Chapter Text
Jace woke to a distant voice. The words were hard to make out and slipped through his mind like water. More concerning was the lack of Baela in bed, but then he heard her voice as well, responding to the other person. There was something in the back of his mind that told him he needed to get up, that he had somewhere to be but he couldn’t remember what. Then Baela came back to bed and he didn’t care about that was any more. She curled around him again, her fingers brushing gently through his hair.
“Go back to sleep,” Baela commanded and he listened to her without another thought.
When he woke up again– for real this time– Baela wasn’t in bed. She wasn’t gone though, as when he sat up he saw that she was sitting at the table in their chambers, eating. He figured it was about midmorning, much later than he usually woke up.
The fact that Baela was eating meant that she had felt well this morning which pleased him. He didn’t like it when Baela didn’t feel well. He joined her at the table, kissing her cheek in greeting.
“What happened with Joffrey yesterday?” she asked as soon as he sat down. “Nobody will tell me anything but supposedly the keep is all aflutter about it.”
He thought of Joffrey, of the words the boy in the yard had said. He supposed that would be quite the scandal these days. “He got into a fight,”Jace said. “A boy in the yard called him a bastard.” Baela’s eyes widened. “I- I told him the truth. I couldn’t–” he couldn’t what? Lie to him? Pretend? Had he even made anything better for Joffrey or had he just burdened him with something he was too young to truly understand?
Baela, who knew him without any words, didn’t have to ask what he was going to say. “It had to be done eventually,” she said gently. “The longer he was left to wonder, the worse it would be.”
“You told me it was time,” he admitted. She told him he should do it soon and he couldn’t help but wonder if yesterday would have gone differently if he had.
“I don’t make a habit of being wrong do I?” Baela grinned. Jace had the urge to question. Then her face became serious again. “Do you know what the Queen did?”
Jace shook his head. “I took Joffrey to the maester. And when I saw her she didn’t say, she–” he stopped. “I was supposed to have breakfast with her,” he realized in a panic. It was well past the time he would have been expected and he had just slept right through it. He didn’t even know what she wanted to talk about–
“‘Relax,” Baela said, interrupting his spiral. “It has been rescheduled for lunch.”
Jace blinked. “Lunch?”
Baela shrugged. “You were still asleep when the servant came for you. I told her to ask the Queen if she would be amenable to a time change.”
“You should have woken me.”
“You rarely sleep much past dawn, Jacaerys. If you were still asleep, then I was of the mind to let you be,” Baela said. Jace did not have an argument against that other than it’s the Queen. She doesn’t change her schedule for others, and certainly not because they’re sleeping . The last thing he needed to seem was lazy. “And if she is truly concerned tell her I had not wanted to relinquish you just yet. It is forgivable surely, given my state.” Baela rolled her eyes. “They are all so concerned about my state.”
The bitterness with which she said it startled him, just a little. “I’m sorry,” he said. He took her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. “I will speak with her.”
“Your mother isn’t that bad. It’s Grandmother. She- she sees this as an opportunity to make right her mistakes with my mother, but apparently the only thing she’d change is being more controlling,” Baela said, her frustration and upset clear on her face. Jace wrapped an arm around her and she leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder. “I ought not to concern myself with Joff and the training yard, it might stress the babe. I ought to come to Driftmark more, I ought to have her maester examine me, to be sure the babe is well.” Baela scoffed. “I understand now why my mother ran away to Pentos.”
Jace had never held many ill feelings towards Princess Rhaenys– she was well within her rights to not treat him and his brothers as her grandchildren– but to have the audacity to tell Baela what she ought to do. It would normally be laughable, Baela has never done things simply because she ought to and telling her so only made it worse. But it was clear that she was taking the words to heart which was unacceptable.
“Perhaps Princess Rhaenys should be reminded that my lady wife can do whatever she wants,” Jace said. He placed his hand over her stomach and felt that familiar thrill in his chest at the slight swell of it. “Especially when she is with child.”
Baela smiled. “I did tell her so. I suppose we’ll see if she actually listens.” Baela gave him a suggestive look. “Or, now that we have told people about the babe, we can go back to Dragonstone and not come back until the babe can tell Grandmother off herself.”
Jace only managed to understand one part of that sentence. “Herself?” he repeated. “A girl?”
“She feels like a girl,” Baela reasoned. He couldn’t help the giddy smile that grew on his face.
“Well I shan’t argue with the expert,” he beamed. And then just because he could he said, “Our daughter .”
Baela giggled. “I missed you last night. Perhaps you could make it up to me?” Jace knew well that tone of voice. It was easy to put away any thoughts of his mother or the day before when Baela had climbed into his lap and slotted her mouth against his, nipping at his lip. Judging by her mood, he wouldn’t have many thoughts soon anyway.
***
By the time he was to leave for lunch, he did feel more settled. Baela had always had that effect on him, even well before their marriage. But still he couldn’t quite ignore the pit in his stomach. Not knowing what it was his mother wanted to discuss meant his mind was free to run wild with worries, even ones he knew were ridiculous like that yesterday had convinced her to reconsider him being her heir. He did not need anyone to tell him that one was was unrealistic and impractical.
He was very thankful however that his mother didn’t make him wait much longer. Almost as soon as he had sat down, she said: “Ser Brant is currently sitting in the black cells for treason.” Jace did his best not to let his surprise show on his face. That was more extreme than he had thought she would do, but it did make sense. “My instinct is to feed him to Syrax, but I’m aware that’s not necessarily the right move. So I thought to ask you.”
Oh. This was a test then. “What did the Lady Hand suggest?” he asked. Chances are she had already asked Princess Rhaenys and was simply just asking him to see what he would do.
“I haven’t had spoken to Rhaenys about this yet. Daemon, of course has offered Caraxes for the task as well.”
She truly wanted his counsel it seemed. Punishing the knight harshly might be seen as giving credence to the rumors but doing nothing would not stop them either. You cannot disprove true rumors, his mind whispered. He ignored it. So soon after the war, his mother could not afford to look weak or spineless, but neither could she seem overly cruel. He thought of what Joffrey reported of Ser Brant’s words. All of it was treason, just some of it more explicit than others. “He should lose his tongue, for speaking treason against the Crown. And if he refuses to beg forgiveness, then he should lose his head.” Jace said after a minute.
His mother considered it. “That is a sound suggestion, Jacaerys.” She smiled proudly, and warmth filled him. “As for the squire, he is being taken from Ser Brant’s care and being sent from court. It is clear where he got those ideas from and it’s not his fault he was placed in such a vile man’s care.” His mother sighed. “The real concern though, is that it happened at all. I did not expect such blatant disrespect in my keep.”
A lump formed in Jace’s throat. “People will talk,” he said. “They always have. Especially when what they’re talking about is right in front of them.”
His mother narrowed her eyes. “Then I shall remove their tongues,” she said firmly.
He got that feeling he always did talking to his mother, like she didn’t see any of it at all and he was crazy for noticing it. “You cannot.”
“I will not be my father and allow the vipers to tear at mine own family while I sit and do nothing,” she hissed. “I refuse.”
She wasn’t understanding. She wasn’t understanding. “They know, Mother,” he said desperately. “They look at me and they can see plainly what I am. It is all they see.” Shameful tears burned in his eyes and he wanted them to go away. For once his mother was looking at him like she saw it too and all the sudden he wanted it to stop.
She stood abruptly, her chair screeching from the force of it and Jace froze. She walked around the table until she was facing him and then she gently cupped his face in her hands. “What I see, is my perfect firstborn son–” Jace shook his head, because that wasn’t true, he wasn’t– “and my heir.”
“No, no, no,” he said. Tears were pouring down his face and his nose was running, and it was disgusting but still his mother held him. “I’m not.” Because that was the point. He was born imperfect. The moment his hair was dark and his eyes were brown, he would spend the rest of his life making up for it, fixing it. Surely she knew that. She had born him this way. She had to know it better than anyone.
“You are,” his mother repeated insistently . “You are a Targaryen–”
“I’m a bastard,” Jace corrected. His mother flinched. He couldn’t tell you what he meant to do in that moment but his legs gave out as soon as he moved and he fell to his knees at his mother’s feet which was alright. That was where one was supposed to be before their Queen. “I have– I have tried to pretend, I have tried to ignore, I have tried to lie, but– but nothing changes the truth of it.” He clutched at her skirts and sobbed like a child. He resisted the urge to press his face to them. He would only ruin the fine fabric with his snot and tears.
His mother made a wounded sound. “Jacaerys–”
“Did you think I would be this way?” he begged her. “Did it cross your mind that I would be born so unworthy– so dirty ?”
Abruptly, she dropped to her knees, her face horrified, and pulled him into her like he wasn’t a man-grown of eight and ten years. He was shaking and gasping for air in an ugly and desperate way but his mother didn’t seem to mind. It felt like being split open, like parts of him that were never supposed to be seen were being torn out and exposed to the wind.
“I was so scared when you were born,” his mother said tearfully, “but I loved you so much. I didn’t know I could love someone as much as I loved you the first time you were laid in my arms.”
“Then why did you curse me like this?” he demanded. “Did you not think what it would be like?”
“I–” his mother hesitated. Her watery eyes didn’t quite meet his. “I was so lonely, and I loved your– your sire. I thought I could protect you.”
“I didn’t need to be protected.” He needed to be trueborn, he needed to be worthy, to be the heir she deserved. That would’ve been protection enough.
Luke had needed protection but Jace had failed in that as much as his mother had.
“You did,” his mother said, a mournful tone to her voice. He tried to pull away but she didn’t let him. “You did, Jace.” She looked him in the eyes, like she was searching for something, long enough that he felt the urge squirm beneath her gaze. “I have– I have failed you. In more ways than I realized.”
“You didn’t–”
“I did,” his mother interrupted. “It has only ever been you and your brothers that have suffered for my actions.” Jace didn’t know what to say. He felt almost like he couldn’t breathe, a little dizzy and lightheaded. “It is your succession they question, your lives they threaten–”
“Stop,” Jace pleaded. “Please stop.”
“–but it is I who strayed from my marriage.”
“You did not have a choice,” he protested weakly. It sounded wrong even to his ears. “You needed heirs and Father couldn’t–” She placed a gentle hand on his cheek and looked at him with such sad eyes his voice died off.
“My sweet boy,” she whispered. “The only person who did not have a choice was you. You have always been blameless.”
Jace could do nothing but give in. He let himself go limp, all the tension releasing from him like a puppet with it’s strings cut. His forehead fell to her shoulder and she rubbed a comforting hand over his back. He may have been crying. He had cried so much these past two days it was a wonder he still could. “I only ever wanted to be good,” he said wetly. “I wanted to be worthy of–” his name, his dragon, his throne– “everything.”
“You have always been worthy,” his mother insisted. “I could not ask for a better heir. Or a better son.”
“If I had silver hair–”
“You do not,” she said firmly. Then softer: “I would change so many things if I could, but not you. Never. I always did love how much you and your brothers looked like him.”
Jace flinched. Him. Ser Harwin.
“Why couldn’t you have just told me when I asked?” Jace blurted out. The question was one he could not shake. And if it had the added benefit of not having to talk about Ser Harwin, well that only helped. “I would’ve understood. I would’ve kept it a secret. I swear.”
His mother’s face twisted. “I thought– I thought telling you would hurt you.”
“Not knowing hurt me. I thought I was crazy,” he said. He had been suffocating from it. The weight of everything he had been so sure of, of his guilt, his grief, and his sorrow had filled him up until that was all there was. No room left to breathe, or even be. Had it ever gone away? It must have at some point. Or maybe he had just gotten bigger.
His mother sighed. “Perhaps I should speak to Joffrey. After yesterday.”
Jace shook his head. “I already spoke to him. He knows.”
Her face went through a series of emotions, so quick Jace could not tell what they were before it settled on a faint smile. “You will have to tell me how Dragonstone has been with him. Aegon was very upset when I told him he could not go as well.”
“He could,” Jace pointed out. “We wouldn’t mind.”
“I will not have all my children living on Dragonstone without me,” she said. “Sometimes I think they like you more than me.”
“It’s just the novelty,” Jace assures her. “It will go away.” And maybe because the Red Keep is horrid. He had to admit Baela’s plan of leaving and not coming back seemed very attractive although fantastical since they will have to come back soon when the babe is announced to the realm.
He suddenly realized that he was still being held by his mother, on the floor and his cheeks colored with embarrassment. But when he went to pull away from her she stopped him. “Jacaerys,” she said, then paused as if unsure of what to say. “I love you so very much. I hope you know that.”
Jace’s chest felt tight. He nodded. He did know that. He stood up and this time she let him. He helped her up as well and then said: “I ought to go…” he gestured generally towards the door.
“Yes, yes. Go ahead,” his mother dismissed him. He kissed her cheek and left, unsure where to go. He went back to their chambers but Baela wasn’t there. He was quietly grateful, there was so much in his head, he just wanted to sit and think. His mother had been so insistent about so many things, yet it was hard to believe they were true. But a part of him wanted to believe her. That maybe he hadn’t been at fault for so many things. He didn’t know and that was the worst part.
He sat in their chambers long enough that Baela came back. She immediately tucked herself into his arms and sighed tiredly. She seemed tired. He smoothed a hand over her curls and pressed a kiss to her head.
“I want to go home,” she said.
Home, meaning Dragonstone. “Tomorrow morning,” he promised. “Clearly the keep is not good for the health of my wife.”
She scowled. “The keep is not good for the health of anyone. You cannot breathe here.”
He did not like to see her so upset. “Let’s go to bed, ābrazȳrys.”
“I do not want to,” she said, clearly taking the wrong meaning from his words. But it spoke to how she felt, that she refused.
“I meant to sleep,” he clarified.
“Oh.” Baela yawned. “Yes then.”
He scooped her up and carried her the seven steps to the bed. She did not protest that either. She seemed half asleep when he laid her on the bed, although she cooperated as he removed her dress, moving and wiggling when necessary.
When she was down to just her shift, he quickly changed into a nightshirt and joined her in bed. He tucked her into his arms once again and almost as soon as he closed his eyes, he was asleep.