Chapter Text
“If you wanted to be queen so much, you could’ve had Valarr. At least your son would’ve been king too.”
That’s what Maekar said to his eldest daughter, Jaehaera, on the day she wed his elder brother, Baelor. Jaehaera simply rolled her eyes and told her father to enjoy the day as the people cheered behind them as they entered the great Sept of Baelor. She looked over her shoulder and waved. At that moment, she wanted to tell him it was all his fault.
Princess Jaehara is the eldest child and daughter of Prince Maekar and the late Dyanna Dayne. She, out of all of her siblings, looked the most like her mother. She looked more Dayne than Targaryen with her long dark hair and dark blue eyes. The scowl that would form on her face and crass words that would come out of her mouth when she got mad were the evidence she was Prince Maekar’s daughter.
When her mother died, Jaehaera, still young, took it upon herself to care for her youngest siblings while her father grieved. So much so that more than once the little ones have accidentally called her Momma. Princess Daella sought her first in tears when her moonblood arrived for the first time. For Aemon and Egg, she would be the damsel in distress in their games. She would braid her little Rhae’s hair every morning.
But it wasn’t easy for the young princess to take on all of this responsibility. Even though she adored her father with all of her heart and did her best to be the example of a dutiful daughter, Jaehaera couldn’t help but feel resentful towards him.
Especially when she comforted Daeron with his fits and dreams, which she didn’t know how to interpret but somehow always came true. When Aemon was sent to the citadel, even though she knew he tried to stop it and that Aemon would thrive in that environment. When Rhae would snuggle up to her and call her momma. When Aegon would hide in her chambers to escape their brother Aerion’s torment. It was exhausting. She took care of everyone. Who takes care of Jaehaera?
When spring arrived, Uncle Baelor and his sons, Valarr and Matarys, came to Summerhall. The motive of the visit became clear as soon as black and red banners appeared at the end of the road. Father drew her close to him and advised her to be a good host to Valarr. She said with a smile. “Of course, Father.”
Valarr must have also understood the motive for this visit. For whenever his father whispered to him, he would appear almost immediately beside her, complimenting her intelligence and beauty.
One late evening, the two young cousins sat by themselves a little far away from the rest of the family, in the drawing room. Aerion and Daeron were nowhere in sight, probably for the best. Matarys played with Daella, Rhae, and Aegon. Maekar and Baelor were chatting by the windows. They would occasionally look at them to check if they were engaging in "courtly love". After Father looked at them for the umpteenth time, Jaehaera leaned in and whispered.
"We should tell our fathers we've fallen madly in love so they can't stop staring at us like fishermen's wives looking for gossip.
Valarr chuckled as he glanced at the princes. He leaned in closer. "My father is constantly giving me advice on how to speak to you. How to compliment and how to make you laugh.”
“I feel wounded, cousin,” Jaehaera said, pretending to feel hurt. “Does that mean I’m not the most beautiful and most clever princess in our house?”
Valarr simply shrugged his shoulders. "That is what my father thinks. Not me.”
Jaehaera lifted her hand to give Valarr's arm a light smack. He recoiled in laughter. Jaehaera chuckled, too. As he observed this exchange, Baelor's face was lit up with approval.
"Don't you find the entire situation absurd?" Valarr asked, his voice growing grave.
“I agree. It begs the question of how they courted our mothers.” She joked while playing with the rings on her fingers. “What advice have our grandsire and grandmother given to them if telling us what to do and what to say is what is going to create a happy and stable union?”
“They are old; they have forgotten how unions start.”
"However, they ought to keep in mind how love is developed and fostered." She retorted. "After each campaign, my father gave my mother a star-shaped trinket. She would proudly wear it on every occasion. And I still remember how your father would have your lady mother as a dance partner for every feast.”
At the mention of his mother, Vallar lowered his chin. Jaehaera instinctively placed her hand on his shoulder. Although Valarr's back was turned to him, Baelor noticed a change in his son's demeanour. Jaehaera nodded, assuring him that she could handle it. Baelor nodded in response.
"He hasn’t danced with anyone since she passed. No matter how much the ladies of the court would request."
They stayed in silence for a moment, listening to the children laugh. Jaehaera watched as Rhae used Matarys as a makeshift horse, Daella did her embroidery and Aegon played with his wooden dagger.
“Perhaps it is the grief that is blinding them.” Valarr’s voice pulled her to him. “Be honest with me, cousin. Do you want to marry me?”
Jaehaera pondered her response. Her cousin, like his father, is an honourable man who will make an excellent king in the future. He will need a good wife to guide him. Just like Queen Alysanne and their grandmother did. “If our union helps keep the realm at peace and our family, then yes. I wish to marry you.”
Valarr looked at her with pity. Jaehaera did not enjoy it when they looked at her with pity.
“Do you wish to marry me?” She now asked him.
“Jaehaera,” Valarr starts. “Although my words have been laid out by my father, they are still the truth, and I believe them. You are the fairest and most clever princess in our house. You manage the household when your father is away without fuss. I’ve seen the way you are with your brothers and sisters. You’ll be a great wife and mother, and I would be honoured to be the man by your side.”
"But?"
“My heart beats for another.” He says without hesitation.
Jaehaera closes her eyes and sighs. “What is her name?”
“Kiera of Tyrosh.” He says each syllable of her name slowly and tenderly.
Oh, how she wished someone would say her name like that.
“Do you wish to marry her?”
“Yes.”
“Then why in the seven hells are you still here with me instead of her?”
Valarr smiled. “They’re not going to be happy.”
“My father will not be happy.” She interjected. “Yours will understand.”
Valarr stands up and leans to kiss her cheek. “Do not worry. I will make sure you are not to blame for this failed courtship.”
“You are kind, cousin.” She said, “I hope I find a noble man who will love me the same way you love Kiera of Tyrosh.”
“Don’t worry, cousin. You will.” He winked at her and walked towards Baelor and Maekar. “Uncle, I feel like sparring. Would you like to practise with me?”
Maekar looked at his nephew; perhaps he thinks the boy is taking the opportunity to ask for his blessing.
“Of course,” he says and looks at his brother. “Will you join us, brother?”
Baelor wasn’t looking at them. He was looking at Jaehaera, who was now in the company of her sister Daella and observing the little one’s new handiwork with her embroidery.
“Go ahead. I'll join you later.”
The princes nodded and left with Aegon and Matarys in tow. Jaehaera looked when Baelor sat on the chair previously occupied by his son.
“It seems like I won’t have you as a daughter-in-law, niece.”
“Unfortunately, not in this lifetime, Uncle.” She smiled.
Daella spoke up. “I’m actually glad.”
Jaehaera looked at her in amusement and curiosity. “And why is that?”
“It means you get to stay.”
Her heart grips at those words. Sadness flashes through her eyes, and it quickly goes away before Daella or Rhae could notice, but Baelor notices it.
"Father was not happy."
Egg said, when they were having a picnic in the garden. Aegon waved his wooden sword while Jaehaera sat on the blanket and read her book.
“Father is rarely happy.”
“He’s upset that Valarr rejected you. He kept saying:” Egg lowered his voice to sound like their father. “Who does that boy think he is, rejecting my Jaehaera?! He should grovel for her hand. Baelor spoils him.”
Jaehaera grinned.
“I think you would have been a good queen, sister.” Aegon said this with the sincerity only a child can possess.
He put down his wooden sword and approached her. She clasped his small hands and smiled at him. "And why do you believe so, little brother?"
"You are both kind and smart,” Aegon started. “Grandsire always said those are the good qualities of a queen. And besides, Aerion would have to kneel before you and obey your every word.”
Jaehaera burst out laughing and hugged Aegon. “Now I do wish I was queen.”
"Maybe it is for the best, sister." A cold voice swept through the garden, cutting the joy that Aegon and Jaehaera were experiencing. “The last thing Valarr needs is a woman to whisper in his ear about tales of being kind and soft-hearted. "If the Blackfyres rebelled again, we'd be finished."
Aerion stared at Aegon with a cold look that made Egg quickly hide behind Jaehaera.
“What is this nonsense coming out of your mouth, you insolent pup? As if I'd bend the knee for this dull wench."
“A harmless jest, brother.” Jaehaera stands up and pulls Aegon further behind her. She was not only the oldest but also the tallest, which always irritated Aerion. “Don’t take it too seriously, and there’s no need to throw insults.”
Aerion chuckled dryly. "Uncle and his pups will be leaving in a few days. Good. I can't take another day of Father moaning about your failure. You could have done us all a favour by sucking our cousin's cock when you had the opportunity."
Jaehaera tightens her jaw and throws the book at him, but the arrogant jerk just dodges.
“A harmless jest, sister.” He was laughing. "There's no need to take it seriously.
“Get out of here, you cunt!”
Aerion continued to laugh and turned to leave.
Her heart pounded quickly, and she breathed heavily through her nose. She cannot remember when Aerion was kind. Maybe as a baby or toddler. She can't pinpoint a time in her life when he began to treat them cruelly. She only remembers her braids being pulled, the mean words, the heads of her dolls being severed, her sobs, and her mother scolding him, but it never stopped. Jaehaera learned to lock her belongings with a key to keep them secure.
Aegon let go of her skirts and moved to where her book was lying after Aerion vanished from sight. He picks it up, carefully sweeping away the grass and unfolding the pages. He walks back to her and gives her back the book.
“Here, sister. Uncle Aerys would go into a fit if he had seen what you did to The Loves of Queen Nymeria.”
With her blood still running hot, Jaehaera was unable to laugh.
The day before Baelor and his sons left, and Jaehaera’s mind was running with a million thoughts, she snuck out of the castle. She went to the stable, handed the stableboy some chocolates as compensation for his silence, and climbed on her horse.
In the woods, near the Summerhall castle, there was a perfect spot for Jaehaera to sit and simply do nothing. It was a lovely, thick oak tree with branches full of green leaves that provided the ideal shade and served as a perfect seat.
She sat on her spot with her back against the tree and listen to the birds tweeting and looked at the clouds in the beautiful blue sky, trying to guess their shape.
Just when she began to wonder if the cloud was shaped like a bear or a kitten, a branch snapped. She held her breath and her body became still. She waited the next sound. Maybe it's the natural sound of the woods. The leaves crumbled. Jaehaera gathered up a nearby rock and sprang up. She was prepared for whatever lay ahead. Whether it is a boar, a mountain lion, or Aerion.
She turned and all of her worries faded away.
It’s not a boar, a mountain lion or Aerion.
It is only Uncle Baelor, who was looking at her with amusement.
She must be quite a sight! A princess of the blood with leaves clinging to her cloak, a mad look in her eyes and a rock as her only weapon of defense.
"Be careful, niece." He laughed as he spoke. "To strike the king's heir with a rock is treason."
Jaehaera laughed and dropped the rock, her cheeks flushed with shame. "Please forgive me, Uncle. Nonetheless, you should be aware that approaching a lady without first announcing your presence is considered rude.”
"You should also be aware that a lady should never be alone in the woods without a guard or chaperone by her side."
"Yes, I am aware of that." She plucked a leaf that was stuck on her cape. “However, this is one of the few places where I can be alone without someone vying for my attention-"
“Understandable.” He said. "I occasionally hide in one of the Red Keep's many rooms and simply lie on the floor when things get too loud."
“Lie on the floor?” She asked amused and bewildered.
“Yes, the cold floor cools my head.”
Jaehaera smiled. “How did you know I was here?”
“I saw you retrieve your horse from the stables and go to the woods. When hours passed and you didn’t return, I got concerned. The stableboy was quick to tell me where to find you.”
“There's no need to worry, Uncle.” She reassured him. “I come here all the time. I have not been bothered by any man or animal.”
“Yet.” He said almost grimly. “I doubt a rock would be enough to protect you.”
Jaehaera let out a sigh and bowed her head in defeat. “Are you going to tell Father?”
She can picture it. Even though she was his best-behaved child, he still scolded her. If Daeron wasn’t sober, or the girls weren’t behaving like proper ladies, or Aerion was acting like a prick, she too had to hear from him. To bear some responsibility for their shortcomings.
“You are the oldest, and you are supposed to set an example! How are you letting them behave like this?” Her father had shouted at her more than once.
Jaehaera simply remained mute and gave in to her father. She would apologies at the end of each reprimand and promise him that she would be watching them more closely. When Jaehaera misbehaved as a child, he would just stare her down and say he was disappointed. When he said those words, she would wait until he was out of earshot to start sobbing. Her mother would come, clean her tears and tell her he did not mean any of it.
If Prince Maekar were to learn that his eldest daughter was walking around the woods alone, he would lock her in her chamber, and she wouldn’t be able to walk around Summerhall without at least a dozen guards or Septas watching her every step.
“No,” Baelor answered.
Her brows raised in surprise.
“Why?” She whispered so lowly that she wondered if he even heard her question.
Baelor Targaryen, a man who followed every rule, wouldn’t let a lady, be she blood or not, walk around with danger nearby.
“While we don’t have the opportunity to see each other often. You, in the Summerhall. Me, King's Landing. These past few days have been enough to see how much pressure you put on yourself. Ever since your lady mother passed, you have been the one to take care of your siblings. And as the eldest, I understand how much it exhausts you. If this place brings you peace, I cannot take that from you.”
His words almost brought her to tears.
“You are too kind, Uncle.”
“Just allow me to stay with you for a while or at least leave you a dagger.” He said. “I do not like the thought of you alone and unprotected.”
“Of course.” She nodded and went back to her spot on the tree. “Sit next to me, Uncle.”
Baelor sat next to her, and the silence returned. It was a comfortable silence. After a while, the sounds of the birds chirping started to become too repetitive, and Jaehaera craved a new sound. She craved Baelor’s voice.
“Say something, Uncle.” She asked softly.
“What do you want me to say, my darling?”
“Anything.”
He complies with her request. He recounted events from his early years. Stories featuring her father she didn't know existed. Obscure history of their house and others. She closed her eyes and listened.
At some point, during one of his stories, she sat even closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. He didn't mind and put his thicker cloak around them and pulled her closer; his hand rested on the crook of her elbow.
She opened her eyes and looked at the hand on her arm as he described a long-ago tournament. Baelor's hand is tanned, his fingers long, and embellished with silver rings. They appeared almost pristine, but you could see the calluses. Built up from years of wielding spears and blades.
She grabbed hold of his hand. It was quite warm. She toyed with one of the rings as if it were attached to her finger. Moving them around, taking them off, and placing them back on. He didn't appear to mind as he continued to speak. She became bolder without realising it. She spread their hands to compare sizes. Hers was clearly smaller than his.
She locked their fingers together.
Then he gripped her hand.
That's when she noticed he had stopped speaking. She looked up and found him staring right at her. His face was closer to hers, and she started to notice more details about his appearance. The bump on his nose after being broken twice. The lines of his face became prominent when he smiled. The many specks of grey in his beard. His kind dark eyes.
The ladies of the court have always said he was the king’s most handsome son. She couldn’t agree more. Her eyes flickered to his lips, and she wondered how they would feel against hers.
She decided to test it.
Jaehaera lifted her head and put her lips against his. His were surprisingly soft, and his beard pleasantly tickled her. Baelor responded to the kiss and moved his lips against hers. Her hands went to his neck, and she pulled herself even closer to him. He grabbed her hips with a firm but not bruising grip to keep her steady.
The kiss started to become bolder. He gingerly bit her lip. A request. She opened her mouth and let his tongue in. He pulled his lips away and began kissing her face just as she thought she was about to faint from lack of air.
Her eyes, which had been closed the entire time, looked up at skies that were now covered with tinges of purple. Baelor kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheeks and finally her neck. The feeling of his beard against her neck created goosebumps all over her body. Jaehaera found herself smiling like a fool. She gripped his cloak so tightly her knuckles went white. She gripped him like she was afraid he was going to disappear and this moment was just an illusion.
“Baelor…” She whispers.
Jaehaera doesn’t know what to say or what to do. Her mind is blank. One thing she knows is that she doesn’t want this to stop. She wanted him to do whatever he wanted to her. She trusts him. She feels good. She desires him. She wants more.
As he kissed and tasted her neck skin, Jaehaera shifted her body so that she was straddling his lap like a horse. When she sat on his lap, she felt something hard on her thigh. She understood what that was. She read enough books on it. He was making her happy, and she hoped he felt the same way.
She rolled her hips, and he became stiff. He stopped kissing her neck and just breathed heavily against her neck. She stopped smiling.
“Baelor?”
Baelor shifted his face away from her neck and put his forehead on her shoulder. The hardness she felt on her thigh was softening. They were sitting in silence again, but this time it wasn't as calm as before. It was tense.
She was going to ask him what was wrong and what she had done wrong when he gently took her from his lap and placed her on the ground. He stood up and began to walk away, but not before leaving a dagger on the dirt.
She sat paralyzed, watching him walk away from her. Her prior feelings of pleasure and excitement have vanished, leaving her with a sense of dread. She stood up, took up the dagger, and began racing after him.
“Uncle!” She shouted. “Please! Wait!”
He continued walking.
Is he going to tell Father? Is he going to tell Grandsire? Is she going to be sent to Oldetown and forced to become a novice? That’s what happened to Saera Targaryen. She’ll spend years praying for forgiveness. For leading her uncle to sin. For daring to replace Lady Jena’s touch.
“Please do not think ill of me!” She pleaded as hot tears ran down her face.
That slowed Baelor in his tracks. He turned. His expression was one of surprise and appalled. He instantly reached her and took her into his arms. She wasn't unsure what to do. She wasn't sure where to put her hands. She simply leaned her weight against him and let him hold her.
He grasped her face and tenderly brushed away a tear with his thumb. “Jaehaera. It is me who should be saying that. It is me who should be begging for your forgiveness.”
She shook her head in his hands. She started it, kissed him, and rubbed against him like a common whore. That is what she wanted to say, but only sobs came out.
“Jaehaera.” He said her name again more firmly. “This should’ve never happened. This can never happen again. And for your protection, you must tell no one. Do you understand?”
She kept sobbing.
“Jaehaera!” He shouted.
“Yes!” She cried. “Yes! I’m sorry.”
Baelor closed his eyes and said nothing further. He led her to the horses. They returned to the castle in silence. Neither of them dared to say anything or look at the other.
Jaehaera observed sorrowfully from the entryway of the Summerhall castle as the stable boys led the horses to the front. Father and Uncle chatted among themselves. Maekar's annoyance at his eldest daughter's rejection must have faded away as the talk was devoid of tension.
The cousins said their goodbyes. Valarr kissed her hand and stated he couldn't wait to see her at the wedding. Jaehaera smiled and told him to hug Kiera of Tyrosh.
She assumed Baelor wasn't going to bid his goodbyes to her. He didn't look when they were breaking fast, even though they exchanged nice words. But when Valarr and Matarys mounted their horses, he appeared in front and gazed at her.
She bowed. Her gaze fixated on the ground, "Safe travels, uncle."
“Thank you, my dear.” He replied. “I believe we will see each other soon in Dragonstone for the wedding.”
She nodded.
She thought that was it, but he didn’t move.
“Jaehaera…” He stopped himself.
Jaehaera looked at him.
Baelor looked at her, his expression stiff.
They didn’t say a word until Baelor sighed and turned.
“Baelor,” Jaehaera called, but quietly so the others couldn’t hear.
He looked over his shoulder.
“I still have your dagger.” She simply said.
“Keep it.” He said. “I told you I don’t like the thought of you alone without protection.
The conversation ended, and Baelor hopped on his horse. The heir and his heirs disappeared down the road along with the guards. Not once did Baelor look back, even as Jaehaera silently prayed that he did. So she could take another glance at his eyes.
“What are you doing standing here like a statue?” A gruff voice called out.
Jaehaera looked at her father, who was looking back at her with a frown. A frown she has known her entire life.
She quickly composed herself. “Silently praying for the Father and the Mother to keep Uncle and cousins safe during their journey back home.”
Maekar scoffed. “It’s a two-day ride back to King’s Landing. The worst thing that can happen is an inconvenient rain.” He put his hand on her shoulder and guided her back inside.
As Jaehaera walked inside, she dared to speak for the first time about the failed courtship. “I’m sorry this visit didn’t result in what you wanted, Kepa.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one to say it?”
“Yes.” She answered. “But it did feel like this courtship was more between you and Uncle.”
“Don’t play with me, girl.” He scolded. “And don’t feel sorry for it. Can’t believe that boy believes an random woman from Tyrosh is better than a Targaryen princess.”
“That Tyroshi girl will be our queen, so it’s best to hold our tongues regarding her.”
“Well, she’s not married to the boy, so I can say whatever I want until they wed.”
Jaehaera rolled her eyes, but away from his view. She doesn't need a scolding for showing disrespect.
“When the wedding festivities start. It will be a good opportunity for you to find a suitable husband. You are nineteen; at that age a woman of your station should’ve been wed long ago. A lot of lords and knights, heirs to great houses, will be there. Just find one that isn’t a kiss arse or annoying, and I’ll be happy.”
She nodded obediently.
At her chambers, Jaehera read through her books about the great Houses of Westeros whose heirs are yet to be wed. She took a list of names of those who would be suitable. But as she skimmed the pages of the book, she would return to the page dedicated to House Targaryen, and the tip of her fingers would land on his name and his accomplishments.
Jaehaera wondered how her father would react if she told him Baelor would be a great match for her. An heir, a good knight and not a kiss-arse. But based on childhood stories, she could not guarantee he wouldn't annoy him.