Blood of Fire Chapter Three Jacaerys Velaryon x Servant Reader
Chapter Summary: Invited to play with the Princes yet again, You bring Helyn along to enjoy the fun.
Additional Tags: @number-0-iz @akinatrix
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem Reader
Gifs:
1) Jacaerys swordplaying (terribly lol)
2) Your best friend and fellow chambermaid Helyn
The following day Helyn recovered miraculously, returning to the maiden's chamber practically skipping.
“Did you miss me terribly?” She asked, throwing herself on to your bed. “I shall admit while I wasted away on the brink of death, it was your sweet sweet memory that kept me alive!”
“That is a shame, I had prayed for The Stranger to take you quickly. Perhaps he couldn’t handle your mouth either.”
She brought her hand over her heart, feigning a hurt expression.
“My love! Why must you wound me so!”
When she reaches out to pull you into an embrace, you dance out of her grasp.
“Well, I am glad you are feeling better. Yesterday was very dull without you.”
“Was it now? From what I hear, you’ve already replaced me with a pair of dashing princes!”
Your mouth drops open from the shock. As far as you knew Helyn had been locked away in complete isolation until this morning, with only a single physician allowed to see her. Even then it was sparingly; to deliver soups and potions. How on Earth did she know already?
She laughs at your expression.
“Rule number one about this place; if you do anything out of the ordinary someone will notice. Rule number two; news travels fast here! So tell me Y/N, since when were you and the royal princes so chummy?”
You roll your eyes at that, returning to your previous task of fastening your stockings in place. Helyn had confirmed that she was ten years old, two years your senior, so you honestly didn’t know how she managed to stay so immature. Perhaps she was an only child with no siblings to check her? Or maybe she was an orphan starved of attention? It occurred to you then how little you actually knew about her.
“Helyn, who are your parents?”
Her eyes bulged at your question, caught off guard. And for a moment she looks confused, before she smirks, sly as a fox.
“You’re trying to change the subject, aren't you?”
She jumps to her feet, pointing. Irritated,you push her arm down.
“No, I'm just curious. You’ve never talked about your parents. Or your siblings. Or where you're from-”
“No, I suppose I haven't…I could tell you my life's tale, if I care to. Only if you tell me what happened!”
It was only fair, you supposed. If you had been the one who had taken ill, and Helyn was the one playing with the princes, whom she never interacted with before…You would want an explanation as well. Besides, it wasn't like yesterday's events were excitingly scandalous. As Prince Jacaerys explained, the princess had overlooked such breaches in protocol before. And at this point it was almost expected that the young boys should play with other children- regardless of rank.
The firm, cutting voice of Lady Jeyne Waters stops you short.
“Your training is not yet finished, if you recall.”
Before you turn to leave, Helyn fixes you with a look that seems to say: This isn’t over.
Your lessons consist of standing for hours on end, pouring countless goblets of wine, and mending holes in several pairs of socks.
If Lady Jeyne disapproved of yesterday's behavior, she doesn’t let it show.
“Now pull your thread all the way through- don’t pull too tight!”
You follow her instructions, carefully, before continuing your criss cross pattern.
“Once you get to the top of the tear, move your stitches closer together.”
When the fabric is connected by the thread, you gently pull the string to close up the hole, and tie it off in a small tight knot.
“Good, very well done Y/N. Your stitches have vastly improved! Perhaps tomorrow I’ll have you mend one of the princesses skirts.”
You remember those grand, flamboyant black gowns you’ve seen the said princess wearing. With their long trains, scaled fabric and delicate embroidery… You doubted if you would be able to handle it. What if you messed it up?
“Do not worry, you’ll begin small. And sooner than you think, you will be sewing the most magnificent dresses.”
She holds up her own work- a long stretch of spectacular blue satin trimmed with silver lace. It reminds you of a peaceful flowing river, a calm open sky and the precious jewels you’ve seen depicted in portraits around the castle.
“Is that for the princess? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her outside of her house colors.”
Lady Jeyne nods, threading another needle. You can’t help but marvel at how graceful her old hands move. Even when she sews, her fingers seem to dance- light and airy- just above her fabric. Like a dragonfly that skits just above a water’s surface. Someday, you wished you could sew like that.
“Indeed, the princess is a very proud lady who represents her house well. But she always makes an exception for Mother’s Eve. It is her favorite holiday I think. She’s never made such a fuss over Maidens Day or Fathers Feast Day. Not only will there be beautiful gowns, but a grand feast, tournaments, masques and dancing!”
“Truly?” Back home, Mother’s Eve was celebrated in a simple manner. The fishermen and farmers only had to work half the day, while the women spent their hours cooking. If the weather was good enough, neighbors brought their tables and stools outside so the village could celebrate together. Prayer to The Mother Above was given. All the mothers and grandmothers were honored by having the first pick of all the food. Then the feast would end with a great toast to The Mother and the countless blessings she had granted you all.
“Yes, by then we will have many noble ladies and young gentlemen to watch and serve. Won’t that be exciting?”
The reminder hits you again. No, you will not wear a pretty gown or dance or give your favor to handsome knights. Just like how you will never swing a sword, ride a dragon or marry a prince. You remembered your mothers voice all those weeks ago; “The Gods made and shaped the Targaryens to rule, we were made and shaped to be ruled.”
The nobles were born and bred to take and enjoy. You were born and bred to make and endure. That was the way of things.
When you finished mending all the socks, Lady Jeyne dismissed you swiftly; now fully absorbed in her needlework.
Of course Helyn was waiting for you outside the chamber.
“How was her majesty today?” You attempt, trying to be polite.
“She is most well. But last I checked, we were not speaking of her grace this morning.”
There was never ever beating around the bush with Helyn. She always seemed to speak bluntly and to the point, a quality you both liked and disliked. It annoyed you at times like this, but her intentions were pure. She was just genuinely curious- and had every right to be.
You take her arm in yours, as you make your way to your usual playing spot on the South side of the tower.
“It wasn’t such a big deal as you're making it to be. The two princes simply invited me to play with them because they needed a third player. So we played a couple of chasing games in Aegon's Garden until supper. I haven’t seen or spoken to them since.”
“So they approached you? How?”
You explain the whole tale to her; you venturing into Aegon’s Garden on your own. Discovering Prince Lucerys hiding in a bush whilst playing with his brother. Prince Jacaerys inviting you to their very boring game. You showing them how to play a real game. Princess Rhaenyra interrupting from the balcony. And the two princes running away once the game was over- you winning of course.
“Wait, The Princess saw you? And she wasn’t upset?”
“No, as I said, she just wanted to remind us to finish before supper. Prince Jacaerys explained that they do this all the time. Apparently they played with the serving children often back in King's Landing. There was no one else for them to play with.”
“So you played with them, and didn’t let them win?”
She broke away, exasperated.
“Y/N you can’t just best them! They are your betters! You have to let them win- at everything!”
When you recalled yesterday's events, the princes didn’t seem too upset at their loss. Jacaerys was irritated to say the least, but bid you a pleasant farwell when he departed. Lucerys was quite cheerful, perhaps that someone bested Jacaerys at something, and was disappointed when they couldn’t play another round.
“Just think of how embarrassed they may feel if others found out a girl had beat them at something. And not just any girl, a serving girl!”
Surely not. The boys had neither looked or acted embarrassed…Or perhaps they were hiding their shame? Trying to pretend the loss had not affected them so? What if they told their mother? What would the most powerful woman in The Seven Kingdoms do if she felt her sons had been slighted?
“Oh no…” You bury your head in your hands when the shame rushes up to greet you.
“Shh shh,” Helyn tries to soothe. “I’m sure it is not that bad. Perhaps they forgot it by now. And seeing how you’re still here, the insult was not taken to heart!”
Everything in that moment is so suddenly overwhelming; you begin to cry. You had only been trying to make friends! You had never meant to offend or embarrass anyone! You were lonely, and thought it had all been fun. Oh how wrong and foolish you were!
For a while you do nothing but sob there in Helyns lap, as she tries pitifully to reassure you.
Your head shoots up at the unfamiliar voice. Before you is a gentleman usher whom you have never seen before. Judging from his fine fitted uniform, he must be of the higher ranking household.
“Their Royal Highnesses Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys, have requested your presence in The Eastern Courtyard.”
“Swordplay it appears,” He says smiling gently, “They have an assortment of wooden swords and shields with them.”
You look to Helyn, who appears just as surprised and dazed as you do.
“Perhaps… They were not offended after all?” You venture.
You end up dragging Helyn with you, against all her protests:
“They asked for you, not me! You will offend them!”
But you do not mind them; “That is what you said earlier! Besides, I can’t leave you out this time. It will be fun!”
You get many queer looks from the passing maids and gentlemen, but you don’t care enough to look. Too excited with the promise of what may come. Far from humiliated, the princes had invited you to swordplay with them! Was this the beginning of a new tradition?
The Eastern Courtyard was quite bare, save for the two young boys trying on their padded doublets. So there would be swordplay! Or some form of hand to hand combat!
You thought of Visenya in her armor, with her Valyrian Steel sword. Once, she too had trained in swordplay on these very grounds! You may never be a Queen like she was, but you had this in common at least. Did she look on with pride or shame at that fact, you wondered.
“Y/N!” Prince Lucerys shouts at your approach.
“Did you hear? Mother has sent for a new Master At Arms for us! He's coming all the way from Pentos!”
Pentos? You couldn’t point to where Pentos specifically was on a map, but you did know it was across The Narrow Sea.
“Why Pentos?” You ask, “Forgive me, but The Princess could pick anyone from anywhere across The Seven Kingdoms.”
“Six Kingdoms actually,” Prince Jacaerys corrects. “We have yet to conquer Dorne. But Mother says The Pentoshi warriors are not just descendants from The Andals, but The Valyrians as well. Some have also been trained in Braavosi water dancing. So instead of just learning regular fighting techniques we’ll have ‘variety’, whatever that means.”
You bob your head obediently.
“Then I am very glad, My Prince.”
“You can call us by our nicknames, they are a lot easier to remember!” Prince Lucerys says, making Helyn huff and shake her head.
“Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys, this is my friend; Helyn.”
“I’m Luke!” Lucerys bounds over excitedly. “And that’s Jace!”
Stunned, Helyn looks to you, before making a slight curtsy.
“It is an honor to be presented to you… Luke?”
The young Prince nods enthusiastically, before kissing the back of Helyn's hand like how a proper lord would greet a noble lady. She looked discomfited, as well as she might.
This is all still new to her, like it was to me, you remind yourself.
“Well I am glad you brought a friend. Things are better in equal numbers.” Prince Jacaerys, nay, Jace said. “Today we had hoped to test out our new equipment.”
Helyn gasps at that, horrified.
“You mean to try your swords on us?”
“No, for you to try our swords on us!” Luke explains. “Our shields and armor are new designs- supposed to protect from even the strongest blows! Maester Raff said so!”
The princes dawn their helms and breastplates, before giving you their blunted swords.
It's so big, you marvel. Thicker and heavier than the twigs you used to fling around carelessly. In fact, holding it for too long makes your arm tire and shake.
“Criston Cole used to say the sword needs to be your arm.” Luke instructed you, “You never drop or tire from swinging your arm!”
“Alright. Hit me!” Jace commands.
You and Helyn share a look, before you swing the sword down hesitantly. When it connects, it practically bounces off of Jace’s chest making a loud hollow sound.
“You call that a blow? Try again!” He booms.
So you swing, hurl, stab and poke at him until your arm gives out from exhaustion. Helyn does the same with Luke, in a nervous, subdued way. Regardless, neither of you succeed in knocking the boys down.
This quickly turns into the princes facing each other, attempting to accomplish the same feat. You cheer Luke on, telling him to aim low- use his height to his advantage! Helyn, more at ease, cheers for Jace. Encouraging him to use his strength and endurance.
This goes on for quite some time, until Luke finally falls, Jace's sword at his throat.
“I yield!” Luke calls, breathless.
“Let’s do something fun now!” You suggest, picking up Lukes discarded sword from the ground. The weight is not so bad now, that you’ve let your arm rest a while.
“Such as?” Helyn asks, warily.
“Aegon and his Queens!” You say, “Queen Visenya rode a dragon, and wielded a sword!” You brandish the blade as opulently as you can.
“Yes!” Luke roars, practically jumping up from the dirt.
“But there are four of us!” Jace protests, “Who is Lucerys supposed to be?”
“I want to be Aegon!” The younger boy whines.
The two boys argue back and forth, while you move closer to converse with Helyn.
“You don’t have to play if you don’t want to. You can always watch or-”
“And forfeit playing Queen Rhaenys? Fat chance! She was no warrior like Visenya, but she was still a Queen in her own right, and rode a dragon! Besides, I have no interest in combat.”
You reach forward to squeeze her hand. I’m glad you’re included, you want to say.
“But you are always Aegon, or Prince Aemon, or Durran Godsgrief!” Luke protests, “I want to be the hero for once!”
“And you can!” Helyn announces, “Lucerys will be Aegon The Conqueror. Y/N will be Queen Visenya. I will be Queen Rhaenys. And Jacaerys can be Orys Baratheon!”
Orys Baratheon? Of course you knew the name Baratheon, they were the Lords of Storms End just West of here. You knew they had Targaryen roots… Perhaps Orys was that very Targaryen ancestor? When you recalled those bedtime stories about the conquerors, your mother made no mention of him… Or perhaps she had, and you just blocked it out. Too hyper focused on your role model Queen Visenya.
“He was a fine, distinguished warrior.” Helyn supplied, “Who defeated The Storm King Argilac! Without him The Targaryens would have never taken The Stormlands!”
For a moment, Jace ponders this. Before sighing and nodding reluctantly.
And thus the game begins, you and Helyn kneeling at Lukes feet;
“My dearest brother and King,” Helyn starts. “The Seven Kingdoms are ours and ripe for the taking. Where shall we begin?”
Luke gapes at you two briefly, before gaining his composure and squaring his shoulders.
“Sweet sisters, I am deeply moved that you grant me this great honor of being your King. And I swear to you, The Gods as my witnesses, that I will honor your trust, loyalty and devotion. You shall look back on this moment with great pride!”
You stand and turn to face him.
“Baratheon, you should kneel before your king!” It is like you can feel the long dead Queen within you, filling you up with courage. “Unless, you would call yourself a turncloak?” You reach for the hilt of your sword, remembering all of Jace's previous movements. He was bigger and stronger than you, but you were faster than him. If he made to hit you, you could easily dodge and aim low-
Grudgingly, Jace lowers himself to his knees.
“You may rise my dearest family!” Luke directed.
“For I will need you on your feet when we attack! We shall all land at the mouth of the Blackwater River, and conquer all the lands there! The highlords will fight us, but they stand no chance against our might! Visenya shall ride Vhagar, Rhaenys shall mount Meraxes, and Orys will command our troops!”
The three of you then run about roaring, growling and shrieking- imagining waves and waves of armored soldiers burning below you. Jacaerys swings his sword back and forth against one of the practice dummies found in the yard, before knocking it down onto its side.
“Victory!” He cries. “The land is yours My King!”
Luke immediately comes to a halt, dropping his arms back to his sides.
“Y-yes. It would appear so.”
When it is clear he is at a loss for what to do next, Helyn takes the lead yet again.
“Well, a proper King should have a proper coronation! Visenya, if you please.”
Your mothers voice came to you again, an echo from the past; “And there In the Aegonfort, in front of their new subjects, Visenya placed a crown on Aegon's head and Rhaenys proclaimed him King of all of Westeros.”
Of course you did not have a crown on you, nor the resources to get one yourself… So yet again you use your leather belt; fastening it tight around Luke's head.
“All hail Aegon, First of His Name, King of All Westeros and The Shield of His People!” Helyn cried out, before kneeling once again. You and Jace kneel as well chanting; “All hail King Aegon!”
Night was falling already. A number of servants had just come to light the torches. Soon this must end, you realized, and the princes would retire to their royal apartments. While Helyn and you would return to the Maiden's chamber to begin the day all over again.
But we still have a little time…
You jump to your feet, waving the practice sword above your head.
“You may call yourself King brother, but we still have Six Kingdoms to claim! Where to next?”
