imagine Targ!Reader on the Adventure with Egg and Dunk. Pt2
I think this is the first time I've written something so long, so I hope you like it. Please excuse any spelling mistakes that might seem confusing 🙏
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The days alongside Ser Duncan and Egg had become strangely delightful since your "escape." Everything was different from what you knew. The world outside the castle was noisy, hot, full of dust and voices. There were no cold stone corridors, no silences that lasted too long. There were roads, open skies, and sleepless nights.
"Pebble" was your new name. Egg thought of it too quickly when Dunk asked. A common little stone, easy to forget. Dunk found the name ridiculous, it was clear from the way he frowned, but he said nothing, he liked you enough to keep the comment to himself.
Whenever there were tournaments, the three of you were there. Mixed in with the crowd, watching knights either triumph or fall to the ground with the sharp clang of metal. Dunk watched the fights closely. Egg got excited and cheered.
But today wasn’t one of those tournaments that made you excited with Egg. No, today had been terrible, after your cousin, Aerion, practically killed the rival’s horse on purpose in front of everyone, causing a commotion that sent the crowd of commoners into chaos.
Dunk had pulled you two out of there, and now you were walking through the vendors’ stalls, the sound of chickens in the background. Egg was further ahead while you walked beside Duncan.
"Have you two met your father? " Dunk asked, trying to make conversation.
You hesitated for a moment. You had almost forgotten that you lied about Egg being your younger brother.
"Hm… no. I haven’t met him." you answered awkwardly, unsure what to invent.
"Well, I think I saw mine hanged. He had a pottery shop in the Flea Bottom, and I sold rats, cats, and pigeons for a copper." He continued. "The cook there always said my father was a thief. "
Hearing that, you felt a pang of pity for Dunk. You never imagined he had gone through that, and it was hard to picture. Trying to find the right words to say to him, you didn’t notice his gaze shifting to Plummer.
A hooded old woman appeared ahead, her wrinkled hand extended toward Dunk. She asked if he wanted her to read his future. He accepted without thinking much.
"You will have great success, richer than a Lannister." The woman’s words made Duncan not believe at all, he thanked her with little conviction.
"Now the boy and the girl." He indicated
She looked at Egg.
"You will be king. You will die in fire, and worms will feast on your ashes. And all those you know will rejoice at your death." The words made Egg’s face go cold.
"What? " the little boy muttered, confused, but the attention of the hooded woman was already on you.
"And you… will be happy, but you won’t last long. Women always end up suffering more from the consequences of men, and with you it will be no different. But it won’t be worms that feed on you when you die."
Before she could continue, Duncan let out a loud laugh, caring little for the announced "future." He thanked the woman, gave her a few coins, and dismissed her.
"Why would she say that ?" Egg asked, worried.
"Don’t pay attention to it. It must be one of those wandering fortune-tellers who say anything for a few coins." you answered, remembering Valarr saying there were many scams in the kingdom.
"Your sister is right. It’s nonsense." Dunk reinforced.
Egg didn’t look convinced, but he returned to walk beside you, holding your hand.
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The puppet theater was full. Egg and you sat at the front to see Tanselle’s performance better. Everything seemed incredible, from the fire coming out of the fake dragon to her acting, which always made it natural to watch.
So focused on the play, with Tanselle finally defeating the dragon, you barely noticed Aerion’s arrival and the sudden silence. Egg had to alert you, lightly tugging at the sleeve of your dress.
But it was already too late. Chaos erupted. People ran, royal guards invaded, and destroyed everything under orders from Prince Targaryen. Aerion was hitting the Dornish puppeteer, breaking her fingers one by one, without remorse.
Egg ran quickly to the tent where Ser Duncan was to warn him of what was happening. You were already outside the theater after a royal guard dragged you out, shouting. Cries echoed from all sides, from Tanselle and other people.
Seeing the torture of the Dornish woman, Duncan didn’t think twice before charging at Aerion. The punch was strong enough to knock out one of the prince’s teeth. Even with three royal guards trying to restrain him, Dunk managed to deliver one last kick.
Outside the theater, you watched, breathless, not knowing what to do, placing Egg behind you, away from the fight.
Aerion stood up, spitting blood on the ground, and turned his attention to Dunk. "Why waste your life for this whore? She’s hardly worth the effort. She is a traitor… the dragon must never lose." Then added, with disdain, "Don’t you have anything to say? "
Egg hoped Dunk would respond, but he remained silent, only staring at Aerion with hatred.
"You knocked out one of my teeth. Let’s start breaking all of yours." Aerion’s cold order was immediately followed. The guards dragged Dunk onto the stage, forcing him to kneel and clamp his mouth against the edge of the wood.
At that moment, you stepped away from Egg and into the theater.
"No! Don’t hurt him!" You shouted, no longer caring if you were recognized. Egg did the same, standing by your side.
"You idiots, shut your mouths or you’ll get hurt too! " Dunk yelled, still held by the guards.
Aerion was already standing when he looked at Egg and then at you, recognizing you immediately.
"No, they won’t. If they do, they will answer to my father. Release him now. Wate, Yorkel, do as I commanded."
The guards obeyed Egg’s commands, now revealed as Prince Aegon and Princess [name].
Aerion, still bleeding from the mouth, approached you.
"You reckless brat… and you, playing commoner with these two idiots as if it were a game. Baelor is almost bald from looking for you, you know?" The disgust in his voice was evident. "And what happened to your hair?"
"We cut it, brother. I didn’t want to look like you." Egg’s reply silenced Aerion, who stared at him. Behind them, Dunk observed everything in shock, beginning to put the pieces together.
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The cell walls were stone covered in moss, stuffy, with a few torches on the sides to illuminate the space. At the back, there was a small window. Duncan could see the rain falling through it while he stroked a rat with his finger.
The sound of the cell door opening made him turn his head. He saw Egg and you enter right behind, looking different now, dressed in royal clothing.
Egg wore black and red, the colors of House Targaryen. You wore a velvet purple dress, rich in detail, very different from the old dress you wore when he first met you.
"Leave the food and go." Egg ordered the servant holding a wooden tray with simple food.
Once the guards left and the door was closed, leaving the three of you alone in the cell, Ser Duncan sat on the floor and began eating.
"My father said I have to apologize for deceiving him." it was your turn to speak, though your voice was a bit hoarse and broken. After returning to the castle, your father had given you a scolding that made you cry all night.
"Your father?" Dunk asked, mouth full.
"Prince Baelor." Egg answered for you.
"The heir to the Iron Throne." commented Dunk sarcastically, still clearly irritated by the lies.
Silence settled. The atmosphere was no longer pleasant.
"I never wanted to lie—"
"Yes, but you did." Dunk cut, his voice low but firm. "Both of you. About everything, starting with your names."
He looked at you, pressed against the wall, head down. "I’ve never heard of a Prince Egg, or a princess named ‘plebbe,’ for the love of the gods."
"It’s short for Aegon… and plebbe was Egg’s idea." you explained. You would have smiled if the situation were different.
Egg settled in the corner, closer to Dunk, back against the wall, hands restless over his knees, mimicking his gesture.
"Why did you do it ?" Dunk insisted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Was it a joke? Did you decide to make the wandering knight an idiot ?"
"No." you began, taking a deep breath. "Egg was supposed to be Daeron’s squire, and I had to accompany them to watch the tournament—"
Before you could continue, Egg hurried to speak, clearly trying to win Dunk’s forgiveness at all costs.
"He’s a shit knight and a drunk. He didn’t even want to enter the lists. He just wanted us to stay hidden in that inn until the tournament was over."
"You shaved your head."
"It was Daeron… well, he shaved mine completely. As for [Name]’s hair, it was just the white strands." Egg looked away.
"[Name]? That’s your real name? Truly worthy of a Targaryen princess." Dunk murmured, tilting his head with a half-smile of irony and disbelief.
You bit your lip, looking away, feeling the weight of his words hang in the cell air. The cell door opened again; a guard entered and told you that Prince Baelor wanted you to return to his solar.
You immediately stood up, smoothing your dress. "I have to go now. My father is still furious, especially after my cousin Daeron’s accusation."
You kissed Egg lightly on the forehead and said goodbye to Dunk before following the guard, leaving Egg sitting in the cell
"Accusation? What accusation did your brother make?" Dunk asked.
Egg hesitated, visibly uncomfortable.
"He told my father and my uncle that Duncan kidnapped me… and maybe [name] too, to sell her to a brothel or something…"
Dunk went pale upon hearing that. He felt like he was in the pit.
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Baelor’s solar wasn’t particularly large, yet far from small. Duncan sat opposite the prince; Egg had been dismissed a little earlier, and you were also absent, likely confined under some form of punishment.
"My brother Maekar returned to the castle a few hours ago. He found his son Daeron drunk in an inn, a day’s journey south." Baelor turned slowly to stare at the knight, his eyes cold and sharp.
"I know that." Duncan replied, maintaining a firm posture.
"He told my brother that a monstrous outlaw knight made off with Egg and my precious daughter. I fear you have been cast as that thief, Ser." The Targaryen crossed his arms, lips pressed thin, fixing Dunk with an assessing look.
"He’s lying. I left that inn four nights ago. Prince Daeron did not give chase to any kidnapper." Duncan countered, firm but restrained.
Baelor remained silent for a few moments, walking to a nearby table to fill a wine cup, his steps echoing through the room.
"Ser Duncan… I must be absolutely certain you did not take liberties with my daughter. She defends you fiercely, but I worry. She is young, impressionable, and easily led astray." Baelor leaned over the table, his eyes piercing into Dunk’s soul.
Duncan took a deep breath, resting his hands on his knees. His gaze never wavered from the prince, steady and attentive, though his body thrummed with contained tension.
"Your Grace, I swear on my honor as a knight. I did not touch her, nor did I attempt anything untoward. They followed me for days of their own volition. There was no kidnapping, nor any impure intent." Dunk spoke slowly, weighing every word, feeling the crushing gravity of the prince's scrutiny.
Baelor lifted the cup, watching the red liquid catch the light before setting it back down with a dull thud.
"Do you truly have the gall to say that after disappearing with them?" The prince’s voice rose, though it remained controlled, each syllable laced with danger. "When my nephew and my daughter could have fallen prey to any manner of disaster ?"
Duncan remained silent, his chest tight, feeling the full weight of royal judgment. Every word from Baelor was a reminder of the power he held.
"Furthermore, Aerion demands your head for what you did to him."
Dunk closed his eyes and exhaled heavily at those words, the air in the room growing thick and stifling.
"He will not be appeased, and I cannot deny him a trial. With Daeron’s accusation that you abducted Egg and [Name], the court will hardly find in your favor."
"And when I am found guilty?"
"The last time a man struck those of the royal blood, it was decreed he should lose the offending hand. And you… you kicked him too, did you not ?" Baelor tilted his head, calculating.
Dunk looked him in the eye and nodded, his voice a low rasp: "I did."
Baelor stepped forward, closing the distance. "You have a choice. Whether it is a better or worse one, I cannot say. And so I ask you, Ser Duncan the Tall… how good a knight are you, truly?"
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After that terrible trial, Duncan found himself drenched by the rain inside one of the tents alongside Raymun, following Ser Steffon’s departure to seek the remaining knights needed to fight by his side.
Suddenly, the tent flap flew open, and Egg appeared, wearing a long, dark cloak dripping with rainwater.
"Ser! " the boy called, breathing heavily.
"Egg! " Duncan exclaimed in surprise, rushing toward him. "What are you doing here?"
"I am your squire, Ser. I’ve come to help you don your armor." Egg looked up at Dunk with unwavering resolve.
"Does your father know you've left the castle?" Duncan asked, his brow furrowed with worry.
"I should hope not..." a voice drifted in as a hooded figure entered the tent. Duncan recognized him instantly: it was Prince Daeron.
"I don't think I could stomach another lashing on my foot tonight." Daeron remarked, pulling off his sodden cloak and tossing it onto the table.
"You!" Duncan lunged forward with his dagger drawn. Egg tried to hold him back, and Raymun restrained the little prince, who watched the tension with wide eyes. Duncan pinned Daeron against the table, the blade pressed hard against the blond prince's throat.
"You are mad to come here! I could... I could..." Duncan breathed heavily, rage nearly consuming him, the dagger trembling in his grip.
"Please, Dunk, do not hurt him."
The feminine voice made him freeze. He turned to see you standing near the entrance, lowering your wet hood to reveal the face he so admired, even during those cold nights under the open sky.
Dunk took a shaky breath and slowly backed away from Daeron, who coughed, trying to compose himself.
"I told you not to come! You should have stayed put! " your cousin grumbled, looking at you with a mixture of irritation and concern.
But you paid no mind to Daeron’s words. You walked straight to Duncan and threw your arms around him, embracing him tightly as if to reclaim all the lost time. Duncan stood stunned for a heartbeat, but soon wrapped his arms around you, finally feeling a flicker of relief.
However, the moment was shattered by Daeron’s grating voice, attempting to mask his jealousy with a forced jest.
"It isn’t wise to be so intimate with a betrothed woman, Ser Knight." Daeron commented, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow.
"Betrothed ?" Duncan began, taken aback, but you cut him off quickly.
"Now is not the time for that. Daeron, we’ve already discussed this." You pulled away from Dunk and sat between Egg and your future husband.
"My father has ordered the Kingsguard to fight as well." Egg warned, breaking the silence.
At that, Dunk’s gaze shot toward Raymun, who held his look for a second before turning away.
Egg continued, far too solemn for a boy of his years. "Who do you have, Ser?"
The tall knight scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Raymun’s cousin." The answer earned an immediate, incredulous stare from the three Targaryens.
"I can bring people, Ser. Knights. I can." you hurried to say, desperate to help.
Duncan took a few steps toward you, his expression heavy. "I will be fighting your family."
"My uncle will be well-protected." you replied without hesitation. "And you will not kill Daeron. He said himself that he plans to fall."
Daeron shot a sidelong glance at Dunk, a crooked, almost mocking smile playing on his lips.
"And Aerion?" Duncan muttered, his voice low and firm. "Would you care to see him dead?"
You remained silent, as did Daeron. But Egg could not contain himself.
"When I was little, Aerion used to come into my chambers at night. He’d put a dagger between my legs and say I had too many brothers... that he would turn me into his sister so he could marry me."
Despite the boy's gravity, Raymun couldn't suppress a laugh, which ceased instantly under Duncan's glare. "Forgive me." he murmured, abashed.
The small Targaryen continued, "And he threw my cat down the well! He swears he didn't, but it was him. Besides, he also forced [Name] to—"
You intervened sharply, cutting him off: "Egg, we don't need to bring that up again. It’s in the past."
Daeron nodded in agreement with you, though he knew perfectly well what Aerion had done.
"Aerion isn't right in the head. He believes he’s a dragon in human form. That’s why he was so out of control at the puppet show." you commented.
Daeron shrugged, that crooked smile returning. "A pity he wasn't born a Fossoway. Then he'd think himself an apple, and we’d all be much safer."
The joke didn't land with Raymun, but you let a small, suppressed smile escape.
The blond prince stood up, settling his damp cloak over his shoulders, and turned to Dunk. "Ser Duncan, a word in private?"
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Daeron leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the tent.
"I dreamed of you."
Duncan frowned, vaguely recalling the comment from that night at the inn. "You said as much... at the inn."
The Targaryen shook his head, as if trying to organize memories blurred by last night’s drink.
"Well, my dreams are not like yours. Mine... they come true." He offered a crooked smile. "An impressive talent for such an ordinary man."
The crickets chirped outside, filling the silence between them.
"But I saw you, Ser. And a fire, and a dead dragon... it fell right on top of you. You were alive, but the dragon was dead."
Dunk’s eyes widened in disbelief.
"Did I kill it?"
Daeron closed his eyes, pausing as if searching for the truth within his hazy memory.
"That, I cannot say. We were once masters of dragons; it is hard to believe. Now, they are all gone, yet we remain."
Dunk did not look away, his jaw tense as he absorbed every word.
"It may be that I killed it with my lie. And if that is the case, I ask your pardon." Daeron shrugged, laughing softly to himself. "I am condemned to some sort of hell, I know. Likely one without wine... or without [Name] by my side."
Duncan swallowed hard, feeling a surge of frustration. "It is hard to believe someone like her was promised to you."
The blond Targaryen paused, shooting a sidelong glance at him. "Aye... I suppose so. I was a bit surprised when my father revealed she had come with Egg and me to the tournament, just so we could grow close enough to be comfortable with the idea of marriage. But I like it... thinking she will be by my side for the rest of my life. It truly makes me happy... and not at all eager for an early grave."
Dunk caught the clear provocation. Daeron was rubbing it in his face, that you would spend your life beside another man, not him. The prince's twisted smile left no room for doubt.
Daeron sighed, pulling his hood over his head, and called for you to leave.
As you stepped out of the tent, cloak already draped over your shoulders, you ran to Dunk and threw your arms around him in a firm embrace. You felt the warmth of his body and the strength of the arms that held you so carefully.
"Dunk..." you whispered, your voice low and thick with emotion. "I will pray to the Gods that you make it out of the fight tomorrow alive. May they guide your sword and shield your heart."
With gentle fingers, you pulled a small silk handkerchief from the bodice of your dress, your initial carefully embroidered upon it. You held it out to Dunk, the simple gesture heavy with meaning.
"Keep this." You placed the favor into his large hand, smiling softly. "A favor... for luck."
Duncan flushed, accepting the cloth with a trembling hand, gripping it as if it were a king's ransom.
"Thank you, my princess." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
You smiled once more, lightly touching his arm before pulling away to take Daeron’s hand. You departed for the castle alongside your cousin.
Tomorrow would be a momentous day.
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@lightfun @kuebandungs @girxwrp @joan2914
I couldn't tag everyone who asked me, I simply don't know why. So sorry 🧍🏿♀️