the king that never was,

hidden and known (we can be anything) link.

He starts slightly at the sound of Baelor's footfalls against the stable floor. "Good morning, Your Grace." "Good morning, Master Duncan," Baelor smiles, faint. "You've already been hard at work, I see." "Aye," Dunk agrees, stretching out his arms above his head in a long, exaggerated gesture. Baelor watches the movement with a reserved fascination, carefully tempered as he averts his attention to Wyvern when it drags on for a second too long. "I wanted to make sure I had your horse ready for you." The prince hums quietly. "And I thank you for it. I hoped to bring him out for one more ride before we depart tomorrow."

TEARS OF JOY,

The heat is scorching—it would have been beyond intolerable with his typical garb, so Baelor is grateful that both he and his brother knew what to expect of their visit. And despite the slight discomfort, he is calmed by the weight of the sun against his skin. The same cannot be said for the member of the Kingsguard beside him. Dunk has an odd look at his face, nose slightly scrunched up as he trails behind the King at nearly a half-pace. If he wasn't watching so closely, the taller man might have been trampling all over his feet. "At peace, Ser Duncan," Baelor soothes, pausing to press a hand against the knight's chest. Dunk stares down at him for a beat before he forces his expression to relax; he makes no move to step away from the familiar touch. "It's strange to be out of my armor," Dunk huffs back, catching himself only a moment later. "Your Grace. I don't know what you mean to do here." "I do hope you find yourself capable of resting for a few hours," the king replies, eyeing him seriously in that way he does to ensure that Dunk is listening to him. "You are not required to guard me at present, ser. Seek out my nephew. I'm certain he will also enjoy your company for the time we're here." Dunk glances back in the direction of Maekar and his brood; even he cannot miss the gangly boy peering back at him from around his father's broad form. He exhales, lips pursed. "An order, Your Grace?" "None of that," Baelor quips, allowing his hand to rest on Dunk's cheek for the briefest of moments. "Off you go, my knight. I'll return to you before too long."

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous, and tag as many people as you have WIP (or as you like). People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it. I was tagged by @scrumptiousmoonperson :) active WIPs/in the publish queue: oh, you built me a castle (to make me a king) i'm down on my knees (for you, for you) by your side (i will stay) on hold/brainstorming/noodling about: valarr-centric grief oneshot daeron big brother angst oneshot beach episode spearhedge oneshot kingsguard dunk pwp spearhedge oneshot baelor/dunk/lyonel pwp oneshot maekar at the end of the trial of seven (companion to this) companion piece to BYS (feat. maekar & baelor convos) tagging: you, reading this. please.