𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧 ➵ jacaerys velaryon

15: ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ʷᵒˡᶠ

☁️ ·̩͙✧
C H A P T E R  F I F T E E N

THERE WAS a time, back then, when she thought she had it all figured out. She would marry Aemond, try to live in a civil marriage, then fly with Ilaxia, Venmor and Midnight all across the Seven Kingdoms just to escape the dreads of her life, and be happy in the knowledge that her family, Jace and Luke and Joffrey and Rhaenyra, were safe.

Now, as she gazed out over the sea that stretched above Dragonstone, she had absolutely nothing figured out no more. She would no longer travel the Seven Kingdoms with her three dragons, for she no longer had three dragons. She would not marry Aemond, if anything, she hoped to see her brother again only when the time came to tear his heart out, and her family was by no means safe. Her family was no longer even complete, and she wondered how many more would join Luke in the passing war.

That trail of thoughts was a severely dangerous one, even the thought of it, the making of a simple statistic, made her blood absolutely boil.

"Is it safe?" Someone asked behind her. When she turned, she saw Baela slowly approaching with a half-smile, and Mevanya did her best to smile back at her cousin.
"Yes," she replied, somewhat amused.

Baela finally approached her and simply stared at the horizon with her, silently admiring how far the ocean could reach. Until the question inevitably came between them.

"Are you all right?"

"Define all right," she didn't look back at her, but sighed deeply.
"As in, you're not about to burn from the inside out in these very moment, or rip someone's head off," she couldn't hold back the laughter after that, however little it might have been, it was definitely looser than her behaviour a couple of minutes earlier.
"The burning part, I think we're safe for now, but the ripping off part...?"
"Understandably so," there was a moment of silence before Baela spoke again, changing the subject. "Did you spoke with Rhaenyra?"
"I did, yes."
"And?" The girl waited for Mevanya to continue, but just as she was about to do so, someone spoke for her first.
"And you will come with me to Winterfell."

When they both turned to look at Jacaerys, the boy had such a look on his face that he no longer looked like a boy, but rather like a man. He looked so tired, so angry, so sad, so desperate. But that's just what wars do, they leave everyone feeling tired and angry and sad and desperate.

"I am what?" Mevanya questioned, raising her eyebrow a little too high.
"It was not a question, Mevanya," Jacaerys rolled his eyes and sighed, taking a step closer to the princess without yet acknowledging Baela.
"I'm sorry, who died and made you king?"
"By the Seven, you are so...." Jace had to close his eyes for a second and take a deep breath, Mevanya's recent stubbornness could sometimes push him over the edge.

Mevanya waited patiently with her arms crossed for him to finish that sentence, but he never did, instead he collected the best of his patience and looked at her again.