Chapter Text
It’s a house. Not a castle, a simple house. It’s almost isolated, not too far from civilization, but there is wood as neighbors. The front is clean, from what Valarr could see there were a few plants. Someone lived here.
“A house.”
“It seems like it, yes.” Aegon sounded almost like he thought he’s stupid for even mentioning, as clear as it was.
“Who lives there?” Valarr’s eye was itching. Most likely due to the sweat mixed with dust that has been clouding in it. His violet eye was covered with an eye patch, to be safely hidden as he traveled as no one could have the slight idea of who he was. Egg’s eyes weren’t too noticeably violet, so he could just go out and about as he pleased, as long as he hid his hair.
“You’ll know when you get there, cousin.” Cousin, not King. This was the closest Valarr felt from Aegon in a long time. The jolly, scrawny kid used to look at him with admiration, then there was a shift in Aegon’s personality, due to adolescence, he supposes, but they aren’t as close as they used to be.
There was also all of the pain of growing up and understanding the place he's in. He’s a Targaryen prince, he’s got responsibilities now, a married man, with a wife and a child, Betha is expecting the second. Aegon visits to solve some matters, then he’s back to hide at Summerhall, somewhere Valarr himself wishes he could live at, even though there are ghosts in Summerhall haunting the family.
The tragic death of Aerion, followed by Daeron’s that broke Maekar to no end. Aegon was his only son left, who tried to remind his father he still had children, but it’s said Aegon gave up, leaving his father to his depression.
At the time, King Baelor commanded Maekar to leave Summerhall and he was put directly in his council where he drowned himself in work. Maekar resented his brother for not naming him hand of the King immediately, but Valarr gave him this honor, as he believes his Uncle is more than capable and the best and closest person to the role.
Aegon, as the one with a story with Ashford, was the most fit person for Valarr to ask about the drawing Valarr found. It was in a drawer in his father’s royal chambers, now Valarr’s own. It was looking at him, as if waiting for him to find it, words unsaid by his father, but yelled at the same time. His cousin was too reluctant at first, but from his look he knew what it meant when he saw it, Valarr used the feelings that flashed in his eyes to convince him to tell him what that meant, Aegon dared him to come along and he’ll show him. That’s why he’s on a one day trip with his cousin, both pretending not to be who they are, but Valarr is willing to take the risk.
Valarr stepped forward, Aegon following right behind. His cousin was the only person that could help him in this task, the only one he could trust amidst so many other people, even the trustworthy Kingsguards.
Taking a breath, Valarr knocked. There wasn't a response, it's quiet as if there was nobody in. He looked at Aegon. His cousin approached the door.
“It's me, Egg. Open up please.”
Aegon said so with familiarity. Valarr knew he was right at the same moment.
Just like this the door opened, Valarr had to look up to meet blue eyes, a smiling, welcoming face that fell the moment his eyes spotted the stranger in front of him, he looked at Aegon, questioning, Valarr couldn't stop looking at him.
“I'm sorry, Dunk.” Aegon said and somehow, those words reached Valarr's heart like a dagger.
The man is the tallest person Valarr had always led his eyes on, he’s got a hair that falls close to his shoulders and face hair, still he’s an Omega. It’s not common for Omegas to possess facial hair, but this is not a regular one in any way. Though his scent was unmistakingly of an Omega. The Omega stared at Aegon’s apologetic face and then to Valarr’s curious one. He nodded, as if in acceptance.
He led them both into the house, a simple, but neat place. Everyone was now sitting down on the chairs around a wooden table. Valarr couldn’t stop staring at the host, who’s uncomfortably fidgeting in his place, still his hands are on top of the table, you’re the King but this is still my house, the silent, subconscious message that Valarr caught.
Aegon left them to talk in private. His name is Dunk, a strange name and this is the man who Aegon squired for when he ran away from his family during a tourney. The situation was talked about for a while among the family, but easily forgotten. Baelor told him how upset Aegon was he was forced to leave his knight behind and everyone had the belief Aegon would forget about him, but there Valarr is, in the house of that man. It seems like their family underestimate Aegon’s loyalty to this knight of his.
“An Omega knight is very rare, almost unheard of” Valarr said, drinking from the tea Dunk offered him. It’s warm and it goes soft down his throat, it’s not tasty, but it feels like comfort. Omegas can't be knights, that's biology, but looking at Dunk, anyone could mistake him as an Alpha.
“Well, at least I was.” The man looked to his direction, Valarr learned from his father he shouldn’t shy away from stares, but there was something in this one that made him uneasy. Too blue, too strange. “I fell ill… there were sequelae so i couldn’t carry the life of a hedge knight anymore.”
“I am sorry.”
“It has been a while.”
Valarr needed to get to the point, he can’t stay forever, he needs to ask the right questions.
“Ser Dunk,” he started, swallowing hard. He would drink the tea Dunk offered earlier, but he shouldn’t look nervous in front of this man. “I am here because I think my father led me to this place, somehow.”
Dunk frowned, as if he was confused with what Valarr meant. “Back then… Did you have the chance to meet my father?”
“I did yes.”
Valarr stared, but something inside of him was churning, he’s really at the right place. Though it’s hard to pick what this man has to do with his father. A hedge knight, one that apparently got ill and it was bad to the point he wasn’t even a knight anymore, an Omega one.
“Your father vouched for me to join the lists. My-” he licked his lips, Valarr watched the gesture. “I was squire to Ser Arlan of Pennytree, but he perished before we got to Ashford Meadow. No one of the lords there remembered him, though he served many of them. Prince Baelor was the only one who did and I could join the tourney.”
There was admiration in Dunk’s eyes as he spoke and something else. Valarr knew this story from one of the Kingsguard who accompanied his father to that tourney, but his own family never mentioned it. They said the hedge knight Egg squired for was impressive for his status, he was having a good run until he was unhorsed by prince Aerion who killed his horse on purpose. Aegon never seemed to have love for his brother and apparently things got very sour between them after they were back in the castle.
“And then Egg squired for you.” Valarr asked, Dunk nodded. “Is that all?”
“I don’t quite understand, your grace.”
“Why does my father want me to meet you, Ser Dunk?” Valarr didn’t want to sound too judgemental, nor demanding, but they need to get to the point as soon as possible.
Valarr placed the drawing of an elm tree and a star his father did, on the table, Dunk grabbed it and looked at it. Emotion going through his eyes, there was a slight tremble to his hand. He placed the drawing on the table again, close enough Valarr could grab it, he didn’t.
“This is my-” Dunk looked up, the bluest eyes again, they were glowing with unshed tears. “My sigil… from the tourney. Your father advised me I couldn’t wear the same as my old Ser, for we are not of the same blood.”
Dunk just stared at Valarr, as if he didn't know how to say the next words. “Prince Baelor drew the sigil for me.” Valarr said nothing, waiting for Dunk to give him more information. “I still have it… with me.”
“He drew your sigil for you.”
Valarr looked at Dunk, looked well at him, questioning. Something was developing in his mind and he can’t possibly tell why. He looked up and down at the man in front of him, seeking for answers.
“Excuse me.” Dunk said and got up from his seat, Valarr didn’t move an inch. A minute later he was back, carrying a shield. It was just like the drawing, but more beautiful. An elm tree, ridiculously green at the sunset and a falling star. It’s old, but it looks like it’s well cared for all these years. “There was a puppeteer crew there and one of them, a girl, she painted it for me, based on the drawing. I was really happy with the result.”
“Who are you to my father, Ser Dunk?” Valarr had no more time to waste. He needs to go back to his duties as soon as possible. It would be a disaster if the people found out the King is out of Kingslanding, if their enemies found out… Dunk stopped talking, holding the shield closer to himself, Valarr felt bad for the way the smile left his lips and the glow left his eyes.
Then hurried steps could be heard, as well as voices, someone clearly barged into the house and Valarr looked at Dunk, who actually was looking scared. Aegon arrived right after the person, apparently he was trying to stop them from barging into the room, unsuccessfully.
It was a man, a boy? He couldn’t tell, his hair was short, with the same dirty blonde as Dunk’s, he was tall, just like him and he looked at Valarr with something in between curiosity and anger, he placed himself in front of Dunk, looking protective of him. Valarr was frozen in place, he looked at the man’s eyes, they were mismatched, like his own, like his father’s, blue and black, but there was something even more familiar about him.
“Father, who is this?” He asked, Dunk said something to calm him down, Valarr didn’t listen. Aegon was already beside the newcomer, holding his hand carefully in a display of affection Valarr only saw him show for his kids. Valarr suddenly felt hot all over, as if he was about to collapse from a strange weight placed upon him.
“Pay your respects to the King, Arlan.” Dunk said and the blonde boy looked at Valarr again, he got on his knees.
“Your grace.”
Valarr just stared, speechless. He looked at Dunk again, just waiting for a confirmation.
“Rise.” the boy rose to his feet, he was behind his father now, looking down at his feet.
“It’s exactly what you’re thinking, your grace.” Valarr isn't sure what he was supposed to be thinking, he couldn't think. “He’s your brother.”