Nik and Price are having an argument in a hanger, and then there's a gunshot. 141 rush in with weapons drawn. They find Price rolling on the floor, groaning; he was still all decked out in his plate carrier, so the bullet didn't hit anything but his ego.
Simon: Wot the fuck, Nik?
Nik: He deserved it.
Price, still groaning: ...yeah, I deserved it...
It's not the first time they've shot each other, and it won't be the last.
Maekar gets caught in a storm looking for Egg and finds a lonely sheep farmer instead.
Maekar Targaryen x Sheep Farmer!Reader x Dunk | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, peasant x aristocrat, class conflict, rage baiting as a love language, grumpy!maekar, maekar is an entitled fuck, slow burn, hurt/comfort?, angst, FLUFF, typos
A/N: i did a poll for this chapter and now we're going to have dunk in this fic 🫦 | cross posted on ao3
Damn this weather. Of fucking course it had to rain again when I decide to travel all the way across the damned realm. Nay, not rain, storm.
It was bad enough I didn't know how to ride a horse on my own, but now I had to ride the horse alone in ghastly weather. It was a wonder we made it to Crakehall just after the sun set. How lucky I was that the mare was so well-tempered, so much so, I shocked myself when I remembered she belonged to one of the Tims Three before this.
I felt so bad for the poor thing, left to carry me though she, herself, was sopping wet and all mucked up in mud. Many times I figured we ought to just go back or find a tall tree and stay under, especially when the sky began to grow dark. She didn't like the idea of either though— I figured with every time I steered her back or made her stop; she began to get restless. But if there's one thing I've learned from rearing sheep for so long, it's to consider the sense of animals. Sometimes, they have more sense than men.
Most times, in fact.
I could not begin to explain the relief I felt when I saw Crakehall yonder with mine own eyes.
... until I banged loudly on its fortified gates and found no response.
I try to bang on the gate again, but my ride paces back, perhaps irritated by the loud banging. I pat her neck, "forgive me, my girl."
I dismount and whine at how my feet sink into the mud. I look at my horse, thinking it's a wonder her ankles have not rolled during the travel with how soft the earth is. I release her reins. If she wanted to walk off, I would not blame her at all. She does nothing of the sort though; she does walk off under a nearby tree.
With the prince's sword in hand, I let a shiver roll down my spine before banging the weapon on the massive, wooden gate. I call out as loudly as I can, hoping some poor soul behind the gate that's unfortunately out in this weather would hear me.
Nothing.
I turn around, finding my horse shaking her head, undoubtedly trying to rid herself of the rainwater that won't cease beating down on her body.
I bang on the gate again, rougher, harder, more desperate.
I bang on the wood so hard, I gasp when I see a dent and inspect the hilt of the sword. It's fully intact... but I ought not to bang it anymo—
"WHO GOES THERE?!"
I gasp at the sudden opening of an eyelevel peephole. I can barely see the face of the man looking out at me but I can tell that he was definitely unpleased.
"SPEAK UP, WENCH!"
I flinch back, yelping when my back hits something. I don't need to turn to know it's my horse, as it neighs beside me. I clutch the sword tightly and raise it, "I've the sword of the prince! I've come to return it!"
There is a beat of silence. "You what?!"
"Prince Maekar! He helped me on my sheep farm and forgot his sword!"
Another beat of silence. "Give the sword here then!"
"W-wha—" I gasp when he sticks his hand out the peephole. I furrow my brows and slowly hand over the sword, "I... I don't know if it'll fi—"
My horse neighs lowly when the sword is snagged roughly through the opening, disappearing with a whir.
When the opening shuts, I huff and stand there for a second... was this it? I mean, I did what I came here to do. Surely, this man would not covet the sword for himself.
I turn to my horse and pat her head. "And even if he did-" I tell the animal, "I don't think it'd be any of my business anymore."
The horse does nothing; she doesn't even move of neigh.
I sigh, "were you ever named something by your master?"
The horse shakes her head, making rain sputter to my face.
I spit and wipe my mouth. I grab her by the reins and begin to walk off, "I will name you Sunshine, because you fared well in this storm, and because you are incredibly well-tempered. You deserve only sunshine in your life."
Sunshine doesn't react. I stroke her neck as we walk off and compliment her greatly while using her name.
"You're such a smart girl, Sunshine," I smile at her, only to grunt when my shoe nearly comes off with how mucky the road is. I lean onto her and pull my foot out of the way, "so strong too, dear Sunshine."
"OI!"
I stop and turn around.
The gate is open now and a man is holding a sword by its sheath, "WHERE YE GON?!"
I shift in my spot, inadvertently turning Sunshine along with me, "I-" I cup the side of my mouth, "I'm going home!"
"Don't you have a prince's sword to return?!"
I think for a moment. I nudge Sunshine forward and we both walk back to the Crakehall gate.
The man sighs, "honestly, woman. You come all this way during a feckin' storm and then you leave without another thought," he hands me the sword back, "I'm not going to be the one to return something to a prince. Lost things must always be returned by the one who found them."
I look around once we enter. I lean into Sunshine, feeling rather anxious to enter a fortress that looked so abandoned. I have to remind myself it likely looks this way because of this storm at the dead of night to calm.
"I've had the master smith summoned," he points, "you can wait in the stables with your horse."
I turn to him, "thank you, m—"
"Honestly, woman, why you decided to come here in the middle of the godsdamned night beats feckin' me," he gives me a look, "you'd be glad if the prince even sees you. You shudda come much earlier."
I take the sword back from him, "w-well, I didn't mean to arrive as late, but the travel—"
"I don't care," he snaps, "just wait for the bloody smith and then be on yer way."
Sunshine huffs loudly as the man walks off, it's so loud, in fact, it startles me. I pat her head and lead her into the stables, happily surprised to find it free from the smell of excrement.
I shiver and immediately plop the sword down and remove my cloak, shaking off it off by the door. At the same time, Sunshine shakes herself off.
Someone grunts from inside because of it, making me turn in surprise.
It comes as a shock to me when I see this hulking man brushing a brown horse by the inside corner of the room because he isn't really someone you would miss.
I raise a hand at him, "forgive me, ser. I didn't realize there was someone inside."
The man shakes his head and moves closer, "s'no harm done. Your horse is just drying off."
My breath catches when I see just how tall and broad he is. He hands me a towel. I gratefully take it from him and wipe myself down.
"Oh," his jaw slacks, "th-that was for your horse..."
I freeze and pull the towel away from my arm, "oh, I see-"
"Apologies," he begins to pace back and forth, "I should have given you a— here." He hands me another towel.
I look at it, "is this for the horse too, or..."
"N-no!" He shakes his hands, "that one's for you!"
"Oh," I chuckle softly, "well... I'm mostly dry now... Just covered in mud waist down."
He looks down at me and opens his mouth, "right, a-apologies." He begins to walk off somewhere.
I chuckle and begin to wipe off Sunshine, "it's not something you have to apologize for, man. It's not you who dunked me in mud." I rub my horse's neck, telling him both her and my name.
The man comes back to me with a pail of water, "Dunk."
I turn to him and his bucket, "dunk what?"
"N-what? N-nothing," he puts the pail down, "that's my name."
"Dunk?" I tilt my head at him.
Sunshine neighs.
He seems to think for a moment. He finally nods, "yes. I'm Dunk. You can wash up with this if you like."
I chuckle under my breath, "thank you, but I don't want to be more wet," I curtsy at him, "how do you do, Ser Dunk."
He immediately shakes his hands, "y-you needn't curtsy t-to me, milady. I-" he shakes his head, "I'm not... not-"
"Not a knight?"
"W-what?! N-no— I am!" his voice gets a bit squeaky, "I am too a knight!"
I giggle, so much so I have to cover my mouth, "forgive me. I meant no offense."
He gives me a rather indignant look.
I snigger and point to the window of the stable, "I figured that shield was yours..." I shrug, "but then again, maybe not."
"It is mine!" he whines and marches to the window, grabbing the shield that honestly looked a bit small on him, just because he was so large. He dons it and points, "it's an oak tree and a shooting star! It's mine own coat of arms! Really!"
I chuckle through a grin, "oh, ser Dunk, I don't doubt you at all. You don't have to explain anything to me, sweetheart. I am a mere sheep farmer."
He purses his lips at the pet name and lowers his shield.
"What's this about a forgotten sword then?"
Both of us turn to the door.
"Oh!" the dark haired man pushes his hood down then and says my name, "it's you!'
"Oliver!" I smile.
He nods in regard to me, "now it makes sense what you said about the Crown." He looks me over, "fuckin' 'ell, look at the state of you."
I tilt my head at him, "what did I say about the Crown?"
"That you got enough help from them," he reaches a hand out, "I didn't think you meant it literally."
The cold from my wet legs make a shiver run down my spine as I reach for the sword and hand it to the master smith.
"Which prince did you say this is from?"
I huf and rub my arms, "prince Maekar."
Dunk tilts his head, "are you a shepherd?"
I turn, "sheep farmer, shepherd. One in the same, really."
"Oh," Dunk shakes his head, "right, right... It's only my boy— my squire boy, that is, said that his dad was given lodging by a shepherd while looking for him."
I think for a moment, and then I raise my brows, "you take prince Aegon as your squire?"
"Yes!" he says rather excitedly.
"Right," Oliver blurts, "this is, in fact, Maekar's blade," he holds it out to me, "I'll tell the guard I've verified it and have you announced so you can go and return it."
I give Oliver a slightly apprehensive look, "can't you just give it back to him?"
"I could," he crosses his arms, "but I was told the prince forgot his sword," he gestures at me, "naturally, returning something forgotten is a deed worth rewarding, and I personally don't make practice of claiming rewards that ain't mine," he turns to Dunk, "do you, ser?"
"Nay," the knight shakes his head in profuse refusal.
"Right," he smiles, "I'm sure Ser Dunk can help you warm up, and I'm sure he can get you a change of clothes."
I nod at Oliver just as he walks off.
Dunk turns to me, "if you're done drying your horse, I can take you to-"
"It's quite alright, Dunk— Ser Dunk," I shake my hands, "I don't mean to stay long."
He knits his brows, "aye, y'might not, but this weather means you to," he puts his hands on his hips, "and I'm afraid I would not let you leave, milady."
I pull my head back and raise a brow, "are you holding me captive, ser?"
"Captive?" his eyes widen as he shakes his hands, "I'm holding you back from catching something worse than the shivers already coming down your arms!"
"I jest." As if on cue, as shiver takes hold of me.
He notices and purses his lips. "Besides, Prince Maekar would not let you leave after returning his sword."
"You have father's sword?"
We both turn and see a short, cloaked boy in a cloak. I gasp at the sight of him. He looks so much like Maekar... yet not at all; he is small and soft-featured, and more strikingly, bald.
"Egg!" Dunk scoffs, "what are you doing here?! You're going to get all mucked up-"
"I came to tell you your stew has gone cold," says the boy a-matter-of-factly.
His voice is so small and yet so sure, it squeezes my heart and forces me to coo.
Aegon turns to me, "who are you?"
I perk and curtsy, telling him my name. I show him the sword in hand, "I do indeed have your father's sword, prince Aegon."
He looks at the object then looks back at me, "you should definitely give it back to him. If I did that, he'd think I went through his things and scold me for it."
I giggle and clutch the sword to my chest, "speaking from experience, lovie?"
He purses his lips, "I'm not your lovie."
I giggle again, slightly taken off guard. I shake my head and bow, "forgive me. Force of habit, I suppose."
The boy thinks for a moment, "I could bring you to his room, if you like."
I nod at the thought, "oh, I would love t if you could, prince."
"And you should really go back to your stew," Aegon says, "it's gone co—"
"Yes, yes, boy-" Dunk shoos him away, "I heard you the first time." He turns to me, "I'll see to your horse."
I smile at him and give a quick curtsy, "thank you greatly—"
"It's no trouble-"
"— Sunshine thanks you too."
Dunk purses his lips only to give a toothy smile. He turns to the horse then back to me. He looks out the stable, "we could need some sunshine right about now."
I smile and nod.
"Of course, it is the hour of the wolf so..."
Aegon looks between us and sighs when his master begins to aimlessly pace. He calls my name and leads me off.
On our way to his father's room, a servant passes us, saying she was sent to escort me. The boy dismisses her and leads me off. Soon, we are stood in front of a wooden door and Aegon is knocking.
I become irrationally nervous at the sound. I gulp and brace the sword against me.
"Father," the boy raps the door, "there's someone here to see you."
No response.
"She has your sword and has come to return it," he stops knocking, "it's a sheep farmer lady is called—"
The little prince's words are cut off by door suddenly opening.
My breath hitches at the sight of Maekar. His hair slicked flat and parted in the middle, his shirt is untied by his chest. I gulp and turn to my feet when he says my name. I reach his sword out to him, "you forgot this, milord."
Maekar's eyes flicked back and forth. He sighs, opening the door a little wider, "oh, you foolish girl."
Aegon watches his father step out. He thinks his insult is said with uncharacteristic fondness.
I dare to look at him, slowly. He is looking right at me but instead of taking the sword, he gently pushes it down.
"I meant to leave the sword with you."
I jaw falls, gobsmacked.
It is his son who asks, "you did?!"
Maekar looks down, "you," his voice is more impatient now, "shouldn't you be in bed?"
The prince crosses his short arms, "I'm keeping Dunk company as he eats his late dinner."
"Gods," the prince's forehead wrinkles, "how many meals does your Dunk eat?"
Just as Aegon is about to respond, Maekar spots a servant and snaps a finger at her, "you," he points, "get a change of clothes for my guest."
The woman turns to me then curtsies at both princes before scurrying off to wherever she meant to go.
"What did you mean when you said you meant to leave the sword with her," Aegon asks before I can speak again.
The boy's tone sounds so nosy, I cant help but hold back a grin.
Maekar raises a brow, "and what do you mean when you ask about things that does not concern you?"
He shrugs, eyes widening, "I'm only wondering w-"
"Well, be quiet and go to bed."
Aegon purses his lips.
"I'm sure Ser Duncan can eat fine without you watching over him."
"But I-"
"Go," Maekar points.
Aegon groans and sighs.
I chuckle to myself as I watch him walk off. He soon enters a room and closes the door.
I turn back to Maekar at the sound of his deep groan. My belly reacts to how he wipes his face, "pardon my boy, he's a bigger gossip than most maids."
I fail to hold back a giggle but try to mask it with a cough. Regretfully, I feel my face flush. My heart quickens when he stares at me.
Maekar notices the tension in my shoulders and tilts his head slightly, "it's alright. You can laugh."
My nostrils flare and I feel my face burn brighter. I lower my head and try to offer the sword again. I reluctantly start, "I..."
I can muster nothing. Maekar sighs, "did you not think it was strange of me to leave my blade by your bed?"
I look up at him and shrug hesitantly.
"It is a gift of thanks," he states as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "that you use to defend yourself with it in my absence."
"I-" I shake my head and straighten up, "no, I did not think of it... why would I?" I clutch the sword to my chest, "you should have said so if it was the case."
He tilts his head and steps forward, "you think so lowly of yourself."
"I think of myself just fine, milord," I nod, "I am a sheep farmer who gave shelter to a prince during a storm. I do not think such a thing would merit such a fine blade."
"It's just a blade," he brushes off, "I have a many, and that which you hold is hardly fine."
I turn to the metalwork of the sheath and feel my heart ache at the thought, "here we clearly differ, prince." I rub my thumb on the meticulous detail on the hilt, "I think you do your master smith, Oliver, a terrible disservice belittling his work."
Maekar furrows his brows at that, "how do you know my smith?"
"Master smith," I correct, looking up at him, "is he not?"
The line between his brows deepen, "well, yes."
"I met him in the market," I look around aimlessly, "I... I had him take Daisy."'
His jaw drops, "what?"
"I-"
"So, you just met him and now you're siding with him?
"Siding?" I pull my head back and shake my head slowly, "siding with what?"
"With him," he blurts, "correcting his title... fussing about his work."
I look at his sword only to give him a confused look, "I don't think I understand-"
"My prince."
We both turn.
Dunk is standing there next to the servant from a while ago. The woman hesitantly steps over and hands me the change of clothes and immediately scurries off again just after I thank her.
The hedge knight awkwardly approaches.
"What?" Maekar snaps.
Dunk raises his brows and clears his throat. He rubs his chest then looks back at me, "I..." he looks back at Maekar, "I was going to invite her to supper, since the kitchens are closed and I have stew to spare."
I raise my brows at the thoughtful idea. I smile softly at him.
He notices and clears his throat again. His ears go a little pink as he points, "of course, after you change-" he motions, "-and speak with the prince."
The prince notices the hedge knight's bashfulness and only finds his irritation flaring further. But, as if on cue, he hears a stomach rumbling.
I clutch my belly, along with the sword and folded clothes.
Maekar grunts and wipes his face again. Suddenly, he feels bad for not thinking to offer any food, "go," he says, snatching the sword from me, "go change and eat, then come back to me."
I look at Maekar then Dunk with uncertainty.
"Go on," the prince motions, already heading into his room, "be quick about it. I still have much to discuss with you."
I watch door close with a decisive click. I stand there then turn to turn to Dunk, who offers me a soft smile.
He motions to the hall, "he's like that."
I hesitantly follow after him, placing a hand on my forehead, "I..." I shake my head, "we had quite a conversation. I'm not sure if he was telling me off or..."
Dunk gives me an empathetic look, "he tells everyone off. Don't let it get to you."
"But I," I look at him, unsure if I should say he sounded... jealous, irrationally so. I decide against it, "he's probably just tired."
"Probably," he points to the final door at the corridor, "this is my room, if you'd like to change here. There's a washbasin as well."
"Oh," I nod, "yes, please. Thank you."
Dunk opens the door for me and gestures in.
I thank him quickly and enter, gasping at how spacious it is. I walk towards a tall mirror, seeing just how mucked up I was. Dear gods, I was filthy. I cannot believe I came to the prince looking like this. I sigh and shake my head, thinking no use of worrying about it now.
Halfway through changing, I hear a knock on the door, "are you done changing?"
I hastily get changed and run up to open the door with a sigh, "yes!"
Dunk looks at me and my heaving chest. He makes a guilty face, "there was no rush. It's only that I wanted to say I have dry cloak by the chair if you wanted to use it."
I turn to the chair, finding it by a table set with food. My stomach growls all over again.
Dunk chuckles and steps inside, "please, help yourself to the chicken stew."
I watch him close the door and hold myself back from running towards the table. He lights the candle there before doing the same to the fireplace.
When the rooms less dim, I look around in awe. There are tapestries, paintings, and fine curtains by the open window. Even floors looked fancy.
He notices my reaction and smiles softly, "it's a grand room, aye?"
"Aye," I chuckle and nod, "I think it's bigger than my house."
He chuckles again, walks over, and motions to the table, "it's certainly one of the bigger rooms I've stayed in."
We both sit and Dunk kindly let me to get some food first. After filling my bowl, he hands me half a loaf of bread and I sigh contentedly the moment I take a bite.
Dunk is eating soon after, "good?"
I nod profusely.
"Help yourself," he smiles and motions, "this is my second dinner."
I hum at the thought, "Maekar mentioned something about you eating a lot."
His blush wasn't so obvious under candlelight but his expression was.
It makes my brows raise, "I mean no mockery, only that it makes sense. you know... for someone your size.'
He chuckles and finishes his bread the next bite.
I am astonished by the speed in which he eats, but make no note of it. "You must have been in many rooms much grander than this, ser."
"Not many," he looks around, "but I have been in a grander room."
"I can imagine, with you having a prince for a squire."
"I'm actually teaching the boy the ways of a hedge knight," he turns to me, "it only happens that his father insisted that we join his hunting party here in Crakehall in honor of Ser Roland Crakehall's birthday."
"Ah, I see. Ser Roland is a friend of the prince, I suppose."
Dunk thinks before responding, "he is a white cloak. A member of the kingsguard."
"Ah," I nod slowly, "it is generous of him to celebrate his guard so well."
He thinks again. He slowly shakes his head, "in truth, I'm uncertain Prince Maekar thinks of Ser Roland much... more like he meant to have this hunting party as an excuse to be with Egg."
I frown slightly, "have you and he been on the road long?"
"About a year."
"Well, as a mother myself, I can believe it," I nod, "He was told me himself he was concerned when the boy disappeared during the hunt. And then, of course, he wandered to my home in search for him."
He hums, "it was the storm that worried him so. It came out of nowhere and Egg wandered too far."
"You keep calling him Egg... is it because he is bald?"
Dunk laughs, loud and heartily so. I makes me grin rather widely. He shakes his head, "I... It's a long story... It's just a nickname, really, a... yes, a nickname... and a long story..."
"Alright then," I chuckle at his hesitation, "keep your secrets."
"I-It's not a secret! It's just a long story..."
"I have time."
He leans on the table, "doesn't the prince mean to speak with you still?"
"Oh," I shake my head and begin to eat rather quickly, "I nearly forgot!"
Before Dunk can even protest, I've finished my meal.
I quickly wipe my mouth and stand to curtsy, "thank you so much for the meal, ser. I hope to repay your kindness soon."
"I-" he looks at me in equal parts shock and awe, "it's nothing to repay."
"I disagree but mean not to argue, so let's leave it at that."
He stammers softly as he watches me leave me.
I find myself nervy all over again when I reach Maekar's door.
He answers the door soon after my knock. He knits his brows at my change of clothes, "what the bloody hell is that?"
I look down at myself.
"She gave you a servant's dress when I specifically stated you were my guest."
"It's not a-"
"Come inside," he sidesteps, "we'll deal with this in the morning."
I gulp as I enter his chambers. It looked just as big as Dunk's room, but somehow felt grander. I don't know if it's because of the evidently expensive things scattered all over or simply his presence.
"I trust the hedge knight fed you well."
I smile and rub my belly, "well, I'm certainly not hungry anymore."
He scoffs, "well-fed and not hungry are not the same," he motions with his head and I follow him to his desk. He offers me a plate of cakes, "blueberry. Rather stale, but it pairs well with wine."
I take a piece and immediately try it. Maekar pours me a cup of wine. I audibly moan at the taste, "this is the best thing I've ever tasted!"
He give me a look, unbelieving, as he hands me the wine.
I take the wine and jump in my spot.
He chuckles and crosses his arms at my enthusiastic nodding. "you're right," I chirp, "it's so much better!"
A soft smile spreads across his face. He huffs, "my sweet thing," he walks off, "you ought to try the lemon cakes from The Red Keep before you declare such things."
I finish my cake as he grunts and sits on his bed. I sip on some more wine while he fluffs his pillow.
"Will you sleep with me?"
I pause.
He pats the pillow and looks at me expectantly.
"I-" I put away my cup, "... do you mean sleep or..."
Maekar shrugs and lays back, "whatever you wish." He brings his hands behind his head, "I spent nearly the whole day catching up on letters I've missed whist in your house, I wouldn't mind simply laying on your thighs..." he takes a moment to stare, "or spending a few hours between them."
I feel my heartbeat spike and my ears burn. I slowly approach.
"Either way," he motions with a hand, "you must get out of those rags if you wish to get in bed with me."
I tilt my head, fighting back a smile, "and if I don't want to get in bed with you?"
He raises a brow, "where else will you sleep?"
I pretend to think then shrug, "the stables."
He rolls his eyes, "if you so recall, I did not even let you sleep on the floor of your own house."
I hum, "well, perhaps since he's already shared his food with me, ser Dunk would let me -"
"Dunk?" he immediately sits up, "you'd rather share a fucking bed with the hedge knight?"
I look at him, unable to withhold my amusement at his aghast expression. I snort and shake my head, "not at all."
He sighs in relief and points, "take that fucking thing off."
I chortle and do as he says, "as you wish."
"And do not tease me so, if you know what is good for you," he give me look, "I'll only warn you only once."
I finally free myself of the dress that offends him so. I slowly climb onto the bed, sequentially on him. My breath hitches at the feel of Maekar's warm hand on my hip. I smile softly as I examine his sour expression. I try to smooth the line between his brows, "you know," I mumble, "for a prince, you're rather absurd."
The line between his brows, in fact, deepens, "absurd, says she."
I chuckle and kiss the corner of his lips, my own slightly tickled by the feel of his beard. "It is endearing and wholly amusing."
He squeeze my hip and with a groan, he flips us over. The act draws a gasp from me. His weight traps me prone beneath him. I gulp at the immediate friction he brings upon my womanhood.
A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms: Prince Maekar Targaryen x Arryn!Reader
Rating: Mature (MDNI)
WC: 4.8 k
AKOTSK Masterlist
Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of past character death, arranged marriage, blood, childbirth, reluctant love, wedding night consummation, family bonding, family dynamics, trauma, no use of Y/n, no physical description given of reader, no beta we die like kings
A/n: For anon who sent me: imagining Maekar’s 2nd wife, who he is not overly affectionate with (because he knows better than to fall in love again!) is pregnant. But the pregnancy, is going quite roughly and it’s all reminding him a lot of how things were during Dyanna’s last pregnancy. Let me know if you wished to be added to the tag list, please let me know if I forgot to tag you.
Maekar had resigned himself to living alone in this world after Dyanna had died. He had never expected to fall in love again, but you came to him by way of his brother, the only other person who knew Maekar better than he knew himself.
A dragon alone in the world is a terrible thing, brother. Mayhaps Lady Arryn can heal that splintered heart. Remember the comfort and joy that her sister, Alys, brought to our dear brother, Rhaegel.
Maekar crumpled the parchment between his calloused fingers after reading the words repeatedly until his vision blurred. Then he tossed it into the fire, watching the flames consume it. The allure of the crackling fire beckoned him. A temptation to let it consume him, burn him to ash, and allow the wind to carry him away. To reunite him with Dyanna. But he had made a promise when he held her body in his arms, watching the life bleed away from her. He would stay strong for their children, the little parts of her that remained behind. He could not leave them orphaned in the world.
You entered Summerhall bathed in light, cloaked in sky blue and white, with your cast of falcons in wooden cages. It was hard to ignore the somber family gathered in front of you, awash mostly in black with hints of crimson and scarlet. Maekar was barely a man of forty, yet looked older beyond his years. Though you could not fault him for such. You had lost your own mother to the birthing bed and understood the toll it took.
"We welcome you to Summerhall, Lady Arryn," Maekar stated, a hard bite to his voice before lifting your gloved hand to kiss. The six children stood in a line, and he introduced each one to you.
"I will be leaving for the Citadel soon," Aemon told you, an eager smile on his sweet face.
"Then we must get to know each other very well before we depart," you assured him.
Skystrike, your snowy white falcon trimmed with black on the edges of her wings, preferred to perch on your shoulder, and you were not surprised when Maekar's younger children gathered around to coo over her.
"Oh you have more!" Daella grinned, tugging Aegon's hand as the two ran over to study the birds in the four cages.
"Does the creature not rip your flesh and gowns riding that way?" Maekar asked gruffly, those intense violet eyes studying you from head to toe.
Lady Royce stepped forward to hand you the thick, leather glove, and you clicked your tongue thrice in quick succession, giving Skystrike the command to move onto it. Your lady slipped off your sky blue cloak fastened with a silver falcon in flight to reveal the structured leather pads sewn into the shoulders of your white gown. An impressed smile briefly crossed his face before settling back into his usual dour countenance.
"She's so pretty and soft," Rhae whispered, stroking Skystrike's white feathers. She was barely five and cute as a button with wide, amethyst eyes and downy silver curls. Immediately, you fell in love with her.
"The servants will take your birds to the rookery," Maekar said. "Though I suppose this one stays in your company?"
"If allowed, my prince. Though she can stay with the others if you do not wish her in your house," you replied.
"Oh Papa, you mustn't," Rhae wailed dramatically, clinging to Maekar's hand.
"She may stay with you, you will be living here, and I wish for you to be comfortable," Maekar murmured, and you could tell those words did not fall easily from his lips. You had been reluctant to accept Prince Baelor's invitation, as you did not wish to be viewed as a noble woman trying to advance herself with a prince of the realm. Alys had been the one to convince you.
"Come, we have a feast prepared in your honor," Daeron said, offering you his arm, and you noticed Maekar's nod of approval toward him. Skystrike cawed before moving to her position on your shoulder while your two ladies followed behind.
The younger children danced around your heels, chattering, and Aerion grumbled.
"You're going to send her running for the Red Mountains," he complained.
"I can assure you that I do not easily falter," you chuckled, feeling Rhae's little hand slip into yours as you held onto Daeron's arm.
The feast was extravagant: roasted duck, venison, fresh fish, swan pies, roasted carrots and leeks, ripe red apples, figs, and large bowls filled with thick, creamy sister's stew. Each bite was delectable, and you fed Skystrike little pieces of fish throughout the meal. While Maekar was silent during much of the supper, his children filled the space with chatter and seemed delighted to ask you questions. Happily, you responded to each one and asked your own in return, wishing to know more about them.
"I did not realize how warm it is here," you said kindly, feeling the sweat bead beneath the thick material of your gown.
"Yes, it can be quite balmy," Daeron commented.
"I will adjust," you smiled, grateful for the chilled white wine.
Maekar escorted you to your chambers as the velvety night blanketed the sky. He had to peel Rhae from your skirts and send her off with a handmaiden.
"I had them bring in a perch for your bird," he said, hands at his side.
"That was most kind. Thank you, my prince," you said, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. The flesh instantly warmed and flushed.
He merely grunted in response as he gazed down at you. A simple truth hung heavy in the air, unspoken, with neither of you ready to broach the topic. Baelor's intentions were clear: to wed his brother to you, and Alys had been the catalyst to push the arrangement along. Those intense violet eyes threatened to burn a hole through you, but you were no stranger to gruff men. Your father had not been made of warmth and gentleness, embracing the hostility and sharpness sculpted into the Eyrie. There were cracks in Maekar, the damage done by his beloved's wife's death, and you suspected you could poke and prod until he crumbled. Then perhaps you could make him anew. Rebuild him from the shattered pieces.
"Sleep well." His boots pounded against the floor as he left you alone. A few minutes later, Lady Jessamyn Redfort and Lady Mya Royce entered to help you ready for bed. Skystrike settled on the perch, yet you remained awake until the hour of the eel, exhaustion finally settling into your bones.
The days passed with Maekar keeping a comfortable distance, inquiring politely after you from time to time. His children filled the empty spaces, and as time ticked on, you grew close to each one. Daeron, weighed down by dreams he could not understand, Aerion, wrapped in anger and entitlement, diligent Aemon dedicated to his studies, sweet Daella with her dolls and endless dreams, Aegon longing to be a knight, and precocious Rhae, who was filled with all the whimsy a child could possess. Each one warmed your heart, even Aerion, for you could see the boy trapped inside him who missed his mother dearly. They all did.
One afternoon, you returned to your chambers to find a gown waiting for you. It was made of a lightweight fabric, unlike the ones brought from the Vale, which had similar leather padding sewn into the shoulders. It was a kind gesture, as most of your dresses proved too heavy for the balmy weather; in fact, you had packed away all your veils and headcoverings, having needed them in the veil to protect your cheeks and ears from the harsh, chilled air of the mountains.
"Prince Maekar asked us for your measurements, my lady," Mya smiled.
"He has had a hunting outfit made for you as well," Jessamyn grinned. "A red hot heart beats beneath his surface."
"It was most thoughtful of him," you smiled, trailing your fingers over the dress's sky blue fabric. You were touched that he had it made in your house colors rather than the Targaryen ones. Though you had to admit he did cut a dashing, stern figure in black and red.
A family hunt was arranged within a fortnight, and Summerhall bristled with a palpable excitement, filling the usual quiet halls with exuberance. Young Aemon would be departing soon for the Citadel at King Daeron the Good's instructions, and so this would be the last moment spent together with the whole family. Even Prince Baelor joined, bringing along his sons for the occasion, who were fine young men.
"I never could resist a good hunt, especially with Maekar," Baelor smiled as he walked with you. "Tell me, has he been welcoming?"
"Very much so, Your Grace," you said, pausing to smell one of the white roses blooming in the gardens as the horses, hounds, and falcons were prepared. You were excited to show off their skills.
"That is good to know. I do intend to press the matter of marriage today."
"I think that is for the best. An unwed maiden living within a prince's household for too long would cause scandal. What if he refuses?"
"Then you would be brought back to the Red Keep to serve your sister, Lady Alys. We would not throw you back to the wolves," he said gently. "But Maekar will not refuse. He might cause a fuss, but he is bound by duty, as are all of us in the end. Not even the royal line can escape that."
He kissed your cheek before parting ways, and you went off to prepare your falcons. Skystrike would be riding with you, and you had assigned Stormchaser, the largest male and coated in black, velvet,y feathers to Maekar, thinking they would be a good fit. The eldest of the bunch was a gray female donned Greywing, your dolt of a brother had named her, and she seemed at ease in Daeron's company. Clever, red Fireheart was in Aerion's company; she was fast with sharp eyes. That left the youngest brown and white falcon, Stormwing, for Aegon to handle. All in good hands.
Maekar came over and slipped the clipped and shorn white rose behind your ear. "Best of luck on the hunt, Lady Arryn. I'm sure your birds will prove their worth."
"Thank you, my prince."
You observed the girls mount their horses before getting on your white palfrey. Maekar and Baelor took the lead of the party, and everyone headed into the fertile lands to the west of Summerhall. About halfway through the journey, Skystrike fluttered her wings before departing from your shoulder and diving through a thick swatch of trees. She returned with two brown hares gripped in her talons. The cadger gathered up the prey and placed it on the cart along with the fish Stormchaser had gathered from a nearby lake. Rhae looked a bit pale.
"I do not like this," Rhae whispered to you.
"It is not for everyone. You can stay behind next time if you wish," you told her gently, noting the whispers between Baelor and Maekar.
"No, I wish to show Papa that I'm brave," she replied, jutting her chin in the air.
"My little Egg, would you let your sister borrow Stormwing?" you asked the boy.
"Of course," he said, showing Rhae how to slip on the glove and the young falcon perched on her small arm, letting out a chitter.
You showed Rhae how to lift her arm and gently jostle the bird into the air, using Skystrike as a demonstration. She followed your movements, and Stormwing glided into the air with a screech. He returned a bit later with a pigeon between his talons.
"Papa, look!" Rhae said, pointing her finger.
Maekar clicked his tongue while shifting his black horse and smiled at his youngest. "Well done, we can bake that into a nice pie." Those violet eyes locked on yours, and he gave you a small nod.
"Now he knows how brave you are," you smiled at Rhae.
A deer was spotted, and the hounds were off, followed by the five falcons. You guided the younger children away, letting the others handle that slaHowever,. Though Aegon was curious and followed behind his father and brothers. The hunt proved fruitful, and the party returned to Summerhall with plenty of meat in tow. Rhae bristled in the kitchens, telling the cook that a pigeon pie must be made for her supper.
"You mean to eat the whole thing yourself?" Egg asked her.
"I do!"
The two giggled as they went tearing off down the halls. You removed your leather riding gloves and headed to your chambers, where your ladies prepared a bath for you to soak in before dinner. You nearly jumped out of your boots when you discovered Maekar waiting for you. He stroked the thick patch of feathers on the back of Skystrike's neck.
"Seven Hells!" you yelped, clutching your chest.
Maekar snorted, amused by your response, but did nothing to soothe it. "My brother and I have spoken, and I will marry you by month's end," he told you.
"Very well."
"It will not be a grand affair."
"I do not expect it to be." You wondered if he meant to offend you with his words, but they didn't rattle you. You were to be his second wife and would receive less grandeur than his first wife. It did not matter if he truly loved you, nor you him; people had married worse for less. At least he gave you space to breathe and provided you with thoughtful gifts.
"My brother and nephews will stay on until after the wedding. You have proven to be a good hostess; I expect you will continue to be one during their stay. I will make the announcement at dinner."
"I will make sure to dress exceptionally for the announcement then," you smiled.
He nodded, passing by you toward the door. "I'm fond of the pink silk and the pearls."
After you marinated in the hot bath until the waters grew cold, you had your ladies dress you in the pink silk and your pearl jewelry.
"Oh, you look so fancy, like a rose in the garden," Rhae sighed dreamily as she danced around you, wearing a pale lilac dress.
"Why, thank you. You look very floral yourself, perhaps we grow together in the garden," you smiled, taking her hand and giving her a little spin. You could feel Maekar's eyes on you while you performed a little dance with Rhae. Part of him ached to watch his youngest slowly pull away from him, yet it brought him joy to find her so taken with you. He loved how kind you were toward all his children.
Maekar stood at the head of the table while the family gathered around, and you clutched a glass of sour red wine tightly in your hand.
"Before we begin to enjoy the bounty from our fine hunting today, I wish to announce that Lady Arryn and I will wed at month's end. It will be a small affair," he stated before sitting down.
There was a brief silence which was quickly filled with soft cheers from the younger children and well wishes from the older ones and adults.
"Wonderful news, brother," Baelor smiled.
You couldn't tell whether he or Rhae was happier about the matter. There was no vocal dissent, and that settled your nerves. You filled your belly and drank wine. Rhae only ate one slice of the pigeon pie and shared the rest with her sibling and Maekar, making a little show of bringing the plate with the heaping slice to her father personally. The genuine smile on his face warmed your heart. There was at least one point of common ground: both of you loved his children. You could make this marriage work.
You and your ladies were skilled in the art of sewing, having practiced over the years to pass the time, and the three of you altered the one red dress you owned for the wedding. You constructed new trumpet sleeves from black silk to honor your husband's house colors and lowered the neckline of the dress, trimming it with black Myrish lace. Even Daella and Rhae joined in on the dress alterations. The house smithy was kind enough to construct a thick black leather belt for you, one that hugged and cinched your waist perfectly, and Rhae helped you lace it with red ribbon.
Maekar found you one afternoon, as you suckled on a bleeding fingertip.
"I would have gotten a seamstress for you, silly girl."
"Nonsense, we have it handled," you insisted after removing your finger, another ruby droplet beading through your skin.
"My wife will end up with rougher hands than me," Maekar gruffed, taking hold of your wrist and wrapping his handkerchief around the wound, applying pressure to your fingertip. There was something about his words that made you flush.
"Your hands are perfect," you whispered, watching the red bloom like rose petals over his neck.
"What a pair we will be, you and I. The dragon and the falcon, both of us with talons."
"The Vale does not breed gentle creatures. I hope I do not disappoint you."
He shook his head. "I have enjoyed having you here, and will continue to do so."
"I am glad, I've been very happy here."
"That is good to know." He pulled the cloth away and hummed when he discovered the bleeding had stopped.
The wedding was held in the sprawling gardens with Baelor and his sons in attendance, along with Maekar's children. Maekar's violet gaze lingered on your dress, a rare sparkle in his eyes making them appear as precious jewels. Your hand seemed to fit perfectly in his; his cloak wrapped around your shoulders as you were united as husband and wife.
Fire and blood. As High as honor. Two winged creatures for ancient houses united.
"You make for a lovely Targaryen bride, sister," Baelor praised, kissing your cheek.
"Thank you, brother," you whispered.
That night, Maekar unwrapped you, taking great care with each garment he removed from your body until you stood bare before you. He would not shame you by ignoring his duties; he detested the rumors hurled in Aelinor's direction and often had arguments with Aerys regarding that matter. A wife deserved to be properly bedded by her husband, for she was the one who would suffer should consummation not occur. His mouth was hot and hungry against yours, desiring affection and a closeness he had not felt since Dyanna's death.
You were surprised by his thoughtfulness, his fingers stroking you and opening you up before his cock nestled inside. Not many words were exchanged, instead replaced by soft moans from you and deep grunts from him. After the strange pressure that made you whimper softly, you relaxed and allowed your body to enjoy it. His large hands adjusted your hips, and you clung to him as pleasure swam through your body. His teeth claimed the apex of your shoulder, the dragon leaving his mark behind, and you realized this was the most he had ever touched you. You savored every moment before a delicious peak wracked your body, and his seed filled you.
He hoped his seed would not take, while you hoped that it would.
In the turn of two moons, you grew with child, a blessing from the Gods, from your wedding night. Though your husband viewed it as a curse, but kept such thoughts to himself.
Maekar's hands would knead your sore shoulders, making sure you had warmed pillows to soothe your back. Jessamyn and Mya would prepare buckets with hot water for you to soak your aching, swollen feet. While you were happy to be with child, you found the toll it took on your body fairly miserable at times. Especially as your stomach expanded and grew rounder. Maester Beldon assured Maekar that you were in good health and that the pregnancy was progressing as it should. Fear lingered in the back of his mind; he had lost Dyanna to the birthing bed shortly after Rhae was ushered forth into the world. He would never forget the memory of holding her in his arms as life slipped from her dark eyes.
Rhae was glued to your side, her small cheek pressed against your bump, whispering to the babe that grew inside. Maekar employed more servants to ensure you were well looked after and did not have to lift a finger for any household tasks. Daeron and Aerion began to hover over you as well, no doubt under his instructions to do so. Even Egg, usually boisterous, took on a calmer demeanor in your presence. Daella helped to keep you entertained with cards, dice, and sewing projects. You even looked forward to weekly letters from Aemon.
"How are you faring today?" Maekar asked, kissing your forehead as you relaxed on the long, plush, red velvet chaise. He was sparse with his affection, still keeping you at arm's length. He did not know if he could love another only to have them ripped away again.
"Oh, the same, she feels lower today," you groaned, rubbing your swollen belly.
"Ah, a she now is it?" he chuckled.
"Just a hunch, it could very well be a boy. You seem to make sons."
"I would be happy with another daughter." His hand skimmed down your braid before sending in your ladies to check you over.
His happiness seemed diluted, fear creeping around the edges. A cold dread. Dyanna had experienced a rough time during her pregnancy with Rhae, and the worry was sharp and metallic on his tongue; a hot, phantom blood filling his mouth and threatening to choke him to death. His nights were restless, pacing around the dark, silent palace while you slept. There were times he found himself in the Sept, knees digging into the stone as he prayed to Gods he never believed in. Perhaps this was their curse for his unbelieving spirit, but he was a practical man and found the Faith to be foolish.
"Damn, this cursed blood flowing through my veins. Shall I bleed myself dry for you? Would blood atonement appease you?" he growled, slamming his tightly balled fists against the altar, making the candles rattle. He continued until he broke his skin, crimson rivulets flowing from his torn, bruised flesh. "Take it then, drain it from me, but do not touch her." Scarlet streaks stained the altar, leaving Septon Barre feeling perplexed in the morning when he discovered the garish scene.
You found him in the morning, shaking in front of the cold hearth, and covered your mouth when you saw his battered hands. You had Jessamyn fetch you a fresh basin of water and clean cloths, and you tended to your husband's hands.
"May I ask what happened?" you inquired softly, wiping away the blood.
A sad, solemn look hung heavily on his lined face. "I had a disagreement with the Gods."
"I see. Well, I should like a word with them for making my husband suffer." You pressed a gentle kiss between his furrowed brow after wrapping his hands. "I will be fine."
~~
"The babe comes feet first," Maester Beldon sighed as your labours progressed and grew more strenuous. "There is but one solution, I must cut it out of her belly."
Maekar's vision went black, and when it returned, he found himself with his hands wrapped tightly around Beldon's throat, the maester's face near purple. It took Daeron and Aerion to drag him away.
Mya kissed your temple. "My prince, there are other methods we can try. They will make my lady uncomfortable, but I've seen my mother perform them many times. I mean no disrespect to your maester, but we women know these ways better."
You gave her a strained smile, squeezing her hand. The one babe her mother had not delivered was your youngest brother, the one who caused your mother to bleed out. You trusted Mya more than anything. Vulnerability strained in Maekar's violet eyes, a brokenness lingering beneath his surface. Daeron placed his hands on his father's shoulders. Though he and Aerion looked just as rattled as Maekar.
"Please, save them both if you can, but she is more important," Maekar whispered.
"Maekar…" you groaned.
"I will not condemn another woman to death. I will not lose a second wife," he said through gritted teeth.
"Come and attend to your wife, my prince, while I see to your wife," Mya said. "This will be painful."
Daeron helped his father to stand, and Maekar made his way to you, drawing your hand between both of his.
"Jessa, see to the little ones, please," you panted at Lady Redfort.
"Yes, my lady," she said, looking rather pallid as she scurried out of the room to tend to the younger children. You knew she had a weaker countenance than Mya's and wished to spare her.
For a brief moment, Lady Royce had considered trying the shaking of the sheets method, but feared that if Prince Maekar had to watch them rattle and toss you with the sheets, it would send him into another rage. So she opted agto shift the babe in your womb manuallyt the babe in your womb. Mya placed a wooden stick between your teeth before exploring your rounded stomach covered with the sweat soaked shift with her hands, pressing to feel the baby's position. The pressure increased as she attempted to shift the baby inside you, making you groan with pain and squeeze Maekar's hand. You were tempted to spit out the stick and scream at Mya to stop. Let the damned child live inside you for the rest of your years.
It pained Maekar to see you in distress, but he could hardly wrap his hands around your beloved lady's throat. Not when she had promised to assist.
"Breathe, my lady," Mya said, moving her hands and pressing them deeper against your flesh. "I can feel her move."
So could you. The babe twisted your womb, a newfound hope springing forth that neither of you would die that day. Your fierce, determined nestling with a heart of a dragon. She was fighting for her life and you must do the same even though your body screamed to be finished.
Maester Bolden sat wheezing on the floor, so two of the midwives came over to inspect you.
"There is a head, my lady," one of them said.
You nearly wept tears of relief. Maekar opened his mouth, but Mya held up a hand. "Wait to thank me until the babe is safely out."
"I need you with me, husband. The three of us must persist together," you smiled as sweat beaded down your cheeks. "We will be favored by the Gods today."
The dragon and the falcon unstoppable.
Mya helped you to stand, and Maekar helped lower you into a squatting position as the midwives gathered around while the useless maester remained sluggishly propped against the wall. Your husband supported you with the strength of ten men as you pushed the babe from your womb. Blood dripped and pooled onto the floor below; a sacrifice. Take this from me and bless me with a healthy babe; my husband is not cursed. We are not cursed. You did not relax until you heard a tiny wail fill the room. Even Aerion breathed out his relief.
"You have a daughter," Mya whispered as the midwives cleaned the babe, wrapped her in a cloth, and then placed her in your arms.
"You were right, a little girl," Maekar smiled, kissing your clammy cheek.
"Let us get her to the bed, my prince; it will help slow the bleeding," one of the midwives said. Once you were lying down, they packed cloths between your thighs to soak up the blood. Your newborn daughter rested on your chest. Her face was slightly squished, and her eyes were squeezed shut. The soft breaths she took nearly made you weep.
"I know, you are not ready to face the world just yet, but you were so brave, my girl," you whispered, stroking the downy tufts of hair protruding from her scalp.
"Both of you were brave," Maekar praised, one hand resting on top of your head and the other on his daughter's tiny back. "She will need a good name."
"Jaelarys means hope, perhaps one with that prefix," Aerion offered up.
"That would be perfect for this little one," you smiled, tracing her tiny nose with your fingertip.
Jaenora was chosen after a week, as the family suggested various combinations. It was the one everyone agreed upon. By then, her sky blue eyes were wide open, filled with curiosity. Hope bloomed, bringing Maekar closer into your embrace as he was not afraid anymore to let you burrow beneath his skin.
Simon Riley with his weird ass acts of love and bizarre concept of boundaries
You’ll be waking up confused in the middle of the night, feeling a strange pulling at your feet, only to glance down and see your boyfriend has thrown the covers off and is attempting to clip your toenails for you
“What in the actual f-”
“I’m tired o’ your talons diggin’ into my legs every nigh’. This is for both o’ us, love.” He’ll grumble in that tone of his that leaves no room for argument, only the sound of nail clippers echoing in the room as your roll your eyes before shutting them again
Every so often when you’re on your period, you’ll be stepping out of the shower, bewildered to find that the night time pad and underwear you’d set aside with your pyjamas on the bathroom counter top, have been put together for you?
“Simon- you saved me all of two steps at most? Opening the wrapper and sticking it on?”
“And you’re welcome.” He’ll mutter casually with a quick kiss to your forehead before he’s off to brush his teeth
“I’m so confused. I might be losing it, Si.” You’ll mention one time, coming home after work with bags of greasy takeout food in hand, his brow only raising in question. “This is maybe the third time now I’ve noticed that the petrol was nearing a quarter tank, so I’d plan to fill up the next day. But next time I get in the car- the tank is fucking full! The first time I thought I had dreamt it, second time I thought I was hallucinating a little bit, but now-”
“Love, I’ve been filling up your car.”
“…what?”
“That’s me. Every time I’ve heard you say you need petrol- I’ve filled up the car.” Simon shrugs as though he’s simply telling you what the weather is for today, not that he’s been sneaking out in the middle of the night with your car keys to run a quick errand for you as you sleep
“I don’t know if I want to ask how or why first.”
“Well petrol’s fuckin’ expensive now, that’s why. You don’t need to be payin’ tha’.”
“You could have just … asked me?”
“… righ’. Noted.” He’ll nod in quick agreement before moving on to take the bags from you, no intention whatsoever of changing his habits
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