Chapter Text
Aerion had known from the beginning that his father would not let him go alone.
A cross city business trip. meetings, formal dinners, faces he had to remember the names of. Maekar called it responsibility and Aerion called it a waste of time. Whatever the term, one thing was clear his father did not trust Aerion to take care of himself.
“Not a request,” Maekar said that morning. “You will be escorted.”
And that was how the tall man named Duncan was standing behind him now.
“My name is Duncan,” he said briefly. No excessive bowing, nor forced familiarity. His posture was upright, neat, like someone accustomed to receiving orders and not asking many questions. “I am assigned to accompany you during this trip.”
Aerion glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Too tall. Too… irritating.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” he said coldly while grabbing his coat.
“Alright,” Duncan replied without hesitation. “I am not a babysitter.”
That answer was somehow more irritating than a rebuttal.
They walked out together. Aerion in front, his steps fast and full of impatience. Duncan followed behind him at a consistent distance, not pressing, not disappearing. Like a shadow that knew exactly how far it was allowed to exist.
“I said don’t touch me,” Aerion said suddenly, without turning around.
Duncan paused for a moment. “I had no intention of doing so.”
“You look like you want to.”
“No,” Duncan answered calmly. “You look like you are about to fall.”
Aerion turned sharply. Their gazes met for a moment, long enough to make something in Aerion’s chest harden.
“I’m fine.”
“Alright,” Duncan said again. Always that word.
The front door opened before Aerion could step any further.
“Wait-.”
The small voice made Aerion snort softly. “aren’t you supposed to be at school by now?”
Egg or Aegon stood in the doorway with his school bag on his back, neat and overly ready. Behind him, one of the household staff looked nervous, clearly because of seeing aerion who was irritable in the morning.
“Father said,” Egg said casually, “you guys have to take me to school first before leaving.”
Aerion let out a long breath. Of course Maekar would slip that in. There was always one extra thing. Such a hassle.
Egg stepped closer, then stopped between them. He looked up, studying Duncan without hesitation, from his shoes to his face.
“Do you like my bodyguard?” he asked suddenly, innocently.
Aerion turned quickly. “What? No. And why would you even ask that?”
Egg looked at him for a moment, then shifted his gaze to Duncan. “He’s not actually your bodyguard.”
Aerion frowned. “Huh?”
“He’s my personal guard,” Egg continued casually. “Father just said he’s also escorting you. Because you’re stubborn.”
Aerion snorted. “And what’s my problem exactly?”
Egg shrugged, too lazy to elaborate. “I don’t know.”
He glanced at Duncan again, then looked back at Aerion.
"He’s big,” he said finally. “And he doesn’t look scared of you.”
Aerion opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again. For the first time that morning, he truly looked at Duncan.
Duncan did not return the look. His gaze was straight ahead, his expression neutral, controlled, somehow irritating.
Aerion suddenly really wanted to slap his face.
Egg gave a small grin. Not a wide smile, just a slight curve at the corner of his lips. As if he had just found something interesting.
Aerion felt heat rise to his face. “What is that face?”
“Nothing,” Egg answered quickly. “I’m just curious.”
About what, Aerion did not want to know.
“It’s time for us to leave, young master,” Duncan said, breaking the conversation between the brothers. “If you don’t want to be late.”
Aerion snorted, then walked ahead toward the car.
---
The car moved slowly, leaving the house yard.
Egg sat in the back seat, his seatbelt not yet fastened, his legs swinging casually. Aerion sat in the front seat, staring straight at the road with a flat expression that was clearly forced. Duncan sat in the driver’s seat, beside him.
Several seconds passed in silence.
“Father said,” Egg said suddenly from the back, “you shouldn’t drive yourself today. Duncan will do it.”
“I know,” Aerion replied shortly.
“Because you like to speed when you’re annoyed.”
Aerion glanced at the rearview mirror. “I’m not annoyed.”
Egg did not reply.
The car stopped in front of the school gate. Egg opened the door before it had fully stopped.
“Oh yeah,” he said while half turning back, “don’t mess with my bodyguard.”
Aerion snorted. “Since when do I mess with people?”
Egg shrugged, too lazy to explain. “Since forever.”
The door closed. Egg left without looking back.
Silence.
The car engine started running again. No radio. No polite conversation. Only the sound of the road and breathing that was too aware of its own presence.
Aerion leaned his head back against the seat. “So,” he said at last, “you’re my brother’s personal guard.”
“Yes,” Duncan answered.
His tone did not change. Still flat. Still calm.
“And now you’re assigned to follow me too.”
“Yes.”
Aerion let out a quiet breath. “My father is excessive.”
“He is simply being cautious.”
“That’s a polite way of saying I can’t be trusted?”
Duncan was silent for a moment. “He wants you to arrive safely.”
Aerion let out a small laugh, humorless. “That makes it sound like I’m a delivery package.”
Duncan did not argue. But he did not agree either.
The car slowed at a red light. Duncan glanced over briefly.
“Your seatbelt is not fastened,” he said.
Aerion clicked his tongue, but still pulled the belt and fastened it. “Satisfied?”
“Thank you.”
The sentence was simple. But somehow, it made Aerion feel like he had just done something acknowledged.
The light turned green. The car moved again.
Aerion stared ahead, then spoke softly, almost as if talking to himself, “If you’re here just because of duty… don’t interfere in my business.”
Duncan did not answer immediately.
“I am here to escort,” he said at last. “just that."
Aerion glanced at him quickly, then looked back at the road.
“Good.”
---
That night should have ended much earlier.
Aerion stood too long beneath the white lights of the conference room, listening to people speak in the same tone, about numbers, deals, and smiles that never reached their eyes. His hand had shaken too many times, his head filled with names he would not remember tomorrow morning. Every laugh sounded fake. Every compliment felt like an extra burden.
When he finally stepped outside, the night air did not immediately help.
His head felt light... too light. The parking lot lights formed faint lines in his vision, flaring briefly before snapping back into focus. Aerion stopped for a moment, drew in a deep breath, then gave a small shake of his head as if he could drive the feeling away.
“I’m driving,” he said as soon as he reached the car.
Duncan turned his head. “I will.”
“I said I’m driving.”
Aerion’s tone was not loud, but firm enough to close the discussion. He reached for the driver’s door, his hand missing the handle slightly.
Duncan caught the movement.
“Not tonight,” he said, still calm.
Aerion turned sharply. “You think I’m drunk?”
“No,” Duncan replied. “I think you’re tired.”
"I’m fine.”
His head throbbed faintly, a small warning he deliberately ignored.
Duncan stepped between Aerion and the car door.
“If anything happens on the road,” Duncan continued quietly, “it will be my responsibility.”
Aerion clicked his tongue. “Always about responsibility.”
“because that is the risk of my job, and I have to keep you safe.”
A few seconds passed. The parking lot lights hummed softly. Aerion let out a long breath, then released his grip on the door.
“whatever,” he said while walking to the other side of the car.
Duncan did not respond. He simply opened the driver’s door and sat down, his movements neat and measured.
The car moved slowly away from the building.
In the passenger seat, Aerion leaned his head against the headrest. His vision blurred for a moment before he forced his eyes shut. His head felt full, like it was being struck from the inside.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said suddenly.
“I am not looking,” Duncan replied.
“You know what I mean.”
Duncan slowed down slightly as they entered the main road. “You should rest.”
“I am not sick.”
“Alright.”
That answer again.
Aerion let out a small dry laugh. “You are annoying.”
“My duty.”
Silence filled the car again. City lights passed one by one, slower now. Aerion rubbed his temple, then stopped when the dizziness came back.
He did not say anything else.
The car moved steadily along the increasingly empty road. The city was slowly left behind, replaced by sparse lights and the slow shifting shadows of trees.
Aerion opened his eyes halfway. His head still felt heavy, but the dizziness turned into a dull hum just enough to let his thoughts drift without fully focusing.
“Events like that,” he said suddenly, without turning, “always end with the same question.”
Duncan glanced briefly. “What question?”
“When are you getting married,” Aerion answered shortly. He snorted softly. “Or at least, with whom.”
Duncan did not respond immediately. “That topic comes up often.”
“For them, maybe,” Aerion continued. His voice was lower now, not as sharp as before. “As if life is just a checklist that has to be completed.”
He shifted slightly in his seat, resting his head against the window. The reflection of his face appeared faintly in the glass.
“Have you ever fallen in love?” he asked suddenly.
The question slipped out just like that. Even Aerion himself seemed slightly surprised to hear it.
Duncan was silent for a moment, then answered in a tone that remained light. “I have.”
“Oh,” Aerion said. “Who?”
“A girl,” Duncan said. “Quite tall. Her name is Tanselle.”
He said it carefully, as if the name had not been spoken in a long time.
“We dated for quite a while,” he continued. “But it turned out we were not very compatible. Our ways of seeing things were different.”
"And you ended it,” Aerion said.
“We did,” Duncan corrected. “Not one sided, at least we ended it on good terms.”
The car passed a long curve. Duncan continued, still calm, as if telling something he had already made peace with.
“Now we are friends. She is an art teacher at young master Aegon’s school.”
Aerion turned slowly. Looked at Duncan, this time without sharpness. Just… assessing.
“Interesting,” he said. “It sounds too mature.”
Duncan smiled faintly, almost invisible. “Maybe because that is what suited us better.”
A few seconds passed. Aerion looked back out the window.
“I am not sure I will get a choice like that,” he said afterward.
Duncan did not interrupt.
“Maybe I will be arranged,” Aerion continued. “With my cousins.”
He laughed softly, the tone slanted—like mocking something he had heard for far too long.
“After all,” he said, “we are Targaryen.”
The sentence sounded light.
Duncan did not answer right away. He waited until the road straightened again.
“Not all traditions have to be continued,” he said at last, carefully.
Aerion turned, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Are you advising me now?”
“No,” Duncan replied quickly. “I am just listening.”
Aerion looked at him for a few seconds, then snorted softly. “Hmmm.”
He leaned his head back again. His eyes closed once more, this time longer.
“Strange,” he murmured half aware. “I do not even remember when the last time I talked about this was.”
Duncan slowed the car a little.
“Sometimes people talk,” he said quietly, “when they are too tired to pretend.”
Aerion did not answer.
His breathing was more regular now, though his face was still tense.
Aerion did not fall asleep right away. Even though it seemed like he needed to.
His eyes were closed, but his brow was still slightly furrowed. His breathing was slow, not fully steady, a sign that his body was beginning to give in while his mind drifted everywhere without permission.
Streetlights reflected across his face every few seconds.
“Duncan,” he murmured suddenly.
Duncan turned slightly. “Yes?”
“I hate those events,” Aerion said softly. “Standing, smiling, talking just enough. As if I am a display that can be moved around.”
Duncan did not interrupt.
“My father always says it is part of responsibility,” Aerion continued. “Funny. Everything I did not choose is always called responsibility.”
He shifted his head slightly against the headrest, then stopped, as if the dizziness came and went.
“I mean, he has many children right? He could have sent daeron to events like that.”
A few seconds of silence.
“If dragons still existed in this world,” he said suddenly, without opening his eyes, “I would keep one.”
Duncan blinked. “A dragon?”
“Yes,” Aerion answered. “A big one. With wings. One that could burn anything if it wanted to.”
He let out a short breath. “I would not cage it. No chains. It would be free to do whatever it wanted.”
Duncan held back a smile. “You like dragons?”
Aerion opened one eye, staring blankly ahead. “Why should anyone *not* like dragons?”
The tone was flat, as if the question itself was absurd.
“They are strong,” he continued. “They do not ask for permission. They do not need to explain themselves to anyone.”
The car moved steadily, the sound of the engine becoming the only accompaniment.
“They live on their own terms,” Aerion murmured. “And people will still be afraid… or in awe.”
Duncan was quiet for a moment. “It sounds like a lonely creature.”
Aerion snorted softly. “Stupid.”
“Dragons are not lonely,” he said quietly. “They just do not like crowds.”
He fell silent again, then added for no clear reason, “If I had a dragon, no one would dare tell me to marry anyone or do anything.”
The sentence came out lightly from Aerion’s mouth
Aerion’s breathing began to slow. His shoulders dropped little by little. His head tilted unconsciously toward the window.
“Duncan,” he murmured once more, almost inaudible.
“Yes?”
“You would not cage a dragon, right?”
Duncan answered without thinking too long. “It seems not.”
“Good,” Aerion said faintly.
A few seconds later, he truly fell asleep.
Duncan glanced over briefly, making sure of it. The streetlights reflected again on Aerion’s face, now calm, no longer tense like before.
Aerion was not talking about dragons.
He was talking about himself.