Chapter Text
Many years ago Maekar used to feel bad for eavesdropping on his children’s conversations. It was back when he looked at Daeron with pride and believed that Aerion is truly a wholesome child. Surely, he was blinded by a father’s love.
Well, he learned the hard way that his offspring could be blithering idiots when they didn’t try, and if he didn’t peek into their minds, they would do something stupid sooner or later. Maekar made his choice – he preferred to be feared and hated by the people he loved, rather than have their trust and watch them fall into an endless pit that he wouldn’t be able to get them out of.
But to be completely honest, he could have made the listening too much of his routine. He lingered near the doorstep, held his breath, stayed still and he did it all without really thinking about it. Yet, he felt like now he had a reasonable idea. He had to be sure, and that was it.
“Didn’t she seem worried to you when you last spoke with her?”
Aegon’s sweet voice made his father frown; not in surprise but a sort of disappointed confirmation. His youngest son spoke to his brothers and Maekar could almost imagine the boy’s concerned face when he fought for the attention of others. He probably didn’t even know that his father could recognize worry on his expression within seconds.
Only now Maekar didn’t see his face.
“I don’t speak with her. I couldn’t care less,” Aerion snapped immediately, making his oldest sibling chuckle deeply. “What?” He asked with a fierce expression, voice almost daring Daeron to say something brave.
“Nothing, just that you spend the most time with her out of all of us,” the oldest prince said nonchalantly, yet with a small grin on his face. He was clearly just using a chance to pick on his brother’s skin. “Someone might wonder what are you doing there if you don’t speak,” he mocked.
Even from the place behind a corner Maekar could hear a chair squeak announcing Aerion’s anger.
“Are you suggesting something, brother? Say it, and we will sort it like–”
“I really think something is wrong,” Aegon cut in, clearly not interested in his brothers’ brawl. “Daeron, didn’t you notice it too?”
“I think, dearest brother, that there is nothing to be worried about,” he assured, ignoring Aerion who wasn’t about to let go that easily.
“Answer me, you–”
“She could have this realm under her feet if she wanted, Egg,” Daeron assured jokingly, looking at his youngest brother. “She is fine. You shouldn’t let it bother you.”
“You really think so?”
“Truly. Y/n is a capable woman…”
“Bullshit,” Aerion hissed, annoyed by his brothers’ ignorance, “she’s just a fucking cook.”
“Shut up, Aerion!” The brothers whined in union at the same time.
Aerion’s face turning red made Daeron laugh hoarsely in this drunken way of his, but it managed to scare Egg. Instead of hiding behind his brother’s back he decided to flee at once and run from the chamber.
He jumped off his chair, but just after he went through the door his little body was stopped by a thud. He would fall back from the impact if not for the strong grip of his father. “Where are you rushing so carelessly, boy?”
“I–”
“Speak the truth.”
Aegon grimaced and looked behind his shoulder, calming down when he noticed that Aerion was busy with screaming at Daeron. “Away from my brothers,” he offered honestly.
Maekar was left with nothing to do but sigh and let him go, smoothing the clothing over his shoulders.
It was an interaction that would make any father proud of his sons, but at least Maekar’s point was proven. His children were in touch with someone who he didn’t know, and he wanted to change that as soon as possible.
It wasn’t the first time he heard about you – a woman from the kitchens that raised more attention than a servant ever should. Still, everyone was suspiciously quiet when asked which only made Maekar more cautious.
He coughed a glimpse of you once, sitting with his youngest son. You handed the boy a big cup of warm milk and held a soft conversation. Somehow Maekar found some kindness of a father in himself and didn’t enter the room, knowing it would startle Aegon.
When he overheard your name from his eldest’s mouth, he decided that he’s got enough of unconsciousness.
“Who the hell is Y/n, hm?” He asked a man who leaned over his shoulder to refill his cup with wine. The demanding tone was supposed to suggest that Maekar already knew something and the servant was left with no choice but to cave in and speak up.
A poor scheme, true, but Maekar was in a dead end anyway. It didn’t work very well.
He took a step back to not bother the prince, made big eyes and stood there like a pillar until Maekar cleared his throat suggestively. “My prince?”
“Y/n,” he repeated, no less firm. “Do you know a woman of that name?”
“I…”
He was wondering – clearly thinking too hard than Maekar would like. Too hard to believe it was genuine.
“Cat got your tongue?” He snapped. “Fuck’s sake… You’re all turning blind and mute whenever someone tries to get something coherent out of you. Get out of my sight.”
“At once, my prince.”
He heard his own sons talk about a woman from the kitchens like she was some kind of prophet, a secret presence that they all knew and guarded like it needed sacred protection. Maekar would be a liar if he said that he raised his children with great respect for servants… That’s why it was so strange.
He didn’t like it, not at all.
His bones ached reminding him he wasn’t the youngest anymore and a cruel headache tortured him ever since he left the council meeting. A tired old man, that’s how he felt, not to mention that he was also annoyed… But when he wasn’t annoyed these days?
No matter how weary and in a bad mood he was, he prioritized his children’s safety, of course. It was late in the evening when he finally found time to march into the kitchens. It was only half-true, actually. He knew that his kids always visited you after dawn, so he only thought to do the same. He wore a face worth of a battleground, not an encounter with a servant.
The fireplace crackled, and the cozy sound only made him more aware of how he missed his bed. His bed that would be empty, cold and slightly unwelcoming, just like it had been for a long time— Gods, it was not a time to think about such things.
He slipped inside unnoticed, like a shadow hiding in the dark. He set his careful eyes on you, and to his surprise the sight was nothing but ordinary. You strolled around the room, breaking the silence with a soft hum. Your long sweater swayed behind you when you moved, and Maekar couldn't help but think that you did it on purpose.
He never really cared about visiting the kitchens before, and now a look at the woman in such a place makes him feel something domestic crawl over his back. Strange, since it was nothing he knew from his everyday life.
His carefulness was back on point when he noticed that your behaviour changed. You didn’t see him, but you could sense that something shifted in the air. You flicked some flour from your hands and stopped in one place, looking at the dark corner that seemed to be staring at you.
Then you looked at the door that was open ajar and your expression changed. Maekar watched it like the greatest theater play. Your eyebrows moved, and you pouted – he knew that face from his daughters. They never failed to show it to him whenever he promised them something and couldn’t keep his word.
“My prince?” You spoke up, but Maekar didn’t move. Silence seemed to annoy you. You rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, going back to what you were doing. “Baelor, if that’s a jest…” you muttered between adding a splash of milk to a bowl and starting to mix it.
That surprised Maekar. He wanted to scoff, perhaps scold you for such boldness. Say that it was ‘his grace’ for someone like you, call you mad for thinking that the heir to the iron throne would make his way here.
Instead, he took a steady step out of the shadow. “Are you waiting for my brother?” He asked like it was offensive to him.
You turned to him immediately, but he saw no fear, just surprise.
“My prince,” you greeted him and smiled like you were caught doing something silly. “Not waiting, no. Just… Prince Baelor often shows up after attending the council. That’s why I expected to see him.”
He needed a moment to understand the words.
“Baelor shows up in the kitchens after attending the council?” Maekar repeated like a tease.
At least he didn’t sound like you were committing treason in front of his eyes anymore.
You shrugged, slightly annoyed now. “We all do get hungry, don’t we?” You offered, and Maekar’s brows raised.
Oh, he wasn’t having it. It was wrong and his children were involved… You had to be someone vicious, someone of uncertain nature. Or perhaps he only wanted to believe that because he was scared of how warm and addictive your presence felt.
“My children speak of you.”
That made you smile a bit, and even he wasn’t blind enough to think it meant something suspicious. You were somehow proud of that.
“Do they?” You asked, trying to sound like it was nothing. “They come here sometimes, but I don’t think I’m worth the bother to be mentioned.”
“They come here often, I hear,” he corrected sharply.
“You might say so, my prince.”
“Prove it.”
You stopped what you were doing and cleared your hands on your skirt again. “What?”
“What do you know about my children?”
Now you allowed yourself to frown without hiding it. He was speaking to you like you were a traitor who sold knowledge about his family, and not a maid who fed them cakes and milk just to cheer them up. A strange, suspicious man he was.
How in the seven hells did he manage to keep some of the rough charm he had in him, while he was so gruff and unapproachable. One would think such a man was incapable of being charming, and yet here he was…
“May I offer you a seat first, my prince?”
He took it without a word and nodded for you to do the same.
You cleared your throat and stared at your own hands for a while. Surprisingly, he didn’t rush you, even if you could feel his burning stare on your skin. You could feel a shiver down your spine when you finally looked up at him.
Gods, Baelor could be impressive too when he wanted, but his younger brother seemed much less enduring. You would never guess that a spark of anger and tiredness could look so good on a man.
“Dareon usually brings his own drinks and tries to make me share it with him. He prefers to hear me talk about my day, rather than dwell on his dreams, even though he mentions them all the time.”
“That idiot told you about his–?”
You failed to stop yourself before cutting in. “You would be surprised that your son has nothing of an idiot in him. And he did, though the knowledge is safe with me… even if you don’t believe me yet.”
He scoffed. “You’re not wrong that I don’t.”
“Shall I continue…?”
He nodded.
“So… Aerion always sits in silence, thinking, after ordering me to light the fireplace. He gets cold easily… He’s rather delicate for such a fierce prince, I must say.” The corners of your lips twitched up, but you managed to keep your face serious. “Daella speaks of suitors and boys that she’s fond of… She likes to watch when I cook for her. Aegon is fond of talking about books and knights. He wishes to be a squire, you know? He feels like it’s a wrongdoing that you don’t allow him to—”
It was a touchy subject for the prince, apparently.
“He can squire to his brothers,” Maekar muttered under his breath.
You knew how important it was to little Egg, so you took a deep breath and shook your head. “You know that’s not true.”
It was bold and made him clutch his teeth at first. But was it wrong? Perhaps he should think and listen… for the sake of his son.
Gods, it was like a fistful of salt thrown right in his eyes. Ever since he lost his wife he felt out of control over his kids, and here he was met with another woman who apparently knew them like a back of her hand without even trying. Without having reasons to care.
“You raised them well, if I might say, my prince. Well, maybe not…” You wished to fall under the table and never face him again after the words escaped your lips.
The air was sharp for a moment. You could hear Maekar take a breath and the silver spoons and plates around you almost clattered.
“Maybe not Aerion?” He suggested suddenly. You nodded hesitantly. “Say it.”
“Yes,” you managed to choke out, and he only lowered his head.
Just like he was hearing out a death sentence on a trial – while he was listening to a maid that he intended to question.
“And my brother?”
It was a grand matter, maybe less interesting to him, but more crucial. Sensitive, problematic even. If he was about to learn something he didn’t wish to, perhaps it was better to not ask–
“Oh… Baelor has been coming here for years,” you explained without making it sound like a big thing. “Whenever he needs a break, apparently, or seeks the point of view of a commoner.”
“He asks for your opinions?”
“Sometimes,” you admit with a shrug.
Maekar was desperately trying to fit it to what he imagined in the first place – that you were some sort of snitch… For how long could he keep clinging to this thought, though, when you were staring at him like this? Like you were a creature much greater than him, a goddess of her small, cozy, warm corner.
“So you have some influence over him,” he said stubbornly.
“That would be offending to your brother,” you pointed out immediately. “He makes his own decisions, I just give him some insight on what his subjects might think. I can promise I only speak when he directly asks for it, if it makes it easier for you, my prince.”
He hummed, deep in thought. Out of nowhere Maekar felt jealousy that his brother had been graced with such presence for a long time while he stayed oblivious. He never liked sharing with his siblings but this… Maekar wouldn’t mind handing some of you to Baelor if it meant he would have his own share as well.
“It’s not like I could deny his grace an answer. He’s Baelor Targaryen, after all.”
Was it… mockery? Did he hear right? He almost laughed out loud, and his amused expression made you smile. You were partially expecting him to scream, scolding you for being so disrespectful.
“He would talk your ears off anyway until you did what he wanted,” Maekar couldn’t help but add.
You giggled warmly, but made sure to cover your mouth and wave a hand as to signal you weren’t guilty of what you just did.
It made Maekar feel warm somewhere deep in his chest. His palms tingled, and he almost forgot about the throbbing pain in his head. How did he manage to never notice you before…?
He wasn’t much better than his brother and was stubborn in his questions too. You had to explain that you were once put on a kitchen guard as a little girl and you pretty much never left it. You prepared new ideas for meals and looked over the main cooks. “Well, you can say I’m the boss here,” you said with a laugh. “I wouldn’t have to get my hands dirty if I didn’t wish to. I don’t like working with others, so I just make orders and control.”
“You surely earned your place,” he marked.
“Oh, trust me, my prince, I did. No one was getting beaten by the previous master as badly as me,” you said like it was a reason to be proud.
“Is that so?” One could think he was bored with it, but he was actually trying to imagine how the little hierarchy worked down here.
“Aye. She once threw a hot pan at me from the other side of the kitchen. I could be… thirteen, maybe. I can still hear the clatter.” You rolled your eyes when he smiled a bit too brightly. “It’s a stupid story, but Daella loves hearing it… I have to make it more interesting every time she demands to hear it.”
Gods, even his sweet daughter had a thing for cruelty. She probably had it from him anyway…
Then he spoke up about a matter that kept bothering him in the back of his mind. “My son said–” he stopped, trying to answer the question of why he cared in his thoughts. He couldn’t. “My son said that you were worried recently.”
“Excuse me?” You tapped the table nervously.
“You heard what I said.”
“You mean Aegon, don’t you?” You asked, trying to fake a smile. “He’s a good boy…”
“He is,” Maekar agreed, not letting you redirect the conversation the way you wanted. “So what troubles you?”
You brushed your hand over your face and Maekar started paying attention to the signs of tiredness on your skin. You were undeniably a beautiful woman, a true beauty that somehow was only sharpened by the darkness of the kitchens. Other women would rot here, turn into dust or old crones, while you glowed.
“Ahh, it’s just… Simple life in King’s Landing isn’t the most cheerful one, that’s it. I–I’m flattered that you ask, though, my prince.”
He hummed, completely unconvinced.
“You know what is the punishment for lying to a member of a royal family?”
That only made you smile. “I don’t, because I never did.”
“Till now,” he argued, and you finally saw what his children meant when they complained to you about him.
“I told no lies,” you said firmly. “Just meant to spare you the boring details. I’m in a… conflict with some guards.”
“Do I really have to force you to speak or will you finally–”
“Oh, alright, fine, I’m speaking,” you shushed him and stood up. With your arms crossed over your chest you looked at the prince of the crown, sitting in your humble kitchen, demanding that you rant to him about your problems. “I support the local orphanage whenever I can, and those bastards sensed some easy coin. They steal the food I provide for the children and sell it. Only recently they turned brave and started coming directly to me, demanding that I hand them all the supplies I have.”
“And what have you told them?”
“Like, literally?” His annoyed face was enough of an answer. “To go fuck themselves, excuse the language.”
He knew for less than a few hours, and he already felt pride because of your behaviour. “Good girl.”
You stood there frozen for a moment, but eventually you had to take another breath. “I was proud of myself too, but… Yeah, I won’t repeat the things they threatened me to do. And I know for a fact that they will be back.”
Maekar stood up with a rustle of his clothes. He was a tall, strong figure that made the room seem smaller. Almost like the guards you feared now so much, but refused to admit. He brought care with him, though – you scolded yourself for being stupid and believing it, but he truly did. When he stood there and stared at you with interest in his cunning eyes you really wanted to think he wouldn’t let anyone harm you.
Especially when one of the candles shed some light on his face, and you could see the well hidden anger.
“They won’t be,” he said like it was already a solved case. He sent you one last look before making his way to the door. “You have my word, kitchen keeper.”
“Did you know that your beloved Y/n was being harassed by some fuckers right under your nose?” He snapped at his brother the next day, after thinking about it for probably too little. He was a hasty man, what could he do? “And you did nothing.”
Baelor stopped in his tracks and stared at Maekar with an unreadable expression. “Brother?” He asked, his voice almost seeming small under the crush of the other prince’s anger.
“Nothing, Baelor,” he hissed, not really wanting to hear explanations that Baelor probably didn’t wish to offer anyway. “I sorted it out myself.”
It was a bit of a boast – even Maekar had to admit it. But didn’t Baelor owe him that? Why wouldn’t he have his own five minutes now, if his brother had years with you? It was a stupid manly need to argue about the care that he could provide.
“You clearly accuse me of something,” Baelor pointed out, but Maekar didn’t listen anymore.
He probably was – of using the company of someone as lovely as you, while Maekar was left out.
He only calmed down later that day when he sat opposite you, staring at a plate. Despite the dish looking amazing and the smell making him salivating, he made sure to grimace a little.
“What is it?” He asked skeptically.
“Oh, don’t complain. Your children like it and you shall too.”