Chapter Text
Up and down, up and down, Lyney flicked his card as he waited for the kettle to sound, his ‘method’ of placating Wriothesley when he decided to grace the man with his presence. Well, that, and needing to get away from the House while some new pups were going through their first rut. The first one was always short fortunately, but it was always best to avoid having too many people around newly presenting Alphas. And since he helped with the last group, Lynette offered to take charge this time. Such was just one of many struggles when it came to being orphans and having a second gender; at least they managed to bring these pups to the House before the presentations and provide them plenty of resources. He’s heard one too many horror stories of people presenting in less optimal conditions, and near disasters like his and Lynette’s own experience.
Thank the Archons they were both Alphas in the end. Even so, if only they’d been born in another nation than Fontaine.
Shaking his head, there was no point in considering ‘if only’ when their lives now were perfectly serviceable. They had a home, they had a family, they had each other with a few close calls; and rumors did say Lyney had Wriothesley, but he’d still scoff and ask why would he want the old man. Okay, fine, not that old, but the stress didn’t help him look younger. Unfairly, it made the man what he was, which was broad-shouldered and sharp chin with short and wild salt-and-peppered hair; and as un-Alpha as it could be to admire another… Lyney thinks any Alpha would be jealous of the Duke. The muscles, the scars, the intimidating cut - some people just get all the luck in the physical department. Of course, in the Duke’s case, Lyney knew what had been the trade-off for much of the appearance so he didn’t fully envy the man; honestly, he could still infuriate Lyney, but that was just part of why he came back. People don’t get to get under Lyney’s skin and leave it at that. No, he has to get them back somehow.
Even if it did mean they were well-acquainted at this point. Hah, if Wriothesley saw him as a friend, that would be more amusing. Lyney had to hold out long enough, until he could find out what made the man tick in his own domain - that didn’t come at the expense of others - that would truly mean he claimed victory.
The kettle whistled, and right on time.
Scalding water flowed into the tea pot and through the infuser sitting inside with its bounty of leaves waiting to brew, the final drops making their way out of the kettle as heavy boots echoed up the steps. Lyney hummed, putting the lid on the pot just to coyly grin over his shoulder as the man of the hour appeared. Frost eyes were unsurprised to see him, but though they glinted in recognition, Wriothesley walked over to his chair, taking off his coat before settling into his seat.
… He didn’t say anything.
“... What? I go through the trouble of surprising you with tea and you can’t even greet me properly, Your Grace?” Lyney chided in his usual manner despite feeling something off. From having gotten to know the Duke of Meropide (properly) following a certain Prophecy’s passing, he could honestly say he’d never witnessed the other man this tired. There was a darkness to his expression, a weight dragging his shoulders back, and… Lyney pinched his nose, grimacing. “No, nevermind that, you reek! What did you come back from, a mating orgy?”
“Hello to you too, Mr. Lyney,” Wriothesley finally spoke, lazily waving a hand. “If I’d known you would be coming by, I would’ve ordered some extra snacks to share. Too bad; all I had from supplies this week are scheduled to be handed out.”
“‘Handed out’, hm? Have a few cycles occurring in the prison? I would think the Master of the Fortress would be better prepared for them and company.”
“Not when everyone’s cycle decides to occur the same week in some weird sync-up.”
Lyney frowned. And he thought presenting wasn’t bad enough, but cycles syncing? Within the Fortress no less.
“I’d been wondering since the Flood,” Wriothesley went on. “Several inmates were expecting their cycles within days of it happening so when that didn’t occur, I spoke to Neuvillette and Sigewinne about it. We concluded it might be that everyone's bodies had to ‘reset’ and their cycles would resume again in a few months. We didn’t consider them happening all in one week. If you hadn’t come in your usual ‘entrance’, you would’ve realized.”
“Ugh, and I’m regretting it.”
It smelled like Wriothesley had been soaking himself in nothing but heat and rut pheromones, all which blended into a horribly salty, sweet, sweaty, and stale combination that made Lyney want to hurl. If he hadn’t been used to the briny metallic tea leaves stench that normally hung on Wriothesley to focus on, the offensive odor would definitely make him ill.
“I’m withholding your tea until you bathe. Go, shoo! Away with you!”
“What? Awe, come on…! I just need a few minutes to relax.”
“I know you’ve gone scent-blind, but your guest hasn’t. Unless you want to be a terrible host… Besides, it isn’t healthy for you to be drowning in so many pheromones.”
The way Wriothesley’s brows furrowed was a curious note to Lyney, but he crossed his arms and fixed the older man with a look he often reserved for uncooperative pups, enough to show he was serious about withholding the much coveted tea. For a moment, it was a standoff between them, but the Warden’s exhaustion was the ally in Lyney claiming victory; and the older man sighed, placing both hands on his chair’s armrests to push himself back to his feet. He made no move to approach the teapot, but Lyney watched his retreating back until he heard a door close. Pipes soon rumbled as water began to run inside the private bathroom, and he chuckled, picking up the teapot to pour what should be their perfectly brewed tea. Good thing he picked this one from Wriothesley’s 'secret' collection; going through what he likely had today, he needed it. A thought that, oddly enough, made him feel pleased, but that previous unease wasn’t settled entirely yet.
It wasn’t gone either when Wriothesley did finally return, skin somewhat reddened from scrubbing and still toweling his hair dry. And hey, he put on some different clothes and left his coat behind to wash meaning he smelled…
… he smelled…?
… Lyney’s nose twitched again, brows furrowed in confusion. Rolling his eyes, he didn’t hesitate to approach and grab Wriothesley’s wrist, applying gentle pressure to his scent gland and ignoring the way the man had flinched. “How hard did you scrub? Don’t you know clearing away your own scent could make you sick?”
“It…?” But there was a sigh. “Okay, I might’ve scrubbed a little more than usual, but I had to make sure it was all gone.”
“ Sure . Just ‘a little more’. Must I inform your Head Nurse?”
Lyney didn’t even bother looking up, trying to get the scent gland to release that familiar brew of briny tea leaves and metal. Maybe he wasn’t rubbing hard enough? The arm in his hold tugged back, but the magician didn't let go. The skin above his gland was turning raw the more Lyney rubbed; he could feel the gland and even pinpricks of moisture being forced out, but his eyes only narrowed. A tight grip to keep Wriothesley from escaping, Lyney raised a dampened thumb to his nose and inhaled. Several times, he tried sniffing, but there was something strange: a whisper of smoke and sweetness? That couldn’t be right. Perhaps it was part of whatever soap Wriothesley used, but Lyney’s instincts perked. He then realized that the older man’s hand was somewhat slack in his grip and the ‘off’ feeling had become identifiable: distress. Or, that’s what Lyney’s Alpha was reacting to.
Lilac eyes lifting, he blinked, shocked to find Wriothesley’s face stoic, eyes focused on his arm in Lyney’s hold, but also unfocused. It almost scared Lyney from how swiftly the change came. Letting go didn’t garner a reaction either; Wriothesley stood quietly, arm still outstretched until he slowly drew it back to his other hand, thumb pressing - no, digging into his scent gland but avoiding his claws. Lyney hadn’t even noticed his claws had come out.
“... Is that all you wanted, Mr. Lyney?”
He did not like how flat and leveled Wriothesley spoke.
“Wha… What do you mean? If you don’t…” Lyney’s voice trailed as Wriothesley turned and retreated to his chair. That wasn’t outright dismissal, but on a normal day, Lyney would accept the hint. However, Alpha instincts kept him rooted, head somewhat lowered, but gathering the nearest teacup in order to bring it over to the stiff man. While waiting for Wriothesley to accept, he contemplated opening his mouth to explain the imperativeness of coating oneself in their own scent after bathing, but remained silent instead. On one hand, how would it help? On the other, it seemed like a common fact anyone who’d presented should know. It would be repetitive should Wriothesley know , but… but what? Looking at his face, Lyney frowned.
“... Wriothesley?”
“... What did you smell, Lyney?”
“Smell?” Raising his hand, having it hover a few centimeters from his face, how honest should he be? “... Well, nothing at first, but when I focused closely, there were the faintest hints of smoke and sweetness. An interesting choice when it comes to body wash, but your selection could have been worse... If you’re concerned that it will irritate any of your inmates, I doubt it will.”
A minute passed in silence…
… Another, then two, and it began to feel like Lyney shouldn’t have answered.
Wriothesley stared - didn’t glare or growl, didn't do anything. It bothered Lyney how that seemed to make the distress compound. The best he could begin countering with were soothing pheromones for the...- wait.
“Realized you sniffed out my secret, did you?” Wriothesley sighed, raising a hand to his neck. He didn’t cover his scent gland there; not exactly, but he was loosening the black wraps he wore instead. Lyney felt the color draining from his face. He might’ve wanted to get one over on the Duke, but with the way his instincts were going haywire, this was too far - and something so very wrong. Yet he was frozen as it came undone, voice caught while Wriothesley spoke.
“I presented after my sentencing here. Later than my siblings, my ‘parents’ had gotten impatient which led to everything…” ‘Everything’ being what information the Fatuus had managed to scrounge together regarding the Duke’s crime and sentencing. Lyney had found it curious they hadn’t uncovered his health records when it came to his second gender. He just… thought, in his position, that maybe the Duke regularly used scent blockers or suppressants. Lyney’s stomach flipped; he might be sick. “The Fortress wasn’t the place it was today either. People did what they wanted and Fontaine could care less. So, if a teenager presented as an Omega, and if the Administrator wanted to bond with them, no one blinked.”
Lilac eyes were wide as they focused on Wriothesley’s neck and the scar he hadn't seen before. It was more like a divot in his skin with roughly healed edges and keloids, and discolored like many of his other improperly healed wounds. Though a harrowing thing to stare at, the fact it was over his scent gland - if there was any left. But… there had to be if the rest of his glands could carrying his scent, but the whole internal network was significantly damaged. Any reasonable individual would find this revelation awful, but Lyney, this was witnessing his nightmare afflicted on… not even his worst enemy. No one should experience this.
But there was a rumble as Wriothesley began to laugh darkly.
“Isn’t that something you wanted to know? It’s what you’ve been coming back for.”
“What…?”
That was partially the truth, but Lyney felt his horror burn away to indignation. “No! This is beyond… I know you don’t hold high opinions of Fatuus, but I swear to you, your second gender is not something I would share or take advantage of! Anyone who does that has no morals, and would be a scoundrel for such things!”
He balled his hands tight, feeling himself grow further heated - less over what he was being implicated of, and more regarding what Wriothesley had said. The old Administrator of the Fortress had been gone for years, but the rumors of the Fortress then were well known. He was just seething, or maybe it was his Alpha enraged by the abuse but it could be both. He didn’t even realize he was pacing until another laugh - without the previous malice - made him jump.
“I know you wouldn’t, Lyney. You didn’t when you first came here, but you also knew better than to try using your Commands or pheromones down here from the others I kicked out,” Wriothesley said, smiling under his breath. “You wanted to uncover something embarrassing, but finding out one of the biggest secrets in Meropide was entirely accidental.”
“I… ugh, of course you already knew.”
“You’ve learned how to brew my favorite tea. Unless you have something else in mind?”
Lyney exhaled and fixed the Duke with a glare when he began laughing again. Nose twitching, now that the Alpha knew what Wriothesley’s scent was, he could better detect it even though it was faint; and it clicked that the smoke had been sweet. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms. “Wait, you’re in pre-heat. Why are you still working? Where’s your nest? Your snacks? Do you have a nestmate coming to–?”
“Woah, slow down.”
Lyney stopped. Wriothesley pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t have any of those things. Remember, besides Sigewinne, Clorinde, and Neuvillette, I’m not exactly flaunting my second gender to the public. I'll be fine.”
“Right…” He was getting ahead of himself, but there was a solution. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to help you. To make up for finding out and all.”
“... What?”
“Not like that , goodness. Let me court you first~” Lyney teased, grinning wider upon seeing Wriothesley’s bewildered expression. “Since you’ve handled your duties as Fortress Administrator and left yourself without, I will have to bring you nesting material, food, and drinks. And I will not be taking no for an answer.”
“Wait, that’s not it–!”
But Lyney would not hear anymore. Wriothesley’s distress continued and that would be no mood to start a heat in. Truly, Lyney should be the one to undertake such a task - he couldn’t leave it to Sigewinne alone when she had the rest of the Fortress to aid. This may not be the grand sort of secret he wished to learn, but it was his responsibility as both himself and as a decent Alpha if Wriothesley wouldn’t take care of himself.
How bad could it be?