baelor's dowager princess

But her father didn’t care. He hadn’t even bothered to ask how she felt about it. He’d simply handed her over like a prize, expecting her to smile and bow to Aemond, as if she owed him her devotion. Aemond. The man barely spoke. Half the time, it was like she didn’t even exist to him. Cold, stiff, and always so composed. She swore she could scream in his face and he’d just stare right through her with those sharp, calculating eyes, silently judging her.

She’d tried to make an effort. Tried talking to him, initiating conversations, anything to break through that icy exterior. But every time, he brushed her off, answering in clipped, controlled words, distant as ever. She wasn’t some ornament, some pretty little thing to be kept out of sight and out of mind. Yet every attempt to get his attention felt like hitting a stone wall.

Fine.

If he wanted to ignore her, she would ignore him right back.

It wasn’t as if he cared about this marriage either. He didn’t even bother to pretend. He was always locked away in his study, working, gods, always working, while she was left waiting like some foolish girl. Waiting for what? A few disinterested words over dinner? A fleeting glance in the hallway? The truth was, she wanted to hate him, and he made it so incredibly easy by acting as though she didn’t exist.

‘I don’t get it. You have his money, he doesn’t want to be with you. Why are you still at home? Come with me to dance tonight!’ her friend had said.

And she couldn’t argue. Why should she stay? Why pretend to care about her marriage when Aemond couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge her presence? So, here she was, sneaking out of the grand house like some rebellious child, holding her heels in her hand to avoid making noise. She was going to dance. Maybe drink. Maybe flirt with someone just to feel alive, to remind herself that she still had choices, no matter how reckless they might be.

She made it to the door, her heart racing with the thrill of defiance, but as her hand brushed the handle, a voice as cold and sharp as a blade cut through the silence.

"Again?" He raised his eyebrow at her as he stood a few steps from her, unimpressed and unamused.

Her heart stopped, her fingers freezing on the door handle. Slowly, she turned around to face him, and there he was, Aemond, standing a few steps away. His eye was fixed on her, unimpressed, his expression cold and unamused. He stood tall, regal, his arms crossed over his chest, and though his voice had been calm, there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Her pulse quickened, not just from fear, but from the sheer audacity of his tone. As if she were the one acting out of line. As if he had any right to question her after months of barely speaking, after ignoring her for so long.

“You don’t care where I go." She shot back, hoping her voice sounded stronger than she felt. “Why should it matter to you what I do?”

Aemond’s expression didn’t change. His gaze swept over her, taking in her dress, her shoes still clutched in her hand, the rebellious fire in her eyes. He took a step closer, and despite herself, she instinctively backed up, her shoulder brushing against the door.

“It matters." He said, his voice low, controlled, and dangerous. “Because you are my wife.”

The way he said it, like it was a fact she couldn’t argue with, only fueled the frustration burning inside her. His wife. His. As if the mere title gave him ownership over her, when he hadn’t so much as shown her an ounce of affection since the day they were wed.

She shook her head with a bitter smile on her face, and after that, she walked out, running barefit to her friend's car at the end of the driveway of the house.

For the first time in what felt like ages, she let herself breathe. The wind from the open window tangled her hair, and the thought of dancing, laughing, and forgetting everything about Aemond, about her father’s plans, about the endless silence, lit a fire of excitement in her chest. She wasn’t a prize to be won, and tonight she’d prove that. She’d reclaim her choices, even if just for a few hours.

The club was a blur of neon lights, pounding music, and bodies moving in time to the heavy bass. She and her friend weaved through the crowd, making their way to the bar, where she ordered a drink, something strong, to dull the lingering bitterness that clung to her like a shadow.

"You go girl." Her friend laughed, handing her the glass. "Let's have some fun."

She smiled, but the triumph she’d expected didn’t come. Instead, Aemond’s cold, dispassionate face flashed through her mind, his voice, that same calm authority in his words, as though he had any right to dictate her life. It grated at her, the memory of him standing there, unimpressed by her rebellion, almost daring her to leave.

But she had left. She was here, wasn’t she? Surrounded by people, music, life. She downed her drink and ordered another.

For a while, it worked. She let the music sweep her up, moving to the rhythm, letting her body loosen, the alcohol sending a warm buzz through her limbs. A stranger approached, smiling, and she found herself flirting, feeling the rush of attention, the thrill of being seen. The stranger's hand rested lightly on her waist, guiding her as they danced, and for a brief moment, she felt like she’d regained control of her life.

She leaned into the stranger, her body moving effortlessly in sync with his. The alcohol had dulled the sharp edges of her thoughts, and in this moment, she craved nothing more than to lose herself, to forget the weight of her marriage, the coldness of Aemond’s gaze, the suffocating expectations. She didn’t want to think anymore; she just wanted to feel.

The stranger’s hand slid up her arm, his touch warm against her skin, pulling her closer. Her heart raced, not with affection, but with rebellion, an act of defiance against the life she had been thrust into. His face was inches from hers, and without thinking, without pausing to consider the consequences, she closed the distance between them and kissed him.

The man immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, his hands slowly darting out to her lower back as he pushed his tongue in her mouth, kissing her quickly, harshly.

She closed her eyes shut, trying to forget everything about her life and just focus on the kiss, on the man in front of her, his hands that moved to her butt, grabbing a handful of her skin and squeezing it.

The man pulled away from her lips and started to kiss her neck, she opened her eyes to look down at him, then, she made the biggest mistake.

She raised her gaze in front of her and she saw him.

Her husband.

Staring right back at her, right behind the stranger that was touching her body and kissing her neck.

Basing on Aemond’s look, he was not happy about that.

She didn’t dare to pull the man away.

It was like a silent battle between her and her husband, where he was silently ordering her to leave the man, and she was showing him just how much she didn’t care about his orders.

Aemond took a step closer, standing right behind the man that kept touching her body and sucking the skin of her neck, pulling her closer against his chest as he slowly started to grind his hips against hers, trying to look like he was simply dancing.

She simply placed her hands on the man's shoulders, and that’s when Aemond smirked.

That took her off guard,she couldn’t understand why he was smirking, but then he looked down at the ring on her finger.

Her wedding ring.

She smirked right back, and without tearing her eyes off Aemond, she leaned towards the stranger's ear.

“I’m married…” She whispered, trying to sound sexual, and she bit her lip. She saw with the corner of her eyes the man’s head snap up, then a grin forming on his face. 

“So young?” He asked with a hint of surprise.

That’s when she looked away from Aemond, to the man in front of her.

“Yeah… But my husband is older, and he doesn't know how to take care of me…” She said, pretending to be sad and frustrated. The man raised his eyebrows and looked at her with a wide smirk.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby.” He squeezed her butt again, pulling her against him. “I can.” He chuckled and kissed her again, unaware that her husband was watching them, and he felt ready to kill that guy.

Then, in a second, the man wasn’t on her anymore, but on the floor, with Aemond’s foot pressed against his chest.

She saw him lean down and say something to the man, but due to the loud musing, she couldn’t hear a word.

Aemond turned and glared at her his nostrils wide open as he panted in fury, he stepped back from the man and grabbed her wrist, dragging her behind him as he strode out of the club.

Without much elegance, he threw her in the car, not so elegantly and slammed the door right after.

She pressed her lips together as she looked at him, walking around the car to get in the driver seat.

“Disrespect me like this-” He growled as he turned on the engine. “Act like a damn whore , “ He slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “Cheat-“

“Cheat?” She repeated, her voice trembling, betraying herself when she tried to sound strong. “We’re not a couple.”

Aemond took a deep breath as he sped up the car, his hands gripping tightly the steering wheel.

“Shut up. Shut. Up.” He growled, his tone of voice suggesting her to follow his order.

She looked out of the window and sank in the seat, spending the rest of the ride silent.

The rest of the car ride was tense and suffocating. The only sound was the engine's roar, and the tension crackling between them like a fire ready to burst. She kept her gaze fixed on the blur of the passing city, arms crossed tightly over her chest as if trying to shield herself from the storm brewing next to her.

Aemond’s grip on the steering wheel was so tight, his knuckles turned white. His eye was trained on the road, but the energy radiating from him was unmistakable, anger, frustration, something darker she couldn’t quite name. The car cut through the city streets with reckless speed, and for a moment, she wondered if he even cared where they were going or if he was just trying to burn off his fury.

They arrived back at the house far quicker than she expected. Aemond barely parked the car before he was out of it, slamming the door with enough force to make her jump. She hesitated, but only for a moment, before following suit, the click of her heels echoing on the pavement as she stepped out. The front door was already open, Aemond standing inside, waiting for her.

The moment she crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her. The sound reverberated through the grand hall, making her stomach drop. She turned to face him, heart pounding, unsure of what would come next. His single eye was fixed on her, blazing with barely restrained fury, but beneath it was something else, something more dangerous, possession.

“You think you can humiliate me like that?” His voice was low, the words dripping with anger.

She lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to back down. "Humiliate you? You've ignored me for months, Aemond. You don’t get to act like you care now. You made it very clear from the beginning that I mean nothing to you."

Aemond’s jaw tightened, his gaze never wavering. “You’re my wife." He said again, as if that explained everything. His voice was cold, but there was an edge of desperation beneath it.

She swallowed, trying to hold his gaze without flinching. “Your wife?!" She snapped, her voice rising. “Being ignored,  pretending we’re something we’re not, this is our marriage. You don’t even care about me, Aemond. You’ve made that very clear.”

Aemond’s eye darkened. “You think I don’t care?”

“You don’t!" She shot back, her frustration bubbling over. “You never speak to me, you never acknowledge me. You’re always locked away, and I’m left here, waiting for... what? For you to remember that I even exist? You never have, not once!”

He took a step closer, his posture tense, coiled like a predator. “You think that justifies what you did tonight? Throwing yourself at some stranger like a common-”

“Don’t you dare!" She cut him off, her voice sharp. “Don’t you dare make this about my behavior when you’re the one who’s treated me like nothing more than an accessory. You don’t get to be angry, Aemond, not when you’ve given me nothing to work with.”

Aemond’s lips pressed into a thin line, his nostrils flaring. His chest heaved as he struggled to contain whatever storm was raging inside him.

“I’ve given you everything." He said, his voice barely above a whisper, though the weight of it hung heavy in the air. “Everything I have, you have. My name. My house. My loyalty.”

“Your loyalty?” She let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t even look at me.”

His eye flickered with anger. “I’ve been patient." He snarled, his voice laced with cold control. “I’ve kept my distance because I didn’t want to force you into something you clearly weren’t ready for. But make no mistake, wife, you belong to me. No matter how much you hate me, or I hate you. No matter what we feel, we are married.”

Aemond stepped closer, towering over her. “I’ve allowed you your space, your defiance, even your rebellion tonight. But no more. This ends now.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse racing. “And what if I don’t agree?" She challenged, though her voice faltered at the end.

Aemond’s smirk returned, dark and dangerous. “You will." He said, his voice as smooth as silk, “Because I won’t give you a choice.”

“Aemond -” She began, but her words were cut off as he tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“You are mine." He whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “And I am yours, whether you like it or not.” He paused as he looked at her face. “This marriage is real." Aemond said, his voice rough. “You don’t get to run from it. You don’t get to run from me.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “And what if I still want to?" She whispered. He immediately wrapped his hand around her neck,  squeezing lightly.

“Then I’ll chase you." He growled. “And you won’t escape.”

Her breath caught at his words, at the possessiveness in them. His eye bore into her, and she felt a sudden anger warming her chest.

She knew that no matter how much she ran, this was her life.

And she couldn't do anything to change it.

“I hate you.” She hissed, her voice filled with venom.

She saw it in his eye, a spark of lust at her words. Her breath got caught in her throat as she looked up at him.

He liked it. It turned him on.

In a swift motion, he closed the distance between them, his hand squeezing her neck. The sudden lack of air sent a jolt through her even if it was for a brief moment. His touch was cruel, it was possessive, commanding.

Before she could react, his lips crashed down on hers, fierce and unrelenting. It wasn’t a kiss of affection; it was a claim, a reminder of the bond they shared, a bond she had tried to forget but could no longer deny.

She wanted to resist, wanted to push him away, but something inside her cracked, the wall she had built around her heart splintering under the force of his kiss. She kissed him back, not out of love or affection, but out of the same defiance that had driven her to the club in the first place.

When he finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads nearly touching. His eye searched hers, his chest rising and falling with the effort of controlling his emotions.

“Run away again, and when I find you, I’ll tie you to my bed.” He growled as he pressed his forehead against hers.

“If I run away again, I’ll make sure you’ll never find me again.” She hissed right back. Aemond groaned and pulled her by her neck closer, his lips slamming against hers again, kissing with all the anger he had inside, all the desire and frustration he grew over the marriage.

“Keep fighting back.” He hissed in her ear. “It only gets me going.” She could feel the smirk against her ear, his amusement, his challenge.

She placed her hands on his chest and forcefully pushed him away, but he only let out a low grunt, taking a small step back. He looked down at her with an amused smirk, and moved his hand behind her neck, pushing her forward and slamming her face against the wall, his body pressing hers from behind.

“Try again.” He growled. She could hear him trying to unbuckle his belt, and she waited until he shifted his attention to his pants to throw herself back to get him off of her and run upstairs.

She managed to take four steps before he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back to him, wrapping his arms around her from behind, one around her middle, the other arm clenching around her throat.

She gritted her teeth as she wrapped her hands around his arm.

“Fuck you-” She managed to say before he bent more his arm to cut her off. He moved his other hand to raise her dress over her legs and ass, leaving her in underwear.

He thrusted his hips forward against her, and her breath got caught in her throat as she felt his big hard cock rubbing against her ass.

He chuckled at her gasp, he kept her close to him by the grip around her neck as he lowered his boxers.

“Do you think you can take it?” He pressed the side of his head against hers. “I know you can't see it, wife, but I assure you, it’s big.” He pressed a hand on her stomach to make her feel it again, and she had to bite back a moan, just at the idea of his big cock filling her so good.

“I’ve had better, husband.” She smirked as she dug her nails in his arm, that was still tightly around her neck. He growled in her ear as his hand on her stomach moved lower, until it found her core.

Without much teasing he slipped two fingers inside and chuckled.

“That’s why you’re so wet?” He started moving his fingers inside her with a fast pace, roughly, making her legs tremble as she tried to close them for too much pleasure so suddenly, in such a short time.

“No, kissing that guy at the club did it-” She choked as he bent further his arm.

Truth was, Aemond was fucking hot when he was angry.

And she was enjoying this game perhaps too much.

She groaned as she tried to close her legs, Aemond pulled his hand away and slapped her butt.

“You’re so wet I won’t even have to properly prepare you, I guess I’ll thank that guy, for wetting my wife for me-” He said in a low growl, then he pressed his forehead against her temple and growled in her ear. “I will spread your walls on my cock-” He moved his hand between their bodies, grabbing his cock and giving it a few pumps before pressing the head against her entrance. “Until you’ll be begging me to stop.” He thrusted his hips forward, making his cock slam inside her, placing a hand on her stomach to keep her still.

“Oh my God – “ Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she moaned loudly, her back arching, her buttcheeks pressing against him as he filled her to the bring, to a point no one has ever reached before.

“You feel it, don’t you?” He chuckled darkly in her ear as he moved back, pulling out almost to the end before slamming inside once again, settling the whole glorious length inside her warm folds.

She sobbed as she got filled again, she could feel him everywhere, rubbing every spot inside her, throbbing against her wet walls.

He started thrusting slowly, but hard, making her jolt forward every time he settled back inside her,

“Not so talkative anymore, uh?” He chuckled as he started to pick up the pace, his hand on her stomach pressing harder. “I know you feel me.” He whispered as he felt a slight bulge against his hand every time he thrusted back. “Even I can feel me.” 

“F-fuck you-” She breathed out, her eyes closed as she tried to focus on pleasure and not at the slight discomfort of having something that big inside her. “I hate your small dick just as much as I hate you.” She grunted, trying to sound believable, but the laugh she heard from him let her know that she failed miserably.

“Small dick? Is that all you can do?” 

He smiled and moved his hand lower, back between her legs, his fingers quickly found her clit and started rubbing it quickly. She arched her back violently as she bent her legs, crying out and trying to close her legs to stop his hand, Aemond’s arm around her neck was the only thing keeping her on her feet, her legs slowly starting to turn jelly as he kept with his merciless pounds, always harder.

The only sound filling the room was his grunts and her pants, along with the sticky wet sounds on his cock as it slipped in and out of her, his balls hitting her ass every time he filled again.

His tip caressed her sweet spot every time it rubbed its way inside, then it hit another spot she didn’t know she had, way deeper, sending shivers of pleasure through her. In addition his fingers never stopped stimulating her clit, bringing her edge dangerously close.

“For fucks sake, you’re leaking-“ He grunted as he kept thrusting inside her with a punishing pace.

She moaned and tilted her head back, her mouth agape, she felt unable to properly think of a sentence or an insult, anything.

She was completely out because of his husband's long, thick, wonderful cock.

Aemond looked down at her, finding her eyes lost in pleasure, her dumbfolded expression as he fucked her raw was almost too much for him.

Almost.

He suddenly picked up a faster pace, hugging her chest with his free arm as he slammed harder against her, making her let out sounds he had never heard before.

“I know you want to come.” He growled in her ear. “Because you love this dick.” He smiled as she head a particularly loud moan, then her walls started to squeeze him inside, massaging his cock tightly, asking him to never leave that wet heat he was enveloped in.

“There, baby. Come.” He moaned as he choked her a bit more, and his words seemed to be enough for her.

Her whole body shook violently against his, and she would have fallen over if he wouldn’t have been keeping her up.

He moaned loudly as she tightened even more that he expected, and with a low growl, he slammed his cock as deep as it could go, staying there and enjoying every little squeeze she gave him.

He moved only when she calmed down. He pulled out and pushed her towards the back of the couch, making her bend over it.

“What? Get off me! I can’t-“ She gasped and stopped herself when he smacked her bottom, hard enough to leave a red print of his hand. 

“What did I say?” He said as he pushed right back into her, making her arch her back immediately and stood up. He pushed right back on the couch, keeping her firm with a hand on the back of her neck. “You’ll be begging me to stop.”

He quickly started to pound into her again, looking down at his cock getting wetter by the second, as it disappeared in her folds.

“Fuck! Ah — Aemond-“ She moaned as she tried to hold on to everything she could find.

“Yes? What is it?” He chuckled darkly, waiting for her pleas.

She groaned loudly and squeezed the cushions of the couch in her hands, wanting to beg him to stop and let her rest, but too stubborn to actually do it.

“Fuck you!” She shouted, but that only spurred him more. He slapped her butt again, the he grabbed a handful, pressing her cheeks apart so he had a clearer view of what he was doing to her.

He started to feel his orgasm reaching, but he wanted to make her come again first.

“Look at you -“ He panted. “Here I thought you were so rebellious, but it took me only a night to make you bend over for me.” He laughed. She could feel her cheeks burn hot with anger and embarrassment at his words. 

He felt her clench around him, and with a low grunt, he started to slam in her harder, deeper.

“I’ll make sure every night, every day, that you won’t be able to use your pretty legs to run off again.” He snarled.

She moaned as she felt the couch starting to squeak under her, the force of his movements was breaking the damn couch.

“Christ — Aemond- Wait-“ She mumbled as she panted.

“Keep begging.” He smiled. “I like that.” 

“The couch —“ She gasped. “It’s breaking -“

“I don’t care about the fucking couch. I’ll buy one where I can fuck you as hard as I want.” He growled, his pace never relenting. “Now come again.”

He threw his head back, trying to hold back his orgasm, waiting for her to come, and basing on how her walls were squeezing him, she was right there.

“Fuck!” She moaned loudly as she came again, waves of pleasure ran through her body, stronger than before, taking her breath from her.

“Yes — Fuck — I’m gonna come —“ He moaned, his pace quickening. “I’m gonna come inside you, wife -“ He panted loudly as he slammed his hips into her one last time, grabbing her hips to pull her back against him, trying to come as deep as he could inside her.

He leaned forward, his body covering hers.

“I don’t want to see a drop come out of you as we walk in the bedroom.”

"Do not give me hope, I beg of you." You sighed as you snipped away another loose curl. 

You could not see his face as you stood behind him, yet you knew a mischievous smile had surely found its way upon his lips.

Baelor had been tasked to attend the tourney at Ashford in a week's time alongside Valarr, Maekar, and his sons. You could not say precisely why, but ever since he had spoken of the journey, a quiet dread had settled upon your heart, tightening around it with each passing day. 

More than once you had tried to persuade him not to go, yet he had insisted it was good for House Targaryen to strengthen its ties with the lesser houses. As much as you wished to object - even if it meant clinging to his boots until he relented - you understood the truth you had accepted long ago.

Baelor belonged to the realm before he ever belonged to you.

So you decided to steal him away from the endless weight of duties and drew the chamber doors closed, determined to grant him a proper trim before his journey south. Your fingers wandered gently through his hair, guiding each lock with the comb before the shears followed in a measured pace.

You plucked a single silver strand between your fingers and held it before his eyes. "Hmm. You have grown more of these since the last time I remember." 

One brown eye peeked open. Baelor had grown quite accustomed to your teasing whenever the mood took you. A smile touched his lips as he glanced back over his shoulder.

“So even the blood of dragons must bow before the passing of years.”

"Oh, thanks be to the Seven! Else you Targaryens would never cease boasting." You gently turned his head forward again and resumed your work, carefully evening the hair above his ear.

The silver caught the afternoon light like pale steel woven through black velvet. Yet to your eyes, it only made him handsomer than any youthful knight or lord in all the realm. You would never confess as much. Teasing him was far more enjoyable.

"Are you certain an old prince is fit to ride so far south?" The shears gave another soft snap as more silver strands drifted to the floor. His hair had always been thick, yet it remained surprisingly soft. 

"You could fall from your horse," you pleaded, grasping at one final attempt to sway him from his journey. "Or worse, lose your way in the woods."

Baelor laughed. The sound filled the chamber with the warmth you had long known as home. For a while, he said nothing more, allowing you to finish your work in peace.

"Then perhaps," he said at length, "should this old man meet the Stranger upon the road, my wife may find herself glad enough to wed some younger lord. One with fewer grey hairs."

The words stunned you. Each one found its way to strike somewhere deep within, far deeper than a jest ever should. Has he lost his mind?! Your heart thundered against your ribs as the chamber fell silent. Your lips parted, yet the reply you wished to give refused to come. The shears remained motionless in your hand. You could only stand there, unable to fathom how a few careless words could cut so deeply.

Sensing the silence that had fallen, Baelor turned to look at you. A single tear had already slipped free before you could stop it. You did not even realise you were crying.

The smile faded from his face, replaced by horror as he understood the pain his careless words had caused. "My love, I was only—"

“Have you lost your mind?! I tease you over a few grey hairs and suddenly you are speaking of dying?” You had not meant to raise your voice, but it had carried in your tone all the same. More tears began to pool around your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

He reached for your hand immediately to soothe you, but when you stubbornly refused it, he reached for your waist instead, drawing you effortlessly onto his lap despite your indignant protest. You made the faintest attempt to escape before his broad arms settled tightly and securely around you, forcing you to surrender.

“I am so sorry, my love, my heart, my world. It was a poor jest. I am a foolish old man for saying such a thing,” he said, scattering gentle kisses across your damp cheeks while his thumb brushed away the tears that refused to stop.

“That’s very cruel.” Your voice softened, the anger giving way to something far more fragile. “If the Stranger takes you, I will sail to Valyria myself. I will curse every stone of that forsaken land and tear you back from death if I have to.”

A faint smile touched the corners of his mouth before he raised his hands to cradle your face. “Listen to me,” he whispered.

“Nothing shall part us. Not fair ladies, nor younger lords, nor servants, nor duty, nor any burden this realm may lay upon me." 

He pressed his lips to yours in solemn promise. “And when the Stranger comes, he will find me arguing with him over the hour. Not even death shall hasten me from you.”

The matter of his grey hairs no longer seemed amusing. You almost cursed yourself for having brought it up in the first place, and so you reached up with gentle hands to smooth the silver at his temple. “Do you swear it?” you asked softly.

“I swear it with the whole realm as my witness.” He planted a kiss on the tip of your nose.

You both remained like that for a while, held in each other’s arms, until at last you summoned the composure and grace befitting the future Queen and rose from his lap. “Right, husband. Now let me finish making you look handsome before your journey to Ashford.”

Standing behind him once more, you studied the silver strands you had always loved. Each pale strand was a testament to the years he had spent labouring and sacrificing -  striving to become the prince the realm needed rather than the one it had merely expected him to be.

You wondered if any soul within the Kingdom had ever truly seen the grey upon Baelor’s head and understood the burdens that had brought it there, or if they saw only a prince who had begun to age. Your fingers lingered for a final moment around the silver before the shears began their work.

“What would you have from the south, my dear?” Baelor asked, breaking the silence that stretched. 

“You. Just for you to return safely to me.” The words came simply, though your mind was already haunted by the thought of being left alone in this great castle without his presence for a month.

“Consider it done,” he said. And you believed him, for Baelor had never once broken a promise he had made. There was hope and happiness in those words, enough to make you forget the fear of his leaving.

When at last the trimming was complete, you brushed the stray strands from his shoulders before taking a step back to admire your work with a pleased smile. “There. Now you look every bit the prince you were meant to be.”

You leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to the back of his head, your heart swelling with love and pride. One day, a crown shall rest upon this very head, you thought. And the realm shall be blessed to have such a man upon the throne.

Baelor turned towards you, smiling widely as he always did whenever you fussed over him. Taking your hands in his, he pressed a lingering kiss against your knuckles.

“Thank you, my love. Now I have greater confidence that the South will remember me properly.”