[whoops, posted at the wrong place there for a second. Sorry about the confusion!!]
The trouble started when Aramis brought d’Artagnan breakfast one morning. d’Artagnan thanked him and caught sight of Porthos glowering. Athos too looked tenser than usual. d’Artagnan narrowed his eyes slightly, what was going on? True, they frequently and good-naturedly teased each other and sometimes argued more seriously, but it was usually quickly forgotten. d'Artagnan greatly admired their depth of friendship and the clear affection and respect that they held for one another. He hoped one day to gain such a place among them.
Had something happened when he was not present, or was he dealing with three Alphas who couldn’t be professional around an Omega without posturing and possessiveness? That seemed unlikely, he'd seen how the three of them behaved towards Omegas, they were always respectful and pleasingly unpresumptous, Aramis was flirtatious but he never pushed when he truly wasn't wanted.
The three Alphas all froze, they could probably smell his disapproval. Their behaviour was better in patches after that. d’Artagnan privately admired their figures and fighting form, aloud he mocked them as much as they mocked each other and he appreciated that they never treated him like he was made of glass or as though he should be on his knees instead of sat beside them.
He liked them; he liked Aramis’s clever mouth and Porthos’s deep laugh and Athos’s intense stare. He liked how well they worked together – that boded well - and how they’d given him a chance to become part of that. He was attracted to them, as he was attracted to many Alphas, but with them, the feeling was deeper than just the simple desire to be under them for a night. Rather it was a sensation that he wanted to follow until he was pressed up against them permanently, breathing them in and baring his throat.
Athos was staring at him with dark eyes, Porthos had broken a plate, and Aramis was actually silent. Ah, they’d smelled that too.
d’Artagnan cleared his throat and went to order another bottle of wine, his heart thrumming wildly. He knew what he wanted, and now they knew too. He was surprised that they hadn’t noticed before, he’d been told that his scent could be particularly potent. They'd all been kept extremely busy recently though, with hardly any time spare to even take a breath, but now that the Captain had told them that they had at least a day to themselves, now that they knew d’Artagnan was more than willing and eager, surely now they could all have what they wanted?
When he returned to the table though, the others were all tense and staring at each other. It was not a happy atmosphere. d’Artagnan looked at them each in turn, his brow furrowed.
“Do I need to leave until you sort this out?”
“No,” was the quick answer he received from all three, which was gratifying but also a little bewildering.
Later, he noticed them silently arguing over who got to accompany him home, until d’Artagnan rolled his eyes and said loudly “I’ll have a message sent to Bonacieux.”
That paused the fight and Porthos sniffed loudly, a scowl overtaking his face. “Bonacieux, has he been touching you?”
d’Artagnan raised his eyebrows, this was getting ridiculous. “He’s my familial Alpha.”
The others all looked at each other, Athos speaking next. “You chose him, instead of…a Musketeer?”
“Choosing someone outside the barracks seemed sensible.”
The three exchanged another look and barely said anything as they all walked him home. d’Artagnan watched them leave with a face clouded with confusion. The following days were just as baffling, his friends were cordial and still treated him as an equal, they also still watched him avidly, causing his body to heat up. But they were very tense with each other, even confrontational on a couple of unfortunately memorable occasions, so confrontational that they almost came to blows. And none of them tried to scent-mark him or invite him to their lodgings. Whenever one of them touched d’Artagnan or suggested that they accompany him somewhere, they would then immediately look conflicted and strained.
d'Artagnan tried to discover what was wrong, but he couldn't get a true answer out of any of them. It was maddening. Constance took one look at him and went to find more wine.
“So which one is it?” she asked, with the air of someone bracing themselves for bad news.
d'Artagnan drained his cup of wine and then refilled it. “I could never choose between them.”
Constance frowned at him. “They aren't forcing you to, are they? Because if they are, I swear I'll...”
d'Artagnan waved off the very idea, slowly realising that perhaps there was a great deal he didn’t yet know about how Alpha and Omega relationships were conducted in Paris. He swallowed more wine before speaking.
“Is it unusual here for an Omega to have more than one Alpha?”
Constance coughed, laughed, and then looked at him with wide eyes. “You're serious. Is it unusual in Gascony?”
d'Artagnan shook his head. “My Aunt Nanette was bonded to two Alphas, and I have a third cousin who is an Omega bonded to another Omega and two Alphas.”
Constance was silent for a little while, pouring herself more wine. The very fact that she was silent told d'Artagnan a lot.
Eventually she took a breath and held his gaze “Explain to me how such a thing is possible.”
d’Artagnan frowned, how could he explain something that had been a fact of life for as long as he could remember? He tried anyway.
“It’s the way it is for some, my parents were a couple, my aunt found happiness with two Alphas. My father said that her spirit was too much for just one.”
Constance laughed softly, the Omega mark on the cusp of her neck for once not covered by the fall of her hair. She didn’t look aghast at d’Artagnan’s revelation, more like she was working to unknot it.
“And the bond took, with two Alphas?”
“Of course, a bond is unlimited. My aunt’s bond with her Alphas was assessed and pronounced good and strong.”
“And you think your fate is to be the same as your aunt’s?”
d’Artagnan paused and thought about it, that feeling eager and pulsing inside of him. A bond with his three friends? It would explain the irritation and frustration they were all exhibiting, especially if they believed that only one of them could bond with him. None of them were willing to hurt the others. It was both heartening and utterly frustrating.
He’d lain with two Alphas before, just as he had lain with only one. Both experiences had been filled with pleasure. He had not assumed that he would follow his parents’ path or his aunt’s, but he had assumed that he’d fully realise when a bond was beginning to form between him and someone else.
Constance smiled a little at his expression. “What do they smell like, to you?”
d’Artagnan relaxed automatically as he thought about it. “Warm metal and charcoal embers, and...”
“And home.”
d'Artagnan looked at her. Yes, there was a hint of the soil that he'd worked for so many years in Gascony, his father's barns, and the cool air of moonlight over that piece of land. His heart tugged.
“And you want those scents to stay with you.”
Constance wore a knowing expression and covered his hand with her own. The silence stretched between them, d'Artagnan truly absorbing his situation. He was beginning to bond with three Alphas, who might retreat from the very idea of such an apparently unconventional relationship. They might even ask him to leave the regiment. d'Artagnan would not choose only one of them; he wouldn't do that to them or himself.
Constance squeezed his hand. “Alphas need us. They won't be able to comprehend this without you, let alone truly become part of it.”
d'Artagnan cracked a sad but hopeful smile. “Is that what happened? You helped Bonacieux?”
“I made sure he knew in no uncertain terms that I wished to be his, yes.” Constance poured him more wine. “How else was I to get what I needed?”
d'Artagnan clinked his goblet against hers, familiar determination and a strength of feeling for his friends, his Alphas, unfurled within. Amen.
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timeasmymeasure
FILL: Not A Tragedy, d'Artagnan/Athos/Aramis/Porthos, Alpha/Omega, 2/?
Date: 2014-03-04 08:40 pm (UTC)The trouble started when Aramis brought d’Artagnan breakfast one morning. d’Artagnan thanked him and caught sight of Porthos glowering. Athos too looked tenser than usual. d’Artagnan narrowed his eyes slightly, what was going on? True, they frequently and good-naturedly teased each other and sometimes argued more seriously, but it was usually quickly forgotten. d'Artagnan greatly admired their depth of friendship and the clear affection and respect that they held for one another. He hoped one day to gain such a place among them.
Had something happened when he was not present, or was he dealing with three Alphas who couldn’t be professional around an Omega without posturing and possessiveness? That seemed unlikely, he'd seen how the three of them behaved towards Omegas, they were always respectful and pleasingly unpresumptous, Aramis was flirtatious but he never pushed when he truly wasn't wanted.
The three Alphas all froze, they could probably smell his disapproval. Their behaviour was better in patches after that. d’Artagnan privately admired their figures and fighting form, aloud he mocked them as much as they mocked each other and he appreciated that they never treated him like he was made of glass or as though he should be on his knees instead of sat beside them.
He liked them; he liked Aramis’s clever mouth and Porthos’s deep laugh and Athos’s intense stare. He liked how well they worked together – that boded well - and how they’d given him a chance to become part of that. He was attracted to them, as he was attracted to many Alphas, but with them, the feeling was deeper than just the simple desire to be under them for a night. Rather it was a sensation that he wanted to follow until he was pressed up against them permanently, breathing them in and baring his throat.
Athos was staring at him with dark eyes, Porthos had broken a plate, and Aramis was actually silent. Ah, they’d smelled that too.
d’Artagnan cleared his throat and went to order another bottle of wine, his heart thrumming wildly. He knew what he wanted, and now they knew too. He was surprised that they hadn’t noticed before, he’d been told that his scent could be particularly potent. They'd all been kept extremely busy recently though, with hardly any time spare to even take a breath, but now that the Captain had told them that they had at least a day to themselves, now that they knew d’Artagnan was more than willing and eager, surely now they could all have what they wanted?
When he returned to the table though, the others were all tense and staring at each other. It was not a happy atmosphere. d’Artagnan looked at them each in turn, his brow furrowed.
“Do I need to leave until you sort this out?”
“No,” was the quick answer he received from all three, which was gratifying but also a little bewildering.
Later, he noticed them silently arguing over who got to accompany him home, until d’Artagnan rolled his eyes and said loudly “I’ll have a message sent to Bonacieux.”
That paused the fight and Porthos sniffed loudly, a scowl overtaking his face. “Bonacieux, has he been touching you?”
d’Artagnan raised his eyebrows, this was getting ridiculous. “He’s my familial Alpha.”
The others all looked at each other, Athos speaking next. “You chose him, instead of…a Musketeer?”
“Choosing someone outside the barracks seemed sensible.”
The three exchanged another look and barely said anything as they all walked him home. d’Artagnan watched them leave with a face clouded with confusion. The following days were just as baffling, his friends were cordial and still treated him as an equal, they also still watched him avidly, causing his body to heat up. But they were very tense with each other, even confrontational on a couple of unfortunately memorable occasions, so confrontational that they almost came to blows. And none of them tried to scent-mark him or invite him to their lodgings. Whenever one of them touched d’Artagnan or suggested that they accompany him somewhere, they would then immediately look conflicted and strained.
d'Artagnan tried to discover what was wrong, but he couldn't get a true answer out of any of them. It was maddening. Constance took one look at him and went to find more wine.
“So which one is it?” she asked, with the air of someone bracing themselves for bad news.
d'Artagnan drained his cup of wine and then refilled it. “I could never choose between them.”
Constance frowned at him. “They aren't forcing you to, are they? Because if they are, I swear I'll...”
d'Artagnan waved off the very idea, slowly realising that perhaps there was a great deal he didn’t yet know about how Alpha and Omega relationships were conducted in Paris. He swallowed more wine before speaking.
“Is it unusual here for an Omega to have more than one Alpha?”
Constance coughed, laughed, and then looked at him with wide eyes. “You're serious. Is it unusual in Gascony?”
d'Artagnan shook his head. “My Aunt Nanette was bonded to two Alphas, and I have a third cousin who is an Omega bonded to another Omega and two Alphas.”
Constance was silent for a little while, pouring herself more wine. The very fact that she was silent told d'Artagnan a lot.
Eventually she took a breath and held his gaze “Explain to me how such a thing is possible.”
d’Artagnan frowned, how could he explain something that had been a fact of life for as long as he could remember? He tried anyway.
“It’s the way it is for some, my parents were a couple, my aunt found happiness with two Alphas. My father said that her spirit was too much for just one.”
Constance laughed softly, the Omega mark on the cusp of her neck for once not covered by the fall of her hair. She didn’t look aghast at d’Artagnan’s revelation, more like she was working to unknot it.
“And the bond took, with two Alphas?”
“Of course, a bond is unlimited. My aunt’s bond with her Alphas was assessed and pronounced good and strong.”
“And you think your fate is to be the same as your aunt’s?”
d’Artagnan paused and thought about it, that feeling eager and pulsing inside of him. A bond with his three friends? It would explain the irritation and frustration they were all exhibiting, especially if they believed that only one of them could bond with him. None of them were willing to hurt the others. It was both heartening and utterly frustrating.
He’d lain with two Alphas before, just as he had lain with only one. Both experiences had been filled with pleasure. He had not assumed that he would follow his parents’ path or his aunt’s, but he had assumed that he’d fully realise when a bond was beginning to form between him and someone else.
Constance smiled a little at his expression. “What do they smell like, to you?”
d’Artagnan relaxed automatically as he thought about it. “Warm metal and charcoal embers, and...”
“And home.”
d'Artagnan looked at her. Yes, there was a hint of the soil that he'd worked for so many years in Gascony, his father's barns, and the cool air of moonlight over that piece of land. His heart tugged.
“And you want those scents to stay with you.”
Constance wore a knowing expression and covered his hand with her own. The silence stretched between them, d'Artagnan truly absorbing his situation. He was beginning to bond with three Alphas, who might retreat from the very idea of such an apparently unconventional relationship. They might even ask him to leave the regiment. d'Artagnan would not choose only one of them; he wouldn't do that to them or himself.
Constance squeezed his hand. “Alphas need us. They won't be able to comprehend this without you, let alone truly become part of it.”
d'Artagnan cracked a sad but hopeful smile. “Is that what happened? You helped Bonacieux?”
“I made sure he knew in no uncertain terms that I wished to be his, yes.” Constance poured him more wine. “How else was I to get what I needed?”
d'Artagnan clinked his goblet against hers, familiar determination and a strength of feeling for his friends, his Alphas, unfurled within. Amen.
(tbc)