“I swear, Jacaerys Velaryon, if you die, I’ll never forgive you.”
The words came out broken, sharper than the trembling in her voice would have liked, but she did not care. She stood in the threshold of the chambers, one hand pressed to the frame as if it were the only thing keeping her upright, the other curled protectively over the small bundle in her arms.
Lucerys Velaryon II slept against her chest, his tiny face soft and innocent and untouched by the war that threatened to swallow them whole. His fingers twitched in his blanket as if even in sleep he knew something was wrong.
Jacaerys had one arm wrapped around their son, cradling him carefully, reverently, like he was holding the most fragile thing in the world. His jaw was tight.
His eyes, usually so full of light when they looked at her, were clouded now with the heaviness of duty. He looked at the child, then at her, and something in his face almost cracked.
“Do not speak like that,” he said quietly.
Her laugh was bitter and wet. “Then do not leave me.”The silence that followed was cruel.
He lowered his gaze to Lucerys, brushing the back of one knuckle over the baby’s cheek. The child made the smallest sound, a sleepy sigh, and Jacaerys shut his eyes for a moment as though he had to gather every last piece of himself before he could speak again.
“I have to go.”
“No,” she whispered, stepping toward him. “No, you do not. You can stay. You can send another. Let someone else ride to the Gullet. Let someone else bleed for this war.”
His mouth tightened, but he did not answer at once. He only looked at her, and in that look was all the sorrow in the world.
“If I do not go,” he said, voice rough, “many more will die.”
“And if you do go?” she snapped, tears burning hot in her eyes. “What then? What am I supposed to do if you do not come back?”
For the first time, he faltered. The room seemed to still around them, the air thick with unspoken fear. Outside, the castle rumbled faintly with distant footsteps and hurried voices, the life of Dragonstone carrying on as if the world had not already begun to break.
Jacaerys looked down at their son again, and when he spoke, his voice had gone softer than before. “You are not alone.”
“That is not the same as having you here.”
His throat worked. He shifted Lucerys carefully in his arms, as if memorizing the weight of him. Then he lifted his eyes to hers.
“Look at me.”
She did not want to. She wanted to turn away, to harden herself before the hurt came, but she looked. Jacaerys stepped closer until he stood just before her, the baby still nestled between them like a fragile promise. With the hand not holding their son, he touched her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear she had not realized had fallen.
“If I could stay,” he said, each word measured, “I would.” Her lips parted, but no sound came.
He leaned forward then, resting his forehead briefly against hers. It was a gesture so small it nearly destroyed her. So intimate. So full of love and grief that it hurt to breathe.
“Take care of him,” he murmured. “Tell him of me. Tell him I loved him before I ever saw his face.”
She gave a broken nod, though it felt like the most impossible thing in the world to promise.
Then Jacaerys kissed Lucerys’ brow and handed him back into her arms. The moment the child was in her grasp, she held him tighter than before, as if she could shield him from every monster in the realm by sheer force of love alone.
She looked up just in time to see Jacaerys step backward, already reaching for the weight of his cloak, already preparing to become the prince the realm demanded.
Her voice shattered as she called after him.
“Jacaerys.”
He turned.
For one terrible moment, neither of them moved. The son in her arms, the war beyond the walls, the future they had been trying so desperately to hold together it all hung there between them, trembling.
And then she said it again, quieter this time, like a prayer and a threat both.
“Come back to me.” Something raw passed over his face. He nodded once.
“I will try.”
It was not enough. It would never be enough. But she clung to those two words anyway, because love in wartime was always made of scraps of promises that could not be trusted, of kisses stolen before dawn, of fingers laced together as if that alone could stop the world from taking what it wanted.
Jacaerys gave her one last look, one last aching, helpless look, before he turned and walked toward the door. And she stood there with their son in her arms, watching the love of her life disappear into the storm, while the words still rang in her ears like a curse.
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x stark!reader, stark!reader x guard oc, daniel
summary: you’re the only daughter of rickon stark, the warden of the north. when he bends the knee to queen rhaenyra, he plans on keeping that vow… but then, aegon ii usurps the throne and the crown prince, jacaerys velaryon, comes to winterfell to secure the north’s allegiance to the queen. your father intends to offer your hand in marriage to prince jace, as he is unaware that you are in love with daniel, your childhood friend and guard… until you meet jacaerys in person, and everything turns on its head.
word count: 3.2k.
you can find the masterlist here!
note: reader, daniel and jace are all 18+! in this fic aegon has usurped the throne, but i’m changing canon a bit to keep rickon stark alive, making him warden of the north when jace flies to winterfell to create the pact of ice and fire. i am keeping that the pact included jace wedding rickon’s daughter, only in this fic it isn’t bastard sara snow, but a legitimate daughter of rickon and gilliane. oc!daniel’s face claim is daniel wagner from greta van fleet, and the fanfic title is the name of one of their songs <33 collage made by me, pics are from pinterest, if they’re yours then fullll creds to you!! pacing in this fic is incredibly fast and you may get whiplash from the readers erratic behavior. stick with it — i promise it all pays off in the end. there is a lot more to come with this work.
warnings: none really for this part, maybe a bit of emotional infidelity if you squint, but this fic is still 18+. smut in future parts.
the heavy ironwood doors of the great hall did little to keep out the biting chill, but today the cold felt as though it were seeping directly into your bones. high above you, the pale winter sun peered through the narrow frost rimmed windows, casting long dark shadows across the stone floor of winterfell.
at the end of the hall sat your father, the warden of the north. rickon stark. your relationship with him had always been unyielding, built on duty rather than affection. he viewed his children more as pieces to secure the north’s survival rather than his own flesh and blood.
“the realm is fracturing,” your father’s voice echoed off the ancient stone walls. he didn’t even look up as he spoke to you, his eyes were fixed on the map of westeros spread across the heavy oak table that was weighted down by stone direwolves. “the targaryen’s are on the brink of war. aegon has taken the iron throne, but queen rhaenyra summons her banners from dragonstone. we must again choose a side.”
he tapped a blunt finger against the map, right at the neck of the continent. “you are to travel south.”
“wha- travel?” you breathed, the word catching in your throat as a wave of panic struck you. “the realm is coming apart at the seams and you wish to send me into the mouth of it?”
“yes,” he grunted, finally tilting his stern gaze up to meet yours.
“i refuse,” you said, crossing your arms over the thick velvet of your gown, wishing you could anchor your boots to the stone.
“refuse all you’d like, you will ride at dawn,” he countered, his voice leveling you. “queen rhaenyra is sending her eldest son, prince jacaerys, north to winterfell to secure our allegiance. i will not have you here when he arrives, not until the terms are set. you are to travel to white harbor and from there a ship will take you to dragonstone. it is my intention to offer your hand to the prince to seal the pact of ice and fire.”
“you mean to use me as a bargaining chip?” you asked, your eyes welling up with hot tears.
“i intend to secure the north’s future,” your father replied. his expression softened just a fraction, though his voice remained iron. “it does not mean i do not love you. you know that i do. but, winter is coming, and i must protect this kingdom. you leave at dawn, daniel will command your guard.”
you turned your head, looking toward the guard stationed by the pillar. daniel straightened, his expression unreadable, though you could see the slight tension in his jaw.
“yes, my lord,” daniel bowed his head, his deep voice filling the space between you. “i will deliver her safely.”
he played his part perfectly but the betrayal still stung, even if you knew he had no choice. you were unable to bear it for another second. you turned on your heel, lifting the heavy skirts of your gown, and fled the great hall. the sound of your frantic footsteps and the swish of your dress echoed behind you.
when you reached your chambers you pressed your back against the cool stone wall, slowly sliding down until you were a heap of velvet on the floor. the tears finally spilled over. moments later, the heavy thud of armored boots sounded in the corridor. you didn’t need to look up to know it was him.
daniel slipped into the room, closing the heavy oak door behind him. he sank to the floor, his leather and iron armor clanking loudly in the quiet room. he removed his heavy gauntlet, tossed it aside and reached up. his rough, familiar hand cradled your face. despite your frustration, you leaned into his touch. he had been your companion, your confidant, and the secret holder of your heart for as long as you could remember.
“how could you agree to it?” you whispered harshly, your voice thick with tears. “to hand me over to a dragon prince?”
“and have your father take my head before the hearth?” daniel’s voice was low, laced with a quiet desperation. “if he saw even a flicker of what is between us, i would be fed to the crows by nightfall.”
he was right. your father was a just man, but a stark’s duty was absolute, and a guard loving a highborn daughter of winterfell might as well have been a death sentence.
daniel wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb, his gaze locking onto yours. “listen to me. we are not going to white harbor. i will play the loyal hound until we cross the white knife at dawn… but once we hit the dense tree line of the wolfswood…”
a spark of dangerous, terrifying hope flared in your chest. escaping into the vast wild north with him meant leaving behind the safety of winterfell and the comfort of your status. it meant leaving behind the family you knew. it meant freedom. it meant him.
you swallowed hard and wiped your face, then nodded. “we should pack only what we can carry on horseback,” you agreed, a small smile breaking through your grief.
daniel stood, pulling his gauntlet back on, becoming the heavy soldier once more. “i must return to the barracks. when you see me at the gates tonight, play your part. let your father believe he has broken your spirit, that is the only way we get out.”
the plan was perfect, forged in the dark of your chambers and fueled by a lifetime of shared affection… but the gods of the north are old and are rarely kind to the plans of lovers.
—
the betrayal didn't come from a guard, or a slipped word. it came in the form of a shadow over the sun.
the morning of your scheduled departure, the sky above winterfell did not fill with the gray clouds of an oncoming blizzard, but with the deafening and earth shaking roar of a beast from the south. the courtyard erupted into chaos as vermax, a massive dragon of olive green and bronze, cut through the clouds and landed upon the ancient walls of the keep. snow melted in waves against the stones as the dragon exhaled a plume of hot smoke.
prince jacaerys velaryon had arrived early.
you stood on the covered walkway, your traveling cloak wrapped tightly around you, and stared down into the courtyard. daniel was already there, holding the reins of your horse. his knuckles were white against the leather.
from the dragon’s back dismounted the young prince. he bore the dark hair of the strong’s but carried himself with the unmistakable, striking grace of a prince of the realm. as jacaerys removed his riding gloves and stepped into the snow, his eyes swept over the grim northern faces until they landed directly on you where you were standing high above.
there was no arrogance in his gaze. there was only a fierce, curious intensity. for a moment, the biting northern air felt strangely warm. you’d never been looked at like that by anyone other than daniel… or, you’d never noticed anyone else looking at you that way.
your father stepped forward to greet him, but jace’s eyes lingered on you for a beat too long, and a subtle intriguing shift passed over his features. down in the courtyard, daniel’s gaze darted between you and the targaryen prince, his hand instinctively dropping toward the pommel of his sword.
the escape into the wolfswood was no longer just a flight from duty, it was a race against a fire that had just arrived in the north, and for the first time in your life you felt the terrifying sensation of your footing beginning to slip.
—
the sudden arrival of prince jacaerys changed everything. since the dragon prince was already inside the walls of winterfell, your father saw no purpose in sending you away to dragonstone. the terms of the pact of ice and fire would be negotiated right here with you present.
your escape with daniel was now frozen in its tracks.
the evening jace arrived, the great hall was filled with the roaring heat of massive hearths, the scent of roasted meat, and a heavy tension. you sat at the high table beside your older brother, cregan, dressed in your usual dark northern velvet. your eyes kept darting toward the lower tables where the guards dined. daniel was sat there, his eyes fixed firmly on his plate, his jaw set so tightly you could see the muscle twitching from across the room. he wouldn't look at you. he couldn't.
“my lord,” jacaerys’s voice cut through your thoughts. he stood before the high table, having risen to properly greet the family. now stripped of his riding leathers, he wore a doublet of dark targaryen red and black, a striking contrast to the muted grays and browns of winterfell.
your father looked up, and then gestured toward you. “prince jacaerys, allow me to introduce my daughter.”
jace turned his gaze to you. up close, he didn’t look like the tyrannical dragon lords of the stories. his dark curly hair was slightly untamed, and there was a heavy weight of responsibility in his eyes. it was a look you recognized all too well from your own family. he stepped forward and bowed, an elegant courtly gesture that felt entirely foreign to the great hall.
“it is an honor, my lady,” jace said, his voice smooth but grounded. when he rose, his eyes locked onto yours, and a small, genuine smile curved his lips. “your father speaks highly of your devotion to the north.”
“you are welcome to winterfell, prince jacaerys,” you replied, your voice steady despite the flutter of panic in your chest. you bowed your head politely before speaking again. “my apologies, i fear our cold winds are a poor substitute for the warmth of dragonstone.”
“the warmth of a castle is found in its people, not its climate,” jace answered smoothly, his gaze lingering just a second too long. he was diplomatic. there was an undeniable intensity to him, something that felt entirely detached from the safe, predictable life you had known with daniel. it wasn’t a threat. it was an invitation to a world you hadn’t even dared to imagine.
you caught cregan watching the interaction with a quirked brow, while down below the clatter of a cup against the table told you daniel had seen it too.
—
hours later, the feast became suffocating. the laughter, the heavy ale, and the weight of jace’s gaze, which you had felt on you throughout the night, pushed you out of the hall. you needed air and you needed to think.
you sought refuge in the only place in winterfell that ever offered true quiet, the godswood.
the ancient wood was silent, the deep snow muffling any sound from the keep. you walked until you reached the heart tree, its bone white bark and red leaves standing out starkly against the dark. you leaned against a frost covered stone, letting out a breath that puffed into a white cloud in the freezing air. your mind was a chaotic storm.
you loved daniel. you had promised him a life in the wild, that you’d escape with him and be solely his… but the look in jacaerys’s eyes tonight had sparked something dangerous inside you. you now had a sudden curiosity about a different destiny. it was terrifying.
the crunch of snow behind you broke the silence.
“i’ve been told the northmen find peace beneath these trees,” a voice spoke softly.
you turned sharply to see jacaerys stepping into the clearing. he had thrown a heavy fur cloak over his doublet, looking less like a southern prince and more like a man trying to understand the world he had just flown into.
“prince jacaerys,” you said, adjusting your cloak. “you should not be out here alone. the godswood can be treacherous for those who do not know the paths.”
“please, call me jace. at least when we are not under your father’s watchful eye,” he said with a small smile, stepping closer. he kept a respectful distance and looked up at the carving on the weirwood tree, his expression contemplative. “my mother always told me the old gods see everything. i wanted to see them for myself.”
he turned his gaze back to yours, the pale moonlight catching the sharp lines of his face. “i also wanted to apologize. i know my arrival has thrown your home and your life into disarray. i am not blind, my lady. i know what this pact asks of you. i also know that your guard seems very unhappy about it.”
his directness caught you off guard. there was no political maneuvering in his tone, just a raw sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.
“you speak as though you have a choice in the matter, too,” you murmured, stepping out from the shadow of the stone.
“we all have choices,” jace said softly, his eyes searching yours with that same fierce intensity from the courtyard. “even if we must find them in the dark.”
for a long moment, the only sound was the wind rustling the red leaves above. but standing there with him, the ancient cold of the north felt entirely distant, replaced by a sudden terrifying warmth.
“we choose the chains we wear,” you said softly, your voice barely louder than the wind. you looked down at your hands, hidden within the folds of your heavy sleeves. “that is what my father taught us. a stark lives for the north, not for themselves.”
jace stepped a fraction closer, the snow crunching softly beneath his boots. “and what does the sister of cregan stark want, when she is not living for the north?”
the question struck you like a physical blow. no one had ever asked you what you wanted, not your father, not cregan, not even daniel, who had simply assumed you wanted freedom by his side. he wasn’t entirely wrong, but you never really had the chance to voice your wants like this before.
jace was looking at you as if your answer actually mattered to the fate of the seven kingdoms.
“i used to think i wanted peace,” you admitted, looking up to meet his eyes. “a quiet life. one where the walls of winterfell didn’t feel quite so high.”
“and now?” jace prompted.
“and now the world is changing,” you whispered, gesturing vaguely to the sky where vermax had flown hours earlier. “fire has come to the north. it makes the quiet life feel… smaller, if that’s possible.”
jace’s expression softened, a look of understanding washing over his features. “i know that feeling. until recently, i was just a boy living on dragonstone, learning to ride and wield a sword. now my mother’s crown rests on how well i can negotiate, how high i can fly, and how many men i can convince to die for us.”
he looked toward the weirwood tree, a bitter smile touching his lips. “sometimes, the duty is a cage. but standing here with you, it feels less like a prison sentence and more like a beginning.”
the honesty in his words was intoxicating. you felt a magnetic pull to him, a sense of shared burden that you had never experienced before. daniel loved you, but he was a guard. his duty was to protect you, to serve your family. he could never understand the crushing weight of a highborn name. jace did. he carried the weight of the entire realm on his shoulders, yet he was looking at you as if you were an anchor he’d been searching ages for.
“you shouldn’t say such things, my prince,” you breathed, though you didn’t pull away as he stepped into your personal space.
“jace,” he corrected softly. he reached out, his hand hesitating in the cold air between you before his fingers gently brushed against the fur collar of your cloak. his touch was unbelievably warm, as if the dragon blood in his veins could defy the northern winter. “if i am to bind my house to yours, i want it to be because you chose me, not because a lord and a queen drew a line on a map.”
your breath hitched. for a second, you wanted to lean into that warmth. you wanted to let the fire consume the safe predictable life you had planned.
“i must go,” you whispered suddenly, panicked by the sheer force of your own emotions. “the night grows late, and my father will notice my absence.”
jace dipped his head, stepping back with a respectful smile. “goodnight, my lady. i look forward to our next conversation.”
you fled the godswood, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. the warmth of jace’s touch seemed to linger on your skin, making the cold air of the castle feel sharper than before.
when you reached your chambers, you slipped inside and pushed the heavy door shut, leaning your head against the wood to catch your breath.
“you were gone a long time.”
you gasped, your eyes snapping open. daniel was standing in the shadows near the hearth, the fire casting long, dancing shadows across his face. he had stripped off his armor, wearing only his dark leather tunic, but his posture was rigid. his eyes, usually so full of warmth and affection, were dark and swimming with a mixture of fear and hurt.
“daniel,” you breathed, stepping toward him. “you shouldn't be here, if the other guards see you—“
“i don’t care about the guards right now,” he interrupted, his voice a low whisper. he closed the distance between you, taking your hands in his. his palms were cold, the familiar, rough hands of a northern soldier, and for the first time, you found yourself noticing the chill. “i saw him looking at you at the feast… and i saw you leave, and i saw him follow you into the woods.”
he searched your face, desperation bleeding into his features. “what happened out there? tell me the plan hasn’t changed. tell me we are still leaving when the guard shifts at dawn.”
your heart hammered against your ribs, a suffocating mix of guilt and panic flooding your chest. looking into daniel’s familiar eyes, the truth felt far too heavy and far too dangerous to voice. if you told him that a single conversation with a dragon prince had shaken the foundation of everything you’d ever known, it would break him. it would ruin everything before you even understood your own heart.
you forced a soft breath past your lips and squeezed his rough hands, forcing a reassuring smile to your face.
“of course the plan hasn’t changed,” you lied, your voice steady despite the flutter in your throat. “he only followed me to play the part of the dutiful prince. he wanted to apologize for the political mess his arrival caused. that’s all, daniel. it was pure politics.”
daniel let out a long, ragged breath, the tension leaving his shoulders all at once. he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, completely unaware of the conflict tearing you apart inside. “good,” he whispered fiercely. “because i can’t lose you to a targaryen.”
“technically, he’s a velaryon,” you mumbled, and daniel pulled back to glare at you. you leaned back into his touch.
as you held him, your eyes drifted to the frosted window, staring out toward the courtyard where vermax slept. the lie you were spinning felt cold in your chest, a sharp contrast to the lingering warmth jace had left behind.
divider by enchanthings. original work by me, jaacaerysvelaryon. do not copy, translate or repost. message me or reply if you want to be tagged in part two.
🏳️⚧️Trans Pride: How is the idea of gender/queer identities treated in your world? What was your character's experience like?
It varies. The NLU is a very broad thing. In general, any and all sorts of transness are acknowledged, although some places and people are crueler than others. I also try to do what I can with what knowledge I have about intersexuality. Genderfludity is a very common topic, with a lot of my characters having 2+ sets of pronouns. I tend to treat transness in general just as something that is. It doesn't actually impact the story very much.
I wanted the question bc I wanted to ramble about Jace, tbh, as he was my first trans character. Overall, Jace is respected, and he's rather open about it, but he had to fly stealth for about 2-3 years because he was stuck in a rural close-minded town. That really sucked for him. He likes wearing skirts, damnit! Jace is also resistant to meeting his father (who sent him away as a baby) because he's scared his father won't want a son, and will have clung to the idea of his baby daughter for all these years. (Said father will simply be relieved that his child is alive, however.)
I can't discuss genderqueer identities in the NLU without discussing Isaiah. Isaiah is genderfluid, although they don't really know what that means, nor do they vibe with labels. Isaiah's life has kinda sucked. They're fine with being called masc/male titles, most commonly King, but sometimes they wish people would be creative with it. They're also immortal so they have first-hand experience of older forms of gender. Modern concepts make very little sense to them, and often reminds them of mistreatment they suffered at the hands of their black-and-white-minded sister. (Which adds another layer of complexity, because being abused by a woman makes them resistant/hesitant about anything that might make them feel like their sister. Lots of emotions and confliction going on, poor thing.)
Secret Admirer [Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader]
Other HOTD stories [requests open]
Summary: Being a sophomore at Westeros High is hard enough with certain cliques, however it is even harder when you have a crush on the smartest boy in your year. Jacaerys Velaryon is not only the smartest, he is also the grandson of the principal, Viserys Targaryen. Your best friend, Baela, tries to push you to ask Jace out although you become too scared and the nerves only grow when you begin to get secret notes in your locker….
Gif doesn’t belong to me 🖤
Dedicated to ✨ @clairacassidy ✨ who requested some Jace ☺️
You pushed back a strand of your hair as you walked through the crowded halls of Westeros High. You hugged your books to your chest, blowing a breath as you listened to some cheerleaders talking about the upcoming winter formal. They all seemed giddy, trying to one-up the other by talking about the dresses they would wear.
Your best friend Baela Targaryen had been trying to get you to go dress shopping with you and her twin sister Rhaena, but you had refused every time.
You let out a sigh, deep in your own thoughts as you arrived at your locker. You furrowed your brows a bit seeing a small torn up piece of paper neatly folded. You reached out to grab it but jumped when you felt hands come down on your shoulders.
“Morning!”
“Gods, Baela!” You sighed when she only laughed. “It’s too early in the morning to scare me like that.”
Baela only laughed more. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You know I just love messing with you.”
You rolled your eyes but the smile was on your lips. You turned back to your locker quickly grabbing the piece of paper before slamming your locker. “Come on, we’re going to be late for first period.”
Baela tilted her head with a small smirk as her eyes wandered over the piece of paper. “Ooh, what’s that?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. It was in my locker,” You replied and jerked your hand away when she reached for it.
“Why are you so scared to open it? It could be love letter!” Baela declared.
You rolled your eyes while stuffing the paper in your pocket. “Like any boy would be interested in me.”
Your friend hummed in response, linking her arm with yours. “I guess we’ll never know until you open it, will we?”
You shook your head while walking into your first period, Chemistry. You pushed back some of your hair as you headed to your seat which was beside a dark haired boy named Jacaerys Velaryon, or better known as Jace. He had been your childhood friend since before the two of you could even talk, although everything seemed to change when you hit puberty. You had pushed him away to the point where you rarely text him anymore, yet you could not avoid him as your lab partner.
“Good morning, Y/N,” Jace greeted giving you a small smile.
You gave him a nod in response while pulling out your notebook followed by your Chemistry textbook. A frown tugged at your when the piece of paper fluttered out of your pocket and you reached for it, but Jace grabbed it first. You looked down at the paper as he held it out for you, your eyes flickering up to his blue ones.
❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈
“Hey, Y/N!”
You hummed as you turned and giggled when Jace turned in front of you, a bit out of breath. “Are you okay?” You questioned with a raised brow.
Jace had one hand on his knee, holding up a finger which caused you to giggle. “I was actually hoping to catch you while you were still at the school.”
“Oh?”
He nodded while standing up straight, letting out a breath. “So, you know how Homecoming is next Friday?” He asked and continued when you nodded; “Well…I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
You bit your lip gently feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach, your heart skipping a beat. Your mind spoke before your heart could however; “I-I have a lot to study for…you know how ruthless Mr. Ormund’s tests can be.”
Jace’s smile fell from his lips before nodding with furrowed brows. “Yeah, he is pretty tough.” He looked down at the ground before back up at you. “Well…I’ll catch you around then.”
You looked at yourself in the mirror, the light pink dress just brushing at your knees. You had a light layer of makeup and your hair was done up, Rhaena having helped you get ready. You decided to surprise Jace at the Homecoming dance.
You felt the butterflies in your stomach as you neared the gym doors, everyone inside with their usual clusters of people. You furrowed your brows scanning the dance floor and your heart dropped to your stomach at the sight of Jace dancing with Baela. The way he looked at her with that boyish smile of his only caused your heart to shatter. The tears stung your eyes before you turned while wiping your eyes. You should have told him how you felt and now you blew it.
“Y/N? Y/N?”
You blinked a bit, snapping back into reality as you looked over at Baela. You looked back down at the tray of cafeteria food in front of you, furrowing your brows a bit. You never brought up the eighth grade Homecoming to Baela, not wanting her to feel bad that she was dancing with your crush- she couldn’t have known.
“Did you say something?” You asked looking back to your friend.
“I just wanted to see if you opened your letter yet.”
You shook your head a bit. “Why do you want to know so bad?”
“Because I think it’s so romantic that you have a secret admirer,” Baela squealed.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I don’t have a secret admirer,” You grumbled but pulled out the crumpled piece of paper.
You furrowed your brows as you opened it, Baela leaning over you to read it as well:
A Prince once swooped down to rescue a Princess
From certain death, sitting atop a mighty dragon called Vermax.
As the Green Knight was about to deliver the killing blow,
The Prince grabbed the Princess’ and rained
Dragon fire on the enemy knight, flying the Princess to safety.
Baela stared at it in confusion. “What’s it from?”
“A children’s book,” You replied with a sigh. “It used to be one of mine and Jace’s favorites.”
Baela made an O-shape with her mouth. “Do you think maybe-“
“Maybe Jace is my secret admirer?” You cut her off while laughing. “No, I don’t think so.”
Baela shrugged with a small smirk. “I don’t know…someone leaving excerpts from a children’s book that happens to be one of yours and Jace’s favorites.”
You rolled your eyes as you stood up with the cafeteria tray, dumping your food in the nearby trash by the exit and left without another word. You knew Baela was wrong- Jace was not your secret admirer.
You let out a sigh as you headed to your locker after the final bell went off. All you could think of was that note. It was the children’s tale of The Black Knight and Vermax. It was the only story you and Jace would ever read, his mother Rhaenyra even making you a Princess costume and Jacaerys black armor, similar to the one that the Prince wore in the book.
You shook your head a bit while opening your locker but frowned seeing another piece of paper. You glanced around before picking it up and opening it, leaning against the locker beside you to read it:
To show her gratitude, the Princess requested her father to
Throw a large feast in the Prince’s honor. The Prince, still
Donned in his black armor, lifted up his hand.
“No,” He began. “I do not want a feast.”
“What would you like?” The Princess asked. “I must repay you for saving my life.”
The Prince reached out and grabbed the Princess’ hand, his skin rough from his years of training with the sword. “It would be an honor to call you my wife, Princess.”
“You know, Y/N,” Baela began as she fluffed out your hair. “Red is really your color.” She looked over your dress with a small smile. It was a tight fitting sleeveless red dress that lightly fell at your feet with a sweetheart neckline. “Isn’t it Jace’s favorite color too?”
You felt your cheeks heat up. “Shut up,” You mumbled while looking down at your hands. “We should leave so we’re not too late.”
Baela giggled at your red cheeks before she hooked her arm with yours, the both of you walking out. “I really don’t think you need to impress him by wearing his favorite color.”
You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Baela.”
You held onto your friend’s arm as you walked into the gym decorated with the theme, Winter Wonderland. Some couples were on the floor dancing to a slow song that was playing over the speakers; others were sitting at tables with bored expressions while scrolling aimlessly on their phones. Your eyes flickered over to the drinks table, spotting the familiar dark haired boy.
You excused yourself before slowly walking over, clasping your hands behind your back. “Didn’t the story end with the Prince and Princess marrying?”
Jace turned to you, his lips parting as he looked over you. “U-um…what story?”
You smiled lightly. “The Black Knight and Vermax.”
He chuckled while rubbing the back of his neck. “So, you found my notes.”
You hummed, nodding a bit. “Would you like to dance, Jace?”
Jace grinned as he set his cup down before leading you to the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around your waist, your arms going around his neck. You looked into his blue eyes while the butterflies erupted in your stomach, leaning your head against his. You have imagined this ever since you were a little girl: the Princess to be with her Prince and now it was finally coming true.
