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The crown didn't fit.
That's the only thing he could think of as it was laid across his brow. It sat awkwardly on the top of his head, too small to fit properly, but he didn't say anything, he had gone to great lengths to find it and wear it he would.
Lord Cregan Stark stepped back, bowing in respect as he did. Jacaerys was grateful for the northern lord's presence, the man had proven himself , his house and his vassals to be the Crown's most trusted allies and their loyalty would be rewarded heavily.
Jacaerys walked up the throne stairs, his feet thudding against the melted swords. It wasn't the first time he had done so, he still remembered how his mother would walk him up the throne stairs at the behest of her father so that he could sit on his grandfather's knee while he held court. He had always told Jace that one day he would sit there as King, and Jace had laughed and clapped with the glee of a child who had still not understood what being King meant. Neither his mother or grandfather had had the heart to tell him either.
As he sat he was left breathless for a moment, this was nothing like those days accompanying his grandfather. Everything seemed so insignificant from up here, so mundane that he had to take a moment to ground himself. Had all the kings before him felt like that too the first time they had sat the throne? Had she?
"ALL HAIL JACAERYS TARGARYEN, THE FIRST OF HIS NAME, KING OF THE ANDALS, THE RHOYNAR AND THE FIRST MEN, LORD OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS AND PROTECTOR OF THE REALM"
The whole room bowed, the Kingsguard raised their swords.
"LONG MAY HE REIGN"
The lords echoed in unison, their voices washing over the room and causing his chest to ache. The crown felt tighter with each passing second and he wanted nothing more to toss it across the room. Let those savages tear themselves apart for it once.
"LONG MAY HE REIGN"
There would be no feast to celebrate the coronation, that he had decided ever since the matter of the ceremony had been raised by Lord Corlys (Jacaerys had allowed him to keep his life at the behest of Baela and Rhaena but he would never call the man family ever again). He was not about to entertain the lords and ladies that had spent their whole lives whispering behind his mother's back and would now seek to curry his favor, instead he had arranged to meet with the Lord Paramounts privately before they departed Kingslanding to discuss the effects of the war on their domains and what was needed to start repairing the realm.
Once the ceremony was finished and the proper respect was paid, the lords and ladies quickly began to abandon the throne room, most of them were needed back at their seats and others had not been offered a stay in the Red Keep. Jacaerys descended once only his family and Lord Cregan remained, finally taking off the crown that was starting to hurt his head. He handed it off to Ser Wulf, telling him to put it in his room.
He then thanked Lord Cregan, promising they would talk before the lord returned to the north in two days time. Jacaerys was disappointed he was leaving so soon, he had even tried to offer him the position of Hand of the King but the Stark had politely rejected it, citing that he had a duty to the north first and that the promise they had made during his first visit to Winterfell was more than enough. With that, Lord Cregan also bid him farewell, leaving the last remains of House Targaryen alone.
Baela immediately hugged him and Jace allowed himself to lean into it for a moment, they both had so much more planning ahead but for now they weren't husband and wife to be, only the brother and sister they had been long before, and who now mourned the family they had lost. He managed to keep the tears at bay, he still had to be strong for a few moments more.
Once he pulled back he looked at Rhaena, his sister tried to smile but it was clearly strained and her eyes looked glassy with tears. Jace was the one to pull her into a hug, clutching her tightly as he felt her body shake with sobs.
Be strong Jace. They need you.
He let her cry as much as she needed, waiting until she pulled back to press a kiss to her forehead. His sister thanked him in a shaky voice before leaving the room, claiming she needed to freshen up. He sent Baela after her for he knew how Rhaena had taken to isolating herself and he worried about her. The ghost of his late aunt still haunted the Red Keep and he wanted to prevent something similar happening again.
That left his two younger brothers, Aegon and Viserys, who looked as miserable as Jace felt. He would only mention it to Baela but he felt completely helpless regarding the two. Ever since they had rescued Aegon from Dragonstone and managed to locate Viserys in Essos, Jacaerys had no idea how to even start taking care of them.
Aegon worried him the most, his once happy brother, the one who had ridden on his shoulders acting like Jace was a dragon, had become a shell of himself. He barely spoke now, and he spent most of his time hiding where he could, the maids too had reported that the young prince refused to wear nothing but clothes dyed a deep mourning black. But it was the aversion he had started to show towards anything regarding dragons that had Jace on edge. His little brother had thrown away all the toys and trinkets that resembled one and when Jace had offered him the chance to choose another egg he had gotten so distressed that they had to bring in a maester to calm him down. The truth was that no matter what Jace did, he could never change what had happened and he hated himself for it.
Viserys was a complete different matter, although he had never been as easygoing as Aegon, he had become solemn in a way that reminded him of an old man who had seen to much. He never played anymore either, spending his days sticking close to Aegon or hiding in the library. Jace had tried to cheer him up by offering to read them stories like he had done so once, but Viserys didn't care for fairytales anymore, not after everything that had happened, and Jace couldn't blame him, he hadn't cared for a long time either.
Jace kneeled before them, hoping to find the trace of something in their faces, something that might tell him what to say or do, but he only found downcast eyes and tightly pressed lips. He placed a hand on their shoulders, pretending that the way Aegon had flinched and how Viserys stiffened hadn't hurt, and promised they would have dinner together. Both boys remained silent, only giving curt nods to show they had heard him, Jace let them go after that, unwilling to cause them further upset.
Finally King Jacaerys stood alone.
It took ten guards and ten servants to open the room.
Jacaerys hadn't known who had barricaded the door, perhaps his mother in a frenzy to protect her last sanctuary in the Red Keep amidst the chaos before she was forced to flee, perhaps the knight that had been with her in an effort to buy some time for his Queen to escape through Maegor's tunnels, either way they had done such an efficient job that it took the men more than half of the day to finally push through.
The dust that had been gathering for who knows how long rushed out, sending him and the rest of the men into a coughing fit. They had to wait until it settled before they entered, stepping over the remains of the broken furniture.
The room itself was in disarray, beside the dust caking every surface there was furniture strewn around. It seemed that everything that could be moved without extreme effort had been used to prevent anyone from entering. Piles of clothes, mostly dresses, were scattered around the floor. His mother's obviously, Jace could even see the blue one his stepfather had gifted her for the last nameday they had celebrated.
All the drawers were emptied on the ground and all of the trunks and cabinets were thrown open. The image of his mother running around frantically as she packed whatever she could in such little time, knowing she was dragon-less and with Aegon besides her left him feeling nauseous.
"Would you like me to have the servants come and clean Your Grace?" One of the Kingsguard asked. It took him a moment to remember he was the one being addressed, it still felt wrong being called "Your Grace" and he sensed it would always remain that way.
"That won't be necessary Ser, I only need a carpenter to be brought up immediately to fix the door" He glanced at the other guards and servants "I would like to be left alone now"
The Kingsguard began to clear everyone out of the room, leaving the King to his ghosts.
By the time he returned from an all too quiet dinner with his family the door had been fixed back into place. The guard posted outside informed that the carpenter had said the door would hold until he could fabricate a new one. Jace thanked him and after instructing him to not let anyone disturb him he locked the door behind him.
Now that it was bathed in darkness the room looked more eerie and intimidating, but he did not care to light any candles, instead he merely opened the balcony doors to allow the moonlight and the glow from the city lights into the room. And then he got to work.
The furniture that could be salvaged was straightened up and dragged back into place, what could not he piled into a corner of the room. By the end he had managed to pull the dresser back in its place, decided most of the cabinets were in good condition, and thrown away both nightstands. Then he began to pick up the objets littered across the floor, it wasn't much in truth; only a couple of mismatched shoes, wrinkled dresses and hair pins, he figured she must have only taken the jewels and other valuables with her. He only gathered the dresses, everything else would not make any sense to keep.
He took a peek under the bed, only spotting a small glass bottle. He grabbed it, taking a seat on the bed as he examined it, one of his mother's perfumes. It was still half full and he slowly brought it up to his nose, being met with a familiar mix of vanilla and citrus. He closed his eyes. his mind transporting him to all the times he had smelled that perfume on his mother and a particular memory that had taken place in this very same room stuck out.
It had been a few years before they had moved to Dragonstone, and Jacaerys had been around eight namedays old. He had been on the balcony, looking over the railing when he had sensed her presence, the smell of her perfume giving her away as she approached.
"What's on your mind sweet boy? You've been quiet since you returned from your lessons" She had run a hand over his hair and he had turned to bury his face at her side, the warmth she always radiated enveloping him like a blanket. She had then pulled him even closer, holding him tight without saying anything.
They had stayed like that for a while, until she had pulled back to look at him. "Did something happen Jace?"
The worry in her eyes had been enough for Jace to feel his chest tighten. He didn't like seeing her like that, he knew she had enough on her plate without his own problems to worry so he often tried to solve his own problems by himself before he had to ask his mother. But now that he was being confronted directly he faltered, Jace had never been a liar to his mother.
He had stayed quiet for a moment longer to find the words to find the words to begin. "Do you want to be queen?"
His mother had stared at him in surprise, clearly that was not what she expected. "What do you mean, sweet boy?"
He turned his back around, staring at the city before them. "Aegon said that for you to be queen, grandfather would have to die, and that for me to be king you would have to die" He had whispered the last part, just loud enough for her to hear.
"Oh my sweet boy" She had pulled him back into a hug and Jacaerys had finally let the tears fall. His small shoulder shook in tandem with his sobs, his hands clutching her dress with as much force as he could muster. Once he had calmed down a bit she had led him to sit on the balcony bench.
"Jace, of course I don't want to lose my father more than you would want to lose me" She wiped the tears from his eyes "But death is a part of life, not even us who ride dragons are immune to it. There will be a time where we all must move on to the next life."
"I don't want to become King without you" He cried against her side. Jacaerys had still not known what loss looked like, and for a boy his age the thought was all too overwhelming.
"If the gods are kind, my father will still continue to rule for many years to come, and hopefully my reign shall be long too. It is far too early for you to worry about this"
He had not been so easily convinced however. "But what if something happens? What will I do?"
"You will face it Jace, I will teach you like my father taught me, and when the need arises for you to take your rightful place, you'll be able to stand strong against those who doubt you"
She had kissed his forehead, taking his face into her hands "You'll see that one day you won't need me as much, you will have a wife and children of your own to care for"
Like any boy of his age he had scrunched up his nose in disgust, which had made her laugh. Jace had thought then that there was no sound more beautiful than it.
Now he found himself in that scenario he had dreaded all those years ago, barely a man and with a crown that would never feel right. And despite what his mother had said, he was finding it harder and harder to stand strong with each passing second.
Every meal was a reminder that Luke and Joff were gone.
Whenever he was asked what was to be done regarding the security of the city and the castle his first thought always went to his stepfather before remembering that he was also gone.
And every "Your Grace" still caused him to look around, expecting to see his mother standing there at the ready to give an order, only to find people looking solely at him.
Jacaerys did not notice the tears until they fell into his lap and just like that everything came crashing down on him.
The news of Luke's murder.
The loss of Princess Rhaenys.
Vermax's cries as he sunk into the ocean.
The belief that Viserys was dead.
His stepfather's sacrifice.
The remains of Joff they had brought before him.
The Dragonpit's destruction alongside the death of most of their dragons.
The cruel smirk of his uncle as he retold how he had made Aegon watch as his mother was burned alive before Jace had taken his head mid sentence.
The realization that he would never see his mother again.
He curled into ball, sobs falling from his lips. His cries echoed around the room but he did not care who might hear.
Just one moment he wished to pretend he was not King yet, just a boy of eight name days seeking the comfort of his mother. A comfort that he pretended was still in arm's reach.
For one second he swore he could hear a familiar laugh and a hand caressing his hair.
Down in the city, a group of smallfolk gathered near the castle walls would suddenly go quiet as the king's faint cries made their way down. The women teared up, some of them clutching their kids tightly, while the men averted their gaze. King or not, there was no mistaking the cry of a child looking for its mother.
Tomorrow the King would stand before realm with his head held high and no trace of weakness on his face. He would hear petitions, attend meetings and work on lifting the realm from the last grasps of the war, all with a straight face. Only when the sky went dark and the moon was full and at it's highest point would he make his way into his mother's old chambers and he would cry until the sun rose again.
More than century later it would still be rumoured that if you stood in the right place at the right time during the first full moon of the month, you could hear the old king's mournful song.
An ever lasting reminder of the love and grief of a child.