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Dunk awoke in much the same way he had the past few months.
Rays of sunlight filtered through the window of his room, quietly warming his skin as slowly but surely the rest of the castle came alive outside. Servants were doing their chores for the day, guards switched their shifts, outside he could hear the faint laugh of children. Perhaps they were on their way to do their own list of duties or maybe they helped their parents with their day’s work. Clear and innocent voices echoed through Summerhall like a lullaby regardless, pulling the alpha towards kinder thoughts.
Next to him Aerion was leisurely carding his fingers through his hair and pressing hot kisses to his neck and face. He grazed his fangs where the knight’s scent glands lay, tracing the faded bonding mark there in a way more possessive than romantic in nature. It was one of the rare times that his personality still managed to shine through in one way or another, so rare in fact that Dunk feared moving at all. Lest the spell be broken and the omega return to his normal behaviour.
Mornings were always the worst, and the man had learnt long ago that resisting had no use. Instead, the knight merely blinked his eyes open a few times, trying to shake off sleep as he let his mate proceed as he wished.
Then, he did his best to force a smile.
“Good morning, m’lord,” he tried to greet, only to be jolted by his mate deciding to bury himself fully into the nape of his neck. His hand moved on instinct in an attempt to push the other away, an act that led to Aerion mustering the most pitiful whine he’d ever heard before.
Another wave of guilt flashed through Dunk. “I’m glad you seem to have rested well.”
He could see the prince’s dark purple eyes wetting with tears, pouting as he looked towards his alpha and the lost scent. The behaviour was so horribly out of character that it made Dunk want to be swallowed by the earth itself. Alas, he would not receive such mercy today.
With a sigh, the alpha let him go. Aerion wasted no time scrambling back into the position they’d been in earlier, their bodies a tangle of legs and arms upon the soft pillows.
If nothing else, at least the day began in a normal fashion.
XXX
There are many things etched into Dunk’s mind and memories.
The taste of Fleabottom’s dirty air on his tongue, Rafe’s hot red blood on his hands, the weight of the sword in his grip when he began training under Ser Arlan, Ashford Meadow’s morning breeze the day he arrived….. So many small and large moments, all never to be forgotten. All making up who he was today. All shelved away in his mind. Some he liked to remember, others that came back rather unwilling. Most he knew he could never allow himself to forget.
The memory of Prince Maekar sitting across him, humiliated and fearful and oh so terribly broken by the events of the trial, on the other hand? That was perhaps the one defining memory he had learned to loathe more than anything else. And it was also the memory that he would most like to erase from his mind entirely.
“It is tradition,” the older man had said. His voice shook in a way Dunk couldn’t describe. “A Trial of Seven is supposed to be until death. By entering, both of you have chosen to throw your lives into the ring. And by yielding, Aerion has chosen to give his up.”
The hedge knight had been too naive back then to understand what it truly meant. How could he not have been? Common folk like him didn’t bother much with the traditions and procedures of lords and princes. Their lives were too short and too dangerous for anything like that; giving them up just became an inevitability sooner or later. For their family, during a harvest, for some coin- lives were always lost so very easily. And that was if you could even consider your life your own in the first place. All the alpha truly knew was that Baelor had just died in his arms and Dunk still felt the taste of the funeral pyre’s smoke in the back of his throat. So truly– how was he ever supposed to understand?
When Prince Maekar begged for his boy’s safety, Dunk thought he meant Egg. That he was allowing him to take the boy to squire and speaking as a concerned father when he said “Keep him well,” and “Don’t hurt him, please.”
It was only when he was standing in that tiny, cramped sept with nothing but Aerion and his family as witnesses that he understood what he had meant.
It was only when he looked upon the unwilling eyes of the restrained omega that he knew he'd never fully forgive himself, either.
An ancient Andal tradition, much like the Trial, they said. Aerion had lost the trial and survived because Dunk allowed him to surrender. That meant his life belonged to the alpha now- Bound to him by the gods themselves, whether he or anyone else wanted it or not. To go against it now would be a slight upon them. One just about bad enough to cause a dangerous amount of outrage the Targaryens couldn’t risk so close after the trial and losing their heir- even if Dunk himself offered to release the younger prince of his obligations on his own.
No one really had a choice. Least of all Aerion. Yet Prince Maekar would rather see his son mated and married than a slave if he was meant to belong to the hedge knight. Regardless of how unbecoming of standing and title as the union would be, and uncaring of how shameful the very idea was to the chosen bride. But they were stuck; Baelor had died. Dunk killed him by his own foolishness. Aerion had lost. And Prince Maekar had asked and was afraid and was honest and looked at him like only a father could and said ‘come to Summerhall’ and ‘Train Aegon and live with Aerion there while you serve’ and ‘Please don’t take another son from me’ and—
And—
And Dunk did not feel it proper to refuse.
Aerion had raged, of course. Screamed and thrashed and insulted anyone around him. He’d said that he’d rather be dead than live such a life. Mated against his will to an alpha with no title or wealth to show for it. Forced into submission into an existence that did not fit the dragon he truly was. Not even his father had been able to calm him, so much so that he spent the wedding fighting and the farce of a bedding ceremony clawing at anything that moved.
In truth, Dunk did not blame the omega for sneaking that dagger with him. He could not have known that Dunk would not have lain with an unwilling partner, nor that he could not fault another for merely trying to protect themselves. Sure, it hurt. And yes- the scar across his chest was both ugly and barely small enough for him to hide. But Aerion had been scared, and Dunk could understand. He could not, however, understand the anger everyone else seemed to hold at what had happened. The same way he could not understand what had happened afterwards. Part of him was still too afraid to ask.
XXX
They broke their fast together with Egg. Manners insisted only for dinners to be eaten in the presence of the whole family, meaning that they were left to their own devices for the other meals of the day. The knight tried to make it a point to eat them with his mate and squire, even if the latter was never quite the happiest about his older brother’s presence.
Or, well- used to be. Egg has grown significantly more willing to be around Aerion since the older had begun his treatment. Even if it was still soured by a heavy dose of annoyance and rejection.
“No,” He heard his squire huff, pushing away the fork full of food his mate was currently trying to feed him with, “You know I’m not allowed to eat your stuff.”
Aerion whined pitifully. His scent grew just a little more sour. Still he did not stop, continuing to insist the child take a bite. Egg only shook his head harder. “I don’t want that. Eat it yourself!”
Dunk knew that it wasn’t meant to be malicious; the omega had grown…..softer, in a sense. More in tune with his instincts. Being around a pup, being around a pup that smelled like his mate by virtue of the boy’s proximity to him, just did things to Aerion. It was not his fault he no longer had the mind to suppress his instincts.
The knight could hear Egg repeating his rejection more strongly than before. Based on the sounds of protest for good, seeing how he could hear him yelp as Aerion switched to hoisting him into his lab after finally accepting what the younger said. Dunk saw the omega burying his nose into the tufts of hair that started growing from the pup’s scalp to breathe in the scent, tiny purrs starting to erupt from his chest while he rubbed his own glands over his brother’s. His squire quickly found that struggling seemed useless.
He frowned.
“I hate this!” Egg complained a little petulantly, “Save me, Ser!”
“I fear that may be a bit difficult, lad.”
Aerion continued purring.
XXX
“Has he been taking well to the treatment?” The maester asked. It was the same question he brought forth every day. Dunk nodded on pure muscle memory.
Yes, Aerion took the potion and the food laced with it.
Yes, he still acts according to how they may expect him to act.
Yes, he remains as calm as he should be.
No, he shows no signs of rejecting the concoction they’ve been feeding him.
No, he does not seem to regain any of his previous mental faculties.
No, he has nothing more to note or talk about.
Sometimes Dunk thinks that it should have been Prince Maekar to hold these daily conversations rather than him. He had been the one to make the decision to resort to these means in the first place, not to mention that the knight was sure that the man would understand more of what the maester talked about in the first place.
The other nodded. He always nodded. Like a play he studied and performed day in and day out with Dunk, both as the audience and fellow actor. “That’s good,” the older man continued to speak. His voice carried not the slightest waver- it sounded like he was speaking about something menial. Like the weather or some sort of new castle gossip.
The maester handed him a small vial of clear liquid. It could be mistaken for water if it weren’t for the crystalline shine it showed when held against the light. “I don’t think I need to repeat this, but I shall to make sure. If you wish for this potion to take its full effects, it will need to be fresh. So you should administer it within the day. The prince must ingest every last drop for his mind to be calmed properly. Do not let him finish before then.”
Dunk had understood the instructions the first time he’d said them months ago when all of this started. He knew most considered him too dumb to truly remember them. “I understand,” the knight confirmed.
His hands still shook as he pocketed the little glass flask.
XXX
The omega smiled when Dunk brought him the vial much like he did every day. Dunk had stopped on the way to retrieve a glass of wine to mix it with, playing his part of a thoughtful and good alpha. Aerion hummed and drank without needing to be told.
He grabbed his hand and tried to pull him towards their shared bed where his nest was built. “I can’t,” Dunk quickly excused, “I have to train with Egg. And see to the castle guard to make sure all is how it’s supposed to be. I’m sorry, I’ll visit you later.”
There’s clear disappointment in his eyes. Aerion lets him leave without complaint; however, even if deep down Dunk had wished for the prince to at least say something. It had been ages since he last heard him use his voice properly.
XXX
Egg was growing like a weed, Dunk thought. It felt surreal in how quick it was; one moment a small and unsure boy, the next a child on the cusp of puberty. His handling of the sword and lance progressed in such a way that even his Ser was impressed. Was this how parents felt seeing their own blood mature and leave their homes? It must be. That bittersweet rope around his heart which kept on squeezing. Strangling the poor knight with a wealth of emotions he could not fully describe.
High above, the sun stood in the sky, beating down onto the yard to make whoever was in there sweat. Dunk was grateful for the comparatively light training gear he donned that day; his own armour would have been a horrible thing to bear.
“Grip your sword a little tighter,” he instructed his squire, moving to adjust this or that, “and remember to keep your legs steady. You don’t want to get knocked over.”
“Yes, Ser!” Egg nodded up at him, doing as he was told before quickly continuing his swings. The dummy they’d fashioned into an opponent was starting to look rather battered by the young prince’s ministrations. Dunk would need to make a note that it’d need replacement. Its remains could be used for kindling fine enough; that way none would go to waste.
Dunk continued to watch the boy move. A small parcel of happiness bloomed in his chest. Out here in the fresh air, away from Summerhall’s cramped hallways and rooms, with wind and sky and the twittering of birds, the knight almost felt like he could forget the steady longing for a simpler life. Perhaps he’d go and take Thunder for a ride. Or he would go fishing together with Daeron and Egg should they find themselves agreeable to it. With Summer remaining steady in its presence, the weather would be perfect. He could even combine it with some quick bathing. For fun of course, Prince Maekar made sure his son’s alpha took regular baths since coming here, but still. The cold water would help to cool himself and the princes down, not to mention the nostalgia he could allow himself to dwell in there.
He smelled the scent of sickeningly sweet flowers and ash long before he heard his squire’s annoyed groan ripping him from his thoughts. “He’s watching us again” the boy bristled, head turning to properly show his Ser what he thought of the matter. Dunk followed his gaze to find Aerion staring down at them from an open window.
The knight tried to smile reassuringly, sweat running down the side of his face from the heat. “He’s just curious, no need to worry.”
“He’s always curious.” The younger replied, moving to lean his sword against a small rack some servants had put up for them. “First he scents me, and now he’s watching. Doesn’t he have anything better to do!?”
No, Dunk thinks, he does not. But he’s smart enough not to say as much to his obviously unhappy training companion. Aerion waved as though he could hear them speak.
Egg turned around as a form of protest. “Tell him to go away.”
“That’s not very nice of you.”
“I don’t want to be nice to him.”
The knight looked back to the window to find Aerion unmoved by his brother’s actions. It was a strange thought to imagine the man currently looking over them to have been the same person to drag them into the trial. He’d never noticed before, but Aerion must have lost some amount of muscle mass. How could he only notice that now? He saw his body through the flowy gowns that had come to replace the prince’s past tunics and armour. He’d fattened up, body growing softer and more malleable the more time they spent together. His silver hair grew to shoulder length and began to frame his face like a curtain woven of the finest silk. All delicate and soft like an omega lady of a noble house.
“Do you think he’d enjoy training with us?” he inquired, hitting himself almost as soon as he voiced the sentence out for doing so out loud.
His squire looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Aerion’s a mated omega, Ser.” Egg stated with a sudden amount of conviction, “It’s unbecoming for him to be doing such things. Not to mention that father would probably be against it.”
Dunk would not mind it terribly if his mate enjoyed swordplay and fighting. Aerion was skilled in it last time he checked, so much so that he could probably even learn a thing or two. It was a crime to keep someone like him locked inside a home to tend to whatever omegas were expected to tend to. Alas, it was not the first crime his family would commit against him. Neither would it be the first crime Dunk allowed to pass his gaze, either.
XXX
The omega’s lips felt like needles against his skin.
Sometimes Dunk wondered if they’d mixed some sort of love potion in with the concoction his mate usually received to keep him calm. He would not be surprised if that were the case, for Aerion surely would not be so happy to see the knight purely on his own.
He closed his eyes and kissed back. Large hands steady on Aerion’s small hips as he played the part of a dutiful and loving husband. The omega had stolen him away almost as soon as he finished his duties for the day, pulling him onto a tiny corner to demand the attention he’d been so cruelly deprived off.
An omega’s affections were sweet things, Dunk realised quickly. So sweet they could become addicting if you weren’t careful. He gasped when he nuzzled into his scent glands and nipped over their bond mark, hands slinging themselves around him in turn.
“We can’t be late for dinner with your family,” the knight reminded, glad for a convenient excuse to fall into his hands. “I need to freshen up, don’t wanna disappoint your father…”
Aerion looked up at him with a lovesick, devoted expression. Bile rose in his throat. “We can cuddle some more tonight, if you want.”