you seem pretty sad for a girl so thirsty

Baelor Targaryen  

You snuck through the door and into Baelor’s room earlier than you usually would have, smiling brightly when you spotted him standing by the hearth, pouring himself a cup of wine. He was still clad in the day’s clothes, not yet changed into something far more comfortable (or nothing at all if you had any say in it). You wore only your nightgown under your robes, not seeing any need to bother with the pretence of dresses anymore, and quickly hopped up to where he stood, wrapping your arms around him from behind. He tensed a little, for less than a moment, before he realised it was you, and seemed to melt into your arms. 

“This is rather early for you,” he mumbled, setting his cup of wine down and turning in your arms to wrap you up against his chest. He pressed his face to the top of your head, inhaling the smell of your hair then pressing gentle kisses to it. 

“I could not bear to wait a moment longer. I have not seen you nearly enough today,” you mumbled against his chest, burrowing there happily and inhaling his warm scent in return. You felt properly coccooned against him, eyes dark against the fabric of his doublet, wrapped up in his thick, muscular arms. 

“Patience is a virtue, dearest,” he replied teasingly, though there was no real bite to it, just the feeling of his lips moving against your head, and you only sighed in his hold, finally feeling at peace. 

“I have none where it concerns you, Father,” you returned, pressing a blunt kiss to his chest before pulling back. “And anyway, it does not matter, for we can be alone now.” You smiled cheekily at that, stretching your arms out between you where you still held his hand. Baelor smiled and chuckled and nodded, reaching back with his free hand for his cup of wine and taking a long sip before saying “that we can.” 

You were quick to shirk off your robe, leaving it where it fell and then heading for his large four poster bed, your favourite place in the entire castle. You moved slowly, sensually, glancing back at him over your shoulder as you reached the end of his bed and climbed on, sticking your arse up in the air as you crawled across it. 

Baelor watched you from a distance, watched keenly. Your nightgown was a scrap of clothing, a pale blue silk shift held only by straps at your shoulders. When you crawled across the bed he was offered tantalising peeks of your thighs and the crease between, everything shadowed and far too enticing for a man to resist. 

Baelor took another long drink from his cup of wine and watched you with dark, hooded eyes. One of his hands came up and began unclasping his doublet, and he licked his lips for the remnants of the wine. When you reached the middle of his bed, you turned to face him then sat back on your heels, the picture of politeness, hands on your knees and the hem of your nightgown scrunched just a little under them. 

“Is that a new nightdress, dearest?” He asked, voice low, and your stomach fluttered. You nodded, chewing on your lip, then tugged on one of the straps teasingly before running a hand down your front and along the silky fabric. 

“It is, Father,” you responded, slightly breathless. The mere look in his eyes, the overwhelming focus and heat, had you trembling, your nipples pebbled tightly and poking through the flimsy fabric. “The current Lyseni style, I believe.” 

Baelor hummed, finally putting down his cup of wine and then removing his doublet, first taking a few steps back to deposit it on a chair by the hearth, then slowly making his way over to the bed. He kicked off his boots just as he reached the edge, then began undoing the laces of his trousers, all while his eyes remained solely focused on you and the hurried up and down of your chest as you panted like a dog. 

You moved forward a little then, just until you reached the edge of the bed and you could grasp the hem of his tunic, hurriedly pulling it up to expose the soft tan skin of his belly, the firm lines of his chest and the greying hair that smattered him all over. When it was successfully tossed off of him, you ran a palm up his torso, feeling along the warm muscles, the scars and the slight softness that came with age. 

Baelor reached forward and cupped your cheek, dragging your face up to his own so he could kiss you feverishly, sticking his tongue between your lips and tasting you like the wine he had drunk only moments previously. 

“Father,” you panted, desperate now, and he happily obliged, bringing one knee up and clambering onto the bed. You shoved at the waistband of his trousers and he began gathering up the hem of your gown. You were two feverish bodies, ready to devour one another. You were already shiny and sticky with sweat when he lay his body atop yours, and it only worsened with the firm heat of him. 

His cock prodded between your legs, patiently waiting as he dragged his fingers through the wetness at your core. You whined and keened as he pressed his fingertips to the sensitive flesh, as he rubbed your nub and dipped inside of you. He took the same hand to his cock, tugging on it once with a grunt then pressing it to your entrance. Your lips remained locked the entire time, mouths melding in a wet press, saliva smearing, the hot taste of wine in both your mouths. 

Your nails dug into the firm muscles of his shoulders, one of his hands ran up your thigh, grasped it tightly until his blunt nails dug into the soft flesh, then hiked it up to hook over his hip. The same hand traversed upward to your hip, grasping you tightly there and holding you against him as he finally sheathed his entire cock inside you with a shuddering breath. His other palm worked its way under your back, smoothing it up until it curled over the opposite shoulder and held you tight to him, possessed you to him, controlled you under him. 

“Father,” you managed to pant, tossing your head back at the fullness inside you, at the relentless pulsing and hot pleasure. You clenched your eyes shut, pressed your face forward into his shoulder and chest, breathed him in and felt the hair on his pectoral under your cheek and forehead. You were practically curled up into him. 

“Yes, dearest,” he panted, “yes.” 

Baelor began moving his hips, rolling motions that pulled him out a little then somehow pressed him even deeper than before. His pelvis crushed your throbbing nub and sent jolts through you. His chest rubbed at your nipples and you sparked there too. The two of you were reduced to nonverbal creatures, moaning and groaning, panting and pawing at each other. So of course it made sense that neither of you heard the door opening. 

“Father, I cannot fathom-” Valarr stopped as if he had walked into a wall. He stared at the heap on the bed, the moving mass of limbs. He was spared the sight of his father’s bare arse only because the sheet Baelor had pulled over the both of you had not slipped that far down yet. But he saw Baelor’s back, shiny with sweat and bare, his broad shoulders curled around the body under him, slowly rising as he pushed up and turned his head back to face the intruder. Then he saw you, or rather your head rising as well, just behind (well, actually, under) his father. 

“Seven hells,” Valarr spat, then swiftly turned around before tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. He blinked exaggeratedly, as if he could blink the sight away, but nothing worked. “Seven fucking hells.” 

Baelor pulled you tighter up against him, ensuring his body covered your own completely before deigning to turn his head back to glance in the direction of his son who was muttering agitatedly to himself. 

“Seven fucking hells! How could you forget to lock the door? It is an invention made precisely for such moments!” Valarr pressed a hand to his face, rubbing at his eyes and shaking his head furiously. “This was a sight I wished never to see.” 

Baelor exhaled against the top of your head, feeling something he did not often feel: wrongfooted. 

“What is it that you need, my son?” He asked, voice slightly awkward as he cleared his throat and twisted his head back and forth between Valarr and the wall above the bed. 

“To bring fire to my eyes to cleanse them of this,” Valarr spat sarcastically, sighing and staring at the door directly in front of him. “We’ve received a raven from Storm’s End but for the life of me I cannot decipher Lord Baratheon’s handwriting. It would not be the first time he has sent us drunken gibberish.” Baelor sighed, rubbing his free hand over his eyes as his brow began to furrow once more. “But clearly that does not matter anymore,” Valarr continued. 

“Yes, I suppose so,” Baelor sighed, dropping his head against your shoulder and shaking it as you began to squirm under him, huffing quietly. 

“Valarr?” Your voice finally sounded, a little muffled and strained as you attempted to poke your head up over Baelor’s shoulder. 

“Yes?” He answered in a clipped tone, still frowning immensely at the horrendous predicament. 

“Might you leave and shut the door behind you? Father and I are attending to important matters,” you spoke sweetly, as if you were in Baelor’s study and helping him with correspondence when Valarr had burst in, not openly bedding him. 

“Lea- leave and shut the door?!” He exhaled exasperatedly, almost turning back around before remembering what he might witness. “He is my father! The matters we discuss are of far more import than your constant bedding! For seven’s sake.” 

You scoffed in return, huffing and falling back onto the bed, wrapping your arms around Baelor’s torso and dragging him down on top of you. You pressed your face to his chest and nuzzled there with a pout. Baelor sighed, shaking his head at the two of you, then dropped his head to press a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Might you not bicker?” He sighed out, glancing between you two before pulling out of you with a muffled grunt and rolling onto the mattress beside you. He pulled up the sheet to cover you up to your shoulders, then ran a hand over his face. “I am sure Lord Baratheon has simply sent a drunken raven for no reason once more. If it is important, there will be another to follow with legible handwriting.” Baelor settled himself a little higher against the cushions then raised his eyebrow to Valarr’s back. “Will that be all my son? For now I must echo the dear girl’s sentiments and ask you to leave us.” 

Valarr scoffed indignantly at that but threw his hands up in surrender. 

“Gladly! I have already been altered for the rest of my life against my wishes due to this sight,” he grumbled all the way to the door. Just before he opened it, hand on the doorknob, he turned his head just slightly to address the both of you again. “And mind you lock the door behind me this time, lest you send someone else to an early grave.” With that final parting shot, Valarr left and slammed the door behind him, enraged and mortified in equal measure as he walked away. 

Baelor sighed and shook his head, but you simply pressed your hands to your face and began to giggle. You peeked out from between your fingers in Baelor’s direction to find that now he too was smiling, a huffing chuckle falling from his lips at the sight of you. 

“We may never hear the end of it,” you finally sighed, running a hand through your hair. Baelor hummed in agreement, leaning down and gently guiding your chin to face him, kissing your lips softly and pushing your hair out of your face. “Hm,” you hummed happily into the kiss, “but I suppose that does not mean we cannot finish what we started!” Then with a gleeful sound, you jumped onto him.

Maekar Targaryen 

You sighed long and low, an exaggeratedly pathetic sound, the sort of sigh a dog would make when denied pets from its master. When Maekar continued writing at his desk without even lifting his head in your direction, you turned onto your other side and sighed again, even longer and louder this time, throwing a hand to your forehead and stretching even more on the chaise. It was your favourite spot to prostrate yourself in his study, your favourite spot to spend hours reading or simply staring at Maekar, and of course, your favourite spot to bother him from. At the second sigh you saw his jaw twitch with annoyance and he finally looked up at you, one of his eyebrows raising, his quill near snapping from how tight he gripped it. 

“What?” He asked through clenched teeth, “why are you sighing like that?” 

“I have been so neglected today,” you sighed out dramatically, throwing your head back even more, fluttering your eyes and affecting a pathetic pout. 

You were laid comfortably along the chaise, your head resting against a lusciously stuffed cushion. You wore a beautiful dress of pink cotton and chiffon, simply ornamented, and looked the picture of calm repose. But of course, you could not let peace last long in your vicinity, especially not where Maekar was concerned. 

Maekar dropped his head and a whoosh of air left his nose. He clenched his eyes shut and rubbed at his temples before asking the question he knew would derail his afternoon and indulge you just as you wanted. “In what way have you been fucking neglected?” 

You sat up a little at that, leaning onto your elbows on the plush seat, and huffed, your pout exaggerating further. 

“You have not kissed me once since this morning! If that is not a vicious sort of neglect then I do not know what is.” You tutted and shook your head, pursing your lips in disappointment. 

Instead of his usual gruff and grumbling response, Maekar’s face softened a little. Something almost like a smile appeared to tug at his lips and he stood from his chair with a groan. He walked over to you, cupping your chin with a large and calloused hand before tugging it up until your head was craned slightly. He bent down and dragged his lips over yours in a soft kiss. He descended for another, humming against your mouth at the taste of the cherries you had slowly been devouring in the heat of the afternoon. 

“For once you are right,” he murmured against you, “it is disappointing how little I have taken the opportunity to quiet you.” You made an indignant ‘mmph’ sound against his mouth, preparing to pull back to argue, but Maekar simply smirked and continued kissing you until the notion disappeared from your mind. 

His palm was warm where it now cupped your cheek, a lovely weight on the side of your face. Though his back began to ache where he bent to kiss you, he could not stop. You reached up and cupped the back of his neck in return, ensuring that he did not stray far from your mouth. You kissed him until you were breathless and then some, your eyes becoming heavy and your body pliable in the way it did when he focused all of his attention on you. 

Maekar pressed forward until he was draped on top of you on the chaise, his heavy body resting along yours, coccooning you in the way that you loved. He slid his hand around and gripped you by the back of the neck as he devoured your mouth, the pace quickening. You pulled back and panted, looking up at him with hooded eyes and kiss-bitten lips. 

You stood swiftly from the chaise before guiding him to sit. You kissed him in quick little bursts as you reached down and began undoing the laces of his trousers. He growled a little under his breath but allowed you to fumble there as he reached around you to the back of your dress and quickly tugged those laces open. You felt the gown loosen around your chest and begin to slip down, but before it could actually expose you, you dragged your skirts up your legs and sat down heavily onto Maekar’s lap. 

“Please, Father,” you begged, clutching his face between both your hands and pressing swift kisses along his cheeks and nuzzling at his beard. He breathed heavily and reached down into the space hidden by the skirts of your dress, where his cock poked out of his trousers and your legs, already bare of your smallclothes, spread open around his waist and thighs. 

“This fucking thing,” he grumbled at the mass of your skirts, and you refrained from poking at him further that this dress was simpler than other ones he had conquered to fuck you. He managed to focus enough to press his cock to your entrance, already wet with your desperation, and then brought both hands to grip your hips tightly. He began pressing you down onto him as you lay your mouth against his. The two of you panted against each other’s lips as your heat sunk down tightly around his throbbing cock. 

“Father!” You keened, eyes clenched shut, body twitching. 

“That’s it, girl,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist and bending his head to begin kissing at your throat and chest. He quickly reached up and yanked your neckline down to expose your breasts before returning his arms to your waist, grasping your behind in both hands and helping you begin to move up and down. 

He kissed and bit at your breasts, licked your nipples and rolled them between his teeth, satisfied moans and grunts pressing out into the plush flesh of your chest. You whined and moaned, dropping your face against the top of his head and moving your hips, up and down, backwards and forwards, anything that pressed his pelvis against your nub and dragged his cock deliciously inside you. You panted and mumbled ‘father’ over and over, mouthed at his temple and cheek, and simply felt the press of his fingers against your behind. 

Neither of you heard the door open until it was too late, until Aerion was already inside and glaring at you in disgust. “Fucking hells,” he spat, shaking his head and looking up to the ceiling. 

You jumped in Maekar’s arms, eyes widening, before you realised it was Aerion. Then your face contorted into a scowl and you let out a loud ‘ugh!’ in annoyance. Why did he always have to ruin your fun?! 

Maekar’s head snapped up at the intrusion, his arm wrapping around you, ready to hold you close and fight if necessary, but when he realised it was only Aerion, he too rolled his eyes and began to scowl, huffing in annoyance. 

“Is this what you do in your study all day, Father?” Aerion taunted, face still twisted up in disgust. “Are you not supposed to be a prince of the realm?” 

Maekar scoffed and clenched his jaw, his hand tightening at your waist as he glared down his son. 

“Someone must satisfy your wife, boy, and if you cannot uphold your duty then your father must step in,” Maekar answered through gritted teeth, glaring at Aerion before leaning back against the chaise and taking you with him. You were still pouting and huffy. 

Aerion let out an indignant sound at that, glancing down to glare at his Father before averting his eyes once more with another disgusted sneer. 

“What is it that you needed, husband?” You finally snapped, craning your head back to glare at him in return. “You can clearly see that Father and I are busy, and your face is ruining my mood.” 

“You are an insolent creature,” Aerion bit out, and you gasped, mouth opening and ready to fight, but Maekar’s hand shot up and clamped your jaw shut. 

“Do not speak to her that way,” Maekar ordered Aerion, shooting him a harsh look before returning his eyes to you, “and you do not antagonise him unnecessarily.” You mumbled a ‘it was necessary’ through squished lips, but did not continue to argue. “Now what is it? Spit it out quickly and be off.” 

“You are required to oversee some useless dispute between peasants or some such,” Aerion waved his hand in the air as if it was of no consequence, but Maekar sighed tiredly and dropped his head against your chest in dismay. You ran a hand through his hair then frowned at Aerion. 

“Tell them that Father is busy and he will come to deal with their petty disagreements later,” you ordered, waving him off like you were attempting to send away a fly. The young man just glared at you, jaw set as he waited for his father to answer him. 

“I do not take orders from you, woman,” Aerion spat, looking at Maekar instead. 

“Well, I will only tell you the fucking same,” Maekar bit out. “Tell them to attempt to solve the dispute on their own once more like grown fucking men or they will not enjoy it if I am to step in.” 

Aerion hmph-ed but nodded, clicking his tongue. 

“Now if you’re done interrupting me, get the fuck out,” Maekar waved him off, and just as Aerion reached the door added, “someone has to satisfy your wife.” 

Aerion’s jaw popped with how hard he clenched it, slamming the door behind him to the sound of your high-pitched giggles turning into a long-dragged out moan.

“You little monkey!” The high pitched shout echoed through the halls to the solar in which Baelor worked diligently alongside his brother. 

Maekar and his brood had come to Kingslanding upon Baelor’s own behest. It was to be his wife’s nameday in a few day’s time, and though the occasion did not usually necessitate such a grand visit, Baelor knew how fond his wife was of her younger nieces and nephews, and he himself would take any excuse to see his brother again. 

Maekar looked up and met Baelor’s questioning eyes, his own eyebrow raising at the commotion. The sound of running feet echoed distantly, the slapping of boots and slippers on stone, and the loud mischievous laugh of Maekar’s youngest son followed by your own girlish giggle. 

“You can’t catch me!” Egg called, the shout closer than before, and Maekar sighed, dropping his head with a shake, pressing his hand to his face. But Baelor only smiled, feeling a deep satisfaction at having the Keep so full of joyful noise. 

Just as both men began to turn back to their work, the door burst open and a little bald head came rushing in. Egg skidded to a stop right in the centre of the solar, just shy of tripping over the edge of the rug, and stared wide eyed at both his father and uncle. Maekar was already scowling, one eyebrow rising dangerously, and though his uncle’s eyebrow mirrored it, he was far more amused than anything else. 

Before anyone could say anything, the sound of hurried footsteps along the corridor reached them, and Egg jumped into action once more, rushing towards Baelor and rounding his desk just as you came sprinting through the open door. 

You were a windswept vision. Your hair flew about and remained relatively contained only because of the intricate braids you kept. Your face was shiny, cheeks puffed from exertion, but your eyes were bright and alive, your face alight with the most beautiful smile. 

“There you are! You silly silly goose!” You exclaimed, walking into the solar with a loud laugh. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Maekar grumbled, glancing between his son (who was peeking out from behind Baelor’s chair with a bright smile and mischievous eyes) and his sister-in-law (who was pointing accusingly at his son). 

“The little rascal and I were playing a lovely game of cyvasse - which I was winning might I add - when he swept all the pieces up into his arms and ran off!” 

“You can’t win if there are no pieces!” Egg exclaimed, giggling brightly and hiding behind Baelor’s chair once more. He clutched the edge of his tunic up against his chest, creating a little pouch where many of the game pieces now resided (though many had also fallen along the way as he ran). 

Baelor leaned back in his seat, settling comfortably as he watched you with a loving smile. You offered him one in return, blowing him a kiss before refocusing on Egg. 

“That is called cheating!” You accused, pointing a finger at him as you moved forward to block his possible path around the other side of the desk. Egg only leaned around the side of Baelor’s chair and stuck his tongue out at you, giggling once more when you let out an exaggerated gasp and labelled him insolent. 

“She is right, Aegon,” Baelor finally said, “it is cheating to steal away the pieces.” But before Egg could respond, Baelor reached around his chair with both hands and grasped onto the little boy. He dug his fingers into his sides, and though the angle was awkward, tickled the boy mercilessly. 

“Uncle!” Egg yelled, squirming and squealing as he attempted to escape Baelor’s relentless grasp. You exclaimed triumphantly and quickly ran forward to join the onslaught, wrapping one arm around the boy and using the other hand to tickle at his stomach and ribs. All the pieces fell from his tunic and clattered on the floor, but the boy was too busy attempting to evade the hands grasping at him. 

Maekar watched silently from the other side of Baelor’s desk. Though he did not smile overtly, there was something soft in his face. He watched Baelor smile as he leant around the side of his chair to watch you with Egg, he watched how his brother beamed at you and the boy. He watched how you wrapped Egg up in a hug and how your laughter flowed freely, how your smile was as bright as his brother’s. And he saw Egg, sweet little Egg who remained an absolute nuisance to his father, but looked so full of joy now. He had not seen Egg so free, so relaxed and… happy. He had not seen his boy happy in so long. 

The scene reminded Maekar of his own youth, of all the moments spent playing with Baelor before they were both grown. He remembered such moments with Baelo when one chased the other through the halls of the Keep, or when Baelor was merciless with his ticklish onslaught, only yielding when Maekar had gone red in the face and could neither breathe nor speak. Those were some of the happiest memories Maekar possessed. 

“I yield! I yield!” Egg finally called, panting and breathless, curled in on himself to escape the onslaught. 

You and Baelor finally let go of the boy, the two of you falling into a heap beside Baelor’s chair, breathless and still laughing a little. You rubbed a hand over the top of Egg’s head and he shoved it away lightheartedly, slumping against the wall so he could catch his breath. 

Baelor reached down and gently pushed a sweaty strand of hair out of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb for a moment. You turned your head and kissed the inside of his palm without thinking about it, leaning your head into his hold and fluttering your eyes shut for a second before returning to the world around you. 

“You’ve tired me out so early in the day,” you huffed, mock-glaring at Egg. He let out a breathless laugh, shrugging as if it could not be helped, and you reached out and lightly flicked him on the arm. “Oh!” You perked up with an idea then, offering Egg a conspiratorial and mischievous smile. “I’ve had rather a good idea, why don’t you and I go sneak some cake from the kitchens? I’m quite sure they’ve been practicing for my nameday feast, no doubt they will have scraps to offer us.” 

Egg nodded enthusiastically then jumped up, practically buzzing with excitement again. He offered you a hand up, and you smiled kindly in thanks, taking one of his and the one that Baelor too offered you. You were careful to not step on the inside of your dress, and you petted the top of Egg’s head in thanks. The boy quickly made his way to the door but you remained at Baelor’s side. 

“Would you like some secret cake?” You asked your husband cheekily, and he only huffed a chuckle in response. Baelor draped his arm around your waist and dragged you a little closer to the chair he was sitting in. He tilted his head back to look up at you and his eyes shined with love. 

“I shall wait to enjoy it legally,” he answered teasingly, and you scoffed, murmuring about how he was no fun at all, but your smile betrayed you. You leaned down and cupped Baelor’s cheek, rubbing a little at the scruff of his beard, then gently pressed your lips to his, kissing him once and then twice until both of you were smiling into it and you could hear a grumble from Maekar and a loud “ew!” from Egg. 

“Kissing my husband is not ‘ew’,” you responded petulantly, draping one arm over Baelor’s shoulders and turning to look at Egg who stood behind his father and scowled at you. 

“Yes it is, you’re kissing my uncle. It’s disgusting,” he answered firmly, sneering a little. 

“It is not ‘disgusting’!” You exclaimed even louder, then just to annoy him, you leant down again and pressed another kiss to Baelor’s lips (who could only chuckle and lightly shake his head at your antics). 

“Eugh, it is,” Egg repeated once more, shaking his head and looking at you with exaggerated disdain. 

“The boy is right, it’s fucking disgusting,” Maekar grumbled, shaking his head and looking back down at his papers, but you scoffed and let out a sound of indignation. But you could see right through the grump and knew that he was happy to see his family happy. 

“I care not for your weak little constitutions,” you dismissed then, waving your hand in the air. “I will kiss my husband freely!” Baelor chuckled and patted your side, but Egg only stuck his tongue out at you, reaching for the door knob. 

“Come along Auntie!” He finally called, tiring of your teasing and desperate to get back on the mission for cake. “Or I shall go have it all for myself and tell them to give you none!” Then he rushed through the door with a giggle. You scoffed and smiled in disbelief at Baelor, laughing loudly. 

“The little rascal! He forgets that I am married to the Crown Prince, and that it is my nameday that the cake is being made for!” You smiled cheekily, pressed another kiss to Baelor’s cheek, then ran out after the boy, yelling something along the lines of “wait for me you cheeky monkey! I want raspberry jam with mine!”

“You little monkey!” The high pitched shout echoed through the halls to the solar in which Baelor worked diligently alongside his brother. 

Maekar and his brood had come to Kingslanding upon Baelor’s own behest. It was to be his wife’s nameday in a few day’s time, and though the occasion did not usually necessitate such a grand visit, Baelor knew how fond his wife was of her younger nieces and nephews, and he himself would take any excuse to see his brother again. 

Maekar looked up and met Baelor’s questioning eyes, his own eyebrow raising at the commotion. The sound of running feet echoed distantly, the slapping of boots and slippers on stone, and the loud mischievous laugh of Maekar’s youngest son followed by your own girlish giggle. 

“You can’t catch me!” Egg called, the shout closer than before, and Maekar sighed, dropping his head with a shake, pressing his hand to his face. But Baelor only smiled, feeling a deep satisfaction at having the Keep so full of joyful noise. 

Just as both men began to turn back to their work, the door burst open and a little bald head came rushing in. Egg skidded to a stop right in the centre of the solar, just shy of tripping over the edge of the rug, and stared wide eyed at both his father and uncle. Maekar was already scowling, one eyebrow rising dangerously, and though his uncle’s eyebrow mirrored it, he was far more amused than anything else. 

Before anyone could say anything, the sound of hurried footsteps along the corridor reached them, and Egg jumped into action once more, rushing towards Baelor and rounding his desk just as you came sprinting through the open door. 

You were a windswept vision. Your hair flew about and remained relatively contained only because of the intricate braids you kept. Your face was shiny, cheeks puffed from exertion, but your eyes were bright and alive, your face alight with the most beautiful smile. 

“There you are! You silly silly goose!” You exclaimed, walking into the solar with a loud laugh. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Maekar grumbled, glancing between his son (who was peeking out from behind Baelor’s chair with a bright smile and mischievous eyes) and his sister-in-law (who was pointing accusingly at his son). 

“The little rascal and I were playing a lovely game of cyvasse - which I was winning might I add - when he swept all the pieces up into his arms and ran off!” 

“You can’t win if there are no pieces!” Egg exclaimed, giggling brightly and hiding behind Baelor’s chair once more. He clutched the edge of his tunic up against his chest, creating a little pouch where many of the game pieces now resided (though many had also fallen along the way as he ran). 

Baelor leaned back in his seat, settling comfortably as he watched you with a loving smile. You offered him one in return, blowing him a kiss before refocusing on Egg. 

“That is called cheating!” You accused, pointing a finger at him as you moved forward to block his possible path around the other side of the desk. Egg only leaned around the side of Baelor’s chair and stuck his tongue out at you, giggling once more when you let out an exaggerated gasp and labelled him insolent. 

“She is right, Aegon,” Baelor finally said, “it is cheating to steal away the pieces.” But before Egg could respond, Baelor reached around his chair with both hands and grasped onto the little boy. He dug his fingers into his sides, and though the angle was awkward, tickled the boy mercilessly. 

“Uncle!” Egg yelled, squirming and squealing as he attempted to escape Baelor’s relentless grasp. You exclaimed triumphantly and quickly ran forward to join the onslaught, wrapping one arm around the boy and using the other hand to tickle at his stomach and ribs. All the pieces fell from his tunic and clattered on the floor, but the boy was too busy attempting to evade the hands grasping at him. 

Maekar watched silently from the other side of Baelor’s desk. Though he did not smile overtly, there was something soft in his face. He watched Baelor smile as he leant around the side of his chair to watch you with Egg, he watched how his brother beamed at you and the boy. He watched how you wrapped Egg up in a hug and how your laughter flowed freely, how your smile was as bright as his brother’s. And he saw Egg, sweet little Egg who remained an absolute nuisance to his father, but looked so full of joy now. He had not seen Egg so free, so relaxed and… happy. He had not seen his boy happy in so long. 

The scene reminded Maekar of his own youth, of all the moments spent playing with Baelor before they were both grown. He remembered such moments with Baelo when one chased the other through the halls of the Keep, or when Baelor was merciless with his ticklish onslaught, only yielding when Maekar had gone red in the face and could neither breathe nor speak. Those were some of the happiest memories Maekar possessed. 

“I yield! I yield!” Egg finally called, panting and breathless, curled in on himself to escape the onslaught. 

You and Baelor finally let go of the boy, the two of you falling into a heap beside Baelor’s chair, breathless and still laughing a little. You rubbed a hand over the top of Egg’s head and he shoved it away lightheartedly, slumping against the wall so he could catch his breath. 

Baelor reached down and gently pushed a sweaty strand of hair out of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb for a moment. You turned your head and kissed the inside of his palm without thinking about it, leaning your head into his hold and fluttering your eyes shut for a second before returning to the world around you. 

“You’ve tired me out so early in the day,” you huffed, mock-glaring at Egg. He let out a breathless laugh, shrugging as if it could not be helped, and you reached out and lightly flicked him on the arm. “Oh!” You perked up with an idea then, offering Egg a conspiratorial and mischievous smile. “I’ve had rather a good idea, why don’t you and I go sneak some cake from the kitchens? I’m quite sure they’ve been practicing for my nameday feast, no doubt they will have scraps to offer us.” 

Egg nodded enthusiastically then jumped up, practically buzzing with excitement again. He offered you a hand up, and you smiled kindly in thanks, taking one of his and the one that Baelor too offered you. You were careful to not step on the inside of your dress, and you petted the top of Egg’s head in thanks. The boy quickly made his way to the door but you remained at Baelor’s side. 

“Would you like some secret cake?” You asked your husband cheekily, and he only huffed a chuckle in response. Baelor draped his arm around your waist and dragged you a little closer to the chair he was sitting in. He tilted his head back to look up at you and his eyes shined with love. 

“I shall wait to enjoy it legally,” he answered teasingly, and you scoffed, murmuring about how he was no fun at all, but your smile betrayed you. You leaned down and cupped Baelor’s cheek, rubbing a little at the scruff of his beard, then gently pressed your lips to his, kissing him once and then twice until both of you were smiling into it and you could hear a grumble from Maekar and a loud “ew!” from Egg. 

“Kissing my husband is not ‘ew’,” you responded petulantly, draping one arm over Baelor’s shoulders and turning to look at Egg who stood behind his father and scowled at you. 

“Yes it is, you’re kissing my uncle. It’s disgusting,” he answered firmly, sneering a little. 

“It is not ‘disgusting’!” You exclaimed even louder, then just to annoy him, you leant down again and pressed another kiss to Baelor’s lips (who could only chuckle and lightly shake his head at your antics). 

“Eugh, it is,” Egg repeated once more, shaking his head and looking at you with exaggerated disdain. 

“The boy is right, it’s fucking disgusting,” Maekar grumbled, shaking his head and looking back down at his papers, but you scoffed and let out a sound of indignation. But you could see right through the grump and knew that he was happy to see his family happy. 

“I care not for your weak little constitutions,” you dismissed then, waving your hand in the air. “I will kiss my husband freely!” Baelor chuckled and patted your side, but Egg only stuck his tongue out at you, reaching for the door knob. 

“Come along Auntie!” He finally called, tiring of your teasing and desperate to get back on the mission for cake. “Or I shall go have it all for myself and tell them to give you none!” Then he rushed through the door with a giggle. You scoffed and smiled in disbelief at Baelor, laughing loudly. 

“The little rascal! He forgets that I am married to the Crown Prince, and that it is my nameday that the cake is being made for!” You smiled cheekily, pressed another kiss to Baelor’s cheek, then ran out after the boy, yelling something along the lines of “wait for me you cheeky monkey! I want raspberry jam with mine!”

When the wheelhouse stopped in Ashford, you were the first to get up and step out. The footman was just barely able to open the door and stand ready to help you. You ignored his hand and jumped down with a little hop (though you did offer him a little smile of thanks anyway). 

You were so happy to be free of that stuffy old thing, and though the courtyard of the Ashford Keep did not smell amazing, it was better than being cooped up in what was practically a cage on wheels. You had asked your father if you could ride on horseback as well, but he had simply scoffed and told you to get in the fucking carriage before he changed his mind and forced you to stay back. So, despite the aggressive little pout on your face that made Aerion chuckle heartily, you obliged him. 

But now here you were, out of the carriage and in Ashford, ready to attend the tourney and the festivities and simply be a happy and carefree maiden. You spotted Aerion a little distance away, coming down in front of his horse, his cape billowing around him. It was always easy to spot your Aerion, his true Targaryen features keeping him a beacon, and you skipped in his direction, a wide smile already on your lips.

When you skittered to a stop next to him, your eyes landed on the man he had been speaking to, and you gasped as you looked up at him. The man, clearly a hedge knight if his rope belt and dirty splotched face were anything to go by, stood two heads over you despite his hunched shoulders and bowed head. He was grimacing a little but his face was so… soft. He looked so kind it was shocking. 

“My…” you sighed, eyes brightening as you craned your head to look up at him. “My, you are rather tall!” You exclaimed, smiling widely up at him as he brought his gaze to you. He was blushing now, precious and pink, and it only made your smile grow. He bowed a little in front of you, hands on his sword as he murmured a ‘your grace’. 

“Goodness,” you sighed again, your eyes never leaving him, your gaze raking over his tattered and patchy clothes, his choppily shorn hair, and his large hands gripping the hilt of his sword. Oh my, indeed.

“Hush with your fawning, even a gnome is tall in comparison to you, sister,” came a sharp interjection as Aerion pressed himself close at your side, only just refraining from wrapping his arm around your waist and hauling you into his chest. You leaned into him though, and his cloak wrapped you slightly into its hold. 

“Rude!” You gasped, slapping him on the chest as you turned away from the hedge knight for a second. 

“Honest,” he huffed in response, looking at you with his blazing blue eyes so full of fire. 

“‘Tis not honest, it’s mean,” you grumbled, glaring at him a little before turning back to the hedge knight who was shuffling awkwardly on his feet in front of you. You smiled sweetly at him and offered your hand. 

“I am Princess Y/n Targaryen of Summerhall,” you introduced yourself. The knight held your hand tenderly, daintily, but did not do anything with it and looked a little surprised and lost. “You are meant to kiss the back of it, you know?” You prompted, raising your eyes a little in encouragement. 

“Oh, right, your highness, of course,” he spoke quickly, bowing his head as he raised your hand so it met a bit too harshly against his mouth. He grimaced and you giggled, but you did not say anything about it as Aerion fumed beside you, wanting to snatch your hand back from the unworthy ruffian. His glare made the knight shrink even further. You could almost hear his jaw pop from how hard he clenched it. 

“And you are?” You asked as he went silent again, hands going back to rest on the hilt of his sword as he let yours go. You had such soft hands, he thought, nothing like his own. He did not feel worthy of touching such beautiful hands. 

“I am Ser Duncan the Tall, my lady,” he said proudly, standing a little taller as he remembered Lyonel Baratheon’s wise words. 

“Ser Duncan the Tall!” You exclaimed, a little laugh falling from your lips as you beamed at him. “How fitting!” You giggled. Aerion quietly gripped your hand, the one Duncan had just kissed and rubbed the back of it with his cloak, cleaning off the stain of the knight’s lips. You allowed it, only because you knew if you tried to pull away, Aerion would hold tight and it would bring more attention to the matter. 

“Yes, my lady,” Ser Duncan said with a breathy laugh, a little smile gracing his face. You instantly decided that that smile needed to be seen by you very often. 

“What an astute observation,” Aerion grumbled under his breath, and you frowned at him, hitting him on the chest again. Aerion ignored the hit, looking up toward the entrance and wrapping his arms around you to begin turning you around. “Come, we must hurry after Father and Uncle if we do not want to be left behind,” he ordered, forcing you around. 

“Ugh, fine,” you huffed, turning back and smiling at Ser Duncan, giving him a little wave. “Goodbye Ser!” 

He watched after you with wide eyes as Aerion led you away, giving you a wave in return just before you completely looked away. He caught you frowning at Aerion as you walked off, a little snippet of your conversation floating to him. 

“Why are you being so mean to me today? I have not seen you all morning and you are already in such a grouchy…”

 Later that evening, before the first round of jousts were due to start, Dunk sat with Egg and told him of what he had experienced. He was starry eyed as he recounted the tale to the boy, talking endlessly of your beauty and gentility of spirit, of your kindness and joyfulness, and the way you had smiled at him in a way none had ever done before. Even the boy could tell the knight was smitten. 

But Egg was not a very active part of the conversation, his little body tense as he listened to his companion wax on about his own sister. Egg could see you the way Dunk described, most likely in one of your pretty and immensely expensive dresses that your father both complimented and rued. You always kept your hair immaculate, washed and shiny and smelling like flowers, a comfort to Egg many a time in the years past. 

But Egg also listened to Dunk’s telling of Aerion’s behaviour, his insults and his scowl as he stood at your shoulder, and he remembered the way his life had been at Summerhall before he left for Ashford with Daeron. 

Though you were kind and loving, and had only ever been sweet to Egg, a mother in place of the one that had died, your choice to love Aerion had always baffled him. You were younger than Aerion, like Egg was, but where Egg had always been tormented at the hands of his brother, you were cherished and revered. Aerion seemed to hold a soft spot for you that no one else could occupy, a sick and twisted little pocket of his heart just for you. 

Aerion, in the moments he did not spend training, was your constant shadow. Wherever you were, he was not far behind. At dinner he sat at your side, passing you whatever food you longed for, ordering the servers to fill your glass of wine before you could empty it, pushing up the sleeves of your dress if you were in danger of dipping them in your food. If you took leisure time in the library, there he was, sitting next to you at the table with his own tome open. If you took a walk in the gardens, your arm was threaded through his, and he walked alongside you. Egg had even seen Aerion in the dead of night, dressed only in his smallclothes, sneaking into your bedroom. 

But Egg knew it was not love, because he knew Aerion was incapable of it. Aerion thought you his little pet, his little project, someone to craft and bend to his will, turn into his own devout little lover and servant. But what irked Egg for his entire life, was that you seemed content in that role. 

You were happy to lave Aerion with your attention, to press kisses to his cheek and walk with him uncomfortably close at your side, his arm wrapped around you in a way that would sully your reputation beyond repair. Neither of you seemed to care though, and Aerion had already begun suggesting ideas of your betrothal to himself to your father. You were happy to have him as your shadow, and Egg hated it. It meant he did not get to be close to his favourite sister. It meant that he could not trust you. And it made him hate Aerion more. 

The horn blew loud and all-consuming in the distance, calling one and all to the beginning of the tourney, the first night of jousts. Dunk walked just behind Egg, making sure the little boy did not get lost in the crowd surging in the direction of the grounds. They pushed themselves to the front and settled just behind the fence, Egg climbing up onto it. 

First the royals were announced, walking onto the balcony where they were given the forward-most seats, pride of place. Prince Baelor was in the middle, raising his hand benevolently to greet the people who cheered. To his left was his younger brother, the Prince Maekar, and to his right were Prince Maekar’s children, first you at your uncle’s side, then your brother beside you. You all settled into your seats, readying to watch the first round of Lords battle it out on the tourney grounds. 

You adjusted your skirts as you sat, smoothing them out over your knees as you relaxed in your chair. Your uncle was turned and talking to your father, and Aerion had his eyes set eagerly on the grounds, readying for the bloodshed, though there was still a tinge of the air of frustration he had been carrying around with him since your arrival. 

Though he had practically dragged you into the Keep and away from the hedge knight, he had been angry since. He scowled as he walked through the halls, as the two of you were led away from your father and uncle and towards the chambers you would be occupying. He did not say goodbye when he arrived at his door, only extricated his arm from around you and walked through the doors with a huff, leaving you scoffing and shaking your head at him before following the maid along to your own accommodations. 

You had such mixed feelings about his jealousy (because it was rather obvious that that was what it was). You often times enjoyed it, enjoyed knowing that he became so worked up over you, over such simple things because they involved you. You relished in his attentions. But it became bothersome at times too, when it made him all stroppy and huffy and angry with you, when it came in the way of your fun. You knew it would all be right in the end for he could never remain angry with you for very long, and you had your strategies, of course, to entice him back to you. 

Before dinner you had dressed in your prettiest red gown, all shining velvet and dragon embroidery, bejewelled and tight-bodiced. You knew it was Aerion’s favourite of your dresses, he oft commented that it made you look a dragoness, it brought a shine to his eye that resembled that of a predator catching sight of its prey. He found it difficult to keep his hands off you when you wore the gown (though he seemed to find that naturally difficult regardless of what you wore), sweeping his hand over your back or gathering the material of your skirts to simply feel it between his fingers. 

You bedecked yourself in jewellery of Valyrian steel, black and dangerous, and you smiled with satisfaction in the mirror when you looked upon your intricate braids as well. You hoped that even if you were unable to dance with Aerion’s anger, that your father and uncle would at least be proud of you for representing your house so well. 

You arrived after Aerion had already been seated. You could see his hair over the top of the back of his chair, his posture slumped in that uncaringly relaxed way of his. You could see him picking at something on his plate, grapes or walnuts perhaps, before he reached out for his goblet and took a long sip from it. 

Your father and uncle walked in just behind you, offering you kind greetings and approving nods, before you all ventured to the dinner table. You slipped quietly into your seat beside Aerion, humming softly but otherwise not acknowledging him. You watched from your periphery as he purposefully faced ahead instead of turning to look at you, and then you caught his eyes glancing in your direction anyway. You saw the flare of his nostrils, the clench of his jaw, the twitch of his eye and his eyebrow too, the way his hands clenched into fists on the arms of his chair. You still did not acknowledge him, and he turned his head completely away from you then. 

You brushed your hair back over your shoulder in an elegant motion, exposing the skin of your neck that spanned all the way down to the tantalisingly low cut of your gown. You smiled politely at the attendant who placed the plate of roast chicken just in front of you, and the one who filled your goblet with wine. You looked across the table and conversed with Gwin, lamenting how you missed Valarr who was surely preparing for the evening’s joust in his tent just off the tourney grounds. 

Aerion shifted a little in the seat beside you, his hand brushing your elbow where you leaned it on your own armrest. He was looking at you now, not fully facing but looking with a stern expression, his mouth set in a straight line and his eyebrows just beginning to pull low. You knew Aerion absolutely despised you giving even an ounce of positive attention to Valarr. 

You tilted your head in his direction just so, meeting his stony blue eyes, and you simply smiled, kind and open, and you knew it would either soften him or enrage him further. It was a chance you were willing to take. 

The rest of dinner went uneventfully, with other conversations monopolising your attention. At one point Aerion’s hand brushed your skirts, and he took the fabric between his fingers to rub gently, but he did not acknowledge you otherwise, so you said nothing of the action either. Afterwards, the lot of you were led out to the viewing gallery for the tourney, and that was how you found yourself, settled between your uncle and brother, forced to watch something you had little interest in. 

You huffed slightly as you fell back in your chair and allowed your eyes to wander. Throngs of people pushed and shoved at the fences if only to get a good look at the bloodshed. You could see knights and their squires gathering at either end of the grounds, mounting their horses and gathering up their lances. You spotted Valarr astride his stallion, and when he looked up in the direction of the gallery, you offered him a small wave. You were not sure if he saw it, but Aerion certainly did, and he shifted in his chair with a small scoff. You ignored it in favour of continuing your perusal. 

It took you a bit of focus to begin picking out individual faces in the crowd. There were men and women of all shapes and sizes in a variety of clothes in an array of states of disrepair. But down the middle, you spotted him, the hedge knight from the morning, standing a head above the rest, occasionally bending to speak to someone before roaming his eyes around the place as well. You warmed at the sight of his earnest face, and when his eyes travelled in your direction, you began raising your hand to offer him a wave as well. 

Before you could get it high enough though, Aerion silently reached over and gripped your hand firmly in his own, bringing it to his lap and resting it there in his hold. You turned to face him finally, offering him what he so often craved, and he simply rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand. You smiled softly in his direction, reaching over with your hand to smooth at his sleeve lovingly. He hummed quietly, still not looking at you, but you could see the tension in his shoulders dissipate just a little. 

You were rather glad that your father was sitting on the other side of your uncle, for if he saw Aerion being so familiar with you in public yet again he would surely send you both straight to your chambers and have them locked until your time in Ashford was over. Though you did not mind it, your father was displeased with Aerion’s behaviour towards you. Targaryens were already deep in the throes of attempting to salvage their diminishing reputations. If it became common knowledge that another prince of the realm favoured his sister for the marriage bed, then it would surely destroy many of the efforts they had already been making. Of course Aerion did not care, he seemed to revel in angering your father by becoming even more familiar with you, but you could only take it all in stride. 

You reached out and gently ran the tip of your finger down Aerion’s forehead, then over the bridge and tip of his nose. He scrunched it sweetly, an innate reaction of his that you enjoyed immensely, and you felt all warm inside now, happy to be holding his hand despite how snarky he had been with you all day. It was nice to know that whatever had caused his anger, he would still hold your hand during the tourney. 

He finally turned his head to look at you as well, flitting his beautiful eyes all over your face. They were like crystals, so shiny and fractured with light, so intense. You refrained from the urge to trace all the sharp bones of his face, to press your own close enough to feel the brush of his lashes against your cheek. You supposed this was how he felt as well, this irresistible pull to never be farther than touching distance from you. 

“You do know I love you, don’t you?” You asked as you leaned over your armrest and stared right at his face, voice just above a whisper, blinking up at him as you awaited his response. His face smoothed out a little, the frown softening as he looked back at you and reached up to push some of your hair back. The backs of his fingers dragged along your cheekbone and temple, pressed into the crease of your ear. He did not say anything for a moment, just watched you. “Sit back properly in your seat,” he ordered, looking back to the tourney grounds, and you just smiled widely, doing as you were told but feeling satisfied that he was visibly better than before. Your Aerion was such a fickle creature, so eager to anger, but with you, he was also far too easy to please, and you did so enjoy taking advantage of it all. 

You sat silently in Aerion’s tent as he paced and raged, hands thrown in the air, then a goblet hurled onto the floor. His cheeks had gone red in his anger, and you could see the twitch in his jaw every time he clenched it. He was dressed down after the tourney debacle and the downpour that had followed suit. He wore a plain tunic and loose linen trousers, the picture of relaxed comfort if only he had not been pacing and yelling about the injustice of it all. 

“What right did they have to take my horse?! He lost fair and square, and simply rolled in the mud squealing like a stuck pig to garner sympathy. It is a fucking farce.” He glared at you when he spun around once more, his eyes wild, and you knew it would not be conducive to respond with anything other than a small ‘mhm’. 

Aerion growled then walked over to you. He stood just behind your chair, dropping his hands onto your shoulders and kneading there. His hands undulated and he pressed his thumbs into the backs of your shoulders almost verging on pain. He sighed, long and tired, then he dropped his head onto yours, pressing his face into your hair and inhaling as long as he could. You hummed once more, reaching up and gently placing one of your hands atop his. You caressed the backs of his fingers then moved up to his head, running your fingers through his hair and against his scalp until he was practically purring against you. He nuzzled his nose against your hair once more, then moved his right hand along your shoulder. 

Your breath stuttered as his hand finally rested along your throat. His palm spanned along it, his index finger pressing into the underside of your jaw, his thumb running back and forth along the hinge of your jaw. His hand was warm, the wonderful warmth that seemed to emanate from all Targaryens. You licked your lips as he brought his face down to your ear and simply breathed against the shell of it. He ran his nose along your cheek, down to your jaw, then simply stood there with his cheek pressed to yours. His hand pulsed around your neck, fingertips pressing in tight for a moment before releasing once more. He hummed at the feeling, then carefully pressed his mouth to your jaw, a firm but chaste kiss. 

You reached up and caressed his other cheek, running your fingers along the sharp line of his cheekbone, then tracing his jawline down to the point of his chin. He dipped his head to then press kisses to your fingertips, light and teasing, and your stomach fluttered to match it. 

“You smell divine,” he murmured when his lips had returned to pressing against your cheek and jaw. You had nothing to say in return and simply hummed, your eyes beginning to flutter shut. You wanted to enjoy the sensation, the flutter of his breath and the softness of his lips. 

“I could devour you whole,” he continued, then he gently bit at your jaw, just pressing his teeth into the skin there. Your breath rushed into your chest a little quicker at that, your hands trembling, and you almost panted. 

Aerion’s hand tightened around your throat even more, not stopping your breath but restricting it a tad bit, and you gasped once more. He used the edge of his hand to tilt your jaw towards him, until your eyes met. They blazed with purpose, hot as fire but so sure. He leaned closer until his eyes blurred into one big line right in front of yours and you could feel his breath against your upper lip. 

“You will be mine,” and it was an order, a promise, something to be written into the history books as the truest truth of all. Your lips parted, you licked them distractedly, and nodded as much as you could. He nodded in return, the same restrained little movement of the head, then he finally pressed his mouth to yours.

You slid your hand through the space between Maekar’s arm and his body before hooking it into the crook of his elbow. You kept yourself pressed close to his side, enjoying the soft feeling of his perfectly tailored suit, running your thumb back and forth over his tricep. Maekar turned his head and pressed a fleeting kiss to your temple before facing forward again and out to the mingling crowd of people at the party. 

The two of you made a stunning image standing there on the fringe, pressed close to one another but standing tall and confident. He was the picture of stony elegance, a sharp all-black suit, hair neatly combed, and his signature resting scowl marring his lips and eyes as he studied the crowd. You wore a beautiful black cocktail dress, but where he remained stony, you smiled brightly, offering hellos and waves to anyone who greeted you. 

“Fifteen more minutes, maximum, then we are leaving this fucking place,” Maekar leaned down and murmured in your ear, his nose grazing your hair as he straightened up once more. You laughed softly, petting his bicep with your other hand and resisting the urge to push up and kiss him firmly in front of everyone. 

“You can’t and you know it. It’s your company that is throwing this party, these are your employees and they deserve the respect of your presence for a while longer at least,” you chided him kindly. He only grunted in response, scowling a little harder, but he did not argue back and you knew he knew you were right. 

The two of you made a round of the room, stopping occasionally to talk to the employees that Maekar actually liked and those who liked you more than they did him. You sipped from glasses of champagne or fancy cocktails (or tumblers of whiskey in Maekar’s case) and eventually settled into the gentle buzz of the alcohol that made conversation and smiles easier. 

The two of you found yourselves back at the edge of the room, claiming a dim corner for yourselves, uninterested in the company of anyone but each other. Maekar leaned against the wall and you pressed yourself tight to his front, feeling a little loopy from the drinks and the tiredness that began to set in. You hummed softly along to the music as he fluttered his half-closed eyes, gazing at you with so much love that your chest felt full to the brim. 

You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, draping your arms over his shoulders as he held you by the hips, grip firm. He hummed at that, the rumbling of his chest moving warmly through you, and he leaned down into the space of your neck, sighing so his breath brushed the delicate skin before gently running the tip of his nose along the length of it. 

“You smell divine,” he murmured, his lips lightly grazing you, “I fucking love the way you smell.” 

You giggled softly, going all warm in the cheeks and chest, and you dipped your head down to softly bump it against the side of his. 

“You charmer,” you murmured, and he huffed an amused sound, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck before pulling back to look you in the eye. 

“I’m tired,” you murmured then, pouting a little as you leaned forward and nudged your nose with his. His hands were firm and hot at your waist and you wished you could just be enveloped by that feeling. 

Maekar leaned forward and pressed a soft peck to your mouth with a tender smile, pulling back just to lean in and press another, and repeat the motion a few more times after. You smiled and rubbed the side of your nose against his. “I want to go home, have you cuddle me properly,” you added, leaning even further forward to properly hug him, pressing your face into his neck now. Maekar hummed and then smiled warmly when he heard your next murmur of “I want you all to myself.” 

He ran a hand over the back of your head and all the way down your back until he wrapped his arm around your waist. He pressed soft kisses to the side of your head before saying, “I’ll have them bring the car around, love,” and felt you smile and nuzzle against his skin in utter contentment. 

“Love you,” you sighed, running your fingers gently down his back. 

“Love you more,” he whispered. 

Excerpt from an InterviewMag Profile with Interim CEO of TargCorp Maekar Targaryen: 

I: Thank you so much for doing what has become quite rare for you despite your very public position. 

M: Mmm, sure. I don’t like doing these sorts of things. My life is no one’s business but my own. I don’t understand this obsession with invading people’s privacy. 

I:...*clears throat* Um, still, thank you for doing this. I think many people find that you are in quite an interesting position. You come from a prestigious lineage that goes from kings and aristocrats to prolific business owners and past presidents. Your eldest brother has just won the election and is set to start as president. You took over his role as acting CEO of TargCorp while he campaigned and now as he completes his term. Your brother has actually said that he wanted you in his cabinet and was dismayed that it may not be possible due to this. It seems like everything is going on. 

M: And the world continues to turn *rolls eyes*. *long pause…* Baelor will be the best leader this country has ever seen and will likely ever see again. I’m happy to take on whatever burdens if it means he is able to fulfill his duty. 

I: *small smile* Well, that’s rather beautiful. It’s very obvious that you and your brother love one another. 

M: *scowling* Of course I fucking love my brother. I love all my brothers. Why would that be in question? 

I: It’s-it’s not, sorry, just a figure of speech. 

M: Mhm. 

I: You recently celebrated your two year anniversary with your partner, is that correct? 

M: *face softening slightly, eyes going a little distant* Mmm, yes, it was the only thing to look forward to that fucking week. 

I: Did you do anything special? Any surprises for her? 

M: *grunt* We went out for a picnic then went home. 

I: Aw, that sounds romantic! 

M: Mmm. 

[Real] Headlines That Have Appeared Concerning Maekar Targaryen and Y/n L/n: 

The Westerosi Sun: “Controversially Young Girlfriend Alert? Maekar Targaryen spotted dining with mystery young woman” 

Kingslanding Post: “Family Hike! Maekar Targaryen, girlfriend, and children seen lakeside near Summerhall estate” 

Eyrie Times: “Viral Now: The Discourse around an interview clip of Maekar Targaryen calling for his girlfriend using only the term ‘woman’” 

BusinessMag: “Whatever Maekar Targaryen is doing is working. Stock prices for TargCorp continue to rise for second successive month” 

Dorne Daily: “The rise of older men dating younger women in the media. A Case Study of Maekar Targaryen and Y/n L/n” 

Westeros Weekly: “‘He’s a fucking asshole, but his girlfriend’s fit’ Scathing remarks from owner and CEO of StormsEnd, Lyonel Baratheon, on rival Targaryen” 

WBC: “Maekar Targaryen and partner Y/n L/n make rare joint appearance to attend 98th Academy Awards” 

WDeuxMoi: “Step-Mother’s Day: Y/n L/n seen having fun day out with 4 of her partner’s children” 

Excerpts from a Substack post titled “The Controversial Character” 

“I don’t think there is anyone in Westeros who has not heard of Maekar Targaryen. I also do not think that there is any person in Westeros who has not heard the pervasive discourse around the recent reveal of his relationship with Y/n L/n. If you are new to the discussion, however, then allow me to give you some background information. 

“Almost one week ago, pictures were released and the news began to make the rounds of Maekar Targaryen having been spotted out to a quiet but obviously romantic dinner with a mystery woman. The internet sleuths of course began to do what they do best, and soon it was discovered that the woman was Y/n L/n, an HR consultant working on President Baelor’s election campaign.  While neither has made any public statement about their relationship, other anonymous sources have suggested that the couple met at the campaign offices in passing many times before venturing into a personal relationship. From what can be gathered, they have been together for a while but have been keeping it lowkey due to Maekar’s famous loathing of the press. One source claimed that she had met his children and was already well ingratiated with the family, while another suggested that they were househunting together recently. If the rumours are to be believed, this is a serious relationship seemingly headed toward marriage if that’s the sort of thing they are interested in.” 

“Maekar Targaryen has long been the press’s darling. Translation: he hates the media and they love to chase him. He has been described in many different ways ranging from ‘gruff and grumpy’ to ‘combative and disrespectful’, from ‘straightforward and no nonsense’ to ‘harsh and arrogant’. His dislike of the media is well-documented, with many instances of him scowling and shoving past paparazzi, grunted one word answers to journalist questions that he did not like, and wonderful comments such as “you illiterate cunt, what do you not understand about step back?!” aimed at an invasive cameraman, or “I spent my fair share of time in the military yet this is more fucking torturous than anything I ever went through during enlistment” at a mandatory press conference during a business summit.  While his media team may be in a constant state of despair due to his seeming incapability of being media trained, this spicy personality has drawn lots of eyes, and any publicity is good publicity. He is a highly divisive character, but the nature of this also means that there is a significant portion of people who are avid supporters and fans of his. This is definitely helped on by his straightforward and decidedly untrained media presence. Comments such as “he would rather fuck a whore on camera than answer a straightforward question about his approach to healthcare” when speaking about Daemon Blackfyre, his brother’s main rival for the presidency, sparked both outrage and cheers. “A lame horse would do a better job at running that company than that fool” was another such comment aimed at the highly disputed appointment of the new CEO of Ashford Inc.” 

“While I do think it’s fun to gossip and speculate, I also think this obsession with scrutinising age gap partnerships in the current media has become a bit of a farce. I acknowledge that there can be a real danger in such scenarios, with horrible possibilities such as grooming or coercion or abuse, but when two mature adults decide to engage in a relationship and there are no overt signs of danger (in fact there are signs of it actually being a beautiful and wonderful partnership!) then surely we should all just leave it alone. I for one wish Mr Targaryen and Y/n the absolute best of luck and hope they find their happily ever after together.” 

“Guys, guys,” Tanzelle called, gathering the attention of her co-workers, also known as the Red Keep public relations and media team. Dana glanced up and raised an eyebrow, Duncan turned in his chair to face her, eyes big and open, and Raymun continued eating his lunch but made sure he communicated that he was paying attention with his eyes. “Apparently there is a paparazzi video of Maekar that’s going to go live in a couple hours.” A collective groan rose into the air, everyone’s faces crumbling into grimaces, palms pressing to foreheads and a palpable air of disappointment appearing. 

“Fuck’s sake,” Raymun grumbled, shaking his head. 

“I wonder what camera man gets called an ‘apish cunt’ this time,” Dana sighed, pulling out her phone and beginning to shoot off messages to get early access to the video. 

“At least it’s not a video of Aerion or Daeron,” Dunk tried to soothe, attempting a nervous smile, but everyone just offered deadpanned looks and he popped his lips, “okay,” he dragged out, “point taken.” 

“Maybe it’ll just be another video of him keeping Aegon on his child leash. It’s not necessarily the best look but that boy kind of needs it,” Tanselle added, huffing a sarcastic chuckle as she attempted to extort a copy of the video from her contact without having to pay. 

“That would be better than dealing with another video of him calling Y/n ‘woman’ or ‘wife’. If she’s alright with it, why the fuck is everyone else getting so worked up?!” Raymun scoffed and turned back to his lunch, stabbing at the apple salad, but everyone around him chuckled quietly. 

“Right, I’ve got the video,” Dana exclaimed, turning towards the screen mounted on the wall, “I’ll airplay it so everyone can see.” The others all put their phones away and focused on the screen, silently praying the fallout would not be too difficult to manage. 

The footage was a little grainy, taken from a distance in a dimly lit and crowded room. The lighting was a warm amber, and you could just about make out that it was Maekar in the distance because of how the light reflected off his pale white hair. The camera then zoomed out just a tad and it made the video clearer. 

Maekar was dressed immaculately in an all black suit, practically swallowed up in the shadows, but the real surprise was the genuine smile just touching at his lips. He was leaning against the wall with you tucked up right against him, one of his thick arms a band around your waist and curling around your back. You wore an elegant midlength cocktail dress, your heels adding to your height so that when Maekar buried his face in your neck, he did not have to bend very far. You could see his head moving just slightly where it was hidden there, your arms draping over his shoulders and your hands caressing softly at his back.

Nothing was audible, but it was obvious that you then giggled quietly, tilting your head against his and murmuring something in his ear in return. His arm pulled back so he could rest his hand firmly on your waist, and he lifted his head a little so he could look you right in the eye, that same soft smile still painting his lips. Your fingers rested against the back of his neck then, scritching lightly at the base of his head, and he seemed to sigh, then lean in and begin pressing gentle pecks to your mouth. You nuzzled your nose against his and happily accepted them, somehow melting even further into his grip, and then the video panned down to the floor and cut off. 

Dana and the others all continued to stare at the screen in silence. Raymun and Dunk’s mouths dropped open in awe, minds blank. Tanselle smiled brightly, on the verge of giggling in glee, and Dana too was absolutely beaming. The room erupted into cheers, whoops, clapping, and even Dana jumped up from her seat with a little cheer. 

“Right! This calls for a bottle of champagne, it’s decided!” Another round of claps and cheers, and the others in the room began high-fiving each other. 

“I can’t believe this!”

“The day has finally come!”

“I could cry!” 

“Oh to see this day,” Tanselle wiped fake tears from her eyes before bursting into laughter. “FREE positive publicity for Maekar Targaryen, a gift that could only have come from the Seven themselves.” 

The loud pop of a cork sounded from behind everyone, and another chorus of cheers erupted. Oh yes, this was a day to be marked in the history books.

You slid your hand through the space between Maekar’s arm and his body before hooking it into the crook of his elbow. You kept yourself pressed close to his side, enjoying the soft feeling of his perfectly tailored suit, running your thumb back and forth over his tricep. Maekar turned his head and pressed a fleeting kiss to your temple before facing forward again and out to the mingling crowd of people at the party. 

The two of you made a stunning image standing there on the fringe, pressed close to one another but standing tall and confident. He was the picture of stony elegance, a sharp all-black suit, hair neatly combed, and his signature resting scowl marring his lips and eyes as he studied the crowd. You wore a beautiful black cocktail dress, but where he remained stony, you smiled brightly, offering hellos and waves to anyone who greeted you. 

“Fifteen more minutes, maximum, then we are leaving this fucking place,” Maekar leaned down and murmured in your ear, his nose grazing your hair as he straightened up once more. You laughed softly, petting his bicep with your other hand and resisting the urge to push up and kiss him firmly in front of everyone. 

“You can’t and you know it. It’s your company that is throwing this party, these are your employees and they deserve the respect of your presence for a while longer at least,” you chided him kindly. He only grunted in response, scowling a little harder, but he did not argue back and you knew he knew you were right. 

The two of you made a round of the room, stopping occasionally to talk to the employees that Maekar actually liked and those who liked you more than they did him. You sipped from glasses of champagne or fancy cocktails (or tumblers of whiskey in Maekar’s case) and eventually settled into the gentle buzz of the alcohol that made conversation and smiles easier. 

The two of you found yourselves back at the edge of the room, claiming a dim corner for yourselves, uninterested in the company of anyone but each other. Maekar leaned against the wall and you pressed yourself tight to his front, feeling a little loopy from the drinks and the tiredness that began to set in. You hummed softly along to the music as he fluttered his half-closed eyes, gazing at you with so much love that your chest felt full to the brim. 

You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, draping your arms over his shoulders as he held you by the hips, grip firm. He hummed at that, the rumbling of his chest moving warmly through you, and he leaned down into the space of your neck, sighing so his breath brushed the delicate skin before gently running the tip of his nose along the length of it. 

“You smell divine,” he murmured, his lips lightly grazing you, “I fucking love the way you smell.” 

You giggled softly, going all warm in the cheeks and chest, and you dipped your head down to softly bump it against the side of his. 

“You charmer,” you murmured, and he huffed an amused sound, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck before pulling back to look you in the eye. 

“I’m tired,” you murmured then, pouting a little as you leaned forward and nudged your nose with his. His hands were firm and hot at your waist and you wished you could just be enveloped by that feeling. 

Maekar leaned forward and pressed a soft peck to your mouth with a tender smile, pulling back just to lean in and press another, and repeat the motion a few more times after. You smiled and rubbed the side of your nose against his. “I want to go home, have you cuddle me properly,” you added, leaning even further forward to properly hug him, pressing your face into his neck now. Maekar hummed and then smiled warmly when he heard your next murmur of “I want you all to myself.” 

He ran a hand over the back of your head and all the way down your back until he wrapped his arm around your waist. He pressed soft kisses to the side of your head before saying, “I’ll have them bring the car around, love,” and felt you smile and nuzzle against his skin in utter contentment. 

“Love you,” you sighed, running your fingers gently down his back. 

“Love you more,” he whispered. 

Excerpt from an InterviewMag Profile with Interim CEO of TargCorp Maekar Targaryen: 

I: Thank you so much for doing what has become quite rare for you despite your very public position. 

M: Mmm, sure. I don’t like doing these sorts of things. My life is no one’s business but my own. I don’t understand this obsession with invading people’s privacy. 

I:...*clears throat* Um, still, thank you for doing this. I think many people find that you are in quite an interesting position. You come from a prestigious lineage that goes from kings and aristocrats to prolific business owners and past presidents. Your eldest brother has just won the election and is set to start as president. You took over his role as acting CEO of TargCorp while he campaigned and now as he completes his term. Your brother has actually said that he wanted you in his cabinet and was dismayed that it may not be possible due to this. It seems like everything is going on. 

M: And the world continues to turn *rolls eyes*. *long pause…* Baelor will be the best leader this country has ever seen and will likely ever see again. I’m happy to take on whatever burdens if it means he is able to fulfill his duty. 

I: *small smile* Well, that’s rather beautiful. It’s very obvious that you and your brother love one another. 

M: *scowling* Of course I fucking love my brother. I love all my brothers. Why would that be in question? 

I: It’s-it’s not, sorry, just a figure of speech. 

M: Mhm. 

I: You recently celebrated your two year anniversary with your partner, is that correct? 

M: *face softening slightly, eyes going a little distant* Mmm, yes, it was the only thing to look forward to that fucking week. 

I: Did you do anything special? Any surprises for her? 

M: *grunt* We went out for a picnic then went home. 

I: Aw, that sounds romantic! 

M: Mmm. 

[Real] Headlines That Have Appeared Concerning Maekar Targaryen and Y/n L/n: 

The Westerosi Sun: “Controversially Young Girlfriend Alert? Maekar Targaryen spotted dining with mystery young woman” 

Kingslanding Post: “Family Hike! Maekar Targaryen, girlfriend, and children seen lakeside near Summerhall estate” 

Eyrie Times: “Viral Now: The Discourse around an interview clip of Maekar Targaryen calling for his girlfriend using only the term ‘woman’” 

BusinessMag: “Whatever Maekar Targaryen is doing is working. Stock prices for TargCorp continue to rise for second successive month” 

Dorne Daily: “The rise of older men dating younger women in the media. A Case Study of Maekar Targaryen and Y/n L/n” 

Westeros Weekly: “‘He’s a fucking asshole, but his girlfriend’s fit’ Scathing remarks from owner and CEO of StormsEnd, Lyonel Baratheon, on rival Targaryen” 

WBC: “Maekar Targaryen and partner Y/n L/n make rare joint appearance to attend 98th Academy Awards” 

WDeuxMoi: “Step-Mother’s Day: Y/n L/n seen having fun day out with 4 of her partner’s children” 

Excerpts from a Substack post titled “The Controversial Character” 

“I don’t think there is anyone in Westeros who has not heard of Maekar Targaryen. I also do not think that there is any person in Westeros who has not heard the pervasive discourse around the recent reveal of his relationship with Y/n L/n. If you are new to the discussion, however, then allow me to give you some background information. 

“Almost one week ago, pictures were released and the news began to make the rounds of Maekar Targaryen having been spotted out to a quiet but obviously romantic dinner with a mystery woman. The internet sleuths of course began to do what they do best, and soon it was discovered that the woman was Y/n L/n, an HR consultant working on President Baelor’s election campaign.  While neither has made any public statement about their relationship, other anonymous sources have suggested that the couple met at the campaign offices in passing many times before venturing into a personal relationship. From what can be gathered, they have been together for a while but have been keeping it lowkey due to Maekar’s famous loathing of the press. One source claimed that she had met his children and was already well ingratiated with the family, while another suggested that they were househunting together recently. If the rumours are to be believed, this is a serious relationship seemingly headed toward marriage if that’s the sort of thing they are interested in.” 

“Maekar Targaryen has long been the press’s darling. Translation: he hates the media and they love to chase him. He has been described in many different ways ranging from ‘gruff and grumpy’ to ‘combative and disrespectful’, from ‘straightforward and no nonsense’ to ‘harsh and arrogant’. His dislike of the media is well-documented, with many instances of him scowling and shoving past paparazzi, grunted one word answers to journalist questions that he did not like, and wonderful comments such as “you illiterate cunt, what do you not understand about step back?!” aimed at an invasive cameraman, or “I spent my fair share of time in the military yet this is more fucking torturous than anything I ever went through during enlistment” at a mandatory press conference during a business summit.  While his media team may be in a constant state of despair due to his seeming incapability of being media trained, this spicy personality has drawn lots of eyes, and any publicity is good publicity. He is a highly divisive character, but the nature of this also means that there is a significant portion of people who are avid supporters and fans of his. This is definitely helped on by his straightforward and decidedly untrained media presence. Comments such as “he would rather fuck a whore on camera than answer a straightforward question about his approach to healthcare” when speaking about Daemon Blackfyre, his brother’s main rival for the presidency, sparked both outrage and cheers. “A lame horse would do a better job at running that company than that fool” was another such comment aimed at the highly disputed appointment of the new CEO of Ashford Inc.” 

“While I do think it’s fun to gossip and speculate, I also think this obsession with scrutinising age gap partnerships in the current media has become a bit of a farce. I acknowledge that there can be a real danger in such scenarios, with horrible possibilities such as grooming or coercion or abuse, but when two mature adults decide to engage in a relationship and there are no overt signs of danger (in fact there are signs of it actually being a beautiful and wonderful partnership!) then surely we should all just leave it alone. I for one wish Mr Targaryen and Y/n the absolute best of luck and hope they find their happily ever after together.” 

“Guys, guys,” Tanzelle called, gathering the attention of her co-workers, also known as the Red Keep public relations and media team. Dana glanced up and raised an eyebrow, Duncan turned in his chair to face her, eyes big and open, and Raymun continued eating his lunch but made sure he communicated that he was paying attention with his eyes. “Apparently there is a paparazzi video of Maekar that’s going to go live in a couple hours.” A collective groan rose into the air, everyone’s faces crumbling into grimaces, palms pressing to foreheads and a palpable air of disappointment appearing. 

“Fuck’s sake,” Raymun grumbled, shaking his head. 

“I wonder what camera man gets called an ‘apish cunt’ this time,” Dana sighed, pulling out her phone and beginning to shoot off messages to get early access to the video. 

“At least it’s not a video of Aerion or Daeron,” Dunk tried to soothe, attempting a nervous smile, but everyone just offered deadpanned looks and he popped his lips, “okay,” he dragged out, “point taken.” 

“Maybe it’ll just be another video of him keeping Aegon on his child leash. It’s not necessarily the best look but that boy kind of needs it,” Tanselle added, huffing a sarcastic chuckle as she attempted to extort a copy of the video from her contact without having to pay. 

“That would be better than dealing with another video of him calling Y/n ‘woman’ or ‘wife’. If she’s alright with it, why the fuck is everyone else getting so worked up?!” Raymun scoffed and turned back to his lunch, stabbing at the apple salad, but everyone around him chuckled quietly. 

“Right, I’ve got the video,” Dana exclaimed, turning towards the screen mounted on the wall, “I’ll airplay it so everyone can see.” The others all put their phones away and focused on the screen, silently praying the fallout would not be too difficult to manage. 

The footage was a little grainy, taken from a distance in a dimly lit and crowded room. The lighting was a warm amber, and you could just about make out that it was Maekar in the distance because of how the light reflected off his pale white hair. The camera then zoomed out just a tad and it made the video clearer. 

Maekar was dressed immaculately in an all black suit, practically swallowed up in the shadows, but the real surprise was the genuine smile just touching at his lips. He was leaning against the wall with you tucked up right against him, one of his thick arms a band around your waist and curling around your back. You wore an elegant midlength cocktail dress, your heels adding to your height so that when Maekar buried his face in your neck, he did not have to bend very far. You could see his head moving just slightly where it was hidden there, your arms draping over his shoulders and your hands caressing softly at his back.

Nothing was audible, but it was obvious that you then giggled quietly, tilting your head against his and murmuring something in his ear in return. His arm pulled back so he could rest his hand firmly on your waist, and he lifted his head a little so he could look you right in the eye, that same soft smile still painting his lips. Your fingers rested against the back of his neck then, scritching lightly at the base of his head, and he seemed to sigh, then lean in and begin pressing gentle pecks to your mouth. You nuzzled your nose against his and happily accepted them, somehow melting even further into his grip, and then the video panned down to the floor and cut off. 

Dana and the others all continued to stare at the screen in silence. Raymun and Dunk’s mouths dropped open in awe, minds blank. Tanselle smiled brightly, on the verge of giggling in glee, and Dana too was absolutely beaming. The room erupted into cheers, whoops, clapping, and even Dana jumped up from her seat with a little cheer. 

“Right! This calls for a bottle of champagne, it’s decided!” Another round of claps and cheers, and the others in the room began high-fiving each other. 

“I can’t believe this!”

“The day has finally come!”

“I could cry!” 

“Oh to see this day,” Tanselle wiped fake tears from her eyes before bursting into laughter. “FREE positive publicity for Maekar Targaryen, a gift that could only have come from the Seven themselves.” 

The loud pop of a cork sounded from behind everyone, and another chorus of cheers erupted. Oh yes, this was a day to be marked in the history books.

You slid your hand through the space between Maekar’s arm and his body before hooking it into the crook of his elbow. You kept yourself pressed close to his side, enjoying the soft feeling of his perfectly tailored suit, running your thumb back and forth over his tricep. Maekar turned his head and pressed a fleeting kiss to your temple before facing forward again and out to the mingling crowd of people at the party. 

The two of you made a stunning image standing there on the fringe, pressed close to one another but standing tall and confident. He was the picture of stony elegance, a sharp all-black suit, hair neatly combed, and his signature resting scowl marring his lips and eyes as he studied the crowd. You wore a beautiful black cocktail dress, but where he remained stony, you smiled brightly, offering hellos and waves to anyone who greeted you. 

“Fifteen more minutes, maximum, then we are leaving this fucking place,” Maekar leaned down and murmured in your ear, his nose grazing your hair as he straightened up once more. You laughed softly, petting his bicep with your other hand and resisting the urge to push up and kiss him firmly in front of everyone. 

“You can’t and you know it. It’s your company that is throwing this party, these are your employees and they deserve the respect of your presence for a while longer at least,” you chided him kindly. He only grunted in response, scowling a little harder, but he did not argue back and you knew he knew you were right. 

The two of you made a round of the room, stopping occasionally to talk to the employees that Maekar actually liked and those who liked you more than they did him. You sipped from glasses of champagne or fancy cocktails (or tumblers of whiskey in Maekar’s case) and eventually settled into the gentle buzz of the alcohol that made conversation and smiles easier. 

The two of you found yourselves back at the edge of the room, claiming a dim corner for yourselves, uninterested in the company of anyone but each other. Maekar leaned against the wall and you pressed yourself tight to his front, feeling a little loopy from the drinks and the tiredness that began to set in. You hummed softly along to the music as he fluttered his half-closed eyes, gazing at you with so much love that your chest felt full to the brim. 

You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, draping your arms over his shoulders as he held you by the hips, grip firm. He hummed at that, the rumbling of his chest moving warmly through you, and he leaned down into the space of your neck, sighing so his breath brushed the delicate skin before gently running the tip of his nose along the length of it. 

“You smell divine,” he murmured, his lips lightly grazing you, “I fucking love the way you smell.” 

You giggled softly, going all warm in the cheeks and chest, and you dipped your head down to softly bump it against the side of his. 

“You charmer,” you murmured, and he huffed an amused sound, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck before pulling back to look you in the eye. 

“I’m tired,” you murmured then, pouting a little as you leaned forward and nudged your nose with his. His hands were firm and hot at your waist and you wished you could just be enveloped by that feeling. 

Maekar leaned forward and pressed a soft peck to your mouth with a tender smile, pulling back just to lean in and press another, and repeat the motion a few more times after. You smiled and rubbed the side of your nose against his. “I want to go home, have you cuddle me properly,” you added, leaning even further forward to properly hug him, pressing your face into his neck now. Maekar hummed and then smiled warmly when he heard your next murmur of “I want you all to myself.” 

He ran a hand over the back of your head and all the way down your back until he wrapped his arm around your waist. He pressed soft kisses to the side of your head before saying, “I’ll have them bring the car around, love,” and felt you smile and nuzzle against his skin in utter contentment. 

“Love you,” you sighed, running your fingers gently down his back. 

“Love you more,” he whispered. 

Excerpt from an InterviewMag Profile with Interim CEO of TargCorp Maekar Targaryen: 

I: Thank you so much for doing what has become quite rare for you despite your very public position. 

M: Mmm, sure. I don’t like doing these sorts of things. My life is no one’s business but my own. I don’t understand this obsession with invading people’s privacy. 

I:...*clears throat* Um, still, thank you for doing this. I think many people find that you are in quite an interesting position. You come from a prestigious lineage that goes from kings and aristocrats to prolific business owners and past presidents. Your eldest brother has just won the election and is set to start as president. You took over his role as acting CEO of TargCorp while he campaigned and now as he completes his term. Your brother has actually said that he wanted you in his cabinet and was dismayed that it may not be possible due to this. It seems like everything is going on. 

M: And the world continues to turn *rolls eyes*. *long pause…* Baelor will be the best leader this country has ever seen and will likely ever see again. I’m happy to take on whatever burdens if it means he is able to fulfill his duty. 

I: *small smile* Well, that’s rather beautiful. It’s very obvious that you and your brother love one another. 

M: *scowling* Of course I fucking love my brother. I love all my brothers. Why would that be in question? 

I: It’s-it’s not, sorry, just a figure of speech. 

M: Mhm. 

I: You recently celebrated your two year anniversary with your partner, is that correct? 

M: *face softening slightly, eyes going a little distant* Mmm, yes, it was the only thing to look forward to that fucking week. 

I: Did you do anything special? Any surprises for her? 

M: *grunt* We went out for a picnic then went home. 

I: Aw, that sounds romantic! 

M: Mmm. 

[Real] Headlines That Have Appeared Concerning Maekar Targaryen and Y/n L/n: 

The Westerosi Sun: “Controversially Young Girlfriend Alert? Maekar Targaryen spotted dining with mystery young woman” 

Kingslanding Post: “Family Hike! Maekar Targaryen, girlfriend, and children seen lakeside near Summerhall estate” 

Eyrie Times: “Viral Now: The Discourse around an interview clip of Maekar Targaryen calling for his girlfriend using only the term ‘woman’” 

BusinessMag: “Whatever Maekar Targaryen is doing is working. Stock prices for TargCorp continue to rise for second successive month” 

Dorne Daily: “The rise of older men dating younger women in the media. A Case Study of Maekar Targaryen and Y/n L/n” 

Westeros Weekly: “‘He’s a fucking asshole, but his girlfriend’s fit’ Scathing remarks from owner and CEO of StormsEnd, Lyonel Baratheon, on rival Targaryen” 

WBC: “Maekar Targaryen and partner Y/n L/n make rare joint appearance to attend 98th Academy Awards” 

WDeuxMoi: “Step-Mother’s Day: Y/n L/n seen having fun day out with 4 of her partner’s children” 

Excerpts from a Substack post titled “The Controversial Character” 

“I don’t think there is anyone in Westeros who has not heard of Maekar Targaryen. I also do not think that there is any person in Westeros who has not heard the pervasive discourse around the recent reveal of his relationship with Y/n L/n. If you are new to the discussion, however, then allow me to give you some background information. 

“Almost one week ago, pictures were released and the news began to make the rounds of Maekar Targaryen having been spotted out to a quiet but obviously romantic dinner with a mystery woman. The internet sleuths of course began to do what they do best, and soon it was discovered that the woman was Y/n L/n, an HR consultant working on President Baelor’s election campaign.  While neither has made any public statement about their relationship, other anonymous sources have suggested that the couple met at the campaign offices in passing many times before venturing into a personal relationship. From what can be gathered, they have been together for a while but have been keeping it lowkey due to Maekar’s famous loathing of the press. One source claimed that she had met his children and was already well ingratiated with the family, while another suggested that they were househunting together recently. If the rumours are to be believed, this is a serious relationship seemingly headed toward marriage if that’s the sort of thing they are interested in.” 

“Maekar Targaryen has long been the press’s darling. Translation: he hates the media and they love to chase him. He has been described in many different ways ranging from ‘gruff and grumpy’ to ‘combative and disrespectful’, from ‘straightforward and no nonsense’ to ‘harsh and arrogant’. His dislike of the media is well-documented, with many instances of him scowling and shoving past paparazzi, grunted one word answers to journalist questions that he did not like, and wonderful comments such as “you illiterate cunt, what do you not understand about step back?!” aimed at an invasive cameraman, or “I spent my fair share of time in the military yet this is more fucking torturous than anything I ever went through during enlistment” at a mandatory press conference during a business summit.  While his media team may be in a constant state of despair due to his seeming incapability of being media trained, this spicy personality has drawn lots of eyes, and any publicity is good publicity. He is a highly divisive character, but the nature of this also means that there is a significant portion of people who are avid supporters and fans of his. This is definitely helped on by his straightforward and decidedly untrained media presence. Comments such as “he would rather fuck a whore on camera than answer a straightforward question about his approach to healthcare” when speaking about Daemon Blackfyre, his brother’s main rival for the presidency, sparked both outrage and cheers. “A lame horse would do a better job at running that company than that fool” was another such comment aimed at the highly disputed appointment of the new CEO of Ashford Inc.” 

“While I do think it’s fun to gossip and speculate, I also think this obsession with scrutinising age gap partnerships in the current media has become a bit of a farce. I acknowledge that there can be a real danger in such scenarios, with horrible possibilities such as grooming or coercion or abuse, but when two mature adults decide to engage in a relationship and there are no overt signs of danger (in fact there are signs of it actually being a beautiful and wonderful partnership!) then surely we should all just leave it alone. I for one wish Mr Targaryen and Y/n the absolute best of luck and hope they find their happily ever after together.” 

“Guys, guys,” Tanzelle called, gathering the attention of her co-workers, also known as the Red Keep public relations and media team. Dana glanced up and raised an eyebrow, Duncan turned in his chair to face her, eyes big and open, and Raymun continued eating his lunch but made sure he communicated that he was paying attention with his eyes. “Apparently there is a paparazzi video of Maekar that’s going to go live in a couple hours.” A collective groan rose into the air, everyone’s faces crumbling into grimaces, palms pressing to foreheads and a palpable air of disappointment appearing. 

“Fuck’s sake,” Raymun grumbled, shaking his head. 

“I wonder what camera man gets called an ‘apish cunt’ this time,” Dana sighed, pulling out her phone and beginning to shoot off messages to get early access to the video. 

“At least it’s not a video of Aerion or Daeron,” Dunk tried to soothe, attempting a nervous smile, but everyone just offered deadpanned looks and he popped his lips, “okay,” he dragged out, “point taken.” 

“Maybe it’ll just be another video of him keeping Aegon on his child leash. It’s not necessarily the best look but that boy kind of needs it,” Tanselle added, huffing a sarcastic chuckle as she attempted to extort a copy of the video from her contact without having to pay. 

“That would be better than dealing with another video of him calling Y/n ‘woman’ or ‘wife’. If she’s alright with it, why the fuck is everyone else getting so worked up?!” Raymun scoffed and turned back to his lunch, stabbing at the apple salad, but everyone around him chuckled quietly. 

“Right, I’ve got the video,” Dana exclaimed, turning towards the screen mounted on the wall, “I’ll airplay it so everyone can see.” The others all put their phones away and focused on the screen, silently praying the fallout would not be too difficult to manage. 

The footage was a little grainy, taken from a distance in a dimly lit and crowded room. The lighting was a warm amber, and you could just about make out that it was Maekar in the distance because of how the light reflected off his pale white hair. The camera then zoomed out just a tad and it made the video clearer. 

Maekar was dressed immaculately in an all black suit, practically swallowed up in the shadows, but the real surprise was the genuine smile just touching at his lips. He was leaning against the wall with you tucked up right against him, one of his thick arms a band around your waist and curling around your back. You wore an elegant midlength cocktail dress, your heels adding to your height so that when Maekar buried his face in your neck, he did not have to bend very far. You could see his head moving just slightly where it was hidden there, your arms draping over his shoulders and your hands caressing softly at his back.

Nothing was audible, but it was obvious that you then giggled quietly, tilting your head against his and murmuring something in his ear in return. His arm pulled back so he could rest his hand firmly on your waist, and he lifted his head a little so he could look you right in the eye, that same soft smile still painting his lips. Your fingers rested against the back of his neck then, scritching lightly at the base of his head, and he seemed to sigh, then lean in and begin pressing gentle pecks to your mouth. You nuzzled your nose against his and happily accepted them, somehow melting even further into his grip, and then the video panned down to the floor and cut off. 

Dana and the others all continued to stare at the screen in silence. Raymun and Dunk’s mouths dropped open in awe, minds blank. Tanselle smiled brightly, on the verge of giggling in glee, and Dana too was absolutely beaming. The room erupted into cheers, whoops, clapping, and even Dana jumped up from her seat with a little cheer. 

“Right! This calls for a bottle of champagne, it’s decided!” Another round of claps and cheers, and the others in the room began high-fiving each other. 

“I can’t believe this!”

“The day has finally come!”

“I could cry!” 

“Oh to see this day,” Tanselle wiped fake tears from her eyes before bursting into laughter. “FREE positive publicity for Maekar Targaryen, a gift that could only have come from the Seven themselves.” 

The loud pop of a cork sounded from behind everyone, and another chorus of cheers erupted. Oh yes, this was a day to be marked in the history books.

I’m going to address each paragraph one by one, but I’ve numbered them here for ease of navigation! 

Aftermath 

Ok, my problem with writing this was that I can see it going in so many different ways. Like the amount of directions it could go, the different conversations they could all end up having, there is just too much possibility for me to ever end up choosing only one path for this. So let’s discuss them all! 

Ok, if reader stays with Valarr, I think it would become such a deliciously fraught situation full of internal turmoil and lots of tension in various places. I def think reader would sort of clam up and not know how to react. For a while she would probably distance herself from Valarr out of guilt and confusion, then she would try to push it all down mentally and just forget she ever knew his dad before. I can def see her trying to rush having sex with Valarr now, almost to make up for what she’s done, but it’s an insanely uncomfortable experience for both of them and he’s like wtf is going on, why are you crying, if you don’t want to do this we don’t have to, please just talk to me, etc etc. And then she breaks down and tells him, and she tries to tell him she didn’t know he was his dad, tries to tell him that it’s more complicated than just the label of cheating, but Valarr is also so confused and freaked out and everything has imploded. 

While all of this is happening, she is completely ignoring Baelor. He tries to get in contact with her, to just have a conversation about what exactly has happened, but she has blocked his number, refuses to answer any emails, literally just refuses to acknowledge his existence. It gets soo messy everywhere. 

I see this specific scenario ending with her and Valarr breaking up, and her and Baelor never having a relationship. Like it’s just really bittersweet, and she does eventually have a conversation with Baelor, but they agree that it’s too convoluted and fraught and no one can have a relationship without it being tainted now. So it really hurts, but no more Valarr, and no more Baelor. 

Another possible scenario is her ending up with Baelor (a personal fav lol). I think this could happen in 2 ways. The first is that when the ending of the oneshot happens and she is faced with Baelor and Valarr is introducing them, she freaks out and just turns and walks out and is like ‘no no no’.  Valarr obviously follows, but Baelor follows too because unfortunately he is a part of this now, and when they catch up, she’s hyperventilating and freaking out, and Baelor sort of stands in front of her and helps her do some breathing exercises, Valarr is watching like “wtf…” and then she turns to Valarr and while freaking out tells him. 

“So you know how I told you the other day that I had been seeing a couple therapists? Like one specifically for my intimacy issues?” 

“Yeah…” 

“It’s your dad. It’s Baelor.” And you’re just looking between them two, and Valarr is looking between you two, confusion and horror dawning on him. 

“Like-like… no.” 

“Yes. I lost my virginity to your dad.” 

And then you all just stand there in silence, breathing in this insane news you have dropped. And you all just kind of have to go back inside and have the most tense lunch on the planet. 

Now here is where it gets interesting. In the original fic, I feel like I made feelings more clear on Baelor’s part than reader’s. The way I read it while writing it is that it’s clear Baelor has gained feelings and is struggling with the professionalism of it, but we don’t actually know if reader feels anything for Baelor past immense trust. There are implications of course, but she clearly loves Valarr and wants to be with him throughout the fic, so on her end it is a lot more obscure. 

Now we could go the route where she still loves Valarr, still wants to be with him, is explaining to him that it wasn’t love but trust, and it’s not simple but it’s not that she doesn’t love him, and now they have to figure out if they can salvage their relationship, if they can somehow reconcile everything that has happened. This would also obviously involve breaking Baelor’s heart… (There’s also a whole avenue here for a darker discussion where Valarr gets angry and turns on his dad and starts yelling things about coercion and consent and accusing Baelor of coercing a vulnerable patient, and then you have to reckon with all these questions and Valarr’s motives for bringing them up… but I’m not going to get into that here). 

We could also go the route where she loves Baelor but doesn’t recognise that she loves him so she’s not necessarily thinking about that at this moment, her and Valarr break up and she’s distraught and doesn’t know what to do, but then Baelor comes to her and confesses and she realises she actually did fall in love with him and now they have to navigate this relationship. 

OK FINALLY, the other way I see her ending up with Baelor, and this is probably the most juicy and dramatic possible storyline, is that she stays with Valarr and she does not tell him. 

Ok, walk with me here. Reader and Valarr have just walked in, Valarr has introduced her to Baelor as his girlfriend, they are staring at each other with barely concealed shock, don’t really know what to do, but in a panic, reader just sort of reaches out and shakes her hand and introduces herself breathily and pretends she doesn’t know Baelor. He sort of stiltingly goes along with it, he seems a bit odd, Valarr asks if he’s ok, he just says something like how you looked familiar but never mind, and then he guides you all into the house and out through to the garden while both of you are freaking out. 

Baelor is really torn internally because on the one hand, there are confidentiality laws and clients can choose how to address their therapists in public, and the therapist just has to go along with it, but then this is also a huuuuge conflict of interest because you are dating a family member which means he can’t be your therapist any more (not to mention the insane mess of feelings he has surrounding you…). 

You guys sort of muddle your way through the lunch, and then you leave with Valarr, on the drive he’s trying to talk to you about how he’s worried there’s something off with his dad but you are just freaking out. You get a message from Baelor saying you need to talk, and you just sort of respond by saying you will come to your appointment and you can talk then, then you shut off your phone. 

When you get to your appointment, you two are sort of freaking out together, saying how this is completely inappropriate, how you’re not sure if you should tell Valarr or not, how this cannot continue, how this is so wrong, how you cannot have any contact any more. But then you start crying and you two sit on the sofa together and he’s all like “...do you want to continue your relationship with Valarr?” and that makes you freak out more because you actually don’t know how to answer. And he’s feeling insane because he didn’t realise how strong his feelings for you were and he hasn’t even confessed them to you but he feels mad about you. 

And in this hubbub of emotion, you sort of jump forward and kiss him, just to see, to see if you feel something, if its real, and of course he kisses you back because he can’t help himself, and when you both pull back, you stare at each other, and you just say, “we just can’t. We just… we have to pretend we don’t know each other.” And you leave his office. 

You two try soooo hard to stay away from each other, to not have any contact, but Valarr is always inviting you over to his dad’s place when he’s there, or inviting you out with the family, and you can’t cancel all the time so it’s just so full of tension seeing each other all the time. 

Then one night when you stay over, maybe you guys bump into each other in the kitchen, and you just cannot keep your hands off each other, you just go full at it, and now you have to reckon with this torrid affair. You both are filled with these conflicting feelings of loving each other, betrayal, desire, self-loathing, and it’s a rife mix. 

I think there are also a bunch of ways this could go here as well, but to make it as painful as possible, you start an unspoken affair. Like neither of you really acknowledge it, but he’s so weak for you, and you are just so drawn to him and find that he is the only person you can be vulnerable with, that the two of you just kind of keep finding each other and relying on each other, and sleeping with each other but not outwardly acknowledging it, and it’s just sooo toxic and secretive and silent. 

OR after trying to stay away for a long time, you come back to him begging him to be your therapist again because you just can’t find any progress with anyone else the way you did with him. Of course he is reluctant, tells you no, lists all the reasons why, but eventually you beg and beg and he caves in because it’s you. Obvi once the sessions start out, they do not stay innocent for long, and the two of you fall into this horrible cycle of becoming intimate and loving, then saying no, this was the last time, we can’t do this again, before succumbing to the same thing again. Like you become weaker with each time you break, and it’s such a flimsy attempt to dissuade yourselves from being with each other, and it’s obviously infidelity now, but it’s such a toxic cycle. 

Maybe you eventually crack under the stress, and you break it off with both Valarr and Baelor. You might tell Valarr what happened, and he’s so hurt and angry with both you and Baelor and you tell him he’s right to be and you take yourself out of both their lives, but eventually Baelor comes to find you and you two slowly build a relationship from scratch. 

Or maybe you don’t tell Valarr, just break up with both him and Baelor, and isolate yourself, but eventually Baelor tells Valarr what happened and after a while of processing, he tells Baelor to go get you, and he comes and you two try to make up a relationship. 

Orrrr you break up with Valarr, tell him why, and then you go to Baelor and you confess and you tell him you are in love with him, and now you two have to work out how to be together for real. 

AAAAAA you see what I mean???? The possibilities are actually endless, I don’t ever know what to dooooo. 

OK, and for the other questions you asked: 

Yes, Baelor’s family knows what he does for work. He doesn’t hide it from them, just uses his mother’s last name so that the general public doesn’t connect him to the big family corp. He’s not ashamed of his work. He obvi doesn’t discuss any of his clients with his family, but they are aware of his job. They all want him to be happy professionally, and you never know, he might eventually come back to join the family business, but for now, no. 

This is sooo random, but I see Maekar as a lawyer in this universe. Purely based on vibes. I can see him as a corporate lawyer or a finance lawyer, something of the sort. Or I see him being like CFO or COO in Waystar Targco, idk. All I know is that he wears a suit to work everyday, he is a professional hardman and scowler, but he always gets the job done. 

(I’m already so sorry for how long this is…) 

Reader’s continuing intimacy issues 

You are 100% right, like intimacy is soooo complex and sex is such a vast realm, that there are def going to be a bunch of other things that she is going to be nervous about. For the ease of discussing this scenario, let’s say that she and Baelor continue being counsellor/client but they just keep it a secret from everyone. 

I definitely see her being nervous about giving oral. Like, in the fic, we saw Baelor give her oral, but she def would feel out of her depth giving it. I see a scene similar to the one where he teaches her how to kiss, where she broaches the topic negatively and with a frown, and he tells her that it is pleasurable but she should never feel obligated to do it if she doesn’t want to. There is no such thing as repaying a favour, and it should only be done if she is comfortable. But then she sort of suggests that she wants to try it, if only to know how it feels, and of course they do it together. I see him talking her through it, guiding her on how to be careful, what feels good, how to read your partner’s reactions. He def tells her to take it easy and breathe and to make sure she feels comfortable while performing it too. And I see her constantly looking up at him for reassurance, constantly wanting to know that she’s doing the right thing, and it absolutely does him in because the sight of her looking up at him like that or relying on him so much is IT for him. 

I also see them really discussing what she likes, what she wants to try, and how she should go about initiating this or creating situations in which she can safely explore these possibilities. The irony of it is of course that she just does all that back to him because he’s the only one she wants to do it with ;p 

Discovery 

Yessss, I might try and write some scenes of this at some point, but here’s some little ideas for it for now. 

I definitely think Baelor is a dom, like no question about it. It’s just innate to his character, natural to his being. I always come back to that one interview Bertie Carvel did where he says that Baelor is sort of humouring Duncan when they first meet. Like he’s allowing him to do those little improper oversteps because it intrigues and entertains him, but there’s always that underlying current of him allowing it. He is the one in control, when it stops being interesting, he has the power to dismiss someone, to end whatever is happening, and I think this is so obvious in his character, so I will always write Baelor as being a more authoritative and dominating personality. In this AU I see it in a gentler manner, but I definitely still see it. There is a power imbalance here, reader is trusting him, so he is def still the one in control. 

I also just tend to write my readers in a more submissive role anyway, so that pattern would just continue here, so I def think they would explore this dom sub dynamic too. Like I can see them having conversations about these roles, how they are comfortable in them, and then also having other safeguards like safe words, maybe a traffic light system, and just making sure their communication is on point. 

I can see reader trying to/succeeding in riding him but like, he’s still in control and he’s talking her through it (EEEEP). Just them trying out loads of different positions tbh. I can also see her googling and finding new positions to try because he is genuinely the only person she thinks she could ever trust enough to be so vulnerable with. Like even just the vulnerability of asking to try something new, she feels she could only do with him. 

Ok, now let’s say either they’ve started dating or she’s seeing him a lot more of him outside the office, here are some things she discovers about him: 

He loves to read, anything and everything he will devour, but he has a penchant for history and historical fiction, psychology books, and really intense literary fiction. He enjoys classical music and instrumentals, but he also loves some good oldies to just put on in the background. Long walks or hiking is a favoured pastime, anything to get out in nature and enjoy it. His family is of course his everything, they do a big family dinner at least once a month where him and all his brothers and their offspring go to the ancestral home. 

For my UK ppl, he definitely has a National Trust membership (idk if there’s an equivalent in the US or other countries, sorry). He always dresses really well, even in his casual wear. A regular in really high-end good quality t-shirts or smart polo-shirts and trousers. He is disgustingly educated on a variety of topics, and past his psychology degrees and qualifications, he also has degrees in history, economics, and politics. You have absolutely no idea how he has ever had the time. 

A lot of times, his insanely aristocratic upbringing still comes through in simple ways that you have to laugh at. He casually mentions how he is proficient at showjumping horses, drops in that his family owns a Monet and it resides in the summer house. Not in a braggy way ever, just casual and normal. 

His mother raised him right, he always opens the door for you, always walks on the outer side of the pavement, but ensures you maintain your independence however you wish to. He is extremely caring about his family. He’s always ready to go help his brothers at a moments notice, and you can just tell that he’s an older brother. Oh, and one of the best things about him is that he finds joy in doing things that you enjoy. He will do anything with you if it means he gets to see you be happy, whether that be attempting glass blowing, trying a new ice cream place, or just going for the weekly shop. 

Baelor’s professionalism 

This is soooo interesting omggg!! And I also see it being a bit of an issue in their relationship at first. Like they’ve gotten together, happily ever after is meant to start, but you realise that you actually end up monopolising a lot of your conversations with Baelor. You speak a lot to him, but he doesn’t actually offer that much back to you. In the beginning of your relationship outside of the office, you realise you don’t actually know that much about him, and he doesn’t venture it. You two slowly have to work through this where you ask him prompting questions and give him the space to express himself the way he always does for you, and he has to become comfortable with opening himself up to you like that without fearing the effects of being unprofessional. 

This is also a thing that happens in the bedroom. Knowing your history, he is overly careful about initiating sex or guiding the sex in a direction of his specific choosing without it being from your input or from your explicitly stated comfort level. This too you two have to work on. You want him to want things, want him to initiate and introduce you to things, and after you guys have a frank conversation about this, I definitely think he takes a bit more control and you both end up enjoying the hellll out of it. 

Reader’s Insecurity 

Ok, so, usually I try to write my reader as neutral as possible, i.e. no body descriptions, because my biggest goal for my fanfic writing was for it to always be as accessible as possible. But I def think we need more curvy girl representation, and I know that curvy girl body image issues are sooo painful (obvi this applies to everyone with any kind of body image issues but just to be specific in this scenario), and that particularly in intimacy settings, they can be really really difficult to overcome. I do still hope this fic was accessible for everyone to read regardless of your own body, but I’ll discuss this here from a curvy/plus size!reader lens. 

Here are a few situations in which I think the reader would experience negativity and doubt herself, and Baelor would handle the fallout: 

With the recent rise in toxic health culture and this idea that people bring obesity onto themselves or that being plus size or curvy is always a sign of bad health, I definitely think a situation could arise in which a friend or family member is being really fatphobic in the way they discuss health and bodies. Like I’m imagining that it’s not directed at reader, but someone in her vicinity is discussing this stuff in a really negative and insulting manner, and she takes it on to herself. Like it’s so easy to spiral when you are sensitive about something and even if what someone says isn’t directed at you, you can take it on and apply it to yourself really easily. 

So I can see her really curling in on herself and feeling extra bad about her body, and Baelor notices that she’s being extra touchy and jumpy about her looks and figure, and they eventually end up talking about it, and they have a proper healthy discussion about bodies and the difference between managing weight for health versus just naturally carrying fat on different parts of the body but it being totally normal and nothing to overthink about. 

I also see a situation arising from social media use. It happens gradually, where she’s been watching reels or tiktoks for a while, and suddenly she’s getting a lot of fashion content, and she’s noticing it’s a lot of women who look nothing like her. And usually she can be a bit better at separating that from herself, but sometimes there are days where it is easier to fall into the pit of comparing herself to others and when a day like this occurs, Baelor can spot it really easily. He always makes sure to talk to her about these things and promote body positivity in whatever ways he can around her. He also makes sure to remind her to talk to her therapist about this because he wants her to gain that confidence and love in herself from herself, not just from him validating and comforting her. 

(I want to be really careful talking about this because it is definitely a very nuanced discussion, so I really hope I have not said anything ignorant or unintentionally insulting thus far. I also want to punctuate this with a reminder to anyone reading that your body is beautiful because it is yours. There is nothing wrong with wanting to be healthy, but the aim should be health, not visuals, because all bodies are beautiful regardless!)

Another situation that you mentioned there, about the age gap or his weird preference, I can see this happening with maybe a friend or family member. Like they think they are just trying to protect her by suggesting that she be careful, that he might be one of those men that only wants a younger woman or that he has some fetish for curvy women, but this actually just ends up making reader feel awful and makes her feel like she can’t be loved for herself but for these characteristics and labels that supposedly make her up. 

I think she would have a hard time bringing these up to Baelor, these are things that actually make her feel quite fragile. But let’s say he finds out somehow, I can see this as being something that actually makes him really angry. He really loves reader and to find out that someone is saying such things to her really aggravates him. He is usually very level headed and calm and tries to communicate his anger in a non-combative way, but this time, she actually witnesses Baelor’s anger, and I think that weirdly ends up being super reassuring for her and calms her right down instead. 

Physical Desire 

I kind of just want to say: yes. Yes to everything you wrote. I can definitely see her making that connection of his physicality as proof of desire, whether it’s conscious or unconscious. When he clocks it, he definitely makes it a priority to make sure she understands that just because his body is not reacting a certain way does not mean that his mind is not still insanely attracted to her. 

The first scenario, I can see happening as a bit of a surprise. Like a few days ago they had discussed this, and Baelor had let it lay then, but she’s come back home from work, she’s a little tired, feels a little icky and just not at her best, but her and Baelor are having a nice little makeout session on the sofa. It’s about to go further but he stops her and has her sit in front of him and tells her to stay as she is. She feels really insecure, starts saying that she should at least change, have a shower, freshen up, etc, anything to suggest she doesn’t look good. But he tells her that he is attracted to her just as she is, and he jerks off in front of her right there. She feels so flattered and out of place and hyperaware but soooo confident, and she definitely jumps on him right after. 

I think with erectile dysfunction, it can go two ways. So if she doesn’t realise the cause behind it, I think she would doubt and feel bad, but I also think in other scenarios he would calmly explain it to her, and sort of redirect and give her pleasure instead to take her mind off it because he knows how her overthinky brain works. 

I.e. let’s say he’s really exhausted after a full day of clients, and he went out for a drink with Maekar after work, so alcohol and exhaustion are not a good mix for an erection. He gets back and he’s a little tipsy so they start making out and getting a bit handsy but she realises he isn’t getting hard and the alcohol is making him really snoozy so he kind of just ends up drifting off in her arms (but he’s smiling and looks really happy) so she feels really weird and sad. But then the next morning he would explain what happened and she would sort of go ‘oh’ but I do think it would sit in her mind for a while after still. 

As opposed to another night where he’s also really exhausted, and he had a drink but not enough to be loopy but enough to affect his erection, and he just calmly explains to her that it has nothing to do with her, and then he would say something about how this doesn’t mean they can’t do anything else, and he would go down on her to distract her.