The Prince - Chapter Ten
A/N: Hello! I apologize that this is late, I meant to post last night but then I facetimed by bestie for 4 hours and got drunk. ANYWAYS, I present to you the final chapter of The Prince. Thank you so much for all your love and support on this story! I hope you enjoy this finale <3
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Synopsis: Finally, we see the end of Jace and the reader's story.
Warnings: smut
Previous Chapter
Rhaenyra is understandably furious when Jace comes to see her the next morning. He had not wanted to leave you for long, so all he told her was a quick summary of the events in your room. She had wanted to rage, had wanted to know exactly everything that happened, wanted to see the proof for herself, but when he asked to postpone the meeting, she read the look in his eyes. It was fear. It was fading, but it was still there. Fear for you, fear for himself, fear that everything he had wanted was slipping through his fingers.
So she had let him leave, let him go to you, as long as he promised to find her first thing in the morning. Her rage had not abated in the night.
“If I could kill him again, I would,” she says, looking at the, thankfully, light bruising along his neck. Jace pulls back from her, not wanting the attention the bruises now gave him.
“Did you send word to the Iron Islands?” he asks.
“I sent a raven last night to his brother, the Lord Blacktyde."
“What does this mean for our standing?” he asks. Last night, besides his thoughts of dread that he almost lost you, he was also plagued by what the realm would think. Their position was still so new, to have an attack on his life so soon—
“The only thing the realm will know is that Lord Blacktyde attacked Y/N and the two of you fought him off,” Rhaenyra says.
“The two of us," Jace says softly. He brings his eyes to his mother's. She watches him delicately, like he might break with just a touch. "I'm fine, Mother," he says. She nods.
"I know."
"It looks worse than it is," he says. He wishes he could pull the collar of his doublet up, just to block them from her sight, and yours. Your eyes had been on the bruises all night long. "What of Y/N and I?” he asks. Rhaenyra smiles, her earlier rage ebbing away.
“Y/N saved your life, do you think I would deny her anything?”
“I was not sure,” he says, his smile spreading.
“I think it’s clear the two of you would do anything to stay together. I won’t get in the way. Before last evening, I had a few doubts, but after what Y/N did for you, and speaking with Baela, I trust this is the right decision."
"Baela?" he asks, furrowing his brow. "What did she say?"
“She seems excited about finding a new prospect,” she says. "Or a few."
"She does."
"You both have found happiness, and that is all I've ever wanted."
“Thank you,” Jace says, taking his mother’s hand with a smile. He feels more at ease, knowing that the events of last night only solidified your love.
The cool air of the gardens heals some of the pain inside of you. Of course, your hand still throbs after the maester had to redo your stitches. You are sore all over and have an angry bruise on your cheekbone, but amongst the flowers and the breeze, you feel light. The nightmare you lived in for years is over.
It doesn't feel real. Even after you went to your chambers this morning, looking down at the wet area the maids had scrubbed clean of Barun's blood, you still felt like you were dreaming. That you'd wake up and he would be waiting for you still.
You had woken up a few times in the night, startled from the dreams playing in your head. Jace had been there. His voice was still strained, but he said soothing words and held you close. He was the reason you could believe that it was over, that it would get easier.
He sent word for you to meet him in the gardens, but as you lap around the outer edge again, you still don’t see him. When you stop, its by the door you skipped out of months ago, to hide from your date.
Smiling, you realize where Jace is. You walk to the alcove with the fountain, the place where Jace first confessed his feelings for you. He is pacing beside the fountain when you walk up.
"Are you hiding from me?" you ask, jostling him from his thoughts.
"Never from you," he says, wrapping an arm around your waist. He left early in the morning, and he hadn't seen you until now. His eyes flit to the bruise along your cheek. It seems to only be getting darker as the day progresses.
"Jace," you say gently. His thumb brushes over the mark.
"He didn't suffer enough."
"It doesn't matter," you say with a shake of your head. "He's gone, and he does not deserve our remembrance." Against your better judgement, you look to the bruises along Jace's neck. Yours is darker, but his take up too much space on his beautiful neck.
"Y/N," he says, seeing the sadness in your eyes.
"I'm sorry, Jace. He never should have even come close to you."
"You never have to apologize for what happened."
"He hurt you."
"He hurt you, too," he says, a hand to your chin so your eyes meet his brown ones. "If this is the mark I must bear, so that he is out of your life, I'll wear them with pride."
"I don't deserve you," you say, a hand to his chest, your eyes starting to water.
"Of course you do," he says. You lean in to kiss his jawline once, twice. Jace is smiling softly when your lips meet his. The hand on your back tightens, holding you flush to him. When you pull back, Jace has a strange look on his face.
"What is it?" you ask.
"Do you remember the first time we came here?"
"Of course."
"You almost kissed me," he says, a shy smile growing on his face.
"That was a recurring pattern in our history, yes," you say. "But seems like we're past that." He smiles as he leans in again, his hand fisting in your hair, kissing your lips. He deepens it, backing you up until your legs rest against the fountain.
"Jace," you say, breaking away as he continues to kiss your face. You laugh when you say his name again. He breaks away, the smile still on his face.
"Sorry, just being back here reminds me of the last time, how much I wanted to kiss you back then," he says. "Sometimes, I can't believe this is real, that you love me back." You are smiling softly as you take his hand and kiss it gently.
"I know what you mean," you say. "It doesn't seem real. It's easier when I wake up next to you. Then I have the proof I'm not dreaming. I don't want to return to my chambers tonight."
"You don't have to," he says, squeezing your hand.
"It's not just the room," you say, "It's not being with you."
"I know, which is why I'm moving you into my chambers permanently."
"Jace, the message that would send--"
"What's wrong with a woman sharing the same room as her husband?" he asks. Confusion passes over your face for a moment, but quickly changes to amazement.
"What?" you choke out, the building emotions keeping you from saying much else. You need him to say it clearly, though.
"My mother has assured me that her blessing still stands. We can marry."
"Truly?" you ask.
"Yes," he says, pulling you close. "Doesn't this make you happy?" He studies your face.
"Oh, it absolutely terrifies me," you say with a laugh. "But it also makes me incredibly happy." He beams at you.
"You have nothing to be afraid of. Not when I'm at your side."
"I love you," you say, a hand to his face.
"I love you."
When he kisses you again, your arms wrap around his neck, and neither of you break away for a long while.
The wedding has been pushed until the bride and groom no longer have bruises marring their skin. The decision was also made that your wedding would be a private event. Although there would soon be a time when you would have to face the realm as princess, you want to stay in your bubble with Jace for as long as possible.
It's a lovely bubble to be in, too. To wake up next to him every morning, to learn more about him, to get to bask in his love and not hide away; you don't take it for granted for a second.
However, as the wedding approaches, the bubble gets closer to popping. You will only have five days of officially being his wife before you have to be presented as his princess.
Jace tries to keep your mind off of it, tries to keep you in the bubble. Still though, your anxious thoughts cloud your happiness.
Laying in bed now, you stare at the ceiling, imagining everything that can go wrong.
"What if they don't like me?" you ask aloud. Jace pushes out of the folds of your dress, wiping at his mouth.
“Why wouldn’t they like you?” he asks on a pant.
“Because I’m not what they expected, because our betrothal came out of nowhere.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“To the realm, it will appear so.”
“Y/N,” Jace say with a sigh, his hand tracing a soft pattern on your ankle. “They are going to love you because you will make a great queen. You are kind, smart, and not afraid to fight for the future of the realm.” He kisses your thigh and smiles. “Not to mention, you are so gods-damn beautiful, just a glance at you will have them bending the knee.”
“You exaggerate,” you say.
"I do not."
"You do," you say, "But I love you, still."
“I love you,” he says. “Now please, stop worrying and let me focus on what I was doing.”
“Yes, My Prince,” you say with a smile. You lay back as Jace’s lips meet your center, and this time, you let his mouth distract you from your worries.
Jace has never been happier. Watching you dance with his brother, he can't help the smile on his face. He hasn't been able to all day. From the moment he awoke, to when he finally saw you in your wedding dress, to the celebration now: his smile never fades.
The moment the song ends, he moves towards you, taking you from Joffrey's arms.
"Oh, hello," you say with a grin, falling into step with him.
"Hello," he says with a matching one.
"Joff and I barely finished our dance," you say.
"I didn't want to be apart from you any longer."
"Well I can understand that," you say. He kisses your lips easily.
"I'm so glad I can do that in front of everyone now."
"Me too."
"How does it feel?" he asks.
"Still so strange. Like I'm in the wrong shoes," you say. He shakes his head at you.
"There's something I've wanted to tell you," he says, "And I'm sorry it's on our wedding night, but I need you to know." You look at him nervously. "You've always been worthy. You didn't have to kill Barun and save me, you just had to be you."
You are silent for a moment, tears watering in your eyes. Your fingers are in his curls, playing carefully with them.
"I love you," you say.
"I love you."
"Brigitta," Jace says, his voice sensuously soft. "You are not needed for the night. I can help the princess undress." You look at him through the mirror in your bedroom, a sudden chill racing over your shoulders.
"Very well, Your Highnesses."
Jace doesn't even wait until she's left to come up behind you. His hand snakes around your waist, pressing his body into yours. He makes a sound low in his throat.
"I don't know if I will ever get used to that," you say, leaning your head back on his shoulder. He kisses your neck softly.
"Used to what?" he asks against your skin. His hands trail over your body, like it's the first time they've ever touched you.
"Being called princess," you say breathlessly. Jace's mouth closes on your neck, sucking gently.
"Why?" he asks. His hands move up to cup your breasts. He seems set on distracting you from speaking. He kneads them softly, eliciting a soft moan from you.
"Because I am not--"
"If you say anything about not being worthy," he says, breathless as he continues to feel your body, biting at your earlobe. "I will stop touching you."
"You can't comfort your new bride?" you ask, squirming against his body, the growing pressure there.
"I will do a lot to her," he whispers gruffly in your ear, "But pity her I will not." You grab at his hands, holding him still.
"Jace."
"Fucking look at you, Y/N," he says, meeting your gaze in the mirror. "You were meant to wear these clothes, this crown, this ring." He emphasizes his statement by squeezing your left hand.
"I was meant to wear this dress?" you ask. Jace grins.
"Not for much longer." His hand is gentle as it brushes your hair over your shoulder. Carefully, he pulls at the laces along your back. He moves agonizingly slow. Each time his fingers touch your bare skin, you shudder, until you are covered in goosebumps. Jace laughs against your skin.
"I love you," he says simply, then he lets your dress drop. "Princess."
"Jace," you start, but he cuts you off by turning you around, facing him.
"You better get used to it," he says. "There's no backing out now."
"I don't intend to."
"Good," he says, closing the gap between the two of you. He moves slowly, like he did your first night together. A hand in your hair, he explores your mouth easily. Your hands are on his chest, fiddling with the clasp of his cape. When it falls, it clatters to the ground. Jace pulls back from you with a soft laugh.
"Thank you, Princess."
"Stop that," you say, pulling him in for a quick kiss.
"Not until you're used to it," he says firmly. You loosen the ties at his side and he quickly tosses his doublet aside.
"This one, too," you say, a finger to the loose shirt he wears underneath.
"Yes, Princess," he says with a smirk. "I like when you tell me what to do." His shirt lands in a pile with your dress. His hand cups your cheek as he smiles at you, at your annoyance.
"I'm used to it now," you say, wrapping your arms around him. "You can stop now."
"It is so enjoyable though, Pri--" Your lips meet his, cutting him off. You want none of his slowness tonight. He can taste your need as your tongue slips into his mouth. He hums, bracing a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. The bed seems leagues away as he guides you towards it.
"Y/N," he says in breathless awe, watching your body as you sit on the bed. "You're my wife, my princess." A look passes over his face you know all too well.
"I know," you say, sitting up on your knees, so you are level with him once more. "Now, get up here and fuck your wife." He wraps warm hands around your waist. He speaks against your lips.
"My Princess." He crashes down on top of you, kissing you fiercely. You groan into his mouth, partially because of what he's doing, and partially because of what he called you.
He breaks for breath first, his mouth pink and smiling as he looks down at you. His arms bracket your face. You lean to the side and softly kiss his left hand.
"What is it?" you ask when he keeps looking at you.
"I can't decide between taking my time with you, or taking you roughly." He laughs at the whimper you make. "Slow it is."
"Jace," you say, gasping as his lips meet yours. He bites at your lower lip, eliciting another sound from you. His mouth moves down the length of your neck, leaving slow kisses in his wake.
He says your name, calls you princess, and tells you how beautiful you are, the entire way down your body. He stops at your hip, smirking at the face you pull.
"Y/N," he says lowly, smiling when your body jerks as he slide a fingers a finger through the wet warmth between your legs.
"Yes, My Prince?" you ask. He laughs.
"See, it's not so strange," he says. He adds another finger, both of them deliciously close to your clit, but never fully touching it.
"You were born into the name," you say breathlessly.
"So what?" His fingers slide inside of you. You moan, reaching for him. He holds your hand with his other.. You grip his hand as he pumps slowly. He kisses your inner thigh, slowly, slowly, moving his mouth to your center.
"Jace," you whine.
"Yes?"
"I--" His thumb finally grazes over your clit and you cry out.
"Tell me what you need, Princess." You roll your eyes, but it only makes him work his fingers harder. "Tell me."
"I need your mouth or your cock," you pant. Jace doesn't respond. The moment the words are out of your mouth, his is on your center. His touch is everything you want, and your body thrusts into him. You have devolved to a string of moans, swears, and gasps.
"You taste so good, Princess," he says against your skin. You can't even be annoyed, because when he's between your legs, whispering sweet nothings, it doesn't sound so strange.
"Jace," you cry out, when finally, the building pressure breaks in waves of pleasure. He rides you through it as always, a smile on his face when his fingers slide out of you. He moves up to your lips, kissing them sloppily.
"I'm never going to get tired of hearing my name on your lips," he says.
"I should just go back to calling you My Prince," you say. Your hand moves down to his trousers, working him through the fabric. His eyes flutter at your touch, and his intake of breath is near intoxicating.
"It means something entirely different now," he says, kicking his trousers off. When you touch him, the sound he makes has you smiling.
"You are My Prince," you say, kissing his lips slowly. Jace moans into your mouth.
"I need to be inside of you now," he says. You smile, nodding your head as you kiss him. You release your hand from his cock and he groans.
"So needy," you say, shifting on the bed, pushing him back until his back is against the headboard.
"Can you blame me, Princess?" he asks. You are shaking your head as you straddle his lap. Jace's hands are still greedy, grabbing at you anywhere they can touch. When you align his cock with your folds, his eyes are blown wide, filled with lust and love.
"I love you," you say.
"I love y--" He breathes in sharply as you slip him inside of you. He moans your name, and pulls your chest to his.
"Princess," he says breathlessly as you rock against him. Your arms are around his neck, giving him a view of your annoyed look.
"Stop with that," you say. He grips your hips, moving your body on his.
"I can't."
"I call you Jace, why can't you do the same?" You gasp when he shifts his angle slightly.
"Because you're finally my princess," he says, his breathing growing heavier.
"It's irksome," you say. His lips smile against your neck.
"I'm sorry, princess."
"Jace," you groan, grinding into him until he does, too.
"Let me do it, just tonight," he pants, "I want you to hear how beautiful it sounds." You don't respond, you just grab his face and kiss him. He holds your hips and drives your body against his. You are both quickly approaching your release, and Jace continues to moan 'Princess' into your ear. Per his request, you don't fight him on it. The more he says it, the less it seems ill-suited.
When he finally loses control and finishes inside of you, though, it is your name on his lips.
For a few moments, you are both silent, the room filled with only your breaths. You climb off of him, lying down at his side.
"So?" he asks.
"I could get used to it, I think. But only from your lips."
"That's a start," he says, leaning down to kiss you.
You stand along the balcony surrounding the ballroom, looking down at the throngs of people. The sight is beautiful. Ladies' ballgowns sparkle in the candlelight. Raucous laughter fills the room as wine is passed around.
The fact that all of this is for you feels incredibly wrong.
Just six days ago you were a title-less woman from the Vale, awaiting for you a life of nursemaiding, or marriage to a brute. It feels strange that now, you have what you have always dreamed about. What every young girl has dreamed about once in their life. You were married to a handsome prince. You were a princess. The rest of your life would be nothing but luxuries, and the juxtaposition is still jarring.
And somewhere, still inside of you, you felt as though you don't deserve it. That the life that had been laid out for you was the one you deserved. Your husband said otherwise, but in quiet moments like this, you feel out of place, like you don’t belong.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in red?”
You startle at Jace’s voice. He walks to your side, laughing softly. He is dressed in his finest, as well. The doublet he wears clings to his chest in ways that have you thinking about leaving the party altogether.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says. He leans up against the banister rail, surveying the crowd with you for a quiet moment.
“What are you doing up here, Y/N?” he asks.
“Just making a plan of attack,” you say with a smirk, resting your hand on the railing. The wedding ring on your finger sparkles in the light.
“They’re going to absolutely love you.”
“Untrue. Do you know how many of these men I left in the garden or lied to about a cousin needing my help?” you ask. Jace laughs, shaking his head.
“I think they’ll get over it. Besides, you’ll be queen one day. Whatever bad feelings they may have about you, they’ll put them aside to earn your favor,” he says. Your jaw tightens, reality washing over you that this is to be your life now.
“Y/N,” Jace says, standing upright and taking your hands. He turns over the right palm, looking at the scar there. He frowns and rubs it softly with his own thumb. “You are one of the strongest people I know. You can handle anything this court wields at you.”
“I’m not so sure,” you say quietly.
“I am,” he says. “I’m your husband now, Y/N, you should trust me.”
“I do,” you say, stepping closer to him slightly, meeting his eyes.
“Then trust when I say you’ve got this. And,” he says, squeezing your hand softly, “If we do hate it, we can always return to Dragonstone.”
“I don’t want to run,” you say, glancing out at the crowd. “Just hide.” Jace laughs.
“They’re going to love you, just as much as I do,” he says. He puts a hand to your cheek, making you look into his brown eyes. “In that dress, how could they not?” he asks. You are smiling when he leans in to kiss you.
His hand trails down your back, squeezing your backside playfully. You laugh into his kiss, opening it up with your tongue. Jace backs the two of you out of the light, up against a pillar in the shadow. His mouth claims yours, his hands greedy on your body.
“And just think,” he says, breaking away breathlessly, “If the party gets unbearable, we can always sneak off to do this.”
“Why go to the party at all?” you ask, pulling him back to your mouth with a hand in his curls. He laughs, but you know he won’t let the two of you stay like this for long.
“Come on,” he says when he pulls away. “I want to show off my princess.”
He leads you downstairs, just outside the banquet hall. For another few minutes, you keep him occupied with your lips on his, but then he breaks off.
"I'll announce you in a few minutes," he says, squeezing your hand.
"Dragonstone is always an option?" you ask. He smiles.
"Yes, but you won't need it."
"I love you," you say.
"I love you," he says. You cling to his words, gaining courage from them. He slips into the low murmurs of the crowd, leaving you alone. You hope he will be quick, because you aren't sure how long your courage will hold.
"Your Highness." The voice startles you, and when you turn to see Baela, your heart beat doesn't slow. "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to scare you."
"No, no, that's quite alright."
"What are you doing out here?" she asks with a smile. You haven't seen her since the wedding, and before then it was only in passing, or in large groups.
"Jace is going to formally present me," you say. Baela looks at you strangely.
"You're not used to it yet, are you? The title?"
"Not at all," you say with a laugh. Baela does, too, and it makes you relax a little.
"It'll take some time," she says sagely. You nod.
For a moment, it looks like she might leave, but you will hate yourself if you don't say what you must.
"Baela, Your Highness," you say, "We haven't talked very much since everything changed."
"Y/N," she says, smiling as she steps closer. "I want to talk to you, too."
"You do?"
"I know we haven't gotten to know each other, even before . . . everything happened," she says. You look down at your feet. "But I want you to know I'm happy for you. You make Jace so happy. I couldn't ask for anything better."
"Thank you," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "And I just have to say I'm sorry, for taking this from you." She gives you an easy smile.
"Do not worry for me," she says. "This change has given me a freedom I didn't know I could ever have. You have given me that."
"I'm glad for it. And glad for you," you say. "Jace is lucky to call you a friend."
"Thank you, Your Highness. Good luck, tonight. It will go quickly, I think."
"I hope so," you say. She gives you a smile as she enters the ballroom, too.
You stand still for a few minutes, a weight lifted off your shoulders you thought might never be. Knowing that Baela holds no anger for you, makes you believe that the rest might come easily, too.
When a guard waves you towards the door, you are ready. Your husband is on the other side, your family is on the other side. When the doors open and you hear Jace's voice, you let out a sigh of relief.
“Please allow me to introduce my bride, Princess Y/N Velaryon.”
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GRRM really created so many parallels and foreshadow using the DoD characters that honestly we could just figure the asoiaf ending by analyzing it. My favorite is the Aegon III-D@ny parallels, the fact that one of his closest allies was a face-scarred Master of coin Lannister who ended as Hand to Bran' parallel character just make it so obvious its funny.
Oh my god I didn’t even realise Tyland Lannister was initially on the greens’ side! I’m not super fond of Tyrion ending up as Hand, but you’re right that it’s so obviously meant to reference him. There’s so many parallels that it’s a little crazy. I don’t want to say that the second Dance will end exactly as the first did, it’d be a little too neat if history repeated entirely, but you can see so many echoes of it even in the show’s bastardised ending.
“The broken, shattered realm suffered for a while yet, but the Dance of the Dragons was done. Now what awaited the realm was the False Dawn, the Hour of the Wolf, the rule of the regents, and the Broken King.”
(TWOIAF, Aegon II)
I’m not sure what the False Dawn is going to parallel to, it refers to the period of time after Aegon II’s death but before Lord Stark got to King’s Landing, when people thought that peace had finally come. It kind of brings to mind the War for the Dawn, though personally I think that the threat of the Others will be resolved before the Dance is over. The Hour of the Wolf is obviously about House Stark’s rise back to power, and the Broken King is Bran - though if he actually becomes known as Bran the Broken I might end up committing violence ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.
The parts about Lord Corlys Velaryon are why I’m so hopeful that Jon’s book ending will be completely different from the show’s. He’s arrested for Aegon II’s death by Cregan Stark, even though Cregan had previously declared for Rhaenyra, because as TWOIAF puts it, “to kill a cruel and unjust king in lawful battle was one thing. But foul murder, and the use of poison, was a betrayal against the very gods who had anointed him.”
Corlys didn’t deny his guilt, and expressed no regret. “What I did, I did for the good of the realm. I would do the same again. The madness had to end.”
Cregan Stark declared him to be guilty of murder, regicide, and high treason, and he was sentenced to execution. But many spoke in his defence, even people who had fought against him in the Dance. Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, Corlys’ granddaughters and Aegon III’s half-sisters, convinced Aegon to issue an edict pardoning Lord Velaryon, which Alysanne Blackwood then convinced Cregan to let stand. Lord Velaryon was pardoned and even restored to his offices and honours, made one of the king’s regents and given a place on the small council.
Corlys’ words definitely could be Jon’s as well, a much more in-character declaration post-D@ny’s death than the drivel GoT tried to feed us. I was worried for a bit that this would be how Tyrion is let off scot-free, but Baela and Rhaena, who were vital to his release, are such obvious Arya and Sansa stand-ins, and they’re certainly not going to expend any effort in helping Tyrion. So Corlys’ circumstances more likely lays the groundwork for how Jon will be freed and remain in political power, while Tyland frankly inexplicably becoming Aegon III’s Hand after he was in favour of brutally killing him parallels Tyrion managing to fail up, as a way of reconciling the old regime with the new one.
This makes Tyrion becoming Hand more palatable IMO. Either Jon and Tyrion both should have been punished or neither should have been punished, not the travesty where Tyrion gets everything he’s ever wanted while Jon is exiled to a Watch with no purpose and a Wall that’s already half-collapsed, so what exactly can it protect against? I suppose they were afraid of seemingly rewarding Jon for killing d@ny, especially if pol!Jon had been revealed, but most people noticed how nonsensical his ending was, and it just led to ‘Bloodraven/Bran is the real villain’ takes anyway.
(Side note: Asha/Yara basically still being loyal to D at the end annoys me so much, and made no sense. Jon did more to help save her by giving Theon that pep talk than D@ny did. Maybe it was a leftover from her taking Victarion’s role in the story, but in no reasonable world is anyone going to listen to the Ironborn who brought the Fire threat over in the first place.)
Of course Tyland Lannister isn’t actually Hand for long, given that he dies barely two years later from Winter Fever, feared and hated, alone except for a maester and King Aegon. It might be an indication that Tyrion will face a similar fate, that he’ll die after he’s seemingly won, exactly what he threatened Cersei with:
“A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid."
(ACOK, Tyrion XII)
So that I can stop talking about Tyrion, here’s some facts about Rhaena and Baela that are obviously meant to reference Sansa and Arya, so much so that it feels a little bit like GRRM is winking and going “See what I did there? Huh? Huh? Did you see??”:
- their descriptions: “Rhaena was slender and graceful; Baela was lean and quick; Rhaena loved to dance; Baela lived to ride...” + “Baela was wild and willful”, “more boyish than ladylike”, and kept her hair cropped short as a boy’s
- Rhaena spent most of the Dance in the Vale, where she lived in relative comfort as the ward of Lady Jeyne Arryn. Baela was a dragonrider and so moved between Dragonstone and Driftmark, but was captured on Dragonstone when Aegon II descended upon it
- Rhaena was favoured to be queen after her brother, considered more qualified than her wild sister
- Baela liked to spend time with “unsuitable companions” she would bring to the Red Keep - including a comely juggler, a blacksmith’s apprentice whose muscles she admired (!!!), a legless beggar, a pair of twin girls from a brothel, an entire troupe of mummers once
- After her brother’s regents tried to marry her to a lord 40 years older than her, Baela escaped the Red Keep by climbing out of a window, trading clothes with a washerwoman, then walking right out of the front gate. She ran away to Driftmark and married her supposed cousin (though more likely he was her half-uncle), the legitimised bastard Alyn Velaryon, which might have had me worried about j0nrya if Alyn weren’t best known for being a daring sailor who went on many voyages, including sailing the Sunset Sea, until he was finally lost at sea during Aegon IV’s reign. Alyn’s mother was also called Mouse, for being “small, quick, and always underfoot.”
- another fun fact about Alyn: he’s a bad haggler, and had to agree to a high ransom and many concessions in order to get Prince Viserys returned to Westeros. This automatically disqualifies him as a Jon stand-in, because as we all know, Jon Snow can haggle like the best of fishwives.
- My absolutely favourite detail that has my jonsa heart singing - Rhaena was more dutiful than her sister and would have married a man that the king and council chose, saying that as long as he was “kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him.” She was able to marry her first choice, whom the regents didn’t immediately approve of but that they ultimately accepted - Ser Corwyn Corbray, the brother of the Lord Protector of the Realm, a second son (!) whose late father had gifted him the Valyrian steel sword Lady Forlorn (!!!)
And as a treat for @istumpysk, some similarities between Rickon and Viserys II!
- the youngest child of their family
- separated from their older brother after they were forced to flee their home, trying to get to safety while their other brothers and mother were at war
- worshipped their oldest (half-)brothers, but were closer to the brother nearest their age
- spends the war stuck on an island, populated by people closely linked to their family’s origins - Skagosi are descended mostly from the First Men, while Viserys was on Lys, where the blood of Old Valyria still runs strong
- sought by/held hostage by a powerful and wealthy family, who will treat them well but whose intentions are dubious
- will be brought back from exile by an upjumped bastard/commoner from a port town who was raised to lordship and became their monarch’s chief admiral
- after they are returned, long after the wars and crises, is happily welcomed as the heir to their older brother’s throne (shhhhh just let me have this, let the baby live)
Thanks for the ask!
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