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— After the weeks of Rhaenyra not writing back to Jacaerys' frantic letters, the man had finally giving up.
"I need to ride to my mother."
Jacaerys stood by the door of his wife and his shared chambers. Sarra immediately turned her head to the sound of her father's voice.
"Jacaerys.. every day those armies are growing closer. I have just lost men. Men who have wives and children. I will not lose you, too."
She didn't once look away from the burning flames.
"My mother needs me."
"Your mother needs to realise the grave danger of how close those green cunts are to the North."
[Y/N] finally moved her head to make eye contact.
"I'm truly sorry, for you loss, Jace. But your mother will not want another son dead.."
"I will not..."
[Y/N] raises a brow. "If you wish to slander me, go ahead. I'm aware I may have nearly lost a battle, but my men fought well for your mother. But they fought in my name."
Jacaerys glances at his daughter, then back up at his wife. "I'll be back in a week."
[Y/N] scoffs, shaking her head. The man she called her husband only just back from a fight to dive head first into another.
"Just go.. run to your dragon, back to dear mummy."
"My mother has been nothing but kind to you, [Y/N]. What is with the slander towards her name?"
"Towards her name?!"
[Y/N] stood up so swiftly that Jacaerys took a step back.
"What about my name? Your mother may have the Throne, but I hope she remembers who fought to give it to her.."
"Winterfell did nothing."
"The North," she corrects him. "The North will end this childish war, because this incestuous family can't decide whether their uncle-brother is better suited for the Throne or their cousin-wife.."
"You know nothing about my family.." He pointed a finger towards her.
"From the moment I met you, Jace. I knew we would have complications. You didn't come here to ask for my hand, you probably wished for ten whores.. and my brother as your future hand of the King, didn't you?"
