Jaehaera takes a tumble, her knee hitting the edge of the stair and she gives a muffled cry. Jaehaerys is already ahead on her when he hears. But, nonetheless, he turns around and helps her up just as he's always done. She might be born a few moments before him, but still needs his protection.
They are twins, Jaehaera and hem two halves of the same ilk. They look alike, and in a certain light it would be impossible to tell them apart. But for all that they are different. They've always been. Jaehaera is the quiet one. She follows where Jaehaerys leads. She is shy and fearful, and she depends on him. Jaehaerys knows he is her shining knight, and the role suits him. He will always protect her.
So Jaehaerys takes her hand and gives her a smile. She returns the gesture with a small curving of her lips; a tremulous, pained thing. His sister finds it hard to express herself, but Jaehaerys knows what she means without her having to explain. He is forever baffled that other cannot understand her, for his sister is almost always clear.
Her fear is clear to him when the armed men enter the Tower of the Hand. Although Jaehaera quietly inches towards the wall, Jaehaerys is well aware of her wildly beating heart. The same fear courses through him. He understands what these men ask of his mother. He understands what death means.
A knot forms in his throat when they refuse to take the Queen's life. The blade flashes and a sharp pain cuts through him. His head hits the ground in a pool of his own blood. He hears his mother cry but dismisses it. He wants to tell her that it doesn't hurt. To stand back up and tell her he is fine. But then he sees Jaehaera through the fog that has settled over his eyes.
Her mouth is opened, her eyes wide and teary, and she screams. She cried like he'd never heard her before. There is blood on her hands and on her dress. Her voice is loud for the first time. Jaehaerys wants to ask her what wrong, but a headless body falls to the ground.
In an enlightening moment he realises the body is his. Panic surges through him. His vision blackens. Something warm touches him. Small hands. His sister's hands. He is being clutched against her and this is the last conscious moment Jaehaerys Targaryen knows.
He drifts into oblivion too peacefully for it to be fair. He should have been allowed to fight for his life. Jaehaerys doesn't have time to comfort his weeping sister. He cannot even think about who will care for her when he is gone. He cannot speak and the warmth cools and becomes ice against his skin. Or mayhap it is his skin that turns to ice. He can no longer hear.
Somewhere above the Mother is weeping for the child's life and the blood spilled. But tears do nothing.