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Maekar stared at his son sleeping beside him.
The child had finally calmed down. This pattern had been repeating itself for weeks. Daeron would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming and repeating incomprehensible phrases. None of the nannies could lull the crying prince back to sleep. The boy would only calm down when his omega father was right next to him. Maekar couldn't bear to see his youngest son suffering because of whatever was troubling his mind. Despite his husband's protests, Maekar decided that he would watch over their son for as long as necessary. It must’ve been his scent, dried lavender mixed with sweet, sugary notes, that was working miracles on his baby boy.
Of course, this temporary peace came at a price.
Maekar was pregnant again. He wasn't particularly surprised. Only the Seven knew what he and Baelor had been doing in between fighting the rebels. That night, it wasn't just bastard blood that stained the place now known as the Redgrass Field. They had allowed themselves to be carried away by the heat of the moment. They had to spend one last night together, just in case it would’ve been the last. At that time, they did not yet know the outcome of the battle. Fortunately, they emerged victorious, with new nicknames given and numerous stories for smallfolk to tell.
However, in the current situation, Maekar regretted it a little. The child inside him must have absorbed the madness that filled the battlefield because he was being tormented by it constantly. He had been carrying the baby for five moons now, and still felt terrible nausea every morning. He could barely swallow even the simplest meal, which constantly worried his husband. And his back? Seven, watch over him. Every time he shifted his position, he experienced agonising pain that was almost impossible to soothe. And when he thought it couldn’t get worse, there came the strange temperature fluctuations. Maekar could only bathe in boiling hot water. And everything around seemed too cold to him.
In comparison, his previous three pregnancies had seemed pretty normal, easy, even. However, he tried not to complain too much, as it would only worry Baelor even more. He was already busy with his duty as the heir to the Iron Throne, and the three little boys they already had. Maekar didn’t want to add more to his plate. Something, which Baelor would try to reason with him about. Besides, Maekar also quietly hoped that all this might mean he was finally carrying the daughter he had always wanted. Although, he kept this thought to himself.
He was laying on the bed, propped up with pillows. He hadn't slept a wink all night. The baby inside him was extremely active, and he could constantly feel its movements. What's more, Daeron was terribly restless all night. He woke up crying twice, muttering about a dead dragon, a knight, and an egg. Sometimes Maekar wished he could read his son's mind. What was tormenting his son and waking him up every night? He turned over in bed as gently as possible. He did not want to wake Daeron. He brushed the light brown hair from the boy's forehead with a gentle movement. As dawn slowly broke, Maekar hoped that peace would finally come to his son's fragile mind.
The door to the chamber opened quietly.
Maekar didn't even need to look to know who had arrived. He could sense his partner's presence anywhere. His calming, fresh scent was unmistakable. Subtle citrus, that mixed perfectly with his own lavender.
Baelor sat down gently on the edge of the bed and kissed his husband tenderly on the cheek. Maekar cupped his face in his hand. He could see concern in the man's two-coloured eyes. With a subtle nod, he indicated Daeron, who was curled up beside him. Baelor understood immediately. Whatever he had to say would have to wait until their son woke up.
⊹₊⋆ ⏾⋆.˚
“How are you feeling?” asked Baelor, who was sitting opposite Maekar.
“I already told you, I'm fine,” replied the irritated omega, stirring his porridge. He didn't feel like eating, but he knew he had to force something down. “You know what it's like keeping watch over Daeron. I'll go and rest after breakfast, I'll be alright.”
“Maekar,” Baelor began, giving his husband the most pleading look the whole Seven Kingdoms had ever seen. The prince hated, when his husband gave him those big, puppy eyes. He just couldn't resist them. “You're pregnant and you've been up half the night watching over our son. You should let me take care of it. I can see you getting more and more exhausted every day.”
“Do you think I can't take care of my own child?” the omega retorted angrily, throwing his spoon on the table. His alpha flinched at the sound. He could feel bitter tones in the usually sugary and fresh pheromones of his mate, like someone was burning lavender.
“You know very well that's not what I meant,” Baelor replied calmly, not wanting to irritate the dragon further. “I just see how much you're struggling. I don't want anything to happen to you, my dearest.”
“Fine,” Maekar replied, slowly rising from the table, supporting his aching back with his hand. He gave his husband a venomous look. "If you insist, you can stay with him tonight. I'll hide away in my nest because what else can I do?”
With that, he left the room as quickly as his pregnant belly would allow.
Baelor sighed and buried his face in his hands.
He loved his husband with all his heart, but he could be incredibly difficult when it came to their children. But this only proved how much he cared for his sons. He had witnessed how his omega responded to anyone who dared to speak against young boys. As usual, the court was upset by how little the boys looked like typical Targaryens. The white streak in Valarr's hair meant nothing to them. But it meant nothing to his brother either. It didn’t matter to him whether their children had perfect sliver heads or not. He defended his little ones like a true dragon. Baelor knew that Maekar was glad their sons resembled him.
However, Baelor hoped that their next child would be at least a little like Maekar: A little girl with hair as bright as the moon itself and eyes like shining amethysts. He could see himself and Maekar with a tiny girl in their arms. He wanted nothing more.
⊹₊⋆ ⏾⋆.˚
As soon as dusk began to fall, Baelor went to Daeron's chambers.
Maekar had been avoiding him all day, still offended by their conversation that morning. Fortunately, the alpha knew how to appease his husband. Immediately after the ill-fated meal, he visited the craftsman and ordered a magnificent dagger with a specially carved hilt for the omega. If that gift proved insufficient to appease Maekar's anger, however... Well, Baelor was prepared to spend all the gold in the royal treasury on him if necessary.
The guards assigned to Daeron's rooms for the night were already standing outside. They bowed at the sight of the heir to the throne approaching. He nodded to them and entered the room.
Inside, he found maids preparing the bedroom for the night. One was carefully arranging the bedding, while the other was attempting to change the little prince's clothes. At the sight of Baelor, they both immediately bowed.
“You may retire to your chambers for the night,” he said with a smile. “I will take care of my son myself tonight.”
“As you wish, Your Grace,” The women bowed again and quickly left the room, seemingly afraid to be near the heir to the Iron Throne.
Baelor quickly changed his son into a nightgown and gently laid him in bed.
At first glance, Daeron seemed to be almost asleep. His violet eyes closed with each passing minute. Baelor lay down beside him, releasing calming pheromones. The little boy snuggled into his pillow, inhaling his father's scent. For a moment, there was peace. Baelor himself began to slowly fall asleep, his thoughts still circling around his husband, who was curled up in their nest.
But sleep did not come.
Suddenly, Daeron began to scream. His words were jumbled and meaningless. The scream was immediately followed by a piercing sob.
Baelor jumped up and embraced the wailing child. He held the terrified boy close, quietly humming an old Valyrian lullaby in the hope that it would calm him. To no avail. Daeron continued to sob as if unaware of the world around him. Baelor got out of bed, still holding his son, and began to pace the room, continuing to hum the lullaby.
For the next few hours, there was a constant cycle of crying and futile attempts to calm the child. Baelor felt helpless as he watched his exhausted son sob. He wanted to relieve his suffering somehow, but nothing he tried worked. All he could do was hold Daeron, hoping it would bring him some comfort.
He gently ran his fingers through his son's fluffy hair. His sobs slowly subsided, but Baelor knew there was nothing to be happy about. When Daeron had nightmares, the calm never lasted long. The child leaned against his shoulder, seemingly exhausted from constant crying. Seeing his tired, reddened face, marked by intense tears, caused Baelor pain. The maesters were still searching for a solution, maybe a potion that would calm the princeling, even if only for a few hours. So far, their efforts had been fruitless, but the heir to the throne tried not to lose hope. He believed that one day they’ll find someone, who could help their son. With this thought in mind, he gently kissed the child's head.
Suddenly, the room was filled with a familiar scent. The scent of dried lavender mingled with the sweetness of sugar.
Maekar.
Omega slowly sat down beside him and immediately turned his attention to their son. Sensing his omega father's scent, the child began to struggle out of alpha's arms. Baelor did not protest. Instead, he placed Daeron between himself and his husband, making sure that the boy did not accidentally kick Maekar in his pregnant stomach. The child immediately snuggled up to his omega parent, slowly closing his eyes. The white-haired man said nothing, he simply began stroking his son's back and gently released calming pheromones. In the blink of an eye, Daeron fell asleep.
“You should rest,” whispered Baelor, looking at his husband resting on the pillows. 'I'll stay with him. You need to take care of yourself, my dearest.”
“I know you're worried,” Maekar replied, taking his husband's hand as he always had. “And maybe… rightly so. I can see how this little one affects me. But I can also see that our son is suffering. If my presence can bring him even a little relief, then so be it.”
“I don't want anything to happen to you, Maekar. I can't lose you. Not now, not ever,” Baelor squeezed the omega's hand. “You didn't have to come. I could have stayed with him until morning so that you could rest.”
“You have duties to the Iron Throne. To our father, the King. You can't sit up all night with a crying child that you can't help,” Maekar replied solemnly. His face remained stone cold, though his eyes expressed a million emotions.
“What about my duty to you? Or to our children? I can't just leave everything to you. I don’t care if you have servants to help. You're my partner, Maekar. My omega. No throne is more important than you.” said Baelor solemnly.
He knew that if their father heard this, he would give a long-winded speech about service to the Iron Throne and the importance of their duty. Things that the heir understood perfectly. And when his time comes, he’ll take the Throne and fulfill his duty as the king of Seven Kingdoms. But at that moment, Baelor's whole world was his wonderful pregnant omega and their beautiful children.
“One day, the Maesters will find a cure for him. And everything will be fine,” Maekar replied quietly, seemingly ignoring his husband's confession. However, it had moved him, a blush appeared on his cheeks. “For now, let me take care of Daeron. You take care of our father and his orders. Take care of Valarr, introduce him to the court. We'll manage somehow.”
“Let me stay here with you. Even if it's just for a few nights. If not for you, then for my own peace of mind.” Baelor pleaded, looking imploringly at his husband.
“All right. Just a few nights. I'll decide which ones.” Maekar agreed, weak to his husband's big eyes.
“And when our daughter is born, you will let me help. No discussion,” Baelor stated firmly. He knew how his omega was with his newborn children. No maid or nanny was allowed close to them, for a few first moons, at least.
“Daughter?” Maekar asked, with an unusual gleam in his eyes.
“A daughter. With hair as bright as the moon and eyes sparkling like crystals. Just like yours,” whispered Baelor, kissing his husband's hand.
They spent the night quietly discussing the future, occasionally soothing their sleeping child. Soon, however, fatigue overtook them as well. For the first time in many moons, the night in the castle was peaceful.