait!" Alfred clenched his fists as Dominic dragged Julius behind him protectively. The Russian prince looked a little concerned now, but it was clearly only for Julius's safety. "It's not his fault, really. If any-"

"Don't you dare say another word," Ivan commanded, his son hesitating before continuing slowly.

"O-okay... Okay, but I can't just leave my mate in a situation like this. It's so hostile." He reasoned with his father, and Ivan looked at him in shock, before turning his gaze to the slim blond boy. Julius, cheeks red and eyes angry, whacked the Russian over the head as all adults closed in on them. Alfred could feel his claws emerging along with his fangs.

"You can't let your... what?" He asked in warning. This was the Russian's prince's last chance to run off alive and in one piece. Dominic, again, un-bothered, shrugged.

"My mate, for over a year," He said in challenge, Julius, a blushing mess behind him. "We've been writing each other letters weekly, and the only reason I came to this stupid meeting was to see him!" Alfred raised his fist and swung down, but Julius pushed his mate away just in time to avoid the fatal blow.

"DAD, Stop!" He begged, but Alfred only stopped because he could feel the magical constraints of his queen on him. He growled, walking away.

"I can't even look at you, Jules..." Alfred panted, Arthur caressing his arms. Ivan practically tossed his son aside in order to get to Julius, but Alfred could hardly bring himself to care what happened next. Ivan peered down at the effeminate alpha, before slowly looking over to his son.

"I've never seen an alpha look so womanly, it's uncanny. Hardly natural," he said curiously. It wasn't meant to be an insult, but Dominic took it that way.

"You've hardly seen any omegas that look like me either!" He countered, and Arthur and Alfred snapped their necks towards the boy. He... was an omega? But he gave off such a... domineering vibe, a fearless, reckless vibe, there was no way for anyone to tell he wasn't an alpha.

"Yes, but that's because you are mentally ill."

"For the last time I'm not!. I'm just not afraid of anyone! That's perfectly fine." Dominic yelled back.

"No, it's not," said all of the adults in the room.

"Look here, little one," Ivan looked Julius in the eyes, the blond quivering in terror. "Don't shake, I won't hurt you, da? How did you meet my son? Tell me the story." Like a school boy, he plopped himself down and crossed his legs, waiting patiently. "Whenever you are ready. And if the story isn't interesting, I'll save your father the trouble and kill Dominic myself." Alfred could tell Ivan wasn't serious on his threat, but by the way Julius plopped down, defeated, he bought the bait.

"Okay, okay, okay... but can I hold him." He reached out for his mate, and Ivan nodded, the two lovebirds shuffling towards each other. "It all started two years ago, during the battle."