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Dunk knew from day one that his Alpha husband would waste zero time to pup him. And now, 5 years later, he had 4 pups with number 5 on the way.
However, he had not solely given birth to his Mate's pups.
Baelon, Maegar, and Aerlan were Baelor's. The mismatched eyes and Dornish features spoke for themselves. Their scents also held the hint of lemons, the very fruit that grew in Sunspear.
But Lucerys did not share the same Sire. He was born from the seed of the Anvil, conceived during a wild night at Summerhall once the time of draught had subsided and things were returning to normal. Little Luke had his Carrier's eyes, but his Sire's hair and nose. He also carried that hint of rowan of mountain ash, the same trees that grew in the area of Summerhall.
His Grace knew the 3rd boy was not his, but cared for the babe anyway.
"The boy is of Targaryen seed. It does not matter which Targaryen Alpha fathers a child on you, its the fact that they are blood of the dragon that counts, my sweet." was what the man had told his wife.
His Alpha's arms were protectively wrapped around his growing stomach, wanting to shield the unborn pup from unknown threats to its existance.
The Flea Bottom orphan purred appreciatively.
He had not been welcomed with open arms. The previous King had hated the fact that his heir had randomly picked up a common-born Omega and mated them without Royal permission.
Not that a Prince of Dragonstone needed permission from the crown to marry.
But the nobles disliked the young brunet from the start, as they did not like what he represented.
The former hedge knight stood symbol for the smallfolk being capable of rising high in society if one had the right connections or was in the right place at the right time. He was the symbol of love breaking the barriers of class, of how the existing feudal system could be challenged.
He stood symbol of their lazy power. He was the slap of reality in their face.
And if it was one thing noble lords who were hungry for power did not like, it was reality.
It did not help either that he turned out to be rather fertile.
Infertility was a taboo among nobles. They could easily dismiss a Queen who could not bear children.
But Duncan had been pregnant 3 times in the last 5 years, and now in the early stages of his 4th pregnancy.
The King's hand shifted from the swelling stomach to his wife's sensitive chest, and he put his mouth on their neck.
"Baelor..." the young man moaned as his nipples were grazed.
"You're delicious, my dear." His Grace whispered. "You smell so good to me."
The Omega purred. "I would hope so. I am your mate, my King."
"You are." the dark-haired man murmured. "You are the mother of my younger children. And you are my Queen."
'Yes. I am his Queen.' the Flea Bottom orphan thought. 'Even if half the nobles do not want me to hold that title.'
Months later...
Twins.
Again.
Baelor had a massive grin on his face when he looked into the crib in which the pair of pups had been placed.
The first one out of the womb was once more a boy, and had been named Rhaegar. He had black hair, like his Sire, and both eyes were somewhere between sky blue and violet.
The second one was a girl. A precious little Princess. Maeven. She was born with the pure Valyrian look; violet eyes and silver-gold hair.
'I fathered another son, and my brother gets another daughter.' the King mused. 'She might not be of my seed, but I will get to raise her. She will call me Kepa, like all of her brothers.'
He would be a good father to her, as he had been to Valarr and Matarys.
His older sons had been slightly puzzled by their father's sudden remarriage, but they were happy that their father was happy.
Dunk had become more like a brother to the pair of them, as he was of a similar age, and they had taken quickly to the new pups as they began arriving.
Valarr had his own little girl, Vaella, who would remain his only child as any other child he'd sired had been stillborn.
The rumour mill thought Bloodraven was behind it, thinking the Valyrian Blackwood bastard as a power-hungry and blood-thirsty warmonger like his half-brothers Daemon Blackfyre and Aegor Bittersteel.
But the King knew his uncle was true to House Targaryen.
Bloodraven would never usurp the throne. Not after the First Blackfyre Rebellion and the events leading up to it.
'I strongly hope none of my children with Dunk will have to succeed me, as it will mean that bad things have happened to Valarr and Matarys. But I will make sure they are ready to take the throne if they must. They will be prepared for Royal life, a life of duty, and a life of honour.'