Chapter Text
Daella takes her seat at the breakfast table and announces to the gathered family, “Aemon wrote back to me. He thinks Duncan might be a Bear Island Hound.”
Maekar, exhausted, frustrated, only just has enough energy to utter, “a what?”
“A Bear Island Hound,” Daella says patiently, “they were bred on Bear Island as livestock guardians. Aemon says that they’re known to be gentle with livestock and patient with children, and vicious to predators.”
Daeron, remarkably sober for once, just nods and says, “well that explains his size at least. If he was bred to fight off bears.”
Then Daella sighs happily as though awfully pleased with herself, and she proceeds to remain silent as she digs into her breakfast. Maekar sighs tiredly, and glances towards the fireplace in the dining room, where Duncan, The Mutt, is lying quietly as his youngest daughter Rhae brushes him clumsily.
Then he slumps in his chair and wonders how exactly his life had come to this.
-
Two Moons Earlier
The first time Maekar sees The Mutt, Aegon is trudging into the courtyard of Summerhall, The Mutt lumbering after him, as though trying to hide behind the boy, which Maekar finds almost laughable. Because Aegon is eight years old and small for his age. And The Mutt, canine though it may be, is the size of a pony.
Aegon, sulking at having his afternoon of adventures cut short by being summoned home for dinner, merely acknowledges him with a nod and then keeps walking, moving to trudge into the keep, taking copious amounts of dirt with him into the clean hallways of Summerhall, calling nonchalantly over his shoulder, “c’mon dog, this way.”
Maekar, whilst forced to admire Aegon’s confidence in his own ability to get away with his little scheme, puts his foot down immediately.
“What the fuck is going on here?” He asks, disbelief colouring his voice.
And Aegon turns towards him, eyes too wide and too innocent, and tilts his head as though confused by Maekar’s question.
“This is my dog,” Aegon says, as though that fact ought to be obvious. As though The Mutt had always belonged to him, and that Maekar is the very height of daft to have forgotten that fact.
Maekar, however, is indeed not the height of daft, and he has forgotten nothing.
“Enough of this, boy. You don’t have a dog.”
“I do!” The boy cries, losing the calm confidence he had thus far possessed during the conversation.
“I do!” Aegon insists again, “he’s mine, he’s my dog.”
Maekar heaves a sigh and, and not for the first time mourns the loss of his Dyanna. She would know what to do with their wayward son. She would know how to make light of this nonsense.
“Son,” Maekar says slowly, “you don’t have a dog, and you’re not having this mutt.”
“No!” Aegon cries, “please, kepa, he’s mine, he - ”
“Aegon,” Maekar decides on remaining firm, on laying down the law, “enough. You are not bringing a wild dog into the palace. That thing could be rabid, boy. It will be going back to the wild, and you will be going to your rooms for a bath.”
Aegon glares up at him, his lower lip beginning to tremble, and Maekar turns his back on Aegon before the first tears can fall. A little harsh, perhaps, but for all his harshness he has always been susceptible to the tears of his children. And in this he cannot relent. Aegon will not be bringing wild dogs into the palace no matter how much he cries.
So Maekar turns his back on the lad, and finds himself looking directly at The Mutt.
The Mutt is very definitely canine shaped, it is clearly a dog, and yet it’s the size of a pony. Standing to its full height The Mutt is level with Maekar’s chest. Maekar scoffs and decides that this thing must be part dog and part direwolf. And Maekar moves to shoo it away.
It’s clearly a starving beast, no doubt following Aegon home for the chance at dinner scraps, for despite its height it is lanky beneath its mass of red-gold fur.
The guards at the gate close ranks, hustling the dog back out of the gate, the dog goes without a fight, and Aegon tugs uselessly at the back of his coat.
“Father, please,” he whines, “he’s my friend.”
“He’s a mutt and nothing more,” Maekar responds, “and mutts are not friends.”
“But I don’t have any other friends,” Aegon wheedles, “my cat was my friend, but Aerion threw my cat down the well, so I need a new friend. The dog has to stay!”
Maekar takes a deep breath and turns back towards his son, staunchly ignoring the tears that glimmer in his eyes.
“I’ll find you another cat, Aegon,” Maekar says, then clamps a hand down on his youngest sons shoulder, spinning him around and directing him out of the freezing cold of the courtyard and towards the warmer halls, “and in the meantime you still need a bath.”
And that ought to be the end of that, but it is not, for Aegon continues to wheedle for the entire time it takes for Maekar to escort his son to his chambers so he can bathe before dinner.
-
The second time Maekar sees The Mutt, he is woken from a restless sleep by loud barking. And in a panic he rolls from his bed reaching blindly for a weapon before he reaches for a robe.
And with a small blade in hand, and a velvet robe wrapped around him to shield him from the cold of the hallway, Maekar marches stubbornly towards the source of the sound, two guards come running down the corridor alerted by the noise, falling into step behind Maekar. The trio continue on towards the noise, only to march into Aegon’s room, where he finds Aegon crying, and Aerion shouting, and The Mutt, the great bloody Mutt standing on the bed, barking deep and loud in the general direction of Aerion.
Maekar, however, can shout louder than Aerion, and louder than Aegon, and louder than the fucking Mutt. And he proceeds to do so, at which point every other living creature in the room promptly shuts up.
Silence hangs in the air for one golden moment, before Aerion begins to shout, and Aegon returns to crying, and The Mutt starts to growl, low in its chest, rather than return to barking.
“Enough!” Maekar shouts, and once more silence rings out.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
Aerion and Aegon begin to talk over each other, though Aerion manages to talk louder.
“I only came in here because I heard a strange noise and I was concerned,” Aerion says and sticks his nose into the air and sniffs indignantly, “and I found this great bloody beast about to hurt my brother. He near attacked me when I came in here.”
At which point Aegon forgets his tears, and instead flies to his feet, standing atop his mattress, “liar, liar, lair.”
Aerion’s face twists in anger, and he hisses, “you little beast.”
And Aegon shouts at the top of his lungs, “LIAR!.”
“Aegon,” Maekar shouts, if only to prove that he is still the loudest in the room, “stop it. What other reason could Aerion have to be in your room? He’s right to be concerned for his brother, if there are great big wild dogs roaming around.”
Aegon does not calm in the slightest, and instead points accusingly at Aerion, with such fury as only an eight year old can summon.
“He’s lying. He’s a liar. A liar! He came in here to hurt me, and the dog only started barking to stop him, my dog never did anything else.”
Maekar looks tiredly in the direction of his second son, who looked at him with a blank face and rolled his eyes at Aegon’s antics.
“I’m telling the truth!” Aegon insists, still pointing at Aerion, “he came in here with his knife again, he was going to hurt me!”
At which point Aerion rolls his eyes for a second time, and hold up his hands, which are entirely devoid of blades. Aerion, much like Maekar, is in his night clothes and a robe; there are no good places to hide a dagger of any kind. Thus Maekar is forced to accept that Aegon is lying, likely to cover his own guilt.
It is movement in his periphery that returns his attention to the bed, where the sees The Mutt hopping down from the bed, and trotting towards the corner of the room, where The Mutt proceeds to root around in the corner, attempting to get behind a chair which sat there. After a moment The Mutt seems to be done with its rooting, only to turn and come trotting back towards the bed. The Mutt passes the bed, and comes to a stop in front of Maekar. Maekar, fearing an attack from the wild dog, clutches his dagger tighter, moving into an attack position. Only The Mutt bends and drops something onto the floor at Maekar’s feet, before promptly taking several steps back, spinning back towards the bed, and hopping back onto the mattress, coming to lie between Aegon and his father and brother.
When Maekar reaches down to pick up the dropped item be finds an all too familiar blade. A Valyrian steel dagger which had been gifted to Aerion upon the event of his last Name Day.
Maekar, stumped, looks back towards Aerion, who looks back at him, his eyes growing wide.
“See,” Aegon cries, “see I was tellin’ the truth. He came in here with his dagger and he meant to hurt me like he did before. My dog was only trying to protect me!”
Maekar’s head begins to hurt, he can just feel the headache coming.
Gods, but this is a mess. But Maekar has never been one to back down from a challenge, and he will get to the bottom of this godsdamned mess if it is the last thing he ever does.
He turns back towards the guards.
“Take Aerion back to his own room. Keep him there for the rest of the night. I’ll deal with this properly in the morning.”
Aerion attempts to protest, but Maekar ignores him, gesturing for the guards at his back, to escort his second son back to his own room. Even when the door closes behind them, Maekar can hear Aerion clearly, as he complains the whole way back to his own rooms.
Eventually the hallways is quiet, and Maekar is left in silence, standing in his youngest sons bedroom, glancing down at the dagger in his hand.
The room is only dimly lit; the fire in the fireplace was banked before Aegon went to bed, and the only other source of light is a single flickering candle which sits atop Aegon’s bedside table. The dim lighting only serves to give the room an eerie feel, and when Maekar looks at his son, who is still stood, trembling, atop his mattress, his son’s face appears strange and otherworldly and unsettlingly unfamiliar in the flickering light.
“Get down from there,” Maekar says quietly. And for once Aegon actually listens to him, dropping down to sit on the mattress.
It is not lost on Maekar that Aegon comes to sit directly next to The Mutt, sinking his little fingers into the red-gold fur of beast. For its part The Mutt does not seem to care about being groped by an eight year old. Rather it lies there placidly, quiet now that Aerion is gone from the room, content to simply watch Maekar with eyes that possess a near human-like intelligence. It is just the slightest bit unsettling.
Maekar takes a few step forward, The Mutt’s eyes moving to follow the action, then takes a few steps more, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.
Aegon refuses to look at him. The Mutt refuses to look away.
“Aegon, son,” Maekar says and then stops short.
Because what the fuck? What the actual fuck is going on in his home?
The headache brews, tension beginning to throb behind his right eye.
“Aegon, what’s going on here? What happened?”
Aegon just shrugs, suddenly silent where only minutes ago he had been content to shout at the top of his voice.
“Aegon,” Maekar says, trying to prompt his son to talk, only just managing to hold back from shouting.
Aegon shrugs again, and for a moment Maekar thinks he will keep on refusing to talk.
Instead Aegon huffs and twists his little finger deeper into The Mutts fur.
“I told you I needed a friend,” Aegon says, as though that explains anything, “so I snuck him into the palace.”
Maekar then discovers that The Mutt has been living in the palace for the better part of two weeks. Aegon has been feeding it in his rooms, and letting it out to roam at night, and all of this has been done with the aid of maids and guards from the palace.
Maekar would very much like to ask about the fact that he has apparently lost all respect from the men and women that he employs, but there is in fact a matter more pressing that needs to be dealt with.
“Aegon, I meant, what happened with Aerion.”
Aegon, still refusing to look at Maekar, actually turns his face further away. The Mutt still hasn’t looked away from Maekar.
In the quietest voice Maekar has ever heard, Aegon says, “he’s done it before.”
“Done what before?” Maekar says, and to his own frustration discovers that getting answers from Aegon is exactly as painful as pulling teeth.
“He's come in here with his knife.”
“And?” Maekar asks, because that can’t possibly be the whole truth.
“Last time I didn’t have my dog,” Aegon says slowly, clearly attempting to put off actually answering the question, “and I didn’t even know he was in here until I woke up to find him kneeling over me.”
Maekar wants desperately to reach out and shake his boy, to shake the answers out of him.
“He had his knife,” Aegon says, voice still quiet, “he held it between my legs.”
“He held his knife between your legs?” Maekar asks, voice rough, not at all liking where the story was going.
“He told me he had too many brothers, and if he could make me into a sister he could marry me.”
Some three or four moons past Aegon had come to him, pale and shaking in the early morning light, and had tried to tell him he’d woken to find Aerion in his room. And at the time Maekar had dismissed it as little more than a silly dreams. And there is now a horrible sinking feeling in his gut that this is the story Aegon had been attempting to tell. And Maekar had ignored him.
There is still a part of Maekar that wishes to ignore his youngest son.
Because Aerion is his golden boy. Daeron has proven himself inept. But Aerion, Aerion had inherited Maekar’s martial prowess, and his discipline, and his dedication to greatness. Aerion cannot, he cannot, be as much a disappointment as Daeron has already proven himself to be.
“He’s always whispering threats at me,” Aegon says quietly, “and he threw my cat down the well just like I told you. I thought the dog would be big enough that Aerion wouldn’t be able to do the same to him.”
Maekar swallowed hard, and wondered for a moment where exactly he had gone wrong, how exactly had he failed his children.
Pushing the thought to the side, Maekar clears his throat and continues, “and tonight? What happened tonight?”
Aegon is still busy twisting his fingers in The Mutt’s fur when he answers, “he came into my room again with his knife, I think he wanted to hurt me like he did before. Only, he had no idea I had a dog in here with me, and when he came in, my dog started barking and startled Aerion. He must’ve heard you coming and thrown the knife so you wouldn’t know he had come to hurt me.”
And to this Maekar can say nothing, all he can do is stare down at the Valyrian steel blade in his hand.
“Alright,” Maekar says tiredly, “back to bed now, we’ll finish dealing with this in the morning.”
Then he stands and heads for the door.
“Aren’t you going to make me get r- ” Aegon asks, then cuts himself off.
Maekar turns back and frowns, “make you do what?”
Aegon just shoots him a smile, a too innocent smile, “nothing, father! Goodnight.”
Then Aegon goes blow out the candle on his bedside, and in the dim light from the banked fire he watches his youngest son tuck himself back beneath the blankets, one hand still curled in the fur of The Mutt, who had come to lie alongside him.
Ah.
Like as not, Aegon thought that Maekar would order him to get rid of The Mutt.
He is in half a mind to do just that. But he is also painfully aware that The Mutt had acted to protect his son this very night, and that any attempt to separate the pair would likely send in histrionics.
He was too tired to deal with histrionics.
So he wished his son peaceful dreams and went back to his own bed.
He does not sleep.
He stares up at the darkened ceiling of his bedchamber, and he turns the events of the night over in his mind. Over and over and over and over.
He still has hold of Aerion’s dagger, and in his distraction spins the blade between his fingers. And for all that he fiddles with the blade and fiddles with his memories of the night he makes absolutely no progress towards a solution. And when morning breaks, the dawn a dull grey, Maekar has spent most of the night sleepless.
Giving up on sleep entirely, Maekar stands and dresses himself, not bothering to wait for a manservant to help him.
Then he ventures from the room and goes in search of Daeron.
Daeron is drunk more often than not these days, but even so he still seems to know most of what goes on in the palace. Maekar wonders for a moment if his eldest son knew about The Mutt. It hardly bears thinking about.
He starts his search for Daeron in his lads room, and is pleasantly surprised to actually find him there, for Daeron had at times been knows to fall asleep in the stairways, in the stables, and on one notable occasion, beneath the dining room table.
But Daeron is in his own room, though not in his own bed. Rather his eldest son is slumped in a chair by the fireplace.
Maekar opens the heavy drapes which over the windows, then nudges his son awake, and watches as Daeron groans as the early morning light hits his eyes. Daeron does not look pleased to see Maekar so early in the morning, though in fairness Maekar doubts that Daeron would be happy to see anyone at this early hour of the morning.
“Gods, father, can you not wait until breakfast to start lecturing me? Let me at least wake up enough to hear the lectures.”
Maekar sighs heavily and says, “I’ve not come to lecture you, Daeron. Though Gods know it would be warranted, what are you doing sleeping in a chair?”
Daeron opens his mouth but says nothing, though he frowns a little as though he were attempting to spin an appropriate tale in his mind.
“Don’t answer that,” Maekar says with a wave of his hand, “that’s not what I came to ask.”
Daeron just looks at him blankly, clearly waiting for him to speak again.
Maekar makes several false starts, before he actually gets a coherent question out.
“What’s been going on with Aerion?”
Daeron continues to gaze at him blankly.
“There was an incident last night, like as not you were so drunk you slept through the chaos. Aegon has - Aegon has told me some things about Aerion, and I’d like to know how true those things are. I’d like to know exactly what I’ve missed.”
Daeron continues to stare, though something like awareness filters over his face.
“Which of them did he go after last night?”
And that is perhaps the very worst response Daeron could’ve given.
Because that means it’s not just Aegon that Aerion has been tormenting.
Fury builds in his chest, and his fists clench. The anger simmers, and Maekar has nowhere to direct it.
“Aegon. The incident involved Aegon.” Maekar says.
And Daeron nods, “Aerion threw Aegon’s cat down the well. And Aegon says he’s threatened him before.”
Maekar nods. This he has already learned.
“Has - do you - has - do you know if Aerion has done the same to any of the others?” Maekar asks, and he doesn’t particularly want to know the answer.
Daeron for once appears to choose his words carefully, “Aerion has grown colder these last few years, and angry.”
And Maekar wonders what it says about himself that he doesn’t think anything of this. For Maekar has also grown cold these last few years. And if rumour is to be believed, Maekar has been angry his whole life, he was even born frowning.
“Aerion torments Aegon the most. But Daella and Rhae don’t like to be alone with him anymore.” Daeron says, and then refuses to say more.
Maekar just nods, his throat growing tight.
“Alright, get dressed and come for breakfast.” Maekar says, and stalks towards the door, Daeron’s words running circles in his mind.
-
The third time Maekar sees The Mutt, The Mutt is lying in front of the fire place in the dining hall, lying very still as his youngest daughter, his youngest child, his precious little princess Rhae, clumsily loops a ribbon around The Mutt’s neck, and ties it in a sloppy bow.
And then, right at that very moment, Maekar is aware that he has lost the battle against keeping the dog. Aegon, he might well be able to talk some sense into. But Rhae is as stubborn as her mother was. And worse Rhae has her mothers eyes. And Maekar had never learned how to say no to Dyanna, and he has similar such problems saying no to Rhae.
It does not of course help, that Daella is also knelt in front of the fire, her slender hands stroking at The Mutt’s ears with something like fascination.
Aegon is already sat at the table, blinking at him with lilac eyes.
“Near everyone heard the chaos last night,” Aegon shrugs, “Didn’t seem worth it to keep trying to hide him.”
Maekar wishes that Aegon had at least tried to continue hiding The Mutt. At least that way Maekar could also continue to ignore The Mutt. Instead Maekar is forced to sit at the table and watch as his daughters dote on the great bloody beast.
Still, watching this nonsense proceed is at least preferable to Maekar's next task, which is to ascertain from Daella and Rhae what torment they had faced from Aerion.
Maekar attempts to eat; he has no appetite, but enough life experience to know that an empty stomach will only make his bad mood worse. He manages a little food but loses the battle in the end, unable to force himself to eat more when he sees Daella, his sweet sensible daughter, feeding The Mutt from her own plate, offering up a sausage that The Mutt takes with a gentle mouth.
And for all his distraction, for all his fury, for all his disgust towards The Mutt, Maekar can’t help but observe the beast and to wonder about it.
It’s come in from the wild, clearly, but for a wild dog it's surprisingly docile. It’s a huge beast, the size of a pony, and though it can bark loud enough to wake the dead, it’s not made so much as a peep towards any of his other children. Rather it has rolled over and shown its belly, it’s lain still to be petted, it’s a wild beast but doesn’t seem to mind the pink ribbon that has been twisted around its neck in some facsimile of a collar. And though it is still more skin and bones than flesh, it is unbelievably gentle when offered food, not so much as grazing Daella’s hand when it goes to take the sausage.
It seems well trained. And Maekar wonders if there is another family out there, missing their beloved dog.
Maekar half hopes that they come looking for The Mutt. And he half hopes that they don’t because he now has at least three children who would be distraught if The Mutt were forced to leave.
A little while later, when everyone is quite done eating, Maekar dismisses Daeron from the table, and his eldest son stumbles away gratefully. But he asks Daella and Rhae to stay, and Aegon, clever for his young age, clearly understands what Maekar is going to talk to the girls about, because he nudges The Mutt and points it towards his sisters. Then Aegon vanishes out of the door, though if Maekar knows his son at all, Aegon will not have gone far.
Daella and Rhae watch him with wary eyes, and The Mutt comes to sit between their chairs; Daella reaches out to tangle her fingers in its fur, and Rhae bodily leans against The Mutt, leaning her head against its side as she watches him with wide lilac eyes.
“You may have heard the commotion last night,” Maekar says and then trails off.
Both girls nod, and Daella says in a small voice, “the barking? It woke me up.”
“Aegon has been keeping The Mutt in his room,” Maekar explains, speaking slowly as he tries to decide how exactly to ask the question he needs to ask, “and last night Aerion went into Aegon’s room. I believe he meant to hurt Aegon. Aegon says he’s done it before. Only Aerion wasn’t expecting Aegon to have the dog in his room. The Mutt was barking at Aerion. That’s what woke us all up.”
“Egg is okay right?” Rhae asks, as though she hadn’t just seen Aegon minutes ago, “Aerion didn’t get round to hurting him?”
The fact that neither girl express any surprise at the idea of Aerion hurting Aegon breaks his heart anew.
Maekar shakes his head, “the barking woke us all before Aerion could do anything.”
Then he pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing, “Aegon told me that Aerion has hurt him before, has tried to scare him. And Daeron seems to think that Aerion has tried to hurt the two of you as well. I need to know if that is true.”
The girls are silent for several long moments as they exchange a look that speaks volumes. Daella twists her fingers in The Mutt’s fur, and Rhae leans harder against its side, hiding her face in its fur.
“Will you believe us, if we tell you?”
Maekar catches a shout between his teeth, clenching his jaw to hold back the words of anger and heartbreak that rise up in him.
“He’s mean to us.” Daella says by way of explanation, "Egg told us that he’d snuck into Egg’s room one night and tried to hurt him with a knife. He’s never done that to me. But he likes to grab me, and say mean things.”
Then she pauses, and looks towards where Rhae is still hiding in The Mutts fur.
“Sometimes he threatens to marry me. And sometimes he tells me he never will because I don’t look Targaryen enough.” Daella continues in a soft voice, and Maekar fights back a wave of nausea, “and he likes to grab me.”
For just a moment she releases her grip on the dog, using one hand to tug at the sleeve of her dress, pulling it up far enough that Maekar can see her elbow. There are bruises there, the green and yellow of fading bruises, and for all that they are fading, Maekar can clearly make out the shape of fingers. Then Daella drops the sleeve and reaches for The Mutt again, once again tangling her fingers in its red-gold fur.
“Rhae told me he’s said similar things to her,” Daella says, and her voice breaks a little, “but she’s so young, she’s practically a baby, why would he say those things to her? He grabs her too”
And Maekar cannot give an answer, because there’s a lump in his throat that he struggles to swallow around. He fears that any attempt to speak will simply break his voice.
Instead he leans back and stares at the wall and remains silent for several minutes. The he nods, and says in a low voice, “Okay. I believe you.”
And Daella and Rhae seem to exhale as one.
“Thank you,” Daella says, as though she owes him thanks for listening.
Then Rhae speaks up for the first time in the conversation.
“Can we go to our lessons now?” Rhae asks in a tiny voice. And Maekar hates that she sounds so eager to abandon his company for her lessons.
He says nothing and simply nods. The girls rise as one, and they trot towards the door, The Mutt close on their heels. And that is that.
He doesn’t move from the table for a good long while. But he cannot put off his confrontation with Aerion forever, some things must be faced head on.
-
In the end Aerion denies all claims against him. But four of his siblings have spoken against him, and Maekar half suspects that if he were to write to Aemon, recently gone to the citadel, that Aemon would report back having been the victim of similar crimes.
In the end he writes to his brother-in-law at Starfall, and thankfully the man is accommodating, and two weeks later Aerion is packed and sent with an armed escort to Starfall. Maekar is the only person who bothers to say goodbye to Aerion. Daeron is off somewhere, like as not drunk despite the early hour. And Daella, Rhae, and Aegon seem suspiciously dedicated to their lessons with the maestar, refusing to abandon the lessons even to say goodbye to their brother.
The whole situation leaves a faintly acidic taste in his mouth, a sensation that lingers for days afterwards.
-
With Aerion gone, Maekar, determined to keep himself busy, turns his attention to his next largest problem, which is of course, The Mutt.
The creature appears to have made itself at home in Summerhall Palace. And Maekar would very much like to oust it from the palace. His younger children have grow attached though, and Maekar will not be able to get rid of The Mutt without very good cause.
And so Maekar takes to obsessing over a dog, watching it with hawk-like eyes, waiting for the slightest sign of bad behaviour.
For the first week Maekar tells himself that he will get rid of The Mutt the first time it shows even a hint of aggression towards his younger children.
Except The Mutt never does so.
It’s a docile beast, that will play fetching games with Rhae, and will sit placidly as Daella wraps satin ribbons around its neck, and will lie down and show his belly to Aegon.
A moon later, Maekar tells himself that he will get rid of The Mutt at the first sign of mere bad behaviour, never mind aggression. Such mutts are known to tramp mud into clean hallways, and to disobey their masters order, and to chew up leather boots.
Except The Mutt never disobeys an order.
When The Mutt has been outside playing with Aegon, it will wait patiently at the kitchen door for a maid to clean its paws before coming into the palace. Aegon does no such thing and tramples mud into the corridors of the palace. The Mutt sits when Maekar tells it to sit, and lies down when Maekar tells it to lie down. And Daella has managed to teach it to spin, and to bow, and to offer a paw upon command.
It is a very well behaved mutt.
Some two moons after The Mutt had come to stay, Maekar will take even the slightest bad behaviour as an excuse to get rid of the dog, he will accept even the slightest negative word against the mutt as proof that it has to go. But the maids and guard of the keep seem to love The Mutt; they coo at it, and pet its fur. The maids even bathed The Mutt, rinsing the dirt away to reveal shiny red-gold fur. He’s seen the guards pat The Mutt on its head.
Even his maester, the fucking traitor, loves The Mutt. He had reported that The Mutt has taken to herding his children into their lessons. They are now never tardy, the maester reports, and Aegon will sit still now so long as he can twist his fingers in The Mutt’s fur.
He’s seen it with his own eyes, how The Mutt will separate his children when they’re arguing, nudging between his bickering children, forcing them apart so they can calm themselves. And he has also watched The Mutt herd his children together after breakfast, nudging them towards their lessons. They go without complaint, which is nothing short of a miracle as they complain about most things.
For all that Maekar would like to live in his denial, he does eventually come to admit that The Mutt is perhaps the most competent childcare available in the palace.
Then one morning Aegon takes his seat at the breakfast table and announces that The Mutt has a name.
It frankly surprises Maekar that it had taken so long to name The Mutt, and he listens exhausted as Aegon explains that The Mutt is in fact called Duncan.
“Where exactly did you get that name from?” He asks, not actually wanting to know the answer.
Aegon explains, “well we’ve been listing names, and waiting to see what he reacts to. It’s Daella that finally figured it out. She was reading a book on Northern History, and he reacted to the name Duncan!”
“Right then,” Maekar says, and chooses to dig into his food, slowly coming accept that he is never going to get rid of The Mutt. They’ve named it now. His one sided battle against The Mutt is over, and were he not so stubborn he might be able to admit that he has categorically lost the war too.
-
Some days later Daella takes her seat at the breakfast table and announces to the gathered family, “Aemon wrote back to me. He thinks Duncan might be a Bear Island Hound.”
Maekar, exhausted, frustrated, only just has enough energy to utter, “a what?”
And only a second later does he realise that he does in fact already know what a Bear Island Hound is. And given his existing, though limited, knowledge, he does in fact concur with his third son; Duncan does indeed seem to resemble what Maekar knows of that particular breed.
But he is not quick enough to point this out and thus he is forced to sit there and listen as his eldest daughter explains, “A Bear Island Hound. They were bred on Bear Island as livestock guardians. Aemon says that they’re known to be gentle with livestock, and patient with children, and vicious to predators.”
Daeron, who appears remarkably sober for so early an hour, simply nods and says, “well that explains his size at least. If he was bred to fight off bears.”
Then Daella sighs happily, clearly pleased with herself, and she proceeds to remain silent as she prioritises digging into her breakfast. Maekar sighs tiredly, and glances towards the fireplace in the dining room, where Duncan, The Mutt, is lying quietly as his youngest daughter Rhae brushes him clumsily. The Mutt never complains once, not even when Rhae’s brush pulls and tugs at his fur, ever gentle even in the face of rough treatment.
Not for the first time Maekar slumps in his chair and wonders how exactly his life has come to this. He has no escape from this madness. His children are enamoured with the beast. And when he had written to his favourite brother to complain about the matter, Baelor had written back and had dared to ask him if he was jealous that his children listened to a dog more than they listened to Maekar, at which point Baelor had been downgraded to second favourite brother in favour of Rhaegal.
His parents are of no help whatsoever; his father had written to express concerns about the safety of his grandchildren being in the care of a dog, and Maekar had been forced to write in defence of the dog, before the King decided to get rid of the dog thus undoubtedly causing a rebellion at Summerhall. His mother had advised him to take advantage of having an extra pair of hands, well… paws, to help with the children, and to relax a little.
-
Winter comes to its height, and Summerhall freezes. Even Aegon, who would sooner run around the woods than attend his lessons without being herded there, decides that a romp through the woods is not worth losing fingers to frostbite.
The entire family has taken to hiding indoors, and most recently have taken to hiding in Maekar’s solar, which is always well heated by the massive fireplace and the fire which burns constantly in the hearth there.
With dinner over and done with the family gathers there once more, and for once exist they exist in blissful peace. Maekar finds himself sat at his desk, ostensibly to respond to Baelor’s most recent letter, but in truth he finds himself listening as Daella reads aloud from a book. She’s sat close to the hearth in one of the overstuffed armchairs, Aegon and Rhae curled together in the other armchair. It’s a book of Valyrian fables, the very same that his own mother had once read to Maekar and his brothers when they were young children, and some nostalgic feeling has Maekar abandoning his letters to listen to Daella’s voice as she reads aloud.
Daeron, who had been drinking through dinner was laid flat on the floor on a rug in front of the hearth, a corked wineskin abandoned some distance away, where it had been left as Daeron fell into a restless sleep.
And between one story and the next Daeron seems to wake from his wine-soaked slumber, mumbling strange thinks and releasing the odd cry as he returns to wakefulness. It’s enough to break up the otherwise peaceful atmosphere in the solar.
So Daeron wakes, and lies there shaking from whatever dream had made its way into his subconscious. And the very first thing he does is to reach for the wineskin he had abandoned. Maekar is tempted to close his eyes, both literally, and to figuratively close his eyes to Daeron’s ever worsening problem.
And yet he does not; his eyes remain wide, and only widen further as The Mutt, which had been curled up next to the desk, rises suddenly and trots over to Daeron, still lying in front of the fire and reaching fruitlessly for the wineskin which lies just outside of his grasp.
The Mutt, comes to stand over Daeron, and then simply flops down atop Maekar’s eldest son, coming to lie over Daeron’s hips and torso, The Mutt’s head coming to rest on Daeron’s shoulder.
Daeron groans beneath the weight, hissing at the dog to move so that he can reach the wineskin. The Mutt refuses to move, and Maekar’s younger children seem to find this extremely funny. For a moment Maekar considers worrying, after all The Mutt is the size of a fucking pony and weighs as much, but for all that Daeron appears to want to escape from beneath The Mutt, he does not in fact appear to be having any trouble breathing. So Maekar remains where he is and simply watches.
He watches as Daeron gives up on attempting to move The Mutt. He watches as Daeron continues to tremble, Daerons hands clenching and unclenching. He watches as Daeron, filled with energy and needing something to do with his hands, reaches up to wrap his arms around The Mutt, sinking his fingers into the red-gold fur and twisting there, clenching the fur between his fingers.
He watches as Daerons trembles gradually slow to nothing, as he comes to lie lax beneath the bulk of The Mutt. And the peace in the solar, which had momentarily been disrupted, settles again as Daella picks up the story where she left it, and Aegon and Rhae quit their tittering at their brothers expense, to snuggle down in the armchair to listen as Daella continues.
Maekar pays attention to neither his letters, nor to Daella’s storytelling. Rather his attention is fixed upon his eldest son, and upon The Mutt which is pinning him to the floor. Daeron’s drinking, and Daeron’s dreams have both long been ignored by Maekar, in the hopes that if he ignores the problem for long enough that it will simply go away.
It has not worked thus far, but Maekar remains hopeful.
And yet he watches as Daeron settles beneath the bulk of The Mutt, and is forced to consider that ignoring the problem will not simply make it go away, but there is more that can be done.
Eventually the hours grows late and the children are sent to bed. And though Daeron does not strictly count as a child anymore, he also rouses from a rather peaceful nap on the rug in front of the fire, and follows his younger siblings out of the solar. And Maekar watches as The Mutt presses close to Daeron’s side, rather than following at Aegon’s heels as he is wont to do.
The next morning Aegon spends an entire ten minutes complaining that The Mutt had not followed him to bed. Daeron meanwhile looks to be rather better rested than he normally is, and Maekar has well founded suspicions about where exactly The Mutt spent the night.
After that evening in the solar, the odds are 50/50 about whose room The Mutt will sleep in. Maekar always knows when The Mutt has spent the night in Daerons room though, because on the mornings following those nights Daeron always looks bright eyed and well rested. Such a sight is very much worth listening to Aegon complain.