A Knight Who Remembered His Vows // Ser Duncan the Tall // Part One
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four
Summary: After the Trial of Seven, a fatally injured Prince Baelor makes one final request to secure his bastard daughters safety.
Warnings: Violence and injury, Fem!reader, Character death
Word Count: 1.5k
It had been barely a week since the Trial of the Seven at Ashford Meadows and your father had yet to recover. Your half-brother, Valarr, stayed by his side as often as he could, but sometimes that role fell to you. Every time your Uncle Maekar walked past your fathers’ rooms you could only cast him a sorrowful glance. You laid all blame at your cousins’ feet, grateful that he had been sent away and you were unable to do anything foolish that would likely get you killed. The knight that your father believed in so fiercely rarely dared to show his face but when he did the bruises and lacerations made you recoil in shock. Baelor noticed this and wrongly assumed it was because you blamed the hedge knight for what had happened.
“Of course I don’t blame the man, he just looks so troubled. And those injuries, oh father.” You looked down at your clasped hands and shuffled forward so you could place them upon your fathers. His fingers were limp and cool beneath yours and every now and again they would tremble involuntarily.
“He is a good man, my darling. He will take care of you.” A coughing fit forced Baelor to double up; as he lifted his head you saw the foul yellow stain on his pillow and smelled the rot beneath the bandages. Once he settled back down into the bed you cast a look at his face and were struck with the realisation that he knew. He was dying.
“I do not need a noble hedge knight to take care of me, my lord.” A small smile tugged at your lips as your father attempted to roll his bloodshot eyes.
“I know, my little wilding, but I will be at peace knowing that you have someone there if you need them.”
You nodded in acquiescence, making an attempt to hide your intention to leave House Targaryen and travel to some unfamiliar land where no one knew you as the heir to the throne’s bastard daughter. Unbeknownst to you, Baelor saw through this small gesture, the man had you legitimatised, raised you, and insisted that you stay by his side regardless of your title. You were his daughter and he cherished you just as much, if not more, than his sons. He watched you blink away the tears in your eyes and a plan began to form in his barely working mind.
“Where is my nephew? I would like to see him.” Your fathers sudden change in tone and topic had you furrowing your brow in confusion. “Go and fetch Aegon please my darling, we have much to discuss.”
Still confused, but assuming this impulsive request was a symptom of your fathers’ worsening condition, you bent down to kiss his icy hands and left him to find Egg, knowing that he would inevitably be somewhere muddy, with a horse and that impossibly tall friend of his.
* * *
As expected, your young cousin was prancing about at the bottom of an embankment with the beautiful bay horse you had come to know was called Thunder.
“Egg!”
“Cousin!” his little bald head whipped round to face you and a smile lit up his features as he watched you clamber down the bank, muddying your skirts without care.
“Hello, my sweet boy, how is his training coming along?” You moved towards the horse and rested a shaky palm on his broad neck. It grounded you enough that you were able to face Egg with a smile.
“He’s really getting it now! Watch this!” Egg’s keen enthusiasm was a pleasant distraction as he shouted at the horse and encouraged it forward with a wave of his hands and a light smack on its flank. Thunder took off at speed, his tail swishing happily behind him. An airy chuckle left you and your chest lightened at the look of sheer joy on your young cousins’ face.
“Brilliant work, Egg, you are a fine squire.” A light blush coloured the boys’ cheeks at your praise. You didn’t want to dampen his good mood, but your father requested his presence and the Seven only knew how much time he had left, you didn’t want to keep him waiting. “Your uncle has asked to see you. Would you like me to accompany you?”
Egg’s smile dropped and he shook his head. “I can go on my own, stay with Thunder, please.”
You watched as the boy scrambled back up to the castle, your own brow crumpling with concern. You were hoping he’d ask you to go with him, so that you might get some idea as to what your father wanted, you were sure you’d find out eventually. It was not often that Egg kept things from you.
Lingering while Thunder grazed on some nearby meadowsweet, you perched on a rock and sat in silent contemplation. The imminent death of your beloved father was hard to face, so instead you distracted yourself with thoughts of the grand adventure that awaited you outside of Targaryen walls. Your racing mind meant you were oblivious to the swearing, panting arrival of Ser Duncan the Tall.
“Do you want a clobber round the ear boy, you said you were - my lady! I do apologise, I did not realise you were ‘ere. I mean…I-”. The man’s bumbling apology brought you back to your body and you stood quickly from your rocky perch.
“Sorry Ser, I did not mean to interrupt Thunder’s training, it’s just that my father wished to speak to Egg.” You kept your eyes lowered, not wishing to stare at the poor man’s injuries and make him self-conscious.
“Thunder? You know his name?” Dunk’s good eye widened at this realisation as he twisted to gesture towards the stallion. You finally risked a glance up at the towering knight.
“Oh yes, Egg talks of him very fondly. I’ve heard all about him, and Chestnut” you added on sheepishly. Dunk gaped at your familiarity. Imagine that, a princess, knowing about his horses.
“Ser Duncan, Ser Duncan! You’ll never believe-” Stopping midsentence, Egg skidded to a halt as he reached you, startled as though he didn’t think you’d still be there.
“Well lad? I’ll never believe what?” Dunk raised his eyebrows and placed his large hands on his hips expectantly.
“Nothing.”
Shifting your eyes between your young cousin and his knight, you watched as Egg tilted his head in your direction, making some kind of gesture towards you while maintaining eye contact with Ser Duncan. Both you and the hedge knight looked bewildered at the excited child. Egg snatched at the piece of grass you had been plucking between your fingers and threw it away.
“Uncle Baelor said to send you straight back once I returned. Off you go, cousin.” Tiny fingers manhandled you into standing and you felt a small shove on your rear as he pushed you back towards the castle. You threw one last puzzled look at the boy before gathering your skirts and making your way back to your father. How odd, you thought.
* * *
It was barely a day later when a Septa entered your chambers with a collection of materials for sewing, you didn’t question this as you were often taught such things at Prince Baelor’s request.
“Stand up girl, we don’t have time to waste.”
“I’m sorry Septa, what is going on?”
“We must prepare your dress, and we must be quick about it too, according to the Prince.”
That made even less sense to you, but you stood anyway, lifted your arms and widened your stance when instructed. It didn’t escape your attention that the material she was draping over you was ivory, not the red or black you had come to expect.
After what felt like hours of being pinched, poked, and prodded the Septa ushered you from your chambers and towards those of your father. Unease began to twist your insides, surely what appeared to be happening, could not actually happen. With no idea what was awaiting you inside your fathers’ chambers, you followed the Septa, anxiously chewing on your lower lip.
“My darling, I am so glad I get to see this moment.” A harsh wheeze followed your fathers greeting and as your eyes met his, you understood. Next to Prince Baelor’s bed stood an elderly Septon and the hedge knight. You had been hopeful that you wouldn’t be watching your father burn atop a funeral pyre today, but you hadn’t considered that his final act would be marrying you to the man for whom he had risked his life. You instantly searched the room for your little cousin, naturally he was all smiles and bouncing feet and you couldn’t help but glare at the tiny traitor. Baelor interrupted your ire by calling you forward, a twitch of his fingers was all he could manage now, the life was leaving him. It was as though seeing you wedded to Ser Duncan would give him enough peace to end his suffering. The thought made you utter a great choking sob as you fell onto your father’s chest.
“You will both be protected by this, my darling.” He whispered gently. It gave you the resolve you needed.
