#drunkapple

[the last bit, got my gears turning. and my mind went somewhere interesting, though it's a little different than what you asked… I think you'll like it 🤭 I accidentally rarepairpilled myself in the process]

Maekar was a good mother. sure, he struggled to be soft, at times. struggled with talking from the heart. he was a good mother. he made sure all his pups were well fed and nurtured from his breast for years and years. always well cleaned and kept. dressed well. trained and educated. given the best. always the best.

so when it came to mates… he wanted the same. the best. his pups deserved it. and maybe… he deserved that one mercy for all the years he raised his little ones. each of them finding a nice, respectable, perfect mate he could call his son or daughter as well.

this was especially true for Daeron. his first born. where to start with him…

he had presented quite young, an Alpha. but his scent weak. his presentation weak. always had been. then Dyanna died, and a few nights missing in Flea Bottom had him returning smelling too sweet… not quite bitched. but damage had been done. a weak spot carved out into something larger.

Maesters had their theories. tried their remedies. but it never changed much. he was sweeter on his little siblings then one would expect. not in a brotherly way, but nearly a motherly one. which went against the instincts he should have.

his scent was deep and musky, yet a sweetness tangled in it. he purred as often as he growled. he was… the way that he was.

Maekar's hope was that if he found a nice omega, it would straighten things out in his firstborn. realign his instincts. strengthen his presentation. all the things a good mother should hope for. it's for his boy's sake after all. and he should be allowed to want a good heir.

he tries for years to find one he feels confident in. that Daeron likes. but it seems hopeless. none bring out any sort of reaction from his son. romantic or instinctual. and eventually Maekar gives it a rest. Daeron is still young. maybe a few more years of growing will sort him out….

so he is unbetrothed by the time they reach Ashford. which is a nightmare from beginning to end. the cherry on top being the fact that Daeron finally finds himself an omega some tiny branch of a tiny apple tree.

Raymun. Fucking. Fossoway.

the man needs to take several, several, deep breaths.

Raymun Fossoway. that is the omega that captured Daeron's heart. or, as his son tells him, "I believe I stole him first."

apparently, in the mess that had been this godsforsaken tourney, the omega had spotted Daeron's soft instincts towards Egg. they had met once in the beginning. in some tent. and Daeron had been himself about Aegon, soothing and scenting on the pup. keeping him sat close. all things omega's are expected to do. and when an omega sees someone who smells like an alpha being that gentle with a little pup, well… it's something that tends to get a fire brewing in the belly.

and Daeron said the omega had been cute, keeping Egg from throwing himself between Daeron and that towering Alpha, Dunk, during a scuffle they had. scolding the alpha, even if he was truly harmless, for a long moment, threatening his manhood if he ever put a pup in danger again, before letting the conversation continue.

Daeron had found it endearing. they were both endeared. they were protective over the same little Egg. Daeron liked big brown eyes, Raymun seemed to be caught on his shaking red-violet ones. they'd locked passing stares on one another more then once in the chaos.

and one thing led to another. the omega had come to him after the trial. finding him as he staggered away from the Maesters. they were lonely. needed company they didn't have. both need to be drunk. and confessions spill.

Raymun hated Targaryen's… but a gentle sweet-smelling alpha was rare. and… Daeron didn't seem all that bad. and Daeron admitted that being Targaryen had never been much of a gift to him— though he skimps the details on this with his mother —only brought him nightmares and duties he did not want to fulfill. limits in who he could try to court.

and maybe they fall together. the drunk and the green apple, all but disowned from his own house as of late.

and Maekar… is surely going to have a stroke. because Raymun Fossoway has his son's hand in his, and Daeron is asking to be betrothed. to a Fossoway.

this sweet… chubby cheeked… big, gentle, brown eyed… pup of a man.

oh it's very hard to hate him. he isn't dislikeable. a little simple. a little quick to say something a little foolish. but he's brave. good-hearted. good-natured. he was clearly protective of pups, even one he met moments prior. Egg was singing his praise (he's Daeron's wingman. and Maekar is no fool).

but Daeron is happy. and his scent is stronger. and Maekar knows his tells, he seems more… balanced. and… fuck him. having two, make that three, pairs of sad eyes staring at him. he can't even say no.

because he's a good mother. and good mothers want their sons to be happy. and Daeron could have picked worse. at least Raymun was of a house at all.

and maybe having a simple omega who really only thought about pups and marriage and his silly cider orchard was nice…. here and there he could learn to live with it.

especially cause Raymun never questioned what was "wrong" with Daeron. or why it took them three years to have a babe. or why he was never a traditional alpha.

and he kept Daeron from wandering and drinking... so Raymun Fossoway could stay.