A Dragon Never Regrets

19 Years Earlier.

“Mae, are you sure about this, my darling?” Father always told her that battle was no place for a woman, let alone a girl. And the only reason she has never hated him for saying those words to her is because her father actually gives a shit about her. He is not called “Daeron the Good” for nothing. He’s kind-hearted and, OK, maybe a little too soft, but he’s fair. He’s caring. And that’s what should count—is what Baelor thinks, anyway. Because of course he would, he’s just as good as their father in heart and soul, if not, even more so. Still, Maekar can’t help but glare at her father defiantly as she takes the first swing. Her sword clashes with ease against her brother’s, who is biting his bottom lip to keep from smirking at her. She glares at him, too, but with determination. Though, she doesn’t know why she bothers. Because since that first time five years ago, when Baelor let her win and she swore never to speak to him again if he ever did such a thing again, well...she hasn’t won once. Which makes her furious with herself, but on the bright side, at least her brother kept his promise (like he always does.) Baelor takes a step back when she pivots her sword, slaps the blade away with his own. Grins mischievously when she growls quietly under her breath. Bright violet eyes ever burning with rage, if not, just pure annoyance at something or someone. (Gods, he adores her fire—his little dragon’s fire.) He purses his lips when he hears their mother muttering to their father; “Baelor won’t hurt her. You worry for nothing, my love.” His eyes half widen as he sees his sister’s left eye twitch. He swears he feels sympathetic for her constant cause to prove herself to their father, but he really cannot help chuckling. Because his sister also happens to be hilariously adorable when angered just so. Meanwhile, all Maekar can think with her preteen brain is, I will fucking make him hurt me, mother! How dare you think I need coddling still! Baelor’s eyes widen then the moment she pivots forward again, only this time, to end up falling flat on her front. “Oh, fuck...” Mutters their father, some fear etched into his voice for the storm he feels coming already. Their mother’s gasp of horror snaps Baelor out of his own horror. He drops the sword into the sand at his feet before rushing over to his sister. He kneels down and reaches forward to gently wipe the sand from her face. And seeing her still glaring, with thankfully no blood on her, Baelor can’t help smirking very slightly. “Are you OK?” “Are you...” Her eye twitches again, her teeth grit together as she asks, in a dangerously calm tone, “Are you fucking laughing at me?” Baelor rolls his eyes, which is probably why he is too late to notice her hand grabbing her sword in sand. The next second, he is quite literally seeing stars. This time, their father is gasping, while their mother yells angrily, “Maekar!” “Ow...” Baelor simply mumbles as he flips back onto his backside. He places a hand over his now throbbing temple. Maekar’s eyes are wide in shock. She glances back at her hand, dropping the sword back in the sand like it has burned her. “I’m...” She looks back at her brother. “I’m sorry.” She whispers hastily. Pulls herself up on her knees. “Baelor, I’m—“ “It’s OK, Maekar.” She recoils in horror when he reaches out his other hand to her. Her eyes still on his head. She wonders why mother hasn’t come over to slap her, and feels even worse when she glances over and sees her father holding mother back. She doesn’t dare to look at her father’s expression after seeing the dangerous one on her mother’s... Baelor doesn’t play into her insecurities. He never does. And with a huff, he’s pulling himself up onto his feet. He grabs her hand as he does so, pulling her up with him. “I hurt you.” Baelor laughs. Winces. Grins at her and asks, “Wasn’t that the entire point of us sparring?” “Sparring, brother.” Maekar glares, finally relaxing a little when she sees he is truly OK. “I could have blinded you, or worse.” “I do not think you’re that good yet.” Baelor can’t help grinning even wider when she only continues to glare. He sighs, throws an arm around the back of her shoulders, pulls her close and says, “Father looks—dare I say it?—proud.” Maekar’s eyes dart to her father, who, indeed, has his free hand over his heart as he smiles favourably upon her. “As am I, little sister.” Maekar cannot remember the last time her heart felt so full.

Now.

“We have given him...” And that’s where Maekar stops listening already, because she neither understands nor cares about the fucking details of medicine. She just wants her brother to wake the fuck up and be OK. Like he always is... Only, he isn’t. Not right now, at least. For the first time ever in her life, he’s not OK, and it’s because of her. She simply stands over his bedside and stares down at him as she waits for Yormwell to finish his waffling. “We have made him as comfortable as possible. The stitching is holding very nicely. But, his skull was cracked, Your Grace, and some...er, fluids...have leaked out from his brains.” Maekar feels blood in her mouth, and finally lets her bottom lip go. She swipes the damage away, wishing she could do so with this fucking shit storm she has created. She lets out a quiet but shaky breath. Yormwell obviously hears it, because he hurries to tell her, “But he is strong, Your Grace. Most men would have already succumb to this type of injury. Prince Baelor is breathing steady. And begging pardon, Your Grace, but if I may add, ‘tis a blessing that it wasn’t a man’s power that struck His Grace...” Maekar slowly glances at the maester, who looks deeply terrified of what she will say to him. She smiles slowly, even lets out a chuckle. Yormwell smiles carefully, but relaxes fully then as she tells him, “That has actually cheered me up, Yormwell. Thank you.” The maester bows his head courteously. “You honour me, my lady.” Maekar simply nods in acknowledgement. Takes one last look at her brother, then, makes her way to the door. She knows she doesn’t need to tell Yormwell to find her immediately if Baelor wakes. And she’s so thankful that she doesn’t have to waste time doing so, because the moment she closes the door behind her, tears begin pouring from her eyes. “Is he dead??” Fucking Gods! Can she not get just 1 fucking second to herself!? Maekar spins around, hand on her heart. Glaring lightly when she sees her brother’s son stood before her. “N-No.” She clears her throat and quickly swipes at her wet face. Valarr’s shoulders sag with relief. “Thank the Gods.” He whispers to himself. Maekar holds back a scoff. Instead, stares at her nephew with tired eyes and says, “I imagine you must hate me now.” “No.” Valarr’s eyes—one violet and one brown, just like his father’s—soften. His head shakes once. Maekar frowns at him, wholly confused. “To be honest, I don’t even hate the hedge knight. Though, I have tried, believe me.” Valarr says, with a small teasing smile, “Although, I do hate father, just a little, for always being so bloody righteous. If he doesn’t die, I shall be giving him a piece of my mind, for having almost lost his.” Maekar cracks a tiny smile. Always amazed by how like his father he is, but also how like her he can be at times. His bluntness being one thing majorly similar. “Still, I wonder...” Valarr has lost all humour. Is now shaking his head in disdain as he asks his aunt, “Why would the Gods allow my father’s own sister to strike him so hard he cannot wake and leave a simple hedge knight practically unscathed?” Maekar knows that Valarr has a good and kind heart just like his father, but he’s still young and rather snobby when it comes to class. Which, Maekar understands, being that way still, herself. But her judgements, she feels are earned. She sighs, leans against the cold stone wall beside her brother’s door. Looks at her nephew and says, “All of the greatest dragons came from the same thing; one small egg, that could fit in the palm of your hand. Ser Duncan is but an egg, just waiting to grow into a mighty beast. At least, that is what your father seemed to think.” She smiles at the irony—her own little Egg. Then, she smiles because: one good man finding another, her good little Egg finding another good little (giant) egg. Valarr scoffs. Though, he lightly jests as he mutters, “He has already grown into a mighty beast.” “Do not try to be smart, boy.” Maekar gives him a playful glare. “I am smart.” Valarr airs pompously. “Exactly. So, you do not need to try.”

1 Day Later.

Maekar has almost fallen asleep when she hears the floorboards creaking. She relaxes, even smiles to herself when she sees it’s only her little Aegon. She clears her throat and is about to call out to him. But sitting up slowly in her chair as she does so, her lips clamp shut and her heart races when she sees the small blade in his hand. Without the candlelight flickering off the metal, she wouldn’t have noticed. Maekar slowly sits forward in her seat. Doesn’t make a sound as she just watches him. She wants to see what he will do. Hopes to all the Gods, if they even exist, for him not to do it. Knows deep in her heart that he wants to. And it fucking kills her. He edges forward slowly. Stops. Takes a steadying breath. Then, edges forward again. And this time, Maekar instinctively leans out of her seat, on the verge of standing. She knows Aerion is a monster, but he is still her son, as is Aegon. Egg instantly halts at the sound of a creak. His head whips to the left to see his mother on the very edge of her seat. His heart pounds, but he doesn’t let go of the blade. Maekar knows she must protect Aerion, but she also cannot deny her darling baby the opportunity that he so clearly wishes. With a pounding heart of her own, she simply stares at her little Egg. Neither stopping him, nor permitting him. Egg stares back at her for a few moments. Tears welling up in his eyes. His hand shaking a little now. Maekar bites her tongue and is now stopping herself from going to Egg instead. Her heart is no longer pounding, but withering instead. Because she already knows her little darling doesn’t have it in him to be cruel. Egg’s lips tremble. Eyes snapping over to glare at his brother with all the hate he feels for him. But it’s still not enough. He lets out a pitiful little sob as the blade finally falls from his hand. Maekar is beside him before it even clatters to the floor. She doesn’t know what to say—Baelor would know what to say—so, she simply kneels down beside her youngest and pulls him in for a hug. She did not know how bad it was. But she fucking knew Aerion was bad. This is her fault. And by the Gods—no—by her brother, she will fix it. Or she will fucking die trying.

2 Days Later.

“Aerion is awake.” Maekar sighs over the words. She feels guilty that her brother still isn’t, but feels guilty, also, for feeling guilty that she isn’t happier that her son woke first...or at all. Gods, she’s definitely not a good person. (No wonder they gave her back her monster of a son instead of her perfect and all-good brother.) “He woke this morning.” Still, Maekar has been told by Yormwell that Baelor may be able to hear her still, and had been encouraged to speak with him as often as she could. Valaar, and Egg, too, have been doing the same. And Maekar has even granted Egg’s request to let the hedge knight visit her brother on the morrow. “He seems...” Maekar’s top lip curls in disgust as she mutters, “Unchanged. Unfortunately.” Oh, yes, she also, feels guilty for wishing that the hedge knight had beaten some sense, or at the very least, some humility into her son. Which is funny, because at the time her son was being beaten to death, she almost killed Baelor...and by “funny”, she actually means horrific. “Still, hopefully a good few years in the Free Cities should show him some fucking sense.” Though, she doubts it. But smiles to herself anyway, knowing that Baelor would see that in her face, because he knows her better than anyone ever has. There is a knock at the door just as Maekar opens her mouth to speak again. And before she can say anything, the door opens. She scowls, ready to scold whoever dares to enter without permission. Then, rolls her eyes upon seeing Aerion hobbling in. “What is it, Aerion?” Maekar asks calmly, leans back in her seat. Aerion scoffs quietly. Clears his throat with a wince before croaking out, “I cannot simply visit my uncle?” He arches a brow, pointedly adds, “Or my mother, for that matter?” Maekar scoffs lightly back. Arches an amused brow and asks, “And what matter do you seek me for now? No doubt it is something.” She mutters to herself, “It always is, with you.” Aerion fights back the urge to glare. Tries to keep calm as he tells her, just like he’s been practicing; “I am not going to the Free Cities. Over my dead body.” Maekar is unmoved by his words. Stares back at him, uncaring. Tells him, “You will go where I say you will go.” “I will not.” Aerion snips back quickly before he can chicken out. Maekar lifts a brow. “Oh?” Tilts her head. “Where will go then?” She asks, clearly humouring him with her amused little smirk. Aerion opens his mouth to speak, but his mother cuts him off. “Because it won’t be back home. Not after I tell your grandfather what a naughty boy you’ve been.” “And what will he say when he finds out it was you who struck Uncle Baelor; his favourite?!” Aerion snaps back, glare immediately faltering when he sees her expression turn to fucking stone. Maekar feels just a tiny bit of satisfaction when he stumbles as she slowly rises from her chair. But mostly, she just feels fury right now. Aerion’s eyes are half wide with fear as she takes slow steps towards him. And he doesn’t stand his ground, so much as know not to turn his fucking back on her, nor back away and make her even more pissed off at him. “You will go to the Free Cities.” Maekar tells him, with a firm, no-arguments tone, “You will learn what it is to be a decent fucking human-being.” He stands a head taller than her, but he is trembling down at her as she glares up at him and says, “Or I will disown you!” “But—“ “Shut up!” Maekar snaps, voice rising for a moment as she does. Aerion’s lips purse, though, she can still see defiance lingering in his violet eyes. Maekar points a finger up at him as she seethes out her next words, “You will do this, if you have any shred of humanity inside of you! If you have any kind of fucking love for any of your kin! For anyone, but yourself!” She almost has him for a second there, she sees him almost going to back down. But then, because of her brother, she gets carried away and says, “You will do this, because if you don’t, I will fucking kill you, Aerion!” She wouldn’t really, but it seems to shake him to his core. Finally, something touches whatever it is inside of her monster son. Aerion backs away, eyes wide with shock. One moment, he is staring at her with hurt in his eyes, and the next, he is glaring with hatred and snarling the first words he can think of; grabs the words he know will hurt her most right now: “Like you tried to kill your own brother?!” Maekar’s eyes widen with absolute rage. Without thinking, she reaches out and slaps his right cheek so hard that he stumbles back a few paces. Again, Aerion looks shocked and deeply hurt. She does not hit him, ever. She roughs him up, yes, but she has never hit him before. His hand flies to his face. But when he glances up to see not an ounce of regret on her face, instead, sees her glaring at him, Aerion can’t help the deep hurt he suddenly feels. It overwhelms him so much, he doesn’t think about moving against her until he is an inch away from her. Maekar does not flinch. Sees it coming. She glares up at him. Eyes never leaving his as she tilts her head in motion to his curled fists shaking at his sides. Aerion glares down at her, his whole body vibrating with anger. “Go ahead. I fucking dare you, you little shit.” Maekar tells him, words calm, save for the way she grits them out, “Give me that final reason to unmake you.” After a tense few seconds, Aerion sees, just as always with his cold-hearted mother, he will get fucking nowhere. Maekar doesn’t even feel sorry for him when he runs off with a sorrowful look on his face.