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Maekar is talking to Aegon, setting the limits he cannot exceed during their visit to Ashford Meadow for the tournament celebrating Gwin Ashford's name day, knowing full well his youngest son's sharp wit and thirst for adventure, when the servants arrive with a fresh batch of warm bread.
"Do you promise, Aegon? I don't want any more headaches on this trip, your brothers are enough," Maekar sighs. Aerion did not come down for breakfast before they left, and Daeron disappeared—as usual.
"It's not fair that I have to stay in the castle. Can't I see the city?"
"It's too dangerous."
"Ser Duncan can go with me," Aegon argues. He and Dunk are close, Maekar knows that. He even showed some concern at first about their closeness, but Baelor assured him that it was good for Aegon to build character, as the knight of the Kingsguard was a man of great integrity.
"Ser Duncan is already on a mission."
"What? Protecting Aerion's ass?" Aegon snorts.
"Don't talk like that about your brother."
"Incidentally, where might my cousin be?" Valarr asks, staring curiously at Aerion's empty place at the table.
Maekar sighed. "Up to something, no doubt."
The sound of the door opening catches everyone's attention.
"He manifests at the mere mention of his name..." Aegon murmurs.
Aerion approaches with a hint of amusement in the air. "My lords..." He sits down, staring at his younger brother across the table. "And whelp..."
"What have you done to your hair?" Maekar asks through clenched teeth, disbelieving.
"This? Nothing much, just a change," Aerion scratches the back of his neck, showing off his short hair. Baelor sighs, scratching his beard. Aerion is utterly incorrigible.
Valarr blinks in horror. "Why did you do that, cousin?"
"I don't think I owe you any trifling explanations," Aerion grumbles, rudely biting into a piece of bread.
"Aerion, you know this is disrespectful," Maekar begins, having lost count of how many times he has said the same thing to his son. "Omegas can't cut their hair like that."
"Because of a trifling custom? Who cares? It was getting in my way, and I wanted to cut it."
"It's not a trifling custom. You must follow traditions," Maekar insists.
"A trifling tradition," Aerion retorts.
Baelor clicks his tongue. "Leave him alone, Maekar. The hair will grow back."
"And I'll cut it again," Aerion taunts.
Maekar sighs. His son is stubborn as a mule. Aerion never liked being an omega, really. His presentation was a bucket of cold water for a thirteen-year-old boy who thought he would be an alpha and had to settle for a burning heat in his belly and furrows running down his thighs. Since then, Aerion has become more skittish than usual, refusing to follow omegan traditions, disdaining customs, snubbing the noble alphas Maekar suggested as possible husbands.
I will never marry, he said. Or will my own father force me to serve as a breeding mare against my will?
Maekar knows it is only a matter of time before Aerion finds an alpha who satisfies him and tames him. Omegas are guided by their instincts, after all, and no matter how much Aerion stamps his feet and throws tantrums, he will surrender to his body's need to start a family and have his gland claimed by some alpha.
"People will talk about such an affront," Valarr comments, biting into his fruit.
"Then I'll rip their tongues out myself," Aerion smiles.
"Enough. Try to behave yourself in Ashford, Aerion. Ser Duncan will be with you, accompanying you."
"I don't need that golem following me. I can take care of myself."
"There is no discussion," Maekar brandishes.
Aerion snorts, crossing his arms. Aegon laughs, sticking his tongue out at his brother across the table.
"We'll leave in an hour," Baelor finally says.
#
Dunk is finishing checking that everything is ready for the departure to Ashford when he hears footsteps approaching and that unmistakable voice.
"Golem!"
The alpha is almost inclined to ignore him, but Aerion would make a scene and threaten to rip his balls off for it.
"My prince." Dunk turns to greet him, but freezes, staring at the omega. "Y-your... Your hair!"
Aerion rolls his eyes, approaching. "You too? What drama, it's just hair."
Dunk's blue eyes wander from Aerion's short hair to his face, as if he were seeing someone else in front of him. "Why did you do that, my prince?" Dunk clears his throat, ignoring the tightness in his chest. Seven, it's almost unfair how handsome Aerion is anyway. Whether his hair is short or long, the Gods have truly blessed him with a beauty worthy of a prince.
"It doesn't concern you, brute," Aerion spits, his words as sharp as a spear. The prince kicks a stray stone, averting his gaze for a fleeting moment before fixing Dunk with a menacing, violet-eyed stare. "Do you approve, Ser?"
Dunk chokes, surprised by the question. His ears burn and he clears his throat, nodding.
"O-of course, I mean, yes, yes, my prince."
"Speak the truth, or I shall wring it from thy throat," Aerion growls, advancing two paces. Dunk can scent him—menacing, inquisitive, yearning. Seven, he is as sweet as succulent, ripened fruit.
"It's the truth, my prince. I swear by the Seven." Dunk stammers, kneeling at Aerion's feet. The prince's pink lips tremble in a satisfied smile as he watches the alpha's seven-foot frame at his feet.
"Really? Did you like it, Ser Dunk?" Aerion clicks his tongue, mocking Dunk's name. "Am I still a handsome omega to you?" The omega's slender, graceful fingers brush the top of Dunk's head, twining around his brown hair and pulling his head back so he can look deep into the knight's blue eyes. "Answer me!"
Aerion's scent throws Dunk off balance a little. "The most beautiful omega I've ever laid eyes on," Dunk confesses, feeling his throat go dry and his face burn with embarrassment. But the answer seems to please Aerion.
"Prove it," Aerion murmurs, tightening his grip on Dunk's hair.
"What?"
"Prove that I am the most beautiful omega you have ever seen, Ser." There is an omegan melody in Aerion's voice that hypnotizes Dunk like a siren's song. He wants to grab Aerion, turn him around, bend him in half, prove that yes, he is the most beautiful, indecent, and improper omega Dunk has ever seen. But they are in public, and Dunk would have his hands cut off if anyone saw him grabbing the prince.
"My prince, someone might come and see us in this situation—"
"Then take me somewhere and claim what is yours."
Dunk's heart skips a beat. Seven, Aerion will surely be his undoing.
Dunk stands up and grabs Aerion by the wrist, leading him to the nearest stable.
The first time he shared a bed with Prince Targaryen, Dunk was as drunk as he was. Aerion was celebrating his name day with drinks, lots of food, and prostitutes. The prince's tolerance for alcohol was never great, and Dunk shouldn't even have been drinking while on duty, but Aerion insisted or he would have torn Dunk's head off for disobeying him. So Dunk found himself forced to have a few drinks, watching from afar as Aerion seemed almost lighthearted, without his mask of arrogance and malice, clapping his hands to the rhythm of the music and toasting another year of life.
And then came the alpha. An older man, Dunk didn't know him, but he seemed close to the prince, chatting and deliberately touching him. Dunk squeezed the fragile glass in his hand so hard that he dented the rim a little, annoyed at how the unknown alpha took the liberty of caressing Aerion's knee, his wrist, his thigh. Dunk was about to get up and pull that disgusting man off the omega when he felt small hands on his shoulders and two prostitutes sat on his lap, trying to seduce him. They smelled good, had long hair, beautiful breasts, soft mouths, and rosy cheeks, and Dunk ended up losing focus for a moment, trying to get rid of them. Actually, he had more urgent matters than getting his dick wet, and as soon as he was free of the two, his eyes turned to the empty spot once occupied by Aerion.
Dunk jumped up and left the tent, looking for long hair and violet eyes everywhere, until he smelled alpha excitement and ran in that direction, finding the unknown alpha cornering Aerion against a wall not far away. Dunk kicked him away and threatened him never to approach the prince again, who stared at him with dilated pupils, his scent not so subtle in the night air.
"Are you feeling well, my prince?" Dunk approached cautiously, assessing the omega from head to toe. Nothing seemed wrong with him.
"You fucked up my night."
"What?!"
"You brainless giant! Did I look like I needed help?" Aerion growled.
"B-but... But, my prince, that man seemed to be taking advantage of your condition to—"
"Enough. Is that what you wanted? To play the hero?" Aerion pushed Dunk's chest, confronting him. "I told my father I didn't need your escort. And now? You ruin my night, how wonderful."
"I thought..."
"You don't need to think anything, golem. Now, I need to find another available alpha," Aerion muttered, silencing Dunk's excuses. The alpha's face flushes and he looks away, hearing Aerion's barely contained laughter. "What? Are you embarrassed, brute? Does the word sex scare you? I bet it does, you've probably never felt the heat of an omega." Aerion teases, licking his lips.
Dunk clenches his jaw. "I didn't mean to offend you, my prince."
"But I meant to offend you." Aerion clicks his tongue, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me, you foolish giant, have you ever lain in an omega's bed?"
"My prince, I believe this is not an appropriate conversation for..."
"Answer the question. Actually, let me guess... I bet you haven't. Who would have the courage to lie with you? A brutish, unintelligent alpha with your bulging eyes and stupidly large mouth." Aerion moves closer, assessing Dunk closely. "Your rough, calloused, damnably large and stupid hands." The difference in their heights is comically large, but Aerion doesn't seem intimidated, staring at Dunk almost without blinking and sliding his hands against his arms. "You stupid oaf, brainless alpha..."
Dunk barely has time to react when soft, beer-flavored lips collide with his, kissing him. Aerion stands on tiptoe and roughly grabs Dunk's shoulders, bending him to his will and sticking his tongue into the alpha's mouth. Dunk grumbles, grabbing Aerion's waist to push him away, because the prince must be drunk to kiss him like that, but the omega won't let him, sticking to Dunk like a tick.
Aerion is small. Small and soft, like an oatmeal cookie. His scent bewitches Dunk, stirs the blood in his veins, clouds his senses, and leaves him dizzy as Aerion devours his mouth. He is relentless, wanting more, more, and more.
"My prince!" Dunk pushes Aerion away, staring at him with wide eyes. He looks like a mess, his mouth wet and red, his face flushed, his chest heaving, his eyes clouded with desire. And, Gods, Dunk can feel his excitement. His scent.
"Be silent, you oaf. You have not my permission to stop."
"We can't, my prince. It's unacceptable, I can't just—"
"You ruined my night, it's only fair you make it up to me." Aerion licks his lips and the scene is mesmerizing. Dunk feels his cock twitch.
"But we can't..." He murmurs, trying to cling to the last sparks of sanity he has left.
Aerion grabs the front of the knight's clothes, forcing him to bend down until his pink lips are against his ear.
"I won't tell if you don't."
Fuck. Dunk was lost.
Since then, he and Aerion have had this thing. He doesn't quite know what to call it. But Dunk, brainless alpha that he is, gives in every time Aerion seeks him out. They've fucked more times than Dunk can count on his fingers, on a thousand different surfaces, and they never tire of each other. Aerion is like an addiction, and he seems determined to drive Dunk mad.
When he's not being a miserable bully, Aerion is malleable as clay. He allows Dunk to dominate him, claim him, take everything from him. He's sweet when he's seeking orgasm, moaning as loud as a whore when he has three fingers inside him and presenting himself like an omega bride so Dunk can fuck him. He is an omega like no other. Rude, indecent, mean, selfish, sweet, demanding. A box of surprises that Dunk is more than willing to burn himself trying to open.
#
The Targaryen family is welcomed in Ashford with pomp and circumstance. Valarr and Daeron are two of the five champions of Lord Ashford's daughter, Daeron reluctantly, of course, as Maekar practically forced him, and although Aerion asked to participate in his brother's place, omegas were not allowed in these tournaments, which totally displeased the prince.
Dunk is conversing with other knights when a small stone strikes the nape of his neck. He turns on his heels to find Aegon half-hidden in the brush, waving excitedly. The alpha offers a sheepish smile, muttering an excuse as he makes his way toward the young prince.
"What are you doing here? I mean, errr, my prince, what are you doing out here?" He corrects himself, earning a roll of the eyes from Aegon.
"Oh, Dispense with such ceremony. Let us make for the city!" Aegon's eyes shine with enthusiasm.
"What?! No, Egg, no, does prince Maekar know you're gone? I can't take you to town without telling him."
"No one will notice, I asked to be alone in my room. Please, Ser, come on, let's go! I just arrived and I'm already bored in this castle, we won't be long, I promise!"
"Boy..." Dunk smooths a wrinkle on his forehead, sighing. The Targaryen children would be his undoing.
"Don't you want to meet some single girls? My father mentioned that there are many beautiful omegas around here."
"What? No, no, I don't—I don't want any girls, look, okay! All right, we can go quickly, but we'll be back before dinner." Dunk gives in. He's never been very good at denying the boy anything; he has a look that melts Dunk's armor, just like a certain difficult omega.
Egg hugs Dunk's long legs. "Thank you, Ser, thank you!"
They manage to leave without any fuss. Dunk, who has decided to change clothes, is on high alert in Egg's presence, who wears a hood to hide his recognizable silver hair, avoiding drawing undue attention. There are people everywhere, the smell of beer and grilled meat wafting through the air, laughter, applause, music. They are a lively, festive people. Dunk buys honey chicken for Egg and a beer for himself, taking a silver stag out of his pocket. When he turns around, Egg is lost in the throng.
The knight's heart skips a beat. Gods, if he loses sight of that boy, his head will be food for the crows by morning.
Dunk follows the sound of applause and sees Egg squeezed between the crowd, watching a puppet show. The alpha apologizes and pushes his way through the crowd until he reaches the prince, startling him by grabbing him by the arm.
"Do you want me to be food for the crows, boy? Don't disappear like that again."
"Sorry, Ser Duncan, but look! Isn't it beautiful?" Egg is amazed by the show, the story of a knight fighting a dragon. The dragon breathes fire and the knight defends himself with his shield, trying to distract it as best he can to attack.
Suddenly, Dunk remembers Aerion. Aerion and his unbridled passion for dragons. On the rare occasions when the two had a moment to talk after sex, with Aerion still recovering, with semen dripping down his milky thighs, the prince confessed his fascination, telling Dunk stories about dragons before their extinction and how he dreams of bringing them back. His little dragon.
"It's beautiful, Egg."
Finally, the knight defeats the dragon and a shower of applause rains down on the tent. Egg applauds loudly and Dunk joins him, staring at the dragon now lying dead on the ground. A tightness gnaws at his stomach for a moment as he thinks of Aerion, but it passes quickly when Egg grabs his sleeve, exclaiming excitedly that he wants to see something like this again.
Egg insists on congratulating those responsible for the show, so they wait until the tent is almost empty to approach the young woman who is organizing the mummers' gear.
"Excuse me, we want to congratulate you on the show, it was very beautiful." The girl turned to face Egg, then looked away in Dunk's direction. She smiled slightly, surprised by the compliment. From her scent, she was an omega. She stood up, making Dunk's eyes widen when he noticed how tall she was by female standards. Wow. He had never seen an omega as tall as her.
"I'm glad you liked it. Tomorrow we will present the story of Florian, the fool.
"Florian the Fool?"
"Yes, who ends up falling in love with a maiden named Jonquil," Tanselle explains, putting props from the play into an old chest. "If you arrive early, you'll get better seats in the audience."
"Dunk, did you hear that? We can come, can't we?"
"I don't know, kid."
The girl watches them curiously. "Dunk? I've never heard of the name."
The knight scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "It is what they call me."
The girl smiles. "I am called Tanselle"
"It's a pleasure."
"Egg!" Aegon raises his hand, introducing himself. Tanselle raises an eyebrow, curious.
"Is it funny name day?" she asks, and Dunk feels his face flush. She's funny and pretty. And tall. Wow, so tall.
Should he say something? Thank her again? Dunk isn't very good with omegas, except for Aerion. But Aerion is different. Dunk has learned how to deal with him. Tanselle, on the other hand, is...
"Want some help?" he offers suddenly, noticing some boxes nearby.
Tanselle blinks in surprise for a moment and nods, accepting. Dunk helps the girl, and Egg even tries to carry a box, but it's too heavy for his frail body. Dunk and Tanselle laugh at him, and he crosses his arms and sticks his tongue out at them.
"Thank you, Dunk. That was very kind of you," Tanselle finally thanks him, when everything is already organized and few people are passing by.
It was naught, I am glad to be of service. I... Er, I know not, might I buy you a cup of ale?"
Tanselle holds back a smile, shaking her head. "It's late, I really have to go, but thanks for the invitation."
"Of course!" The alpha stumbles, speaking louder than he intended. "Of course, yes, late. It's very late. Well, Egg? We have to—you know, go back."
The girl's hand rests gently on Dunk's shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow," she says, leaving.
The return to the castle is silent, but Dunk can feel Egg's furtive glances in his direction.
"What is it? If you want to say something, just say it."
"You liked her!"
"What?! N-no, of course not."
"You blushed like a virgin omega bride."
"Take that back, kid. You're seeing things."
"Look! You're blushing again." Egg points, laughing loudly. Dunk has to put his huge hand over his mouth to silence him.
"Quiet, kid, do you want to wake up the whole castle? You should be in bed."
Egg bites the knight's hand, wiping his mouth with a grimace. "Shall we come back tomorrow?"
Dunk shrugs. "We'll see."
They manage to enter the castle unseen, despite Dunk's exaggerated width, he goes unnoticed. The knight then forces Egg to return to his quarters and get ready for bed, while he makes his way to his own quarters, tired after a long day. On the way, however, Dunk runs into one of the castle maids, who blushes to the roots of her hair when she sees him.
"Ser Duncan," she says hurriedly, hiding her trembling hands behind her back, "Prince Aerion demands your presence immediately."
The beta runs off before Dunk even has a chance to say anything. He sighs and makes his way to Aerion's chambers, trying to guess what the prince could want with him so late at night. Dunk knocks twice on the door, afraid that if the prince is already asleep, he might wake him. But the alpha hears Aerion's muffled voice from the other side of the door, asking him to come in.
Dunk freezes at the sight that greets him when he opens the door. Aerion is naked, miles of pale, soft, fragrant skin exposed, staring at him with steely eyes, as if he were going to devour him, destroy him.
"Close the door, Ser Duncan," Aerion sneers, sliding his foot against the soft length of his left leg. His scent is so overwhelming that Dunk reacts immediately, feeling his hands sweat and his cock throb in his clothes.
Dunk forces himself to swallow. "Do you require my services, my prince?
"My day has been tedious."
Dunk wets his lips, not knowing what to say. Aerion likes to be heard more than he likes to be answered.
"I spent the live-long day enduring Valarr’s crowing and his pea-sized alpha brain regarding this cursed tourney." Aerion sighs dramatically. "And then my father freaked out again because Daeron disappeared, and, surprise surprise, my little brother wasn't in his room when I checked personally, and neither was the former knight errant he calls his best friend at his post." The omega smiles mischievously, staring at Dunk through his eyelashes. "Tell me, Dunk, should I tell my father that you took my little brother to some mud pit in the stinking streets of Ashford?"
Dunk stammers, shaking his head. "It was not as you say, my prince."
"Oh, so now I'm a liar, is that what you're implying?"
"Egg just wanted to go for a walk, see the market." Dunk takes a step forward, kneeling. "It is my full responsibility, I apologize for this mistake and promise not to make it again." The knight lowers his head, reciting words that rarely escape his lips. Dunk is an honorable knight of the Royal Guard, who has never had to apologize for any irresponsible behavior. Some even called him a saint for putting up with the follies of House Targaryen with such patience.
Aerion smiles almost maliciously. His blood boils with excitement at the sight of the alpha at his feet.
"You are too good for your own good, Ser Duncan." Aerion approaches, combing Dunk's brown hair with his pale fingers. "Look at me." It is an order. Aerion never asks for anything. Dunk forces himself to look up, and the sight of Aerion against the light of the room is almost heavenly, with his short hair, pale face, violet eyes, and naked as he came into the world.
"Get up."
Dunk stands up and barely has time to register anything before a soft body presses against his, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders and a mouth against his ear. Aerion is warm, he smells of a recent bath, his skin still damp and soft. It is almost sacrilegious for Dunk's dirty, rough hands to slide down the prince's back, supporting him.
"Convince me not to turn you in, Dunk. What do you have to bargain with, huh?"
Dunk knows he's in for another one of Aerion's little games. He knows how much it pleases the prince.
"We can—" Aerion stops talking suddenly, his grip on Dunk tightening and his nose sliding almost desperately against his jaw, neck, and shoulder. Dunk feels the prince's body tense against his, his grip almost becoming punitive, before he pulls away and stares at the alpha with his jaw clenched and eyes misty.
"Omega. You smell like an omega," Aerion says.
"Wh-what?"
The prince pulls away, pushing Dunk with a grimace on his face. "You were rolling around in the mud with some omega whore," Aerion accuses, clenching his fists. "You brainless alpha."
"No! Nothing like that happened, I-I... I wasn't with any omega, it was just a... The girl, there was a girl and—"
"Did you sleep with her?" Aerion pushes Dunk again, his nostrils flared with anger. "Did you sleep with her, you brute? Don't lie!"
"No, I didn't sleep with her!"
"You're lying! You smell like an omega, and you have the nerve to show up here, hug me, try to sleep with me."
Dunk despairs. "Nothing like that happened! My prince, I swear, I just helped the girl. Egg is proof."
"As if that little rat wouldn't lie to save your skin." Aerion sneers, turning his back on the knight. Dunk follows him, getting close enough to smell the sour scent of Aerion's betrayal.
Dunk sighs, brushing the omega's waist with his thumb. "Nothing happened, I swear. I would never sleep with another omega I barely know, I... I just helped her, Aerion."
The prince says nothing at first, and Dunk feels like he's about to go mad. Aerion's silence is never a good thing.
"You would never sleep with another omega?" he asks quietly.
"No!" Dunk says exasperatedly. "I mean... No, I wouldn't do that. And besides, she didn't seem interested," he murmurs.
But perhaps that's not the right thing to say.
Aerion kicks him hard in the balls, causing the seven-foot alpha to double over in pain, leaning on the bed.
"You shameless alpha," Aerion says, pulling Dunk's hair hard enough to force him to look at him. "You deserve a lesson. Take off your clothes."
Aerion steps back, climbing onto the bed and leaving Dunk, still dizzy with pain, to turn around and take off his own clothes, getting rid of every piece until he is completely naked. He stares at the prince, waiting for the next order, and this seems to satisfy the omega.
"Come here." Aerion bats his eyelashes, using all his omega charm, and Dunk goes like a trained animal, but has a foot pushed into his face before he can even touch the prince. "No, no, no, Ser Duncan," Aerion mocks, a malicious smile on his beautiful, cold face. "You can't touch me."
"What?"
"If you touch me, I'll have your hands cut off," Aerion threatens.
"B-but..."
Aerion stands up, pushing Dunk against the soft bed. "Lie down."
Dunk obeys, placing himself at the omega's mercy. Aerion climbs onto Dunk's lap, sliding his wet crotch against the alpha's hard cock, teasing him. Dunk has to beg the Seven for sanity not to grab the prince's waist and turn him over on the bed, smash that arrogance in his eyes with his cock, and make him beg Dunk to fuck him.
"Keep your hands to yourself, brute. If you touch me, I'll throw you out of my room and you'll never lay your filthy paws on me again, understand?" Aerion pulls Dunk's hair, using him like a puppet. "This will be your punishment. You'll watch me ride you, satisfying myself on your knot, but you won't be able to touch me." The prince slides his wet pussy against the length of Dunk's cock, sighing with pleasure. He's wet. Gods, so wet. Aerion's scent rises in the air and Dunk has to bite his cheek to curb the urge to grab him.
"Want to know a little secret, golem?" Aerion continues to tease Dunk, grinding his hips in a way that would make any alpha lose his mind. "I touched myself thinking of you in the shower." He confesses, leaning against Dunk's strong chest to slide his glans against the lips of his pussy. "I thought about your dirty hands, your stupid face, Seven, I came so hard." Aerion moans brokenly, swallowing Dunk's entire length.
His pussy is so tight, so hot. Dunk throws his head back, banging it against the headboard, dizzy with the tightness of Aerion's wet hole against his cock.
"But you, you giant idiot, you had to ruin everything," Aerion whines, moving his hips quickly. The prince's pace is fast, he uses Dunk to support himself as he fucks himself against his hard cock, his eyes closed in ecstasy, the slender curve of his neck exposed, lost in his own pleasure.
Dunk lets himself be used. Honestly, he would let Aerion do anything to him, as long as the prince kept swallowing his cock with his tight pussy.
Aerion leans over Dunk, his hot breath brushing the knight's cheek, while the omega continues to bounce on his lap, chasing his own orgasm. The prince's short nails tear at Dunk's chest, a broken moan escaping Aerion's soft lips, his movements becoming erratic, his thighs trembling with the effort, until he reaches orgasm. Aerion cries out, an almost animalistic sound escaping him, falling heavily against Dunk's chest.
His body is hot, trembling against the alpha's. He mumbles something, his brain too fucked up to say anything coherent, and Dunk takes advantage to throw his hips up, fucking him. As ordered, Dunk keeps his hands to himself, using the strength of his powerful thighs to balance himself and thrust his hips upward repeatedly, drawing the most beautiful sounds from Aerion in the Seven Kingdoms.
"Inside. Come inside me, stupid oaf," Aerion murmurs.
And Dunk obeys.
He ejaculates inside the omega, moaning hoarsely as he feels his knot bind them together. Aerion purrs happily, Gods, he's really fucked, snuggling against the alpha's warmth. Dunk rubs his cheek against the top of Aerion's blond head, satisfied.
Some time passes in total silence, only the two of them breathing back to normal, so much so that Dunk even thinks Aerion has fallen asleep. He fidgets, unsure of what to do, knowing that waking a sleepy Aerion is probably not the best option.
"If you move, I'll kill you," Aerion mutters, causing Dunk to freeze.
"I thought you were asleep, my prince”
"Getting there..."
"Do you want me to... Huh, do you want me to leave?" Dunk asks, barely daring to breathe.
Aerion stirs, raising his head to face the knight.
"No, not yet. Put your little brain to work and give me another orgasm." Aerion sits on Dunk's lap, the knot still binding them together, and reaches for his swollen clitoris, gathering his own wetness on his fingers and bringing it to Dunk's mouth, forcing him to lick it.
Dunk's tongue wraps around the omega's slender fingers, gathering their taste.
"Have you learned your lesson, golem?" Aerion asks, grinding his hips against Dunk's. He runs his fingers across Dunk's cheek, forehead, and chin, fixing his scent on the alpha like a possession. "I'm the only omega for you, aren't I?" Aerion is a dragon growling against Dunk's face, his eyes hard and his white teeth bared. "Say it!"
"You're the only omega for me," Dunk moans, intoxicated by Aerion's taste.
The prince smiles. "That's right, learn your place, Dunk."
#
Dunk is positioned behind the Targaryen family seats. Egg at one end, Daeron's seat empty, Maekar and Baelor in the center, next to him, Aerion's seat also empty. Dunk didn't see him in the morning, having been kicked out of the room before sunrise, going to get ready for the day, having to get rid of the prince's scent marked on his skin. Dunk wonders if Aerion is okay, if he regrets the previous night—it's a constant thought in the alpha's mind. Does Prince Targaryen regret it every time he goes to bed with him? Is Dunk nothing more than a pastime for the omega, and how long will their little game last until Aerion is promised to some high-status alpha?
Prince Maekar does not seem happy, either with Daeron's disappearance or Aerion's. Baelor tries to appease the situation, arguing that they will soon turn up—Daeron probably drunk and Aerion angry at being forbidden to participate in the tournament.
On the field, Valarr wins all his duels. He is good, incredibly good. Aerion once confessed that he would do even better than his cousin if he had not been born an omega and forced to stay away from any alpha interest. Deep down, Dunk knows how much Aerion envies Valarr.
Dunk sighs, sweating in his white armor. It is very hot in Ashford.
Then the herald announces a new challenger.
Brightflame.
Whispers begin among the audience.
"Who is that?" Egg asks, looking over Dunk's shoulder, who seems as lost as he is.
The challenger enters the field. Dunk's heart skips a beat when he sees the black armor, with details reminiscent of scales and red reminiscent of fire, his shield was a blank expanse of black, bearing no device, which made him all the more enigmatic. The horse itself follows the same style of armor, coincidentally so familiar that Dunk's stomach churns.
"It can't be," he whispers.
The man walks toward Valarr, staring at him from behind the frightening visor of his helm, but changes direction, stopping in front of Ser Humfrey Hardyng's tent. The challenge is explicit.
Dunk has a strange feeling in his chest. Something seems wrong, out of place. He can't take his eyes off the challenger in frightening armor. The alpha stares at Aerion's empty seat and his stomach churns, making him nauseous.
Sir Hardyng takes his place and the crowd cheers. By this point, Sir Hardyng has defeated fourteen knights, so he is a man to be reckoned with. Brightflame seems confident. Dunk has seen men literally vomit from nervousness before a joust, so when the signal is given and the two advance, Brightflame makes a bold move, dodging the lance and hitting Ser Hardyng, causing him to sway and nearly fall from his horse.
The beta then receives another spear, wasting no time in retaliating. One, two, three spears fly, the entire audience cheers and claps, it's a sight to behold. Ser Hardyng seems dissatisfied, yelling at his squire, feeling humiliated for not yet defeating any knight. They prepare for the fourth lance, Dunk so focused that he barely blinks, and they advance, with Ser Hardyng this time anticipating his opponent's attack, hitting him precisely on the side of the body, the impact strong enough to cause Brightflame's horse to lose control and crash through the fence, falling with its rider.
Dunk can barely pay attention to the commotion of the crowd cheering for Ser Hardyng, his eyes fixed on the small man lying on the ground, writhing in pain. Brightflame struggles to remove the helm from his head, and Dunk feels his knees tremble as he recognizes the silver hair in the distance, Aerion's face contorted in pain and despair.
"Aerion!" Maekar jumps to his feet and everything becomes a blur, with men rushing to help the prince, and Dunk is already moving before he even thinks, the heavy armor making the task more difficult, but he manages to kneel in front of the omega, picking him up without a second thought.
"Get out of the way!" Dunk shouts, hot blood, adrenaline boiling his skin. He clears a path with his large body and carries Aerion to safety, while cries around him desperately call for a maester because the prince is wounded.
Dunk carefully lays Aerion on the floor, frightened by the smell of pain and fear that escapes him. The omega whimpers, preventing Dunk from leaving, holding him tightly until his knuckles turn white.
"Stay, don't leave me," Aerion pleads. Dunk wants to yell at him, call him reckless, irresponsible, foolish. How could he act this way? Risk his life like this?
But Dunk doesn't yell. He just grabs Aerion's hand and squeezes it, trying somehow to comfort him in his pain.
"Where is he?" Dunk hears Maekar's booming voice, and Aerion visibly trembles, knowing he will have to face his father's wrath. Shortly after, Maekar walks through the door, pale as a ghost, crouching in front of his son. "Aerion... Gods, are you all right?" Prince Maekar caresses the dirty face of his only omega son, his face wrinkled with pain and concern.
“My ankle is tingling,” Aerion mutters.
Maekar informs him that the maester is on his way. The older omega's gaze passes affectionately over his son, until it hardens at the point where Dunk is firmly holding Aerion's hand. The knight blinks and lets go of the prince's hand, stammering an apology and stepping away, while Egg, Baelor, and the maester enter through the door.
"Ah, you're still alive," Egg comments, looking somewhat disappointed, and is scolded by his father. The boy lowers his head but does not apologize for his comment.
The old maester carefully examines the prince's ankle, palpating it and asking him to move his foot gently, but Aerion whimpers that he can't, that the pain is unbearable. Dunk's heart feels like it's about to leap out of his mouth, he's so nervous; seeing his omega in pain breaks his heart cruelly. The thought makes Dunk blush. His omega, oh heavens.
“The ankle is sprained, a partial tear, fortunately. It will require a lot of rest in the coming weeks, my prince,” says the old man, eliciting a sigh of relief from everyone in the room.
Baelor pats his brother comfortingly on the back, knowing that a weight has been lifted from his shoulders with the news; despite his harshness, Maekar loves his children unconditionally, he would die if anything happened to any of them.
"The boy is fine, brother."
"No, he's not fine at all," Maekar growls, scratching the back of his neck impatiently. "Have you completely lost your mind, boy? Risking your life like that, and for what? Huh? To challenge me again?"
“I wanted to compete,” Aerion murmurs, while the maester asks for a basin and ice to reduce the swelling. “I asked you countless times, I wanted to compete, I can compete, I'm good at it.”
“Oh, we saw. You ended up with a sprained ankle, clearly you're good at it.”
"I would be even better if you, my father, trusted me. Allow me to practice, just like Valarr, Daeron, why can't I? Why do I have to settle for just learning to be a good housewife, waiting around for a marriage to some disgusting alpha who shows up? When I could be out there, proving my worth, showing that I can be more than just a broodmare!" Aerion spits, clenching his fists.
Maekar takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. There is a deep wrinkle on his forehead, and he seems to count to ten before looking back at his son.
"The world doesn't work your way, Aerion. You are a prince and you have a role to fulfill. Understand once and for all that your place is not on the battlefield."
"But you fought! You, my father, fought in the Blackfyre rebellion," Aerion says, his teeth clenched. "An omega like me, a prince like me. Don't be disingenuous."
Baelor laughs, drawing everyone's attention to himself. Maekar elbows him, reprimanding the gesture.
"He really takes after you, brother."
"Don't encourage him," Maekar scolds.
"He didn't speak untruths. Your father fought, Aerion. Hidden from the king and everyone else, even me. And he proved himself an excellent warrior," Baelor explains succinctly. "He was as irresponsible as you are."
"Baelor..." Maekar growls.
"And I too feared losing him. So, Aerion, I know well where Maekar's fear comes from. No one is prepared to lose someone they love, is that not so, Ser Duncan?"
Dunk is startled by the question, stammering a nod.
"I know you see this as unfair, and maybe it is. Omegas can be just as good on the battlefield as alphas—your father is the perfect example of that—but Maekar just wants to protect you, Aerion. There are traditions to follow. Your father paid dearly after Blackfyre, and I'm sure he doesn't want you to suffer the same fate."
Aerion fell silent as Baelor walked past Maekar and patted him on the shoulder.
"I need to take care of a few things. Ser Hardyng fears reprisals for what happened, but I don't think that will be necessary, right, Aerion?"
The omega's silence was already an answer. Maekar approached and ran his fingers through his son's hair, murmuring "take care" and accompanying Baelor and Egg out of the room.
Dunk found himself lost for a moment, torn between staying and leaving. Should he go? But at the same time, he didn't want to leave Aerion alone in that situation.
"Stay," Aerion whispered, as if reading Dunk's thoughts. The knight did not reply, waiting patiently for the maester to finish his work.
“My prince, you must rest well. We will bandage the sprain and keep your ankle elevated, which will help reduce the swelling. In the meantime, I will bring you some milk of the poppy, which will help with the pain.” The old man looked at Dunk, pointing to Aerion. “Sor, will you help me take him to his room? He needs a bath.”
Dunk picks Aerion up in his arms and heads to his quarters, determined to leave him there so the servants can help him bathe, but Aerion sends them away and says he can do it himself.
"My prince, you are in no condition to move around on your own." Dunk pointed out the obvious, earning a roll of the eyes from the omega.
"I know, brute, that's why you're going to help me."
"Me?"
"I don't want strangers touching me. Come, help me take off my clothes."
Resigned, Dunk helps the prince. He carries Aerion from the bathtub to his room and helps him get dressed, just in time for the maester to return and give Aerion his milk of the poppy, Dunk helps him mount the frame that will keep Aerion's leg elevated, enduring the prince's curses at the knight's lack of tact. Alone, Dunk bites the inside of his cheek and sighs irritably, watching Aerion shift uncomfortably in bed.
"Why did you do that?" Dunk mutters, clenching his fists at his sides.
"I already explained." Aerion snorts like a child, crossing his arms, not daring to face the knight.
"It was a foolish thing to do."
Aerion narrows his eyes. "Who do you think you are to—"
"You could have died, seven hells" Dunk growls, losing his composure. "And for what? A pointless challenge?"
"That's none of your business, knight."
"How did you do it? Who did you threaten so no one would tell your father?"
Aerion pouts. "Some people."
"Seven... And then I'm the brainless alpha."
"I'm going to cut your tongue out," Aerion threatens, but Dunk is used to it by now.
He sits down in an armchair near the fireplace. “I liked your long hair” The confession takes Aerion by surprise. He stares at Dunk with wide eyes and his mouth half open in amazement. “And I like the new cut.”
"Well, you should cut yours."
"Don't you like it, my prince?"
"No, it's ugly, just like you."
Dunk smiles. "You're lying."
"I never lie."
Aerion notices Dunk's gaze passing over his ankle and snorts, rolling his eyes.
"Do you really think your father will hand you over to the first noble alpha who knocks on his door?" Dunk asks quietly, and Aerion takes a moment to respond, thoughtfully.
"Probably. Or I could marry Valarr..." Dunk grimaces and Aerion hides a smile. "But he's not my type. If I wanted dark-haired, dumb-looking kids, I could marry you." Aerion shrugs, and Dunk's stomach churns at the thought.
"Yeah... I guess so..."
"Dunk...?"
"Yes, my prince?"
"Massage my feet, they're sore."
The alpha sighs, taking off his gloves.
"Of course, my prince."