With Love, From Her @emsziewrites - Tumblr Blog

But Never Alone

Daeron Targaryen x Wife!Targ!Reader

Dunk and Egg & Targ!Reader (platonic)

Summary: Daeron and his wife have decided it's best not to go to the Ashford tourney. Unfortunately, Egg doesn't agree.

Word Count: 16,475 (long af, i know but this is the entire show in one go)

Tags: f!Reader, No use of Y/N, Targcest (Reader is Baelor's daughter), Vague physical description for Reader (just to specify she doesn't have all the traditional valyrian features), Canon compliant, Angst, Egg being a little shit (affectionately), Aerion being a little shit (derogatory), Some people are prolly ooc, Alcoholism ? (Daeron is always drinking here), fade to black sex scene

AO3 link

[dividers by me]

"Do you think I'm a coward?" Daeron asks his wife as the two settle in the small chamber the inn keeper had given them.

"What?" she asks, taken aback. "Why would I—"

"We are hiding in some rotting lodge because of me," Daeron interrupts her, eyes brimmed with shame.

She considers carefully what her next words should be. She knows his mind like the back of her hand, she can imagine what kind of thoughts are swirling in his head.

"We are not hiding, Daeron," she says, her words measured. "We are merely… practicing self-preservation."

Two nights prior, while already on the road to Ashford Meadow, Daeron had had one of those dreams.

He woke up deeply unsettled. It took a good number of wine cups and at least an hour of holding him against her heart before she could get him to say anything about what he had seen.

"A dragon," he whispered at sunrise. "Larger than life, mightier than armies. It died. There was a man I've never seen before, a knight. He… the dragon fell over him. But he was somehow still alive."

Daeron's wife is perhaps the only one in the family who takes his dreams seriously— even before they married, back when they only saw each other at family reunions, for Daeron spent most of his time at Summerhall and she at Dragonstone.

When they were younger, Daeron used to tell everyone what he saw in his dreams, only to be dismissed as a child's imagination. He would sit alone at the end of the table, wallowing in his own despair, until she, Baelor's middle child, would come up to him, asking to know more about his dreams.

The couple knows that seeing a dead dragon has to be the worst of omens, even if neither of them knew for certain what it meant. Throughout the years, they have tried to guess what the cryptic dreams might mean before they come to pass. They've never gotten it completely right.

When she heard this dream from her husband's lips, the princess dreaded that it spelled out Daeron's death at the hands of a jousting knight. So when he came to her the next night asking her to leave before they reached the tourney, she agreed in a heartbeat.

It hadn’t been easy to stray away from their traveling company, which included both of their fathers, siblings and knights of the Kingsguard. They had to leave in the middle of the night, with only what they could carry. They rode the whole day, and got lodgings at the first inn they found before the sun came down.

"We shouldn't linger here. On the morrow, we start the way back to King's Landing," she says, as she sits down on the bed. She bounces on it once, the mattress is subpar.

"That's going to take weeks, Summerhall is closer," Daeron pours himself a drink.

"You would choose Summerhall even if it wasn't," she eyes him knowingly. "We should go see Grandfather first, he is not going to be happy."

Daeron scoffs. "He's not going to be happy either way."

"Yes, but if we go to him, he might be able to placate Father and Uncle for us," she reasons.

The door of their room opens suddenly, scaring the two of them. Daeron leaps in front of his wife, willing to protect her from a dangerous thief, even though he should need protection himself. The two of them groan, however, when they realize who barged in.

"Egg," the princess scolds. "You should knock."

"And you should lock your door," the boy shrugs and closes the door behind him, he doesn't lock it either. "I want to go to the tourney."

"Whatever for?" Daeron asks his little brother, incredulous.

When they made the sudden decision to not go to Ashford, they also decided to take Egg with them. Mostly because without them, no one was really going to put themselves between Egg and Aerion. Not to mention that without Daeron to squire for, Egg had no purpose at the tourney.

The boy didn't refuse them, but also wasn't too happy to miss the event.

"I want to be a squire!" Aegon says.

"To whom, Aerion?" Daeron waves him off. "Believe me, we are better off here. Safer."

"But I don't want to be safe."

"Egg," the princess interferes, a tone of warning in her voice.

The little prince sighs. Daeron murmurs something under his breath and goes back to his drink.

She leans back to the wall and reaches out for Egg's hand. "How do you like your chambers?"

Daeron bought a separate quarter for his brother, at the boy's petition, which he probably shouldn't have done, because the innkeeper eyed them suspiciously, but didn't question them for it.

"It's shitty, actually," Egg says matter-of-factly. "But at least I'm not the one sharing a room with Daeron. Sorry about that."

"What the fuck is your problem?" Daeron turns around to glare at his brother, mildly angry.

"Let us not…," the princess stands up from the bed. Thankfully that is enough to make the two of them drop the fight before it begins.

Aegon stands in front of the close door, looking back and forth from Daeron to his cousin, without saying a word, it becomes uncomfortable fast. Daeron breaks the silence first.

"What is it?" he asks, exasperated.

"I'm hungry," the boy says, with a rather sad voice.

"What are you— we ate less than two hours ago," Daeron downs his drink.

"To be fair, he is growing up. Matarys was the same a few years ago," the princess turns to look at her husband, who sighs defeated.

"Okay, come on then. Let's get you dinner," Daeron leaves the room and leaves the door open, but Aegon doesn't leave right away.

"Go, Egg," the princess tells him gently. "Enjoy your dinner."

"Please," he begs, staring up at her with his big, dark purple eyes. "Please, convince Daeron to go to Ashford. He always listens to you!"

The princess feels somewhat caught between a rock and a hard place. She has always been specially fond of Aegon, long before she married his eldest brother. She is always one to fulfill the boy's whims, even when everyone else had already said no.

She loves Egg like a brother, or perhaps even a son. But she loves Daeron like a husband. And she fears that going to Ashford will end up in his death. She cannot allow that.

"I'm sorry, Egg, but we can't. I know you don't understand, but we just can't. We won't," she tells him as gently as she can.

Aegon stares up at her with sad, resigned eyes. "It's alright," he says. "I won't hold it against you."

"Thank you," she extends her hand towards Egg, caressing his cheek. Instinctively, she tries to stroke his hair, only to be met with absolutely nothing.

"I'm so sorry about your hair," she tells him. "It'll grow back in no time, you'll see."

While she and Daeron are able to pass off as commoners the moment they take off their Targaryen regalia, Aegon has the silver hair of Valyrians, so if they were to stay hidden for the time being, Daeron had no other choice but to cut his hair down to the roots.

Egg leans on her hand. "Don't you worry, cousin. I think I actually like it."

"Oh, really?" she says, confused.

"Hey, do you want to eat or not?" Daeron comes back into the room, annoyed.

"Coming, coming," Egg and Daeron leave the room. The latter tells her to lock the door, but she doesn't because knowing him, he's going to take his sweet time drinking, and she may not be awake when he finally comes back. She wouldn't want him to be left outside.

The moon shines bright out of her window, the night is still young. She takes a deep breath as she watches the landscape before her. She's afraid for Daeron but also stressed about the inevitable moment they will have to meet the family again.

None of them have ever taken Daeron seriously, they won't understand nor accept their justification for leaving. As it is, Daeron is heavily criticized by most nobles. He has reason to think people will call him a coward. Some probably already do.

"It is fine," she tells herself, as she slips underneath the bedcover. "It is better to be a coward than to be dead."

As she expected, Daeron comes back hours later, reeking of cheap alcohol. He stumbles in the dark, until he finally flops in the bed, but at least he has it in him to take off his boots. He drags himself over to her, until his head is laying directly over her heart.

"I saw him," Daeron says and his voice comes out muffled. "The knight from my dream, he was here. He ate and left. He's going to Ashford."

Her breath catches. "So, is it over? Have we outwitted your dream?" she asks in the dark.

Daeron lifts his head and kisses her on the cheek. "I think so. We are safe, love."

"We are safe," she repeats. It's not a split second later that his lips are on hers.

"Daeron," he hears a voice call to him in the distance. In his sleepy and hangover stupor, he can barely tell the voice is distressed. "Daeron, wake up."

It takes him a couple of seconds for him to realize it's his girl who is calling his name and shaking his shoulder. He wakes up with a start. She is standing over the bed, her beautiful face distorted in a worried expression. He takes her face in his hands, frantically looking for the inkling of an injury.

"What is it, love, what happened?" he asks when he finds none.

"Daeron, Aegon is gone," she says, already on the verge of tears.

"What?!"

"He isn't in his room," she explains, words coming out of her mouth like lightning. "I went to the innkeeper, but she says she never saw him go upstairs last night."

"Seven hells," Daeron curses under his breath. He's going to wring Egg's neck the next time he sees him. "He went to Ashford."

She lets herself fall onto the bed and sighs deeply. "What are we going to do?"

"Nothing," Daeron says, like it's obvious. He struggles to sit up. "With this luck, the little shit is going to run head first into my father, and then it will be his problem."

"Nothing?!" she repeats scandalized. "But Aegon, he— he's alone, what if something happens to him?"

"Well, what else are we to do? He's probably already half way there," Daeron point out the window, the sun hasn't been out for long. He really wants to go back to sleep. Aegon has been able to take care of himself before.

It is only when his wife stares down at him that he realizes that's not going to happen. She has that look on her face, the one that means that she is going to get what she wants, no matter what anyone says.

"Fine," she says. "Stay here, I'm going to get Egg."

"What, alone?" before he can say something else, she is already walking around the room, gathering whatever meager belongings she brought. "Hey, no, wait."

He jumps out the bed just as she is about to open the door. "Wait, let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Get out of my way," she tells him, with the tone of a spoiled princess.

"The man," Daeron reminds her. "He was here, he is in Ashford. I— we— it's too dangerous."

"I understand," she looks up at him with those beautiful, deep violet orbs that would look like blue to the untrained eye. "I do, I really do. But if it's dangerous to us, it's dangerous to Egg. And I won't just sit around waiting for Maekar to come and tell us the bad news. So I'm sorry, my love, but I'm leaving to get Egg. I'll come back soon."

She kisses him in the cheek, passes him by and crosses the door. For a second, Daeron just stands there, a certain kind of fear paralyzes him. His brother has charged right to the place where death is await, and now his wife is willing to go there too. For the love she has for their family.

He loves the family too. It's just not easy to take the first step, nor is the second. All his instincts fight him on it. 'Self-preservation', his girl had called it the night before. Daeron wonders if it's common, for love and self-preservation to be so at odds with each other.

He finds his wife readying her horse, a docile golden mare her elder brother had given her as a name day gift years ago. The two of them exchange glances, saying both a thousand words and none at all.

'Are we going to be okay?' his eyes ask.

'I think we will', hers answer.

And so, Daeron mounts his roan gelding and leads the two of them out of the stable. They ride fast, eager to find Egg as soon as possible.

"My father is going to kill me," Daeron musses when they stop to let horses drink from a rivulet. "Or worse, annul our marriage."

She frowns. "He can't do that, it's been nearly a year… Besides, he won't even know we're there. Egg has a good head on his shoulders, he'll be smart enough to stay away from the nobles at the tourney. We'll just grab him and go directly to Summerhall."

If her intention is to make him feel better, she succeeds. So much, he almost forgets where they are going. As they go back into the dirt road, a heaviness settles in his heart. Not once has he been able to outsmart his dreams. He thought maybe this time it would be different. What if he just made it worst?

What if this time he drags his beloved princess down with him?

They reach Ashford Meadow about an hour before sunset. They shudder when they realize the place is far bigger than what either had imagine, tents and pavilions as far as the eye can see. Maybe it's not going to as fast as they had hoped.

They make their best efforts to blend in with the crowd. As time passes fast, they realize it's hard to find someone so short.

"We can't keep going like this," the princess tells her husband. "We have to split up, if we want to find him before the sun goes down."

Daeron visibly pales, she can tell he doesn't like her plan one bit. He looks away from her, overviewing the sea of commoners, and knights and squires. Trying to be inconspicuous, he hands her his dagger.

"If anyone comes close to you, scream. I'll come get you. Protect yourself, please. Kill if you must," he brushes hair out of her forehead.

"Of course," she kisses him with a sense of urgency. "You too."

He nods. "We meet up with the horses when the sun comes down. Not one minute late, you hear me?"

"Yes, be careful," this time, he kisses her and they go their separate ways.

She imagines she must look lost or distressed, because she gets stopped a few times by older women to ask if she's alright. She is explaining to one of them that she and her husband ("oh my, but you look so young to be married!" she interrupts) are looking for her good brother when catches a glimpse of a little bald boy leaving the meadow through the forest.

"Oh, I'm sorry— so sorry, but I have to— Sorry!" she leaves the woman speaking on her own, as she bolts in the direction she saw the boy leaving. "Egg? Egg!"

She runs through the forest until she arrives to a small clearing, by a river. The place is clearly inhabited, for there are clothes hanged over a short brick wall and horses tied to the elm tree. And in the middle of it all, there is Egg, looking all too surprised.

The princess is so happy to see him that she almost forgets to be mad.

"Egg, what do you think you're doing?"

"Um, well, I was going to fish," he holds up the rod he has on his hands.

"By the Seven, Egg. Daeron and I have been looking for you everywhere," she tries her best to replicate the scolding tone of Maekar.

"I'm squiring," he stands his ground. "For a hedge knight."

"A hedge knight? Egg, that is madness. How did you even convince him to let a prince squire for you?"

The boy doesn't answer right away, his eyes don't meet hers. "Egg," she starts slowly, in warning. "You did tell him you're a prince, did you not?"

"Well, I only spoke to him last night, so… no?"

"Gods, this is ridiculous. Come now, we're leaving for Summerhall," she tries to hold his hand but he snaps it away.

"Please," he says. "I just want to squire for him. Just once, please."

"Who the hell is even this hedge knight?"

Egg stops and thinks about it. "I don't think he told me his name directly but—."

"What? So he just let a young boy become a squire without telling him his name or even speaking to him at all?" her eyebrow quirks up.

"I don't think he knew I was there the whole time…" Egg trails off.

The princess feels a headache coming. "Are you telling me you followed a man into the night without knowing anything about him? Are you out of your mind?! He could be an assassin, for all you know!"

The boy becomes defensive. "I know but he said he was coming here. Beggars can't be choosers."

"Yes, but you're not a beggar, are you? You're a prince!" she loses her nerves and yells out.

"Shut up, someone could hear you!"

"Well, you wouldn't need to worry about that if you have just stayed in the inn, isn't that right?"

Egg just stares at her, very sure of himself. "He's not dangerous at all. I followed him around all day, he needs Lord Dondarrion's validation to enter the lists."

It makes the princess stop on her tracks. Her mother was a member of House Dondarrion, and if she remembers correctly, her cousin Manfred was also invited to this joust. "What is it to you? You know what, I don't care. We're leaving."

"Have a good journey," Egg petulantly turns around, throws the line into the river. "I'm waiting for him to come back. He's going to let me be his squire, I know he will."

"No, absolutely no. You're coming with me, and if you're refuse, I'll come back with Daeron," she stomps her foot.

"Okay," he dismisses her.

"Then I'll come back with Maekar!"

That gets Egg's attention, like he had forgotten that was a possibility. "My father knows we're here?"

"Not yet, but…"

"So you two came here without telling anyone? I'm sure Father will not be happy to know that you and Daeron dragged me out of my cot in the middle of the night," Egg says with feigned innocence.

"What?"

"Or that you shaved my head. Without my permission."

"No, no. Don't spin this around," she points at him.

"Then let us make a deal," Egg nods. "I don't tell my father about what happen and you let me squire for this hedge knight."

The princess stays in her place. This is a terrible deal. Maekar and Baelor are bound to find out everything sooner or later, she's getting nothing out of it.

But if she stops to think about it. This knight doesn't even have permission to joust already, then maybe we will never get it at all. The tourney, if she remembers right, doesn't start until next nightfall. After it starts, with no way to participate, Aegon can just leave.

There is another possibility, already brewing in her mind.

She sees Egg's eyes shine, and she can't help but to feel bad. He truly was excited to come to Ashford. He has said for years he wants to be a knight. When Baelor informed them of this tourney, Egg couldn't stop talking about the jousting.

The last rays of sunlight are touching the sky at the horizon. The princess herself might not be happy to be here at all, but it's not like she doesn't understand the boy's plight.

Aegon is the fourth son of a fourth son. He is so far down the line of succession that he is considered completely irrelevant by most. Daeron at the very least is going to inherit Summerhall from Maekar one day. Knighthood is the only way for Aegon to make something of himself.

And every good knight has to start off as a squire.

"I'll come back here on the morrow," she tells Egg, as she leaves the clearing. "You cannot be here alone. And you should not lie to a knight."

"Gods, where were you?" Daeron is trying to turn on a fire when she arrives to the hill where they left their horses, away from the main path, but on the side of a dirt road. "I was about to go find you."

"What, with the fire on so close to the forest? You could cause an accident," she tells him, tired but light-hearted. "I found Aegon."

"Oh, that's good," he turns to look at where she came from. "Where is he?"

She sighs, and she sits on the ground, next to the small fire. "With a hedge knight. He is going to squire for him. He says that if we try to stop him, he's going to tell your father that we took him against his will."

"He what?!" Daeron yells out, his gelding tries to kick him at the loud noise.

"He is blackmailing us," the princess sighs, defeated. "He must've learned that from Aerion."

"I can't fucking believe it," he turns away from her, mad.

"I can," the princess says and when Daeron turns to look at her, she just shrugs. "Surely you heard him speak about the tourney the first three thousand times. He wanted to be here."

"Well, fuck the tourney and fuck him."

"Don't say that about your brother," she scolds him flatly. "I have a plan."

"Thank the Gods for you," Daeron passes his hand over his face.

"Egg didn't tell the knight who he is," she explains, as he sits down next to her. "Hopefully, if we explain the situation to him, he will just let Egg go."

"What if he decides capture us for a ransom from the crown?"

"That won't happen, because we won't tell him who we are either. Just that he is your brother and we're going home. And we're taking him with us," she lays a hand on her husband's knee. "And if that doesn't work you just hit the man and we run off."

Daeron's eyebrows lift high on his forehead. "You want me to hit a knight?"

"What, you've hit men before," she tells him. "Lord Oakheart, that one time. Aerion when he's an asshole. And you really wanted to hit that Tyrell boy at my name day feast."

"Okay, but I didn't hit him, we just left the feast early. Aerion doesn't count, he's my brother. And in case you forgot about Oakheart, I lost," Daeron reminds her.

"Fine, then I hit him and we run off," she jests. He turns to look at her unamused.

"You're more likely to break a finger punching a man than to hurt him," he stands up and goes to his horse.

"Are you calling me weak?" one of the princess' favorite activities is to rile Daeron up, putting words on his mouth and then watching him bend himself backwards trying to make amends. This time, however, he ignores her.

"I traded our last wine bottle for a tent," he tells her, showing her the deep green cloth. "The maid called me an idiot for bringing wine but not a tent. There is one problem, though."

She stands up, next to him. "What is it?"

"I don't know how to set up a tent," he turns to look at her. "Do you?"

"No, my governess skipped that lesson," the two look at each other until she breaks out laughing. Daeron's eyes crinkle at the edges, smiling.

"It's going to be alright," she kisses him on the cheek. "We'll figure it out."

"I would not leave you, Ser," Egg says, walking through the mud. "Not while you must suffer your master dying over and over again. Though it does not feel like these lords are even listening to you."

"Nothing I can do about that," the knight says, eyes down cast.

"Egg!" the princess calls when she sees him. She and Daeron went to the camp where she had found Egg in early in the morrow only to find it alone, so the two of them were scouting the area waiting to catch a glimpse of him.

She comes up to the boy, who is accompanied by the knight Egg talked about. "By the Seven, Egg, I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Sorry," the knight interrupts, confused. "You are…"

She turns to the man to realize that this knight might as well be a giant. The man hovers over everything and everyone, it's a little intimidating. She almost forgets what she is supposed to say.

Before she can answer, however, the man nods. "You are Egg's cousin," he says, to her surprise. "The boy told me this morrow that you came looking for him. I've already given him a clout in the ear for leaving without telling you."

"I— you hit Egg?" she turns to look at the boy, who is smiling slyly.

"He just needs a little stern hand," he nods then asks for her name again. She says the first name that comes to her mind, a lady in waiting her mother had when she was young. "My name is Dunk— Ser Duncan… the Tall."

Out of habit, she does a little curtsy, only to realize that she doesn't know if commoners curtsy or not, and maybe she has messed up.

To distract from her mistake, Egg turns to Ser Duncan. "You are a knight of the realm, Ser. You can say fuck their permission and ride into the lists. Call out Longthorn Tyrell and turn his arsehole into a lance hole."

"Egg!" the princess chides him. "Why on earth would you say that?!" she asks, as if half the family isn't cursing left and right on a good day, but he is far too young for such foul language.

"Your cousin is right," he continues to walk, pulling his horse along. "You are too brazen for your own good."

"Why are you treating theses royal lapdogs like they're your betters?"

The princess, actually, can understand Egg's frustration. No lord has ever being rude to someone in the family and turned out unscathed. Aegon is used to being treated with the utmost respect by the lords of the realm, because he is the grandson of the King.

She can't imagine a hedge knight would have the same experience, though.

"They are my betters," Duncan tells him.

"Goodness, Egg, I don't remember you being this pressed about nobility," the princess tells her cousin, then turn to Duncan. "I am very sorry, my lord—"

"Oh, I'm no lord," Duncan interjects.

"—But my husband and I, we are going… east, and I should like to take Egg with me," she continues. They were going to originally going to mention that Daeron is the brother, but since Egg already called her his cousin, she might as well go with that flow. It is technically not a lie.

"Of course," he says, and the princess is surprised that the man is so agreeable. "They boy and I have a deal that he would be my squire only for this tourney. If I can join, that is."

"Oh, well, you see, we were hoping to leave today," she insists. Egg pinches her on the leg for saying that, she slaps his hand away.

Ser Duncan seems confused by it, but before he can answer, trumpets sound at the distance.

"Who's come?" the hedge knight asks a man passing by.

"Can't you see the banners, you giant cunt?" the man answers and turns around to join the crowd gathering.

The princess stands on her toes to see, but it's not required to be a giant to see the red dragon on the black banner. She and Egg exchange nervous glances.

"Well, my lord—"

"I'm no lord," Duncan repeats himself, although he is distracted by the traveling royal party. "You can call me Dunk, miss."

"I think I can see my husband in the distance. We shall continue this conversation later, yes?"

"And perhaps I should go back, Ser," Egg adds. "Check on the horses."

"Good idea," he tells Egg and then turns to the secret princess. "If you are too tight on time—"

"We can discuss that later," the princess cuts him off, eager to put as much distance between her and the rest of her family. She and Aegon leave the hedge knight, although they walk in different directions.

"So our time is up," Daeron says, wineskin in hand. "Father and Uncle are here. If we stay, it is only a matter of time before they find us."

"Yeah, I know, I know," she princess waves him off. "But we can't leave without Egg."

"I could."

"Daeron."

"I couldn't," he retracts himself. He hesitates before speaking again. "So… what did you make of the knight?"

She is distracted finishing the meal Daeron bought for them. "Ser Duncan seems like an honest man. Humble, but stern with Aegon. He could be a good influence to him, I'd wager."

The princess find his eyes, who are hiding from her. "You didn't join me like you said you would," she says, trying not to sound accusatory.

"I saw you talking to him at a distance," Daeron murmurs. "He's the man from my dream."

"What?"

"Yeah, he was at the inn and now he's here," his eyes trail off in thought. "I didn't join you because he would've recognize me."

The princess is left feeling all sorts of contradictions. Ser Duncan did make a good first impression on her, but to think that he would be the one to kill Daeron… It leaves a bitter taste on her mouth. She reaches out for Daeron's wineskin and takes a swing at it.

"You know, I drink enough for the two of us," he tells her, but makes no move to stop her.

"You shouldn't," she says, wiping her mouth with hand. She really doesn't like wine.

"You've said that before."

"You ought to listen to me then."

Daeron takes the wineskin back from her hands. "I really ought to, love."

By the time Dunk realizes he shouldn't be here, it's too late for him to leave. He has inadvertently walked in to a private conversation between the two princes and their sons, which includes the one who insulted him in the courtyard.

"Fuck me," the brother of the Hand of the King, Maekar, says. "Look at what happens when Father make us attend some circus."

"Might we discuss this another time? Lord Ashford is coming in any moment now, we shall pretend everything is fine," prince Baelor tells his brother. Dunk is fascinated by him.

"Can I take leave?" the cruel white-haired prince says.

"No," Maekar says. "Nobody leaves until we find those three slippery fools."

Of the two young princes, the one with dark hair turns to look at the older prince with an insulted expression. "My sister is not—"

Baelor sighs. "She and Daeron have done this before," he admits. "They like to keep to each other, we've always known that. We should not have forced them to come here in the first place."

"They should know better than to leave in the middle of the night, though," the dark-haired prince interjects.

"Regardless, I'm sure Ser Roland will turn up with them and Aegon in no time," the Hand of the King says.

Maekar lets himself fall onto a chair. "When the tourney is over, perhaps."

"We should be thankful to be free of those three mumbling idiots," the fourth prince says.

"Aerion, shut the fuck up," his father says. "You know what? Do leave if you're not going to be of help."

Having gotten what he wanted, he leaves through a door, which thankfully wasn't the one Dunk was close by. On his way out, he throws to the brown-haired prince a dark smile, which is ignored.

Baelor watches the whole scene in silence. "Daeron belongs in a tourney field no more than Aerys or Rhaegel. And, to be fair, my daughter has a way to persuade him into doing as she pleases. I wouldn't be surprised if this was her idea."

Maekar rolls his eyes. "I don't need reminding. I'm well aware that boy would prefer to be on top of his wife rather than on a horse on any day."

"That is not what I said," Baelor shakes his head, unamused.

"Must you speak so crudely of my sister, Uncle?" the young prince complains.

"Try hosting them on Dragonstone for more than a month," Maekar says, eating a dry fruit. "You too will grow tired of their antics sooner rather than later."

Father and son exchange glances. "Valarr, you should go prepare yourself for tonight. I'll go find you later."

Once the two brothers are alone, Maekar says. "I don't care about his failings. He can change, he will change. Or I swear I'll see him dead. Or maybe I'll annul his marriage."

"We've discussed this before. You cannot do that," Baelor interjects.

The door through which the princes left opens again.

"I've heard about your children, Your Graces," Lord Ashford says as soon as he comes into the room, the game planner right behind him. "The spring rains have swollen our streams. I'm sure they have just been delayed."

"They are not delayed," Maekar grumbles but otherwise makes no attempt to greet their host, unlike Baelor, who is the perfect guest. While pleasantries are exchanged, Maekar sees something, or rather someone, hiding by the door. "You. Who are you? What do you mean by spying on us?"

Dunk has been discovered.

Once the conversation is over, and Dunk has been allowed into the lists, Maekar speaks again. "Very well, Ser, You are grateful. Now fuck off."

Baelor turns to look at his brother. "You must forgive my brother, Ser. Our children have gone astray on the way here, and he fears for them. So much he's to leave at once and search for them himself."

Maekar turns to look at his brother. The instruction is clear, but lost on Dunk, who nods. "Of course, Your Grace. I trust they will not be found dead."

Maekar turns to look at the hedge knight incredulous. That wasn't even a possibility in his mind. Perhaps he really should go out and find them himself.

The princess finds Dunk and Egg inside the tent of the puppeteers, watching a play about Dorian the Fool. She is instantly captivated by the production. She thinks dreamily that when she has a babe of her own, she shall hire this very same company for entertainment at the child's name day celebrations.

After the play is over, however, she has to watch Dunk make an awkward chitchat with the puppeteer girl. Egg of all people has to jump to his aid.

"Was that ill handled?" Dunk later asks both the princess and Egg, when they are at the Baratheon pavilion.

"Oh, it could've been much worse, don't you worry about it, Ser Duncan," she tries to comfort him.

"Don't lie to him," Egg shakes his head like he's disappointed.

"It's not lying," she turns to Dunk. "When it comes to matters of the heart, ladies will always prefer if you're earnest," she explains to Dunk, who nods along and then stops in his tracks.

"Matters of the heart?" he blushes.

"Well, it doesn't take a genius to notice you like her," she smiles knowingly. "You need not to worry. Hopefully, she'll considered what happened to be… charming."

"You considered that charming? No wonder you're married to that idiot," Egg says unimpressed.

The princess is offended in Daeron's behalf. "You need to stop calling him that, he's your—" she stops herself before she can say 'brother'. Egg stares at her in warning.

"I just didn't feel well-handled," Dunk looks away, completely missing the looks the cousins give each other.

Egg shrugs. "She is painting the shield."

In front of them, Lord Baratheon is organizing a tug of war. The princess is thankful she had never met the man before, otherwise he may have already recognized her.

"For pay," he says.

"Well, you always ought to pay good work, even if it's a pretty woman," the princess adds. "Wait, why do you need to shield for? Have you been allowed to join the lists?"

"Ah, yes," Dunk says with a bright smile. "I was given the blessing by none other than Prince Baelor himself," Dunk says, proud.

"Prince Baelor?!" she repeats, surprised. "You mean the Heir to the Iron Throne. You've met him?"

"Aye, miss. He's as honorable as they say," Dunk nods.

From the corner of her eye, the princess sees Daeron, who has decided to keep his distance from Ser Duncan. If he's here, then she must go see him.

"I can imagine," she says distracted.

"You and miss Tanselle are both gigantic," Egg guides the conversation back.

"Is that promising?" Dunk asks hopeful.

"No," the princess snaps back to Dunk, incredulous. "Height has nothing to do with—" she starts, at the same time as Egg says:

"It's a commonality."

She is stunned at how bad these two are, but she has no time for this. "I should leave. I shall inform my husband that you've been allowed by a prince, no less."

"Of course," Duncan smiles at her. "It would be an honor to have you and your husband watch my first joust."

She can't help but smile. "You're too kind, Ser. We'll try to be there," she nods and walks away.

Egg watches her go, knowing Daeron is probably hiding nearby. He would never let her out of his sight for too long.

"Do you think I'll ever make a knight one day?" he asks Dunk.

"Has something happened?" the princess asks Daeron.

"I was going to ask the same. Can we leave now?" Daeron feels impatient.

She sighs. "On the contrary, Ser Duncan got his permission to enter the lists. And you won't guess by who."

Daeron looks at her expectantly. She makes sure nobody is around to listen. On the distance, Dunk and Egg have joined Baratheon's tug of war. "My father."

"What do you mean Baelor gave a hedge knight his blessing to participate in the tourney?" Daeron asks incredulous.

"I don't know, that's what he said… My father must've seen something in him," she hugs herself.

"He is always seeing something in everyone," Daeron rubs his eyes. "So what do we do now? If they watch the hedge knight joust, surely they're going to notice who his squire is."

"I don't know, Ser Duncan invited us to see him joust," she adds, and Daeron feels a spike of senseless jealousy go through him, which is neither here nor there, he knows.

"How kind," he rolls his eyes. "Doesn't it start today?"

"Yeah, the inauguration is tonight. Valarr is the first one to ride," the princess bites her lip and looks away.

Daeron looks at her, knowingly. "You want to go see."

"I would like to make sure he's okay," she admits. "But going there is risky. He could recognize us. We shouldn't go."

Daeron looks around, he finds his brother celebrating the win with Ser Duncan and Lyonel Baratheon. He had never seen Egg that cheerful before. "I don't think he's going to be looking for his sister while jousting."

As the sun goes down, Daeron guides his girl towards the field.

The field makes him nervous, to be honest. His father started giving him lessons on activities such as jousting since he was a young child. But Daeron is just not built for the violence of it all, and Maekar always made sure to let him know that it disappointed him.

It created a divided between him and his father, which has only grown over the years.

At the distance, he sees Baelor, Maekar and Aerion on the dais, along with who he assumes is Lord Ashford. Daeron has always felt quite inadequate for his position as prince, and now, watching them from afar while hiding amongst the crowd, he understands that perhaps that feeling will never go away.

They don't stand close to the first line, just in case. His girl stands on her toes, trying to catch a glimpse of Valarr.

"He's there," he points out for her. His good brother is on the far right of the field, on top of his horse and draped in his armor.

People cheer and gasp and clamor as the tourney begins. Daeron and his wife watch with bated breath, hoping nothing befalls Valarr, as knights all around get injured. When the prince unseats a Tully knight, they cheer the loudest, yet their voices still get lost in the cacophony.

The two lose interest after that, but they stay until the tourney is finished, well after midnight, and they struggle to walk among so many people. Daeron has an arm around his wife, pulling her closer every time he fills a pull. She has a hand tucked underneath his shirt.

"Are you okay, love?" his girl asks as they leave. "You've been… weird."

In the distance, by mere coincidence, his eyes find Aegon's. He is walking by his lord knight. For a second the boy doesn't move, startled. It makes Daeron wonder if Aegon is as afraid of him as they all are of their father. He smiles to his younger brother, and he returns the smile.

The hedge knight calls the squire, and Daeron loses them in the crowd.

"Love?" his girl asks again.

"I'm fine," he turns to her. "You must be so tired. We should go, you need to rest."

The couple spends the morrow following Ser Duncan and Egg through all what they need to be done. It is dreadfully boring, buying eggs, cooking, sewing. All things that neither of them, nor Aegon, would ever have to worry about, living attended by servants and all. But it seems to give Egg happiness.

Currently, he and Ser Duncan are sitting on a hill over-viewing this part of the meadow. Daeron and his wife are watching for afar, hopefully far enough not to be noticed, but also to no hear a thing of what they're talking about.

"I am at my wit's end here," Daeron tells his wife, as a man they don't know comes up to Dunk and Egg. The hedge knight leaves Egg alone, following the man into the forest. "I'm going to talk with him."

"Oh no," the princess says under her breath, as she follows her husband.

"You," Daeron calls out for his brother. "How long are we going to keep this going?"

Egg turns to look at them. "I'm surprised you're still here," he tells them, serene.

"So are we. Why won't you just come with us?" Daeron asks. "I'll tell Father it was all on me. Just come home," he pleads.

"No," he says, and this the boy lacks any bite, any ounce of child petulancy. "I think I'm gonna stay with Ser Duncan for a while. You know, traveling the seven kingdoms, being a true knight."

The princess is as stunned by his words as Daeron. She stares at the boy, looking for the answer to a question she doesn't know how to ask. Two sets of dark violet eyes meet, and she has her answer.

"What?" Daeron asks, genuinely taken aback. "No, you will come home and—"

"Do you mean it?" the princess interrupts him, eyes still on Egg. "I always knew you wanted to be a knight, but a hedge knight? That seems… below your station."

"Is it below my station to lend a helping hand to those who need it?" Egg retorts. "Because that is what a true knight does, and Ser Duncan is a true knight."

"I don't doubt him," she says. "But, Egg, if you go, you'll be so far away from us, from your father. We won't be able to protect you."

To his credit, Egg does seem to consider it carefully. He turns back to them, serious but content. "I will learn to protect myself."

She eyes Daeron to her right, who is looking between of them confused. She takes his hand and turns to Aegon. "Very well, we still have to figure out just what we're going to tell your father, but…" she nods, somewhat emotional. "You can go."

"What?" Daeron says. "No, that's not…"

The princess puts her hand over his. "Let us go," she tells him, and pulls him away from the hill.

"I don't understand," he tells her on their way back. "We've done all this get the boy back, and now you just let him go?"

"I wanted to protect him," she corrects her husband, stopping in her track. "I want him to live a happy, fulfilling life. Love, we were never going to give him that. Better for him to go find it somewhere else."

"And— and leave him with a complete stranger?" Daeron fights. "Leave him to have a happy, fulfilling life without us in it?"

"You know what I think?" she says. "Egg was never going to fit in a stuffed castle. Ser Duncan might be a complete stranger to us, but I believe him to be a good man, and he will make a good man out of Aegon."

"I don't fit there either!" Daeron exclaims in distress. "I don't think I ever will, but I stayed. For you, for my father, for him. Why shouldn't he do the same?"

"And have you ever wanted to leave?" the princess asks him, and he stays quiet. "If there was nothing else for you, would you leave?"

Daeron hesitates, afraid he will offend her. But then again, one of the reasons he fell in love with his princess is because he can always be himself with her, she will always take the truth for what it is. "I would," he whispers.

"This family would only drown him out, the same way it almost did to you," she puts a hand on his heart, she pats him there. "Let Egg go. Let him do what we never will."

He looks at his princess unsure, confused and a little sad, but that's nothing new for him. In the end, he nods and his princess smiles.

"Besides," she says. "It's not like we're never going to see him again."

As they make their way to their little makeshift camp, they hear that Aerion has killed his opponent's horse during the joust. Such an underhanded maneuver is not really surprising to them coming from Aerion. Although the concept of a little riot in the middle of an otherwise normal day is worrying to say the least.

It occurs to Daeron that if the people walking around them knew who they were, they might try to do something to them, retaliate for his brother's foul play. And if they were no longer going to wait on Aegon…

"Should we leave now?" Daeron ask his wife during the golden hour.

Readying the horses for departure is fast enough, although their riders aren't in a hurry. "I guess, I mean, Summerhall sounds perfect right now," the princess crosses the dirt road back and forth, like she's prone to do when she's thinking.

Even standing right in the middle of the road, the princess doesn't notice a groups of knights galloping directly in her direction, until the one in the front has to stop suddenly so he wouldn't run her over. Daeron yanks her out of the way and close to him.

"Watch where you walk, miss!" the man in the front scolds her harshly. He bears the coat of arms of House Ashford. It seems to be a small traveling company, there are other knights behind him, who have stopped as well.

"Sorry," Daeron is fast to say. "We, uh, we didn't realize this was a commonly used road."

"Prince Daeron? Princess?" a voice from the back of the party calls out to them. Out of instinct, the princess turns around to look, and she meets eyes with Ser Roland Crakehall, the kingsguard who was on watch duty the night they ran away from the traveling company.

The two of them are slow to react, half turning away or looking down to hide their faces from the knight who has already recognized them. The man at the front pales at the prospect of having yelled at the royal couple he was looking for.

"Why have we stopped?" an even more familiar voice barks from the back, a horse breaks line and comes up to them. The princess feels like a girl caught with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. Daeron gulps.

On top of his black stallion, Prince Maekar stops in front of them. It takes only one look for him to recognize them.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, I've been looking for you two everywhere and you've been here the whole fucking time?! What the fuck are you wearing? Boy, I swear to the Old Gods and the New, where the fuck is Aegon?"

Like a pair of kittens, Maekar drags his son and good daughter back to Ashford Castle, where they reunite with the rest of the family, minus Aerion because only the Gods know where he is half the time.

"I cannot say I understand what game the two of you are playing," Baelor says when the two enter a study room, with a tone that his daughter is all too familiar with. Valarr and Kiera are standing by the window. "You've been missing for nearly four days, yet are found just on the outskirts of the meadow."

"For what is worth, this was not our original plan either," the princess tells his father, defiantly holding his stare. Daeron looks down at his feet and scratches the back of his neck, Valarr sighs aloud.

"Where is Aegon?" Maekar bites out the question. "You took him with you, did you not?"

"Yes," the two say in unison.

"Daeron," Baelor beckons him. "Surely you're aware that you are responsible for both your wife and brother. What happened?"

He throws a glance at his father, who looks absolutely pissed, then to his princess. Maybe they don't say much, but he can tell she also doesn't know what they should say.

"The three of us were staying at an inn," he clears his throat. "Our plan was to go back to Summerhall, but then Egg disappeared. He, um, he is squiring for a hedge knight here."

Daeron can feel his father stare a hole into his skull. "We had no way of knowing what happened so—"

"So Aegon was forcefully taken?" Maekar asks.

Daeron's mind, however, is drifting back to his dream. They are in Ashford, he can see the meadow of his dreams bathing in moonlight through the window. A dread washes him over, there is nothing he can do now. His dreams are bound to become reality once again.

When his father presses him for an answer, he talks without thinking. "Yes."

Daeron notices the way his wife whips her head to look at him. He avoids her gaze, as Maekar turns around ordering the Kingsguard to go out to the meadow and find Aegon. Baelor doesn't move from his desk, watching the scene unravel.

"Why lie?" the princess asks in a whisper.

"I don't—"

"At the very least, you are safe and sound," Valarr comes up to them, and takes his little sister in his arms. "I was so worried about you."

"That is not very stoic of you," she jests stiff, but returns the hug. "Really, the most in danger I ever experienced was when Maekar almost ran me over with his horse."

"How thrilling," Kiera smiles, and takes her good sister's hand in hers. "I bet this will be just a funny story one day."

"Oh, I doubt that," Daeron frowns and shakes his head. Valarr and Kiera stare at him disconcerted.

When Baelor stands up, his daughter hurries to him. "Father," she says. "A word?"

The two of them step outside of the study. "The hedge knight Egg is squiring for," she tells him, "is Ser Duncan the Tall. Did you not give him your approval yourself?"

Baelor hums. "I figured. There are not many hedge knights in this tourney."

"What's going to happen to him?"

"That will depend on what state Aegon is found in. What comes after, well, is for my brother to decide."

When Baelor tries to go back into the room, she steps in and stops him. "I know what Daeron said, and I would never contradict him, but father, I've met Ser Duncan. He seems like a good, honorable man. He was kind to me, and he seems to be taking good care of Egg."

He gives her a tight smile. "I'll be sure to pass on this information to Maekar when he comes back with Aegon."

Just then, the noise of a big commotion reach their ears. It is loud enough for Daeron, Valarr and Kiera to come out of the study to see what was that about. The five of them follow the noise down to the receiving hall, where they find a very pissed Maekar, a very afflicted Egg and a bruised and battered Aerion being attended by a maester.

Baelor quickly ushers everyone into a lone parlor.

"What on earth happened to you?" Valarr's question falls on deaf ears, for Aerion's gaze quickly finds his brother and good sister.

"Look who finally decided to show up," he slurs out.

Knowing him all too well, the princess decides to ignore him in its entirety, turning her attention to Egg. "Are you alright?"

The boy nods, but he is notably crestfallen. "Ser Duncan has been locked in the dungeons."

"What, why?"

"Who did you think did this?" Aerion smirks, a hand pointing to his bleeding mouth like it's a trophy.

"What did you do then?" the princess asks in a breath.

He throws her a dirty look. "Why would you assume I've done anything at all, sister?"

Maekar then intercedes, face red with anger. "You attacked a troupe of puppeteers unprovoked. Don't you feign innocence."

The rest of the family turns to look at Aerion with an air of disgust. "Have you finally lost your last ounce of decency, cousin?" Valarr asks deadly serious.

"Decency? They were inciting rebellion, killing dragons. A thinly veiled attack on us," Aerion turns around and spits blood very close to the feet of the maester that is tending him.

Daeron, now with a drink in hand that Gods know where he got from, tells his brother. "You're the only one here who believes himself a literal dragon, brother. When will be the day that you don't take everything like an offense?"

"Perhaps the day when you finally drink from a poisoned cup," he sneers on his direction.

Because there is no one around but family, a maester and two kingsguards, Maekar openly hits Aerion for his insult.

Daeron's eyes, already slightly clouded by the alcohol, fixes his eyes on his younger brother. He shakes his head and looks away, steps to the back of the room. His wife follows.

"What's going to happen to Ser Duncan?" Aegon asks, voice small.

"Execution," Aerion answers without hesitation.

"What?" both Egg and the princess ask.

"Not execution," Maekar clarifies. "But there is to be punishment. The man stole away one of my sons and then struck another," Maekar says. "I will not allow him impunity."

"Of course not, brother," Baelor says. "But we will do so in the proper manner. A formal trial," he turns to one of the guards. "Fetch Lord Ashford, we are to gather for a council. Tonight, if possible."

The room quickly fills with people coming and going. On the way out, Maekar snatches the cup out of Daeron's hand. The princess lets go of Daeron's hand to talk to Baelor. "Father—"

He puts his hand up, stopping her. "I know."

Baelor takes his daughter's words seriously. When he sends Aegon to bring Ser Duncan to his study, he has it all swirling in his mind, a plan already forming.

"My daughter and good son Daeron were found earlier tonight," Baelor informs Duncan solemnly. "They, unfortunately, told the tale in a way that lets you be pawned off as a robber knight who made away with Aegon during their stay at an inn south from here."

Ser Duncan is quick to defend himself. "That is a lie. I had nothing to do with that. The boy joined me here."

"As true as that may be, by the time word spreads throughout the Seven Kingdoms, it will be that you committed treason."

"Treason, like the puppetry?" Duncan retorts.

Baelor pours himself a cup, one that Daeron gifted him not long ago, so it is quite strong. "Aerion insists that, because the dragon is the symbol of our house. To show it be slain is—"

"Surely innocent," Duncan recklessly interrupts him.

"Surely," the prince concedes. "But admittedly, far from wise. Even in peace times. Aerion insists that it is an offense on our family, incitement to revolt."

"And you believe that, your grace?"

Baelor walks around the room. "Beyond what I believe, it is a fact that you laid hands upon the King's grandson, and Aerion wants your head for it. While a formal trial wouldn't give it to him, there is precedent for harsh punishment for those who strike the blood of the dragon. And you kicked him too, did you not?"

Duncan nods in silence. "The girl's finger was broken in half. Don't all knights make an oath to protect the innocent?" the hedge knight's words ring true in Baelor's ears. He now understand his girl's plea in favor of him.

With his eyes set upon Ser Duncan, Baelor says. "Another irrefutable truth is that my daughter spoke highly of you," he watches the hedge knight's expression morph into confusion. "The two of you met in these days she was missing. She tells me you were nothing but kind to her and Aegon long before you knew of their high standing."

There is understanding in the knight's face, like it made sense. "I—"

"You have another choice. Whether it is better or worse, I cannot say. So let me ask again, Ser Duncan the Tall, how good a knight are you?"

Valarr and his sister spy on the council made of princes and the Ashford hosts as they receive Ser Duncan for trial. When they were younger, the two and Matarys used to this all the time.

As Ser Duncan stands before the council, the princess takes notes of Baelor's reactions to the entire thing. She knows her father enough to know that he still approves of Dunk, and it allows her to hope that the hedge knight still has a chance to make it through.

"What a swindler," Valarr mutters under his breath when Aerion refuses trial by combat and instead orders for a trial of seven.

"What the fuck is a trial of seven?" ask both the princess out in the hall and Maekar inside the room. Valarr pinches her on the arm for swearing.

Exasperation washes over her as Baelor explains. Aerion has quite a talent for making every situation more difficult than what it needs to be. She and Valarr watch as it is agreed that the trial of seven is to happen at sunrise. They do not have enough time to get away before Maekar hauls Aerion out of the room by his clothes.

The four cross glances out in the hall. Maekar graciously decides to ignore his niece and nephew, choosing to scold his own son as they keep walking.

The pair of siblings wait outside the door for their father, pretending they weren't spying the whole time. He comes to see them with a knowing smile.

"By sunrise, this matter will be settled," Baelor informs them with a warm smile.

"Praise the seven," Valarr says, not unkindly. "This tourney has been far more chaotic than it should've been."

"Do you wager it'll be hard for Ser Duncan to gather six knights willing to go against a prince?" she musses to herself, worried.

"I don't doubt it will, which… brings me to my point," Baelor turns to Valarr. "Perhaps the odds would be much more even if you, another prince of the realm, were to join Ser Duncan's side and fight on his behalf."

Valarr remains in silence for a second longer than usual, which tells his sister what his answer will be. "Must we get involved with this trial?" he asks with no malice. "This is a mess caused by Aerion and Daeron, let them be the ones to carry this out."

"A knight's oath is to defend—"

"It is alright, father," the princess interferes, willing to give Valarr an out, for he truly has no reason to play a part on this trial. "I fear our family has already put Ser Duncan in such a precarious situation. Valarr is right. Perhaps it is best not to get involved, lest we complicate it further."

Valarr seems surprised but doesn't speak again otherwise. Baelor regards his two oldest with an expression that neither of them can read. For a second, the girl believes he is going to chastise them for contradicting him.

"Very well," he nods. "You two are dismissed, go rest for the night. You especially, my girl. You've had a hard couple of days, no doubt. Rest for as long as you need. The tourney will last at least another two days."

"Thank you, kepa," she stands on her tiptoes to leave a peck on her father's cheek.

She leaves her father and brother on the hall, with no intention of resting. She makes her way back to the bedchamber Lord Ashford prepared for her and her husband. She finds Daeron sitting on a chair by the fireplace, drinking. To her surprise, Aegon is here too, sitting on the floor, his cheek resting against his older brother's knee.

The two perk up when they see her. "Where were you? I half thought you got lost," Daeron jokes, but his voice is tight enough to tremble.

"Funny, but I should think I can always make my way back to you," she gives him a kiss on the lips, and that's how she can tell Egg is really on the down low, for he doesn't even pretend to be grossed out by them.

"There is to be a trial of seven at sunrise," she informs them, solemnly. "Apparently when you have seven knights—"

"We know," Egg interrupts her. "Father just left."

"Oh? What did he—"

"I am to fight on the side of the accusers," Daeron tells her, grim. "So are the kingsguards, and he."

The princess feels her heart sink. "But the drea—"

"I don't think that matters anymore, my love," he takes a drink of his goblet.

"It matters to me," she sighs, and starts pacing through the room. "Oh, then there's Ser Duncan. What is he going to do if he can't gather six other knights?"

Egg almost physically shrinks in his place. "I wish I could see him," he says, "I wish I could fight on his side."

"Yes, because a puny thing like you is going to give that tree of a man the advantage he needs," Daeron drunkenly laughs.

"No need to kick him while he is down, Daeron," the princess admonishes while lets herself fall flat on the bed. It feels heavenly compared to the beds she's had to endure recently.

"Sorry," he says. "Egg, you should probably go to your own chambers. The last thing we need is for Father to think you've gone missing again."

"Although," the princess sits up on the bed, stopping them. "There is an advantage you could give to Ser Duncan."

Daeron seems confused. "Me? Is there?"

"Yes. Well, rather than giving him something, you can take it away. You take off one opponent to go against him," she tell them her idea.

Aegon lights up hearing her. "Brilliant!" he says.

Daeron shakes his head. "I'm sorry, perhaps I've had a little too much to drink tonight. We are talking about me not showing up to the trial? Because I would love that, but I think Father would skin me alive if I missed it."

"No, no," his wife says. "You do show up tomorrow, but you don't put up a fight. Let it be seven against six."

'And this way,' she thinks to herself, 'you cannot die on me.'

Daeron lights with understanding. "Ah, so I play dead."

His wife winces. "I mean, if you have to."

"But how will Ser Duncan know our plan?" Egg asks.

"Well, I guess he doesn't have to know the plan for it to work," the princess pats Egg in the shoulder.

"But if he doesn't have enough men to fight?"

"I'm sure he is currently figuring that out," Daeron reassures him.

"Well, there is a way to know for sure," the princess nods. "You two have cloaks?"

"Egg," for a second, Dunk is all too happy to see the bald little boy. Behind him, his cousin —who now Dunk knows is the daughter of the Heir of the Iron Throne— comes in after him, her face barely hidden underneath a maroon cape. He's about to call her by the fake name she once gave him, until he remembers her station. "My princess. Your father informed me that you interceded for me, words cannot describe how thankful I am."

She seems surprise by his words. She does a little curtsy. "I am very sorry I wasn't able achieve much."

"The effort alone is— Wait what are you two doing—"

"I am your squire, Ser," Egg interrupts. "You'll need someone to arm you."

"And I—we wanted to express how sorry we are that this situation escalated so dreadfully and we want to make up for it as much as we can," the princess completes.

"Does your family knows you've come here?"

Before either of them answer, a third cloaked figure comes through the tent. "I hope not," he says, as he takes off his black shroud. "I don't think I could bare another foot-whipping tonight."

"Ser Duncan, I talked to you about my husband—"

Duncan recognizes him before she can finish her sentence. He knows he is the prince who accused him of kidnapping Egg. In a fit of anger, he takes the prince by the collar and slams him against a table. He can hear Raymun, Egg and the princess all telling him to stop, but surprisingly, the prince himself doesn't put much of a fight, not even when Dunk pulls a knife on him.

"Would you pour me cup of wine?" the prince asks lightheartedly.

"Fuck your wine, you lied about me," Dunk bites out.

"Dunk, please," the princess calls out. "This is all a misunderstanding. Let us explain ourselves."

When she steps towards the two men, Raymun yanks her back somewhat forcefully. Daeron tries to push Duncan off him then, but he isn't half as strong as the hedge knight.

"I don't expect you to understand," the prince tells him. "But I had to say something when my father demanded to know what happened to Egg. I couldn't let him blame me or my wife."

"Please, don't hurt him," Egg begs, and Dunk finally lets go.

The prince stretches as the princess takes a seat on his left giving him a look over, while Egg sits on the right, explaining Maekar's plan for the trial. Dunk points to Daeron, "Of course, he must redeem his sons' honor."

He denies it. "I never asked to have my honor redeemed. Keep it, for all I care."

"Daeron," the princess scolds gently, putting her hand on his cheek.

That is when it clicks to Dunk, that the two of them had been calling each other husband and wife. He is confused, she had referred to Egg as a cousin, rather than a good brother. Not to mention that, as far a he knows, Baelor and Maekar are brothers. Then he remembers the conversation he and Raymun had just hours ago.

'They're incestuous aliens, Duncan. Blood-magickers and tyrants who've burned our lands. Just last year, two of them threw a fit all throughout King's Landing at the slight suggestion they should marry anyone but each other…'

Dunk just never imagined that the sweet girl that was so friendly to him would turn out to be one of the people Raymun talked so crudely of. The apple boy himself was avoiding the royal couple's eyes.

"For what is worth," the older prince said. "I shall look gallant only on the first charge. After that, well, perhaps you can strike a good blow on the side of the helm. Make it ring, but not too hard."

Dunk is truly annoyed. "Is that all you came here to say?"

"Frankly, Ser, you could do with all the tricks that you can get," the princess tells Dunk in a serene voice, kindly.

"My father commanded the Kingsguard to join as well," Egg explains.

Dunk and Raymun exchanged glances. They and whoever Steffon brings will have a hard time fighting kingsguards.

"No need to look like that," Daeron breaths out. "Only the three that are here." The princess shakes her head.

"Who do you have, Ser?" Egg asks. When he only names one person, the three royals look at him in despair. If he doubted he was anything other than fucked, it's time to let that notion go.

"I can bring people, Ser," Egg offers. "Knights, I can."

"From where?" the princess asks, but she is dully ignored.

For all he wants to, Dunk can't accept the offer. "You'd be going against your own family."

"No harm is ever going to come to my father. And Daeron has promised he will fall down," Egg explains, the older brother nods along.

"And Aerion?" Dunk asks. "You'd see him dead?"

He hears in horror as Egg describes the abuses he suffered at the hands of his older brother. The older two seem to have know this beforehand, for they remain eerily stony faced, but they do glare a hole into Raymun's forehead when he laughs at Egg's story. Dunk glares too.

"Aerion can be quite the monster," Daeron adds, his eyes off in the distance.

"If you do get to kill him," the princess tells Dunk, "you'd be doing the family a great favor. Not that anyone would admit it."

"He thinks he's a dragon in human form. Perhaps that's why he was ruffled by the puppet show," Egg says.

"A pity he wasn't born a Fossoway," Daeron turns to see Raymun with hidden scorn. "Then he would think himself an apple and we'd all be a great deal safer."

Dunk thinks Raymun might want to retort, but he doesn't, thank the Seven. They should not offend these three.

The older prince turns to Egg. "So you can get six knights on your own?" when he nods, he stands up. "Then my wife and I will steal back to the castle. But first. Ser Duncan, a word?"

As Dunk nods, the princess makes the move to stand up, only for Daeron to put his hand on her leg. "Wait for a little while," he tells her softly, and then steps outside.

Before leaving the tent as well, Dunk turns to look at the princess. She smiles at him, although she looks a little sad.

While Daeron waits for Ser Duncan, he lets the cold night wind bite at his face. His head hurts, but he really shouldn't drink anymore until after the trial. His mind has to be as vivid as it can be.

Ser Duncan stands next to him. He understands that the knight might hate him and the rest of his family, and he is in all his right to do so. But before he walks away cursing all of them to the seven hells, Daeron feels the need to say one last thing.

Just like how his wife and brother are bending themselves over backwards to make it up to Duncan, Daeron wishes to tell the truth to the knight, even if it will not change a thing.

"I dreamed of you," Daeron admits to Duncan.

"You said that," he nods, "at the inn."

Daeron, frankly, doesn't remember that. He was too drunk that night. "Did I?… Well, my dreams are not like yours. Give it time and they come true. Rather impressive for someone… as unimpressive as me. Ironic really, but I've seen you, Ser… And a fire… with a dead dragon."

Duncan's eyes sharpen, his brows frown. "It was a great beast, wings so large they could cover this meadow. And it falls on top of you, but you… you come out alive, while the dragon dies."

The knight stares at him with a storm in his eyes. "So I kill it?"

A shiver goes through Daeron. "That I cannot say." He's not sure Duncan understands what he means by it. He is talking about killing someone from his family.

"We were dragon masters once. It's hard to believe now but… we think about them all the time. My wife, my brothers and sisters, I… They are all gone but we remain. I am not sure who is the dragon in my dream."

"You're afraid it will be you," Duncan nods. The knight is kind but wrong.

When she was young, his wife came into the possession of a flower, touched by a mage to never wither away. It is a beautiful thing and one of her favorite trinkets in the world, she was always talking about it but was very zealous over who got to see it with their own eyes. When they married, she gifted it to him.

'Let it symbolize my love for you,' she said with a cheeky tone and a kiss on his neck. Ever since, he keeps the flower in his desk at Summerhall, confined inside their shared chambers, where only the two of them can admire it.

Not long after their wedding, Daeron dreamed of this beautiful eternal flower still sitting at his desk, but rotting away in a day's time, where it stayed for a long time before it was consumed by fire.

Daeron convinced himself that the reason he never told his wife about this particular dream is because it was simply too vague to discern any meaning to it, but deep down he knows the truth of what it means. He knew the moment he woke up that night.

He is going to outlive his wife.

He knows not when, why or how, he's not even sure he wants to know. It keeps him up at night sometimes, the knowledge finds him at the bottom of every bottle of wine. More often than not, Daeron can't bring himself to think about it for long, lest he spiral into a deep depression.

Every time he dreams of something dreadful, his first assumption is that it is connected to his wife's death. He tries his best to steer her away from any danger, but he has done a poor job up to now.

So no, Daeron is not afraid to die, not now at least. He's more so afraid that the dragon Ser Duncan will kill is his wife, even if now it seems like it is out of the realm of possibility. "I don't care to die today," he tells the knight.

"Neither do I," he responds with conviction. Somehow, that makes it worse.

"It may be that I have killed you with my lie," Daeron laughs bitterly. "If so, I'm sorry, on both my behalf and my wife's. But for what is worth, we are sure get our comeuppance in the future, no doubt."

Daeron does not want to hear Ser Duncan's response to that, so he just turns around, fetches his wife from the tent and the two leave the meadow without saying their goodbyes.

The way back to the castle is short and silent. The cold still bites on him, but the hand holding his girl's is warm and that is enough. There is a guard posted outside their chamber, surely put there by his father. The man says nothing to them, but sighs deeply as they pass him by.

It is dark inside, the fire on the hearth has long died out.

Daeron sits on the bed and lights a candle. He watches hypnotized as his girl shrugs off her cape, then her overdress, she unties her corset and takes off her boots, along with her white stockings. She is left on her chemise.

This is a routine Daeron has witnessed hundreds of times, and one that he will gladly watch thousands more.

He comes up to her from behind, as she is preparing her hair for a night's sleep. His arms surround her, lays a kiss on her shoulder. Through the full length mirror, their eyes meet. Slowly, Daeron bundles the skirt of the chemise up her hips, drags it over her head and lets the silk land on the floor.

"Are you alright?" he asks her through the mirror.

"I'm frightened," she turns around, her eyes are full of unshed tears.

Daeron takes her face on his hands and kisses her deeply, like he hasn't done since they left Summerhall. He leads her to the bed, where he lays her down while he undresses himself. Ever the contrarian, his girl sits up and helps him undo his breeches while he takes off his shirt.

"I'm frightened too," he admits, as he climbs on the bed. "But I want to believe in us, that we have done all we can."

He kisses her again, and then his mouth moves down her body. "What if it's not enough?" his girl asks concerned, when his lips are over her chest.

"Then it will have been the Gods' will," he answers, laying a kiss on the side of her breast.

"I don't want to bend to the will of some god," she says bitterly, her eyes reflecting the light of the candle like the fire of a dragon.

Daeron reaches to the nightstand where the candle stands. He blows it out goes back to his girl's embrace. "I don't want to either."

The princess is one of the first people to be on the stands before sunrise. She cannot see much due to the mist, but she knows in one side of the field there is Daeron, Maekar, Aerion and the kingsguards, on top of their horses, readying for the battle, while on the other end there is Ser Duncan and his haphazardly put together group. Egg is with them.

She can tell something is amiss when she counts the hazy figures in the mist and realizes both sides are one man short. Even more so when one goes from Duncan's side to Aerion's.

Duncan rides to the stands, pleads to the lords for help to join him. In turn he receives mockery and insult. The Brackens have always being rather vulgar, she thinks.

"Are there no true knight among you?!" Ser Duncan calls out in anger. The princess wishes she could answer his call, to help him. But she knows it would be for naught, and it wouldn't even benefit the hedge knight.

The doors of the field open, letting a new rider in. As the mist disperses, she recognizes this knight when he takes off his helm. "I will take Ser Duncan's side," her father calls.

Everyone in the stands cheer for the Prince of Dragonstone. The princess feels at ease, her father is a really good fighter, he shall help change the tide for the better.

Before the trial is to start, Aegon comes find her, he takes the seat on her right.

"What happened?" she asks Egg.

"I'll tell you later," he says.

The trial begins and just for a moment, Ser Duncan doesn't ride out. Egg shouts like a maniac until the horse gets going.

Once the horses meet in the middle of the jousting field, the battle is just as violent as she had imagined. She watches everything go down with her heart on her throat.

It is so chaotic —every man fighting whoever is in front of them—, that she doesn't even notice when Daeron lets himself fall into the ground, but his body dumped in the mud is easy to find. To her anxiety, he is a really good actor, he doesn't even move at all, not even when a horse almost runs over him.

Very quickly, Ser Duncan is dismounted by Aerion and falls to the ground. On her side, Egg goes rigid. The two of them watch with bated breath until he gets up.

Cruel, young Aerion doesn't waiting for him, hitting him with his flail repeatedly. The princess wants to shield Aegon, to make sure he doesn't see such sadism, but he just pushes her away.

Prince and hedge knight brawl in the mud. It would seem like the only people really rooting for Duncan are the two of them and one redheaded lady who cheers animatedly when Dunk lands a hit on Aerion.

Somewhere else in the field, her father and uncle go at it too, for they are really the only two people who can fight one other, and they are brutal with it.

The cruel dragon doesn't play fair, of course, and that get him the upper hand. Egg and the princess have to look away in pain. She wonders just how one can move on with such injuries. Her mind wanders to her Daeron. may he be free of it all.

Aerion even tries to blind Duncan, leaving him no other option than to take off his helm. His wounds are so much worse than those that the princess had ever seen on a living man. She feels bile rise up on her throat.

Even as injured as he is, Dunk lands slashes and stabs on Aerion. The two fall onto the ground, this time Duncan doesn't get up.

Egg screams, beckons Dunk to finish it, while Aerion demands him to yield. He falls into the mud.

"Get up," Aegon says holds onto the rail, although the princess thinks the man is already dead. "Get up, Ser."

As Aerion announces to the public that the trial is over, the knight is dead, Aegon starts tearing up. "Get up! Get up, Ser!! GET UP!!!"

She almost misses the blink, how Duncan comes to his senses just as they are about to end the trial. "WAIT!" Aegon cries, pointing to his hedge knight.

One can see the reaction across the public: confusion, gasps and then ear-deafening cheers as Dunk finds a way to stand on his two feet. Not even the princess can help herself at clapping as Duncan beats Aerion into a pulp with his own shield.

For a second, the princess wonders if this is Daeron's dream, Duncan killing Aerion. She loses some of her enthusiasm.

Not too far away from them, the remaining men on Dunk's side have to come together to stop Maekar from reaching his son. He even hits her father with his mace.

Duncan gets up and drags Aerion by the leg towards the dais where the Ashfords are watching, holds up his mostly limp body. "Tell them!" he demands the prince.

"I withdraw my accusation," Aerion breathes out. People cheer, and relief washes over both the princess and Aegon, it is finally over. The two cousins hug briefly until Egg leaves her on the stands to go see Dunk being mended.

All knights leave field, some of them hauled out. She sees Maekar ordering people around to get maesters to both of his sons. The princess is then affronted with a decision.

She should go see Daeron first. She desperately wants to her husband alive with her own eyes. To hold him and be held by him now that this is all over. But she saw Dunk. He is so battered and bruised, she would be surprised if he gets to see the next sunrise.

If he is going to die, Aegon will be devastated, and she doesn't want either of them to be alone when it happens.

And so she makes her way along the crowd, looking for the corner Raymun Fossoway has taken Dunk to.

When she finally finds them, what she finds should shake to the core, but it doesn't, because she doesn't understand what is happening. She sees Egg first, looking more horrified than he was during the trial, Fossoway and another man standing completely still. Duncan is on the floor, crying holding onto someone.

It takes the princess a second to recognize the man on the floor is none other than her own father. There's blood, a lot of it, and she cannot tell if it's Dunk's or her father's.

"Kepa?" she calls, but for the first time in her whole life, he doesn't answer. The men turn around to realize that she is here. Egg looks at her devastated, Dunk can't even look at her in the eyes. Fossoway is the first one to react.

"I'm sorry, my princess, you have to leave. Where is the rest of your family?" he tries to gently lead her away.

"Wait, no. What's happened? Is my father going to be okay?" she is starting to get agitated, trying to turn back, but Fossoway doesn't let go.

On the other side of the field, Maekar is cursing everyone out. The maesters for not getting here as soon as he called. Daeron for 'fucking playing dead since the beginning'. Baelor for landing a good hit on his left arm. Aegon for cheering too loud against them. Aerion for starting this stupidity to begin with.

However, nobody is really listening to him —except Valarr, who arrived as soon as the trial ended— for both of his sons are only half conscious. The first thing the maesters did was to give them milk of the poppy for the pain.

"Is your honor restored yet, cousin?" Valarr asks Aerion in a tone that is surely mocking but he is too prim to be obvious.

"If you're not going to be of help here, nephew…" Maekar starts.

He is distracted by Daeron, who is half seated against the wall. "Love," he calls. A horse kicked him the side of the head out in the field, and the maester says he likely is going to lose a part of his ear, although not the hearing at all.

"Love," he murmurs again, lifting his hand towards the field.

"Is he hallucinating?" Valarr asks the maesters.

"Might be," the elder one said.

It is only when a woman's cries reaches Maekar's ears that turns around towards the field. He sees his good daughter, who is being pushed towards them by one of the men who fought on the hedge knight's side. Maekar has no more patience for this tourney.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demands to know. He is quick to assume the worst when he realizes the girl is crying and turning her back towards Gods know where. Daeron keeps deliriously calling for her.

The knight clearly doesn't know what to tell them, but he is forgotten the moment the princess hauls herself towards Maekar, holding on to him.

While he loves his niece, they are not that close. He is surprised by the strength of her arms around him.

"Sister," Valarr reaches them, holding onto her shoulders. "What happened, are you injured?"

"It's Father," she turns around, across the field where a small group is gathering. Someone there screams in horror. "I think he's dead."

Valarr is the first one to leave, hurling himself towards where the crowd is. As gently as Maekar can, he rips himself away from the princess and follows him, leaving her alone.

Fossoway guides her towards her husband, who is waiting for her with open arms. He's bloody and not fully on his own head, but holds her close, combing through her hair with his fingers.

Daeron has no idea what just happened, that the realm has changed forever, that she just lost her father. In fact, he is about pass out from the milk of the poppy, but his mere presence offers her a second of solace. One she desperately needs.

Surprisingly enough, the most complicated thing about the funeral is choosing where to hold it.

Maekar insists on some place away from the meadow, for privacy's sake. Gods know that after word spreads throughout the Seven Kingdoms, none of them are going to have peace for a while. Lord Ashford offers a cliff close by.

As per Targaryen custom, the body of Baelor Breakspear is burned to ashes in a funeral pyre. The princess stands by her brother the whole time, instead of with Daeron, who is by his father and youngest brother. They chose to stay on the far side.

She still cannot believe it was Maekar himself who delivered the killing blow. She still cannot believe there was a killing blow, even as the warmth of the fire kisses her face. The reality hasn't settled in yet.

She, Valarr and Kiera are the last to leave the cliff, after the smoke runs out. She sees Daeron at the distance, waiting for her to go back to the castle.

'How could I have been so blind?' she despairs inside her mind. The possibility of the dead being anyone but Daeron never even crossed her mind, until she saw her father sprawled on the floor dead. And now the whole realm pays the price.

Defeated, she walks the distance between her and Daeron. When she is close enough, someone calls her name.

"My princess," poor wounded Ser Duncan limps towards her. "I— I am deeply sorry for your loss. Seven heavens above, I—"

"I understand, Ser Duncan," she manages to say, a knot on her throat. "Thank you, for coming all this way. I can't imagine it was easy with your injuries."

"Your father was a good man," he starts, and she cannot hear this, not now.

"I'm well aware, Ser Duncan," she interrupts him. She really wants to leave.

"You were my friend, this last couple of days," he tells her, with a crack on his voice. "And I'm so sorry our friendship led your father's death. I hope one day you find it on yourself to forgive me."

She looks towards the funeral pyre. Valarr is looking in their direction. "I don't blame you," she clarifies. "I don't think there is one person who can carry all the blame here. Perhaps that is what makes his loss all the more difficult."

Dunk looks at her through swollen eyelids. "I'm still very sorry."

From behind her, Daeron calls her name. Duncan nods in understanding. "You are to leave. I will go talk to your brother, if you don't mind, princess."

"Of course. Just… don't take to heart whatever he says," she advises him. "He's hurting more than he lets on."

The hedge knight nods. "Goodbye, my princess. May the rest of your days be merrier than this."

"Does it hurt a lot?" the princess asks him, when they are laying on their bed, the tips of her fingers gently passing over the stitches on Daeron's left cheek. She doesn't dare to go anywhere near his damaged ear.

He does his best to suppress a hiss. "Yes," he admits. She lets her hand fall to his chest. "Am I less pleasant to look at now?"

"Never," she moves just enough to kiss his chin.

They are happy to be lazying around for the first time in a long while, when the door opens suddenly. The two of scramble onto their feet somehow.

"Seven hells, Egg. Knock!" she chides. But the boy is not in the mood.

He throws himself into her arms, and for the first time in more than a year, she watches the boy cry openly. The couple hug him in between them, comfort him as he tells them how Duncan rejected his father's offer to be a knight at Summerhall, so Egg could remain his squire. And while they lament it, neither of them can bring themselves to blame the knight.

They too would take the out if they could.

Regardless, they hold their boy until he's calmed down and decided leave the room on his own, thinking Egg perhaps needs the respite of some private time.

Maekar comes to tell them in the afternoon that they are all to leave early in the morrow.

The princess takes to run around the chamber, making sure that all their belongings are ready to be hauled out, for the travel back to King's Landing.

"Can I ask you a question?" Daeron asks his wife, who turns to look at him with gentle curiosity.

"Of course," she murmurs.

"Even after everything," he starts. "Do you still believe Egg should stay with Ser Duncan?"

She sits on the bed, her eyes trail off. Daeron watches her closely, he notices the moment when tears start gathering in her eyes, how she gulps it down, wipes her tears off and turns to look at him. "I do. He is a good man. He would make sure Egg becomes the best of us."

Daeron hugs her, lays a kiss on top of her head. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you—"

"I need to talk to Ser Duncan," he simply says. "For Egg."

The princess stays inside the chamber for the rest of day, alone with her own thoughts and grief. When a servant comes inside and offers to bring her something to eat, she refuses and asks instead for wine, even though she doesn't like it.

All she wants to do is to not think at all. Her mind is made of so many jumbled threads she doesn't even know how to untangle it anymore. There were so many things that has happened in the last couple of days, her life has changed so long, that it will probably take her weeks before she finally processes it all.

By the time, her husband comes back, she's not even half way done with the bottle of wine, but she's mildly tipsy.

Daeron takes the bottle of wine silently, gives her a side eye and takes a swing at it too, then he lifts the bed covers to hide underneath them with her.

"I like to think that I've done everything I could here," Daeron whispers under his breath.

"So are they leaving then?"

"I don't know," he admits. "But you were right, I've thought about it, Egg and Aerion. It is for the better."

The next morrow, before they are to leave, Egg sneaks into their chamber. With just one look, the princess can tell the boy is not coming home with them. He is, once again, wearing clothes not befitting a prince, he looks like a happy commoner, bald boy.

"Maekar changed his mind?" she asks him, and the smile dims a little.

"Oh," Daeron says. "Well, we haven't seen you at all since last night then," he turns his back on the boy, to make his point across.

The princess reaches out to Egg, caresses his cheek. He leans on her hand. "May your days be merrier this way."

"Thank you. I love you," he tells them, and tosses himself to the two of them. Daeron still has his back on his, so the princess can't really see him but he might be tearing up a little.

"Be safe," he tells his brother.

"Listen to everything Ser Duncan tells you," she adds, feigning solemnity. "Go."

Egg leaves through the door without looking back.

"He's going to be alright," the princess tells Daeron.

"I know," he sniffs. "Come on, let us finally leave this place for good."

Valarr and Kiera are already on the courtyard. Beyond greetings and tight smiles, no one says much. Her older brother and good sister go ahead of them.

"I hope you realize that without Egg and Aerion, we're going to have my father's whole attention on us at all times," he tells his wife as he helps her up her mare.

She sighs and smiles slightly, as she settles on the saddle. "Don't remind me."

As their horses leave Ashford Castle, they hear a ruckus. Maekar has realized Egg is gone again. The couple intentionally doesn't turn to look at him.

Even though they are surrounded by family, the couple feels as though they are lone. Halfway through the day, their horses stray away from the traveling party, following a rivulet, a kingsguard right behind them.

They end up in the mouth of the rivulet, where it joins a bigger river. It is a beautiful sight. They let the horses rest, as they sit underneath an elm tree.

At one point, the two of them exchange glances, saying both a thousand words and none at all.

'Are we going to be okay?' her eyes ask.

'I think we will', his answer.

She will spend weeks recluse in her own mind, going over all the things she did wrong, all the things she did that doomed her father. And perhaps, the guilt will never go away. But Daeron will be there, with his own demons and drinking problems, but he will remain by her side until she takes her final breath.

Because that is the thing about the two of them, they became intertwined long before they wed. And now, neither of them will ever be alone again.