Archive of Our Own

“What’s a consummation?”

Startled, Auguste looked up from his work, the endless papers scattered in piles on the table before him.

Laurent stood at the other end of the table, reading from one of the pages. It was a drafted schedule for Auguste’s wedding celebration, one of the countless items he had worked on with the council to prepare for the days ahead.

“It’s part of the wedding ceremony,” Auguste said, trying to keep the response light and easy, hoping Laurent didn’t pry further. He continued his letter writing, his pen scratching across the page.

Laurent didn’t let him off easy. “I’m not invited to it.” It was not a question.

Auguste paused his writing mid-sentence. His brother was young still, sweetly innocent. Auguste would not initiate a conversation he was not ready for. “It's for the adult guests only.”

Laurent’s brow furrowed. Auguste could sense an internal debate being endured— there was something else.

“Is that because there will be fucking?” asked Laurent.

"What?" Auguste nearly dropped his pen. “Where did you hear that?”

Laurent stood straighter, flush rising in his cheeks. “The councilors told me.”

Auguste raised his eyebrows.

Laurent quickly caved: “I overheard them talking about it," he said, which meant that he had been sitting outside of the council room door for the entire meeting. Again.

"Laurent--" Auguste sighed, pressing the pads of his fingertips to his eyes. It wasn't the first time Laurent had overheard something he was not supposed to hear, especially during meetings of state. The council members tended to use colorful vocabulary amongst each other, resulting in occasional slips that were overheard by his brother's innocent ears. With Auguste's impending wedding, the topics of conversation at this week's council meeting had strayed into the business of the marriage bed. He should have expected Laurent to overhear, should have prepared something to say.

"It's not--" Auguste started, but he stopped and tried again. “‘Fucking' isn't a polite term to use.” It came out sterner than he intended.

The tips of Laurent's ears flushed pink, the color slowly spreading across his cheeks. "Sorry," he said, dipping his chin.

Auguste sighed, softening. "Do you know what it means?"

Laurent's flush deepened, as it always did when he was asked something he did not know. It did not happen often.

Auguste surveyed his little brother across the far end of the table, really seeing him, as was so easy to overlook in everyday life. Laurent was almost a young man now.  He was sharp, inquisitive. He studied whatever texts and maps and treaties he could get his hands on. But, like all scholars, he was limited to the contents of the library in which he dwelled, in this case, the royal library in Arles. Someone needed to tell him about the ways of the world, the things that he could not research in books. Both of their parents were gone now, and with startling realization, he recognized that the responsibility fell to him.

Auguste pushed out the chair adjacent to him, where his most trusted advisor would sit if this was a council meeting.

Laurent had joined him at this table countless times before, the act comfortable to them both, but today he approached tentatively, his posture rigid. He sat.

Auguste peered at Laurent’s downcast face. Was he—shy? Perhaps he had already been too harsh. Pity welled within him, deep in his stomach. “You're not in trouble," Auguste said.

Laurent sat very still, avoiding his gaze. They sat for a moment in tense silence.

Finally, Auguste said, "Tell me what you’ve heard.” He knew Laurent would be honest with him. Even if his cheeks colored and he stumbled to find the words, he would tell the truth.

“They said you would…” Laurent paused. “That the marriage,” he continued, “would be consummated after the ceremony. And that the council would witness it.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Auguste said.

Laurent held his gaze. “I looked up consummation in the dictionary.”  His expression changed, his brow furrowing. "It doesn't-- I don't get it."

Auguste pursed his lips; his tongue felt like sand in his mouth. “Have you read about sex before?”

Laurent gave the slightest shake of his head. His cheeks darkened further.

“It’s hard to… It isn’t…” Auguste felt the heat start to spread across his own face. He might actually catch fire any second now.

Laurent sat very still and straight on the edge of his chair. He waited.

Auguste rubbed his weary forehead. It was during moments like these that he missed their parents the most. “I wasn’t expecting to have this conversation with you tonight,” he admitted, releasing a half-formed laugh.

Laurent didn't waver.

Auguste felt sweat beginning to prickle the back of his neck. He hoped no one was around to hear this, for both his and Laurent’s sake. “When two people love each other very much,” he started, but that made him cringe. He cleared his throat. “When people,” he started again, “wish to be physically intimate, and it’s what they both want, they can choose to have sex. Erm, with each other,” he finished awkwardly. He actually wanted to catch fire now.

Laurent was still looking at him inquisitively.

“Those people can use their genitals, and, uh, put them together,” Auguste swallowed thickly. He could tell Laurent was trying to compose a neutral expression, trying and failing to hide his disgust. “During a consummation, that’s what the council needs to witness.” Auguste scratched at his sweat-dampened temple.

“Do you really have to?” Laurent asked.

“In front of the council?” Auguste asked. Consummations were voyeuristic in nature, yes, but it was tradition. He didn’t think about it too much.

“No,” said Laurent quickly, shaking his head. “Do you have to do.. uh.. it.”

Auguste examined his brother’s face carefully. “You mean if I have to have sex?”

Laurent paused, but slowly he nodded, his eyes round and blue. 

Auguste knew his brother was a very green innocent, as he had intentionally kept him so, especially after their parents were gone. The burden of raising Laurent himself was a heavy weight to bear, but it was one he bore with great sincerity. As far as he knew, Laurent was still unaware of the functional purpose of pets, what happened at late-night arena shows, and the business of the brothels in town. Even now, the young man sitting before him may not understand the full implications of what he was asking, but Auguste wouldn’t lie to him.

“Yes,” he said, carefully. "I do."

Laurent’s face scrunched in his distaste. “But do you want to have sex?”

“Well, um, yes,” Auguste replied, stumbling, unable to contain his blush. “But that’s okay. I want to have sex with her, as she does with me.”

Now Laurent just looked alarmed.

Auguste’s mind reeled as he tried to explain this in a way that made sense to a naïve mind. “It’s, uh, generally thought of as a pleasant thing to do.”

“Oh,” said Laurent. This was news to him. His brow was still furrowed, his eyes cast to the table in thought.

Auguste softened, wishing he had prepared for this moment. His own feelings of inadequacy as a stand-in parent loomed over his head. “A lot of people have sex regularly. It’s normal. And fun, even. For a wedding, the council observes the first time to make sure the marriage is properly consummated.”

“Why?”

“It validates the union. And in this case, to make sure the heirs are the king’s.” Auguste had carefully avoided an extra-marital pregnancy for years, which was especially forbidden for the Crown Prince of Vere. He had not yet adjusted to the idea of pregnancy being desirable. It was strange for him to think about, even now, days away from the wedding.

Laurent’s expression opened up at the mention of heirs, as if he hadn’t connected babies with sex until just now. More questions formed. Auguste prepared himself.

“You're going to make an heir in front of the council?” he asked.

“Perhaps,” said Auguste.  “I'd like to, but it may take a while."

"How, exactly? Why does it take a long time? Could it take all night?"

Auguste wondered if he looked as sweaty as he felt. "No, I mean..." he waited for the words to come. They didn't.

Laurent waited patiently.

Auguste cleared his throat. “When a penis is put in a vagina during sex, and at the end there’s…” he didn’t finish that sentence. Too much for today, perhaps. Thankfully, Laurent didn’t ask, so he didn’t elaborate. “Sometimes, a few weeks later, a pregnancy will take, and eventually a baby is born.”

"Sometimes," Laurent echoed.

“The right, uh, parts have to be present during sex for a pregnancy to happen. And even then, it doesn't always happen right away. Sometimes you have to have sex many times over many months to conceive a baby. You took years for Mom and Dad—” he stopped abruptly.

Perhaps this was too far. 

But Laurent perked up at the mention of their parents. “Mom and Dad?”

Auguste remembered his mother, the pregnancies, the life that drained from her with each passing loss. The joy when, finally, a second son was born. He remembered, even though he was only a boy at the time. Carefully, he said: “You were very wanted.”

Laurent seemed somewhat satisfied with this answer. He mulled it over, deep in thought. Auguste saw another question coming before Laurent spoke.

“What if,” Laurent started to ask, but he lost his confidence halfway through, and went silent again.

“Go on.”

Laurent spoke slowly, each word carefully selected. “What if the sex doesn't have the right parts for pregnancy? What if two men...?”

Auguste felt a knot in his chest. They had danced around the conversation of Laurent’s tastes for months, but it never quite came about. He wanted Laurent to realize for himself what he wanted, and to trust him with the information, knowing either of those could take a long time to come about. They had come close to speaking of it only once, when Auguste caught Laurent lingering around the soldiers’ training arena, nervously saying he was there to study, the book in front of him unopened. At the time, Auguste hadn’t pried.

“That’s okay too, although there would be no heirs. But many people prefer to have sex that way.”

Laurent thought about this.

“Does everyone have a consummation when they get married?” Laurent asked.

“It's traditional in noble families,” said Auguste.

"Will I?"

“Only if you want one. You get the final say.”

Laurent pressed a crumb into the table with his index finger. It crackled against the wood. “I think I’d like to marry a man, one day.”

Auguste's heart bloomed with warmth, bursting outwards with brotherly affection, watching his brother grow up. It sparked the flame of protectiveness within him, the same that had been burning ever since Laurent was left within his care. He would do anything for his little brother, to make sure he got the life that he wanted, to provide for him in all the ways their parents would now never be able to.

“Then you shall,” Auguste said, more of a promise than anything else.

Laurent smiled at him like he was his entire world. The tips of his ears were still pink, but his shoulders began to relax. “I’m glad I don’t have to go to your consummation.”

Auguste laughed, genuinely. “I’m glad you don’t either.” The pressure eased a bit from his broad shoulders.

Auguste felt like Laurent was growing up too fast, that they were running out of time. His baby brother wasn’t a baby anymore. “One day, when you’re ready, you can decide to have sex with someone, if you’d like.”

Laurent scrunched his nose, a half-hearted expression that Auguste saw right through. The day would come, was coming, when someone would catch Laurent’s eye. No matter how long it took, Auguste would never be ready for it. He felt a knot rise in his throat, and with it the impulse to beg Laurent to stay little forever.

Instead, he said: “You should love him, whoever he is. I have no doubt you will choose someone worthy of you.”

Laurent nodded sincerely. “I will.” And he would, for no other reason than to honor his brother’s advice.

Auguste knew his words would not be wasted. He paused for a moment, allowing Laurent to ask additional questions if he had them, but none came. Auguste sat forward in his chair again, picking up his pen.

“I have a few more letters to get through, if you want to stay,” he offered. He knew Laurent's favorite way to spend an evening was at his side, answering letters, trying to run their country, together.

Laurent nodded eagerly, sitting forward as well. He picked up the next letter in the stack, broke the seal, and began to read.