her head tilted slightly, heated glance. "well, perhaps, you are more accustomed to stares, prince jasper." he was not wrong, her own yard was smaller and with fewer people. people who watched her grow with a sword between her hands. but she was sure the baratheon house had a grand yard themselves.
daenaera's interactions with the baratheons did not go to the same lengths as their crowned counterparts, she held them somewhat to the same regard as the other targaryens. she however hadn't expected the approach from the prince. an air of tension, one that she admittedly started. but one that he matched equally.
a cautious smile crossed her face, "are you sure you want to waste your time, training with me?" it felt like there was a catch somewhere, hidden beneath his words. in truth it would be an honor to train against the prince baratheon, and it was that aspect that had her nod her head. "shall we?"
the dance between the two, a mingling of hostility and curiosity, was as palpable as the tension before a storm breaks. jasper's expression remained a mask of cool indifference, yet the depth of his eyes held the fire of many untold emotions. "sometimes i like to be charitable," he stated plainly, each word dripping with a measured combination of aloofness and determination.
he pushed away the little voice in his head that warned him to act cautiously. he could feel himself becoming emotional in a situation he should be able to remain emotionless in. drawing his training sword with a flourish that seemed almost mocking, he continued, the passive-aggression thick in his voice, "let's see if the whispers about house velaryon’s finesse with the blade hold any weight. or if, like many things, they're just fleeting breezes of overblown reputation." the spark in his eyes was challenging, the unspoken duel between them now just as much about familial honour as it was about skill.
without the secure comfort of driftmark, the lady had turned to practice amongst other men. down in the yard, steel clashed against steel and wood against wood for the younger boys. she had practiced in kings landing in the past, but with the additional houses staying there; she found herself unusually hesitant with training.
daenaera wore thickened leather as she clashed the blunted sword against one of her family guards, who had stepped in to fill the role of master at arms. she advanced, and he blocked before making his own hit against her, his strength causing her to stumble back. they continued training until she met his strike with her own, wrenching downward and twisting the hilt in his hand with her sword. the angle of his wrist caused him to release the weapon, where it lay in the dirt.
"very good, my lady." the guard had commended as he bent down and picked the sword back up. "shall we go again?"
"no." she placed the sword among the other blunted steal. "you were going light on me again. if you will not train with me as you would with my brothers, then i will find someone else." her tone was dismissive as she turned her back to him.
she's angry, can feel the frustration slithering itself inside. wrapping around her diaphragm, constricting the ease of breathing. "if you continue to stare, your eyes may rot out of that pretty head of yours." daenaera's eyes flickered to the one nearby.
jasper observed quietly, his stance nonchalant but his eyes sharp on the dueling pair. house velaryon was not high on his list of liked houses given how they seemed to so easily push aside his wife all these years. he continued to watch as daenaera’s frustration boil over before he pushed away from his perch, making his presence more known.
jasper met her intense gaze with an unflinching one of his own. "were i worried about every heated glance thrown my way, lady daenaera, i would've lost my eyesight years ago," he retorted, voice dripping with subtle condescension. "but if you're so bothered by an audience, perhaps you should keep your training to the shadows rather than a public yard."
his gaze was steady, a spark of anticipation flashing in his eyes, curious to see how the velaryon would fare against him. he was, after all, interested to see if the noblewoman’s skill matched her passion for the fight. "if you're seeking a training partner, look no further."
it was as if he'd torn her open and spoke directly to her soul — whispering truths of the universe that had carefully built from the moment they'd met until now ( even if she wished to shed doubt upon how intertwined they were, it would be impossible ). and she had spent years dreaming of this — of someone who knew her inside and out. who desire for nothing more than to be by her side. who dared try to defy everything to stand at her side ( even if it were an unsuccessful attempt ).
rhaenys understood exactly where his struggle stemmed from, for it was one familiar to all born to noble blood. expectation and duty were set upon them long before they drew their first breath — thousands of years of history ( of successful and failed legacies alike ) would sit upon their shoulders and the notion of shaking free of such fate was daunting.
it was ironic, really, that they both seemed to have been so blind until now. blind, until there was such a grand obstacle before them that it seemed near impossible to overcome.
lower lip trembling, it look several seconds for her to wrangle the storm of emotion to manage to speak again ( yet the words that tumbled forth were hardly those she intended ). "i love you." the singular sentence came out far more fractured and broken than she ever would have hoped when revealing such a truth.
"your mother wishes power through a bride but what good will that do if your heart lies with another and you spend your life second guessing if your wife is advising you for the best interests of your family or her own?" blinking away fat tears that were threatening to spill, she shook her head. "i do not fear your mother. or the outrage of the starks and the vast north. perhaps i will become a vulnerability to you — perhaps i already am. but do we not bolster and protect that which makes us vulnerable?"
jasper's gaze, which had been a tempest of emotion, settled on her as she whispered those three sacred words. i love you.the weight of them hung in the air, casting a spell that tethered their souls. the very marrow of his bones thrummed with a warmth that seemed to counter the cold stone beneath them.
for an eternity and an instant all at once, he was rendered speechless, unable to form the words to adequately convey the torrent of emotion that welled up inside him. how had he been so blind, for so many years, to the depths of his feelings for rhaenys? how had he allowed the ties of duty and expectation to cast a shadow over her?
his hazel orbs -- now mirrors of the very storm that raged within -- delved into the deep well of her violet gaze. lost, searching, and finding solace. before he could fully process the depth of his own emotion, he was drawn to her, magnetized by a force far more powerful than mere attraction.
drawing her near, his hands found their way around her waist, holding her with a desperation that suggested the fear of her slipping away. the world faded as their lips collided, their two souls intertwining. as their lips met, it felt like a dam had burst, releasing a deluge of suppressed longing, need, and a love that words could never hope to encapsulate.
breaking the kiss, his breath hitched, the magnitude of the moment dawning upon him. he swallowed, the weight of reality pressing down on him. "marry me," he breathed, the words a fervent plea and a solemn vow. "i know it is absurd. and i know of the storm that awaits us. my mother and father will move the heavens and the earth to stand in our way. but i don’t care. i just want you.”
as the implications of his words settled, a mix of fear, hope, and sheer determination danced in his hazel eyes. for he was willing to risk it all, for the love that had so suddenly and irrevocably consumed him.
the courtyard of the red keep was a testament to the grandeur and majesty of the iron throne. enclosed within the imposing walls of the castle, the courtyard was a lush oasis amidst the bustling of king's landing. tall, verdant trees swayed gently, their leaves rustling with the whispers of countless secrets carried by the wind. between the intricate arches and grand staircases, nobles in splendid attire exchanged quiet words, forming alliances or indulging in fleeting romances under the watchful eyes of targaryen dragons carved in stone.
jasper baratheon, standing tall and distinct amidst the motley of colors and sigils, wore a regal ensemble of black and gold. the emblematic stag of house baratheon adorned his chest, asserting his noble lineage. sunlight filtered through the lofty trees, casting fleeting shadows across his chiseled features, painting him in alternating hues of light and dark. his hazel eyes surveyed the scenery, catching the gleaming spires of the sept of baelor in the distance and the shimmering waters of blackwater bay beyond.
a thoughtful expression creased his brow, and he spoke, his voice resonating with genuine curiosity. “this courtyard has seen more history than many entire realms, a silent witness to countless tales of ambition, betrayal, and honor." his gaze, momentarily distracted by the sunlit shimmer of the distant bay returned to the noble before him. "i would love to hear more of your own ancestral lands — they must harbor tales of equal weight and wonder. what stories from your homeland might you share?"
had he asked such a questions days ( or even hours ) prior, there would have been no hesitation in her response. rhaenys was not blind to how carefully woven jasper had become in the tapestry that made up her life — there was no one that held a position of higher standing ; no one whose words she trusted more. never once had she felt a need to question it, and perhaps that was the root cause of the problem. those rose colored glasses she'd donned when it came to him ripping off so harshly when presented with a face of his she'd never been privy too. the one who placed duty above all else.
fingers clenched into the fabric of her skirt in attempt to quell their shaking ( to physically stop herself from wanting to sooth the emotion so evident in his voice ). "what would you have me think?" she murmured, brow furrowing as amethyst hues skated across his expression a final time before dropping away from him entirely.
"you would rather dance with me then any princess. you do not wish to be bound by duty or arranged marriages." tossing the words back at him, rhaenys does little to hide the soft scoff of discontent that escapes her. "those are rather honeyed words for a man who did not so much as hesitate to be swept away by such things when your betrothed appeared."
"i do not know what i think because clearly i do not know you as well as i thought." the admission is spoken softly ( the words leaving her throat tight ; fingers tightening around silks in hopes that she might be capable of distracting from the discomfort ). "i will not — i cannot stand witness to you with another. i thought i would be capable of it. that i could live in such a reality but i will not survive it."
jasper stood there, rooted in place, the cold stone floor beneath him feeling like the only anchor in a whirlwind of emotion. the rich tapestries that adorned the corridor's walls seemed muted and blurred, as if all the color in the world paled in comparison to the tumult he felt inside.
confess. let her in. show her the depths of your soul, a voice echoed through the vast chambers of his mind. yet, an insidious whisper countered, painting vivid, harrowing images of the tempest that would descend if he dared to reveal the blazing truth of his heart. he had always danced on the fine line of political intrigue, adeptly navigating the treacherous waters, but he never envisioned being trapped in its snare, nor did he anticipate the potential danger he could place rhaenys in.
a chilling thought crawled over him like the caress of a shadow in the dusk. to forget his duty, to go against his family’s wishes, and make her his. all his life, it was about the legacy, about ensuring the baratheon and targaryen name stood tall amidst the storms of time. duty was the mantle he bore, even when it chafed against the raw, unbridled desires of his heart. but rhaenys wasn't a mere distraction. she was the calming lighthouse in his tempestuous world, the woman who peered beneath the armor of a prince and glimpsed the vulnerable man beneath.
"rhae," his voice wavered, a soft breeze in the still night, "you believe you do not truly know me, yet you are the only soul in this realm who truly does. with you, the walls i've built crumble to dust, every shield i've raised shatters like fragile glass. there's no need for the charade, for in your gaze, i feel seen, understood, and accepted, in all my flaws."
the dim light from the torches cast a golden glow, making his hazel eyes shimmer as they sought solace in hers. "every agonizing step i took away from you tonight, playing the part expected of me, felt like a blade cleaving my very soul. this engagement to the stark princess, it's not a matter of the heart, but the shackles of a role i never chose. if only words could convey the depths of my longing to cast it all aside and claim my place by your side. i refused the engagement, but it didn't matter."
his hands clenched, the white of his knuckles visible in the dim light, as he continued, voice hushed, laced with fear and hope, "but the specter of danger that looms over my feelings is what haunts my every waking moment. my mother, in her relentless pursuit of power, her and my father, would not hesitate if they deemed you a vulnerability. the very thought of harm befalling you..." his voice trailed, a silence filled with unspoken dread lingering between them. his parents were not bad people, but would be willingly to do whatever they deemed it took to ensure the family's legacy.
"is that so?” the question was spoken softly before a soft hum of content escaped her, lips flashing him a winning smile. “how far does my influence stretch? perhaps i shall some day have to test it.” she teased. the soft laughter that had escaped with her words slowed before amethyst hues flickered back to him, “i am endlessly grateful for your presence, ñuha velkrys.”
there was nothing but tease in his tone, yet her heart trips and stumbles at his words before seeming to stutter to a complete halt. the valyrian woman wasn’t certain if the sharp ache in her chest is from how entirely pleased such a thing would make her — or simply due to the fact that she knows that it truly is nothing but a good natured tease. drawing her gaze from him in feigned interest for those fluttering around them, rhaenys can only hope it’s enough to hide the riot of emotion that flitters behind her gaze. “do not speak so loud, my prince, or my father is bound to hear and will hold you to such a thing,” she muses — the chuckle she offers a mere after thought. there isn’t a lick of hesitation at the next question, her head dipping into the affirmative. “of course i do. i just wish for it to be on my own terms — to be with a man i love.” a singular shoulder shrugs— a dismissal of that desire. it’s a dream that is unlikely to be a reality, given her circumstance.
“hmm?” interest piqued by the statement, her entire attention focuses back on him. “someone has caught your attention and you’ve not told me? oh — please tell me you haven’t told harrion either! he’d never let me live it down.” gods above, why did the knowledge someone had caught his attention only increase the ache in her chest tenfold. “who is the lady?”
jasper's heart rate spiked, its rhythm akin to the rapid beat of war drums. the air in the hall seemed thicker, and the weight of rhaenys' words coupled with her luminous gaze held him captive. on a heady whim, born from both mischief and an undeniable yearning, he inhaled deeply and let his voice boom across the hall, "i wish to take this woman's hand!" the proclamation echoed, momentarily silencing the hum of courtly chatter. noble heads swiveled their way, eyes widening, lips forming half-whispered comments and hushed speculations – some confused by jasper’s actions while other rolling their eyes, long grown accustomed to the storm prince’s humour.
as the court reacted, jasper was intensely aware of every detail: the soft gasps of surprised ladies, the shuffle of shoes against marble, the flickering of candles that cast long, undulating shadows against the walls. but all of these faded as he pivoted back to rhaenys, his hand finding the warmth of her waist, drawing her close. for a suspended moment, the world shrunk to just the two of them. their locked gaze was a universe unto itself, deep and boundless, filled with hidden promises and unspoken words.
what am i doing? jasper's mind raced, even as he held her. the intimacy of the gesture, the depth of emotion in that shared moment, was both exhilarating and terrifying. he could feel the thrum of her pulse, the heat of her breath, and the softness of her skin against his fingertips. but as the initial rush waned, he gently, almost reluctantly, released her, creating a small chasm of space between them. the atmosphere was thick, charged with emotion and expectation.
swallowing the knot in his throat, his voice returned, softer now but laced with genuine curiosity. "rhae," he stated softly, each syllable wrapped in warmth, "tell me, when you dream of a future, what kind of man stands beside you? a lord draped in titles and the weight of responsibility, or perhaps a humble man with only passion and a penny to his name? beyond lineage and lands, what qualities make your heart race, make you feel truly alive?"
before she could frame a response, he leaned in, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "as for the lady who has caught my attention," he paused for dramatic effect, the teasing glint in his eyes returning. "you may or may not know her quite well. in fact, i dare say you might be intimately acquainted."
no need for formalities? a hesitant glance is tossed in the direction of the other man, momentarily questioning exactly what the others angle might be. there might not appear to be deceit in his voice, but abraxas knew well enough that court life was all cloak and daggers. finely crafted masks of friendliness that could easily be disguising a knife raising to stab your back. “be that as it may, old habits,” he murmured as an excuse, knowing he could count on one hand the number of people outside of his family he would so easily drop formalities around.
even with that piece of information, dark hues continues to flit about the space, knowing it would be near impossible to spot the wisp of a woman. never before had he cared to acknowledge the other family — to familiarize himself with those that had so long been more enemy than neighbor.
it took effort to bite his tongue ( to remind himself that no longer would there be a lasting feud between the two families ). it was almost instinct to dislike the brackens ( so finely engrained into the blackwood line ), yet he was the one to cauterize the issue entirely. a fact he needed to come to terms with sooner rather than later. “we kept the old gods, when the faith came to westeros, a fact our once good allies disagreed with and a feud bloodily spiraled from there.” he comments. “wars have been waged over stupider things, i suppose.” for some reason, his mind flickered to jenny of oldstones and the dragonfly prince ( a tale his late wife had been oddly fond of ). “but i have five children.” the man chuckled fondly, swinging his gaze back toward the other man. “i would much prefer to spend my time with their care and well being than settling the petty disputes i saw my father deal with when he held my seat. and marriages… well, they tend to assist in bringing peace and i needed a wife.”
as jasper stood there, he felt the soft murmur of countless conversations filling the grand hall. the delicate sound of stringed instruments serenading the guests provided a melodic backdrop, their harmonious tunes juxtaposed with the subtle clink of goblets and the rustling of silk. each candle's flame danced delicately, casting shadows that flickered against the vaulted stone walls, creating an enchanting, almost ethereal ambiance. the scent of roasted meats, fragrant spices, and floral arrangements was heady, melding into a medley that was both comforting and luxurious.
jasper raised a quizzical eyebrow, taking a moment to sip from his own goblet, the rich red wine briefly grounding him. the sensation of the liquid was a welcomed distraction from the maze of political intrigue he often found himself navigating. setting his cup down, a hint of a smirk played at the corner of his lips. "you need a wife?" he mused aloud, the playful irony in his voice contrasting the gravitas of their discussion.
his hazel eyes, ever curious and often analytical, scanned abraxas as he leaned slightly forward, his stance deliberate yet relaxed. "with five children and several heirs to stand testament to your legacy, one might argue that your duties, in that regard, are more than fulfilled." inwardly, jasper questioned the sometimes perplexing customs of their world. why this perpetual need to entwine fates for political gain, even after one's heart has already known love and loss?
"if i were in your boots," he began, feeling the plush rug beneath his own feet as he shifted his weight, "i might've been content with the legacy i'd already built, choosing to remain unwed unless... unless fate presented someone truly exceptional." he sighed softly, the weight of his own expectations for the future pressing on his mind. "our realm has this unrelenting obsession with the act of remarrying, particularly once a spouse departs this world. even when an heir is secured, the cycle persists. i've often found it puzzling."
his gaze momentarily strayed, watching a pair of dancers twirl gracefully nearby, their movements a dance of trust and harmony. "but back to your union with house bracken," he redirected, his tone gentler, probing but not accusatory. "i understand the profound desire to heal age-old wounds. but was joining your life with a bracken the sole path to peace? was there not a simpler course? one less bound by potential complications and old resentments?" he tilted his head, genuinely seeking to fathom the depths of abraxas's decision.
from the recent live event! ( ft. a brief appearance of wylla stark ! )
rhaenys velaryon: silks kissed her ankles as the woman spun once more, swinging back to face her partner as the music drew to an end ( lips tugging into a grand smile as she joined the rest of the floor in applauding the musicians ; amethyst hues glancing over her shoulder to do so ). "one more, my lord, i beg of you," she giggled, turning toward her partner only to falter at the sight of a new face. "oh - good evening."
jasper baratheon: as the dance drew to a close, jasper's gaze flickered towards the woman standing before him, her amethyst eyes twinkling with delight. he felt an uncomfortable twinge in his chest, a sense of longing mixed with a pang of jealousy at the sight of her with another man. "ōz azantys," he greeted, the nickname he saved only for her feeling familiar and right as it left his lips. he attempted a smile, but his eyes betrayed a touch of disappointment, "may i have this next dance?”
rhaenys velaryon: the woman blinked in surprise at the sight of the baratheon prince. "ñuha velkrys," she returned without thought, eyes flickering across his faltering expression before turning to offer her apologies to her former partner ; giving half-hearted promises of finding them later for another dance. once the other man had disappeared, the velaryon turned toward jasper with a hesitant smile. "a rather foolish question you should know the answer to," she murmured, offering out her hand.
jasper baratheon: Jasper's heart, akin to a caged bird yearning for freedom, fluttered with anticipation as he reached out his hand, an offering akin to a fragile rose bud unfurling its petals to the warmth of the sun. "forgive my foolishness," he answered, his voice filled with a hint of playfulness. he didn't bother to acknowledge the man she was just dancing with; seizing the opportunity to use his title to outrank him. he paused, a fleeting moment of hesitation, as he drank in her presence. a smile, gentle and sincere, graced his lips, illuminating his features like the first rays of dawn. "hi."
rhaenys velaryon: despite the fact that they are surrounded by others, rhaenys can't help but roll her eyes at his playful response. "forgiven, i suppose." slipping her hand into his, she offers his fingers a gentle squeeze. "hi," she can't help but mimic, a soft, teasing laugh escaping her. it's easy to fall right back into things ; but it's only a moment before she's remember what had left her so stiff the previous day and her gaze flickers away from him ( a poor attempt to quell her sudden roar of emotions ). she wants to ask him about the betrothal but diverts from the idea immediately. "you did well in the joust," she offers. "i cheered for you."
jasper baratheon: he couldn't help but be drawn to the flicker of rhaenys' orbs as they rolled, her playful response echoing through the depths of his soul. he felt himself wanting to savor the warmth of her touch, their fingers intertwining in a silent dance of connection. "hi," he repeated, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, a symphony of affection laced within. his gaze followed the fleeting shift in her expression, a fleeting glimpse of something unspoken, and he couldn't resist teasing, "well, i appreciate your enthusiastic cheers, though i'm not sure finishing last qualifies as 'doing well' in a joust."
rhaenys velaryon: this time, the laugh that escapes her is softer at the repeated greeting ( eyes flickering to him with an amused, yet questioning glance before falling away from him once more ). "the knights and lords of all of westeros are here in kings landing, yet you were one of the few to test your skills before the masses. give yourself credit where it is due - though if you do not wish for the praise perhaps i should go offer it to lord redwyne instead. he is the one who bested you, is he not?" she inquires, words a lilting tease as she dragged him into the first steps of the dance.
jasper baratheon: as the music swirled around them, the pair move in perfect harmony, their steps a graceful dance of connection and unspoken understanding. at her playful mentioning of lord redwyne, jasper's hand found its way to her waist, a subtle possessive touch that conveyed a silent message of his claim on her heart. "i very much like you here." he whispered playfully, "with me." it is you who holds my heart's prize.
rhaenys velaryon: had he said such a thing mere days before, rhaenys was certain her heart would have melted - that she would have quipped something back that toed that fine line of friends and something more they seemed to enjoy dancing along. stiffening slightly in his hold, her head turns from him. "you'll have me until the stark princess whisks you away," she manages, though the tease tastes far more bitter on her tongue.
jasper baratheon: jasper's playful demeanor faltered for a moment as he sensed the change in rhaenys' tone. a flicker of irritation danced in his eyes, mingling with a tinge of frustration. it was not directed towards her, but rather for he was the one responsible for her frustration. he tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her closer as if to reassure her. "you know i would rather be dancing with you than any princess in the realm," he whispered, his voice tinged with sincerity.
rhaenys velaryon: with the distance between them growing smaller, a huff escapes her. it's a bold move ; eye drawing even, but her brain is side tracked from a teasing scold by his words. hues snap back to him ; the emotional turmoil is evidently dancing within her gaze. "but she isn't just any princess," she argues back, voice lowering to keep from drawing attention of those around them, "she is to be your princess. and you - you should not be saying such things to me. not - not anymore."
jasper baratheon: as rhaenys voiced her concerns, a flicker of fear flashed across his hazel orbs, betraying the depth of his emotions momentairly. he took a moment to collect his thoughts, his voice tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and desperation. "you're right, she isn't just any princess. but i don't want this, rhae. i don't want to be bound by duty, by arranged marriages. i want…” he paused, “the heart rarely follows the path laid out by duty.” the song had ended but he still kept his hand on her waist. “is that what you want?” for them to stop?
rhaenys velaryon: she's so busy looking at him ; gaze flickering between his own dark hues that rhaenys hardly notices that the dance has drawn to a close ( the woman startling at the applause around them for the musicians yet making no move to step away from him ). it's never that easy, shunning duty, she wants to say. swallowing around the lump thats formed in her throat, she offers a silent shake of her head. "of course not," the words might be eaten over the chatter around them, but rhaenys can't repeat them. "what do you want, jasper?"
jasper baratheon: as the music faded into the background, jasper's gaze remained locked with rhaenys', oblivious to the shifting partners and the bustling crowd around them. a sense of relief washed over him at her words, a glimmer of hope lighting up his eyes. he felt the weight of his desires and the constraints of their circumstances bearing down on him, a bittersweet realization. for a moment, his thoughts flickered to the presence of his parents; already imagining the disapproving gaze and the scolding words they would bestow upon him later for ignoring his betrothed, and remain so captivated by rhae. “i want…” you. “it doesn't matter what i want.”
rhaenys velaryon: brows furrow at the answer, entirely unsatisfied. there had once been a time she was certain they'd told one another everything, but recently it seemed emotions and wants were more selective ( from the both of them, it seemed ). "what you want matters to me." sliding the hand that had previously rested on his shoulder to rest on his chest, she gave the material covering his flesh a sharp tug ( a silent reprimand ). "tell me what you want." it's less a question and more a demand this time.
wylla stark: “ricasso.” she repeated, though it felt strange at first, she rather preferred it. “call me wylla then, please.” she mirrored the sentiment. at his comment, blue hues flickered to the sword and back to ricasso, cheeks flushing slightly as she tried to hide it with a laugh. “interesting to know.” she admitted, eyes suddenly locking on jasper now, realizing they were closer, she moved them to where she accidentally nudged the stag prince’s shoulder with her own. her hands broke from their positions on the dornish prince as she feigned shock. “apologies, it seems i tripped over my own feet.” she insisted.
jasper baratheon: as her dissatisfaction lingered in the air, jasper sensed the weight of her unspoken expectations. what did she want from him? to declare to the world his desperation to break off his engagement? to defy the constraints of a marriage he never desired? his hazel eyes dropped to where her hand rested on his chest, resisting the urge to envelop it with his own. "not here," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and longing. just then, an accidental collision interrupted their moment, providing a convenient diversion. jasper stepped away from rhae, his heart heavy with apology as he turned towards wylla and the dornish prince. clearing his throat, he interrupted their dance, seeking a temporary escape. "may i?"
rhaenys velaryon: had there not been a minor collision, the woman would have insisted that they speak elsewhere ; perhaps even that instance ( whether it was her own feelings getting in the way, or years of friendship leaking through or a mix of both was uncertain ). but it was enough for amethyst hues to tear away from him and land on a familiar red head. all color drained from her face almost immediately and her mouth opened as if to excuse their closeness, but when jasper stepped away without so much as a goodbye or another glance in her direction, the velayron woman stiffened. offering a slight curtsey toward his back and the other royals present, rhaenys a murmured word of departure before swiftly turning on her heel and fleeing from the scene.
Baratheons.....were slow witted, and quick tempered. Ricasso was sure they could also barely read. This Jasper figure did not strike him as the exception that common truths about his family. Still he supposed it would be the right thing to do to offer his condolences. Finding the other in the hall, leaning against a window, Ricasso approached.
"I just wanted to offer my sorrows. I could only imagine how it must feel. Losing a grandmother, and an uncle so closely together. Were you close to them?"
with a slow turn of his head, jasper's searching hazel eyes met ricasso's. there was a veiled caution in them, a tempered wariness that came from a lifetime of navigating the treacherous waters of politics and alliances. the sharp angles of his face were accentuated by the faint light streaming through the window, casting him in an almost regal silhouette.
"thank you for your condolesnces, prince ricasso.” he straightened up from his lean against the window, the full height of his baratheon lineage evident. "but to sate your curiosity," jasper continued, eyes never leaving ricasso's, "i held both in high regard. family is, after all, the backbone of our identities." the lies slipped so easily off his lips. he was close with his grandmother, but did not consider himself close to his uncle.
there was a brief pause, the tension palpable, before jasper continued, "is there something else on your mind, prince? i hope you find the climate of the stormlands to your liking, given its vast difference from the warmth of dorne." the underlying message was clear: jasper hadn't forgotten past grievances, and he was watchful of the dornishman's intentions.
If there was any benefit to be had from this trip, Gwyn could at least say that the Red Keep's library was remarkable. She had put a fair amount of work into restoring the library of Ten Towers to the glory Rodrik the Reader had once created, but it was still nothing compared the sheer volume and variety available here.
Perhaps now, more than ever, did she feel the call of reaving like her ancestors. If she thought it possible to steal large tomes and escape back to the Isles with them, repercussion free, she would have done so in a heartbeat. Somehow though, she doubted her people would think the iron price worth some dusty old books - especially when risking angering the Southern crown to gain them.
That didn't mean she couldn't enjoy them while her time here lasted. And she had certainly been making the most of it. She'd already read through a fair number of books and had a sheaf of notes near as thick as her hand to remind herself of all the interesting tales she'd gathered here.
Despite being spoken to directly, it took a moment for Gwyn to filter what had been said and to drag her eyes away from her latest find, only for them to widen slightly in surprise. She had to admit, despite knowing the typical look of Baratheons, part of her had still expected a slight, scrawny, bookish boy to be behind the eloquent, thought provoking letters she'd been receiving these last few years.
"There's only one man you can be, I suppose." Keeping her book clasped to her chest, she offered a messy almost curtsey, "Prince Jasper Baratheon, a pleasure." Despite the formality of her words, her lips were still quirked into half a smirk, eyes twinkling with mirth and it took no time at all for her to continue, referencing his letters, "If you truly want the oldest tales of Nagga and the Grey King, then I expect to hear something good in return."
jasper chuckled warmly, tilting his head with a roguish glint in his hazel eyes. "ah, the full title? if we're to be friends, my lady, then you should know there's a strict rule in place. friends, and especially esteemed letter companions, must call me simply by my name. formalities are reserved for courtiers and strangers," he teased though his tone is also genuine.
moving with the easy grace of one familiar with the libraries of grand keeps, jasper selected a chair across from gwyn, his motions as fluid as the winds of shipbreaker bay. in one quick movement, he sprawled himself into it, looking every bit the relaxed prince and less the courtly figure many expected. he leaned forward, placing his chin atop the tented fingers of his hands, looking very much the eager student.
a slow, sly smile crept onto his lips. "so, esteemed lady harlaw, what scholarly wisdom do you intend to impart on this humble student today? i’ve cleared my schedule in hopes of a tale or two."
"i trust king's landing is treating you well, gwyn?"
A smile is on Cassandra's lips even before she lifts her eyes to meet her brother's. Of anyone that could have walked through the doors, she is grateful it is one of her siblings, and not some lord hoping to manipulate her. Though she knew that it was only a matter of time before such a lord would appear. Both her elevation in station and relation to Daeron himself were guarantee itself.
"It pleases me to hear that, Jas." She says, back straightening with pride ever so slightly even as her nose crinkles at the use of her childhood nickname. There were few that used it, and she would never begrudge her family its use. "And I shall serve our cousin as no other that's held this position has before or ever will again." Of that, the Baratheon princess was confident.
Curiosity reared its head then, however, and with a brow raised she inquired, "But what brings you here besides paying compliments to your dear elder sister?"
jasper's warm smile lingered as he settled into a chair opposite cassandra, his hazel eyes glinting with a mix of affection and amusement. "what?” he shrugged at her questioning the reason for his visit, “can't a brother be proud of his sister and wish to visit her to tell her just that?" he replied playfully, a hint of mischief in his tone. his tone was lighthearted, teasing his sister with affectionate sarcasm.
his playful demeanor transitioned seamlessly into a more serious one as he leaned forward, his voice carrying the weight of their family's responsibilities. "i wanted to discuss the treaties, cassie," he said, his tone now tinged with earnestness. "i want you, orryn and myself to discuss what we want from the treaty. not what mother and father want nor discuss what is in the best interest of all of westeros, but rather house baratheon. to figure out what we feel is genuinely best for the stormlands and our people." he took a moment to let his words sink in, wanting her to understand the gravity of their discussion. "your position puts us at an advantage."
"perhaps a separate alliance between the stormlands and the north could be formed, especially given my engagement to wylla stark." he did not wish to wed the northern princess, but if his hands were tied and he was forced to, he’d at least want to make his sacrifice worth it.
amidst the quiet elegance of the keep's grand library, where ancient tomes and scrolls held the secrets of previous eras, jasper baratheon stood still as he took in the vast collection that surrounded him. while the library of storm's end was indeed vast and impressive, the library within the red keep held a unique allure of its own. nothing could compare.
it was a treasure trove of ancient tomes, rare manuscripts, and historical records meticulously preserved over the centuries the scent of aged parchment filled the air, and the dim glow of candles illuminated the intricate woodwork that adorned the walls. it was a sanctuary of knowledge, a place where the stories of westeros were preserved for generations to come.
as he wandered between the shelves, his searching hazel eyes eventually caught sight of a figure that stood out amidst the sea of courtiers. clad in attire that spoke of her ironborn heritage, lady gwynesse harlaw stood to the side, her nose in the book she was reading. the stark contrast of her garments against the more traditional gowns of other noblewomen caught jasper's attention, and a sense of familiarity washed over him.
it was through the letters they had exchanged over the years that jasper could easily recognize her, even without a formal introduction. her distinctive choice of attire, adorned with subtle yet unmistakable ironborn motifs, marked her as a unique presence in the court. there was an air of strength and independence about her that set her apart from the rest, and jasper found himself drawn to the enigma she embodied.
“well i be damned," he stated playfully, "i finally get to see the face behind the quill after all these years.”
Master of Laws. In all the histories of Westeros, a woman had yet to hold such a position. And it was rare enough for a woman to have a position on the Small Council at all. Cassandra could not say why her cousin elected her. But who was she to refuse? Daeron needed to surround himself with family, now more than ever. And the Baratheon princess knew the laws better than any man she had ever met.
So, she sat at her desk in the office appointed to her in the Red Keep, a small space overlooking Blackwater Bay (and thankfully high enough to ward off the stench of the city and its waters). Hearing a knock at her door, Cassandra raises a hand to motion to the guards. "Enter." Her tone is even, brown eyes refusing to waver from the papers in front of her.
the heavy oak door creaked open, and the storm prince stepped into his eldest sister's office, a fond smile gracing his lips as he beheld cassandra, the newly appointed mistress of laws. the pride he felt for her was palpable, like a warm glow enveloping his heart. he admired her strength, intelligence, and determination, seeing in her the embodiment of the baratheon spirit.
"mistress of laws suits you," jasper remarked, his voice laced with genuine admiration. he leaned against a nearby pillar, crossing his arms casually, his hazel eyes never leaving his sister's form. "i always knew you were meant for greatness, cassie," he added affectionately, using the childhood nickname that had stuck with her throughout the years.
as he stood there, watching her work, he couldn't help but marvel at her command over the papers and the matters of the realm. it was a sight to behold, like witnessing a seasoned captain skillfully steering a majestic ship through treacherous waters. he knew cassandra was deserving of her position, but he also wasn’t blind to the fact that his mother’s political influence likely helped secure it.
( following the scene on the dancefloor during the live event ! )
'you know i would rather be dancing with you than any princess in the realm.'
what a farce, she thought, a scoff ripping from her throat as slippered feet drew her further away from the celebrations in favor of returning to her chambers.
for a man claiming he wanted nothing to do with his arranged marriage ; that the heart rarely followed the path of duty, he'd certainly wasted no time completely dropping her in favor of the stark princess. departing from the velaryon woman without so much as a word. that was, perhaps, what hurt the most. rhaenys had spent years eating up the words he'd spoken to her — believing him so wholeheartedly that witnessing the emptiness of them had shifted her world on its axis.
she was spiraling, rhaenys distantly noted. the subtle shaking of her fingers before they were balled into fists at her side ; the agonizing ache in her chest ; the distinct dampness of tears on her cheeks. she felt like a fool for allowing her heart liberties. for allowing hopes of romance to cloud her vision and distort reality.
never had she been one to flee ( choosing to face adversaries head on ) — but now it was all she could focus on ; putting as much distance between herself and the disappointing realization behind her. she'd mentioned lys to harrion so off handedly — but the option seemed golden. distance may not be a solution to a broken heart, but it would help ( better than to watch the man she loved marry another ).
rhaenys was in the midst of trying to formulate some sort of plan ( which was no better than grasping at straws, given how jumbled her thoughts were ) when the call of her name tugged at the corner of her mind. she'd been keen to ignore it, but when another attempt was made, this time closer, her consciousness seemed to roar back to the present. she wished to ignore him, but jaspers' strides were far longer than her own, and they were still a distance from her chambers. he'd catch her long before they reached her destination and the very last thing she wanted to do was see him, let alone speak with him.
"eman daorun naejot ivestragon ao!" i have nothing to say to you! she snapped, whirling on her heel to stare at him. "jikagon arlī naejot aōha dārilaros." go back to your princess.
jasper baratheon tood amidst the grandeur of the great hall, his heart felt like a tempestuous sea, torn between loyalty and desire. his hazel eyes darted between rhaenys and wylla, like a ship caught in a tumultuous storm, uncertain of which course to chart. he could feel the weight of his mother's expectant gaze, the invisible strings of politics tugging at him, guiding him toward the stark princess. but deep within him, a fire burned for rhaenys, like an inferno that refused to be extinguished.
caught in the web of political intrigue, jasper knew that he had to keep up appearances, to pretend to keep up the facade of his impending partnership with wylla. he knew the consequences of defying his mother's schemes and the potential repercussions if he did anything otherwise – she would not only punish him, but likely rhaenys too. yet, in this tangled dance of duty and desire, he couldn't bear the thought of hurting rhaenys, like a thorn piercing his soul.
with each step he took away from rhaenys, a whirlwind of emotions roared within him. he questioned his decisions, second-guessed his every move, and berated himself for not realizing his feelings sooner. for the first time, he found himself contemplating the idea of marriage, a life intertwined with rhaenys, raising a family together, and even willing to potentially abandon his plans to separate himself from the dragons and secure the stormland’s independence.
but it was too late. the damage had been done, and the look on rhaenys’s face haunted him like a ghostly apparition. her lilac eyes betrayed her pain, and he felt the walls of the great hall closing in around him, suffocating him with guilt. in a moment of desperation, he broke away from the dance with wylla, rushing to find rhaenys before she disappeared from his life forever.
out in the dimly lit corridors, he spotted her silhouette, like a beacon of hope in the darkness. he called out to her, his voice cracking with emotion. "rhae, please, wait!" he implored, his words echoing through the stone walls. in that moment, he would have fallen to his knees, like a supplicant before a queen, if it meant winning her forgiveness.
as she turned to face him, he saw the raw emotion in her eyes, like a wounded animal seeking solace.
"eman daorun naejot ivestragon ao!" i have nothing to say to you! she declared, whirling on her heel to stare at him. "jikagon arlī naejot aōha dārilaros." go back to your princess.
"is that truly what you think?" he asked softly, his voice trembling with vulnerability as he speaks in valyrian. "that i could even think about wanting someone else who isn't you?" his heart laid bare, like an open book, he hoped that she would see the truth in his words, the depth of his love for her, and understand that he was willing to defy the world for her.
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