𑣲⋆ summary: there are 5 levels to drunk jim, and the fifth is him babbling nonsense that you weren’t sure was truth or straight bullshit.
𑣲⋆ disclaimers: she/her, fluff, small angst, alcohol consumption, chubby!reader in mind. pam as a teensy small crush on us 🤪, cliffhanger, s1-s3 jim pictured
𑣲⋆ a/n: only on s3 of the office and i cant get this man out of my head PLEASE SAVE ME (i dont wanna be saved)
masterlist | navi | buy me kofi <3
Jim is not much of a drinker.
But right now, everyone begs to differ.
He’s supposed to be cool, levelheaded, and calm. But now, he’s babbling, loud and swaying across the room.
Pam has tried her best for him to sit down quietly so he doesn’t stumble and end up breaking something, but nothing has worked. Up until, your name was brought up.
“You want me to call her?” Pam huff, already exhausted by how many times she had to push Jim out of the way before clashing on the wall.
Jim perks up, eyes wide and twinkling with excitement. It made Pam smile. He really really likes her.
“Can you? Miss her so much.” Jim’s lip wobbles, body limp on the ground.
Pam stares at the camera, rolling her eyes at his dramatics.
PAM: “Jim wont admit it, but he is definitely in love with his roommate.”
JIM: “Y/N? Yeah, she’s the best! She’s kind and caring and she smells nice. She likes chocolate, and she’s pretty.”
Your phone buzzes beside you, you pause the movie that was playing and answer, “Pam? You okay?”
She sighs in relief, “Hi Y/N, I’m fine. Jim on the other hand…” she looks to him, his eyes distracted by the flashing fairy lights, “… is drunk.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “What? Is he plastered?” you chuckle, already wearing your jacket and taking your keys, moving to the door.
“He’s getting loud and he can’t stand still so..”
Chuckling, you shut the front door of your shared home and move to your car, “Oh no, that’s already level 3 drunk Jim. Has he started snacking?”
Pam shook her head, “No not yet.” eyes straying to where Jim sat.
“Okay, that’s good. Send me the location and I’ll be there as fast as I can. Thanks babe.” you say, locking the car and putting on your seatbelt.
You can’t see it but Pam’s cheeks warms at the pet name. You’re just too sweet, “Oh— okay, see you.”
The camera caught Pam smiling like an idiot after hanging up.
PAM: What do I think about Y/N? She’s- she’s sweet. Very nice and she has good style. [pause] Okay, fine. I think she’s really pretty and out of Jim’s league.
You get to the party 20 minutes after, it was still in full blast, cups everywhere, lights blinking different colours that makes your head dizzy for a moment.
“Hello, Y/N.” Dwight pops up, you weren’t sure from where but he does that a lot.
You smile, “Hi Dwight. Have you seen Jim? Or Pam?”
Dwight pointed to the kitchen, “Over there. He has been very annoying tonight. More than usual.”
You laugh, “When hasn’t he?”
The odd man just stares at you, before bellowing out a laugh, “This is why I like you a little.”
“Just a little?”
He stares at you a bit more, then leaves.
You chuckle at his antics, before moving to the kitchen, only to be met with a snacking Jim sitting on the edge of the counter. A bowl full of assorted chips, candies and nuts on his lap.
Oh well, level 4 drunk Jim.
“Hey buddy.” you softly say, walking towards the hunched man.
He immediately straightens his back, eyes and mouth wide open as he stares at you before messily going down from the counter, and meeting you half way.
“Hi.” he say breathlessly.
You smile and Jim thinks he might pass out because of how nervous you make him feel.
“Wanna go home?”
He nods eagerly, already following behind you like a puppy.
Pam sees you from far away and make eye contact with the camera.
PAM: Do I think Jim is gonna say something stupid? Yes, definitely. Do I think she’s gonna hate him? Oh no, she’s in love with him as well. Everyone can tell.
✮⋆˙
The ride home wasn’t long but Jim’s constant head turns to look at you makes you sweat.
“I’m surprised you’re not on level 5 yet.” you mutter.
He furrows his eyebrows, “Level 5?”
You turn to look at him, “Yeah, when your lips became loose about anything and everything.”
He nods, as if trying to understand the information you’re giving him. He doesn’t.
“Do you think if we weren’t roommates we would be friends?” Jim asks suddenly.
“Uh—“ you thought about it, “I think so.”
The man drops his shoulders in relief, “That’s good. Cause I really like you.”
You hate the way your heart stops, “I like you too Jimmy.”
He snorts, “Jimmy. That’s cute.” he pauses, “You’re so cute.” he quietly exhales.
Welp, level 5 drunk Jim is here.
With stumbling feet and wobbling legs, you find yourself panting when you finally drop Jim on his bed. His eyes are already fighting himself to stay awake.
He’s like an octopus, hands latching to stay on you even when he’s already laying back. Butterflies in your stomach has been flying round and round, as he latch on your waist, the small of back and your hips.
He’s clingy when he’s drunk.
Not that you minded.
Now he’s mumbling something you can’t quite catch.
“What’s that Jim?”
“I think about marrying you sometimes.”
You freeze.
He mumbles drunkenly, glassy eyes turning doe as he stared up at you. You don’t think he even knows what he said.
Your hands stilled on the blanket that you drape over him. He is drunk out of his mind. “You’re so weird.” you chuckle nervously, tucking the fabric so that he’s comfortable.
Jim was quiet for a few moments, droopy eyes still stuck on you, taking in every small thing on your face, “You’re so pretty too. I feel like my heart is going to jump out every time I look at you.” he sleepily mumbles, eyes dropping more and more.
You shook your head, “You’re drunk, honey.”
He whines, “Ugh, and I love how you call me honey or sweetie. Makes my stomach all weird.” the man cuddles more into the blanket, sniffling your scent like a dog.
His face is flushed, nose all red, sweat beading along his hairline with teary eyes. He looks weirdly adorable.
“Okay, level 5.” you mumble quietly.
When you turn to look at him he’s already knocked out. His soft snores making you fondly smile at him.
He's gonna forget all about this in the morning.
The thought makes your stomach twist. You know he doesn't mean what he said but a part of you want him to, so bad.
If only.
✮⋆˙
Jim wakes up with a killer headache, body ache and stomach ache. He's sure he's gonna feel like this for weeks.
Grumbling, he sits up on his bed, noticing the aspirin and water on the side with a small note.
Take these. There's half a sandwich on the table, hope you feel better <3
He bites the inside of his cheek, tyring to keep himself from grinning so big.
One insistent thought rattling in his head: She’s so cute. I might just marry her.
I know I've literally got another au in the works already but i don't care man I love mythology and now they're gods >:)))))
Some info!
Katara and Sokka's face markings are based on the Painted Lady and Warrior makeup (respectively)-- on top of giving Sokka some winged eyeliner to resemble a wolf's markings (as the master of wolves), and a semi-circle on Katara's forehead as a symbol of equality (as the goddess of justice).
Gods don't technically "die" in this AU-- it doesn't happen often, but when it does, they usually become one with their domain. When Gyatso died, as the god of the wind, he turned into the wind and could only communicate through wind chimes (small signs/yes/no-- he can't communicate complex thoughts).
When Kya died, she turned into the starry sky. Hakoda, grieving his wife, would often study her form in the sky and learned to use the patterns of her stars to navigate, which made him become god of navigators.
When Kya died, people started praying to Sokka and Katara for matters of family and home-- it's not actually their domain, but they gratefully accept the duties that come with taking over for their mother.
Katara's necklace has sharp points in this to relate to her mother's star domain.
Katara's cloak is a sealskin (as the matron of sealife)
Yes, Sokka's leg is still hurt in this (still trying to figure out the story behind that, but I love when characters get permanent injuries in media and I'm KEEPING IT) he has a cane-- doesn't always need to use it but he has it!
Sokka's cloak is a polar bear dog's hide (as the god of hunting)
Info!
Had a LOT of fun combining Air Nomad outfit elements with a more typical "travel" outfit. Super warm colour palettes of course!
Aang is the god of balance, travelers, and hospitality. He's a bit of a free spirit and a lot of the more serious gods find him a bit annoying (Sokka.)
People often pray to Aang when they have to go on long journeys, or invoke his name when they need to stop to rest.
It's a well-known fact that the god of travelers has a habit of wandering around incognito-- he just does it because he likes interacting with people without being recognized. In doing so, however, he accidentally started to enforce his hospitality domain, as mortals became terrified of accidentally offending him if he were to show up at their door.
He loves to follow Sokka around on hunts (he gets to explore dangerous areas)-- Sokka hates when Aang follows him because he almost always ends up losing his catch.
Katara and Aang's Justice and Balance domains mean that they often are called upon together by mortals. Katara, to enact a fitting punishment upon perpetrators. And Aang, to provide reparations to victims. It's found to be very fitting that they ended up becoming a couple.
and i burn for you (and you don’t even know my name) | j.v
summary:
“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.
“I should leave-”
“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf…. My prince.”
OR; Jacaerys is usually a lot more suave when it comes to ladies. That was before he met you.
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader
warnings: SMUT! 18+, MDNI, p in v, oral sex (fem receiving), doesn't follow canon, Jace has been aged up to 20!
word count: 7,5k words (oh)
author's note: this is very much is an indulgent story bc i miss Luke and Jace🥲 also inspired by close to you by gracie abrams ! pls let me know ALLL YOUR THOUGHTS!!! happy reading🫶🏼🫶🏼
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
“Do you think my hair will get just as luscious as yours did after you got back from Winterfell?”
Jacaerys’ rolled his eyes at his brother. They were on their second day of journey from King’s Landing to Winterfell. It was to be Cregan Stark’s name day and he had cordially invited Jacaerys and his family to the celebrations. His mother could not just leave her throne at King’s Landing, and Daemon wouldn’t go without her. Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon where still too young to go, so only Jacaerys and Luke rode to Winterfell on dragonback. They could’ve made it in one day if they had wanted to, but they were in no hurry. Well, Jacaerys wasn’t. He knew what temperatures were expecting him. Luke didn’t, which was why he was so antsy to get there and almost didn’t pack the fur lined gloves their mother had laid out for them. Jacaerys couldn’t wait until the biting, cold winds hit Luke’s face for the first time. He would treasure the memory forever.
“Har har, good one,” Jacaerys said dryly. “The court jester should watch out or you will be going for his position in no time.”
Luke grinned at his older brother wickedly, opening his mouth once more to say another jest, Jacaerys had no doubt about it, but the words died on Luke’s tongue when the winds suddenly turned cold, whipping his hair around like icicles.
“Seven hells!” he cursed and Arrax let out a soft whine, not used to the coldness, just like his rider.
“Nyke ivestretan zirȳla, paktot Vermax?” Jacaerys whispered to his dragon, stroking Vermax’ neck with his gloved hand and the creature let out a puff of smoke. I warned him, didn’t I Vermax?
It wasn’t much longer until the two brothers reached Winterfell, their dragons landing just in front of the gates of town. Jacaerys could already see Cregan’s imposing figure standing by the gate as he climbed off of Vermax, carefully patting his snout. He took the bags off his saddle, Lucerys doing the same before leaning his forehead against Vermax’.
“Sȳz valonqar. Umbagon va, ao rȳbagon issa? Se jurnegon hen syt Arrax” Good boy. Stay near, you hear me? And take care of Arrax.
Vermax let out a soft rumble, pressing his snout against Jacaerys’ hand, before he and Arrax leapt back in the air, disappearing across the woods with few wing flaps. Jacaerys wasn’t sure where exactly they went, but he assumed it was some warm cave. Winterfell didn’t exactly have a dragon pit.
“Woah,” Luke gasped, astounded by the amount of white surrounding them.
“I told you,” Jacaerys said, shouldering his bags as Cregan approached them, several pages in tow.
“Prince Jacaerys!” Cregan’s voice boomed across the snowy field, before he stopped in front of the two princes. “What an honor to have you.”
The two men sized each other up, before breaking out in laughter as Cregan pulled Jacaerys into a hug.
“It is good to see you, my friend.”
“And you, Cregan,” Jacaerys replied, patting Cregan’s back that was cloaked in a warm fur. He really ought to ask him what animal pelt it was, he never seemed to be cold. Luke was shifting on his feet next to him and Jacaerys took a step back to introduce his brother.
“Lord Cregan, this is my brother.”
“Ah, the infamous Prince Lucerys,” Cregan said with a smile, shaking Luke’s hand. Based on his face, Jacaerys could tell his brother was struggling to keep a straight face; Cregan’s handshakes were nothing but firm.
“Lord Cregan, it is an honor to finally make your acquaintance.”
“I have heard much about you.”
“Ah,” Luke sighed, hand still enclasped in Cregan’s. “I’m sure all lies.”
“Only good things, your brother has shared high praises of you.”
Luke glanced over to his brother in surprise and Jacaerys only raised his eyebrows at him. Cregan finally let go of Luke’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder, sending the younger man nearly flying.
“How old are you, Lucerys?”
“Ten and eight, my lord. And please, call me Luke.”
“Very well,” Cregan said with a grin. “You’re the prime age of a young prince, Luke. Are you courting anyone?”
“No,” Luke replied, his cheeks reddening. Jacaerys only snickered, ignoring the deathly glare his younger brother sent him.
“No worry. There are a few of very beautiful ladies that will be attending, maybe one or two will catch your royal eyes.”
Cregan gave Jacaerys a knowing look, but he only rolled his eyes, stretching his hands, the coldness starting to seep into his gloves.
“I am about to lose feeling in my limbs, can we continue this dreadful conversation inside?”
“Of course. I apologize, I forget that you are not accustomed to our weather,” Cregan said, motioning for the pages to help the them with their bags. “Let’s get you into the warm, shall we?”
Cregan lead the two brothers towards the Great Keeps, giving Luke a very brief rundown of the grounds as he did. Jacaerys could already feel his fingers warming up; he even dared to take off his gloves.
“We are currently having tea, I would love for you to join but if you wish to get some rest, we can meet again after,” Cregan said, stopping in front of the dining halls.
Jacaerys glanced over to Luke, who only gave him a shrug. “I could do with some food.”
“As do I.”
“Very well.”
Cregan pushed open the door to reveal a lively dining hall, one that Jacaerys was familiar with. He spotted faces he recognized, when his eyes stopped in the middle of the table, surprised to see Lady Alysanne Blackwood sitting next to you, someone he didn’t recognize. Immediately, you turned your head to look at him, as if you had felt his eyes on you. Jacaerys tried not to falter under your gaze.
“Who’s that?” Luke whispered and Jacaerys fought the urge to elbow him.
“The Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon!” Cregan announced, causing a ruckus as everyone pushed their chair back to stand. You only followed after Alysanne gently nudged you, folding your hands in front.
“Thank you for having us,” Jacaerys said, him and Lucerys both bowing. “Please, sit.”
As everyone took their seats again, Cregan led him and Luke to the middle of the table, where three seats were empty next to Alysanne and you.
“My princes, may I introduce Lady Alysanne of House Blackwood and Lady-”
Jacaerys almost tuned out Cregan’s voice as he introduced you, but it was like your name was ringing in his ears. He was sure he had never been quite taken with any lady as with you right from the first meeting. Jacaerys cleared his throat, hoping his voice would come out even.
“Lady Alysanne, it’s nice to see you again,” Jacaerys said, bowing to her as Luke followed suit.
“The pleasure is mine, your graces. I hope your journey was swift,” Alysanne replied. “I hear you travelled on dragonback.”
That seemed to pique your interest as you straightened your back, eying Jacaerys with a new found interest. Jacaerys tried to ignore the heat unfurling in his lower stomach. He had seemed to take beat too long to reply, because Luke cut in, throwing a look at his older brother.
“Yes, my lady. It only took us a day and half’s journey.”
“Ah, I envy you. To travel on dragonback and have a short journey. It took me a moon’s turn to get from Raventree Hall to Winterfell,” Alysanne said with a small sigh, turning to you. “Nearly took you two moon’s turns, didn’t it?”
Jacaerys had kept his eyes steadfastly on Alysanne as she spoke, but when she turned to you, he took the chance to do the same. You nodded, fingers between the stem of the chalice you had been drinking from. His eyes lingered on your slender fingers for longer than they should have.
“Two moon’s turns is quite a long journey,” Jacaerys finally pressed out, hoping his voice didn’t sound odd. “Where in the Seven Kingdoms does your house lay?”
Your eyes met his for the first time and Jacaerys felt like he was looking in the eyes of a predator, as if he hadn’t been riding a dragon for nearly all of his life.
“I am from a land beyond Essos,” you finally spoke, voice as smooth as honey. Before you could continue, Alysanne whispered something under her breath and you let out a small laugh, shaking your pretty head, speaking again. “I’m afraid we’re not part of the Seven Kingdoms, your grace.”
The way you accentuated the honorific had Jacaerys sweat, something he never thought he’d do in Winterfell. He managed to give you a wry smile; luckily, Cregan finally gestured towards the empty seats and as Jacaerys sat down - two seats away from you - he let out a breath of relief, desperate for a quick respite. His behavior was mortifying and unbefitting for a crown prince.
“Are you alright?” Luke whispered from his left as he reached for a particularly large meat pie. “It is unlike you to let me do the talking.”
Jacaerys waited as the butler poured him some mulled wine, only stopping him when it was nearly full to the brim. He lifted the chalice, taking a big drink from it, feeling Luke’s eyes on him the whole time.
“It appears the journey has tired me more than I had expected.”
Luke narrowed his eyes at him, but as soon as he bit into the meat pie, the suspicions slid of his face.
“Seven hells, what kind of meat do they put in these?” he almost moaned, already reaching for another. Slob, Jacaerys thought, reaching for some bread himself, leaving his brother to his own world as he discovered the cuisine of the North. Jacaerys glanced over to his friend, but Cregan was in the middle of a conversation with Alysanne; they were speaking in hushed tones, Jacaerys could barely make out a word even though he was sitting right next to them.
The way Cregan was whispering to Alysanne suggested a certain familiarity; a familiarity that Jacaerys was surprised by; he hadn’t known that Cregan had taken on a lover, and Alysanne no less, though he could see what had drawn his friend to her.
Jacaerys didn’t pay attention for half a second before his eyes impulsively laid on you. He didn’t want to be caught staring, but you seemed preoccupied listening to Alysanne as she talked, so he allowed himself a few moments to take you in. Your hair fell over your shoulder in soft waves, the bodice of your dress was snug around your chest. The more he looked, the dryer his throat became, suddenly the bread in his mouth tasted days old. Letting out a soft cough, Jacaerys reached for his wine, nearly finishing all of it in one to, desperate to quench his thirst.
He wondered if all women from your land looked like you or if it was just you that had him so enthralled. Jacaerys was lost in thoughts so deeply, he didn’t even realize that Cregan had turned his attention to him.
“Did someone catch your eye?”
“What?”
Jacaerys teared his eyes from you to look at his friend, who was sipping on his wine, eyebrows raised. Despite trying to seem nonchalant, the crown prince knew a pink flush creeped on his cheeks; he’d blame it on the wine if Cregan would ask.
“I was enjoying the festivities.”
“You’re surely enjoying something.”
“I’m positively not enjoying this conversation,” Jacaerys sniffed. Cregan laughed, placing his heavy hand on his shoulder. Jacaerys tried not to falter under it.
“I like her. She’s a good friend of Lady Alysanne’s. Though if her behavior grates you: her land does not have a king or queen, so she might not be familiar with our customs. She is also especially forward; I fear that was a given, considering the company she seeks.”
Jacaerys knew immediately what Cregan was alluding to. Alysanne had a reputation for not holding her tongue when something displeased her, there were a good handful of people who quite dislike her for it.
“I’m sure you will get along with her fine, my prince.”
Jacaerys hummed, glancing over to you for a split second before looking away for fear of being caught again, but in doing so, he missed you looking back at him with raised brows. After the table was cleared, you and Alysanne excused yourselves to your chambers. Jacaerys stared after you until you disappeared from sight, his hands clasped.
“Let me show you to your chambers for some rest,” Cregan offered. “Jacaerys, I had the same chambers prepared as last time.”
The three men walked through the hallways of Winterfell once more, stopping in front of Jacaerys’ chambers.
“Someone will fetch you for supper, please get some rest in the meantime,” Cregan said, clasping Jacaerys on the back. Jacaerys glanced over at Luke, who waved him off, so he entered his chambers as Cregan walked Luke to his, with the latter chattering excitedly.
As the door shut behind Jacaerys, the chambers were engulfed in silence and he was finally able to breathe. The room was comfortably decorated, of course in no way as lavish as his chambers in King’s Landing, but everything he would need was there. Taking off his cloak and his doublet, Jacaerys hung them over the small bench that sat near the fire, before he laid down on the bed, staring up the canopy with a sigh.
Gods, he really needed to get it together. He would not allow himself to act like such a fool in front of you again. He couldn’t even understand what it was about you that had him so shaken to the core. Jacaerys had never been the kind of man who stuttered around when it came to women. He knew what he had to offer, he knew a lot of women found his status appealing. But something about you was just…. Infuriating. It made him lose his footing.
Jacaerys was still questioning his life choices that led to this moment, when the door suddenly flung open, and he knew immediately who it was without having to move; there was only one person in whole Winterfell who would barge into his chambers like this.
“Your chambers are so much nicer than mine!” Luke crowed, throwing his hands up in the air before he dropped onto the bed next to Jacaerys. “I do have to say, even though it is freezing outside, the Northeners know how to keep it comfy in their chambers.”
Jacaerys let out a small sigh.
“What are you doing here, Luke?”
“Gods, why are you such in a sour mood?”
“Maybe because I am tired from the journey and you’re sitting here talking about meaningless things,” Jacaerys lamented with a pointed look in his younger brother’s direction, who only pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Let me move onto meaningful topics then,” he agreed. “You didn’t tell me Lord Cregan is betrothed to Lady Alysanne.”
“He’s not, as far as I know,” Jacaerys replied, resigning himself to the fact that Luke wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. “I was taken by surprise just as you were.”
Luke didn’t answer; for a brief second Jacaerys wondered if he had fallen asleep, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be happy about or not.
“What did you think of her friend?” Luke finally asked and Jacaerys rolled his eyes. There it was. “She’s pretty, right? I think she might be interested in me.”
“What makes you think she would be interested in you?” Jacaerys pressed out, annoyed. He knew Luke was baiting him, but what if he wasn’t? His younger brother turned over to look at him, the corners of his mouth tugging up.
“I knew it. You’re absolutely smitten with her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I barely exchanged two words with her,” Jacaerys said defensively.
“Exactly. She makes you shiver in your boots like a child and swallow your words like Vermax does goats.”
“Blasphemous,” Jacaerys snapped, his cheeks growing hot. “I’m the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms, I do not get flustered around a lady.”
“I cannot wait until you talk to her again,” Luke remarked gleefully.
Jacaerys reached over to grab one of the fluffy pillows that was resting against the headboard to whack Luke in the face with it.
The next day, Jacaerys found himself with some time by himself. Cregan was greeting some more of the guests that were arriving for his celebration that evening, and Luke had wanted to see the training grounds of Winterfell, so Jacaerys ventured out by himself, walking the walls. He passed a few guards, who bowed respectfully as they marched past him. They asked if he got lost, if they should walk him back inside where it was warm, but he declined.
Despite the cold snow that was falling from the sky, Jacaerys enjoyed leaving the castle for a few moments. Winterfell was peaceful, the white that covered the grounds allowed him to breathe, a stark contrast to the grounds of King’s Landing. As the cold winds started to pick up, Jacaerys turned to head back, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing by yourself at the wall, staring out at the distance. Jacaerys hesitated.
His interaction with you last night at supper was… Passable. He had managed to keep the conversation going, he still wasn't happy with himself. But this was unfamiliar territory, he hadn’t ever been alone with you. What if he made a fool of himself?
Before Jacaerys could decide what to do, his feet already carried him over to you. At the sounds of the snow crunching under his soled shoes, you turned around, your eyebrows risen in surprise. Your cheeks were red from the cold, despite the fur-lined cloak that engulfed your shoulders.
“Oh, it’s you,” you said, your breath visible in the cold air.
“Only me,” Jacaerys confirmed, bowing his head slightly in greeting. You did the same. “Come out here for some quiet?”
“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.
“I should leave-”
“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf…. My prince.”
You added the honorific after a brief pause, and Jacaerys stayed rooted in his spot. You seemed like you were in deep thought, and your voice was hesitant when you spoke again.
“I am unsure as to what the difference is, if I’m being quite honest. Do you want me to refer to you as my prince or as your Grace?”
“You can refer to me as anything you want,” Jacaerys said quickly. Too quickly.
The frown on your face smoothed, a grin growing in its stead. “Indeed?”
“I meant,” Jacaerys pressed, trying to sustain any sort of dignity. “You’re not from Westeros, you do not need to address me as your Grace or my prince.”
“I wouldn’t want to seem disrespectful,” you added. “Folks are already whispering about the “foreign lady”, I do not wish to give them more reason to be suspicious.”
Jacaerys felt a flash of hot anger coursing through him at the belief of anyone uttering a bad word about you.
“Are you being mistreated, my lady?”
A laugh escaped your lips. “I did not tell for you to fight in my honor, I have endured worse than some meaningless gossip.”
You tossed your hair back, and for a brief second, your scent carried over to Jacaerys’ nose. You smelled… Sweet. A scent that was unfamiliar to him, but not exactly unwelcome. With a small sigh, you turned your head to look at him. Damn it, did you say something?
“So... Your grace or my prince?”
For some reason, either address didn’t feel right. Well. They felt right, but not right. Never before had Jacaerys felt anything when being referred to with the correct title except for a sense of respect and pride that he was being recognized for his status. But for some reason, having you address him with either had Jacaerys feel things in regions where he shouldn’t. And both seem equally catastrophic.
“Either is fine,” he finally settled on. “But if no one is around… It is alright for you to call me by my given name.”
“Jacaerys?”
A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of his name rolling of your tongue so easily. He was done for. No matter what you referred to him as, it made him weak in the knees.
“Or Jace.”
“Is that not improper?” you asked. “I would hate for folks to think I’m getting too familiar with the crown prince.”
He definitely wouldn’t mind getting too familiar with you.
“My friends call me that… And people that I’m close with.”
A corner of your mouth tugged up in a grin. “You wish to be close with me?”
Jacaerys flushed, stuttering. “I-“
“I’m only jesting,” you said, your gloved hand reaching out to touch his arm and even though there were about five layers between, Jacaerys could *feel* your skin on his. He was in trouble. “I will address you properly in public but if no one is around, Jacaerys….”
Your voice trailed off and you took a step towards him, leaning in so you could speak to him in a small whisper.
“I hope we can become friends.”
With that, you bowed your head, stepping back and turned to depart, leaving Jacaerys standing by himself. He exhaled a breath - a breath he had not realized he had been holding this whole time.
Somewhere in the distance, Jacaerys could hear Vermax screech out, no doubtedly feeling exactly what his dragon rider was struggling with.
“Yes, Vermax, you and me both,” Jacaerys muttered with a small sigh, enduring the cold for a little while longer before he retired inside, knowing he had to start getting ready for Cregan’s celebrations soon.
“How much longer are you going to stare at your reflection?”
Jacaerys resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He was tense enough as it was, giving into Luke’s teasing was not going to help it.
“I’m representing mother at this celebration, a single hair out of place and rumors about my legitimacy as heir might start,” Jacaerys pointed out, wiping off the fleck of dusts that sat on the shoulder of his doublet.
“Of course, we would not want that,” Luke said, his voice taking that annoying tone which Jacaerys knew meant he wasn’t taking him serious. “You are most certainly not trying to look absolutely perfect for a certain lady.”
Jacaerys met Luke’s eyes through the mirror, his forehead creased. “I did not ask you to wait for me. No one is stopping you from going by yourself.”
Luke sighed, pushing himself off of the bench to approach him, hands reaching out to smooth out Jacaerys’ cloak.
“And who is going to tame that one wild curl that always does whatever it wants at the back of your head?”
Jacaerys winced when Luke gently tugged on said curl, setting it in its place, before the younger prince grinned at him through the reflection as the two of them stood in front of the mirror, Luke's shoulders slightly higher than Jacaerys'. He despised the fact that his younger brother was starting to overtake him in height. Jacaerys hoped that Joffrey would stay shorter than him.
“You look fine, Jace,” Luke assured him. “And even if a hair might be out of place, she will think it charming.”
Jacaerys decided against deeming that comment with an answer, instead straightening his shoulders.
“Let’s go then.”
The two brothers headed the the Great Hall and the closer they got, the louder the music became. Jacaerys tried not to pick on his clothes as they walked through the hallways, knowing he was just being antsy at this point. When they finally reached the threshold of the hall, the herald bowed to them both respectfully, waiting until the music quietened down, the guests looking at them.
“Presenting His Grace, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne, and his brother, Prince Lucerys Velaryon of House Targaryen!” the herald announced.
The guests all bowed, which Jacaerys and Lukereturned, before they were being led to their seats and Jacaerys tried not to stumble over his feet when he realized that Cregan had sat Luke to his right, whereas Jacaerys sat next to him.
Right next to you.
Jacaerys ignored Luke’s smirk as he sat down, and instead offered you a small smile.
“My lady.”
“Your grace.”
You sent him a conspiratorial smile, before your attention refocused to Cregan, who suddenly stood, lifting his chalice.
"Good evening, my dear guests. On this occasion, the celebration of my name day, I am deeply honored to be surrounded by such loyal friends, family, and allies. I thank everyone who made their long and burdensome journey to celebrate this day with me. Raise your cups, my friends, enjoy the festivities, the music and most importantly, the food. Now, let the feast begin!"
Everyone clapped as Cregan took his seat again, the lively music beginning to play. Immediately, people rose to occupy the dancefloor. You stayed seated, sipping on your wine and Jacaerys watched you out of the corner of his eye, reaching for his own wine, hoping it would ease his nerves. You looked pretty; wearing a dark red dress, the fabric seeming to melt against your skin like it was sown onto your body. Jacaerys tried to not let his gaze linger too much on your cleavage, which was tasteful, but still incredibly distracting. He couldn’t help but think how you and him seemed to be dressed to compliment each other.
“You look very beautiful,” Jacaerys blurted out. You turned to him, eyebrows risen in surprise and his cheeks reddened. “I apologize if it was too forward, I-”
“You look very handsome yourself,” you said, returning the favor with a grin. “At least I know what took you so long to get here.”
By now, Jacaerys was sure that the color of his face rivaled the color of your dress.
“Thank you,” he said, fingers tracing the stem of the chalice. “I try to look my best.”
“It is working in your favor, my prince,” you all but purred quietly, making Jacaerys grip his chalice so tightly, his knuckles turned white.
“Are you alright?”
“Fine,” Jacaerys pressed out, letting a small sigh pass his lips. “I apologize. I am usually more… Composed,” he admitted. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he couldn’t help but feel like you were biting back a smile.
“And you’re not composed right now?”
“No. You…” he paused, letting go of the chalice, stretching his hand out. “You make me nervous.”
He dared to look up to you, searching for any sign of distaste, only to see your gaze focused on his hands, before you lifted your eyes to meet his.
“How?”
“You vex me.”
“In a good way, I hope.”
Jacaerys let out a breathless laughter, shaking his head. “In a very much not good way. This is not behavior befit for a crown prince.”
“Well, it’s just your luck that I have not a single idea of what behavior is befit for a crown prince,” you assured him, placing your hand on his, presumably to console him. It had quite the opposite reaction. “It is just me, you may speak freely.”
“I-” Jacaerys paused, his eyes darting around the countless of guests mingling in the Great Hall, the threat of a listening ear everywhere. “I cannot.”
You nodded in understanding, but Jacaerys could tell that his answer had disappointed you by the way you turned your head away from him. Silently, he cursed himself, feeling the desire for you coiling in his stomach, but unable to act on it.
For the rest of the night, Jacaerys tried to pick up the conversation with you again, and while you did speak with him, it seemed dull, like you were uninterested. He felt incredibly stupid, knowing he had messed up, but despite that, he couldn’t jump over his shadow to address the problem. So he didn’t. He pushed his disappointment in himself aside and tried his best to control the jealousy he felt whenever you accepted the dance of another man, acting like didn’t care at all, especially when Luke was watching, shaking his head.
Cregan was luckily too busy to entertain his guests to meddle, occasionally drawing Jacaerys into his side to clink their cups. Overall, (despite his personal failings) the celebration was a success. It was late in the night, nearing the hour of the wolf when Jacaerys finally retired to his chambers. He had dropped Luke off at his own chambers just before, his younger brother having one too many of the mulled wine and immediately dozing off in clothes.
Shutting the door with his foot, Jacaerys unpinned his cloak, tugging his doublet off, draping it over the small ottoman. His hands were in the collar of his tunic, ready to take it off when short raps on his door made him pause. Was that Cregan fetching him for another drink?
Jacaerys opened the door and his eyebrows rising in surprise when he saw who it was.
“My lady…”
You were standing in front of him, dark cloak slung around your shoulders, about the last person he had expected to come knocking on his door after his last conversation with you had gone. Your face was bare from any trace of cosmetics, but your cheeks still held a rosy glow. Jacaerys peered out into the dark hallway, expecting a handmaiden or anyone accompanying you, but alas, you were by yourself.
“It is late. Is something the matter?” he asked, concerned.
“Everything is fine,” you assured him. “I was feeling a bit restless, I was wondering if you were up for some company?”
Despite feeling exhausted just a few seconds ago, Jacaerys was wide awake now, his heart thrumming with excitement at the prospect of spending time with you alone. But he couldn’t help but hesitate, questioning whether it was smart of him to put himself in a situation he couldn’t control, especially with you.
You sensed his hesitation, tilting your head curiously.
“I can leave, if you wish.”
Before you could even attempt to retreat, Jacaerys’ hand shot out to stop you, and as he saw the amusement on your face, he knew you had never intended to leave.
Minx, he thought to himself, opening his door wider to let you inside. Swiftly, you passed by him and Jacaerys made sure no one saw you enter, before shutting the door. As he turned around, he found you had already settled on the cushioned couch, appearing comfortably at ease.
“These are usually my chambers I stay in when I visit Winterfell,” you said nonchalantly, taking in the chambers and Jacaerys’ possessions that laid scattered around. “You can imagine my surprise when Cregan told me it was occupied for someone else when I arrived.”
Jacaerys tried not to imagine you laying in his bed as he sat down on the bench.
“They are the chambers I stayed in when I visited last time. I assume Cregan wanted me to feel comfortable.”
“The lengths we would go to to make sure you felt comfortable,” you said with a look in his direction and Jacaerys flushed, clearing his throat.
“Do you like these chambers for a reason or are you merely a creature of habit?”
“These are the only chambers that don’t have the fire place directly facing the bed,” you explained, your arms gesturing to the layout of the chambers.
“I know the Northeners like to keep the fire on at night to feel cozy, but I tend to get a little… Hot.”
Oh.
His mouth ran a little dry and he only managed to blink at you, as you grinned, your eyes slowly trailing down his body.
“I imagine it is the same for you. What is it again, the motto of your house?”
Jacaerys opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out of it.
“Fire and blood?” finally pressed out and you arched an eyebrow at him.
“Are you asking or telling me?”
“Telling.”
Your mouth quirked up in a smirk and you brushed your hair back with a flick. “I must say, I have to admit that I thought you less nervous when no one was around.”
“You thought me less nervous when it is just you and I alone in a room?”
“Now when you say it like that…” you mused. “I told you that you do not have to worry about your behavior, I do not know any of the rules you have to abide by.”
“That’s not why I’m nervous,” Jacaerys said with a small laugh and you creased your forehead, looking at him questioningly.
“Is that not what you told me at supper?”
Jacaerys sighed, a chuckle leaving his lips and he had no other choice than to confess.
“You make me nervous because I do not know how to act around you. You make me stutter, lose my footing. I was never anything less than charming when it comes to talking to ladies, but you for some reason…”
Your face contorted from confusion to understanding and then glee.
“And I was starting to think you were letting me down easy.”
“I- what?” The indignation in Jacaerys’ tone made you laugh. “Let you down? Surely you must be jesting.”
“What was I to think? I was not exactly being subtle, my prince.”
Jacaerys bit down on his lower lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, but he eased off.
“I’m trying my best to uphold my honor. And yours.”
You let out a small laugh, lifting your hand to deftly unhook your cloak. Jacaerys averted his eyes as soon as the cloak slid off your shoulders, but he could see out of the corner of his eyes that you were wearing nothing but a nightgown with long lacey sleeves. Jacaerys had never seen a nightgown like that before.
“Would it not be dishonorable to deny yourself what you truly want?”
Jacaerys dared to glance at you, swallowing thickly when he realized that you had come closer, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. He exhaled sharply, feeling his cock stirring in his breeches, thankful that his tunic was untucked, covering his excitement.
“What if your future husband would cast you aside knowing you have laid with another man?”
You smiled at him, your hand reaching out to trace the neckline of his tunic.
“I think if my husband were to cast me aside for enjoying the pleasure of sex, he is not the right man for me.”
Jacaerys held his breath as you looked at him through your lashes. He managed to stay strong for about three more seconds, before he let out a frustrated groan, his hand curling around to pull you close, pressing his lips on yours.
You sighed softly into the kiss, your mouth pliable as Jacaerys moved against them, the kiss nearly driving him insane.
He needed more.
Tightening his grip on your waist, Jacaerys pulled you into his lap, situating your legs on either side of him.
“I have been going insane,” Jacaerys whispered against your lips, his finger tips dancing up your arm. “Trying to keep my composure, act like a prince, but one look from you and I lost the ability to string a sentence together.”
“Please,” you gasped as his hand wrapped around the back of your head to tilt it back, placing featherlight kisses on the column of your neck.” Cregan was telling me to behave - for once - because his great friend, the crown prince of the Seven Realms was to attend his nameday celebrations, but how could I when you’re just so-”
Your sentence trailed off in a sigh and Jacaerys pulled back to look at you, an eyebrow arched.
“I am so...?”
“Infuriatingly handsome.” Your voice was breathless as you spoke, hands slipping under his tunic and Jacaerys lifted his arms to help you take it off before you discarded it to the floor carelessly. “Like you were carved out of marble.”
You caressed him with your fingertips over his chest, your touch so tantalizing he had to shift his hips to ease the pressure on his breeches, a motion that did not go unignored by you at the sound of the small whimper that left your mouth, a sound that went directly to his south. He leaned in to kiss you again, before maneuvering you off his lap, standing so he could lead you over to the bed. His touch was gentle, but firm as you followed his lead to lay down at the edge of the bed, your nightgown bunching up at your calves.
“You don’t even know the affect you have on me… You had me on my knees,” he murmured, pushing your gown up. “I’m the crown prince of the seven realms. I don’t kneel for anyone.”
He might make an exception for you.
With his hands on your calves, pulling you closer, Jacaerys got to his knees, peppering small kisses on your inner thigh, making you squirm. He could smell the warmth of your musk as he neared your cunt, your smallclothes displaying a small patch of wetness he couldn’t help but be thrilled by.
“Lift your hips,” Jacaerys said, and when you did, he tugged your smallclothes off easily. He let out a soft breath when coming face to face with your cunt, sliding one finger through your folds. The moan out of your mouth sounded like heaven to him.
“Jace…” you sighed and his breeches got impossibly tighter, but he wanted you to finish first before he could even think about himself. Jacaerys applied a little pressure on your pearl with his thumb, inching closer, his breath hot on your lips before he licked a strip up your cunt. You responded with a small groan, your hands tangled into his locks and he knew he was on the right track.
He kept drawing circles on the small nub over your cunt, his tongue exploring between your folds, trying to elicit every moan and sigh out of your mouth possible, repeating his motions that seemed to please you the most. Soon, Jacaerys had you writhing on his bed, your hand tightened around his hair in a grip that nearly hurt, but he didn’t care.
“Jacaerys…” you breathed out, your hips lifting from the bed; he merely pushed it down with his free hand. “Don’t- I’m so..”
Jacaerys nuzzled his mouth even further into your cunt he not thought possible, the circles he was drawing onto your pearl becoming tighter, smaller until you let out an especially loud moan of his name, your cunt pulsating.
With a breath heave, you fell back into the cushions and Jacaerys pulled back from between your legs, not without leaving a lingering kiss on your inner thigh. You looked absolutely marvelous, blissed out on his bed, your sweaty hair sticking to your forehead. If he had to guess, he must not look any better, his entire face must be covered in you.
“Is this behavior befit for a crown prince?” you asked, chest still heaving. Jacaerys quirked a smile at you, brushing his hair back.
“For a lady like you, without question.”
A small laughter escaped your lips, and you tugged him down to kiss him, your hands slipping beneath his trousers and then his breeches, wrapping around his cock. Jacaerys hissed, bucking into your hands, realizing he was still fully clothes from the waist down. Giving you one last kiss, he reluctantly pulled away from you, taking his boots off, and then slowly pushing his trousers off, his smallclothes along with it.
He couldn’t help but flush as he stood in front of your inquisitive eyes, still wearing your nightgown but looking incredibly debauched, your gaze… Hungry. He got on the bed, crawling towards you on his knees, fingers gingerly pushing your nightgown off your shoulders - you didn’t lift a hand to help him, but merely watched as his eyes grew wide when he finally pushed your nightgown down, as it pooled around your waist.
“You were made by the gods,” he mumbled into your skin, mouth latching on the sensitive skin of your tits, his other hand gently rolling your nipples until it formed into a stiff peak. He leaned up, kissing you deeply and as he moaned into your mouth, he pulled away, breathing hard.
“Do you…” he trailed off, unsure how to word it.
“I will die an immediate death if I don’t,” you said, extremely serious. “Lay back.”
As Jacaerys settled into the mountain of cushions, you knelt in front of him, nightgown long gone. You positioned yourself over his lap, just as he had earlier, hand wrapping around his cock to guide it to your cunt, which was still sopping wet. Jacaerys let out a slow, guttural groan as you lowered yourself onto his cock, until he was fully sheated inside of you.
“Are you feeling alright?” he pressed out, his hands finding your hips to pull out incase you were feeling uncomfortable.
“Perfect,” you breathed, lips parted and eyes hooded. You leaned a hand on his chest, impulsively rolling your hips and Jacaerys moaned, throwing his head back. Slowly, the two of you found your rhythm as you rode him, in slow, but deep hip thrusts. His chambers was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin, whispers of his name and moans of yours. It wasn’t long until Jacaerys felt the familiar tension in his lower stomach, knowing he was close, while you were still moving on top of him, head thrown back.
If he had it his way, he would shoot his load into you, making you his, but the last thing he wanted was to trap you, so he stilled your hips, holding you in place and turning you so he was on top of you. Your hair fanned out on the bed, and Jacaerys kissed you, tongue licking into your mouth as he drove his cock into you with deep, but slow thrusts; his thumb was pressing into your pearl simultaneously.
“Jace,” you whined, your walls clenching and he nearly lost it right then and there. “Please…”
Jacaerys snapped his hips into you harder, leaning his head against yours as he did and after one particular deep thrust, you held onto his bicep as you moaned his name in a way that would ingrain into his brain for the rest of his life and he quickly pulled out, before he emptied his load in thick, white spurts onto your stomach. With a small groan, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed next to you, neither speaking for a few seconds, catching your breath.
Jacaerys was the first to rise, pushing his hair back, standing to find a wet rag to clean you up. His touch was gentle as he cleaned your stomach, disposing of the dirty rag, lingering on the side of the bed.
“Do you want to stay? For a little while, at least?”
You turned your head to look at him, corners of your mouth tugging up. “If you’ll have me, my prince.”
Jacaerys snorted out a laughter, settling into bed next to you, making sure to pull up the blanket to cover your naked body, even though a warmth was emanating from you, it was rivaling his own.
“Are you sure you’re not a distant kin of Aegon the Conqueror?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “You would fit right into our house.”
“I find it very flattering that you think I have royal blood in me,” you laughed as your fingertips traced along his arm.
“It is only a question,” Jacaerys mused. “I think you would get along well with my mother.”
“A foreign girl in front of the esteemed queen of the Seven Realms? I wouldn’t stand a chance. Her royal knights would behead me as soon as I curtsied the wrong way.”
And as the fire crackled in the far corner of the chambers, pressed against your side, Jacaerys knew that while you spoke in jest, he wouldn’t mind you meeting his mother, even if that was highly unlikely. Coming the following morning it seemed like he would never see you again, with you returning home and him returning to King’s Landing.
And while he was a dragon rider, he wasn’t sure if that distance would be easy for him to cover, considering the fact he had duties he had to attend to, he couldn't just leave whenever he pleased, no matter how much he wanted to.
“I really enjoyed your company,” you then said, your voice a bittersweet tone. Jacaerys pressed his nose against your neck, biting back the question if you wanted to come with him, see King’s Landing. He knew he was being foolish.
Oracles were only admired if they were royalty. For a merchant's daughter like you, prophetic claims came with marks of a heretic and "burn at the stake" threats.
You coughed up dust when you were pushed onto the stone floor. There was silence around you, one that seemed more curious than haughty.
You carefully looked up to see Queen Rhaenyra, who looked as if you were a dead lion that just fell from the sky.
"What is the meaning of this?" There was fury and familiarity behind those words, and you groaned as you registered Jacaerys Velaryon in the room. He had his eyes trained on the guards and was intentionally ignoring yours.
Great.
"She's a witch!" The first guard yelled, sounding like he had a personal vendetta against you. It might had something to do with how you kicked his balls earlier to try to be freed from him, but you weren't sure.
Daemon Targaryen laughed. The sound made you look around the room properly. Daemon and Rhaenys were seated opposite each other, both looking more intimidating than the other. There were at least five guards around the room. But perhaps the most intimidating of them all was Rhaenyra herself, who looked fierce and gentle all at once. She gave off a godlike aura, which had you half tongue-tied. Jace stood a few paces in front of her.
"A witch?" She asked, almost exhausted. "How is she a witch?"
"She's from Driftmark—" a second guard said, sounding more civil than the last.
"That explains it," Darmon interrupted, smirking at Rhaenys. The latter rolled her eyes.
"Daughter of a merchant who migrated from Westeros three years ago. Her stepmother wrote to us saying there is a witch in her family, and presented us with enough information that we had no choice but to act."
"I'm not a witch," you sneered. The first guard kicked you down to the floor.
"Silence!" He yelled; and you felt rage and humiliation rising tenfold.
When you could look up again, everyone was staring at Jace. He had his sword out, pointed directly at the chin of the guard. Everyone was appalled. Everyone except Daemon, who looked proud.
"You will not treat a lady with disrespect in Queen's court ever again, or you'll be dismissed," he said plainly.
The guard seemed to calm down considerably. "Yes, my prince."
The prince in question did not look satisfied, but he put away his sword. It went without saying that he still hasn't spared a glance towards you.
"What's this information that convinced you she was a witch?" Rhaenyra asked, skeptical.
As the third guard brought your scrolls forward, you knew you were doomed.
"My stepmother just wanted to ask the palace for money in my exchange!" You cried out. "I'm not a witch!"
No one seemed to have heard your protests. The guard gave the scrolls to Rhaenyra, who took some and gave the rest to her husband. Daemon opened them, his interest evident.
"These are just drawings," Rhaenyra turned the paper upside down, as if they'd make more sense that way. Jace looked as if he wanted to spare a glance, but he hesitated and stood his ground.
"They're her predictions," the first guard answered, almost hissing. "It speaks of many things... including Lucerys Velaryon's death." Rhaenyra paled at the words. You knew the wound about her son was still fresh, and you instantly felt sorry for her. "If she had a hand in his death—"
"I didn't."
"Then it was a concern to not chain her," he finished, triumphant. "Should I bring her to the dungeons, Your Highness?"
Rhaenyra thought for a while before answering. "This seems like not enough proof to force upon a conviction on someone. These scrolls could mean anything—"
"Apologies, Your Grace, this needs immediate attention." Maester Gerardys burst through the doors with a message in his hands. He ignored you, the guards, the scrolls — as if none of it was remotely comparable to what he was going to say.
"Jaehaeyrs Targaryen is dead."
Silence filled the room once again. You felt like you were invading a moment you shouldn't be in. But if Maester saw you, he didn't think you enough of importance so he went on.
"Decapitated... They think you ordered them to do it! That's the news spreading through the streets anyway."
"Me?" Rhaenyra looked surprised at the implication.
"Two," Daemon spoke up, his face buried in the scrolls. Your scrolls. Everyone stared at him.
"What?"
"There are two sketches of funeral pyres. Both look small enough to be children's." Daemon met your eyes. "One has the Velaryon crest, and one has the Targaryen crest."
You closed your eyes, sighing.
--
Even though the dungeon was dark and uncomfortable, you fell asleep the moment dusk arrived.
You weren't even surprised when you dreamt of him; A vegetable stall, and a boy.
A teen with dark hair and brown eyes, seemingly dressed down from the rest of the royals. Even then, his fabric was finer than anything you've ever seen. If disguise was what he was going for, he hadn't done it right.
"Would you like some apples?" you asked on behalf of your father, who was sleeping in for the day. Who could blame him? You were tired in the scorching heat, and it hadn't even been three hours since you started.
"Uhm, yes please. How much for them?"
You named your price and he frowned.
"Am I supposed to bargain?" He asked, blinking.
This earned a laugh. "Don't your servants usually do the shopping?"
There was a pause and he paled under your daring gaze. "How did you-"
"You're wearing a Targaryen ring."
"Who's to say it's not a stolen relic? Or fake?"
"If it was stolen, you wouldn't parade it around in daylight."
"I would if it meant pretty girls mistaking me for the Prince."
"—and if it's fake," you continued, ignoring his comment. Men flirting was as common as fruits rotting. It often had nothing to do with who they were talking with, and more about getting abed. "The guards confiscate any fake things made in the name of the Crown."
"Fine, you caught me," he sighed, taking the ring off and dropping it inside his clothes. "There. I'm off Prince duty now."
"Jacaerys!" A guard with long, dark hair and a matching beard seemed relieved at the sight of the Prince. The latter groaned. You were curious about why he wasn't addressed with formalities. You hadn't guessed there would be friendships between the royals and those who served them. "What have I told you about running off?"
"I thought my younger brother could use a one-on-one with you. I've already mastered my swordsmanship."
"Hardly!" The guard scoffed, then noticed you. "Forgive us miss, we've a long way off the castle so you'll excuse us now."
You were reeling from how polite they both sounded. You nodded curtly. The guard might as well have dragged the Prince by his arms.
"I'll come for the apples another time!" Jacerys yelled behind his shoulders.
And he did.
Again and again.
He soon confided in you that the guard gave him and his brother private lessons in an abandoned ground outside the town, and that it was the reason for his frequent visits. The guard soon warmed up to you too, and he was positively in love with the grapes you sold. He told you his name was Ser Harwin Strong. Jace said others called him Breakbones. You didn't know why because the man had the gentlest eyes.
Then one day, both of them just stopped coming.
No explanation, nothing. It was like they never existed.
---------------------------------------
"Wake up, the Queen wants to see you." The keepsman said, nudging your shoulders. You scrambled to your feet, eyes blinded by the fire lamps lit all around.
Before you could so much as adjust your hair, Rhaenyra briskly walked in. She nodded her head and the guards left the room, closing the wooden door behind them.
"Good wishes, Your Grace." You wanted to look down to the floor, but you couldn't keep your eyes off her. She was wearing black robes with red stones that carved into an intricate design, which looked suspiciously like a dragon tail. She sat down on the makeshift bed, her fingers intertwined.
"You can be honest with me."
You blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"I wouldn't hang you or — burn you in a stake," she said firmly. "You can tell me the truth, any and all of it."
"You believe in magic?" you were bewildered.
"In a kingdom ruled by dragons, magic isn't far off the table."
"I'm not a witch," you said, almost stumbling over your words. She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not — I don't know what I am. Someone... something is talking through me. It does the sketches, not me. I'm a spectator to whatever I'm drawing."
Rhaenyra looked like she wanted to interrupt when you started sounding more panicked. But you paid her no heed.
"I say it's nonsense all the time. True, I predicted the storm two summers ago but how was I to know a vision of a tree in the middle of the ocean had any impact on what went above it? Isn't that just pure idiotic?"
"Y/N—"
"A vision once told me I would get married to a red boar, for fuck's sake!"
"Red boar?"
"Another time I saw a goose looking in a mirror and then killing itself. Don't know what that means either, do I?!"
The Queen reached for your hand, bringing you back from the evergrowing spiral inside your head. You realized you were gasping for air.
"You don't have to have all the answers," she said consolingly. "It wasn't fair of me to ask that much."
You nodded, calming down. "Thank you."
She stood up. "I'll make sure you're given dinner after your next visitor."
"Next?"
"How do you know him, I wonder?" she met your eyes questioningly. "My son?"
"I don't," you replied, just as fast. She didn't look one bit convinced but nodded anyway. Then she left without another word.
Jacaerys came in right as she left. He was wearing a different set of robes, but the vest looked the same. His hair had gotten even messier, which you didn't think was possible. Suddenly, you were aware of what you wore. All you had was your white nightgown, which you were still wearing when you had been forced out of bed.
"I want you to be one of the council advisors," he stated, all business-like.
"Uhm, what?"
"You're a prophet," he sat down where Rhaenyra did, though he looked more uncomfortable about it. "You're an asset."
You snorted. It was very much like a royal family to say something like that. "I'd disagree, Your Grace."
"You don't have to do the titles." Then he noted how you looked mad. He sighed. "I'm sor-"
"I'm sorry about your brother," you interjected, and sadness filled his face. But he ignored your comment and looked at his hands instead. He still had the Targaryen ring, along with a few other new ones. You frowned at one of them in particular, but he spoke before you look longer at it.
"Ser Harwin Strong was my father."
So much about the sentence had you in surprise, but only one mattered above all others.
"Was?"
"He died two days after the last time I visited you," he nodded. "Which is also why I never came again. Foul play was suspected in his death, but never confirmed. They found a new guard for me, one who trained me inside the palace walls."
"I'm sorry." You didn't know what else to say.
"I missed you everyday, if that counts."
You smiled. "It does."
"And that skill of yours? Seeing future? Do not push it down." His voice was firm. "Control it. No matter what you think, it's a power. And whoever gave you that power wouldn't have given it to you if they thought you couldn't handle it."
Now you really didn't know what to say.
"I'll have you transferred to a room. A nice one with a view out to the sea." He promised, standing up. "That is, if you agree to my offer to be an advisor."
"And my stepmother?"
"She's banished from the castle, of course. Not a coin given, even though what she gave us is invaluable. She just didn't know it."
"Oh, please." You laughed.
"I hope I'll see you soon, Y/N," Jace said wholeheartedly, noting how his visit was coming to an end. As he stepped out of the dungeon, you were still thinking about his words.
And also his ring, specifically the one that had a tusked animal carved on it, entirely out of pure ruby.
In other words, a red boar.
THE END
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some notes
Ser Harwin dies wayyy earlier but I tweaked the timeline to be aligned here.
the goose killing its reflection prophecy was reference to Halaena's drawings.
which speaks about Erryk and Arwyn's deaths. Goose is their crest.
I'm not sure if I should continue this story 'cause it holds up good on its own as a oneshot! But if you'd like, you can drop ideas for the continuance of this fic or other new jace fics @ my asks!
ty for reading and here's my coffee page if you want to support me :)
