⸻ they muddy the water to make it seem deep.
SER JAEL VELARYON of DRIFTMARK attends the season within the capital! before the court, they are BOLD and SINCERE. but every man has his shadows, and when darkness descends, they are PROUD and TACTLESS. another face appears in duskendale, reminiscent of a muddy horse-trodden road after rain, muscle straining under a heavy weight, a crease in the fabric of a face, sun-dried tears, and shifting dust. but what can they possibly hope to achieve in the aftermath of the flames? to do his job, protect the remnants of house targaryen… and see to the recovery, prosperity and continuity of house velaryon at any cost. gods protect them from these dark winds. — SEBASTIAN STAN, 43, CIS MALE & HE/HIM
name jael velaryon age forty-three hometown driftmark gender cis male pronouns he/him sexuality pansexual traits bold, sincere, daring, proud, tactless, impulsive standing knight loyalty house targaryen, house velaryon role lord commander of the kingsguard, cousin to the lord of driftmark
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tldr. wayward in his youth and once unworthy of the white cloak, he grew older and grew around his oath, embracing it like a tree encasing a foreign body. in the aftermath, he concerns himself with securing the royal family, investigating the fire, and upholding his vow to protect the king. now that the very place he chooses to stand bears weight, he’s been forced into politics. (the truth is simple to him: the child of the last king is the new king. but the road to preserving the truth, he can see, will be thorny and lined with vipers. begrudingly, he plays the game.) he observes his family’s situation, watchful of vultures.
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family. his parents are unambitious and indulgent. the spare of the great house velaryon has nothing to gain but nothing to prove, so what she teaches her only son is this: do the bare minimum, but do not do less than that. out of sheer luck, because of where you were born, you won’t need to do much good to be great.
youth. he’s a strong, sharp kid, who could be great, but he doesn’t do much good. (just like his mother, they say, who could’ve been a great courtesan if not for her own youth’s troubled ways.) he spends his early years bent on vices, drinking and whoring, for no other reason than that he wants to and that he can. his parents lose control over a son who seems to refuse every effort to understand the politics of legacy and the intricacies of nobility. the threat of the wall looms large.
knighthood. he takes his name too far into troubled waters. he’s given a choice: fuck off to castle black or wear the white cloak. he gets his shit together long enough for everyone to figure out that he’s a strong fighter, with a sharp mind, and a better soldier on land than he could ever be a captain at sea. he’s gifted horses instead of ships, swords instead of tridents. though he starts late, still squiring in his early twenties, he’s knighted swiftly and shipped off to king’s landing for good.
the kingsguard. after a few years in the keep and some acts of bravery some call radical and others call typical for a son of the sea, he dons the white cloak. he doesn’t deserve it or he had everything to lose or he had nothing back home or he was some royal’s close friend or he was always a nobody. his character is forever in question. the one thing no one can doubt is his ability.
red, white, gold. his parents are long gone—terrible accident out at sea—but they might be pleased to know that king’s landing has forced their son to submit to the intricacies of titled life. he keeps to the night and the shadows now, watchful of the eyes about, careful of mouths. amid a sea of chased skirts, he falls in love. red on white. his parents might be pleased to know their son was forced to grow up.
green. on the day of the fire, the king extended his service to (tba). they saw the fire from beyond the gates of the city and raced off swiftly. the smell of smoke reached far past the crownlands. his quick thinking landed them at dragonstone before the others. there, he was given his title.
yellow. he hasn’t had a wink of sleep since the fire. plate full with recommending new members of the guard, training them, keeping them in line. securing the remnants of the royal family, attending meetings of the small council. watching where he stands. wading through ashes, investigating the fire. swatting at vultures. body pulled in ten different directions—is this how it feels to burn?
silver. his last name is the last thing he owns. though he made a vow not to covet, he does. he watches his family’s situation, determined to keep his blood on the wooden throne.
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connections.
royal or noble he was escorting when the fire blazed. the king extended his kingsguard’s service to this person that day for some reason—maybe a reason as simple as a stroll on the beach. they were far enough from the fire that they could outrun it. they immediately raced to dragonstone in the days that followed.
cousin. i haven’t decided what family his father comes from so this is open to anyone. his father and one of their parents are siblings.
if you want your character to have had improper relations with a kingsguard about a decade or so ago this is your guy.
mentor. i was thinking this could be the capt of the kingsguard who passed but i don’t mind opening it to someone still living. this person basically forced him to grow up. they’re skilled and he looks up to them. he responds to tough love so they have to have the capacity for that. personality will have to be something like not conniving at all, not into paltry gossip, not petty, not social climbing, very true to themself but a lot more disciplined than him, a lay it all out on the table leave it all out on the field kind of person who’s been through a lot. they’re his compass, so to speak.
kingsguard members come to papa
i’m open to anything and everything. let’s brainstorm!
