hws prussia my beloved

Hello hello! Thank you dear anon<3 I am having a pretty good day actually!

Now let's get into the explanation for this fic

Valarr is an omega. Daeron is an alpha. Aerion is a beta. Valarr and Daeron have been married for a few years and Valarr recently threw a huge tantrum because Maekar was trying to have Aerion marry someone. Valarr stopped all talks of Aerion's marriage and had him move to King's Landing to be with him and Daeron (he's a spoiled brat and Baelor can't refuse him anything<3)

As for the timeline. This happens a few days before they leave King's Landing for Ashford :)

Ok and now the snippets:

It's warm, is what echoes in his mind as he wakes slowly.

Their bed is warm. Unusually so.

Valarr blinks sluggish eyes open, hand reaching out beneath the blankets, searching for cold skin and familiar cool hands.

He does not find them.

He rubs his eyes, willing himself to wake some more as he sits up, the blankets covering him falling, the cool air of the nighttime brushing against his bare skin.

Next to him, Aerion grumbles something, his fingers latching upon the blankets and pulling.

Valarr covers him with them, smiling slightly as Aerion sleepily mumbles about the cold.

He looks around them, looking for their lover, and finds only himself and Aerion in their chambers.

Daeron is gone.

He had been next to them when Valarr fell sleep, earlier in the night, his arms wrapped around Valarr's waist, his long legs thrown across his and Aerion's.

He had been in a good mood, unusual for him, but more common as of late, since Aerion had moved to King's Landing permanently.

He had even rejected the idea of mating in favor of sleep, saying he was tired. Valarr had found himself happy that his husband was gladly welcoming sleep for once, not using sex or wine to escape it.

He had watched Valarr and Aerion with half lidded eyes for a while, before falling sleep, and they had joined him as well, after they had enough of each other's bodies.

Even in his sleep, Daeron always manages to find either Valarr or Aerion, or both, and grab hold of them, seeping cold onto their skin and warming himself with their warmth.

His absence in their bed always makes Valarr feel uncomfortably warm, left only with Aerion's hot skin against his own.

Daeron cools them down, taking some of their warmth as his cold skin lays against theirs.

Valarr carefully finds his way around Aerion and off the bed, silently walking to his clothes, carelessly thrown across the floor.

Aerion had nearly ripped them off his body hours ago, hungry for his bare skin and impatient as he always is.

He covers himself and slips outside, hiding in the shadows of the Red Keep as he finds his way outside, following his love where he knows him to be.

- cut between scenes

Daeron is laid out upon a chair within the room when Valarr enters, a cup in hand, his head leaning back against the chair, his eyes closed.

Valarr takes quiet steps to him, bending down to bring his face close to Daeron's, his lips hovering against Daeron's temple.

"Little cousin," he whispers, and Daeron opens his eyes, head turning to see Valarr.

"You left our bed too warm and uncomfortable, my love." Valarr smiles at him, leaning forward to press a soft kiss above Daeron's eye.

His golden lashes flutter against Valarr's lips, and he sighs, hands reaching out to pull Valarr close.

Valarr happily moves to settle upon his lap, his arms coming up to wrap around his husband's shoulders.

"Hello," Daeron whispers softly, his hands finding home on Valarr's waist. "Omega."

"Hmm, your omega missed you," Valarr hums, gently brushing his fingers over Daeron's face, his pale skin, the dark circles beneath his eyes.

He smells horribly drunk, reeking of wine and sweat and misery, as he usually does. But it is stronger tonight, more bitter, something tired and scared beneath his usual scent.

A new dream then.

A new nightmare that will no doubt hunt him for weeks to come.

Valarr leans forward to kiss him, palms cradling his beautiful face, not bothered by the prickly feel of his unshaven skin.

He brushes gentle thumbs over Daeron's jaw, over his cheeks, under his eyes, kissing him as he does.

They kiss slowly, languid. Valarr presses his lips against Daeron's in soft brushes, not minding Daeron's stillness.

His husband gives him a kiss for every five that Valarr gives him, his mouth tasting of wine, his lips dry, his movements slow and sloppy.

By the Gods, how Valarr loves him.

He is nearly sleep, drunk and tired as he is, and yet still, he tries to show Valarr the same love Valarr gives him.

It is as endearing as it had been on the day Valarr kissed him for the first time, the day he realized he loved Daeron deeply.

- cut between scenes

"I will carry all of your burdens, always, no matter what it will cost me," he tells his love.

Daeron is everything to him, he is the Sun Valarr wishes to orbit for eternity. He will never mind losing sleep to comfort him. He will never mind doing anything for Daeron.

"Will you go home with me?" He asks softly, gazing at his husband's beautiful eyes, waiting for Daeron to look back at him.

He does, blinking slowly, golden lashes fluttering as he looks at Valarr, almost shyly.

"I cannot sleep," he says quietly.

I will not, He means.

Valarr reads the fear within his eyes easily, has spotted it there a thousand times, knows what it means by heart.

He fears the dreams returning to him, fears being hunted by them yet again.

"You will not have to sleep," Valarr assures him. "I will stay awake with you, we can wake Aerion as well, stay awake together."

"He won't appreciate us waking him."

"He won't appreciate you suffering alone."

Daeron's mouth trembles, his eyes turning glossy with unshed tears.

"I do not mind," he whispers.

"We do," Valarr tells him, simple.

They do. They mind whether Daeron suffers alone or not. They would lose sleep to make sure he does not.

They would lose a lot more than sleep to make sure he does not suffer alone.

To make sure he is not alone.

- cut between scenes

"I knew we should have fucked before you slept," Aerion mumbles sourly, hiding his face against Daeron's shoulder, his arms coming up to wrap around his waist.

The remark makes Daeron laugh.

"Your cock cannot magic away my dreams, Aerion," he says, voice fond.