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The morning had started calm and peaceful, with Jace staying tucked into her side even once the sun had long since risen. Baela liked these mornings best, the ones where Jace kept his hand over her stomach as if he waited long enough he’d feel a babe that hadn’t even quickened and won’t for several moons yet. And If her stomach had started to swell, it was imperceptible, and so she wasn’t exactly sure why he liked to place his hand there so much, but she wouldn’t stop him.
Of course, all things had to end, and Jace eventually rose to start his day, meaning Baela should too. She didn’t though. She laid on the bed, watching Jace as he dressed, appreciating many things. Her husband for one. She idly wondered if she could convince him to come back to bed and do more than just lay with her. Unfortunately, there was a purpose to his movements that told her he actually had something to do today, and would not be swayed, even by her.
Baela was also appreciating the fact that she hadn't felt sick this morning, unlike the last few weeks. It was a nice change, even if it was just for this morning. She almost wished she was one of those women who bore pregnancy with grace and dignity, but she wasn’t. She felt tired and ill most of the time and it made her wretched. Jace assured her that he did not mind, although surely he would mind it more when she was both wretched and fat with child. Either way, she did not wish to linger on it on such a pleasant morning when she was feeling so well.
“I have a favor to ask of you.” Jace said when he had finished dressing. As she had not moved from their bed, he sat down next to her. “I promised to take Joffrey down to the beach today, but an issue at the port came up, and I need to go deal with it.”
“What issue?” Baela asked. She couldn’t think of an issue that would require Jace himself to go. Dragonstone was a small island with only a few fishing towns and while it had always been the heir’s seat, it wasn’t uncommon for the castle to have no permanent residents and as such it did not require that much keeping. Certainly not enough to justify how much work Jace did, beyond his own peculiar taste for duty.
She suspected that that was what this was. There was no issue that truly required Jace’s presence but he was going anyway. It was however interesting that he was breaking his promise to Joffrey. Only something truly important would cause him to do so.
“Nothing to worry about,” Jace said dismissively, “But would you take Joffrey to the beach for me?”
Baela frowned, “Yes, but-”
“Thank you ābrazȳrys. I will be back well before supper.” Jace kissed her cheek then practically ran out of their room.
“You’re acting odd, Jacaerys!” she called as he left but he didn’t seem to hear her. When the door had swung shut behind him, Baela sighed. She was confused by Jace’s odd behavior, but not admittedly not concerned.
He did not seem stressed or upset, so she was inclined to believe him that it was nothing to worry about. There was of course the idea that he was finding company with a whore or a mistress, but Baela would struggle to believe that even if she saw it with her own eyes. It felt like an insult to Jace to even consider it. No, if she could trust anything about him, it was that he would rather geld himself than dishonor her so.
Her morning was much less pleasant without her husband but Baela got out of bed and began to ready herself for the day. She should break her fast with Joffrey, and tell him that he will be taking his trip to the beach with her and not Jace. She could only hope that Joffrey didn’t throw too much of a fit about it. All of their brothers thought of Jace as if he hung the stars in the sky. She was aware that she was not quite the same.
In the moon that Joffrey had been with them, he’d been doing well. He usually spent his time with one of them if he wasn’t in lessons- more often Jace since he found Jace’s duties much more interesting- but they ate dinner together every night and often broke their fast together. Jace had also taken over his training in the yard, something that pleased both of them greatly. Her father had always taken great pride in being the one to teach his children the sword, instead of having some random knight sworn to him teach them. Baela was sure Jace took pride in the same thing, and although he may not admit it, liked the idea of being the one to teach his brother instead of her father.
Joffrey just enjoyed the attention from his older brother.
When she eventually met him in her solar, the first thing Joffrey asked was, “Where’s Jace?”
“He had some business in town to attend to. It came up rather suddenly, so he left earlier this morning,” Baela explained.
Joffrey’s face fell. “Oh.” He didn’t say anything else, just sat on the chair that had been set out for him and began eating his food.
He didn’t mention the promise Jace had made at all, just ate his meal with quiet acceptance which Baela found disconcerting. While Joffrey was certainly not the most dramatic of her brothers- that title went firmly to Viserys- he was still only seven and she wouldn’t have begrudged him a tantrum. Sometimes she wished she could still throw one when things went wrong too.
“Jace told me that he had made plans with you to go to the beach today,” Baela said, “He’s very sorry that he can’t make it, but I thought maybe I could take you instead?”
Joffrey considered it. “We were going to fish,” he said matter of factly.
“I know how to fish,” Baela informed him. In fact it had been Jace who taught her, not long after they moved to Dragonstone. Luke had found out that Rhaena didn’t know how to fish and thought it unfair since she was a Velaryon as well. Baela, never one to be left out, insisted that she come too and learn which meant that Jace came as well. Luke was… not good at fishing then, and Jace was only slightly better so it wasn’t a particularly informative lesson. They had caught no fish and all ended up very wet and in quite a bit of trouble with their parents for not taking any guards with them. She couldn’t help but smile at the memory.
“Okay!” Joffrey said. He went back to eating, much happier now that the matter was clearly settled.
***
Baela walked along the beach with Joffrey skipping along beside her. He would sometimes run ahead to grab a pretty shell or the occasional piece of dragonglass, then run back to give it to her. She was running out of the ability to hold all of them as their walk had been rather lengthy already and was close to secretly handing them to the household guard they took with them to hold for her. Joffrey insisted that he and Jace always went to the same place and it was the best place for fishing and he knew where it was and they were definitely going the right way. Whether any of that was true, Baela didn’t care. She could see the castle so she figured they could get back to it and worst comes to worst, she could always call Moondancer to come get them.
When he came back next with a pretty light blue shell, she accepted his offering dutifully then took his hand, keeping him to her side. “Walk with me,” she said, “I believe I have enough shells for every purpose I could possibly need.”
Joffrey fell in stride with her with only a slight pout. “You should make a necklace with them,” he suggested.
“Perhaps I will,” Baela agreed. Her mother had a necklace with a seashell on it, she remembered playing with it when she was younger and her mother telling her to be careful as to not break it. She didn’t have the largest penchant for jewelry, but she could commission one like her mother’s, if only just to have, plus Joffrey would be pleased to see his shells put to use. “Do you go to this place to fish with Jace often?” Baela questioned.
Joffrey nodded. “Only once since I moved here but more before. He said that our father always took him and Luke fishing and it wasn’t fair that I shouldn’t get that just because he’s dead.”
Of course he did, Baela couldn’t help but think. Of course he took his younger brothers fishing in place of their father. What a terribly Jace thing to do.
Sometimes she felt like she knew everything that was possible to know about her husband. And sure, she knew the ugly things, the things he could never bear to say aloud or tell another. She knew his anger and his grief and his love and everything else he kept inside of him. She has known him for so long, and knew him so well, it was easy to forget that there were still things she hadn’t been and wasn’t privy to. Even something as small as where he took his brothers to fish.
Would he take their child there and teach them how to fish? Probably, if they were still living at Dragonstone.
They will have to move back to King’s Landing eventually, the only question was when and why. There was an obvious reason- if Rhaenyra died- although that shouldn’t happen anytime soon, as Rhaenyra was still relatively young and healthy. There was of course the more likely reason that Rhaenyra would make Jace her Hand one day. Princess Rhaenys held the position currently, but Baela was certain that she would resign in the coming years and when she did, Rhaenyra would give the position to Jace
Already Rhaenyra was giving him more duties at court, with his visits to King’s Landing. Dragonstone was an impractical seat for the heir, with it being so isolated, and had little other merit besides being the Targaryen’s ancestral home. But the peace of it was more than nice- she was beyond thankful for it. Dragonstone had lots of memories for all of them, but this? Walking on the rocky beach with Joffrey, the smell of the sea and the sulfur and brimstone that always hung in the air? It felt like home, like family.
***
It didn’t take them much longer to reach the fishing spot- Joffrey did actually know the way. It was a large slab of stone that reached all the way out to the sea. The waves splashed against it, surprisingly gentle compared to how they usually were around the island.
As they set up, Baela realized that perhaps she did not remember how to fish as well as she thought. It had been a while, in her defense. Joffrey had to help her, which he seemed to take quite a lot of pride and joy in, so she let him put the bait on her hook and show her how to cast it. She could’ve done them herself- albeit with a bit more struggle- but it wasn’t hard to indulge him.
Baela also realized that she had forgotten how boring fishing was. Baela had turned down any invitations to go fishing with the boys after the fourth time for exactly that reason. It was incredibly boring. There was nothing to do except sit there and wait. She had gone with just Jace a few times and he explained that all you were really supposed to do is talk, which if she was with Jace had been just fine by her. It was still kind of boring though.
Luckily, Joffrey was feeling chatty today, and didn’t leave room for Baela to answer anything he said, but he didn’t seem bothered by it- having an audience appeared to be enough. Baela listened absentmindedly, more just watching the ocean and the waves breaking. The occasional ship passed, usually so far out you could barely see it, and Baela would track it across the horizon until it disappeared.
“Where do you think that one's going?” Joffrey asks as another ship passes, close enough that Baela could see the Velaryon colors on it.
Baela startled a little at the question, she really hadn’t been paying attention. She tilted her head as she considered it. “Driftmark, I’d guess,” Baela said.
Joffrey’s eyes widened. “How can you tell?”
“Well Driftmark is that way,” Baela pointed to the west, “And it’s flying Velaryon colors, so I’d imagine it’s going home.”
“I’ve only been to Driftmark a few times even though I’m a Velaryon.” Joffrey said bluntly, “I’ve spent most of my life on Dragonstone, doesn’t it make more sense for me to be a Targaryen?”
Baela blinked. This was not a conversation she was prepared to have. “You are a Targaryen. But your name is Velaryon because of your father, Ser Laenor.”
“But I never knew Ser Laenor. My mother’s a Targaryen, I know her,” he argued.
“Your name comes from your father’s house,” she said simply. Names could be a complicated business.
He frowned. “But I don’t want to be a Velaryon. Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys wouldn’t mind if I was a Targaryen surely. They already changed the suc- succession.” Joffrey said, stumbling over the word succession. He was starting to sound upset and Baela silently cursed her grandparents for the mess they had made.
“I- That wasn’t because of you, Joff,” Baela said unconvincingly. It wasn’t a lie, not really, although Joffrey didn’t look like he believed her. She knew that while her grandfather had always doted upon Luke, he hadn’t given Jace nearly as much consideration. But he hadn’t visibly ignored and despised him like her grandmother had, who hadn’t had an ounce of care for either Jace or Luke. However her grandfather had been away at sea for most of Joffrey’s life, and predictably Rhaenys hadn’t talked to him unless she had to. So she’s not surprised that he didn’t particularly Velaryon.
After the war, her Grandmother had approached Baela, to ask- no tell her that Grandfather intended to make her his heir. To inherit the Driftwood throne after his death.
Baela had just barely refrained from laughing in her face.
She had insisted to Baela that she should be the Lady of Driftmark for years, but Baela had always been unsure. Beyond what it would mean politically, for Baela to be heir instead of Luke, Baela was not a Velaryon. She was her father’s daughter through and through. Any salt in her blood was far outweighed by the fire. Perhaps in another life, she could find purpose and contentment in Driftmark- but not this one. She’d been ignored in the past when she tried to express that though.
Baela had thought that maybe after the war her grandmother would put it to rest, if only to not anger the Queen but it seemed not.
“Do you not want to be the Lady of Driftmark?” Grandmother had asked.
“I will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.” Baela said plainly.
“You could be both. You wouldn’t have to rely on your husband for power.”
Baela shook her head. “If I cannot rely on Jace, then I can rely on no one.”
Grandmother turned soft and pitying. “It is easy to think such things when you are young and in love, but think in twenty, thirty years. Men are fickle.”
The condescension rankled Baela. Maybe your husband is fickle, but mine is not , she thought. She refrained from saying it though. “Do not speak of my husband as if you know him. You do not,” she said sharply instead. Her grandmother pursed her lips, as if she had a great many things she wanted to say about Jace but thankfully for both of them did not.
At Baela’s advice, they had named Rhaena heir to Driftmark, in memory of Prince Lucerys, they had said. Rhaena was pleased by it, and so Baela was too. The Queen had raged when she found out, and if Jace had been more inclined to raging, perhaps he would have too. But he had sent congratulations to Rhaena, and not said much else. He knew what Rhaenyra did not want to admit, that a lord has the right to name his heir as he chooses, and not even the Queen can change that.
That night however, he admitted quietly that perhaps it was a good thing. Driftmark’s succession has brought nothing but strife to him and his brothers, and therefore it was good that it was unquestionably settled, once and for all.
Grandmother had finally gotten her way and Baela would not have Joffrey believing it was due to some fault of his.
“Joffrey,” Baela insisted. He looked up at her, his brown eyes watery. “It was not because of you. It was nothing but politics. They can be terribly impersonal.”
“Mother wouldn’t tell me why,” Joffrey said sulkily, “And you won’t either.”
Baela did not know what to say. There would be a time and place to tell Joffrey of his true father, but this was neither, nor was she the right person to tell him. But he also deserved to know why he was disinherited in the first place. He would come to his own conclusions otherwise.
“Princess Rhaenys has always believed that my mother should’ve been Heir to Driftmark rather than your father, since she was older.” Baela said eventually, “She has been trying to convince Lord Corlys of it for a while.”She couldn’t tell if Joffrey truly believed her, but there wasn’t much to be done if he didn't.
It wasn’t untrue, Grandmother had said the same to her multiple times, most memorably the night Baela had found her grandmother rather deep in her cups and crying for her children. She had said that her mother always should have been their heir, and perhaps if she was she wouldn’t have run away with her father and that then maybe she would still be alive. She had taken Baela by the arms and told her that she must rule Driftmark in her mother’s honor.
Baela had been a little scared of her grandmother at that moment, but she was more shook by seeing her usually stern and stoic grandmother so emotional. She had wanted to leave but felt she couldn’t just leave her grandmother in such a state. So she had sat with her for a while, until her grandmother’s lady’s maid came and sent Baela to bed after reassuring her that she would make sure her grandmother got to bed safely.
“Look Baela! There’s a fish!” Joffrey exclaimed suddenly, breaking Baela out of the memory. He was pointing out at the ocean and she followed his finger, assuming he meant that there was a fish at the end of one of their lines. He did not. Instead there was a dead fish floating in the water, smacking against the rocks with each wave. He ran up to the edge of the water and reached down to grab it before she could even yell at him to stop or at the very least not touch dead things.
He held up the dead fish proudly for her and all the sudden the smell of rotten fish hit her, and her stomach roiled. She had just enough time to think Oh shit before another wave of nausea hit her and she was vomiting onto the rocks.
Baela was not unused to being ill at this point, but this was perhaps the most violently ill she has ever been. Probably as some sort of divine retribution for the easy morning she had had.
She couldn’t tell you how long she retched, only that by the end of it her mouth and throat burned with the taste of stomach acid and she was dizzy and disoriented. When it seemed she wasn’t in danger of throwing up anymore, the household guard she’d brought helped her stand and walk back to the castle. Joffrey walked alongside her, gripping her skirt tightly as if to help her stand that way. They had to stop twice to let her vomit onto the rock and she swallowed back nausea several more times. After the second time, the knight offered to carry her. Baela refused- she was with child not an invalid- but she swore the walk back to the castle was longer than it was to leave it and almost reconsidered her answer.
A maester was sent for when they finally arrived and Baela was put in a room to curl miserably around a chamber pot while she waited for the sickness to pass. Joffrey attempted to stay with her but she could tell the smell bothered him and he began to look a little sick himself so she sent him from the room. They did not need both of them retching.
The maester came quickly but only confirmed what she already knew, that it was just her pregnancy, and there was nothing to do.
She hated being sick. When she was little there was an illness that had swept through the castle they were living in. Baela caught it, but Rhaena didn’t and she was confined to her bed for days, unable to keep anything down. Her mother had sat by her side the entire time, rubbing her back when she was sick and feeding her dry crackers and bread that were supposed to help her keep food down. And in the mornings when it was bad, Jace would hold her as she retched and ran his fingers through her hair as he kept her from getting sick in it.
Somehow, being alone made it so much worse. She was shaking and crying when she wasn’t vomiting and she wanted her husband and she wanted her mother but she had neither. Jace was at the port and probably wouldn’t be back until this evening, at the latest. And her mother was dead. She wasn’t sure why that fact ached so much more than usual, but she felt her mother’s absence as keenly as she had seven years ago. It came in a wave of grief that did nothing to help her already pathetic state.
She was so overwhelmed by it all she didn’t notice the door creaking open and Jace slipping through or the bed dipping beneath his weight. She didn’t notice him at all until he put his arm around her shoulder to pull her closer and she buried herself in his chest without another thought.
He held her while sobs wracked her body, rubbing a soothing hand between her shoulder blades, not stopping when her tears calmed to a slower rate and she was no longer gasping for breath in between sobs. Tearfully, she said “I have been an awful wife.”
Jace frowned. “Nonsense.” he said firmly, “How could you ever be anything less than perfect?” Many ways , she thought.
“I get sick all the time and it makes me ill-tempered, and wretched and you must deal with me- ” embarrassingly, she was crying again. She knows that if Jace had wanted a quiet obedient wife, who sat in his castle doing womanly things and not bothering him with her womanly issues, he could have found one. She knows that he wants her just as much as she wants him. But still, there is a voice in her head that tells her she’s too wild and strong-willed for anyone to want her. That she can ride a dragon, and wield a sword, but she cannot do what is actually expected of her.
“I don’t deal with you, Baela, that’s not what this is,” Jace assured her, “You are sick and ill-tempered because you are carrying my child- our child. And even if you were not, I wouldn’t mind.” He smiled,” It is my duty to take care of my wife, after all.”
Baela wiped uselessly at her eyes. “And it’s my duty to bear children with grace and dignity but I cannot seem to manage either of them.” she glanced at the chamber pot as the source of her shame, but Jace mistook her look and shifted it closer. The smell of vomit rose from it, acrid and sour, and she hurriedly pushed it away again. “There’s no need. You seem to have chased away my sickness,” she said. Her stomach had finally settled and she didn’t think herself in danger of being sick again.
“I’m glad I could be of use,” he said, then paused, thinking over what to say next. “I don’t care how you bear children,” he said eventually, “only that you are alive and well.”
“I know,” she said miserably. “But that is not what everyone else cares about.”
Jace pursed his lips, “People care about a great many things,” he said carefully, “that doesn’t mean they are important.” She supposed he would know that better than most. “Baela, you may be as sick and upset and ungraceful and undignified as you please. You are my wife, and you will be my queen one day. Nothing could change how I feel about you, and nothing ever will.”
Warmth filled her chest at the words and she couldn’t help but smile. “Quite the declaration, valzȳrys,” she teased.
His cheeks turned red and she laughed brightly. She got the urge to kiss him, but thought better of it as she was reminded by the taste of vomit that still lingered in her mouth
“I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean,” he mumbled.
“I know,” she said, and settled herself into his arms properly. She was tired, even though it couldn’t be much later than noon, and as she laid there, her head resting on his shoulder, she had a thought.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the port? Dealing with that issue?” she asked.
“The issue is settled,” Jace said, just a little too quickly.
“I don’t believe you.”
“... mostly settled,” he amended, “But don’t worry about it. It wasn’t anything important,” he reassured her.
Baela narrowed her eyes. The fact that he hasn’t told her what the issue actually was is suspicious. He was also acting unusually this morning, so forgive her if she didn’t quite believe that it wasn’t important. “It was important enough you canceled your plans with Joffrey.”
Jace paused to consider something. “I have something for you,” he said, having come to a decision. He reached to his belt and pulled free a dagger. Not just any dagger she realized as she looked at it, a valyrian steel one. The edge of it glinted in the light, showing off its deadly sharpness.
“It’s beautiful, Jace,” she said breathlessly as she took the dagger from him, “Did you get this down at the port?” she asked.
Jace nodded, “It’s what I was doing. A merchant was selling- where he got it from, I have no clue. But it’s real. I found it when I was down there last week, but the merchant was a cunt and wouldn’t sell it to me then. Said he needed to ‘clean it up for me’, and demanded that I come down in person in a week when he was ready.” Jace rolled his eyes, “He ruined all my plans for today.”
“Your plans?” Baela repeated mindlessly. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the dagger. There was a large red gemstone laid in the hilt and it glittered a thousand different ways when the light hit it just right and she was mesmerized.
“Yes,” he said. She looked up to see that he had flushed again. “I know it may be a little stupid, but we have been married for a year today. I had made plans to celebrate.”
There was a pout to his expression that she found incredibly endearing. “I don’t think it’s stupid,” Baela said, “What were your plans?”
Jace sighed, “Well I had thought maybe a walk on the beach in the morning, but I knew that Joffrey would never leave us alone for that, so I tried to bribe him to stay away. Somehow I ended up with plans to be on the beach with him this morning though.”
“Clearly we need to work on your negotiation skills.” she joked.
“Joffrey could’ve been worked around,” Jace protested, “it just… limited our possible activities.” A laugh burst out of Baela and he glared at her disapprovingly. She shut her mouth and gestured at him to continue. “I hadn’t had proper plans for midday, but then I had a dinner planned.”
“A dinner?” Baela asked confusedly. They always eat dinner together so she isn’t quite sure what the point is.
“A special dinner,” he explained, “I suppose we could still do that one, if you wanted? The kitchen has the orders for it.”
“That sounds lovely,” she agreed.
He beamed. “And you like the dagger?”
“Obviously,” she said, looking back at the dagger to admire it some more. “I can’t believe you just found it. From a random merchant.”
He grinned, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “Only the best for my wife- although I can’t promise anymore valyrian steel.”
“I didn’t think so.” She settled comfortably back against his chest, as she continued to gaze at her dagger, just feeling it rise in fall with his breath.
Jace shifted. “Would you like me to call you a bath?” he asked gingerly after a moment.
Baela raised her eyebrows. “Is that your way of telling me I smell?”
“No!” he protested, “I just-”
“I’m sure I got my sick on my dress somewhere,” she soothed, “a bath would be nice.” Now that he had pointed it out, she felt gross and dirty and the thought of sinking into a warm bath sounded divine.
Jace extracted himself from beneath her and stood, holding out a hand to help her up too. “Then I will call one,” he said.
“You should check on Joffrey too. I don't know what he’s been told but I don’t want him to worry,” she added.
Jace nodded, “I can do that as well.” he paused for a second, “I know you don’t want to tell anyone about the babe, but we may have to tell him soon.”
“I know,” she said, “We will have to tell him of other things soon as well.” she looked pointedly at Jace.
He looked away. “Not yet, perhaps,” he said.
She frowned. “Jacaerys. You cannot think of not telling him.”
“I’m not. But he’s so young, even just a few years more-”
“He’s asking questions,” she said bluntly, “About Driftmark, about your father. He notices things.”
“I know.” he said tiredly, “Believe me, I know. But it’s not an easy thing to be aware of, Baela.”
She could point out that Joffrey’s already aware of it, aware that something is different, and wrong. Or that denying it got his mother nowhere, Jace still found out- but she knows he knows those things.
“I didn’t mean you had to tell him now. Only that he will find out sooner than later, and surely it would be better to hear it from you rather than someone else.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “We can talk about this later.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and nodded. “Alright,” he said quietly.
They stayed that way for a few seconds more, before he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and left to call the bath for her.