☾︎ Summary - After the events of the battle of the Gullet, reader is plagued by nightmares and the fear that Jace died in her arms. But Jace is the only one that can bring her back to reality, and show her that he's truly alive.
Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!fem!reader
☾︎ Authors notes - ahhh, I'm so excited!!! This is a part 2 to carry out bodies safe to shore 🥹 I just couldn't leave the fic at that so I had to make another one, I made this one ANGSTY (I'm sorry, I'm a hoe for angst lol) but don't worry I made it fluffy at the end 🫶 I literally love them sm, lowkey I want to make more parts 😭 btw I made alot of parallels, I hope y'all notice them <3 comments, reblogs, and likes are extremely appreciated! :)
I would DEFINITELY recommend you read part 1 before reading this!
☾︎ Word count - 3,785
☾︎ Warnings - Jace does NOT die in this, Targaryen!fem!reader, reader has white hair, no specified relation to Jacaerys, Jace and reader are betrothed, Vermax isn't dead, but is not mentioned 😭, ANGSTY ANGSTTTT, fluff towards end, hurt/comfort, panic attack (at beginning), self blame (reader), guilt, (reader) nightmares, mentions of blood, they finally kiss 🥹 hopefully I got everything lmao.
translations: Nuhys qēlos - my star. Avy jorrāelan - I love you. vēzos ñuho - my sun.
❥・・┈┈┈༚༅༚˳.୨୧.˳༚༅༚┈┈・・❥
This can't be right. I got him home. He's safe.
Panic and confusion clings to my bones. My gaze is hazy yet strangley clear as I look down at Jace in my arms. We're up in the air, just like before, when we were going home. When I was trying my hardest to save him.
"It's not your fault," He whispers, trailing cold fingers across my cheek. They catch a stray tear—when did I start crying? His touch feels muted. Muffled and far away, as my stomach churns.
I brush a trembling thumb across his cheekbone.
He's too cold.
Too cold.
Too cold.
"You're okay." My tongue feels heavy. I can see his breathing stutter in his chest. "You're going to be okay. I'm here. I'm here."
He smiles. Barely there. Barely visible. His fingers slowly slide off my cheek, and my eyes widen as bile rises in my throat.
"No. No, no, no, no." I mumble frantically. "No. No! Jace, look at me! Stay with me."
I shake his shoulders, but it does no good. For a second, I think he's staring at me, but no. He's staring past me, farther than I can see.
His brown eyes glaze over.
"Fuck! No, Jace!" I push back his curls as I cradle his face in my hands, rubbing my thumbs across his skin as if I could coax him from a slumber.
"You're okay, Jace. Come back to me. Look at me." My voice cracks. My stomach feels heavy as I shake my head over and over. My jaw trembles.
It's silent for a few agonizing seconds. Then the disgusting reality finally sinks in.
"Fuck. Fuck."
I swallow harshly. Nausea grips my stomach like a vise as I look anywhere but at his vacant gaze. The gaze that used to look at me with warmth is now lifeless and cold.
I was too slow.
The sobs that tear out of my chest are ugly and rough. I gag on the air that I try to breathe in. I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to look at him. I raise my face as high toward the sky as I can, as if I can out run this.
I'm such a coward—
I feel like my soul has been ripped out of me, leaving me hollow and thin.
"You were supposed to come back with me!" I wail into his wet curls, hugging him tightly to my chest.
No one deserves to have their soulmate die in their arms.
I hum a pathetic, weak lullaby from when we were children, blindly—naively—hoping it will wake him. Like he just fell asleep. Just asleep. I sob the words out as I rock him from side to side, rubbing a hand down his back as if it will comfort him.
This isn't fair. It's not fucking fair.
He was supposed to be alive.
I got him home. I got him home—
I flinch awake.
I exhale sharply through my nose as my heavy gaze darts frantically around the room before landing on Jace. I try to swallow past the lump in my throat as I sit up in the soft bed. The red blanket pools around my legs as my body trembles. I frown and wipe at the tears that have crusted on my cheeks.
The room is too dark. I can barely make out the outline of his body.
Panic creep into my chest, squeezing tightly. I reach out with a trembling hand, fumbling around until I find him. I grasp the soft skin of his arm before sliding my hand to his chest.
I feel his chest rise and fall steadily beneath my palm, I let out a shaky breath. I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing a hand over my mouth. Sobs threaten to spill past my lips, but I swallow them down, careful not to wake him.
Or the castle, I suppose.
He's okay. It was just a dream. Just a dream.
"You're safe," I whisper, almost to myself. "You're safe now."
I attempt to calm my racing heart as I sit on the edge of the bed. My body spasms violently as I force myself to breathe more slowly. Fear sits heavy in my gut like a stone, sinking. I fear I will drown in the ocean of horror and grief for something I could have lost.
I almost did. If I had been even a second too late, I would be holding his corpse. Cold. Lifeless. I was almost too slow—
I shake my head, as if it will rid me of those horrible thoughts.
I stand on shaking legs as I curl my fingers into fists, my fingernails leaving tiny crescent-shaped marks in my skin. I focus on the pressure and the sting. I feel disgusting. I feel his blood on my skin. Crimson and sticky, and I need to wash it off.
Get it off.
I scrub my arms harshly with a cloth. The water in the tub has long since gone cold. Not even the warmth of the water earlier felt like his skin. I can still feel his blood caked beneath my nails.
Just keep breathing.
The ache between my ribs is unbearable. I feel like there are dents and cracks in my skin. As if, I make one wrong move or turn, I will shatter like stars that burst and crash into the ocean. Despair pours from the invisible wounds that mark my skin.
But I dont speak aloud about what happened. Or what could have happened. Because if I do, I know I'll break. And I won't be able to pick up the pieces without them piercing me, my blood leaking onto the floor.
I stare at the cold ceiling for what feels like hours. My eyes are dry, vacant, as I force myself to rise from the tub.
I sink back into the soft bed in clean clothes. My nerves are still jittery as I rest my head against his chest. I close my eyes and focus on his gentle breathing. He hums softly in his sleep and curls an arm around my waist.
The soft sunlight filters through the glass window, warming the room as I slowly shift awake. It's warm. So impossibly warm. As sink into it, I let it fend off the chill lingering in my bones. I let it wrap around my skin and settle in my stomach. I feel a gentle caress brush reverently across my cheek, back and forth. I chase the soothing touch as I hear a soft laugh.
I open my eyes to find brown ones watching me. His gaze drifts around my face, unhurried. Soft.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I mumble, my voice raspy as I look back at him with tired but loving eyes.
He smiles. It's so incredibly bright that it makes my heart ache. He presses a kiss to my forehead, then my temple.
"I can't look at my betrothed?" He whispers, his nose nudging mine, making me crack a smile.
"She's too pretty to not admire, hm?"
Warmth skitters beneath my skin and down my spine, the sensation prickly but undeniably pleasant as I brush a stray curl from his forehead. I say nothing as I look past him, to find a tray laden with sweet cakes and different kinds of fruit.
Sweet cakes that I denied last night.
When he was almost dead—
I shake my head, as if that alone could banish the thought.
"What's this?" I ask instead.
He grins. He attempts to sit up in bed, his face pinched with pain and effort as I immediately adjust his pillows and help shift him into a more comfortable position.
He thanks me by pressing his lips to my cheek.
"Breakfast. I thought we could share a morning meal together, if you would like that?"
He doesn't command me to eat with him. He doesn't order me about. He asks. The miniscule gesture makes my throat tighten as I nod slightly.
"Yes, I would like that. Very much." I barely speak above a whisper. "Thank you."
"You changed your clothes."
I chew slowly, avoiding his gaze until I swallow.
"I took a bath last night," I say quietly, shrugging slightly.
He frowns, clenching his jaw.
"What was wrong? You could've woken me—"
"Nothing was wrong. And you were sleeping peacefully. I did not want to wake you."
We eat in silence. I force myself to eat a few bites of fruit as I watch Jace carefully. Solemnly.
I watch his throat move when he swallows, his fingers when he picks up a grape, his hair falling into his eyes. I watch his chest rise and fall with every breath.
He's breathing.
His skin isn't ash.
He's fine.
Everything that proves he's alive. Alive and breathing.
I dont fully realize I'm analyzing him until he asks:
"Now you're staring." He's amused. His smile is almost teasing.
I shift in the bed, wary that I was caught doing something I hadn't even realized I was doing. I don't answer, and he notices.
He holds his arms out, a silent invitation.
I almost immediately sink into his arms.
I shift in his hold, scooting impossibly closer. He lets out a grunt of pain—barely audible—when my head presses against his injured shoulder.
My whole body immediately locks up, tensing. A sick feeling sinks into my gut as I begin to pull away.
His brows immediately pinch together, his expression softening into something close to sadness. He shakes his head, catching my arm before I can stray too far.
I avoid his gaze.
Guilt gnaws at my chest, shredding through my skin until I'm bare and vulnerable. How could I forget he is injured? How sick am I?
Stay away from him before I hurt him further—
"Dont do that."
I blink. I stare at the dark red blanket, as if I might find answers within the silk fabric.
Could it have been his blood that stained it?
No. That couldn't be. I need to stop.
Just stop.
"You're doing it again."
His tone isn't accusing. Nor is it cruel.
It's gentle.
And I relish in all that is him, even when I feel like I don't deserve it. I force my gaze to meet his. His warm brown eyes are watching me carefully.
His beauty makes my heart ache every time I see him. He has ruined everything beautiful in this world because nothing can compare to him. He puts the moon and stars to shame. Flowers seem duller. Sunsets and sunrises don't hold a candle to him.
His smile is sunlight itself.
And even if the realm froze over, he would be the one thing that could keep me warm for eternity.
"Doing what?" I murmur.
He gives me a knowing look, I swallow harshly as I look out of the window to avoid his piercing eyes.
I watch the clouds drift by. Occasionally a dragon's wing comes into view before quickly disappearing.
"Disappearing. Getting lost in your mind." He murmurs back. His thumb brushes across my skin, his hand warm around my arm as he gently tugs me closer.
"Come here, my love."
It's silent for a few moments.
But I don't let myself give in.
Instead, I get off the bed and stand abruptly. I dont want to look at the pity in his stare as I move to open the curtains a little wider, letting more light into the room.
"How are you feeling? Are you still in pain? I could fetch the maester—"
He whispers my name. Just once.
My chest wants to cave in. I want to bury myself in his arms and sob into his hair.
But I don't.
"Are you still hungry? I could bring some more food, unless you are feeling ill."
I bring the water basin from the small wooden table near his bed. I pour him a glass and set it beside him.
He says nothing. Nothing at all.
I fear I must have upset him.
But that fear fades away as quickly as it came when his hand finds mine. His slightly rough fingertips brush over my knuckles before he presses his lips against the back of my hand.
My body almost instantly relaxes as I exhale quietly.
He looks up at me through his lashes. He smiles against my skin.
"You're hair is glowing in the light," He says softly, as if speaking any louder it would break this fragile moment.
My lips twitch slightly. Barely a smile. But still there.
He notices. Because, of course, he does.
He smiles back. Gods, he's pretty.
I let the warmth of his hand in mine settle into my skin. The crease between my brows softens as he tugs me closer.
I shake my head, still resisting.
He makes a soft sound, coaxing me closer as his hand slides up my forearm.
"Jace."
He ignores my protests.
My eyes travel across his sharp features, my demeanor slowly eases. He says my name in an equally stern tone, though it carries a hint of playfulness.
"I want to hold you, Nuhys qēlos."
The statement catches me off guard.
I swallow harshly, my nerves burning and left on edge.
"I don't want to hurt you," I finally whisper after what feels like ages. He frowns.
I don't meet his gaze as I force myself to breathe so I dont fucking break.
"You won't."
"You dont know that," I finally grit out, my tone harsher than I anticipated.
It's silent for a few agonizing moments.
"Fuck, I just hurt you moments ago!"
"You didn't mean to," He says calmly. Too calmly.
Something about his even tone makes me clench my jaw, as though he wasn't on fucking death's door yesterday.
I'm... angry. And I'm not sure at whom. The men who shot at him? This war? The gods?
I'd burn everything to the ground if I could.
Traitorous tears sting my eyes as I rub my hands harshly down my face.
The sounds of guards and maids walking past and working outside fill the tense, silent air.
"Just... just stop."
My voice is wobbly. My heart constricts harshly.
"I don't want to fight. I-I can't. Fuck, Jace, I can't—"
My words are begging. I curse myself for sounding so weak.
Get a grip. You're fine. He's fine.
He shakes his head repeatedly, his eyes wide as he reaches for me.
"Hey, hey. We're not fighting," He says quietly.
So quietly that I can barely hear him through the waves of noise crashing in my head.
My mouth feels dry, and I feel like I'm back in the Gullet.
I can feel the wind rushing in my ears.
I can feel his heartbeat fading in my arms.
I don't want to go back.
I don't understand why I can't make leave my head. He says my name gently through the fog in my mind.
No. No, no, no. I'm going to cry.
I don't want to cry, because if I do, I might never stop. I swallow harshly. I breathe in sharply through my nose, choking back everything that threatens to spill from my lips.
"Jace..." I whimper. I'm so unfathomably infuriated and I just want him to hold me.
To whisper sweet nothings to me. To keep me from darkness and pain. I dont want to see the heartbreak on his face. I don't want to feel the grief coiling around my ribs.
I don't want to feel so fucking scared all the time, waiting for him to disappear around every corner.
I let out a pathetic sound when he grabs my forearm and pulls me against his chest.
This feels all too familiar. Him comforting me when it's supposed to be the other way around.
I hold back my sobs as he holds me tightly. So tightly I fear for his wounds, but he doesn't move an inch.
I wrap my arms around his neck, burying face into the crook of his good shoulder. My body trembles as he holds me impossibly close.
He doesn't say anything for the longest time. He only trails a gentle hand down my back.
"You don't understand what it was like holding you all the way back to Dragonstone."
My voice is high. I choke on my breath as my chest heaves.
How can I say that? That's so selfish—
"I thought you would die in my arms. Fuck, seeing those arrows pierce you—"
I cut off my own sentence when a sob breaks past my lips. He keeps his lips pressed against my head, his eyes filled with tears.
"And I've had nightmares, and they feel so real, and I feel like if I look away for one moment—"
He shushes me gently. I shake my head vigorously.
Gods, I can feel my body collapsing.
I feel as if my heart has been ripped from my chest, stabbed repeatedly, and shoved back in. Like I'm supposed to fucking risk loving again, knowing that he could be taken from me for good.
He whispers my name, mumbling sweet words in High Valyrian near my ear. His soft tone breaks through the terror tearing at my skin.
My fingers are clenched into fists against his neck. I sniffle harshly as he runs a soothing hand down my head.
"I don't want to lose you, but my mind is acting as if I already did." My words are barely above a whisper.
His hand freezes against my lower back before he resumes his soothing caresses.
"I'm alive," he says quietly.
His thumb brushes gentle circles against my skin. I focus on his breathing. His hair tickling my forehead. His warm breath across my cheek.
"The gods would have to drag me from your arms before I would leave willingly."
My breathing calms slightly. I hiccup as tears continue to stream down my cheeks, making my skin and Jace's neck sticky.
"Nuhys qēlos," he says lovingly, yet so quietly.
My fingers brush over his shoulder blades. His skin is cold. The pit in my stomach churns as I let out a quiet sob. I rub his back gently, moving up to the back of his neck, hoping to bring some warmth back to him.
He's cold, like death.
I need to warm him.
"Oh, love," He whispers, holding me tighter. He buries his face into my neck.
"I won't leave you. Not by the Greens, not by war. Not even by the gods."
Slowly, bit by bit, I begin to calm.
My breathing is still uneven, still sharp, but I let Jace hold me together. I let him soothe me. I let him press gentle kisses across my skin.
I pull away from the safety of his neck and press a kiss—as an apology? I'm not sure—against his cheek before settling back against his chest.
My legs tangle with his. He cradles me against him. It's silent for a few moments. Almost achingly so.
"When you were holding me, I thought you were a goddess." His words are slow and murmured against my forehead, almost as though he's speaking to himself. "You could've rivaled the stars. You do."
He tilts my chin up with gentle fingers. His thumb brushes across my skin as he cradles my face in his hands, like I'm fragile.
His brown eyes meet mine.
and I just... calm.
"And I would kneel before you, and worship you until my hands and knees bled. And I would've died at peace, knowing that you were holding me in my death."
I don't stop the tears this time. I let them trail down my cheeks.
He presses his cheek against mine, holding us there, as he wipes away the silent tears while my chest burns.
Burns with pain. With love.
I weep into his chest. And he lets me.
I would give him my air, my heartbeat, just so he could have peace. The love I have for him is crushing.
Loving him is warm and safe. Like him.
"Breathe," He says in a hushed tone, but it echos in my chest. "Breathe, Nuhys qēlos."
He kisses the side of my head again and again.
I exhale quietly, leaning into him. My breathing slowly falls into rhythm with his.
Because if he died, I would weep.
I would weep, and my tears would fill thousands upon thousands of oceans.
And my tears would never dry. Sorrow would cover me like a cloak and cling to my bones. I would know no peace. My heart would ache for a heart that no longer beats.
So I Iet myself love him.
I let myself hold him and kiss him. I soak in his warmth and light, and I let him do the same.
"I could be killed by blade or dragonfire, but losing you would be worse than death," I say quietly, as I take his face in my hands.
His pretty eyes are tired.
"Avy jorrāelan," He says simply, but it means so much more.
Tears prick my eyes again. He turns his head to the side and presses a kiss to the palm of my hand, making the corners of my lips lift.
"Avy jorrāelan, my love," I say softly.
His hand slides up my waist, pulling me closer. My nose bumps against his, making us laugh quietly.
"May I kiss my betrothed?" His voice low, almost teasing, but so tender and soft that I just want him to hold me until the realm turns to ash.
"You may," I murmur. Warmth skitters beneath my skin.
He doesn't waste a second, he presses his lips against mine.
The kiss isn't rough or full of lust. It's gentle, as though if he pressed too hard, I might shatter.
His lips are slightly chapped but oh so warm as his hands travel down my neck. He tastes of honey and sugar from the cakes we shared earlier.
I savor everything that is him.
When we pull away, he tucks me into his chest once more. I close my eyes as I squish my cheek against his bare skin. His fingertips brush my temple.
"I will prove worthy of your love. Every dawn and dusk, from the tide and to the moon. I will love you until the moon fades and the sun fizzles to dust."
I open my eyes as I raise my head. My eyes meet his as a lump forms in my throat.
"Stay?" I whisper. My voice is small.
He's quiet for a moment, his thumb brushing beneath my eye. His eyes meet mine. Our faces are close, so close as he brushes his fingers across my cheekbone.
I'll stay."
Throughout the day, we remain in bed. We hold each other close. We soothe one another. I hold his hand tightly when the maester comes to check his wounds and when his mother visits.
When the sun begins to set, I push back his curls repeatedly. Lovingly. His eyes are watching me as I raise a brow.
"Hm?"
"I love you." He whisper the words.
"I love you too."
I rest my head in the crook of his neck, I kiss his jaw, my lips barely brushing his skin. I close my eyes, shifting closer.
"vēzos ñuho," I hum against his skin.
"Nuhys qēlos," He says back softly.
He begins to hum quietly. A soft tune.
It takes me a moment to recognize it. When I do, I close my eyes, letting our old lullaby lull me to sleep. He rocks me gently, side to side. He joins me soon after, his humming growing slower until stopping fully.
I might have nightmares forever. I might convince myself day by day he's dead.
But I know he'll be there to wake me and hold me. He'll be there to remind me that he's here. Alive. That he won't ever leave me.
And that's enough to comfort me.
please do NOT steal my writing in any way or rewrite it. don't post it on other sites or feed it through ai, I WILL find you if you do.
☾︎ Summary - Jacaerys and reader go to battle in the Gullet. But when reader finds Jace, barely hanging onto the threads of life, she feels the looming dread that even the strongest can suffer and fall the hardest.
☾︎ Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!fem!reader
☾︎ Authors notes - ahhh!! This is my first ever fic 😭 I'm scared but so excited bc I really like this one! Hopefully more to come, please be kind :) Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Maybe a part 2???
Here is part 2!
☾︎ Word count - 3,023
☾︎ Warnings - Targaryen!fem!reader, reader has white hair, reader rides vermithor, no specified relation to Jacaerys, Jace and reader are betrothed, injures, blood, ANGST, hurt/comfort, Jace does NOT die in this, slight fluff at the end, reader panicking almost the entire time 😭, guilt (reader), self blame (reader), I...think that's it.
Translations: Nuhys qēlos - My star. Ñuha jorāelā - My love. I'm too lazy to do the other ones 😭
❥・・┈┈┈༚༅༚˳.୨୧.˳༚༅༚┈┈・・❥
I'm not sure how long we've been out here. Time is but an illusion. Maybe it's been days. It feels Like it must have been. I feel like I'm looking through a warped glass window. Everything is blurry and it makes me dizzy, yet I can't look away. No matter how much I want to.
Smoke fills the air, obscuring my view and burning my eyes as the wind rushes through my ears. My hands tighten around the reins. Vermithor rumbles loudly. He senses my growing unease as I whip my head around. My gaze searches for Jace and Baela among the smoke. I swallow thickly as I rest a calming hand against his bronze scales.
"Lykirī, Vermithor." I say loud enough for him to hear. He grumbles lowly. "We'll find them soon. We just got split up." My voice trails off towards the end of my words.
The fumes make my throat tighten. A prickly sensation skitters up my spine. I yelp, yanking the reins to the side as one of the giant bolt arrows slices through the air toward Vermithor's side. He shrieks as he dives higher in the sky, narrowly missing the arrow. I'm thrown back into my seat as I grasp the saddle to stay upright.
"Rȳbās!"
More bolt arrows fly towards us. He flies towards the danger, turning left and right swiftly as shouts and screams become clearer the closer we get. I hold back a shriek when he slams his body through a ship, destroying the wood as it slices my cheek open. I feel warmth start to trickle down my skin. The cut stings.
Panic holds my chest in a vice, squeezing until I can't breathe as I look back at the damage. He breathes fire across more ships, more enemies. I can't hear anything except the blood rushing in my ears.
"Dohaerās! We have to find—"
A shriek fills the air, making a harsh wave of fear cover me like a cloak. I know that sound, that's Vermax, sweet, gentle, Vermax. He's in pain, such a great deal of pain that it makes tears prick my eyes. I yank the reins to turn my dragon around as we fly toward the sound.
Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.
I feel bile rise in my throat. My trembling hand finds its way to my stomach, as if that action alone can keep me from losing my composure.
"Jace?" I shout. Fuck. I feel like I'm going to be sick when my eyes catch a head of brown curls.
Sinking in the water. The bolt arrows are lodged in his scales, his wails go quieter and more hoarse as his limbs grow more sluggish.
"Go, go now, Vermithor!" I urge him on as the wind slaps me in the face. He sails downward towards them, but it's too slow. Too fucking slow. Vermithor dodges the arrows as we get closer. Closer.
"I'm here, I'm here! I'm—"
When you love someone, you would be willing to die for them. Kill for them. With no regard for anything other than knowing that they are safe. I have never known the feeling of a loved one's blood on my skin. The thought makes my skin feel uncomfortably tight. So when that first arrow pierced his skin, I could do nothing but watch. I wanted to scream. I wanted to lay waste to those who hurt him because he doesn't deserve it. He deserves to be at home, safe and warm with his family until he grows old. He doesn't fucking deserve it. Not... not here.
"Jace!" I'm not sure if that was the scream I let out or not. I can't tell.
Calm down. Fucking focus! Get him. Go get him.
Then the second arrow hits.
Then the third.
I cry out. It feels like someone ripped out my lungs and shredded them apart then stuck them back in and expected me to breathe easily.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
The ancient beast slams into the water. The salty water sprays my face, the contact freezing against my skin. I unclasp the hooks on my saddle as I slide down his scales. I don't care about safety. All I can think about is him. I reach out, my fingers extending farther as I grab at his vest. My hand slips. Vermithor growls lowly, catching my attention. I have to hurry, or we'll both be dead.
I try not to cry. The tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I choke on the sobs that threaten to fall past my lips.
I give a determined shout as I grab him by the shoulders, yanking him up with all my strength. I feel like my arms are tearing as I clench my jaw. I hold him closely once I manage to get him up. I pant harshly as I rest my cheek against his soaked curls. I squeeze my eyes shut. My body is shaking so violently that I feel my teeth chatter. My stomach rolls at the sight of him. I gag at the scent of his blood. Vermithor assists in helping both of us back into the saddle, sinking himself lower into the ocean.
"Sōvēs." I let out. My voice is hoarse.
Vermithor launches off the water. The force makes a wave that crashes over a few ships around us. I hold onto Jace tightly to keep him from falling before I'm jerked to the side. The ancient beast lets out a pain-filled wail as the bolt arrow sticks out of his side.
"No, no! Sōvēs! Vēzot Sōves!" My voice cracks. He tries to obey, flapping his wings as he travels higher. A flash of shadow zips right past us, ripping the rope from the arrow. Baela looks back. A mixture of panic and despair paints her warm features when her eyes land on Jacaerys.
"We have to go back to Dragonstone!" I shout over the wind. She nods, leading the way on Moondancer. I look back down. Brown eyes meet mine as I swallow harshly. They're half-lidded, tracing over my face like he's committing it to memory.
Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.
"You're okay now." I grit out, my hands tightening around his shoulders. "I'm here now. You're safe."
I brush back his wet hair that is sticking to his forehead with shaking fingers.
I'll keep him safe. I think. I'll shield him from the pain and sorrow that comes with war. I will take every arrow, every sword blow, even if I die by dragon fire. I would for him, because he isn't just a prince or the heir to the throne. He's Jace. Kind and gentle and good. I feel tears slip down my cheeks, creating a pathway through the dirt and blood.
Because I love him.
I feel the pad of his fingers brush against the tears staining my cheeks. The color is draining from his face, growing paler. The sight makes me nauseous.
"Don't cry, Ñuha jorāelā," he whispers, his tone weak and breathy. His chest is rising and falling too quickly. His breathing is shallow. I shake my head repeatedly.
"Don't speak. Save your strength." I stammer. I ignore the blood that's soaking through his vest. I ignore the way his skin is too cold against mine. It may be selfish of me. It is.
"You're bleeding."
"I'm okay. Hey, hey, hey. Don't close your eyes, okay? Just look at me." I guide his head toward mine. I press my forehead against his as I run a soothing hand through his damp curls. I press a trembling kiss to the side of his head. He murmurs my name. I pull back to meet his eyes.
I expect to see pain, anger, anything. But all I see is love. He's looking at me like I hung the moon and stars just for him, and I can't handle it. I feel sick. I feel like it's my fault.
"Don't... don't blame yourself." My eyes flick back up to meet his. Dragonstone is just coming into view.
"Don't say that like you're dying. You're not." I say forcefully. My hands are trembling as I press a hand to one of his wounds. He grunts roughly. I whisper soft apologies into his hair as I hold him close.
"Please don't take him." I whisper. I don't know who I'm speaking to. The gods, the ocean, the fucking sky. "We have already lost too much. Don't take him too. He doesn't deserve it."
I plead and plead until my voice grows hoarse and my words get stolen in the wind. I beg the gods, or whoever is listening, to not take him from me because it wouldn't be fair. Because he's still young, and he deserves to see a realm that is peaceful and safe. I beg until the tears have crusted on my cheeks and my heart has been stomped on. I beg until his heart grows more faint and slow. I beg once we land in Dragonstone and the maesters pry him from my arms.
I even began to pray to the old and new gods like a child, pleading with them, cursing them, making deals, anything.
I feel like I brought a corpse to his mother's feet.
The dragonkeepers lead away Vermithor to tend to his wounds.
I sit there for what feels like hours. My back is against a stone wall. I sit there waiting across the hall. My knees are up to my chest, my riding leathers still slightly damp. My head starts to lean forward, my eyes fluttering closed before I snap them open.
I can't sleep until I know he's alive.
The maesters tried to clean my wounds, but I refused each time. After the sixth attempt, I caved. Rhaenyra told me she would stay with Jacaerys. She urged me to go eat, or at least take a bath. I said nothing. Baela understood, in a way. She sat with me for the first hour, but then she jokingly remarked about how much she stunk of dragon as she rose to go take a bath. A maid passed by, offering sweet cakes. I declined, knowing that if I ate something, it would just come right back up.
And then I was alone.
Alone with my thoughts, which is worse when the thoughts could become true this time.
I repeat his name like a mantra out loud. Quietly. Oh so quietly, but the guards still glance my way. As if, by keeping repeating it, I'll somehow keep his heart beating by speaking his name over and over. Seeing the arrows strike his body is something that will never leave my sight. It will haunt me for the rest of eternity. Every time I close my eyes, I see the image behind my eyelids. I'm sure it will be in my nightmares tonight and every night after, but I would bear the burden if it meant his pain would ease and that his dreams would be peaceful.
Some time ago, I dozed off. I knock my head against the wall with a wince. Baela appears at my side, a tired smile plastered across her lips.
"He's alright. They did the most they could."
I attempt to spring up onto my feet. My legs feel fuzzy as I lose my balance, but Baela grips my forearms to stabilize me. I smile weakly as I hurry past her as quickly as I can. I walk into his bedchambers. The room smells of frankincense and salt.
My breathing hitches once my gaze lands on Jace. The arrows that were protruding from his body when I held him are gone. His riding leathers are gone, replaced with bandages around his chest. His lower half is covered in a soft, silk red blanket. His skin is still pale, but he's breathing more slowly now. My heart pounds relentlessly against my ribcage as I slowly make my way toward him.
"He's strong." I turn my head to the side to see Rhaenyra. She looks exhausted but less tense than before. Her violet eyes are soft as she goes to sit on the foot of the bed. She's still in her riding leathers from before, before we left to fight in the Gullet. I wince. She smiles slightly.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace." I whisper, I'm not sure what I'm apologizing for. Leaving her here, disobeying her, bringing back her half-dead son—
"You brought him back," she murmurs. I look back at him, he looks like he's still in pain. His brows are pinched together, but otherwise he looks peaceful. At least I hope he's peaceful. I scoff bitterly.
"Not fast enough." Her hand grasps mine, gentle.
"Do not speak like that. You brought him back and that is enough." It's quiet for a few aching moments. The guilt gnaws at me.
"Leaving was wrong. Keeping me in my bedchambers was wrong," she says. I purse my lips. "What you did could be seen as treason."
I look away from her, shame filling my gut.
"But," she starts. "You fought fearlessly, and you brought back my son." She pauses, pursing her lips. Her voice grows quiet. "I've already lost a son. I didn't need to lose another." My frown softens as I squeeze her hand gently. She stands up from the bed. She squeezes my shoulder before walking past.
"I'll give you both privacy."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
It's silent. I let out a deep sigh as I sit on the ground near the bed. I hesitate as my hand hovers over his. I gently interlock our fingers as I press them against my lips. Tears prick my eyes as my throat tightens.
"I'm sorry I didn't get there fast enough." I whisper against his skin. I rest my forehead against his leg as I let out a shaky breath. "I... I tried."
I feel a hand fall on top of my head, weak but still there. I practically deflate against him as tears collect on my eyelashes. My breathing hitches as he rubs soothingly down my back. this is ridiculous. I'm supposed to be comforting him.
"Oh, Jace. I thought—fuck—I thought—" He shushes me gently. I choke on a sob, my voice brittle. My body begins to tremble uncontrollably as he weakly tugs on my hand.
"Lay with me, Nuhys qēlos." His voice is gentle, not possessive, but so soft it makes me want to curl up in his arms.
"I can't," I breathe out, albeit sharply. "I don't want to hurt you further—"
He murmurs my name again, and I shake my head vigorously. But I let him guide me. I let him tug me into the bed and into his uninjured side. And when I feel the warmth and the solidity of him, my tears turn into sobs.
He grabs my hand gently—so gently—and holds it against his chest, right against his heart. I pull back, not wanting to hurt him, but he holds firmly.
Tears still slip down my face at a rapid pace, but I calm slightly once I feel the gentle thump, thump of his heart. It's consistent and strong, and fuck, it makes me fall apart all over again. because I felt his heart fading in my hands, and if I was even a second too late, he wouldn't be alive. My breathing stutters as his thumb rubs back and forth across my skin.
"I'm here." He says it with so much conviction that I want to believe him. So I let myself breathe in his calming scent. I let myself sniffle and hiccup as I focus on his heartbeat. "I'm here now, and I am not going to leave you."
I rest my head gently in the crook of his neck, careful of the bandage around his shoulder, as he wraps a tender arm around my waist.
"Are you okay?"
He smiles weakly. "I'm better. I'm alright now."
"Thank you for saving me." He whispers, pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead. I say nothing. I can't say anything as a lump forms in my throat.
He's my lungs, my heart, the very air I breathe. He's the wind through the trees, the waves crashing against the shore, the warmth of the sun. He's the wildflowers growing in the fields. His smile alone could bring light to the darkness.
Because if I had to burn the realm down, I would do it gladly if it meant he would be warm.
"Stay?"
I raise my head from the safety of his neck. I meet his soft brown eyes — dark and inviting, and oh so warm. When the light hits them just right, they're a pool of soft honey.
"I'm here," I whisper. I brush my thumb across his cheekbone. His eyes flutter closed. "I'll stay."
He nods, and I go back to burying my face into his skin. It's quiet for a few moments. I draw gentle patterns on his bandaged chest. I hear him laugh quietly. I raise a brow as I hum in question.
"You smell of dragon. And blood."
I let out a small laugh at that.
"I suppose I do."
But I don't make any moves to get up, and neither does he. We stay like that until the sky darkens and our breathing slows. My eyes are half-lidded as I exhale quietly.
"Jace?" I mumble.
"Hm?" I feel his thumb tracing soft patterns back and forth on my hip.
"I love you."
He looks down at me, and I meet his gaze. He presses a kiss against my forehead, letting his lips linger for a few moments.
"I love you too." His voice raw as he whispers the words against my skin.
We fall asleep, me dirtying the sheets in the bed that I'm sure the handmaids will gossip and complain about. But I let the sound of his heartbeat lull me to sleep, knowing he is safe. And I will keep it that way, even if I have to fight the gods themselves.
But for now, we will rest.
(please do NOT steal my writing in any way or rewrite it. don't post it on other sites or feed it through ai, I WILL find you if you do.)
I thought I would be fine bc the worst of jaces death was over but NO I already started crying when ep 2 JUST started lmao 😭😭😭 I literally SOBBED through half of the show, and what made me cry even harder was when I noticed when Rhaenyra was hugging his body it was parallel to when she hugged him when luke died I WANNA CRY AGAIN
Ummm, let's just say I SOBBED after watching ep 1 season 3 of HotD 😀😭😭 JACAERYS MY LOVE, THEY COULD CHANGE THE ENDING OF GOT BUT NOT THIS??? I will probably never emotionally recover, my heart literally hurts bro
IM LITERALLY A WIDOW
Like I literally want to cry while making this 😭 wtf man
I just watched the backrooms movie... y'all I'm so creeped out 😭😭 I have come up with so many theories and I need to go–make a bobby franklin fanfic– watch something else to calm down 💀
