Chapter Text
"You'll grow to love him," his mother tells him as she secures the obi around his slim waist. It's a task meant for the young servant girls but this will be her last moment of privacy with her only child for a long time. She walks around to face him, settling her dainty fingers on his shoulders, a doleful smile on her face. "It will be impossible for him not to fall in love with you."
Tooru keeps his head lowered in preparation for his new position. For eighteen years, he has always been held in high regard. He's a prince. The son of a king whose influence stretches far and wide. Nonetheless, Tooru was also born an omega and regardless of the blood that courses through his veins he was born to be acquiescent.
The throne that is his, by birthright, will go to his half-sibling; a female alpha who his father brought back with him following the war over eight years ago. Although the girl's mother is a nameless whore without an ounce of royal blood in her body, it's her offspring that will lay claim to what Tooru has always wanted. It burns him with an envy like no other every single time he thinks about how he's being sold off to some savage prince while that bitch—
"Tooru, you'll ruin your face," his mother says, fretting over him with a handkerchief as she pats at the hot tears that roll down his cheek, "I'm so sorry but this is the only way. Kiyoko will be queen and you, my dear, you have to stay strong, Tooru. It's the only thing you can do."
Tooru looks into the eyes of his mother— the woman who birthed him, fed him at her breast, and raised him without handing the task off to the wet nurse like so many women in her position would have— he wordlessly pleads with her to not make him go through with this. His mother understands his unspoken plea yet she lowers her head and pretends not to notice.
She walks over to the vanity to pick up the ornaments for Tooru's hair. "Which ornaments would you like to wear today, Tooru?"
Expression hardening, Tooru digs his nails into the palms of his hands, his eyes piercing like knives. "Just pick one," he says, tone clipped, "It's not like you've ever had an issue with making my decisions for me."
Wordlessly, his mother picks the ornaments she thinks looks best and adds them to Tooru's hair. She's almost done when there's a tap on the shoji screen. The servant girls are there for the final preparations before the ceremony begins.
Per his mother's instructions, Tooru is given a heady wine that she claims is meant to help ease his nerves but he knows that it's meant to make his scent sweeter and more appealing than it is at the moment.
"Drink all of it," his mother says, using her index finger to tilt the saucer up.
Tooru has a good mind to spit the wine in his mother's face. But like the obedient son he is, he tilts his head back and drinks it all up. A servant girl is there instantly to pat the corners of his mouth, careful not to smudge his red painted lips. Afterward, his mother tells him that he's a beautiful bride and that she is proud of him as she hugs him tightly.
Tooru doesn't return her hug. He stands there, arms lying limping at his sides, hidden under the heavy sleeves of his kimono. His heart aches because as much as he despises his mother right now, he still loves her, and it pains him to be betrayed by her of all people. When the one-sided embrace is over, they make their way to the grand hall where the guests are waiting. He finds himself grateful for the wine as it grants him the courage he needs to put one foot in front of the other.
Hundreds are in attendance for the union between two great nations, though, a handful of them are there to witness the prideful prince submit like he was bred to do. Alphas whom Tooru publicly rejected in the past or bested in some sport that wasn't meant for omegas to take part in are taking a sadistic delight in watching him walk down the aisle knowing that with this marriage he will not only lose any claim he might have had to the throne but his pride as well.
Up until now, it's been the one thing that Tooru has always held over others' head. His title, his importance. Now he will be left with nothing. Still, Tooru holds his head high.
It doesn't hurt that he's beautiful.
The kimono he's wearing is an unnecessarily extravagant mesh of colors and fabric with wide sleeves and a long tail that has a dove embroidered on it. Aside from his face, Tooru's neck is the only piece of flesh that's allowed to be visible and it's not without a reason. His long hair is pulled up into a neat bun, silver ornaments adorning it, to reveal the unmarked glands on the nape of his neck.
They want it to be known that he is unmarked and untouched; that he's pure for his betrothed.
Tooru feels like prized cattle.
At the front of the grand hall, standing on a raised dais is the kingdom's high priest, a shrine maiden, Tooru's father, and Tooru's betrothed who stands with his broad back facing the audience.
Tooru has never seen Iwaizumi Hajime a day in his life but he's heard rumors of the man's brutish nature.
During his morning bath, Tooru overheard his handmaidens giggling about the size of the prince's form and the darkness of his skin.
Their allies in the south are not as refined as them, Tooru's mother once told him when he was younger.
They’re a warrior people who settle their disagreements with bloodshed instead of intellectual debates like they do here in the west.
It's disgraceful.
There's no way that Tooru will survive in a place like that.
Reaching the altar, Tooru stops and stands next to the southern prince. They're both ordered to kneel on the provided satin pillows and they remain that way throughout the ceremony. Two servant girls have to assist Tooru in the task and he is thankful. While the priest drones on and on about duties between alpha and omega, Tooru steals glances at the prince out the corner of his eye.
The handmaidens were right. The prince is very large, even for an alpha, though, he's a few inches shorter than Tooru, and Tooru takes a little pride in that. As for the alpha's skin, it isn't as dark as the naive girls made it out to be. In their defense, they're accustomed to the pale complexions that are often seen around the kingdom. Still, the alpha's coloring stands out but not in a necessarily bad way. It's just different. Even the prince's eyes are a peculiar shade.
Tooru catches a glimpse of those green eyes when the alpha glances in his direction. Of course, Tooru quickly looks away and keeps his eyes downcast for the remainder of the ceremony. Until it's time for him to kiss the prince, that is. Slowly turning his head, Tooru finally looks at the prince full on and he can't say that he's terribly disappointed with what he sees.
Sadly, Tooru isn't given the opportunity to stare for too long. Suddenly, Hajime touches the sides of Tooru's face, his sizable hands warm and calloused. He softly presses his chapped lips to Tooru's painted lips and then he moves away. It can barely be considered a kiss at all but it's enough for the marriage to be finalized. And as much as Tooru wasn't looking forward to any of this, he somehow feels cheated.
The wedding celebrations are held at their palace as is in their customs but tomorrow, Tooru will leave the only home he's ever known behind for a new home. At the reception, Tooru's mother slips him more wine to prepare him for the big finale.
Is he upset that, instead of spending this time to cherish their final moments together, his mother is trying to get him drunk so that he'll be easier for his husband to screw? Of course, not. Tooru isn't upset at all. Actually, he's furious, and it's becoming a task to mask that, along with the other emotions he’s feeling, thanks to the amount of wine he's had and how uncomfortable his kimono is.
It doesn't help that his half-sister is seated at his father's side where Tooru once sat not too long ago. The fact that they don't even have the decency to wait until he's gone before they replace him, further infuriates Tooru. From his place on the stage next to his husband, Tooru watches with envy as his father laughs at something Kiyoko says, how his father looks at the product of his infidelity as though she’s worth more than his own legitimate son, and apparently she is because she is the one who will carry on the king’s legacy.
During his time over in the east fighting off foreign invaders, Tooru’s father spent his ruts at a brothel, buried deep between the thighs of whichever omegan whore’s scent appealed to him at the time. And that is how Kiyoko came into the picture.
Tooru will never forget the day his father brought that child into their home. It makes him physically ill just thinking about it.
Seemingly oblivious to the rage boiling inside his new bride, Hajime plays his role as a foreign royal perfectly. He only speaks when he's spoken to unless he's speaking to the few men he brought along with him from the south. Whenever anyone gives them a wedding gift, Hajime accepts the gift on their behalf. Probably because it's no secret that Tooru isn't in the socializing mood.
Hajime doesn't sound like how Tooru imagined him to sound. He doesn't sound like a mindless brute who favors bloodshed over debates. Tooru is even impressed with how fluent Hajime is in the Western tongue, and he has to admit that Hajime's accent is endearing. Regardless, he's still wary of this stranger. He'll wait to see how civil the alpha is when they're alone.
Which won't be too long from now because Tooru's father is now standing up, the great room thrown into silence by the action. With a wave of the king's hand, servants shuffle out of the far corners of the banquet hall to gather the newlywed's gifts. Their gifts will be packed into carriages for their long journey tomorrow. For once, Tooru isn't all that excited about the prospect of gifts or traveling to unseen places.
His father gives a short speech about duty and honor that Tooru half-listens to. Instead, he thinks about the many places he'd rather be right now than here. He thinks about all the chances he's had to run away, to avoid this fate. However, his naivety and blind trust in his parents led him to his own demise. Every omega who is born to a king or queen, rather they be legitimate or illegitimate, will never have a claim to the throne. It has been like that for centuries.
The best that Tooru can hope for is that his husband will do right by him in all ways. Though he's sure that is highly unlikely.
Tooru is jerked back to the reception hall when his handmaidens come to prepare him for his wedding night. Reluctantly, he allows them to escort him to the private chambers that have been set aside for that "special" occasion.
"Get me some wine," Tooru orders one of the girls once he's freed from his kimono, only a sheer robe covering him,
The girl meekly bows her head and turns to fetch the wine. As she's stepping out of the washroom, Tooru's mother is hurriedly walking in. At the sight of her, Tooru scowls.
"Are you here to walk me through it?" he snidely asks.
She ignores the snub. "This is a very important moment, Tooru. Your marriage to Iwaizumi-sama's son ensures the realm maintains its fragile peace. You must also keep the prince happy because it ensures your own safety and happiness."
Tooru scoffs, "Are you saying that if I just lay down and let him mount me like a bitch, it'll be best for me?"
"You are an omega, Tooru. Never forget that."
Tooru grits his teeth.
"Get rid of your pride," his mother tells him, her eyelashes damp with tears, "It will do you no good anymore. Your father and I are partial to blame for the way you are. We should have prepared you for this early on but I didn't want you to grow up like I had."
"I'm scared," Tooru confesses quietly, "I don't want to go through with this. Please, don't make me do it."
His mother hugs him. "I'm sorry, Tooru. But this is the reality for us omegas."
Tooru wants to yell at his mother, blame her for this, for everything but he's well aware that his mother has never truly had a say so in anything. Even as the queen, his mother has always lived under a short leash. It will be the same for Tooru.
The handmaiden returns with the wine. Tooru and his mother share a brief drink together, and then she departs. Her only advice for him tonight is to let his instincts take full control in place of his mind. He isn't sure if he can do that but he doesn't seem to have a choice.
If the marriage isn't consummated tonight, the Iwaizumi clan have the right to null the marriage. With no marriage, that means no treaty, and with no treaty, that means war.
With his hair no longer in a bun and his face clear of makeup, Tooru doesn't feel as regal in the loose, satin yukata he's wearing. He feels small and afraid during the short walk through the ensuite to the bedroom where his husband waits. The absence of his handmaidens has never been missed until now. They've always been a constant in his life, hovering around him whenever he wakes or prepares for sleep. Now his husband will fill that role.
A lump forms in Tooru's throat, his eyes stinging with tears. He tries to look at the bright side. Hajime isn't hideous so that should make this a little easier for him. The wine isn't doing what Tooru hoped it would, though. His head feels fuzzy and his face feels warm but it does nothing for his buzzing nerves or racing thoughts. If anything the wine seems to intensify his anxiousness.
Tooru steps into the bedroom to see Hajime standing up, his bare back facing him. The alpha's lack of clothing shouldn't startle Tooru as much as it does. This is their wedding night. He's certain that he will see more than just Hajime's chiseled back.
As a distraction from the alpha's partial nudeness, Tooru glances around the lavishly decorated bedroom filled with books they wouldn't be reading and art they wouldn't be admiring. What a poor choice of decor for a honeymoon suite.
His eyes are scanning the remainder of the room, taking in the sitting area in the far corner, and the many lit candles, and the broad chest that's right in front of him. Tooru's eyes snap shut in shock. Opening them again, he adjusts them to the image of Hajime standing in front of him, his face an unreadable mask. Tooru gasps when Hajime clasps his chin with his right hand, his gaze piercing.
"You're anxious," Hajime whispers, it's the first thing he's said to Tooru all night.
Tooru knows it isn't a question yet he nods his head anyway.
Hajime frowns, his thick eyebrows coming to meet in the center of his forehead. "Do you understand what they expect of us?" he asks.
Tooru feels like crying. "Yes," he says.
Swallowing thickly, Hajime drops his hand from Tooru's chin and takes him by the hand, leading the omega to the futon with sluggish steps as if he's walking them to the executioner. They sit on the futon, their thighs touching. Tooru is grateful that Hajime hasn't fully undressed yet. The alpha is still wearing a pair of black undergarments that stop short of his knees. He tries to count the scars on Hajime's legs to calm his nerves but then Hajime is kissing him.
Hajime kisses Tooru on the cheek first, almost as if he's testing the waters. Tooru has no idea how to react to it so he just sits there, fingers playing with the hem of his sleeves. His hands tremble when the alpha kisses him on the neck, his hot breath tickling Tooru's earlobe, pulling a low whine from the omega. Hajime kisses him again in the same spot.
The kisses aren't unwelcome. At least not entirely. It's just that Tooru knows nothing about Hajime and he would like to know something about him before they did all the things that were required of them.
You are an omega, Tooru. Never forget that.
Tooru eyes began to water. That's right. He's an omega and rather he liked it or not, this is what he was born to do. Biting down on his lip, Tooru raises his trembling hands to the slash that keeps his yukata secured and pulls it loose. Beside him, Hajime stiffens. As the fabric slides off his pale shoulders, Tooru lowers himself to the futon, his back touching the cold sheets. He shivers, feeling the cool breeze on his bare skin, his nipples hardening in reaction.
Hajime's eyes take the omega in, darkening with lust. Unable to hold his tears back, Tooru turns his head to the side and closes his eyes. He wants Hajime to hurry up and get it over with so that he can go to sleep. He's startled when he feels the alpha pulling the sleeves of his yukata up to cover his shoulders.
"I can't do this," Hajime says, fully covering the omega's body with the yukata.
Tooru's eyes snap open, his head lifting to get a good look at the alpha. "You can't do this?" he asks, frowning in confusion, "Is something wrong with me?"
"There is nothing wrong with you, Tooru."
"Then what's the problem?"
Hajime moves over to his side of the futon. "You're crying!" he exclaims in exasperation. Sighing, he lowers his voice, "If this isn't something you want, I'm not going to make you do it."
"But if we don't consummate the marriage—"
"Let me worry about that."
"They'll know if we did it or not." There was no way for them to lie about it. He's also worried that he has upset Hajime and that won't do good for their union. "I won't cry," he promises, "I'll be a good omega."
Hajime turns on his side, facing Tooru, his large bicep serving as a pillow for his head. "You don't even sound right saying that." He smiles. "You'll be a good omega. Do you even know what that means?"
Tooru has to take a while to come to the conclusion that Hajime is teasing him. Mimicking the alpha's position, Tooru rolls to his side.
"You don't know me well enough to know what does or doesn't sound right on my lips," Tooru says haughtily, "I know more about being an omega than you'll ever know."
"I know enough about you. As for my knowledge of omegas." Hajime winks. "I am well versed."
Tooru scoffs, his lips quirking, "What could you possibly know of me?"
Hajime rubs his chin, pretending to be in deep thought. "This marriage isn't of your choosing," he says.
Gasping theatrically, Tooru's eyes broaden in feigned shock. "How did you figure that out?"
"I have my ways," Hajime says with a mystical flair.
Tooru snorts. Then, Tooru rolls over to his back, his hands coming up to muffle his laughs. He doesn't think he's laughed like this ever since his father announced his marriage to the southern prince nearly a month ago. The laughter continues until reality gradually returns. Staring at the high, vaulted ceiling Tooru remembers what his mother told him about his duties to his kingdom. Hajime is nothing like Tooru expected but this could be a farce.
"How will you convince them that we consummated our marriage?" he asks, his tone diplomatic.
Hajime, who has been staring at Tooru this entire time, says, "They'll take my word for it but it'll be easier if you carried my scent..."
No one as ever scent marked Tooru. At least not intimately. He is going to allow Hajime to do so only because it is necessary. This has nothing to do with his curiosity to find out how the alpha smells because for some reason he hasn't been able to pick up on his scent all night and he's dying to know.
"How will you do it?" Tooru asks, his high cheekbones flushing at his inexperience.
"I'll just rub up against you. Will that be alright?"
"Okay..."
Hajime curls his arms around Tooru's torso, bringing the omega closer to his side, securing him in his natural warmth. Pressing his cheek against Tooru's cheek, the alpha begins rubbing against the soft skin, rousing both their scents. However, Tooru's sweet scent is overpowered by the scent of cinnamon and something earthy. He assumed that Hajime's scent would be potent considering his caliber yet he wasn't expecting this. Tooru can feel his mental control slipping, the tenseness in his muscles loosening, and an unknown sensation coiling in his belly. His skin feels hot.
"That should do it," Hajime says, his voice thick.
Tooru's chest heaves, his breathing shaky, as his senses slowly return to him. Through unfocused eyes, he stares up dazedly at Hajime, his eyes asking a question that his mouth is currently unable to ask.
"I'm next in line to the throne," Hajime explains, "that makes me a natural pack leader."
Tooru should know that considering he's the son of the king. Still, experiencing the power of a pack leader like this is different. It's honestly terrifying because despite Hajime being understanding tonight, there is no guarantee how long the alpha's patience will last. And, with a scent like that, Tooru won't be able to put up much of a fight.
"Get your rest. We'll be leaving at dawn."
The alpha is still cradling Tooru in his arms with no intention of relinquishing his hold unless Tooru asks him to. It's not terribly uncomfortable so Tooru doesn't make a fuss over it. He ignores the tiny voice in the back of his mind that tells him that he isn't making a fuss about it because he likes being held like this, he likes feeling treasured. It's a lie. Tooru is just exhausted from a long day, that's all.
Secretly, Tooru wishes that Hajime will always be like this. He wouldn't mind being married to the alpha if that was the case.