Chapter Text
For months, Castle Camelot was filled to bursting with knights and nobility alike. It was always busiest when knights came back from their winters, even more so with new knights picked up from tourneys and newly sworn knights unused to their freedoms from squirehood. Arthur’s court was alike with many knights with lengthy or impressive titles, princes and fellow kings-turned-vassals adorn the already lustrous crown of the Round Table.
With the sheer density of alphas at the table, Kay was surprised to see only a handful of squabbles break out among them over the years. Most were hardly more than sibling-like scuffles over the last dessert or rotations in the training field. He figured that between the size of the castle and her lands, the very small number of omegas to compete for (namely the King’s nephew, Gawain, though between his youth, haughty personality, and title, few were willing to brave the ire of their liegelord to make a pass), or their own mating bonds that had allowed them to grow more docile, stakes ran low for the king’s knights. The seneschal envied some of the bonded pairs, though not all–Melion, who’d been betrothed just before his swearing to Arthur upon his knighthood, had not made his return to the court afterwards. The older knight couldn’t recall when last he’d heard from the energetic knight.
His mind continued to wander, puzzling over the mild scuffles. If he was honest, he was only half listening to Arthur at best, disinterested in what sounded like a quest. Let the younger knights go and prove themselves, but let him be in his comfortable role. Once, maybe years ago, he’d have argued it should be him questing, but after being trounced by a few too many knights, he’d swallowed the lesson of humility dry.
The room grew thick with the various scents–floral, woody, musky–Kay had to sink back in his seat, covering his mouth and nose with a hand to try and dilute them all. Times like these made him hate being a hunter–blessed with a sense of smell far more keen than most, though it proved more a curse in the eager room. A sigh and a roll of his eyes drew in a new spiced scent, drawing his attention back to the actual matter of the meeting. His scan about the busy hall brought him to meeting the burning brown eyes of Arthur’s newest acquisition. He wracked his mind for a name but it alluded him more as he scrabbled for it. Those eyes turned sharply from his own and back to Arthur.
“For the last time, this is not a quest! I simply need a few issues checked nearby. If it becomes a quest, that is beyond my knowledge. Please–” As more voices drew up in interest, their king’s own youth let slip his temper. “SILENCE! I will pick whomever I deem qualified. Is that clear?” The snap of the blond alpha’s dominance caused his knights to settle once more into their seats as the room filled with the thick burning smell of amber. They shifted uneasily as Arthur took a deep breath, running a hand over his face as he tried to regain control of himself. Kay trusted his brother’s guidance well enough, but couldn’t hope to fight against the order that sealed his mouth and mind in its wake. After a long moment, the burning smell subsided but lingered just at the edges to keep the knights in order still. “Right then. Sir Marhault?” The Irish alpha perked up at his name, his gold eyes poised on Arthur. Another hunter who’d loyalty to Arthur came without question, even in the wake of his absent brother-in-law. Kay was impressed by his precision and skill, but knew little else about him. “I wish for you to lead this. As things are still slow, blessedly, I want you to take Sir Dinadan, Sir Balin, and Sir Kay with you. I’m not worried for a threat, but with Sir Balin’s recently joining us this far south and my brother needing fresh air from time to time, I figured they’d serve your company well.” Marhault offered a firm nod in response before taking his leave of the hall. Kay, on the other hand, opened his mouth to protest, but paused as he felt burning eyes on him again and a simmering scent that made his mouth run dry. He stock quickly and left without more furious, indignant words toward Wart. His temper couldn’t be helped, but he knew when to hold his ever-sharpened tongue in the face of an insult.
Balin couldn’t say he was pleased to be traveling so soon and with a pack of alphas. He was usually lucky to do such traveling with his twin brother. Balan’s boisterous moods and musky scent covered for Balin’s observations and bourbon scent. It paid to be a twin in that way, but now he’d be on his own. Not for the first time, of course, but in some time. He had fought off bigger as it wasn’t rare for alphas to make bold and brash demands of omegas in their company, though this warning of his own teeth had only endeared King Arthur to him upon the invitation to the order. He’d hoped for more time to settle in, find his bearings before being thrust out, not that he’d ever been particularly lucky. Balin supposed this wasn’t the worst possible task, just a few small check-ins around the nearby area. He’d have plenty of time to get back and settle before he’d need to fret over a nest. He pushed the thought from his mind as he tried to focus on packing. He’d not been sure about Cenhelm’s agreement with Arthru at first, worried that by some cruel joke his uncle had betrayed him. It would’ve been out of character, though Balin wasn’t nearly as politically savvy as his uncle anyway.
Balin recalled the nervous tension ebbing off his uncle when Balan presented as an alpha. While it wasn’t a surprise to those who knew him, Cenhelm knew his own beta nature wouldn’t always be able to keep him in line as a squire. He’d hoped Balin’s presentation might prove more like his own, figuring between them both Balan might not run amok. For months, though, Balin did his best to hide his own presentation, worried his uncle might be more old-fashioned than they expected about his being both a knight and an omega. Instead of being turned away, Cenhelm insisted that he could defend himself early. He’s used these skills before, he just hoped he’d not need to use them with these knights. Arthur likely wouldn’t take kindly to it.
Balin took his time to pack, not that he had much but he wanted to make sure he had what he needed for their task and a few less needed items, but packed just in case his heat came on sooner than expected. He wasn’t worried, but figured he should just be careful. As he approached the other knights gathered at the stables, part of him had felt foolish for overpreparing, though it melted away as he saw the supplies gathered by the other knights. Dinadan had the smallest pack, and even then it was still more than Balin’d ever had on good weeks.
“You’ve all got enough supply for a month in nowhere.” He commented as the stablehand brought out his horse, already tacked. He frowned as he realized he’d need to get used to luxuries like this.
“Cannot be too prepared when we are sleeping outside.” Dinadan’s sing-song response only lended more to his bardic leaning. Balin knew he was far from a shabby fighter, but it was tempered by his good nature and not wanting to be a knight. “You, my friend, have hardly packed anything.” Balin shrugged as he checked over his horse and her tack, not for mistrusting Arthur’s stablehands but rather not wanting to be caught off-guard and be wrong. Dinadan sighed, looking over his shoulder to the bulkier knights. “He’s at least more talkative than you both.” Marhault snorted at the jab, but Kay only shook his head. The omega couldn’t help his smile, seeing the reactions out of the extended corner of his eye. Either Dinadan could get through anyone’s shell, or these two knew him well enough. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for the moment, figuring he could afford the small peace.
The spring days still held the cool winds of winter, fending off the intense summer heat promised in days to come. Days were filled with Dinadan resounding stories and gossip alike that he’d gathered throughout the winter season. It would never cease to amaze Balin how he seemed to know everything about anyone. At first he couldn’t make sense of how the chipper bard had gotten his title–the Cynic–but late night talks on the road allowed more insight into the alpha’s less commonly held beliefs.
“I will never understand why we do it.” Balin perked his gaze from the flames of the campfire to meet the mis-shaded blue eyes of the bard.
“‘We’? We’re knights doin’ the King’s errands. I thought y’d know that one.” He responded, picking at the flames just at the edge of the larger one.
“No no,” the blond snickered and shook his head, “I should have been more specific. The whole matter of…” He flitted his fingers as he tried to find the words he wanted. “The performative courtship.” Balin raised an eyebrow, not sure he fully understood.
“How do y’mean? We’re performative pack creatures, yeah?” The alpha smiled and shook his head again, making the omega feel stupid for his answer. Dinadan offered a little sigh as he caught the sharpening of Balin’s scent with his frustration.
“We are as a species, but I mean more specifically the courtship in the Court. I see plenty of omegas married to alphas with less than noble intentions who suffered for it.” His soft expression grew serious. “They couldn’t have known, not with how sugary sweet some of those alphas can be when they want something.” Balin folded his arms as he considered it, considered his brother’s handling of any woman. He could hardly imagine what it looked like in private with the omegas he charmed.
“Some alphas don’t want more than a warm body, and those are bad enough.” He agreed after a moment. “Most omegas aren’t sure if they can fend off those demanding Voices.”
“It’s a shame. THey are no less deserving of those who would truly care for them.” Dinadan showed far more empathy than he had expected. It was odd though that the topic became this tonight. That simmering scent filled the air again as Balin focused on that damning “why” question without a word. Those mismatched eyes fell on him as he extended his own vision to ensure the other slumbering alphas were in his peripheral vision. They stirred at the sharpening scent but otherwise made no move to wake all the way up. The blond alpha squinted at him for a heartbeat as he took in the omega. “Those two sleep like logs and I consider myself a gentle man. I also am not looking for a mate at this time.”
“Why’re you talking about any of this?” Balin growled in reply, feeling no shame in the uncourteous act. That simmering scent drew to a boil, reminding the alpha of the holidays for a moment, tinged with the same fears and tension that came with. For a moment, a look of sympathy crossed his face.
“You are an omega, are you not?” He figured being frank would put Balin’s spinning mind to rest, even for a moment. “You come from a small, poor family in Northumberland. I do not want you to feel that you must fall for fickle affections of alphas who would use you. Beyond that? I only wanted to see if you saw similar things.” Nothing more than a mild warning and curiosity. The boiling scent eased to a simmer, letting their Hunters sink into a deeper sleep once more.
“You’re kind, I’m not stupid nor helpless as others. I assure you.”
“Of course not. You have wonderful eyes, though. I wish I could adjust for every scene.” He watched as Balin saw the conversation wiggle into a different, personal pressure. The aloof knight pulled back from him, lips drawn into a tight line. “That must explain your prowess in Grand Melees, surrounded by opponents.” Balin looked away, not sure what to say. The bard had truly no intended threat, but an over-familiar curiosity.
“Sure, kept me alive this long, makes other knights real fuckin’ wary.” The blond’s eyebrows raise at the curse, not having conversed much with the duel-wielding knight to know how much he might do so. “I do think there’re omegas who don’t know they're gettin’ used until they are bonded and stuck, right.”
“Does this dissuade you from any bonds of your own?” He asked, pressing further into matters that are beyond him. “I should be specific, I apologize. I meant broadly any bonds, not just mating bonds.” Balin shook his head, standing quickly. The scent evolved with the mingling emotions of the otherwise unreadable knight.
“You presume too much, Sir Dinadan. Good night.” Balin moved back to his own small tent, not wishing to be interrupted further. He knew he wasn’t sleeping tonight, but he wasn’t about to spend that time with the presumptuous knight. He couldn’t think on what Dinadan had asked, not thinking he was that standoffish with them. He spoke, broke bread, and trained with the others. He wasn’t unwilling to find companionship among them. He just didn’t care for most of their company.
As they were coming to their last leg of their journey, Balin started to wilt as the days grew longer under the warming sun. Dinadan observed him for the first little while, unsure at first what might be bothering him. At first, he wracked his mind for the climate around Lord Cenhelm’s castle, but the area was so small he wasn’t sure. As they set up camp just outside the last small village, Balin’s movements grew spacy and sluggish. Perhaps the weather had gotten to him finally? Dinadan shook the thoughts away and invited Balin to maintain camp for the next few days and relax. Balin tried to protest but Dinadan assured him that they’d be able to handle this and that they’d be back in the evenings. Upon their arrival back each evening, Balin seemed to have already hidden away in his tent. He tended the fire well enough, but tonight something was strange.
As Dinadan arrived ahead of the other two, he saw that the tents and saddlebags had been raided, with some of their belongings strewn about as though they’d been robbed. The bard picked around the camp, keeping his ears perked as he did. He didn’t want to get caught unawares if someone was still hanging around the area. Two pairs of heavy footsteps, soft snoring, flames crackling, otherwise there was nothing amiss. The steps paused as he continued to try and inventory the bags. He glanced over to his companions, trying to figure out what caught their attention. The pair had their noses in the air, lips slightly parted as they drew in more scents. He supposed their scenting might tell them more until his mind stopped puzzling for a moment. Cinnamon bloomed all over the camp–frantic, sweet, heavily spiced and heavy on the palette.
The bulkier alphas turn to look at Dinadan puzzled before they follow the paths of the chaos around camp. As they did this, the chaos melted into something cleaner, familiar. Whoever it was knew the camp and what they were looking for. Nothing of value but some clothes and Marhault’s bedroll turned up missing. The trail brought them to their friend’s tent. Dinadan let out a sharp hiss of air, giving the two men pause. The snoring stopped now, replaced with a low rumbling growl. He shook his head and motioned the two to step away. All at once he realized what was happening and their best odds of surviving with all their pieces intact, he ought to be the one to peek inside just to confirm. As he approached the canvas, the opening let the heady scent that confirmed his suspicions slip out freely. Dinadan felt his own mouth go dry as he tried to find words to check on all this, the growling pulling back deeper into the tent as Balin likely prepared for them to invade his nest. The bard glanced to the pair of knights, seeing how their darkened eyes fix on the tent but are otherwise playing nice.
“Balin? It’s just us out here. Are you doing alright?” Dinadan attempted, reaching slowly for the opening. “I just want to make sure that it was you who took some of our spare clothes. It is quite alright, I just…” As he spoke, it drew in more and more of the intoxicating spiced air, but he knew he had to hold himself together long enough to check that Balin was alright. Marhault stepped forward to reach for it, catching a fierce slap across his hand from the bard. “Do not. He will kill you if you do this.” He hissed in a low voice, seeing that the usually restrained prince was struggling against this. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sounds of the omega circling in his nest, gauge if he is settling or not.
“Open it only.” The lithe knight grumbled, the tone breathy as he struggled with words. Dinadan wasn’t surprised to figure that Balin went mute during his heat as he was already suffering his hypervigilance. Dinadan waved off the larger knights, who reluctantly obeyed as they hoped to see the beautiful prize hidden in the canvas. Marhault stayed closer, his attention poised on the entrance with his muscles taut. Kay slid off to try and reorganize the camp but his gaze kept getting lured back to the tent as he hoped for more. Dinadan understood them, feeling his body stirring to help, wanting to ease whatever the omega needed so that he might feel comfortable enough to have them, but he would not let that primal part of him rule while he tried to help his friend. The blond carefully pushed the fabric away, holding his breath against the immediate wave of simmering spiced scent. He heard the two behind him pause to peek around him but being only barely smart enough to not surge forward. He trusted that these two were more like excited dogs than actual threats, but his heart broke as Balin scrabbled back in his nest built up of the stolen clothes. Instincts told the poor knight that he wanted an alpha to be close, to help him and to give him pups to care for, but Balin had no interest in any of those things himself at this time. The lithe omega’s gaze focused on Dinadan even as he drew in more scent and widened his pupils to ensure he was safe to curl up in his nest again. Dinadan did not envy the overstimulated sense of smell that came with omegas in their heat. How much could he glean from just their excitable sources’ scents shifting and changing?
“Sir? Might I come in? I have no intent to invade your space, I just want to keep the other two out of trouble, as best as I can of course.” The blond asked carefully, keeping his eyes lowered to come off as non-threatening as possible. Balin shifted, looking past him before fighting with words.
“Yes.” The simple invitation was enough to bring him in, closing the fabric behind him but keeping to the edges of the nest. He felt the burning eyes and the boiling scent came with a sickening sweetness around him. Dinadan’s eyes brush over the nest, taking in how painstakingly the omega selected his items in his building this space. He saw Marhault’s bedroll joined Balin’s at the bottom of it, but the other items made up shallow walls, enough to enclose it. One of the shirts, nearer the head of the nest, was a shirt he didn’t recognize–the embroidery around the neck was simple, with clay-red thread and a meandering pattern. The alpha supposed that he might ask about that later. For now, he pursed his lips as he tried to find a way to check in without sounding intrusive, especially for how walled off Balin already was before all this.
“Do you feel alright? Secure and comfortable?” Tread gently. A small nod reassured him plenty. “I will make sure Kay’s started on something for dinner, but if you’d allow me, I can play go between.” His offer was sincere, sweet even, but Balin frowned a bit. His jaw set as he tried to force the words to articulate. This might be a long week for them, but Dinadan was set to ensure that their new companion was as comfortable as he could be.
“Why?”
“Why what? Play go between?” A nod allowed the bard to continue. “With how acute their senses are normally, I do not wish for them to make fools of themselves in your company. It is not because I do not think you can defend yourself, but rather from a place of… well for once maybe you should not have to.” He hadn’t expected the bloom of protectiveness that brimmed in his chest, but he wasn’t upset with it either. Balin moved carefully into his nest, his pupils drawing to sharp pin-pricks as he focused on the bard. Beautiful eyes indeed. Ever scrupulous, scouting eyes. He smiled a little and shifted to sit, relaxing a little as the thick rolling undertones of stress subsided. “As I told you before, I am not keen on taking a mate, and I do not wish to change that now.” He promised as Balin curled in on himself to get comfortable. The fever seemed to be taking its toll, but he would endure it well enough. Based on the behavior, Dinadan felt comfortable assuming that it wasn’t the first that this knight spent alone, and he was determined that this one would be the last.