Work Text:
The mood around Summerhall is almost suffocating with an agonizing depression in the wind. Everyone knows that Aerion has lost the second child, and they can feel his anger and agonizing grief through the walls. The man haunts the hallways and most try to give a comforting word or two before running when it seems only to aggravate the prince more. The sight of him is haunting, he’s more skinny than usual from his neglect of eating and the darkness beneath his eyes make those violet eyes far more striking than usual.
Dunk was there, the stillborn daughter in Aerion's arm that looked so much like a dragon. He had seen the prince's hands shake for once as he just stared.. and stared.. at the corpse in his hands. Dunk can still hear how he screamed and nearly fought the doctor when they had to take the child away. It was a scene that made Dunks' heart break.. not just for the loss of their daughter but at how Aerion had broken too. He could hardly move himself when it all happened, that day more so a blur besides that moment now.
It’s been months and Aerion has only gotten worse than anyone has seen him. Daeron had mumbled something about a dragon fury burning itself in one of his dreams.. dunk could only shift uncomfortably in his stance.
Most avoid him and if they have to be near him they’re quick to get away. Whatever has to be done or said is done in a quick manner before darting out of the room before the prince could find something to be aggravated over.
Dunk sighs as he sits in his bed, it’s not often he has the nights off, but his exhaustion is getting to him too. He won’t admit it but his mind has been like static since all of this. Aerion's behavior and the loss of their daughter makes his heart shatter. Whenever he comes near aerion his scent sours and smells of ash.. it makes Dunk's nose wrinkle.
But somedays it is only him that goes near Aerion, urging him to eat or drink, all while the prince sneers and hurls whatever insult he thinks of that day. It’s an exhausting cycle as he tries to make sure Aerion is fine even when the man is failing to take care of himself. The servants can only do so much and he hardly listen to them at all. So the servants turn to dunk.. and it works occasionally. Yet not too much, the dragon does as he pleases and doesn’t do what’s asked from anyone.
Today was one of those days where he had to give the prince a plate of food to eat. Yet Aerion was silent, he didn’t even give Dunk a glance nor the food. An odd silence before he eventually told Dunk to get away.
Now Dunk lies in his own bed tonight, the sun finally going down on another heart heavy day, and yet there can never be a simple relaxing moment. He hears his door open just a smidge, and he cannot help the sigh he lets out. He assumes it’s their son, Maegor, so he tilts his head with his eyes still closed.
“Maegor.. boy, you need to rest in your bed.” He mutters as he sighs, wishing the boy could rest easily. Their son has been restless as of late and with the neglect of Aerion.. even the son is suffering. It’s not every night but it’s beginning to be a common occurrence when he comes in with tears in his eyes. The son has been clinging more to him or even one of Aerions brothers since Aerion is absent and hostile even towards him.
But he hears no reply and the footsteps are far too quiet, far too much stealth in those steps for a young boy. When he opens his eyes.. he almost jolts in shock. Aerion is there, his eyes bloodshot and his silk gown is a bit messy with wrinkles and splots of something poured upon him. Gods, he can’t even smell Aerion's own scent over the wine coming from him.
Dunk is about to sit up, demand that he explain what’s happening, but Aerion is quicker. He’s scrambling on top of him.. his small form sitting right on dunks waist line while his hands go to dunks chest. He’s leaning over him yet keeping himself from collapsing on top of him with his hands on his chest.
“Aerion? What are you doing?” Dunk finally gets the words out as he shifts so his pillows can prop him up a bit, his hands hesitant on where to go. Aerion leans just slightly to the side and Dunks hands rush to his waist to steady him, as Aerion then leans forward.
“Again..” Aerion mutters as his forehead clinks against Dunks. His hands running down and resting on his shoulders as he bends on his elbows.
The scent of wine is almost suffocating as Dunk's hands move to his shoulders, trying to push Aerion up so he can meet those violet eyes. He can tell he’s cried, he’s a silent crier, but those eyes are bloodshot. His pupils are more dilated than ever as well. Gods, dunk wishes whatever is happening right now would cease.
“Again? Again what?” Dunk questions as Aerion keeps trying to lean forward but his body is weak under the influence. His hands keep moving wherever they can perch, his nails digging into Dunks sleeping cloth. Dunk doesn’t have to put too much strength into holding him up right at least.
“Again.. let’s try again..” he mutters again, his words slurred and his eyes keep trying to pinpoint on dunks eyes but keep sliding to his lips. His body is more warmer than ever and his mind is a slug, he hates the feeling, but it’s far better than the screaming and straining.
“Try what?” Dunk asks once more. He doesn’t understand.. thick as a wall they say and he fears he’s proving it right now.
Aerion grunts and he seems to sneer but looks more like a pout. His hips stutter against Dunk's lap, and when Dunk's hands move to grab his hips to stop the movement, he leans down and his face rubs against Dunk's neck. The feeling of Aerion straddling him and those hips moving makes his body want to return the movement but he fights it. Something is off about all of this and as much as Dunk wants to give him he feels he might regret it.
“Again.. a child, again.. this one will live. She won’t soar.. good little dragon.” Aerion's eyes shut as he nuzzles into Duncan's neck, his hands going to Duncan’s chest once more as he grabs ahold of his shirt more tightly. His strength is lax but he’s doing all he can.
That’s when it crumbles in Dunks heart when he realizes what Aerion is speaking about, what he wants so bad. Dunk tries to tilt his head away but Aerion is persistent as his face finds its place in the crook of his neck. It seems no matter what dunk does Aerion is melting into him one way or another, his skin will find his.
“We cannot.. Aerion, it’s.. We cannot.” His voice sounds strained as he tries to reason. He hates declining his omega, his prince, but he knows it won’t be good. Something in his heart tells him that if he gave him what he wanted it would destroy Aerion even more so than he is now.
Aerion's nails dig into him with the way he grabs the front of his tunic. “Can feel you..” His words are off and short, devoid of his usual manner.
He tries to move his hips again but Dunk halts the movement as he applied more pressure to his hips, a groan coming from Aerion in response. Dunk cannot deny he wants this, that he misses the feeling of Aerion on his body, and giving the prince all he wants. But he simply cannot.
Then it’s all quiet.. Aerion's face is buried in his neck with no fight from his body or words coming.. dunk is almost unsettled. Theres no fight, no harsh words, no nothing from the dragon in his arms.
“Aerion?” He eventually questions quietly but Aerion doesn’t say anything as his body nearly goes lax on top of him. He tries to tilt his head to meet his face but it’s difficult.. he wants to make sense of this but he cannot.
He feels a wetness on his neck, not similar to something he’s used to, but he hears no noises nor any shaking from his shoulders. When Aerion cries it’s simple and done, no noise and no tremble, it’s unsettling to dunk. His arms move to embrace the little dragon in his arms, his one hand resting on the back of his head as he strokes the white hair that’s growing out a bit more than usual. He hears no sniffle nor any harsh gasps but he can feel the wetness dripping onto his neck.
He knows Aerion would not appreciate words of comfort, so he stays silent and merely holds him. The guilt in his gut is heavy but not enough to give in to what Aerion wants. What if that child is stillborn too? Gods Aerion would break, he can see it. The rage would be frightening and the grief would fully consume him whole.
What if the child was born well? He cannot even fathom that going good as well. He’s hardly treating the one son they have now good, how can another on top of the grief help him?
Aerion's body slumps fully eventually, collapsing on top of dunk and his breathing is relaxed. His nails no longer digging into Dunk like an angry dragon trying to grab onto whatever he wants. He sighs as he rubs the little dragons' backs while trying to eventually fall asleep himself.
The next morning he isn’t surprised that Aerion is gone from his arms, that it seems as if the grief-stricken prince had never came to him in the night. The only sign that he did is the way his scent still clings onto him like a suffocating cloud. Yet the sun rises and time goes on as he goes through his morning routine like usual.. getting ready, knightly dressed, and prepared for whatever way this day goes. In the back of his mind, he wonders if he should seek Aerion out, to see if he’s okay. Most days if you go near him he’s ready to spew anything rude or even lunge at you. Yet what happened the night before is making him concerned.
He had walked down the hall to their son, not that anyone knows that Dunk is the father, but still he always checks on the boy in the morning. Usually, a glance through the door as the servants wake him up and get him ready. But instead, he creaks the door open to a sight he didn’t expect at all.
Aerion is sitting in one of the chairs by the fire while their son sits in his lap, leaning against him with his head on his chest. It’s funny, seeing such a tall boy curling up on his father, yet also a sad sight. Dunk had opened the door, and Aerion knew he was standing there, but neither one of them say anything for a little bit.
Their son is asleep and curled up against him while Aerion is staring at the flames as if they’ll give him the answer to all he needs. His eyes are bloodshot but his scent is more relaxing, more to its normal smell, yet still a hint of a musty ash clinging. Dunk is happy to no longer smell the scent of wine clinging to him though.
“He was crying in his sleep,” Aerion mutters, seeming so far away, as Dunk takes that as a sign he’s allowed in. He shuts the door behind him as he walks to his side, looking down at both of them. Maegor looks Targaryen fully with the white hair and purple eyes, yet his body screams common strength. He’s tall for his age and more bulky than usual Targaryen children. He seems content in his father’s arms, fast asleep, and for once not also miserably upset.
Aerion has been a disaster in emotions these past few months but so has Maegor. He hadn’t expected it but.. Maegor has cried more than usual and seems in no mood to do anything as well. He at least doesn’t lash out like Aerion, instead he goes quiet. Dunk has tried to lighten the boys mood when he can, but even then it’s difficult somedays.
“..it’s not the first. He usually comes to my room at night, all tears.” Dunk admits to Aerion. This is so far the most he has spoken to him in months and he cannot even begin to understand what’s happening in Aerion's mind.
Aerion's hand moves through their son’s hair, carding through it, as he finally looks at Dunk. “He shouldn’t be crying.. he’s a young boy, he needs to behave like a man soon.” He speaks evenly until his voice cracks at the end yet he ignores it as he clears his throat. He’s trying hard not to think of their daughter. How she never had the chance to even cry, and never will have the chance to grow.
Dunk's eyebrows furrow a bit at the words spoken. He wants to point out that Aerion cried last night, that he needs to be kinder, the boy is still young.. but all those words die on his lips. The usual urge to banter, to prove him wrong, is dead on his tongue as he looks at those miserable violet eyes. Does Aerion even realize how pitiful he looks? His eyes are glossy and his lip almost seems to pout.
“He’s.. still growing. Give him time.” He still defends their son but not as vehemently. Which Aerion merely grunts at before looking down at their son. Holding him makes the heat underneath his skin simmer and his mind quiet just a bit. His silver son, the one who breathes and lives strongly. The son that feels much more than a dragon should but Aerion is in no mood to parent. He merely holds him as he closes his eyes and rests his cheek against the top of his son’s head.
Dunk knows he needs to get a move on, he has other plans for the day with Egg, but it’s hard to move away from the man he loves and their child. But duty is duty.. still, he takes a step forward as he places a hand on his son’s shoulder and leans down to kiss Aerion's temple whilst squeezing his son’s shoulder.
Aerion huffs but for once doesn’t tell him to cease his foolish affection so he’ll take it as a win. Their son’s hand merely twitches as his face tilts more into Aerions chest. He stands then with a small smile as he lets go of his son, stepping back once just to look at the sight of them. Then he’s gone.. but in the back of his mind, he thinks of how content Aerion has looked for once in months while their son is resting peacefully.