Jaedys had spent the morning listening to her grandsire's tales of Valyria's stronghold. She often liked to visit and pass the time with him if his health allowed. Since he had lost his arm the previous Spring, however, he had not been up to it quite as often.
"How fares your training with Ser Harwin, child?" he asked as he blew dust off one of the small figures.
She gave a forced smile, "Truth be told, Grandsire, I have not had much enthusiasm for it as of late."
"Well, that won't do," he muttered absentmindedly, "What troubles you?"
Jaedys gave a slight sigh. Surely, she could not broach the true reason for her diminished desire in her training. She could not engage him in discussing her mother, his daughter's deception, and how since its revelation to her all those months ago it had taken its toll on her trust in Ser Harwin. What had once been an unbridled joy in her life had become a stiff chore due to his own betrayal. Circumstances had changed so that now it was Ser Harwin who went out of his way to track her down for their training, and though she complied with his instructions it was with much cheek and little effort. In fact, she had taken to meeting Aemond after her lessons on a training platform down by the water so that he might share the skills he was being taught by Ser Criston.
"Nothing really," she sighed, "I've just got my mind on other things."
He picked up the figure of the dragon near the caldera of the Valyrian mount. "If you are to be as fearsome as Visenya of old or even Rhaenys then you should continue with your training, my girl. You will be much more formidable than other dragonriders who rely only on the skill of their mounts."
"Like Uncle Daemon?" she asked.
He huffed slightly, "Yes, much like your Uncle Daemon. For all his faults, he is a skilled warrior on and off dragonback." She knew he did not much like to talk about his younger brother, the Rogue Prince, but occasionally, she felt brave enough to toe the line on the subject.
"You're right, Grandsire. I should not yield in my efforts when there's still much for me to learn. There have just been other things occupying my thoughts."
He smiled nodding, "Of course. Well, you're nearly eleven now. You'll be blossoming soon. There upon your parents will be fielding offers from suitors. As your mother's heir it will be a rather important decision since whichever husband you choose will be your consort when you are queen."
She allowed his words to hang in the air a few seconds before asking, "Grandsire, would it not be prudent to strengthen our bloodline by marrying me to another Targaryen when the time comes?"
He gave her an inquisitive look, "Has your Uncle Aegon made such remarks?" If his firstborn son was anything like his mother and grandsire, Viserys knew his appetite would cause him dangerous ambitions.
Jaedys shook her head. "No, I don't have any affection for Aegon. It's just…" she paused gauging his reaction, "It's just that Aemond and I are very good friends. Best friends in fact. Whenever the time comes that I should be queen, I think that he would be a big help to me."
He smiled a little at that, "Aye, the best part of a marriage is feeling that you are tethered through life to your dearest friend." She caught the sadness in his gaze as he said this.
"Is that what you feel for the Queen? That she's your dearest friend?"
The look he gave her, his sad eyes and tired smile, was a rare moment where she was sat before her mother's father, not the King. "That, my love, is how I felt for your grandmother. She was my dearest, greatest friend, and she made every challenge before me feel like an adventure."
Jaedys reached out to hold his lone hand, dry and scabbed beneath her touch. She had never lost anyone, had never experienced death and so could not think what to say. It was a concept lost to her. Though she knew enough that to ask if he missed her would be silly.
"But think, Grandsire, if things had not happened as they did then you would not have Aemond, nor Helaena, or young Daeron. Even Aegon has his moments, few though they may be," she encouraged lightly.
"Oh yes," he said patting her hand, "Yes, and they are dear to me." His eyes did not lose their melancholia.
"Maybe Aemond should join us sometime when we talk about Valyria. I know how much he loves the histories," she suggested.
"Oh, perhaps it is better kept just between us," he said going back to his figures, "When else would I get to spend such precious time with my favorite grandchild?"
The advice the King had given her, unbeknownst to him, had in fact motivated her to put slightly more effort into her training with Ser Harwin. Sensing her disinterest in carrying on conversation, he had suggested an early morning ride for her training this day. As they rode through the Kingswood, quivers on their backs, he would point out targets for her to hit. She had gotten pretty good if the pile of speared apples beside them was anything to go by. They sat together in silence, bows at their sides, eating the lot and enjoying the peace and quiet of the wood. After a while, Ser Harwin cleared his throat.
"I know you're angry with me."
She looked out of the corner of her eyes at him but said nothing. She assumed her mother had told him. As she'd thought on it the last few months, she realized her mother and Ser Harwin must keep secret confidences that she had never realized.
"And I'm sorry."
"…For which part?" she asked quietly.
"I'm sorry for betraying your trust," he replied knowingly, "You and I have always been ourselves with one another. I will not say that I have lied but I have not been truthful."
She nodded as she felt her eyes begin to water.
"I did not want to you to be confused about who you are," he said softly.
"I love Ser Laenor," she replied feeling great tears fall slowly down her cheeks. Still, she kept her gaze forward. "He is a loving father to me."
"This I know," he said nodding.
"But I love you, too," she continued in a small voice, burying her face in her arms to hide.
She felt his arm come around her shoulders. "And I you, Princess. I have loved you since the day you came into this world—loved you so much that I pledged myself to you that same hour."
She replied something through tears but the muffled sound was indistinguishable through her arms.
"Come now, this would not be the first time I made someone cry in training. Though normally it's grown men," he encouraged.
She sat up, wiping at her tears and looking him in the face, "How am I supposed to pretend? How am I supposed to treat you as if…as if I don't know who you are to me?"
He smiled sadly at her before kissing her on the forehead softly. He rested his head to hers and whispered, "Because you are your father's daughter, and you would do anything to keep your family safe."
There. He had essentially said it; enough of an admission that it counted. The acknowledgment that she was his filled her heart and healed some part of it that she hadn't realized had needed mending.
She pulled back and looked at him, eyes burning with the question she'd been wanting to ask, "Are you and Mother in love?"
At this question he beamed, chuckling slightly, "There will never be another for me like your mother, child." She thought on his remark sadly as they picked up their bows and readied to leave. In truth, it was a memory that would make her melancholy for many years anytime she thought about it.
They raced back to the Keep, weaving their way through the Godswood, Ser Harwin on his black stallion and her on a young palomino. The wind whipped at them as they rode, hooves thundering back to the gates of King's Landing where for the first time, Jaedys beat him. They slowed to a trot laughing as they made their way into the gates of the Keep. Jaedys could see the Princes were in the middle of their training with Ser Criston. Normally, she would not be allowed to observe, but dismounting from her horse she felt confidence overtake her and leaned against the wall, bow still in hand.
"Can I stay and watch?" she asked Ser Harwin as he too dismounted and strode up beside her.
"It's fine with me so long as you keep your nose clean," he remarked as he laid down his quiver and bow, "And any matter I don't think the King will have issue with it." Jaedys looked up to where Ser Harwin pointed and noticed her grandsire seated with Lord Lyonel as he watched the training below.
They watched quietly for a few minutes together, making small comments to each other here and there about stances and sword handling. It became apparent almost instantly that Ser Criston's priority was in supporting Aegon and Aemond while her brothers were left to swing at the practice dummies with wild abandon. Aemond looked over at her and gave a small wave. She smiled back, not wanting to distract him from his training.
"Focus, Prince Aemond," called Ser Criston, "You should not allow yourself to be distracted by unwelcomed guests."
She felt Ser Harwin tense next to her.
"Waving at your future wife, brother?" teased Aegon.
"Yes," replied Aemond, not finding humor in the taunt as he swung at the figure in front of him.
"Honestly, you're not even going to weigh your options and see who Mother puts before you?" laughed Aegon as he swatted lazily at his own figure.
"Jaedys is my best friend and a Targaryen. I enjoy her company and conversation," said Aemond pragmatically, "I hardly think there's anything else to consider in the matter."
Aegon cackled in reply, "You really are a twat. There's surely one thing to consider in the matter, but I suppose you're both too young to know what that is."
Aemond eyed his brother warily but continued his swinging. He was not as naïve as he allowed Aegon to assume he was. He knew what his brother meant. At twelve years old, it had not escaped him how pretty Jaedys was even when she made outrageous faces at him. The inviting nature of her laughter had not gone amiss, though loud and unladylike at times. Nor had he been ignorant of how his heart quickened and palms sweated in moments when she took his hand or leaned her head on his shoulder. It would hardly do him any good to give Aegon any ammunition.
He walked away to where Jace was practicing and swung at his sword knocking it down. Jaedys saw this. She knew he was still sore about the "Pink Dread." She tensed slightly but figured the training ground was a fair place for him to take his frustrations out on the lot of them that rubbed their status as dragonriders in his face.
"Don't stand too upright, my Prince. You'll get knocked down," called Ser Criston. Aegon meanwhile continued twirling and swinging his sword frantically at the training dummy. Jaedys noticed him pause to smile at two maids who were walking by. They were certainly old enough to be his mother. She shuddered in disgust. Ser Criston had also noticed. "Aegon."
Aegon turned back to the knight seeming to remember where he was. "I've won my first bout, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy."
Jaedys smirked shaking her head at his overconfidence. Still, Luke and Jace swung at their dummies with little guidance or perceivable skill.
Ser Harwin leaned over to her, "I'll be right back." He made his way to the training swords nearest her brothers. Meanwhile, Ser Criston prepared to face Aemond and Aegon together.
Jaedys watched as both silver-haired Princes tensed a moment. Then, as she might have predicted, Aemond swung first. She knew he couldn't help himself, ever the eager knight. Thus started a volley of swings, each one Ser Criston ducked and parried gracefully with one hand. Another momentary pause of frustration and they were on him again, together this time, before Ser Criston used Aegon's momentum against him to throw him into Aemond.
"You're gonna have to do better than that," he commented smirking. This seemed to goad Aegon even further. Jaedys tilted her head as it continued, watching as Ser Criston, more than anything, used their own exhaustive efforts against them. Clever, she thought to herself. Finally, it ended with him swatting each of them in turn.
As the melee died down, Ser Harwin leaned to her brothers, "Weapons up, boys. Give your enemies no quarter." Ser Criston strode over from his bout and eyed Ser Harwin. The look of loathing that passed between the two was not lost to Jaedys. She straightened up, Ser Harwin's words sinking in. She deftly took one arrow out of her quiver and kept it between her pointer and middle fingers.
"It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston," remarked Ser Harwin as he walked across the training yard.
"You question my method of instruction, ser?" snapped Ser Criston.
"I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils," replied Ser Harwin coolly. Ser Criston's eyes found hers, a cutting gaze as he took in her disheveled braid and riding leathers.
"Not all of us are so fortunate to only have one remedial pupil on which to dedicate ourselves, Ser Harwin," replied Ser Criston in a biting tone. Jaedys squared her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. Ser Harwin's eyes found hers and he shook his head.
"And yet," he replied smugly, "her skills rank far superior to anything I have seen taught on this yard today."
Ser Criston tensed, "Would the Princess care to grace us with a demonstration of her prowess? If she is as gifted as you say, then surely my pupils would benefit from a bit of sparring against her." Jaedys looked to Ser Harwin hopefully. She was ready, she was eager to put them to shame; most of all her twat of an uncle. Ser Harwin paused for a moment and looked to her eagerness.
"I do not think the Queen would find that agreeable, Ser Criston," he replied smoothly, "And after all, is it not at the Queen's pleasure that the Princess train independently." Jaedys was disappointed that he had not given her the opportunity she so desired. But it was nothing to the disappointment see could so clearly see on Ser Criston's face. His sour look revealed how irritated he was that her protector had gotten him with that. Ser Criston would never go against the Queen.
"Very well," he muttered, "Jacaerys, come here." She looked to Ser Harwin, but he was no longer looking at her. He looked over Ser Criston's back to her brother who walked forward apprehensively. Ser Criston grabbed him roughly by the armor as he ordered, "You spar with Aegon. Eldest son against eldest son."
She heard Aegon and Aemond laugh at this. Ser Harwin circled back near Jace. "It's hardly a fair match."
"I know you've never seen true battle, ser," bit Ser Criston, "but when steel is drawn, a fair match isn't something anyone should expect." Their eyes blazed pure disdain at one another for an intense moment before breaking contact. "Blades up."
She looked anxiously to Aemond. Feeling her eyes on him, he turned and shook his head slightly, a shorthand form of telling her not to worry. But she did. She did not trust Ser Criston Cole as he did. Upon telling them to engage, Aegon wasted no time in swinging madly and charging down her brother. Jace backed away frantically, keeping his sword up as best as he could. So wild was Aegon's aim that even Luke and Aemond backed away slightly for fear of being hit. Seeing his opportunity, Aegon shoved Jace to the ground. He snickered as he walked back to Ser Criston. With his back turned, he was shocked when Jace recovered and yelled as he charged. His surprise cost him preciously as he dodged to escape Jace's wooden sword. Losing the upper hand, Aegon panicked and flung one of the straw men in Jace's path.
"Foul play!" cried Ser Harwin.
"I'll deal with him," replied Ser Criston curtly. Jaedys watched as Ser Harwin beelined to her brother, whispering counsel. She saw Jace nod and smile in return. It was not hard to feel confident when Harwin Strong believed in you, she thought to herself.
When the two regrouped, Aegon yelled, "You!" More aggressive than before, he was clearly out for recompense over being overpowered by his younger nephew. Ser Criston continued egging him on. Jace was staggering back, unprepared for such ferocity and clearly overpowered.
"Stay on the attack! Use your feet!" urged Ser Criston. Jaedys's grip on the arrow in her hand tightened as she watched the scene unfold. Aegon kicked her brother to the ground where he landed flat on his back, sputtering with the wind knocked out of him.
She did not go to him, for she knew that he would not appreciate being surrounded by his male peers. She looked to Aemond, noticing he too seemed slightly taken aback.
"Don't let him get up," she heard Ser Criston command. Her eyes snapped back to Ser Harwin. Surely this could not be allowed. Aegon hammered at her brother's sword, egged on by more of Ser Criston's commands, the knight's tone becoming more bitter as he shouted to stay on the attack. Ser Harwin looked to Jace then back at her. Seeing the arrow clutched dangerously in her hand, he marched to Aegon.
"Enough!" he cried, taking the sword from Aegon in mid-swing and spinning him round.
"You dare put hands on me!" shouted the Prince.
"Aegon!" she heard her grandsire shout from the balcony. For he knew it had been bad form.
"You forget yourself, Strong. That is the Prince," snapped Ser Criston.
"This is what you teach, Cole?" demanded Ser Harwin as Jace and Luke shuffled toward Jaedys. "Cruelty to the weaker opponent?" He began to shuffle along picking up the sparring swords, walking past Ser Criston as the latter dropped his wooden sword on purpose. Ser Harwin kicked it and began putting the swords away. Jaedys knew there would be no need for them. The practice fighting had surely ended. Anything that followed the last few minutes of tension would result in real steel. Her grip on the bow and arrow beneath her cloak did not loosen as her brothers stood beside her.
"Your interest in the Princess and Princeling's training is quite unusual, Commander," started Cole in a knowing tone. Her eyes darted back to Aemond, who gave her a fleeting glance. "Most men would only have that kind of devotion toward a cousin…" she watched as Ser Criston turned languidly to face Ser Harwin, "…or a brother…" she tensed, fearing the next words he spoke, "…or a daughter."
She had never before understood the full weight of why people referred to Ser Harwin as "Breakbones." Her sworn protector was ferocious, she knew, but was a teddy bear of a man where she was concerned. Yet the moment Cole spoke the words, Ser Harwin Strong lost his rational mind and leaped at the man. Jaedys watched as her protector swung, thunderous blows landing again and again with thuds and cracks, bloodying Ser Criston's face. The knight did nothing to defend himself. If anything, he laughed, seemingly enjoying his public beating. She counted no less than eight hits before two Kingsguards pulled Ser Harwin to his feet. Still, that did little to quell his hunger for more blood. She watched in horror as a total of five guards wrestled him away from Ser Criston. She watched Aegon snicker at the scene, sending a knowing look in their direction.
"Say it again!" Ser Harwin shouted madly. "Say it again!"
"Let him go!" she cried moving forward. "Unhand him now!" Tears formed in her eyes and Aemond moved toward her.
"Jade, don't—" he started, but too late. She nocked the arrow and aimed it at the guards that held Ser Harwin.
"I said LET. HIM. GO. NOW!" she barked; hand steady despite the adrenaline ringing in her ears.
"Thought as much," she heard Ser Criston mutter through a smirk on the ground. She kicked him slightly with her boot, eyes not leaving the guards who kept hold of her protector.
"Jaedys!" she heard her grandsire call from the balcony, "Lower your bow!"
The King's words to her seemed to shock Ser Harwin out of whatever rage-filled fog he'd been in and shift his gaze to her. She saw pain in his eyes as he took in the sight of her, armed and ready to compromise herself to defend him. He stopped his struggling and panted as he attempted to calm himself.
"Disarm yourself, my Princess," he said heavily, "I apologize for alarming you. There is no need to defend me." Yet the guards did not loosen their grip. She too breathed deeply before lowering her bow, eyes not leaving Ser Harwin's.
She took a deep steadying breath before addressing the guards, "My apologies, sers. Ser Harwin is my sworn protector and I would appreciate it if you released him." The guards seemed to take note of her eloquent authoritativeness and did so. Ser Criston spat some blood to the ground before slowly rising and walking gingerly toward the Keep. His injuries did not prevent him from laughing lowly as he went. Aegon followed, thoroughly amused as well. The stillness in the yard was thick as she felt the eyes of the court on her. While few had been present, the eyes that had borne witness mattered and news would soon spread. She was grateful Aemond had not left. She could still feel him standing beside her, perhaps unsure of what to say or do. It mattered not. She and Ser Harwin looked at each other quietly, both standing in their own share of shame for having laid themselves bare for the crows.