(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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(Tw: blood...and don't read)
With the spell of his rut washing away, Louis does not seem as possessed as he was during the first three days, now allowing Harry to make use of the privy or, at least, part from him for more than ten minutes. Being in a rut, Louis is hugely different from the person he is in general; he is animalistic, uncaring of anything but of the desire that rushes through his veins. Harry knew what he was getting himself into — having helped him through his rut before — but now, as his limbs ache with the tiniest of movement and his throat begs for water, he questions his decision.
It is not until he has eaten a proper meal while moving towards the Duchess' chambers which he rarely uses, and has put on some clothes, that he realises he needs immediate medication. As the wetness trickles down his thighs, no matter the number of times he has used a cloth, Harry whimpers at the sight of blood soaking the fifth piece of cloth that he has used. Liam's by his side while the letter for the physician has been sent, Louis still resting and unaware of the situation in their shared chambers. Pain blooms throughout Harry's abdomen, almost as if each muscle in him is being torn into shreds. He cries into the pillow, shutting his eyes tight when the blood begins to seep into the mattress, the Ivory sheets staining crimson.
"Harry, Louis needs to know." Liam's warm hand brushes his forehead while the other twines his fingers with Harry's, his helpless eyes full of tears. "This is treason on my behalf. Do not make me commit a crime. I mustn't lie to my future king, Harry."
"He can't know, Liam. I beg you. I beg you as a crony of yours. Do not tell him. Swear on my life you won't tell him, Liam. Please." A cry rips out of Harry when the muscle of his hip pulls, the pain excruciating and maddening. He clutches Liam's fingers, reminding himself to breathe. "F-for my pup's sake. P-please."
The beta shakes his head, shutting his eyes to escape Harry's pleading gaze. "Don't do this to me."
"Liam, please."
"Why must I be a pawn for your games? Tell him, he deserves to know, Harry. He is your mate, it is his right to know that - that he is going to l-lose you." Liam's eyes are as soft as a babe's skin and as painful as it's crying, his skin is a shade of pale from the exhaustion and his eyes surrounded by a shadow of sleeplessness. Harry despises it. "You are wise enough. You need to make a decision."
"I can not risk having him hate our pup. I know he will. And, I do not even wish to think about him having me get rid of it. I apologise deeply, but I can't...." Harry trails off into deep breaths and tears, the pain blooming all over him. The only consolation of it all is the feeling of his pup moving, assuring him that the life he is sacrificing his own for is unharmed. "Li, c-can I get some milk of the poppy? I c-can't bear the pain anymore."
Liam's scurrying to get it in a heartbeat, Harry's entire body shivering at the loss of someone's presence. His heart palpates, eyes frantic as his sufferings only intensify. He attempts to blink away his tears, instead thinking of a future he won't be in, a future where Louis and their pup will be there for each other. That shatters his heart further, but he can't stop thinking of it. Perhaps, Louis will remarry, and their pup will have a mother. He thinks of the burden that he'll be leaving on Louis' shoulder — looking after a newborn without his mate by his side. He almost feels bad, but then again, it isn't like he can help his doom.
