Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Don’t die on me. Don’t - please.”

Toris could barely hear anything other than his own harsh, heavy breaths as he pressed his hands over and over again into his septmate’s chest, palms slick with blood. 

“You need to- She’s bleeding through. Even if we layer another strip of fabric on top, she’ll-”

“Stay with me,” Toris hissed. If he hadn’t felt his own lips move, his teeth tremble with adrenaline, he wouldn't have been sure he had said it at all. “Stay - you can’t die here!”

“Toris-”

“Eduard, now. Put your hands over mine and do your best. I need to go back out there.”

“But your back wound’s opened up. You’re our deputy, I can’t let you go!”

“Even more so that I have to get back out there,” Toris got back to his knees, using the blood-soaked rock he had been hiding behind to stand. “I’d stay if I could help her, but…”

The lingering silence was a space that did not need to be filled by words. Eduard looked at him, his rheumy green eyes reflecting his own thoughts, then returned to his fallen septmate. Toris had to push away his brown hair, fingers nicking on the braid tied into his ponytail, bringing away with it encrusted blood on the tips.

Staggering to the middle of the battlefield, ducking underneath lances and whirling limbs, Toris pulled out his blade - but not to fight.

“Stop!” he shouted. Though the man was young and a little on the leaner side for an Alpha, his presence was something both members of the tribes knew to not underestimate. The deputy held his breath, and to his relief, all movement seemed to stop. 

Another Alpha from the other side of the stream strode forward, baring her teeth.

“Are you surrendering, deputy of the Sept?” Each word of Toris’s tribal title was spat out like it was venom.

“Don’t mistake my words for weakness,” Toris retorted. He tightened his grip on the base of his blade - then slotted it back into its sheath. “We have just lost another septmate.” With a tilt of his head, he gestured to the rock where Eduard was crouched over their septmate’s body.

“This is what happens in battle. We’ve lost two of our own, too.”

“Is that not enough?” Toris raised his voice and moved as he spoke, making sure every Alpha on the battlefield could hear. “Is that not enough? Two from each tribe, dead over a border dispute, when the cold looms over us all? Have you all already forgotten the tolls of the frostlung just last winter?”

“It’s too late to turn back now. What are you-”

“Stop this fight. Too many have lost their lives today, for your side and for ours.”

“And are you, the great deputy, so arrogant to think we will humbly lay down our weapons and leave this side of the river to you?”

With a snarl, Toris turned back to face his enemy, “No - but we do not have to decide our borders through any more unnecessary bloodshed either. Frostlung will rip through our camps again if it can, leaving our bodies weak. Twelve moons is not enough to heal from the memory, causing more death, more pain. We-” 

He took one deep breath. What he was proposing was radical, as the tribes had always fought as a collective against the other. But he’d already lost people under his watch today, and as the Sept’s deputy, he couldn’t afford to lose another.

“We will undertake a duel. One round of combat for the gods to decide today’s victory.”

“A duel?” came a scoff from the other side.

“Yes. A duel. I will fight whoever your Clan chooses, one on one. The victor keeps this slice of land until the next fight.”

“And what if we decide to come back the very next day?”

Tightening his grip on his sheath, Toris let all the disgust he was feeling in that moment show on his face, but that was all the aggression he allowed himself to express.

“Do you…Clan members truly show that little respect for your dead?”

There was a hushed murmuring around the glade, only undercut by the rushing of water near them. Toris made sure to stay as still as possible, trying not to look behind him, at Eduard and his dead septmate.

After a moment, the first Alpha who had acknowledged Toris lifted her chin.

“Very well. Though we barely see eye to eye with your Sept, one thing we can agree on is the loss of life. For that reason, and that reason alone, we accept your offer. We will submit our own champion in five minutes.”

At that, the fighting parties dispersed. Toris immediately went to help his fellow Alphas to their feet, making sure that the enemy Alphas did not attack them unprovoked. For now, for the rest of them, the battle was over.

“Toris, you’re hurt - you can’t fight the other Alpha. It would be a devastating blow if we lost you. Please, my deputy, let me fight in your place.”

“Thank you,” Toris said. It felt much easier to talk now that acid wasn’t scorching in his stomach. “It means a lot. But this is my duty. Dietrich and everyone else in the Sept, put their faith in me when they chose me as deputy.”

“But, Toris-”

“I will state my intentions for this to not be a fight to the death.”

“Toris, we can’t take them at their word - they’re savages!”

The Alpha hesitated at that, but could only nod once. “I know that. But it is our best chance without us losing another life we cannot afford. By laying down their arms out of respect for the dead, I believe that they will honour this agreement more loyally than most. Please, even if they do not honour their word, you must not break ours. The fighting will stop, and if the Clan do not obey their promise, we must leave it to the gods to punish them. Eduard.”

His close friend raised his head from where he was still crouched over their dead septmate. “Yes?”

“If the…if the worst comes to worst, I want you to personally report to our leader when we return. Do not seek vengeance for me, I can’t have any more bloodshed today. Do you understand?”

Eduard nodded morosely. “May the gods protect you during the duel.”

More voices of his septmates rose in support.

“You can defeat any one of those savages!”

“You’re one of the strongest warriors in the Sept, there’s nothing to fear.”

“Claim victory for our Sept!”

Toris allowed himself to smile, allowed himself to hold his septmates close for what might be the last time. Then he noticed the commotion of the enemy tribe die down opposite them, and knew it was time.

Taking a deep breath, he thanked them all before returning to the middle of the glade, treading on bloodied grass as he walked. 

“Have you chosen, then?”

“Yes, we have.” 

Toris’s eyes fixed on one of the tallest Alphas in today’s battle formation, a blond Alpha with wild hair and a cruel battle axe near the front of the pack. He had heard tales of the unruly warrior, how he had cut through stone sharpening his axe, feared no beast, even dared to wrestle a bear alone.

But to his surprise, it was not him, nor one of the more senior Alphas that rose to meet him. 

A younger Alpha moved from within the crowd. The brief sunlight caught on his honey blond hair as he was pushed from the back to the front, his grip on his sword swaying. Toris watched it wobble in his large, clumsy hands for a moment, and did not know what to say. Did the Clan not understand that the battle could possibly determine who would hold the precious territory during the scarce moons of winter, where during unlucky moons, tribes could very well starve to death? It surely was only three, even two more moons until the treacherous season was upon them. So why would they send out an inexperienced fighter, especially one who did not seem like he was too eager to fight? 

Still, that was not Toris’s business - his business was to afford his Sept this precious territory. It was a markedly unfair fight, but what could he do? Drawing out his sword, he let the sound of the metal ring against the trees before he spoke, to ensure everyone in the glade heard.

“This is not a fight to the death,” he warned, staring right at the other Alpha, whose blue eyes glinted in response. Toris couldn’t help but be impressed. Clan members, no matter how many moons old, had been shy to approach the deputy when they saw him for the first time at Gatherings, given that his reputation preceded him and he was part of the Sept’s leadership. “There will be no more lives lost here today. In my honour as an Alpha, and as the deputy of the Sept, if I feel that I am to be defeated, I will willingly surrender. I will not strike to kill.” 

Too formal for his liking, but it was the best guarantee he could give.

“Me as well,” the other Alpha declared. His voice was surprisingly mature; he must have been quite strong, other than the fact that practically no battle scar marred his tanned skin. “I’ll be prepared to accept a surrender. I doubt you want to die today.”

“It’s good that we’re clear.” Unsheathing his sword, Toris moved into an attack stance, ignoring the youngster’s taunt. “Let us proceed.”

The strap underneath Arthur’s upper chest had been irritating him all morning, but it didn’t matter much now. The hunt was almost over. 

Dusk and lime played against his prey’s scarlet feathers from the trees overhead as it pecked at the ground. The pheasant lifted its neck to scan its surroundings, blissfully unaware. Seeing no one, it continued. One foot, leaving a print that could be blown away by the autumn wind; another. 

Arthur notched his arrow into his bow, drawing the string back slowly so that there wouldn’t even be a hint of noise. The rustling of the leaves hid the shifting of his fingers. 

The pheasant stretched out its neck as if to peck at a blade of grass, then it was all over. One clean shot to the neck, and the bird was dead.

Arthur didn’t even hesitate, swinging his bow back across his shoulder, readjusting his arrows, then climbing down from the tree. With one jerk of his arm, he removed the arrow, fixing the pheasant to his belt. 

The Omega lifted the harsh material of his belt with his thumb as he scratched at the pink spot underneath his chest strap, stopping just before his nail broke the skin. It would be better if he didn’t have to heal himself; he hadn’t gone out herb collecting for a half moon now.

Brushing away a stray feather from his thigh, he was about to scale another tree when he saw a group of people crest over the hill closest to their camp. He raised his head, opening his mouth slightly for the scent - Sept, Alpha. Was it the group of Alphas sent out to recapture the glade territory, the party that had left at the crack of dawn?

All plans for his next hunt gone, Arthur quickly made his way across the forest, readjusting his bow mid run so that the taut string didn’t cut into his chest.

“Arthur!” One of the Alphas recognised him, waving. There was a cut on her arm, but it didn’t look very deep, so there wasn’t much cause for alarm there. “Thank the gods you’re here.”

He had to ask. “Did we win?” 

“Yes, we did, you should have seen what Toris could have done to that Clan member! But - are you hunting now?”

“I was going to add a little extra game for the evening meal, seeing that it’s only an hour or so until dusk and the last hunting patrols should be returning soon.” Arthur looked above them for a moment, pausing at the stench of blood. Though he was used to it as a healer, he expected  it in the medicine den, not out in the open. “What happened?”

“We- More casualties than usual. We lost two Alphas today, the same goes for the Clan.” There was no joy in the Alpha’s voice, a sentiment that resonated with Arthur. After all, what sort of human would find joy in death, even in an enemy’s? “They’re still as high strung as ever - winter, and the threat of frostlung, keeps us all on edge.”

“We would have lost more if it wasn’t for Toris.”

Arthur only nodded. The deputy looked quite worse for wear, so he wanted to cut the victorious talk for later. “Do you need help carrying our septmates home? Does anyone need medical attention?”

“Toris got hurt quite badly, but he’ll be fine. Other than that, the rest of us will last to camp, there’s a second party back there who volunteered to help with the dead, and Francis can manage the rest. We don’t want to disrupt your hunting.”

“I’ll be all right, Arthur,” Toris said, nodding weakly from where he was propped up between his septmates. “Just need to…just need to get home. Hope you’re not busy.”

“No, no, it’s…well, yes, I was busy until I shot this fellow,” the Omega gestured at the pheasant, garnering a few laughs from his septmates. “It’s all right. I’ll come back with you to camp, drop this bloody bird off, then bring a few herbs and dressing just in case. We best be off.”

“Sure.”

By the time they arrived at camp, the meal preparation by the remaining Alphas who’d stayed back that morning had started to waft in the air, enough to chase away the metallic sting of blood in Arthur’s nose. He helped Toris and the others to the medicine den, then placed down the pheasant on the pile, getting a thanks from one of the Alphas on cooking duty, who assured they’d prepare it for the meal.

By the time he fully returned to the medicine den, Francis was working on Toris, spreading a poultice Arthur had prepared that morning on the worst of the deputy’s injuries. To the Alpha’s credit, it seemed as if he was taking the pain in stride, despite having a mix of comfrey and dock leaves being slathered on him - Arthur didn’t even need to see the treatment to smell the mixture.

“Things are under control,” Francis announced as soon as the willow curtains shifted, parted by Arthur. “Now, Toris, if you could stop our septmates from extolling your virtues for a moment, it would be most helpful, no? Good, your forehead’s not burning up. Turn over now.”

“No, no, Francis, I’ll let them celebrate their victory for now,” the deputy half laughed, half winced as the Beta healer placed a strip of wet cloth around his poultice and wound it tight. The sick bed was positioned right underneath a foliage of sunshine. “Surely you won't mind?”

“My, I think you almost sound too excited for your injury to scar! What happened to the level-headed deputy we all know and love- Oh, mind yourself!” Francis was cut off mid-sentence by Toris’s direpup, Vilnius, pushing her wet nose into the Beta’s side. “How many times have we trained you, dear? No direwolves in the healer’s den, even if you’re just a pup!”

“Francis,” Arthur called. He’d removed his hunter belt and was shrugging on another robe over a fresh tunic as he put both pieces of clothing on. “I’ll look after the second patrol. They told you they were coming, right? Hello, Vilnius.”

Arthur’s fellow healer sighed melodramatically, turning to where he was. “Yes, yes, of course. You’re going to need a pouch to store the herbs and the wraps and whatnot. Are they going over the foot of the west mound?”

“Yes - ow! Yes, they’re going through there.”

“Hold still, dear Toris. Anyway, yes, there should be a pond near there. If you need some water, you can find it there. Could you please ask your lovely direpup to leave for now?”

“She’s guilty she wasn’t there with me,” Toris petted her between the ears. “I wouldn’t take her, she’s too young. Vil, I’ll see you later, all right?”

“That’s good. Now please send her out.”

Arthur could barely resist a snort at Francis’s dismissive tone, something he had long grown used to ever since he’d begun training with him as  a fledgling and Francis a young full-fledged healer. “Are you certain you can handle all these Alpha pheromones in your den?”

“It’s one of the few perks only I have, being the only Beta here,” came the reply. “Now shoo! Put down your weapons, you might need to help prop up someone coming home.”

Snorting as he left the medicine den, Arthur did as he was told. As he left, he could hear Vilnius’s faint yipping out of concern for her owner, and the rough cascade of Alpha voices fading behind him. One of the few miseries of being allowed to take two roles in the Sept - Francis was able to boss him around.

By the time had Arthur travelled down the beaten path to find the second party, they seemed even more in shape than the first group, save for the fact they had a tarp over two of their septmates. That meant only one thing.

Arthur knelt at the foot of the tarps, closing his eyes, sending a quick prayer to the gods for both before standing back up. 

“Are you delivering them to camp?”

“Yes,” one of the Alphas, Eduard, sounded solemn. “We were amongst the least injured, but we made sure Toris got to camp first along with our most wounded, so there wasn’t much time for discussion.”

“I brought some supplies,” Arthur offered. “If you need any assistance right now, I’ll help.”

“It’s okay, it’s just…night’s coming, and it’s best we take them back as soon as possible. Pay tribute to them before the meal, then prepare them for the vigil. Let’s be off.”

“Oh, er. I’ll just pick a few herbs before I head back.” He’d suddenly remembered that last quarter moon, Francis had asked him to help stock up before the winter, which was, for once, not a pompous request. “Since we’re already on the trail, and winter’s soon. Might as well.”

“You sure? We just fought with the Clan, and it will be dark in a bit.”

“Yes, don’t worry. No way they’ll leap across the border to challenge us further after today. Could you let Francis know I might be late?”

Eduard nodded. “If it gets too dark to head back, just bivouac for the night, like usual. If you’re not back by tomorrow morning, we’ll go searching - we know how the herb things goes.”

With that, the second party started moving back towards the camp, leaving Arthur alone in the dusk. 

It wasn’t as if it was the first time this had happened. As a healer and the Omega between him and Francis, Arthur had a born hunter’s instinct and a nimble, agile build, making him best suited for herb runs. It was where his idea of wanting to perform both the roles of a typical Beta and Omega had come from - he had pleaded to Dietrich when he was a boy to be allowed to train as a healer, having grown up fascinated by Francis and his mentor before the older Beta had passed away from age. Given that there had not been a Beta birth in the Sept for generations, which was alarming in spite of the fact that  Alphas and Omegas typically outnumbered Betas sixty to one, Dietrich had relented. After around ten moons of his training, Arthur went out for his first herb run, leaping between stones and skirting around tribe borders like he did now, with only his pouch against his hips. It was there he found his fingers itching for the weight of a hunting weapon, the ruffle of feathers against his fingers, but he still treasured the pungent aroma of the herbs, the process of watching an angry burn soften into a pink weal. After proving his capabilities in both, he was allowed to hunt as well, though he always did it alone, not with the hunting patrols the other Omegas organised. It wasn’t as if the other Omegas shunned him, rather the opposite - he just preferred to work alone, and had none of the training needed to work with other Omegas in a hunting party. 

Still, all of that had been forever ago. Now Arthur was well respected by everyone in the Sept for his dual roles, and that respect came with a lot of freedom. As long as he kept up with his duties, Francis only ever made sure he wasn't getting into trouble (and for all his faults, Arthur would grudgingly admit that the Beta was quite laid back), meaning Arthur could stay out overnight on herb runs like these. Though he really should have emptied out his pouch to store more supplies, it still would be useful to bring even a few back to Francis. If the normal herb patches cooperated or weren’t eaten to death by rabbits, he’d even be back for the evening meal. How would the Alphas prepare his pheasant? Surely they’d pluck the feathers first, then remove the bloody neck, then-

Arthur paused from where he was walking right underneath an oak tree. The blood smell from his thoughts of his pheasant hadn’t faded. His first instinct, naturally, as a hunter, was to look upwards at the branches of the tree. Even in the fading light, he could see no one up there, nor any sort of carcass laid out, to be retrieved later. Pulling his robe tighter to him, he looked downwards and saw a thin trail of blood droplets staining the dusty path. They didn’t lead into the closest lake that bordered the Sept territory, rather away from it - that was a good sign. The water would conceal the best; hence being the best place for an enemy attack. The glade was a ways away from where he was, but the colouring of the blood meant  it could have been from the remnants of the morning’s battle.

The starless dusk was not the most helpful of navigators as Arthur followed the morbid pathway, clutching his pouch close to his hip. The reek of blood was so potent to the point where he was sure he couldn’t smell his own scent, laced with mint and wild roses growing near the medicine den. In some way, he felt irritated that he only had his small knife with him - if something were to happen, he’d be essentially unarmed.

But still, what kind of healer would he be if he didn’t investigate? It might have been a Clan member, but as the trail led farther and farther from the boundaries of the tribe forest, Arthur started to doubt his thoughts. It still didn’t matter, though - if it were an animal, there was a significant chance the Omega could still retreat back to the tree line and scale a tree. The stream that fed into the pond near the west mound provided a natural guide for him to find his way back. Arthur pushed one hand into his pouch, feeling the herbs and the thin strips of cloth brush soothingly against his knuckles, then continued. Since this part of the forest was untouched by both Clan and Sept, the air smelled clearer, complemented by plants and earth rather than firewood and heat. 

It was only at the foot of a path reaching up to a sheltered cave that the Omega was able to pick up any sort of scent - the tang of blood was so strong he could barely make out any details about the wounded creature, but the signature was human, different from the suffocating thickness of the scent of a bear, different from the sourness of a raccoon. Despite the fading sunlight, Arthur could still make out the small grey teardrops that formed the stone used in Sept caves, could still touch the rain-worn edges. As he moved forward, keeping his left hand on the side of the stone where it was still smooth and not covered with thick, untouched lichen, he did his best to listen out for any vibrations that weren’t his own footsteps. 

Grass curled around the Omega’s ankles, some fronds tall enough to brush against his pouch. Usually if it were spring or summer, he would pull it away; little marigold flies would sometimes cling to the fabric, giving him and Francis a nasty surprise when they got home. One perk of the colder seasons, less little buggers. Still, the grass only gave out around halfway up the trail, meaning Arthur couldn’t see the blood droplets continuing to stain the sandy path until then. This spurred him further on - a fellow human would surely need his help.

The Omega’s light footwear let him wade into the shallow water of the river as he approached the cave, slightly moving downwards from the entrance that revealed it. Now the moon had started her lone journey across the night sky, he wasn’t able to see very clearly, but he’d also carried with him a box of firestarters, fashioned specifically by the Alphas for him and Francis to use during herb runs at night. The area he was in now was just outside both Clan and Sept territory, meaning the terrain hadn’t changed much. He’d be able to set alight a branch if needed.

“Hello?” he called first of all, wanting to establish audible contact. There was no answer - perhaps the human was too injured to do so? There was no direwolf scent, either, which meant that either the other human was an Omega and hadn’t been selected by a pup, or was a Clan Alpha. In contrast to the Sept, non-leader Omegas took care of direwolves in the Clan.

It was rapidly getting very dark, so Arthur had to make a quick detour to wrap a handful of his fabric strips and large leaves around the tip of a stick, using the flammable material he’d carried to create a torch. At least the scent of burning was strong enough to distract from the permeating scent of blood.

“Is anyone there?” 

Arthur held out the torch before he entered the cave.

A pair of blue eyes, tortured and starving in the night, stared back at him. As Arthur held out the light even further, wanting to take a look at his features, he saw more - bloodied blond hair, a mark drawn red against his cheek. A single tilt of his wrist exposed a deep cut against his well-defined chest. The smell of blood was everywhere, but there was something, something underneath that-

The Omega barely had time to register the scent of Alpha and Clan before the Alpha lunged at him, his teeth bared in a snarl that glinted in the starless sky.

Chapter Text

Despite all the Alpha’s aggressive bravado, he was still a wounded animal, and so Arthur was able to dodge to the side, saving himself from a solid chunk of muscle slamming into him. He heard a jingle of beads clashing against one another as the Alpha whirled back towards him. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur could see dirty blond hair and the dark blue colours of the typical Clan garb, making his lip curl. The other man was fortunate that it had been Arthur that had stumbled upon him instead of anyone else from the Sept.

“Come to - come to fucking finish me off, have you?” Clearly, the Alpha was seething, probably mostly from wounded pride, rather than from his actual wounds. He bared his teeth as he swerved towards the Omega. “It’s dark, and you still want to kill me?”

“Kill you?” Arthur sputtered, disgusted. His slender fingers curled around the curved base of his knife but unless the fool was stupid enough to lunge at him again, he didn’t plan to use it. Thank the gods this overly aggressive Alpha didn’t have a direwolf along with him; he might have been mauled to death by now. “Use what’s left of your scenting ability - I’m an Omega!”

“From the Sept! Who knows what those savages train you to do?”

“Are your ways in the Clan so different to think that healers kill?”

Upon hearing those words, finally, the Alpha seemed to hesitate. His boots shuffled uncertainly where he stood, and now Arthur could see clean tears in the thinner fabric that exposed cuts. Given that their rival tribe slept in a much more open camp than they did as he remembered, the Omega made a mental note to himself to be careful with his incisions, if he needed to make any. Arthur daren’t look up at his enemy’s face, straight into his eyes, lest the Alpha took it as a sign of aggression. 

“But…but you’re an Omega. You said you were.”

“Yes, and I’m also a healer.”

“...don’t get it,” the Alpha mumbled under his breath. He seemed to want to say something more, but with a cry of pain, he collapsed back towards the ground, clutching his chest. The beads of his necklace clattered noisily against one another as he jolted backwards. The once completely self-assured breaths that came from his lips now fell in haggard gasps. Arthur saw red just begin to peek out behind his palm and knew he had to act. 

Propping the torch against a set of secure boulders, angling it so even if it did fall it wouldn’t burn them, Arthur started rummaging in his pouch for materials. Now he was glad he hadn’t made Francis empty it earlier that day.

“What are- What are you doing?” 

Arthur couldn’t stifle a snort at the way he said it; how Alphas sounded so belligerent even when they had been leaving droplets of blood all over the forest floor escaped him. “Saving your life.”

“You’re an Omega, you said, but - but you don’t even have a direwolf.”

Arthur gave up, rolling his eyes. “Move your hand.”

“It doesn’t make sense, right? We share so many roles - only Betas are allowed to be healers!”

“You’re bleeding heavier from becoming agitated.”

“And where’s your direwolf - it’s the dead of night! What kind of barbaric tribe lets their most vulnerable to-”

“Currently, the idiot who is bleeding his chest out on the forest floor, leaving me a clear trail to follow, is the most vulnerable,” Arthur retorted. He was quickly running out of what little patience sympathy offered him. He would have liked to use the time to ask more questions, but if his patient didn’t stop struggling and raking his hands through his hair like that, there would be no patient to help. He could only catch a few features - furious blue eyes, a scar on the back of his forearm, the light catching on his Adam’s apple. “Now for the final bleeding time. Lift your hand away, unless you want to bleed to death with an audience.”

The Alpha glared at him, though the combative atmosphere had faded somewhat. Arthur was so close to him that he could see the conflict ripple through the man’s blue eyes, of whether or not to let Arthur close enough to either treat him or put a knife to his throat. He could barely hear his own heartbeat over the sound of the other man’s harsh breaths. 

“Your clothing’s in the way,” the Omega said, after examining him for awhile. “You should take what you can off by yourself.”

The Alpha grudgingly - from the way his teeth gnashed - tried to, but as soon as the fabric made contact with some sort of wound on his chest, he managed to get something out. 

“I can’t- It…damn the gods, it hurts!”

“I’ll have to tear a slit in it, then. If you say no, it’ll continue hurting.” 

Some garments were out of the Alpha’s comfortable reach, and so Arthur made sure his forearm was steadier than usual before making slow, deliberate cuts. He’d seen Clan members at Gatherings, so the clothing was somewhat familiar to the eye. This Alpha bore very simple patterned blue cloth that was more draped than the Sept attire, yet when he reached the Alpha’s white underclothes, they were surprisingly tight on his muscular body, gripping his biceps, though it was shredded around his chest.

From Arthur’s vantage point, fixed on his torso, he could see red staining the white, flooding all along the strap he had tied around his pectorals, holding up the rest of his clothing. Though he guessed the purpose was similar to the ones the Alphas of the Sept wore, the material was thicker, more absorbent - which was a bad sign, seeing as Arthur’s finger came back from touching it slick with blood. Depending on the injury, the Omega may need to keep it on to keep his organs together, or it might be best to remove it.

After a moment, accompanied by a pained grunt, the Alpha relented, releasing his grip on whatever stubbornness he had left. His arm slumped next to him as he watched Arthur carefully use his fingers to puncture a hole in the fabric, then tear. The Omega’s deft fingers caught on a carved charm of some sorts, which he unclipped, then immediately gave back to the Alpha when the other man growled in warning. 

The deepness of the injury on his right pectoral made Arthur wince, but he did his best to not show it. Thankfully, the area was so defined with muscle he could follow where the slash ended with his eyes, without having to touch it. The placement of it alone showed him Toris’s intent - if the deputy had intended to kill, the injury would have veered through muscle of the left valley of the Alpha’s chest, instead of cutting mostly at the right. Though, the appearance of the wound was relieving in a way; it meant that Arthur could remove the strap and not have his guts fall out of him.

Scrabbling in his pouch garnered a sharp hiss from the Alpha, but as soon as Arthur showed him the strips of fabric and herbs, he relented, at least having the decency to look away in shame. Now he could look at his hatred-filled eyes without fear of being torn apart, Arthur realised his earlier judgement was right: the Alpha had blue eyes that stood out even in the faint moonlight, a shade lighter than the water in the tiny pool that bubbled in the medicine den. A harsh laceration underneath his right cheek in addition to the-

“Lift your hair out of your forehead,” Arthur ordered, the discovery interrupting his own train of thought. There was a hint of redness underneath the hair that hung over his eyes. If the Alpha was going to puff out his very injured chest and attempt to act dominant, he’d throw something at him. The scent of blood and salt was so overwhelming that he couldn’t scent the Alpha’s intentions, anyway. 

That must have shown on his face, as the Alpha did what he was told, pulling up his honey blond hair out of his face - Arthur guessed it was that shade, at least. The moonlight made everything darker. An impressive forehead gash that looked like it was from a smaller weapon, not Toris’s sword, sat there. It looked rather formidable, but had only a half-trail of dried blood and looked treatable. It didn’t seem serious given how the Alpha’s mental fortitude seemed intact still; head trauma would be one of the first things he and Francis checked for in the medicine den. Those blue eyes still glared at him underneath his hand.

“Stay here,” Arthur said, after a brief lull. He sat back on his haunches, more thankful than ever that his clothes weren’t as loose hanging as the Alpha’s. Any blood stains would give away the game immediately. “I’ll collect some water, then I’ll rejuvenate the herbs. You’re going to need more than a few damp poultices to keep you alive.”

The Alpha merely grunted. Before Arthur left the cave, he heard a rustling and turned back for a moment to see the Alpha wrap his arms to his legs, curling within himself. The Omega wasn’t sure what to make of that. Clan Alphas were savages, plain and simple - it felt strange, unnatural, to see one so vulnerable. Or was it a trap?

Making his way to the stream and collecting water with the small wooden bowl he carried with him took mere minutes, but it must have felt like an eternity for the Alpha, who was groaning in pain as Arthur re-entered the cave. One leg was now propped up, exposing more injuries on his legs. The fighting really must have been serious for Toris to inflict those wounds - either the youngster or his fellow Alphas must have been too stubborn to surrender. If he somehow wasn’t the Alpha who Toris had faced one on one, how badly would the other fellow be hurt?

“You’re back,” the Alpha said, tone almost accusatory.

Arthur ignored him, choosing to be efficient instead and rifling in his bag for the same handful of herbs Francis had used for their battle party in the afternoon: comfrey, laurentias with their star-shaped petals, marigolds crushed to a pulp. He grasped his roll of gauze and snapped off a generous portion with his teeth - primitive for a healer, but without his usual tools, it would have to do.

Reapproaching Alfred, he had to ask. “Will you continue to be difficult, or will you let me apply this ointment on you?”

“W-What’s in there?”

“You know you have no idea what herbs do.”

The Alpha’s teeth gritted, in pain or in frustration Arthur couldn’t tell, and spoke, “Yeah, but I know you could poison me with that if you wanted!”

Arthur raised a thick eyebrow. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have already gone down the mound and left you for dead. Now move away, or I will.”

The Alpha’s voice was faint as Arthur started to apply the ointment, stained violet with the laurentia. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’ve told you plenty of times now. I’m a healer.”

“Yeah, but a healer for your tribe, not mine. Aren’t I your enemy?”

“Yes, but it’s a rule for healers to look out for any life. None of the healers in the Sept would abandon a fellow human in need, and I’m certain that rule applies to your own. Has your leader not told you to leave Betas alone when you spot them across the borders?”

For a moment, the Alpha hesitated. Arthur couldn’t stop his lip from curling in disgust. If it were true, that Berwald did not tell his Alphas or Omegas to leave their healers alone, unlike Dietrich who sought to protect the Beta healers in the Clan, they truly were-

Savages. 

“No, no, he did,” the Alpha said after the pause. Arthur stopped mid-application to look at the Alpha - now he was closer, the motion was easier. The Omega still held him at arm’s length because he wasn’t fully certain the Clan Alpha wouldn’t grab at his throat if he got too close. “I forgot - haven’t been a full-fledged Alpha for too long.”

“How long have you been one?”

“Three full cycles,” he said. 

Three full cycles of the moon? Arthur knew through Gatherings that the Sept and the Clan shared the same way of keeping time - twelve moons meant a full cycle, for ease of timekeeping. He knew that they had been talking too much already, for two people of rival tribes, but he needed to know if this was the youngster Toris had duelled.

“Were you involved in the fight this afternoon?”

The Alpha’s nod of confirmation came, but it was listless, unhappy - markedly different from the excitement that had simmered in the Sept’s camp. 

“Did you duel the Sept’s deputy?”

To Arthur’s surprise, he nodded again. Toris was friendly and considered the most reserved amongst not just all the Alphas of the Sept but the Sept entire, which didn’t tie him to the usual image of a brute. There was also the fact that he was very popular with all septmates, but then again, part of his popularity came with how fiercely he defended their tribe. But still, Toris was at least five or six full cycles older than this Alpha and therefore, more experienced. It felt strange for the renowned deputy to have fought a clearly outmatched opponent. 

“How did it…how did it happen?”

The Alpha started to talk about the dual loss of life, how Toris had stepped up and demanded a duel to disarm, not to the death. 

“And, uh, my clanmates asked for a volunteer, but there was none, so I…” he trailed off for a moment, before hissing in pain as Arthur wrapped the damp fabric around his wound again. “I, uh, uh.”

The Omega didn’t look up from his work. He couldn’t help but think of the two lifeless bodies of the Sept Alphas they had mourned just earlier that day. He hadn’t been close with them, admittedly, but the fact that they had passed right before winter still tore at him, and furthermore that there had been nothing he could do for them. “You volunteered?”

“...you could say that.”

“I need to ask. Did you- Did you kill one of the Alphas that fell today?”

He gritted his teeth before he spoke. Arthur glanced at him under his eyelashes, making sure he couldn’t see, but there was a pain to his expression that felt more than physical. 

“I fought with a sword that was half as tall as me. I couldn’t fight properly half the fight, and when I could, your deputy cut me in five different places before I could land a single strike on him. There’s a reason I’m not exactly being lifted head and shoulders back to my camp, as I saw your septmates do with your deputy.”

“I see.” Arthur secured the last wrap once more before replying. He could feel a rush of relief as he realised he wasn’t helping a murderer of one of his septmates. From the way the Alpha’s body language hadn’t shifted away to indicate an obvious lie, and the fact that the Clan’s fighting styles didn’t involve piling onto one target at once, he was rather certain he was telling the truth. A kill on a tribesperson was rare; had the winter not been looming on them, and only their enemies had lost their Alphas, this gravely injured, defensive creature would have been given a hero’s welcome back at home.

“Is that a satisfactory answer?”

“Quite satisfactory, thank you,” Arthur said, keeping his voice curt. “It’s strange, though - you may choose to call us boastful, but Toris is a renowned fighter throughout the entire forest. Surely, you know that?”

The Alpha huffed once, but didn’t snark back. “Yeah, I know, I know. The other night before a Gathering, I heard one of the little fledglings dare her clanmate to go walk up to him. Scared the kids half to death when he spotted them.”

“Well, it’s good to hear that our tribes share equally foolish fledglings.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw the Alpha grin for the first time since meeting him - then for some unknown reason, he had to look away. “Yeah. Little terrors, aren’t they?”

Arthur felt the corners of his lips rise and stopped himself immediately.

“Indeed.” 

The two of them sat in silence, only the sound of fabric stretching and tightening and the Alpha’s harsh breaths between them as Arthur worked on his battered body, moving down from his chest to attend to his bruised calves. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the moon was now overhead, giving him some much appreciated extra light accompanying the torch. 

“I - oh,” he started to say, only to be cut off by the Alpha looking back at him. Arthur had finished bandaging and dosing the wounds with his ointments, only having to do some clean up here and there. The forehead wound had looked shallow upon closer inspection, leaving only some blood for the Omega to clean up, not needing any closing thread. “What do you need?”

“S-Sorry,” the Alpha said after a pregnant pause, after their eyes lingered on one another for a moment too long. He tilted his head, letting moonlight linger on his blue eyes. “I’m sorry. For how I treated you. I was…kind of freaked out, when you first came into the cave. I was rude.”

“You were a wounded animal seeing only an enemy,” Arthur replied. He’d learned to hold his snarky tongue over time; Francis had scolded him constantly when his septmates had complained about Arthur’s subpar bedside manner. “I’ve had worse patients. Now lie down, if you…if you get too worked up, you’ll-”

“Alfred,” the Alpha blurted. Two pink spots appeared on his tanned cheeks as he said it. “I’m Alfred. I want to know your name.”

It was then Arthur realised he hadn’t asked ever for the Alpha’s name, merely thinking about him as the Alpha, nothing more.

“Arthur,” he replied curtly. Nothing else needed to be said. He could see the Alpha - Alfred - watch him intensely as he continued to wipe away the dried blood from his satiny forehead, and he wasn’t sure of what to make of it.

“You have green eyes,” Alfred’s voice had quieted a lot compared to the snarling animal lunging at him earlier. “That’s…I don't know. We rarely have people with your eye colour in our Clan.”

That was something that surprised Arthur, but he allowed himself to show it on his face. After all, if this Alpha - Alfred - had given him the vulnerability of his name first, it wouldn’t be completely fair to not reciprocate. Now the initial adrenaline of the confrontation had worn off, Arthur could sense an underlying sensitivity to the Alpha from the way he was kneading his fingers in his lap, which came as a surprise. Could they even behave like this? Arthur remembered tales from his sire, about the Clan’s jagged blades and their snapping jaws, their direwolves barking at them from across the riverbank. 

Still, what did it matter to Arthur? He was a fellow human being, not a friend. He cared nothing for his opinion; only for whether he would still be breathing at the end of the day.

“It better not repulse you.”

“No,” Alfred said, his words breathy as they had been when he had doubled over with pain - yet the ripple in his eyes wasn’t full of anger as it had been. It felt strange. “No, it doesn’t. It’s just…I don’t get it. You’re from a rival tribe - we killed two of each other this afternoon. And yet you’re helping…you’re helping me now.”

“I’m a healer, Alfred,” Arthur said, as if it would push away the Alpha’s curious gaze. His own fingers felt abruptly hot on the other man’s bloodied forehead, and he hurried to finish the task. “It’s what I do. Don’t take it personally.”

After a few more minutes, the last gash was cleaned and dressed. Arthur’s work was done for the night.

“Are your clanmates coming to fetch you?”

“I’m, uh. I’m not sure. Since it’s late, and maybe…maybe they’ll come up with a search party in the morning.”

“Fair enough. Don’t scratch at your dressings too much, or you’ll reopen the wound. I, erm. I must be getting back. I’ll leave you a few supplies there,” Arthur pointed to the now flickering torch, taking a moment to pause for breath. “Should be enough for you to rest it off.” Would be a waste if you died after I couldn’t administer care. 

“What’s…what’s in there?”

Arthur tried to resist snorting. For all his foolish Clan bravado, the Alpha was clueless. “Typical herbs for warding off infections - laurentia, comfrey, dock leaf, that sort. Tell your healer what you’ve had when they come to find you. Tomorrow morning, if your clan patrol is as neurotic as mine, they’ll be there for you.”

“Mm, got it. Neurotic as - I mean, I know what that word means, what does that mean?”

“That’s when- That happens when, sometimes when I’m running late on a herb supply run,  I end up far away from the camp.” Arthur chose his words carefully so as to not reveal any unnecessary information. “I’m allowed to bivouac for the night, but if I don’t return home by sundown the next day, my Sept sends a patrol after me. It’s a little silly, I suppose, but they mean well.”

“Oh,” Alfred said. A shadow passed over his face, or was it something Arthur imagined? It could simply have been the moon, stealing for herself a rare cordial meeting between two bitter enemies. “That’s nice of them. But don’t worry, I'll be fine on my own. With the stuff you left me.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to go fetch someone from your Clan? Seeing as you said your leader told them to not attack a healer, and surely your Clan will be worried-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Alfred said quickly. A tiny shake of his head betrayed his nervousness - or was he too proud to accept more of Arthur’s aid? Typical Alphas, typical Clan members. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to cause an incident; I’m sure people at camp are shaken tonight.”

Shaken enough to somehow not escort you back to camp with them? Or did you flee because you were ashamed of your defeat?

As much as Arthur wanted to press for answers, he was starting to become exhausted himself, and if he didn’t head off soon enough, the forest would get too cold for travel and he really would have to bivouac. Next to an enemy Alpha. With only a plant harvesting knife in his pouch. Though one perk of the winter arriving was that the forest had started to become uncomfortably chilly in the late evenings, meaning there was practically zero chance Arthur ran into a bear in the middle of the night. 

“Well, all right, then. I’d best be off.”

With that, he withdrew from the cave, scooping up his pouch then affixing it back to his hip. As he lifted his green- dyed cape over his head - the temperature had already dropped from when he had first found the enemy Alpha in the cave - he thought about leaving the garment with the Alpha, but decided against it. Not only would it be most likely declined, given the innate pride Alphas carried in their blood, but having a Clan patrol come upon him asleep in a garment once worn by an enemy Omega would cause more trouble than it was worth, even though Arthur was sure he himself wouldn’t get into trouble.

He started to walk along the river to follow a path to the mound back home. Dipping his hand into his now mostly empty pouch, Arthur resisted the urge to groan. He’d been in the cave with the Alpha for a while; though the scent of herbs was there, he wasn’t sure if the scent of the enemy was on his skin too. 

Deciding not to take the risk, he knelt next to the river and squashed a handful of herbs inside the water, dipping two fingers into the paste and liberally applying it to his neck, his shoulders, where any Alpha scent would stick to him like burrs, really. It would especially cling, since he was an unmated Omega. The herb scent  would wash all suspicion away - after all, he slept in the medicine den. No one would have any reason at all to challenge a healer that smelled of herbs.

Chore done, Arthur started on his path home, pouch emptier than before he left it. He managed to get back in time to participate in the night vigil for the fallen, but throughout the ceremony, his fingers were tingling with the satisfaction of treating a patient. 

Even if the patient was the enemy.

Chapter Text

By the time the sun first touched the edges of the Sept’s camp, Arthur and Francis were already sorting herbs for the day. Usually, they would wake up a few hours later, but as there were two septmates to bury that morning, there was more preparation that had to be done. Thankfully, both of them slept well - nothing important had to be communicated to them from the gods that night. 

“I know we fell asleep before we could discuss it, but did you manage to find any herbs last night?” Francis said as he was roused from his bed, sounding crankier than he usually did when Arthur woke him from his so-called beauty sleep.

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Arthur confessed. For once, he actually meant it. It wasn’t as if confessing the truth was a bad idea. They weren’t running dangerously low on stock, but the fact was that curing an enemy Alpha wasn’t exactly the best thing for their stores. “The threat of winter’s been getting to our plants, too.”

“I see. Well, you’re right in saying it’s because winter’s coming soon - these things happen. Our patch is still doing well, so if the worst comes to worst, we’ll still have that to fall back on.”

“I can go herb gathering again today, if you’re not having trouble with the patients.”

Francis waved him away with his right hand as he washed his face with his usual clean towel. “No, no. I mean, yes, herb gathering is a good idea, given that there’s nothing too severe about the injuries; nothing abnormal.” He continued to speak quietly as Arthur peeked into the space reserved for the patients - to the Omega’s relief, there were only six or so out of the party of eleven yesterday, all of them fast asleep. “Our dear deputy’s the worst. I think it’ll take a quarter moon for him to be back on his feet again. Reopened the scar on his back.” 

“What about the rest?”

“They’re all right. Before the preparatory vigil, I rechecked them all - their wounds weren’t serious, just some cuts. I sent them back to their dens. Less overcrowding.” Francis started tying up his glossy hair in a ponytail as he snorted. Arthur blamed the fat belt of fish they’d eaten last quarter moon. “Goodness, the Alphas snore like no tomorrow, did you know that?”

“Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy it? You-”

The thing that cut off Arthur’s laughter was Francis flinging the wet towel at his face. 

“Oi, that was uncalled for! You bleeding frog-”

“Now now, if you raise your voice, you’ll wake up our patients. Let’s get to work - watch where your fist is going in my beautiful face!”

By the time the family and friends of the two fallen Alphas had finished paying their tribute and the chosen group took their bodies to their final resting place, normal life was resuming in the Sept.

In Toris’s absence, Dietrich had taken on most of the duties himself, his direwolf striding alongside him as he’d walked out that morning. As the winter approached, the need for Sept unity was more crucial than ever. If it weren’t for the braid worn in his hair, he looked just like any other Alpha in the crowd of patrollers ready to leave the camp. His braid was one of two in the Sept, as only the leader and the deputy of the Sept wore braids - the extra time and effort it took to embroider it in their hair every morning was said to allow the leaders more time to think about the way they were guiding their tribe. There were many a fable told to youngsters in the nurseries about leaders becoming too vain, too powerful - and the serious, no-nonsense leader wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Even now, before he was about to leave on a patrol, he was still making sure the last two Omega hunting patrols were being sent out correctly. 

“I’d like you to go to the south,” Arthur heard him say as he and Francis were re-emerging for a late afternoon meal after having to return to the den for a morning check of their patients. “We’ve not sent patrols there for three days, and the prey should still be running there. Have any groups been assigned to start preparing our stash for the wintertime?”

“Yes, Dietrich,” one of the Omegas said from out of the group. “Do you want to come with us to see how the food store is coming along?”

The group were all sporting the same hunting strap Arthur used when he went on his solo hunts; it was best to secure both the bow and quiver, along with the hunting bags mostly used for longer hunts on groups. Arthur didn’t need one as unlike the patrols, who could coordinate to take down numerous deer, he dealt in mostly medium-sized game he could take home in one afternoon. The clothing was the only thing they had in common. 

The leader raised his hand slightly, palm vertical. “That won’t be necessary today. I’d like to come with a patrol tomorrow, though - see how the store is holding up now we’re rationing food away for it.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll gather five hunters for a mission at sunhigh tomorrow?”

“It’s settled, then. May the gods bless you with your hunt.”

“May the gods bless your patrol.” With that customary greeting, they were off, leaving a now quieter camp in their wake.

“I’m a little surprised Dietrich still hasn’t asked you to join a hunting team rotation,” Francis remarked as he watched them all go off. “I mean, your hunting skills are the same.”

“I know what the bargain was when I took it, and I’m perfectly fine with it if it still enables me to hunt,” Arthur said as the two of them went over to the eating table and the dying fire, where five bowls sat, still kept warm by the coals. Two direwolves were frolicking around the area, no doubt having been asked by their Alpha partners to watch over the food. “Oh - that must mean three elders haven’t eaten yet.”

“It’s to be expected, it’s getting colder after all,” Francis said as he went over to the already stocked water bucket, waiting until Arthur had moved the bowls away before putting out the fire. “The Alphas know our next stop after a meal is usually them if there are no critically pregnant Omegas, anyway. Right, well, we’ll be eating with them today then. Come on, you two,” he bent over to ruffle the direwolves’s heads, “you're off duty.”

Arthur saw the tiny drumstick of a pheasant in the midst of corn and leafy greens, and felt his mouth water. 

He placed the bowls, the spoons and the blunt knives on top of the thin, wide piece of wood that was used for carrying meals around camp to those who couldn’t reach the eating table, then set off. For protection in case of a very unlikely raid, the elders’ den was situated near the back of the camp, where tall trees made it near-impossible for a sneak attack. Unlike his and Francis’s medicine den, one of the few caves that were repurposed for a home, the elders’ den was made out of strong wood logs, with gaps left for woven fabric that could be opened to let in air and sun during the day, then sewn shut at night. This cool afternoon, only one was left open. 

“Arthur, Arthur!” The elder that was closest at the door waved him in once he knocked with his foot, quite eagerly once he saw what the Omega had brought to the den. “Good to see you.”

“How are you all today?” Arthur said. He wouldn’t use any joking greetings with the elders on a vigil sunrise; they would surely scold him for it. 

“Doing as well as we can after the vigil,” another elder was the one to answer him. “Couldn’t go outside to eat…it’s not right to sit at the table making merry when we’ve had to bury two of our own.”

“Savages. Killing two of our younger ones before the winter. They knew what they were doing.”

“Did you send the wolves away? There’s already so little of them here in the Sept - can’t hurt to give their ears a scritch.”

“Of course - we all have to eat, after all. If they get hungry, as sweet as they are, who knows how much they’ll leave us to eat? There you go.”

This was the one place in the camp Arthur really let himself feel his Omega instincts other than the medicine den and, naturally, the nursery. “Come, eat up - it’s pheasant with corn some of the other lads have harvested before the winter.”`

“Another helping of corn before the winter? Don’t my eyes deceive me. Thank you, Arthur. Are you staying?”

“If you wouldn’t mind - the Alphas in the den might be woken up after scenting the food.”

“That’s all right.”

“Is there anyone coming around later to try to help you repair your den?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too bad for now. The roof’s very tall, so it’ll be quite a chore. Come, sit, sit - ah, there you are, Francis. Join us. How are the patients?”

“Yes, yes, we heard news that our deputy was injured.”

“It’s all right, you mustn’t worry. He’s healing, and Arthur and I are managing the workload well…”

As the sun climbed higher and higher in the sky, Arthur and Francis finished up another check. 

“The elders seem quite settled in for the long winter, compared to the last cycle,” Francis remarked as he started washing the utensils. “Though they’re worried about the progenitor wolf again. And their den, but when haven’t they been?”

“There was only the one pup granted to us this cycle of the moon, and that had to go to Toris, to confirm our vote for him as the deputy, and thank the gods the pup did end up choosing him. I know everyone thinks he deserves it, but you could see how unhappy they were,” Arthur replied, looking behind the partition at the sleeping shapes of the Alphas, tuckered out after their meal. “One pup. A less popular deputy would have had our camp trembling in on ourselves.”

“After a harsh winter, it wasn’t the best omen. I hope it’s better this cycle.”

“Winning a fight like this is a good one, despite the losses. We’ll survive.”

By the time Arthur had finished mixing another poultice to be reapplied before bed, the Omega had started to look longingly at his bow.

The Beta noticed it and sighed. “It’s all right, Arthur. I’ll be able to hold down the fort, they’re all recovering on schedule. It’s not as if Dietrich or anyone’ll ask.”

“You know us healers can take care of ourselves. I’ll try to be back before the evening meal, but if the prey’s not running or the herbs aren’t going well, I might be a bit late.”

“Mm. Where are you thinking of going today?”

“The east,” Arthur lied. Really, where he was thinking of going was to the west. It wasn’t where the Omegas would be hunting, and Dietrich’s patrol was going to survey the area of land they had won the day before, not veering off out of the territory. If the patrol were around him, it wouldn’t be too difficult to evade them either - Omegas had a sharper sense of smell and were far more agile, a reason why they were hunters over the lumbering, loud Alphas. “I’m not expecting much, but hopefully that’ll work. I’ll think of something.”

“All right. Be safe. Do you want to take your pouch before you go? I’ll go give my hair a wash in the meantime.”

“Yes,” Arthur was moving to the store as he said it, making sure Francis had swished away the curtain before he took a fistful of the herbs, placing them in his pouch - then paused.

What am I doing? Taking herbs, to heal an enemy? The elder was right, after all - the Clan did kill two of ours before winter. 

But that wasn’t Alfred.

…I shouldn’t use his name.

He might not even be there. More than likely, his clanmates will have taken him home.

And can’t I just…pick some new herbs on the way there? To take them out of the stash is-

Cradling the leaves in his hands, Arthur took a breath, doing his best to clear his thoughts. Fresher herbs would certainly be a better cover story, and make it seem as if he was still contributing. Moreover, their store was plentiful enough to not worry - it would be a quarter moon or two, with not replenishing anything, that their stash would be a problem. Though most of the herbs had to stop growing on the Sept farm due to the impending winter and the Alphas feverishly harvesting what they could before the harsh winds blew over, there was still stock there. Francis had prepared a small area within the medicine den to grow the most critical of herbs cycle-round. And the spring would bring with it new hope, new help - hopefully, the gods would grant them more direpups from the progenitor wolf that visited every cycle when the first rain broke.

The Sept had all of that. Alfred - a fellow human, despite being a Clan savage - had only Arthur. 

Shaking his head slightly, Arthur placed two more handfuls of herbs, two misshapen glass jars full of water repurposed for the medicine den, and half a strip of used fabric in the pouch. He didn’t hesitate as he retreated back to the cleft where he stored his bow and arrows. He wouldn’t take from the Sept’s food store - all food for Alfred had to be hunted separately. The last thing he remembered to grab were the firestarters. 

That is, all of this was assuming the Clan hadn’t scooped him back up already. All his worrying could be for nothing. 

Arthur tied the knot on his pouch, let it bump on his carefully laced green tunic, then set off.

To Arthur’s relief, some of the blood stains from yesterday had been kicked over with sand. Was that from his Clanmates, who would definitely want to cover the trail, or was it the wind? Surely it couldn’t be Alfred himself - when Arthur had left him, he had only the clothes on his back and the fire-starting materials Arthur had given. The Omega had to collect himself after that thought to make sure he could shoot down three thick-furred rabbits before he started to make his way back to the cave, rifling in his pouch to double check his firestarters were still there. After an incident in the camp early on in his fledglingship, he knew better than to feed anyone raw rabbit lest they contract rabbit fever.

The sun was slowly starting to leap down from the sky by the time Arthur approached the cave once more, stepping across the trodden path he had gone on only yesterday. For some reason, the path felt as well-tread as one of his hunting routes, and Arthur did his best to fight off his instinct by clutching his bow harder than usual. 

Providing care for a patient wasn’t anything special, anyway. The Alpha would extend a thanks to him at the Gathering that took place every moon, they’d exchange a handshake, and that would be it. A healer was a thankless role, after all, and it should remain that way. If Arthur had done his job correctly, the cave would be empty, and this small diversion would be over as quickly as it had started.

The gods, however, were not so kind, nor were they so cruel.

Fire and rustling preceded Arthur’s entrance into the cave, telling him that Alfred was still there before he even crossed over the cave's threshold. By the time he saw Alfred’s face, the Omega had already tried to prepare himself, but as soon as he saw those eyes, large and fearful in the firelight, it knocked him completely off-kilter. Never mind the abandoned sword in the background - it was clear all the fighting spirit had gone out of the Alpha’s body.

He was meant to be an Alpha, a fearsome warrior from the rival tribe, bold and dauntless and everything that suited a man of his stature. Arthur had every reason and then some to hate him - yet as he tried to scour his mind for specific reasons, as to why he should hate Alfred specifically, he came up short. His physique did not betray him, but that vulnerability…

It was strange. Yet Arthur could not turn on his heel and leave the cave, peek in to see he was alive, be content with just leaving him the prey then retreating. He had to finish what he started. That could be his only motivation.

To his surprise, the Alpha did not follow up with brusque words, nor forceful arguments. There was one simple word that left his lips, one that rippled out against the thick air and the scent of laurentias and marigold. 

“Arthur?”

“I’m surprised to see you here still.” Arthur had to go with a neutral statement - he wasn’t even sure how to react to that simple greeting, or the fact that the Alpha still remembered his name. It made no sense for the aggression on the day they’d met to be washed away so quickly. Arthur did heal him, but he wasn’t sure with the cutthroat nature of tribal life that it was enough of a reason. “Has your Clan not come to help?”

“I’m still getting back on my feet,” Alfred said. The way he carried his words was different from the Sept, and Arthur tried to latch onto that difference with hatred, but could only muster up a curiosity. “I’d rather stay in the cave for now, before I’m sure it’s safe to get back home and stuff.”

Arthur tried not to stare too much in disbelief. Pity rushed through his throat, a sensation which he fought to push away. 

It was not because he was weak. He was human. That was the only reason.

 “Are you not starving?”

“I’m doing fine, I’m not that helpless!” Alfred exclaimed, the tone of his voice flying higher as he spoke. 

As if on cue, his stomach growled, and he shrunk back. 

“Are - have your tribe not come for you?!” Arthur shouted, because Alfred didn’t shout. It felt strange, in a room with two enemies, for such declarations to be quiet.

“No, it’s - it’s not that simple, you know,” Alfred said, knowing full well that Arthur did, in fact, not know. His voice did not rise to meet Arthur’s. “I said, it’s because I’m too injured that-”

“What kind of Clan member leaves their own for dead?” Arthur muttered, half to himself. “Surely they’re not that savage as to leave you without any sort of sustenance for an entire day?”

“No, it’s-” Alfred desperately held out his hands, Arthur could tell by the way they were trembling over the outer cone of the faint fire still alive in the background. There was no wind as they spoke, meaning that it couldn’t have been from the environment, either. “It’s - I just…you know.”

“I don’t.”

“Sometimes, things happen, don’t they? With winter approaching and losing the strip of territory, they have better priorities, right?”

“Prioritising the rescue of a Clan member, not to mention the one who fought in a duel for them...that sounds awfully high priority to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll start cooking these.”

“Wait - where did you find them?”

Arthur fought back a huff. Perhaps if the Alpha kept on asking such nonsensical questions, he’d find the hatred he was searching for. “I caught them, naturally. Now keep on inventing ridiculous excuses about why your clan refuses to rescue and feed you. Have they done anything to recover you? Sent a messenger?”

“No - no. It’s just…”

The long gap between conversation was only punctuated by Arthur rifling in his pouch for the knife he had brought, cleaning up both the rabbits, then restarting the fire. He made a mental note to take a leaf for later. With the way Alfred was talking so rapidly, he could definitely rule out any sort of head trauma, but the fact that his tribe had not made any efforts to rescue him kept on knocking at the back of his mind. Why? It made no sense.

“Arthur, I…I don’t want to say. It’s just, as an Alpha’s honour-”

“Stop being proud,” Arthur said harshly, not wanting to stop the exhale that slipped out of his lips. “Stop. It won’t do you any favours, muddling all of this together.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alfred droop, fiddling with his sole uninjured forearm. “It’s just…pride. Pride is all I have left.”

Pride. It kept me going when my family fell to frostlung. Pride moves my fingers and keeps my head clear.

Arthur’s gaze fell to Alfred’s eyes. Though a handful of Septmates bore the colour, his blue eyes were still rare, a mark of his Clan heritage - but looking into them, he felt only understanding. 

“You have me, a healer from an enemy tribe, keeping you alive,” Arthur’s answer was curt - whether or not it was directed at himself, he wasn’t sure. “And the gods be damned, I will keep you alive. If you don’t want to talk about your tribe failing to rescue you, then we can talk about other things.” He opened his mouth, about to grill the Alpha rather harshly, but then stopped himself. In some ways, Alfred was one more person with which to improve his subpar bedside manner. “How are you feeling?”

“...uhh, okay.” There was clear hesitation in Alfred’s voice, but to his credit, he did indeed keep talking. “I’m feeling alright - uh, I mean, a lot better. The salve things you gave me yesterday really helped; there’s still pain yeah, but not a lot, not a lot.”

Arthur couldn’t help but double check; it was routine. “Are you sure? You shouldn’t hide any pain from a healer.”

“Shouldn’t I? I mean, you are from the Sept.” Alfred’s tone was playful, so different from the snarling defensiveness from yesterday. It made Arthur really remember how young the Alpha was - surely three, four cycles of the moon younger than he was. Did it really take something as simple as healing and feeding him for him to lose all of his hatred in the space of a day? Something smarted in Arthur’s heart - this sort of trust came too easily for the other man. Where had that furious defiance gone?

Even if I just did save your life, it feels strange, unbecoming of an Alpha like you. Especially one from the Clan.

“I’m a healer, as I said. Harming others goes against the entire-”

“You shot and killed three rabbits for me.” A smile played against the corners of Alfred’s lips.

“Do you want to eat them or not?!” Then under his breath, “Brat.”

Once the Omega was certain that the rabbits had started cooking, he paused to look behind him. If he really wanted to, he could wait next to the Alpha, but then that would mean having to make conversation… Then again, he should be checking on his wounds - but what if the Alpha decided to become aggressive after he started touching him again? Those ropes of muscle and the tanned, shiny skin that was surprisingly soft to the touch was…

Arthur dithered in front of the fire, not wanting Alfred to see his conflicted face. He could feel the furrow of his own thick eyebrows, the hesitation making his lips quiver. Nothing felt right about the story Alfred had given him. His own Clan, leaving him for dead? 

He had heard Toris talk about his opponent - not much, as he and Francis had to work throughout the night, but he had mentioned a youngster with blond hair, uncertainly clutching a sword. Arthur hadn’t actually fully seen a sword, but he had seen a hilt of one behind a stone. Alfred seemed as if he had been too weak to pick it up, and now with Arthur being his…

His what? Arthur pursued his lips so tightly that it hurt. What was he to Alfred? His guardian? His protector?

His…

His ally. 

The Omega’s shoulders slackened somewhat. Ally. That was a good term to use. Good and neutral.

And yet, what kind of ally sat in front of a fireplace, not wanting to tend to his patient? 

No. It meant it wasn’t right. Alfred was the enemy.

He was still the enemy. 

As if on cue, Alfred’s voice crept up behind him, in a tone that was filled with worry.

For an enemy.

“Arthur?”

Arthur had never shivered at his own name like this.

“I’m all right,” Arthur made himself say. He’d already shown too much of himself, revealed too much. “Just thinking about things. Why - why, exactly, do your clanmates behave like such…savages? Leaving you here, even though you were injured for their sake.”

“It’s not like that, they just, we…we don’t get along very well. As in, uh. They don’t like me very much.”

That very honest reply made Arthur whip around. He could still feel the heat on his face from the fire as he looked at the Alpha’s downcast expression. What was he doing?

“They don’t like you very much?”

Alfred’s blue eyes widened - so subtly that Arthur wouldn’t have been able to catch it if he wasn’t looking straight at him. They darted to the side, looking elsewhere, at the roof of the cave, at the bottom…anywhere that let him escape the truth for just a little bit longer. 

“Uh, I mean. No.”

The question fell from his lips before he’d even ironed it out in his brain. “Why are you telling me this?”

The Alpha grinned, exposing his pearly white teeth - it made Arthur’s heartbeat skid around in his chest, but it was surely because he was a predator, an enemy, a savage still. The large bandage around his forehead didn’t diminish his apparent happiness. “Just as you said, right? You’re - I have you, right?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Arthur hissed as he spoke, turning away. The idea - yes, it was true, he had said it himself, but Alfred had said it like that. As if it was something to be very much proud of, protecting an Alpha from an enemy tribe. Using his own Sept’s resources to protect an enemy. Having the enemy completely and utterly at his mercy. This wasn’t what should happen, but if Alfred was telling the truth about his own clanmates hating him, then maybe…

Arthur forced himself to shut his eyes, as if it would push away the thoughts. No, he couldn’t believe it. Alfred was young, most likely impulsive - he didn’t know what he was doing. Frustration at being abandoned by them could very quickly turn to resentment, anger. He would latch onto any soul that bothered to show him basic tribe decency.

He was - no. His own hands were too idle. The Omega had to become busy once more, to distract him from his thoughts, their words, the warmth of the fire, the scent of the cooking rabbits in the air. At least the smell of food was able to drown out the cloud of the Alpha’s pheromones, now that the tang of blood wasn’t there to protect the both of them.

“...anyway, I’d like to head back nice and early tonight, so I might as well get started on your dressings.”

The Alpha obliged almost immediately - Arthur’s heart couldn’t help but wince at that too, pushing against the hard bone of his ribs. He wasn’t sure if he wanted his Clan blade at his neck over this or not. 

Touching Alfred made things worse. Opening the bandage from the front of the forehead would risk the Omega accidentally scratching open the wound, so he settled for the back of his head. He’d tied it carefully in between his hair, but that was when Arthur was half anticipating for the Alpha to grab the knife stashed in his hunting belt and slash him to death with it, now he’d gotten the treatment he needed to return home. Now the Alpha sat quietly, his head lolling back so much in relaxation that the Omega had to scold him to resume his position, breaths resonating throughout his broad frame. His hair had been slightly drenched with water, and so it was surprisingly soft to Arthur’s touch.

Once the word soft had flitted through Arthur’s mind, he had to stop. 

Alfred was the enemy.

The enemy. Calling an enemy’s hair soft was wrong, too gentle around the edges. There was something he had to say to himself, to him, to force him to remember that this was wrong, that they would part ways solidly after this whole affair was over. He disliked him.

He hated him.

…did he?

Surely he did. He must.

Yet Arthur’s hand didn’t move away from his hair, and he felt his fingers tingle from the residual heat of his head. He let Alfred’s rasping, nervous breaths fill out his mind as their eyes met, unwavering. 

The touch lasted a moment too long. Abruptly, the two of them broke away, but Arthur found himself instinctually cupping the hand that had touched the Clan member to his chest. He daren’t look at Alfred now.

There was silence in the cave, then. The tightening of Alfred’s bandages, the curl and dip of Arthur’s fingers into his herb pouch to mix and reapply ointments, their intermingling breaths in the firelight. The smell of the rabbits grew stronger, drowning out the crispness of the falling daylight.

“Well, whatever it is you must think about us in the Sept,” Arthur offered, the silence unbearable, “we wouldn’t ever do that to a fellow septmate. What your clanmates did was despicable, savage.”

Alfred spoke, “Y’know, I’d like it a lot better if you didn’t call me that.”

“I wasn’t calling you that. I was calling your clanmates savages.”

“...still. I don’t…I don’t really like it.” 

“Suit yourself,” Arthur said quietly. He didn’t know what to say to that, and didn’t feel as if it were worth arguing over.

It wasn’t a completely confusing response, but he didn’t understand it all the same. This was the same man, the same Alpha who had lunged at him despite the multitude of injuries scattered all over his muscles and tanned skin, the sharpness of his canines exposed, glad to die fighting than to see a loathed enemy. 

And yet, his words were as sad, as bleak as his tone. Arthur dared to lean out from where he was sitting behind Alfred, and saw the whites of the fire reflected in his eyes, stung by the dryness and the combined intensity of the pungent herbs. He wasn’t looking at Arthur, nor the meal - rather, where his bandaged forearm lay in front of him.

Alfred should have grabbed him already. Thrown him against the floor, or the harsh, jutting crevices within the cave, broke his back and snarled in his face before thrusting the tip of his sword into his abdomen, ending his life then and there, if Arthur hadn’t sent an arrow through his heart yet. The added presence of the bow should have made him furious, ready for a fight. The insult should have thrown him over the edge, redrawn the lines between tribes, made them both full of hatred. Arthur had tried to remind him they were enemies, but the Alpha had merely folded his ears and refused to accept the bait. The only thing he could find of the old aggression was his stubbornness, the difficulty to get him to cooperate. It was as stark of a refusal as the dried blood on his nicked ear.

At the same time…why had his fingers tingled like that? He’d never felt that before, in all his moons of healing. He’d held together countless grisly wounds, sewed together flesh, applied and mixed poultices until his fingers had turned plumlike. But never a tingle. Never a touch where he’d felt he’d held on for a moment too long. 

Hate, in some ways, was plenty personal. Arthur knew - still knew - that if he were to return home and catch a Clan member sneaking through the territory of his beloved Sept, he’d either shoot to kill, or drag him back into the camp for Toris or Dietrich to question. The whole dispute about the glade had come from them, when they’d demanded full control for their winter hunting. Alfred had fought in that battle.

But watching the Alpha's chiselled back, his neck dithering in front of the fire, Arthur could not simply hate.

Finishing his work quickly, Arthur rubbed the last two of the dock leaves between his fingers before heaving himself upwards. The first blue strands of the day had begun to slink away, meaning if Arthur were to hunt any prey or collect any herbs, he had to get started and out of here. Alfred was pretty much set for the next day, anyway, if his Clan truly weren’t thinking of picking him up anytime soon.

“I’d better get going. Are the rabbits enough?”

“So - oh, yeah, uh. Yeah, I’ll be fine. My clanmates might be here in the morning.”

“Perhaps they’re trying to find you. Give it some time.”

Alfred pressed his lips into a thin line, and looked straight ahead into the fire. “Maybe.”

“I have to go,” Arthur said, closing his eyes. He adjusted his strap near the base of his ribcage, wishing he wanted to get away from the curious gaze behind him, wishing he would have nothing else to do with Alfred after today. “I’ll check in tomorrow if your clan hasn’t retrieved you yet.”

“But you really have to go, right?”

Don’t say it like that.

Or you’ll end up making me stay.

And we both know I can’t.

Chapter Text

On the morning of the next day, Arthur finally managed to wash away the thought of the trembling Alpha in the cave by tending to one of his favourite duties: visiting the nursery.

Since winter was approaching, there were less heavily pregnant Omegas compared to any other season as most Sept Omegas planned out their heats, which occurred every three moons exactly. Omegas could technically move into the nursery whenever they wanted, but most Omegas opted to only move in during the last three or four moons of their pregnancies. 

“Has your mate visited you? I know the patrols around the disputed area have been increased from one to two alone.” As usual, Francis had requested the Omegas in the nursery to report back to him if Arthur was brusque with his bedside manner, and so the Omega healer was on his best behaviour.

“Oh!” she smiled as she lifted her hands for Arthur to inspect her swollen abdomen. “Yes, she’s been doing so regularly. I think having the baby’s really helped her settle down, realise she’s really becoming a sire. I told her to not volunteer for the battle patrol because we’re so close to our baby being born, and for once she listened to me. You don’t usually have that with Alphas, right?”

Yeah, but I know you could poison me with that if you wanted!

In spite of himself, Arthur felt the beginnings of a wry expression lift the corners of his lips. “Well, they certainly don’t make it easy for us.”

“We’re hoping for a Beta,” the female Omega Arthur was visiting this morning was clearly in a talking mood, and he was happy to oblige. Spending time with only Francis and a den full of Alphas, getting rowdier as they were healing, was less than optimal company. Of course, there was the matter of Alfred, but that was an issue Arthur didn’t want to think about until his footsteps led him to the cave. “It’s about time, right?”

“Yes, we haven’t had one since Francis, and so we should be due for another, I believe. Are you feeling feverish this morning?”

“No, no, it’s just a bit of a frost really, nothing at all. The fevers have gone away since last quarter-moon. Then again, you and Francis are young and strong, there’s no urgent need for a Beta. As long as the baby is healthy, we’ll be content - ow, it’s certainly sore there.”

Arthur had to pause at that. “One less thing to worry about, for the tribe,” he said. “Does it hurt a lot, or is it just soreness?”

“Just soreness, I think. But other than that, I think I’m all right.”

“Excellent. In that case,” Arthur moved to the side, dipping his hands into the bowl of water he’d set up next to the pregnant Omega, “I’ll leave you here for today. If there’s anything you need, the Alphas will pop in later tonight with the evening meal.”

With an exchanging of nods, the healer was back on his way across camp. These few peaceful days before the panic of the winter set in were treasured in the Sept, especially since the elders were talking about the season staying longer than it usually did. Though they were not always accurate in their predictions, the mere thought kept the entire camp on edge. 

By the time Arthur had put away his supplies for the nursery check, Francis was concluding his inspection for the third Alpha leaving the medicine den that afternoon. Everyone except Toris had been itching to leave, and even though Francis had shaken his head and refused some of the more serious patients, those with mild cuts or bruising had been cleared from the den. Arthur didn’t mind - the less Alphas in their sleeping and working area, the better.

“Going hunting?” Francis asked, as a way of greeting.

“I might. Don’t need me to go out on another herb run?”

“No, no, there was no need, given this morning.” 

Waking up and immediately going on a herb foraging session was now Arthur’s hastily put together self-deterrent. Alfred, if he were an Alpha that possessed a brain, would still be asleep by the time he had started his herb runs, so he used that to ensure he wasn’t taking away from the medicine store.

“I might go hunting, in that case,” Arthur heard himself say. After thinking about Alfred, he seemed to momentarily fade out of his own mind, especially when he said out loud what his lie for the day would be. It technically wasn’t a lie, but no prey would be going to the food store - rather, keeping an enemy Alpha alive.

Yes, it was still a life saved, but it was for an enemy, one that confounded Arthur more than anything. And it wasn’t as if Arthur had been deliberately manipulated, either-

That thought stopped the Omega short. Alfred had been recovering, yes, but not enough to move around, do most things on his own. Perhaps he wanted to wait until he was more healed to push his blade against a now-unsuspecting Arthur’s snow pale throat.

“Oh? Well, the patrols say they expect the rest of the large prey to start hunkering down for the season soon,” Francis said, cutting through his thoughts. He didn’t seem to notice Arthur dithering in the middle of the herb store. “Just bringing something back similar to the pheasant would be good. Don’t stay out too long, as always.”

Something in Arthur’s trachea seized, and he nodded whilst coughing - his cough came out dry. Paired with his trembling shoulders, the Omega knew it was plain and simple nervousness. Despite his belief that he wouldn’t get caught, the nervousness was still there. As he scooped out some of the less fresh, but still usable herbs out of his pouch to make way for the new ones he’d collect for Alfred, he felt himself continue to shake, all over his fingers, his heart throbbing so hard it made him uncomfortable. It got even worse as he hesitated over the freshest flowers, before deciding to move away. The bandages and firestarters would still be enough, but…

Now the thought had taken root, had bloomed, Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about it. Alfred was still the enemy, he still was a savage, he still was an Alpha. That was the sort of mantra that would protect him from ruin, he was sure. If things came down to it, and he started seeing Arthur as a threat again, he would protect himself. That was normal, survivalist nature. If Arthur was foolish, and let his heart rule over his mind, he’d be devoured by the wolf in the cave. 

Alfred was merely an ally. What did he mean by that, his heart? It was just in Arthur’s nature to care, as a healer, as an Omega, as-

I have you, right?

The Alpha had smiled so wide, the fading sun filtering softly through his hair to the point that Arthur couldn’t look away. It felt strange, twisted - but at the same time... 

“Arthur? Are you leaving, or not?”

“I’m-” the Omega dry swallowed. His fingers slipped lower in his now-sealed pouch to touch the harvesting knife. “I’m fine. Just sorting a few things, don’t rush me.”

“Not rushing you, O Great Prickly One.”

“Who are you calling prickly, you…you prickly ponce?”

“My, your insults are as inelegant as you! I suggest you take a page out of big brother’s - not my beard! Go on your way already!”

If there was one aspect of his life as a healer that Arthur hated, but loved while he was hunting, it was the wait. Always the wait.

The wait, sitting in the Alphas’ den with his bearer, her telling him that she was certain that Dietrich would approve his request. The wait, at his bearer’s side, before she, too, died of frostlung, leaving Arthur alone, unable to do anything except ease her pain. The wait, seeing if a Sept member’s wound would heal or if it would take root. The wait, for the end of an endless night.

Yet something was wrong tonight, in the way that Arthur’s fingers reached into his sheath for an arrow moments after he’d sunk one into the pelt of a beaver, seeing it by the glint of its front teeth in the low light. Surely there had to be another one - beavers were good meals, but one might not be enough. Another would be good, surely…

It took him awhile, and he had to pace around the river, waiting, waiting. He’d managed to fish out the beaver fast enough to not have too much blood in the water, but the sun bore down on him more than usual. Three rabbits were enough to keep a grown Alpha alive, but if the Clan really were not coming for him, Arthur would have to feed him by himself. 

Thankfully, Arthur managed to stumble on a blackberry patch, after he’d scoured his usual areas for herbs. Though the area was close to the outskirts of Sept territory, he had been there a number of times - sweet berries were good to help disguise the taste of unpleasant mixtures. He cracked it open with his fingernails, lifting the flesh of the fruit to the sun to see if the colour was the same as the ones he usually collected, and after one quick sniff, he started placing handfuls into the pouch. Safe, as always. Those would be sufficient to feed Alfred; the next beaver or prey might not even show up by the time the moon beckoned Arthur to return home.

If he’s still there, anyway. 

To Arthur’s relief and dismay, the same smoke from the day before was making its way across the blotchy clouds of pre-winter. Alfred was still there - or was it a decoy patrol?

A bitter tang seeped onto the Omega’s tongue, and he had to readjust his hunting belt, pressing himself into a tree. Alfred, though he was still an Alpha and most likely a savage, was still- was still-

Why was he getting so worked up? Alfred had had plenty of opportunity to grab him with his good arm and strangle him, or use his own gathering knife against him. Though he was quite injured, he still was an Alpha with both a weight and height advantage on him. Within the constraints of the cave, the Omega advantage of speed and agility was diminished greatly. Alfred could have killed him by now, like he had said. So why was he…

Arthur knew. It pierced his throat, buried itself in his heart, seized his ribcage. He remembered stories that had been woven into tribe history as far as the elders spoke of it, a tale that would repeat time and time again. A reminder of what would happen if he were to look across the border for too long.

One visit to check up on a patient was basic human kindness. A follow-up check was normal for a healer. A third was establishing a pattern for him coming back to a Clan savage. Coming back to an Alpha - an unmated Alpha.

Coming back to Alfred.

The beaver tied on his belt abruptly felt as if it had regained all the heavy water in its pelt. This was how those stories always started.

But Arthur wouldn’t let himself. Those stories were a boon, a warning for any person caught in a similar situation as he was. Even someone as skilled as him, an Omega healer - surely they had existed at some point, but no one in the Sept remembered the last time an Omega had been allowed to work alongside a Beta healer - had these delusions at some point. Those tales warned him what would happen if he got complacent. With that surge, Arthur managed to push himself away from the tree, striding towards the cave once more. 

Arthur’s heart still squirmed, pounding in his chest as he ascended the slope, but he ignored it. He wouldn’t be foolish. Alfred would, at the end of all this, be an ally at most. They would never go past anything other than guarded nods at Gatherings, he was certain of it. Never.

To the Omega’s surprise, Alfred was already up and moving by the time he sighted him near the mouth of the cave, not within it. The shift of a muscular arm, the drooping down of his blond hair in his eyes, the flex of his bandaged chest, made Arthur pause where he was standing. 

“Alfred-”

“Oh - Arthur, hey!” The way he said it was disarmingly cheerful, as if he were greeting a friend instead of an enemy. The Omega felt almost sheepish for how paranoid he’d acted for nothing. 

I even spoke your name. 

Arthur’s gaze shifted to the drying strips of fabric on the flattest rocks and the armful of lichen he was carrying on him and had to ask.

“What’s all this?”

“Oh, uh, heh-” Alfred looked upwards, brushing his hair out of his blue eyes. “Nothing much really. I’m gonna be here for awhile, and so I figured I should  camouflage this place, get it fixed up a bit. There’s a bit of a draft where the rocks don’t quite reach-” he gestured back at the cave entrance, “I mean, uh, don’t quite cover it up. So I thought, now I can walk around a bit, I could make some kinda netting with the lichen. Something to do, right?”

“...I suppose. I, erm, brought you some supplies.” Arthur gestured to the beaver at his hip and his pouch. “Sit down, will you?”

“Haven’t prepared one of these bad boys in awhile! Can I?”

Arthur untangled the beaver from his belt and gave it to Alfred, who didn’t move away to the fire like he’d expected. “Pard…pardon?”

“I mean, can’t rip him apart with just my bare hands, y’know?” The Alpha was grinning again and it made Arthur’s stomach knot tight. It had to be the fear of his sharp teeth that could dig into the Omega’s neck at any moment. “You have your gathering knife, right?”

Arthur hesitated. The fear of the blade in his throat surged up again, threatened to sear his mouth. He pushed his hand into his bag, then-

“Hey, you don’t need to make that face with me.” Alfred leaned down a little to match Arthur’s height. Like this, as he was tilting his head up, Arthur could see his eyes clearly. “Arthur, you might think I’m a savage Clan Alpha or something,” he said in the Omega’s tone, and Arthur had to look away from his gaze with a scoff, “but I’d never kill someone who saved my life. Seriously.”

Arthur’s previous premonition hissed in his ear for a moment longer. What if the gods were warning him not against an inter-tribe relationship, but a betrayal? 

Then something happened that made everything grind to a halt. Alfred’s hand reached out for Arthur’s, their fingertips grazing - and the Omega didn’t let go.

Abruptly, the clouds seemed to pause in their aimless drifting, staring down at the clearing beneath them. The birdsong that accentuated the flighty late autumn faded into their last notes and did not reappear. The bubbling of the river near the cave held its breath, watched with hushed rapture as the rough skin of the Alpha’s hand curled over Arthur’s thumb and outer hand, beginning a thread of body contact. 

Yet the Omega’s hand wasn’t pinned - he could move it fully around, yank it away and slap Alfred, or reach in his bag for his knife and slit the Alpha’s chest, reopening his wound and carving it fatal. 

Instead, Arthur felt himself reach up with his fingers, the tips ghosting over the faint veins on the back of his hand, touching the clear lines of his bones. The sunlight was just above them, hanging over them so the Omega could perfectly see every detail of the Alpha’s hand, his own fingers lingering on the tanned, roughened skin and the healed cut, the hitch of his own breath as he moved his fourth finger forward.

Arthur had never really…looked at Alphas, before. Not in that sense of the word. The rule of the Sept, at least, was that as long as there was another healer on hand to assist, healers could take mates. But Arthur hadn’t been particularly interested in any Alpha in the Sept, nor had he received any unwanted attention from any of them, so the rule was nice, but irrelevant. He had never really needed to see every minute detail, given that the movement of the veins in Alfred’s muscular arm wouldn’t suggest any wound nor fracture, nor would the structure of his hands help the Omega to heal him…yet he looked.

“You’re healing,” Arthur murmured, half to Alfred, half to himself. He could barely hear the words as they slipped past his lips, but they echoed around the clearing, dallied around the foot of the cave, swam in between the faint waves of the river. “It’s- You’re getting better.”

He didn’t notice the Alpha’s gaze softening, didn’t hear the little breath he let out, but he felt the warmth of his skin slowly flooding his fingertips. 

“Hey, Arthur,” Alfred spoke as he moved his thumb so Arthur’s thumb could rest on the outside of his hand, meaning they were now clasping hands, “it’s all thanks to you. I owe you my life, I know that. Without you, I’d be dead.”

“I’m aware, it’s just - I haven’t done this before. Healing an enemy, an Alpha to boot,” Arthur said, scoffing humourlessly. He had no idea what had just flooded over him, but there were so many things to look at in the Alpha other than his sharpened canines and his burning eyes and his angry wounds now, and he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. “I, erm. I know you don’t wish to harm me, but my-”

“It’s okay. I’m new to this too, right?” Alfred let their intertwined hands fall lower, against his pants. Arthur’s green eyes followed their hands, and noticed many of the blood stains had faded away - the Alpha must have been able to get to and use the water from the river. “Listen. You can prep your bow and arrow and hold it to my forehead if you want,” he moved his head so the hair fell off his forehead even more, “but I’d never hurt you. Not after what you did for me. I was cautious, just like you, the first night. But you’re safe here, Arthur.”

The way he said his name made the Omega’s heart clench even harder. Arthur dared to look up at Alfred’s face and saw his gaze clearly. Nothing, not even the ground splitting open, would pull him from those blue eyes. The wind rustled his sandy blond hair, and it was the only thing he dared let himself feel other than the roughness of the Alpha’s skin on his own. The sheer vulnerability shown so starkly that it made his breath hitch. 

All this over a gathering knife.

I’d never hurt you.

“Why would you say that?” Arthur breathed. He heard his own breath shudder and did not stop it.

Lie to me. Make our parting easier.

Alfred paused before he answered. His blue eyes grazed Arthur’s pale skin, and it scorched - but not in the way Arthur expected, to be looked at like he was prey. It reminded Arthur of how he walked in dreams, raising his head to watch the dark skies, small blooms of stars hanging above his form.

As Arthur’s eyes met his, he spoke, solemn.

“Because I mean it.”

Arthur was the one to break their contact, using both hands to rustle into his bag and take out the knife. He held it out with his one hand, giving it to Alfred, watching his every move. The Alpha didn’t do anything except begin to prepare the beaver, holding it aloft by its tail, even humming a little as he worked. Arthur only saw his gaze flicker to his face a few times, and didn’t know what to do with the way Alfred looked at him. He expected possible annoyance, or smugness, given that they’d had an entire back and forth about Arthur simply giving him the knife, but Alfred just…glanced. Little flickers of his crystal blue eyes, up and down and up again, the blow of each movement muffled only by the bandage still against his forehead. Arthur felt lucky he didn’t wear a tribal necklace like Alfred did, or he would surely choke.

The detail of the wrapping brought Arthur back to his senses. What use was he, watching Alfred prepare his own meal? There were so many things left to do before he had to return home.

“First- First things first,” Arthur had to clear his throat to start. “I couldn’t find you more than one beaver, and so I’ve brought you some blackberries. I know for certain it’s the same ones we use to sweeten medicines, so you won’t be poisoned.”

At that, Alfred’s grin came back. “Y’sure you wouldn’t?”

“Can it, idiot,” Arthur huffed, only to get a burst of laughter in response. “Regardless. After you’ve started cooking the beaver, I need to recheck your wounds, reapply some poultices if needed. Now you’re up and moving, that’s a good sign.”

“Really?”

“It means you’ll live.”

“Isn’t that bad for a loa-thed enemy?”

“I- What-” Arthur started to say, but found himself spluttering at the sheer ridiculousness of the way the Alpha was pronouncing it, emphasizing the difference between the Sept and Clan’s way of speaking. Now he looked smug, and the Omega wanted to wipe it off his face. “Gods above, you’re- Don’t tell me all Clan members are like this.”

“Nope, I’m the best of them!”

“And I am completely inclined to believe you based on your own testimony.”

“You don’t have to sound that dry, y’know. Beaver’s done, by the way - you want to go back into the cave? I still have one of the rabbits you prepared the other day, so I’ll eat that in a bit. Lichen’s coming along nicely, though it does hurt my chest a bit when I hang it out.”

That caught Arthur’s attention. “That wound was one of the deepest, don’t you dare - I suggest you refrain from doing so.”

“Nah, it’s, uh. I mean, I guess, but it hurt the most when-” Alfred paused to brush away the lichen, the long, thin tendrils mingling into their long shadows as they entered the cave, “I reached up, and strained here.”

“Sit down, and I’ll have a look at you. Was it, show me-”

Alfred shook his head at the precarious ridge of unharmed skin that Arthur’s palm was placed on top of, then reached out to touch the Omega’s hand. It felt forbidden how familiar the touch was to him already. When the healer didn’t pull away or resist, he gently took it once more.

“Here,” he spoke whilst moving Arthur to the chest wrapping he had on, then shifted the white strip of fabric that covered the left side of his chest, leaving the right bare. Those nicks seemed to have healed already. 

Arthur got on with his work quickly. Yet by the time he’d assessed the damage, put together the balm and unwound Alfred’s wrapping, something was different. 

He’d seen the strength of the Alpha, feared it as he would an enemy direwolf in the shadows, feared the power being brought against him. But now he was sure Alfred would not seize him by the neck and choke the life out of him, the Omega let his fingers slip a little less quicker against his chiselled back than they had done before, allowed his touch to linger longer on the thick ropes of muscle winding through his broad shoulders. Here, having to kneel behind Alfred, Arthur was much closer to him before - now that the scent of blood and salt wasn’t drowning out the Alpha’s scent, he could sense a hint of it for the first time. 

There was a touch of water, probably from the fact that Alfred had been to the river not long before Arthur had arrived judging from the drying wraps, and the herbs still lingered, but there was a moltenness that could only come from a human. Yet his scent was lighter, more airy - which made sense, given that the Clan lived on the crest of a large hill rather than surrounded by the woodlands like the Sept camp. Arthur asked Alfred to lift his honey blond hair away from the nape of his neck, and inadvertently cleared the air further - then there was the youthful, fresh scent of apples. From his herb foraging, they were commonplace in Clan territory.

Arthur had felt previously as if he’d seen and felt everything through his moons as a healer. Frostlung, terribly infected wounds, slashes that cut to the bone, pregnancy and childbirth, all sorts of ailments. Yet kneeling before the Clan Alpha, taking a hesitant breath of his scent, the Omega felt himself - his trembling thighs and all his abruptly uncertain fingers and Sept Omega scent embroiling in his nose.

He felt everything so much more acutely, especially Alfred’s deep breathing, his heartbeat thumping in time along with Arthur’s, and the burning gaze that he gave him, his blue eyes as clear as a waterfall, yet as unwavering as the cliffs against it.

And there it was once more, pushing up against everything in that damp, shaded cave - the scent of apples, of mint and roses, mingling together for the first time.

Chapter Text

“And, as always, before we eat the meal our hunters have afforded us this afternoon, we must give thanks. To the gods!”

With a clanging of wooden cups and foot stomping, the rest of the Clan followed suit. 

“To the gods!”

Once the motion was over, the leader of the Clan, Alfred’s sire Berwald, motioned for every Alpha, Omega and Beta in attendance to sit down. “Thank you all. Next, I would like to acknowledge the hunting party that caught and prepared this meal for us - please, all of you stand up.”

Alfred watched the back of Matthew’s leather strap flex as his half-brother stood up to cheers and applause. The golden boy, the most beloved son. Wanted. Accepted. The cheers stretched on for what felt like moons.

Then the Omega sat back down, looking a little self-conscious at the attention. The meal started in earnest as the Clan’s leader finished his set of formalities, and gestured for everyone to sit back down following the Omega hunting party. Alfred tried to not look at the stares directed at him from opposite the large Clan table, and turned his direction towards the food. The meal preparation had been led by Matthew, all right - no wonder his sire allowed the cheers to rest a little longer than they usually had.

It wasn’t surprising that their sire was proud of him, after all.

“It’s odd of you to not be eating,” Matthew commented mildly. Alfred’s head jerked up from where he was staring at the meat. “I thought you liked cow meat the best.”

“I, uh.” Alfred gave a little awkward jerk of his muscular shoulders. “Sorry, Matt. No, it looks great.”

“Nice. So, have you gone to the nursery to visit - oh? Oh, um, sorry, Al, one sec.” Then his half-brother was gone, turning to his right to speak to a fellow Clan member. “Yes, we found this one grazing away in a herd of three, so it was an easier kill - no, you’re too kind.”

Alfred took another deep breath. He picked up his spoon and took a bite of his meal - it tasted good, for sure. Great, even. His brother wasn’t the golden son of the leader without a reason, after all. Sure, there was Alfred’s half-sister mewling in the nursery, but her nature was still unknown, and Matthew was just too popular to be brushed aside by another potential heir. There was just him…and Alfred. 

And, as always, no one wanted to talk to him. 

The Alpha looked upwards, to where his sire was sitting and talking quietly with one of his seconds. Like his Alpha sire before him, and her aunt before that, the leader of the Clan always had at least three at all times. The only person missing at the front of the table was Berwald’s mate and Alfred’s step-bearer, having given birth only a half-moon ago. Other than that, there was nothing particularly out of place. 

Except Alfred himself.

After the meal had finished, the Clan trooped outside of the large hut, returning back to their duties. One of his sire’s seconds started organising patrols, for what Alfred couldn’t quite make out, and he saw another making his way out of camp with a hunting group, spear notched behind his back. Matthew had already gone off with the clan member he had been speaking to the entire meal; him and Alfred hadn’t had a chance to talk much. Even his direwolf, Kuma, had managed to nuzzle up next to him. When he had received his direwolf a mere moon into his fledglingship, the entire Clan had rejoiced.

Alfred had already spent the entire morning battle training on his own, where the sandy grove made a clean space for him to practise his moves. In the sweltering heat of the summer, he didn’t want to do it more than once a day -  after all, he wasn’t so sure anyone would care if he passed out from sunfever. 

Berwald would not appreciate a young Alpha muscling in on his time especially in the middle of the day even if he was his spawn, so Alfred’s feet found themselves turning towards the nursery. It was constructed in the more shady area of the camp, giving the nursing Omegas crucial space to breathe, given that the summer was the most popular time to give birth. Berwald and his step-bearer had told him stories as a growing fledgling, about how the winter had to drive all the animals of the world back into their burrows so they could have more time to spend with one another, meaning that in the summer they’d reap the fruits of their labour.

He knocked on the door of the nursery. “Who’s there?”

Alfred fought back a sigh. He always hated this part of visiting Tino. Even the direwolves that sometimes came to see their Omega owners were much kinder, nuzzling against his hand when he gave them a pet and not baring their fangs in disgust. 

“Just Alfred.”

With an irritated huff that mirrored his own, a pregnant male Omega opened the door. “You were here three days ago. What do you want now?”

Alfred tried to not glare him down. “I’m visiting my bearer.”

“Tino’s not your bearer.”

The Alpha’s jaw set in anger. “Are you?”

“Watch your tone, upstart,” someone else hissed from his right. It soured the lovely downy scent of the nursery, laced delicately with pine and sweet-smelling ointment. “Do you know you’re talking to a senior-”

“Hello, Alfred,” Tino swooped in, nudging the male Omega away as politely as he could as he gave the Alpha a hug. Alfred couldn’t quite catch it, but the fact that the other Omegas had backed off had already made him feel much, much better. “What a pleasant surprise.”

For you and my new half-sister, maybe…but not for the others. Alfred tried to ignore the stares from the other Omegas in the den and followed Tino to his area. For ease of construction, every living area was built the same, though with ample space for privacy and in case of viral illness. Each Omega’s bed was slightly larger than even the Alphas’, given their larger frame. Once their children were born, they could choose to put a crib near them, or in a designated sleeping area.

For Tino, his infant was fast asleep next to his bed, gurgling quietly in her sleep. She wore an identically dark-coloured tunic as her bearer; the nursing Omegas were the only few in the Clan to wear dark clothing, as opposed to the much lighter-shaded clothing of the rest - the reason being that if it was soiled, they would have more discretion. At the sight of his baby half-sister, Alfred couldn’t help but relax even more - the stares and the silence faded into the background as he knelt next to the cot.

“Hi, Hana,” Alfred kept his voice gentle. “She’s doing well today too, yeah?”

Tino nodded, settling on the bed. “Mhm. She feeds as much as Berwald said you did when you were a baby. I’m glad she’s taking to it so well.” 

“Ah shoot, can’t have that, right? He used to say I’d eat the entirety of the food store if he spoiled me too much.”

“Good thing you two had me around,” Tino quipped, his smile filling out his round cheeks. That, Alfred thought, was definitely true. 

Alfred wasn’t…sure what had happened, after he was born. Only that his bearer had taken off into the night, and everyone refused to talk about it, much less talk to him. Berwald, too, was quiet and stiff-lipped, but that was how his sire usually was. Alfred understood why; his sire was from a lineage of powerful leaders, and was born into the position like every Clan leader before him - he needed to be strong. The fact that the Clan was willing to forget whatever had happened, was, for lack of a better word, lucky. He’d been called that many times.

“You’re lucky you look like your sire, you know.”

“You’re lucky Berwald didn’t drive you out of the Clan yet.”

“You’re lucky I’m fine with training with you in the first place. The other guys really didn’t want to, but I just want to train, so let’s just get it done with. Why? …I mean, I want to train like I said so it’s kind of whatever, but my parents told me to avoid you and stuff, and that you’re also…”

“You’re lucky Berwald’s mate likes you so much.”

As Alfred looked up to where Tino was gently rocking the crib, he remembered those words, and how right they were. Tino, one of the strongest hunters in the Clan, was very well-respected even before he became Berwald’s eventual mate. In his first cycle of the moon as a full-fledged Omega, a direwolf pup had, very fittingly, chosen him, even out of a smaller litter of six. Tino could have ostracised Alfred more, made him even more of a pariah - instead, he took the toddler in as his own. Not a move that many approved of, as his parents had told him, but one that made sure he wasn’t driven out of the Clan entirely by his other clanmates. He was lucky that his parents, and his half-brother, Matthew, still talked to him. Alfred would have even gone so far to say they were friendly. More often than a young Alpha should, he worried about the burden he was placing on his family, simply by…existing.

He didn’t even realise he was sighing so loudly into his hands until Tino gave him a little look. 

“That’s odd, coming from the always smiley Al I know. What’s wrong?”

“Back there, they still…” Alfred hesitated, doing his best to quiet his voice. “They still don’t like me. Visiting you and my baby- baby half-sister. It’s just…I don’t know. If it’s causing problems for you guys, then-”

“You have just as much a right to visit as Matthew,” Tino’s voice was insistent as he shook his head. “And Hana’s your sister, there’s no need to add that part on. I- Al, I know there’s some things we can’t change about what our clanmates feel. But you can’t let it stop you. Have you had any problems with your fellow Alphas again?”

“Just the usual,” Alfred said. He winced behind his hands. “But - don’t tell Berwald. I didn’t want to tell you, but I can’t keep anything from you. But I’m fine, really.”

Tino’s face sobered. “Gods, I’ll have a word with them. What happened wasn’t your fault. I-”

“Tino, you’re taking care of a newborn, and getting better yourself,” Alfred did his best to reassure his step-bearer; he could already sense his scent souring from the thick milk scent that Omegas almost always bore after childbirth. “I’m - it’s fine, really. I’ll prove my worth.”

“I’m not sure they’d listen. You know how-”

“Tino!” The two men heard the sound of the door to the nursery opening, then the curtain parting to reveal another Omega, whose face immediately fell when Alfred came into their field of vision. “...what’s he doing here?”

“I’m visiting my bearer and sister. Isn’t that allowed?”

“It would be if he was your birth-” 

The Omega might as well have slapped Alfred in the face. It would have hurt less.

“That’s enough,” Tino stood up, swiftly standing next to Alfred. Though he still bore his smile from earlier, the Alpha could feel the slight tremor of his step-bearer’s anger. “What’s - is there something I can help you with?”

Removing himself from the conversation, Alfred knelt down, placing one arm on the crib, rocking it back and forth as gently as he could. Hana still carried Tino’s scent, which prevented them from knowing her nature. For Alfred, on the other hand, he didn’t even remember what his bearer smelled like. Berwald had been around him almost day and night to the point where there had been snide remarks - up until Alfred had proved himself enough to move from fledgling to full-fledged adult - that Berwald’s Alpha nature had forcibly altered Alfred’s own. 

Even now, when Alfred could hold a candle to many of his fellow Alphas by sheer brute strength alone, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t the strongest, most experienced, so it wasn’t enough. All because everyone said his bearer never fully became the leader’s mate and he was a traitor. 

Hana let out a small burp in her sleep, and it drew the Alpha’s attention away from his step-bearer and the other Omega, to the little shift of her nose. After that, Alfred knew he had to pull himself out of it. He didn’t want his baby sister to feel that he was this upset. 

After all, it was an Alpha’s job to be strong, no matter what.

Alfred woke up to the sharp scent of lingering rain, wind, and a much less pronounced soreness than the day before.

Either Arthur was an exceptional healer, or the Clan’s Beta healer really hated him.

His chest was still achy, and when he tapped on the snug wrapping, it still smarted, but it was definitely much better than when he’d thought his heart would fall out during the night. The Alpha lay back on his pouch and let his head rest as he stared up into the faint rays of sun slashing across the ceiling. The very finely crushed handfuls of brown powder in his pouch-turned-pillow shifted along with his movement, meant to mark their new territory had they won that day. They were made out of walnut shells, harvested by the fledglings where the ends of the main river started to meet the Sept’s more woodland-based territory, then stomped on by them, finally leaving the Alphas to finish the job. 

Four sunrises ago, Alfred had been sitting on the stump of the tree near the harvesting grounds, hearing them laugh and shout as they stomped on the shells. He had been sitting quietly; sitting alone. He’d hovered around the Alphas’ meeting for the territory the whole morning, and his neck had hurt - not because he was short, as he towered over more than half of his fellow clan Alphas, but because he wasn’t allowed to truly listen in. 

The day of the battle had changed everything. Alfred shut his eyes, trying to picture the clash of the metals, the busy forge meaning that he’d gotten a mismatched weapon, wounds scattering across his skin. Then there was the duel - the Sept’s deputy, eyes shining not with hatred, like Alfred was used to, but conviction. 

Conviction. Implied respect. The deputy hadn’t saved his blows, even for a much weaker opponent. In some paradoxical way, even though it had been his nimble blade that had drawn the deep gash in Alfred's chest, it filled him with pride. He actually had some worth. 

When was the last time anyone from his Clan that wasn’t his family had done the same? 

No direwolf would ever want to claim him, even if he were eligible. No human wanted him. 

At that thought, Alfred finally found it within himself to swing one leg upwards and push himself out of his resting place. He needed to keep his head clear, at least for the brief period of time before he’d inevitably feel sleepy again - he blamed the sun.

Yesterday, after Arthur had left like that, Alfred had to keep himself busy, or he’d have sulked in the cave for the rest of the day. The lichen curtain had been finished, much faster seeing the hardest part of the construction had been done, and so the rain hadn’t made its way into his temporary shelter. 

Still, the Omega must have done something weird. Was it a Sept ritual? Had Alfred been bewitched? He hadn’t- Well, Arthur wouldn’t do something like that to him. Those soft hands seemed as if they would have cut into his flesh much sooner if they’d wanted to. 

At the simple thought of the Omega, Alfred’s chest grew even tighter, and for a moment he had to check if there was something wrong with him. Had it been the way Arthur had touched him, guiding yet tender? Or was it those eyes, their hue so unique and wonderful? As the fable went, the Clan’s eyes bore the colour from the skies and the banks of the rivers, whilst the Sept wore eyes from the woodlands and the earth. The healer’s green eyes had pierced his, and now Alfred saw Arthur’s gaze everywhere - the bundles of herbs he had left him, the lichen curtain guarding him from the elements, the burst of flowers next to the river. 

Great job, Al, you dumbass, Alfred thought to himself as he brushed off the speck of rain gathering on his fringe, stepping outside of the cave. Letting yourself care so deeply for the first person outside of your family to show you kindness. An enemy, don’t forget that either!

He’s not doing that good of a job, being your enemy, to be fair.

The light peppering of water droplets on his back made him think of Arthur’s gentle touches, his scalloping breath as he wrapped his wounds, the subtle heat of his body; his healing hands, the goosebumps that bloomed on his forearms every time the Sept Omega touched him. The Alpha would let the water pelt on his body for as long as the sky wanted as long as it remotely felt like the other man’s touches. 

Alfred hissed at the coldness of the water as it hit his face. The less time he spent cleaning himself in the river, taking more materials for the bowl he was thinking of making today, the better. He wasn’t sure if Arthur would get cross at him for soaking his wrappings, and some of his cuts already stung from the rain-

“Gods!” the Alpha yelped as he practically scuttled back to the rock where he’d laid the strips of fabric out to dry, scrabbling to gather them up in his arms and place them back in the cave, his long limbs tripping over themselves in his haste. The weeping lily tree he’d placed them underneath guarded most of them, but a few hadn’t escaped. Great. Now his leg was in pain and his scratch felt raw after he’d dashed so quickly to the tree, and he didn’t even get to douse his hair in the water yet. But now he was thinking of Arthur, his breath against the back of his neck, the vein that carded its way through his arm as he wrapped Alfred’s wounds, the soft exhalation of breath, the unbroken scent of mint and sweet-smelling herbs.

The rain poured harder, and something sunk in the Alpha’s chest as he stared at his reflection in the water. Would Arthur even want to leave his camp to see him today? It was rainy and cold, and as the Omega had said so bluntly, he’d survive. He’d understand if Arthur didn’t want to come today.

Still, it wasn’t as if Alfred’s long isolation from his Clan, even before the battle, hadn’t given him good things. He knew himself better than most, understood the tremor in his hands as he doused his hair in water, heard it in the broken breaths that filled out his broad frame as he lifted his face from the river.

He…missed his companionship. Being alone in the cave, surrounded only by the sounds of nature and his own thoughts - to say it sucked was being polite. He missed the healer’s care - yeah, the gentleness and precision was something he wasn’t used to and something he wouldn’t get back home, but more importantly…

Alfred missed him. 

In his Clan heart, he knew there should have been some internal resistance to that thought, but he was too tired and too wanting to push it away. 

What had it been in the Omega’s scent? There was the soft exhalation as Arthur took his hand, touched his fingers, the half-snort after he spoke, the hidden tenderness in the way he lifted the back of Alfred’s hair. Alfred would have never believed an Omega’s fingers could be so gentle by the way they held weapons and bows and prey. Arthur’s voice was harsh and teasing, but he’d spoken to Alfred like no Clan Omega would ever speak to him, looked at him like no Clan Omega would ever look at him.

Did Alfred - had Alfred known anything about love, before he had met him? The evenings they had spent together, barely touching out of fear their scents would cotton onto each other like catchweed, washed away in an instant when Arthur left through the river. Of course, Alfred would never say he hated it, but as an Alpha…he wanted that burning gaze to light him longer. He wanted that shuddering breath, that shy yet hungry touch on his body. He wanted his scent on Arthur’s.

Alfred wanted - knew that he should push Arthur away, that they should only be secret friends at Gatherings, nodding across the border if they saw one another.

But would that be enough? Was that all he wanted with the healer? The enemy?

How could he see Arthur as an enemy after he saved his life, treating him like he wasn’t solely his sire’s burden?

Morosely, the Alpha continued with the motions, reinforcing the lichen barrier once more before drying off in the cave with some of the less dry fabric strips. He wasn’t sure what these thoughts meant, and wasn’t lucid enough to think deeper on them. Too easily, he allowed himself to find sleep once more.

It was roses, right?

Underneath the pungent smell of the herbs, Alfred remembered roses. He’d smelled mint somewhere before, he wasn’t sure where, but roses were rare in Clan territory. That’s why he…

His eyes were so green, the colour harsh and vivid, but the way it softened ever so slightly under the dusk, in a way only he could see-

The Alpha lost himself back to sleep. 

“...at least they’re cooking. Blast this ridiculous rain. If the netting - if it soaks through…”

A hazy figure of blond and green swam in front of Alfred’s vision. For a second, he thought that he was under attack, but nearing the end of the autumn, wild animals were less commonly abound, and it wasn’t as if his clanmates cared enough to finish him off. They’d probably-

“Alfred? You’re awake now, I hope.” Arthur’s teasing voice abruptly made Alfred feel like he was flushing all over. “Don’t make that expression, it’s a good thing. I’m glad you got some rest.”

Alfred tried to push himself up, but he caught the Omega’s gaze and it was all over. 

“Are you not getting up this afternoon?” Arthur’s hood and strands of his hair were soaked with rainwater, and the thing the Alpha registered after the scent of mint was the heavy pitter patter of the rain outside. It sounded even worse than this morning, and yet Arthur still had come to see him…

There was the crackling of the fire, the sting of the herbs being prepared, the smell of fresh meat cooking - all things Alfred was more than happy to enjoy, but his gaze kept on getting stuck on the arch of Arthur’s waist against the wall of the cave.

“Hey,” Alfred said weakly. Abruptly, his tongue felt too large for his mouth. 

For some reason, Arthur’s thick eyebrows furrowed, and he abandoned what he was doing to move to Alfred’s side, his steps echoing comfortingly in the cave. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I…y’know. Not really. It’s a bit…I mean, it’s raining, and…”

“I saw you went back out to retrieve the bandages. Is that why you’ve gotten - you’re not leaving your sleeping area today? Let me check your forehead,” the Omega spoke as he leaned forward, wiping off his hand on the towel strapped into his hunting gear and lifting Alfred’s hair. “...you’re feeling a little warm.” 

Truth be told, Alfred forgot what he was feeling as soon as Arthur’s palm touched his body. Divine pain, divine pleasure - all of it curled into his stomach at the simple touch. He could feel his cheeks burning, untouched by the fire, as Arthur studied his face, lips quivering before he spoke. Instinctually, the touch on his forehead caused his hand to fly upwards to his forehead, touching Arthur’s along with it.

There was nothing but the rasping of their breaths entwining in the air as the Alpha waited for Arthur to pull away, shout at him, strike him, even. But it did not happen.

He was so close.

“I- I need to check on you,” the Omega stammered out, and Alfred felt his cheeks pink. This wasn’t what he had meant to do, but touching his hand was…

I touched him. And he didn’t pull away.

I touched him.  

He couldn’t resist a half snort, half laugh at that thought. The divine pleasure melted in his mouth as Arthur moved closer to his face.

“Do you feel sick, Alfred? Even worse than before?”

“I’m…uh. I don’t know. I’ll take some rest.” Alfred could barely hear himself over his own heartbeat. 

“I see.” The healer’s gaze looked troubled. “I need to examine you now. If you spent a lot of time in the rain, then it might have soaked into some wounds, infected them. We haven’t…come this far for you to die of infection. If it takes root, then we’ll be in trouble.”

“We’ll be in…? We’ll?”

“Where do you think you get your healing herbs from? I won’t be let off scot-free if anyone from my Sept catches me, even if I’m picking them for you and not taking them from our store. Sit up.” Then he added hastily, “If you can.” 

Once Alfred did, Arthur sat down, motioning for the Alpha to turn to face him. “I won’t take off the bandages if I don't have to - just touching them will let me confirm whether they’re swelling. Do you feel worse than before?”

Alfred didn’t know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say had to remain silent, so he merely shook his head. 

“That’s promising,” the healer muttered under his breath. His hood obscured some of his expression, but Alfred could tell he wasn’t being too sarcastic by the lack of dryness in his voice. “I do hope you’re not ticklish.”

That feather-soft touch came to caress Alfred once more, though for some reason, it was even gentler this time. Arthur’s fingers wove over even the smallest of cuts as the rain poured outside their shelter, and Alfred wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to breathe. Watching his own chest heave with his breaths meant watching the healer’s calculated movements of his own fingers on his body, meant having his head so close to Arthur’s that he could taste the Omega’s own scent. Little patches of faint sunlight from outside caught on his shoulders, letting Alfred see the tiny tremors from being close, the shift of his slender, lean muscles. He had relaxed so much since the first time he had treated his wounds to the point where Alfred would have dared to call the caress familiar. 

Maybe being so close to an enemy affected Arthur as much as it did him.

Arthur’s hand grazed against the wound on Alfred’s chest, and Alfred hissed - though it was healing, it still hurt. 

“Bear with it,” Arthur said sternly, but it came out in a whisper and made Alfred’s heart throb even harder. “It’s not swollen, so you’ll live. That wound was the one I was most worried about, given that you strained it hanging up the lichen barrier.”

The words left Alfred’s lips, hushed and sacred, before he could stop himself. “You were worried about me?”

A huff. “Only someone who truly cared would come out all this way in the rain, with their fellow healer scolding them…” came the reply. “...As you know. That’s besides the point. The laceration on your hip is fine, though I’ll have to change the wrappings…”

Something in Alfred’s heart stirred at that. Not only was Arthur sneaking out from camp to tend to him, possibly even getting in trouble with his fellow septmates, but he cared, and said so. Was it just because he was Arthur’s patient now, or did he also…

Alfred had to know.

The Alpha leaned forward to try to catch the Omega’s gaze, but Arthur had inadvertently ignored him by checking his injuries. Only by the second time did the other man notice Alfred’s gaze.

“What- what is it?” He sounded flustered - so very flustered. If the Omega hated him, why did he sound like that?

“Am I going to live?”

“I already said, you’ll be all right. Judging by how the worst wounds aren’t swollen to the touch, and you’re clearly feeling-” Arthur sputtered as Alfred leaned closer, one of his hands skimming across the dark green fabric of the Omega’s hood, but he did not pull away. “What is it?”

“I want to see you.”

“...what’s with these…these preposterous requests?” The healer’s voice fell into a stammer, dodging again once Alfred tried to catch his gaze. Unconsciously, he revealed a little more of himself, the pale skin of the junction between his neck and his shoulder, and Alfred heard himself swallow. Without thinking, he parted his mouth, taking more of the Omega’s scent than he had allowed himself to do before. Before, his mind had been clouded with distrust and confusion and his own blood, but now the air was clear, washed away by the rain and Arthur’s healing herbs…

The mint pricked playfully in his nose, and the wild roses sweetened the scent. There was a hint of something Alfred couldn’t quite place, which made sense as he hadn’t been around many Omegas that weren’t Tino and Matthew, but it still compelled him to be closer. 

“Alfred?” Arthur breathed as Alfred had to wrench himself away. “What are you-”

“Can you at least let me see your face? I’m sure your clothing’s heavy, and you should take it off,” Alfred mumbled, before realising exactly what he was saying. “No, I meant, I meant that - just your hood, it’s just, you shouldn’t hide it from me - no, no, I meant it in that way, not that way, and-” He finished his jumbled mess of a sentence with a helpless wave of his hand. “Sorry. I just want…you know.”

Arthur’s hands, hovering over his chest, curled in on themselves before the Omega gave a jerk of his shoulders. “I,” he said slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing uncertainly as he spoke, “I suppose it wouldn’t…it wouldn’t do any harm. But no funny business.”

“No way I would.” With that, Alfred’s hands came to the side of Arthur’s head, inching his fingers forward one by one in a scaling motion, until it came to the top of the fabric. He could sense the Omega, in some way, glaring at him - the warmth from it was too potent to ignore. 

Warmth, from the first person who had shown it to him in a long time. 

With that in mind, he kept the movement slow and gentle, peeling back the hood ever so slightly with each shift of his wrist to reveal Arthur’s face. The same breath that had haunted his dreams slipped from the Omega’s lips once the hood fell onto his back, revealing his face to him.

It felt different. Which was strange, because he had seen nothing but Arthur’s face these past few days, but this time, Alfred could not look away.

The rain fell around them as Alpha and Omega watched each other, all their previous prejudices fading away as the moment stretched on and on and on. Alfred dared to lift his hand to touch the side of Arthur’s face, tracing the hint of stubble on the rough pad of his fingers.

Then he moved his thumb forward, touching his cheek. He came dangerously close to touching Arthur’s lips before the two of them sprang away, breathing heavily.

Arthur’s green eyes had glistened as he had touched him, with a forbidden emotion that Alfred had heard about within the Clan camp countless times before.

“If he goes to the Sept, then it’ll be a shameful thing for Berwald. We cannot let that happen.”

“We can’t send him out of the camp. What if they decide to kill him? And he’s mourning.”

“What will we do with the brat if he indeed has defected? And to think that Berwald could have mated with him. There’s no way he can stay here if he is a traitor. I cannot believe- with how well he has served our Clan, that he would leave our leader’s son. Is it only because he is so young, so helpless, that-”

“Was it because they were not mated?”

“Whatever the circumstances, if he belongs to the Sept now, then it is a curse. It is the one thing worse than being Clanless.”

“D-Don’t look at me like that,” Arthur protested, but the words lacked their usual venom, and he did not look away.

“Like what?”

“You know,” the Sept Omega’s reply was sharp. “You’re not a daft fool, Alfred. We both know.”

Alfred swallowed. It felt like a cascade of stones going down his throat, but he could not lie. 

Arthur deserved more than that.

“I can’t,” he had to confess. “I can’t.”

Chapter Text

The question trembled on Arthur’s lips. He could scarcely believe this was happening.

“Why?”

“I - you, Arthur, you saved my life ,” the Alpha stammered. His chest was moving fast, disturbing the torn fabric draped over his skin, and even if Arthur were to retreat under his hood, he could see it. As much as he shouted at his body to cooperate, it sensed what he really wanted and refused to move. 

“You’re - you’re the kindest person I know-”

Arthur couldn’t even stop the Alpha’s name from slipping from his lips. “Alfred-”

“You - you don’t even need introduction, once I thought about, remembered after everything that you’re both a healer and a hunter, then you kept on taking care of me even when I lunged at you at the start, then you,” Alfred had to take a breath, he was speaking so fast, “you still put up with me, and I don’t know why.”

Put up with you? I wish that was the only thing that’s happened in this cave.

“I - is that not what your clanmates would…would do for you?” Arthur couldn’t help but stammer over his words in his shock. “Alfred, they…”

He let his words trail off at Alfred’s expression, the way he shook his head so slightly to the point where the only movement Arthur could see was the way the ends of his hair shifted on his shoulders. The Omega dared to look upwards, into the blue gaze that sent shivers down his spine, the voice that beckoned betrayal. 

“We’re meant to be enemies, aren’t we?” Yet the words, as simple as they were in meaning, tasted strange in his mouth. 

“...Yeah,” Alfred said, swallowing. “Which makes you even more special. To…to me. Before I met you, I didn’t know I was worthy of being cared for by someone else outside my family. I…you can tell, right? You’ve got to be smart, given the fact that you’re both a healer and a hunter, so you can tell what my tribe truly thinks of me, leaving me here. But…if I got to meet you, since I got to meet you…”

Arthur couldn’t speak. He could only look at Alfred, the shift of his chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his lips. There was nothing but the steady drip of rainwater punctuating their silence, which was not much - but enough, it seemed, for a conclusion to be drawn.

“I…I’m sorry,” Alfred sounded like he was retreating, and his voice had died down so much that it made Arthur’s heart hurt. “I just thought that…that you might have come just to help me , not because you felt like you had to - but I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t want to - want to help, or see- ” his voice cracked and he had to compose himself, “see me anymore. I’ve caused you so much trouble, I know, and-”

“No,” Arthur breathed, then he was placing his cold hands against Alfred’s cheeks before moving, bringing the Alpha close to him. He shouldn’t have, he truly shouldn’t - but the touch felt natural, the only correct thing to do in this situation. He was so close to him that he could see his eyes dilate.

“Please,” Alfred kept his words to a whisper. The Omega had never known that such vulnerability could be given away voluntarily by an Alpha, and he had never expected wanting to accept it as badly as he wanted to right now. “Tell me you don’t at least somewhat feel the same way, and I’ll stop talking. We’ll…I’ll stop thinking these thoughts, and you can stay as far away from me as possible, if - if that’s what you want.”

“That’s not what I want.” 

A spark of desperate, dangerous hope flickered in Alfred’s Clan-blue eyes. “You…you mean, you-”

“Have you never been in love with an Omega before?”

Alfred shook his head. “Nope. No, never. Even if I had, no Omega wants to mate with me, anyway.”

“But why?” Arthur moved closer to him, hovering for a moment before sitting at his side. The sides of their legs brushed for a moment, and it felt like watching a bolt of lightning slice into one of the trees surrounding the Sept’s camp, the crackle of electricity in the air. “I…I don’t understand.”

“Is it that surprising? I mean…you’ve seen how the rest of the Clan treats me.”

Do you even see yourself? Do you see your strength, your handsome looks, your chivalry, your smile, the way you make me feel, though I should not? You should have someone to wait for you back home, to make me forget you even more easily.

“Yes, but I was - Alfred, I don’t understand why exactly. Would you care to tell me?”

“I…it’s complicated. But there’s a very good reason why no one really wants to come back for me, not really.”

Arthur scowled. “Unless you’ve attempted murder against the leader of the Clan, I doubt it’s a good enough one to abandon a fellow Clan member, let alone you. ”

What the Sept Omega thought had been a perfectly reasonable comment ended up with Alfred looking at him with an expression that reminded him that the lightning had still not dissipated - and that he should probably look away to avoid being singed. It was one thing to ignore the Alpha's pleading expression, but another to forget his next words.

“R-Really…?”

“ Yes , really,” Arthur insisted. He accentuated his words with a jerk of his head, and their shoulders brushed for such a brief moment that Alfred dared not voice it, in case the Omega noticed. “Now, you must tell me what happened.”

“I…okay. It’s…I’m actually a bastard son of the current leader,” the Alpha blurted. He didn’t look at Arthur. 

The words settled uncomfortably in the cave before he continued to speak. 

“My family - well, my sire, stepbearer, and half-brother care for me, but it’s obvious the rest of the Clan doesn’t, and because of that my sire can’t treat me like just another member of the Clan. My bearer tries, gods know he does, but it’s not easy, and he’s well-respected in the Clan.”

Arthur couldn’t help but be taken aback. He had expected much, much worse, such as Alfred having betrayed another clanmate in battle or having committed a much worse sin than…being born. 

“What about your brother? Half-brother.”

“We get along, and that’s as much as I could hope for, really. He’s got a good future in the Clan, there’s rumours my sire will make him one of his seconds when he’s older, and he’s super well-liked. For that reason, I…uh, I don’t want to interact with him too much. People have already kind of turned against my stepbearer for that reason.”

“And your sire?”

“He’s protected by the fact that he’s obviously the leader, and other than this small… blemish on his record,” Alfred gritted his teeth as he said it, “he’s a good leader. And while all our leaders are born into the position, a powerful Alpha leader isn’t guaranteed - it's not easy. So they’ve been willing to look over the facts.”

“So for that reason,” Arthur said, “they left you for dead ?”

“There’s a reason they let me duel someone as experienced and capable as your deputy, y’know?” Alfred rubbed at his neck, careful to not go too low or too harsh so as not to disturb his wounds. “It’s impossible to say no when you have the entire patrol up there, saying that if I wanted to prove to the Clan that I was a good fighter, I’d have to do it, or they’d tell my sire.”

“Doesn’t your sire love you?”

“...he does, he does. But his seconds don’t. If enough Alphas in the patrol claim that I was a coward, his seconds might vote to have me banished. And I don’t want to cause trouble for my sire. I don’t want him and my brother to have to publicly turn against me because of the fact that the others in the patrol called me weak and blamed me for their loss.”

“And they were willing to do all of these things to discredit you?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Don’t you resent them?”

At that, the Alpha hesitated.

“...A little,” he said, testing out the words, letting them dissolve in the air before he spoke again. “It’s just - Arthur, it’s been like this ever since I can even remember. Hating practically everyone in your tribe is exhausting, and it would turn me into some kind of monster, I think. There’s also the added pressure of being so close to the leader. Whatever I do, it reflects on my sire.”

“It’s not…it’s because your tribe does things differently, don’t they?”

“Differently?”

Arthur scented confusion in the Alpha’s slightly sour pheromones. “In regards to choosing the leader. There’s more pressure on having an impeccable reputation, and being liked - because if your sire fails, then his bloodline does too.”

“Do you guys in the Sept do it differently?” Alfred asked.

The Omega nodded. “When a leader wants to step down, can’t do their duty any longer, or passes away, there are votes held. Usually, we have only one of your seconds, which we call our deputy, and we hold a vote for whether or not we’d like to elect them as a leader. Since they’re essentially our second-in-command and the Sept’s seen them in action already, most of the time they’re elected as the next leader without a hitch.”

If Arthur had been any less wise, he would have called the subsequent tilt of the Alpha’s head to the side cute .  

“Voting? How do you guys do it, in the Sept?”

“You’ve not heard?”

“Nope,” the Alpha said. “Haven’t been much out, really. I haven’t been to a Gathering yet.”

That took the Sept Omega by shock. “But you’re…you’re a full-fledged Alpha! Is it not custom for the Clan to invite every new tribe member who has completed their training to…”

“It is,” Alfred’s voice was pained, agonisingly so. Arthur still remembered the pain from the first night; this one felt much deeper, more raw. The next words came very quickly. “It’s…uh. Tell me about the voting thing you do?” 

That explains why you’ve never seen me, and I’ve never seen you.

Arthur obliged. It wasn’t as if it were some piece of well-guarded Sept knowledge, anyway. The procedure was vastly different in both tribes of their territory - the Clan’s leaders were born into the position, whereas the Sept’s were voted in. 

“We line up stones in two clearly marked mounds - one is marked with a stick, to represent a vote 'for.' It doesn’t change, so no one gets confused.”

“Mmh.” Alfred moved a little closer to him. If he rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder, they’d be… “Who gets to vote?”

“All the full-fledged septmates, and elders within a cycle of them choosing to retire from their duties.”

“So your deputy was chosen like that, too?”

Arthur hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Yes, he’s very popular, and for a good reason. After our bout of frostlung cycles and cycles ago, he was the one who stepped up, though he was a young Alpha. When our previous deputy passed away, many people put his name up, because he didn’t expect he’d ever be chosen.” Hastily, he added, “we’re strong now though-”

“Hey, I’m not going to be spreading this to my Clan, you know,” Alfred grinned as he said it, and Arthur saw. He scented the sweet smelling hay in the Clan Alpha’s scent and closed his mouth. “Nope. Everything that’s said within this cave stays here, okay? I wouldn’t do that to you. I owe you and your Sept a debt. Well, you .”

The Omega couldn’t admit it out loud, but he understood Alfred.

It’s you. It’s always been you, hasn’t it? It wasn’t just my duty, it was you.

“What…what happened with your Clan?” he asked, wanting to move his own thoughts away. 

“We suffered from frostlung, too. Matthew and I were still kids, and…back then, I think I had the most peaceful two moons of my life. No one cared that I was a bastard, because my sire got sick too. Not nearly as sick as the others, but, Clan life still kind of revolves around him.”

“You admire him greatly, don’t you?”

The Alpha nodded. “He’s kept me alive, all this time. And he’s still my sire; he could have abandoned me a long time ago, but he tries. I…you know. I wanted to be a leader myself, before I fully realised that I was a bastard. I still really, really want to. But that’s not possible.”

“Why ever not? You are of Berwald’s blood, after all. As the Clan’s laws dictate, the mantle of leader falls onto his eldest child, yes?”

“ Legitimate child, in this case.” Alfred shuffled around uncomfortably. He turned his face and had to pull it away immediately to not intake too much of Arthur’s scent. “Matthew’s almost exactly a cycle younger than me, and he’s popular, and well-liked. And my stepbearer recently gave birth to my half-sister.”

“What’s her nature?”

“We don’t know yet. But yeah, it’s impossible for me to ever have a claim to the title. Not to mention, my sire is young and strong still, and he and my stepbearer want more than one child.” 

With any other person that Alfred knew, he wouldn’t have said this at all. As happy as he was to retain Matthew’s friendship, he was crawling on the thinnest of tree branches when it came to sensitive topics like these, and he would never voice them. Tino and Berwald didn’t need to hear these things - they already knew. And what other soul did Alfred have to talk to within his Clan?

But Arthur allowed him to bring down his walls, and Alfred could tell that the other man did not hate him. 

No.

That was too tame for what Arthur had done.

Not only had the other Omega saved him, an enemy , willingly putting himself in a vulnerable position to save an  unmated Alpha’s life, but he had come back time and time again. He'd even spent his time gathering healing herbs and food for him, so loyal as he was to his tribe that he had refused to take from their stores except for the first night. He had paid no fear to the probability of being caught and punished. 

...and touched him. Touched him, over and over again. He raved that touch, raved that closeness .

He had wanted the staccato of Arthur's breathing at his side, wanted the sparks between their touches for himself. Wanted to belong to him. 

And now, after Alfred had revealed that he was a bastard and in some ways, a deserter, Arthur had gotten angry at his clanmates, not him. He had sat down and listened, surprised Alfred with the frustration directed towards a tribe he did not live in. Was it even possible?

And yet, he was an enemy. An enemy , an enemy who…

An enemy who treated him with kindness unlike any other. An enemy who, despite having no obligations to help him and befriend him, did.

An enemy who cared for him.

In the heat of the moment, the Alpha felt all his past frustrations with his right to succeed Berwald fade away; his past hates, his past desires. Everything bunching up in his throat faded before the lithe Omega in front of him - his hood hanging loosely on his back, his slightly turned up lips encasing his dreams, his green eyes reflecting the world.

“Stays here?”

His hand moved forward.

“Stays here?” Arthur was confused, until he realised Alfred was holding up a finger to his lips. “...all right?”

But Alfred still didn’t resume speaking. 

“What is it?”

“Mmph,” Alfred gave the finger on his lips a little shake. “Stays here?”

The Omega couldn’t help his sputter, and he turned his body to face Alfred, to try to get his point across. “ No . You can believe my words, thank you very much.”

The Alpha’s eyes sparkled with teasing, something Arthur knew was forbidden. Going along with his actions wasn’t as if it meant they would be mates. They couldn’t be mates. 

But the Omega knew the beating in his heart was not only from scenting the proximity of an enemy Alpha, knew it was not only from his closeness - the pounding that filled out his skin was not the same as when he was drawing a weapon to spear prey, not the same when he heard wails in the night and pitiful breaths. He had never felt this way, not with another Alpha, not with another person.

Putting up that finger, surrendering, meant something else.

Those lips…

How would they feel? They pressed gently against Alfred’s finger, with an uncharacteristic softness that Arthur had only seen before. Alphas visiting their Omega mates in the infirmary when they had been injured by particularly reckless prey or falling out of a tree, desperation guiding their hands the passion guiding their lips. Arthur had only ever watched in curiosity, not want. 

Sitting there in the damp cave, Arthur had to move his eyes away from Alfred. His gut clenched underneath his tunic and he wished he didn’t know why.

“Arthur?”

He was still waiting.

Arthur should have fled, if he were to preserve his life as it was. Simply sneak out of the camp before dawn, deposit the supplies, never speak to temptation again. If he was a perfect healer and hunter, a perfect Omega, a perfect Sept member, he would have left. 

But he wasn’t, so he turned to face Alfred, moved a finger up to his own lips. Green eyes locked with blue. The scent of something sweet coated his throat and his nose, and this time, he didn’t deny it.

“This stays here.”

As the Omega said it, though, the Alpha couldn’t help but notice how tightly his shoulders were knotted with tension, how…

“Arthur?” The finger came down immediately, and so did Arthur’s. “Don't you do something like that in the Sept?”

“No, we- we do that too in our tribe, though it’s mostly between fledglings, but…”

“But what?” Alfred moved closer to him, holding himself tautly by the shoulders as he saw Arthur flinch. “I’m sorry - I don’t want you to be scared, I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Don’t say that,” Arthur’s words had fallen to a whisper. “You shouldn’t. We…I…”

Then Alfred couldn’t resist. He moved forward, connecting their gazes together with a shift of his hand against Arthur’s chin, then he let his mouth open, intaking a deep breath of Arthur’s scent, cutting easily through the rain. He let himself crave it like he had never craved anything else before. 

“Alfred-”

“You feel it too, don’t you?” If Alfred let those words disappear, he might as well have done the same. “You feel it.”

“We can’t,” Arthur said. The can’t was said in a way that made it sound so closed off, so different from the intonations that Alfred had gotten used to in Clan life, but Alfred wanted to taste the closeness of Arthur’s wonderful voice. “We shouldn’t.”

“I’m not- I don’t…I’m not saying that we should, you know. But I just want to know.”

“We’re from different tribes .”

Alfred had expected harsher - a firm no, a push away, Arthur fleeing from him. But even the last sentence was spoken softly, and Arthur had not pulled away from his hand, maintaining their body contact. There was a noncommittal shake of his head, but nothing more. 

“I know,” Alfred said faintly. “I know. But you’ve treated me kinder than anyone else outside my family. I want to repay the favour.”

“It's much less of a favour than you think. I don’t come here to help you out of begrudging obligation any longer,” Arthur insisted. “Alfred - I’m worried about you . My tribe respects me, cares for me, keeps me. Yours doesn’t.”

“But what if they find out what happens to you? What if they strip you from your roles? What if-” Alfred had to swallow, “what if they make you tribeless ?”

Because of me? 

“Hush,” Arthur whispered fiercely. Alfred’s hand had fallen down to his lap without him noticing, and before he saw Arthur’s eyes again, his chest was pounding and he was panting. “Don’t say any of this.”

“You…if anything bad happens to you-”

“I am a revered member of the Sept,” Arthur insisted. “We are not heartless monsters unlike your tormentors back home. They will not cast me out for saving another’s life.” 

Alfred could only say his next words faintly, as if the rain and wind would carry them outside of the cave and into their homes.

“What if it’s not just you saving another’s life?”

Arthur hesitated and said nothing. The green in his eyes stole away all the light.

“Tell me now, Arthur. If you don’t- if you don’t feel anything like what I feel for you, tell me so at once.” The Alpha let his head hang. “I’ll stop. Immediately. I’d rather die than hurt you at all. We’ll go back to how it was before. I’ll always owe you my life, but I don’t want to be a burden any more than I am-”

The Omega took his arm, wrist to forearm to elbow, and pulled Alfred slightly forward, as if to gauge his reaction. When Alfred willingly gave him his body, Arthur used his other arm to wrap around him, his grip lingering on the goosebumps that he left in his wake. All of a sudden, they made contact - their abdomens, their stomachs, the slight hardness of their rib cages, their collarbones. Forbidden sparks bloomed all over their bodies, and the Alpha could feel every inch of heat from the Omega’s body.

Arthur had moved his head over Alfred’s shoulder. His hood obscured most of his neck, but the fabric fell to the wayside just ever so slightly, exposing a bare patch of skin for the Alpha to take in. Alfred didn’t fight his instincts, and when he took an inhale, he could hear his own breath shuddering. Every muscle in his body was shouting at him to grasp Arthur upwards and press that soft neck to his mouth and suck until it left a rosy red mark, even bite , but he resisted. There was no way he would do that to him. He didn’t know what to do. His Alpha body rushed to give him a myriad of options - thumping the ground, yelling out, tightening his fists so hard it hurt, bringing Arthur to his mouth and devouring-

But the only thing he could muster up was a sob. At least the salty scent of his tears hid something much more dangerous. 

“...Alfred? Alfred, if you didn’t - oh gods, did I-”

You shouldn’t be crying. You shouldn’t be crying. Alphas don’t cry, do they?

Yet the Alpha couldn’t stop himself. The Sept Omega had treated him with such warmth, held him as if he had deserved to be held, brought him close, cared for him. His thoughts were long and rambling, a sheet of unbroken rain. 

“I’m sorry,” Alfred barely managed to get out, “it’s just…you…I know we shouldn’t feel this way. But Arthur, I’ve never known anyone outside of my family to care for me like you have, and I’ll be damned if I don’t let myself tell you how I feel-”

Arthur’s eyes searched, searched, searched…then met his. 

“Then tell me.”

“I don’t want you to go. I don’t want - I don’t want us to be strangers. I want to desire you, like an Alpha does his Omega. I don’t want to think of each other as Clan, and, and-” he touched his chest when he said Clan , and waited until Arthur took his hand and placed it against his own chest that he kept on going, “Sept. I just want us to be Alfred and Arthur. Here, in this cave, for a start…but one day, outside, too.”

“But you know we can’t just be , outside of here,” Arthur said. “Out there…we both belong to somewhere else.”

“I want to belong to you, too.”

Arthur drew breath sharply, and Alfred braced for the all too familiar scolding, the harsh words, the taunting.

Al, it’s not as if the others don’t like you, it’s just…the pressure from their families is pretty strong, and you know. It’s hard to mingle as it is…

Why would any Omega ever look at you? Don’t be foolish.

Wouldn’t you just spread your corruption around?

“Alfred,” Arthur’s voice was disarming. Now they were so close, the Omega’s calming pheromones were flooding into his nose. “Alfred, listen to me. You’re here, in the cave with me.”

“I-” Alfred’s breath locked up for a moment, and he had to clear his throat. Instead of the vernal winds rushing in his ears and the apple trees flanking the outside of the camp entrance, he heard the tapping of the rain on the roof of their cave and smelled the wild roses in Arthur’s scent. “Sorry. I should have known you’d be able to guess.”

“There’s only one place bringing you strife, and I’m rather certain it's not here,” Arthur said. “Here, you can escape it, for at least a little.”

Alfred nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. He turned his gaze over to his right. The sky was rapidly darkening; Arthur had overstayed his welcome, yet he was still here. He said that little to him.

“Your Sept might want you back soon. It’s getting dark, I think.”

“...you’re right, I should be going.”

Fear seized the Alpha’s chest, but he did his best to swallow it for now. “Will you be back tomorrow?”

“If the rain continues to be poor, I might have to stay behind tomorrow. Winter arrives in the next few moons, and there’s still preparations to do.”

Alfred had to ask. “How are…how are the other Alphas in your medicine den?”

“They’re all on the way - they’re healed, essentially. Our deputy needs another night, Francis and I reckon, but he’ll be all right. It’s kind of you to ask.”

The Alpha gave Arthur a wry smile. “Yeah, sure. I’ll let you go, now. Don’t want you to get sick on your way home.”

Arthur nodded quietly, not another word shared between them. Alfred could only watch as he gathered his things, could only hear the hollow sounds of his shoes on the floor of the cave, taste the absence of the sweetness of his scent. All alone again.

The Omega put on his hood near the entrance as he secured his bag, then looked back at the Alpha one more time. The hood slid off Arthur’s fingers and lolled against his back. Alfred could only wear a smile on his face for a moment until he had to move away. There was no way he would let Arthur see the pleading on his face, now the other knew what it meant, and-

The Alpha felt two hands on his face, bringing the two of them closer again, their foreheads touching. Alfred didn’t even prepare himself for the embrace; he let it in without resistance. There was no way he’d be able to let himself feel the Omega embracing him so closely without the threat of dying from happiness.

“Alfred,” Arthur breathed. His voice was so quiet that if they weren’t so close, there was no way Alfred would have heard him. “I’m not rejecting you. I want some time to think about my answer, about…you wanting to belong to me, even outside of this cave. But I…I can’t forget you. I won’t forget you. No matter what, I won’t.”

“My life is in your hands,” Alfred whispered, wretched. “If you tell me to go back to my Clan and forget everything that’s happened this moon, if you just tell me to forget you, I can’t do that. You can only tell me to forget my feelings for your sake.”

The Omega’s gaze was unreadable as he watched Alfred. “If you knew how to save your own skin, you would forget all about me the moment you stepped past those borders and started returning home. You would want peace.”

Alfred looked down at his recovering hands, the bandage on his left arm. He didn’t look up before he spoke again, “Maybe I don’t know where home is, any more. And if it means forgetting you, I won’t, even if it means I have my peace back.”

He saw Arthur’s shoes shift, the deer skin and the hide soft on the tread, and when he moved his head upwards, the Omega’s hands were hovering around his face. Alfred closed his eyes and gently pressed his hands to his cheeks.

“You should go.”

“I should,” Arthur murmured. “You’re Clan, and I’m Sept. This shouldn’t be happening.”

“Yeah, it shouldn’t.”

Neither of them moved.

“If you stay any longer, you’ll be missed by someone more than me,” Alfred offered a joke, feeling the hard grip on his chest relax when the corners of Arthur’s mouth lifted. “Think about what I said. You don’t have to - to give me an immediate answer. I know it hasn’t been as long as other courtships, but…I’m serious.”

“I know. That’s why I can’t answer you right away. I’m…what we’re feeling is serious. That’s why we must tread carefully.”

Now Alfred was smiling, too. “We?”

“Gods, Alfred, I hope you’re not this dense.” The Omega pressed their foreheads together, and Alfred could see Arthur’s eyelashes blink before he started to move away. “Tomorrow.”

Before he could completely pull away, Alfred laced his hand to the back of Arthur’s hood, keeping his head there for another moment. If he was more forceful, he could interlace his lips with his, keep Arthur there for another night, tuck him into his arms, and take him.

But not like this. Arthur deserved better.

“Tomorrow.”

By the time Arthur raced in just before sunset ended, a bag full to the brim with large herbs and two rabbits, Francis was giving Toris one more check, the Alpha petting his direwolf with his dangling hand as the Beta did his work.

“The last wound’s uninfected. You’ll be alright. Just wear some more sturdy reinforcement the next time you battle, and you’ll reduce - oh, speak of the little devil! There you are. But yes, as I was saying, the less you reopen this back scar, the less worry you’ll cause for me and Arthur.”

“Hello,” Toris said, the sound muffled from where he was lying on the table. “Hope your hunting and gathering went well.”

“Went as well as it could in the rain,” Arthur said. Turning to Francis, he asked, “Is everyone out of the infirmary now?”

“Yes, yes. Finished discharging the last two, and if Toris doesn’t mind sleeping late tonight, he’ll go back to sleep with the other Alphas.”

The deputy lifted his head from his resting position on the table. “Sleep late?”

“I’m not supposed to tell, but they’ve been talking about throwing a large welcome back party for you. Lift up, I just need to secure this wrapping one more time, then you’re good.”

Toris sighed, though it was a light one. “Would you like that, Vil? I’m sure you’re tired of making the trek from the dens to here every day.”

When his direpup wagged her stumpy tail, he gave a tilt of his head. “Looks like I’ll be going back, then. Thanks for your help, Francis, Arthur.”

“Anytime. Arthur, did you bring something for us tonight?”

“Mostly herbs,” the Omega said, lifting up his pouch to show Francis. “Rabbits for the Alphas on cooking duty tonight. Have they started yet?”

“Don’t think so, but they will in a bit. They’re using a hut for today’s meal, because the usual fire’s been dented by the rain - Toris, Vilnius can walk perfectly fine on her own! Don’t strain yourself - put her down! Anyway, as I was saying. Put your things away and then you can go give it to them. You’ve been out quite awhile today, though.”

Arthur swallowed. If anyone in the Sept were to discover his secret, it would be Francis, without a question. Francis had worked with him ever since they were children, trained him as teenagers, mourned alongside him when they lost their bearers in that same awful winter.

But if anyone wanted to understand, it would be Francis…

“Maybe I shouldn’t have, it’s just... winter is soon, and I can’t help but be worried. I know that Dietrich said the food store was fine earlier when he came back before the afternoon meal, yet what if winter overstays its welcome this time?” he answered, less abrasive than usual. 

Francis looked a little taken aback - a weakness of his was his face was so easy to read - but he recovered quickly. “Oh, well. It’s all right, you’ve got a good haul of herbs, and there wasn’t much to do today, so, alas. Get those rabbits to the Alphas, then we’ll sort them out before the evening meal.”

A potential crisis averted, Arthur did as he was told. Making his way to his sleeping quarters, he took off his robe to dry, draping it over the end of the bed. He hesitated before tucking in the hood, keeping Alfred’s scent there, the small fold in the fabric where he’d run his nose against, then returned to his duties.

Chapter Text

As Arthur woke, the cave flashed in front of him. Frigid sun lifted his eyelids, frost touched the inner corners of his eyes, a stinging dryness pulled him to stir. 

But nothing convinced him more than a hand running through his hair.

Soft murmurs replaced the raspiness of his own breaths, and Arthur found himself staring at him.

Alfred did not speak, did not move, did not flinch. Instead, the Alpha gave him a grin, reaching out for his hand.

The Omega stared at it where it wavered, then stared back at him. There was nothing else more important in that moment than being able to look at Alfred. He hadn’t dared to speak his feelings when they were together earlier, when the world was still pressing inwards, but when there was nothing but the two of them-

The Clan Alpha’s tone of voice was soft, the same way he had spoken to him yesterday. 

My life is in your hands.

“Arthur?” Just the way Alfred said his name was enough to let himself hunger. Though it was clearly a dream, from the unnaturally bright glow behind them and the way he moved as if walking through one of the fields in the summer, his heart still pulsed under his bony ribs.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” the Sept Omega said softly. He wasn’t sure what would transcend the barrier of dream and daylight; if he spoke Alfred’s name, or revealed too much of his location, Francis could hear. “We shouldn’t.”

“What? We’re just going outside, aren’t we?” The Alpha’s smile was unwavering, but his touch wasn’t forceful as he tugged Arthur to his feet. “C’mon, Arthur. I want to see this with you.”

“That’s the worry I have. You want me in particular to see it with you.”

But Alfred wasn’t listening, or at least he didn’t appear to be, as he lifted the lichen curtain, waiting until Arthur was through to remove his arm. It was only then that he lowered his touch to rest around the Omega’s waist, holding him close. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Then he moved his arm to encase Arthur’s, his hand running against Arthur’s forearm to nestle against the back of his hand, lifting it to his lips. “You know how I feel.”

Overwhelmed, Arthur had to pull his eyes away, but he could not move his hand. 

No.

He could, but he didn’t want to. 

Arthur felt a touch of a petal against the bony bridge of his nose, and looked upwards. The long, pale petal could have only come from one flower - a weeping lily. 

The healer thought of the lichen curtain Alfred had just held open for him, the cave and the firestarters he’d seen the Alpha use right before he usually set off for home, and now the weeping lily tree above him, the same as in his premonition.

He resisted the urge to whirl around, in fear or in anticipation he didn’t know. All he knew was that Alfred was holding him, and they were not supposed to be doing this, even in a dream, and the fact that the gods had communicated that winter was finally upon the forest with an enemy Alpha was…

The gods communicating their visions through healers were rare. Usually, they’d end up in familiar places where they would recognise signs - an oddly shaped growth, weather in the distance, to name a few. Arthur’s dreams had only featured other people twice before - once with his bearer and sire in his first year of being a full-fledged healer, then another with only his bearer. Perhaps the gods sending him here, a place so tightly tied up with the Alpha who had changed him so much in the space of a moon, was more than mere confirmation that his previous sets of dreams really did have to do with Alfred.

Abruptly, Arthur felt his heart clench on itself, even when he watched the starlight anointing their mingling footsteps. Even now, when he was denying himself, staying careful to what he might give away in waking, his mind spoke true. 

“It’s…it’s winter soon, isn’t it?” he had to ask. He’d been getting relatively dreamless, peaceful sleep, other than the sets of dreams he had had before. There was nothing urgent that had been communicated in Dietrich’s report that he had come back to listen to; the herb store was bolstered by the fact that all of Arthur’s scavenging, for Alfred or otherwise, was paying off, and their leader had announced that their food store was secure for the winter. The confirmation was, at the very least, useful. 

“Yeah. It’s cold, right? At least, it’s starting to be. You worried?”

“A little,” Arthur admitted. “Though our - our Sept is strong,” he had to pause for a moment when he remembered he was in a vision and not with Alfred in the cave, “winter always brings the threat of sickness, starvation, death. And there’s you.”

Alfred - premonition-Alfred, or whatever he was - smirking like that made Arthur’s stomach knot. He lifted Arthur’s hand to his lips, placing a kiss against his knuckles.

“Wh - what is it?”

“You care, right?” 

The Omega did his best to not sputter. “Gods, yes, I do . Why else would I…”

He had to stop himself. If it got out, if Francis heard…what would happen to Alfred? If Arthur couldn’t at least warn him about the winter, perhaps get him moving, get him a pelt and some more food to keep him alive…

At least the Alpha, walking in his dreams, didn’t have to worry about all of that.

“I miss you so much that I’m sneaking in and stealing your sleep,” he said playfully. The arm around his waist pulled him close, so they were chest to chest. “Sorry.”

Don’t make me give you up. I don’t want to. 

Arthur knew he should think about what the gods were trying to communicate with this premonition. Was it simply a dream of the coming winter?

Or were they trying to give him, at least for a moment, something he should not have?

At least, in his dreams, he could come to care for Alfred - it was so much easier to surrender without everything around them, so much easier to give in to his heart. Now nothing was as black and white as it seemed, and the wanting to be close filled out all emptiness he still held in his chest.

It was impossible, yet Arthur knew himself better than most.

His heart had fallen to an enemy. 

Arthur closed his eyes.

“Please don’t forget me.” Alfred’s voice was treacherously soft.

“I won’t,” he whispered. Alfred’s scent wreathed around him, and he let himself breathe in the wind and sweet-smelling hay, let himself collapse in that perfect embrace. “Don’t be sorry. I want you to stay.”

As expected, that morning, Francis and Arthur reported back to Dietrich with their joint visions of the winter.

With the final confirmation of the healers, preparations for the most dreaded season of the moon cycle kicked in. As tradition for not only the Sept but also the Clan, patrols were momentarily paused to reinforce homes and finish the last of the harvest for the Alphas, and last minute hunting patrols for the Omegas. In past cycles of the moon, Arthur would join them, but as the food store was not at any risk and he had brought a good amount of herbs home in the past few days, he and Francis got to work. 

It wasn’t until two hours after they had started that Dietrich called Francis out momentarily. Being the senior healer, and it being the first formal day of the winter, this was nothing unusual. Arthur continued to sort herbs, doing his best to put aside the dream of Alfred with starlight in his hair. The bustle of the Sept trundled on in the background - Alphas calling out for the others to move, small Omega patrols reporting on their catches then immediately asking to be able to forage for more, the occasional direwolf barking. 

I want to desire you, like an Alpha does his Omega. 

At that memory, that thought of Alfred’s scalloped breathing, his eyes that carried desire seemingly too vast for his strong body, Arthur’s fingers stilled on the bundle he’d been tying. He couldn’t have shown it then, but that moment had been the closest he had come to allowing himself to admit his mutual desire. Those lips had pleaded to be kissed, his tanned skin to be caressed, their longing fulfilled. The Omega felt a hint of illicit pleasure surge down his spine at the way Alfred’s mouth had hung slightly loose - what would it feel like, to be desired by an Alpha like him? He had shown such strength, but the way he touched Arthur made him feel as if he were some sacred being, the feathers adorning an arrow, the lush offerings for the progenitor wolf in the spring. Could Alfred be capable of making him feel more than his own runaway heartbeat, the tingles in the tips of his fingers?

“Arthur!” the Omega heard Francis call his name, causing him to completely wipe his mind clean of the way Alfred’s chest heaved when he was nervous or the wonderful, husky tone of his voice. “Dietrich’s asked me to come to the Gathering today, so I’m heading out. Are you all right with finishing the herb store by sundown?”

“I’ll be done,” Arthur said. The Gathering on the first sunset of winter was customary, and it was rare for any healer to not attend. “Report back later.”

The Beta came over and glanced at his bundle. “Not with that mistake, lumping comfrey in with bearberry,” he said. “Fix that. Anyway, if you’re done early, you can go out hunting tonight. The grace period starts from sunhigh tomorrow, but I doubt anyone wants to fight now it’s winter, so you’ll be fine. Though, between us and the Clan, I’ll be surprised if there’s any prey running in our territory.”

“I’ll forage some berries, see if I can salvage some herbs before they start freezing to death. It’s not much, but it’ll do.” Arthur heard himself speak faster and blanched; it must have been because of that stupid mistake. “I’ll be fine.”

“All right, well. I’ll leave you to it,” Francis sang, immediately in a better mood after leaving the menial task to him.

After watching him go, Arthur put his mind back into the task at hand, and started to remove the leaves of comfrey he had mixed in. Alfred had to wait until tonight.

By the time the night had bloomed over the first winter sky, the group from the Gathering had returned from the meeting point. Arthur had finished his task a little while earlier, and had been checking up on the elders and their hastily reinforced winter den when he noticed they’d come back. Other than a solemn looking Toris, who had decided to leave his direpup home, everyone returned with rather neutral expressions on their faces. Dietrich didn’t call a Sept meeting even after the evening meal, meaning that the Gathering had been thankfully uneventful.

That is, until Francis returned to the now empty medicine den with a drink of water and news. The cold winter wind blustered in briefly as he entered, lighting the den with a firestarter before he gave the second water pouch to Arthur. 

“Did anything out of the ordinary happen?” he had to ask.

“No, just the usual preparation, and the agreement to guarantee peace. But I don’t think either of our tribes are up for a fight. The - the Clan, at least, say a third Alpha’s passed away,” Francis said quietly. “From the fight. Toris is distraught. When we came back, he was almost as quiet as the Clan leader sounded when he announced it.”

“A third Alpha? Is it the one that Toris duelled?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

Arthur’s teeth tightened on the lip of the water pouch. 

“So that’s why he came in looking so upset. Do they blame him? Have they - have they tried to start an argument with him?”

“On the contrary, no,” Francis said, frowning. “They were - It’s strange. I think it’s because there’s been a good chunk of time since the fight, they’ve had time to mourn. So it was rather dull, without any mourning, with the exception of the leader. I think there was another Omega with him who looked upset, but I don’t know. At least, it’s not good if they show weakness to the other tribe, but surely they know we, too, have no willingness to fight during the hardest season of the moon cycle? Winter is a time of almost absolute peace, after all. I don’t know. I don’t think we can fully understand those savages, anyway.”

Maybe I don’t know where home is, anymore.

There was such sadness in Alfred’s eyes as he had admitted to that. 

Perhaps they had truly wanted him dead.

“Are you heading out tonight? I’ll be going to bed for now. It’s been a long day.”

“I - yes, I think,” Arthur heard himself say. His gaze was unfocused and he didn’t correct it. “Just to see if anything will rear its head.”

“All right,” Francis was already heading to the small bathing area, “just don’t freeze to death. Have you changed into warmer clothes?”

Now his fellow healer had called attention to it, Arthur couldn’t help but pick at the high collar protecting his neck. “Yes.”

“iWear one of the pelts; the temperature will drop harshly tonight, as it always does. If you don’t, you’ll surely regret it!”

“Yes, yes. Night.”

Once he was gone, Arthur looked behind him, then reached for another larger, thicker pelt and placed it on top of himself. It was a great deal heavier than he was used to carrying, given that herbs and medium size prey weren’t that heavy, but he’d make his wiry frame bear it all the same. The rest of his hunting gear and a few extras, including a small pot of his own, could hide under his garb, and slipped underneath easily. No matter what happened between them now, Alfred needed to stay warm. Freezing to death was a faster killer than sunfever. 

It took a good while of wandering, but the Omega managed to find a kill in the night. As he waited, the wind bit at his face, but Arthur squinted his eyes and forced himself to stare even more intensely at his target. The night air was fresher, yes, but it was harsher, and the Omega’s scent would be reflected even easier if the winds decided to change direction. Abruptly thankful for Francis’s insistence that he put on another layer, he shifted back against the tree, but not before he gave it a tap with the base of his bow to check. Hollow, but enough to hold his weight, combined with the extra pelt.

If Arthur didn’t make this kill, though, that sound would resonate through Alfred’s stomach. So he had to focus.

The bear lumbered forward, grunting as it went. From how more white fur clung to its head than brown under the cloudy moonlight, it must be an older one. Which made sense, given the fact that winter had fully started to set in as of that morning. Francis’s premonition, as brief as it had been, filled in the gaps left by Alfred in Arthur’s premonition and made sure they could report the same thing to Dietrich.

Though the meat would be tougher, more gamey than a younger bear, they needed every scrap of food they could get. 

The Omega notched his arrow into his bow, took a deep breath, and aimed. One arrow was all it took.

Going up to the cave in the dead of night made Arthur’s stomach turn. He’d never stayed out as late as this, so the forest around him was completely silent, only broken by the whispers of the river leading up to Alfred. 

Would he be angry that Arthur hadn’t been able to get away until now?

The Omega already knew the answer, but he wished it was different. An angry Alfred was much easier to understand than the one that now walked in his dreams. He knew of several reasons why Alfred should hate him - he was from an opposing tribe, one that valued him and wanted him, an Omega who was allowed to do more than a singular role; he was happy with his lot in life, and the Alpha was not. He could defend easier against an angry assailant, not one that enchanted him.

He was uncertain about why exactly Alfred cared for him so deeply, and it had been a long time since he had felt such uncertainty. The rickety stones and the wobbly, winding path reminded him of how precarious a situation they were in. If they were caught, not to mention the fact that seemingly, Alfred’s Clan had written him off as dead, perhaps even wanted him dead…

The notion of being tribeless frightened him, but as he scanned the night sky for the telltale arch of the weeping lily tree, being without Alfred was worse. 

As he rounded the corner to the entrance and the lichen curtain, the Omega noticed none of the usual smoke emanating from the mouth of the cave. Abruptly, he felt the chill of the winter seep into his skin, and his footsteps broke into a run on the sandy floor - at least, as fast as he could with his catch. With the harsh drop of the temperature, the light tunic and belt Alfred had on was no good in keeping him warm. Had he run out of firestarters since the last time they had met? 

“Alfred!” Arthur shouted, frantic, no longer afraid of being caught in the dead of night. The cave was placed so high up in non-territory that unless his Sept broke the no-patrol rule for the first night of winter, there would be no one to catch him. His grip on the hilt of his bow tightened as he opened his mouth, trying to scent anything he could. “Alfred? Alfred!”

Footsteps were the only thing that alerted him to the movement of someone , and so Arthur notched another arrow in his bow. Perhaps after the Gathering, some of the Alphas in the Clan had organised a patrol to find him…or finish the job. Releasing his grip on the bear carcass in case he needed to flee up a tree, where his nimble, agile build would be more than advantageous compared to an Alpha’s body, he advanced forward.

Then the lichen curtain parted to reveal a shivering Alfred. The moonlight made his face even more gaunt, making Arthur immediately lower his weapon.

“Arthur-”

The Omega knew he should have demanded to ask whether Alfred was alone, whether or not this was a decoy or a trap, whether or not the bushes would come alive with assailants, but seeing the quiver of Alfred's broad shoulders and his vulnerable expression made Arthur drop everything. Thank the gods the Alpha had done something productive with his time; if he hadn’t camouflaged the cave entrance and given it more protection, Arthur would have more than likely come back to a corpse. One touch of his skin was enough to confirm his greatest fears-

“Arthur, I didn’t think - I was scared you couldn’t make it here today,” Alfred was already talking, and the Omega could hear his teeth chattering as he spoke. “I didn’t…you shouldn’t have come-”

“Hush,” Arthur helped him back into the cave, then quickly sloughed off the pelt he wore on his shoulders. The collar of his clothing felt protective rather than irritating now. In the dark, he could barely make out the shape of the dead fire as he scrambled for the firestarters. “Put this on. Can you sit on top of your sleeping area for now? The stones are freezing cold tonight,” he said, words coming out fast and hard.

Alfred gratefully slipped on the pelt, but he was still watching. “Why - why did you come?”

Those pining words rippled through Arthur’s ears, and he had to take a breath to calm himself down. Their feelings meant nothing if Alfred froze to death by dawn, and judging by the question that merited an obvious answer, he wasn’t doing very well. “Sit down, then I’ll talk. I need to get you warm first.”

Once the fire had started coming back to life, a hint of smoke wafting from the small hole made in the curtain, Arthur ventured back out to haul the bear carcass in from outside. Since it wasn’t the sweltering height of summer, he wouldn’t have to worry about gregarious crows pilfering the meat. 

By the time he had the bear inside, though, he noticed Alfred had moved his sleeping materials and himself near the now bright fire. Here, stark against the stone, he couldn’t help but observe how light the Clan’s clothing was in comparison to the Sept’s, though the dark blue was almost black in the poor lighting of the cave - the pelt and the tunic that Arthur had thought he had been wearing were lying at his feet.

That symptom immediately kicked the Omega’s healing instincts into action. There had been cases where an Alpha or Omega, having been stranded for a night alone in winter, had been found dead in the morning with barely any of their clothes on their bodies. Francis had told him that earlier healers had believed either wild animals had torn them apart or that they had been attacked by members of the Clan, which had started conflicts. However, they had finally begun to understand that when a person’s temperature had started to drop to critical levels, there was a chance they’d be compelled to remove their clothing, possibly by some cruel trick of the gods to hasten their deaths, or shorten the time of their suffering. Either way, if someone got to this point, especially Alphas whose body temperatures tended towards heat, the situation was dire.

But Alfred was not alone. Now Arthur was here, there was no way he would let him freeze to death.

Leaving the bear in front of the fire - it could be prepared later, hunger was something that could be fixed easier - Arthur moved in front of Alfred, but not so much that he completely blocked out the heat.

“Alfred, you need to put these back on.”

“It’s a little…little too warm,” the Alpha’s voice was weak, jumping all over the place and teeth chattering. Arthur could barely detect his scent. “I don’t know…I’m trying to keep them on, but my head…”

“If you get too cold, there’s a chance this happens,” Arthur said firmly, pulling the pelt over Alfred's broad shoulders. “Don’t resist. I’ve brought a pot, and I’ll be hanging it over the fire to get you some boiling water. If you don’t warm up, you’ll die.”

“No - no, I can’t. I can’t, please, don’t-” 

Arthur had never heard the Alpha sound this frightened, and it seeped into his heart, taking root there. Suddenly, the very real possibility of losing him threatened to paralyse his limbs, pull him into the cavern between Alfred’s chest and arms, and fade along with him. 

“Alfred,” Arthur pressed his forehead to his, recoiling at how cold he was. “Alfred, you need to listen to me. Put your clothes back on, no matter how hot you feel right now. I’ll get some water from the river. I need to keep you alive.”

“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to leave - I don’t want to leave you .”

“You won’t - not on my watch. Put them on.”

After hearing the sound of Alfred slipping his clothing back on - he wasn’t ready to face the Alpha’s nudity just yet - and looking back after he was done, Arthur moved outwards to the river with his pouch, only being able to see wisps of his breath coagulating in the thin air. If Francis hadn’t let him go outside tonight…

Those thoughts made him run back to Alfred’s hideout as fast as his trembling legs would take him. He had to fight back the strange tears gathering in his eyes; if the Alpha saw how scared he was, he would surely panic. Arthur placed the water pouch near the fire - there wasn’t time to unpack the small pot he’d brought with him - and prayed to the gods, lips moving wordlessly. 

Please let Alfred make it through this night.

“I didn’t know I’d run out of firestarters until it was too late.” The Alpha was pronouncing his words properly again, which was a good sign. “Then I…I don’t know how to make more, so I…I did my best.”

“The first night of winter was tonight. Francis and I received a sign, but our leader asked Francis to attend the winter Gathering, and I had to sort a large number of herbs, so I couldn’t get away until just now. I needed to find you food, and there was just - I didn’t know. I thought you’d be all right.”

“I am now, now you’re here,” Alfred mumbled. Arthur reached out gingerly to touch his skin and felt the reflection of the heat from the fire. Now that Alfred’s clothes were staying on his body and he wasn’t shaking like a leaf, the tingles from before had returned. “Arthur…I was so scared. Until you turned up, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Arthur looked at where his hand rested, unchallenged, on Alfred’s forearm. “Do…do you want me to come to you?”

“Is that - is that okay?”

“Sharing body heat is good for warmth,” the healer admitted. That was one of two reasons - the one which he could freely admit to. “I won’t have you die, after all that we’ve been through.”

Alfred smiled a little. “Isn’t your body heat usually colder than an Alpha's, though?”

“Shut it and open up,” Arthur huffed. At least Alfred still had the energy to jest; now Arthur was here, his chances of surviving had shot up dramatically. If the Alpha survived the night, he would make it. Arthur should have begun to go home, but Alfred needed him…

To his surprise, the Alpha shifted his legs into a sitting position from the crouched one he had been in, opening up his chest and giving a lap for Arthur to sit in. Like an idiot, Arthur felt himself become instantly flustered.

“You okay with sitting like this?”

“...maybe it’s best we lie down, your back to the fire.” Anything to stave off the sudden spurt of embarrassment he felt. “You need to retain as much warmth as you can, and having me in the front will stop some of the heat.”

With a shiver, Alfred did as he was told. 

“Should we close the lichen more?”

“No, we risk being poisoned by the fumes of the fire. We can fully close the side that’s nearest to us, but the other half can’t be too tightly shut. We need to-”

Arthur heard his words abruptly fall when Alfred’s hand reached out to graze his forearm. He only had the time to take a deep breath before the Alpha pulled him to his chest, giving Arthur space to pull away. The Omega paused for one moment, fearing for whatever that would be unsaid in the dark, before he rested his hands on Alfred’s chest. The firm muscle surprised him - after all, he’d been preoccupied with the wounds instead of the Alpha’s strength once he was certain the other man would not try to kill him - but the rapidly beating heart even more so.

His green eyes drifted to his side, where he could see Alfred’s arm hesitate over his torso, moving lower to his waist. Though he as an Omega had never touched an Alpha romantically, in the line of his healer work, he had a deep knowledge of their anatomy, and had seen couples in the Sept camp, whereas Alfred had to have been shunned by the Omegas in his Clan camp, not to mention there had been no opportunity to be intimate with another…

Any other Alpha would have gripped his torso by now, pulling him close, not waiting for Arthur to give his permission. Yet as Alfred was slowly warming, being rescued from the brink of death, he could not cure his nervousness so quickly.

“S-Sorry,” the Alpha withdrew his arms once he noticed Arthur’s gaze, “I don’t want to…you know. Especially since you said you needed time to think. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

“I’ve had time to think. I’ve been thinking about it ever since last night, and…” Arthur took a deep breath before meeting Alfred’s eyes, with a gentle tilt of his chin. His left hand came upward and he reached up to touch the Alpha’s face, biting back a gasp as his fingertips made contact. When Alfred didn’t flinch, he placed his thumb just on the outside of his mouth. “You wouldn’t hurt me. As confusing - as ridiculous as that sounds, knowing how we met and what we are, I know you wouldn’t.”

Even as he was trembling, Alfred’s happiness was written all over his handsome face. “I’m - I’m glad,” he mumbled. “I didn’t - the last thing I wanted you to feel was fear. Then, can I…can I touch you?”

“Yes,” Arthur said, without any of the hesitation he was expecting from himself. He reached out with his right hand, the one that was on his outer side, and reached for Alfred’s arm, wrapping it around his torso. The loose fabric of the sleeve made him think of the Clan again, their faraway open fields so removed from the Sept’s forest. What he didn’t expect was the Alpha’s hand on his body being joined by his other hand, then both of them sliding slowly down Arthur’s tunic and pelt, slightly scrunching up the fabric as they cupped tightly against his waist. The Omega’s gaze flew upwards, his mouth parted in an 'o' of shock, and he caught a whiff of the Alpha’s returning scent. It was still faint, but it was there.

“Is this all right?”

“Yes.” It was the only coherent response Arthur could think of; the Alpha’s hands on his body had slotted so easily against him, as if he was the blade to the Omega’s hilt. The chill didn’t even ward him off; like this, they were sharing body heat. 

But it wasn’t the most they could be sharing.

Taking a deep breath, averting his gaze from Alfred, Arthur pressed his chest against his, moving his hands to the side to make way. The cold felt like it lifted his spine from his back, but after a moment, it subsided to yield to the steady pounding of Alfred’s heartbeat. Unable to help his curiosity, Arthur folded his fingers one over the other on the surface of his muscle, unable to stop himself from admiring the strength. He’d always thought of it as just another firm surface, resilient to wounds, impossible to tug debris out of if an unfortunate Alpha had something stuck inside it…but never something attractive.

“You look exhausted,” Alfred murmured. Arthur felt the heat of Alfred's face press softly against his hair and bit his lip. “Do you want to sleep here tonight? It’s freezing.”

“I’ll…” Arthur began to prepare a stiff speech internally about how he really shouldn’t stay, that his Sept needed him in the morning, that Francis would be irritated if he wasn’t there when he woke, but all those words died down when he tilted his head back to look at Alfred. The desperation that had filled the Alpha’s blue eyes had now morphed to something deeper, darker, something he wanted to taste. 

“I’ll stay with you tonight. I need to make sure you’ll be able to stay alive through tonight; if you can, then you’ll be out of the woods. I’ll get you some of the water when it’s heated, but warming you up like this will be sufficient for now.”

The little grin on Alfred’s lips made it seem as if he wanted to tease him, but he didn’t. “You okay like this? You’re giving me all your body heat.”

The Omega swallowed. “We can always make more.”

What he meant by that, he wasn’t sure, but he lost all regret at saying those words when the blue in Alfred’s eyes turned darker. The Alpha’s scent thickened in his nose, and he heard him take a shuddering breath. The grip on his waist grew harder, but not so much that it hurt.

“So…” Alfred cleared his throat, “So you’re staying tonight?”

“I can leave, if you don’t want me to stay.”

“Don’t leave. Don’t-” the Alpha shifted closer, moving both of their bodies much, much closer, “don’t. I want you here. If - if that’s all right” 

The Omega didn’t move out of the embrace. It seemed that with every passing moment, touching Alfred like this, his urge to move away slipped farther and farther away. He could only study the shifts in light on his hands, how strangely fitting they looked on Alfred’s chest, just underneath his tribal necklace.

How unbecoming from an Alpha, asking permission to touch me even when we’re like this.

“Do you feel warmer?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, then. Is your entire body…” Arthur lifted his head to make sure the pelt was fully covering both of their bodies, “...good. Try to get some rest.”

Alfred nodded. Once Arthur was resting his head on the mat, though, he felt the Alpha press his lips against the top of his head, eliciting a full body shiver. Alfred's lips were so warm, bringing back the heated curiosity in his chest - what would those lips feel without the barrier of his hair, with only his skin to touch? The desire threatened to rip through his dry throat, a desire that could only be quenched as he pressed his face against Alfred’s body, daring to shakily inhale the strong scent that was slowly returning. He’d never felt anything like this.

“You saved my life again.”

“So it seems I did,” the Omega spoke into his chest, his heart centimetres from his lips. “I’d better see you the next time we meet, all warm and alive. Do you understand me?”

Alfred laughed, a sound that filled out his frame, a sound that resonated through Arthur’s mouth and into his own body. “Yeah. I promise. There’s no way I can leave you, now.”

With that, Arthur allowed his limbs to slacken, his tension to disappear, his body to surrender. Though he was technically giving Alfred his heat, it felt as if the Alpha was giving him equal warmth in return.

As he slipped off into sleep, he felt the soft vibration of a kiss into his hair once more, but he couldn’t stay awake for Alfred’s gaze watching him drift off, the Alpha curling his larger body over his, his blue eyes chips of ice as he protected him from whatever dared threaten his Omega in the night.

Chapter Text

As the winter sunk its claws into the forest, the nights grew longer and longer, stretching over the looming treetops that circled the Sept camp.

Therefore, the time Arthur spent with Alfred grew more and more.

From what the Sept Omega knew about the Clan, there was no wooing ceremony, no flora or fauna that helped communicate true feelings of devotion - another reason why the Sept thought them savages. The only ceremonies they shared were ones for the dead, as far as he knew. Alfred had told him about the process of granting direwolf companions in their tribe, how eligible Omegas and direpups were placed in the same den for a night, and whichever Omega a puppy settled next to was considered their partner, and Arthur had done his best to not wince. The wolf dens in the Sept were certainly not a place he’d imagine an Alpha settling in for the night, and the assignment of the puppies seemed unthinkable without the progenitor wolf’s participation. 

Yet Arthur pressed his hand to the side of his neck every morning, unable to help both the fear and the excitement at the fact that it seemed to be changing with the increasing amount of time he was spending with the Alpha. He had seen this before, with young Omegas complaining of feeling flushed and out of sorts, waking up slick-laden and scenting pheromones from across the camp. With those situations, Arthur’s expertise was much better than Francis’s dulled pheromonal receptors - one inhale of an Omega’s scent and he could tell their bodies were starting to catch up with their minds.

As a healer, Arthur’s advice to them was to not fight it. He’d double-check with Francis when it came to Alphas, but the advice was largely the same. 

But with Alfred…things felt different. Everything was different.

The rest of that hectic quarter moon had condensed into endless days and even longer nights. More than any other season, Arthur would hear the fledglings run around each other, their boots starting to crunch against the falling snow, being occasionally told off by a passing Alpha or Omega, accompanied by the bustle of conversation and a much closer-knit Sept. Winter, and the above average stock of food going into the season, kept most of the tribe members at home. Low chatter and warming hands filled the dens during dusk, and Francis and Arthur now took the meals from the afternoons and evenings to the elders’ den right before everyone else was served. Though Arthur still couldn't forgive the Clan for their transgressions against Alfred, they kept their word, and the truce held. From the closeness of the Sept, and from what Arthur had heard from Alfred, the peace would hold until, at least, the spring.

I think it’ll be fine, Arthur. You know. No one likes fighting during the winter, and we’ve lost two of our Alphas already. Oh - heh, I mean, they’ve lost me too, but I…

Well, Arthur remembered saying, your tribe’s loss is my gain, isn’t it?

He’d sucked a breath in so tenderly then, something Arthur wasn’t sure an Alpha was capable of doing until now. Alfred was looking at him, and the Omega’s cheeks were so red that he knew he couldn’t look back, especially as he saw the corners of his lips raise into a smile.

Alfred seemed to do that a lot, around him. Arthur guessed it was because he barely had an opportunity to do that in the Clan, where his guard always had to be up, but with him, it was there all the time. His talk of what he would do if he were to lead, the reforms he’d make to limiting direwolf muzzles and leads until only if they were necessary because they were free creatures, the layout of the dens to protect the elders and the nursery, how he’d like the sort of voting system the Sept had, how much he wanted to hear what Arthur thought…

The rhythm of the Alpha’s voice, echoing in that cave, was so different from the harsh wind blowing against the Omega’s chest. Was it fair to blame him for how peaceful he felt?

Water from the nearby lake rippled just outside the field of Arthur’s sight. The melting sun was reflected on its surface. It was only when a shadow darted across that the Omega did his best to pull himself together, but it was no good.

The scrawny squirrel he’d caught strained against his belt as he tried to notch an arrow into his bow, but it was too late. The rabbit that had dared to show its face scampered past the sharp flint that buried itself just shy of its hind legs, leaving Arthur to curse under his breath as he started scaling back down the tree. The sound would have surely alerted any nearby living creature foolish enough to pop themselves out of their burrows. He’d have something to bring back to the Sept, yes, but one less rabbit for their stores. He truly hoped that the deer that he and Alfred had caught wandering on the outskirts of Sept territory would head deeper into the woods, so that the dwindling Omega patrols could have something more meaty to bring home…

Arthur bit his lip. Alfred’s smile, his mouth over the rim of the bowl of soup Arthur had somehow managed to prepare well enough for him, coated the Omega’s stomach with slow nervousness, like honeycomb in the summer. Yet in the moments he walked up to the cave, he’d felt exactly like that cursed rabbit.

He couldn’t help but remember the incident with the comfrey and the bearberry; there had been similar incidents these past few days. There had been one where he’d forgotten to mix in cloverleaf for a cough, meaning that Francis had to send him back with a crushed berry mix and a stern warning to be polite; an appointment at the nursery he’d almost forgotten about, where he’d woken up so late that he’d missed the afternoon meal; and now missing an otherwise easy shot. If nothing, it would be another story to tell his Alpha in the cave. 

At least missing the rabbit could be justified compared to his healer duties, the Omega thought as his shoes touched the ground and the developing layer of snow. The Sept wouldn’t know, and no one would see. Francis didn’t have an inventory of all the prey in the forest, unlike with their herbs and their fellow septmates. Arthur was painfully aware of the fact that Francis was far from incompetent, rather, he was laid back. If the Omega returned home too exhausted, or at least showed signs of not just sleeping outside as he claimed he was, then his fellow healer could order him to stay within the camp more, making sneaking out far more dangerous.

So that was what he told Alfred that night, after they’d finished preparing the soup.

Arthur looked up to where the Alpha was sitting down with him; he was still recovering from that freezing day, after all. He’d been well enough to venture out to watch Arthur hunt the wandering deer and gather a few materials, but other than that, the Alpha had been obeying Arthur’s orders and resting. A fresh laurentia poultice lay on top of his remaining, severe wound.

“I have to…we have to stop staying up so late at night, speaking.” 

The Alpha’s face, now completely free of bandages and ointment, was even more bewitching than it had been before, though it was now contorted in concern. 

“Did something happen? With Francis, I mean. Or the other Sept members?”

Arthur shook his head. His slender fingers kneaded at his forearm, the gentleness that soothed the bitterness in his throat. “No, I just- Francis noted I was distracted this quarter moon. If I hadn’t already had a habit from when I was a fledgling of sleeping outside, I wouldn’t have been able to come see you every night.”

“Do we have to stop-”

“No,” Arthur blurted, too fast for an unmated Omega, too fast for someone who had not confessed his feelings. “No, no. I’m just saying that I - we - need to be more careful.” He was tripping over his words, even more than he usually did with Alfred, and that was saying a lot. He’d never, never doubted his own speech until the Clan Alpha had come into his life. 

The nervousness only grew stronger as Alfred lowered his face a little, connecting their gazes together. Shadows from the fire made his eyes darker than the sky blue colour they usually were. A few strands of his golden hair fell over his face, and Arthur resisted the urge to brush them away.

“Hey.” Alfred’s voice was teasing. “You’re holding back again, aren’t you?”

“I- idiot-”

“You’re doing that thing, with your words,” the Alpha grinned as he shuffled closer, leg first, then arm. All the previous instincts of moving away from him had been lost over the past quarter moon, and Arthur didn’t fight his sharp exhale as Alfred’s scent rushed through his senses. “Didn’t I say I wanted to hear you before, when we talked about my daily life in the Clan?”

“Yes, but that was different.”

“How? You know even more about what your mentor’s saying, and you’ve protected yourself from being- being caught, so far. If I was back home,” Alfred snorted, “I’d have been caught already.”

Before Arthur could stop himself, he had to ask. “Would that have stopped you?”

Alfred’s blue eyes rounded in the light of the fire. The Omega’s idle fingers made themselves known, tingling with the urge to brush away the hair in his eyes. 

“From seeing you?”

He couldn’t find the words to succinctly reply, so he merely nodded.

“Arthur,” Alfred murmured, so very tenderly that Arthur was certain he would break, “even if I hadn’t been on death’s door like I have been this half moon, I’d have fought to see you. There’s so many places in Clan territory I would have hidden in the dead of night just to catch a glance of you, so many other places I’d risk my life in the Sept territory just to talk to you like we’ve been doing now. Arthur-” he moved closer to the Omega as he shifted his gaze, overwhelmed, “I’m serious. I’m glad you’re as protected from suspicion as you are now. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You could go on living your life in peace.”

Arthur felt the ghost of a touch over his face, then it was gone as quickly as it had come. He daren’t open his eyes.

The Clan Alpha’s voice fell to a whisper. Arthur had never been spoken with like this. 

“Do you think I could?”

“If you’d met anyone else outside of your Clan, would you feel the same?”

“No, I wouldn’t. Not everyone would have bothered to go out of their way to save my life like you have, not everyone-” Alfred had to break off to swallow, he was talking so fast, “not everyone would spend so much time, risk so much to be with me. It’s cold when you come out here at night, isn’t it? And you say you’re exhausted…you shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We shouldn’t.” Arthur heard his own words against the crackling of the fire, the scalloping of Alfred’s breath. “I…I know, you asked me. About what my answer would be.”

“Don’t want to rush you. I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

The Omega resisted the urge to sigh - sometimes, Alfred’s earnestness was too much. “You’ve already tried to kill me. I’ll be all right.”

There was a pause, then the two of them collapsed into laughter.

“Arthur, you’re horrible! I didn’t mean it.”

“There you go. I prefer your smiling face more than your overly devastated one.”

At that, the conversation died for a little, and Arthur fought the urge to fold himself into his Alpha and his strong arms, wanting to touch that chest for himself now he didn’t have to examine wounds there. These were the moments that punctuated his day to day life in the Sept, half of the moments he dared to want from Alfred. The crackling of the fire and the whistle of the wind had faded in the background, but their mingling breaths remained, along with the heat. 

Then Alfred reached out with his hand, letting it hover over Arthur’s cheek in a wordless question. The touch sent sparks against his skin, as if the fireplace was right up against him. Arthur wondered, through the haze of the Alpha’s scent and his own want, if it was his imagination that coloured Alfred’s cheeks red as their eyes met again. The tension was so thick that neither of them dared to breathe properly. 

“Can I touch you?”

Arthur barely heard himself reply.

“Please.”

The Omega felt the trembling, feather-soft touches of Alfred’s fingers on his cheek. One, then two, then four all at once, so faint that he felt himself shudder. The Alpha’s fingers stayed there as he reoriented himself, moving so close that their knees touched. Arthur knew that underneath his clothing, surely, his skin was scarlet from the contact.

What he didn’t know was when this had all started - the touching. It had been so inconspicuous, before, and the moment they had realised, they had stopped. But now it was deliberate, and he could tell neither of them wanted to stop.

Then slowly, painfully slowly, Alfred laid his thumb on Arthur's bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly. He didn’t take his eyes off the Omega, not for one second. 

“You’re-” Arthur stuttered at the same time as his heartbeat, “you’re going farther than yesterday.”

“Do you not want me to?”

“I…no, it’s not as if I don’t want you to.” 

“You’re holding back here, too,” the Alpha knelt down a little to lift Arthur’s face to his, giving the Omega space to move, to retreat, to advance. 

Arthur swallowed, hearing the sound resonate against the cold walls of the cave, and made his choice, pressing his forehead against Alfred’s. The shock of the contact was felt immediately, but even moreso for Alpha and Omega - the shift in scent was palpable. 

It’s you doing this, Arthur thought to himself as he felt Alfred shiver. You, making me lose my control.

The Omega was not entirely certain about how scents shifted, but in the refractory period that divided septmate and mate, there would be changes in a couple’s scents. The signs were not nearly as full blown for him and Alfred, at least, or there would be a great deal of changes that would give them away - an abrupt, strong sweetening far more overpowering than the slight changes Arthur had been cautiously noting in the morning, an insatiable urge to be closer to one’s partner that would even disrupt patrols, increased aggression for both Alpha and Omega on what they perceived as potential competition, and for the Omega, an abnormal heat.

Embarrassingly enough, Arthur checked in between his legs every morning, during the small time frame when he was alone, finding nothing out of the ordinary. And his behaviour was normal around Alfred, and vice versa. Being a young, unmated Alpha, one that desired him and one who could hopefully sense what Arthur dared not say, he would definitely be affected, so the lack of strange behaviour was welcome. He still had control. 

Yet with Alfred’s handsome face so close, the fluttering of his dark eyelashes on Arthur’s eyelids as they closed their eyes to savour each other’s breathing, the tip of his nose threatening to brush his, and his lips tantalising and warm, the Omega found his self control gnaw at his ribcage with increasing ferocity. How many more moments of peace would they have like this, where Arthur trusted himself to not pin Alfred against the ground and make him his, where Alfred trusted himself to not let a caress against Arthur's cheek turn into his teeth buried into his neck.

He knew that if he said the words, each a series of their own small surrenders, Alfred would stop holding himself back, too. He had said it to him a thousand times every time he walked in his dreams.

I want to desire you, like an Omega does his Alpha.

Give your first kiss to me. 

Give yourself to me, and I’ll do the same.

Don’t go.

Even in his dreams, Arthur dare not say it, dare not break the rules of inter-tribe relations. He could not fully trust his mouth in the waking world. There was no Alfred in the Sept, and the next logical conclusion was to look the border over. Besides, if a mating was to be conducted properly, those three words of utter confession were always saved for a Sept ceremony, after all. 

But with Alfred like this, right in front of him, his hand touching his face and his thumb parting his lip, the Clan and the Sept faded into the snowfall, and Arthur let him in. 

Yet Alfred didn’t push back by connecting their lips together for the first time, breaking any more unspoken rules than he had already. Out of his blurry vision, augmented by the long shadows and the sheer exhilaration of being so close to the Alpha, Arthur could see him hesitate.

“Wait. You said- The other day, when we were talking about it, you mentioned a Sept ritual, right? About the…yeah.”

Arthur blinked. He hadn’t expected this.

“Yes. But if you don’t- I thought you wouldn’t want to. There’s no such thing for the Clan, right? It’s only for the Sept, so it’s not needed.”

Alfred shifted his head in a movement that was so minuscule Arthur wouldn’t have known what it was if they weren’t so close. 

“Will it expel me from the Clan, if I follow it?”

“Pardon? No, not at all,” the Omega started to say, sensing the hint of mirth in Alfred’s words, but it made him pause. Toris’s guilt had sagged over his nimble frame for the entirety of the day since the Gathering. Even the man Alfred dueled, the enemy closest to the position of leader who had essentially put him in this situation in the first place, was certainly mourning Alfred’s loss more than all of his clanmates, his family notwithstanding. It was not only him - the news that there had been another death within the tribes had subdued the mood in the Sept that night. He doesn’t know.

“Alfred?”

The Alpha’s eyes darted back to his, a ripple of droplets against a brook. It took everything for the Omega to not be distracted. “Yeah?”

“I…I have to tell you something.”

“Sure.”

“At the Gathering of the first winter, they - your tribe, they-” Arthur took a breath, “they announced your death.”

Alfred’s smile immediately faded, and he had to pull away. The loss of the Alpha’s warmth caused the cave to flood back into Arthur’s consciousness, and he felt the chill, the lack of forgiveness within the stone. Though the cave’s ceiling arched decently high enough over their heads, Arthur felt as if it were pushing down on him, forcing himself to square his shoulders, making sure he did not follow the movement of the Alpha’s body.

“They- Were you there?”

“No, I was at the camp. Francis - he went - told me about it when he returned home.”

“Did my sire say anything?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur said. “But the report was that they announced your death rather…Francis said it was dull, but the leader sounded quite unhappy when he spoke of it. There was someone else, but he said he didn’t know him.”

The Alpha’s expression twisted, his eyes glazing over, distorting his earlier happiness. It made Arthur think of the unused back of the cave, the darkness lapping up at the side of his paltry bedding.

“...my sire never was good with emotions. He’s rather stoic," Alfred said, half talking to himself, half to Arthur, “can’t show weakness to his Clan. Can’t. Especially when I’m pretty much the one thing my clanmates disagree on is how he treats me. But he thinks I’m dead, and my family does too…”

“You can try to travel back in your condition now, if you so wish-”

“No!” Alfred’s gaze snapped back into focus, and he turned back to Arthur. “No. I’m not leaving you.”

“Don’t you worry they’ll come back for you?” 

“They might not find me, since we’re not in any tribe’s territory, and this side is much closer to the Sept’s. It’s a long trek, even more so in the winter. Besides, there’s no reason they’d care enough to come in the night, which is when you visit. You’ll be safe.”

Arthur shook his head. “It’s not me I’m worried about. What happens when you get home? Do you think things will return to how they were? What if they won’t accept you? Your sire is the leader, yes, but what if all this time, you return completely in one piece, something that the others might not want?”

“No, they- they won’t go back to how they were. I can’t see my Clan like I used to. I used to-” Alfred cleared his throat, having to breathe out a long sigh as he looked up at the ceiling of the cave. “I used to want to be as loyal as I could. Wanted to fit in. Wanted to make my sire proud, and the rest of my family. But maybe it’s better if I’m not there at all. Them leaving me here is enough proof, isn’t it?”

He sounded so despondent that Arthur wasn’t sure how to comfort him. A loner in his Clan, now functionally Clanless for the winter…

“I want to go back, one day,” the Alpha admitted. “I want to. Say goodbye, if I can, to my sire and bearer, and Matthew. But they, y'know...they won't let me. Heh, it’s…it’s actually kinda sad, because two moons ago, I had a new little sister. And now she won’t even remember me, if I’m driven out of the Clan for good.”

“What do you want to do for now, then?”

“Stay here. Give it a think.” Alfred pressed his thumb into his palm, still bearing a weal from the fight. The tribal necklace he wore caught the gleam of the fire as he fidgeted. “I don’t know, honestly. It’s not Alpha-like of me, but what is is the fact that I want to keep on seeing you. I- Knowing I’m dead to them will let our relationship be easier, right?”

The way he said it made Arthur’s chest clench. Alfred had just realised that his family thought he was dead, and the Clan he had worked so hard for would rather prefer to believe he was dead than search for him, yet he worried about Arthur.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Arthur said as he extended his hand. The sound of skin brushing skin made his head light, especially coupled with the sensation of Alfred’s calloused palm against his. He’d treated Alphas, knew their skin hardened more due to their duties, but as with everything else, Alfred was different. Instead of treating it just as part of his duties, he wanted to touch him more.

The Alpha glanced at him. “Are you sure? With a…with a potentially Clanless savage, like me?”

“Weren’t you the one telling me to not call you that? I come back every night for you. Purely you.”

Once more, the Alpha’s blue eyes softened. He gently tugged Arthur’s arm forward, placing them on top of the bedding he had prepared over the last quarter moon, keeping them warm. The Omega’s head tilted back slightly to look up at him, and he let himself forget that he was vulnerable in this position.

“It’s no good, you having to steal time for me, for us to see each other,” Alfred murmured, using his free hand to brush away a strand of Arthur’s sandy blond hair. Just like that, the Omega was aware of the dusky vision brought by his own half-lidded eyes, the curve inward against his cheek, the Alpha’s shuddering breath as he spoke. “You risk so much every time you come here.”

Let me anoint the water from the river on our lips. 

That was the ceremony for the Sept: a touch of water drawn from a source closest to where the couple had confessed, two fingers to the other’s lips, before sealing their bond with a kiss. The tradition had arisen forever ago, based on the lake that edged into tribal territory, and also the body of water most of the ceremonies were conducted with. He and Francis used to joke about how the medicine den’s pool, an independent source, was the most untainted water source in the tribe. The confession ceremony was a simple one - not as binding as a mating ritual. Water effortlessly held memory, yet could just as easily be made impermanent. It was, after all, just a kiss.

The corners of Alfred’s lips lifted, and he moved his hand slowly, up Arthur’s raised skin, trailing against his forearm, keeping his touch treacherously feather-soft until he reached the base of the Omega’s neck. He lifted his hand further away from the especially tender skin on the side of his neck, but the teasing with his fingertips still drew a wanting sound from Arthur’s lips. If even the ghost of Alfred's touch made the heat in his knees melt, turning into weakness, what would happen if the Alpha chose to place his teeth against his flesh?

“You shouldn’t do that,” Alfred’s tone was teasing, too, and it was the only thing Arthur heard other than the shift of fabric that accompanied his move closer. Their knees were touching again, like they had been before. “You’re a smart man, aren’t you?”

The Omega could barely catch his own breath. “Y-Yes.”

Alfred moved forward. His mouth moved to the outside of Arthur’s ear, and the rush of the wind made his entire body quiver, drawn taut. He could hear the wetness lining the Alpha’s lips as he opened his mouth, sensed the deep breath, inhaling the scent that now wreathed around him.

“Then you’d know what kind of trouble, what kind of wickedness you’ll invite, by making those noises, behaving like this.”

Arthur couldn’t pull his gaze away from Alfred’s face, and parted his lips. 

“You make any trouble worthwhile.”

The next morning, Arthur did his absolute best to focus, but everything felt jarring, emerging from the darkness of the cave. Though he and Alfred had slept earlier than they had on previous nights, his head was still filled with the memories of the stars in the river that he always waded in to clear his scent, a pale imitation of the excitement that rounded the Alpha’s eyes. When he woke up that morning in the medicine den, he was alone, and so he allowed himself to reach out to touch his own forearm, imagining the Alpha’s roughened fingers in his place, his raspy breathing against his ear.

Can I touch you? 

The Omega let himself savour that memory, and forced himself to his feet. There were things to be done. Alfred would have to wait until later that night. 

When he got out of the medicine den to see whatever was going on at the heart of the Sept that morning as he usually did, he scented something sour that he couldn’t help but wince at. His first instinct was a wound - but how would that have happened, if the unspoken winter peace was holding? A wound smelling like that would have been allowed to fester for several nights, and surely a denmate wouldn’t have let it go on for that long.

“Glad to see you’re awake at an hour suiting the gods,” Francis sidled up to him, folding his arms as he relaxed against the rock forming the base of Dietrich’s den. “Is everything all right with you?”

“Got some good, dreamless sleep,” Arthur said coolly. “What’s that smell?”

“Smell? Oh, you must mean the bit of meat that - well, this morning, two of the Omegas thought they were wasting all their time playing with the snow inside and outside of camp, and took themselves to see if they could take something down. They caught a wobbly-legged fawn.”

Arthur’s thick eyebrows raised slightly. “A fawn? That’s odd - they surely wouldn’t be straying far from their herd.”

“They reported sightings of larger hoof prints on the way back. There could be a herd passing by - the Omegas have scrambled together another patrol to go out after the afternoon meal.”

“What about the smell, then?”

“You know the fledglings, not fully secure in making clean kills unlike you and the others,” Francis snickered. “A good job, yes, but the flank especially was messy. I’m not sure about a strong stench, but there’s a smell, for sure.”

Arthur squinted against the breeze lightly scraping across the healers’ faces. At least new snowfall had stopped, at least for now. “Well, if that’s all it is, that’s fair enough. Is there anything you’d like me to do for today?”

“Actually, yes,” Francis said. “One of the Alphas earlier mentioned how his mate was itching to begin resuming her normal duties, but when I visited her earlier, her milk hadn't stopped yet. It’s been eight moons since she gave birth, so I think it’s safe to administer medication. Winter is when the nursery’s less stressed, after all, so I don’t think it’s an unfair request.”

“Hmm, she might want to avoid the spring rush. I could - what did she want, again? Did she want the bitter variant that would clear it up in a quarter moon, or the slower regiment with the marigolds?”

“She said that if she could survive childbirth, she’d survive a tougher regimen. Which is understandable.”

“Oh, all right, then,” Arthur said as he got back to his feet from where he’d been leaning on the rocks as well. “I’ll fix that up for her before the afternoon meal.”

“Do you remember where you put the mint?” Francis said in a sing-song voice. Usually, Arthur would have been mildly irritated at his carefree attitude, but more than ever, he appreciated it. Though he truly should snap at him more these days; if he’d become too lax with his fellow healer’s behaviour, the Beta would become even more insufferable, or he’d suspect Arthur’s lessened snippiness.

“I sorted the bundles when you were at the Gathering,” Arthur snarked over his shoulder as he walked back to the den. Ducking underneath the curtain, he realised, for the first time, that the material was harsher than the lichen he brushed up against every night now. The difference must not have been that much, given that the lichen Alfred had pulled it from was near the Sept border, but it pricked harshly.

Giving himself a little shake, Arthur mentally ran through the list of ingredients. Stopping an Omega’s milk from coming was routine. Celery with the leaves still attached, the most pungent bundles of parsley they kept, a sprig of rosemary, then a large bundle of mint. The scents stung the inside of Arthur’s nose as he worked, but at least it didn’t make his eyes water like some of the vegetables the Alphas grew. The juices soaked into his fingers as he prepared enough portions to last the Omega for a quarter moon, and after he was done, he patted down his hands instead of wiping them completely clean. The cold took away the natural dampness of a human’s skin, a bane more detrimental in the winter than any other season. 

The Omega had to stop to wipe at his nose. The stench from the carcass - it must have been a messy kill - combined with the pungent smell of the herb store was making him a little dizzy. Had he not slept well last night, in Alfred’s presence? As surprisingly controlled as the Alpha was, despite being an unmated one who had blatantly declared his feelings towards him and having it all but explicitly reciprocated, he was still an unmated Alpha. Perhaps something had been altered, even more so than usual.

There was something else that poked at the back of Arthur’s mind, but he quickly shook it off. If he didn’t finish this task, he wouldn’t be able to make it to Alfred's by moonrise.

The slightly wrong feeling didn’t wear off even as the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky. Thankfully, the smell of the fawn had subsided by now, but Arthur still felt too warm, the fabric of his tunic making his arms feel trapped. The string that tied the bottom of the clothing together abruptly scraped against his pale skin, and he felt its presence where he previously had not even sensed it. He had a chance of catching a cold, though, and so he kept it buttoned at his throat. He had to control whatever means he could, if it meant he could continue seeing Al-

“Arthur?” Before he realised it, Eduard was handing him his portion of the meat with his usual nod, standing a little closer than most Alphas, due to his weak vision up close. “Are you fine?”

“Yes, yes,” Arthur shook himself out of his own stupor. “Are the others fed yet? I thought that the meal had just begun.”

“You’re feeding all the elders now, right? Dietrich asked us to let you and Francis eat first, so you don’t have to wait, so…” Eduard paused, and he gave Arthur a strange look. 

“Is there something wrong?’

“No, it’s just…are you feeling alright? Your - forgive me, but your scent’s a little off.”

The Omega tried to not to furrow his brow too much, then he remembered the herbs, and explained as much to the Alpha. 

“Oh - fair enough, I see,” he said. “But yeah, you and Francis are allowed to eat earlier, because you have to give the elders their food.”

Arthur wasn’t one to complain, though he wasn’t very hungry that afternoon somehow. One thing he was, though, was thirsty, which was accentuated by the fact that for some reason, the meat felt much more gamey than it usually did, stringy and stiff. It was probably the winter, given the fact that there were no cooking herbs to spice up the food - there were only so many things Alphas could do to clean up a messy kill. The meal and the rest of the day passed in a blur, and the only thing that nagged at the back of the Omega’s mind was his strange thirst - but then again, he hadn’t been drinking much throughout the day, and his  nerves dried his mouth more and more as the sun dipped further and further behind the thick clouds of the season. 

At last, at last, after the evening meal had finished and Francis had given him a nod of approval, Arthur was off for the day. All thoughts of the Omega wincing as she swallowed the herbs and the flash of concern in Eduard’s face were gone as he pelted through the darkening forest, his bow thumping against his back and his heart pounding against his chest. He wanted to see Alfred - badly, more badly than usual. Was it because of their conversation last night, or the fact that he liked watching Alfred fast asleep in the early hours of the morning before he had to go back home?

He did his best to skid to a halt once he approached the pass up to Alfred’s cave. Arthur slung down his bow, holding it with one hand, before wincing at the faint scent of mint against his fingertips. Perhaps he’d wash it off in the river before he-

“Arthur?” his Alpha’s voice came over the ridge, sooner than usual, and all thought flew out of his head as he quickly ran up the slope, a fire in his throat. “Hey, Arthur, I thought I scented you!”

Arthur caught the glow of the moon against his honey blond hair, sucked in a breath. It felt as if there were a tangle of burrs in his chest, pulling him towards the Alpha more than usual.

“How are…” he suddenly sounded oddly breathless, “how are things? Well fed?”

“Yeah! Oh, uh, I’m still working on the deer,” Alfred stood up to greet him. Arthur noticed immediately that he wasn’t walking as slowly as he had the days before. “That guy was less gamey than I thought. We can go searching for breakfast tomorrow morning, if you’re fine with it.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Apologies for not checking in on you earlier; Francis needed me to replenish the herb stores before he let me go for the day. Have you been doing well?”

“No, you’re earlier than usual, right? Got another- got another set of stretches in, and I managed to make another water bowl, so we can both drink fresh water in the morning, instead of having to share,” Alfred waited until the Omega placed down his bow and pouch before leading him near the back of the cave.

Out of the corner of Arthur’s vision, he saw Alfred’s heaving chest. Was - was everything all right? It seemed abnormal.

“See? I felt bad for you not getting enough to drink in the morning before we had to start preparing to go outside, and now it’s getting cold, I thought it would help.”

“That’s very kind,” Arthur started to say, but paused. Water - come to think of it, he hadn’t drank since the afternoon meal. 

The fresh meat the Omega patrol from the afternoon had brought in, the deer with its bloodied flank, truly a messy kill thanks to one of the fledglings…the rank, metallic smell like the base of one of their rusted weapons-

By now, night had rapidly fallen on the forest, meaning that the Alpha had started work already on the torches, leaving Arthur to silently heave in the dark, the stars peeking through the folded lichen. 

The Omega didn’t sense his own scent spiking, souring like overripe sweet sedge in the summer, but Alfred did. 

Stones cackled a disordered song as he threw the unlit torch on top of the pile to rush to his side.

“Arthur? Arthur, what’s-”

“I’m - I’m all right.” He wasn’t; Arthur could hear the stream outside of Alfred’s cave, the usual chuntering turning into tiny pinpricks, hisses that pierced his skin. But what was it? Though this place was in his vision, he had never been in danger, not from Alfred, not from anyone. 

“Alfred?”

The Alpha nodded, the movement only visible by the tips of light on his blond hair, then rushed over to draw the lichen closed. It worked perfectly as a curtain, pushing out the light so it was barely discernible. There was only the torch drawing long shadows on the stone, extending its arm against the throat of the cave.

Arthur opened his mouth once more, but instead of the dry bitterness that usually came with fear, a sickly sweetness coated the inside of his tongue. His mouth had been dry with anticipation before, yes, but not like this. There could only be one place where all the liquid was going - at that thought, his tongue abruptly grew too large for his mouth.

Alfred was already moving to the entrance, his sword at his hip, but Arthur was stumbling, his back against the left wall. The left wall where Alfred had touched him, held him, almost kissed him time after time, the wall he stared at in the morning when they awoke together, felt Alfred's warm breath against his vulnerable neck.

You risk so much every time you come here.

The Alpha’s fingers travelling up his skin, his lips barely a hair’s breadth from his own, the raspy breathing every time they parted, the warm pulse of his body against his…

Arthur saw Alfred’s eyes dilate in the light.

“Arthur, are you okay? It’s…you came up here so quickly, faster than usual, and…”

He should have been more careful. In the herb den where he and Francis had worked all day, the scent would have been near impossible to detect - the aroma was potent enough that a fistful of crushed herbs and cold river water could disguise Alfred’s Alpha scent even as he had started to spend nights asleep with him now it was winter. Being surrounded with herbs, preparing them all day…

Arthur had even been near the very back of the herb store, clearing out old and dried portions of their stock, after he’d finished preparing the medicine. He’d wrapped seven bundles, all of them containing mint and the freshest herbs he could find. 

Things had been all right that morning - but he should have known that Omegas didn’t show all the signs right away. The heat flashes, the sensitivity to smells, the blistering anticipation to see Alfred so much so that he’d recklessly run through the forest, the discomfort…

Eduard’s concern, and everyone else’s lack thereof. Arthur had spent most of his day with Francis, at the elders’ or the nursery, or in the medicine den, where there were no patients. The afternoon meal had been the only one where he’d been in contact with unmated Alphas, as Francis brought the meals for them and the elders to eat, and the elders’ scent receptors had decayed with age. Francis was a Beta with similarly dulled receptors, and it was the first day, where the pheromones would be faint. Said pheromones would not be directed at him, anyway. Alfred’s shadowed figure at the unlit fireplace brought Arthur to another realisation - his body was catching up with his mind. He hadn’t had increased awareness of the other Alphas because his mind was already set.

Mint, the same herb used by Omegas to hide their milk and an unwanted heat, now seeped against his skin, the jagged leaves matching the goosebumps on his arms. He was still carrying the scent. 

Thankfully, Alfred was still at their makeshift entrance, not noticing Arthur’s now all too obvious revelation. The Omega’s fingers grabbed at his own clothing, wishing he had the smooth leather glove he used while hunting, anything to grab onto for purchase.

Alfred didn’t move, but the moonlight shivered along with his broad shoulders. Naturally, not being an Alpha himself, Arthur wasn’t sure what his first instincts were in this situation, but he wouldn’t expect a man of Alfred’s nature to retreat, away from the situation.

Then Alfred looked at him and it came flooding back. The snarling Alpha from the first day they had met had turned into the Alpha who pulled him close on their makeshift mattress, the person that walked in his dreams at night, the one who had stolen his heart, despite the fact that he was meant to be his enemy. 

An unmated Alpha, who had never felt this way for an unmated Omega, let alone an enemy.

Fear came ricocheting in Arthur’s windpipe, and for a moment, the Omega hoped it would cover the tell-tale scent. Even during the first time they had met, he hadn’t felt as fearful as this. If he could smell it, taste it in his throat, it meant that surely Alfred could as well.

Yet as Alfred slowly stepped forward towards him, Arthur didn’t push him away and flee back to the Sept, nor did he back off. He only stood there, his heart pounding in his ears and warmth pooling away from his head to between his legs.

“Alfred,” he barely managed to get out.

“We shouldn’t- you shouldn’t have come here tonight, Arthur,” the Alpha responded. His tone was low and gravelly, one that made everything worse, the hand that had enticed Arthur now his own undoing. “Did you know?”

“No,” Arthur’s answer was immediate. The leather soles of his sandals scraped against the damp stone of the cave. “No, no. I wouldn’t have put you in danger because of it.”

“I don’t think I’m the one in danger,” Alfred’s voice sent a throb of want down Arthur’s spine. “You need to get home. You need to. I can control myself, but…but…”

Arthur’s dilated green eyes dared him to voice it.

“But not for long.”

The Alpha’s voice shivered as he stepped closer to him.

Please.

“You’re in…you’re in heat, aren’t you?”

Chapter Text

The only other time a heat had inconvenienced Arthur had been his first one.

From experience, and his moons and moons of learning medicine, a young Omega’s first heat smelled like sour milk and misery. It was something that had evolved over the generations, meant to ward off Alphas given that they were still young, nothing like the various heat scents that developed over the course of an Omega’s life. Three moons between every heat meant that a lot could change from one heat to another. By the time of his first, Arthur had already lost his bearer to frostlung, and so he had spent the quarter moon curled up in the blessedly empty medicine den, Francis bringing in a rotation of full-fledged Omegas to help him along. 

It had been foreign, uncomfortable, but never like how he was right now, crouched against the cave wall. Arthur’s greatest worry during his first heat was that someone would laugh at him, tease him. What he’d gotten instead were sympathetic nods, a quiet question from one of his fellow fledglings delivering the food, asking through the tightly sealed curtain whether he was all right, older Omegas knowing exactly what was happening and what to do.

None of that was here now. Arthur only had Alfred, who was still watching him. He barely registered the sliding of the leather backing of the Alpha’s patchy sandals  on the surface of the rock as he nodded slowly. 

The Omega’s throat was tight, and his breathing wouldn’t stop growing heavier, as much as he wanted it to. His heart pounded where he was clutching his chest, his skin felt as hot as coals, and he could feel saliva coating the rim of his mouth, threatening to drip out. His nose was going haywire, and there were only a few things he could process now. It was as if the gods had blurred his vision and senses with a smudge of their palm; gone was the surfaces of the rock and the quiet bubble of the river - there was just the Alpha standing in front of him, his dilated blue eyes, Arthur’s own disjointed breathing-

It had never been like this. Never, never, not even once. Arthur looked up and everything was worse. He needed Alfred. All those seemingly uncouth, forbidden feelings, his own resistance, fell apart once he fixed on those eyes. They had been slipping away ever since the Clan Alpha had confessed, but now they slid freely down the slope that led to the cave, parting the way for Arthur’s freefall.

Touch me, Arthur gasped in his mind, and he was certain that he had said it in real life as well. Please touch me.

“Arthur, you have to-” Alfred swallowed audibly, even if the Omega couldn’t hear him, he could see the slow bob of his Adam’s apple, the one bead of sweat rolling down his neck. “You need to go. Now. I need to-”

“No, I can’t go - I just arrived-”

The Alpha’s fists bunched up, and before Arthur could react, he strode back over to Arthur’s side, grabbing his wrist with one of his hands. The Omega could see Alfred's fingers dig into his soft flesh, his fingerprints melding their skin. Their intimate contact, the sensation of Alfred’s large hand on his wrist in such a dominant action, had the Omega panting, the sparks from the wood lighting him on fire. 

“Shit, this is b-” Alfred bit off his word before he could even finish it; Arthur heard the recoil of his dry throat. “Arthur. You need to get to safety. You’re not- I thought you were on your first day? Of…of-”

“You - it’s you,” Arthur barely managed to get out. His limbs were starting to shiver with restraint; every scrap in his body demanded him to grab Alfred’s hand and make him keep going. “I’ve never- You know I’ve never wanted an Alpha like you. Never. The first time we’ve…and I’ve spent so much - oh gods, Alfred, I’ve spent so much time with you, and you know my feelings…I…I need to-”

“You need to go.”

“I need you.”

Cold stone, winds from the north, the peeled back petals of roses, the harshness of sweet smelling hay - Alfred’s pheromones stung in his nose now, and Arthur welcomed the pain. The Omega couldn’t tear his gaze from the Alpha, not when they were eye to eye like this. Alfred’s chest was heaving enough for Arthur to see it under his two thick layers, and his cheeks had turned rouge. Would he stop resisting? Would he take Arthur’s neck to his mouth?

“Not like this,” Alfred growled, and he abruptly turned away, fisting his hands in his hair. Arthur could see the tendons of his hand move along with the tense action. The loss of contact couldn’t keep the fact that he had pressed his fingers deeply against Arthur away from the Omega’s mind. The act of moving away made Arthur even more attuned to the Alpha, and he heard his harsh breathing mimicking Arthur's own, the shadows in the cave wisping as he paced around the cave. 

“I need- I need you to get away.” Alfred’s words were a harsh whisper, almost choked out. “For until your heat ends. I need you to be safe. I won’t hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.”

Show me the moment when your eyes dilate.

The Alpha opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Arthur saw his body stiffen, turning into a slab of wood in an instant. Whatever it was, he couldn’t quite understand - his heat-addled mind was focused on the dominating hand on his wrist that had returned, the unyielding grip, the possessiveness in those blue eyes-

“Get back,” the Alpha was saying, then he moved his arm under Arthur’s legs, using the other to lift the Omega as if he weighed nothing. Both points of contact had the Omega preening - now he had the opportunity, he was pressing his nose into the softness of Alfred’s neck. “I- fuck, Arthur. I need you to stay quiet, okay?”

“How can I - what’s happening?”

“There’s-” Alfred started to speak, but Arthur could tell he saw the sheen between his legs at the same time as he did. “Fuck. Fuck. You need to stay down.”

He laid Arthur on his sleeping nest as gently as he could, touches lingering on his thighs and back for a moment longer than was needed, and the Omega shivered at how tenderly he was being treated. He saw Alfred’s fingernails dig into him, pushing past the thin strip of fabric that separated them, the hypnotic contractions of his chest, the red in his cheeks contrasting with the almost fierce restraint in his eyes. The eroticism of the moment, mirroring how an Alpha would usually mate his Omega, was heightened by him reaching into his pack to pull out a weapon, slotting it in his belt, ready to protect. From the looks of things, it was one of the more medium-sized blades Arthur had managed to sneak in his pelt when he was visiting-

Somewhere in Arthur’s mind, one groggy thought latched onto another, and the clouds were forcibly yanked away.

“What’s wrong? Is this some sort of Clan ma-”

“There’s someone outside,” Alfred’s words came thick and fast. “I need you to stay down.”

All thought of how Arthur wanted the Alpha to move his legs and put mouth against skin faded away as his Omega system traded one base need for another. “How-”

To his dismay, Alfred was already moving away, his movements punctuated with an urgency that Arthur had been too addled to truly realise until now. 

“Stay inside until I tell you that it’s safe.”

Alfred’s tongue felt too large for his mouth as he steadied himself, standing right in front of the lichen curtain. The barrier let some of the cold wind into his nose, meaning that he could just about start to clear Arthur’s heat scent from his senses. Thank the gods his Omega was only on the first day, though it was already incredibly intense - if it had been the second or the third day, practically nothing short of a blade digging into his chest, the same thing that had brought him here, would have pulled him away.

Was he too paranoid? Maybe the intruder would go away, never to return, having possibly just gone for a walk - that wasn’t uncommon. But that was no Sept scent, which would be more innocuous, given the fact that this cave was closer to their territory, no contest.

It was the unrecognised Clan scent that frightened him the most. 

He’d decided not to carry the sword he’d brought with him in that fateful scuffle; something medium-sized would do the job better. The Alpha did his best to concentrate as he stepped outside of the cave, using the mechanism he’d prepared to string the curtain as tightly closed as possible to keep out Arthur’s scent and the faint light, ducking behind a set of stones clustered at the foot of the lily tree. Clear, damp, the lightness of windflowers, carrying a hint of the Alphas’ den in the Clan; there was no mistaking it for his own scent, a misunderstanding - he was approaching them, and there was no way to stop it.

Thank the gods Arthur was silent now, though even at the back of the cave, Alfred could still hear his soft, quiet moans, the shift of his body on fabric, the animalistic panting. Light reflecting from the night sky into the quiet river made him think of the sheen between Arthur’s legs and the clear, unfiltered desire in his eyes - desire that had never been fully released. The Alpha lifted his forearms to the line of sight brought by the moon and saw them trembling. If he defended Arthur - he needed to-

“Damn it, the leader’s bastard is almost certainly dead, anyway,” Alfred heard the Clan Alpha mutter under his breath. The sound was close, much closer than he had hoped - and the voice was terrifyingly familiar. “Why the hell would they send me on a night trip in the middle of winter to the outskirts of those Sept brutes, and behind the leader’s back?”

Behind the leader’s back? Alfred thought of his sire, how Arthur had said he’d been the only sad clanmate at the Gathering, other than the other person, who he was sure was Tino or Matthew. He felt his tense shoulders slacken slightly at that thought; his sire and presumably his bearer hadn’t turned against him just yet. He trusted Berwald, he trusted Tino, that they held affection for him no matter what. He’d understand if Matthew had to stay indifferent, having to still prove himself in the Clan, but not his parents. There were people to say goodbye to, a place to return to.

But would he want to, with his Omega needing him more than ever?

“Fucking…here, was it? That-”

Then the words stopped. The wind stopped. The moonlight faded from Alfred’s vision. However tightly he gripped his weapon and however safely he was hidden from view, his own safety mattered less to him than Arthur’s. He could probably best half the Alphas in his Clan with brute strength, but against any trained, full-fledged Alpha, he knew his technique was lacking. From the high-strung voice echoing in the hollow, however, he could tell this Alpha was probably newly full-fledged, from the group just before autumn-

“Who the hell?” 

Alfred’s eyes flicked from the base of his knife to the upper flowers of the lily tree. A shadow was growing longer and longer as it approached, the stones clattering away to reveal a young Alpha, like Alfred had just managed to scent under the influence of Arthur’s heat pheromones. There was no way he’d walk past it now. If he dared touch a single hair on his Omega’s head…

The moment before his Cclanmate could grab the lichen curtain and try to force it open, Alfred pushed himself to his feet, making his presence known before his Clanmate could touch the curtain.

“What do you want-” Recognition kicked in at the dark hair and fierce glare, and Alfred had to clear his throat. It was his voice. “What do you want, Moro?”

For a minute, the other Alpha stared at him as if he were looking at a ghost. 

It was as jarring as the speed in which he snapped right back into it.

“What are you doing out here, on the outskirts of the tribe's territory, away from camp?”

If the situation was less fraught, Alfred would have probably laughed. He could beat this guy in an arm wrestling contest, the same ones he had listened to and been left out of, but the other Alpha had a blade and Arthur was agonising in heat and needed to get home, so Alfred forced himself to put up with his stupid accusations. 

It wasn’t as if Alfred could just throw Moro to the side, either. Back when he’d still thought things would be better, that he’d have a chance to be recognised for his talents and not for his birth, Moro could have been his fledgling. Berwald had promised him that Moro would train under him, up until his seconds had overridden him, saying that Alfred was too immature, too juvenile, that they needed to be certain he’d be trusted. The objection of all three of them could not be ignored if Berwald were to keep his good regard in the tribe.

No fledgling meant that Alfred wasn’t trusted to help shape the clan, share his knowledge, guide them in the right direction. No fledgling meant that he couldn’t be eligible for leading the Clan. 

“Is that what the other Alphas from the patrol that day told you?”

“Worse,” Moro snarled, olive eyes flashing as he took a step towards him. Thankfully, it was him moving away from Arthur, so Alfred gritted his teeth and let it happen. “They told the entire camp how you betrayed us. Purposefully stepping up to volunteer for the duel when there was no way you’d defeat a single Sept brute, then running off like a coward when you’d lost!”

“A coward? You-” Alfred tried not stare too much in disbelief nor let himself succumb to anger, “you weren’t even there! How could you know?”

“Who am I more likely to trust? You let the others believe you were dead! Even our leader and Tino, who mourned you for days, how- how could you hurt him?”

Alfred had to ask. “How is he? How’s Tino?”

“That’s none of your business, traitor,” the other Alpha spat. Flecks of his spit started to gather at his lips, he was that furious. “Surely now Tino knows he made a mistake, trusting you. Not only do you cause so much trouble for our leader by being his bastard son, but you’re also someone who betrayed our Clan.”

Alfred took a deep breath, doing his best to repress his anger, but the humiliating morning, the jeers and the calls that had made him flee from the patrol, all came flooding back.

“How did you get wounded so easily? Aren’t you supposed to be a strong one?”

“How could you call yourself the son of the leader? You’re not fit enough to be!”

“Are you running? You’re clearly not going the way to our camp.”

“Are you fearful that our healer won’t treat you? Not in a rush, compared to the rest of us, when we tell the entire camp that you failed us.”

“What will we tell your sire, hm?”

“Will this finally be the thing that proves we’re right all along, that you’re a failure?”

“Do you think I did?” Alfred heard his voice come out steely and stiff, the alloys in the forge the night before the battle. He felt the sole of his shoe sink into the dry, sandy ground as he stepped towards his attacker. “Didn’t the other patrol tell you how they jeered at me when the Sept deputy fought me off? That I had to watch when the Sept carried off their fighter, when the Clan just started back home?”

Moro, finally looking somewhat apprehensive now Alfred wasn’t an easy target, took a step backwards. “What?”

“Did they tell you any of these things, when they sent you to kill me?”

“Kill-” he sounded taken aback “What? I didn’t say anything about-”

“Even if you don’t want to believe it, my sire would never want me killed. No one cares about me except the other Alphas, who’ve always hated me, not only for being a bastard, but for being strong. If I was dead,” Alfred took another step forward, his clanmate another back, and he continued to snarl, “who else would tell Berwald about everyone else’s lies?”

“You wouldn’t make it back, if you were so injured,” the other Alpha blustered. This encounter was clearly not what he had hoped would happen.

Alfred bared his teeth. A certain someone might have called him a savage for it, but that person was the only one he’d allow to. “Fucking try me.”

Alfred guessed that Moro had expected defeat, instead of probably having to slink away for his wounded pride, starting on his way back home. Alfred felt his own jaw set as he stared at Moro, frustration and disappointment and the struggle with understanding he’d never be appreciated by his Clan no matter what he did.

Then his clanmate looked up, steely gaze boring into his own.

“Do you know how our leader reacted, that night you didn’t come home?” 

Arthur clawed at the coarse outer pelt blanketing Alfred’s makeshift nest, feeling his self-control slowly slip away from the tips of his fingernails. He felt his hole clench in on itself, insides filled only with emptiness, contracting as it begged for the Alpha whose scent coated the fabric around him. From the top of his head where Alfred had kissed him to the shallow marks the Alpha's fingertips had left in his legs, all the way down to the tips of his toes, he felt the fire, the hunger and agony mixing into weakness. 

Time passed, that little was certain. Yet Arthur heard nothing except his own harsh breaths as his lungs fought to cut through the haze of arousal clouding his senses, the soft flickering of firelight on stone and the smell of Alfred’s warm bedding pushing through his own heat scent. Arthur faintly remembered the Alpha’s scent when they had first met and he had first treated him - hay that had stabbed with their sharp fronds, suffocating the Omega with the very tangible reminder that he was with the enemy. As they’d slowly warmed to each other, that line had blurred more and more, so much that in that moment, Alfred’s scent was something he craved, rather than something that pushed him away. 

Unable to resist, he opened his trembling mouth, wanting more, more, he was so desperate for more…

Turning his head, trying to burrow it deeper into where Alfred rested his head wasn’t enough. His bedding wasn’t enough. Arthur writhed, trying to control his breathing, trying to regain some of that damned control he craved, when his head turned towards the exit of the cave and a sharp, terrible tang made the back of his throat dry.

Every scrap of his Alpha’s emotions hit him full force, potent enough to pull Arthur out of his daze. Though they were not formally mated by way of carving each other into their flesh, the fury first then the anguish was enough to pull Arthur out of it. Desire turned to alertness, even more so when Arthur recalled Alfred telling him to stay inside the cave, and the lust to defend his Alpha grew even stronger when the shouts started to seep through the vines. The tips of his canine teeth snapped against each other as he used one hand to get up, another to reach for the knife he’d left on the floor.

“I think it was the same face he had when your bearer betrayed us all.” 

“Don’t give me that shit - you weren’t even born,” Alfred couldn’t hide his disgust. “They’ve just fed you what to say, right? What you’re supposed to say to me to get me down, to kill me once and for all.”

“I might not know that, but everyone else does!” his clanmate shouted. “You betrayed him, more than you betrayed anyone else.”

“I didn’t betray him. He’s the only reason I still do my best to prove loyalty to a Clan that doesn’t want me there.”

Moro’s hands balled into fists; it was probably the fact that Alfred could grapple him to the ground in a moment that explained why he wasn’t lunging at him. 

“My parents told me your bearer was one of the rising Omegas in the Clan. That he abandoned all the opportunities, all the chances the Clan gave him. You’re ruining all the second chances we gave you, just like he did!”

“Your fellow Alphas went home without me and left me to die! If-” he broke off. If he revealed that Arthur had treated him…

“If my wounds hadn’t gotten the best of me, I’d be dead.” Alfred muscled into Moro’s space, thrusting his face forward. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Everything you think is wrong with the Clan, conveniently gone in one fell swoop. Based on lies.”

Wind from the mountainous terrain they were standing in swept across his face as his clanmate abruptly pushed back. 

“Everyone saw how our leader - the one who’s supposed to guide us through everything - withdrew in his cave alone, not leading us in the first few days before winter. If our seconds hadn’t been there, we would have been completely screwed, and he knew it! All because you betrayed him!”

Alfred felt his muscles tense up, his body clenching, losing some of the control in the conversation.

“What?”

“...Berwald, we’ve done another sweep of the far banks. He’s not there. The elders are furious.”

Alfred remembered the cold sun and the deer antlers over the carved chairs in the leader’s den before he heard his sire’s voice.

“No. No, that cannot…” his sire’s gruff, unyielding voice, gave way as he spoke. “No. He wouldn’t have abandoned the Clan. I cannot-”

“Berwald, please sit down…”

“We went to the absolute corners of the territory, even up to the Cloudfalls. There’s no scent, no trace. From what little we could see, he must have made his way to the caves, at the far edge of the territories.”

“Do you think…he may have defected?”

“Tensions are so high right now, from the trespassing incident. He must know that if he stepped over the border, he’d be murdered.”

“He must not have wanted to be found,” Alfred remembered one of the seconds saying; they were one of Berwalds’s seconds to have died from frostlung before Alfred had grown up. “The pathway is filled with lakes, rivers, and such. He could have gone through.”

“It’s the winter, meaning that there’s less time for the scent to linger.”

Out of the corner of his fuzzy vision, he saw Berwald place his head in his hands. Like a fool, or perhaps just like a child, Alfred had done the same, meaning he’d barely seen what had gone on afterwards.

“How could he not…even tell us?”

“Perhaps it is a case of nursing sickness. Omegas can become very upset after giving birth.”

“No, no, he was happy after having Alfred, I thought, I was sure. He said afterwards that after the winter, we would become mates.”

“Berwald, can I ask…” the Clan healer ventured cautiously. “Did he ever say why he did not wish to be mated before he conceived Alfred?”

“I should not have made an exception. He said he was worried that since he was getting older, he might not have produced the strongest child for us. And I believed him.”

The healer’s voice was sour. “And then I found that herb next to his empty bed, with only your son in his crib.”

“How am I going to-” the one and only time he’d heard his sire’s voice break, Alfred remembered, “how am I going to tell Alfred?”

The strength that had propped up Alfred’s knees gave way, his heart clenched in on himself, and suddenly, he was that child in his sire’s den. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alfred heard himself say. It hollowed out in his ears, instead of rounding his frame with conviction like he had felt before. With every sharp inhale, he felt ice fill his throat. 

“I don’t know how the leader was before, but he shut himself away completely this time. The elders need him to be a strong leader, but more so the Alphas…if the seconds conspire to have Matthew take over…”

“You don’t- You’re just being told what to say by the-”

“But it’s true enough, isn’t it? Maybe it’s better if you stay gone forever,” Moro raised his hands as he spoke, in the same stance that reminded Alfred they had been trained in the same way, “to not ruin things again. You know, before I was assigned to another Alpha, the others teased me for having you as a mentor, for being weak to match a weak Alpha. That’s why they picked me to make sure you’d never come back, so I can prove myself.”

Alfred couldn’t help it. After everything he had been through, he’d hoped that there was still a chance he’d make it home. Even in those agonising hours of imminent death before Arthur had stumbled on him, he’d wished that he’d at least get to see his family again. Even now, when he couldn’t picture a life without the Sept Omega, he still wanted to at least say goodbye, take one good look at the Clan some part of him still tried to call home. 

No matter how deluded this Alpha was, no matter what lies he’d been given to feed to Alfred, that much was true. Moro’s words rang true in his ears - he wanted to be accepted, for something Alfred had no idea happened, either. 

The Clan was better off without him - his sire and surely his step-bearer and siblings had suffered, and he would never be more of a boon than a burden.

Something dull hit squarely in the middle of his chest, and Alfred barely recoiled. The dark canopy above the trees wavered, and even the lily tree glowered at him as he wrenched his gaze from the floor. The hit returned. He barely cast his eyes up to see his clanmate lay his fists on him, barely caught the hiss of pain falling from his own lips.

Moro was right.

There was no way he’d be able to go home like he’d hoped.

What had all those cycles of the moon led up to? Enduring the torment, pushing himself as hard as he c-

“Fight back, bastard, before I kill you,” Moro cried, pushing Alfred to the ground, far easier now that he’d destroyed any illusion of Alfred seeing his family again. The fist came crashing to his cheek, and Alfred barely had any time to dodge it. His dagger clattered uselessly as his clanmate reached for his own, grasping the handle firmly, his tribal beads clashing against each other as he swung his arms haphazardly at him. “Fight back, damn you! I won’t get any glory from my clanmates when I tell them you went down without a fight! I’m as good as any of them!”

Alfred tried to move his limbs, but they would not respond, laden down as they were with days of fighting until he couldn’t prove himself any longer; legs that had run so far for nothing, a heart that had beat for a tribe that had never wanted him, and now someone else who had been hurt because of him. How could he eagerly beat down a younger Alpha who wanted the same things he did? The pain was nothing compared to what he had suffered at the hands of the Sept deputy, but maybe it would have been better if the enemy had killed him after all. 

The anger, the unyielding defense, wouldn’t present itself in his throat. It wasn’t Alpha-like. But what good had being the strongest Alpha he could have been done for him?

His clanmate dislodged the weapon from his belt, his ceremonial beads shifting violently to the side as he did so. 

“If you won’t fight back, I won’t even give you a burial ceremony. After all,” his voice sharpened, as piercing as a needle, “bastards deserve nothing.”

Alfred heard something tearing. Was it Moro's blade finally ripping him open, exposing him to the cold that had almost killed him? Even now, the snow hadn’t reached up here, meaning there was nothing blanketing him for-

“Get your filthy hands off of him, Clan savage!” 

A shout fell not from Alfred’s lips, and as the Alpha blinked up at the empty sky, he saw a flash of green eyes, then the sound of two bodies careening together into the stone rang out against the hollow. Alfred’s gaze flew wildly to his own chest and saw no injury. 

“Who the hell are you?!” Moro sounded as shocked as Alfred felt, and in the moments before he pulled himself to his feet, he saw. 

Arthur’s chest was heaving as he withdrew the now stained red harvesting knife. His lithe body was smaller than both the Clan Alphas, that was for certain, yet there was a strength in how taut his knife hand was held, threatening his assailant. There was a fury in his eyes that Alfred was sure matched his own.

“It’s the - what in the name of the gods is a healer doing here?”

The Omega ignored Moro as he yanked his knife out of wherever he’d stabbed it into Alfred’s clanmate, flying over to Alfred’s side. Arthur’s gaze gave him the strength he needed to get back up, and it was only then did he remember everything else - his panting face, his flushed cheeks, his soft breathing. 

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Alfred gripped Arthur’s body as gently as he could, now shivering all over from the cold and the rush of adrenaline. He saw the veins in his hands and winced. “Get back inside-”

“He was going to kill you - did you think I’d let him do it?” Arthur shouted through the lichen, resisting fiercely as Alfred helped him back inside. “I don’t know what sort of poison that savage will feed you, but by the gods, I won’t let you tolerate it.”

“No, I didn’t, but-” Alfred grabbed one of Arthur's forearms and clasped it to his chest, desperately pressing the smaller man back into the cave. “You need to stay down. You’re vulnerable.”

“Like hell I will - he’s hurt you!”

“He’s in heat,” Moro’s voice came from behind the two of them, strangely detached. The Omega let out a hiss at Moro as he was let go, still clutching his knife, but Alfred felt as if he were moving through the molasses scattered all over the training grounds back home. He turned back to where his clanmate was. 

Blank, wide eyes, heaving chest, sweat beading from the top of his forehead; completely immobile. Moro's entire body was fixated on one thing. 

Alfred’s Alpha body knew exactly what it was. He’d been trying to fight Arthur’s heat scent the entire night, but now as it flowed through his nose, the world’s most powerful personal aphrodisiac, he knew there was no way he’d let a single hair on Arthur’s head be hurt.

He heard his clanmate move forward - one left, one right. It was as simple as that. Those teeth would sink into his Omega’s neck and never let go.

The last cue was Arthur’s breath hitching in terror, his hand hesitating on the hilt of his weapon, before Alfred snapped.

Alfred barely heard himself speak. 

“Arthur, don’t look.”

Two fingers extended past his line of sight, tendrils threatening to touch his Omega, touch what was his, but they would never go any farther than that. Alfred saw the other Alpha’s eyes narrow before he wrapped one of his arms around the other's neck, tightly gripping his elbow, the other on top of his head, in an instant. A surge of furor rushed into his arms, then it was as simple as splitting a log. 

One snap, then Arthur was safe. 

Moro sunk to the floor, unmoving. Alfred turned away, not wanting to watch the light drain out of his eyes.

One by one, the tribal beads slipped free of his snapped neck, rolling uselessly until they stopped on the rocks of the cave. 

When Arthur opened his eyes, he saw Alfred breathing heavily over the body of his clanmate, blue eyes laced with adrenaline as Alfred gathered him up with one arm. He wasn’t even sure if the Alpha was going to do anything until he laid down his clanmate’s body and pulled Arthur close.

“Did he hurt you?” Alfred’s voice came in a whisper that made Arthur weak all over again. The rush of adrenaline from protecting his Alpha subsided, pooling into his abdomen, as he let himself be cared for. “Did he touch you?"

“No, no, I’m - I’m fine,” Arthur could barely breathe, he wanted Alfred so badly and he was so close, and his mind was clouded by the events of the last few seconds. Alfred protecting him, going so far as to kill his own clanmate to make sure Arthur wasn’t harmed at all, turned even his blood into flames, stealing all the air in his body. “I’m yours. I’m safe. Why did you…”

Alfred growled, then he was on the Omega in a flash, his hands gripping his shoulders and pushing him against the wall. 

“You know why.” Arthur saw the strain of Alfred’s jaw locking, his rush of hot air, the way he pushed himself forwards. His large hands trembled against the Omega’s forearms, mirroring Arthur’s movements - yet his eyes did not meet his. “Moro was going to hurt you. I could forgive him hurting me, but you above all have to be kept safe. He was going to touch what is mine.”

Those words of claim were impossible to ignore, and he could feel his knees weakening in a way he had never felt before that moment. It was made even worse with Alfred’s scent whirling around him - it almost blotted out the overwhelming sweetness filling the cavern. Arthur tried to tilt his head to catch Alfred's eyes, but the Alpha avoided him once more, his cheeks reddening with shame as Arthur placed one hand on his forearm, wetting his lips, trying to tempt him back.

Alfred exhaled again before placing one hand on the back of Arthur’s head and pulling him against his chest, the other hand hesitating before trailing down his spine, resting against the point just above the fabric on his hips. The Omega felt his mind short circuit at the sheer intimacy of his skin pressed against Alfred's, the pounding vulnerability of the Alpha’s - the unmated Alpha’s - heartbeat. His lips were still wet when they made contact, soaking into Alfred’s warm skin, driving out all cold.

It took all of Arthur’s strength to hold onto his senses after those words; gone was the fear of their inter-tribe relationship being unearthed, the assailant, the rushing of the water outside, the whistle of the now fierce wind. There was only the cold press of the stone against his back, the slight rustle of the lichen, the thin fabric that strained against one side of Alfred’s pounding chest, pressed directly to his own bare skin. Alfred’s length was there now with Arthur’s, pressing insistently against his thigh, reminding him of his arousal in one more painful way. If the Omega reached out, he could have massaged away the tenseness in the Alpha’s shoulders.

It was, in some ways, a claim. Perhaps Alfred hadn’t been taught properly about it, given that he was young and mostly isolated from his Clan, or that their tribe’s customs were different from his Sept…

…or, perhaps, he knew. 

For a single weak moment, Arthur wondered if Alfred truly was laying a claim to him, after all these weeks of the Alpha depending so heavily on him, getting to know one another.

The Alpha’s body was so wonderfully warm, his heart thrumming to the same beat as Arthur’s own, his arms so encompassing, that the recollection of his heat came truly in haste. 

“Arthur, you’re still in heat,” Alfred managed to get out, not looking at the Omega. “You need to get home now.”

“But you’re here,” Arthur said. “I need to - I need to help you, with your clanmate-”

“I’ll take care of it,” Alfred said, his breath shuddering as he spoke. Just like that, Arthur knew he was in trouble; the time he had spent in Alfred’s arms, against his chest, felt like it had lasted only moments. “You need to go now.”

“Why should I go back to the Sept when the only person I want is you?”

“By the gods…”

Those words made Arthur realise how much Alfred was holding back. Naturally, his gaze was drawn to the Alpha's gritted teeth, a sight he had seen only when dosing and bandaging the worst of the wounds. If those trembling fists left the stone wall, Arthur wouldn’t have time to duck away from how he was being pinned between those arms now - as if he didn’t want it in the first place. Arthur closed his eyes, preparing to be kissed, his neck bared and bitten, his slick-stained clothing being torn off. He opened his mouth in anticipation, in want, in desperate desire that forced his mouth open, inhaling Alfred’s smell.

Arthur heard the shift of Alfred’s hands leaving their previous position, then felt one hand against the back of his neck, another hand cupping the underside of his arm, lifting his body effortlessly to his lips. Their erections rubbed up against one another as Alfred leaned in, his teeth grazing, grazing, grazing, Arthur’s mind short circuiting - he wanted this, he wanted this so badly, to have Alfred carve his claim into his neck, making him his-

“No. Not like this.” Then it was over as quickly as it started. The teeth that had teased against his vulnerable skin hesitated, and Alfred finished the encounter with a rushed kiss to Arthur’s neck before pushing himself away, the sounds of his harsh breaths filling out the cave. Arthur’s skin still burned with the simple touch of the Alpha’s hands; it was as if his fingerprints had seared into his skin. “Not while you’re in your heat, and I’m like this. For the gods’ sake - I’m sorry, Arthur.”

“Don’t be,” Arthur said before he could stop himself. He could acutely feel his own Adam’s apple throb. “Don’t. This is-”

“I know,” Alfred murmured, allowing his voice to soften. He swallowed audibly, the slowness of the motion in comparison to their fierce embraces making it feel as if he had stopped time. “Arthur, if you stay here, your heat scent is gonna stick worse and worse. I…I can’t control myself for any longer. After everything. Please, you gotta…you gotta go.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Arthur-”

Arthur barely hesitated as he reached out, fingertips tingling even before he touched Alfred’s bicep. There was a hunger that clung onto his own walls and forced them down, pulled him down to unguarded honesty.

“What if I…I wanted you to lose control with me?”

Alfred’s blue eyes widened, but Arthur could see. It was enough.

The Omega’s fingers pushed themselves into Alfred’s blond hair, and he didn’t fight his lust-wracked body. “Lose yourself to me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against the Alpha’s. His furrowed eyebrows and harsh breaths sent a surge of desire down Arthur's abdomen, and he pressed closer. “You killed him for me. You protected me, even against your clanmate. This is your reward, don’t you want it? Give up your self-control and have me instead.”

“No, Arthur.” The demanding command made the Omega pause. For most of their interactions, unwittingly or not, he had been the one in control, the one with more power, so having Alfred dominate him was something new - he wasn't sure how he felt about it. Alfred’s teeth were gritted, and he prised Arthur off of him once more. 

“I said, I don’t want to do it like this, whilst you’re in heat, whilst you don’t know what you’re saying. I want to honour your rituals, if you truly want me after tonight. You deserve better than this. Go now - there’s no telling what I’ll do to you, how many times I’m going to breed you, if you stay.” 

Alfred used one arm to wrap Arthur in his embrace, pushing aside the lichen curtain with his other hand. He paused for a moment before grabbing a fistful of the fabric of Arthur’s garb, pulling it down so it revealed the Omega’s pectoral, shining with sweat - then sucked a harsh, scarlet mark in the patch of skin near his heart, making the now-tormented Arthur cry out against the palms of his hand. The reddish skin wouldn’t show, but it was an invisible mark - if Arthur somehow lost his mind and forgot all about him, his body would remind him that he belonged to someone already. 

Alfred didn’t even wipe his lips as he withdrew back inside the cave. “I don’t want you to regret tonight the next time we see each other. Go.”

Arthur fought back an uncharacteristically miserable sob as his Alpha withdrew from view, blue eyes watching him in the dark, but one step in the stream was enough to at least somewhat jog him back to his senses. Despite everything, he still needed to endure at least this heat alone. 

Each step in the stream disrupted the reflected starlight as Arthur shakily made his way home, duty and agony forcing his steps.

Once Arthur was gone, Alfred forced himself to keep moving. Alfred was able to gain more control of himself, but not entirely - his hands gripped onto the wall behind them, and he was panting as if he’d ran the entire length of the territory. Hours of the agony the night brought washed over him before he found the strength to continue, found the willpower he needed to pull himself from the cave and Arthur’s intoxicating heat scent.

Filling his pack with the things he’d need, and some of the stones from a pile inside the cave, he pocketed the fallen tribal beads in one hand before picking up a torch - thankfully, they had stayed where they were - and the body of his dead clanmate in his other arm. 

Alfred set out on his final journey. He walked until the black had lightened to the deepest shade of blue, then found a copse adorned with the faintest covering of unfamiliar flowers.

Using the tools he’d brought, he first stuck the torch into the earth before digging. The sky had turned light blue by the time he’d finished, but it was deep enough, and far enough that no one would ever find it. At least the chills of winter had blown away his scent, so there would be no clues. For all the hardships of his isolation, at least it had afforded him this.

First, the dagger, pulled out of its hilt and placed between the hands, so Moro’s spirit would be ready to defend himself from anything that disturbed his final resting place. Next, his tribal beads, placed along his collarbones, so that he would always wear them, the Clan’s reminder of who his bearer and sire were, of where he came from. Finally, his olive eyes were closed, Alfred drawing a line from them to Moro’s nose and lips, ensuring all his senses would stay connected even when he passed on.

Once Moro was covered up, Alfred placed his hands together in prayer, one hand sliding against the other, and asked for his safe passage and forgiveness. No matter what he had done, and however much he had threatened Alfred's Omega, every tribe member still had the right of being buried as peacefully as they deserved. After all, had he not been cast out from the Clan, there could have been a time where they’d worked together side by side. 

As Alfred turned to leave, though, he couldn’t help but stand over Moro’s burial site one last time, watching. He thought of the other Alpha’s tribal beads, the bone white stripe that had been painted across the dark blue and the moss green - the blue must have been for the tribe, the green for his parents. Alfred couldn’t help but cradle his own in his own hand.

The tribal beads were made out of a fragile material, hardened clay - everyone knew in the Clan that another birth was imminent when a blacksmith Alpha brought out a pair of large tongs and disappeared into the forgery. For every string made for a new birth, there would be four - two in the middle, each one representing a parent, then two flanking the sides, shades of blue and black to represent the Clan. One bead would be given upon their growth from a fledgling to a full fledged, another if they were chosen as a partner by a direwolf, another for being a second, and finally one more if they ever ascended to leader. 

Alfred wore five, like everyone else, but if he could, he would change the second one - the one for his bearer, left without colour. Alfred’s bearer had left so quickly that he had not even had time to paint a design, which both bearer and sire were expected to do for their child. Even now he felt a pang when he saw Matthew’s purple bead on his chest, day after day, with Tino’s wonderful handiwork. Alfred would remove the bead if he could, but not only was it seen as bad luck, but it would make him stick out more, and it was insulting - though it wasn’t as if the Clan refrained from doing that.

At least Moro was being buried with both his bearer and sire to watch over him. Looking out into the wilderness past his grave, Alfred couldn’t help but wonder if his bearer was still out there. Surviving. Still alive. 

Or maybe asleep forever, like his former Clanmate was. 

As soon as Alfred returned to the cave, he could hear the blanketing silence the snow brought, the trees waving in the wind, as if they had not witnessed the events of the past few hours. Even the lichen curtain was an unmoving sentry, nothing indicating the heat scent that it still held within its walls.

Alfred limped into his shelter, lonely and wanting, and let himself be an Alpha once more. One touch where Arthur’s gentle, skilled hands had been drove him to madness. 

Everything was stained in his pheromones. Alfred’s hands held up a fistful of the furs he had been sleeping in, and pressed them tightly to his nose. The Alpha barely took a breath without the image of Arthur filling his mind, his mouth repeating his Omega’s name over and over until it lost all meaning. 

However many times he called the Omega’s name, called him to his side, imagined his soft moans underneath him, obsessively inhaled his scent, it wasn’t enough. It could never be enough.

The only thing that could satiate him was Arthur, and Arthur alone.

Chapter Text

Just before he tumbled into the Sept camp, legs trembling and chest heaving for air, Arthur saw daybreak.

The sun’s rays glared at the Omega through the isolated pool that served the medicine den, a sight that helped him slough off all his equipment and delve his hands into the pool. He had to push his freezing fingers against his face to make himself move. It helped him snap out of his daze, but only a little.

No. Not like this.

…I can’t control myself for any longer.

Go now - there’s no telling what I’ll do to you, how many times I’m going to breed you, if you stay.

I don’t want you to regret tonight the next time we see each other. Go.

Standing there with his head over the roughly carved basin without the Alpha, it was only then that Arthur realised how dangerous the situation had been, how desperately  Alfred had fought to be in control. It was the first time either of them had formed a romantic connection, let alone one as passionate and as forbidden as an inter-tribal romance, and they had both resisted. Admittedly, Alfred’s job was harder than Arthur’s, but the Omega knew he could have forced Alfred to mate him, lose any semblance of common sense, and destroy their relationship before they had even begun it. He would have lost those blue eyes forever.

Gods forgive me. 

Alfred, forgive me.

“What is with all this racket in the morning, Arth-” 

Abruptly, the partition that separated the healers’ sleeping quarters from the medicine den shifted aside to reveal Francis. He might have been there before, but Arthur’s mind was still yearning for his Alpha in a too-far cave, and it wasn’t as if he could have scented Francis, being a Beta. Arthur had no answer.

“What in the name of the gods are you doing out here? You’re in your heat!” Francis placed one firm hand on Arthur's shoulder and turned him to face him. Usually, Arthur would have shoved him off, but his senses were diluted and he just let it happen. “You know I don’t believe in babysitting you, but you should know better. Have you been - have you been outside ?”

Arthur winced. Francis’s sense of smell, though dulled, was far from useless. His best friend’s shrill voice caused him to stare down at his tattered tunic and pelt - he hadn’t even noticed the jagged fabric, probably from branches snagging on his sides as he made his desperate rush home. The Omega realised he had been straining his tongue tightly against his teeth; he felt the pain immediately set in as he released it to speak. 

“Only a little.”

“For the love of - get inside ,” Francis hissed, pushing him back into their sleeping quarters. “We’ll speak about this after your heat. Do you need any help?”

Arthur thought about asking one of the older Omegas for assistance, because he hadn’t had an image of an Alpha before in his mind, had nothing tantalising to fantasise about, but decided against it. He’d protected even his dreams; when he was in his most primal state, there would be even less guarantee that Alfred’s name wouldn’t fall from his lips. 

“Why didn’t you tell me this time? You always do,” Francis was already gathering up Arthur’s bedding with him; Omegas were moved to one of the dens farther from the entrance of the camp for their heats, whether they were alone or not.

“Forgot,” Arthur mumbled. Even the simple act of touching his comfortable bedding made him want to nest even more than he usually did. “I’ll…I’ll explain later.”

Francis shot him a quizzical, annoyed look, but said nothing else, keeping to his word. Thankfully, it was still early morning, so the camp was silent as the two of them made their way across the clearing to one of the emptier sleeping quarters.

“Get your things sorted, I’ll figure out food and water for you later,” Francis said as he tossed Arthur’s things on the stripped bed frame. Usually, that would be a duty reserved for an Omega’s family or their mate, but seeing as Arthur had neither, his best friend would do. 

“Sorry about all of this.”

“Well, that’s an improvement,” Francis muttered under his breath. “Never mind it for now. You’re not in danger, though you very well could have been. But you owe me an explanation after this.”

The Omega could only nod as Francis left him to finish nesting. There wasn’t much he could do after he’d completed his task.

He’d never experienced madness like this before. He’d never had a face to dream of, a body to lust over, a voice to beg for. Arthur did his absolute best to stay silent, something he’d never minded before because this was all natural and normal, but his desire wasn’t being vocalised for Alfred and it felt wrong .

Sun through the small slat on top of the door seemed as if it barely left until Arthur eventually fell asleep out of exhaustion from his multiple climaxes, all which sated him, but felt unbearably empty at the same time. Yes, he had the image of Alfred’s hand over his when he was stroking his erection, murmuring filthy words of promise in his ears, how he’d breed him until he was filled and how he’d satisfy every fantasy he had if Arthur would just say the word-

Arthur turned his head, muffling his screams into his threaded pillow, and then he could no longer keep his eyes open any longer.

Alfred walked in his dreams all four nights of his heat, and Arthur let him. 

“Just so you won’t forget me when you return back to your Sept,” Alfred growled, his teeth nipping along Arthur’s earlobe, drowning out the Omega’s cries, “I’ll knot you just like you want. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“I don’t just want your knot, I want you,” Arthur practically sobbed into the Alpha’s fingers as he bit down on them to muffle his cries, “I want…I want…”

Alfred laughed, the sound low and delicious as he left Arthur’s sensitive ear, suckling on the soft skin as he kissed his way down to Arthur’s Adam’s apple, fastening his teeth against the bulge. “Needy little thing.”

Arthur could feel his lungs fighting for air, see his own chest physically lift off his bed, hear his desperate wails echo against Alfred’s sparse breaths. Arthur wanted this, he wanted him , like he had never wanted anything before. 

“You’re about to cum,” Alfred’s voice had fallen to a dangerously soft murmur, and his teeth left Arthur’s throat, trailing a lovely set of tiny, taking bites. “Should I claim you, then?”

Before the Omega could answer, he felt Alfred’s teeth bite, then draw blood - the Alpha’s right hand stroked harshly down his abdomen, seizing his erection, gently touching the tip with his calloused thumb, then Arthur burned like he had never burnt before.

But the Omega let it. He let himself burn.

Because if not for Alfred, who would he burn for? 

Arthur’s absence was driving Alfred mad. Every moment of inaction that wasn’t hiding out to see if he could take down some prey, cooking food, or venturing as far as he could for scavenging until his state of undress was all too clear, was occupied by the thought of his Omega. He’d surely be well taken care of in his Sept, the Alpha wasn’t worried about that at all, but could he be going through his heat without any trouble? If Alfred was struggling, even without a rut spurred on by a mate’s heat bringing him to his knees, then surely Arthur would be grappling with his heat more than ever. He trusted his Omega when he’d said that he hadn’t felt this sort of attachment to another Alpha before, and now that he was in Arthur’s mind, having touched him, killed for him even, there was no way Alfred wouldn’t be affecting him. What if Arthur cried out for him and someone recognised his name, branded Arthur as a traitor, threw him out? Would he be tribeless like Alfred effectively was now?

If Alfred could safely get to him, make sure that he was protected… 

The Alpha knew there was no way he’d be good at infiltrating the camp to make sure Arthur was doing all right, but he would try for him. Perhaps even into his den, where he could provide some relief…

The memory of his teeth grazing Arthur’s soft, clammy neck made Alfred bury his face in his hands, still cold from the river water, making himself snap out of it. He heard his tribal beads clash against one another and latched onto the sound, forcing himself to lie down and fiddle with the painted beads. 

What was he thinking? In the place where Arthur made his bed, where surely he’d be the most deep into his heat cycle, what with it being the third day, the two of them would struggle to find any scrap of that self-control that had saved them that night. Even now, Alfred couldn’t find sleep without his Omega calling for him in the dark, stringing together incoherent fantasies where his Omega was everywhere. One afternoon separated a dream of Arthur speaking softly to him, then one where Arthur’s accidental touch against his erection had turned into a deliberate one, his skilled hands wrapping around the tip while he breathed wonderfully treacherous words into his ear…

Alfred looked down at his lap and realised that once more, for what felt like the dozenth time in these few days, he was hard. Great. The gods would cite this entire quarter moon as a reason to discipline him. As if what he did to Moro to protect Arthur wouldn’t be enough. 

But who needed the judgement of the gods, if he could have Arthur?

Still, thinking about Moro and his final resting place in the woods made Alfred realise something - his window of opportunity to say goodbye to his family was closing fast. Surely if he went back to the woods in time, spent a few hours in the Clan camp then left, they wouldn’t suspect him. Alfred could just say he hadn’t seen Moro. The risk was there, but it always would be - and the sooner he got to say his goodbyes, the better.

Alfred longed for the lazy, ordered days before that battle: stacking the hay bales for their cows and sheep, visiting Tino in the nursery, speaking with Matthew at the tribe’s meals, patrolling the territory one on one with his sire. Those were the hours he had lived for then; now all he could think about in the cave was the stolen time he’d spent with Arthur. 

Depending on how Arthur felt when he came back, they’d be able to share more time together, but for now, Alfred needed to say goodbye if he were to ever be able to share his plan with the Omega.

Polishing off the last of Arthur’s deer, he gathered the antlers and tucked them behind the rock formation under the weeping lily tree, folded his bedding into haphazard piles and placed them at the back of the cave, placed Arthur’s supplies next to them for easy access, and covered up the fireplace with more rocks, the sound of him moving things clattering against the solid surface of the cave. He hesitated before he took along his sword. He hadn’t killed Moro with it, so the weapon was not tainted - he’d return it to the Clan.

In and out, as fast as he could. Alfred moved outside, letting his head loll forward against the tendrils of the lichen curtain, taking in the lingering notes of Arthur’s pre-heat scent. He was leaving their sanctuary, at least for now.

The Alpha opened his mouth, then closed it. There was no need for goodbyes. He would be back, he would make sure of it.

Alfred adjusted the strap on his pouch and sealed the lichen curtain shut, then began making his way towards the Clan camp.

As promised, Francis approached him in his sleeping quarters the day his heat had ended. Usually, it wouldn’t be allowed, but given that his fellow healer was very much an unaffected Beta, he wasn’t challenged. 

“Arthur, you need to be honest with me,” Francis folded his arms as he spoke, reclining on the wood of the bed frame. “You need to be honest with me, now. This has gone on for too long. Sorting herbs incorrectly is minor, but I received a complaint from one of the Omegas you took a look at that you’d left an overly sweet mixture as a remedy. If that had been another herb, it could have caused a bad reaction. An overly sweet mixture? The gods are generous enough to give us a warning as harmless as that. Someone could have been hurt.”

Arthur avoided his friend’s steely gaze. He’d never felt the prickling of shame before like he was feeling now; not only because there was no way he’d have messed up this much, but Francis practically never scolded him like this.

“I - right. You could have been seriously hurt, rushing out into the forest like that, on your heat. Your cycle barely changes, doesn’t it? It lies in the same few moons every time. We’ve been training together since we were children, it’s not difficult for me to notice. There must have been a very good reason for you going out there, knowing how much danger you would put yourself in. Why?”

The Omega continued to look away. What- how would Francis react? There were so many things he had been keeping secret: the truth that the same man Toris was feeling immense guilt for supposedly killing was alive; that he was, in fact, very much in love with him; that his Alpha had killed another from his own tribe to protect him; and that had the two of them not exercised extreme self-restraint, he would have probably been bred and mated by that same night. 

“Look,” Francis sighed. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw his stance relax, the fabric of his sleeves slack. “I know you have a good reason for keeping your secrets. But I'm the best person to tell before something really happens, and you get into some real trouble.”

“Will you? Tell, I mean?”

“It depends on what the secret is, Arthur. I can’t make any promises, if your secret threatens our Sept. You know that.”

“I wouldn’t commit treason against our leader,” Arthur said. He had to take a deep breath to garner the courage to say the rest of the words. “But I need you to keep an open mind. Could you ask Dietrich for an hour, maybe two? Before the evening meal. We need to speak. Alone.”

Francis raised an elegant eyebrow, and he was silent for a few moments. For one of the few moments in his life, Arthur did not feel the urge to snap at him for taking too long, as it seemed Francis was actually doing some real thinking.

“...all right, then,” the Beta replied, after a pause. He used two of his fingers to scrape at a lock of his blond, shoulder-length hair. “We’ll look for some herbs while we’re at it. But I need you to promise to be honest.”

At Arthur’s nod, the healer motioned to him to follow him outside of the medicine den.

“We’ll just be gone for an hour or two. We’ll be around the territory, seeing if there’s any new plants we can pick up. It’s been four sunrises since Arthur’s heat began, so having the two of us would be most helpful.”

“No worries about that, Francis,” Dietrich said. As he was helping prepare the fire for the evening meal when he was approached by both the healers, Arthur had to awkwardly stand slightly off to the side to avoid bumping into everyone else. “Was there a reason you had to tell me?”

“Oh - no, none at all, just a precaution,” Francis said smoothly. “Since it’s both of us at once, we wanted to make sure we weren’t needed for meal preparations.”

“Not at all. Please make it to the evening meal on time, as we’re still serving you and the elders earlier.”

“Will do.” With that, Francis turned towards the entrance of the camp, Arthur following close by. They stopped by to pick up some additional furs and their weapons for the winter, Francis taking the dagger he kept handy and Arthur with his bow and sheath, slipping on his hunting glove for good measure. As night had fallen onto camp, one of the few sunsets that Arthur hadn’t been rushing through the forest to rendezvous with Alfred, the Omega couldn’t push away the all too familiar excitement rushing through his stomach - though it leaned much more into dread this time. How had it already been an entire quarter moon without his Alpha, and how had he managed to bear it?

They left the well-reinforced entrance and, blessedly, went the opposite direction from the cave. Arthur couldn’t help but glance at Francis’s expression a few times as they walked farther and farther away from camp, but the Beta’s face was carefully neutral, giving absolutely nothing away.

They didn’t stop until they’d reached one of the smaller pools within Sept territory; a commonplace spot for mentors to assess their fledglings in water-based combat. Naturally now it was winter, it would be too cold, and training was postponed til the spring, meaning that not even a straggling pair of septmates would be able to accidentally catch the conversation.

Francis sat on the ground, brushing away the dirt, and Arthur followed, placing down his bow and arrows. Neither of them spoke as the Omega rifled around his pouch for a firestarter and found a suitable bit of wood to light and bury in the soil.

Then the Beta sighed in his usual melodramatic fashion, pinching the bridge of his nose, the shadows of the torch playing against the back of his hand. It was impossible to tell by scent what he was thinking about. Though it went both ways, Arthur would have appreciated any sort of sign, even in the winter wind.

“Arthur. The cautiousness of your wording, as smart as you might think it is, does not work on an old friend. You may be perfectly loyal to Dietrich, yes, but you mentioned only his name, and not the whole of the Sept. Is there a reason for that?”

The Omega hesitated, then opened his mouth.

“Your full honesty. Or else.”

“Blast it all,” Arthur grumbled, but he knew he wasn’t in a position to get overly huffy with his closest friend. “I - all right. There’s - I don’t know if it’s treason, or not. What do you think is treason?”

“Something that threatens our Sept and our septmates.”

“Oh, I - well. In that case, I wouldn’t call it treason .”

Francis gave him a glance that Arthur could barely peruse the meaning of. “And yet, whatever you have done has given you enough pause for thought.”

“I…” Arthur began to say slowly, digging his fingernails into the hardened leather of his sheath, “in a way, yes, you could say I have betrayed our tribe. But not in a way that will harm our Sept.”

The other man studied his expression for another moment - then realisation blanketed his features. Arthur knew he had to say it first.

“Francis, you know the Alpha the Clan had spoken about in the Gathering? The one who’d supposedly died? I found him, abandoned, by his own-” the familiar hatred of Alfred’s clanmates surged back into Arthur’s throat, and he had to clear it to continue speaking. “His own tribemates, so to speak. He was in such a state that if I hadn’t stumbled upon him, he’d be dead.”

“The same one in the duel with Toris?”

“Yes, that one.” Arthur didn’t let himself waver, not now. “I nursed him back to health, and we formed an…a friendship. An attachment came afterwards. I - we did not realise that feelings had started to develop between us before it was too late.”

“Did you expect it?”

“No, not at all. When I found him there, close to death, I knew I had to do my duty as a healer, never mind the fact that he was an enemy. How would I know that in the end, it would lead to this?”

“I do imagine you saving his life, taking the time to treat his wounds and bring him back from the edge of death would put you two in a favourable condition,” Francis said, a tinge of dryness in his tone. “So in some way, I understand what you mean by betraying the Sept, but not in that sort of sense. Well, first and foremost: is he alive?”

Arthur could barely keep the indignation from his tone. “Of bloody course he is! There would be no way I’d let a patient die with my skills, let alone him.”

“What’s his name? It feels strange to just be referring to this Alpha as him .”

Arthur couldn’t help but hesitate at that. Giving up his name would be giving up their love to the world - or at least, someone else outside of their cave, the place that only had space for the two of them. But as he pictured the Alpha in his mind, his breathing in the cave, the tenderness in his blue eyes, he felt the corners of his mouth turn up.

“His name is Alfred,” Arthur said…and then he had to look away. As much as he was giving up their secret, the mere thought of him was enough to turn his solidly constructed senses to mush.

Francis snorted. “By the gods, you’re besotted. Wouldn’t have expected that from you - well, actually.” At Arthur’s look and accompanying loaded silence, the Beta continued, “You and I have always operated a little outside of tribal life, haven’t we? I wouldn’t have expected you to be so very in love . But having these feelings for someone outside of the Sept is not too surprising to me.”

Arthur couldn’t help but ask, scraping his fingernails deeper into the fabric around his left bicep, loosening his body’s tenseness even if it was for only a moment. “Aren’t you angry?”

“Do you expect me to be? I thought you knew me better than that. Weren’t we raised on the same stories, tragic tales of  Clan and Sept romances doomed to fail, to drive both people into misery? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. But I am disappointed you would not tell me.”

“Well, I’m telling you now,” Arthur said. “I - to be honest, I didn’t know we had formed an attachment until that night. Rather, I thought it would be possible for us to forget. I-” the sentences came slowly, and the Omega realised he hadn’t truly had time to sit down and figure out much, he’d just been content to be with Alfred for those few stolen hours, “I’d hoped it was, anyway.”

The winter wind blowing over the area they’d settled in covered Francis’s words, but Arthur could still hear him well enough. “Was there a reason for your persistence?”

“At the start, it was keeping him alive. It’s in our oath as healers to protect human lives, Clan or Sept or otherwise. But then afterwards…it was him. I kept on returning for him. I told myself that it was for the sake of a patient, but then he became…more than that.”

“I see. But other than the fact that he was the one that Toris defeated, is there anything else you’d be open to share about his character? It is strange - from the Gatherings, I have never heard of a Clan Alpha named Alfred, despite the fact that he must be full-fledged.”

“He’s Berwald’s illegitimate son. Cycles ago, his bearer ran away from the Clan - have you heard of it?”

Francis opened his mouth as if to say something, then paused, before turning forward to the flickering fire. A few more moments passed before he started to speak slowly.

“I’m not sure about everything - I’m only a few cycles older than you, after all, and this Alfred fellow must be three or four younger than you, at most, if what I remember is true, but I do remember…talk of such events, from when my mentor was still alive. I don’t remember talk of a leader’s son, nor a mate, though. That would have been big news, like if Dietrich chose to take a mate.”

“It would explain Berwald's bleak mood, wouldn’t it?”

“You could argue that - yes, it would,” Francis said. His hand went to his stubble, scratching at it. “So, assuming that he is truly Berwald’s illegitimate son, it would explain the coldness of the Clan towards him at the Gathering. Have you two discussed the future of your relationship, as that complicates it greatly?”

“I was hoping to do so after my heat had ended,” Arthur admitted. “That night made us both realise that neither of us could let the relationship go. Is it time for the evening meal yet?”

“No, we still have a while. Where is Alfred staying? Is he on the territory?”

The Omega shook his head, getting to his feet. Francis was right - having someone else to share the burden of the secret was best, especially if one of the hopes he had for his Alpha were to be realised. It had been almost a quarter moon since they’d been together, after all. 

“Arthur?”

“He’s on the outskirts of tribal territory, around a rocky pass,” Arthur said as he picked up the torch, rebuttoning the pouch button he’d been fiddling with. “I’m sure a patrol would have scented him by now if he was on the territory, and my first instinct would have been to chase him away. It’s not far from the eastern river, so we can get there and back before the evening meal.”

His fellow healer got to his feet, brushing off the dampness from the frost on the grass on his clothing. “What would you have me do now?”

“I’m taking you to see him,” the Omega replied curtly. “I haven’t - I’m not certain he’s been able to hunt fully on his own, and I’d like to check on him.”

“You ask an awful lot from me, as always,” Francis muttered under his breath, but he didn’t say no and he had a point, so Arthur let him grumble. 

By the time the two of them arrived at the slope leading up to the cave, Arthur had to pause. There was something strange about the setting - it was exactly like the night Arthur had found Alfred half frozen to death. No smoke, no fire, no scent of his Alpha. In fact, there seemed to be no traces of any human activity at all. 

Arthur couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach this time as he rearmed his bow. With only a glance in Francis’s direction, it was all the two men needed before they rushed up the slope. He turned his head, the bottom of his chin brushing against the white furs - the colour assigned to the healers - he was wearing. So soon after his heat, Arthur knew he should be more careful, but the only thing he could think of was his Alpha - what if something had happened to him? An animal ransacking his cave? His clanmates figuring out what had happened to the Clan member Alfred had killed to protect him? The other Clan Alphas, returning to finish the job? Succumbing to the cold?

“It’s clear this way,” Francis called. 

Still, Arthur didn’t put down his weapon. Perhaps the Clan Alphas had learned a thing or two about subtlety since two of their Alphas had failed to return. Arthur would usually have dismissed that idea completely from his mind, but given the fact that his heat had ended the sunrise prior, he wasn’t entirely certain.

With a nudge of Arthur’s head, he and Francis approached the lichen curtain together.

“Curtain’s wound shut,” Francis muttered. “You might want to take care of that first.”

“Move the torch a little closer.” Arthur hadn’t seen it sealed except the night of his heat, so he needed to see it clearer. The knot was very much Alpha-made, so after a minute or two, he managed to pull it loose. The Omega parted the curtain for Francis to thrust the torch inwards, revealing…

“There’s no one here,” Francis hissed. “There’s no shadows, no sounds, no sights. How come?”

“Gods,” Arthur said under his breath as the two men rushed in, the Omega releasing his bowstring immediately to search. The fireplace had been kicked over, the place where the collected food had been stored was empty, and the worst of all, Alfred’s bedding had been hastily put away. 

Arthur couldn’t help himself - he knelt against Alfred’s sleeping spot, gathered the pelt he’d lent his Alpha and held it to his nose. The scent was stale, meaning Alfred hadn’t been in here for days at the very least. And there were no signs of a struggle, no blood on the rocks, no sign of a hurried getaway. 

“I don’t understand,” Arthur’s voice was hoarse as he spoke, Francis finishing his sweep of the cave and coming to the back to stand with him. 

“I found a few beads at the back of the cave. The very very back. Do you want to come see?”

The Omega’s stomach dropped as he hurried over, gathering his furs tighter around his slender shoulders, scarcely hearing his own footsteps on the cold stone. Francis swerved the torch over, careful to not light his own white furs on fire.

Arthur could see the very back of the cave, an unfamiliar wall that reassured him that he and Alfred that he and Alfred hadn’t gone back there, and four, five beads. Two of which bore the colours of the Clan, which made his heart fall further into the cracks of the cave. Worse still, they had the etched star pattern that signified a full-fledged Alpha.

Then Francis moved the torch forward as he knelt down. The fourth bead bore an unfamiliar pattern, which loosened his tense shoulders, and the fifth was also unrecognisable. Arthur exhaled, rubbing at his nose with one rough swipe. He’d watched Alfred so many times, seen his beads, knew the patterns. 

“They’re not his,” Arthur breathed out, rocking back onto his haunches. “They’re not his.”

Francis frowned. “Then whose are they?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur said, gathering them up into the palm of his gloved hand, rolling them slightly against the leather. Somehow, it felt ominous to leave them here in the pitch dark. “It - it doesn’t matter, for now-”

Alfred’s clanmate. Arthur remembered faintly hearing Alfred collecting his beads. Terror surged in his stomach, feeling as if it were ripping against the delicate lining, but before Arthur surrendered to it, he forced himself to think. Now he thought about that fateful night, Alfred must have buried them with the other Alpha at his final resting place, not deposited them into the dark with no honour. So even if Alfred had been forced to cut another Clan Alpha down where he had stood, and they had been defeated, Alfred would have made sure the Alpha’s beads stayed with them even as they had passed on. And if Alfred had been overpowered, there was no reason for his murderer to leave their mark this way…

“He’s - did you see anything that suggested a violent attack? Anything suspicious?”

“No, nothing at all. It’s freezing here now we’ve let the wind in, if you ask me, but nothing. I’ll take a look outside.”

Arthur could only nod as Francis went back outside, clutching the pelt to his nose. The Beta had taken the torch with him, meaning that he was now left in darkness. Even now, in its diluted form, his Alpha’s scent was as intoxicating as ever. But what had happened? If they had fought him, surely there would have been a struggle, the lichen curtain left open…

As Arthur stood up to move again, his foot dislodged a stone from the ground, and with a small clink, another tiny bead tumbled out into the open. Following the receding light of Francis’s torch, Arthur held it up to the light. There were the familiar colours of Alfred’s sire - the Clan leader - but it wasn’t quite right. Compared to the design denoting Alfred’s status as his son…the pattern looked only half completed, entirely different.

What had happened?

“Alfred…” Arthur dared to whisper, wretched, in the dark. If the scent was stale where he slept, there would be no chance of finding a scent trail; Alfred wouldn’t have been in rut. But where else could he be but the Clan? The beads suggested that, at some point, a Clan member had been there that wasn’t Alfred or his assailant during the night of his heat. Had they taken him back in? Arthur couldn’t believe that it had been that simple - there was no way they would embrace him with open arms so easily, even if they didn’t figure out what had happened to the Clan member he had killed. Was he languishing in the camp while Arthur had endured his heat?

A shift of the lichen curtain, then Francis’s footsteps on the rock accompanied his shadow. 

“Area’s clear. No bodies, nothing, not even a mound in the dirt.”

Relief seeped into Arthur’s system. At least, no body meant two things: Alfred had not been buried where he’d been found, and his clanmate had indeed been taken care of as Alfred had said. He hastily deposited the beads next to Alfred’s bedding and moved back to stand with his friend, grip still tight on Alfred's pelt.

“The Clan had something to do with this. No one else would have a stake in Alfred’s disappearance, I’m sure of it. After all, if he showed up after they’d reported him dead in the Gathering, it would throw their whole narrative into question.”

“There’s not much we can do about that, if that’s the case. No one wants a fight now.”

“There must be something we can do.”

Francis could only shake his head. “Not now, Arthur. We need to go back for the evening meal, then think about this. This is serious - not just the fact that this Clan Alpha may be dead, but the fact that you’ve broken a Sept law. We have very limited choices based on that fact.”

“I can’t,” Arthur heard himself saying, knowing that the words were both foolish and futile. There was no way he could barge into the Clan camp, one day after his heat, and demand Alfred back, if he was there at all. Another day of rest, at least, was essential. 

“You’re not a foolish man,” Francis moved the torch closer to him, so that the Omega could see his best friend’s stern gaze. “Listen. I can come to understand everything else, but if you begin a suicide mission to retrieve him from somewhere he might not even be, I won’t be able to support you. We have to return before we’re missed.”

Clutching the remnant of Alfred he had left, Arthur hesitated. How could he not? Because he had to bear his heat in the Sept camp, Alfred could have been in great trouble. And there was no chance he’d have any support in the Clan, even with his family, given how determined his Clan were to drive him out. Alfred wasn’t even certain if his brother’s support was guaranteed, in order to protect his own prospects. 

“We’ll figure this out in the morning,” Francis said as Arthur reluctantly moved away, bending over to move the pelt underneath the rest of the Alpha’s bedding. “Come on.”

Yet Arthur couldn’t prise his fingers away from it, not that easily. They had nestled underneath it together for the first time, fallen asleep together underneath it, shared their body warmth underneath it. Arthur had helped keep Alfred alive with it, kept his heart beating. What if Alfred was already gone, to a place where the Sept Omega couldn’t reach him, couldn’t listen to his voice and his laughter, couldn’t touch him?

It felt as if Arthur was leaving behind a piece of himself, something as crucial as a limb - but he had to go. 

He was no use to Alfred like this. 

Grasping the pelt once more, he gently tucked it underneath, letting his touch linger for a moment too long before he forced himself to stand up and leave the cave, returning to the Sept once more.

Chapter Text

That night, Arthur’s dreams were as silent as the morning that greeted him. 

No sign, no guidance. 

Was this the gods’ way of condemning their relationship? But if that were true, then why did they choose the form of the Clan Alpha to deliver him the omen of winter? Why did they not cast lightning on the night of their meeting, not pull Alfred away from the duel, stopped their hands from stirring the feelings in his chest? 

The answer was simple - the gods did not meddle. Whatever happened to the tribes happened to the tribes. Arthur had thought it was a good thing, up until this very moment, because at least a dream could lead him to Alfred, lead him to know whether he was alive or not, anything that could possibly help-

“Arthur, is everything all right?” 

Those words jerked the healer back to real life, standing in the middle of the infirmary with his hands occupied, holding the gauze he had been meaning to wrap around his patient’s arm. The medicine he’d applied made the wound look more stark than it truly was; from what the Omega had told him, she’d been nicked with a tree branch on her way down.

“I - yes, quite well, thank you,” he supplemented his words with his usual nod. Francis was the one who graced  their patients with overly sweet smiles, anyway. 

“Is the winter hard on you and Francis? This morning the two of you seemed troubled.”

“It’s…don’t worry about it. The usual worries about the frost getting into some bundles, that sort of thing. The first half moon is always a little scary.”

She made a humming noise of what Arthur guessed was sympathy. “Huh, that sounds pretty scary. Don’t let it get you down, though. Maybe you should go hunting with us sometime? We know you like to work by yourself, but eh. We’ve not asked you in awhile.”

Arthur tried to not let his suturing finger stutter. It had been awhile - in fact, the last time they’d asked had been the end of his supplementary hunting training, which he’d politely explained that he hadn’t learned to hunt in a patrol, and would be more of a burden than not. But even still, he’d always gotten along with his fellow Omegas, and they’d always respected the fact that he preferred to hunt alone.

Embarrassingly enough, his fellow Omega noticed it. “Winter’s not-” she winced as Arthur dabbed away the ointment he’d applied to her injury, “winter’s not going anywhere for a few moons, isn’t it? And with the rumours that one of the Omegas will give birth to a Beta soon, maybe you’d want to take a break from the medicine den more and more, yeah?”

“Bite down on the towel, it’ll be easier,” Arthur motioned for her to open her mouth before gently placing the towel, letting her bite at it once or twice before continuing. “...well, you’re right, but possibly a little later? If nothing goes wrong with our herb storage before the end of this moon.”

Arthur tried to keep his thoughts quiet, especially as he began to sew up the Omega’s wound. Other than the occasional yelp of pain, there was nothing amiss, standard procedure. 

Before meeting Alfred, Arthur might have accepted. For the lack of a better word, as thankful as he was that he got to work with who he felt closest to, there was still an entire world outside the medicine den. That was partly one of the reasons why he’d petitioned Dietrich to still allow him to train as an Omega as well, after the bulk of his healer training had been completed. The hunger to learn more about what Francis and his mentor did had driven him out of the usual system of the Sept, and given that Francis’s mentor had passed away ten cycles ago and there had not been a Beta birth since then, it had been the correct call - but Arthur had always thirsted for more knowledge, so training with the other Sept Omegas would be a valuable experience. Due to his solitary nature, he’d not had much time to discuss hunting forms and strategies with the other Omegas. 

Yet now, his thoughts expanded further, past even their borders - squarely on Alfred’s plight. Even if his own, self-indulgent plan worked and they were able to retrieve him…what then? Surely the Sept would turn against him, and see him turned traitor.

Would you still see me favourably then? 

Would you still see me at all?

Following Francis’s orders had never been as unbearable as it had that entire afternoon. Francis had cautioned Arthur that they’d already made a notable request to Dietrich - for the sake of not bringing unwanted attention, they would have to leave camp after the evening meal at the earliest.

All day, Arthur played his role of the infallible healer. He sequestered himself in the medicine den, checking every single crevice and crack to ensure they were well-reinforced so their herb store wouldn’t spoil and dusted around the table where they kept their patients. Anything to keep his mind off the cold blankets and the emptiness in the cave. He lined up with Francis and made his usual amount of talk at the eating grounds when they went to get the meals for themselves and the elders - not too little that he’d seem withdrawn, but not too much that he’d seem too high-strung. Francis nudging him with his foot helped, but did nothing for his appetite.

The evening meal would have made a less controlled Arthur sick to his stomach. The food, though the Alphas did their job excellently as usual, tasted like the herb dust that he’d been waving away from the entrance to the medicine den for a decent amount of the afternoon. Thankfully, since the cold had started, they were allowed to stay in the elders’ den for the entire meal, meaning less people had to see him than usual. Francis was the more chatty one between the two of them, leaving Arthur to cough down his meal and nod once in awhile in between talk of how loud the Alphas were when they were going around inspecting dens, and how the elders had already turned away one group for wanting to check their shelter during the hours they chose to nap during the day. 

The sun refused to go down, buffeted by the thick clouds of the winter. Arthur stacked up their bowls, organised their cutlery, and made sure they were clean after their meal. That was the extent of their care; both Alpha and Omega fledglings did the majority of the rest. Steadying his grip on the large tray, Arthur was the one to give it to the Alphas who were in charge of cleaning up that night while Francis made complimentary talk about the meal, how the elders enjoyed it, things he couldn’t pay attention to. The winds had changed within the camp and he could feel nighttime getting ready to converge on the sky.

At last, at long last, the two of them were bidding farewell and the camp was heading off - once the evening meal was over, due to the cold, everyone was essentially relieved of their duties for the day. Arthur watched Dietrich return to his den, then as soon as the leader was gone, he-

“Calm down. If you turn on your heel so quickly, you may lead the others to suspect there will be trouble,” Francis said. Arthur turned around to see he’d already prepared to go out of the camp, Arthur’s extra coat, bow and sheath on his left arm. Still, judging by how his face tensed as he surveyed the emptying camp, the Beta was actually feeling serious about tonight. He made a gesture with his right arm, showing the belt of supplies he’d brought. The colour of the wraps were the same as the ones he’d asked Arthur to sort today. No doubt his fellow healer would have plenty of room to tease him after this entire incident was over, if he could retain a more cheerful mood. “Catch.”

Francis was a terrible thrower, so he had the sense to only lightly toss the coat, taking one step forward to shorten their distance. Arthur barely managed to catch onto it, grabbing a handful of fur. Slipping it half on, Arthur muttered a ‘thanks’ before adjusting his weapon. He reached into the coat to wear his sheath, and his fingers grazed onto a knife, probably one he’d meant to give Alfred before his heat. He hesitated, then left it there. Before the night was done, he and Francis might have to fight their way out.

Once they were clear of the treeline that guarded the entrance to the Sept’s camp, Francis began to speak.

“So, what’s your plan, young master?” 

“I…I don’t know, actually,” Arthur confessed, biting back a barb. The forest was still lit by the sky somewhat, and they’d opted to not light a torch until they could barely see their hands in front of their faces. “I’m not senseless enough to go charging into Clan territory, but I can’t imagine another place he would have gone.”

“In that case, I’m assuming he can fight off a bear.”

“He’d do fine.” Arthur thought about mentioning the weapons he’d left for Alfred, but that probably wasn’t a good idea. Less incriminating information, the more likely Francis was willing to help. “Not as if bears would be so foolish to enter the cave, and they’d leave their stench everywhere, anyway.”

“I wouldn’t know,” the Beta replied as they crested over the hill, giving them a view of the territory around them. They’d only need to take a right turn, the same fateful turn Arthur had taken that day he’d met Alfred in the cave. “But I think it’s…it’s - wait. Is there someone down there?”

Arthur yanked his gaze in the direction of the cave to look at where Francis was pointing, and sure enough - at the shallow river that separated Clan and Sept territory, a young man was wandering the banks, a large, white-furred creature standing next to him. It wasn’t possible to see from their initial angle, but when Francis and Arthur moved closer, they could see a twitch of small, scalloped ears. 

“What is that?”

“Looks like a bear, but it’s probably a direwolf. Would have fooled me if not for that coat,” Francis muttered underneath his breath. “Can we get closer? Put away your bow and arrow, we’re sticking to the truce until someone from the Clan breaks it.”

The two of them waited until the young man walked away slightly to move behind the trees, Arthur steadying his bow so it wouldn’t clank against his sheath. Opening his mouth, he scented the air - typical wet direwolf scent.

“Direwolf,” Arthur started to say, but paused as the young man came closer. “He’s - this way-”

“Kuma, what is it?” 

Arthur turned his head slightly to look, then had his heart snatched from right under his ribcage. 

There was a softness to the young man’s features, yes, and the faint wind carried the scent of an Omega, but from his first glance, that was all that separated him from Alfred. As Arthur dared to take a longer glance, he saw eyes the colour of tiny violets, and where Alfred’s fringe fell into his eyes, the person's pale blond hair curled around his forehead instead. Even the way he spoke was all too familiar to him. Out of the corner of his gaze, Arthur could see a strand of hair bounce similarly to Alfred’s as he spoke to his direwolf.

What about your brother? Half-brother.

We get along, and that’s as much as I could hope for, really. He’s got a good future in the Clan, there’s rumours my sire will make him one of his seconds when he’s older, and he’s super well-liked. For that reason, I…uh, I don’t want to interact with him too much.

I don’t want my brother to have to publicly turn against me.

“Is there anything in the area? I’m certain I asked you to look over there, but-”

“It’s his brother, Matthew,” Arthur hissed as quietly as he could to Francis. “I don’t think he’s a threat.”

“Matthew’s his brother?” Francis’s reply was full of disbelief as he rubbed the side of his nose, pushing his head back against the trunk of the tree once more.

“Half…brother. He looks very much like him.”

“And the leader of the Clan, no doubt about it,” Francis muttered. “The whole bastard thing. Well, we should greet him before he finds us.”

Twisting away from the tree trunk, Arthur held his hands out, palms facing outwards in one of the universal placating gestures. The Clan Omega jumped a little as he noticed Arthur and Francis, but once the dusk illuminated their faces, he visibly relaxed, watching wordlessly as the two of them approached him and his direwolf. Even his moderate resemblance to Alfred made Arthur’s heart hurt.

“Hello,” Matthew started off, which Arthur appreciated, as he was unsure of whether or not something had stuck in his throat, he simply could not speak. “There’s lots I want to talk about, but I have to ask first - are you two alone?”

“Yes, we’ve - we’ve come alone,” Arthur said. He wasn’t sure how to approach the other Omega - after all, Alfred had talked about how he’d not interacted with him much, wanting to save him the trouble of dealing with him. Would he be cold, giving Arthur a warning and little else, or something else entirely? 

“We don’t intend to break the wintertime truce,” Francis added. “I believe that Arthur has been looking for information based on…”

“Truce? Then it was…” Matthew fell silent. “Then it must not have been a member of the Sept.”

“Pardon?”

Matthew cleared his throat. His direwolf nudged at his hand with his muzzle, beady dark eyes staring up at Arthur and Francis, but did not advance. “I - nothing. I know that you’re here for Alfred - erm, I mean,” he tilted his head slightly in Arthur’s direction, “he is. I’m assuming you’re helping him out, as a fellow healer?”

“Sort of.”

“How did you know that-”

“He told me to look for the Sept healer with the…the beautiful green eyes,” Matthew’s words slowed when it came to the description, and by the way he was adjusting his numerous tribal beads, one more than Alfred had worn, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about communicating his message.

His message…then it meant that-

Arthur couldn’t help his outburst. “Is Alfred - is he okay? Is he alive?” 

“Arthur,” Francis’s voice held a warning.

“He’s alive, yes. Within the Clan.”

Before Arthur had the time to press for why exactly Matthew had used the word alive, the Clan Omega pressed on. Arthur was certain all of them were feeling the chill of the coming night; he could smell the apprehension in the other Omega’s scent.

“But he doesn’t have much time left. I was hoping - Kuma and I were walking around the territory, a little after dusk. We were expecting a Sept patrol.”

“I couldn’t wait around in camp, not when I knew Alfred would be in trouble,” Arthur couldn’t stop himself from confessing the truth. “Matthew - is he-”

“We don’t have much time, but I need to get him out of the Clan. Tonight. I’m not sure how much more he can take.”

Arthur stared at him.

The hint of desperation in Matthew’s voice spiked in a lone word. 

“...Please.”

Arthur could barely hear Francis’s question, the tone of his voice rising as he demanded to know what was going on. Alfred had been heavily injured from the day they’d met, then barely a half moon earlier, had almost frozen to death, and it had been a quarter moon since they’d last seen each other. How long had - because of him, how long had Alfred suffered?

“We might - tonight is a big ask, erm, Matthew-”

“I’ll go to him,” Arthur heard himself say. He blinked a few times to pull his attention back to the earth underneath him and the fog of his breath, then spoke again, “I’ll go to him. Tonight.”

“Arthur-”

“I can’t leave him there, Francis,” Arthur immediately turned around to speak to his fellow healer. “I can’t. What kind of person would I be if I left him-”

“Give us a moment, will you?” Francis said to Matthew, then turned back to Arthur. 

“Listen for a moment. I’m all for you diving into Clan territory to save your Alfred, but what happens next? If Dietrich won’t take in a new stray, which I’d understand in the middle of winter, not to mention he was actively fighting against us in the last battle we had with the Clan, where would you two go? That’s assuming you don’t get butchered by the Clan sa-” he caught himself at Matthew’s narrowed gaze, “Clan…members.”

“I’ll help as much as I can,” Matthew offered as soon as Francis had said the last sentence. “Kuma and I will help with fleeing the territory quickly. My position in the Clan helps it.”

Francis narrowed his eyes. “That’s all and well, but we’re concerned about what happens after Arthur flees Clan territory hopefully with your brother, hopefully both alive.”

“Could you - Francis, could you return to the camp without us? Leave the supplies with us, then I’ll take them to the cave. You’re right, Dietrich won’t like this news being sprung on him tonight. Perhaps by morning.”

“You’re taking him into our territory?” 

“No - no. Not without Dietrich’s knowledge.” Arthur hesitated. If this plan had any chance of working, he could not undermine his leader’s authority. “Back to the cave, we’ll stay there for the night. Then in the morning, I’ll ask him if Alfred can stay.”

Francis’s question did nothing to quell the pounding of Arthur’s heart in his chest. “And what if he says no? Tells you that he won’t take Alfred in?”

Arthur steeled his jaw. “Then I'll become tribeless.”

Night had fallen on the Clan camp for one more day, and that was all Alfred could make out from his cage. 

The rest came as he tried to shake the exhaustion from his bones and failed; tried to scent the air, but nothing but metal and stench filled his senses. He could hear some barking, but that was all. The rest of the Clan had probably eaten by now, gone to rest for the night. They’d chucked him some leftovers from the afternoon meal before he’d collapsed into sleep and that was all he was getting that night. 

When was the last time he had seen anyone? He didn’t know. He hadn’t been allowed to for days now. He knew Tino had tried to see him - almost clobbered one of the guards, from what Matthew had told him when he’d slipped him extra food between the bars during his shift, but that was a few days ago. 

The Alpha also knew that his sire hadn’t come, but he could understand why - not wanting to see how his son was suffering, creating an illusion of not caring. Alfred was sure that if Berwald visited, the Clan would want to see some form of personal torture from his hands. But what else could his sire do to tear him further apart, physically? 

Alfred felt the familiar prickling in his throat and coughed against his direwolf muzzle, his hand instinctively coming up to cover his mouth, only to knock against the harsh metal. His bruised, bloody knuckles had already broken the barrier of skin, and it made the touch even more sensitive, leaving Alfred’s lungs fighting for air to both express pain and get out the lump from his throat. The cloth clamping around his teeth made it almost impossible to speak normally, and even his formidable back muscles flexing from the strain changed nothing.

What could be worse than this? He felt as if he was only another dangerous night away from freezing to death, but unlike this time, there was no Arthur to save him. It was only the first half moon of winter, meaning that it would surely get colder, and the only people he knew cared wouldn’t be able to get to him any longer, with the exception of Matthew, who couldn’t get him an extra layer without getting caught. And if Matthew was caught and shunned, their sire wouldn’t have an heir…

Alfred couldn’t blame his brother’s loyalty to their Clan, the same way he couldn’t blame Berwald’s absence, or Tino being forced away. There was a reason, and to not destroy the stability of the Clan was something Alfred couldn’t fault them for. At least, in their hatred for him, they could find some sort of unity. That was the sort of thing he needed to think of to stay alive.

There was no way he was getting out of this, after all. The moment he’d returned to the Clan camp, he’d been pinned down and hauled in front of his leader, his sire, who had no time to even greet him or embrace him or even process the idea that he was alive, but Alfred had seen it in his cornflower eyes, the colour they shared. Arthur’s friend had been right - his sire had mourned him. In the following days of pain he’d endured, he’d kept that gaze in his mind, made it his strength. 

That in some way, at least, he was cared for by someone in the Clan.

From there, things had progressed lightning fast. The topic of Moro was brought up immediately, and Alfred had done his best to persuade them that he had no idea what had happened. Usually, he’d think himself a bad liar, or something else that was his fault, but they’d not given him any space to even speak for himself, because, because…

Alfred had been careless. He’d been stupid, because there was no way he’d be able to change, after all. He’d forgotten how well protected Arthur had been from detection, how carefully the Omega had applied pungent herbs to his own skin after their every meeting, and walked in the cold river every time he went back home for as long as he could to ward off the Alpha’s scent. Arthur had been in the first day of his heat, for the gods’s sake. Alfred should have known that his smell, especially as intoxicating as it was to him, would cling like burrs. To avoid freezing his toes off, or catching an infection, he didn’t even wade into the river crossing the border from Sept to Clan territory. He couldn’t smell it until someone had pointed it out, but it made sense - he’d not left the cave ever since the duel that had started it all, not long enough to count. He wouldn’t have smelled Arthur on himself, given the fact that he’d been scenting him for moons. 

The only silver lining in all of this was that, in his Clan’s furor, they’d been unable to identify Arthur specifically - Sept and Omega was all they needed. Alfred wasn’t sure if that was even possible, but as Arthur had attended Gatherings before and was a noted healer, the risk was there. The fact that Arthur’s name had not come up after almost a quarter moon of imprisonment was one of the few joys Alfred had in the entire situation.

After that…the Alpha didn’t remember much from how he’d gotten to the camp clearing to one of the direwolf cages, or maybe he didn’t want to. He remembered there had been a bout of fighting. He remembered the end of a lance being taken to his tribal beads, almost snapping his necklace. In his nightmares, he'd watched them scatter against the short grass of the plains. He remembered knocking out two, maybe three, before everything went black. He’d probably dreamed then, hearing Arthur’s voice.

You wouldn’t hurt me. As confusing - as ridiculous as that sounds, knowing how we met and what we are, I know you wouldn’t.

For those moments in the cave, he had been loved. Wanted. Maybe it made sense for his mind to escape there.

Alfred awoke to leather chains around his ankles, the stench of the direwolf kennels, and worst of all, the damned muzzle. The straps went behind his already dirty hair, matted from sweat and blood, tied so deep into his face he swore if he wasn’t able to slip his fingers underneath from time to time to relieve the pressure, they’d leave permanent scars. It restricted his mouth and nose from where they dragged on his skin starting right underneath his eyes and snapped at his chin, meaning that every time he breathed out the billows of smoke that winter brought, they would wetten the harsh metal underneath, not to mention the meagre amounts of water he was given out during the day. He could only snap at the food from the holes left in the cage, and it made him feel like an animal. If the Alpha didn’t know it would reflect poorly on his sire, Tino and Matthew, then he might have behaved like one to the next sneering Alpha that came to give him the scraps they called meals.

Out of the blue, the faraway rustling of the bushes that flanked the Clan camp made Alfred sit up a little straighter, fiddle more restlessly at his restraints. Since the Clan camp was built at the foot of the mountain, there was little in terms of protection from the elements, and Alfred faintly remembered a story Berwald had told him about digging up the bushes near the Sept territory when he was younger, and getting into a fight over it. The Alpha had laughed at the story and smiled while thinking about it before, he remembered that - but now the corners of his mouth were too tired and restrained by the muzzle that he couldn’t. Thank the gods it was not his hands that were chained, as during the chaining process, his sire had argued he needed at least his hands to stay alive. 

Unmoving in the hay, Alfred only made his body move to stimuli if he cared enough; the footsteps of another Alpha coming in to dump rations into his bowl, his jaw always clenched into a snarl in preparation. The wind whisking across his bars, he knew to retreat as far as his leg straps allowed him, hiding behind the small alcove of the direwolf kennel. Yet this sound was different, more persistent - it didn’t stop even as Alfred felt the seconds pass in that damned cage. 

After the fifth shift or so of the bushes, Alfred couldn’t take it any longer. Moving his cramped legs and pushing himself to his feet, he pushed himself as far as his leg restraints would let him, then craned his head against the bars of the cage as much as he could. The muzzle prevented him from directly pressing his face against the surface, and if he smashed it against the metal, he knew it would hurt from experience, so the line of his sight was limited to only a few bushes, the dry, packed dirt, and footprints from Omegas who had been this way and their accompanying direwolves. Thankfully, they were quieter now it was night.

Then Alfred saw a pair of ears pop up behind a bush and felt his stomach sink. It was just another Omega, returning from a probable hunting trip, leaving their direwolf in the kennels and jeering at Alfred before turning in for the night. Nothing more than that. How could he let himself feel like it was something else?

The strain on his legs grew too much and Alfred retreated with a groan, letting himself slump onto the ground, careful to manoeuvre his body into the stale, harsh hay. He’d kept his one pelt for comfort far from there to make sure it didn’t prick, but he knew lying around would only make him weaken. The harshness of the alcove’s torches filtered onto his eyes, and Alfred let himself close them. He was exhausted. How many more days before they’d decided to kill him for Moro’s death, whether or not they genuinely believed he was dead because of him? To find where he’d buried his Clanmate’s body would be a days-long trek, and even if they did, they’d never get him to admit any sort of regret, because he killed him to protect Arthur and would do so again-

Footsteps - the direwolf, an Omega, and possibly another one. Alfred struggled with the urge to snap at his muzzle again. He hated this part, and the fact that the only human interaction he got was this-

“Alfred?” 

Alfred heard his own breath break, and nothing more past that. 

“Alfred? Alfred-” In the moment it took for Alfred to scramble to his feet and make a muffled noise of pain from the jolt of movement, Arthur had said his name twice. “Is that you?”

“Arth-” the cloth clamp stole Alfred’s words but it did not steal his eyes, latching onto the sight of his Omega through the bars, so he could only gasp out his name in a muffled noise. There might have been a direwolf with him, or other people, but they weren’t in front of him, and for the moment, he could think of nothing else but his Omega. 

Arthur was unhurt, he was safe after his heat. But he was in the Clan camp and in very, very obvious danger.

“Don’t speak, you don’t have to, oh - why would the gods let them do this to you?” Arthur sounded close to tears and it felt like sharp pine needles piercing Alfred’s heart. His Omega should never sound like this, especially not because of him. Maybe it was a good thing that he couldn’t scent anything past metal and rust, or the distress in Arthur’s pheromones would make him go haywire. 

Arthur knelt down, his expression destroying Alfred’s soul. For the first time, he saw tears gathering at the corner of his Omega’s beautiful fern eyes, his soft lips more vulnerable than he had ever seen them…then the Alpha had to pull his gaze away, the guilt eating him alive. Arthur was perfect, even more handsome than he had been the last time he’d seen him…and all he had to offer him was this.

Then Arthur reached out with his hand, pressing them right onto the bars of the cage, audibly swallowing back his sadness. His second finger tilted slightly into the cage, reaching out for him - and Alfred lifted his bruised arm to reciprocate. Arthur’s slenderer arm moved sideways, sliding into the cage, letting the Alpha’s large hand envelop his hand in a clumsy embrace. The cool sensation of his Omega’s skin was enough to send him away from the cage entirely, back into the cave where they’d fallen in love, enough to give him his strength back. One touch was all that it took. 

“Alfred,” Arthur said, his fingers running against his bruised knuckles, his voice full of conviction Alfred wished he had. “I’m going to get you out.”

Alfred had to settle for wildly shaking his head. Just like this, seeing Arthur was enough. What if his Omega got hurt in the process? And it was in a cage he knew nothing about, either, so he was of no help in this situation.

He craned his neck as much as he could when Arthur moved to the door of the cage at the side, expecting him to use one of his knives to try to slice the lock open, given that the cage had fallen into such visible disrepair. To his surprise, the Omega reached behind him for an arrow, one that seemed sharper than most of the arrows Alfred remembered seeing, and started jamming it into the lock. A flurry of clicks, a turn, then it fell to the floor. 

Alfred opened what little he could of his mouth to call out for him, but Arthur beat him to it, diving to where he was straining on the floor. The Alpha could feel his eyes blowing wide - his Omega touched him everywhere, from his hair to behind his ears to his chest, everywhere. It was intoxicating, and there it was, through the metal, as Arthur grasped onto the muzzle and pulled it off - his Omega’s scent. It felt as if Alfred was inhaling fresh air for the first time, and his lungs heaved with unfiltered need.

Reaching into his coat for presumably a knife, Arthur seemed as if he were possibly trying to figure out the restraints, but when he looked back into Alfred’s eyes, it was all over. He laid the knife, the audible thunk of the metal on the ground sounding out before the echo of the handle was muffled by the hay, then leaned forward. Alfred collapsed when Arthur reached for him, straight into the arms of his Omega. 

Arthur’s fingers went back to where they had been, nestling against the back of his head - and brought him to his nose, nuzzling him. Alfred couldn’t stop his own whimper then as Arthur let his tears fall from his eyes, falling gently against his cheeks.

“Alfred,” he whispered with a tenderness that made Alfred’s entire chest ache. “My Alfred.”

The Alpha opened his mouth to reciprocate those words, for Arthur to remove the cloth around his teeth, but in that moment, he heard another set of footsteps that stopped abruptly as his eyes looked past the pelt covering Arthur’s shoulders.

Arthur looked up from wiping away his tears, following his gaze to look behind where a knife was aimed squarely at the front of his forehead - a Clan Omega had found them.

Before either of them could recover from the shock of being caught so soon, the Clan Omega’s other hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a key and slotting it into the kennel adjacent to Alfred’s cage. A click, just like the one that had broken Alfred’s lock, then a low snarl of a direwolf filled the air.

“Good to see we have company,” Feliks sneered. “Vistula hasn’t gone hunting with me for a moon.”

Chapter Text

“We were expecting something like this, you know,” the Clan Omega’s voice was razor sharp with a snarl as he approached the side of the cage. Arthur tried to shift his body to protect Alfred’s trembling form, only to realise that infuriatingly enough, his body couldn’t entirely cover him. “Though a very slim possibility, at that. But of course, it ends up being  some beast with Sept stink all over his heavy, bulky clothes. Still, surely even your tribe has standards?”

“Who are you?” Arthur demanded.

“Feliks, if you’ve got to know. Though I don’t think it’ll matter in a few minutes.”

Arthur tried to not let those words get too much to his head, despite the seedy coating of fury lining his stomach, and got to his feet. He reached for his quiver, only to see out of the corner of his eye the Clan Omega’s direwolf.

“I’m not looking for any trouble,” Arthur made sure to speak slowly, training his eyes on the Clan Omega, not the direwolf - the direct eye contact would rile the wolf up more. 

“Sneaking a murderer outside of the camp isn’t asking for trouble?” The Omega barely hid his laughter. “You’d be in less trouble walking up to Berwald and asking for a slice of our territory.”

“Murderer?”

“Conveniently, this bastard-” Feliks jabbed at Alfred’s direction with his knife, “returned home two, three sunrises after one of our Alphas went missing. Why else would he return, if not to confess his guilt? Not yet, Vis. My direwolf understands me perfectly, see? How sad you’ll never be able to experience our bond, belonging to the Sept.”

At the invocation of his direwolf’s name, Arthur’s gaze instinctually flew to the wolf’s huge frame, pink lips peeled back to reveal a set of sharp teeth. The progenitor wolf had produced so few direpups for the Sept these last five or so cycles of the moon, and the direwolves in their tribe had been doted on for so long that Arthur barely had any experience treating wolf fang puncture wounds. One accidental nip, maybe, but that would be nothing compared to the full force of a direwolf ready to kill for their partner.

Dread collided with everything else in Arthur’s stomach, but he held his ground. What Omegas lacked in brute strength and force, they made up for agility and speed. Arthur did not even need to win the fight; he just needed to get Alfred out of there.

“You’ve not proved his guilt, have you?”

“Look at his face!” Feliks waved him away, dismissing his words as if they were nothing more than fleas. “Look at the guilt written all over it.”

Arthur’s hands balled into fists, and he did look - but only saw Alfred’s blue eyes, reflecting the night sky in the river by the cave. Haunted, feral, like the night they had met.

Alfred made a muffled noise behind his clamp that sounded vaguely like his name. Arthur would remove it, but he didn’t have time - he’d do it when the two of them were free.

“Wait just a little longer,” Arthur murmured, fighting back a sob when he saw fresh tears spring to the corners of his Alpha’s eyes. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against Alfred's. “I’ll get you out of here soon.”

“Done with your goodbyes yet? I’m bored,” Feliks’s voice came over his vision, and it took his muscles every scrap of energy they had to pull him away from Alfred. He had to get out of the cage; if the fight started there, surely the commotion would raise the alarm, and with one flick of his knife, Feliks could cut Alfred’s throat. “Can we cut to the part where you’ll let me tear you apart?”

“Let you? Why won’t you just let us go, since you just want to dispose of Alfred at the end of the day?”

“Alfred?” Feliks’s eyes glittered, and his mouth fell open as he spoke, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile that teetered on mania. “Alfred? What do I care for the Clan bastard, the shame of our tribe? No, no, it’s the glory of protecting my Clan all by myself. I won’t have to raise the alarm; my direwolf and I will take care of you by ourselves. How would you like that? Disappearing into the night, just like one of our Alphas did? Maybe we'll even tell your precious Sept that Alfred killed you, too. And with one more death in the Clan, I suppose if I took your head for having the gall to invade our camp, it’d be a fair trade.”

Arthur forced his shoulders to relax as he made his way outside of the cage, careful to keep the cage door ajar so that if worst came to worst, Francis and Matthew’s direwolf could still pull Alfred away. He readjusted his grip on his knife, running his thumb against the ridges. If he dropped his eyes from Feliks’s, it would mean death.

He didn’t have to win. There was no way he could, with a direwolf twice his weight and an Omega who clearly was itching for a fight. He just needed to do enough to get him and Alfred away.

“I don’t want my wolf to do all the tearing apart for me, so it’ll be a bit more fair for you,” Feliks said, excitement bursting out of every word. “A bow and arrow, isn’t that what you’re fighting with? Aren’t you a hunter, like me? I heard all you Sept beasts cower in your trees, waiting for prey to come so you can shoot them without a single battle.”

Arthur’s grip on his belt tightened before he spoke, drawing out his knife. “You’d slit my throat before I drew even a single arrow, so I won’t.”

“It’s good to see you Sept beasts have a sense of humour before you’re about to die,” Feliks taunted.

The Clan Omega made the first move, lunging forward with his blade. Arthur heard the whistle of the metal cut through the tension and the threat of death in the air and swerved, his left foot already out of tempo with the fight, but he’d dodged it. Feliks moved back, medium-long blond hair frisking against his face with the force, foot coming out to stop his impact. It seemed as if he’d expected something more, and if Arthur cared about his own fighting skill, he would have been furious.

“Do they train you in the Sept to fight at all?”

“You should believe they do,” Arthur dove forward, his words still in between his teeth as he swung, but Feliks was too fast, and he missed. The clearing around them was softer than the Sept’s hard, sandy packed ground, and so it was harder to move without digging his shoes too far into the dirt.

After a few more trades, Arthur realised he still had Feliks’s direwolf to contend with. Vistula snapped at Arthur's heels, forcing him to back away from the direwolf kennels, into a position of further vulnerability. If it had been during the day, Arthur thought as he parried another hit from Feliks’s weapon, the kennels would have been alive with barking. But he couldn’t help but notice that she didn't actually directly hurt him, staying true to Feliks’s orders - this was to be her partner’s kill.

Arthur tried to ignore the wolf and focus on Feliks, who was now circling him for another attack. He feinted to the left, then struck with his knife to the right, hoping to at least land a hit to the Clan Omega's ear. Feliks’s sharp eyes saw through him and brought his own weapon up to absorb the blow, but Arthur was quick to follow up with a desperate punch to Feliks's gut, careful to angle his fist enough that the hard bone of his knuckle hit.

Feliks grunted with pain and stumbled backwards, but quickly regained his footing with a hiss. He swung his knife in a wide arc, aiming squarely for Arthur's forehead. Arthur ducked and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the deadly cut - blood in his eyes would end the battle quickly. Vistula immediately came snarling at his heels, forcing him to wrench himself upwards. The simple motion had him panting, the wind never fully being restored to his lungs, but he had to keep on going. 

Back, forth, back, forth. The threat of landing a hit was becoming increasingly more likely as both the Omega males lost the edge that speed granted to them - Arthur couldn’t move fast enough to evade a slash to his outer thigh, though he managed to slice open Feliks’s side in return. If only he could - he could-

Time lost meaning outside of the direwolf kennels as the fight wore on and on, neither of the men sustaining enough injury to quit, knowing that one stumble in the wrong direction, one less parry could mean death. Arthur felt the beginning of fatigue begin to tighten its grip against his muscles - but if he gave up, not only would he die here, but Alfred would never leave his cell. 

Then Feliks cut another mark through the same spot where he’d slashed Arthur, sending the Omega reeling backwards. The slow fire of the open wound had hurt, but even if it wasn’t a deep hit, it still stung. He saw his own breath stolen from him, and if it wasn’t for his own determination, Vistula would have sunk her teeth into his leg, no longer satisfied with staying at the sidelines. The fight had to end.

But how? Feliks clearly had more experience, and-

Then Arthur remembered himself, the circumstances of the fight. He did not have to win. He only needed to break him and Alfred out of the camp.

Gathering whatever energy he could muster, Arthur forced himself to push the attack. He bunched his muscles together then surged forward, making Feliks stumble slightly from the sudden burst of speed. It was the opening Arthur needed. 

He struck with his blade, aiming for Feliks's stomach, the same place where he’d sewed up and sutured countless wounds, now aiming to tear apart. But at the last moment, Feliks twisted aside, and Arthur's blade glanced off his arm. The Clan Omega retaliated with a swing of his sword, but Arthur was too quick, and had found another suitable target. He stepped back and sliced upwards, careful to sink the tip of his dagger into flesh for as long as he could. Blood spurted from the wound and Feliks collapsed to the ground with a shout, clutching at his forearm.

Vistula howled in fury and lunged at Arthur, but the Omega was already moving away from her range, sweat-soaked and chest heaving and sweat soaked, holding his bloodstained knife out at Feliks.

“What did you do?” Feliks shouted at him, fury igniting the green underside of his lowered eyes. “You…you filthy Sept beast-”

“Send your direwolf away to your healer, and you’ll have a chance of surviving that,” Arthur spat. Now that the air had cleared of death, he could feel his own wounds clawing at his skin, but he had to stand his ground now. “I cut your artery, so you have five minutes, Feliks. Five minutes before you bleed out in front of the kennels like the savage you are.”

Pure hatred shone in the Clan Omega’s eyes. “This isn’t over, Sept beast,” he snarled, before using his one good arm to call for his direwolf. “Vistula, bring the healer over here - now!”

His direwolf looked agitated, drawing deep scratches into the dirt with her front paw, and took off - but Arthur barely saw it. 

Forcing himself to his feet, he limped into the direwolf cage. His hands were shaking so badly and his sense of smell was half marred by blood, but he made himself take a deep breath. Alfred was yelling something through his clamp, but Arthur forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Not bending down too much so as to not aggravate his leg wound, he held Alfred’s restraints steady - two quick flicks of his knife, then Alfred was free.

“We have to go now,” Arthur said, and offered Alfred his shoulder, which the Alpha immediately took, just managing to remember his bow and sheath. By now, Feliks was starting to convulse on the ground, and in the distance, the Omega could hear the steady rap of footsteps, and the wet smell of Feliks’s direwolf was coming back into his senses. If anyone caught them, they were dead.

To his absolute relief, he saw Kuma and Francis standing in wait at the edge of Clan territory as they’d planned before he’d infiltrated the camp. Alfred went onto the direwolf first, then Francis helped him on too, before they all disappeared into the night.

The passage of time didn't resume for Arthur until they had crossed over the river that divided Clan and Sept territories. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to think when he didn’t see Matthew where they had met up on the riverbank, but through the haze of pain, relief and the cold winter wind, he realised it was probably a good idea. It was best to have Matthew appear loyal to his Clan and all the blame be placed on the Sept infiltrator’s shoulders than to have the Clan turn on him and Berwald.

“So…” Francis was the first to disembark, rubbing Kuma’s small ears with his hand before the direwolf nudged at him with his nose, though not aggressively, “what now?”

“I’ll stay with Alfred,” Arthur said. The words came naturally from his lips. He glanced up at the Alpha, who had fallen asleep during the whole ordeal - he’d managed to remove his cloth clamp during the escape, but surely the Alpha was exhausted. “Until tomorrow morning, we’ll be at the cave. We’ll come up with a plan.”

“Do any of those plans involve returning to the Sept?”

“All of them, actually. I know that Dietrich will want answers, and I don’t intend to give you any of that burden. If not Alfred…then at least I will be there tomorrow.”

“Good,” Francis said, sighing. He dug his thumbs into his belt. “I’ll leave you the supplies I’d brought with me - can you treat yourself and him? No puncture wounds? I know the cold’s made your wounds stop bleeding, so you won’t leave a trail…”

Arthur nodded. “I’ll manage.” He afforded himself a glance over at Alfred’s keeled over form. “...we’ll live.”

Francis winced. “You were dealing with a direwolf?”

“The Omega commanded his direwolf to let him take the kill, so it’s nothing I can’t deal with. Just nips, but no serious wounds.”

“All right, then.” Francis reached to remove his belt, then gave Arthur the pouch where he’d kept the rest of the supplies. “If that wolf had bitten you, I’d order you to come back, but fine. If you intend to return to the Sept alone tomorrow, make sure to feed your Alpha. Don’t do anything rash.”

“After infiltrating the Clan camp, I don’t think that there’s anything worse I can do. I- Francis-”

“Yes?”

Arthur prepared himself to hesitate like he usually did when praising his best friend, but this time, he found the words came all too easily. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to save him without your help.”

His fellow healer nodded. “Well, I’m glad you’re getting better at acknowledging me without gritting your teeth and acting all smart about it - hmph, I saved your life and his tonight, let me have my fun! But yes. You are quite welcome, Arthur. Now you better come back to help deal with the mess tomorrow.”

Arthur was about to move away with the supplies and Matthew’s direwolf before he realised something.

“Francis…why did you help us? Knowing that our love is forbidden.”

Francis pursed his lips. “Well, you’re not very good at timing, given that you’re currently wounded, but whatever,” he said. “Bottom line is that you’re my closest friend. You came clean about it when I asked you to. And as healers, we can’t ignore when anyone’s life is at risk, Clan or Sept. In your case, when you were doing your duty, you just... fell in love. I can’t fault you - anyone - for that. Whether or not Dietrich condemns you two, I don’t regret my actions.”

“Francis…thank you.” Abruptly, Arthur was glad Francis couldn’t sense the waves of gratitude the Omega was sure he was emitting right now. “Really, thank you.”

“Very welcome,” Francis answered. He adjusted the thick fur around his neck, brushing out his shoulder length hair, darkened by the night and the canopy of the forest. “Now, let’s have the sappy talk after you’ve stopped bleeding, yes? Stay alive.”

With that, the Beta headed back into the woods in the direction of the Sept camp, leaving Arthur to lead Kuma to the cave, steadying Alfred with his arms as they went.

Once they’d arrived at the cave, Arthur helped a now groggy Alfred off the direwolf, leading him inside. Next, he lit the fire with one of the firestarters he and Francis brought, then started preparing the bandages for their wounds, all while Kuma watched curiously from outside. Arthur left the lichen curtain open so that the direwolf could partake in the warmth, then went to clean himself.

He wasn’t sure how well the direwolf would respond to non-Matthew orders, but he still had to give it a try - he asked the direwolf to see if he could find something for Alfred to eat, now more thankful than ever that he’d made himself finish his own evening meal earlier that night. To his surprise, Kuma set off, returning when Arthur had finished treating his outer thigh wound and getting some water in Alfred and ointment on his wounds, but not before the Alpha went outside to clean himself. They’d not exchanged too many words; there were too many things to do for the night.

“Some berries, and even two fish,” Arthur murmured to himself, dipping his head to Kuma. “Thank you - please tell Matthew you’ve helped us tremendously today. Are you going back now?”

With a twitch of his nose, Kuma’s dark eyes moved towards Alfred’s quietly sitting form, then back to Arthur’s. It made sense, after all - Matthew’s orders were probably for Kuma to stay there to help Alfred as much as he could.

“He’s in good hands,” Arthur said. “You should return before you’re missed.”

As Kuma placed down his prey, the Omega took a moment to search through his pelt to see if there were any injuries, anything that the direwolf needed looking at. The direwolf huffed in warning as soon as he got close, but as Arthur opened his palms and revealed nothing hidden there, he seemed to allow Arthur to check. It looked as if his thick pelt had protected him sufficiently from the nick of branches, and so with a twitch of his ears, Kuma flicked his stumpy tail, turning to runn down the slope, back to the Clan camp. Arthur wasn’t sure what sort of place the direwolf would return to, but he prayed that Matthew’s clear innocence, being within the camp as they had agreed on previously, would protect the direwolf also. Feliks was right - he would never know the partnership of a direwolf as an Omega in the Sept camp, but for a moment, he craved the loyalty.

Once Kuma had fully cleared the boundaries of the cave, Arthur made himself get back to work. Now his various cuts and thigh wounds had been dosed and bandaged, he felt much better - the cool winter air and the adrenaline from getting Alfred back to him safely was too powerful to ignore. 

Alfred in that cage, bound so tightly with that muzzle, the fierce agony in his eyes, all came rushing back in the roaring of the fire. Even in the background now, hearing Alfred adjust his bandages, made him think of the first time they had met. Arthur had managed to save him again, protect him. 

But what if, next time, Arthur wasn’t there, or his efforts failed? Hearing Alfred now, his shallow, scalloping breaths echo against the stone of the cave, was a blessing after all of the horror he had been through. Being so close to death, he wasn’t sure how many times the gods would spare him before they would claim him for good. 

The Omega found himself staring at Alfred’s side profile, how the Alpha hesitated with the beads still worn around his neck. One of his bruised fingers lingered on one bead, rolling it back and forth between his fingers.

Forcing himself back to his feet, Arthur had just started to prepare the food the wolf had brought back when he heard the sound of Alfred’s hand reaching out, and watched as it touched his. That single connection brought back the fire to his skin, to his heart.

“Arthur,” Alfred’s voice was gravelly, but filled with emotion, “let me come to you.”

“Of course,” Arthur did his best to talk normally, yet the sound came out fainter than he’d expected. All the feelings he’d been pressing down in favour of actually doing something threatened to overwhelm him once Alfred was close like this. The Omega took a deep breath, caught a hint of Alfred’s returning scent, then felt himself melt.

“Arthur, I…” Alfred’s words were unsteady as he slowly brought his gaze back up to Arthur’s. His arms fell into his lap.

“You don’t have to tell me about what happened, in the Clan,” Arthur breathed. “I don’t need to know. As long as you’re here with me, and you’ll survive, it’s all I want.”

“I’m with you,” Alfred said simply. “I’m already safe.”

Arthur shook his head. He didn’t know what else to say. Alfred’s love had always been disarming, and now he had allowed himself to accept the Alpha’s affections, it had left him unguarded, too. 

“Your beads. Now you’re…what are you planning to do with them?” It briefly crossed Arthur’s mind to tell him about the beads he had found earlier, but he pushed it away. Alfred came first, and the two of them were too exhausted to dissect it.

“They…I don’t know.” Alfred had to clear his throat before speaking again. “After all that’s happened, I won’t keep them. I don’t belong to the tribe any longer. I’ll never go back, even if they want me.”

With a forceful tug, steadying himself with his other hand, Alfred destroyed his necklace, barely managing to catch the beads before they scattered against the stone floor. With some effort, he crushed the two anointing his Clan loyalties, throwing them into the base of the fire, then the third that denoted him as a full-fledged. 

But when it came to the last one, he hesitated. Arthur paused before he noticed it was the one with a distinct marking, one that seemed familiar, not just because he had seen it before, but-

“It’s your sire’s,” Arthur said, the thought lifting to his mind. “The one- Matthew bore it, too. Did he not…participate in your treatment?”

Alfred shook his head, still holding the bead representing Berwald. “He did his best to protect me.”

Arthur barely managed to stop himself from scoffing. “Allowing others to throw you in the direwolf kennels is not protection, Alfred-”

“Arthur, he can’t do everything by himself. His seconds were the ones that approved it, and their agreement would override his objection. Even if his rule is pretty much absolute, he can’t run it all by himself. If the Clan thought he favoured me, the one bad thing that’s ever happened to him…it would destroy the tribe. So he had to go through with it. I’m sure that if I wasn’t his son, he would have killed me on the spot, for Moro. Even though they only suspected me.”

“That’s why it’s a secret we’ll take to the grave.” 

The cave was silent for a few minutes, only the sound of crackling fire and their mingling breaths filling their thoughts. Winter had infected some waters of the forest with ice, and the stream that had hidden Arthur from detection had fallen victim. 

“...I suppose I understand,” Arthur said quietly. His gaze was fixed on where Alfred’s fingers were still cradling Berwald’s bead. “I’m just…I can’t quite accept that if I wasn’t able to fetch you, you might have been torn away from me forever. And it’s not just that - you would have died.”

“I told myself I wasn’t going to let myself die until I saw you again,” Alfred said. 

He moved closer, nestling the bead away in his tattered pelt so he could use the hand to touch the side of Arthur’s face. The Omega let himself lean into his Alpha’s touch.

“Good. I’d kill you if that happened.”

Alfred smiled for the first time since Arthur had seen him in that cage, and it took his breath away.

“Y’know…before all of this…you mentioned a ritual, right?” Alfred spoke slower now, "Things I had to do before I wanted to kiss you, under Sept rituals.”

“Yes,” Arthur whispered. He closed his eyes as Alfred moved forward, pressing his forehead against his. He could feel the Alpha’s eyelashes flutter against his, the warmth of his breath, the heat of his cheeks. The long shadows of the cave, the breeze outside, the humming of the stream outside - all of it faded into Alfred. 

“Tell me. Because I can’t go any longer without kissing you, showing you the love you deserve.”

Arthur couldn’t help but snort. “You can tell me how thankful you are, dolt-”

“I know,” Alfred said, grinning, then he was laughing too. A surge of emotion at how much more normal he sounded filled Arthur’s trembling chest. 

“But by the gods, I really want to kiss you. You deserve to be kissed, and so, so much more. What is it? Maybe if it’s spearing a great creature for you, it’s gotta wait, but-”

“No, no,” Arthur said. He couldn’t fight the foolish happiness bubbling to his lips when Alfred brought him close, hearing the sound of the Alpha absorbing his scent. “No, no. It’s very simple. Two fingers touching the closest body of water where we first met, anointing it against the other’s lips. When the water is still on our lips, then we kiss for the first time. Come. I’ll show you.”

With that, he took Alfred’s hand and helped him to his feet, the two of them kneeling against the stream, just beside the weeping lily tree. Arthur went first, pressing his second and middle fingers together, forming the smallest of scoops to gather the water. The water was ice cold against his skin, but he welcomed the sensation - it did not sting, it did not burn, it made him feel like the stars that the water reflected.

Alfred’s blue eyes were filled with those same stars as he copied Arthur's motions. Arthur’s green eyes tracked the droplets as they trailed down Alfred’s second finger, feeling his heart quicken in its ribcage.

Alfred moved forward, closing his eyes, making himself vulnerable, keeping those stars within himself. The simple surrendering made Arthur give in too, loosening whatever walls he had left with his Alpha. 

First the tip of his second finger, then his middle finger. Arthur shivered, not from the cold, when he felt the warmth of Alfred’s lips collide with the water, sealing the memory of the touch within them. Alfred opened his eyes then, to do the same to Arthur’s, parting his lips a little with his touch.

“The ritual is complete,” Arthur breathed, removing his hand from Alfred’s lips - only to have the Alpha catch it, pushing it upwards to rest within his hair, darker blond in the moonlight. That was the final warning he got before Alfred moved forward, tasting the shaky exhale of his breath, the gentle shift of his knees against his, his hands trembling as he took Arthur’s face and pulled him closer. There was no thought of the winter chill or the world around them as Alfred’s nose brushed against his, and as he whispered Arthur’s name, no ache would ever fill Arthur’s frame again as he felt all the adoration Alfred felt for him in all those small gestures that built up to the beginning of their interlacing, the end of their loneliness. 

Then Alfred kissed him. The Alpha’s scent surged in his nose and Arthur felt himself come almost undone, dizzy with want, the need to have him shift his mouth ever so slightly to meet his own demands, to press himself ever closer. It was beyond any dream the gods would ever bestow upon him. It was the only sort of divine madness he would ever want for himself, the only sort of divine madness he would ever want to grant.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling, Arthur couldn’t help but open his eyes to watch Alfred. His flushed cheeks and loose, wet smile made the Omega’s stomach flutter.

“Can I kiss you again?” Alfred asked, his voice bashful. “That was amazing. Or is there another ritual for that?”

“No, there isn’t,” Arthur replied, then he took Alfred’s hand, pulling him upwards and towards the cave - then kissed him again. There didn’t need to be finesse to it, he just needed another way to convey his love beyond just words.

Love.

That's what it had been all along, hadn’t it? Love.

Arthur loved Alfred, and Alfred loved him back. It was so fantastical that if Alfred wasn’t right in front of him, Arthur would have scarcely believed it.

Alfred loved him.

As soon as they moved past the lichen curtain, drawing it mostly closed, they parted, but Alfred wouldn’t fully part from him. Now that the ritual had allowed them to freely kiss, that was exactly what he did, ignoring the now overcooked fish to press kiss after kiss to Arthur’s skin, finding new spots every time. It was only when his mouth ghosted over his neck that Arthur demanded him to eat first, and for them to talk again.

“...so, what happens now?” Alfred said between bites, working on some of the berries Kuma had left them. He now freely curled around Arthur, enveloping him in his arms.

For his part, the Omega leaned sideways, resting his head on his strong arms. “What would you like?”

“To stay with you. That’s all I want.”

Those simple words disarmed Arthur more than he would have admitted. 

“Just to stay with me?”

“Yeah.” Alfred pursued his lips after he swallowed. “I…I know my life is in your hands now, even more so than it was before. But it’s always been like this. I’d never…I didn’t know how to say it before, but I guess there was one more option, that being going back to the Clan. Only when you left did I realise how much I didn’t want to return, but I had my duty to my family.”

“And now that duty’s lapsed, right?”

Alfred nodded. He finished his last bite of his second fish, then cupped Arthur’s hands in his, bringing his arms forward. “I’m yours, Arthur. Whatever you decide to do next, I’m yours.”

Arthur couldn’t help but move deeper into his Alpha's embrace, using his good leg to move himself. He’d now stretched them out, giving his wound more space to breathe. It took a few moments of thinking until he spoke.

“So…are you formally Clanless?”

“Not formally, no. But as I said before…I’m not going back. Even if my sire welcomed me back with open arms, even if the Clan did. Because my place is at your side now.”

“I was thinking, before my heat struck,” Arthur said. “You might not like this, but I spoke to Francis today - I’d like us to both go see the Sept leader. If you don’t want to go, then I will-”

“I’ll come with you,” Alfred said without hesitation. 

“I’m - well, that’s good, then,” Arthur couldn't help but stumble. Even now, he was taken off-guard by the simplicity of his Alpha’s devotion. “I’d like to petition him to allow you to enter the Sept. Become a Sept member.”

The Alpha’s blue eyes widened a little, but he didn’t voice his surprise. “Do you think he’ll let me in?”

“Our leader is a fair one, and open-minded - he’s the one who allowed me to train as a healer in the first place. With the…with the situation we are in, I think he would give you a chance.”

Alfred nodded once, but something was still troubling his handsome features.

“So…what happens if he says no?”

Arthur intertwined his hands in Alfred’s, rotating his fingers so that their palms touched.

“Then I’ll be without a tribe.”

Alfred inhaled sharply, but Arthur wasn’t finished.

“What you said, about your place being at my side…the same applies to me. I won’t leave you, Alfred. I am your…”

Arthur’s mouth stilled on the word. He was Alfred’s…but not yet physically. The Sept ritual was important, yes, but it was still a light one, not permanently binding, as naturally, some people did not stay together forever. The only permanent bond would be an Alpha’s bite and an Omega’s marking scar.

The Omega just about remembered that day, clear as any other - it wasn’t as if he had to recall it until just now. The tradition was for the Sept Omegas to teach an Omega the marking scar the last day of their first heat, when their minds were clearest, and as part of their journey to becoming a full-fledged Omega. 

Arthur stared down at the now clean knife, resting next to the fire. 

He was about to move his head back when the now familiar touch of Alfred’s hand underneath his chin brought his face back to his Alpha, connecting their gazes once more. 

“Arthur,” Alfred’s voice was tender, making Arthur soften in his caress. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now. But you still have the night to think about it - I know you love your role in the Sept. That…thing, when you cut Feliks…you were aiming where to strike, right?”

“Yes. His artery-” Arthur moved his right arm to demonstrate, “I knew it would cause a lot of bleeding, but it would force him and his direwolf to act. It’s the opposite of what my work demands of me. I’m not that gifted of a fighter, as you know, so slashing open his throat would be difficult, as I doubt he would let me close. It’s…I wouldn’t kill unless I had to, regardless. The Clan healer should have gotten to him, I think.”

“Had to?”

Arthur’s answer was unwavering. “If it got to that, I would kill for you.”

Alfred seemed taken aback for the first few seconds, but then he smiled. In the firelight of the cave, Arthur saw his hand lit by the flames as he moved it backwards to tuck Arthur’s blond, unruly hair behind his ear. “You’re so cool. Keeping your head straight through all of that, saving my life.”

“Anything for you,” Arthur confessed, looking away - he wasn't sure if he would hesitate with full eye contact, and he truly didn't want to hesitate now. “Anything for-”

He didn’t even get to finish his words when Alfred lifted him flush to his body, one hand snaking around his waist and travelling downwards to cup his back, pushing him upwards to his mouth once more. Arthur pushed back immediately, hands touching his hot, uncovered chest, letting himself indulge in his Alpha’s taste - there was the meal he’d just had, but there was a hint of sweetness from the berries too, the wetness of Alfred’s tongue tempting.

To his surprise, Alfred earnestly pushed for more, running his tongue against the seam of Arthur’s lips, poking and teasing until Arthur gave in, allowing him access, letting him take another piece of him that he wanted to give away. The Omega tried to force some sort of self-denial, some sort of deterrent as the Alpha devoured him, shifting Arthur’s body to turn around to face him in his arms. This way, Alfred got more access to his mouth, but not resisting felt that much better and he didn’t want Alfred to stop.

“You can’t say those things, you’re too dangerous, especially after saving my life like that,” Alfred murmured roughly, taking only a breath to say his words before pressing his mouth against Arthur’s now mottling skin. “You’re gonna reduce me to a whimpering creature lying at your feet.”

“It’s true,” Arthur fought for breath, then they had to part again. Every soft bite Alfred placed against his skin felt like it was becoming permanent, and he welcomed the claim, over and over again. “I - if Dietrich casts you away, I’ll go with you too. I’ll become without a tribe. Even if I have the option otherwise, and don’t you dare ask why.”

Alfred’s smile was sheepish as he cupped the underside of Arthur’s chin again - but softened the embrace to rest his forehead against his, the tips of their noses touching. 

“…I can’t argue against someone I love this much, so I guess I’ll take you up on that.”

The soft smile on Arthur’s lips turned devilish. “I won’t forgive you if you leave me, you know.”

“Never, Arthur. Never, never.”

The gentle cup of his chin turned into something much harder when Arthur moved his hands upwards, down Alfred’s bruised shoulders, against his back, gripping against the muscle there to meld his body against his. The heat from the fire felt like it was spilling into their embrace as Alfred gripped Arthur’s clothing so hard that it formed creases, tasting him as he took his mouth again and again. 

That gave the Omega all the strength he needed to fully speak his mind.

“Alfred…” Arthur sucked a breath in through his teeth. He gripped Alfred’s face once more. “Alfred, I love you. I want you to know that.”

“I love you too, Arthur,” Alfred’s reply was swift, without hesitation. It was so easy to enjoy his Alpha’s affections now that, it seemed, the worst was over. 

But that was not enough. Words were not enough. Arthur wanted Alfred to belong to him, permanently, and he wanted to belong to Alfred.

“There’s one more crucial ritual in the Sept. But this one is far more binding than the kiss. I…I wasn’t sure if you wanted to, until tonight.” Arthur reached for the knife first, placed it next to them, then looked at Alfred. 

“What’s with the knife…?”

“It’s one half of the-” Arthur had to swallow his saliva, he was so nervous, “it’s one half of the mating ritual. I’ll scar a marking into your forearm in a particular way, and then you…you make your mark with your teeth in my neck.”

He then tilted his head, fully exposing his bare, creamy neck to him for the first time. Arthur saw Alfred’s Adam’s apple throb, watched his hands tighten in his lap.

“I meant everything, during that first heat, what I said. I’ve wanted it since then - maybe even before, but I cemented my own feelings that night. You protected me and held yourself back, despite everything else pushing you to claim me - even my own words. You killed for me. I wanted you to claim me there, and that feeling hasn’t gone away. It won’t, until…until you claim me, for good.”

Alfred’s eyes burned as he moved towards him, ignoring the knife, his mouth hovering over Arthur’s neck. The Omega only had one breath to release before the Alpha pushed his mouth against the softness of the creamy skin, inhaling deeper than he ever had before, gripping harder than Arthur thought possible.

Show me the moment your eyes dilate.

Alfred’s soft whispers scintillated against Arthur’s oversensitive skin, and he felt the strength flowing in his limbs as he gathered the Omega in his arms. The Alpha waited for him to collect the knife and wrap his arms around him, before lifting him as if he weighed nothing, placing him achingly gently in his nest like he had wanted all those nights ago.

Chapter Text

More than ever now, Arthur was glad he had all of his senses intact as he let himself fall into Alfred’s nest. Though it hadn’t been used in what felt like moons, the Omega instantly felt his skin sensitise all the same. Alfred’s lips tracing over his skin, his blue eyes searching Arthur’s face for the slightest hint of pain with every touch, made him tremble with want.

“Let me,” Arthur finally had the strength to say, placing one hand on the pelt that covered Alfred’s broad shoulders. When the Alpha flinched, he had to ask why, unable to hold back a snort. “It’s not as if I’ve not seen you naked before. And last time I did so, you wanted me dead.”

“I know, but-” Alfred stopped his words, and under the faint firelight, Arthur could see his cheeks were already stained red. “It’s different this time.”

“How so? I treated your wounds the same way as last time, and they were far less severe this time.”

“Yeah, but you’re in my nest…” Alfred lifted Arthur’s torso off his nest, pressing a kiss just underneath his breastbone as he tugged away the fabric to reveal his bare skin, “and I’m going to mate you.”

Arthur’s breath caught. Alfred’s scent swirled around him, thickening, coating his senses. “Is that a threat, or a promise?”

Alfred accentuated his response by pushing his hands against Arthur’s pants. Arthur could feel the bones of his knuckles tighten on the band, the strength in the fist that pulled him bare. 

“Both,” the Alpha whispered in his ear, before he tugged firmly, and all of a sudden Arthur was markedly more vulnerable. Alfred kissed him as the Omega lifted his pelvis so that he could pull the fabric off entirely, leaving the Omega nude.

The sensation of being entirely bare made Arthur instinctively want to reach for something to cover himself - after all, he had never felt like he had to be stared at this way. Yet the way Alfred’s blue eyes raked over his slender form made Arthur’s grip on the closest thing, which happened to be the Alpha’s pelt, loosen. 

“Alfred…” Arthur breathed, instead using his arms to push himself upwards more, giving Alfred a better view of his body. “Let me take yours off, too.”

“I want to see you better,” Alfred said, his eyes unfocused on Arthur’s face, but he didn’t resist when Arthur’s fingers went to his stomach, tracing lightly over the parts of his bandaged torso before gripping the torn leather of his strap firmly. The Alpha’s strong frame seemed to cling onto it before Arthur decisively pulled it off, as if he were as shy as the Omega was.

“Then…” Arthur dared to reach out to cup his face, and the Omega could scent Alfred’s pheromones spiking as he leaned forward, pillowing their lips together. “I want you to only look at me.” 

Alfred’s words caught in his throat, the Omega was sure of it, and he pulled Arthur closer, parting his lips with his tongue, his kisses taking Arthur's breaths one by one. Strong arms wrapped around the Omega's back, caressing Arthur’s arched shoulder blades, Alfred's fourth finger running against the crease of his spine, surely feeling his goosebumps. Arthur’s thumbs dug into Alfred’s undergarments, tugging until the Alpha kissed him so fiercely he nearly forgot where he was.

The Alpha’s hands came up to Arthur's now limp arms, brushing them firmly until a moan fell from Arthur’s swollen lips. He took another harsh, rasping breath before kissing him again, taking even Arthur's moans from him, so that another soul couldn’t hear. One of his hands trailed down to touch Arthur’s, guiding them back to his clothes. 

“Take them off,” Alfred growled, just as Arthur started to scent the sickly sweetness of his own slick permeating the air. “I need to mate you, Arthur.”

Arthur briefly shut his eyes, finding his balance again. Slowly, Alfred’s length sprung free, and the Omega resisted the urge to gasp, stopping again. From where they were kneeling, the Alpha was already hard, and Arthur could already see the beginnings of his knot resting at its base. He’d inspected many, admittedly, throughout his work as a healer, but none so…large as Alfred's. 

“Alfred, I’m not sure-”

Alfred kissed his forehead before pressing him back against the bedding, his hands trailing down Arthur's lean chest all the way to where his slick was now flowing against his thighs. 

“Arthur, look,” he murmured. Evoking his name should not have made the Omega whimper, but the sight of Alfred trembling at the mere sound made Arthur’s heart pound faster in his ribcage. 

“There’s nothing to see-”

“You were looking at my cock, weren’t you?” 

The Omega felt his cheeks burn at the sudden directness of his Alpha. “Sh-shut it-”

“Your body’s preparing for me,” Alfred’s voice was teasing, and before Arthur had a chance to interject against it, the Alpha’s fingers pressed against his slick, trailing up to the top of his legs. “There’s so much slick, and you’re not even in heat. I want to see how much you’ll give me when you’re in heat.”

The Omega’s entire body shuddered at those treacherous words - a promise of another night with Alfred, only heat-fuelled - the night they had missed out on.

Then Alfred’s mouth was on his erection and he was crying out, feet scrabbling against the Alpha’s nest as he tasted him for the first time, sucking softly along with his irregular hand motions. The cool air flowing through the cave felt insufficient for his lungs when Alfred’s scent was filling them, then his mouth started suckling at the top of his thighs-

Arthur’s cry of ecstasy was muffled by Alfred’s mouth - he’d not known when the Alpha had left his pelvis and come to him, but he could feel damp fingers on his bare chest now, the sweetness of his Alpha’s lips. His other hand remained at Arthur’s erection, pumping as those blue eyes watched for him.

“Are you ready?”

“I’m not sure if…your size…”

Alfred’s smile softened. “Are you still worried about that?”

“I…” Arthur’s fingers dug into the nesting material as he swallowed, “yes. I’ve never been touched before. Never…never-”

“Hey,” Alfred murmured, then he was lifting Arthur’s hips, making it so the Omega was fumbling onto his lap. “I’ve not done this thing with anyone, either. I don’t- I’m just doing what feels good. I want you to feel good, above everything, okay?”

Arthur tried to find words that would dispel any notion of his own fear, his own hesitation, but the vulnerability barely lit by the fire in Alfred’s eyes made him hesitate. The warmth of Alfred’s legs and torso pressing against him warded off any kind of winter chill as he wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, taking a deep breath. 

“Y-Yes.”

“Put your legs around me,” the Alpha commanded in a lower tone, making Arthur shiver and obey. His legs were trembling and he wasn’t sure that he’d stay upright for much longer; exhaustion started to run gently against the outside of his leg, where he’d been cut. 

Alfred’s lips against his quelled the twinge of pain as the Alpha’s hands cupped the bottom of his slick thighs, lowering him onto his erection at last. There was a hint of resistance, but it was the noise of Alfred entering him that made Arthur curse under his breath. 

The Omega had expected the first time Alfred pushed inside of him to be forced through his system, something that would be painful, the stretch unbearable - especially after seeing his length. Even in his heat fantasies, he’d thought of the force. Yet the gritted teeth he’d strained with to prepare for the agony fell away, replaced with a breathless offering, scattering across the ceiling of the cave as his body arched upwards.

Even though the Alpha wasn’t even fully inside him, Arthur felt himself shuddering, his fingers abruptly needing to scatter against Alfred's muscular form for better purchase. Alfred was hissing, with pain or pleasure Arthur wasn’t sure, but from the way he held Arthur, fingertips digging into his fair skin, they were  feeling the same euphoria.

“...Arthur,” Alfred gasped out, as if he’d been holding back his name without knowing it. His torso bucked forward, pressing his chest against his Omega’s. “You’re…you’re so tight, fuck-”

Arthur opened his mouth to reciprocate, to tell him how good he was feeling, anything, but they were so close that all it did was send another bolt of Alfred’s scent, turning more and more alluring with every shift of their bodies. His fingernails dug into the Alpha’s back as the Alpha gripped his thighs once more, pushing him lower and lower down his cock.

Alfred looked up at him once more, chest heaving, then moved to nestle his jaw between Arthur’s soft neck and his collarbone, making the Omega whine. He’d never felt sensitive there, but he could feel the rough skin of Alfred’s lips, the harshness of his teeth nicking at his skin, and it was adding to the fire building in his pelvis from where his Alpha was buried inside of him. He tightened his legs around Alfred, hoping it would make him go deeper, make his teeth sink into his flesh, claim him for good, make him his forever.

“More,” Alfred growled into his neck, his grip moving upwards to Arthur’s hips, then he was bottoming out, causing the Omega to writhe in pleasure with a sob. It felt overwhelming; his sheer size…what would happen if he were to knot him? Hazy thoughts from his healer training, about how there could be a chance he’d be pregnant, albeit a much, much smaller chance given that he wasn’t in heat, swirled around him. Alfred mating him, Alfred breeding him…

With a gasp, Arthur felt more slick slide out onto where they were joined, the sensation making him tremble. He shut his eyes, letting himself enjoy the sensation of his Alpha’s length inside of him, stretching him to the point where if he weren't producing slick, it would surely hurt. Unable to help himself, he shuddered, mouthing Alfred’s name into his skin, but unable to produce the sounds of the word.

“Please,” Arthur managed to gasp. Their desperate breaths mingled as he started moving upwards, the Alpha’s hands rushing to support his trembling form. “Please, more-”

“Take it. Take all you want from me.” Alfred accentuated his words with a nip to Arthur’s shoulder, leaving a rosy red mark.

“Does it…ah-” Arthur bit his lip as he lifted himself halfway from the Alpha’s cock, his hole clenching from the loss, producing more slick, “does it feel good? Is it…”

The Alpha looked up at him, and his wonderfully flushed face made Arthur’s cock twitch.

“It’s you…” Alfred trailed off, his breathing faster and heavier as they made eye contact. “You’re perfect, Arthur.”

“You…you can’t say that,” Arthur stuttered as he squeezed himself around Alfred’s length, not sure how he wasn’t fracturing around the sheer stretch. Even more so with the cave being saturated with the scent of his Alpha, the person he had thought of for days on end, embarrassment came far more easily to him than ever before.

H-Huge…I’ll burst…

“We’re alone now,” Alfred’s tone made the Omega shudder, and he lowered himself back onto Alfred, moaning as he went. “There’s no one to listen in. It feels good…” his teeth caught on the shell of Arthur’s ear, the rough palms of one of his hands running against the outside of his right thigh, “doesn’t it? My cock.”

The Omega couldn’t help but sputter, burning at the lewdness of Alfred's words. Yet he couldn’t refute it - as he moved up and down Alfred’s length, fighting back a whimper every time his hole rubbed up against his Alpha’s half-formed knot, jolts of pleasure spurted all over his body. For the breathless seconds Alfred was not fully inside of him, he could feel his slick drying, clinging to the bottom of his thighs, only to be displaced as his Alpha filled him up once more.

“Say it, Arthur,” Alfred teased him, using a spare hand to cup the back of his neck, bringing their lips together again. “I want to hear you tell me how good it feels.”

The Omega opened his mouth, only to stop with a sharp cry as the Alpha guided him back down, filling him up entirely once more. The Omega could feel the ridges of his knot rub against his stuffed hole. Any sort of surface that provided friction that belonged to Alfred would do, and he couldn’t help but rut for more of that heat. “I… Alfred -”

“C’mon, speak,” Alfred’s hands let go of his hips, caressing all against his waist and bringing his torso closer so he could start sucking against his neck. Arthur tilted his neck back, giving him more access with a tremble. “Your scent’s so strong here, and it makes me want to mate you, fill you-”

Arthur scarcely remembered to breathe as the Alpha’s tongue came over his Adam’s apple, his kiss stirring the pulse he could surely feel from Arthur's neck. He had to tilt his head back for the briefest of reprieves, the air in the cave doused liberally in the scent of their mating. Arthur moved his hand away from where it was clinging to Alfred’s muscled back, and lifted Alfred's face from his neck so that he could see the Alpha's flushed face more clearly. 

“It makes you sound as wanting as you actually are,” Alfred teased, his fingers slipping to Arthur’s hole, teasing the overly sensitive spot, causing the Omega to writhe, barely suppressing a scream. “Tell me. How much you need me to mate you, to mark you, to claim you forever.”

Arthur drew back, panting. “And if I don’t?”

Alfred grinned. “Then I’ll have to convince you.”

“Alfred,” he breathed, before he moved his hands away to cup Alfred's face to kiss him. The Omega started falling back, but Alfred’s hands came to secure his waist, his grip bruising as their mouths slid against each other’s and their tongues pressed tightly. Arthur could hear himself speak sweet nothings, formless words about the low heat in his abdomen, the hot and pulsing fullness of his Alpha’s cock buried inside of him, the heat of their movements-

“I want you inside - please. Please-” the Omega felt like he had to fight for air, “I’ve never wanted to be filled, never imagined another Alpha until my last heat, how you filled me over and over again, even when I couldn’t take it, I swear I couldn’t-” He fought back a sob as Alfred kissed his neck, suckling another mark into the pale skin. “You took me again and again until I was a mess in my nest, then kept on going…”

“I didn’t know you talked so much during mating,” Alfred panted against his lips, though his expression fell into a darkened smile as he noticed Arthur watching him, desperately bouncing up and down his cock. 

“I - it’s the first time I’ve ever-”

Alfred quietened him with a kiss, and Arthur reciprocated with a soft bite to his bottom lip, his head too heated in the moment to worry about drawing blood. 

“Me, too. It’s hot. Next time we mate, I want to hear you do it again. For a no-nonsense healer,” he choked back a laugh as Arthur tightened around him, hissing out his name, “you sure do love saying filthy things to get me going.”

“Y-You,” Arthur started to retort, only to have Alfred’s hands grip his waist again, pushing him up and down his erection with increased fervour. The Omega’s head fell forward, nestling against his Alpha’s neck, concentrating on the strong scent there. As the minutes seemed to crawl at a wonderfully slow pace, the friction between them burning in his abdomen, he could feel himself starting to drool.

Alfred’s pace was relentless, yet when Arthur pulled back to see his expression, he couldn’t help but notice the weakness there. The Alpha shuddered when Arthur took his chin and kissed him mid-thrust, and when the Omega’s gaze flickered to his, he could see that the careful restraint, the shyness of their previous nights, had been replaced with an almost feral hunger, a low groan when Arthur placed his hands underneath Alfred's jawline, digging his fingernails in after a particularly powerful thrust. His cheeks were hot to the touch, highlighting the blue in his eyes, the same blue Arthur had fallen in love with.

“I love you,” Arthur said softly, his words scattering with every thrust, but the pace had slowed, the Alpha savouring his Omega’s words. “I…I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alfred spoke without hesitating, reaching up to kiss Arthur again, wiping off the hint of blood from the small nick he’d left. His teeth lingered on the Omega’s bottom lip, leaving a tiny indent as he withdrew. 

Arthur took a breath, expecting to be granted some sort of reprieve, only to cry out as the Alpha pressed him back onto his nest, his left hand leaving the bottom of his spine to push up against his back, creating a perfect arch. The Omega wrapped his arms tightly around Alfred’s neck, desperately holding on as Alfred resumed his pace, pistoning deeper into him thanks to the new position. 

The Omega tried to put his hand over his mouth to cover up his screams, but Alfred’s gaze darkened, and his other hand gathered Arthur’s wrists together, pinning them at the top.

“No,” Alfred growled, pushing to the hilt as if to emphasise his dominance. “You can’t hold yourself back when you’re with me. I want to hear you, all your whimpers, all your screams.”

A throb of desire laced itself in Arthur’s abdomen, and though he tried to wrest away from his Alpha’s grip, it was half-hearted. Being pinned down so deliciously, unable, unwilling to fight against the sheer strength of his Alpha…the Omega tried to plead for Alfred to be gentle, yet he couldn’t find the willpower, and his words fell away into muddled whines.

Alfred’s hips thrusting back and forth inside of him made Arthur’s thighs open wider from when he was riding him, slick sliding freely between their heated bodies now. Arthur’s sweat-soaked chest now physically lifted from the nest as the pleasure mounted to unbearable heights and he fought for air, not sure when Alfred would grant him the sweet release of a climax.

Yet the Alpha was starting to slip himself. His handsome face started to weaken, lose control as he lost himself in Arthur’s body, harsh, low moans accompanying his powerful thrusts. Alfred pulled upwards, his gaze raking over Arthur’s sensitive body, splayed out just for him, a hint of drool at the corner of his lips. His red cheeks made Arthur quiver, and he was sure the Alpha felt his body fill with further desire.

Alfred alternated his thrusts with kisses and sucks to his neck, as if teasing Arthur about the place where he was going to make his mating mark. The sensation of hot breath against his sensitive skin made the Omega quiver against him, his wrists getting harder and harder to pin down. With a devilish grin, Alfred’s hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and it took only one caress for both Alpha and Omega to climax hard.

As soon as Arthur felt the hard press of Alfred’s knot against his hole, and the white hot heat of his cum filling him, he had a moment to prepare himself for the teeth sinking into his flesh, bonding him forever to Alfred. The sheer sensation of his body being changed made the Omega scream - Arthur could feel himself, down to the milk bones in his body, the scent that flowed freely into the Alpha’s senses, the blood he had spilled for Alfred, reforged to accommodate Alfred, his Alpha, his mate . From how the Alpha’s body was shaking, both his hands moving away to cup the Omega’s torso tightly to his, he was undergoing the same change as well.

Both of them lay there, Arthur’s grip on Alfred slipping despite the fact he was clutching desperately to the ridges of his back; the Alpha was so lost in the ecstasy of bonding to his Omega that he let it happen. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, so much so that when Alfred climaxed inside him with a groan, Arthur tightened around him to draw out his orgasm, knowing that his own would consume him with screams of pure bliss. 

Even though Arthur was expecting it, knew it would happen, Alfred’s knot slowly filling him out made him tremble him all the same. The Omega looked upwards to see Alfred’s eyes locking onto his.

“Is it okay?” Alfred’s cheeks were hot and flushed, and his torso was trembling in the same way Arthur’s body was. “I…the knot-”

Arthur simply nodded, reaching up and cupping the side of Alfred’s face with his hand, releasing a sigh as the Alpha tilted his head into the embrace. The Omega’s touch caused his body to be wracked by climax again, given the fact that the purpose of a knot was to lock in as much of his sperm inside his mate as he could, and it brought him down to Arthur’s neck, where he placed his forehead again.

“Fuck…” Alfred groaned, his voice deliciously low and raspy. “Gods, Arthur. You’re so perfect…I could release into you forever, as long as you want to take it…”

Arthur could only lie back and wrap his legs tighter around his Alpha, helping him ride out his orgasm. He felt the calloused ridges of Alfred’s hand, the texture and roughness around his cock drawing out another orgasm that made the Omega swear he was seeing stars dancing in his Alpha’s mischievous gaze. 

“The…the knife,” Arthur whimpered, right after he was able to gather himself once more. They had to do it when they still could; when the pheromones of orgasm after orgasm were there to help cement the bond. Alfred didn’t lift his head any more from the Omega’s neck until Arthur weakly lifted his chin. “I need to - I need to mark you.”

If the Omega looked at his abdomen, a small swelling given how much of his cum Alfred had pumped into him, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to focus on the task at hand.

“Yeah,” Alfred managed to get out, gritting his teeth as he rode out the end of another climax. The knot locking them together made it a little more complicated, but he managed to prop Arthur up, making it so the Alpha’s forearm was easily accessible. Despite all his accommodations, though, he shifted softly inside of the Omega, the ridges of his cock rubbing and stretching Arthur's oversensitive hole, causing him to visibly shake. “You okay?”

“Y-Yes,” Arthur stuttered, doing his best to gather himself. “Just…give me a moment.”

With a gentle kiss to the fold between his thick eyebrows, Alfred helped to soothe the stretch. “I’m yours now, Arthur. Mark me however you want.”

Arthur had thought about it. He might have thought about it again, if the high of their mating had enabled him to have coherent thoughts. In the downtime between his heat and rescuing Alfred from the Clan camp, Arthur had thought about the night sky that accompanied him when he was rushing back to the Sept after seeing Alfred. He could feel the wonderful burn of the bite Alfred had made, the shape that bonded them together until the end. 

It was a few more moments, and many deep breaths later that Arthur found the coherence to speak more normally again.

“Give me your arm.” 

Once Alfred had taken one of Arthur’s hands and placed it underneath his forearm, Arthur reached for his own pelt, pressed it between his elbow, and cleaned it with one swipe as part of the Sept rituals. 

Arthur paused to look up at his mate, and saw nervousness flickering in Alfred’s gaze.

“Speak to me, my Alfred.”

Alfred offered him a small smile. “Will it hurt?”

“Just for a moment. It’s a controlled cut.”

The Alpha nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m in the best hands, so. Whenever you’re ready.”

Arthur mirrored him, steadying his grip on his mate’s forearm before he made the cut with his knife, knowing where to cut it so that it didn’t nick an artery or a vein. He heard the Alpha hiss with pain, but it was only for a moment. 

A half moon marked Arthur’s claim to Alfred as his mate. Much like Alfred’s mating bite, the wound would scar, it was cut deliberately to, but would never wear away, just like their bond. Though it was jagged, much like any other mating scar would be, the Omega’s experience with knives and humans would make it cleaner than most. Arthur raised his head from his work and saw Alfred’s pain shift into a grin.

“You’re mine now,” he said, leaning in for a kiss, Arthur meeting him halfway. His mate’s arms felt different this time, though - they circled possessively around him, keeping him close.

Just before he kissed his mate, Arthur couldn’t help his smirk. 

“And you belong to me.”

Chapter Text

Alfred had never slept better in his life. He was sure of it.

The slight crackling of melting ice and the quiet bubble of the river outside were the first things that registered in his groggy mind as he pushed himself upwards, rubbing at his eyes. There was a hint of burnt wood, then a pleasant warmth near his torso-

At the same time Alfred opened his mouth to gape, Arthur’s scent drifted into his dry mouth, then everything hit him with the same intensity as the Omega’s smell slammed into the back of his throat. 

Hands that had been idling now tensed immediately on the fabric of his bedding, and Alfred had to force himself to take a deep breath. 

Which, of course, only made it worse.

Looking at his mate’s sleeping face brought back the memories of last night - Arthur reaching for him, his flushed chest heaving, the bewitching noises falling from his lips, lips that Alfred had wanted to kiss for so long…

The Alpha tried to cup his hand over his mouth to restrain himself, but by then it was too late. Waves of possessiveness enveloped his shivering body, he could feel drool gather at the corner of his lips, Arthur’s scent made his heart clench in on himself, then just as Alfred felt that desire was coming to clamp its jaws around his neck, the searing stopped, gathering quietly at his wrist.

Lifting his arm from the bedding, Alfred saw a jagged half-moon, matching the one adorning Arthur’s neck. Though the healer had cleaned it up well, it was still raw, and stung when he shifted his arm. At least Alfred had a high tolerance for pain, and so if he didn’t think about it too much, it didn’t hurt. A rush of warmth filled his throat at the sight, and he moseyed back underneath the covers, wrapping his strong arms around his mate. His senses filled with Arthur’s sweet, sharp scent, and the Alpha couldn’t help but watch him sleep.

“Arthur…” Alfred breathed, being very careful to not wake his mate - his mate. A few strands of the Omega’s blond hair had fallen into his thick eyebrows, and he fought the urge to brush them away and kiss him there. He’d not watched Arthur sleep like this much, having been exhausted from his own recovery, usually, but the healer looked much less fierce, much less worried. Admittedly, Alfred had been the source of said worry for the moons they’d known each other for, but he was glad Arthur could feel safe in his presence. A wave of protectiveness engulfed his throat when Arthur turned towards him, mumbling something incoherent in his sleep. 

I’ll make sure no one hurts you. Not while I’m still breathing. I’ll protect you until my last breath, the Alpha thought, placing the hand with his mating scar underneath Arthur’s chin, nestling it near his mating bite. The twinge of pain faded quickly, melding with the light sunlight on his mate’s eyelids.

This was how Arthur should live. A fruitful, exciting life in the day, and having a mate and a secure enough nest to sleep soundly with at night. 

At night…Alfred’s gaze trailed down to the Omega’s torso. A throb of desire stoppered his breathing for a moment as he realised he was still naked underneath the covers. Maybe Arthur’s life should be filled with nights as intense and passionate as the previous one. That was a job he’d be happy to complete.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the sun had just started to bear down on their cave when Arthur stirred, rubbing at the corner of his eyelids with one hand as compared to Alfred’s two, giving his shoulders a little shake. 

There were so many things Alfred wanted to tell him - how much he loved him, about his fantasy of the two of them in the Sept forest, Alfred coming along with Arthur as he hunted, stealing little moments together between their respective duties. Whatever fears and uncertainties he had held had faded away now Arthur was curled into his arms, and the Alpha declared just that.

Arthur blinked at him before two pink spots adorned his pale cheeks. “That’s…that’s one thing I did not expect to hear first thing in the morning,” he said blearily. “Good morning to you too…” his eyes lingered down Alfred’s bare chest, stopping at his exposed wrist, “...my mate.”

“Good morning, mate,” Alfred said back, using his hand with his mating scar to touch Arthur’s defined jawline. “You feeling okay?”

“Yes, doing quite well - better than I have in ages, it feels like.”

“I’ll get the fire back up, it’s-” Alfred started to babble, but Arthur simply wrapped his arms around his torso and tugged him back into their nest.

“Hush, you. Stay here,” the Omega’s voice was warm and soupy and Alfred delved right back in at his command. “It is not day yet. Just because the sun’s already awake…we don’t have to rise for a little longer.”

“Pff. If we didn’t have to eat or drink, how long would you want to stay here with me?”

“Until the trees fade into the dirt, possibly,” Arthur mumbled, rolling into his chest when Alfred opened his arms up to him. “If you’re asking realistically…five cycles of the moon. Minimum.”

Alfred couldn’t help his laugh, and he hoped Arthur felt it resonate through his frame. “Okay then. But maybe a little extra, so we can leave during the spring.”

“Mm.” Arthur rolled further into him, still half-sleepy. “If you leave me, you know...I won’t forgive you - if you dare to leave me now.”

Alfred pulled him closer into his chest, placing a soft hand behind his hair. “That goes for me too, I think. I can’t function without you on…every level.”

“Every level. After we mated last night…our bodies are attuned to each other’s,” Arthur said, using his right arm to trace the outline of Alfred’s body, keeping his touches so light that the Alpha had no choice but to shiver. “Permanently.”

“Good. I’m lucky I got you, then.”

Arthur nodded. A peaceful aura felt as if it had descended on the Omega, and so Alfred didn’t want to push the moment, and he simply lay there, letting his mate enjoy him and his body. He resisted the urge to lean forward and kiss him every time Arthur let his fingers trail over a certain ridge or muscle.

“I’ll kill you myself if you do,” the Omega drawled lazily, happily taking his fill of his mate. There was a hint of possessiveness that coated his words, but Alfred couldn’t help relishing in how Arthur’s simple words made his blood heat.

But after the Omega’s hands grazed over his bicep with a devilish grin, Alfred didn’t stop himself from  delving forward, gathering Arthur up in his arms, and kissing him tightly. When the pelt slid from the Omega’s hips, leaving them both bare, Alfred gave in.

“We have some time before we have to go,” he murmured against Arthur’s lips, hands already reaching for his soft rear to give a squeeze. His mate was already reciprocating, wrapping his arms behind Alfred’s neck. “Maybe we should spend it doing what we did last night.”

By the time the two of them had cleaned up, sweaty and breathless, the sun had started to warm the rocks of the cave, signifying that it was a good time to start travelling. Heavier things like the bedding had to be folded up and put to the side behind some rocks, an unspoken agreement to be used in case they were driven out. Alfred stashed the smaller of his Clan weapons in his coat but left the large sword behind just in case, and Arthur took his own equipment and slung it over himself.

“We need to keep some things in here,” Alfred said just before they left, noticing his mate doing a last check. “In case…you know. In case I need to find a place to hide.”

“You need?” Arthur shook his head. He saw his Alpha wince, as if he already regretted the words, his scent taking on the freshness of thorns. “No, Alfred. Wherever you go, I go too. If the Sept rejects you, then it rejects me.”

Alfred offered him a weak smile that grew more sincere as Arthur placed a hand on the Alpha’s forearm. 

“We’re bonded for life now, as I said before.” Arthur leaned back to expose the still fresh bite on his neck. “That doesn’t go away.”

The Alpha’s breath hitched, and he hesitated just a touch before pressing his claiming scar to Arthur’s bite. A bolt of lightning, fresh as a summer month, shot up Arthur’s spine, and from his heightened awareness he could tell Alfred was feeling the same. Their scents had already begun to change from last night. With his mate’s smell wreathing around him now, only common sense kept the Omega from guiding Alfred back to his now-covered nest and disrobing for him.

Arthur hoped his green eyes reflected the possessiveness he felt in his ribcage. 

“I…because of that. I don’t want any talk of you leaving me in the Sept to ensure my future.”

To that, Alfred simply lowered his chin, using his lips to gently brush against Arthur’s mating bite. The look he gave the Omega could be described as simply unfair.

A hand came over Arthur’s back, touching just above where his rear began, tracing over what felt like every crevice of his pale skin, bringing him closer to his lips. The Omega’s arms slackened, and he arched his back, giving himself to his Alpha once more.

“Okay,” Alfred murmured into the mark, achingly gentle. From this distance, Arthur could sense his own scent being embedded into Alfred’s, sharp mint mingling with sweet smelling hay. Either the Alpha knew how aroused he was making his mate and he was doing it on purpose, or he was just being innocent. Or he was both.

Arthur had to compose himself, and after he slung back his bow and re-checked his arrows, he’d managed to more or less pull himself back to normal. He shivered as he thought of his Alpha’s breath against his neck; how had no one thought to prepare him for the intensity of having a mate?!

By the time he was ready once more, Alfred had already put on his thick layers. Arthur supposed it was all right to have his mate smile and place his own clothing on Arthur’s shoulders, nuzzling the bite softly before he withdrew, taking his hand.

Arthur’s gaze fell to the lone tribal bead bearing Berwald’s mark, next to their folded up bedding. 

“What are you going to do with it now?”

Alfred hesitated before he bent down, taking it back into the palm of his other hand. There was little clarity in his gaze as he rolled it back and forth, and Arthur felt his hand tense from where it interlaced with his own.

After a long moment, Alfred detached himself from Arthur, lifting the pouch he had fastened to his belt, dumping out a handful of brown dust. He nestled the bead in there, exhaling as he did so, taking Arthur’s hand once more. The Omega gave his warm hand a squeeze. 

“I’m not a part of the Clan any more,” Alfred said, half to himself. His head was still bowed. “But I’m still my sire’s son.”

Tall trees where Arthur had once perched during his hunting trips seemed to watch his and Alfred’s every move as they walked in the forest, hand in hand. More than once did the Omega find himself raising his head, watching the winter sun break through the lining of the leaves. He didn’t notice Alfred watching him.

Everything had already changed, and he had not uttered a word of his sin to Dietrich yet. Alfred being there, his hand steady and unchanging as the two of them walked through the trees, was comforting, but as they started to approach the trees Arthur had passed through countless times throughout his life, a tight tourniquet started to form in the base of the Omega’s stomach. What if his leader was not as welcoming as Arthur hoped he was? He would have to say goodbye to his comfortable, fulfilling life in the Sept, not to mention Francis, the stability of a life within a community, the much stronger promise of survival. If driven out, they would only have the supplies in the cave as a starting point, and have to fend for themselves. Not like he cared much about them before now, but Arthur couldn’t help but wonder - would his ancestors detest him for being exiled from the Sept?

Arthur did his best to ignore the fact that his breathing had deepened and sweat was starting to bleed into his back. Putting one foot forward was what was most important, after all, he and Alfred weren’t in the best shape physically still, and despite their mating, there were still-

A thumb caressed the outside of Arthur’s own, and he pulled his gaze away from the ground to look at Alfred’s smiling expression.

“Alfred…”

“Talk to me about it,” his mate said, his tone soft. The sensation of the rough pad of Alfred’s thumb on the inside of his hand made Arthur shiver. “I can smell your tenseness, y’know. Oh, and also…you smell a bit like me now, heh.”

“I suppose that is one of the clues giving me away,” the Omega conceded with a sigh. He couldn’t help but feel relief for the confirmation that he’d taken on some of Alfred’s scent as well. “But who can blame me?”

“Blame you?” Alfred’s eyes widened, and he scampered in front of Arthur as fast as his bruised legs could take him. “Who’s doing that?”

“Alfred-” Arthur started to say, only to fight back a snort at how earnest his mate was. “Oi - listen. It’s not…there’s no one-”

The Alpha grinned, despite himself, despite everything. After the matter of his tribal beads, his mood seemed to have lifted considerably.

“Hey. I know you’re the smarter one between us, but y’know…I believe things will be fine. I’ll be the best Alpha the Sept has ever seen. I’ll say exactly what your leader wants to hear.”

Arthur couldn’t help himself. “Even if it means giving up…giving up things you want in the future?”

Like your birthright to lead? 

Alfred’s smile faded a little, but he kept on holding onto Arthur’s hand as they walked through the forest. “Yeah. I…heh, it’s a little embarrassing to admit,” he said, looking away from the Omega as Arthur turned to look at him, “but after what happened in the Clan, it brought what I want to the forefront of my mind again. And I realised that…after all, what I want in my future is just…different, now. I kind of knew it, in the back of my head, but a stupid part of me just wanted it to be confirmed, in some way. To tell me that I was really free to live the kind of life I wanted to.”

“Which is?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a good Alpha. For my Clan - tribe. You know that,” Alfred said, quickly dipping his head in Arthur’s direction to emphasise his own words. “Yeah, a part of me…the most important part was going to see my family, for sure. I didn’t expect anything back, it would be stupid to, even for me. But that night, some part of me wanted to know if I was ever really valued in my Clan, even just for a moment. And in some way, I was. That’s why I can’t throw away my sire completely.” 

The Alpha’s usually fast-paced speech slowed as he went through his own thoughts as he spoke, and the tinge of sadness that had crept in bloomed more and more, sadness which seemed out of place on his handsome features. Yet Arthur had seen that expression over and over the past day, and he hated the tightness in his chest every time it came up. Only glimpses had come through before, and that had been enough to give him pause.

“I’d actually thought about it, before my…” Arthur gestured to the ground, not sure whether or not it was wise to speak about his heat when he could still feel the stretch of Alfred’s knot inside him. “Yes, you know. Asking you to come over to the Sept, that is.”

“Really?”

Arthur nodded before he spoke. “I noticed, when thinking about the Clan brought you down. I know - I can tell you want to belong to a tribe, a group that makes you feel included, welcomed. But moving to the Sept has its own problems, if Dietrich accepts you, even still.”

A smile tugged gently at the corner of Alfred’s lips again. “Don’t you want to, too? Belong. I think everyone in their own way wants to belong.”

“On the contrary. Healers usually work on the fringe of the Sept. I’ve not hunted with anyone before, ever since I started my training. Francis is my closest friend, but given that he’s also a healer, the bond was natural.”

“Huh. Is he close with anyone except you?”

Arthur frowned, as they continued walking. “I suppose not. He’s well-liked, but doesn’t necessarily have a closer septmate. But whether or not it is because of our roles in our tribe, or his personality, I’m not certain.”

“It’s gotta be the first, right? Because your personality - you - is amazing. I mean, are amazing. Heh.”

The Omega let out a scoff. “I’m not sure if you’re trying to butter me up, but it’s not very convincing.”

“Hey!” Alfred couldn’t help but laugh, too, then Arthur found himself smiling along with him. “Look, you’re feeling better, aren’t you? The two of us are now. So maybe it’s worth it.” 

“I suppose you’re right. But, the thing you said about everyone wanting to belong…”

“It’s what I think,” Alfred’s words felt heavy with sadness as he spoke them, as if they were leaves bogged down by pouring rain. “Still - after everything that happened in the Clan, I don’t hate them. I mean, maybe now, a little. But after, what? Three moons? A full cycle of the moon? I don’t think I will hate them. Because…”

The Alpha trailed off, quiet but the scratching of his fingers on the strap of his pouch. Arthur couldn’t resist looking at him. He slowed his steps to a halt, hoping that the Alpha would see, and understand that it was all right for them to stop for a while.

“What is it?” Arthur said, wanting him to continue. 

“Oh, I, uh…s-sorry. If we have to get to camp by-”

The Omega sensed nervousness in Alfred’s scent and quickly hushed him, stepping in front of him and placing his hands on his broad shoulders. “No, not at all. As long as we don’t burst into camp during the afternoon meal expecting an audience, or before the elders go to bed, we’ll be fine. After all…on a healer’s authority, we’re still pretty banged up. So it might be worthwhile to take a bit of a break.”

It was half baked in truth, given that the haze of mating and bonding had taken the edge off whatever physical exertion they had both gone through last night, and so they found a place on some moss-covered rocks, their knees touching as they sat down. Arthur felt himself tremble as he eased himself downwards, probably due to the soreness still pushing inside of him, and let himself lean on Alfred as he did so.

“You okay?” Alfred murmured, nuzzling him. It brought warmth back to the Omega’s skin, given that they had been walking slowly for around an hour in the morning cold.

Arthur gave him a quick nod, unsure if he could calm himself down if he said anything else provoking.

“So…even in any situation? That is, if we’re both without a tribe, at the end of the day?”

Alfred grinned. “It sounds nuts, doesn’t it? But I think so. At the end of the day…they wanted to fit in. It’s not possible to know who enforced that I didn’t ‘belong’, because it was a lot better when I was a baby.”

Arthur did his best to not snort, but when the Alpha leaned into his side, he lost it. “Tch. At least it’s good to know the Clan can’t bully a baby. But frankly, you’re too kind as it is. I wouldn’t be strong enough to feel the same way you do.”

The Alpha raised his head, letting his golden blond fringe drape out of his eyes. “Really? You think it’s…strong?”

“It might not seem like it, in tribal life, but during the peaceful times, like now, it’s easier to understand. Hatred is easy to breed, but if you allow it to fester, then it rots away at you. I’m certain that a worse fate would have occurred to me if you hated the Sept more.”

“Yeah.” Alfred took a deep breath, then leaned over and parted Arthur’s hair, pressing a kiss against his forehead. He rotated his forearm so that his cut wouldn’t touch his hair. “S-Sorry. Had to do that.”

The Omega lifted his head, searching through Alfred's blue eyes as if it would give off his motive. Embarrassment peaked a little in his smell, but that was all Arthur could scent in the moment.

“What’s the matter?”

“No, it’s just…” Alfred nudged the side of his provisions bag with his foot - at least, as much as his bruised legs would let him. “It makes me sick. To think I could have hurt you the night we met, if you weren’t faster. To think…I was going to…going to put my hands on my mate-”

Shaking his head, Arthur turned his entire body to face him, running his hands down his forearms in a feather soft touch. When Alfred’s head was dipped low, watching him touch him, he leaned forward, lifted his chin with his hands and gave him a soft kiss.

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” the Omega said, his tone hushed as they parted. Alfred’s eyes were so wide, so blue, that he couldn't help but kiss him passionately again, his teeth lingering against his bottom lip. The quietness of winter, shielded by the trees of the forest, meant that no one else would hear. “I am sure of that. And we were enemies back then, were we not?”

Alfred hesitated before he spoke. His hands trailed down Arthur’s lap, stopping at where the Omega’s were resting, leaving his scar facing the air instead of brushing uncomfortably around his garments.

“...when you put it like that, I guess you’re right.”

“To continue, though, about your loyalties…they’ll have to lie firmly with the Sept. There can’t be a grey area. There have been changes of allegiances within our tribes, but…not all of them have gone well. You know you’ll be expected to fight as a Sept Alpha, just like the rest of them. If Dietrich accepts us both.”

Alfred nodded morosely. The corners of his lips listed.

“You won’t have to fight against your brother, or your step-bearer, but there’s a chance you’ll have to fight against your sire. A good chance, in fact, the next time the Sept and the Clan come into conflict. The winter will pass eventually, and Dietrich will want you to prove your loyalty that way. Despite your strength, if you refuse to use that against the Clan, you can guess what’ll happen.”

“I will,” Alfred said quietly, though there was no hesitation after Arthur stopped speaking. “I will. Even in the moment, facing my sire…I’ll raise my sword against him. But I won’t strike to kill, like always.”

“Even after how they treated you?” Arthur tried, and failed, to keep the disbelief out of his voice. Perhaps he truly wasn't as kind as Alfred, given how he would have been happy to tear any of his savage clanmates to pieces. 

Alfred paused at that, but he still shook his head. The conviction in his eyes betrayed no intention other than the truth. “Not for any of my clanmates, too. Though maybe I’ll behave a bit…I should work on how I behave around Feliks in battle.”

“Feliks?”

With a shift of his torso, Alfred ran his hand on the outside of Arthur’s thigh, the leg that was unhurt. “He hurt you. And I mean, as your mate, it’s my job to protect you.”

The Omega wasn’t sure whether to be charmed, aroused, or amused. Or all three. 

“W-Well, let’s just leave it at last night,” Arthur cleared his throat. “We weren’t mated then. Regardless, I’ve…settled my score with him. There’s no need to do more. Keeping your - keeping your head out of the Clan is the best way to make sure your attention remains devoted to proving your loyalty to the Sept.”

The Alpha made a small shrug with his shoulders. “Okay. But…I don’t want to upset you, but have you thought about what punishment you’d face back home? If there was one?”

Rubbing over the strap that kept his sheath of arrows on his body, Arthur winced. “Yes, I have. Dietrich is fair, but he’s strict. I suppose I’ll be demoted from my role, for starters. Removed.”

Alfred’s eyes widened. “Your role? As a - as a healer, you mean?”

Arthur nodded. There was nothing more to say. He wouldn’t say that he was confident enough that Dietrich wouldn’t strip his role from him, but he didn’t want to say that to Alfred, who had already sacrificed so much just to sit with Arthur like he was doing now. 

It was just that his role - his hybrid role, as a healer and hunter - was so rare that even the elders in the Sept couldn’t remember anyone that had done a similar thing, in either the Clan or the Sept. That wasn’t even mentioning the fact that he was known as both a healer and hunter in the other tribe. Surely Dietrich wouldn’t make him stop.

Then again, running off and putting so much on the line for an enemy Alpha, not to mention one that had fought in the battle that had felled two of their own, was a severe breach of Sept vows. Not treason, but indeed, a betrayal. Arthur’s loyalty had indeed wavered ever since he met Alfred, but that was more because of the fact that he was falling in love with Alfred the person, and not Alfred the Clan warrior. But what would that sound like to his leader, or the rest of the Sept?

So Arthur had to be blunt. After all, he didn’t want Alfred, who had already lost so much, to feel alone in his sacrifices, when Arthur would gladly make them. If Dietrich forced him to give up either of his roles, he would do so if it meant Alfred would be accepted into the Sept, and he told his mate the same.

The Alpha nodded. There was nothing else that needed to be said in that moment, either. The simple understanding of their mutual losses for the sake of being together, of accepting that it was worth the sacrifice, was more intoxicating than anything.

Alfred didn’t say much for a minute or two, then he moved forward. Arthur couldn’t hide his sharp gasp as Alfred opened his mouth, almost like he was about to take a bite out of his neck, then pushed inwards. He buried his face in the crook of his mate’s neck, inhaling deeply, sending shivers down Arthur's pale skin.

“What was-” Arthur barely managed to get out, “what was that for?”

“I wanted to smell you just one last time,” Alfred murmured, his voice low and heady, “when you’re drenched in my scent. Only my scent.”

“You’re also trying to-” Arthur tripped over his own words. It was maddening how much his mate’s undivided attention made him flustered. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

Alfred’s smile made Arthur’s insides squirm with pure, unbridled affection. “Kinda. I don’t like seeing your sad face as much as you don’t like mine. And I know it’s a mutual sacrifice and stuff, but…y’know. It’s gonna take time for us both.”

There were no other words that needed to be said, no other words that would express Arthur’s feelings better than his actions. He simply interlaced his fingers with Alfred’s after they got back up, and with all their gear and provisions in tow, started heading back towards the Sept camp, inseparable.

Stepping through the mossy cobble onto the path that led to the Sept camp had never felt so foreboding to Arthur. After all, when his bearer and sire had gone to the gods, frostlung had kept them all in the camp, and he had waited in the nursery for Dietrich to decide whether or not he’d let Arthur train as a healer.

But now, with Alfred and all their things from the cave, despite all his preparation, he was nervous. Drawing up a contingency plan was something he could not, despite all his straightforwardness, bear to do - the future outside the Sept was much more bleak than a future within.

Alfred must have noticed, as his fingers curled protectively over Arthur’s as they moved past the lichen adorning the fortified defences of the camp, but when the two of them started scenting Arthur’s Septmates and the camp, his nose scrunched up and he tensed. 

The afternoon meal must have concluded just now, as most of the Sept were sunning themselves given that it was the warmest time of the day, chatting and walking around. The elders’ roof still visibly hadn’t been fixed, Arthur could hear the bark of Vilnius to his right - distinct given she was the only puppy in the Sept - and the rowdy pitter patter of fledglings running around. It had only been a night and so much had changed. If there was - if only there was Francis-

To his dismay, Vilnius’s barks came closer and closer, then the direpup skidded right in front of Alfred and Arthur, her nose wet and her eyes shining as she came up to Arthur. Recognising his scent, she moved onto Alfred right as Toris came running out of the camp.

“Vil-” Toris stopped mid-call, and that was that. Arthur wasn’t sure what to look at - Vilnius curiously nosing around Alfred’s marked calf without any of the aggression he was expecting, or the deputy’s shocked eyes. 

“...Hello, Toris,” Arthur started to say, not sure what the deputy would do. Run inside and call the alarm? Pull out a weapon? Order Vilnius to attack?

Toris stepped forward, but there was no shift under his cloak for a weapon, no hatred filling his eyes. Instead, he walked right up to them, and it was only when he was close enough did Arthur notice his gaze catching onto Arthur’s neck, and Alfred’s exposed wrist, but he said nothing.

“It’s you,” Alfred said suddenly. Arthur scented no fear nor anger in his mate’s scent, all primitive emotions that would have been all too easy to pick up on. “You - the deputy.”

“Vilnius, find Francis,” Toris’s voice was soft as he petted his direpup. “I’ll be safe. If you can, get Dietrich as well, I think he was helping out with the cleanup of the food today - no, I’ll do that myself. Find Francis.”

As soon as she left, Toris nodded once. “You’re the Alpha I fought that day, just before the winter. They…they said you were dead.”

Arthur kept his mouth closed, choosing instead to keep his gaze on Vilnius’s grey tail bounding back into the camp.

“I…it’s a long story. But my clanmates…”

“I think I’m beginning to understand,” Toris said. “But…I know we are enemies.” He hesitated before continuing, “Maybe not any longer. But I am glad you are alive.”

“Why?” Alfred sounded pained.

The deputy pursued his lips. “I think…this is something you would understand. Given that you’re standing in front of me, and I am standing in front of you, neither of us wanting to fight the other.”

Alfred shook his head. Arthur could feel his hand trembling in his.

“Because I would hate to take anyone’s life,” Toris said. “Especially one who respected my own.”

“Toris?” Francis’s voice came from behind the barrier. “Vilnius brought us for you.”

Toris gave them both a long glance, his green eyes lingering on Alfred. 

“You’d better come see Dietrich.”

Chapter Text

No sooner had they entered the confines of the camp than Alfred began to wish that they had come at a less busy time.

With Arthur having been actively missing from two, three meals with the Sept now, Alfred was sure everyone would have had questions for his healer friend Francis - and judging by the stares accentuating the hush in the clearing, he was right. He wasn’t sure where to look, what to do, even - other than holding his equipment to his body and Arthur’s hand in his own. Toris had gone ahead to fetch the Sept leader.

As the two of them stepped forward, away from the trees, then began the hushed whispers.

“Who’s that?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen him. Has he been at a Gathering before?”

“He looks full-fledged, so…”

“Why does he look so beat up? It’s kinda strange.”

“Is that where Arthur’s been all this time?”

Alfred lifted his head to search through the crowd, but saw no one he recognised, which was to be expected. It was hard for his eyes to get used to the sight of the Sept camp, much more enclosed than the Clan camp, and even the overhang of the leader’s den obscured his view of the people below. Even those he must have fought against in the fateful battle before the winter didn’t register in his mind. He could practically feel the nervousness in his stomach curdle. 

Another life, destined to isolation, but now…

Would Arthur be dragged into it? The mere thought made him sick to his stomach. He was - if it was just him, then he could take it, but with his mate-

The thought flooded his mind in the same moment he noticed Arthur’s healer friend stiffening, with the direpup sitting next to him. His violet eyes were cottoned onto the slight tilt of the Omega’s neck, the high shadows of midday obscuring his mating mark.

“Arthur…” Francis said slowly, causing the two of them to stop in the middle of the path. “Are you - are you mated?”

Alfred saw the panic in Arthur’s evergreen eyes, his head twisted to face Francis, and if there was anything he could have done in that moment, he would have. But it was too late. 

The Beta’s quiet words echoed around the small group that had formed around Alfred and Arthur; gazes flew to Arthur’s now prominent mating bite. Alfred turned around, and he felt eyes cotton onto him like catchweed, his arms, his wrists, searching for his mating scar. 

“He has the bite, doesn’t he?”

“Where’s the scar? If they followed - they should have followed the rituals-”

The words billowed up to Alfred’s neck, making him feel as if he were drowning. 

“Arthur? With a Clan savage?”

“Has he betrayed the Sept?”

“Did they follow the rituals? Would the Clan savage even know?”

“What’s - is that the reason he brought a Clan member to the camp?”

“Francis…” Arthur trailed off, stricken. The grip he had on Alfred’s hand tightened. “...yes. We are mated. Permanently.”

The Beta cupped his mouth with his hand. “Gods,” he murmured, at the same time the crowd parted to reveal the Sept leader, Dietrich, Toris next to him.

“So.” Dietrich’s ice blue eyes were cool as he examined the scene. To Alfred’s surprise, the other Sept members didn’t dip their heads nor cluster around him, they merely looked back. “You have returned, young Arthur.”

Arthur bowed his head once before speaking. “Yes, I have. Dietrich.” 

“And what is this, disappearing into the night, bringing an enemy into our camp?”

“There’s a lot to explain, and I will do so,” Arthur’s tone was less blunt than usual, out of nervousness or respect to his leader, Alfred wasn’t certain. “But the two of us need some basic medical treatment, some food…”

“You’re quite bold, making all these demands,” Dietrich said, giving him a glance. There was no contempt, only a slight coolness to his words, but there was no humour to be found, either. “However, of course, I am willing to listen to what exactly transpired last night, for fairness. What do you think, Toris?”

The deputy nodded. “I’m interested in hearing what happened, too.” 

Toris’s gaze rested on Alfred, but the Alpha still felt no threat. Though the deputy had defeated him so sorely in battle and left him with wounds that would have ended his life had Arthur not saved him…he still had brought Arthur to him, and Alfred couldn’t forget that he was only doing his duty as the protector of his tribe.

Alfred didn’t notice Dietrich’s gaze examining the two of them when the leader cleared his throat.

“Very well. Francis, ask one of the Alphas to check if there are any leftovers in today’s meal, then report back to me. Toris.”

With a dip of his head, the deputy followed Dietrich, leaving Arthur and Alfred to exchange a glance, then enter the overhang that led to the leader’s cave.

The Sept leader minced no words nor time. Once everyone had started to move into the cave, he began.

“Sit,” Dietrich said, without so much as a tilt of his head. Toris sat down next to him, unsheathing his sword from his belt, placing it on the floor without a word.

Alfred found himself a dry, not so freezing spot on the floor. He noticed Arthur doing the same.

Dietrich pursued his lips into a thin line, but said nothing as Alfred slid off his outermost pelt, cushioning the area for Arthur to slowly sit on.

“Thank you,” Arthur said quietly, sitting next to Alfred, their sides brushing.

“Let's get started, shall we. First - nothing else except the truth. Nothing else will be tolerated.” At Alfred and Arthur’s nods, Dietrich sat back slightly on his chair. “Begin.”

Alfred tilted his head slightly forward, giving Arthur a squeeze of his hand to reinforce his message. The Omega returned it, then started at the very beginning - the battle, how Arthur found him, nursed him back to health, formed a friendship that bloomed into love, saved the Alpha in every way he could have been saved. Alfred couldn't help but notice how Arthur emphasised that he didn't take from Sept stores and hunted Alfred’s food by himself. 

He's trying to give us the best fighting chance.

Then came the night of the heat, and Alfred couldn't help but be grateful that Dietrich didn't ask for any more details. Arthur only said that Alfred had defended him, nothing more. That was the only part that twisted Alfred's stomach together with uncertainty; the rest was easier.

But when Arthur started talking about how Alfred had been treated in the camp once he attempted to return to the Clan, the situation shifted. He’d gotten to how they'd - he, in this case, given how he’d carefully left out Francis - rescued Alfred from the camp when Dietrich raised a hand, signalling for him to pause. Alfred could see Toris’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“You went into the camp?”

Arthur nodded once. “We were aided - I was aided by his half-brother's direwolf.”

Dietrich leaned forward, his scarred forearms resting on his knees, hands clasping together. His long blond hair fell freely as he moved. “How exactly did you get out?”

“One of the-” Arthur hesitated, giving Alfred a glance, “one of the Clan members-”

The Sept leader’s gaze narrowed, and he raised his voice. “Speak.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred saw Arthur flinch. Alfred’s chest tightened, and he instinctively extended his arm in front of Arthur.

Back off.

He forced himself into not disrespecting the Sept leader, barely managing to avoid direct eye contact, which would signify a challenge. 

“If word gets out about who helped in the rescue in the Clan-”

“I’m not in the business of sharing such news with an enemy tribe, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Dietrich said. “Now. The truth.”

Alfred squeezed Arthur’s hand, studying his mate’s clear eyes. He wouldn’t mind taking over from here. If I could free you from all your troubles, I’d do it.

Turning to face Dietrich, the Alpha spoke. “My half-brother, Matthew, loaned his direwolf in order to give us the speed we needed to get away,” he said. “The reason Arthur didn’t want to share is that, given how the Clan’s governed…it would hurt my sire’s reputation.”

The leader frowned. “I don’t like the way you speak, as if you’re still a Clan member.”

Alfred stiffened at his dismissive words. “I don’t want an entire tribe to collapse overnight. Human lives are still lives, enemy tribes or not.”

“Hm.” Dietrich’s blue eyes fixed onto Alfred’s, a shade like the icicles that coated the grass in the fields in the morning, almost translucent. “Is that the reason Arthur was so reluctant to disclose his identity? Is your half-brother in a position of power?”

“He’s close to the deputy position in - in the tribe, yes. The story in the Clan when I was imprisoned was that I was the disgrace of my sire- Berwald’s bloodline.” 

Arthur must have noticed how hesitant his words were, as his head moved to look at his Alpha. Alfred gave him a small nod.

If Dietrich thinks I still believe I’m part of the Clan, even by the way I talk…I don’t stand a chance. 

Sympathy registered in his Omega’s green eyes, his calming scent wreathing around Alfred’s senses and though they didn’t dare to share words, Arthur’s fingers trailed down his forearm onto his leg, maintaining another thread of body contact.

“So what you’re saying is that if news got out that the loyal son of the Clan was in fact, disloyal to an extent, it would shatter the illusion.”

Alfred gave a small grimace. “Something like that.”

“Hm.” The leader’s tone was carefully neutral - only the deputy’s interest was given away by the way he leaned forward. “I see. Though, I must say I’m not too surprised about the dependence of the Clan on Berwald. As loath as I am to admit it, a strong, born leader is not taken for granted with their system of ascension.”

A spiderweb of numbness crept up Alfred’s spine and he could only nod. 

“But I digress. There must be a perfectly good reason you have claimed an Omega of my Sept. Why is that?”

“It was a decision we made- we made together,” Alfred hesitated before he finished the sentence, waiting for Arthur to nod with him. The sheer motion of his mate tightening his grip on his hand made his chest tighten. “I owe him my life twice now…and we knew the risks.”

“Risks?” Toris asked. “Your injuries from your imprisonment in the Clan…”

“Well…there were the health risks, because a bite and a cut-” Alfred paused to show them the healing scar on his wrist, “could get infected, but Arthur’s taken care of it, and our other wounds will take time to heal. But…we promised to stay together.”

Dietrich’s severe gaze narrowed. “So what you’re saying is that if I do not allow you into the Sept, Arthur leaves as well.”

Both Alfred and Arthur nodded wordlessly. 

“Medically…it would also be very reckless,” the Omega added. The nervousness in his scent coated the ends of his words, causing Alfred’s hand to tighten around his mate’s, but there was a confidence that flowed through them regardless. Alfred wasn’t sure if either of the Alphas were mated, or if any of this made sense to them, but he trusted Arthur’s knowledge and his reputation would get through to them. “As you may know, being separated from a mate can devastate the other to the point of premature death.”

“I am aware of this fact,” Dietrich said. His expression remained unreadable. “As I have said previously, I value human life. However, you cannot expect me to just allow you and your mate, someone with a valid claim to the leadership of a rival tribe by way of blood, to enter the Sept without any consequences whatsoever. And I cannot gauge the Clan’s reaction.”

“If I may,” Toris said quietly, “we were monitoring the borders when Arthur failed to return last night, as well as this morning. There’s no sign of activity from the Clan.”

Dietrich tilted his head slightly. “Not even a patrol? Would the timings have been incompatible?”

“The peat near the glade would have captured enemy movement, not to mention their scents would have lingered. By this time, I’m sure one of our patrols, or even the hunting patrols, would have seen or scented something. Even in the winter.”

“I see.” Dietrich turned to Alfred before he continued. “I have my suspicions, but we’ll keep that in mind for later. However, I’m interested in what you’re thinking, Alpha of the Clan, provided that the account of your treatment in the Clan is true. What do you make of this?”

In response, Alfred simply rolled back the fabric of his pants, showing the extensive bruising from the shackles of his imprisonment before he spoke. 

“I’m not worth anything to them. They won’t do anything to get me back. I’m not worth spilling blood over, either.”

“I’m not entirely convinced those savages won’t start a war over us taking you in. Toris?”

“I feel that they would have made their move now, as Arthur had said they knew of his association with a Sept Omega,” the deputy answered, the sound of his voice just louder than the light frisking of branches against the roof of the leader’s den. “With winter, and the loss of the young full-fledged Alpha that was mentioned, I don’t think they believe it’s worth the risk of more lives.”

“Why risk anything for someone the Clan hates?” Arthur added, with a squeeze of Alfred’s hand. He did plenty to make himself sound more detached than he actually was, and for that moment, it felt like the defiant Arthur Alfred had first met in that cave.

“Hm.” Dietrich’s gaze had settled somewhat into thoughtfulness, yet he was still staring at Alfred. “Given your connection with your sire, I don’t doubt that leadership has been on your mind since birth. Do you desire leadership, here or in the Clan?”

Alfred jerked his head, but hesitation built in his throat, icicles stuck to his skin. Yes, it was true - being the child of a leader in the Clan, particularly the firstborn, meant that if nothing else went wrong, he would have been the next leader. But that had never been the case for him ever since he’d been in training; he’d always known that his illegitimacy would make it near impossible. 

Yet…Dietrich didn’t know that. He wasn’t quite sure how the Sept leader saw him now, sitting with his Omega, but Alfred needed to bank on the fact that the leader suspected his ambition. 

“...that’s true, I’ve been aware,” Alfred admitted. “But I know that being with Arthur, and coming here, is all I want now, and that won’t change. If you’ll - if you’ll allow me, my only ambition is to serve my new tribe, and be at the side of my mate. I don’t want leadership, not here, not in the Clan. I want nothing to do with my Clan, even if…if it is my birthright.”

Before the conversation could continue, two knocks against the stone of the den caused all four men to turn around. 

“There’s enough food for two.” It was Francis. “The other Alphas…well. I just brought their meals to the infirmary. Given their condition, I think it’s best to take them to the medicine den for now while they eat.”

Dietrich nodded once, out of the corner of Alfred’s eye. His expression had not changed, at least to the best of his knowledge. “Understood,” he said, betraying nothing in his tone. “Bring them to the medicine den. Treat them accordingly. I’ll bring the decision to the Sept by tonight. When you’re done, report back to me.”

“I’ll take care of Alfred first,” Francis was already walking back to their herb store when Arthur and Alfred slowly entered the medicine den. “Arthur, take care of yourself, if you can. You know where everything is.”

“I’m fine,” Arthur said, laying down his equipment, putting it where it usually went, and by the time he was done Francis was already instructing Alfred to get onto one of the stone tables they used for treatment, laying one of his furs on top. He placed down the leftover supplies from yesterday, then went to wash his hands. “Let’s finish up together, then I’ll treat my own injuries.”

Francis nodded, not needing to look directly at Arthur for the Omega to understand him. They’d been working together for so many cycles now that there was no need for many signals. 

“Right, then.” The Beta scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Report.”

“Most of what’s not been treated are surface-level injuries. He pulled the muscles on his right arm, and-”

“What are these lacerations on his face? They’re - they’re-” Arthur heard the click of the wooden button used to unlock the latch to let in more light during the evenings. “Right, they’re not lacerations, but how did they get there?”

Arthur wasn’t sure if Alfred wanted to tell, so he kept quiet, wanting to see how Alfred would react.

“...direwolf muzzle,” he heard Alfred mutter under his breath. From where Arthur was about to go into the herb store, it was a distance still, but the memory made the Omega wince.

“Direwolf muzzle?” Francis repeated, disbelief all over his tone. In moments like these, Arthur was grateful for his best friend’s excess expressiveness making up for his lack of presenting scent. “Did they… For how long?”

“Almost a quarter moon.”

“Gods. Well, I can only make out the lines of the straps, so it should be better tomorrow. Nothing to fix here, Arthur cleaned you up quite well. Did you apply any anti-infectious herbs?”

“Yes, the usual set. There wasn’t any discharge this morning, so we should be all right to continue the regiment.”

“Good.” Francis hummed for a moment. “He’s bruised and beat up, but he’ll live. I’ll handle it - go clean yourself up.”

The Omega kept one eye out for his mate, but otherwise, he trusted him to be in good hands. 

Taking a deep breath, he lifted himself onto one of the tables. The same salve, the same wrappings, the same bedside manner. At least Alfred was a lot more cooperative with Francis than he had expected; the Beta only had to ask him to do things once or so. Maybe he wanted to get into his good graces…or maybe it was because he was distracted from the occasionally painful treatment with his meal.

Arthur’s warm breath coated the cold winter air in the medicine den as he treated his outer leg wound which was healing nicely, dabbed ointment on a few of his bruises, and checked for infection. Thankfully, he and Alfred had kept the most susceptible wounds out of the way during their mating, and the sheer pleasure had kept pain out of his system.

Once Arthur was done with his own treatment, he got to his usual routine of cleaning up his workspace, rolling up the sewn gauze, and folding the rest of the unused herbs into the storage pouch. Yet somehow, the motions felt different, and the Omega found himself doing them slower, more tentatively than before. 

Would this be the last time he’d do this? 

“Hold still,” Francis’s command cut through his thoughts, and Arthur gave himself a little shake, drawing the coverings closed over the herb storage. Alfred needed him, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected to be stripped from his role, after all.

But…

Francis gave Arthur’s treatment a once-over before returning to the bruises on Alfred’s left ankle. “Your bowl’s next to his. It’ll be a bit cold, so if you’d like to warm it over the fire, be my guest.”

“Are you okay, Arthur?” Alfred’s blue eyes immediately flooded with concern for his mate, and Arthur felt his gaze rake over his body. 

“Quite all right, thank you,” Arthur said softly. It felt odd to sound so formal given that they’d…well, but Francis was there and he’d much rather keep their love to themselves. “Take a rest, you’ve been through a lot.”

“I’m finishing up already, you don’t need to worry. I’ll give him a place to sleep afterwards.” 

That seemed to be settled, so Arthur took his bowl and thought to move away for a moment, but Francis wasn’t done.

“We need to talk.”

Arthur stiffened. This had been expected, but to hear it so blatantly was jarring. Francis wrapped damp gauze around the last of Alfred’s bruises and directed him to the resting area before he had even taken a single bite. He heard the soft movement of bedding, then the rustle of the willow curtains that covered the resting area, then Francis’s footsteps.

His fellow healer sighed, sitting down next to where Arthur was, before he started to speak.

“Arthur, what were you thinking?”

“I - look, it was-”

Francis pushed a slender hand through his hair, groaning. “What happened to resting?”

“We did rest, afterwards!” 

The Beta rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid. Mating so often and so intensely that your Alpha is still tender when I checked his lower extremities, and you still visibly wincing while you’re sitting down is not resting.”

Arthur huffed, but he did not respond. 

“Look. I understand mating is a sensitive…topic, but you should have told me. You shouldn’t have - it’s not that I don’t trust you to have your head firmly on your shoulders, but you shouldn’t have gone behind my back, or not given me any warning. About all of this.”

“That wasn’t my original intention. I didn’t mean - I wouldn’t shut you out on purpose. It’s just the fact that when we talked, that seemed like the right thing to do.” Arthur’s toes clenched in his shoes. “The natural thing.”

“It complicates things, that’s for sure, but when haven’t you,” Francis muttered. “I - look. As I said already, it complicates things. You’ve broken another rule.”

“Healers can have mates as long as there’s another healer in the tribe-”

“Not that one, the fact that Alfred is still technically affiliated with the Clan!”

“I - yes, but-”

“Think about it, Arthur,” Francis urged. “Which was the role you were not born into, when your nature was found out? Which role is the one you pleaded for Dietrich to let you train in?”

Arthur sucked in a breath before replying. “I know.”

“He’ll take away your role as a healer, if he sees fit for punishment.”

“...I’m prepared for that.”

His best friend gave him a disbelieving look, but he let it go. The conversation lapsed for what must have been only a few minutes, but felt like an eternity.

Then Francis spoke. 

“...do you think Dietrich will separate you two? As in, do you think he’ll insist on sending Alfred away?”

“He’s not that...no. We’re mated, after all. And we both insisted on staying together.”

Francis nodded, then the conversation ended.

Arthur couldn’t help himself. “...are you angry with me?”

“Angry?” Francis asked. “About the mating?”

“...yes.”

The Beta grimaced at that, pushing back his ever so slightly rumpled hair again. “No, not really. More disappointed than anything. But if your status as mates jeopardises your return to the Sept, I will be.”

“I…I’d hope he’d understand.”

“I’m not sure if he knows how intense a mating bond between Alpha and Omega is, with all due respect. Neither does Toris, who is also unmated. And his other main consulting party-” Francis gestured to himself, “is clearly a Beta.”

“Would he ask the other Alphas about what a dangerous mistake that would be?”

“Maybe. But I’m not sure how they feel about Alfred, not just yet, so I’m unsure whether that’s to your favour or not. When I went to the lunch area, everyone was already talking about what happened in the Clan camp. Partly why I just went and got the food for you was that I didn’t want one Alpha being swarmed with questions. Eat.”

Arthur realised he’d left the bowl untouched, and picked up his wooden spoon again. “I thought they didn’t want to because they already hated Alfred.”

“No, surprisingly.” Francis dried the towel he had been using, hanging it over the carved branch hanging over the stones. “The fact that your mate arrived all bruised and broken and whatnot has got them talking, at least.”

“Mm,” Arthur mumbled around a bite of food. “I was worried.”

“Worried?”

“That…” He turned around to where Alfred was now fast asleep and imagined his bandaged chest rising and falling. “That he would be ostracised again. An outcast. Even if Dietrich accepts our bid for him to join the Sept, he would be as alone as he would be in the Clan, with only me for company.”

Francis frowned, following the Omega’s gaze. “Maybe. But that’s something he’s probably prepared for.” 

Arthur’s stomach tightened. “After all he’s sacrificed, to be here with me, to be my mate…I won’t let that happen.”

The confidence he exuded in his words didn’t match the way they faded away, mingling with the fragile willow, and Arthur prayed to the gods they would somehow reach Alfred even in his rest. 

The light grazing the clearing in front of the medicine den grew dimmer and dimmer as Arthur waited to be summoned. Francis spoke with him for a little more before taking the now empty food bowls back to the Alphas on duty, then returning to Dietrich, leaving him alone. 

It wasn’t as if Francis had commanded him to not touch anything, but after their conversation and Arthur’s own cooped-up thoughts, it felt wrong. All his confidence that he would be able to retain his own role after everything had dissipated, gathering at the soles of his feet. Francis was right - the choice of punishment for him was all too clear, having betrayed the Sept in a way that could not be explained away by caring for another human being.

Fear built in Arthur’s throat, and he could sense his own scent contract, swirling around him in a haze that threatened to choke him. All his knowledge that he’d learned over these cycles of the moon, the respect he’d earned, all of that could be at risk because-

Unable to help himself, he turned backwards, looking at the willow that hid Alfred from his view. His legs shifted and the rest of his body followed, his trembling hand brushing away the curtain and letting in the faint darkness.

Arthur placed his hand on Alfred's bandaged chest, his sides bundled with furs to keep him warm, checking for a heartbeat. It beat steadily underneath his touch. Arthur leaned closer, to the vulnerability of his neck, and took in the scent there - sweet-smelling hay, apples, roses now, too. His peaceful expression made Arthur’s shoulders relax just by looking at it.

“If you were the last person I ever nursed back to health,” Arthur said softly, shifting upwards so their noses were brushing against one another, “it would be worth it.”

This was where he belonged - at Arthur’s side. As long as they were together, what if Dietrich stripped him of his healer role? Alfred was safe, in a tribe that would learn to respect him with time, where he could get a fresh start. Arthur would give up his role for him, in the same way Alfred had given up his family and his life in the Clan for him.

Arthur couldn’t help himself - he held back his hair and leaned forward, interlocking his lips with Alfred’s. Gently, gently, taking a little bit of his mate with each nudge of his chin, more and more until he felt his Alpha stir. His blue eyes flew open, Arthur could feel it through the flutter of his eyelashes on his skin, but as soon as Arthur’s eyes opened as well, he saw he’d relaxed.

“...Hey,” Alfred panted as they parted, his cheeks rosy even in the dusk. “What was that for? Not that I’m complaining-” he abruptly broke off when he scented Arthur’s distress, or at least the remnants of it.

Arthur wasn’t sure where he learned it from, or if he even had to learn it in the first place, but the Alpha’s voice immediately softened, and he pushed himself upwards. “Hey, hey, c’mere,” he said tenderly, his tone lowering as he enveloped Arthur in his arms, wrapping him close. It felt so good, so right to give into his Alpha’s protection that Arthur curled into him immediately.

“Did something happen? Did they call for us yet?”

“No, but…I was just thinking. About the fact I’ll have to give up my role.”

Alfred’s handsome face crumpled. “Oh. Is there, uh, something I can do to make it better?”

“You’re doing it now,” Arthur exhaled, leaning further into him, stopping just shy of applying actual force to his chest. “It’s…you shouldn’t feel bad.” There was nothing else that would be more useful than the truth, and he gave it to him willingly.

“Things are gonna be okay,” Alfred said after he’d finished. “As long as we stick together, I’ll be fine with everything.”

“Did you think about it as well, when you rested?”

Alfred’s eyes rounded, and he placed a kiss on top of Arthur’s rumpled hair. His smile returned.

“Well, no. I only dreamed of you.”

Arthur was about to either reprimand him for being so sappy, or allow himself to blush fiercely, or perhaps both, when the lichen curtain swished and Francis entered, giving them enough time to spring away into a less compromising position.

There was only one reason why Francis would fetch them, and Arthur stood before the Beta spoke.

“Dietrich’s making his announcement now.”

The Sept members all gathered near the entrance of the camp, just underneath the overhang that housed the leader’s den. Alfred already could see the flicker of torches, the heat echoing off his bandaged face as he slowly walked through. Arthur had talked briefly about how his injuries could garner him sympathy, and if he could play up that aspect of his ordeal in the Clan, it would be one of the few good things his imprisonment had brought him.

There were whispers even now, but the blanketing numbness of the winter, coupled with the solemnity of a leader’s meeting made them less conspicuous than before. Alfred and Arthur found a place next to Francis and started moving there, but Alfred couldn’t help but look at everyone around them. Would they shift away in disgust, run away, back off?

Alfred tried to not let the lump in his throat cloud his vision as he looked down at the floor, then up again. No shoes scuffled away, no disgusted hisses, no soundless glares as he moved through the crowd, no pure hostility filled the air with its sour scent. He wasn’t even sure what to do, other than holding onto Arthur’s hand. 

His Omega carried himself impressively, not saying anything, yet nothing like the trembling violet the Alpha was certain he was behaving like now. He took his place next to Francis and only gave Alfred’s hand a caress with his thumb, raising his head to look at the cave where the leader and deputy were meant to emerge.

To Alfred’s surprise, when Dietrich and Toris did emerge, they did not stay at the top of the overhang, rather they came down. A few nodded in acknowledgement, but it lacked the reverence Alfred had come to expect from how people treated his sire. After all his cycles in the Clan, with the tribe’s daily life and hierarchy being built so tightly around his sire, it made his stomach churn. 

“Septmates,” Dietrich said, not wasting any time. “As it has no doubt come to your attention, this afternoon, Arthur returned to the Sept, bearing his newfound mate, Alfred, in tow. Said mate is a bastard son of the Clan leader, Berwald.”

Whispers immediately sprung up - after all, Alfred’s existence was not particularly well known, as he had barely been able to leave the Clan up until that fateful battle, and he knew that and before his birth had even been announced, his bearer had left the Clan. Being the son of Berwald, and at the time, still successor to the role of leader until Alfred’s bearer left, they had waited in case he didn’t survive, and it had never ended up happening. Alfred’s status and his association with the Clan would have spread, but how close he was to the leader had probably remained unknown.

“After consulting with my deputy, and Arthur and Alfred themselves, I have good reason to believe that Alfred has been Clanless for some time, and was in fact taken captive in the Clan camp. During our discussion, he has also fully renounced any loyalty he has to the Clan. Coupled with the fact that there has been no activity on our shared borders these few sunrises, at this time, I do not believe that I am putting the Sept at significant risk by taking him in.”

The whispers became loud snippets of conversation, conversation that Alfred was just about to ignore thanks to the huge feeling of relief in his chest. Arthur exhaled, thumb stroking his knuckles, and Alfred resisted bringing his Omega into his arms, keeping him close.

“However,” Dietrich continued, and the fleeting burst of joy began to fade, “this will not come without conditions. First, in the case of the Alpha Alfred: he will be treated as a non-full fledged member of the Sept until he has demonstrated his worth as a warrior of our tribe. Toris has volunteered himself to personally supervise and assess his progress, as well as assert his loyalty.”

“That’s the best I could hope for,” Alfred muttered to Arthur, raising his eyes to find the deputy, who nodded. 

“Additionally, in light of his defection,” Dietrich’s gaze locked onto Alfred's, “he will be disallowed from taking leadership positions in the Sept until my rule ends, or if he garners the Sept’s approval through a vote. This must be stated, as I am aware some septmates will be concerned about his association with the Clan leader, and of course, now his history of defection.” 

Alfred swallowed. All his ambitions, his hopes, his plans for his tribe were forced to be dashed away into the darkness, pushed away. It wasn’t a full-out ban, but given that Dietrich wasn’t exactly old, and the Sept was not likely to accept him wholeheartedly any time soon, it might as well have been. He’d always wanted to lead in some way, especially when there had finally been someone other than his family to listen to his ambitions, but now…

“Those are the requirements for his acceptance into the Sept. Should he fail to integrate or prove his loyalty through his training, or exhibit dangerous ambitions, he will be exiled immediately, along with his mate. Now, onto the topic of Arthur.”

Alfred only had the strength to glance briefly at his mate, who looked pale. He felt a nudge against the sides of his left foot, preceding Arthur’s other hand coming to grip his arm.

“I will overlook his transgressions when it came to treating Alfred during their initial encounter after the latest battle. Toris has provided a valuable account of the battle that proves Alfred did not kill one of our Alphas during the encounter just before the winter, and it is on these grounds that I have not immediately driven him out from our camp. Arthur, initially, was only performing his duty as a fellow human to heal his injuries, which, by all accounts, would have eventually proven fatal without care, as he was the duelist sent by the Clan to fight Toris. Francis has confirmed under oath that Arthur stole no prey from the Sept, and caused no overall loss to our medicine stores during treatment.”

Alfred dared to move his head towards the crowd, and saw hints of recognition start to appear in the Sept members’ minds. 

“Did he say anything about my role when he spoke privately to you?” he heard Arthur hiss.

“No,” came Francis's hushed answer, “he only asked me questions about your testimony. I’m not sure what he’s planning to do; only Toris knows.”

“Thanks for speaking up for me anyway.”

“Do you have to sound so reluctant…”

“As such, I will not administer punishment, given that his efforts and time did not negatively impact our Sept. However.” Dietrich paused. “Taking a mate outside of the Sept is a form of treason, even if his mate no longer belonged to an enemy tribe during then. It is something I cannot simply allow to go unaddressed.” 

Alfred heard his mate take a deep breath.

“As such, effective immediately, and until further notice, I will be stripping Arthur’s rights and privileges afforded to him by the healer position, and reinstating him back to his normal role. Failure to honour or accept either of these conditions, by either of you,” Dietrich looked directly at them, “will result in immediate exile from the Sept.”

Chapter Text

Alfred woke up at the crack of dawn that day, Arthur fast asleep against his arm. 

Given their hasty entrance into the Sept camp, they were allowed to sleep in the medicine den until further notice. Francis had recommended they stay together like any other mated couple, to prevent either of them becoming too possessive over the other, owing to the potential of increased fights in the dens. Alfred wasn’t too knowledgeable about the whole thing, but whatever kept the two of them together, he was happy to agree to.

Of course he’d said yes to Dietrich’s terms. Arthur had said yes, too, despite having to give up his beloved work as a healer. There had been no hesitation, no waver in conviction, one of the things Alfred had fallen for in the first place. But last night, Alfred had to watch him sleep before nodding off himself; he couldn’t sleep otherwise.

The tiny crease between Arthur’s thick eyebrows had haunted him before he, too, gave himself to sleep. Nothing could be perfect, and they’d both had to make sacrifices, but Alfred couldn’t shake off his old thinking from before. He couldn’t protect Arthur from everything, but he could damn well try.

A finger against the underside of his chin interrupted his thoughts.

“You’d better not be thinking about anything foolish,” Arthur grumbled, switching so that he sat on the bed. “Especially now that we’re mated, I won’t tolerate any of it.”

Alfred couldn’t help himself, leaning down and dipping his chin into the elegant curve of Arthur’s neck, taking in the scent there. He felt satisfaction run down the length of his throat, lucid honey that he sipped from if he found an empty nest during his solitary patrols, and didn't stop himself from taking another inhale.

The usual elements of Arthur’s scent called out to him, but there was something there, something else that cushioned the aroma that thickened in his mouth. It took Alfred another breath, his hands fitting against the back of Arthur’s nape and his waist to realise it was his own.

Every shift of his fingers on Arthur’s skin had never felt so right. Alfred opened his eyes, took in the dark ridges of his claiming bite, then felt his jaw clench. He wanted more. He wanted to leave marks, carve himself onto his mate more, claim him over and over again until his body would not let anyone forget that Arthur was mated to Alfred. His Omega’s guard was down, and for a forbidden moment, Alfred couldn’t help but think of what he wanted to do to him. 

When he finally emerged from his Omega’s neck, having had to calm his breathing, he saw Arthur’s eyes, coated with the glaze of desire.

“Are you…are you quite done?” Still, there was no irritation to be found in his voice, just the same desire that throbbed in Alfred’s abdomen. “You…scenting me like that first thing in the morning-”

Alfred grinned, moving his hands so that they gently shifted Arthur’s body back onto the bed they shared, the sole double bed in the medicine den. “You can, too, if you’d like.”

The Omega’s nose twitched, not unlike how a rabbit’s would. 

“Well, seeing as you’ve gotten your fill this morning, I suppose I should, too,” Arthur gestured for Alfred to come closer. His voice was hushed, as despite the fact they were alone, Francis’s sleeping quarters were only separated by a wall of stone and the willow curtains. The Alpha’s arms encircled his torso, being careful to avoid the bandage at the side of his shoulder, cupping the Omega close. 

Arthur looked up at him, saying nothing else, all arousal hushed away for now. Their faces were close enough that Alfred could see the vulnerability in his Omega’s expression.

“Don’t do that,” Arthur ran his thumb against Alfred’s right eyebrow, trailing down in a stroke of his face that the Alpha leaned into. His chest felt unreasonably tight. “Your face doesn’t suit a guilty expression.” 

“Sorry. I’m trying to not…think about it too much.”

“That’s the wrong way to go about it, my love,” Arthur’s thumb stroked over his cheek. The simple invocation of the nickname caused the ropes tied around Alfred’s heart to loosen a little. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, but I’d like you to talk to me about it.”

“Are you still thinking about yesterday?”

“Yesterday? Oh, you mean the terms.”

“Yeah.” Alfred made a face. “It’s…I don’t know. Again, it’s the best I could have hoped for, but I wish you didn’t have to give up your role.”

“I wish you didn’t have to be demoted to a fledgling,” Arthur replied, pushing into him so that his body moulded exactly to the curve of Alfred’s body. The Alpha’s hand moved up, against the dip of his waist, then lingered near his torso. “It feels humiliating.”

The Alpha shrugged, being careful to do it slowly so that he wouldn’t overwork his pulled muscles. “It’s…I’m fine with it. Though our tribes are similar, I still gotta learn the ways of the Sept. Having the deputy train me is…I don’t know. I’m honoured, it’s the best way, it is, but at the same time, my sire trained me. When I was actually a fledgling.”

“Mm.” Arthur’s hands lingered, too, but they ended up being comfortably nestled against Alfred’s chest. “So it hurts in the same way, because you think it’s the same circumstances - that no one wants to train you because you’re…tainted.”

“Yeah. Didn’t take that long to figure me out, huh?”

The Omega’s eyes rounded with pride. “As I said, I am your mate. Do you - hm. Do you remember what we talked about that night after the Gathering?”

“Every word.”

“I don’t think you’re as undesirable as you think you are. Toris is trying to atone for what he thinks is his sin, injuring a much less experienced fighter, to the point of-”

“Near death?”

Arthur nodded before he spoke. “Here, the deputy and leader work together in tandem to find someone to train fledglings. He would have suggested it himself immediately, anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Now, let me take your scent in. I think I’ll need it to keep going today.”

“Pff, okay,” Alfred leaned forward, covering Arthur’s body with his, his strong hand cupping the back of his Omega’s head, keeping him there. “You’ll see why I had to later-”

“There’s an awful lot of me in your scent,” his Omega’s words were muffled against his skin. “Is this a permanent thing?”

“Aren’t - I mean, you gotta know, right? I wouldn’t mind, but…”

“I like leaving my mark on you.” 

From those words alone, Alfred’s mind short-circuited. His mate was withdrawing now, a mirthful smirk on his face, the same sort of expression that had made his blood heat and his breath deepen. Mirroring his earlier touch, the Omega came to cup the side of his face, pulling them together.

“Didn’t you like it, claiming me?” 

The Omega’s lips pressed harshly on the bones of Alfred’s throat, suckling so that it left a mark. Alfred was certain that if Omegas’s teeth were built to do so, Arthur would have sunk his teeth into Alfred's skin. Somehow, no one seemed to have told Arthur this, as he kept trying, his nails digging into Alfred's shoulders as he scrambled for purchase. It was adorable, and Alfred resisted telling him in favour of letting Arthur enjoy him.

As his mate continued, little moans and gasps escaped his lips, and the two of them began to grow even more entangled. By the time Arthur had to take a break for some air, trying in vain to tease his hair back out of his eyes, he was on top of Alfred, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, utterly divine. 

“What?” Arthur uttered, as if he didn’t know he was the reason for Alfred acutely feeling all the blood in his body rush to his lower half. “Id…idiot…what are you looking at…”

Alfred only had to run a firm hand across all the marks Arthur had left on him in his attempt to claim him for the Omega to huff.

“Is there a problem?”

“No, there’s not,” the Alpha said, trying to keep his tone light. “Just that…it’s my turn.”

“Your turn? Alfred-” Arthur’s gasp was swallowed by the Alpha’s fingers tugging at his garments, “you’re still sore, and we both - yesterday, we were treated-”

“Shh. We mated the night you rescued me, right?” Alfred hoped his smile was every bit as smug as he felt, and from how Arthur’s cheeks turned redder and he scowled, it was working. “It’s still early, and Francis is on the other side…”

“We’ll - he’ll hear us!” Still, Arthur was lifting himself off of Alfred’s body, allowing the clothing to be slipped off - his Omega even kicked it off to the side. 

“I’ll be gentle - uh, gentler. Just paying you back for all the marks you left on me.”

Arthur snorted, though he abruptly stopped when Alfred removed his own clothing, his gaze immediately moving to his erection. He moved off the bed, letting Alfred shift himself closer.

“You’d better not injure yourself again.”

“Already said I’d be gentle,” Alfred said in between kisses as Arthur leaned forward, switching their positions. “I won’t hurt you.”

He watched intensely as Arthur moved his hips forward, his hands reaching for the carved headboard. The way his hands hesitated made Alfred think of the way they had first touched each other in the cave, Arthur’s hands slowly moving from his ear to his chin when they had embraced.

Alfred placed a kiss in the middle of his hair. If Arthur couldn’t decide…he’d take on the burden for his mate.

“On your knees.”

He heard Arthur exhale, saw his lithe body shiver. His hands fell onto the furs, the lone garment that he still wore slipping down from his body, exposing his bare back. Unable to help himself, Alfred ran his fingers against the curve of Arthur’s spine, using his lips to feel against the back of his neck, taking in the scent that rested there again.

“Alfred-” Arthur’s breath hitched, as he surely felt the heat of Alfred’s body behind him. “Don’t - don’t tease-”

The Alpha nuzzled him, made sure his hands and knees were firmly on the furs, then resumed teasing the back of his neck with his lips and teeth. It was as if yesterday had fallen to the wayside, and there were only the two of them, Alfred coaxing whimpers and low groans from Arthur’s mouth with his caresses. There was nothing but instinct guiding him as he lavished attention upon his mate, using his hands to let Arthur know he was moving behind him, stretching him slightly open. Arthur wasn’t as tight as he had been during their first mating given that it had only been a day, but there was enough resistance for Alfred to gently tease open.

Alfred heard Arthur fight back a swear. “Bloody…if you don’t-”

“You only told me to not tease, right? You didn’t say it had to be fast,” Alfred’s hands moved from the base of Arthur's spine to wrap against the inside of his thighs, rubbing briskly until he shuddered. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this.”

Arthur’s gaze flitted over his shoulder to Alfred’s erection, at full mast and leaking, and did not move. 

“Then I won’t disobey.”

With his approval, Alfred parted his mate’s legs slightly, taking a deep breath before penetrating him. He saw Arthur’s hips physically shake with the force and bit back a groan at the sight.

Despite his slight looseness, the Alpha could have sworn Arthur felt as tight around him as he had the night of their mating. Given that they were now on a much more comfortable surface than stone separated by their bedding, and they had healed from their injuries, he held back less. Gritting his teeth couldn’t ward off his own splintering mind around the heat of his mate’s insides, coupled with Arthur’s desperate gasps as Alfred filled him over and over.

After a few minutes, Arthur’s shaking torso gave out, and he sunk his chin onto the bed, barely managing to gasp out Alfred’s name as he raised his hips for his Alpha. Alfred knew he shouldn’t grip the outside of Arthur’s thighs, just in case he nicked Arthur’s still recovering wound, so he returned to his mate’s inner thighs, gripping them tightly as he reoriented himself to push deeper. 

“I didn’t know we’d be doing this until you tried to mark me, y’know,” he teased, rubbing and rubbing the insides of Arthur’s thighs until the Omega bucked with a sob, “but I promised myself you’d be well taken care of, so that’s what I’m doing right now.”

“You, you should, ah-” Arthur tried his best to fight for a breath, but his words were lost to muddled moans that the Alpha could practically taste the sweetness from, “ah, ah-”

“S’okay, Arthur…enjoy yourself,” Alfred’s voice was low and husky as he deepened his movements, watching Arthur’s hips tremble with every thrust. “I’ll take care of it.”

He wasn’t sure if his Omega said anything, but Arthur settled down, letting himself cry out into the bedding. From where he was moving inside of him, Alfred could see his knuckles whiten from the effort of gripping onto the squeaking frame of the bed. 

Maybe next time, we’ll be completely alone, so he doesn’t have to hold back…

Given that Alfred was taller than Arthur, he was able to tower over him, kissing a trail over the dips of his spine as he moved upwards, bringing Arthur’s face around to see his expression. As always, his mate did not disappoint. The face his otherwise put-together, well-maintained Omega always kept on was diverted by his all too erotic melting expression. It was one that made Alfred finally push to the hilt, garnering a scream that had to be quickly muffled by Alfred’s hand.

Still, the Alpha lingered, placing two fingers teasingly at the edge of Arthur’s mouth, and the Omega accepted them, too aroused and wanting to even nip at them. He pushed his shivering hips even firmer against Alfred’s own, begging for more in ways he would never vocalise. Alfred had to pull back to take a breath, and noticed lovely pink marks, just like the ones that adorned his collarbones, adorning Arthur’s trembling thighs.

Alfred gave everything to his mate until he, too, couldn’t hold on. One more glance at Arthur’s hips shifting with the strength of his thrusts sent him over the edge, engulfing his exhausted Omega with his arms, bringing the two of them down from their climax.

“I’ll make your every night as passionate as this,” Alfred murmured against the shell of Arthur’s ear; he could already feel the Omega slipping back into sleep. “Just say the word.”

Try as he did, Alfred admittedly spent the rest of the very early morning in a haze. They had some time before Francis woke, and used the time to clean themselves up after Alfred took Arthur twice more, talking in hushed tones. In the end, they went back to sleep, though that did involve a mini-argument about wanting the other to go to bed that was less of a non-argument and more of a way to dote on their mate.

It was hard - Alfred hadn’t received any sort of guidance on how to become a good Alpha for his Omega. But as long as Arthur was with him, he’d spend every day until he drew his last breath doing his best. 

Once he woke again, Arthur was still asleep, but from the sounds outside, the tribe had already started to move around. Covering his Omega with his furry pelt, probably tired from that morning’s activities, Alfred was prepared to leave the medicine den when he sighted Toris walking with the elders.

“...and that’s the plan for today. I’ve already organised the two groups sent out for hunting and patrols, but we should be fine, with the deer herd the Omegas caught out yesterday.”

“Taking him out to the territory so soon? Is that really wise, Toris?” one of the elders muttered. Alfred’s soft tread froze at the threshold of the infirmary.

I don’t think he should train with the others. What if he disgraces himself, and Berwald in turn? 

No one else would have stepped up to train him. Berwald doing it himself is…isn’t it a waste of his time? He’s not taken a fledgling on for cycles and cycles.

“Alfred?” Toris’s voice snapped him back from his memories, and to his surprise, he had seen the Alpha behind the half-open lichen curtain. His eyes were less harsh than the Alpha was expecting. “Are you recovered enough? I understand your injuries from captivity were quite harsh, so if you would like me to go over something else first-”

“No, I’m fine,” Alfred said quickly. He did his best to pair it with a smile, as he was acutely aware of the elder watching him with narrowed eyes. As tired as his limbs felt, and the fact that he still wore numerous cuts and bruises, backing down was the wrong choice. If Toris really wanted to, he could have immediately pulled him into more physically strenuous tasks, such as climbing trees or combat. Walking around the Sept’s territory was a light duty already. “Thanks.”

Surely, with even one misstep, one sentence that would make him seem reluctant to integrate…the Sept would think of him as an outsider that would never fit in. Alfred could already see the elder next to Toris sizing him up with his eyes.

“All right, then.”

Alfred wracked his brain for a suggestion, something that would make him seem helpful.

“Do you need help for the morning meal?”

The deputy shook his head. “The rotation’s been planned out for the next half moon. We’ll work you in there, with the other fledglings if we need to. Just sit down with the others for now.”

He returned back to the elder, but Alfred was already gone, not wanting to hear, in case the elder’s harsh words pulled him back to his old tribe.

Toris began Alfred’s training just after the morning meal, something the Alpha wasn’t anticipating - he’d expected the deputy to work him from dawn to dusk.

Even the morning meal itself had gone better than the Alpha had dared hope for. He was allowed to sit next to Arthur, had only been the recipient of a few curious glances instead of the glares he’d expected, and even had been able to pick out the fact that he ate faster than most of the Sept and course correct before it was too late. The meal was vegetable soup with chunks of deer, different from the rabbit that Alfred was used to eating in the Clan, but the taste only brought back fond memories of the catches he and Arthur had shared in the cave.

They’d only had a very brief amount of time to rendezvous, knowing to be discreet during the meal - after all, their love was their own to keep. Thankfully, Francis seemed to have been truly asleep, as he behaved normally. Their session that morning had been spontaneous, of course, but there was plenty good in that. 

“Gotta go now,” Alfred stopped by the medicine den to say goodbye to Arthur, who had been tasked by Francis that morning to organise his things. After all, no longer being a healer meant that he had to move back to the Omega’s den, or a den reserved for mated pairs - at least, that was what Alfred guessed would happen. “Take care, okay? Sorry I can’t help out.”

“I’ll be all right.”

“With all that stuff, it would be a lot easier for me to lift it around, huh?”

Arthur placed a hand on his forearm for a moment, snorting. “You need to rest, after everything that’s happened. If you’re feeling tired, let Toris know, all right? He’ll - given that it’s just the two of you, you can ask. Especially after…” Arthur squirmed, abruptly adjusting the edge of his tunic with his spare hand. “You know.”

“Yeah, I do,” Alfred said, his voice husky, then he leaned down to kiss the middle of his Omega’s claiming bite, letting his lips linger, leaving a wet mark. “I’ll see you at the evening meal.”

Arthur had to take a moment to gather himself before he spoke. “Don’t get into any unnecessary trouble,” he ran his fingers a hair above Alfred’s claiming scar, garnering a shudder from the Alpha. “I mean it.”

Alfred lingered until he saw his Omega return to the medicine den, then followed Toris out of the camp. But as he reached the entrance, he couldn’t help but pause. The same tightening feeling in his chest had returned, his body catching up with his mind, understanding that he was leaving his mate for the first time since their bonding. He felt sick to his stomach, and couldn’t resist looking back at the medicine den, trying to find Arthur’s gaze. 

“You’ll have to get used to it,” Toris said, snapping Alfred’s attention back to the deputy. He could feel a few pairs of eyes on him, and hurriedly went to catch up. “I appreciate the sacrifice you’ve made to be with him, but I’ll need you to start thinking like a Sept member from the first day. Not just his mate.”

“O-Okay. Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m sorry.” Alfred tugged his furs tighter around his broad shoulders. How did he know how it felt? He’s not mated… “Usually, uh, we bring some weapons with us, right?”

“Dietrich doesn’t want you armed until after an evaluation, but I’m prepared for a fight, if the Clan decides to break the winter truce.”

Alfred winced. “Maybe if they see me, they will.”

Toris stopped just around halfway of the trees that flanked the Sept entrance, and nudged away the loosely planted bushes. “We’ll take an alternate exit today,” he said. The deputy didn’t acknowledge Alfred’s comment and he wasn’t sure why, but he guessed it was for a good reason. “The main exit usually leads to the clearing where we have our Gathering every moon, and our border with the Clan. I think you’re more familiar with these spots than the left side of our territory, so we’ll start here.”

He reached into his pouch for a small knife, pressing the sharp end into a distinct groove of a thick branch, gesturing for Alfred to follow into a sparsely lit tunnel made out of wood that made his ribcage feel like contracting. Grass frolicking in the wind, water echoing around his ankles as he tried to catch fish in the summer…nothing like this.

Alfred noticed small nicks in the sides of the walls and ceiling, but only the ceiling provided any sort of relief in the form of the sunlight streaming downwards.

“What’s these things on the sides of the walls?”

“In every season except winter, they’re reserved for Alphas to put some kind of lights in. But since it’s winter, firestarters are precious, and so these side tunnels are used only in daylight. Come on.”

Alfred hesitated, despite himself. The wide open moors that poured into rivers and kept clouds close were so unlike the coating thickness of the forests. If something fell on the logs, or if they got lost…

“Generations of Sept members have used these tunnels,” Toris nudged him, though it was not harsh. “Alfred, I can smell your fear, but you will have to get used to them eventually. Is it different in your old tribe?”

The Alpha wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at, but as soon as he let go of the branch and followed Toris into the tunnels, he decided to talk - force himself to talk, even. 

“Uh, yeah. We sleep in big, hollowed out caves, sometimes a hut or two, outside. Sometimes even a few of us sleep outside, if we want to. But the entrance isn’t like this, it’s more…open, I guess. It’s hard to describe, but you just have the guarded entrance, and that’s it.”

It was difficult to see Toris’s reaction in the low light, but Alfred did not see disgust in the deputy’s eyes, rather, intrigue.

“Did you like sleeping outside?”

“Nope. Heh. It’s…kinda cold, and I’m not good with the cold at all. At least they didn’t punish me by making me sleep outside. I was threatened a few times, when I misbehaved as a fledgling, but yeah.”

“Your sire must have protected you, as the leader,” Toris said. 

Alfred pressed his lips together before he spoke. “Maybe. But I don’t know, either. He was my mentor, and he wasn’t particularly indulgent, I don’t think. But just having the leader as my sire doesn’t protect me from everything.”

“I suppose not, with the seconds. And how you were treated.” 

Alfred turned his head slightly, and saw the deputy’s gaze ghost over him. 

“Earlier, when I said I appreciated - recognised, I suppose - your sacrifice, I sincerely meant it. I’m unsure if the Sept is aware of the extent of your injuries, but you’ve clearly been through a lot these few days. Not to mention ever since-” Toris’s light voice stopped abruptly, and as Alfred looked at his side, he noticed the deputy had stopped walking. “Ever since the battle at the glade-”

“Oh, uh. Toris - really, it’s fine-”

The other Alpha shook his head, and now in the tunnel, Alfred could smell distress coming from him, souring in his nose. Toris was not looking at him. 

“I should have known. Or at least, I should have understood, seeing you coming outside to face me. I should have argued for a fairer fight.”

“They were giving away the glade for the winter to humiliate me,” Alfred said. His words came out quietly. Alfred had deliberately softened them, wanting to hide the truth that would surely hurt, but to his own surprise, it hurt less than he had expected it to. “I don’t blame you. You were doing your duty as a Sept member.”

Toris still looked troubled as they all too quickly approached the end of the tunnel.

“That passed faster than I expected it would,” Alfred tried to keep the tone light as he blinked a few times, trying to readjust to their surroundings. Gone were the towering, protective trees that ringed around the camp; the tunnel had opened up to a spacious clearing, flanked by more bushes as they emerged. There was a smidgen of water just beyond a few trees, probably the river that ran near the Sept camp from what he remembered from Arthur’s stories. Foliage provided some shade, but the amount of trees were nowhere near the amount in the camp. Alfred looked up at the sky, already much wider, and took another deep breath, relishing the sharp coldness for once.

“Admittedly, I was trying to calm your worries by distracting you, but I think you’ve done it for me instead.” Toris’s words were caught between a laugh and a sigh. “If you’d not mind too much, we can talk about it later. I’m sure you’re eager to see the territory.”

“Y-Yeah, sure. So…where is this?”

“It’s the training area, where most of the fledglings, Alpha and Omega, learn different types of combat. They also learn climbing and water-based combat,” Toris gestured to the river. “Their last session takes place here, when I or Dietrich along with their mentor see if they are ready to become full-fledged.”

Alfred followed Toris around the equipment. There were a few structures placed all over the clearing meant to emulate an enemy, their wooden frames wearing cuts and scrapes from weapons and fists. He recognised the familiar mark of a sword in torn fabric lying loose over the frame. Farther along was a completely empty clearing that bore scuff marks and indents. 

“Here’s where we practise with each other, separated by our natures. Usually, we wait at least a moon to allow them to participate in combat with one another.”

“I’m gonna be tussling with you full-fledged guys, right?” Alfred grinned as he said it, despite himself, and he couldn’t help but relax when Toris cracked a small smile.

“You’ll be given a preliminary assessment first, but eventually that’s the plan. You’ve got to learn to fight in the ways of the Sept alongside your previous training.”

Part of Alfred wanted to start now, but the rest of him remembered the last time he’d fought the deputy, so he quickly moved on.

As the sun started to readily inch back up the sky, the two Alphas made their way across the leftmost part of the Sept territory. Ghost fish seemed to follow their every move as they walked near the river, and as much as Alfred paid attention to what Toris was saying, about which corners and twists led to one of the most frequented hunting paths the Omegas took, he couldn’t help but glance from time to time at the water. Back in the Clan, most of the time, he hadn't been allowed out of camp as much as he’d have liked, by way of conveniently not being selected to join patrols or battle parties - the first was his fateful trip to the glade. Even the way water flowed in Sept territory felt different than in Clan territory. Were the creatures of the forest watching him, like the rest of his new tribe?

The trees, at least, were far more formidable than the wiry ones that dotted the plains back…back in the other tribe. Even in his own thoughts, Alfred needed to correct himself - Arthur and the Sept were home now, not the Clan. Instead of their branches lazily stretching back, like bony fingers tapering back into the air, the thick trunks and towering fronds seemed to loom over the two Alphas as they walked past, continuing on their journey. Occasionally, Alfred saw a smear of green against the trunks of the trees they walked by, sometimes a few stones - but he wasn’t sure what they were, and would rather listen to Toris first before asking.

“The make of our territory is another reason why we spend most of it within the camp. Fledglings, and those less familiar with certain areas of the territory will get lost easier, with less hours of natural daylight,” Toris answered Alfred’s unspoken question when the Alpha tilted his head towards him. 

“There’s parts Alphas don’t go, right?”

“Not typically, no. It’s not forbidden, but may the gods protect an Alpha whose presence disrupts an Omega hunting party.”

Alfred thought about how fierce Arthur had been when they’d first met and he himself was being a jerk, as well as the duel between him and Feliks, and shuddered. “Y-Yeah.”

“On that note, do you want to sit for awhile? I think we-” Toris squinted at the sun, “might be a bit late for the afternoon meal, so I want you to save your strength, given that it’s cold today.”

Alfred didn’t complain, and so the two men slowed their pace.

Gone were the lighter smells of the moors, the hay and the free galloping of horses replaced by birds and slow-moving deer. Alfred could taste very, very faint hints of blackberry as they walked past pale thickets, a wetter grass as he stepped through a frost-touched patch of grass releasing them from the ice. He could tell where some of the hints of Arthur’s scent came from, and might have been partly, if not entirely the reason why when Toris asked for a break, he found himself a spot beside some wild rose bushes. Given that it was the winter, there were only a few buds that swayed slightly when Alfred moved to sit beside them, but no snow nor frost blanketed their petals.

Toris adjusted his furs tighter around his slender shoulders, then tucked his legs inwards to his body. Alfred did the same.

“What do you think about the territory so far?”

“It’s big. Maybe bigger than the Clan’s, I think. Where does it-” Alfred swivelled around on the stump he’d picked out, “where does it end?”

“We’re quite close to the end, actually.” Toris leaned to the side, nudging his chin forward, the bit of brown hair tied in a braid falling past his ears. “The tallest oak there, by the river, marks the leftmost border. You can see it marked out with the green dye we use.”

“Actually, I was gonna ask you about that, but I didn’t…I dunno. I just wanted to absorb all the information.”

“That’s all right,” Toris said. Somehow, Alfred was still expecting for the deputy to be…not as nice, but that still hadn’t happened. “It’s a lot to take in, but now you know. The markings were refreshed a quarter moon ago, so I didn’t take any for you to try, but in the future, it’ll be part of your duties. Have you done something like that before in the Clan?”

Alfred nodded. “We made powder from walnut shells. I’m guessing the dye here’s made from leaves?”

“Close, they’re pine needles. That’s part of our Alpha duties as well.”

“I was pretty good at it, back in the Clan,” Alfred said. Maybe it was fine to boast a little. “I’m one of the strongest Alphas - well, was.”

Toris’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Ah, okay,” he said. “Actually, is that why you didn’t fight much, in your old tribe?”

“Huh?”

The deputy shifted to face Alfred. “See, there are some Alphas in our Sept who prefer to work inside the camp more,” he elaborated. “They prefer cooking, repairing dens and so on, rather than patrolling and fighting. We usually have a rotation for these duties, and so…I was wondering if that was something of your choice.”

“No.” The answer was out of his mouth before Alfred really had to think about it. “I didn’t - no. Patrols back at home are called up based on who wants to do them together, so. I didn’t get picked much. I mostly went on patrol with my sire. I mean. Berwald.”

The Alpha knew his face was scrunching, the muscles tensing knowing that this was something he would be much harder pressed to give up than his old tribe. His old tribe had wronged him, yes, but his sire had done all he could. Matthew too, and Tino…

Obviously, Toris had seen. Alfred had to turn away. Surely this sort of thing would be reported straight to Dietrich, that Alfred still had doubts.

Yet when the deputy spoke, it was different. 

“That’s all right,” Toris said, voice clear of any sort of condemnation. Alfred took a deep breath, unable to help scenting his fellow Alpha. Even the cold air of the winter wouldn’t be able to hide the sour reek of scorn, and yet there was nothing alarming.

“I’m sure Arthur’s told you this, but our camp was hit very hard with a bout of frostlung a few cycles back, the same as your old tribe.” At Alfred’s solemn nod, he continued. “I lost people, too. People I cared for.” His face had taken on a faraway glaze. “In the days before I became a deputy, I knew that if I didn’t bury myself in work and serve my tribe, I would do nothing but mourn. I understand how devastating it is, losing your family, leaving them behind.”

“I…I can let go of my - the Clan. After what they did to me.” Alfred felt much safer admitting this in the company of just Toris, with the early winter blanketing their words. “Just…I know, from my half-brother, that my family did all they could to protect me. I’m sure that without my sire, I’d be dead. And my half-brother was the one that gave us his direwolf so we could get away. My foster-bearer almost got into a fight trying to help me.”

Toris dipped his head. “At least, you can live with the knowledge that you were loved.”

“I’ll do my best for the Sept. Always.” Alfred tugged his furs tighter around his broad shoulders, moving back to meet the deputy’s gaze. "Arthur gave me my life back, and then I gave my promise to Dietrich. I want to be part of the tribe. But I can’t pretend I was never my sire’s son. That’s kind of what I’m struggling with.”

Weak sun rays touched against the tips of the trees as the deputy spoke. 

“Loyalties are never as simple as our borders. After all, you’re not the first Alpha, let alone person, to stray. Our tribes have been around for generations and generations, and so…yes. It is in our nature as humans to look across the borders.”

“I guess that’s what Gatherings are for, right? I mean, I’ve never been picked. To go.”

Toris’s eyes widened slightly. “You’ve not been?”

Alfred could only shake his head no. He didn’t want to elaborate on the fact that one of Berwald’s seconds always picked the Alphas and Omegas that were going, and had never chosen him. Given that they had been sitting for awhile, despite the tall trees protecting them from quite a bit of the cold, it was still good to move around.

“Oh. Your meeting with Arthur that day really was - I thought that you’d met earlier, somehow-”

“It really was after our duel in the glade, yeah. That we met.”

Alfred was expecting for Toris to push the point, given that he’d been thinking about it as early as the tunnel leading out of the camp, but he didn’t. 

“The purpose of the Gathering is to maintain peace whenever possible. It is the only safe bridge between our tribes, and the easiest reminder that despite all our differences, we can come to understandings to protect our way of living. It’s why…” Toris hesitated before he spoke, “it’s why we bring even fledglings along, so they can learn that if a tribe cannot keep even a night of peace for dialogue and understanding, they are no better than wanderers.”

The first thought that popped into Alfred’s head was the way he’d reacted to Arthur finding him in the cave, yet there was something in the way Toris had spoken that made him push past that memory, something deeper, more buried in his words.

“Did something happen, when you were a fledgling?”

Toris closed his eyes for a moment, as if he wanted to take in the cool winter air. “I suppose you could say that,” he said, exhaling, white smoke billowing in his breath. “My first Gathering, I was terrified. My closest friend, Eduard, wasn’t there that night, so I spent most of it underneath the closest rock to my mentor, fiddling with my tunic. Then someone tapped me on the shoulder - someone else from another Clan. An Omega, to boot.”

Oh, shit, Alfred thought to himself. It was then that he realised that he was not the only person between the two of them to benefit from a one to one chat in one of the farthest reaches of their territory. 

“What did he want?”

Toris sighed. “He wanted to duel me.”

Alfred had to at least somewhat pause at that - an Omega, wanting to duel an Alpha he’d just met, at a supposedly peace-promoting event? He told Toris that little.

“Somehow, I don’t think he knew how to communicate with me, and in the Sept, all fledglings, Alpha or Omega or even Beta, are taught some form of combat at the start of their training.”

“It’s the same for the Clan, yeah.”

“Right. But then I relented, and so we fought until our mentors came to put a stop to us. We did it the next Gathering, then the next. Before long, we’d meet along the riverbank so that the water would hide our scent, at night, then play like that.” 

Alfred guessed there were quite a few details that Toris was leaving out, but didn’t really want to prod him for more details, especially because of the fact that the deputy hadn’t asked for specific details about his relationship with Arthur. Still, the fact that he and his friend had structured part of their time around the water like he and Arthur had to disguise their scent made Alfred understand even more now why the deputy was choosing to tell him this.

“So then, what happened?”

“We met quite a bit. Learned a lot from each other, then, as some friendships do…it ended.”

“It ended?” Alfred said, then he heard his own surprise, stark in the frost filled air. “I mean, uh, my bad.”

When Toris merely gave him a nod, without any outward signs of anger, he decided to continue with the most obvious question.

“Who was he?”

One of Toris’s slender hands moved from underneath his furs to rub at the side of his nose before he spoke. 

“His name was Feliks.”

“You mean-” Alfred sucked in a breath. If he were to say anything that didn’t upset the deputy, he would need to take a moment to formulate a response, but at the end, all he came up with was: “Feliks was your…friend?”

The words seemed practically otherworldly in his mouth, given that said Omega had been actively trying to kill his mate, and probably him, only a few sunrises ago, but he didn’t question it further.

Toris lowered his head. “Yes, let’s call him that, to keep things simple. When we were still in training. Only then. The last time we met was when we’d just become fully-fledged. At the Gathering. I don’t think I remember much of it. Then frostlung happened, then…I was chosen to become deputy.”

“Then you never let your heart stray away from the Sept again.”

The deputy offered him a wry smile. “It's not exactly…I never had feelings for Feliks as intense as you and Arthur have for each other. Nothing like that. Even before I became deputy, I would never have left to join the Clan for him. But I understand what it feels like, even for a moment, to look outside your own borders.”

“Toris…I owe you,” Alfred blurted. He was more than happy to discard his Alpha pride to admit it outright. 

“Owe me?”

“I don’t - I don't think the others would have accepted me as quickly as they did without you looking out for me. You know how wary they were at the start.”

Toris bent forward, adjusting the buckle on his sheath before responding. “You proved your own worth. You didn’t throw away your chance.”

“Wouldn’t have one without you. I just…I don’t know.” Alfred exhaled, running his hands through his hair, the golden shade muted underneath the winter trees, the stripped back canopy of the forest. “There’s gotta be some way I can pay you back.”

Toris’s smile matched his earlier smile in warmth - at least, that was what Alfred felt. 

“Not at all, Alfred. You are a good man. The only repayment I want is your loyalty to the Sept.”

“That’s asking barely anything. I’ll prove myself, under your guidance. But I, uh…I also want to be friends with you. If that’s fine.”

“I’d like to,” Toris said. “I want to. But after the duel, I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to.”

Alfred shifted his weight from side to side, feeling self-conscious. He hoped the deputy could understand he held no ill will.

“That day, if what had happened hadn’t taken place, I would have never had the chance to meet Arthur, become mates with him. And I know that living with the Sept will bring its own challenges, but I want to overcome them, not just because of him, but because I think that your support will give me a fighting chance here. Back in the Clan, I felt like I was stuck in the same place, unable to move anywhere.”

Toris’s scent carried his sympathy to Alfred, and despite himself, the Alpha didn’t resent it. 

“I - I know that people don’t like me, don’t trust me, but if someone as respected as you can give me a chance, I think the others will too.”

“You deserve a chance. And if it redeems that day for the gods, for you, then…” Toris nodded once, full of conviction. “I’ll be glad to give that to you.”

Alfred shared his nod, then shifted his hand outside of the thick layer he was wearing over his broad shoulders, the fabric brushing against the free space of his neck where he would never wear his old tribal beads again. He held out his hand.

Toris took it, and as the orange began to streak across the thick winter sky, the two Alphas shook hands.

Chapter Text

The only major shift in Arthur’s new daily life happened that afternoon, when he returned from his solo hunting trip.

A half moon had passed since Alfred’s initiation into the Sept - a most peaceful half moon. Every day after the morning meal, when Toris took Alfred out for training or duties, Arthur would always watch a patrol of four or five Alphas follow hot on their heels. Dietrich and Toris, while as grateful for the tentative peace between the two tribes as the rest of the Sept, were still concerned about the lack of presence on their borders after what happened with Alfred and Arthur, and focused the sparse winter patrols there. 

That, combined with the sheer effort Alfred put in day after day, had helped the Sept warm to him, even amidst the freezing clutches of the season.

Toris, first of all, was crucial to people beginning to accept Alfred. Arthur knew it. Even if the deputy felt he was repaying his debt to Alfred, the two of them seemed to have worked it out between them, and they had struck up a genuine friendship already. The deputy’s guidance guaranteed Alfred would be kept loyal in the eyes of the Sept, and the two of them eating together and getting along was a personal iron brand of approval from Toris. 

The first quarter moon had worried the two of them the most. Alfred was rarely seen in camp, being trained from after the morning meal to dusk by Toris, returning only for tribe meals. Starting out, Arthur had watched the deputy and his mate for signs that Toris was overworking him, but if anything, the added purpose made it seem as if Alfred had not been held in the Clan camp and mistreated for a quarter moon. After that, once Alfred had fully healed, Toris integrated his training with the other Alphas, making sure that Alfred could try to form connections with others that were not him and Arthur - but it did not seem to be working, until after one afternoon meal, one of the fledglings came up to Alfred.

“What’s it like training with the deputy?” she chirped, giving Alfred’s shoulder a tentative poke. Alfred turned around, his surprise catching the light as he noticed the fledgling.

“You’re asking me?” he said, pushing back a lock of his hair as he bent down to speak to her. 

“Well yeah, who else is Toris training right now?” she giggled, folding her arms as Alfred smiled along with her. “If I was born a few moons later, maybe he’d be training me instead, so. I want to know!”

“I mean, if your bearer’s okay with me talking to you…”

“He’s fine with it,” she said, gesturing behind her with her thumb at her bearer, who out of the corner of Arthur’s eye, gave the pair a wave. “Now c’mon, the others want to hear, too!”

She grabbed onto Alfred’s hand, pulling him along, and Alfred was only able to exchange a half-resigned, half-happy glance with Arthur before he went along with her to the fledglings’ den, leaving Arthur to go hunting alone. When Arthur had asked Francis about it later that night, his best friend had told him that it had gone well, and no parent had dragged their fledgling child away from Alfred in disdain. 

The focus the Sept had placed on training Alfred had come at some cost to Arthur’s position in the tribe, but that was to be expected. Toris reported back to Dietrich on Alfred’s progress every day, but the leader had not given Arthur any orders other than to stay away from the medicine den until it was time to turn in for the night. Arthur knew he would be in trouble if he lazed around the camp while his newfound mate worked hard, and he did not want to subject himself to the full-blown reactions from his Alpha septmates just yet, so he hunted once a day, alone, giving notice to Dietrich, who had taken over some of Toris’s duties while he trained Alfred. Dietrich, for his part, had approved all of his hunts and not subjected him to further discipline, which Arthur took as a very good sign.

Yet it could not last forever. The first day marking the half moon since Alfred had entered the Sept, Arthur was summoned to a meeting with his fellow Omegas and Dietrich. 

“Dietrich, here’s the thing. Solo hunting is much more different than hunting in a patrol.” Arthur recognised the voice; she was the same Omega who had invited him to hunt together awhile ago. “So as much as we would like to try to work Arthur into a rotation, we’d need to see if he can work with us in a group format, after all.”

“It might not be a good idea, given that he’s just mated with a, well-” one of the other Omegas trailed off. “A…new Sept member. It’s just that the idea of his new status will need some time for the other Omegas to process, and we might not all be comfortable trusting him to hunt alongside us.”

“I see,” the leader said. One of his hands came to briefly rub at his chin in thought. Arthur stared down at his shoes, not sure what else to do.

“It’s nothing personal,” the same Omega continued. “It’s just…things have changed, and it might take awhile.”

“We’ll try it out during the spring, at the very least. I think that’s fair.”

“Yes,” another Omega chipped in, “and the prey will be running better, meaning there’s more opportunities. We’re well fed for now, but every piece matters in the winter.”

“I agree…”

Yet out of the crowd, there were some Omegas that were notably silent, some even visibly turning away from Arthur. A hard lump formed at the bottom of his stomach, one that herbs could not cure, the crevice of a flame by the hard flint of his septmates’ lukewarm reception.

“Dietrich, if you don’t mind me speaking-”

“Of course not.”

“I understand that you must discipline Arthur for what he has done, but why not allow him to only resume his healer work, and bar him from hunting? He has received good training under Francis and Francis’s mentor, and what if- what if a grand sickness sweeps through the camp?”

Dietrich bent his head slightly to acknowledge the Omega’s words. “If frostlung, or something similar, were to do so, I would not put the wellbeing of my tribe over his demotion,” he said, and the Omega audience visibly relaxed at those words, Arthur included. “I understand that when a Beta is born, they still need to undergo training to become a full-fledged healer. However, we are well fed and warm going into this winter, as you said, along with the truce we have brokered with the Clan, which despite the circumstances, is still holding. Arthur being allowed to train in the path of a Beta was a privilege I had afforded him, but now he has gone against Sept laws, I have revoked that privilege.”

The Omega who had asked dipped his head, retreating back slightly into the crowd. “I see.”

“There’s an Omega sunrises away from giving birth up there, in the nursery,” someone else interjected, speaking for Arthur what he daren’t voice. “Chances are we’re well overdue for a Beta birth.”

“...yeah, this could be it…”

“And Francis is young and strong, with many cycles of the moon left.”

Dietrich’s ice blue gaze swept over the group.

“And thus, I hope you can all understand why I made my decision.”

Mumblings swept around the group of Omegas, but it seemed as if they were mostly satisfied with their leader’s answer. They started to peel away, returning to their various duties. Now that hunting patrols had almost halved, customary for the winter, many Omegas took up various Alpha duties, such as harvesting material and wood and meal preparation. Many of those who had mates were allowed to work alongside them, making the duties even more popular.

Arthur, on the other hand, could only watch as the group dispersed. The first Omega who had spoken up for him shot him a sympathetic look, but he could only smile weakly as she left, leaving him underneath the rock shelf with Dietrich.

“For now,” the leader said, turning to face him, “you will continue to hunt by yourself. Small game may be less sparse than large game during the season, but I need you to contribute.”

“But some Omegas sometimes help Francis with-”

“No, Arthur,” Dietrich said sternly. “What I discussed with the other Omegas is a very desperate situation, in which not temporarily allowing you to perform your previous duties would mean life or death. You have lost the privileges of being a healer, and you must bear the consequences of your actions. I will allow you to complete some of the Alpha duties in line with the rest of our Sept now it is winter, but the medicine den is off limits, unless I change my mind in the far future.” The tone of his words suggested a very far future, but Arthur knew when to hold his tongue, as badly as he wanted to speak up.

Arthur had to steer the conversation back from the painful topic. “As with the situation of the hunting parties…”

“Your fellow Omegas are right.” Dietrich looked outwards towards the camp as he spoke. “Of course, I don’t know it myself, but I believe them. The current season is a waste for a skilled solo hunter to learn how to hunt in a group, and I would rather allow fledglings to learn first. And of course, you are still welcome to hunt alone, but I am expecting you to join the usual rotation with the other Omegas in the spring.” 

“...So that’s what he called you in for, huh?”

Arthur nodded, his fingernail scratching against the wood of his bowl. Alfred and Toris had returned late from training, and Arthur had decided to delay his own meal by delivering the meals to the elders along with Francis, though he left the yet to be repaired den quickly. There was another reason why he did not want to eat with the elders, who glanced at him with much less of the warmth that he was afforded before his return with Alfred, but there was no point in voicing it. Francis knew, letting him go without a complaint. 

“I suspected as much,” Arthur said, wrapping his hands around his bowl. Alfred had gone to the other Alphas and said that he and Arthur would be cleaning up after themselves, and the Omega had noticed a big smile on his face afterwards - meaning that Alfred was well on his way to feeling better. “He was watching over your training along with Toris, so you bought me some time.”

“Why can’t he just let you keep on hunting by yourself?” Alfred asked, taking a big bite of his meal as he spoke. Now that he was eating far better and working harder than he had been allowed to in the Clan, he had started to bulk up significantly. “You’re still serving your tribe, and that’s what you’ve always done, right?”

Arthur tried to smile, but it came out as a wince, which was probably what he wanted to do in the first place anyway, knowing himself. “In the meeting, Dietrich said I needed to join the usual rotation, like you will. My way of living was a privilege that’s been taken away from me now, so I need to learn to hunt in groups, but he said I could still hunt by myself for the winter.”

“Mm. He just wants you to join in with the others later, right?”

“...yes.”

“Hey,” Alfred said, and Arthur noticed his voice had softened, causing his own heart to quicken in his chest. His Alpha shuffled closer, putting down his spoon to clumsily cradle Arthur’s chin in his large hand. “Hey, that’s not so bad, right? You still get to hunt by yourself, but…you just need to work with the others in a rotation. And sometimes, I dunno, but Matthew told me that sometimes there would be too many people on a hunting patrol, so they’d split off.”

Arthur resisted for a moment, then allowed himself to rest his head briefly on his mate’s hand. “But I suppose your brother ran with his direwolf, and so…”

“The Clan and the Sept share more things than you know. So I think it’ll be fine. You should be eating.”

At that, the two of them continued eating for a few moments, but before long they were talking again. 

“I’ve been thinking of him,” Alfred admitted. “About my sire and foster-bearer too. That’s it.”

“They’re still your family, despite everything,” Arthur said, nudging Alfred's knee with his own. “And you’re still keeping Berwald’s bead.”

“My head’s been out of the Clan. I mean, heh, Toris doesn’t give me much chance to think about anything else, but I’m happy this way. But I’m not thinking about it…”

“Don’t worry, I know you’re focused on serving our tribe now. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Alfred cleaned out his bowl, then placed it on the oak table. It looked small and lonely in comparison to the yawning length of the table. “There’s…it’s all stuff you’ve heard before.”

“I still want to hear what you’re thinking.”

“...okay. But you gotta eat while I talk, yeah? I know it’s a bit of a warmer day, but…yeah. You know.”

Your speech is awfully awkward as always, Arthur couldn’t help but think, the corners of his lips tugging upwards despite himself. Still, despite being allowed to love each other openly now, two could still play at that game. 

Pushing his bowl away, Arthur’s green eyes glinted in the sun as he looked back at his mate, who grinned in turn. Using one hand to put it back in Arthur’s hands, Alfred took Arthur’s spoon and pouted.

“I can feed you.”

“I’m a grown man, thank you.” That’s not enough.

“Hmm…” Alfred pushed his finger up against his stuck out bottom lip, “maybe I’ll eat it first, then give the food to you by mouth?”

“Oh, that’s disgusting,” Arthur snorted, batting him away. “Do you want me to eat it?”

“Yeah, but it’s not gross! And I guess you’ll say we’ve done more gross things together.”

“It is. And we have,” Arthur’s retort was swift, yet he felt his cheeks heating up at the thought of their…carnal activities. Since that early morning in the infirmary, Alfred had been so tired that the two of them had saved their energy just for talking, and didn’t have the strength for anything else. 

“It’s not gross, it’s love. Okay, I’ll give you a kiss after each bite?”

“...hmm. A tempting offer.”

“Now you’re just messing with me,” Alfred pouted again, before he pulled Arthur to him, giving him a passionate kiss, taking the Omega off-guard. “There. Now when you finish, I’ll give them all to you before I go back to train with Toris.”

“Insufferable flirt,” Arthur mumbled under his breath as he started to eat.

“Stubborn jerk,” Alfred teased right back. 

His smile came so easily it took Arthur’s breath away.

By the time the evening of the Gathering rolled around, light whispers and rumours had already permeated the camp as they usually did. Customary with the winter, there were less fledglings allowed to go, resulting in the buzz of disappointed fledglings around the few who were going.

One of the Omegas had recently given birth, nature unknown, forcing Francis to remain in the camp for now. Dietrich had sucked at his teeth when Arthur asked, but since the other tribe did not know Arthur had been demoted from his position, he was allowed to come to the Gathering. 

Still, as Arthur had received his permission, he was certain of one thing - Alfred would not be allowed to go.

They managed to get a moment alone in Arthur’s old quarters that evening, still their makeshift den as many of the living areas in the Sept camp still needed to be repaired. If Arthur were still allowed to do his duties as a healer, his mate would have been allowed to stay, but as it stood, they would move to a mated pair’s den whenever there was enough time for the Alphas to repair the existing ones.

Alfred gave a shrug, doing his best to seem unbothered when Arthur asked him about it.

“I asked, but he said it wasn’t a good idea. When you were out hunting solo earlier today - but it’s okay. I guessed as much.”

“It’s not that they doubt your loyalty,” Arthur said, slender fingers flicking the feather of an arrow - he’d still not packed away his things, since he’d asked right after his hunting trip. “Your family may be well behaved, but the other Clan members, I doubt they will be.”

“The Gathering’s not meant to be a time or place to fight, but I guess you have a point. Just seeing me’s gonna be a bad thing, giving that defecting to the other tribe might just be the worst thing other than being Clanless. But hey…it can’t get any worse than it already has for them, right? Me?”

“Mated with a Sept Omega, has become a diligent Alpha, is close friends with the renowned Sept deputy…” Arthur said out loud, briefly in thought. “Hm. I suppose it couldn’t get much worse. Though I’m not sure you really planned for the last one.”

Leaning back, Alfred tilted his chin to the emerging winter stars. “No. But I’m glad. I thought I’d have to burden you by sticking to you constantly.”

The Omega looked at him, making sure he wasn’t watching, then let his own shoulders slacken, pressing into him. His bow shifted in his lap. “Is that truly a terrible fate?”

“Oh, uh, not for me, but for you, maybe.”

He was interrupted with a swat to his nose by the feathery end of Arthur’s arrow. “Ow!”

“You always say whatever nonsense you want,” Arthur huffed, tickling the tip of Alfred’s nose again with the arrow. “It’s a feather - but regardless. No. I was just worried we’d become too dependent on each other.”

“Nope. If I could get my food, drink, clothes, and whatever else from you…” Alfred pushed his body away from the rock, laying it gently against Arthur’s, “then I’d be the happiest man, ever.”

“You’d drink me dry before I’d have a chance to stop you.”

The Alpha’s blue eyes were filled with the softness of teasing as Arthur removed his bow and sheath from his lap, allowing him to rest on top of the Omega.

“As you said before…is that truly a terrible fate?”

“You don’t have to- you don’t have to imitate my way of speaking, idiot,” Arthur hissed. He felt a dull, dense prickle at the base of his spine at the way his cheeks were heating up, how Alfred was slowly laying himself on top of his abruptly heated body, closer and closer with every moment. It took all of his brain to even process how his mate was flirting with him, he knew his tongue was less sharp than usual, but with Alfred’s body heat warming his limbs he could not seem to care-

“Don’t- You big oaf-”

Alfred’s mouth was already on his, his hands scavenging and hungry, reaching for any part of Arthur his Omega was willing to give him. 

“The patrol-” Arthur tried to say, though he knew his body would not respond to it, especially with the warmth of his mate cocooned around him, “we’re - they’re - about to leave!”

“I won’t get to see you again tonight…maybe if I try to stay up…” Alfred’s hands lingered on his waist. 

“You’ll do no such thing,” Arthur sighed between kisses. He should be going, but the hecticness of the last half moon had made him want nothing more. Being without one another just felt wrong. “It’s gotten much colder now, and Toris will want you to do your fair share in reinforcing the dens tomorrow morning.”

Alfred nodded. From the droop in his eyelids, even as he looked up at Arthur, the Omega could tell that the Alpha was already getting tired, but was the stubborn type to not want to admit it. 

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Alfred’s gaze as he spoke, now seeming much more awake, bore into his, and with a jolt, Arthur realised that his mate was scenting his intentions. “You were the one that neglected your sleep in the cave…”

“...I’ll be off,” Arthur could only retort weakly with that. “I’d much rather not give Dietrich another reason to be angry at us. Well, I suppose in this case, me.”

“Let him try,” Alfred said, but he knew to keep it soft and muted in Arthur’s hair, even though the two of them knew it wasn’t serious. The past half moon had been hard work proving and reproving their loyalty to both the Sept and the leader, and anything that risked suggesting otherwise had to be carefully watched. “See you. I’ll put away your gear for you, if you’d like.”

Arthur let his fingers rest on Alfred’s bicep for another moment, nodding once, before ducking underneath the curtain and joining the Gathering patrol.

Strong moonlight filtered through the leaves above the septmates as they walked through the forest. The trees that were their centurions began to fade into the whistling of the cold night as frost-tipped grass petered out into dry grassland. In the night, it would be hard to see the barely dirt path that led to the gathering place were it not for Toris and Dietrich carrying the torches. 

“Just a little bit longer,” Arthur heard one of the Alpha mentors say to her fledgling, accompanied by the rustling of fabric. All of them were thickly wrapped up for tonight, given the plummeting temperatures now winter had extended her grip in the forest.

The walk was proving to be as uneventful as usual, and so Arthur let himself relax a little into his thoughts. Perhaps Alfred would already be asleep now, his honey blond hair curled into Arthur’s furs, laying out like a dried starfish that occasionally washed up on the shared banks between the tribal territories. The two of them had done their best to speak for awhile after their duties, given that their arrangement away from the others was temporary at best and they needed to harness their extra time alone, but Toris had been working Alfred hard, meaning he fell asleep before long most nights. 

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. The bruises and cuts from his ordeal had not fully faded despite the time elapsed - Arthur’s cut from Feliks had not healed entirely, and almost certainly would leave a scar, but that was expected given that he was an Omega. 

Yet still, Alfred had given his all. He couldn’t help but think of the elders - if, despite everything, Alfred could still not win their approval at the end of the day…

“Almost there,” Dietrich’s call pulled the Omega out of his thoughts, and he gave himself a little shake, pulling his furs tighter around himself. 

Feliks. Would he be there? Had Arthur’s attempt at mercy worked? Or had he left him to sear with blind fury until his last haggard breath, his corpse in a grave?

Arthur didn’t shut out those thoughts as light shone above them, signalling they were there. If Feliks were there, and if he were itching for a fight to the point where he’d lash out at Arthur, he’d have to be prepared somehow. No weapons at the Gathering, as per the tribes’ mutually agreed law, but it wasn’t every Gathering that someone showed up after taking their prisoner away to their other tribe to defect, causing a potentially life-threatening wound to escape, then finally, mating with said prisoner. 

Dietrich went up first, digging the reinforced sole of his boot in the hard dirt, making space for his torch. In the night, Berwald’s blue eyes watched him, cloaked by flailing fire, silent. 

“Good evening, Berwald,” Dietrich said. Arthur couldn’t see his expression as the rest of the patrol followed suit.

“Mm. Good evening, Dietrich,” Berwald said. 

The two men dipped their heads. 

“I hope winter is not treating your tribe too harshly.”

“No, we are all right.”

Arthur could barely make out rumblings from the Clan as the two leaders spoke in their usual stoic fashions, doing his best to make his way to the row closest to Dietrich. If it were any two other people, he’d be prepared to scale a tree and watch an Alpha run back to the Sept camp for reinforcements. 

Then it began. One of Berwald’s seconds came to his side, waited until the Clan leader noticed him, then pulled him aside. Dietrich watched wordlessly as they spoke, only moving his head slightly to exchange glances with Toris, using his head to push back some of his long blond hair. The deputy swallowed, but only nodded, retreating to stand next to his leader once more.

“Mm.” Berwald’s voice was quiet, almost as still as the snow, broken only by the sound of his hand moving his massive fur coat to the side.

The second nodded, falling back in line with the other two. Berwald paused to look backwards, taking in the eyes of his Clan, which now fanned out behind him. Arthur squinted, but could not see the neck-long blond hair of Feliks, but he could just about see Toris scan the crowd, a vein in his neck tensing.

“Let us not mince words,” Berwald said. “Do you know anything about the death of an Alpha on your territory?”

Dietrich did not speak, but when he did, the tone betrayed the same amount of confusion Arthur was sure most of the Sept was feeling. “The…death of an Alpha? Has something happened?”

“His name was Moro. Tufty brown hair, brown eyes, recently completed his training and became full-fledged. He disappeared around the advent of the winter.”

Arthur forced his face into the most neutral expression he could think of just in case anyone from the Clan saw him, remembering Francis’s stoic expression training for whenever a particularly gory injury arrived in the medicine den. The secret and circumstance of Moro’s death would die with them. It was good that he had positioned himself just so that the taller figures of his fellow septmates covered him from much of the Clan’s view. 

“Has there been any search for him?” 

“Yes, extensively. But given that winter has set in, it must have cleared any scent tracks, but they all disappeared outside of the border - towards your end of the territory.”

“You should have told us first, so we could have participated in the search,” Dietrich replied, however there was no anger at the accusation, only concern. “During winter, these things must be dealt with quickly. But no, we have not heard anything about this from our patrols. Has any sign been seen of him?”

Berwald shook his head. Arthur was surprised to not hear further accusations being levelled at his leader, but at the same time, he could just about make out the frustrated expressions of the seconds behind the Clan leader - Dietrich’s genuine reaction was not what they had expected, and the confrontation was not going as well as they had hoped. 

“We will keep an eye out for his presence, then.”

“He’s probably dead by now,” someone from the Clan crowd said. A rumbling broke out in both the tribes, trying to identify the perpetrator, but the words had been said already.

“Winter makes it near impossible for a young Alpha to survive alone,” Berwald said, turning back to Dietrich. He did not seem too shaken at the interruption; it was as if he had accepted the fact that his clanmate was dead already.  “But yes, I would appreciate it if you would keep an eye out.”

Dietrich nodded, and the conversation died out. Arthur’s stomach rustled. Was this truly the end of the Gathering? No mention of Alfred?

“It was the traitor that did it,” someone else hissed. The voice seemed strangely familiar, and it took Arthur a moment to identify Feliks shouldering out from the crowd with one arm in a sling, the one he had cut an artery in. Relief, if nothing else, flooded through him - he had not wanted to kill, and another death caused by the Sept to the Clan would make retaliation inevitable. Arthur saw Toris start; almost certainly out of shock to the clear challenge to Berwald’s powerful authority. “Ask them, Berwald!”

“Feliks,” Berwald fixed the Omega with a steely glance, the flicker of the torch lighting the Alpha teetering the edge into annoyance. “There is no proof. Until then, I will not assign the blame to him. But that is not what is important. I must ask - what of Alfred?”

“Of Alfred?” Incredulousness crept into Dietrich’s voice. “Of your bastard son? Surely not even your own tribe has blinded you to what happened last moon.”

At that, the Clan leader stiffened. “Do not imply I have lost control of my tribe, when surely, my…yes. I can tell that Alfred slumbers in your camp tonight.”

“Given that you discarded a strong, competent warrior for nothing more than the blood that runs in his veins, it should come at no surprise to you that we were willing to take him in.”

“Strong, competent warrior…” one of the Alphas near Arthur murmured.

“Does he really think so highly of him?” her mate whispered next to her.

Arthur bit the inside of his cheek. Was this another reason why Dietrich did not want Alfred to come to the Gathering, in fears he would hear himself spoken of so highly, and think that his position in the Sept was secure already? Dietrich had never praised him so openly, and Arthur thought that if he looked around at his fellow Sept members, he’d see an equal amount of astonishment in their faces.

“He may have slain Moro,” Berwald said, but the undercurrent of his voice lacked conviction. “Have you asked him about it?”

“My deputy and I have spoken to him privately about it,” Dietrich said smoothly. “His answer was satisfactory. We would not take in a known murderer.” 

“Do you not doubt his loyalty?” one of Berwald’s seconds demanded.

“Three quarters of a moon is adequate time for him to demonstrate where his loyalties lie now,” Dietrich retorted. “I and the entire Sept have been keeping very close eyes on him. If he was truly disloyal, he would have been exiled by now, having been given multiple opportunities to demonstrate any doubt in his decision.”

“If Dietrich puts it that way…Alfred’s not done any wrong.”

Another Omega whispered, “I guess he’s done well - my sister said he’s willing to work with the others.”

“And what of his training?”

“He is under the intense training of my deputy, who I hold unshaking belief in.”

“Allowing Toris- your deputy to train a traitor,” Feliks spat, giving his one good arm a shake. “Isn’t that a reward, instead of a punishment? Isn’t it a waste of resources during winter?”

Dietrich glared at him at the same time Arthur saw Toris’s chest heave. “I will not let any Clan member govern me nor my deputy on a topic he does not understand.”

“Feliks,” Berwald’s voice was stern. “We are both still under the truce, and you are overstepping your authority. Resume your position.”

The Omega seemed furious, but obeyed his Clan leader all the same.

“You have still housed a bastard from our land, and the brave Omega who duelled his stealer is still incapacitated from the wound. Have they not been punished?” another second spoke up. “The actions of those two men that night could have shattered our truce!”

"In all his time in the Clan, you did not care for him." If Arthur had been in Dietrich’s position, he knew he would have gone into a sneering tirade, but his leader kept his tone neutral. “And it is not your business to dictate how I govern my tribe. But if it helps keep the peace, I will say the member of the Sept has been disciplined accordingly.”

Berwald must have- Feliks must have at least told him, or one of the seconds, that I wasn’t aiming to kill, Arthur realised as the Clan muttered unhappily, but did not move to strike or retaliate. If Feliks said I had tried to murder him, they would be calling for my blood, or at least for me to be handed over to the Clan.

But at the same time…they’re not asking for Alfred back, at all. Arthur lifted himself slightly, just keeping himself in line with the shadows, searching for Berwald’s expression. Alfred’s stormy eyes in the cave when they first met mirrored his sire’s almost perfectly. He must be trying to protect Alfred, but not undermine himself and his Clan.

“Given that it is winter,” Berwald began slowly, “I understand your want to maintain the peace. But sending a tribe member, especially an Omega, to rescue - no, to steal a member of my tribe, is a serious violation of the respect our tribes share. A moon of extra chores and duties will not be enough to drive home how, in practically any other season, they would be treated as a captive.”

Dietrich waited for him to finish speaking, then steeled his jaw. “I understand,” he said. “If you must know, I have punished them by demoting them from their previous role, effective the night I understood what happened in your camp. It is not a punishment I handed out lightly, but it will be sufficient.”

I wouldn’t do that again, even if you let me off with so much as a butterfly on my nose. I would only do something that drastic for Alfred, Arthur thought, curling his toes against the thick fabric of his winter boots. Now the conversation had narrowed, it felt as if the Clan was searching for this wayward Omega, and his own septmates were watching his reactions intensely, their eyes boring into his back like how Arthur watched prey during his hunts. 

Berwald made a jerking gesture with his head that resembled a nod. “What is the reason the Omega trespassed into my camp to break Alfred out of the camp?”

His words ended there, but his eyes communicated everything, in a tight boundary where only the frontmost Sept members, Toris and Dietrich could see. I’m his sire, I want to know. Knowledge for peace. 

Arthur held his breath, not sure what Dietrich would say. On one hand, he could reiterate that it was Sept business, but at the same time, Berwald was making several concessions already to keep the peace. Surrendering relatively harmless knowledge such as this felt obligatory if they were to go without warfare this winter.

Dietrich then spoke. “I am only granting this knowledge to you because he is your son, despite him being a bastard. He is to be mated to a Sept Omega, of their own volition, with my consent. Intertribal relations have existed for as long as our tribes have occupied the forest, and with his defection, I allowed them to do so, to cement the fact that his loyalty to our tribe will never waver.”

A feverish hiss broke out amongst the Clan members.

“The bastard, spreading his blood amongst the other tribe?”

“They can have it if they want!”

“Rewarded, for breaking out and betraying our tribe? To be allowed to mate with an Omega?”

The commotion swelled, coating the dry husks of the trees around the clearing, yet as Arthur watched them, Dietrich and Berwald were unmoving. In fact, a hint of emotion coated the ends of the Clan leader’s eyes, and Arthur swore he took a deep breath, harshened by the cold.

Once the other leader had gathered himself, he turned around to speak to his tribe. “Clanmates,” he said, “it is their business now; their burden. Alfred’s blood will no longer be spread in the Clan. It is no longer our trouble. Leave his blood to them. If anything, there is even less reason to fight for an Alpha who would rather die than return, spreading his blood in his new tribe.”

A thread of fire wrapped itself around Arthur’s throat, burning the inside of his nose as he inhaled its embers, and he would have spoken out had the winds not lashed against his face at that moment, bringing himself back to his senses. Berwald turned back around, and the conflict in his eyes brought clarity. 

That was his objective - the point of the Gathering. Berwald and Dietrich knew the perils of the winter, and wanted to keep peace. But there was also a second aspect to it - Berwald also needed to protect his son, bastard or not. Now the Sept was slowly warming to the Alpha sunrise by sunrise, the biggest threat to his life and existence was still the Clan. If Berwald lessened his Clan’s bloodshed for the other tribe, he was saving Alfred’s life, because if the Clan invaded the Sept’s camp and managed to break in, Arthur was certain many Clan members would not hesitate to dig their blade into his throat and rip. 

Berwald would have to condemn and belittle his son to save his life. Arthur had believed that Alfred’s fierce, unyielding defence of his family was out of misguided loyalty, but the Clan leader had proved Arthur wrong tonight. Him putting Alfred down as someone not worth fighting over, spilling a drop of blood over, would ensure the Clan did not come back to claim their debts in the spring.

Dietrich watched wordlessly, not having to speak. Arthur suspected his leader knew that he had already given the information Berwald wanted to ensure the truce held through the winter, and was not willing to give up more for nothing.

“I…trust you have disciplined the Omega accordingly,” Berwald said, after a few moments of the winter wind whistling around the hollow. “I would demand further, but he caused no death, and I do not think risking our lives in a battle in the winter is worthwhile. But I must warn you, next time any Sept member sets foot in our camp, justified or not, they will be caught and punished under my rules.”

Dietrich nodded. “Of course. The same is said for our tribe.”

By now, the flame of the torches had almost been whisked away, and so the two tribes set out to return for the night. Tensions still simmered, thick as oil, but there would be no gasp of fire, no sparks tonight. There was still tightness in Feliks’s expression, fury in some of the Clan’s faces, and Arthur could feel his fellow septmates shift uneasily, but the Gathering was over. The Clan nearest to the back turned around and left through the trees, and so did the Sept, leaving Arthur to linger until the very end.

Berwald moved to leave, but something stilled his heel. He turned back around, to where the front row and Toris and Dietrich were only now moving away, where Arthur was still standing in the clearing. Those flint blue eyes looked at the Omega, and perhaps the wind carried his scent to him, or the gods had sent him a sign in a dream, because his gaze shifted into recognition.

For confirmation, Arthur used his warmest hand to shift away the fur hood covering his neck, revealing his mating scar for a moment before letting his grip loose. Feliks might have guessed by now that he was the Omega that had mated with Alfred, and of course Matthew would know. Perhaps Alfred’s foster-bearer, the man he had spoken highly of, would know also, but Arthur did not care for the opinions of the other Clan members. 

“I’ll keep him safe,” Arthur said quietly, hoping the whistling breeze would both muffle his words to the Clan, and carry his words to only Alfred’s sire. 

The two men shared a gaze for what felt like the same amount of time needed to erode a river boulder into dust, then Berwald dipped his head. When he raised his chin, gratitude flooded his otherwise still eyes, gratitude Arthur had seen adorn Alfred’s face before. The Clan leader was known to be a man of few unnecessary words, and so Arthur understood everything from that simple gaze.

With that, he turned back to be with his tribe, and Arthur turned back to be with Alfred.

Chapter Text

“I think we’ve- we’ve done enough combat practise these five days,” Toris panted between breaths, leaning forward and placing his dusty hands on his knees. Opposite him, Alfred cautiously put down his blade, his chest heaving rapidly. “Good work.”

Now that Toris had gone through with him the basics of Sept life, made sure that any differences between his old tribe and his new one were sorted out, the two men had quickly pivoted to combat training. As the winter truce seemed to be truly holding, Toris was allowed to fully concentrate on training him. Since the Alpha rotations were set in stone for another half moon or so, Alfred was eager to train to fix his great weakness.

That great weakness. His weakness for Arthur, if it could even be called that, was something he hoped would never go away. 

For the first quarter moon, Toris was very reluctant to go all out, which made sense given that the last time the men had fought one another, Alfred had almost died. He assessed Alfred’s ability first on the training dummies in the hollow they’d gone to on the first day of his pseudo-fledglingship. It took another long afternoon of talking and reassurances for the deputy to pick up his weapon, but in the end, Alfred came away with a good assessment.

“Your strength is…extraordinary,” Toris had said that afternoon. “But you’re severely lacking everywhere else. Is there a reason, or…”

“The other Alphas - none of them wanted to train with me. And by then, I was already too strong for the fledglings, and I wouldn’t want to hurt any of them, so…”

“Ah.” There was nothing else that had to be said. “Well, given that your training remains sound in practically every other aspect - I’ve heard good things from you from the Alphas in camp - I’d like to focus there. If I can get you up to speed, then we’ll try to get you into rotations by the spring. There, Dietrich and I can properly see your progress, how you’ll fit in the tribe.”

Alfred thought about the memory of the nod from his father when he was still a young Alpha, the steady pat on his shoulder, the approving glance, the sheer happiness that had coated his stomach. But this kind of acceptance was different. Maybe…this time, there was a chance he’d settle into a tribe that wanted him, appreciated him. He’d finally belong.

“I think you’re fitting in quite well,” Toris said, as if he could read Alfred’s thoughts on his face. “Maybe the elders will take a while to warm to you, but it’ll happen eventually. It’s not as if defectors are anything new in our tribes’ joint history.”

“I was thinking of helping to fix their den,” Alfred admitted. “Heard some of the Alphas talk about how heavy their insulation has to be…I think one of them had to go to Francis for a pulled muscle?”

“Yes, and the elders said they would be fine with their current den for awhile after that - it’s only a part of the roof that needs fixing. I’ll put you in for the rotation, if you’d like.”

“I’ll try doing it myself. You said I’m strong, right?”

Toris let out a laugh, though he looked nervous. “Yes, but they’re quite heavy pieces. We’ll see.”

They’d not talked about it much since, but Alfred trusted Toris. If- if he could prove himself to the Sept like this, like any other way…

But today, Alfred was exhausted and his mind was still on Toris’s moves that the deputy had shown him, so he left his thoughts there. The two of them gathered up their equipment, putting back on their extra layers as they left the hollow.

“Now, remember what I said about the side slash. You’re heavier than me, but your right arm can hit harder, so don’t copy it exactly. I’d like you to practise-” he paused to let Alfred take the torch as they went into the tunnel, leading into the main entrance of the camp, something Alfred was getting more used to day by day. “I’d like you to practise that move tomorrow, then we can try it out the day after.”

“The day after tomorrow?” Alfred asked. “Why not just do it tomorrow too? I’m not a slow learner, right?”

Toris shook his head, though he was still smiling. “No, not at all. The opposite, really. I’m pushing you very hard and you’re keeping up solidly, but that’s also why I’m postponing it. I’ll give you a day off tomorrow.”

“A day off?” Alfred stopped dead in his tracks. “B-But…”

“You and your mate haven’t had as much time with each other as most mated pairs usually have,” Toris said. “Dietrich and I had a meeting yesterday, and we both agreed that your progress is going better than planned, so he said I should push you a little less. He’s noticed us getting along.”

Alfred couldn’t help but tense at his words. “Does he have a problem with that?”

“No, not at - well, it was kind of my concern. That I’ve been pushing you so hard you might start to resent me, which I’d understand, but…” Toris trailed off, his steps slowing down, and Alfred knew the frown on his own face was probably causing it. “You’re really fine with it? Alfred, you really don’t have to prove yourself to me or the others-”

“But I have to! You’re helping me do that, so why do you think I’d be mad at you?” Alfred’s tense face fell into his usual smile as he saw the outline of Toris’s shoulders relax slightly. “I like giving my all, going all out, stuff like that, and you’re great to talk and train with. It’s just that, back in the Clan, I didn’t get that chance. Now I have that chance, I’m gonna give it my all.”

“If you say so, but tell me if you’d like to slow down, yes? It might get colder next moon, so chances are we’ll stay more in the camp, keeping everyone warm and alive.”

“Will I get to duel with the others?”

“Maybe, but for now, I want you to improve your skills before I let you duel. Still, you’ll have some time off tomorrow. Better use it wisely.”

They emerged from the tunnel to the main path of trees that led to the camp. The sky had now bathed itself in twilight, quiet and contemplating as the two Alphas made their way up alone. Now it was winter, all patrols returned at dusk, and mentors and their fledglings did the same, meaning that Toris and Alfred usually returned home after everyone else. 

As his thoughts tended to do at the end of the day, Alfred thought about Arthur. His mate would be home by now, along with the others, possibly contributing his catch to the stew that had been continuously brewing the past quarter moon or so. Though he didn’t have to prove himself as much to the rest of the Sept like Alfred did in the Alpha’s eyes, Arthur worked equally as hard as he did. Arthur had told him this morning, after he had sleepily kissed him awake, moving his hips upwards onto his. That was easily becoming one of Alfred’s favourite ways to wake up now. Arthur spoke about how he was thinking of going to the south of the border, searching for a few rambunctious rabbits…

“I’m guessing you already have a plan for how you’re going to spend tomorrow.” Toris’s voice was filled with amusement.

Alfred grinned. Maybe he was too easy to read, but now that he was able to be with his mate openly, it was difficult to be shy about his adoration.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if he’ll be too happy if he knows I’m going to steal him away.”

Arthur opened his jaw to scent the air, searching for anything he could possibly hunt down. Nothing but the tastelessness of a snowflake touched his tongue. 

Fighting back a sigh - the sound would chase away practically anything now - the Omega used his good leg to lower himself into the snow with barely a hiss. The extra layer of gauze over his weal given to him by Feliks, as thick as it was, felt strange against his hunting attire. It dug into the stiff, thick fabric of his pants, and clashed with the leather of his hunting gloves. Francis hadn’t given him the all clear yet, and Arthur knew why - flushing out prey took much longer now, and the chances were that a hunter wouldn’t notice snow soaking into their clothes until it was too late. At least Feliks had done no lasting damage to his back, which would have been devastating for any hunter.

His breath formed delicate billows in front of his face as he kept a keen eye on the surroundings, searching for the twitch of a nose, the bob of an ear. Still, luck seemed to evade him, dancing on the bare branches of the trees above, her laughter tinkling in time with the light dusting of snow. There was nothing, until he saw a single squirrel nosing around a stripped tree. It snuffled around a bundle of weeping lily petals, its blood red tail lashing about soundlessly in the snow.

It’s not as if we’re the only ones going hungry in the forest.

Then its tail stilled. Before Arthur could even move from his makeshift resting area to aim an arrow, it let out a muted squeak, the sound dulled by the snow. Nothing else breached the thick clouds floating above them except the sound of the Omega’s exhale. 

It must have suffered, Arthur couldn’t help but think, as he got up with his equipment. Pity washed over him, but only for a moment - he was used to shooting down prey, after all. The creature must have only ingested a bite before it had died judging from the time passed, but weeping lilies weren’t poisonous to humans. Come to think of it, it was one of the uncommon treatments for a damp cough, to draw out the mucus in someone’s chest - uncommon given that they rarely found any weeping lilies in the territory. Ingested even by accident, it was harmless. So why had the squirrel fallen to it so quickly? Was it truly that desperate to eat anything in the forest? It didn’t seem likely, given that the prey he and his fellow Omegas brought back still had flesh on their bones, and there was no terrible sickness sweeping through the forest. 

With as light of a tread as possible, keeping his body low to the ground, Arthur approached the squirrel. Even as he picked it up, it was still motionless, and smelled and behaved just like regular prey. 

Arthur’s gaze caught on the weeping lily petal, a tiny set of teeth marks the only thing indicating that it had ever been touched. 

A few cycles ago, when Arthur was still a fledgling training under Francis and his mentor, there had been talk between the tribe hunters about increasing the efficacy of their kills. As the Omega picked up the petal, he couldn’t remember everything about the debate, but he did remember them settling on poison extracted from the marshy frogs on the edge of their territory, which he had been forbidden to visit as a fledgling. It had been an autumn of unexpected loss, when five Omegas had died because of the experiment, almost certainly due to the strange colour their skins had turned from the poison. Another three Alphas died a day later, later identified as having handled most of the poison-tipped arrows, extracting them from the catches. Eight in one devastating fell swoop.

The Sept had not dared experiment afterwards, but as Arthur shook out the wet snow clinging to the squirrel’s fur, there had been something there. Perhaps, with his knowledge of herbs, keeping his tribe safe, they could give it another try. There was still time before the evening meal, but given that he was still contemplating what he had seen, and the chances of him catching more small prey were shrinking before him…

Arthur slung his bow back over his shoulder, turning to leave. The hunt was almost over.

Of course, what little peace Arthur did manage to find was ruined by Alfred bounding up to him as he rounded the corner on the pathway back to the Sept camp. 

“You okay?” Alfred panted, as soon as he linked up with his mate, wrapping a strong arm around his waist. Their easy intimacy made Arthur’s heart pound underneath his furs, a tiny cry trapped in his bones. 

“Yes, I’m quite all right.” Arthur was about to ask if the two of them should go back up to camp, but given that there was still enough time before they were expected back, he couldn’t help but ask. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”

“Yeah, of course - nice catch, by the way!”

The two of them began to slowly make their way out towards the Sept territory, talking in hushed tones all the way. In response, the forest held its breath, quieting itself so that Alpha and Omega could speak.

“It’s cold out here! And the landscape’s all white and stuff, - it’s a lot more snowy than when I came up.”

“You’ve come at a bad time,” Arthur said. “When the spring comes, I’ll show you the true beauty of the Sept territory.”

“Huh? Oh - I mean, it’s fine.” Alfred gave Arthur a little nudge. “I’ve seen the best sights the Sept has to offer already.”

“You have? What could you possibly-” Arthur demanded, then stopped short as the meaning dawned on him. Alfred was grinning like a direwolf pup presenting a gift. “Alfred!”

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” He immediately began making fake kissing noises, to which Arthur did his best to bat him away. “I could look at you forever.”

“You’re too loud.”

“I COULD LOOK AT YOU FOREVER!”

Alfred was rewarded with a swat to the shoulder.

“You’ve chased away all the prey from the northern end of our border to the glade,” Arthur grumbled.

“Pshhh, worth it, and - wait. Who’s that?”

“Who’s what?” 

Arthur turned his head in the direction that Alfred was looking at, nonplussed - then saw two figures standing by the river, the border between Sept and Clan.

“Matthew,” Alfred heard himself say. His legs were a moment faster than his mind, and he broke into a run. The direwolf and the Omega at the river’s edge stayed unmoving, then he saw the fading sunlight highlight the tips of the blond hair they shared. Arthur followed suit, hastily securing his squirrel to the farthest side of his belt before slinging his bow onto his shoulder.

When the half-brothers were in earshot, Matthew spoke. 

“Alfred…”

“Are you okay?” Alfred spoke without abandon, taking a step forward before hesitating. “I - uh. I’m sorry. About that night. All the trouble I caused you…”

Matthew shook his head, hesitated as well, then moved forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his half-brother. Alfred exhaled, a sound caught between a sob and a sigh, then hugged him back, a bundle of furs and kin. Out of the corner of his eyes before he closed them, Alfred could see Arthur smile, standing off to the side.

Matthew didn’t seem like he wanted to let go anytime soon, and neither did Alfred. The familiarity of his brother’s scent, the violets that had been there since they were infants a cycle apart, his steady breathing, even the ends of his hair that curled up into Alfred’s face felt more comforting than it had before. 

“Don’t apologise,” Matthew managed to get out, and there were tears in his voice, too. “Alfred - I don’t regret what I did that night. I would have done it again.”

“You didn’t get caught, right? I, you know, you took such a risk with Kuma, and I know your direwolf’s well-trained, but still-”

The two half-brothers pulled away to talk.

“No, I was in the camp the entire night with our sire and Tino,” Matthew said. “Everyone in the Clan thinks it’s still only a sole Omega who broke you out. Feliks and Vistula were incapacitated, so they didn’t see Kuma and Francis, and the healer was so preoccupied with treating Feliks’s wound that by the time they found Arthur’s hiding place, most of the scent was carried away. Kuma went back to the kennels later that night by himself, I checked while everyone was crowding around the infirmary.”

“He’s okay, right?”

Matthew nodded. “Not a scratch.”

“I’m glad. Give him an extra treat for Arthur and me, yeah?” Alfred grinned.

“He’s already well fed for a winter, you know. But maybe. How’s, erm. How’s life in the Sept?”

“Oh, it’s…” Alfred looked back, trying to catch Arthur’s gaze - but his mate only gestured with his head, looking off to the side. 

I guess he doesn’t need to listen in, but what if I say something stupid?

“It’s, uh. It’s great, actually. Training under the deputy’s been really rewarding, and I feel like I’m really doing something with my life. There’s a lot of stuff to do, and I’m learning so much, and-” Alfred had to break for breath, noticing Matthew’s terse shoulders relax. “Yeah. It’s just. You don’t need to worry.”

“You seem happy. I guessed that was just because you were alone with Arthur, but…”

“It’s the first time we’ve been allowed outside the camp together alone, actually,” Alfred said. “It…kinda just happened, but I guess we have a habit of doing that.”

Matthew snorted. “I suppose you could say that.”

The conversation broke for awhile, the two brothers taking in the sight of each other, Alfred bending over to give Kuma a scritch between his fluffy, curved ears.

“Matthew…how can I repay you? For-” Alfred gestured around himself, he wasn’t sure if words could convey it properly, “for all of this, but also…sticking with me. In the Clan. You could have cast me out a long time ago.”

His brother’s mouth twisted slightly. “I’ve had to do that, you know. Me and Tino and Berwald. Our sire gathered the two of us in his den, and said that if we acted more hateful towards you, after Arthur rescued you from our camp, then the Clan would be content.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Yes.”

Alfred gnawed at his bottom lip. “How’s Tino? I know…he’s gotta be taking this hard. And Hana…”

“You know him, he doesn’t give up. He mostly stays silent about it, doesn’t talk about it. He spends most of his time in the nursery. Word is that the camp thinks he doesn’t want to admit he made a mistake about you, but Berwald and I know better. It’s- it’s better this way.”

“He’ll bounce back, right? As he always does.”

Matthew nodded. He idly scratched the back of Kuma’s ears. “We were just worried about you.”

“...what about Berwald?”

“Berwald’s doing fine. At least - as fine as he can be. His seconds are still unhappy about how he and the Sept leader conducted themselves in the Gathering, but even they can admit they don’t want a war during winter, and they got the information they wanted from Dietrich. They just don’t see you as worth fighting for after that night, which…in some way, I think that’s what Berwald was trying to do. There’s no way you’d come back, after all that’s happened.”

Alfred didn’t hesitate. “No chance.”

“There you have it then. It’d be a pointless fight, and more likely than anything, I think you’d get killed. The balance between the clanmates and Berwald is as fragile as it’s been, but for our own survival, we’ve decided to just leave it for now. When winter is over and the gifts of spring come, with all the direpups, things will get better, and trust in our sire will be restored. They’ll forget.”

With a side glance to Arthur, who was now doing his best to inconspicuously clean his arrows, Alfred had to ask. “What about…what about Feliks? He doesn’t seem like he’ll go into the night quietly. You know what I mean. What if he asks for justice later?”

“Berwald has enough authority to get him to stand down. And in some way, our healer helped. She told him that if Arthur really wanted to murder him there and then, he’d be dead. That’s taken a bit off his edge…but it’s just as well Arthur and Feliks won’t meet on a formal battlefield.”

Arthur was listening in now, his hand still. The look in his eyes made Alfred think back to the pieces of his own memories of that night, the fierceness with how Arthur defended him. 

"Send your direwolf away to your healer, and you’ll have a chance of surviving that. I cut your artery, so you have five minutes, Feliks."

Matthew’s violet gaze followed Alfred’s line of sight. “In the same vein,” he said, “I think if there’s any way you can get your leader to deploy you into less battles for now, it would be good.”

“Yeah, I will. I’m still - I’m not very good at all. At fighting, I mean. Toris - my mentor - says it’s my weakest skill by far, given that I wasn’t really allowed to sharpen my skill with the other Alphas. So Toris probably won’t recommend me as battle-ready for another six moons.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“It’s not going to be that easy, ever. Fighting…the others are always gonna be out to get me, probably.”

As Matthew opened his mouth to speak, Kuma walked forward, touching the back of Alfred’s hand with his wet nose, then retreating to stand next to his partner. 

“Thanks, Kuma,” Alfred murmured. There wasn’t much to say to that, when his brother’s direwolf could sense his own inner conflict. “You’re right. But as a Sept warrior…I gotta deal with these things now.”

“You’ll be fine. If you could survive life in the Clan, you’ll survive in the Sept.”

“Yeah. I will.”

“...I have to go,” Matthew said reluctantly, turning slightly on his heel, the wood in the base of the shoe sending some of the silt scattering into the river behind them. “I’m expected back soon, and if I ride on Kuma, I’ll make it back just on time. Not to mention, if we spend too much time together, the other tribe’s scent might rub off.”

“You’re right,” Alfred hesitated as he stepped backwards. “Listen…I just want you and Tino and Berwald to know that I don’t mind if you guys need to reject me to protect yourselves. Berwald’s leadership, too. You’re still up for the second position, right?”

“For now.”

“Then go get it.” Alfred gave Matthew’s shoulder a pat. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m really happy. Happier than I've ever been. Ever.”

“I still regret how things played out when you were still living with us,” his brother admitted. “I don’t regret what I did, because I’m your half - no, I’m your brother. But I know that if I was in that situation, you’d do the same. At the same time…things shouldn’t have been that way. I should have done something more.”

Alfred shook his head. “There wasn’t much you could have done back in the Clan. You and Tino and Berwald did everything you could have against the rest of them. And yeah, I would have done it, too, but uh, don’t go searching for Alphas in the Sept, okay?”

Matthew snorted. “Very funny, Alfred.”

The two brothers turned to leave, Alfred kneeling down to take Arthur’s offered hand, but the last grip on his heart had not subsided just yet. In many ways, he was saying goodbye to his brother for the last time.

“Wait!” he called out, just as Matthew had gotten onto his direwolf. “Just one more thing - how’s Hana? Did Tino get to find out her nature just yet?”

Matthew turned around, a smile tugging at the corners of his face. “Tino says any day now. I’ll tell you at the next Gathering. She’s been sleeping through most of this stuff, but I’ll make sure she knows her older brother’s not as bad as the rest of the Clan makes him out to be.”

“See you at the next Gathering, I hope.”

“Yep. Stay alive throughout the winter.”

“You too. And…” 

Alfred let himself stand there, foot still on the bank of the river, then moved away for the last time. 

“Thanks, Matthew. For everything.”

“It’s as if it was all a dream. I felt like I’d spent my entire life with you, in that cave.”

Arthur rolled over, blinking. “Like a dream?” 

He could barely hear his mate speak, and so he had to get some clarification. Now that the evening meal had finished, Arthur handing in his kill while Alfred saved a spot for the two of them next to Toris, the mates had retreated back to their den for the night, given that it was steadily becoming too cold to socialise. Francis, thankfully, had gone to bed early.

“Mm. I kinda…it was like - it’s just like I don’t think about it anymore. You know?”

The Omega couldn’t help but snort. “No.” 

“Hey, I’m doing my best!” Alfred complained, but it was muffled and quiet into the covers. “I think I got more than my fair share of you today. So I’m not thinking straight.”

“Are you attempting to blame me for your uneven speech?”

“Well…I have been sounding more Sept lately. Sometimes I catch myself saying one word just like everyone else, then go back to my old way of saying it. Is that weird?”

“No, I don’t…think so,” Arthur spoke with a lazy roll of his fingers against Alfred’s neck. “But is that my fault still?”

The two of them bickered very halfheartedly for a few moments before Arthur gave in, rolling deeper into his Alpha’s arms. 

“What were you saying, before?” Arthur mumbled into his chest.

“Nothing…nothing important…”

“Say it!”

“Okay, geez,” Alfred complained, but it was soft and tender and he used his left arm to bring his Omega closer to him. “Okay. I meant that my time with the Clan feels like a dream now. A sucky, terrible dream, but still a dream.”

“Something you can’t touch, or go back to?”

“Yeah, something like that. And…maybe that’s a good thing. I told Matthew I would never come back, and I meant it, didn't even have to think twice. Is that weird?”

“Well, I did say earlier on that you were wise for keeping all your thoughts of the Clan within the Clan…but the moment you saw your brother, it came rushing back, didn’t it? So it might have been like that for the almost moon you’ve been in camp, but you only just realised it now.”

Alfred nodded; Arthur could feel the vibrations of his body against his skin. 

“Do you…think it’s a bad thing?”

“No. In some way…” Arthur took a breath. “It was - perhaps it was a vision. I’m not sure. When winter came to the Sept…I saw you in a dream. It led me back to you, it led me to find you so urgently that night. There’s nothing wrong with that, and I’m sure the way you’re feeling now is the same.”

“Really? Is having a vision - dreaming of me - a bad thing?”

Arthur shook his head. “Seeing another person in the dreams the gods send you signifies they mean something to you. Back then, I didn’t realise how much you meant to me…rather, I couldn’t let myself realise, until you were in my vision. In the same vein, you’re moving on, in your own way,” he said. “From your time in the Clan. I remember you told Matthew that you’ve been happiest here. Maybe in some way, the gods knew you’d be happier here.”

“Who cares about the gods,” Alfred gathered Arthur close to him, ignoring his half-hearted attempts at protesting, “when I have you?” 

“Are you - are you attempting to flirt with me?! We’re discussing a very important matter-”

“I’m still happy about earlier today. Remember when we talked about it in the cave?”

“Your dream - well, in this case, your hope - about the two of us alone in the forest, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” Alfred stammered. The subtle sweetening in his scent brought a smile to Arthur’s face, and he could not, did not, want to lift it from his lips. “You remembered?”

“Sometimes when I go into the forest, I think about it. I try to avoid going to the hollow, because maybe one day, I’ll act on my impulses and yank you out of a training session with Toris, and our deputy will never let me hear the end of it.”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

Now that was something Arthur could not forgive, and he flicked Alfred’s cowlick with a huff of his now. “Definitely not. You’d never stray, nor put your eyes away from me, so there’s none of that nonsense. If anything, I’m glad you and Toris are becoming so close.”

“Yeah, me too. And I’m happy you know.” Alfred placed a quick, loud kiss to the top of Arthur’s head. “I’m not sure if I can call him a friend just yet, but…”

The Omega furrowed his thick eyebrows. “Why ever not?”

Alfred grimaced. “I…it’s my fault. I don’t really know what a friend’s like - I’ve never really had any friends. I had you, but then I realised I was falling for you pretty quick, and I’m pretty sure that that’s not how friendship is, right? What do you think?”

“I’m not sure how I ever was granted the great misfortune of being friends with Francis, but we were trained together as children. He’s only a few cycles older than me, and with his Beta mentor being very old, he was glad to bond with someone more his age. Though the gods must know we don’t get along very well, I consider him my closest friend.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it, but you guys still talk, right? Even though you can’t work together any longer.”

“Well,” Arthur said, “Dietrich barred me from duties, not from the medicine den entirely. We still eat the morning and afternoon meal together when you’re not here, and there’s plenty to talk about, just not…healing things. Perhaps sometimes he’ll ask me for advice, but beyond that, that’s not allowed. I can’t be seen doing anything.”

“You still miss working with him, right? I don’t remember much of it, but when we both went back to the Sept camp for the first time after that night, you guys worked together so fluidly. It was cool to see.”

“Of course, we’re very good at what we do.” 

“You’re pretty happy to brag, aren’t you?”

“Brag - oi, what are you calling bragging?” Arthur, were he not so tired and happy and dizzy with the bliss of being with his mate, would have leapt out of their bedding and shook Alfred. “I saved your life with my skills! Though I hated you then!”

“Don’t remind me about how I tried to kill you when we first met!”

Arthur spluttered with indignation, though to his dismay, it came out much like laughter. “Well, you’re the one bringing it up!”

Alfred puffed out his chest. “I don’t hide anything from my mate, so I had to tell you!”

“I’m telling you, then,” Arthur said, “if I wasn’t a healer, I would have sent an arrow into your body.”

“Where would you shoot me, then?” The Alpha leaned back, giving his Omega access to his entire torso and most of his lower body. “C’mon, tell me. Show me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Despite his words, Arthur was already crawling on top of him. “Fine, if I must - but you must lie still.”

“Hm, hm,” Alfred said in a sing-song voice. His eyes tightly tracked Arthur’s movements as the Omega placed a hand on his body, tracing upwards from his stomach. 

“Well, your heart, first.” Two of Arthur’s fingers pressed near the bony indentation where Alfred’s heart would rest underneath his ribcage, covered by layers of muscle that only seemed to thicken as the suns slipped by. 

“Aiming straight for my heart?” Alfred’s eyes sparkled. “I like you being direct…”

“Alfred, I’m describing a scenario in which you asked me how I would shoot to kill.”

“Hey! My point still stands!”

“You’re very strange, saying what you want,” Arthur sighed, but he continued. In some way, two could play at that game. “If I missed, I’d try again. Or if you got up close, I’d grip the end of my arrow with my hand and try to pierce you with blunt force.”

“...Arthur, you’re taking this too seriously…”

“Is that not the original scenario - is your scent sweetening?”

“What? You’re all cuddled up to me, and we’re talking such romantic things…is it so bad?”

“Alfred, I just talked about-”

The Alpha shook his head, nuzzling his Omega, placating him more effectively than he - any man, really - would admit to. “Come onnn. Where else?”

I’m probably taking this too seriously. If I keep on talking about how I’d put the flint of an arrow underneath his ribcage and push upwards, it would ruin the mood…so what’s he getting at?

“Do you know,” Arthur softened his voice deliberately, segueing his fingers underneath Alfred’s tunic to touch his bare skin, fingertips running a light gait upwards, “the fastest way to a man’s heart?”

“Good question,” Alfred stretched his hands behind his head, giving his mate more access. “What is the fastest way to a man’s heart?”

In the darkness, Arthur couldn’t see much except Alfred’s white tunic, tight on his sleeves and chest, but what he could see was how the fading sun caught on his outstretched fingers. 

Leaning lower, he pressed his lips to where his fingernails now dug into his mate’s tanned skin. “The fastest way to a man’s heart,” he said in a low voice, “is between the fourth and fifth ribs.”

Confusion flooded Alfred’s face for a moment, souring his scent, and Arthur couldn’t resist snickering at how similar his expression was to a direwolf’s. 

“S-So, uhm,” Alfred was clearly flustered, “you’re…oh.”

Arthur continued laughing as Alfred snorted, realising - then his laughter was lost in a gasp as his mate grasped him, delivering a slight nip to his mating bite.

“You’re just doing this to touch me more, right? Teasing me like this. I just wanted to know what your battle plan would be?”

“It seems like an awful lot of effort to get me to touch you more,” Arthur said, still trying to catch his breath, a task made harder when he scented Alfred’s excitement wafting through the air. Is he mocking me back, calling it a battle plan? “Well, the next step would be to disable your arm. And so…” 

With two slender fingers, he trailed his touch from between Alfred’s ribs down to his mating scar, lingering there. 

Looking at him underneath his eyelids, Arthur shifted closer, using his legs to arrange the blankets around them. “Is that answer to your satisfaction?”

“Y-Yeah…” Alfred stammered. To Arthur’s amusement, his scent slowly shifted, carrying a tinge of thickness that only intensified when the Omega moved forward to kiss him.

Of course, when it comes to flirting, I won’t be defeated.

When they finally parted, panting, eyes blown wide with desire, Arthur saw Alfred’s lips move before his words came out.

“I guess, in that case, we’ve experienced both kinds of the extreme, huh? Love and hate.”

Arthur fell silent, contemplating Alfred’s sudden words. The rush of adrenaline when Alfred had first charged at him in the cave, the whistle of the weapon at his ear, when he thought Alfred would have seized his harvesting knife and sliced open his throat. Before all of this, if he had seen the Alpha in Sept territory, more likely than not he would have notched an arrow into his bow.

“I suppose, but…they’re not very different. Was it a hard shift from your feelings of hate to your feelings of affection?”

“Nope. But I think that’s just you.”

Scoffing, Arthur shifted under their thick covers, savouring his mate’s body heat. Given that he was an Omega and naturally tended to the cold, Alfred’s warmer than usual body was perfect for him. “I’m not particularly special in that regard.”

Alfred was silent for a few moments. “You know,” he began slowly, “for those few days, when I still didn’t trust you…I was angry. At myself, mostly, but then I realised later that when I fell in love with you, it had the…same kind of fire. So I kind of know what you mean, them being not that different. It was, uh, how do I say it-”

“Go on.”

“It was easier to hate you than to love you,” Alfred admitted. “A lot easier. But by the gods, I’m so glad I chose to love you instead. When I started, too, it ended up being so easy. I’m so glad I get to come back to the camp, come back to you, every day.”

With that, he brought Arthur into his arms, his less sore leg kicking away the bedding to free up space for his Omega. Arthur looked into Alfred’s gaze and saw the warmth of the stars that he had followed home every time he had left the cave, nestled in his blue. 

“Welcome home, Alfred,” Arthur whispered. In the dark of their sleeping quarters, he could just about see the lower of Alfred’s eyelashes catch the glow of the twilight. “Welcome home.”

Chapter Text

Spring finally dawned on the forest. 

Something shifted in the scent of the frost that seemed to scorch Arthur’s nose every morning as he woke up, despite his best efforts to swaddle himself and his mate in their thick furs. As much as Alfred’s heat seemed to radiate off of him, Arthur’s Omega nature simply just made it so his body heat could never match. Still, Arthur wouldn’t refute it had been the warmest winter he could remember.

It’s early this year.

Miraculously, though the winter had sunk her fangs into the Sept camp, there had been no casualties - just the usual bouts of coughing and sniffles that he and Francis had talked about at meals. 

Usually by this time, when a new cycle of the moon had just begun, Arthur would be expecting a vision along with Francis about the coming spring and the first rain, but he knew his dreams would be silent. As the Omega tried to collect himself, rubbing at the sleep dust that clung to the corners of his eyes, he could only let the sadness ache; a raw, dull pain that was only warded away when he felt his mate stir beneath him.

“...hey,” Alfred’s voice was soupy and warm, and as Arthur reached for his own tunic to put on, he couldn’t help but want to abandon it, sliding back into their bed. “You up already?”

“Depends on whether you’re waking up as well,” Arthur yawned as he spoke, not even feeling self-conscious about it. Four moons with his mate, the two of them falling asleep side by side every night, made these things come painfully easily to him. 

“Toris expects me to help with the morning meal today, for practice. But you’re here.”

“Mnhn,” Arthur groaned. “He works you too hard.”

Alfred grinned, his smile enhanced by the fact he was wiping at his eyes. “You didn’t complain about that last night when we were talking and you were stroking my muscles…”

Arthur pawed around for the downy pillow, baked warm by his head, and halfheartedly swatted at Alfred with it.

“Arthur! You don’t have to be embarrassed. Heh, I can scent it, come closer…”

“When you put it in words like that, I can’t help but feel that way, idiot,” Arthur grumbled, yet he did not resist the Alpha’s arms snaking around his waist, pulling him flush against his chest. He allowed himself to be swallowed back into the bedding up to his chin. “Are we not waking up?”

“Sun’s still not up. Until then, we should go back to bed.”

“You’re stealing that from me,” the Omega said. He rolled over, stretching his back before wrapping his arms around Alfred. “Fine, then. We should rest a little before today.”

A warm hand came against the back of his head, ruffling his already rumpled hair, turning into a gentle scratch that had Arthur preening. “You going out hunting today?”

“Depending if Dietrich recognises that today’s the first day of spring, probably. He wants to set me up for an evaluation with the other Omegas as soon as possible, so.”

“Huh?” Alfred’s entire body jerked. “Today’s- today’s spring?!”

Arthur couldn’t help but snort. Despite his time in the Sept having crossed four moons by now, his Alpha was still starry-eyed about many things, from the way the colourful birds were described jumping about in the crevices of the border river to the ritual for the birth of a new child, which they’d attended along with the rest of the Sept a few sunrises ago. Perhaps in another life, he’d be reborn as a direwolf, and he and Arthur would run the length of the world together.

For now, though, he was content to look upwards and see his mate sniffing the air as if he were a fledgling looking out for prey scents until, with shining eyes, he blurted, “You’re right. It even smells differently!”

Arthur was more than content to watch his elation - it was his first spring in the camp, after all - when Alfred squirrelled his arm behind his back, lifting him as if he weighed no more than a feather. His mate’s strength had gotten ridiculous lately, given how he and Toris had been focusing on combat training for two moons straight now.

“What are you- I thought you said we’re going back to bed-” the Omega protested as Alfred covered him with his furs then put his own on, bundling the two of them in a cocoon as they rushed outside of the medicine den together.

Alfred looked back, giving him a wink. “I know, but it’s spring! Let’s be the first ones up.”

“Urgh…”

Alfred would have probably whooped had the cloak of night still been draped on the Sept camp, so he settled for bouncing about, peering past the defensive barrier to see if the empty branches had magically sprouted leaves overnight. 

Given that it was all too early in the morning, it was still chilly when Alfred and Arthur made their way outside. Wind brushed at their faces, with none of the fierceness that it had earlier that moon, carrying with it the scent of returning greenery and thawing frost. Arthur, last cycle, would have seen it in a vision. He still remembered it - the gods with their invisible hands sweeping across the wide pathway to the camp, colouring everything evergreen. The vividness of the vision should have made the ache in Arthur’s heart even worse, but it had been four moons. It had taken a lot of talks with Francis, staring into the dark while an exhausted Alfred had slumbered next to him, but he’d made peace with it. After cycles and cycles had passed, the tiny ache in his heart would be all that remained - and after all, with his new plan, he might not have to completely give it up. 

“Arthur!” Alfred’s excited tone brought him back to where he was standing. “C’mere, the air’s fresher this way. You can really smell it here!”

Before Arthur could halfheartedly protest, his mate’s hand intertwined with his own, immediately warming it up. Their steps were slow and deliberate, given that Alfred wouldn’t tear his gaze from his.

Then again, last time spring came to the forest…I didn’t have you.

By the time the sun’s rays had spilled onto the dusty clearing of the Sept camp, the tribe had already finished the morning meal. The changing season was practically anything anyone could talk about.

That is, except Francis and Arthur, once Alfred had taken away the wooden utensils, having been assigned to the duty that morning.

“So you’re planning to present the plan to Toris and Dietrich at the pactmaking - is that right?”

Arthur twisted two of his fingers in the palm of his right hand. He hated entrusting things to Francis like this, but he was by far the best person to confide in. 

“Do you think it’s ready?”

Francis rolled his eyes. “Arthur, you’ve been spending every spare minute other than hunting and helping out in other duties working on the plan, not to mention consulting me. After that hunting day in winter. You’ll be fine.”

“It’s a…radical proposal. Given what happened with the poisons, I don’t want Dietrich to think that-”

“They were working with things they didn’t know back then,” Francis said. “These are herbs we know inside and out, Arthur. You know inside and out. Why wait?”

“I’m hoping he’ll be in a better mood.” 

“Meal service is finished,” one of the Alphas at the head of the eating area announced, everyone’s clue to pack up for the morning. When Arthur’s claiming bite was still fresh and Alfred was called away for duties with the meal, the Omega would wait for him, but now the feral attachment that came after a bonding had melted away slightly. At least, according to one of the short, slightly awkward conversations he’d had with an Omega he’d taken care of while she was in the nursery, the two of them had handled the transition better than most. 

Arthur chose to believe her.

“Well, that’s smart,” Francis muttered, folding back over his collar, having been entangled in the rush of Sept members to the center of the camp. “It’ll be soon.”

“Have your visions given any clue about the first rain?”

Shaking his head, Francis sighed in his usual dramatic way. “If only the gods were kind enough to continue giving you visions, I could defer our leader and deputy to you. But for now, nothing.”

“Just the one about spring?”

“Just the one.” 

“Oi, don’t groan so dramatically like that, I’m doing this for the good of the tribe-”

“It’s all right to say you miss having visions to me, but you know I share them all with you!”

“That’s not the point!” Arthur scowled as he complained, and the two of them bickered in their usual way. In some way, though he was loath to admit it, the usual bickering with Francis was reassuring in comparison to the hesitant way he interacted with the rest of the Sept. Easing back into the usual duties expected of a regular Omega was not as easy as he’d hoped.

Francis gave him a nudge, probably noticing his nervousness. At least he hadn’t scented it, or Arthur would have been even more annoyed. “Do you want to go over the new combination you thought of yesterday?”

“...If no one shows up with a bellyache within the next hour, I’d like to.”

Arthur snickered at that. “Then you’ll have to kick me out of the medicine den.”

Alfred’s arms were still damp with water and numb with cold when he came down to the center of the camp. Toris had told him to take that day off since he himself was busy with deputy duties, and so Alfred’s first instinct was to try to scent out Arthur. 

Nothing, at least for now. His mate was probably busy doing work of his own.

Disappointed, Alfred retreated back from where he’d been lingering near the medicine den, picking at the loose skin near his thumb. His usual solution to missing his Omega was going off with Toris to train, but his friend was off today, meaning that…

“Now it’s the spring, will someone finally come and fix our bleeding den?” 

Great, they’re probably going to spot me any moment now, Alfred groaned internally. He’d not been prodded at by the elders for quite some time now, but he’d also not interacted with them. 

At the same time, they were really the only group he’d yet to make ‘amends’ with. The Omegas respected him, and though Alfred suspected the main reason was because he’d given up everything to be with Arthur, he was still grateful. He worked well with the other Alphas, who didn’t seem to mind him now that his scent had taken on that of the Sept's, and he was pretty sure that even Francis hated him many times less than the healer in the Clan camp. And Toris was his closest friend. Dietrich…well, he’d given Alfred a place to stay and the chance to live openly with his mate, so Alfred considered himself more than grateful.

Yet Alfred found his legs taking him closer, to where three Alphas were standing with the elders, presumably trying to talk out the situation.

“Yes, we’ll see if anyone wants to do it,” he saw a female Alpha say, shifting her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Last season, some people got hurt, and-”

“I can probably help,” Alfred heard himself say. A twinge of pain etched itself in the lining of his stomach, curving as he breathed. 

“You?” the elder said, sounding full of disbelief. He sized Alfred up with his dark green eyes, his frown carving a crease into his forehead. “Has Toris released you from your training yet?”

“I don’t know,” the other elder said. “But it is undeniable that spring has come unusually early in this cycle of the moon. It could be the sign of the gods voicing their approval of how Dietrich has taken him in.”

“I trust Toris with his training…I suppose I would not mind.”

“Can we trust him?” an elder whispered to the person next to him. The Alphas still present exchanged a glance between them, but they didn’t speak, not wanting to risk the elders’ wrath themselves.

Alfred steeled his jaw and did his best to smile. His cool reception by the elders was not something he wasn’t unfamiliar with after all; four moons of dealing with it proved much less painful than the cycles and cycles of open hatred from the Clan elders. 

“I’ll, uh, do my best,” he said, giving a stout nod. Thinking that was the end of it, he turned to leave when he felt a slow tap on his shoulder.

“I think we’re all acting a little too skittish.” 

Alfred was expecting a younger voice, maybe one of the Alphas in the group if not by the grace of the gods Toris himself, but to his surprise, an elder, having emerged from the crowd, was the one speaking. 

“After all, he’s worked hard these four moons, and he has Toris’s approval. Why not give him a shake? It’s not as if anyone’s particularly itching to help us rebuild our den after a few attempts awhile back. If anything, I want my sturdy, warm walls back.”

The elder turned back to the other three Alphas. “What do you think?”

“I don’t see why not. He’s shown himself to be a capable worker…”

“And the fact that the spring arrived earlier than we thought…”

“As a member of the Sept, I want to help,” Alfred said. He felt his stomach ripple uncomfortably as he saw one or two of the elders' faces sour, but otherwise he still held their attention. “I’m strong, promise. Let me prove my loyalty to you.”

“Just by repairing some dens?” 

Alfred forced himself to continue smiling. It wasn’t as if this was the worst he’d faced from elders, anyway. 

“Something like that.”

The elder fixed him with a glance, before shrugging. “Well, if it ends up in our den being finally repaired, I’ll be thankful,” he grunted, and that was that.

“So you’re really going to try to fix their den?” Toris asked, putting down the metal stick he had been using to poke around the fire of the forge. After the afternoon meal where he and Dietrich had been talking the entire time, he and Alfred had gone to help out in the forge when an Alpha had requested to switch duties with him.  

“Yeah, that’s the plan. It’s been like that for a season, and I think I can get it done. It’s another task, but I want them to like me. Ever since I’ve joined the Sept, it’s been difficult.”

Toris sighed. “You can’t get everyone to like you, you know.”

“That’s fine,” Alfred tested the weight of the two logs he was carrying, then kept on speaking. “I just want them to trust me. Maybe not now, but when I become a full-fledged Sept Alpha.”

“Rebuilding the den’s going to be hard. Some of the other Alphas have gotten injured doing so but…” Toris took a drink from his waterskin, patting near his side on his stone bench to beckon Alfred to sit next to him. “I don’t think I can stop you, and you’re unusually strong anyway, so. It’s mostly a lot of heavy lifting to replace old, rotted pieces of wood. If you get hurt, let Arthur - well, Francis - know. Francis first. If you feel yourself getting tired, you need to take a break.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll put you off combat training for a few days. I’m sure you’ll be sore after all of that, and your training’s going very well. I think we’ll be fine for you finishing early spring.”

Alfred had to pause at that. “Really?”

The corners of his friend’s lips perked up. “Yep. It’s strange, but you’re already fitting in. Any problems with the guys at the clothing repair yesterday?”

At Alfred shaking his head no, Toris nodded. “Good.”

“They just treated me like some guy. Which is what I wanted-”

“Toris?” 

“Hey, Eduard-”

“Hey, Eduard!”

“Hey to you guys too,” Eduard said. “Uh, Toris, Dietrich wants you.” As Toris was going past him, he added, “How’s it going, Alfred? Heard you’re taking on the task of fixing the elder’s den.”

“Y-Yeah, something like that. Thanks for helping out.”

Eduard whistled. “Good luck with that, the roof’s higher than most and needs extra reinforcing,” the Alpha said. “Uh, we’re gonna leave it to you, but don’t rely too much on that Alpha strength, right? If you need help, ask us. Toris, one sec!”

He left, leaving Alfred to sit alone in the forge, warmed by not only the fire but the relief in his pounding heart.

“My bearer says any day now, the pactmaking will happen,” one of the fledglings declared, the sound that broke the clanking of the forge for Alfred just before the evening meal. “He says that it’s been a lucky season, because no one’s gotten sick.”

“Mine doesn’t believe in luck, but it has been a pretty good winter. My mentor says once the pactmaking’s done, she’ll plan for an assessment.”

“Really? You’ve only been training for four cycles!”

“Five now! And it feels so long! How are we meant to train for six cycles…if only we can do it in six moons…”

The fledgling next to her snorted. “Try throwing an Alpha who’s thirteen cycles old into battle.”

“Yeah - okay, fine, but still, waiting until we’re eighteen cycles old sucks. Don’t you agree? You’ve got two more left to go!”

He was about to reply when Alfred stepped underneath the arch that led to the forge, causing the fledglings to spring away from the step.

“Shoot, sorry!”

“No, it’s fine,” Alfred said quickly, waving it away. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine!” the female fledgling said, though he could see her nose scrunched up in embarrassment. “Just waiting for the first rain, like everyone else…it feels like forever. I want my assessment now…”

Making sure no one around would be glaring daggers at him for ‘slacking off’, Alfred settled onto the stone steps next to the male fledgling. “Honestly, heh…me too.”

“I don’t get it,” the male fledgling said, scuttling a little closer, closing the gap between the three of them. “You were full-fledged before joining the Sept, right?” At Alfred’s nod, he continued. “So why are you training again?”

“He’s got to learn the ways of our Sept, silly,” the girl said, nudging her friend cheerfully. “And Toris had to keep an eye on him for a bit, but he’s fine now.”

Alfred couldn’t help but grin at her words. “I sucked at fighting, so I needed Toris to teach me too.”

“Really? But you’re so…” the boy squinted at Alfred. “I mean, you’re kinda big. Taller than most of the Alphas in the camp. Can’t you just beat them up or something?”

“It would be better if I knew how to use a weapon,” Alfred conceded. “And I’ve not put my strength to good enough use yet, but I’m going to patch up the elders’ den tomorrow.”

“Oh that’s great!” the girl exclaimed. “Seriously, the thawing snow keeps on getting in the den, and it’s us who has to keep cleaning it up. Last quarter moon, my shoulders were so sore and it wasn’t my combat training because I didn’t do any of that then…”

“Hey, Alfred!” someone shouted from across the camp, and Alfred and the fledglings moved around to see an Alpha with two logs of wood laid on the dusty ground. “These the logs you wanted for the elders’ den?”

“Gotta go,” Alfred said quickly, giving the fledglings a thumbs up as he got up. Though spring was just about to fully bloom, the cold hadn’t yet completely subsided, meaning he was still bogged down by furs and had to steady himself before jogging over to the Alpha who had called him.

“Y-Yeah, thanks.”

“Anytime.” Then as Alfred was about to go, “Wait a sec. You, uh, helping out with the elders’ den?’

Alfred nodded.

The Alpha sucked at her teeth. “Yikes. You need help with that?”

“I want to try fixing it myself. They’ve…not really liked me so far, and…”

She raised her eyebrows. “You sure? It’s a hard fix, because it’s so high up, and you need to lug it upwards by hand, because we don’t have the space to mount the equipment to pulley it there. People have gotten hurt before.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll ask for help if I think I might hurt myself.”

“All right, then.” She helped Alfred prop up the logs. “Just be careful, or we’ll all have to answer to your mate if you get hurt,” she said, snickering as she moved away. 

Yet Alfred could not detect contempt or mocking in her tone, just the hints of laughter in her words. She’d treated him like a fellow Sept Alpha, and in that moment, that alone felt like it could give him the strength of a hundred men - not to mention, he’d do everything he could if it meant he’d never have to worry his Omega again. 

The next three days passed without much incident.

Arthur, between sewing new gauze for the medicine den as part of his Omega duties, the impending new season - which meant the loss of the winter truce - and figuring out the details of his plan with Francis, was rather busy. His best friend’s approval of his complicated plan had given him the determination needed to bring it to fruition before Toris put him into the new rotations.

“...how big a dose would you think a deer would need?” Francis asked, turning over a pouch of petals to Arthur’s outstretched hand. “There.”

“Too much. We need to test out the potency of the dose first, but I can’t do that without Dietrich’s approval.”

“You’re playing it safer than you usually would.”

Arthur grimaced at the Beta’s playful tone. “Well, if I tried anything without the leader’s express permission, I don’t doubt that I’d get into a lot of bleeding trouble. Especially after the incident with the poisons…”

“Hm hm…I suppose that would make sense.”

“You’re not taking this seriously enough!”

“Oh? Then maybe I should sit it out for now, wait for some work…”

As if by magic, the lichen curtain swished open, revealing a mentor and her fledgling.

“Francis, my fledgling - oh,” she paused upon seeing Arthur and Francis poring over their work. “Is he allowed to be here?”

Arthur’s jaw tensed. If she demanded to know what they were doing, or reported him to Dietrich, or made a scene at all…

“He’s not doing any healing or healer work, so yes.” Francis swiftly moved to the side. “Dietrich knows.”

“Oh, all right, then.” And just like that, the conversation closed. “Cool. Could you take a look at this little chestnut here? Snagged his leg on a branch and keeps on saying it’s nothing, but just to be sure-”

“I’m fine!”

“Sit down and let me take a look at you,” Francis gestured the fledgling down, dragging over the smallest of the stools they had on hand, then looked up at his mentor. “Do you want to stay?”

“Yes, I’d like to make sure he’s all right. I don’t have any duties until dusk.”

“Right, well, take a seat there. Arthur-” Francis waved at him, “thanks for helping me sweep up the area, but I’ll finish cleaning up later.”

Oh, that’s the cover story he’s going for. “You’re welcome,” Arthur replied, being sure to keep as much dryness in his voice as he usually did - he didn’t want Francis to think he was too thankful. “I’d best be off. Hope he’s all right.”

“Thanks, Arthur,” the Alpha said. Arthur searched for disdain, suspicion, anything that would betray her true feelings, but found nothing. 

“No worries,” he said. After all, respect needed to be repaid with respect.

Alfred was off repairing the elders’ den, as he’d been doing the past two sunrises. Toris had given him permission to take time off of his training because of the big project, yet his mate was as busy as ever. These two nights, he’d crawled into their bed late, whispering a small apology as he went. Even now, as he stepped outside, the Omega was careful to not be spotted by Alfred in case he saw him and fell off the high roof he was currently perching on.

Leaning against the stones that made up the path to the leader’s den, Arthur watched him work. The Omega saw how easily his mate fit in, how there was a small crowd of Alphas and Omegas alike giving him advice, even two or three of the elders watching outside. Arthur could see his Alpha’s expression - radiant, excited, full of belonging. 

Had he been born to be in the Sept? His fitting in felt so natural. Abruptly, Arthur felt uncomfortable - jealous, even. Most importantly, he felt disappointed - not in his Alpha, or the tribe, but in himself. He’d not thrown himself back into Sept life like his mate had, having gotten used to living slightly outside the boundaries of the tribe, but at the same time, now he was no longer afforded those privileges…

Arthur gave himself a little shake, straightening himself out. If he kept on acting like this, he was sure his mate would scent his distress from a million miles away.

In the early rays of the sun, Alfred paced the length of the floor base of the elders’ den, waiting for the logs that he’d requested - the last batch. Not only had carrying and securing the new logs with ropes made him exhausted, but he also acutely felt responsibility, expectation, all of the combined pressure from the past few days, press hard on his tense shoulders. 

The first day was the most difficult. After all, many had tried before him, getting hurt in the process. The elders had been partially escorted out, half under the guise of getting them to breathe in the fresh spring air, but also for their safety in case something went wrong. The commotion at least was enough to get some people clustering around the den, watching Alfred work. 

At the start, he was a bit of a stubborn mule, not letting anyone help, but after he started scenting frustration - bad, because he wasn’t familiar with everyone yet, and so if their scents were getting through, they were truly annoyed - he decided to accept help. Because of the size of the roof, there wasn’t space for the usual pulley system that the Sept used. Alfred didn’t mind much, given that there wasn’t one for the Clan’s plains and rolling hills, and he was used to lifting heavy things with his strength alone. Instead, three people supported the base of the log, only letting go once it was three quarters on the roof. Alfred spent the first two days splitting the logs into smaller pieces, until Eduard and another Alpha climbed up with him to make the work faster. 

Fledglings laughing and flinging the last few remnants of snow at each other, hunters coming back from their patrols, Vilnius’s distinct yaps given that she was the only pup - all of the now familiar sounds of the Sept camp faded into the background as Alfred worked. Without noticing, his movements had eased and his breathing had relaxed, now that there were people helping out. Two Omegas had joined in, making the binds for the logs onto the existing den smoothly, and it had shortened the Alpha’s work significantly, because he didn’t need to double check his own large, clumsy handiwork. He let himself think of Arthur’s slender hands mixing together the laurentia poultice the day they’d met, and nothing else - surely his Omega would drive his mind to distraction.

As the sun was swallowed up by the night and the torches came on, Alfred’s muscles ached, the inside of his mouth was dry and he was sure the last time he’d drunk water was when the sun was still lording over the sky, but he had to keep on going, wanting to beat the evening meal. When he finished, everyone else would get to go home. 

Time lost all meaning as he tied and secured and lifted, hearing only the low chatter of his fellow septmates and the faint chirp of dusk birds, yet another sign that spring had truly returned to the forest territory. A lone water droplet fell into Alfred’s face, and he wiped it off like usual - but then the water kept on coming, the torch flickering between the two Alphas on the roof, as they were almost done.

“Alfred!” one of the Omegas from below called. “It’s raining - you should leave it for now!”

“I’m almost done!” Alfred called back, not even looking away from his work. Then, in a quieter voice to Eduard, “Are we?”

“Just need to secure this area, then we’re done. I’ll let you do the honours, but if you feel like you’re slipping off, let me know.”

“Okay. Can you give me the binding?”

Eduard fished it from his belt, where he’d knotted them for ease of access. “Two left, then we’ll be done.”

Alfred nodded, wiping the rain from his cheekbone, keeping his vision clear. He broke off the excess twine, then pushed in the clay further, sealing off the wall. Just one more portion to go. He could almost taste the thick scent of the clay, and took a moment to open his mouth to enjoy the fresh rainwater. 

Rainwater - rain. It was raining.

It was raining! The first rain of the cycle of the moon!

Tomorrow’s gotta be the direwolf pactmaking ritual, I think…so I need to finish this now. 

The rain roared in his ears, fiercely battering him, but Alfred couldn’t stop now. Time lost meaning, the fire flickering against the dark colours of the materials as Alfred smoothed and tied and placed, a bead of sweat running down his back mingling with the rain. 

Finally, as the last piece of clay was secured with a dry hand, Alfred having hastily wiped his hand on the inside of his abandoned coat of fur, he yelled out, throwing up his arms. “We’re done!”

“Come back inside now!” It was an elder’s voice. “It’s raining buckets.”

Alfred had never been happier to comply with orders. He helped Eduard down first, then the others helped Alfred down. He was exhausted, his muscles were trembling, and his mouth felt like the brittle leaves that grew astride the Cloudfalls in the Clan territories, but it was done. It was done.

“Good work. Good work up there!”

“Nice one.”

“It’s all thanks to you guys for helping me out, or it would have taken a quarter moon,” Alfred admitted easily, grinning as he was handed a towel and a waterskin. The light had not been rehung from the now intact roof of the elders’ den, but by the morning, it would be. “Thanks.”

“Come, sit down for awhile. The evening meal…well, I don’t know what’ll happen, but it should be soon. You and everyone else should get the lion’s share tonight.”

“Alfred, for sure. He’s shown his mettle.”

The Alpha bit the inside of his cheek, but couldn’t hide his smile. Flanked by his septmates, and the proof of his hard work as he lifted his head, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging, more powerful than ever. 

Chapter Text

“There’s no need to fasten on my furs for me today, I think.”

“Shh.” Alfred bent down slightly to nuzzle at Arthur’s exposed neck, nipping gently when his Omega shivered. “C’mon, I want to. Like usual. It’s still cold, right?”

“It’s the first Sept ritual we’ll be going to together, so I suppose it’s - fine.”

“Hey. You’re getting better at collecting yourself when I do that…”

Arthur took another deep breath as Alfred’s teeth grazed softly against the outline of his shoulder. Given that his Alpha had come into the evening meal last night a hero of the Sept, he’d felt so full of affection and, embarrassingly enough, desire, but given how exhausted his mate was, he made sure to leave it there. 

As the first rain of the spring had arrived last night, it meant that this morning would mark the pactmaking, where the progenitor wolf would come to visit the Sept bearing direpups. The Omega couldn’t help but wonder if the timing was the same for the Clan, as the two tribes had never truly discussed between themselves, and what he knew came straight from his mate. 

Still, as Alfred fastened his coat over him, Arthur waited until he began dressing himself before examining the basket he had prepared with Francis’s help. All the herbs he needed, and of course, a bundle of the weeping lilies. Ghosting his fingers over them, he made himself take a deep breath before replying to Alfred. 

Today had to go well - it had to.

“We’ve been mated for four moons, so. I’d like to think we’ve calmed down by now.”

“Hmm…yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Alfred ran a little ahead of Arthur, swivelling sharply towards him and flashing him his best grin. “How do I look? Good enough, right?”

“You certainly look better without a mound of furs swallowing your massive frame,” Arthur conceded, but he couldn’t help but look further. Alfred had bulked up quite a bit from his winter of hard work; his bruises and scratches were gone entirely from his skin after his ordeal in the Clan, leaving only his mating scar still sitting against his wrist. From the wide breadth of his strong shoulders to the smooth line from his chest to his waist, Arthur wanted to take a bite out of him. 

Alfred blinked. The movement made the light play off the tanned skin on his eyelids, snag softly on his eyelashes on their way downwards and Arthur had to swallow. It had been awhile since he’d been able to just slow down, just take in the sights and scents of his Alpha. Would he ever get tired of touching him, taking in the edge of pine from the Sept forest that lingered in his pheromones now, that loyalty protecting him from anything that could ever harm the Omega?

Yet the light tap of rain against the den brought Arthur back to his own senses - now was not appropriate. As much as he enjoyed measuring time by how Alfred’s broad chest rose and fell, at that moment, they were needed elsewhere. 

Coughing into his hand once, as if it could ward off the desire he was sure was bubbling up his nose, he settled for moving forward, fisting his hand into the lip of Alfred’s tunic, then kissing him until the two of them had to break for breath.

A few hours after the morning patrols had returned, the Sept made preparations to set out for the clearing. Now the winter had loosened its hold on the forest and the rain had come to replace it, scattered patches of snow and ice were the only faint scars left. The Sept, carrying their ceremonial meal that was traditionally had after the pactmaking, chatted excitedly amongst themselves. Alfred and Arthur found themselves in the middle of the pack, Alfred holding his hand while Arthur carried his basket in front of him. 

The sun peered at the tribe, protected from her glare less than usual given that the large leaves of some of the trees had not regrown just yet. As they kept on going down the beaten path, Alfred couldn’t help but watch the forest floor for signs of growth, given that he’d really only been to the training grounds and the camp, and not much farther. Where he’d seen wildflower bushes and rushing water a few moons ago, there were only light snow patches and a trickle down the stream, but that didn’t seem to put a damper on the Sept’s mood despite the occasional splat of mud from an overly excited step. Alfred caught snatches of conversation, about where the fledglings wanted to go after the first patrols had been assigned, what kind of prey the Omegas were looking forward to hunting first, guesses from the Alphas whether the Clan would find some way to fight with them before the spring was finished. 

“Territory’s looking…kinda wet, actually,” Alfred said. “Uh…is everything going to be alright, in the place where we meet the direwolf? We didn’t bring any chairs or anything…”

“It’s always dry, compared to the rest of the territory. Perhaps it’s because it’s protected mostly by a canopy of trees from the rain and the snow and how it slopes downwards into a concave, but what do I know? It might be a blessing from the gods.”

“Maybe,” Alfred replied. His heart beat faster in his chest, in time with the basket being held by his mate thumping against his legs. “You, uh, need help with that?”

Arthur scowled, but there was a gentleness to how he brushed away Alfred’s arm. “Since yesterday, you’re the hero of the tribe, and I know you’re exhausted, given how you snored like a bear last night. Take some rest.”

“Hey, it’s just a basket!”

“I’m telling you to enjoy yourself today!” Arthur called after him, moving up the procession of Sept members. Alfred barely stopped himself from running after him; after all, his mate probably had a good reason, and the Omega had his own friends to talk to. He’d have to get used to it when Arthur was placed into the formal hunting rotation with the others.

Once they’d arrived at the clearing, the party was in full swing. The clearing was flanked with trees and regrowing flower bushes, red and yellow and orange buds staining the new leaf, and tarps had been placed down for the Sept to sit on. Alfred was immediately called to help set up the surroundings for the rest of the tribe, and he only managed to catch sight of Arthur with Dietrich and Francis before he was swept away with his duties. 

I’d ask you to wish me luck, Arthur thought as he watched Dietrich’s expression at the herbs he’d brought, but I wouldn’t want you to worry.

“So you’ve been working on this idea since the winter?” 

“Yes,” Arthur said, and he retold the incident with the blood red squirrel. 

“I see,” Dietrich said. “Are you sure there will be no adverse effects with any of these herbs?”

“There’s no danger with the dosages we have. Even if we increase them tenfold, the only adverse effect would be a slight stomach ache.” The Omega shifted his bundle of herbs to the side. “The poppy seeds might be the most dangerous part of all, but that’s it, and even then, the side effect would only be putting the ingester to sleep.”

“Why’s that there?”

“To make it so that the animal doesn’t have to suffer. I wouldn’t want to upset the balance of nature by making them needlessly suffer.”

“Hm.” Dietrich’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he inspected the fragrant bundles once more. “So your proposal is to place these in our usual hunting spots before a patrol comes?”

Arthur nodded. “After finishing their outward journey, on the way back to the camp, they’ll leave them there. It’s a much, much safer prospect than the poisons.”

The leader glanced over the samples once more, then looked at Francis and Arthur.

“I will say, I did not expect you to settle with never using your healer skills again,” he said. “However, this is outside the boundaries of your previous duties, and I think it’s a good proposal. I’d be prepared for you to try it with the other Omegas. Good work.”

Arthur blew out a breath he’d been holding, while he saw out of the corner of his eye that Francis’s shoulders had relaxed. He’d not been expecting praise.

“Do we need to bring the basket back?”

“Not for now. I’ll talk it over with Francis and some of the other Omegas, see if they’d be willing to implement this in their routines. In the meantime, I’ll permit you to try it out when you hunt solo.”

“Yes. Of course, Dietrich.”

“I’m glad you’re putting in your energy towards the Sept more,” the leader said as Arthur turned to go back to Alfred. “Keep maintaining your focus on the tribe.”

With a curt nod, Arthur left down the small slope to where the rest of the Sept was gathered, his shoulders far lighter than before.

“So this is it, huh?”

Arthur nodded, sitting down next to Alfred, sans basket. He got a gentle peck back in greeting. “It’s meant to be a momentous occasion. Usually, it’s meant to lift up everyone’s spirits after a harsh four moons of winter. But given that we had to go through a shorter winter this cycle of the moon, there’s less need for that…but everyone’s glad to experience it anyway.”

“Good food, spending an afternoon off, what’s not to like?”

“If you dislike the rest of the Sept,” Arthur snorted mid sentence, “it might be a bit horrible. Though the food definitely sweetens the deal.”

“Your friend - uh, Francis, is off doing work, right?” 

“Yours as well. Given that Toris has Vilnius, I’m sure he doesn’t need to be dragged near the center of the group again like last cycle, because he was almost certain to get a direpup himself. I’m sure he’s glad for the break.”

The mated pair sat in silence for a moment, taking in the loud bustle of their septmates, the backs of their heads blurring together as they came and went, the aroma of the meal. 

“Do…do you think it’s true?” Alfred couldn’t help but blurt out. 

“Hm? What is?”

“That my coming was a good omen. For the lighter winter, and maybe…I don’t know. People have been saying that because it was raining when I finished fixing the elders’ den with the others…maybe more?”

Arthur’s eyes darted from side to side, then angled his body closer to Alfred’s. “What - have you heard more of these rumours? I’ve heard nothing yet.”

“It was from the elders…”

“Oh.” Arthur winced, his thick eyebrows furrowing. The Omega chanced a quick glance at the elders, sitting near the back of the knoll, given that only fledglings and full-fledged members of the Sept were eligible to be chosen by direpups. “It’s…I’ve not been with them much, given that they still probably resent me more than you, but was it from the other day? When you were fixing their den?”

“I heard it in passing, yeah. Seems like it’s now spreading around. Have you received any confirmation by omens?” Alfred couldn’t hide the hope in his voice.

To his dismay, Arthur shook his head, though his eyes softened against the new buds of foliage behind him. “You know I’m not qualified to receive visions any longer.”

“Oh, I uh…” Alfred bit his lip. “Shoot, sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“No, it’s all right. Even when I was still a healer, I knew that being an Omega, there was a chance the gods would refuse to speak to me. I laid awake for many hours in my nest worried that it would come true, before I received my first vision. Now, it seems as if they’ve followed Dietrich’s ruling.” Arthur’s smile was rueful, and Alfred couldn’t help but reach out, putting his hand on top of his mate’s. “Thank you. But I don’t think I need a vision to confirm what’s important. And neither should you.”

“What’s that?”

“That you’re fitting in with the Sept. That people regard you well enough to believe such a positive rumour about you - or at least, let it spread. Unless you don’t want it to.”

Alfred shook his head. “It’s a good thing, right? There’s no reason for me to stop a good thing.” 

“There you go. I was just worried you’d be averse to more attention.”

“Not like this. I, uh - it’s never been like this before. It’s actually kinda nice. I’m getting along with the others when we do our duties, and the other fledglings don’t avoid me like some kind of sickness, now it’s been awhile since our mating. I think Toris might want to give me a final assessment soon, because he’s been talking with me about how he wants as many hands as he can get for the spring.”

“I’m glad for you.”

“And I have you to come back home to, every night.” Alfred’s hand gave Arthur’s smaller one a gentle squeeze. It was sometimes difficult to be vulnerable; it made his chest knot and the squeeze on his heart tighten, but when they were alone like this, it was easier. Especially with the way his mate was looking at him now. “I don’t know. I try to not miss you every day when I go training with Toris, but it’s hard. One of the other Alphas with a mate said it’s hard the first moon or so, but it’s been four moons and I still can’t stop missing you.”

“...it’s not easy for me, either,” Arthur mumbled under his breath. His scent wavered slightly in Alfred’s nose. “I still hunt by myself most days. In the winter, it’s cold, and, well. I’m alone.”

The image of Arthur in the snow, his bow and arrow poised but no target to sink the flint into, flanked by rows and rows of trees that glared down at him, made Alfred’s chest hurt. 

“Sweetheart…”

Arthur didn’t even notice his own face drooping, and instead did his best to lift his frown. 

“That’s a new one.”

“Do you like it? C’mere.”

“I- Alfred-” Arthur sputtered as the Alpha brought him into his chest, surrounding him with his scent. He gently helped Arthur away from where the rest of the Sept were gathered - his mate deserved as much privacy as he could get when he was sensitive like this. “It's all right.”

“It’s not, you’re lonely, and…you’re not surrounded by people. There’s not much you can do until the current rotation finishes, right? And you’re gonna have to train again to hunt with the others…and you’re still worried the others hate you.”

“I don’t worry, it’s fact.” Arthur adjusted his thick collar, looking away. “You had to get away from the Clan. Everyone knows how cruelly you were treated, and can’t help but sympathise. But I’m the Omega traitor who took a Clan mate before he became Sept. I was the one who chose-”

The sadness turned to anger where it had been thickening Alfred’s throat, but he held himself back. The people he’d been interacting with the past four moons or so did not sound nearly like what Arthur was telling him - they could have been disallowing themselves to speak like that in front of Alfred, but it would only be a matter of time before it got back to him. Would he be a true Sept member if he chose to jump to such conclusions so quickly?

“Arthur?”

“Yes?”

“Who said this?” 

“...I don’t know. Perhaps the elders, if not the others. I- I just feel like that’s what they perceive me as. Is it- am I wrong?”

“Forget the whole Clan and Sept thing, for a moment.” Alfred held out his arms, and to his surprise, Arthur crawled into his lap, accepting the comfort of his mate behind the bushes of the clearing, the fresh scent of new leaf masking them. 

Thank the gods no one’s been treating you like that, or I’d flay them.

Voicing his own thoughts seemed to neuter his mate’s usual fire, and he held Arthur close, one hand trailing down his body to stroke his back. “Arthur, hey…”

“I’m glad you’re settling in so well, it’s just-” Arthur took a shuddering breath. “What if the other Omegas don’t want to hunt with me, or include me in their rotation? What am I supposed to do then? I like hunting by myself, but it’s just with the season, it’s been very quiet, and I’ve felt I’ve not spoken to many people - or at least, enough. And there’s you.”

Alfred rested his tongue slightly on the top of his mouth, keeping his words as soft as possible. “Me? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, while you’re still training with Toris.” Arthur’s arms tightened around his own chest. “You’re doing your part, and I need to do mine.”

“Doing ‘my part’ is being at your side. I’m distracted, and spending time training with him, because if I train with the others, I might get territorial with you. You hunt by yourself, because…”

“Because I’m good at it. But I think I feel their eyes on me - all of them, when I give whatever I can catch to the Alphas at the cooking area, whenever the Omega patrols pass me by, whenever I catch myself going back to the medicine den before nighttime.” Arthur’s breathing was thin and heaving as he spoke, his shoes sinking deeper into the dirt. “I worry, Alfred. I know - somehow, I can understand that my own fears aren’t- they’re not actually saying this. But I don’t know. I- I’ve always been outside of the main Sept fold, with Francis and the others. Now I have to return…what if they don’t accept me? What if they only liked me because of the fact that I could serve as both healer and hunter?”

“You’re the only person in generations and generations to be good enough to heal and hunt. And you’re not forgetting that anytime soon. No one’s gonna lose their respect for you just like that. If a tribe of people who know I’m Berwald’s bastard son are beginning to accept me, then they’ll welcome you back into the fold when you return.”

“Still, what if? They’ll be staring…it’ll be-”

“That’s fine. Some people still stare at me, though I’ve been here for three, almost four moons, I think. Maybe we’re a little weird and out of the norm, which is true, but when’s that ever mattered to you, huh? My proud, smart, brilliant Arthur.”

Arthur folded his arms and looked away with a huff, but Alfred could scent his smell losing the acidic tang it had bore. The spring sun drew tiny dapples across his claiming bite as he turned, and Alfred couldn’t help but nuzzle there, using his lips in a circling motion until Arthur moved back towards him.

“...idiot.”

“Anything I can do to make it better?”

Arthur pressed his hands into his face. “Urgh - forget it. Ignore me. I’ll get over it.”

“Hey, that’s not fair, I want you to talk about it with me,” Alfred made a soothing noise, interlacing his arm with Arthur’s slenderer one, wrapping his mate deeper into his arms. “Talk to me.”

“Alfred, it’s…it’s foolish. I know I don’t work well with people as much as you do, and so-”

“But even before all of this, they wanted to work with you, right? But your schedule was too busy for you to not hunt by yourself. Now your schedule’s going to align with theirs, they’ll want you on your hunting team.”

“I don’t know that,” Arthur said, but Alfred saw his shoulders begin to relax, though his words were still muffled by his hands. There was something very, very cute about his reassured, brash mate curling on himself like this, Alfred realised as he gently reached for Arthur’s hands. “Don’t…”

“But you know I have a point, right? You’ve not got the chance to see it for yourself yet, but now the spring is here, there’ll be more chances yet.”

“...yes.” Arthur sniffled once. The strong planes of his face contorted as he bent lower, resting his elbows on his knees.

Alfred let out a sigh, smiling. The Omega was good at many things, but being open with his emotions and allowing himself to be vulnerable was not one of them.

“All right, sweetheart. Is there anything I can do, like I said before?”

“...that.”

“Huh?”

“I wouldn’t mind if you called me that…” Arthur mumbled, spreading his fingers slightly so his green eyes, so rarely delicate and lined with tears as they were now, sent a bolt straight through Alfred’s heart. “It’s…just for a little while.” 

“Something that simple, huh? You shouldn’t have to ask.”

“Alfred-”

“Sweetheart,” the Alpha murmured into his ear, pulling Arthur’s damp hands away and holding them to his chest, “everything’s gonna be okay.”

“That’s enough- sniff, I didn’t-”

Alfred’s hands ran across the formidable landscape of Arthur’s back, honed from cycles and cycles of his skilled use of the bow, taking in the ridges of his muscles. “Let me spoil you, okay? I know how much you want to be loved on, so as your mate, it’s my most important duty.”

“We have to get back to the pactmaking,” Arthur protested, though Alfred felt his back lean into his touch. “It’s best they not think we’ve slipped away.”

“But we have. Wouldn’t be the first time, huh?”

Arthur snorted, shaking his head as the sound came from his lips. “Not the last, either, I’ll dare say.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

The Omega did his best to blink away his tears, and he leaned closer, though his voice caught when he tried to speak.

The Alpha was immediately at his side. “Shh, shh,” he murmured, lifting Arthur’s pale face upwards and kissing at both corners of his eyes, slowly, so his mate felt his embrace, “take your time.”

Alfred could watch him for the rest of his life - the way the faint, dappled sunlight played on his strong cheekbones, lighting up the bottom of his eyes, the soft part of his lips, his pheromones swirling in his nose. The Alpha could eat him up, and he almost did when he heard Arthur’s breath tremble slightly before he spoke. 

“I’ve been thinking about something the past few moons - a plan, sort of. But I’m not sure if I can tell you now.”

Faintly, Alfred spoke. “Is it the thing you were talking about with Dietrich and Toris?”

“Yes. It seems good for now, but I’ll explain. When we’re more alone.”

“Okay,” Alfred took Arthur’s arm, pulling him close. His Omega resisted slightly, but once Alfred guided his head to nestle against his neck, taking in the scent there, Arthur gave in.

“Sit with me a little, I miss you.”

“Who’s the idiot who spent most of his time last quarter moon repairing a den?” Arthur snarked back, yet he nuzzled against Alfred’s neck. “F-fine.”

Alfred would have been content to sit there until the end of the next moon, and he suspected Arthur would as well, but after a few minutes, a commotion rose up between the crowd of septmates.

“That’s the progenitor wolf,” Arthur whispered in his ear, untangling himself from him, and Alfred leaned forward to look.

In the Clan, things were different. On the moonrise of the winter solstice, Berwald would leave the Clan camp to venture outside their borders whilst everyone else would retire to bed early. The process and location of the meeting with their progenitor wolf was strictly confidential, passed down from leader to leader only. Then, before the Clan rose for the day, he would return with their progenitor wolf and however many puppies she granted the tribe that cycle and place them in the kennels, where all fledgling and full-fledged Omegas of the Clan would rest in the den for the night. Whichever Omegas had direpups next to them in the morning were deemed chosen by them.

Now that the progenitor wolf had arrived, her direwolf scent rolled off her in waves. Given that the kennels were only really visited by Alphas with mates, it took awhile for Alfred to place - she blended in too well with the leafy ferns and the lingering residue of rain.

“Does she have a name?”

“No, just her title as progenitor. Given that she has roamed these woodlands for moons before we humans have, it would be disrespectful for us to bestow her a name.”

“Huh. That’s the same as the Clan.”

As the Sept watched, collectively holding its breath, the progenitor wolf emerged from the thickets. Bearing dark silver fur that seemed to be laced with the moon itself, she towered over the seated tribe, each pawstep sending vibrations as they touched the grass. With piercing green eyes spilling over with wisdom and a long, thick tail that stirred the earth beneath her, Alfred held his breath at the sight. As she walked past the tribe, everyone bent their heads, and he found himself following suit. 

As the Alpha looked up slightly, he saw tiny shadows underneath her paws, barely visible under her fur, keeping stride with her. The direpups?

The progenitor wolf walked up to where the tribe had constructed a leafy nest for her, then paused, nosing around her own sides. Seven sets of little paws trotted out, yet as they emerged from the progenitor wolf, they seemed to grow in size, reaching Dietrich’s calf with their small, fluffy ears.

A collective rush came from the crowd.

“Seven this cycle?”

“That’s…that’s a miracle.”

Alfred saw an elder look directly at him before Dietrich spoke to the direwolf.

“Great progenitor wolf, we are all gathered today at your beckoning from the first rain of the spring,” Dietrich began, his voice filled with reverence. His pelt did not slip from his shoulders as he knelt. “Do you wish to grant us-” he did a quick count, “seven of your brood?”

With a tilt of her neck, the she-wolf used her muzzle to tilt the direpups forward, then nodded once. Momentarily, she opened her mouth in a yawn, revealing sharp, formidable fangs. When all seven of the direpups were clear of her, she sat down on the nest, licking their muted, colourful pelts as they frolicked around her paws.

“S-So what happens now?” Alfred asked Arthur, his voice hushed as he saw the rest of the tribe rising back to their feet. 

“The direpups will be spending a few more moments being taken care of by her. Saying their goodbyes,” Arthur replied, his voice equally quiet. “Then they’ll seek their new partner by themselves.”

“Saying goodbye, huh?” Alfred echoed his words. 

Had his bearer ever said goodbye to him like this, before he left him and Berwald? Ruffled the top of his head, like the she-wolf was grooming the cheek fluff of her puppies, who didn’t seem to want to leave her just yet? The Alpha could scarcely remember anything about his bearer or the night that he left, other than the scent of mint and the hug he had given him. 

And yet, he felt warmth bubble up in his chest as he saw the puppies frolic around the progenitor wolf. In one way or another, he had been loved and cared for just like they had. 

“What are you squeezing my hand for all of a sudden?” Arthur huffed, though he didn’t sound the least bit cross. “Don’t worry, they’ll be in good hands.”

“Does it matter which order the direpups choose their owners? Like last cycle?”

“Last cycle, the progenitor wolf only granted us the one direpup-”

“Vil, right?”

“Yes, her. The folktales do say that the first direpup who chooses a partner- Look, there they go now.” Arthur pointed out a grey-flecked pup, bounding out of the huddle of puppies. Her eyes were so vivid a shade of blue that Alfred had to blink twice to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the light. 

She stretched slightly, her tail wagging slowly from side to side as she took in the rows of humans around her. Yet she did not linger for long, trotting between the septmates, jaws parted for scent, row after row after row until she came parallel to where Alfred and Arthur were sitting on the grass.

Alfred saw Arthur peer to their right, where a few others were sat next to the direpup and he followed suit, but something in the air felt strange. Their pheromones felt distinctly Omega in their nature, and even though no Omega’s scent would ever feel as alluring and potent as Arthur’s, he could scent it right away.

“There’s no one else on this row,” Arthur said quietly. He was looking at Alfred.

The Alpha heard the quash of dirt underneath the direpup’s paws, and as they made eye contact, he could hear her breathing. Those electric blue eyes bore into his, full of life, and as she stopped right in front of him, Alfred had a urging to give her his open palm, facing upwards.

Without hesitation, the direwolf pup pushed her small, wet nose into his palm, withdrawing quickly. She gave his hand a lick, then sat back on her haunches, as if she were waiting.

“She’s chosen you,” Arthur murmured, spellbound. Alfred looked up for a moment and saw that everyone in the Sept, Dietrich included, was watching him. “You’ve accepted her bond, by letting her make contact with your hand.”

Alfred could only nod uncertainly, giving the little pup a stroke behind her ears, like he’d seen Toris do when he brought Vilnius with them on their training sessions. “What does-” his tongue tripped over his teeth, “what should I do?”

“Give her a name. It’ll be bad luck if you don’t do it now.”

A name? Alfred’s chest tightened, and he felt like he was plunging through the tall pine trees that flanked the Sept camp. He didn’t know what to choose - hadn’t even thought he’d be chosen - and so didn't have a list of possible names on hand. Casting his mind back in those hurried seconds, he thought about Matthew, who had named Kuma after his unique white pelt, and Toris, who had told him when they were chatting that he’d named Vilnius after an old Sept legend, a tale of a fierce progenitor wolf whose howl had carried across hundreds of lakes. 

Then it came to him. The direwolf pup’s head tilted slightly, and her eyes caught the colour of the red bulbs flanking the clearing, turning the sides of her eyes to violet. The star-shaped flowers Arthur had crushed into the medicine that had healed them the first day they met…its name…what was it-

“Hey, Laurentia,” Alfred murmured, keeping his touch gentle as he pet the top of her downy fur. At the invocation of her name, the direpup barked excitedly, running circles around her new partner. She tripped over her huge paws to crawl onto the Alpha’s lap, sniffing at his knees. “Come here - meet my mate, Arthur.”

The rest of the pactmaking ceremony flew past, but Alfred wasn’t able to pay much attention to it. He had a direwolf, who was excitedly nosing at his hand, then immediately moving to nip playfully at his mate’s. Even Arthur’s expression had softened, petting her as much as he was. 

“I named her after you, you know,” he said quietly, as the next pup was finding their owner within the crowd. 

“What do you mean?”

“Laurentia. From the star-shaped flower you used to heal me, the first day we met.”

“From the…oh.”

“I wasn’t quite sure what to name her in the moment, so. I thought of you.” Alfred felt his cheeks soften at Arthur’s slight flush. “You saved me, like usual.”

Arthur’s gaze was cast in surprise. “You still remember? From - from that day?”

Alfred looked around to make sure no one could see - well, that they were hidden enough, because there would be eyes on him no matter how long he waited now - then pressed a kiss to his mate’s forehead, pulling him and Laurentia close.

“I’ll always remember those days, in the cave. I’ll never forget how I met you.”

It had been a half moon since spring had arrived in the tribal territories. Her evergreen hand had swept over the forest and the plains, steeping the ground in viridescent earth, cradling away with her the dissipating snow, replacing the frost with flowers. 

Arthur had been doing much better after the pactmaking ceremony. The same afternoon that Laurentia had become Alfred’s direwolf, he’d waited for his mate outside the Omegas’ den as he talked with the other hunters about the upcoming rotation and the plan he had been talking about earlier on. The Alpha wasn’t sure what happened and knew that it wasn’t his place to ask, but Arthur seemed happier than the Omega he had been before he’d confided in Alfred about his troubles, even smiling as he came outside of the den and into his arms. 

A quarter moon into spring, construction had started on an additional den specifically for existing mated pairs for the growing Sept, and Alfred had done his part. Arthur had started hunting patrols that same quarter moon, and so it was one of the best ways he could have distracted himself from the sudden, almost daily loss of his mate for hours on end. 

Still, there was Laurentia to cheer him up. Alfred wasn’t sure and he could only guess, but given that there were no challenges to his direpup partnering with him and no sort of disagreement whatsoever, the situation with the elders’ den had truly cemented him as part of the tribe. Even better still was seeing his direpup play with Vilnius, the two she-wolves’s favourite pastime being play-fighting, though Alfred and Toris noticed that the older she-pup was much gentler with her little friend. Now, the two Alphas patrolled together three days a quarter moon, returning before sundown to do some more training, their direpups barking and running around their ankles when they returned to camp. An added bonus of being temporarily housed in the medicine den was that Alfred could sneak Laurentia into with him, Arthur snickering when his mate told him (“Francis says ‘no direwolves' in the den, but I’m sure he won’t find out.”). When Francis found out less than a day later, both Alpha and Omega were sorely scolded. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring Laurentia,” Arthur snarked as soon as Alfred arrived, pulling the Omega into his arms - the Alpha had been out earlier that day and had missed the afternoon meal. “What’s all this about?”

“Nah, I took her with me on patrol today, so she’s sleeping in the dens. You have duties today?”

“No, I’m off rotation until tomorrow. It’s - might as well, after the pactmaking. Let’s be off.”

Taking a glance between them, though not nearly as guarded as before given that they did not have to sneak around any longer, they left the camp, making their way through a thicket to the heart of the forest territory.

“You must be relieved that your mentor doesn’t have to run his feet off with work and training you today.”

Alfred looked sheepish at that. “Y-Yeah. I hope to finish my fledglingship as soon as I can, so I can start serving my tribe. With my direpup.”

“You’ve already been serving your tribe, with the whole den construction and whatnot. The progenitor wolf chose you to care for Laurentia. You don’t need a sign from me, or from the gods - you are a part of the Sept. The progenitor wolf would not have entrusted the care of her pup to you if you weren’t.”

“I kind of wish that you could have one, too,” Alfred confessed. “Like how Matthew does. Then we could roam the forest together, something like that…wouldn’t it be nice?”

Arthur tried to hold in a snort. “You’re very kind, but the progenitor wolf has been choosing Alphas for cycles even beyond our imagination. Even if she were to divert her course and pick an Omega, that would not be me by any stretch. She picks people that can take good care of her pups and thrive with them, not a solo hunter that’s aloof and prefers to work alone. And with the thing I’m trying out tomorrow, with Dietrich and Francis’s approval, it’s best I not have too many young animals with me.”

“Mm, that was the thing you were talking with them about during the pactmaking?”

Alfred’s hand slid possessively down Arthur’s forearm, cupping the sensitive skin, and the Omega felt a shudder through his system. Alfred being openly able to hold his hand, the two of them wandering through the forest…it was more than he dared dream of.

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, but it was only that day that I dared to breach the idea to Dietrich. He’s happiest during the day of the pactmaking, and I’ve been working excellently this winter. So I thought, if he didn’t mind, he’d let me try something new before joining the rotation.” 

“Go on.”

“It’s…you might not want to hear it, being the new caretaker to a direwolf. But it’s something…I don’t know. I feel like it might be more humane than hunting, in some way. When I was- Remember the day you spoke to Matthew?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“Before then, I was on my usual route, when I noticed a squirrel. A rather inconspicuous one, really, but I noticed before I could take it down it was eating weeping lily petals. After that day, I asked Francis about it, and he confirmed that we rarely see those flowers around. The winter wind must have carried it away.”

“But the weeping lily…there was a tree outside of our cave, wasn’t there?”

Arthur’s eyes lit up with mirth, and the Omega was certain his mate could scent it. “Yes, exactly,” he said. “Now, I don’t know if it's a coincidence or a sign, but they were the same. I doubt they’re from the same tree, but…that was what the squirrel was eating before it died. Either the shape, or the scent, must have lured them close. I have permission to test out my theory, that the weeping lilies are poisonous to them, this quarter moon. If I’m right, then I’ll add a poppy seed to numb any potential suffering, and it would be much less painful than some of the hunting traps we’ve used in previous seasons. There would be no chance of any unsuspecting humans getting hurt with them unlike the traps, either. And for larger prey, we could experiment - increase the dosage, find other herbs that are incompatible with them, something like that. It might not even work. But it’s another way of catching prey. What do you…” he had to pause for breath out of excitement and the fond look Alfred was giving him, “what do you think?”

“So it’s you using your healing skills in another way?”

Arthur nodded. “To put it simply, yes. I’m not sure - I wouldn’t bank on Dietrich reassigning me to my role, not for at least a dozen cycles. I’m sure he thinks it’s important to enforce the rules of no inter-tribe relationships from here on out. Francis is young, and with the spring will come more children. Once there’s a Beta child born, there’s practically no need for my skills, but I still want to contribute to the Sept. It would be a waste to not use all my knowledge, so I want to try this. It’s only a start, but…it’s something.”

One thought connected to another in Alfred’s mind - it was comical how his mate’s eyes lit up when he thought like that - and he put his hands together. “Wait, so if we need to get more weeping lilies for the traps…who’s going to get them?”

“Well,” Arthur kept his voice coy, turning a slow half circle around his Alpha. “The few trees we have in our camp are flowering again now, but until we find more herbs that can work, we’ll have to stick to weeping lilies. And only you-” he placed an open palm on Alfred’s chest, now clothed only by a white tunic given that the cold had subsided, “and I know a place where we can find them.”

“Wait - we’re going back to the cave?” Alfred’s face bloomed into a smile.

“Only sometimes, mind you. I’ve just gotten back into Dietrich’s good books again, and we’ll definitely be on a tight time schedule. But we can be alone, for a little while again. Sometimes.”

“Y-Yeah. There’s still…there’s still some things we need to go and get back, from when we left after our mating. But we can be alone.”

“Your heart’s pounding awfully hard,” Arthur murmured, keeping his tone soft and his hand on Alfred’s chest. He took one step forward and felt Alfred’s hand wrap tightly around his waist. “What is it you want to tell me?”

“I’m looking forward to being back there. Being alone with you. I like the Sept and all, but I joined to be with you in a sense, yeah? So if we can get some alone time, some privacy…” Alfred’s grip trailed lower and lower until Arthur was sure his own breath would recede, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“You don’t need privacy to tell me your feelings, you know.”

“Hm…maybe.” Alfred’s grin turned playful. “Maybe we should give it a try.”

Arthur placed his lips on top of his in a ghost of a kiss as he spoke. 

“My enemy, my lover. My mate. My Alfred.”

“Yeah,” Alfred murmured thickly. His fingers skittered over the bone of Arthur’s chin. “Thank you for letting me walk with you, sweetheart. My Arthur.”

The Alpha pulled his Omega so close that their noses brushed, then Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred, locking him closer. He didn’t let him go as the two of them walked into the forest on their way home, never to be parted again. 

Chapter Text

“One more time, Al.” Toris steadied his sword and his breathing, then tilted the edge of his blade, letting it catch the daylight. “Come at me.”

Alfred took one breath, then ran forward. 

Usually, their practise fights would be a bit of a call and response - now that Alfred’s way of fighting had been actually refined, and in the Sept way, too, Toris had started getting comfortable enough to talk during their sessions.

“Tell me,” the deputy always called to him at the start, “what are your strengths?”

“I’m impossibly strong - uh, stronger than most!” Alfred yelled out.

“What shouldn’t you do while you fight?”

“Be something that I’m not!”

From that, the dialogue would change depending on how Alfred was doing that day - another testament to the deputy’s skill and prowess. But no, today he was silent, watching Alfred’s movements closely, as today was the test to see if Alfred was prepared for the final exam that would take him from fledgling to full-fledged. 

The Alpha raised his sword, aiming to strike at Toris’s leather shoulder pad, but the deputy moved nimbly away, ponytail bobbing behind him. Now it was the summer and heat had blanketed the forest, it was almost myopically short - but Alfred had to concentrate and not think about a mouse.

Damn it, I’ve been using that one on him during practise the entire spring, I should have known better…

But he’s on his feet, moving. I don’t have to best him, I can’t…but I need to show him I can fight for the tribe in battle.

Toris’s sword came glancing off Alfred’s own blade, interrupting his thoughts. Something Alfred had learned throughout these moons of training was that dodging moves was mostly pointless - his broad shoulders had grown stronger with the weeks and weeks of hard work and good feeding, and so he’d finally managed to fill his frame out. Being a big, bulky target…there was either parrying or reflecting the hit.

Alfred tensed, focusing his strength along the hilt of his blade, then pushing back out as soon as he heard Toris’s front foot leave the ground, knocking the deputy off-center. The wind seemed to give way slightly as Alfred parried the hit, and he took that moment of clarity to push the attack once more.

Still, the deputy was not going to let him get a hit on him that easily, and so as much as Alfred tried, Toris dragged his blade against and managed to twist away. The usually gentle face that he always had around camp had shifted deep into battle.

Being slenderer and shorter than the average Alpha, Toris had agility that Alfred could only wish he had. For each swing of Alfred’s sword he managed to pull off, Toris could in that same time figure out how to repel and reciprocate the attack. So how…

Maybe I could try again, like I did last moon. 

Alfred focused once more, but instead of striking where Toris was, from the way the Alpha was leaning slightly to the right, he aimed for the spot in the sand where he guessed the deputy would go. Toris did indeed go right, but Alfred was sure the deputy had predicted that he would predict his next moves, so Alfred went a step further.

Making a deliberately large gesture of raising his sword so that Toris would think that Alfred really thought he’d strike, Alfred made his move, but as Toris continued pushing right instead of landing a hit on Alfred’s broad chest as he’d expected, Alfred switched the momentum of the sword so that it swung sideways instead of forward. 

Toris - hopefully that flash in his eyes was surprise instead of fear - did his best to duck, but Alfred dug his outermost foot into the sand, steadying his momentum so his turn didn’t make him lose his balance. It took half a rotation, but it was over so quickly he didn’t even notice.  

The dull thump of the side of his blade hit Toris’s leather breastplate, and with that, the duel was over. Alfred stabbed the end of his sword into the ground to catch his balance, leaving a deep gouge in the sand that would surely have to be kicked over later.

The two Alphas stepped backwards, panting, the raspy sound filling the hollow. Alfred wiped at his sweaty chest underneath his protective chest plate and Toris rocked slightly forward on his feet, hands on his knees. His short ponytail, thinner than usual for the summer, scraped against the back of his neck as he got up.

“Nice work,” Toris walked over to Alfred and squinted at the ground. “Finally got that overturn fixed.”

Alfred turned behind him and looked at the mark in the sand that his foot had left. While his finishing move used to leave a moderate scar, there was now a shallow half-circle in its place.

“You gave me half a fright there. You’re doing well with adapting to your strengths.”

Alfred panted happily. “Thanks, man. What’s next?”

“Next?” Toris raised his head to stare up at the sky while the two men pulled off their training gear; the sun had been beating down on them all afternoon. “Well, we’ll be going back after this. It’s getting late, and I don’t think we’ll need to spar again.”

“Huh?” Alfred stopped what he was doing, leaving half of his chest plate hanging awkwardly from his upper body. “Thought we were going a round without the armour like last week?”

“Getting late, and…I’ve seen all I need to see. You’re ready to be assessed.”

Alfred’s head poked up comically fast from where he had been trying to untangle himself from the leather. 

“Really?!”

“Well, yes.” Toris paused to wipe at his brow. His chest plate was already neatly folded over his arm. “I think you’re ready.”

“But - but it’s only been two seasons…”

“You already did most of the hard work of training in the Clan, and it would be unfair to make you train for double the amount of time when you’re ready to become a full-fledged Sept member.” Toris gave him a small smile then. 

“I - really? You mean it?”

“If you don’t feel ready, I can postpone it to-”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just - I just don’t want to let you down, y’know?” Alfred said, as the two Alphas cleaned up after their training session, making their way to the exit of the hollow.

“You’ve worked hard, Al; learned our ways. You deserve it. Some of the fledglings are being assessed this quarter moon which I’ll have to do, so let’s schedule it for the next.” 

“Got it. Am I gonna be assessed by you?”

“Dietrich agreed that he would do it himself.”

“O-Okay,” Alfred stammered, abruptly self conscious. He shook himself free of his chest plate, barely managing to catch it before it kissed the sand of the training hollow. “Next…next quarter moon. I can do it. Do we have to bring back the chest plates?”

“From the rack?” Toris looked over his shoulder. “Yes, we’ll need to free up the space for the fledglings' armour. Ours are already too big.”

“Okay.”

Alfred wasn’t sure how else to respond. Dietrich…assessing Alfred himself…the leader of his new tribe…

After Alfred had slotted his sword back into his belt - Dietrich had allowed him to wield weapons outside of training by the end of the spring - and slung his chest plate onto his shoulder, the two Alphas headed through the forest, which was taking as long as it wanted to darken now.

“You think Vilnius and Renti are hungry by now?”

“Yes, our girls should be. But Laurentia will be hungrier than her older direwolf sister, I think.”

“Don’t you like Renti as a nickname? It’s cute, isn’t it?”

“I think Laurentia is a perfectly noble name,” Toris replied, tactful as ever, “and you might call her by that nickname from time to time, but I don’t think it’s respectful to call another septmate’s wolf by their nickname.”

“I said it was okay, wasn’t it? You’re so formal sometimes…”

That, at least, brought a smile to Toris’s face as they crossed the outermost tree line, recently replenished with a set of green marks against the trunks. 

“Yes, well, Al, I’m the deputy. And even then, you know how much more carefree around you I am compared to the rest of the camp.”

I’m smaller than the average Alpha, as you might have noticed, Toris had told him during one of their training sessions in the woods one afternoon.

Yeah. Has anyone ever bullied you or anything like that?

No, surprisingly. But there was…

Huh? What’s up?

Pff, it’s all right. It’s rather childish. Happened when I was young. We shouldn’t be discussing it-

C’mon, Toris, we’re friends, right? And it’s not like I’m gonna blab about it to the camp. 

When I was a fledgling. My sire told me about a bear in the woods, one that was born from a blizzard, that would hunt you down and eat you if you were alone in the winter. It scared me to death. That night, when I was asleep, he showed up in a nightmare…with snow white fur and violet eyes like my sire had said…and he teased me for being small, and that he would kidnap me away to his den…

Oh…that’s kinda scary, it sounds like a ghost…

I suppose…but then, when I became full-fledged, I’d learned it was just a story, and then - Alfred? Are you turning white? Are you - are you afraid of ghosts?

“Me too! I mean, I’m told I’m nice to everyone and that’s true,” Alfred shrugged his chest plate back up his arm as it was starting to slip, “but you’re my bestest buddy. The guy I’m closest to, I think.”

“Well, I’m honoured, and-”

“Not including Arthur, of course,” Alfred stammered. He felt two red blotches bloom on his cheeks, and he had to stare further in the distance, where the torches of the camp were already lit in preparation for the night.

Toris made a half-laugh, half-snort of a noise that echoed in the soupy summer air.

“H-Hey!”

“Al, I thought that part didn’t have to be said. When he left for the Gathering last moon with us, you sounded like you were seeing him for the last time-”

“C’mon, man, that’s not fair-”

“All of us heard, you know. I think you might have made a few fledglings envious.”

That got Alfred. He couldn’t help being proud of his love for Arthur, after all, despite the fact that Toris was doing it to mildly tease him…unless it was a subtle scolding. 

“Okay, maybe that’s - it’s pretty romantic. The gallant Omega saves the life of his devoted Alpha! Right?”

Before Toris could respond, though, the two Alphas heard the call of an Alpha patrol behind them, and paused their conversation.

Arthur held in his breath, observing the twitch of the deer’s ears. The leather of his glove strained against the smooth wood of his bow as he held the string taut. One more, and the hunt would be done for the day.

Usually, if he were by himself, he would have nocked another arrow against the string, and waited for the deer to turn around so he could have a better chance of aiming for the eyes. But ever since the frost of the winter had melted into spring and the flowers had bloomed into summer, Arthur had kept to his promise to Dietrich and trained with the other hunters in a group setting. 

A very faint rustling of the leaves caught his attention, and he exchanged glances with the hunter he was assigned to flank the deer with.

The Omega released the arrow, which found its mark, as it always did. With a cry, the buck stumbled forward, velvety antlers whisking the leaves, and the rest of the hunting team squirrelled down the trees, quick to end its pain. 

“Nice shot on the eye,” one of Arthur’s patrolmates said as she cleaned off her knife with two quick flicks and a wipe of her leather glove. “Back to camp, then?”

Arthur nodded. He still wasn’t good at fashioning his mouth into a smile, but he did his best. 

That sentiment alone was enough to sum up what he had been doing in the past six moons - his best. 

He’d opened up dialogue with the elders again, at Alfred’s recommendation, and it had somehow worked. He still felt distinctly as if they were eager to finish the conversation between them, and others didn’t thank Arthur like they used to when he was in the rotation to deliver meals, but the rest had largely returned back to normal in terms of relations. Given that his mate was the one who had led the effort to repair their den, which was still intact, that was fine. 

Francis had encouraged - read: forced - him to not forget what he had learned in terms of bedside manner coaching, and once Arthur had been put into rotations and trained for a few moons with the other Omegas, they had begun to treat him like one of their own again. 

It seemed that Alfred’s popularity, coupled with his compelling story to the success of the Sept - a mistreated outsider who had finally found his place in the world in the clearly better enemy tribe - made it so the rest of the Sept were equipped to forgive Arthur. 

“Well, that was last winter, you know,” one of Arthur’s fellow Omegas had said nonchalantly when he’d asked her right after a hunt patrol they had. “When Alfred came in, people worried that he wouldn’t contribute, or live with a part of him in both the Sept and the Clan. Things like that. And he’s the son of the Clan leader, so there was that too. But no, he’s a cool guy. He does his part, works hard, is pretty chill to be around too. I don’t want - don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Dietrich wasn’t right to be careful, but after how he was treated in his birth tribe, I say those savages just gave us a competent, powerful Alpha. For nothing, really.”

She turned around to where Arthur was running a thumb over the flank of the venison they had been cleaning up for the Alphas on cooking duty that night.

“And in some way, you did the right thing, bringing him here. Don’t tell Dietrich that either. But do you think he would have survived much longer if you’d left him there?”

Arthur took a breath, then shook his head. 

“Even if he never met me…I don’t think so. Being constantly rejected like that…even the strongest person couldn’t stand that for much longer.”

“I think you’re a bit different now,” she said. “Less... I don’t know. Prickly. You were kind of hard to approach, when you were still partly a healer.”

Arthur winced, and opened his mouth, but she hadn’t finished.

“It’s nice, though. Hunting with you, as a fellow Omega, and learning about the prey-herb thing you taught us during the spring. Makes you feel more like part of the Sept, you know?”

“To put it simply,” Francis said when Arthur had asked him about his conversation with his fellow Omega during one of their many late afternoon chats. Even though he still wasn’t allowed to resume his healer work, as expected, there was nothing against him hanging around the healer’s den. Francis was sorting out wrapped bundles of honeycomb, freeing the basket that was now used for the herbs used for prey, while Arthur had yet to unload his two rabbits from his belt for tonight’s stew. If it weren’t for the fact that Arthur wasn’t allowed to do part of his old duties, and he now bore a claiming bite, it was as if nothing had changed at all.

“They think after all was said and done, you’ve done nothing wrong. Your mate became fast friends with the deputy and got himself the trust of a direwolf. There’s been good omens all year, and they all seemed to start from when you brought him back here.”

“I guess there’s not a stronger endorsement than being chosen by a direwolf two moons after you joined a tribe.”

“That’s on his side, at least. You were removed from your role and still you put in the effort…the episode is over, so to speak. And now you’re not out of the way in the healers’ cave, and actually interacting with others outside of treating them, it’s done some good for you too. And,” Francis strung up another herb packet as he spoke, “the herb initiative with the prey has been going well too.”

Arthur tried not to groan at that. Admittedly, it would have been a matter of time before the rest of the tribe put two and two together and figured out it was Arthur spearheading the initiative. Dietrich had ensured that when a hunter had a question or a concern about it, they would come straight to the Omega. Arthur didn’t mind the idea of being asked for advice, but in practice…

If not for the leader’s dedication and no-nonsense attitude, Arthur would have suspected Dietrich of placing all the duties on his shoulders. But in some way, the leader was giving him another pathway to re-integrate fully into the Sept, like a normal Omega should. What good was Arthur if his former Clan mate integrated better into the social fold of the Sept than he did?

Speaking of his mate… Arthur chewed at the inside of his mouth, scanning the crowd. Had he returned from his training session with Toris yet?

“Nice catch, Arthur,” someone said lightly as she filed into the camp behind him, and Arthur gave her a nod of acknowledgement, but soon enough, he was searching again. Something in his chest felt tight - they had only one moment together at the morning meal before he had gone away with the deputy to train, as usual. Perhaps it was because he was still trying his best and was older, but the sheer amount of training Alfred did put any fledgling Arthur had ever seen to shame. 

Arthur felt himself shaking his head, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned against the base of one of the smoothed rock faces that protected the healers’ den. My foolish mate. 

“Getting antsy?” Francis sang.

“S-Shut it.”

After watching the setting sun dip lower for a little, he decided that he wasn't much use to the tribe and Francis just standing there, and made his way to the meal preparation area, where he was thanked for his rabbits by the Alphas with a nod, then went to the entrance. By now, Alphas had begun lighting the torches for the returning Alphas and Omegas, drawing their long shadows against the path as they drew in.

“Arthur, could you give me a hand?” one of the Omegas he had hunted with last week gestured to the mouth of the squirrel he was carrying. “You know how to get them out?”

“They’re just herbs,” Arthur snorted. “You’ll be fine.”

“Show me how you do it again? I don’t know, it just looks so weird stuffed in there…will they let out poison if they chew it or something? Gross…”

Now he was no longer a healer, and therefore did not need to perform exceptional bedside manner, Arthur was free to roll his eyes. 

“We deal with blood on a regular basis. Pay attention,” he said, slinging his bow over his shoulder and going to where his septmate had gone off to the side, not wanting to disturb the trickling flow of people into the camp. “Open the mouth, watch the teeth, then just scoop it out. Place the leftover herbs in the basket near the medicine den. It’s nothing dangerous.”

“...okay, fair. But what if some bigger animal takes the herbs-”

“You’ll be fine,” Arthur nudged him towards the direction of the medicine den, where he could faintly see Francis mixing something near the entrance, probably ready to drop everything for the evening meal. “We hunt bigger game by ourselves, so it’s not an issue. Go.”

“Brrrr,” Francis teased - when he had come up to him, Arthur had no idea - and gave him a nudge. “Good thing we’re still too young to be considered for mentorship. I’d hate for you to get another knock to your ego if Dietrich doesn’t choose you for mentoring a fledgling next cycle of the moon.”

“We’ve had plenty of abrasive mentors, and I know I’m not that experienced, thank you very much,” Arthur huffed. “But when I get more experience under my belt, with hunting, I’ll definitely offer an excellent education for my fledgling.”

“Woe betide the poor Omega that has to learn under you…”

“Woe betide the poor Beta healer that has to pick up your slack!”

“Oh? Arthur-” Francis suddenly became animated, patting his friend’s shoulder. “I think you’re due.”

“Due? What-”

“See you at the evening meal,” the Beta said, nimbly excising himself from the situation. 

Arthur had only a few moments to look up before he scented Alfred - then immediately, his mate and Toris emerged from the tree line, carrying their equipment and talking in low voices. 

The deputy looked up, the torches from the camp lighting up his silhouette, yet it was Alfred who’d gotten there first. 

In the spring, when the two Alphas had conducted substantial training with their direwolves, there would be almost a race between Laurentia and Alfred to see which could get to Arthur first - Alfred always won, but once his direpup had started to droop her tail and scuffle at the dirt, he started slowing down from time to time. But now Laurentia and the other direwolves were fed shortly before dinner, there was just Alfred.

Alfred, who practically sprinted into camp, just to hold Arthur. 

Before he had met him out in the woods, Arthur hadn’t even thought of it, let alone desired it. But now…

“You’re late,” Arthur said softly. He could feel his own lips lift at the sight of Alfred’s blue eyes.

No sooner had the last word of his sentence trickled out of his lips had Alfred sprinted what felt like half the length of their territory to hold him close, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and nuzzling his neck, though careful to avoid his claiming bite.

“Oi - oi! Not in front of Toris-”

“I know what you’re trying to say, Arthur, right? Missed you too.”

“You’re still sweaty from training-”

“But you like it, don’t you?”

Arthur felt a hot flush against his cheekbones and knew the fight was lost.

“Go - go get washed up before the evening meal,” he offered as a weak retort. “I’ll see you there.”

Alfred only smiled wider as he withdrew, tangling his hand with Arthur’s expectantly.

“We’ve got some time before the evening meal, right?” his mate turned to Toris with a grin, and Toris and Arthur shared a weary nod.

“You’re off the rotation, so there’ll be a bit of time to kill. I expect you’d want to spend it together. I’ll put our equipment back this time.”

“You’re the best, Toris!” Alfred gave him a pat on the shoulder. “See you there.”

The deputy dipped his head to the both of them, and after Alfred had given him his gear, headed deeper into the camp, leaving Arthur and Alfred standing near the camp entrance. The last gaggle of curious tribemates and camp guards splintered off to prepare for the meal, and it was only after they had left before Arthur squeezed Alfred's hand back, letting himself huff at his mate.

“Are we sneaking out again tonight?”

Arthur bit back a snort. “Very eager, are you?”

“I’ve not seen you all day,” Alfred pouted as he spoke, bringing up their intertwined hand to his chest. “And I missed you. As always.”

“Fine - I can’t argue with that.”

Still, as taciturn and stoic as Arthur wished he was, he still couldn’t fight off a smile as Alfred brought him in for a kiss.

As night fell on the Sept, Alfred raised part of the lichen barrier he had helped construct with the other Alphas in the spring, helping Arthur kneel so he could step out. Alfred had made it so that it was hidden in such a place, constructed specifically near their den, just for their use. After all, surely every mated pair had their secrets.

“It’s getting harder and harder to squeeze through,” Alfred complained, though it quickly stopped once Arthur took his hand, and was far too obvious for it to not be deliberate.

Idiot, Arthur couldn’t help thinking as his mate emerged, his chiselled back facing the Omega as he tied the barrier shut again. You’ve never been subtle at all.

“That’s because someone trains like a rampaging bear, day in and day out. You’ve bulked up significantly since the winter. If Toris doesn’t scold you like he should, I’ll be the one to do it.”

“Ooh,” Alfred teased, getting back to his feet. “Scolding from Arthur, huh? You say that, but it’s really your words of love. And I’ll be scolding you more when I’m full-fledged and you’re hunting all day.”

“I’m very clearly scolding you,” Arthur snarked back as he shifted a bush with his wood-reinforced slab over the hole, extending his hand to help his Alpha up. Thankfully, they wouldn’t have to use a tunnel to access the clearing - it was a little ways from camp, but judging from the state Alfred had found it in, hadn’t been used regularly for some time. “There’s no pure words of love there.”

Arthur expected his mate to pout, or do something unfairly charming, but all he got was a squeeze of his hand back. In the clearing, the trees parted away for the new moon to peek into the gap, making it so there was no need for torches.

“It’s how you tell me you love me, in your own way.” Alfred’s hand was shyly adjusting his own belt, pulled taut against his bare chest, and Arthur couldn’t help but watch. The Omega still felt a little chilly; it would be midsummer before he could do the same. “Right? As in, if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t scold me.”

“I,” Arthur coughed, “I don’t…I - well, yes, I do care, but it’s not…you’re just-”

“It’s cute when you’re strangely embarrassed like this, having borne my claiming bite for two seasons now. C’mere, we’re alone now.”

“Well, you’ve borne my claiming scar.”

“Well yeah, that’s how mates work, don’t they?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

About to retort about how Alfred was very clearly mocking his way of speaking, something in his words made Arthur pause.

“One moment,” he said, as soon as they settled onto their familiar tree stumps, their knees brushing together. “Could you say that again?”

“Well yeah - ow-”

“Without the mocking exaggeration, thank you.”

“That’s how mates work…” Alfred let the word linger, confirming Arthur’s theory as he leaned close, “don’t they?”

“You’ve taken on the Sept way of speaking - our tones, whatnot,” Arthur said quietly, leaning closer also. Now it was so quiet, so peaceful. With the bloom of fireflies and without the lazy flicker of cicadas in the early morning, the little parcel of Sept territory seemed much more intimate. “You’ve - I can’t believe it. I’ve not noticed until now, that is.”

Alfred’s eyes sparkled, catching the light, reminding Arthur about the nights they’d spent in the cave. Like many times, just when the Omega thought it would finally be possible for him to get angry, Arthur’s heart melted. How could there be a place for arguments in a space like this?

“Really?”

“I - that’s not to say you’ve not retained your old tribe’s way of speaking to some degree,” Arthur said as Alfred gently tugged his face to his, their foreheads and noses brushing. Now they were so close, he had to lower his speaking volume so he wouldn’t hurt his Alpha’s ears, and even his own slow, soft words made him shiver. “But you sound more like us now.”

“But no one sounds like me when they’re telling you they love you, right?”

“No one will,” Arthur huffed. “And if anyone tries they’ll have some sense thoroughly knocked into them. Now,” he hooked his thumb into Alfred’s training belt, “how was your session with Toris today?”

Alfred blinked a few times before seemingly righting himself. “Oh! Oh, yeah. I meant to tell you - my assessment is next quarter moon.”

“Your assessment is - isn’t that important information?”

“Oh…yeah, maybe. But I wanted to spoil my mate first.”

Arthur huffed, but he let Alfred nuzzle the back of his neck, working his way behind the shell of his ear, met when he turned his head to attach his lips to his Alpha’s.

“Tell me if you need help with anything,” Arthur murmured against his warm lips, savouring his mate’s taste before his smitten image of Alfred was ruined when he started wolfing down the evening meal. “Anything at all.”

“Hey, I kinda like this Arthur,” Alfred leaned against him, and the Omega felt one of his hands sneak against Arthur’s back, steadying him. “Just kidding. You always do as much as you can with me. I like your sexy massages.”

“There is nothing sexy about my massages!” Arthur couldn’t help but hiss. “It’s…it’s just some leftover knowledge from my healer days.”

Alfred paused, his gaze dipping slightly, but then he quickly kept on talking.

“Not sexy, huh? So why do you kiss me when you knead my shoulders,” Alfred slowly moved forward, pushing his leg against Arthur’s until their bare skin touched, sneaking his fingers underneath Arthur’s hunting strap to place roughened fingertips against his chest, scrunching up the fabric, “kiss me when you place your thighs on either side of my body, kiss me when I flex my shoulders and moan…”

“Y-You’re the one moaning…”

“When my perfect mate kisses me like that, then finishes my massage by straddling me, kissing at the mating scar he made for me, then letting me nuzzle at his claiming bite…it’s sexy. And you didn’t do that for anyone else when you were a healer, huh?”

Arthur scoffed. “Absolutely not. Francis would have smited me out of the den for flirting, if I wasn’t sick from doing something so ghastly-”

He was about to continue when Alfred placed his free hand at the back of his head, tilting it slightly to give his Alpha access to his neck and his claiming bite. Alfred leaned forward, fitting his teeth gently into the marks he had left all those moons ago.

“Good,” Alfred’s breath was heated and heady against Arthur’s sensitised skin, “after all, you’re mine.”

The Omega felt a throb of desire travel down his stomach as his Alpha lapped gently at the mark, the ridges of his tongue etching against the bite. Abruptly, he felt bare - though it was appropriate for the season and he never felt underdressed, with Alfred caressing him like this, reminding them of their activities…

He felt distinctly vulnerable. 

Another place, now, that Arthur felt distinctly in tune with his Omega instincts: his mate, Alfred.

And there wasn’t anyone else he was more content to do it with.

“Y-Yes. Regardless, we’d better be going back-”

“Just a few more minutes…”

Chapter Text

“Psst. Psst, hey, Arthur.”

Something was nudging the tip of Arthur’s nose.

A little laugh. “Renti, you’re too close. Arthur? It’s time to get up now.”

“No,” Arthur grumbled, before even realising what he was grumbling about. Pinching between his eyes, he felt the curious warmth of a hand over his nose. The sweltering heat of the last strings of summer filtered down on his skin, and he didn’t want to get up. Somewhat paradoxically, it reminded him of how he’d burrowed deep into his bedding in the thick of winter, sharing Alfred’s heat, and-

A ghost of a kiss flitted over his forehead, and that was enough to get Arthur to open his eyes.

“Did you not get much sleep last night?”

“Come off it, Alfred,” Arthur grumbled sleepily. “Is it dark yet?”

Opening his eyes, he felt the heat of the sun on his eyelids, answering his own question.

“I finished collecting the rest of the weeping lilies. Put them in your pouch.”

“You’re too loud,” Arthur groaned, but made himself sit up. He felt a shudder run through his system as Alfred kissed at his fingers as he was opening the pouch they used for herb collecting. “Come off it!”

“You love it,” Alfred countered, taking his pinkie into his mouth and suckling gently, before pausing. “Wait, the lilies aren’t poisonous, are they?”

“I…they-” the Omega sputtered - there was no way he was reacting normally after Alfred had pampered him like that, and Alfred knew it. Playing innocent as ever…

“If they’re poisonous, then…” Alfred’s hands trailed teasingly against Arthur’s sides, and he felt the weight of his Alpha move behind him. “Maybe if I suck the poison out from your body, you’ll be okay, right?”

“W-What…and poison you, too?”

At that, Alfred seemed to actually think. 

“Oh - I guess that would be a problem. Not very sexy, huh…mouth to mouth doesn’t work with poisons, either…urgh.”

“Enough of your flirting,” Arthur sighed, though he arched into Alfred’s touch. “If we don’t get back in time, we’ll be late. They’ve already given us the entire day to harvest the flowers. And…we’ve already…”

Of course, Arthur normally wouldn’t be shy vocalising the fact that they had slept together, earlier that morning. As soon as they had scaled the slope leading to their cave, warmed by the waning spring and the giddiness of being fully alone together for a full day, they had mated in Alfred’s old makeshift nest, while Laurentia had run around freely outside. Arthur’s heat was not due for two full cycles of the moon, hence their elation.

Arthur’s heat had come and gone already, a half moon ago. Despite this, both Alpha and Omega had agreed that they wanted children, though they had also agreed to wait awhile before conceiving. And so they had both consumed dried pomegranate peel, the best contraceptive known to the tribes. Both Alpha and Omega had to consume it for it to work. When the Sept had struggled in its infancy, it was discovered but forbidden to use - however, as the Sept grew over the generations, its popularity and subsequent use had grown greatly. 

An unfortunate side effect was that the heat and rut was less intense, their pheromones dulled as a result of the medicine, but it was a small price to pay, and still far better than being away from the other. For both of them, it was enough - even though, biologically, the heat was ‘incomplete’.

The Omega thought it only right to rile up his mate, after all. So if playing coy, and pretending to be embarrassed to even utter the word sex would get Alfred hot and bothered…

Making sure that he could still hear Laurentia dashing around wildly outside of the cave, he arched his back into Alfred’s warm hand, whining a little to enhance the effect.

His mate’s pheromones spiked instantly.

“Arthur…” his voice was warm and honeyed, which got a real moan from Arthur this time, “we need to go back now, sweetheart. What?” He grinned at the clearly disappointed expression Arthur was sure he was giving him. “It’s getting late.”

“Well, all right. In that case we should-” the Omega hesitated, before he shook his head, trying to put all the arousal out of his head. Of course, things were not all right with the world - not yet, at least.

“You should take the herbs back to Francis. By yourself.”

Alfred frowned, though Arthur wasn’t quite sure why. “What’s wrong? Why can’t you take it?”

“Dietrich-” Arthur took a deep breath. “Dietrich doesn’t trust me. I don’t think so, at least. Not…not fully. Not yet, at least.”

“But me? I mean-”

“You’ve proved yourself. And after how you were treated in the Clan, there’s nothing to forgive you for. But I’m a traitor in his eyes, still.”

“You saved my life,” Alfred said, but his gaze was hardening. The two of them began to move out of the cave, though their pace was brisk against the stones leading to the slope. “So is that why you didn’t want to hunt earlier?”

Arthur looked away before he could nod. Embarrassment prickled against his spine like he was growing a set of scales, all arousal now forgotten.

“I just…I just don’t get it.”

“That’s fine.”

“No, wait,” Alfred said hurriedly, and he and Laurentia easily caught up with Arthur, though he didn’t touch the Omega. “You’re not - I want you to let me know what’s going on. To help me understand.”

“I don’t want to burden you with the dramatics of Arthur, former healer and hunter, being disciplined for a great sin through the eyes of his Sept leader.”

“That’s not fair - to me, and especially not you,” Alfred insisted. “You’re doing your part, aren’t you? You work hard, follow orders. Serve. Just like all of us.”

“I know, but I still committed treason.”

“For your mate. And you know I was barely in the Clan as it was. Do you - you regret it?”

Arthur shied away at that, as soon as they reached the base of the slope, returning back into the forest. “No. But Dietrich is - he’s not been mated. Surely he doesn’t understand. How intense the mating bond is. How I can feel you half a forest away if I focus enough.”

“And how I can sense your unhappiness,” Alfred said. “What’s wrong? Have the other hunters been bullying you? I’ve not noticed it in camp, but if something were to happen during the patrols-”

“No - no. It’s just that I feel that a single mistake, a single misstep, will have Dietrich doubting me again. That he’ll doubt that I can continue on this path. That I…” Arthur trailed off, briskly rubbing his forearms, trying to regulate his breathing, “that there’s no way back onto my old path. That no one will ever be able to take it the way I have. That I can’t use my healer knowledge enough. That one day, there’ll be a Beta to replace me.”

Alfred hesitated. “Worse, if it’s our own baby.”

“...I suppose in a sense, yes. And that’s not why I don’t want to conceive yet-”

“No, no, I know,” his Alpha was very swift to reassure him, and a pang of gratefulness threaded itself through Arthur’s system. “I know. You’d tell me about it, and I know you don’t feel like that. We need time to be together, to be a couple, before that - we agreed on that. And to really settle into the Sept again. But you think Dietrich doesn’t trust you.”

Arthur exhaled before he spoke again, shoes crunching against the small stones of the brook they were passing now. He could hear Laurentia’s paws behind them, so that was a relief. 

“I think he’s one incident away from punishing me again. Somehow. I’ve not made a big gesture unlike you, to prove my loyalty.”

Alfred shook his head. “That’s not right - you had your herb initiative, right?”

“That might not count in his eyes, given-” Arthur pinched between his thick eyebrows. “I don’t know, Alfred. I can’t just ask him, either.”

“You don’t think it counts because it involves herbs?”

“Yes, somewhat.”

“Arthur…” the Alpha let his name hang in the thin atmosphere, “I think you’re overthinking things a little. A lot.”

”Overthinking things?”

“Remember the afternoon where I was given Laurentia by the progenitor wolf? Where we talked about how you were worried that the tribe was turning against you, and that you felt like an outsider? You’ve worked so well with them - and I’m pretty sure a good subset of them think you’re better integrated than ever.”

“But I’ll still be an outsider. Always. Even if I somehow manage to get my position back. But if you, who’s been here for less time than I have, can integrate so quickly, then-”

“Listen, we’re two very different people,” Alfred said. “That’s kind of why we could mesh in the first place, I guess. But you know that I’ve wanted to belong my whole life, whereas you do fine without many people most of the time. But I need the community, Arthur. I’d die without it. I need to be part of a tribe, and so back then, I would have done anything to be accepted by the Sept. You’re able to function with less than I can.”

Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but hesitated. The tone his mate had spoken with wasn’t patronising or demeaning, he could definitely tell if so - and his scent was soothing, a brush of oak that fell upon him like a balm. As if to accentuate the effect his scent was having on Arthur, Alfred's  hand squeezed his.

“I think you’re overthinking things, really,” Alfred said. “Despite everything, if we can think about it that way, people like you. They worked with you with the herb initiative, despite technically not having to, right? They listened to your orders - they listened to you. You should be proud of where you’ve come, being accepted by your septmates, not constantly worried about whether or not Dietrich’ll punish you. He’s approved of your activities so far, hasn’t he? He’s not put a stop to the herb initiative, and he’s always directed them straight to you. That’s most definitely trust.”

The Omega couldn’t help but falter at that. He should trust what he was telling himself, but his Alpha was right. The two of them stopped in the middle of the forest, Alfred pushing the hilt of his sword a little more to the side to bring his Omega into a tight hug.

“It’s gonna be all right,” Alfred murmured gently into his hair, causing Arthur to exhale with the breath he had been holding into his chest. More of his scent slid out and Arthur took a deep whiff. “I promise. If you need me to, I’ll ask Toris about what he thinks. But you shouldn’t worry yourself any longer. Whether or not you want to pursue your old path, or continue with what you’re doing now, I’ll support you.”

“I…I’ll - fine,” Arthur said, not noticing the patrol cresting over the horizon and Laurentia’s hackles raising behind them. “If…if we can speak about it later-”

He only felt Alfred’s muscles tense. 

“What’s wrong, Laurentia?” his mate said, the pitch of his voice shifting, and he moved to the direction of his direpup on the spot, not letting go of his mate. “What’s-”

”That’s a patrol,” Arthur said. His gaze caught on the blue fabric that the three or so Alphas bore, stark against the forest. “A Clan patrol.”

His Alpha stiffened, his scent spiking. “Do you think they’re going to be aggressive? Despite the peace brought by my sire-”

“I don’t think we should leave it to chance,” Arthur hissed. The two of them parted, Alfred reaching out to grab onto the hilt of his sword, and Arthur reaching behind him for an arrow to notch into his bow, swinging their things behind the base of the thickest tree. “You don’t know what they’ll do.”

“Get up into the trees - don’t show unless I call for you,” Alfred said, throwing in a soft, “please,” and Arthur didn’t even hesitate, following his mate’s orders. After all, hunters were trained in long range combat and climbing trees to get to a vantage point, given that Omegas were naturally disadvantaged in hand-to-hand combat. As formidable as Arthur’s back muscles were from years of constant archery, he wouldn’t hold a torch with his weapon and skill set to an Alpha with a sword. 

Without needing to exchange further words, Alfred slung off the bag of the supplies from the cave and threw it lightly in the direction of his mate, who caught it as he was retreating back to the tree line, throwing it over his shoulder as he scaled the tree. Gods knew if he had climbed this one before, but solo hunting more often than not required him to be on the high ground, so climbing trees was like second nature to him. 

Climbing trees when the life of his mate and his direpup were potentially at risk - Arthur dared to look underneath himself for a moment to catch a glimpse of Laurentia’s agitated pacing, her dark, coarse fur - was not the easiest task, but he managed.

Alfred was holding onto the hilt of his sword - Arthur couldn’t help but think about the battle, the first day they had met. Had he been like this, back then, with his sword, about to face Toris? The infallible Alpha the Omega was sure he was - Alfred was so vulnerable now, standing uncertainly in the clearing, hand on his belt, yet one foot sunk behind him, steadying his balance. 

Gritting his teeth so hard he felt his jaw muscles ache, Arthur used two fingers to slip an arrow into his hand, then lifted it to his bow. Alfred’s form he was deathly familiar with, given how he knew how his mate fought, but thank the gods Laurentia was moving so fast that he could discern her form. He would never forgive himself if he hurt the direpup.

It happened so fast the Omega barely had a chance to catch his breath. One moment he was watching the three Clan members crest over the hill, the other moment they were within a stone’s throw of Alfred and Laurentia. Too quickly, Arthur felt a thread of doubt stab itself into his spine - what if this was a mistake? Should they have run?

But surely, they would have caught up with them, given their cargo and Alfred’s direpup. And Arthur could scent determination, laced with fear - at least, he assumed that the intensity of Alfred’s scent was betraying that emotion of his. 

His first time to prove himself in battle, against the Clan. And Arthur could tell no matter how this ended that it would be difficult to pull him away from his resolve.

Arthur steadied his position on the tree. I’ll protect you until my last breath.

“So you’re still alive,” one of the Clan members said coldly, a tall standing Alpha with wild blond hair that tufted at the tips. “What a miracle.”

“Thought the winter would do you in if we didn’t get to you first.”

“He has the scent of the Sept all over him, sire,” a shorter boy next to the tall standing Alpha huffed, retreating behind him. “No, wait. The stench.”

“Good boy,” the Alpha exclaimed, ruffling the boy’s silvery blond hair. “That’s my son!”

“Matthias, leave it until later,” the third Alpha said, a woman with short brown hair that bristled against the light, tied up halfway. “We need to deal with him and then go back.”

“Deal with me?” Alfred hissed. “You’re in enemy territory.”

“What are you going to do?” the tall Alpha - Matthias, apparently - snarled back. “Out here, all alone in the woods? Beat us all up?”

“I’m telling you to get off my tribe’s land.”

“Answer my question, traitor scum. What’s stopping you from being beat up by all three of us-”

“Matthias, stop.”

“Tereza, don’t tell me what to do - I know what he’s done to Berwald, seen how much shit he’s put our leader through-”

“Matthias, stop!” the woman shouted. She pointed a finger at Laurentia, woven between Alfred’s ankles. “That’s enough. He has a direwolf with him.”

The Alpha whirled around, his hand still on the base of his axe - then he caught sight of Laurentia. For a moment, Arthur swore he would launch the thing at the puppy, and tensed his shoulder to draw back his arrow.

She gritted her teeth. “The progenitor wolves are our gods given manifest,” she said. “The fact that the traitor was granted one’s got to mean something.”

“Their progenitor wolf doesn’t mean anything to me, and neither do their gods,” Matthias snapped back. Still, his weapon remained at his side. “I don’t care if ours share the same sky - this bastard son betrayed Berwald, Tino and our tribe. He made them bend over backwards to care for them. Lukas and I have looked up to them ever since the two of us were apprentices, and then his traitor of a bearer-” he jabbed the half sickle of his axe in the direction of Alfred, “gave birth to him and ruined everything. He’s a shame on his sire after he proved his distrustfulness by coming here, and we let his traitorousness slide.”

“I’ve left the Clan now,” Alfred said, his voice disquiet. “You don’t have any more quarrel with me. Don’t you trust my sire’s judgement in letting me go?”

“Berwald’s too good of a leader, too kind, to properly punish how you defected,” Matthias’s voice echoed against the forest. “He understands that as our leader, he should honour the peace. I’m not a leader, so I can do what he knows he can’t.”

Not because he’s a leader, but because Alfred’s his son, Arthur thought to himself, tensing in the trees. You’re a sire yourself, aren’t you? Don’t you know that? 

The female Alpha - Tereza - still looked unwilling, and the wind carried her bitter scent up to Arthur in the leaves. Her gaze was still fixed on Laurentia, baring her tiny teeth at Matthias.

“Emil’s here, Matthias,” she urged, after a lull between him and Alfred staring each other down. “If you don’t believe as strongly in the gods as you should, at least think of him. Do you want to put your son in danger in your pursuit of becoming one of our leader’s seconds?”

“You’ll take him back, then, so you won’t disturb our gods,” Matthias said over his shoulder, ignoring her last sentence. “I don’t mind - I understand your faith. I’ll face this traitor by myself, and he’ll fail like he did against the Sept deputy.”

“What if something happens to you?” the younger boy said, and Arthur heard his voice tremble at the last word. “Lukas won’t forgive me for-”

“Your bearer will track me down in the afterlife and kill me again himself, but he’ll be proud that I defended our Clan’s honour,” Matthias replied, yet Arthur heard the waver in his voice. For all their savagery, the Omega had to pause at that - so the invocation of one’s mate mattered, after all. “Besides that, there’s no way the traitor bastard’ll kill me. He doesn’t have the skill to.”

“The Sept’s progenitor wolf chose him,” Tereza warned in a low voice. “That means something.”

“The Sept’s progenitor wolf doesn’t know him like we do,” Matthias retorted. “She might not know his blood is dirtied by being a bastard. Might not understand that he’s a traitor. He challenges our leader’s honour by still being alive!”

But the woman was backing away. “No - no,” she said slowly, her foot digging into the soft peat the season had left behind. Laurentia’s tail was as stiff as a stone as she watched her retreat behind the border, Emil following her. “I had my misgivings too, everyone knows that. But if the progenitor wolf chose him, that alone is reason enough for pause!”

“You’re blinded by your beliefs in the gods! Think about what Berwald would want-”

“Berwald believes in the power of the progenitor wolves as our gods,” she snapped. “You know if the Sept’s wolf hadn’t chosen him I would have taught him a lesson already. But no one disputes the wolves’s influence over our forest, not even rival tribes. I won’t curse the Clan.”

Matthias’s fingers tightened on his axe, and as Arthur dared to peer further from where he was perched, he could see it was more of a halberd - not as if it helped now. He was holding his breath; perhaps the other Alpha would be able to convince Matthias to stand down. If only Alfred would have let him come, he would have already struck this belligerent Clan Alpha with an arrow.

Then again, an arrow to the heart would have the same effect, wouldn’t it? Open war.

But it already looked like there was going to be a fight. Matthias was pacing around Alfred, his weapon unsheathed, and before long the long hiss of Alfred pulling out his sword from his scabber sprung off the trunks of the trees.

It was all too easy to scent his mate’s distress. Though the foliage was thick enough to partly obscure Arthur’s view as Matthias and Alfred moved backwards, he could sense his mate’s hesitance. How he wished he could read his mate’s thoughts, but Arthur could guess.

He’s a sire, himself. Has a mate back home. Wants to prove himself.

He’s just like Alfred in many ways.

Still, the Omega kept his arrow free of the leaves, hidden and pointed at Matthias’s back. Harm my mate and I’ll kill you, orders be damned.

“Oh, so you are going to fight,” Matthias taunted. “I thought you weren’t going to put your little direwolf to use.”

“She’s my partner, not some tool,” Alfred retorted, his tread on the forest floor steady. “And you won’t let up even when your clanmate asked you, even when your son’s here. I can’t reason with a savage like you.”

Matthias made a low growl in his throat as he stopped abruptly. “Savage, huh? You’re speaking just like them.”

“I am one of them now.”

“And you’ll pay for it, traitor!” Then Matthias rushed at him, bringing down the halberd with a yell. The dull thump that rung out at the sound of it meeting the packed earth made Arthur’s arm waver for one second. If that thing hits Laurentia…

Alfred leaned down slightly, placing the palm of his hand on the back of his direpup’s fur; Arthur could barely see his boot and his arm. He knew the direwolves were as sacred to the Clan as they were to the Sept, but with how vengeful Alfred’s old tribemates were, he wasn’t sure if he could guarantee her safety. One flick of the knife, or Matthias’s halberd, and Alfred could lose her, while she was still a pup…

Yet there were three of them. Arthur, up in the trees, would be safe, yes, but he could only really target one at once with his bow and arrows. Alfred doubted his ability to take on two seasoned fighters if Tereza decided to join in when Laurentia left, despite the fact that he was much healthier and stronger than he was when he left the Clan. Even if he sent Laurentia back to the Sept camp to get reinforcements, it might be too late for him. e was sure Arthur would get vengeance, but then what?

Alfred moved free, back into Arthur’s peripheral vision. He tilted his head up and the Omega could read the thoughts on his Alpha’s face a split second before he shouted. Laurentia was bristling around his knees - he could feel the coarseness of his direpup’s fur - and she was clearly ready to fight, but he knew she wasn’t ready. He’d trained her to be his partner in his Alpha duties, not his weapon. 

“Go back to camp and fetch someone, now!” Laurentia didn’t need to be told twice, and sprinted immediately towards the direction of the camp. 

Arthur’s gaze flew to Tereza, but to his surprise, the female Alpha hadn’t sprung into action with the departure of the direpup - she was still gripping Emil’s shoulder with one hand, though another rested on her sword hilt. Arthur didn’t have time to look at the boy’s expression.

Alfred was skilled with the sword, but he still only had two, three seasons of coaching at most. Matthias was clearly more experienced, and as soon as the halberd cut a piece of Alfred’s faded tunic, Arthur gritted his teeth and forced himself to not look away.

Alfred countered immediately, sending a swing towards the direction of his arm, but barely skimming the top as Matthias swerved. The other Alpha was a heavyweight, which was different than the type of fighter Toris was - if Arthur could only, without ruining the element of surprise-

The two Alphas continued to fight for what felt like an eternity, strung together by an unchanging sun: Alfred was holding his own, but with each slipped foot and misaligned turn, he was faltering. Laurentia wasn’t back yet, and Matthias seemed to match every single blow and more, not hesitating in the slightest. Alfred’s sword flailed at times, whereas Matthias’s halberd moved with pure purpose. 

Grazes and scrapes were one thing, but the halberd cut with painful precision, leaving slices in Alfred’s skin that had the Alpha breathing with pain, but Arthur found himself still fixed to the tree, still baring that arrow. He knew his stubborn Alpha wanted to fight, but if it came to this…

Then Alfred stumbled, barely using his sword to steady himself, but it was too late. The sun caught on the rim of Matthias’s halberd as he swung it upwards, a hint of teeth in his grin as he began to swing it down towards the tanned skin of Alfred’s neck.

There was no shout, no hesitance at all. No cry of Sept members from beyond the ridge, no high pitched barking. It was just Alfred, alone, against an experienced fighter, who couldn’t cheat death again.

Arthur let loose his arrow.

You’ll cheat death as many times as you want, until we’re ready to leave this world together.

The arrow hit its target, striking Matthias’s right bicep, and the Clan Alpha stumbled back with a cry, his halberd slipping at an awkward angle and crashing down into the dirt.

“Who’s there?” Matthias howled, leaving Alfred to scramble to his feet. Now Arthur had a clearer view, he could see the blood and sweat marring his face and felt his stomach turn. 

The Clan Alpha turned, but not without striking the side of Alfred’s face with the blunt side of his halberd, causing the Alpha to fall to the ground. To Arthur’s relief, Matthias didn’t look entirely unscathed, rather his breathing had turned ragged and he was struggling to staunch a side wound. Like an idiot, he yanked out the arrow, which seemed to bring him no relief.

“Who’s there?!”

Arthur saw little Emil’s hand begin to reach up towards his direction as he pushed aside the foliage covering with his bow. 

“Get out of here, Clan savage,” he called, forcing his own shoulders to lie flat. “Before I send another arrow straight to your heart.”

“Who are you?” Matthias demanded.

“Get out of here.”

“You want me to kill our traitor for you, too, huh?” he strode back to Alfred, and before Arthur could let another arrow loose, kicked him in the side, causing his Alpha to shout with pain. “Eye for an eye. See which one’s faster - my halberd in his throat or your arrow in my heart.”

Arthur clamped his lips together. One of his skills as a hunter was to quick draw another arrow, but with the circumstances…

Matthias turned around to retrieve his weapon, clutching his arm, then Arthur moved. One arrow struck into the top of his right boot, causing the Alpha to swear with pain. Pulling that one out would be more of a disaster.

“No one wants a tribal war, do they?” Arthur snarled. “Would you want your son to die in battle? Stop trespassing or-”

“Tereza, take my halberd and cut down the stupid fucking tree that man’s perching on. I’ll tear him to pieces as soon as we flush him out - no, I have a better plan.” Matthias’s gaze slid forward to where Alfred was now unmoving on the floor; Tereza had now left Emil alone on the Clan border. “If I kill the traitor, then that’ll surely make him come down, won’t it?”

“No,” Arthur’s single word slid out from his mouth before he could stop it. Red was everywhere from his blurred vision; Alfred’s gasps of pain had died down before he had even noticed. Had Arthur held back too much? Should he have jumped in sooner?

By now, the Clan Alpha himself was limping, but he definitely could move further. With a sharp swing, he cut off the section of his boot that had been pinned down by Arthur’s arrow, leaving his foot bare, then with an unsteady gait tread towards where Alfred was laying.

“Do it, Sept beast,” he taunted. “Or are you so desperate to spill blood that you’ll murder me in front of my son, who’ll want vengeance for me if you do?”

“You’re mad,” Arthur’s lips pulled back into a snarl, but he felt his fingers reach for a feather. No matter what - he believed Alfred was alive, but he wouldn’t have much time left in this state - he would keep his mate. 

The whisper of a glint in Matthias’s eyes was only drowned out by the blood pumping in Arthur’s ears, so hard that he only heard footsteps when Matthias stopped, a stone’s throw from Alfred’s form, running so fast that he had to stagger to a stop. Five or six Alphas pelted past him like rabbits in Arthur’s vision. 

“Trespassers!” Toris’s voice was laced with such fury that Arthur scarcely could believe it was his. The deputy threw himself at the Clan Alpha, his sword cutting cleanly through the air. Matthias stumbled, and for the moment Arthur took before scaling down the tree to run to Alfred’s side, he could see the Alpha’s blue eyes flash with alarm. The forest erupted with fighting, but surely not for long.

Arthur immediately strapped his bow and sheath onto his shoulders, half falling, half climbing down the tree, and hit the ground running to get to Alfred. Two Alphas were with him by the time he’d gotten there, the others fending off the three Clan Alphas.

“By the gods, Arthur-”

“How is he? Is he-” Arthur tried to take a breath and it came out like a sob, “is he-”

“He has a pulse…but I’m not sure if he’ll be-”

Eduard looked up behind them at a sight Arthur no longer cared for. “Toris and the others have this under control. You guys were fetching something for the herb initiative, right?”

Arthur could barely nod. “F-From the cave…I left the things behind the tree.”

“Right, we’ll take care of them for you,” an Alpha said next to him. “Get him back to camp and to Francis immediately. Are you hurt?”

“No,” Arthur could barely hear himself say to her. “He made me - he made me stay up there until - he was defending the Sept-”

“Let’s talk later,” she said hastily. “Get your mate back to camp now.”

The sun was beginning to sink underneath the clouds when the three of them raced back to camp. Arthur at least had the relief of his mate’s breath against his hands, and Alfred had woken up, but he knew from all his cycles of training that the Alphas were right - he didn’t have much time. 

To Francis’s credit, he was standing at the entrance along with Dietrich and a now high alert camp, but Arthur could barely acknowledge him with anything other than a nod.

“I’ve prepared a table for him,” Francis quickly fell into lockstep with Arthur, “this way. What’s the situation?”

“Multiple deep cuts, blood loss, lightheadedness suggests he’s lost a sizable amount already, lapsing consciousness, short of breath,” Arthur rattled off without missing a beat, having to stop to catch his breath with a shuddering gasp. “We need to patch up his wounds, clean and suture them, and-”

“Arthur,” Francis said, pausing. Arthur would have shouted at him had a few Alphas and Omegas, who had been waiting in the medicine den presumably at his order, not sprung into action. “You…can’t be here. You know why.”

Arthur hesitated, but only for a moment. If he shoved Francis out of the way, or directly defied his leader’s orders without a hint of hesitation, then Dietrich really would have an argument for keeping him out of the role forever. 

“Francis, please,” he heard himself say. “I’m his mate. I’ve treated him more than anyone else. I know him better than anyone else. I’ve brought him back from the dead. I will do it again.”

Francis wordlessly looked across the table to where Dietrich was now standing, thronged by the rest of the tribe clustering around him. Arthur didn’t see or hear his long breath; he was too busy holding Alfred’s hand, trying to not recoil at the distress his pheromones brought.

Then Dietrich spoke.

“Arthur,” he said, causing the Omega’s head to jerk up, “do what you must.”

The Omega sprung into action, giving Alfred’s sweat-beaded forehead a quick kiss before practically flying into the herb store. 

“Everyone, give them space to do their work,” Dietrich ordered, causing the rest of the tribe to scatter. “I understand everyone is concerned, but he’s in good hands. Fetch Toris back from the border, we need to talk. I assume he’s chased off the intruders already.”

“I’ll go, Dietrich.”

“I’ll go - I know where he is.”

“Do you need me to come with you?”

“Here’s the things you need, are there any other things you need us to do-”

“Thank you, but Arthur and I have it from here. Go outside.”

The commotion started up again outside of the medicine den before Francis secured the lichen curtain shut and continued on with his work.

“Fuck,” Alfred muttered under his breath as his chest heaved. “Francis - Arthur’s not gonna get in trouble, is he?”

“Your injuries might be infected, you could be waiting at the crest of death, and that’s all you’re concerned about?!” Francis muttered under his breath as he began to change Alfred’s dressings. “Lay still, please.”

“He’s my mate,” Alfred exclaimed before hissing in pain as Francis gently wiped away some of the encrusted blood on his forearm. “I love him.”

“Wonderful. Arthur, did you hear that?”

A muffled hum came from the medicine store, but not much else.

“You have got to stop getting into these scraps. You and Arthur should have left the supplies and ran. It’s not as if they’d know what to do with them.”

“I was defending my tribe…” Alfred rasped, but sleep covered his eyelids and whatever words he was about to speak slipped past his lips.

Arthur didn’t know how long he worked in the otherwise gentle night. The skies were clear, he heard the bustle of the Sept outside, but his mind couldn’t leave what he was doing. He could scarcely remember the last time he was so focused; not even when he had been treating Alfred in the cave could he remember being so intense. 

Between Francis handing him an occasional drink or when someone parted the lichen curtain to deliver the two men some food, Arthur didn’t stop what he was doing. Cleaning up wounds, cleansing away discharge, gauging how his mate was responding to treatment.

It was only when the moon had cast her veil of shadows upon the Sept camp that Arthur dared to look up from the table. Alfred had fallen asleep around an hour ago, his chest clear and breathing steady. The bleeding, for the most part, had stopped, and they’d been able to apply medicines and treat his wounds accordingly.

“Your fingers are trembling,” Francis’s voice was ragged as he spoke. “Sit down.”

Arthur was too tired to argue. “Do you think he’s out of danger?”

“Well, we’ll have to see if his body resists infection, and responds to treatment, like any other patient. But you know how freakishly well-repairing Alphas’ bodies are. Unlike yours or mine. He’s got a good fighting chance, given we got to him so soon.”

“And you had another pair of hands to assist.”

“Wrong. Tonight was mostly your work. Your fingers are trembling, put your hands down. He’s not going to die the second we step away from him.”

Time passed; that was all the Omega knew. By now, the food from the other Alphas had gone cold, but it was just some baked bread that still retained some warmth in the center, and so the two of them began to eat, Francis undoing the ponytail he’d fixed his hair in.

“How are you feeling? Given you fought off Dietrich and death in the same afternoon.”

“How am I feeling?” Arthur repeated. “I don’t know. Relief, mostly, perhaps. And guilt.”

“Guilt? Why?”

The Omega exhaled, turning his loaf of bread over in his hands again and again before speaking.

“He told me to go up the tree. To prepare to snipe off anyone that would get to him, but I could feel that - no. He told me not to move. Until he said so. But by the time I’d started attacking the Clan intruder, it was already too late. I should have ignored him.”

“And then what?” Francis said, not unkindly. “Your Alpha would have been pulling double duty, defending the both of you from a wicked attacker. Toris said his name was Matthias?”

“That’s the savage,” Arthur bit out.

“Yes, well. Even Toris told us, when you were suturing his side wound and I gave you space, that he wouldn’t be confident in a fight against him and his halberd. Laurentia might have been too late if you’d revealed yourself.”

“Did Toris kill - kill him?”

“Negative,” Francis said, shaking his head. “Chased him off the border. But the Gathering’s almost three quarters of the moon away. I’m sure Berwald will be making a visit to Dietrich before the next phase of the moon.”

Arthur snorted, digging the heel of his left foot into the woven carpet that covered the floor underneath them. “I can’t understand Berwald. Letting one of his subordinates almost murder his son.”

“And that’s why you’re not Clan leader. You’re furious at him, but you and I know he has to keep a tribe together. I’m guessing there won’t be any fallout from this.”

“What-”

“Think about it, Arthur. Not a single battle for Alfred, nor a viable demand for us to turn him over.”

“As if we ever would.”

“Besides the point, though you’re right. The entire episode’s weakened the Clan. If Berwald hands Matthias over, who is obviously a strong fighter, that breeds rebellion. And I’m sure there’s many people, more people if Dietrich seeks out vengeance, to go against his orders and finish the job instead. A tribal war. Does any of us really want that?”

“…no-”

“I know you and your aim,” Francis said. “You could have shot the Clan Alpha in the throat and we wouldn’t be here right now. But you could also have had Alfred killed. In the patrol’s report, we were told Matthias’s son was there as well. Why didn’t you kill him? Because you know it would be total war.”

Arthur looked away, but he couldn’t deny himself to his best friend. He still didn’t want to voice it, though, so he kept quiet. He reached out after a moment and fiddled with the corner of Alfred’s blanket; they’d rolled it up a little higher so Laurentia, who had visited earlier, briefly, wouldn’t play with it.

“That aside,” Francis said, after the silence had lulled once more, by the sound of Alfred’s steady breaths. “How did you feel about working in the medicine den again?”

“Honestly?” At Francis’s nod, Arthur continued. “It’s like I never left. It came to me as easy as breathing. And it’s not as if I’m ungrateful, but-”

“It just doesn’t seem the same without it, huh?”

“Yes.” The Omega leaned forward, pressing his hands into his knees. “And it’s…complicated. I enjoy hunting, yes. But when our leader let me work on Alfred, I don’t even know how to even say how relieved I was. What do you - what do you think?”

Francis’s eyebrows raised. “Me?”

“Yes, idiot. Are you hard of hearing?”

“Ah, that’s more like the usual Arthur. Anyway - don’t bat at me! Anyway. I don’t know. Either our leader is smart enough to not get between an Omega and his mate, or thought you coming in to become a healer again was for the good of the Sept. Maybe both.”

“You’re the person he comes to second most for consultation. What do you think?”

Francis scoffed, before taking one last bite of his bread. “You make it sound like I’m this wise old man. Need I remind you I’m a mere five cycles of the moon older than you? Anyway. Here’s what I think: your punishment was to set a precedent. To correct bad behaviour. Whatever. But in this case, it gets harder and harder every day to justify that there was bad behaviour past, well, you mating with him and bringing him here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back then, even he admitted that you bringing Alfred back from the dead broke no vow, as he killed no human, and it’s in our oaths as healers: to preserve human life. Let’s start with that. Mating with someone of the Clan is treason, yes, but I believe that would have happened anyway. I don't know if it would be the same as if you waited.” 

Arthur rubbed at his eyes, too tired to argue. “Yes.”

“There you go. But the purpose of punishment is also making an example out of the two of you, but how has that gone? I severely doubt anyone in the tribe would even care for anyone in the Clan now, especially after what happened to Alfred.”

“He’s become well liked these past few moons,” Arthur said quietly. He reached forward, and the sound in the medicine den seemed to hush as he traced Alfred's cheek. “He’s done everything right. Gotten Toris on his side. That would influence Dietrich, wouldn’t it?”

“Out there earlier, people were furious. I wouldn’t say there was a riot, but it’s all everyone can talk about - how he was hurt defending the Sept. No doubt Toris was more than happy to state the fact to Dietrich. He’s on his side, Arthur - your side. And so am I. The two of us spoke, before, agreeing that the two of you have paid your penance already.”

Arthur lifted his eyes from Alfred’s sleeping face. “The two of you want to…support me? Getting my previous role back?”

Francis gave a noncommittal shake of his shoulders as if the confession didn’t shake Arthur to his core. “Something along those lines, yes. It’s a punishment that’s run its course, that’s all. I understand what our leader was trying to do, but it seems pointless to keep you out, especially with no Beta births still. And I can’t help but suspect that him allowing you to work on Alfred tonight was an indicator that the tides are turning.”

The Omega swallowed, getting up from his chair. “I…I’ll speak to him. As soon as Alfred is out of the woods. I’ll - I’ll put our bowls back with the Alphas before they finish up for the night.”

“Are you sure? I can go.”

“You’ve done enough tonight,” Arthur said. He was about to pair it with a barb before he gave it a thought - after everything Francis had assisted with today, it would be best to be less harsh. “Go to bed, you’ve done so much today.”

“Are you sure you can handle walking over there? Your spindly legs worry me…”

“I take back what I said - can it, frog!”

A half moon passed, marked by Arthur spending half of his time in the medicine den and half hunting with the others, almost like old times. Alfred’s sleeping schedule was irregular for the first quarter moon, but he began to grow stronger soon enough - one of the shallower cuts on his upper thigh had become infected, but it cleared up easily.

Dietrich said nothing, didn’t interact with him more than usual besides asking after Alfred, but Arthur knew that he was supervising his activities. For his part, the Omega kept his head down and did his work. The time to speak about his duties was not until Alfred was not fully in the clear. 

As the forest progressed through the flute of spring, leaves shaking stubbornly green and great big birds’ nests blotting out the sun to the dismay of some elders, Alfred began to venture out of the medicine den. As Arthur slowly began to fully resume his hunting patrol duties, Francis at first took control of most of his rehabilitation process, but the other Omegas agreed to give Arthur less rotations (“It’s spring, Arthur, the prey’s running the best it’ll be all cycle. Go spend time with your mate.”) so he could assist in Alfred’s healing process.

“It’s good to see you underneath the sun again.” Arthur took a deep breath, looking at Alfred when he was sure the other man wasn’t looking. The sun had set after they’d gone for a light walk in the forest not too far from the camp, to test if Alfred’s legs could sustain his weight once more, and they were now resting in their den. “Where you should be.”

Alfred nuzzled Arthur behind his left ear, where he remembered he’d washed last night. “Maybe. But where I belong is by your side.”

“Are you sure you’re well rested enough to resume your duties today?”

“You were the one who conducted the tests, weren’t you? I’m all right.”

The Omega gave his mate a nod, but Alfred could tell that he knew that he wasn’t reassured in the slightest. 

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing,” Arthur said hastily, folding over a corner of his tunic. “Nothing that we’ve not discussed previously, anyway.”

“That still doesn’t mean we shouldn’t talk about it.”

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and looked up into the woven leaves that formed their den, but after a moment he released his nose and exhaled. 

Hadn’t a similar conversation gotten them distracted just before the Clan patrol had come over the ridge? If he were to shy away from Alfred, it would only cause more problems than it would fix.

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled before he spoke.

“The things we were talking about, before we were attacked. I’ve - I’ll be scheduling a meeting with Dietrich. Now you’re better.”

Alfred’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. That was a more forward action than he’d expected from his mate.  

“To talk about the things we talked about?”

Arthur nodded stiffly. “You were - you were right. I’ll admit that. There’s no point in carrying all this doubt within me when I can clarify it with a proper meeting. Francis and I had a conversation…and that has taught me to hope.”

Alfred nodded, but he did not speak. Instead, he opened his arms slowly, being careful to not pull at the wrappings still on his body, and gestured with his head to one of the pillows they slept on.

“Are you sure? Your chest-”

“Wasn’t where the deepest of the wounds were, right?” Alfred said, gesturing to his heavily bandaged and sutured side. “And I know it’s your favourite place. C’mon, sweetheart.”

The Omega obliged, propping the softer part of the pillow against his Alpha’s body. He closed his eyes, leaning against his mate, all worry forgotten. Alfred still smelled of the coals and the fire that had accompanied their evening meal, scent the Omega would have never expected feeling relaxed with.

“I’m sorry,” Alfred said quietly. “For what happened last half moon. I shouldn’t have made you wait. I don’t regret sending Laurentia away though.”

Arthur scoffed. “Why are you apologising? It was me who was a fool. If nothing, I'm thankful to you for staying alive.”

His Alpha simply offered him a goofy smile. “Because it’s what’s right.”

The Omega didn’t have much to say to that other than to nod. No matter his various feelings, Alfred had been entrusted by the progenitor wolf to take care of one of her pups. And even beyond that, he had never seen Alfred treat her with anything less than total devotion. 

“I believe you did the right thing. For Laurentia.” The direpup hadn’t been spending as much time with her partner given he was still healing, but he saw her at least once a day. “It just frustrates me I couldn’t do more.”

“I was also defending my honour. The fact that it was the right thing to be part of the Sept. To defect to be by your side,” Arthur heard Alfred’s chest expand before his hand tried to interlace with his, “to be your mate. When he called me something as reductive as a traitor, I couldn't think of anything else.”

Arthur opened his mouth, but couldn’t bring himself to scold his mate, and so he was sitting next to him, simply intaking his scent. After a moment’s pause, he interlaced his fingers back.

“Alfred.”

“Yeah?”

“I know you’re eager to prove your loyalty,” the Omega said, “but putting yourself at risk to do so isn’t how you accomplish it. You’ve proved it, if you ask me. You knew that the members of the Clan wanted your blood. That’s why…before we…”

“Arthur-”

“I know we were trying to avoid war, but I can’t help but feel guilty. No matter what, I should have - if you weren’t in this state, if I could help it.” Arthur dug his fingers deeper into the dirt. “I know you’re thinking about your sire’s duty. Not to mention, If I’d lost you, and the last time we’d spoken was our disagreement…”

“No, I - I get it,” Alfred’s voice was low and heady and as soon as he took Arthur into his arms, the Omega gave in. “You were just trying to protect me. That’s what you’ve been doing. Always. I know about keeping the peace, but my first duty is to the Sept. And you.”

Arthur burrowed further into his Alpha’s chest knowing he’d only do it now given that they were alone.

“Don’t you dare do that again,” Arthur hissed. “If I lose you, there’s no tribe leader I’ll answer to, if it comes to hunting down the Alpha. Or Alphas. Either way, I’ll-”

To Arthur’s mild irritation, Alfred was nodding, but his next words didn’t match his actions.

“Don’t go on a murder spree, okay? Not even for me.”

“I smuggled you out of a direwolf kennel right under the camp’s nose, fending off a rather vicious little Omega,” Arthur retorted. “I’d do worse for you. You don’t have to sound - I mean it. I’m serious about it.”

 “I know you’re serious about it. That’s what kind of worries me, though. What’s done is done. We fought them off and we’re alive.”

“You got hurt!”

“That’s just life in the tribes. Arthur-” Alfred nosed at his mate’s hair. “Arthur, I know you’ll always want to protect me.”

“Putting it lightly,” Arthur grumbled. “It’s in the instinct of every person, Omega or Alpha or whatnot, to protect their mate. And you know they wouldn’t have just let that attack on you slide.”

“But you didn’t just let it slide. You fought with me. If you weren’t there, and I was alone with Laurentia, I’d be gone. But that’s it. Let’s just leave it there.”

The Omega opened his mouth to object, but he turned his head to look up at Alfred and caught a breath of his scent - mixed with herbs and poultices and such, but that was something Arthur was used to. Coupled with the soft movement of Alfred’s lips against his hair, he felt unfairly placated.

After a few more minutes, Alfred spoke again.

“Remember Feliks? Remember the Gathering right after you rescued me, and how you were able to restrain yourself from leaping out at him, despite everything?”

“Yes, but how does that-”

“You left it at that. The fight was over. You need to do the same here.”

“...but what if it happens again?”

“I bet you that the news won’t even reach the Clan, not fully.” Arthur felt the nudge of Alfred’s chin as he shook his head. “I don't know. They’ll go back to the camp and say someone else got them, or something along those lines. They won’t admit it was me and you.”

“Why? Aren’t they eager to paint you as the villain? Or someone that would pose a threat to the tribe?”

“Maybe if they’d beat the crap out of me, yeah. And Berwald wouldn’t be a problem, given the known story is that he doesn’t care for me after what happened.”

“I just can’t believe the gall of that Clan Alpha. In front of his own son.”

“He’s been devoted to my sire for a long time,” Alfred said. “Most in the Clan aren’t on such a high level, I will say, but from what the other Alpha said, he’s been gunning to be his second. So if he thought he could pull off some feat like this, while not understanding what my sire’s true feelings are…”

“That’s why you prefer our system.”

Alfred simply nodded. Arthur saw the edge of one of his wrappings flap along with him and couldn’t help but lift one of the corners of his lips.

“When’s that meeting happening?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“You need me to come with you?”

“I’ll be all right.”

“You’re brave,” Alfred said, stretching midway through his sentence, then wincing. “Ow.”

“Don’t stretch too hard,” Arthur chastised him. “You might be out of danger, but no running off until you’re fully cleared by Francis.”

The Alpha nodded, and that was the end of that. The two of them sat quietly in their den, watching the light on their ceiling fade until it gave way to twilight.

Three days later, Arthur was cleaning his arrows on one of the stumps that flanked the entrance to the Sept when an Omega burst into camp.

“Dietrich!”

Dietrich, who had been speaking with two Alphas, immediately turned around at the invocation of his name. The high morning sun reflected off his leather chestplate as he did so.

“The leader of the Clan is at the border for you,” the Omega panted. “He said you could bring as many people as you wanted, but he was- he was not here to fight. He’s brought one of his seconds, but no weapon.”

“I see,” Arthur could faintly hear his leader mutter. “Right. Where is Alfred?”

“Out with Francis, last time I checked,” Toris said as he made his way down from the deputy’s den, hand on the hilt of his sword, though he stopped as Dietrich faintly shook his head. “Aren’t they looking to redeem the honour of the patrol we chased back to the borders?”

“It seems not,” Dietrich said, as the two of them moved away from a now gathering crowd, closer to where Arthur was sitting. “I thought you had a border patrol this morning.”

“Yes, but I can find another Alpha to take my place if you need me-”

Dietrich gave him a nod. “No, it’s all right.” Lowering his voice, he continued, “If anything, I believe it is his way of gathering news about his son.”

“And about retaliation?”

“We’ll have to see. But if he is not bringing weapons, and neither is his clanmate, I will not do so either. Arthur,” the leader called out, causing the Omega to freeze, “come. I would like you to accompany me.”

Then all the pairs of eyes were on Arthur, and he was glad Alfred wasn’t there. 

“You must understand why I’ve asked you to come along today,” Dietrich said as they walked through the forest, towards the center of the river that formed a seam between the two tribes. 

“Yes: to provide information about Alfred, having been the one treating him.”

“That is one component of it, yes,” Dietrich said. “However. You may have already suspected this, but your punishment and being stripped of your duties is also a place of concern that Toris, Francis and I have been speaking about for some time, culminating in the night Alfred was taken into the medicine den.”

Arthur could only find the strength to nod.

“I will admit, I was surprised when they spoke of the topic towards me. What surprised me even further was when you persisted in treating Alfred that day.”

“That was because he was my mate,” Arthur said, lifting his chin higher from where he had had his head bowed. “Dietrich, I understand you have no mate of your own-”

“I am perfectly aware of the fact,” the Alpha said dryly. Arthur tried to see if he could sense irritation, jealousy, but there was nothing but the clear morning air. “So I decided, that as a leader, it would be irresponsible of me to not consult those with mates. And they all said they would do the same.”

Arthur was stunned. He’d been thinking that his septmates tolerated him, worked with him - but standing up for him was something else entirely.

“…I see.”

“As leader,” Dietrich began, closing his eyes briefly before reopening them, “it is given that I am in control, most of the time. But that does not mean all the time, and it certainly does not mean I rule absolute. That is the model of a savage tribe, not the Sept. And in this case, I have been told by many septmates that I should not discipline you for treating your mate. On this occasion, I am inclined to believe in the words of our fellow tribemates. Even some of the elders spoke up in favour of your actions that day.”

He continued as they left the towering trees that flanked the Sept camp, giving way to softer earth.

“You see, Arthur - a punishment should not be just for the sake of a punishment. It should serve a purpose: in this case, deterring our septmates from doing what you did. However, much like how you created a hybrid healer/hunter role, Alfred and your relationship with him is a special case. From your previous testimony, and how Berwald reacted, I have every reason to believe that his particular situation in the Clan has made it so he is uniquely susceptible to have formed his connection with you.”

“And after the attack on the border…”

Dietrich nodded. “Precisely. So, at Francis and Toris’s urging, I have been thinking about reassessing your role in the Sept ever since the incident with Alfred, as well as the feedback from your fellow septmates. Your Omega tribemates have spoken well of you and the herb initiative, and they are testimonies I cannot ignore.”

“I…I don’t quite understand.” Arthur could not let himself be so hopeful, not so soon.

“In other words,” Dietrich said, “you have kept your end of the bargain, and one of my aims for the curtailing of your duties has been accomplished: that you are integrating more fully with the tribe. Of course, I will have to discuss hunting patrol rotations with Toris and the other Omegas, but I think your suspension has run its course.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “Y-You mean you’ll consider restoring me to my position?” 

“Unless you are uninterested, that is the plan, yes.”

“No - of course I’m interested. Will I be able to continue hunting with the others?”

Dietrich nodded. “You will be. Half of your time will be divided between your hunting duties and your healing duties, with a bias given to one duty depending on the season. I still believe you can excel at your current position. But I also suspect that the gods are trying to tell me something,” he said. “We have had, what I believe, to be an excellent winter and spring. A healthy litter of direwolf puppies, all of which have assimilated and bonded well with their partners. And yet, no Beta birth, which we have been due for for awhile. Perhaps it is the gods saying that there is no need for one. It would be a waste of your talents to have you confined, for no longer useful reasons. I will be speaking with you in the coming moon to determine your rotations.”

Arthur felt his heart pounding in his chest, the veins in his legs go cold with excitement, his head light with relief. Yet he knew he had to keep his cool and continue walking. 

He was valued. He was trusted. He was wanted, in this tribe, not just by his mate, but the people around them.

Chapter Text

Before long, as the fronds of the forest parted for Dietrich and Arthur, three shapes lingered on the river that separated Clan and Sept. 

Compared to the last time Arthur had encountered Berwald and Matthew, the seasons of training had worn away Alfred’s resemblance to Matthew. Perhaps it had been his poor diet or his lack of sufficient training, but the physical difference between Alpha and Omega was stark now, despite their half-brother status. Kuma spotted Arthur first, but the Omega saw Matthew’s hand resting on his head, stopping the direwolf from acting too excitedly. 

Berwald, on the other hand - Arthur had never so clearly seen the parental relationship between him and Alfred until now. The Clan leader’s hair was less golden than Alfred’s and wisdom and stress had clearly aged him, but Alfred physically mirrored him in more ways than one.

Arthur felt resentment rise up in his throat. Protecting his tribe aside, Berwald was Alfred’s sire. Not only that, but surely he possessed the power to rein in his entire tribe, given how the Clan was governed. Letting his tribe members trespass the border to maim his son in an unfair fight, no matter the circumstances, made him sick - Berwald should have forbade them to go to such lengths to harm Alfred moons ago. 

As much as Arthur wanted to shout at the two of them, he held his tongue and deferred to his leader. Given that doing that seemed to have benefitted him greatly as of late, there was no reason for him to draw first blood here.

“Greetings,” Dietrich said. He dipped his head to both Berwald and Matthew, and Arthur followed suit.

“Greetings. First, I must ask - is there a reason why you have not brought Toris today?”

“Of course. I thought it would be far more appropriate to bring along the mate of your son, instead of my deputy, who might not be able to provide insight into the currently delicate situation. Surely, for a similar situation, you have opted to bring his half-brother instead of one of your seconds.”

“Matthew was appointed one of my seconds a half moon ago,” Berwald said. “My senior-most second had decided to retire after winter. This is his first official task.”

“I see. I offer my congratulations.”

Matthew dipped his head in thanks. Soon enough, though, the pleasantries were done being exchanged. 

“I must ask, first and foremost.” Dietrich said. “What steps have been taken to discipline the intruders who came across our borders to attack my septmate?”

Arthur stiffened. With the afterglow of possibly being granted his position back, he had forgotten that the circumstances were painfully similar to his own. He’d not speared Feliks to death, at least, but he’d gone into the Clan camp. At the Gathering, Arthur had wordlessly promised to protect Alfred, and he could feel that Berwald had been genuinely grateful for his efforts back then, but that had been two, almost three seasons ago. What if Berwald had changed his mind, and decided that he wanted to push for stricter punishment again given the current situation? It didn’t seem likely to Arthur, and something at the back of his mind told him he was overthinking, but the Clan leader could very well ask for further retribution now.

Berwald, however, didn’t seem nearly as concerned with Arthur as he was with Dietrich’s question.

“I will say, your septmates did a number on my Alpha. Far more force than was needed to drive out a trespasser, I think you would agree.”

“Matthias was more than happy to lay injury to your son, alone on the territory - believe me, I was there,” Arthur couldn’t stop himself from snapping back. How could Berwald be a caring sire and also not immediately ask after his son’s health? “If it weren’t for his direwolf, me, and the other clanmates showing restraint - because of Alfred's direwolf and not him - we would be speaking about a corpse.”

“Can you confirm this?” Matthew asked, looking at Dietrich. “Were you there?”

“Toris was part of the relieving party, and he and the rest of the Alphas who were there to drive your people off the border all corroborated their story. Not to mention, Alfred, when he woke up from his treatment, was able to confirm the details as well. There is no reason I would doubt their words.”

The expression in Berwald’s stiff face shifted, though not by much. “Treatment?”

“Surely you are aware of the fact that a well-seasoned fighter like your clanmate would triumph over your son, who has not been allowed to learn how to fight like he was meant to back in your tribe?” Dietrich demanded, yet something in the way Berwald spoke had alerted Arthur. 

“If you’ll allow me to speak-”

“Do so.” 

“Did Matthias not notify you of what happened? Or the rest of the patrol?”

The Clan leader hesitated, exchanging a glance with Matthew. His role, as it seemed, held more traps than ever. 

“If we are to move forward with the joint goal of avoiding war, honesty will be paramount,” Dietrich said. Arthur noticed his hand tighten on a leather notch of his belt. “Unless your choices over the past few seasons have changed?”

“No,” Berwald’s voice was gruff; the denial was swift. “War is not what the forest needs right now.”

“I am not seeking an eye for an eye, Berwald. I am asking for honesty. And I expected that from you when you organised this meeting.”

“The situation was underreported,” Matthew said, after a pause. “We were given reports of a skirmish, but that was only received by the patrol that met your deputy at the border. It was only last night that we were informed of the identity of the person that had been attacked.”

“And so, realising that your son was the victim, you came straight here instead of waiting for the Gathering.”

“Is that a problem?” Berwald’s voice was low and rumbled, half a growl. 

So that’s why he didn’t immediately come to call on the Sept camp, Arthur thought to himself as Dietrich continued speaking. Berwald’s explanation at least somewhat made sense. He’d not seen Alfred be particularly upset about his sire's supposed indifference, but Francis had been the one to handle the majority of Alfred’s physical rehabilitation after the incident, and for all the Beta’s flaws, he was good at keeping his patients’ secrets. So if Alfred had felt grief over the fact that his sire hadn’t come to check up on him, Arthur suspected his mate wouldn’t have said to spare him.

“No. I wouldn't accept any other alternative,” Dietrich was saying. “If Alfred is to be encountered in battle, then that is another consideration, but he was provoked by your clanmates. If my septmate did not have his mate and his direwolf, he would be dead right now, and you know it. I’m not even sure why you are showing so much resistance, given your existing connection with him.”

Arthur saw Berwald tense; he could practically guess the next words coming out of the Alpha’s mouth. Are you trying to order me around?

Another moment passed before the Clan leader exhaled, then spoke. “Very well. I will consider how to order my clanmates to leave Alfred alone. But I need to speak to his mate, privately.”

Alone?

Instinctively, Arthur wanted to agree, but he remembered that he was in the presence of his leader. 

“What business do you have with my septmate that cannot be conducted in my presence?” 

“Words that can be only spoken by a sire about his son.”

Dietrich scoffed. “Alfred cannot have a foot in both worlds. He has chosen our tribe, without question.”

Berwald’s gaze moved from Arthur’s to Dietrich’s. 

“My son will not; cannot,” he said. “But I can.”

Perhaps it was Matthew, going over the exact details of the verbal report about the border incident, with Dietrich. Perhaps it was Dietrich’s understanding that a sire’s feelings about his son, estranged or not, were unable to be discounted. Perhaps Arthur, fueled with dual parts curiosity and frustration, allowed himself to walk alongside the Clan leader, his sire by mateship. 

But in the end, Berwald and Arthur were walking a little ways away from the other men to speak privately.

“I appreciate you going along with this meeting,” Berwald said, a cue for the two of them to stop walking. Arthur watched the leader settle onto a tree stump, one unbrushed by moss, planting his feet solidly in the ground before doing so. Arthur sighted a similar one, albeit smaller, not too far away, and followed suit. The Alpha did not speak further.

Like this, under the chirps of lazy summer birds echoing across the treetops and the heat of the sun shied away by evergreen leaves, the Clan leader truly looked vulnerable for the first time Arthur had seen him. The forest framed him, instead of being his backdrop. 

“Let’s not speak too long, in case Dietrich finds it suspicious,” Arthur had to say curtly. Despite his gratitude about keeping Alfred alive when he was still in the Clan, there were still so many things that prevented him from fully trusting the Clan leader. If he held so much power, why didn’t he endear Alfred as a child to the rest of the Clan, or was it too far gone at that point? Had he caused Alfred’s bearer to leave, directly? 

“Mm. I need to ask - if you were there that day, why didn’t you go further in your defence of Alfred?”

Something flared in Arthur’s mind, and then as abruptly as the meeting had occurred, he couldn’t stop his words from rushing out.

“I didn’t want to cause war. It felt like we were walking on a rope of vines that afternoon - any strike on your Alpha fighter and that would be as sure a reason as any. I don’t wish to see the Clan and the Sept at war and neither does Alfred, so we tried to keep the peace.”

“Then of his actions-”

“If it wasn’t for his direpup, the female Alpha in the Clan patrol would have had no qualms in attacking him either, and I’m sure that Matthias would have cajoled his son to join in too. Alfred would have had to not only defend himself, but me as well.”

“Didn’t that frighten you at all?” Berwald demanded. With his deep, stern voice, it should have frightened most anyone, including Arthur, if he weren't furious about how his mate had been treated.

“He’s my mate.” Arthur’s fingers dug deep into the corner of his shirt. “And I trusted his judgement. Wouldn’t you?”

Then something changed. Perhaps it was because they were alone, or some other reason, but Berwald froze. Something in the Alpha’s eyes changed, and as Arthur lifted his gaze, the boundaries of the forest seemed to press further and further inwards. Silence held the Omega’s chest tight, and he could not find it within himself to press on with his questions. Even when the Clan leader announced deaths in his tribe during the Gathering, he hadn’t looked this grave, summer drained out of him in an instant.

Another deep exhale escorted his next words. “I don’t know,” Berwald replied, his next words taking Arthur entirely by surprise. “This might not need to be said, but as a child, Alfred did not know much about his bearer. And for the next few cycles of the moon, until I realised that he was beginning to understand, rumours swirled about him. I saw, too late, that these rumours had festered while I was doing my best to raise Alfred alone, then alongside Tino. Every moment I was not performing my duties as leader, I was raising him, and when Tino declared he wished to begin a courtship with me, we shared that time.”

“He hasn’t shared that small part of his life with me,” Arthur said.

Berwald’s half-snort, half-sigh was rueful. “I don’t doubt that,” he said gruffly. “I understand, of course, you must resent me for the role I played in his exclusion in the Clan. I regret it to this day. Sometimes, it is difficult to rest knowing the price I had to pay for the Clan’s stability is my own son. I could never face his bearer if he ever returned.”

“If he ever returned? He didn’t…” Arthur had to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. “You didn’t know where he was - you don’t know where he went?”

 He knew Berwald and Alfred’s bearer had not been mates when Alfred was conceived, but not much else. The mystery was shrouded with fog, even more so in the Sept.

“I know that Alfred wants to move on with that part of his life. And I feel that this information wouldn’t do him much good. But I thought it was important to mention, as you may challenge why I was unable to quell the rumours about his bearer, and then in turn, himself. There was a part of me that believed the rumours were true, and so some days, I did not tamp them down with the force I should have, not understanding how they would affect Alfred. Rumours about his bearer defecting to the Sept were what frightened me most, and so when I understood what had happened to Alfred for the first time…”

“It’s…true that the natural reaction to someone disappearing would be to look across the border,” Arthur said. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to all these revelations, but he could come up with that, at least. “But Alfred’s situation is different. He is loved, wanted, not only by me, but those around him. In many ways, his tragic story in the Clan has endeared him to the Sept.”

Berwald nodded, quiet. “Then I’m glad. If my failures were sufficient to help him in that regard, I’m glad.”

“What of his bearer…?”

“I don’t know. He left in the middle of the night, in winter, and so by the time Alfred’s cries awoke the camp, his scent trails had been completely washed away. And there has been no record of him ever attempting to cross the border in the Sept. I would like to believe he is still alive, but to abandon our son…perhaps for my unforgivable sin, I am to be allowed to resent his bearer for leaving.”

“Do you know why?”

“It is why I cannot trust his bearer’s judgement. I don’t know. I was…” Berwald took another breath again, and the forest seemed to retreat from his huge, hunched over form, “I was hoping, perhaps, that you could help provide some insight, as to what he possibly was thinking when he abandoned Alfred and the Clan. As an Omega - not to mention a healer-hunter; someone in a powerful position such as yours.”

Arthur looked behind his shoulder at the clearing where Dietrich and Matthew were speaking, and saw their blurry outlines, with a further shadow at Matthew’s feet. There was enough time, surely - not only to gather information about Alfred’s bearer, but Berwald’s past. If nothing, he wanted to understand his sire-through-mateship.  

Berwald continued, “I was due to take the mantle from my sire when we conceived Alfred, and there were…there are certain burdens, expectations of a leader’s mate. Of that I am sure. But these concerns over being a leader’s mate were never expressed to me. I thought he was perfectly content, and we were in love. He wanted to have Alfred first, before everything.”

“Perhaps he was concerned about his ability to have children?”

Arthur wanted children, now that he had Alfred as his mate. Beforehand, he had only thought of it as a pleasant bonus, if he ever were to take a mate, which he was allowed to do so given Francis’s existence as a healer. It was a natural facet of life that he was allowed into, when he assisted with births in the nursery, but for him personally, only if the ‘right’ Alpha came along. Yet from his cycles of the moon as a healer, he knew that as a mating pair aged, there would be concerns of fertility on both the Alpha and Omega’s side. Arthur knew he had plenty of years left, and Alfred as well, so he couldn’t understand the panic nor leaving a wanted child, but if Alfred’s bearer had felt it…

“I have thought of this reasoning the most,” Berwald said. “He was a few cycles of the moon older than I was, but we had agreed to become mates after he had recovered from giving birth to Alfred. But I cannot understand why he would leave a son he had so badly wanted - and he wanted Alfred, truly. When you are with Alfred…do you feel the urge to leave?”

Leave? Leave where? Or…leave him?

Arthur thought about the cave, the scattered sheet of lichen that still hung there to this day; the patchy supplies in the corner, the dead kindlings of the fire; the song of the river against the stones; Alfred’s breathing in the din, his strong, steady heartbeat against the Omega’s chest. His scent, mingling with the Omega’s. Alfred’s fingers finding Arthur’s in the dark.

“Only with him,” Arthur answered. “Only if I could leave with him.”

“I see,” Berwald said. “I must ask if he’s doing well.”

“He’s on the road to recovery. We managed to treat him swiftly. Alphas and their bodies heal so fast that he’ll be back to normal within a moon.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Berwald said. “And I must ask that you don’t speak of this to him. If you don’t mind. I do not want him to search for answers that even I do not know. He has a new life now, and that is what’s most important.”

Arthur hesitated; he didn’t like keeping secrets from his mate. Yet the fact that Berwald didn’t know about what Alfred’s bearer had planned wasn’t much of a secret at all, and his mate had probably already guessed, given how highly in regard he still held his sire. It wasn’t as if the confirmation would do him any good, given Arthur was certain Alfred had moved on.

“You have my word.”

“Thank you. It is…I am glad Alfred finds such trust in you,” Berwald said. “And your mutual affections have not died over the seasons. I am grateful that you can give him his happy ending in lieu of my many mistakes. I regret that I could not do it myself.”

“I will honour my promise of protecting your son,” Arthur said. “But you must do your part, not only as a Clan leader to maintain the peace, but as his sire.”

 Berwald nodded, and nothing else needed to be said.

All throughout the walk back to the camp, Dietrich and Arthur were silent. 

The main goal had been achieved: a steadfast promise from Berwald to ensure that Alfred would be left alone from now on. There was, of course, auxiliary talk about what would be done in a battle, but Arthur suspected his leader wasn’t daft enough to field Alfred in an actual skirmish until further bouts of training and a few more cycles gave him additional strength. It would be a fruitless endeavour to ensure Alfred wouldn’t be piled on, after all, so he needed further coordination with both himself and his fellow septmates to fend off such attacks.

Of course, it would be cloaked to the Clan not as Berwald showing favouritism to his son, rather a further effort to keep the peace. Part of that effort was Dietrich not pushing for Matthias to be handed over, a decision Arthur had to grit his teeth at, but even he had to grudgingly admit it was the right choice. For peace.

But it was Berwald’s words that stuck with him most as the two of them proceeded through the forest. From how the sun hung in the sky, the afternoon meal had already concluded.

“What did you and the Clan leader discuss?” Dietrich asked Arthur as they began to pass through the pine trees that formed the outermost defensive ring leading to the Sept camp.

“The nature of his relationship with his son,” Arthur said. It was best that the topic of Alfred’s bearer and their conversation around him not be discussed too heavily, given that Arthur was bloody grateful that Dietrich seemed to have warmed to Alfred at last. “I believe it was an effort to improve my view of him.”

“And? Did it work?”

“I still can’t forgive what he did in the Clan, and how he didn’t defend Alfred as he should have,” Arthur answered, skewing the truth a little in his favour. He still felt that it was important to hold onto the severed ties between the two of them and the Clan, by proxy of being Alfred’s mate. “But I believe that my approach that day, avoiding conflict by not shooting Alfred’s attacker earlier, was correct.”

“Good,” Dietrich said, curt. “I understand you disliked that compromise, but it had to be made. I’m pleased that your presence helped the negotiations.”

Arthur dipped his head. “I’m thankful for the opportunity to defend my mate.”

The conversation died until they approached the camp. Given that it was the summer, the tunnel system was in disuse, and so they were in full view of the Sept as they approached-

“Arthur!” Alfred’s cry split the air, and he ran as if he hadn’t been speared by some Clan savage mere moons before. The Omega barely opened his mouth to tell him to slow down before a wall of muscle descended upon him in a hug.

“Alfred-”

“Gods, they said you’d gone off with Dietrich to negotiate with the Clan leader…and I thought I’d gotten you in trouble again…” Alfred was nuzzling against his nape, dangerously close to his claiming bite, and Arthur had to bite at the inside of his cheek to not do anything inappropriate in front of their leader. “You’re all right, yeah?”

Arthur felt his shoulder muscles slacken instantly as he scented his mate, try as he did. He could just about see the owlish gazes of the Sept - and Francis’s smug grin, he’d scold him for that later - from behind Alfred’s shoulder.

“The negotiations were successful,” Dietrich’s voice came from Arthur’s right, where he had been standing. “Now, if you’ll accompany us, we will be making the announcement.”

“Sure,” Alfred said, but he planted a kiss on top of Arthur’s hair before he let go, intertwining his fingers with Arthur’s. 

After the announcement - met with sighs and groans that Dietrich had agreed to leave Matthias’s discipline up to the Clan - had concluded, the rest of the day passed in a blur. 

It was as if Alfred’s tight embrace had filled Arthur with the warmth of the newborn summer. They were inseparable, yes, but even more so than usual. Given that today was quite hot, it had become a lazy day, where instead of having the Sept complete their rotations, they were allowed to begin wrapping up just before sunset.

Alfred didn’t leave his side, taking full advantage of the fact. Usually, Arthur would be flustered by his clear show of affection, as he much preferred to be intimate with him in private, but for today, it was all right. Even Francis, the sod, didn’t come up to him and tease - Alfred had claimed him for the rest of the day.

Yet after the evening meal had concluded, and Alpha and Omega had passed their bowls and utensils to the few Alphas on duty that night, Arthur’s stomach seemed to fill with a strange prickling. It intensified as the two of them walked alone to the dens reserved for mates, which were located a little ways away from the rest of the camp, newly refurbished that spring. It was completely dark that night, meaning that no Alpha or Omega were sharing their ruts or heats, and the mated pairs in the camp had decided to sleep in the communal dens instead. 

A perfect summer evening.

“Just us tonight, huh?” Alfred’s laugh was contained in his voice as he pulled Arthur close, their shoes rumbling over the stones in the path. 

“It would seem so,” Arthur replied. He let himself lean against his mate’s shoulder, but pulled away as it seemed to make the prickling worse, and seized on the shift of his pelvis as he walked.

Alfred immediately picked up on it, whether or not it was his movements or the shift of his scent. “Hey…” he said, stopping in front of Arthur and placing his hands on his arms. “You okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you-”

“Your scent’s changed,” he murmured, then without warning, dived into Arthur’s neck, inhaling deeply where his claiming bite was. “Yeah. You smell different. A good different, but different.”

“Alfred-” Arthur spoke, then abruptly there was no air in his lungs where there had been before. His green gaze dropped to his mate right in front of him, kneeling given their height difference, his broad shoulders against the faint outline of the torches that marked the end of the tree line, his warmth, his mouth against his claiming bite…

“Your scent, it’s,” Alfred rasped, and Arthur felt his grip on his arms tighten so much it should have hurt. “It’s - gods…when I saw you coming back today, so strong and assured, standing next to Dietrich instead of trailing behind him…”

“I know,” Arthur gasped. Alfred’s strong arm went to lift his calf to his waist, and he obliged without hesitation. “You - grabbing me like that in front of the entire Sept-”

The Omega felt Alfred's grin and bit down on his own moan. 

“Yeah, I did,” Alfred said. “In front of the whole Sept. So that they knew that the Omega who held his own in a discussion with two leaders is my mate. So that they knew you chose me. That you belong to me.”

This isn’t normal… The tiny pit of thought flooded into Arthur’s mind, but his mate’s tongue and lips were on his and all inhibition seemed to fade along with his hushed breaths in the night. 

Gods, yes. He belonged. The rush of the feeling wasn’t something he’d ever thought he needed ever since earlier that day, but it was there. He belonged - not only to the Sept, but to this territory. To Alfred.

His mate.

Mate. Mate, mate, mate-

Arthur wasn’t sure if the gods themselves reached downwards and connected one thought to another, but in a moment of clarity, he managed to pull himself away from his mate.

“Alfred…” 

This isn’t possible. I wasn’t…I’m not scheduled to be…

Fingers etched up Arthur’s sides before he could push another thought from his mind to his mouth. Alfred got there first, teasing Arthur’s willing lips open, taking from him slowly, then all at once, a wave crashing onto the shore during the stormy moons of the season. 

“Alfred, please-”

Alfred broke away between kisses to speak. “You don’t want this?”

“No, I - no-”

“Then don’t disobey me.” Another hand slipped against Arthur’s sweat-laced left calf, then the Omega was straddling him, being carried by him to their den without much trouble at all. The trees fell away all too soon behind his broad shoulders.

“No, Alfred, I…” Arthur had to focus on the feeling of the rough seam of Alfred’s clothing against his fingers to talk. “I think we’re in heat.”

Alfred practically kicked the door down and Arthur had to cup his mouth to prevent a mewl slipping past his lips. He could feel the force of the wood yielding to his Alpha’s strength, the same strength that Alfred wanted to breed him with, that he wanted to be bred with-

“We’re - I’m in heat,” Arthur gasped. Surely Alfred hadn’t heard? His hand hit the back of the wood that formed the bed frame and it brought his senses back even further. “You - in rut.”

He reached up from behind and squeezed Alfred’s cheek - hard - and that seemed to snap his Alpha back from where he had been trying to bolt the door shut.

Alfred blinked with such surprise that in any other situation, Arthur would have considered it comical.

“Huh? In - in rut? But it’s not…it’s not our moon, right?”

“It’s not meant to be.” Their heat and rut had synced up the very next heat after their mating, which was par for the course. “But I…somehow, I think it is. I think I caused it.”

Had it been about the conversation with Berwald? How he had affirmed his duty to protect Alfred, to stand by his side? Or was it knowing that his mate was safer at the end of the day?

The Omega heard his Alpha’s grip tighten on the wedge of wood between the wall and the door.

“I can go to the medicine den if you don’t want this,” Arthur offered.

“I don’t - me? Arthur-” Alfred knelt down, and it took every cell in Arthur’s body not to part his legs and push Alfred in between them. “I am at your mercy. Whatever you want is what I want.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Arthur said, barely above a whisper, and in the darkness, he could see Alfred’s Adam’s apple clearly against the skin of his neck. “You know I…we agreed…you’ll be spending a lot of time away from your duties also-”

Alfred moved forward, cupping Arthur’s knee. He lifted the fold of fabric that lingered over it, then as soon as the Omega’s skin was bare, kissed it gently.

“I’m ready,” Alfred’s voice was low and heady and Arthur would bathe in it if he could, “when you are.”

The Omega had a thought of wanting to be perfectly rational, to plan out the next few cycles of the moon, to contend with the very real possibility of him becoming pregnant. Yet those barriers of resistance did not come - he wanted his mate, he wanted his mate’s rut, he wanted to share his heat with him. And in some ways, they had established a plan of sorts so that things wouldn’t implode.

I’ll take good care of you, Alfred.

“I’ll light the candle, before-” Arthur had to force himself to breathe out through his mouth so as to not intake more of his mate’s scent. “In case someone tries to visit in the dead of night.”

Amusement flared in Alfred’s eyes; at least that was a sign his mate knew what he was talking about. “Is it a problem if the Sept sees us like this?”

“You’re mine only,” Arthur retorted. “Yes.”

It was the anticipation before a hunt, the hiss of patience whispering in his ears as he took the half-empty pack of firestarters in the den, lighting the sole candle in the room. It was unceremonious, yet no flame could possibly match the one in Alfred’s gaze.

Now the rituals had been concluded, there was only one thing to do. Arthur took a deep breath, then reached forward to dig his fingers into Alfred’s clothing. With some effort, he heaved the Alpha between his legs, but Alfred could not stay kneeling for long. 

During their heats where they’d taken preventative herbs, Alfred had always held back, measured himself. Arthur had done the same - there would always be a slow, languid unfastening of each others’ clothes, but this time there was none of that. 

Instead, the Alpha gripped and tore, sending the pitiful pieces of fabric that had formed Arthur’s protection against his mate’s proclivities scattering across the floor. Alfred was panting now, too, his cheeks scarlet red in the dusk, his eyes hungry and wanting. 

More predator than man.

“Your scent’s deepening, here,” he broke off to push Arthur’s right leg higher, revealing the wetness and the hardening of his cock to their eyes. Usually, it would have brought some embarrassment, but there was only arousal as Arthur watched Alfred’s hungry gaze. “Here, too,” Alfred bit at the soft skin of the Omega’s knee as he spoke. “Here…” he finished off by nipping a trail halfway up Arthur’s stomach.

Arthur let his mate exert his strength, but there was no way he would be satisfied with allowing Alfred to do all the work. He leaned forward into Alfred’s embrace, spreading his legs even further, using his hands to wrench down any clothing that stood between his Alpha and his state of nudity. Alfred’s scent flared and he moved closer, enveloping Arthur’s lean torso.

“Shh,” he murmured, voice husky, dropping half an octave. “It’s your heat.”

“And your rut,” Arthur countered through the thickness of the scent that now bunched up underneath his nose, scent that was discarded in the form of Alfred’s very thin summer tunic. “You don’t even-”

Alfred buried his nose against Arthur’s neck, and the Omega could feel his rough breathing against his Adam’s apple, the indent of his teeth against his skin. The Alpha’s hands came against his back, pressing their chests together, but it was Arthur who locked them together with his legs. Arthur pushed against his touch, baring his teeth to suck marks along his collarbone, closing his eyes to guess where his claiming bite was so that he could mirror it on Alfred.

“Be good for me tonight,” Alfred’s voice washed over Arthur, and the urge to submit further followed suit. Arthur could feel his eyes willow, his legs weaken, but he made himself stand under his own weight. It felt painfully easy to fall into his mate’s arms.

“Make me.” Arthur wouldn’t submit without being rightfully made to.

Under the faint flicker of the candle, he could see Alfred’s grin. 

Alfred continued to kiss against Arthur’s neck, but it remained almost painfully gentle, almost taunting in how delicately he was treating him. In between the haze of taking his Alpha’s scent in so deeply, Arthur barely had time to wonder whether or not he was still holding back, or whether or not he was deliberately teasing him knowing the Omega craved the roughness of his touches. 

He was about to begin clawing at his Alpha’s back in the hopes of making him retaliate, to really show him his strength, when without warning, one of the Alpha’s hands trailed up the curve of his rear, seizing his wrists with one hand. One leg brushed callously between Arthur’s thighs, coaxing a gasp from the Omega, and it pressed him back against the frame of the bed. Instinctively, Arthur started to thrash against his restraints, but one kiss from Alfred made him slacken against the mattress, made him want to give in to his Alpha. The breath of feather down making space for another body echoed Arthur’s own rasping breaths as Alfred began to rub tightly between his legs with his knee, grazing the inside of his thighs.

Arthur could barely find time to grip the fabric of the bedding as Alfred’s remaining hand moved up his body, stroking the sensitive skin of his stomach. The Alpha’s other hand continued to restrain the Omega’s trembling wrists, pressing upwards, arching Arthur’s back as to bring their bodies closer.

“So soft,” Alfred rasped, his fingers drawing incoherent patterns against Arthur’s stomach. “So, so soft. Here…you’ll be pregnant with mine…our…”

There was no need for Alfred to finish the rest of his sentence; Arthur could already feel his cock throb at the possibility of carrying his mate’s child. Every instinct in his body called for it, and their joint desires made it flame further still. 

“Let me go,” Arthur barely managed to choke out. He could feel his shoulder blades digging into the bed, baring the flat planes of his chest to his mate, but being restrained so far away from his mate was something he couldn’t tolerate. “I…you-”

The Omega forced his eyes to focus on his mate, but to his surprise, Alfred hadn’t heard. Arthur saw his blue eyes, darkened by his rut and the night, roaming over his own body. It was the same gaze he had remembered seeing the night they had mated for the first time, and so there was no possibility of fighting against Alfred enjoying the sight of him.

Then Alfred lowered himself, pulling Arthur downwards so that their bodies interlocked. Arthur still struggled against the restraint of Alfred’s hand against his wrist, though his legs wavered around Alfred's pelvis before instinctively tightening around his heated body, uncaring of whether his slick would stain Alfred. The light from the moon outside trickled faintly into the den, lighting his wild gaze, his broad shoulders, the marks Arthur had sucked into his neck already.

Mine. 

Alfred punctuated a thrust with a kiss to Arthur’s clavicle, one on each side. Arthur could only find the strength in his body to nod with a whimper. Since his bleeding mate wouldn’t let him move, he made do with the friction of grinding himself against Alfred’s knee, forcing air through his gritted teeth. As if he felt it, the Alpha let go of his mate’s wrists, but stopped short of anything else. Nothing but Arthur’s small pants of pleasure, the sound of his erection against the damp skin of his knee, permeated the den as he watched. 

“What?” Arthur shot back, though he could feel the effect of his sternness be reduced by the splotchy heat searing through his cheeks. Another jolt of pleasure shot through the Omega’s sternum and he couldn’t help but keel forward, foot sliding back as he did so.

“Nothing,” the amusement dancing in Alfred’s gaze as he waited to see what the Omega would do made Arthur’s cheeks blot with further indignation. “Just wanted to watch you.”

Every cell in the Omega’s body was fighting to grip onto his Alpha and take what he wanted, and he felt it with every rapid heave of his sweat clad chest. Whatever exhaustion that had come from the day faded in pursuit of finding his own release, and making sure Alfred’s release knotted itself inside him.

“Don’t move.” Alfred’s words came in a hiss so delicious, so sharp Arthur was sure it would blow out the candle hovering above them, lighting the gold in their damp hair. Finally, Arthur would have snapped, if he could muster the breath. The Omega was acutely aware of his mate’s strength - surely he could do what he wanted. Would his hands fasten against Arthur's waist and go from there? Would he stand against the bed and force Arthur’s lips to part for his erection? 

One arm came behind Arthur’s back, lifting him up to Alfred’s torso in a single powerful jolt, making his back arch completely at his leisure. The Omega barely had time to relish his mate’s strength as Alfred shifted himself slightly off the bed, one leg steadying his body as he lifted Arthur’s hips over his erection. The Omega could already feel the heat of Alfred’s cock radiating against his hole, the tiny echo of his slick dripping off his thighs, their rushed breathing mingling like dewdrops after rain. The Alpha pressed his forehead against his, taking a deep breath, then penetrated him to the hilt in one harsh movement.

A sob fell through Arthur’s mouth - he had never felt so full - but there were not enough hands to cover his mouth, to touch Alfred, to hold him close. Possessiveness rushed through Arthur’s system at how unkempt his mate was with his uneven, wandering touches, kisses that stopped and started at Arthur’s heat scent coming to Alfred in waves, words that began and ended with Arthur’s lips fastening against his own. 

This is an Alfred that no one else can have, the Omega thought as Alfred began to move inside of him, too heat drunk to speak the words out loud. You’re only allowed to be this weak with me. Only I can make you this vulnerable.

“So much slick,” Alfred growled, the only sound cutting through Arthur’s thoughts. “That’s - gods. Your body in heat knows - knows how much to give me.” 

Fighting back self-consciousness, the Omega looked down at where the base of his mate’s knot was starting to form, the lewd translucent liquid of his own slick and Alfred’s precum mingling, dripping off the wood onto the floor. The volume of wet skin slapping against skin, amplified with how fast Alfred was lifting him on and off his cock drew goosebumps against Arthur’s forearms.

Once Alfred lifted him almost entirely off, and the Omega felt his hole clench at thin air, Arthur spoke.

“You must have thought of that for-”

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking of the night when you’d give me your full heat.”

The Alpha moved Arthur’s hips downwards, but this time Arthur resisted him, locking his legs tightly against his back and leaning forward, digging his nails into his back, his head falling into the crook of Alfred’s neck.

“I need you inside of me, not outside,” Arthur heard his own voice, slow and unsteady, as another throb of pleasure wracked its way through his body as he felt painfully full once more. Biting at the inside of his cheek was sure to draw blood, and so he tightened his grip further - not so much that it would draw rivulets of blood down Alfred’s back, but enough that it would leave tiny indents against the lines of his mate’s muscles.

“I’m at your mercy,” Alfred drawled lazily, his fingers teasing at Arthur’s claiming bite. The Alpha’s deliciously tousled hair fell over his eyes as he moved inside of him.

Every moment of physicality shared between them, Alfred’s hips forcing Arthur’s legs to bounce from where they were poised above his back, drew half-buried screams from the Omega’s throat. From where the Alpha’s thrusts caused the Omega’s body to produce more slick, he could have sworn that honey - the texture not unlike the dripping wax from the candle fixed above - was trailing down his skin, making him more and more tempting to his mate. There was no better way to experience his mate’s sheer size than to ride him, but the mess was-

As if he could read his mind, Alfred spilled Arthur back onto the bed, exhaling sharply before pressing his mouth roughly against his mate’s. Their teeth clashed, the Omega yielding instantly to Alfred’s tongue parting his way in as he dug deeper, the Alpha’s powerful thrusts shaking the wooden frame of the bed, his knot swelling in preparation for the moment of his release.

Then Arthur’s right hand came from where it had been pinned against Alfred’s chest, reaching for the Alpha’s hand. Their eyes met, green to blue, as Arthur trailed it up his body, landing near his abdomen.

“Here,” Arthur rasped, his voice faint from exertion. His hand was raised slightly, given how Alfred’s cock left a noticeable bulge inside of him. “Fill me here…let me bear your child.”

Alfred blinked at him, his thrusts stilling - then he nodded. The rough scrape of a touch turned into a caress.

“Our child, Arthur,” he murmured, low and soft. His other hand let go of the bed frame and brought Arthur’s chin forward to kiss him, stifling his mate’s screams as he reached orgasm moments before Alfred did. “Ours.”

Chapter Text

“Arthur?”

When Arthur had started to physically show, it had been twelve, thirteen moons since Alfred had been formally inducted into the Sept.

The Omega’s stomach, once starched with lean muscle, had now developed a softness to it the past three moons that was practically mythical to Alfred’s eyes. 

Ever since that summer evening, they had been watching, waiting. Of course, a heat and rut without dried pomegranate peel was the best chance for an Omega in the tribes to fall pregnant. Despite how early Arthur’s heat had been, which had caused some concern about their chances when the two of them had talked with Francis a week afterwards, the Omega had taken to it well.

“The nature of your heat and rut is to give a couple the best chance of reproduction,” Francis had said, brushing it off. “Your emotions were running high that night, and you’d not taken the herbs for the moon. Nothing too abnormal.”

The two of them had grown cautiously excited, but nothing would be surefire until three moons had elapsed. An Omega’s pregnancy, gender aside, would be largely symptomless until three moons elapsed. Perhaps their bodies had evolved to be that way, given that all Omegas chose to continue with their duties until they visibly started showing, most going so far as to continue until it became uncomfortable. Or when their mates begged them to.

Alfred wasn’t above begging, but all of that could come later. Arthur was pregnant - pregnant - and it was his child, to boot!

Well, their child. But Alfred always got chills thinking that his seed had taken root inside Arthur, a baby coming from their union. And while Arthur hadn’t changed much since he had confirmed - diagnosed by himself, of course - that he was pregnant, there were little things.

Such as him beginning to soften, not only physically, but in the way he let Alfred escort him from the dining area every night and in the way he breathed the Alpha’s name at night…

It might have been a little earlier than their plan, but Alfred didn’t regret what had happened that night at all, and he was relieved that Arthur didn’t, either. In the moons since the summer had risen and begun to fall, his mate had begun to resume his healer duties in earnest. Though they were approaching the cusp of autumn now, Arthur was still spending more time hunting, as the current rotations didn’t elapse until half a moon later.

Usually, Alfred wouldn’t have worried - just been as proud as usual - but now Arthur had a lovely, small bump under his tunic, he couldn’t help but worry. What if Arthur notched an arrow too fast and accidentally cut against his bump? What if he accidentally ingested some bad herbs? What if one of his patients reflexively kneed him in the torso? What if he underestimated the force of his bow and tumbled from a tree? What if some animal ran at him and injured his stomach?

All of this was tearfully communicated to Arthur one night as they were leading Laurentia back to the direwolf kennels. 

Arthur raised his thick eyebrows at him, and promptly squeezed the soft bit of Alfred’s cheek in admonishment.

“Ow! Ow, ow - hey,” Alfred sputtered, blushing as a few Alphas going past snickered. Alfred could scent the amusement in his mate’s pheromones, so at least that was a relief. “What’s that for?”

“Being daft,” Arthur replied promptly. Unlatching the door to Laurentia’s den with his free hand, he then released Alfred’s cheek. “Alfred, I’ll be fine.”

Alfred ruffled his direpup’s head, and the two of them watched her lap up the fresh water in her bowl before turning back onto the path towards camp. The Alpha reached for the Omega’s hand, and it was grasped without hesitation.

“I know that, but everything’s different now.”

“Look,” Arthur said. “Omegas don’t suddenly become fragile leaves, tossed about by the wind when they become pregnant. It’s not as if some perfectly ordinary facet of tribal life will become lethal to me.”

“But your body’s growing, adapting…changing…”

“And so will I. I will perform my duties to the best of my ability. Becoming pregnant won’t change that.”

“But still…”

“You’d be a fool to think the man who has brought you back from the brink of death, twice, can’t assess his own body,” Arthur’s tone was pointed, as if he was challenging Alfred to say otherwise. “And I will be a good judge of that.”

Alfred bit his lip, but nodded. 

“So…how do you think you’re doing?”

“All right, I suppose. Slightly better than average. Some Omegas take to pregnancy very poorly, and they’re given a place in the nursery so Francis and I can monitor them more closely. Some perform their duties until they’re six moons along.”

“Okay,” Alfred said, giving his mate’s hand a squeeze. “That sounds good. But your morning sickness, right? Should it have cleared up by now?”

Arthur snorted at that. “Alfred,” he said, “you’ve been the one rubbing my back and fetching me water each morning that I’m sick. You’d know.”

“Yeah, but when does it typically stop for each Omega?”

“The fourth or fifth moon, unless it’s very serious. It only occurs in the morning, after all, so I’ve just been doing the afternoon hunting patrols. When Toris finishes assigning the new rotations, I’ll be splitting my time more evenly between being inside and outside of the camp. If you so wish, you can keep an eye on me then.”

Alfred was about to agree as they began to enter the main body of the camp, but paused. “Well, it would be nice, but I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Burden? How so?”

“If you’re in the medicine den, wouldn’t it be annoying? Having a big Alpha standing around while someone’s being treated?”

To Alfred’s pleasant surprise, Arthur leaned onto him, and as he looked down at his mate, a playful expression had fallen onto his face, lightened by moonlight.

“I suppose the big Alpha must stand outside. Well, in that case, I have to emphasise that he’ll remain as my guard outside.”

“You don’t have to say it twice!”

The Omega didn’t respond, merely looking up at his Alpha with mirth.

Alfred couldn’t help but smile at Arthur’s grin - usually, the Omega would be more reserved, given how eager he was to protect his privacy. 

“I’m surprised,” Arthur said. “I was worried you’d make a huge fuss.”

“It’s nice when we’re alone, like this,” Alfred couldn’t help but say.

“Y-Yes, I suppose.”

“It’s like the rest of the camp’s fallen away. And I can focus my attention on you.”

“It - now you’ve said it, you’ve made me think about the fact that we’re not in our den yet,” Arthur grumbled, but Alfred could faintly see his cheeks pink. 

“So I’ve ruined the mood, huh?”

“I’d not go that far, but a little.”

Alfred squeezed his hand. “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you later tonight.”

“...do you have to be so suggestive?”

“You like it! After all, you smell so nice…and your body’s softer now…you’ve gained a bit of weight,” Alfred said, and didn’t even fight the warmth pouring into his words. “A bit of cushion. It’s nice.”

“I - well, I suppose that’s a good thing,” Arthur said as they approached their den. “I’ve not noticed myself, but I’ll take your word for it. Perhaps I’ll have to steal less of your body heat this winter.”

At that, Alfred froze. 

“It’s winter…you’re gonna give birth during winter. Is that going to be dangerous?”

“To be precise, late autumn, early winter,” Arthur said. He gave his mate’s hand a squeeze. “Every Omega and infant have to undergo winter eventually, but our little one can spend the first moon or so in relative safety. And with the good fortunes that the progenitor wolf has given us this cycle of the moon, I’d not worry.”

Alfred tried to nod, but felt his neck stiffen. He settled for opening the door for his mate, leaning down to give the side of Arthur’s neck a nuzzle. The mint and mate-scent that Arthur had carried with him ever since their mating had faded into a sweetness that carried a hint of milk, and despite their conversation, he still had to indulge his craving for a moment.

Arthur turned around immediately after the door had been shut, his thick eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Alfred opened his mouth, but knew instinctively there was no real reason to cover his hesitation.

“Should we have waited? Winter is…well.”

“Winter is also a time that many bearers and sires are completing less duties already,” Arthur’s voice softened. “We’ll have more time to spend with our infant than in most seasons.”

“Y-Yeah. I’m glad.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Arthur’s touch on his body remained delicate, but it was still there, only broken when he pulled his own tunic over his head with one hand. “Winter must be…must be very hard on you.”

Alfred opened his mouth to ask why his mate would think that, but paused. 

Winter was when his bearer had left him and Berwald. From Arthur’s knitted eyebrows to how he was still holding his own tunic, knuckles tense, that was what the Omega was thinking of as well.

The Alpha decided to try with a joke as he began to shed his layers of clothing, too. “Oh, uh. I’m not going anywhere, heh. And you’ll be-”

“Alfred,” Arthur admonished him, not unkindly. “I’m not worried about you betraying me and our child. I’m worried about whether you’ll be all right.”

Alfred nodded, but when he tried to speak, the words lodged in his throat. He’d not thought about it, really, since any downtime he had from his duties was spent doting over his Omega. It was difficult to not moon over Arthur normally anyway, but with the added allure of the fact that he was carrying their child - his child - had made it impossible to stay away.

But Arthur was right. Winter, though not the season of his birth, was still when he had lost everything. His status in the Clan as the beloved leader’s son, his security, one of two people that he believed would love him unconditionally, and his bearer. He thought of Berwald’s overwhelming sadness, when he had broken the news to Alfred, and had to swallow. 

Alfred must have emitted some distressing pheromones, as Arthur’s hands came against his forearms, pulling him close.

“I apologise, if I’ve caused you grief,” Arthur said softly. For all his prickliness, Alfred thought as he accepted his mate’s embrace, his Omega was quick to comfort when he understood Alfred needed it. “I shouldn’t have brought it up, I just - I thought it was a concern you had.”

The sour tang of guilt hit the back of Alfred’s throat as he opened his mouth to speak, and from the pounding of his heart in his ears and Arthur’s expression, he was sure the potency came from the fact that it was coming from the both of them.

And that was unacceptable. When they had fallen in love, Alfred had already caused his mate more than his fair share of grief, he was sure. Slowly moving his hands, he placed both of his palms against his mate’s face. 

“What is it?” Arthur’s voice held steady, but Alfred could feel him trembling.

“I, uh,” Alfred blurted. The words would not come. Then he kissed him. 

It was soft, hushed, reverent - in many ways, it reminded Alfred of their first kiss by the river. But while that embrace had been marred by uncertainty, now reassurance guided Alfred’s fingers as he cupped Arthur’s defined jawline to his hands.

“Alfred,” Arthur’s breath was soft, yielding, and just before he closed his own eyes, Alfred saw the Omega’s eyes fall half-lidded. His mate’s scent filled the air with sharp sweetness.

Arthur pressed himself tightly against his own body, making Alfred arch to follow his lead. There was the firm muscle laced in the Omega’s shoulders, the smoothness of his skin after a long day, then the hardness of his chest, then - then the irresistible softness of his stomach…

“Arthur,” Alfred murmured, as he unlaced his clothing. He heard their movements across the dry ground of their den, the echo of bone on wood as the two of them moved against their bed frame. “Arthur, there’s nothing you gotta say sorry for. I - I love you.”

“There was no need to stumble over those words, you-” the Omega’s voice was breathy Alfred kissed him into their bed, “you say that to me every day, as we wake…”

“Do I? I guess I said it today, but I don’t think I say it-”

“I’m not a fool. I feel it every day, regardless of whether you actually say the words.”

Alfred felt the prickling against the roof of his mouth scatter, and the corners of his lips lift. 

“I’m happy you get what I’m trying to say...”

The two of them continued to kiss as Arthur moved himself on top of his mate, one hand pinning Alfred against the bedding, another pulling the covers over their form, one instead of two given it was a warmer moon. Alfred’s right hand moved to help, but was batted away.

“Behave,” Arthur hissed, his lips hovering above his. “I’m in the process of spoiling you, so don’t you dare.”

“But you’re always nudging me off and grumbling when I try to kiss you when you come back into camp, right? And there was the incident with Francis walking in on-”

“Idiot!” 

Alfred kissed his cheek, then his lips. “You love it, don’t you?”

Arthur scoffed, but there was a telling lack of denial as he shuffled lower in the bed, resting his head against Alfred’s chest.

“I will admit, it felt brilliant to give Francis a fright like that. I suppose.”

“You guys are weird for two best friends…ow, my side…”

As they spoke, about the future, about the past day, about anything and everything at all, night passed slowly through the seam of their connected bodies. 

After two seasons had passed since the border incident and attending the Gathering for the first time, Dietrich had allowed him to resume duties near the border. Tension had simmered when Alfred had first attended, but it was clear the events of the previous moons had made it so his break from the Clan was final, clean.

Alfred only looked for the rest of his old family a little that night, but it seemed as if Matthew hadn’t attended, given that there were three direct subordinates and Berwald couldn’t bring all of them. Tino and his half-sister hadn’t been there that night, either, so Alfred only nodded at his sire, who didn’t exactly nod back. Yet those blue eyes, mirroring his, said all there was needed to say.

I’m glad you’re here.

Sleeping like this, Alfred was sure, was the best way an Alpha could get sleep. He’d had an exhaustive border patrol today. He’d thought about the relative success of the past few moons to try to put himself at ease, but it still wasn’t working. He’d even thought about standing at the river that formed part of the forest’s borders, but that would surely bring more harm than good, even if his sire was somehow there.

The snow - the coldness of the den, his sire’s tears at the edge of his crib…

Alfred wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he couldn’t close his eyes.

Then, just as the wind rustled past the trees outside their den, Arthur spoke again. 

“Can’t rest?”

“N-No.” 

The shifting of blankets. On any other day, Alfred would have been aroused by the sound, been aroused by Arthur’s movement in their bed, given with them, it was natural that one thing led to another. But it was because of a stone that was lodged in his throat that made his physical desire impossible, not because of his mate. 

Arthur sat up, arranging the blankets around his slender legs. Despite having put on some weight since the start of his pregnancy, coupled with the increased amount of food he was allocated, his body shape had remained relatively unchanged. 

“Arthur?”

“Come here,” the Omega said, the command clear even in the thick summer night. 

Alfred began to shift upwards, moving onto his knees, then he heard Arthur shake his head in the dark.

“Dolt.” The Omega patted his leg; the Alpha wasn’t sure which. “My lap. Lay down. You’ll have a better chance to sleep, I think.”

Alfred felt his cheeks heat - being between Arthur’s legs was one of the best places in the world, after all - but all erotic thoughts soon dissipated as he laid down, and his mate laid a hand against his hair.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Y-Yeah. Where did you get the idea from?”

A gentle sigh stirred the air around them.

“I used to have night whispers,” Arthur said. “At least - perhaps the gods were trying to speak to me then, before I became a healer. But it’s not as if it’s wholly unique to get night whispers, plenty of people Alpha and Omega alike get them in their childhood. The point is, my sire and bearer would take turns in the night laying with me, if I couldn’t go back to bed.”

The stone in his throat tightened around Alfred’s larynx, wrenching the fibres of muscle around it, but as soon as Arthur’s hand began to move against his hair, the grip relented. The touch of warmth against Alfred’s forehead seemed to draw long shadows against his own face, and before long, he had fallen asleep to the sound of Arthur’s caresses.

“Den’s still holding up,” one elder said, during a morning when Alfred was performing his set duties for the day in camp. “Good work.”

Alfred wiped at his lips with his second knuckle, raising his head to face them. “Nice! The south side should be resecured for now. If there’s any kinda dust or something falling, just let us know.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about patching it up for a good few seasons!”

“Good for him!” another elder added. “Word’s been going around that Arthur’s beginning to show. In six moons, the two of you - well, you’ll be a parent, won’t you?”

A parent.

Something in Alfred’s chest knotted unreasonably hard at that, and he had to fight to keep his smile. Thankfully, it seemed as if no one had particularly noticed, and after a goodbye, he gathered up the bowls from the elders, making his way back to the food prep area. 

It had been a few days since his and Arthur’s conversation, and Alfred had done his best to put it behind him as he had shut his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was his mate’s medical intuition, or the fact that they were mated, but Arthur was definitely correct in that he was able to fall asleep. The conversation had fallen away until now; in no small part to the fact that Toris had spent the past few days with him stepping up their battle practise.

“I didn’t know the two of you would share a heat so quickly,” his best friend had joked, “so I’ll do my best to help you get in some practise before Arthur gives birth.”

The way the deputy had worded it meant that Alfred hadn’t thought about his role as a parent; moreso thinking about the role he played as Arthur’s mate. That was what he had believed his best friend meant then, but now, thinking back to his words…

Now that Arthur was pregnant, Alfred had requested Toris to let him take on more roles inside the camp after their practise that day. Like most Alphas when their partners were expecting, Alfred planned to shift his duties entirely inside the camp in order to rear his child with Arthur, as was customary for mated pairs. 

A parent. A sire. Alfred felt as if he were back in the cave, tucking the one tribal bead that represented Berwald back into his pouch. He still held it to this day, in the den he shared with Arthur. It was one thing to think of his sire less, another to forget him entirely. 

Yet that was only one part of the equation, he thought as he continued to make his way upwards to the Alphas that were washing the bowls for the night. The other half was a complete blank slate, a place that would never be filled. It wasn’t as if he could just ask for an audience with Berwald, and his sire had never shared any details of his bearer. 

Unable to help himself, he scanned the visible perimeter of the camp, the sun beating down on his thinly covered shoulders. Nerves knotted his tongue as he noticed Arthur wasn’t there. He knew Toris had headed off on patrol - the two of them had chatted lightly before he had set off - and Laurentia was napping in her kennel after the afternoon meal, as all direpups did. 

“Hey, Alfred,” an Alpha called to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. Alfred saw that she had come down slightly from the food preparation area, holding a damp cloth. “Those for me?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah. From the elders.”

“Huh, okay,” she said, as she took one stack from him. “I thought Francis was doing a check on them today, since it’s half moon?”

“It was our rotation to check on the southside dens today, so I guess that fell to me. It’s okay, I’m free until sundown,” Alfred followed her, gesturing to the cloth. “I’ll help out a bit.”

“Right, Toris reorganised the rotations last quarter moon. You’re staying in the camp more to be with your mate, right?” At Alfred’s nod, the female Alpha smiled. “Congrats. You guys got lucky!”

“Yeah,” Alfred said, and he found that he couldn’t help but share in her smile. Ever since the border patrol skirmish, he had found that the extra warmth from his tribemates hadn’t fully subsided. With time, he hoped it would, but in the moment her friendliness stopped his pulse from skittering away further. “Really lucky. After everything, we’re glad to settle down, kinda.”

She whistled as the two of them sat down near the large tub they used for washing the bowls, Alfred grabbing a cloth.

“Not sure if you’ll be settling down, having a child and all. My younger brother and his mate says it’s hard work! I’m sure it’ll be better when Arthur gets less hunting duties, when it gets colder, but you’ll be raising your child together.”

“Yeah, but…I’m looking forward to it. I’ve always wanted kids, with someone I love,” Alfred admitted. “I wasn’t sure if I would be good with them, back in the Clan.”

“Oh, well. All the kids think Toris is super cool, so they think you’re cool, too.”

At that, the two Alphas laughed. Even as their chatter faded into small talk about how much the fledglings hated the current round of water-based combat training and how one of the direwolves gnawed a hole in their wooden cage, Alfred felt his thoughts die away again. The sun on his back and a friendly septmate was going further than he’d hoped. 

Then their duty ended and Alfred was left alone again at sundown. 

A sire. The evening meal came and went, but Arthur had to quickly consult on a medical case right afterwards, so Alfred decided to take Laurentia out for a night patrol along with Toris and Vilnius.

A sire. 

The words rang in his ears despite the cool winter wind. Toris tended to be quiet, a listener, while Alfred talked, but he couldn’t seem to find nearly as many words as he usually did. A parent.

A sire, the leaves rustled against his ears. The sound of his and Toris’s footsteps faded into one another. A parent.

Alfred and Toris returned home. The light above the medicine den was still alight, meaning the patient still needed both healers’ care. The two Alphas returned their direpups back to the kennels, then said their goodbyes. Alfred checked, and Arthur was still busy with his duties, meaning he himself would have to sleep alone tonight. It had happened a handful of times ever since they had moved into their separate den and Arthur had been reinstated to his post, but he ached for his mate more than anything tonight. 

Still, Arthur had his duties and Alfred had his. Alfred headed to bed.

A sire, the stars swirling around the midnight sky hissed. 

A parent.

Alfred didn’t dare to open his eyes.

The next time he did, however, a light had been turned on.

Arthur must be tired. When he comes back late after a procedure, he doesn’t turn them on…

Laurentia’s wolf-scent hit the back of his throat before he felt something nosing at him.

With a jolt, Alfred sprang backwards in what felt like a patch of grass rather than the comfortable bedding that stuffed his and Arthur’s nest. The air was heavy with the scent of growth, and as Alfred turned his head to see further, tendrils of ivy brushed into his golden blond hair.

A massive wolf, towering over him, was standing in front of where he was. Her elongated snout nudged towards him, her black, wet nose twitching as she observed him. As he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, more things came into focus: her ears were tufted, melting into dark grey fur at the very end, her pelt unbroken and smooth, almost gold in the sun. Laurentia’s wolf-scent was still there, but it was heavier, more grounded. Somehow, it reminded Alfred of the river, of the riverbank and the dancing rivulets as they darted past any open crevice, as if the direwolf in front of him was-

“You’re the progenitor wolf,” Alfred choked out. A god, in front of him. Of course, she would smell like his direpup, given that she was her mother. The progenitor wolf’s presence, if nothing, was enough for him to bow his head. Surely this was only a dream, but it still felt right.

A few moments passed that Alfred could count only in his own heartbeats, and then she spoke.

“So you have been the mortal watching over my daughter,” the progenitor wolf said. Her voice once again brought images of the river, of fast flowing water gliding over stone. Yet her voice arched and leapt, carrying the cadences of the way the Sept spoke but with much more weight behind each word. “Alfred.”

“My name - how did you-”

“I know every Alpha that takes care of my children,” the progenitor wolf rasped. “Every soul on this side of the river. You, more than most, understand that parents never truly let go of their children.”

Something at the base of Alfred’s neck hurt, but he forced himself to nod.

Silence stretched between god and mortal, before Alfred spoke.

“Thank you,” he said. Simple, but as he watched the progenitor wolf blink at him, something that needed to be said. “For letting me take care of Laurentia.”

“She judged you worthy, as a companion to guide her. I sensed she was grown enough to choose for herself, and so she was the first pup I let out of my sight.” The progenitor wolf tilted her head slightly lower to face him, the shadows of her ears towering over Alfred’s knees. “You must know what that means.”

“Y-Yeah. And…”

“Speak.”

“Thanks for giving Arthur his dreams again,” Alfred said. His finger scratched over the lower rough seam of his tunic. “I - I guess it’s not my place, but I can’t help but feel that he always was meant to be a healer, with his skills. And for a few moons, I took that away from him. But now he’s back to where he wants to be. Where he should be. And thanks for taking care of the Sept so much these few moons.”

The progenitor wolf settled down in front of the Alpha, her long, thick furred tail curling around her hindquarters. Alfred had half a mind to ask her for her title, or what she called herself, but remembered Arthur telling him that mortals were not qualified to do so.

“Your mate chose well,” she said. “And so did your tribe.”

Before Alfred could ask her to clarify, she continued. 

“You must know as to why I have come to visit you,” the progenitor wolf rumbled. From this angle and now she was sitting, Alfred could now see she had not opened her mouth to match the words. Was that a quality of the gods, or was it simply because he was in a dream?

That aside, maybe the dream was starting to wear on his common sense, because he couldn’t quite understand what the god was trying to say. Yes, he was honoured she had come to visit him, and the placidness of her imposing presence was causing Alfred to sweat a little, but with how pointedly she was speaking…

Maybe the Alpha had finally finished waking up, as the thought occurred to him so swiftly that he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t thought of it before.

“Y-Yes…” he mumbled, gaze fixed firmly at where his hands were clasped together. “Arthur and I are having a child.”

“I am aware,” the progenitor wolf said. “Yet the distress coming from you is not from that fact. Then, pray tell, what do you seek?”

“He’ll be a perfect bearer, I know it. If not perfect, at least really good. But for me…I don’t know. I’ll be a sire. I’ve never really known what that’s like, to work on raising a child together. Berwald raised me alone for a while, and then Tino came to help, but he soon had my half-brother, Matthew…”

Alfred watched the progenitor wolf’s large, oak brown eyes to see if she understood what he was speaking about.

“Speak more precisely on the wisdom you seek, lest you waste my blessing.”

“Uh,” Alfred blurted, without allowing himself to think. “I…I…”

“Do not squander my daughter’s trust in you,” she let out a faint growl, underpinning the words. “I have been observing your path ever since Amaxia chose you and allowed you to rename her, and you have brought me great intrigue. Thus, I have chosen to reward you with this opportunity.”

Amaxia, Alfred thought. Was that Laurentia’s milk-name, when she was still her mother’s daughter?

The little pup had grown substantially in the moons they had been training together. The Alpha could still remember when she had been so small, able to be cradled in his arms away from the clearing where she had chosen him, to yesterday, when she had been up to his thigh. Even now, he could think of his direpup, fast asleep in the dens, her hind legs kicking gently at the bedding.

“Then…” he said, hesitantly. “I want to see the memories of my bearer. Of why he left me and my sire. To see if I was a burden, or something he wanted.”

He watched the progenitor wolf for any sign of agreement or disagreement, but she did not stir. Unlike Laurentia, who was easy to read from her wagging tail and lolling jaw, her mother was mostly indiscernible.

Then the god rose, her limbs uncollapsing in a manner that reminded Alfred of Dietrich’s gait. She looked down at Alfred.

“Very well,” she said, parting her jaw in a half yawn. “I will allow you to do so.”

“Will you-” the Alpha had to make himself take a deep breath; he could faintly scent the fear in his own pheromones. “Will you take me to see him?”

“He is too far from our forest, too far from my sight,” she replied. “I can only show you his memories from when he was still in the Clan.”

“But you’re the progenitor wolf of the Sept, and the Clan has their own, which means…”

“We are the gods of this forest. Of course, my fellow god has allowed me to give your bearer’s memories to you, if only in this dream.”

Alfred’s throat tightened, and he had to clear it to speak again. 

“Will I be able to remember when I wake?”

“Yes, you will,” the progenitor wolf huffed, her ears twitching once then falling still. “I must ask once more, mortal. Do you wish to learn the truth, fully?”

Alfred felt his face fall at her foreboding words, but closed his eyes, steeling himself. He could acutely feel the grass underneath his skin again, the scent of the progenitor wolf coming over him in warm waves. He thought of the smoothness of Berwald’s tribal bead in his pouch and the gentle curve of Arthur’s bump, the voice of his mate. 

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation. “If I’m to be the best sire for our child as I can, and to be the best mate to my Omega…if learning the truth will let me do that, I will.”

The progenitor wolf’s tail skimmed the tip of the grass. “I cannot say for certain it will be so. Memories are limited by the one who holds them. If they remain unshared, then they may decay in detail and clarity.”

“I want to understand what happened,” Alfred insisted. “Then I can move on.”

“Very well. Close your eyes and empty your mind.”

Alfred took a deep breath just as the progenitor wolf touched her wet nose to his forehead, and the clearing around them fell away.

Alfred opened his eyes again. He looked down at himself; he could move his limbs somewhat, though he was fixed in place. Unlike his previous awakening from the dream, though, there was something different.

A woman was sitting in a dilapidated den in front of him, staring against the mud-baked walls, unmoving, unblinking. There was no scent, no sound, but as Alfred turned his head to the left, he could see the open plains of the Clan camp, the reeds wrapped around the storage hut they used for hay bales in the summer. Formless shapes, melted by sunlight, clustered around the small window. 

The sun drew harsh rays against her limp blond hair, falling in clumps around her shoulders. She turned her head slightly to the left for a moment, and Alfred felt his heart pound at the sallowness of her cheeks, the gauntness cupping her brown eyes as Alfred’s bearer left the den, entering his own.

It’s normal, a voice breathed into Alfred’s ears, wrapping around his senses. From the flat roll of the voice’s words, it was his former clanmates speaking.

For mates…it’s very difficult to go on living without the other. Impossible, in many cases.

I hope she can get her strength back up. But you shouldn’t…press her. 

Come away now, you’ll be of no help to your bearer here. 

Your sire died very tragically, you must understand. Your bearer sees her in you - your blond hair is the same dark shade, and you have her blue eyes instead of your bearer’s. Be kind.

Well, I can see if the healers can come take a look at her. But they already did the other day.

A knock on the door blew all the wispy voices, and Alfred - no, these were his bearer’s memories, he was seeing them from his point of view - turned to see Berwald.

Alfred had expected it to be terrifying, frightening almost. A side of his sire he had never seen. 

Yet when he looked at Berwald, there was something…familiar. Maybe it was the gangly limbs, the stoic eyes, the lack of a smile. Despite the person in front of him looking obviously younger, it was his sire without a doubt.

“Thanks for letting me come see you again,” Berwald said stiffly. His voice was muted, distorted, as if it had been held under water, but Alfred could hear him.

“...of course.” The voice came from underneath Alfred’s ribcage, and a touch of that was tinged with relief. His bearer’s voice was as altered as his sire’s, but there was a hardness to it.

“How are you feeling, ▇▇▇▇?” Berwald said, then his words became fully muffled, despite his mouth moving. 

That must have been his name. Berwald told me everyone forgot my bearer’s name, except him…

“I’m fine,” Alfred’s bearer said, the harshness persisting. “Look - I know you’re the leader’s son. But I’m fine. It’s not your duty to take care of me, I’m older than you.”

“No, I’m…” Berwald cleared his throat, as if to match, as if to say he wasn’t doing well, either. “I’m not - I know you can’t stand any more pity. That’s normal for anyone.”

“Normal? I don’t know what’s normal any more.”

“Can I sit down?”

Alfred’s vision swayed as his bearer nodded. The Alpha could see his bearer run a finger over his own knuckles as Berwald closed the door, leaving a slat of light to pour into the den.

“You remember when my, erm. My bearer passed away also.”

Alfred’s bearer didn’t speak, but Alfred remembered. Tino had told him about it - the wailing for Berwald’s bearer had gone on for almost three quarters of a moon. Would that be what he would talk about?

“It’s fine to be angry at your bearer, ▇▇▇▇,” Berwald said, blinking slowly as he spoke. “I was, for a time. I didn’t understand why my sire - I didn’t understand why she wanted to leave camp and never come back. I didn’t understand why she wanted to sedate herself with herbs until she never woke up. I didn’t understand why she couldn’t scent things the way she used to. For awhile. Don’t…tell this to anyone, if you don’t mind.”

“I won’t,” Alfred’s bearer said, the hoarseness in his voice so audible that Alfred could hear even through the distortion. “So…our leader…”

“Yes. Because her mate passed away. And if she wasn’t a leader, and if she didn’t have me, I think she might have. That’s why not everyone wants that sort of bond, or a mate.”

“But they - I don’t understand. She should want to get better, for me.”

Alfred winced as he saw Berwald hesitate. Had his bearer gone a step too far? 

“I don’t think they want it to be like that at all,” Berwald said. His voice was level, calm, the tone Alfred knew best. “The bond, that is. At the same time…my sire says that the mating bond is something that can’t be broken. It persists even in death. Sometimes, the bond calls for the living.”

I can’t imagine my bond with Arthur ever going away, Alfred thought to himself, closing his eyes. The low, faraway echo of his sire and bearer talking flooded his ribcage. Even in death.

My bearer never mated with my sire…is this why? Did he see it destroy his own family?

Alfred thought of the irrational agony that came when Arthur had left the cave to endure his heat alone, even before they were mated. How something as simple as not sleeping with Arthur in the same nest made him uncomfortable and restless nowadays. The scent of his mate was an instant balm to his senses; Arthur grounding him when he needed to be. At the same time, Alfred often found himself just staring at his Omega, fantasising about his Omega, of his taut shoulders when he pulled his bow back, the quirk of his lips as he teased Alfred.

When he opened his eyes, the memory had moved on.

...haven’t you heard? I mean, you could at least notice, ​​▇▇▇▇. 

Berwald’s the next leader of the Clan. He’ll need to have a capable mate standing at his side.

My advice for you is to become his mate…I know you don’t want to, but…

I don’t think the rumours are true, dear. Berwald loves you greatly, but the fact is that it’s concerning that you’ve not agreed to become his mate yet. 

Alfred blinked, and the woman from before was sitting in front of his bearer, holding his hands. From when he had last seen her, her health had improved somewhat, but there was a dullness to her violet eyes that now lingered, and there was a gauntness to how she moved her face. My grandbearer.