JACE

Jace is well aware that he is Daemon's least favourite child. Unlike most parents, his stepfather is not one to lie to himself; he could probably list his order of preference without hesitation: Baela, Joffrey, Viserys, Aegon, Luke, Rhaena, and finally Jace. But no one need ask; the Rogue Prince does not take care to conceal his preferences.

Those preferences at least make sense; he favours Baela and Joffrey because they are the most like him, Viserys over Aegon because he hopes for him to claim Vermithor, and Rhaena came last among his own blood because he just does not know how to interact with her. But despite Luke's similar gentle disposition, Daemon still favours him over Jace. Probably because Luke idolizes him. To Luke, Daemon had been a welcome new father figure during a tumultuous year. But Jace had been older, and the change had been jarring to him.

"I know it must seem sudden," his mother had told them. She and Daemon had announced their plans at the breakfast table the day after he'd arrived on Dragonstone. "But we need to consolidate our power, we need to support one another."

"The loss of the Strongs, Laena and Laenor, of Vhagar… our enemies have gained much for their position these few months." Daemon had warned them.

"Which is why we need to come together," his mother had said. "Protect each other as a family from those who would do us harm."

Daemon had looked to his girls. "Rhaenyra needs our help. And you need a mother. It is essential we marry before the King— or rather the council — pushes her into another match, very likely against her best interest. And joining our lines will make our enemies think twice about questioning Rhaenyra's claim."

"Who are our enemies?" Baela had asked.

He answered too fast. "Anyone not at this table is a potential enemy."

The children looked around. "What about Grandmother and Grandsire?" asked Luke.

"Whatever names you might bare, we are Targaryens," Daemon said. "Corlys and Rhaenys are as much Velaryons as the Greens are Hightowers. They have no love for us now that Laena and Laenor are gone. We keep them close, but remember, we stay together."

"In the long term, this is the safest option," his mother said. "But in the short term, people will not be happy about this union. Many Green supporters will likely feel threatened by our new strength."

Daemon fixed both his daughters with his I'm serious stare. "This is only a precaution; keep that in mind. But Rhaenyra and her sons are all claimants to the throne, and I have a duty to protect them. There are many out there with an interest in us being dead, but that interest does not extend to you. Should… anything happen, it's possible that the two of you will survive us all."

Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena all exchanged horrified looks.

"Daemon," his mother chided. "They don't need to think about his yet."

"No, this is important." He raised a single finger in the air to emphasize his point, caught himself, swore and put it down. "Should anything happen to us, to your grandsires, to your stepbrothers? Should you find yourselves alone in the world and unspoken for, you gather what resources you can — gold, gems, anything you can sell — and you run. Across the Narrow Sea and back to Pentos."

"Why?" Baela asked. "Wouldn't that make me heir to Driftmark?"

Daemon shook his head. "Girls without family are not heirs — they're keys. Not claimants, not successors, keys. You would be sold to whichever lord curried favour with those in power."

Baela was aghast, but Rhaena did not see the issue. "So long as my husband is kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him. I don't know why I should run away rather than be a Lady of my ancestral seat."

Daemon sighed and dropped his forehead into his hand. "Baela, you gather what resources you can and you run." He then turned to Rhaenyra and Jace could have sworn he mouthed I don't where she got it from.

"Father," Baela said. "Might I first have Moondancer burn the Lord that seeks my hand?"

His mother and Daemon both laughed. "Of course, my dear Tala."

Despite his belief that Daemon and Baela were indulging each other's extreme dispositions, Jace had remained awake. Mostly to ensure Daemon did nothing reckless while his mother was gone. They had both remained in the study late into the night, and Daemon seemed to resent that Jace had not left him to his own devices.

Jace had given up on actually reading and had settled for staring at the same page whilst trying to stay awake. Daemon, however, was what his mother called a champion insomniac. He would long outlast Jacaerys if no news did come tonight.

Gerardys enters before Jace has to find out. "My Prince," he turns and seems surprised to see Jace, "My Prince. I have just received a raven with urgent news from King's Landing. Princess Rhaenyra did not take well to the flight and has entered into early labour."

"What," they both say.

"It says the landing was too harsh for someone at her stage in her term."

Daemon decides to be Daemon. "Do you have any idea of the things I've done to her at this stage and later? There is nothing a short flight could do that —"

"Daemon! We understand. Please stop."

"Fine. Show me the message."

Gerardys hands the scroll over to him, and Daemon shakes his head as he reads. "Princess Rhaenys attends to her? By what… No. And why was she even still in King's Landing when Rhaenyra landed? And they request my sons yet again? What help would their presence be?"

Jace stands. "Daemon, enough. Mother is having a miscarriage. If you will not go, then I will."

Daemon grabs him by the arm before he can leave. "You will do no such thing. You are the very reason we left King's Landing. I will not have you join your mother in that viper's nest."

"Then go yourself."

"She never even answered your message. About the song. About me abandoning all the children on a whim."

"Perhaps she is not in a state to answer. All the more reason we should go."

"All the more reason to stay. When has your mother ever ceded the chance to scold me for being irresponsible? She should have at least demanded you search for me, presumably accompanied by some euphemistic threat of withholding sex."

Jace escapes Daemon's grasp and throws up his arms. "Why are the both of you always so quick to suspect artifice? You and my mother both, you see ulterior motives everywhere!"

"Because they are everywhere."

"I do not believe that."

"Well, that's because you take after both your Grandsire and Father in that regard." Daemon is treading dangerous waters, but Mother isn't here to ward him off. "Like I said, indecisive like Viserys. And dumb as rocks like your father."

"Daemon!"

"At the very least your father was fun. You inherited all the temper with none of the temperament."

"Hold your tongue." He looks nervously at Gerardys who was still in the room.

"Or what, you'll embarrass yourself again? It matters not, Young Prince. I suspect we'll soon be defending your claim with fire and blood."

"I ask again. How are you so paranoid? Both of you?" Their pre-wedding lecture is still fresh. "Why do you expect the worst of people?"

"We grew up in King's Landing."

"So did I."

"No, your parents coddled you there, and then brought you here before you could learn."

Gerardys interrupts. "What reply should I send?"

Daemon is ready. "I'm still not here. Ask for an update specifically from Rhaenyra or Rhaenys. In their own writing. Wait, no, too suspicious. Say that Jacaerys is distraught and wants to hear from one of them directly — emotional reasons and whatnot."

"Daemon please," he drops the anger. "I'm worried."

"And you think I am not? I may be the blood of the dragon, but I am no longer young and stupid. And Rhaenyra isn't here to play the responsible one, so that leaves me to it. You will not go to King's Landing, Jacaerys. You will go directly to bed, or you can stay here with me. But you go nowhere else."

"But—"

Daemon raises the parent finger. "I am not fucking around."

Jace recoils. He hadn't been on the receiving end of that tone since he was a child and Daemon had caught him playing with Dark Sister. I've cut men in half with that sword like they were butter. Next time, why don't you try playing with Caraxes instead, you'll have better odds of keeping your limbs. And then he'd cursed him out again for making him feel old and responsible — a much more heinous offense in Daemon's eyes.

Daemon then realizes he wields the parent finger and flails his whole arm to be rid of it . "Fuck! I'm supposed to run around being chaotic and chopping off heads, not stopping you from running into stupid traps. Just… go to bed. No! Fuck. I hate you."

Jace wisely sits back down — in silence. Daemon walks over to the back corner of shelves and returns with several off-limits Valyrian texts. He sets them on the table before Jace "At least do something inappropriate. Or I'll turn to dust before we hear back."

Jace is lost for how to navigate Daemon in this state. What would Daemon do? Antagonize. "Mayhaps it is time to embrace your age. After all, you're to be a grandsire soon."

"Say that again and I will have your tongue."

Jace realizes he now has a counter to Daemon's I'm fucking your mother jibes. He looks him right in the eyes. "No, you won't… You wouldn't do your daughter the disservice."

Daemon almost smiles. "There may be hope for you yet, Young Prince." He settles back into his seat and Jace decides to actually dig into the forbidden books of blood magic and depravity.

After a few moments, he looks back up to see that Daemon is reading nothing. "She'll be fine," Daemon says. But it sounds like he's telling himself.

Dragonstone had not been so tense since Daemon and Mother had announced she was pregnant with Aegon. They'd been excited when they told the children, but Rhaena had burst into tears. "I don't want Rhaenyra to die!"

Rhaenyra had given Daemon the look that Jace now knows to mean do something responsible. He then awkwardly patted Rhaena's shoulder whilst maintaining maximum distance.

"Honestly Daemon," Mother had scolded him. "What if our enemies learn that you can be chased away with women's tears?" She'd then banished all the boys (after declaring there were no grown men present) from the room.

Jace had assumed she meant to assure the girls that nothing would happen to her, that she was in no danger from childbirth. But later in her term she had come to his chambers. "Always remember that you are my heir, not Daemon."

"What do you mean?"

"Should anything happen, he will try to bend you to his will. You must learn to determine when to listen to him, and when to push back. And when you push back you must be firm, or he will not respect you. He respects strength. But do not try to reach so far as to dominate him; he will throw you from his back. Think of him like Vermax — you mustn't show fear until you've bonded, and even then you will never have full control. You must account for this, and accept it as a fair trade."

"He sounds so… volatile. Are you certain it's a fair trade?"

"One day you may wield the sword Blackfyre, but Daemon is your best weapon. If he decides to care for you, he will die defending you if need be."

"I don't know how easy that will be…" Daemon had terrified him over the Dark Sister incident only a fortnight earlier. "And it seems like even King Viserys cannot command his respect."

"My father makes himself too easy a target. Daemon thrives in chaos and makes sport in provoking the people around him; do not indulge him. The best recourse for someone like Daemon is to ignore him. He'll usually just throw a tantrum and eventually tire himself out. Sometimes though, he'll escalate it until he crosses a line."

"Like what?"

"Like… if he undermines you, endangers the family or the realm. Or lays hands on you. Have the Kingsguard throw him in the dragonmont for a few days to cool off with his own kind, and don't let him out until he apologizes. Like that time Vermax snapped at you."

"Vermax was a baby though."

"So is Daemon."

Daemon did not appear at supper that evening, and Ser Steffon was very uncomfortable when questioned. "We…" he hesitated. "We were playing this drinking game last night, where the winner gets to ask a question or assign a dare. I'd previously asked Prince Daemon a question about…" he looked nervously at Jace, "Ser Criston, and I thought it would be funny if…"

His mother put it together. "Oh no."

"I did not think he would lose; I'd had far more than him to drink. Nor did I think he would follow through so eagerly!"

"Did you tell him the dare before or after the competition?"

"Before."

"Did you win easily?"

"Ye —" Ser Steffon sighed.

"I am but my husband's second love. His heart will always belong first and foremost to chaos. So tell me, what does this dare entail?"

Ser Steffon looked surveyed the children at the table before replying. "He was to fly to King's Landing and collect specific oranges to satiate your… particular and aggressive appetite, and ask Ser Criston to ship you an additional crate of them."

"Seven Hells, Daemon."

But Ser Steffon was not finished. "And then go on about how your appetite had him… riding until exhaustion."

His mother rubbed her forehead, and then turned to him. "Jace, you start your dragon taming now; retrieve your stepfather. Tell him he either returns with you immediately, or I will see to my own oranges."

"Why would or—"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

After Jace knew the context, he would often think of that conversation. He noticed how often his mother relied on the threat of withholding intimacy to keep Daemon in line. And this worried him because he had no such leverage. Daemon is like a bonded dragon.

She's the only one who can control him. If we lose her, Daemon will surely go rogue.

Apparently, Jacaerys did end up falling asleep. A servant awakens him after he knows not how long.

"My Princes, I bring… terrible news." Rather than relaying he simply hands the scroll over to Daemon.

Daemon takes the scroll and reads in silence, pausing for a few moments after. He throws the scroll across the room and storms out.

"What in the — "

"I'm sorry, My Prince. Your mother has lost the child." Jacaerys trembles. His mother had wanted a daughter so fiercely. Daemon and Gerardys had both urged her to make this the last one, that as heir it was not feasible to risk childbirth anymore. So she had engaged every silly peasant superstition, every Old Valyrian myth available to her, in the hopes of finally birthing the Visenya she had always wanted.

Daemon had laughed at her as she'd cycled through her third obscure ritual at dinner. But she would hear none of it. "I am raising six boys as it is. I'll be damned if I must raise a seventh."

"Mother," Luke had said. "There are five of us."

She looked pointedly to Daemon. "Are there?"

Even Daemon had laughed.

Daemon. Mother.

"Fuck." Daemon is now unsupervised, and Jace does not have oranges to withhold.

He gets up to follow Daemon, despite having no idea where he'd stormed off to. Exchanges with several guards eventually lead him outside but nowhere specific. He decides he's better off searching for Caraxes and employs the help of Vermax and his heightened dragon senses.

They find Caraxes on the beach. At least he is still on Dragonstone, and not burning castles. Jace dismounts. "Daemon!" he calls into the dark. "You need to go to King's Landing. Ideally not to burn it."

The beach is dark and quiet; only the waves fill the silence, only the stars light the sky. He does not see him until the first sliver of dawn has breaks over the water — in which Daemon stands waist-deep.

"Daemon. Mother needs you." He still does not turn.

Jace approaches the shore and finds Dark Sister lodged in the sand. Despite the situation he can't resist, so he picks it up. It's lighter than he remembers. "Daemon! I'm playing with Dark Sister!" He starts waving it around. "Ah! Oh!" He feigns dropping it.

Still no response. He decides to escalate.

"Daemon! Daemon! Look, I'm playing with Dark Sister and Caraxes!" He waves the sword in front of Caraxes, who gives him the same you're an idiot not worth my time look he'd thought only his stepfather had mastered.

"Daemon! If you don't start acting like an adult I'm going to fly to Driftmark and…" but Jace cannot bring himself to speak of his betrothed as such. Regardless, he has Daemon's attention.

Daemon looks back. "Baela should have been here by now."

"What do you mean?"

"The message, they said they sent the same message to many houses in search of me. They would have sent one to Driftmark. They would have sent two to Driftmark. And still, Baela has not contacted us."

"Perhaps she went to sleep." But already Jace knows that she would not.

"Not tonight. Not with Rhaenys, Rhaenyra, Corlys." Daemon returns to shore from his dramatics. "No. The blood of the dragon runs hot through her veins." Daemon reaches Jace and effortlessly snatches Dark Sister back.

"So what then?"

Daemon ignores him and mounts Caraxes in a matter of moments. "Follow me, I'm going to Driftmark and I don't trust you not to do something stupid."

"Like check on my mother's health?"

"Jace." Says the man who was just dramatically wallowing in the sea. Jace sighs and mounts Vermax, resigned to the fact that he needs to babysit Daemon now that he's not only a danger to everyone else but also to himself.

Caraxes does not outpace Vermax on the way; he suspects Daemon does not want to leave him out of sight.

"Lady Baela has left the island," a guard tells them.

Daemon curses. "When?"

"We received a raven a few hours ago. She said she meant to take a walk, but a servant saw her take off into the night."

"Hours ago?"

"Daemon you don't think…" But it should not matter, because there were no dark plans at play. But then why was Baela not mentioned in the second message? Certainly, Baela would make a better attendant. Why did her presence not free Rhaenys to return?

"I don't think. I know." No words are needed, they both mount and take flight over the Blackwater.

"Do we have a plan then?" Jace yells to Daemon. "Are we landing at the dragon pit or the keep?"

"Neither. Baela is reckless but not stupid. Moondancer is ideal for stealth; she no doubt meant to survey the city."

"Caraxes is not exactly ideal for stealth. And the sky grows brighter by the moment."

"I know. And I know we're not going to find her. We're going to call her." On cue, Caraxes lets out what the family called his homing signal. Jace and Vermax follow suit.

It's sometime later when Caraxes and Vermax pick up the call of another dragon. The sky behind them has turned pink with the sunrise. Mist hides the water below. They allow their dragons to alter course to chase the song, and Caraxes calls out yet again. Soon they can hear Moondancer's distinct calls with their own, human ears — yet there is no sight of the small dragon.

"It's coming from lower down." Daemon realizes. And with his words, Moondancer ascends from the fog. But she does not fly in her usual manner; she surfaces like a child who cannot swim. Desperately and hopelessly.

And soon Jace sees why: Moondancer carries too much weight.

Before Jace can wonder too long on why Rhaenys shares Moondancer, why both left Rhaenyra in King's Landing, or where Meleys is, Caraxes dives below Moondancer. Jace recognizes what he means to do, as does Moondancer apparently, by her enthusiasm. They'd done this maneuver many a time crossing the Narrow Sea when the smaller dragons grew fatigued.

It takes longer than usual with Rhaenys added to the equation, but soon Moondancer is free of passengers and flies exhausted but now unencumbered into the rising sun. Vermax and Caraxes follow.

Caraxes does not race ahead, likely worried that Moondancer may still fall from the sky. They land in their usual launch field and Daemon helps Baela and Rhaenys down.

They're… covered in frost. Both shake from the cold. Jace hands them both blankets from his saddle.

Daemon doesn't bother to scold Baela. "What happened?"

Speaking is clearly a feat for Baela. "I-I-I thought we could find a sh-sh-ship to land on, but it was too dark at first. A-a-and then the mist came and we couldn't see anything and we could barely stay above it, but it was so cold. The mist would soak us and then we'd climb higher again and it would freeze, and then w-w-w-we'd sink…"

Daemon appraises them closely. "Let us get you inside first. You look like frost monsters." He kindly and uncharacteristically does not add that Rhaenys looks half-dead. A frosty Moondancer collapses — likely down for the day. Caraxes and Vermax give her a concerned fire bath which she seems to appreciate.

Daemon is wise enough to let Jacaerys be the one to help Rhaenys — she'd likely sooner die than accept his help or touch. They make their way to the fire in the study, hopefully still warm, past many alarmed guards and rising servants.

"Send the Maester immediately," Jace orders. He assesses his companions, and sees that Daemon's movements have grown stiff and slow as well. "And hot tea."

"F-f-father, why are you frozen?" Baela asks. Daemon is also covered in ice from the waist down. And then he remembers that Daemon had gone straight from water dramatics to flying above the clouds at the day's coldest hour.

"Long story, I suspect your night was longer though."

Jace thinks Baela nods. It is hard to tell as she shakes.

The fire is mercifully still roaring in the abandoned study, and they take to cushions on the floor as close to the warmth as is safe. The tea arrives before the Maester, which seems to be enough to reinvigorate Baela. Rhaenys starts to look more conscious, and Baela's shivering calms. In fact, she's eerily calm.

Her voice is so tired. "I just… wanted to see."

"And did you?" Daemon asks.

"Yes." Baela hesitates. She shakes her head.

"Tell me, tala."

"I'm sorry, Father… our King is dead."

Jacaerys, despite being the only one not literally frozen, goes numb.

Daemon leans forward until his head rests in his hands and closes his eyes. "And the Vipers now repudiate the succession no doubt." He snaps back up with urgency. "And Rhaenyra?"

"She was alive when I saw her a few hours ago. She couldn't get on though. She was… the letter was premature, but it was prophetic. I believe the stress brought an end to her term." This, at least, Jace had already come to accept. But the rest…

"Where is she? What happened? What is to happen?" Jace finally asks.

"I'm so sorry," Baela cries. "I couldn't take her! There were too many people coming, and she wouldn't let me stay. She ordered me as my queen. To come back to you and stop you from flying in to their trap."

Daemon spares no more time for emotion. "They wanted my sons, but not Laenor's. Why?"

"They…" Baela looks to Jace. "Grandmother says they mean to offer them exile in exchange for renouncing their claim."

"To the throne?"

"No." Baela just looks at him apologetically.

Rhaenys recovers enough to speak. "To their name."

"What?" Jacaerys asks.

"They meant to lure you with your sons and force Jace, Luke and Joff into exile. Renouncing their… legitimacy would ensure the survival of their brothers."

"As if they meant to keep my sons alive."

"You do not understand Daemon… The Greens think themselves merciful, and I do not know if their mercy is a better or worse fate for our house."

"Rhaenyra?"

"She will not be killed." The last of the ice melts, and both Daemon and Jace fold with relief. But Rhaenys does not look happy.

"Rhaenys… what?"

"I think we should discuss this, and another matter, in private."

"No, we need to hear this!" Jace objects. Rhaenys studies him and Baela for a moment.

"They mean to uphold Rhaenyra's claim." Jace is baffled and Baela seems to be in a similar state, but Daemon's face immediately darkens.

"Not Aegon," he says like it's obvious. "So… council or blood? Gods be damned, I don't even know who's worse."

"Aemond," is all she says.

"Aemond. That pretender will not be happy until he can wear my skin. But it does not matter, they cannot move forward while I live."

He looks up to Rhaenys for reassurance. Reassurance that does not come. "They have a contingency plan. They mean to move forward immediately, regardless of your survival."

"On what grounds?"

"Laenor."

Rhaenys and Daemon stare each other down. Baela proves to be as confused as Jace. "I do not understand."

"Rhaenyra is the key to the Seven Kingdoms," Daemon says. "And now the Hightowers hold her in their hands."