Chapter Text
Dunk should not be so intimidated by a door.
He had faced seven in a battlefield, nearly died an ignoble death in a river, and had gotten lanced in the side not once, but twice. And yet, and yet, he simply could not bring himself to knock.
He couldn't help but turn a bitter glance at his callused palms, wondering, not for the nth time that perhaps if his hands had been softer, if his frame more slender, he would have gone to a warm home and hearth, instead of a hut on the outskirts of King’s Landing, asking for help from a matchmaker. He waffled by the door, wondering if he should give up on the matter altogether and resign himself to dying alone.
As it turned out, the choice would be made for him. The door swung open and a gnarled omega, made smaller by age, peered up at him. “Are you going to stand there all day?” She asked tartly, rapping at his shin with a wooden cane. He winced and fought the urge to spin on his heel and go back from whence he'd came. “Or are you going to come in? You’re blocking all the customers.”
“Oh!” He turned around him. The street was empty, save a stray cat who just as quickly disappeared behind a crooked post. “Right, right.”
She didn’t wait for his response, simply toddling back into the hut, looking as though a stiff wind would knock her over. He followed her in reluctantly, ducking his head to fit into the small, cramped cottage. It was richly decorated, most likely gifts from satisfied customers, happy with the services they received. That alone made him relax and perhaps even a little reluctantly hopeful that perhaps she could do what he failed to do himself.
Hunching in upon himself in a creaky chair made for much smaller creatures than he, he waited patiently as she shuffled to the opposite seat, plopping down with a groan. There was a pause, and the seconds ticked on as the omega waited for her to speak. Then, “Well?” She said impatiently.
Dunk blinked. “Well-?”
“Well, you’re looking for a match, aren’t you?” She said irritably, poking her cane at him once again. Gods that hurt. “Why on earth would you come here, if not for that?”
“Oh!” He blushed, feeling his shoulders rise up to his pink ears. “Right. Yes!”
She eyed him the same way one did a pig at a market. “You’re quite large,” she drawled, looking him up and down. “Tell me, can you sing? Write poetry? Dance?”
”Er.”
”Run an estate?” She pressed, leaning in. “Maintain a household?”
Gods, would he really have to do all that? He scratched the back of his neck, feeling distinctly off-footed. “I can darn a tunic?” He offered.
She looked deeply unimpressed. “Is that all?” She drawled and he got the distinct impression she had found him lacking. The omega shook her head and tsk’ed. “No nobility then. They have no use for an omega who cannot so much as run a household, much less an estate.”
“That’s fine,” he said hurriedly. "I wouldn't know what to say to a noble anyhow." Aside from a perfunctory milord. "I'm not afraid of hard work. As I said, I can darn a tunic, but I also know how to mind a fire, cook a meal. Anything else, I can learn."
She looked at him with a gimlet eye. "I see," she suddenly said and leaned back, tapping her cane absently in thought. "Alright then. I shall have a match prepared for you by the morrow."
“I - already?!” He exclaimed and stood, only to smack his thick head against the wooden beams with a yelp. “I mean - is that all?”
“Don’t you worry, pup,” she said sternly, wagging her gnarled finger. “I’ve never found an omega I couldn't match. Now, you best be getting out of my house till the morrow. Make sure to bathe - you smell like a stablehand.”
Suddenly, Dunk was standing outside, the door firmly shut. He blinked, feeling like he’d been caught up in a storm.
Is she always like this?
When he returned back to the Keep, feeling as though she'd grabbed him by his feet and shaken him, someone was waiting for him.
“Where were you?” Egg said hotly, crossing his arms. He was even tapping his foot, the little shit. “I was looking for you everywhere!”
Dunk flushed. “You’re not my minder,” he said tartly, putting his hands upon his hips and looming over his squire, not that it did anything. Gods only knew the pup was too impertinent for his own good. “And it’s not for lads like you to know!”
Egg narrowed his eyes, looking just as imperious as his lord father. “I’m your squire,” he sniffed. “If anyone should know, it’s me!”
"It's not for lads like you to know," Dunk repeated, at a loss for some smart remark to say. Egg shot him a withering look.
”You were doing something,” Egg accused. He jabbed a finger against Dunk’s chest, standing atop his toes. “You went outside of the Red Keep, didn’t you? What were you doing?”
You’re sounding more like Prince Maekar everyday. “I am a grown man,” he chided, waving away his squire’s accusing hand. “I can go outside the Red Keep if I so please.”
Not to mention he’d rather die than admit the humiliation of having to go to a matchmaker of all things to his squire. There was only so much a man could take.
Egg gave him one more searching look, but blessedly, did not badger him any longer.
In hindsight, perhaps that should have been his first warning.
The next day, Dunk had made sure to wear his best tunic, a fine thing made from richly dyed silk. When he had first begun his tenure in the Dragon House’s service, Prince Maekar had taken one look at him and all-but demanded he dress appropriately to his new station. It wasn’t long before Dunk found his meager set of clothes - two rattan tunics and some very well-darned hoses - replaced by black and red livery. Perhaps that would have been all he had, had Prince Baelor who not intervened.
”Some color wouldn’t be amiss,” the alpha had said kindly, winking when Dunk had stammered his gratitude.
Smoothing down his tunic, he waited anxiously by the matchmaker’s door, wondering if he’d come too early. As if hearing his very thoughts, the door swung open with a clatter.
”Oh good,” the old omega said. “You’re here.”
Garth, as the matchmaker introduced, was a pleasant enough alpha, with the sort of softness to him that spoke of a life well-fed. He was a guardsman, he’d explained earnestly. A part of the City Watch, stationed near Cobbler’s Square. Dunk was immediately charmed by him, his soft brown eyes and easy smile. It seemed Garth had been equally charmed because he just as soon made his intentions clear.
”I should like to court you,” Garth said before he’d left, under the matchmaker’s pleased smile. “Should you accept my suit, while it may be humble, I swear to you that I shall see you happy.”
And oh. How could Dunk ever say no to a promise like that?
Dunk opened his mouth.
”Ser!” A familiar voice gasped. Dunk nearly jumped out of his skin as big violet eyes peered out at him from behind a post. “Don’t tell me you’re saying yes!”
”Egg!” He shouted. Oh gods - where are his guards?! Prince Maekar is going to kill me. “What in the seven hells are you doing here?” His cheeks burned. “And what business is that of yours, if I should accept his suit?”
Garth blinked bemusedly down at Egg who bared his little milk teeth back up at him. “And who’s this little lad?”
”I am Ser Duncan’s squire,” Egg said haughtily. “And more than that, I am Prince Aegon and he, Ser, is my House’s Sworn Sword!”
Dunk groaned as both the matchmaker’s and the alpha’s eyes nearly popped out of their heads. Garth nearly toppled over in his hurry to bow. “Egg, I swear-“
“Ser, is this what you’ve been hiding from me?” Egg was bouncing on his heels now, a pup still for all that he insisted he was grown. “I must insist you say no! Father would be most displeased and-“
At the mention of Egg’s father, he swung the pup up and into his arms, already storming back towards the Red Keep, no thought to the poor alpha behind him. “Does anyone even know you’re out here?” He hissed, his face made pale by a mix of nausea and panic. Oh gods, Prince Maekar is going to hang me up by my toes. "Egg, please tell me no one saw you sneaking out!"
Egg blinked up at him with an innocence he didn’t trust. “No, Ser,” he said. Then, “But they will. Father and Uncle will definitely wish to hear about this.”
Dunk squawked as Egg suddenly wriggled out of his arms and began to run, sprinting the road all the way to the Red Keep.
As much as Ser Arlan had called him thick, it had only taken him a second to figure out what the pup was intending, and another to start sprinting after him.
”Egg!” He shouted, and for the first time that day, wished he hadn’t worn his favorite tunic. The sweat stains are going to be unbearable to get out. “Don’t you fucking dare!”
Baelor was really too old to be mooning over an omega nearly a decade and a half his junior. And yet, here he was, doing just that - mooning.
Fool, Maekar thought sourly, as his brother peered at the most recent tribute sent from Dorne - fat jewels whose shine reminded him of a snake’s scales, and beautifully colorful fabrics that cost more than what most would see in a lifetime. But then again, if Baelor was a fool, what was Maekar?
”I think this color would suit,” Baelor said, straightening up. The color in question was a deep, dark emerald green, to undoubtedly bring out the copper in the omega’s hair. “Don’t you agree, brother?”
”I don’t see why we should dress him in anything but our colors,” Maekar grunted, crossing his arms. "He looks just fine in red and black."
His brother didn't disagree. They were both possessive beasts - t’was in their nature, though Baelor hid it better. "He does look quite fetching in red," Baelor said thoughtfully and his callused fingertips traced over a dark red ruby, laid upon a tray lined with velvet. "Mm. Set in silver or gold?"
"Gold." To match the warmth of his skin. A nearby attendant silently took the tray, setting it aside to the growing pile of gifts, carefully and lovingly chosen.
Baelor was peering now at some golden bangles to match, when there was a sudden commotion outside the door. ”Father!” Aegon shrieked and it was enough to make Maekar’s hair stand on edge, his scent sharpen. “Father!”
Maekar didn’t bother to yell back, flinging the door open. In a blur almost too quick to be seen, Aegon was clambering up and onto him, in a way he hadn’t done since he was very young. Instinctively, he steadied his pup, trying to see what troubled him when Duncan was suddenly barreling up the steps, his face red.
”Egg,” the omega said warningly, and it spoke to how flustered he was that he hadn’t even registered Maekar and Baelor’s presence. “I am warning you for the last time, don’t you dare-”
Aegon, safe in his sire’s grasp, didn’t so much as hesitate. “Ser Duncan is going to get married!” He blurted, then clambered up higher into Maekar’s arms like his father would save him. He would. Maekar would always save him. “You have to stop him!”
Duncan’s face bloomed bright red. “Egg!” He squawked. "Stop talking! Now!"
The words suddenly registered in Maekar’s head and he knew it did in Baelor’s too because there was a clatter of something being dropped behind him.
”I… did not realize you were courting,” his brother said, in the voice he used for council meetings, when he received unpleasant news and was unwilling to show it. “And who is this stranger that you’ve deigned to give your hand to?”
Duncan’s flush deepened, were that even possible. “I - ‘tis nothing official, milord. He only made the offer of courtship today.” He looked down at the floor, as though it held some great mystery. “No hand to be given off just yet.”
Maekar fought the urge to snarl, his lips twitching from the effort. He was sure if he turned, his brother would be no better.
”You must make sure to introduce us,” Baelor said pleasantly, though there was an edge to it. “You are my Sworn Sword, after all. I should know what kind of alpha they are, to ensnare you so.”
Duncan blanched. “Milord, I couldn’t possibly,” he babbled. “A Prince such as yourself needn’t concern yourself with such matters!”
”Peace, Ser Duncan,” Baelor interrupted, raising his hand to silence Duncan in his tracks. “I mean no harm, simply curious. Bring your alpha. Let us see their measure.” An order, thinly veiled as concern.
For all that Duncan called himself thick, it seemed he knew it too because he shrunk in on himself miserably. “Yes, milord. By your leave then.”
Baelor nodded and Duncan left, though not without a look at Aegon, who smiled prettily at him without any sort of repentance. The door swung shut again, with no trace that the omega was ever there except for his sweet, springtime scent that always reminded Maekar of Summerhall, every time he scented it in the air.
And soon - there may be no trace of him again at all.
”Aegon,” Maekar said sternly. Baelor had come closer now, his eyes boring into the pup as though he could pry his little head open and peer inside. “Explain everything. Leave nothing out.”
Baelor crushed the parchment under his grip, nearly tearing it in his hand before he managed to let go, reluctant to lose the precious information they’d gained.
Somehow, someway, a no-name guard had done what two Princes had failed to do and he hadn’t even fucking tried.
He resented the unintended slight.
Beside him, Maekar was little better, his gaze thin and flinty like the edge of a blade. He had read the report in stony silence before he’d given up entirely, slamming his fist once onto the table before throwing himself back onto his chair to brood silently.
”We could kill him,” Maekar said, finally breaking his long silence. “City Watchmen die all the time. ‘Tis no real loss.”
The thought had merit. Baelor turned it over and over in his head, like a coin. “Duncan would not be pleased by such a thing,” Baelor reminded him - and himself.
”What the omega doesn’t know, won’t hurt him,” came the swift, pitiless answer.
”But such a thing would never be a certainty,” he shot back. Secrets were ferreted out just as much as they were kept in the Red Keep. It would only take one loose tongue... “Should he discover it-“
”What is there to discover? Men die all the time in King’s Landing. It would simply be another tally upon the long, unending list of tallies.”
”I will not have us conduct ourselves in a way undeserving of Duncan,” Baelor said firmly. “We will not be killing him.” Unless necessity and desperation called for it.
Maekar hissed, and were he a dragon, he would undoubtedly be alit with flame and fury. “So you’d see our omega swell with another alpha’s child?” He said, baring his teeth. “You will make a poor King, brother, if you cannot stand to kill a man.”
Baelor bared his teeth right back. “I will not let myself be goaded into murdering a guardsman.” He stared his brother down till he reluctantly, mulishly lowered his gaze. “No. I refuse. If we do not earn him fairly, we do not earn him at all.”
Not to mention it would rankle at him for the rest of his life to come second to a no-name guard, that he had to resort to murder in order to win their omega’s hand. Him, a Prince of the realm. Unspeakable.
Maekar grumbled something foul under his breath but he settled under his brother’s command, no matter how reluctant. ”Then what do you suggest?” He asked, sneering at the crumpled parchment like it personally offended him.
”Let us see this alpha first,” Baelor decided. He looked down at the crumpled parchment, his lip curling. “And we shall see exactly what we are dealing with.”
In the safety of his room, a rare privilege afforded to him as the Sworn Sword to the Targaryen household, Dunk sighed and held his head in his hands. Damn Egg and his big mouth.
In hindsight, perhaps Dunk should have known better than to hide such a thing from his squire. Gods only knew Egg would have found out eventually. Perhaps if Dunk had even been a little smarter, he’d have come up with a lie, something believable, even to a pup as sharp as Egg.
Of course, what was done, was done, and now Dunk had to contend with the embarrassment of Prince Baelor and Prince Maekar seeing his desperate attempts to get hitched.
Just the memory of it had Dunk groaning into his hands.
Now, he was somehow tasked with telling Garth that the Princes of the realm wished to see his measure. It was all he could hope for that the alpha didn’t go running in the opposite direction for the Wall.
He wondered briefly if it was too late to call off the matchmaking business altogether.