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Maekar was not in love with his eldest brother.

No, absolutely not.

He most certainly did not lie awake every night before falling asleep, thinking about how inseparable the two of them had been as children. He did not lie in bed wide awake at three in the morning, staring at the ceiling and wondering when everything had changed.

When Maekar was younger, he followed his brother around like a lost puppy. Others sometimes told him he was like Baelor’s shadow, never left him alone for even a moment. During shared dinners, he would sit beside him and occasionally sneak pieces of boiled vegetables he despised onto Baelor’s plate. Baelor never scolded him for it, he would simply smile and eat the unwanted vegetables without another word.

Maekar felt safe with him. Whenever someone mocked him, all he had to do was tell Baelor, and his brother would take care of it. He confided in him about every problem. Before long, everyone knew they could not mistreat Maekar. They could not mock him, take his toys, insult him, or they would face Baelor’s wrath.

The worst moments for Maekar were when Baelor was not near him. When he had to leave the city with their father because of the king’s duties and those of his heir. Baelor always came to say goodbye and promised he would return soon, that Maekar would hardly notice he had been gone.

But Maekar knew that was not true. He had overheard the maids whispering that the king and prince would be away for at least three weeks. Still, he did not want to cry in front of Baelor. He was a big boy now, twelve years old, he could endure without his brother’s attention for that long.

He would spend entire days sitting in his chambers, waiting for Baelor to return. He had all his meals brought to him there so he would not have to leave at all. The maids tried to coax him into the daylight, the guards offered to train with him. But he remained in his darkened chambers, leafing through the books Baelor used to read aloud to him.

A year later, Baelor presented as an alpha. No one was surprised, he was tall, strong and protective. There had never been any doubt he would be an alpha. Maekar was proud of him. One day he would present as an alpha too, and then he would resemble his brother in every way. He could hardly wait.

But then things began to happen that Maekar did not like quite so much. Baelor still spent time with him, but noticeably less. He had more responsibilities now. One of them was choosing a wife.

Early each morning, Maekar would watch from his window as carriages arrived at the castle from all corners of the realm. From that distance, he could not make out the family crests clearly.

Later, in the corridors, he would encounter beautiful young ladies and their parents. One lovelier than the next. He greeted them politely, but they would merely glance at him and pass by without a word. Some even scoffed at the sight of him, as if thinking, how dare this child address us?

Maekar often asked himself why everyone was so cruel to him. Perhaps it was because of the pox scars that marred his face. If that was truly the case, he could only hope that one day he would find someone who would not mind them.

After about two weeks, the carriages full of noble families disappeared. In the mornings, the courtyard was filled only with birdsong, occasionally interrupted by the loud calls of guards. The corridors were no longer lined with elegant ladies and their families, only hurried servants rushing from one task to another.

That could mean only one thing: Baelor had chosen his future queen.

Maekar tried to ignore the unpleasant sting in his chest.

When he asked Baelor about his chosen bride, his older brother only smiled.

“Are you always this curious?” he said, ruffling Maekar’s short-cropped hair and ushering him toward bed. Then he sat beside him and opened the book Maekar had chosen for that evening.

Not another word was spoken about his future wife.

Nor was she mentioned a year later. Not even three years later.

Baelor was still unmarried, even at an age when most men already had at least two children.

Maekar was glad of it. He could keep his older brother near him at all times, and now that he was old enough, he could even travel with him. Whenever Baelor had to leave King’s Landing for his duties, he took Maekar along. Their father did not particularly approve, but he never stopped them. He likely knew Maekar would find a way to follow Baelor regardless.

Everyone knew the two of them were like twins, always together.

But such stories do not always have happy endings. And this was one of those cases.

For Maekar’s eighteenth birthday, his father hosted a grand celebration. Not that Maekar was displeased, but it meant sitting beside his father all evening, listening as guests came to offer their congratulations. Occasionally someone invited him to dance, but that too would end quickly, and he would return to his seat beside the king.

Only one sip of red wine remained in his cup. Maekar had never had a particularly fond relationship with alcohol, but tonight practically begged him to get drunk.

His father was engaged in constant discussions with noble lords approaching the table, while Maekar watched with a bored expression as the other guests enjoyed the festivities. He could not endure this sober.

“Your Highness,”

The address drew his attention to a boy standing across from him. He was tall and rather lean, with black curly hair framing his round face. Maekar guessed he was around the same age as him.

He straightened and nodded for the boy to continue.

“It is an immense honor to visit you today and join in the celebration of your birth-”

Maekar stopped listening. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement across the room. Baelor stood by the open doors, deep in discussion with someone. His hands gestured animatedly, as though explaining something.

Maekar watched him for a moment. His hair was, as always, perfectly styled, his robe tailored precisely o for him. Even from such a distance, Maekar could tell his brother delighted in instructing others.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pang of regret that he had to sit here at the table instead of simply standing up and walking away. Of course he would go straight to his brother, but no one needed to know that.

He turned his gaze back to the boy still speaking. He seemed not to care that Maekar was not listening.

Baelor’s presence never failed to unsettle him.

This time, Maekar tried to focus. He tried to force his mind to function properly, but it was useless. His eyes followed the boy’s lips, yet no sound reached his ears, as if he had submerged his head underwater and heard everything from afar.

Baelor’s presence demanded all his attention.

He nodded slightly to pretend he was listening. A lie. Baelor always said one must not lie. A man must be honorable, must always speak the truth, even if it hurts.

His fingers tightened around the armrests of his chair. His gaze darted around the room. Why is it so hot in here all of a sudden?

When his eyes finally found Baelor again, his racing pulse steadied. Yet something deep within him still churned, rising toward the surface. He could not name it. A strange feeling.

Baelor was still speaking. Maekar could not hear him over the noise in the hall, but his lips moved continuously. His hands, however, had stilled.

When Maekar’s gaze dropped to them, his pupils widened slightly. Baelor was no longer explaining anything, his hands were doing something far more interesting. Maekar could not look away.

His brother was idly playing with his rings, slowly twisting one around his finger.

Seven save me.

His fingers. They are so long. And slender. What would they look like wrapped around my neck, adorned with all those rings? Denying me breath.

His breath caught in his throat. He struggled to draw air into his lungs. The heat.

Why can’t I breathe?

His fucking fingers. I want them in me, want them in my mouth. Want to lick them, bite them.

A quiet whimper escaped him.

He immediately realized what he had done. No one around him seemed to notice, no one was looking his way, except the boy who was still speaking.

Lord, why was he still talking?

Baelor. Alpha.

An urge surged within him to run to his brother. Of course he did not, but it took tremendous effort. He would not make a scene at his own celebration. People would whisper that he was weird. A child unable to endure a moment without his older brother’s attention. He did not need more rumors.

Heat flooded him. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his cheeks burned. His vision blurred for a moment.

When his violet eyes found Baelor again, something was wrong. He felt uneasy. Baelor had gone still. His shoulders tensed, his hands dropped to his sides.

Maekar knew he would turn at any moment. He would notice his younger brother’s gaze. He would realize what was going through Maekar’s mind and never speak to him again.

That could not happen.

He could lose everyone, but not Baelor. Even if there was never anything more between them than brotherhood, Maekar needed him at his side. He needed him like air. He could not let Baelor drift away.

So he quickly tore his gaze from him and looked back at the boy in front of him. The boy regarded him questioningly.

“Prince Maekar-”

Now he felt more eyes upon him. Heads throughout the hall began turning toward him. He heard a few sharp intakes of breath. He had no idea what was happening.

“I apologize, I must have missed the question,” Maekar said with a small smile. He tried to sound polite, but it came out strained.

He was growing hotter by the second. His palms, still gripping the chair, were slick with sweat. His vision blurred in and out. And he still did not understand why nearly everyone was staring at him.

And the unbearable cramps in his lower abdomen were driving him mad. He had tried to ignore them, but he could not any longer. His face twisted into a pained grimace.

He needed to leave. He had to return to his chambers and lie down. Perhaps he had eaten something spoiled. Perhaps the wine had been too strong.

I need Baelor.

No. Absolutely not.

“Father, I believe I have had enough for tonight,” he managed, rising carefully from his chair. His head spun slightly, forcing him to steady himself against the table’s edge.

“I shall retire to my chambers. Please, enjoy the remainder of the evening.” The words came slowly, as if his mind was failing him. He cast a quick glance around and offered a faint smile. The next moment, he had to grit his teeth to keep from collapsing beneath the table. That would have been humiliating. He truly should not have drunk so much wine.

With lips pressed tight, he hurried across the hall toward the doors, fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms.

As he passed the place where he had last seen Baelor standing, he faltered. The scent pulled at him. It reminded him of safety and warmth, fire blazing beneath a cold evening sky.

His knees nearly buckled. The scent beckoned him, he wanted to wrap himself in it.

But he could not.

He quickened his pace. The doors were within reach now. Soon he would be far from all those curious eyes. One final step and he would be in the corridor.

“Fuck,” he muttered, bracing a hand against the stone wall.

Out here, the noise from the hall was muted, only indistinct murmurs reached him. Now he simply had to reach his chambers as quickly as possible.

As he walked, people stared after him in concern. Maids paused in their tasks, wide-eyed. At times it seemed they might rush forward to help him, to steady him and guide him safely to his room, but they did nothing. They only stood at a distance, watching him anxiously, as though afraid to touch him.

The guards were much the same. When they saw him, their faces flushed, and Maekar was certain he saw a few of them take a step back.

Did he truly look that terrible? Why was everyone avoiding him?

Fortunately, he managed to reach his chambers on his own. He immediately slammed the door shut behind him and, just to be safe, locked it as well.

How was it possible that the heat lingered so relentlessly? The window was open to let fresh air flow into the room, yet that unpleasant sensation he had earlier associated with the crowded hall clung to him still. Even here, in the safety of his own chambers.

The only thing he could think about was Baelor’s scent. Fire, crackling embers, the glow of starlight, the cold autumn wind. It was driving him mad.

Baelor. Baelor. Baelor.

What is wrong with him?

On trembling legs, he made his way to the bed. He collapsed into the soft blankets, but even though they were completely cold, they could not cool him for more than ten seconds. Something was wrong with him.

Maybe if he simply went to sleep, he would wake in the morning and be himself again. Perhaps it was only some passing illness.

With difficulty, he rolled onto the middle of the bed. For a moment he simply stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the sharp, throbbing ache spreading through his lower abdomen. He tried to pay no mind to the fire coursing through his veins.

Breathing unevenly, he pushed himself upright again. Nothing helped.

Deep down, he felt that something was different, that something about him had changed, he just could not yet tell what.

He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He had to get out of these clothes.

His robe came off easily enough. The problem arose when he tried to step out of his trousers. He realized they were damp. Horror slowly dawned in his eyes as he began to understand what was happening. Why he was so unbearably hot, why he suddenly felt faint, why his brother’s scent drew him in so fiercely.

Omega. He was presenting as an omega.

Maekar let out a distressed whimper. No, this was not supposed to happen. How could he be an omega? He was meant to be an alpha, just like all his brothers.

Seven help him, he had presented in front of the court. They had all seen him. They had all been able to smell him. That was why they had looked at him so strangely. They could tell he was an omega.

Everyone would think he had presented for that young boy who had been speaking to him at the time. They would spin stories about how a prince of House Targaryen had presented as an omega in order to attract his future mate.

At least they would not know the real truth. They would not know that his presentation had begun the moment he watched, rapt, as his eldest brother played with the rings on his fingers. They would not know that in that instant he had been dreaming of those same hands wrapped around his throat and-

Maekar sighed. He had not even noticed the moment when one of his hands had slipped between his legs.

There was only one name on his tongue. Only one.

He could only hope the guards outside his chambers had not heard him moaning Baelor’s name over and over again throughout the night.

In the end, he spent far more time in his chambers than he had originally anticipated. His first heat was brutal. Wave after wave wracked his body, and all he could do was scream for his older brother. He knew only Baelor could help him. But he had to endure it alone, no one came to his aid. Only beta maids occasionally brought him plates of food and water.

A week passed, and Maekar felt much better. The heat had subsided, he could think clearly again, nothing clouded his mind anymore.

Naively, he believed everything was returning to normal. He did not yet know what awaited him once he finally stepped out of his chambers.

Everyone treated him cautiously now, as if he were a porcelain doll and they feared he might shatter into a million pieces at any moment. It infuriated him. The sidelong glances irritated him, as did the way people suddenly spoke to him more gently.

But none of that compared to how much Baelor’s behavior hurt him.

Two weeks had passed since Maekar had emerged from his chambers after his first heat. Baelor had not spoken to him once. Well, that was not entirely true,he did speak to him, but only when absolutely necessary.

Wherever Maekar went, Baelor would immediately leave the room. When Maekar asked him to train together like they used to, Baelor hastily excused himself, claiming he had duties to attend to, and hurried off, still clad in his armor. Maekar was left standing in the courtyard with a mace in his hand, watching his brother’s retreating back.

He did not understand what had happened between them.

What hurt most of all was when Baelor left for a week because of his duties and did not mention it to Maekar at all. He did not even come to say goodbye. Maekar learned of it only from a maid who brought him his meals.

He felt that something between them had shifted, and he did not like it at all.

Maybe it’s because I presented as an omega. Maybe Baelor thinks I’m weak and in constant need of care. What if my scent makes him uncomfortable, what if he can’t stand it and has to keep his distance from me?

Good Lord.

What if he heard me moaning his name and is avoiding me now to make it clear that he didn’t like me that way? What if he finds me disgusting?

After Baelor returned from his journey, Maekar tried several more times to strike up a conversation with him. It was futile. Baelor always found an excuse and withdrew immediately.

Maekar was a patient man, but even he had his limits. His brother clearly wanted nothing to do with him, and Maekar understood that he was no longer welcome in his company.

As much as it hurt, he gave Baelor space. He stopped seeking him out. He now spent all his free time in his chambers, buried in books. He no longer went to train either, lest he accidentally run into Baelor. He left his room only when absolutely necessary.

One such necessity arose three weeks later. Their father forced him to attend a family dinner. He supposedly had important news he wished to discuss with all his sons.

Though Maekar did not want to go, he had no choice.

When he entered the dining hall, he paused slightly in the doorway. He was the last to arrive, they had been waiting only for him. Their father sat at the head of the table, seemingly engrossed in conversation with Aerys at his left.

What startled him even more was that Baelor sat at his father’s right, and Rhaegel had already taken the seat beside him, leaving Maekar no option but to sit in the empty chair next to Aerys. It might have been the first time since childhood that he was not seated beside Baelor.

“Ah, Maekar finally decided to show. Very good then, we may begin.”

The entire dinner passed quietly for Maekar. He did not speak. He kept his head lowered, staring at his plate and absentmindedly pushing his food around with fork.

His father conversed with his brothers and, thankfully, left him alone, not forcing him into the discussion. He would not have known what to say anyway.

That he spent his days locked away in his chambers because Baelor refused to speak to him? Certainly not.

“Maekar.” Reluctantly, Maekar lifted his gaze and directed it toward his father. He said nothing, simply waiting for what would come next.

“The entire realm knows you presented as an omega. I have received hundreds of marriage offers, and I believe I have finally selected a suitable candidate.” The blood drained from his face. He gripped his fork tightly and swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

“I beg your pardon?” he managed hoarsely.

“You heard me well, boy. Your betrothed will arrive here next week.”

Maekar’s heart dropped into his stomach.

He glanced around. Rhaegel stared at their father in disbelief, while Aerys cast a look toward Baelor. Baelor, however, did not lift his eyes from his plate. As though he did not care. And perhaps he truly did not.

Maekar gave up. “Very well, then,” he sighed and pushed back from the table. His chair scraped loudly against the floor. Suddenly he had no appetite left. He only wanted to lie down in his bed and die. What had he done to deserve this?

“Now, if you excuse me,” he said with difficulty. He felt as though he might burst into tears at any moment, but he would not show weakness in front of his brothers, and certainly not in front of his father.

He left the room in quick strides, his heart pounding furiously.

“You cannot be serious!” he heard Rhaegel’s angry voice call out just before he turned the corner. He did not know to whom the question was directed.

With a heavy heart, he returned to his chambers. He quietly shut the door behind him and collapsed into the nearest chair. He would not cry.

So this is my life now? Father will sell me off like a piece of meat to strengthen ties with another noble house, and none of my brothers will even stand up for me. The one I thought would always stand by my side will not even look at me now because I presented as an omega, as though I were something lesser.

Perhaps I am. Just an omega, good for nothing but bearing child after child and preserving the bloodline.

A few hours later, Rhaegel found him in the same position, seated in the chair with a vacant expression. He did not even have the strength to cry. He simply sat there, staring into nothing.

“Maekar,” his brother took the empty chair beside him.

“Hm,” Maekar responded, a sound to show he was listening. He did not look at Rhaegel.

Silence lingered between them for a while. Neither of them spoke.

“What happened between you and Baelor?”

Maekar merely shook his head. Even he did not truly know what had happened. They had simply stopped speaking, such things occurred between siblings from time to time.

Rhaegel did not press him further. He watched him from the corner of his eye. Maekar did not like it, he hated drawing attention to himself. But at the moment he could not bring himself to care, his thoughts were elsewhere.

“Do you know whom father intends me to marry?” He asked quietly, almost in a whisper.

Rhaegel sighed. “It is most likely the boy you presented for,” he finally answered.

Maekar let out a distressed whimper. That was not how it had happened at all.

Rhaegel raised an eyebrow questioningly and waited patiently to see whether his brother would explain himself.

“That’s not what happened,” Maekar said at last, finally looking at him.

“Yes, I presented while that boy was standing before me, but he did not cause it. He was speaking to me, but I could not focus on him, I was thinking about something else. And then it just happened.” He continued. He needed to get it off his chest.

“And what were you thinking about?” Rhaegel asked, though he likely already knew the answer.

Maekar fell silent. His cheeks flushed a deep red.

“Whom were you thinking about?” His older brother asked again.

“I-” he was so ashamed. “I-I was thinking about Baelor,” he blurted out quickly. “I saw him standing by the door and I just-” he inhaled sharply.

“And then it happened.”

Rhaegel watched him with his lips pressed tightly together, concern written plainly across his face.

Silence settled between them once more.

Maekar fidgeted nervously with his fingers.

“I do not want to marry that boy,” he whispered.

The only answer he received, equally soft, was: “I know.”

That evening, Maekar went to bed with a heavy heart. In a week, his life would change completely. He would no longer be free, he would never again make decisions for himself. Perhaps he would never even see King’s Landing again once his betrothed took him away. Perhaps he would never speak to his brothers again.

Perhaps this was punishment for the way his thoughts so shamelessly lingered on his eldest brother. The gods were punishing him for his indecent desires.

The creak of a door pulled him from a deep sleep. He did not have the energy to open his eyes and check whether everything was all right, so he merely rolled onto his other side and tried to drift back into dreams.

Not even five seconds later, a hand clamped over his mouth. Maekar’s eyes flew open as he tried to make out who was threatening him, but in the utter darkness that filled the room, nothing could be discerned.

Then the scent hit him. A breeze sweeping across a meadow, fire blazing toward the stars. Baelor.

Maekar went completely lax. He did not want to, but his instincts practically commanded it.

In the dimness, to which his eyes had begun to adjust, he made out a single violet eye gazing down at him.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Maekar did not know how to respond. He had not heard Baelor’s voice in so long, it sounded rougher than he remembered. His body reacted to it in ways he did not wish it to.

“I came to apologize,” Baelor continued. One of his hands still rested over Maekar’s mouth. His hands were so large, it made Maekar’s head spin.

“I spoke with Rhaegel,” so that is why he is here, “he told me what you said to him today.” Maekar let out a humiliated whimper. When he saw Rhaegel again, he would have to beat him up.

“I’m so sorry, sweetling.” Baelor looked at him with anguish in his eyes. Maekar wanted to wrap his arms around him and say that everything was fine, but for now, he rather enjoyed lying beneath him.

“When you presented as an omega, I was overjoyed. But then I realized for whom you had presented.” Even in the dim light, Baelor’s eyes darkened slightly.

“That boy had everything I had always longed for.”

Maekar’s cheeks flushed red. He could only hope Baelor would not notice.

“Do you remember how you used to ask about my chosen bride when you were younger?” Maekar nodded silently.

“It was meant to be you. I begged father for your hand for so long until he finally agreed. But only on one condition, if you presented as an omega.” Maekar’s breath caught in his throat. He had no idea.

“And in the end, you did, but at what cost? You presented in front of that fool, and I was furious. It should have been me. I should have been standing in his place. I should have been the one to marry you.” Maekar hung on every word.

“But I wasn’t. I stood aside and had to watch all my dreams shatter before my eyes.” Baelor sighed and offered him a faint smile. “I tried to avoid you, not speak to you. I could not bear the thought of someone taking you from me.”

Maekar was beginning to understand. In Baelor’s place, he might have done the same.

“I thought that if I ignored you, if I ignored my feelings, they would eventually fade. I knew that if I remained in your presence, I would do something foolish.” Baelor gave a soft, humorless chuckle. “Most likely I would have bitten you, made you my mate. But I believed you had chosen someone else, and I could never forgive myself if you lost that opportunity because of me.” Maekar shook his head frantically. That was not how it had been.

Bite me now, he wanted to blurt out.

“But Rhaegel told me something interesting today.” Baelor’s expression shifted, a faint smirk tugged at his lips.

“What were you thinking about when you began to present?” He arched a brow and finally removed his hand from Maekar’s mouth. Maekar’s cheeks burned even hotter.

He did not want to answer, it was humiliating. His gaze darted around the room, anywhere but at his brother.

“Come on, sweetling, tell me.” Baelor leaned closer, his lips near Maekar’s ear. “Be a good boy.”

The sound that escaped Maekar’s mouth was far too close to a moan.

“Your fingers,” he blurted out quickly. He hoped Baelor had not heard, but at the same time, he did not wish to repeat himself.

Baelor only smiled smugly.

“You like my fingers, hm?” Maekar shifted restlessly. He was burning up.

“And where do you want them?” Maekar did not answer, he was far too ashamed.

“I think I know exactly where,” before Maekar could fully grasp what Baelor meant, two fingers brushed against his lips.

Instinctively, he parted them and allowed his brother to slide both fingers inside. Baelor’s pupils widened as Maekar ran his tongue along them.

“Fuck, sweetling,” Baelor muttered. He pulled Maekar onto his lap, bracing his back against his chest. With one hand, he tilted Maekar’s head back onto his shoulder, his palm loosely wrapped around Maekar’s throat. The fingers of his other hand remained caught between Maekar’s lips.

“Baelor-”

“I know, sweetling. Just lick them however you want.”

Maekar needed no further encouragement. For a while, it was enough, but soon he craved more. More of Baelor. Without realizing it, he began to move his hips in a slow, desperate rhythm.

Right by his ear, he heard Baelor let out a quiet groan. It pleased him, only he could bring Baelor to this state. Only him.

“Take me, alpha. Make me your omega, your wife,” he whimpered, moving more urgently now. He was so close.

“You’ll be the perfect omega for me.” Maekar nodded eagerly. “You’ll bear my children.”

“Yes-yes, please,” he scarcely knew what he was agreeing to. But he would have agreed to anything Baelor said. Anything at all, he trusted him without limit.

“Such a good boy. Make yourself feel good.”

It took only a few more thrusts before Maekar came undone. It had never happened to him before, to lose himself simply from grinding against someone.

“Fuck, so perfect,” Baelor murmured, brushing his nose along the sensitive scent glands at Maekar’s neck. The sensation made Maekar squirm helplessly in his arms.

When Baelor’s tongue traced over it, Maekar shuddered, feeling as though he might fall apart all over again.

“Bite me, alpha,” he whimpered, pressing himself back more firmly against him.

“Don’t worry, I will. You won’t leave these chambers until you bear my mark on your neck,” Baelor promised. And as he promised, so he did.

By early morning, Maekar could scarcely move. His voice was utterly spent. He could barely keep his eyes open.

On his neck rested a fresh bite mark, binding him to Baelor forever.

He could not have wished for anything better.