2 months later...
Arthur groaned as he rolled over, restless. He tried to listen to the soft snores of his husband and their son, adopted son, Julius, to try and lull himself back to sleep, but it was hopeless. It was the middle of the night, and uncomfortably warm september night, and his stomach hasn't been agreeing with him for the last few days. Nothing would stay down, and if it did, it felt like rock in his gut, making him sleepless. He stuck his hand off of the bed, sighing at the familiar cool sensation of Smudge, the white dog that was gifted to him by the council, licking him. Arthur didn't want Smudge at first, but Julius and Alfred were just in love with the big white dog, so Arthur had no choice but to keep it. This dog, however, proved to be the first of many gifts.
Currently in their castle, there is a room designated for the gifts sent by Fulgur, the leader of this council. So far, Arthur was given a massive amount of toys for the baby and Julius, some maternity clothing, a few baby outfits, dressers, changing tables, decorations, and children's books, obviously meant for the nursery. Arthur was now four months pregnant, not feeling very spectacular in any way. Alfred has been showering him in affection, especially since he began to show about a month ago. At first the brit liked it, and he would use it to his advantage in order to get away with certain things, but now it has gotten to the point where he'd prefer the nonchalant Alfred. His husband was was too doting, and clingy.
Julius has been a sweetheart on the other hand. Arthur had no complaints about him at all, well... maybe one. Julius was just too... asocial. He wouldn't talk to any of the aristocratic kids at all, so whenever there was a meeting or a get together, he was cling to either his mother or his father. He wouldn't even glance at the other kids. Alfred has tried to be strict about it, but Julius's behavior towards the other kids wouldn't change, he'd just make it known how much he hated them through body language. He wouldn't even talk to the palace wards often, a few words every now and then, but he hadn't retained any friendships from when he was in the system. Arthur has tried his hand at things too, by scheduling play dates with his friends' children, but it would only drive the other kids away. Julius, as put by Mary, was a 'rag doll'. He would just sit there silently and stare blankly.
Arthur groaned again, but this time about his thoughts. He shouldn't be too hard and his family, Arthur wasn't perfect either. He was incredibly indecisive now, and in the middle of meals he would push his plate away, suddenly craving something else. Of course he wouldn't always voice his new cravings, and later on as a result he would either puke, or become restless in the night. Like now. He sat up, trying not to disturb the others sleeping on the bed. Arthur held onto his developing breasts because they were bothering him. These milk sacks weren't very heavy, rather they were just annoying. Julius was sleeping with them because he didn't like his room, which threw him off because they had just remodelled the room for him. Alfred wanted to press on the topic, but the queen advised him otherwise, it being too late to play 20 questions.
"Mama?" Arthur glanced down to see the toddler sit up beside him. "Do you need me to get a bucket?" The queen smiled softly.
"No thank you, sweetie." He caressed the other's cheek. "Why are you up?" he asked, the child shrugging.
"Why are you up?" Arthur scoffed.
"I'm an adult, that's why." He explained. Julius looked up at him in shock before scowling.
"Well, if that were true, then I wouldn't be up." He said astutely. Arthur chuckled again, the two blondes succumbing to a fit of laughter.
"SHHHHH!" Arthur snapped his neck in time to see Alfred reaching over and lighting a candle.
"Sorry daddy." Julius began to lie down, still chuckling. Alfred narrowed his eyes at them, staring them down menacingly. However the brit knew full well that the American just couldn't see them. The king grunted, moving to blow out the candle. "Wait." Alfred turned to the child once again. "Mama can't sleep." he tattled, the queen sighing. Alfred was suddenly upright, stretching, ready to do something. What? Arthur didn't know.
"Are you o-" Arthur placed a finger on his lips, stopping him.
"Stop, I'm fine. I'm just not tired anymore." Arthur explained, but the king looked skeptical. "I mean it! I took like 4 naps today." Alfred nodded, probably a little too tired to argue.
"Well then," He started, rubbing at his eyes. "What are you going to do?" Arthur shrugged.
"Stare at the ceiling."
"That's boring." Julius mumbled, Alfred nodding in agreement. Julius gasped suddenly, jumping to his feet, rushing out of the bed. "I know, I know, I know! We can play in the gardens." He suggested, the adults in the room immediately shutting it down.
"No, bud, that's dangerous." Alfred reasoned, the queen nodding in solidarity. Julius pouted as he stomped back towards the bed.
"But it's pretty out there." He whined, Alfred shaking his head.
"In the morning, maybe. You still have to catch up on some assignments." The king said sternly, Julius scowling at him.
"Homework is dumb! Why do I need to read dumb books?" He shot, the king taken aback. Alfred began to hum, the child slowly crawling back into bed. Alfred cleared his throat.
"Firstly, they are bible scriptures. Secondly, you need to get the pastor's approval before you're allowed to be a squire. If you don't do this, you can't be a knight-"
"Okay daddy!" The child snapped, throwing the covers over his head. Alfred groaned, annoyed.
"Just like your mother." He muttered, Arthur shooting him a cross look. "Just kidding."
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
That morning...
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, bracing himself.
"How dare you compare Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, to that petty poet Shakespeare?" The pastor snapped at the blonde child sitting in the front row. The other children began to giggle as Julius shrugged defiantly. "Listen close young man," the old pastor started. "The word of God isn't something you should mock so readily." The blond child wasn't phased, and instead proceeded to look down at his bible. The queen groaned, Julia patting his shoulder in sympathy. Their kids were in the same bible class, Julius, despite his age, being a very strong reader: a 4 year old in a class full of 6 year olds. This was the first time Arthur has seen Julius interact in class, being approached this morning by the pastor. He had begged him to attend, hoping that his presence would make the child better behaved.
"I had no idea he behaved like this." He muttered. "Why is he so rude?" Julia bit her lip, shrugging.
"Maybe you should do something?" She suggested. Arthur scoffed.
"I'll just let Alfred handle this." He shrugged, the woman shaking her head.
"Alfred isn't here right now. You need to tame your child, you adopted him. He's a representation of the crown now." She advised. Arthur frowned, knowing full well that she was right. Arthur cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room. There were only about 20 or so kids in the room, and about 6 clergy members. The brit, dressed in Alfred's sunday clothing, walked to the front of the small group of kids. He picked up a bible, but he kept it closed as he recited.
"'If a man has a stubborn and rebellious son who will not obey the voice of his father or the voice of his mother, and, though they discipline him, will not listen to them, then his father and his mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his city at the gate of the place where he lives, and they shall say to the elders of his city, 'This our son is stubborn and rebellious; he will not obey our voice; he is a glutton and a drunkard.' Then all the men of the city shall stone him to death with stones. So you shall purge the evil from your midst, and all Israel shall hear, and fear.' Deuteronomy 21, lines 18 through 21." The class turned to that page, impressed that he had said it word for word. "The bible was a major part of my childhood, and just recently I've been reintroduced with devotion to my faith." He was fibbing a bit, only knowing the lines because he had read it when he was bored. "We should all strive to be good christians," he made eye contact with Julius, who looked at him in confusion. "But making jokes and laughing at the expense of learning the words of God will only spite you in the afterlife. No, we cannot stone you for misbehaving, but there are a wide array of punishments that can be used to discipline a disobedient child." Julius pouted. "So behave." He handed the bible back to the pastor, who took it gratefully.
~~~~Wounded KNIGHT~~~
"I said I'm fine." Alfred grunted, stretching. He was chuckling, but everyone around him was terrified. The young king had almost walked himself off the balcony, which was on the highest tower. If Marshal weren't there to grab him, he would have surely plummeted to his death. Arthur was out of breath, having ran all the way up there. Alfred was trying to tell everyone to calm down, but it didn't stop the maids from freaking out.
"Was he trying to fall?" Arthur heard one of them whisper. He sucked his teeth, rushing over to his mate. Alfred pecked him on the cheek, Arthur clinging to his chest.
"Where on Earth are your glasses?!" He shouted, the king shrugging. "What do you me-'
"I left them in the treasure room, so I was trying to get to them. I thought I was going in the right direction." He explained, loud enough for the people to hear.
"How poor is his eyesight?" Someone asked, the king pursing his lips.
"I don't know, but it's getting worse." He admitted. "I think I need another eye appointment." Arthur nodded.
"But for now, wear your glasses." He sent a maid to retrieve them. When she returned with the red glasses, Arthur put them on the other, the prince blinking rapidly. "Better?" The brit asked, the king shrugging.
"Everything is still blurry. Not as much, but it's still blurry." He complained. Arthur bit his lip, perhaps there was a spell that could help him.
"Let's just go somewhere safe for the meanwhile, alright?" The queen suggested, the king nodding.
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
Chancy gazed into the king's eyes, searching them for something. The Frenchman blew at his eyes, the king closing them briefly.
"This is stupid." He said finally, the room hushing him. Davie was currently polishing the red glasses.
"I think you're going blind." Chancy deadpanned, Arthur, who was sipping some tea, sputtering it out. Alfred didn't react, the king and the French ambassador making intense eye contact before they both cracked a smile, laughing lightly. "Just kidding." Chancy said sweetly, Alfred wagging a finger at him.
"That's not funny at all, what the fuck!?" Arthur snapped, the frenchman apologizing.
"I'm sorry." He continued to gaze into the king's eyes. "But, going blind could be a possibility." Alfred frowned, and Chancy explained. "Were you recently cursed?" Alfred shook his head. "Were you cursed within the last year?" he asked, the prince shaking his head.
"I was never cursed." He asserted, the brit making a sound of doubt.
"I don't think that's true." He stood up from the couch. "Remember that death curse in the Fortress?" he asked, the prince shaking his head. "Well, do you remember your elf ears on the boat?" He asked, and the king's eyes lit up in shock, turning to Chancy.
"I was cursed!" He corrected, the Frenchman nodded slowly, walking away.
"So, it must be the last of the curse trying to kill what it can. I'll just make you some medicine to counteract it." Chancy started, the prince humming in gratitude. The brit had a sneaking feeling that wouldn't solve the problem.
"But," he started. "Would it work on non-humans?" Chancy quirked a brow.
"Are you sick too?" he asked, the brit shaking his head. Alfred hummed.
"That's a good point." he admitted. "Would it help a lycan?" he asked, Chancy staring at them in confusion.
"It should work for anyone... wait," he turned to the king. "You're a lycan?" He looked shocked, as expected, and the king nodded. "Woah, I've never met one before!"
"Well then today's your lucky day!" Davie said, the first thing he's said. Chancy ignored him, walking over to his workbench and beginning to make the medicine.
"Sweetie, can you pass me that thing?" he asked, Davie shooting him a confused look. Chancy groaned. "That thing you always use when you grind things up."
"The mortar and pestle?" Davie asked, handing the small bowl and pounder to the frenchman. "You're welcome." He muttered, the omega shooting him a dirty look.
"Not now, Davie." He muttered, the alpha sighing, muttering something under his breath. Davie walked over to his best friend, a hesitant smile on his face.
"Do you eat rabbits? I mean raw?" The doctor asked the king, who chuckled tiredly.
"I hunt them down whenever I get the chance. The baby ones taste the best!" he joked, the queen gagging. Davie made a face as he laughed.
"Ewww!" He started. "Can you transform at will?" he asked, the king pausing for a moment.
"I've been practicing, but I can only ever manage to transform my arms." He held out his arm, pulling up the sleeve. He clenched his muscles, blonde fur sprouting from his skin, his nails elongating and sharpening. Davie and Chancy were at a loss for words, watching in awe as his arm shifted.
"HOLYSHITOHMYGODYOUARESOCOOLICANNOTBELIEVETHISOHMYGODOHMYGOD!" Davie began prodding at his arm, squeezing and lifting it. "It's so heavy!" he was excited now, the poor researching having nothing much to do for the last few weeks. "Would you mind donating some blood? I want to see if it's distinguishable from human blood." Alfred shrugged. "It's not alot." He assured, rushing to his desk to get a small flask and a small scalpel. He returned to the king, who still held his arm up, pressing the sharp surface against his skin, drawing blood. The warm red liquid slid into the flask, maybe about 3 ounces being collected before Davie began applying pressure to it. "That should do." He returned to his desk, topping the flask, and offering some sterilizer for the wound.
"I'll be fine, I'll just lick it." The king waved him off, but the queen shook his head, instructing Davie to apply it on the wound. The 2nd in command did so liberally, the King chuckling. "It tickles." He mumbled, Davie snorting.
"That's what he said." He snickered, the king snickering along with him, leaving the two omegas mildly annoyed. Chancy, who was in a particularly bad mood, cleared his throat.
"I'm a busy person," He started, "Now please." He grabbed the paste, which he had put in a small jar. He handed it to the king, shooing his mate away. "Rub this on your face at night, every night, until its done. You should be able to receive results fairly quickly, but if you don't... I have a friend." The King nodded, looking down at the pink cream. It smelt of lavender.
"A friend?" He questioned, the frenchman shrugging.
"My mother, really." he explained. "She's been alive for centuries, she'll know what to do if all else fails." The king nodded, turning to Davie.
"Does she like you?" He asked to start conversation. Davie paused for a bit, a thin smile spreading across his face. Chancy stiffened also looking at Davie, an unreadable expression.
"We've never met." He said tightly, and obvious lie. His mouth and left eye twitched, the knight's telltale signs of dishonesty. Alfred quirked a brow, but the knight just gazed at him, with albeit hurt eyes. The King just decided to drop the subject.
"Well, that's too bad." He turned over to Chancy. "It's only appropriate to introduce your parents to your mate." Chancy looked taken aback.
"With all due respect, your highness." He started. "I know what my mate can and can't handle, and he cannot handle my mother. At least not yet." He explained. "She'll feed on his kindness, and I wouldn't be able to stop her, even if I tried. So, it's easier to just prevent her from coming." He said vaguely. Davie stood up, stretching.
"I'm gonna pick up Geoffrey." He declared. Chancy gave him a small peck on the cheek, the alpha huffing. "Is that all I get?" he asked playfully, the frenchman smirking.
"Later, I promise." He said with a slight blush. Davie nodded and he left, on a journey to Julia's room to get the child.
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
Arthur and Alfred sat silently in their bed as Julius did his homework on the couch. The child was in trouble for his behavior in bible study, the queen telling his husband about what had happened. The child was obviously annoyed, mumbling under his breath, just loud enough for them to hear his tone, but not his words. Every now and then Alfred would hum, and the child would grow silent, but Julius would always start talking again. After the 5th time, the king had had enough.
"Julius," He snapped, the child slowly turning to glare at him. Alfred glared right back at him, unblinkingly. Arthur groaned, not really caring about what was about to happen. "For the last time be quiet or else." He warned, his son huffing. "Julius, I'm serious." He said sternly, the child groaning.
"I didn't even do anything." He grumbled.
"I can tell," Alfred started. "Your page is probably blank." Julius stiffened, and Arthur narrowed his eyes. There was no way Alfred would be able to see that from there, but the way the child froze made it obvious he was right. "You've been there for an hour, and you did nothing. You're only wasting your own time."
"Bible study is a waste of time." Julius proclaimed, the king closing his eyes. "It's dumb, God isn't real. Miracles aren't real." He stood up, kicking away the bible. "I don't wanna read about fake things! I wanna read about fun things." Alfred scrunched up his nose, closing his own book. Arthur grabbed his forearm, in a weak attempt to calm him down.
"Come here." The king commanded, the toddler stomping over. Julius stood defiantly beside the bed where his father sat, eyeing him with contempt. "What's wrong with you?" he asked harshly, the toddler pouting. Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but Alfred continued. "Why are you getting so fussy?" He said softly, catching the others off guard. Julius shook his head.
"I'm not!"
"Yes you are." Alfred scratched his chin. "You just kicked the bible, and called organized religion stupid." He pointed out, the child looking him up and down. "You're upsetting me." The toddler looked down. "This is very disappointing behavior, and I am beginning to regret not being more strict with you." Arthur bit his lip at how calm Alfred was, and noted the deterioration of Julius' resolve and attitude, replaced by red cheeks and red eyes. "Julius, your behavior is not fit for a prince, so you need to start shaping up, and the first place to do that is in Bible study. Apologize to your teachers tomorrow, and show that you're improving by handing in your homework." He said softly, the child shaking his head.
"No! NO! NonOnoNo!" Alfred tilted his head as the toddler bounced in place, throwing a tantrum. "I don't wanna!" he began to sob. The king frowned, glancing at his husband before pulling the child onto his lap. Julius cried there for a moment before scrambling for Arthur. The queen rocked the child softly, trying to calm his jarring cries. Alfred looked a little remorseful, the brit could tell, but the queen found nothing wrong with what Alfred said. Perhaps julius didn't understand all of the words, and assumed the worse? Nah, Julius wouldn't cry if he was confused.
"Baby what's wrong?" Arthur asked softly, the child still sobbing. Alfred ran his fingers through the little boy's hair, who in turn looked up at him, shooting his arms up. The king groaned, standing and taking the boy, beginning to slowly walk around the room. Julius cried on his father's shoulders for was Arthur felt was 5 minutes before he actually calmed down enough to speak.
"Why are you upset? Use your words, you're a smart boy." Alfred questioned, the child nodding.
"M-my old mommy and daddy didn't like religion." He answered softly, Arthur nodding his head in understanding. The brit never thought the answer would be found his past. All Arthur knew was that Julius's old home was abusive, and that his parents had set their own home on fire in order to sacrifice themselves and their 7 kids to Satan. Julius managed to escape the building with his younger sister, but she caught pneumonia the next following weeks and died. The boy was forced to join a gang of orphan kids, and was in the process of stealing bread when he was taken to the palace to live. The parents were satanists, and they would use their kids as a way to show their devotion to Lucifer, whether through beatings or cutting. Julius might still hold some of those twisted beliefs.
"But you're not with your old mama and daddy, you're with your new mama and daddy." Alfred started, Julius wiping his tears on the king's shirt. "We took you in to be our son, so you never need to worry about what your old parents might think of your actions. They were bad people, and they did bad things to you and your siblings. They forced you to participate in bad things. Now... I won't force you to be a practicing protestant, but you at least need to be baptized."
Julius sniffled to himself as Alfred passed him over to the queen. "Sweetie," Arthur started. "We love you, and we don't want to make you uncomfortable." Julius nodded, regaining his composure. "Just know your old parents can never hurt you again. They cannot control your life any longer. With that being said, now that you are in a safe space with people who love you, you can be a little more open minded, and willing to try taking in a little bit of bible study." Julius nodded, defeated. "So stop crying, mommy's gonna make it better." The queen shimmied down on his back, tucking the child in beside him. Julius curled up onto his side, breathing shakily. Alfred left the room for a moment to order food, and came back quickly. He silently slipped into bed and stroked Julius's hair, the child crawling over to his father, resting his face on his chest.
"I don't wanna go tomorrow." He said suddenly, the king pursing his lips.
"Okay." He figured he'd be a bit more lenient considering the little fit. "You'll spend the day with me."
