Aerion may look like Caraxes, but Finn looks identical to Syrax 😭💓

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Aerion may look like Caraxes, but Finn looks identical to Syrax 😭💓
𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮- 𝐁𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐭. 3
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐀𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐁𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲), 𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐱 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 (𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲), 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 (𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧) 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬 :))
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞!! 𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭! 𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥:)
The world broke away beneath your feet as you entered.
Baelor’s eyes were immediately upon the two of you, tracking you as you entered the grand hall. You trailed just behind Aerion, who strode slightly ahead of you. He slowed only once when he reached the center of the room, halting his pace to ensure you were in still in tow and he turned to face you. Your steps faltered slightly beneath his attentive gaze.
His eyes were sharp in warning as he extended his arm out to you in offering.
The action was purely for show. Performative. Your mind screamed in refusal though you forced your face to remain unbothered. Hesitating momentarily, just for a heartbeat, you paused before you reached out as well and interlinked your arm in his.
Your body stiffened beneath his touch.
Your compliance however earned a small, pleased smile from Aerion, your family still watching as the of you crossed to the table. They had paused their conversations, and their reactions to your entrance were obvious. The scene was most definitely bizarre to those seated at the table and even your father’s expression slacked, confusion shallowly evident on his features.
Baelor, however, still revealed nothing. He sat collected, his expression and demeanor remaining composed, silently observant as you took your seats. Your eyes met- briefly- and you knew his suspicions were only raised when you winced as your back pressed lightly against the back of the chair, unable to hold back the wince as the sting shot through your body.
Baelor’s eyebrows furrowed as he confirmed his suspicions to himself, eyes narrowing slightly as he further took in the details across you. He knew something had to of happened, something that most definitely involved Aerion. You drew your eyes from your uncle, careful to not allow your eyes to linger too long on him.
Aerion’s grin was content with satisfactory as he glanced sideways at you, seemingly pleased with how you kept your gaze focused elsewhere. Your father’s stare remained on you both, perplexed as he tried to reconcile with the scene in front of him with knowing what he knew.
Your grandfather, the king, was the only one who didn’t find any of this behavior unusual and only tilted his head to the two of you in greeting. “About time the two of you joined us.” His tone wasn’t unkind as he spoke, teasing almost, and you met King Daeron’s soft gaze, nodding your head in return.
“Forgive our tardiness, my sister and I were preoccupied with certain matters that concerned us.” Aerion answered smoothly for the both of you, his response leaving room for question. His reply prompted some of your family members to shift slightly in their seats, uncomfortable by Aerion’s ambiguous words though he only smirked slightly, knowing his comment would embarrass you. Baelor, however, did not react, only continuing to stare at the two of you, or rather Aerion, in a silent and focused gaze.
Your grandfather only waved his hand in dismissal, servants coming forward to begin preparing the table for the royal family. The tension in the air slightly lifted as bottles of rich dornish red were placed, Daeron pouring some into his chalice before the platters were even finished being set. The castle servants worked swiftly, moving around each other with practiced ease before finally finishing in silent efficiency.
“Start eating.” Aerion murmured quietly to you, bringing his own fork to his mouth. “I know you’re hungry.” He drawled, tone almost annoyed. He was right however, you hadn’t eaten at all throughout the entirety of the day and you were starving to say the least.
You clenched your jaw, brushing hair over your shoulder. You didn’t immediately start to eat and still didn’t meet your uncle’s gaze, as you felt him watching you even as he engaged in his own conversations as dinner continued on.
You didn’t respond to your brother, though you did begin eating. You ate mostly quietly, only speaking briefly with Valarr’s wife, Kiera, and made small conversation with Matartys who chattered on about his lessons as he always did with you. You didn’t dare bring your gaze to meet his father’s gaze as dinner carried on, all together refraining from speaking any more than you already were.
Would Aerion really be announcing a betrothal of the two of you, here now? You wondered if he was bluffing, and if he wasn’t, you would not accept it. Glancing sideways, you watched as he took a bite of his food, violet eyes meeting yours and he smiled sweetly, reaching to put his hand on top yours.
His touch was nothing like Baelor’s.
His hand was cold, heavy upon yours. A revolting sensation rolling through you at the feeling of his touch. Your stomach fluttered with unease though you did not move to remove your hand, instead forcing yourself to act as if nothing was wrong, keeping it there pressed against the table top tightly.
His hand remained on top yours throughout the entirety of the evening, never moving from you. Aerion chose not to bring up the betrothal as he once threatened, even not engaging in conversation with you, but instead your father. Your brother paid you no mind at all, though his thumb swiped over the back of your hand, the only indication that he still was aware of you next to him. Your father’s eyes flicked back and forth from your hands to your face though you did not return his gaze.
The evening dragged but finally the gods were merciful and gave you an opening. Shortly after your Grandfather excused himself, Valarr and Keira stood from their seats, exiting. Now, it was appropriate to leave and you wasted no time. Though your stomach was still fluttering and unease lingered over you like the heaviest of cloaks, you pushed yourself to stand.
“If you excuse me, I will be retiring for the evening as well.” You spoke to no one in particular and as normally as you could, retracted your hand from beneath Aerion’s. Folding your hands in front of you, you left without sparing a second glance, moving for the doors before someone could intervene.
The two whitecloaks stationed by the entrance barely had time to open the doors enough for you as you barely steadily rushed out, a shaking exhale leaving your lips as soon as you were alone in the dim hall. You didn’t look behind you to see if anyone followed or paid any attention as you made your way through the keep, your pace full of haste and adrenaline to just get away.
Your back ached as you strode with purposeful steps from the incident just before dinner. Aerion had not tormented with talks of a betrothal, you could not believe it. This was not something to celebrate, as it was only a matter of time now before he would finally announce it.
Publicly, perhaps. In front of the court in some grand way during a ball was heavily in his fashion. You could feel it on the horizon, a looming threat about to emerge and the paranoia in your stomach only grew more and more.
You continued through the castle, not retreating back to your chambers. No, you would go somewhere else. Perhaps the East Wing, where royal guests would reside on their visit to Kings Landing. You knew there were countless barren rooms there. Or even to Aemons vacant chambers, with him away at the Citadel, his rooms would be left unoccupied-
“Princess.”
Your steps slowed and you turned, your eyes meeting the ones of the voice you could recognize even in death. Prince Baelor stood a few feet behind you, his own steps stilling as you turned to face him. His face was his usual calm though you could tell he was concerned, for you no doubt, and you bowed your head, wanting to get away.
“Your Grace.” You lifted your head but focused your gaze on the stone pillar beside you. “I apologize but this is not a good time, if you would please excuse me-”
“Your behavior at dinner did not go unnoticed, princess. Something has happened.” His tone was not accusing as he stepped closer to you, drawing close. “You are distressed, more so than I’ve seen you before. This morning you…”
You recalled that morning earlier in the gardens. How you told him you would look forward to seeing him again. That shared moment neither of you could deny.
“I am worried.” Baelor stated softly.
He had to leave. Not a moment longer would he be able to stay and If Aerion saw you here, with him..
“You know why I’ve been acting this way. Now if you’d excuse me, Your Grace, I have matters that demand my attention.” You turned to leave but Baelor reached, taking your hand gently before he could stop himself. You halted, closing your eyes as you were unable to face him.
You did not wish to pull away, fought against every instinct to embrace him and confide in him completely. Instead, you stayed still, still not meeting his gaze.
“Something has happened.” He stated again firmly, his other hand reaching to grab your other and you allowed him. “My beloved, look at me.” He urged softly and you did, turning to finally face him, afraid your expression would give away everything.
You were vulnerable with being alone with just him, you would not be able to keep any of this submerged that much longer. Baelor did not have to read your expression, as his suspicions were already confirmed.
“He has harmed you, hasn’t he.” He said softly but there was an undeniable edge to his tone. Your gaze wavered slightly, further confirming his thoughts though you did not respond. The Prince’s mismatched eyes flicked down, as if he could see behind you and beneath your dress to the purple bruise forming on your back before continuing.
“When you first entered, I knew something was not right. You were late, and your manner was odd. Stiff. And when you sat, you winced almost immediately, as if you had been...” He trailed, jaw clenching as he focused entirely on your face. You could not read your Uncle’s expression, nor could not tell what he was thinking.
“What has he done?” He asked finally, his voice steady but quieter than usual. He squeezed your hands that he still held in his own, a pleading action. You closed your eyes again, keeping them closed only for a few moments as he waited for you patiently, knowing you were weighing your next step.
Opening your eyes, you made your decision. It was now or never and you pulled your hands away but still kept your gaze on your Uncle’s.
“Follow me.” You said softly and immediately began walking and he listened, stepping in pace at your side. You avoided major halls, careful and wary of who could be watching. Taking a longer route, you made your way to the East Wing of the keep, reaching two heavy doors of chambers you knew to be unoccupied.
Wasting no time, the two of you slipped inside and you closed the door, hoping no one had seen you come here as there were no guards postponed outside to keep anyone out. Your uncle didn’t ask why you brought him here, he knew well enough that there was a purpose that he did not understand yet. Baelor stood still as he watched you pace to the middle of the room, your fingers picking at the others as you faced your Uncle.
“I’m going to show you something.” You started, your hands going to reach behind you to unlace your dress but you cursed softly, your back stinging as the movement induced a sharp sting from your back. “You must trust me.” You grit out, slightly wincing again.
“Do you need assistance?” He carefully asked, not daring to take a step forward without your approval but you nodded over your shoulder, swallowing.
“It is not pretty, I can imagine.” You admitted and turned, moving your hair from your shoulder and Baelor stepped forward. His large hands went to the laces of your dress, carefully untying as he kept his touch decent as he undid the crimson laces.
When the strings were finally loose, he stepped back, not going any further. You turned a quiet thanks to him before you lifted your hands, going to pull your dress from your shoulders to reveal your back.
Baelor could not conceal his surprise, a sound of surprise leaving his lips as he took in your back bare to him.
The bruise was large in size, sprawling across the middle of your back and up. A sickly, violet color had indeed bloomed and had swollen your skin. You did not turn for a few moments but eventually looked over your shoulder, holding your dress up.
Baelor stood unnaturally still, his mouth parted slightly. His eyes, his beautiful mismatched eyes, were raging with so much emotion, it hurt seeing him like this, let alone you being the cause for this.
You turned, facing him completely and his eyes finally met yours. It took you aback as his eyes settled on your face, you had never seen your Uncle like this.
This was still your Baelor, the same calm and honorable man you’ve looked up to and admired your whole life, but this was different. This was the look of Baelor Breakspear, the hammer who defeated armies and did all that he did to protect the realm he defended with the entirety of his being.
“It looks worse than it feels.” You attempted to downplay it, but your uncle only focused that stern attention on you, still not speaking. His jaw was clenched now and he moved to where you stood as you spoke, eyes dragging from your face to your back as he went to get a closer look.
He did not touch you, though he bent down, taking in the details of the violet that maimed your skin. You let him examine you, allowing him to asses further and you were fully aware of the prince’s stare that quite literally burned into your back.
“He did this. Aerion.” He finally said, his voice stern, cold and so unlike the Baelor you are used to hearing. You made to speak, to deny but it was no use.
“He did.” You only confirmed and Baelor hummed once before he moved his hands back to the laces, carefully re-lacing the strings. He was silent as he worked, fingers so delicate as he meticulously dressed you , shielding the bruise back beneath your gown. Despite the situation, you still found yourself relaxed and at ease as he did this, your shoulders slightly relaxing in tension.
When Baelor finished, he pulled away, and you could feel the barely restrained anger he kept at bay. The calculation of what to do with this information, this act of violence that was just confirmed to the crown prince. The air remained tight as Baelor stepped in front of you, eyes on your face as if he was trying to comprehend what it was like for you, to imagine what it was like living through the violence Aerion exerted onto you. His eyes searched your face.
After a long while he spoke, eyes never leaving you face. “You do not have to continue, I will never push you to speak of things that you wish not to. But this..” He could not think of words to say, his mind racing and he shook his head, at a loss. “..I cannot ignore this, my heart.” His throat bobbed with words he did not yet speak and his hand shook slightly as he took yours.
Baelor’s composure was always controlled. Collected and utterly unbothered. But now, he was breaking apart, vulnerable with the woman he cared for above any realm or anything else. His heart was breaking for the woman he loved who he had failed to protect, even if you were not yet his.
“I must do something. I cannot let this go unnoticed, your brother will be punished for this, I swear this to you.” Baelor spoke lowly, his other hand going over yours he held in his other hand.
The last time a man struck the royal blood, it was decreed he should lose the offending hand. For this, Baelor would have more than just Aerion’s hand. Rage surged through his body as his mind screamed to march out and find your brother, to deliver justice himself but Baelor remained collected.
You bit the inside of your cheek, not saying anything for a moment. “He was furious because of earlier.”
“What?” Baelor asked, blinking as his mind processed what you just said, looking down at you with curious confusion.
You bit down on your dry bottom lip, hesitant to go on but Baelor waited patiently and you chose to continue. “He had seen us in the gardens. Had told me he noticed…things between us.” Not meeting his gaze, you turned your head unable to look at Baelor as you went on.
“He accused me of countless things regarding you and I, kepũs. How I look at you in certain ways, accusing you of the same.” Baelor said nothing as you then went on to reveal everything your brother accused of you, still holding your hand throughout it all and his face revealed nothing as he listened. You told him of how and what Aerion suspected, the allegations he seethed to you, careful not to reveal that your brother was indeed right, that you were indeed falling in love with Baelor.
Baelor continued to listen, patient as he waited for you to finish as you told him further of how Aerion snuck in your chambers again, waiting for you. Of how he promised he would do everything to keep you from Baelor and how he had slammed you into the stone walls in a hidden corner in Maegor’s Holdfast, the cause of the purple spreading across your back. Baelor’s thumb swiped over the back of your hand as he listened attentively.
You shakily exhaled, finally finishing. Your heart beat fast as you had revealed everything finally to your Uncle. A part of you was fearful that Baelor would not believe you, that he would choose to not believe that such acts were possible from a Prince of the realm and dismiss you entirely.
Never, would that even cross his mind.
“My darling girl..” He started after making sure you were finished, saying your name before he went on. He squeezed your hand as he spoke. “It pains me to know that you have had to suffer at the hands of your brother this long, that you have felt the need to suffer in silence from the fear of going to someone from what he would to you. Of going to me.”
Baelor reached, his palm gently going to your cheek and he turned your face to his. Tears were in your eyes, threatening to fall as was the same for Baelor. His thumb swiped gently across your cheek as one managed to escape your eye.
“You are so unbelievably strong,” He went on, eyes focused entirely on yours. “I have never met someone with more resilience in the seven kingdoms than you, my heart. Your strength is admirable.” He spoke genuine and you let out a small choked sound, thankful and relief that someone else knew, that you were finally not alone in this. His thumb swiped across your cheek again.
And when you moved forward, Baelor didn’t hesitate to circle his arms around you, holding you to his chest. He kept an arm wrapped around you and his other hand to the back of your hair, holding you close to him. He dipped his head down, closing his eyes as he pressed a kiss to the top of your hair. A tear wetting your scalp as he closed his eyes.
“I am sorry, that our family has failed to protect you. I am sorry that you have suffered and burdened this alone.” Baelor went on, his voice fractured slightly as he did his best to keep himself collected as best he could. “But I can swear this to you now, that I will never allow him to harm you again. That you will never be treated with such cruelty or disrespect and that I swear to you,” He pulled back, both hands going to your hair as he stared down at you, eyes bright. “that I will always be beside you, that you will never have to go through such darkness alone. And that Aerion will be punished and tried for this, that you will get the justice you deserve.”
He continued swiping away your tears and for the first time in a long time, you felt genuine and true relief in your chest. Hope. You let out sobs and broken ‘thank you’s as Baelor spoke the promises and vows to you, pulling you back into his chest, as he caressed the back of your head, murmuring quiet comforting words against your hair.
“Never again.” He promised softly. “I am here, my beloved, I am here. I will never abandon your side.” More soft spoken promises spoken against your head. “You are safe with me, always.”
You nodded against his chest, holding him tightly as if you were afraid he would disappear. His form was sturdy, unmoving and entirely real. He would not leave you. You stayed like that a long while and you could not say how much time had passed when Baelor finally withdrew away, yet he still held your hands in his.
“I will escort you back to your rooms personally and I will have my most trusted guards postponed outside your doors. There is Ser Donnel and Ser Roland and few others who are-”
He stopped as you shook your head, watching you swallow. “No, no I..I think if I were to return to my chambers, it would be unwise. With Aerion..he has his ways.”
“My sweet girl, if you asked me to, I would stand outside your chambers myself if it was what you wished.” Baelor only responded gently. Truthfully too.
You shook your head again, managing a small smile but it faded as quick as it came. “I think I will stay here tonight.” You nodded in gesture to the rooms you stood in. “He wouldn’t think to look for me here, I doubt he’d find me, or a servant or guard that he would send for me.”
Baelor nodded slightly in agreement, giving your hand a light squeeze. “If that is what you wish, I do not disagree.” His eyes flicked to yours as he tipped his head. “Do you require anything else, my dearest?”
“Stay.” The words escaped your mouth before you could think about what you were truly saying. His eyes didn’t waver, still focused intently on you as he watched you blurt the single word out.
Your mouth went dry as you swallowed. You’ve made a mistake. “If-”
“I will stay. I told you,” Baelor offered you a small smile, eyes crinkling slightly. “I would not leave your side. I will stay with you here tonight.”
You nodded slowly, relief flowing at his words and you swallowed again, bowing your head once in thanks. “Thank you, Baelor. That is very kind of you.”
“Do not thank me, my beloved. There is no need.” His eyes lingered on you for a moment before he moved to a door alongside one of the walls, to a connected room. He glanced once more to you. “Do not hesitate to come for me if need be.”
You smiled softly and nodded though you could not help but feel a sense of disappointment as he went to the door. “I’ll make sure to. Goodnight, kepũs.”
He smiled softly. “Sȳz bantis, ñuha prūmia.” He replied in High Valyrian, before retreating to the connected room and shutting the door, leaving you alone in your own company. Sȳz bantis, ñuha prūmia- Goodnight, my heart.
You stood alone for a moment, eyes lingering on the door before you exhaled softly. Of course he would take the neighboring room. You wished he would change his mind, to stay with you in here but you knew that was not appropriate. You bit down on your lip again once more before you turned, moving to get undressed and prepared for bed by yourself.
You managed quite fine without the help of your ladies, changing into a simple nightgown that you found in a wardrobe. It was easy enough to change into, most comfortable as well. Sitting down at a vanity, you opened the drawer to find a brush and began brushing your hair.
Looking into the mirror, your eyes slid to the connecting door against the wall, to the room where Baelor currently resided. Stay. You had requested and he had listened. Though you should’ve known he would not stay with you in here. You brushed your hair, watching the door and you fought back the urge to cross to the wall and find an excuse to speak to the prince longer.
You chose against it however, and set your brush down, crossing over instead to the opposite side of the room to where the canopy bed was. You climbed into the sheets and fluffed your pillow, laying your head against it before sliding beneath the covers.
You were exhausted, physically and mentally, but you were unable to get your mind to rest. Baelor, Aerion, the betrothal and countless other things from the past days surged through your mind as you did your best to close your eyes and sleep, though it was of no use.
You laid awake for a long time, an hour or two already passing as you tossed and turned in the grand bed. Sleep still did not come to you easy, and now, just before the hour of the wolf, you made your choice to stand and go to your uncle.
You wondered if this was going too far, if you were making the wrong choice.
Perhaps this was an impulsive decision made from your lack of sleep, most definitely lacking poor judgment as to what you were about to do.
You kept moving to the door all the same, crossing to the door with only a few strides and you hesitated once as you brought your fist to the door.
Just go back to bed. Force yourself to find sleep.
You bit down on your lip, considering what to do. No, you would not go to bed, you decided. You rapped your fist against the door, lightly. You waited for a couple moments, regret seeping into your chest the more the seconds ticked by.
It was almost the hour of the wolf, you knew Baelor was more often than not up this late while he dealt with the matters of the realm. But maybe he was indeed asleep. You turned, about to go back to your bed as if this never happened, when the door opened.
You turned back, Baelor stood just beyond the threshold. His shirt was slightly opened, unbuttoned revealing some dark hair beneath and his short hair was tousled slightly. Perhaps you did wake him.
You felt slight guilt at the sight of him. “Forgive me, I thought you might’ve been awake.”
“There is nothing to forgive, I have been awake.” He opened the door more, moving to the side slightly in beckon to allow you inside.
You slipped inside to the quiet of his chambers, the door shutting behind you with a soft click. You were slightly unsure now, feeling as if you crossed the point of no return and you halted your steps, turning to face Baelor.
Concern entered his tired eyes now, seeing the wariness evident on your face. He lowered his hand from the door. “Has something happened?”
You shook your head, your words now catching somewhere in between the middle of your chest and throat, and you hesitated momentarily before answering.
“No, no nothing has happened.” You exhaled sharply and Baelor’s brows furrowed, concern deepening his features as he drew closer to you cautiously.
“My dear, you are pale.” He murmured, eyes flicking over your face. “What is the matter that has made you come here?” His tone was gentle, wishing to understand.
Your hands fumbled in front of you slightly but you did your best to steady yourself and you did, clasping your hands in front as you met Baelor’s concerned stare. You would not back down from this now.
“I should not of come here.” You finally admitted, Baelor only shaking his head slightly, taking a step closer. “Nonsense, my heart, you are always welcome-”
“But if I had not, I would’ve never been able to do this.” You continued, facing him fully now, your composure already beginning to fracture under the weight of what you had carried for far too long. Baelor’s eyes searched yours, attempting to find the answer to your uneasiness in your face himself, shaking his head slightly as he could not understand.
Your hands tightened together, knuckles paling. “I have tried to be reasonable,” you began, your voice unsteady despite your efforts. “Tried to remember what is expected of me… of you. I used to tell myself that whatever this is, it is foolish. Temporary.”
Baelor said nothing, though you saw on his face that he recognized what was happening. He let you go on, his body still as he stood just a few steps away.
You continued, pushing yourself to finish, a shaky breath leaving you. “It is true, what Aerion accuses. I think of you far more than often than I should,” you confessed at long last. “In moments where I ought to be occupied with anything else… my mind drifts to you. When I hear your voice, it settles something in me I did not realize was unsettled. And when you are near..” You faltered, breath catching. “I forget what is expected of me entirely.”
You were unable to look at him as you went on, confirming and confessing what you have held in for so long. You felt like a child, though you were a woman grown. “I understand if you think this foolish but-” You swallowed. “But correct me if I am wrong when I say that I have felt the same from you as well.”
Your eyes locked on his as you lifted your gaze. Your heart was thundering, and by the looks of it, his too as his own chest was rising and falling faster than usual.
This was a mistake. The words echoed again distantly in your mind but you pushed it down, still going. “Do you deny it?” You asked finally, your voice quiet but steady all the same.
You recalled earlier when had admitted to you in the gardens earlier, that ‘you were dearer to him than he allowed himself to say’. Your hands clenched at your sides once, anticipation rocking through your body as you waited for him to respond.
Baelor’s stare was fixated on you, unmoving. His jaw was clenched for a second but loosened, as if he was finding the words to speak himself. He had not taken his eyes of you only listening as you at last confessed what he too had felt for far too long.
He at last lifted his chin slightly, sucking in a breath before he began to speak.
“You are not mistaken.” Baelor admitted finally, mismatched eyes boring into yours, confirming what you half suspected of him. “I too, have felt this way of you, for almost..” He was struggling to find his words. “..for almost two years.” He said quietly, eyes never leaving yours.
He took a step forward towards you. You did not move from where you stood, only watching as he drew near. “You ask me if I deny it? No, no I do not.” He heaved a breath. “I tried at first, in the beginning but..” He took another step closer. “It was never easy. It is never easy when anything involves you.” Your name was soft as it left his mouth and his tone held no blame, only aching honesty.
Your breath caught in your throat, hearing Baelor speak this to you. He went on. “My loyalty has always ever lied with my crown, with the realm. I’ve learned that duty and desire were both very personal to me, and yet was taught that the two be always kept separated.” A pause as he reached out, gently taking your hand in his.
He never had felt this way when he was married to Jena. No, Jena was an organized marriage, and yes he grew to enjoy her company but he had never felt this deeply and strongly about her. He had done what was expected of him, was always honorable to her as her husband and never dishonored her while she lived but now here with you…
“But I have also learned, that may not always have to be true.” He lifted your hand that was still held in his grasp and guided upwards and laid it against his chest, hovering just above where his heart beat beneath.
Pale violet and dark brown eyes fixated on you intensely. “I call you ‘my heart’ because it is true. You, my darling girl, are the center of my world.” Baelor pressed your hand gently firmer against his chest. “You, who I have beloved for so long, you who I care about so deeply and fiercely that it terrifies me.” He admitted breathlessly. “You are who I cherish and adore more than anything.”
“My heart beats for you.” The word were slow and deliberate as he spoke them and you reached out your other hand, lightly resting it against Baelor’s cheek. His beard was coarse and rough beneath your soft hand, but his skin was hot to the touch.
“Baelor..” You said his name softly and he looked down to where he still kept your hand against his chest.
“It terrified me when Aerion first brought up the topic of your marriage.” He said quietly. “Something happened then, it shifted like never before, the fear of losing you to him, it…” He opened his mouth, not being able to find the right words he was trying to think. “It shook through me. I think I realized in that moment about how real this all was. And when I held you in my arms that night in the tower and then earlier in the gardens, my heart I…”
He paused, still holding you steady against him.
“I think I finally realized that I was irrevocably in love with you.” Baelor finally admitted.
There it was. The unspoken words that both you and Baelor submerged for so long, finally lifted to the surface and truth laid bare to each other. Baelor breathed heavily, finally dragging his gaze from your hands to your face and you felt warm. Really warm.
Baelor Targaryen, The Crown Prince of Westeros and The Hand of The King, had admitted to you his own love for you. He stood before you, steady but vulnerable than ever before.
“I love you too, Baelor. I have for…for longer than I think I’ve allowed myself to admit.” You responded after he finished. His eyes never let your face and emotion passed over his own as you spoke true. Your eyes passed over his face, and you stepped close, closing the distance between you.
Your hand still against his chest, he lowered his own, hooking his arm around your waist to hold you to him. His touch was careful, very much aware of the bruise on your back. Your breath mixed as the two of you were only inches apart and Baelor’s eyes were bright as he held you.
Your heart was beating fast but he held you steady. “May I?” He asked, eyes flicking at your lips and back to your eyes, waiting patiently for your answer. You nodded instantly and a small smile passed over his lips before they met yours.
His lips met yours gently and patiently, and you instantly melted into him. Baelor held you to him firmly, your lips moving together in a slow and languid manner. He was entirely considerate and attentive to you, a small sound releasing from your lips as he continued.
You needed more of him. His touch was strong and sure as you moved your hand from his chest, sliding your hand over the hard muscle of his shoulder and around his neck, never pulling away. He groaned slightly into your mouth, your kiss deepening and it only fueled you more, desperate to have him as you were drinking this moment in.
He pulled back slightly, his hand cradling your cheek as he panted slightly, eyes hazed over with his want for you but he restrained himself, keeping himself in check. “Wait.” He let out breathlessly, eyes searching yours. “I want this, I do, but are you sure?” Baelor was barely restraining his own desire, but he managed to conceal it.
“I do, I’m fine, please continue.” You made out and he nodded, brushing hair from your face as he smiled softly at your reassurance and his lips met yours again, his collected composure slowly beginning to fracture away.
You opened your mouth to him and groaned softly, your body becoming insanely warm. He let out a soft, satisfied sound, deepening your kiss and he murmured against your mouth between kisses.
“I knew in that moment those nights ago that it would always be you. That it has been always you.” He breathed against your lips before he brought his lips back against yours. “I adore you, my sweet girl.” He breathed again, moving to press a soft kiss against your neck. He wanted to push you up against the wall, to have you beneath him so he could cherish you in all the ways he could, but the bruise maiming your back made things difficult. Your brother’s doing.
Oh how he loathed Aerion now.
He could not help it, the septons taught him and his siblings that you must love your brothers and sisters, to forgive one another and keep only love in your heart. But now, Baelor felt nothing but a rising hatred against his nephew, something he had not felt much in his many years of living.
The thought of his nephew caused a shift in Baelor and you sensed it instantly, eyes opening. You pulled away slightly for air and to give him a curious look.
“Baelor? What is it?” You asked softly and he only shook his head slightly, rage being an understatement as to what he was feeling.
This ran deeper than rage, this was a fury that would not be able to be contained. The fury only a Targaryen prince could hold and he would unleash this burning wrath on his kin, onto the one who dared call himself a dragon.
Aerion thought himself to be Caraxes reborn, and if he did think himself to be Caraxes, Baelor was Balerion.
Never would he allow you to be given to him, this already being a well known fact. If he could not convince your father to stop such a match from happening, then perhaps he could propose another.
“Baelor.” You said again, bringing your hand to his cheek and he turned his face to look at you, his eyes distant now but still lit with that brightness that shone for you. “What are you thinking about?”
Baelor’s jaw ticked. “I’ve told you, I would never never let you be sworn to him, not while I draw breath.” Aerion. You nodded at his words, this must of been about your father then. He most likely spoke to him again and it was most likely to of no avail. “I take it you spoke to my father again?” You asked him, not wanting to know his answer.
He shook his head. “No, but I have thought of a proposition of my own. Something that would be higher than Aerion’s claim.” His eyes flicked to yours and you read his expression, quickly understanding what Baelor meant.
“Do you mean..” You started and he nodded, inhaling as he took your hand gently.
“It would make sense, and would be a suitable match, an alliance within our house.” He looked down at you for any signs of hesitance yet he found none.
The last marriage that was a match similar to this was your great-great-great grandmother, Queen Rhaenyra and her Uncle, Prince Daemon. A strong and powerful match eighty years ago that sustained your house’s power by their bloodline to you now.
“If I were to ask your hand before Aerion does, none would dare to object such a match.” He squeezed your hand and reached, putting his thumb beneath your chin to make you look at him.
“However it is only a proposition, and entirely your choice. I will never put you in a situation as to where you would be pressured to make a decision.” He restated, giving your hand a light squeeze again. “If not, I will continue to argue the matter to my brother, to our father. I will not yield until they see-”
“Yes.” You breathed and his eyebrows raised, a breath of air leaving his mouth.
“My heart, you don’t have to come to a decision this hastily. It was only a thought, sit and think upon it as long as you must, we-”
But Baelor was right, it did make sense. How the thought did not cross your mind already, you did not know. It had, of course, but was not something you could imagine in reality.
You looked up at him again, determined as you pushed on. “Then ask for me.” You said plainly and unfaltering, the lingering heat disappearing from you replaced by determination and hope again.
“I do not want you to think of this as a last resort, I want you to be happy, my heart.” You shook your head, pushing his words away, continuing.
“It would not be a sacrifice of me binding myself to you, Baelor. I would choose you in a heartbeat, I do choose you already. Do you not see that now?”
Your words settled between the two of you, his eyes searching yours for certainty. He still cupped your cheek, his body still before he released a breath, bringing his forehead against yours.
“My heart, you do not understand what you give me.” He said softly, stroking your cheek and you returned his words with a smile.
“I do. And I give you myself freely, with no fear.”
At your words, he smiled as well, a real, genuine smile and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Oh skorkydoso nyke adore ao, ñuha prūmia.” Baelor spoke quietly in reverence against your skin. Oh skorkydoso nyke adore ao, ñuha prūmia: Oh how I adore you, my heart.
He then bent down, catching your lips again in his. You kissed him slowly, content as you were held in the arms of the man you loved more than anything. His kiss spoke things he could not put into words, and you understood every bit he gave you, saying all what you couldn’t as well as you clung to him.
And in that moment, as Baelor held you delicately in his arms as if you were the most treasured gem in the Seven Kingdoms, you were almost certain that everything would be okay. Aerion would fight this, no doubt, but it would be futile.
Baelor would never allow you to be harmed again and The Gods would have to strike him down before you would be taken from him now.
And as Baelor held you beneath him, he already planned on how he would propose the match to his father in the morning, audience or not. You would be his, safe and loved and protected as you deserved, and he would be damned if it was otherwise.
He silently swore this to the Faith of The Seven and The Gods of Old Valyria as he panted against your lips, watching how your hands trailed over his bare chest, feeling him beneath your hands.
For every beat his heart beat, his chest thundered with the immense love he held for you, and you felt it.
Baelor Targaryen would be your husband, and you his wife.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐚𝐡𝐡𝐡𝐡 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬!! 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠/𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 4 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠!!
@baelluvr
Give him a break, he's doing his best
So we gonna call it akotnk now?
pls pls pls do my poll and help me decide : C
so. the whole idea is that I created a world where Aemond marries a northern lady (from House Karstark), and it was a flopmarriagie. I mean, failhusband maxxing from Aemond's side. So the north houses were not happy to send their daughters to the south, but the Targs needed alliances, and the north could not refuse every match. and the last flopmarriagie would be during akotsk(ish) era and forward. This time from oc northern house. And I am debating between Baelor and Daeron, leaning into daeron bc he would not have dreams about what is going to happen to his wife. + The lady is hopelessly in love with Dunk. And after that marriage ends up horribly wrong, it became a cautionary tale to not marry northern ladies to targ princes/southern prince or lords. So imagine how ned was stressed when Bobby B proposed an engagement between his blond evil son and Sansa.
Which prince gives more interesting angst flavour and can doom the northern lady named Ophelia?
daddy baelor
fae daeron with sad eyes
none of them, choose someone else
THE SECOND QUESTION is about the second marriage (that also goes bad) between the dance and the Ashford tourney. Which Targ prince could be a good match to achieve a more sad than horrifying end for the northern lady? I thought of making her a Bolton or a Manderly. So please, help me decide!!!
con: having it so that maekar doesnt allow egg to go with dunk kinda sucks for his character considering both the addition of the attempted murder & he allowed it in the book and even sent him off with a ring of the house so if egg actually gets into real trouble he’ll be safer
pro: maekar targaryen in season two for real
i need to figure out a way to move to wherever hbo is sourcing their asoiaf actors bc jfc american men aint SHIT
I just searched up A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms on Google and look what happened:
"Ser, did you mean: a knight of the nine kingdoms"
LMAO. This is brilliant. I love it. I also thought it was brilliant when A Knight of the Nine Kingdoms title appeared at the end of the season 1 finale of AKOTSK.
This is awesome.