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Twilight greeted Duncan in the morning as Maegor’s loud, demanding cries filled the air
Dunk rubbed his face.
“He’s not hungry. You already fed him today, actually, you fed him all night.”
“Quiet. Of course he is. And I only fed him because it was the only way to keep him quiet.” Beside him was Aerion, sitting on the bed with his back propped against a pile of pillows, the pup in his arms. He opened his robe, and the little one eagerly latched onto the omega’s chest, falling silent. “See?”
Wet nurses were out of the question for Aerion, not when he could nurse his pup himself. And Dunk would have agreed with the omega, if that thought of Aerion’s hadn’t come paired with the belief that Maegor needed no one but him.
If he had held the baby three times since he was born, that was a record.
“He’s sleepy. He’s just eating out of compulsion,” Duncan said gently. “I’m saying that because I’m the same way.”
Dunk remembered how he had stuffed himself with food at his wedding. Far too nervous at the idea that in the span of a single week he had gone from knight errant to the prince’s husband.
He ate until he felt a knot in his throat. The result, obviously, had not been the best.
“Well, Maegor is different,” the omega insisted, but the moment the chubby baby let out his first hiccup, he lifted him as quickly as he could.
The result was the same as that night, Dunk was faced with déjà vu. Maegor vomited, soaking the sheets and his parents.
Aerion was the first to close his eyes and sigh as the shrill cries returned.
A bath was prepared for the three of them after the mess Maegor had made. Aerion held Maegor in his arms, watching the maids change the sheets.
The prince was wrapped in a crimson robe, the pup bundled in towels, still crying. They smelled of lavender and chamomile, lavender to mask the awful scent of baby vomit, and chamomile as a desperate attempt to give Maegor’s own lungs a break.
Duncan finished checking his locks and put on clean clothes.
“Let me dress him.” Dunk raised his hands to take the pup.
“You? Who looks like a clumsy ox trying to put on a pair of trousers? Please.”
With the sheets changed, Aerion laid the pup on the bed, dressed him, and gathered him back into his arms.
Dunk could see it in the prince’s eyes, in the deep circles beneath them. Maegor was a large pup and, consequently, heavy. It was even more evident that he was a big baby when he was in Aerion’s arms.
There was still the ache in his lower back. Aerion never told him outright, but he never denied it either. Dunk had noticed the discomfort when the prince was pregnant, the way his hand would slide to his back, stroking it in search of relief. Since Maegor’s birth, it had become a habit for the prince to rest his hand there, especially when he was holding the pup.
Above all, the night had not been good for any of the three of them, and he knew the prince’s patience had a limit, like a goblet on the verge of overflowing, which made Dunk realize he needed to act.
Aerion finished his fifth full lap around the enormous bedchamber, he sat down on the edge of the bed, sliding the crying pup from his hip into his lap.
“You’ve been fed, bathed, you’re not dirty.” The prince held the pup in front of him, running a hand through straw-colored hair, his gaze fixed on those large pairs of bluish eyes.
Maegor answered with louder screams.
“I–I don’t understand. What’s wrong with you?” Anxious, the omega touched the pup’s forehead. “It’s not a fever.”
“He’s sleepy. Give him to me.” Aerion slapped the alpha’s hand away.
“If he were tired, he would’ve slept already. I’ve walked all over this room, I rocked him the entire night and nothing!” Aerion pinched the bridge of his own nose. “Just stop, stop crying!” he shouted.
Maegor did not yield.
“By the seven hells. Call the maester. Now!” Aerion shouted to one of the maids still in the room.
“No. You’re dismissed,” Dunk ordered. Aerion stared at him in horror.
“You cannot dismiss my servants.”
“Give him to me, my prince. Trust me. You need to trust me before stuffing him with herbs and baths. Please, don’t make him more stressed than he already is.”
“I already said no.” Aerion tightened his hold on the pup. “If he didn’t calm down with me, why would he calm down with you?”
“Because he’s my son too!” Dunk snapped, quickly realizing his tone had not been the best. The omega hid the pup against the curve of his face. “You’ve been nervous all night. You barely slept, you think I don’t see it? You’re in a foul mood, shaking him like a rattle. The boy will never calm down like that!”
Aerion said nothing.
“I won’t give him to you.”
With a sigh of surrender, Dunk sat beside him.
“Yes. You will.” He held out his hands once more. “And I’m not going anywhere. You can be sure of that. I’ll hold him right here beside you.”
Aerion pulled Maegor away from his neck. The little one’s face was red, covered in mucus and tears. The pup was handed to Dunk, still letting out small grunts, whimpering softly.
Immediately, emptiness washed over Aerion, the absence of the pup’s weight in his arms turned into guilt.
“It’s all right. He’s here,” Dunk reassured him, taking Aerion’s hand and guiding it to the pup.
Dunk gave Maegor gentle pats. The baby rested his head on his shoulder, seeking comfort in the scent of his other father. He looked small in the alpha’s large arms and, above all, comfortable.
Unexpectedly, Maegor fell silent. It was a miracle. Though he was not yet asleep, his eyelids were heavy, and every few minutes he rubbed his little eyes.
By the time breakfast arrived, Maegor had fallen asleep, and Dunk noticed the baby wasn’t the only one. Aerion had drifted off as well, his body leaning against Dunk’s shoulder, one hand firmly holding Maegor’s tiny foot.
The maid watched him with amusement, while Dunk wondered how he was supposed to drink his coffee with both arms occupied.
He let out a long yawn that made Aerion cling to him tighter, wrapping his feet around Dunk’s thigh. Breakfast would have to wait.