Summary: Years ago, Maekar chose another woman and you both went your separate ways, your brief love story ending before it ever really had the chance to begin. You hadn’t seen him in years and hadn’t thought much about him since, but when he sees you again, he starts to wonder if he made the right choice after all.
Pairing: Regretful! Maekar x Unavailable! Stark! reader
WC: 6k
Warnings: 18+, non-canon, dragons are still alive (maekar rides vermithor and baelor rides meleys), reader has a direwolf and so do her siblings, council drama, smut, betrayal, maekar is questionable, dyanna is still alive and so is jena, arguments, mentions of violence, talks of depression, hurt, angsty, unresolved feelings, manipulation, fade to black at the end, mentions of white walkers, slightly proofread.
Part 2/?| part one
(this is a short chapter, but i wanted to build on their yearning)
You stormed off, walking past Baelor without a word and leaving Maekar.
“Leave her alone.” Baelor spoke.
Maekar took a deep breath.
“Brother, I am in no mood for a lecture right now.”
Baelor put his gloves on, ignoring Maekar’s words.
“Good thing I do not plan on giving one. I said leave her alone and I meant it, we’re guests in her home.”
“Mind your own business.” Maekar muttered.
“You engaging in such affairs is my business. I am heir to the throne and anything that you do becomes my responsibility.” Baelor reminded him.
“I did not do anything that would affect you.” Maekar grunted.
Baelor tilted his head slightly, his lips pursed and facial expression unreadable.
“How would it affect your wife?”
Maekar scowled, pointing his finger. “Don’t you dare!”
“No, you don’t. You have a wife and children, you have a duty to the realm. Reopening the wounds of something you ruined is a fool's task.” Baelor spoke plainly.
Maekar scoffed. “I do not need to be reminded of my failings as a husband.”
Baelor walked closer to him with a look of sympathy.
“You did not fail, brother. However, your guilt is unfair to put on her shoulders.”
“You know nothing of what you speak.” Maekar replied.
Baelor nodded and decided not to respond to his comment for he knew that his actions would end poorly.
“I came to ask, do you still want to take Vermithor out? I came to join you.”
Maekar nodded and began walking towards the area where the dragons stayed.
Baelor walked behind him and in that moment, he pitied his brother. A feeling that he had never felt before, he felt a surge of.
He knew how Maekar felt about you, as it was only a secret to someone who was blind. He pitied that Maekar had never allowed himself to live down his choice, how his life is a constant reminder of his failed choice, how his poor children have the face of the wrong woman.
His brother was doomed to a life of continued misery.
When you got to your chambers, you finally felt like you could breathe. You shut your door and slid down it with a muffled sob.
This couldn’t be happening again, not with him. You had escaped the feelings, the dreams, the questions— all of it and he just brought it back.
You didn’t even know what to think anymore, I mean how could you? He told you that he regretted his life with his wife, pictured you during their intimacy, and thought about you all the time. It didn’t make you feel warm inside, it made you feel distraught.
Both of you could have had it all, had exactly what you had talked about— but he ruined it. He ruined it and isn’t even satisfied with his decision, a twisted joke.
You sat on the floor, your back against the door and your knees to your chest— tears staining your cheeks. The feeling taking you back to how you felt in that moment years ago.
The candlelight dimmed as it melted down quicker than expected.
You sat there for a while, before you eventually got up and got into your bed. Once you were in the bed, you couldn’t sleep.
His words consumed you, every inch of you. His words took root in your body like the vines from a tree— marking every inch of you and only allowing you to think of him.
When Maekar flew Vermithor, he couldn’t focus— not like he normally did.
The wind against his skin, flying Vermithor with Meleys inching closer. It’s a feeling that would make any lord feel as if they were on top of the world, but for him it did nothing.
His mind just thought back to you and your reaction to his words. He didn’t know why he said them, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He had finally stood in front of you, several years later and who knew if he’d ever get another opportunity.
Things happened and life changed. He’d never be able to live with himself if you went through the rest of your life thinking that he didn’t love you. It might’ve been better if you did think that, considering he could never truly be yours.
When Maekar got back to his chambers, Dyanna was up waiting on him— which he had hoped that she wasn’t.
“Where have you been?” She asked.
He shut the door, a huff of air leaving his mouth.
“I took Vermithor out.”
She ran her fingers through her hair as she sat on the edge of the bed, watching him.
Maekar slowly and efficiently removed his clothing, not paying any attention to Dyanna’s staring. In truth, he did not want to face her— instead he wanted to go to sleep and rest his mind.
The room was barely lit, the fire in the fireplace dying and the shutters to the window closed.
Maekar removed his doublet and Dyanna made her way over to him. She grabbed his hands, stopping them in the middle of his task.
“Maekar.”
She pressed a gentle kiss against his lips, one that this time he didn’t invite back.
“I’m sorry.” She muttered against his lips.
“I shouldn’t have been rude the other night, forgive me.”
Maekar moved her hands and continued to remove his doublet, creating a small space between the two of them.
“All is forgiven.”
She noticed his coldness towards her, his lack of sudden interest, and a bridge between them that didn’t seem to be there prior.
“Is everything alright, husband?”
He sighed, a tinge of annoyance accompanying it.
“Yes, everything is fine.”
She walked closer to him, closing the gap and she kissed him again. He still did not welcome it or her.
It felt as if her heart was shattering in her chest.
“Did you go see her?” She questioned.
Maekar walked to the window, cracking the shutters to allow some air into the room.
“Go see who?”
“Her.” She replied.
Maekar turned, facing towards her.
“I will not go over this with you again, Dyanna. It is late and I wish to sleep.”
Dyanna stood there, not shocked— but irritated. She was not going to let this go or her thoughts about it, she didn’t have proof— but the way that her stomach turned at the sight of you was enough. She felt that he loved you, but maybe it was jealousy. Maybe it was an insecurity.
Even if he did love you, she was his wife and she wouldn’t allow him to have even a fleeting moment with you. He chose her for a reason.
Her eyes watered and she paced the room.
“Do you not love me anymore?” She softly asked.
His brow furrowed as he fluffed his pillow on his side of the bed.
“Can you please…” He sighed.
Dyanna stood near the center of the room and began to weep, silently — but just loud enough to get his attention.
“Dyanna.” Maekar called out.
She didn’t answer, she just cried— cried as if he’d truly hurt her feelings.
He got out of the bed and walked to her, bringing her into his arms.
“Don’t be foolish, of course I love you.”
She nuzzled her head into his chest, his silver chest hairs rubbing against her cheek.
“I’m sorry.. I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight.” She mentioned.
She looked up at him, her eyes catching his attention. Dyanna didn’t stare at him long, before she pressed her lips against his again.
“I want you, husband.”
He kissed her back, but not out of want as he always had before.
“Not tonight.” He mumbled.
“Please, I want to make you feel good.” She whined.
He caved, even when he felt like it was a betrayal to you and his feelings that he had confessed. It felt wrong, twisted in a way.
Dyanna pulled her shift off, leaving her bare as she continued to kiss Maekar and guide him back to the bed.
Her hand rubbed against the bulge in his trousers, making him groan.
“You are needy.” He spoke.
They both fell back onto the bed, her hand untying the laces to his trousers.
“You must be equally needy as you are already hard, husband.” She taunted, her hand running along his hard cock.
He kissed her neck, trying to hide the groans that wanted to escape his throat.
He laid back on the bed as she straddled him, his cock nudging against her folds. His hands rubbed over the swell of her breasts, his fingers teasing her hardened nipples.
She began to line him up at her entrance.
“Turn around.” He groaned.
“Turn around? Like not facing you?” She asked, a confused expression.
He nodded.
She turned around, her back to him and sank down on his cock.
The sex was supposed to be enjoyable, something that brought them closer— but instead Maekar was struggling. As Dyanna rode him, he thought of you.
He thought of the way that your hair would frame your face when you were on top, how your lips would part when his tongue would slide against your clit, how your moans were music to his ears.
He could not truly enjoy himself, not really.
As he got closer, he had her stand up— so that he wouldn’t spill inside her.
He wouldn’t do that, he couldn’t risk it.
Afterwards, he slept in the bed with his back towards Dyanna. She slept facing him, wondering what had taken over her husband.
The next morning, the snow had covered the ground as it had come down heavier than before. You had taken your bath and soaked in the water for longer than usual, your mind consumed with him still.
Was this a cruel punishment or Jape from the God’s? To have a married man on your mind in the capacity that you did was unholy.
You went under the water, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel weightless. Allowing yourself to not feel, think, see, or hear anything.
After your bath— you skipped breakfast and got ready. You had to attend a council meeting, one in which you hoped that Maekar wouldn’t be present.
On your walk to the meeting, you saw Jena.
“I’ve been looking for you!” She smiled.
Your brow raised in surprise. “You have?”
She grabbed your hands and chuckled. “Don’t be silly, of course! We have much to catch up on.”
“That we do.” You replied.
“Will you meet me in my chambers later?”
You nodded.
“I will see you then!” She replied as she walked away.
Jena was a longtime friend of yours and you were glad to still have her, even though the two of you didn’t remain as close. However, you didn’t look forward to chatting with her as you knew it would be about Maekar.
You walked into the council room— everyone was present, including Maekar and Dyanna.
You took your seat at the table, your chair unfortunately beside Maekar’s.
“Let us begin.” Baelor spoke, grabbing the ball
“As you know, we have many things to discuss here today. I will start with the obvious one, the threat beyond the wall.” Your father spoke.
“What is this threat that you speak of, Lord Stark?” Lord Arryn asked.
You picked up your red, marbled ball from its holder on the table.
“We are noticing and being told by the nights watch that the wildlings are gathering, gathering in ways that they normally do not.” You spoke.
“Such as?” Lady Tyrell added.
“Clans that have notoriously hated each other, killed each other, and stayed away from each other have made truces. They have begun working together.”
Dyanna scoffed, causing your eyes to flick to her direction.
“Who cares about some barbaric wildlings and who they get along with?”
You sucked your teeth.
“Tsk—“
“Barbaric they may be, but they are trying to climb the wall again. If they succeed— they will rob, pillage, kill, and rape any person in their way. Children included.” You mentioned.
You could see Baelor shift in his seat as your words caused him a bit of unease.
“What are the odds that they successfully climb over?” Baelor questioned, his fingers toying with his ring.
“I doubt it’s possible, it’s a seven hundred foot wall!” Lord Tyrell mocked.
“They were close last time, far too close. It was only by the grace of the God’s that they didn’t make it over.” Your father pointed out.
“It was no God, it was the men of the nightswatch.” Dyanna assured everyone.
Her tone was riddled with mockery and rudeness, two things that you would not tolerate in your fathers home.
“I assume that you have left your manners back at Summerhall, Princess?.” You spoke, getting the attention of Maekar and Baelor.
Her brows furrowed.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You may beg all you like, my question will not change.” You gritted.
Her mouth parted slightly in shock at your response, your father called your name, and Maekar audibly cackled.
“A word in the hall.” Your father spoke, looking at you.
Both of you stood up from your seats and made your way in to the hall, your father gently shutting the door behind him.
“Have you taken leave of your senses, daughter?—“
“That is the royal family!” He criticized you.
“I care not who they are, I care that she lacks respect. We are talking about something very real and she’s treating us like half-wits!” You reminded him.
Your father paused at your words as he did agree, but you must be better and hold yourself to a higher level than petty snark.
“You will apologize and conduct yourself in a better manner, there is no time for this nonsense.”’ Your father insisted.
“It is not nonsense, father. If they do not take this problem seriously, then we will all be in peril.”
He nodded, his hand rubbing your shoulder.
“That I do understand, but your disrespect can reflect on us poorly.” He noted.
You took a deep breath with a nod and opened the door, walking back into the room. Your father gently shut the door behind him and took his seat.
“I apologize for my remark, Princess.” You spoke as you took your seat.
Maekar could sense your anger when you took your seat, remembering how you had a certain fire that brewed within you.
“Alright, let us pick up where we left off.” Baelor continued.
Maekar leaned close to you.
“Are you okay?” He whispered, his hand touching yours.
You moved your hand away from his, “Daor.” (No)
“Well, can we not stop them from getting over the wall again?” Baelor inquired.
“We do not have the numbers that we once had, nowhere close.” You added.
“I see no reason why we couldn’t supply them with more men.” Lord Arryn pointed out.
Your father took a sip from his goblet, his eyes staring at you.
“The problem is not the men.. it is what is happening to them. Between the Wildlings, there have been several ranger parties that have gone missing. It is a growing trend.”
Baelor sat up in his chair, his curiosity peaked.
“Gone missing how? As in deserted?”
There was a silence that lingered at the table, both you and your father hesitant to mention these things to them. As most other Houses believe the words of the north to be fairytales.
“They are dead.” You spoke plainly.
Maekar looked at you, his brows raised in confusion.
“Dead?”
You nodded, fidgeting with your ball.
“They are dead. Some found in pieces and many not found at all.”
Lord Arryn and Lord Tyrell glanced at each other, also shocked by the information.
“How is that possible?” Lady Tyrell asked.
“White walkers.” You mumbled.
The room felt as if the air had been sucked out of it. No one made a sound or moved.
Dyanna chuckled. “As in what’s told to us in a bed time story?”
“Dyanna.” Baelor spoke, correcting her insulting remark.
Maekar rubbed your arm secretly under the table, as he knew that his wife’s words would anger you. Even though you hated him touching you, you for some reason allowed it to happen.
“They could be the inspiration for your bed time stories, yes.” Your father nodded.
“Why weren’t we informed of these things beforehand?” Baelor inquired, his voice on the cusp of disapproval.
“Would you have truly believed it and listened, or would you have chalked it up to northerners being ridiculous?” Your father commented.
Baelor nodded.
“Ah.”
“Why can’t they just fly their dragons over the wall and burn whatever it is?” Lord Tyrell suggested.
Maekar rolled his eyes.
“Dragons cannot go over the wall. Our ancestors tried it and they refused.”
The meeting did not continue for much longer as there needed to be time in between what was said and to think. There wasn’t a suitable solution to that problem and the other problems weren’t even mentioned.
You got up from your seat and made your way out of the room. You were undeniably angry, at everything but mostly him. If he’d just stayed at Summerhall then you would’ve been fine and he wouldn’t be crossing your mind the way that he does now.
You wouldn’t feel the need to snap at his ignorant wife. You wouldn’t feel the need to want to feel his touch again. You wouldn’t feel the need to dream of what your life would be like, what your kids would be like, and how they looked.
You wouldn’t be hurt and envious.
You felt like a bird in a cage, only you enjoyed the peace in the cage and you didn’t want to be free of it.
Part of you wished that the two of you would’ve gotten on Vermithor and flew away, living your lives together and the way that you wanted to. It was a foolish dream and only just that, a dream.
Maekar watched as you walked away, how your hair framed your face, how the winterfell gowns always looked amazing on you.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Dyanna.
She grabbed his hand as they walked through the halls. “I cannot believe that she would take such a tone with me.”
Maekar grunted, not really a response— because in his mind your response was kinder than it should’ve been.
“Is House Stark notoriously rude?” She asked.
He groaned. “Dyanna, will you just let it go? She apologized and it was handled.”
She wanted to scream at his responses, the family had barely been at winterfell less than a week and all he did was defend you. He had never defended her so fiercely and with such ease, but with you it came to him as naturally as breathing.
When she married Maekar, she was thrilled. She had done her house a great service by marrying the prince, but that wasn’t the only thing that mattered— because she had won him over and they were in love. In love is what she told herself after the wedding, when Maekar seemed withdrawn. Maybe he didn’t get the newlywed excitement that her mother had mentioned to her, but it was okay— because they were in love.
The bedding ceremony between the two of them wasn’t two lovers tangled in the sheets—it was duty, it was cold, it was over as quick as it started, and it consisted of Maekar trying not to moan your name.
It would just take time is what Dyanna told herself and it did take time, he did eventually warm up to her— but it was never the complete love that she was expecting.
They could laugh, smile, have a good sex life— but there was always a gap, something keeping it from being whole.
Although she had once looked forward to visiting Winterfell and experiencing it, she couldn’t wait to leave and never return.
She wanted her husband’s full attention again.
You walked to Jena’s room to see her as you mentioned that you would, knocking lightly.
“Come in.” She called out.
You shut the door behind you as she smiled, watching you take your seat. The room window was opened, the cool air meeting the simmer of heat left in the room. The snow made it bright outside and equally bright in the room, almost too bright.
“I am glad that you came. It’s been far too long, since the two of us have had a moment like this.” She mentioned.
You fidgeted with the rings on your fingers.
“Aye, it has been far too long.”
She offered you a cup of tea, the same way that you like it. She had remembered even all those years later.
“How are you?” She asked.
You took a small sip of your tea. “I am fine, how are you?”
“I am well, things between me and Baelor are good as well.” She mentioned with a slight nod.
“How are the boys?” You followed up.
She took a sip of her tea, adjusting in the seat.
“They are doing well, Valarr is set to get married to Kiera soon and Matarys is heavily interested in books like his father.”
“I’m glad to hear that, tell Valarr that I want to congratulate him.” You smiled.
Jena was your best friend and knew you like the back of her hand, which made small talk pointless— maybe just a courtesy.
She leaned forward, setting her tea down on the table in front of you.
“Enough small talk—“
“Baelor told me that you and Maekar were kissing near the godswood.”
You chuckled as you took another sip of your tea.
“I did not think that such things would be whispered about in bed or otherwise.”
She waved you off as you set your cup of tea down.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, I know you and how you feel about him.”
You started to frown. “How exactly do I feel about him?”
“The two of you were in love, inseparable honestly.” She mentioned.
You scoffed, leaning back in your chair.
“That was many moons ago, I was young and..”
You struggled to find the right words. Young and stupid? Mayhaps, but you did love him and you did think that it was real at the time.
“I was young.” You finished.
“Do you not love him anymore?” She asked.
You stared at her, your face barely readable. “I did not say that—“
“The kiss.. it was a mistake.” You trailed off.
“It was a mistake because you enjoyed it.” Jena playfully teased.
You pulled your shoulders back in slight offense at her remark.
“I did not enjoy it!”
She rolled her eyes, picking at her hands.
“Whatever you say.”
You sat up in your chair, starting to feel distressed and anxious at her words. You grabbed your cup of tea, your hand starting to shake. Whether what she suggested was true did not matter. He was married and a guest in your home, to suggest the underlings of an affair with the prince is a terrible thing.
She glanced down at your shaking hand, how you needed to use your other hand to steady it.
“Are you alright?”
You sipped your tea and put the cup back down.
“I don’t appreciate your ugly accusation.”
Her brows furrowed, “what did I say wrong?”
“That I enjoyed him kissing me.” You replied.
She chuckled as if she didn’t take you seriously, like your words were merely a funny jape. Her reaction had started to upset you more than you expected.
“Why is this humurous?—“
“You got your happy ending with Baelor, two amazing kids. I got my heart fucking broken, that’s what I got!”
“He broke me into tiny little pieces like a vase and I had to try putting it back together, only I didn’t realize that it would never be the same again.” You spoke, tears welling in your eyes.
Jena looked embarrassed at her remarks, guilt taking over her face.
“I didn’t mean.. I didn’t mean—“
“I loved him so much, Jena. You guys will just never know. He destroyed me and it hurt so bad that I wanted to die— receiving news that he got married, welcomed a babe..”
“So, no. I did not enjoy the married man who hurt me, kissing me.” You reiterated, holding back a sob and your shame.
Jena stood up from her chair, her own eyes watering at your words. She knew that it would’ve been devastating, but she never thought about to what extent. It angered her that he could do that to you.
Jena knelt by your chair.
“I did not mean to mock or laugh.. I would never want to hurt you in that manner.”
You wiped your eyes and scoffed.
“I’m fine, it’s not the end of the world. I just got worked up, that's all, my apologies.”
“No need to apologize. I was wrong to insinuate such things.”
You rubbed her arm, reassuring that you were going to be fine and she walked back to her seat.
“I’ve also heard how Dyanna has been acting and I’m sorry for that. She’s being ridiculous.” She admitted.
You shrugged with a sniffle.
“I imagine she’s not a ray of sunshine all of the time anyhow.”
She giggled, taking her seat and picking up her cup of tea.
“She’s different than people imagine, you know?—“
“She’s not inherently cruel or anything of the sorts, but she’s not kind either. There’s a bitterness there..” Jena confessed.
You listened and refrained from giving your own opinion as it didn’t matter.
“Is she a good mother?” You questioned.
Jena stared at you, her cup resting against her lips and her hesitation obvious.
“She’s alright.. I think that she’s always so focused on Maekar that she cannot truly focus on them, not as a mother should at least.”
You and Jena sat there for hours talking and just catching up. It felt good to have a friend that you could talk to openly about your feelings, one who already knew everything and understood.
Whether you set your life to be intentionally secluded, you’re not sure— but you were alone more often than not.
Loneliness meant peace knowing that you’d never be hurt again in that way.
After your conversation, the time had slipped past you and Jena. It was Lady Tyrell’s nameday, so a small gathering was taking place in the dining room for her.
All the guests, the Stark family and bannermen were present to celebrate her. What better way to celebrate someone than with music, wine, and food?
You put on your dark blue velvet gown with long sleeves and a high neckline. Your gown had your house sigil embroidered on the short overlay connected to your gown.
It was rare to wear the dress as there were not many occasions that called for it.
In the dining hall, it was bright and lively— filled with chatter. This time you were seated next to Valarr and Aegon. You had come to realize that Egg as they called him was a joyous boy. He made sure to talk to you and tell you his jokes, a few of them made you laugh.
He even mentioned the song that he had learned, the song that Daeron had taught him. You wished you hadn’t asked what song that he was referring to, because the lyrics made you almost choke on your wine.
“Your mother would not find that song humurous.” You snickered.
He smiled with a slight shrug.
“No, she wouldn’t— but you do.”
You nodded, taking another sip of wine— indulging yourself far too much.
“I do, but I am not your mother.”
Egg twirled his fork on his plate, his head hung low at your words almost like you had suddenly hurt his feelings.
“Father wishes you were.”
Your lips parted at his words, you figured that the wine had betrayed your mind and made you think ludicrous things.
“Pardon?”
Rhae ran up to the table, near you and Egg.
“Egg come on, let’s dance!”
Egg left his chair casing after Rhae, the two of them joining the other people that were dancing.
Maekar watched while eating the few vegetables on his plate. He saw how you smiled with Egg and how Egg couldn’t quit laughing, it warmed his heart. It was very seldom that he’d come close to a smile, but at the sight of that— he almost couldn’t stop.
Dyanna nudged him, bringing his focus back to her.
“Husband, would you like to dance with me?”
Maekar made a gagging noise, repulsed at the idea.
“I wanted to congratulate you on your betrothal!” You spoke to Valarr.
He smiled, glancing at you.
“Thank you—“
“I had not had the proper opportunity to meet you, Lady Stark.”
You set your goblet back down on the table.
“No need for formalities, but it is nice to meet you as well.”
Valarr was quiet during the dinner, not that he didn’t have anything to say— but he just seemed very watchful of his surroundings from what you could tell..
“Are you excited?” You questioned.
His lip curved in a smile, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I am—“
“It’s just I am not looking forward to the feast afterwards.”
You raised your brows in surprise. “Oh?”
He turned in his seat, facing you with a sense of urgency.
“I do not know how to dance and Kiera loves dancing..”
“I have no one to teach me. I’m afraid I will embarrass the both of us.” He blurted.
You covered your mouth in a laugh.
“Here I thought you were going to tell me a big secret. Learning how to dance is not a hard task.”
Valarr’s face reddened like a tomato.
“Can you teach me?—“
“If. If you do not mind of course.”
You took one more sip of your wine for courage and stood up.
“Join me.” You smiled.
You and Valarr made your way down from the table and to everyone else.
“What are they doing?” Dyanna questioned, getting Maekar's attention.
You gave Valarr your hand, your fingers slightly curled together and held out to the side of you. His hand on the small of your back, gentle and guiding with your other hand resting on his shoulder.
With your pace, the two of you somewhat moved in sync— dancing with each other. Dancing for you was effortless, but not as effortless for Valarr.
He stepped on your toes a few times, which made you wince in pain and followed with him profusely apologizing. It didn’t take long for him to get the hang of it, making him seem like a natural.
“It was a silly ask, but thank you for helping me.” Valarr spoke into your ear.
You shook your head, still dancing with him.
“It wasn’t silly. It’s quite alright, I never turn down a moment to dance.”
Shortly after, you ended your dance with Valarr and planned to make your way back to your seat— you felt a tap on your shoulder.
“Will you give me the honor of a dance?” Maekar asked.
Your eyes rapidly scanned the room when he asked. He’d clearly lost his mind to ask you so openly for a dance.
“Maekar..” You stammered.
“Take my hand, so I don’t look like a fool standing here.” He spoke.
You hesitated but took his hand, Dyanna was distracted in conversation and hadn’t noticed.
You and Maekar started to dance, completely in sync with each other like you were years ago.
“You’re stiffer than usual.” He noted.
You rolled your eyes, “I am not.”
The music continued, but the song changed — a slower beat that made you and Maekar feel closer than it should have.
“Why did you ask me to dance?” You questioned.
“I missed dancing with you.” He admitted, spinning you.
His words made your heart flutter, even though they should have disgusted you.
“Dance with your wife.” You replied with a bit of snark.
The two of you dancing captured the eyes of everyone around you and everyone at the table, including Dyanna. They watched as both of you moved so effortlessly amongst people, your eyes locked on each other. If they had not known any better, they would’ve assumed that the two of you were married.
“She does not dance as well as you.” He countered.
“Must you make my life harder?—“
“All you have to do is avoid me until you leave and we’ll never have to see each other again.” You mentioned.
He scoffed, his feet moving with yours.
“I cannot lose you.. not again.”
You stared at him, almost causing yourself to miss a step.
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” He questioned.
“Pretending that Dyanna does not exist and that this is a second chance.” You reiterated.
His face started to redden, his grip becoming tighter.
“I do not wish to talk about her.”
“Why?” You inquired, just short of taunting.
He did not answer, he instead spun you around again. Everyone watched in awe as the fabric of your gown spins outwards.
“Why?” You asked again in a demanding tone.
His face came closer to yours, his violet eyes scanning your face.
“I don’t wish to be reminded of the worst mistake of my life.”
Jena glanced at Baelor, who was displeased with his brother's antics and pursuit of you. Thankfully, King Daeron and Queen Myriah were not present to see it as the king felt unwell.
“His behavior is embarrassing to this family.” Baelor mentioned to Jena.
Jena sipped her wine as she watched the two of you.
“He’s going to crush her again.” She spoke with pity.
Baelor nodded, his lips pursed as he toyed with his rings.
“She does not deserve it.”
Your brows furrowed at Maekar’s confession.
“The worst mistake?”
He nodded as if he was embarrassed by his statement, not because it was true— but it made him a despicable person.
The music continued as the end of the song neared. Your heart thumped in your chest, your eyes welling with tears.
“How dare you come here and dump this in my lap?”
“I cannot help myself with you.. I feel utterly weak and bewitched by you. I love you.”
The music ended and so did your dance, you pulled away from him. People clapped at the two of you, moved by your dancing. You stared at him, tears falling down your cheeks as you stood there.
You fled out of the dining hall, completely overcome with emotions— wanting to get to your chambers.
Maekar followed behind you, putting his foot between the crack of the door as you went to shut it.
You opened it, staring at him.
“Go.” You commanded.
He walked closer to you, “no.”
Your chest rose and fell fast as he closed the gap between the two of you, walking into your room.
You felt so weak and you hated him for it. You wanted him, you wanted to love him— but you couldn’t.
He stood over you, shutting the door behind him.
“Maekar.. we shouldn’t.” You stammered.
His thumb traced your cheek, making your breath still.
“You are breathtaking.” He mumbled.
You closed your eyes, trying to ignore his words— but your body was betraying you.
He rubbed your bottom lip with his thumb, leaning in closer to your face— your breath mingling with his.
“I love you.”
“No, you don’t.” You replied.
“Let me prove it to you.” He suggested.
You tried to step back, but you couldn’t make your feet move away from him— even though it should come naturally.
His lips swiped yours in an act of defiance, an act of betrayal to his wife.
I Don't Want To Loose Sight Of You - Baelor Targaryen
Summary : The Gods are good, the Gods are just. Right?
Warnings : death, grief, violence, pregnancy. Aerion is warning within himself.
Not proof read.
SPOILERS FOR AKOTSK EP 5.
Author's note : This is the first thing I've written in soooo long, so please be kind and I hope you enjoy it. Requests are open! EP5 left me sobbing and I just had to do something about it.
It felt as though the Trial of Seven had lasted a century, your heart was thumping in your chest, eyes trained onto nobody but your beloved, honourable husband. You had begged Baelor not to go through with this, that it wasn't his battle to fight. But Baelor was an honourable man, a trait you had always admired about him. However, it would seem that trait would make him fight to the death for a Hedge Knight. “The Realm needs good men, my love.” you recalled the words he spoke only a few hours prior in your joint guest chambers.
One of your hands rested over your growing stomach, it was as though your unborn babe could feel all the emotions running through your body, each hard kick to your stomach made you feel more nauseous than you already did. Your other hand held onto your eldest son tightly. Valarr didn’t mind, the contact kept him grounded. ”All of this madness because Aerion is a cunt.” You spat.
“Mother, look!” Valarr pointed towards the accused, Ser Dunan the Tall, who was dragging Aerion towards the centre platform. Your eyes went wide with hope as Ser Duncan began shouting at Aerion. “TELL HIM!” You leaned forward in your spot. “TELL HIM!” Ser Duncan shouted once more. Aerion spoke meekly. “I withdraw my accusation.” The horn rang out as the crowd erupted into cheers. You and Valarr jumped from your seats, pulling Valarr into a tight embrace, your eyes began to water.
“Oh my dear boy.” You whispered as he hugged you back tightly.
Pulling away from your first born, your eyes scanned the muddy tourney field, which had turned into a battlefield. Scanning the men for husband, your eyes caught his mismatched eyes which you loved so much, a trait he had passed onto your son. He smiled at you as he swayed a little on his feet, exhausted from the battle no doubt. You pointed towards the wooden doors and he gave a nod. “I’ll be back shortly my sweet, I'm going to meet your father.” You announced to Valarr who gave a nod, understanding his parents would want a few moments to themselves first.
You smiled as you pressed a kiss to Valarr’s cheek before you began to leave the stands, Lords and Ladies letting you pass with a bow of their heads. You didn’t stop to acknowledge them, you couldn’t. You had one mission and that was to see your husband. In your mind you thanked the Gods for saving him, for keeping him here with you. For not taking away the better part of you. Gods, all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and never let go.
You rushed towards the side stable, where you had seen Ser Duncan get taken by two other men. It didn’t take a fool to notice how bad a shape the Hedge Knight was in. As you saw the entrance come into view, your unborn babe gave you a swift kick causing you to stop for a moment to catch your breath. “Gods be good little one, save the kicks for your father to feel.” You breathed out as you stroked your stomach gently. You looked up and saw your husband enter the side stable in your son’s armour, seeing Baelor brought a smile to your face, your heart felt like it was going to burst. Carrying onto the stable with more excitement in every step, you walked through the arched stone doorway and paused at the scene in front of you.
Ser Duncan knelt in front of your husband, pledging his allegiance with each painful breath. “I am your man.” Is all you heard as you made your way over to Baelor. “I need good men, Ser Duncan.” your husband replied as he placed a hand on the Hedge Knights shoulder. “The Realm.’ Baelor began but staggered backwards, cutting off his sentence.
“My Love.” You gasped as you quickly rushed over to him to support him. Baelor looked at you, his eyes taking in each feature of your face. “My darling wife.” Baelor spoke as he tried to lift his hand up to your cheek. “I told you the Gods would not take me today.” Baelor said, his lips turning upwards. You furrowed your eyebrows as you bit your bottom lip. You noticed how pale your husband looked, how he was struggling to stand still. You couldn’t see any injuries but you knew something was amiss.
“Let me send for Maester Yormwell.” You turned around to leave but Baelor took your hand in his own armoured one. “He is seeing to Maekar, we will send for him once he is done.” Baelor said softly before he placed a hand over your stomach. You held your hand over the cool metal of your son’s borrowed armour. “Ser Raymun, my helm, if you would be so kind, I would like to kiss my wife.”
“At once Your Grace.” The younger man limped over to the Crowned Prince and stood behind him to remove the helm. “Visor..Visor’s cracked.” Baelor said to Raymun and his hand fell limp from your stomach. Your eyes shot up to your husband's face, worry written all over you. “My fingers feel..fingers feel like wood.” Baelor said, more so to himself.
“Baelor, You need the Maester.” You stated as you watched him carefully. Your eyes quickly shot to Ser Raymun who looked nervous. “Goodman Pate, A hand.” You moved to go behind Baelor but Baelor spoke causing you to pause in your step. “My Heart, stay where I can see you. I don’t want to lose sight of you. Not even for a minute.” Your hands rested against his shoulders gently. “I’m right here darling, I’m not going anywhere.” You promised.
“The Helm, it’s crushed down the back Your Grace. It’s smashed into the gorget.” The Armourer informed Baelor as he began to try to remove the helm. “My brother’s mace most like.” Baelor turned to Raymun with a grin. “He’s strong.” You rolled your eyes teasingly. “You can sing Maekar praises later, let’s get you fixed up and out from our son’s armour first.” Baelor laughed at your comment and gave a nod. “My wife has spoken.”
With that, the Armourer lifted the helm from your husband's head and Baelor’s eyes went wide. Both Raymun and Pate paled. “What is it?” You demanded as your heard Pate mutter “Gods be good.” Baelor kept his eyes locked onto your face as he stumbled on the spot. “Baelor?” You asked, your throat felt tight. He lifted a hand to the back of his head, and when he brought the hand in front of both your faces, you noticed the amount of blood. Baelor was in shock, you could tell as he slowly turned around to face Pate and Raymun. Giving you time to take in the gaping wound on the back of his head.
“Aegon..bring Maester Yormwell here, right now.” You commanded the younger boy at once as you walked slowly towards your husband, who turned back towards you. “Darl..” Baelor began to speak but fell backwards towards the floor. Ser Duncan fell to the floor to catch Baelor.
A terrifying shriek left your throat as you threw yourself to the ground, tears streaming from your eyes. You clawed your way through the dirt to get to your husband. wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull Baelor so he was resting in your lap. His beautiful, mismatched eyes which had always been so full of love stared at you. Empty, lifeless. “NO!” You screamed once more as your fingers clutched at the armour chest plate. “Baelor, my love. Please, say something.” You begged, your throat feeling as though it would close up at any minute. “Do not leave me here like this. I cannot live without you.” You cried out as you rested your forehead against his.
“My sweet, sweet husband.” You sobbed out. One of your hands stroking at his bearded cheek, whilst the other still held him close to you. Breathing wasn’t coming easy to you through the tears. A scream tore through your whole body, it was the scream of a widower.
The whole of Ashford Meadow heard your cries, and with them the knowledge that Baelor ‘Breakspare’ Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne, had died.
Summary : You find out you're betrothed to your cousin Aerion and you strike a deal with your uncle.
Warnings : Targcest, Uncle x Niece, arranged marriage, age gap, suicidal thoughts.
Not proof read
Author's Note : Thank you for all the love you've shown me on my Baelor one shot, felt like I had to write for Maekar as well, you know..share the love. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and my requests are open!!
It was nearing the hour of the wolf and you were restless. Sleep wasn’t coming easy. The breeze drifting from the sea hit your face gently, eyes closed, basking in the night air. The smell of lavender oil drifting out onto the balcony from within the depths of your chambers. Your mind began thinking back to the meal which had taken place a few hours prior, you hadn’t seen anyone since you walked out of the Great Hall without a word. You had to admit, you thought your father would have made an appearance by now, trying to make you see why marrying you to your cousin Aerion was a wise decision. But alas, he hadn’t bothered to come.
You hated Aerion, it was as simple as that. He was mean, cruel, spoiled. The list was endless. As you ran your hand against the balcony top, curiosity got the better of you. Leaning your body over the balcony, checking how great the distance was between the ground and your floor within the Keep. You might survive if you hit the water. However, it was just your luck that you had rocks directly beneath you.
a rough, demanding voice sounded from behind you. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Your soul left your body as a gasp tore its way up from lungs, hands clutching your heart. Your eyes narrowed at the sight of the man in front of you. Your Uncle Maekar. “Gods be good! Do you always sneak up on people?” You spat and your eyes narrowed towards the elder man. Maekar was not your favourite person right now and one of the last people you desired to see, he was after all the father of your betrothed. It was his fault Aerion even existed.
“I’ll ask you again. What the fuck are you doing?” The older man asked, brow arched as he studied your every move. You scoffed at the audacity, arms crossed over your chest as you arched your own brow at your uncle. “That is none of your concern.”
Maekar scoffed as he walked over to the balcony edge, leaning over himself slightly to look at the ground. “Are you planning on throwing yourself?” He asked casually, before turning his head to look back at you. The ease in which he asked had you grimace slightly. “Of course not, I thought I saw a dolphin in the water.” You lied easily with a roll of your eyes before turning and walking away from the man who was watching you, his gaze filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Maekar scoffed, seeing through your lie instantly. “Killing yourself would be quite the spectacle." You ignored him as you pushed the flowing curtains to the side to walk into the comfort of your chambers. “Being caught alone with your niece in her bedchamber is also quite the spectacle.” You huffed as you poured yourself a cup of wine, straight from vineyards in Dorne.
Bringing the gold cup up to your lips, you leaned against the wooden dresser, feeling the hard surface press against your lower back. Maekar walked in after you, his silver hair glowing in the moon light. A scoff escaped you as you watched your uncle help himself to a cup of wine. “I don’t give a fuck about a spectacle.” He replied with a shrug, drinking the rich, red wine in 3 long gulps.
“Clearly.” You mused, your mismatched eyes watched his every move, the roll of his shoulders as he slumped in one of the chairs resting in front of the roaring fire, the way his finger traced the rim of the empty cup within his grasp. “What do you want?” You ask bluntly, his presence annoying you more and more as each minute passed.
“Can I not come visit my favourite niece after her dramatic exit from supper?” Maekar asked with an arch of his brow, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and you were stupid for even asking. “I won’t marry Aerion.” You stated as you brought the cup up to your lips once more. Maekar chuckled. “This is fucking nonsense.” He replied as he brought his hand up to trace the dragon carved into the chair arm. “I would rather marry Daeron.” You said as you studied Maekar’s reaction.
“You would marry Daeron? He spends more time in inns and brothels, you would never see him.” Maekar stated as a matter of fact, leaning forward in the chair. “Perfect.” You quipped as you finished the last of your wine. “I’d rather have an absent husband than one who would put me in an early grave.” Your voice stood firm as you walked over to the other chair placed in front of the one currently occupied by Maekar.
“Fuck me.” The Targaryen Prince grunted as he placed the empty cup on the table and rested both his arms on the arm rest. “The King wants you wed, you should have been married a long time ago but your mother and father have put it off as long as they can. Daeron is already betrothed, Aegon is too young.” Maekar mumbled as he was giving you the information, it felt as though he was back in the small council meeting he had been sat bored in earlier that morning. “Then I’ll marry someone outside of our house, a Stark maybe.” you replied with furrowed brows. “You deserve better than to be stuck in that northern wasteland.” Maekar replied with a wave of his hand. “And Aerion happens to be that?” You responded with a laugh, the whole situation was absolutely ridiculous in your opinion. “At least the Starks are known for their honour.”
“There is no one else.” Maekar responded with a shrug. You began to play with the rings on your finger, a trait in which you had apparently inherited from your father, Baelor. You sat in silence, your mind trying to find an answer, any other option besides being wed to Aerion. You glanced up at your uncle through your lashes. Looking at him, truly looking at him, a thought came to mind. He had been a widow for a while now, he was handsome, he didn’t fuck whores that you knew off.
“There is one more option.” You spoke with a shrug as you stood up to refill your empty cup, filling your own and walking over to Maekar, you began pouring the ruby red liquid into his empty cup also. “Enlighten me.” Maekar arched his brow as he looked up at you.
“You.” Maekar was speechless for a moment, which you had to admit was one of the first times. “You don’t mean that.” Maekar stated as his eyes met yours. “I am an old man, your uncle.” He felt the need to remind you of the facts. You rolled your eyes at his words. Over your dead body would you be marrying Aerion. “Rhaenyra and Daemon were niece and uncle and you are not old yet.” You shrugged as you brought the Dornish red back to your lips once more, Maekar’s eyes trained on your lips.
“I have six children already.” Maekar reminded you, thinking that you would be deterred. Instead a laugh escaped you. “I am well aware of how many cousins you have given me.” You reminded him, you were determined. “Your father wouldn’t allow it.” Maekar tried once more but you waved him off and sat on the arm of the chair the older man was currently occupying. “He would accept it if I was the one to ask.” You replied and Maekar had to admit, you did have your father wrapped around your finger, probably due to you being his only daughter. Baelor would give you the world if you asked for it. “If marrying you would make me happy then you know he would agree.” You carried on. Maekar sighed as he picked up the cup you had refilled. “And marrying me would make you happy?” He asked as if your whole suggestion was a trick. “Not marrying Aerion would make me happy and if I marry you then I cannot marry him.” Maekar pursed his lips, and shut his eyes for a moment. “I would not be a good husband.” The older man replied once more. “I don’t believe that.” You argued back. “Fuck me.” Maekar grumbled as he used one hand to rub his face.
After a moment of silence, Maekar exhaled, bringing his gaze back up to meet your face. “Is this truly what you want? To marry an old man who has his own share of wounds.” You placed your free hand against Maekar’s beared face and stroked your thumb against his cheek. “This is what I want. Wounds heal over time.” You responded. Maekar found himself leaning slightly into your hand, it had been a while since anyone had held him like this. “I will be a good husband, I will do right by you.” He said quietly, you pulled back a little to look at him clearly.
“You will do it?” You asked, your mismatched eyes wide, you didn’t actually think he would agree to what you were offering you had to admit. Maekar paused for a minute before giving a nod of his head. “If it’s what you truly want then I shall do it.” He responded. You grinned and put your cup down before you threw your arms around his neck. “Thank you.” You whispered against his neck, he did after all just agree to save you from a life of misery with Aerion. You felt his arms wrap around your smaller frame.
After you pulled away, you leaned over to the table and picked up your cup before passing Maekar’s back to him. “A toast. To my soon to be good husband.” You said as you clinked your golden cup against Maekar’s. “Fucking hell, a toast. How official of you.” He teased as he took a large gulp of the wine, you watched him for a moment, knowing you’d be safe with him, you’d be happy and if you were being honest with yourself, you could see yourself loving him.
I Don't Want To Loose Sight Of You - Baelor Targaryen
Summary : The Gods are good, the Gods are just. Right?
Warnings : death, grief, violence, pregnancy. Aerion is warning within himself.
Not proof read.
SPOILERS FOR AKOTSK EP 5.
Author's note : This is the first thing I've written in soooo long, so please be kind and I hope you enjoy it. Requests are open! EP5 left me sobbing and I just had to do something about it.
It felt as though the Trial of Seven had lasted a century, your heart was thumping in your chest, eyes trained onto nobody but your beloved, honourable husband. You had begged Baelor not to go through with this, that it wasn't his battle to fight. But Baelor was an honourable man, a trait you had always admired about him. However, it would seem that trait would make him fight to the death for a Hedge Knight. “The Realm needs good men, my love.” you recalled the words he spoke only a few hours prior in your joint guest chambers.
One of your hands rested over your growing stomach, it was as though your unborn babe could feel all the emotions running through your body, each hard kick to your stomach made you feel more nauseous than you already did. Your other hand held onto your eldest son tightly. Valarr didn’t mind, the contact kept him grounded. ”All of this madness because Aerion is a cunt.” You spat.
“Mother, look!” Valarr pointed towards the accused, Ser Dunan the Tall, who was dragging Aerion towards the centre platform. Your eyes went wide with hope as Ser Duncan began shouting at Aerion. “TELL HIM!” You leaned forward in your spot. “TELL HIM!” Ser Duncan shouted once more. Aerion spoke meekly. “I withdraw my accusation.” The horn rang out as the crowd erupted into cheers. You and Valarr jumped from your seats, pulling Valarr into a tight embrace, your eyes began to water.
“Oh my dear boy.” You whispered as he hugged you back tightly.
Pulling away from your first born, your eyes scanned the muddy tourney field, which had turned into a battlefield. Scanning the men for husband, your eyes caught his mismatched eyes which you loved so much, a trait he had passed onto your son. He smiled at you as he swayed a little on his feet, exhausted from the battle no doubt. You pointed towards the wooden doors and he gave a nod. “I’ll be back shortly my sweet, I'm going to meet your father.” You announced to Valarr who gave a nod, understanding his parents would want a few moments to themselves first.
You smiled as you pressed a kiss to Valarr’s cheek before you began to leave the stands, Lords and Ladies letting you pass with a bow of their heads. You didn’t stop to acknowledge them, you couldn’t. You had one mission and that was to see your husband. In your mind you thanked the Gods for saving him, for keeping him here with you. For not taking away the better part of you. Gods, all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and never let go.
You rushed towards the side stable, where you had seen Ser Duncan get taken by two other men. It didn’t take a fool to notice how bad a shape the Hedge Knight was in. As you saw the entrance come into view, your unborn babe gave you a swift kick causing you to stop for a moment to catch your breath. “Gods be good little one, save the kicks for your father to feel.” You breathed out as you stroked your stomach gently. You looked up and saw your husband enter the side stable in your son’s armour, seeing Baelor brought a smile to your face, your heart felt like it was going to burst. Carrying onto the stable with more excitement in every step, you walked through the arched stone doorway and paused at the scene in front of you.
Ser Duncan knelt in front of your husband, pledging his allegiance with each painful breath. “I am your man.” Is all you heard as you made your way over to Baelor. “I need good men, Ser Duncan.” your husband replied as he placed a hand on the Hedge Knights shoulder. “The Realm.’ Baelor began but staggered backwards, cutting off his sentence.
“My Love.” You gasped as you quickly rushed over to him to support him. Baelor looked at you, his eyes taking in each feature of your face. “My darling wife.” Baelor spoke as he tried to lift his hand up to your cheek. “I told you the Gods would not take me today.” Baelor said, his lips turning upwards. You furrowed your eyebrows as you bit your bottom lip. You noticed how pale your husband looked, how he was struggling to stand still. You couldn’t see any injuries but you knew something was amiss.
“Let me send for Maester Yormwell.” You turned around to leave but Baelor took your hand in his own armoured one. “He is seeing to Maekar, we will send for him once he is done.” Baelor said softly before he placed a hand over your stomach. You held your hand over the cool metal of your son’s borrowed armour. “Ser Raymun, my helm, if you would be so kind, I would like to kiss my wife.”
“At once Your Grace.” The younger man limped over to the Crowned Prince and stood behind him to remove the helm. “Visor..Visor’s cracked.” Baelor said to Raymun and his hand fell limp from your stomach. Your eyes shot up to your husband's face, worry written all over you. “My fingers feel..fingers feel like wood.” Baelor said, more so to himself.
“Baelor, You need the Maester.” You stated as you watched him carefully. Your eyes quickly shot to Ser Raymun who looked nervous. “Goodman Pate, A hand.” You moved to go behind Baelor but Baelor spoke causing you to pause in your step. “My Heart, stay where I can see you. I don’t want to lose sight of you. Not even for a minute.” Your hands rested against his shoulders gently. “I’m right here darling, I’m not going anywhere.” You promised.
“The Helm, it’s crushed down the back Your Grace. It’s smashed into the gorget.” The Armourer informed Baelor as he began to try to remove the helm. “My brother’s mace most like.” Baelor turned to Raymun with a grin. “He’s strong.” You rolled your eyes teasingly. “You can sing Maekar praises later, let’s get you fixed up and out from our son’s armour first.” Baelor laughed at your comment and gave a nod. “My wife has spoken.”
With that, the Armourer lifted the helm from your husband's head and Baelor’s eyes went wide. Both Raymun and Pate paled. “What is it?” You demanded as your heard Pate mutter “Gods be good.” Baelor kept his eyes locked onto your face as he stumbled on the spot. “Baelor?” You asked, your throat felt tight. He lifted a hand to the back of his head, and when he brought the hand in front of both your faces, you noticed the amount of blood. Baelor was in shock, you could tell as he slowly turned around to face Pate and Raymun. Giving you time to take in the gaping wound on the back of his head.
“Aegon..bring Maester Yormwell here, right now.” You commanded the younger boy at once as you walked slowly towards your husband, who turned back towards you. “Darl..” Baelor began to speak but fell backwards towards the floor. Ser Duncan fell to the floor to catch Baelor.
A terrifying shriek left your throat as you threw yourself to the ground, tears streaming from your eyes. You clawed your way through the dirt to get to your husband. wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull Baelor so he was resting in your lap. His beautiful, mismatched eyes which had always been so full of love stared at you. Empty, lifeless. “NO!” You screamed once more as your fingers clutched at the armour chest plate. “Baelor, my love. Please, say something.” You begged, your throat feeling as though it would close up at any minute. “Do not leave me here like this. I cannot live without you.” You cried out as you rested your forehead against his.
“My sweet, sweet husband.” You sobbed out. One of your hands stroking at his bearded cheek, whilst the other still held him close to you. Breathing wasn’t coming easy to you through the tears. A scream tore through your whole body, it was the scream of a widower.
The whole of Ashford Meadow heard your cries, and with them the knowledge that Baelor ‘Breakspare’ Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne, had died.
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