a dragon’s governess
part 1/?
pairing: ser dunk x septa!reader
word count: 1,800
content: fluff, slight angst (aerion x reader), slightly obnoxious character info dumping, mentions of Maekar, Aerion, and Daeron, EGG X READER AS BIG SIS/MOM RELATIONSHIP (he makes me feel maternal), prolly completely inaccurate Septa rules in asoiaf (let me live), some characters might seem out of character but i am just warming up i swear, will be slight non canon as we go, not totally proofread
notes: i have not written fan fic in soooo long. dunk you are one of a kind to get me writing again! king! i would like to work through the first season with fluff, angst, and mayhaps smut but lmk if you’re interested girls, gays, and theys. mwahhh!!!
Your relationship with the Targareyn dynasty was a complicated one, to put it simply.
On one hand, they fed, clothed, and housed you in their estates; a luxury lowborn girls did not often receive. A certain youngest son of Maekar had attached himself to you so fondly that he could not bear being separated even long enough for you to take your Septa’s vows. He was lucky you cared more about your vows to educate than your vows to the Seven. He was lucky you couldn’t help but adore the ornery little dragon. Egg was your lad.
Perhaps it was because you had known him since he was so young, or perhaps it was because you filled a motherly absence in his life as his governess; Nonetheless, Egg—through sheer will—carved a spot for you in the Targaryen household, at least for the time being. You knew by the time he reached his teens his education would transfer to the Maesters, and you would be forced to go back to a Motherhouse and complete your Septa training. Then, you would vow to never marry or have your own children. You were already on borrowed time, but Egg was worth it.
On the other hand, your loyalty to the boy also landed you in random Inns throughout the seven kingdoms when it was tourney time. Egg was normally good about at least letting you know what he was up to even if he avoided his oldest brothers, but when you gave him permission to go look at (no touching) the horses in the Inn’s stables, you had forgotten that would leave you alone in the company of Daeron. The stupidly drunk Daeron. Not that Daeron was the worst of the brothers to end up with, but still he was mostly useless when he got this drunk. At least he wasn’t violent like the other.
“Daeron.”
You poked at his shoulder with your index finger. He was slightly older than you, and you mutually ignored the other when possible. But Egg had been gone for more than a few minutes by now, and you were slightly worried.
“Hm,” he groaned back. You rolled your eyes, thankful he had his head flat on the table so he did not catch you. You were already peeved at Daeron from the day before when you stepped away to bathe and came back to find an iridescently bald Egg in stable boy clothes and a grinning, tipsy Daeron.
You knew Daeron intended to avoid the tournament by hiding out with his brother, and truth-be-told you didn’t mind; Prince Maekar rarely scolded you as long as you kept his youngest son mostly out of trouble and focused on his studies. Sometimes you even thought the Prince might trust you. Maekar should have sent you away to finish your vows once your predecessor and own teacher, Septa Lynella, died. Even his daughters should have had someone higher than a novice as their governess, but Aegon was attached and Maekar saw how bright you truly were. You hoped skipping Ashford wasn’t a good enough reason to excuse you of your teaching duties.
“Get up. We must find Aegon and get to bed,” you said, shoving him slightly again. He only grunted.
Once more rolling your eyes, you began to stand before something caught your eye. Maybe the largest man you had ever seen came into the Inn, only made the slightest bit smaller by the hunch in his shoulders. He spoke politely with the Innkeeper and seemed to make her chuckle as she served him a drink.
As he sat down, you couldn’t help but notice the worn shield he sat down beside him. You were very knowledgeable in all the house arms, but that one was unfamiliar to you. You couldn’t help but call out to the young man.
“A winged chalice? Is that connected to House Hersy?” The Hersys, you knew, had a winged chalice on their arms, but it was not quite the same as the one you observed now, if you remembered correctly.
The man choked slightly on his ale. You supposed he was not expecting any attention, least of all on his outfit.
“M’lady? Er-I know no Hersy,” he stammered. You continued staring at his shield. “Sorry.”
You snorted slightly at both the title he gave you and his self-deprecating apology: such a big man to speak so small. You were going to tell him as much (perhaps you had been around Egg too much), but when you looked up from his shield you couldn’t help but just stare.
As a novice Septa, you had not known men and were surely never going to. Well, besides the one time Aerion had forced his slimy lips to your mouth. Bastard. But the man in front of you was no Aerion or any of the other Targareyn men of your age that you were constantly around. No, this man had a genuine kindness in his eyes that you could not help but grin at. And your grinning only widened as you swore you noticed a slight blush dusting his cheeks. Maybe the Inn was just dark.
“What is your name?” you asked.
“Ser Dunk, m’lady.”
“Oh, I am not a lady,” you chuckled. Dunk’s eyes glanced over at the drunken man beside you in slight discomfort. You had forgotten about Daeron.
“He is not yer husband? Or brother?” You could tell Dunk was trying to be polite and not assume. You easily slid away from Daeron and into a seat a bit closer to Dunk.
“Oh, no. Just checking on him. Can’t get more than a grunt, though,” you told him. It wasn’t even a total lie.
Dunk nodded at you. He ducked his head slightly to avoid having to keep looking you in the eye. Gods, you were making him nervous.
“That is very kind of you.”
“So you a knight, ser?” you asked, ignoring his compliment.
“Yes. Headed to the tourney at Ashford,” he said. You nodded back at him, becoming suddenly worried you were keeping him from a meal. You really should be finding Egg.
“Yer going to the tourney, miss?” Dunk asked as you began to turn your attention away from him. He couldn’t help himself but address you with a proper name. The name made you smile more; miss was Egg’s title for you as well.
“I don’t quite know yet.” Another incomplete lie.
“Yer not alone are you? It is not safe for a lady to be traveling alone,” he said. The genuine worry in his tone made heat bloom along your chest. How was it that this random knight worried more for your safety than the dragon prince passed out on the other table?
“No, ser. I am not alone.” Yet another incomplete lie. You would ask the Seven for forgiveness in your prayers tonight.
Dunk deflated slightly at your words, assuming you had a husband somewhere in the Inn traveling with you. Still, he thought it was not right to leave you by yourself even in the perceived safety of the inside. You were about to ask him if he was alone when a sudden outburst came from behind you.
“I dreamed of you!” Daeron said. “You stay away from me, do you hear? You stay well away.”
His words made you gasp and stare as he pointed his dagger at Dunk before storming off back to your rooms. You knew Daeron was troubled from terrible dreams, and you prayed Egg would not suffer from the same plagues of sleep.
You turned back to Dunk’s wide eyes and slightly ajar mouth. His sandy brown hair was tousled from his journey no doubt, and his square jaw had just a spattering of stubble growing along it. While he was still young like you, Dunk was all the muscled flesh of a man. What might it feel like to lay your head on a broad chest like his? What might it do to you to be touched by hands so much larger than your own? You would never know.
“Thank you, ser Dunk,” you told him as you rose to leave your seat. It was time for Egg to do his evening lesson and get to bed.
“For what, miss?” Dunk stared up at you with genuine curiosity. He was trying to think of something else to say to keep you in his company a bit longer and failing.
“For caring if I was alone or not,” you spoke simply. Dunk thought for a moment on his response, but you were already gone. The Innkeeper brought him his lamb and duck.
You found Egg doing something he was not supposed to be doing. Of course.
“I told you no touching!” you fussed as you walked in on Egg mounted on a white horse in the stables. The boy at least had the decency to look guilty as you scooped him off his faux steed.
“You know I can ride, miss! I was just playing,” he reasoned with you. You shook your head at him, not being able to keep yourself from rubbing his peach-fuzz laden head.
“It would not be playing if you got kicked in the head,” you told him. He nodded, pouting as he toed at the stable’s floor. You could tell he was upset.
“What’s wrong, little lad,” you asked, bending down to get eye level with him. He sighed.
“I wanted to go to the tourney, miss. Daeron has ruined our fun.” You sighed back at him. You did agree that the liveliness of a tourney had more educational opportunities for Egg than a damp, stinking Inn. Plus, you hated to see the boy so solemn. He was such an excitable boy, even during your lessons, and you much preferred him that way.
“Perhaps we can figure out a way to go,” you whispered conspiratorially to him. His rotund head shot toward you, and his doe eyes lit up in the glow of your own.
“Yeah?”
You nodded and almost fell onto your butt as he hugged you around your neck.
“Thank you, miss!”
“Yeah, yeah. Return the horses to their stalls and meet me inside for your Valyrian lesson.” The boy began to groan, but you talked over him.
“And then we shall talk about making our way to the tourney. Deal?” Egg nodded quickly at the mention of an adventure and quickly began his work with the horses. You bid him to hurry and began your walk back into the Inn.
Ser Dunk was finishing his supper, and you restrained yourself from going back and striking another conversation. You needed to check on Daeron and prepare Egg’s materials.
You did not notice Dunk’s searching eyes following your form as you trekked up the steps.
