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You: Prince John of the Second Kingdom, had never expected to be arranged into a marriage. He was a son, a prince, granted the second child, and not the future king, but he had expected to spend his life as a commander in the army. But then his father informed him that he had accepted on behalf of John the hand of the future king of the First Kingdom, who John had never met before. John had protested, but his father pointed out that he was an Omega, and it was his duty to make a great alliance with an Alpha prince or princess. "You should be honoured the great Holmes family has picked you," he had said, and John couldn't fight his father's wishes-- he was King after all. So that was how he had ended up shipped off to a faraway kingdom, away from everything he had ever known or loved, dressed in wedding clothes, and became the prince consort to the future king, ready for a future of bearing his children and being by his side. He had barely even seen Prince Sherlock after the ceremony; he was constantly surrounded by court members who wanted to meet their new prince. And now he was in the most ornate bedroom he had ever been in, waiting for Sherlock to join him. Nerves were clawing at John's stomach as he looked down at his all white ensemble. None of this felt right. He had dreamed of fighting in the army, but now it would never be realized, all his training for naught. It was all too late now, for the doorknob was turning and John was about to be alone in a room with his new husband for the first time.
Stranger: ((reading :) ))
Stranger: It had all been ridiculous. Unbearable. Mycroft wasn't supposed to turn down the throne, for Christ's sake. All Sherlock could remember about their shared childhood was when Myc told him to "bow down for his future King", and now he was chickening out? All of this for obscure reasons, barely explained to Sherlock himself, involving the secret services, trying to avoid a war. And now /he/ was the one that was supposed to rule the First Kingdom, get married, breed. Sherlock had always just wanted a private life of his own, to flee the palace, to go on his own way, and now he was tied down. He'd seen his husband at the ceremony, Prince John. The man had looked so miserable. Sherlock knew perfectly that their union would be a disaster.
When he entered their room that evening, he felt uncomfortable to a nerve-wrecking point. He didn't share his space with anyone. He didn't want to breed with the first omega he'd met. He wouldn't let loose to his animal instincts. Instead, he nodded respectfully towards John and greeted him: "Good evening, my Prince." He went to get out of his jacket, put his sword away. "I'll go to the adjacent bedroom. Make yourself comfortable. If you'd like, I can ask for your quarters to be ready by tomorrow."
You: John managed a small smile and nod back. "Good evening." He muttered as he stood from the bed and then looked at the man. Sherlock was extremely attractive, he'd heard people talking about him back home and how good looking he was, he was even more so in person though. He licked his lips and then sighed a little. So, it appeared that the other wanted little to do with him. That was only making him feel even worse about the whole situation. Being dragged away from everything he knew, his family and friends, it was just horrible. He felt so.. sad when he deeply thought about it. Now, it felt even more so because he was just going to be alone. "Uh.. what am I supposed to do about my heat?" He asked softly then. "I was ordered to stop talking my suppressants about a week ago. Which means my heat.. is due really soon. And I haven't had one for a very long time." He spoke, leaning against the pillar of the bed, feeling horrible nervous.
Stranger: Sherlock turned to look at the prince again. He was moving, in a strange sort of way. So lost, seeming so keen to do go, to behave how he had be told to. Sherlock felt sorry for him, a strike of empathy rising. "I can get you suppressants," he answered. "If I ask for them now, I'll get them by tomorrow morning. No one will know. And... About... Having an heir, we can wait. Find another way." Sherlock had just started to think about this, he didn't know what was the best solution yet. Maybe they would adopt. Maybe he'd say he was sterile, to save John's honor. If they couldn't fall in love, which he knew was likely -Sherlock had never fallen in love in his whole life-, they would maybe be friends. But he wouldn't force the man into an unwanted sexual relationship. "We've both been put in an undesired situation. I don't want to make it worse. Who knows? Maybe my brother will come and claim the throne again. If he does, I'll give it to him without any regret." He chuckled a little at that, knowing that no one in his position would want to give up his power. But this wasn't the life he wanted, he was sure about that.
Stranger: *so keen to do good
You: John gave a small nod then. "Okay. Yeah, we can do that." He said and then smiled again. He didn't really know what he wanted anymore but he kind of expected the other to care about him, to want to be with him. He already hated it here. He had held onto the chance that Sherlock would be caring and would actually want him, it was apparent that this was going to be completely different than what he imagined. "I don't really know what could make it worse." He lied and then moved to sit back on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around himself a little bit. "Maybe he will. Then I could go home." He added, he didn't laugh though or even smile. He was starting to feel a little angry at his father for sending him here, he had no choice in this and he was now just stuck here. He closed his eyes and tried not to think too much about this all, he couldn't get upset in front of the other.
Stranger: Sherlock didn't know what to do. He'd never had friends to be caring with, he'd never felt this alpha-thing of protectiveness. But now that John seemed upset, he didn't want to leave. So, after a little hesitation where he didn't even know where to look, he sat next to John, leaving a bit of space between them, and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's going to be okay," he promised. "If you want, I can organize a trip for you, next weekend. You can go back to your homeland. I'll even travel with you... Although, if you want to stay there for a while, I'll probably have to come back here to fulfill my royal duties but... Anyway. I don't want to be caged, and neither should you be. We'll make the best out of this situation. Alright?" Maybe they didn't know each other, but John was his spouse. He had to take care of him, make sure he was as happy as could be. The prince surely deserved it. Sherlock gave him a little, reassuring smile, hoping it would make him feel a bit better. "I won't force you to love me," he said. "I'm not even going to ask you to act like we were a couple. But I'd be really glad if we can be friends."
You: John looked at Sherlock when he came to sit beside him, a little shocked that he had, given his earlier resistance to even being in the same room as him. He was also surprised when he spoke and he nodded a little, managing an honest smile. "That would be really great. Thank you, for thinking about me and what I want. This whole thing is honestly just terrifying and I barely know how to deal with it." He commented and then frowned a bit. "I didn't think that I would ever end up in this situation. No one ever prepared me for it." He added then and sighed as he wrapped his arms around himself. God, he'd never felt so horribly alone in his life. "Yeah. I'd like that too." He added. "I think I need a friend here. I have no one but you." John looked at him then and gave a soft smile before he reached up and placed his hand on Sherlock's, giving it a small squeeze.
Stranger: Sherlock couldn't help it: he pulled his hand away when John touched him. Truth be told, he was a complete virgin. Disgusted by his alpha instincts, repulsed by the idea of giving in to them. When John touched him, it felt like a burn, but he gave the man an apologetic smile, murmured a "Sorry" so he'd understand this wasn't his fault. Tying his hands together nervously, he finally stood up. "You trained to be in the military, right?" Sherlock asked, since he had deduced it at the ceremony. "Maybe you'll get along with our general Lestrade. He comes around here a lot. That is, if you don't want more friends... Also, the personnel is quite nice, and... And my mother, a charming lady. I would have liked for you to meet my father, I'm sure you two would have gotten along, but... Well." There was a reason Sherlock had had to take the throne so urgently. He still had trouble with the grieving process he was going through. This had all happened very fast. His father had just been buried two weeks ago. "Anyway. I'll leave you now. I'll ask the servants to go fetch you suppressants first thing in the morning." He walked backwards, nodded politely, moving to go to the other room.
Stranger: *if you want more friends
You: John frowned a little when Sherlock pulled away but gave a nod when he apologised, not that he was quite sure why he even pulled away. He didn't press against the issue though and he just listened to what he said. "Yes. I had." He said, not really wanting to talk about that. "That sounds good, I think the more friends I have.. It will probably make me feel more integrated. Your mother is lovely too, she came and spoke to me at the ceremony." He spoke and then frowned when the other spoke about his father. He had heard about it all but didn't really want to mention it. "I'm sorry, about your father. I'm sure he was a lovely man." He said softly and then gave a weak smile before he nodded. "Thank you. I'll see you at breakfast then, I guess." He spoke softly as he stood to, to go to his bags and get his pajamas. "Goodnight, Sherlock."
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