Chapter Text
Dunk stood before the small castle, thinking about all the things that had brought him to this.
There was his mentor. An Alpha knight named Ser Arlan. He had heard about the tourney through some comrades at the last house they served briefly. Arlan claimed it would be a good chance to earn some coin without too much risk to their lives. There would also be games and tournaments that both he and Dunk, as only a squire, could enter as well. It had been a week of traveling. Just three days ago Arlan had decided to knight Dunk. Claimed that Dunk had been to enough tourneys as just a squire and been doing the work of an Alpha knight for years. Dunk had been surprised and honoured to receive his title. Now Dunk wondered how long Ser Arlan had known his time was coming, for the very next day a fever took hold of the elder knight. By the next night fall Dunk was digging a grave.
Ser Arlan had been all Dunk had in his life for many years, before he even pronounced as an Alpha. The man had taken the scrawny and gangly kid from flea bottom not long after Dunk had seen his best friend die. He had raised Dunk to be a fair and honest Alpha, and to be a knight who held justice for the innocent above all. And all Dunk could do for the man in the end was make sure his grave on the side of the road was deep enough to be undisturbed.
Dunk wished he could have left more with Ser Arlan, but money was tight. Always had been. So, he left the man his sword to carry into the next life but took his coin to help Dunk in this one. It was enough coin that he could spend one last night in an inn. The stable boy had been an amusing pup. Dunk had felt sorry for refusing to take him on as squire. It pulled at his heart strings that he couldn’t offer to the boy what he himself had been so lucky to receive from Arlan. The truth was that Dunk didn’t believe he was ready for a squire; he had only been a knight for less than a week. The bald-headed pup would find someone better.
Hopefully not the drunken man in the inn. The one who had told him he had dreamed of Dunk before fleeing. Surely that man wasn’t a knight. However it wouldn’t be the first time a knight had fallen into his cups too far to get back out. At least the barmaid had reassured Dunk that the drunk was harmless. Dunk had finished his food and gone to his room. There was even a bath. The water wasn’t the hottest, but Dunk was clean for the first time in weeks. It hurt to remove Arlan’s lingering scent, however they had lived together for long enough that there was a subtle hint of the older Alpha’s scent if Dunk pressed his nose to his skin. The clothes on his back would also carry the scent of rain and moss for a while yet.
The bald-headed pup had been stubborn and followed him. In the back of a lamb cart no less. Dunk couldn’t bring himself to be angry, he was sore for company. the pup- Egg- was a jolly and fairly obedient, if mouthy, squire. Picky with his food and full of opinions. Egg was too young to have a pronounced second gender, yet the boy whined that he hoped it would be soon. This the hedge knight understood. Dunk had pronounced late, scenting as an Alpha only a couple years prior at the start of his second decade of life.
Low on coin as they wandered the growing tourney crowd. A pair of omega females had at first teased Dunk for his size and clothes, but quickly warmed up to him once Egg revealed himself. Red, the name of one of the women, had told him Ser Manfred wouldn’t return to his tents for hours. It had been Egg that pointed out the Baratheon tent.
“Perhaps someone in there might know your Ser, Ser.” Egg had suggested.
The pair went in and were easily distracted by the copious amounts of food. It was precisely when Dunk’s mouth was crammed full of lemon cake that the laughing storm approached him. Dunk had visions of him being kicked out of the tent in humiliation. Instead, the curly haired man had looked at Dunk in all his ragged clothes and asked one question.
“Do you dance?” Asked the Baratheon Alpha.
“Who doesn’t?” Dunk finally managed to answer once enough of the cake had been swallowed.
“Amazing!” Lyonel Baratheon pulled Dunk to the center of the tent and soon everyone was dancing around him similar to a maypole. Egg’s laughter carried throughout the tent as he darted between others.
“You brought your pup?” Lyonel asked.
“He’s my squire!” Dunk replied over the loud of the tent.
“I’m going to be a knight! Ser Dunk…can the…tall…will teach me!” Egg announced, also seemingly giving Dunk his knight’s name in one sentence.
“The tall? No, surely you can’t be talking about the fellow-he’s shorter than you!” Lyonel grinned.
Egg’s face held confusion for a moment before Lyonel was lifting Egg up onto his shoulders. Where sure enough, he now was taller than Dunk. The rest of the night passed in great fun. Only ending with a crown of antlers on Dunk’s head and his squire sleepy in his arms.
“Manfred Donddarion is a ripe cunt. Even if he knew your Ser, he wouldn’t help you. Not when the sheer size of you is a threat to his reputation if he were to be matched against you.” Ser Lyonel dashed Dunk’s hopes. “Is there no one else to ask?”
“The only other I can think of who might remember Ser Arlan….no. Ser Arlan may have done well against this man, but I doubt he’d remember.” Dunk sighed.
“Who? Wasn’t me I hope.”
“No, it was the Hand of the King, Prince Baelor.” Dunk admitted. Egg tensed in his arms for a moment, but didn’t open his eyes.
“Well those Targaryen aliens arrived today. Most of ‘em anyways. The younger princes will arrive tomorrow. That Prince Baelor, however, may remember your knight. He’s got a funny way of knowing too much. Probably those eyes. Ask for an audience with him. Out of all those bastards, he’s the most normal.”
“Thank you, I’ll go first thing tomorrow morn.” Dunk returned the crown and carried his squire back to their camp.
As with habit grown over years, Dunk awoke shortly after the sun. The horses were cared for first. Then his squire, and then himself. For not the first time in his life Dunk felt slightly ashamed of his clothes. Although he wouldn’t let his similarly dressed squire know. Egg had asked to remain at the camp while Dunk went to the Hand. He claimed the late night before still had him tired. Dunk took pity on the boy and promised to return with a better lunch.
On his long walk to the small castle Dunk met a friendly squire named Raymun. The pair got along quickly and easily. Raymun had also backed up Lyonel’s claims of Prince Baelor’s kindness and Manfred’s cunt-ness. As they passed the stables they noticed a growing crowd around some black and red flaggery.
“See the younger princes must have arrived.” Raymun rolled his eyes. “Best go the longer way.”
Dunk had never known enough of the royal family to form his own opinion of them. From the people at the tourney who would have had more chances to interact with them, the impression Dunk was getting was not a good one. It was also Raymun who had known which page boy to speak to at the doors of the castle for getting an audience with the Hand. While Dunk waited for the page to return, he was thought of how quickly his life and world had grown. He had acquired a squire and…friends, for the first time in decades. It left him feeling quite warm. What more could he ask for? A mate, perhaps, his heart whispered. No, it was too early for that. Dunk wanted to be a proven knight a mate could be proud of first.
Eventually the page boy wearing a simple black tunic returned and beckoned Dunk to follow.
“Prince Baelor and Prince Maekar are busy, so be quick.” The page boy said with obvious disdain for Dunk as he lead the tall knight through twisting corridors.
The Hammer and the Anvil would be there? Dunk had grown hearing the stories of Redgrass. Now he was to meet two of the most formidable knights in history. He gulped.
Don’t speak first, don’t hold eye contact, and despite the results of Dunks inquires he was to thank the prince for his time, were instructions further given to him by the page. Once the rest instruction was given the page boy disappeared around a corner. The door before Dunk was half open already.
A couple scents wafted through, allowing Dunk the chance to gage the size of audience he was about to have. Easy enough to recognize was the salty beta scent of Lord Ashford. Dunk had never met him, yet his scent was all over the grounds of his lands. There was another beta scent of…vegetables. Much stronger was the Alpha scent of warm spices and smoke, the kind found wafting from a busy kitchen. The strongest scent was the one he inspected last. Smoke like the kind from a forgery, and something not sweet, similar, ye…better. It was the scent of an Omega as well.
The tall man took a half step before pausing. He had forgotten the instructions already.
Don’t speak first…but announce his presence? Or wait to be called in and wait to be spoken to?
Dunk tried to rack his brain for the answer. As he did parts of the conversation already in progress in the room drifted to his ears.
“They can’t have gone too far.” Said the first voice.
“You don’t know that-“ said a second, rushed voice filled with concern.
“We will find them, brother.” Came a calmer voice. The tone was a reassuring one often used on pups.
“Baelor-WHO GOES THERE?” demanded the no longer concerned voice.
“A-apologies, your Grace’s.” Dunk stepped into the room quickly, bowing his head and dropping to one knee. “I did not mean to be spying. Did not want to interrupt. My name is Ser Dunk..can the tall.”
Please let me keep my head.
Inside the room the scents of the other occupants were stronger. The intoxicating unnameable scent was laced with worry. Based on the scents the two betas were sitting at a table to Dunk’s right. The Omega and Alpha scents were more to the left with the warm spice placed directly in front of Dunk.
“I’m sure. You may rise.” A calm voice came from before him.
“Thank you, your grace.” Dunk did. Prince Baelor dressed in all black. A darker vest over a thinner full sleeved linen. His hair was naturally un-Targaryen, with a matching scruff of a beard. Dunk suddenly understood Lyonel’s comments. One of the prince’s eyes was blue, and the other a shade darker than violet. The heir to the iron throne was also admittedly handsome.
Dunk was about to see what the two beta’s to his right looked like when an impatient sigh pulled his attention to his left. Sitting in a high-backed chair was Prince Maekar, the Omega, the Anvil. He wore a black gambeson with a blood red three headed dragon on the chest over red clothes. His hair was more typically Targaryen silver with a matching beard that was slightly longer than his elder brother’s. His cheeks carried pox marks and his posture had him appearing like he was made of stone. Despite the rugged masculinity of the Omega Dunk found himself thinking the prince was quite…pretty. Two violet eyes were burrowing their way into Dunk’s. The Omega’s nose gave a single twitch.
Don’t hold eye contact.
Dunk ripped his eyes away from the younger prince. He focused on breathing. The mystery scent had his skin tingling as it seemed to wrap around him. With the proximity of the scent Dunk could read it more. There was not only concern, but true fear. The Anvil had done a good job of masking most of it.
“Patience, Maekar. Apologies young knight, my brother is simply worried. Two of his pups have gone missing.” Prince Baelor explained.
Why wasn’t anyone comforting the omega prince? Surely there were people looking for his pups.
Dunk would look.
Dunk didn’t dare let the offer escape his lips. He was a lowly hedge knight. There were much better trained knights out there for the job. Out the corner of his eye Dunk looked at the prince again. The Omega’s body language suggested otherwise Surely some of the tenseness in the man must be from the stress of having missing pups. Prince Baelor at the very least-as Prince Maekar’s brother, Prince, and closest Alpha relation-should be using his scent to comfort the stressed-out man. If no one from his pack would use their scent to soothe the Omega Dunk could try.
The hedge knight wasn’t well versed in using scents to appease pack mates. With Rafe they had been too young to be pronounced and therefore scentless. With Ser Arlan, the man hadn’t been well versed in feelings and passed that awkwardness on to his squire. Still, Dunk did two things that shocked him.
First, he tried to send a bit of his scent laced with comfort towards the prince. He couldn’t aim it very precisely, so he shot for the whole left side of the room. Second, he actually stopped the words before they came out of his mouth, cautious not to further worry the omega. He gave the phrase a slight change.
“I’m sure they are safe and will be found so.” Dunk finally said. He wasn’t sure, but perhaps Prince Maekar’s shoulders relaxed a tinge from the words and the scent.
“One missing is his eldest, more than likely took his brother with him to the nearest pub so as not to rat him out. Now, knight, what has brought you before us?” Prince Baelor’s words drew Dunk’s attention back to him.
As Dunk spoke, he could feel violet eyes on him. Could swear that he felt when the eyes were on his hair, his shoulders, his clothes. Dunk stood tall as he spoke with the Hand. Thankfully, the hand did recall Ser Arlan.
“You will need your own shield and armour.” Prince Baelor’s words dashed Dunk’s growing hope.
“Short of cash, are you?” Lord Ashford asked with a mocking smirk to his lips. Dunk had forgotten there were the two betas in the chamber.
“Aye, milord.” Dunk looked at his ragged shoes with heated cheeks. “I’d hate to sell my mare.”
“Your mare?” Maekar asked, his first words aimed at the knight since the spying accusation.
“Aye, my Prince. She’s a fabulous horse. The only way I could afford such armour would be to sell her.” Dunk glanced at prince Maekar’s face again. He couldn’t help it. Prince Maekar looked to his brother. Unspoken words must have passed between them. Dunk stood there, feeling as awkward as a fawn new to standing.
“Perhaps you may visit the armourer in the red tent tomorrow late in the morning. Likely to have parts already made and simply be tailored to your…height. It will be a fraction of the cost” Prince Baelor said eventually.
“Th-thank you your grace!” Dunk missed the confused glances of the beta’s in the corner.
Prince Baelor lifted his hand and gave a slight bow of his head. After a moment dunk understood the dismissal. He bowed and left, turning the way that allowed him one more glance at Prince Makar. Who was also looking at him still. Something stirred in Dunk’s chest. He didn’t know what it meant.
For second time in his life Dunk cursed Ser Arlan. The first time was for dying. Now, he cursed him for not teaching him more nuances of being an Alpha. Arlan had always said they’d have more time to learn all of the angles of being an Alpha, Beta or Omega.
What a crock.
Maekar watched unable to look away as the large hedge knight turned out the door. Then as he quickly walked across the doorway to go in the correct direction. Normally such idiocy would irritate him. Today it endeared him. Maekar did his best to shake off such feeling.
"What a ridiculously large man." Lord Ashford snorted "And yet a seeming lack of brains."
The tension returned to Maekar’s body at the words. He was close to snapping the infuriating beta. Lucky for the Beta, Baelor was able to read his brothers mood with ease.
"Leave us please. We will meet you shortly." Prince Baelor instructed everyone in the room who was not Maekar.
The men shuffled out, leaving the brothers in peace. Maekar took a deep breath. He had been on edge since the discovery that Daeron and Aegon were not where they were supposed to be.
For Daeron it wasn't shocking behaviour. He had gone on many unwarned drinking binges. As long as he had the coin for what he could drink the young man would reasonably be alright. Daeron had always found his way back home when his coin ran out.
It was more Aegon that had Maekar so worried. His youngest son. Barely old enough to be off Maekar's hip. The gods had blessed that boy with too large a sense of adventure. He hadn't even pronounced yet. Just a pup. Simply having the pup out of his sight for more than a day unsettled Maekar.
Another breath. Simple air entering his lungs would eventually help him to calm his nerves. The added scent of the hedge knight- earth and trees and sun- worked quickly to soften Maekar’s posture. His body that had been shaking with nerves for days finally calmed with the help of the comfort the young knight had roughly added and aimed towards the princes.
The alpha knight seemed awkward with his mannerisms, yet none of the rest of him was awkward. Tall and his skin shun golden with evidence of a life spent outside. Lightly muscled, enough to make him decent at his job, but not so muscled to indicate serious training. Ser Duncan would surely gain that as he grew. Blue eyes that easily let up with joy, and a smile that was like a knife in Maekar’s heart. His clothes had clearly seen better days. The man was barely older than Daeron.
Baelor’s eyes were on him, he knew. His eldest brother preferred to watch than to speak. Miss-matched eyes seemed to allow him to deduce much more from people’s body language and words. Clearly, he had come to some conclusion about the events of the last few minutes. It was also clearly something that he knew Maekar wouldn’t enjoy.
"Maekar..." Baelor began softly.
"Do not, brother."
"I must. As your older brother, not the Prince." Baelor's eyes took in the sight of his brother.
His brother who had been tense for his whole adulthood, let alone the additional stress of missing pups. Whose body looked like there could possibly be a crack in the stone he was made of, all from the scent and presence of a knight. His brother who had not been treated kind by his first Alpha. His brother who seemed to reject and fight every omega instinct in him- bar caring for his pups- in fear of being seen as weak ever since he reached adulthood. His brother who had not reacted positively to the scent of anyone who was not family since before his wedding night.
"Daeron-"
"Is drunk somewhere, I can assure you." Baelor immediately ended that line of discussion "The hedge knight. His scent comforted you. Just a sniff and you’re calmer. It is an interesting scent he carries. Pairs well with-"
"Baelor, you could not mean that.”
"I know you are worried for your pups. But to ignore your possible scent match?"
"He cannot- you can't be-” Maekar closed his eyes and tightly gripped the arm of the chair. “We have not touched skin to skin, so there is no way to know.”
"I can see it. Plain as day. You must recognize at least the possibility-you wish to armour the man, lest he have to sell a horse."
"I cannot." Maekar gripped the arms of the chair even harder, war raging in him. His omega wanted to bathe in the Alpha knight's scent, to remember the look of adoration in the knight’s eyes as he spoke of his horse. Memory of his past Alpha’s criticisms had that grinding to a halt. Maekar allowed himself one last toke of the comforting scent. He found an answer there. "There's a pup scent on him. He's mated."
"There was no claim on him." The edge of the hedge knights shirt had been low enough to show bare, unmarked skin.
"I will not steal and Alpha from someone. He didn’t seem to think we were a possible match either.”
"There's no scent of a mate to him. He's obviously spent time with that Baratheon man, but nothing intimate." Baelor spoke as he investigated the scent "The pup scent...familair...but most pups are that way. Too young to have pronounced. Ser Dunk-" Baelor's lips twitched at the way Maekar's eyes softened at the name "most likely has a squire."
"I will arrange his armour, but that is all I will do regarding that knight." Maekar said, his tone heavy with finality. “I’m arranging more men to look for my boys.”
Baelor sighed and slouched into the seat. Maekar walked briskly from the room, his path very unintentionally crossing through where the hedge knight had stood and laid his scent the strongest.
The Hand to the King broke out into a smile. His eyes glimmered with knowledge that even he could not claim to know the source of. The knowledge that coming to this small tourney was one of his best decisions yet. If buying a hedge knight some armour would lead to his brother’s happiness he would buy enough to outfit an army.
He should also probably find his nephews. Armour was easier.