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Baelor isn’t actually sure how much progress he’s made on his work today. Every few moments Dunk will shift in the armchair by the fire, his brow furrowing as he scowls down at the book in his hand. His soulmate has made admirable work of learning his letters, but there are a great deal of words he hasn’t come across in any setting. Though, Baelor supposes that’s Dunk’s own fault for choosing one of the books on law to read, out of stubborn pride, just because Daeron dared him that he couldn’t do it.
Gods, but sometimes his soulmate was as bad as any of Baelor’s family.
The peace is shattered by the door slamming open, Egg launching himself through pointing an accusing finger at first Baelor, then Dunk, exclaiming “I told you!! I bloody well told you!! Ha!” before he dashes back out, the door slamming shut behind him.
Baelor shares a confused look with Dunk, both of them confirming they have no idea what has gotten into his nephew, before they mutually decide they aren’t going to investigate it either, and they turn their attention back to their tasks. Or, they intend to at least, but a knock at the door shatters the confused peace of the study and Baelor sighs, setting aside the letters. He stretches his back, then sits up straighter in his chair.
“Who is it?”
“Ser Sam Umber, your grace,” Ser Donnel answers, Baelor pauses, sharing a surprised look with Dunk. They’d been waiting on Baelor’s cousin to arrive for a few weeks now, but they’d expected him to arrive with some amount of fanfare. Then again, his father was a Northman.
“Send him in,” Baelor calls.
Dunk and Baelor both watch the door as it swings open, then they’re both frowning at the little cart that’s wheeled through the door, followed by a giant of a man. Baelor stares, wide eyed between his cousin and his soulmate. They’re of similar heights, though Sam has a thicker build.
“Sam!” Dunk exclaims, crossing the room to pull Baelor’s cousin into a crushing hug, the pair of them laughing and clapping each other on the shoulder as they separate, before Dunk frowns at the cart. “What have you a brought?”
“A who, thank you,” Sam answers, turning to Baelor and giving a little bow. “Cousin, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” Sam says, his purple eyes sparkling with amusement. Baelor clears his throat, standing from his chair.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m saddened your mother never thought to tell us of your existence.”
“I figure she thought Uncle Brynden would do that,” Sam says, before he looks down at the cart, sighing. “Daenys bid me say hello,” Sam says, glancing at Dunk out of the corner of his eye. Dunk flushes, a fond look on his face.
“How is she? I heard she was wedding the Lord of Evenfall Hall?”
“Aye, she is well, and she has wed well, too,” Sam says, glancing uncertainly between Baelor and Dunk. Baelor almost offers to excuse himself and give them privacy, but his curiosity demands he stay. “Daenys… bid me give you something else, as well.”
“Oh?” Dunk asks, frowning.
“Aye,” Sam says with a heavy sigh, pulling back the fabrics covering the little cart, and reaching inside to withdraw… Baelor startles, Dunk sputtering as they both watch Sam cradle a little baby in his arms. Baelor sucks in a breath.
“Your sister said-“
“I know what she would have said, Dunk. She’s a bloody liar at the best of times but in this I don’t blame her,” Sam says, settling the babe into Dunk’s arms, rearranging Dunk’s hold just so. Baelor can’t begrudge Dunk this. He can’t. He really and truly can’t. He’s already been wed, had children of his own, lived an entire life before Dunk was ever born. He can’t begrudge this and yet…
“Oh,” Dunk exclaims, a fond smile on his face as he stares down at the babe in his arms.
“She was going to pass her off as Lord Tarth’s, with his permission, of course as he’s sterile. But… she said her dreams changed and she figured her daughter would be happier with you,” Sam says, brushing the babes hair out of her face.
“Oh,” Dunk exclaims again, then he looks up and beams at Baelor. “Baelor, look, she has your eyes,” his soulmate says, looking back down at the babe. Baelor’s feet are moving before his brain has even caught up. Dunk shifts so Baelor can peer down upon the child and his heart aches at the smile he receives showing off three little teeth. He’s caught, then, by the sparkling of a set of mismatched eyes. One the blue of her father, and one the purple of Baelor’s ancestors.
“What’s her name?” Baelor asks, fingers gently caressing her cheek.
“My sister named her Brienne, after a girl she says she doesn’t think will ever exist now,” Sam answers, looking between them both. “I am sorry to spring this on you both, but when I told her I was coming here she-“
“It’s fine,” Baelor murmurs, so mesmerized by this child, his soulmate’s child. His. His child. He and Dunk have wed by Valyrian tradition. This child is as much his as Dunk’s. “I’ll claim her,” he breathes, looking up at Dunk, who hesitates.
“Baelor-“
“The realm will treat her better if they think she’s my legitimized bastard than if she’s yours. A princess of the realm, even if it’s only through decree,” he says, sighing wistfully. “I always wanted a daughter.”
“Alright,” Dunk answers, hesitant. Baelor knows they’re going to be having a conversation about this later, but for now. For now, there is a beautiful babe to coo over. “Did you want to hold her?” Dunk asks, Baelor’s heart pounds in his chest.
“Yes,” he answers, the sound barely more than a croak. Dunk smiles and gently passes the babe over. She babbles up at Baelor, blowing little spit bubbles and reaching up for him with a perfect little hand. It is so very easy in that moment, to let himself believe she truly is his daughter, the same way she is Dunk’s. He exhales slowly, then leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Brienne Targaryen, princess of the realm,” he murmurs, she giggles, waving her little hand.
“Guess we owe Egg an apology,” Dunk mutters, Baelor looks up at his soulmate, brow furrowed, trying to figure out what Dunk’s talking about. Dunk sighs. “First came love, then came marriage, now there’s a baby in a baby carriage,” Dunk says, pointedly. Baelor pauses, then a laugh bubbles up his throat and he can’t stop it.
“Gods!” Baelor exclaims, some time later, wiping tears from his eyes. “Gods, that boy!”
“We’re never living this down, I hope you know,” Dunk mutters, though there’s no heat in his words as he brushes a finger over Brienne’s cheek. In all the commotion, the little one somehow decided it was the perfect time to have a nap. She most definitely gets that from her father. Dunk’s ability to fall asleep anywhere and through anything is something Baelor is never going to stop being envious over.
“Well,” Baelor says, sighing. “Come on then, we should go introduce her, before Egg tells them all some wild story about her existence.”
“Gods, let’s go!” Dunk exclaims, rushing for the door. It’s only then that Baelor realises Sam must have snuck out, for his Umber cousin is nowhere to be found. Well, he’ll be around somewhere, and Baelor will just have to shower him with gifts in appreciation for the service he’s done them, and his sister, too. He has no idea what House Tarth needs, but they’re going to suddenly find themselves in the good graces of the Crown.
“Come, Brienne. Let’s go meet your mad family, hmm?” Baelor coos, as he follows after his soulmate.