DISCLAIMER: Hetalia: Axis Powers – Hidekaz Himaruya
THE CALL OF THE WILD
LOST BOYS
EPILOGUE
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Ivan, this looks wonderful!" Matt praised, leaning down to study the architectural drawing. He had wedged himself in between Ivan and Scott, who were sitting at the kitchen table, a cuppa tea in his hand and a six-month's swollen belly protruding in front of him. Arthur had already dismissed the possibility of it holding twins—much to Gil and Al's disappointment—but Al couldn't believe that a single pup took up so much space. ("He's going to hurt like a bitch coming out," he had tactlessly said to Matt. "Gods, Westerner pups are big!" Matt had rolled his eyes, then countered: "Yeah, good luck with any Easterner pups you conceive." Al had shuddered at the very thought and hadn't mentioned Matt's size again.)
"Is this a nursery?" asked the Omega-father-to-be, pointing at the drawing.
"Yes," Ivan confirmed. "It'll be beside your bedchamber with an adjoining door. On the other side, just here," he indicated, dragging his finger across the thick lines, "is another bedchamber for when the pups are old enough to leave the nursery. This corridor will connect to a side-stairwell, which leads to the kitchen in the middle. There will be doors here and here, but none on the second-level, so you needn't worry about the safety of your pups."
Matthew smiled, very pleased.
Scott harrumphed. "I don't know about these renovations. I still think that we should be building up, not out. And how do you know these pillars won't collapse beneath the weight of new walls?"
"They won't," Ivan promised, a pinch exasperated. "I know what I'm doing. I'm good with my hands."
"Yes, you are," Al purred teasingly from across the table.
"Alfred, chéri,please," said Francis, sitting beside him. "You'll upset my appetite."
Al rolled his eyes. "It's been four months, Papa. I'm mated, get over it.
"And soon Ivan and I will have our very own house," he added smugly. "Ah, I can't wait! Why Mattie and Gil want to stay and live here in the pack-leader's house is a mystery."
Gil swallowed a mouthful of jam biscuit, and shamelessly said: "Six live-in pupsitters, that's why."
Al laughed, but he knew the real reason Gil and Matt were staying in the pack-leader's house was much more secretive. And political. It had already become apparent to Al that Scott was starting to groom the Westerner to be the next pack-leader. Al had no doubts that Gil was qualified for the job, but he had still felt a bit insulted that his Alpha-mate hadn't been chosen. But a late-night conversation with Ivan had quelled it:
"Scott should have at least considered you to be the pack-leader," Al had said, brooding. "I don't see why Gil is a better candidate than you. It's not fair."
"It is," Ivan replied, surprising the Omega. "Scott approached me and asked if I would support Gilbert as the pack-leader, and I said yes."
"But why? You'd be just as good a pack-leader as he would," Al praised. "You'd be better!"
Ivan had chuckled. "I appreciate your loyalty, little one. But no, I wouldn't be—if for no other reason than I don't want to be. I don't want to lead. Gilbert does, so let him have it."
"But—"
"This will be my project for the next couple of years," he said, showing Al the architectural drawings for the first time: one for the pack-leader's house, and one for just he and Al. "I would rather focus on building us a home without the stress of politics."
Al fingered his bear pendent as he looked at the drawings, now. He had been so proud when Ivan had first presented his ideas to the rest of the family. My Alpha-mate is so talented, he had thought—then and now. My Alpha-mate is the best Alpha-mate ever!
Alpha-mate.
Gods, he loved that he could legitimately call Ivan his Alpha-mate now. It had taken much too long.
Alpha-mate. Alpha-mate, he crooned to himself.
Ivan caught his eye and frowned, wondering at his mate's blatant giddiness.
Al smiled smugly back.
You're smiling," Matt whispered to Al, who joined him at the kitchen window.
"Yeah," Al acknowledged, "I do that a lot now."
Together, the Omegas crawled onto the wide window-ledge—Al with considerably more grace than Matt—and sat with their backs pressed to the shudders and their legs entangled. Contently, Matt rested his head against Al's and surveyed the crowded kitchen: Owen tuning a stringed instrument in the corner; Liam reading a hunting report, Patrick aiming a throwing-knife at a target on the wall; Arthur yelling at Patrick and then cursing artfully to himself as he stirred in a deep cauldron; Francis offering cooking advice that got him kicked; Francis adding unhelpful amateur suggestions as Ivan and Scott argued over architectural improvements; and Gil leaning against the opposite window, which was open to let out steam. He was looking out across the rolling moors like he already owned them—like there was nowhere in the world he would rather belong.
I know how you feel, Gil. There's nowhere else I want to be either.
It wasn't perfect, and it didn't feel like the happily-ever-after ending of a fairytale, but Matt was glad. He had never believed in fairytales anyway, and he certainly didn't want to know the ending of his and Gil's story so soon. The thing that made him happiest was the simple, wonderful fact that his home finally felt like home. He didn't feel like a ghost wasting away his days, alone and ignored and taken advantage of. He didn't feel lost anymore. There would still be trials and expectations of him, but for the first time in his life he felt ready to face them. He no longer felt like he was going to break. Like the floodwaters that had once terrified him, the fear and anxiety he had lived with for so long was gradually starting to recede. And if and when he ever did doubt himself again—? Well, he had a whole family who loved him enough to prove him wrong.
As if cued by Matt's thoughts, Al reached over and took his twin's hand. He didn't say a word, but he smiled.
Matt smiled back.
"Has Gil talked to you yet?" he asked, keeping his voice low and his tone conversational.
"No. Why?" Al asked, his curiosity peaked.
"Oh, it's nothing—never-mind," Matt teased, diverting his gaze.
Al bumped his shoulder. "Mattie, tell me. What does Gil want to talk about?"
"Well, you know that Uncle Scott wants Gil to be the next pack-leader, right? Papa thinks he's a good choice, too, even if he won't verbally admit it. I think he is warming up to Gil, though. Albeit, slowly. I overheard them talking in French yesterday—well, talking is a generous description for it; Gil doesn't know much beyond military jargon and curse words—but it's still good progress. Anyway..." Matt shrugged, "nothing is official yet. The Clan Leader still needs to approve Scott's choice, but if Gil wins the position then you might find yourself rather busy, Al."
His brother's brow furrowed, not following the thread, so Matt elaborated:
"Gil will need a second-in-command," he said. "And guess who he wants?"
Al's blue eyes widened. "Me—?" he gasped too loudly.
Arthur looked up, wondering at his pups' whispering. He eyed them as if they were plotting something devious before returning to his work.
Matt pressed a hand to Al's mouth. Al's blue eyes sparkled.
"Gil wants me?" he asked more quietly.
"Maybe." Matt winked. "But you didn't hear it from me."
THANK-YOU for reading. Reviews are always welcome and appreciated :)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank-you to everyone who read, reviewed, and enjoyed Part Two of "The Call of the Wild". You all have the patience of saints! :) For those interested in reading more, I'll be continuing the series with Part Three. Because what's a Medieval AU without a Northern invasion? ;) In the meantime, I invite you all to read:
"Once Upon A Time In The North", which serves as the 'Prologue' of Part Three. (This is a side-story I wrote. You do not have to read it to understand Part Three.)
"The Call of the Wild Spin-Off: Foreign" by YourQueenHasArrived, which is an entirely separate spin-off story set in the world of "The Call of the Wild". This story is set after the events of "Lost Boys", but is NOT an official continuation of "The Call of the Wild". Please note that I have given YourQueenHasArrived permission to write this spin-off, just as I require anyone translating, writing, or otherwise manipulating my work to have my consent.
Cheers,
Shadowcatxx