My Perfect Boy
Reblog first, like later please, reblogs do more
Here's who I write for
Many people in the realm knew and loved the dark haired princes, the heir, Baelor, and his son, Valarr. Everyone knew he was closest with his father. As a boy, he followed him around everywhere, always at his heels, Maekar's wife, Dyanna, affectionately called him little duckling. Nobody could hide their fond looks whenever Valarr would try to copy his father, his clothing, his speech, the way he stood. Baelor adored his son, there was no denying that, the look on his face when anyone so much as disappointed his boy would have them shaking in their boots. One night Baelor found his son in his study, passed out on one of his open books. Had he been waiting for him? When he got closer he saw that it was the book on Old Valeria he has been reading earlier, not a page changed meaning he had left the book exactly how Baelor left it. His freckled face was slightly smooshed against the pages, mismatched eyes closed lightly, his hair slightly tousled from his sleep. Baelor watched him for a minute, barely remembering the last time he'd seen his son sleep with his own matching mismatched eyes. He finally reached out, carding his fingers through his son's silver streak, watching him shiver and slowly wake up.
"Valarr..." He called softly, watching him slowly come back to his senses.
"Apologies Father, I seem to have drifted off while awaiting your presence." Valarr's voice was rough, seems he'd been asleep longer than he'd thought, as he slowly rose from his father's chair. Baelor caught his arm immediately, just incase he wasn't steady enough.
"What did you need, My Sweet Boy?" Baelor asked, voice barely above a whisper as he fussed Valarr's hair back into place.
"I wanted to know what was to be done about that hedge knight my little cousin is so fond of." Valarr rubbed his eyes, looking much younger than he was now.
"Ser Duncan is his name, Valarr, and Aerion has demanded a trial of seven." He responded, holding the back of Valarr's head, his thumb rubbing back and forth idly.
"He can never leave anything be can he?" He huffed, finding Aerion's bratty and entitled attitude agitating. He unconsciously leans into his father's touch, still not fully awake.
"I had quite the enlightening conversation with Ser Duncan earlier. I already knew Aerion was in the wrong here, but I can only protect him so much. I want to fight by his side in the trial." Valarr's eyes suddenly shot open, staring at his father in shock.
"You do not have your armor with you, Aerion had asked me to fight for him but wouldn't tell me what for so I refused. You now want to fight your nephew... for a hedge knight... armorless?" Valarr could very clearly not believe it. He knew his father well and while it made sense, it also sounded ridiculous.
"That hedge knight is one of the truest knights I have encountered in decades, I understand why Aegon has grown fond of him. Aerion is not in the right here and knowing Maekar, despite not agreeing with his son, he will still fight fiercely by his side. Ser Duncan deserves to be fought for just as hard as Aerion, and I am prepared to fight for what I think is right. You are not fighting, so I ask that you lend me your armor for this." Valarr stared at him as if he were suddenly the three headed dragon on their sigil, his armor??
"Father I am smaller than you, I do not think my armor will fit." He watched Baelor's face, how it changed to a look of fond exasperation.
"It may be a tad tight but I should be able to fit into it, you are not that much smaller than me My Boy. I think you are making excuses." Baelor lightly teased, brushing his thumb over Valarr's freckled cheek.
"You needn't worry about me My Sweet Son, I am a good fighter, I ended the Blackfire Rebellion. Aerion has three kingsgaurd on his side, they cannot harm me due to their oaths, Daeron isn't a fighter, he is only participating because his father commands it, I will focus primarily on keeping Maekar distracted so the fight will primarily be between Ser Duncan and Aerion. Maekar and I sparred regularly as boys, I know his fighting style well, everything will be alright." He soothed, trying to ease whatever worries that were swimming around his son's head. Valarr sighed, leaning against his father's desk, his brown and blue eyes clearly showing confliction.
"The armor is not what worries me Kepa, it is the helm. It won't fit you properly and there for not properly protect your head. Uncle Maekar has a mean swing, especially when he's angry. Let me fight for the hedge knight, the armor fits me like it should, after all, it is mine own, and I can fight just as well-"
"No, absolutely not. I will not have my brother and my son fighting each other, I forbid it." Baelor said firmly, not raising his voice but leaving no room to argue. He stepped in front of Valarr, cupping his son's face, his eyes portraying every emotion that thought alone brought him.
"I will fight and all will be well. Please lend me your armor, you will have it back by the next moon." Baelor pressed a kiss to Valarr's forehead, just like he did whenever he reassured him when he was little. Valarr's eyes fell shut, a huff of frustration leaving his nose. Baelor pulled his son up by the back of his neck, pulling him against him to hug him, cradling the back of his head.
"You need not stress yourself so Trēsy. I am confident, you should be too. I am your father, it is my job to worry for you, not the other way around." He slightly swayed, feeling Valarr slowly relax against him.
"Will you lend me your armor? I would much rather you give it willingly." Valarr hummed slowly, like he still didn't like the idea, Baelor could feel the discontented scrunch of his face against his shoulder.
"Princes do not pout Sweetling." Baelor chuckled, running his fingers along the back of Valarr's neck from where they were resting on the crown of his head. He felt Valarr's shoulders twitch and his nose scrunch up as his fingertips dipped below his collar.
"You never outgrew this? You both hated and loved this as a child." Baelor's amusement was evident in his voice, memories of his son as a small boy, laying his head down in his lap, giggling and whining as Baelor lightly traced his neck.
"Always made you so whiney." He sighed exaggeratedly, dragging his nails down the back of his neck, feeling his whole body shudder.
"Fahather.."
"Yes, exactly like that." He chuckled, letting himself embrace the nostalgic feeling warming his chest. He slowly realized that he hadn’t heard his son laugh passed a huff since he'd begun his transition into manhood. He hummed, low, so it rumbled through both their chests, before lightly drumming his fingers against his back ribs.
"Fahather plehehease! I aham nohot a bohoy anymohore!" He whined, clearly embarrassed as he shoved his face deeper into Baelor's shoulder.
"You will forever be my boy Valarr. And I, for one, have not yet heard you say I can borrow your armor." Baelor said in faux exasperation, curling his fingers into a claw he began spidering up and down Valarr's ribs and sides with both hands. He couldn’t fight the grin on his lips at the sound of his son's boyish giggles, his pushes doing absolutely nothing.
"FAHAHahather! Thihihis ihihihis cruhuhuel!" His back arched slightly, his feet stomping the floor as he squeezed Baelor's sleeves.
"No no, cruel is like how Maekar does it." Baelor was always a gentler touch, Maekar was always a more tickle monster type. Baelor then dug into his upper ribs like Maekar would have, chuckling at his shriek.
"AHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOHO WHYHYHY!?"
"What~? You loved this when your uncle did it, you provoked him on purpose, is that not what you are doing now~?" Baelor teased lightly, seeing Valarr's blush crawl down his neck. He let his beard brush over Valarr's ultra sensitive ear, chuckling at his week punches to his shoulders.
"OHOHOHOHOKAY ALRIHIHIHIGHT! I YIEHEHEHELD! FAHAHAHATHER, YOHOHOU CAHAHAHAN TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIT!" Baelor squeezed Valarr to him, pressing an exaggerated kiss to his cheek.
"Thank you Sweet Boy, you shall have it back on the morrow." Baelor pulled back a bit to look at him, pressing their foreheads together when he still felt his worry.
"All will be well, I will return and your armor with me... My Perfect Boy, I am very proud of the young man you've grown into, I shant make you heir to the throne so young. I intend to make you the eldest heir in Westeros' history. Till we meet again My Little Shadow, goodnight." Baelor kissed his forehead, giving him one last comforting squeeze before sending him off to bed.
"Valarr." He called out softly as he opened the door.
"Tomorrow, I swear it."
"Tomorrow... goodnight Father, I love you."
"And I you, tell me again tomorrow, when I return your armor."