Baekar//Hammeranvil Fic Idea AU:
Ok so let me set the scene :
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Set right after the trial of seven, Baelor has just instructed for the Maesters to tend to his brother Maekar.
He turns to Duncan and gives his speech about the realm needing good men. People crowd around them to listen in rapt attention as he removes his helm (unharmed) and smiles down at ser Duncan gently.
Duncan pledges himself to Baelor with loyalty and the shimmer of admiration in his eyes.
The people around them, knights , squires, lords and servants are in awe of Baelor's presence and demeanor.
This man will one day be their King and ruler of the seven kingdoms, and they know they couldn't be in better hands.
In his short period spent in Asford, he has shown time and time again that he is fit to rule over them, with humility and a kind but firm hand, with a strong sense of justice.
That is, until a maester rushes into the scene, covered in blood, sweating and babbling incoherently.
Baelor turns to him, rests a hand on his shoulder and tries to calm him. He let's the maester gather his thoughts before asking what is wrong.
The maester seems slightly less agitated but worried all the same. He wrings his shaking hands nervously and mutters quick apologies.
It's Prince Maekar. He says
The maester feel the crown prince's hand, once comforting suddenly still. He winces as he feels the hand on his shoulder grip and squeeze with an iron grip.
When he looks up, his his heart drops and blood runs cold.
The man before him no longer wears a gentle soothing smile.
His carefully curated mask has slipped.
In his place stands a man with the eyes of a dragon. Cold and dark mismatched eyes, ready to burn any who should anger him any further.
He asks what the maester means, looking him up and down, he asks whose blood is on his robes.
When the maester takes too long to answer, he feels the hand once placed on his shoulder lift for a moment. In the blink of an eye, Baelor's hand is wrapped tightly around his neck.
He pulls him close, dragging his frail body up until the tip on his toes barely graze the floor. He asks once more. Who's blood is on his robes?
The maester chokes with tears streaming down his cheeks. He manages to scrape out that Prince Maekar had removed his armour and had collapsed. He had been pierced in the side by a longsword.
Just before the maester looses all consciousness, due to the lack of air, Baelor releases him and lets him crumple to the ground.
The poor maester coughs and trembles at his feet. When he looks up, Baelor is looking down at him with something akin to a glare, he tells the maestar to pray for his dear brother's recovery, the threat clear in his voice as he turns and rushes to the castle.
The previously admiring onlookers now watch the prince leave in horror and dismay.
Perhaps they were wrong to place their faith in this man.
Baelor makes his way to Maekar's chambers and enters without warning. He freezes on the spot.
The scene before him makes him feel nauseous.
He watches as the maesters move and work in a frenzy to stop any more blood from leaving the prince's pale body.
Baleor doesn't remember ever seeing his brother look this weak. Not since they were much younger, when he had the pox, and when Baelor would sit outside Maekar's room to keep him company as he regained his strength.
He looks too still and far too small for the bed he lays in. He's pale, so very pale. A stark contrast to the vibrant blood pooling under his body.
Baelor tries to move in, he needs to be close to his brother. He needs to feel him. Feel his heartbeat. Anything to indicate he's alive.
But something stops him. He feels resistance. Hands trying to push him away.
The maesters try to make Baelor leave. He grows furious and tries to shove them aside, tries to reach his valonqar.
A painful wheeze can be heard from Maekar, and all hell breaks loose.
Baelor starts shouting, demands to be let through.
More hands wrap around him.
Guards are trying to pull him out of the room as maesters return to Maekar's side.
Baelor screams and wrenches as he tries to get out of the kingsguards sturdy hold. They haul him out of the room and close the doors.
Once they secure the latches they let the prince go.
He turns to them slowly and tells them to step aside. They refuse.
He threatens to have them removed. How dare they deny a prince, their future king, entry to his brother's room. Their captain steps in and asks him to see to reason.
Prince Maekar needs to be tended to, and Prince Baelor needs to gather himself and turn his attention to the people.
Baelor calms for a moment, looking around he can tell he's not getting into his brother's chambers without a fight. And as much as he would like to cut all these treacherous vermin to the ground he knows the maesters must focus on healing Maekar.
Baelor walks and walks, and then walks some more.
Lost in his own dark thoughts, he does not notice the way everyone around him avert their gazes to the ground. Or how they stumble to get out of his way, fearing the wrath he may impose on them should they cross his path.
He eventually reaches Aerion's chambers. No one is guarding the room. Baelor enters slowly and closes the door behind him.
He walks up slowly, watching his nephew sleeping soundly.
Aerion's face is a mess of bruises and cuts. Baleor can tell from the bandages around his body that he must be in a great deal of pain.
He does not quite seem to care though.
He leans in and watches Aerion sleep for a moment. He looks so peaceful, so content in his slumber.
Baelor reaches out and places his hand on a particularly nasty looking injury.
Aerion wakes with a painful gasp. He looks around blearily and finally focuses in on his uncle.
He tells him to let go. He's hurting him. Baelor looks at him with a cold detached stare and presses down even harder.
Aerion lets out a stifled screech but Baelor stops him from calling for help.
He lifts his hand from the wound and grips his face, squeezing as Aerion winces and tries to pull away.
Baelor leans in and drags Aerion's face to meet him halfway. Aerion trembles as he tries to hold his failing body up.
Baelor tells him that Maekar has been mortaly wounded. That he may not make it through the night. He blames Aerion for Maekar's injury.
If he hadn't demanded a trial of seven, Maekar would be fine. Only Aerion was supposed to get hurt after all.
Aerion, even in pain tries to argue back. Who's longsword pierced his father? He could not control the favour of the fight.
And, was it not Baelor who fought against his own family? Against his nephews? Against his dearest little brother? He spits out.
And for a moment, Baelor wishes his wretched devil spawn of a nephew dead.
He lets go of his face and shoves him back down. He glares at him with hatred seeping from his very soul.
Should anything happen to Maekar, he whispers, Baelor willl not hesitate to end his nephew's life.
He leaves a trembling nephew behind and continues to walk, and walk and walk.
Aerion gasps once his doors are closed and lets a few loose tears fall. He had never been so terrified of anyone in his entire life.
He felt, for a moment, that this is what being in the presence of a wild and unclaimed dragon must've felt like for his ancestors.
He hides under his bedsheets and prays to gods that may or may not not exist, for his father's swift recovery and return to the land of the living.
The days that follow become overwhelmingly somber.
Maekar is stable, but his body needs rest before he can wake.
Baelors demeanor worsens with each passing day that his brother remains asleep.
Servants run past his chambers in a hurry, guards posted around sigh in relief when he is not near.
The lords of the lands try to get through council meetings as quickly as possible to avoid the prince's attention and wrath. Even lord Ashford, who had once welcomed them kindly, tries to avoid the volatile prince.
That is until a serving maid rushes in with a smile on her face. She informs them of Prince Maekar's awakening.
Baelor all but rushes to his brother's chambers. He enters without interruption and stops at the sight before him.
Maekar is leaning against big, fluffy pillows, looking toward the light streaming in through the windows. He turns to look at Baelor as he enters and relaxes a little.
He cracks a small smile and asks if everything is alright. Baelor walks up and sits at the edge of the bed. He reaches out slowly and tucks a stray hair behind his brother's ear gently.
He smiles for the first time in days and envelopes him in a tender embrace. Maekar pulls him in and lets him cry against his neck.
Baelor apologises for all the pain Maekar has been through. Maekar doesn't blame him, simply stroking his hair, and letting his brother air out his troubles.
He asks about his sons, and about what will be done now that all is well. Baelor smiles as he holds him.
He will let Maekar decide on what to do with his children, though he does recommend sending Aerion away, perhaps to the wall. Maekar laughs at the thought and Baelor couldn't be happier.
A maester tries to interrupt their reunion by advising that Baelor should leave so Prince Maekar may rest in peace.
Maekar tells him to fuck off.
Baelor smiles into the crook of his neck and sighs in relief
His Maekar is ok. He pulls him in even closer and simply breathes him in, feeling a strong heartbeat in his ear. He's ok. That is all that matters.
A sense of normalcy returns to Ashford with Maekar's wake.
Baelor has returned to the picture perfect heir to the throne, treating everyone around him with respect and understanding.
People breathe a sigh of relief knowing they no longer have to tip toe around the grounds of Ashford.
Baelor happily walks the grounds with his brother as they make preparations to return to Summerhall for a while.
Lord Ashford is more than happy to send them on their merry way, as soon as possibe, which confuses Maekar a little.
He asks Baelor if there is anything of importance that happened while he was abed. Baelor simply smiles and assures him that all is well.
The people bid the royal family farewell as they ride into the distance. However, a unanimous thought seems to cross every person's mind as they watch them leave.
They pray nothing bad happens to Prince Maekar anytime soon, and that he lives a long and healthy life, so they may live in peace under the future kings reign.
Whoooie that was a long one, so what'dya think? You like?
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