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Anger wasn't in Dunk's blood. Violence didn't course through his veins like sewage running through water. He was, in some regards, more akin to an omega than an alpha. Seeing the violence in Flea Bottom, he promised himself he would never needlessly spill blood.
Yet, here, in this arena, the song of brutality called his name. Through the ringing of his ears, he struck his sword with the Lord of a drunken man. Aerion swung his blade downwards onto Dunk's shoulder, narrowly missing his head. Dunk took this opportunity to wrestle Aerion to the ground, straddling him while he took his shield to the man's face. Rage clouded Dunk's vision, and he could think of nothing else besides breaking every bone in his opponent's body. Rarely had Dunk ever wanted to truly hurt someone, but the urge to beat Aerion until he died became stronger each time he brought his shield down. When he had had enough, he seized the mask from Aerion's face and dropped the shield. His fist came down with a sickening crack upon Aerion's face.
As he was about to hit him again, he could see Aerion's lips move, violet eyes searching Dunk's face for any hint of mercy. Dunk did not want to be merciful. But he was a knight. A hedge knight, but a knight nonetheless. He would be honorable.
"I yield. I yield," the fear in his voice obvious. He had been brought to his knees. The dragon was defeated.
Dunk looked behind him. The other knights were still dueling. He stood up and pulled Aerion by his feet in front of Maekar. Aerion would announce his defeat in front of everyone.
He picked Aerion up so they were flush, his chest heaving.
"Tell them!"
Aerion shook his head.
"Tell—" he cut himself off. They were so close. He could smell him, and it was not the musky, rich scent of an alpha. It was the sweet, flowery scent of an omega. Aerion looked at him with the look of a man whose secret has just been found out. He knew Dunk knew.
He shook his head and cleared his head. This was not the time. No matter how intoxicating Aerion's scent was, he had to stop the fighting.
He repeated himself, and with reluctance, Aerion listened. The trial was over, but there were other matters on his mind.
There was no muscle in his body that did not hurt. Days later, he still lay in his bed, his eye still swollen, cuts barely scabbing over, ears still ringing. These were unimportant to him. No matter how much his muscles ached or his cuts stung, he ignored this pain for the one topic on his mind.
Aerion was an omega. And his scent was nothing as Dunk had ever smelled. Beneath the sweat and dirt, there was the saccharine smell of lemon and lilac over the vanilla undertone.
He hasn't known Aerion for long, but the man was nothing like an omega. Where omegas were meant to be soft, he was sharp. He was cruel and uncaring, whereas omegas were loving and compassionate.
Knock knock.
The sound drew Dunk from these thoughts. He sat up in bed and looked at the door.
"Come in," he called.
The door opened to reveal a slight servant. "Ser Duncan. The prince would like to see you."
Dunk blinked. "Me?"
"Yes, Ser."
"Aye," he nodded. "I will be there soon."
She nodded and shut the door.
Dunk turned back to his sheets. There was only one thing this could be about. What would become of him? Imprisonment? Exile? Or perhaps Aerion would kill him outright. Would he strangle him? Stab him? No doubt the spectacle would be gory.
He shook his head. It didn't matter what happened. The prince had called him, and he must heed the call.
He got up, wincing at the pain, and got dressed. He walked down to the prince's living quarters, hesitating at the door. With bated breath, he knocked on the door.
"Come in," he heard.
He opened the door and looked upon the prince. His face was swollen, and bandages covered his body. Tensions were high, and Dunk could hear his heart pounding. Aerion looked five seconds from jumping out of the bed and tearing Dunk's jugular out with his teeth.
"My Prince—"
"Shut up," Aerion snarled. "You know, don't you." It was more of a statement than it was a question.
"… You're an omega."
Aerion stood up and crossed over to Dunk with an almost inhuman speed, albeit with a bit of difficulty. He narrowed his eyes at him.
"If you tell anyone, I will kill you."
Dunk nodded, throat closing.
"I am not an omega," he spat, venom in his voice. "I am a dragon. I am above you in every way fathomable," he said, pushing Dunk against the door. "If you breathe a word about this to anyone, I will cut off your tongue and force you to eat it."
"I promise," he said, putting his hand over his chest. "I will tell no one."
Aerion bared his teeth. "Good. Then leave." He waved his hand, turning his back to him. "I wish not to see you anymore."
"Yes, my Prince," he said, turning around and closing the door behind him. He walked back to his quarters and sat down on the bed.
Aerion was no omega. He was the furthest thing from one. Aerion was as much of an omega as Dunk was an alpha. Perhaps in that aspect, they were alike.
Three days later, he was cleared of his injuries. Three days later, Maekar called him to the court and made him kneel.
"You will serve the Targaryen house," he said, eyes boring into Dunk. "You will protect our family until you die."
"Yes, my Lord."
He glanced up at Maekar. His eyes were sunken, the bags heavy. It had been less than a week since the trial, yet the man looked like he had aged decades. No doubt the preparation of his brother's funeral had taken a toll on him. It had taken a toll on Dunk as well, the memory of Baelor crumpling to the ground in a gory mess still fresh in his mind.
"You will personally protect the family. Cater to our needs and protect us.
Dunk nodded. "I shall, my Lord.
"Good. You are dismissed, Ser Duncan."
Dunk rose and turned towards the exit, eager to leave. "Ser. Hold."
There was no question as to what this could be about. He turned and looked at the lord.
"You are… aware of Aerion's condition, yes?" he said, avoiding the word omega like it would infect him.
"I am."
"And you are aware you can not tell anyone? The Targaryens, especially a prince such as my son, have a reputation to uphold. We are meant to be strong, not frail like omegas often are. If people knew what he was, he would lose the respect of the kingdom."
Dunk never had a family. He was raised alone, scraping the bottom of the gutters for food. Ser Arlan was the closest thing he had to a family. But he couldn't begin to imagine what it was like to have a family, only for them to throw you away when you didn't present as an alpha.
A constant trial with your family, a constant war inside yourself. Instincts versus mentality.
But he was not a Targaryen. He knew not what it was like being royalty. He was a knight, a hedge knight at that.
Dunk turned towards the door again. "I understand, my Lord." And with the words hanging heavy in the air, he left.
Throughout his life, Dunk had faced hardship.
Starvation, death, abandonment, abuse. It was not new to him. He had weathered these burdens with discipline and carried them on his stalwart shoulders.
Yet, he found the greatest trial he had to bear was the absence of the prince's scent.
He had only smelled it for a few seconds, seconds that felt like years. A smell that both invigorated him and left him intoxicated, begging for more. Dunk had been teased with a taste before it was ripped out of his hands without warning.
When he dreamed, he pictured the price—his prince— bearing his neck, the slit of his collar beckoning Dunk to lean down and bite the spot, marking him as his.
He began washing his clothes more.
When out on his duties, he would occasionally catch a glimpse of cropped silver hair turning a corner. When training, it felt like eyes were on him, but when he turned, he saw no one. He knew he was there, but there was no proof without his smell or sight.
For the past week, he had been set to patrol the castle. A boring but easy task.
As he walked, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and was greeted by a young boy dressed in servants' clothing.
"Ser Duncan," he greeted. "Lord Aerion wishes to speak with you."
Again?
"Did he say why?"
"No, Ser. It was a short message. The prince barely opened his door."
Dunk may have been thick-headed, but he was not so thick-headed as to catch on to what this could have meant.
Dunk thanked the boy and watched him run away.
As Dunk made his way to the royal quarters, he wondered if he was the only person outside the Targaryen family who knew the prince was an omega? The only one who knew it was not just madness that fell upon him, but a blazing pyre that could not be extinguished?
When he reached the door, he could smell it. It was faint, but it was the unmistakable smell of the fever. If Dunk had not smelled it before, he likely would have never noticed.
As he was about to knock on the wooden door, it opened just enough for a pale hand to grab Dunk's arm and pull him into the room.
The room, which once was bright and red with the sun shining through, was now dim and heavy with the scent of omega permeating his nostrils. The thick smell fell upon his tongue, the taste of a citrus vanilla with flowers filled his throat, and left him wanting more.
The door slammed behind him as he was pushed up against it, barring Dunk from moving with his arm. The prince was flushed, breath coming out in short huffs. His violet eyes stared at Dunk, glazed over with the fever that plagued him.
"You fucking—" he took a labored breath in. "You dog," he snarled. "You pathetic, lowly flea eater. I should kill you for what you've done to me."
Dunk took a deep breath in, unsure of what to say. "I—"
Before he could get the word out, Aerion surged forward and kissed him.
Or a kiss was perhaps an understatement. It was something more violent, more hungry. An attack on him, rather than a kiss.
Teeth sank into Dunk's bottom lip, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth. He tried to pull back, but the stubborn prince took it as a challenge and only bit down harder so he could not escape. He brought his hands to Dunk's face and pulled him down, adjusting his head so their mouths fit together.
When Aerion pulled away from the kiss, irises eaten by the black of his pupils, he tightened his grip on Dunk's face.
"My prince—"
"Shut up, oaf," he barked. He wrapped his hand around Dunk's throat and pushed his head against the door. He let out a hiss of pain as his head hit the door with a dull thud. Aerion narrowed his eyes at him.
"You are going to take me to bed."
Dunk's eyes widened. Had he hit his head that hard? But, looking into the prince's eyes, he knew that he was serious.
"My prince, I don't think this is a good idea—"
The omega leaned in slightly and tightened his grip around Dunk's throat, black spots dancing in his vision.
"I am your prince. And I say you are going to fuck me."
He loosened his hand around his throat and leaned in, their lips practically touching.
"Besides," he said, quieter, "I know you want it." He smirked at the muscles in Dunk's body tensing. "Don't think I can't smell you when I'm near." His teeth met the scent gland on Dunk's neck. "How you reek of arousal," he said as he bit down on Dunk's gland. Dunk's traitorous mouth let out a whine as Aerion's canines met his skin.
"You have no honor. Tonight, you will fuck me until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?"
Dunk looked into Aerion's eyes and nodded. "A-aye, my prince."
With a hungry smile, Aerion led Dunk to the bed. "Armor off. Now."
Dazed, Dunk began to take his armor off. His hands were shaking as he undid the belt that held the armor. With an annoyed huff, Aerion slapped Dunk's hands away. "Must you be so fucking slow?" he quickly undid the clasps and took off the rest of his clothing.
Dunk watched with rapt attention as Aerion undid the robe that covered his body. He was lean, but he was strong, muscles taut as he moved. Starting at his navel was a thin line of white hair that got darker as it got closer to his cunt, soaked in slick. He grabbed Dunk's shoulders and pushed him down to his knees before sitting on the bed, spreading his legs. His cunt was pink and glistening, the wetness traveling down his thighs. Now, with nothing covering it, the smell of omega was stronger than it had ever been. It filled Dunk's senses until it was all he could think about.
"Now," Aerion said, putting his hand on Dunk's head and leaning forward. "You are going to eat my cunt," he told him, the soft touch of his hand on Dunk's head suddenly turning harsh as he pulled on Dunk's hair.
Dunk let out a moan and nodded. "Ye-yes, my prince."
And with that, Aerion pulled him close to his cunt, burying Dunk's face in it. With little hesitation, Dunk licked a stripe up Aerion's cunt, earning a moan from the other man. The taste was better than any food or ale Dunk had tasted. It was Aerion's scent, but there was something distinct about it, something that the knight couldn't quite place. The sweet scent of omega was there, but also an earthy undertone. It was like sleeping outside in a field, under a tree with flowers surrounding it. The taste of a simpler time in Dunk's life.
Aerion let out a shaky exhale at the motion, his grip on Dunk's hair tightening to an almost painful degree. He let a curse out under his breath as Dunk continued to bury his face in his cunt. As Aerion's breath became staggered, Dunk dipped his tongue into Aerion's hole, causing a loud moan to escape Aerion's mouth. He fucked it inside, going as deep as he possibly could. Soon, he focused on Aerion's dick and instead slipped a finger inside.
"My Gods—" Aerion whimpered. Dunk pulled away to ask if he was okay, but before he could get the words out, Aerion grabbed his face. "You're not to stop till I say you can."
Dunk nodded and continued to finger Aerion's hole, first going slow before hurrying. He ate and fingered Aerion for what felt like hours, but could not have been for more than a few minutes. Aerion's breath became louder, beginning to let out whimpers as he got closer.
Dunk slipped another finger in and spread them inside, stretching Aerion's hole and causing more slick to drip down.
A hard thrust was enough to send Aerion over the edge. His thighs became a vice around Dunk's head as slick covered his face. He lapped it up as it came out like a dog who hadn't drunken in days. When his orgasm was over, Dunk pulled away and looked at the prince.
His face down to his chest was flushed, a beautiful reddish-pink covering it. He was heaving like he couldn't catch his breath. Underneath lidded eyes, pupils swallowed his lustful violet eyes.
Only a minute passed before Aerion pulled Dunk's hair so they were eye to eye.
"You," he breathed, barely able to get the words out, "are going to fuck me. Now."
Dunk nodded, relishing the sting. "Ay-aye, my prince."
Sparing no time, he and Dunk clambered onto the bed with Dunk on top and Aerion underneath him, looking at him like he wanted to eat him.
Not that Dunk would mind.
Dunk attempted to put his fingers back in Aerion. The man was so tight that it wouldn't surprise Dunk if he had never been penetrated. Before he could get them in, Aerion grabbed his arm and shook his head.
"No," he said with the finality of a man whose mind couldn't be changed. "I said you are going to fuck me. I have all the preparation needed."
"Are you sure—"
"Goddammit oaf, if you do not fuck me right now, I will slit your throat in your sleep."
Dunk couldn't argue with that. Carefully and slowly, Dunk spread Aerion's legs, a perfect view to Aerion's cunt. With the patience of a saint, Dunk slipped his cock in, feeling the warm, tight heat. Before he got halfway in, Aerion let out a pained hiss, cursing under his breath. His face was scrunched as if he was uncomfortable. Dunk stopped and took a breath.
"Are you… okay?"
It felt strange to ask the Prince Targaryen if he was in pain, especially since he could still see bruises and cuts that had yet to heal on Aerion's body.
Aerion looked at him like he had personally offended him.
"Get to it."
Pride would be the Prince's downfall, Dunk knew that. He would rather live in pain than admit to seeking help. So, attempting to be careful, Dunk slipped the rest of his cock in, Aerion's cunt stretching around it to welcome it.
Aerion's hands dug into the linen sheets as he tried to calm his face as to not show weakness. Even here, his guard was up, a life trained to show no weakness under any condition. Dunk waited for a moment as he waited for Aerion's signal. The man said nothing, but gave him a look that could wither plants. Dunk took that as a sign to move, slowly at first as to not hurt him.
Each time Dunk thrust in, Aerion would let out a small whimper at the sensation. To not be heard, he covered his mouth, muting the litany of pleasure, and that could not happen. Dunk took Aerion's wrist and pinned his arms above his head. His whole hand fit around both of Aerion's wrists, and if that didn't make Dunk feel a surge of desire.
Dunk rammed into Aerion, the wet and messy sounds of sex filling the room. Aerion let out whimpers and ah's, a testament he was enjoying this. Dunk stayed quiet sans the occasional grunts of effort. There was no denying that Aerion's cunt felt heavenly, but the pleasure was about Aerion, not him. He had the honor to serve the prince, and he would fulfill the duty as best he could.
Attemping to meet his thrusts, Aerion thrust his hips in time as his cunt began to pulse around Dunk's cock. Dunk sped up until it they melted together, one body and soul. He went on until Dunk could not tell where Aerion ended and he began. A dragon and a knight, enemies, becoming one in an act of physical affection.
When Aerion came, it was more of a violent act. His nails curled into Dunk's palms while his body violently shook. His cunt held onto Dunk's cock, unwilling to let go. The pressure was unlike anything, and Dunk let himself go, seed spilling into Aerion.
Their bodies were in sync as they tried to catch their breaths. Dunk pulled out, causing Aerion to whine at the loss. He watched with interest as cum slowly trickled out of Aerion's hole.
Before Dunk could fully catch his breath, Aerion grabbed his shoulders and pushed him over so he was on his back. He climbed on top of him, barely able to straddle Dunk's hips. The realization of just how much smaller Aerion was hit him harder than the winds of the North. Curiosity struck him, and he took his hands and wrapped them around Aerion's waist. His fingers overlapped. He had his hands around Aerion's entire body, and his fingers still overlapped. He let out a groan as his cock stood erect at the knowledge.
Aerion took this as his chance and sank down onto Dunk's prick. Slowly, like he hadn't done this before, Aerion pushed himself up so Dunk was barely in him. He sat down again like he was testing Dunk's resolve, seeing whether or not the alpha would grab him and force him up and down. The pace was torture, but when it became apparent that Dunk wasn't going to do that, Aerion sped up, pacing himself, still at an almost torturous speed.
Experimentally, Aerion wrapped his fingers around Dunk's throat, putting a minuscule amount of pressure on it. Despite everything, Dunk was not scared. Even here, with the prince on top and his fingers around Dunk's throat, he felt no hint of fear. Aerion could kill him, and Dunk would thank him.
The thought did nothing but make his cock twitch.
For what could've been hours, Dunk watched Aerion. His hair was plastered to his face, sweat beading down his forehead as he concentrated on hitting his sensitive spot. His face was a light shade of pink, no doubt the exertion and exhaustion getting to him. He wore a face of resolve, his focus being entirely on riding Dunk.
Aerion must have noticed Dunk staring in admiration and tightened his grip around Dunk's throat.
"Don't look at me like that, you dog," he hissed, though his eyes said a different thing.
Unable to get the words out, Dunk could only nod slightly.
As Aerion sped up, the grip on Dunk's neck only grew. It wasn't long until Dunk's vision was blackened and the dizziness set in, but the knot of pleasure in Dunk's stomach increased as he became unable to breathe.
When he came, Aerion lessened his grip and ground down on Dunk's cock. The pleasure ran through him like a lightning strike—sudden and deadly. The omega's hands were still around his throat, but he could breathe now. If he had never thanked the Gods for air, he was sure to do it now.
As the orgasm came to an end, Aerion looked at him with an indescribable look before beginning to move again.
"Shit—" Dunk moaned, reaching for Aerion's hips to stop him. When his hands reached him, Aerion's hands tightened around his throat again. The message clear. He was to sit here and take it, no matter the pain.
Aerion kept riding him, his cock aching at the overstimulation. His mind was clouded with pleasure, but the pain was nothing like he had ever felt. It was as if he was both floating and drowning. Dunk squeezed his eyes shut as Aerion continued to move. Blood filled his mouth and he realized he must've been biting in an attempt to ease the sensation on his most sensitive part.
"Fuck—" Aerion groaned, his cunt pulsing in a rhythmic song. With lightning speed, he leaned down and bit Dunk—not a mating bite, but close enough tell everyone else that Dunk was his.
When the orgasm finished, Aerion lifted himself up, slick and cum dripping out of him. He made a face of disgust and gathered the mixture with two fingers.
"Look at the mess you made," he sneered, fingers coming towards Dunk's mouth. "Clean your prince up."
Like a worshipper listening to their God, Dunk opened his mouth and allowed entry for the fingers. The taste was a mix of sweet and salty, and it was divine. He continued to swirl his tongue and suck until his fingers were clean. Aerion took his fingers out, looking pleased. "Good dog."
Dunk nodded, his mind too foggy to think of anything else to say.
Aerion looked at Dunk for a long moment, his eyes studying his face. There was a decision to be made, but Dunk was unsure what it was. Eventually, he spoke.
"Be back in two hours," and then, leaning close to Dunk's ear, he whispered, "and remember, Ser Duncan. You are mine. If I find out you have been with anyone else, I will do much worse than break their fingers."
To Dunk's surprise, he didn't care. If this is what Aerion required of him, this is what he would do.
"I will."
Aerion pulled back with a sly smile.
"Of course. Now, get out."
With that, Dunk adorned his clothes and headed out, but glanced a spare look behind him to see the prince staring at him like a cat waiting for its prey. He swallowed.
He had waited his whole life. Two hours was nothing.