Chapter Text
Auguste was the first to notice. Laurent didn't realise at the time just how important that would ultimately turn out to be.
Dismounting from his horse, Laurent wiped away the sheen of sweat clinging to his brow. It had been a hard and relatively close race, but Auguste had of course won, because he hated how Laurent glared at him balefully whenever he tried to let Laurent beat him (and Laurent could always tell, because Auguste was ridiculously transparent). As Laurent brushed past his brother to hand the reins over to a servant, Auguste audibly gulped in a breath and his body jerked back ever so slightly, as if involuntarily. But his expression when Laurent frowned up at him wasn't one of repulsion, as if Laurent had unknowingly done something to drive him away; he merely looked surprised.
"You're growing up, that's all," Auguste offered, as if that were any kind of proper explanation. "It's hard to believe. It seems like only yesterday you were blunting my sword by dragging it along the ground because you just had to prove wrong anyone who said it weighed too much for such a little boy."
Laurent rolled his eyes. "Well we can't all have been practically born with a sword attached to our arms," he griped without feeling.
Auguste smiled and managed to ruffle Laurent's hair despite Laurent ineffectually batting his hand away. And all was normal once more, as if Auguste had never pulled back from him.
Laurent didn't think on that brief moment of strangeness again until a full week later. After the evening meal, Father gave Laurent his full attention for the first time in what seemed like years. His eyes narrowed, he inhaled deeply, and then he sighed in disappointment.
"It's probably just as well," King Aleron clearly forced himself to say after a moment, as if he had resolved to look on the bright side. "It could actually be more beneficial to Vere's interests if we can match you with an alpha rather than being limited to the class of wife who would settle for a second son. You're certainly pretty enough for powerful men to consider you a catch."
It was Laurent's turn to balk, momentarily confused. The rising whispers he could hear bandied between courtiers quickly cleared that up, though. Their mouths tarred him with an unwanted label.
"You knew," Laurent accused as soon as he found Auguste after Father had shooed him away. "You figured out that I'm an omega and you didn't warn me."
"Warn you?" Auguste repeated blankly. "About what?"
"That my life is over!" Laurent cried.
Auguste unexpectedly chuckled. It was a mark of Laurent's faith in his beloved older brother that he didn't even for a second register the possibility that Auguste's laughter might be mean-spirited at his expense. "Laurent, it's not like that. Just give it time. You'll see it's hardly the end of the world. I expect very little will change, in fact. You'll just have the whole court even more firmly wrapped around your finger than ever. Not to mention that the commons will all fall over themselves just trying to catch a glimpse of their beautiful Omega Prince."
Despite Auguste's predictions, though, things did change, and quickly. Courtiers who had more or less ignored Laurent as the far less important spare heir now suddenly treated him like some fascinating exotic creature. Part of Laurent dearly wanted to complain, but he bit it back. Father maintained that whining was childish, and apparently Laurent was growing up now, after all. He didn't know what protesting would achieve anyway. Perhaps he should just acknowledge that this thing that he would never have chosen for himself had somehow been all it took to reduce him to nothing more than a spectacle.
But Auguste seemed so sure that it didn't matter. And if there was anything that Laurent himself was sure about, it was that Auguste's words could be relied upon.
He had to remember that Auguste's first reaction upon realising what Laurent was hadn't been disappointment or disgust. Neither had he displayed any particular increase in brotherly protectiveness in the face of Laurent's newly-revealed weakness. Auguste didn't even seem to accept that his baby brother could now never grow into some strong warrior like him, an alpha, or even a shrewd strategiser like their uncle, a beta.
Auguste simply told Laurent without reservations: "You can find your own path."
Not everyone was disposed to agree with that, of course.
"Father's determined to marry me off as soon as possible," Laurent informed Auguste. He tugged demonstratively at the ridiculously bright brocaded silk Laurent's servants had bound him into that morning. Father had apparently insisted on it so that he could spend most of the day parading Laurent before a plethora of prospective alphas.
"Even Mother tried to remind him that I've only just barely turned thirteen, but Father seems to think he'll be able to get a better deal before I fully present. I bet by the end of the month I'll be shipped off with some alpha Patran Lord four times my age. It'll probably be someone who's dull and stupid and deathly ugly, and who won't even let me just read my books in peace, but of course none of that will matter to Father."
Laurent tried to sound scornful and uncaring, like his Mother often did when she had to speak to courtiers Laurent knew she didn't like, but he had to admit he hadn't quite mastered the skill yet. Anyway, his affected air of indifference was hardly going to be very believable when he was on the verge of tears.
It was as if Laurent was suddenly just property to be signed away in payment to whichever political ally could offer the best trade routes and the most extra military support. He didn't understand it. He was a prince, only two steps away from being a king himself. Had everyone forgotten that overnight?
"No matter how determined Father is, I imagine he'll quickly find you're even more determined not to go along with his plans," Auguste teased.
The tears that had been brewing didn't ever manage to squeeze themselves free. Instead, for the first time on that arduous and humiliating day, Laurent's lips quirked upwards.
"I'll scare off any alpha," Laurent swore. "You watch. I'll make it so none of them will so much as try to look at me."
Auguste grinned. "I think that would be quite an accomplishment. You'll have to be very scary indeed to pull it off. Perhaps you'll even have to put down the books once in a while and learn to handle your sword better than any alpha if you really want to come across as more fearsome than handsome."
"Ha," Laurent replied. "Be careful what you wish for. Then I'd be able to beat you too."
"I will be very proud to see you grow up and surpass me," Auguste told him. Laurent's chest burned a little at how genuine the words sounded.
Never mind Father, or the court, or any of the alphas who were already starting to regard him as a hungry beast looked at meat. Auguste at least would always be on his side, omega or not. Auguste believed in him. And Laurent wasn't about to let Auguste down any time soon.