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Prince Baelor was hesitant to remarry. In fact, he was perfectly content to be on his own after his wife's passing. He already had an heir, there was no rush. But then your father had offered your hand and when he'd laid eyes on you he couldn't refuse.

Your inital fears had vanished soon after your wedding. He was older, yes, but he was kind. Stories of cruel kings becoming crueler husbands were common to to noble born girls. Hushed lessons taught by worried mothers in an attempt to save their daughters from a shared fate.

Your wedding day was full of nerves, stomach turning as your maid from childhood dressed you for the last time. You were conscious of each footstep down the aisle, desperately trying to make your way to the alter without fumbling on your dress or your own two feet. Everything had occurred exactly how you imagined it.

Your wedding night? That was completely different that you had been told. Your mother had sat you down the night before and told you everything to expect. She also reiterated that it would hurt, but it was important to smile while you performed your wifely duties. You were not to make too much noise, not to move unless he instructed and to be patient until it was over. Your heart hammered in your chest as Baelor undressed you,

But after your down had slipped to the floor, he'd kissed your shoulder and lain you on the bed. Your whole body stiffened as he spread your legs. But instead of the head of his….member stretching you open his fingers gently pressed into the sensitive skin of your thighs, holding you open as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive bud between your legs. You could feel his smirk against your skin as his tongue ravished your body.

When he did finally push into your entrance, you were pleasantly surprised that it actually felt good instead of the searing pain your mother described. You body was pleasantly loose from Baelor's earlier actions, which helped your body accomodate him.

And after you'd gotten a taste of this new activity, it was hard for Baelor to deny you. There was just one problem-

"Lady Dyanna," your sister in law turns to you as you call out for her. The two of you are enjoying your tea on the balcony overlooking Kings Landing, "Because of my union to Baelor we are now sisters, correct."

"Yes, princess."

"May I ask you a question then? One that may be considered too…vulgar for me to ask another," your face warms.

An amused smile unfolds on her face, "Of course, princess. Though it was a while was many moons ago, I remeber what it was like to be newly married to the son of a king. What plagues your mind?"

"When you are finshed with your relations," you look at the foor unable to meet her eye, "How are you meant to deal with the mess afterwards."

Dyanna chuckles, "A simple cloth will suffice. You may ask your maids to warm the water as well. It well help soothe the ache that sometimes occurs. Though you want to be careful not to wipe away too much or you may be preventing the future heir from settling in your womb."

"This I know," you pause, unsure of how to say your true intention, "I mean moreso - when you are walking around afterwards. How do you manage the…leaking."

The older woman tilts her head, confused, "Well I remain in bed for the rest of the night so that is not as much of an issue."

"You've never had morning relations?"

"Not never," she says, a bit nostalgic as she thinks back to her youth, "Though I can't say I recall not being able to solve that issue with a cloth before I left my chambers."

"W-well I do," you sputter, "But sometimes it's quite a lot and it's uncomfortable when I walk. Especially if we've also had relations the evening before as well-"

"Relations in the evening and the morning? I didn't realize Baelor was quite so ravenous."

"It's not always him who initiates," you murmur, stirring your spoon in your tea, "In fact it's usually not him who initiates."

Dyanna laughs, "Oh, how I miss my youth. Though, I do not blame you. They are a handsome set of brothers are they not?"

Baelor has been busy this past week. He doesn't call you into your chambers until early the next morning. He's sitting at the desk in his room when you arrive. He smiles at you when the squeak of the door on its hinges announces your prescence.

"My prince," you say in greeting.

"My love, I am sorry to wake you so early. I missed your presence while I was away," he beckons you over with one hand as he stands, silver rings glinting in the light, "Did you sleep well?"

Your body follows easily, drawn to him. You shake your head as you fall into his embrace, "My chambers are far too cold without the blood of a dragon near."

"My apologies, my princess," he chuckles tipping your head up, and gently pressing his lips to yours, "The hunt lasted longer than inteded, but I am rested now."

His hands grip your waist firmly to pull you closer before reaching back to peel you out of your night clothes. You hesitate, stepping back.

"My lord, perhaps we should wait until this evening for those activities."

"What's wrong, my love?" he frowns, emphasizing the lines between his brows that you adore.

"Nothing," you shake your head, "I may have embarassed myself during my meeting with Dyanna and I need time to heal my pride, my lord."

"What happened?"

Your face warms, "I'm not sure I should discuss these matters with you."

"I am your husband, and the prince of the realms, you can discuss anything with me, my love," he tucks a stray curl behind your ear.

You sigh, "I had a question for her about…relations and now I fear she may believe me to be too enamoured with it."

Baelor chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling you along with him.

"You are aware that Dyanna and Maekar have six children. There is nothing we are doing that they haven't done already."

"I know that," you say with a groan, buried your face in your husbands neck, "You should have seen the way she looked at me when I told her of my problem.

Your husband tilts his head, "Problem? You did not speak to me of any problems. Pray tell, I have not been hurting you have I?"

"No, no," you shake your head, reassuring him, "I have no complaints of our relations itself, husband. It's afterwards that I am sometimes I encounter a nuisance is all."

"I see," he nods, "Care to elaborate on this nuisance?"

You avert your gaze to the wall behind him, "It doesn't concern you, husband."

He smiles, "If it concerns my queen, then it concerns me."

"After we finish," you sigh, "Sometimes when I walk about the castle, I can feel you dripping down my leg. I simply asked Dyanna what she does, but it seems as though she does not have this same issue."

Your husband nods. He's had his suspicions about his condition. He may be king but he has taken part in his share of celebrations after a particularly well won tournament.More than a few of his past acquiantences have brought this very same topic to his attention before.

"My love, I believe I have a solution to your nuisance."

He stands to undo his robes. You lean back on your elbows watching his clothes fall to the floor. You bite your lip in anticipation, pulling his body on top of yours.

Your legs fall open for your husnband, your mouths moving languidly against each other as he his fingers reach the coarse hairs at the apex of your thighs. You sigh when his long fingers skim across your folds, diping into your entrance to spread your slick. He teases your sensitive bud with a light touch.

"Baelor," you whine which makes your husband smile as he kisses your neck, "Do not make me wait."

"I thought you were prepared to wait until nightfall, my love," the heel of his hand stays pushed up against that spot that drives you mad while his fingers slip inside you.

"Changed my mind," you pant, pulling him closer you you, "You would keep your wife waiting, my lord?"

"Never, my love."

Your back arches off the bed as Baelor pushes into you. He grips your leg, hooking it over his shoulder as your hips meet. His nose nuzzles along your jaw making his beard hairs tickle your neck.

"How's that feel, my love?" he murmurs planting a kiss on your collar bone.

"G-gods, Baelor," you groan, "So good."

He moves slowly, watching the way your face contorts in pleasure as he drags his cock inside you. His hand slips between your bodies to slow circles that drive make you moan.

He knows your body well, works it like like an instrument tuntil you're clawing at his back and shouting his name. He manages to stave of his own release but only for a few moments, just enough to drive into you once more filling you to the brim.

Though he tried his best, some of spend starts to leak out of you once more.

"Shh, my love," he coos, as he stands, trying to doge your attempt to keep him close, "I'm not going anywhere."

He sinks to the floor, grateful for the rug cushioning his aging knees. He wraps his arms around your legs, tugging you towards him.

"Baelor!" you gasp out, "What are you-"

"Why do you act as though I have not done this before," he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your mound, "This is my favourite place to be while unwind at the end of the day."

"But you've already...finished."

"I am quite aware, darling, worry not about me."

He spreads your legs apart, groaning at the sight of his seed leaking out of you.

"Wish you could see how we look together, my princess," he teases, leaning forward kiss your inner thigh, "Perhaps we should move the mirror to the bedroom."

He doesn't wait for your response, too entranced by the sight of you. He licks broadly, moaning at the taste your joined mess. You squirm in his arms, still sensitive from your release. He chuckles, digging his fingers into your thighs, holding you in place.

"We're divine together my love," he groans, licking at your entrance, "Want a taste?"

He meets your eye, grinning when you nod hesitantly at his words. He uses his tongue to scrape at your walls, collecting your shared juices with an obscene slurp and gently holding your ankle in the air to keep you from kicking his head.

He crawls up the bed to where you await with wide eyes, anticipating his neck move. He holds your head in place and forces your jaw open his thumb.

You don't even flinch when he spits into your mouth. You close your eyes, licking your lips with a moan when you swallow.

You're summoned into the Princes chamber later that night once more. Baelor is already in his bedclothes atop of the covers. You rush over, settling yourself on his lap.

"How was your day, my prince," you greet with a smile, running your fingers through his hair.

He preens, "Much better now that you're here, my love. How was yours?"

"Much better now that you're here," you laugh, repeating his words.

"And tell me, how was my solution to your nuisance today?" he chuckles. His hands start to lift your night dress, exposing more of your tanned skin.

"It worked," you smile, toying with the hem of his shirt, "Though I must admit I missed the reminder of you."

"Oh?" he quirks a brow, "How so?"

"I felt…" you pause, tilting your head trying to think of the right word, "empty today."

"Empty,?" Baelor repeats. You giggle, feeling the start of his interest poke you in the thigh.

You nod, "I missed the feel of my prince leaking down my leg during the day. Though I did enjoy what we did this morning-oh!"

Your yelp turns into a moan when Baelor flips you over and your back hits the mattress.

Hyacinth's steps, which started wobbly and needed the furniture for assistance just to get up, started to become confident. You walked the beaches of Dragonstone holding her tiny hand so tightly because you knew if you let go, the waves would not return her. Her babbling was inching closer to words. You know they are on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be said.

Your belly swells as the baby inside you grows. The Maester and the midwife tell you everything is going well as it should. The butterfly in your stomach that you previously felt turned into sharp kicks that sometimes kept you up at night. The nausea went away, and you had this urge to eat meat that’s well cooked but still bloody.

You write all of these changes to Baelor. Your letters to him barely have that warmth or affection, and they mostly feel cold, but he still responds to you with gentleness and tenderness.

Baelor writes to you asking about Hyancith. Your and the baby’s well-being. He and Valarr are getting back to good terms. Maekar, of all people, is asking about you. How his wound is completely healed, but he still has debilitating headaches and how some of his memories past Jena’s death are returning. You wished to be next to him, clarifying things to him.

All of his letters to you end with, “Waiting for your call, your husband Baelor.”

You wonder if you are being petty by remaining in Dragonstone. He will only come to you if you tell him to, but your stubborn mind tells you to remain put.

Hyacinth misses her father.

The baby doesn’t know what their father’s voice sounds like.

You miss your husband.

Your hand is forced when you wake up one morning with crampings and blood staining your linens. When they gave you milk of the poppy, in your dazed mind you called for Baelor. You called for your husband.

…

The letter that arrived from Dragonstone, written by the maester instead of his wife, made Baelor feel something he hadn't felt in a long while: panic.

The maester informs him that his wife woke up one morning severely bleeding. They managed to stop the bleeding, and mother and child were alright and resting. Before slumping into unconsciousness, his wife asked for him.

His wife called for him.

He shall go to her.

He doesn't inform the king, the small council or even his brother of what just happened or that he’s sailing to Dragonstone. He rushes to the harbour with a bag of gold and tells a captain he’ll give it to him if he takes him to Dragonsotne as quickly as possible. Storms or windless skies be damned!

The moment his feet land on the island, he ignores the guard that greets him and asks one simple but important question.

“Where’s my wife?”

…

The sound of your daughter gurgling wakes you up. You don’t open your eyes immediately. Your body was still under the effects of the milk of the poppy. You laid still and listen in. A nursemaid must have brought her in to make her feel at ease having you in her eyesight.

It was just a scare.

You didn't lose a lot of blood. The baby moves to prove they’re still living. The maester believes it must have been the stress that caused it and ordered you to remain in bed until the birth, which was just two moons away.

Hyacinth gurgles.

You were about to fall asleep when you heard another noise. Another voice. It was not from a nursemaid. It was from a man. It was Baelor’s voice. 

With a lot of struggle you opened your eyes. Baelor was standing near the window with Hyacinth in his arms. She was resting her body against his chest and tugging on his beard. His face was soft and he was rubbing her back. It was a sight you were familiar with.

You whispered his name so low you were not sure he even heard it over Hyancith’s babbling, but he did.

He looked in your direction, and he let out a relieved sigh. “Look! Mama’s awake!”

He walked to your bed and sat Hyacinth next to you. She crawled to you, planting herself on your chest and snuggling her face against your neck. You hugged your daughter back and kissed her head.

“Hello, my love.” You whispered.

You looked at Baelor. You wonder why he’s here. Then you remembered. You called for him. You didn’t think they actually would do it. You thought they wouldn’t understand your pleas. Your eyes tear up as you look at him.

“You came.”

“You called."

…

You are shocked when Baelor tells you he dropped everything and rushed to the island without telling the king or the small council. You assumed Baelor would’ve made plans and spoke to the council before boarding a ship. 

Maybe you shouldn't be surprised; this is the same man who entered a trial by combat wearing armour that did not belong to him and did not fit him. 

This impulsive act made by your husband made you feel warm inside and in places where you hadn't felt warm in months.

He settles quickly with you and Hyacinth.

He joins you and Hyacinth when you break fast in your bedchamber. He plays with her throughout the day.

He apologised once more about the cruel words he said. You keep a distance from him. Although you are the one that called for him, being around him made you nervous. You make small talk. You answered his questions. but you made yourself small and scarce in his presence.

He fulfilled his promise of being a father to Hyacinth. It was easy; she doesn't know the havoc her family is going through. He does his husbandly duties by making sure you’re comfortable and in good health. But for this part there’s still a long way to go forward before you fully forgive and welcome him to your presence, arms and bed.

“Father wishes good health to you and the baby.” He told you one morning when breaking fast. Hyacinth is in her high chair eating her porridge with her bare hands. Good thing her nightclothes are only changed afterwards.

He was holding scrolls that arrived from the capital after Baelor sent a raven, making them aware of where he was. “Although he wishes I had sent a warning first before making Maekar send the entire Kingsguard to search every nook and cranny of the capital.”

“That’s lovely," You said, sipping your tea. "And what does the one sent by your brother say?”

Baelor stares at his brother’s scroll with amusement. "There are a few words in here that are best not to say out loud. We have innocent ears in our presence.” He quickly glances at Hyacinth.

 “He’s mainly crossed with the fact that I left without warning. Says that I’m worse as Aegon when it comes to disappearing without consulting him.”

You chuckled, remembering that as soon as Ser Duncan went away, everybody noticed the absence of the young prince.

“He also says he wishes good recovery for you and the baby.”

You smiled. “He may not like me, but when I carried Hyacinth all of a sudden, he became curious about how I was doing. He once sent clothes that once belonged to the girls. Said a Taragryen Princess shouldn’t look… ghastly."

“Yes, Daella’s clothes.” Baelor said

He blinked and you blinked too.

He cleared his throat. “Sometimes they come and go when I least expect.” He looked at you expectantly. “I’m correct, am I?”

“Yes, yes, you are. It was Daella’s clothes.” You confirmed. “What else do you remember from that time?”

Baelor titled his head and hummed. “I remember… oranges.”

“Oranges?”

“I remember mostly the smell of oranges.”

“In the first months of the pregnancy I had this huge craving for oranges.” You explained. “It was the only thing I could eat without throwing up.”

“My mother adored oranges.” He mused. “My father planted them when she mentioned one time how much she missed them.”

Baelor looked at Hyacinth with a found look. You knew about that. The King told you when he saw you pick an orange from the tree. Hyacinth looked like Baelor, and Baelor looked like his mother. So you wonder if Baelor is seeing his mother in Hyacinth. When the King held her for the first time, you could swear a tear left his eye when he said Hyacinth looked just like the late Queen Myriah Martell.

“If it’s not…” He started but then stopped. It surprises you to see a confident man like Baelor hesitate.

“Yes?” You encouraged him.

“If it’s not too strenuous for you, I would like the chance to take a stroll on the beach with you after finishing the fast.”

“I would love to! The Maester tells me a short walk can do no harm.” You agreed. “We can go as soon as this little one is finished. One of us has to hold her hand or the waves will get her!”

“I was hoping… it could be just the two of us.”

You went still.

You haven’t been in a room alone with him since he arrived in Dragonstone. Someone was always present, whether it be Hyacinth, a servant or the maester. This will be the first time. You thought carefully. You nodded.

…

You leave your daughter in the care of the nursemaids. You and Baelor leave the castle; you hold his hand when you go down the stairs and link arms with him when you start walking down the sandy beaches. You breath in the fresh air.

“Have you thought of a name?” Baelor asked.

Your hand instinctively went to your bump. “I have looked over your family and other Valyrian names, but none of them seemed to fit.”

“When the boys came along, I spent days looking over high valyrian text trying to find that one name that fit them.”

“Only for you to end up name you first born ‘man’” You joked.

He smiled and looked at you curiously. “How did we come up with Hyacinth?”

You hummed. “You thought she was going to be a boy… I don't blame you; you had two sons, and your father had four. When she came out lacking that appendage.” You chuckled. “I’ve never seen you and the King so speechless.”

Baelor blushed. “I love her name.”

“Me too.” You agreed. “The moment you suggested it, I took one look at her, and I knew then and there it was her name.”

He looked at you, surprised. 

“What?”

“Forgive me, my lady. I assumed all this time it was you who had chosen her name. A tribute to your House.”

You sighed. “It’s alright. I wasn’t even thinking of my House when you suggested it. It’s so irrelevant that I almost forgot it was my sigil.”

Baelor’s steps started to slow. You stopped walking as well and looked at him. There was this vacant look on his face. As if he were no longer in the present.

“Husband?” You called for him.

He broke the silence, but he mostly talked to himself. “You had nothing... You had no one.”

You looked at him stunned. You knew he wasn't saying those words out of malice but still left you tense. His eyes were wide and staring up ahead. What was his mind making him remember?

“I asked you to marry me in Dragonstone.”

You felt your heartbeat speed up.

He realised his grip on you and walked forward. He halted a few paces ahead of you and stared at a hilltop. He pointed at it with a shaking finger.

“Right on that hill.” He didn’t look at you for confirmation. “You said ‘no’... You just told me to get up… you tried to pull me up… You kept arguing and arguing… You kept saying you came from nothing and that they would never accept you and I…” He laughed with mirth. “I was thinking at the time… Gods, she looks so beautiful when she argues with me! …and I refused to get up until you said yes.”

He made himself quiet again. His back was to you. You remained put; your hand was rubbing your belly to calm down the baby who was kicking hard inside you.

“You only said yes because I promised to never leave you… to never send you away. And I broke that promise!” His voice broke. “I held our daughter in my arms, and my first thought was she must have come from sin!” He spat that last word like it was a rotten fruit. “I was ready to send you away to another stranger, not caring if you would’ve been loved or taken care of…” His body shook. “I was going to take you away from her! Your whole world! Because I thought I was fixing something that was never broken in the first place!”

He sounded horrified. At his own words. His thoughts. His ideas. His choices.

“You are correct, my lady.” He said quietly. “I am a monster.”

Tears ran down your face, and you were sobbing. Your knees buckled. You wanted him to regret all of his words and actions. You wanted him to break down, but seeing it happen right in front of you, you didn't get that cathartic feeling you were expecting.

“Baelor.” You call for him.

He turns around. His eyes were bloodshot red, but he held back his tears.

“Please take me inside.” You cracked. “I don’t feel good.”

Whatever Baelor was feeling, he bottled them up and ran to you. You didn't protest when he picked you up and carried you back to the castle. You were no longer paying attention to your surroundings. You gripped his cloak tightly. You focused only on the sound of his heartbeat and his arms around you.

…

Baelor watched as the Maester examined his wife.

Every time she winced, he tensed. 

Every time she groaned, he fought to not leap from the chair.

“Everything is in order with mother and child.” The maester concluded. “Still, her ladyship should remain bedded for a few more weeks. Short walks can still happen and are recommended.” He looked at Baelor with a raised brow. “But no strenuous activities.”

He was about to ask what the Maester meant by 'strenuous activities’ but stopped when the realisation dawned on him. The tips of his ears went red, and he scratched the back of his head.

The Maester left. It was just the two of them, once again. They remained silent until it was broken by her gasp and moving around the bed. Baelor stands up and goes to her side. “My lady, should I call for the Maester again?"

“No. No.” She assured. “They’re kicking a little too hard; that’s it.”

Baelor felt a bit of relief. “Valarr and Matarys were the same. They saw their mother’s womb as a bed to jump on.”

She smiled with amusement. “All of your children are like that. Hyacinth was the same.”

“The boys would quiet down when I talked to them. Was she the same?”

“Yes.”

“Is it alright I try with the little one?” He asked almost hesitantly.

She stared at him quietly and then hummed. “I wish to sleep… go ahead.”

He hoped he didn't look too enthusiastic when he sat down next to her. He has been quietly craving to feel her belly and the child moving. Even when he carried her back inside, he made sure her hands did not touch her stomach. He raised his hand ready to touch it but stopped. He looked at his wife. “Is it alright if I touch you, my lady?”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she grabbed his hand and placed it on top of her bump. The moment his hand touched the warm and hard skin, he felt a kick. Baelor almost jumped in surprise with the sudden movement. He laughed fondly.

“They’re strong.” He says.

“They are.” She agreed.

He leaned forward and spoke to the bump. “Hello, little one.”

The baby hearing the new voice kicked once again.

Baelor chuckled. “While I do enjoy knowing you are full of energy and strength, you’ll cease using your mother as a training dummy in this instance. She needs to rest, and so do you.”

The baby stopped kicking, but they still moved around.

Baelor continued to talk. “Defiant, aren’t you? You are my fourth child after all. Perhaps you’ll be like your Uncle Maekar.”

“Don’t even!” She said in mock horror.

Baelor laughed. He continued on talking to the child, and when he looked up, he saw his wife fast asleep. He leaned forward and kissed her bump. He looked at her and kissed her forehead, carefully not to wake her up.

When they kissed on the day she left. Baelor felt like he walking into a room he never entered before but as it went on, memories started to flood in. The taste of her mouth, the feeling of her lips on his mouth and skin. He craved those lips from days on. He took in the feeling of her soft skin against his lips and the smell of citrus, sand and the ocean that clung to her skin and hair. This will do for the time being until he gains her trust.

…

She’s screaming. 

His wife is screaming.

He is sitting on a hardwood chair while listening to it.

Have they given her milk of the poppy to ease her pains?

It feels like hours have passed since the midwife told her to push.

He gets from the chair and paces the room like a caged dog.

He twists the rings on his fingers.

He rubs his face and hair every few moments.

There was a final scream. So loud. So powerful. Baelor felt a shiver run down his spine.

Then there was silence.

That is soon broken by another scream.

A wail.

Baelor forgets all the decorum, all the rules and all the protocols and bursts into the room. Maids jump at his presence. A midwife is scolding him, telling him he shouldn’t be there. He does not care. The person he was looking for was in a bed shaking, attended by the maids. He ran to it. They dispersed like a flock of pigeons.

He sat beside his wife and scooped her into his arms.

“My love.” He whispered.

She shook against his arms. Her body was drenched in sweat, and the shift clung to her skin. Her hair was moist and stuck to her face. She weakly opened her eyes and then closed them again. “Baelor?” She whispered in a hoarse voice.

“I’m right here.”

He kissed her forehead and cheeks. He praised her strength. He told her she was strong.

“The baby?” She quietly whispered.

A sense of shame filled Baelor as he realised he hadn't asked for his child’s well-being. His mind became only focused on his wife. He looked to the other side of the room. The crying he previously heard turned into soft whimpers. The infant was bundled in a white blanket and carried by a midwife.

The child was placed in his wife’s arms as the midwife said. “A healthy girl, your graces."

His wife held her closer to her chest and cried happy tears.

“Hello! Hello!” She mumbled to her child and kissed her head.

Baelor watched the baby. She was red like a tomato and had dark curly hair like his. His child. His daughter. His baby girl. In awe. 

He kissed his wife’s cheek one more time.

“They wanted a boy.” She mumbled after awhile.

Baelor looked at her confused, and then he sighed.

He pulled her closer to him and laid his hand on the squirming bundle.

“Look at me, my love.” He gently commanded.

She looked at him.

“They don’t matter. You made her. She’s ours.” He told her. “Don’t let their silly remarks ruin this for you.”

She sniffed and kissed her daughter’s head one more time. The child had become quiet in her mother’s arms.

“We don't have a name for her.” She said.

Baelor looked at his daughter closely.

With his finger he gently caressed her cheek.

“Hyacinth.”

…

You love your daughter more than anything, but by the Seven, her favouritism frustrates you sometimes.

Of course you know your daughter adores you. She smiles when she sees you, when you call her name and when you speak to her. She cuddles with you in the early hours of the morning. She falls asleep in your arms when you read to her.

But you can’t compete with Baelor.

You ‘believed’ that when you were resting from your labours, Baelor must have called on Shiera Seastar to cast a spell on Hyacinth to make her attached to him.

Her lower lip trembles when he leaves the room for longer than five minutes. She made sure to let you and her nursemaids know she was not happy with his absence.

Tonight was one of those nights. She did not want to go to bed. It took a lot of rocking back and forth and humming lullabies to get her to sleep. When you laid her in her cot, you collapsed from exhaustion on your bed.

You could’ve called him, but this was one of those moments where you didn’t want to rethink your choices. Of leaving King’s Landing and taking her with you. Hyacinth didn't know any better. She doesn't know that the man who held her didn't know who she was for a while and called her a bastard. She doesn’t know her mother is punishing him even though there’s no point in prolonging it.

You toss and turn with a lot of difficulty. Your bump being your main obstacle. You also feel cold and pull the covers around you. You’re about to fall asleep when you suddenly feel warm. As if an even thicker cover were laid on top of your body. You move closer to the source and sigh happily.

Sleep almost gets you until you feel the warmth moving. You frown and wait. A hand is placed on your bump. You don’t panic. You don’t feel fear. There’s only one person in this place who would dare to lay on your bed and touch.

“Baelor.” You whisper into the night.

The hand was about to move away, but you quickly grabbed his wrist.

You slowly turned around and faced him. You put his hand back in your bump.

“Hi.” You said.

“Hi.” He said it almost boyishly. “Did I awake you?”

You shook your head. “I was barely asleep.” You sigh. “Have you always snuck into my bed in the middle of the night? Or is this the first time?”

He smiled at you. “First time.”

“Why now?” You asked.

“I had a dream.” He answered.

You looked at him almost amused.

“My memories started coming back through my dreams.” He explained.

“What did you ‘dream’ of?”

His smile became soft, and he looked over his shoulder where Hyacinth was sleeping peacefully in her cot. “Her birth.”

“Oh.”

“You were so strong.”

“I had too. Have you seen the size of her head?”

He chuckled quietly.

“You were also worried about how the court would react… to her being a girl.”

When the midwife told you the baby was a girl, a wave of panic went through your body. While the court still didn’t accept you as one of them when your pregnancy was announced, it made you more bearable in their eyes. “Giving us a boy is the least she could do after insulting the noble ladies of Westeros.” You heard someone whisper.

You hate that you let those whispers get the best of you. That those whispers made you into a little girl who wanted to make sure everyone liked her.

“I was worried, but you didn’t let it get to me.” You said. “Do you remember her holding her for the first time?”

Once you put her in his arms, he barely let her go. You have seen Baelor’s softness before, but with Hyacinth, he became even softer. He would tenderly kiss her head. He would let her tiny grip his finger. He would ask the nursemaids what she had done throughout the day as if they were matters of the Realm. His gaze would turn into stone when someone who wasn’t a family member or a trusty nursemaid held her.

He brushed a hair strand from your face. “I remember feeling so many emotions.”

You moved closer to him, and he put his arms around you.

“She was a challenge to put to sleep. She put up a fight with me," You said. “I think she was calling for you.”

“Why didn’t you call for me?” He asked, holding no judgement or resentment, just genuine curiosity and worry.

You shrugged and then started to sob, quietly knowing your daughter was a few feet away.

“Hey! Hey!” He calmed you down. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“I didn’t call you because I still don’t know I should trust you. Because I feel small again. That if I blink, I will lose everything.” He looked at you sympathetically. “You have been nothing but kind and respectful ever since you arrived, and I put my feelings above her well-being. She called for you before and after coming to the island. She barely ate because she missed you so much. I took her greatest source of comfort away from her. Maybe I’m a monster as well.”

Baelor pulled you to his arms and rasped into your hair. “My lady, please don’t think of yourself that way ever again. You are scared and hurt mother. I'm a stupid man who didn't use his words wisely.”

You gripped his white shirt and buried your face against his chest. 

“I want us to be a family again. I want to go back home.”

Baelor kissed your head. “I will give anything you ask.”

"Promise me?”

“I promise.”

...

Your second daughter was born a fortnight later.

Baelor was with you throughout the process. He held your hand. He rubbed your back. He whispered encouragements in your ear. He let out a sigh of relief when she came out crying.

She came out with a head full of dark hair and strong lungs, very much like her sister.

And very much like her sister, it was her father who named her.

“Hello, Alyssa.” He decided while holding her and kissing her head.

On the first day of Alyssa Targaryen's life, she learnt the feeling of his strong arms holding her, and her father sang her the same lullaby her sister and brothers heard. Her father told her that she had a sister, brothers, an uncle and a grandfather who were anxious to meet her.

The nursemaid brings Hyacinth the following morning. She looks at her new baby sister who is in your arms in silence.

“This is your baby sister, Hyacinth.” You gently explained to her. “Alyssa.”

“Give your sister a kiss, my love.” Baelor softly told her.

Hyacinth kissed Alyssa’s forehead with a wet smack. Alyssa made a fussing sound in protest. Baelor watched the three of you with a tear in his eye.

For a moment everything was silent. Just the sound of your daughters gurgling and cooing. The sound of the wind and waves.

The silence is broken by a sweet and inexperienced voice. “‘lyssa.”

The voice didn't come from either you or Baelor. It came from Hyacinth.

You and Baelor stared at each other in shock.

“What was that, Hyacinth?” Baelor asked her.

Hyacinth pointed at Alysssa. “‘lyssa.” She said again.

You gasped in surprise and started laughing. Baelor laughed as well.

“Yes, that Alyssa.”

…

The road ahead is unpredictable, but Baelor will make sure it is clear enough for his wife and daughters to go through.

He made a promise, and he will be sure to not break it again.

Trials of Seven… His brother’s mace… be damned!

...

A/N: Did I manage to finish a story? I think I did!

Thank you to everybody who subscribed and read this story!

You dared to hope after learning of Hyacinth's and Baelor's encounter for the first time in months. You've also been grinning nonstop.

The nursemaids told you that Baelor held Hyacinth like he had done it a million times before, gently holding her against his chest while humming her favourite lullaby and carefully placing her in the cot as if she were the frailest thing in the Realm. For you, it was your husband and Hyacinth's father rather than the Prince of the Realm.

You stand in front of your mirror in your room wearing your flimsy nightgown. A bump is beginning to appear as you enter your third month. You can feel your baby moving at night, and when you turn to face the other side of the bed and see it empty, you feel depressed all over again. 

Baelor should be here to feel his child move in the same way as the previous ones. He should be here, speaking to your bump in a language you don't understand, picking names, and telling you how beautiful and radiant you have become while carrying his child.

You, the maester, and Maekar are the only ones who know about this child hidden beneath your heart, and you feel like you're going to burst if you keep this secret any longer.

"Do you feel safe in there, little one?" You spoke softly to your bump. "You have arrived at a very unfortunate time with what has happened to your father, but don't worry... everything will be all right in the end. If your father can cuddle your sister without remembering her, he will adore you. I have no doubt about it."

The next morning, Kiera rushed to your chambers. She told you that Baelor summoned Valarr and Maekar to the council chambers to discuss Hyacinth. You hurriedly dressed and dashed to the council room.

...

Baelor took a deep breath as he walked into the council room.

In the chambers it was him, Valarr and Maekar. Baelor needs his brother in these moments and to stop him from doing or saying something stupid.

“Brother.”

“Father.”

Valarr and Maekar said as he entered.

“Apologies for keeping you both waiting.” Baelor sat down on the chair. “I need to work out what I wished to say… especially to you, Valarr.”

Valarr raised a brow and looked at him expectantly.

“I know, Valarr…” He starts saying the words slowly. “About her.”

“Her?” Valarr asked.

“Hyacinth. I know who she is.”

Valarr’s posture eased, while Maekar’s became tensed.

“You know about the girl?” Maekar asked.

“Yes, I saw her in the nursery two nights ago. Beautiful child.”

“She is," Valarr agreed.

“I also met her mother previously."

Baelor said the name of the lady in the garden. Maekar looked down, his face blank and hard to read. Valarr looked relieved and happy. Perhaps the boy was content that he did not need to make their existence a secret anymore to his father.

“I understand why you have hidden them from me…”

“I didn't want that father.” Valarr interrupted. “I wanted to tell you about them so as not to cause more confusion and more suffering, but they told me it could cause you distress, and in your mind mother was still alive...”

“I appreciate the care you have for my health, son.” Baelor interrupted this time. “But I still find myself… disappointed.”

Maekar and Valarr shared a look.

Makear cleared his throat. “Brother, if I were in your position, I would be upset as well… to hide such an important thing from me… something that regards my children.”

“I know, brother," Baelor said. “It’s not every day your son forgets your teaching and his vows.”

Baelor looked at his son with eyes full of disappointment. 

"What is the need for drama, brother?” Maekar scoffed. “Lay off the boy; we all hid it from you. What vows were broken?

“The vows he made to Lady Kiera in front of the Gods and men.”

“Father, I don’t understand what you are…”

“Your daughter and mistress," Baelor simplified. 

Valarr looked at him with abject horror. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

“While I understand why your daughter is here, what I don’t understand is why your mistress must be here.” Baelor started. “It is a shame to your wife, to your King, to your house, to me! I don’t know what decision I made years ago when all of these came out, but Hyacinth’s mother remaining not to is not the wisest. We should find her a husband and sent her…”

Baelor couldn't finish his sentence because he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head where his wound sat. It was so painful he couldn't breathe for a second. He gasped as he cradled the back of his head and noticed a shadow over him. He looked up and saw his brother standing over him glowering at him.

“Brother…” Baelor said, astonished at the realisation Maekar slapped him in the back of the head. 

His brother, who has not left his side since they left Ashford. His brother, who would scold the maesters when Baelor hissed from the pain because of their harsh touches, has just hit him in the head, right on top of his healing wound.

“I didn't hit you that hard for you to become this stupid, Baelor!” Maekar shouted.

Baelor stood up from his chair. “Do pray tell me, brother, how have I become stupid?"

“You have got it all wrong," Maekar hissed.

Valarr finally regained his voice, and in a broken whisper he said, "Hyacinth is not my daughter, and the lady is not my mistress. She’s my dearest friend.”

Baelor frowned. If Hyacinth is not Valarr’s daughter, why is that child the spitting image of Valarr and Matarys when they were that age? Why does she look like his mother?

“Then who is she?” Baelor asked.

If this is a horrible misunderstanding, he accepts it. He has accused his son of a sin he did not commit, and he accused an innocent woman of being something she is not. He’ll work hard to earn his son’s forgiveness.

“Hyacinth is my sister," Valarr answered.

Baelor’s eyes went wide, and he gripped his chair as his balance threatened to crumble.

“And the woman is your wife," Maekar continued. “I’ll admit I never liked her, and you almost hacked at me when I disrespected her, but she is your wife.”

Baelor looked between Maekar and Valarr as another headache was erupting inside his cranium.

“I don't believe you.”

Maekar scoffed once again. “Brother, if you go down to flea bottom right now and ask any toothless illiterate rat down there who the hand’s wife is, it is not Jena’s name they’re going to say but hers.”

Baelor hid his face against his hands and groaned. Suddenly, he felt something in him that he hasn’t felt in years and that took years of discipline to control it. He felt anger. “Why was this kept away from?!”

He has a wife and a daughter, and no one told him! Where were they hiding while they walked him around the Red Keep?

He remembered Hyacinth’s red face and her anguished wails. How she refused to eat because she missed her father. She missed Baelor. How long has his child been starving herself because he was not with her? How long has she been crying herself to sleep because she did not have his lullabies to put her to sleep?

And his wife?

She told him she had no husband. Did she say that because he did not recall her? Is that why she looked so sad that night? Because he did not remember her? Because he was not with her? Seven, forgive him!

What utter nonsense just came out of his mouth!

"Where are they?!”

He did not wait for any of them to answer because he was walking to the door. He abruptly opened it and almost collided with two people. He took a step back and looked at the two people, thinking they were guards or maybe two maids who were gathering gossip, but it was not that, and Baelor felt his heart sink into the floor.

It was Lady Kiera and his wife.

Lady Kiera looked at him in horror and disgust as she held on to his wife. His wife didn't look at him. He could only see her side profile. Her shoulders trembled and tears were running down her. Tears that he caused.

“My lady…” Baelor tried to reach her.

The lady jumped back away from him and sobbed. “No! No! No! Get away from me! Get away from my daughter, you monster!”

She released herself from Kiera’s grip and walked away. Kiera followed after her. Valarr came out, looked at his father with the same disappointment Baelor had looked at him with previously, and rushed after the two women.

“You goddamn idiot.” Maekar said from inside the chamber.

Her cries echoed in the hallways.

...

What you thought was the end of a nightmare turned out to be the start for a new one.

You did not hide your tears and your sobs.

You held them back when you were sent away to another keep where they would reject you once again. You held them back when they would whisper behind your back that you were a whore that spread her legs to the Prince. You held them back when those same people looked at her with pity and prayed for a swift recovery for the prince.

They now have another reason to laugh at you.

Baelor Targaryen would rather believe that his son has forsaken his vows and sired a bastard than see you as his wife. He thought of you as the others think of you: a whore who spread her legs to garner Targaryen favour. A stain on the royal family’s reputation. He thought of Hyacinth as a bastard and not a member of his family. His first thought was to send you away. Away from…

“He wants to take her from me!” You sobbed into your pillow.

When they told you you had leave, you did with a defeated sigh because you had nothing and no one. Even if you didn't have your Baelor, you still had your Hyacinth. She was the last thing you had left.

What would Baelor do if he knew of the baby inside you? Would he tell the maester to take the infant away as soon as you had given birth? You put your hand against your belly as if they could rip your child apart from you any minute now.

"No," Valar said softly, rubbing your back. “The King is not going to let it happen. I’m not going to let it happen. I swear to you.”

Oh, Valarr! Sweet and soft Valarr, who was one of the first to welcome you when you married his father. How could Baelor think that his son would hurt his wife like that?

You hated him! You hated Baelor! You want him away from you!

You took a deep breath and sat on your bed. Kiera whipped away your tears gently.

The maids come and go inside your chambers, all of them looking at you with pity. Sooner or later the whole Keep will learn that Baelor Targaryen thinks his wife is a mistress and the princess a bastard.

You could no longer stay here.

“Valarr…” You called for your stepson with a hoarse voice. “Can you please get me a meeting with the King? I need to speak with him urgently.”

...

For the first time in his life, Baelor was lost.

This is something he cannot fix with diplomacy.

He has accused his wife of something she was not. 

He has hurt her tremendously.

He has called his own child a bastard when she was made from a lawful union.

He tried to remember them.

He tried to make his mind remember his wife and daughter.

Does he even have the right to call them? After he disowned them so quickly.

Baelor looked over the letters between him and his wife. All the correspondence was hidden from him before returning to the capital. Maekar gave it to him. His brother looked regretful, a rare sight. He tells Baelor they all hid because they didn't want to make his condition worse. Baelor preferred to have had his health go worse than to do what he just did. He looked at the last letter he sent his wife before the trial happened. He promised to return to her. Her faithful husband returned to her as a cruel man.

He organised his letter from oldest to newest. He read them throughout the whole night. His wife had beautiful handwriting, and she explained things perfectly. She talks of their daughter and how her health is faring and what milestones she has reached. She speaks of his sons with the warmth of a mother. She speaks of household management like a seasoned lord.

When reading his own handwriting, Baelor can barely recognise himself. These are words that he would certainly use, but what he doesn't recognise is their content.

He sounds like a man madly in love. Every word is about his yearning for his wife, thinking of his wife and wishing to be beside her all the time. There were letters in which he wrote things he would never think he would write. Sentences that would even make the madames of the silk street blush.

He reads the letter that was written around the time Hyacinth was born. He writes about his daughter with so much love. He writes about his worry regarding his wife’s recovery. He never thought of having another wife. He never thought of having children again. Valarr and Matarys had been enough.

The sun lightens his study. It’s morning already.

Baelor decides to go to the nursery.

...

As Baelor walks to the nursery, he realises now why hyacinths have become such an important symbol in his life. He understands now why he had that handkerchief embroidered with the flower. He understands now why every time he goes to his study there’s a fresh pot of them in his study every day. He understands now why there’s a whole section of the garden full of them.

It was his wife’s house sigil.

There was not much about his wife’s house that he could find in the lineage books. The only notable members were a knight that various tournaments and she, a future queen. Naming a royal Princess after the sigil of her house was the closest thing his wife could do to honour her house.

Baelor was about to enter the nursery when the guard stationed next to the door stepped in front of him. He was surprised but quickly recovered.

“Ser Hobart, please step aside.” He ordered with a firm tone.

“I cannot, your grace.” The guard stated. “I have express orders to not let you in.”

Baelor sighed.

He cannot blame her for doing that, but he just needs to see the baby for one minute.

“Ser, I urge you to step aside," Baelor ordered again. “I respect you for complying with my wife’s wishes, but I will not be barred from seeing Princess Hyacinth.”

“It was not your wife who gave the order, my lord hand.”

Before Baelor could ask who gave the order, the door opened, and a new and even firmer voice joined the conversation.

“So our Lord Hand finally remembers his wife and child! Such a shame it happened after he made a complete fool of himself, accused his son of something he didn’t do and humiliated his wife.”

Baelor bowed his head. “Father.” He tried to peek inside the nursery, and he could see Hyacinth sitting on the rugs playing with her mother. The door closed just as Hyacinth looked over her shoulder and smiled when she saw him. He could hear her babbling from behind the door.

“Don’t call me that right now. I’m cross with you!” 

The king walked ahead. Baelor looked between him and the door of the nursery. Hyacinth was starting to sob. Baelor decided to follow the King.

“Your grace.” Baelor started as he reached his side. “What I have said was utter nonsense! A conclusion that I have shouldve thought of better…”

The King raised his hand, and Baelor stopped talking. He waited for the King to speak, but he remained silent as they walked through the corridors. They entered the garden where Baelor had met his wife for ‘the first time'.

The King stopped in front of a purple hyacinth. He gently caressed the petals.

“For years the council and I tried to find you a wife after Jena’s death.” The King started. “We brought forward every Lady of the Realm suitable for a Prince and you rejected every one of them. ‘I have two healthy sons, my king,' you said. ‘I have no need for another wife.’ That was the end of the discussion.”

The King sat on the bench. Baelor stayed still, listening to his father.

“Years pass and suddenly you are… distracted. You arrived late to meetings, and even when you arrived early, you always seemed unfocused. Every time I asked what was on your mind, you always told me it was nothing.” The King chuckled. “Nothing turned out to be a lady with no parents, an unremarkable house and barely a coin in her name. And you came to me asking my blessing to wed her. I thought you had gone mad!”

Baelor twirled the ring on his finger.

“I said no. It was too risky, and the Lords would never approve a low-born lady as their queen. But you fought me… Gods, you fought me. There’s a reason why your brothers always sent you first to negotiate for something as simple as getting a kitten. I objected to it. You fought it. I objected again. You fought me again. I relented and gave you my blessing. You came back a fortnight later with a bride who could barely look me in the eye. You have your mother’s Dornish stubbornness. Thank the gods she’s not alive to see these.”

Baelor lowered his head in shame.

“All though… I wished she were alive to see you after you wedded her.” The King, his tone now sombre. “You smiled more. You weren't always locked in your study. You looked at ease. When Hyacinth was born, this place finally felt like a home once again.”

The King pauses as he thinks of his next words.

“I was a young man when my own father started to cast doubts about my parentage. Hyacinth is oblivious, but she’ll grow up and she’ll hear them. Even though there’s no doubt in who her father is. There are still going to be those fools who’ll believe otherwise.”

Baelor closes his eyes. Shames runs through his body. He remembers his grandfather’s horrendous remarks towards his father. He remembers how his father always kept his head high. His grandfather was a cruel man, and he has just become like him.

“Father… Your grace…” Baelor breathed out and dropped to his knees. “Please forgive me for my foolish words and assumptions. It was never my intention to hurt any of you.”

“Stand up, son.” The King said. “It is not my forgiveness you should ask for. It’s your wife's, and I don’t think you are going to get it sooner.”

“I will still fight for it nonetheless!”

“Go ahead but be patient.” The King advised. “If she doesn’t want you near her… If she doesn't want you near the child, respect that, even if that hurts your soul.”

“Of course,” Baelor accepted. “Thank you, your grace.” He bowed his head and turned to leave.

"Baelor," The King called. “There’s another thing.”

Baelor looked at his father.

“She’s with child and she wishes to take sanctuary in Dragonstone.”

It felt like an invisible mace struck Baelor all over again.

...

You looked all over your belongings.

Years ago it was just two ugly gowns and a pair of shoes.

Now it was various gowns of various colours and fabrics, a multitude of shoes and jewellery that could feed a poor family for a year or two. Of course you are not going to bring everything to Dragonstone, only the essentials. You already packed Hyacinth’s belongings, and the boat was waiting for you two.

A maid comes in with her eyes uncertain just as you are folding a gown. “My lady.” She mumbled. “The Lord Hand is outside requesting your permission to come in.”

Your hands stilled.

Honestly, you felt like a coward running away from the capital, but for the first time in your life, you had control over where you wanted to go.

“Let him in and prepare Hyacinth," You said. “Girls, leave. I need to speak with the hand.”

Your back was turned as you continued folding your gowns. All the maids left, and he comes in but doesn't say anything. You both remained quiet as you continued to fold your gowns, but this quiet soon became too stifling. Out of frustration you threw a gown to the floor.

You turned around and looked at him.

He looked at you with a blank expression.

He hasn't said anything yet. He was letting you have the first word, so you broke the silence.

“You were the first and only.”

Baelor looked at you confused. “Pardon me, my lady.”

“I was a virgin when I came to the capital and remained so until my wedding night… our wedding night.” You explained.

“My lady…” He started.

You laugh cruelly. “I didn’t even want to marry you! I was just happy that I had someone looking at me. I was just happy someone like you found me interesting that you wanted my company. I wasn't looking for a husband. I would’ve lived happily just being your friend.”

Baelor looked at you almost heartbroken, but you did not care. He broke you first.

“I didn’t marry because I wanted to be Queen or have all the riches of the world. I married you because you promised me you would never leave my side. Because you said you love me. Because I lo…” Your voice broke. “Because I loved you, and I love you still even after you said those horrendous things.”

You turned around, not wanting to cry in front of him. You are so sick of crying. He did not say anything. You were wiping away a tear when you heard a rushing movement behind you and something dropping to the floor. Before you could see what fell, hands grip your waist and turn you around. A face wedged deep into your stomach.

Baelor sobbed your name

“Please! Please forgive me!” His tears soaked your dress. “I am a foolish man! A stupid man, but I’ll be better! I’ll be your husband! I’ll be Hyancinth’s father! I’ll love you again!”

You stare at him shocked. You never once saw Baelor cry. He was a steel wall that would never break. Now. In front of you he was crumbling like a sand castle. You became the steel wall in an instant.

“Your grace, get up… You are embarrassing yourself.” You calmly said.

Baelor doesn’t get up. His grips get tighter. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up. He got up but did not pull away. His hands remained on your waist. He’s taller than you, but he’s hunched over in a way that makes sure he doesn't tower over you. He laid his forehead against yours. His beautiful mismatched eyes were red-rimmed as he stared at you.

“I have to leave," You whispered. “The ship is waiting. I have to get Hyacinth.”

Baelor shook his head. “No.”

“I just want space...” You whispered, tears running down your cheeks. Baelor lifts his hand and places it on your cheek. Your body trembles as he gently wipes away a tear. You take a deep breath. “You don’t understand now… but for the first time in my life I’m choosing where to go.”

Baelor moved the hand that was on your waist to your belly, to your bump. He touched it the same way when you carried Hyacinth. You chuckle a bit; the King must have told him.

He opens his mouth and you expect him to plead once again for you to remain. “Write to me.”

You blinked at him.

“They don’t need to be long letters… I just need to know you are alright… that she’s alright… our baby is alright…”

“I will.” You promised.

He sighed in relief.

“Please forgive me, my love.” He said it one more time.

You closed your eyes. Your hands that have stayed on his shoulders move. They carefully go to the back of his head and lay on his wound. That goddamn wound that turned your world upside down. You lift your head, gently nudging your nose against his. You pressed your body closer to his and placed your lips against his. His body shuddered but he kissed you back nonetheless. You could taste your tears in the kiss.

The kiss started gently, but it soon grew into that roughness you recognised. Baelor pulled you even closer to him. You let yourself get lost in the kiss. You could pretend that everything was normal, just for today, but it has to come to an end.

You are the first to pull away. Baelor tried to chase your lips, but you grabbed his face and pulled him away.

“Let me go first."

And he let you go.

...

A/N: Oh Baelor, Baelor, Baelor... You fucked up big time, buddy!

My dearest Prince,

It has been two days since you departed, and in those two days our Princess Hyacith has let the whole keep know her displeasure at the fact you are not there to sing her lullabies and tuck her in for her nap. Her sweet little face goes red from how much she cries, and her gaze is fixed on the door, waiting for your arrival.

Do not worry; she does not cry all the time. She enjoys the company of her big brother, who takes her out to the gardens to play, and her Grandsire, who purposely skips meetings with the small council and goes straight to the nursery. Your father tried to sing the same high valyrian lullabies you sang her, but she does not find the King’s singing abilities enjoyable and fusses when he starts a song. I’ve managed to make her fall asleep by wrapping your shirts around her.

Our little girl is not the only one who misses you.

I just don’t have the luxury of screaming about it like Hyacith.

I miss you so much, my love.

I wake up, and the first thing i do is reach for you, and I get confused when i only feel the cold and unmade sheets. Your pillow is slowly losing your scent.

Come back to me as soon as you can. Give my love to Valarr, Kiera, Maekar and his boys.

Your loving wife.

...

My Darling Wife

Every day away from you and our children is torture if I dare be dramatic.

It breaks my heart to know how distressed our little princess is. 

My poor little hyacinth, too small to understand the world but wise enough to know when something is missing.

The same way she looks at the door, waiting for my arrival, I find myself humming her favourite lullaby when deep in thought, thinking that her cradle is next to me and i’m lulling her to sleep. You have to forgive me, my lady, but before I left I stole your handkerchief, the one with hyacinths embroidered on it. It carries your scent, my love, and unfortunately, just like my pillow, yours is slowly fading away.

I too reach for your warmth when I wake up first thing in the morning, but I only have a cold side of the bed and the sounds of horses and garrisons as the reminder of the miles between us. Don’t count the days until you see me again, my love. I’ll be there before you realise it.

Your faithful husband, Baelor.

...

When the letters and trinkets stopped arriving, you did not get worried.

Your Baelor is a busy man. He could be far away from his study in the Red Keep, but he’ll still find a way to bury himself in matters of the realm. In the meantime, you spent your days taking care of your daughter, overseeing your stepson studying and looking after household matters.

The horrible news arrives when you are strolling through the gardens with the King. Ever since you married Baelor, you’ve become quite close to the King, a daughter he never had. A guard runs to the gardens, shouting for the King.

The Guard stopped in front of them, sweating and breathing rapidly.

“We have received a letter from Prince Maekar bearing urgent news…”

You did not know what to expect. A Blackfyre conspiracy. How you wished that were the cause. The Guard hands over Maekar’s letter, and the King quickly reads it over. He would’ve collapsed to the ground if he had not grabbed hold of you. You caught him and let him support your body against yours.

“Your grace!” You shouted.

The king was pallid, and his gaze was blank. He called your name and told you to get Mtarys. It was about his father. It was about Baelor. You guided the King to the guard and ran as fast as you could to the training yard where Matarys was.

When you find your stepson, you bring him to the gardens where the King remained. The King is sitting on the bench, crumpling the letter that had caused so much distress.

The King looks at Matarys with solemn eyes. He stands up. “My boy, before you panic, I need you to know your father is alright. He has been injured.” Yours and Matarys’ breaths hitched. “But he is alright. Your Uncle Maekar has assured me, and they are coming back.”

The King tells you, and Matarys tells you, that Baelor got injured after joining the side of a Hedge Knight during a trial of seven. Baelor fought bravely. Baelor was struck by his own brother's mace. Baelor lay asleep for two weeks with Maesters who did not know if he would live or die.

The Gods smiled at Baelor.

He woke up.

The King looked at you as he continued speaking. “The Maesters say a lot of things can happen to a man when he's struck hard in the head. Baelor woke up asking for Jena.”

...

Baelor arrives inside a wheelhouse, a contrast to the way he departed a month and a half ago.

A month and a half ago, he stood in the Keep’s entrance bidding his goodbye to you, Hyacinth and Matarys. He ruffled Matarys’ hair and told him to behave. He gave Hyacinth a cuddle and kissed her cheeks. He puts your daughter back into your arms and kisses you gently. You still remember how much his gaze was full of love and adoration towards you, towards his family.

As he rode his horse out of the gates, he looked over his shoulder where you still remained with Hyacith in your arms and Matarys by your side. You grabbed Hyacith’s arm and waved at him. He smiled and waved back.

Baelor Breakspear returned to the capital a different man. Well, not different. He returns as a man he hasn't been in years. He returns as Prince Baelor, husband of Lady Jena Dondarrion and father of Prince Valarr and Prince Matarys. You and your daughter may as well not exist.

You met Baelor one year after Lady Jena’s death. Baelor didn't intend to have a second wife, and you didn't intend to fall in love with him. You’re an orphan who comes from a House whose sigil and motto nobody could tell even if their lives depended on it. Only Baelor could answer it. 

When he asked your house name, you felt embarrassed because you stood in front of the greatest man in the Realm, and you come from nothing extraordinary. You mumbled your full name, and without wasting a beat, he asked if you were related to a knight. You recognised the knight he named, your great-grand sire. You were shocked that he would remember such a thing. He wasn't a remarkable knight; he just had few tournament wins under his name, and that was it. 

On that day you felt seen, and that was the start of everything.

It wasn’t a hot, passionate love affair.

It was built slowly over the years like a well-tended fire.

You were Lady Kiera’s lady-in-waiting.

You didn’t see Baelor every day. 

You were busy attending the Young Prince’s wife. 

He was busy being the Hand.

When you crossed paths, you would bow to him, and he would nod at you.

It was a practice dance between the two of you, but as time went on, the dance started to shift patterns, like the invisible minstrels had changed the tune of their instruments. 

When you and Baelor crossed paths, you both slowed your paces as if to make the moment last longer. You would hold eye contact longer than it is appropriate for either of your statuses. You would walk forward, and when looking over your shoulder, he would be staring right back at you. It was you who made the audacious step of turning this dance into something more.

“It’s just a beautiful day today.” You said.

He almost looked stunned by your comment, but he then smiled and agreed with you. Then Baelor did his own audacious step; he asked if you wanted to take a stroll with him in the gardens. You accepted.

The wheelhouse stops in front of the awaiting group. Prince Maekar, who was riding his horse alongside, quickly jumped off the animal before a stable boy even arrived. He rushed to the Wheelhouse and opened its door. Lady Kiera is the first to come off and then Prince Valarr. The Young Prince lifts his hand to the inside, and a big but thin hand grabs it. Maekar approaches and lets the last person inside lean on his body.

The sight in front of you almost makes you want to faint, and Matarys grabbed your hand.

Baelor looked too thin and frail. His clothes looked baggy, and his face was sunken. His head was bandaged, and you could see a faint spot of red.

The King is the one to go to him first.

Baelor tries to stand straight in front of his father and king.

“My King,” He mumbled as if speaking was the hardest task he could perform. “Please give me time to recover and I shall attend to my duties…”

The King didn't let him finish. He walked to Baelor and pulled him into his arms.

Daeron Targaryen stripped his title and crown and held his firstborn, whom he almost lost. Baelor wrapped his arm around his father and rested his head against his shoulder. Maekar, who was holding Baelor upright, looked down in shame and was about to step away when Daeron grabbed him and brought him to his hold as well.

It was a heartbreaking sight.

“Matarys.” You called for your stepson lightly. “Go to your father.”

Matarys reluctantly lets go of your hand.

He approached shyly and stopped behind the King.

“Father.” He called out.

Baelor lifted his head and fixed his gaze at his youngest son.

Baelor’s mismatched eyes studied the boy in front of him; they go wide when it dawns on him who the boy is. Matarys was only eight years old when Jena died. He was now twelve. He carefully frees himself from his father's and brother’s grip, and with uncoordinated steps, he moves forward.

Baelor takes another step forward and loses his balance, dropping to his knees right in front of Matarys. Maekar rushes to his brother’s side. He was about to lift him, but Baelor raised his hand. He grabbed his youngest son and pulled him to his arms just like his father did a few moments ago. Matarys broke down and cried in his father’s arms.

"Shh...shh," He hummened. “When did you get so big, my boy?” Baelor asked as he patted his son’s arms and back.

A tear slips down your face, and you quickly wipe it away. It gave you hope. If he remembered his son with one glance. He may remember you as well.

The Maesters start to surround Baelor, ready to see the extent of his wound and see how truly bad it is. Baelor reluctantly lets go of Matarys and allows Maekar to get him up from the ground and escort him inside.

They walk to the entrance where you stood. Your body goes rigid. Should you call for him? Should you hold his arm? Should you introduce yourself?

You looked directly at Baelor, and he looked back at you.

You waited for that glimpse of recognition, but it did not arrive.

Baelor politely nodded at you. “My lady.”

You stayed there astonished.

You could almost laugh. That’s Baelor, alright. The man could have a limb hanging by a thread, but he would still slow down and greet the person in front of him just because he couldn't forget his good manners.

Maekar didn't look at you. His gaze was forward.

Coward! You think bitterly. Your brother would've looked me in the eyes!

Kiera walks to you and hugs you. You break down in her arms.

...

Maesters surrounded him and prodded his head.

They gave him Milk of the poppy, which made his senses go dull. He was in and out of consciousness. There was so much he wanted to ask and do. How was the realm? How were his sons? How was his father’s health? Where was Jena buried?

The maesters disperse, and he’s no longer being touched. His eyes were closed, but he could hear everything around him. He could hear them whispering among themselves about the side effects of his wound and how they could bring back some of his memories without causing emotional and mental distress.

He hears light footsteps coming inside the chamber.

“He just fell asleep.” He hears Maekar say. “You shouldn't be here.” His brother doesn't say it with a malicious tone, but Baelor nonetheless wishes to scold his brother. This person was a guest, a friend of his who wanted to check on his well-being.

He tried to open his eyes, but his lids were heavy. 

The person doesn't respond to Maekar, nor do they obey him. In fact, they step closer to Baelor. Now Baelor wished he could see who this person was that was so bold to defy his brother.

The steps are light. A Lady, perhaps?

The bed dips as someone sits beside him. and his hand is held. It was a lady indeed. The hand was soft and warm. A contrast to his rough and cold skin. The lady rubs his hand delicately, warming him up. 

The lady remains silent, but he could hear her sniff and a hitch in her breath as she held back a sob. He wanted to tell the lady to not waste tears on a fool like him. He tried to squeeze her hand, but his fingers still felt like wood.

No one speaks.

He could feel her gaze on him. Her hand grazed his knuckles slowly.

Another sound of footsteps appears along with the sound of clanking. A guard.

“My lady?” He calls.

The lady speaks for the first time. “Yes?”

Her voice is soft and gentle, just like her touch.

“Prince Valarr requests your presence.”

The lady pauses in her gestures, and Baelor mourns her touch. She sighs and carefully lays Baelor’s hand on the wool blanket.

He waits for her to get up and leave. She moves not away from him but towards him. She leans in, and Baelor could smell citrus fruits and oranges – a far cry from the medicine and incense that surround him. She presses her lips against his temple, and Baelor feels his heart skip a beat.

She gets up and starts to walk away, but Baelor wanted her to stay. He moved his head, and finally he managed to open his eyes, but his vision was blurry. He could only see the tail end of the Lady’s blue gown.

The Maester suggests you and Hyacith keep a respectful distance from Baelor so as not to create more mental distress for him.

...

You are to be a stranger to your own husband.

Who are you now?

You have no idea.

Are you still a wife even if your husband doesn't remember you?

Is your daughter a princess even if her father doesn't remember her conception?

You lie on your bed. The same bed you shared with your husband a few months ago with your daughter sleeping peacefully right beside you. You envy her. She doesn't know one of her favourite people in the world doesn't recall her existence. He doesn’t remember her laugh, her smile, how much he prayed for her and the love that he had for her. He doesn't remember how happy he was when she was born. A man who thought he would never hold another small child of his blood, especially a daughter.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I never thought I would feel so much love for a woman until you presented this blessing to my life.” He told you when he held her for the first time.

She doesn't know her father doesn't remember her mother.

He doesn’t remember the days where polite conversations turn into something deeper and meaningful. The days when you sought each other's eyes from across the room. The day he asked you to be his wife. The day you made oaths to one another in front of the Gods and men. The days of getting to know each other's bodies.

Baelor lies on a bed, not knowing on the other side of the Keep there are two people who have become important to him. He doesn't know there’s a possibility you carry his fourth child.

You haven't told anyone. You haven't sought a maester or midwife to confirm it, but you knew. You knew your body. The lack of blood wasn't your only clue. Your breasts were tender, and when Hyacith would squeal, screech or whimper, you would feel a tug on them. You felt nauseous. You craved oranges, the same cravings you had in your first pregnancy. You wanted to tell Baelor in your letters but decided you wanted to surprise him. You regret that choice now.

If you had told him your suspicions, would he have still joined the fight? Maybe he still would. He joined a fight knowing he had two small children waiting for him, and he still went ahead.

Seven! How you wished to whack him on the head as well!

...

“And this is Aemon the Dragonknight! My great-great-uncle! My brother was named after him. When Queen Naerys, my great-grandmother, was accused of adultery, he demanded her accuser fight him in a trial by combat and won!”

“Oh…”

You smiled as you watched Aegon escort the Hedge Knight around the Keep, and you smiled at the Hedge Knight, who was amazed at everything around him.

Hyacinth’s shrieks announce your presence in the corridor.

Aegon turned around and smiled when he spotted you and his cousin.

“Auntie!” He ran towards you.

The Hedge Knight lowered his gaze as he followed his young squire.

“Hello, Hyacinth!” He greeted her, grabbing her little hand.

“Hello, Egg.” You greeted him in return and looked at the Tall knight in front of you. “Will you introduce me to your friend?”

Egg smiled. “Aunt, this is Ser Duncan the Tall.”

The Knight stood straighter when you gazed at him, and his cheeks turned red.

“My lady.” He respectfully bowed his head.

“Ser Duncan the Tall this is my cousin, Princess Hyacith of House Targaryen and my aunt…”

Ser Duncan the Tall’s eyes go wider when Egg tells your name and your relationship to the royal. He began to speak, but his words were incoherent, and they did not make any sense. Then he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“My lady… Please forgive me for all that has happened!” He started rambling. “It was never my intention to drag the Hand into this mess! It was never my intention to cause this much harm to your family!”

“And what was your intention, Ser Duncan?” You asked.

Ser duncan lifts his head and looks with his sincere blue eyes. “To protect the innocent, my lady. As every knight should.”

You sighed.

“Egg.” You said. “Would you and Ser Duncan like to take a stroll with Hyacith and me?"

Aegon and Hyacith walk ahead of you and Ser Duncan.

Aegon holds Hyacinth's hands and teaches her how to walk.

“Another foot forward... another foot forward.”

Ser Duncan breaks the silence. “She looks like him.”

You nodded. “She does.” You nodded. “I was in labour two nights and one day, and she came out the spitting image of her father and brother.”

Ser Duncan smiled.

“And she has the audacity to prefer her father over me. The one who gave her life and fed from my very own breast.”

Ser Duncan let himself chuckle.

"Have you talked to him?” You ask, not needing to clarify who.

“I have, m’lady.” He answers. “His grace recovers well and has been able to walk well with the assistance of a cane.”

“Does he remember you?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But he does tell me that he would gladly let me join his kingsguard and serve him.”

“Do you plan on accepting it?”

“I’ll be honest with you, my lady. I don't know..." He continues. “I am grateful for the offer. It is something a Hedge Knight strives for his whole life but…”

“But?” You encouraged him.

“I don't feel ready to give up that life yet. Especially with Egg as my squire.” He explains. “He’s a good lad. A pain in my side… but a good lad. He could do so much better outside of places like these.”

You nodded. “I think you’re correct, Ser Duncan.”

“Your husband said the same thing. Even told Prince Maekar that he should reconsider it.”

That makes you pause. 

Your husband. 

Nobody has said that since Baelor’s return. As if the reminder were a dirty memory that shouldn't be evoked. As if that would cause him to break into pieces.

“I know it’s not the same, but I have lived that ‘Hedge Knight’ life before.” You told him. “I came from a House that wasn't worthy enough to be remembered in the lineage books. I couldn’t tell people which side they fought during the Dance of Dragons or the Blackfyre rebellion. My parents died when I was young, and I have been shipped off to every corner of the realm to various relatives. I learnt rather quickly to never get used to any keep I arrived at because I would be sent away before I could learn the names of the servants. I arrived in King’s Landing with one last favour and two ugly gowns in my name.”

Ser Duncan listened to you attentively.

“I don't know what you heard of me, Ser, but there are those who think I slithered my way into Baelor’s bed and seduced him into marrying me.”

Ser Duncan shook his head and stammered an apology and told you he would never believe such tales regarding your honour.

You laughed.

“Oh… How I wish I could tell these noblemen it was the other way around. He seduced me! I didn’t realise he actually wanted me for a wife until he took me to Dragonstone and knelt before me. A Prince knelt before me and asked me to be his wife! Do you know what I said?”

Ser Duncan blinked. “Yes?”

“Your Grace, get up! You are embarrassing yourself!” You said using the same shrieking voice you did years ago. “And he did not get up. He told me he would stay like that until I said yes. And I just… kept denying him! I tried to get him up from the ground, but he would not budge.”

You smile as you remember that day.

“No matter what objections I threw at him, he would fight back. ‘The King would never approve,' I said. 'The King already knows and has given us his blessing,' he said. ‘Your sons would not want a replacement for their mother,' I argued. ‘My son helped me choose the ring,' he argued back. ‘The court would never accept me,' I tried once again to bring him to reason. ‘The court would have to fight me if they disapprove of our union,' he said, still kneeling on the ground and holding the ring.”

“What made you say ‘yes’?”

You twisted your engagement ring. “I made him promise to never leave my side and ship me off to whatever corner of this realm. If he promises me that I will say ‘yes’.”

You wish to cry, but you will not cry. Not when it’s such a beautiful day.

“He will remember you, my lady. I am sure of it!” Ser Duncan reassured you.

“I hope so, Ser," You say. “Because who am I without my Baelor? I came from nothing and belonged to nothing, but Baelor never let me feel like I didn’t belong next to him. " You look at your daughter. “At least for my daughter’s sake, the Gods will guide him back to us.”

Hyacinth guided her cousin to you and Ser Duncan. She stopped in front of the tall knight and looked at him like she was studying him. She is definitely her father’s daughter. She pulled her hand from Aegon and grabbed Ser Duncan’s leg pant. Ser Duncan stood still like a statue, and he had a look of sheer panic on his face, as if it were a dangerous animal clinging to him and not a small child.

Hyacinth made a squealing noise and tried to climb Ser Duncan’s leg.

“It seems like the Princess wishes to know how you view the world, Ser Duncan.” You said humourously.

“You should do as your Princess asks, Ser," Aegon said, sharing your amusement. 

Ser Duncan took a deep breath, rubbed his palms against his pants, crouched down and lifted the princess. He held her at arm's length away from his body. His breath hitched when Hyacith let out a screech.

“She prefers being held closer, Ser Duncan.” You gently pushed your daughter into Ser Duncan’s chest, and you could've sworn he stopped breathing.

Ser Duncan looked at Hyacith, who was looking back at him, and cleared his throat. “hum.. Evening, Princess.”

The little girl babbled in response.

You smiled, but you couldn't help the feeling like someone was staring at you. You turned around and saw a person retreating, but you could recognise that silver head from anywhere.

“Ser Duncan, Egg. I will be right back.” You said, not giving time to hear their answers as you went inside.

You catch Maekar just as he is going up the stairs.

“How is it that a Hedge Knight and your nine-year-old son have more guts to look me in the eyes than you, brother?” You asked, saying the last part rather sarcastically.

Maekar goes stiff and turns around, staring at you with a scowl. Years ago that look frightened you, but now it held no power over you.

“I would like to remind you, girl.” He hissed. “That you are speaking to a Prince of the Realm.”

“And I would like to remind you, your grace.” You said with your chin high. “That I’m still Princess of Dragonstone and your future Queen even if your brother doesn't remember me. I’m still a member of this family until the King says otherwise."

Maekar has never been warm with you. He’s only polite because you are his brother’s wife. Because the King likes you. He shares the same opinion the court has towards you: too unfit and unworthy to be the heir’s wife.

Maekar huffs and goes down the stairs. “You left your daughter with that oaf?”

“Ser Duncan is a good man. My husband saw that, so I trust him, and besides, he’s with your son, and you let him be your squire.”

“You trust him after he caused all of this.”

“Yes.” You said, feeling ready to defend Ser Duncan’s honour. “After all, it was not him who called for a trial of Seven. It was not him who swung the mace.”

Something flickered in Maekar’s eyes. Hurt? You did not know and you did not care. Baelor remembers him, and Maekar gets to see him every day. You haven't been able to talk to your husband and could only rely on the accounts from your stepsons, Kiera and the maesters about his well-being.

“If I could undo what happen…” He started.

“Spare me your sorrows, Maekar," You cut in. “I will only forgive when he remembers me. When my daughter stops crying herself to sleep because she heard her father’s voice and he did not come to her. When the baby inside of me…” You stopped when Maekar’s eyes went wide and he looked at your belly.

You turned around and walked away from him.

You owed him no explanation.

You owed him nothing.

You come back to Ser Duncan, still holding Hyacinth and asking Egg if she’s still breathing because she has gone quiet. Hyacinth was happily sucking on her fist.

...

Baelor doesn't like to be idle. He doesn't like to remain still. He also doesn't like to be coddled. He understands an injury like this needs to be taken care of properly, but he feels like he’s going to forget all his manners if another person asks if he’s alright.

It’s nighttime, and half of the Keep is asleep. Usually at this hour Baelor would be hunched over his desk and looking over his ledgers, but he’s not doing anything, and he hates that. He has probably counted every stitch and every flower in the canopy above him.

The wound has healed well, and he no longer needs bandages. He still gets headaches and has a persistent itch on his wound.

He lets out grunts when he sits on the bed. With deep breaths he grabs his cane and gets up from the bed. He walks out, ignoring the guard stationed at his door.

“A small walk, Ser.” He said, waving his hand when the knight started walking behind him. “I will be back before you know it.”

Baelor wished to know how much had changed in four years, and the cloak of the knight was perfect for it. There were no Lords and Ladies asking for his well-being and saying he’s in their prayers. It’s more quiet. 

He heard a babe the other day when he was strolling through the garden with Valarr. That was odd; there weren’t a lot of babies in the Keep. The noble ladies usually leave them with nursemaids in their husbands' castles. He didn’t get to see the babe, but he did hear the poor thing cry.

Not much has changed; the walls and the banners were the same, but the gardens looked different. There was a section that was full of hyacinths of various colours and an orange tree. It was beautiful and well taken care of. He wonders whose idea was it to plant them. There was also a bench in there; maybe he should sit there and rest for a bit.

When he arrives at the garden and hears a woman humming. He wonders if his brother’s hit was strong enough to make him see the ghosts of the keep.

 He rounds the corner, and he sees a Lady sitting on the bench. He doesn't recognise her. She’s quite pretty. Her expression was calm and serene. In her hands was a handkerchief with peeled orange slices. The moon shone on her beautifully. He tried to look for clues of her house with her clothes, but she wore a plain white nightgown and a dark robe.

Why is there Lady alone in the gardens in the middle of the night? He wondered.

Should he join her? Or should he let her be in her own peace?

Before he could decide, a wave of nausea hit him, making his body brush against the leaves of the bushes.

The lady stopped humming.

...

"Who's there?!” You shouted when you heard something rustling in the bushes and the sound of a man groaning. “Show yourself before I scream for the guards!”

You get up from the bench and try to see between the gaps who this person is.

You hear a cane tapping against the stone floor path, and a person clad in a dark robe appears. Your heart skips a beat when you see Baelor coming out.

“Forgive me, my lady.” He starts. “It was never my intention to frighten you.”

“Bae… your grace.” You collect yourself and bow before him. “I’m happy to see you recovering well. Are you here by yourself?”

“Yes. I appreciate everyone has made sure I'm comfortable, but I needed time for myself.”

You look down at the orange peels in your handkerchief because you fear if you look at him, you’ll say something you shouldn’t. “Then I’ll let you be, my prince.”

You turn around, but he speaks. “Wait.” You look over your shoulder.

“Please don't let my presence disturb you, and I hope it’s not too much to ask; could you join me? "

How long have you waited for his invitation? It made you feel like the first months you knew one another when you didn't know how to act around him.

You nodded and sat on the bench again. He joins you soon after, groaning as he plops down the hard bench. Maybe you should ask a servant to bring a cushion for him.

You remained silent and so did he.

The silence did not feel tense. It felt familiar. Like the days you got to know each other, where you used each other's presence and didn't need words to pass time. You simply relished being together.

“The song you were humming.” Baelor said, gently breaking the silence. “I recognised it. A High Valyrian song about a daughter asking her father to collect a star for her; he tells her he’ll ride his dragon as high as he can and collect all of them for her. And when he does, the daughter gets sad because the sky is no longer shining, so the father puts her in his dragon, and they put the stars back in the sky.”

“Yes.” You confirm. "Unfortunately I don't know how to sing the words; I just know the rhythm.”

“Where did you hear it from?”

The truthful answer would be. ‘You sang to our daughter ever since she was in my womb. You were so sure it was girl just by the way she kicked against your hand.’

“I heard it from a volantis singer that was passing by.” You said. “It’s my daughter’s favourite song. I hummed it to her when putting her in her cradle."

The more truthful answer would be. ‘She doesn't like it when anyone else but you sings it. She once placed her hand in the King’s mouth to shut him up.’

“How old is your daughter?”

“A year old.”

“What’s her name?”

“Hyacinth.”

Baelor looked around the garden at the various hyacinths surrounding you and him and chuckled.

“A beautiful name.”

You named her, you thought bitterly. “Thank you.”

Baelor shocked his head. “Forgive me, my lady. I just realised I haven't asked your name.”

You answer him.

“Does your husband know you’re here alone?”

“I don't have a husband.” You say it almost bitterly.

It might as well be the truth. Your husband is sitting right next to you like a stranger.

Baelor noticed the tension in your body. “The hour is getting quite late, my lady.” He gets up from the bench and extends his hand towards you. “Allow me to escort you to your chambers.”

You accept his hand and you feel your whole body shivering when you feel Baelor’s skin. “Thank you, your grace.” You reluctantly pull your hand away. “But I have to refuse; my chambers are from yours, and I don't wish for you to exhaust yourself.”

“It would be no trouble.” He tried to argue.

“Please, my prince," You pleaded, exhausted yourself. “I wish to be alone.”

He nodded and stepped aside. 

“I would like to thank you, my lady.” You looked at him confused. “It felt nice to have a conversation with someone that didn't involve my injury or matters of the realm.”

“You’re welcome, my prine.”

You bowed and left the garden, and you could feel Baelor’s eyes on you as he watched you disappear from his view. You put your hand in your belly as you feel a small flutter. As if a feather were caressing your skin.

When you were far away from him, the guards, or any living soul, you stopped and collapsed to your knees and started crying. 

You tried to be strong. For your daughter. For your baby. But when Baelor gazed at you and the warmth and love weren't there, it was painful and heartbreaking. You felt like you were a little girl again being told to pack her things because she was leaving. Because she’s not wanted. You thought you would never feel like that. That Baelor would not let you feel like that ever again. He promised! you know it’s not his fault. That your Baelor would rather forfeit his crown than let you or Hyacith feel like that. A burden.

...

Baelor can’t help but feel like something is missing. Not just his memories but also someone.

At first he thought it was Jena he was missing. It wasn't a love match, but they had respect for one another, and he felt genuinely sad to hear of her death. She was not only his sons’ mother. She was his friend and someone he felt he could rely on when his time came to be King.

When he woke up, his hand, without thinking, went to his side of the bed, expecting to feel another body. He and Jena slept in separate chambers. When he looks to his side, he expects someone to be there, but there’s only an empty space.

He also hears the sound of a babe crying. When he’s in his study, he swears he hears a child crying. He would step into the corridor, but he would see nothing. He asked the guards if they heard a child, and they told him ‘no’. Baelor thinks he’s losing his mind. When he finds a small doll in his drawer and he smells the faint scent of baby powder, he knows that this child is real.

...

Baelor is on another nightly stroll when he hears once again the sound of a child crying, and this time he knows he’s not imagining it when he hears another voice speaking to the babe.

He follows the sound, and he’s surprised to find himself in the royal nursery where he and his brothers spent the first years of their lives. This section is reserved only for the children of the royal family. 

He looks through the gap of the door and sees a small child, a girl, sitting on top of a rug surrounded by pillows. The child was crying almost hysterically. A young nursemaid stood next to her holding a bowl of porridge. She tried to give the baby a spoonful, but the baby turned her head stubbornly and continued to wail. The young nursemaid looked worried sick for the child in her care.

“Should we call the maester?”

An older nursemaid sighed. Baelor recognised she's the same one who took care of his sons. “Don't bother. She'll cry herself to exhaustion very soon.”

The Young nurse maid put the bowl down. “I feel so horrible for her.” The nursemaid wipes a tear from her. “Poor little Hyacinth."

Hyacinth?

The daughter of the lady in the garden. 

“Poor little Hyacinth, indeed.” The older nursemaid repeated. “I recognise that cry. I have taken care of children for almost twenty years and recognised the meaning of every cry they let out. This one is ‘I miss my father’ cry.”

Hyacinth sniffed, agreeing with the nurse maid's conclusion. The girl turned her head and made direct eye contact with Baelor.

Hyacinth stops crying and her body goes stiff. Then she let out a happy shriek. The girl got up and walked towards him. Baelor took a step inside the nursery just as she collided against his leg.

“Your grace!” The nurse maids quickly bowed.

Baelor was more focused on the child in front, who clung to his trousers like it was a lifeline.

He crouched down and picked her up. He hoped his body would not betray him, not while he was holding something so frail.

“Hyacinth.” He called her softly. 

Hyacinth smiled, revealing two teeth on her upper gums, and buried her face in his neck.

Baelor was shocked that the child who was crying hysterically a while ago had calmed down as soon as she saw him.

“Whose child does she belong to?”

One of the nurse maids stammered the name of the lady in the garden, just like he suspected, but there's no mention of a father.

He was about to ask about him when the child pulled her face away from him and pointed at the bowl of porridge while babbling. 

The nursemaid that tried to feed her let out a relieved sigh and quickly picked the bowl. She put the spoon in front of her mouth, but to the dismay of everyone in the room, she turned her face away.

“May I?” Baelor asks, lifting his hand.

The nursemaid passed him the spoon, and he put it in front of the child's mouth. The baby girl chased the spoon and ate the porridge. She opened her mouth wanting more. Baelor scooped another bit of the porridge and repeated the process.

Baelor hummed at her.

“Can I… can I have a moment alone with her?”

“Of course, we'll be in the room right next to you.”

The nursemaids left, and it was just him and her.

Baelor sat himself and Hyacinth on the rug and continued to feed her. She happily took every spoon without hesitation. Once in a while she would stop and smile at him. And Baelor couldn’t help but smile back at her.

When there's nothing left, he gets out his handkerchief and wipes the remaining porridge stuck to her mouth. The handkerchief has hyacinths embroidered on it. He found it inside his pockets when departing Ashford. 

He takes a closer look at the child.

He couldn't help but think she looked familiar. 

She has mismatched eyes like him and Valarr. Her hair was jet black, curled in a way that reminded him of his mother's hair.

Hyacinth got up and walked to him. She placed her hands on his shoulder and looked at him expectantly. 

“What is it that you want, little lady?” 

She huffed.

Then Baelor remembered what the lady in the garden said about her daughter. 

He started singing quietly. 

Hyacinth relaxed and laid her head on his shoulder. Baelor put his hand on her back and laid her on his lap. She was so small. He continued to sing. He liked this song. When he was a tiny lad, the maesters would give him and his brothers songs to translate. This one became his favourite. He liked the story behind it, the love a father had for his child that he flew higher and picked all the stars in the sky for his daughter.

Hyacinth was sleeping peacefully.

Baelor carefully laid her in the cot and looked at her, not knowing how to feel. His mind was reaching an horrendous conclusion. 

...

“And he stayed?”

“For a bit, my lady.” The nurse maid explained. “After he tucked her in and called us back inside, he left but not before telling us to call for him if little Hyacinth needed a Prince to feed her porridge again.”

The nursemaids laughed, and you laughed as well. You could cry from happiness. 

You looked at your daughter, who was in your arms munching on her doll. She looked well rested and happy. 

“And you took your first steps, my little princess?” You laughed. “Of course the first person you would walk to was your papa.” 

You brought her closer to you. You could smell Baelor on her. The familiar scents of ink and parchment. 

“My cheeky little girl. Maybe it's you who is going to bring him back to us.”

...

Baelor paced back in and forward in his study.

A headache was going through his head worse than the others.

He did not know how to feel. Anger? Disappointment? Disgust? All of it?

Why did he do it?

How could've he done it?

Where did he fail?

Baelor thought Valarr better than this!

He was a small child when the Blackfyre 

Valarr was a young child when the Blackfyre Rebellion happened but old enough to remember the reason for why his father was fighting. 

So, why did he sire a bastard? 

And why are you here walking around the castle like you belong to House Targaryen?

Baelor understands Valarr’s need for wanting his daughter nearby, but his mistress? 

Has he gone mad? 

Why would he do this to his wife? 

Does he go to her chambers in the middle of the night and sneak into her bed?

Baelor takes a deep breath and asks the guard to get his son.

"i can't believe you called me gorgeous in front of my entire chat," you groaned into your pillow. lando's hand immediately coming to pat your back and slide down your waist, cooing into your ear.

"you'll live, it's not like you don't have heaps of other chatters complimenting you all the time," lando chuckled.

"yeah, but those chatters aren't my famous boyfriend of two years," you scoffed, turning to face him. "i just don't want to put pressure on us."

"i know, darling," lando hummed, thumbing at your cheek softly. "i'm sure no one will think anything of it."

"i hope so."

Twitter Trending

#LandoY/n

Fans speculate over the relationship between Internet Personality Y/N and Formula One Driver Lando Norris after Norris' chats on her Twitch Stream.

2. #landohasrizz

3. #y/nxlandoisreal

Liked by yourbff, lando, twitchtv and 39,103 others.

y/nliveig malta i loved you and i miss you already 🇲🇹 💖💞

user1 omg so this is where you've been

y/nliveig more trip photos to come 🤫🤫

user2 so pretty

user3 booking my flights there now lowkey

lando 🔥🔥🔥

yourbff we love a well travelled girly

y/nliveig 47/215 countries completed!!

user4 she's such an inspiration

user5 i want to be y/n when i grow up

user6 she's living her best life and we love her for it

twitchtv irl travel stream when?

user7 anyone else think that the guy on slide 7 looks like lando norris???

user8 you need to get your eyes checked user9 wait tho i see it user10 confirmation bias is crazy user11 landoy/n is real

user12 landoy/n confirmed

user13 softlaunch????

user14 she's so hot omg

user15 ⭐⭐⭐

Clip #1 - Lando's tanned af

"'did you get a tan?' yeah, i did. i just got back from southern europe, spent the summer break in the sun so recharged for the rest of the season."

Clip #2 - new sim for lando

"might do some more sim racing streams, chat. i've gotten a new sim set up recently so i want to test it out a bit... 'what happened to my last one?' i gave my last one to my girlfriend, she wants to give it a go and i was getting ready to upgrade so i thought i'd give her mine to try it out and i'd buy another one. and if she likes it, i'll buy her a new one."

Clip #3 - lando shows off his minecraft server

lando logs onto his minecraft server, humming as his game loads into a cherry blossom house. "'the house looks so nice' thanks chat, my girlfriend built it. she's a really good builder." lando's character stands in front of one lime bed which is sat next to an aqua bed. "and we just had to put our beds together." lando chuckles, before logging out of the minecraft world.

Liked by landopriv, o69p, yourbff and 18 others.

y/npriv how i felt seeing all the twitter threads speculating about me dating this muppet

landopriv and yet you still love me

y/npriv i do i wont deny that landopriv pls delete these pics tho y/npriv no ❤️

o69p mad muppet energy from this one

y/npriv pls save me osc

dannyricc haven't you muppets been dating for like 5 years

y/npriv what about it dannyricc im surprised they didnt figure it out earlier, yall are not slick landopriv ...

yourbff THE MEMES IM CACKLING

landopriv omg shut up pls girl i beg yourbff naur girl

fewtrellmax you can keep the muppet

y/npriv no you landopriv i hate the both of you

lilymhe idgaf about lando when are you coming to another race

y/npriv soon bbg

"pizza tonight, darling?"

"yeah, sounds good," you smiled as you stepped into the living room, wearing a first generation quadrant merch shirt and lando's sweatpants, watching as he tapped around on his phone. "can we get the-"

"the cheesy garlic pizza with extra crème fraiche? already added to the cart!" lando smiled, wrapping his arms around you, inhaling your scent.

"you know me so well," you giggled, his growing goatee tickling the side of your neck. you sighed into his embrace, relaxing into his chest.

"tired?"

"just a bit," you mumbled.

"it's okay, you're still as beautiful as ever."

"you're a dork," you snorted, turning around to lean against the kitchen counter and facing him.

"your dork," lando grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, parting only after a few seconds. "and hopefully your dork forever and ever?"

your brown haired driver boyfriend dropped down onto one knee, and at first, you didn't want to believe that this was happening. you couldn't fathom how this was happening.

"y/n, you have been the best thing that has ever happened to me, and you know i don't like cliches so when i say this, i'm being honest as fuck. i've loved every moment with you since you insulted me in my twitch chat. i've loved being your friend, your lover, your partner, your travel buddy, your everything," lando sighed, his hand in yours. "i want to spend the rest of my life with you. through every small and big moment, for every loss and every win. i want to be your husband, forever and always."

"lando..."

"please let me finish, i want you to hear everything," lando pleaded, before pulling a ring box out of his pocket. "y/n, will you marry me?"

"yes, you muppet. of course, i'll marry you," tears flooded your eyes as lando grinned, slipping the ring onto your finger. "i love you so much."

"i love you too," lando sighed in relief, pressing a passionate peck to your lips, his hand holding yours as he deepened the kiss. with a sigh, he pulled away, putting his forehead against yours. "thank god."

"don't tell me you were worried," you teased, thumbing at the new ring on your finger.

"i was stressed as fuck," lando huffed. "i was worried you'd say no."

"now, why would i say that, baby?"

"cause you're incredible and i'm me..."

"you're incredible too, lando norris. don't ever doubt that."

"i love you, y/n."

"i love you too, lando."

y/nlive & lando

Liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, yourbff, mclarenf1, twitchtv, f1 and 982,611 others.

y/nlive 5 years with this muppet, took him long enough. (jk i love you so much lando, thank you for being the best partner a girl could ask for❤️❤️❤️❤️ )

lando love you forever gorgeous gorgeous girl

y/nlive love you more baby boy

oscarpiastri congratulations you two!

alexalbon he's had that ring sitting in his bedside table for four years, i'm surprised you didn't find it.

y/nlive NEWS TO ME alexalbon GIRL HE'S SO DOWN BAD AND HAS BEEN FOR YEARS

maxfewtrell congratulations! can't wait for the wedding :P

mclarenf1 our papaya it couple 🧡🧡

yourbff WOOHOOOOOO

user16 can't believe that thread was right...

user17 MAMA AND PAPA

user18 OMG THE CUTEST COUPLE

user19 cant wait to see y/n at races now

y/nlive girl i've been going to races since 2022 user20 WHAT y/nlive im sneaky af LMFAOOOOOOO

© oscars-odyssey

user OH MAMA 🥵🥵🥵

user this should NOT be allowed

f1 🔥🔥🔥🔥 liked by author

redbullracing so excited to have you on our team!! liked by author

user NO WAY BRO ITS REAL

user holy shit– i can't believe she actually went to red bull

user WAIT— DOES THIS MEAN YOURE WITH RED BULL NOW 😱😱😱 liked by author

user omg wait yn x max dream team 🤩🤩

user yn and george will always be the dream team 😭😭

user NO WAY YN LIKED YOUR COMMENT DUDE

user this was so worth the wait..

carmenmmundt will always be sexy and gorg can't wait to see you in melbourne my love liked by author

ynatelier my loveeeeeeeee 😭 i miss you so much 🫶 lets get togeter in melbourne, leave george at home

georgerussell63 please stop trying to steal my girlfriend 😒

ynatelier excuse me??? this is a private convo there's the door 👉🚪

user bro i can't believe this... red bull is literally op now with both yn AND max on the same team

user just hoping the second seat curse doesn't get her too 😭

user red bull had always been op before her... she's not THAT special 😒😒

user bro max wouldn't like to know you're potentially talking shit about his teammate

user LOVE YOU

maxverstappen1 glad to have you on the same team partner 🥳 p is very happy to know she can see you more liked by author

ynatelier tell p i love herrrrr 💕 and excited to see her more this season as well 🤩

georgerussell63 gonna miss you partner 🤧🤧🤧 liked by author

ynatelier haha you’ll miss me even more when i’m ahead of you 🤩🤩🤩

georgerussell63 stop hanging out with max PLEASE

lando looking good liked by author

ynatelier thank you girlfriend 🧡 i worked hard for that 🍑

user not yn still calling lando girlfriend 😭😭 some jokes just don’t die with her huh

user THE SONG CHOICE THE SONG CHOICE

written by joe m.

what was oncea a previous well-kept secret within the f1 sport, has now been revealed. everyone in the motorsport's community knew that this would be y/n's last year racing for mercedes, but none of the teams had revealed which one she would be moving to. if moving at all.

of course, after 2024 season was officially over and the dust around max verstappen's fourth wdc had settled, y/n did what she does best.

stir the pot. with one simple instagram post, she revealed to the world what team she would driving for in 2025. the news of her leaving mercedes in the first place was already a shock to the community, but now to reveal that she would be driving for red bull made an even bigger splash.

but that's leaves many people wondering...

did she truly choose to leave mercedes, or was she asked to leave? many theorize that y/n and toto wolff had a fallout and she was removed. too many scandals in 2023 had lead her to be a liability instead of a trophy.

however, many simply believe that the female driver is choosing to leave on her own accord. much like lewis hamilton a few years prior. and now, many are curious as to how long she will stay at red bull or if this is potentially the beginning of the end for our favorite female racer.

COMMENTS :

💬 : bro what even is this article??? get a real job and stop trying to trash y/n

💬 : this article is trash– she's accomplished so much over the past five years and you just have to try and bring her down??

💬 : don't call her your "favorite" female driver when all you guys do is continuously hate on her 🙄 get a life

💬 : who let this wanna be journalist write this??

💬 : what scandals did she have in 2023?? she literally had an accident on the track and called out shitty reporters and their sexist comments towards her... if anything she was protecting herself from harassment last year 🤬 this article is shit, sorry not sorry

💬 : drivers get moved to different teams all the time, does that mean they are also going to be quitting soon???

💬 : if you aren't gonna talk about the male drivers like this, then keep y/n out of your mouth

💬 : "stir the pot" lol that's what you guys said when she posted her calvin klein photoshoot earlier this year 🙄🙄

💬 : y/n is literally too hot of a woman to have articles like this written about her

ynatelier ♫ ABBA · Voulez-Vous

ynatelier these pictures and words can't describe how incredibly thankful i am to everyone at mercedes over the last four years. they have helped me reach feats that no other woman in motorsports has been able to accomplish and i will be forever grateful to them.

and no, i did not get kicked out or have a fall out with anyone in the team. i left because i was getting too comfortable with my position and knew that i needed to trust my gut and try to apply my abilities elsewhere in order to better myself. i have no doubt that @/kimi.antonelli will be perfect for mercedes so please show him the same love you all have shown me over the last four years 🩵🩶🩵

thank you mercedes and i can't wait to beat you all in the new season 😈

View all 304,092 comments

mercedesamgf1 🩵🩶🩵 liked by author

redbullracing can't wait to see you destroy on the circuits but first we'll have to destroy that mercedes merch 😁 liked by author

user not red bull choosing violence at the end 😭😭

georgerussell63 glad to see the cockiness didn't leave you 😂

ynatelier ofc 💁‍♀️ especially when it comes to beating you 🤣🫵

georgerussell63 whatever 🙄

kimi.antonelli thank you yn!! liked by author

lewishamilton so proud of you and everything you've achieved over the last few years.

mclaren hope to see you one day in orange 🧡

user i think lando logged into mclaren account

kellypiquet so excited to see more of you love 💕 liked by author

ynatelier ofc gorgeous ☺️💖

carmenmmundt my beautiful girl don't stop being sexy 😘

ynatelier thank you my love

user love how yn is just casually stealing carmen from george

user SO BEAUTIFUL I LOVE YOU

user can't believe its been four years since you started racing with mercedes!! hope to many more at red bull 🥳

user still completely gagged over how she revealed this news to us 🥴 so iconic of you queen

COMMENTS