Chapter Text
As soon as the horn sounded, Maekar sprang to his feet.
Desperate to reach his child, he pushed through the mud, paying no attention to the carnage around him. He had to get to his child, his little dragon. Aerion was laying on the ground, writhing in pain. Maekar fell to his knees, ignoring the mud and blood. He gently picked up his son and hugged him to his chest. His boy was alive, though wounded. Blood still oozed from his thigh and dirt covered his delicate face. Maekar's inner omega sobbed at the sight of his pup in such a state. He pulled his son closer.
“Muña,” Aerion cried, sensing his omega parent's delicate pheromones.
“Hush, my boy. The maester will attend to you shortly,” Maekar said, kissing his son's bloodied forehead.
Out of the corner of his eye, Maekar could see his husband talking to the Hedge Knight. The giant looked terrible, and two other knights were helping him stay on his feet. He knelt before Baelor, his lips moving with difficulty as he spoke.
Maekar could not utter a word, too shaken by his son's condition. His husband, too kind for his own good, smiled at the hedge knight and placed a hand on his shoulder. It all happened in an instant. The maester came to take Aerion away and tend to his wounds. Maekar reluctantly handed his son over to him, then got up from the ground and tried to join Baelor. But before he could reach him, his husband collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Baelor!” Maekar cried, his heart pounding with fear. His husband, the man closest to him, was lying unconscious in the arms of the wounded giant. “Where is the bloody maester?!”
“Your Grace, the prince's helmet...” said the bearded blacksmith. Maekar had no idea who the man was, and at that moment he didn't care. But the blacksmith's observation was correct. The helmet on Baelor's head was dented.
“Seven have mercy... That was my mace,” thought Maekar. A cold terror gripped him. Had his blind concern for their son cost him Baelor's life? Panicking, he tried to pull off the helmet, but he couldn't grasp it through his iron gauntlets.
“Take that helmet off him, for fuck’s sake! And have the maester ready!” Maekar shouted in despair to the men gathered around him.
When one of them finally removed the helmet from Baelor's head, Maekar was able to breathe a little easier. His husband's head was intact. Although the blow had left a large bump. This was a small blessing, but the most important thing was that his husband was alive. Soon, the Kingsguard arrived with the maester and took Baelor to Lord Ashford's castle. Maekar followed them, his heart still pounding with fear. He couldn't afford to break down now. He had to be a pillar of strength; he had to be the anvil for his hammer. That's what the Kingdom needed. That's what his family needed.
˚₊‧꒰ა ✦ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Since their return to Ashford Castle, Maekar had remained by Baelor's bedside.
The maester had examined and treated Baelor thoroughly, but there was little he could do. It was impossible to assess the extent of the damage while the heir to the throne remained unconscious. The maester also did not know how long Baelor might remain unconscious for. Maekar decided to stay by his husband's side. He did not want him to wake up alone and worsen his precarious condition. He did not leave the chamber, not even to check on Aerion. He could not bear to look at his son now. He sat on the stone floor, feeling unworthy of any other place. He was still wearing his heavy armour, dirty from battle. The only thing he had removed were his iron gloves, so that he could hold his husband's hand.
He was stiff with pain and exhaustion. The metal armour was terribly uncomfortable and the floor beneath him was ice cold. Baelor would be angry that Maekar had not taken care of himself.
For Maekar, it was a form of atonement. Punishment for his recklessness and for hurting his husband. He was still afraid that something would happen; that as soon as he closed his eyes, Baelor would leave him. He hadn't even had the chance to tell Baelor that they were expecting another child. What if Baelor died before he had the opportunity to meet the baby? Would their youngest child have to grow up without a father? At the mere thought of it, Maekar's eyes welled up with tears once more.
The door to the chamber opened. Maekar did not even flinch. He remained on the floor beside the bed, holding his husband's hand tightly.
“Muña...” a voice rang out in the room. Valarr, his firstborn, his sweet boy. The young alpha slowly approached the omega cowering by the bed. “Please, get up. You're still wearing your armour and you haven't let anyone tend to your wounds. Father would be heartbroken to see you like this.”
“I can’t leave him,” Maekar whispered, his voice breaking. He didn't dare to look at his son. “This is all my fault. If I hadn't blindly believed Aerion, maybe…”
“I am as guilty as you are. I gave him my armour even though I knew it was too small,” said Valarr, sitting down on the floor next to his Muña.
“You wanted to do the right thing, my sweet boy. You are not guilty in the slightest,” replied Maekar. His son was too honourable, taking responsibility for mistakes that weren't his own. “I will stay with your father until he wakes up. Please keep an eye on your brothers.”
“No, I’ll stay with Father. You must at least change into something more comfortable, Muña,” said Valarr, taking his hand. “I’ve ordered the servants to prepare a bath for you. Then the maester will examine you – no discussion. Please, if not for yourself, do it for Father.”
”You sound just like him, you know?” whispered Maekar. He rose from the ground, agreeing to his son's request. “If anything changes, send for me immediately, all right? Promise me, Valarr.”
“Of course, Muña, I will,” replied Valarr, taking Baelor's hand.
As he walked away, Maekar wondered what he had done to deserve such an understanding and caring son.
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Maekar had to admit that the warm bath had worked wonders on his aching, bruised body.
However, he still couldn't fully relax, given that his husband's condition was still unknown. But when he changed into fresh clothes, which bore the familiar, soothing scent of Baelor, he felt a glimmer of hope. The examination was brief, mainly because Maekar had frightened the poor maester who was supposed to tend to him. Yes, he knew he shouldn't have fought while pregnant. He did not want to listen to some old man nagging him. He had to return to keep vigil at his husband's side.
When he returned to the chamber, Valarr was indeed keeping watch over the still-unconscious Baelor. Their son looked up from the book he had been reading to his father. His eyes widened in surprise. Maekar's rounded belly could not be hidden under his delicate robes.
“Muña, you're...” Valarr whispered. “Did father let you fight in this condition?”
“Your father didn't know yet. I tried to tell him, but the king still needed him. Then they sent us to the tournament, and your brothers went missing. And then Aerion happened...” Maekar said sadly. Gathering his courage, he sat down on the bed next to the unconscious Baelor. He stroked his husband's cheek. “Although, knowing your father, he probably saw through me.”
“What did the maester say? Are you sure you're all right? And the baby?” Valarr asked, concerned.
“Everything is fine, my sweet boy. You needn't worry,” replied Maekar, smiling wearily at his son. “May I ask a favour of you?”
“Of course, Muña,” Valarr agreed.
“We'll take your father to King's Landing as soon as the maester says it’s safe. Have the Kingsguard ready to depart. Your brothers too. Lord Ashford was supposed to prepare a suitable carriage, so that needs to be checked as well,” Maekar began. He felt bad about putting such a responsibility on his son, but he knew he couldn't handle it himself. He was too worried about his husband's condition. “And please, send a letter to the king. He should know what has happened.”
“I'll do as you say, Muña. You don't have to worry about anything,” Valarr replied, taking his omega parent by the hand.
“Can I ask you one more favour?” Maekar asked. Valarr nodded in agreement. “Will you check on Aerion?”
“Of course, Muña,” replied Valarr. “I'll be back once I've taken care of everything. You rest. Father would be heartbroken to know that you're tormenting yourself over him.”
“Thank you, my sweet boy,” Maekar replied. His heart swelled with pride at seeing what a man his firstborn son had become. “You will be a great king one day, you know?”
"I hope it will be many years from now, long after father's reign has ended,” said Valarr, smiling sadly. Then he left the chamber, leaving his parents to rest.
Maekar curled up on the bed beside his husband. He took Baelor's hand, revelling in its familiar warmth. He hoped that, when he woke up, Baelor would forgive him for his foolishness. He placed his hand on his pregnant belly, still regretting that he had not told his husband about the baby before leaving for the tournament. Perhaps then their fate would have been different. He sank into thoughts, listening to Baelor's steady breathing. He did not even realise when he had fallen asleep.