SweetSalt



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  1. Public Bookmark 25

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    I think, sometimes, of the little well behind the house. We could fit inside there, the both of us, and keep the world guessing where we are until they find our rotting knot of limbs the next summer.

    Baelor comes out later in life. But he's always known who he wants. And the lines have always been blurry, for better or worse.

    Or: The one where they go through divorce and widowhood and the other pains of life before they finally grow old together

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    29 May 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “War wounds are one thing,” their lord father says, when Baelor enters his solar leaning on Maekar’s arm, “but this... This is something else altogether.”

    Baelor cannot help but smile - his head is an ugly thing now, Jena assured him of that, but he has his sight and his hearing, and he has his wits, too. The King would not say something so pointed were it not for his relief at Baelor’s survival.

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    01 May 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 56

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    Baelor Targaryen survives the Tourney at Ashford. His survival brings to a boil the grief that had long been sequestered between the two brothers.

     

    Or, letters are exchanged.

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    Chapters:
    4/5
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    250
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    56
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    21 Apr 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    In the aftermath of Ashford, everyone lives, with varying degree of injury. In the year since, Maekar has not spoken to Baelor, has not forgiven him for choosing a stranger over blood. He has emptied Summerhall of everyone he loves and called it penance. When the king forces a marriage to seal the crack, Maekar brings nothing with him but his silence. Baelor tries anyway.

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    13 Apr 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    "The crown suits you, you know," said Ser Duncan over the cacophony, bringing Baelor back to himself. "Makes you look... you know. Kingly. Which I suppose makes sense, seeing as how you're the king now." A look of anguish crossed his face. "Oh, hells, I shouldn't be calling you 'you,' should I? It's 'Your Grace.' Please don't take—"

    Baelor resisted the urge to rest his hand against the lad's back, as one might soothe a skittish horse. "No offense was taken, ser."

    "Thank you," Ser Duncan said, then immediately amended, "thank Your Grace...ness. Seven fucks, I'm getting another drink." And he whirled away into the throng before Baelor could say a word.


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    22 Mar 2026