── ˖᯽ ݁˖ Summary: 🎶First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes something-in-between-that-Jena-has-a-bit-of-a-spiral-about, then comes baby in a golden carriage🎶
── ˖᯽ ݁˖ Pairings: Baelor Targaryen x Jena Dondarrion
── ˖᯽ ݁˖ Word count: 4500
── ˖᯽ ݁˖ Content: Canon divergence, all romantic characters are 18+, arranged marriage, slow burn, yearning, mention of sex
After Jena finished breakfast in her room, she was walking down the corridor on her way to meet Baelor, when Manfred exited his chambers, almost knocking her over. He slammed the door forcefully behind him, the sound reverberating off the stone castle walls.
His face was screwed up in vexation. Concerned, she enquired, “Are you quite well, brother?”
He answered her gruffly, “It’s Bree. She keeps harping on about wanting a break from Harmon. Isn’t she his mother? It’s her job to look after him. She wants me to take him and I have other more important things to do.”
Jena was aware that while Manfred did enjoy spending time with his son, he preferred the company of adults more. He was more than satisfied to leave the parenting of his offspring to Bree, or any other woman in the vicinity. Manfred was not a man to challenge the expectations of his position.
Jena said, “I would be happy to look after him. Shall I fetch him?”
Shrugging nonchalantly, he said, "Suit yourself, I care not.” Then he stalked away down the corridor. Jena spent a moment in gratitude that Baelor was a vastly different man to her brother.
Jena knocked on the door, and upon entering, she found Bree slumped in a chair with Harmon pulling roughly on her arm, "C'mon mother, please. I want to go outside."
When Harmon saw Jena, he let go of his mother’s arm, much to Bree's relief, and ran towards her, “Aunty! Aunty! Will you play with me?”
Bree did not look herself. Her face was starting to puff with the increased strain of pregnancy, and her features were generally miserable. She sighed, “I'm sorry Harmon. I’m so tired and I need to rest." Then to Jena she said, "I asked Manfred to spend some time with his son, but he refused. He’s too interested in rubbing shoulders with Princes, Knights and greater Lords. Please don’t feel like you need to take him. I will call the nanny and she can look after him.”
Jena answered Harmon first, “I would love to play with you, sweet boy. How about we find Prince Baelor and see what we can do today together?”
Harmon threw his small arms around her skirts and exclaimed, “Yes please Aunty! Yes please!”
Then Jena spoke to Bree, “I can see that you need rest, so I am very happy to take Harmon. I'd be delighted to spend time with him today.”
Bree tried to smile her thanks, but it came out as a pained grimace, “Don’t you want to spend time with your Prince, alone?”
Jena patted Harmon's head gently as he looked up eagerly into her face, “I suspect he will not mind if Harmon is with us for a time.”
Bree responded, somewhat sadly, “If that’s the case, he’s a better man than my husband.”
Jena and Harmon left his parent’s chambers and walked down the corridor together, hand-in-hand. At the end of the residential quarters, a flight of steps led down to a larger space where the training yard, great hall and kitchens could be accessed.
At the base of the stairs, they met Baelor who appeared to be on his way up into the residential quarters. He took in the merry sight of Jena and Harmon and it brought a smile to his face. He addressed Harmon genially, “Hello there, Master Harmon, I see you have found a pretty lady to escort through the castle.”
Harmon, suddenly shy at the attention of this esteemed Prince, said uncertainly with his eyes downcast, “Aunty said she would play with me today.”
Jena’s and Baelor’s eyes met, the remembrance of last night’s secret kiss burned into their brains. Jena felt that familiar heat rising in her cheeks under his gaze, “Bree is feeling unwell, so I offered to spend time with Harmon today. I hope that is okay?”
Coming to take her arm, he said, “Of course, My Lady. What do you have in mind? The weather outside is particularly pleasant today, so perhaps we could visit the gardens?”
Harmon piped up then, with renewed confidence, “Aunty, could we please go to the beach? Maybe I could get some shells for Mother to help her feel better?”
Jena winked at him, “That’s a wonderful idea Harmon.”
The three of them walked further along, Jena’s left arm linked through Baelor’s right and her right hand claimed by Harmon. Baelor and Jena shared a knowing look as they walked, both wondering when they would be able to share another kiss.
They soon came to Maekar, Dyanna and Daeron standing together. Maekar had Daeron slung over his shoulder, not unlike a sack of grain, while the little boy screeched cheerily. He was leaning into Dyanna, whispering something secret in her ear. Jena could see the love and fondness between them and it made her heart glad.
As they approached, Dyanna looked over at them, stifling a giggle, “Well, if I didn’t know any better I would think you three were a little family.”
Jena’s stomach gave a happy jolt at her soon-to-be sister-in-law’s suggestion. Baelor, also experiencing a similar elated feeling to Jena said, “We are on our way to the beach to give Lady Bree some much needed rest.”
Dyanna said, with a twinkle in her eye, “Oh that sounds like a wonderful idea. Husband dearest, why don’t you take Daeron, so I can also have some must needed rest?”
Maekar buried his face in his wife’s slender neck, and said in a desirous growl, “As you wish, My Lady.”
With Maekar and Daeron joining them, the party made their way down to the beach where Baelor and Jena had first met.
As they descended the staircase to access the beach, Jena noted that there were a few pathways down. When they arrived at the bottom she said quietly to Baelor, "I promise to leave my boots on today." The side of his mouth twitched and his eyebrow raised slightly at the memory.
Harmon took off running down the beach, throwing his hands in the air, yelling and twirling. Soon enough he tired of that and plopped down in the sand to build a sand castle. The others caught up to him and sat around him. Maekar put Daeron down in front of him. The moment he was free from his father's grasp he crawled over to Jena and sat in front of her, babbling happily. Sand covered his little chubby hands and Jena gently brushed it off.
Baelor helped Harmon build his castle, giving him tips on how to structure the battlements. Maekar chimed in to say he was doing it wrong and there was a friendly disagreement between the two of them.
It was a very pleasant morning. The wind had turned and was whipping the other side of the island, so the beach on this side was calm. The sun was filtering through the clouds, providing a soothing warmth. Even the sea was tranquil, with the waves caressing the sand, rather than beating it.
After the three gentleman had built the castle, Harmon announced that it needed decoration so he set off around them collecting shells and bits of seaweed.
Maekar looked over at Jena, who was watching Daeron closely to make sure no sand made it into his mouth and said, "Look at this kid. He's usually such a sullen fellow. Dyanna says its because he doesn't sleep well. But with you Jena, he is completely changed."
Jena intercepted a sand-filled fist from going into the little boy's mouth, "I wonder why that is. Poor thing." Then she gently tickled under his chin, causing a delightful little giggle to burst out of him.
Maekar breathed, conspiratorially, "Witchcraft, I tell you. Witchcraft."
A loud happy laugh burst out of Jena then and Baelor smiled. He had been watching her interact with Daeron and Harmon. Naturally women were expected to be caregivers of children, however many noblewomen were more than happy to delegate the more tedious aspects of the care to nannies and nursemaids. Jena appeared to be a woman who wanted to be more involved with children, and he hoped that would continue with their own.
A yawn escaped from Daeron and Maekar said, "Oh, that's my cue to go. Dyanna tells me yawns mean the baby has to sleep, so I best get him back to the castle." Scooping up his son, who protested a little bit at being taken away, he threw back over his shoulder, "You two behave yourselves."
"Bye baby Daeron!” Harmon called.
Baelor said to Harmon, "Harmon, when you are done with your castle, I wonder if you would like to see a dragon's cave?"
Harmon dropped the shells he had been holding, without a second thought. "Oh yes please! Aunty, do you want to come too?"
Jena got to her feet, dusting the sand off her dress, "You bet. Lead the way, good Ser!"
They walked to a far corner of the beach, where there was a huge opening slashed in the side of the cliff. Inside the shelter of the rock, along the walls were deposits of obsidian. If the sun had not been so bright, they would have struggled to see it.
Baelor said to Harmon, “So, Harmon, this is a dragon’s cave. Can you see the shiny rock there? It is supposed to have magic within it. They say that it was made by dragons in the time of the First Men. Maesters say it is from the earth, from the Dragonmont volcano. What do you think?”
Harmon had stepped forward to touch the rock. Jena followed him. Obsidian was usually black, but there were some smaller areas with green, purple and red dotted throughout. After a while of very serious contemplation he said, “I reckon it’s the dragons! It has to be! Magic comes from dragons, right?”
Baelor chuckled, “I think so too, Master Harmon. Would you like a piece to take home with you?”
“Oh yes yes yes yes!” He jumped up and down.
Baelor walked a little further into the cave, almost disappearing in its depths. Jena heard scraping and bumping sounds and then he reappeared. “There is a barrel back there with some pieces that have been broken off.” He presented Harmon with the traditional black piece which Harmon grabbed in happiness and danced around the cave with.
He came close to Jena, holding out a purple one, “I thought purple was fitting for a lady from House Dondarrion.”
She took it from him, deliberately trailing her fingers over his hand a little longer than she should have. Baelor noted that it didn’t shake like it did the last time they were on this beach. “Will I get a red one when I marry into House Targaryen?”
They stared at each other, both feeling the heat of their desires growing, when Harmon broke the spell between them. In the typical whiny voice that only a small child can produce he said, “Aunty, I'm hungry, can we go back now?"
She nodded, her eyes not leaving Baelor’s, “I'm feeling hungry too, Harmon. Let's go."
They left the cave, Harmon running ahead of them.
As they walked side by side, their hands brushed. Emboldened by the moment they just shared and the memory of the previous night's stolen kiss, Jena entwined her fingers through Baelor’s. He brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing each of her knuckles tenderly.
She felt weightless, as if a strong enough breeze could blow her away.
Harmon called out, bringing her back to earth, “Aunty, look at the seagulls! I’m a dragon and I’m going to eat them!”
As she watched him terrorising a flock of seagulls, she said, "He is such a sweet boy. I will miss him."
Baelor, having moved her hand from his mouth to rest against his chest, “Indeed you have quite the bond. I am certain he will miss you as well."
Maybe it was the sun shining, or the occasional disgruntled squawk of a seagull, or the intensity of the man beside her, but Jena whispered out loud, not really meaning to, "I wonder what a child of ours will be like."
Baelor looked down at her then, seeing the wistful look on her sweet freckled face, "I have wondered that myself. Whoever they are, I look forward to meeting them." Then he kissed her knuckles again, "And I look forward to other things as well..."
Jena's head snapped up to look at him. He had an uncharacteristically sly smile on his face, a suggestion hanging heavy in the air. As she realised what he was talking about, the butterflies in her stomach were swallowed by storm clouds. A look of horror broke across her face. The muscles of her neck clenched in fear and anxiety.
Even with her rising desire towards him, she had been worried about what was to come. Her mother had spoken to her about sex between a man and a woman before, around her twelfth summer when she had her first moon blood. She had heard her fair share of the lewd songs the small folk sang. She had even witnessed part of the bedding ceremony when Manfred and Bree were wed, something she did not relish for herself. It was humiliating, as guests would tear off the bride and groom’s clothing to the point of nudity. Thankfully, Manfred and Bree had not been completely declothed, but the entire ideal was still unpleasant in Jena’s view.
She was also aware of how to find pleasure from her body.
Jena knew what would occur between a married couple, and part of her was excited to discover it, but there was a bigger part of her that was terrified.
She was so consumed by her mental anguish that she failed to notice that they were already at the top of the staircase.
Harmon ran inside the castle, singing a song about being a dragon. Jena stood at the pillar of the snarling dragon, avoiding Baelor’s eyes and twisting her slender fingers, “I’m afraid I’m quite tired from this expedition. I’m going to rest in my chambers a while.”
Before Baelor could answer, she turned and left hurriedly.
Baelor watched her go, those shoulders of hers as hard as dragonglass.
He was furious with himself. He should have been more delicate with her. He should have been respectful. He allowed himself a moment of boldness and now he had scared her off.
He thought everything had been going so well. They were getting to know each other a little bit more every day, uncovering all the interesting and wondrous aspects of their personalities. That is exactly what he wanted.
He liked the way he felt when he was with her. She was able to bring out the best parts of him, including some he didn’t even know were there. He could only hope he could do the same for her, not that any aspect of her needed improvement.
She was such a fantastic assortment of wild and tame, joviality and solemnity, wrapped up in a mirthful countenance that he couldn’t help but be drawn towards.
He blamed his mounting physical attraction for the loss of his composure. His desire towards her was manifesting in brutish ways, causing his normal level-headedness to dissipate.
To him, she was the single most precious person in his life and he would do whatever he needed to do to make amends with her.
It was all Jena could do not to run to her chambers. Had Nyx been here, that is where she would have gone, to escape like she had so many times before. Now her only avenue for privacy was to be trapped inside.
When she got to her door, her hands fumbled with the latch, unable to get it open quickly enough. She banged a fist on the carved wood in her frustration. When the door finally admitted her, she rushed inside and closed it quickly, leaning back against it. Her lungs burnt as she sucked in air forcefully. There was a deafening rushing in her ears. She registered a dull pain in her hand, but didn’t look closely at it.
She stepped away from the door and started to pace.
Over the last four days she had been coming to a place of calm. Her nerves been had settling, still with the occasional flare up, but mostly moving to steadier waters. And she had been happy, so so happy.
Baelor was beyond anything she could ever have imagined. He could appear stern, but that was the armour he wore to protect himself when in uncomfortable situations. He was stalwart, but still able to show gentleness when required.
She could feel herself becoming a better version of herself, not because he wanted her to, or because he was making her, but due to his genuine interest in her.
She felt safe with him. She knew he would never harm her, and as far as was possible for him to control, ensure no harm came to her from others.
So, why was she feeling this way?
A loud knock sounded at the door and Dyanna popped her head in with a, “Woo hoo, Jena? Are you in?”
Her bright smile faded when she saw Jena’s pale, distressed face.
As quickly as her pregnant bulk would allow she closed the door and ambled over to her, taking her hands. “What’s happened? Are you well?”
Jena made a noise halfway between a gulp and a gasp. Dyanna pulled her over to the sitting area, still holding her hands.
Jena’s lip trembled and tears filled her eyes. Gods, she hadn’t cried in days and it starts again now?
Dyanna put a hand on her shoulder, “I’m here. You don’t need to say anything if you can’t right now. Just know, you’re not alone.”
Jena shook her head and took a deep breath, “Oh, Dyanna. It’s so silly. So ridiculous. I don’t know why I’m behaving like this.”
Then she told her about what occurred on the beach, and her feelings about their impending intimacy.
Dyanna listened, not interrupting, just nodding along.
When Jena was done she wiped her tears away angrily. Dyanna said calmly, “Ah, I see. Thank you for sharing with me. Would you like my advice?”
“Of course Dyanna. I need someone sane to talk me out of this mental spiral.”
Dyanna laughed softly and said, “Well, honestly, your fears are normal. Laying with a man for the first time, even one you are attracted to, is nerve-racking. It is usually painful, even if just for a moment, mostly because the man is only concerned with his own pleasure. But a gentle lover is, well, it’s wonderful. And it can be a lot of fun.”
Dyanna winked at her and they both laughed, Jena’s a little more manic due to her emotional state.
“Ow!” Dyanna grabbed the side of her swollen belly suddenly, her face screwing up in discomfort. “Apologies, this one is quite the little monster. Always kicking me if I am stationary for too long. Put your hand here and you can feel it.”
Dyanna took Jena’s hand and placed it on the side of her belly, pushing it down gently. “Oh my!” Jena withdrew her hand, stunned at the sensation she just felt through the fabric of Dyanna’s dress.
“Here’s another one.” Jena put her hand back in the same spot, this time leaving it there for a while. She enquired, “It feels so… violent. Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Not painful exactly, more uncomfortable. And a bit strange. Daeron was nothing like this. He was very calm when he was in my womb, I hardly felt him.”
Jena nodded, still with her hand on Dyanna’s belly, feeling the inner assault and wondering what it would feel like for her when the time came.
Dyanna took her hand from where it rested and held it in hers, “Do you feel any better?”
Jena shrugged a little, “I appreciate what you’ve said, it has helped me greatly, however I still feel… still feel so many things.”
Dyanna continued, “Here’s something else to consider. I have seen the affection growing between you and Baelor. I don’t believe he would hurt you, that just isn’t like him. I believe he would be a gentle and respectful lover.”
Jena nodded again, “Yes you’re probably right. Actually, I know you’re right. Thank you Dyanna, truly.”
“Of course. Also I wanted to thank you for spending time with Daeron this morning. He was so calm when he returned, and has just woken from a nap. It is so hard to get him to sleep, he wakes constantly. So I am in your debt.”
They smiled at each other and Dyanna exclaimed in pain again. “Forgive me, but I need to walk before this child kicks me to death. Do you want to join me?”
Jena was unsure, she didn’t trust herself to see Baelor, just yet. “I think I’ll just stay here a bit longer. Another time?”
“Of course.” Jena helped Dyanna get to her feet, which was far from elegant, “All grace is out at window when you’re this pregnant.” They laughed and walked to the door together.
After Dyanna left, Jena spent some time sketching idly, not really seeing what she was doing. She ruminated on her conversation with her friend. She did feel better, less nervous. Well, still nervous but it was an excited nervous rather than a consuming nervous.
A gentle knock sounded at the door, but it did not open. Usually a visitor would knock and then enter, so Jena went to open it.
Standing outside was a very unexpectedly distressed Baelor. His usually calm face, was contorted by a screwed up brow and the vein in this temple pulsed almost aggressively.
His voice, usually so sure of itself, broke and cracked as he spoke, “Jena… I- I hope that you are well. Did I overstep before on the beach?"
She hovered at the door, unable to let him enter because of etiquette, but also wanting to. So she remained in her room, and Baelor stood just outside the door. They were close enough to have the conversation but not be overheard if someone passed.
She could see a break in his resolve. He was questioning himself and uncertain in his conduct. For all her nervousness, seeing him this way, made her feel better. She didn't want him to suffer, far from it. She was simply fascinated by his vulnerability, something she didn’t think possible. There was a chink in the impenetrable armour he wore.
She smiled then and reached out to touch his forearm. His body was tense and when she touched him, he seemed to relax a little. He moved his arm to take her hand gently in both of his, enclosing it in his warmth.
"No, Baelor, please. You have done nothing wrong. I just... at the mention of um, um, that, my nerves overcame me… I... don't want to disappoint you..."
He came closer to the door then, right up to her, she could feel the heat radiating from him and it took her breath away. "There is nothing you could ever do that would disappoint me, Jena." Her name coming out of his perfect mouth like a whisper, melting her insides.
“Please understand that I did not mean to upset you. I should not have been so brash to mention such a thing. Forgive me, please.”
Her heart broke on the last word. He was so sensitive in that moment, completely at odds with how he had been previously.
She cupped the side of his face, her fingers caressing his ear and losing themselves in his hair. He melted into her hand and their bodies came closer together. She put a gentle kiss on his lips, then she lay her head on his chest, snuggling into him.
Emotion welled in his throat, perhaps her good favour wasn’t lost after all.
His strong arms came around her body, enclosing her small frame gently. Tenderly.
They stood like that for a moment, or perhaps it could have been an eternity, neither knew or cared. Then he whispered into her rose-scented hair, “I understand if you wish to decline, however I hoped you would join us for supper tonight. If you need more time to yourself, I will understand."
She looked up into his jaw and traced a finger over the masculine bulge in his throat, “I don't want to waste another moment separated from you. Let's go."
Supper that evening saw them sitting in the same arrangement as the previous night. Conversation around the table was as amicable as previously.
Jena was eating the food automatically, not dissimilar to that night in the inn during their journey here. Her thoughts were on other things, things best thought about when alone.
Baelor watched her, she had a look on her face he had not seen before. Her eyes had a glossy, glazed over look, like she was far away somewhere in a pleasant daydream. He longed to be there with her, wherever she was.
Maester Tylo entered the great hall then and approached the King. He leant down to speak in his ear. The King’s face betrayed nothing, but his fist tightened where he held his goblet.
Rising, he said, “My guests, please excuse me. Baelor, Maekar, join me.”
Jena and Baelor shared a look across the table, him sending her a wordless apology. There would be no walking her to her room tonight.
Jena stayed in the great hall long after supper concluded, hovering between her family members, pretending to be part of their conversations. She hoped that if she waited long enough, Baelor would return.
Asher said to her, "I don't think he's coming back, sister. You'll have to wait until tomorrow."
Jena agreed, "Yes, I suppose you're right. Good night, then."
She left the great hall, walking slowly, hoping to run into him in the corridors.
Soon enough her door was in front of her. She hovered for a little while in the corridor, not wanting to go in, just in case he came striding around the corner to wish her goodnight.
Eventually she accepted that she would not see him, so she entered her room. She started to undress, absentmindedly walking around, when she saw something on the table beside her bed. Stepping closer, she saw it was a blood red piece of dragonglass. Picking it up to examine it, she saw a small piece of parchment folded underneath it. Her heart skipped a beat when she realised that there was only one person this could be from. Fingers shaking slightly, feeling the buzz of excitement, she unfolded it:
My heart is yours, forevermore. ~B
Jena traced her fingers over the letters, his script exactly what she imagined it would be; neat, concise and without flourish. Except for the B, there was a delicate curl to it and she wondered if it had always been that way.
No matter how she had felt earlier in the day, now she looked forward with a blossoming confidence.
