(Fictional a/b/o Elizabethan era-ish au)
Being an omega and the fifth in line for the title, the young lord of Chambriath was forced to believe that being wedded to the man of his father's choice and bearing his children was the only purpose of Har...
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Thundering winds howl past Louis as he rides Detyre with everything he and the beast has. He is just a mile away from Harry — he senses it in his deepest corner as the agonising distress of his omega creeps into him.
He did not spare a thought as he mounted Detyre and sped off the moment those horrid words rolled off Jaime's tongue, uncaring of anyone following behind or his safety in the depths of the unearthly woodland. He did not rest since then, unspoken apologies to his beloved stallion as he rode it towards his home.
And as he neared, Harry's unease started to run through him as well; a cruel shiver almost. He felt it on his skin and his insides, the pain and the distress, but above all, he felt the lack of Harry's presence of mind. He did not sense the omega at all, only suffering from what the omega was feeling physically — never once did he get a reaction from the omega himself.
And now, as the tall watchtowers of Yenshai Manor peek through the thick clouds of winter, soft snow increasingly falling, Louis' heart drums with apprehension. Fear crawls in like a ghoul, terrible scenarios in his head. He jumps off Detyre while the beast remains calm, almost as though he understands his master's agony. Louis' legs march forward, long strides with the heels of his boot clicking against the wood of the floor, Harry's faint scent reaching him.
It's a crowd outside his and Harry's chamber, servants and guards waiting outside with low murmurs, worry in their eyes. Silence lies over them when they realise Louis' presence, bowing their heads in respect and clearing out as Louis hands his sword to one of the chamber guards and enters his chamber. His heart pounds at an inhumane pace, sweat glistening on his palm even in the winter's chill. It is completely mum inside the chamber, Harry's faint scent hitting him before his eyes fall on their bed. And there he is, almost a ghost with his pale skin and drowning in quilts, looking smaller than Louis has ever seen him.
His eyes shift to Liam and he growls instinctively, walking towards his mate while Liam whimpers and submits, allowing Louis to take Liam's place beside Harry's head, the bed dipping when Louis sits while Harry remains unmoving. His curls form a halo, lips losing their colour and his bones defined. Louis stays silent for a while, running his hand through Harry's hair while flinching when his almost frozen skin touches Louis'. His mind is unable to process what's going on, a heaviness in his chest before reality crashes.
"Will you kindly explain to me what in the hell happened? Have you written for a physician yet?" He asks Liam, the beta standing near the other edge of the bed and shuddering slightly at Louis' harsh tone.
"I-I am afraid he, um, he d-dropped, your royal highness. He was quite stable after you left, but soon enough he was swaying and then he just, erm, landed on the ground. I swear on the heavens above I was keeping an eye on him, your royal highness," the beta bites his cheek, eyes heavy with remorse as they remain on the ground, never meeting Louis' sharp ones. "He asked me to b-bring him a c-cup of tea and when I returned, I-I found him motionless," Louis draws in a sharp breath as the words escape Liam's mouth, an unusual wave of something he can't name washing inside him while he looks at his mate, so frail he looks.
