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Maekar had never known true darkness, the kind that swallows up even the faintest flicker of light in on´s heart, not until his brother fell unconscious after the battle at Ashford and remained so for the days to come.
the period of living in the deepest pits of purgatory, before Baelor opened his eyes again, taught Maekar with painful clarity just how spoiled he had been all his life, so very spoiled. the sky remained fittingly gray and gloomy with no breaking of the clouds in sight while Baelor was suspended between life and death and it made him realize that he had been warmed by not just one but two suns ever since he had been born, one far away, made of fire, and one right next to him, made of flesh and blood, his beloved big brother, the warmest man of them all, in every sense of the word.
for the first time ever, both sources of warmth were entirely out of his reach, which left him frozen to the core with a kind of coldness that made the memories of winter seem like spring. Maekar was convinced that no man had ever felt as drained of heat as he did during that eclipse of the golden light that was his brother´s presence, those days and nights of paralyzing dread, of no mercy on his already burdened heart. Maekar had never lived a second of his life while his brother´s spirit was entirely out of reach and he would have gladly given up the sun up in the sky in exchange for his brother´s survival, without a doubt, Maekar would´ve gladly watched the seas freeze over, the flowers wilt away, and the crops turn to dust forever, if only the gods would give him his brother back.
Maekar would always feel safe and warm in Baelor´s shadow, he knew that as long as he was near him, he could bear anything, but not on his own, so, a threat to Baelor´s life also posed one to his own.
the three days and nights after Baelor was saved from succumbing to his injury but remained asleep were a complete haze for Maekar, every hour that he spent outside of his brother´s chambers was irrelevant to him, so they all ended up blending together into one dark blur in his memory. he spent the time apart from Baelor on auto-pilot which turned him clumsy, he spilled his drinks, misplaced all of his personal items, bumped into furniture, dropped objects he couldn´t recall picking up, and spaced out for hours, staring blankly into space until his eyes burned.
people knew better than to approach him in his unbearable almost-grief, so they mostly left him be. his sons were taken care of, he knew vaguely what Daeron and Aegon were up to, and the rest of his children were safe for the time being, which was at least a small mercy, the fact that he could focus on his brother and his brother alone, let him be the sole occupant of his every waking thought, every dream, every nightmare, every little fleeting impulse until he felt like he was nothing but a vessel for images of Baelor, a rotten, haunted house shaken by the wind of his brother´s imagined voice, torn apart by memories of him that wouldn´t stop assaulting him with their past shared tenderness, the walls of his spirit rattled and nearly torn to shreds by terror at the thought of never getting to add another one to it again.
only when he was by his brother´s bedside did he suddenly feel strong and capable again, lucid and fully aware of every little change in Baelor´s physicality, a complete switch to how he felt outside of that chamber, his reflexes suddenly sharper than ever, perfect even, because he refused to miss even the faintest word or blink or twitch that could´ve indicated a change for the better. the only thing that got him to stay apart from Baelor during that time was the knowledge that Valarr was with him.
Maekar knew it would´ve been an insult to extend a kind word or gesture towards his suffering nephew when he was the very reason for his agony, but still, it shamed him to know for certain that Baelor would have comforted even Aerion if their tables had been turned. the young prince was most likely crying himself into a fit each time he visited his father´s bedside, each time he curled up by his side like a little dragon while caressing his beard, the way he always had as a little boy, and beginning him to please stay with him. Maekar knew that Baelor sometimes felt guilty of coddling his son, and perhaps he was, yes, but truthfully he couldn´t blame him, since the boy had inherited a good amount of his father´s beauty, down to the shade of his eyes, a softer version of Baelor´s charms, less confidence to him and less command too, but something vulnerable that made his pretty face stand out amongst those of harsher men, not unpleasantly so. he knew that him and his nephew shared the feeling that they would perish without Baelor and therefor gave him the hours he needed to watch over him and take some comfort in the weak but steady rising of his father´s chest. as different as they were, Valarr and Maekar shared a similar fate: they loved Baelor fiercely and knew that they would never match up to his wit, his confidence, his goodness. he would´ve been glad to have a son like him, whose worst crimes were only harmful to himself, not others. shame and more shame, some days he marveled at how much of it he could carry without breaking.
Maekar had never been a faithful man; he did not understand how people could worship gods who allowed cruel turns of fate for the innocent, but, as all people who didn´t fancy themselves believers, Maekar did feel called to pray in moments of utter distress, during pregnancies, illnesses of loved ones, and of course, more than ever, when he needed to plead and beg for Baelor´s swift return to the realm of the living.
his brother´s life was the only thing he was willing to debase himself for in front of the gods.
he came to them desperate and beaten down when he found the sept at Ashford. as he muttered his own words he could almost hear all the other prayers across the realm that were being sent up to the heavens by everyone who wanted the heir healthy again, not just for his sake but their own, so he thought: listen to them all, if not to me, listen to all those prayers and his son´s too, I know they outnumber those that were ever uttered for our father, so if you need to take someone, take the king, or if you want a true sacrifice, a wrong order of departure: take me, the younger brother, but not him, please not him, please, please, please.
Maekar hurt himself on purpose by kneeling on the stone-floor without cushions for far too long, when he pushed his fingers into the hot wax at the base of the flame to feel his flesh burn, when he nearly passed out from his lack of sleep and sustenance right then and there, since any care for his well-being had vanished from his soul the second his brother´s started to be jeopardy.
he starved himself, refused to light his fire at night, and did not let the maesters apply healing salves to his wounds. the only tending to himself that he could stomach in that period of stubborn penance was a ritual of hygiene, in fact, he cleaned himself to a point of pain, rubbed himself red and raw and still felt dirty afterwards, like he was poisoning the air around his injured brother simply by standing there and breathing.
Baelor smelled good even when he hadn´t been washed since the night prior, even when the scent of his bloodied bandages mixed with the herbal tinctures and stale air from the room that could not be aired out for too long, lest he succumb to a mere cold in his critical condition. despite all of it, his big brother still smelled like himself, comfortingly manly, faintly sweet, like that thin layer of sweat after a good sparring match, and something entirely himself too. it took all of Maekar´s willpower not to get too close and breathe it all in like he would perish without it, which he would, gods he would, the mere thought of Baelor´s body being reduced to ashes, either soon or, gods willing, many years down the line, seemed wrong, so very wrong to him. his brother was a god to him, invincible, untouchable, so the fact that death could claim his brother´s body filled him not just with pain but rage. how dare anyone put an end to such beauty? such a perfect example of a human? such a blessing to the earth? the whiffs of Baelor´s scent that he got while standing beside him had to be enough, Maekar felt entirely too undeserving of anything closer, anything that would´ve made his eyes flutter shut in pleasure.
for many hours he cowered in the corner of Baelor´s temporary chambers like a big snow-tiger liking its wounds, silently hurting, brooding, somewhat relieved by the sting of his physical aches, both the self-inflicted and battle-earned ones, since he couldn´t have handled being entirely unscathed while looking at his brother´s bandaged head. he probably would´ve found ways to injure himself further, had he not gotten a few good blows in battle already, but it was a fruitless endeavor to try and atone in such crude ways, no possible punishment seemed brutal enough, even dying in Baelor´s stead seemed like too harmless for what he had done to him, so he curled up in a chair by the window and wore his signature scowl like a while the maestars and maids quietly cared for Baelor every few hours.
Maekar came to the bitter conclusion that Baelor had deserved a better brother, that it must´ve been a lonely feeling for him all his life to be so good while most men around him rarely possessed as much as half of that goodness. he started to grow ashamed thinking about all the hours he had spent by his brother´s side, all the time he had stolen from, time he could´ve spent with a more deserving man, perhaps an identical twin who matched him in his radiance, his benevolence and worthiness, a truly gallant knight who wouldn´t accidentally hurt him to a point of near-death due to his idiot son´s folly. it was horrible for him to think about Aerion, the boy who had sprung from his own loins, and what might´ve been prevented if he had simply withdrawn his claim or had fought the knight like a brave man, one versus one. he had failed and failed and failed again, as a son, as a father, and finally also as a brother. it was all too much.
when Maekar dared to sit by his brother´s bedside, to take his hand in his own for the first time since he had lost the light in his eyes, the dam broke at last and he cried bitter, almost childlike tears, his whole body shaking as his beard turned damp and his vision blurred to a point of blindness. he tried to calm himself by mimicking Baelor´s slow, even breaths and reminded himself: he is alive, he is not gone, his heart is beating evenly, listen to him, listen and copy it.
Baelor ran hot, he always had, unlike Maekar, and yet he always had dry hands, they were never clammy, never unpleasant to touch, even in the depths of grave illness, and Maekar found himself marvelling at it then: his brother´s handsome, slender fingers clasped by his own thicker ones. the spontaneous awe for his brother´s hands was the thing that got him to stop crying. he felt like a little boy again in that moment, utterly in awe of Baelor, begging for more time alone, just the two of them.
it was a rare privilege to get to look at his brother without averting his gaze even once. yes, the reasoning was awful, but Maekar couldn´t help it, he had always loved to simply gaze at Baelor, so he allowed himself that one simple joy in the midst of all the pain: holding his brothers hand and watching him, being a loving witness, a shield between Baelor and any potential further harm.
a few more tears spilled down his scarred cheeks as it occurred to him that Baelor would be able recognize him by touch alone, no doubt about it after so many years of intimacy, which made him imagine - with a feverish kind of hope - that he was reaching into that realm of nothingness where Baelor was still trapped and coaxing him out, leading him back towards the living. without meaning to, without even realizing, Maekar started to draw the gentlest circles with his thumb across Baelor´s palm while whispering “come back to me, please. come back”, over and over, barely audible, and yet unmatched in urgency.
Maekar´s heart nearly gave out when he felt the faintest squeeze from Baelor´s hand. he told himself that it was just a twitch, a mere spasm of pain, but deep down he hoped that his presence had registered somewhere in the depths of Baelor´s soul.
it had only been two days since he had last spoken to him but Maekar already missed so many things about the familiar rhythm of their days together, the even closer bond they´d developed ever since they´d both left widowed, almost like they were now raising their children as a set of parents. he missed waking up and knowing he would soon be met by Baelor´s warm yet teasing smile, so much so that he felt like he was a toddler again, the little boy who ran after Baelor wherever he went, who had scraped his knees more than once in the desperate attempt to find his older brother across the yard and to be swept up into his loving arms once more, to have his hair ruffled, his cheek kissed, his presence cherished instead of merely tolerated.
never once did he run to his mother like that, nor his father, only ever Baelor. that´s how he felt when he realized that he was just as eager to follow his brother into death if that´s where he was headed, he would find a way to do it, shameful as it was to admit: he would be ready to leave his children behind prematurely if he was about to lose his brother.
the term “brother” often felt inadequate to Maekar, since there were other men in his life that he addressed with the same title, it felt like blasphemy to him that they shared it, that there was no clear distinction between his other male siblings and his… well, what was Baelor to him? how could he possibly begin to describe it? there was no word that could encompass the sheer depth of his feelings for him, not a single one.
Maekar could try and describe him in more abstract ways, perhaps by saying that his big brother was the human embodiment of the euphoria one feels after a particularly stubborn ache suddenly subsides, that he was the first mild day filled with bird-song after a cruel, silent winter, that he was the first rush of fresh air one takes in after staying under water for a moment too long. plainly put: his brother offered him continuous relief in a world of continuous pain, Baelor was the antidote to every single poison that had ever seeped into Maekar´s heart, he was the sound of tear-eyed laughter, yes, that was his brother, the miracle of hearing a loved one laugh after an agonizing few minutes of hearing them sob, that was his effect, his gentle power.
one more time. he needed his brother to be his relief one more time by waking up from his dangerously deep sleep, and afterwards Maekae would never ask for a single instance of relief ever again, he would be grateful for even the harshest of treatments from his brother, even a punch from him would feel like a blessing from that point on.
on that third day of hoping and praying he tore himself away from Baelor´s side once it was time for them to change his bandages again and retreated to his own chambers with the phantom of his brother´s hand still lingering on his own, unable to say whether the pain or the comfort of it was the stronger sensation.
the next morning, just after sunrise, when Baelor´s eyes opened for the first time in nearly seventy-two hours, Maekar was summoned and had trouble believing the words they were saying as they led him down the halls to be reunited with his brother: “he is awake, he is stable for now, and he is asking for you”. his heart beat out of his chest when he passed the threshold of Baelor´s chambers and saw the maids scurrying away in a haste to let the two princes have privacy in such a precious moment.
he thought his eyes were deceiving him when he saw his brother sitting propped up on his pillows. he stood frozen in place and refused to make a move until he heard it, “come. come closer, please” in his brother´s achingly lovely voice, a little weak, yes, but distinctly his perfect voice.
Maekar refused to add his own to it, he couldn´t, what on earth could he have possibly said? but he obeyed and walked until he stood right next to Baelor´s bedside. in an instant, he dropped to his knees, hid his face in the bedding right next to his brother´s leg, clutched one of his hand in both of his own and kissed it, over and over again, no words, just kisses. he refused to say “forgive me”, “I am sorry”, I apologize” or anything else of the sort, it would have been foolish to think such trivial words were appropriate after what he´d done to him, the kinds of things you say to someone after spilling wine on them, not after nearly slaughtering them.
Maekar was sickened by the possibility of seeing anger in Baelor´s eyes once he´d dare to look into them, seeing distance and coldness; he wouldn´t survive it after all those years of never seeing even a hint of it directed at himself, no nightmare frightened him more than being kept at arm´s length by Baelor, it would be better than losing him entirely, obviously, but it seemed to him an almost equally horrific fate.
he needed him. he needed his affection so much that it rendered him a trembling mess as he stayed in that position of both love and surrender, submission even, and then - gods be good - he felt something he was not prepared for in the least: Baelor´s free hand, on his head, patting him in a deeply paternal manner. his breath hitched as he stopped kissing Baelor´s other hand and heard the gentle voice above him “I am going to be alright now, brother. we will be both alright. it´s all over now, a new dawn has come. you may rise now and look at me. let me see you” - a challenge? a plea?
Maekar slowly lifted his head and looked up at Baelor. those piercing eyes. they were open. one blue, one brown, not shut anymore but blinking right at him. the sun was up again at last. it felt like his face was bathed in the first rays of sunlight after years without it, his blood rushed hot and fast in response, he flushed, he breathed heavy, and then all the fear that he had been swallowing and choking on for the past three days came gushing out at once, he burst into tears and muffled his sobs in his palms as Baelor beckoned him up and made him rest right by his side the way a whimpering dog might next to his owner after thinking he´d lost him in the woods.
later on, he wouldn´t be able to recall much of that blessed day, only his brother´s hands, his low voice murmuring assuring things that he did not deserve one bit, and drifting off slumped over Baelor´s legs, sleeping in utter exhaustion until evening. he remained delirious as Baelor dismissed all other visitors for the time being and fell asleep alongside him, both of them healing each other like two injured dragons huddled up in their cave after being tossed through the skies by a storm.
the following days, Maekar refused to leave his brother´s side unless it was deemed absolutely necessary, when it was Valarr´s turn, and when he had to let kind strangers do the work that he wished he could´ve done instead: cleaning and redressing his wound, feeding him clear soup, checking his pulse, his vision, his progress.
on the second day of Baelor being awake again he required a bath and he refused to let a stranger help him, since it was too intimate for him to sit in the tub with anyone nearby that wasn´t his own staff, a lover, or a family member. Maekar qualified as two of those, so he was the chosen helper in his brother´s quest to finally feel clean from the neck down.
Maekar was nearly moved to tears, again, when he saw how steadily his brother was able to walk; he had expected him to cling to his arm, to require a lot of help, but he walked the way he usually did, only a little slower and with more caution. once they were in the washing room, Maekar made sure that the water was not too hot but still hot enough for his brother´s liking, since he knew how much Baelor detested a bath that was too cool to feel properly sanitized.
after he ever-so gently guided his brother into the tub, Maekar obeyed the simple order “rub me down with that soap, please” and used a soft wash-cloth to clean his back, his underarms, and then his chest. Baelor could´ve washed his front side, that much energy was back in his system by then, but he wanted Maekar to do it, so he did, methodical and tender with it as he made sure no part of Baelor was left untouched by water, except his poor head.
when he worked his way down his brother´s chest, he could feel him looking at him from up-close and stopped what he was doing entirely when Baelor leaned forward and rested his forehead against the side of his face with a deep sigh. was it relief? pain? the weight of their unspoken but unwavering love? Maekar suspected it was all three at once and breathed in unison with him as he kept his hand pressed right above Baelor´s heart and felt him keep it in place with his own. the hot steam turned both of their faces damp and blushed as they stayed like that for a minute and shared a kind of intimacy that rivaled any kind they had experienced before.
it hurt Maekar to be trusted and touched so softly by the man he´d put in such danger, it hurt him the way rubbing-alcohol hurts an open wound in danger of infection, with the kind of pain that was necessary in order to heal and move forward, away from the traumatic event.
Maekar could not be accused of having a low appetite in regards to passion, but during that bath he was not aroused by his brother's physique, he was only humbled by it, to his very core. he still got flustered at his grown age whenever he looked at Baelor´s nude form for a moment too long, which almost made him drop the towel when he helped him dry off, his body trembling with an acute sense of “look at him…my perfect brother”.
Maekar adored every single scar that adorned Baelor´s skin and could probably name the source of each one. he had always had an obsession with his back in particular, his entire backside for that matter, so he had often ended up as big spoon even though Baelor was fond of that position himself. he couldn´t say how many times he´d nuzzled himself into Baelor´s neck and kissed him there, hundreds if not thousandths of times, and still, the mere sight of his tan skin made him weak in the knees.
during those initial days of being together again after such a horrific event, they found their way back to each other without the use of many words; there was a desperation on both ends to melt into one and to bridge the distance that they had been forced into be such a cruel twist of fate, so they let their bodies do the speaking, their caresses, their glances, their embraces, every little touch that assured themselves and the other man: I am here, and so are you, we are together again and shall be as such for many more years.
it was hard for Maekar not to flinch away out of guilt but he reminded himself that it would be highly shameful to succumb to his weaker impulses while his brother was showing such immense endurance, “take him as an example” he kept telling himself, “be more like him”, “do not let your guilt prevent him from getting the care he needs from you.” it was easier said than done but each time Baelor rested his cheek against Maekar´s shoulder and held his hand during a nap, he knew that he was doing something right at least, and in those moments he found a fragile, egg-shell delicate sense of peace for the first time since he had prepared himself and his sons for battle on that wretched morning a mere week ago.
Maekar had spent a majority of his life rivaling Baelor not just in height but in stature, they had been an even match in regards to their physicality for decades by that point, but he would always think of himself as much smaller in Baelor´s presence, forever the little one in their dynamic, gladly so, which meant that he was clueless to Baelor´s feelings when he held him close to his chest. his brother, while still recovering from his severe head trauma, felt a distinctly fatherly energy radiate from Maekar during those hours of being taken care of him.
Baelor couldn´t remember ever feeling as safe in his father´s arms as he did in his little brother´s. nobody had ever held him with such fierce protectiveness and nobody else would have ever been allowed to.
after one of the baths that Maekar helped him take, Baelor asked him to please help him apply his oils, the ones he liked to use before bed, both for the scent and the moisture, especially sandalwood and orange blossom, a mix that dizzied Maekar the second he opened the vials and got a whiff of them: he was instantly reminded of all the times he´d fallen asleep covered in a sheen of them after they had rubbed off on him during their loving.
it was one of Baelor´s best kept secrets that his brother had the gentlest hands he had ever felt, even gentler than his late wife´s or any other lover he had ever taken to bed, it was a rare privilege for someone to know that Maekar's bristly attitude and aptitude for scowling were misleading, very much so, and Baelor loved being one of the lucky few.
being an expecting father during six pregnancies had left Maekar with a lot of knowledge about massaging away tension, he didn´t fancy himself an expert in many areas of life, but he did pride himself on his ability to make a loved one relax, his awareness of how to best spoil their aching bodies with the right kind of touch. his brother´s body, yes, that was one thing he was an expert on by that time, that he could claim for himself, so he rubbed the oils between his big palms to warm them up and got to work, careful and slow with it, keenly aware of every little reaction from Baelor, when to ease up and when to increase the pressure a bit, an attentive translator of his brother´s body language, always.
Baelor felt good, very good as Maekar pressed his thumbs into his neck, his shoulders, and ran them all the way down his spine, so he made little “hmmm” sounds and gave faint nods in approval as his head lolled to the front and his tense limbs loosened up bit by bit.
Maekar had tended to him in similar ways many times in the past when Baelor had complained of soreness, oftentimes letting it evolve into something far from innocent, but right then Maekar had no desire to ruin the sacred feeling of healing his injured brother´s body, to think of his own needs, it didn´t even cross his mind. of course he registered that Baelor was a gorgeous man, that his skin felt like home, that he would´ve liked to touch him all night, but he didn´t push anything, he only rubbed him up and down his back in long, generous movements of his palms, methodical and devoted, eager to please, to help, to make himself useful for Baelor, his main objective for the rest of his life, if he was being truthful.
Maekar´s care left Baelor speechless and boneless by the end, which warmed his weary heart quite a bit, he was glad to see his eyes droop in relaxation and his body melt like butter as he maneuvered him back down onto the sheets and tucked him in for the night. Maekar forgot himself for a moment and had no time to feel embarrassed when he followed his instinct to lean down and caress his brother´s face, the way one might caress a sick child´s, his thumb briefly tracing Baelor´s bottom lip, his chin, the familiar feel of his beard, soft and coarse at the same time, and he also forgot himself when he leaned in even further to press a chaste but lingering kiss to those lips he had missed very dearly.
it only lasted about a second before he pulled himself together and backed away, but Baelor protested with a quiet groan and whispered into the dark “a proper one, please…”, so Maekar obliged and cradled his face with both hands to give him a kiss goodnight that he would´ve given him after a long night of passion: more pressure, more eagerness, more need palpable in the way he kissed his brother and sighed when he felt him reach up to grab the back of his head, to keep him in place for just a moment longer. they´d kissed so many times before but Maekar kept discovering over and over that there were endless ways to kiss a loved one, and so many firsts to be had, even many decades into a relationship. that one was a first. he couldn´t say exactly how, but it was special, a moment to keep close to his heart for the rest of his days.
“if anything happens, if you wake up feeling any worse, make them call for me” were always the parting words at night during those days of recovery, and that night Baelor smiled when he heard them. “I feel good brother” he insisted, “you´ve made sure of it, thoroughly. sleep now. for me.” for him, alright, that he could do. he had to sleep to be strong for Baelor the coming day. the words always dried up on Maekar´s tongue before he could utter them, but each night when he left Baelor´s room his head was ringing with the same echo: I love you, I love you, I love you.
he went back to bed after that massage and rubbed the excess oils onto his own chest to fall asleep imagining that he could still smell it because he was sleeping face-to-face with Baelor.
the following day, when Maekar helped Baelor fluff out his pillows, he could sense that his brother´s patience was wearing thin.
it was no secret that Baelor was the type to scoff at the idea of prolonged breaks from his duties and that he prided himself on his stability, both the physical and mental kind, which was now being tested more than ever before.
Maekar knew that he was probably already worried about potential rumors concerning the lasting impact of his injury, his capability to rule one day, potential brain damage, he knew that Baelor could not stand the idea of letting anyone find even the smallest fault with him, but it was rather clear to him that people would find glory in the story of his survival instead of reason for doubt, that he was muvh too beloved to be cast aside that easily by his supporters, but still, he could feel that Baelor didn´t like relying on others as much as he had to, that he felt hurt in his pride.
where Maekar was perhaps a bit feeble and prone to dramatics, Baelor was stoic to a fault and made a habit of insisting he wasn´t sick even when everyone in the room could hear his stuffy nose. it was a welcome bright spot in their day when it was remarked upon that Baelor was healing faster than expected, that the swelling had gone down further and that he felt no dizziness anymore either, only a bone-deep tiredness. it would pass. that was the sentiment that made both of the princes feel much lighter than the days before, the injury would leave a scar but the maesters were fairly certain that no lasting damage had been done to his brain.
both of them found that those hours of illness and care-taking held an unexpected kind of eroticism, it brought them closer in other ways than before, and it was the simple things that registered as deeply intimate: the slow, cautious movements, Maekar helping Baelor change his position in bed to be more comfortable, all the little moans and sighs of either relief of strain, the sweat-damp skin, the flush, the labored breaths, Baelor´s dependence on his brother´s strength while he was weakened, much like a more submissive lover in bed after one too many rounds of being pleasured by their beloved.
as much as Maekar was glad to be tough for his brother, to feel like he was atoning for his grave sin in a practical manner, he was starting to miss the delight of being overpowered by his brother, so much so that the memory of him dismounting from his horse during battle started to turn him on and make him teary-eyed at the same time when he thought of it for too long. “he will be that strong enough to best me in a fight again one day” he reminded himself “who if not him could bounce back from an injury like that?”.
that new layer to their relationship was one Maekar could have of course gladly gone without but he allowed himself to find slivers of joy in seeing Baelor improve bit by bit right in front of his eyes: the soft smile while he was sleeping soundly, the way he held onto his upper arm when Maekar led him across the room, or simply just reading to him from a book while teasing Baelor about how much he probably wished to return to his desk already.
usually, it was the other way around because Baelor was the better orator between the two of them and Maekar adored his voice as everyone did, partially because it reminded him of Baelor reading to him when he was still a little boy in need of bedtime stories. during moments of deep distress, dark nights when Maekar was riddled with fear about his children and his inadequacy as a father, Baelor often told him to come and stay in his chamber for a bit while he read to him, it didn´t happen often, but when it did, Maekar always fell asleep within mere minutes. he was sure that his own voice was no match for his brother´s but apparently it was, since Baelor chastised him for putting the book down too fast, “keep going, that was barely half a chapter, come on”.
the close brush with death changed things, there was a sudden awareness of what could be lost, what almost had been, so every second they spend together was now charged with the unspoken plea directed at the gods “please give us more time, more years, don´t take either of us too soon”.
sometime around the fifth or sixth day of Baelor´s healing process, there was suddenly room for humor again between all the worry, so as Maekar was picking up a cloth that had fallen to the floor and groaned comically loud, Baelor chuckled and said “gods. I think you need a maester more than me today, brother”.
“well, I have aged a million years in the past week, so. medical miracle that I can even walk.” it didn´t go unnoticed by Baelor, who was too attentive too miss it, that Maekar had stopped cursing, almost entirely, seemingly because he was scared to sound aggressive or to startle Baelor. it was endearing to him but he did miss their familiar back-and-forth, so he dared to be audacious in his response to try and make his brother less timid aroung him: “hm, I couldn´t imagine why”.
Maekar raised his eyebrows in surprise and almost let out a scandalized gasp but he had to laugh. he did. damn his brother for lightening the mood where it wasn´t deserved on Maekar´s part, for being so charming and gentle with him while he felt like he should be spending his days getting whipped and flogged in a cellar for what he did to him.
his staring habit hadn´t gotten any better, in fact it had gotten worse while he constantly checked that Baelor was conscious, eating and drinking enough, not looking sickly, and yes, for the simple viewing pleasure too, that too, always. he found his place in a chair next to Baelor´s bed and almost flushed in embarrassment when his brother clocked the intense attention on his side profile and turned to him with a smirk while asking “what? do I look that pitiful?”. he was jesting, of course, so Maekar scoffed quietly and shook his head “no. even now, after so many days of being bed-bound, you still look infuriatingly handsome, brother.”
he didn´t often compliment Baelor that plainly, so it made the injured prince´s eyes crinkle with a very genuine smile of surprised delight. if he could still have that effect on him, then perhaps not everything was lost.
“surely my beard is a little unruly by now, in dire need of a trim” Baelor said as he rubbed over his face.
“it suits you” Maekar insisted, to which Baelor had another quick retort, “hm, you just like it when I look much older than you, admit it”. whether he was referring to Maekar´s vanity as the younger man out of the two of them or his erotic affinity for Baelor´s signs of aging, Maekar couldn´t say, but it was probably a mix of both.
“oh please, you never look older than me, even when I sleep eight hours and you stay up all night, and you know it. and don´t even think about a trim, I won´t let anyone near you with even the dullest scissors in the realm any time soon, not a chance. get used to your rugged look for now.” he paused and then added a follow-up thought in a quieter tone “I dare say many ladies would appreciate it.”
Baelor cocked his head and seemed rather amused by his brother´s notion, “well, as you may recall, there are no ladies in my life as of now”. it was true, he didn´t have a wife, of course, no female lovers that Maekar knew of either, no daughters or nieces that he lived with, only his maids, but he was not the type to mix work and pleasure in such crude ways. no ladies, indeed.
“I bet you´d prefer that, a dazzling wife by your side doting on you instead of…this” Maekar said and vaguely gestured at himself sounding dejected, sad even, which roused Baelor´s concern. it was no secret that Maekar had often wondered why his brother gave him the time of day when any lady nearby would´ve gladly taken his spot and let Baelor do whatever the hell he wanted to her. it was absurd to him that his brother had ever taken him to bed when so many dashing knights and beautiful women would´ve killed to do the same, he could´ve had an army of stunning lovers if he so pleased, and yet…
it did not help Maekar´s confidence that he knew Baelor had a bigger appetite for female company than he did while he himself enjoyed watching his brother bed women more than he enjoyed bedding them himself, if he was being fully honest. he had desired his wife greatly, with his half a dozen children to prove it, but she had been an exception for the most part. Maekar wondered if he was wired the way he was because Baelor had been his first, while his brother´s first had been a precious girl. maybe he would be more like him if he had spent his boyhood chasing after some other father´s pretty daughter instead of his own father´s first-born son. who could say.
Baelor´s tone suddenly turned serious and stern when he detected the familiar self-consciousness in his little brother´s demeanor and shut it down with a decisive “hush, don´t even start. none of that, you hear me?”.
Maekar couldn´t stand to be uplifted by his brother, not anymore, not when he felt like he was the worst man alive. the days before, neither of them had mentioned the unspeakable, the incident that had caused their prolonged stay at Ashford - the issue hung in the air at all times like thick smoke and both of them had silently agreed to ignore it but Maekar couldn´t take it anymore, he had to remind his brother that he had almost killed him and that he should stop being so good to him.
“rumors are spreading already, Baelor. people are whispering about me… about kin-slaying. they think I meant to harm you.” his head hung low, his gaze was cast to his own lap. shame was starting to sound like a euphemism for the wretched feeling that was eating him from the inside out.
“and what ever for? what reason could you possibly have had to harm me now at our grown age? after all that we have survived together? huh?”. it was a good argument, it was true that it made no sense to accuse him of ill-will towards his brother when it was a known fact that they behaved as two halves of one, willingly and gladly so, but he also knew that gossip did not follow the rules of logic or evidence. if people wanted someone to blame for their fear of losing their already-revered future king, he was the suitable target, deservedly so.
it pained Baelor to realize just how far into the pits of guilt Maekar had fallen, so he declared with his familiar tone of unwavering authority “I shall make it known that no friend of mine and no true supporter would ever entertain such vicious lies about my beloved brother. ever.”
“beloved”... the word hit Maekar right in the chest, it physically hurt to be referred to in such a loving manner. it wasn´t right. it was so beyond undeserved. so he choked up and hid his face as a single tear escaped his eye.
“don´t. please” he mumbled, begging his brother to stop hurting him with his miraculous ability to feel tenderness for him even while Maekar felt like a despicable monster. what his brother saw in him, he would never know.
“you are, you are beloved by me, brother, I´m afraid you very much are” Baelor told him in a softer tone, refusing Maekar´s wish to be harsher with him, which he would do over and over again.
after a moment of losing his composure, Maekar straightened himself up and took a few measured steps to sit on the empty side of the bed, right next to his big brother. he took a deep breath and met Baelor´s eyes, willing himself to match him in earnestness and bravery.
Baelor reached for his hand and squeezed it encouragingly as if to say “go on, I am listening”, and so he did:
“listen... I will spend the rest of my days devoted to the assurance of your safety. physically, I will protect my children just as much as I will protect you, that I can´t deny, but my soul´s main concern will be you, brother. as much as it should shame me to admit it, my love for you eclipses all other kinds, I know it for certain now after thinking I had lost you. you need to know it Baelor, let me say it all very plainly just this once.”
Baelor watched him with rapt, patient attention and kept holding his hand. he did not interrupt him. he wanted to hear more. so, his wish, just as any other that he might have had, was granted by Maekar.
“when I thought my son was hurt, I was desperate to protect him, to your great detriment. but when I got the news that you were hurt, and then when you were… - ”
he couldn´t bring himself to say it, so he let the brief moment of silence speak for itself.
“- and still now, I always want us to change places, always. I have prayed to wake up in your spot, every single night. it is all so different with you, Baelor. it is so far beyond anything we have language for. I have no right to say this, not after what I have done to you, but I need you to know that I love you so deeply it hurts. I do not know where to put all of my love for you”.
the last sentence was uttered in the shaky tone of someone who was close to tears. it was time for Maekar to accept that he wouldn´t stop randomly bursting into tears around his brother any time soon, so he did and let the tears fall without protest, which thankfully made the crying more graceful and quiet. two twin-streams of hot water spilled down his face, one for the guilt he felt towards his brother, and one for the love.
Baelor seemed to hold his breath as he rubbed his thumb across Maekar´s palm, back and forth, back and forth. he was speechless even though he was usually the one to find the right words for any given moment. but not then. it was time for him to listen and so he did, in deep awe of his brother´s openly displayed softness, his sensitivity, his vulnerability. he was both humbled by it and proud of him.
“you are half of my heart, Baelor. and not a day or night will go by where I won´t be filled by the utmost gratitude for having been granted the miracle of witnessing your survival”.
Maekar was still crying but he spoke with conviction, his voice did not crack or waver, he forced the words to sound as solid as they felt in his heart.
Baelor had never seen him so unabashedly lovesick for him and it shook him. it was the confession of a lover, that´s what it was, after so many years of feeling the truth without ever demanding to hear it out loud. it was obvious that Maekar had abandoned caution after fearing Baelor´s loss, that he would never let the important things go unsaid again, lest he lose him before telling him just how much he adored him.
“gods. come here, come to me, please” Baelor urged him and took Maekar´s face into both his hands the second he was close enough to do it, like a father, a lover, and priest absolving a sinner, all at once.
he kissed Maekar´s tears away with determined presses of his lips and then kissed him all over every inch of his scarred face while whispering “I love you just the same, you know I do, which is why I would kindly ask the gods to refrain from switching our places if I am ever hurt again”. he was eager and strong despite his lingering pain, refusing to let go of Maekar who was surrendered to his brother´s loving touch, forgiven when he did not want to be, loved when he had no idea how it was still possible, wrecked by the sweet torture of it.
his brother, his god, his entire world, kissing his swollen eyelids til the tears stopped.
“then they will have to choose between your wishes and mine” he uttered once he could speak again, right against Baelor´s lips, their breaths mingling softly.
“indeed they will” Baelor affirmed with a faint smile and pulled Maekar in for a kiss, and then another, and another one, until they were both flushed and lulled into the familiar calm heat of being one. they fell asleep entwined and Maekar only left to return to his own chambers when he woke an hour before the sun rose, unwilling to make Baelor suffer from any kind of nasty gossip because someone found them like that in the morning.
“come here”. the words lingered in Maekar´s mind many hours after Baelor had said them, they were without a single doubt Maekar´s favorite two words ever, nothing, not even hearing “I love you” compared to the joy of hearing his brother´s simple yet decisive “come here”.
all his life he had waited again and again to hear them.
where Baelor went, Maekar followed, that was the rule he wished to follow forever and then some.
Maekar was too focused on Baelor to notice that his body language had morphed into something quite pitiful during the days of waiting for Baelor to get better and it troubled his brother and it tugged on his heartstrings to see it: Maekar, who had a habit of lounging around relaxed and loose-limbed in every chair he occupied, often inappropriately so, suddenly sitting all proper, hands folded neatly in his lap, seemingly trying to make himself as small as possible. he reminded Baelor of a dog who felt guilty and was thus cowering in a corner, whimpering, bracing himself for his owner´s wrath.
it displeased Baelor, to say the least, so, on the sixth night of his recovery, when they were sitting side by side on his bed as the fireplace crackled, he turned to Maekar and found the courage to breach the subject.
“brother. I am worried for you. I have always been troubled by your notion of being a leech of some sort to me. that´s what you keep telling yourself you are, isn´t it? you think I tolerate your proximity?”.
it tugged on Maekar´s heartstrings to hear his worst fear spoken aloud like that but he couldn´t deny it, so he nodded, wordless, solemn.
“well. then you´re going to listen to me very carefully now” Baelor commanded while searching for his brother´s gaze from beneath his eyelashes, head tilted downward the way he always did when he was being authoritative, so Maekar yielded and turned his head to meet those mismatched eyes that could see right through him.
Baelor took a deep breath and gripped his brother´s knee through the fabric of his pants for emphasis, reminiscent of a cat biting into its fluffy offspring's neck to keep them slack, incapable of escape. it sent a thrill through Maekar´s body, head to toe, as he obeyed and paid close attention.
“it has always been a give and take between us, even when you couldn´t see it. you are the very reason that I get to be patient and well-mannered; it comes so easily to me because you voice the thoughts that I refuse to, you reprimand people harshly when I need to remain composed, you scare them off when they get too comfortable around me and I cannot allow myself the same scathing tone. you make me laugh. you brighten up even the darkest days, and you're the only who makes me loosen up when I am too hell-bent on drowning myself in duties day and night. a lesser man would´ve abandoned me by now but you never did and I don´t even think you are aware of it. even when people disregard you in favor of me, you never hold it against me, which is something I do not take for granted. the crown already weighs heavily on me now but you have always been there to make it easier for me to carry it, without you I would've already shown some pretty unbecoming behavior by now, especially after I lost Jena. I wouldn't want anyone else by my side for all of it except you.”
Baelor seemed to have said everything that he mean to but then he added one last word for emphasis “ever”.
Maekar placed his big hand right across his brother´s where it was still on his leg to pry it off and intertwine their fingers, to which Baelor responded with a fond smile and a raising of his eyebrows that asked “you understand? or do I need to make myself even clearer?”.
how he loved that version of his big brother: cocky, well-spoken, and ever-so handsome.
“that is exactly what I aim for, always, and I do feel cherished by you, to make that clear, I only think less of myself when I wonder how a man like you could be so gracious with one like me. you never made me feel less-than, only my own foolish actions did. and I wouldn´t want anyone else by my side either. that goes without saying though. that much I know about my lack of subtlety by now.”
both of them felt the urge to bridge the physical distance to match their overwhelming emotional closeness, so Maekar slowly guided Baelor to rest on his chest and cautiously nuzzled his nose into the top of his head while making sure that his bandage was undisturbed.
they laid like that in peaceful silence for a bit, Maekar´s free hand rubbing up and down Baelor´s back as he heard him say “you know, whenever people pester me about a second marriage I have to bite my tongue and keep myself from disclosing just how close we are, that I am not without a companion at all, and do not require a queen consort”.
it wasn´t cheap consolation or honey to lure Maekar into a trap of thinking he was more important to him than he actually was, it was the truth, they both knew it, and it did please Maekar to have it spelled out with such clarity, he was not above a certain possessiveness, never had been, never would be.
their unspoken arrangement made room for either of them to take other lovers if they so wished, so it was rather obvious to both of them that Baelor might enjoy the company of a lovely woman here and there, but he would never marry again, he had done it once and wished to grieve his only wife while savoring to the comfort of being so close with his brother. his heart was famously big, so it was no surprise that more than one great love had found its home in it.
“I always did think I was better suited for the role of a wife than a husband” Maekar murmured against Baelor´s hair and heard the smile in his voice when answered “hm, I think you´re well-suited for both, but I admit I am glad that for now you are all mine, the way a wife would be”.
“not just for now..” Maekar vowed quietly and felt Baelor nod in approval, still very comfortable on his chest, enjoying the first evening where his head did not ache that much anymore, perhaps partially due to the resolved tension between him and his baby brother who had spent the better part of the week lost in a dark fog of shame.
they were finally with each other again, fully, no more veils, no more fear or awkwardness in the way. if only Maekar could´ve sent that very image of them on the bed to his self from a week earlier who had been sick to near-psychosis with the prospect of never feeling Baelor´s comforting weight on him again.
he loved Baelor´s disposition most when it leaned towards one of the two extremes, either the way he was right then: soft, half-asleep, his eyelashes fluttering, when he was floating on his back on a rivertop, carrying a sleeping child while trying not to wake them, quietly enjoying a book, relaxing in a lush field, or: mid-battle, mid-fuck, completely undone and aggressive. Maekar loved remembering him during those early days of fighting for their family´s honor, Baelor all bloody and sweaty and panting, on top of his horse, straining every last muscle, undressing at night, so eager to blow off steam in their tent that his skin seemed to vibrate with it. he wanted nothing more than to have Baelor back at full health and to add more fond memories to the countless ones he already had with him, he was greedy, always greedy when it came to the time he got to spend with his older brother, there was no denying it.
he would be whatever Baelor wanted and needed him to be, his friend, his lover, his brother, his wife, his confidant, his maid, his nurse, his dog, his dragon, anything at all, all at once if Baelor so pleased.
once nightfall set in, Maekar broke the silence when Baelor slowly peeled himself off his chest to go lay down in his pillows again, to try and sleep for good. “do you need another blanket? is it too cold?”. the concern was genuine, he was already halfway across the room to fetch one when Baelor waved it off and said “no need, thank you. I run hot.” he said the last part with an audible grin, it was his signature way of teasing, subtle but audacious. he might as well have told an old baker that his ovens were hot or a butcher that his blades were sharp, so Maekar gave a dry, overly unsurprised reply “oh, you don´t say?”, suddenly transported back to all the nights when he had woken up tangled in soaked sheets that his brother had sweat through. he would´ve complained about it more if he didn´t love the scent of him.
the next morning, when Baelor´s bandages were once again being redressed, it was declared that he would be safe to take on the journey back home within the next two days, if none of his symptoms suddenly worsened, so they planned to spend two more nights at Ashford before finally leaving it all behind.
in anticipation of their return to their own familiar lodgings, Maekar spent the majority of the day tidying up Baelor´s quarters and gathering up all the belongings that his brother would miss sorely if they left them behind in a haste, carefully folding his clean clothes into one pile and preparing others to be washed by the maids, airing out the room while Baelor ate the lamb stew that had been prepared for him. he noticed the abundance of ripe plums in it with a smile, certain that his brother had ordered them to be shipped to their guests kitchen´s for his sake.
“you know, this side of you reminds me of when you were a little boy and saved that kitten that was abandoned by her mother” Baleor mused between spoonfuls of the stew and gave his brother a fond smile across the room. Maekar turned around to face him and paused his housework to sit down on the armchair by the hearth, a little unsure if he should be offended or charmed or both, so Baelor laughed to himself, quietly, and went on to make it clear that he was not just trying to get a rise out of him, that it was a genuinely sweet childhood memory he had of his little brother.
“do you remember? you stayed up all night feeding her little spoonfuls of milk, watching over her, petting her. mother gave up on trying to get you to sleep and told me to go and take turns with you every few hours, so you wouldn´t fall asleep at the breakfast table in the morning”.
Maekar nodded and did remember how much it had meant to him that Baelor indulged him and fathered the abandoned kitten together with him until she was strong enough to go out and roam the world all by herself.
“early sign that you´d be a loving father” Baelor thought out loud as he put the empty bowl aside and watched Maekar flinch from those words.
“well. love is not enough, brother. I failed. I love many but seem to do them all harm anyway. the love for my idiotic son blinded me in that gods-forsaken battle that he was the cause of in the first place. here you are, with worse injures than him, that´s what my love does to people.” Maekar did not sound choked up or sad, he only sounded resigned.
Baelor was not the type to offer dramatic responses to such sentiments along the lines of “no! please don´t say that about yourself!”, he knew it would do nothing to help, so instead, he remained calm and warm in his expression as he offered a different kind of response:
“you see, when the love is mutual, harm that was not intended can be easily forgiven”.
Maekar understood the truth of those words, he did, but he refused to let himself feel them, since he did not deserve such benevolent comfort.
“you should not forgive me, brother. ever.” he argued and stood up to come closer to Baelor for emphasis, stopping at the foot of his bed to look at him directly.
Baelor lowered his head to look up the way a predator out in the wild would and seemed to consider his next words very carefully. he eyed his brother up and down with a gaze that was intense and fiery.
“you are in no place to make demands of me, Maekar. you are talking to your future king, remember?”. damn him for being such a word-smith, for being such a good fighter not just during battle but during conversations, yielding sentences like a shield, always deflecting the move that would render him rhetorically defeated. Maekar wished Baelor would just agree already and tell him that he was right to hate himself, but then again, he would´ve had to be another man entirely to do such things, so in truth, he wanted exactly what was transpiring: to be disarmed entirely within seconds.
“well… if the king orders it” he jested in that almost juvenile, defiant way of his that Baelor was still tickled by many decades after he´d first heard it. Maekar found his place next to him again and sat down on the bed with an exaggerated sigh to amuse his brother further.
as predicted, they were on the road back home two nights later and endured another few nights in beds that weren´t theirs before they finally entered their own chambers again for the first time in over two weeks, which seemed to them more like a hundred considering everything that had transpired.
they came home battered and bruised, Maekar in his heart and his brother more in his flesh, but somehow also subdued and eager to settle back into their daily rhythm, even closer as brothers than they´d ever been before.
while Baelor tried to slowly return to his duties and catch up on any letters of great urgency, Maekar was unable to do much more than sleep, eat, and bathe for about a week after their first night back home. it seemed like all the terror and pain that he had been made to bear were trying to leave his system all at once after he had exhausted himself trying to hold it all in, putting on a semi-brave face for Baelor´s sake.
he checked in on Baelor at least three times a day but other than that he wished to be left to his own devices for the time being. then, on their seventh day back in their familiar surroundings, Maekar was stopped in the hall right after he had taken his dinner, by a maid who told him that the lord Hand wished to see him in his chambers.
obedient as he was to his brother, Maekar hurried to find him, already making up worst-case scenarios about a dizzy spell or a headache that his brother would require help with. but no. he should´ve known better.
once he entered Baelor´s chamber, he found him standing by the window, gazing out and looking all kinds of handsome doing so. it was a miracle to Maekar that his brother seemed as vital as he did, but who if not him would shake off a life-threatening head-injury like it was just a bad cold? it pleased him to see his brother in the usual attire again, all black, leather, adorned with the usual silver details and and those rings of his that he was predictably playing with.
“brother, what is it? are you alright?” Maekar asked and took a few steps towards him, admiring him rather shamelessly when he turned around and stood there in his full glory, as if nothing had ever happened to him. gods he was a sight to behold.
“you have been avoiding me, have you not?” Baelor asked, not accusatory but curious.
he was right. Maekar had in fact been keeping their time together rather brief, unlike the long days they spent attached to each other´s hip during the recovery in a stranger´s home. it pained him to stay away for most of his days but it drove him mad with guilt that Baelor had not lashed out at him, not once, that he hadn´t even made an off-handed little quip about Maekar´s crime against him, it made him sick with anxiety because he was sure that one day the reality of it all would come crashing down over Baelor and make him regret the endless generosity and grace, the utter lack of rage directed at his almost-killer.
Maekar craved punishment. he craved the pain of righteous vengeance. he craved a thorough beating from Baelor or at least a smack to the head, some kind of pay-back, a cleansing sort of ache. anything. but it never came.
Baelor was less concerned with matters of blame and more concerned with matters of passion, the carnal, earth-shattering kind.
the most unexpected thing that he learned from his return to the living, after having nearly passed over to another realm, was that it did not kill his hunger for sex but intensified it, immensely. he was well-read, so he was familiar with the idea that close brushes with death often drove people to frantically sire another child, or multiple, but as a man who had no desire to reproduce anymore, his experience was different. he did not want another heir, no, he wanted to prove to himself and someone else just how virile he still was, how brimming with the hottest life-blood, dragon-blood, and how capable as a lover.
Maekar did not feel the familiar charge in the air at first but it started to dawn on him when Baelor gave him a stare that made heat pool in his gut, his groin, and frankly all over his pale body in visible red splotches. “good”, Baelor thought, “he is still so easy for me, no grand scheme of persuasion required”.
“I have, yes. I was under the impression that my help was not needed anymore.” Maekar offered, as a half-hearted excuse for his reluctance to come to Baelor´s chambers and his brother couldn´t even get irritated because he saw just how dizzied by his unflinching attention he already was. the rush of it would never get old.
“you are right in the sense that I do not require you to act like my nurse-maid or a servant anymore, that I do not. but I need a different kind of help from you tonight. I do not wish to feel distance between us and I want your services, not just as my brother, but as a man. it has been entirely too long.”
Maekar´s cheeks flushed and he nearly choked on his spit as he stammered “brother, you should… you should find someone to service you who has not hurt you, a sweet lady, or a good man, but me, I-”
Baelor shushed him with a firm press of his fingers against Maekar´s lips. cruel man. he knew how helpless Maekar was against the feel of his ring pressed to his lips.
“are you telling me to go find someone who does not know my body at all, who would have to learn the ways of pleasuring me bit by bit? no. not a chance. life is much too short, as I have been thorughly reminded, so, I need you, only you. I have taught you well, have I not, brother? you know how to make me feel very good, don´t you?”
Maekar nodded, deeply aroused by the word “taught”, shivering from the implication that Baelor had molded him into his perfect lover over the years. he was putty in his hands. it was hopeless. he would do whatever Baelor wanted him to even when he felt like he should be exiled for receiving such pleasure at his hands.
“yes…that´s right. I do.” he agreed eagerly and felt Baelor caress his face while staring him down like he was about to devour him.
“you´re a strong man but lately you have turned meek. no more. I wish to see you surrender and take what I give you, without flinching, without apology or shame.” he told him and backed away, against the wall, while never breaking eye-contact.
“come here and get on your knees. now.” he commanded Maekar who obeyed so fast that he nearly hurt himself with the graceless drop to the floor right in front of his brother´s legs. kneeling for him, that was one thing he would never say no to, Baelor was clever to start it that way.
Maekar dared to make a demand of his own as he watched his brother strip down to his breeches with rough impatience: he whispered up at him “make it hurt. please. don´t let up, no matter how pained I sound.”
“I´ll see what I can do” he taunted him and freed his already leaking, rock-hard cock with a swift tug. how Maekar had missed that sight, his brother´s perfect, thick length, straining with lust, just for him, the vein at the side bulging and the head slick with pre-cum. his mouth watered as he grabbed Baelor in his palm and felt a violent shudder of relief go throughout his entire body. after so many years of being together, Maekar knew exactly how his brother liked to be stroked, he knew the kind of rhythm and firmness that would make his eyes roll back and his mouth hang open obscenely in pleasure, so he did just that, scooting closer to him on the floor until he was at eye-level with his cock. his eyes flicker up and he watched Baelor with unbearable desire, already ruined by how fucking hot he looked like that.
“go on, suck me, all of me.. every inch” Baelor ordered, his voice already straining a mere minute into it, so Maekar replaced his hand with his mouth and started worshipping that beautiful cock, kissing and licking it all over, up and down the sensitive sides, the tip, drooling to make it filthy the way he knew Baelor loved, the sloppier the blow-job the better. Baelor´s breath came out in huffs as his abs strained and his hands rushed to Maekar´s head, fingers threading through the icy hair, looking down at him through half-lidded eyes, muttering “yeah.. that´s it… good man, such a good little brother, aren´t you? isn´t that right?”. the words were followed by a guttural moan as Maekar swirled his tongue over the sensitive head and squeezed Baelor´s sack, massaging it eagerly, letting no part of Baelor´s groin feel neglected.
he mumbled between filthy licks “yes.. only for you.. only ever for you, brother” before he abandoned all restraint, relaxed his jaw as much as he possibly could, and took Baelor into his mouth until his nose hit the soft dark hair above the shaft, that perfect spot of utter manliness, the scent so fucking addictive to him that he felt his own cock leaking in his breeches.
he refused to go easy, to let himself adjust to Baelor´s girth, and instead deep-throated him without preparation. it made Baelor grip the back of his head for dear life and groan so intensely that anyone down the hall would´ve heard it, it simply felt too good, Maekar´s hot, eager mouth wrapped around him so expertly, enveloping his aching sex in that perfect velvety wetness. the way Maekar sucked him off was all instinct, no thought whatsoever left in his head as he greedily bobbed up and down Baelor´s cock and struggled to breathe while he felt his brother´s hips thrusting up into his throat in desperate intervals, he choked on him, gagged on him, moaned on him like an untouched maiden, and felt no shame for any of it, he was debauching himself for his brother and it was an honor, the snot and tears and spit and pre-cum all cleansing his sinner´s body, every moan from Baelor, every eager “yes, fuck, like that, don´t you dare stop” turning him more feral with the goal of leaving his brother hig on ecstatic pleasure once they were done.
Baelor was not usually a very rough lover, but he knew Maekar craved his force more than he ever had, so he gave into his impulse to face-fuck him without any of his usual, gentle way of dominating him, he didn´t ask if it was okay and he didn´t wait for him to brace himself either, he merely gripped his brother´s head, hard, tugged on his hair, and pushed him all the way down onto his cock over and over and over until he saw stars and felt that his cock was fully drenched in Maekar´s spit.
both of them were shaking and moaning and grasping at each other like they had not made love in many years as Maekar´s lips were crimson and swollen, his eyes stinging with tears, his nails digging into Baelor´s legs, and his soul singing with joy as his big brother fucked up into his throat with deliciously merciless thrusts, mumbling down at Maekar “you take it so well, you were made for me, made for my cock, nghh, fuck”, staking his claim and causing a shuddering orgasm on Maekar´s part, the man on his knees leaking in his pants from the sheer thrill of it all, using one hand to rub himself through the fabric while still holding onto Baelor´s hip with the other, wishing he would never stop.
“yes…yes… you love it, don´t you? love being stuffed by me?” Baelor grunted and slowed his fucking a bit to let Maekar take over again and give him the final push he needed, so he gripped his cock and stroked him good at the base while he kept his mouth firmly attached to him, sucking and licking and worshipping.
when Baelor was wrecked by his own climax and his hot seed leaked down his brother´s throat in thick, intense bursts, Maekar thought that he would gladly die like that: suffocated by Baelor´s pleasure, drowning in his liquids, blindly gulping it all up to a point of danger; he wouldn´t even try to stop him, he would surrender to the sweet death of it without protest.
instead, he swallowed his brother´s release with the ease of a seasoned lover and enjoyed the sensation of being covered in his own spit and tears, gasping for air once Baelor withdrew from his mouth and patted his head in a gesture that said “good boy. you did so good”. he could never be truly cruel, no matter how much Maekar thought he deserved it, especially not when he made him feel so beautiful, so desirable, so damn alive, after spending so many days in a state of half-lucidity. still, he´d given him enough force to hold him over for the time being, that much was clear.
Maekar sounded all kinds of ruined as he rested his damp forehead against the muscle of Baelor´s exposed thigh and tried his best to take deep breaths, close to purring with delight when he felt his brother´s fingertips running through his messed-up hair. once the fog of lust lifted and he could begin to think more clearly again, it hit Maekar right where his heart was still rather bruised: Baelor was back. he was back to full capacity, back to a level of strength and health that allowed him to fuck with such vigor without collapsing afterwards, still standing upright despite the intense release of tension, despite it all.
he had not hurt his brother beyond repair, he had not battered him into a different shape, he had not lost the man he loved to a weaker version, in fact, it almost felt like Baelor had come out of his period of recovery with something to prove, and how well he did it, how beautifully as well. Maekar was overcome with so many feelings at once, his blind devotion for Baelor, the high of his release, the joy of being taken like a whore and yet feeling so loved in the act, and most of all: the relief of knowing he would not have to be the stronger one out of the two of them any time soon, thank the gods. he was the weaker link again, finally.
it didn´t even register to his body that he was crying yet again because his face was still wet with the tears of their fucking, but Baelor noticed and pulled him up his shoulders to meet his little brother in the deepest kiss either of them were capable of giving each other.
they clawed at each other and kissed between breathless gasps until they hid their faces in each other´s necks and stayed entwined like that for a lingering moment, Baelor still exposed from his waist down, Maekar still sniffling, both of them giving each other lazy, soft kisses right where their pulses were pumping the same blood in perfect unison.
eventually, Baelor helped his brother undress and did the same, both of them giving each other a loving once-over before they went to lay down and snuggle up under Baelor´s covers, entirely exposed, both physically and emotionally, and very glad to be so, unwilling to clean up the proof of their passion.
a pleasurable exhaustion soon pulled them into a shared sleep, Maekar´s head resting on Baelor´s chest, a contrast to how they slept during Baelor´s days of pain.
the big brother held his little brother with nothing short of adoration as they enjoyed the sensation of spending the night together the way they always did when the weight of the world, of their hearts, of everything, became a little to heavy to carry on their own. they slept like two aging dragons, snoring, warm, and achingly endearing despite the combined size of the two of them.
Maekar woke up at dawn, right as the first rays of light spilled through the curtains. he had moved away from Baelor in his sleep, so he turned around to face him and smiled when he saw that his brother was blinking at him sleepily. the blanket had somehow gotten pulled down to the spot right above Baelor´s waist, which left his torso and the shape of his side entirely visible. instead of worrying about him catching a chill, Maekar reached out and traced a reverent finger alongside Baelor´s neck, his shoulder, his waist, his hip, under the blanket to rest on his thigh, and whispered in awe “you are… the most beautiful man the realm has ever seen. and will ever see.” Baelor gave him a soft kiss to the forehead in response and let out a pleased, sleepy grunt, clearly unable to find anything to say in response to such earnest sweetness.
after a beat of silence, he pulled Maekar close and wrapped his right arm around him to coax him into a comfortable embrace, his beard tickling Maekar´s face as he pressed his own against it and sighed “my brother. you´ll always be my darling boy. even as an old, gray man. always my boy.”
Maekar held onto Baelor as tight as he could and nodded “yes… all yours, lēkia”. he swore he could feel Baelor soften under his touch as he heard the endearment, “older brother”, in the ancient tongue, since it wasn´t very often that they spoke it with each other, it was reserved for special moments, mostly intimate ones, and Baelor couldn´t have wished for a better moment to hear it again.
“hāedar”, “little brother”, he whispered in response and refused to let even one inch of space between the two of them, to which Maekar gladly surrendered.
when they kissed again it was the way they had kissed as boys, needy, clumsy from too much feeling at once, and sweet as honey, innocent almost. Maekar cradled Baelor´s head, right above the carefully stitched scar, and savored his favorite physical sensation of all time: his own beard brushing over his brother´s while their lips met, again and again, the rough tenderness of it.
“my Baelor…” he sighed when he draped himself over his lap and shut his eyes for another hour of sleep, which made his brother hum in approval and rub over his back possessively to tell him wordlessly “yes, I am yours like you are mine, and don´t forget it”.
as the golden morning glow became more intense and Maekar fell back asleep, it occurred to him that he was finally spoiled by the presence of both of his suns again, one warming the left side of his face with light, and the other one warming the right with the flesh of an upper thigh.
if he could utter one last wish in front of the gods, it would be to take him before Baelor once the time came. Baelor had been waiting in the world to receive him back when Maekar was born, so he would plead:
“let it be my turn in the afterlife. let me be the one waiting for him this time, or give me eternal darkness, either one, but never let me live a single day without him. please, don´t ever take him where I can´t follow”