Chapter Text
The winter months were officially coming to an end. The cold winds had softened to cool breezes that ruffled Peter’s hair as he sketched in the garden. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he thought about what those cool breezes heralded. The summer would be upon them before Peter was ready to say goodbye to those fresh flowers and the blades of grass springing up from the ground, triumphant over the early spring frosts. He decided then, resolutely, to enjoy these spring afternoons before the summer sun beat him back inside with its cruel rays. Ah, but then after the summer was over autumn could blow in. Autumn with its colorful leaves and its refreshing chill, that could be Peter’s favorite. The squash would be ripe then. The nights would be chilly enough to warrant a large fire which Peter could read in front of. Then, once the lovely autumn was over, the winter with its biting cold and bare trees would return. Life came in cycles, Peter surmised. Cycles of good met with cycles of bad. This afternoon, for instance, was a good cycle. Peter was free to read and sketch and eat sweet berries to his heart’s content. But supper would arrive soon enough, and Peter would have to lie to his aunt and uncle’s faces yet again. Peter heaved a deep sigh. He didn’t enjoy lying to them, really he didn’t. His ears got hot and his nose tickled everytime. Unfortunately, he had to. He had to lie or Aunt May and Uncle Ben would be disappointed yet again. Perhaps they already knew. Deciding to leave those worrisome thoughts for later, Peter refocused his attention on his sketch book. He was working on a large, wicked-looking dragon. Its eyes seemed to glare from the page as he added some shadows beneath the powerful wings. The dragon seemed angry at being sketched. Peter worried his lip between his teeth and clutched his sketchbook to his chest as a pair of guards walked by. They nodded their heads in a respectful bow as they passed, one’s eyes lingered on him a moment too long. Peter rolled his own eyes. Just in case that wasn’t clear enough, he added a ‘hmph’ just in case. The guard’s head snapped forward, likely embarrassed at being caught. Content with his reaction, Peter went back to his sketchbook. He’d smudged charcoal on his lovely white shirt.
Soon enough, Peter was called to supper. He’d swiftly changed into something more appropriate for dining before bounding down the great stairs and into the dining hall. He could hear his aunt giggling in response to something his uncle had said. Her hand gently swatted at the other Beta playfully. Peter smiled to himself as his chair was pulled out for him. Uncle Ben cleared his throat, looking pointedly at Peter.
“Did you have a good day, then? Sketching in the garden?” Peter nodded, mouth already full of delicious food. The bread tonight smelled divine. “I am glad to hear it. Have you given any more thought to the proposal?” Peter nearly choked on his soup. “We do need an answer, you know.” His uncle continued.
“The bread tonight smells divine.” Peter obfuscated.
His uncle leveled him with a reproachful look. Aunt May continuously wound and unwound a napkin in her lap.
“Peter…” Uncle Ben began one of his famous lectures and Peter prepared himself mentally. Only, this time Uncle Ben fell silent. He sighed deeply, looking almost as if he’d given up. A minute passed in that sad sort of silence before Peter couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Ben. I just-it’s just that-well, I don’t love him. I don’t love him and I cannot imagine marrying someone if I don’t. I mean, what sort of life would that be? Dreading every meal, every night because I have to be around some bigheaded, idiot Alpha? I just.. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Uncle Ben’s disappointed stare had become crestfallen.
“Peter, you have had more proposals than a bird has feathers. When are you going to find one you like? How do you even know you don’t like this one? Have you spent any time with Alpha Prince Jonathon? According to the guard, you insulted him before being properly introduced! You must give them a chance, Peter. How can they meet these expectations of yours if you don’t give them a chance to even know them?”
Peter stared down at his bowl of soup, ears flaming and nose itching.
“I will, Uncle Ben. I promise I will. He just… he seemed so rude.” Uncle Ben let out a frustrated noise.
“He seemed ‘rude’? ‘Rude’ how?”
“He was… staring at me. He kept staring at my legs and it made me uncomfortable. Then, when he was introduced, he grabbed my hand and laid the nastiest, wettest kiss I have ever received to the back of my hand. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself! He was grabbing at me before I could even open my mouth! So yes, I admit I insulted him and I am sorry. Sorry to you, but not to that Alpha Prince! I meant it when I called him a great big, knot-headed oaf!”
Aunt May snorted and quickly covered it up with a fake cough into her napkin at Uncle Ben’s side-eyed look.
“Peter you cannot just go around calling Alphas-“ Uncle Ben struggled to say the word, Aunt May (un-)helpfully supplied ‘knot-headed’ “oafs! You cannot! You are an Omega Prince, not a common sailor. That language is highly inappropriate, especially when speaking to foreign royalty. The Alpha Prince was absolutely scandalized and now I must smooth things over with his father who already views your aunt and I as inferior. Do you realize what sort of position you’ve put me in?”
Peter did feel a bit guilty about that. He did try not to bring shame onto the family, he just seemed to stumble into it every turn he took. Aunt May gave him a sort of pitying look.
“Peter, darling, we understand your… trepidation but there really is nothing to worry about. You’ll find a nice Alpha to settle down with and I promise you’ll be perfectly happy!”
Peter’s ears were on fire, his nose twitching uncontrollably as he answered: “I know, Aunt May. I know.”
She looked at him knowingly, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, she allowed them to eat in peace for a few minutes before Uncle Ben laid out a piece of parchment. Aunt May looked anywhere but Peter when he did.
“Do you know what this is, Peter?” When he was given no response, he continued. “These are the bylaws regarding birthright in Yorke. Do you know what these bylaws say regarding the royalty’s birthright?”
Peter said nothing, staring resolutely at his piece of buttered bread.
“They say, Peter, that an unbonded Omega has no right to the throne. The throne cannot be ruled by an Omega alone, there must be an Alpha by their side. Peter, if you are not bonded you cannot rule Yorke. End of story. Do you see why we have been pushing you on this?”
“You two rule the kingdom as betas, why should the rules apply to me and not to you?” Peter grumbled, only half meaning it. Uncle Ben somehow heard. Curse him and his inconveniently strong hearing. Uncle Ben’s voice became sharper and louder with each word.
“The rules, Peter, apply to us the same as you. Your aunt and I are not truly ruling Yorke. We are simply placeholders until you are bonded to an Alpha and crowned as king. You will be bonded, do you understand me?”
Peter sucked in a deep breath. He’d known for a long time what was expected of him, but Uncle Ben had never spoken this way with him. He could feel his eyes stinging, at the surprise of being very nearly yelled at, the fear of the looming threat that was bonding, and at his guilt for having disappointed his aunt and uncle for so long. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words could squeeze out past the lump in his throat. Instead, he managed a shaky nod of his head. When he risked a glance upwards at the two of them, Uncle Ben looked guiltily at his own meal. Aunt May was holding in her own tears as she stared out the window.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Ben.” Peter could only manage a whisper.
“No, Peter. I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be this way, I really do. Sometimes, we must make choices and do things that we don’t really like for the betterment of the kingdom.” Uncle Ben raised his head to meet Peter in the eyes. “With great power comes great responsibility, son.”
Peter nodded, his voice completely given up on him. He’d lost his appetite, the bread smelling sour in his nostrils. Without another word, the Omega Prince stood, and walked alone to his bedchambers. Once inside the comforting walls, he released a sob and stumbled towards his desk. There, he found one of his journals, the one detailing his first real piece of information on dragons. He opened to the middle of his journal, reading the first sentence that stood out to him:
And finally, I have found my true purpose. The pursuit of knowledge: for what could give a better chase?
Allowing himself to cry, he thumbed at the page, rubbing out his tears as they fell. It was all he’d ever wanted: to learn more about these incredible beasts who once ruled the earth with deadly power. Yet even that, he was not allowed. Dragons had been considered extinct for years, and now the very knowledge of them was well on its way to extinction. Now, they were no more than a fairytale used to frighten children into obedience. Literature regarding dragons was outlawed throughout the kingdoms, bardsong detailing them was as well. Peter had fought for every scrap of information he had gained. Through the years he had gained very little, but what he had he cherished. With each piece, however small, of information he had felt that much closer to his parents. He stared out the window as he pictured them as they had been painted in their portrait. Peter imagined them searching high and low for any sort of sign, any inkling that a way could be found… a way to defeat the dragons and protect their home. A sentimental part of him supplied: to protect their only son. They had left when he was young, young enough to still need a wetmaid. His aunt and uncle told him that they sought information, that they were people of science. Yes, they had gone to find a way to defeat the dragons, but they had never returned. Peter was left to grow up without them. He’d never been alone, no he’d had Aunt May and Uncle Ben. They were the best parents a person could wish for, but still Peter longed to speak with his mother and father. Just once would be enough, he told himself. Just once to know if they had understood the sacrifice they had made. But, no. Peter had wonderful parents and if it hadn’t been for his wetmaid Madeline, he’d have never met her daughter Mary Jane who had become his best friend in the whole world. She was an Omega, like him. Often, Peter felt like no one else could truly understand him. Now, he longed for the comfort in her arms, her soft trilling, but he was also loath for her to see him like this. He could imagine what she would say:
“Silly, young Omega. All upset over your birthright. Don’t you know that most people would kill for your position? Bonding or not, you hold a kingdom in your hand.”
She would be right. She was always right. Gwen would agree with her, surely. The Alpha was never afraid to chastise him when he really needed it. And Harry… oh, he didn’t even want to think about what Harry would say! Instead Peter stripped himself down, pulled on his nightclothes without letting go of his journal, and settled himself in bed. The book’s hard edges dug into him as he closed his eyes, but still he refused to let it go. He repeated those words over and over to himself as he drifted off:
And finally, I have found my true purpose. The pursuit of knowledge: for what could give a better chase?