Chapter Text
Baelor stared at his father in disbelief. The king had at least enough decency to appear contrite at his advisers’ suggestion.
“I know I’m asking a great deal, my son. But you must understand that I'm doing it for the stability of the kingdom,” King Daeron said wearily. “At least consider it.”
“Jena has given me two strong sons. My brothers also have children. The line of succession could not be more secure,” replied Baelor, masking his anger. He was the heir to the throne; he could not throw a tantrum in front of the council. “I see no reason why you think I should take a new omega.”
“It's not about the line of succession, but about you, Baelor,” replied King Daeron, squeezing his eldest son’s hand. “I don't want you to bear the weight of the crown alone. Please, at least think it through. Is there really no one with whom you could share it?”
“I’ll think about it, Father,” said Baelor. Upon hearing those words King Daeron smiled with relief. Then the council returned to other urgent matters. But Baelor didn't hear a word that was said in that meeting. His mind was still on his father's request.
There was someone with whom he would gladly share his life, all his worries and his joys. Someone he had longed for for years. Someone who would never return his feelings. He felt pitiful thinking about it. He was a grown alpha who still thought about a childhood infatuation. Or by now, a love he's been wanting for decades. For people around Baelor was a perfect alpha, an excellent knight, a prince from childhood stories. He just accepted what people seemed to think about him. Under that mask was a weak man, obsessed with his younger brother.
***
When he returned to his chambers that evening, Maekar was already waiting there.
He was sprawled in an armchair, slowly munching on nuts. He must've brought them himself, as if Baelor’s chambers belonged to him as well, because the bowl definitely wasn't there in the morning.
“Well, what's mine could be his one day," flashed through Baelor’s mind.
Maekar gave him a bored look, as if it was the alpha who was bothering him, and not the other way round. His sweet, lavender scent subtly filled the room.
“You took your time,” said Maekar, reaching for more nuts from the bowl.
“I didn’t know we were supposed to meet tonight, brother,” replied Baelor, sitting down in the armchair beside him.
“I received a very interesting letter today,” said Maekar, ignoring his brother’s grumbling. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his richly embroidered robe and handed it to Baelor. It bore a familiar lion-shaped seal.
“Lannister?” said Baelor, then unfolded the letter.
“His wife died six moons ago, and the fool’s already asking for my hand, can you believe it?” said Maekar, his face contorting with disgust.
“Does our father know about this?” asked Baelor, reading the letter. He had to admit one thing: Lannister was surely generous. The amount of gold he was offering for the hand of the omega prince would certainly be a great boon to the royal treasury.
“Seven, no. Though our dear Mother will surely pass this joyful news to him,” said Maekar, rolling his eyes. “She’s been urging me again to consider remarrying. As if I have any real say in the matter.”
“Father suggested the same thing to me at the council meeting today,” Baelor confessed, setting the letter down on the table. “He says I should consider it not only for the Kingdom, but for myself.”
“Well, don’t be surprised if some idiot tries to shove his omega child in your arms soon. You know how greedy those people can be,” said Maekar, yet again reaching for more nuts. He was obsessed with them before little Rhae was born, and it clearly didn't stop. The constant crunching slowly started to annoy Baelor.
“In that case, I shall decline them politely. I have no desire to court an omega barely older than my own sons,” sighed Baelor, grabbing the jug standing on the table. Without a word, he filled two cups, pushing one towards Maekar, hoping it would distract him from his snack. The omega nodded gratefully.
“Seven above, I can just see my pups getting on with a stranger alpha. They’ll scare off anyone who’s to have the honour of my hand in marriage in no time,” Maekar laughed sarcastically, referring to his brood of children. He was right, his numerous children sometimes resembled a pack of wild animals. Although Baelor kept that thought to himself. But Maekar’s words gave him a slightly questionable idea…
“We should get married. You and I,” Baelor said quickly, before he had time to fully consider the weight of his words. Taken aback, Maekar choked on his wine.
“What the fuck? Have you gone mad?” asked Maekar, looking at his brother in astonishment.
“That’s a sensible idea. Think about our children,” said Baelor. His heart was pounding as if it was about to leap out of his chest. If Maekar rejected him now, he would never recover.
“We're brothers, Baelor. I doubt the kingdom will be all over the moon upon hearing about our marriage,” said Maekar, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“We're Targaryens. And contrary to what you think, you have every quality needed to become the queen consort of the Seven Kingdoms,” said Baelor, taking his brother’s hand. Maekar’s slender fingers squeezed his hand. “You know I would never try to replace Dyanna. Your children’s lives will remain stable.”
“And what of our lives?” asked Maekar. His face was serious, but his pheromones remained sweet and soothing.
“I won’t force you into anything, sweetling. But I can promise that I’ll look after you and respect you, just as I’ve done all our lives,” replied Baelor, squeezing the omega’s hand once more.
***
That same evening, Baelor and Maekar went to the King and Queen’s chambers to break the news to them.
It was strange to see his usually stubborn and proud brother so nervous. He was always like that around their parents. Baelor knew that their parents loved all of them, but he also knew how busy they could be. That was why he had spoiled Maekar so much in his youth, not wanting him to feel rejected or ignored. Of course, this didn’t mean the omega had stopped seeking his parents’ attention, though he often got himself into trouble as a result. Unfortunately, his little brother had no talent for the fine arts, nor the patience for lessons with his appointed Septa. He would often sneak out to the training ground, much to their mother’s horror. Baelor always looked on his younger brother with admiration. He was strong. Baelor would have entrusted his life to him, knowing that with Maekar by his side, he could face anything. Even their parents.
“Are you sure about this?” asked Maekar once they had stopped near the King and Queen’s chambers. He was, as usual, proud and upright, but his eyes betrayed his uncertainty.
“More than ever,” said Baelor, taking his brother’s hand. He shouldn’t have done it with the guards standing a few metres away, but he didn’t care about etiquette. He would marry Maekar no matter what.
“What if they refuse? What if they’ve already chosen someone?” asked Maekar, clasping Baelor’s hand. It was strange to see the omega so afraid. His brother had fought in a war, birthed and raised six children, and yet he was afraid to ask his parents for this one
single thing.
“Then I’ll take you to Dragonstone and marry you there, with or without our parents blessings. I won’t let you bind yourself to a stranger,” replied Baelor, drawing Maekar’s hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss upon it.
He pulled Maekar towards the door. The guards standing watch outside the chamber bowed to the two princes and then, without a word, let them in.
Their parents were still awake. The sound of the door opening startled them from their conversation. Their father was sitting by the fireplace, holding some papers in his hands. Their mother sat before her dressing table, combing her long, dark hair with a golden, ornate brush. They were evidently planning to retire for the night shortly. Baelor almost felt bad for interrupting their time together. Almost.
“Baelor, Maekar, to what do we owe this visit at such an hour?” asked Daeron, placing the documents on a nearby table. He looked his sons over carefully.
“You asked me today to consider remarrying,” Baelor began, instinctively straightening his back. Now he was no longer a son speaking to his father, but a subject presenting his request before the king. “I believe I have found a suitable candidate.”
“Well then, I'm all ears, my son,” said Daeron, taking Myriah’s delicate hand. His mother moved silently to sit beside her husband.
“I will marry Maekar,” Baelor declared without a moment’s hesitation. “It's a reasonable match. The line of succession is perfectly secured. Introducing someone new could weaken that stability. Many would like to see their own blood on the throne. Besides… Maekar is the perfect candidate. He has proven his loyalty to the Throne time and again. He is respected by many lords and knights. And I know he will prove himself as my Queen one day. He is the only person in this castle, and perhaps in this kingdom, to whom I would entrust my life.”
“And do you agree with this?” Myriah asked Maekar. Her expression was hard to read.
“I agree,” said Maekar, looking steadfastly at his parents. “You know me well enough, Mother. You know I wouldn’t entrust myself and my children to someone I don't find worthy.”
“Well, it’s settled then,” Daeron clapped his hands, looking at his sons with a beaming smile. “You’ll be getting married before the end of the year, perhaps in the summer. Summer sounds lovely, doesn’t it, darling?”
“Absolutely,” replied Myriah with an equally joyful smile. “Daenerys wrote in her letters about a wonderful troupe of acrobats who recently visited Sunspear. Perhaps we’ll manage to invite them to the celebrations?”
“You… agree?” asked Maekar, casting a disbelieving look at Baelor. Alpha couldn’t believe what had happened either. Their parents didn’t seem the least bit surprised.
“To tell the truth, we’ve been expecting this for quite some time now,” said Myriah, giving her sons an amused look. “You’ve never been very subtle, my children.”
Baelor felt his face burning with embarrassment. Even his parents were aware of his childish infatuation with his younger brother. Well, he would get over it, somehow. The main thing was that Maekar was finally to become his mate, even if it was only platonic. Baelor would get over the unrequited feelings somehow. He had to.
***
That summer, to the great delight of King Daeron II and Queen Myriah, Prince Baelor Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne and Hand of the King, married his younger brother, Prince Maekar Targaryen of Summerhall.
Nothing had changed, and yet nothing remained the same.
***
After their wedding, Jena insisted that breakfast should be their little, peaceful moment. And so she always began her mornings with Baelor. Soon little Valarr joined them, and a few years later, sweet Matarys. Baelor learned to cherish these moments. Just his little family, far from the expectations and watchful eyes of the court. When the cruel passage of time took the delicate Jena from them, Baelor did not break with the tradition she had started. As usual, he began the morning in his Solar in the company of his wonderful sons. Though this time the atmosphere was a little strange.
“Kepa…” began sweet Matarys, shyly poking at his plate. “Shouldn’t we be eating in the dining room now?”
“Would you prefer us to do that?” asked Baelor. The question threw him off balance. For years, they had started the day in exactly the same way. Just him and his boys, sharing their mornings.
“It’s just… you’re married to Uncle Maekar now. Shouldn’t we start the day with him and our cousins?” asked Matarys, glancing at his plate.
“To be honest, I haven’t spoken to him about it,” sighed Baelor, looking at his sons. “We’ve agreed with your uncle that we’ll take things slowly. We want you to get used to the new situation.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Valarr interjected, looking first at Baelor, then at Matarys. “Daeron mentioned something about returning to Summerhall. It would be nice to enjoy the company of our cousins while they’re here.”
“I wouldn’t mind either,” said Matarys, blushing slightly. Whatever was on his mind, he didn’t say. Baelor didn’t press the matter, though he made a mental note to keep an eye on his sweet son.
“All right, I’ll speak to Maekar about it,” said Baelor. The joy visible on his sons’ faces warmed his heart. “But I can’t promise anything. Your uncle can be stubborn at times.”
“Uncle Maekar is impressive,” Matarys said unexpectedly. “I saw him yesterday on the training ground. He easily defeated Ser Harrold, and that's the best knight I know!”
“Well, Maekar has always preferred a sword to a lute,” laughed Baelor, casting a playful glance at his sons. “He once broke my nose when I tried to persuade him to take lessons with Septa.”
“Will you be happy with him, Kepa?” asked Valarr, looking closely at his father.
“Well, he’s my younger brother. No one knows me as well as he does,” Baelor replied enigmatically. Valarr nodded, clearly understanding the meaning of those words.
Baelor didn’t have the heart to tell his sons the truth about this marriage. Yes, he had loved Maekar all his life. He was his sweetling, an extension of his soul. But Baelor was, after all, also a coward. Years ago, he had chosen the crown over his feelings, afraid that otherwise he would have hurt his brother. And he had been happy during those years when he was blessed to be with sweet Jena. She was the ray of light that brightened his days. She had given him two wonderful sons. He wouldn’t have traded those years for anything. And Maekar was just as happy with Dyanna, judging by their many children. Now, after all these years, Maekar was his omega. In the future, he was to become his Queen, sharing with him the worries and joys of the crown. But all of this was merely a convenient arrangement, designed to ensure the peace of their children and the security of the succession. Yes, for Baelor, it was love. But for Maekar, it was a duty. And the worst thing was, Baelor built that cage with his own hands.
***
Maekar was sitting in his chambers with his three youngest children. Aerion was on the training ground, no doubt terrorising the squires his own age. He loved his son with all his heart, but he’d had enough of listening to complaints from young alphas who were afraid of him. As if it were Aerion’s fault that the younger generation of nobles had become cowardly. Daeron was supposed to be keeping an eye on Aerion today to ensure he behaved during training, but he’d managed to wriggle out of that too. Well, actually, Valarr had come to Maekar the evening before and asked if his cousin could accompany him on a horseback expedition. Omega agreed, knowing that his nephew was responsible enough to look after Daeron for a few hours. This left Maekar with three children and the Queen, who had been trying for weeks to persuade him to have tea with her.
He knew his mother would want to question him about the state of his marriage to Baelor. There had been no bedding ceremony after the wedding, which naturally aroused the curiosity of the entire Red Keep. They certainly expected the Targaryen line to soon be expanded by another member. Well, if so, they were in for a long wait. Baelor hadn’t even attempted to consummate their marriage, much to Maekar’s displeasure. But such was the nature of the arrangement he’d agreed to himself. Besides, he had his hands full with his brood of children. He shouldn’t be longing for another one.
“Muña, you’re pulling my hair again!” cried Daella, squirming in her chair. Maekar felt his eyelid twitch with nerves. He set the silver brush down on the dressing table.
“I wouldn’t be pulling you if you’d just sit still,” replied Maekar, trying to keep his cool. He took hold of his daughter’s soft, sandy hair once more, intending to braid it into an elegant plait. Her hair was like Dyanne’s, smooth and wavy.
“Muña, is it going to be much longer?” whinged little Aegon, flopping down onto the cushions next to little Rhae. Maekar felt his irritation mounting. He’d answered that question far too many times over the last ten or so minutes.
“We’ll go to the Queen as soon as I’ve finished your sister’s hair,” replied Maekar, taking a deep breath. “And sit properly, or you’ll crease your doublet, Aegon.”
“Muña, is Uncle Baelor coming too?” asked Daella sweetly, kicking her legs. She gently handed him a lilac ribbon.
“Your uncle is very busy serving the kingdom. He doesn’t have time for tea with the Queen,” replied Maekar, taking the ribbon from his daughter’s hand. He gently wrapped the ribbon around the end of her plait, then picked up the brush again, wanting to comb through the remaining loose waves one more time.
“But he’s your husband now. Shouldn’t you be together all the time?” asked Daella, furrowing her brow. She clearly must have remembered how Maekar and Dyanna used to spend time at Summerhall. But those were different, calmer times.
“Well, your uncle will sit on the Throne one day,” said Maekar, smoothing Daella’s pretty hair one last time. “He has to keep learning for the role of King. It’s a very big responsibility.”
“Muña, are you and Uncle going to have a baby soon?” asked Daella innocently, slowly sliding down from her chair. “I’d like another little sister.”
“Muña isn’t going to have any more children!” cried Aegon, leaping up from the soft cushions. Maekar looked at the boy in surprise.
“Yes, he will! Muña’s going to give me another sweet little sister!” Daella shouted, the fabric of her purple dress rustling as she ran up to her brother.
“Stop it at once!” shouted Maekar, taking Rhae, who was upset by the shouting, into his arms. The girl nestled against his chest, hiding her head from the noise. Maekar gently kissed her little head, then looked at the other two children. “You’ve upset your sister.”
“We’re sorry, Muña,” said Aegon and Daella in unison. Maekar merely shook his head as he looked at his children.
“Your uncle already has his own heirs,” said Maekar, gently releasing soothing pheromones. The familiar, lavender scent should help the children relax. “Besides, I’ve got enough to worry about with all six of you. That’s probably enough for me, isn’t it?”
In response, his children snuggled up against his legs. Maekar merely sighed, then gently stroked their heads. They were growing up so fast. Sometimes he wished he could stop time, to savour the fact that the children still needed him. Even if, more often than not, they gave him a headache. They were all he had left of his dear Dyanna. The only person in the whole Kingdom who had seen something more in him and loved him unconditionally. Even Baelor’s love and care came with conditions. Maekar now had to put on a brave face. He’d dug this grave for himself.
***
When Baelor returned to their shared chambers that evening, Maekar was getting ready for bed.
His hair was still damp from his bath, clinging lightly to the nape of his neck. Beneath the light strands, a bite mark was visible, one that Baelor had left on him during their wedding ceremony. Seven above, his younger brother was a sight for sore eyes. Somehow, in a delicate, simple nightgown, he looked even more beautiful than in his impeccably tailored outfits. If he could, Baelor would have fallen to his knees before him and worshipped every perfect inch of his omega’s body. Maekar deserved it.
Instead, Baelor began to unbutton his doublet, longing for the warm bath that was surely waiting for him. He needed to clear his head.
When he returned, Maekar was waiting for him in bed. He wasn’t asleep yet; instead, he was straining his eyes by candlelight, reading a letter. Baelor lay down silently beside him. Their bed smelled like a blend of their scents. Lavender and cedarwood, a soothing mix. The complete opposite of their current relationship.
“The boys asked if we could start having breakfast together,” said Baelor, watching Maekar’s figure intently. He sometimes wondered how his brother had managed to give birth to six children. His body was so firm and toned. That was another thing that impressed Baelor.
“What a coincidence, Daella asked me the same thing,” said Maekar, before placing the letter on the bedside table. He turned to one side so that Baelor could see him better.
“Do you think she and Matarys…” began Baelor, his eyes widening in surprise.
“I don’t think anything. They’re seven years old; whatever it is, they’ll grow out of it, hopefully,” Maekar replied gruffly. “But yes, we can eat together. It’ll be good for the children.”
“Well, my boys will certainly be delighted,” said Baelor, gazing into Maekar’s violet eyes. His brother really was out of this world. “How… how was your day?”
“Mother invited me for tea,” said Maekar, rolling his eyes. “She wanted to ask about our marriage. I brought the children with me, so she didn’t get the chance.”
“Father’s just the same. They’ve actually been waiting for this longer than we have,” said Baelor. He was tempted to ask what had so intrigued their mother, but he preferred not to tease Maekar.
“Well, in that case, they’ll be a bit disappointed,” replied Maekar, rolling onto his back with a groan. His fair hair spilled across the pillow. “I’ll have to go back to Summerhall for a while. To remind our vassals to whom they swore their allegiance.”
“You know I won’t hold you back from your duties,” Baelor replied. He hesitated before asking the next question, but the matter had to be addressed sooner or later. “Your heat… I wanted to ask if you’d like my company during that time.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Maekar said quietly. Baelor sensed that something was clearly troubling his younger brother. “I’ll probably be at Summerhall at that time. But… if you're asking because you’d like my help during your rut, I can…”
“You don’t have to do anything, sweetling. I don’t want to force you,” said Baelor. And that was the truth; he didn’t want Maekar to feel obliged to do anything. This was meant to be an arrangement for their convenience. He had no intention of overstepping his omega’s boundaries.
Maekar said nothing. Baelor didn’t press the matter either. A moment later, a maid entered the chamber to extinguish the candles. Sleep was slow to come to the alpha. He wondered if he’d done the right thing by proposing marriage to his younger brother. They’d been married for barely a few months, and the omega was already running away from him. Baelor felt as though he’d unwittingly condemned his sweetling to misery. And that was the last thing he wanted to bring upon Maekar.
***
Truth be told, Maekar hadn’t been entirely honest with Baelor about the tea with their mother.
The children were quickly distracted by the new toys Queen Myriah had ordered for them straight from Dorne. They quietly focused on playing, which greatly surprised Maekar. Usually, his pups were nearly uncontrollable. This, unfortunately, left him at the mercy of his mother and an undoubtedly awkward conversation.
“They’re absolutely adorable when they play like that, aren’t they?” said Myriah with a smile, watching her grandchildren playing so politely.
“Of course, they're like little angels,” Maekar muttered under his breath, taking a sip of tea. His mother had chosen his favourite, with a delicate rose aroma. At least that lifted his spirits a little.
“I hope we’ll hear some good news soon and that another little one will join this your bunch,” said Myriah, casting a meaningful glance at Maekar’s flat stomach. Of course, that was the real reason for this invitation to tea. Omega shot her a disapproving look and clinked his cup back onto the saucer.
“I'm afraid one lifetime isn't long enough for that,” Maekar hissed, shooting his mother an angry look. “Baelor made himself clear; the line of succession is secure. There’s no need for another child.”
“I am not blind, my son,” Myriah replied, sitting up straight in her chair. “I have always seen how your brother looks at you and your children. If you think he wouldn’t want this with you…”
“I can’t give him any more children!” Maekar snarled. His pheromones were spiralling out of control; the fresh scent of lavender had turned dry and scorched.
“Explain,” said Myriah, radiating calm. Her familiar scent of blood oranges and cinnamon reminded him of his childhood. The omega took a deep breath, allowing his mother’s pheromones to settle.
“Since Rhae was born… my heats aren’t the same anymore,” Maekar said quietly, admitting his weakness with shame. “They’re irregular, painful, and above all, completely unattractive to an alpha. Maester doubts I can conceive a child again. And that means I’m no longer of use to the Kingdom.”
“Have you spoken to Baelor about this?” asked Myriah, suddenly looking serious.
“Baelor is a man of honour, you know it as well as I do,” said Maekar. His mother didn’t need to know that they hadn’t slept together even once. That would shatter the illusion of their ideal, loving marriage. “Besides, he admitted himself that he doesn’t need any more children. Why would he care about that?”
“Your brother cares about everything related to you, he always did,” said Myriah, gently taking his hand. “Which Maester examined you? You know they’re often wrong, especially when it comes to omega biology.”
“The old Maester from Summerhall. He retired when Rhae was still a baby,” said Maekar. It felt strange to open up to his mother after so many years. He had always missed her attention, yet at the same time he had tried not to seek it, not wanting to appear weak.
“The future isn’t set in stone, my son,” said Myriah, smiling gently at him. “I’ll send a few letters; I’m sure there are people in the Kingdom who’ll take better care of you.”
Maekar didn’t have time to refuse his mother, for Aegon came running up and threw himself onto his lap, crying. Daella came running up straight after him, explaining something in an extremely chaotic way. Once again, he was swept up in the chaos his children brought with them. He instinctively took care of them, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He wondered if Baelor would finally ask to spend their cycles together. He had longed for this since his youth, and when he could finally have it, his body had decided to let him down. He wondered if all this was a punishment from the Gods for his greed and pride, for defying the natural order of things. Deep down, he longed for a child who shared his and Baelor’s traits. And yet, he knew it was impossible.
Besides, it was not like Baelor wanted it anyway.
Maekar was a flawed man. He could be stubborn and gruff at times, but he wasn’t blind. He was well aware of the rumours circulating at court, certainly. But above all, he saw what the courtiers were up to. The influx of young omegas was quite obvious. Greedy lords were sending their children to court under the pretext of becoming ladies-in-waiting for one of the young princes. It was an excuse as old as time, and Maekar didn’t believe any of it. His oldest nephew, Valarr, was an alpha of age four and ten, and it was more than inappropriate for him to be left alone in company of unmated omegas. And Maekar’s two older sons, both omegas, were younger than their cousin, barely coming of age. As for all the omegas arriving at court, most of them were several years older and certainly unsuitable as companions for Daeron and Aerion. They were, however, well-suited to warming the heir to the throne’s bed. The more brazen among them didn’t even try to hide it.
Maekar was seeing his husband in the company of some young, pretty omega more and more often. Baelor always followed etiquette and kept a proper distance. Maekar knew that his alpha wouldn’t disgrace him like that. He knew his brother rather well, and Baelor was not a man to break his vows. And yet he couldn’t stop wondering. Did Baelor regret marrying him? When he looked at those delicate, untouched omegas, did he desire them? Or perhaps every night, before coming back to their marital chambers, he took one of them to bed and touched them as he might touch Maekar? They were so petite and slender, just as Maekar had been many, many years ago. Now, after the birth of six children and years of training with the mace, his body was far from delicate. The smallpox scars had never faded, forever marring his skin. No wonder Baelor had never tried to touch him. He must have been repulsed by an omega like Maekar. He could have had anyone in the Kingdom, yet for some reason he chose Maekar.
Omega couldn’t help but wonder whether this farce had any deeper meaning, or whether it was just another punishment sent down upon him by the Gods.
***
The following years of their marriage brought no change.
They spoke, but not entirely honestly. They shared a bed, but not in the way a married couple ought to. They had become strangers to one another, distant, completely different from how they had been as brothers. Maekar continued to travel between King’s Landing and Summerhall, constantly tending to the Targaryen vassals located nearby. Baelor juggled the roles of the Hand of the King, heir to the throne, and father and husband. Despite everything, their children seemed to be thriving, and that was what mattered most.
Valarr had become an excellent warrior, though he fared splendidly amongst the courtiers. He was sought after by women and men from various houses, but he ignored their advances. As it soon turned out, that was because his eyes were already set on one omega. Baelor began taking him to council meetings, wanting his firstborn to start learning about his duties, and there too he fared splendidly. He was calm and composed, presenting his views with due respect. Baelor was proud of his son and the alpha he was becoming.
Sweet Matarys spent his days with Daella. They were the same age, and the girl quickly helped him shed his shy demeanor. Together they practised with swords, attended lessons with the Septa, and even sneaked out of the castle, much to their parents’ horror. The Maester announced that the young prince was getting closer to presenting. Omega, the old man speculated. Baelor worried about his son, but Maekar proved to be an unexpected source of support; he himself had two omega sons and was ready to take Matarys under his wing when the time came.
Daeron and Aerion, though both omegas, were completely different. The elder spent his days wandering about the castle or sipping wine. Valarr often sought his company and, with his uncle’s permission, took Daeron for walks or horse rides. This calmed the omega’s mind, though only for a brief moments. The tonics from the Maesters did nothing to ease his worsening nightmares. His screams robbed the fortress’s inhabitants of their sleep. Maekar worried about his son, yet at the same time was angry with him for his constant drinking. In an act of desperation, he asked Bloodraven for help, who promised to find something that would calm Daeron’s dreams. The younger of the princes, however, struck terror into the hearts of alphas his own age. He was much like his Muña, strong and exceptionally gifted in combat. This, however, meant that few wished to approach him. Even the ladies of the court seemed to fear him. Aerion could not be denied his beauty; he had inherited the best features from his parents. Unfortunately, his unbridled temperament repelled any potential suitors. Maekar, though irritated, turned a blind eye to his son’s explosive behaviour, regarding it as a cry for attention.
Over the years, they never once shared a heat or a rut. Maekar would always slip away to Summerhall, sometimes accompanied by his younger children, and spend his heats there. Baelor did much the same, hiding away in secluded chambers in the Tower of the Hand. This gave rise to speculation amongst the inhabitants of the Red Keep, especially as they had yet to produce a child together. Soon, the Kingdom was no longer whispering about their love, but about sorcery and a marriage of convenience.
These whispers reached the ears of the King and Queen, causing them increasing concern for the safety and future of their family. So when the invitation from Lord Ashford arrived, they did not hesitate. They simply ordered Baelor and Maekar to take the children and go to the tournament. They had to present a strong, united front to the common people.
No one could have foreseen the consequences that the journey to Ashford would bring.
***
Somehow, just after two days the tournament at Ashford had turned into a nightmare.
Baelor felt exhausted when he finally returned to the chambers they had been assigned. Maekar was already waiting for him there, looking unusually agitated. The whole room smelled of a nervous omega. His brother had spent the whole day worrying about his missing sons, and once they’d been found, they’d somehow managed to cause even more trouble. Though he wouldn’t admit it to his brother, Baelor felt sorry for Ser Duncan in his current situation. He’d got under Aerion’s skin, albeit rightly so, and that meant he’d angered Maekar. He knew his brother, and even though he was an omega, he was every bit as strong as an alpha. And though he was harsh and often stern, he loved his children with all his heart. And that meant Sir Duncan had to worry not only about the mad Aerion but also his furious Muña, ready to do anything for his children. Despite this, Baelor still deluded himself that he would somehow calm Maekar down. His omega stood by the window, arms wrapped around himself, staring into the darkness of the night. Sensing the alpha’s presence in the room, he turned his head towards him.
“Valarr will take care of Daeron,” said Baelor, approaching his brother. Maekar’s whole body was stiff with tension and his face was pale with worry. “He promised he wouldn’t give him any more wine tonight and that he’d stay with him until morning.”
“Good,” said Maekar, turning back towards the window. Baelor’s subtle pheromones seemed to calm him slightly. “He must be ready for the Trial tomorrow.”
“Are you sure he should take part in this?” asked Baelor, standing just behind Maekar. He desperately wanted to put his arms around him, but was afraid of startling him.
“He claimed that brute hurt him too. He should be able to defend his honour,” replied Maekar in an indifferent tone. Baelor realised immediately that arguing with his brother was pointless at that moment. And yet he decided to try.
“It’s not too late to call it off,” said Baelor as calmly as he could. He gently placed his hand on Maekar’s shoulder, feeling the omega tense under his touch. But he didn’t pull away from him. “Aegon claims he went with that knight of his own free will. Perhaps, just this once, we should listen to him and put a stop to this before anyone gets hurt?”
“He struck my son, Baelor,” Maekar turned to face him. His jaw was clenched with nerves, and his violet eyes glowed with anger. The alpha almost flinched at the sight. His brother rarely showed such emotions towards him.
“And tomorrow he might do something even worse to him,” replied Baelor, standing his ground. “I know Aerion is stubborn, but believe me, he’ll survive if you refuse him just this once. What if he gets killed in battle?”
“Do you think my son is weak?” hissed Maekar, trying to pull away from Baelor. The Alpha moved his hand, holding him in place.
“You know very well that’s not what I meant,” said Baelor, pulling Maekar closer. They stood chest to chest, glaring at each other angrily. “I don’t want any of us to suffer, it's unnecessary.”
“Unnecessary?” Maekar laughed dryly. “Do you think my sons’ suffering is insignificant?”
“Seven above, could you stop twisting my words?” snapped Baelor, feeling frustrated by his brother’s outburst. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, don’t you understand?!”
“Do you think I can’t handle some knight?!” Maekar shouted in disbelief. “I’m not some frail omega, Baelor! For fuck’s sake, we fought side by side in a war!”
Baelor didn’t reply. He let his body take over. He pressed his lips aggressively against Maekar’s, pouring all the emotions he’d built up over the years into the kiss. The omega instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Baelor gently bit his brother’s lip, tasting his blood in the kiss. In a strange way, it satisfied him. When they finally pulled apart, he was greeted by the sight of a flushed Maekar and his lips, swollen from the kiss. His sweetling was so beautiful.
“I love you, do you understand?” whispered Baelor, his forehead brushing lightly against Maekar’s. “I love you and I can’t hide it any longer. I won’t survive if anything happens to you tomorrow.”
“You idiot,” whispered Maekar tenderly, cupping Baelor’s cheeks in his hands. “I love you too. But you know I can’t just let it go. We’ll sort this out with that errant knight, and then I promise we’ll talk about all this like adults.”
It wasn’t quite everything Baelor had hoped for. But it would have to do, at least for now.
Maekar loved him.