Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The sky was gray the day he buried Ser Arlan,  sad but Dunk couldn't say it wasn't befitting for a man like him. With the wind whipping his hazel hair, the rain ran down his freckled cheeks mixing with his tears. 

The man's death wasn't a drawn out affair, one night he'd been right as rain. The next he was cold as ice, all his life  having drained from his eyes, his scent dull and rotted.

Beneath the shadow of an strong tree was where Dunk laid him to rest. A tree they had leaned against on happier days that now seemed more like a desolate gravestone then a magnificent elm.

In a hollow grave he laid shrunken and weathered man into the dirt, his face looked so much older in death, lifes trails had clearly taken its effects on the knight.

He looks so much smaller than the man I knew.

The gale fell heavy against his back soaking his small-clothes, But he could hardly feel it. The sorrow he felt drowned out all else. Ser Arlan wasn't a man of great renown he was craven and harsh and spoke in riddles and swears that made it hard for anyone to see beyond his thick skin.

An alpha through and through with a scent like spring ale and birch smoke. It was heavy and thick and at times ( especially when he was drunk beyond his wits) oppressive in a way Dunk couldn't stand. 

When he was younger Ser Arlan used to smack his ears and say he'd never met a pup with such a stubborn nose.

Dunk knew he wasn't the best squire though, he remained un-presented even at the age of 2 and twenty. Unheard of for a man his age, he was thick as a castle wall in both brain and body. And uneasy around others for no clear reason. 

He'd always been sensitive around scents even when he tried his hardest, and he ate for two which couldn't have been cheap on a hedge knights unstable salary.  

But despite all else he was the closest thing to a pack Dunk had ever known. 

An old, honorable warrior who fought in plenty a battle and bleed for his duties and the innocent.

After Rafe he'd almost thrown himself into Blackwater bay. Who would want him now, an un-presented freak of nature who towered over most.

  What an odd sight I must have been. 

He'd wandered aimlessly for weeks after her death, trailing after the distance scent of ale and smoke to whatever tavern, or wooden clearing Ser Arlan happened to collapse in for the night. Always out of sight, but he doubted the man could have noticed him even if he sat himself down at his camp. He'd been too lost in his haze of grief and drunkenness to recognize much of the world around himself.

But he saw Dunk for what he was, a boy in need of stability and despite all his faults.

He took him into his fold and made him a squire. 

And Dunk would always be thankful for that.

His harsh scent of smoke and ale made him less then favorable with most. But throughout his life he had been the only real constant. No matter how harsh his slaps or his words. There was a man underneath. 

A man almost like a father.

"Your not the smartest lad in the land but I suppose your something of my own and as long as ya keep to my company- I recon' I'll keep you well enough." he'd mumbled gravely one night, the light of the hearth cast a warmth onto his aged face. Ser always said strange things when the sun went to hide behind the hills. 

His words lost all meaning in the night, and Dunk had grown used to disregarding them as just his usual madness. 

But this was different, his voice when he said those words sounded softer then Dunk had ever known it be. 

And his scent didn't carry its usual unhinged burning. Instead it smoothed into a subtle tone full of something almost like affection.

He'd fallen into a restless sleep soon after  leaving Dunk to dwell in the darkness long after the fire let off its last embers.

And they didn't talk about it the next morning. Or any morning there after.

Dunk doubted Ser Arlan could even recall that night. Must be lost in the remains of his mind buried over gallons of ale, blood and burning madness he assumed. 

But even afterwards they carried on with an unspoken bond in the air that connected them far deeper then blood. Dunk thought to himself that whenever he presented Ser Arlan and him would scent eachother like he'd seen father's and mother's do to their young, even in the wretchedness of fleabottom there was love. 

But Dunk never presented and so he never did.

Neverthuless the warmth of the words spoken that night, inbetween his fits of madness and drunken stupor warmed Dunks heart regardless.

Even when he slapped him so hard that his head rang for days Dunk always remembered his words.

"He never beat when I didn't deserve it...except that time in Maidenspool" he thought wistfully.

"It was the butchers boy who ate the widow woman's pie not me." He spoke into the gale awaiting a clout in the ear that never came.

Ser Arlan was dead. There would be no more stinging slaps or long-winded half-remembered stories of his past primes in knighthood.

All that was of and will ever be of the man was buried under that elm tree.  

"Suppose it doesn't matter now." Thunder neighed behind him echoing after his words. 

 He stares at the disturbed earth that covers what remains of his only kin. And the warmth he'd clung onto for so long dried up and died right then and there in his heart. 

He'd never felt so alone.

"A harsh man to know, but a man I cared for nonetheless." Dunk mumbled as he smoothed the dirt. 

A long forgotten memory sparked in his mind he and Rafe watching as that nobleman took his last breath. His eyes unseeing and briming with pain beneath the corpse of his dead steed. His scent was rotten with the smell of decay like melting crops in the fields and copper , his life's blood trickled down his ashen face, a long trail of red decending from the edge of his pale lips.

"You've got to say his last rites or something!" She'd whispered in his ear. 

"Wha why!?" 

"Ay, I don't know all I know is that when one of these fancy cunts die your supposed to say a few words so they dont end up below with the rest of us." She said exasperatedly shoving up her mask as more of the mans scent poisoned the air. 

The memory ended with a pang in his heart.

Thinking about Rafe was always sweet at first. Until the image of her split skin and red neck flashed in his mind and sent tears spilling down his face all over again. 

Leaving him only the faint embers of a poppies, wet stone and blood. 

Never good to dwell on the dead.

He took a knee and hardened himself against the rains gale. 

"I don't know the right words — ought to be a septon here." 

"But I'll try my best, Ser." He spoke aloud to the feilds hoping that just beyond the sight of men Ser Arlan stood and could hear his words. 

He'd never been particularly devout but for the only man that showed him care he'd muster up all the faith he had left.

"You were a good man, a true knight and strongest alpha I ever knew." 

It wasn't much Dunk could only recall a few alphas off the top of his head.

But it counted all the same.

The words felt like chalk on his tongue choking his throat but he pushed on anyways. Recounting memories of long since past adventures. 

Dragging his mind back into happier times that left a hallow feeling in his chest once they were over.

You can't go back to memories.

"May the father take you into his halls", in the corner of his eye he spied Ser Arlans sword perched against the bark of the elm and took it in his hands. 

"I'd leave your sword, but it would rust in the ground... The gods will give you a new one, I guess. I wish you didn't die, Ser" he mumbled sadly. 

"I'll take good care of the horses I swear it!"

"You were the closest thing to a sire I had. I promise to carry and guard your legacy well." 

That was the best he could say he raked through his wits for better words but greif had carried them off along with the rest of his smarts. 

The horses sounded their hooves and huffed and as the clouds cleared and the suns rays cast down against the dewy grass Dunk rose to his shakey feet. 

With a final sob he rubbed his face into the sleeve of his tunic and shook his head. Ser Arlan always said that greif weakens a man's foundations and the only way to grow stronger is to keep moving.

"And standin here isn't going to make Ser any less dead." he grimaced. 

Shaking the rain from his shaggy hazel hair he grasped the reins of the horses in his grasps, quieting their discontentment with a single swipe of his hands down one of their thick necks. 

He'd always been better with animals than people.

Ser always said his brain was so small because his heart was so large. 

He liked to think that the horses knew that. 

Because Thunder, Sweet foot and Chestnut were all he had left of the knight now.

◇◇◇

The sun warmed his face like a kiss from the mother. He laid on the hills gazing up into the sky watching as the clouds passed. 

Moving with purpose across the bright blue expanse of the Westerosi sky. 

And for a second Dunk almost envied them. They had it all figured out up there high above the common problems of men, content to their ever present responsibility of simply gliding along with the winds guidance.

But Dunk wasn't a cloud 

He was a man

And Dunk remained firmly planted on the ground nestled in the spring grass of the meadows. 

Alone and conflicted.

Without the gentle guidance of anything.

"Could eat like a king if I sold you three," he said quietly to the horses. His only answer was the smacking of gums and huffs of horses.

Because of course, horses don't speak.

And if they did they'd probably still ignore him.

But he continued on anyways.

" My belly would be full for at least a year or two and I wouldn't have to sleep under an tree when it rains." 

Chestnut chewed absently on a mouthful of grass with vigor as he contemplated. Either oblivious or uninterested to the large man's plight.

Probably uninterested.

"B..but then what." 

He was only met with whinneys and sighs.

The uncertainty of the future was baring down on him, and he felt it even more now that his Ser was gone.

The way he saw it that road split into one of 2 paths. Outlawery or beggary, and neither one sounded good.

 He thought about going to a city, like Kings Landing or maybe even Lannisport and joining the ranks of their city watch.

He looked down at the sword in his hands running his fingers down its hilt, stopping at the penny emblem engraved in it and staring deeply.

He rose to his feet and pointed the sword out before him. Imagining a foe so large he blocked out the sun. 

"STOP RAPEING SIR" He bellowed trying his best to imitate the noble knights he'd heard stories of so long ago.

But his voice didn't carry any weight or authority so the demand fell flat. 

His horses didn't even spare him a glance, instead satisfied to busy indulging themselves in a patch of flourishing spring grass. 

"Fits my grip as well as it ever fit his I suppose." 

"And there is a tourney at Ashford meadow." 

A determination burned through him.

"Ashford it is."

And so Ashford it was.

After emptying his bowels against the elm, he packed up all he had and mounted Sweetfoot with a grunt. 

Sparing one last look at the grave beneath the tree, before pulling at the reins and kicking off. Hooves pounded the ground and descended into his uncertain future. 

Never looking back. 

The past was behind him and his knighthood laid before him.

"Ser always meant to knight me" he rationalize "was just waiting til I presented thats all!" 

And besides the only others who could deny his claim were either one: dead or two: furry or feathered and unable to speak. 

To all beyond this meadow he was now a knight.

A knight of the hedge but still an knight nonetheless. 

And the flush beneath his skin only served to bolster his self-confidence. 

The gods must be on his side. 

For a second his nose caught on something sweet as summer. He raised his nose to the air and breathed in deep.

But It was gone as quick as it came, and it faded from his mind with the motions of his horse.

But the scent was there. 

And soon the flush under his skin would make itself know. 

With or without his knowledge.

◇◇◇

Chapter Text

He rode until the sun rose high into the heavens and the sky shifted from a deep blazing azure to a cooling twilight.

 Right as the sun began to dissappear beyond the horizon and the darkness of night consumed the sky he came upon an inn.  Greeted by the smell of something delicious and the warmth of the yellow lights spilling from the windows he rode on up to the stables .

Riding in, he came upon a bald head peeking out from behind one of the horse stalls.

A small boy met his eyes, he couldn't have been older then 12. The soft and milky scent of pup still clung to him lurking just behind the blooming scent of a newly presented Alpha.

Like cinnamon milk and spiced flame.

His rough thread spun cloths hung off his small frame like a rag on a stick and Dunk had to stifle a coo.

He softened just a enough to indulge in the more nurturing parts of himself Ser Arlan hadn't been keen on.

"Your no nanny nor are ya some newly mothered dam with babes fresh to your tits don't go all soft because a pup comes to you with wet eyes and a whimper,  a knight must be strong and strict!." 

The words rang hollow with his absence though. 

Children had always been his soft spot and being kind to a few pups wouldn't make him any less of a knight.

At least I don't think it will? 

"Hello there, are you the stable boy?" He said as he dismounted, trying his best to sound authoritative. 

The boy looked at him flatly his expression unchanged, not even bothering to say anything he just shifted awkwardly. So Dunk got the feeling his faint farce of authority wasn't really received.

He continued regardless. 

"I'd like my palfrey wiped down if you'd please and a meal of oats for all three." 

"Tend to them well." he held his hand out expectantly waiting for the boy to take the reins and run off to do as he was told.

Like Dunk would have done.

Instead the boy looked him up and down and cocked his bald head. Piercing eyes cold as ice met his ocean blues and he felt a shudder fall through him.

As if the bald head wasn't enough the boys eyes were sharp, full of a wisdom that surpassed his appearance. And so strikingly blue they almost bordered on purple. But in the light of the lanterns it was quite hard to tell.

What an odd pup, he just keeps getting odder!? 

"I could, if I wanted." the boy said softly his voice high and proper.

A twinge of annoyance simmered beneath his flush skin. Adding to the fever gradually growing in his body.

"Have I come down with something?" The thought made him sweat slightly, but the heat in his veins wasn't painful by any means and he still felt strong and capable. 

Just oddly warmer?

Shrugging it off and hardening his resolve he spoke to the boy more firmly. 

"None of that! See to the horses!" he shoved the reins into the boys chest. "You’ll get a copper if you do well, and a clout in the ear if not.”

The words sounded rehearsed, like he was restating Ser Arlan's words with not nearly the same amount of command. In reality the idea of raising a hand to this small pup made him feel sick.

But the boy still tenditivly took the reins and Dunk walked into the inn's main hall. 

It was scarcely populated, with only the tavernmaid and a slumped drunkard awake to greet him.

"Sit where you'd like" the woman said.

So he seated himself at a worn oak table in the middle of the room. Watching with wary eyes  upon the slumped figure a short distance from his table.

He was dressed well, with way finer clothes then Dunk had ever worn. His hand still grasped at a flagon of ale as he snored into the candle lit table.

"Must be some lordling, drunk out of his wits."

The candle lit tavern stroked at his hunger and pulled him into a steady sense of comfort. The scent of pine needles and honey laid light in the air from the womans scent. Likely a beta based on its faint aroma, But it was no less appealing.

So Dunk turned his attention back to his hollow stomach and the inn-keep womans suggestions for food. 

Both sounded equally as apatizing so he settled on eating both. "I'll eat for two in Ser Arlan’s honor," Dunk thought. A poor justification for his gluttony but it suited his stomach all the same. 

"Your big enough for it I suppose" the woman said as she tended to his table. "Has my boy gone off to tend to your horses or is he out stirring trouble again?"

At the mention of the strange stable boy Dunk let out a huff. A queer feeling of charm flared up in him and he felt the need to defend the boy.

"No, he’s there, he’s—he’s been a good boy.” the woman let out a chuckle. " You'd certainly be the first to say that." 

Once his food arrived they continued on, making small talk about the tourney and the men on their way to it.

But one thing she said particular stuck out to him.

“Knights are built the same as other men same as other alphas," 

"Suprised your not one, with your build and all."

Being a knight was a trade typically reserved for  alphas, that was true. Dunk being un-presented was definitely unusual in the profession.

Occasionally you'd get a particularly brave hearted beta but that was it. The un-presented were almost always pups and at most young teens. 

Never fully grown men.

Dunk was almost two-and twenty (he thinks?)with only the faint smell of grass and sweat for a scent.

It was embarrassing.

Whenever men saw him they immediately took him for an alpha. And with his impressive stature it wasn't a far fetched assumption.

With the exception of Rafe and Ser Arlan no one had ever really been allowed too close. 

Women and betas used to parade around him eager to see if his "equipment matched his size". But he pushed them all away. 

He'd never been skilled with romance and a single caress against his scent glands would make his brain go all fuzzy in strange ways.

He was too complex. 

The only time he could ever recall laying himself bare with someone other then Rafe and Ser Arlan was with a village whore.

Ser said he needed to-

"Grow some hair on his stones!" So he paid the beta woman half a stag to lie with him.

Truthfully he'd rather forget that experience entirely.

She half-forced and half-beconed him to her bed. 

At first it felt good the way she licked at his nape and fondled at his chest put him in a state he'd never felt before. 

He felt like he was floating and It was intoxicating.

But then she brought her hands to his pants

And the way she had laughed at him when she pulled his trousers back and saw a cunt instead of a sword still brought flames to his face.

"HAHa-And here I thought you were just some a pretty faced alpha but look at this!"

"You're as bare as a maiden down below!" She cackled so hard Dunk was worried she'd choke to death on her own laughter.

"God's must have gotten confused halfway through with you! You have the stature of a alpha the scent of a pup and the face of some pretty slut!"

"Maybe you should be the whore and I the squire!"

They left the village soon after that and Dunk soon pushed her to the foreground of his mind.

Plenty of alpha women weild cocks so why is it so bizarre that he bares a cunt, it wasn't odd aslong as he kept it to himself.

"What people dont know won't hurt em."

As time passed people still look at him as if he were an Alpha but once they realized he lacked a dominating scent, or any characteristics alphas usually had their stares just turned to sneers. 

Nothing Dunk wasn't used to but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Eagerly he had awaiting for anything to reveal his designation but nothing ever came.

No rut or a pain in his jaw from alphan fangs piercing through his gums.

Or a faint change in scent signaling his beta based presentation.

Nothing.

Just the barren scent of sweat and grass that hung on him from his travels. At first, Ser had assumed it was because of his malnutrition, from his years spent crawling through fleabottom in an ever present quest for food and shelter.

Fleabottom wasn't the place for presentation after all, a moment of weakness could have you ripped to peices.

But as the years dragged on and he still remained unchanged Ser Arlan just shrugged and said "Your time will come when it comes, Lad." 

He never really dwelled on it when he was riding along side Ser. 

"But now'es gone and now its all all I can think about ." he thought bitterly.

They never had enough money for a measter to examine him, so Dunk quietly decided that he must be just the strangest beta around.

Because there was no other option.

Not for him at least.

The tavern maid took his coin and her leave shortly after that leaving Dunk to the comforts of the flickering candle light. The mood was relatively relaxed.

That was until the lordling rose from his heap with a chuff. Meeting Dunks meek eyes with an almost feral glint in his violet gaze. 

"Odd people all about this Inn?" Dunk thought to himself.

"I..I ddreamned ovf~you*hiccup*" he slurred his speech thick and his breath sour with ale. His alphan fangs bit at his plush lower lip as he tried to focus himself. Running a hand through his light blond hair. 

Dunk didn't know how to respond to that so he just gaped and blinked.  Words always seemed to fail him when he needed them most. 

"Uh.."

"Yourr~tha-t shooting..s..st starr" the man hiccuped, and squinted up at the brunette, trying to see through the haze of drunkenness that consumed him.

"Om- He looked like he had more to say but a deep fog settled in his head and he seemed to loose his train of thought. 

He almost reminded Dunk of Ser for a moment,

Until the man took out a dagger from his leather sheath and pointed it at him.  Dunk went pale thoughts racing through him.

He felt like a deer frozen at the point of an arrows path. 

Before he could gather any sort of defense, the man growled, sending vibrations like waves into silence. 

"STay AwaY from uS, Y..Yyou hear Me" he rasped like his throat was garbled by rocks. But the threat was clear either way. 

"Its..-for the...best!"

Now that almost sounded like a warning.

Dunk just stared "milord?!" 

Then as quick as he came he left with his staggered drunken footsteps fading deeper into the inn. Leaving only a handful of coin and the scent of amber, elderberry and fire wine. 

Once he was gone Dunk let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in. 

When the tavernmaid came back with his food and laid it before him with a smile he pushed the interaction out of his mind and focused on quelling his hunger for the ride ahead.

 Afterwards, deciding he was done with this place, and not wanting to overstay his welcome especially in an inn ocuppyed with strange boys and lordlings he declined the offer from the tavernmaid and stepped out into the crisp air of the spring night. 

Taking in a deep breath he decided to take to his horse and ride through the night. A few hours on horseback was nothing compared to the long days he'd spent with Ser Arlan.

"Might even clear my mind"

He'd just have to hope the road would be safe and take to it bravely.  But before he could he found the boy aloft Thunder hootin and shouting, portraying himself as a great knight clad in Sers unfitted armor. 

A bolt of worry overtook him for a moment, What if he gets hurt!

Ser's words flashed in his mind.

A knight must be strong and strict

"OI" 

"My lord!" The boy sputtered, flushed at being caught red handed.

"You thief"

"I..I didn't not mean to offend you!"

Swift but gentle he swiped the boy off of Thunders back, receiving a chuff of gratitude from the horse. At least he thought it was gratitude, you could never tell with Thunder.

"Take that armor of you, Now!"

If Ser had been there he would have given the boy a stinging slap so hard it would have left the back of his head bright red. But Dunk couldn't bring himself to it.

He'd always been weak to children, with their wide eyes and insatiable joy. Looking up and down for any bruises or scrapes and finding none he let out a sigh.

Unable to bring himself to harming the boy he settled on scolding him instead.

"What in the seven hells do you think your doing!?" He raged, the boy didnt even have the decency to look guilty not shying away at all. 

"Thunders a war horse not some boys pony! Your lucky he didn't kick you to the ground!" 

Instead of responding the boys stared at him for a moment and leveled a quizzical look up at the hedgekight, holding Ser Arlans helm under his arm.

"I could ride him as well as you!" the boy said cheekily. Ending his statement with a little growl that sounded more like a kittens hiss.

For a moment all Dunk could do was sputter.

"Wha..-Ahem Close your insolent mouth!" grabbing Ser's-...His sword in his hands as he puffed himself up.

"I'm a knight i'll have you know" usually the announcement of one being a knight commanded respect but the boy just looked at him with an even blanker expression.

"You dont look to be a knight" 

Whats with this kid!?

"Wha all knights look the same do they?"

"No but they dont look like you either thats for sure." 

Blood flushed in his cheeks and he had no doubt his ears were bright red. Am I allowing myself to be toyed with by a simple sassy stable boy?

The boy pointed to his belt and said flatly "Your belts made of rope." Dunk sheilded himself behind his cloak, all the sudden feeling distinctly selfaware of his worn clothing. 

“So long as it holds my scabbard, it serves.” Ser Arlans belt was too tight on him so a humble rope was all he had. 

"Are you off to the tourney then?"

"Yes"

This answer seemed to spark an interest in the boy. 

"Do you mean to enter the lists?"

“Oh’Course I am,” Dunk fumbles , “I’m a knight, aren’t I? I mean to win the tourney.”

A spark grew in the bald pups strange eyes. 

"Then can I come with you. Oh please please please!" Dunks eyes widened taken aback by the boys  renued vigor. 

"I can be your squire seeing as you have none!"

Dunk grimaced the life of a squire wasn't pleasant,  glorious images war and the prestige of knighthood kind of died when you squired for knights. Death loomed over every battle.

And room and board were never guaranteed.

The hunger that settled into your bones during the long rides in-between jobs was something Dunk would never wish to push onto another.

Especially a pup full of such conviction and adventure. 

No matter how snarky he may be.

"No" the words felt final.

The boys face immediately fell, like the words absolutely crushed him. And the sight of it left a slash in Dunks heart. 

"Have I always been this soft?"

Dunk steeled himself against the wetness he saw brimming in the child's eyes." He has a good life here at the inn, a better one than he'd have squiring for a hedgeknight. Taking him would be no kindness."

Sucking up the next pang of sadness that stuck him in his side he saddled up his horses and began the ride to Ashford. 

Alone.

◇◇◇

Chapter Text

Ashford meadow was truely a sight to behold, Dunk had seen dozens of tourneys throughout his time as a squire but this was in a league of its own

Dozens of brightly colored Pavillions dotted the feilds like flowers, great houses hung their tapestries from the sides of their tents.

The smell of the common folk lingered throughout the maze of tents. Alphas and betas moved in tandem, setting up shop.

Joy, confidence and merriment mixed together into a scent that just screamed opportunity.

As Dunk rode through the crowd he couldn't help but awe at the great house that hung their flags high.

"Maybe if I do well here I could join the service of one of these houses!" Dunk thought aloud.

A tourney is a big time for marketing and house Ashford was making sure to put their best foot forward. Their sigil hung from every nook of their humble castle. 

Being surrounded by so many houses of great nobility and renown, made Dunk feel small.

He may be just a lowly commoner but knighthood is his way out. A way to rise above it all. Defy all the restrictions placed on his class and finally make something of himself. 

It sounded idealistic, sure.

But hes nothing if not a dreamer.

◇◇◇

He knew he was no knight of the kings guard, but he'd assumed that his position as a hedgeknight would be enough to carry him into the tourney at least.

It was not,

Apparently it wasn't enough to proclaim yourself a knight. Especially when the only ones able to affirm his claim of knighthood were his horses and a songbird barely a leg to stand on.

You had to have a presence, a title, and something that just screamed you were an alpha knight ready to preform.

Dunk had even less then that.

And when the man, Ser Plummer, asked for his he could only stutter and state himself as.

"Ss..ser Dunk...- im technically un-presented as of late.., Milord" 

Plummer raised an eyebrow at that but didn't dwell on it for long.

Dunk knew he wasn't exactly a knight of great importance. He was exactly the opposite of what the Lord Ashford wanted in his tourney.

And as he laid out his polished lie of how he was knighted he felt a lump rise up in his throat so large it made him queasy and the flush beneath his skin rose to his face highlighting his freckled cheeks. 

Then after he had said his tale Plummer seemed even less interested, swatting at a fly that circled his cups and spitting into a bowl.

"Any knight can make a knight its true." 

"Were there any witnesses to your dubbing?"

Dunk shuffled his feet, "Only a Robin and a thorn tree." he said honestly hoping the nervous chuckle on his voice came off as aloft.

"I'll tell you this lad."

" My, Lord Ashford fancies himself of great import, and I'm to ward of every landed knight and sellsword vying to challenge." Plummer said bristling.

"There are princes about."

Dunk felt his heart sink, it seemed knighthood was closed of to him at every turn. Who was he to go against noble knights, lords and princlings.

Just a humble hedgeknight, just a step above a sell sword.

And leages away from the gentry of prince's.

He was just Dunk

"Oh..-oh of course... my apologies for wasting your time,"

"Maybe this is what I get for lying " Dunk thought solemnly as he turned to leave. Just as he was turning the lock upon the old oak door, Plummer let out a sigh so deep it sounded as if he was breathing out all the days trouble, rubbing the wrinkles upon his face. 

"Hold on, your late master?"

"If he was what you spoke then he'll be known to the true knights assembled here" the beta man said taking pity on him.

A banner sparked in Dunks mind, House Dondarion! "Ser Arlan served Ser Manfreds late lord father in Dorne!"

"He'll remember us!" Joy sparked in Dunks crestfallen heart.

. The beta man sniffed the air his nose seeming to catch on something sweet before it disappeared behind something much more rank.

"Ey, by scent alone I suppose."

"Should he vouch for you in good honor then I shall be obliged to enter you into the lists."

"I only need for someone to vouch for me?" 

"Yes that is what I said."

Sorrow sunk away from his face as he rejoiced at the newly given opportunity.

Dunk flushed and nodded 

"As you say milord!"

Internally Dunk was beaming 

 This seemed a way easier of a task then becoming a knight of great renown by the marrow.

He and Ser Arlan had fought in the ranks of many a highborn house. Ser Arlan had bled and killed for their sake.

What house wouldn't be keen to repay such a small favor!?

Preening Dunk left in higher spirits then he had came. He was just about to exit before he was the beta let out another "ahem" halting his escape.

"You are aware that those who lose forfeit their arms, armor and horse to the victor and must ransom them back?"

Dunk did not know that but his mouth spoke differently.

" E-ey! "

"And you have coin to pay such a ransom."

" God's no" Dunk said breathlessly, Plummer stared at him unimpressed. 

Sensing his mistake Dunk raced to correct himself.

"I mean I won't have need of coin, I intend to win." it sounded much more arrogant then Dunk had ment it to be. But he moved on regardless hitting his head against the doorway.

"SE-ven Fuckin-" 

Once outside Dunk began to dwell on his situation. 

A ransom could end his path before he even truely began on it. "One loss, and I won't be able to ransom back my own horse."

But that was for later, he could only handle one trial at a time and for right now all he needed to do was find a noble man open to vouching for him.

That couldn't be that hard?

Right ?

◇◇◇

Dunk was wrong, like usual but this one stung a little more.

For some reason beyond his understanding Ser Manfred Dondarion slept like a bump on a log even in the prime of day.

When he came across his tent intent on gaining his support he'd been turned away with hardly a glance. 

The two pretty beta whores perched outside of the Dondarion tent laughed at him when he explained himself.

And when he couldn't bring forth a stag to entice the women to wake the lord.

They called him a" A sadder knight " and left his ears flushed red by the end of their ridicule.

"Uh I'm-uh not sad?" 

"Es got ta sleep in the hedges because no lord will hav' it"

"Aww"

"That is sad"

Dunk felt himself growing more and more flustered by the second as the women began to scour every detail of his huge frame, scrutinizing everything. The spoke as if he wasn't standing in front of them.

"Ay lad have you every thought about going us under the sheets? An alpha like you's got to be hanging low and this lord gets kinda boring after the first round ?" the woman (Red) cackled brazenly.

Dunk flushed even more as another round of laughter tore through the women.  Dunk raced to find some words of defense but his mouth just hung slack with nothing to say. 

"I'm no good with words, and worse with women"

"Or perhaps your the replacement whore? You may be massive but your face is well enough, almost cute from this angle?" the other beta asked, her ruby hair flowing in curly locks down her pale shoulders. 

She was pretty, if Dunk wasn't actively breathing in her faint flowered scent he could have almost assumed she was an omega. He imagined they were as pretty as her. 

Possibly he's not sure. Ser never elaborate on their appearance only said that they were pretty.

Pressing on Dunk tried to ask when Lord Dondarion would wake. 

But the whores said to try again at evenfall.

Unsure on how to take their words Dunk stood still for a moment.

Before the pale skinned one shooed him away with a wave of her perfect hand.

Rushing from the two he grabbed the reins of his horses once more and left the pavilions lawn without a second glance, his face still beaming red.

"Can you believe that Sweetfoot, they spoke to me without a modicum of decency!?" The horse only snorted as a reply but Dunk took it as a sign the horse was on his side regardless.

"I'm not sad." 

"Besides Ser always said that a hedge knight was the truest knight." 

After a breif encounter with the two Fossoway cousins, the Alpha Ser Steffon Fossoway and his much more tolerable beta cousin Ser Raymun Fossoway. 

They spoke in apple related puns and seemed less then fond with one another. 

Taking note of Ser Steffons less then honorable tendencies.At least the brunette beta, Raymun seemed a good sort.

But still this didn't seem like a good place to make camp.

"Perhaps we should seek quieter accommodations" he told Sweetfoot.

After trailing outside the complex of tents surrounding Ashford meadow and in into the dense wooded highlands further up.

He found the perfect spot. A strong elm rooted at the top of a hill surrounded by woods for privacy and near a creek deep enough for bathing.

After tying down the horses to the elm, allowing them enough give for proper grazing. He remember Plummers remarks and stripped from his clothes and descended into the creek to bath himself.

Ser Arlan had made him take a bath every month when he was alive. Without him here it seemed, Dunk just neglected to bathe.

Water rushed across his sun tanned and freckles skin.

Soaking in the cool water he felt the heat under his skin soothe slightly and he let out a deep groan of satisfaction. 

Letting the water just sit and wash over his tender flesh, taking the weight he carried with it down stream. 

And for a moment he felt a rumble in his chest,  it was small but satisfying it bloomed a comfort in his bruised heart.

It even emboldened him enough to swipe a daring finger along his cunt chasing for a hint of arousal but the crisp cold water washed away any indulgence in his scarcely seen lust.

The rumble only lasted a moment but that was more then enough to heal the burdens of the day. 

It was odd he had never been able to produce a sound like that before. "Maybe its a sign I will have a proper presentation. " the thought brought a smile to his face.

When he rose from the creek he even caught that same familiar scent in the breeze, so sweet it was that it made him swipe a lick across his lips.

But it was still too faint to be completely distinguished and soon faded into the background of the realms other scents. 

Shrugging he shook the water from his hair and set about drying his clothes. Shaking and smacking them against a rock didn't make them smell any better unfortunately. 

And by the time they were good and dry evenfall was beginning.

◇◇◇

His second attempt at communicating with lord Dondarion was even less successful.

"Es napping still" The beta whore confirmed that he was still asleep even as the night crept into the sky.

"As account of hes gout-ie toes," she said dismissivly Dunk found it almost ridiculous but then again he was no maester.

The women, Rowan Dunk learned her name was set off towards the tent and Dunk trailed after her trying once more to plead his case.

"I understand but it is of some urgency so that I may enter the lis-"only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of.

A corpse?

There she laid perfectly still, her pale skin dressed in funeral shrouds and painted stones set upon her closed eyes.

All the sudden Dunk felt very awkward, here he was trailing to women who were actively dressing the corpse of their fallen friend. 

The two women moved as one setting flowers and thread across the woman's chest.

"Whats he on about" one of the woman attending to the corpse said.

"He's going on about the joust"

" Ah, awfly dangerous that is"  

" Ah..-well yes um...i'm not troubled with a whole lot of options so if I mean to take service in a castle-."

" -you must put your body at hazard for the pleasure of strangers." 

Dunk opened his mouth about to express his difference when the dead women rose up from her deathbed.

"Ain't that our job?" the funeral cloth fell from her chest and exposed her naked flesh.

Dunk nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of it, but the two whores acted as if this was normal?

"Your supposed to be dead!" Red, said as she grasped at the corpses head and laid her back onto the smooth stone.

Not having nearly enough brain to even begin to understand whatever was happening Dunk shook his head hard.

The woman, "Red" spoke "The whore and the knight not so much different when you think about it."

Her eyes peered into him like a needle through thread. Like she could read all he was, with a glance of her sultry eyes. She raked her gaze down his frame starting at his face and stopping at his hips, squinting inbetween his legs as if she could see something through the threads of his trousers.

"And your more akin to us then a some nobleman." 

"Find a safer trade lad, your body will thank you and you'll be happier for it." 

"From one whore to another...life has funny ways of putting us back into place."  Her eyes grew distant.

"No matter what our goals are."

For a second the air was still full of an grim understanding Dunk was left out of. Then the women broke into laughter.

Dunk bit at his lips feeling a heat rising in his belly and a stinging in his eyes. "Must you mock me... was only asking for a bit of help." the laughter stopped and the women eyed him with something even worse then amusement, sympathy. 

"I'll try Ser Manfred back in the morning."

He turned to leave, "Sorry lad we dont mean to mock you it's just..." 

" We see plenty a greenboy just like you every tourney, all with glory in their minds but never in their hands."

"Leads to plenty of young pups downfall, such a rhythm can make one quite numb."

"Mayhaps I will be the first." Dunk said hopefully. 

The look the whores gave him told him their doubts before their mouths ever did. 

"Be good to your body knight..and it'll be good to you." 

"If not then... I reckon trouble will find you."

◇◇◇

Dunk left the tent feeling less hopeful then when he came. Wandering the rows off bright tents and eventually finding himself in a tent bursting with smallfolk, eager for some late night entertainment.

A women stood on stage deep into narrating some tale of heroism and bravery.  Her voice was strong and powerful and the candle lights lit her skin like bronze.

Her scent was foreign, heavy with the smell of distant Dornish spices and the sea breeze.

An alpha by the smell of her, her face was as beautiful as the sun in the western sky. The puppets were just as magnificent and when it breathed fire onto the sheild of the Knight, Dunk felt the warmth all the way from the back.

And when she bowed for a second he could have sworn his eyes met hers.

Deep pools of brown honey he could feel himself getting lost in. A dumb smile was no doubt on his face. And it was only after the crowd began to roar with applause that he snapped out of his spell.

Blushing he fled from the tent walking into the crisp night air. "Can't keep letting myself get wound up like this" 

"HALF-MAN" the shouts of "half-man" brought his attention to Ser Raymun Fossoway. 

The beta beamed up at him as if they had been friends for years despite only meeting earlier that morning.

"Do I look like some half-man to you" Dunk questioned irritability. "Ay half-man half gaint" Raymun answered happily.

"Look i'm sorry for that and earlier I shouldn't have tried to bait you into a fight with my cousin" 

"He would have wounded you gravely then tried he'd challenge the next joust for an easy win." his scent of apple cider and cinnamon soured for a moment, before evening out.

They walked in turn for a moment as Raymun complained of his cousin and his role as a squire. 

"To be honest I thought you would surely be an alpha your to big to be a beta but maybe your one of those odd cases in which you just dont get a scent." 

"They say the 4th princes late wife lady Dyanna Dayne had that issue, "

Dunk wanted to point out that Lady Dayne did eventually present omega, much to House Dayne's great pleasure. She was the first and only Omega Ser Arlan ever saw because he was in attendance at her presentation party. 

Said she was "A shining star that towered over the rest." 

She seemed like a great women too, beloved by the small folk and nobility alike.

Her passing was a great tragedy 

Dunk remembered hearing how the whole of king's landing went into mourning when her death was announced, even people in fleabottom wore their blacks that grim day. 

Rumor is her mate, Prince Maekar still wears black.

He decided against bringing up the somber topic  continuing to walk beside the beta.  Raymun made for good company and Dunk found himself opening up as they walked through the crowds and past tents full of drunken merriment before Raymun stopped and asked a question" 

"Are you hungry" Dunks belly rumbled as if to answer for him. 

"Always!" the beta just smiled and let him to a massive yellow tent that seemed to be the center peice of the party raging through the meadow.

◇◇◇

Chapter Text

Lyonel 

•◇•

Music and laughter poured out beyond the thick flaps of the tents fabric, the overall mood in the hall was  full of mirth.  And yet Lyonel Baratheon was still bored out of his mind. 

Everything and everyone in this tent were so mind-numbingly boring, not even the buzz of the wine he'd downed in the beginning of the feast could add some passion to the party.

The reach was no substitute for the stormlands. 

The tables were lined with drunk party-goers, all  of different backgrounds and presentation. Dim-witted Alpha lordlings sat shoulder to shoulder with base-born beta men and maids laughing over plates full of plump duck breasts and freshly plucked beans of green.

"It seems that a good pint of ale or wine, the best food avaliable in this shitload of a town and a jolly mood was all thats needed for these little lordlings to hop off their high horses" Lyonel  thought briskfully.

In the far corner of the pavilion he spyed one of the Tully lordlings pressing his mouth deep into a low-born beta squire's mouth with reckless abandon. His hands inching down towards the smaller man's rear. 

"That and the lust rising between their loins." He took another sip of his wine and let the tart taste spread over his tounge

"Like the mother's sweet slick, mayhaps if I drown myself in my drinks I'll flood my my wits enough to enjoy this shithole." He threw back another gulp and scanned the rows of people again.

But this time there was something new, someone new and impossible to miss. The man towered amongst the crowd like the Red-keep over Kingslanding.

He was massive, a hulking figure but his disposition was of that of a doe. He was so quiet and inconspicuous that not one of the patrons even gave him a second glance. 

Way to preoccupied with their conversation and lust-drunk grinding to even take note of the giant in their wake. 

"Finally something of intrigue?" Lyonel smirked.

He watched as the man made his way through the crowd and plopped himself down at the end of one of the many tables. Making himself small, on the bench and digging into a leg of duck like wolf into a lamb.

It was adorable.

A sight to behold truly, a man the size of a grown stag sitting meek as hare. Lyonel sharpened his gaze on the man and watched him keenly.  Until his curiosity was pushed aside by a sudden profound thought. 

"Four-thousand years ago..- fuck I cant speak, nor hear myself!" 

He brought the crowds attention to himself with a growl in his throat and volume in his voice." I'VE HAD A PROFOUND THOUGHT, I-if anyone would care to listen." The crowds roar slowed to a murmur as he continued. 

Soon enough the only voice to be heard was his own. "Four-thousand years ago our ancestors gathered in that-eghm- big feild, outside to blood eachother with sticks and have a little bit of gay fun."

"And they say it was this countries first ever joust- and I say..." His train of thought fled his head and he was at a loss of words for a moment.  "Fuck what was a gonna say..-eh" the crowds stared at him awaiting whatever he had to say. 

"-Eh oh yeah...what I was saying was, Men could not have devised such a joy." His mind drifted back to those long days spent out in the forest, watching with his father as bucks battled in the feilds and forest like the tides against the rocks lining stormsend. Their antlers bashing together in a mix of rage and vigor. 

Such violence bred entertainment beyond measure. Something to break up the monotonous facade of the posh perfect lord he'd put out since his presentation, of a sea-storm  Alpha.

The joy given from bloodshed, fueled the alpha beneath his skin, entirely different from the pleasure  derived from drunk debauchery or indulgence of another's flesh. 

It was primal, and spoke to a something beyond men's understanding. A feeling so deep and instinctual its origins were unknown to even the gods themselves. 

" So who was it" 

Awkward chuckles and coughs were his only answers. The question seemed to sober up the host of people like a bucket of cold water. Boot-lickers and brown-nosers all of them, never eargar to attract the ire of the laughing storm. 

Slumping back in his chair he ran a hand through his graying black hair and rolled his eyes, a chuckle raking through him.

"Fuck it."

"A HUNDRED GOLD TO THE MAN, BEAST OR GUARD THAT STICKS ME BEST!"

Like a spark to wildfire, the party roared back to life with an enriched strength. They rose on their feet and began to dance with each other like rabbits. The music surged and scents mixed together in a cacophony of heat and tension.

Once again Lyonel spied the massive man in the corner of the room stuffing as many sweets into his mouth as possible. As if anyone was like to take it from him.

He looked like like a chipmunk by the time he turned his face up towards the head of the pavilion. 

Catching Lyonel's eye and freezing in place, a man caught in the eye of the storm. He licked his lips and told his attendant (some highborn he couldnt remember the name of) to beckoned the gaint closer.

And so he did. 

Like a man to the gallows the titan parted his way through the mob and presented himself in front of the grand oak table wringing his hands together and shuffling his feet nervously. 

"He has the nature of a feild mouse, I'd love to make him squirm," whether he meant in conversation or in bed Lyonel couldn't say. 

"You ever been punched, in the face before?"

The man looked taken aback unsure on how to respond. "I..I began your pardon Ser Lyonel?" 

"Big men get punched more than little men did you know that?" He began to fiddled with the dagger in his hands. Twisting the blade back and forth admiring its ruby hilt.

"No but i- believe it"

"Is that why you slouch, so you dont get punched?" He placed his stare dead-center on the man and studied him. 

Now that he was closer he became even more curious. The man was huge, that much was clear, but not in the same way as most Knights. He was plusher around his chest, stomach and hips still well built with muscle but it was wrapped in a thick layer of plush and rosy sun-tanned skin.

Freckles dotted across his body like star constellations, his hair was cut short and behind the wisps of his hazel hair  he caught sight of those magnificent blues as bright as the summer sky. 

He was beautiful in a way that couldn't be explained, reminiscent of the old stories of humble base-born maidens who attract princes and lordlings to their door. 

His whole character was that of a gentle giant, humble in its ways.

And Lyonel couldn't get enough. 

The man spoke again" I..I dont slouch-"

"Aww come on you've been carrying on like a maiden on her wedding night" he chuckled unable to keep the smile from his face. I can't wait to fuck with him more. Lyonel flashed his fangs and grinned.

" I ment no disrespect Ser honestly, wh..where I grew up you learnt to go unnoticed." 

What a shame that must have been, the gods did not build such a magnificent creature to be shrink itself. The thought alone seemed blasphemous.

"The seven above grant you tallness, so be tall..." "Or I shall name you a heretic and burn you...-or um whatever it is we do to heretics" 

"What is it  they do to heretics again?" he asked his councilman

"Burn them milord." it was a poor gest but the pleasure he got from the moment of unease on the others face was more than worth it.

"Yeah that I supposed whatever..- now what have you brought me?" The giant looked floored once again and shuffled his feet. " Ummm...- Uh Ser I beg your pardon I didn't realize that.-." 

Lyonel felt that pull again, the one that only came out when he was closing in on prey  with his pack of hunting dogs. 

Cornered meat , he licked his lips hungrily letting his scent saturate the air around them. The smell was electric, that of a storm on the horizon. Foretelling impending rain and earth-shaking thunder. 

Like an omen.

Any weaker man would be on his knees with a flushed face and a scent screaming submission. But the giant stood stong, only wrinkling his nose in response.

In fact, there was not a hint of a scent coming from the man. The only thing Lyonel could pick up from him was dirt, sweat and summer. He was like a pup who'd just spent a day rolling around in the feilds.

It was like a mask, hiding anything beneath.

You just keep getting more and more interesting! He turned to Dunk expectantly showing off a maw of sharpened alpha fangs. “You wish for my favor yet you come with an empty hand!?"

Dunks eyes widened and he looked around looking for an excuse. Finding none he nodded shamefully, still clutching onto the tart in his hand. 

Lyonel pointed to that smug cunt Ser Caften and explained how even he, poor lord that he was, managed to scrounge up something halfway valuable.

"All Men wish for something, so what is it you desire of me?" "And in turn what do you offer?"

"Milord..i- im afraid theres nothi-"

"Then you purpose to offer yourself?" Lyonel purred his stormy scent filling with an electric heat.

"I..I um..No milord I'm not much for good working labor"

"Not the kind I was insinuating but I digress...Then I must assume you've come for my head."

Dunks face paled and he stuttered "w..what!? No.no ..Milord I would never-"

Lyonel was growing tired of this, his half dunk brain couldn't even compute with what the hedgeknight was on about anymore. 

"Then why the Fuck are you in my tent!?" He gestured exasperatedly.

The hedgeknight swallowed hard and pressed his lips into a line, lifting up his tart sheepishly. "S..supper"

The stormlord paused and blinked "supper?" He said as he cocked his head to the side, confused. 

The hedgeknight nodded.

The silence stretched on for a long moment. Before the lord let out a chuckle and then another and then another. Those seated around him also began to laugh. 

And by the the time the laugh simmered out, it all felt like one big joke Dunk hadn't enough smarts to understand. But he laughed along regardless.

"Hehe..It actually makes sense, what its your name man?"

"Um Dunk...- Uh Ser Dunk, Milord." 

"Thats ridiculous " he said bluntly 

Dunk didn't respond insteadonly clearing his throat awkwardly"A ludicrously modest name for a humble man suppose. " Lyonel thought 

The man was so charmingly thick-headed he was just impossible to bully and yet he still left Lyonel wanting more. 

"Do you like dancing" he asked a genuine smile gracing his handsome face.

The hedgeknight blinked.

"Doesnt everyone?"

◇◇◇

Dunk 

 He had never been blessed with the gift of dancing, and he was sure it showed. While everyone else spun and twisted in turn gracefully. Meanwhile all he could do was shuffle and bounce awkwardly amoung them. Trying his best not to knock anyone off their feet. 

The music blasted across the tent blooming the mood and creating an almost intoxicating atmosphere. And in the center of it all Lyonel Baratheon danced like a man on fire, the center of the party flowed through his feet. 

His arms moved in sweeping motions and his feet carried him through the crowd like a fish to water, his prancing seemed almost effortless.

"He takes to this like its his birthright, amazing!" Dunk thought "Meanwhile I can barely keep my feet beneath me."

One of the beta women took him by the arm and turned him into a steady spin that made his head swim. The world blurred around him as he let go of respectability and restrictions and moved with the spirits.

So many hands graced his that he could barely recall who's arms he was in and who he held. 

The wave of people moved like a heartbeat, pulsing and breathing as one. So many scents flooded his nose that he couldn't tell one presentation from the other. 

Dominate alpha swells mixed together with moderate beta ones and turned the pavilion into a melting pot. Maidens took him into their arms and whirled him around so much he couldn't tell head from his toes. 

Sudden as its name a sharp electric bolt ran through him as the scent of a storm flared behind him. The Laughing Storm, he whipped around and just before the alphas foot slammed down on where his had been only seconds before.

He met the lord's gaze and shuddered as that feeling of being prey washed over him.  Another stomp sent Dunk scurrying back, but Lyonels feet chased him at every turn.

It was a dance, the hunter and the hunted moving in rhythm as one tried desperately to get the other. Eventually Dunk found himself cornered and with no other way out he slammed his massive foot down onto the lords own. 

"GAagh!" Lyonel let out a cry and hunched over into Dunk's neck, breathing heavily. Huffing and perching his hands on Dunks chest. 

Dunk paled and froze his heart pounding within the confines of his chest, 

"Shishishitshit-You lumbering fool he could have your head for this!" Dunk grimaced to himself. awaiting the Lords reaction, he squeezed his eyes shut.

But a reaction never came at least not the one he'd expected. Instead he felt the lord sniffing at his neck intensely.  Nosing for something.

"Mayhaps he'll bite my throat out!"he swallowed hard willed himself to stand tall and stiff like a tree.

Praying to the gods for an inkling of pity.

•◇•

Lyonel

Sweet 

Thats what the hedgeknight smelled of.

But not in the way he'd smelt before instead of a milky poppy or a floral flush like the betas of court, Dunk was like running through a feild of summer grass in youth.

With no responsibility or prestige to weigh you down. Just the summer breeze in your hair and wildflowers blooming in the feilds.

It was like breathing in fresh air after a battle, relishing in the grace of life.

It was humble and perfect in the same way as a magnificent tree. Untouched by anything beyond its life in the confines of its rooted place.

Humble and content.

Unlike anything Lyonel had ever smelt before 

Even through the haze of alcohol he could feel it. 

Distinct and immediately recognizable. 

But what he recognized he couldn't say. It was like staring at a puzzle with all the required peices assembled yet the full image remained unseen.

"I know this feeling...t..tis..this smell.!?..." he thought confused.

Half of his wits had been carried downstream by the allure of ale. But something deep inside knew what he held was precious and unfounded.

Even as the thick musk that followed the hedgeknight swallowed up that scent once more he still clung on. The remnants of his mind that weren't drunk beyond reason were trying desperately to understand what he had smelt.

To assemble all the peices, but unfortunately the alcohol won as it always did and he lost the trail.

Remembering whose chest he was actively pressed against he slowly rose to meet the knights eye. Blown-out browns met terrified blues and for a second all was still.

Until Lyonel stuck his tonge out in a gest and reassured the knight with a sharp grin. Dunk's terror fled from his face and he met the alpha with another smile, shoving him away playfully.

The rest of the night hazed together into a tantalizing cocktail, distantly Lyonel knew that the hangover he'd have on the marrow was likely to wound him more than the tourney but that didn't matter.

"As of now all I wish is to dance away the night with him."Lyonel thought happily.

"Even if I dont recall nore a hares ass tomorrow"

◇◇◇

Dunk

He doesn't remember how he left the tent. One moment he was dancing wildly in the stormlord's Pavillion. The next he was out in the night the cool breeze of the midnight wind simmering him.

"I dont think I've ever danced like that in my entire life?" 

He was just about to make the short decent back to camp, but the sound of giggles and moans alerted him to a frisky trio stumbling along the path ahead of him. 

He was just about to cast his eyes down to his feet and sped past them when he caught eye of a familiar sigil stitched along the back of the man's coat and a familiar mop of curled red hair clung to the man like a tic. Recognition clicked into veiw and he gasped.

Ser Dondarion!

He must have exclaimed outloud because the the elusive lord turned to face him with one eyebrow raised in agitation. His oak wood and maple scent souring slightly.

This was Dunks chance, his way in, a few years back the Dondarions had fought a war against the vulture king in Dorne and Ser Arlan and Dunk had served in their army. 

The battles had been brutal, everywhere you looked men died. Ser Arlan had even suffered a spear to the side that nearly killed him. 

So he stated his Sers name and asked for the lords favor. Only to receive a query "who?"

"Ser Arlan of pennytree he um he fought with your father to hunt the vulture king in the red mountains of Dorne-?" 

"I thought you were a Dornish man" said one of the women who hung off Lord Dondarion arm.

The whore from the tent, Rowan, spoke up as Dondarion smashed his lips against the other. 

"No he said hes hung like a Dornishman." Ser Manfred broke away just enough from the kiss to face Rowan "No I said I've hung Dornishmen" he smirked as he bent down to capture her lips.

It felt like an intimate moment Dunk was intruding on but regardless he pressed on albeit while blushing profusely. The three of them smelt so heavily of wine that Dunk couldn't even recognize their scents. 

"Maybe another time to speak would be better, when they aren't't so-" he watched as Ser Manfred snuck his hand into the bodice of the whores dress and clutched at her breast.

"...-worked up?"

" perhaps it would be best to speak on the marrow?"

Ser Manfred turn to him, his look incredulous, as if he couldn't believe that the knight was still there.

"I know your penny knight not, nor you" he  "be gone " he waved his hand dismissivly. Like Dunk was nothing more than a dirt beneath his shoe.

He turned before Dunk could even process  his dismissal. It didn't make any sense why would a lord ever turn away those who had fought so valiantly.

How? Did the noble house Dondarion have no honor.

"Ser Arlan took a wound in your sires service,  how could you have forgotten him?" The screams his Ser had let out when he wrenched the spear tip from his side still made him shiver to remember. 

To forget such a man seemed craven. But to the lord, Ser Arlan was little more than a spec amongst many.

" My lord father took 800 swords into those mountains, we've forgotten men who bore much more than a wound." He said it so simply like he hadn't just crushed Dunk's future in his hands. 

Like he hadn't forgotten a man who's honor was his code. 

Like Ser Arlan was nothing.

"Please Ser..- I will not be allowed to challenge unless a knight or a lord with vouch for me!" He pleaded trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Ser Manfred considered him for little more than a moment before simply saying.  "What is that to me?" and turning his back to Dunk once more. 

Rowan spared him a pity filled look before turning back to the Lord. Clinging onto his arm, off to perform her duties.

Dunk was left alone, on that torchlit trail without a pot to piss in.  " I..I thought that.." he couldn't finish that thought. Because truthfully what had he thought?

"Did I think some lord would stoop down to spare me a mercy." He said scornfully, he was a hedgeknight, nothing more nothing less. 

Still in almost disbelief of the situation he turned back towards the forest, back to camp and back to his horses. 

"Back to bed so that I can sleep away my sorrows."

Just as he was breaking through the trees and returning to his elm atop the hill, he caught a scent. 

Something like smoke and... firewood?.. like a campfire. 

He cleared the bend just enough to see the "THE PUP FROM THE INN!?"Dunk sputtered. Illuminatit ed by the warm glow of the fire sat the pale pup. His bald head shining like a pearl.

With careful footsteps he walked up behind the boy, almost not even believing it was him. But then even through the thick scent of campfire smoke he smelt it. 

The milky scent of pup, pomegranate and that woody underlying scent that was sort of like flame. 

"You?!" Dunk gaped 

The pup just turned to stare at him, like this was all normal? " What are'yo doing?" The pups face wrinkled wordlessly and he gestured to the fireplace.

"Cooking the fish?" He said plainly, Grasping at one of the sticks roasting a cod on its end and offering it to Dunk. " You want some?"

Dunk stared at the boy incredulously, "No-ah ..I mean how'd you get here?" He had specifically left the boy at the inn for a reason. And now he was finding him seated at his camp like everything was typical and fine?

"Did you steal a horse"

"I rode in the back of a lamb cart." 

Dunk scoffed "lamb cart.." trudging towards his camp and placing his stuff down he told the boy. 

"You best find another one." 

"You cant make go" the petulant pup said firmly, "I had had enough of that inn!"

Dunk felt a new form of annoyance hed never felt before twitch in his mind. Had Ser Arlan been here he would have smacked the boy several times over. Then he would have smacked Dunk double for being "too soft on the boy".

Summoning all the authority he had left he spoke firm.

"Now you listen here, I'll have no more insolence from you, boy!" he pointed his finger at the pup to reaffirm his point.

The wide eyes staring up at him made it hard to hold firm. Something in him just wanted to smother the boy like a mother did her babes when they cried.

But the knight in him knew better. He sighed exasperatedly. 

"Should throw you over my horse and take you home." 

"You'd have to ride all the way to Kings Landing and then youd miss the tourney." the pup said cheekily and that made Dunk pause.

"Kingslanding?...you from fleabottom?" 

"No" the boy said averting his eyes.

Dunk deflated just a little "aye." 

Looking around his camp he noticed how clean everything was. His few clothes were hanging off the lower branchesof the tree.

"What'er those doing there?" 

"I washed them, I made the fire caught the fish and groomed the horses." the pup said proudly.

Dunk surveyed the camp once again and noted how organized everything was for once. "I would have raised your pavilion but I couldn't find one"

Dunk placed his hands on his hips and nodded to the elm " There's my pavilion." 

"Thats a tree." the pup said, with a cynical look.

"Aye and its all the Pavillion a true knight needs, sooner sleep under the stars then some smokey tent." .

"What if it rains" 

"The tree will shelter me"

"Trees leak." 

Dunk found himself scoffing once more " That they do." 

"Whats your name?" 

"Dunk" answered Dunk, feeling all to aware of how stupid his name came across.

"Ser Dunk" the boy said to himself, testing how it held when said. Apparently he found it unfitting. "Thats no name for a knight."

"Is it short for Duncan?" 

Dunk blinked, that name sounded much more fitting and all the sudden he felt lesser. He decided right then and there to change it. 

"Aye"

Ser Lyonels words echoed in his mind. The seven above grant you tallness, so be tall.

"Be tall"

"Be tall"

Tall sounded just right it fit him well and he had nothing else to add to his title. He didn't even have a presentation.

Tallness was all he had and besides everyone's been saying his name was unbecoming of a knight.

So he might aswell embrace it.

"Yeah..-um Ser Duncan of... the tall." He said hesitantly.

The pup only bristled, "Never heard of him"

"OH come'mon have you heard of every Knight in the seven kingdoms?"

"Only the good ones" the pup replied. Dunk bit at his lips. " You got a name, theif?"

The pup considered his query for a second then smiled and said "Egg"

"There's no way someone would name their pup that" Dunk thought "less they hate him"

He repeated the name in disbelief "Egg?"

"Mhm" 

"Well Egg, what is your poor mother like to think!?"

"Not much she's dead." The pup said silently.

"Oh.." Dunk stilled all the command bleeding out of him. Dunk had never known his mother, and the only sire he'd halfway known was Ser Arlan. 

He got the feeling the pup didn't have anyone else if he was willing to settle for a sorry hedgeknight like Dunk. 

He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

"Well Egg, by all rights I should beat you bloody and send you on your way!" his threats were empty and the boy knew it. 

But when he looked over Eggs small frame a pang of sadness took over. The pup was smaller than he had been at that age.

" But you look as if you dont eat much."

 " And if you swear to do as you told, I'll let you stay and serve me for the tourney". Egg's eyes seemed to sparkle in the firelight and he preened excitedly.

"After that well- we'll see.." he said exasperatedly the days toll hitting him all at once as he sat by the campfire. Can't believe im taking in a pup.

"I dont have much but.. if you prove worth your keep then I promise to keep clothes on your back and your belly full" 

It would be difficult with the uncertainty of his profession but he was more than sure that he could give the boy the barest of necessities if he ate less and cut back of certain things for himself.

"The clothes may be roughspun and the food hard salt beef but you won't go hungry." 

Egg purred and smiled brightly, and for a second it made everything all worth it and Dunk smiled too.

He thought back on his life as Ser Arlans squire, recalling the less then favorable moments.

"I promise not to beat you"

  "Unless you deserve it." Dunk said softly, more of an afterstatement than an actual threat. 

"Yes my lord!" said Egg, and the name of address made Dunk shake his head, "Ser, I'm only a hedgeknight"

Egg smiled.

_◇_

Aegon.

Egg.

This was different, so far outside of the realm of how he'd lived life thus far it almost felt like a dream. 

But he knew better, No dream had ever felt this free. There were no stuffy citadel measters waiting on him for his lessons, nor his brothers waiting to disturb his peace.

Here there was only the hard ground beneath his blanket and the warm body of his new Knight besides him. Instead of the quiet hum and creaks of the Red Keep, the crickets sung him their songs. And Instead of candle light all that lit the ground was the pale moon in the sky and the fluckering embers of the campfire.

"I want to stay here forever."  he thought to himself. He blinked up at the sky watching as the stars barely moved across the dark expanse lf the sky. 

Ser Duncan shuffled in his pallet next to him and he felt his heat drift closer, it was almost as if the man was a fire onto himself.

The hedgeknight was like no one he'd ever met before, he was a taller and thicker than any alpha hed ever met and yet he smelt of nothing.

No dominating scent like his father or brothers or a fainter scent like his uncle or cousin.

He was softer, like mother and his younger sisters.

But still At first smell, he was as blank as a canvas. Any other man would have dismissed him as a strange unscented beta and went along with their day.  It was weird but not technically impossible.

But the feeling he was missing something stuck in the back of his mind.

So for now Egg would keep that thought there, and  just as sleep was edging at the ends of his eyes he saw it.

Across the speckled expanse of the Westerosi night shot a streak of white. Bright as a flame, it sped across the sky. 

Eggs eyes widened with awe as he took in the great sight. He'd never seen anything like it in the castles. It was exhilarating to sleep under something other than silken blankets and cold stone ceilings.

Such humble comforts were not alloted to princes of proper standards. Prince Aegon would never be allowed to star-gaze like some commoner. He was the blood of the dragon, his pedigree was soaked with the blood of victory and dominance, such activities were beneath him.

"But here, in this feild with Ser Duncan I'm not a prince." he smiled.

Here with Ser Duncan amongst the blades of feild grass he was just a squire. Nothing more nothing less. The only responsibilities were that of his Ser's bidding.

"Here I'm just Egg,"

It was a comforting thought.

Heavenly lights were a sign of good luck after all, signs of change and shifting fates.

Egg could sense that, they both were struggling to fall into the land of dreams. 

And so he spoke into the quiet. 

"A falling star brings luck to those who see it" he recalled. "It's like the gods ways of sending messages and blessings" 

Besides him Ser Duncan shuffled closer  and responded softly in turn" Go to sleep, boy."

"All the other knights are in their Pavillions by now, staring up at silk inside of sky." 

His Ser grumbled softly, all bark and no bite. 

"Do you whant a clout in the ear?" Egg knew the knight was bluffing, in the entire time he'd known the man he never once even attempted to raise a hand to him, but he silenced regardless instead opting to slide closer into the mans chest. 

Ser Duncan froze stiff for a moment before taking the pup in his arms and pressing him into his front. Cocooned around him like a plush sheild. Egg felt a content rumble rise in his chest and his eyes lids grew heavy. 

But just as the stream of sleep swept him under her heard Ser Duncan speak hesitantly.

"So the luck is ours alone?" His voice barely above a whisper.

Egg didn't respond, when he drifted off to sleep he did so with a smile.

Chapter Text

Aerion

◇¤◇ 

"What a shit hole"

That was Aerions first thought as he rode through the downtrodden path of some backwater tourney. The Targaryen parade of Knights and highborns parted the path of the filth like a valyrian sword through a bastards neck. 

Seperating the high from the low and if nothing else showing the smallfolk of this primitive celebration where they stood in comparison to the presence of dragons.

The blood of Old Valyria flowed like rivers through their veins. "They should be honored to even catch a glimpse of us." Aerion thought prudently as he strolled through the encampment upon his blackened steed.

Glaring down at the lessers gathered to awe at the royals who graced their sights. The scent of unwashed alpha and betas made his nose burn and let out another scoff at the shear stupidity of it all.

Snarling he let a glimpse of his fangs show as he continued on, normally such a sight would be seen as unbecoming of a prince by the court. But here, far away from the prudish sight of highborn royal advisors and noble lady omegas he was free to show his displeasure.

The smallfolk already saw him as a "cruel dragon" why not feed into their whispered tidings.

"Better to be seen as cruel than weak." Aerion scorned.

They were blood of the dragon, fire and blood were the words they lived and died by. And yet they continued to stoop down to the level of entertaining petty lords with their presence.

His uncle called it " A show of good grace, a worthy duty to the realm." But of course he would say that. The smallfolk practically already saw him as king. Beloved from the North's frigid winter wall to Dornes sand plains. The realms "Hammer" built of solid steel. 

 The typical Targaryen look had skipped him, and made him look less like a mad dragon  and more like a proper man.

Aerion knew the truth. Since his ancestors had squandered away his birthrights a near century before. their power had been steadily dropping. Without dragons as a warning, made to keep the lords in line they had begun to slip.

And the bastards bloody battles were still fresh in the realms mind. So many had begun to falter in their total support. Not completely but enough to feel.

Enough to matter.

And so House Targaryen must make their power known with their presence instead of dragonflame.

"A dragon should never have to lower itself to appease the realms lesser beast." he had told his father the day before their departure. 

The man turned to him his face hard and carved by stress and narrowed his eyes. " Hold your tounge boy. The dragons you speak of are dead, buried beneath the keep."

"You speak as if I do not stand here, The image of House Targaryen" Aerion spoke silently beneath his breath.

" You are no dragon you are an alpha, a prince of the realm Your duty is to the seven kingdoms not brutallity and les your cruelty soften I swear to the seven I'll ship you off to some distant land to seethe in your imprudence!" his scent of ceder incense smoke and tea leaves burned like the fire roaring in his solar pit. 

Aerion glared for a moment his face full of a familiar ire, A look Maekar saw reflected in all his children's eyes. Familiar because it was his own.

And without Dyanna to temper it burned like wildfire. An uncontainable flame of rage and simmering sorrow that blazed in her absence.

But as he met his sons violet eyes he could see beneath to a softer time.

A younger Aerion with his face scrunched with smaller anger, the kind only a pup could exude.

And the gentle flame he felt for all his pups bloomed in his chest like it always did. No matter it be Daerion's whoring and drunkeness. Aegon's curious wanderings or Aerion's dragon-like destruction. He could never hold his anger for long. 

His children were all that was left of his omega. 

All their transgressions could be forgiven as long as he saw their mothers eyes in their faces. It's times like this when Aerion knew his father missed his mother the most.

As they all did.

His sire let out a deep sigh full of exhaustion and resigned responsibility. And laid a gentle hand on Aerion's shoulder moving slightly up to rub at his scent glands.

"Please boy if nothing else...just for once may you lessen my burdens." For a moment longer Aerion glared and then scoffed sorely. His spiced scent dampening just slightly, enough to show his resignation to the affair. 

"Fine, but dont expect me to keep track of the little rat and that drunkard Daerion." 

His father didn't smile, he rarely even showed emotions nowadays but his screwed face lessened for a moment and he rumbled softly brushing his wrist along Aerions neck and pressing him into his chest.

A comforting gesture not often given.

The memory of it staved Aerion off from expressing his distaste fully but he's sure it was clear he wasn't particularly keen on being here.

They passed through the unrefined gates of Ashford Castle piling into the courtyard with their men at their sides and Aerion felt the weight of the journey begin to weigh on his bones. 

Disregarding Lord Ashford as he scrambled to welcome the royal procession, particularly his uncle. He guided his horse to the stables, looking down from his horse he looked for someone to pass it off to when his eyes landed on some stable boy. 

Or rather some stable giant. The man was huge , tall as an elm and built like it too he gazed up at Aerion starstruck. 

Aerions eyes narrowed and he looked over the giant as if trying to dismantle him peice by peice.

He was like a puzzle he couldn't grasp.

The man was tall and strong but softer in areas like his face, chest and hips, plushier almost like a bear made of stuffing. His muscle wasnt carved from stone like father and he wasn't as lean or slim as his cousin, Valarr. 

He was something inbetween. At first he had assumed the man was an alpha, but the way he carried himself and general disposition made him unsure of that. 

Add in his lack of scent and he was an impressive anomaly in the middle of a boring sea.

He didn't have the harsh features of an alpha, his wide pale blue eyes reflected the open sky, and that was way to striking to be just a boring beta.

His soft cheeks were sprinkled with freckles almost like stars. As if the moon maiden herself had cast her children all along his skin. 

His violet eyes moved down his neck following his trail of star freckles untill they dissappeared behind the hem of his roughspun tunic. 

"Shame I would have liked to follow that pattern." Aerion thought suddenly. Before he realized what he was saying and narrowed his eyes confused.

"He's not hard on the eyes but would the dragon really lower its self to the company of a unscented giant!?" Shaking the spark from his mind he spoke to the still staring man. 

Snapping him from his stupor.

"Boy stop gaping see to my horse." he spoke tonelessly faining disinterest. The man blinked for a moment and then sputtered his cheeks blushing red abashed.

Like a Dornish tomato. 

Aerion liked that look. In fact he liked all of the man.

And a thought came back to him suddenly "I supposed I should find some way to enjoy myself even if it meant stooping down slightly." He purred.

  You dont find treasure  hidden in the sky after all, but instead buried in the dirt.

◇◇◇

Chapter Text

◇◇◇

Dunk

"Apologies my lord but I am no stableman," the hedgeknight spoke honestly.

"Not clever enough?" The prince purred darting a lick along his pink lips.

 Dunk felt his knees weaken slightly but he willed himself to stand tall as the princes purple eyes peered into him. Digging daggers into his skin, particularly around his neck. 

He even spyed a glimpse of pearly white fangs peeking out slightly from behind his lips.

"Looks like he wants to take my throat out." Dunk felt himself shudder.

"Hmm well then if you cant manage horses perhaps you could ride me like I'm one." The prince leaned forward into his face and Dunk felt his eyes go wide. The perverse nature of the royal alphas words didn't even compute in his mind. 

He might as well have been speaking fluent high valyrian with how foreign the he sounded.

Such speech sounded downright sinful coming from those lips. Dunk almost anticipated a bolt from the father coming down to strike them where they stood.

But no such strike  came forcing Dunk to look straight into the eyes of a predator.

The prince really was beautiful, even more then the stories had said. His face could have been sculpted from marble with how smooth it was. Pale and perfect with eyes like a cat and eyelashes as white as snow with violet sapphires peeking out just beyond the curtain of thick lashes.

A sort of cruel beauty only a Targareyn could possess.

"He could throw on a dress and I would be able to tell the difference between prince and a princess" Dunk thought breathlessly. 

"M..m-your grace I beg your pardon but I'm no serving man either!" Dunk stuttered watching as the man slid off his stallion an pressed deeper into his space.

"Do not play the fool, you know what I mean." He pressed in impossibly closer, sending Dunk back slightly but there was no escape from the princes sight.

"I truly dont. I believe it is you who misunderstand me... you grace um- I have the honor to be a knight."

The prince looked him up and down disapprovingly. "Are you sure knights are built the same as others when you make them bend their backs."

Dunk felt practically feel the steam billowing from his ears, thats how flustered he'd become. That ever present warmth in his gut burned just that much hotter. 

Now instead of a flush it was a quiet blaze feeding on the princes words. 

Dunk swallowed hard, " I am sure al..your grace!"

His response made the Prince's demeanor dampen slightly, his scent turning almost bitter.

"Are you a fool boy? A prince of dragon blood stands before you offering an experience whores would kill for and yet you try to deny?." The pale headed prince sounded almost angry, as if he'd never tasted such rejection.

"Clearly you do not yet know your place."

Dunk felt like the world had fell on its head, how could a prince utter such dirty words.

"I suppose knighthood has fallen on sad days." Those piercing purples burned into him and his scent of spiced ash cast a spell that made something in him burn deeper inside. And for a second the world narrowed to just the two of them.

The prince purred slightly and tilted his head upwards, standing at the tips of his toes to reach the crook of his neck.

His pale skin burned like wildfire and his nose crept closer into that sore spot festering right on the back of his neck.

"I shall remind you where you belong."

There was a quiet voice in the back of his head screaming at him to move, to flee, anything to get the prince away from such a sensitive spot.

But he remained frozen, A stronger more ancient thing inside him called deeper.

Be good, stand still.

Let him closer.

It was like hed been encased in ice. The shivering breaths on his neck made his heart pound in a panic. 

His face burned red, and his stuttering breaths felt like cotton in his mouth. 

His brain was so fuzzy that his thoughts were blurring together. As if a sleeping draught had hit him full force.

The prince sniffed quietly, then said " What an odd smel-" 

Sounds of panic rose up from the far side of the courtside.

The princes horse, who had wandered away during their breif conversation reared up had kicked a man square in his jaw, surely breaking it. 

Dunks brain snapped back into place and the olden voice receded. Now there was only one instinct in his mind,  and it told him to-

MOVE YOU FOOL.

The prince turned to look at the scene with annoyed disregard but when he turned to make the hedgeknight squirm even more, to dig deeper into that scent that spoke to him as a broodmare did a stallion, but he found the giant had made himself scarce.

It would be impressive if it wasn't so infuriating.

Dunk took the distraction quickly and pulled back from the princes atmosphere in a haste, crossing the courtyard in frantic steps.

  Desperate to escape the attention of the prince he grabbed the reins of the horse and disappeared behind the doors of the stable.

Leaving behind a scent of sweet grass and sweat that made the prince's eyes narrow in confusion.

Letting out a deep sigh Dunk cooed at the horse kindly, watching as the prince growled and cursed , turning away into the darkness of the castle in a huff. 

The he slid his hands down the stallions neck and corraled it deeper into the stable. "I know I know to many people around.."  the horse seemed to nod in agreement and push its head deeper into his gentle hands. Dunk let out a slight smile, glad to be in the presence of something softer then a princeling.

But the smell of spiced ash still burned his throat and the burn still remained, even stronger then before.

"What did he do to me..?" Dunk thought confoundedly.

Before he could dive deeper he and the horse were interrupted.

"The pretty ones are always the most tempermental" a strong voice called from behind.

Dunk chuckled " Ah she's just a lil nervous is all"

"He meant the princeling not the palfrey." another said. Turning to meet the men he came chest to face with two members of the kingsguard and gulped.

The men's prestine white cloaks were immediately striking. Like Dove feathers amongst dirt. And even though their chest didn't meet his their prestige made him feel even more insignificant.

Strong alphas, skilled enough to protect kings would make anyone feel small.

"Scuse me milords I am ser Duncan the tall" internally he thanked his squire endlessly for being far wiser then he had been, he could only imagine the embarrassment he would feel if he had called himself "Ser Dunk" infront of such knights.

The kingsguard introduced themselves as Ser Roland Crakehall and Ser Donnel of Duskendale.

"BeGods boy do you ride your horse into battle or does it ride you?" Ser Ronald chuckled.

Dunk was used to such so he didn't falter much "Forgive Ser Ronald Ser its just not often he finds himself looking up to cast his eyes down." 

"Ay yes how cruel of me, now tell me Ser Duncan is there a proper place to shit around here?" 

Dunk blinked at the foul language but answered truthfully. The noble men he found himself admiring seemed much cruder then he had imagined.

"Uh honestly no." 

The knight sighed and went off into the courtyard. Probably off to find "A proper place to shit"

Leaving Dunk in the company of Ser Donald. Dunk felt a surge, he was still star struck by the shining white knights. He wanted to know how knights came so far. 

"I may be just a lowly hedgeknight but these are the most puissant warriors in all the seven kingdoms."

"There could be much to learn from them."

They were of the kingsguard, the strongest warriors in the seven kingdoms. Fashioned with white enameled steel, white cloaks and sworn to no other duty beyond the royal familys desires and protection. 

The perfect knights, a paragon brotherhood of loyalty and nobleity beyond status. At least thats what the stories espoused.

But Ser Roland and Ser Donnel weren't living up to that idealized legend. Truthfully up close they seemed irreverent.

"Perhaps that innkeep woman was right... Knights are built the same as other men and same as other alphas," Dunk thought. But something still struck him as odd 

The Crakehalls were from a noble house hailing from the westerlands sworn to the Lannisters, impressive and prestigious. Fancy and highborn, Clearly expected of someone so closely tied to the king.

But Duskendale was a city not a House and the knight, Ser Donnel didn't seem to hail from House Darklyn, 

"Ser if I might ask what is your family of ?" Dunk asked thickly? The knight smiled fondly at the question, "We were crabbers at Duskendale." 

The answer hit a cord inside Dunk he was suprised. This knight didn't hail from some fancy house or noble lineage. He was common born same as Dunk meaning Ser Donnel had to have worked his way up, Just like Dunk!

The knight turned to walk away but one more question stuck in Dunks mind. 

He brimmed inspired "May I ask Ser, how did the son of a crabber came to have the honor of being a knight in the king's guard?" 

He wants to believe so badly that its possible, because if Ser Donnel could rise so high, who's to say he couldn't do the same? 

Ser Donnel stopped for only a moment to respond" Same way we became crabbers." He turned and left after that, Leaving Dunk confused for the second time that day. 

For a breif moment he stood dwelling on the answer before he sighted an open door to Ashford Castle, left open by some beta maid off in a haste to preform her duties. 

Remember his reason for being her in the first place Dunk sped after her squeezing through the open door. 

Wandering the open halls He soon found himself sort of lost. 

" God's be good what was I thinking I dont even know if the Prince will recall Ser Arlan, I could loose my head for meddling about in a lords castle!"

The foolish ambition he was filled with was beginning to waver and doubt was creeping in.

Just as he was about to turn around and leave the way he came he heard an angry voice echoing down the stone hallway.

Deciding against his better judgment Dunk followed it ending up at the entrance of a great solar. 

◇●◇

Baelor

This tourney was proving to be immediately more stressful then anticipated, it spoke volumes when Aerion of all people was the best behaved of his brothers brood.

 Mad and rude as he was at least he was here. The same couldn't be said for the rest of his brothers boys. Daerion and Aegon had vanished somewhere along the way leaving their Sire anxiously passing through the halls of Lord Ashfords keep.

Truthfully Baelor new that they probably hadn't ran into danger, after all they hadn't received any sort of ransom note. What was more likely was that Daerion had managed to creep away from his guard and find some well stocked alehouse or inn with enough drink and whores to last him through the tourney.

Probably dragging poor Aegon along with him. It was frustrating beyond measure and he's sure that the grays blooming in his hair would soon match Valaar's streak by the time they were found.

He still worried for them nevertheless, they were extensions of his brother, his nephews. He practically saw them as his pups by this point. Losing both their wifes had led to the brothers growing closer in combined grief. 

So when Maekar worried he worried aswell, when Maekar cried he held him close, When Maekar raged he held him back and when Maekar needed more he gave. 

It's just how they were. The hammer and the anvil. 

Smashed together in all.

"The spring rains have flooded many of our paths, perhaps the young princes are just delayed?" Lord Ashford remarked sheepishly, attempting to calm the angered prince. 

" Fuck me -delayed, they're not delayed!" Maekar cursed bitterly sliding his riding coat from his shoulders. 

" Do not curse our gracious host" Baelor chided softly.

" I said fuck me not fuck him!" Maekar growled " It's not his fault father made us attend this miserable circus." He paced around the room,  angerly stopping at the circular windows shining  yellow light through its glass and looking out as if he expected to see his son's galloping along the path right that moment.

"Daerion has done this before you should not have commanded him to join the lists."  Baelor remarked.

"The boy has a hard enough time keeping his feet beneath him. Him on a horse is bound to be a disaster." 

◇◇◇

Dunk

Dunk nearly lept out of his skin when a silent "pst" rang out behind him. Whipping his head around hastily, afraid he'd been caught red handed. 

Instead of meeting the point of a sword he was instead met with the mishevious amber eyes of Lord Ashford's young alpha daughter, Lady Gwin.

"The princes sons are missing, probably dead!" she said quietly. 

Dunks wide eyes widened, "Dead?" 

"Wars have started for less," she looked up at Dunk surveying him as if she could stare straight through him. 

Casting her eyes up and down she smiled wickedly " Your big and stupid " she raised her hand as if to strike him and Dunk backed up into the wall behind him with a jump. 

No strike ever came however, instead she grinned up at him with a rougeish smile. Dunk scowled at the unruly pup, and suddenly felt like he was staring at his squire instead of a lords daughter.

She scampered off before Dunk could respond, leaving him alone and confused for the thousandth time that day. 

Turning back to the conversation at hand he zeroed in on the princes voices

◇●◇

Bealor

Reassuring his brother was turning out to be futile.  " They've only been missing a day, no doubt Ser Roland will turn them up soon."

"When the tourney is over perhaps." Maekar growled.

"Daeron belongs on a tourney no more than Aerys or  Rhaegel" the thought of his two younger brothers anywhere near a tourneys feilds was  laughably unlikely.

" By which you mean hed rather ride a whore than a horse." 

"That is not what I said." 

His brother sat down with a huff, " I don't need to be reminded of my son's failings, he can change- He will change god be damned ! "

"Or I swear I'll see him dead." Maekar cursed, the statement was untrue Baelor knew, the Alpha had always been either to soft or too hard on his pups.

It was either one or the other with him never inbetween. 

Dyanna had been his inbetween. 

His brother sniffed the air pausedly, then directed his ire towards the door. Spying a glimpse of some hidden figures cloak by the edge of the doors frame. 

Maekar snarled always quick to anger, " You!?...Who are you- what do you gain by spying on us?" 

◇◇◇

Dunk

.".fuck. "