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Daemon succeeded at keeping Jace and Baela away from each other for the three days until they left for King’s Landing. He wasn’t confined to his rooms but he had no desire to go to the training yard and no desire to go anywhere else if he wasn’t allowed to be with Baela. And no one showed up to drag him to the yard or any lessons so he never went.
He spent most of his time with Luke, who was terrified about the upcoming petition but Jace had no comfort for him. He studied inheritance law- as if that would help. As if that was the problem. But it felt good to do something useless as it was.
Rhaena also stopped by a few times, carrying a note from Baela usually, but mostly to talk to Luke, who rarely left Jace's rooms those few days. There’s very few places in Dragonstone where one can truly get privacy, since most of the guards and servants are loyal to Daemon. He’d given up on truly keeping him and Luke away from Baela and Rhaena, but Jace is sure it’s no accident that almost all of his conversations with them in the castle are interrupted eventually. He and Baela sit on cliffs inaccessible except by dragon in order to talk, but Luke and Rhaena cannot, so he doesn’t mind letting them do so in his rooms, where they can’t be interrupted.
He’s well aware of how they look at each other, how Luke tried very innocently to ask how he and Baela managed the betrothal- he didn’t tell him because it was a horrible idea to begin with and it probably won’t work a second time. Plus he’s sure Baela’s told Rhaena who’ll tell Luke anyway.
Not one to be left out, Joffrey was also in Jace’s rooms often- although he did have to go to lessons where Jace and Luke did not. He truly did appreciate the company. There was a loneliness to Dragonstone that could be felt even in company, but nothing chased the feeling away quite like his brothers. Joffrey carried storybooks to him and snuggled into his side while he read and Luke pretended he wasn’t listening but Jace could tell he was. Luke loved to be read to but years ago decided that he was too old to ask for it.
The atmosphere on the ship as they traveled to King’s landing was tense and uncomfortable. Everyone despised having to be on a ship, Daemon especially, but there just wasn’t any way to fly them all to King’s Landing. Luke was ill most of the time which only made him feel worse considering the circumstances and the sea did not seem to agree with the babe either, so his mother wasn’t feeling well, all of which only put Daemon in even more of a foul mood. Jace probably could have found time to speak with Baela privately but if they were discovered- by Daemon especially- it couldn’t end well.
HIs worst fear was that their parents would reconsider and not betroth them. Although his mother had said that they would announce in King’s Landing, as of now, only their family knew of it. It would not be hard to break an unofficial betrothal. Until it was announced to the Realm, he had to be sure to do nothing that would make them doubt their decision.
In the end though, it was Baela who sought him out. She thankfully approached him in public- he didn’t think he’d have the will to send her away if it was private, improper as it was. He was standing on the deck of the ship, idly watching the sailors work. He couldn’t recall the last time he was on a ship- before his father died certainly, he hasn’t left Dragonstone in years. The salt air and the rough boards beneath his hands made him think of Ser Laenor in a way he hadn’t in years. He ached to go back to those days in King’s Landing, when his father would play games with him and Luke, would hug them and ruffle their hair, or his mother would tell them stories before she put them to bed. The way Ser Laenor cared for them even though he didn’t have to, that even though there were many things he could have done- things he should have done- when his wife bore bastards, he claimed them as his own and treated them like his sons.
“What are you thinking about, valzȳrys?” Baela said, interrupting his thoughts. His heart jumped and fluttered and his cheeks flushed at the same time as his shoulders tensed.
Valzȳrys . Husband.
“You shouldn’t call me that,” he forced himself to say. He wanted her to keep saying it. He wanted to say it back, the word he knew and could feel on the tip of his tongue. The one he had practiced the shape of over and over, alone in his room until it sounded as well as it could on his foreign tongue. ābrazȳrys, wife.
But just because he wanted it didn’t mean it was a good idea. It more likely meant it wasn’t.
“Is that not what you are?” Baela asked with faux innocence. He didn’t know what to say. He was, but there was nothing to prove it, nothing that mattered to the court or the Queen and everybody who had ever whispered about him. He wouldn’t tell Baela that he wasn’t but agreeing with her would only encourage her and he couldn’t do that.
“It- it’s best that you don’t,” he said. It felt too dangerous to think of Baela as his wife. He’d spent the past three days desperately trying to only think of her as his betrothed, but the dreams had only gotten more vivid, as if emboldened by the knowledge that she was his wife , and he’d woken up with his shame spilled on his bed sheets.
Baela’s face fell, just a little, even as it changed to one of understanding and Jace felt awful. If he was not as he was she could claim him as her husband with pride. If he was better she wouldn’t have to marry secretly, their parents would have long since betrothed them.
“You’re right,” she said, “We are only betrothed.” She reached down and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in a way that was surely meant to be comforting but only served to make him feel worse.
“I know you wanted more but- I can’t-”
“Jace,” she interrupted. It felt wrong to hear her call him by his name now that he knew how valzȳrys sounded. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he said helplessly.
“I have waited this long, I can wait some more.” she shouldn’t have to wait . “I don’t regret what we did,” she added after a moment, “Whatever you think, don’t think that of me.” When he looked into her violet eyes, they held so much love he didn’t entirely know what to do with it, only that he didn’t deserve even half of it.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“If you apologize again Jacaerys-” he bit back an instinctive apology. “Now tell me you don’t regret it either,” she demanded.
“I don't,” he said unthinkingly. He could never.
Baela grinned. “Good.”
***
The worst part of King’s Landing was the stares. No matter where he went he could feel everybody looking at him and it made his skin crawl. He recalled that there were always people, who always had stared at him when he was younger but he hadn’t realized how unused to the feeling he had gotten since they moved to Dragonstone. The attention made him feel like a fraud, like the bastard he was, a pretender to the throne.
It only got worse at the petition. The way Vaemond glared at him and his brothers, the way the Queen looked down her nose, none of it helped shake the feeling that this was going to end terribly. That they would be declared bastards and have their heads mounted on the walls of the Red Keep as examples of what happened to those who tried to claim what wasn’t theirs. The longer it went on the more certain he was that there was only one outcome. Without the support of Princess Rhaenys, who had remained silent so far, Vaemond easily had the stronger claim.
He stood next to his brother- which just so happened to be as far away as possible from Daemon while still being with his family. Daemon had looked murderous for the past several days- more murderous than usual- and Jace had no desire to be near him.
When the doors opened and the King walked through, he thought that maybe this wouldn’t end so terribly. That maybe they would still be alive by the end of it. It was all he could do to keep the surprise from his face, when Princess Rhaenys spoke in Luke’s favor.
After King Viserys reaffirmed Luke as heir to Driftmark Princess Rhaenys cleared her throat and began speaking again. “Princess Rhaenyra has spoken to me about betrothing her sons, Jacaerys and Lucerys, to my granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I agree.”
Luke grabbed Jace’s hand in surprise, obviously he wasn’t surprised about him and Baela, but Luke and Rhaena as well? Jace made the mistake of looking at Daemon who was incandescent with rage. Both of his daughters married off to bastards- without his knowledge judging by his face.
Vaemond did not want to accept the King’s ruling either, it seemed. “Her children are bastards!” he screamed, “and she is a whore.”
The words echoed loudly in the silent hall and still hall. And then- Dark sister swung through the air with a hiss and Jace felt the sword slice through his neck.
But it was Vaemond’s head that hit the floor, not Jace’s. Vaemond who Daemon stood over smugly, Vaemond whose blood dripped down Dark Sister and onto the stone floor of the great hall. The sword hadn’t come anywhere near him. All he’d done was flinched hard enough that Luke looked back at him worriedly.
Jace stared at the headless body on the floor. He’d thought- he didn’t know what he thought. He’d only seen the image that he’s seen in his nightmares more times than he could count and assumed- thought that Daemon had finally had enough with his mother’s name being slandered by his existence. It didn’t really make sense Jace knew, not even Daemon could get away with killing a prince of the blood in full view of the court- because that is what Jace was, and what it seemed he would stay considering how the petition had gone.
He’d also always thought that Daemon wouldn’t make his mother watch. She cared for him and his brothers, despite her younger- legitimate- children and seeing his death would upset her. Sometimes when he was younger, and more bitter about it all, he would hope that Daemon would lose his composure in the yard and do something unhideable, unforgivable, so that she would do something. Not for him, but for Luke, for Joff. Then he’d realized how much happier she seemed with Daemon and had felt selfish for wanting her to ruin that.
Everything was about his mother when it came to Daemon, he’d learned. You never should have existed. She was always mine. That’s what Daemon always hissed at him. Vaemond had insulted his mother, called her a whore. Similarly, Jace was a stain on his mother, an insult with every breath he took, a mistake she’d been too young to know what to do with. Daemon has never been shy in letting him know what he thought of him.
Jace was broken out of his trance by the guards coming to carry Vaemond’s body away. He looked up to see the hall quickly emptying, clearly the petition was done.
Baela came over to him.“You were ignoring me,” she said. He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that everyone could see how much he desired her with every glance. And if he looked for too long, they would be able to tell everything they’d done.
“Sorry,” he said pathetically. For all his reasons to not look at her, she deserved none of it. She’d said that she didn’t regret it, but he could hardly seem to do right by her.
“You apologize too much. Besides, you aren’t ignoring me now. It would be rude, you know- since we’re betrothed.” She grinned widely at him and he couldn’t help smiling back at her. They were betrothed. Officially now, and although a betrothal could be undone, not without scandal. He would marry her truly and properly- not in a desperate bid to force their parents hand- as she deserved.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Daemon looking furious with rage at them but the far lovelier sight was Baela’s blush-darkened cheeks. He could do that now. He could stand next to her and kiss her hand and there was nothing inappropriate about it. Daemon could get as mad as he liked but he couldn’t claim that he was defiling his daughter.
“Good,” Baela said. She looked over at where Luke and Rhaena seemed to be having a similar conversation. Luke looked extremely flustered and slightly overwhelmed and while Rhaena still appeared to have her wits about her, there was a very noticeable flush on her cheekbones. “Father’s angry about that,” she commented mildly, “but I’m happy for them. They deserve that.”
“They do,” he agreed. They deserve everything.
***
Jace had managed to avoid his uncles the entire time he’d been in King’s Landing. He had no desire to talk to them or even really see them. But it didn’t matter in the end because he found himself sitting next to Aegon at dinner that night. He supposed somebody had to sit next to one of them. And at least Aegon didn’t look murderous like Aemond. He was just drunk. Clearly his taste for wine when they were younger hadn’t changed- and similarly to when they were younger, wine made Aegon mean.
“If you need any tips on how to fuck a woman, nephew, I’d be happy to help,” Aegon sneered, “You need to make up for your other flaws somehow,” He looked Jace up and down making it clear what Jace’s flaws were. It was the most vulgar of Aegon’s japes so far and Jace clenched his jaw hard enough it ached in an effort to not say anything. His mother had made sure to impress upon them that the King had wanted to have dinner with all his family and they were to try and make peace with their uncles. He’d already caused her so much strife this week, he was determined to be the perfect prince and son tonight to make up for it. Aegon was making it difficult though.
“Your cock may be the only thing women like you for, cousin, but I assure you there are other desirable features in a man,” Baela interjected. He squeezed her hand underneath the table in thanks. She had grabbed it when she sat down, and normally he would protest such a thing so publicly, but it was perhaps the only thing that has kept him in his seat and silent this entire dinner.
Aegon didn’t seem put off by Baela’s retort. “No reason you need to be disappointed though,” he grinned sleazily, lust clear in his eyes, “It would be no trouble to help out a woman like you.”
Baela recoiled in disgust and Jace had had enough. “Do not speak to my betrothed that way,” he snapped.
“You had such a temper when you were younger, nephew,” Aegon laughed, “I had been wondering where that went.”
Jace kept his eyes firmly on his plate. Aegon has always been like this, he reminded himself. He used to taunt Aemond about his lack of dragon until he was red in the face and stomped off in a rage. Jace just had to ignore him for this dinner.
Aegon’s chair scraped against the floor. “Excuse me,” he said as he leaned in between Jace and Baela for the pitcher of wine. Jace watched him warily, not trusting him to not be up to something.
“Are you holding hands?” Aegon cackled. Jace realized he was looking down at where his and Baela’s hands were intertwined “That’s so cute -” he cut himself off with laughter and slapped Jace on the shoulder. Jace’s face burned. “No wonder-”
Jace stood up, pushing Aegon away from him. “I dare you to-” Jace trailed off as he realized that everybody at the table had fallen silent. His mother looked at him with concern and he felt ashamed. He had promised her he would be on his best behavior, that he would make peace, yet he rose to Aegon’s taunts despite knowing better. “I wanted to raise a toast,” Jace said, grabbing his cup hurriedly to cover how he lost his temper. “To my uncles. It has been many years since we have seen each other,” he smiled tensely, “But I am looking forward to… rekindling the friendships of our childhood.” he raised his cup, “To Prince Aemond and Prince Aegon,” He toasted and took a long sip of his wine.
He sat back down as conversations resumed around the table. Aegon seemed chastised enough since he didn’t say anything to Jace when he sat in his seat, just nursed his cup silently. Still, Jace felt jittery and on edge.
“How about some music?” the King rasped, and the musicians struck up a lively tune which thankfully cut through the tense atmosphere.
Jace stood and held out his hand to Baela. “Lady Baela,” he said, “Would you honor me with a dance?”
She smiled and accepted his hand and took them to the floor and began to lead them in the dance. He tried his best not to think about how he could feel the heat of her through her dress from where his hand rested on her lower back or the weight of her hand on his shoulder. It was harder to ignore her eyes on him. The way she looked at him was heady and he never wanted her to look away. He wanted her to look and touch -
He knew it was strange how much he wanted her. But he didn’t think it was odd that he wanted her at all. She was beautiful and fierce, a perfect Targaryen in the very image of Valyria. Who wouldn’t want her? And somehow, despite all of that it was him that would marry her. Still, he could hardly believe it.
The rest of the room fell away as they danced. It was just the weight of her hand in his, the way the ends of her hair brushed against his hand on her back, the flush of her cheeks in the low light. That was all that mattered.
Bang
The music cut off abruptly and Jace and Baela froze where they were, mid-dance. Aemond was standing, his cup in hand looking particularly murderous. “I have a toast,” Aemond declares, “To my nephews, Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise,” he leaves a pause, and looks to Jace with a smug smirk on his face, “Strong .”
Shame, and humiliation filled him but mostly all he felt was anger. It felt like that night at Driftmark all over again. Suddenly he was ten and he’d only just realized what he was and that the man who sired him was dead and Aemond’s taunts were ringing in his ears- you will die, screaming in flames, just like your father did- you will die- you will die- just like your father- he doesn’t know- he doesn’t know, does he- my Lord Strong- you will die-
Unlike that night at Driftmark, Jace didn’t have a knife. But he did have his fist and he cracked it against Aemond’s face.
Aemond stumbled back, the hand not holding his wine cradling his quickly reddening cheek. Chaos erupted around him, there was screaming and a crash and somebody laughing but Jace didn’t even look at it. He lunged for Aemond again because even now, he was still endlessly smug. Aemond caught him and shoved him, causing Jace to stumble backwards into a knight who grabbed him around the middle and dragged him away from Aemond. He kicked and fought against the knight but he couldn’t break his grip.
“Why would you say that, Aemond?” the Queen scolded.
Aemond didn’t even appear ashamed. He looked right at Jace as he said it. “I was just expressing how proud I was of my family, Mother. It seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.”
A knife glinted on the dinner table, and a small voice in his head said don’t do it don’t-
He broke free of the knight’s grasp and made a grab for the knife. The Queen screamed and stumbled away, attempting to pull her son with her as she did but it was too late. He’d already managed to bury the knife in Aemond’s shoulder.
He kept his grip on it as he was pulled away- this time by two knights- and it dripped bright red blood onto the floor. The Queen was yelling for a maester and fussing over Aemond who looked pale and drawn. Luke and Rhaena were both looking at him wide eyed and Baela- he couldn’t see Baela.
The adrenaline was fading quickly and all he was left with was terrible, terrible clarity. He had promised to behave tonight, he had promised to make peace, but instead he’d done something irreparably stupid .
As soon as the maester came, the Queen whirled on his mother, her face red with fury. “This the second time your- sons ,” her face became pinched as she spat out the word sons, the word she wanted to use clear in her tone. “Have attacked mine like- like- rabid animals! It was not enough that they mutilated him-”
“-How dare you!” His mother hissed, “Your sons have done nothing but provoke them and imply treasonous things-”
“Treason?!” the Queen shrieked, “You speak of treason- it is your son who has attacked a prince, he should be sent to the Wall or -”
The argument between the two women was drowned out by the sound of Jace’s own breathing as panic overtook him. They wouldn’t- they couldn’t send him to the Wall. He would rather be executed. What about Luke and Joff? What about Baela or Vermax? He knows he fucked up and he knows he broke his promise and he knows he’s caused her nothing but stress lately and he’s been the worst son ever and he’s nothing more than a problem causing bastard- but Mother wouldn’t let them, right? She’d never stand for it. But maybe she should. Maybe if she just conceded the Queen would let it all go, they’d only gotten away without punishment at Driftmark because nobody had seen the fight but them and even though Aemond had lost an eye, Jace and Luke hadn’t come away unscathed either, but here, Jace was solely at fault, Aemond hadn’t done anything except push him a little, everyone had seen-
“Jace?” that was Baela, standing in front of him. His vision focused on her, the worry in her eyes, the concerned set to her brows. Feeling came back to his body as well, the painful and uncomfortable way the knights were still holding him. He tried shifting just a little but they didn’t budge.
Baela caught the movement though and turned her attention to the knights. “Release him,” she demanded.
They hesitated. “My lady-”
“I command you. Release him,” she repeated firmly and her face must have been fierce enough that they listened and let go of him. He tried to shake out his arms inconspicuously, but Baela grabbed one of his hands, holding it tightly. “He deserved it,” she said darkly. Jace was slightly startled by the anger in her voice but it didn’t really make him feel better. Aemond may have deserved it but Jace shouldn’t have done it. It didn't change that it was immature and stupid and reckless.
The room fell silent, which was the only reason that Jace realized it hadn’t been quiet before as the Queen and his mother stopped arguing at the the Lord Hand’s command
“I think we ought to send for the King,” Otto said, “Before the discussion goes further.”
Aemond got an odd look on his face before he stood up. The maester made a sound of protest but Aemond paid no heed. “No need, Grandsire,” he interrupted. “It’s only a minor wound, made by an inexperienced boy,” Aemond looked pointedly at him, but Jace didn’t even bother to react. “I have hardly been harmed.”
“He has stabbed you, Aemond!” the Queen cried, “There must be justice.”
Aemond moved to comfort her. “Mother-”
“Alicent,” the Hand interrupts, “If Aemond does not wish to seek justice then it may be best to let lie.”
The Queen looked like she swallowed something sour but eventually turned to his mother and ground out, “The Princess and her family should leave. In the morning, perhaps?”
HIs mother hesitated. Her face looked pale and tight and she had her hand over her swollen stomach as she usually did when stressed. “I- yes. That may be for the best,” she agreed. “Daemon, take the children to their rooms, they should stay there until we leave in the morning.”
Jace took it upon himself to exit the dinner hall, Baela still holding his hand, and Luke and Rhaena followed quickly, Daemon behind them. The walk was silent, but he could feel Daemon’s eyes on him the whole time. Jace just kept his head down. He didn’t think he could bear to look at anyone.
When they arrived at his room, Jace went to enter it, but Baela still had not let go of his hand.
It was solved quickly when Daemon pulled her away from him. “Absolutely not,” he said.
“But Father-” Baela protested furiously
Daemon slammed the door shut, effectively cutting her off. The silence of his room hurt his ears, the way it seemed so loud. Guilt and shame churned in his gut until he felt nauseous and had to scramble for the chamber pot. When he had finished emptying the contents of his stomach, he sat up and wiped at his mouth. He felt better but only marginally.
If only he had just kept his temper. If only he hadn’t attacked Aemond. If only, if only, if only- it felt useless. If only he wasn’t a bastard. If only he hadn’t been born. If only his father had denied him, sent him away to be raised as a lowborn bastard, if only things were different. They didn’t seem to matter.
All he’d done was prove himself unworthy, a disgrace. He’d only sharpened the knife that would be used to hurt his mother, to steal her inheritance and in the same moment broken his promise and upset her.
He was broken out of his thoughts by arguing voices outside his room. He scooted over and pressed his ear against the door.
“I just don’t understand. This… behavior is unlike him.” That was his mother and Jace felt the urge to grab the chamber pot again as his stomach rolled with guilt.
There was a derisive snort- that was Daemon. “Well, it’s the second time, so maybe it’s not.”
“I know my children, Daemon,” she said staunchly.
“It’s improper behavior for your heir.”
His mother sighed. She sounded tired. “You hardly behaved when you were father’s heir either, Uncle. And Aemond implied such awful things about them. I thought maybe with the petition people would put it all behind them.”
“The realm will never put such things behind them, Rhaenyra,” Daemon said, “It is the order of things.”
“They will have to. Jace is my firstborn son and my heir. He will sit the Iron Throne after me,” his mother insisted.
“Rhaenyra- do not walk away from me Rhaenyra-,” Daemon yelled.
“My sons are trueborn Velaryons,” his mother hissed, “And I will hear no more of this- from you of all people.”
“You have sons whose births have never been questioned-”
“You promised to protect me and my claim, Daemon. Jacaerys is my claim,” his mother said with an air of finality. And nothing else was said, at least not that Jace could hear.
Jace buried his face in his hands. He wished he hadn’t listened. It hurt to hear his mother so steadfastly defend him when he has done nothing to defend her. For once in his life, he almost wished she listened to Daemon.