Noon that morning...
Arthur's POV...
He woke up to a rude jerk over his head, the brit panicking. Was he under attack? He looked around, blinking wildly as the sunlight touched his eyes. He ignored the mocking laughter of his mate, who seemed to think his reaction was funny. Alfred proceeded to dress the brit up as if he were an infant. "I hope you wiped me down." The American scoffed.
"I even cleaned you out." Arthur looked around the room, recognizing it to be their bed chamber. Why were they in here? Alfred followed his eyes. "We needed to bathe, so I took us here. We need to get ready to board the ship today, I completely forgot." He sighed, annoyed. He pulled some shoes onto the brit. "You wouldn't wake up, so I had to dress you myself." He continued, buckling it. "Hope you like the outfit." He stood up suddenly and began to dig in the drawers for something. Arthur stood up and straightened out his clothes, looking at the mirror. His hair was pulled into a low, short pony-tail. His blouse was a deep blue silk v-neck that was half tucked into thin black trousers that reached halfway past his calves. His shoes were simple black slip-ons, tying the piece together nicely.
"You did good." Arthur praised, placing a quick kiss on the American's cheek. The prince pulled out a silver pendant from the drawer, smiling as it shimmered. He turned to the omega, instructing him to turn around. Arthur blushed as he did so. "You don't need to-"
"Shhhh." The prince hushed, kissing the back of his head. "Just let me." He slipped the necklace around the brit's neck and clasped it from behind. "It's kind of important, and I think you should have it." Arthur turned around and kissed him, smiling when he saw the other was blushing. "Take a look at it in the mirror." He ordered, and Arthur practically bounced to the mirror, smiling at his reflection. The pendant has clear diamonds encrusted in it, and on the back there was a bird flying through a ring of thorned vines. "That's my family crest." He said as he put on his crown. Arthur looked at it for a little while longer, before walking over to him once more and kissing him.
"You called it important. Why?" He whispered. Alfred was about to speak, but then someone cleared their throat at the door. Arthur turned to see John and Arnold standing at the doorway.
"The carriage is ready." John said with a bow. Alfred thanked him, linking up arms with Arthur and leading them out of the room. The couple followed Arnold and John quietly, Arthur smirking at their banter. "Do you ever stop talking, Arnie?" John asked suddenly, and Arnold made a sound of mock offense.
"Oh how dare you? This is just like that time 10 years ago..." Arnold started, the brit tuning him out.
"Arnold's a sweetheart." Arthur said quietly to Alfred, who hummed in amusement. "I'm serious, he's sweet. A little troublesome, but overall sweet."
"He's only behaving like this because we're around. We're younger than him by a lot, and he's just trying to make us feel comfortable." He explained. "When I would accompany my father on trade deals, he was nothing like this. Cold and calculating with a hint of mockery." Arthur quirked a brow, the description matching Alfred to a 'T'. However, he kept the thought to himself. "He was like that a little earlier this week, before you had arrived. He made sure there were no holes in the plan, viewing it at many angles; he's a true businessman." Arthur bit his lip, figuring he had to be on guard. Alfred notice his composure stiffen, so he quickly added. "He has a lot riding on you, he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that." He assured, and Arthur pretended to relax.
Who could he actually trust? It's clear that he had to... rethink his inner circle. Like Elizabeta, his brothers had betrayed him, and he had a sneaking paranoia that everyone was out to get him. "Alright... can you tell me about this pendant?" He figured positive thoughts were what he needed right now. Alfred smiled brightly.
"It was my grandmother's on my father's side. Before she died, she had given it to me and told me to give it to the person I thought I wanted to be with forever." He explained. "I've rejected people left and right, and it came to the point that once I had arrived at the fortress, I locked it in a drawer. I had forgotten about it up until recently." Arthur smiled brightly.
"You want to be with me forever?" He asked shyly, the American looking down at him in mild confusion.
"Uh... Yes? I really don't know why you're asking." He said, unhooking their arms and draping it over the omega's shoulder. "I thought I made it clear that I love every inch of you." He hummed, pulling him in. Arthur chuckled softly.
"I was kidding."
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
The pair boarded the boat after they had given their last farewels to everyone, the prince promising to get someone to fix the door. Arthur found it easier to depart this time, and he counted his blessings as the shoreline disappeared farther into the distance. He was currently sitting on his bed, Alfred and Arnold whispering over something in the corner, John reading a book silently. Arthur sighed, figuring he should do the same. He stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, grabbing the first book he saw. "Utopia?" The book looked interesting enough, the brit returning to the mattress and plopping down. The rest of his five weeks are going to be like this, huh?
1 week later...
Arthur sat snuggled up against the pillow, trying his best to stay awake as John lectured him about posture. It's not like the lessons were boring, the brit was just so drained after his four hour sessions with Arnold, cramming 20 years worth of business experience into his head. His brain felt like butter, and Arnold was unrelenting, not dismissing the blond until he could relay everything he had learned that day and the lessons prior. Arnold's arms business was his legacy, and Arthur understood that, but he was unsure of how cut out he was for this job.
John cleared his throat. "I assume your fatigue is due to your father." He said sternly. Arthur twitched as the other called Arnold his father, the prince insisting that they address him that way so the pair would get used to it. Likewise, whenever Alfred talked to Arnold about Arthur, he would say 'your son', and when the brits spoke face to face, they addressed each other as father and son. The brit nodded.
"Yeah, but it's not too bad. He just wants to make sure I understand." He stretched, flinging the pillow to the side. "But I'm listening, so please continue." He said, straightening himself out. John nodded, clearing his throat.
"Hello, you're looking quite stunning might I say. My name is... Tino Väinämöinen" he said randomly, the brit recalling the name ever being mentioned. John could see the uncertainty in his eyes, so he elaborated. "I am the Prime Minister of Finland, I've trade relations with the United States and Britain." Arthur bowed his head.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Arthur Pendragon." He answer in finnish, John quirking a brow. Arthur translated himself.
"Ah, yes, likewise." He took a sip of his tea. "So, you said your family name was Pendragon, yes?" Arthur nodded curtly. "Well, that means you're a member of the British royal family. However, your throne was abdicated and your government was dismantled, how did you and Alfred formally get introduced?" The tone was a little hostile, the older perhaps going for an out of sorts character.
"Well," He started, racking his brain for the appropriate response. "I don't want to bore you with the details, but it was arranged between my adoptive father and the late king of America before he parished" he said simply. "I never had a chance to speak with the king personally, but I just so happen to run into Alfred unexpectedly. From there it gets a little cheesey." He chuckled a little bit. John nodded.
"Alright. I'm breaking character for a bit." he sighed, rubbing his hands together. "Good response, I liked the finnish, but mind your expression when you begin to think about your anwers, you look pensive. You need to seem as natural as possible." He critiqued, and Arthur nodded. "Okay, now one more round from the top." He cleared his throat a bit. "Well, Hallo. My name is Ludwig Beilschimdt."
2 weeks later...
Arthur groaned as he re-did the calcualtions, Arnold hovering over him. They were currently going over how to calculate profit and losses under the circumstance of inflation, and Arthur swore he was going to snap. He was never a fan of math, and these exponents and percent deductions were going to make him pull his hair out. Once he thought he had the right answer, he handed the piece of parchment to his father. Arnold took the sheet, chuckling.
"Jesus Christ. You are way off, do it again." The omega scowled at the tabletop. Arnold handed him another piece of paper, the brit taking it bitterly, restarting his calculations. Arthur chewed on the top of his quill before he slammed it on the table, putting his head down in defeat. It wouldn't have been the first time the omega had thrown a tantrum, but he would usually reserve it until after the lesson whilst he was in his room. He could her Armold approach him, pulling up a chair so he could sit down beside the other. "Arthur, why have you stopped?" He said sternly. He had stopped his bubbly attitude a little over 2 weeks ago, his true cold nature taking over. Arthur didn't know which one he prefered.
"I can't do it." He muttered so lowly that he could hardly hear it himself. Arnold patted his back encouragingly.
"It took me hours to do one problem when I was first starting out, You're moving at a proper rate." He sighed, lifting up the quill. Arthur slowly lifted up his head to peak at the other's expression. Arnold's face was, as expected, blank. Well, at least he didn't get angry. "Do you want me walk you through this one?" He asked, and Arthur nodded, moving his chair closer to the other. "Alright, first thing you have to do is figure out which number is your constant."
1 week later...
The brit was feeling a little weezy as he woke up that early morning, tapping Alfred awake. The prince struggled a bit before finally succumbing to his fate, opening his eyes. "Artie, it can't be past 7. What is it?" He groaned, Arthur lighting a candle. As he sat back down, he felt his stomach flip, forcing him to get up again and rush to the bathroom, emptying his stomach contents. The omega panted. Was it something he ate? "Arthur, are you okay?" He heard the other called, the soft sound of footsteps following after. The prince crouched down beside the brit, holding his hair back as he vomitted once more. "Did you eat something?" he asked, rubbing his back.
"I don't know." he said pair sat there for about 10 minutes, the brit vommiting every 3 or so. After an additional ten minutes had passed without the other vomitting, the prince brought over a rag and wiped the brit off, carrying him to bed again. The brit felt much better as he was tucked in, Alfred leaving briefly in order to empty the bucket the brit was using. By the time the prince had returned, the brit was already asleep, dozing as if nothing had happened.
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
Arthur drank some more water, picking at his food. It was the usual eggs and bacon, but the brit did want to eat it for some reason. He was craving..."Pancakes." He said suddenly, John, Arnold and Alfred looking at him in confusion. The brit pushed his plate aside gently. "I want to eat pancakes instead." He said, and Alfred nodded slowly, looking around with uncertainty.
"You sure? I thought you hated pancakes." He eyed the brit, who pouted at him in return. Alfred raised his hands in defense. "Alright, Alright. Uh, excuse me." He called, grabbing the attention of the nearest maid. "Yea, can I have about..." He looked over at Arthur for the amount of pancakes he wanted, Arthur bit his lips.
"Half a dozen."
"Half a dozen?" Alfred couldn't hide his mild shock, turning back to his maid. "Yeah, can I have half a dozen pancakes please. Thank you." The maid rushed off to fulfill the order, Arnold chuckling softly.
"I mean, he is a growing boy." Arthur rolled his eyes.
"I'm 21 years old." He mumbled, taking another sip of his water. "And as a 21 year old, I have the right to change my palate." The prince narrowed his eyes at the other, nodding slowly. The maid returned shortly after, setting the stack of pancakes on the table. The brit pulled the plate towards himself as the maid asked him which kind of syrup would he like, the options being maple and strawberry. He bit his lip, not finding himself in the mood for any of them. "Do you have gravy?" Alfred almost spit out his strip of bacon, and Arnold smirked.
The maid looked at him curiously before heading off into the kitchen. "Gravy? On pancakes?" Alfred asked, and the brit shrugged. "Are you feeling okay? You were a little sick this morning." Arthur found it hilarious how genuinely concerned the other looked right now.
"The other two syrups didn't sound very appetizing." he said simply, Arnold laughing loudly.
"Let the boy eat how he wishes." He seemed to be in support of Arthur's breakfast choice. "It might even taste good." The maid came back with a small bowl of gravy, pouring the brown warm substance over the fluffy pancakes. Arthur could hear the Americans gag, he and Arnold laughing. "Now tell us how it tastes." Arthur cut a big piece out of the pancake, dipped it some gravy, and pushed it in his mouth. The sweet fluffy pancake and the smooth savory gravy created a sensual texture in his mouth, and he moaned in delight.
"It's really good." He said once he had swallowed, the Americans sqealing in disgust. Arnold shook his head. "You guys should try it." The brit said, his father shrugging, cutting himself a piece. He coated the piece in the brown substance and ate it in one bite. At first he had no reaction, but then he broke into a smile, chewing and swallowing it. The trio waited for his response.
"It's not the best topping, but it's certainly not the worst." He commentated, taking a sip of his wine. Alfred shook in disgust, John closing his eyes for protection of any potential projectile vomit. Arthur continued to eat his pancakes to the distress of his alpha.
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
Arthur had to excuse himself for the fourth time in the last hours, having to once again, pee. He had no idea why he was urinating so often, but now Alfred and John were looking at him oddly. "Jesus." He muttered as he returned from the restroom. "I need to stop drinking water then." He sat down on the bed again and picked up his book. He read his book for a liitle while before he felt a wave of sleep wash over him, causing him to yawn loudly.
"Arthur, are you sure you're okay?" Alfred asked, turning away from his advisor. "You woke up 3 hours ago, and you're tired already. Should I call the nurse?" The brit shook his head.
"I'll just take a nap. I'm fine, I promise." He yawned again, setting his book aside, pulling the blanket over his body. The moment he closed his eyes, he was unconscious, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
Alfred pouted at him, huffing as he sat up in bed. Arthur sucked his teeth sitting up also, the blanket falling to his lap. He reached out his hand to the other, holding on to his bicep. Alfred scowled at him before jerking his arm away, flopping down onto the bed and rolling to his side, back facing the brit. Arthur scowled back at him, using his hand to slap the other's back. Alfred hissed, turning to face him angrily, Arthur pinching his ear.
"Are you seriously getting mad at me?! Over something like this!?" he yanked the other's ear, Alfred yelping. "I never said we couldn't do it, I just said you can't touch me there because they're sore." His scolding continued for a minute before Alfred slapped his hand away, suddenly serious.
"I haven't touched you there in days, so why is it sore?" He asked, his tone practically dripping with suspicion. Arthur stared at him for a while before finally catching on to what he was hinting at. The brit didn't even entertain the prince, huffing as he blew out the candle, throwing the blanket over his head. Alfred didn't let the darkness stop his line of questioning. "Oh, no answer? Why does it hurt?!" he yanked the blanket off of the brit, the omega growling at him. Alfred lit the candle, the two staring at each other for a long while.
"I don't know." Arthur said finally, voice cracking. "You're so awful, you know that." He let a single tear drop, and Alfred sighed.
"Look" He said, pulling the other closer to him by the wrists. "I'm annoyed, and I'm being a dick." He kissed his forehead, the brit letting more tears fall. The brit couldn't say he wasn't shaken: his mate had just implied he had had an affair. The thought made him shake wildly as he growled lightly. Don't get him wrong, he wasn't sad. Oh no, no, no, no, no; he was angry. How dare he?! The fact that he's feeling tender doesn't constitute that he's having an affair. Alfred sighed. "Arthur... just let it out. I know you're mad." He mumbled.
"I'm not obligated to have sex with you because you say so, and me telling you no doesn't mean that I'm cheating." He hissed. "Furthermore, I never said we couldn't have sex, I was completely fine with having sex, but my... chest is sore. You know I'm a little out of it today, maybe it's hormones, or maybe it's stress but..." He sighed, shaking his head. "You can't just... I know you didn't say it, but you meant it and it hurts!" He sobbed out. "I'm not unfaithful, and it hurts that you think I'd be!" He buried his head into his neck, scenting him. He sighed as Alfred growled softly at him, kissing the top of his head apologetically. "I love you," he sniffled, lifting his head. He kissed the other passionately, opening his mouth to allow the other access. Before they could pull away in order to breathe, he bit down sharply on the other's tongue, the alpha yelping. "But the next time you do that, you're losing your tongue." He growled.
Alfred's hand covered his mouth, nodding obediently as he tried to soothe his pain. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, kissing the brit on the cheek. Arthur wiped his tears, stretching.
"Now, let's continue where we started." He pounced on the prince, who eyed him in confusion.
"What? But we just had a fight. I don't think-"
"I said let's get back to it." The brit growled, licking the shell of the prince's ear.
3 days later...
Arthur frowned as the nurse shuffled in, John and Arnold standing close by in case the brit tried to run. They were all in the infrimary, the brit sitting on the operation table, waiting for his forced check up. Alfred had had enough of Arthur's bizarre behaviour, and the fact that every morning he would be rudely awakened by the omega so he could hold his hair up while he puked.
"Hello, your majesty. How are you feeling today?" She had a high pitched voice, and long black hair. She looked to be around 40 years old, her eyes showing signs of aging. She wore a nurse's uniform, and her first aid kit was in her hands.
"I'm doing fine." He answered shortly. He didn't belong here, only sick people go here. She nodded, asking the brit to open his mouth wide. He did. Then she put her hand on his chest and told him to breathe in deeply. He did.
"The prince told me that you've been ill in the mornings, is that normal for you?" She asked, writing something down in her notes.
"No." Arthur said curtly.
"He also said that you've been tired a lot lately, is that true?" She asked again.
"Yes, but I'm sure it'll pass." He assured, and she smiled to herself.
"He also said that you've been eating strangely. Apparently, you changed your usual palate, and you have changed your eating schedule. Is there a reason why?" She asked, and Arthur shrugged.
"I've just been craving things, and as for my eating pattern... I dunno, I just eat when I'm hungry." He watched as she continued to take notes.
"He said you've been urinating alot lately, and that your nipples are sore. Is this correct also?" Arthur growled when he heard Arnold snort, turning to see the older men shaking in silent laughter. The brit nodded, ignoring his blush. "He also says you've been having mood swings. One moment you were excited over getting a midnight snack, and the next you were sobbing because you couldn't remember the name of your favorite character in a book you've read. Is this true?" Arnold and John were laughing outright now, Arnold practically wheezing.
"Dad! Stop!" He yelled, the nurse chuckling herself. He turned to the nurse with a blush. "I apologize for their behaviour... Does anything sound wrong with me?" he asked, now just a little bit worried. Hearing all his issues aired out like that led him to realize that there might be something wrong. The nurse looked over to the two gentlemen by the door.
"John, hun." She called, and John looked at her expectantly. "Can you retrieve the prince?" Arthur knitted his eyebrows together. Oh, oh dear. Arthur began to shake, looking at his father for comfort. Arnold caught his glance and walked over to the small brit, taking a seat at the operation table beside him. Arthur rested his head on his shoulder, the older wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Was something wrong with him? Just then Alfred walked in, John right behind him. The prince walked over to the pair, turning to greet the nurse.
"What's wrong with him?" He asked taking a seat beside Arthur, taking his hand. The woman smiled, pulling up a chair and sitting down.
"Well, there is absolutely nothing wrong with your mate. He is completely healthy." She said, and the trio sighed. "However," She added, and the trio tensed up again. "Your majesty, when was the last time you two were... intimate?" All eyes were on Alfred, Arnold's eyes practically burning holes into the side of his face. The prince blushed.
"Um, around three days ago." He offered, and the nurse nodded.
"Did his strange behaviour start before intercourse?" She asked, taking down notes.
"Yes." He said brusquely. She nodded, turning her attention to Arthur once more.
"When was your last heat?" She asked. Arthur's face twisted into a frown as he thought.
"Uh... almost 3 months ago. I'm due for another one, actually." He answered. Was this just it? Was he just going into heat?
"May I swab your glands?" She asked, and Arthur nodded. She took out a cotton swab and walked over to him. "This will feel uncomfortable, but don't move." She warned, and Arthur nodded, understanding. The brit flinched as the cotton swab slipped in between the crevasses of his glands, moving back and forth. He had to fight the urge to move, but before he knew it, it was already over. She took the swab and walked over to her desk, moving some things around. He didn't know what because he couldn't see them. Eventually she turned around to face the crowd. "That's all for know. I'll notify you once the results are in." The young couple scrunched up their noses.
"What results?" Arthur asked. She smiled brightly.
"The pregnancy results, of course."
