AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know The English Game isn't the first fandom you'd think of for alpha/beta/omega fics. But I've been generally wanting to write about a relationship between a beta and an alpha. Betas are mostly ignored in this universe, and if they are discussed, its only for "the beta turns out to really be an omega" plots. The focus is always on how fertile omegas are, and their ability to have children is obsessed over by writers.
Here's the thing. The real world used to reduce women to their wombs. So why has this fanfiction universe reverted so far back to that? I'm not saying to get rid of all of the omega fertility fics.
But let's also talk about betas.
Arthur paced in the hall.
The doctor had been in the bedroom with Alma for an eternity. Her alpha husband walked back and forth, praying like never before and begging God to save the pup and his omega wife. There had been a veritable river of blood, and Arthur knew he'd never recover if he lost them both tonight. When the door opened, he turned, heart beating so hard he thought it might fly out of his chest. The doctor looked worn and tired. "I am afraid your wife has lost the pup."
Suddenly unable to breathe, Arthur reached for the wall.
"Lady Kinnaird herself is weak, but still alive. Though it is a miracle you and she even conceived in the first place," the physician continued.
The aristocrat looked up, confused.
"Her Ladyship needs rest," the doctor added. "I will return in the morning. Good evening, Lord Kinnaird."
"Thank you, doctor," Arthur said, throat closing up. "My butler will see you out." Grief-stricken and perplexed, Arthur went past the older man into the bedroom.
Alma was pale as death as she lay in bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, but at least she was still breathing. The omega tilted her head to see him, and held out a shaking hand. Tears welled in Arthur's eyes as he wove their fingers together, fell to his knees at her bedside, and wept.
He hadn't cried since he was a child; tears were considered an unmanly weakness, and not befitting a strong alpha. But the pain was worse than any youthful disappointment. This grief consumed him like a flood, carved open his chest to leave his heart raw and exposed. Crying afresh herself, Alma stroked his hair as he sobbed.
"Henry would have been the most beautiful pup," she whispered brokenly as they clung to each other.
"Yes, he would have been," Arthur choked out through his tears.
"Arthur?"
He lifted his head and looked at her. "Yes?"
More unshed tears glittered like diamonds in her eyes. "The doctor said I am a…" She couldn't finish.
"He told me it was a miracle you and I conceived," Arthur commented. "It was most strange."
"It is not peculiar, now that I know the truth," she replied flatly. The look in her eyes was different from sorrow, instead hollow and melancholy. "When we first met at your Aunt Louisa's dance, we all thought I was a late-presenting omega."
"Yes, which was not an issue for me," the alpha insisted. "I love you, Alma, and-"
"There is more," she interrupted, demeanor entirely unlike herself. "I suppose we should have seen this coming. How long does one wait to present, before realizing one has been another presentation all along? We deluded ourselves into wishing for me to be an omega. Not only us, but our families. We were so desperate for me to be able to bear pups, we told ourselves it would only be a short while longer. Surely I would turn into an omega one day."
He blinked. "I do not understand."
"It appears I am a beta. Divorce me and be done with it."
Silence fell.
He stood. "No, Alma."
She sat up with a wince. "I am a beta! A worthless nothing, a withering tree which bears no fruit! As the Book of St. Matthew says, 'And now also the axe is laid unto the root of the trees: therefore every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.'"
"You are not worthless to me. I love you even if you are a beta."
"You are the future Lord Kinnaird!" she cried. "You must have heirs to continue your family name! And to do that, you need a wife who can provide pups, which clearly will not be me! Arthur, I give you permission to find an omega who can give you a nursery full of sons! Everyone will say how virile of an alpha you are, that you were able to impregnate a barren beta! But I was the one whose body failed, who has a dry and desolate womb which could not sustain life to term!"
"I do not care a whit about heirs or my title!" he declared. "My brother Frederick can become the next Lord Kinnaird for all I care! I love you whether or not you can beget pups!"
"You should not love me!" she said through another flood of tears.
"But I love you, Alma! Do you hear me? I love you!"
She crumbled, and he sat down on the edge of the bed to pull her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head as she wept against his chest, and they grieved together.
A year later, the alpha Lord Kinnaird and beta Lady Kinnaird took Betsy Cronshaw's daughter back to her disgraced omega mother.
That evening, Alma and Arthur retired to the guest room of the Hornbys' estate. They lay pensively in bed, dwelling on all that had occurred in that eventful day. Alma fiddled with a loose thread on her nightgown, chestnut hair splayed around her on the pillow. "I cannot help but think of the other pups we could not save."
"Brockshall promised they would step in," Arthur said. "That horrid woman will sell pups no longer."
"But what of the orphans? The ones who do not have living parents to be reunited with? What if…" She trailed off.
"What?"
She didn't answer for a long moment. "What if we took in an orphan as our ward? It is a fact that we cannot have a pup of our own blood." Her eyes filled with tears, but she continued. "But there are thousands, perhaps millions of pups in orphanages or living on the streets."
"You make a fair point," he commented. "We have a home to offer at Rossie Priory, with means to amply provide. It is a splendid notion."
"Thank you, my dear," she said, and he raised her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles.
Once again, the Old Etonians played Blackburn.
This time, the upper class team beat the mill workers. The Kinnairds' orphan ward Jack cheered with other aristocratic boys rooting for their footballer fathers. Alongside Jack stood Alma, and his surrogate grandparents in the stands of the wealthier audience members. But there were no hard feelings between Arthur and Fergus as the alpha captains shook hands.
"Well played," Arthur offered.
"The same to ye," Fergus replied.
With a grin, the dark-haired man went to the stands. Arthur saw Fergus kiss a woman with wheat-blonde hair. The Scotsman's omega wife had a plain ring on her finger, and held a child on her hip. The omega also had a swell beneath her dress, and the sight of it caused pain and envy to rise within Arthur. He wished the Suters all the best, but it reminded Arthur of how Alma had looked before-
The aristocrat looked away, throat closing up.
Suddenly there was a flurry of movement among the wealthier spectators. Jack tackled another boy, who said something Arthur couldn't quite hear. As Alma and Arthur's father tried to intervene, Jack hit the blue-blooded rival in the nose and bolted.
Arthur found Jack crying. The ten-year-old's carrot red hair was mussed, ruining Alma's combing from that morning. More alarming was the black eye he sported, and the tears streaking down his freckled face. "Are you alright?" Arthur asked his adopted son.
Alma joined them as quickly as her restrictive gown would allow. "Jack, what on earth happened?"
Jack sniffed and looked up at his surrogate parents. "The other boys were… They said their parents called Mother a shriveled, dull beta. Which is why I hit Horace the first time. But then- Then Horace said you would send me back to the orphanage. Why would aristocrats want anything to do with scum such as me?"
"You are nothing of the sort," Arthur said firmly. "You are our ward and our son."
Alma added, "And you never have to return to the orphanage. From now on, darling, your home will always be with us at Rossie Priory."
Jack still didn't look convinced, so Arthur bent down to his adopted son's level. The alpha took off his gold ring and held it out to Jack. "This is my family ring bearing the Kinnaird coat of arms. My father gave it to me, and today I give it to you, Jack. You are formally a member of the Kinnaird family now." He placed the ring in the orphan's open palm. Jack tried to put it on, but the ring was too large even for his thumb. "We will buy a chain for you to wear it around your neck until it fits," Arthur added, bemused. "But this belongs to you for the rest of your life."
Jack threw his arms around Arthur. "Thank you, Father!"
The aristocrat embraced the boy in return. "You are more than welcome, my dear lad."
Tears of happiness brimming in her eyes, Alma bent down and held her husband and adopted son tightly. Their family might not have expanded the way they thought, but it was enough for them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: There is a prequel called The Mating Dance coming soon.