Work Text:
Baela tightened her grip on Jace’s hand as the doors to the Great Hall swung open. They were not late- Jace would never allow them to be truly late- but they were perhaps fashionably on time. He had grumbled about it as they walked here, but he could not be too upset at the reason. Besides, they wouldn’t be quite so late if he hadn’t insisted on putting clothes on while she was trying to take them off , so he was partly to blame.
Still, most everyone was already there, and so when the doors opened and the herald announced them, all eyes turned towards them. She hasn’t spent much time in the royal court. Her childhood was spent in Pentos, or on Dragonstone and Driftmark. Sitting at her grandmother’s side while she held court in her grandfather’s absence felt like child’s play compared to the sheer size of the court in King’s Landing.
It didn’t make her nervous per se- she had fought on dragonback during the war, rained fire and blood on the Usurper and his allies in the name of her Queen. It's hard to be nervous about a feast after that.
But besides their rushed wedding, Queen Rhaenyra had made sure to sequester them safely on Dragonstone since the war’s end. Jace was ever displeased by it. She knew he longed to be by his mother’s side as her heir, not tucked away on a lonely rock across the bay but it was by the Queen’s orders, who when it came to her children- especially her eldest- was more often a mother than a queen.
Not a bad thing, Baela thought. Although she understood her husband’s need to prove himself. He has proved himself, twice over and then some, in the North and the Vale, at the Gullet and the Twins, and everywhere else he has ever been. But none of that would ever soothe his need. She understood that too.
He led the way into the hall confidently, and the crowd parted for them as they made their way to where the Queen sat. They bowed to the Queen and then the Prince-consort.
“You’re rather late,” Rhaenyra said as they rose.
Jace blushed, but Baela just smirked. Her step-mother and father have been late to many feasts for most likely the same reason, so she refused to be ashamed.
“Our apologies, Your Grace,” Baela said, grinning in a rather unladylike way, “something needed our attention.” At her words, Jace turned a deeper shade of red which would have been impressive if she didn’t know exactly how much redder he could get. Rhaenyra smiled knowingly and her father laughed.
Rhaenyra beckoned the two of them to their seats, Jace on her right and Baela next to him. Jace tried to apologize again for being late but Rhaenyra just waved him off then stood up, cup in hand.
“It has been one year since the occupation of King’s Landing by the Usurper and his forces,” Rhaenyra said, “One year since I took my rightful place on the Iron Throne, where my father and grandfathers have sat since Aegon the Conqueror united the Seven Kingdoms.” she gazed around the room at the lords and ladies gathered in the room. “Tonight we celebrate our victory, thanks to the leal service of the lords of the realm.” It was interesting to see which lords were cowed by her words, ashamed of their disloyalty during the war and grateful for the Queen’s mercy and those that should be cowed yet weren’t. “The Crown thanks you. Tonight, eat, drink, and make merry!”
Jace stood up then. “To Queen Rhaenyra!” he called, “May her reign be long and prosperous!”
“To Queen Rhaenyra!” the hall echoed.
“I told you all would be well,” Baela remarked when Jace had sat down.
“They were waiting for us.”
“Barely.”
“I’d rather not make a habit of it,” he said.
“Then we won’t. But it worked well for us tonight.” she grabbed his hand under the table, “It is our first time at court as husband and wife, a little bit of spectacle seems deserved.”
“I suppose,” he conceded.
Food had been brought out by now, and Baela busied herself with it and her sister, who was on her other side, while Jace fell into conversation with his mother.
“Good-daughter,” Rhaenyra called. Baela looked up to see that both Rhaenyra and Jace were looking at her. “I hope everything has been well at Dragonstone.”
“It has, Your Grace.” Baela answered. “It’s quiet. Peaceful.”
“That’s hard to imagine,” Rhaenyra said, a little wistful, “You were all always so loud.”
Jace laughed. “We were.”
Dragonstone was rarely quiet when they were younger. Seven children with five young dragons between them made for a chaotic combination. And then of course, during the war, Dragonstone was quiet. Too quiet. Viserys, Aegon, Joffrey and Rhaena were sent away, Luke was dead and Jace and Baela were too entrenched in the war to find any of the joy they used to.
It had been hard when they first moved there after the wedding to walk the foreboding stone hallways of Dragonstone as their home and not a reminder of a childhood violently killed, or a specter of what is lost. To begin anew and see it as someplace that could be their own to live in and have their own children who will play in the courtyard and climb to the dragonmont and run through the halls just like they did. She was getting better at it.
“It will be loud once again, I’m sure.” Rhaenyra looked at Baela, “Perhaps soon?”
Baela did her best to not visibly react at the implication. She was not prepared for the topic to come up, although it felt obvious now that of course it would. It’s practically the only thing people care about. Jace however, tensed rather obviously, and Baela prayed Rhaenyra didn’t notice. She really didn’t want to answer any questions.
“Perhaps.” she replied with a strained smile.
Rhaenyra placed her hand on top of Baela’s. “Do not worry about it, daughter. All will be well.” Just then a lord came up to the Queen, stealing her attention from them.
Rhaenyra obviously assumed they were having trouble conceiving a babe when in fact it was the opposite. She was with child. Currently. They had found out from the maester right before they left for King’s Landing. Just over a moon along, he assumed, although it was hard to tell at this point. She shouldn’t have been so surprised by the news, considering her and Jace performed their duty enthusiastically and often, with no effort to avoid a babe, but she was.
Of course she had thought about children. She was always going to have children. It was a wife’s duty, a Queen’s duty, to provide heirs and spares. But she also had thought about sweet babes with brown or silver curls, or little ones perched on Jace’s lap as he worked. Daughters and sons for them to teach to dragon ride, to sing valyrian lullabies to. No, it wasn’t motherhood she was scared of, it was the birthing bed.
Her own mother had died during childbirth. Laena Velaryon had ridden Vhagar, ran off with Daemon Targaryen to murder her betrothed then marry, had almost been Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, yet it was then, during her labors, that the Stranger had come for her.
Rhaenyra had birthed five healthy sons yet her sixth babe had nearly killed her. Alysanne had thirteen children but only nine of them lived to adulthood. Not to mention Jace’s own grandmother, Aemma Arryn, had been butchered by her husband for the son in her womb. Jace would never- he’d gut himself before intentionally harming her- but it didn’t change the fact that it had happened .
The birthing bed was dangerous, and though Baela was well-used to danger, this one, she couldn’t burn away or stab or even fight at all. There was nothing to do but simply pray. And she had never been good at that.
Despite her fears, she couldn’t help but be happy to be with child. Jace’s child. He had been pleased when she told him if a little anxious. He would be an amazing father, she couldn’t help but think. She could picture him well with their babe in his arms- it was an attractive image.
The musicians striked up a lively tune, and Jace stood from his chair and held out his hand to her, his invitation clear. She accepted his hand and he led them into the center of the room.
“Thank you for not telling your mother,” she murmured as Jace placed one of his hands on her waist and began to lead her in the dance. He understood what she was talking about immediately.
“Of course not,” he said, “It wasn’t my place.” Surely she had the best husband in the seven kingdoms, she couldn’t help but think. Because they both knew that, of course, it was his place. He could tell anyone he liked that his lady wife was with child. She hadn’t asked him not to, and even then he had no obligation to do as she asked.
“I just want to wait a little longer.” Obviously, it couldn’t be kept secret forever but if it could remain just theirs for a little while longer. The babe would be heir to the Iron Throne, would be for the kingdom, but right now, the only ones who knew of them was her and Jace. She could be forgiven for wanting to keep it that way.
“However long you want,” Jace promised. She spun underneath his arm and he pulled her back towards him as the dance continued.
She rolled her eyes, “Don’t be unrealistic.”
“We could hide away on Dragonstone, swear the servants to secrecy if you like.”
“And what of your mother, of the kingdom?” She would have never thought that she would be convincing Jacaerys of duty.
To his credit, he didn’t hesitate, “They could wait.”
She smiled, a little sad. She could never ask that of him, and he could never stand it. He’d do it if she asked, that she believed, but he’d hate it. The dance picked up, such that they couldn’t talk any more, just whirl across the floor in a graceful blur of Targaryen red and black.
The dance ended with them pressed together, chests flush. Jace’s cheeks were red from exertion, and his hair had gotten a little wild but his eyes were the warm brown Baela had come to love so much.
“Just give me a moon or two.” She said, as they stood there, breathing, even though if they didn’t move soon they would get stuck in the next dance.
To her complete and utter surprise, he kissed her then. A surprise, because she could barely get him to kiss her in front of servants, let alone the entire court, but she wasn’t complaining about this newfound confidence. It was a chaste kiss all things considered but she could feel the love behind it.
“ Avy jorrāelan ,” he whispered after breaking the kiss. I love you . It wasn’t the first time he had said it but she cherished it each time.
“ Avy jorrāelan ,” she said back. His face was so close it was hard to resist the temptation to kiss him again but she somehow managed. They left the floor and returned to their seats just before the next dance started.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. They danced once more, and at least one toast was made in Jace’s honor- maybe one for her too- she couldn’t remember. Jace entertained several lords throughout the night, charming them like the heir he was. He was good at that.
Maybe she could ask to stay in King’s Landing for the babe. She loved Dragonstone, truly, but Jace would enjoy the opportunity to be with his mother, to do his duties as heir properly. It wouldn’t be much of a sacrifice for herself.
She also found herself in the company of several ladies that evening, whose names she could not remember. She certainly did not do as good a job as Jace at entertaining them but Rhaena was always better at things like that.
By the time they retired to their chambers it was well into the night with not much else to do but sleep.
She climbed into their bed and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow, as sleep began to creep over both of them.
“Maybe,” she said quietly, “the Queen would let us stay in King’s Landing until the babe is born. She would most likely allow you on the Small Council in the meantime.”
“Mmmm,” Jace hummed sleepily. She could feel the vibrations rumble through his chest. “Thank you, ābrazȳrys.” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “But we will be heading back to Dragonstone by the end of the week. My mother has asked that Joffrey come with us.”
She shifted so that she could see his face. She had not expected him to decline her offer nor the last sentence, knowing the Queen as she does. “I’m surprised she is letting any of the little ones out of her sight.”
Jace huffed a laugh. “She seemed not entirely happy about it. Said that Joffrey hasn’t taken well to the Red Keep and perhaps he would enjoy his childhood home more.”
“There goes our peace,” she joked.
Jace smiled, “It would’ve been gone soon enough.” Baela hummed in agreement. “She also suggested that I come to King's Landing more often, join her for a few Small Council meetings.”
Ah. That was it. It wasn’t a far flight from Dragonstone to King’s Landing, reasonable for Jace to make every moon or so. If Joffrey missed his mother- or his mother missed him- he could come back and visit with him. A nice compromise.
“It will be nice to have Joffrey around,” Baela said.
“It will,” Jace agreed.
They fell into a comfortable silence as his breaths began to slow and she felt him fall asleep. She followed soon after.