Chapter Text
Dunk blankly stared at the rose petals laying on the floor of his room. The petals laid there silently taunting him over the thing he had vehemently denied to acknowledge about himself since he came into service with the Targaryens.
A knock on his room door broke the silence and Dunk quickly grabbed the petals and tossed them into his bedside table drawer.
"Ser, are you awake? I'm ready for our lessons," Egg called out through the door.
"I'm awake just give me a minute to get dressed," Dunk responded. Dunk sighed in relief when he heard Egg's retreating footsteps. He looked at the petals in the drawer and closed it hoping to forget the sight.
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Arlan had said that only foolish men suffered from the flower illness. Dunk didn't know what he was referring to until they stopped at an inn and a man drunkenly spewed sunflower petals after loudly weeping to a barkeep over his lost love.
Dunk watched the man get carried away by his friend.
"Don't stare at him boy. He's at the mercy of the gods if he's contracted such a thing," Arlan sipped at his drink.
Dunk stared at his own ale. The sight of half formed flowers coming out of the man seemed like an incurred curse rather than sickness. "How did he get it?" Dunk whispered.
Arlan scoffed. "When a person gets consumed by love and that love isn't reciprocated, a person will be overcome with such grief that flowers will grow in their windpipe until it suffocates them to death."
Dunk paled at the explanation. "Is there no cure for such an ailment?"
Arlan chuckled. "The rich nobles only have the means for the cure. You go to a maester and have them cut the blooms from you. But you'll lose all memory and feelings of the one you love. Most idiots would rather die than live without the memories."
"There's no other cure?"
Arlan paused bringing the cup to his mouth. "If the love is reciprocated the blooms disappear. What are the odds of that happening if you're far enough along to be coughing up flowers though?" Arlan shook his head in disbelief.
Dunk swore never to love so much that he would suffer from a thing.
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The aftermath of the Ashford tourney left everyone in the trial either dead or extremely battered. Baelor had been sewed back together carefully by the maesters and it was considered a miracle that he lived.
Dunk swore his life in service to the man who risked his life to make up his last man needed. It was the least he could do after seeing the man's concave skull after their bittersweet victory.
Maekar and his two eldest sons were not fond of Baelor's newest sworn man at first. Aerion had a particular vendetta against Dunk after his public humiliation. Aerion glared at him from a distance while he recovered from his injuries. Dunk was thankful that Egg served as a buffer between him and his family. The tides shifted one day when he encountered Aerion at the training yard at Summerhall three moons after Ashford.
"Your stance is abysmal," a voice said from behind Dunk.
Dunk jumped and yelped in surprise. He whipped around to Aerion standing there looking bored.
"Oh milord! I was just leaving if you'd like to train," Dunk was ready to slink off before anything got ugly.
Aerion clicked his tongue. "Stay you fool. You can't protect my uncle if you stand like a limp noodle and swing your sword aimlessly."
Dunk's face burned as he shrunk under Aerion's gaze. He feared that the prince would finally take his vengeance over the trial of seven. Dunk was surprised by Aerion going up to him and adjusting his stance.
"Keep a strong stance that's shoulder width. Your narrow stance will make you vulnerable and unbalanced," Aerion gently pushed Dunk's foot to improve his stance.
Dunk nodded and ignored the closeness of the other man. Aerion took a step back and crossed his arms.
"Show me that drill again, you need a firm hand with your technique apparently," Aerion looked Dunk up and down.
It became a routine of sorts after that day. Dunk still studied under the master of arms at Summerhall and then Aerion would come and spar with him. Dunk was thankful that they were developing some odd truce. He didn't know what Aerion's intentions were and didn't give it much thought since he wasn't on the prince's kill list anymore.
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Their tentative truce had turned into friendship over the next few moons. Aerion sought out Dunk most days and accompanied him to wherever he was going. Egg had grumbled that Aerion was up to something because he was never this peaceful to others.
Dunk sat in the library and practiced his letters. Maekar said a proper knight in service to a great house must be literate in case of communications during unrest. Dunk hated the lessons but begrudgingly took them on for the sake of his beloved squire.
"You write G's with as much grace as when you swing a sword," Aerion's voice whispered into Dunk's ear.
Dunk squeaked and jumped in his chair. Aerion muffled his laughter into his sleeve.
"I'm trying my best milord," Dunk mumbled.
Aerion rolled his eyes. "I thought we talked about what you should call me."
"It's not proper to call you by your name according to your father," Dunk watched Aerion take the seat next to him.
Aerion scoffed. "As your prince I command you to address me by what I told you to call me. You call that little imp by his nickname."
"Egg is my squire of course I call him by a nickname." Dunk could've sworn he saw a flicker of anger in Aerion's face when he said that.
"Never mind that, what are you working on?" Aerion dragged the parchment Dunk was practicing on to him.
"I'm just practicing penmanship. The maesters say I'm at a good stage when it comes to reading but my handwriting leaves a lot to be desired," Dunk grimaced at his chicken scratch.
Aerion hummed and looked over the letters Dunk had attempted. "Show me how you write the letters," Aerion commanded.
Dunk ended up spending the next two hours working on his letters with Aerion. He ignored the slight tickle in his chest when Aerion gave a compliment of "this is acceptable I suppose".
Dunk hid his happiness of making a new friend somehow through a prince who had hated his guts a few months ago.
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The first petals appeared a week after Dunk was presented with a nameday gift by Aerion. The man didn't know the exact day he was born and told Egg he was probably born in the spring if he had to guess. Egg had chosen his nameday after days of begging Dunk. Dunk conceded and Egg chose a day for him while Daeron and Aerion looked on in amusement.
"Here oaf. Happy nameday," Aerion held out a wrapped box to Dunk as he sat up in bed.
Dunk shook the sleep from himself and took the package. He opened it to find a inscribed dagger with a black handle. The weapon read "Sworn to the hedges no more" on it. Dunk chuckled as he slowly read the inscription.
"Your uncle could release me back to the hedges you know?"
Aerion stared at Dunk blankly before smirking. "You'd be a fool to go back to the hedges." The prince scoffed before exiting Dunk's room.
Dunk smiled before he felt a tickle in his throat. He coughed into his hand and found a lone rose petal. Dunk stared at the petal in fear. He crushed the delicate thing in his hand and got up to get dressed for the day. He'd need to consult someone qualified over this matter.
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Aemon had been granted visitation of his family by the Citadel and was staying at Summerhall for a single moon. Dunk nervously approached the prince in the library.
Aemon looked up from the scroll he was reading and smiled. "Ah Ser Dunk good morning. I apologize for not speaking with you sooner."
Dunk scratched the back of his neck nervously. "It's ok. I have a selfish inquiry to ask of you if you'd be willing to listen."
Aemon looked intrigued and motioned for Dunk to sit. "I'm not a maester yet but let's see if I can help you."
"It's about the flower illness. Is there any way to get rid of it when it's in the beginning stages?" Dunk asked quietly.
Aemon laughed softly. "What an odd question. You are an interesting fellow just as Egg said you'd be. If I'm correct you can get rid of it in the beginning stages by losing feelings for the person organically. As in you find them disgusting overnight."
Dunk winced at the thought of finding Aerion disgusting. He carried that sentiment a while ago but his mind had changed with Aerion and his companionship over the last year.
"What if one can't bring themselves to hate the person?"
Aemon scratched his head in thought. "Hmmm then I'd say to keep some distance. If one is apart from the other during the beginnings of affection then the flower illness might be able to be staved off. That was a tactic a few nobles used to protect lovesick maidens of their houses."
Dunk nodded. Aemon studied the man for a few seconds.
"Duncan if you ever find yourself in a position of suffering from this you may send a raven to me. I will treat any messages between us with the utmost discretion."
Dunk flushed deep red. "My handwriting is appalling but I may take you up on that offer Aemon. Thank you for not judging."
"I'm here to aid by pursuing knowledge and that also means helping others heal. We can't lose my brother's favorite knight to squire for." Aemon smiled and pivoted the conversation to the topic of the training yard.
Dunk was relieved he found an ally to help him with this matter however he didn't look forward to avoiding Aerion in the upcoming days.
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The act of evading Aerion was a challenge. Dunk didn't realize how much time Aerion and him had spent together everyday until he had to put distance between them. He tried to change up his schedule as his first step and the next day Aerion immediately adjusted his to match Dunk's.
Dunk shifted tactics and avoided being in the same room as Aerion with sad excuses as his next strategy. The coughing and petals had ceased temporarily for a few days to Dunk's relief.
Two weeks into his self imposed solitude, with the exception of Egg, Aerion cornered him in a stairway.
Aerion held a knife up to Dunk's neck. "You know, I was starting to like you. And then you reminded me of what I hate. Cowards," Aerion brought the blade close to Dunk's jugular.
"Aerion please," Dunk begged. Aerion had been so restrained with violence in the last year that Dunk forgot about Aerion's temper.
Aerion narrowed his eyes at him. "You smile at me one day then avoid me like the plague for weeks. If something has happened between us then have the courage to tell me you insolent rat," Aerion hissed.
Dunk avoided eye contact with Aerion. He couldn't confess to the sinful feelings that had manifested into the rose petals which clawed out of his throat. Aerion was a prince of the noble blood of the dragon. Dunk could be put to death for looking upon him the wrong way. Maekar would probably relish in the sight of his demise.
"Speak or lose your tongue oaf. I'm being awfully patient with you now," Aerion growled. The knife lightly cut into Dunk's neck. A dribble of blood ran down.
Dunk's eyes widened. "I didn't think it was appropriate for a man of my station to be so close with a prince that I was not in service to," Dunk lied.
Aerion withdrew his blade and gave him an incredulous look. He took a step back and snorted before bursting into laughter. "You think you have to serve me to sit next to me in the library?" Aerion's laughter continued.
Dunk felt his ears burn in embarrassment. He felt his chest tighten at the sound of Aerion's laughter. It was the most delightful sound he had ever heard and Dunk thought he could die happy if it was the last sound he ever heard.
Aerion turned away to leave. "Avoid me again and I'll hunt you down and string you up by your underthings at the highest point of Summerhall."
Dunk's heart pounded as he watched Aerion leave and started for his own room. When he reached the safety of his own room he fell into a coughing fit. A half formed rose bloom and a small branch of bloody thorns fell from his mouth. Dunk looked at the plants in horror. He went to his desk to write a letter to Aemon.
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The raven was sent off to the Citadel in the waking hours of the morning. Dunk kept it short and asked Aemon on if there were other treatments since his illness yielded half blossoms already.
Aerion had found his way back to Dunk's side during the day and kept to him like a shadow. Egg grumbled at having to share Dunk's attention now.
In a rare moment alone in the training yard between knight and squire Egg stared at Dunk with scrutiny.
"I think he's up to something. He's been stalking you more these days," Egg huffed.
"I think he's just bored amongst these walls Egg. His interest will surely wain," Dunk reassured. In truth Dunk reveled in Aerion's presence. The man was snippy and made jests over Dunk's upbringing but Dunk saw a boy who fought for the attention of others in any way he could have it.
Egg stared at the ground before looking back at Dunk. "I see the way he stares at you. He looks at you like a man hunting for game."
Dunk frowned at Egg. "Speak no more of him. You said you the maesters taught you about the direwolves?" Dunk didn't want Egg to mention his brother during their rare times alone. Just the thought of the elder prince could bring upon another coughing fit.
Dunk sometimes cursed how perceptive his squire was at times.
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Aemon's reply came a few days later. The message came attached with a small elixir strapped to the bird.
Duncan,
I fear you've passed the threshold of the beginning stages of flower illness. The elixir attached should buy you a moon or two of peace from the pain of the coughing fits but it cannot quell the blooms growth. Stay safe my friend.
Your favorite maester in training,
Aemon
Dunk reread Aemon's words three times before hiding the letter in a small box under his bed. The elixir shimmered a glittering light blue like sea water. Dunk uncorked the small bottle and downed the liquid in one gulp. It tasted like sour medicine and Dunk leaned against the wall of his room holding back the urge to throw up this morning's meal. A liquid so pretty tasted absolutely vile. The slight burn in his throat had subsided within minutes and Dunk touched his neck in awe.
With a renewed vigor in his steps Dunk made his way down to one of the rivers near the estate. He could finally breathe a little easier without the lingering pain from the thorn branches and rose buds he coughed up every night. They were especially painful the mornings after he had carnal dreams of Aerion.
Dunk sat by the riverbed and wondered what he was going to do about this mess. A shadow fell over him as he was lost in thought.
Aerion stood there with two fishing poles. "I thought we talked about you avoiding me. We were making such good progress on your obedience doggy," Aerion sat next to Dunk and started taking bait out of a pail.
Dunk looked at Aerion while he punctured a worm onto the hook. Aerion should've never been the object of his affections but Dunk was drawn to the man who noticed him in a room full of people. He noticed that Aerion's cruelty was rooted in a need to fill a void left by his mother's death and the unprocessed grief that lingered. The prince wanted others to hurt as much as he did and perhaps Dunk was just too thick to feel hurt by the prince's jabs.
"I know I'm beautiful sight to behold but it's quite rude to stare Duncan," Aerion held out the second pole. He cast out his line while Dunk turned to put a worm onto his own hook.
Dunk cast out his own line. The two sat in silence for a bit.
"Why do you seek me out? Why not seek out Daeron or Egg?" Dunk asked.
"Daeron is a drag to be around and Egg only enjoys your company and hates me. I write to my sisters once in a while but everyone is just dreadfully boring around here," Aerion started reeling in his line when it jerked around. "You are uncouth and lack proper upbringing but your company is tolerable."
Dunk watched Aerion pull a fish out of the water. Dunk couldn't help but feel hurt that he was just free entertainment for Aerion. Even the slight rejection and confession that Dunk was just a passing distraction didn't sway his feelings for the prince. Dunk turned back to the river and wished he could be as free as the fish who swam carefree.
They fished in silence for another hour. Dunk savored every moment by the prince's side.
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The summons to the Red Keep came a fortnight later after the fishing expedition. The family was expected to make the trip back so they could celebrate King Daeron's nameday feast.
Dunk felt a wave of nerves over how he was going to hide his ailment amongst the eyes of the castle. Dunk resolved to lay low and keep his head down as best he could.