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High Tide, Chapter 40: Jacaerys
🕑 Added 2023-09-09 09:18:32 +0000 UTCThird Moon 109 AC
Viserra
Nine years had passed since her family had moved back home to Driftmark. In those nine years, Corlys and her had worked hard to prove that their people’s faith in them was not misplaced. They had strived to rebuild Driftmark’s shattered economy in a myriad of ways.
First of all, they had reined in their defiant vassals; Wendwater, Bar Emmon, and Sunglass. All three had had little choice but to accept their invites to several feasts on Driftmark celebrating House Velaryon’s return home. Each feast had proudly displayed the wealth and power of House Velaryon with exquisite luxuries and dishes. At the after parties their vassals had then been introduced to their dragons, as friendly visits to see the wonderful creatures, and to reassure them to not worry if they saw dragons flying in their lands on one of the children’s regular flights.
The message had been understood. After that, their vassals had stopped undermining and defying Driftmark. Though they were not as loyal as Viserra would like them to be, they had been cowed enough to obey. That was all they needed.
With the cooperation of their vassals, and funds funnelled from Tyrosh, they had gotten to work expanding and rebuilding the economy of Massey’s Hook, with Driftmark as the sole exporter of the Hook’s goods. Timber, lumber, furs, wool, bog iron, amber, and many more goods were sent first to Driftmark where they refined and manufactured into ships, paper, furniture, bows, naval supplies, clothes, and whatever else that could be made from the raw resources of the Hook.
From Driftmark, these goods would be sold to Claw Isle, Tarth, or Gulltown, which were similarly affected by the sanctions and so were eager for any trade they could receive. Alternatively, they would be sent to Tyrosh and supplement Tyrosh’s own exports to the rest of Essos. Driftmark had also become a useful stopping point for Tyroshi merchants trading with the North. Their crews could easily stop in Spicetown to restock on their foodstuffs and naval supplies or have the Arsenal at Hull repair their ships.
They had also attempted to revive the Maritime Academy at Hull and conducted training of some of their soldiers and marines at Castle Driftmark and the surrounding lands, providing more revenue for Driftmark’s people as they worked to support and arm the soldiers. Even so Tyrosh still far outweighed anything Driftmark did in this field.
Altogether, Driftmark had recovered in part, if only enough for its people to live a good life and not nearly enough to regain its former glory and prosperity. Spices had returned to Spicetown at last, but where once they would be traded in the city’s great markets and sent onward to King’s Landing and Duskendale, now they served only the demand of Driftmark’s own people, and there were much less of those than there had once been. Despite their efforts, the population of Driftmark continued to decline, even if their work rebuilding its economy had reduced that decline to more of a trickle than a deluge.
It helped that the sanctions and unfair taxes on Driftmark had been increasingly reduced or unenforced ever since her elder brother Aemon had been made Hand. While they continued to stifle Driftmark’s recovery, with many people unwilling to return to the island until sanctions were permanently removed, it had still helped significantly and it boded well for Driftmark’s future, even if Viserra had to admit that there was no way its glory days could ever truly return. No those days were gone. From now on any future Driftmark had even once the sanctions were removed, was to be Tyrosh’s gateway into the Westerosi market.
Nine more years of growth had seen Tyrosh only thrive. Its economy continued to grow and its population grew with it. Due to Tyrosh’s prosperity, they had more than made up every coin they had spent on stabilizing and developing it, even with most of their spoils from the Slaver’s Bay campaign left in the east to develop Velos and Viserria. By now, Corlys estimated that their wealth might even be double or triple what it had been before they had conquered Tyrosh, though wealth was hard to quantify due to the distances involved and its separation into cash, assets, and estates.
The continued growth and prosperity of Tyrosh had gone hand in hand with their efforts to strengthen their existing alliances and build new ones. Trade links were stronger than ever with Tarth, Claw Isle, Gulltown, and the North. In the North, Vaella had been married for nine years and she already had four children, Cregan, Corwyn, Irina, and Sara, all with a mix of Stark and Velaryon looks.
Out of respect to Aemon and to not strain their rapport with him, they had greatly dialled down their trade and attempts to garner influence among his wife’s vassals in the Stormlands. Nonetheless they had found eager new allies and trade partners elsewhere. With the warming of relations between Viserra’s house and House Manderly of White Harbor, the latter’s cadet branch in Serpentholm had also warmed and begun dealing with them, if in secret. Even Otto Hightower was trading with them to supplement his toll revenues, and they had begrudgingly agreed to deal with him, if in a limited scale. They couldn’t get rid of him, they might as well profit from him.
The greatest and most trustworthy new ally they had made in the past nine years however, was House Royce of Runestone. Around seven years ago, the niece and nephew that she had never met, Aemma Arryn and Aegor Mooton had married. Perhaps protesting at that marriage or simply taking the opportunity to strengthen his house, Lord Yorbert Royce had arranged the marriage of his daughter and heir Lady Rhea to Aemma’s male cousin and third in line for the Eyrie, Ser Arnold Arryn.
As he was the son of Lord Jasper’s brother Ser Eldric, the current second in line to the Eyrie, Arnold represented the prestige, name, claim, and legitimacy of the male line of House Arryn. By his marriage to Lady Rhea, Arnold had acquired for himself and his descendants one of the greatest fiefs in the Vale, a potential foundation to eventually press their claim. House Royce had in turn acquired the prestige of the Arryn male line. Already Arnold and Rhea’s eldest son, named Eldric for his grandfather if she recalled correctly, had been given a personal heraldry that was the Royce and Arryn banners quartered. The boy was not even six yet.
With his house now at odds with the Eyrie, Lord Yorbert had sought out new allies for Runestone. He had begun coordinating with his neighbours to the south, the Graftons, House Velaryon’s own allies, to dominate trade in the Vale together. Runestone and its ports were the only major competitor that Gulltown had and with the two houses now working together, they were spreading and increasing their influence throughout the Vale enormously.
Yorbert had also sent Viserra and her husband a marriage proposal, offering his younger daughter Ryella for their nephew Vaemond. Corlys and her had deliberated over the matter at great length, weighing its benefits and disadvantages. It would worsen relations with the Arryns and Mootons that was for sure, but the Arryns had never liked them much at all to begin with and the Mootons had simply been allies of convenience that had cut them off once their elder son had married the Arryn heiress.
The Mootons of Maidenpool at least. Her nephew Maegon in Grey Gallows had taken to trading and dealing with them extensively, cosying up to Tyrosh in trade. He had learned from his mother no doubt. Some were already starting to call Saera the Whore of Maidenpool once it had gotten out that they had been trading with Driftmark.
It was Jace that had convinced Corlys and her to agree to Yorbert’s proposal ultimately. As their heir, they had had Jace shadowing them for years, and he was in the know about almost all of their house’s dealings and plans. At all of 13, Jace had argued passionately in favour of his cousin’s marriage to the Royce lady, saying that it would be a very prestigious and well deserved match for Vaemond that could match the near queenly marriage his sister had gotten. Furthermore, it would bind House Royce to them and their bloc, serving their house’s interests to dominate trade in the Narrow Sea.
When Corlys and her had pointed out that antagonizing the Arryns might antagonize the Targaryens they were allied to, Jace had defended his argument again. He had said that they had already backed down in the Stormlands, upsetting the Tarths. They couldn’t back down in the Vale and upset the Graftons as well, not to mention that the Vale was much more distant from the Targaryens than the Stormlands were with the Princess of Dragonstone ruling it, especially since Lord Rodrik had died and Lord Jasper had not taken up his post as Master of Laws. Furthermore, even if the Targaryens took issue to it, they could defend it as their house seeking to reintegrate into Westeros by forming new alliances and connections with Westerosi houses instead of isolating themselves in Tyrosh.
Corlys and her had been impressed with Jace’s defense of his argument and they had eventually conceded and agreed to the match. Vaemond had married Ryella Royce, and in the six years that they had been married, they had already had two sons, Daemion, and Alyn.
Ryella’s father and sister had aligned Runestone firmly with Gulltown and Driftmark after the marriage, and they had all benefited from the alliance. While the Arryns had been understandably not happy, they couldn’t do anything without Targaryen support. Aemon and the others had not mentioned any concerns about the match before and after the marriage had happened in their letters to her. Ultimately Jace had made a good call.
She was proud of Jace. Her eldest son still had some rough edges, some aspects that he needed to improve on, but no one was perfect. She had faith in him that he would continue to improve and live up to his duties and responsibilities, to the expectations of his position as her and Corlys’ heir. He had proven his capabilities to them many times.
Viserra foresaw great things for all of her children, but it was Jace and his twin Luke that had given her all her hopes and dreams for the future of their house when they had been born. She was proud that they had lived up to those hopes ever since they were children. She loved all her children, and had taken care to never neglect Laena and Daeron as she had been, but after all these years she could begrudgingly understand why her own father had had so much pride in his eldest sons. A part of her still wished that he’d just been proud of the rest of them as well, the way that all four of her children made her proud.
They were making her proud right now, training diligently in the yard. She had always enjoyed watching the men train in the yards of High Tide, it was fascinating and appealed to the part of her that still loved the childhood tales of dashing knights. Before they had gone to Tyrosh all those years ago, she had watched Corlys and his brothers with the Tide Guard in the yards. Ever since they had returned, she watched her sons.
Lucerys, her second son was already twenty years old, a man grown and knighted. His skills in the yard were a sight to behold, almost beautiful, like a dance of steel and strokes and parries. Luke was better than his twin with a sword and axe, their favoured weapons, if only because while Jace had spent much of his time learning the art of governance with her and Corlys, Luke had spent all that time training in the yard instead.
Where Jace had squired for Corlys himself, and many of those duties had involved shadowing him as he ruled and managed their family’s vast lands and assets, Luke had squired for Ser Jaremy Gottwell and perhaps it had been his teachings that had so strengthened Luke’s already strong loyalty to his twin and to their family.
Ser Jaremy’s loyalty to their family was almost legendary at this point and Viserra would never forget the steadfast service of him and his wife Pina, who was still her most trusted servant and secretary to this day. Ser Jaremy had long since become the Lord Commander of the Tide Guard, and he had already been promised estates and a peerage by Corlys upon his retirement, though he had on the latter’s insistence, already been ennobled and taken on the new house name Corlys had wanted for him enthusiastically.
Even when the inevitable day came that Jaremy retired from the Tide Guard and took up his peerage, Viserra would keep Pina as a lady in waiting instead of a secretary if she had to and she did not doubt that Jaremy would find some other way to serve them still, for such was the loyalty of them both. Their young children had been groomed with that loyalty and Jaremy seemed to have taught it to Luke as well.
Under Ser Jaremy’s tutelage, her second son had truly grown into his own, becoming more confident and building a reputation and skillset of his own that set him apart from his twin and younger siblings. All of Driftmark already called Luke, ‘Lucerys the Loyal’, and the epithet had spread to Tyrosh as well.
Of course, Luke had more than just martial skills and loyalty. It was not that they had not taught Luke, Daeron, or even Laena to rule as they did Jace. They had, just as Corlys and his brothers and eventually Irina, Alys, and Viserra herself had all been trained to aid in ruling the family together. Nonetheless Jace was the heir, and Luke and the others the spares. It was only logical that they would be trained to play different roles in the family, even if she knew Luke would be as capable as Jace if he had to take up the lordship, though she dearly hoped that he would never have to.
Her eldest two boys had a special bond with each other, they had been with each other since they had been in her womb together, and they were almost inseparable. When they were younger they used to play mischievous pranks on the castle servants or their younger siblings pretending to be each other. They no longer acted or dressed as identically as they used to but they were still very close. Even now it was strange to see one without the other.
Which was why Viserra was peering at the yard curiously. Jace was not shadowing Corlys or her today, nor did he have any duties of his own that she was aware of. She had expected to see him standing beside his twin, together the two could take on as many as five foes at once. To her slight surprise, it was not Jace beside Luke, but Daeron.
Her youngest son was just a year shy of his own manhood, and he was training hard for a knighthood, hoping to impress Corlys enough to be granted a Valyrian steel weapon as his older brothers had been. Jace and Luke had been given their swords, Seafang and Allegiance, when they were knighted. They were the same two swords that they had taken from Slaver’s Bay all those years ago.
Viserra knew Corlys intended to give Daeron their Valyrian spear, Aeglos, no matter what, as in his words, Daeron had long surpassed him and would wield the weapon with better grace than he did. Certainly all three of her sons had talent that far exceeded their father. Her husband was by no means a poor swordsman or knight, but martial skills were not his passion or true calling.
Still, Viserra would keep that to herself. It was a good incentive for Daeron to keep training. His skills had yet to match either of his elder brothers in swordsmanship but he was already far better with a lance and spear than they ever would be and in Viserra’s opinion he might very well have more potential than either of them did as a warrior.
As she watched Daeron train and improve every day, Viserra felt not just pride but also relief. The devoted mother in her had never forgiven herself for endangering him as she had when she had flown to the Stepstones Crisis heavily pregnant with him. Every day since that he had lived healthy and growing ever more talented was a balm to her soul, even if his daring antics scared the life out of her.
Daeron was always the first to volunteer for some challenge or dare, seeming to have almost no fear, it was what had had earned him the moniker of ‘the Daring’ from the people of Driftmark. Sometimes she felt that her youngest boy had yet to fully determine his place in the family and the world, hence his daring almost reckless feats, but she knew that he would figure it out. He was young, he still had time, and he had family to help him.
“Laena,” she called out to her daughter, who like her, had come to see her brothers training in the yard.
Like her elder brothers, her daughter had also come of age, and had blossomed into a strong and lovely young maiden of seven and ten. The part of Viserra that was still very vain preened knowing that her beauty had come from her, but Viserra could not claim sole credit. Laena looked very much like her but there was much of Corlys in her face and demeanor as well and if she was being honest her loveliness and kindness had come entirely from Corlys no matter his claims that she had gotten it from her.
Perhaps it had been neither of them, for Laena was simply such a lovely and polite girl one could not help but love her no matter what. As charming as she was strong-willed, as charismatic as she was adventurous, and as fierce as she was polite. Laena was very much the kind of person that would kill you with words if she disapproved of anything you did, weaving sarcasm and innocent politeness effortlessly.
If you truly angered Laena however, as some had before, she would cast aside the mask of the Lovely and remind you why she was also known as Battleborn. At that point the restraint was gone entirely and she would come after you with a grudge in a way that terrified almost everyone. Except for her of course. Laena might have Corlys, her brothers, all of Driftmark, and even Prince Aegon himself wrapped around her finger, but even she knew better than to cross her mother. Viserra had ensured that Laena would not become a spoilt brat like Saera had and they were all thankful for that.
“Yes Mother?” Laena replied.
“Where is your brother?” She asked.
“Which one? I have three,” she replied cheekily.
Viserra was unimpressed. “The one not currently training in the yard with the other two, unless you have misplaced your eyes?”
She resisted the urge to sigh. Laena was normally so polite and proper but on occasion she would feel the mischievous urge to be cheeky or sarcastic. She had to have gotten it from Corlys, there was no other explanation.
Realizing that she wasn’t in the mood for jesting, her daughter replied seriously. “Not sure. He took his dragon out riding this morning.”
“Did he say when he would be back?” Viserra asked. Jace was a grown man of twenty, knighted and armed, and he had Tessarion with him. There was nothing that could harm him. Still that did not mean she liked not knowing where he was.
“He didn’t. He probably just went to Claw Isle again,” Laena said reassuringly.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Viserra said, not at all reassured as her thoughts shifted.
Her family had lived ten years in Tyrosh, with their children shielded by Corlys and her from the worst of their difficulties in that damnable city. Even after they’d returned to Driftmark, the children would ask to visit Tyrosh, especially Jace and Luke. So much so they had spent as much as six months in Tyrosh at one point. And ever since Jace and Luke had come of age four years ago, they would regularly visit Tyrosh alone on their dragons.
Viserra could understand why. While Tyrosh was bitter for Corlys and her and the rest of the older generation of their house, for the children, Tyrosh had only good memories. Jace and Luke were too young to really remember what the worst of it had been like but old enough to remember growing up in Tyrosh until they were eleven. That had stayed with them. She knew they loved Driftmark as the rest of them did, but they loved Tyrosh more. There was nothing right or wrong about that, it was just how it was.
Nonetheless Driftmark and Westeros was still their home even more than Tyrosh was in some ways. Viserra had done her best to familiarize and settle her almost homesick children in Westeros. She remembered years of meetings and playdates, introducing her four children to their kin on Driftmark, or visiting friends and relatives in Claw Isle, Tarth, Gulltown, and even Dragonstone.
Viserra had taken those opportunities to rekindle her own friendships with Irina, Alyssa, Baelon, her mother, her friend Laena Celtigar. She had also formed new connections and friendships with the matriarchs and ladies of the Graftons, Tarths, and other families and even with Rhaenys and Viserys…somewhat. It had been her hope that her children would follow after her and make friends with the children of her own friends.
It had worked, Jace and Luke had followed after her example. They had made friends and connections easily with the natural charm they had inherited from Corlys and her both, especially among their kin and allies in Houses Grafton, Tarth, and Celtigar.
Perhaps it had even worked too well, Viserra thought as she recalled the Jace’s relationship with her friend Laena’s girl. They had met when Jace was eleven and she nine, and they had been very close since. Cassandra was a wonderful young woman and in any other world Viserra would have been pleased to have such a fine gooddaughter. Yet in this world, no matter how much she knew her son desired it, had pleaded with her for it, Corlys and her could not agree to Jace marrying Cassandra. Not yet at least.
Jace’s hand would be a powerful advantage in any future negotiations with the Targaryens. Her father was not a young man, and Aemon had made clear to them his intentions to negotiate an end to the feud once he was King. One of the many points they had discussed over the years was the idea of Aemon’s granddaughter Rhaenyra marrying their son Jace. It was not an offer they could afford to reject should it be given, and to allow Jace to marry someone else in the meantime would be a slight to Aemon.
They had explained all this to Jace at length before, though Viserra wondered if he truly understood it. She had lectured him many times about keeping an appropriate distance from a woman who was not even his betrothed. She sincerely hoped that that Jace had not deflowered her or done anything else inappropriate with her that might ruin her future should circumstances not allow them to marry, she had taught him better than that.
Viserra released the sigh she had had held in earlier. She loved her children dearly, and she would not give them up for anything, but they had been a challenge to raise nonetheless. All children were in truth. For many years now she had found herself beginning to understand her mother’s struggles with raising so many children.
“You shouldn’t worry too much Mother,” Laena said reassuringly. “I have faith that Jace will do the right thing with Cassandra.”
“Thank you Laena. I just worry sometimes.” Viserra accepted her daughter’s consolation before she decided to pay her back for her cheek earlier. “And how is Prince Aegon doing?”
To her credit, Laena did not blush, though in Viserra’s opinion it was a near thing. Her eyes widened in surprise before she averted them and cleared her throat slightly. “He’s doing well,” she finally answered. She did not elaborate any further and did her best to ignore her gaze as she turned back to focus on her brothers sparring in the yard. Viserra resisted the urge to chuckle at her daughter’s embarrassment.
She found it rather ironic that Jace and Luke had been born in Westeros and yet they had had to coax them to adjust to it. On the other hand, Laena and Daeron had been born in Tyrosh but they had come to hold onto Westeros more tightly in their hearts than their older brothers did.
Then again, they had only been eight and six when Corlys and her had moved the family back to Driftmark. Younger and more adaptable. Perhaps it was also due to the friends they had made. Like their older brothers, her youngest two children had befriended many Westerosi nobles and formed connections with their allied houses, and even their vassals in the Hook as well, whom Jace and Luke had never liked very much.
Yet perhaps the most important connection they had made was with the young Prince Aegon after years of visits to Dragonstone. Egg, as they called him, was of age with Daeron and sometimes it was easy to forget when she saw them laughing over some immature jest with each other, that one was destined to be the King of Westeros and the other a dragonriding peer of the richest house in the Known World. If Aegon got his way, perhaps Daeron might even be Hand as well.
Viserra had not missed the looks that young Aegon had given her daughter ever since they had first met, looks her daughter had finally begun to reciprocate a few years ago. Besotted looks of longing, love, and even lust as the two had matured into a young man and woman. She trusted Daeron to keep the two of them chaste for he was never far from their side, but otherwise she approved of their burgeoning relationship.
Much like Jacaerys’ eventual betrothal to Aegon’s sister Rhaenyra, Aegon and Laena marrying would bind their houses together and make things right again. It would be a fair trade, a daughter for a daughter, each riding a dragon. Jacaerys would one day be Aegon’s goodbrother, his Master of Ships and sworn to him as Master of Driftmark, Archon of Tyrosh, and Lord Paramount of the Stepstones. Luke would be by Jace’s side as his ever loyal lieutenant even as their younger siblings were Aegon’s Queen and Hand.
The vision was sweet in her mind. House Targaryen and House Velaryon, united again as they had always been meant to be before her father had torn apart their unity. Yet often, certain thoughts crept into her mind asking her why she was so pleased at the idea of her house giving up its hard-earned sovereignty and independence to become wholly subservient to the Targaryens once more.
She would admit it to herself, though not to Jace because he would certainly use that against her in their next argument on the matter, a part of her did resent that idea. That everything Corlys and her had done and accomplished in Tyrosh would be served up on a silver platter to the Targaryens after everything they had done to them.
Viserra shook her head. She forced herself to remember, as she always did, the support that her mother and siblings had given them for the past eighteen years. She owed it to them to at least try for a resolution.
She had to remind herself of the consequences of being too greedy, of not restraining one’s ambition. It was for that reason after all, that Corlys and her had refused the numerous attempts of the Tyroshi people to crown them as sovereign Prince and Princess or even as King and Queen over the years. No matter how much a part of Viserra longed for it, longed for the titles and status she knew her family and her deserved, their lives were more important than their pride.
Even now, with her children and her riding five adult dragons, House Targaryen still outnumbered them. Balerion the Black Dread had finally died just a month ago, and still House Targaryen had nine ridden dragons with three more in the Dragonpit and no lack of riders to claim them if the need arose.
Corlys and her had ultimately agreed that if possible, seeking a reconciliation with the Targaryens under Aemon would be the best choice for their house. They would squeeze the Targaryens for it, with royal marriages, the Stepstones, and many more concessions, privileges, and unprecedented autonomy as was their right as a dragonlord house. Ultimately though, however begrudgingly, they would be the vassals of House Targaryens wholly once more, with even Tyrosh subordinated to the Iron Throne.
The alternative was to remain in this limbo and legal uncertainty. Were they independent rulers who held fiefs sworn to the Iron Throne? Were they defiant vassals of the Iron Throne refusing to fully rejoin the fold? And what of their claims to the Stepstones? What of the territorial and jurisdictional disputes between them and the Stepstones lords that had already caused a crisis once before? All of this could easily lead to war if they were not careful, and Viserra was not confident that they could win.
For her children, there was nothing Viserra would not give up. Her pride was simply the first in a long list that she would sacrifice for them. And it was hard for her to accept, but she had to be able to let them stand on their own as well.
Jace and Luke were twenty already, both knighted and capable young men. Jace had even fallen in love whether she liked it or not, and part of her still could not help but see him and Luke as her little boys still. The little boys she had conquered Tyrosh and defied her father for.
Laena was seven and ten, already a woman flowered and grown even if Viserra had to resist thinking she was still a sweet little girl. Daeron was also coming of age soon and once he did she would have much less excuses to coddle him or protect him from his own recklessness.
Her children, her babies were all growing up. Corlys and her had done their best to protect them from the world, to train them for it, teach them how cruel it could be, but eventually there was nothing else to do but let them face the world on their own. They could not shield them from everything forever.
Whether Viserra liked it or not, the wheels were beginning to turn. For about a year now, her father had been bedridden and growing ill and old, and many in the realm were uncertain that he would recover, given his advanced age. It left Viserra with many mixed feelings. A confusing concoction of eager anticipation, mourning, and dread for the uncertain future that awaited.
“Princess.” A voice called out to her from behind, interrupting her thoughts.
Viserra turned around toward the voice, and Laena, curious as always, did as well. She smiled when she saw who it was. “Ah Desmond. Do you have a letter for me?”
He nodded. “That I do Princess, from King’s Landing,” he said as he handed her the letter.
Laena, busybody that she was, stayed as Viserra opened the letter. She broke the seal and her heart dropped the moment she read the first line.
______________________________________
Jacaerys Velaryon
Tessarion glided through the sky effortlessly, barely having to beat her wings to stay aloft in the strong morning breeze. It was soothing riding her like this. The feeling of riding a dragon in the skies was hard to do justice to with simple words. It was otherworldly, intoxicating, maybe even humbling to see how small the world really was from the eyes of a dragon.
Other riders chose their dragons as adults, and a dragon rejecting a prospective rider of the right blood was exceedingly rare. Even so, Jace had always felt that Tessarion had chosen him and not the other way around. She had hatched for him in his cradle within a day after all, or so his mother had always said.
With the knowledge and dragonlore that she had learned from her elder sister, his Aunt Alyssa, and from the Dragonkeepers at the Dragonpit, his mother had trained a new corps of Dragonkeepers loyal to House Velaryon and charged with the protection and care of their dragons. Nonetheless she had instructed Jace and his siblings to care for their dragons personally as much as possible, as she too did for Dreamfyre whenever she could. It made the bond between them stronger she said, and Jace could not help but agree.
Tessarion was like a part of his soul, and she mattered to him as much as his own flesh and blood siblings did. They had been together their entire lives, and not one day passed that he did not go to her and draw comfort from her warmth.
A thought occurred to him, and before he could even give the command, his dragon pre-empted him, folding her wings and pointing her snout down as they dived toward the crisp blue sea. The light of the morning sun glimmered and reflected off the waves as they approached. Jace tucked his body forward keeping it close to Tessarion’s body. At the last possible moment, Tessarion untucked her wings, keeping them aloft just feet from the water’s surface. Her wingtips strafed the water’s surface creating a gentle sea spray as they sped across the ocean.
Jace let out an excited shout, laughing and giggling to himself in carefree joy and childlike delight. Moments like these were precious to him, chances to forget about his worries and doubts. He was proud to be heir and to enjoy the privileges of his station and carry out the duties expected of him. He loved his family, and he loved his house. His parents and siblings were the best he could have ever hoped for and he would not trade them for anything but at times it was difficult.
His parents loved him, but Jace had always known they had expectations of him in particular. He was their heir; the man they were entrusting to carry on their legacy. All his life Jace had struggled to match those expectations. He had thrown himself into his studies, filled his every waking moment with thoughts on how to better serve House Velaryon and improve its status and position. Sometimes it was all just too much.
Every person that he had ever met, that he ever knew, expected greatness from him. It was not easy being the son of such famed and renowned people as his mother and father. The Sea Snake and the Sea Dragon had a list of epithets as long as his arm and any book detailing their great deeds would be thick indeed. Their accolades were well deserved, his parents were extraordinary, and he was left trying to be as well. Wondering if he could ever step out of their shadow and be remembered for his own merit, as more than just the dutiful and forgettable heir whose only accomplishment was the bare minimum of maintaining what had been passed down to him.
His younger siblings had gathered epithets of their own already, all of them standing out in their own way. Luke was the Loyal; dedicated, devoted, and dutiful, and Jace had never had any reason to doubt him or his skill with a sword that had long ago surpassed his. Laena had grown into a great and fierce beauty, their mother made small, the Lovely Pearl of Tyrosh, Driftmark’s Delight, Battleborn. Daeron was the Daring; he was brave, charming, witty, and a menace with his spear.
Yet what of Jace? Everything that he had ever done or accomplished trying to be the perfect heir, it had felt like it was nothing special. Few seemed to see the dedication and effort he put into his duties and his preparations to be Lord of the Tides. It was simply expected of him.
Everyone looked to him, wondering how he would measure up to his parents, how he would stand out from his siblings. He had felt the eyes on him ever since he was a boy, watching him, judging him. His parents, aunts, and uncles expected him to succeed and rule well as the next leader of House Velaryon. His siblings and cousins looked to him to lead them. The other nobles, the courtiers, and the servants and soldiers all watched wondering what he would do to prove himself. Everyone wished to know; what was the measure of Jacaerys Velaryon and what could he do?
It was years ago that the answer had become clear to him, and ever since then a fire had been lit in his soul that could not be put out. It was unthinkable and horrifying to him to even consider the idea of failing those expectations and being remembered in that way, as a failure and disgrace. The only option left then, was to not just meet the expectations on him, but to go beyond them.
Jace was not content to simply live up to what was expected of him and die forgotten and little remembered because he only followed the path paved for him. He would not be an indolent heir, content only to boast about the achievements of his ancestors and never having done anything of note himself. Some heirs failed to even maintain what they had inherited. Jace refused to be like them. He would not be a lesser son of greater sires. He meant to be great, to seize it with his own hands and prove to everyone what his worth was. He would not just carry on his parents’ legacy; he would surpass them both. Jacaerys Velaryon dreamed of empire.
His parents had brought House Velaryon dragons, they had conquered Tyrosh, Velos, and Viserria, and brought to their house wealth of such enormity it was greater than any other in the Known World, or so they boasted. Jace meant to make that boast a reality. He would see to it that their dragons grew to a true thunder. They would break the slavers of Essos, and unshackle the chains of the slaves who would worship them as their saviors.
Lys and Myr would bow to House Velaryon and Tyrosh, almost like a new birth of the Triarchy. Volantis, Pentos, and all the rest would do them homage as the true hegemons of Essos. The banner of the Seahorse, of the Sea Dragon, would fly from Driftmark to Tyrosh and Myr. From Lys to Naath, the Basilisk Isles, Slaver’s Bay, and Moraq and the Cinnamon Straits. None, not Volantis, not Jazdaan, or the corsairs of the Basilisk Isles, would contest or trouble their trade routes any longer. Their rule over the Summer Sea would be absolute. Their ships would voyage and trade from the Summer Islands to Asshai, from White Harbor to Ibben. They would no longer have to boast that they were the greatest and richest house in the world, it would simply be a fact that all acknowledged.
And Jace would be remembered as the man who had brought all of this to fruition. He would finally have stepped out of his parents’ shadow and more than lived up to the expectations on him. He would have made his own contribution to the legacy of their house and strengthened it forever. He would hold his head high, having proven that he was great on his own merit, not because of who his parents were.
These ambitions of his, he had entrusted in only a few. His devoted loyal twin was one of them and Jace knew that when the time came he could on Luke to be by his side. He was not as close to Laena and Daeron as he was to Luke, but the four of them were closer than many families he knew and he was sure that they too would follow his lead. The four of them had grown up together, thick as thieves, always getting into trouble with each other or playing some games or racing on their dragons. House Velaryon was greatest together, and Jace did not intend to see his ambitions through alone. It would be with his siblings by his side, as his uncles and aunts were beside his parents in Tyrosh.
No, it was not Jace’s siblings that worried him, it was his parents. He wished them a long and happy life together, they more than deserved it. His own father had made his name and reputation when he was not even the Lord of the Tides yet, Jace saw no reason he could not do the same… unless, they held him back.
Sometimes Jace dared to wonder if the fire in his parents was gone, snuffed out by the death of his uncle Rhaekar and their struggles in Tyrosh. They were overly cautious and called it wisdom, no longer daring enough to do what was necessary to strengthen their house. At times they seemed all too happy to allow the Targaryens to gain ground against them. It was nauseating just how much his parents were willing to forgive the house that had betrayed them and cast them out, undermining their own loyal allies for the sake of disloyal and treacherous kin. He remembered how much he had fought with his parents and championed Vaemond’s match to Lady Ryella Royce until they had finally conceded. Such a match should have been immediately accepted instead of almost rejected out of some idle concern of angering the Targaryens!
Yet his parents wished to reconcile with the Targaryens and Jace had no choice but to obey their wishes for now. He could not be the ambitious conqueror and empire maker if he was not first the dutiful son and heir. He would not undermine his parents; he would not betray the legacy of their house out of his own selfishness. When the time inevitably came that the Targaryens showed their true colors once more, he would be ready to turn his parents and siblings to the better path.
Perhaps he was being too cynical. Laena and Daeron were exceedingly close to Prince Aegon and Jace would begrudgingly admit Aegon was a good lad and a true friend to them both. He would be willing to call Aegon his goodbrother if that future came to pass, but deep in his heart Jace wondered if that future was meant to be. It felt too good to be true.
His parents thought that they had kept him shielded from it all, but Jace remembered a little of their darkest moments in Tyrosh. He remembered his parents crying, cracking under the weight of their struggles, and it was all because of what Jaehaerys Targaryen had done to them. How he loathed the man. His supposed grandfather had never shown them the slightest care or any feelings of love and affection. He was more a tyrant than a grandfather to Jace.
His grandmother and his Targaryen uncles, and aunts, and cousins might talk about reconciliation and forgiveness and support, but Jace recalled none of them being there when he was young and growing up either. They had come crawling back once they had proved they were strong enough to do without them and he feared that the Targaryens would not be sated unless they bowed their heads and became truly subservient to them once more. That, Jace refused to ever do, and he hoped his parents would as well.
Tessarion growled at him lightly, breaking him out of his thoughts. He sensed her annoyance at his brooding and he smiled at her.
“Thanks Tess,” he told her and she seemed to become smug at the praise. Without his direct command, she picked up the pace as they approached their destination. Almost as if she wanted to keep him from brooding again.
Jace felt a smile come to his mind at the sight on the horizon, feeling himself unable to brood on other matters even if he wanted to. Claw Isle was a beautiful and soothing sight to see. He might be biased but he would not consider the island or its castle to be as beautiful as High Tide and Driftmark, or as splendorous and glorious as Tyrosh. Yet Claw Isle had something none of those places had, and a part of his heart belonged to it because of it.
He set Tessarion down in the courtyard of Castle Claw as he had many countless times before. The guards were not even the slightest on edge, so used to his coming were they. As he dismounted from Tessarion, one of them approached and greeted him.
“Lord Jacaerys.”
Jace nodded to him. “Captain.”
“The Lady Cassandra is - “, the captain began before he was interrupted.
“I will take it from here Captain, thank you,” Lady Laena Celtigar said as she seemed to appear out of nowhere.
“Jace,” she greeted him with a smile and her arms outstretched.
He grinned. “Aunt Laena,” he greeted in turn before he embraced her eagerly.
His family and House Celtigar were very close and Jace had visited Claw Isle many times in the past nine years. It had been a tad bit confusing for him at first, too many Laenas in his life. There was his sister and Lady Celtigar and also his father’s aunt, the matron of Breezehome Orphanage, whom he also called ‘Aunt Laena.’ To avoid confusing them, he had addressed Laena Celtigar as ‘Lady Laena’ for a time before she had insisted he call her aunt as well, citing that she and his mother were as close as sisters and she was the wife of his father’s cousin. Jace had acquiesced to her request. Perhaps one day, he might even call her mother as well, but he was getting ahead of himself.
“Will you be staying for supper?” Aunt Laena asked.
He shook his head. “Only luncheon I’m afraid. I might have neglected to inform my mother I was coming here.”
There was amusement in his aunt’s eyes but also a bit of warning. “You need to stop doing that Jace.”
“I know, but her constant nagging whenever I come here can get annoying,” he confessed.
“The only reason I don’t nag you as well is because I trust you with my daughter Jace. Do not prove your mother right,” she warned him.
Before she could continue, Jace heard some excited voices calling out his name. He turned to face them and could not resist smiling widely at the sight. Two of his closest friends walked out of the keep. Ser Caeryn and Caspian Celtigar, sons of Ser Clement and Lady Laena, grandsons of Lord Bartimos. Their appearance was Valyrian, befitting their ancestry. Silver-gold hair and purple-blue eyes.
Jace’s eyes however were drawn to their sister walking between them. Her hair was a delicate shade of pure silver with nary a trace of gold, curling wondrously as it cascaded down her shoulders free of any braid today. Her eyes were as blue as the ocean on a clear cloudless day, and her face was as beautiful as he remembered.
He rushed to Cassandra and hugged her tightly, only breaking their embrace when her brothers cleared their throats beside them at the inappropriate duration before he embraced them too in turn. When he turned around, his aunt had gone
Keeping in mind her warning, Jace went about the rest of his day with his friends. With the servants’ help, they had set up a picnic on the beach and Tessarion had flown down promptly, ensuring they would be given a wide berth for privacy.
While they were his friends as well, Jace had truly come here to see Cassandra, not Caeryn and Caspian, who were frankly their chaperones. Still they were not unsympathetic to their sister and friend’s plight and turned the occasional blind eye, occupying themselves with a sword spar on the beach.
“Aren’t you going to join them?” Cassandra asked him as she looked over at her brothers nearby on the beach. They were resting under the shade the servants had set up for them. Her head was nestled in his lap and he resisted the urge to run his hands through her silvery locks.
“Maybe later. This is more important.”
“We’re not even doing anything,” Cassandra protested. As if to prove her point, she was idly playing with a piece of dried grass in her hands, twisting and twirling and pulling at it.
“Even doing nothing is important, as long as it’s with you,” Jace told her seriously.
Cassandra blushed and turned her face away to try and hide her embarrassment. “That was a poor attempt to woo me Jace,” she said, though he did not believe her.
Suddenly Tessarion snorted, puffing out some hot air from her nostrils beside them. Cassandra seized the opportunity. “See! Tess agrees with me!”
Jace had the strangest idea that his dragon was laughing at him from the chortles in her throat she was making and he was not about to let it go unanswered. “I think she’s just jealous. Don’t worry Tessarion, you’re just as important to me,” he told his dragon, to Cassandra’s giggles.
Tessarion snorted, unamused, and turned away. Jace had to resist the urge to laugh at her antics. It wasn’t all flattery, Tessarion was truly important to him and in his very humble and definitely not biased opinion, Tessarion was the most beautiful dragon he knew, with her dark cobalt scales and burnished bronze crests and horns. Of course, perhaps it was just a bias each rider had because every other rider he knew would disagree vehemently and propose their own dragon for that lofty title.
“She’s grown a lot from when we were younger, hasn’t she?” Cassandra asked him.
“A third the size of Vhagar at least,” Jace agreed happily, proud of how large his dragon had grown. She was truly a queen among dragons. “The Dragonkeepers measured the last time Uncle Baelon met us at Dragonstone.”
Something seemed to be up with Cassandra however, because far from smiling at his praise for Tessarion, as she normally would, she was frowning instead.
“Something wrong Cass?” He asked her, worried.
“It’s nothing, it’s just. A thought just came to me. I wonder if your future wife’s dragon will be as large as Tessarion.”
It was Jace’s turn to frown. “What’s brought this on Cass?”
She rose from his lap to sit up on her own, and his heart and body alike both groaned in protest, sorry to see her go.
“Cassandra?” He pressed.
“It’s just… we can’t wait much longer Jace. You’re already twenty, and I’m eight and ten. We’re both of age and yet your parents continue to refuse to even entertain a betrothal between us, let alone a marriage. My grandfather has sent many proposals and requests to High Tide on the matter and all of them have been rejected outright. Don’t tell her I said this, but my mother is growing upset with it as well. She thinks Aunt Viserra and you are leading us on with false hope.”
At that Jace’s mood soured. “It’s not false hope if I have anything to say about it,” he told her firmly.
“I can’t measure up to Princess Rhaenyra Jace,” Cassandra told him. “She’s the granddaughter of the Prince of Dragonstone, a Targaryen princess, a dragonrider. I can’t give you anything in comparison and we all know that.”
“You make me happy Cassie,” he said firmly. “That’s all that matters to me.”
He regretted his words the moment he said them. They both knew it wasn’t true.
“Don’t lie to me Jace,” Cassandra said, her voice struggling not to break. “You have all these hopes and dreams, these ambitions, your plan to be the greatest ruler your house has ever seen. Am I really someone that you can choose to stand beside you as your wife, even if it means turning your back on your family’s wishes and everything you’ve worked for your entire life?”
He held her tightly to himself instead. “Let’s not tread too much into dark thoughts. My grandfather is only seventy-five and he could still recover from his illness. He could live another decade and if he does we will surely marry. Even if not, the Targaryens are unreliable and unlikely to give my family what we deserve. Not even my parents would be willing to make me wait at that point and if by some chance they are I will fight them for it, for us.”
Cassandra nodded, her eyes were tearing up and it broke Jace’s heart to think he had caused her any pain. He wiped her tears away before he leaned in and kissed her. He had meant for it to be a chaste peck, but like a thirsty man finally given water, Cassandra clung to him tightly, deepening the kiss as she moved closer to him. Their tongues locked and intertwined.
Cassandra tasted savory, like the food they had eaten for lunch, but there was something deeper there as well, something that he had only ever tasted in her, a subtle and sweet flavor. She held onto him desperately, almost like she was afraid he would vanish from her arms if she broke the kiss.
Eventually Jace’s lungs cried for succor and he broke the kiss. He turned to Cassandra in awe. “That was a lot more intense than I was expecting.”
She seemed to have recovered from her despair. “I wanted a proper kiss, and I took it,” she said, smirking.
“Your brothers are right next to us,” Jace pointed out.
“I don’t care,” she said.
Jace’s gaze softened as he looked at her, as their euphoria from the kiss faded, the dark mood seemed to return to Cassandra and he wanted to dispel it. The only way he knew how.
“I love you,” he said softly, but he was sure she heard him.
Her eyes widened and she stared at him in shock. It was an unspoken rule between the two of them that they would never say those words, never truly give voice to the feelings in their hearts, so long as their betrothal was not confirmed. It hurt too much to feel that happiness knowing it could soon be taken away from them.
“I’ll speak to my mother again when I get back today alright?”
She nodded slowly, still speechless from the shock but he knew his words had made her happy. There was a light in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips, one she didn’t even notice was there.
“Have faith Cassie. There is hope left for us still.”
He pulled her back into his arms and they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms for the rest of the afternoon, and not even Caeryn and Caspian’s prodding and teasing would have them let go of each other.
______________________________________________
The sun had long since set by the time he had returned to High Tide. Jace cursed his foolishness. He had lost track of time, so absorbed in Cassandra. He’d probably missed dinner already.
Leaving Tessarion in the care of the Dragonkeepers in the Dragon Den below the castle, Jace climbed up into the castle proper, making his way to the kitchens to get some supper. The servants of High Tide adored him and would be more than happy to prepare a meal for him, even this late.
He kept an eye out for his mother as he stalked to the kitchens. He had told Cassie that he would speak to her but he would rather do that on a full stomach and not listen to her lecturing and nagging as he was trying to eat. Sadly, his hopes were dashed when he saw his mother had guessed at his plan and was waiting for him in front of the kitchens.
Steeling himself, Jace greeted her. “Good evening Mother.”
“Spent the whole day at Claw Isle did you?” She asked, an eyebrow raised.
“So what if I did?” Jace was becoming defensive. “No Mother, before you ask, I did not dishonour Cassie, or take her maidenhead or any such lurid scenario you have imagine. I do wish I could marry her though, as I’ve asked you many times before. Did you know the Celtigars are getting angry about how much you and Dad are stalling? If we let this go on, we could sour relations with our most trusted ally. Mother, I beseech you- “
“Jace!” His mother raised her voice ever so slightly and he quieted, resentful that she was silencing his plea once again.
“I did not wait for you here to lecture you about Cassandra yet again.”
Jace was confused. “Why are you here then?”
He was beginning to grow worried now. There was something solemn and serious in his mother’s bearing, far more than it would be over Cassandra. He couldn’t read the expression on her face, couldn’t tell what emotion was there, almost as if she didn’t know what to feel herself.
“A raven came from King’s Landing today. We’ve been summoned to court,” his mother said at last.
Jace frowned. “Aren’t we barred from court?”
“We were. Not anymore. The King has come to believe that he will not recover from his illness. He has summoned every member of his family to see him on his deathbed, and whether we like it or not, that includes us.”
Jace was stunned. He closed his eyes shut, desperately trying to think. His grandfather was dying? If he did die, then that meant…
He opened his eyes, resignation in his voice. “When do we leave?”
“A week from now.”
_______________________________________________
Author’s Note: I hope you guys liked this absolute whopper of a chapter! As you can see nine years have passed and a lot has passed, and now Old Jae himself is on his deathbed! Stay tuned to see how the following arc unfolds!
Let me know your thoughts on the Velaryon children. They’re all grown up now. I’ve been on a bit of a Narnia kick lately so at the moment Laena seems a lot like Susan and Lucy to me. Would that make Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Daeron similar to Peter, Edmund, and Caspian in some ways I wonder?
Also reminder about my Public Discord server, do link your Patreon-Discord to join so you get exclusive Patron roles and channels: https://discord.gg/NSEwuzpcWm
Comments
Tertius711
Glad you like Jace! Stay tuned to see how it all plays out!
Rathnaar
Man I like Jace ngl....ambitious and all.....and pls Jace x Cass
Tertius711
It's possible they've already gone to war (shortly after the Velaryon campaign in Slaver's Bay) and it ended in a stalemate. Braavos certainly doesn't like the rising Velaryons but they are torn because Volantis is strong as well. Glad to see you here bro! I recognize your name from AH. You used to write a Robb Stark story I was reading.
Jajasim
Super interesting chapter. I find myself wondering about the state of play and alliances in Essos after this time skip and going forwards. Volantis seems an obvious future foe for the Velaryons and I believe you've alluded to the Volantenes having some frictions with their neighbours. I'm very intrigued to see how that's played out and whether it has boiled over into conflict. I also wonder how Braavos feels about the rising Velaryons - could they be threatened by the Stark alliance and a rising presence in the Shivering Sea? Could this lend itself to a strange alignment between Braavos and Volantis?
