Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
𝖘ummary: wherein you get kicked out from a bar trying to defend your boyfriend and he takes care of you in the aftermath.
𝖜arnings: swearing, drinking, drunk texting, mentions of kissing, kissing, non-sexual nudity, reader is lwk a sloppy drunk in this one, reader wears makeup, mentions of violence, mentions of hangovers, angst, jace and reader are whipped for eachother, jace calls reader beautiful, gorgeous, and darling, fluffy ending!!!
𝖆uthor's note: a oneshot nobody asked for but i was watching an episode of b99 and thought of this idea (thanks peraltiago) lmk if i missed any tags pls THANK UUU (divider by the lovely @cursed-carmine)
Jace’s eyes narrowed on the clock that hung above him.
He’s been shamefully staring at it for two hours, watching the seconds tick by like little grating taunts as he sat at the kitchen counter patiently waiting for the pizza he ordered to arrive. The slick, summer air hung around his apartment like an unwanted house guest, the fan you bought specifically to beat the heat was working on over time. It has been since the beginning of summer, especially when Jace ran as hot as he did. You’d all just broken free from the shackles of finals, weeks of immense preparation, tears, redbulls, and late nights were finally over.
Which is why you were out with his cousins at this very moment, no doubt making friends with patrons minding their own business or obliterating people at pool while he stayed home, eager to spend the rest of the night watching last night’s football game eating stuffed-crust pizza with an egregious amount of pepperoni on top.
That is, if it would ever arrive.
He lazily rakes his face as his eyes traipse around your shared apartment, the absurd amount of magnets on the fridge from different countries you’ve never been to but have dreamed of traveling to ever since you started dating, the blue polka-dotted umbrella standing next to his plain one by the rack, the colorful flower-shaped mug that was left to dry by the sink. Evidence of you in his apartment never failed to put a sickeningly lovestruck grin on his face.
As childish as it may seem, he could look at a pile of your laundry on the floor and probably giggle.
He’s gotten enough shit from Luke as it is.
He was mindlessly scrolling on his feed to kill time when suddenly a text from you popped up before his eyes. When he opened your message, he got a glimpse of what he was in for for the rest of the night.
You
JAAAAAACE. I moss ypu SO MUCH.
Whatta handsome looking fella ypubare
:((
Rhe drinks hereeee are soo good they dont even taste like drinks
WHAT. No i meabn they tazte super gooddd
If I wss a frog with onee leg woulf you still kiss mr and gelp turn me back into a pribcess?
I miss joff and luke :(((
im not drunk btw!!! I RAN STRAUGHT LINES and i can still sibg the alpgabet backwards.
Jace couldn’t help but snort at what he was reading.
You
icansee you lurking.
Jace
hey beautiful, having fun?
You
YESSSS. SO MUCH FUN.
i missvyou :((
Jace
miss you moree
make sure you’re eating enough, yeah?
You
stpp im gunna cry
youre sobsweet
:((
imgunnakiss ypu later
Jace
im flattered gorgeous, really
say hi to baela and rhaena for me
You
OKAYY IBWILL!
A very long and loud voice message was sent next, consisting of intermittent pauses, giggles, and the sound of you and his cousins singing along to the tunes at the bar before it ended right before Rhaena could finish asking you whether or not you guys should order more shots. He doubted it was sent on purpose.
Ever since he introduced you to the rest of his family, they have become borderline obsessed with you. Jace had no problem believing it considering you were a joy to be around, you helped Luke with asking a girl he liked out, you helped Joffrey complete a 2000 piece lego set in just one day, and helped his mother plan for his 22nd birthday party. A perfectly concealed, perfectly executed surprise dinner with custom cocktails, his childhood favorite food, and banners with his achromatic, two year-old face strung on them all across the room.
Wars could be waged and won over who loved you more and he would lose. He didn’t mind the slightest.
Jace was brought out of his stupor by a knock on the door. He leapt from his spot on the couch, payment in hand, and ran to the door. He took the pizza box out of the pizza guy’s hands, paid him, thanked him, and shut the door, eager to devour the pizza in its entirety.
Soon, the football game was almost over- the King’s Landing Dragons were a point away from winning the entire match. But the same couldn’t be said for the pizza, he breezed through it long before his favorite player helped close the tie between their team and the rival team. But then, as he took a swig of beer, his phone rang. Jace picked it up and saw that it was your caller ID that flashed on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Jaceee,” You sang on the phone, the grin in your voice so evident he couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
“You doing okay over there?” He wonders, eyes still glued to the TV.
You hummed in response. “Doing sooooo fine,” you drawled out. “But Baela told me to call you cuz she can’t drive you home.”
You giggled.
“I mean drive me home! My bad.” You exclaimed before snorting in laughter. “Cuz she’s mean.”
And then, there was a tussle on your end of the call that sounded awfully like Baela snatching the phone from you. Jace waits patiently before another voice comes on.
“Jace?”
“Baela?” He asks, frowning. “What's wrong?”
“Why do you always assume something’s wrong?”
Jace raises an eyebrow as he slowly sits up on the couch. “I don’t know, when has a call from you while you’re with Rhaena and my girlfriend ever resulted in good news?”
“Okay, alright, I can see your point. But still, it’s incredibly offensive.”
“Baela.” Jace prompted.
“So funny story, the uhh- bar kicked us out.” Baela replied.
“HI JACE!” Another voice yelled out from the background. One that he presumed belonged to Rhaena.
“What? why?” He continued, his dark brows screwing together in both fear and confusion.
“A couple of guys from your major were talking shit about you.” Baela says plainly, her tone devoid of any lightness it had since the conversation began. “We were by the bar and we overheard. She poured her drink over one of the guys and threatened to stab another one of them in the eye with her heel after they called you and your brothers names... then Rhaena threw peanuts at them.”
Jace’s jaw slacked, the information forced to settle in his brain abruptly. He nodded, pressing his fingers into his eyes. “Is she okay? Are you guys okay?”
“Yeah, yeah we’re fine.” Baela answered with a sigh. “Listen, I wouldn’t call you if I could drive her home, I really wouldn’t. It's just that she doesn't want to get in the car, and she’s been talking about you nearly the entire night to anyone who’d listen-”
Jace is already standing up and shutting the TV off while simultaneously throwing on his jacket. “-Alright, alright. Just hang on yeah? I’ll be there in a bit.”
“Okay, take care.” Baela says.
“Could you put her on please?” He says before tripping over Vermax’s daybed, cursing under his breath.
Baela hummed. “Of course.”
“Hellooo?” You say after a beat.
“Hey beautiful,” Says Jace, running back to the coffee table to get the keys to your apartment. “I’m coming to get you, sit tight alright?”
“Really?” You wonder excitedly.
He shook his head in amusement as he jammed his feet into his shoes by the door, your own shoes that lay beside his toppled unceremoniously. “Yeah, I'll be ten minutes tops.“
“Okayyy, see you in ten minutes!” You tell him. “Love youuu.”
“I love you more,” he grinned, jogging down the hallway. “Bye.”
“Byeeee.”
And then the line fell silent as you ended the call. Jace rushed to the stairs instead of the elevator, taking two steps at a time before he reached his car. In no time he was maneuvering it outside of its parking spot and speeding down the street in hopes to get to you in under ten minutes- like he promised. Which would put him in a sticky situation because the drive was roughly 17 minutes long.
Jace tried to ignore the sound of his mother’s disapproving sigh reverberating throughout the back of his mind every time he sped past a red light, but when he arrived at the bar and saw you and his cousins waiting on the curb he felt less guilty about it.
“There he is!” Says Rhaena, pointing at Jace’s convertible before losing her balance and being caught by you and Baela before she could fall and eat concrete. You laughed at her as much as she laughed at her own actions as Baela sighed.
“Rhaena! Be careful, gods!”
“I’m like so careful… you be careful!”
“Alright, let’s… let’s keep each other safe. Hold my hand.”
“Okay.”
Jace turned his car off and stepped out. His eyes locked with Baela’s who stood beside you and Rhaena, still giggling to each other. “Hey,” says Jace.
“Hey,” Baela replied, throwing him a faint smile. “That was quick.”
“Didn’t feel like it.” He replied honestly before you practically launched yourself onto him, he stumbled at the impact but ultimately regained his footing, his arm snaking around your waist to steady you.
“You’re here!” You gasped, almost choking him.
“Yep, I'm here.” Jace laughed, breathing in your scent. “Didn’t take too long did I?”
“Noo, you were quick, super quick. Didn’t even notice.” You assured him, pulling away to look at him, even managing to fix his hair in your drunken state. “You didn’t brush your hair did you?”
“No,” he shook his head.
“Why?”
“Cuz I had to get here, to pick you up. Couldn’t keep you waiting can I?”
“I knew it,” you nodded, a coy smile slowly appearing on your lips. “you wanna take me home already cuz you looove me, you want to hug me, kiss me and date me-”
“Alright, i’ll take it from here.” Jace interjects, looking at Baela who tries to contain her laughter with a hand clasped over her mouth. “Thank you, really- for watching over her, you’re literally the best cousin ever.”
“Hey!” Rhaena whined, her eyes threatening to close as she leaned against Baela like a wilted stalk of celery. “Still here!”
“Come on, we best be on our way too.” Baela says, positioning her sister to stand upright before glancing back at Jace. “I’ll see you guys around campus?”
“Uh-huh,” Jace replies, opening the door to the passenger side of his car. “Goodnight, thank you, again.”
“Don’t mention it.” Baela smiled before she guided Rhaena to her car, parked just ways off the entrance to the bar.
Once Jace got you in your seat and buckled in, you guys were on the road in no time. He kept glancing at you every now and then to check if you were still awake or not dry-heaving, maybe a little too frequently. So much so that you managed to pick up on it more than halfway into your journey.
“You know you’re supposed to keep your eyes on the road and not me, right?” You muttered to him all of a sudden, catching him red-handed. "We're going to crash and maybe die.”
“I know,” Jace answered before turning on his blinker as he switched lanes.
You frowned. “Okay, but you’re looking at me more than the road.”
Jace nodded. “Yup.”
“Why?”
“Just making sure you’re not seconds away from passing out,” He smiled, glancing at you for a second. “And also just because."
“But I'm wide awake... and I feel like i've never been this awake in my life ever.” You answered, playing with the button that controlled the car window. "But if I fall asleep it's gunna be a really big problem."
"Exactly, because it means I'll have to carry you up three flights of stairs."
You giggled. “Yeah, cuz you looooove me.”
He only laughed in response.
As he turned to look at you properly now, he realized it was almost like your face was born to be illuminated by a dozen brake lights and warm street lamps, the ochres and vermillions in scattered rays across your face defining your features. You sighed then, as you looked up ahead.
“I’m not drunk, alright? You can stop looking at me.” You assure him, prodding his shoulder with your finger. “I promise.”
“I believe you.” Jace snorts, casting you a sidelong glance that makes you frown at him, groaning at his obvious lie.
“What?! I do, honest to the Gods! You’re as sober as Aegon gets on a Friday night after any minor inconvenience, I swear it, darling.”
“So you’re not mad?” You asked him sheepishly, carefully eyeing his expression as he made a u-turn.
It takes him a second to answer. A second too long.
“They were saying horrible things about you, I couldn’t let them get away with it-”
“What matters is that you’re alright.” Jace interjected softly, your defense dying on your tongue as you sat up properly. “I don’t give a shit about what they have to say about my family, much less me. I've heard it all my life.”
“You didn’t even answer the question.” You humphed. Another pause, the only sounds that could be heard were the amalgamation of cars honking, the whirring engine, and the faint melody of an indie rock song playing on the radio.
“A little.” He answered honestly. “But I’d like to believe that over time I learned not to let it affect me as much. I know who I am, I know I’m not like the things they say about me. In the long run, it's all inconsequential.”
“You should’ve heard them.” You insisted, folding your arms over your chest. The lilt in your voice is gone, Jace notices. “Laughing while they insulted you, thinking they’d get away with it.”
“Lucky you were there to defend my image then.”
“So lucky.”
You and Jace shared a quiet chuckle.
“I was mad.” You confessed after a moment’s pause, your head lolling back to the seat. “When they called you those names. I- It was like… there were bees in my head, drowning out the noise of the bar. All I could feel… all I could think about was the fact that they needed to know how wrong they were. About you.”
Jace looked at you earnestly, his gaze softening.
“Because I know you, I know you inside out. I know you better than anybody in King’s Landing. I couldn’t let them go on about their day thinking they can spread these lies about you and not get away with it. I couldn’t.” you continued quietly, still looking straight into his eyes as he slowed to a stop in front of your apartment.
He knew you weren’t exaggerating, despite being as inebriated as you are, you were telling the truth. Even while your speech slurred and your eyes turned glassy from both fervent emotion and tiredness, he knew you were telling him the truth. Jace believed you, and slowly a surge of melancholy grabs hold of his throat before he is made aware of it; tightening and tightening as he listens to you talk– every word professed served as a reminder of why exactly he loved you as much as he did.
“You aren’t entitled- you’re the most hardworking person i’ve ever met.” You say, shaking your head. “You aren’t selfish either… or proud, or conceited. They could never measure up to the man you are now, not even if they try their hardest.” You declared, voice rising to a decibel that nearly made Jace flinch. But he didn’t mind, he didn’t let it show.
“Thank you.” Jace replies, not wasting a second more. “For defending me.”
“Of course.” You answered, beaming at him as he grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckle. “I always will, even if it means I have to deck somebody in the face.”
“Or threaten to stab somebody in the eye with your heel?”
“That too.” You add, making him laugh through his nose. “I won’t ever let anybody talk about you like that. Because wh- who are they to talk about you like they’ve known you for the last five years of your life? They weren’t held by you when they flunked their final paper while they cried for hours, they weren’t caught in a downpour on the way home from Dragonstone and had to take shelter in a bait and tackle shop with you, they didn’t spend three days with you in the hospital after they got food poisoning which almost made you miss your baby brother’s birthday party.”
“You’re making me sound like some saint.”
You shook your head at him in utter dissent before reaching out to cup his jaw. “I’m not praising you because you’re my boyfriend, I'm praising you because you’re one of the kindest, selfless, and compassionate people I know.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Then it takes one to know one.” Jace replied, resolute. “I’m not saying I tolerate violence but nobody’s ever stood up for me like that before, much less my drunk girlfriend on a night out with my cousins.”
“I know,” You nodded, grinning alongside him. “And she’d do it a thousand times over if it meant that you’ll always feel like someone’s got your back.”
For another moment, neither of you said anything, quietly revelling in the words that were shared, allowing their profound weight to settle within you.
“Gods,” Jace began. “what did I do to deserve you?”
“I don’t know,” You managed before yawning. “Maybe you were a valiant prince that sacrificed himself for the sake of his kingdom in another life.”
Jace laughed another time, the way his upturned lips formed a triangle as he turned to look ahead of you, his shoulders jerking up and down. “That’s ridiculous, darling.”
“What?!? It's a possibility!”
“There’s no way.” He said turning to look away and then turning back at you with an accusatory look and a smile that reached ear to ear. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“Come off it.”
“I’m serious.” You say, shooting him a lopsided smile. “You have to believe me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Sure, whatever.”
You laughed in victory.
The journey up to your apartment wasn’t a pretty sight, not when you tripped over air and stumbled on the steps so many times that Jace had to carry you on his back the rest of the way. The sounds of you telling him to be a better horse as he shushed you filled the halls. Eventually when he got to your apartment, he fumbled with the keys twice before carrying you in and dropping you on the couch.
“Where’s Vermax?” You wondered, frowning at the empty dog bed that lay by the coffee table, the dirty sock monkey the dog favored lay face down, motionless.
“He’s at Mum’s remember? At the Red Keep Estate,” He answers you, filling a glass of water. “It's just until finals are over.”
“Oh, right.” You murmured before sitting up to take the glass of water and downing it in three gulps.
You then expressed your interest in going to the bathroom in order to freshen up and Jace ran after you before you could body slam into the bathroom door, furious that the door handle wouldn’t open for you, claiming it had purposefully barred you from entering. Turns out it was just locked. He helped you remove your makeup and nearly squirted micellar water into your nose. You brushed your teeth and then he then helped you remove your clothes and get into the shower which then led to a ten-minute conversation about how utterly devastating it was that his grandfather’s second wife and his mother used to be best friends before he remarried and turned her into a trad-wife that routinely reposts facebook posts about the faith of the seven.
He was convinced you shed a tear somewhere in between calling his grandfather a sick bastard and ranting about how Alicent and Rhaenyra should’ve ran away and boarded a ferry that sailed to Essos.
When you were done showering, he helped you into your pajamas and tucked you in. He then crawled into bed beside you as you stared at the glimmering city of King’s Landing outside, its tall buildings, rolling hills, and busy streets entranced you.
“You asleep yet?” He asked, plugging his charger into his phone. It lit up, depicting a picture of the both of you inside a photobooth grinning candidly before it faded to black again.
“No,” You mumbled. “About to though.”
“Don’t fight it, go to sleep. You’ve had a long day today.”
“I’m not fighting it.”
“Yes you are, you’re fighting it because you still want to talk to me.” Jace noted, making you roll your eyes. It didn’t make it any less untrue.
“1 hour lunch breaks aren’t enough.” You insisted, watching him turn around to face you. “Sue me.”
“We live together.”
You grinned cheekily. “Still not enough.”
“You’re impossibly stubborn.” He intoned in disbelief.
“Yeah, but you like me.” You teased, a childish giggle erupting from you as he grinned, trying to hide the fact that he blushed.
He nodded along. “Gods, who told you?”
“I knew it ever since you went with me on that Haunted Maze ride during sophomore year, you were so terrified I think you were about to piss your pants-”
“-Okay that is not what happened,” He declared almost scandalized. “And also I liked you way before that, at Oscar Tully’s halloween rager, freshman year. I was too scared to ask you out.”
Your jaw dropped, but you didn’t move from your spot. “You and Cregan went as Anakin and Obi-Wan. Oh my gods! I remember now! ” you exclaimed.
“Yeah,” he snorted. “You were hanging out with one of your friends that majors in Fine Arts. I saw you from across the room and all I could really think about was that your smile was so pretty and your costume was witty and sort of genius.”
“Awwww,” You crooned. “That’s disgustingly adorable.”
“I know, I know. I’m whipped.” He admitted shamelessly, gazing into your eyes so tenderly it almost made you melt, even now with a mixture of alcohol flooding your system. A very familiar warmth spreads throughout your limbs and face, not from the alcohol but from Jace.
“So whipped.” You emphasized before yawning.
His tongue checks in his mouth. “Go to sleep, already.”
“You go to sleep.” You protest in return.
“Close your eyes.” Jace insisted, reaching out to cover your eyes before you swatted his arm away from your face. “You’ll be complaining about not getting enough sleep and that your hangover's a thousand times worse because of it and you’ll blame me for not making you sleep earlier.”
“I’m not getting a hangover because I'm really not drunk. We’ve been over this, Jace.” You sighed. “For a political science major you can be daft sometimes.”
Now it was him that yawned. “I’ll choose to ignore that because it is way too early in the morning for me to defend my course.”
“See!” You scowled playfully at him. “You bluetoothed your sleepiness to me.”
“Nice try, but I don’t think that’s a thing, beautiful.”
You giggle as you turn around, facing the wall of your bedroom as one of his hands snake around your waist pulling you closer to him in his embrace. A moment of silence settles easily into the marrow of the air that smelt like fresh laundry and lavender, the rest of the world seeming so far away, so out of touch.
“Thank you, for taking care of me.” You tell him quietly, suddenly, it caught Jace by surprise.
“I like taking care of you, I’ll always take care of you.” He answered with a voice equally as quiet, equally as sincere.
“Even if it becomes rotten work?”
“Not even then.” He answered earnestly as he placed a soft kiss on your temple. “Especially not then.”
It wasn’t long before you fell asleep with Jace following you soon after, arms caging you in a warm embrace that you’d both find yourselves entrapped in until sunlight painted your room in soft amber hues the following morning.
You defended him and he took care of you. Your love couldn’t possibly be measured by those three words alone, but by the way you stood up for each other, moved by faith and devotion over the years you’ve known the other. It transcended words. Even when it needed one of you to bare some teeth or bleed dry for the other, you’d do it. And that was all that mattered.
jacaerys x fem!tyrell!reader (aegon x reader and aemond x reader )
summary: you find out the truth about aegon.
warnings/notes: n/a
wordcount: 3.1k
jace taglist: @youngunicorn16 @diorsvnz @bri544dggt @zanygot7straykidsbonk @emilly-adopted-mcmann @charlottelaffin @suniika @princessofthereach @twilightzone24 @ghizlana @ackerman0-0 @viserraslawyer @yohanseyebrowmole @fairyjuhak22 @hotdhoe @chimmysoftpaws @francislovergirl (this taglist is from a while ago, if any of you want to be removed, let me know! 🩷)
Helaena’s room was a little frightening at first. There were drawings on the wall, ones with dragons in chalky green paint, a woman in the nude, standing with her arms raised. When you asked her what inspired the decorations, she said, “These are my dreams.” You did not know what seemed stranger: the decorations themselves, or the fact that she did not elaborate more.
Nonetheless, you got along nicely with her. She introduced you to her bugs which she kept around the room: Crickets, spiders, beetles. You were both embroidering and enjoying threading the needle through the fabric again and again. Neither of you spoke, but you did not mind. You were working on an iris, a blue one. The next one would be white, and the one after it, pink. The princess was embroidering a dragonfly, which you were excited to see the finished product of.
But then Helaena said something. “Three dragons,” she whispered. The sound of it was like wind, imperceptible.
“What?” you said. The needle was halfway through the fabric.
“She will have three dragons,” Helaena began again. There was a haunted look in her eyes, the violet of them hiding something. Was she trying to confess something to you, something that she had seen? “Two will try to breathe fire upon her…”
It was what she was saying the day you met her. But why was she saying it again? And what did it mean?
There was stillness in the air. “Helaena, what are you saying?” you inquired.
A cricket chirped at the table.
Helaena dug the needle into the fabric, and her eyes were not even looking at it. They were looking behind you, beyond you. The needle had punctured the middle of the dragonfly, and it felt like your heart had been crushed.
You feared the worst. You leaned in, trying to capture the princess’s attention. “Has someone hurt you?”
There was a dead look in her eyes, as if she could not hear you at all. “Nothing has happened. Not yet.”
And then she continued her handiwork like she had not said anything at all.
What has not happened yet?
The strange tension in the air was indecipherable. By the windows, you could see the dust floating and dancing, illuminated by the golden sun. A morning dove cooed.
In the distance, there were footsteps. Then, a loud bang, and the door opened.
You startled at the noise, but then you realized that it was only Prince Aegon.
“Lady Tyrell! Join me for a midday meal, with House Beesbury.”
You smiled. As a neighbor to Honeyholt, you’d made their acquaintance before, so meeting them for a meal was not nerve-wracking.
You looked at Helaena. “Might the princess join us as well?”
“Why not,” Prince Aegon said with a shrug.
“No flower book today, my lady?” Prince Aegon asked.
You did not know why, but you flushed at this. “Not today, no. I’ve been embroidering with Helaena.”
“Very nice,” Aegon replied, but he said it so lightly that it seemed like he did not care at all.
What are women but a load of useless skills? You remembered him saying just last night. When you continued walking down the hall, these thoughts washed out of your head.
Food was served in the courtyard. The Crown Prince was there too, along with Prince Lucerys, Joffrey, Viserys II and Aegon III but at a separate table. You tried to find the Crown Prince’s face, but you could not. Was there truly to be no contact between the two Targaryen families?
Prince Aegon did not push out a chair for you, nor did he direct any of the servants to do so. Lady Beesbury was there in her gold and black attire. “Goodness, how you have grown,” Lady Beesbury said when she saw you.
“I have,” you said. “When did you last come to Highgarden?”
“Four years past, I believe. I would recognize you anytime, comely as you are.”
“Yes, she is quite pretty, isn’t she?” Aegon said, a hint of a laugh in his voice.
Although you blushed, you could not tell whether the prince was being honest. His smile stretched too wide and his gaze lingered too long.
“I hope you have found a home here, in the keep. Queen Rhaenyra certainly knows how to throw quite the feast, doesn’t she?”
You nodded.
“More cake,” Lady Beesbury said. “I swear, the handmaidens have been so sparse since Dyana left.”
“Why did she leave?” you asked.
“I don’t know,” she said.
Just then, someone bumped into your chair and it made a squeaking noise across the floor.
You looked beside you; Prince Joffery was grinning mischievously. “Do you want to see the dragon sculptures?” he asked.
Prince Aegon looked like he was in the middle of a conversation with Lady Beesbury, although he looked more into the conversation than she. He held his goblet of arbor red in his hand, drumming his fingers against the glass.
Then, someone tugged on your arm. It was Prince Aegon III, with Viserys II and Joffery beside him. Wasn’t there someone to look after them, to see that they were behaving? You looked at the Crown Prince, who was talking to Prince Lucerys. Out of the corner of your eye, Prince Aegon II jumped up and down. You shrugged to yourself. It was not the Crown Prince’s duty to see to his brothers, nor were they bothering you, exactly.
You leaned closer to the toddlers. “The sculptures?” you asked, with a raise of your brow.
The three of them nodded. Very well, then.
“Excuse me,” you said to Prince Aegon, though you were not sure if he heard you; he was speaking to Lord Beesbury now, still holding his goblet.
As soon as you stood up, the little toddlers started chasing you. You giggled, your dress swaying behind you in a swish of light blue fabric as you left the courtyard. “Oh, dear…” Lady Beesbury said faintly. Whatever reaction the others had, you could not hear. The only sound in your ears now were from three sets of tiny footsteps behind you.
“Downstairs!” Prince Joffery said.
You followed the prince’s command and swept yourself down the stairs.
It was darker here than anywhere else you had been in the keep, the red stone looking almost grey.
You were not sure what to look for. At first, you expected to see a big statue, like the real dragon skulls in the throne room. But you looked around and the hallway was only full of handmaidens, cooks, and servants. You weren’t sure if you were even supposed to be there.
“It’s near the kitchens,” Prince Joffery said, and the younger blonde boys followed his lead. He turned the corner, and then the scent of food and cooking and fire met your nose. There was an archway to the kitchens.
And then you saw what Prince Joffery was talking about. There were two dragons engraved on the sconces, their mouths breathing the fire in the candlesticks to life. But they were misshapen, the slope of the mouths crooked… and neither of them had eyes. The defects must have either been from the stone masons or from age. As you stepped forward, you noticed a third dragon. This one did not look deformed, but its candles were unlit so you could not see the full face of it.
She will have three dragons, you remember Princess Helaena saying at dinner that night.
You looked down at the boys, and then you saw the little princes looking up at you, eager to be picked up so they could have a closer look. You picked up Prince Aegon the Younger and then Prince Viserys next. You enjoyed the youthful stare, eyes so big and yet to grow into their faces. When you put Viserys down, you looked at Joffery. “I’m sorry, I think you are much too big for me to carry you.”
“Okay…” Prince Joffrey said, looking down.
Prince Aegon and Prince Viserys whispered to each other, and then took off up the steps. Prince Joffery looked at you.
“Go, run, join your brothers. I will be up shortly.”
You were left alone then. Nothing but the sound of servants moving about. The kitchens, though. There was something coming from the kitchens. Voices.
You peered through the archway, which gave a view of the space: surfaces, fires, basins, ovens, caldrons. But there were also two people standing quite still. And… crying.
A voice spoke. “Shhh. shhh… tell me again, girl. What happened?”
Gods, it was so dark in here, you could hardly make out their figures. When you looked closer, you saw that the two people were an older plump woman and a girl your age.
“It was during the changing of the shifts,” the girl said. “There were so many dark corners in this place, I don’t think anyone…. anyone saw. The Queen… Will I have to tell her? And the Dowager Queen, she would want to protect her son. Would she believe me? Did she really believe Dyana?”
Dyana… where had you heard that name before? It was recent, not in the Reach. In your mind, you passed over the day’s events, until you realized. It had just not been ten minutes ago. Dyana was the handmaiden that Lady Beesbury had mentioned. But what did either of these girls have to do with the prince?
“It is good that he will not be the king,” the older woman said. “Who knows how many he would sully if he were. And without your wanting to.”
Your hand shot to your mouth. You rounded the corner, making sure that they could not see you or hear your muffled gasp. Although your nose was not covered, you could barely breathe. You took off up the steps, your footsteps as quiet as your gasp.
By the time you arrived at the Godswood, you were breathless. There were no tears in your eyes; they were dry, and the pit in your heart, in your stomach, you could feel more deeply. The weirwood tree was magnificent with leaves that spanned outwards. It was the gods that lived within these trees, before most of them were cut down by Aegon the Conqueror. But you saw the gods in the air now.
It was quiet. You were free to think… think of all the wrongs your betrothed had done. Dyana, the serving girl that you saw just now… how many others? Would he do the same to you? Before you were betrothed, you imagined your first coupling with a lord from the Reach, the Vale, or some other kingdom. You prayed to the gods that he would be gentle when he bedded you. But perhaps… Perhaps that would not be possible now.
You stood at the roots of the Godswood, closed your eyes, and prayed. You prayed for this summer to be a long one, and for the Reach to provide plenty of harvest when the time comes. And… and for Prince Aegon not to hurt you.
A voice broke through your prayers.
“I suppose I should thank you. For attending to my brothers.”
You turned around, gasping in shock. Though this was a public place within the keep, you expected no interruptions. Prince Jacaerys walked through the Godswood to you with ease. This, the fact that it was him and no other, made you relax a little. For what reason, you were not sure.
“I’m sorry if they caused you any trouble,” Jacaerys said. “You did not have to partake in their schemes. They can be… untamed.”
“What beasts men can be,” was all you had to say. A crooked, pained smile lined your lips. You thought of what Aegon did to the serving girls, what dark corners he pulled them into. Would you be shrouded in the same darkness, unable to ask for help, to seek justice?
“My lady?” Jacaerys tilted his head and frowned as he stood at the base of the tree. “I will speak to my brothers if they are—”
“No!”
He startled a little bit, but seemed to regain his composure with a straightening of his posture and a hand placed on the pommel of his sword. “Shall I walk you back to Aegon?”
“No, I— I am not feeling well.”
He nodded, but at the encroaching silence, he spoke again. “Is anything else amiss?”
He is beautiful, you thought, but shook yourself of it quickly. It was not he that you were betrothed to.
You shook your head. “No, no.” There was a waver in your voice. You found that you could not look at him, not directly, so you looked at the exterior wall behind him, the lovely blue mural that was painted upon it.
Jacaerys did not seem entirely convinced. “Are you certain?”
“I… I am fine.” You clasped your hands together, but there was a twitch on your palm, something you prayed he could not see.
He stepped closer until there was only two feet between you. Even with being here for a few days, his features were still surprising. He could not possibly be so comely as at first glance, but as you looked at him more, you were proved wrong. His eyes, nose, and mouth were in complete harmony with each other. From the front as you stood right now, his nose looked almost adorably small. But from last night, you remembered that from the side, the profile of his nose extended outward and curved down, framing the rest of his face. He had a manner to him, something graceful and sensitive. Jacaerys shook his head slowly, jaw set, silent.
Very well then. You drew in a shaky breath. Please, let him not be angry with me, you prayed, but you did not know if you meant Jacaerys or Aegon, or perhaps both. “He violated them.”
“Who? And to whom?”
“Aegon,” you said, and as his eyes widened, you specified. “The queen dowager’s son, not your brother. He… the serving girls…” You bit your cheek, shame seeping into your blood. Was it a sin to confess to something only few people knew?
Jacaerys blinked rapidly. His curls stayed fixed, but there was something akin to sadness washing over his face. Then he spoke. “I did not know this, I swear it.”
You nodded and looked down. There was only one choice of what to do with yourself. You gathered your skirts to move past him. “I must go.”
Jacaerys’s hand touched your arm, ever so gently. That was enough to get you to stop in place. “Go… go where?”
You looked him in the eye, and saw his shocked and pleading look.
“Home,” you said. “If I stay, I will only cause trouble.” The root you were standing on was steady. The heel of your shoe was on the grass, whereas the body and toe of the shoe was on the grey root.
“My mother will give you a place at court. You will be comfortable.” The pleading look did not diminish. In fact, it only seemed to grow stronger.
You sighed. “So mayhaps I should stay,” you said hollowly.
Jacaerys shook his head. “I did not mean to coerce you. Is that what you want?”
“I do not know, my Prince. This has all come to me so suddenly.”
“For the time being, then, I will order another guard to stand outside your chambers at all hours. He will not enter.”
“There are already guards in the halls, it is not necessary. I can protect myself, Jace.” You remembered his mother and brothers using the nickname yesterday; it had slipped out of your mouth.
“Yes, but as the Crown Prince of the Realm, it is my duty to provide protection for all my subjects. That, at least, I hope you can understand.”
Denying such a protection was foolish. “Another guard may, in fact, be sound.”
“There is something else,” the Crown Prince said. “He is known to be absent at night.”
You narrowed your eyes and shifted in place. “Absent how?”
“He goes to the Street of Silk. Once, when we were younger, he tried to get Luke and I to come with him. I refused.”
Your eyes widened. “And you did not tell me this why?”
“I thought,” he said quickly, “that it would cease when he was betrothed, when he wed, but after learning of his other doings, I cannot say for certain.”
Your shoulders slumped.
Jacaerys’s expression softened, eyes gentling.“I promise I will call for a guard.”
“I know,” you said, meeting his eyes.
That night, you locked your door. You did not shake, nor could you feel yourself breathe. You felt… calm for some reason, as calm as you had when you walked through the gardens and looked at the flowers. Behind the door was a guard; Jacaerys had not lied. Ser Erryk explained to you that he did not know why Jacaerys asked for him to be there, but it was the Crown Prince’s command, so he must obey it. You thanked the knight and retreated to your chambers.
It was three hours later when you woke.
Thankfully, the filigree windows and the linen curtains did not allow much light in. The crickets chirped outside. The blankets were twisted around your ankles, so you pulled them up onto your chest. You wanted to go back to bed, but there was something telling you to stay awake.
It was a voice.
“My ladyyyyyyy. Open up. I plan to see you. Or, planned. Even before I got… drunk….”
That one you knew well. Footsteps, then the sound of someone falling. There was a thud against the door. A click of the door handle… to no avail. You could imagine him on the other side of that door, thinking to himself that he was perfectly harmless.
You pulled the covers back and sprung up. Was Prince Aegon trying to enter your room? Where was Ser Erryk? You had locked the door. You had locked it.
In an instant, rushed over to the door and pressed against it. As if that would help! You shook your head to yourself. He would not break in. He would not.
Then there was a second voice.
“My prince, you must rest.”
You breathed a sigh of relief. It was the voice of Ser Erryk.
“The lady is sleeping,” he continued, “you mustn't bother her now. Tomorrow…”
Then there was another thud of something metal, a goblet, perhaps, and then the voices faded away.
As soon as everything was quiet, you walked over to the side table where you kept the silver moonstone necklace. You noticed the chill in the air, but the temperature only lured you toward the windows, carrying the chain in your hands. You parted the linen curtains to get a full look at the city. You believed you could tell which street was the Street of Silk. Was that where Aegon went tonight, only an hour ago? You did not have time for answers, and the only thing to do now was to reach your palm out. And release the necklace into the air.
jacaerys x fem!tyrell!reader (aegon x reader and aemond x reader )
summary: queen rhaenyra targaryen throws a feast.
warnings/notes: who's a slower writer, me or grrm? anyway, happy hotd release day! this fic is gonna get me through these next jace-less weeks... his death is going to shatter me. but here he lives! smut alluded.
wordcount: 2.5k
Your stomach grumbled. It had only passed the ninth hour of the day, and yet you were famished. You were to meet Prince Aegon in the gardens to break your fast. In the evening, there was to be a feast, so this morning’s activity relieved you; you had something to do with yourself besides wait for the night’s festivities. In the garden, no less.
Eager to see what beauty lay there, your grip tightened on your gold pendant around your neck, and then your steps quickened. As soon as you stepped outside, your breath escaped from your lungs.
The gardens were beautiful. Pink, orange, and red roses spotted the bushes. Lilacs spiraled around their branches. The lady’s lace, with its delicate structure, looked as if it were floating among the rest of the vegetation. You smiled as you saw a saffron crocus, not yet wilted, hidden among the leaves. There were many more flowers in the distance which you recognized.
The pavilion was at the far end. A servant was there and gestured to your seat at the table. “Thank you,” you said to him. There were some lords and ladies of the court on the pathways already. Their chatter added to the already-soothing ambience of the garden… the sight of the flowers, and the call of the morning doves so high above.
On the table, there were plates of biscuits, apple and honey cakes, a bowl of oats, strawberries, cheese, and bacon. How much of this had come from the Reach? The food looked familiar to you—you only knew so much about how it was prepared—though there was an oddness to it. You were not with your family or friends, nor did you have your own gardens to retreat to after you were finished.
You looked around. The garden beds were coated in sunlight, and in front of you, the waters of the Blackwater Bay stretched out, a wondrous plane of blue. Wonderful though it was, wasn’t Prince Aegon supposed to be here by now? It would be odd to start eating before he arrived.
You stood up. Surely you could take a walk around the pathways before he got here?
As you walked to the rosebush, you touched your own gold rose pendant, feeling the nooks and crannies of each petal. You reached out to touch the real rose, a delicate orange one. An intense blush colored your features. Your mother had once told you that, if your husband was a good one, he would touch you in a similar way.
“Lady Tyrell.”
You turned around. It was Prince Jacaerys. He walked holding the pommel of his sword, his waves of hair swaying ever so slightly.
“My Prince,” you said, curtsying.
He nodded at you, though he looked uncomfortable. For what reason, you did not know; you were only obeying common courtesy. “You wait for Aegon?”
You nodded.
“He will come,” Jacaerys said. “Though I am sorry your handmaidens did not warn you… you could have had twenty extra minutes of sleep.”
You laughed, and noticed how Jacaerys’s own face turned into a small smile. “It does not matter. I like to see the flowers,” you gestured toward the garden.
He nodded. “Which is your favorite?”
“I do love the cyclamen, the pink… it is beautiful. But it means goodbye, which I do not like. I like irises, because they come in so many colors.”
Jacaerys hummed. “I suppose the gardens here stand meager after living in Highgarden all your life,” he said. He reached his hand out and against one of the rose petals, and then dipped his hand down to brush his thumb against a thorn. He had freckles centered on his nose and across his cheeks, ones that you were only able to notice up close.
“Not at all. You have the sea, and we do not. And I find that it is not always about the garden or the flowers themselves, but the company they bring.”
“That is a sound view of things.”
You looked up at him. Though he was shorter than Prince Aegon, he was still about a few inches taller than you. “Is it?” you asked, a lightness to your voice.
The Crown Prince opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but then closed it, staying silent.
“Nephew!”
The call came from across the garden. You looked around and saw Aegon, who walked toward you.
“This is the closest you’ve been to a woman, is it not?” Prince Aegon chuckled.
You looked at Jacaerys with an apologetic smile, as if Aegon’s comment was yours to feel shame for.
“Let me take her,” Prince Aegon said.
Prince Jacaerys nodded, though it was curt. “My lady,” he said, and turned away.
You watched as his form became smaller and smaller as he walked away from you. His hair at the back of his neck was tucked into his collar. There was something endearing about it… You wished, in the back of your mind, how you wanted him to stay for the rest of the day.
Why were you having these thoughts? You were betrothed to another man, another prince all the same.
Aegon stepped closer and bent his head towards your ear and whispered, “The training yard awaits so he can become strong, like his name, in truth.”
“My Prince,” you said, “What does that mean?”
“Surely you know. Just look at him and his brothers. I’m sure you're smart enough to figure it out.”
Ah. You laughed, albeit nervously. You knew of the rumors that circled him. Did it weigh upon him? You did not want to breach the subject, to bring it up first. Sometimes saying that you were sorry for what you perceived to be a tragedy in someone’s life ended in you being told that it was nothing to be sorry for.
Aegon took you to a bench in the shade, an arbor tree obstructing the sunlight. There was birdsong. He was now telling you a story, talking a mile a minute, sloshing a drink in his hand.
“Anyhow—” he said, reaching into his pocket. The thing he pulled out was shiny and silver, that much you knew from how much the sun’s light contracted with the metal. “Yesterday I meant to give this to you.”
Your golden rose necklace, an heirloom from your great-grandmother, felt heavy around your neck.
“Let me see,” Prince Aegon said, handing the necklace to you. “Put it on. I picked it out from the jeweler’s this morning… I would never leave a lady waiting for less.”
It was a silver festoon necklace, a style quite popular in the capital, you thought, as you looked around you. There were several ladies walking around the gardens with similar jewels. The moonstones shone brilliantly, but all the same, there was something cold to the touch as you brushed your fingers against them.
“It is beautiful,” you said, as each tiny pendant swung back and forth to no end. Hesitantly, you unclasped your gold necklace and put your new one on.
“See, I knew that silver would suit you better.”
You chuckled, feeling each moonstone sway on your skin. “It does indeed, my Prince.”
The feast had dancing.
You were alerted that this would be the last day to see Baela and Rhaena, so you were with them now. They were to depart for a few moons after today to go to Driftmark with Lord Corlys. It was a pity… Baela seemed skilled at the crossbow and at riding her dragon, and Rhaena, you guessed, was shy at both.
The throne room had tables upon tables along the perimeter of the room. Food lay on the table— roasted ham, duck, potatoes, applecakes, cheese, whiskerfish, and pigeon pie. It was so much that it almost scared you to think of what food there would be at the wedding. Candlelight lit up the room, on these tables, on the floor in their candelabras, and above you, in the chandeliers.
It was a little nerve-wracking, this feast, for it was a betrothal celebration. Which meant it rested on your shoulders. With the golden rose necklace around your neck, you were in the center of the room now, where there was space for dancing, with Prince Aegon. He was graceful, if a little quick, taking you from one corner of the room to the next. He was a bit of a candle himself. He flickered from one corner of the room to the next, with his green-pointed shoes, and you had to follow him. You spent almost as much time looking at the floor as him, your eyes downcast completely, at the powdery, aged red stone beneath your feet.
Your mind was always occupied, trying to determine where he would go next. When you and him were at one corner of the room, you caught a glimpse of the Crown Prince. Even though he had dark hair, his demeanor was not sullen as you expected it to be. He had a pleasant face, though sometimes brooding, was often neutralized by the upturn of his lips at the music, or a wrong step of either himself or the lady. What if that lady was you…just once?
“This is a lonely song, isn’t it, my lady?”
“What?” you said, the sound of the drums only now registering to your ears.
“It is only one melody. I should ask them to change it…”
“No,” you said, but he was already off, leaving you on the dance floor. You watched him as he stopped at a table where a server was holding a flagon of wine. Good, you thought to yourself. He had already distracted himself so he was not actually going to ask to change the song. Next to him was Prince Aemond, who whispered something to him. What were they talking about, you wondered. When Aemond finished whispering, his eyes found yours immediately. You startled and felt your cheeks flush.
The drums, you realized, had stopped. The flute sounded through the air like those morning doves you heard earlier. With such music, you wanted to move along with the instruments: the flute, the harp, the reed pipes. But with whom?
A man stepped forward. It was Prince Jacaerys.
“For a turn?” he asked, holding his hand out.
The other lords and ladies regrouped in partners.
Your body stepped closer to his. Did it really have to be this close to dance? You could see the shadows on the side of his neck, how his collar almost touched his jaw. He seemed to have no trouble setting his eyes upon you. But this was not the same for you. When your gaze met his, the color of his eyes— were they brown or green?— overwhelmed you, and his eyelashes, which branched out delicately.
You nodded and took his hand.
The music filled your heart with excitement. Prince Jacaerys moved side by side with you. He knew how to dance well. You always thought that dancing was a test for how much someone respected the opposite sex. His hand would guide you as he was leading, but then he would pause to see what you would do next, giving you space to do as you wished with your body.
You raised your arms at the same time he did. He wore a smile on his face, and not a watchful one. More… unaware. You did a little twirl, in which you felt the music gather in your lungs. It was only when your dress settled at your sides that you realized you were smiling, too. And an unaware one at that.
Jacaerys’s hands took you and spun you around. You were floating. For a second, you could see everyone in the room at once. Their faces, their hair, their headpieces. A couple at one of the tables was sharing soup; some friends were twirling around; two men, in middle age, were whispering to each other at the far end of the room. This, you imagined, was what it was like to be a dragon.. A sense of elation bubbled within you, and a laugh carried out of your throat.
You caught Prince Jacaerys’s eyes and noticed he was smiling, too, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Even with the loud bass of the drums, the overwhelming sound of the fiddle, you could still hear his laughter.
The music stopped.
You sighed happily, the buzz in your veins quieting.
The air felt tight.
He was looking at you differently— with concern in his eyes, knitting his eyebrows together. “My lady,” he said, gesturing at your bodice.
Your stomacher was crooked. The pins must have fallen out of place while dancing. You could imagine them hitting the floor one by one, lost in the sea of hems and dancing feet. Frantic, your hands held the stomacher up, which you tried to adjust. To no avail. It stayed as it was, lopsided.
The others on the dance floor were already dancing to the next song. A man, (drunk, probably) almost bumped into you, but you were able to duck out of the way.
Your hands fell to your sides then. “Perhaps I shall leave early— where is Prince Aegon? My betrothed…” You looked around— he was not on the floor or the nearby tables, as far as you could tell— and you had to stand on your tiptoes to see beyond.
“Nonsense,” Prince Jacaerys said. Then, he reached toward his own shoulder and pulled a few pins from his cloak, which left it to dangle from his body awkwardly.
“Here,” he said, holding out two embellished pins.
I couldn’t, you were about to say, before you remembered that refusing an offer from the Crown Prince was frowned upon. So you took them without protest.
You stuck them into place. “Thank you.” Absent-mindedly, you touched your pendent. Tomorrow you would go back to wearing the silver, the necklace that Aegon gifted you, but tonight, you made sure that everyone saw you as a Tyrell.
Jacaerys spoke then. “If my opinion is worth anything, the gold does indeed suit you.”
“Thank you, my prince,” you responded, your voice shy.
After the feast, you were in a hallway in Maegor’s Holdfast on the way to bed, when you heard a familiar animated voice.
“Well, what are women but a load of useless skills?”
You crept toward the door where the voices were coming from. It was from Prince Aegon’s chambers; him and his friend were gathered on the seats by the fireplace.
“Yes, she is pretty enough, but… a Tyrell, really?” Aegon continued. He took a swig from his goblet.
“What, you wanted to marry a Lannister?” another voice said. “Blonde for blonde?” There was laughter, but none from you. Your throat went dry.
Prince Aegon drummed his fingers on the chair arm.“My mother chose her for me. She’s clearly biased, she is from the Reach. The Lannisters have gold, at least. The Tyrells have… flowers and crops.”
“Crops and the most fertile land in the Seven Kingdoms!” his friend exclaimed.
“Well, I hope that she is as fertile as her land.”
“You’ll make sure to know for sure.” the friend said.
You scowled in the dark corner of the hallway; Your heart was beating fast. Yes, it was because you were overhearing a conversation that you were not supposed to be privy to, but also because of another thing: a greater danger lay in your future: Being unloved.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
aegon x fem!tyrell!reader (aemond x fem!tyrell!reader and jacaerys x fem!tyrell!reader)
summary: under the reign of queen rhaenyra targaryen, you, lady tyrell, are betrothed to prince aegon targaryen.
warnings/notes: sooo this is a jacaerys x reader fic in disguise! no dance of dragons, smut alluded. reader has hair ect. but no specific descriptors given to her. i am tagging both aegon and aemond in this, since it is technically. but this is probably NOT for the aegon or aemond girls (gn) because they are/will be douches.
wordcount: 2.4k
Your carriage stopped at the Red Keep’s gates. The trip had been a little less than a month. From the Reach, your carriage followed the river Mander, flowing into the streams of Blueburn and Cockleswhent. Although it was a tiring journey, you enjoyed how the landscape rolled across the horizon, with the constant glimmer of the water. There were even some flowers along the way. Within your journal, your small paint set made the colors come alive. You were eager to see what kind of color existed in King’s Landing. What flowers were in the garden’s beds? Would they be as plentiful as in Highgarden?
You would soon find out. Now that the journey was complete, you stepped out onto the streets of the city.
The waters were thick at Blackwater Bay. The Red Keep was tall, a mountain itself atop Aegon’s High Hill. In the distance, you could have sworn you heard dragon calls from the Dragonpit. You shivered. Such a call frightened you, but you must not show it, for you were to marry Aegon the Conqueror's descendent with his namesake.
Your bannermen, carrying the banners of the golden rose on a green field, escorted you towards the Throne Room. As a girl, you learned of Maegor’s Holdfast, and were entranced by the idea of a keep within a castle. You also learned of the songs, of how red the Red Keep was, and of the thousand swords that made up the Iron Throne. You were also told that the city smelled of shit and sweat, and that the noise never ceased. All of this you had in mind as your bannermen led you to the doors.
It was Queen Rhaenyra who sat upon the throne, but the Dowager Queen Alicent’s son was the one you would marry. This made you not nearly as important as you could have been, for you were marrying only a prince and not the Crown Prince.
“The Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of her Name, Queen of the Andals and and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”
When the door opened, all you saw was a blinding light from behind the throne. Then, the rest of the room came into view. Apart from the group of people at the front, there stood dozens of nobles in the back. No doubt to see if the Tyrell rose was as beautiful as the tales said.
You saw the Queen with her white Valyrian hair, and her hand, the Princess Rhaenys. To the left was a woman in a green dress, with long auburn curls that could only be the Dowager Queen Alicent. Next to her stood her son Prince Aemond with his infamous eyepatch, and Princess Helaena, a sweet-looking girl about your age. To the left stood a young man who bore a striking resemblance to the Queen. Her son, you thought. It must be her son. From this distance, it looked like his hair was the sea at night, dark and wavy. Beside him stood two younger boys with the same dark hair. You knew of the scorn people had for them, especially when the Queen had borne white-haired babes after them. But did their disposition match what the rumors said?
You were introduced to the royal family. Prince Jacaerys bowed to you and you curtsied to him, and it was the same with the other princes— Lucerys, Joffrey, and Aemond. Only Prince Jacaerys spoke to you, though softly: “My lady,” as he kissed your hand. You smiled at Prince Jacaerys and his brothers, though it was only a simile courtesy.
Prince Aemond stood in the background, eyes watchful and his spine tall. Even though you were going to be marrying his brother, you were intimidated by having such a brother by marriage.
“We are glad you are here, my lady,” Queen Rhaenyra said, sitting at her chair with her hands folded on her lap. “I trust the journey was smooth?”
“A long journey, but I am glad I am here.”
When you curtsied to Queen Alicent, she looked impatient but still smiled at you, before her eyes drifted to the door. Princess Rhaenys, with hair the height of Aegon’s High Hill, stepped up to the throne and whispered something to Queen Rhaenyra. She whispered back, and her eyes caught yours. Your spine straightened as you expected her to say something, but the Queen only smiled at you. Then, the door opened.
“Where is she?” asked a man with crispy white hair. He stormed across the room, his heels making clack clack sounds. Then, his eyes brightened. “Lady Tyrell,” he said with a boyish smile, taking your hand and giving it three small pecks. “Forgive me, a page had a question for me.”
“It is alright,” you responded.
Your betrothed had wispy Valyrian hair and violet eyes, the very picture of a Targaryen.
“I’d like to give you a tour,” he said.
“Now?” You hoped that you would be given some time to rest, mayhaps take a visit to the chamberpot.
“Yes, now.”
You did not know why, but you looked around you. “That sounds… lovely.”
You were glad that you did not walk much today, for your legs would have been hurting by the end of the tour.
You knew that it was a foolish thought, but the Red Keep did not necessarily look Red to you. Or as red as people said. The towers, though, were magnificent. When you walked through the open courtyard of Maegor’s Holdfast, and walked up a staircase, you looked up. There were chandeliers with what looked like a thousand candles going as high as the seven heavens. You stopped, transfixed at the sight. Aegon walked forwards still, and the guards too, until their footsteps fell away. You raised your skirts and ran to catch up to them. He showed you the small council chamber and the Tower of the Hand, the kitchens, the rookery, and the Maidenvault, where you were to live during your betrothal.
“I won’t show you the dungeons,” he said, turning his head to face you as he rounded the corner of the Throne Room. Aegon was a few paces in front of you. “Ladies shouldn’t see such things.”
At first, you felt silly for being scared of the dungeons, but now that he made that comment, something within you wanted to see them.
The doors to the Throne Room were open. There were less people, and so you could see that the walls and columns were decorated with dragon skulls. Aegon turned and walked toward you. “See that skull there?” he said, pointing to the far left. The skull there was large, and you were unsure how the rest of the beast would look like. It had a crooked shape, its texture like wood.
You nodded.
“Sunfyre is bigger, I assure you.”
You chuckled, though your eyes did not leave the dragon skull.
“And that… is my keep,” Aegon said, a proud smile on his face. “Your things are upstairs, most like. Supper will be in the courtyard in an hour.” He took a long, deep breath through his nose, his face tilted to the ceiling. “To take in the summer air!” His smile stretched wide and true.
You smiled back. “Thank you, my Prince. I shall see you there.”
Your solar had a similar fireplace to the one at home. There was a small chip in the stone on the left side, smooth to run your finger across.
You knew what they said about Prince Aegon, that he would be a nothing king would that he be one. The Realm would never truly know, and maybe that was for the best. On the tour, though, he seemed energetic, and such a lively spirit would be a good companion for the rose, for you. Mayhaps his energy was only in merriment. During your low moods, you often lost interest in things that brought you joy— flowers, walking, dancing— so if he did not lose interest in his joy, mayhaps he was not lazy after all.
You turned away from the fireplace and walked toward the open window. Through the arches, you could see hundreds of orange roofs and the green of the Kingswood beyond. You tried to smell the rankness that people spoke of, but there was something else more pungent. The sea, you could smell the sea. You knew that it was only a bay that you were looking at, but beyond, it was the sea.
You had yet to see the gardens, the roses, the gillyflowers… but you told yourself to be patient. Some things were worth the wait.
Smiling, you took a deep breath and walked to your bed, which you collapsed onto.
You sank into the mattress, finally getting some rest. In truth, you were glad to be marrying the Prince and not the Crown Prince. No duty was as daunting as that of the Queen’s. As a Tyrell, you knew a plentiful garden well, and you hoped the same would be for your life. If you were to give the Prince ten children, then so be it.
The hour passed quickly. Soon, someone was knocking at your door. When you opened it, you saw a handmaiden. “Supper is ready, Lady Tyrell.”
The handmaiden led you to the large round table in the center of the room. The princes Aegon, Aemond, Jacaerys, and Lucerys, Princess Helaena, and the ladies Baela and Rhaena were already sitting. You had your flower pressing book in your hands, its three-hundred pages fitting easily within your hands.
You greeted the young nobles, trying to assess each of their dispositions. Rhaena seemed shyer than Baela, and Helaena shyer than Rhaena. Helaena sat still at the table, holding a sea shell. It was a curious sight, but you supposed you were the same with your pastimes.
“I would not think it so,” Aegon said. His goblet already had three spills around it of arbor red. “The servants said that the food was ready, now where in the seven hells is it?”
A servant in his forties was passing by, and startled at Prince Aegon’s tone. “There was a… complication with the pig, my Prince. I am sorry.”
You caught a glance between Prince Aemond and Prince Lucerys; the former glared and the latter grinned.
Sensing some unknown tension, you placed your book onto the table.
“A book?” Prince Aegon questioned, leaning forward. “Are seven people not entertaining enough?”
You blushed, cursing yourself for your stupidity. Ladylike pastimes were coveted, but were not fit to be seen in public. “I… only wished to check something, my prince,” you said quickly.
A servant walked to the table and put a steaming bread basket at the center of the table.
“This bread is delicious,” Lady Baela said, handing a piece to you.
The others reached forward and took a piece of their own, save for Prince Aemond and Princess Helaena, who was still observing her shells.
“Thank you,” you said, taking it from her. You wondered if the cooks had used the Reach’s barley for this.
As you took your first bite, Prince Aegon leaned forward again and looked at your book: Ten Thousand Ships. “What are you doing learning of ships?” The slight smile in his voice told you it was a comment made in jest.
“It is only a book from my library. There are far too many unread books.”
“Is that about Nymeria?” Lady Baela asked, her eyes alight.
“Yes it is. Though I have only read bits and pieces of it.”
Prince Aegon chuckled, taking another sip of wine. “Mayhaps you can give it to Luke, or Lord Corlys.”
Prince Lucerys went red at this, and Prince Jacaerys gave him a light pat on the shoulder.
“I doubt Lord Corlys needs any help, my prince,” you said, laughing. “He is the master of ships, after all.” Not wanting to stir anything up, you did not mention Prince Lucerys.
“What use is an unread book?” Prince Aemond said.
You startled as you looked at him. He was wearing his eyepatch, true, but you could imagine what sapphire lay beneath it.
You flipped to the page you were looking for.
Prince Aegon clicked his tongue as he glanced at the page. “Let me see,” he said, holding his hand out from across the table.
You slid the book over to him. On this particular page lay a small rosebud and a few daisies. The sun was crisp among the pages. These flowers had been pressed only a fortnight ago, and you wanted to check on them.
“Pretty,” Princess Helaena said, and Rhaena nodded in agreement.
Prince Jacaerys shifted in his seat. “It is a lovely spread. How did you come across this?”
“Thank you, my Prince. I started with the flowers when my brother… he picked flowers for a lady visiting Highgarden, but she refused. I asked if I could take them, and he said he didn’t care what happened to them. Then, the gardeners started to give me flowers they weren't using.”
“Ha! Your brother, what is it—Lord Willas—is not very popular with the ladies, I presume?”
“I think not, my Prince.”
Prince Aegon picked the rosebud up and twirled it between his fingers, grinning.
“You can have it,” you said.
“Truly?”
You nodded, though you had hoped to use that particular flower some other time.
“Oh, thank you. It is a lovely little thing— just as you are, my lady.”
You laugh, trying to stifle your discomfort with being called little. In truth, the gods did usually make the woman smaller than the man, but the pain, if not if not for war, was far greater than men would ever know.
“She will have three dragons,” Helaena began. “Two will try to breathe fire upon her, and one will let her ride him.”
“Forgive my sister,” Aegon said, leaning his head forward towards you from across the table. “She is as strange as ever.”
In the Reach, you did not have to keep your fireplace running throughout the night. Here, in King’s Landing, you did. The filigree windows and halfwalls and wall panels blocked the view of the city, so you could not truly get a full view from your seat at your bed.
You heard a distant cry from outside. Was the Street of Silk so close? You did not want to imagine what was going on there, where the person was that made that cry. You thought of your betrothed, your prince.It was true, he was handsome, with quick expressions and mannerisms as if he were some kind of dragon himself. But the question remained: Was he truly a dragon, in the worst sense? You did not want to think that all Targaryens were like that, but there was some truth to the saying: When a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin…
aegon x fem!tyrell!reader (aemond x fem!tyrell!reader and jacaerys x fem!tyrell!reader)
summary: under the reign of queen rhaenyra targaryen, you, lady tyrell, are betrothed to prince aegon targaryen.
warnings/notes: sooo this is a jacaerys x reader fic in disguise! no dance of dragons, smut alluded. reader has hair ect. but no specific descriptors given to her. i am tagging both aegon and aemond in this, since it is technically. but this is probably NOT for the aegon or aemond girls (gn) because they are/will be douches.
wordcount: 2.4k
Your carriage stopped at the Red Keep’s gates. The trip had been a little less than a month. From the Reach, your carriage followed the river Mander, flowing into the streams of Blueburn and Cockleswhent. Although it was a tiring journey, you enjoyed how the landscape rolled across the horizon, with the constant glimmer of the water. There were even some flowers along the way. Within your journal, your small paint set made the colors come alive. You were eager to see what kind of color existed in King’s Landing. What flowers were in the garden’s beds? Would they be as plentiful as in Highgarden?
You would soon find out. Now that the journey was complete, you stepped out onto the streets of the city.
The waters were thick at Blackwater Bay. The Red Keep was tall, a mountain itself atop Aegon’s High Hill. In the distance, you could have sworn you heard dragon calls from the Dragonpit. You shivered. Such a call frightened you, but you must not show it, for you were to marry Aegon the Conqueror's descendent with his namesake.
Your bannermen, carrying the banners of the golden rose on a green field, escorted you towards the Throne Room. As a girl, you learned of Maegor’s Holdfast, and were entranced by the idea of a keep within a castle. You also learned of the songs, of how red the Red Keep was, and of the thousand swords that made up the Iron Throne. You were also told that the city smelled of shit and sweat, and that the noise never ceased. All of this you had in mind as your bannermen led you to the doors.
It was Queen Rhaenyra who sat upon the throne, but the Dowager Queen Alicent’s son was the one you would marry. This made you not nearly as important as you could have been, for you were marrying only a prince and not the Crown Prince.
“The Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of her Name, Queen of the Andals and and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”
When the door opened, all you saw was a blinding light from behind the throne. Then, the rest of the room came into view. Apart from the group of people at the front, there stood dozens of nobles in the back. No doubt to see if the Tyrell rose was as beautiful as the tales said.
You saw the Queen with her white Valyrian hair, and her hand, the Princess Rhaenys. To the left was a woman in a green dress, with long auburn curls that could only be the Dowager Queen Alicent. Next to her stood her son Prince Aemond with his infamous eyepatch, and Princess Helaena, a sweet-looking girl about your age. To the left stood a young man who bore a striking resemblance to the Queen. Her son, you thought. It must be her son. From this distance, it looked like his hair was the sea at night, dark and wavy. Beside him stood two younger boys with the same dark hair. You knew of the scorn people had for them, especially when the Queen had borne white-haired babes after them. But did their disposition match what the rumors said?
You were introduced to the royal family. Prince Jacaerys bowed to you and you curtsied to him, and it was the same with the other princes— Lucerys, Joffrey, and Aemond. Only Prince Jacaerys spoke to you, though softly: “My lady,” as he kissed your hand. You smiled at Prince Jacaerys and his brothers, though it was only a simile courtesy.
Prince Aemond stood in the background, eyes watchful and his spine tall. Even though you were going to be marrying his brother, you were intimidated by having such a brother by marriage.
“We are glad you are here, my lady,” Queen Rhaenyra said, sitting at her chair with her hands folded on her lap. “I trust the journey was smooth?”
“A long journey, but I am glad I am here.”
When you curtsied to Queen Alicent, she looked impatient but still smiled at you, before her eyes drifted to the door. Princess Rhaenys, with hair the height of Aegon’s High Hill, stepped up to the throne and whispered something to Queen Rhaenyra. She whispered back, and her eyes caught yours. Your spine straightened as you expected her to say something, but the Queen only smiled at you. Then, the door opened.
“Where is she?” asked a man with crispy white hair. He stormed across the room, his heels making clack clack sounds. Then, his eyes brightened. “Lady Tyrell,” he said with a boyish smile, taking your hand and giving it three small pecks. “Forgive me, a page had a question for me.”
“It is alright,” you responded.
Your betrothed had wispy Valyrian hair and violet eyes, the very picture of a Targaryen.
“I’d like to give you a tour,” he said.
“Now?” You hoped that you would be given some time to rest, mayhaps take a visit to the chamberpot.
“Yes, now.”
You did not know why, but you looked around you. “That sounds… lovely.”
You were glad that you did not walk much today, for your legs would have been hurting by the end of the tour.
You knew that it was a foolish thought, but the Red Keep did not necessarily look Red to you. Or as red as people said. The towers, though, were magnificent. When you walked through the open courtyard of Maegor’s Holdfast, and walked up a staircase, you looked up. There were chandeliers with what looked like a thousand candles going as high as the seven heavens. You stopped, transfixed at the sight. Aegon walked forwards still, and the guards too, until their footsteps fell away. You raised your skirts and ran to catch up to them. He showed you the small council chamber and the Tower of the Hand, the kitchens, the rookery, and the Maidenvault, where you were to live during your betrothal.
“I won’t show you the dungeons,” he said, turning his head to face you as he rounded the corner of the Throne Room. Aegon was a few paces in front of you. “Ladies shouldn’t see such things.”
At first, you felt silly for being scared of the dungeons, but now that he made that comment, something within you wanted to see them.
The doors to the Throne Room were open. There were less people, and so you could see that the walls and columns were decorated with dragon skulls. Aegon turned and walked toward you. “See that skull there?” he said, pointing to the far left. The skull there was large, and you were unsure how the rest of the beast would look like. It had a crooked shape, its texture like wood.
You nodded.
“Sunfyre is bigger, I assure you.”
You chuckled, though your eyes did not leave the dragon skull.
“And that… is my keep,” Aegon said, a proud smile on his face. “Your things are upstairs, most like. Supper will be in the courtyard in an hour.” He took a long, deep breath through his nose, his face tilted to the ceiling. “To take in the summer air!” His smile stretched wide and true.
You smiled back. “Thank you, my Prince. I shall see you there.”
Your solar had a similar fireplace to the one at home. There was a small chip in the stone on the left side, smooth to run your finger across.
You knew what they said about Prince Aegon, that he would be a nothing king would that he be one. The Realm would never truly know, and maybe that was for the best. On the tour, though, he seemed energetic, and such a lively spirit would be a good companion for the rose, for you. Mayhaps his energy was only in merriment. During your low moods, you often lost interest in things that brought you joy— flowers, walking, dancing— so if he did not lose interest in his joy, mayhaps he was not lazy after all.
You turned away from the fireplace and walked toward the open window. Through the arches, you could see hundreds of orange roofs and the green of the Kingswood beyond. You tried to smell the rankness that people spoke of, but there was something else more pungent. The sea, you could smell the sea. You knew that it was only a bay that you were looking at, but beyond, it was the sea.
You had yet to see the gardens, the roses, the gillyflowers… but you told yourself to be patient. Some things were worth the wait.
Smiling, you took a deep breath and walked to your bed, which you collapsed onto.
You sank into the mattress, finally getting some rest. In truth, you were glad to be marrying the Prince and not the Crown Prince. No duty was as daunting as that of the Queen’s. As a Tyrell, you knew a plentiful garden well, and you hoped the same would be for your life. If you were to give the Prince ten children, then so be it.
The hour passed quickly. Soon, someone was knocking at your door. When you opened it, you saw a handmaiden. “Supper is ready, Lady Tyrell.”
The handmaiden led you to the large round table in the center of the room. The princes Aegon, Aemond, Jacaerys, and Lucerys, Princess Helaena, and the ladies Baela and Rhaena were already sitting. You had your flower pressing book in your hands, its three-hundred pages fitting easily within your hands.
You greeted the young nobles, trying to assess each of their dispositions. Rhaena seemed shyer than Baela, and Helaena shyer than Rhaena. Helaena sat still at the table, holding a sea shell. It was a curious sight, but you supposed you were the same with your pastimes.
“I would not think it so,” Aegon said. His goblet already had three spills around it of arbor red. “The servants said that the food was ready, now where in the seven hells is it?”
A servant in his forties was passing by, and startled at Prince Aegon’s tone. “There was a… complication with the pig, my Prince. I am sorry.”
You caught a glance between Prince Aemond and Prince Lucerys; the former glared and the latter grinned.
Sensing some unknown tension, you placed your book onto the table.
“A book?” Prince Aegon questioned, leaning forward. “Are seven people not entertaining enough?”
You blushed, cursing yourself for your stupidity. Ladylike pastimes were coveted, but were not fit to be seen in public. “I… only wished to check something, my prince,” you said quickly.
A servant walked to the table and put a steaming bread basket at the center of the table.
“This bread is delicious,” Lady Baela said, handing a piece to you.
The others reached forward and took a piece of their own, save for Prince Aemond and Princess Helaena, who was still observing her shells.
“Thank you,” you said, taking it from her. You wondered if the cooks had used the Reach’s barley for this.
As you took your first bite, Prince Aegon leaned forward again and looked at your book: Ten Thousand Ships. “What are you doing learning of ships?” The slight smile in his voice told you it was a comment made in jest.
“It is only a book from my library. There are far too many unread books.”
“Is that about Nymeria?” Lady Baela asked, her eyes alight.
“Yes it is. Though I have only read bits and pieces of it.”
Prince Aegon chuckled, taking another sip of wine. “Mayhaps you can give it to Luke, or Lord Corlys.”
Prince Lucerys went red at this, and Prince Jacaerys gave him a light pat on the shoulder.
“I doubt Lord Corlys needs any help, my prince,” you said, laughing. “He is the master of ships, after all.” Not wanting to stir anything up, you did not mention Prince Lucerys.
“What use is an unread book?” Prince Aemond said.
You startled as you looked at him. He was wearing his eyepatch, true, but you could imagine what sapphire lay beneath it.
You flipped to the page you were looking for.
Prince Aegon clicked his tongue as he glanced at the page. “Let me see,” he said, holding his hand out from across the table.
You slid the book over to him. On this particular page lay a small rosebud and a few daisies. The sun was crisp among the pages. These flowers had been pressed only a fortnight ago, and you wanted to check on them.
“Pretty,” Princess Helaena said, and Rhaena nodded in agreement.
Prince Jacaerys shifted in his seat. “It is a lovely spread. How did you come across this?”
“Thank you, my Prince. I started with the flowers when my brother… he picked flowers for a lady visiting Highgarden, but she refused. I asked if I could take them, and he said he didn’t care what happened to them. Then, the gardeners started to give me flowers they weren't using.”
“Ha! Your brother, what is it—Lord Willas—is not very popular with the ladies, I presume?”
“I think not, my Prince.”
Prince Aegon picked the rosebud up and twirled it between his fingers, grinning.
“You can have it,” you said.
“Truly?”
You nodded, though you had hoped to use that particular flower some other time.
“Oh, thank you. It is a lovely little thing— just as you are, my lady.”
You laugh, trying to stifle your discomfort with being called little. In truth, the gods did usually make the woman smaller than the man, but the pain, if not if not for war, was far greater than men would ever know.
“She will have three dragons,” Helaena began. “Two will try to breathe fire upon her, and one will let her ride him.”
“Forgive my sister,” Aegon said, leaning his head forward towards you from across the table. “She is as strange as ever.”
In the Reach, you did not have to keep your fireplace running throughout the night. Here, in King’s Landing, you did. The filigree windows and halfwalls and wall panels blocked the view of the city, so you could not truly get a full view from your seat at your bed.
You heard a distant cry from outside. Was the Street of Silk so close? You did not want to imagine what was going on there, where the person was that made that cry. You thought of your betrothed, your prince.It was true, he was handsome, with quick expressions and mannerisms as if he were some kind of dragon himself. But the question remained: Was he truly a dragon, in the worst sense? You did not want to think that all Targaryens were like that, but there was some truth to the saying: When a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin…
summary: the wedding, and the wedding night 👑❤️💞💖💝❣️💓
notes: happy new year 🥳 and last chapter! i really enjoyed writing this chapter and this fic overall. ik the updates took a really long time, thank you to everyone that reads it 🩷 this has been my 16.5k love letter to jacaerys velaryon and now it is complete!
You concentrated on finishing your wedding gift for Jacaerys. Most of it was finished, the shining threads that showed some of his likeness and his dragon’s. Though you did have to finish it today, part of the reason why you were up so early was to distract yourself from the arrival of Roesaynne. It would be several hours until you would see her, and the anticipation made you nervous. As you were embroidering the final thread, you heard a knock at the door.
“Yes?”
Fara and your other handmaidens walked through the door, carrying everything you would need for the day. One handmaiden was carrying a kirtle, a new chemise, and stockings. Another was holding sapphire pins for your hair that glittered in the morning light. Fara held your ivory gown. The sight of it all overwhelmed you. Today, your life would be changed forever.
There he was; he wore a high-collared burgundy doublet, with puffed sleeves that tapered at the elbow. His signature shoulder cape made you smile. You could not look for Roesaynne right now. There were many people in the Throne Room: Cregan Stark, Jeyne Arryn, the Lannisters, Tyrells, and the rest of the great houses of Westeros. Looking at the garments the nobles wore, you recognized some of the sigils of the vassal houses: The fist of House Glover, the star and moon of House Tarth, the merman of House Manderly, and many more. There were more than several young ladies looking at Jace, but he was only looking at you.
Your father stood to your left. He nodded at you, began to walk, and then you followed him to your Prince.
Jacaerys cloaked you, half in the colors of House Frey and half in the colors of House Targaryen. The High Septon spoke and instructed you to speak your vows. Jace cupped your face and leaned in until you could see nothing but shadows. Before he kissed you, you could see him smiling, which you mirrored, even for the second that his lips were on yours.
He whispered in your ear. “I cannot look away.”
“Then don’t,” you whispered back.
When you both pulled away, a feeling of dizziness overcame you, but it dissipated as you said your vows.
It was a beautiful day outside, the sun lighting up the tables and the decorations. There were fools aplenty walking around as everyone settled into their seats. Jace led you to the front table, and his mother, cousins, and aunt sat next to him. Even though there was the sound of the lute, the harp, and the drums, there was no dancing yet.
Your eyes scanned the guests’ tables, but there were too many of them to see what you were looking for. In your memory, she oft times wore pinks and blues, and as soon as you looked for those colors, you found her.
“My Princess,” Jace said next to you.
Turning your head, you smiled and flushed at his address. “I am still getting used to that title.”
“May I take you to dance?”
“I have something I must take care of first. Will you join me after?”
Jacaerys nodded and brought your hand to his lips to kiss it.
You let your eyes linger on him for a moment, before a brief chuckle escaped you. You could feel your giddiness bleeding through to your expression, and your Prince matched this.
You got up and walked towards Roesaynne. She was seated at one of the tables on the far left, chatting with her family. She had the same golden-brown hair that curled at the ends, only longer now, and styled half-up. You felt more nervous than you had all day, and you realized that most of the nervousness was not wholly because of the wedding, but also partly because of this.
You opened your mouth to speak, but then she got up. For a moment, you felt awkward standing there, thinking that she was getting up to walk away from you, but she then walked in your direction.
“Roesaynne,” you said, but that was all you were able to say before she hugged you tight.
“You and I were girls when we last saw each other,” she whispered. “But now I am only a lady, and you are the Princess.”
“I am still a lady,” you said, smiling. “Do you wish our stations reversed?”
“No, I cannot have that many eyes upon me.”
“In truth, I do not think so of myself, either.”
“No one can be such a rank alone,” Roesaynne said, looking at Jacaerys. He was standing at a table, talking to Prince Qoren Martell, who was gesticulating enthusiastically. Your husband laughed as a fire dancer swished his staff in front of him.
“I know,” you said, turning to Roesaynne. “You must visit, now that the peace has finally settled.”
“I am not one to invite myself over, but I wanted to ask the same thing.”
“I think you are wrong about the first part.” You grinned.
You both doubled over, a pair of laughing girls again.
A little while later, you walked over to Jace. When he turned to you, you held your arm out, and you did not have to say a thing; he took it and led you over to the dance floor. You knew this dance from the few feasts you had attended in your past. But there was a certain elegance to the way that Jace moved, much like what you had observed from his sword fighting. After a minute, you were not sure if it was him leading or you. Both your steps mirrored the other.
“You spoke to Roesaynne?” Your husband said. Everyone was back at their tables, including you. Your plate had been filled with roast duck, peas, dates, and ale pie. Roesaynne was back at her table, eating.
You nodded and placed your fork down. “Yes. I… I missed her.”
“Do you regret my suggestion?”
“Not at all,” you said. “It was the right choice, I think.”
“You are sure?”
You nodded.
“Good,” Jace said softly, before a moment of silence passed over you. Then, he raised his goblet and stood up. The music stopped. “The Princess and I hope that you have enjoyed your feast,” Jace said, raising his goblet.
“You may have wondered what a shame it would be that all the leftovers will be thrown away. Well, this would never be, because all that is left will be brought to the people of the city, to feed those that need it most.”
You gasped.
Applause sounded, and there were guests aplenty cheering. All of this commotion made it easier for you to do what you did next. You turned to him, stood on your tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek. He let out a breath of surprise; you felt it on your face, but the color that rose to his face told you that it was not an ill-received action. “I should thank you,” he said to only you, “for making me see things differently.”
“It did not require much effort of mine,” you said, thinking of that day at the orchard. “I just told you what I thought.”
“Exactly,” he said.
There was a scraping noise in the back. “Let us raise our cups to the most legitimate heir there ever was,” yelled a man. He had hair that was combed into a ponytail, but it was like to be disheveled before. White streaked his hair, and something told you that it was not old age that caused it.
A resounding silence filled the room.
“Ulf,” Jace said firmly. He looked stiff, like he had anger to contain.
Ulf laughed. “It was a jest, that was all.”
The air in your throat went dry. You turned to Jace, whose eyes bore into the crowd, at the one man in particular. “Jace,” you whispered, to which he broke his gaze to look at you. “Do you trust me?”
He nodded. “Yes. Yes, and then some.”
Even with his assurance, you could feel your heart beating twice as fast as before.
You faced the crowd and picked up your own goblet. It was almost as if you were dancing, except you did not know what steps to take. With this foolish improvisation, there was no one to guide you.
You felt a hand at your back, and then all your words came to you.
“Yes, let us raise our cups to the Prince, who has been well acquainted with battle, with ending the war. The way that we met was by his seeking of alliance for Queen Rhaenyra.” Briefly, you turned to her, and shared a smile. “And that is only one example of his diplomacy. He will not be an heir forever, but a king, and he has the practice and the spirit aplenty for that.”
The crowd stood up and roared; you could see Cregan Stark’s affirming face in the distance, as well as Lady Jeyne Arryn’s. Jacaerys looked stunned, his face going blank for a second, before he cleared his throat. “With such lively guests, we cannot delay the dancing anymore,” he announced.
The music started again, and many people rushed to the floor.
You and Jace sat down.
“That was— my love, I…”
“You need not be surprised," you said. “‘Tis only true.”
“I am,” he reaffirmed. “I am, I am, I am.”
A few people got up at the end of your table. It was the ladies Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena, who walked up to you at the other side of the table.
“This song is my favorite,” Helaena said. “Would you like to join us?”
“I would,” you said. “Can I invite a friend?”
“Of course,” Baela said, as she and Rhaena gave you their arms.
Soon, you were in a circle with them and Roesaynne, spinning around to the music. The joy on each of their faces and on yours… You had missed this.
“Can I join?” a voice from beside you said. It was Marsella.
As you and Roesaynne made space for her, you saw Thimbus and Dannis shaking each other in the corner, and Gunther talking to a lady at a table. You must have been distracted, because you bumped into someone behind you.
“Oh, pardon, my lady. Or, my Princess, or consort.” Ulf had brought his wine, and now it dribbled down his chin. He brought the goblet below his mouth and wiped the wine away. “Future queen, and—”
You could not help but feel disgust. “Sir Ulf,” you said punctually. “I trust you are enjoying the music?”
“Oh yes, very very.” He belched then, and only half-covered it.
“Your remark earlier was quite… bold.”
“Ha! I was expecting at least a few laughs.”
You pursed your lips. “If you, or anyone else makes any more of its kind, then I will see that justice is served. That will stop those remarks from ever being able to have been made.”
In his chambers, Jacaerys shut the door behind you, quieting the noise of the guests. Even though there was no bedding ceremony, a few of them followed you all the way to the doors. A woman behind the door shouted something, and a fit of laughter followed.
You laughed, and then Jace joined in, joining you by the wall.
“The nobles seem to be more enthusiastic about this than us,” you joked.
“That is wholly wrong,” Jace said. He took your hands in his and caressed your palms. “I am glad to be in your privacy.”
“You flatter me.”
“‘Tis only true.”
A moment of silence passed between you. Even with the fireplace across the room, the air was hot, or maybe it was just your body. Fit for a prince, the room was spacious with a large canopy bed, white linens draping from the ceiling. There was a small loveseat in front of the bed, and next to that, a side table. A large bookshelf stood between the window and the fireplace which was filled to the brim. Ancient Valyrian texts, you guessed on the history and language.
You let go of his hands to adjust your sleeves, but felt discontent with the tightness of them. You noticed how tight your kirtle was too, as well as the rest of your gown. You reached to undo the lacings at your back, but your hands struggled at the awkward angle.
You sighed. “Jace, could you—”
“Yes,” he said. He walked behind you and untied the laces, loosening the garment from your body. He pulled at the top of your sleeve to take the rest of the gown off, until you were only in the chemise. One by one, he took out the pins in your hair and placed them on the table closest to you.
“Would you want…” you trailed off, but were assured by Jace’s vigorous nod. His lacings were similar, at the sides instead of the back, with many, many eyelets. Once he was only in his tunic and breeches, you crossed your arms. You were not used to being in such sheer fabric with a man. You flushed as you remembered that you had seen each other like this once.
“I am curious…” you said, taking a pin and tucking it into his curls.
Jace chuckled and reached up to touch it. “I am not sure sapphire is my stone as much as it is yours, Princess.”
“No matter, it is still pretty.” Then, you took it out of his hair and put it on the table. Your hand reached to where the pin was, rearranging the section of curls. It was easy to get lost in the touch of another, you thought.
“Could we have a moment to talk?” Jace asked, gesturing towards the loveseat.
“Of course,” you said. “I… I have some things I wish to say to you as well.” You could not think of the bed just yet, and although the anticipation was pleasant, it felt rushed. In truth you have many things to say to him. And to kiss him, thoroughly, since that knowledge seemed earned by now. You knew many things about him: His preference for silver adornments instead of gold, how he would be wont to spend his time with his dragon and histories, and how he enjoyed his council meetings from time to time. But there was still more to learn.
“You spoke up for me, twice.”
“I did,” you said. “You are my husband, what else was I to do?”
Jace blushed and looked down. “Did Ulf say anything to offend you?”
“No. But do his words still leave a mark on you?”
“Less so than before,” Jace said genuinely. “There was plenty to distract from that. I saw you today, dancing with my cousins and aunt. You enjoyed their presence, I hope?”
“I did,” you said. “I loved them being here, thank you, Jace.”
“It was hardly any effort of mine,” he said. “Your beauty… is divine, and today, surrounded by your friends and acquaintances— you possessed the most beautiful divinity. I saw it, and I know this. I only wish to see you happier still.”
“What am I to say to that?” you asked lightheartedly.
“I had something made for you,” he said, reaching into the table’s drawer and handing an item to you. It was a small package encased in silk wrappings. You unwrapped it, and gasped once you saw the pendant hanging from a silver chain. Your initials were engraved on the face of the locket, and when you opened it, you saw that one side was the Frey sigil, sapphires and moonstones marking the blue and grey, and the other side the Targaryen sigil, with rubies for the red of the dragon.
“Would you like to wear it now?”
You nodded.
As he put the necklace on you, you noticed that it was not his closeness that made you nervous, but the act in its simplicity itself. You touched the pendant, which felt calming to the touch. Then, you got up to get your gift in the pocket of your gown.
“Where are you going?” Jace asked.
You said nothing, only smiling at him as you bent down to reach your hand in your pocket. “This… is for you,” you said, walking over to him.
It was a small handkerchief, but you had tried to be as detailed as you could with his face, his attire, and his dragon. You were not sure if it was just your eyes, but the colors seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. You handed it to him.
Jace let out a small gasp. “It is so beautiful I almost do not want to use it,” he said.
“Use it.” You closed his palm that was holding the cloth and placed your own palm on his knuckles. “I want you to.”
Jace smiled, his face alight and warm as your face turned more serious. You took your time looking at his face. You realized a simple truth: Love had attraction under its wing. “You have only become more handsome in the time I have known you. I never envisioned that I would marry so special a man, much less a prince. You have brought so many joys into my life and have encouraged me to call upon those of my past. I… am grateful for this. For you.” You took his hand and kissed it gently, hoping that this was a claiming of sorts. An assertion that his hand was yours alone to hold, to kiss, and to protect you from the horrors of the realm.
“My Princess.”
“My name, Jace.”
His eyes found yours in a stare that made you blush. He said your name, a certain divinity to it. Fleetingly, his lips stamped onto yours before he pulled away. It was much like the kiss you shared hours ago, a kiss for when you knew the person well and the curvature of their lips. But you did not know. And you yearned to.
“My love,” Jacaerys said.
There was no doubt that his mouth was particularly beautiful, his lips plump and mesmerizing. You looked at him; he nodded. It was your time to lean in and bring your lips upon his.
Your eyes shut on instinct, a sign that you were truly engaged. You opened your eyes just a smidge to see if Jace’s were closed as well, and indeed they were. It was a distorted image, Jace’s face being so close to yours, and this proximity made your mind spin. Only in a kiss were you blind to the form of your partner. That was a vulnerability in itself. Your lips searched his for something of an answer as you began to wonder, at what point does a pair of lips become your beloved’s mouth, or attraction morph into a solid love?
You shifted closer, folding one leg and slinging it over his hip so that you were seated on his lap. Jace moaned, and put a hand on your own hip.
Jace brushed his tongue against the seam of your lips, and you opened your mouth. His lips opened for you like a rose, sweet and blooming. The heat was overwhelming, and yet, a gentle warmth pooled into your bones. And then you thought again about the difference between comfort and intimacy, and how the bridge between the two was formed. Love, you thought, plain and simple. To be held was to be kept, and not in a way of imprisonment. It took a tender heart to show that, one reason why he was your beloved.
You wanted to plaster the whole of yourself onto him. Without another thought, you pulled away, breathing, “May I try something?”
Jace nodded.
You kissed along his jawline, down to the hollow of his neck and over its expanse, and paused when he gasped. Smiling, you kissed him again at that same spot until you created a bloom of red. Jace let out a sweet whimper.
“You are quite vocal,” you said, pulling away.
“You overwhelm me, my love,” he said. “Would you… want to move to the bed?” Jace asked, swallowing.
You were entranced by the rise and fall of his Adam's apple, but you also noticed his eyes scan down your body. This left you feeling vulnerable, but to feel this way for him, and he for you, was what you wanted.
“I want you,” he said, and his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “I mean to say… I need you, if you’ll have me.”
“Yes. Yes, I love you, Jace.”
He leaned in close and pressed his forehead to yours. His heated breath sent a chill down your spine as he whispered, “I… I adore you.”
You kissed each other again, short pecks, with small intakes of air before the press of skin.
As you parted, you asked, trying to collect yourself. “Will this be your first time as well?”
Jace smiled and looked down. “Yes. I know that it is painful, the first time, for a maiden.”
“I know. I am frightened a little; I mean no offense.” Even with this declaration, you needed to feel him more intimately, to lie with him.
He cupped your face. “None taken. Whatever you need, I shall give. I hope to make you feel good, my lady.”
“And I, you.”
He took your hand and kissed it, then stood and led you over to the bed. You held his thrumming wrist, your thumb pressing against the artery that told you that he had a pulse. Then, Jace lifted you by the waist and placed you onto the bed.
It was easy to peel away the soft linens of his tunic and breeches. You caressed his waist with your thumbs, taking in the sight in front of you. His nude body was a vision, captivating and precious. It was him that you found security in.
Then, laughter. You look at him, then down at his hands. Your chemise was halfway up, and he meant to take it off you.
“Oh, I am sorry.” As you raised your arms, a few giggles escaped you.
Jacaerys smiled and shook his head. Then, he undid the laces of your chemise and lifted the garment over you. Once he tossed it to the side and looked at you, his smile clouded over. A look of awe swept across his face. You shared this look with him, which felt like more than a kiss or a bedding, awaiting for all that was to come.
thinking of writing an aegon x reader/aemond x reader/jacaerys x reader fic of the betrothals in succession (not simultaneously) inspired by sansa stark in king's landing and possibly queen isabella of portugal... walk with me...
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
summary: the wedding, and the wedding night 👑❤️💞💖💝❣️💓
notes: happy new year 🥳 and last chapter! i really enjoyed writing this chapter and this fic overall. ik the updates took a really long time, thank you to everyone that reads it 🩷 this has been my 16.5k love letter to jacaerys velaryon and now it is complete!
You concentrated on finishing your wedding gift for Jacaerys. Most of it was finished, the shining threads that showed some of his likeness and his dragon’s. Though you did have to finish it today, part of the reason why you were up so early was to distract yourself from the arrival of Roesaynne. It would be several hours until you would see her, and the anticipation made you nervous. As you were embroidering the final thread, you heard a knock at the door.
“Yes?”
Fara and your other handmaidens walked through the door, carrying everything you would need for the day. One handmaiden was carrying a kirtle, a new chemise, and stockings. Another was holding sapphire pins for your hair that glittered in the morning light. Fara held your ivory gown. The sight of it all overwhelmed you. Today, your life would be changed forever.
There he was; he wore a high-collared burgundy doublet, with puffed sleeves that tapered at the elbow. His signature shoulder cape made you smile. You could not look for Roesaynne right now. There were many people in the Throne Room: Cregan Stark, Jeyne Arryn, the Lannisters, Tyrells, and the rest of the great houses of Westeros. Looking at the garments the nobles wore, you recognized some of the sigils of the vassal houses: The fist of House Glover, the star and moon of House Tarth, the merman of House Manderly, and many more. There were more than several young ladies looking at Jace, but he was only looking at you.
Your father stood to your left. He nodded at you, began to walk, and then you followed him to your Prince.
Jacaerys cloaked you, half in the colors of House Frey and half in the colors of House Targaryen. The High Septon spoke and instructed you to speak your vows. Jace cupped your face and leaned in until you could see nothing but shadows. Before he kissed you, you could see him smiling, which you mirrored, even for the second that his lips were on yours.
He whispered in your ear. “I cannot look away.”
“Then don’t,” you whispered back.
When you both pulled away, a feeling of dizziness overcame you, but it dissipated as you said your vows.
It was a beautiful day outside, the sun lighting up the tables and the decorations. There were fools aplenty walking around as everyone settled into their seats. Jace led you to the front table, and his mother, cousins, and aunt sat next to him. Even though there was the sound of the lute, the harp, and the drums, there was no dancing yet.
Your eyes scanned the guests’ tables, but there were too many of them to see what you were looking for. In your memory, she oft times wore pinks and blues, and as soon as you looked for those colors, you found her.
“My Princess,” Jace said next to you.
Turning your head, you smiled and flushed at his address. “I am still getting used to that title.”
“May I take you to dance?”
“I have something I must take care of first. Will you join me after?”
Jacaerys nodded and brought your hand to his lips to kiss it.
You let your eyes linger on him for a moment, before a brief chuckle escaped you. You could feel your giddiness bleeding through to your expression, and your Prince matched this.
You got up and walked towards Roesaynne. She was seated at one of the tables on the far left, chatting with her family. She had the same golden-brown hair that curled at the ends, only longer now, and styled half-up. You felt more nervous than you had all day, and you realized that most of the nervousness was not wholly because of the wedding, but also partly because of this.
You opened your mouth to speak, but then she got up. For a moment, you felt awkward standing there, thinking that she was getting up to walk away from you, but she then walked in your direction.
“Roesaynne,” you said, but that was all you were able to say before she hugged you tight.
“You and I were girls when we last saw each other,” she whispered. “But now I am only a lady, and you are the Princess.”
“I am still a lady,” you said, smiling. “Do you wish our stations reversed?”
“No, I cannot have that many eyes upon me.”
“In truth, I do not think so of myself, either.”
“No one can be such a rank alone,” Roesaynne said, looking at Jacaerys. He was standing at a table, talking to Prince Qoren Martell, who was gesticulating enthusiastically. Your husband laughed as a fire dancer swished his staff in front of him.
“I know,” you said, turning to Roesaynne. “You must visit, now that the peace has finally settled.”
“I am not one to invite myself over, but I wanted to ask the same thing.”
“I think you are wrong about the first part.” You grinned.
You both doubled over, a pair of laughing girls again.
A little while later, you walked over to Jace. When he turned to you, you held your arm out, and you did not have to say a thing; he took it and led you over to the dance floor. You knew this dance from the few feasts you had attended in your past. But there was a certain elegance to the way that Jace moved, much like what you had observed from his sword fighting. After a minute, you were not sure if it was him leading or you. Both your steps mirrored the other.
“You spoke to Roesaynne?” Your husband said. Everyone was back at their tables, including you. Your plate had been filled with roast duck, peas, dates, and ale pie. Roesaynne was back at her table, eating.
You nodded and placed your fork down. “Yes. I… I missed her.”
“Do you regret my suggestion?”
“Not at all,” you said. “It was the right choice, I think.”
“You are sure?”
You nodded.
“Good,” Jace said softly, before a moment of silence passed over you. Then, he raised his goblet and stood up. The music stopped. “The Princess and I hope that you have enjoyed your feast,” Jace said, raising his goblet.
“You may have wondered what a shame it would be that all the leftovers will be thrown away. Well, this would never be, because all that is left will be brought to the people of the city, to feed those that need it most.”
You gasped.
Applause sounded, and there were guests aplenty cheering. All of this commotion made it easier for you to do what you did next. You turned to him, stood on your tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek. He let out a breath of surprise; you felt it on your face, but the color that rose to his face told you that it was not an ill-received action. “I should thank you,” he said to only you, “for making me see things differently.”
“It did not require much effort of mine,” you said, thinking of that day at the orchard. “I just told you what I thought.”
“Exactly,” he said.
There was a scraping noise in the back. “Let us raise our cups to the most legitimate heir there ever was,” yelled a man. He had hair that was combed into a ponytail, but it was like to be disheveled before. White streaked his hair, and something told you that it was not old age that caused it.
A resounding silence filled the room.
“Ulf,” Jace said firmly. He looked stiff, like he had anger to contain.
Ulf laughed. “It was a jest, that was all.”
The air in your throat went dry. You turned to Jace, whose eyes bore into the crowd, at the one man in particular. “Jace,” you whispered, to which he broke his gaze to look at you. “Do you trust me?”
He nodded. “Yes. Yes, and then some.”
Even with his assurance, you could feel your heart beating twice as fast as before.
You faced the crowd and picked up your own goblet. It was almost as if you were dancing, except you did not know what steps to take. With this foolish improvisation, there was no one to guide you.
You felt a hand at your back, and then all your words came to you.
“Yes, let us raise our cups to the Prince, who has been well acquainted with battle, with ending the war. The way that we met was by his seeking of alliance for Queen Rhaenyra.” Briefly, you turned to her, and shared a smile. “And that is only one example of his diplomacy. He will not be an heir forever, but a king, and he has the practice and the spirit aplenty for that.”
The crowd stood up and roared; you could see Cregan Stark’s affirming face in the distance, as well as Lady Jeyne Arryn’s. Jacaerys looked stunned, his face going blank for a second, before he cleared his throat. “With such lively guests, we cannot delay the dancing anymore,” he announced.
The music started again, and many people rushed to the floor.
You and Jace sat down.
“That was— my love, I…”
“You need not be surprised," you said. “‘Tis only true.”
“I am,” he reaffirmed. “I am, I am, I am.”
A few people got up at the end of your table. It was the ladies Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena, who walked up to you at the other side of the table.
“This song is my favorite,” Helaena said. “Would you like to join us?”
“I would,” you said. “Can I invite a friend?”
“Of course,” Baela said, as she and Rhaena gave you their arms.
Soon, you were in a circle with them and Roesaynne, spinning around to the music. The joy on each of their faces and on yours… You had missed this.
“Can I join?” a voice from beside you said. It was Marsella.
As you and Roesaynne made space for her, you saw Thimbus and Dannis shaking each other in the corner, and Gunther talking to a lady at a table. You must have been distracted, because you bumped into someone behind you.
“Oh, pardon, my lady. Or, my Princess, or consort.” Ulf had brought his wine, and now it dribbled down his chin. He brought the goblet below his mouth and wiped the wine away. “Future queen, and—”
You could not help but feel disgust. “Sir Ulf,” you said punctually. “I trust you are enjoying the music?”
“Oh yes, very very.” He belched then, and only half-covered it.
“Your remark earlier was quite… bold.”
“Ha! I was expecting at least a few laughs.”
You pursed your lips. “If you, or anyone else makes any more of its kind, then I will see that justice is served. That will stop those remarks from ever being able to have been made.”
In his chambers, Jacaerys shut the door behind you, quieting the noise of the guests. Even though there was no bedding ceremony, a few of them followed you all the way to the doors. A woman behind the door shouted something, and a fit of laughter followed.
You laughed, and then Jace joined in, joining you by the wall.
“The nobles seem to be more enthusiastic about this than us,” you joked.
“That is wholly wrong,” Jace said. He took your hands in his and caressed your palms. “I am glad to be in your privacy.”
“You flatter me.”
“‘Tis only true.”
A moment of silence passed between you. Even with the fireplace across the room, the air was hot, or maybe it was just your body. Fit for a prince, the room was spacious with a large canopy bed, white linens draping from the ceiling. There was a small loveseat in front of the bed, and next to that, a side table. A large bookshelf stood between the window and the fireplace which was filled to the brim. Ancient Valyrian texts, you guessed on the history and language.
You let go of his hands to adjust your sleeves, but felt discontent with the tightness of them. You noticed how tight your kirtle was too, as well as the rest of your gown. You reached to undo the lacings at your back, but your hands struggled at the awkward angle.
You sighed. “Jace, could you—”
“Yes,” he said. He walked behind you and untied the laces, loosening the garment from your body. He pulled at the top of your sleeve to take the rest of the gown off, until you were only in the chemise. One by one, he took out the pins in your hair and placed them on the table closest to you.
“Would you want…” you trailed off, but were assured by Jace’s vigorous nod. His lacings were similar, at the sides instead of the back, with many, many eyelets. Once he was only in his tunic and breeches, you crossed your arms. You were not used to being in such sheer fabric with a man. You flushed as you remembered that you had seen each other like this once.
“I am curious…” you said, taking a pin and tucking it into his curls.
Jace chuckled and reached up to touch it. “I am not sure sapphire is my stone as much as it is yours, Princess.”
“No matter, it is still pretty.” Then, you took it out of his hair and put it on the table. Your hand reached to where the pin was, rearranging the section of curls. It was easy to get lost in the touch of another, you thought.
“Could we have a moment to talk?” Jace asked, gesturing towards the loveseat.
“Of course,” you said. “I… I have some things I wish to say to you as well.” You could not think of the bed just yet, and although the anticipation was pleasant, it felt rushed. In truth you have many things to say to him. And to kiss him, thoroughly, since that knowledge seemed earned by now. You knew many things about him: His preference for silver adornments instead of gold, how he would be wont to spend his time with his dragon and histories, and how he enjoyed his council meetings from time to time. But there was still more to learn.
“You spoke up for me, twice.”
“I did,” you said. “You are my husband, what else was I to do?”
Jace blushed and looked down. “Did Ulf say anything to offend you?”
“No. But do his words still leave a mark on you?”
“Less so than before,” Jace said genuinely. “There was plenty to distract from that. I saw you today, dancing with my cousins and aunt. You enjoyed their presence, I hope?”
“I did,” you said. “I loved them being here, thank you, Jace.”
“It was hardly any effort of mine,” he said. “Your beauty… is divine, and today, surrounded by your friends and acquaintances— you possessed the most beautiful divinity. I saw it, and I know this. I only wish to see you happier still.”
“What am I to say to that?” you asked lightheartedly.
“I had something made for you,” he said, reaching into the table’s drawer and handing an item to you. It was a small package encased in silk wrappings. You unwrapped it, and gasped once you saw the pendant hanging from a silver chain. Your initials were engraved on the face of the locket, and when you opened it, you saw that one side was the Frey sigil, sapphires and moonstones marking the blue and grey, and the other side the Targaryen sigil, with rubies for the red of the dragon.
“Would you like to wear it now?”
You nodded.
As he put the necklace on you, you noticed that it was not his closeness that made you nervous, but the act in its simplicity itself. You touched the pendant, which felt calming to the touch. Then, you got up to get your gift in the pocket of your gown.
“Where are you going?” Jace asked.
You said nothing, only smiling at him as you bent down to reach your hand in your pocket. “This… is for you,” you said, walking over to him.
It was a small handkerchief, but you had tried to be as detailed as you could with his face, his attire, and his dragon. You were not sure if it was just your eyes, but the colors seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. You handed it to him.
Jace let out a small gasp. “It is so beautiful I almost do not want to use it,” he said.
“Use it.” You closed his palm that was holding the cloth and placed your own palm on his knuckles. “I want you to.”
Jace smiled, his face alight and warm as your face turned more serious. You took your time looking at his face. You realized a simple truth: Love had attraction under its wing. “You have only become more handsome in the time I have known you. I never envisioned that I would marry so special a man, much less a prince. You have brought so many joys into my life and have encouraged me to call upon those of my past. I… am grateful for this. For you.” You took his hand and kissed it gently, hoping that this was a claiming of sorts. An assertion that his hand was yours alone to hold, to kiss, and to protect you from the horrors of the realm.
“My Princess.”
“My name, Jace.”
His eyes found yours in a stare that made you blush. He said your name, a certain divinity to it. Fleetingly, his lips stamped onto yours before he pulled away. It was much like the kiss you shared hours ago, a kiss for when you knew the person well and the curvature of their lips. But you did not know. And you yearned to.
“My love,” Jacaerys said.
There was no doubt that his mouth was particularly beautiful, his lips plump and mesmerizing. You looked at him; he nodded. It was your time to lean in and bring your lips upon his.
Your eyes shut on instinct, a sign that you were truly engaged. You opened your eyes just a smidge to see if Jace’s were closed as well, and indeed they were. It was a distorted image, Jace’s face being so close to yours, and this proximity made your mind spin. Only in a kiss were you blind to the form of your partner. That was a vulnerability in itself. Your lips searched his for something of an answer as you began to wonder, at what point does a pair of lips become your beloved’s mouth, or attraction morph into a solid love?
You shifted closer, folding one leg and slinging it over his hip so that you were seated on his lap. Jace moaned, and put a hand on your own hip.
Jace brushed his tongue against the seam of your lips, and you opened your mouth. His lips opened for you like a rose, sweet and blooming. The heat was overwhelming, and yet, a gentle warmth pooled into your bones. And then you thought again about the difference between comfort and intimacy, and how the bridge between the two was formed. Love, you thought, plain and simple. To be held was to be kept, and not in a way of imprisonment. It took a tender heart to show that, one reason why he was your beloved.
You wanted to plaster the whole of yourself onto him. Without another thought, you pulled away, breathing, “May I try something?”
Jace nodded.
You kissed along his jawline, down to the hollow of his neck and over its expanse, and paused when he gasped. Smiling, you kissed him again at that same spot until you created a bloom of red. Jace let out a sweet whimper.
“You are quite vocal,” you said, pulling away.
“You overwhelm me, my love,” he said. “Would you… want to move to the bed?” Jace asked, swallowing.
You were entranced by the rise and fall of his Adam's apple, but you also noticed his eyes scan down your body. This left you feeling vulnerable, but to feel this way for him, and he for you, was what you wanted.
“I want you,” he said, and his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “I mean to say… I need you, if you’ll have me.”
“Yes. Yes, I love you, Jace.”
He leaned in close and pressed his forehead to yours. His heated breath sent a chill down your spine as he whispered, “I… I adore you.”
You kissed each other again, short pecks, with small intakes of air before the press of skin.
As you parted, you asked, trying to collect yourself. “Will this be your first time as well?”
Jace smiled and looked down. “Yes. I know that it is painful, the first time, for a maiden.”
“I know. I am frightened a little; I mean no offense.” Even with this declaration, you needed to feel him more intimately, to lie with him.
He cupped your face. “None taken. Whatever you need, I shall give. I hope to make you feel good, my lady.”
“And I, you.”
He took your hand and kissed it, then stood and led you over to the bed. You held his thrumming wrist, your thumb pressing against the artery that told you that he had a pulse. Then, Jace lifted you by the waist and placed you onto the bed.
It was easy to peel away the soft linens of his tunic and breeches. You caressed his waist with your thumbs, taking in the sight in front of you. His nude body was a vision, captivating and precious. It was him that you found security in.
Then, laughter. You look at him, then down at his hands. Your chemise was halfway up, and he meant to take it off you.
“Oh, I am sorry.” As you raised your arms, a few giggles escaped you.
Jacaerys smiled and shook his head. Then, he undid the laces of your chemise and lifted the garment over you. Once he tossed it to the side and looked at you, his smile clouded over. A look of awe swept across his face. You shared this look with him, which felt like more than a kiss or a bedding, awaiting for all that was to come.
summary: the wedding, and the wedding night 👑❤️💞💖💝❣️💓
notes: happy new year 🥳 and last chapter! i really enjoyed writing this chapter and this fic overall. ik the updates took a really long time, thank you to everyone that reads it 🩷 this has been my 16.5k love letter to jacaerys velaryon and now it is complete!
You concentrated on finishing your wedding gift for Jacaerys. Most of it was finished, the shining threads that showed some of his likeness and his dragon’s. Though you did have to finish it today, part of the reason why you were up so early was to distract yourself from the arrival of Roesaynne. It would be several hours until you would see her, and the anticipation made you nervous. As you were embroidering the final thread, you heard a knock at the door.
“Yes?”
Fara and your other handmaidens walked through the door, carrying everything you would need for the day. One handmaiden was carrying a kirtle, a new chemise, and stockings. Another was holding sapphire pins for your hair that glittered in the morning light. Fara held your ivory gown. The sight of it all overwhelmed you. Today, your life would be changed forever.
There he was; he wore a high-collared burgundy doublet, with puffed sleeves that tapered at the elbow. His signature shoulder cape made you smile. You could not look for Roesaynne right now. There were many people in the Throne Room: Cregan Stark, Jeyne Arryn, the Lannisters, Tyrells, and the rest of the great houses of Westeros. Looking at the garments the nobles wore, you recognized some of the sigils of the vassal houses: The fist of House Glover, the star and moon of House Tarth, the merman of House Manderly, and many more. There were more than several young ladies looking at Jace, but he was only looking at you.
Your father stood to your left. He nodded at you, began to walk, and then you followed him to your Prince.
Jacaerys cloaked you, half in the colors of House Frey and half in the colors of House Targaryen. The High Septon spoke and instructed you to speak your vows. Jace cupped your face and leaned in until you could see nothing but shadows. Before he kissed you, you could see him smiling, which you mirrored, even for the second that his lips were on yours.
He whispered in your ear. “I cannot look away.”
“Then don’t,” you whispered back.
When you both pulled away, a feeling of dizziness overcame you, but it dissipated as you said your vows.
It was a beautiful day outside, the sun lighting up the tables and the decorations. There were fools aplenty walking around as everyone settled into their seats. Jace led you to the front table, and his mother, cousins, and aunt sat next to him. Even though there was the sound of the lute, the harp, and the drums, there was no dancing yet.
Your eyes scanned the guests’ tables, but there were too many of them to see what you were looking for. In your memory, she oft times wore pinks and blues, and as soon as you looked for those colors, you found her.
“My Princess,” Jace said next to you.
Turning your head, you smiled and flushed at his address. “I am still getting used to that title.”
“May I take you to dance?”
“I have something I must take care of first. Will you join me after?”
Jacaerys nodded and brought your hand to his lips to kiss it.
You let your eyes linger on him for a moment, before a brief chuckle escaped you. You could feel your giddiness bleeding through to your expression, and your Prince matched this.
You got up and walked towards Roesaynne. She was seated at one of the tables on the far left, chatting with her family. She had the same golden-brown hair that curled at the ends, only longer now, and styled half-up. You felt more nervous than you had all day, and you realized that most of the nervousness was not wholly because of the wedding, but also partly because of this.
You opened your mouth to speak, but then she got up. For a moment, you felt awkward standing there, thinking that she was getting up to walk away from you, but she then walked in your direction.
“Roesaynne,” you said, but that was all you were able to say before she hugged you tight.
“You and I were girls when we last saw each other,” she whispered. “But now I am only a lady, and you are the Princess.”
“I am still a lady,” you said, smiling. “Do you wish our stations reversed?”
“No, I cannot have that many eyes upon me.”
“In truth, I do not think so of myself, either.”
“No one can be such a rank alone,” Roesaynne said, looking at Jacaerys. He was standing at a table, talking to Prince Qoren Martell, who was gesticulating enthusiastically. Your husband laughed as a fire dancer swished his staff in front of him.
“I know,” you said, turning to Roesaynne. “You must visit, now that the peace has finally settled.”
“I am not one to invite myself over, but I wanted to ask the same thing.”
“I think you are wrong about the first part.” You grinned.
You both doubled over, a pair of laughing girls again.
A little while later, you walked over to Jace. When he turned to you, you held your arm out, and you did not have to say a thing; he took it and led you over to the dance floor. You knew this dance from the few feasts you had attended in your past. But there was a certain elegance to the way that Jace moved, much like what you had observed from his sword fighting. After a minute, you were not sure if it was him leading or you. Both your steps mirrored the other.
“You spoke to Roesaynne?” Your husband said. Everyone was back at their tables, including you. Your plate had been filled with roast duck, peas, dates, and ale pie. Roesaynne was back at her table, eating.
You nodded and placed your fork down. “Yes. I… I missed her.”
“Do you regret my suggestion?”
“Not at all,” you said. “It was the right choice, I think.”
“You are sure?”
You nodded.
“Good,” Jace said softly, before a moment of silence passed over you. Then, he raised his goblet and stood up. The music stopped. “The Princess and I hope that you have enjoyed your feast,” Jace said, raising his goblet.
“You may have wondered what a shame it would be that all the leftovers will be thrown away. Well, this would never be, because all that is left will be brought to the people of the city, to feed those that need it most.”
You gasped.
Applause sounded, and there were guests aplenty cheering. All of this commotion made it easier for you to do what you did next. You turned to him, stood on your tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek. He let out a breath of surprise; you felt it on your face, but the color that rose to his face told you that it was not an ill-received action. “I should thank you,” he said to only you, “for making me see things differently.”
“It did not require much effort of mine,” you said, thinking of that day at the orchard. “I just told you what I thought.”
“Exactly,” he said.
There was a scraping noise in the back. “Let us raise our cups to the most legitimate heir there ever was,” yelled a man. He had hair that was combed into a ponytail, but it was like to be disheveled before. White streaked his hair, and something told you that it was not old age that caused it.
A resounding silence filled the room.
“Ulf,” Jace said firmly. He looked stiff, like he had anger to contain.
Ulf laughed. “It was a jest, that was all.”
The air in your throat went dry. You turned to Jace, whose eyes bore into the crowd, at the one man in particular. “Jace,” you whispered, to which he broke his gaze to look at you. “Do you trust me?”
He nodded. “Yes. Yes, and then some.”
Even with his assurance, you could feel your heart beating twice as fast as before.
You faced the crowd and picked up your own goblet. It was almost as if you were dancing, except you did not know what steps to take. With this foolish improvisation, there was no one to guide you.
You felt a hand at your back, and then all your words came to you.
“Yes, let us raise our cups to the Prince, who has been well acquainted with battle, with ending the war. The way that we met was by his seeking of alliance for Queen Rhaenyra.” Briefly, you turned to her, and shared a smile. “And that is only one example of his diplomacy. He will not be an heir forever, but a king, and he has the practice and the spirit aplenty for that.”
The crowd stood up and roared; you could see Cregan Stark’s affirming face in the distance, as well as Lady Jeyne Arryn’s. Jacaerys looked stunned, his face going blank for a second, before he cleared his throat. “With such lively guests, we cannot delay the dancing anymore,” he announced.
The music started again, and many people rushed to the floor.
You and Jace sat down.
“That was— my love, I…”
“You need not be surprised," you said. “‘Tis only true.”
“I am,” he reaffirmed. “I am, I am, I am.”
A few people got up at the end of your table. It was the ladies Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena, who walked up to you at the other side of the table.
“This song is my favorite,” Helaena said. “Would you like to join us?”
“I would,” you said. “Can I invite a friend?”
“Of course,” Baela said, as she and Rhaena gave you their arms.
Soon, you were in a circle with them and Roesaynne, spinning around to the music. The joy on each of their faces and on yours… You had missed this.
“Can I join?” a voice from beside you said. It was Marsella.
As you and Roesaynne made space for her, you saw Thimbus and Dannis shaking each other in the corner, and Gunther talking to a lady at a table. You must have been distracted, because you bumped into someone behind you.
“Oh, pardon, my lady. Or, my Princess, or consort.” Ulf had brought his wine, and now it dribbled down his chin. He brought the goblet below his mouth and wiped the wine away. “Future queen, and—”
You could not help but feel disgust. “Sir Ulf,” you said punctually. “I trust you are enjoying the music?”
“Oh yes, very very.” He belched then, and only half-covered it.
“Your remark earlier was quite… bold.”
“Ha! I was expecting at least a few laughs.”
You pursed your lips. “If you, or anyone else makes any more of its kind, then I will see that justice is served. That will stop those remarks from ever being able to have been made.”
In his chambers, Jacaerys shut the door behind you, quieting the noise of the guests. Even though there was no bedding ceremony, a few of them followed you all the way to the doors. A woman behind the door shouted something, and a fit of laughter followed.
You laughed, and then Jace joined in, joining you by the wall.
“The nobles seem to be more enthusiastic about this than us,” you joked.
“That is wholly wrong,” Jace said. He took your hands in his and caressed your palms. “I am glad to be in your privacy.”
“You flatter me.”
“‘Tis only true.”
A moment of silence passed between you. Even with the fireplace across the room, the air was hot, or maybe it was just your body. Fit for a prince, the room was spacious with a large canopy bed, white linens draping from the ceiling. There was a small loveseat in front of the bed, and next to that, a side table. A large bookshelf stood between the window and the fireplace which was filled to the brim. Ancient Valyrian texts, you guessed on the history and language.
You let go of his hands to adjust your sleeves, but felt discontent with the tightness of them. You noticed how tight your kirtle was too, as well as the rest of your gown. You reached to undo the lacings at your back, but your hands struggled at the awkward angle.
You sighed. “Jace, could you—”
“Yes,” he said. He walked behind you and untied the laces, loosening the garment from your body. He pulled at the top of your sleeve to take the rest of the gown off, until you were only in the chemise. One by one, he took out the pins in your hair and placed them on the table closest to you.
“Would you want…” you trailed off, but were assured by Jace’s vigorous nod. His lacings were similar, at the sides instead of the back, with many, many eyelets. Once he was only in his tunic and breeches, you crossed your arms. You were not used to being in such sheer fabric with a man. You flushed as you remembered that you had seen each other like this once.
“I am curious…” you said, taking a pin and tucking it into his curls.
Jace chuckled and reached up to touch it. “I am not sure sapphire is my stone as much as it is yours, Princess.”
“No matter, it is still pretty.” Then, you took it out of his hair and put it on the table. Your hand reached to where the pin was, rearranging the section of curls. It was easy to get lost in the touch of another, you thought.
“Could we have a moment to talk?” Jace asked, gesturing towards the loveseat.
“Of course,” you said. “I… I have some things I wish to say to you as well.” You could not think of the bed just yet, and although the anticipation was pleasant, it felt rushed. In truth you have many things to say to him. And to kiss him, thoroughly, since that knowledge seemed earned by now. You knew many things about him: His preference for silver adornments instead of gold, how he would be wont to spend his time with his dragon and histories, and how he enjoyed his council meetings from time to time. But there was still more to learn.
“You spoke up for me, twice.”
“I did,” you said. “You are my husband, what else was I to do?”
Jace blushed and looked down. “Did Ulf say anything to offend you?”
“No. But do his words still leave a mark on you?”
“Less so than before,” Jace said genuinely. “There was plenty to distract from that. I saw you today, dancing with my cousins and aunt. You enjoyed their presence, I hope?”
“I did,” you said. “I loved them being here, thank you, Jace.”
“It was hardly any effort of mine,” he said. “Your beauty… is divine, and today, surrounded by your friends and acquaintances— you possessed the most beautiful divinity. I saw it, and I know this. I only wish to see you happier still.”
“What am I to say to that?” you asked lightheartedly.
“I had something made for you,” he said, reaching into the table’s drawer and handing an item to you. It was a small package encased in silk wrappings. You unwrapped it, and gasped once you saw the pendant hanging from a silver chain. Your initials were engraved on the face of the locket, and when you opened it, you saw that one side was the Frey sigil, sapphires and moonstones marking the blue and grey, and the other side the Targaryen sigil, with rubies for the red of the dragon.
“Would you like to wear it now?”
You nodded.
As he put the necklace on you, you noticed that it was not his closeness that made you nervous, but the act in its simplicity itself. You touched the pendant, which felt calming to the touch. Then, you got up to get your gift in the pocket of your gown.
“Where are you going?” Jace asked.
You said nothing, only smiling at him as you bent down to reach your hand in your pocket. “This… is for you,” you said, walking over to him.
It was a small handkerchief, but you had tried to be as detailed as you could with his face, his attire, and his dragon. You were not sure if it was just your eyes, but the colors seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. You handed it to him.
Jace let out a small gasp. “It is so beautiful I almost do not want to use it,” he said.
“Use it.” You closed his palm that was holding the cloth and placed your own palm on his knuckles. “I want you to.”
Jace smiled, his face alight and warm as your face turned more serious. You took your time looking at his face. You realized a simple truth: Love had attraction under its wing. “You have only become more handsome in the time I have known you. I never envisioned that I would marry so special a man, much less a prince. You have brought so many joys into my life and have encouraged me to call upon those of my past. I… am grateful for this. For you.” You took his hand and kissed it gently, hoping that this was a claiming of sorts. An assertion that his hand was yours alone to hold, to kiss, and to protect you from the horrors of the realm.
“My Princess.”
“My name, Jace.”
His eyes found yours in a stare that made you blush. He said your name, a certain divinity to it. Fleetingly, his lips stamped onto yours before he pulled away. It was much like the kiss you shared hours ago, a kiss for when you knew the person well and the curvature of their lips. But you did not know. And you yearned to.
“My love,” Jacaerys said.
There was no doubt that his mouth was particularly beautiful, his lips plump and mesmerizing. You looked at him; he nodded. It was your time to lean in and bring your lips upon his.
Your eyes shut on instinct, a sign that you were truly engaged. You opened your eyes just a smidge to see if Jace’s were closed as well, and indeed they were. It was a distorted image, Jace’s face being so close to yours, and this proximity made your mind spin. Only in a kiss were you blind to the form of your partner. That was a vulnerability in itself. Your lips searched his for something of an answer as you began to wonder, at what point does a pair of lips become your beloved’s mouth, or attraction morph into a solid love?
You shifted closer, folding one leg and slinging it over his hip so that you were seated on his lap. Jace moaned, and put a hand on your own hip.
Jace brushed his tongue against the seam of your lips, and you opened your mouth. His lips opened for you like a rose, sweet and blooming. The heat was overwhelming, and yet, a gentle warmth pooled into your bones. And then you thought again about the difference between comfort and intimacy, and how the bridge between the two was formed. Love, you thought, plain and simple. To be held was to be kept, and not in a way of imprisonment. It took a tender heart to show that, one reason why he was your beloved.
You wanted to plaster the whole of yourself onto him. Without another thought, you pulled away, breathing, “May I try something?”
Jace nodded.
You kissed along his jawline, down to the hollow of his neck and over its expanse, and paused when he gasped. Smiling, you kissed him again at that same spot until you created a bloom of red. Jace let out a sweet whimper.
“You are quite vocal,” you said, pulling away.
“You overwhelm me, my love,” he said. “Would you… want to move to the bed?” Jace asked, swallowing.
You were entranced by the rise and fall of his Adam's apple, but you also noticed his eyes scan down your body. This left you feeling vulnerable, but to feel this way for him, and he for you, was what you wanted.
“I want you,” he said, and his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “I mean to say… I need you, if you’ll have me.”
“Yes. Yes, I love you, Jace.”
He leaned in close and pressed his forehead to yours. His heated breath sent a chill down your spine as he whispered, “I… I adore you.”
You kissed each other again, short pecks, with small intakes of air before the press of skin.
As you parted, you asked, trying to collect yourself. “Will this be your first time as well?”
Jace smiled and looked down. “Yes. I know that it is painful, the first time, for a maiden.”
“I know. I am frightened a little; I mean no offense.” Even with this declaration, you needed to feel him more intimately, to lie with him.
He cupped your face. “None taken. Whatever you need, I shall give. I hope to make you feel good, my lady.”
“And I, you.”
He took your hand and kissed it, then stood and led you over to the bed. You held his thrumming wrist, your thumb pressing against the artery that told you that he had a pulse. Then, Jace lifted you by the waist and placed you onto the bed.
It was easy to peel away the soft linens of his tunic and breeches. You caressed his waist with your thumbs, taking in the sight in front of you. His nude body was a vision, captivating and precious. It was him that you found security in.
Then, laughter. You look at him, then down at his hands. Your chemise was halfway up, and he meant to take it off you.
“Oh, I am sorry.” As you raised your arms, a few giggles escaped you.
Jacaerys smiled and shook his head. Then, he undid the laces of your chemise and lifted the garment over you. Once he tossed it to the side and looked at you, his smile clouded over. A look of awe swept across his face. You shared this look with him, which felt like more than a kiss or a bedding, awaiting for all that was to come.
summary: the wedding, and the wedding night 👑❤️💞💖💝❣️💓
notes: happy new year 🥳 and last chapter! i really enjoyed writing this chapter and this fic overall. ik the updates took a really long time, thank you to everyone that reads it 🩷 this has been my 16.5k love letter to jacaerys velaryon and now it is complete!
You concentrated on finishing your wedding gift for Jacaerys. Most of it was finished, the shining threads that showed some of his likeness and his dragon’s. Though you did have to finish it today, part of the reason why you were up so early was to distract yourself from the arrival of Roesaynne. It would be several hours until you would see her, and the anticipation made you nervous. As you were embroidering the final thread, you heard a knock at the door.
“Yes?”
Fara and your other handmaidens walked through the door, carrying everything you would need for the day. One handmaiden was carrying a kirtle, a new chemise, and stockings. Another was holding sapphire pins for your hair that glittered in the morning light. Fara held your ivory gown. The sight of it all overwhelmed you. Today, your life would be changed forever.
There he was; he wore a high-collared burgundy doublet, with puffed sleeves that tapered at the elbow. His signature shoulder cape made you smile. You could not look for Roesaynne right now. There were many people in the Throne Room: Cregan Stark, Jeyne Arryn, the Lannisters, Tyrells, and the rest of the great houses of Westeros. Looking at the garments the nobles wore, you recognized some of the sigils of the vassal houses: The fist of House Glover, the star and moon of House Tarth, the merman of House Manderly, and many more. There were more than several young ladies looking at Jace, but he was only looking at you.
Your father stood to your left. He nodded at you, began to walk, and then you followed him to your Prince.
Jacaerys cloaked you, half in the colors of House Frey and half in the colors of House Targaryen. The High Septon spoke and instructed you to speak your vows. Jace cupped your face and leaned in until you could see nothing but shadows. Before he kissed you, you could see him smiling, which you mirrored, even for the second that his lips were on yours.
He whispered in your ear. “I cannot look away.”
“Then don’t,” you whispered back.
When you both pulled away, a feeling of dizziness overcame you, but it dissipated as you said your vows.
It was a beautiful day outside, the sun lighting up the tables and the decorations. There were fools aplenty walking around as everyone settled into their seats. Jace led you to the front table, and his mother, cousins, and aunt sat next to him. Even though there was the sound of the lute, the harp, and the drums, there was no dancing yet.
Your eyes scanned the guests’ tables, but there were too many of them to see what you were looking for. In your memory, she oft times wore pinks and blues, and as soon as you looked for those colors, you found her.
“My Princess,” Jace said next to you.
Turning your head, you smiled and flushed at his address. “I am still getting used to that title.”
“May I take you to dance?”
“I have something I must take care of first. Will you join me after?”
Jacaerys nodded and brought your hand to his lips to kiss it.
You let your eyes linger on him for a moment, before a brief chuckle escaped you. You could feel your giddiness bleeding through to your expression, and your Prince matched this.
You got up and walked towards Roesaynne. She was seated at one of the tables on the far left, chatting with her family. She had the same golden-brown hair that curled at the ends, only longer now, and styled half-up. You felt more nervous than you had all day, and you realized that most of the nervousness was not wholly because of the wedding, but also partly because of this.
You opened your mouth to speak, but then she got up. For a moment, you felt awkward standing there, thinking that she was getting up to walk away from you, but she then walked in your direction.
“Roesaynne,” you said, but that was all you were able to say before she hugged you tight.
“You and I were girls when we last saw each other,” she whispered. “But now I am only a lady, and you are the Princess.”
“I am still a lady,” you said, smiling. “Do you wish our stations reversed?”
“No, I cannot have that many eyes upon me.”
“In truth, I do not think so of myself, either.”
“No one can be such a rank alone,” Roesaynne said, looking at Jacaerys. He was standing at a table, talking to Prince Qoren Martell, who was gesticulating enthusiastically. Your husband laughed as a fire dancer swished his staff in front of him.
“I know,” you said, turning to Roesaynne. “You must visit, now that the peace has finally settled.”
“I am not one to invite myself over, but I wanted to ask the same thing.”
“I think you are wrong about the first part.” You grinned.
You both doubled over, a pair of laughing girls again.
A little while later, you walked over to Jace. When he turned to you, you held your arm out, and you did not have to say a thing; he took it and led you over to the dance floor. You knew this dance from the few feasts you had attended in your past. But there was a certain elegance to the way that Jace moved, much like what you had observed from his sword fighting. After a minute, you were not sure if it was him leading or you. Both your steps mirrored the other.
“You spoke to Roesaynne?” Your husband said. Everyone was back at their tables, including you. Your plate had been filled with roast duck, peas, dates, and ale pie. Roesaynne was back at her table, eating.
You nodded and placed your fork down. “Yes. I… I missed her.”
“Do you regret my suggestion?”
“Not at all,” you said. “It was the right choice, I think.”
“You are sure?”
You nodded.
“Good,” Jace said softly, before a moment of silence passed over you. Then, he raised his goblet and stood up. The music stopped. “The Princess and I hope that you have enjoyed your feast,” Jace said, raising his goblet.
“You may have wondered what a shame it would be that all the leftovers will be thrown away. Well, this would never be, because all that is left will be brought to the people of the city, to feed those that need it most.”
You gasped.
Applause sounded, and there were guests aplenty cheering. All of this commotion made it easier for you to do what you did next. You turned to him, stood on your tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek. He let out a breath of surprise; you felt it on your face, but the color that rose to his face told you that it was not an ill-received action. “I should thank you,” he said to only you, “for making me see things differently.”
“It did not require much effort of mine,” you said, thinking of that day at the orchard. “I just told you what I thought.”
“Exactly,” he said.
There was a scraping noise in the back. “Let us raise our cups to the most legitimate heir there ever was,” yelled a man. He had hair that was combed into a ponytail, but it was like to be disheveled before. White streaked his hair, and something told you that it was not old age that caused it.
A resounding silence filled the room.
“Ulf,” Jace said firmly. He looked stiff, like he had anger to contain.
Ulf laughed. “It was a jest, that was all.”
The air in your throat went dry. You turned to Jace, whose eyes bore into the crowd, at the one man in particular. “Jace,” you whispered, to which he broke his gaze to look at you. “Do you trust me?”
He nodded. “Yes. Yes, and then some.”
Even with his assurance, you could feel your heart beating twice as fast as before.
You faced the crowd and picked up your own goblet. It was almost as if you were dancing, except you did not know what steps to take. With this foolish improvisation, there was no one to guide you.
You felt a hand at your back, and then all your words came to you.
“Yes, let us raise our cups to the Prince, who has been well acquainted with battle, with ending the war. The way that we met was by his seeking of alliance for Queen Rhaenyra.” Briefly, you turned to her, and shared a smile. “And that is only one example of his diplomacy. He will not be an heir forever, but a king, and he has the practice and the spirit aplenty for that.”
The crowd stood up and roared; you could see Cregan Stark’s affirming face in the distance, as well as Lady Jeyne Arryn’s. Jacaerys looked stunned, his face going blank for a second, before he cleared his throat. “With such lively guests, we cannot delay the dancing anymore,” he announced.
The music started again, and many people rushed to the floor.
You and Jace sat down.
“That was— my love, I…”
“You need not be surprised," you said. “‘Tis only true.”
“I am,” he reaffirmed. “I am, I am, I am.”
A few people got up at the end of your table. It was the ladies Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena, who walked up to you at the other side of the table.
“This song is my favorite,” Helaena said. “Would you like to join us?”
“I would,” you said. “Can I invite a friend?”
“Of course,” Baela said, as she and Rhaena gave you their arms.
Soon, you were in a circle with them and Roesaynne, spinning around to the music. The joy on each of their faces and on yours… You had missed this.
“Can I join?” a voice from beside you said. It was Marsella.
As you and Roesaynne made space for her, you saw Thimbus and Dannis shaking each other in the corner, and Gunther talking to a lady at a table. You must have been distracted, because you bumped into someone behind you.
“Oh, pardon, my lady. Or, my Princess, or consort.” Ulf had brought his wine, and now it dribbled down his chin. He brought the goblet below his mouth and wiped the wine away. “Future queen, and—”
You could not help but feel disgust. “Sir Ulf,” you said punctually. “I trust you are enjoying the music?”
“Oh yes, very very.” He belched then, and only half-covered it.
“Your remark earlier was quite… bold.”
“Ha! I was expecting at least a few laughs.”
You pursed your lips. “If you, or anyone else makes any more of its kind, then I will see that justice is served. That will stop those remarks from ever being able to have been made.”
In his chambers, Jacaerys shut the door behind you, quieting the noise of the guests. Even though there was no bedding ceremony, a few of them followed you all the way to the doors. A woman behind the door shouted something, and a fit of laughter followed.
You laughed, and then Jace joined in, joining you by the wall.
“The nobles seem to be more enthusiastic about this than us,” you joked.
“That is wholly wrong,” Jace said. He took your hands in his and caressed your palms. “I am glad to be in your privacy.”
“You flatter me.”
“‘Tis only true.”
A moment of silence passed between you. Even with the fireplace across the room, the air was hot, or maybe it was just your body. Fit for a prince, the room was spacious with a large canopy bed, white linens draping from the ceiling. There was a small loveseat in front of the bed, and next to that, a side table. A large bookshelf stood between the window and the fireplace which was filled to the brim. Ancient Valyrian texts, you guessed on the history and language.
You let go of his hands to adjust your sleeves, but felt discontent with the tightness of them. You noticed how tight your kirtle was too, as well as the rest of your gown. You reached to undo the lacings at your back, but your hands struggled at the awkward angle.
You sighed. “Jace, could you—”
“Yes,” he said. He walked behind you and untied the laces, loosening the garment from your body. He pulled at the top of your sleeve to take the rest of the gown off, until you were only in the chemise. One by one, he took out the pins in your hair and placed them on the table closest to you.
“Would you want…” you trailed off, but were assured by Jace’s vigorous nod. His lacings were similar, at the sides instead of the back, with many, many eyelets. Once he was only in his tunic and breeches, you crossed your arms. You were not used to being in such sheer fabric with a man. You flushed as you remembered that you had seen each other like this once.
“I am curious…” you said, taking a pin and tucking it into his curls.
Jace chuckled and reached up to touch it. “I am not sure sapphire is my stone as much as it is yours, Princess.”
“No matter, it is still pretty.” Then, you took it out of his hair and put it on the table. Your hand reached to where the pin was, rearranging the section of curls. It was easy to get lost in the touch of another, you thought.
“Could we have a moment to talk?” Jace asked, gesturing towards the loveseat.
“Of course,” you said. “I… I have some things I wish to say to you as well.” You could not think of the bed just yet, and although the anticipation was pleasant, it felt rushed. In truth you have many things to say to him. And to kiss him, thoroughly, since that knowledge seemed earned by now. You knew many things about him: His preference for silver adornments instead of gold, how he would be wont to spend his time with his dragon and histories, and how he enjoyed his council meetings from time to time. But there was still more to learn.
“You spoke up for me, twice.”
“I did,” you said. “You are my husband, what else was I to do?”
Jace blushed and looked down. “Did Ulf say anything to offend you?”
“No. But do his words still leave a mark on you?”
“Less so than before,” Jace said genuinely. “There was plenty to distract from that. I saw you today, dancing with my cousins and aunt. You enjoyed their presence, I hope?”
“I did,” you said. “I loved them being here, thank you, Jace.”
“It was hardly any effort of mine,” he said. “Your beauty… is divine, and today, surrounded by your friends and acquaintances— you possessed the most beautiful divinity. I saw it, and I know this. I only wish to see you happier still.”
“What am I to say to that?” you asked lightheartedly.
“I had something made for you,” he said, reaching into the table’s drawer and handing an item to you. It was a small package encased in silk wrappings. You unwrapped it, and gasped once you saw the pendant hanging from a silver chain. Your initials were engraved on the face of the locket, and when you opened it, you saw that one side was the Frey sigil, sapphires and moonstones marking the blue and grey, and the other side the Targaryen sigil, with rubies for the red of the dragon.
“Would you like to wear it now?”
You nodded.
As he put the necklace on you, you noticed that it was not his closeness that made you nervous, but the act in its simplicity itself. You touched the pendant, which felt calming to the touch. Then, you got up to get your gift in the pocket of your gown.
“Where are you going?” Jace asked.
You said nothing, only smiling at him as you bent down to reach your hand in your pocket. “This… is for you,” you said, walking over to him.
It was a small handkerchief, but you had tried to be as detailed as you could with his face, his attire, and his dragon. You were not sure if it was just your eyes, but the colors seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. You handed it to him.
Jace let out a small gasp. “It is so beautiful I almost do not want to use it,” he said.
“Use it.” You closed his palm that was holding the cloth and placed your own palm on his knuckles. “I want you to.”
Jace smiled, his face alight and warm as your face turned more serious. You took your time looking at his face. You realized a simple truth: Love had attraction under its wing. “You have only become more handsome in the time I have known you. I never envisioned that I would marry so special a man, much less a prince. You have brought so many joys into my life and have encouraged me to call upon those of my past. I… am grateful for this. For you.” You took his hand and kissed it gently, hoping that this was a claiming of sorts. An assertion that his hand was yours alone to hold, to kiss, and to protect you from the horrors of the realm.
“My Princess.”
“My name, Jace.”
His eyes found yours in a stare that made you blush. He said your name, a certain divinity to it. Fleetingly, his lips stamped onto yours before he pulled away. It was much like the kiss you shared hours ago, a kiss for when you knew the person well and the curvature of their lips. But you did not know. And you yearned to.
“My love,” Jacaerys said.
There was no doubt that his mouth was particularly beautiful, his lips plump and mesmerizing. You looked at him; he nodded. It was your time to lean in and bring your lips upon his.
Your eyes shut on instinct, a sign that you were truly engaged. You opened your eyes just a smidge to see if Jace’s were closed as well, and indeed they were. It was a distorted image, Jace’s face being so close to yours, and this proximity made your mind spin. Only in a kiss were you blind to the form of your partner. That was a vulnerability in itself. Your lips searched his for something of an answer as you began to wonder, at what point does a pair of lips become your beloved’s mouth, or attraction morph into a solid love?
You shifted closer, folding one leg and slinging it over his hip so that you were seated on his lap. Jace moaned, and put a hand on your own hip.
Jace brushed his tongue against the seam of your lips, and you opened your mouth. His lips opened for you like a rose, sweet and blooming. The heat was overwhelming, and yet, a gentle warmth pooled into your bones. And then you thought again about the difference between comfort and intimacy, and how the bridge between the two was formed. Love, you thought, plain and simple. To be held was to be kept, and not in a way of imprisonment. It took a tender heart to show that, one reason why he was your beloved.
You wanted to plaster the whole of yourself onto him. Without another thought, you pulled away, breathing, “May I try something?”
Jace nodded.
You kissed along his jawline, down to the hollow of his neck and over its expanse, and paused when he gasped. Smiling, you kissed him again at that same spot until you created a bloom of red. Jace let out a sweet whimper.
“You are quite vocal,” you said, pulling away.
“You overwhelm me, my love,” he said. “Would you… want to move to the bed?” Jace asked, swallowing.
You were entranced by the rise and fall of his Adam's apple, but you also noticed his eyes scan down your body. This left you feeling vulnerable, but to feel this way for him, and he for you, was what you wanted.
“I want you,” he said, and his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “I mean to say… I need you, if you’ll have me.”
“Yes. Yes, I love you, Jace.”
He leaned in close and pressed his forehead to yours. His heated breath sent a chill down your spine as he whispered, “I… I adore you.”
You kissed each other again, short pecks, with small intakes of air before the press of skin.
As you parted, you asked, trying to collect yourself. “Will this be your first time as well?”
Jace smiled and looked down. “Yes. I know that it is painful, the first time, for a maiden.”
“I know. I am frightened a little; I mean no offense.” Even with this declaration, you needed to feel him more intimately, to lie with him.
He cupped your face. “None taken. Whatever you need, I shall give. I hope to make you feel good, my lady.”
“And I, you.”
He took your hand and kissed it, then stood and led you over to the bed. You held his thrumming wrist, your thumb pressing against the artery that told you that he had a pulse. Then, Jace lifted you by the waist and placed you onto the bed.
It was easy to peel away the soft linens of his tunic and breeches. You caressed his waist with your thumbs, taking in the sight in front of you. His nude body was a vision, captivating and precious. It was him that you found security in.
Then, laughter. You look at him, then down at his hands. Your chemise was halfway up, and he meant to take it off you.
“Oh, I am sorry.” As you raised your arms, a few giggles escaped you.
Jacaerys smiled and shook his head. Then, he undid the laces of your chemise and lifted the garment over you. Once he tossed it to the side and looked at you, his smile clouded over. A look of awe swept across his face. You shared this look with him, which felt like more than a kiss or a bedding, awaiting for all that was to come.
hii guys, i know its been a while since i've updated, but the finale chapter of an alliance in waiting will be up in a few hours 🩷💓💞💖💝❣️ i really enjoyed writing this chapter and hopefully you guys like it too!
You had only woken an hour ago, but already the rate of your heart was quick and unrelenting. The efforts to still its beating went undone. You tapped your shoes on the stone floor in a continuous pattern.
“You need not worry.”
“She is the Queen,” you countered.
Just then, the doors to the throne room burst open. A full court stood in the hall. No doubt countless houses from across the continent had travelled here for the wedding.
There was silence. Jacaerys looked at you, once, and then you knew that you should walk forward. He offered you his arm, which you took.
When you walked into the room, one of the knights announced your and Jace’s titles. Then, he announced the Queen’s. “Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”
The Queen sat up from the throne and walked towards the both of you. Her gaze was upon you when you and your betrothed bent the knee.
“My Queen,” you said.
“My Queen,” said Jace.
She walked beside her son and embraced him.
“Mother,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her.
You watched and smiled, though you did not go unattended for long.
Jacaerys let go of his mother and cleared his throat, offering you his arm again as he looked at you. “May I introduce you…”
Queen Rhaenyra nodded. “Lady Frey. It is an honor to meet you. I would like to have a conversation, in private.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
In the hallway, you walked with Queen Rhaenyra for a few paces before she spoke.
“As the future Queen-consort, you must have allies beside you. Ruling alongside another can be a lonely thing. Solitude begets disparity, which begets hate. My son, I hope, will provide you with the support you need to be a supporter of your own.”
These statements, you realized, were questions of what you thought of him. A feeling of ease overcame you then, softening your unease from before. You knew that it would be best to appease her. The truth was, you were not certain of Jacaerys’s commitment to you, however agreeable he had been so far.
“I am honored by this arrangement,” you said, speaking with all your confidence.
In your new room, you found Fara and your new handmaidens with a pile of fabric for your wedding gown. Your canopy bed had the curtains of the color of your house. There was a grand fireplace in the middle, with plush blue chairs and an expansive patterned rug. There seemed to be many other things to take care of, like putting fresh sheets on the bed and unpacking your trunks. When Fara reached to unbuckle your trunk, she looked red in the face from exhaustion. You walked towards her and helped her with the trunk.
“Do not worry,” you said. “I will take my things out later in the evening.”
Fara looked grateful, and thanked you with a nod.
Your handmaidens stood you on a stool, with the fabric draping downwards. You decided on a square neckline, puffed sleeves, a bodice embroidered with silver thread, and a pleated skirt.
One handmaiden added the last pin of the bodice.
“What would be done with the rest of the fabric?” you asked curiously.
“It would be disposed of, my lady.”
“You do not want it?” you asked, looking at all your handmaidens.
One of them laughed. “It is not for us.”
“Why shouldn’t it be?”
You were afraid you overstepped, until Fara spoke. “If your kindness is not in jest…”
“It is not. Please, take it.”
That night, Jacaerys requested a walk with you in the gardens. You agreed, pleased with the idea. Your handmaidens thanked you for the fabric again, and chose a gown and a wool cloak to keep you warm in the night air. Once you were dressed, you walked to the courtyard. The bushes and trees seemed to stand still, but every feeling within you did not. Still, you walked towards your betrothed with a calm gait, enjoying the way your footsteps declared your presence.
“You are becoming in this moonlight,” Jacaerys said.
“I think it is the moonlight that is becoming.” You laughed.
“No,” he said, smiling.
You walked in pace with each other for half an hour, but after you began to feel self-conscious, meek in comparison to Jace. This walk had sweetness in the moment, but what if it became just a memory of the past? Jacaerys could venture onto grander futures, leaving yourself to live alone in a plain way.
“Fara told me that you gave the remaining fabric to her and the other handmaidens.”
“I did.”
“That was very kind of you.”
He touched your arm, which reminded you of the game you introduced to him earlier. You took off, your cloak billowing behind you, and the wind rushing past your ears. A balcony overlooking the bay was just in front of you, so you decided to stop your jest once you reached it. There was the sound of footsteps coming from behind. He was beside you now, and you took the opportunity to touch his arm to pass it back. His hand was on your waist, an alluring warmth on the woolen fabric.
“I’ve got you,” he said. His gaze on you was thorough and confident.
A seagull landed on the calm waters, camouflaged in the blueness.
“Jace,” you said.
Jacaerys gave you a look that coaxed you.
“I do not know where to start, or how to phrase what I mean to tell you, and it is only in my head, I know that, but—”
“You do not need to preface, Lady Frey,” he said gently. “Speak what you feel.”
You widened your eyes at his encouraging tone. “If you knew you had a grander purpose, would you take to Vermax and pursue it?”
“I suppose I would. In what kind of situation?”
You spoke in a quiet voice. “I meant… After our marriage. If you had some obligation that would require you to take your leave, perhaps for a few months, or maybe more. I am sure you would have a solid reasoning. But… as yourself, there is endless access to the Realm. You… You could go anywhere.”
Jacaerys held your hands.
“I would have those duties, yes, but… My true duty lies with you, for always,” he said. “You are the heart of the Red Keep, of the Realm, and that I vow to never forget. I cannot predict what the future holds, but I know that you are for me, and I wish for us to go unparted. And if Vermax ever leads me astray, I will find my way back to you.”
Your face softened and your mouth went dry, at a loss for words. One look at him told you there was nothing more that needed to be said, so your forehead rested against his, and his breath invoked you with the greatest calmness.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
You had only woken an hour ago, but already the rate of your heart was quick and unrelenting. The efforts to still its beating went undone. You tapped your shoes on the stone floor in a continuous pattern.
“You need not worry.”
“She is the Queen,” you countered.
Just then, the doors to the throne room burst open. A full court stood in the hall. No doubt countless houses from across the continent had travelled here for the wedding.
There was silence. Jacaerys looked at you, once, and then you knew that you should walk forward. He offered you his arm, which you took.
When you walked into the room, one of the knights announced your and Jace’s titles. Then, he announced the Queen’s. “Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”
The Queen sat up from the throne and walked towards the both of you. Her gaze was upon you when you and your betrothed bent the knee.
“My Queen,” you said.
“My Queen,” said Jace.
She walked beside her son and embraced him.
“Mother,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her.
You watched and smiled, though you did not go unattended for long.
Jacaerys let go of his mother and cleared his throat, offering you his arm again as he looked at you. “May I introduce you…”
Queen Rhaenyra nodded. “Lady Frey. It is an honor to meet you. I would like to have a conversation, in private.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
In the hallway, you walked with Queen Rhaenyra for a few paces before she spoke.
“As the future Queen-consort, you must have allies beside you. Ruling alongside another can be a lonely thing. Solitude begets disparity, which begets hate. My son, I hope, will provide you with the support you need to be a supporter of your own.”
These statements, you realized, were questions of what you thought of him. A feeling of ease overcame you then, softening your unease from before. You knew that it would be best to appease her. The truth was, you were not certain of Jacaerys’s commitment to you, however agreeable he had been so far.
“I am honored by this arrangement,” you said, speaking with all your confidence.
In your new room, you found Fara and your new handmaidens with a pile of fabric for your wedding gown. Your canopy bed had the curtains of the color of your house. There was a grand fireplace in the middle, with plush blue chairs and an expansive patterned rug. There seemed to be many other things to take care of, like putting fresh sheets on the bed and unpacking your trunks. When Fara reached to unbuckle your trunk, she looked red in the face from exhaustion. You walked towards her and helped her with the trunk.
“Do not worry,” you said. “I will take my things out later in the evening.”
Fara looked grateful, and thanked you with a nod.
Your handmaidens stood you on a stool, with the fabric draping downwards. You decided on a square neckline, puffed sleeves, a bodice embroidered with silver thread, and a pleated skirt.
One handmaiden added the last pin of the bodice.
“What would be done with the rest of the fabric?” you asked curiously.
“It would be disposed of, my lady.”
“You do not want it?” you asked, looking at all your handmaidens.
One of them laughed. “It is not for us.”
“Why shouldn’t it be?”
You were afraid you overstepped, until Fara spoke. “If your kindness is not in jest…”
“It is not. Please, take it.”
That night, Jacaerys requested a walk with you in the gardens. You agreed, pleased with the idea. Your handmaidens thanked you for the fabric again, and chose a gown and a wool cloak to keep you warm in the night air. Once you were dressed, you walked to the courtyard. The bushes and trees seemed to stand still, but every feeling within you did not. Still, you walked towards your betrothed with a calm gait, enjoying the way your footsteps declared your presence.
“You are becoming in this moonlight,” Jacaerys said.
“I think it is the moonlight that is becoming.” You laughed.
“No,” he said, smiling.
You walked in pace with each other for half an hour, but after you began to feel self-conscious, meek in comparison to Jace. This walk had sweetness in the moment, but what if it became just a memory of the past? Jacaerys could venture onto grander futures, leaving yourself to live alone in a plain way.
“Fara told me that you gave the remaining fabric to her and the other handmaidens.”
“I did.”
“That was very kind of you.”
He touched your arm, which reminded you of the game you introduced to him earlier. You took off, your cloak billowing behind you, and the wind rushing past your ears. A balcony overlooking the bay was just in front of you, so you decided to stop your jest once you reached it. There was the sound of footsteps coming from behind. He was beside you now, and you took the opportunity to touch his arm to pass it back. His hand was on your waist, an alluring warmth on the woolen fabric.
“I’ve got you,” he said. His gaze on you was thorough and confident.
A seagull landed on the calm waters, camouflaged in the blueness.
“Jace,” you said.
Jacaerys gave you a look that coaxed you.
“I do not know where to start, or how to phrase what I mean to tell you, and it is only in my head, I know that, but—”
“You do not need to preface, Lady Frey,” he said gently. “Speak what you feel.”
You widened your eyes at his encouraging tone. “If you knew you had a grander purpose, would you take to Vermax and pursue it?”
“I suppose I would. In what kind of situation?”
You spoke in a quiet voice. “I meant… After our marriage. If you had some obligation that would require you to take your leave, perhaps for a few months, or maybe more. I am sure you would have a solid reasoning. But… as yourself, there is endless access to the Realm. You… You could go anywhere.”
Jacaerys held your hands.
“I would have those duties, yes, but… My true duty lies with you, for always,” he said. “You are the heart of the Red Keep, of the Realm, and that I vow to never forget. I cannot predict what the future holds, but I know that you are for me, and I wish for us to go unparted. And if Vermax ever leads me astray, I will find my way back to you.”
Your face softened and your mouth went dry, at a loss for words. One look at him told you there was nothing more that needed to be said, so your forehead rested against his, and his breath invoked you with the greatest calmness.
You had only woken an hour ago, but already the rate of your heart was quick and unrelenting. The efforts to still its beating went undone. You tapped your shoes on the stone floor in a continuous pattern.
“You need not worry.”
“She is the Queen,” you countered.
Just then, the doors to the throne room burst open. A full court stood in the hall. No doubt countless houses from across the continent had travelled here for the wedding.
There was silence. Jacaerys looked at you, once, and then you knew that you should walk forward. He offered you his arm, which you took.
When you walked into the room, one of the knights announced your and Jace’s titles. Then, he announced the Queen’s. “Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”
The Queen sat up from the throne and walked towards the both of you. Her gaze was upon you when you and your betrothed bent the knee.
“My Queen,” you said.
“My Queen,” said Jace.
She walked beside her son and embraced him.
“Mother,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her.
You watched and smiled, though you did not go unattended for long.
Jacaerys let go of his mother and cleared his throat, offering you his arm again as he looked at you. “May I introduce you…”
Queen Rhaenyra nodded. “Lady Frey. It is an honor to meet you. I would like to have a conversation, in private.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
In the hallway, you walked with Queen Rhaenyra for a few paces before she spoke.
“As the future Queen-consort, you must have allies beside you. Ruling alongside another can be a lonely thing. Solitude begets disparity, which begets hate. My son, I hope, will provide you with the support you need to be a supporter of your own.”
These statements, you realized, were questions of what you thought of him. A feeling of ease overcame you then, softening your unease from before. You knew that it would be best to appease her. The truth was, you were not certain of Jacaerys’s commitment to you, however agreeable he had been so far.
“I am honored by this arrangement,” you said, speaking with all your confidence.
In your new room, you found Fara and your new handmaidens with a pile of fabric for your wedding gown. Your canopy bed had the curtains of the color of your house. There was a grand fireplace in the middle, with plush blue chairs and an expansive patterned rug. There seemed to be many other things to take care of, like putting fresh sheets on the bed and unpacking your trunks. When Fara reached to unbuckle your trunk, she looked red in the face from exhaustion. You walked towards her and helped her with the trunk.
“Do not worry,” you said. “I will take my things out later in the evening.”
Fara looked grateful, and thanked you with a nod.
Your handmaidens stood you on a stool, with the fabric draping downwards. You decided on a square neckline, puffed sleeves, a bodice embroidered with silver thread, and a pleated skirt.
One handmaiden added the last pin of the bodice.
“What would be done with the rest of the fabric?” you asked curiously.
“It would be disposed of, my lady.”
“You do not want it?” you asked, looking at all your handmaidens.
One of them laughed. “It is not for us.”
“Why shouldn’t it be?”
You were afraid you overstepped, until Fara spoke. “If your kindness is not in jest…”
“It is not. Please, take it.”
That night, Jacaerys requested a walk with you in the gardens. You agreed, pleased with the idea. Your handmaidens thanked you for the fabric again, and chose a gown and a wool cloak to keep you warm in the night air. Once you were dressed, you walked to the courtyard. The bushes and trees seemed to stand still, but every feeling within you did not. Still, you walked towards your betrothed with a calm gait, enjoying the way your footsteps declared your presence.
“You are becoming in this moonlight,” Jacaerys said.
“I think it is the moonlight that is becoming.” You laughed.
“No,” he said, smiling.
You walked in pace with each other for half an hour, but after you began to feel self-conscious, meek in comparison to Jace. This walk had sweetness in the moment, but what if it became just a memory of the past? Jacaerys could venture onto grander futures, leaving yourself to live alone in a plain way.
“Fara told me that you gave the remaining fabric to her and the other handmaidens.”
“I did.”
“That was very kind of you.”
He touched your arm, which reminded you of the game you introduced to him earlier. You took off, your cloak billowing behind you, and the wind rushing past your ears. A balcony overlooking the bay was just in front of you, so you decided to stop your jest once you reached it. There was the sound of footsteps coming from behind. He was beside you now, and you took the opportunity to touch his arm to pass it back. His hand was on your waist, an alluring warmth on the woolen fabric.
“I’ve got you,” he said. His gaze on you was thorough and confident.
A seagull landed on the calm waters, camouflaged in the blueness.
“Jace,” you said.
Jacaerys gave you a look that coaxed you.
“I do not know where to start, or how to phrase what I mean to tell you, and it is only in my head, I know that, but—”
“You do not need to preface, Lady Frey,” he said gently. “Speak what you feel.”
You widened your eyes at his encouraging tone. “If you knew you had a grander purpose, would you take to Vermax and pursue it?”
“I suppose I would. In what kind of situation?”
You spoke in a quiet voice. “I meant… After our marriage. If you had some obligation that would require you to take your leave, perhaps for a few months, or maybe more. I am sure you would have a solid reasoning. But… as yourself, there is endless access to the Realm. You… You could go anywhere.”
Jacaerys held your hands.
“I would have those duties, yes, but… My true duty lies with you, for always,” he said. “You are the heart of the Red Keep, of the Realm, and that I vow to never forget. I cannot predict what the future holds, but I know that you are for me, and I wish for us to go unparted. And if Vermax ever leads me astray, I will find my way back to you.”
Your face softened and your mouth went dry, at a loss for words. One look at him told you there was nothing more that needed to be said, so your forehead rested against his, and his breath invoked you with the greatest calmness.
turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
sugurugetos
gracieabrams
ellievsbear
blakekathryn
tangentwithtanner
