Notes : this literally took so long and its so short guys im sorry BUT holy shit does stuff happen

Side Notes : I should mention that if things feel like they're moving really quickly, it's because logically there's no way Maekar would find out about anything and not be on that ass expeditiously. this house is a fucking prison, literally, wifey can't get away with jack shit :(

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

A mistake. That’s what it was, and that’s what it was always going to be.

You did not love Maekar, and what you had said and done that night had occurred because there had been a lapse in your judgement. Perhaps you had had too much wine that night, or perhaps your body had compelled you to do all of those things with him because you were anxious. 

You obviously had done it out of the need to survive. 

That was the conclusion you set yourself upon, your actions muddled by something you could not explain. The thought brought a pass of coldness to your fingertips as you flipped to a new page in the book you held. 

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do.” You read aloud, your free hand stroking the crown of hair that rest against your bosom. “My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

Three voices erupted into giggles all around you, high pitched and half squealing as you glanced up from the pages. Pride and Prejudice, was the name, a book from Daella’s personal collection, and one Rhae had insisted you read from during your tea times throughout the past two weeks. 

The words upon the page although only ink still made even your skin feel warm, a certain bubble of nervousness growing in your stomach as the girls continued in their fawning tittering. Personally, you thought that Elizabeth was better off without Mr. Darcy, but you wouldn’t voice that to the young girls who circled you - less you shatter their childish fantasies. 

“He sounds so angry when he says it.” Rhae laughed as she grabbed a half a tart off of the table that had been pushed aside to make room for your seating arrangement on the floor. 

“I think he is.” Daella responded as she plucked a raspberry off of Rhae’s tart and ate it. 

“But why would he be angry if he loves her? Shouldn’t he be happy?” Rhae voiced again.

“I’m not sure.” Daella said as she stroked her chin pensively, her light eyes flitting towards you as Aerella adjusted herself on your lap. “Does my father behave that way with you, muña?”

Your gaze snapped up instantly, and you stared at Daella with a stunned expression, your face quickly burning up again as you looked towards Rhae, only to find the same expectant look on her face. 

Did Maekar act that way with you? Well of course he did. 

A soft sputter of sounds erupted from your chest as you fumbled for the words to say. How did one go about voicing how a man showed affection to his wife in front of his children? You felt mortified just thinking about Maekar’s children speculating the terms of your relationship in private.

“Your father is a very quiet man about his feelings,” you began truthfully, “there are some things that even I am not entitled to knowing about him.”

That last part was a lie, you practically knew everything about Maekar. To you, there was no part of him left to be discovered, because you had already taken it upon yourself to open up the depths of his emotions. 

When you thought about it that way, your heart sank a little, a feeling of shame enveloping you as you cleared your throat and smiled at the confused girls before you. They were too young to understand how these kinds of things worked, and part of you hoped they would never have to. Keeping secrets about your husband from your husband wasn’t exactly easy nor joyful. 

“But you love him, don’t you?” Daella asked with a knowing look in her eye, her focus trained on you as she awaited an answer.  

It wasn’t like she was trying to catch you in a lie, it was more like she was hoping for the best. She had watched her father struggle alone for years, so you found it understandable to find an anxiety for her father in her eyes. That look alone gutted you, guilt creeping up your spine as you glanced down at your lap.

“I do, yes.” You hummed quietly, as if almost embarrassed to answer the teen girl that sat before you.

“I’m glad.” Daella spoke back, a smile spreading on her lips as though she were delighted by the information she had uncovered.

If only she knew. If only she knew that you had defiled her father’s privacy, and sung him false words of love when he was most vulnerable, then maybe you could feel your guilt and shame entirely.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The new Spring still carried its days of cold air and morning mist even as Summer approached in a hurry, and this was something you quite liked admiring particularly; the sights of the suspended fog from your chamber window or the breakfast hall doors often drawing your ire as of late. 

There was the rain too, though its phenomenon often occurred more at night than during the day. To you it became your chorus to focus on when you were tidying up for bed, the rhythmic taps upon the castle walls and roofs being enough to quell your afternoon anxiety. 

“There’s no use in avoiding the topic any longer.” Mya sighed as she watched you rewrap the spool of embroidery thread over and over again.

You were meant to be embroidering a handkerchief for Maekar, the deep red string in your hand almost entirely tangled. It was going to be a small favor for him before he left on a three day long hunt, the silk cloth dampening in your hands as you grew clammy. 

“I have to. I can’t tell him I know, ever.” You huffed at Mya as you tossed the handkerchief aside. 

She had been pressuring you to tell him ever since you had confided in her what you’d told him that night. A frustrated look bled onto Mya’s face in an instant as you brushed her off, her brows setting as she reached over on the loveseat and pinched you. 

“You’re halfway there already you know, I just don’t see why you’re holding back.” Mya tutted as you swatted her hand away. 

“He won’t understand.” You said. 

“How do you know he won’t understand if you don’t tell him?” Mya responded.

You gave her a sour look after she said that, a light expression on her face as she shrugged. What would she know about the endeavors of marriage? Mya had never married, though she was only two years your junior, she had no man to control her funds or put limits to her life; as far as you were concerned, she was free from anything close to what you were experiencing.

“That’s easy for you to say.” You said with a frown, your hand moving as you wet the tip of the red thread and pulled it through the eye of your embroidery needle. 

“I suppose so..” Mya sighed finally, her nimble hand shifting over your knee gently. “But you know I only make suggestions for when I believe they’ll help you.” 

You were silent for a moment as you thought over her words, your lip twitching as you thought through a witty comeback. She was right, you needed to say something.. or at least make things real. 

“I know.” You murmured.

The dragon sigil came easy to you after so many years of embroidering it, each stitch precise and just shy of perfect. Maekar was going to like it; he liked just about everything you gifted to him. 

Staring at the handkerchief in your hand you sighed, this was an all time new low, even for you. 

Neither of you had spoken about the words you had uttered in bed, though you could tell just by looking at Maekar, it was the only thing on his mind. He hadn’t reciprocated the phrase at all - at least in ways you could understand. 

He loved you and he couldn’t even say it to your face? You were beginning to doubt his so-called affections. It was hypocritical and you knew it, but the thought of losing Maekar’s feelings made you anxious. You were actually beginning to believe you might’ve been the more selfish one in your marriage. 

“If you’re not going to say anything now.. then you should at least say something before the year turns.” Mya said as you fidgeted with the handkerchief in your hand.

There was some truth to her words, you two were almost married for a complete year already, and complicating your marriage again five years down the road wasn’t exactly a good idea. You knew better than to threaten your foreseen happiness with the consequences of your cowardness. 

“Sometimes I wish you could tell him for me.” You heaved as you set the handkerchief aside and stood up. 

Mya made a face when you glanced at her, your hands slowing as you fixed your top skirt. Her brow was raised in a way that often humored you, her lips pursed as she shook her head gently.

“I think you know your husband well enough to know that he would probably explode if that happened.” Mya chuckled, her nimble hands shifting to pick up Aerella’s baby bonnet that you had asked her to clean. 

Silk could be such a tedious thing when it was intended for a delicate purpose. 

You smoothed the fabrics of your dress as you exited the sitting room, your body warm as recalled the sensations of having a newborn all over again. Aerella had been a great babe, though often clingy and fussy when she wasn’t being held when she wanted to be. Baelor was the one to indulge her the most, and her brothers were oftentimes the ones swooping in right after their father when she made it a point to demand attention.

You wished you could experience those moments once again as you thought of them - the baby smell of Aerella’s hair, the sound of her happy gurgles, even the feel of her scorching warm skin on yours as she took her first deep breaths. 

It would be different, but you hoped that you could have that with a babe of Maekar’s doing; the stifling joy that you so often reminisced on. You thought that surely you could have that with him, after all it seemed quite apparent that Lady Dyanna, with all of her six children, had that. 

You paused as you stood before the doors of Maekar’s study, your body fixed at an angle as your gaze fell upon the carved wood. It looked like the same wood that decorated the nursery a few doors down from your chambers, deep in its stain and carefully crafted. It was not the luxury you had become briefly accustomed to in Kingslanding, but it was your home now and you were comfortable.

The smell of tobacco quickly filled your nose when you pushed open the doors of Maekar’s study, light smoke that had barely begun to dissipate still lingering in the air. He’d had a few drinks, you knew it by the open decanter and the line of dark bourbon halfway gone, his skin lightly flushed with a fairly relaxed look upon his brow. You sort of liked the look on him, his hair pushed away from his face from where he had run his hands through it.

“Sweetness.” Maekar said as he looked at you with a crooked smile.

You watched him lean back in his chair slowly, his head cocking as he opened up his arms towards you. He must’ve been somewhere between tipsy and completely drunk, a breath escaping you as you approached his desk, your legs bringing you around the table.

“Hello, my love.” You responded, a curl unfurling on your lips as you took his left hand. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your extraordinary presence, hmm?” He sighed as you slowly sat on his lap.

You could feel the muscles in his thighs shudder and ripple as he fixed his legs wider, your hips moving with him as he rested his palm against the cusp of your rump. There was a faint vanilla aroma on him, courtesy of the bourbon, his eyes soft with a blurred feeling you often tried to avoid acknowledging.

“Can’t I want to see my husband?” You quipped back as you wiggled up on his lap, sitting sideways as he inspected your face. 

“I suppose you could want that..” Maekar shrugged with a low sigh, a shiftiness pooling in his pupils as you stared at him.  

He’d been off since that night, but you chose not to mention it at all, your stomach warming with a quiet nervousness you were afraid to pay any attention to. 

“Is something troubling you?” You asked after some silence, a silly little smile painted on your lips as he looked at you again. 

Part of you wondered if what you had said all those nights ago had changed him, a confusing expression flickering over his face. You had heard of lies becoming curses, but you had always assumed such were just old faerie tales, your heart thumping as you looked at his purple eyes.

Would your home ever be filled with happiness and mirth if you said something now? Could you continue to allow yourself to live something that wasn’t true? You were beginning to doubt your judgement the further you moved away from the letter, your heart squeezing as he gave you a sad furrow of his brows.

You pitied him, that was all.

“Aerion has sent me a letter informing me of his pursuits in Lys.. many of which being the cunts of his favorite whores,” Maekar drawled out, his warm and calloused hand slowly dragging over your ass as he bounced his free knee, “ah, he had requested I provide him with more money.” 

“Oh.” You said rather bluntly. 

A good wife would know what to say. A good wife would never lie to her husband. A good wife would never take advantage of his feelings either.

“It sounds like he’s gotten rather comfortable.” You coughed dryly, your hand splaying over his abdomen as you leant closer to him. 

There was a wry hum from his chest followed by a look of partial disappointment directed somewhere far off from the walls of his study, his fingers running up your spine as you looked at him. It was a feeling of pity that was often evoked from your chest when you looked at him lately, a strong twisting in your heart as you justified the secrets you kept from him.

“He intends to have me spoil him even from afar, but I suppose such is life with children.” Maekar grumbled, his gaze returning to you as you ran your hand over his chest. 

He was as handsome as he was miserable, a huff rattling through his throat as slipped his hand up and down your waist. The stresses he felt with his children made you wonder about your own, an already strained and fragile relationship made with the children you hadn’t yet conceived. 

Would he pull away from you entirely if he found out? You imagined he would have some strong feelings about it at least, though his tired eyes had frequented his conversations about the importance of a clean slate in your relationship. 

You thought you would be more hurt if he didn’t care about your discovery at all, and though that felt somewhat strange inside of you, you were entitled to wanting him entirely. 

“I think your idea of children has soured as your own season with personality.” You hummed softly, your finger gently tracing over the dragon brooch on the left breast of his surcoat. 

“You think so?” He laughed softly, his hand covering yours as your eyes met his. 

“Mm, I know so,” You said sweetly, a coy smirk pulling on your mouth, “in fact, I think you’re so frustrated because your children are all exactly like you.” 

Maekar chortled at that, a warm amused expression slipping over his eyes as you brushed your nose against his. You pitied him, yes, but you desired him even more than that. 

“I guess I could begin to believe in that, but only if my next one does not take more after you.” Maekar said lowly, his thumbs pressing into your waist as you smiled shyly. 

“Playing the long game are we?” You responded with a gentle breath, your lower lip tucking under your teeth as he smiled.

“Oh, you have no idea.” He chuckled.

You didn’t respond to that with anything besides your mouth against his, your lips pressing down on his as he wrapped his arms around you. Maekar could be a confident man when the time called for it, his brow lifting as you broke for air and kissed him again swiftly. 

The next one? You had it figured that you would have at least one babe by Maekar to show for your union, but his words made you wonder if he’d been thinking about it too. Surely he must have, you were young enough to give him plenty more if he asked it of you, and you’d seen men twice his age marry over and over again and continue to sire children, so it wasn’t like you were running out of time with him. 

What made you wonder was the way he had said it, the lightness in his voice and the assurance of testing your babe’s inheritance as they grew. You felt some comfort in knowing it wasn’t just you thinking about the future of your marriage, but part of you was bubbling with the anxiety of it too.

You two weren’t exactly not trying to make something together, but you weren’t doing it on purpose either. You were simply enjoying the perks of married life, the expensive dinners, the spoil of coins and jewels, the affection, and most of all, the pleasure. The sex had become frequent again, and you were falling into the routine of expecting it at any point, the demands of your desires almost never ceasing. 

You defended the urges with the fact that Maekar was overwhelmingly passionate, a sometimes normal conversation often swinging down the path of an erotic encounter when he did so much as smile with those familiar murky eyes. 

The sex, as you remembered it with Baelor, wasn’t always so passionate. It was relieving in the way of expressing your love for him, but it was rarely a way of ravaging each other. There had been times when Baelor, as stressed as he was, liked to use sex as a way to blow off steam, but it was hardly as rough as Maekar made it.

When Baelor was stressed, you took over for him, which didn’t feel like a task, but rather a service. You loathed the feeling now that you looked back on it, the boundaries between a labor of love and an act of service for the crown having been flooded over without much acknowledgment. 

Perhaps it had been your own paranoia, after all Baelor had been the crown prince, you knew all too well that there were plenty of women and men willing to serve themselves up for his use if you were not willing. 

You shuddered at the thought of Maekar finding solace elsewhere in the time you had been apart or abstinent. Summerhall wasn’t exactly close to the nearest whorehouse, but you had heard enough about bastards sowed upon servants or ladies maids of a household in your letter exchanges with friends to be vigilant. 

Maybe that was where your ungratefulness showed, you were lucky to have been wed to an amorous man, and yet you often doubted his own emotions for you. He loved you, so he said, and yet you swayed in hesitation to completely accept it. 

That was the irony about the whole thing, a constant battle between whether or not you acknowledged Maekar’s feelings or not when you yourself were avoiding your own emotions. If you didn’t at least like him a bit, then you wouldn’t be saddled in his lap allowing him to drag his mouth down your throat, and that was good enough for you.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Maekar had a habit of being rough around the edges, and though most people could be quick to be offended by it, you’d grown to quite like the attitude. It was refreshing, with all your time spent at court you were used to a layer of passive aggression on top of everything, but Maekar was simply aggressive. 

You’d first figured out that you enjoyed his demeanor sometime before he’d gone for Kingslanding; the rough exterior, his snide remarks, even his mean expressions made you feel dewy. 

Perhaps even the affinity for his degradation had even begun long before you two were married; a certain memory of an exchange of biting remarks between you and Maekar having left you somewhat sexually frazzled in your second year of marriage to Baelor coming to mind, though you would never ever actually admit to it. 

Maybe it was because Baelor wasn’t always good at expressing himself that you were so taken by Maekar’s bluntness, his behavior quite stark from the political mask you’d known Baelor to retreat behind. The fourth son didn’t have to worry about the crown so much as the first, and though the line of succession had been subsequently cut short by three threads, your brusque husband was not worried enough about it to change.

You thought about his behavior as you read alone in the sitting room. Your eyes had wandered over the same three lines over five times by now, and yet you could not get the words to cling anywhere in your mind. It was hard to imagine the story before you when you were so busy thinking about Maekar.

He’d been gone for two days longer than he’d planned to be absent for, a series of rainstorms most likely flooding the river that the party would need to cross to come back. It worried you simply thinking about it, though you knew Maekar was an excellent swimmer amongst other things. 

He was an exemplary man all around. 

You sighed as you looked up from the book in your lap, your eyes finding the mantle, where a painting of an early morning horizon sprawled over the canvas in oils. The image reminded you of Maekar in a way, the purple and orange hues almost reminiscent of the expressions he made when he was around you. 

Within the midground of the painting was the sun, its lighting bright as it rose over the clearing. You stared at it until you saw the moon in the background, its shadow faint but apparent as dawn bloomed over the land the artist chose to depict. 

Part of you wished the moon was more visible, a sadness filling you as its pale face disappeared in the morning sky. 

Maekar’s memory filled your mind once again when you looked away from the canvas, your gaze finding your left hand set upon the hardback book on your lap. It was bound in finer moleskin, though its age was apparent by the wear of its spine. You had spent the better half of your day attempting to read the novel, yet you’d only but succeeded in reading just a third of it. 

It was hard to focus on a story of a girl finding freedom and love when your body was so set on yearning for the man you’d swore you’d only felt indifference to now. 

You missed his voice, his eyes, his smell, even his attitude, but most of all, you missed his touch. 

It had only been five days since you had last lay with Maekar, and yet your body ticked like an unhappy music box in need of a fine tuning. It was only natural to want, you were a woman comfortable in your own sexuality. You craved certain things, special sensual things that filled you with a greater glee than a jeweled gift would. Though, some noble women of the realm would say the deliverance of a cock and its seed was a gift within itself. You considered the idea otherwise.

The sex between you and Maekar was neither a gift or a blessing. You didn’t crave it just because it was good. Allowing Maekar to fuck you wasn’t just a privilege you had earned the day you were wed, it was your right, you deserved it. You deserved to be ridden until you couldn’t see straight anymore. You deserved to have Maekar knelt between your thighs attempting to devour you entirely. 

The absence of him stung once again as you thought harder, a frustration bubbling up in your lower belly as you set aside the book. It was selfish and you knew it, but you ceased to care.

Maekar wanted you to love him and accept him as he was, and if you were going to do that you at least needed to be convinced.

A sigh escaped you as you found it in you to rise from your chair, your eyes sliding over the walls of the room until they found the large window with its curtains drawn back. 

It was drizzling outside, the sky dark as evening changed to night beyond the clusters of angry gray clouds. The rain had managed to let up enough that you knew Maekar would return home before the seventh day of his absence came around, a strange lightness in your chest as you thought of it. 

You had some hopes between you and Maekar, but it was far from what he clearly wanted. You wouldn’t apologize for it. It wasn’t exactly like you could help how you felt towards him. 

One cannot force the hand of love.

Exiting the sitting room, you slunk back in the direction of your chambers, your book held loose in your hand as you dragged your feet. Things felt emptier without Maekar there, though he’d in truth only been absent from Summerhall for five whole days. 

You thought maybe it was his protection that you had missed the most, but his simple company was far more valuable than the scale of undeniable safety he provided. 

The thought brought a smile to your lips as you entered the privacy of your chambers, your book set aside to be forgotten as you began pulling your clothes off. 

You found yourself standing before the polished silver mirror, your thin shift pooled at your feet as you stared at your reflection. You hadn’t taken a good look at yourself since Maekar returned home, his constant presence hindering your chances at inspecting yourself. 

The skin of your stomach felt as soft as usual as you ran your palms over your torso. It didn’t feel the same as when Maekar did it, though his hands were rougher than yours and more greedy when it came to their curiosity. 

What did he see in you? You often pondered it when you were alone as of late. You didn’t see much in him, so why would he see much in you?

You would only ever admit to the fact that you tolerated him because he knew exactly how to fuck you breathless, but that was all. Sure, he could kiss you so passionately that you felt dizzy afterwards, but any man was capable of that. Any man could embrace you when you wished for the touch or pull off romantic gestures that could move your heart a hair towards happiness. 

Any man could do what he did, but you’d be lying if you said Maekar was just like any man. 

You pursed your lips as your hands fell over your lower belly, your brows furrowing and your nose wrinkling as the heat of your palms warmed the flesh shielding your womb. You hardly liked to think about what had happened in Maekar’s absence, even more so you disliked mentioning it. 

He’d brought you a large bouquet of white lilies and pale yellow chrysanthemums the morning after he’d first come home from Kingslanding. You remembered quite vividly that the silk cloth that they had been fashioned in had forget-me-nots embroidered upon the corner. 

You’d wanted to throw the flowers right at him when he set them down on the table in front of the loveseat you’d been sitting at after breakfast. Of course, you hadn’t ended up throwing them at him, but you had bubbled into angry tears when he sat down with you and took your hand.

You disliked crying in front of him, but that day it had felt right to, though your anger had dictated that you would blame his absence on the fact your body rejected what you had made. Maekar, of course, said nothing about your accusations as he took you into his arms that day, his body’s warmth soothing your tears into shallow hiccups. 

A part of you wondered what things would be like if the miscarriage had not happened, maybe you’d be happier, or perhaps you’d be even more miserable. You chewed your lip as you ran your hand over your stomach again. You’d ignored what you felt in the days leading up to your body’s release, the ache of your back, the sensation of tenderness in your breasts, even the nausea. You’d told Mya it was the stress, and maybe that was why your body didn’t respond accordingly to the life you’d begun to create. 

Would you have gone through Maekar’s things if you’d been more focused on being pregnant with his child? Boredom and sadness had driven you to invade his privacy, and if you hadn’t felt all of those things you wondered if you would’ve warmed up to Maekar naturally. You surely wouldn’t have been able to ignore the fact that your womb was quickening with the flesh and blood made from your union with the Targaryen man you lay with almost every night. 

Your belly would’ve been growing heavier with child by now, and the addition of a babe amongst the turmoil of your marriage could’ve been either catastrophic or worse. Maekar wouldn’t have been happy seeing as he was upset with you even still. You doubted the pride of him impregnating you would have made him forfeit the anger and resentment he felt. 

A sigh strained out of your throat as you pulled your hands away from your stomach, your body suddenly frigid as you reached for your nightgown and pulled it on. You wished Maekar was home to warm your bed, your skin prickling with gooseflesh as you quickly padded over to the bed and got in.

You opted to curl up in Maekar’s spot, the hearth closest to his side of the bed. It was warm in the way you thought it’d be, but it was nothing compared to the warmth Maekar naturally produced. His warm body was different to any fire you’d sat in front of, your body yearning to be tucked against his. 

You may have disliked Maekar, but he was certainly valuable in the instance of being cold.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Summer was set to arrive in a hurry, the maesters had predicted this with the celestial calendars back at the Citadel. To be quite frank, you cared not for the weather in which you were set to live in, only the circumstances that you’d be in. 

There was a lightness to the household, and even more joy within the privacy of your chambers. Maekar stuck to you like glue now, not that you entirely minded. After all, you loved him. He was attentive in ways you’d never experienced before, not even with Baelor.

“I like your grandmother’s name.” You hummed as you stood before Maekar, his hands gentle as they caressed your hips.

“Naerys?” He replied as you inched closer to him, your hands folded over the curve of your stomach.

You nodded with a smile as he said the name, a gentleness to it that brought calm to the room. Maekar brought his cheek back to its spot against your belly, his ear flush to your body as he listened to the sound of your baby’s heartbeat. 

He chuckled when you felt the babe kick against him, your heart aflutter when he pulled back to smile at you. If only you relive this moment for the rest of your life. 

The day you’d figured you were pregnant was a magical one, you’d been on a trip with Maekar, and there was a rare instance of free time in your busy schedule. You’d been perusing the gardens of the castle you were visiting, hand in hand with Maekar as you looked over the vibrant Spring flowers. He’d been talking about a memory he had of Baelor and he when they were boys, and as you looked upon the flowerbed of tulips and daisies, you simply knew. You’d been entirely happy then, and you were still overjoyed now. 

“Have you considered a name if the babe is a boy?” You hummed as he propped his chin against the firmness of your pregnant stomach, your fingers gently carding through his soft silver hair. 

“I was considering my brother’s name.” Maekar said as he stared at you, his purple eyes soft as your face remained gentle.

“Baelor would’ve been honored.” You replied, a sweet smile stretching over your lips as Maekar nodded and shifted his head to kiss your stomach.

You knew the topic was a sensitive one for your husband, but that was quite alright. You had each other. 

Maekar pulled himself up with a sigh after a while, his arms encircling you as he craned his head down. You flushed with little embarrassment before you shifted your neck and kissed him, your hands flat against his chest as he ran his own over your back. 

“Unfortunately, I must see to my duties, my lady.” Maekar chuckled. You loved his natural laugh, even when it was paired with his oftentimes sardonic humor. 

“Well then I shan’t keep you. Although, I’d prefer it if you hurried back to me soon, my prince.” You replied in a soft whisper, your brows drawn and your eyes heavy lidded as you bat your lashes at him.

He laughed as he kissed you again, your breaths in sync as his lips retreated for a moment and quickly found yours again. When he pulled away he pinched your ass, a grin on his face as you gasped and slapped at his chest. 

His absence hurt within you when he finally left, that was the only terrible thing about Maekar, your hands stroking over the evidence of your aching love for him. You oftentimes wondered if this was how things were always meant to be, your heart alight as you pictured how your babe might look. You hoped it would look like Maekar.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Maekar slept in until midday the next day, which was so unlike him that even his children seemed worried for him. You told them all that he felt an ache in his head from all of the horse riding in the rain, but you knew otherwise. If you could’ve slept in as well, you would have. 

Your legs trembled as you climbed the stairs up to the second floor, your hips shaking as you paused for a breath on the landing. You scarcely remembered how long you and Maekar had had sex for, but the exhaustion of it was triple what you felt on a typical morning afterwards. Even Baelor never made you ache this way, though you would never admit that to Maekar. 

His pride was already much too high in the times you admitted he was the best you’d ever had at something. Though, he usually was. 

The thought disappeared from your mind when you entered your chambers, your eyes flitting around until you found Maekar near the bookcase. He looked as though he’d just awoken a little bit ago, his robe halfway open and his hair still sticking up in choice places.

“Maekar, my love, did you sleep well?” You asked when he turned to look at you, a pleasured worn look in his eyes. He seemed well rested at the very least, though you could tell he was still shaking off the arms of slumber herself.

“Hmm.. well what do you consider well?” He replied sarcastically, a bashful smile playing on your lips as you approached him and looped your arms around his waist. 

“I would consider it being fucked so well it put you to sleep.” You replied almost as sardonically as he, a low and snide snicker erupting from his chest as his hands came to rest on your ass. 

Maekar only replied by leaning down to kiss you, your affectionate exchange delayed and drawn on too long for a proper end. You were almost tempted to let him take you on the floor, your eyelids low as you smiled up at him.

“Your children have been asking for you.” You said as he pulled away from you, your eyes following him as he flopped down against the armchair and spread his legs to get comfortable.

“They’ve fared this long without me, I think they may wait another few hours.” He grumbled as you stared at him. 

There was a distinct aggravated expression in his eyes, one you knew well to mean that he was angry about something. Perhaps you could coax the information from him, but you doubted he would budge if you said anything.

You replied only by stepping forward towards him, your shoes coming off easily as you lifted your skirts and climbed onto his lap. His hands found your waist easily, and you grabbed his cheeks and kissed him before he could speak. If you could fix everything with Maekar with the simple act of fucking him each time he was upset, then mayhaps you truly did get lucky.

“What’s gotten into you lately?” Maekar asked as he leant his head back against the chair, your hands caressing his exposed chest slowly as you smiled coyly.

“Nothing.” You said with a shake of your head, your body shifting to embrace him when he grabbed your waist and pushed you back. 

Confused, your hands covered his, your brows furrowed as he smiled at you. The curl of his lips was almost like the sneer of a dragon, a nervousness filling you as you glanced across the room to where your vanity sat still. 

“Don’t lie to me.” Maekar said lowly as he breathed out, anger deep within his voice but not yet exposed. 

“Whatever do you mean?” You said, trying to be firm, your efforts to brush his hands away gone in vain as you were pushed off his lap. 

Maekar stood tall as you stepped back from the chair, his figure stalking around you as he paced in front of the window. You were beginning to feel anger spark within you as he shook his head and said something low in Valyrian. Was he meaning to accuse you of something? Or was he being paranoid again?

“You’re being ridiculous, Maekar. You can’t just say something like that and then walk away.” You spoke up as you watched him pause in front of the table near the stained glass. The flowers within it were deep red amaryllis’s, the trumpet of the plant dark like blood. 

“Am I being ridiculous?” Maekar scoffed as he looked at you over his shoulder, a hateful sneer to his eyes. “You tell me how I’m meant to feel when my wife thieves from me.” 

Your stomach erupted into a deep dreadful heat, and you froze before you stepped back with a fake courage. How long had he been awake? Long enough to get curious and plan this? Did he mean to lie only to get you to admit to something?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You declared with a glare, your hand curling into a trembling fist as he whipped around and looked at you.

Maekar didn’t speak as he moved over to the table near the armchair, his hand moving quickly as he ripped open the singular drawer and pulled something out. You jumped when he flung the rolled up paper and book onto the low long table in front of the loveseat, the objects sliding across the wood until they lost momentum and stopped before the edge.

You almost wanted to throw up as your eyes took in the familiar items. You were sure that you’d put them back in your vanity the last time you’d taken them out, but now you didn’t know. 

Had you left them laying out somewhere? Had he been curious when you became nervous about him being near your things? 

“Tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about now, I dare you to.” His voice raised and you fought everything in you not to let the stinging in your throat reach your eyes.

You thought you had made everything alright, no, you were sure you had made it alright. This had to have been something someone else schemed. Did someone overhear your conversations with Mya? Or did Mya herself tell Maekar? You didn’t want to consider that.

“Alright I took them from your study. What else do you want me to say?” You snapped back at him, the need to cry pushed down by the need to cover your ass.

You could tell the admission only made him angrier by the way his eyes flared, his arms tensing as he stepped towards you. You’d never argued like this with Baelor, but you had also never kept any secrets from him either. 

“How long have you known? How long have you been lying to me?” Maekar growled at you, like a loyal dog suddenly turned on its owner.

“Does it matter? You’ve lied to me this entire time. Both you and Baelor.” You sneered, your hands shaking now as your heart began to pound.

“Don’t you bring him into this.” He shouted as he stalked closer, his voice making your muscles tremble. 

You only felt angrier as he said it, as if the idea of both he and Baelor hiding this from you was no great grievance for you. You had all the right to be angry, only you. 

“Oh, don’t I? You seem to forget that he kept this from me throughout our entire marriage.” You yelled louder, your voice wavering as your breaths became thinner. “I had every right to know about this, and he never told me because he was protecting you.”

Maekar lurched forward to grab your shoulders and you shoved him away with all your might, your sight blurring as searing tears bubbled in your eyes. You wanted to throw everything in your sight at him, but you could only manage to push him away. 

“He didn’t need to protect me. He decided that on his own.” Maekar snarled, his voice faltering as though the memory of his brother burned him. 

“He only decided it because he knew just how weak you are. What kind of pathetic excuse of a man tells his brother he loves his wife?” You screamed, your hands hitting Maekar’s chest again when he tried to come closer to you. “You didn’t even have the courage to tell me before you married me. You couldn’t even write to me after I miscarried. So you tell me what I was supposed to do? Was I just supposed to sit around and wait for you to come home and fuck me? You have no idea what it was like to be bedridden and alone while you were off galavanting with your brothers. You weren’t even made Hand, and you still couldn’t come home to me then.” 

He said nothing as you yelled at him, his eyes reddening as you cried and pushed him away again, the vase upon the table crashing against the floor as you threw it at him half blind with tears. You wanted to strangle him then, you wanted to take him away just as he took Baelor from you.  

“You think things were any easier for me? I had to watch my own brother flaunt the woman I loved around just because he could. Do you know what that does to a man? To be second at everything, even your own marriages. You think I don’t know you wish I was Baelor when we’re together, fuck, I had to listen to you call for him when it was me whom you lay with. Do you think I don’t understand what it’s like to grieve for someone? I loved you first and yet you still refuse to see that.” Maekar cursed as threw the Valyrian love story at him, the book bouncing off the wall and sliding under the couch. 

“It wouldn’t matter if you loved me in a past life, you’ll still never be him. You’ll never be Baelor because you’re so fucking pitiful. You disgust me each time we lay together because I may as well be fucking a two faced mongrel. I want to crawl out of my own skin every time you touch me because you’re a walking death. You kill everything you touch. Baelor, Valarr, Matarys, your father, Dyanna, even our baby. So fuck you.” 

Maekar looked enraged by the mention of his family and Dyanna, but the baby, the only good thing that had come from your union, was far too much. With that Maekar surged forward, his hands grabbing at your arms as you struggled, tears streaming down your cheeks as you bucked against him, your free arm swinging as your hand hit his face.

The crack of the slap echoed throughout the room, and the pain that blossomed over your palm sobered you up enough to wretch yourself free of his grip. Maekar cupped his face with his hand as he looked at you, his light skin reddening as you stood there and sucked in deep breaths. 

“Is that it then? Nothing I can do will ever please you because you refuse to accept the fact that Baelor is gone, is that it?” Maekar said as his hand fell away from his face, his cheek a terrible blister red. “You think I don’t wish it was me who suffered that strike on the tourney field? You think I don’t wish I had died in his stead? I could apologize to you for the rest of my life and it would still not be enough. You think that doesn’t wound me? If I could trade places with my brother then I would.” 

You hiccuped loudly as he stared at you, his eyes wet as he stood there, his shoulders hunched and his body half the man you knew him to be. It made your heart sting and you hated yourself for it.

“Why?” You demanded to know, your voice shaken and your breaths trembling.

“Because I love you.” He shouted at you, your feet shuffling back. “Is that what you want me to say? Had I said that a year ago you would have thrown it back in my face.”

“Because you’re lying.” You yelled, your anger swelling again within you.

“I’m not. You think I’d choose to torture myself with these feeling I harbor for you? To watch you marry my brother, of all people, and have a child with him, and be happy, all while I starved for you, I would never do that willingly.” Maekar’s voice was completely shaken now, his face red as he shook his head.

“I wish I could make you feel as whole as you felt with Baelor, but I can’t do that if you don’t want me to. I would do anything you want if you simply asked it of me. I would jog to the Wall and back, for you. I would fight a hundred of me, for you. If it’s solitude you want then I’ll build you a castle of your own. If it’s my life then I’d gladly fall on a sword. Anything you want and I’d give it to you, my wealth, my time, my love. I can’t bring back our babe, but I’d give you a hundred more of them if it would make you happy. I would do anything just to make you smile. Just tell me what it is you want from me.”

He was crying, you could see it even as you wiped at the tears that dripped from your eyes. He was almost entirely exasperated, his hand rubbing over his face as he sniffed. 

The sight of him crying for you, begging for you, made a cry crack open from your chest, your heart pounding as you wavered in your step. You couldn’t even hear your own sobbing as your heart beat into your ears, Maekar’s body meeting yours as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

“Get away from me.” You croaked as you pushed against his chest, your arms weak as he wiped away tears from your face in vain. “Why can’t you just let me hate you?” 

You cried until all you could make were dry mournful sobs, your face damp even as Maekar wiped at it, his skin warm. You hiccuped as he brushed his nose against yours, your fingers digging into the flesh of his chest.

“I don’t understand, Maekar. I don’t understand why it had to be me. Why me?” You asked as you sniffled, your head shaking as you tipped your head low, Maekar’s cheek pressing against the crown of your head. 

Had your arms not been a wedge between the both of you, perhaps you might’ve allowed him to embrace you. That idea felt as wrong as it did right, the turmoil of it all swirling within you uncomfortably. 

“I wish I could tell you.” He muttered against your hair, his voice unnaturally soft and quiet. 

There were many things that he could not do, and many things he could. You hated yourself for acknowledging the fact that he had been so vulnerable towards you, because in all of your years with Baelor, he had never made those admissions. You didn’t even know who Baelor was anymore, and even as Maekar bore himself open for you, you still wanted more. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

High Valyrian Translation :

Kepa - Father/Paternal Uncle

Muña - Mother

Ao pirtir - You lie/You fake

Notes : whew that was a lot. I know it might seem like a short chapter but next one is going to be longer, but chapter 8 is going to remain the longest out of all of them - though I can’t yet speak for the epilogues. I'll mention here that I actually had a different scene before the fight planned to happen that would've added some length to the chapter, but I scrapped it because it'll be going in the next chapter.

Side Notes : i lowkey cooked on that fight guys, like okay woah, transcending the game.