“i need a hero”
ser duncan x f!reader
summary: you bring your newly wedded husband back to far far away, but your father, the king, does not approve.
warnings: no use of y/n, very silly, crackfic, yes this is set in far far away from shrek, prince charming!aerion, fairy godmother!maekar, somewhat angsty, ooc baelor and maekar lol, yearning, nsfw, smut, oral f!receiving, p in v, 18+ MINORS DNI.
wc: 11k
y2k medieval aesthetic has taken over my brain. here’s a duncan fic inspired by shrek 2 lol!! if u guys like this i’ll write one for the first movie
(divider by @uzmacchiato)
“Are we there yet?” Egg squawked from the back of your carriage for the umpteenth time.
Dunk rolled his eyes. “No, not yet.”
Egg slumped onto his elbows, looking around the carriage for something to do. He leaned forward, pushing his head in between you and Dunk, and made a popping sound with his mouth.
You glanced at Dunk, noting his irritation before taking his hand in yours. He smiled at you briefly before Egg made another popping noise, and Dunk uttered a frustrated sigh. “Would you stop it with that?”
“This is so boring. When are we getting there?” Egg clicked his tongue again.
“It’s the Kingdom of Far Far Away, Egg. It’s implied that it’s far away,” you explained, running your thumb over Dunk’s knuckles in an effort to soothe his agitation. When you came back from your honeymoon, Egg had unexpectedly been in your house. How he got there in the first place, you weren’t really sure, though he claimed he had been housesitting.
Egg now resorted to tumbling inside the carriage and poking at Dunk’s cheek. Dunk gave one final exasperated sigh before shouting, “Are we there yet?”
“Yes!” you exclaimed, pointing out the window. Your carriage rumbled over the cobblestone streets of Far Far Away. Egg climbed on top of Dunk’s lap to stare outside, much to his dismay.
You were unsure why Egg needed a vantage point, as he had been raised here. You, on the other hand, had not been to your kingdom since you were barely thirteen, the result of being locked away in a tower most of your life.
When you were a babe, you were cursed to become dragonlike at sunset. Your skin bore grey scales, your hair went completely white, your eyes slitted and blood red, and a tail would sprout beneath your dress.
Once you were a teenager, your parents sent you away to the highest room in the tallest tower with no one to keep you company but a wild dragon. Let it be known that dragons don't make the greatest friends, even if you are born with the blood of the them flowing through your veins or are half dragon yourself.
Years later came Ser Duncan the Tall. He was on a solo mission to reclaim his swamp, and he picked up a runaway Egg along the way. It was not his intention to go any further than Duloc, but he ended up rescuing you for the town's lord, Lyonel Baratheon.
What he hadn’t accounted for, was falling in love with you and you for him. True love’s kiss had cured you of your affliction with a singular silver-gold streak in your hair to show for it, and Dunk was the same lovable oaf, a true knight of the realm.
But a hedge knight, he was certainly not who a princess such as yourself was expected to marry.
As the carriage arrived at the great castle, you took note of the large crowd of people awaiting your return. You came to a stop in front of the long red and black carpet spread on the ground. Your parents, the king and queen, stood at the end of it.
Dunk was marveling at the sight. He had never seen a castle so big, and he had never seen this many people in one place before. He was gawking out the window, leaning over your shoulder to see. You pressed your hand to his chin. "Pick up your jaw," you giggled.
A page leapt out from the crowd, blowing a horn and projecting, “Announcing the long awaited return of the beautiful princess and her new husband!”
“This is it, Dunk.” You beamed and took his hand once more. You exited the carriage, Dunk stumbling out behind you after hitting his head on the top of the carriage.
The smallfolk visibly deflated at the sight of you and your new husband, the crowd going completely silent as Dunk rose to his full height. “I’ll go park the car,” Egg said unhelpfully, shrinking into the carriage as the it wheeled away. Dunk looked back toward it, hoping it would reverse and pick him up again.
You squeezed Dunk’s hand tighter and managed a tight lipped smile. “Well, at least Mom and Dad look happy to see us.”
Your parents stood on the other side of the carpet, eyebrows furrowed, but smiling nonetheless. Perhaps it was more of a grimace.
Dunk sent you a quizzical glance. “That’s happy?”
You shrugged, smiling warily, attempting to look reassuring. “In their own way.”
The four of you approached one another awkwardly. The silence between you was palpable. Your father was staring at Dunk unsubtly, making a conscious effort not to look too judgmental.
“Mom, Dad!” You broke the silence and embraced your parents in a tight hug. “This is Ser Duncan, my husband.” You interlocked your fingers with your husband's once again.
“Yes,” said Baelor, looking Duncan up and down, eyes lingering on your conjoined hands.
"Well, I can see where your daughter gets her good looks from," Duncan said, attempting to lighten the mood but intensifying the awkward energy instead.
Baelor gave him a quick, disparaging look before setting his sights on you again, displeasure wiping itself from his dark features. “Welcome home, daughter. We’ve missed you dearly," he managed.
Dunk scoffed, for he found irony in your father's words since he was the one to send you away. Your father shot him another disapproving look.
Jena cleared her throat, searching for any excuse to relieve the tension. “Please join us for supper. I've had the chefs prepare your favorite, darling. Escargot!”
"Oh, thank you, mom." You neglected to mention that you had no taste for the dish since you were a child. But, of course, she wouldn't know that.
You and Dunk followed your parents inside the castle. You marveled at the size. This place, you were born here, you lived here until the age of thirteen. The only memories you have are faint and distant.
Playing with your younger brothers in the courtyard, pretending to be dragons, though they didn't know you almost were one.
You looped your arm through Dunk’s elbow and pressed your cheek to his bicep. He glanced down at you, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze as you entered the grand dining room.
Your brothers were standing behind their respective chairs. Their heads snapped up in unison at the sound of the doors opening. Valarr grinned brightly at you, leaving his chair to stand in front of you.
He was a man grown, standing taller than you now. His two differently colored eyes mirrored those of you father's, and his face was angled and sharp where it once was soft and chubby.
Separating from Dunk, you reached out to Valarr first, pulling him into a hug. You ran your fingers over the white streak in his hair. "You're so tall, Valarr."
He chuckled, parting from you to look you over. "Me? Look at you." His fingers twirled your lock of silver in his hand. "We're matching now."
"That we are." You beamed, looking past him to Matarys, always the shyer one. He smiled at you from his place at the table.
"It's good to have you back, sister. We've all missed you here,” he said earnestly.
You returned his kind smile. “Sister, introduce us to your husband,” Valarr requested, gaze shifting toward Dunk. He was much better at masking his judgement than your father was, but he couldn’t help his eyes widening and the sheer size of the man.
“This is Ser Duncan. He is a hedge knight.” A short introduction, yes, but Dunk hadn’t many titles of his own.
Valarr was hesitant in his response, waiting for you to continue your introduction. It wasn’t until Dunk let out a simple “Hello,” that Valarr remembered his voice.
“Right, pleasure to meet you, Ser Duncan.” He clapped his hands together. “Shall we eat?”
Your family sat down at the wooden table. Baelor and Dunk sat at each head of the table, you and your mother were sat across from your brothers. Dunk had initially tried to sit right next to you, so you had to inform him that it was customary for the heads of each household to sit at the ends. He gave you a small pout, annoyed by the lack of closeness to you.
Dunk stared at the several forks and spoons, varying in size on either side of his plate. The poor guy had no idea which utensil to use, but tried his best to mimic your behavior. Baelor continued to stare at him in thinly veiled disapproval.
Your mother cleared her throat with a smile. “So, daughter, tell us about where you’ve been living.”
You set down your spoon politely, wiping your face with your napkin. “Oh, Dunk owns land north of here. It’s beautiful, we have a cottage and a garden out front,” you answered, smiling fondly at the thought of your home.
"That sounds wonderful, sister," Valarr offered with a smile after Baelor had rolled his eyes unsubtly.
“Well, I suppose that would be a fine place to raise your children,” Jena said innocently.
Dunk spit out the wine he was drinking, the dark liquid catching onto your youngest brother's doublet. Matarys wiped the stains with his napkin without a word, though his tight lipped expression gave away his emotions. Baelor had started to choke on his food at the mere suggestion of his grandchildren being sired by Dunk.
“Well, it’s a bit early to be thinking about that,” Dunk wheezed.
“Indeed,” Baelor agreed, coughing. “I just started eating,” he muttered darkly, once he got the food out of his throat.
“Baelor!” Jena scolded.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dunk asked, a hard edge to his voice. He leaned forward, elbows on the table as he carelessly let his spoon fall into his soup.
“Dad, Dunk, really, it’s fine. Relax," you interjected before Baelor could reply, attempting to diffuse the situation.
Baelor scoffed. “Well, for his type.”
“My type?” Dunk questioned, both his eyebrow and voice raised.
“Dinner is served!” The wait staff rushed out of the kitchen, displaying the food for the main course on the table.
“Well, dig in, everyone,” Jena encouraged. There were a few moments of silence besides the clinking of plates and sounds of everything getting passed around the table. This whole time, Dunk and Baelor had been shooting each other dirty looks. You looked at them awkwardly during the silence, though said silence might have been better than conversation at this point.
Baelor set his fork down, clearing his throat. “Ser Duncan, who were you squire to before you were knighted?”
“Ser Arlan, your grace," Dunk answered.
"I have never heard of such a knight," sniffed Baelor.
"Neither have I, father," Valarr added unhelpfully, eyeing Dunk skeptically.
“Well, he was honorable. Know much about honor, your grace?” Dunk provoked.
"Excuse me, boy?"
Dunk leaned back in his chair, fork giving an unsavory splash in his soup. “Was it a very honorable thing to do to lock your daughter in a tower for half her life?"
“Duncan!” you chastised, watching your father's face redden with anger.
Baelor argued, “I only did that because I loved her."
“Aye, daycare or a dragon guarded castle?”
“You wouldn’t understand, you’re not her father!” Baelor retaliated, standing to reach across the table, grabbing the platter of the main dish in an uncharacteristic showing of madness.
You mother sighed. “I just love when the whole family is together for dinner."
Dunk stood then, reaching forward to grab onto the other side of the platter, yanking on it until the entire bird had flown off the plate onto the table, making a huge mess. The two men glared at each other, blaming the other for a display that was equally their fault.
The silence was loud. Your brothers were staring at you in horror. Your cheeks burned. You pushed your chair away from the table, stood up, and stormed out of the room, not bothering to look back at your husband.
Pushing the large wooden doors to your childhood bedroom open, you crossed the room and walked out onto the terrace. You slumped onto your elbows, head in your hands as a tear slipped down your cheek, wetting the stone below you.
Just then, a sheer blue bubble appeared in front of you. You blinked, looking around because who was out there blowing bubbles? A moment after it appeared, it popped, and there was a silver haired man standing beside you on the terrace.
“Uncle Maekar?” you asked, bewildered.
“Yes, child.” He looked you up and down, eyeing the differently colored streak in your hair. “My, have you grown. What’s on your mind, niece? Why the tears?”
Ignoring the fact that you haven't seen Maekar for over a decade, you still chose to confide in your uncle, no matter how strange it was that he appeared outside your window in a bubble.
You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. “Uncle, it’s my husband and my father. They can’t seem to get along.”
Maekar gave a small shrug. “Well, your husband tends to be disagreeable," he said mildly. "I’m sure it’ll blow over by the end of the wedding feast on the morrow.”
You looked down at the stone railing, chewing on your lip. “Perhaps, but father doesn’t approve of him because he’s a hedge knight. Only, he doesn't know him. He's sweet and kind, and he loves me like no other."
Maekar frowned, scrunching his nose and furrowing his eyebrows. “Sweet and kind? I have never known him to be either."
You tilted your head, blinking at your uncle in confusion. “What?”
Your bedroom doors opened again to reveal your husband, looking irritated in a way you'd rarely seen him. He stumbled across the room, eyes narrowing at Maekar. “Oh great, more relatives.”
“Who is this?” Maekar questioned.
Dunk fumbled with the drawers of your dresser, no doubt looking for the clothes the servants had taken from your bags. “The husband of the princess. Apologies, we didn’t invite you to our wedding," he commented bitterly.
“But not out of spite, uncle. We reside a good thousand miles from here,” you assured.
“I need to excuse myself.” Maekar said suddenly, his bright red floating Cadillac appearing randomly outside of the room.
Once he was gone, you turned to find Dunk throwing your bags open and stashing your clothes back inside.
“What are you doing?”
“Packing,” he said harshly. “We’re leaving.”
“When did you decide that?” You scoffed, planting hands on your hips as you watched him make a mess of his and your things.
“Shortly after arriving.”
“You’re acting irrational, Dunk! Can you please just try to do this? For me? For my parents? This is the behavior of-"
“Of what?" He snapped, looking up then, angrier than you've ever seen him. "Smallfolk? Peasants? I don't belong here. I'm not welcome. You can come back with me, or stay here. It makes no difference to me."
You backed away from him, visibly hurt. "I've made changes for you, Dunk. Think about that," you said quietly, turning to leave the room.
You closed the door behind you. Bringing a hand up to your eyes, you caught the tears threatening to spill out. You sniffled, and decided to take a walk around the castle.
Your husband stood on the other side of the door, leaning his forehead against it. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the swimming feeling in his head and focus on how to fix it.
Meanwhile, just upstairs, Baelor stood on his own balcony, just having finished eavesdropping on your entire conversation. "This is preposterous," he mumbled, reentering the bedroom.
Jena glanced up from her book. "Remember that this is our daughter's choice."
"Yes, yes. But she was supposed to choose the prince that we picked out for her," he said ironically. "How can she expect us to give our blessings to a mere hedge knight?"
"She's given him her favor. Honestly, maybe she's better off with Duncan. You know how our first choice can get."
"You forget that he has no knowledge of what life is like over here. This isn't his backwoods swamp where one bathes in the mud or sleeps on a bed of grass."
"Oh, stop being such a drama king," Jena replied with a shrug. "Love isn't always conventional."
"Fine," he muttered. "I suppose I'll just act like everything is fine. Honestly, how could this get any worse?"
"Hello, Baelor." Baelor jumped and turned around on the balcony, finding himself face to face with his brother opening the door to his magic floating Cadillac. "We need to chat."
Maekar's eyes narrowed, and Baelor, though the elder, knew his brother could be quite relentless, so he better get in the carriage. Once inside, the door slammed, and he saw he was sat across from Maekar and his second eldest son, Aerion, who was busy studying his nails with a glare.
"You remember your nephew, Prince Aerion," Maekar introduced irritably.
Baelor feigned surprise. "My, Aerion, is that you? Gods, it's been years. When did you get back?"
Aerion sat up with a sharp sigh. "Oh, about five minutes ago actually. After I endured blistering wind, scorching desert. I climbed to the highest room in the tallest tower only to find that the princess, who was sworn to me, was already rescued and married to another man, a hedge knight, no less."
"Well, it isn't my fault he was quicker," Baelor said unhelpfully.
Aerion's eyes flashed with red hot anger. He began to stand up and lunge forward before Maekar reached his arm out in front of the boy.
Maekar sighed loudly. "Baelor, we made a deal, many years ago, if you recall. Your daughter marries Aerion, or I will not hesitate to go back on my part. I want my son on that throne. It's what's best for your daughter and your kingdom. Think about what we've talked about today."
With that, Maekar opened the carriage door and swatted Baelor out like a simple fly. Once back outside his terrace, and Maekar out of sight, Baelor exhaled deeply for the final time that night. He knew what he had to do to protect his daughter.
It was two in the morning, and Dunk was tossing and turning. You had come back to bed that night, but refused to talk to him. Well, it was more like he pretended to be asleep to avoid conflict with you.
He flipped over, though you were facing the wall, breathing softly and evenly. Dunk reached up to run his fingers through your hair, careful not to tangle it.
His feet were hanging off the edge of the bed, and he was wide enough to take up most of it. He turned onto his back, facing the top of your wooden bed, the poster of Ser Jacaerys above taunting him.
He scoffed lowly. Sure, that Ser Jacaerys might've been a princely knight, he might’ve been a handsome knight, but was he as honorable as Dunk? With that chiseled of a jawline, he might’ve been.
Dunk sighed and stood from the bed, looking over to make sure the creaking hadn’t woken you.
He looked at your various posters and figurines, all of which depicting handsome knights in expensive armor, saving a beautiful princess from one thing or another.
But he wasn’t one of those knights. He wasnt a knight at all.
He approached the music box in the corner of your bedroom and cringed when it made noise upon opening it. He quickly swiped the small journal from inside of it.
Opening the cover, he read the first entry in his head.
“Dear Diary, Valarr and Matarys asked me to build a pillow fort and sleepover in Valarr’s room last night. Father said no. He never lets me doing anything fun after sunset.”
Dunk flipped to the next page.
“Dear Diary, Mom and dad told me I have to go away for a while. But, they said that one day, a handsome prince will save me and marry me!”
Dunk smirked at that, but his smile fell as he looked at the next page.
“Mrs. Aerion Targaryen.”
Next page.
“Mrs. Aerion Targaryen.”
Next page.
“Mrs. Aerion Targaryen.”
Next page.
“Mrs. Aerion Targaryen.”
Each page had a differently decorated heart drawn around the name. He flipped the pages until he couldn’t take it anymore.
From what you’d told him about your family, Aerion was your cousin, and he was mean. If that was true, why had you written his name as yours about fifty times?
He felt a pit form in his stomach but tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter. You were thirteen when you wrote this, the age where everyone tells girls that if a boy is mean to her, that means he likes her.
Plus, you loved Dunk. You told him so every day and every night. You showed him in the way you hung off his arm and kissed him on the mouth. He longed to kiss you now, to feel you melt against him. He could pick you up in his big arms with little effort, lay you down on the bed and-
A knock sounded on the door and brought Dunk away from his thoughts.
Your father stood on the other side of the door, smiling up at Dunk. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Dunk said, blush rising to his cheeks as he remembered the impure thoughts he was having of this man’s daughter.
“Good, well, I wanted to apologize for my behavior at supper. I was hoping we could start over. Would you join me on a morning hunt tomorrow?”
Dunk glanced back at your sleeping form on the bed.
“I know it would mean the world to my daughter," Baelor added.
“Yes, I’d like that.” Dunk agreed, though he really didn’t want to.
“Alright. 7:30 by the old oak," Baelor confirmed with a nod and a stiff smile.
The next morning, Dunk and Egg were wandering the forest aimlessly, bright sunlight filtering through the never ending trees. “I don’t know why you insisted on coming with me, you’re no help at all. You’re just as lost as I am," Dunk said dejectedly.
“Am not!" Egg chirped. "We followed my uncle’s directions exactly. He wouldn’t lead you astray.”
Dunk dragged a hand over his face, groaning. “My one chance to make things good with her father, and I’ve messed it up.”
“Not to worry, Dunk! There’s still time!”
Ever the hopeful one, Egg.
“Hey, Egg?”
“Yeah, Dunk?”
“Is Prince Aerion your older brother?”
Egg scowled. “Yes, why?”
“Do you think that he should’ve been the one to save the princess and not me? Would she have been happier married to him?”
Egg stopped in his tracks and whipped around to face Dunk. “Are you mad? There is nary a knight more noble than you, Ser Duncan, especially not Aerion. He’s wretched. Plus, my cousin loves you. I literally watched you two fall in love. Why would you even ask something like that?”
Dunk shrugged, blush creeping up his neck. “Just wondering.”
Suddenly, a rustling came from the bushes ahead. A man staggered out of the brush, holding a large sword ungracefully.
“Oi, ser," Dunk called, squinting at him. "Do you know where we are?”
The man said nothing, stumbling forward toward Dunk and Egg.
Dunk glanced down at Egg. “Uh, should we be worried?”
“That’s just my stupid drunk brother." Egg rolled his eyes. "Daeron, this isn’t the way to the brothel.”
With no warning, Daeron lunged forward at Duncan, sword tilting in his hand. Duncan easily dodged and knocked the sword to the ground. Daeron watched helplessly as it clattered off a stone.
“What do you think you're doing, lad?” Dunk said, bewildered.
“Why are you trying to stab Ser Duncan? You've officially lost it," Egg remarked.
“I’ve been sent," Daeron slurred, swaying slightly as he pointed at Dunk. "To kill him.”
Egg burst out laughing. Dunk shot him a look that suggested he was about to give the boy a clout in the ear.
“Stop laughing, brother, I was!” Daeron insisted.
“By who? Who would pay you to be an assassin?” Egg mocked through his giggles.
“I’ll have you know, the king thinks me worthy enough to be one!” Daeron defended indignantly.
“The king?” repeated Dunk incredulously. “He sent you?”
Daeron froze. “Oh shit, I wasn’t supposed to say that.”
Dunk sighed, kicking Daeron's sword off the rock before sitting down dejectedly. He stared aimlessly at his reflection in the stream. “So much for a royal blessing. Maybe the princess would be better off with Prince Aerion.”
Daeron snorted. “Yeah, that’s exactly what the king said.”
Egg frowned, coming to sit next to Dunk. “Don’t say that, Dunk. The princess knows you’d do anything for her, which is much more than that jerk Aerion could say.”
Dunk ran his hands over his face. “I just wish I could be what she wished for, what her parents wished for her. Things would be so much easier if I were a prince already.”
“You don’t need to be a prince!" Egg insisted. "What matters is that she loves you as you are!”
“My father surely has a potion for that.” Daeron interjected, fumbling around his belt for his flask, tilting it back into his mouth once he found it.
“What?”
“He makes potions,” he said casually. “We could go to his workshop and find one to fix you.”
“Daeron, no," Egg groaned. "That’s not helpful.”
“Take us there," Dunk decided, ignoring Egg's attempts to stop him as he began to follow Daeron through the woods.
-
You awoke to sun pouring in through your sheer curtains. You rolled over, reaching your arm out to touch Dunk, but he was not there. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a deep frown.
Maybe he was really upset. You fell asleep beside him, although you could always tell when he was pretending to sleep, he was shit at it, but he didn't need to know that.
Your frown persisted as you got ready for the day, setting out to find your parents. They were outside on the patio, approving the preparations being made for your wedding ball. You caught your mother rolling her eyes at your father before he walked away conveniently when you approached them.
"Mom, have you seen Duncan?"
"I haven't." Jena glanced up from the carpet options she was studying. "You should ask your father."
You gave her a small smile. "Thanks."
Approaching your father, he spotted you and immediately turned the other way, attempting to leave. "Dad, have you seen Duncan?"
Baelor turned, not looking too pleased at his failed escape. "No, I haven't, dear. I'm sure he found a mud hole to cool off in after your spat last night."
Heat found its way to your cheeks. "Oh, you heard that?"
"Well, honey, the whole kingdom heard it. He's a bit of a brute."
"Him?" You shot back, eyes narrowing. "You weren't exactly welcoming, Dad. What did you expect?"
"What did you expect?" Baelor countered. "He's taken my only daughter to live her life as a peasant."
You straightened, stepping back an inch. "I'm happy with my life, Dad. Not everything is about money. I would think you'd be happy for me too."
Baelor exhaled lowly. "You're my eldest, my heir. I'm just thinking about what's best for you. You should do the same."
He walked away from you, leaving you to your thoughts, which weren’t pleasant. You sighed, leaving the patio to look elsewhere for your husband.
Meanwhile, Egg was struggling to keep his composure. Daeron had managed to convince Dunk that a princely potion was exactly what he needed to make you happy.
Egg, of course, was the only one who could presently see reason. Daeron and Dunk walked side by side as Egg trailed behind them, scowling at their hushed chatter and chuckles.
"What's so funny, lads?" he piped up when he'd finally had enough.
Daeron looked over his shoulder and smirked at the boy. "Just manly talks. You wouldn't understand yet."
Dunk's cheeks were tinged red as he made an effort to look away from Egg. Luckily for him, he wouldn't have to hide for long because the place they were looking for came into view.
It was a small unseemly cottage, but when looking slightly past it, there was a massive factory behind it, smokestacks pumping out pink and blue vapor. "Our father is the largest producer of intoxicating liquids in Far Far Away. You know, potions, wine,” Daeron explained, gesturing to the rather intimidating structure.
He grinned up at Dunk and the large man backed away slightly as the smell of Daeron's wine soaked breath reached his nose. The three of them reached the threshold of the cottage, entering into the foyer. The walls were covered with photos of Maekar.
Dunk shuddered, attempting to look away from Maekar’s pale eyed stare that followed him everywhere. "Looks like someone's a little self obsessed."
"You don't know the half of it," Daeron said.
The three approached the desk, and the man working did not look up. "Prince Maekar is not in at the moment."
Over the intercom, a gruff voice barked out, "Raymun, coffee and lemon cakes now."
Raymun pressed down on the button. "Yes, my prince. Right away.” He looked up at them. “Apologies, sers. The prince will not be seeing anyone today."
"We are his sons, you bumbling fool. You must let the princes in this instant," Daeron commanded, slurring his words a bit.
Raymun looked over Dunk skeptically. "That one isn't. And what about the little bald one? All of Prince Maekar's sons have hair, last time I checked."
"So what he got a botched haircut?" Egg looked at Daeron in offense. "Look, Raymun, we're here to shadow our father. This lunk here is our knight, our sworn protector."
Raymun changed his attitude quickly. "Oh, well, if that's the case, go right on in."
The doors opened to reveal the factory. Workers were everywhere, but none paid the three much mind. "Well, he wasn't hard to convince." Dunk noted.
"He's not very bright," remarked Egg.
They entered Maekar's office just as he was cackling maniacally into his cauldron, pouring various pink and red liquids into it. He didn't notice Dunk and his sons until Dunk loudly cleared his throat.
Maekar looked up from his concoction and immediately scowled. "What are you doing here, hedge knight? And with my sons in tow?"
"Well, sorry to bother you, my prince, but it seems that my wife is not exactly happy,” Dunk said bluntly, hoping to get this over with sooner rather than later. Maekar was scary looking in the light from his concoction.
"And you're wondering why?" Maekar's upper lip curled in disgust. "Let's explore that. Tell me one story where the princess has ended up living happily ever after with a hedge knight. Princess Rhaenyra, she married Prince Daemon, another Targaryen."
"Also her uncle," Daeron pointed out.
"Also quite mentally unstable," Egg added.
Maekar glared at his boys. "Queen Helaena, married her brother, King Aegon II."
"Against her will," noted Daeron.
"Are you really using a known usurper as an example here?" Egg asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Whatever," Maekar snapped, throwing his hands up. "Details don't matter. What matters is, princesses should be married to princes, not fucking hedge knights born from gods know who and gods know where."
Dunk was about to defend his honor and his lady wife before being interrupted by Raymun carting in Maekar's lunch. "Oh, pardon my interruption, my prince."
"These fools were just leaving anyway. Bring me my cakes, Raymun,” Maekar demanded, actively shooing the three from his office.
They exited, Egg noting Dunk’s disappointment. He looked to his right to see a sign above a room nestled into the side of the working area titled “employees only, potion room.’ Naturally, his eyes lit up with a newfound mischief. “Come on. Let's not give up hope yet."
Egg glanced around to make sure nobody was looking at him before he and the other two darted into the room. The room was lined with shelves all the way to the ceiling, adorned with different colored potions in differently shaped bottles.
At the top, there was a cabinet differently labled from the rest. Egg spotted it first. "Daeron, you keep a look out. I'm going to climb up there and see what's inside."
"Are you crazy?” Dunk marveled. “You'll fall and break your arse. Then we can be sure the princess will never speak to me again."
"Relax, Ser. I'm very agile." Dunk stared as Egg swung from shelf to shelf, reading off potions as he went. When he got to the glass cabinet, he read off the potion inside, "Princely Potion, to make you look and feel like a prince."
"That’s the one," Dunk said. "Get it out."
Just as Raymun was walking past the room, he caught a glimpse of Daeron peeking his head outside. "Oh shit," Daeron cursed. "Hurry it up over there, Egg."
"Okay!" Egg punched the glass and grabbed the potion through the shards, cutting up his poor hands in the process. He jumped down from the shelf, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor, groaning as he reached the potion out toward Dunk.
"I told you you'd break your arse."
"Okay, guys, we seriously have to go," Daeron warned.
Dunk scooped Egg up in his arms and bolted out the door, Daeron stumbling behind him as they ran blindly toward the door. Daeron was staggering and knocking over several cauldrons, tables, literally anything in his path.
"Can you run properly or do you need me to carry you too?" Dunk asked impatiently, half sarcastic, half serious.
Daeron stopped moving, put a finger up, and vomited all over the floor. "Apologies," he muttered, wiping his mouth.
Dunk sighed, motioning for Daeron to come over. Daeron proceeded to hop on his back, arms coming around his neck and practically choking him. "Loosen up!" Dunk choked.
The three ran out of the facotry, well technically one as the other two were stationed on Dunk. Workers chased after them helplessly, slipping in the vile, repugnant mixture that was unfinished potions and Daeron's upchucked breakfast.
Maekar ran out of his office and scanned over the giant mess in his workplace. "Clean this up!" he roared. "Find them!"
At the worst moment, Prince Aerion waltzed into the room from his office, though he never did anything besides sitting in there and pestering employees. "Gods, what happened?"
"That fucking hedge knight happened," Maekar grumbled.
Aerion backed up, unsheathed his sword and swung it around like a lunatic. "Where is this hedge knight? I will slaughter him where he stands!"
"Oh, put that away, you fool. You'll still be king. We just have to be more clever about it."
Raymun cautiously approached Maekar, covered in sludge from one of the the tipped over cauldrons. "My prince, everything is accounted for except for one potion."
"What? Give me that." Maekar snatched the clipboard from Raymun and inspected the list. His lips curled into a wicked grin. "I do believe we can make this work."
-
Slowly making their way back to Far Far Away, Dunk lifted the potion to read it. "Princely Potion, it says if I take it, I'll become a prince."
"I'm pretty sure it will just make you look like a prince," Egg said. "Maybe this is a bad idea, Dunk. The princess likes you the way you are. You are handsome enough!"
"Handsome enough is not as handsome as the prince she's looking for. I have to," Dunk said stubbornly.
"Be careful," Daeron cautioned. "I've taken many a drought that proved to be disagreeable."
"That's because you drank too much. Throwing up from drinking five bottles of wine a night is not the same as an unfortunate side effect from a potion," Egg said smartly.
"Well, I'm drinking it," Dunk declared.
Egg waved his arms around. "Woah, wait a second. Do you understand what you're giving up for this? No more hanging in the mud? Relaxing by the big elm tree? Looking up at the stars at night? We barely see stars here anymore. You love your life now. You love being a hedge knight more than you would ever love being a prince."
"I love my princess more than I do any of those things." Dunk yanked the cork out with his bare hands, tilted his head back, and let the liquid slide down his throat.
"Do you feel any different?" Daeron asked after a moment of nothing happening.
"No."
"You're still a big oaf," Egg observed.
"Maybe it's a dud," Daeron shrugged.
"Or maybe the princess and I were never meant to be," Dunk said sorrowfully.
The sky rumbled and rain began to pour down on the group. They came across an empty barn and decided to hole up there for the night. Dunk took one step inside the barn, fell over, and passed out, almost taking poor Egg out with him.
The next morning, Dunk awoke to a maiden's face across from his own. She was smiling dumbly at him. "Good morning sleepyhead!"
"Uh, hello." Dunk looked away from her and noted a few other maidens in his midst, all of whom were staring at him. He was quite accustomed to getting stared at, but not like this. These were looks he'd only ever received from you.
"I fetched you a pail of water!" The maiden said, pushing the bucket toward Dunk.
Dunk stood up, noticing that he was no longer at eye level with the top of the door, in fact, he was only a few inches taller than these maidens. That couldn't have been right.
"Thanks," he murmured, reaching out for the bucket but stopping short when he saw his own hands. His fingers were longer and thinner, his palms smaller. They were clean and pale, no callouses to show for his hardships, only baby soft skin.
He gasped and rushed forward to take the water pail, nearly screaming out loud when he saw his reflection. His jaw and cheeks looked as if they were carved from stone by the greatest sculptor in the kingdom. His hair was longer, curling around his ears and forehead. Most strikingly, it was a shining silver-gold, matching exactly to your lone streak. His eyes were a pale violet, his long white eyelashes blinking in confusion.
"Are you a prince or just a bastard?" The first maiden asked.
"I don't mind either way!" Another chimed in.
"Hey, I saw him first!" A third said.
"Um, I've got to wake up my counterparts," Dunk excused himself, walking over to the stack of hay where Daeron and Egg slept, and shook them awake.
Daeron woke first, eyes widening as he went to grip his knife. "Oh gods, I'm dreaming again!" Dunk rolled his eyes, and clapped a hand over Daeron's mouth.
"Relax, it's me, Dunk."
"Ser Duncan?" Egg rubbed his sleepy eyes as he stared at Dunk. "I guess the potion really does work." He grinned. "You could be our brother!"
"You're more handsome than me now," Daeron said.
"That's not saying much," remarked Egg. "Wait, the potion, it says something else on the bottle!" He grabbed the discarded bottle from the ground to read the words on the bottom. "To make the effects of this potion permanent, you must kiss your true love by midnight."
"Midnight?" Dunk said incredulously. "Why is it always midnight?"
"I'll be your true love!" The three maidens said in unison.
"Uh, I already have a true love, thanks." Dunk shrugged out of the maiden's grip. "Well, princess, here comes the new me!" he said proudly, right before his too-big pants fell down to his ankles.
"Uh, first, we've got to get you some clothes that fit."
Once Daeron had found Dunk some princely clothes in the shops of King's Landing, the three finally approached the castle.
"Tell the princess that her husband, Ser Duncan, has returned," Dunk said confidently to a couple Kingsguards, who gave each other a skeptical look before stepping aside once Egg and Daeron assured the man was with them.
The three walked inside the castle, and Dunk headed for your chambers. He broke out into a run, leaving behind the two princes as he called out your name.
He entered your chambers, slightly out of breath as he pushed his wavy silver locks out of his face. There in the corner of the room, was Maekar. "Hello, handsome," he said, smirking.
The doors slammed behind him. "Where's the princess?" Dunk asked, panicked.
"Why don't you have a look for yourself?"
Dunk rushed toward the window, he spotted you below. You were standing alone, looking around, calling out for him. He banged on the window, hoping you would hear him from this distance.
And there, from down the stairs, approached Aerion. "Aerion?" you asked, unsure if it was really him or one of his siblings. You'd yet to reunite with Egg's brothers.
"Nonsense," Aerion said. "It's me, your husband, Duncan."
You returned his assurance with a blank stare. "What?"
"I took a potion to make me more Targaryen for you, what do you think?"
You stared at the prince in utter shock.
"Ah, speechless, I see. Am I really that much more handsome?"
You reached forward suddenly, taking Aerion's face in your hands to look at him closer. Dunk pounded on the window again. This monster didn't deserve your touch.
"Why would you do this?" You shoved him away, gesturing at his body. "You're barely taller than me! Your eyes, they're not yours. Your hair, it's-"
"Magnificent, right? This is what was best for us. Now I'm sure to get your parents blessing."
Your hands returned to your side, clenched as you looked at him with the saddest eyes Dunk had ever seen on you. "Dunk, I-"
Your parents walked outside, cutting you off. "Aerion?" you father said.
"Do you really think I look like him?" Aerion interjected smoothly. "It is I, Duncan."
Your mother looked confused, but your father pretended like this all made perfect sense. Of course, this is exactly what he wanted from the start.
Dunk pounded on the window as hard as he could. He believed he could've broken it if he was his normal self. He was shouting your name, willing you to just look up.
But you didn't, you went into Aerion's arms when he reached out to hold you, hesitantly wrapping yours around him and resting your cheek on his shoulder.
Dunk wanted nothing more than to be the one holding you, kissing that pout off of your lips and wiping your silent tears. He was furious. Maekar stood behind him, laughing at the hedge knight.
"I don't think she can hear you. You've already messed her life up enough, let her be happy with the prince of her dreams."
"But, I thought I could be that for her. I love her," Dunk admitted dejectedly, staring at the floor. He couldn't bare to look at the sight of you and Aerion together any longer.
"If you really love her, you'll let her go," Maekar said, leaving him to his thoughts.
That's how Dunk, Daeron, and Egg ended up in a dimly lit tavern that night on the outskirts of the kingdom, one that Daeron was quite familiar with. "This was all just a mistake," Dunk said.
"Lighten up," Daeron said. "Now you can fuck any whore you wish! That's what I do."
Dunk scrunched his face up at that. "I'd rather not be like you. And I don't want any whore. I want my princess, my wife."
"Then let's go back! You can't just let the best thing that's ever happened to you disappear!" Egg exclaimed. "You love her!"
Dunk looked into the bottom of his cup, hoping it would give him an answer. "Aye, I do. I ought to wring Aerion's neck for having her, but what say do I have against the king of Far Far Away?"
From the other side of the bar, Dunk swore he heard King Baelor's voice. He glanced up from his cup and saw a cloaked figure disappear into a room behind them.
Ear pressed up against the door, Dunk heard the conversation inside. "The princess is not exactly warming up to Prince Aerion," Baelor said.
Aerion sighed, throwing his hands up dramatically. "FYI, not my fault. How charming can I be when I have to pretend I'm that dreadful lunk?"
"Perhaps it's better if we should call the whole thing off," Baelor suggested.
"What?" sounded Maekar and Aerion's outraged voices from beyond the door.
"Well, you can't force somebody to fall in love, can you?" Baelor reasoned.
"I beg to differ. I do it for people all the time. Here, have her drink this love potion, and she'll fall in love with the first man she kisses, which will be Aerion."
"No," said Baelor firmly. "I cannot do this. It's not right for my daughter."
"No?" Maekar aksed. "If you recall, I helped you with your happily ever after, and I can take it away. Is that what you want?"
"No," Baelor sighed.
"Well then, that settles it. We must prepare for the princess' wedding ball. We shall see you later tonight." Maekar opened the door, and Dunk was thrown backwards onto the floor.
"You," Maekar sneered. "Seize him!"
Dunk stood up roughly, grabbing the backs of Daeron and Egg's shirts, pulling them, though not as easily as he could before, out of the tavern. They ran down the street, but Maekar's guards were now faster than Dunk, curse his small legs.
The guards easily overpowered the three of them, cuffing them and throwing them into the back of a barred carriage. Egg screamed his head off, commanding the knights to release them, but they took orders from Maekar before they did him.
Egg continued yelling fruitlessly as the carriage carted them off to Maekar's prison.
-
You sat with your head in your hands once again, looking over the windowsill at the gathering crowd, all there to celebrate your marriage. Though, it didn't feel like your marriage anymore, your Dunk.
You wondered what the swamp was like right now. Stars ought to have covered the sky, and you would be laying in the grass with your beloved husband. Listening to his heart beat loud and great in his chest as he tried to make out constellations. Of course, you knew them all, he did not know a single one, and you would giggle as he made up his own.
"Are you laughing at me, princess?" He'd say, rolling himself on top of you, pinning your hands above your head as you giggled louder.
"Of course not, Dunk!" you'd whisper through poorly concealed laughs.
"Oh, you minx." He'd duck his head down, kissing up the column of your throat, his stubble tickling your neck, and you'd laugh louder. You'd feel his lips curl upwards and the rumble of a low chuckle against your skin.
He'd pull back to look at you, and you'd shrink into yourself, blushing at the size of him and how you couldn't escape his eyes. He'd whisper how beautiful you were, how he never knew his life would turn out this good.
Then, he'd kiss your lips and take you under the moonlight.
Now, you weren't sure if you'd ever get that back. This man claiming to be your husband was nothing like the man you knew. He was self obsessed and aggressive, nothing like your Dunk.
Your father came up behind you, holding a tray with two teas on it. He set the tray down beside you and placed a reassuring hand on your back. "Darling, why don't you go down to the ball and give him another chance? You might like this new Duncan."
"But it's the old one I fell in love with. I'd give anything to have him back," you said, melancholic and frowning.
You reached for the tea your father brought you, only for him to stop you. "Sorry, that one's mine."
You took the other one and brought it to your lips, letting the warmth spread through you. "Thanks, Dad."
He gave you a thin smile, but did not take a sip of his own tea.
-
Daeron had completely given up restraint, his head slumping forward. Egg was shouting loudly to be let go, straining against his handcuffs. "Boy, stop moving," Dunk said. "We're not getting out of here any time soon."
"Are you sure about that?"
The three looked up to see Ser Raymun Fossoway standing outside the cell. He was accompanied by Lord Lyonel Baratheon, who Dunk was less than pleased to see.
"What are you two doing here?"
"Can't you tell we're here to rescue you? I was tuning in to the ball livestream when I saw you, Ser Duncan, claim to be the princess' husband, and I thought, that's preposterous, her husband was a great big oaf. But then I saw little Egg with you, and I knew it was you."
"Why do you care?" Last time Dunk had seen Lyonel, he was vying for your hand.
"The princess may not love me, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't do anything to make her happy."
Dunk frowned, not liking the idea of another man wanting to please you.
"Let's get these men free!" Raymun said, fiddling with the keys on his key ring. "I quit that stupid job. We don't even have dental."
Raymun unlocked the cell and the cuffs on the three stooges.
"Let's go, we've got to stop that kiss. I don't want that stupid prince anywhere near my girl," Dunk said, determined, although he currently looked much like a prince himself.
"That's what I like to hear!" Lyonel rejoiced, pushing his sword to the sky. "There's not a lot of time, let's go!"
The four men, and Egg saddled up on the horses Lord Lyonel brought with him and galloped toward the palace.
-
"Ladies and gentlemen, now presenting, the princess and her new husband, Prince Duncan!"
Aerion looped his arm through yours, waving elegantly at the crowd as he smirked openly. The two of you descended the stairs to the courtyard where your parents, brothers, uncle, and highborn lords and ladies were sitting, awaiting your first dance. Aerion was making quite the show of himself.
"Dunk, what are you doing?"
"I'm just playing the part, beautiful." He grinned, displaying his blinding white teeth to the crowd.
You grimaced, eyes narrowing at the shine on his lips. "Is that glitter on your lips?"
"Mhm, cherry flavored, want to taste?"
You physically recoiled. "Ugh, what is with you?"
"But muffincake!" he protested.
You removed your arm from Aerion's and walked back up the stairs, intending on entering the castle and never leaving the comfort of your bed again.
"I have to do everything myself," Maekar muttered, standing from his chair and moving toward the piano. "Put that in C minor."
He waved his magic wand and was suddenly dressed head to toe in a bright red glittering suit. "I'd like to dedicate this song to the princess, and her husband, Prince Duncan."
The spotlight shines directly on you as your uncle (who was surprisingly good) started to sing.
"My princess, would you join me in a dance?"
Only because the spotlight was on you and 'Duncan' had called you his princess, a simple name but one you loved to hear from him, were you willing to accept his hand.
"Since when do you dance this well?" You were used to Dunk's clunky movements as he danced with you around the hearth in your home, not these polished moves.
"My dear, love is full of surprises."
Just outside the walls of the castle, Dunk was charging fiercely on his horse, only stopping when coming in contact with your father's kingsguard. He whipped his helmet off with the gracefulness of a true prince. "It is I, Prince Aerion, and my brothers. Oh, and those two fine lords. Let us in to enjoy the feast." Duncan proclaimed in the deepest tone he could muster.
The guards shrugged and lowered the gate, having been used to Daeron arriving fashionably late. They had no reason to beleive this wasn't Prince Aerion with his hair grown out. As far as they knew, Duncan was already inside.
Duncan charged inside, willing his horse to go faster as the others trailed behind. He burst through the doors to the vast courtyard, setting his sights on you dancing in the middle of everything with Aerion.
He dismounted his horse quickly and jogged over. "Hey, you. Back away from my wife!"
"Dunk?" You asked incredulously, eyebrows flying up at the sight of this unfamiliar man.
Maekar stopped his singing immediately. He shouted into his mic, "Aerion, she's taken the potion, kiss her now!"
Aerion nodded once, grabbing hold of both your arms harshly and forcing you to face him. He ducked down and brought his lips onto yours.
"No!" Duncan shouted. He almost started to weep right then and there, his heart feeling like it would fall from his chest. He'd tried so hard to save you. Dunk the lunk, too late.
When Aerion pulled away, he had this dumb smirk on his face like he'd won something. You took a moment to process what had just happened before slamming your head into his and kicking him to the ground.
Aerion groaned and clutched his forehead. Maekar was shaking with anger as you ran to Dunk, flinging yourself into his arms, noticing that you didn't have to jump very high to do so. He even smelled princely, of expensive oils, and nothing like your Dunk.
You clung to him, and his arms went around your waist. "I'm sorry," he whispered in your ear. "I'm sorry for all of it. I should not have yelled at you, or been crude to your father. Dunk the lunk, thick as a castle wall, slow as-"
"Stop that." You cut him off, leaning back to put your hand over his mouth. "None of that nonsense now. You just saved me from my dreadful cousin."
Dunk smiled at that, bringing a slender hand up to push back your hair.
Maekar shook with rage and lurched forward, about to throw a bottle of some blue liquid at your husband, but he pushed you out of the way. "Dunk!"
Baelor jumped in front of him, taking the hit as the liquid splashed over his jacket. He fell to the ground, hitting his head and passing out.
"Dad!" You scrambled over to his body, clutching the stained fabric of his tunic. Your brothers called out to him as well, running over with your mother. Baelor's hair had turned fully white, along with his beard. His skin became scaly and grey, a tail had sprouted from under both legs.
"Is this what happens when a dragon dies?" Lyonel asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his voice.
Baelor coughed suddenly, sitting up fully and opening his eyes, which were now completely red with long, black slits for pupils. "Dad!" You launched yourself onto him, and he embraced you fully.
"Guess not," shrugged Lyonel.
"No, I hoped you'd never see me like this," Baelor admitted, looked down ashamedly when you pulled away.
"Like what?" You touched his face gingerly, which was no hot to the touch, and he looked at you reluctantly. "You've the same affliction I had. I could never judge you for that."
"'Tis true," Baelor sighed. "Duncan, I owe you an apology. I just wanted what was best for my daughter, but I can see now that she already has it. Will you both accept an old dragon's apologies and blessing?"
Dunk, who had knelt down beside you, nodded at Baelor, who clamped a hand over his as a sign of his final approval.
He looked toward where you mother and brothers were stood. "I'm sorry to you too, Jena. I wish I could be the man you deserve."
"You are more that man today than you ever were," Jena smiled.
The clock chimed once, and Egg yelled, "Dunk! The potion!"
"Right," Dunk said, standing and reaching his hand out to help you do the same. "Princess, is this what you want? If you kiss me now, before midnight, I can be the prince you've always dreamed of, forever."
"You would do that for me?"
Dunk nodded once. "I'd do anything for you." He leaned in, but you held your hand up to his mouth.
"I love you as you are. Not whoever this is. I want my big, strong man back. I would never even dream of kissing you like this."
Dunk grinned, his perfect teeth showing. The clock sounded again, signalling midnight's passing. A wave of bubbles and sparkles rose up around Dunk, before being blown away to reveal the man you married, looking at you with his big dumb smile that you loved so much, boyish and happy.
He barely hesitated before lifting you into his arms, holding you impossibly close and kissing you soundly on the mouth.
Cheers could be heard from everyone attending the ball, except for Maekar and Aerion. "We're going back to Summerhall," Maekar muttered, grabbing Aerion by the bicep and leading him out of the courtyard.
"Hey, isn't this supposed to be a party?" Lyonel shouted, hoisting Egg up onto his shoulders and taking to the stage, grabbing Maekar's discared microphone.
He lifted the microphone to Egg, who apparently inherited his father's singing abilities. You and Dunk took the opportunity the lack of attention brought you to disappear into the castle.
You peeked around the corner, making sure no one spottted you as you lead Duncan by the hand to your chambers. The castle was dark inside, wildly contrasting the party outside.
You and Dunk slipped inside your bedroom, giggling as you pull him downward by the arm, circling your much smaller hand around his thick forearm, and tilting your head up to kiss him once more.
"Princess," he muttered against your lips, his big hand coming to rest on your shoulder, holding you a few inches away from him. He looked down at you with half lidded eyes, his lips parted slightly. He looked you in the eye, his gaze soft. His tongue darted out once to wet his lips.
"What?" you whispered, although you don't need to, an uncontrollable smile stretching across your face.
"These past 48 hours have been the worst of my entire life. I never want to be without you again," he said seriously, hands firm against your shoulder and waist.
You recognized his tone, one of sincerity masking deep need and desire. "You'll never lose me again," you assured, searching his deep blue eyes for belief in the notion.
That's all it took. In a second, his hands dropped from your shoulders, and he looped them under your knees, throwing you over his shoulder. You blinked, eyes level with his broad back as you hung there limply. "Dunk!" you squealed in delight.
He walked you over to your canopied bed, easily tossing your body onto the mattress. He stood over you, shamelessly watching your breasts rise and fall as you breath heavily.
In classic Dunk fashion, he hit his head on the top of the bed, groaning as his hand came up to touch the bruise that would surely form soom. You exhaled into a breathy laugh, trying to contain youself as he raisesd his eyes to yours, pursing his lips to contain his own smile. "You're gonna get it now, girl."
You shriek as he climbed on top of you, large body caging yours against the intricate quilt. Your hands came up to grip his biceps. He ducks his head down into the crook of your neck, kissing from your collarbone to your jaw, and you tilted your head back against the pillow at the feeling of his lips on your skin.
Your eyes met those of Ser Jacaerys above you. "Wait, Dunk," you said breathlessly, lightly shoving at his shoulder.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Do you want to stop?" He looked directly at you as he said it, doing a poor job at masking how badly he absolutely did not want to stop.
"Gods, no. Just give me a second."
He did, sitting back on his heels. You stood on the bed, reaching up to the corner of the poster. You ripped it off in one fail swoop, crumpling it into a ball and chucking it off the bed.
Dunk grinned, dragging you down again by your hips, guiding you into his lap. "All mine now, huh?"
You only nodded, melting into his embrace, his arms possessive around your waist. His confidence made you shy, as it always did, but you loved it. He loved it too. Your heart fluttered as he pulled you closer, his nose nudging yours as he captured your lips with his in a searing kiss.
His hands were roaming from your back to your arse, softly kneading the flesh there. You rocked your hips against his, matching the rhythm of his working hands. He let a groan slip into your mouth, his tongue coming out to meet yours.
He lifted his hips once, twice to meet you there, large hands holding you close as he guided you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he settled on top of you. His hand left your back to caress along your thigh, squeezing your plushness, coaxing you to wrap both legs around him.
"I love you," he whispered gruffly against your mouth, beginning to fumble with the front of your dress. Your heels dug into his lower back, forcing his hips to stutter against yours, his clothed shaft dragging along your covered slit. He moaned into your mouth.
"I love you," you said, lips hot and swollen against his. He whimpered at your words, impatience taking over him as he ripped open the front of your bodice, tearing any and all fabric from your body and tossing it off the bed.
He leaned back again. You whined at the loss of contact as his eyes dragged over your bare body. He shoved his shirt off, throwing it into the pile of clothes next to the bed. "Let me show you how much I love you, wife."
Dunk shifted down the bed, lowering himself between your legs as you spread them for him. He lifted both of them onto his broad shoulders and propped himself onto his elbows, splaying his hands across your back, firmly holding you in place as he dove into you, the only time he broke eye contact.
You let out a cry as he licked a long, slow stripe against you. His tongue darted into your weeping hole, collecting the slick that was pooling out. "Gods, woman." His voice reverberated against your cunt, sending shivers down your spine as you arched your back, angling yourself closer to his mouth.
"Please, Dunk. I want you as you are. I need you." He groaned into your folds, unconsciously rutting against the mattress.
"My heart," he sighed, nose bumping your clit as he dove in further. The noises of him eating your pussy were positively lewd. He was slow, gentle with it, jaw unhinging and hinging as his tongue curled inside you, bringing it back into his mouth to kiss along your slit.
He pressed a firm kiss to your clit, causing your thighs to shake and clamp around his head. He sucked on the bud, building up that familiar white hot pleasure burning in your lower belly.
His hand gripped your thigh tightly, thumbing circles over your sleek skin. He felt it quiver in his hold. "Go on, girl," he encouraged, kissing at your bud, feeling your hips shake.
"Oh, gods, Dunk." He continued his kitten licks against your folds as you rode out your high, his face pressed deep into your core.
You breathed heavily, watching him sit up, your juices coating his face in a translucent sheen. He hurriedly shoved his breeches down, freeing his throbbing cock from its confines.
Like the rest of him, it was big. The first time you saw it, you weren't sure if it would fit. Now, you just wanted him inside you as soon as possible.
He leaned over your body, lacing his fingers through yours. His other hand remained on your hip, and his eyes didn't leave yours when he sheathed himself inside of you. He whimpered for every inch added, head falling into your shoulder as you clench around him, adjusting to his size.
"You feel so good," he breathed out, breath hot against your shoulder as he presses open mouthed kisses to your collar bone. "Gods, so good for me."
"Dunk," you whined. "Please move."
He nodded, letting a ragged exhale escape his mouth as he rocked his hips into you. His strokes were agonizingly slow, his hand pinning yours firmly to the mattress as his mouth nipped at your neck.
His other hand reached up to grab hold of your breast, it covered the entire thing. He squeezes your flesh, running his thumb over your hardened peak, reveling in the noises he was pulling from your lips.
Dunk's tip kissed you cervix, and you were sure he was going to bruise it as he quickened his pace, pistoning in and out of you. "Fuck, I'm close," he cursed, lifting his head from your shoulder and bringing his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans.
You felt his cock twitch, you clenched around him and brought your legs tighter around his body. He broke your kiss. "Princess, don't you want me to pull out?"
"No," you said, too quickly. "Inside, I need you inside."
With that, his hips stuttered one final time, and he let out a primal noise as he fucked his seed up into you. You came not long after he, him fucking you through your second high.
He collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily in your ear. "I hope it sticks," he whispered, bringing a hand up to rest against your belly. "I wouldn't mind having a few kids running around at home."
He grinned as you shoved him off of you, coming to rest your head on his chest after shooting him a stern look. "Don't try to rile me up again, Dunk."
He smiled softly down at you, raking his fingers through your tangled hair. "I intend to," he says. He kissed your hairline softly. "Oh, I intend to."
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