the only dunkdaeron piece of mine that's managed to get out of wip hell so far, only took me losing my stylus and reverting back to fingering my screen, but we up💯💯
it's set in my PJO au with Daeron as a son of Aphrodite and Dunk as an Ares kid, but I also had Ode_et_amo's Churlish Peace in mind as well
Maekar somewhere in the background:
Imma ramble abt this just to get it out. Disclaimer: I haven't finished the series yet and probably won't in the near future either, so I'm basing this off the wiki and playing it by ear
I swear I saw somewhere that Aphrodite kids were immune STDS, and I thought it would be hilarious to make Daeron one considering his unfortunate ending in canon. Also, he could also hide away any & all evidence of him being drunk or suffering through the worst hangover with glamor
I think it's either just Daeron that's a demigod or all of the Maekarlings are all Aphrodite's. I don't blame her for going back like 5 times. Who wouldn't?
Also, Ares Dunk, it's basic, expected even. But he's basically Ares' domain incarnate, right? The brutish/unstrategic side of war and protector of women. And Ares kids can control conflicts, which is probably meant as an advantage to their favored side, but I think Dunk would use it to stop conflicts completely or from escalating further
If a dream is just a dream, and a dream is just a kiss
Then tell me what it means, tell me what this is
And if a touch is just a touch, then a touch just ain't enough
Tell me what it means, tell me you're in love
i'm so in love with the tragedy and beauty of dunkdaeron, and i heard this song and instantly had to dedicate a piece to it.
Summary: 1.6k Words. Daeron has a nightmare about Duncan and a fire. He drunkenly goes to find Dunk to make sure he is alright, and maybe for another reason too.
I originally wrote this as a reader insert but ended up liking the idea better with Dunk x Daeron. Working on a part 2 currently. As always likes, comments, and Reblogs are appreciated :)
The moonlight streamed through the high window of Duncan’s small room within Summerhall. The hour was late and he wished only to wash and go to sleep. A basin of hot water had been brought to the room moments ago and he stood watching the steam curl from the water’s surface.
There was a sudden clatter in the passageway outside the room. Duncan turned just in time to see the door swing open and Daeron Targaryen stumble into the room, making it just inside the threshold before collapsing to the floor.
Dunk stood stunned for a moment, then recovering, hurried over to him, kneeling down beside him. Daeron was in terrible shape. Drunk, eyes unfocused, vomit and red wine stained his tunic, his hands shook slightly. “Daeron! What are you doing here? Are you alright? Oh, you’re a mess!” Duncan cried, hand hovering over his head, reluctant to touch him as he seemed to have gotten vomit in his hair as well.
“Needed to see you…” Daeron said, slurring his words, “had a dream…terrible…fire… had to see you were alright…” He looked up at Duncan, his lilac eyes full of tears, salty tracks of tears already spilled marred his face. “I know you probably hate me… you have every right to…but… I had to make sure.”
“Ah, Daeron,” Dunk said, “I’m just fine. And I don’t hate you, though, you’re right, I probably should. But you shouldn’t be here. You need to try and sleep this off.”
Daeron clung to Dunk’s arms, desperation plain on his face. “Please… please… don’t send me away from you… let me stay…please…I need to know you’re safe” he pleaded.
Duncan sighed deeply, but couldn’t help feeling sorry for the pathetic man before him. His pleading tear filled eyes had broken Duncan’s resolve. Daeron needed help, so help Dunk would provide. “Fine. If you insist. No good has come to me from arguing with princes. But we need to get you cleaned up.”
Duncan stood, pulling Daeron to his feet with him. Daeron swayed slightly but remained standing. “Here let’s get this soiled thing off of you,” Dunk said, and helped him pull his tunic over his head. His breeches were mercifully clean. “Leave those on.” Dunk instructed. “There’s hot water in the basin, you can use it to wash your hair at least.” Daeron just stared at him miserably. Duncan sighed again, “D’you need my help?” Daeron nodded.
Dunk guided Daeron over to the basin. Daeron allowed himself to be led without protest, and sat down beside the basin where instructed. Duncan dragged a chair over beside him, as Daeron watched him from the floor, his eyes soft and trusting. Duncan placed one hand on Daeron’s bare shoulder and one cradled his face as he gently tipped Daeron’s head backwards until his hair dipped into the water. Dunk used one large hand to scoop the water and pour it over Daeron’s hair, careful to avoid getting it in his eyes. He ran his fingers through Daeron’s sandy locks until they were fully soaked. Daeron closed his eyes and hummed in enjoyment. Dunk has never seen Daeron look so relaxed, leaning his head into Duncan’s touch as he gently washed his hair with sweet smelling soap. Whether this was due to the drink or something else, Duncan tried not to speculate.
Duncan finished washing and rinsing Daeron’s hair, then gently tilted his head back up. He wrapped his hair in a towel, and then rose, and crossed the room to his dresser. He picked up the comb lying there and seated himself on the edge of his bed. Well I’ve done this much, I might as well finish the job, Duncan thought. Daeron watched him from across the room, looking miserable, his head hanging down. “Come here.” Duncan said firmly.
Daeron didn’t bother to stand. He crawled on his hands and knees over to where Duncan sat. When he reached him he buried his face in his lap, wrapping his arms around Duncan’s lower legs, his damp hair wetting Dunk’s tunic. Duncan froze, unsure what to do. Duncan cared for Daeron as Egg’s brother, and did not wish to see him in such a sorry state, but he felt no more affection than that. He could feel the heat of Daeron’s breath on his thighs as Daeron let out a quiet sob. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I don’t deserve your kindness… I’m pathetic… and weak…” He may not even remember this tomorrow, he’s so far gone. I suppose the best thing I can do now is take care of him the best I can. For Egg’s sake at least.
Duncan stroked his damp head, “Hush now, enough of that. Sit up, and turn around. Let me comb your hair,” he murmured softly. Daeron slowly lifted his head from Duncan’s lap, like it pained him to do it, looking up at Dunk as though he was his one and only salvation, fresh tears were visible on his face. Duncan cupped his cheek gently and swiped one away with his thumb. Daeron pressed his face into his hand, then grabbed his wrist softly, turned his palm to his mouth, and pressed a kiss to it. Duncan pulled away with forced calm. Daeron’s gaze lingered on Dunk’s face for a moment longer, as if trying to read a message there, before he turned around, and settled at Duncan’s feet like an obedient dog, so that Duncan could run the comb through his shoulder length hair. He worked slowly, careful to avoid pulling, patiently working through each tangle. Daeron relaxed a bit more with each stroke of the comb, his bare shoulders against Dunk’s legs.
“There.” Duncan said, “All finished. Isn’t that better?”
Daeron turned and looked up at him, his eyes hazy with drink, fresh tears, and lust. He cupped Duncan’s clothed calf with his hand, stroking it gently. “Please. I could make you feel so good…s’all I wanna do… if you would just let me…let me do this for you…please…need you…need to show you how good I can be…for you...” He kissed the inside of your Dunk’s knee and Duncan felt the heat of his mouth through his breeches as it began to travel up his thigh leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, his stubble scraping against the fabric.
Duncan grabbed his chin in his large hand and pulled his face up, forcing him to look him in the eye. “Daeron. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing. I’ll only hurt you.” Duncan’s voice was gentle but firm.
“I don’t care…hurt me… break me… tear me apart. As long as it’s you…anything for you…” Duncan’s heart contracted, sensing what Daeron’s next words would be, he braced for their impact. “I love you… I’m sorry…,” he almost whispered, fresh tears had spilled from his eyes and now streamed down his cheeks. He looked so pathetic, Duncan felt a brief pang of disgust, but he knew it was his own fault. He should have thrown Daeron out the second he fell into the room. Duncan didn’t have the heart to throw him out now though.
Dunk slid off the edge of the bed and knelt on the floor beside Daeron. He wrapped his large arms around him and pulled him close. Daeron all but collapsed into his arms, burying his face in the side of his neck. Dunk could feel his hot moist breath, and feel his shoulders shaking gently with sobs. Duncan rubbed gentle circles on his back, speaking to him in a soothing voice, “It’s alright. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I can’t be what you need me to be… I’m sorry I can’t feel what you want me to feel…” Duncan was sorry. Sorry in a way only a truly good and empathetic person could be for another.
Dunk held him for a long time, patiently waiting for him to calm down. Daeron finally went still and quiet in his arms. Dunk pulled back to look at him. He looked drained and exhausted, his eyes red rimmed and bloodshot from the tears and the drink, his nose tipped pink and running. In a moment of pure pity, Dunk cupped his face in both his hands and softly kissed Daeron’s forehead. Daeron sighed deeply. “You need to sleep now, Daeron. Things will look better in the morning.” He shook his head miserably, but did not fight when Dunk rose and pulled him to his feet. He was still unsteady on his feet. A trip across the castle with him in that state was out of the question, would have drawn too much attention. He would have to sleep in Dunk’s room tonight.
Duncan pulled back the blankets of his bed, sat Daeron down on the edge, and helped him pull off his boots. Daeron laid down and Dunk pulled the blanket over him, as he gazed lovingly up at Dunk. “Sleep now,” Dunk whispered softly, as he gently brushed a wayward lock of his hair back behind his ear. “I’m not going anywhere.” With this reassurance in his ear Daeron fell asleep almost instantly, drained by his emotions. Dunk sat watching him for a long while, knowing he would not sleep that night. He kept vigil, ensuring Daeron slept dreamlessly. Duncan knew that tomorrow, when Daeron woke, and realized what he did there would be sorrow, but for now, only peace.
