Creative Brain Dump

“You’re just standing there. Come closer,” he says, leaning back in his chair, the pen tapping lightly against his desk.

You clear your throat and walk forward, placing the documents in front of him. “These need your signature, Mr. Velaryon. And I wanted to remind you that you have a meeting with Mr. Stark after lunch.”

Jace doesn’t even glance at the papers. Instead, his eyes remain fixed on you. His lips curl into something that almost resembles amusement. “You’re so formal with me, always calling me ‘Mr. Velaryon’ like I’m some old man. Call me Jace.”

You hesitate. You’ve always kept a professional boundary with him—he was your boss, after all. But there was something in the way he said it, a silent challenge in his voice.

“I prefer to keep things professional,” you reply evenly.

Jace chuckles, a deep sound that makes the air in the room feel warmer. “Of course you do.” He finally picks up the documents but doesn’t look away from you as he flips through them. “And yet, you always follow me with those eyes of yours. Always so careful, so precise. You remember every little thing about my schedule, don’t you?”

You straighten your posture. “That’s my job.”

“Is it?” He signs the first document, his voice quieter now, as if testing you. “Or do you enjoy taking care of me?”

Your breath hitches. There’s a teasing edge to his tone, but something more lurks beneath it. Something darker. Possessive.

“I take care of all my tasks, including keeping track of your schedule,” you answer, keeping your voice steady.

Jace hums thoughtfully. “I wonder if Cregan will notice it too.”

You blink. “Notice what?”

“That you’re always looking after me.”

You frown, feeling a little off balance. “Cregan is a professional—he wouldn’t think anything of it.”

Jace smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re right. He’s a professional.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk, his fingers loosely clasped together. “But I don’t like the idea of you spending too much time texting him.”

You stare at him, caught between disbelief and confusion. “He’s your business partner, Jace.”

His jaw tightens slightly at the way you say his name, as if he’s been waiting to hear it from your lips.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, signing the last document before pushing them back toward you. “But I don’t like sharing.”

The air in the room feels heavy.

You quickly gather the documents, trying to ignore the way your fingers tremble slightly. “I’ll file these and confirm your meeting with Mr. Stark.”

You turn to leave, but before you reach the door, his voice stops you.

“Wait.”

You pause, your fingers hovering over the door handle.

Jace’s voice is softer now, almost too gentle. “Make sure to have lunch before the meeting.”

You glance back at him. His expression has shifted, the sharp intensity replaced by something else. Something that almost looks like concern.

“I always do,” you say cautiously.

His lips curve into something unreadable. “Good.”

You step out of the office, closing the door behind you, your heart pounding just a little too fast. You tell yourself it’s nothing. That Jace is just protective of his employees, maybe even a little possessive over his company.

But deep down, you know better.

This isn’t about work.

This is about you.

You barely have time to take a deep breath before the intercom on your desk buzzes.

“Come back in,” Jace’s voice commands through the speaker.

You sigh, smoothing out your skirt before heading back into his office. The moment you step inside, you find him already watching you, his dark brown eyes sharp and unreadable. He’s leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin, his expression unreadable but focused—on you.

“You called, Mr. Velaryon?” you ask, keeping your tone professional. His lips twitch slightly at the formal address, but he doesn’t comment on it this time. Instead, he gestures toward the empty chair in front of his desk. “Sit.”

You hesitate, but ultimately obey, lowering yourself into the seat. “Is there something else you need?”

Jace tilts his head slightly, studying you. “Why are you working as a secretary?”

You blink at him, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says smoothly, his voice as rich as velvet. “You’re beautiful. Too beautiful to be stuck behind a desk all day. You could be a model, you know. Probably one of the highest-paid ones.”

You shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze. “I appreciate the compliment, but I enjoy my work here.”

His eyes darken slightly, as if dissatisfied with your answer. “You enjoy sitting in an office, dealing with meetings, schedules, and paperwork when you could be on magazine covers, walking runways?”

You nod. “Yes, I do. And honestly, looks aren’t everything. I prefer a stable career.”

Jace hums thoughtfully, drumming his fingers against the desk. “Stable career, huh? And yet, you work for me.”

There’s something in his tone—something dangerous, teasing, like he knows a secret you don’t.

“Yes,” you reply carefully, unsure where he’s going with this.

His smirk widens slightly before he stands, adjusting the cuffs of his crisp white shirt. “Come with me. We’re having lunch together before the meeting with Cregan.”

You frown. “Together?”

“That’s what I said.” He steps around the desk, standing beside you now. “You need to eat. I don’t want you passing out in the middle of a meeting.”

You look up at him, your heartbeat picking up. “I always eat before meetings.”

“Good,” he murmurs, leaning down just slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “Then eat with me.”

There’s no room for argument in his voice. You sigh, realizing there’s no point in refusing. “Fine.”

His smirk softens, his hand briefly brushing against the back of your chair before he straightens. “Good girl."

A strange shiver runs down your spine at his words, but you quickly push it aside, rising to your feet.

“Let’s go,” he says, placing a hand on the small of your back as he guides you toward the door. The touch is light, but possessive, lingering just long enough to make you aware of it.

As you walk out with him, you can’t help but wonder— Is he always this persistent, or is it just with you?

You step into the private dining room of the upscale restaurant, following Jace closely. The air inside is warm, filled with the rich aroma of expensive wine and perfectly cooked steak. But what catches your attention immediately is the man already seated at the table.

Cregan Stark.

You suppress a groan, cursing under your breath. Of course, he’s here.

Jace and Cregan exchange wide grins before pulling each other into a brief, brotherly embrace, followed by a firm handshake. It’s obvious they aren’t just business partners—they’re close friends.

Jace’s hand remains on Cregan’s shoulder for a moment. “It’s been too long, old friend.”

Cregan chuckles. “You’re the one who’s been too busy playing the big boss.” He leans back in his chair, his sharp gray eyes flicking to you with curiosity. “And you must be the famous secretary.”

You press your lips together, offering a polite nod. “I don’t know about famous, but yes.”

Cregan smirks. “Jace talks about you all the time.”

Your brows shoot up slightly, and you glance at Jace, who only smiles, completely unfazed.

“Take a seat,” Jace says smoothly, gesturing toward the chair beside him.

You hesitate for a split second before sitting down. Jace follows, settling into his seat, but his attention isn’t on the menu or Cregan—it’s on you.

“You didn’t seem happy to see Cregan,” he observes, tilting his head slightly.

You shoot him a look. “I was just… surprised.”

Jace smirks knowingly. “Surprised enough to curse under your breath?”

Cregan laughs, sipping his wine. “You didn’t tell me she had such a sharp tongue, Jace.”

Jace leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming lazily against the table. “She’s full of surprises.”

You clear your throat, quickly grabbing the menu to distract yourself. You can feel Jace’s gaze lingering on you, studying every small movement you make.

“So, how’s the company treating you?” Cregan asks, his tone casual.

“It’s been good,” you reply. “Busy, but I enjoy the work.”

Cregan hums, giving Jace a teasing look. “I bet Jace makes it interesting.”

“Very,” you murmur before realizing what you just said.

Cregan bursts out laughing, and Jace arches a brow, his smirk deepening. “Oh? How so?”

You shake your head. “Never mind.”

Jace doesn’t push further, but the look in his eyes tells you he won’t forget your slip-up anytime soon.

The waiter arrives, taking your orders, and the conversation flows smoothly—mostly between Jace and Cregan, discussing business deals, upcoming projects, and mutual acquaintances. You listen silently, sipping your drink, but you can feel Jace’s presence next to you, his arm resting on the back of your chair, close but not quite touching.

Then, Cregan turns the conversation toward you.

“So, how did you end up working for Jace?” he asks, swirling his wine glass.

You straighten slightly. “I applied, went through the hiring process, and got the job.”

Cregan chuckles. “I meant, why this job? You’re stunning—you could’ve been a model, an actress, anything. Why be a secretary?”

Jace makes a noise of agreement. “I’ve asked her the same thing.”

You sigh. “Because I wanted something stable. Something I could rely on.”

Cregan nods slowly, but his gaze flickers to Jace, and something unspoken passes between them.

Jace smirks, taking a sip of his drink. “She’s very dedicated.”

Cregan raises a brow. “Or maybe you just don’t want to let her go.”

The atmosphere shifts slightly, tension slipping in like an unseen force. You glance at Jace, waiting for his response, but he only smiles—a slow, knowing curve of his lips.

“I don’t let go of things that are mine,” he says simply.

Your breath catches. Cregan whistles, clearly entertained. “Possessive, aren’t you?”

Jace shrugs, completely unbothered. “I take care of what’s important to me.”

The words linger, heavy and unmistakable.

You should say something, push back, remind him that you’re his employee—not his possession. But as Jace lifts his glass, his dark gaze locking onto yours over the rim, you realize something.

He’s not just playing around.

He means every word.

The conversation between Jace and Cregan flows effortlessly, their voices weaving through discussions about business, past deals, and memories from years ago. They talk about old college days, mutual acquaintances, and upcoming investments, their laughter filling the private dining room as the scent of fine wine and expensive food lingers in the air.

Everything seems normal—until you feel it.

A warm hand, firm yet gentle, sliding over yours under the table.

Your breath catches in your throat.

Jace.

His fingers move slowly, tracing over your skin in a way that’s almost absentminded, yet far too deliberate to be a mistake. His thumb runs along the back of your hand, smoothing over your knuckles before lightly squeezing. It’s possessive. Unspoken. A quiet claim.

You sit frozen, unsure of how to react. Your gaze flickers toward him, but he’s still talking to Cregan, his expression calm, completely unbothered—like he isn’t currently stroking your hand beneath the table while discussing stock market trends.

You swallow, your pulse quickening.

Does Cregan notice?

You glance at him, but he’s too focused on Jace’s words, nodding along as they discuss an upcoming merger.

Jace laughs at something Cregan says, his voice rich and smooth, his body language entirely at ease. But his hand doesn’t leave yours.

If anything, his grip tightens.

You shift slightly, trying to pull back, but Jace doesn’t let go. His fingers tighten just enough to warn you before he finally acknowledges your reaction—by gently rubbing slow, teasing circles against the inside of your wrist with his thumb.

Your skin burns where he touches you.

Still, you don’t say anything. You can’t.

Not with Cregan sitting right there.

“You’ve changed,” Cregan suddenly says, narrowing his gray eyes at Jace. “Not that it’s a bad thing, but you seem… different.”

Jace smirks, finally lifting his glass to take a slow sip of wine. “Do I?”

Cregan hums. “More settled, maybe. Focused.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as Jace shifts slightly, his fingers lacing through yours beneath the table, fully intertwining your hands now. He holds you there, his grip firm, as if daring you to pull away.

Your throat feels dry.

“Maybe I’ve just found something worth focusing on,” Jace murmurs, his voice smooth as silk.

Your breath catches.

Cregan raises a brow. “Sounds serious.”

Jace chuckles. “I don’t take important things lightly.”

Your fingers twitch involuntarily against his, and Jace responds immediately—his grip loosening just enough to let you know he’s aware of your discomfort. But he doesn’t let go.

Instead, he turns slightly toward you, finally giving you his full attention.

“You’re quiet,” he muses, tilting his head. “Something on your mind?”

Your lips part, but no words come out.

How could you possibly respond when he’s looking at you like that? Like he already knows the answer. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Cregan watches the exchange with interest, his gaze flickering between the two of you.

“You know,” he muses, swirling his wine, “I’ve never seen you act this way with anyone before, Jace.”

Jace smirks, his fingers still tangled with yours beneath the table. “That’s because no one else has ever mattered.”

The air shifts, heavy with something unspoken.

You don’t know whether to pull away or lean in.

All you know is that Jace isn’t letting you go.

The private dining room is filled with the rich scent of food and fine wine, and for the past hour, Jace and Cregan have been effortlessly lost in conversation. They talk about business, investments, old friends—things you barely pay attention to because your mind is elsewhere.

Because of him.

Because of the way Jace’s hand is still wrapped around yours beneath the table.

His fingers are warm, strong, and utterly possessive as they intertwine with yours. The touch should feel casual—like nothing at all—but it doesn’t. It feels deliberate. It feels dangerous.

And he’s completely unbothered, still talking to Cregan as if he isn’t currently holding onto you like he owns you.

You sit frozen, heart pounding in your chest. Should you pull away? Would that make things worse?

But before you can decide, your phone vibrates on the table, the screen lighting up with an incoming call.

The name on the screen makes your stomach drop.

Your Boyfriend.

Shit.

The vibration is loud in the otherwise quiet room, instantly drawing both Jace and Cregan’s attention. You feel Jace’s grip on your hand tighten slightly before you instinctively pull away, slipping your fingers free from his grasp. The loss of contact is immediate, leaving behind a strange coldness on your skin.

Jace leans back in his chair, his jaw tightening as he glances at your phone. His once-relaxed expression is unreadable now, his dark eyes focused on the screen with something… dangerous lingering beneath the surface.

“Need to take that?” Cregan asks casually, sipping his wine.

You clear your throat, forcing a small, polite smile. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Standing up quickly, you grab your phone and step a few feet away before answering.

“Hey,” you greet, keeping your voice low.

“Hey, baby,” your boyfriend’s voice comes through the line, cheerful and warm. “I’m outside your office. Thought I’d surprise you and take you out for lunch.”

You close your eyes briefly, exhaling. “I—” You hesitate, glancing back at the table. Jace is still watching you, his expression unreadable.

You force yourself to focus. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t. I’m in the middle of a meeting with my boss right now.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line. “Oh,” your boyfriend says, disappointment lacing his voice. “I thought we could at least grab something quick.”

“I really can’t,” you say gently. “It’s an important meeting. I’m sorry.”

There’s another pause before he sighs. “Alright. Rain check?”

“Of course,” you assure him, feeling a small pang of guilt. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

You hesitate for half a second before murmuring, “Love you too.” Then you hang up.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before turning back toward the table.

Cregan is smirking. “Boyfriend?”

Jace doesn’t react at first. He simply picks up his glass and takes a slow sip of wine, his expression completely blank.

“He’s my fiancé.”

Silence.

Jace and Cregan both stare at you, their reactions completely different. Cregan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise before his lips curl into an amused smirk, but Jace… Jace’s expression darkens instantly.

You glance between them, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I’ve been engaged for about three months now,” you add, trying to ease the tension that’s suddenly wrapped itself around the room.

Jace doesn’t say a word.

Instead, he picks up his wine glass, his jaw tight as he downs the rest of his drink in one go. The movement is sharp, almost aggressive, the stem of the glass looking fragile in his grip.

Cregan, on the other hand, bursts into laughter.

“Well, shit,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “That explains a lot.”

You frown slightly. “Explains what?”

Cregan leans back in his chair, still grinning. “Why Jace has been acting like a damn guard dog around you.”

Your stomach twists at his words. “I don’t—”

“He hasn’t shut up about you,” Cregan continues, ignoring your attempt to protest. “I thought he was just being protective because you’re his secretary, but now…” He whistles lowly, looking at Jace with pure amusement. “This just got interesting.”

You swallow hard, shifting your gaze to Jace, who has been eerily quiet. His fingers tap once against the table, a slow, calculated movement, before he finally speaks.

“Three months,” he murmurs, his tone unreadable. “And you never mentioned it.”

You hesitate, feeling the weight of his gaze. “It never came up.”

Jace lets out a short, humorless laugh. “Didn’t it?”

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine. Cregan watches the exchange with keen interest, his smirk widening. “You’re pissed.”

“I’m not pissed,” Jace says smoothly, but his grip on the empty wine glass tells a different story.

Cregan snorts. “Bullshit.”

Jace finally turns to you, his dark eyes pinning you in place. “Why keep it a secret?”

You shift uncomfortably. “It wasn’t a secret. I just… didn’t think it mattered in a professional setting.”

Jace leans in slightly, his gaze never wavering. “It mattered.”

Your heart stutters. “Jace—”

“Who is he?” he interrupts, his voice low.

You blink. “What?”

“Your fiancé.” Jace’s tone is calm—too calm. “Who is he?”

You hesitate before answering, suddenly feeling like prey caught in a trap. “You don’t know him. He’s not in the company.”

“Name,” Jace demands.

Your fingers tighten around the napkin in your lap. “Why does it matter?”

Jace exhales sharply through his nose, but before he can say anything, Cregan cuts in, his voice filled with amusement.

“Because Jace doesn’t like losing,” he says simply. A tense silence follows his words. Jace doesn’t deny it.

Your throat goes dry.

This… This isn’t just normal curiosity. The intensity in Jace’s eyes, the way his fingers twitch against the table, the sharpness in his posture—it all screams something deeper. Something possessive.

You’ve seen Jace annoyed before. You’ve seen him frustrated. But this…

This is something else entirely.

Cregan smirks at you. “I’d keep an eye on your fiancé if I were you.”

You shoot him a glare. “That’s not funny.”

“Who said I was joking?” Cregan chuckles, finishing off his drink. “Jace, you wanna get another bottle? You look like you need it.”

Jace doesn’t respond. Instead, he stands up abruptly, pushing his chair back.

“We’re leaving,” he says, his voice clipped.

You blink. “What? But—”

“Meeting’s over,” he cuts you off, already grabbing his coat. “We have work to do.”

Cregan raises an eyebrow. “That’s not suspicious at all.”

Jace ignores him, turning to you with an expectant look. “Let’s go.”

You hesitate for a second before finally standing up. There’s no point in arguing—he’s already made up his mind.

As you walk past Cregan, he leans in slightly, lowering his voice so only you can hear.

“You have no idea what you’ve just started.”

A chill runs down your spine.

Because deep down…

You think he might be right.

The moment you step out of the restaurant, Jace’s pace quickens. You struggle to keep up, your heels clicking against the pavement as you practically jog after him. The fitted pencil skirt you’re wearing doesn’t help—it restricts your movements, making each hurried step more difficult.

"Jace, slow down," you mutter, gripping the edge of your skirt to keep your balance.

He doesn’t respond, his strides long and purposeful, his jaw still tight from whatever storm is brewing inside him.

Then it happens.

A sharp, unmistakable sound.

You freeze.

Your stomach drops as you glance down, horror washing over you when you see the damage. The side seam of your skirt has torn just enough to expose more of your thigh than is remotely appropriate.

Shit.

Jace stops instantly, his head snapping toward you. His eyes lower, taking in the torn fabric, and for a moment, he says nothing.

You swallow hard, your face burning.

"This is bad," you murmur, shifting uncomfortably.

Jace exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose before shrugging off his suit jacket. Without a word, he steps closer, his movements precise, calculated. Before you can protest, he wraps the jacket around your waist, securing it with a firm knot.

The scent of him—expensive cologne mixed with something unmistakably him—envelops you immediately.

"You’re coming with me," he states, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You blink up at him. "What?"

Jace’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you forward. "We’re getting you something else to wear."

"Jace, I can just—"

"No," he cuts you off, his tone firm. "You can’t walk into the office like this."

You sigh, knowing he’s right. "Fine. But I can buy my own clothes, you know."

Jace ignores that. "We’ll go to a boutique near the office."

You purse your lips, but before you can say anything else, Cregan’s voice interrupts.

"You two always this dramatic?"

You both turn to see Cregan leaning casually against the side of his car, arms crossed, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Jace glares. "Leave."

Cregan chuckles. "So bossy. No wonder she’s engaged to someone else."

Jace’s grip on your waist tightens slightly. "I said leave."

Cregan raises his hands in surrender, grinning. "Alright, alright. Have fun, lovebirds."

You roll your eyes as Jace leads you away, his grip still firm. You can practically feel the tension radiating off him, the weight of something unspoken lingering between you.

The drive to the boutique is silent, but Jace’s fingers tap restlessly against the steering wheel. He’s thinking about something and you’re almost afraid to ask what.

The car barely rolls to a stop before Jace swings the door open and steps out, his movements sharp and purposeful.

He doesn’t wait for you.

You stare after him, your jaw tightening as irritation flares in your chest. "Unbelievable," you mutter under your breath before grabbing his suit jacket tighter around your waist and stepping out of the car.

Jace is already several steps ahead, pushing open the glass door to an upscale boutique like he owns the place.

You take a deep breath, schooling your features into neutrality before following him inside. The store is quiet and elegant, lined with racks of designer clothing, all neatly arranged under soft, golden lighting.

The moment Jace steps inside, the staff’s eyes widen in recognition. It seems he’s been here before. Of course he has.

A well-dressed woman immediately approaches, her smile polite and professional. "Mr. Velaryon," she greets smoothly. "What can we do for you today?"

Jace doesn’t hesitate.

"She needs a new outfit," he states, gesturing toward you. "Something appropriate for the office. Get her whatever she wants."

The woman’s gaze shifts to you, her smile unwavering. "Of course, sir."

You cross your arms. "I can pick out my own clothes, you know."

Jace finally looks at you, his jaw still tight from earlier. "I don’t have time for that."

You narrow your eyes. "Then why are we here?"

Jace exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose like you’re the one testing his patience. "Because you can’t go back to the office in a ripped skirt."

You huff. "I could’ve just gone home and changed."

"That would’ve wasted time," Jace says, his tone clipped. "Now, pick something before I do it for you."

Your lips part in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

The woman—who has clearly witnessed far worse rich-people drama—smiles like none of this is unusual. "Right this way, miss," she says, gesturing toward the clothing racks.

You throw Jace one last glare before following the woman, determined to pick something yourself before he can.

Inside the fitting room, you stare at the selection of clothes the woman has handed you. Everything is high-end, tailored, and far more expensive than what you’d normally buy for yourself.

You sigh, pulling off Jace’s suit jacket and slipping into a navy-blue blouse and a sleek pencil skirt that hugs your curves perfectly. You have to admit, it looks good.

Stepping out, you expect the saleswoman to be waiting, but instead, you find Jace leaning against the opposite wall, his arms crossed, eyes immediately locking onto you.

His gaze drags over your figure, slow and deliberate.

Something unreadable flickers in his expression before he schools his features back into that cold, indifferent mask.

"It’ll do," he says simply.

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? No sarcastic remarks? No complaints?"

Jace doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he pushes off the wall and walks toward you, closing the space between you with slow, calculated steps. You suddenly feel small under his gaze.

Then, just as he reaches you, he leans in slightly, lowering his voice.

"You should’ve told me you were engaged," he murmurs. Your breath catches. His tone isn’t angry. It isn’t accusatory. It’s something else, something dangerous. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. "I didn’t think it was relevant to work."

Jace’s lips twitch, but it isn’t a smile. It’s something sharper. "It’s relevant now."

You’re about to ask what the hell that means when he turns away, already pulling out his wallet.

"I’ll take care of the bill," he tells the saleswoman.

You stiffen. "Jace, I can—"

"It’s done," he interrupts, handing over his black card.

Your fingers clench into fists. "You can’t just buy me things."

He glances at you, his expression unreadable. "I can do whatever I want." Your heart pounds.

This is bad, very bad. Because you know Jace Velaryon and when he sets his mind on something…

He never lets it go.

The office is quiet when you return. Jace strides past you without a single word, disappearing into his office and shutting the door behind him. No snide remarks, no pointed glances—just cold silence.

You let out a slow exhale, sinking into your chair. Your entire morning had been a whirlwind, and now, finally, you had a moment to breathe.

Your phone vibrates.

You glance at the screen.

I’m going to a friend’s place this evening. Won’t be able to pick you up. You’ll be fine getting home, right?

You stare at the message, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

No how was your day? No what are you doing? Just a brief, almost careless text.

Something in your chest tightens.

Yeah, I’ll manage.

You set the phone down, leaning back in your chair. It’s not like this was new—he had always been like this. Distant, busy, focused on his own life. You had told yourself it didn’t bother you.

But for some reason, today, it does. Maybe it’s the way Jace had looked at you earlier. The intensity in his gaze, the heat in his words. Like he had been waiting for something.

Something you don’t quite understand. You shake your head, pushing the thought away. Work. Focus on work. Just as you reach for a file, Jace’s voice cuts through the intercom.

"Come in."

It’s not a request.

You sigh, smoothing down your new blouse before standing and making your way to his office.

Jace is leaning against his desk when you enter, his arms crossed, his gaze locked onto you the moment you step inside.

"You’re engaged," he states.

You frown. "We already established that."

He ignores your remark. "Are you happy?"

The question catches you off guard.

You blink. "What?"

Jace tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes unreadable. "Are you happy with him?" Your throat goes dry.

"That’s none of your business," you say, your voice quieter than you intend.

Jace lets out a low hum, pushing off his desk and walking toward you. His steps are slow, calculated, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Tell me something," he murmurs, stopping just close enough that you can feel the warmth of him. "Does he touch you the way I did today?"

Your breath catches. "Jace—"

"Does he hold your hand under the table?" His voice is lower now, almost a whisper. "Does he wrap his jacket around you when you need it?"

Your fingers tighten at your sides. "This isn’t appropriate."

Jace’s lips curve—not quite a smile, but something close. Something dangerous.

"And yet," he says softly, "you haven’t moved away."

Your heart pounds against your ribs.

You should step back. You should tell him to stop.

But you don’t and Jace notices. His eyes darken slightly, his hand twitching like he’s considering reaching for you again. But then, as if thinking better of it, he steps back. Just barely.

"You should go home early today," he says smoothly, as if nothing had happened.

You blink. "What?"

Jace turns, walking back to his desk. "Take the afternoon off."

"I don’t need—"

"I wasn’t asking," he interrupts, settling into his chair and picking up a file. "I’ll have someone take you home."

You shake your head, regaining some of your composure. "I can get home myself."

Jace’s jaw ticks. "Your fiancé isn’t picking you up."

You hesitate. "...How did you—"

"I heard your phone buzz earlier," he says simply, flipping a page like he isn’t dropping unsettling truths. "And I saw your face when you read the message."

You exhale sharply. "You don’t have to—"

"I want to." The way he says it—firm, decisive—sends another shiver down your spine. This is bad, because for the first time. You wonder if you really want him to stop.

The car slows as you near your home, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence between you and the driver Jace had insisted on sending with you.

You barely acknowledged the man when he arrived at the office, too tired to argue. Now, as you watch your house come into view, you sit up slightly, your brows furrowing.

Your fiancé’s car is still parked in the driveway.

That’s… odd.

He had told you he’d be at a friend’s place tonight. Your fingers tighten around your bag as unease settles in your stomach. The driver glances at you through the rearview mirror. "Do you want me to wait?"

You force a small smile. "No, it’s fine. Thank you."

You step out, hesitating for only a moment before making your way inside.

The house is quiet when you enter, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. You set your keys down carefully, your heartbeat quickening for reasons you can’t quite explain.

Something feels… off.

Then you hear it. A muffled laugh. A hushed whisper. The unmistakable sound of movement upstairs.

Your stomach drops.

Your steps are slow as you make your way up the stairs, each one feeling heavier than the last. You don’t want to jump to conclusions. Maybe he really did come home early. Maybe he’s just—

A soft moan slices through your thoughts, you freeze. The sound is coming from your bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, just enough for you to see shadows shifting inside. Your fingers tremble as you reach for the handle, pushing the door open an inch more—just enough.

Enough to see him.

Enough to see her.

Entangled in your sheets. In your bed.

Your fiancé’s head is thrown back, his hands gripping her waist, her lips pressing against his neck.

The woman lets out another quiet gasp, her voice dripping with pleasure. "You sure she won’t come home early?"

Your fiancé chuckles, breathless. "Nah. She’s busy working overtime for that asshole boss of hers."

Something inside you shatters.

The air leaves your lungs, your hands going cold.

For a moment, all you can do is stand there, watching the man you were supposed to marry betray you in the most disgusting way possible.

Then something shifts, a wave of clarity crashes over you, drowning out the numbness. You inhale sharply, stepping back, heart hammering. You don’t need to see more.

You don’t need to hear more. You turn on your heel, walking away as quickly and quietly as possible. By the time you reach the bottom of the stairs, your entire body is trembling. Your breathing is shallow, your fingers digging into your palms.

You don’t cry.

You don’t scream.

You just feel… hollow.

The only thing you can do is pull out your phone. Your hands shake as you scroll through your contacts, your vision blurring slightly and then, before you can second-guess yourself—before you can stop yourself—you press his name.

The phone barely rings twice before Jace picks up.

He doesn’t even wait for you to speak. "I’m on my way."

You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing back the lump in your throat. "Jace—"

"Don’t move," he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I’ll be there in five minutes."

Then the line goes dead.

And for the first time that night…

You finally feel like you can breathe.

You stand at the front door, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to keep your emotions in check. It takes Jace exactly four minutes and twenty-seven seconds to arrive.

The sound of his car screeching to a stop barely registers in your mind before he’s stepping out, his expression unreadable, his steps determined.

"Jace—" you start, reaching out to stop him.

But he doesn’t slow. Doesn’t even acknowledge your outstretched hand. Instead, he pushes past you, throwing the door open like he owns the place.

Your breath catches. "Jace, wait—"

He doesn’t.

His strides are purposeful, filled with a kind of dangerous energy you’ve never seen before. You hurry after him, trying to grab his arm, trying to talk some sense into him. "Jace, please—"

But he’s already at the top of the stairs.

Already at your bedroom door and then, without hesitation, he pushes it open. The sight inside is almost exactly the same as before. Your fiancé and his mistress tangled in the sheets.

Your sheets.

Their laughter dies instantly the moment they see Jace standing there. Your fiancé sits up, eyes wide, disbelief flickering across his face. "Who the hell—"

Jace claps.

Slow. Sarcastic. Mocking.

"Wow," he drawls, his voice laced with amusement. "Didn’t expect such a live performance tonight. Should I have brought popcorn?"

The woman scrambles for the blanket, trying to cover herself, but your fiancé—your ex-fiancé—narrows his eyes, glaring at Jace.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Jace doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t need to.

Because the very next second, his fist collides with your ex’s face. A sickening crack fills the air as his head snaps back, his body crashing against the headboard before he slumps down, dazed.

You gasp, your hands flying to your mouth.

"Jace!"

But he’s not done.

Jace grabs the man by his collar, yanking him forward. "You cheat on her," he says, his voice deceptively calm, "and you think you’re getting away with it?"

Your ex groans, clutching his bleeding nose. "The fuck—"

Jace doesn’t let him finish. Another punch. This time to the gut. Your ex doubles over, coughing, gasping for breath. The woman screams, scrambling off the bed. "Oh my god! Are you crazy?!"

Jace finally looks at her, his expression one of pure boredom. "Get the fuck out," he says coldly. "Unless you want a matching bruise."

She doesn’t need to be told twice. She grabs her discarded clothes, stumbling toward the door, not even sparing you a glance as she rushes out.

Jace turns back to the man still wheezing on the bed. "You don’t deserve her," he mutters, before shoving him back against the pillows like he’s nothing more than trash.

Then, finally, finally, he turns to you.

His expression softens just slightly. "Let’s go."

You’re still frozen in place, still processing everything that just happened. "Jace, you—"

"He’s not worth your time," Jace interrupts, stepping toward you. His voice is lower now, quieter. "You don’t need to stay here. You shouldn’t stay here."

Your ex groans from the bed. "She’s the one who came back crawling to me—"

Jace’s jaw clenches, and you immediately grab his wrist before he can throw another punch. "Jace, stop."

His muscles are tense beneath your touch, but he exhales sharply, forcing himself to relax. His eyes flicker to you, searching. "Come with me," he murmurs.

Your heart pounds.

You shouldn’t.

This is reckless. Messy. Dangerous. But when you look at Jace—at the way his gaze is only on you, at the way he stands between you and the man who broke your heart—

For the first time tonight, you don’t feel alone. You nod.

You’re about to take another step when your ex’s voice cuts through the air. "You’re really just gonna leave, huh?"

Jace tenses beside you, his grip tightening around your wrist.

"What about that video, baby?" your ex sneers, wiping the blood from his nose. "The one where you were begging for me? You think Jace would still look at you like that if he saw it?"

Your whole body goes cold.

Your feet feel like they’re glued to the floor.

Jace freezes as well, his back stiffening. But then, slowly, he turns back to your ex.

The look in his eyes is deadly. For a moment, you swear Jace is going to lunge at him again, but instead, he grips your wrist tighter and tugs you toward the door.

"Don’t listen to him," Jace murmurs, his voice eerily calm.

But you can’t move. Your legs won’t listen.

"Hey," Jace’s voice is firmer this time. His hand slides down to lace his fingers through yours. "Don’t listen to him."

But you did listen and now your hands are shaking.

Your ex’s laughter follows you down the stairs. "You better pray I never let it slip, sweetheart. Would be a shame if your new boss saw exactly how desperate you can be."

Jace grips your hand tighter, practically dragging you out of the house. The second you’re outside, the cold air hits you, but it does nothing to stop the tremors racking your body.

You barely register getting into the car, barely register the sound of the engine roaring to life then Jace is driving, fast.Too fast.

Your hands clutch your lap as the tears finally spill over, silent at first, then louder. Choked sobs that you can’t hold back any longer. Your entire body shakes, your vision blurring as you try to cover your face.

Jace doesn’t say anything at first. He just keeps driving.

But then, after a long moment, he speaks.

"I’ll handle it."

Your breath stutters. "What?"

Jace’s knuckles are white against the steering wheel. His voice is quiet, but laced with a dangerous edge. "The video. He won’t have it for long."

A choked sob escapes you. "Jace, you don’t—"

"He won’t have it," Jace repeats, his jaw clenching. "And if he does, he won’t be in any position to share it."

Something about the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine. You turn to look at him, his profile illuminated by the city lights flashing past. His expression is unreadable, his eyes dark.

This isn’t just about protecting you.

This is personal.

You swallow. "What… what are you going to do?"

Jace exhales slowly, his grip on the wheel loosening just slightly. "I told you, sweetheart." He glances at you, his gaze unwavering. "I’ll handle it."

The way he says it makes your stomach twist. Because something tells you that by the time Jace is done…

Your ex will wish he never opened his mouth.

Your feet feel unsteady as you step into Jace’s home. It’s spacious, modern, and cold—so different from the suffocating warmth of the place you once called home. But right now, you barely register your surroundings. Your body feels like it’s moving on its own, your mind drowning in the echo of your ex’s voice.

"Would be a shame if your new boss saw exactly how desperate you can be."

Your breath shudders.

The video.

The reason you had stayed with him for so long. You never even knew he had recorded it. Never consented. And yet, for months, he dangled it over your head, whispering threats between sweet apologies and empty promises.

And you had believed him. Had let yourself be trapped. Now, even though you had finally walked away, the chains were still wrapped tightly around you.

Your legs give out beneath you.

A gasp leaves your lips as you collapse, but before you can hit the ground, strong arms catch you.

"Hey, I got you." Jace’s voice is low, steady.

You cling to him without thinking, fingers curling into his shirt as you tremble. Jace doesn’t let go. He shifts, adjusting his hold, before scooping you up effortlessly. You barely register being carried, your body weak, your mind spinning.

But you feel safe.

For the first time in so long, you feel safe.

Jace carries you deeper into his home, through the dimly lit hallway and into his bedroom. He lowers you onto the bed gently, but you don’t let go of his shirt.

His brows furrow. "You’re shaking."

You let out a broken laugh. "I’m scared."

Jace’s jaw tightens. He leans down, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "He won’t touch you again. He won’t hurt you again."

You squeeze your eyes shut. "The video, Jace."

A muscle in his jaw jumps. "I told you—I’ll handle it."

You shake your head, tears spilling. "You don’t understand. If he releases it, my whole life—"

"I won’t let that happen." His voice is sharper this time, more forceful.

Your breath hitches.

Jace leans closer, his face just inches from yours, his eyes dark with something unreadable.

"He doesn’t get to have that power over you anymore," Jace murmurs. His hand moves, his thumb grazing the corner of your lips, his touch gentle despite the storm raging inside him.

"I’ll destroy him," he says softly, his tone almost… affectionate.

Your stomach flips.

There’s something terrifying about the calm in his voice. Something possessive in the way his gaze lingers on you. Something dangerous in the way he holds you like you belong to him. You should be scared.

But for some reason…

You’re not.

Jace pulls away slightly, reaching into his pocket for his phone. You watch as he dials a number without hesitation, his expression unreadable. Your heart pounds when you realize exactly who he’s calling.

Aemond Targaryen.

Your stomach twists. You know who Aemond is. You know what he is. The Targaryens aren’t just a powerful family—they are the family. The kind that owns the city, the kind that controls everything from the shadows and now, Jace is bringing them into this. Your hands clench the sheets beneath you as the call connects.

"Jace?" Aemond’s voice is smooth, controlled.

"Where’s Aegon?" Jace asks, his voice steady.

A pause. Then, a low chuckle. "Straight to business, huh? He’s here. What do you need?"

Jace’s jaw tightens. "I need a problem taken care of."

Your breath catches.

Aemond hums. "Elaborate."

Jace leans back, his free hand running through his hair. "Her ex." His eyes flicker to you, dark and unreadable. "He’s got something he shouldn’t have. I want it gone."

Aemond is silent for a moment. Then—"Does she want him dead or just ruined?"

You suck in a sharp breath.

Jace doesn’t even blink. "Both."

Your body tenses. "Jace—"

He turns to you, gaze firm. "You don’t have to do anything," he says softly. "You don’t even have to know the details."

Aemond exhales a low chuckle. "You’ve never asked us for a favor before, nephew. This must be personal."

Jace’s jaw flexes. "It is."

Aemond doesn’t hesitate. "Give two hours. We’ll handle it."

Jace nods, his grip tightening around the phone. "Make sure he regrets ever breathing near her."

Your stomach flips. Jace ends the call before Aemond can say anything else. For a long moment, there’s only silence.

You swallow hard. "Jace…"

He meets your gaze. "You’re safe now."

There’s something final in his voice. Something that tells you this isn’t just about protecting you. This is about claiming you. Because Jace Velaryon doesn’t just protect what’s his. He destroys anything that threatens it.

You sit on the edge of Jace’s bed, pulling at the oversized T-shirt draping over your frame. His shirt. His scent clings to the fabric, a mix of something dark and warm—cologne, a hint of smoke, and something uniquely him.

You exhale slowly, your mind still racing.

Two hours.

It’s been two hours since Jace made the call. Two hours since your life changed again.

Your phone sits beside you on the bed, but you haven’t touched it. You’re too afraid. Afraid of what messages might be waiting. Afraid of what might happen next.

The soft click of a door opening pulls you from your thoughts. Jace steps inside, his gaze immediately finding yours.

"It’s done," he says simply.

Your fingers tighten around the hem of the shirt. "What?"

Jace holds up his phone, turning the screen toward you.

Your breath catches.

A file.

A single video file.

Yours.

You look at him, wide-eyed. "How—"

Jace sets the phone down on the nightstand, crossing the room until he’s standing directly in front of you.

"Aemond and Aegon don’t fail." His voice is calm, but his eyes are sharp. Dark. "The video is in my hands now. You don’t have to be afraid anymore."

Your lips part, but no words come out. Jace watches you carefully before crouching in front of you, his hands resting on your knees.

"I told you," he murmurs. "I handle things."

Your throat tightens. "And my ex?"

Jace tilts his head slightly, studying your face. "That’s not your concern."

You swallow. "Jace—"

He exhales, reaching up to brush his fingers along your cheek. "He won’t touch you again."

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine. Because it’s not just reassurance, it’s a promise. A dangerous one. You should be scared. You should be.

But when Jace stands, tilting your chin up so you’re forced to meet his gaze, all you can feel is relief.

Because Jace isn’t just protecting you.

He’s keeping you.

You grip the sheets beneath you, your hands trembling. "I need to know," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

Jace’s expression darkens instantly. "No."

You swallow, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "Please."

He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his dark curls. "Why?"

"Because I need to know." Your voice is barely above a whisper. "I need to know if my fears were real. If—" Your throat tightens. "If I really look like that. Like—"

Jace’s jaw clenches. "Like what?"

You hesitate, shame curling in your chest. "Like a desperate whore."

Jace exhales sharply, his jaw flexing. He doesn’t want to do this. You can see it in the way his fingers hover over the screen, in the flicker of hesitation in his stormy eyes.

But when you whisper, "Please," something in him cracks.

Reluctantly, he presses play. The moment the video begins, you stop breathing. The room around you fades, swallowed by the flickering images on the screen. Your own face stares back at you.

Bare. Helpless.

Tears streak your cheeks as you lie there, begging—pleading. Your voice is thick with despair, cracked with fear. "Please—please stop—"

You can barely watch. You feel sick, your stomach twisting, bile rising in your throat.

You look like a broken doll. A strangled sob escapes your lips.

The screen goes black. You blink, realizing Jace has snatched the phone away, his chest rising and falling heavily. He’s gripping the device so tightly you think it might shatter in his hands.

His entire body is rigid, his breathing uneven and when he finally looks at you— His eyes are filled with pure, unfiltered rage.

"He’s dead."

His voice is low, dangerous.

A statement. A promise. Your breath shudders. "Jace—"

"He’s. Dead."

Jace runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply before pacing the room. "I should’ve killed him myself."

His control is slipping. You can see it—the way his fists clench, the way his body hums with barely contained fury.

Your hands shake as you wrap your arms around yourself. "I look—" Your voice breaks. "I look like—"

Jace stops abruptly. His gaze snaps to you, and in an instant, he’s in front of you, kneeling between your legs, grabbing your wrists gently but firmly.

"Don’t." His voice is raw. "Don’t say that."

Your breath hitches.

"He did this to you. Not you." Jace’s grip tightens just slightly, grounding you. "This isn’t your shame to carry."

Tears well in your eyes. "I feel—"

Jace exhales, reaching up to cup your face with both hands. "You’re not dirty," he murmurs, his thumbs brushing away the tears that slip down your cheeks. "You’re not weak. You survived him. And now, he’s nothing."

You swallow hard. "But—"

"No one will ever see this video again," Jace swears, his voice like steel. "No one will ever touch you again. No one will ever hurt you again."

You shake your head, another sob escaping your lips. "Jace—"

He leans closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. "You’re mine now," he whispers.

Your stomach flips. "And I protect what’s mine."*

The air between you is heavy. Jace doesn’t speak. He just moves. Before you can react, his arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. Your breath catches.

His body is warm, tense beneath your fingertips. You can feel the way his muscles tighten, the barely restrained anger still simmering inside him. But his hands…

His hands are gentle.

One rests against the small of your back, firm but reassuring. The other moves slowly, fingers threading through your hair, stroking in a way that makes your throat tighten.

His lips brush against the crown of your head.

"It’s going to be okay." The whisper is so quiet, so soft, it nearly breaks you. You squeeze your eyes shut. How long has it been since someone held you like this? Since someone made you feel safe?

Too long.

Jace shifts, and suddenly, his forehead is pressed against yours.

Your breath stutters.

You can’t move.

His scent surrounds you, the warmth of his skin just inches away. Your noses nearly brush, his breath fanning across your lips. It would take nothing—nothing—for him to close the space.

But he doesn’t.

He just stays there.

Holding you.

Grounding you.

The silence stretches, thick with something neither of you dare name. You don’t know how long you stay like that, your heart pounding against your ribs, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

Finally, Jace exhales, his voice barely above a murmur.

"You don’t have to be afraid anymore." You want to believe him. You do. But when you open your eyes, meeting his gaze, you realize something terrifying. It’s not your ex you’re afraid of anymore.

It’s him.

Because Jace Velaryon isn’t just your boss. He isn’t just the man who saved you. He’s the man who’s starting to consume you.

And the worst part? You’re letting him.

Jace exhales slowly as he pulls away from you. His warmth lingers, the ghost of his touch still imprinted on your skin.

"I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight," he murmurs, his voice quieter now, more controlled. But the second he takes a step back, fear grips your chest.

"No." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but the desperation in it is unmistakable.

Jace freezes.

You swallow hard, your hands curling into the oversized shirt draping over your frame. "Stay."

His expression shifts—hesitation flickering behind his eyes.

"Are you sure?" His voice is rough, as if he’s fighting something inside himself.

You nod quickly. "I don’t want to be alone." Jace watches you for a moment before exhaling sharply. "Alright."

Your heart pounds as he walks toward the bed. He moves carefully, as if he’s afraid to get too close. He lowers himself onto the mattress, keeping a respectful distance.

Too much distance.

It’s not enough. Without thinking, you reach for him. Jace tenses as your fingers wrap around his wrist.

"Please," you whisper, shifting closer.

He doesn’t pull away.

Slowly, hesitantly, you guide his arm toward you, wrapping yourself around it. Your fingers curl into his sleeve, your cheek pressing against his shoulder. Jace lets out a shaky breath. You expect him to resist—to tell you this is a bad idea. But he doesn’t.

Instead, his free hand moves, resting lightly against your arm. The warmth of his touch is subtle, but comforting. You close your eyes, exhaling softly. "Thank you."

Jace doesn’t respond. He just stays there, silent and unmoving, letting you cling to him and for the first time in a long time…

You feel safe.

Jace doesn’t sleep. He lays still, staring at the ceiling, his arm still trapped between your hands. Your grip on him is loose now, but you haven’t let go completely, as if even in sleep, you’re afraid he’ll leave.

He should.

He should have never agreed to this.

But how could he have said no? Not when you looked at him with those wide, broken eyes. Not when your voice trembled as you asked him to stay.

Not after hearing that fucking video.

Jace grits his teeth, his free hand curling into a fist.

He had barely lasted five seconds before slamming the phone down. But that was all it took.

Five seconds.

Five seconds of your voice—of you, pleading and whimpering and begging. He had wanted to kill your ex before. Now, he wants to destroy him. Jace exhales sharply, forcing himself to look at you instead of dwelling on his rage.

Your face is peaceful in sleep, framed by the fabric of his shirt, which still drapes over your form. He should look away. He shouldn’t stare. But he does, his eyes trace the curve of your cheek, the faint part of your lips.

You’re beautiful.

Painfully so.

And it’s fucking unfair.

Unfair that someone like you was tainted by someone like him. Unfair that the first time Jace heard you make those sounds, it was in a moment of fear rather than pleasure.

His jaw tightens.

His fingers twitch with the urge to touch you—to brush your hair from your face, to trace the outline of your lips, to— Jace clenches his fist.

No.

Not like this.

Not when you’re fragile, broken.

Not when you’re only here because you need comfort, not him. He inhales deeply, steadying himself. Then, a small sound escapes your lips Jace stiffens. You whimper softly, your brows pulling together, your grip on his arm tightening.

"No…"

His stomach twists.

"Please…"

Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s enough to make something in his chest snap. You’re dreaming about it. About him.

Jace swears under his breath, his body going rigid as your breaths turn uneven, your face twisting with pain. Then, your first tear falls. "Shh." He moves without thinking, shifting closer, cupping your cheek with one hand. "It’s just a dream."

You don’t wake, but your body reacts instantly, pressing closer to him. Jace exhales sharply, his thumb brushing over your damp cheek.

He hates this.

Hates that the only time he can hold you like this is when you’re unconscious, when you’re breaking apart in your own nightmares. Hates that someone else did this to you. Jace swallows, pressing his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"I swear to you," he whispers, his voice thick with quiet rage. "He will never hurt you again." And he means it. Even if it means becoming something far worse than the man who hurt you.

Jace has been awake for hours. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t even tried to sleep. His entire focus has been on you. Your restless movements. The way your hands clench and unclench in your sleep. The quiet, broken whimpers escaping your lips.

He keeps whispering soft reassurances, keeps running his hand down your arm, over your back, trying to soothe you.

But it’s not enough. Because whatever nightmare has its claws in you—it won’t let go. Your body stiffens. Your breathing turns ragged. Then, suddenly— You scream. Jace jerks upright just as you bolt up from the bed, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

"Hey—" But you don’t hear him. Your wide, terrified eyes are locked on something that isn’t there. Your hands tremble, gripping the sheets so tightly your knuckles turn white. You look like you’re about to run, like you’re still trapped in your nightmare, still there, still in his hands—

Rage burns in Jace’s chest.

"Hey." His voice is firm, but gentle. He doesn’t grab you—doesn’t want to startle you more. Instead, he waits. Slowly, your eyes shift, finally seeing him.

"Jace?" Your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

His chest tightens. "I’m here." and that’s all it takes. A choked sob rips from your throat as your body collapses against him. Jace catches you instantly, wrapping his arms tightly around you, shielding you from everything.

"He’s gone," he murmurs against your hair. "He’s never touching you again." Your entire body shakes in his arms.

"But I still—" Your voice breaks. "I still feel him." Jace swears under his breath. His hold tightens as he presses his lips against your temple. "I know."

He hates this. Hates that no matter how much he threatens, no matter how much blood he’s willing to spill—he can’t erase the way your ex still haunts you. Jace tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

"Listen to me,"* he says, his voice dangerously soft. "He took too much from you already. Don’t let him take any more."

Your lips tremble. "I don’t know how to stop."

Jace exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours. "Then let me help you." The words are a quiet promise, he doesn’t mean just tonight, not just the nightmares.

He means all of it.

Your breath hitches, your fingers tightening in his shirt and for the first time since the nightmare started—since your entire world fell apart— You feel like maybe, just maybe, you won’t have to go through this alone.

Jace lets out a slow, controlled breath. You had finally fallen asleep again. But this time—not with his arm trapped in your grip. This time, you were completely wrapped around him.

Your arms clutching at his shirt. Your legs tangled with his. And your face—your soft, warm face—was buried in the curve of his neck, your quiet breaths ghosting against his skin. Jace clenches his jaw.

Fuck.

This is torture. Absolute. Fucking. Torture.

He swears under his breath as your lips part slightly, exhaling a warm breath right against his pulse. His body tenses, his fingers twitching where they rest against your waist. You have no idea what you’re doing to him. You don’t even realize how dangerous this is.

How dangerous he is.

His throat bobs as he fights the urge to move—to hold you closer, to press his lips against your hair, your cheek, your mouth— Jace squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling slowly.

He’s not like him.

He’s not like your fucking ex. He will not take advantage of you when you’re vulnerable. When you trust him. No matter how badly his body begs for it. No matter how fucking insane your warmth is making him.

He groans quietly, tilting his head back against the pillow, willing himself to calm the fuck down. This isn’t about him, this is about you and right now, you need him.

Not to be selfish. Not to take.

But to protect.

To be good for you.

Jace swears softly as you nuzzle closer, your nose brushing against his throat. His grip on you tightens just slightly—just enough to make sure you know you’re safe. He closes his eyes.

"Sleep, sweetheart," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "I’ll keep you safe." Even if it fucking kills him.

A/N: I'm back did you miss me. This is probably the easiest and hardest thing I've ever had to write

PRINCE JACAERYS VELARYON WAS BEAUTIFUL. At least that was what Y/n thought. He was not cut from the rough ice of the North like the men she saw each day, jagged at the edges and coarse to the touch. No. He lacked silver in his curls or lilac in his eyelashes, but only beauty like that could stem from the dragon riders of Old Valyria. His lashes could rival hers, his nose long and curved. And those lips, redder in the biting cold, similar to the rosy blush now blooming on his freckled cheeks.

He clambered off his great beast, a brilliant green-scaled dragon. She had only ever dreamed to see a dragon since she was little, the fiery beings that dominated the stories and the histories, and yet now her eyes would not stray from its rider. She looked beside her at Cregan, her brother tall and observing the Targaryen prince with consideration. She turned her gaze back. It was impossible now to look away.

"Lord Stark?" came Jacaerys' inquiry. His sleek leather boots crunched against the frozen mud, his cloak swaying with the wind and the rhythm of his motion. Each step of his approach made her heart race.

When her brother confirmed the prince's question, Jacaerys stood before him and provided a curt nod. Cregan did the same. Y/n inhaled sharply, wishing for naught but the chilly air to distract herself from what she was now feeling. She was a wolf of House Stark and she would not have herself blushing and gawking like a soft-skinned southron.

Apparently she hadn't realised her current countenance, for he had lifted her hand to those soft lips and pressed a brief kiss to it. For all the furs that were piled upon her shoulders, a shiver ran through her body. "Are you quite all right, my lady?"

"Perfectly fine," she replied, all too quickly. Even Cregan shot her a suspicious look, yet ever true to his character, remained in his calculative silence. "It is an honour to welcome you and your dragon to Winterfell, my prince."

"It is an honour to be welcomed," he responded. His words flowed out so easily, such a wonder to hear. He could say such simplicity and sound as clear as the spring streams. "I have heard great things of the North, and especially of House Stark."

He spoke like a minstrel.

"As you already might know I am here to defend my mother's claim," he did not dawdle on flatteries for longer than he needed to. She liked it. "I ask that you not forget the oath your father once swore to my mother when she was named heir."

"Starks do not turn back on oaths," said Cregan solemnly. "Let us have you settled here first. You are our guest."

"It might take time to accustom to the temperature, but we have readied you a fire," she added on, pushing down the giddiness that threatened to creep into her tone.

Jacaerys nodded once again, the barest beginnings of a smile gracing his pretty face. "Your hospitality is truly appreciated. May I ask if there is any plan of accommodation for my dragon? I do not think Vermax particularly enjoys the cold."

"I shall have my men look to it," Cregan promised. "My sister shall escort you to your chambers." He gestured to Y/n, who sent her brother a surprised look. Her eyes were rounder than usual. Was that a smirk on his lips? When a man like Lord Cregan Stark smiled, no matter how small, it was obvious. He was usually stoic, not grumpy, but expressionless.

Y/n nodded dutifully, though she didn't miss to give him a quick head tilt of suspicion, then turning herself back to the prince. She breathed out a small sigh. "Come with me."

"HOW DO YOU LIKE WINTERFELL?" She asked. The prince had been quieter their walk to his guest rooms, and it was unnerving her. Why would he not speak to her? And why did she care?

"I'm afraid I have not seen enough of it to truly enjoy its beauty," he answered courteously. "But from what I have had the pleasure to encounter, it seems like it will grow on me. Though the cold is... an acquired taste."

Y/n chuckled. Jacaerys had a thick cloak on his shoulders, whilst she merely wore her pale blue dress. "It does grows on you."

"I cannot say I trust your words, my lady," he returned her chuckle. The sound was gently and smooth, much unlike the boisterous guffaws that her ears were so accustomed to. "The ice runs through your veins. This is the only home you've ever known. As for me, well I suppose my blood runs hot."

Ah. Of course. Fire and blood, as was his house motto.

They walked on down the hall until they reached a sturdy wooden door with metal hinges and an engraved ring handle. She gestured it to him with a nod of her head and pushed them open.

"It is our finest room, aside from my brother's, of course."

The room itself, for Northern standards, was quite lavish. All of the furniture was made by a rich-coloured wood, brownish-red and carved with designs of vines and leaves. The bed was large with a plush mattress, multiple pillows and a cloth and fur quilt. A large fireplace blazed with orange flames on the wall beside the door. Two comfortable armchairs were placed in front of it over a patterned rug.

"This will be quite comfortable thank you," Jacaerys nodded. He walked over to one of the armchairs and outstretched his palms, faced to the fire. He breathed out a sigh of relief at the heat.

She felt herself smile as she watched his defences lower and let the warmth consume him, but it faded when he spoke again.

"Is there anything you require, my lady?"

Discomfiture settled in the air now and she felt her own embarrassment bloom. One of his eyebrows were raised and he looked expectant. "Oh no, my apologies."

He hummed in acknowledgement and turned away, looking back to the fire. The light glimmered in his sweet brown eyes. She stared, just for a moment longer, and then she walked out.

What is wrong with me? she thought to herself. Y/n had never behaved like this, a maiden feasting her eyes upon the first knight she'd seen. She had overstayed her time with him and he was irritated now. Her face felt hot despite the drafts blowing through the old castle. At that point she decided to speed her pace, much more a run rather than a regular walk. She felt as if the walls were eyes, witness to her awkward moment. She hurried to her rooms.

Once she'd arrived she shoved her door shut and flung herself on her bed, her groans of frustrations muffled by the layers of blanket and mattress.

"My lady?"

Her maid, Elara, was a sweet girl. At her age, she had been assigned as Y/n's ladies maid since they were both three and ten years of age. She tentatively stepped forward to the Stark girl and sat on her bedside, an action some would deem inappropriate. But they were comfortable with each other after years. It was no longer a noble and a servant. They were friends. "What's the matter?"

"Have you seen the prince yet?" she asked, rolling over so now her pitiful face could be viewed by all.

"No, I have not," Elara replied. "Why?"

"Perhaps if you saw him you might understand."

Elara's hand flew to cover her mouth. A laugh dared to escape her throat. "My lady... might you... harbour affections for him?"

"I have known him all but ten minutes, it cannot be affections," she sat up and held the young maid by her shoulders. "Is it?"

"Well I do not thing your feelings are fully fledged but you are certainly drawn to him from what I can tell," Elara giggled. Her stubborn Lady Stark was going mad over a southern boy, the crown prince no less. If she was told that two moments ago, she would've cackled and accuse a lie.

"What am I doing?" she exclaimed. "He is here on the topic of war and I shall not think of him as anything more than a royal envoy."

"Very well, my lady," hummed Elara. "Now let me ready you for supper. Perhaps we may make you pretty for your prince."

The ladies maid earned a shove and an exasperated cry of her name.

SUPPER WAS A TORTUOUS AFFAIR. There he sat, beside her brother at the high table. The two men had been engaged in deep conversation. She miserably picked at the roast meat on her plate and pushed around her potatoes. Cregan and Jacaerys' talk had dissipated now and she was far too unsatisfied by the rest of the regular chatter in the hall.

Y/n finally dared to shift her gaze to the prince. The side of his face was always a sight to behold, the shape of his nose and the sharpness of his jaw. She gasped softly. He was staring before she had looked, intently. His brown irises had pupils blown wide. As soon as he noticed her, he swiftly moved his view and took a gulp of wine from his goblet. She frowned. What?

The entire occasion she felt as if there were eyes burning into the side of her skull, but every time she looked beside her he was quite intently drinking or eating or looking at the rest of the hall below them. It didn’t even stop here, she felt this strange feeling of being watched the whole length of the time Jacaerys resided in the North. She had tried to initiate conversation many times. Sometimes her attempts would prevail and they would fall into easy words, but it always ended the same. Just as she thought she was about to break through his walls he would shrivel up and dismiss her.

Unfortunately, her brother had made fast friends with the Targaryen. They went on hunts, drank together, talked nearly everyday. Cregan was going to accept his terms, it was as clear as day. She did not know what the bargaining chip was, but a week after the prince had arrived, the Lord of Winterfell strode out the doors of his study with a pleased grin. Jacaerys followed, his own face as satisfied until he saw Y/n.

"I take your meeting went quite well?" she inquired politely. Her arms were folded behind her back with her fingers intertwined together.

"We shall be riding for the South soon, dear sister," Cregan explained. "In the name of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen."

"Am I coming with you?"

"No."

It was not her brother who so hastily nearly cut off her question, but Jacaerys himself. His jaw was tense and he stared at the stone floors.

"Pardon?" she whispered. She took a shaky inhale, her humiliation and his rejection cutting harsher than the winter winds.

Even Cregan seemed to find Jacaerys' word strange and patted him on the back to release the rigidity of the moment. "What the prince means to say, is that Winterfell needs you. Once I leave to fight in the South, the North will lack a protector. I bestow that responsibility upon you, sister. I know you can handle this."

Her? As acting Warden of the North? Her emotions battled within her, pride against astonishment. Ultimately, duty won over anything else. "I am honoured, brother."

"Good," Cregan squeezed her shoulder.

"Excuse me," Jacaerys interrupted, acknowledging only the lord. "I must ready myself for my departure on the morrow."

"Very well."

The two men shook hands and Jacaerys left. Y/n watched him leave longingly until Cregan knocked her out of her trance.

"Should anything happen to me on the battlefield-"

"Brother!" she exclaimed. "My ears shall not suffer the talk of crows, especially regarding you."

"Y/n," he spoke in that tone, his lord voice. It was a tone he only used when ruling, to command. He had perfected that tone over his years in the role. "Should anything happen to me while I fight this war, you will rule the North until Rickon is of age. I trust no one else to do so. Only a Stark will take the seat in Winterfell."

She wished to scream and cry and ring her arms around his neck. The only preparation she'd ever had in ruling was watching him do it and now he expected her to immediately take over if he died. She sighed. She was a Stark and she had duty to her lord and loyalty to her brother. "Very well."

Cregan patted her back appreciatively. "Prince Jacaerys will fly ahead first and I shall leave after him."

Jacaerys. And in a flash, all her mind settled on was him. She had so many questions, and they were going to be forever unresolved as he was leaving the next day. Somehow he managed to be the priority of her concerns.

For all the restraint and ice she possessed it was melted by his fire. She knew she was too far gone the moment she found herself at his door in the middle of the night, the questions she wanted to ask at the tip of her tongue. They would all spill out if she couldn't retain herself. She lifted her knuckles and rapped on the cool wood.

Moments later she was met with the face that she so admired. Jacaerys' eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and his soft lips were pressed into a line. "Lady Stark?"

"May I come in?"

"It is not appropriate-"

"Please."

He finally relented and stepped aside so she could enter. "Why have you come here?"

"My broth- Lord Cregan," she corrected. "I'd assume you've heard, has... I suppose named me his current heir to the North."

"I have heard," he confirmed. "How is this relevant?"

"If I am to be the Lady of Winterfell we might have to work together in the future, as you are the heir to the Seven Kingdoms," she began. "And... well I just feel like you do not like me so much. And I wish to know why."

"I do not not like you," Jacaerys answered courteously. His face was completely unreadable. To her, blankness was thinly crossing the line over to dislike.

"You act that way," she blurted out.

"It is merely the appropriate behaviour that befits unmarried people."

She saw his fists beginning to clench. Y/n winced. "My apologies. I suppose I was overreacting. You are right. It is inappropriate."

She took a shuddering breath and she tore away from his intense gaze to take her leave. Stupid girl. She knew exactly how this would end up and yet she still went through with it.

"And I am constantly on the brink of breaking that propriety every time you are near."

He gripped on her wrist and shut the door, pulling her towards him. His right hand cupped her cheek and his left arm encircled her waist. His thumb circled her soft flesh, his eyes desperately trying to memorise every detail they could set their sights upon.

"What?" Once again, only he could make her this inarticulate.

"I have not been demonstrating appropriate behaviour, I am trying to restrain myself," he admitted. "You have had me entranced since the moment I landed in your courtyard. I feel your eyes on me all the time, I cut our conversations because I discover it is difficult to be in your presence and not want to kiss you."

"So kiss me," she breathed.

"I cannot," his teeth gritted.

"And why is that?" she interrogated.

"It is not proper."

Her mouth lowered into an ‘o’ and her eyes narrowed. His honour was unquestionable and her bane. "You have mentioned propriety a million times in this moment already and yet you are holding me so close by-

"I shouldn't be!" he still hadn't let go.

"Then release me!" she exclaimed.

"I cannot either," he groaned. "Damn you, Stark."

"I have done nothing," she defended. He was being oh so exasperating and yet her stomach burned with desire.

She had no time to register how his mouth attached to her neck and lavished it with urgent kisses and grazes. Y/n tried to silence herself, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You have done everything. You have utterly bewitched me. You make me forget the burden I carry, what occurs beyond the North right now. You make me selfish."

She didn't know what to say to him now, so she ripped his head up to her lips. Jacaerys' kiss was pure fire, she had no doubt of his heritage. He kissed so ardously and desperately, clinging to her cheeks, his tongue savouring the taste of her.

They kissed like this even as he roughly pushed her to his bed, until she had to cling on to him so she would not fall. She was made to sit on the bedside, where he pulled himself away from her and descended to his knees. Jacaerys' hands were surprisingly smooth, without any callouses. But they were oh so warm. His fingers trailed from her ankle up until her knees, feeling her skin. Before he rucked up her skirts, he stopped himself. "May I?"

Her head bobbed furiously. "Please."

Jacaerys threw her skirts up so they pooled at her hips, leaving her thighs and her undergarments exposed to him. He kissed the upper part of her calf, then hooking his fingers at the top of her underwear. Y/n's breathing shuddered, her hands gripping into the sheets for some semblance of stability.

He excruciatingly slowly pulled down the flimsy piece of fabric, tossing it aside. He made a reminder to keep it for himself for when he left.

Y/n was already slick and glistening, a sight which instantly affected his breeches. His index finger ran across her folds, making her intake a sharp breath. Then, the prince returned his finger to his mouth, tasting the evidence of her arousal. His pleased groan sent a shiver up her spine.

He hefted her legs over his shoulders, turning to kiss down her thighs. At long last, his tongue made contact with her core. He licked an experimental strip across. She gasped and instinctively she reached to trap her own fingers in those luscious dark curls. "Oh-"

Jacaerys feasted on her like a man starved, devouring what he could, as if he had been denied food or water for years. His tongue delved into her entrance, the pressure building in her belly. She felt his nose, pressed up against her, and she tried so hard not to let the whole of Winterfell hear her. He suckled and tasted, thumb now pressing on her pearl. She cried his name, unable to keep down her wails now. He made his own low noises whenever her hands would further thread through his hair and pull at it. She had no idea that his or her wants could extend to this.

"Fuck-" the pressure built and built. Finally, she could not hold back and her peak washed over her, something incomparable than anything she'd ever felt before. Jacaerys lapped up her release eagerly, only stopping when he heard her defeated whines. He wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve and kissed her once more. Y/n grew flustered at the taste of herself.

"Beauty incarnate," he whispered, pulling her onto his lap. She settled her head in the crook of his neck. His scent was like the early days of summer and freshly burnt firewood. He kissed her temple.

They had only just begun to settle in a comfortable silence, but Y/n could not hold back. "You are leaving for the South."

"Correct," he replied, pushing back any baby hairs sticking to her hairline.

"You are leaving me."

Jacaerys sighed. He sounded ungratified, but he continued to kiss the side of her face and her forehead. "If it were up to me I would bring you with me. But your brother as stationed you at your home and you must fulfil your duty."

"I know," she mumbled.

Quiet again.

"I shall come back for you," he declared. "I will make you my wife, if that is what you desire."

"More than anything," she proclaimed. Daunting it would be to be the wife to a man who would be the most powerful person in the realm, but that was all in title. At the very least, he would belong to her.

"Wait for me, my love?"

His love. "I would wait an eternity for you."

"As would I," he responded, sealing their promises with their last kiss of the night, the wolf and the dragon. Ice and fire.

It had been storming all day and you had hoped that it would let up before you had to retire to your chambers for the evening. But of course, you had no such luck. Your handmaidens had tried a steaming bath and tea to calm your nerves but to no avail your heart still pounded rapidly with every crash of thunder. 

You tried and tried to convince yourself it was just the dragons below but with every strike of lightning you would jump and pull the covers closer. The breeze from the window has been blowing out your fire and the cold has begun to creep in. Slowly your nerves begin to rise again and the shadows cast by the bolts in the sky send shivers down your spine. 

After an hour of tossing and turning fitfully on your bed, you push the covers off and rise. The stone floors chill your feet and only make your adrenaline spike. Grabbing the candle almost burnt out from your side table, you step into your slippers and walk over to your chamber doors. You pull open the heavy door and peek out and sigh in relief at the empty hall. 

Lightning flashes illuminating the stone walls and send shadows dancing far above your head. You hold tighter to your candle and start in the familiar direction as fast as your feet allow. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

Jace loves the sound of the rain beating against the stone. Sleep has escaped him, not that he cared because it allowed him to have more time to relax and let his mind wander to what has truly been keeping him up. The dress, a generous term, that you wore to dinner was nothing more than a napkin. You had coo’d and preened about how your handmaidens had worked dutifully to make your vision come to life and he wondered if that vision was to be the temptress of this desolate island. 

When you reached across the table he was sure your breasts were going to spill out and he cleared his throat, standing to reach the wine for you. When you looked up at him with your sweet smile he felt his trousers begin to tighten as he filled your cup. Gods and the way you squeezed his arm and let your hand linger there sent his head spiraling. Regardless that the touch was innocent or not it still left him wishing your hands were elsewhere. This line of thinking is the exact reason he’s spread out on his bed with his cock in his fist and his eyes screwed shut. 

His grip is light and teasing as he envisions you looking at him with a tilted head and a furrowed brow, asking if you’re doing it right. His stomach tightens when he swipes against his tip imagining it’s your lips placing a soft kiss on it. “Fuck, just like that.” the breathy words leave his mouth as he jerks his hips up into his hand. His grip tightens when he pictures you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock. “You’re doing-“ there’s a quick succession of knocks at his door. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, grabbing his sheets as the door starts to open. “Give me a mo-

“I’m sorry.” you shut the door behind you and pad over to his bed. Jace groans, shoving a pillow over his cock as you set the candle on his table. 

“What’s wrong?” he tries to control his breathing. He looks over the length of you and wishes he didn’t. Your nipples are poking through your flimsy nightdress and the hem barely reaches past your small clothes. “Are you okay?” his eyes make it back up to your face and he looks at the pout gracing your lips. 

“The fire went out in my room.” you chew your lip. 

“Why didn’t you call your handmaidens?” he doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so clipped but the feel of his cock pressing against his pillow is less than desirable right now. 

“I’m cold.” you whine wrapping your arms around you. He swallows knowing you’re not doing it intentionally but you're pushing your breasts out further and he has to look away. 

“Have your furs escaped you as well?” he looks out his window at the storm still waging on.

“I’m scared of the storm.” your voice barely a whisper. “Jace please,” you push your bottom lip out and he slowly turns back towards you. “Please.” he sighs and pats the empty space next to him. 

“Come on then.” he gasps as you pull the sheets back. “Hold on.” he fists the sheets still covering himself, groaning at the pillow sliding against his cock.

“You always let me under the covers.” you whine pulling on the sheet again. 

“Yeah but- I-“ he mentally berates himself at this situation. He sighs, meeting your pleading eyes once more. “I’m not wearing anything. Just go sit on the couch and I’ll find some pants.” he nods at you. 

“If you prefer to sleep in the nude I can too.” you offer him a soft smile and start to pull up your nightdress. 

“No, no. Wait. That’s not-“ the thin piece of fabric is pooled on the ground before he can finish his sentence. What the fuck is going on? Jace's head spins as he looks at your bare chest and watches you grab for your small clothes next. “Fuck, stop.” he sits up and stops your hand and he groans as the sheet and pillow fall away from him. 

“Did I do something wrong?” your face deflates and he wants to jump out his window at the expression. 

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” he cups your face. “I promise.” he nods. “I’m going to go get a pair of pants and you’re going to put your nightdress back on and we’ll lay down. Okay?” he searches your eyes. 

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” you blink up at him. 

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” he furrows his brows. 

“Cause this looks like it hurts.” you start to reach for his cock. “It’s red and looks like it’s crying.” he grabs your wrist before you can grab him and looks at you with wide eyes. He’s rendered speechless as he blinks at you trying to form a sentence. “Does it?” you tilt your head and start to move your other hand towards it which he stops once more. 

“It does. A bit but it’s not your fault.” not intentionally anyways. “I don’t..” he shakes his head, still trying to find the words. “Fuck it.” he mutters under his breath. “Get in bed and I’ll go get my extra furs.” he watches a smile start to form on your face as he releases your wrists. 

“Thank you.” you pull him into a hug and he freezes. “You’re so warm.” you hold him closer, burying your head in his neck. “Maybe I don’t need furs. I just need you.” your soft words go straight to his cock. 

“I’ll be right back.” he starts to pull away. 

“No.” you hold him closer and start to crawl onto the bed. 

“You’ve abandoned your furs and nightdress for a sheet?” he holds your hips to stop you from sitting in his lap. 

“I’ve abandoned them for you, Jacaerys.” your hand’s make their way to his curls. “For your warmth and embrace. You always hold me when it storms. Why is tonight so different?” you try to scoot closer and he groans feeling your chest press against his.

“Cause my cock is out.” you let out a whine at his words. 

“If it hurts so bad let me make it feel better.” before he processes your words you have your fingers wrapped around his shaft. 

“Gods.” he groans, wrapping his hand around yours. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, pulling back. “Did I hurt you?” you search his face. 

“Quite the opposite.” he lets out a breathy chuckle. 

“So you want me to touch your cock?” you tilt your head. 

“I mean yes but- 

“Tell me how.” you wrap your fingers back around him. “I want to help you.” you pump your hand once. Jace's head is soaring trying to figure out if this is real or the best dream he’s ever had. When your thumb brushes against his leaking slit he decides he doesn’t care and stops your hand once more. 

“Let’s lay back.” you nod and follow him up to his pillows before curling against his side. You bring your hand back to his cock and his fingers wrap around yours. “Like you were doing before. You can go quick or slow.” his stomach tightens as you both pump him. “You can tighten your grip.” he gets out between his teeth as you follow his instruction. 

“What about the part that’s crying?” you look up at him as you swipe your thumb against it. 

“Fuck,” his hips jerk up. “You can do that.” he nods. 

“Okay. Let go. I want to try on my own.” he removes his hand and you both look down and watch your hand stroke against him. You try different speeds making sure to swipe at his crying tip every once in a while and your head snaps up when a soft sound comes from his lips. “Am I doing it right?” you chew your lip. 

“Yes. Gods, yes,” he pants and you watch his stomach flex as you stroke him faster. “Fuck just like that.” he tilts your head up to him. “Can I kiss you?” his hips jerk helplessly up into your hand. The second you nod he’s pressing his lips to yours. 

You lean into him more and he brings a hand up to one of your breasts, pulling a gasp from you. “Is this okay?” he mumbles onto your lips and your quick nod has him kneading against you with more fervor. You bring your other hand down to swipe against his tip while you stroke him quickly. Jace pulls back from your mouth gasping as you continue your movements. 

“Oh,” you look down as his cock starts to cry more. “Is this-

“Yes this is good. So good, fuck,” he curses lowly as his pleasure washes through him. “Okay, you can slow down.” his voice breaks as you continue with your pace. “Please, I-“ he whimpers and feels his legs start to shake as his pleasure still lands against his stomach. He grabs onto your hands and pries them off of him. 

“I’ll get a cloth to clean you up.” you hum and go to sit up. 

“No,” Jace shakes his head. “We can just use..” he looks around not wanting you to leave his bed anytime soon. 

“Mm, we can use my small clothes.” you nod quickly and scoot back to pull them down. He catches a glimpse of your slit and he feels his cock twitch. “Oh,” you look at your small clothes. “It looks like my cunny is crying too?” you look up at him and take in his parted lips. 

“Why would your cunny be crying?” Jace chuckles watching your cheeks flush. 

“I don’t know. It felt warm when I was touching you. Now it feels kinda sticky.” he looks down and sees you rubbing your thighs together. 

“I can,” he clears his throat. “I can help if you want.” you nod at him with a small smile. “Come lay down.” he helps you lean back against his pillows. 

Jace presses his lips to yours softly before licking along your bottom lip. He slowly presses his tongue into your mouth and you gasp holding him closer. As he’s occupying your mouth his fingers roll one of your nipples earning him a soft whimper from you. He brushes his thumb against the hardened peak while you writhe beneath him. His hand travels down your body and he lets one of his fingers ghost up the side of your slit. 

“Jacaerys,” you whine, spreading your legs wider for him. He dips his finger into your wetness and slides it up to your slick bud and you jolt looking up at him. “Mm yes,” you gasp, holding on to his arm as he slowly circles around your bud. He leans down and wraps his lips around one of your nipples and you whine. 

He chuckles as he takes the hardened bud between his teeth and feels more pleasure seep out of you. One of his fingers trails down and slides along your entrance and he groans as he feels it fluttering around nothing. His thumb rubs quickly at your bud as he teases your core all the while his tongue is lashing against your chest. 

“Jace, I don’t know, I-” you whimper arching off the bed when he speeds his fingers up. “Something- I, Jacaerys.” you cry as your pleasure slams through you. 

“How did that feel?” he kisses back up your chest to your mouth. 

“Can you do that again?” you whine into his mouth. “I’ll help you with your cock too. Please, please.” you grab his hardened length once more. 

“I can take care of myself.” he chuckles, removing your hand. “We can try something else.” he leans back to search your face. 

“Yeah, anything.” you nod, chewing your lip. You watch him lay back on the bed and he starts to pull you over. “What do you want me to do?” you tilt your head looking down at him. 

“I want you to sit on my face so I can kiss your cunny.” he chuckles watching your eyes widen. 

“Jace.” he chuckles at your scandalized tone. 

“If you don’t like it we can do something else.” he rubs his thumb into your hip. His chest swells as you start to straddle his head and he places his hands on your hips leading you down to his waiting mouth. He licks up your center and you shutter above him. “Is that okay?” he looks up at your face. 

“Yes.” you pant nodding your head. He repeats the action and listens to your soft whimpers. He pulls your hips down and presses his tongue into your center. “Mm, Jace, I-“ you gasp as your legs start to shake. He slowly starts to rock you against his mouth and broken moans fall from your mouth. 

The sounds you're making are going straight to Jaces cock. He takes one of his hands from your hips and brings it down to his leaking cock. His hips jerk into his hand and he groans into you as you slowly start to rock against his face. The whine that comes from you when he encases your bud only spurs him on more. His tongue flicks against you quickly and your body goes taut. 

“Jacaerys, I- please, Gods please,” you cry out as your pleasure washes through you. 

He continues to lash his tongue faster and your whines and gasps become more high pitched. You’re pleading above him and he tightens his grip on his cock wishing it was your crying cunny. He groans when your legs tighten around his head as your pleasure starts to seep out of you. 

“Jace please, I- It’s,” a small scream comes from you and your eyes roll back as your body is pushed over the edge. He pulls back as your pleasure coats his face and his shoots across his stomach. He slides his tongue against your slit once more and your hand tangles in his hair. 

“Okay, okay.” he chuckles, rubbing his hands up your back. “You doing okay up there?” his fingers trace down your spine. 

“I wanna lay down.” you loosen your fingers in his hair. 

“Then come lay down with me.” he starts to lift you off his mouth. “How are you feeling?” you curl against him and he pulls the covers over the both of you. 

“Good.” you press your lips to his chest. “Tired.” you look up at him and he scoots you up to press his lips to yours. “But I just wanna keep kissing you.” you start to crawl on top of him. 

“We should get some sleep.” he chuckles, digging his fingers into your waist. 

“We will.” you press your chest against his. “Later.” he groans and wraps his arms around your back. He lets his hand slide down to your ass and squeeze. “Jace,” you gasp, pressing against his cock. 

“Fuck.” he digs his fingers into you. “I think we-

“Oh,” you gasp as you rock your hips and feel him slide through your wetness. You press your lips against his and continue your movements as his fingers try to still you. “I like this.” you bury your hands in his hair. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” he kisses down your neck. “We should go to bed.” he mumbles, loosening his grip and letting you rock against him again. 

“I want more.” you whine rubbing yourself on his cock. “Jace please,” you softly plead and he lifts your hips up trailing his hand between your thighs. 

“Let me know if it’s too much okay?” you nod, burying your head in his neck. He circles his finger around your entrance before slowly pushing it in. 

“Mm,” you whimper and his breathing deepens listening to your soft noises. “Jacaerys,” your voice cracks when his thumb brushes against your bud. 

“How does it feel?” he whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. He listens to your small gasps and rubs his other hand on your back. “Tell me.” he coaxes, pumping his finger faster and your legs start to shake. 

“Good,” you whine. “More.” you plead and you gasp feeling a second finger pushing at your entrance. “Yes, Jace,” you moan at the stretch of the second finger and push your hips down onto his hand. 

“Your cunny feels so good.” he chuckles, starting to move his fingers faster. Your gasps become higher pitched and he smirks hearing your pleasure louder than the storm outside. 

“I want your cock.” you lift up from his neck and take in his flushed face. He pushes his fingers faster and watches your eyes close as the most ethereal sound leaves your lips “Please.” your head falls and he feels you pulse around his fingers. 

“Are you satisfied now?” he smirks as you collapse against his chest with your cunny still fluttering around his fingers.

“More.” you plead breathlessly, kissing across his chest. “Please.” you whine when his hips jerk up. 

“You’re sure?” he rolls your hips into his. 

“Yes.” you nod your head. “Please.” you whine letting him lift your hips, he grabs his cock and slides it up your slit. “Ja- mm,” he slowly presses his tip in, groaning at the way your cunny envelops him. 

“Are you okay?” he rubs your back and you nod your head. “You feel so good.” he pushes another inch in while listening to your whimpers. You softly press your hips down and whine at the stretch. 

“Jacaerys,” you whine and he holds his arm around you tighter as he starts to press into you again as you kiss across his chest. He pushes the rest of the way inside lowly cursing when your walls tighten around him. “Feels so full.” you whisper. 

“Let me know when I can move.” his breath catches when you roll your hips. “Gods,” his fingers dig into you. He slowly lifts your hips and slides you back down watching your face twist with pleasure. 

“Yes.” you shake in his arms as he starts a slow pace. 

He pumps into you listening as more whimpers spill from your mouth as you slide against his chest. He’s trying his hardest to hold off on his pleasure but the feel of you squeezing him and the sounds you make are sending him closer to the edge. You start to push your hips down to meet his and he starts to hammer up into you. 

“Jace, I,” you claw into his chest. “I’m, please, Jacaer-“ you let out a small sob as your pleasure rips through you. 

“Fuck,” he groans slamming up into once more before he spills inside of you. You’re fully collapsed on top of him as his hips still softly jerk up into you. Small whimpers come from you as he holds you closely and pets your hair. “Are you ready to go to sleep now?” he hums, lifting you off his cock. 

You nod your head and he pulls the blankets over you before wrapping his arms around your back, letting you sleep on his chest. He presses his lips against your forehead and rubs your back until he hears your even breathing when sleep takes over. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌

noooooo dont let me fall for jace rn

taglist ✍️

A/N: I hate writing smut I'm so cringe w it

but more importantly, happy birthday to @softspiderling :)

MARITAL SPATS WERE SURE TO BE CERTAIN IN ANY UNION. They were more than common in the political arrangements between noble lords and ladies, frequently so that one might even call it a rite of passage in one's marriage, a consummation of sorts. And yet, Jacaerys Velaryon befell with a privilege. He was able to marry for love, and found it in the youngest daughter of Lord Borros Baratheon.

He followed his mother upon a tour throughout the entire realm, to personally oversee each of the kingdoms and begin his practice as Prince of Dragonstone. When they finally arrived at Storm's End, Lord Baratheon was the one to accommodate them and their party. He hosted a great feast in his hall, where Jacaerys first laid eyes on the girl to be his wife.

Y/n was already watching him by the time they shared a glance. A portion of her long hair was braided back and she wore a dress of the deepest grey, completed with accents of gold. Even her sisters made their attempts at first, but he did not care for them. It was the girl who seemed to sway their petulant father with ease, who gifted him her half-smiles that caught his attention.

Every moment he could, he found himself searching for her. She showed him around the castle and taught him the ways of the stormlanders. By the time he was to leave, he was smitten. However, he did not act so quickly, which near destroyed his chances. Lord Borros accepted a proposal from one of his serving Houses. Once Jacaerys caught wind of the betrothal, he mounted his dragon and intercepted.

A rare sort of couple they were, passionate and lustful yet kind and tender. Despite the smaller quarrels, what sort of argument could cut between them?

But that was at the beginning.

It was commonly known that Jacaerys was a studious young man. The rumours of his parentage and the treatment that came with it took a heavy toll, and he spent most of his days trying to prove them wrong. This resulted in the majority of his time spent away from recreational activities.

When he wed Y/n, he had devoted all his time to her. His mother had relieved him of his duties for a precious month and a half. Needless to say, it was hard to keep one's face from reddening should they ever past the new couple's chambers.

This time of bliss flew by in a blink. Jacaerys had no choice but to revert back to his duties. But he did it gradually, to accustom her to the moments he would be away. That was why she treasured mornings.

If she had it in her to wake early, she would steal seconds with him, before he would leave, beg him to stay. Some days she was successful, others, he was adamant.

"Mm," she hummed, stretching out her naked limbs as the first golden rays of morning pierced through her closed eyes.

Jacaerys had worn her out thoroughly. He returned from a Small Council meeting early, and ravished her throughout the night.

She blinked her eyes open, adjusting to waking and light. There her husband stood beside his desk, his behind facing her. She heard a trickling noise, and assumed he was pouring his typical cup of water. Gods, even from the back he was more beautiful than any other man she'd ever seen. The gold highlighted edges on his carved muscles, the edge of his nose. He was the sun to her storm.

He took a sip of the water and turned around, smiling when he realised she was awake. "Sleep well, my love?"

"Deeply," she replied. She opened her arms, and he fell into them with practiced familiarity. They were both completely nude, yet it sparked no arousal. Sometimes, they enjoyed just the closeness of their skin on each other. "Tell me you've no responsibility today."

"I cannot lie to you," he murmured.

She deflated.

"I hate to see you suffer such disappointment," he kissed her head. "I thought last night would make up for my absences."

"'Tis never enough," she inhaled the scent of him deeply, young and fresh, yet masculine with a slight musk.

"I concede," he kissed her temple. "But I cannot."

She sighed in defeat. "Of course."

"Do you not have your own duties to attend to, my love?" he nuzzled his head beneath her jaw, ear pressed up to her chest to hear the beat of her heart.

She chuckled, lifting her chin to fit him. "Tea parties of the like, I'd wager. I care little and less for them."

"Tea parties?"

"Ladies of the Reach and the Westerlands have asked me to attend tea with them," she explained, wrapping her arms around him. "Your mother suggested I accept the invitation."

"And you do not enjoy tea...?"

"I do not enjoy their company," she corrected, an airiness to her voice.

"And how would you know if you enjoy their company or not?" he challenged.

"Because the woman inviting me is one I share a history with," she grumbled. "Father sent me and my sisters west, just before we flowered. I met her there. She was a cruel little bitch and I've hated her ever since. She still sends me letters, you know? Always insisting I come grace her lord husband's seat and meet the children."

"Even women are lickspittles," Jacaerys mused in consideration.

"She is a lickspittle and every terrible thing in this world," she huffed. "Make it so that I do not have to see her."

"If my mother has suggested it, I dare not go against her word," he kissed the spot below her chin. "Especially if it concerns the ways of women."

"What a help you are, husband," she deadpanned.

"Now now," he chuckled into her skin. He gently removed her arms from him and rose. "I do what I can."

"And now you leave me to my own devices," she lamented.

"I did not think my stag of a wife was helpless," he teased, reaching his closet. He opened the oak doors, a row of different-coloured shirts and doublets within.

"Stag," she scoffed. "You would think with a name like Baratheon from the Stormlands would warrant a fiercer sigil."

Jacaerys laughed quietly.

She rose herself, tip-toeing over behind him. She placed her chin on his left shoulder and let out a hum in consideration. "Wear a comfortable undershirt if you're busy today."

"How smart of you, my love," he chuckled. He picked out one of his looser shirts, beige in hue.

"The black doublet," she said. "You always look handsome in black."

"Your flattery will get you nowhere," he warned, yet heeding her suggestion and taking the aforementioned doublet in hand.

"I don't know what you mean."

He rolled his eyes and turned his head sideways to kiss the tip of her nose. "I'm changing in the bathroom. Don't bother trying to follow me inside."

"PRINCESS?"

Y/n blinked out of her daze. She'd taken to a habit of leaving her own conscience sometimes, when a situation did not suffice for her attention. She glanced upward slowly. "Yes?"

Lady Errol hadn't changed a bit since childhood, except for taking on her husband's name. She bore the same stringy auburn hair and slits for eyes. Her voice was as high and squawking as a hatchling, each word of hers piercing into her eardrums.

"I was just discussing the progress of my children," she smiled to all the other ladies. "Bright creatures, are they not? Rose sings beautifully and her brother has begun to wield steel swords."

"You must be a proud mother," she acknowledged.

"I am," Errol beamed. "I plan to be prouder. There's another on the way."

Now that she mentioned it, there was a slight bump to the lady's belly. She spoke a silent prayer to the unborn babe. Such a misfortune to be cursed with such a mother.

"How prosperous," Y/n nodded.

"I am," Lady Errol smirked smugly. "What about you, princess? No children as of late?"

"Jacaerys and I haven't been trying," she replied stonily. "We plan for children but it is early in our marriage and we wish to enjoy it."

"Ah," the lady nodded. "So you are fertile?"

Y/n's fingers curled tighter around the handle of her teacup. "I should hope so."

Her eyebrows furrowed deeper. The way she'd asked the question suggested that her fertility was a common topic of discussion. "Do you mean to tell me you gossip of my ability to bear a child?"

The surrounding girls seemingly paled and shrunk into the walls. Lady Erroll was as unfaltering as ever.

"Never gossiping, princess," she crooned. "We only worry for our future queen. The realm's fate lies in your womb, of course."

Y/n could've slapped her. She didn't know what woman in her right mind would speak that way, especially to someone who ranked above her, even before she'd wed the prince.

"Excuse me," she stood and placed her teacup down. "I find myself burdened with other important pursuits."

She hardly heard their meek goodbyes as she quickly stalked out of that room. Over the years she'd managed to placate her temper. The Baratheons were renowned for it, but as a lady set to inherit the Seven Kingdoms with her husband, she couldn't take these risks. Otherwise, she'd wager Lady Errol would return home with a violet mark on her cheek.

As she set to return to her chambers, a shoulder slammed against her own, her balance faltering. She bit back a frustrated response, having enough with all the shortcomings occurring to her today.

"Apologies!" they called out.

"Jacaerys?"

Her husband in question paused, turning around. His curls might've been dishevelled from the speed he was moving at, his face flushed. "My love. I did not see you. Forgive me."

Immediately, she could feel her remaining anger dissipate and her lips widen. Jacaerys was precisely what she needed now. She skipped ahead to him and wrapped her arms behind his neck. "A happy accident, nonetheless. I am glad to see you, I-"

"It is lovely to see you too, my love, but I cannot now," he cupped her face. "I must be on my way."

"Oh," she deflated. "Well, I wanted to-"

He interrupted her again, bringing his mouth down upon hers and kissing her chastely. "Tonight, all right? I promise."

This was all in the name of duty, she reminded herself. After all, even with the business of the day, he would always be hers at night.

But that would soon prove to be wrong.

The stars winking through the window, the moon was aglow. Y/n felt cool drafts blow through to the room, lifting excess heat from the cloth of her blanket and the fire crackling in the hearth. Jacaerys would come any moment now, and he would hold her and smile good-naturedly as she complained and complained all she wished.

But he never did.

She picked up one of her books as she waited, reaching the very end and realising he still hadn't arrived back. Closing the cover and placing it back on her table, she decided to set out and find him.

Down the hall from their chambers laid his study. Sure enough, a glow creeped out from beneath the slit in the door. She rapped at the wood with her knuckles, gently pushing it open.

"What?" he snapped.

"Jacaerys," she chided. "It's me."

"Sorry," he muttered out gruffly.

"I thought you were coming to bed early," she said softly.

"I couldn't tonight," he replied.

"What's all this?" she gestured to the stack of pages flooding his desk.

"The Small Council makes me bear all the tedious paperwork," he complained. "My mother was abed today, and I could not refuse them. They cloak their excuses with concerns for me, that this will help me become a better king when I ascend the throne. Now I am forced to finish them by tomorrow eve."

"You should stand up to them," she said. "You are the crown prince, Jacaerys. You cannot allow them to walk upon you as if they will not bend their knee one day. Gods forbid it, they could be bending their knee tomorrow."

"I know!" he snapped.

Y/n's mouth closed, his outburst surprising her.

"I'm sorry-" they chimed in unison.

Jacaerys approached her, his smile tired and small. "Look at us."

"Indeed," she sighed. "I am sorry. I pushed you. I went too far."

"I snapped when you did not deserve it," he returned. "For that, I am sorry too."

He took the sides of her arms and drew her closer. "Why don't you go to bed, my love? I'll join you shortly."

"Really?" she chuckled.

"Really," he moved his hand up and down over her arm. "Go on. 'Tis late."

She kissed his cheek in goodbye, leaving him to finish up.

He remained true to his word. She was half-asleep, but felt his warm build snuggle beneath the blankets next to her. She slept well.

OVER THE WEEKS, Jacaerys was slipping through her fingers like sand. His workload had skyrocketed immensely, since Rhaenyra's illness stretched on for weeks. The queen would live of course, but her current state prevented her from even forming a political thought. With the absence of her power, the Small Council decided to take advantage of this.

She told him countlessly to rest. He needed to. She could see bags form under his eyes and his skin growing paler. He brushed her off. A king should know to make sacrifices, to feel suffering.

Y/n was returning from the kitchens, a basket in hand. She'd asked the cook to prepare his favourite stew and fresh bread to go along with it, and if she was fast enough, she could pass it to him. She'd hardly seen him. He would wake too early and sleep too late.

Her steps were hurried, the stone halls a blur in her passing vision, melting together. But not that shock of auburn hair.

"Lady-"

With her husband.

"I was just talking with the prince," Lady Errol grinned. "He tells me he is very busy."

"He is," she replied coldly.

"And yet he's taken time out of his day to stop and converse with me," she crooned. "Truly the perfect prince. Such a gentleman."

Y/n eyed him. Jacaerys' face was stiff and unreadable, and she didn't like that.

"Well, I thank you, my prince," Lady Errol curtseyed. She completely disregarded her princess before she hobbled off.

"Is that stew?" Jacaerys questioned, peeking down at her basket.

"Is it?" she began to walk.

He followed, frowning. "Is it not meant for me?"

"I don't know," she grumbled back.

Their chambers were a short way away, and it took no time for her to burst through the door and place the basket down upon one of the tables. Jacaerys closed it.

"You're being disagreeable," he commented.

"I'm being disagreeable?"

"You are," he retorted. "What have I done?"

"What have you done?" she repeated incredulously. "You've been ignoring me for weeks, and yet you have all the time in the world to cavort with fucking Errol?"

"How can it be ignoring when I have no choice?" he exclaimed. "And I was not cavorting with her. She is one of my subjects, and even if I didn't want to, she refused to-"

"Yet you have no time for your own wife?" she scoffed. "Let us tell true, Jacaerys. That conversation could easily end were you not weak."

His jaw stiffened at that. A vein was making prominence at his forehead, and she saw his knuckles pale as they clenched.

She shook her head. "Do not deny it. You cannot defend yourself against your own mother's council, even when you outrank them all in her absence, and you cannot tell that harlot to go away."

His stare had hardened, those golden pools of his irises turned to stone. Guilt creeped into her blood, claws stretching out to pierce her flesh. But her pride was unwavering. Baratheons would never sway.

"I am not the only weak one here."

"What?"

"Much to say about my weakness yet you yourself cannot go a day without my attentions," his eyes narrowed.

"So I am weak for asking of the basest of needs?" she spat.

"By that extension, I am weak for adhering to duty and responsibility?" he challenged . "Do not start when you contradict your own supposed truth. At least what I do isn't fruitless. At least my so called 'weakness' amounts to something."

He was calling her useless. Maybe she deserved it, but he was right. His weakness had result. She could say nothing more.

His expression softened. Remorse had finally found him. "Y/n-"

"I will sleep in my old chambers tonight," she whispered.

EVEN IN HER OLD CHAMBERS, Y/n found no peace. They were substantially-sized rooms where she resided during her betrothal, before she and Jacaerys were permitted to sleep together. It didn't stop him anyway. He would creep through Maegor's tunnels to find her, and in those rooms would they share sweet kisses and words of admiration. Even apart, he plagued everything.

She couldn't look at him now. So she devised a plan.

Jacaerys rose early, hence he took his meals early. She would arrive an hour later, knowing how long he took to eat. His days were mostly filled with study and meetings, and she knew his paths to the places he would go for them. She avoided them.

Yet all this avoidance was only evidence that she knew and cared for him that well.

An irony had befell their week apart. King's Landing stormed heavily. Droplets had begun to fall after she'd departed Jacaerys, and she nearly cackled upon seeing them.

Each day now for six days bore dark grey skies scattered with thick, ashy clouds. The rain pounded mercilessly upon the earth, with lightning so shocking it lit up the atmosphere. It felt like home.

The thunder was quieter today, the rain light. She'd decided to take a stroll through the gardens and clear her head. The dragon and the stag had been at war, and perhaps it was her time to apologise. Still, her pride was ever evident.

A deep rumble disrupted her walk. This meant the coming of lightning, and she would take no risk. Hurrying, she made it into the walls of the castle.

She took deep inhales with each step. The smell of rain took her back to childhood. She didn't realise how fast was her pace.

CLANG!

That was not thunder, rather the kisses of steel.

Y/n peeked out behind a thick stone pillar. Jacaerys had the tip of his blade pointed against an opponent. The younger boy backed down and his prince dismissed him with thanks. She assumed he would leave the training yard too, but he instead turned to a dummy and began to hack away.

Besides the frustration of the fact he was endangering himself, he looked infuriatingly beautiful. His dark curls were wet and sticking to his forehead, his shirt clinging to his skin. She assumed his nose was reddened by the chill, but his nose was always easily rosy.

She snapped out her daze. He was a stupid fucking enchanter.

"Jacaerys!" she called out, against the whipping winds and pattering raindrops. She hadn't uttered his name for so long.

Naturally, she was met with ignorance.

"Jacaerys!" she repeated, her tone forming into something more direct and sharp.

Jacaerys himself rolled his eyes and turned to finally face her. "Now I am spoken to?"

"Now is not the time for this," she hissed. "Get inside."

"Why should I?" he lunged forward, taking a slice at the dummy.

"Do not be stubborn," she scoffed, taking a step closer, though still remaining sheltered. "This storm will be terrible, Jace. I advise you to come inside."

"I am all right," he grumbled. "Leave me."

"You would argue with me on this?" she bristled.

"Perhaps I would," he raised his brows, knocking his sword pummel at the figure's 'face'.

"The clouds are almost black," she started. "It is cold. You are putting yourself at risk, Jacaerys."

"Because I'm weak? I cannot handle a bit of rain?"

"No!"

She huffed and took a breath. Y/n marched outside, finally close to her husband again, despite under circumstances she did not particularly enjoy. Her hand flung out to grab his wrist before he could make another strike with his sword. Taking hold of the handle, she tossed it aside. Jacaerys' eyes widened, gaze following his weapon as it fell.

Her chest perceptibly rose and fell, mouth tight as she faced him.

"You care now?" he muttered.

"I've always cared," she replied.

By a fraction, his nostrils flared. He blinked. Once. Twice. He moved forward.

His hand was trembling as he lifted it to cup her cheek. Relief exploded in her chest, to feel his touch again. His other hand followed, fingers stroking her skin. Jacaerys lowered his face to hers in a desperate kiss.

She was freezing. Her hair and clothes were sopping wet. But none of it mattered. Her husband's lips were warm and soft, his tongue slipping within her mouth to taste her after what felt like an eternity. He'd brought his arm to hook around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I'm sorry," she managed to get out between their kisses. "You're not- you're not weak, Jacaerys."

He seemed to move harder, tangling his fingers in her hair. "You're far from useless. I was cruel."

They kissed and kissed and kissed, simple, pure, unadulterated yearning. What was leftover from their separation. Y/n held onto him tight, his weight stumbling and pushing her to balance against the wall.

"Oh my darling," he muttered. "We are fools."

"Utter fools," she agreed, hugging his neck and leaning upon the stone bricks.

He caressed the side of her face, pulling apart the wet strands in front to scan her features. "I am never going a day without you again, my darling. At least not because of our own devices."

"I will not deny you, my love," she smiled.

He dove back in for her lips, his hands roaming the curves of her. He reached low to pull up her thick skirts, heavy from the water they'd soaked up. His palm was warm against her thighs, running up and down.

Her eyes closed. This was all she needed. Surrounded by storms, touched by her lover. She revelled in it, drizzles sliding down her cheeks, Jacaerys so close she could smell him above other earthy scents.

"Lift your leg for me," he requested.

She complied to his words, her leg lifting. He held it in place and moved her skirts to ease his access, grazing his fingertips over her small clothes. She shivered.

He grinned when he realised the fabric was already damp with her arousal. "Gods, I have missed you."

Jacaerys was taking his time with her, skimming his finger just beneath the hem of the garment or dragging his nail lightly up and down her upper thigh. Her breathing was rapid, unable to bear his incessant teases.

He was not cruel, and in unison with another hungry kiss, his finger plunged into her moist cunt.

"Oh-" her jaw fell, feeling such solace at being filled by him once more.

Jacaerys smiled, gently pecking her brow. His free hand reached up to push lightly against her clothed breast, eliciting a sigh from his wife. Underneath her skirts, his thumb extended upward to circle her pearl. A pang of pleasure tingled up her core. He was as skilled as ever, winding her just the right way to gift her satisfaction.

He slid another finger in, beginning to pump them in and out at a steady pace. She was so sensitive, so responsive. He slipped in another now, causing such a delicious ache. He pressed his thumb firmer against her nub, all digits working in tandem.

From her came a string of pleas, to which he complied. He manoeuvred faster, harder. Soon enough, her climax washed upon her. It was not the largest of them, not one that left her boneless and breathless, but bore a certain satisfaction stemming from their reunion. He suckled her release from fingers unhurriedly, groaning at the taste.

Jacaerys threaded his hands at her scalp, cradling her to his shoulder.

BOOM!

They looked up at the skies above them, lightning streaking. The clouds were near black now and the rain grew ever more harsh. He laughed heartily, and took her by the hand. "Run!"

Y/n erupted into giggles, the showers pouring down in terrible torrents. Desire still thrummed within her, along with an insurmountable feel of love. She was careful with her steps, ensuring she would not slip upon the stones.

They made it under shelter, doused fabrics dripping upon the floors. Jacaerys couldn't stop his expressions of joy, touching her skin and wiping away the droplets clouding her eyes. He smirked now, his own arousal reigniting once his bearings were regained. Oh his beautiful, beautiful wife. "Come," he tugged her along. "Let us finish this elsewhere."

Jacaerys Velaryon Tag List: @jacespookiebear @kimm4710 @januarybella @jacesvelaryons @diiickbrainn

@ireneispunk @mirukkuvanilla @jacaerysgf @aegonswife @princessbellecerise

@vee-mage @bryscorner @xxselenite @eldrith @v3lary0ns

@astrxq @benjinotes

A/N: First proper smut fic I had the worst time writing this oh my god so much respect to smut writers bc I was suffering and cringing the whole way

Y/N TRULY LOVED HER HUSBAND. Why should she not? He was everything a woman would want, high or lowborn. Jacaerys possessed sweet brown eyes, plump lips and his perfectly sharp nose. His body was a pleasure by itself, but it was not simply his features that captured her heart. He treated her reverently, as if she were goddess incarnate upon the earth, the pinnacle of his adoration. And she was. But not the pinnacle of his time. 

He was a diligent creature, one who would dedicate his hours to anything should he wish. And as much as he gave her, his princely duties tugged him away, a wave pulling the shells from the shore. He was so responsible. He was perfect. Yet she missed him, she couldn't help but embrace her selfishness. And she did not feel shame for it, no, for it was her humanity, and a wife deserved the attention 

The day was hot, slightly hotter than usual. The sun beat down on the city, bright and golden. Jacaerys was out on the yard, sword in hand. He'd been busy for a fortnight now, and she yearned for him. He would be gone during the days and returned late at night. 

Her handmaid trailed behind her dutifully as Y/n strolled toward the canopy. Her shoes crunched against the scattered, tiny rocks. She'd brought a lacy fan with her, wrist moving delicately back and forth. The gentle air cooled her warm skin, though with this temperature she wished for nothing more than to be doused in a bucket of ice. Her handmaid even dressed her lighter today, in a shoulder-less dress made of silk. She ducked below the shade, taking her place on a sturdy chair to observe the scene unfolding. 

Her husband had taken a house knight to spar, a man built similarly to him. They both wore simple leather pieces of armour on their chests and arms, equipped with blunted swords. Jacaerys had taken notice of her arrival, head turning to give her a grin before going back to his razor-sharp focus. The knight threw the first blow, lunging and thrusting his blade to the prince's neck. Expertly, Jacaerys dodged it with a side step and brought his own sword up to meet the other. The yard rang with a CLANG! 

Jacaerys laughed heartily. At that, she smiled. His laugh was one of life's smaller pleasures that brought tingles to her heart. The two men drew both of their weapons back, back into their positions. They circled each other slowly, prowling, eyes darting for the slightest movement from the other. This time, Jacaerys went first. He raised his sword at the knight's left, having his right arm fly to block the strike. Her mouth opened in an 'o'. She saw what he was doing now. Her husband kicked his opponent's right leg, when his weight had shifted to the left, and he went tumbling down. Jacaerys stood above him, blade pointed at his throat. 

"I yield," the knight conceded. 

"Good man," Jacaerys offered his hand and lifted him to his feet. "Thank you." 

"My prince," said the knight, bowing his head. 

Y/n and her handmaid clapped sensibly. Joy was evident on the princess' face. She rose from her seat, smug he had gone to her moments after his session. Now she had his attention. 

It took only a few steps for her to reach him, as he'd hurried right away. 

"My lovely," he chuckled breathlessly, snaking his arms around her waist. He brought his mouth upon hers, moving them in a deep kiss. He moved to her cheek, lavishing that part of her now and rubbing his nose against her temple. 

"You're sweaty," she pointed out, but there was no trace of disappointment on her features. 

"Well I am hard at work here," he insisted, tone light. "Unlike you, I practise in the yard in the sun rather than sitting in the cool shade enjoying my food and drink." 

"Well you must be able to protect me, no?" she reached her hand out to the side. The handmaid placed a clean cloth in it, and Y/n thanked her. She raised her hand and dabbed the cloth against his brow. "I'm quite valuable, you know." 

"I protect the realm, my love," he reminded, though he did not sound reprimanding. "And you are not valuable. You are priceless. My most precious." 

A girlish giggle sounded from her as she finished removing the sweat from him, girlish and sweet like a summer maid. He kissed her again, though she pulled away after only a few seconds. "Come." 

Their fingers tangled and she led him to the canopy. Her maid had already arranged a seat for him, and placed out an assortment of snacks and beverages. 

"For me?" he inquired. 

"Of course," she replied. 

He pecked her cheek and took the handle of the chilled jug. In his goblet he poured the cold water, immediately guzzling it down. "I like your dress." 

She preened. "It should be a more common fashion. The noble ladies looked at me like I'd gone outside naked, but they were the ones sweating like hogs in Dorne with their high necks and sleeves. I believe we should follow Dornish practices, actually. They seem quite content with themselves." 

"I will make suggestions to my mother," Jacaerys nodded. "The Dornish are important. We herald ourselves 'the Seven Kingdoms' but truly we are six, are we not? I hope to be united, especially once I am king." 

"Indeed." 

She liked their little talks and discussions. He actually listened to her, took in her input. He saw her as a level intellectual, not like when she was a child. She read the whole library in her father's home, but during his own meetings he would discard her, and remind her girls were to be seen and not heard. 

"You will make the most wonderful queen," Jacaerys reached for her hand and pressed a kiss to each finger.

"And you will be a wonderful king," she responded. "We will be Jaehaerys and Alysanne. But better." 

"If you say so, my love," he agreed, kissing her palm. 

She pulled her hand back, taking the glass of iced milk and a small spoon. She dug the spoon into the slushy substance and raised it up to his lips. 

His head cocked, mouth stretching wide. "I'm not a child." 

"Indulge me," she pleaded. 

Jacaerys huffed in good nature, but he leaned forward and swallowed the iced milk. It was refreshing and sweet, a good treat for the current heat. He thought it was not so bad, and laughed lightly at her pleased expression. 

She scooped up her own portion of it and ate it herself. She slid the spoon slowly out of her mouth, licking away the excess on her skin. She made sure her eyes remained locked with his. 

His suspicion rose. 

"What schemes do you have brewing?" he queried. 

"Why nothing," she replied innocently. 

"Temptress," he whispered. He got off the chair, pulling the side of her face over and giving her a final kiss. "I have meetings after this and I'll be in my study tonight. Do not sleep late."

He was about to leave, but she held onto his arm. "I miss feeling you in our bed. Do you not have time for me anymore?" 

"Of course I do," he frowned. "I am truly sorry I cannot make more time for you. But I have duties. Mother has troubles in the West at the moment, but I promise once this is over I shall dedicate all aspects of my time to you. I promise." he squeezed both her hands and was back to sparring. 

He left his wife with a pout on her face and disappointment stirring in her bones. She did not deny the legitimacy of his promises. He kept each one he made, whether it be in an instance or over a longer period. Never had he broken anything he'd sworn. But she was simply a girl, a girl with needs for the man she loved. 

"Jayne," Y/n called her over. She started to walk back to the inside of the Red Keep, pace fast. Her handmaid hurriedly picked up her feet, meeting her mistress' side. 

Jacaerys waved once he saw her go, to which she gave her own listless wave. She would see her wants to completion. 

IT WAS THE HOUR OF THE BAT NOW. Jacaerys, true to his word, did not return to their bedchamber at any normal time. Y/n's plan would be set now. Well, it was not some sort of elaborate project that she had taken meticulously, more so she would have to be careful in her actions. 

She looked into her vanity mirror. Her hair was set in place, the neckline to her nightdress low, and her skin perfumed. He should have no resistance. 

Before leaving, she equipped herself with a candelabrum. The tiny flames managed to light up the dark halls of the castle. The heat still lingered, even in the night air, and an additive warmth emanated from the candles. Beads of sweat gathered at her chest. 

His study was not far from their bedchamber. She tread down a hallway in her slippers, taking a right turn. The door was made of wood with thin hinges. She pushed through it and it creaked. 

Jacaerys looked up from his papers. There was a neat stack on his left and an untidier stack on the right. His fingers were stained with the black of ink smudges, and his knuckles bore tinges of red and purple. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" 

"I couldn't sleep," she shrugged, placing the candelabrum at the corner edge of his desk. 

"That is no excuse to be wandering around here at night interrupting me," he shot back. 

That certainly wasn't the reaction she had expected from him, and her face shifted from its nonchalance. He noticed it right away and dove into his apologies. "Gods, the nerve of me. I think my fatigue is finally catching up to me, my love. Come here." 

She slid onto his thigh as he wrapped his left arm around her waist. "I forgive you." 

"Thank you," he breathed a sigh of relief. "I am not deserving of your lenience, gods know it." 

"You were simply tired, as everyone gets," she patted his hair. "With twice the burden." 

"I shall finish this last paper and we may retire, all right?" 

"Very well." 

Jacaerys did not push her away, instead allowing her to stay on his thigh whilst he went through his work. He picked up the scroll in his hand, eyes scanning over each written word. She saw his forehead crinkle and his lips purse. His grip tightened on the paper. 

Lowering her head, her lips touched his neck. 

"Y/n..." 

She ignored him, moving all around the area. 

He groaned softly, his body slumping against his seat. It was just what he needed but his guilt called out to him. He should finish what he was doing. And yet... Well he had ignored her for a time now...

"Relax, my love," she cooed, ghosting over his jaw. 

That felt good. Jacaerys fought it. He had much to finish and he would have to battle with the consequences of his procrastination in the morning. But was it truly procrastination if he was entertaining his wife? Surely the act of that held far more merit than signing or writing mediocre letters. He surrendered. 

"Fucking vixen," Jacaerys hissed. 

He took her by the hips and hefted her onto the desk. She laughed. It was glorious. She looked behind her, brushing away any papers beneath or near her. They flew up and descended gently, unlike the jarring clatter of ink pots and quill nibs. Normally, he'd chide her for it, and yet he was not, just as she intended. That was how she knew she had him exactly where she wanted him. As soon as her head turned back he crashed into her, kissing harshly. His tongue probed into her mouth, swiping at her own. She bit at his bottom lip, eliciting a deep noise. 

She hummed pleasantly once his kisses migrated to her face, sliding down her neck and under her jaw. Her eyes closed, hands entangling through his silken hair. 

"I shouldn't be doing this, you know," he muttered, right beside her ear. The heat of his breathing sent an eruption of gooseflesh on her biceps. "Of course you know." 

So he did see through her plans. It mattered not now, not when he was already stuck in her clutches. The hardness pressed against the side of her knee proved that.

Jacaerys went back to her neck, using his teeth and tongue now. He needed to hear those little cries and sounds that motivated him so much. His hands travelled down her body, feeling up her curves and ridges. Down down down. His fingers reached the hem of her skirt, toying with it until she impatiently rucked it up herself. 

"Ah," he tutted. "You started this, but we will go about this my way." 

His hand ran up her calf, then her thigh. She sighed, her touch heedlessly worshipping his face. He chastely kissed her palm, hand sliding up further to where her heat laid. His middle finger hooked over the top of her smallclothes. 

Any moment now, she thought. It was foolish really, to think he would give her relief so soon. 

He was a terrible tease, touching her stomach, her upper thigh. He tugged at her smallclothes, never doing away with them. However her little whines softened his judgement. Jacaerys grinned, finally pulling them off in one fell swoop. The flimsy piece of fabric dropped to her ankles. 

His fingertip circled around her pearl and her opening, his smirk intensifying when he drew it back to see it covered in the glistening remnants of her arousal. "Already?"

She nodded listlessly. She didn't care. It was long past their times with each other when they would bumble and blush in newlywed fashion. 

"I am a wonderful husband," he stated. 

"Yes," she panted. 

"Who else would give in to your desires so easily?" he murmured. "Hm? Who else could handle having such a wanton little wife?" 

"No one," she agreed frantically. "Only you." 

"Good," he affirmed. His finger plunged into her depths. 

Y/n cried out, relief flooding her system. He was so skillful at this. He knew her so well. He prodded against the sweet spot deep in her, leaving her choking and gripping at his shoulder. She nearly wept happily, feeling another of his fingers entering her. 

Whilst his right hand was occupied, he decided to put the left to use. He wrenched the neckline of her nightgown down, freeing her breasts. He took one in his grip, thumbing the sensitive flesh and testing a squeeze. She groaned, the dual stimulation on the parts of her body sending her into a daze. 

Jacaerys worked diligently, now extending his thumb to circle her sensitive bud. He took her breast into his mouth, tongue swirling over the peak. Pleasure burst at her core, her release building quicker and quicker. She moaned softly, and he increased his pace. Her climax rolled over her, drenching his digits. He removed them, placing them in his mouth after releasing her nipple and sucking her essence clean off. 

She took in a deep breath, still reeling from the prior events. He was already busy unbuckling his belt. 

Jacaerys pulled down his underclothes, his hefty cock now free and hard. With ease, he manoeuvred her around, having her bent over the desk. He positioned himself behind her, two hands reaching for the sides of her waist. Finally, he pushed in. She gasped as she felt the familiar, delicious sting, trying to find some semblance of stability as he began his aggressive thrusts. 

The air was permeated with the scent of their lust. The sounds of squelches and slapping were obscene. Jacaerys was unlike any other night they'd been together, now driven and severe. She felt the pleasure crest once more, and her desperation grew with it. Y/n reached down, attempting to reach her nub. 

"Do not touch yourself," Jacaerys commanded. His tone held so much assertion she feared for what would happen if she went through with it. Immediately, she tore her hand away from herself. 

"Please-" she rasped, her cunt clenching around him as she grew closer and closer. 

His thrusts grew sloppier and rapid. His low grunts stirred flurries in her belly. It pleased her knowing she pleased him. 

With a final cry, she toppled over the edge, her limbs trembling and her mouth stuck open. Jacaerys followed her seconds after, fucking his seed into her. He pulled out after ensuring he had taken proper root in her, tucking himself back into his pants. An heir was needed after all. 

The prince slumped back onto his chair. He had undone his shirt, too much heat present in his flesh. His wife wobbled on her legs when she stood. She pulled her dress up over her chest again and adjusted her skirts. She turned around and took a perch on his thigh, leaning down and settling on his sticky chest. 

"This is the last of your schemes," he warned, kissing her forehead. "I'm a busy man. I cannot afford to give in to you so many times." 

"But you don't," she pointed out. 

"I just did." 

"It was the first time." 

"I am incredibly lenient with you," he defended. "You said so yourself." 

"I was agreeing, I did not say anything," she corrected. "And I was waiting to be fucked." 

"Seven Hells," he muttered, cheeks flushed. 

"You love me." 

He didn't answer her, but she knew he was smiling. He pressed his lips to her temple, his confirmation. 

Jacaerys Velaryon would always be a man of duty. He would forever uphold the responsibilities of the realm and his station. He would attend every meeting, listen to every trouble, and yet he realised he would let it all burn for the woman he loved most.

Tag List: @jacespookiebear @kimm4710 @januarybella @jacesvelaryons @diiickbrainn @mirukkuvanilla @ireneispunk @jacaerysgf

Since you arrived at Dragonstone, you grew more and more fond of your arranged marriage. Particularly you grew fond of the man you were to marry. Jacaerys was a kind and patient man. Something you did not think you would be fortunate enough to marry. 

You and he often spent your free moments looking for solitude from the talks of war and politics. Soon, you and he would spend time on a small patch of land separated from Dragonstone, hardly an island. It was only about twenty miles wide if that. But it became your haven. You could spend hours away from the weight of the war. 

You missed your home, but here on the island sand, you found comfort in the presence of Jace and Vermax. And Jacaerys found the same in you. 

That day you had been away from the castle for hours, and you knew sooner rather than later, someone would come looking for you both. You sighed as you tore your eyes from the calming and consistent waves crawling up and down the sands of the beach. You turned to look at your betrothed who lay on the sand with his eyes closed. Desperately trying to push out the fact your time was running slim. 

You sat beside him, running your hand through his hair trying to gain his attention. You lay down, getting closer to him, “My prince.” You whispered teasingly. 

“Mm?” He hummed furrowing his brows but refusing to open his eyes.

You continued to play with his brown curly hair as you smiled softly, “We’ve been out of Castle far too long.” You said begrudgingly. You knew it was time to return though you were not looking forward to the return of somber and formal interaction between you and high lords. 

Jacaerys groaned, “Ah,” he rubbed his eyes before finally and reluctantly opening them, “I can’t find sleep there.” 

You breathed a laugh, “You seem to find it well enough out here.” your fingers finally left his hair as you were about to stand. 

As soon as Jacaerys felt your touch abandon him, he grabbed a hold of your hand and pulled it close to his chest. “Only because you are beside me,” he said with an earnest gaze. 

You understood him. He had an unbearable weight on top of himself, one similar to the one on top of you. You knew he could only find pure comfort in the presence of something… familiar and uncomplicated, love. You thought on it for a moment, wishing to help him. “Perhaps you could sleep beside me tonight.” You said without any real thought of how it might have sounded until Jacaerys looked at you with wide, but excited eyes. “Meaning nothing so bold-” You choked on your own air as you corrected yourself.

“Course you did not,” Jacaerys said quickly with a shake of his head as he sat up. 

You sat quietly for a moment, “What of it then?” you asked.

Jacaerys looked towards you trying to hide a smile, “I cannot promise I won’t feel temptation.” 

You smirked, “Temptation?” You scooted closer to him, “Temptation for what?” You teased. It was not a secret to either of you that you both wished to hold closer intimacy with one another. Though Jacaerys was not a pious man he did take the opinions of high lords and ladies seriously. They already thought lowly of the bastard prince, he would not have them think lowly of their future queen. He wished to protect your character and your reputation. Though you held the opinions of high lords and ladies to almost no value at all, you reluctantly respected his wish. 

“You tease me?” He asked faining offense. 

“Do I?” You pretended to be shocked by the accusation, but soon your facade was wiped away by an earnest smile, “Sleep in a chair beside the bed if you must. I merely wish for you to find sleep.” You said plainly without any hint of lust or jest. Simply wishing to help him in any way you could. 

He held onto your hand slightly tighter, “What if someone were to find out I was sneaking into your chambers?” He asked with a smirk, teasing you back. 

You scrunched up your nose and scoffed as you looked out into the ocean, “Fuck what those high lords and their hypocrisies think.” 

Jacaerys stifled a laugh, “Is that any way for a queen to speak?” He asked as he leaned in closer to you.

You shook your head and smirked, “Not queen yet. Still a Lady, and hardly that.” 

“You are very much a Lady.” He mumbled as his danced over your facial features and down over your body. 

You pushed his shoulder and stifled a laugh, “You’re a dog.” You said scrunching up your nose at him. Feigning disgust, when really you felt butterflies in your stomach. 

He playfully pulled you closer, “And you a wolf.” he said as his eyes sparkled in yours. “May I kiss you?” He asked softly. 

You smiled, “You needn’t ask.” You said as if he asked you a ridiculous question. 

He returned your smile, “I like to hear you say ‘yes’.” He said as he stared longingly at your lips. 

He didn’t move an inch, waiting for your approval. You rolled your eyes and with a smirk, you conceded, “Yes.” And his that, Jacaerys pulled your lips into his with a hand grasping at the back of your head gently. You could not wait until your wedding, so eager for this man to become yours in the sight of the Gods. All you could think of each time your lips met was how rare this kind of love must be. 

Though you could not think of it long, your haven was interrupted by the loud and shrill sounds of a horn. “What was that?” You questioned as you looked over to Dragonstone.

Jacaerys looked over to Dragonstone as well. He knew the horn was to call members of the council together in an urgent meeting. Though it was only used when in times of critical importance. He took your hands and helped you stand, “We’d better get back.” He said, trying to keep you calm, but also trying to return as soon as possible.

“Has something terrible happened?” You asked as Jacaerys ushered you over to Vermax as quickly as he could. 

As Jacaerys helped you climb on top of the green beasted he shook his head, “I cannot be certain.” He spoke honestly, and strapped you into the saddle before he climbed on, “If it has, I promise you will not be affected.” He said in an attempt to comfort any anxieties you might have been feeling. 

You couldn’t understand how that was meant to help, “If you are affected, I am affected.” 

Jacaerys however, did not respond, merely he pulled on the reins of Vermax as he took off into the sky, set on returning to Dragonstone. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

Upon your return, you were rushed into the council chamber. You were told of a vile act that had taken place within the Keep, an attack on the Greens. Normally this would have been a beneficial evil. But this time, the act was so gruesome it was hardly an attack on the Greens' claim, it was an attack on the Blacks’. 

Two men snuck into the chamber of ‘Queen’ Helena’s children. Maester Gerardys relaid the rest of the story to the Queen and the rest of the council, “It is yet unclear how the Keep itself was breached. The boy’s head was severed from his body. Thousands witnessed the procession.” 

You felt sickened by the description of the attack on the babe. You placed a hand on your chest, over your heart. Jacaerys took your hand and held it under the table. Wishing to comfort you while hiding your emotions from the High Lords. 

Rhaenyra shocked spoke with disbelief, “And they are accusing me of having a hand in this?”

Maester Gerardys nodded, “It appears so. There have been messages sent to that effect. Throughout the realm.”

Rhaenyra scoffed, “We must send our own messages, denying this vile allegation.”

“I will do so at once, but I am not sure they will be received in good faith.” The Maester said cautiously. 

Rhaenyra paid no mind to the comment, “And we must double our guard, here and in Driftmark. There will be swift retribution in one form or another–”

“I have seen to it, Your Grace.” One of the lords spoke. The idea made you feel weary. She was right, it did not matter whether she did have a hand in the murder or not. The Greens would blame her for it and would see to it that they were avenged. 

Jacaerys stood from his seat, “Let me fly out on Vermax.” Rhaenyra looked at him with concern. Jacaerys however spoke with courage and ambition, “Rhaenys is needed in the Gullet and I can watch for movements from Kings Landing.”

“No,” Rheynera said quickly with a shake of her head as she turned her attention back to the matter at hand. 

She saw Jace as a fragile and delicate thing, something she could not jeopardize more than she already had. You understood how she felt, she’d already lost one son on dragon's back she didn’t wish to lose another. And if you were honest, you were somewhat grateful for it. 

Though you could see the frustration, and embarrassment grow on the expression of Jacaerys’s face. As he sat back down you placed a hand on the back of his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. Just enough for him to ground himself back into reality, and know you were with him. 

“It must be said that the damage to our position is immeasurable, at a time when we most need loyalty to our cause.” Some high lord spoke again through the tension building in the room. 

“But it’s a lie.” Rhaeynera scoffed, finding the accusation ridiculous, “Having lost my own son, that I would inflict such a thing on Helaena, of all people. An innocent!” She proclaimed.  

Alfred Broome, a high lord who had grown too comfortable with his position began, “The death of Prince Lucerys was a shock and an insult. A mother so aggrieved might, naturally, seek relief in retribution-” 

As you felt anger rising in your chest, the Queen shot up from her seat and charged towards the arrogant man. “Are you suggesting, Ser Alfred, that my grief drove me to order the decapitation of a child?” She nearly spat her words at him in disgust.

“I merely thought, perhaps, an action taken in haste.” He stammered, 

“Mind yourself.” You said out of near instinct. Your anger had gotten the better of you but it seemed well warranted. 

Her grace stood staring down the overly confident man. However, exhibiting far more strength than you would have had, she sat herself down. 

Once she was sat she looked over towards her husband and uncle, Prince Daemon. You felt weary of the man ever since you had heard the stories of his brutal and seemingly erratic behavior. Daemon now in this council meeting, discussing the beheading of an innocent babe was smirking. 

It made your stomach turn as it did Rhaenyra’s. Her face dropped, and she then dismissed the council meeting. 

Jacaerys angered by his mother’s decision to coddle him, stormed off down one of the halls. Rather than follow after him you allowed him to go his own way, you decided to wait in your chambers for his blood to cool. However, it was not long til you yourself were summoned by the Queen. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As you walked down the hall towards the council room, you noticed an enraged Daemon storming out of that very room. 

You stuck to the stone wall and kept your eyes on the ground. You never felt particularly welcomed in his presence. As he stormed past you he did not speak a word nor did he look at you at all. 

It was times like this when you wished you were back home in the North. 

As you entered the council chamber, you noticed a broken glass of wine on the floor, and the Queen wiping tears from her eyes. 

You entered the chamber cautiously, “You wished to see me, your grace?” you asked softly, not wishing to upset her further. 

She seemed somewhat startled by your sudden presence. She stood, wiping another tear away. “Our position has been weakened as you know.” She said as she walked towards you, “You are a great asset to us, the greatest we have now.” Her words hung heavy over your head, but you knew it was true. “Send a raven to your brother, Cregan Stark. Please try to persuade him to send more men. We need the North more than ever.” You nodded, and just as you turned your back to her, about to leave she spoke once more “You must know I did not order this.”  

You turned back around to face her, “Never.” You shook your head and spoke with conviction. You stepped closer to her, “I shall send the raven at once. My brother will know this is merely a tragedy and a vile rumor.” 

She took hold of your wrist and hand, gripping onto you tightly, “I depend on you.” As she spoke you could hear the desperation in her voice as it wavered. You could tell her words were true. 

Rhaenyra was gladdened to have you there. You would be Queen one day, you had to witness the hardships of that role. And she was grateful to see you could weather them, and stay loyal to her house.

You bowed your head to her with the utmost respect you could offer, “I’ll not fail you, your Grace.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The day was long. 

Daemon had fled Dragonstone on Caraxes. You had no knowledge of where he was to be going when he would return, or what this meant for your soon-to-be husband’s future. The Queen had fled Dragonstone as well. For what purpose you did not know. But you were confident she would return. It was not in her nature, nor her character to abandon her children. 

The castle felt cold and empty. All you could hear was the sounds of whiny children, Joffrey asking for his mother, while Ageon and Viserys cried as their nurses cradled them. 

You could not find comfort in a place like this. It felt eerie and unsettled. Like the ocean before a storm. As you struggled to find sleep you longed for the company only Jace could provide. 

Hoping his blood had cooled enough, you dragged yourself out of bed and sought him out. 

You found him in the first place you looked, the library. He was always in the library. “Jace?” You beckoned out softly as you entered, wrapping yourself tighter in the robe you were wearing. 

Jace was sitting at a desk, holding his head in his hand as his other flipped through the pages of a book, “A child was beheaded. The lords' faith in my mother waivers. And she flees.” He said without looking at you. It was clear he was still frustrated, no angry. 

Though you did not know where the Queen had gone, you knew it had to be a reason of importance. But you could understand Jacaerys’s anger.

You began to step closer to Jace, not intimidated by his anger. “Your position is a difficult one, I would wager.” You leaned against the desk he sat at, “As I imagine her position is also a difficult one. I cannot pass judgment on her actions.” You said softly.

Jace looked up from the book on the desk, “Has this shaken your belief in my mother's claim?”

“No.” You asserted quickly, “Your mother did not want for this. It was clear she rebuked the act with all her heart. Her claim was given to her by birth, no force but death will change that.”

Jace looked back to the book he was reading, “Not all of the realm sees it the way you do.” You could feel the frustration building in him.

“I’ve written to my brother. He shall send us more men. Spread the truth about the murder about the realm.” You said hoping it would ease his mind, though you could see it did nothing. You sighed “You should sleep.” 

Jacaerys scoffed, “How can I? Damon has fled to plot his own war, my mother vanishes from her responsibilities, and now our claim has been weakened by the death of an innocent child.” He rubbed his eyes, “I am alone with these responsibilities with lords who pester me for answers.”

“You are not alone.” You said as you ran your hand through his hair, “The burden is a heavy one, let me hold it with you.” You said as if you were pleading, “I can send ravens and bark at the lords who dare pester you.” Jacaerys did not respond to you, ignoring your words and continuing to read. You removed your hand from him, growing frustrated with him, “And how will reading thousand-year-old histories hunched over a desk in the middle of the night help that?”

“Someone has to do something.” He muttered.

You sighed, “If you insist on it, perhaps you could read in my chambers. Maybe the company would help you feel less lonely. Or I could sleep here-” 

Jacaerys interrupted you, “I don’t feel lonely. I am alone with my mother's war to fight. A letter to the North will do well. But it might do nothing at all. So by all means, sleep, and make yourself easy.” He said, his words dripping with anger and frustration. 

You stood, shocked by his reaction. “My apologies my prince, I merely wished to ease your anxieties.” You said in a mocking tone. 

As you stormed out, Jacaerys knew he had made a terrible mistake. He allowed his anger to take hold of his emotions and lashed out at the one person who wished to make things easier on him. 

You stormed down the hall, wiping a tear from your cheek. Your face was red from a strange mixture of heartache and anger. You thought of how Rheanyra looked after Daemon stormed away. You didn’t know what happened in that room but you could assume. 

Maybe it was true what all those women in the North said. All men are the same, they are all born of the same nature. You felt foolish to have had such hope for Jacaerys. 

But you knew, hot blood has a way of blinding you. You decided it would be best to sleep and wait for you and Jacaerys to calm down.

Once in your chambers, you splashed your face with warm water, washing away your teasers. You then turned to Liana, your Handmaiden. She handed you a cloth to pat your face dry. Once you did, she took the fabric from your hand. You smiled coldly at the girl, “Thank you, Liana.” 

The girl bowed her head to you before leaving your chamber. 

As you lay down in your bed, you tried your best to sleep. You tossed and turned, hitting and folding your pillows in a desperate attempt to get comfortable enough to find rest. The cries of the babes still echoed throughout the castle’s stone walls. 

Frustrated,  you once again tore the blankets off of you. Holding a candle to light your way, you followed the sounds of cries. 

As you entered the babe’s chamber you saw a sleeping boy in one cradle, and a Handmaiden bouncing the other child in a desperate attempt to comfort him. 

“My lady!” The handmaiden called out, surprised by your sudden appearance. “I am sorry, I cannot seem to put him to rest.” She said worrying she’d upset you and your night. 

“Seems like a common problem here.” You said with a weak smile. You set down your candle and walked towards the handmaiden. “I find singing soothes them best.” You suggested softly as you tucked your loose hair behind your ears. 

The handmaiden chuckled, “I’m not much of a singer I fear.” She said as she continued to rock and bounce the child to no avail. 

You stood for a moment looking at the boy. Though he had silver hair, he reminded you of your siblings in the North. “May I?” You asked as you held out your hands towards the babe. 

First slightly unsure, the handmaiden placed the boy in your arms. 

You held him gently as you swayed him back and forth. You began to hum a melody that your mother would sing to you. The hum soon turned into vocalization. The babe calmed in your arms finally. 

He gripped onto a strand of your hair that fell loose over your shoulder. He didn’t pull it, just absentmindedly toying with it. 

This boy must have been Viserys. It could be hard to tell at times, but Viserys had curls, whereas Ageon did not. And Aegon slept much better than Viserys did. As evident from the silver-haired boy sleeping soundly in the cradle and the other in your arms. It surprised you how well Aegon could sleep through such noise. 

You looked back down at Viserys. As he looked up into your eyes you noticed he and Jacaerys shared the same eyes. It made you think of being a mother to the future King, or Queen. And maybe many other princes and princesses. You wondered what those babies might look like. A bit of you, and a bit of him. 

Soon the boy's eyes became heavy and he drifted into a light sleep. 

“Can I get you anything my Lady?” the Handmaiden whispered, not wishing to disturb him. 

“Perhaps a tea for sleep? I can’t seem to find it but I shall see to it that the boy sleeps.” You whispered as you continued to sway the boy back and forth. 

The handmaiden nodded and swiftly but quietly left the chambers. 

As you turned your attention back to Viserys you realized the boy was limp and heavy in your arms. He breathed calmly and deeply, snoring even. ‘Finally’ You thought to yourself. 

You played the babe into the cradle beside his brother. As you looked down upon them you thought back again on your daydream of you and Jace’s children. 

It made you feel excited and hopeful to think of that future. But with this recent turn in the war, and your fight with Jacaerys, you felt doubt. But you were willing to fight for that feeling of hope. 

You ran your hand over the boy's silver curly hair once before you heard the chamber door creek open. You turned towards it, expecting to see a Handmaiden holding a hot cup of tea. Instead, you saw a knight, one you recognized. 

You wrapped your robe around you tighter, “Ser Erryk?” You asked with concern. Though he looked at you with pity, and what was stranger was his eyes didn’t look like his eyes at all, “You’re not Erryk, are you?” You mutter quietly as you hold onto yourself tightly as your anxieties rise. 

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach once you saw a cloaked man behind the Knight posing as Ser Erryk. 

Viserys began to stir from his sleep, whining slightly. You took a step back, keeping your eyes on the men in the doorway. You placed a hand on the wooden railing of the cradle holding the two young princes. 

“It’s the real Targaryen boys.” The cloaked man rasped to the Knight. 

With that, the two began to inch their way into the chamber. You moved to block their view of the infants sleeping in their cradles. 

“There's gold, silver, anything you desire I will give. Just leave the babes.” You whispered, not wishing to wake the infants to such a horrific scene. Though your heart began to pound so quickly you thought that alone might wake Viserys. 

The man in the cloak smirked at your attempt to derail their plan as he got closer and closer to you. His filthy hand tore off your mother’s necklace that hung around your neck. He examined it in his hands before placing it in his pocket. “Blood must be spilled.” 

The knight, however, did not find humor or joy in the act he was anticipating. “You’ll take us to the Queen.” He whispered. It was a command, but it felt like a plea. As if this armed intruder had no desire to bring harm to you. But you knew he had the ability and the will to. 

You shook your head, “I’ll do no such thing.” Your eyes were wide and filled with terror.

“You will.” The knight said, again, it sounded like he was desperately pleading with you. 

“The Queen fled Dragonstone this evening.” You said almost mockingly, “Even if she were here, I’d not take you to her.” 

The cloaked man began to walk towards you with a rotten and crooked smile, “You then.” He said with a giddy high chuckle as he raised a dagger towards you. 

You moved away from the children, not wishing to bring that terrible creature near them. The man followed after you, “Please-“ You pleaded quietly as he grabbed hold of you. His stench was thick, nearly choking you as he pressed a knife to your throat. He held one of your hands while your other attempted to pull his knife away from you. “I rebuke the act with all my heart-” You quietly pleaded as you felt the knife begin to drag against your skin, cutting into your throat ever so slightly. 

You squirmed and the cloaked man began to giggly snicker in your ear. But the knight stepped forward raising a hand to the man halting his action. The man’s snicker died out, as though he was upset he was being interrupted. 

“Perhaps-” The knight began, “If you returned to Kings Landing.” The knight was speaking to you, but his eyes stayed on the man, “If you married Prince Aemond, give the North’s power to the Greens.” His eyes then fell onto you, “Then we could spare you.” 

“That wasn’t what he asked for.” The cloaked man barked back to the Knight. The knight however did not respond to the man, only looking at you with pleading eyes. 

With eyes widened and your heart racing. You felt the cold blade beginning to split your hot skin as sweat trickled down your brow. Terrified, and vulnerable. Still, you knew you would never betray the only man you ever loved or the true Queen. “I’d rather you put my head on a spike.” You said, your voice shaking but your eyes did not show fear, but contempt. 

The man holding the knife to your throat grew giddy once more, and the Knight sighed as he grabbed hold of the hilt of his sword. “Then, believe me, I have no choice, " he said with a regretful sigh. 

The knight drew his sword, making you gasp and your eyes grew wider, so wide you thought they might fall out of your head. The knight approached the sleeping babes in their cradle and you squirmed violently in the grasp of the cloaked man. As you did the blade only cut its way deeper into your skin but you did not care. 

“No!” You pleaded desperately. 

“Only one needs to die.” The cloaked man said you could practically hear the grin on his face. “Which will it be?” He asked with a giddy chuckle. 

Tears began to fall from your wide eyes down your red cheeks, “Spare-spare them- take me- me- me-” You desperately and quietly pleaded. The man's giddy chuckle only grew more erratic. 

But the knight did not move, “I cannot.” The knight said with shame as he looked down at the infants in their cradle. 

The man who held you tightly against his blade threw you down onto the ground, “You take care of the woman.” He said with frustration as he made his way towards the babes. 

You stood quickly and grabbed a hold of a golden pitcher within the room. You hit the man over the head with it. Making water splash over him, and the babes waking them instantly. The babes screamed and cried as the golden edge of the pitcher cut the scalp of the man open, and he fell to the ground in pain before he picked himself up and ran out of the chamber disappearing in the shadows of the halls. 

The knight’s large hand rose and fell on your face, knocking you to the ground. It was at that same moment you heard the shattering of glass hit the floor. It was the handmaiden dropping your cup of hot tea onto the ground. “M’Lady!” The woman shouted.

You looked up from the hard ground to the woman, “Find Ser Lorrent!” You called out. You wanted for a moment to call for Jacaerys, but you would never forgive yourself for bringing danger to him. 

As the woman ran down the hall, the Knight begrudgingly grabbed a chunk of your hair as he pulled you off the ground. As he looked into your tear-stained face he noticed the damage he’d already done. 

A bruise to your cheekbone that rose to your eye, and a cut to your lip. You could see the shame in his eyes as he brought his sword to your neck. 

“Brother!” A voice yelled out. You looked over to the door to see the true Ser Erryk. He drew his sword.

Without exchanging many words, they unsheathe their swords. You took the opportunity to grab hold of the wailing children and run to the door. All you could hear was the sounds of steel clashing and blood splattering the floor. Their identical fighting styles and knowledge of each other’s tactics result in a deadly stalemate at first.

The clash of swords echoes through the halls, as Ser Lorent finally arrives. He did not know who was who, and at such a distance you did not either. 

Ser Lorent kept you behind him, as he watched the battle continue. You watched on in horror holding onto the crying children.

You jumped as you felt hands wrap around you. But as you looked you noticed it was Jacaerys, his expression was one of terror and rage. 

“Jacaerys!” You said with relief, as he pulled you and his siblings further away from the fight.  

He held your face, observing your injuries, “Where are you hurt?” He asked frantically, “Where did he touch you?” He repeated the question several times but you were far too frightened to speak. 

You heard the sound of metal hitting the floor, as you turned you saw one of the knights fall dead onto the floor, and his sword along with him. 

The surviving Knight, you could only assume was Erryk, stepped forward. His eyes were filled with grief and guilt. 

You looked towards him with sympathy, you didn’t know what to say, but you would not have a chance to think of anything before the knight stumbled into the hall. “My Lady,” He said as he turned his sword towards himself, “Forgive me.” He said as he fell onto his sword.

“No!” You screamed out, but it was too late. Erryk lay dead beside his brother.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You spent the rest of the night locked away in your chamber with Viserys, Aegon, and Joffrey. The guard around your chamber was nearly tripled at the command of Jacaerys. 

“We have no idea how they penetrated our walls.” Ser Alfred began. 

Jacaerys marched across the council room, exuding every once of rage he felt, “And where were the members of this council when the traitors threatened their Queen, their Princes, and their future Queen?” He questioned, ignoring Ser Alfred's words. “My betrothed is our stronghold.” He barked at the men in that room. He then marched towards Ser Lorent, stopping inches from his face, “And where were you while the Prince and my Lady were threatened?” His tone was oozing with contemptous rage. 

Ser Lorent looked down like a child who was caught misbehaving, “I was abed-”

“A bed!” Jace shouted, interrupting the Knight. “She could have been killed!” He nearly screamed as he continued to march around the room. 

“It is not the time for blind accusations.” Lord Corlys began, attempting to settle his grandchild’s rage but failing.  

“If I may-” Lady Mysaria began, “The guard has detained someone.” This captured Jacaerys’s attention, “The men whom they have captured are not known to us. However, they were caught attempting to flee Dragonstone in a small boat. With the Ladys necklace.” She said holding up the necklace Jacaerys knew was your mother's. 

Jacaerys felt that cold sting of rage crashes through his chest, he grabbed a hold of his sword as he walked towards the door to the chamber, “I’ll kill him myself.” Jace, his eyes watery with angry tears. 

Lord Corlys, placed a hand on Jace’s chest, stopping him, “I believe it may be best that we approach this with a level head.” He said in a hushed tone. 

“A level head?” Jace scoffed, “He had a knife to her throat!” He barked.

“And he will pay for such an insult.” Ser Alfred said, in an attempt to aid Corlys in calming Jace.

“Insult?” Jace repeated in a mocking tone offended that he would compare what was done to you to an insult. 

“Jacaerys.” Corlys said, redirecting Jace’s attention back to him, “We must first extract all the knowledge they have of the attack. Who ordered it-”

“We know who ordered it!” Jace shouted,

Ser Alfred stepped forward once more, “They paraded the boy throughout the streets after his death. Shouting of the depravity of Rheanyra the Cruel.” Jace turned to face Ser Alfred, he looked at him with contempt. Weary of what he was to say next. “We cannot parade the Lady and her injuries to the public but we can send letters detailing each act- the horror they inflicted-” 

Lord Corlys buried his eyes in his hand.

“No.” Jace asserted, “I will not allow my wife’s honor to be compromised.” He began emotion building in her voice. 

No one said a thing, but they all noticed how he spoke of you as his wife though your wedding had not even been planned yet. 

Despite Jacaery’s anger, Ser Alfred continued, “Will the Lords of Westeros support Aegon once they have heard of their depravity, or will they rather not denounce the Greens?”

“I will not let her be seen as weak,” Jace said, his voice dripping with fury. 

“Not weak. Courageous.” He attempted to rationalize, “She protected the prince and the queen, nearly costing her own life to do so. Her misfortune will do more for our cause than a hundred thousand knights.” 

“I said no-” Jace asserted once more before he was interrupted by a handmaiden.

“I apologize, my prince.” The handmaiden said cautiously, “The Lady has requested such action be taken.” She said weary of how the Prince might receive this information.

“What?” He asked breathlessly.

The handmaiden fidgeted with her fingers, nervously, “She has said, she understands, as a representative of the throne she must make sacrifices-” 

Jace shook his head, and rubbed his brow, “She needn’t sacrifice anything.”

“My Prince, the lady has insisted. She has expressed she will not turn her cheek.” The handmaiden said before turning back to leave. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

In the Dungeon, Lord Corlys entered the cell holding the badly wounded man. 

“I would suggest you speak of whom sent you.” Sitting in front of the man, Lord Corlys intimidated him well enough on his own, he did not need much to convince the man to speak. 

“I was sent by Ser Criston Cole under the order of the King Aegon Targaryen.” The cloaked man said, still holding onto his bleeding scalp. 

“What was the anticipated outcome of this mission?” Lord Corlys questioned.

“Kill the Rheanyra, kill the true born sons.” The man spoke the truth, in a desperate attempt to avoid any more harm. “Arryk muddied it all up. Didn’t know where the right room was. Then didn’t want to kill the boys.” He spoke with haste and fear, “I don’t know any more than that I promise.” With that, Lord Corlys nodded and stood. The man looked up at him with confusion. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“No.” He said calmly, “But I cannot vouch for the Prince.” Corlys said before leaving the cell.

The man’s breathing grew rapid as he saw the prince enter the dungeon.

Jacaerys entered the dungeon, with clenched fists, holding a large Morningstar mace. Jace looked more disheveled than when Lord Corlys saw him in the council chamber. His shirts were unbuttoned and his hair was a mess. His eyes were darker than they normally were. His feet marched along the stone floor as he came into the cell holding the man. 

The man did not plea, he only gritted his teeth knowing what was to come. Jacaerys clenched his jaw as he looked down at the man. He thought of the injuries he saw on his betrothed. The cut on her upper lip, the bruise on her cheek, the cut on her neck, and the bruising on her wrist where the man held her against him. The rage grew inside of him. His nostrils flared as he breathed in and out. 

The man began to cry as he stared up at Jacaerys. It only made the rage within Jace grow. How dare this man cry after what he had done. 

Jace could no longer hold in his fury, he swung his mace over his head and down onto the man’s already cracked skull. 

He brought the mace down onto the man, again, and again, and again until the man’s groaning, whimpering, and twitching ceased. 

Jace breathed heavily, exhausted by emotion and physical exertion. His face was covered in blood splatter and sweat. 

He stood tall over the man, dropping the mace down onto the man's skull before turning and leaving the cell. 

Lord Corlys watched as Jace said not a word and left the dungeon. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ 

Afterward, word traveled quickly of what the Prince had done to the man in the Dungeon. 

It took no time at all for you to have heard of it from several handmaidens. Though it made you feel a certain comfort you still wished Jacaerys would see you, would apologize to you. You valued that much more than violence. 

But it would not be long for that either. As you sat by the fire, you watched over the children sleeping in the well-guarded chamber with you. You jumped slightly once you heard the chamber door open softly. Despite you knowing how well you were guarded now you still were on edge. Though your anxieties dissolved once you saw it was your betrothed. Deshovled, with what looked like blood splattered onto his shirts. 

Jace had washed his face but had not the patience to change before he could see you. 

“You saved my brothers.” Jacaerys spoke gently despite his gruesome appearance, “You showed the realm your heroic bravery.” He said as he approached you. He tried to move your hair to see the cut on your neck, “Show me please.” he said softly but you moved your head so he could not look. 

You didn’t look at him, still holding resentment. “Tis nothing.” You spoke dismissively. 

Jacaerys got onto his knees, placing his hands on your lap, “I must beg for your mercy.” He bowed his head in shame, “My behavior was abhorrent.” he said shaking his head. You still said nothing. Jace looked up at you, “Speak, please. Plainly, even if they are words meant to hurt me I just wish for you to speak.” He pleaded.

So, you did. “You made me feel useless, unwanted.” You said looking at him with hurt eyes, “I only wished to comfort you. And you pushed me away.” You sighed, “I am not a hero, and I am not brave, Jacaerys. I am hurt and far from home.” 

He took in your words for a moment, nodding, “You alone have given us the North, you have saved the Prince and the Queen.” He spoke calmly, “And you have made me a true man and bewitched me, mind and body. I want no one else, and our house could not survive without you.” He took hold of your hands and looked at you with eyes that spoke of the love and devotion he felt toward you, “I was an arrogant fool to make you feel otherwise. Blinded by my own anger towards matters that were not caused by your hand.” You saw his eyes begin to tear up, “I could have lost you. It was so narrowly avoided. I imagined it when I saw those men who attacked you. Losing you… You are my way of life, without you, I could not go on.” He said before sniffing and swallowing whatever emotion was consuming him, before he looked back to you “If I have proven unworthy, I will see to it you have safe passage to the North. No action will be taken against your house.-” He began but you interrupted his ridiculous words. 

You scoffed, “I am not going to leave you over an argument, Jacaerys.” You placed a hand on his cheek, “I said I loved you and I meant it.” 

“I will live to earn your forgiveness.” He said gripping onto your hand tightly. 

“You have it you fool.” You said stifling a laugh. You found it hard to hold resentment toward him any longer. 

He smiled softly at you, and then he ran a hand gently over your hair, “May I?” He asked and you nodded. 

He moved your hair to see the cut on your neck. He grimaced at the sight, not out of disgust but out of anger for what they had done. 

“I said it was nothing.” You said trying to comfort him.

“It is something.” He insisted. 

You pushed your hair forward covering the mark, “The maester said it will scar, but can easily hidden.” 

“You’ll not hide anything.” Jacaerys said as he placed a hand on your cheek, “You did not have to send those letters.” He said shaking his head. He felt shame for allowing such a thing to happen. 

You shook your head, “I couldn’t lay back and make myself easy.” 

“You did much more than that,” Jace said sternly, he would not allow anyone to make you think otherwise. 

You looked at his disheveled appearance, “Is it true what they said?” You questioned softly, “You-You killed the man who did it?” He looked at you with conviction, “I will not allow someone to threaten harm to my wife and live.” 

“Your wife?” You asked with a smile,

“You are quite nearly that.” he smiled back.

The martial bliss that fell upon both you and Jace heavily. Your love was clear to everyone who saw you both together. He always made sure you were by his side, he held your hand and looked at you with the utmost love and adoration. He was never shy about his affection, he often kissed you in any setting, and during council, he always held your hand under the table. You and he were nearly inseparable, and when you were away from one another for too long you both grew more and more frustrated. 

And after a long day without you by his side, once Jace finally had you alone in his chamber your skirts were hiked up to your waist, and your husband's face was between your thighs. “Mmmphm…” You moaned whilst biting your bottom lip. You pulled on his hair as he suckled on your sensitive clit gently. He closed his eyes as he drank you in. Gods it was unfair that high lords and politcs kept him from you for so long. He licked you as if he was trying to memorize your taste and engrave the sounds of your moans into his brain. You continued to pull on Jace’s brown curls as his pace increased with your desire, “Awwh… Jace, awe- I need you.” You whined.

Jace’s mouth abandoned your cunt for a moment and his grip tightened on your thighs, “You have me.” He said breathlessly as he kissed your inner thigh sloppily. 

You sat up and grabbed hold of his jaw, forcing him to look at you, “No, I need more of you.” You demanded. 

Jacaerys couldn’t help but smirk slightly at your request. He was proud of the pleasure he could bring to you. He felt it only proved his worth as a husband to you more. As if being the future king was not enough. But he eagerly obeyed you, pushing himself up for his mouth to meet yours. As your tongues met one another in a passionate embrace, Jacaerys’s hands were frantically undoing the ties of his trousers. 

As soon as his length was free, he pushed into you without any resistance from how wet you were. 

You weren’t quite with your noises, the sounds of the ancient wooden headboard hitting the wall again and again mixed with the melodic sounds of you and your husband's moans echoed throughout the halls. There was no question if this union was a happy one. 

Jace moaned into the hollow of your neck as you held him close to you. Your body writhing against his as he thrust against you. 

He whispered prayers of worship for you against your hot skin, but your wind was far too consumed with pleasure to register the words. 

A knot tightened in your belly as you felt yourself coming to your peak. And once you felt Jace’s heat spill into you, the knot snapped. You fell apart around him but he held you tightly against him. 

Jacaerys was a kind and doting husband. He not only brought you pleasure but was sure to take care of you. He and you bathed with one another afterward and ate a good meal before retiring.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

But all night you tossed and turned as nausea and stomach cramps came and went in waves. Finally, you submitted knowing that sleep would not find you. 

You looked over to Jace lying beside you. Smiling to yourself softly as you looked upon his relaxed face and listened to his soft snoring. You reached over and brushed his curls away from his face before you rose from your feather bed, trying your best not to wake him.

The cold stone of the ground sent a shock through your feet making your head spin. Your thin nightgown did little to protect you from the cold early morning air. The cold air sent a chill up your spine and your skin turned to gooseflesh. 

Using whatever strength you had left you made your way to the fireplace. Being a northerner you could light a fire blinded, but the nausea made your hands shaky and the cold made you weak. So after a bit of fumbling you finally lit the fire successfully without waking Jace. 

The immediate heat you felt as the wood ignited sent a wave of comfort through you though did not heal whatever sickness was afflicting you. 

You placed two round stones into the fire, allowing them to warm up before you removed them and placed them into a thick cloth. You held them close to your stomach as you sat beside the fire. Finally feeling some relief from your symptoms, though not strong enough to make your way back to your bed.

Subconsciously as he dreamed, Jacaerys’s hand roamed the mattress looking for the body of his wife. His hand unable to find the warmth of his lover’s body, he stirred from his slumber. He opened his eyes, blinking as the light from the fire shocked his sleep-deprived eyes. He sat up, rubbing his eyes as he looked around the room for you almost frantically, “My love?” 

“Go back to sleep.” You rasped, trying your best to ease his concerns but you knew that was impossible. “I’m sick is all.” 

You knew you said the wrong thing as Jace threw the blankets off of himself and stood. Though he regretted falling asleep so bare. The skin of his bare chest was consumed by the cold quickly. He did not know how you were able to stand to be in the cold so long, even if you were a northerner. You were wearing nothing but thin chemise. So thin he could see through it, it was his favorite one you wore. He grabbed a velvet blanket and hurried to your side. 

“What is it?” He asked, his eyes filled with concern. If you hadn’t seen him wake you’d not believe he was asleep just moments before.

You sighed and shook your head, “I must have eaten far too much. Indulged myself beyond reason.”

Jace threw the blanket around your shoulders and helped you up, “Nonsense, you ate whenever you felt hunger. That is not indulgence.”  It did not matter if the words were spoken by you he was defensive over you. 

Jacaerys laid you down on your bed gently. You laid on your side, cradling the warm stone against your stomach. “Either way, my stomach is punishing me for it.” You groaned as a wave of nausea came over you once more. 

Jace pulled the covers over you and ran his hand over your forehead, brushing the hair away from your face. “I’ll send for a maester.” He said definitely, about to turn immediately to grab a shirt. However, his movements were stopped as you grabbed hold of his wrist. 

“Jacaerys,” You said looking up at him with pleading eyes, “There’s no need for such urgency.” You hated having people fuss over you. You were used to letting things like sickness pass, it seemed silly to wake the maester for nausea. 

Jace got down on his knee beside your bedside, “Please.” He asked softly, you could see in his eyes he was sincerely concerned. “You may feel it is silly but please, let me ease my mind.” 

You didn’t like seeing him worry, and if it would make him feel better you decided to submit to it. “Fine. But I do feel it is silly.” You said reluctantly. 

He leaned over you and kissed your cheek, “Thank you.” He said before kissing your lips and rushing out of the room while throwing on a shirt haphazardly. 

You sighed once more, flinging your arm over your face and covering your eyes with your forearm.

It did not take long for Jacaerys to return. “My Love? Are you decent?” He asked poking his head into the chamber. Damn him for being so caring and considerate, you rolled your eyes.

 You were as decent as you were going to get in this state, “Bring whoever it is in, Jace.” You said dismissively. 

Maester Gerardys stepped into the chamber after Jacaerys, “Princess, it is an honor to serve you.” He said graciously as if he was not dragged from his bed for this. 

You looked at the man in his night clothes and sighed, “Thank you Maester Gerardys, though I fear there will be little you can do.” You said with an apologetic smile.

Maester Gerardys smiled as he placed his bag of tools and medicines at your bedside, “Best to be sure.” He took your wrist feeling your pulse, Jacaerys looked on nervously from the end of the bed. “What seems to be the affliction?”

“Uneasy stomach, nausea.” You said with little concern for the situation. 

The Maester grabbed hold of the blanket, “May I?” He asked and you hesitated but nodded yes. You rolled onto your back, as he pulled the covers away from your body. 

His hands pressed down over your stomach and you felt nothing. When his hands went lower, pressing down over either side of the lowest bit of your stomach you groaned. “Princess, if I may ask, when was the last time you’ve had your blood?”

You hadn’t thought of it in so long, you couldn’t remember. Your eyes went wide, “I cannot remember.”

The Maester removed his hands from you and stood straight. He cleared his throat before speaking, “If I may suggest a more in-depth examination?” 

“What does that entail?” Jacaerys questions protectively,

You however knew exactly what that would entail and were not surprised when you had your legs spread and the Maester poking around inside of you. 

You felt all the more sick, but you knew it was a medical necessity. And with your growing suspicion you needed to know if you were correct.  

You stared at the ceiling, memorizing the pattern of the tiles, desperately attempting to remove your mind from the uncomfortable sensation. Jace held your hand, feeling guilt for getting you in this situation, to begin with. 

“Mphm!” You groaned in pain and squeezed Jacaerys’s hand tightly 

Jace’s eyes darted over to the Maester simply attempting to do his job with dangerous eyes, “Move cautiously.” Jace nearly threatened. 

“I do apologize, my Prince.” The Maester said, however when he looked at Jace he could see his response was not correct, “My Princess,” He corrected. 

Jace kissed your knuckles attempting to comfort you before his eyes darted toward the maester once more, “Should I be worried?” Jacaerys asked impatiently. 

Finally, the Maester pulled his hands away from you, “Well my Prince, I would not worry for it is a joyous diagnosis.” He stood and collected his things casually, “The Princess is with child.” He said shockingly cavalier. 

Your eyes went wide, and you sat up on your elbows in your bed, “I am?” You asked, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest and Jace’s hand squeezing tightly around yours.

The Maester continued to casually pack away his things, “Yes, and quite far along as well. The seed is strong and growing well.” He picked up his bag and made his way to the door, “I will brew raspberry leaf tea to ease the unpleasant symptoms and have a handmaiden bring it at once.” He looked back to you as he opened the door to your chamber, reading himself to leave, “Seven blessings to you both.” He said before shutting the door. 

You knew you couldn’t feel surprised, you and your husband rarely spent a morning, afternoon, or night alone without some form of physical intimacy. Nor did either of you take any precaution. You were to be King and Queen, the sooner you had an heir the better and more secure the Targaryen bloodline would be. This was what you wanted, what you both wanted. 

You both spent days daydreaming with one another about names for a babe, what they might look like, what parts of them would favor you or he, and what they might be like. 

You looked over toward your husband, still kneeling by your side. Jace took your hand, kissing your knuckles, and wrist, then up your arm. He repeated his thanks, again and again. “Thank you, my Love.” He kissed up your arm to your shoulder, then finally reached your neck. He pulled away from you, smiling at you as he held your face gently. “Our first child-” He said with giddy excitement. 

Still somewhat shocked, you breathed a laugh, “I know.” You said softly, unsure of what to say. 

Jacaerys could see your surprise, it shook his confidence in his happiness. But once he looked down at your body, his eyes landed on your stomach. Still no sign of a pregnancy but the idea of you growing soon made his eyes well in tears of joy. 

He placed a hand over your stomach, feeling already so protective over something so small and invisible. “Can you believe it?” Jacaerys asked genuinely in disbelief.

You shook your head as you looked down at your stomach as Jace’s hand rested on it, “No.” You said before correcting, “I mean, yes, yes I can.” You stifled a laugh, “You have been nothing if not a rutting goat since we married.” 

He looked at you, love and admiration in his eyes, “I cannot resist you.” He said before climbing on top of you, careful not to press any weight onto you. 

You squirmed and giggled as he did, his eyes were filled with lust and desire as much as they were with joy. 

“Jacaerys!” You giggled as you playfully hid your face from him, but he continued to lean into you. He kissed your neck and your cheek until you finally looked at him, he smiled at you as if he couldn’t control it. “What?” You asked innocently.

Jace’s eyes and smile grew wider, “What?” He repeated your question as if it was silly. “You’ve given me the world, that is what!” He said before pressing his lips to yours again. 

Once the tea arrived, your symptoms were gone and you and Jace spent the rest of the night in each other's arms. Jace’s hands never left your stomach.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

In the morning, Jace’s joy was as prominent as it was the night before.

He nearly opened the window to your chamber to shout to all the news. But he settled for running up and down the halls telling anyone he could find a reason to tell. 

You thought it was sweet, but you were never used to people paying such attention to you. Now you were never alone. 

You saw the maester each day, eating special foods, and drinking special teas, and handmaidens were by your side every moment of the day. It all reminded you of how delicate you and your child’s health were. You began to feel you were unfit to look after something so fragile and so important. 

The Queen was ecstatic to hear the news. She curated a feast to be held in honor of you and Jacaerys that very night.

Jace did not leave your side all night and did not allow many to get close to you. He knew you felt uneasy when given such attention. 

He often subtly stood ever so slightly in front of you, creating a distance between you and others. 

However, his efforts did not ease your mind. You felt overwhelmed surrounded by so many people and overwhelmed with the responsibility in your belly. 

So, nearing the end of the night, when you could no longer take any more you turned to Jacaerys. “Husband,” You captured his attention in a single breath, “I must retire for tonight.” Your voice wavered slightly. 

Jacaerys felt an unease in your voice. He could feel your anxieties were deeper than the feast, He sat down his cup quickly, “Of course, I shall walk you-” 

“No,” You asserted quickly as if it were instinctual. “I need a moment alone, my love.” You said much softer, attempting to not make Jace worry.

Jace was conflicted. He wanted to fight your opposition, wanting only to protect you and his child. But his want to respect your wishes outweighed that. And so, he nodded and kissed your hand before he conceded, “I shall see you after the feast, my heart.” 

You kissed him once more before standing and leaving the dining hall with a guard following after. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Jacaerys’s mind spiraled once you were gone. 

He was always insecure about his worth to you, and now he was worried he was not worthy of your family. He spent the rest of the feast sulking in his maladaptive thoughts of his own inadequacies. 

Once the feast had died out, Jacaerys turned to the only person he felt could guide him.

“Mother,” Jace called out to his mother who was seated at her table nearly alone aside from Damon who was a moment away from retiring himself.

“Jacaerys.” She greeted him happily, “Where is our Stark?” She asked unaware of what had happened. Damon stood wobbly from the wine, he patted Jace on the back before leaving. 

Jacaerys sat in Damon's spot beside his mother, “She has retired for the night.” Jace said devoid of that happiness she had seen all day long. 

Rhaenyra nodded understandingly, “Carrying a child is exhausting work. Has the maester seen to her?” 

“Yes,” Jace said looking down at his feet, “She and the babe are strong.” He said, a small smile appearing on his mouth before vanishing.

“That is wonderful, Jacaerys.” She said grabbing ahold of his hand, “We must begin our preparations at once.” She began explaining excitedly, “The Maester should see to her daily, a handmaiden and nursemaid shall be by her side at all times. And Jacaerys, many will be attending to the babe whilst she is with child, you must attend to her.” She said gently,

Jacaerys nodded, “Of course.” 

Rhaenyra looked at her son. Jace never hid his emotions well, or at least never tried to. It was obvious that he was distressed about something, “What is it?” She asked gently, leaning in. 

Jace looked at her, he stammered for a moment before speaking with a smile, “I am overjoyed.” He said genuinely, and then his smile faded, “But I must admit I am overwhelmed and I feel she may be as well.” He looked at his mother with serious eyes, “The responsibility is a heavy one. What if I am not worthy of it?” 

Rhaenyra sighed, “Insecurity is a condition of parenthood.” She shrugged with a smile, “The Gods have given you a child, they have seen your worth. So you must prove it to yourself.” She said with a confident and stern tone, “You will protect that child with your life, and you will live each day for them.” Jace smiled at her and she smiled back. 

She thought back to the time she was pregnant, and of all that she wished she did not have to endure alone. “You know, your father was your age when I became pregnant with you.” She said, “He was so frightened he spent a fortnight at sea. He didn’t know how to comfort me. All I wished for was for him to tell me he would be there with me.” She sighed and shook her head. But then smiled as she spoke, “It was my father who ventured into the dragon pit and brought me Vermax’s egg.” She held Jace’s hand and leaned in, “Fatherhood will come to you in time, but you are a husband now. Comfort her, support her.” 

Jace nodded, “I will.” He vowed it to himself, and to you. 

“I will speak with her, I have a gift I wished to bestow upon her.” She said with a smile before she kissed Jace’s cheek and left the dining hall. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

In your chamber, you sat on a wide lounge chair beside the fire. 

You felt guilt for leaving Jace alone with the festivities, but not guilty enough to go back. You stared at the fire in contemplation. But your gaze was pulled away when you heard your chamber door open. 

Your eyes darted to the door, you saw Queen Rhaenyra. 

“Your Grace?” You asked with wide eyes, not expecting to have seen her.

She smiled at you, holding a wooden box, “May I sit?” She asked softly as she walked toward you. 

“Please.” You nodded and moved over slightly allowing more room on the chair. 

Rhaenyra sat beside you, smiling at you fondly, “I came to share my happiness over your pregnancy.” 

You smiled in return, “Thank you, Your Grace.” You looked back to the fire, unsure of what to say.

“Is something bothering you?” Rhaenyra asked gently,

You shook your head, “I am sorry if I seem out of sorts.” Rhaenyra looked at you expectantly, knowing there was more you wished to say. “I am, unsure how to approach the subject. In the North, we are a bit more unsubtle in our approach to such subjects than you are in the South.” 

“We are alone, and we are both women. You can speak plainly.” Rhaenyra spoke softly, motherly.

You opened your mouth but no words would escape. You stammered for a moment before you placed your hands over your stomach, “I am afraid of this.” You spoke as if you were speaking a great and awful secret. 

“Daughter,” Rhaenyra had begun to call you this. It was a comfort, especially at times like this.

You shook your head, “I am forever indebted to the houses of Targaryen and Velaryon for bestowing such an honorable duty onto me. And I am beyond grateful to Jacaerys for giving me a child.” You spoke with haste, not wanting for your fear to be seen as ungrateful, “But I am afraid, afraid that I shall not carry to term, that I may die in childbirth as my mother did, that I am unfit for motherhood.” You sighed and smiled as you looked down at your hands over your stomach, “I already love this child more than anything in this life, that terrifies me.” 

Rheanyra held your hand tightly, “My mother, once told me that ‘the childbed is our battlefield.’. I myself have birthed five healthy babes. The fear does not go away.” She didn’t speak lies to you, she was honest with you, “But the love you feel for them only grows, and it outshines that fear.” She said with a smile, but soon it faded, “I’ve lost children, that pain never leaves you. To love something so deeply is an agonizing experience, but I cannot imagine a world without them.” 

You looked into her eyes deeply, feeling tears well up in them, “I care more than I thought I could care for anything. And I feel helpless to defend it.” 

“How can the child of a dragon and a wolf be defenseless?” She said with a stifled laugh, “Do not doubt yourself.” She said tightening her grip on your hand. You smiled, wiping a tear from your cheek before nodding. 

With your nod, Rhaenyra pulled the wooden box forward and opened it. “I had this made for you.” She pulled out a blanket, perfectly soft. Quilted in velvet and silks. Colored in reds, blacks, and greys. Embroidered with images of wolves, and dragons, “Once the babe is born they will be wrapped in a blanket adorned with the symbols of their houses.” 

You looked upon the gift with a smile. Your hand ran over the fabric, “Thank you, your grace.” You said sweetly as you took the blanket in hand. 

The Queen took your hand once more before leaving you. 

You looked upon the blanket with intense love, as if it were an embodiment of your child. 

Your hand ran over the fabric, but before you could admire each and every detail you once again heard your chamber door open. 

The maester stood there holding a piece of parchment, “Princess, a raven has arrived from the North.” He said waiting for you to request he read it. 

However you preferred to read your own letters, “May I?” You asked reaching forward. 

The maester came toward you, handing you the letter before bowing and excusing himself. As you unscrolled the letter and began to read it, you could see in the corner of your eye, Jacaerys walk into the room. 

“Who is that from?” Jacaerys asked,

“Cregan,” You said still reading the letter.

“What does he say?” Jace asked making his way into the room, sounding somewhat out of breath for whatever reason. 

“‘Dearest sister, congratulations on your marital bliss. It seems it came as quickly as news of your pregnancy. You will make a fine queen as you will a mother. All my love, Cregan.’ He was always a man of few words.” You said with a smile before looking at Jace. You were shocked when you saw him covered in soot and dirt. “Jace, you’re covered in dirt, what happened to you?” Before you could finish your line of questions Jace opened a sack he was carrying and held forward to you a large dragon egg, “What is this?”

Jacaerys smiled and placed it in your hands, “An egg.” You looked at the egg, a shining iridescent silver-scaled egg. “Silverwing brought forth another clutch of eggs, the timing would seem fate-like, would it not?” He asked with a smile.

You smiled back at him, “It’s warm.”

“It will be placed on a fire until the babe arrives, then they will share a crib with one another. If it ever hatches, they will be bonded for life.” He said placing a hand over the egg. 

“This egg will grow to be our child's protector.” You looked up at Jace, “I somehow already feel indebted to it.” 

“Not their only protector.” He placed a hand on your cheek, “I know you will be a fierce mother.” 

“‘And you a fearsome father.” You said with a smile, “You must make a promise to me.” Your tone suddenly became all the more serious, “I am no longer just a woman, I am a mother. My loyalty and my love though committed to you, is now eternally placed in our child.” You placed your hand over your stomach, “This, is far more important than anything in the world, more important than you or I. We are immortally bound together in our child’s blood.” You held Jace’s face in your hand, “I need you to promise me you will always place our child before all else. Before the crown, before the realm, before even I.” Your eyes were stern, demanding an answer. 

He shook his head, “It will never come to that.” Jace said not willing to think of such a thing. 

“Then you should have no issue promising it to me.” You said, evermore the contrarian. 

“I promise.” Jacaerys conceded, “But you must promise the same.” 

“I promise it.” You responded quickly. Jacaerys held your face in his hands and kissed you once again. Once your lips parted you smiled up at him blissfully, “I think it will be a girl.” 

“How can you tell so early?” He stifled a laugh, brushing your hair out of your face.

“All the women in my family get sick when they are pregnant with a girl.” You smiled softly as you looked down at your belly, then back to Jacaerys “Would you be disappointed?” You asked sincerely. 

Jaceaerys cradling your face in his hands smiled in bliss, “You could never disappoint me. Neither of you.” 

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to support or request a piece of writing, I am taking commissions for every thing from blurbs, headcannons, one shots, to personalized character letters.

Jace's expression softened into a tender smile as he looked at the half-finished dragon, and then back at me. The sight of my enthusiastic face, so absorbed in the craft, caused a wave of affection to surge through him. His gaze lingered on me, a mixture of admiration and concern.

"You're straining yourself," he said softly, his tone a blend of warmth and insistence. 

He stepped closer and gently helped me to my feet, his hands moving with a practised tenderness. His fingers brushed lightly against my swollen belly, and he began to rub it in soothing, circular motions. 

"Jace, you must cease this," I said with a gentle smile, placing my hand over his. His frown deepened, and I could see the concern etched into his features. "You're becoming overbearing."

He swallowed hard, his eyes searching mine. "I only want to keep you safe, to keep our child safe," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he cupped my face in his hand.

"I can't walk through these halls without feeling like I'm doing something wrong," I confessed, my voice tinged with frustration. "I care deeply for this babe too, but your constant worry... it frightens me."

Jace exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. When he pulled back, his frown remained, but there was a softness in his gaze.

"I don't mean to cause you distress," he said quietly, his voice laced with regret. I nodded, understanding his intentions even if they sometimes overwhelmed me.

After a moment of silence, I shifted slightly "I could use some tea though," I said, trying to lighten the mood. Before the words were fully out of my mouth, Jace was already moving to stand.

"I'll get it for you," he said quickly, his voice filled with determination but I reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm to stop him.

"No, Jace. I think I can manage to fetch some tea," I said, my tone gentle yet firm. 

His hesitation was palpable, a visible battle between his desire to protect me and the recognition that I needed this small act of independence. His eyes flickered with concern as he looked at me, and I could see how difficult it was for him to let go.

"It's just tea," I added softly, attempting to soothe his worries. 

Finally, with a reluctant nod, he stepped back. "Just be careful," he murmured, his voice almost pleading as he watched me.

I gave him a reassuring smile, appreciating his concession. "I will," I promised, as I turned and made my way across the room.

As I reached the door, I glanced back over my shoulder, my thoughts drifting to a happier distraction. 

"Perhaps we could visit Vermax when I return," I suggested, my voice carrying a hopeful lilt. "I miss him dearly."

I heard Jace's quiet laughter from behind me, a sound that was both tender and indulgent. 

I knew it would take a great deal of convincing for him to agree to let me see the dragon again, especially considering my condition. But the thought of visiting Vermax seemed to lighten the mood, if only slightly.

Jace's voice followed me, a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You'll have to charm me into it, I suppose" he called out with a fond chuckle. 

I smiled to myself as I stepped into the hallway, the soft glow of the sconces casting a warm light on the stone walls.

The castle's usual grandeur was eerily muted, the soft thud of my footsteps on the cold, echoing stone a lonely sound in the vast, empty hallway. Each step seemed to reverberate with an ominous, hollow note.

The familiar surroundings, normally comforting, now felt like a path strewn with obstacles as I descended the grand staircase. 

The slight twist in my ankle was so sudden, so unexpected, that I barely had time to react before I felt myself falling. One moment I was moving cautiously, and the next, I felt my body lurch uncontrollably.

I tumbled down the last few steps, the world around me spinning in a blur of stone and panic. 

The impact was jarring, pain radiating through my body as I came to a stop on the cold floor. My ears rang, a sharp, disorienting sound that drowned out everything else. 

A thin, red line of blood trickled from the gash on my forehead, warm and sticky against my skin but all I could think about was the deep, gnawing fear that gripped my heart.

Anxiety clawed at me as I lay there, my breaths coming in short, frantic gasps. My hands flew instinctively to my swollen stomach, pressing down as if to protect the life within me.

"Please, please be okay," I whispered, the words trembling on my lips as I tried to steady my racing thoughts. 

I needed to get up, to find Jace, to reassure myself that everything was alright but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed by fear, by the pain that coursed through me, and by the overwhelming dread of what might have just happened.

"My lady," a voice gasped, cutting through the haze of my fear. 

I blinked, trying to focus on the figure rushing toward me. The armour clanked loudly in the quiet hallway, the sound harsh against the silence.

"Ser Erryk," I mumbled weakly, recognizing the Queensguard as he knelt beside me, his expression stricken with concern.

"My lady, are you hurt?" he asked urgently, his eyes scanning me for injuries. His hands hovered, unsure of where to touch, or how to help. 

I could see the panic in his eyes, the same panic I felt bubbling inside me.

"My... my head," I whispered, feeling the warmth of the blood trickling down my forehead. "And my ankle... but the babe..." My voice broke, and tears welled up in my eyes. "Ser Erryk, please, I need to get to Jace."

Without hesitation, Ser Erryk scooped me into his arms, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. 

The movement sent a jolt of pain through my ankle, and I winced, clutching my belly protectively as he began carrying me back to my chambers.

The journey was a blur of worry and pain, every step echoing my pounding heartbeat. The closer we got to the room, the more I felt the weight of what had just happened pressing down on me. 

By the time we reached the door, I was trembling, my mind a whirlwind of fear and guilt.

As Ser Erryk pushed the door open with his shoulder, Jace shot up from his seat, his face instantly pale with alarm when he saw me cradled in Ser Erryk's arms, blood smeared on my forehead.

"What happened?" Jace's voice was sharp, edged with panic as he rushed to my side, his hands immediately reaching for me. He looked between Ser Erryk and me, desperation in his eyes. 

"What happened?" he repeated, his voice breaking.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears I had been holding back burst forth, and I began to sob uncontrollably. 

"I'm so sorry, Jace," I cried, my voice trembling with guilt. "I fell—I shouldn't have gone—I'm so sorry." The words tumbled out in a frantic rush, my apologies intertwining with my sobs.

Ser Erryk quickly explained, his voice steady but grave. "She lost her footing on the stairs, my prince. It was an accident." 

His words were meant to soothe, but they did little to ease the storm of emotions that swirled within me.

Jace's eyes softened with anguish as he knelt beside the bed where Ser Erryk gently laid me down. He cupped my face with trembling hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streamed down my cheeks.

"Shh, it's alright," Jace murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"You're alright, and that's all that matters." His fingers were gentle as they stroked my hair, trying to calm me, but I could see the fear in his eyes, the same fear that was consuming me.

"I was just so scared," I choked out, my hands still clutching my belly as if to reassure myself that our child was safe. "I should have listened to you... I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "None of this is your fault." He pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering against the cut there as if he could kiss away the pain.

But the guilt still gnawed at me. "I just wanted to walk... to feel normal," I whispered, the words heavy with regret. "But I've made everything worse."

Jace shook his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

"You didn't do anything wrong. I just want you and our child to be safe. That's all that matters to me." His voice cracked as he spoke, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as if to shield me from everything that had happened.

I buried my face in his chest, my tears soaking into his tunic as he rocked me gently. His heartbeat was strong and steady against my ear, a constant reminder that I wasn't alone, that we were in this together.

"I'll take care of you," Jace whispered his voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.

"We'll call for a maester," he continued, his tone steady and reassuring. "Everything will be alright." His gaze shifted to Ser Erryk, who stood nearby, concern etched into his features. 

With a nod of understanding, Ser Erryk left the chamber to fulfil Jace's unspoken command, the door closing softly behind him.

But as the door clicked shut, a fresh wave of anxiety washed over me. I pulled away from Jace's embrace, my hands trembling as I looked up at him, fear gripping my heart. 

"Jace... what if I've done something?" The words came out in a shaky whisper, my voice barely holding together as I voiced the deepest of my fears.

His expression softened immediately, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the remnants of my tears as he searched my eyes for the pain that haunted me.

"My love," he said, his voice tender but firm, "you've done nothing wrong." His words were like a lifeline, pulling me back from the abyss of my worries. 

"We must trust that the gods have good intentions for us. We've been blessed with this child, and we will see them into this world together."

Despite his reassurances, doubt lingered in my heart. "But what if—"

"Shh," Jace interrupted gently, pressing a finger to my lips. "No 'what ifs,'" he murmured, his gaze unwavering. "We cannot let fear dictate our lives. Whatever happens, we will face it together, as we always have."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine, and I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. The warmth of his breath against my skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the strength in his embrace all worked to calm the storm within me. 

Slowly, I began to breathe easier, the frantic pace of my thoughts slowing to match the rhythm of his heart.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice a gentle echo in the quiet room. "And I always will be."

As the moments passed, the tension in my body began to ease, replaced by a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. 

If such a rumor was going around, I would assume that you would know by Jace’s character that it was not true. Then once you dug for more information and found that it was spread by Mushroom (A Jester and fool), any doubt you might have had would be gone. Not to mention that you knew that your half-sister, Sara, and your husband, Jace, never met. 

Jace I agree would be confused, but he also would be enraged. If someone was trying to sabotage his marriage, tarnish his reputation, and worst of all, bring embarrassment or shame to you, he would see red. 

Before Jace would plan his revenge he would find you and grovel on his knees at your feet. He would beg you to believe that he did no such thing, that he would never betray you and could never love another woman the way he loved you. You’d assure him you already knew he was faithful. In response, he’d kiss your hand repeatedly as he kneeled before you and thank you for your mercy. 

Jace would want the fool’s tongue but would be talked out of such brutality by you.  “I will have his tongue for speaking such depraved lies.” He would say through gritted teeth, with his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.  You however would place a hand on his chest stopping him, “That will only strengthen his accusation, Jacaerys.” You spoke with rationality and calmness. 

So he would not. Of course, he would never go against the wisdom of his wife. But that would not stop him from verbally accosting the fool and having him banished from the keep. He would also be sure to intimidate any man or woman who dared flash a judgmental glare toward you. Anyone who dared perpetuate such a rumor would be threatened and or publicly ridiculed for speaking such disrespectful things about him and his wife's blood. 

He shifts on the mattress, lying down on his front and scooting decidedly closer to you. His laptop is open in front of him, eyes trained on the screen through his glasses, perusing the course catalogue for the spring semester. 

“Isn’t it a bit late to pick classes?” You ask, stretching your legs out in front of you, “It's December, next semester is in, like, four weeks.” 

Jace is a perfectionist, a pre-planning freak who has three calendars: a planner that he carries everywhere, a big desk calendar at his apartment for easy access while studying, and his digital calendar. Its colour coded — he has a browser extension that allows him to make events on his Google Calendar any colour. So, it's very unlike Jace, who does his schoolwork the night it's assigned, to pick classes two months after registration opened. 

“I just like to look,” He replies, “This class is Wednesday and Friday, from ten to eleven o’clock. Does that work for you?” 

You nod, because it will work. You’ll rearrange your schedule if need be. It's pathetic, really, how easily he gets you to do things.

It's quiet for a while, Jace scrolling on his computer while you fill in your study packet. 

“When is your last final?” He asks. 

“Next Friday.”

“So you’re leaving Friday?”

“No, my train ticket is for Saturday.”

“Damn, I’m leaving Tuesday,” A lull, “When do you come back.”

“The Sunday before classes start. You?”

“That Friday.”

The conversation continues like that, mindless and short but so very comfortable. It's often like that anymore, with little eye contact and no real attention paid to each other besides the brief words — and, not in the way that feels awkward or tense, but in the way that old married couples chat over morning coffee and the paper. Maybe it's the lifetime of friendship that does it, or that you spend more nights in his apartment than your dorm.

You see each other twice more before the holiday. 

The Monday that exams start you meet at the coffee shop that became yours in the first two weeks of school. The middle table by the bay window is where you always sit, and the barista has Jace’s order memorised — because he gets the same drink every time you come, a caramel macchiato. 

He groans into his hands, ignoring both his coffee and his half of the cheese danish that you’d split, “I feel like I did poorly.”

He’d suffered through days upon days of studying for the political science exam that had plagued him all semester, to be taken today at noon. It was a three-hour exam, mostly multiple choice with two essay questions. You’d been with him through the worst of the studying: in total, forty-seven pages of research papers and scholarly articles printed at the library, and six books varying from fifty to five-hundred pages. He had filled up a plethora of pages in his notebook, and at least three in a word document. There was no study guide, just a list of broad topics. He was facing the consequences of taking a 300-level class in his first semester. 

“Jace, darling,” You reply, reaching out to press a reassuring hand to his arm, “You studied for that test more than I think anyone in the history of this school has studied for anything ever. If you didn’t do well, that's a reflection of the professor, not you.”

He doesn’t seem to want much to do with that rationale, sliding his hands down to rest his chin in them. He's pouting, glasses sliding down his nose as he looks at you through his lashes, “What if I failed?”

“Then… I don’t know,” You reach up to pull one of his hands down to the table, twining your fingers, “Then you failed, and that sucks. But you’re sporting a solid one-hundred in the class now, you could get a fifty on that exam and still end with…” Quick mental math. If the exam is weighted at twenty percent, then, “- a ninety percent.”

“An A-minus,” He whines. 

“Jace,” You chastise sweetly. 

He huffs, his pouty stare turning into a glare with no heat behind it. He wants to whine and mope about exams. What harm does it truly do?

You push his half of the danish towards him, “It's over now. You studied hard, you did your best. There's nothing you can do right now to change your grade. You can’t control it, so there is no point in trying to.”

Jace likes control, he likes to be in control. A psychological idiosyncrasy plaguing many eldest children and children of divorce. The quintessential therapist's advice about what you can control and what you can’t control had been revolutionary for him during one of his bi-weekly appointments — the whole family had them, Rhaenyra and Alicent were big proponents. 

Regurgitating that to him, no matter how much it makes you feel like you’re giving unsolicited advice, always works wonders to ground him when he's disproportionately anxious over something out of his control.

He deposits you at your dorm with a kiss on the cheek that evening.

On the Friday you leave school, Jace drives you to the train station. He packs your bags into the backseat of his hoity-toity hybrid Porsche Panamera and lets you play with his radio all the way there.

You’re an hour early to the station — Jace is early everywhere. He sets his paper copy of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings on his lap in the little lobby, slipping his finger into the book where it is dogeared. Yet, he makes no effort to read, his attention solely on you. 

“A month is ages to be apart,” He says, voice soft and thoughtful.

You scoot a little closer, elbows knocking, “It won’t be so bad. We can talk.”

His watch glimmers in the overhead light of the train station when one of his hands settles safely on your knee. Small white face, silver hands and framing, thin black band — it's Gucci, something his mother wore in the nineties. His fingers trace the edge of your skirt, and in the silence begin to smooth down your kneecap to your shin. 

“You must be cold,” He murmurs, thumbing the material of your nylons. 

“I’m alright.”

Your train is called before he can shed his coat and drape it over your lap, as he so desperately wishes to do. 

He hugs you, tightly, before you board. He's so warm, his black jumper is soft against your cheek, and you can smell his cologne where your nose lands in the crook of his neck — patchouli and something earthy and fresh, Brutus Oroto Parisi. 

“God, I’ll miss you.”

One morning, a week into the holiday, a letter shows up. It’s written in the black pen he’s so fond of, and you admire his neat penmanship as you read the detailed account of his holiday celebration. You smell the expensive cologne he wears and recognize Helaena’s handmade stationery. He gives you a sheepish smile over a FaceTime call when you bring it up. 

When you see him on campus again in January, not much has changed. You're both in your respective majors, he lives in the nicest building on campus, and he hates your roommate. She’s taken to referring to him as your boyfriend; you correct her the first two times and then give up. 

Classes are harder with the emotional slump attached to winter. You talk to Jace often, but don’t see much of each other outside of class. And then you get sick. 

Banging. Loud banging. It wakes you up from your fever-and-Doxylamine induced sleep. Per college dorms, your first assumption is that it's your loud-ass fucking neighbor! Again! Having bunk-bed-breaking sex like she does every Thursday night with her ugly ass boyfriend who radiates such a strong odor of weed and computer science that you can get a noseful of him a meter down the hall. Doxylamine tends to make people agitated.

Before you can weakly pound on the cinderblock wall, there's a muffled call of your name. It comes from the hallway, and it's followed by another bang — which you begin to realize is knocking. 

Crawling out of bed, you blearily pad to the door. You don’t have to peer through the peephole to see who it is. The voice is soft, low, and endearingly posh. Clearly, it’s- 

“Jace?” You grumble when you open the door, mind foggy from the cold medicine.

It's early January in London, and the beige cashmere jumper he wears isn’t warm enough — it's a woman’s cut, but it fits him like Loro Piana himself measured the fabric to Jace’s body. The cold weather is visible in the flush of his face, the snowflakes that linger in his hair.

“I’ve been calling you for hours, darling,” He speaks gently, voice heavy with concern. 

You blink at him, not responding with anything more than a little, oh.

His hand finds your upper arm, leaning closer to hone your attention, “You look awful,” He guides the both of you back into your dorm room, “Are you unwell?” 

You nod, “My roommate brought it back from holiday break.”

Jace huffs sharply, mumbling something to himself, no doubt about your roommate. He walks you back towards your bed, gently pushing you to sit.

“Have you been to the clinic?” He asks, one hand coming to cup your cheek.

“Twice.”

His hand slides up, finers gracing your temple to push some stray hair behind your ear, and then landing upon your brow bone, “You’re burning up.”

It's quiet for a few moments, hands retracing back down to cradle your face as he inspects you. He's focused, calculating and planning in his head — it's an energy you’ve seen him embody countless times, assessing the scraped knees, bruised foreheads, and aching tummies of his younger siblings. 

“What time is it?” You ask, after watching him bustle about your room for about thirty minutes. He's such a mother hen: making tea, procuring medication you didn’t know you had, wetting flannels, adjusting your blankets.

“Ten,” He replies, settling into your twin-size bed next to you and pressing a mug of piping hot tea into your waiting hands, “It's peppermint. I wish you kept chamomile, or really anything herbal.”

You disregard his latter comment, resting your head on his shoulder. Soft. As an eighteen-hundred pound jumper should be, “You came here in the dead of night? In the snow?”

He slides his legs under the blankets, sinking down into your pile of pillows and stuffed animals and pulling you closer, “I took the bus part of the way. Plus-” His hand drags across your shoulders, “I needed to see you. You missed class today, and I haven’t heard from you since Monday. I had nearly driven myself to the brink of madness with worry.”

You groan, turning your head to bump your forehead into the jut of his shoulder, “I hadn’t thought about class,” Bump, bump, bump goes your head, “Did I miss anything important?”

He hums, looking down at you, “We had to turn in a paragraph detailing our preliminary ideas for that big Arthashastra comparison essay. Doctor Dunlavey loved your connections to the political system in The Silmarillion.”

What? You lift your head to look up at him, “I didn’t do the assignment.” You had been too sick to think about school-work.

“Well,” He shrugs, lightly enough that it doesn’t disturb you, “Who's to say? He doesn’t have your handwriting memorized, he has hundreds of students.”

You’re quiet for a long moment, “Thank you, Jace.”

He sleeps in your bed that night, insisting that you’re sick enough that someone needs to keep an eye on you. Dressed in a loose pair of your pajamas, he curls around you in the tiny bed. His body spills warmth through both of your sleepwear, and maybe it's the fever or the cold cinderblock of your dorm but there is no physical proximity that quantifies as close enough to him. 

He's gone by the time you wake up, late into the morning. Naught of him but a text.

i had to go to class and i didn’t want to wake you up, sorry

be back later x 

And true to his word, he arrives that evening with a travel mug of lavender chamomile tea and the cough medicine he makes Luke take when he’s sick. It’s so bad that you nearly choke at the taste, but he leaves the bottle and you’re better by the end of the week. 

You’re both more diligent in seeing each other going forwards.

Your phone rings one day in mid-February — a silly picture of Jace in a bright red hat, one of Helaena’s, pops up on your screen, followed by the affectionate nickname he’s saved as in your phone. 

You even get a chance to say hello, his voice immediately bursting through the speaker, “Do you have plans for the third weekend of February?” 

You think through your mental calendar, “I don’t believe so, nothing that takes priority over you at least. Why do you ask?”

You can hear him fiddling with something on the other line, the clicking of a pen echoing from his bedroom to your ear. Every year his family hosts a gala, raising an ungodly amount of money for their charitable cause by selling high-priced tickets. And everyone comes, because the Targaryens are the royalty of the one percent. 

“Come?” He asks, “Please, I think you’ll enjoy it. Plus, it’ll be like a little holiday for us.”

And again — you’re wrapped so tightly around Jace’s finger that you don’t even think before saying yes. You don’t think through many things regarding this, which lands you in a guest bedroom in Rhaenyra and Alicent’s massive London estate.

In truth, it's not a guest bedroom, but rather Daeron’s old room. It is decorated with posters of classical musicians and string instrument charts; vinyls line his bookshelf, alphabetized and all orchestral. Daeron stays with Alicent’s brother in Paris during the academic year, attending a private secondary school with a music-based curriculum. He had been practically a prodigy at the violin. 

The room is sandwiched between Luke and Aemond, directly across the hall from Jace. There are a number of guest rooms in the house, but they’re all the next floor up and Jace had insisted that you stay across the hall from him. It does feel a bit odd to change into your pretty black dress while staring down a battalion of Daeron’s music awards and a very large framed photo of Otto Hightower. 

“I don’t mean to be judgemental, but who keeps a photo like this of their grandfather in their bedroom?” You ask, adjusting the straps of the dress, “I would understand if he was dead, but Otto is… not.”

Jace laughs from where he lounges on the bed, scrolling through something on his phone. After nearly two decades of friendship, there's little that hasn’t been seen and very lax boundaries. He had watched you change innumerable times before, but today his eyes are decidedly diverted onto his phone. 

“Good?” You ask, turning from the mirror, and giving him a spin. 

Jace stares, uncharacteristically quiet. His eyes are trained on you, scanning the dress, mouth closed and brows drawn so slightly you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know him so well. He's a bit rigid where he’s propped up on the bed, clearly contemplating. 

After an unnerving amount of time, really only five seconds, he speaks, “You look nice.”

It's… odd. Measured and closed off, a complex thought that you don’t have the context from his internal monologue to understand. Did he not like it? Or was he stunned into silence by your sheer, Goddess-like beauty?

“We match,” You offer meekly, gesturing between your dress and his black suit jacket and slacks. A lame comparison. Nearly everyone at these events wore black.

But he smiles nonetheless, a genuine smile that shows off his pretty dimples, “We do.” 

Jacaerys drives to the event, and you’re squished in the too-small backseat of his car, between Lucerys and Aemond. Aegon is in the passenger seat, talking incessantly, and Jace wishes he would shut up so he can think about the silky material of your dress in peace. 

It's a precarious set-up, truly. Jace drives a four-door, but it isn’t meant for six adolescents in formal attire. Aemond is stiff as a rod next to you, pointedly staring out the window and only interacting to bite back at anything Aegon says. Occasionally his bony elbow will bump your side or his knee will knock into yours, and he’ll pull away as if you’re red hot, shooting you a glanced glare. 

The radio is its own battle. Upon entering the car it had connected automatically to Jace’s phone, playing a few seconds of the theory podcast he had been listening to and earning a collective groan. Luke was quick to sync his phone instead, the Ramones brash drums blaring from the speakers. Aegon changed it to chav rap. It ensued like that for the whole car ride — punk rock to rap, volume up and down and up and down. 

The ballroom is glorious. All high domed ceilings and white crown moulding and gold leaf details. There’s a massive chandelier in the centre of the room that drips with perfect crystals. An astonishing world it was that Jacaerys grew up in. Overwhelming 

“Are you alright?” Jace murmurs, hooking his arm into yours as your shoes click against the marble floor. He can sense your unease, feel it in the way your forearm tenses at any particularly fast movement or loud aristocratic laugh. 

“Fine,” You assure, shooting him a smile.

Of course, Jace doesn’t buy it. Your pretty smile doesn’t reach your eyes, it's tighter than normal. He knows things like that — he’ll never admit it, but every one of your microexpressions are programmed into his brain. 

Arm-in-arm the pair of you reach a semi-circle near the bar. Rhaenyra, Corlys, Luke, and Helaena. The boring financial drivel meets your ears from several paces away, and it's mind-numbing up close. 

‘I don’t think you can quantify the inherent need for biodegradable fuel in those metrics.’ 

‘Well, I would argue that you can. In such a high output industry you have to calculate the necessity for every pence.’ 

You nod along, putting up a convincing facade of business intellect while Jace adds in expertly to the dull conversation. Helaena, to Rhaenyra’s left, is about as interested as you.

It's only when Otto breaks into the group, and the conversation shifts from the most cost effective biofuel to is shipping on a mass scale a pertinent trade in post-Brexit England that you’re pulled away. Though not by Jace, who has become more engrossed in the conversation than he is in you, but by Luke. 

“You seemed to be drowning,” He smiles up at you, offering his arm. 

You take it gladly, “Thank you for saving me.”

“Don’t worry, I was drowning too.”

Activity on the balcony is scant; one lady sits in a metal chair sipping a glass of champagne, an elderly man stands at the far end of the railing peering at the London cityscape down below. Luke leans his elbows against the rail, propping his head up in one hand. 

“How's college?” He asks, looking up at you.

You hum, leaning down to mimic his posture, “Oh, it's fine. It's a lot of work,” There's a lull in the conversation as the two of you bask in the lack of hustle and bustle, “Have you started thinking about college yet?”

He shrugs noncommittal, picking at the nails of his free hand. He's very quiet for a while, and you allow him that because every life decision feels massive and dire at fifteen. When he does speak, his voice is soft, “Grandfather said that he wanted me to inherit his business after my dad, but now mum is talking about me being her successor.”

“You’d be good at it.”

“Jace doesn’t want to inherit.”

“I know.”

“He wants to be a lawyer, like Alicent. And I don’t blame him, but that puts a lot of pressure on me. Because now it's like I have mum and grandpa expecting me to be great, and I stand in their conversations and I don’t understand half of what they’re saying-”

“Luke,” You softly interject in his rushed rant, running a careful hand down his arm, “No one expects you to be perfect. You’re still a child, you’ve not even taken your A-Levels yet.

He nods solemnly.

“I know that it feels like the weight of your family legacy rests on your shoulders, but if you also defer inheritance it will be just fine. You have, what — like, ten siblings?” He gives a little laugh at your reasoning, “Plus, Laena and Baela, and Rhaena who could take over after your father.”

Luke nods, “I suppose you’re right,” He elbows you gently in the ribs, “You’re pretty wise, you know?”

It's your turn to laugh, nudging him back, “So, what do you want to do after school?”

He traces mindless little stars into the railing, “I’d really like to study music. Some of my friends and I have been playing together, and we’re talking about starting a band.”

“That's really cool, Luke!” You beam.

He smiles sheepishly, “I mean, it's nothing grand yet. We haven’t decided a name, and we’re a bit at odds about a genre.”

“Well,” You smile, “When you lot play, let me know. I’ll be in the front row!”

The calm quiet is broken when the door to the balcony opens, “Luke, darling. Mummy needs you.”

You both turn to see Alicent peering out of the doorway, body still inside the ballroom. Her arm slips around your waist in an endearingly maternal way as the three of you make your way back towards Rhaenyra.

“How are you, lovely?” She asks, rubbing between your shoulder blades. Her pear and saffron perfume, Guidance Amouage, floods your olfactory senses.

“Well!” You reply, leaning into her warm touch, “This is all so wonderful. I’m very glad Jace invited me.”

She smiles back, “Me too.”

Being a guest of the host by extension, you’re required to stay for the duration. So, you watch people dissipate as your energy dwindles. By the end of the night, nearly eleven, your upright position relies heavily on the support of Jace’s arm around your waist as he chats with his grandmother, Rhaenys. Politics, environmentalism, blah blah, drivel, drivel. You might do more to participate if the five hours of nonstop interaction and three glasses of champagne weren’t pulling your body towards the ground, but you settle for little engaged nods. 

The car is less crowded on the way back — much to everyone's chagrin, Aegon called an Uber halfway through the gala. You’re allowed the front seat, and spend most of the ride dozing off to the tune of The Velvet Underground & Nico, 1967.

You sleep in Jace’s bed that night, despite your own quarters being directly across the hall.

When Jacaerys realises he’s in love with you, you’re crying in the library stairwell. 

“I’m fucked,” You sob into your hands, shoulders shaking with the force of your misery. 

You had been studying together, preparing for the rest of your midterms when a notification came through your school email with an updated exam grade. 

Sheer terror, cold unyielding panic that starts just below your throat and twists its way down your spine and back into your lower intestine. The grade was a forty-two, which brought your total grade down to a fifty-eight. 

In the least melodramatic way possible you’d shut your laptop and told Jace you were going to the bathroom. But the bathroom was at the back of the room, and you had gone to the hallway — plus, he just knew better.

Gentle footsteps, you see his Sambas first and hear the crack of his knees as he sits next to you on the stair step. 

“You’re not fucked,” He murmurs back, his voice low and soft. One arm comes around your stooped shoulders, the soft fabric of his cardigan brushing the back of your neck, “It's only midterms, angel. This is nothing that you can’t reverse.”

The first thought in your head is easy for perpetual straight-A student Jacaerys to say, the next thought is much more self-pitying. You don't voice either, head falling to your knees.

You aren’t allowed to stay like that for long, firm hands come to your arms and pull you up. From there, they run slowly up and down — from your scapula to your bicep, over and over. And his chest blooms with warmth when you respond well, calming down. He runs his thumb over the soft skin underneath your eyes — first the left eye, and then the right — brushing away tears. 

Jace’s typical form of comfort plays on his lifelong role as eldest sibling; it's usually coddling, while he mothers you and tries to problem solve. This is not that. It's something deeper, more genuinely concerned. He isn’t trying to solve your ailment, he just wants to make you feel better. 

“It's just a grade,” He soothes, “It's just an exam, a midterm. This makes up maybe ten percent of your overall grade, and I know that you do well on everything else,” His head is cocked, looking at you so sweetly, “I bet it only looks this bad because it's mid-semester, your score will go up in a few weeks.”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as the last stray tears fall. 

“You’re alright,” He whispers, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the apple of your cheek, “Hm?”

Jace is alone that night, Montblanc pen held in perfect writing posture as he journals — an exercise recommended by his mother. The highlights include:

It was gutting. I just wanted to make it better & I didn’t know how. 

Inappropriate time to kiss her face, I couldn’t think of anything else.

I’m usually so good at comfort and reassurance, I don’t know what's wrong with me. 

Fuck, I’m hopeless. 

Things feel different to me now. Not in a particularly bad sense, just different. Maybe it's the transition from childhood friendship to adult friendship. 

I read that god awful serial romance novel last holiday because grandma left it sitting out – A Wallflower Christmas by Lisa Kelypas. And I remember this passage like ‘I want you under me. I know you deserve more respect than that.’

I found it, “I want you under me. On your back. / I’m sorry. You deserve more respect than that. But I can’t stop thinking of it. Your arms and legs around me. Your mouth, open for my kisses. I need too much of you. A lifetime of nights spent between your thighs wouldn't be enough. / I want to talk with you forever. I remember every word you’ve ever said to me. / If only I could visit you as a foreigner goes into a new country, learn the language of you, wander past all borders into every private and secret place. I would stay forever. I would become a citizen of you.”

I’ve been thinking of that passage, like it's playing aloud in my head. What does that mean? 

I don’t particularly feel that for her. 

I get some of it, like ‘I want to talk with you forever, I remember every word you say.’ Anything else though, the romantic bits, I don’t. 

Though, the kissing her face was new. It was compulsive almost, like I had to do it. 

Need to call mum. 

“Is it fair to you?” Rhaenyra asks through the phone. It's late, past the time she puts the little kids to bed, but she's never not answered a phone call from one of her children. 

Jace sighs, worrying one of the buttons on his cardigan, “What if it ruins everything?” He asks, “What if I tell her, and she never speaks to me again and then I lose my best friend?”

“But is that fair, Jace?” She reasons, “To go about a lifetime of friendship keeping this massive secret from her? It won’t go away, my love. It will fester and fester and eat at you for as long as you know her.”

He doesn’t have a good reply to that.

“Jacaerys, I spent twenty years pining after my best friend — so long that I had time to marry, have three children, and divorce. I spent years and years suffocating in regret, because I missed my chance to tell her and build a life. I got another chance, which is very rare, and it was no less scary that time. But, I knew that if I didn’t go for it then I would never have the opportunity to live the life I had spent my entire adolescence dreaming of,” Rhaenyra sighs, “My sweet boy, don’t let this slip away because you’re afraid.” 

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, he thinks. 

When you accompany him home for summer break, hand in hand, it's with a new depth to your relationship. ‘Tis better to have loved.

tags<3 @one-big-fangirl

His keys jingle when he struggles to pull it out from you busted lock, unknowingly stirring you from your sleep on the couch. Failing at his quiet maneuver through your apartment to surprise you.

You’d told him not to visit you, not knowing whether or not the stuffiness of your nose or the scratchiness of your throat was contagious, and as much as you wanted to cuddle into his warm chest and smell his shampoo despite your stuffy nose, you didn’t want to get him sick when he needed to be on the ice in a few weeks. But as you predicted, he’s come sneaking into your apartment with his mothers chicken noodle soup on one hand, a stack of Rom-Com DVDs on the other, and a bouquet of flowers under his armpit.

You listen to him make himself at home in the kitchen, not moving from your spot under a bunch of laundry on your couch. Hearing him take out something from under your sink before you hear the water run.

You roll you eyes at the slight smell of the chicken soup, unable to control the growing smile on your face. Your sweet sweet, stubborn boyfriend. Who would rather get benched in his games than leave you alone bedridden.

A thought enters your mind when you hear his light footsteps make its way to your bedroom. Deciding to teach this man a lesson for ignoring your warnings.

You lift your hands up suddenly, throwing all your clothes in different directions, roaring loudly at his direction. “JACAERYS!”

“HOLY SHIT!” The stack of DVDs he was holding clattered on the ground, his hands clutching his heart at your scream.

For a moment only his heavy breathing could be heard before you couldn’t take it any longer and your shoulders start to shake as you giggle under your breath. The look on his face morphs from disbelief to adoration the longer he looks at you giggling form and laughter starts to echo across the room.

Until it was broken by your coughing and he immediately runs toward your form, disregarding the scattered DVD cases and holding up the water bottle to you lips while his other hand ran up and down your back. Going up to brush away the hairs that has stuck to your sweaty forehead. His brows furrowing in worry when the back of his hand made contact with your flaming skin. You head starts spinning and you don’t know if its the sudden movement of your scare or the sight of Jacaerys so close after a few days of being apart. Either way you were starting to regret standing too fast.

You lean your head back the couch huffing as you squeezed your eyes shut, exhaustion crawling back into your body, making your limbs feel heavy as you attempted to bury yourself back into your dirty laundry making Jace tut in disapproval. “No, nope. C’mere.” Your groan of disapproval turning into cough once again, leading you to accept defeat and let yourself be carried bridal style to your bedroom.

He shivers when you bury your face in the crook of his neck, your hot forehead a pleasant surprise against his skin. You squeeze your eyes shut when he sets you down on your armchair, your head spinning from the slightest of movements. Which he notices and kisses your forehead, apologizing softly against your warm skin, ”M’sorry, love.” before moving to tear off your old sheets and replace it with fresh ones.

Once again pecking your forehead in apology when you groaned in frustration when he wouldn’t let you lay down, fluffing up your pillows behind you and adding another one beneath your feet. “Wanna lay down.” You pouted, thinking he would take pity at your miserable state but he only cooed at you. “I know, I know. I just want you to eat a little first, alright?” He couldn’t help but smile as the grumpy look on your face only worsened.

On a normal day, that adorable pout on your lips would’ve been enough for him to give in to your whims, and while your adorable sneezes have him swooning, he couldn’t stand seeing you sick anymore.

It wasn’t long before he came back with a steaming bowl of his mother’s chicken noodle soup and one of the DVDs you recognized as ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’. You hated to admit it, but the smell of freshly made soup had your stomach grumbling loud enough for Jacaerys to smirk at you at the sound.

He made himself comfortable in front of you, bringing up the spoon to his lips to blow at the steam before slowly bringing the spoon to your lips. Feeling the warm soup settle inside your stomach makes you sigh in relief, after only eating cereal for the past few days, your body is finally getting proper food and you can only thank Rhaenyra for creating your beautifully stubborn man. And her chicken noodle soup recipe.

You wouldn’t be surprised if Rhaenyra had encouraged her son to barge in—she probably started cooking the soup the moment Jacaerys told her he’d be leaving so you could get freshly made tender chicken and perfectly sautéed lettuce and carrots.

He repeats his actions, scraping the spoon against the corner of your mouth when soup would drip through.

As the soup fills your stomach more and more, Jacaerys draws closer and closer to you—to feed you properly, he said. And as much as you wanted to feel his warm body against yours and bury your face in his chest, him feeding you at arms length is all you’re going to risk.

But before you could even notice, the bowl was set on your nightstand with him cuddled to your side. Your tired mind barely noticing him press a kiss on the side of your head until you felt him nuzzle his face into your hair, shrugging him off when you realized the state you were in. “’m stinky, Jace.”

The look on his face was one of pure offense, sharp jaw dropped as his face twists in confusion at your remark. Hands reaching for your own, “What does that have to do with anything?” you let him take your hand in his when you felt it twitch, like he was itching for the simplest contact between you. You looked at him like he’d grown two more heads, wondering if you boyfriend has gone dumb, and not in the way you would’ve preferred. “Have you forgotten you have a game next week.”

“And?”

His head tilts his head to the side as if you were speaking gibberish, those brown eyes of his filled with genuine confusion. The idea of putting something so small as a college game over you seemed foreign to him. If he was being honest, he felt genuinely offended you would even consider that a possibility.

“I don’t care if you have the deadliest sickness known to humanity. I’m want to take care of you.” He declared, bringing your hand to his lips before trailing kisses up your arm. Looking at you through his lashes when he pressed his forehead against your temple.

“I don’t want—” You try to say but your boyfriend is nothing if not persuasive. “To get me sick, yes, I know—” He gets interrupted when a series of sneezes escapes your nose, chuckling softly when you rubbed your nose frustratedly. “You should also know that I’ll take everything you’ll give me.”

“Every word, every argument, every touch—everything. Including sickness, you hear me?” Eyes never leaving yours as he grabbed a few tissues from your nightstand before softly wiping your nose, being careful not to rub it raw.

You nodded sheepishly, feeling your body flush with something other than your fever. You watch as he pulls away to play the movie, giggling when he practically tackled you with his plump lips peppering kisses across your cheeks, making exaggerated ‘muah’ sounds before mumbling against your cheek.

”You underestimate my immune system.”

His hands sneak their way underneath your sleep shirt, thumbs tickling the underside of your boob, taking you by surprise when he pulled it off your body in one swift movement, and burying his face on your chest as the movie plays in the background.

You sighed heavily, your clear sinuses breathing in the fresh air and scent of the flowers outside of the Targaryen’s massive house. Your brows still furrowed in worry from when you found out Jace couldn’t make the game, leaving the rink immediately.

The aroma of chicken noodle soup fresh in the air as you made your way through the familiar path to your boyfriend’s room and the sight that greets you has you cooing. You boyfriend, bundled in a cocoon of his thick blanket with only his face visible as his plump lips stay ajar to breath in the air he couldn’t through his stuffy red nose.

His lashes flutter as a groan escapes his scratchy throat after hearing the door open. Immediately trying to sit up at the sight of you, groaning in pain and letting you fluff his pillows before laying back down.

You watch as his pale face turn red when he giggles at you sweetly, your hand reaching out to tuck a stray curl from his sweaty forehead behind his ear.

“I’ve underestimated my immune system.”

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐦'𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤 (𝐠𝐞𝐧. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭): @still-jon-snow

The name of that woman was met with reverence. As a queen who openly defied patriarchal traditions, her strength and ambition embodied the very essence of legends. She was known for making tough decisions without hesitation, placing duty and power above all else. To some, she was a visionary; to others, a tyrant. Yet no one, not even your father, could deny her cunning and ability to manipulate the political landscape to her advantage, always steering her destiny with unyielding control.

Marrying the son of the queen Rhaenyra meant joining a lineage forged in fire and blood, a dynasty accustomed to winning at any cost. The thought sent a chill down your spine, knowing you were about to become part of something so vast and merciless.

The air in the room grew heavier as the whispers faded into silence, and although there was plenty of air around you, it felt as though you were drowning. Your fists were clenched in your lap as reality slowly seeped through your body, tightening its grip on your heart. Across the table, your father, Lord Lannister, sat silently, his eyes fixed on you with a cold, relentless gaze. The barely perceptible warmth that had once lingered in his stare was now completely replaced by a biting chill, making you lower your head and shift your eyes to your hands in an attempt to escape the penetrating judgment that surrounded you.

You felt sullied, but more than that, you felt utterly lost.

You couldn't understand why your father was looking at you with such severity, especially when he was the one who had arranged your betrothal to the crown prince. It was even more perplexing to realize that he had made this arrangement behind your back, fully aware of the ominous rumors circulating through the stone corridors of Casterly Rock-rumors depicting Jacaerys Velaryon as a man of ruthless ambition, a volatile temperament, and a sense of duty that often bordered on cruelty.

The rumors your father shared about the crown prince were disturbing, to say the least. Though you had never met him personally, you had heard from your father and the other lords about his boundless ambition and unpredictable temperament. It was said that he was a man whose sense of duty often veered into harshness, driven by a calculated pursuit of power that sacrificed compassion and humanity for his goals, exactly like his mother, and the idea of marrying someone so dedicated to conquest and control only heightened your apprehension. 

Nevertheless, the decision your father made left you stunned. How could he, who always claimed to act in your best interest, force you into such a cruel and desperate position? How could he send you to face someone whose reputation for cruelty he himself had helped to spread?

You couldn’t understand how the father you had trusted so deeply could impose such a harsh and merciless future on you. He wasn’t perfect, but you had hoped he would at least fulfill his role and be a good father. Yet, he proved you wrong.

The weight of betrayal and helplessness was overwhelming. The silence that enveloped the room seemed to amplify your sense of being trapped in a situation not of your making. Every distant whisper and glance now felt like a direct assault, heightening your feeling of isolation.

The reality of your predicament pressed down on you, making the silence almost unbearable. You could feel the tension in the room, thick and suffocating, as if the very walls were closing in, leaving you nowhere to turn.

When one of the lords shifted in his seat, the sound startled you, causing you to flinch. Unable to meet his questioning gaze, you kept your eyes on your lap, trying to memorize the gold and red patterns on your dress, struggling to ignore the constant, gnawing presence of scrutiny.

And even without the whispers, the weight of every gaze felt tangible, as if silent condemnations hung in the air. Your father's unwavering, cold stare only deepened your sense of betrayal, making you feel small and insignificant in an atmosphere that already felt suffocating and heavy.

After a few minutes, as if finally sensing that the moment—or perhaps you—had reached its limit, your father moved abruptly in his chair, letting the sun beam shine into his eyes, making him complain slightly. This small disturbance was enough to shift the attention of everyone in the room, who turned their gazes from you to Lord Lannister with a mix of curiosity and subtle apprehension.

"Leave us." He ordered after a few seconds, cutting through the oppressive silence that had settled in with a sharp, commanding tone. He didn't even spare a glance at the others in the room; his furrowed brows and the rigid, unyielding posture made it abundantly clear that he wasn't about to entertain any questions or objections. His mere presence commanded immediate obedience, and no one dared to challenge him. No one would be foolish enough to challenge Lord Lannister in his own home.

Biting your lip anxiously, you kept your gaze fixed on your lap, tracing your finger over the small lions in the dress’s pattern. As the lords began to rise, their footsteps echoed off the stone floor, their murmurs—now almost audible—starting up again as they moved toward the exit. Yet, you kept your head lowered, focusing on steadying your breath and straining to catch the distant sounds of the wind outside, desperately trying to fend off the anxiety gripping your insides.

As the lords' footsteps faded, the weight of the moment seemed to grow heavier with each passing second. The sense of being on the brink of a life-altering decision was overwhelming. You felt isolated, powerless to change the course of events, and faced with an almost tangible sense of the unknown pressing against your chest.

When the last lord left and the heavy doors shut, their echo reverberated through the stone walls like a warning. With only you and your father left, the room felt like it was closing in. The air was thick with the tension that hadn't faded with the others' departure. The silence that followed wasn't comforting; it was a suffocating weight, pressing on your chest and making it harder to breathe, pushing you to steady yourself in a struggle to regain control.

Looking up, you met your father's unyielding gaze. He watched you with cold, judgmental detachment as you anxiously bit your lip, and the icy intensity of his stare on your nervous behavior made you release your lower lip as a shiver ran down your spine. His rigid posture, assessing you with merciless precision, made it seem as though he didn't see his daughter but merely a pawn in a ruthless game of power, to be moved regardless of what it meant for you.

The feeling of betrayal cut deep, though you had long stopped expecting anything different.

Then, shattering the oppressive silence in the room, your father rose from his seat and began to walk toward you. Each step echoed with a weight that seemed to reverberate through the very walls, his boots hitting the floor with such force that they nearly drowned out the frantic beating of your heart.

Stopping in front of you, your dad scratched his throat lightly, prompting you to take a deep, pouty breath. You turned to him, your expression a mix of confusion and hurt, causing him to wrinkle his nose slightly. He lifted his chin with a smug air, his cold gaze unwavering.

"If you are awaiting an apology," he began, his voice edged with disdain, "you may as well abandon the expectation now." You struggled to maintain your composure, fighting the urge to glance at the opulent decorations on the wall for any distraction from the harshness of his stare.

Of course, an apology would never come from him; you hadn’t held any hope for it.

Fixing his gaze on your fingers, nervously tracing patterns on the fabric of your red dress, your father rubbed his forehead in irritation. For a brief moment, a flicker of doubt seemed to soften his stern expression.

"I did what was necessary," he spoke again, his voice carrying a rare touch of gentleness, aware that your silence was unyielding, but despite his softer tone, the firmness and gravity in his words remained unchanged. "You are a woman, and above all, a Lannister; marrying into greatness or being part of it is in your blood.”

His declaration felt like a crushing defeat, and the bitterness in your mouth made it hard to tell whether the weight of his words or your own desolation was more oppressive. Noticing your head once again bow in defeat, his gaze grew even colder. His eyes, which had offered a hint of softness, briefly fixed on the golden paintings on the walls of the room, as if seeking distraction from the sentimental conversations he disliked. However, the coldness in his gaze remained unchanged, almost as if he wanted to reinforce the possibly unhappy future he had laid out for you. 

Lord Lannister took a step back and lightly adjusted his clothes, noting that you were clearly not going to speak. You nearly sighed with relief as you saw his shadow move slightly away from the table.

“You may find this difficult now, daughter,” he said again, the sound of his boots echoing as they entered your ears along with his sharp voice. Yet, your heart seemed to skip a beat when he called you "daughter." “But in time, you will understand that this was for the best. What you are about to do is part of something much greater, something beyond what you can see right now.” He continued, and you bit your lip once more, unable to lift your gaze from the fabric of your dress.

The marriage, your father’s indifferent treatment of it, and the daunting reality of becoming the future queen consort and mother to the future ruler of Westeros felt like a weight too great to bear. For a fleeting instant, you wondered if your betrothed had faced a similar turmoil when he first heard the news. But you swiftly dismissed such thoughts, haunted by the tales of his ruthless nature. Too afraid to have a second thought.

Lord Lannister took another step toward the door, his cloak trailing like a dark shadow over the cold stone floor. “Make your preparations,” he instructed, and you glanced up just enough to see him open the door, his back resolute, his gaze unfeeling. “In a few days, you will depart for Dragonstone.” With a final, authoritative word, he closed the door behind him, the sound resonating through the walls and making your heart ache.

Finally left alone in the room, you curled into yourself, drawing your knees tightly to your chest. With your head bowed, the tears you had kept at bay for so long finally began to fall.

The weather was not pleasant in Kings Landing.

For three interminable weeks since your arrival at the Red Keep, the skies had remained perpetually overcast, and the relentless rain had not ceased for even a moment.

Wish as you might, it was peculiar to say the least—despite this being your first visit to the Capital, you had always been told by merchants and villagers that the Capital’s weather was milder than that of the Westerlands, though its people were more arrogant and petty. Yet, to your chagrin, you found both claims to be mistaken.

You had not had the opportunity to meet many people within the Red Keep. Your interactions were limited to a few servants who, unlike those in your own household, extended a measure of respect towards you. You also encountered some nobles who, despite their aloof demeanor and occasional condescension, chose to withhold their judgments and refrain from speaking of you in whispers.

On the other side , your betrothed's family proved to be a pleasantly unexpected surprise. Although you had met them, their treatment of you was surprising. Despite your initial reservations, you found yourself genuinely appreciating their demeanor more than you had anticipated.

His younger brothers were charming and exhibited a genuine warmth towards you. Whenever you exchanged words with them, your heart would quicken at the thought of having such affectionate and adorable siblings like Lucerys, Joffrey, and, of course, the little twins, who, despite their tender age and limited speech, were always eager to play with you. 

In contrast, when you arrived at the fortress, his cousins, Rhaena and Baela, made a strong impression. They were the first to greet you, guiding you through the stone corridors with ease and engaging you in lighthearted gossip. Their linked arms and gentle smiles created a welcoming atmosphere, helping you to feel more at ease amidst the grandeur of the fortress.

The impression left by the Queen and King consort was notably different. Their presence conveyed undeniable authority, and their demeanor naturally inspired a sense of apprehension. This reflected some of the rumors you had heard about them. Despite this, their treatment of you was unexpectedly kind, providing a surprising degree of comfort amidst the formality and gravity of their status.

Yet you had not had the opportunity to meet your future husband. Despite your attempts to learn about him, the family that had welcomed you so warmly consistently avoided any discussion of his person. Whenever his name arose, they quickly changed the subject, a practice that only heightened your unease. This persistent evasion led you to ponder whether the rumors of his alleged cruelty might indeed have some truth to them.

You hoped that this was the reason you now stood before the towering wall, your wedding cross firmly clutched in your hand, after hastening through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep. It seemed as though the cross might offer the comfort and strength that your heart so desperately yearned for.

However, though the cross afforded you a measure of solace, the imposing wall before you offered nothing but a stark contrast. With a deep breath, you resolved to go ahead, turning with determination toward the tree beside you, intent on scaling it to reach the other side.

And even though doubts about your decision were increasingly overtaking your thoughts, your pride would not permit you to retreat. Not in that moment.

Taking tentative steps toward the tree, you hesitated, adjusting the cross around your neck one last time. With a deep breath, you lifted your dress and began to climb the tree awkwardly, nervously watching your feet as you ascended.

Truth be told, you had never engaged in anything of the sort before. While you had observed your older brothers undertaking various daring exploits, your own experiences were vastly different. Forever engrossed in books or strolling through the gardens of your home, you had never ventured into their adventurous pursuits, and even despite your yearning to join them, they consistently excluded you, insisting that girls lacked the courage for such undertakings.

Yet here you were, clambering up the tree with hasty but clumsy efforts, striving to escape a grim destiny after being sold as a mere pawn by your own father. So absorbed were you in your plight that you failed to perceive a pair of brown eyes drawing near, observing you with a hint of quiet amusement.

You could already see the sea on the other side of the wall and feel the sudden wind hit your flushed face gently. For a moment, you were so distracted that you barely noticed your foot that was now stepping lightly on the back of your dress, and before you could realize anything, you lost your balance.

Just as you began to fall, strong arms seized you mid-descent, pulling you back before calamity could strike. The stranger had moved with startling swiftness, and before you could fully grasp what had transpired, you found yourself securely held in his embrace, your feet barely brushing the ground.

His hold was firm yet gentle, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to still, as did your breath. You looked up, startled, and met a pair of amused yet strangely beguiling brown eyes, close enough for you to discern an indescribable color within them. A faint smile played upon his lips as he aided you in regaining your balance, watching intently as you dusted the hem of your red skirt; his expression still touched with quiet amusement.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice how strikingly handsome the young man was.

You opened your mouth to offer your thanks, but the stranger interjected with smooth courtesy. “It seems the tree bears you no favor, my lady,” he remarked, his voice tinged with refined irony. As you took a step back, his gaze remained unwavering, and he continued with an air of gentle provocation, “May I inquire what grand quest compelled you to seek what lies beyond the wall?”

You blinked in embarrassment, your fingers instinctively gripping the cross around your neck, unwilling to disclose the harsh reality of your future. Meanwhile, the stranger's lips curled into a subtle smile as he noted your reaction, though you remained unaware of his quiet amusement.

It was a rare sight to see a lady in such haste, particularly when she was his betrothed.

“So?” He inquired with a casual tone, a hint of mockery in his voice as he observed the flush of annoyance rising to your cheeks.

Raising your chin, you tried to meet his gaze with composure, though you faltered slightly when he remained unmoved. “I do not see how this is any of your concern, my lord,” you finally said, irritation clear in your voice as you tightened your grip on the cross. Jacaerys, upon hearing your words, tilted his head back and laughed heartily, leaving you bewildered; his evident satisfaction seemed to grow with the sharpness of your response.

Jacaerys had not anticipated that his betrothed would be so defensive, yet he could not deny that he was intrigued by the tone of your voice. “It appears,” he began, his voice taking on a measured curiosity as he studied your face and felt his own heartbeat quicken while he noticed how the wind gently tousled your hair, “that you possess a spirit I had not expected. This surely bodes well for our future encounters.” He attempted to flirt, clearing his throat slightly to hide a smile when he saw your confused expression directed at him.

You clearly did not grasp the meaning behind his words, nor did you have any desire to understand his intentions. The day had already been fraught with mishaps—first, you had narrowly escaped injury from a fall, and now you found yourself in the garden of your betrothed’s castle, unwittingly admiring the presence of a man you had thought was a stranger.

Sweat dampened your palms, and your heart pounded heavily. For a moment, you thought you were enduring the torment of sinners, and a wave of shame overtook you.

Perhaps this was a divine punishment from the Seven for daring to flee the fate that had been decreed for you.

"What do you intend by that?" you inquired, releasing your wedding cross and lightly folding your arms in front of your chest. Jacaerys had to exercise considerable self-discipline to refrain from briefly casting his gaze upon your bosom. You’re too pretty, too hot to be true. You are far too beautiful, too captivating, for reality to bear.

“Me? Nothing at all, my lady. Save for the fact that I had not expected to meet my betrothed under such... curious circumstances,” the prince replied with a casual air, his voice tinged with wry amusement, as though the matter were of no import. The moment his words reached your ears, your breath stilled, a sudden wave of disbelief washing over you—he must surely be toying with you.

Your hand rose once more to the cross at your neck, fingers trembling as your gaze fell upon him, and there, hanging from his throat, gleamed a matching cross. Your heart, before steady, now raced with a force that echoed through your very being.

Before you stood none other than the crowned prince, a man whose reputation, stained by dark tales and bloodshed, echoed throughout the Westerlands, and even worse, the man destined to become your future lord and husband. To deepen your dismay, you had made a spectacle of yourself in a vain attempt to escape the impending marriage set for the following week. It felt as though some celestial force took cruel delight in your misfortune.

Jacaerys let out a soft chuckle, his gaze still filled with amusement as it lingered upon you. His eyes drifted to your neck, now flushed with embarrassment, yet he remained silent, merely folding his arms across his chest and waiting for you to break the silence.

You blinked slowly, striving to fully grasp the weight of the revelation you had just received. As the truth settled within you, your eyes widened in surprise. Releasing the cross from around your neck, you performed a courteous bow, murmuring, “I—I deeply apologize, my prince.” You shut your eyes tightly, bracing yourself for the anticipated reprimand or punishment. Instead, you felt a gentle touch on your hand, and when you finally dared to look up, you met your betrothed’s gaze, now softened with unexpected tenderness. He drew you gently to your feet and brought you close to him.

“Apologies are not needed, my lady,” he said with sincere warmth, drawing closer in a way that might have seemed improper were it not for your betrothal. Yet he cared little for such formalities, his heart quickening as the soft scent of you reached his nostrils.

"Besides, I must confess that this first encounter was quite unexpected." He paused, his gaze softening as he regarded your startled expression and parted lips. "Yet, it is most gratifying," he concluded with a sincere smile. Noting your visible discomfort, his smile softened into a tender frown, and he took a step back to afford you more space.

Jacaerys was well aware of Lord Lannister’s disdain for him, and he had no illusions about the sentiment being mutual. He knew of the cruel rumors Lord Lannister spread about his true nature—rumors that, though largely unfounded, were completely absurd and far from the truth of his character. It was no secret, despite Lord Lannister’s attempts at discretion, that the man harbored a deep-seated loathing for the Westerlands.

The fact that you had been sent to him, despite your evident fear, only served to deepen the prince’s dislike for the man. What sort of father would cast his daughter away when he had spent a lifetime cultivating her fears?

He was aware of your fear; upon his return from travels, his first action was to inquire about your well-being from his mother and cousins. Their accounts were unwavering: you feared the union and, indeed, feared him. This knowledge weighed heavily on him. He had been pledged to you not as a source of dread but as your protector, meant to soothe your anxieties, not to heighten them. The thought of causing you such discomfort was nearly unbearable to him.

“So you vow you will not harm me?” You asked after a few moments, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Seeing him shake his head in denial, you took a hesitant step toward your bethrothed.

The prince did not seem so cruel up close; indeed, he appeared rather charming—too charming.

Jacaerys moved closer to you as he saw your posture visibly relax, his cold hand quickly resting on the curve of your neck while his thumb gently caressed your throat. This made your cheeks flush furiously, and you instinctively leaned into his touch. “I am prepared to offer you all my love” he confessed, his voice low yet gentle, sending a shiver through you and deepening your blush. “And I hope you will do the same.” He admitted, and without realizing it, you took another step toward him.

“What if I cannot?” you dared to ask in a hushed tone, feeling his fingers gently trace the cross upon your neck.

He smiled, lowering his head close to your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he placed a soft kiss, causing you to bite your lip in response. “If you cannot bring yourself to love me, even just a little,” he murmured against your skin, his cool breath stirring a shiver within you, “then I suggest you hate me entirely.” He concluded with one final, lingering kiss near your wedding cross.

Stepping back with deliberate grace, Jacaerys turned away, casting one final glance over his shoulder. He left you standing alone in the midst of the garden, your heart racing.

And though you might not yet admit it, the urge to flee had waned, and in its place, a budding resolve to love him began to grow within you.

The next few days passed quickly.

Amidst the whirlwind of preparations for your union with Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and the steady arrival of lords from across Westeros, time slipped away like sand through your fingers. So absorbed were you in the endless tasks and the moments shared with your betrothed and his family that you barely noticed a full week had passed since that fateful, improper encounter, and the thought of fleeing King's Landing had quietly drifted from your mind.

In truth, thoughts of home were the furthest from your mind. Since that inescapable encounter with your betrothed, he had made it a point and effort to be by your side in every spare moment both of you had.

Jacaerys proved ever thoughtful, ever watchful, always a step ahead to anticipate your every need; his hand extended before you could even ask. Though his temper seemed quick in the few council meetings you had witnessed, the patience he reserved for you was a tenderness unlike any other, a quiet devotion that made your heart soften with each passing day.

Now, as his gentle hand held yours and he led you through the halls, you couldn't help but feel silly for believing your father's harsh words. Nothing your father had said seemed true. How could he be the monster you'd feared when his every glance was so full of tenderness, making your heart flutter and warmth spread through your chest?

He was kind, and none who genuinely knew him could contest that.

“Do not be so fearful,” he encouraged, casting a reassuring glance over his shoulder as you nervously bit your lower lip. “Come now, Vermax means you no harm,” he promised, his gaze softening as it fell upon the small cross hanging from your neck.

“Jace, I am quite uncertain about this,” you murmured softly, your heart pounding with a fervor you could not wholly place—whether due to the warmth of his touch upon your hand or the prospect of meeting a dragon. Either way, a flush of heat crept upon you, warming your cheeks with apprehension.

Your future lord husband halted suddenly, causing you to stumble and lightly press against his chest, the wedding cross grazing gently against your forehead. As you looked up, you found yourself caught in the depths of his warm, hazel eyes, which regarded you with their usual blend of tenderness and amusement.

“There is no need for fear,” Jacaerys said softly, his voice laced with gentle charm as he spoke your name. His hand cupped your face, and his thumb caressed your cheek soothingly. “Vermax is loyal to me and tends to favor those I hold dear.” He added, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his touch and his endearing words made a rosy blush rise to your cheeks.

With a tremulous sigh, you acquiesced, unaware of the pleased glint in his eyes. “Very well, I place my trust on you,” you declared with earnest and apprehensive commit. Before further words could be spoken, Jacaerys gently took your arm, guiding you towards the dragon pit, where soon the majestic form of Vermax appeared.

The dragon lay majestically upon a bed of straw and scattered bones, and you instinctively grasped the prince’s arm, a gesture that seemed to please him. The dragon’s emerald scales gleamed softly in the dim light, and as its eyes opened, they fixed upon you and Jacaerys. The heir greeted the beast with a small smile, which prompted the dragon to respond with a gentle, approving rumble, causing Jacaerys’s smile to broaden even further.

You observed Jacaerys reluctantly extricate himself from your embrace, casting you an apologetic glance as he approached the great beast. He murmured softly in an unfamiliar tongue, his voice a soothing murmur against the backdrop of the dragon’s deep, rumbling breaths. The massive creature turned its head to regard you with a curious gaze, causing you to hold your breath in trepidation.

He was too big for a young dragon.

“Wait a moment,” Jacaerys said gently, stepping closer as he beckoned Vermax to advance. The dragon’s enormous head lowered in response, yet Jacaerys’s gaze, filled with warmth and reassurance, remained steadily upon you. You instinctively touched the cross around your neck, striving to steady your breath as Vermax approached. Jacaerys’s hand gave your arm a brief, reassuring squeeze. “He possesses a loyalty grand as his size.” He murmured softly, his voice imbued with a calming reassurance.

As Vermax drew closer, you instinctively sought out Jacaery’s hand, finding solace in his steadfast presence. He tightened his grip reassuringly, his own heart echoing the intensity of the moment, and his touch provided a grounding comfort amid the dragon’s grandeur. “There is no need for fear,” he murmured in a quiet tone, his gaze tender as he observed you. “He's gentle, despite his appearance.” You took a hesitant step forward, your heart racing as Vermax’s large, watchful eyes met yours.

You swallowed hard at the sight.

Your betrothed’s thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, offering silent encouragement. Yet he could not help but cast a quick glance at the neckline of your dress and the way you clutched the small cross, shaking his head to clear the indecent thoughts that had entered his mind. “He is not so different from me,” he said almost abruptly, trying to dispel the images from his mind while meeting your apprehensive and fearful gaze. “Gentler than the tales might suggest.” Hearing this, you let out a soft laugh despite the situation, recognizing the subtle hint in his sentence.

Jace couldn’t help but feel relieved when he heard your small laughter.

He let out a soft, reassuring chuckle, his grip on your hand tightening to anchor you to the moment, and you instinctively returned the squeeze. Vermax, now only a few steps away, lowered his massive head, his watchful eyes observing you once again both with a serene curiosity as though acknowledging the connection forming between you and his rider. He seemed too smart for a giant beast.

Jacaerys stepped closer to the dragon, gently drawing you by his side. His voice, steady and tinged with pride, broke the silence. “See? He is at ease with you.” His gaze shifted back to you, a warm smile playing on his lips. “You have nothing to fear.” He said softly, his eyes never leaving yours as you once again focused on the young dragon.

As you drew nearer, the warm breath of the dragon stirred the air, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Yet, with Jace by your side, you felt a sense of calm. His hand, still holding yours, provided constant reassurance, and you could feel his thumb tracing gentle, reassuring circles on your skin.

As you approach the dragon, its warm breath stirred a gentle, soothing breeze against your face, heightening your anticipation. Drawing a deep breath, you extended your trembling hand towards the dragon, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth scales of its vast snout. The texture is both unfamiliar and captivating, the dragon’s scales feeling like a blend of polished stone and supple leather beneath your touch.

You could almost hear Jacaerys holding his breath behind you.

Vermax remained still, his large eyes half-closing as if acknowledging your gesture, his steady, rhythmic breath resonating through the chamber. When he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, you widened your own eyes in wonder, your mouth slightly agape as you glanced back at Jace, who struggled to stifle a chuckle.

“By the Seven!” you exclaimed, blinking slowly. “I did it!” you nearly shouted, gripping your betrothed’s hand tightly, which drew a hearty, amused laugh from him in response to your delight.

“I told you,” he murmured softly amidst his laughter, squeezing your hand reassuringly. His eyes, twinkling with both amusement and something more profound, regarded you with tender warmth.

As you and your betrothed made your way back to the castle, your hands remained intertwined, a detail neither of you seemed to notice amidst the comfort you found in each other's presence. The corridors of the castle, bathed in the soft light of flickering torches, seemed to contract, leaving just the two of you in your own world. The only sounds were the gentle rhythm of your breathing, the passage of time unnoticed, and the cool air that lightly brushed against your faces.

Jacaerys, however, could not help but steal occasional glances at you, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of your face and form. His eyes lingered on the neckline of your dress, the softness of your lips, and the small cross around your neck—the emblem of the union to come tomorrow. For a brief moment, he reached with his free hand to touch the cross, feeling a warm flutter in his chest as his fingers brushed the delicate metal.

The prince blinked slowly, his heart pounding with anticipation at the thought of the wedding to come. He could hardly contain his eagerness.

“I must say,” Jacaerys spoke gently, finding any excuse to linger near you as you stood by your chamber door. “You’ve been a delight in the dragon pit, especially considering it’s your first encounter with dragons.” He chided himself internally for the awkwardness of his words, yet his smile remained tender and sincere, his eyes reflecting genuine admiration.

You blushed and blinked slowly, a touch of bewilderment in your eyes, though your heart raced at his tentative praise.

“I am glad to have shared the experience with you,” you replied sincerely, noticing how he swallowed hard, as if wrestling with an unspoken urgency and desire.

Little did you realize, Jacaerys’s heart ached with a longing as deep as the ancient woods. The thought of waiting until tomorrow to share your first kiss at the altar felt like an eternity of torment. He yearned to taste the sweetness of your lips in a moment that was uniquely yours, far from the prying eyes of the court. Perhaps that was merely seeking any excuse to close the distance between you, his heart aching to turn his longing into a cherished reality.

Regardless, Jacaerys drew closer, his hand gently releasing yours to rest upon your neck. As his thumb softly caressed your throat, a wave of memories from the past week washed over you, bringing a delicate flush to your cheeks. Despite your growing shyness, you stood still, your breath mingling with his as he leaned in. “There is something I have longed to do,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a yearning tenderness. “I need this, I need you.”

Before you could utter a word, his lips met yours in a fervent kiss, tongues entwining and teeth brushing lightly. The world around you seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his warmth and the pressing desire of the kiss you shared. You felt his fingers pressing firmly against your throat and his hand gently grasping the small cross around your neck, and you swiftly mirrored the action, drawing him closer as the kiss deepened.

Jacaerys's heart beat in unison with yours, the kiss growing more intense, and both of you felt a growing warmth as the passion heightened. Yet neither of you cared, too lost in the taste of each other's mouths to think of anything else.

When at last he pulled away, his breath was heavy, his eyes searching yours with a tender yearning that made your heart race.

“Thank you for another amazing day.” He whispered, his voice soft and full of affection, as though the words themselves were a caress. He lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, his lips lingering there, sending a shiver through you. Your breath caught, and you bit your swollen lip, every part of you longing for his touch once more.

“I can hardly wait for being completely yours,” he murmured, stepping back slowly, as though reluctant to part from you. His hand fell from yours only when necessary, and you turned toward your chamber door, heart still fluttering. As you crossed the threshold, you glanced back to see him standing there, a soft, private smile touching his lips.

You could hardly wait to be his, too.

The atmosphere was filled with warmth.

At the great table laid out for both your families, Jacaerys beheld you from across the room, his gaze alight with a tender affection. His smile conveyed the warmth and admiration he felt, as if he were savoring the very sight of you amidst the grandeur of the feast.

The vows of your union had been spoken mere hours past, and though he had already basked in the wondrous sight of you in your bridal attire, Jace could not help but be entranced by you. His eyes roamed over you, captivated by how the gown clung to your form, as if shaped by divine hands. You appeared as if sculpted by the gods themselves.

It took all of Jacaery’s self-control not to kiss you as he had the night before or to press his lips to your neck and savor the softness of your skin. He was also haunted by the countless times he had anxiously clutched that cross, now missing from both of your necks.

Yet, though the cross that once adorned both your necks was no longer present, the crown prince could not stifle his smile. The torchlight danced upon your fingers, casting a radiant gleam on the ring that now symbolized your union. It was a silent proclamation of your bond, mirrored by the way he placed his hand upon the table, a reminder that declared his heart and soul belonged to you.

Jacaerys still recalled the first time he beheld you, some three years past, on the day of his mother’s coronation. He remembered your father’s countenance darkening with displeasure as the crown was set upon his mother’s brow. Yet, more vividly, he recalled you: the timid maiden who sought to retreat from the prying gazes of the court.

He still remembered how, towards the end of the coronation feast, you had quietly slipped away to the garden. He had followed you from a distance, drawn by a curiosity he scarcely understood. From the shadows, he had observed as the moonlight cast a gentle glow upon your face. In that moment, seeing you bathe in such soft radiance, he felt his heart race with fervor he had never known before. However, he was too afraid to speak to you.

When the queen spoke of the union between you and him, Jacaerys had been taken aback too surprise to say a word, yet he was far from opposed. Indeed, his heart had nearly leapt from his chest upon learning that the bond between both of you was to be secured.

He was glad for the marriage, and from the smile his mother, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, bestowed upon him, he could see that she, too, was delighted by his joy.

Turning his gaze away from the gathered company, Jacaerys furrowed his brow in concern. When he looked back and found you missing from view, he felt a pang of worry. Yet his anxiety was swiftly eased when he noticed you slipping through the crowd of lords and saw the door ajar. A soft chuckle escaped him as he ignored the glances, and he followed your retreating form toward the door.

The prince followed after you, his footsteps resounding against the cold stone walls, mingling with the fading echoes of the banquet's revelry. His mind stilled when you glanced back, gifting him a playful smile that stirred something deep within him, urging him to quicken his stride. But before his hand could reach yours, you took off, lifting the delicate fabric of your wedding gown as you ran, leaving Jacaerys momentarily stunned. But it took him only a heartbeat to recover before he surged forward, chasing after you with determination.

Both of your laughs, now distant from the fading echoes of the banquet, echoed through the castle halls. As you and Jacaerys raced through the corridors, your hearts pounded and your breaths came in quick bursts, the joyous sound of your chase reverberating through the echoing stone halls.

You swiftly reached the garden, the cool night air embracing you as you stepped outside. Yet, before you could proceed to the heart of the garden, Jacaerys closed the distance, his hands gently resting on your waist. His touch sent a shiver through you, eliciting one more merry laugh from your lips.

His playful gaze met yours with a mischievous glint, and you placed your hands upon his chest, feeling his heart beat as strongly as, or perhaps even more than, your own. His breath brushed gently against your face.

“Do you intend to run from me all night long, my love?” Jacaerys inquired softly, his voice tender as he sighed deeply, feeling your chest press against his. You merely blinked, slightly surprised by his affectionate term, but a smile still blossomed on your lips.

You tilted your head gently, a faint blush rising to your cheeks, while your eyes shyly averted from his. “Perhaps I enjoy being pursued by you,” you teased, though Jacaerys saw the truth in your words.

He was certain you would be his ruin, but he was ready to embrace it willingly.

“Good for you, because I am willing to follow you everywhere you go,” he whispered softly. Your heart fluttered, and for a moment, you felt foolish for ever believing the tales your father had spun about your lord husband. In his embrace, you discovered warmth and protection unlike anything you had known before.

Jacaerys was all that your father was not: respectful, honest, a man of virtue and loyalty. For a fleeting moment, you were moved to seek forgiveness from the gods for your attempt to flee days earlier. To wed Jacaerys now seemed a divine blessing, and despite the brevity of your time together, you felt assured that the future ahead would be bright with him by your side.

You raised a hand to smooth a stray curl from his brow, feeling him lean into your touch. “I’m not sure I could ever escape you,” you said, meeting his gaze with a playful glimmer. “Even if I tried.”

Jacaerys chuckled softly. “And indeed, you made quite an effort, did you not, lady wife?” His teasing tone brought a delicate blush to your cheeks. As you lowered your hand, his laughter subsided, and he regarded you with a more subdued, yet still playful, expression. “Are you upset with me, my love?” he inquired, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You bit your lip, striving to conceal the flush of embarrassment and the laughter bubbling within you. Yet, despite your best efforts, a laugh escaped, echoing through the garden. Your husband looked upon you with wonder and delight, soon joining in your laughter.

Neither you nor Jacaerys knew how long your laughter had lasted, but when it finally subsided, he pressed his forehead to yours. A smile lingered on his lips, growing even wider as you rubbed your body against his as he gently tightened his embrace around your waist.

You could burn in that moment.

“You cannot fathom how long I have yearned for this union,” he confessed with a soft sigh. You held your breath, reluctant to disturb the moment. “You know not how deeply I wish to continue loving you,” he continued, his eyes still closed, as if he lacked the courage to speak those words while gazing into your eyes.

Your mind seemed to cloud, and your heart pounded against his chest. “Do you love me?” was all that escaped your lips. The moment the words were spoken, you felt a pang of foolishness for your sudden question.

Yet, he just chuckled a little dryly.

“If I do love you?” Jacaerys asked, his eyes opening slowly to reveal a depth of feeling that made it impossible for you to look away. “My heart is yours,” he said, his voice soft. “If you command it to still, it shall obey; if you tell it to depart, it will go. Whatever you ask of it, it shall do. Every part of me belongs to you, for you to guide as you wish.”

He paused, his gaze earnest as he searched for the right words. “To say ‘I love you’ hardly captures it; my soul is wholly and desperately yours.”

You blinked slowly, deeply touched by his words, oblivious to the almost desperate look he wore as he searched your face for any sign of doubt or hesitation.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of his confession, you leaned in and sealed your lips with his. This kiss was unlike the passionate embrace you had shared the previous night; it was imbued with a tender and soft love that transcended mere desire. It was so right, so warm, that Jacaerys felt as though he might dissolve into your embrace, just as you felt you could in his.

He could feel that you were beginning to love him, and he cherished every second of that kiss.

As you slowly withdrew from the embarace, you felt his hands once again gently encircling your throat, his thumb tenderly caressing your neck. His eyes remained fixed upon you, brimming with a love so profound that it quickened the heartbeat of anyone who beheld it.

“I desire that my soul be wholly consumed by yours,” you declared softly, watching as his eyes widened in astonishment and his grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly.

“What are you trying to say?” Jacaerys asked, though he already knew the answer. His voice was rough yet soft, and his eyes darkened as his breath quickened. "Are you certain, my love?" he inquired, even though it was clear that this was his deepest longing in that moment and had been since he first beheld you.

“Lead me to our chambers husband.” you commanded with unwavering certainty, pressing yourself closer to him as if seeking to become one.

Jacaerys leaned in to place a tender, slightly lingering kiss upon your neck, a smile gracing his lips. “What my lady wife desires,” he murmured softly against your delicate skin, “she shall have.”

And you definitely did.

2024 © do not repost or translate my work anywhere else.

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Their already disobedient and free-minded daughter with the dark-haired wanna-be Targaryen, son of Rhaenya Targaryen who they had sided against ever since the deep rift in the biggest and richest dynasty of wizards and witches had opened. It was a scandal, to know this illegitimate half-blood sullied your good name and virtue.

Of course, they had tried to talk some sense into you on many occasions, their words like poison clouding your mind until you knew one thing for sure; you hated them. And you were never going to end things with Jacaerys simply because they despised the match between you two.

With the Christmas holidays soon approaching, letters from your parents’ estate in the countryside had started to arrive and so far, each of them had been burned by a quick whisper from your lips. Instead, you were ignoring all your worries and pushed them far away into the back of your mind and simply by spending time with your boyfriend, it had worked out well for you, so far.

Falling in love with Jacaerys Velaryon had been as easy as choosing your wand all this time ago, as feeling the first magic of your life prickle beneath your fingertips.

Since you had been assigned to the same House, your paths had crossed often but briefly and something inside of you had always been mesmerized by him. As head boy and bright heir of Rhaenyra Targaryen, he was a wanted man, making it difficult at first to get to know him even as you lived and studied close to one another.

The way his addictive laugh echoed across the corridors when he walked with his younger brother Luke or his quidditch team, how he could lose himself in deep concentration during his studies and he achieved greatness to follow his mother’s grand reputation. It all only added to the quiet fascination you nurtured for him, his good looks and charming personality a dangerous fuel to the fire. While hard-working and ambitious, he was kind and courageous and when you finally became acquaintances through your friendship with Baela, you knew this could either end well or in complete heartbreak for you.

With your friend groups mixing, the two of you had danced around each other for the longest time. And while you really had tried to see him as a friend, your thoughts kept returning to wondering how it might be to kiss him, to hold his hand while you walked around Hogwarts, to know all of him and to be known by him.

It finally had hit you one day in Potions, when the amortentia you’d been asked to brew had started to smell like Jace’s quidditch jumper, his cologne and a unique scent of salt and fire. You had looked over at him in shock and to your surprise, he had already been staring at you, his own kettle a soft pink, similar to the bow you often wore in your hair…

It had been summer and with the privileges of the 6th year, you had been allowed to go stargazing on top of the Astronomy Tower. You had sat beside Jace, his jacket draped over your shoulders as your feet had dangled over the edge. When the first shooting star had passed by and everyone gasped in delight around you, Jace and you had only eyes for each other until he finally bridged the last little bit of distance between you and kissed you softly.

That night, you had fallen asleep together, sharing one sleeping bag as you giggled together in the darkness and shared kisses, every new one more daring than the last…

Ever since then, Jacaerys and you had been a dream team, the golden Head Boy and Quidditch star and the smartest girl of Gryffindor House.

Today, it was a quiet evening at the common room, only a few students still mingling around after dinner at the Great Hall. Jace and you had finished up early, taking a small plate of creamy tiramisu with you on the way to secure your favorite spot on the old and comfortably sofa by the fireplace.

The shadows of the flames warmed your legs as you read in a book, your hand absently brushing through Jace’s hair. Your boyfriend’s head rested in your lap, tiny and pleasant shivers going through him at your affections while he wrote a letter to his mother, his fingertips stained by the dark ink.

While Rhaenyra was a famous and feared auror, one of the best out there and honored multiple times for her dangerous missions against evil, she was one of the most loving people you knew, although you had not met her personally yet. But you heard how fondly Baela and Rhaena spoke of her, how often little care packages from home arrived for Jace and Luke, the brothers living separately at Hogwarts through Luke’s division into Ravenclaw where he was friends with Rhaena, but never being found too far apart from each other.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you and from time to time, you fed Jace some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and made him guess the flavors while you ate some of the sherbet lemons you couldn’t get enough of.

“And?” You asked, smiling at the way Jace’s brows furrowed in concentration.

“Hmm.” Jace traced little patterns on your knee, the closest part of you he could reach as he was stretched out on the couch. “It’s minty, but there’s something else in it. Maybe- ugh, fir resin?!”

You laughed as he grimaced, handing him the next one as you laid your book aside for the night. Jace chewed on the candy for a little more than a second before he looked up at you, grinning. “Oh, easy. Your lip gloss.”

“Huh?”

“It’s cherry.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes at him affectionately before leaning down and capturing his lips with a slow kiss. Your hair framed his face and he arched up to meet you, a delicate hand on your cheek as you kissed, blind and uncaring for everything else in the world around you. Maybe you could sneak out tonight, to your little secluded spot in the greenhouse?

“Ay, keep it together, there’s kids around here.” A deep, amused voice greeted you and Jace and you separated to see Cregan sitting down in front of the sofa, a knowing grin on the Quidditch keeper’s face as he looked at the pair of you.

“Good evening, Cregan.” You said overly polite and he barked out a laugh, grabbing one of your red gummy vines for himself as Jace sat up with a slight groan, placing the letter to his mother on the little table beside you. Instinctively, you leaned into his side, snuggling beneath his arm as the softness of his red and gold sweater caressed your cheek.

“I didn’t want to interrupt the two of you-“

Jace gave him a look. “But you did.”

“-but I wanted to ask if you’re coming to the 7th year student’s farewell party for the old year?” Cregan smiled at you, a nice sight since the wolf of the north was often serious around others, all duty and honor, but a secret softie at heart. “It’s happening next weekend. There’s gonna be lots of booze and music. There’s just one tiny thing that might piss you off, Jace.”

You looked at your boyfriend who furrowed his brows. “What is it?”

“Your uncles will be there too.” Cregan confessed darkly. “I would have objected but one of the other guys thought it’d be hilarious to have their asses there. Invites are already out. Sorry, man.”

You felt Jace tense beside you, his nostrils flaring at the thought of Aegon and Aemond walking into his common room. They were a delicate subject to him and you knew about the complicated tryst within his big family divided by the Targaryen and the Hightower side. They were powerful and influential with their great dynasty of dragon riders and tamers, yet they chose to shred each other to pieces. The mistrust ran deeply and the fact that they all were part of the most influential and powerful wizard family of the country didn’t help.

Aegon and Aemond, similar to Jace and Luke, were known around the halls of Hogwarts, but unlike the dark-haired brothers, they used it to their advantage, looking down on others and bathing in their admiration and fear to equal parts. Their younger sister Helaena had become yours and the twin’s friend, but she was the only sweet soul on her side of the Targaryen family.

Earlier this year, the tensions between the boys had escalated when Aemond had provoked Luke to the point where Jace had to drag his brother away from their uncle as he threw insults at him, the fight the top gossip subject in the next weeks. You knew what they whispered about Jace and Luke. Dirty bastards. Half-bloods. To people like your parents or the Hightowers, it was an insult, a curse. It was all a bunch of bullshit.

“Hey.” You said softly and rested your hand on Jace’s arm, drawing him out of his spiraling thoughts. You knew him all too well after all and at your touch, Jace softened a little, leaning back into the deep cushions of the couch. “We want to go, right? It’s probably the last big gathering before the season’s break. Surely you won’t let them ruin your night, Jace. Let them come, their words mean nothing.”

Cregan remained silent in front of you, patiently waiting through the silent exchange between the two of you. Jace squeezed your hand in his and then nodded, turning back to Cregan. “We’ll be there. Now hit the showers, man, you still reek of training.”

Your shared friend left with a triumphant grin and as the crackling of the wooden logs took over the quietness of the room again, you sighed and sneaked your hand underneath Jace’s sweater to warm yourself, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It’ll be okay.” You murmured, knowing the matter most likely had not left Jace’s mind yet. “There will be so many other students, we likely won’t even see them all night. Our group doesn’t want to hang out with them anyway, Jace.”

“I know.” Jace replied quietly, staring into the flames, the brown of his eyes shining like embers. “It’s not just Luke or me I’m worried about. I also don’t want you to get hurt by them. They are such pieces of shit, always causing trouble, if they’ll come near you…”

“I’ll hex them.” You suggested brightly and successfully lured a smile out of your Jace. “If they’re acting up, I’ll teach them a lesson. I can be very protective of the ones I love, too, you know?”

“Yeah…” Jace smiled at you, smitten and adoring of your courage and carefreeness. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and gently cupped your cheek, getting lost in your eyes. “One of the endless reasons I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered back, leaning into his touch. “Screw them, we are going to have our fun, okay? Deal?”

“Deal.”

You smiled back, biting your lip in consideration. “I believe we have been doing something of most importance before Stark interrupted us, wouldn’t you agree?”

Jace laughed, back to his smiley self around you and pulled you closer by the waist. “Oh, I agree wholeheartedly.”

You sighed as Jacaerys kissed you again, his lips slowly moving against yours as shivers ran down your spine despite the warm fireplace. You tilted your head to the side, gladly letting him take over the lead and granting his tongue entrance. At your side, your bag of candy rustled, but neither of you cared as you got lost in each other, Jace making sure to show you exactly how much he loved and appreciated you before it was time to separate and go to bed…

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

When the weekend came, Jace and you met down in the common room early to have breakfast at the Great Hall together. After pancakes and oatmeal, you had met with Luke and a few of his Ravenclaw friends to take a trip to the snowy Hogsmeade.

There were no time restrictions for you anymore with the both of you being in 7th year now and you were giddy and excited during the long walk, laughing as Jace started a snowball fight with Luke when about half of the way was done.

With your destination reached, you two separated from Luke and went straight to Honeydukes while Luke went off to go to Zonko's Joke Shop. You laced your fingers together with Jace’s and pulled him into the sweets store, sighing at the delicious smell of caramel popcorn and cotton candy.

Together, you browsed through the shelves and tried the little samples of your favorites, occasionally sharing a tooth-rooting sweet kiss. You brought a bag of chocolate frogs for Baela later, who was on prefect duty today and accompanied the 3rd year students to their first Hogsmeade trip, and a small treat for Jace and you to share. At the cash register, Jace stood close beside you and sneaked one hand into the back pocket of your jeans, making you blush and smile as you paid up.

Out in the snow again, Jace stopped by at the post office to send off his letter to Rhaenyra, quickly slipping a tiny hearty bone into it, which he had shrunken with magic and would later become a very monstrous snack for his dragon Vermax. For obvious reasons, no Targaryen kid could take their dragon to Hogwarts with them and so, Jace often missed his companion, although Helaena had crocheted him a mini-version when they were in year four.

Stepping outside, Jacaerys smiled at you as you bit off a gummy red vine and kissed your red nose. “Should we go to the Three Broomsticks Inn? It’s barely afternoon, we still have time.”

You sighed leaning into his side as you began to walk. “Yes, please.” At the thought of hot chocolate and the cozy atmosphere at the inn, your heart screamed for warmth.

“Come on then.” Jace kissed your temple and laid his arm around you. “Drinks are on me.” As always when you were out with him.

Usually, at least three of Jace’s mates were hanging around the inn, but today everyone seemed to prepare for the party back at the castle, so Jace and you were on your own, slipping into your favorite booth way back in the taproom where it was quiet and always a good hideout to make out with each other.

Laughing as Jace shook out his snowy hair, you skipped the bench opposite of his right away and made yourself comfortable on his knee. After ordering two butterbeers, you dove into your bag of candy and chatted about the classes you’d have together next week and what homework still needed to be finished until then. You were entirely uninterrupted here, in your own little world as Jace lazily caressed your body and peppered your neck with little kisses, the busy noises from the main room not reaching you at all.

 All too soon, it was time to make your way back. The snow had fallen thickly overnight and there was no doubt now that Christmas was approaching fast. At your side, Jace laughed at you as you stuck out your tongue and tried to catch a snowflake with it, his feet nearly slipping on a frozen puddle which made you giggle in return.

You always had liked the path leading back from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, mostly because Jace and you could be alone and chat without anyone listening, especially the lower year’s little reporters who often wanted his opinions for their magazines. Now, you were walking hand in hand as Jace carried your purchases from the village for you when suddenly, your beloved owl came into view below the clouds and fir trees near the road.

“What’s Darling doing here?” Jace looked at you with curiosity as the owl briefly sat down on your shoulder and let an envelope sink into your hand. With a quick feathery nuzzle against your cheek, she launched herself into the air again and took off to the tower where she lived with her companions.

You stared down at the letter in your hands.

The paper was a tasteful black and dark blue and when you saw your own initials on the unbroken seal up front, you knew exactly who had sent you mail on the weekend.

“I’ll open it later.” You smiled blandly at Jace, stuffing the letter into the pocket of your coat and taking his hand again to walk back to the castle with him. “Let’s go, we’ll miss dinner if we loiter.”

Hours later, you were staring into space, zoned out although the large room around you was crowded and very much in the best party mood possible. The common room was full to the brim, chatter and music from the old stereo in the corner buzzing in your room. Everyone had wanted to join the last unofficial party of the year before going home to their families and students kept pouring in through the open door.

In the crowd, you could spot Baela and Rhaena, laughing with Luke and handing out little glasses with a suspiciously green content that smelled sharply of mint and liquor. Cregan had found a comfy spot in one of the big armchairs, passionately kissing a girl from Hufflepuff while some of your other friends were dancing carefreely.

Just yesterday, you would’ve been one of them.

But the words of your mother from the letter were replaying themselves in your mind over and over again.

The message towards you had been short and clear, yet full of hidden meaning; Your father and I expect you to join us for the holidays this year. We are to be guests at the Hightower’s estate. They are a respectable family and good allies of us and you will do your best to impress Alicent’s sons. A match with a powerful heir like they are is only suited and overdue for a young woman like you. We expect you home on the afternoon of the 21th.

In need to quieten the noise in your mind, you chugged your shot of firewhisky back, grimacing at the strong taste exploding on your tongue and squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. There was a familiar touch to your side and you were snapped out of your thoughts as Jace came up behind you, sneaking both his arms around your waist and drawing you closer.

“Hey, beautiful.” He murmured in your ear, pecking your cheek affectionately. “Is everything alright?”

You took a deep breath and turned around in his arms. Becoming a little weak in the knees at the sight of your handsome boyfriend, you nodded and leaned close as his hands stroked up your spine and played with your hair. In his dark red sweater and freshly washed hair, he looked particularly good tonight, a slight flush of warmth painting his cheeks.

“I’m just a little sleepy.” It wasn’t a lie, not really. “I think the trip to Hogsmeade today tired me out a little.”

Jace looked at you with soft eyes, lowering his voice and offering: “We could go upstairs and cuddle, if you want? It’s just a stupid party.”

Your heart melted at his offer, the knowledge he’d drop everything to make sure you were comfortable doing something to your already tender being today. Jacaerys made you so happy…why couldn’t your parents simply see that and accept it? You silently scolded yourself for returning to your parents again. You were eager to forget about all of it for the night, not sulk in your misery and let them deny you the fun you deserved to have.

You shook your head, a real smile on your face this time as you nudged him into the direction of the improvised dance floor. “I’m fine. Let’s have some fun, come on.”

Jace let himself be pulled into the crowd, his eyes traveling over your tights and the short, checkered skirt you wore tonight, your top a classy roll collar so no one could make fun of the hickeys he had left on you earlier today at the inn. Just as if it was the first time, he looked at you with so much love in his dark eyes, you forgot all your worries as he snaked his arm around your waist and you placed your head on his shoulder.

You swayed to the beat in his arms, allowing yourself to just be as Jace played with the soft edges of your hair, breathing your sweet perfume in and stroking his thumb over your side. Over his shoulder, you smiled back at the twins as Baela fumbled with her polaroid camera and quietly took a snap of you.

As you danced with Jacaerys, you were happy.

If only it could stay like this forever.

Further into the night, when the spontaneous bar in front of the fireplace had switched over to harder liquor one of Cregan’s guys had managed to somehow sneak past McGonagall, you stood together with your girls. Clinking your bubbly glass flutes, the pocket of your skirt kept the polaroid of Jace and you safe for the rest of the party and you caught Jace’s eye from across the room, gesturing that you were going to go to the bathroom real quick. He nodded and you excused yourself, walking down the corridor outside of the common room. Earlier, you had seen one of your roommates sneak off into the girl’s bathroom with a guy from Slytherin and you were not eager to walk in on them.

You walked down the hall, rubbing your arms against the cold of the walls when suddenly, a dark silhouette stepped out from one of the niches.

“Needed a breather as well?” Aegon smiled cooly at you, stubbing out his cig against the stone wall next to him. He watched you closely as you stopped, not sure how to assess the situation. His face was flushed, but otherwise he seemed to be not as drunk as normally during parties, which surprised you.

You gave him a curt nod. “Aegon.” As you tried to walk past him, he stepped into your way, holding up a hand.

“Truly, I’m delighted to see you, I must say.” A foul grin took over his features and you stepped back once more, the faint whiff of alcohol from him now hitting you. “My mother just sent me a letter about you today, you know? Got mail from home, too?”

You glared darkly at him, a look of despise Jace would’ve been proud of. “None of your business.”

“Oh, come on.” Aegon snorted, winking. “If the relations between our families are blossoming, we should get acquainted sooner rather than later, don’t you agree? Or perhaps, I can introduce you to my brother Aemond, if you prefer? My mother mentioned your parents aren’t particularly picky when it comes to a match for you. And Christmas is just around the corner…”

You froze.

He knew.

You stared at him, your clenched fists trembling with anger at his nonchalant and disrespectful manners, his eyes looking you over as if you were a prize he already had won.

“Come on, it’s about time you surround yourself with people of your status.” Aegon tried again, not letting you off so easily.

“I would rather die.” You spat out, glaring daggers at him and just as Aegon opened his mouth and took an abrupt step towards you, quick steps echoed down the hall. You whipped your head around and saw Jacaerys, stalking towards you and his uncle with fire in his eyes and a tense jaw.

“Ah, nephew!” Aegon greeted him cheerily, although a disgusted snarl now tugged at the edge of his mouth. “Me and your girl were just talking-“

“Shut up.” You hissed in warning, your hand itching to grab your wand which you wore tugged into the warm leather of your knee-high boot. A second later, Jace was at your side and rested his hand on your waist, protectively drawing you close.

“Are you okay?” He looked at you searchingly, his eyes flickering across your face with worry. “Leave her the fuck alone, Aegon.”

“We were just conversing. Is that forbidden now?”

Jace took a threatening step towards him and you knew your quick-tempered boyfriend wouldn’t hesitate to throw a spell against his uncle if he said another wrong word, although the consequences would likely be gravely. You remembered the day both Rhaenyra and Alicent had been summoned to the castle because of the fistfight between their sons…there was no need for a repeat performance.

“Jace.” You pleaded quickly, holding him back from doing something honorable and very, very stupid. Aegon grinned brightly at the two of you, clearly thrilled by the way you tugged Jace back by his arm, stepping between the two men. Under your breath, you mumbled: “Don’t. It’s exactly what he wants. It was nothing, I’m okay. Come on, let’s go, come.”

Jacaerys tore his murderous gaze away from Aegon and let himself be led away, his hand holding yours tightly as you brought more and more distance between them. Only when you reached the entrance door to Gryffindor House, you felt him exhale, yet the tension did not leave his body entirely.

You threw one last look over your shoulder and shuddered at Aegon’s vicious smile.

You were in desperate need of another drink.

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

You rubbed your gloved hands together as a fierce breeze brushed against you, caused by the formation of Quidditch players on their brooms flying past you, Rhaena and Helaena. The girls and you sat huddled together on the bleachers by the Quidditch field, your wand steadily held up to produce a small magical fire in front of you.

Today’s quidditch training was in full swing and occasionally, you cheered Baela and Jace on as they chased across the field, spurred on by Cregan’s massive form flying from goal to goal to defend their score. In a few days, there was a match against Slytherin and none of them intended to lose against Aegon and Aemond before the year would end.

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of marshmallows.” Rhaena said regretfully and Heleana huffed out a laugh, her quick fingers skillfully knitting a new scarf. You for yourself had concentrated yourself on the black cat in your lap, which belonged to Rhaena since she had no luck yet in securing a dragon for herself back at home. Your friend bumped you into the side. “We could’ve made smores!”

Over your heads, Jacaerys halted on his broom, shouting encouraging commands before he flew on. Your eyes followed him across the field, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Next year, I promise I’ll bring chocolate.”

Silently, Helaena suddenly reached into her fluffy jacket and produced two chocolates bars from her pockets, making both you and Rhaena gasp in delight.

“Hel, you’re the best!”

You waved at Jace from the distance, wiggling triumphantly with the chocolate in your hand as your flames danced, and you swore you could’ve heard his laugh echo through the air.

“Are you fit for the Astronomy exam next Tuesday?” Rhaena asked, nervously biting her lip. “I feel like I got no clue about anything.”

“It’s not that complicated.” Helaena chimed in softly.

“Helaena, I love you, but you are close to being a medium, your opinion doesn’t count.” Suddenly, an idea crossed Rhaena’s mind and you laughed at her stunned expression. “Teach me, please, and I’ll help you with Transfiguration next week.”

“That’s cheating.” You sing-songed, earning a glare. “What? The only reason I passed the last History of Magic test is simply because my boyfriend is a massive nerd.” Your tutoring lessons with Jace had taken a while to become efficient though, since you two were easily distracted by each other’s closeness and often, your books had fallen off your bed during a heated make out session with him.

Rhaena groaned, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I’m glad when all of this is over, I can’t wait until Christmas break. Our grandparents will visit and we’ll all be together. What about you, guys?”

“I wish we’d spend Christmas together again…” Helaena mumbled, lost in her knitting. It was true, Jace and the twins only really saw Helaena at Hogwarts. Rhaenyra and Alicent only saw each other during brief encounters at the Ministry and it was better for everyone if Daemon didn’t see any of the Hightowers at all, really.

Rhaena looked guiltily at you before clearing her throat. “How about you? Any fun Christmas plans?”

It took all your strength to not meet Helaena’s worried gaze beside you. If Aegon knew about your parents’ plans, then so did she and you were not going to deal with this whole matter in front of your friends, especially since you kept all of this from Jace and intended to keep it that way.

You thoughtfully petted Rhaena’s cat, willing the dryness in your throat away. “You know, so far there’s been-“

“Oh, look who it is!”

A lightning bolt of black and red shot towards you, making the three of you squeal as Jacaerys slowed down on his broom and stopped right in front of the grandstand railing. His dark hair was disheveled by the wind and he looked like a prince in his Quidditch uniform, proud and sturdy with one of the quaffles tucked beneath his arm.

“Hi.” He grinned brightly at you as you wordlessly stuck out a hand to give him a piece of chocolate, one he took gladly but not without kissing your gloved knuckles first. From the distance, he had admired you longingly, the sight of you dressed in your bright coat and warm beanie close to the one of a princess. Jace could never stay away from you for long.

“Shouldn’t you play the game?” You challenged him and he looked over to Cregan, who already gestured him to rejoin practice.

“A kiss first.”

Rhaena and Helaena groaned in unison.

You gracefully stood, black cat still in your arms as you leaned over the railing and softly kissed Jace’s lips. He held perfectly still, the press of his lips on yours featherlight as you tucked a curl of his behind his ear.

For only a moment, the suppressed tension in you left your body and you only felt Jace, a high worth chasing for, even if it meant to lose yourself. But just as quickly as it rushed into you, it left with Jace whispering goodbye against you before he had to fly on.

It seemed like the weight sank back onto your shoulders the smaller he became in the sky…

As if the universe had somehow read your mind and decided to do you a great favor, Jacaerys took you to the Prefect’s bathroom in the late afternoon after training. While Jace as a head boy was mostly almost annoyingly responsible and accurate, he and you had often abused his privileges to sneak off into the luxurious hidden bathroom on the fifth floor.

When he had to calm down after a big game or you both needed a break during exam season, you retreated into the big swimming pool, where you sometimes washed his hair for him or he kneaded your legs for you while you told him stories sitting on the edge of the pool.

On other occasions, Jace and you simply were ridiculously horny, such as now.

Currently, you were in his lap, rhythmically rolling your hips as your tongues danced with each other. The hot water of the bath gently splashed against the edges and your hand curled into his wet hair, making him groan in pleasure. Jace’s sounds, his taste in your mouth was addictive, his passionate kisses making you drunk in a way no firewhisky ever could.

You needed to feel him until you completely forgot yourself.

And you were on a pretty good way to get there.

A breathy moan escaped your lips, your half-lidded eyes fixed on his angelic face as you rode his fingers deep inside of you. Jace was holding out a hand beneath your thighs, two of his digits fingering you sensually as his thumb played with your aching clit, luring the sweetest sounds from you.

“Such a good girl…” Jace purred, biting his plump lip as he watched you bounce in his lap. He leaned close, wrapping his lips around your rosy bud, softly biting into your flesh as you moaned loudly from the hot sensation. “Riding my fingers so well, such a sweet angel for me...”

Ever since Jacaerys and you had become a couple, you knew him as a slow and very thorough lover, always attentive and selfless when it came to sleeping together. With the slow roll of his hips and the endless praise, he could make you cry with bliss, dragging out the experience until you’d shatter into pieces in his arms.

But today, you needed him hard.

A part of you wanted him to spin you around and pull you down on his hard length, passionately fucking up into you until you had nothing left in you except for your love for him. But you knew Jace all too well for that.

So, you doubled down your efforts and tried to fuck yourself harder on his fingers.

Jace chuckled, love-drunk on you as he noticed your change of pace. “Eager, are we?” He crooked his fingers inside of you and you mewled, burying your face in his neck as you ground forwards, your tender walls convulsing around him.

“J-Jace…” You sighed, feeling your peak approach as he sucked at the sensitive sweet spot on your neck, his arm coming around you to press you closer against him as he kept on fingering you.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Jace mumbled in awe, tilting your chin up so he could look into your hazy eyes, his own cheeks flushed by the heat and your sight in his lap. “I know you’re close, sweetheart, come on, just a little more, let go for me, angel…”

That was all you needed to hear.

You came, stifling the desperate sounds in your throat by biting down on his shoulder, your thighs quivering as Jace softly talked you through your high, his fingers slowly stilling their movements inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut, collapsing against him and breathing heavily into his neck.

In the afterglow of your orgasm, Jace pulled you close to his chest and held you tightly, his nose brushing against your cheek as he hummed in satisfaction. As your breath slowly began to calm down again, he let his hand wander up and down your back, especially giving a few tender spots attention as he massaged you until you nearly drooled on his shoulder with relish.

Never in your life had you felt as safe and wanted as you did in Jacaerys’ arms.

“So good…” Jace praised you, completely neglecting his own need that was still very apparent between his legs. “I love you so much, you did wonderfully, baby.”

You shivered, too aware of the sudden knot in your throat to say anything yet. For a while, the two of you simply relaxed like this, Jace’s hand cupping the water ever so often to pour over your naked back so you wouldn’t get cold. You were wound around him like a koala, unwilling to separate yet.

“I was wondering…” You hummed, signaling him you were listening, although you were still floaty. You could feel him smile near your neck, nuzzling the wet skin briefly before he quietly spoke: “…if there’s anything you’d like for Christmas?”

Your breath faltered, but you recovered quickly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. What did you want for Christmas? You wanted to burn your family’s manor to the ground.

To buy yourself more time, you absently kissed Jace’s jaw and licked the sensitive spot under his ear, which made him hiss and stifle a groan under his breath. You carefully paid attention to his reactions, how his hands on your waist tightened briefly and he exhaled shakily, his cock between your thighs stiffening even more until you could almost feel it throbbing against you.

“I want you.” You huskily whispered in his ear. Your fingertips brushed over his tip.

Jace let out a low moan, but shook his head. “You can have me all the time. Something special, think about it.”

“You are special…” You contradicted, kissing him briefly before leaning back in his lap and slowly beginning to stroke him from root to tip, his whole body tensing and relaxing at your much desired touch. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He had no idea how true it was…

“Baby, f-fuck…” Jace breathed, his head falling back and mouth opening to a blissful little o. The wetness between your thighs returned quickly as you jerked him off beneath the surface, the water making the slide of your hand over his curved dick so much better, more intense than you could ever achieve it with spit.

His breath hitched deliciously as you twisted your wrist and pressed little bites and kisses to his chest, Jace’s body and soul exposed and willing just for you. You needed to get him off, needed to convince you that this was forever, that he wasn’t just going to disappear if you closed your eyes for a second too long. You needed to hear your name on his lips, a plea or praise, you didn’t care. You needed to lose yourself in him until everything was alright again.

And so, you continued to take good care of him, until the roaring inside your chest quietened and Jace’s hips bucked into your touch, only his sweet and whiny moans filling the steamy air of the baths around you…

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

A freezing cold winter wind blew over the field as the last Quidditch game of the year was in full swing. Gryffindor against Slytherin always drew the most attention and today, every last seat on the grandstands was filled, the crowd of students and teachers from the castle divided into red and green.

You pulled your scarf tighter around yourself as you squinted your eyes against the brightness of the sky, trying to see what your boy was up to up there. Beside you, Rhaena and Luke cheered, spurring Jace and Baela on as they raced towards Slytherin’s goal, passing the quaffle between them before Jace got it and swung it forcefully towards the golden ring.

The crowd erupted with applause and shouts as Jace raised his fist, shouting as Baela and the other players flew past him with cheers. You smiled up at your boyfriend, his joy and pride, before they moved on to defend their goal keeper Cregan now.

“And that’s another goal for Jace Velaryon, ten points for Gryffindor in this very much exciting last game of the season!”

After all, the game was not only so popular because of your rivaling houses. It was also because Jace was playing against both of his uncles, two of the most dreaded beaters of their year.

Today, they had seemed to make themselves the goal to give Jacaerys absolute hell on the field. The brothers were terrors on their brooms, completely ignoring Gryffindor’s seeker and racing after Jacaerys who was trying his best to avoid them in order to score more points for his team.

“What the hell are they doing?” Luke muttered beside you, looking unsure.

Your eyes stayed on Jace who once again looked over his shoulder to see Aegon and Aemond at his heels. “They’re trying to confuse Jace. This isn’t good, something is wrong.”

Dark letter envelopes swirled through your mind, words of your father who demanded for you to end things with Jace before Christmas so you’d be agreeable for the Hightowers. So far, you had not replied to them once and as the realization hit you, you wanted to vomit on the stands. This was the Hightowers’ revenge, to hurt Jace to show you what was at stake.

You saw Aegon lift his wooden club, a determined serpent-like grin on his face as Aemond threw something up in the air for him. You sprang up from your seat, shrieking: “Watch out!”

A shocked gasp went through the crowd as Jace was nearly hit by a bludger, only avoiding it at the last second by dodging it quickly and stirring his broom downwards, losing the quaffle in the process.

“These stupid idiots.” Luke cursed, gritting his teeth. “Why isn’t this called out? They have no business attacking a chaser like this!”

“It seems like there is a personal family feud happening in the sky today, remember to play fair and respect each other.” The commentator called out nervously, the game continuing although Cregan was fiercely discussing and gesturing with the referee on the side of the round field. But today, one of the profs Aegon and Aemond had called the game; everything was possible.

You were on edge, the cold breeze messing with your hair as you followed the game, always keeping an eye out for what Aegon and Aemond were up to. Luckily, they seemed to only mean to scare Jace, keeping the rest of their game pretty tame except for a few harsh bumps into his shoulder when they flew past their nephew.

You could tell Jacaerys kept himself in the background for a while, weary of the brutal energy from the opposite team, letting Baela take the lead and score a row of perfect goals for Gryffindor. When the final whistle echoed across the field, your fellow house members erupted into joyous shouts and a sigh of relief left you as Jacaerys celebrated with his team members.

As everyone on both teams descended down onto the field’s ground again, Jacaerys quickly flew over to where you stood, grinning triumphantly and leaning over the railing to kiss you fiercely. When you rested your hand on his shoulder for balance, you felt him wince.

“Your shoulder?” You whispered as Luke patted his other one and the others around you congratulated him.

Jace shrugged, crooking a smile at you. “Barely a scrape.”

Your eyes widened. “They hit you?”

“It’s alright.” He pecked your cold cheek before Cregan yelled from somewhere under you to get his ass over here and he had to leave. “Don't worry, okay?”

Easier said than done.

When the Quidditch team returned to the castle, you were already waiting for Jace, a small jar with a cooling herb cream resting in your lap. While your friends shared speculoos and hot chocolate by the fire, Jace was sitting in front of you on the soft carpet, leaning into your touch as you applied the salve to his bruised shoulder. You tried to keep up with the conversations around you, but your mind kept trailing off.

Was your life going to look like this from now on, constantly threatened and your love in danger and a target until you’d stop revolting against your parents’ orders?        

That night, you found yourself unable to sleep, staring off at the ceiling of the bedroom’s tower and listening to the wind outside. Everyone had gone to bed early and you had tried to read a little, but found no joy in it. Everything had turned out fine in the end today, why couldn’t you simply let it go?

You sighed, shifting to lay on your side, and stared at the picture frame on your nightstand. There were a few photos of Jace and you in there, but the one you liked most had been taken by the Great Lake earlier this year. You had fallen asleep with your head on Jace’s thigh, your hands still laced together, and he lovingly looked down at you, keeping watch as you found rest.

You stared at the photograph for a long time, but your eyes wouldn’t droop. With a frustrated sigh, you slipped out of bed and out onto the stairwell. But instead of going to the common room, you walked upstairs.

You held your breath as you opened the door to the boys’ bedroom, sneaking in on your tiptoes and squinting your eyes so you wouldn’t stumble over anything on your way to Jace’s bed. You stopped, taking a moment to look at his peaceful, sleeping form. He always had his mouth open a little bit, adorably curled into himself on his side as his chest rose and fell slowly.

A part of you regretted having come here, not wanting to disturb his well-deserved sleep, but another selfish part of you needed him close, to assure yourself everything would be okay in the end.

On his bed, Jacaerys shifted and let out a tiny groan, blinking his eyes open at you. Standing there in your sleeping clothes, you looked like a little ghost and his heart skipped an excited beat at you being here.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You whispered into the darkness, fearing your voice would break if you raised it any higher. The sounds of ruffling sheets filled the room as Jace shuffled over and made space for you, opening his arms without any hesitation.

“Of course, love. C’mere, ‘s cold…”

You slipped underneath the covers, sighing as you were enveloped by Jace’s warmth, your boyfriend immediately pulling you against him and snuggling his face into your neck.  You slung your arm around his waist and breathed him in, trying to keep the dark thoughts swirling through your mind at bay.

He smelled like home.

He was your home and who could promise that you wouldn’t lose him eventually?

“Did you dream badly?” Jace whispered into your hair and you shook your head, clinging only tighter to him. You wanted to crawl underneath his sleeping shirt, to melt into him until you’d never been seen again.

“…just needed you.” You mumbled tiredly, your nerves calming down a little as Jace caressed you lightly in the dark. He hummed against your temple and kissed your cheek, not interpreting too much into your small words. “Go to sleep again, it’s okay…”

You closed your eyes too, swallowing against the vulnerable tightness in your throat as you slowly felt Jace drift off into sleep again. You internally scolded yourself to get it together, not wanting to risk any hot tears falling upon Jace’s skin. If you tried hard enough, you could pretend just a little longer that you weren’t breaking apart right in his protecting arms…

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

In the final two weeks before Christmas, you were sure you were slowly losing it.

As you prepared for the final exams of the year – no professor really having mercy on their oldest students at the castle – a final letter from your parents reached you, with instructions on which fireplace to use in Knockturn Alley to floo-powder travel home. Before that, you were to go to Madame Malkin to pick up a gown, which you were supposed to wear during the dinner to impress Alicent’s sons. The humiliating orders of your parents paired with the stress of all the exams you still had to ace quickly left you spiraling, causing you to retreat into yourself and neglect your friends.

More and more, they all began to talk about going home for Christmas and involuntarily, you had started to snap easily, wanting to be left alone to focus on your work to avoid their questions.

You watched the rain pour down outside of the windows, the busy chattering of the rest of your class like white noise in your ear. You had woken up tired already this morning and now you were stuck in potions class, the one you shared with Jace.

The thoughts about the upcoming holidays and an inevitable confrontation with your parents were eating you alive and you couldn’t concentrate, reading over the recipe of the potion you were supposed to make over and over again without understanding the words.

Beside you, Jacaerys worked away on his own kettle, but he had been keeping watch of you for a while now, gnawing at his bottom lip with concern. 

Since the Quidditch game, he could feel you slowly slipping from his grasp, distancing yourself when you spent time with your friends and going to bed early and getting up late. You fell asleep in the common room often, in his arms where he could see the dark circles underneath your eyes or alone on the couch by the fire until he had to wake you up for dinner. You ate less than usual and were only seen around in his hoodies, staring into space and daydreaming.

Jace worried about you, but you seemed not very eager to share your worries with him. In retrospect, he could now see that you had been retreating into yourself for a while now and he hated himself for not seeing it earlier. Now it seemed, all he could do was to be there for you and show he was listening if you wanted to open up to him.

“Remember, students, the mixture we are making today is intended to be only brewed by seventh year students for a reason!” Your professor walked between the aisles, peeking into a few kettles here and there. “You are to handle it with utmost carefulness.”

Jace noticed you staring at the parchment in front of you, your eyes not moving to read. He leaned over, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Baby? Could you hand me the goat hair you got over there?”

You perked up and his heart clenched at your glassy eyes, your pale skin. You rummaged around in the boxes you had been given, attempting a smile as you gave the vial to him. “There you go.”

He let his fingers brush over yours for a moment before you retreated, going back to your own potion. Jace suppressed a sigh, catching Baela’s eyes from across the room who had been watching the small exchange. They were all worried about you and you knew.   

If you didn’t find a way to prevent the forging of the poisonous band your family planned for you, you were not only going to lose yourself. You were going to lose every single one of your friends. Your hands started shaking at the thought of them despising you, avoiding you in Hogwarts and having to pick up the broken pieces you would leave between Jace and you when you eventually would have to end things before you hurt him even further…

You shuddered, grabbing one of the smoking glasses in the middle of the table for your kettle. What would Jace think if he saw one of his uncles and you, on the first page of the Daily Prophet, announcing the union between the Hightowers and your family-

The glass slipped from your grasp, the contents briefly sloshing against your hand before it all shattered on the ground.

The students around you gasped, taking a step back in fright while Jace took one closer to you, reaching out a hand. You heard him speaking to you, hushed and fast, but you couldn’t comprehend what he said as you looked at your hand in shock.

Burning streaks painted the palm of your hand red as if you had attempted and failed badly to catch a whip mid-air. You stared at the wound in disbelief for a moment.

Then, the pain came.

“Oh my goodness, hold on everyone, reparo!” The professor hurried over to your side and you silently watched as the broken glass to your feet levitated up on the table until all the liquor was back inside and sat perfectly in front of you. “What have I told you about handling this ingredient carefully?”

“Professor, she’s hurt.” Jace said, his voice dripping with worry for you. You could not look into his eyes, afraid of what you’d find in them. “She needs to go to the infirmary.”

You tried to take a steady breath and to your own shock, a little sob escaped your lips instead, just barely audible. The burn on your hand felt like wildfire spreading, but there was something else aching in you too, the stress and worries of the last week making it all worse. You knew if you’d stayed, you’d break down in front of everyone in the class.

You were not going to let them see.

Brushing off Jace’s hand on your shoulder, you made your way straight towards the door, not looking back despite the protests of your professor and Jace calling out your name. You tried to blink away the hot tears burning in your eyes, clutching your shaking hand close to your chest, but by the time you nearly ran down the corridor, they were already overflowing.

It was all too much.

Behind you, you heard Jace sprinting down the hallway after you and your chest only tightened, panicked at the thought of him seeing you like this. Just as you wanted to take a corner and disappear out of his sight, he reached out, gently touching your arm and holding you back.

“Baby, you need to go to the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey has to take a look at that.” Jace insisted emphatically, turning you around to face him. “Let me walk you-…”

You stared at your feet, not meeting his eyes as he took in your miserable state. Your nose already felt stuffy and your head hurt from keeping down your tears, heart pounding achingly in your chest. Jace opened his mouth to say something, shocked and worried to see you so sorrowfully.

“What’s going on, love?” He asked softly, stepping in front of you and shielding you from a group of passing students. You pressed your lips together, unable to answer and shaking your head instead. Jacaerys gently laid his arm around you, careful not to brush against your hurt hand, quickly thinking about what this all meant.

“Let’s go to Madame Pomfrey together, okay?” He said gently. “She needs to look at this, I bet it hurts, huh?”

At his soft tone with you, you let out a tiny whimper, hiding your face in his shoulder as he shushed you comfortingly, starting to walk with you. “Sh sh, it’s going to be alright, I promise. We need to cool this, c’mon, we’re halfway there, okay?”

You let yourself be led by him, exhausted and not strong enough anymore to keep up the act that everything was fine. On your way through the hallways, you disassociated a little, Jace’s arm around you and his whispered comforts the only thing keeping you halfway in the present moment. At least there was no one else at Madam Pomfrey’s desk, saving you from further humiliation.

“Hello dear, what can I- oh goodness, what has happened?” The elderly woman came around the table and inspected your hand.

“We were in Potions and one of the ingredients spilled.” Jace explained calmly, although his voice trembled. He led you towards one of the chairs by the entrance of the hall, staying by your side as the nurse took your hand and cooed compassionately. “I think it was a burn potion?”

“Yes, it looks like it.” Madame Pomfrey looked at you. “You must be in great pain, my dear.”

You had been for a long time.

“It’s nothing that’ll leave a permanent mark, we’ll cool this and then there’s a potion that should help as well overnight, hold on.” You watched silently as she returned with a slick cloth and hissed as she slowly placed it down on your palm. Jace’s hand on your shoulder caressed you soothingly and you bit your lip through the pain, not wanting to make a sound.

After she had wrapped your hand, Madame Pomfrey left for her potion cabinet, leaving Jace and you alone. Your hand throbbed dully, but the pain was slowly fading away and Jace sat down beside you, gently taking your other hand in his.

“Will you talk to me?” He asked quietly and without pressure. “I can tell something is wrong, dear. There has been for a while now, hasn’t it?”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and playing with your hand in his. Closing your red eyes in defeat, you told him. “My parents have written to me to come home over Christmas. They want me to meet the Hightowers with them to-…They think a match with either Aegon or Aemond will be beneficial for the family.”

Jace exhaled, the expression on his face unreadable as he clenched his jaw.

“I-“ You searched for the words you had kept down for so long. “They don’t care for my opinion at all. I’m just a valuable chess piece and they move me however they want for their own wealth and station. It doesn’t matter what I want or what I think and-  I’m going to lose you and everyone will hate me, this is only the beginning of their schemes, I know it-“

Jace stopped you in your rambling and wordlessly took you into his arms, his hands itching to take his wand and simply hex your sorrow away. Something in you broke at his gentle embrace and you slumped against him, letting the tears flow as he brushed over your hair and kissed the top of your head.

“You’re not ever going to lose me, love.” He murmured, his need to comfort you clashing against the rage he nurtured for the other side of his family. “I’m not going to let this happen.”

“Me neither.” You sniffled hopelessly, looking up at him through glassy eyes. “I would rather die than engage with them. But I’m scared of what they’ll do if I don’t comply. If you’re getting hurt because of me, I will lose it.”

You felt yourself hyperventilating, but Jace took your tear-streaked face between his hands and deeply looked at you, making you focus entirely on him. “Hey, hey. No one will get hurt, okay? I promise you this, you will not lose me, my love. No matter what happens, me and my family will have your back. We’re adults now, we’re graduating next year, no one can tell you anything or force you to an arrangement like this. You only belong to yourself and I will not let them take you from me, alright?”

You nodded miserably, remembering your bandaged hand just before you wanted to wipe your cheek. Jacaerys smiled softly at you, brushing the tears away from you and kissing your forehead.

“Is this why you have been so distant recently?” Jace asked gently and you nodded in defiance.

“I didn’t mean to.” You said guiltily. “I was just so stressed and…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Jace said, drawing you close again and resting your head on his shoulder. “I just wished I could’ve helped you earlier, you don’t have to go through this alone. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You sniffled one last time before the last of your tears tried and you felt a little lighter on the inside. Squeezing his hand, you took a deep breath while the two of you sat huddled together in the silence of the hospital wing.

After a while, the pain in your hand had retreated almost all the way and you longed for your bed. You let out a small yawn and Jace chuckled, nuzzling his cheek against your head.

“You know, if I would’ve known, I would’ve asked you this so much earlier.” Jace shook his head, softly cupping your cheek and stroking your heated skin. “Will you spend Christmas with me? You can stay over at my family’s home for the entire holidays, we have enough space. I’ve been thinking about it for some time now and I want you there with all of us, more than ever now. My mother would be delighted to have you, we all would. And I can’t have you going to your parents now, I just can’t. Hey, please don’t cry again.”

You laughed watery, not able to stop the emotional tears from coming. You were overwhelmed by Jace’s question, how much love laid in his proposal and you couldn’t stop your heart from screaming out yes, yes, yes.

You pressed your forehead against Jace’s, playing with his hair as you smiled. “Yes. It would be an honor to be with your family for the holidays. I want to spend Christmas with you, if you’ll have me.”

“I always will. My home is yours.” Jace mumbled softly, wanting to press a kiss to your nose. 

“And you are mine.” You whispered back and were quicker, pulling him down into a slow kiss and putting all of what you felt in that moment into it as your lips slowly moved against each other, Jace’s hand resting on your waist while the other disappeared in your hair, tilting your head to the side.

You’d protect him just as he was going to protect you.

And as you two kissed and Madame Pomfrey eventually walked in on you, the way Jacaerys jumped even made you giggle, you knew you were going to be alright.

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

On Christmas morning, you woke up in the arms of the love of your life.

Above you, there was a beautiful hanging mobile, its little dragons dancing in the warm morning sun. You smiled, enjoying the way the sunbeams fell onto the checkered thick blankets of the bed, how the old heater by the window crackled and the quiet sounds of the house made it feel like a real home.

Stifling a little yawn, you nestled back into Jace’s embrace, your boyfriend still in dreamland as you slowly took in your surroundings. Jacaerys was plastered against your back, one of his arms slung over you and resting protectively on your stomach underneath his shirt you had stolen. The other rested under your head as a pillow for you and you noticed with amusement how his hand twitched from time to time while he was dreaming.

Jace’s childhood bedroom was exactly how you had imagined it to be.

On a big shelf in front of his bed were countless books on magical history and dragons, whether they were biographies or travel reports, the great novels of famous wizards and witches and tales he had read when he was younger. On the walls were photos of his family and friends at Hogwarts and you, again and again and again, smiling back at yourself from every corner of the room. His closet was a neat mix of hoodies – which you wanted to take with you, preferably all of them – casual clothes and more elegant things to wear for official gatherings of his well-known family.

Underneath the covers of his twin-size bed, you felt safe, sheltered from the rest of the world and you sighed happily, snuggling your cheek against his bicep just as Jace stirred behind you.

You turned in his arms and you felt as if your heart was golden when the morning sun reflected in Jace’s brown eyes blinking sleepily at you.

“Good morning.” You whispered, a besotted smile on your face as Jace’s face scrunched up and he quickly turned his head so he wouldn’t yawn in your face.

You laughed quietly, snuggling closer to him underneath the thick blanket you shared and tangling your legs together. Jace sighed blissfully and pecked your cheek as he brushed your hair back behind your ear. Your hand had been healed for several days now. “’morning, beautiful. Merry Christmas.”

You smiled, although a little sadness remained inside of you. Maybe it was not ever going to leave again. “Merry Christmas, Jace.”

Ever since you had arrived at the town house of Jacaerys’ family in London, the Targaryens had done everything to give you a warm welcome after you had never showed up at Knockturn Alley to throw a hand of floo-powder to the fire. Jace’s brothers had been particularly excited to meet you, the girl on Jace’s photos and his mind when he was home during summer, and his mother and step-father had been pleased to finally meet you as well.

Two days ago, far in the evening when you had sat close to Jace in the living room and listened to one of Rhaenys’ stories as glasses of cherry wine were shared and candles lit, a final letter from your parents had reached you.

Seven simple words on paper for all eternity.

You are no daughter of ours anymore.

While you had stared wordlessly at the message in your lap, Rhaenyra and Daemon quickly had sent everyone else to bed until only the adults, Jace and you remained. A whirlwind of emotions had rushed through you then and before you knew what came over you, it was like a dam had broken and you were crying. With Jace’s arm securely around you as he softly whispered into your ear and Rhaenyra reaching over to hold your hand, you had mourned the relationship you never had with your parents, the tears both suffocating and freeing you at once.

You were released from their clutches, after all.

And you had been lucky enough to find your real family along the way.

After that, when Jace and you had gone to bed and you had slept through the entire night, the holidays had been going splendidly. And when Rhaenyra had assured you during breakfast that you stood under her family’s protection now, you knew you were going to be okay.

For the first time, you truly felt at home.

You went for walks around the neighborhood, building snowmen with Jace’s little twin brothers and making hot chocolates for everyone in the afternoons. You made gingerbread houses with Baela and Rhaena and asked Rhaenyra all about her career as an auror. Daemon you had beat at Wizard’s chess, leaving him speechless while Jacaerys cackled in the background.

One afternoon, Jace’s family had left the house for some last errand running before Christmas and he had loved you in front of the fireplace, slowly eating you out and letting his hands wander over your naked body on the furs...You had rode him until the two of you were breathless and you had almost drooled on Jace’s shoulder in bliss as he had rocked into you at a toe-curling slow pace.

You smiled at the memory, happily closing your eyes and leaning into his touch when Jace started to softly kiss your neck, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist as he pulled you half-atop of him. Like this, your leg was hooked over his side and his hand cupped your cheek, keeping you close while he ravished you with little kisses.

“Jace, we should go downstairs…” You breathed, your eyes fluttering closed and mouth dropping open as Jacaerys paid special attention to the sweet spot on your neck now, nibbling at the sensitive skin before licking over it soothingly.

Jace let out a hoarse little sound, something between a groan and a whine. “Five more minutes…” He nuzzled his face into your shoulder and you chuckled, combing softly through his hair while he cuddled with you.

“Don’t you want to get your gifts?” You teased him playfully and squealed when he squeezed your bum, which ultimately ended in a small pillow war until you threatened to hex every of his books to fly an attack on him.

He smirked at you as he helped you out of bed, a small flushing adorning his pretty face. “I already got the best gift right here.”

And how were you supposed to not kiss him right then?

It only took a little more convincing and willpower to not stay in bed with Jace until you two descended down the staircase together, the excited sounds and conversations from the big salon guiding your way. Jace had changed into a dress shirt and some nice tailored pants while you wore a dark velvet dress with a turtleneck, the ballerina shoes on your feet a festive red. In your hair, you wore a bow and Jace squeezed your hand in his before you walked into the room to join his family, stopping briefly one more time to kiss underneath the mistletoe that hung in the hallway.

“Good morning, everyone!” Jace beamed as the little twins ran up to him, excitingly talking over each other about what they got for Christmas. “Did you get some nice things this year, guys?”

Rhaenyra smiled warmly at you and you looked into the round, a little shy out of the sudden to be present at such a family-centric moment. “Merry Christmas…”

Rhaenys invitingly patted the empty space between her on the couch and you joined her, Baela and Rhaena as the twins pulled Jace over to the large Christmas tree. There was a little locomotive flying around it as it chu-chued and the ornaments had a certain spark to them that could only be explained by a charm.

“Jace look, we got a magic kit to make fireworks!” Aegon and Viserys basically vibrated with happiness. “We are going to blow up the ministry!”

Daemon barked out an amused laugh, looking at their sons proudly while Rhaenyra just shook her head. “No, we are not blowing anything up, you can at least wait until New Year, boys.”

Meanwhile, Corlys and Luke were busy with a big photograph book the latter got, the pictures of the sea and its many creatures and legends coming to life and nearly making a wet mess on the ground between them.

“We’re so glad you’re here.” Baela nudged you in the side, lacing your fingers together while Rhaena did the same on your other side. “You’re part of our family. That's all that matters, alright?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice as you hugged them both. You watched together as Jace unpacked a large present, revealing a brand-new Quidditch gear and looking at his parents speechlessly before he went to hug them both tightly. In the room, presents left hands and found new ones and soon, the ground was littered with gift wrapping paper and Jace had gravitated towards you again, sitting down in an armchair as well and bidding you over silently.

His family, sensing the coming moment of quiet between you, went on with unpacking and gifting each other as you sat down on Jace’s knee and smiled at him.

“You haven’t opened yours yet.” Jace mumbled mysteriously and you gasped as he pulled out a little box.

“Jace, you didn’t have to-“

“I wanted to.” Jace insisted, his thumb caressing your thigh as he looked at you seriously. “I love you. It’s Christmas. And…I hope you’ll like it, if not, I could bring it back and you can choose something else-“

You opened the bow around the box and opened the lid, your hands shaking despite yourself. Inside, bedded on a little velvet pillow, waited the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. It was a delicate thing, a shiny pearl hugged and protected by a swirl of silver. Your finger brushed over the piece before you looked at Jace in disbelief.

“Jace…it’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help the tears welling up in your eyes. “It feels magical, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jace said shyly, carefully brushing your hair over your shoulder so he could help you put it on. The cool silver rested perfectly around your neck as Jace’s hand splayed out on your lower back. “It’s…us. Here, take a look.” He lifted the pearl to your face and it took you a moment to see what he meant.

It was hard to explain. For a second, you only saw the smooth surface of the irregular pearl, but then it changed, making room for…memories. You stared into it in awe, as moments of Jace and you flashed before your vision.

You and him on the train to Hogwarts, sharing sweets and napping. The two of you studying together outside by the lake, a blanket thrown over your legs while you made little fireflies dance over your heads. Sharing breakfast at the Great Hall and kissing in the rain. His laughter and yours. A whisper of I love you in your ear. Jace smiling at you and lacing your fingers together…All these tiny moments that made life and love with him so good.

You slowly put down the pearl, lost for hours as you looked at your boyfriend. “I…I have never possessed something as wonderful as this, in my entire life, Jace.”

Jacaerys flushed a bright red, cooing at you when you quickly brushed a tear away. “I’m glad you like it, angel, but please, I can’t see you crying on a day like this.”

You laughed quietly, lifting his chin and kissing him slowly before leaning your forehead against his and whispering: “Thank you. It’s so beautiful, I love it. I love you.”

“Love you too…” He smiled at you. “I’m so glad I could pull this charm off, it wasn’t as easy as the books said.”

You poked his shoulder playfully. “Speaking of charms.” You reached into the pocket of your dress, producing a little package of your own. “Uh-uh, don’t look at me like that, if you get to surprise me, I can return the favor. Give me your hand. And close your eyes.”

Jace complied, waiting curiously as you fumbled with something in his lap. Then, he felt something cool on his wrist and opened his eyes again, meeting your bright smile as his heart melted.

“It’s an enchanted bracelet.” You explained to him as he looked at it, fascinated by the way the little dragon scales seemed to move, its subtle green shimmer perfectly matching Vermax’. “There’s a spell on it meaning to protect you from harm and bring you good luck.”

You didn’t have to tell him part of the reason why you’d chosen it for him. A part of you would continue to worry, but as long as Jace was with you, you were strong. You both made each other strong.

Jace looked at you softly and with understanding in his eyes and turned the bracelet on his wrist, in awe of your pure talent.

“I also made sure it can’t slip off during a Quidditch game-“

He swallowed the rest of your sentence with a kiss.

You smiled against his lips, letting yourself be kissed by him and nearly forgetting that you were in fact not alone. For just one more moment, you let yourself be surrounded by him, his hand still securely on your waist as the other played with your new necklace before-

“Hey lovebirds! Come on, breakfast is ready!” Luke called over from the doorframe and you and Jace laughed together as you helped him up. The rest of your family already was in the dining room, busy with finding seats and talking over each other.

“Thank you.” Jace whispered at you, laying an arm around your shoulder. “For everything. These are the best Christmas holidays ever.”

“We haven’t even had our New Years party.” You hummed, excited for the future for the first time in a long time.

“I can’t wait.” Jace grinned, holding out the chair for you at your family’s table.

Yes, you couldn’t wait to see what the future brought.

You smiled at him. “Me neither.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!”

You leaned against your doorframe, with your arms tightly crossed against your chest. A sigh escaped from your nostrils faintly, having Jace’s tall figure towering your own with his height.

It had never been no secret that you had favoured Jacaerys ever since you became friends. Every single time you were together, or someone brought him up casually in a conversation, you were tirelessly teased by all the people that immediatly noticed the rosy hue creeping on your cheeks, dismissing the fact that everyone, including your own family, suspected that you were enamoured by him. You denied it endlessly, even to yourself. All Jace was to you, was your best friend.

Friends and relatives kept insisting that the reason why Jace was nearly glued to you 24/7 despite having other friends to hang out with, was because everyone was so certain that he crushed on you, probably just like you did. You always took their claims between pinches, believing that Jacaerys was merely loving with you, like any best friend would be, and again, you constantly tried dismissing them. You were in absolute denial.

At the present time, you now had the chance of going with Jace to a party, being invited by him and with no other friends from your friends group going with you — as far as you knew —, and unfortunately, you had been left with endless assignments and pending homework to present before the deadline you were given.

“Jace, I have no doubt it will be fun.” you retorted, inhaling a bit before continuing to speak, “But you know I have to study—” quickly, he interrupted you. Jace knew exactly what you would tell him, and he wasn’t having none of it. You were going to get dragged to that party with him, no ‘buts’ allowed.

“I know, I know. But pleeease, come with me?” the way he managed to put on a perfect lost puppy face to be more convincing was tempting you to accept, especially when he extended the word please. It was hard to say no, but you still tried to keep yourself disciplined. “I promise you, I will bring you back home safe and sound early. Please?”

With brief seconds of silence looming over you as you thought of his proposal, you released another sigh, as a little grin tugged at the corner of your lips. A bit of fun would do no harm, after all. And besides, you needed a break from the mind fog seeing all those scholar assignments provoked you.

“Fine. You managed to convince me. I will take my coat with me.” you said, turning around to quickly search for your coat, that surely was tossed on your couch. Immediatly his coffee-coloured eyes twinkled joyfully, stupidly offering you a toothy grin from excitement. Before getting back inside, you turned around, pointing your index finger at him.

“But, you promised you will be getting me back home early,” it was difficult to have a serious expression on your features while noticing how hardly he was fighting back a childlish little proud smile quivering on his rosy, plushy lips. “And you will be fulfilling that promise.”

And with that, Jace nodded eagerly. It was impossible not to adore him with the personified golden retriever vibes he carried. “Understood, ma’am.”

Going from your house to the house where the party had been hosteed was only a short drive. The moment you set foot on the ground off of his car, swiftly closing the car door behind of you, you could even hear from outside the loud music blasting inside and see some flashing bright lights that perfectly set the partying mood. It wasn’t your first time going to a party with a friend, of course, but this one seemed to be louder and more messy.

As soon as you were kindly greeted inside by one of his acquaintances — that was the party hoster as well —, your eyes curiously stared at the ambience. The strong scent of alcohol mixed with the smoke coming from some lit cigarettes was already intoxicating, and everyone seemed to be dazed into their own little worlds. Being such a large house, you felt a bit lost, unconsciously clinging to Jace to avoid getting lost.

“Wow,” you muttered quietly, observing attentively your surroundings. “This place is huge.” Jace quietly chuckled to himself at your reaction, noticing how amused you were at the environment. “I might just get lost at any given chance.” while that was meant to sound as a joke, truth remained under the lines of your statement. He rolled his eyes playfully.

“I know, right?” he retorted, beginning to walk around the large house, getting amidst the crowd of people. “But, don’t worry. You won’t actually get lost, you know? You get used to it eventually.” you walked behind of him like a lost puppy, almost. Your eyes curiously wandered around, occasionally craning your head around and pausing on your steps to mentally guide yourself through the house. Taking slow steps to allow you to catch up with him, a wide grin appeared on his lips as he turned around to look on you.

“Don’t worry about getting lost, love. You can easily find your way back whenever you want. And there’s always someone who can help you, so don’t be afraid of asking for directions.” you nodded in agreement, feeling relieved at his words. The feeling of heat began creeping on your cheeks leisurely, becoming a crimson tint on your face. Hearing him refer to you as love, despite being used to him being this endearing with you, never failed to make you feel like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Everytime that feeling grew inside of you, you quickly tried thinking of something else to pretend you had never just felt those types of emotions with your best friend.

It was unbeknownst to you that the eldest Velaryon boy pretty much felt flustered of having your presence so near to his own, without having any other mutual friend around you. Noticing the blatant crimson shade forming on your cheeks, with his hand Jacaerys playfully ruffled your hair in a teasing manner, like he always used to be around you. “Or perhaps, I could also just leave you around here by yourself without you realising... And you’ll actually see it’s not so hard to find your way back.” he said with a chuckle spurring from your lips. Rolling your eyes again, you pushed his hand from your now chaotic hair from his ruffling, fighting back a grin to form on your lips.

“Do that and I will kill you. Mark my words.” now, he snickered a bit loudly at your comments. for Jace, being annoyed at his own teasing simply made you more loveable for him. He wouldn’t actually admit it, much like yourself, as he felt shy enough to even think about admitting such thing to you, but one of the reasons Jace adored playing around with you and getting you annoyed, or even calling you endearing nicknames, was to simply see your pretty cheeks light up all thanks to him. And he took pride on it.

Several minutes then had passed, with you walking by his side, nearly glued to his body. Jace walked around the large house, trying not to stumble upon the crowds of people in each space, as he lead you to different rooms to show you around. During several moments when you got distracted, you caught glimpses of people dazing themselves off with the alcohol, smoking, or even couples laying on the couches or hiding in a corner notoriously kissing in a rather fervent manner.

Curiously, without thinking much about it as over the passing time you grew slightly more confident inside the house where the party was being hosted, you decided to explore around by yourself. Not that you had forgotten about Jace, of course, but you had all the confidence in the world of strolling around the large party knowing Jace was near you. You hadn’t distanced yourself much from him, or at least you tried not to merely as to not test your own luck; it was just a few random rooms and spaces that you decided to briefly explore, before turning around and walking towards one of the rooms where you had caught a glimpse of Jace going to.

“I have no idea how you can easily walk around here without getting lost.” you spoke naturally, with your voice slightly raised due to the loudly blasting music, assuming Jace was going to be there where you thought you had seen him. “I mean, I get it that you’ve been here several times but Jesus Christ, I would get lost over and over each time.” you continued joking, with your hands on your pockets as your gaze lingered on the ground for a few seconds before raising them to look at Jacaerys.

But there was no sight of him, only a few small groups of people that talked with each other. Without realising, Jace apparently had kept walking mindlessly around, disappearing amidst the rooms and the large crowd of people that occupied the broad spaces. And by the time you tried to keep up with him after trying to quickly explore the house, you immediatly realised you had lost Jace from near sight.

Abruptly stopping on your steps, in the middle of one of the halls surrounded by sy strangers, you tried scanning the place. For fucks sake, how could have Jace disappeared in the blink of an eye? He was just around where you had been, he couldn’t be so far away! You could feel your heart slightly starting to pound against your chest, that provoked a burdening disorientated sensation on you at being in such vast, unknown space.

“Jace?” lifting your voice slightly, you turned around again, moving your gaze absolutely everywhere. A frustrated huff escaped from you. “You can easily find your way back whenever you want,” he said, “You won’t get lost.” and here you where. At that moment, you remembered the moment Jacaerys said he would abruptly leave you to your own so you would know how to find your way back. But, knowing him, it was most likely that he probably left you alone by accident rather than currently be playing around with you.

You were about to kill him for leaving you around by yourself, without a doubt.

The nerves were beginning to overwhelm you, feeling lightheaded at the disorientation you currently had. To which, you decided to trace back your steps, managing to guide yourself to the living hall where most of the guests were, and it was near the main front door. Maybe he was right, once you explored around and got used to this strangers — his acquaintances — house, you would get used to it.

After spending the few next minutes tracing back all of the rooms you had gone through, with your anxiety rising with the slow passing of the seconds, you released a sigh of relief the moment you reached the main living room. Perhaps Jace was there, or if you didn’t find him, you would just leave and wait outside next to his car — sooner or later, he would realise you weren’t there.

The blaring music coming from the speakers had increased in sound, as well as the loud chattering and drunken giggles. You reached the crowd full of people, occasionally tiptoeing a bit, nearly bumping into some as to spot for Jacaerys. You eventually found yourself nearly surfing into the crowds of people, being careful as to not spill anyone’s drink or anything. As you tiptoed again, you managed to spot Jace in a corner, making you feel relieved to have caught a glimpse of him. Immediatly, you rushed towards him, still being cautious due to the vast amount of guests.

And as you got nearer him, you realised a bit late that he was hanging around with a girl. Soft laughter spurred from his rosy lips as his eyes twinkled, hearing very faintly how they made silly comments.

You recognised the girl immediatly, as you had often seen her in the group of friends you shared with Jacaerys, and in a way, she could be considered rather popular. It was none other than Sara Snow. A tinge of jealousy overwhelmed you abruptly, feeling a tight knot forming on your stomach. You had to admit to yourself, she was literally beautiful; with long dark hair, fair skin, and in general, all her features were absolutely beateous. Sara knew how to be charming and endearing, but knowing how close to Jacaerys she was, it simply made you want to vanish right there and forget you had seen him laughing along her silly remarks and being close to one another.

A great burden sat on your chest rather uncomfortably, yet it was hard to gaze away. And now all you wanted, despite being hesitant in approaching them, was simply to leave. For those dreadful seconds that you stood there, almost out of the crowd, staring at them; you were leisurely being hit with the realisation that... Maybe, after all, your friends and relatives were right all along despite your constant denial and dismissing. You were indeed enamoured of Jacaerys. You were head over heels for him, and you felt a part of you being ripped apart brutally at the sight of him hanging around so casually with another woman.

Part of you tried to keep denying it, but another part of yourself, was much more strongly accepting the feelings that remained hidden in you for such a long time. You gulped anxiously, feeling a lump choke your throat, having a mix of jealousy, anger, and disappointment. Of course, you were well aware that both of them laughing and talking meant nothing... Probably. But either way, you had a growingly strenuous need of pulling him away with her, and having him taking you home again.

A shaky huff escaped from you, feeling your hands trembling from all the burning jealousy that had been ignited inside of you. “Jacaerys!” you brought his attention, immediatly breaking their conversation as you approached them, and their gazes fell on you. His coffee eyes seemed to become brighter at the sight of you, offering you a dumbfounding toothy grin. Gods, he could make you melt right there. “(y/n)! I had been looking for you, but I simply assumed—”

You interrupted him abruptly, moving your stare to Sara for a moment. “Sorry, I’m stealing him away from you for the rest of the night. But it was lovely seeing you again!” those words were nearly spat, sounding harshly cold before looking back at Jacaerys, forcing a smile. “We have to go. It’s getting late for me, remember?” your words came rushed as you raised your eyebrows at him, and Jace seemed to be completely oblivious about how you were seething.

His eyes were widen in realisation at the time, remembering you had to get back home early. The party had been a mere study break for you, that was all. “Oh, yes! You’re right, sorry!” he quickly apologised, looking at you for a moment, before staring at the girl in front of him. “It was lovely talking to you, Sara, see you another ti—”

Not holding yourself back from the smothering jealousy that seemed to increase with the passing of the seconds, you abruptly took Jace’s hand. It was the first time you had actually held hands, especially with such a tight grip as your own, currently. His hands were warm, and his skin had some sort of velvet texture. His eyes widened in surprise at your actions, realising that your physical contact seemed very soothing, in a way.

A faint rosy tint formed on his cheeks, as well as your own, starting to drag him away from Sara Snow, and the entire party. He managed to wave goodbye to her in a hurried way, but really, his focus was now on you like it always had been.

Your steps were loud against the floor, nearly stomping. There was something in the atmosphere around you that clearly indicated, you weren’t exactly holding the most positive vibes. Maybe something had happened, besides you wanting to get home early to study and present your assignments on time, and he wasn’t aware of it. The door was swiftly open, taking him outside with you, and you slammed it close immediatly. In a way, you felt embarrassed of not hiding the fact that you weren’t content, but it didn’t matter at the moment.

“Jacaerys Velaryon, I will so kill you. I’m getting late.” you muttered between your clenched teeth, letting go of his hand so he can use his keys to unlock the car, and get inside. Those words didn’t mean to sound angry, but rather, as if you were rushed. And you were, you now wanted to get back home and simply forget about the situation and the own realisation of your feelings. “I’m sorry! I thought you had found your own way around the rooms to have fun!” he shouted back, excusing himself. There was no lie in it, he was merely being innocently genuine having thought that you would follow him, but then noticed how you kept exploring the vast rooms.

Reaching the car door, you opened it, and wasted no time in getting inside of it. Loud slamming was heard from both of you, as he felt a certain discontented hurried vibe to you. It was clear in your words, way of acting, and the certain frowny face you expressed. Fastening your seatbelts, he wasted no time in getting the car started, faintly hearing in the background how the music continued being played, and everyone was immersed in their own little world. Pressing your head against the window with your arms tightly crossed against your chest, you tried to balance the feeling of being angrily moody at the situation, and as well, balancing how you suddenly realised that you did in fact fancy him more than just a best friend.

It was hard for you to admit it. And having to find out about your feelings thanks to another woman so blatantly trying to flirt with Jace and scooting closer to him wasn’t the best manner to find out. Jealousy rooted itself venomously on your stomach and chest, fighting back against the memories of them laughing and talking ever so casually. But at the same time, you felt awkwardly embarrassed of having that outburst with no control of your emotions in front of him. He had no fault in your own emotions, Jace was simply kind and polite with everyone, and obviously he just wanted you to have some fun with him.

As the car started, the rest of the ride was entirely noiseless. Awkward silence bloomed with the passing seconds, only hearing very silently the wind gushing through the slightly open car windows, and the sound of a few cars driving past you. Your eyes were fixed on the view of your passenger window, not daring to even flinch or move to avoid making things more awkward and tense, somehow.

Having known you for quite some time, Jace always sensed when something was wrong with you, and being the lovingly caring person he is — especially when it comes to you —, he always felt the imminent and only natural preoccupation growing in him.

The car leisurely stopped from driving as you had to pull up in front of a red light; being merely a few blocks away from reaching your house. Your arms continued tightly crossed against you, with your head leaned against the car window. The soft gushing of the wind continued passing through the slightly open windows, feeling refreshed in a way to have the cool breeze hit delicately against your face in such a tense moment between the two of you. Maybe you had overreacted, as you really wasn’t angry with him; you were overwhelmed with

Despite not daring to turn your head and stare at him, or even speak up about what happened, you could feel his gaze piercing on you with concern. His fingers fidgeted anxiously as he dreadfully awaited for the red lights to turn green. Clearing his throat, Jace decided to speak up first for both of you. “(y/n), are you... Alright?” he inquired, with a low cooing tone, fixing his stare on you. Your body stiffened slightly as he broke the ice in the atmosphere, but slowly tried to relax.

His eyes returned to the steering wheel and the road, the moment the green light brightly reflected upon both of you. The car continued moving, but in a tranquil manner as you were about to return home in a few minutes. “You seem upset,” jace continued. With your arms still crossed, you shyly decided to face him. “Did something happen back there that I need to be aware of?” gods, he was such a caring person. You felt bad of having reacted that way around him, but at the same time, you knew you couldn’t possibly be angry with him. In fact, you simply felt jealous towards Sara Snow, but not really upset. “Or... D-Did I do, or say anything to possibly make you feel angry at me?”

Despite not wanting to get his eyes off the road, his gaze met your own for a second, before entering the block where your house was located. At hearing his words and the hint of genuine concern behind his voice tone, your heart dropped heavily. Your eyes widened, as you shook your head. The least of things you wished right now, was to possibly make him feel bad at himself for a simple misunderstanding. In any case, you felt like the one to blame for the situation. “No, no! It’s alright, you didn’t say or do anything!” you clarified quickly, feeling your heart beating against your chest nervously.

“I-It’s just that, I...” you trailed off, stroking your arm with your hand up and down in a very slow manner rather awkwardly. Swallowing anxiously, you were uncertain whether to be honest with him, or simply keep up with the lie that you dragged him out of there because you were getting home later than expected. But, as bold as speaking up for your feelings was, with the risk of him possibly not reciprocating them, you felt the ardent need of admitting it to him. At least, it was much better than leaving him worried about you, or wondering what could’ve happened to you to react in such a strange, unlikely-of-you manner.

With a few seconds that passed, with an awkward silence being left after you left mumbled words to trail off into nothingness, the car eventually pulled up in front of your house. You sat in the passenger seat nervously, feeling a knot in your stomach, fidgeting with your fingers. As he stopped the car, his eyes managed to properly focus on you now, attentively hearing whatever you had to say. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jace. You could never make me feel upset,” you began. Softly, you inhaled air, lingering your gaze on your lap before raising it to stare at his own eyes.

“I think I like you.” you blurted out, immediatly swallowing.

Slowly, realisation dawned upon him. His lips parted very slightly as if to speak, but no words came, not for some time at least. Jacaerys seemed to be taken aback by this abrupt confession of yours, unsure of how to respond back to it. You bit down on your lower lip, waiting. The silence felt thick and heavy, suffocating you. His cheeks became a notorious crimson hue, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“(y/n),” he whispered, looking at you, “Do... D-Do you really mean it?” his words came out as if he were in utter disbelief. For his friends and close acquaintances, it was wellknown that Jace badly swooned after you, and his gaze never failed to be fixed on yours the moment he spotted you somewhere; unfortunately provoking him endless teasing. His cheeks became a notorious crimson hue, taking over his pale skin. You swallowed again, feeling the pressure build in your throat as your heart began to beat faster.

“Yes. I... I do mean it.” you admitted, nodding earnestly. Jace didn’t say anything further but you could tell from his expression that he was satisfied enough to know your answer. Silence kept hanging around the environment after you admitted it, dropping your gaze to your lap once again out of embarrassment, noticing that Jacaerys wasn’t saying anything else.

But you were surprised when one of his hands delicately, yet firmly lifted your head by your chin, and he leaned closer to you. Softly holding you by your chin, his lips were pressed against your own. They were beautifully plushy, enough for you to have the need to nibble on them playfully. Your eyes initially widened at the feeling of his warm lips locking with your own, but eventually they fluttered shut, allowing him to do as he pleased.

It was gentle at first, then gradually it became slightly more intense, tilting your head to your side to kiss him deeper. He held you securely with his arms around your waist, kissing you so tenderly that it seemed as if Jace had waited years for this to happen. You felt his hand travelling to the back of your neck, with his fingers reaching your hair and tangling themselves up on it’s silky strands. After what seemed to be an eternity, despite merely being almost a minute, your lips parted from one another.

With your eyes opening again, panting from the lack of air during the kiss, a silly little grin tugged at the corner of your lips, quivering until it became a proper toothy grin. Both your faces were equally flustered, as some giggles spurred from your now glossy lips. His arms remained around you, holding you dearly. “You could’ve said so much sooner, you know that?” he mumbled, gazing down at you tenderly with his beautiful brown eyes.

His lips went to your forehead, placing a loving smooch on your skin. His fingers continued lazily playing with strands of your hair, twirling them around his finger. You were nearly breathless, allowing your head to rest against the crook of his neck. It hadn’t taken him long to notice you had become jealous at Sara Snow... But why get jealous, when all he could possibly think about all day long was you?

“You know,” Jace continued, resting his chin on top of your head. He knew you had to go back to your home soon, but the least he wanted was for this moment to end. “I think I should get you jealous more often, somehow it makes you look prettier than you already are.” a proud smirk appeared on his lips at his own teasing, feeling you click your tongue as to dismiss his words, and you immediatly looked up at him; several chuckles escaping from Jacaerys at your reaction.

“You are such an idiot,” you began, helplessly smiling back at him. Your nails gently scraped his skin under his chin, slightly leaning to kiss his jaw. “But you’re lucky I adore you just like that.”

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