Ars longa, vita brevis.

i am so intrigued by their family history. being so close in age and all trained by the same master-at-arms... i wonder what they were all like as children.

more of ♀️maekar

imagining that myriah's relationship might be quite different with her only and youngest daughter, a final baby princess.

im so proud of the intro 🥲 | ac : qxangellicz.mp3 | ib : regul1sb | some transitions rm : yukituts & sofiemlys

art credits : slavonicrhapsody, zacckiel, peachyxuan, darinaursus, callistoawe, mincy_art, mapplepng1, thewweskywalker, sleazyjanet, vintrage.art, callistoawe, urwlw & josu hernaiz

Baelor glanced at the forgotten toy in the boy's playpen. It was almost surprising to find them with his youngest son--Aegon had not once expressed a liking for the simple toys, preferring miniature horses and knights atop of boards with drawn maps. Their Aemon might have been the fondest of books, but it was their little Aegon who had an uncommon intelligence in his own way at such a young age.

"Kepa?" came Aegon's voice.

"Yes?" Baelor glanced away from the letter that he was reading, pretending that he didn't know of Aegon's purple eyes (Maekar's eyes) already on him. "What is it, son?"

Baelor patiently waited for Aegon to speak again. "... I missed you, Kepa."

He had to fold the correspondence back to the pile if only to give himself the time to regret not seeing to their younger children first the moment he returned. He had seen Valarr and Daeron and Aerion, and thought he'd set aside time for later for others, and even later for their youngests. He'd forgotten that Aegon was one of the youngests. "So have I."

It had only been a week away from them, but Baelor could admit that the evenings within Lord Hayford's halls were far too quiet without Maekar and their children. "Have you been good to your mother?"

Aegon nodded grimly. "Muña said she doesn't let him sleep."

Baelor smiled. Three moons in another pregnancy, Maekar had been restlessly pacing in their chambers often. He paused, realizing something. "She?"

"Rhae."

"Rhae?" Maekar was yet to speak of what he wished to name the next child. A daughter then, if the maester could already tell this early. Baelor could not find fault with the name. "Rhae it is, I suppose."

He caught the flash of sadness that crossed Aegon's face before he rushed to him, small arms embracing Baelor's legs tightly. Baelor lifted him up easily, placing a kiss on his temple.

"I missed Muña too," he heard Aegon quietly say, "Please don't leave again, Father."

Baelor is in an apologize rather than ask permission mood.

prince Maekar is squiring for Baelor? he’s got his own rooms and will tell Baelor to fuck off if he so much as asks for his armor cleaned (Baelor bribes him to do it).

bastard Maekar “sleeps” in Baelor’s doorway (like grooms or valets did historically), does his armor, helps him dress, writes his letters when his eyes get tired and is much easier to invite to bed. no one’s going to notice if his cot’s unused or care that Baelor’s bed’s rumpled. and Maekar’s a bastard, he’s probably been inhaling that bastards are lustier faith shit since he could understand words.

professors AU / just a typical lunch break conversation...

Baelor is specialized in Political Science & History, and Maekar in Strategy, Statecraft, and Technology (yes, i checked, it exists at Oxford lol)

inspiration below the cut ↓

yield. learn to let go.

BAELOR x MAEKAR TARGARYEN, mature, 5.5k

▲ mind the tag please ▲ and thank u sfm @rmelster for betaing my fic <3

Maekar feels like he hasn't been able to breathe freely all day – Baelor tries to soothe his troubled little brother.