#beanstuff

[beanclaw]

Aqua Regia

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem! Reader

Tw: HOTD content. MDNI

[Chapter 1] Chapter 2 Chapter 3

⊹ ࣪ ˖﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ｡° ⚔︎｡°⊹ ࣪ ˖

Summary: Jacaerys Velaryon admired you even before he met you. Sometimes, when he and the other Targaryen kids get scolded, your name would pop up for comparison. Though perhaps there is some truth to the servant gossips about you being secretly cruel beneath your perfection. His heart soared when you first met, then fell splat into the ocean of obscurity that is you, when you proceeded to ignore him whenever there were no adults around to prompt you back into your facade.

Jacaerys Velaryon often joined in on teasing Aemond. Although of indisputable lineage Aemond was, in everyone's eyes, inferior for not having a dragon of his own, at least only in that aspect. Whispers of him being outdone even by the Strong bastards are not as hushed as they ought to be. Aemond would hear them, as would Jacaerys. Jace wanted to believe that he was not a bastard. He had a dragon, unlike his silver haired half-nephew Aemond (who is also older than him). But evidences showed otherwise. Scrutinizing looks, cruel jibes, and not-so-hushed whispers loomed over him larger than any dragon. If he was to name this feeling, he'd name it after Balerion, The Black Dread.

He liked to believe that he teased his dragonless nephew out of a sense of superiority, it sounded better than what he denies even in himself. He wanted to belong. Simple as that. He was not superior in any way, in fact if it weren't for his grandsire's blind devotion towards his only daughter from his first queen, they'd all be exiled, if not dead.

He'd joined Aegon in his teasing, glad whenever he wasn't on the receiving end as he usually is, walked with Helaena in the gardens, and had a silent truce in the library with Aemond as they would read on the same table at times. He liked to think that Aemond understood, that they were both outsiders in their own home. But they never really had that kind of conversation.

Only one of the Targaryen-Hightower siblings confused him so.

You were, to everyone, the most enigmatic. Your twin Helaena was dreamy and odd, but not threatening in any way. Your other siblings were easily predictable. One knows exactly what Aegon would pick up first on the dinner table, and how he treats the women around him. Everyone knows Helaena did not do well in social situations, preferring to be left alone with her books or with the company of her tiny many-legged friends. Aemond, who wanted to be seen as mysterious, was most predictable. One knows exactly how he would react with the many different ways to prod anger out of him.

Aegon did not care for Jacaerys nor his brothers, too busy guzzling wine and pinching servant girls. Helaena certainly did not mind them, Aemond avoided them, while the adults were plainly disgusted by their existence. You, Jacaerys decided, was a pretender. Ignoring Jacaerys even when your brothers would notice him when they were in a cordial mood but acting like you were intimate friends when there are adults watching.

Jacaerys remembers vividly, the first time he met you.

They were busy hacking at training dummies. Aegon would only swing his sword in a half-assed manner. Aemond trained hard enough for both of them, anyway. You’d just arrived from Oldtown after receiving your youngest brother Daeron who was sent to be cupbearer to some Hightower Lord and train for his knighthood, and also replace you. No one at this time knows why you chose not to stay at Oldtown, especially when multiple sources say that the Hightowers adored you. ‘A prime example of purity, modesty and piety. The Mother and The Maiden in human form.’ they’d say.

“She probably got bored of being worshipped.” Aemond once said as a jest, although the apparent envy laced thickly in his voice suggested to Jacaerys that he was not in a jesting mood at all. Servants say, you were secretly cruel beneath the perfect exterior of your facade, while others see this as farce. You were only a child, not a masterful, conniving, opportunist. It is said that you were bound to command respect and adoration. Elder twin sister of Helaena, just as beautiful and gentle, but with a firmness and coldness no one would want to receive from you. But not cruel, no, you were just a little girl after all, your mother’s daughter.

You welcomed your brothers in an embrace the moment you stepped out of the carriage. Jacaerys had never seen you before as he was born the same year as Daeron and by then, you were already sent to Oldtown. He did not know how to act. Should he greet you? Welcome you back home? Would it be impertinent of him, seeing that he was practically a stranger to you? What IF you knew him, knew him as the bastard who was stealing your elder brother’s birthright as the eldest son of the king? He expected you to turn your towards him with a sneer, maybe even a jab at his illegitimacy. ‘So this is the bastard I keep hearing about.’ He could almost hear you say.

He did not expect you to engulf him in a hug as well. “No one ever told me my nephew's an adorable one.” You laughed. He found you agreeable, warm. You ruffled his hair into a mess, commenting about how soft it was, a stark contrast with your own brothers greasy hair. He watched as your eyes flitted over to the balcony overlooking the training yard. You raise your hand to greet the king, then pushed apart Aegon and Aemond who were crowding you as you make your way to finally see your father up close.

Jacaerys was delighted at the prospect of befriending you. You were exactly as described. Beaming like a saint, bright and kind. Your voice was soothing, eyes the deepest shade of violet, silver and gold hair almost reaching the back of your knees.

Until he received from you not the warmth of building friendship, but complete disregard.

He went up to you in the library, no one else was around save you and him. He had his favorite book in his arms, eyes wide and looking up at you, as he asked if he could read by your side. He only wanted to spend time with you, maybe get to know you better. Mostly to hear your gentle voice coo at him again as you did in the training yard. But you did none of these things. You only looked down at him and gestured at a seat. He ignored the change of attitude at first, then he could not help but let his smile waver as you stood up the moment he set himself down comfortably beside you. You did not even look back as you left.

You weren’t completely ignoring his existence, nor were you pretending that you were not able to perceive him like your other siblings would often do until they got bored. You were simply tolerating him. He was confused. Had he done something to earn your scorn? Did your brothers convince you that he wasn't worth your time?

He could do nothing but watch in the distance as you laughed along with your brothers, roamed the garden with Helaena, and rode your dragon, your absurdly long hair dancing in the wind. The way you walked entranced him. Graceful but powerful, confident. When you talk, you needn't raise your voice for people to listen to you. You were almost always composed. The minutest movements controlled, facial expressions practiced. If he didn't know any better, he'd think that you were being trained to be queen. But he suspected no man here would ever approve of the queen carrying around a blade now would they?

Jacaerys was confused when you chose to ignore him in the library, then he was absolutely livid when you acted as if you've done no such thing in front of his own mother. When you finally finished with your rounds in the castle, done catching up with old friends, you finally strutted up to Rhaenyra's chamber and knocked upon her door.

He was sitting on the floor, chin propped on the couch where his mother sat, with his younger brother Lucerys reclining with his head on Rhaenyra's lap. They all stood to greet the princess, and Jacaerys observed as his mother showered this two-faced Targaryen with praises and kisses, saying she was glad for her safe return home.

Lucerys, ignorant to the feelings of his brother, leapt at the chance to make friends with this newcomer and you were absolutely smitten. Or at least that's what you wanted them to think. You acted as if you had not left Jacaerys humiliated and alone in the library. At first, Jacaerys chalked it up to exhaustion, or maybe you just weren't in the best of moods. But it wasn't the only time you'd looked down at him, blankly taking in his bright expression only to douse him in cold indifference. Now you greeted him like you were great friends, hugged his mother as if you did not despise her own sons, and played with his younger brother as if you truly adored him, like you wouldn't just ignore him when no one was looking.

Jacaerys learned to dislike you. He disliked you more than he did your own brothers because they at least made it clear that they did not care for him, whereas you would take time out of your day to act sweetly towards him only to walk past him down the corridors as if you were strangers.

He disliked you but he did not hate you. How could he, when you had such a nice disposition. You trained hard with your sword, commissioned by the King's Hand himself, surprisingly. And you had a dragon so graceful and pale that you could see the web of fiery veins in its wings, rivaling Aegon's Sunfyre in terms of beauty.

He could not possibly hate you, especially when he realized (after nights of serious contemplation) that you did not owe him friendship. It was natural for you to dislike him for reasons he himself acknowledges. You weren't a two-faced schemer who delighted in humiliating him, you were simply doing your duty as princess, by being polite and not stirring trouble for the grown ups. You ignored him yes, but also never even mentioned his questionable parentage. He also took note of the fact that your brothers never even teased him about it when you were around.

⚔️ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ✩ ° ｡⋆ ⚔️⚔︎⚔︎⚔️ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ✩ ° ｡⋆ ⚔️

Jacaerys absolutely despised the situation he was in. Aegon was much taller, older and stronger than him, he could not possibly win. Ser Harwin said he could, and he did not want to disappoint him.

When he caught your eye as you descended from the stairs to watch, he wished for respite, not just for this gruelling session in training, but this life in general. He wished for the ground to just swallow him up whole.

In the second round, he lunged first, hoping to surprise Aegon to maybe make him stumble, but the older boy only kicked him to the ground, then continuously showered upon him a barrage of blows so hard it knocked the sword off his hand. He knew his arms would be hurting after this. Then tensions arise as Ser Harwin Strong pulled Aegon off of him and called Ser Criston Cole out for playing favourites, for neglecting the Princess Rhaenyra’s sons in their training. Words were thrown about. Jacaerys hardly knew how to react, he only pulled Lucerys aside as it became apparent that blows were about to be exchanged instead of words. You stood, hands clasped behind your back, eyebrow raised as you seemingly judged these grown men struggling to contain a single furious man. Jacaerys heard you snicker when Ser Harwin successfully landed a blow on Ser Criston, knocking him to the ground.

Both men were dismissed, Ser Criston to get his wounds looked at, and Ser Harwin by his own father. You looked up at where King Viserys sat, shaking his head. You sighed, hesitating, before you decided to approach your older brother.

“That was quite a spectacle, brother.” You did not need to turn around in order to know that Jacaerys was glaring at you. But when you did, you found his glare directed at the ground instead of you. You walk towards him and Lucerys, the younger one smiling up at you, while the older brother only looked confused. You stood beside him, bringing your hands to his head, then to your own. “We are…almost the same height. I’m only half a head taller. Spar with me.” The last part you directed at your own brother.

Aegon scoffed, the corner of his lip raised in amused incredulity. “What are you on about, sister?”

“Ser Triston Pole was right. You had the advantage of height. I, myself, am learning how to wield a sword. I’d like to see how well I’d do with a taller opponent.”

Aegon glanced at the Velaryon brothers, then at you. “Right. Why exactly are you even allowed to carry around a blade with you?”

“Why, are you afraid to be bested by a much shorter opponent? Someone almost as short as the Velaryon prince. Sure I’m a little bit taller, but I’m also a girl. That should lessen your…whatever is making you hesitate to do to me the same thing you willingly did to a member of your family."

Aegon let out a laugh, although it held no amusement now. “First of all.” He shook his head. “There is a lot to digest in everything you’ve just said.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t have problems regarding digestion if you drank less wine.”

Aegon bristled, a visible tightening in his jaw made Jacaerys nervous.

“You are absolutely right on one thing. You are a girl. And a girl has no business running around with a sword. Might cut yourself dear sister.”

You only rolled your eyes. “Queen Visenya herself used to run around with a sword. She even drew it once and slashed King Maegor across the cheek…to teach her brother a lesson.”

Aegon groaned, and pushed Aemond aside, although the boy wasn’t in his way at all. “You asked for this.” He said.

The fight made King Viserys lean towards the balcony. One might wonder why the King did not intervene and only watched as his beloved daughter took up a wooden sword against his eldest son, but one must note that the Princess might have already established a deal in order to be allowed a sword in the first place. One must also remember that it is the king's Hand, Otto Hightower himself that had a sword commissioned for the Princess, one she can wield with ease so that she could fight to defend herself. The Maiden of The Seven personified wielding a sword.

She was the one who did as Aegon had done to Jacaerys, and did not let up until Aegon was on the ground with his sword knocked out of his reach. It wasn’t a graceful fight. It included a lot of shoving, and shouting, with fiery words spat at each other. You got hit in the chin by the hilt of his wooden sword, it failed to knock you unconscious as Aegon had hoped but it did cause you to bite your tongue. You ignored the bleeding, although it unnerved you how easily he could’ve ended the fight in one blow. This only enraged you further, and the fight ended with Aegon’s defeat.

That night, you weren’t able to attend dinner, as Maesters fussed over your wound while Aegon gorged himself on your favorite food.

Back at their mother’s chambers, while waiting for their father Laenor Velaryon, Lucerys recounted what had happened on the yard that day. Jacaerys chose to keep silent, though he couldn’t help but speak up when Lucerys said something he did not agree with.

“She did it to see if she can fight someone taller than her, not to defend us or anything of the sort.”

Lucerys grimaced at him before turning to his mother. “He’s only mad because she prefers me over him.”

Jacaerys failed to suppress an absolutely offended look as his chin retracted, his eyes wide and almost bulging. “Excuse me?”

Lucerys only shrieked in glee at the bug-eyed look his brother gave him and so he did what he thought was best to do in such a situation and threw a couch pillow at Jacaerys.

Rhanyra chuckled at her sons lively energy as she grabbed Jacaerys before he could tackle Lucerys to the ground. She had been worried sick at what was bound to happen next, now that Ser Harwin Strong had snapped. Seeing her sons smile eased the heaviness in her chest.

“Honestly I’m not surprised she did that.” She simply said, more to herself than anything.

“What do you mean, mother?” Jacaerys asked.

Rhaenyra shifted, pulling at a part of her skirt that Jacaerys had sat on. “The Princess Enigmatic. She is called as such because no one ever knows what she is thinking, even what she likes, just her favorite food and even that may not even be true. At least that is what most people in the court say, even the servants.”

“I don’t understand. How can she be enigmatic? Everyone knows she is pious, devoted to The Seven. She rides her dragon a lot, she studies the histories and philosophy with disdain although she loves to read, and that she knows how to fight. That’s not so mysterious,” Jacaerys said .

Rhaneyra laughed. “She may not be a mystery to you, my dear. With such intensive knowledge about her.” Jacaerys clamped his mouth shut as his cheeks heated up.

“You see,” She continued. “Sometimes when people cannot or chooses not to understand someone, they see that person as the one at fault. The Princess is both a Hightower and a Targaryen. A dragon that people in her life have been trying to tame with the bonds of a religion she may not even truly believe in. She is called enigmatic because she adjusts herself according to the person she needs to please. And she’s learned in quite a short time how to wrap people around her fingers and how to balance the two sides of her heritage.”

She leaned close towards Jacaerys to whisper. “No one wants to say it aloud because doing so questions her devotion to The Seven, and Alicent Hightower will not have it. But you are right. People tend to exaggerate and in this case, they did so, too much to my liking. The Princess is not that much of a mystery nor does she try to pose as one. I would know. She spent more time with me than her own mother.” This she said with a bittersweet tone. “She is a wonderful girl who only wants the best for everyone, especially her twin. She is not enigmatic, she is loving.

Jacaerys looked down, deep in his thoughts, before nodding. “I understand.”

“I am glad my son chooses to observe for himself, rather than immediately believing what a person says about another.”

There was one mystery that Jacaerys wanted to be answered most. Why does she ignore him in private? His own formulated answers, although logical did not satisfy him because he cannot confirm them himself. And he did not want to ask his mother this one because it will surely make her think too much about things and might arrive at a conclusion that is far from truth. He nodded mentally at himself. Best not give his family more fuel to tease him, Lucerys was already unbearable and he won’t be able to take more without bursting into flames.

The next day, you still were not present for breakfast. Jacaerys wondered if your injuries were much more serious than he thought. For a moment, while pinching at his bread, breaking it apart and rolling it into tiny bits, he entertained the thought of visiting you. Perhaps, in the safety and privacy of your own quarters, he'd get to see the real you. He let his mind wander, daydreaming about how he'd go about asking you if he'd done anything to offend you, or if you truly were not interested in being friends with him, he'd apologize and tell you that he won't disturb you ever again. He glanced at his younger brother, Lucerys. Perhaps he could use him as an excuse to visit you. But then he won't be able to talk to you in private. He shook his head. He won't go. You were injured, he shouldn't disturb you from your rest.

For the first time that morning he raised his head, only to find that Aegon had been looking at him inquisitively. He felt his brows furrow before he could school his expression to that of indifference.

Aegon finally approached him the moment they reached a silent hall leading to where they kept the dragons. Dark stone walls seemed to be closing in, looming over him like Aegon, whose nose flared in anger, as he glared down at Jacaerys.

“Don't think you can be so smug just because of what happened yesterday.” He grabbed Jacaerys by the collar, forcing him to take a step back.

Lucerys, huffed, and without a word scampered off, running as fast as his tiny legs could carry him.

Aegon watched him go, one eyebrow raised as he snorted. “Some brother you have. What, no honor among bastards?”

Jacaerys pushed his hands off with a grunt. “Get off me!” He exclaimed.

Aegon only laughed before stepping back.

“I don't even know what you're talking about.” Jacaerys said.

“You're lucky I did not break your jaw yesterday. Though I wish I did…running around smiling like a cocky little cunt.”

“I'm not even doing anything.” Jacaerys all but shrieked.

Aegon leaned down on him, “Well, then why would my sister, of all people, humiliate me for you? To defend you?” His voice had risen at that last part, making Jacaerys flinch.

“She did no such thing. You heard her yourself, she did it because she wanted to see—”

“See if she could take on a bigger opponent, lies, fucking lies.” Aegon waving a hand furiously around, before running it through his hair.

“Me and my sister…we fight a lot. But only when she thinks I've done something wrong to Helaena, or when I said something ‘hurtful’ to Aemond, or disobeyed mother, or the Lord Hand. But you?” He chuckled. “She had no reason to start a fight over you. You deserved that beating! And it wasn't my fault you were weak. I hate it. I hate it when she looks at me with those eyes.” he'd started to rant.

“You're making things more complicated than they actually are. It was a coincidence.” Jacaerys said, almost in a pleading way, not wanting to receive a second beating.

Aegon paused from his spiel. Then, he turned towards Jacaerys once again. “She's mad at me because of you. I knew it, you've been following her around like a lost puppy, styling yourself a poor, innocent ‘little prince’ bullied for allegations about your parentage knowing her heart would be soft towards pathetic little cunts like you. I knew you'd try to latch on to her like the pest that you are. Leeching off of anyone who showed even a sliver of kindness to you.”

Aegon was screaming now, right at Jacaerys, the unmistakable stench of alcohol wafting to the younger's face, and in his fury, he shoved Jacaerys hard against the stone walls causing the younger to cry out.

“You knew how fond she was of your mother and thought to gain her affection for yourself, you thieving little shit.”

Aegon stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet. A torrent of curses spilled from his lips before stopping abruptly. You stood, hands behind your back, face filled with utter disgust. You'd pulled the older boy off of Jacaerys without him even realizing you were there. Just how much did you hear?

Lucerys peeked at Aegon from behind you, his hands clutching at your skirt. Aegon suppressed a grimace at the sight of you shielding those two bastards from him, your own brother.

“Sister,” he exclaimed after a moment, smiling sheepishly. “I was just—” he swallowed nervously. “Doing as you said.

“Is this how a prince apologizes to a person he wronged?”

Aegon blinked, lips twitching. “You know what?” He started. “You were there yesterday, what happened was hardly my fault.”

Your glare softened. “I wasn't only referring to what happened yesterday, Aegon. But you're right. I'm going to have to discuss the matter with Ser Crispy Cone. You and I will talk later, in private. Now go, mother is looking for you.”

Aegon keeps his eyes on you without a word, before leaving. Not even sparing a glance to the younger boy he was terrorizing only moments ago.

You set your attention on Lucerys with a smile. “Thank you, Luke. For doing as I asked. Now, will you please go ahead of us and inform the maester that Jacaerys might be late for today's lesson? Just tell him the prince is with me.”

“My pleasure, princess.” Lucerys answered, too enthusiastically in Jacaerys’ opinion.

The two of you waited in silence as Lucerys’ footsteps were far enough away to be inaudible.

“My prince, you must allow me to apologize for my brother's behavior. What he has done to you is not fair. I am not talking only about yesterday, but about all of the times he hurt you.”

Jacaerys kept his eyes on the ground. “It's fine.” He said, straining to even force those words from his lips.

You approach him, slowly. “If…if he bothers you again, just tell me.”

You almost flinch as he finally looks up at you, glaring.

“Why are you still here?” He asks.

You knew why he asked such a thing, but you kept silent, sensing that he had more to say.

“No one is looking, Princess. You do not need to waste your time pretending to be cordial with me. So why, if I may ask, is the princess suddenly interested in my own affairs?”

You shook your head. “I am not ‘suddenly’ interested, I—” You caught yourself. You looked away, hesitating.

“It is understandable for you to hold contempt over me.” You said. “I've deliberately played with your feelings. I knew you wanted to be friends with me, at first. I couldn't help it, you see. Watching you become sullen everytime you are rejected is quite entertaining.”

Jacaerys took a deep breath, feeling the air he breathed fill his lungs, hoping the pressure would dull the ache in his chest as you smiled down at him. You were a sadist, he thought.

“But, really. I did it for you.”

He frowned, before giving you an incredulous look. Whatever excuse you would conjure to justify your actions, he was determined to shoot down.

“To openly express my fondness for my nephews will only give my brothers more reason to make your life a living hell. I had to ignore you and only acknowledge your presence when needed. Look at how my brother reacted when I defended you, for the first time, might I add.”

“Do not make it seem like you had no choice, you said so yourself that you found amusement in rejecting me, humiliating me.”

You paused as you listened, noticing his voice become heavy the more he bared to you with his feelings and thoughts, the direct consequences of your actions.

“What else could I have done but indulge my ego, seeing someone desire my friendship so desperately.”

“I was not desperate—”

“Like I said, prince. Indulgence. You'd be surprised at how often I decide to convince myself that I feel a certain way just to not feel disappointment at my own actions. I hurt you on purpose and you have no idea what your visible disappointment does to me. No idea that every time I have to keep myself from spoiling you with gifts and affection I die inside. And I have never, ever wanted to keep someone looking up to me as you do. Your family, I value. The way you see me, I wanted to keep pristine. I hold your whole family in high regard.” You paused, catching your breath and willing yourself to keep your voice level.

“I received so many ravens, read so many instances that my brothers gleefully reported to me, informing me of every cruel thing they did, and said to you. And when I arrived, you were nothing but a sweet, little thing. So I did my best to educate my brothers. Mother says it is not my duty to stop them from treating you and your brother the way they do but this isn't about duty. This is about family.”

You leaned down to his level to look at him straight in the eye and you knew he wanted to understand you.

“Now I know that it was a waste of effort. I should not have pretended to be indifferent when I was anything but. I will no longer play pretend with my brothers, and you. If you will let me. I am truly sorry, for treating you as I did. I was eager to be friends with you, just as I am friends with your mother. But my love for the princess Rhaenyra is…easily explained. She taught me everything I know, spent more time with me than my own mother. But to be friends with you—”

“With bastards, you mean.” Jacaerys cuts her off before he could stop himself, his emotions had loosened his tongue. A mistake one cannot truly blame a child for, even if his upbringing should have trained him in the art of rhetorics. "Allegedly,” he stammered.

“With the heirs that pushed my own brothers down the line of succession.” You clarified. Then with a shrug you added. “I care not about who gets to sit on the iron throne. I’ve no desire to worry needlessly about things I cannot control. But I still care for the people I love and I will protect them as best I can. I wish everyone cared less about it. Especially my family. My mother is convinced that Rhaenyra would immediately put us all to the sword without asking us to bend the knee to be spared. Makes me wonder if they ever were friends. But I digress.”

You paused, scanning Jacaerys’ face.

“Evidently, you are a smart boy. You see, my brothers need not be protective of Helaena, she’s rarely interested in anything other than books and bugs. They need not be protective of me either, I saw to that myself, but I know them. They’d jump at any chance to pummel you to the ground. Aegon literally nearly pummeled me to the ground when I confronted him about what he’d done to you. Granted, I all but asked for it.”

“What happened yesterday, I do not understand why you did such a thing, what point you were trying to make. Did you really just want to see how you’d do with a bigger opponent?”

You smiled as you leaned back. “Like I said back then, I wanted to teach him a lesson. I did not find it necessary for him to be so harsh to you. I mostly blame Cone, even though that may be a bit foolish of me, I still do. I'll have a talk with that man. You know, I only knew him for a couple of days and I already know he’s good at riling people up, shoving sticks up their arses so he wouldn’t be alone in being a bitter, bitter man.”

Jacaerys let out a burst of giggles, before clasping a hand on his mouth to muffle it. You laughed then, realizing that you spoke too freely.

“Forgive me, little prince. I should not have spoken so bluntly.”

“I think that was more than just blunt.” He whispered.

“Well, I won’t get in trouble if you tell no one.”

Jacaerys nodded. His earlier apprehensions vanished into thin air. “I, too, find Ser Criston Cole foul.”

You shook your head, giggling. “He is fetid, reeking of rotten self-righteousness.”

He pushed himself off the wall now, no longer shrinking into himself, eyes bright in mischief. “He is a repulsive git, a snake and a bad influence. He’s like a character in a novel where the author obviously set him up as this man that we’re supposed to root for, complete with a humble and tragic backstory, but instead just makes the readers pull out their hairs in frustration everytime he so much as opens his stinking mouth.”

You clutched at your belly, bursting into laughter. At that time. Both of you were thinking the same thing. ‘We should have done this sooner.’

Next chapter

A/N: this fic will have three chapters, each one will be abt the development of their relationship during three different phases. Currently writing the next part.

[transgenderer]

the cafeteria mostly sucks but sometimes they have like ridonkulously good soup. todays was this black bean puree and it was spicy (my friend made fun of me for being a spicy weakling, i will get stronger) but i toughed it out because i could feel my body growing stronger from the beanstuff. i think im some sort of...legume elemental. its the source of my power. lentils+beans+peanut butter is like. half of what i eat. in varying forms. that and soy

EDIT:

i totally forgot soy came from a bean! (which is very silly. ive spent hours picking soybeans) fuck. it really is legumes all the way down

[beanclaw]

Aqua Regia

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!reader

Tw: HOTD content. MDNI

Taggies: @dracaryxzs

⊹ ࣪ ˖﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ｡° ⚔︎｡°⊹ ࣪ ˖

Days passed in a blur of palpable regret. Princess Rhaenyra and her family had left Kings Landing for Dragonstone, just when you and Jacaerys had been getting along. You started to wish you'd become friends with him earlier. Now you did not even bother to deny in yourself that your days became brighter because of Jacaerys Velaryon's presence.

It was far more gratifying to just accept that you were soft for him and his brothers, come wrath and fury of your own. You'd had enough of sacrificing your happiness for Aegon's sadistic nature and Aemond's bitter resentment. You even took it upon yourself to have the Velaryon brother’s play with Helaena as well. And the baby, Joffrey was his name, was unbelievably adorable. There were times where you felt certain the baby felt irritated at your pestering.

You knew your mother, and your grandfather were not exactly happy with how close you were with princess Rhaenyra's family. But you didn't know the extent of their disapproval until now.

"The audacity, she had…to suggest a betrothal between my eldest daughter to her illegitimate son. I can almost hear cries of objection from Oldtown.” She shuddered.

“Not like I would let her taint my daughter's honour. I’m just glad they took a hint and left, since my own children can’t. What will the people think, seeing you associating with those," she paused, before lowering her voice. "With those bastards."

She raised her hand at you, keeping you from talking. "I know what you're about to say, it is treason, yes. But there's only us here. We can speak plainly about things that are glaringly undeniable."

She had been scolding all four of you, saying that Rhaenyra only had the nerve to suggest a betrothal between you and Jacaerys because of your leniency, befriending the Velaryon brothers instead of making it clear that you won't stand aside and let them take the throne. Unsurprisingly, and to your sibling's dismay, her anger was directed more to them than you.

“I don’t even know why you’re mad at us, it is her who enjoys their company.” Aegon spoke up, pointing at you. “Even dragged Helaena into it. Aemond too. I just…I mean they’re just there and I’m letting them be, leaving them alone just as my beloved sister asked me to.”

Alicent sighed. “Of course, she did. And every man at court, and maids, even knights and their squires wouldn’t bat an eyelash. They might have even expected this! It is fitting for your sister to be kind even to them. But it is unbecoming of you, the one whose birthright is being stolen.”

“I wasn’t being kind to them.” Aegon stuttered. Lies. You knew he was at least enjoying their company a little.

"There are already whispers about you— about us. That our family might be supporting Rhaenyra's claim."

"Her rightful claim, mother. If I may remind you." You added.

She turned to look at you, eyes sharp. Aegon sticks his tongue out mockingly at you as she turns her back to them.

"My dear, you are too much of a saint." She sighed.

Aegon, shaking his head in disbelief, mouthed 'What the fuck,' while Aemond only looked up as if in silent prayer.

"Sometimes, daughter. You should not take what men say, even Kings, as the one, true fact. Especially one as indecisive as your father. Your father he, how should I say this...we all love him, of course. But like most men, they have too much pride to admit when they made a mistake. Naming Rhaenyra heir just to spite his brother was a mistake. And it is our duty, to lead them to the righteous path."

You say nothing, clearly she wasn't interested in arguing further. You'd only risk losing what trust she has on you if you keep on pushing her.

"I know you feel bad for Rhaenyra's children. But daughter," she says your name, looking imploringly into your eyes. "She is only your half-sister. She might have affection for you but trust me when I say the love she holds for you is not as deep and pure as the love you hold for her."

Gently, she pushed a strand of your hair from your face. "I fear she is using you. Cleansing their reputation through you, by association. Let the people talk. Everyone knows about their sins. Everyone knows that your brother is the rightful heir.”

Aegon pushed himself off a chair, arms outstretched. “Since the people hold my sister in such a high regard, enough that her favour granted absolution to the bastards, perhaps we too, should listen to her. The Realm’s Favoured Daughter. Defender of the weak, the women and children, Protector of bastards. Listen to her and let the princess Rhaenyra sit on the throne. The Seven knows I’ve no desire for it.”

Alicent sighed, before shooting her son a blank stare. “We have already talked about this Aegon.” You knew what she meant. The things she hissed at Aegon, about how Rhaenyra will have you all killed to keep her claim unquestioned.

Aegon continued, eyes full of mirth. “The Maiden and The Mother in the flesh. Nurturing, loving even the sons of a whore.”

“Aegon!” Alicent hissed.

“See now, this is why nobody who knows you has any respect for you.” You answered.

“The Princess’ children, for such young boys, are more agreeable than you will ever be. You are a lascivious fool, foul-mouthed and vile. And I hate how you treat women. Let me remind you that every woman is an image of The Mother, to be respected, and revered. You look down upon those boys so much but they have more honour in their little finger than you have in your whole being.”

“Oh please.” Aegon scoffed, waving your words away. “Give it time, let them grow a little, puberty will do its job and show you their true colours. Seven Hells, I bet Jacaerys’s been wanking his tiny little cock to you at night,” he said, gesturing his closed fist back and forth.

Seething, you marched towards Aegon, intent on wiping the smirk off his face.

You stopped in your tracks, nails digging into the palm of your hands.

You redirected your gaze toward your mother. “Here is the rightful heir to the throne: Your eldest son whom you have been raising to be a wise, fair king.”

Aemond winced, and drew in a sharp breath while Aegon blinked at you, reeling at the absence of a blow he expected from you. Helaena sneezed. You sent your brother the most vicious glare you could muster. You will never forgive him for talking ill of Jacaerys that way. You stormed off, not waiting for your mother to gather her thoughts.

The next time you meet Jacaerys once again, was at a funeral. Laena Velaryon's to be exact. The entire royal court met with the grieving Velaryons at driftmark, forcing the two families of Alicent and Rhaenyra to have to interact with each other after Rhaenyra's departure from the Keep.

You could not look Jacaerys in the eyes.

You blamed yourself for falling short. Failing to keep the whispers back, and the disgusted stares off of him and his brothers. After the incident in the courtyard, when Ser Harwin Strong had snapped, the gossiping you worked hard to quell had resurfaced tenfold, giving Rhaenyra no choice but to leave.

You respected her for that decision. She could've stayed, hardened herself and kept her claim strong by holding her position in the small council. Instead, she prioritized the safety of her children, as any good mother would.

You still haven't gathered the courage to approach the lad during the gathering at the Cliffside of High Tide castle for the wake, choosing to observe instead.

You suspected that Jacaerys must've wanted nothing more to do with you, for he hadn't answered any of your letters. You knew it wasn't a direct consequence of your shortcoming, Jacaerys wasn't the kind of kid who would befriend someone because of their status, or what favours they could grant.

Beside you, Aegon was complaining about how he was about to end up being betrothed to either you or Helaena, while Aemond was claiming to be determined in fulfilling his duties, even if it means marrying either of

you two.

You watched from a distance as Jacaerys offered comfort to Laena Velaryon's daughters, holding one of their hands in his.

“Seriously,” Aegon said, glancing at you. “She should have just let you marry Jacaerys Velaryon.”

Looking at the sight before you, of Baela and Jacaerys’ hands, you considered the thought for the first time. You shook your head at the selfish thought. Their mother had just died.

Without a word, you left your three siblings, making your way towards the stairs leading down to the shore.

You looked around for a piece of wood, finally picking up a slightly damp one. Crouching, you felt around your boots for a dagger you've hidden there, having left your sword in your temporary quarters. You unsheathed the dagger and started whittling away. You were no artist by any means, but the act kept you from spiraling into your own sometimes irrational thinking.

Being engrossed in your work, you hadn't noticed someone approaching. You started when your name was uttered, causing your hand to slip.

You looked up, wincing at the brightness of the sky. Jacaerys stood beside you, fidgeting, unsure.

Then his eyes widened. “You're bleeding!” He exclaimed before falling to his knees. You didn't realize that you had cut yourself.

“Oh…ouch.” You sucked in a breath as he inhaled sharply, both simultaneously hissing at the wound. You caught his gaze before laughing. He snorted, failing to suppress his laughter. Then he shook his head.

“We shouldn't be laughing, we must tend to it immediately.”

“It's just a scratch, look, it already stopped bleeding.” You said before crawling towards the waves and thrusting your hand into the salty water.

He frowned, before grabbing your wrist and pulling it out of the water.

“Don't just dip your bleeding hand in there. Saltwater isn't kind to open wounds. We have to keep that cut clean and dry or else it'll fester.”

You tilted your head. “I thought seawater would clean wounds, not infect them.”

“Well, it isn't necessarily harmful, but I've heard stories about Sea Snake's voyage and about sailors whose wounds became worse when exposed to seawater.”

“Oh. Perhaps they were exposed too long. Anyways it should be fine, it's not that deep.”

“But it's my fault,” he said, his shoulders slumping.

You shook your head. “No it isn't.”

“I practically sneaked up on you.”

“No, my back was to you. Even if you'd announced your presence from way over there, I would've still made the same mistake. It was my fault for not being aware of my surroundings.”

He giggled. “We haven't seen each other in a while and the first thing we do is argue.”

“I read somewhere that lighthearted arguments are necessary for a healthy friendship.”

He gave you a sheepish smile to which you responded to with one of your own. You were glad that conversations came as easily as it did before.

“I'm glad that you are still talking to me, after everything.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I should be the one to say that to you.”

He shook his head, his soft hair bouncing at the act. “I understood what you meant, when you said you no longer wanted to associate yourself with me. I was hesitant to approach you because I knew my presence is unwelcome. It was my fault you've been endlessly berated by your mother, you have a right to be mad.”

You reeled back, scrunching up your face at what he had said. “First of all, when did I ever say that?”

“Why, in your letters.” He answered, and you couldn't stop yourself from making a noise of confusion.

“I sent letters to you. And you never responded, so I thought you were mad at me.” You said.

“What letters?” He asked. “You only sent one, wherein you told me that you've been enduring your mothers wrath to keep on being friends with me. Then you told me to stop sending you letters, which is reasonable. I should've thought about it before sending you ravens after ravens, anybody would've felt annoyed.”

“But I never wrote anything of the sort, and I received no letters from you, none at all.”

“Oh,” he said. Horrified at the thought of somebody else having read his endearments that were meant for your eyes only.

You scoffed, incredulous. Thinking about how someone had been deliberately keeping things from you, and that the maids and the knight assigned to you must've been in on it. A heavy feeling of dread settled in your chest at the thought that one of your family, if not multiple, have been intercepting letters meant for you.

Both of you were silent, only the crashing waves could be heard.

“Huh,” you said.

“Yeah…” he answered. “So you aren't mad at me at all?” He asked.

“No!” You answered. “Are you? Mad at me, I mean.”

“Why should I be?”

“I blame myself for…well now it sounds stupid but I felt partially at fault when Rhaenyra was forced to remove herself from the Keep. “

“It is not your fault, that should be obvious.”

You sighed. “I know. I was just disappointed I guess. It's not a secret that I prefer your companionship more than my own brothers. Sometimes I wish Helaena and I were….nevermind.”

He did not agree, and wasn't afraid to reject your idea.

“I'm glad that you aren't my sister, but not because I wouldn't want to be able to be with you always.” He said, quick to clarify what he meant.

“You are devoted to The Seven, and unlike Targaryens, it is a sin for pious people like you to marry brothers and sisters. Therefore if you and Helaena had been born in my family, as my sisters, you probably wouldn't even consider marrying me.”

You were surprised that he mentioned marriage. He must've noticed because he went on to explain. “Mother asked me if I wouldn't mind being married to you. She told me that it would help strengthen our claim.” He explained.

You were impressed that your half-sister discussed such matters with her young son. Most wouldn't have bothered, only thinking of what they could gain from marrying their sons and daughters off.

“Well, think about it. If I were born as your sister, perhaps I wouldn't even be as pious. Devotion to The Seven is my mother's influence on me.”

“Huh,” he said. Comically in the same manner you did earlier.

“Now that my mother rejected your mother’s suggestion, you will be marrying another. Perhaps one of Lady Laena's daughters.” You said, unintentionally probing.

He looked to the sky, pursing his lips in thought, before nodding solemnly. “Perhaps. Baela's my age.”

“Lady Laena is a good woman, I heard. A gentle, loving mother and a fierce dragonrider. No doubt her daughters are the same. She will make a fine wife, and queen in the future.”

He only stared at you for a moment, and you wondered if he heard jealousy in your voice that you weren't aware of.

“Would you like to meet her?” He asked.

When Jacaerys asked if you wished to meet Baela Targaryen, you expected him to be the one to approach first, and then actually introduce you to each other. You did not expect him to just pull you forward, in front of the kid without a word. He only gestured encouragingly, as the girl looked up at you from her place on the bench. You greeted Princess Rhaenys, who was standing to the side first.

You then refocused your gaze in Baela's teary eyes, then at Rhaena's. You told them your name and offered your condolences, to which they replied by expressing pleasure in meeting you.

“We've heard much about you, princess.” Rhaena said, but then said no more. It was her sister Baela who clarified things in her stead.

“Princess Rhaenyra often mentions you in her letters. Mother would sometimes read the letters to us, so that we may get to know the people that are part of our family, especially those closest to our age. We always hoped we may meet.”

“Not only that,” Rhaena said after swallowing thickly. This time her voice carried a little bit of cheer in it, as if eager to express congeniality. “We oft heard stories about your benevolence, how at such a young age you were told to be wise beyond your years, having virtues encouraged by The Seven. Your reputation precedes you.”

You politely, (savagely, in Jacaerys’ opinion) swatted their words away.

“Exaggerated praises. The hightower lords liked to praise me too much. I haven't done anything worthy of receiving such veneration. Although…” you paused, successfully gaining their full attention.

“Don't tell anyone I said this,” you said, although hardly making any effort to lower your voice. “They might have been doing so to make me a desirable wife as much as they can, to paint me as soft spoken, caring, motherly, and keen to obey her husband.” You leaned towards them, as did Jacaerys to be able to hear you still.

“And I played the role well. Even got a sword out of it. I'll show you later. Absolutely nobody can tell me to get rid of it. It's got my name on it and everything as proof that I had complete blessing to carry it.” You were pleased as they gasped, surreptitiously smiling at your almost rebellious words. Rhaenys herself chuckled. You figured she was pleased that you managed to distract the sisters even for a moment.

“But, if that is so, why would they let you have a sword. Isn't that a bit contradictory?” Baela asked. It was a sound question. If the Hightowers were so fooled, why would they give you something that was mostly used by men?

“Ah. Took me some time, of course. I argued that since women are encouraged to embody various virtues associated with The Seven, I also had the prerogative to embody The Warrior. Courage and strength in defending the faith and the family are valued. This applies to both men and women in defending their beliefs and loved ones. And I argued, quite incessantly. The thing about old men is that if you tire them enough with ferocious tenacity, they're much more likely to give you what you asked, so long as you asked politely while also letting them hear what they want to hear. Targaryens had no issue with their women carrying around swords but I didn't make the mistake of reminding them needlessly that I wasn't purely a Hightower. I focused on what they believed in.”

They listened attentively, looking up at you with wide eyes and nodding.

“The stories do not seem so exaggerated. Those are wise words coming from such a young lady.”

You felt conscious of Princess Rhaenys’ scrutinizing gaze. You hoped you did not cross any lines, telling your younger cousins about practically manipulating old people.

“Of course, I do not condone such dishonest behaviors and manipulative tactics.” You added.

“You know what,” you said. Thinking of distracting everyone from the things you've just said. You handed your dagger to Baela.

“I am giving this to you, because I believe that from this day forth, you need any protection you can get. Now you have a fine dagger to protect you and your loved ones and you gained it not through deception so be not afraid to keep it, to wield it. To protect your sister.”

The girl's eyes widened as you placed the dagger in her hands. She looked around before bending over to study it.

“It's so beautiful,” Rhaena exclaimed.

“But Princess, if this was a gift I cannot take it from you. Besides, it looks too expensive.”

You shrugged. “Eh, one can do as they like with the gifts they receive. My instructor gave that to me, along with other trinkets so you're fine.” You said, waving your hand once again, this time dismissively before abruptly pausing. “If it is alright of course, to Princess Rhaenys.”

The older Princess shrugged as well, her smile eased the tensions you were worried of being responsible for.

“Well then I'll leave you to it.” You clasped your hands behind your back and left them to their own devices. You prayed that they wouldn't cut themselves or else you'd feel even more guilty than you already do.

You heard his footsteps before he finally caught up to you.

“You ramble a lot.” He observed.

“I do not think I can help it. I rarely get to speak with girls my age let alone younger ones. Other than Helaena.” You answered.

“Do not worry too much. I think they like you.”

“I hope they do. And I hope the Princess does not take the things I said seriously. It was foolish of me to tell the truth, especially when the truth isn't pristine and as pure as how I am believed to be.” You halted, pivoting to face Jacaerys. “If you never hear from me again, know that I would never not send you ravens, and that the cause may be that Princess Rhaenys told my mother of the things I've done. I'll be languishing in the dungeons with only the memory of our friendship to console me.”

Jacaerys held up his hand against his lips to muffle his laughter, before looking around in guilt.

“Will you stop making me laugh? It is highly inappropriate…” He whispered.

“I am not trying to be funny.” You whispered.

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry.” Jacaerys took a deep breath, and assumed a gloomy air. You did as well, composing yourself now that you were walking past some people.

“I also wanted to apologize,” you said.

“About what?”

“I am sorry that you and your family cannot openly mourn the loss of Ser Harwin Strong. He was a good man. Fiercely loyal and devoted to protecting your family.”

He nodded, blinking rapidly as tears began to gather in his eyes.

“I feel…severely disappointed and angry. Angry that I should be expected to mourn someone I do not know instead of—of my…” his voice was shaking, and you watch as his face start to redden, his lips quivering.”

You pulled him aside, behind a tent where no one could see nor hear the two of you.

You engulfed him in a hug, steadying him as sobbed. His pale complexion shifted almost to purple as he struggled to keep quiet. You had to remind him to breathe, that it was alright to cry and so he did. His tears stained your dress, though you did not mind. You only wanted to make sure he let his feelings out instead of bottling them up inside. He sniffed, sobs racking his body for a few more seconds before he started to hiccup instead.

“Alright, now. Take a deep breath—inhale, my prince…good now hold your breath. And breathe out.”

You let him gather himself, waiting patiently until his hiccups began to subside.

“I'll go get you some water, stay here.” He shook his head and refused to let go of your wrist.

“I'm fine,” he said, sniffing.

You sighed, before sliding your hands around him to pat him in the back.

“Thank you. And sorry.” He said, pointing at a damp spot on your dress.

“It's nothing.”

“I feel a bit better now. Thank you for letting me…” he paused, looking for the right words.

“I understand, Jacaerys.” You held his gaze steadily. “I do.”

He nodded.

“Oh, wait. I forgot.” You felt around your dress, fishing out a neatly folded handkerchief.

He chuckled while you wiped his tears away.

“Could've been much more useful earlier.”

“Hey, at least it's being useful now.”

You felt his hands clasp at the fabric around your waist as you busied yourself with making him presentable again.

“There we go.” You said. You looked around to make sure no one was spying on you two. You see Aemond start to approach the grieving Baelia and Rhaena, before changing his mind and returning to his place beside Helaena.

Seeing that nobody had noticed you two were missing yet, your eyes settled back on the boy in front of you.

Jacaerys was already staring at you, quite unabashedly before catching himself. He looked down, his gaze landing on his hands that were holding on to your dress.

“Sorry, it’s just…You’re very pretty.” He muttered.

“Thank you, my prince. You’re handsome yourself.”

“Thank you,” he replied, blushing.

“Seven Hells, just kiss already.”

It was almost painful, the way you had to supress the overwhelming urge to deck the peeping idiot. You feel Jacaerys’ hold on you clothes shift to your waist instead and you almost rolled your eyes. Instead of backing off and pretending to be at least five feet apart just for show, he put you two in a more compromising position. Though you do not blame him. He was certainly more rattled than you were, judging by the way he nearly jumped, and the way his breathing picked up speed.

“Oh, it seems that you’ve already been.” Aegon continued. You pursed your lips in annoyance, while Jacaerys peeked over your shoulders to glare at the other boy.

“We’ve done no such thing,” he said.

“Right, you expect me to believe you when you look like that? Let’s see. Your cheeks are red as Caraxes, you’re panting, and teary-eyed, also not to mention you’re clinging desperately to my sister with your grubby little hands.”

Jacaerys huffed, before letting his hands fall slack at his sides.

You finally turned to face Aegon while he let out a long whistle.

“Don’t look at me like that sister. Before you go and plan my death, know that I have no desire at all to breathe another word about this…to other people at least.” He giggled. “Trust that I will be holding this over your head.” He waved goodbye at the two of you. “Now, then. I must go back to my cups. It’s getting darker and our grandfather will have a harder time looking for me in the dark.”

It was indeed getting dark, the evening slowly turning into night. Several of the courtiers were already making their way inside.

Not letting Aegon disrupt the moment, you held Jahaerys’ by the hand, gently leading him inside the castle.

That night, you woke to the sharp pain of someone's hand digging into your shoulders to rouse you.

“Wake up,” Aegon snarled.

“What do you want?” You groaned, waving away the stench of alcohol that came from him.

“Something's happened. Everyone is gathering at the main hall…a maid sent word of mother's summons. I could hear her crying all the way over here.

You sat up, hastily flinging your legs off the bed.

Aegon made a move towards Helaena.

“Do not wake her,” you said. “She's exhausted.” You pulled him away from her before practically sprinting down the hall.

You and Aegon arrived just as the Maester was finishing up with stitching Aemond's face back together. The sight of the large scar across the left side of his face made you gasp. Tears instantly filled your eyes. “Oh Aemond.” You cried, kneeling down to take a better look at the damage, almost knocking the Maester face down on the ground in your haste.

His eyebrows bunched together and his lips trembled, as you grabbed a hold of his hands, crying about how much pain he must be in.

Alicent asked about how bad the wound was and the Maester said it would heal, but the eye was lost. You wiped at your tears, whispering to Aemond that it will be alright.

You watched as Alicent stomped over to Aegon. “Where were you,” she asked, her eyes blazing.

“Me?” Aegon asked before his head jerked to the side as Alicent slapped him across the face.

You did not listen to whatever she said next. You turned to the Maester and asked if Aemond already had something for the pain.

“I'll prepare it right away, Princess.”

“I'm okay.” Aemond whispered to you, the apparent pain in his voice suggested otherwise.

Rhaenyra and Daemon arrived just moments after Princess Rhaenys and Corlys Velaryon.

When asked about what happened, all the children had started to raise their voice in their defense.

You stood up to the side right next to Aegon while Alicent took your place, screaming for justice while holding on to Aemond's hand.

“Sorry, I wasn't listening, what happened?”

Aegon leaned towards you, but wasn't able to speak at all when Aemond named him as the person who told him the “lies.”

“Me?” He whispered incredulously, horrified.

You stepped away without a word and let your father interrogate him.

You thought about going to Baela and Rhaena instead to ask them what had happened but decided against it since everyone else was speaking over each other, anyway. It was too noisy to have a proper conversation.

The mention of a blade caught your attention and your eyes flickered towards Baela, then at Jacaerys. Both were already looking at you. The former looked apologetic, the latter refused to meet your eye again.

You pursed your lips, almost sucking them in awkwardly as you try to suppress a laugh.

All feelings of irrational amusement vanished when your mother turned to Criston Mole, demanding for Luke's eye as payment.

“Now that's going too far.” You heard Aegon mutter as he sidestepped closer to you.

“How would you feel if your son lost an eye while the offender gets away without repercussions?” You ask, trying to defend your mother. But the desire to defend her vanished when she drew a dagger and resolved to mete out her justice with her own hands.

You tried to pass through men who'd drawn their own swords, but everything happened too fast and blood was already drawn.

Truthfully, you were glad it wasn't much worse. But if Alicent had accidentally slit Rhaenyra's throat, all Seven hells would break loose. You shook your head, disappointed with your mother, though you could not entirely blame her. You weren't a mother, you didn't know how it feels to see your son in such a state. Aemond was your brother, and it pained you to see him like that.

“Do not mourn for me, mother.” He said. He may have lost an eye, but he gained a dragon.

“Dragon? What?” You asked.

“He claimed Vhagar.” Aegon supplied the answer.

You were taken aback, pride filling your chest briefly before recalling the fact that Vhagar was the dragon and Laena Velaryon, therefore her daughter had the right to try and claim the dragon. Aemond must have beaten her to it. It was only natural that Rhaena hadn't claimed Vhagar, for she was still grieving.

Everyone was encouraged to retire to their beds as the matter was settled, though you knew it was not the case for your mother.

You pushed through a crowd and made your way to Rhaenyra. She nodded at you, then towards their chambers urging you to follow.

“Do not look so distressed, sister.” She said when she caught you worrying your lips while she was getting her wound stitched up. First light spilled through the curtains in the window, the sun already rising, everyone else would be getting ready to go back to the Keep.

“You will scar, but the wound will heal. Valyrian steel cuts clean.” The Maester said.

“Don't.” Rhaenyra said with a firm voice. You look up at her only to find her eyes fixed at you firmly. “You worry too much.” She gestured at your bouncing knees, a habit of yours when you are anxious. You swallowed thickly and shifted in your seat.

“I gave them the blade that was used to injure Aemond. If I hadn't, perhaps things wouldn't have escalated so much. You wouldn't have been hurt.”

“If you hadn't given them the blade, he could've seriously hurt my sons.” Rhaenyra answered. “I am sorry for what happened to your little brother. It was a tragic accident. Still, you have my gratitude.”

“He was going to hit Jacaerys with a rock.” Lucerys explained in a timid voice. He hadn't so much as looked at you when you arrived.

You tapped on the table, urging Lucerys to look at you.

“You did what you had to in order to protect your brother. You were very brave, Luke.”

The frown on his face vanished, then he nodded, offering you a hesitant smile that widened when you smiled back at him.

“I'm not sorry that what happened earlier caused Aemond to lose his eye.” Jacaerys said.

“Jace…” Rhaenyra softly admonished.

“But I am sorry for the distress it caused you,” he said, looking into your eyes.

Rhaenyra, with a raised eyebrow observed the two of you. She pursed her lips to hide her growing smile before clearing her throat to call for your attention, her gaze soft. “When I said that your brother should be questioned sharply, I did not mean it. I knew my father would never let it happen. I only wanted to…” she sighed, trailing off. You knew she only wanted to provoke Alicent, and you remember how she took it upon herself to get back at Lucerys, a child merely six years of age.

You shook your head. “We were all distressed, but my mother went too far when she drew a blade against your family and—”

“I will not have you apologizing, again, about offenses that you did not commit.” Rhaenyra cut you off.

“Time and time again, over and over even when you were younger than Luke you apologize for your mother, your brother, your grandfather. Sometimes I wish you weren't such a curious little thing, so adamant in learning about our past. Your knowledge of it has changed your opinions on the people you're supposed to trust the most. Now I ask you, never to apologize again for people who feel not a sliver of remorse for what they've done.” Her voice slightly wavered at the end, still her gaze lingered on you.

The years of harassment and intimidation her sons received for their questionable parentage, Alicent holding her higher status as queen above Rhaenyra's head, going as far as blatantly studying her son right after she gave birth, and Ser Harwin Strong's death.

You wanted to apologize for everything.

You knew the queen held resentment for Rhaenyra who gets to live her life the way she wants, love the person she wants to love, while your mother tried her best to fulfill her duties, ultimately causing her to become bitter when she does not get what she thinks she is owed for playing by the rules.

It doesn't mean that Rhaenyra's family were the only ones who were tested. Though you feel as if every bad fortune that shrouds your family, was a direct consequence of their decisions, not by design of their rivals. You knew about the underhanded tactics your grandfather and mother committed in the past, their own kin told you about it back at Oldtown. You agreed with Rhaenyra. Perhaps if you hadn't been so curious, you'd stay blissfully ignorant and therefore still fiercely loyal to your mother. But then maybe you would treat Jacaerys and his brothers the same way your siblings do, without your affection for their mother to serve as a bridge to their lives. You probably would have been ignoring them for real, at worse, you would have been harassing them as well.

The doors were pushed opened by Laenor Velaryon, stopping in his hurried tracks as he scans the injuries accumulated while he was gone to who-knows-where.

“Gods.” He exclaimed, taking in Jacaerys cuts and bruises, Lucerys’ broken nose, and Rhaenyra's wounded arm.” “Is everyone alright?”

It was the Maester who answered. “A broken nose is the worse.”

Rhaenyra dismissed the Maester. You took this as you que to leave. She called your name and held your gaze. You knew what her look meant. ‘Do not forget what I said.’

You nodded to her and made your way to the door. She then turned towards her sons

“You as well. You've already found enough trouble today.”

“Yes mother.” The two boys said.

Jacaerys grabbed a hold of your wrist the moment the door closed.

“When will you be leaving?” He asked.

You looked around, seeing servants passing by, busy preparing for the king's departure.

“Sooner than I would like.” You said.

“Don't go,” Lucerys begged, wrapping his arms around your waist. He would've buried his face against your stomach if it weren't for his broken nose. Instead he looked up at you imploringly.

“I'll be back. Sooner than you think.” You said. “I won't let them stop me. I'll do as I have always done to get what I want.”

Jacaerys’ shoulders slumped in relief.

“You aren't mad at me? At us?” He asked.

You shook your head, chuckling.

“It takes a lot for me to be mad at someone. You forget how vile my elder brother is. I'd have tons of training already. Though it is useless when it comes to you. You are nothing like them. Nothing.”

“I care for you deeply.” You rubbed circles at Lucerys’ back, while keeping your gaze on Jacaerys’.

Jacaerys engulfed you in a hug, and at that moment, you felt your heart swell with warmth. Then the door opened.

You all jerked at the sound. Rhaenyra chuckled at the sight. “I am glad to see you three are getting along so well.”

Lucerys cheered, delighted at the fact that you weren't going to cut him off for what had happened. Jacaerys was a blushing mess as his mother gave him a knowing look. You stood with your back straight, hands clasped behind your back, seemingly composed, but speechless.

You ignored your less than pleased mother as she shook her head at you before climbing into the carriage after your father.

You were waiting for the entourage to head out, with Jacaerys by your side. Lucerys wanted to see you off too, but you decided against it as things were currently too tense between your families right now and you did not want to risk him losing his eye to some vengeful git. Rhaenyra on the other hand, said she was going to see you off by the cliffside.

Your brothers and sisters were already preparing for the flight home on top of the cliff.

You had already said your goodbyes with the promise of a swift return, but Jacaerys could not help but steal another embrace from you before you made your way back to your siblings.

A/N: Reader is so team black😭🙏 forgive me, readers who are team green.

Btw, next chapter will be the longest, it will contain romantic tension since they will be of age there. So there's romance, angst, longing, war, death, smut, fluff. Or maybe the war stuff I might not include in the next chapter at all and will keep it light and focused on the love story. Hihi.