Chapter Text
Chapter One
(Two Months)
It has to be today. Dunk swallowed, readjusting his belt for the third time. It has to be today.
Two weeks had passed since their wedding. Two weeks of making love to his beautiful husband. Two weeks of pretending, just for a little while, that war did not loom on the horizon.
Two weeks of exchanging knowing smiles, the two of them sharing a secret that no one else in the world knew. Two weeks of kissing and rubbing Aerion’s still-flat belly, dreaming of meeting their pup.
But this morning, as they lazed in bed and enjoyed the pink and orange sunrise streaming in through their bedchamber window, he’d pressed his nose to Aerion’s neck and breathed in. The familiar scent of lavender and fresh spring grass greeted him. Lavender, fresh spring grass, and the faintest undercurrent of something else. Something sweet and wonderful. Almost like honey.
A new scent that curled in Dunk’s nose, making him grip Aerion just a bit tighter, eyeing the door warily and growling that it wasn’t barred.
Aerion chuckled. “Guess my scent is starting to change,” he mused sleepily.
Change…Dunk’s eyes widened, and he sniffed Aerion more intently. It was subtle, not something another person would catch unless they had their nose pressed to Aerion’s skin, but it was there.
His pregnancy scent. Almost exactly two months after the omega’s heat had ended. Almost exactly when Aerion said it would arrive.
A low rumble resonated in Dunk’s chest, and without thinking, he rubbed his face against the fresh mark he’d left on Aerion’s scent glands.
Hasn’t bitten me yet. Why hasn’t he bitten me yet? He needs to smell like me! Needs to be safe…
Aerion laughed, shimmied down in Dunk’s arms, and tapped him on the nose. “It’s time, alpha. My scent is only going to get stronger. And it’ll be far worse if he figures it out on his own.”
Dunk whined, then tugged Aerion closer, engulfing the smaller princeling fully in his arms as he continued to scent him. “But he’ll kill us.”
“Nonsense.” Aerion kissed Dunk’s cheek. “My father’s not going to kill his pregnant son. You will be the only one who dies today, Ser Duncan.”
He scowled. “This is no time to jest! He actually might kill me!”
The omega blew out a puff of air. “Oh, hush. For propriety’s sake, he’ll at least let you live until after the pup is born.”
Propriety. That was exactly it. The problem was not that Aerion was pregnant. The problem was that Aerion was two months pregnant when they’d only been married for two weeks.
Aerion wriggled out of Dunk’s grip, then gave his hip a hard smack. “Come on. He’s always in his best mood after he’s had his morning toast.”
So long as his mace is nowhere in grabbing distance…
***************
“I KNEW it!” Maekar roared an hour later. The Anvil leapt from his chair, sending the wooden seat cartwheeling back. He jabbed his finger at Dunk. “You DID impregnate my son!”
His reaction, somehow, was better than Egg’s. Dunk’s squire had followed them to Maekar’s suite, brow furrowed, clearly sensing that something was amiss. But he said nothing, not even when Aerion sent away Maekar’s knights and servants so the family might speak privately.
Now, the boy stared at Dunk and Aerion hollowly, a vacant expression in his purple eyes as he gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles whitened.
Dunk flinched, torn between comforting Egg and trying to tuck Aerion behind him to keep him safe from Maekar’s anger. But the omega merely sidestepped, rolling his eyes as his father snarled.
“What difference does it make, Father?” he said. “The pup is not a bastard.”
A lengthy discussion Dunk and Aerion had shared a week prior. Dunk knew very little of highborn laws and customs and even less about the intricacies of bastardry. Apparently, even amongst highborns the laws were murky. But according to Aerion, other omegas had married while visibly pregnant, and the children were not deemed bastards because they’d been born in wedlock.
And if we’re careful and vague, no one will know Aerion got pregnant before our wedding.
No one save for Maekar and Egg, of course.
“The point is that you LIED to me!” Maekar turned from the couple, grabbed a cup from the table, and hurled it at the wall.
“Of course I lied to you. Otherwise, I would have had to drink moon tea. And you’d have killed Ser Duncan before sending me to Lys, or the Wall, or Gods know where else.”
“Don’t you dare, Aerion,” he growled, then glared at Dunk. “Is that why the two of you were in such a hurry to marry?”
Dunk opened his mouth, but Aerion cut him off. “Ser Duncan didn’t know I was pregnant when we wed. Elsewise, he would have forbidden me from fighting the Ironborn.”
Dunk made a face. I’m still angry with you for that.
Regardless, Maekar seemed to accept the answer, drawing back and letting his growls soften to rumbles.
“What’s done is done,” he spat. “What matters now is keeping the matter quiet. Though it may not technically be a bastard, we want no questions asked. However distantly, the pup is in line to inherit the Iron Throne.”
Dunk’s hand trembled, but he massaged it.
That’s absurd. There are several people ahead of Maekar in the succession. The son of a street rat turned hedge knight will never be king.
The last of Maekar’s growls faded, face softening as he gazed at Aerion.
“In line to inherit the Iron Throne as my first grandchild…”
A moment of softness that ended far too soon. Maekar took a step closer to Aerion, started to reach for him, but then stopped himself. He drew his hand back, and his face smoothed into the iron mask of the Anvil once again.
“After the conflict with the Ironborn, I’ve written to my brother, to Lords Lannister, Redwyne, our kin from House Martell, and numerous other coastal lords who’ve grown weary of Dagon Greyjoy’s nonsense,” he declared. “In a month’s time, House Manderly will host a summit in White Harbor to discuss a strategy for putting a stop to our common enemy.”
Aerion’s eyes hardened, a slight bitterness tinging his scent. One that set Dunk’s teeth on edge, alpha instincts whispering commands to kill whomever distressed his pregnant omega.
“And I suppose you wish for me to remain here?” Aerion said. “A pregnant omega is useless, am I not?” The omega folded his arms across his chest. An excuse. Dunk saw the way Aerion’s hand skimmed almost protectively over his belly before he did it.
Maekar grimaced, then reached into his pocket and produced a small bag of coins, tossing them for Aerion to catch. “It is my wish that you procure yourself loose-fitting clothing,” he commanded. “And there’s a tea that dulls a pregnant omega’s scent for a day or so; your mother used to drink it while we were traveling. You’ll need both before we ride for White Harbor.”
Aerion’s face never changed, but his fingers shook ever-so-slightly as he gripped the bag. “You…you wish for me to be there?”
The Anvil snorted. “I didn’t just teach you to fight, boy. I taught you battle strategy. Even as a child, you would love running around Dragonstone’s painted table, plotting your imaginary wars. Did you think I gave you those lessons because I enjoyed hearing myself talk? You cannot fight while pregnant, but you can still help to plan and organize.”
Rolling his eyes, he picked up his discarded chair, righted it, then sat back down, rubbing his face.
“Furthermore, I need to ensure you are fully trained.”
“Trained?”
“I will not live forever,” Maekar continued. “You are too far down in the line of succession to ever be King, Aerion, but with Baelor and his line already dead, I need to ensure you are ready to serve as House Targaryen’s protector in matters of warfare. After myself and Bloodraven, who is older than I am, you are the only member of our family suited for the role.”
“Protector…” Aerion said the word slowly, the feel of it unfamiliar on his tongue.
Once upon a time, the thought of his chaotic omega protecting anything would have made Dunk laugh. Even now, as much as he loved him, he could not deny his omega was capable of great cruelty and destruction. But nor could he deny Aerion’s skill set. His firsthand training from one of the greatest warriors of his age.
Yes. Yes, I think he can do it with a bit more training. And Dunk would be right by his side. His alpha. His partner. The one person who could (hopefully) keep him in check if the rage within began to burn out of control.
And one day, he will pass the same lessons onto our pups.
The bitterness faded from Aerion’s scent, replaced by only the faintest hint of pain. His face did not change, but Dunk recognized the stiffness in his posture.
Run to your father and hug him, you stubborn pain in the ass, Dunk wanted to say. But he kept his mouth shut. A pair of stubborn dragons, father and son. They weren’t ready yet. Pain and hurt still lingered on both sides, and the process couldn’t be rushed. Even now.
It might have been a beautiful moment between father and son all the same…were it not for the way Egg quietly and discreetly made his way for the door. Until he moved, Dunk had all but forgotten he was there. Something Maekar and Aerion were clearly guilty of as well.
“Aegon, I have not dismissed you,” Maekar called as Egg gripped the door. But the boy ignored him, whipping it open and running through into the hall.
“Fuck.” Maekar groaned.
“You two stay. I’ll go,” Dunk offered, kissing Aerion’s cheek. It grated at him to let his pregnant omega out of his sight, but he’d be well protected with his father. And Maekar and Aerion needed time to talk.
But Aerion, apparently, had little left to say. He turned to his father and held up the bag of coin.
“Thank you, Father,” he said stiffly. “I’ll ensure I have what I need before we ride for White Harbor.”
Progress, Dunk silently cheered. But a true celebration would have to wait until after he finished speaking to his squire.
****************
He caught up to him fairly quickly. Egg was small and quick, but Dunk’s longer legs meant greater strides. He followed the young boy’s scent, tracking him to the stable where he had gone to visit the horses. A farce, of course. The truth was written in the tears in Egg’s eyes. Tears he determinedly held back.
“Egg?” he called, watching as the boy approached Aerion’s new war horse. A strong destrier with well-defined muscles and a brilliant red coat. Maekar had given the horse to Aerion as a wedding present to replace Urrax.
“Caraxes needs to be brushed,” Egg explained stiffly, reaching for a hard-bristled comb. “It’s good for me to do it so he gets used to me tending him while we’re riding together.”
“You brushed him last night,” Dunk reminded him gently. “And he hasn’t been let out to graze yet this morning.”
Egg ignored him, brushing the horse’s flank. Not that Caraxes was complaining. If anything, the horse whickered at the sensation.
Dunk let the silence hang for a moment, then picked up a brush as well to give Chestnut an unnecessary grooming.
“Is it the pup, the war summit, or your father?” Dunk asked as he combed.
Egg didn’t answer. All three, then.
“We won’t be traveling together anymore, will we, Ser?” Egg finally asked.
“I’ll still be a knight,” Dunk said. “And you’ll still be my squire. I’ll need your help, especially with the war coming.”
“But after the war is finished?” Egg asked. “It won’t be like it was. Us traveling together on the open road. Seeing the Seven Kingdoms. Having adventures. Making friends along the way. You can’t live that way with a pup. Aerion will want it to have a home, and it pains me to admit he’s right.” Egg sighed. “And it won’t even be for just a few years. Aerion wants several pups.”
Dunk’s hand stilled. If he were to be truly honest, he would miss all of that as well. The freedom of being a hedge knight. But it was a price he was happy to pay. He traded it for the man he loved. For the tiny pup growing in Aerion’s belly, with many more pups to come. He traded it for the family he’d always longed for. For stability. A home. A true chance to leave his mark on history. To help Aerion shape Westeros in any future wars to come.
Yes, it was a price he was more than happy to pay.
But Dunk had been traveling with Ser Arlan since he was a child. He’d had many adventures. Years of sleeping under the stars and exploring their country. Meanwhile, Egg’s experience had been cut drastically short.
“Adventures come in many forms,” Dunk reasoned. “But no, it won’t be like it was.”
Egg brushed harder and found an itchy spot on Caraxes’s hind leg. The horse let out a happy whinny.
“I don’t want to go back, Ser,” he whispered. “To Summerhall or to King’s Landing.”
Dunk nodded sympathetically. “You’ve only seen one battle. One small taste of what war is like. If this situation with the Ironborn is as bad as your father expects, you may soon long for the comforts of home.”
The boy scowled, his entire face twisted. “With Father ‘training’ Aerion?” he said. “Or when the new…”
He stopped himself, but Dunk heard the unspoken words anyway. He saw them in Egg’s eyes when they announced that Aerion was pregnant.
Egg looked up at him, face smooth once again. “I’m happy for you, Ser,” he clarified. “I know you want to be a father. Aerion is…well, he’s Aerion. But his pups will also be your pups. And that’s a wonderful thing. But…”
“I’m not angry that you’re worried, Egg,” he clarified. “But I think you and Aerion might both be happier if you’d talk to each other.”
Egg flinched, as if Dunk had struck him. “He…”
“I know what he did,” he rushed. “And I will never ask you to forgive him. Not unless you decide that you want to.”
Egg’s shoulders relaxed, but only slightly. “Then…”
“I’ve heard both sides of the story,” Dunk explained. “You’re worried about him, and now his pup, taking your place. And he spent the last eight years worried that you would be an alpha and end up taking his place.”
He paused. “I thought he was going to leave me after I defended you when he pushed you,” he admitted.
They brushed the horses in silence for a few moments longer, Egg chewing on his lip.
“But I’ve never taken anything from him, Ser,” Egg said. “He was always the one who had all of Father’s attention. I think he might have been Mother’s favorite as well, but I don’t really remember. She died when I was little.”
A lesson for when I become a father, Dunk vowed. All of my pups get equal attention. No one gets favored.
“Aerion’s fear might have been unfounded, but it was a real fear,” Dunk said. “You’ve seen it yourself how omegas are treated. How he forever needs to prove himself a skilled knight.”
Egg didn’t answer.
“You and your brother will likely never be close,” Dunk said. “But if the two of you talk? Stop being afraid of each other?” He shrugged. “Might lead to a permanent truce, at least.”
Silence stretched until they finished up the horses, then worked together to groom Thunder as well.
“I think I would like the idea of a permanent truce,” Egg at last agreed.
Dunk gave Egg a playful nudge. “Look at it this way,” he said. “My pup will have you as an uncle. And I’ll make sure I always tell him how wonderful his uncle is. One day, mayhaps he’ll be squiring for you.”
Egg smiled.
“And we’ll still have adventures together,” Dunk promised. “Lots of them. Remember, no matter how many pups your brother and I have, they won’t be little forever.”
They finished Thunder’s grooming, then hung up the brushes.
“For now, though, focus on getting ready for the war summit,” Dunk encouraged. “Maekar’s a loving father under that Anvil mask of his. So don’t wait around for him to offer you attention. Involve yourself. Insist on playing a role and learning.” He grinned and cuffed his shoulder. “The way you insisted on being my squire, no matter how I tried to send you away.”
Egg laughed and nodded, his scent bright and happy again as they made their way out of the stables and back to the suite so they could change into their training clothes.
I have to be ready for the war summit too, he thought. Because when my pup is born, I want him born into a realm of peace. For however long that peace might last.