To say she was nervous was an understatement. One of the last things she wanted to do was to marry again and so soon, and even less to someone she had only met a couple of times. Of course, she'd heard a lot about Prince Benjen Stark from Lady Freeholder Lyanna who spoke fondly of her brothers, but knowing she was about to wed one herself…
They'd been in Winterfell for two days. A part of her wanting to get to know who she was to marry this very night yet her father was adamant she remain away as per their own custom of not seeing their spouse until the moment they are to wed on the day it were to happen. Trying her best to remember her first wedding and how she had felt about it all but it had been so long ago now. Jelaerya had been fourteen when she and Jacaerys had bound as one. When they were still good friends and she had first moved to Elyria from Volantis before things went sour between them.
Even now, eighteen years later, the sights she had seen in Elyria were horrifying. There was no denying every city had their own ghosts they wished to keep hidden which wasn't too difficult considering each city governed itself. If the Freeholder's of the cities wished to keep something hushed, it would remain hushed. From a young age, she'd heard of what the Freehold of Old was like. From the sacrifices, to the intense blood magic, the fire magic which to this day ran hot in her own veins even if she had no control over it herself, but the experiments… It was nothing short of horrifying.
Gogossos had been seized after the third war against Ghis who had called the largest isle in the Basilisk Isles Gorgai. Slavery had already been rampant on the island as it was with many, being named to the domain of the Velaryon's, Taeryreos', Calralis', Maeninarys', and the Barareon's. The Velaryon's handled the navy, the Barareon's the coin, the Taeryreos' the trade, the Maeninarys' the law, and then there was the Calralis' who handled what they used the island for. Her own mother had been descended from a lower branch of the Calralis' hence her own pure Valyrian blood.
It was twisted and disgusting on every account. If anything, the slavery was a fitting cover to what they were doing. Pushing their knowledge on magic into realms they never should have done, forcing slaves to mate with animals to create half-human beasts. Beasts which were still said to roam Gogossos even if they had lost it during the Century of Blood. Experiments the Dallaeron's were fascinated with and wanted to further explore. Recalling the time when she had been carrying Daeron and Jacaerys had asked her to see their newest addition, having to use every muscle in her body not to scream at seeing the twisted thing. The body of a goat but with human feet instead of hooves. It had almost caused her to wretch then and it still made her want to wretch.
It was around this time her relationship began to crack with Jacaerys. Knowing he had been ordered by his father to keep quiet on what they were doing until she was one of them too. Jelaerya had done everything she could to keep her boys away from said sights but this had angered Jacaerys massively as her boys were not Caeniar's- they were Dallaeron's, and they would be expected to carry on the legacy expected of their House. Shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts. She was away from it now. Viserys and Rhaemon may still be Dallaeron's but as long as she was still alive she would fight to keep her boys away from Elyria until the time came for Viserys and Nesaemera to become Lord and Lady Freeholder. She did not want it on her conscience her precious son would be for something like that nor her little sister.
Winterfell was surprisingly large. She'd heard it from those who trades with the North due to location but seeing it with her own eyes was something else. With walls that were dozens of feet tall and multiple feet thick, with holes in every wall where people would wait in with their bows and arrows should an invading force appear here. The snow surrounding the large Keep thick and finding out she loved the sound of it crunching beneath her feet. If only it wasn't so damned cold. If she thought it was cold in White Harbour for Aeranor and Wynafryd's wedding, she had been sorely mistaken. It was also expected to get closer, remembering Aemon saying casually that it was still summer in the North.
The thought of snow in the height of summer was baffling. Yet it was to be her new normal. This was going to be her home from now on. Well, Moat Cailin was which she had not yet seen. Small and mighty Benjen had said to her the last time they had talked. Confirming that if it weren't for the Keep that was to be her home in a matter of hours the North would likely have been converted to the Faith. Which was a good thing now, she thought to herself. For that had been the deciding factor on who she would wed. By now, the ripples would've spread to the Dallaeron's of what she'd done and she knew there was a high chance Taherys was currently scouting the skies of the North searching for her. Yet he would not find her, for she was not going to step a foot outside the rest of the day until the hour of the wolf was upon them. Once the vow was made, it was made and there was no turning back.
It was worrying, wondering how they would retaliate against such a slight. Her father's betrothal to Daerya would be dissolved immediately which would insult her and then her own insult on top of it. And they were Dragonlord's whereas her own House were not anymore. There was her boys but their dragons were too young to mount yet, the Mellarys' would stand with them through Visenya's marriage to Daemador, and Saerysa Dallaeron would be out as she was married to Aenor. That would give them enough dragons to hold off an attack on Volantis if it were timed right. Then through this marriage they'd have the support of the North, the Targaryen's, Velaryon's, and the Vaelaleas' through bonds of blood. Location was an issue though, and she herself would not be setting foot in Essos again for fourteen knows how long.
At least there would not be a language barrier, silently thinking her eldest sister even if it was by mere minutes for bothering her enough to agree to learn with her so she could practise. Speaking of Baemala, she heard a soft knock at the door as she popped her head in, hair braided back with a ribbon of pale grey as opposed to the mustard yellow of their House. The reasoning for such hitting Jelaerya again at what she was currently doing.
"Where's our sisters, brothers, and father?"
Baemala for a moment appeared confused by the use of the common tongue, wholly expecting for her to speak in their own tongue whilst alone. Like she'd said a couple days prior, if she was to live here she had to get used to conversing in it solely.
"Father is with Lady Freeholder Lyanna discussing the ways of the North as is Saerysa- "
"She's fine with it?"
Her sister snorted at her question.
"Saerysa hates her brother almost as much as you do. There's a reason she wasn't married to Taherys as per custom, she almost bit his ear off in a fight once."
Now that Jelaerya thought on it, she did recall a rumour about that a long time ago yet she had put it down solely to rumour.
"Our brothers are with your soon-to-be husband, likely threatening him. You know how protective they are over us all."
"They are indeed."
Only then did she notice her sister had a box with her which she opened to reveal a long cloak of their House colour with basic embroidery along the bottom.
"It's part of the custom here. I would've gotten you a nicer one but we don't exactly have time to arrange such a thing- "
She cut her off by reaching over to touch it, feeling the thick wool slide through her fingers and knowing it would definitely keep her warm this night.
"Thank you, Baemala."
Her sister placed it down on the chair in the room she had been assigned. There was nothing fancy about it, very much designed solely for purpose and nothing else. The difference between this Keep and the Caeniar manse was astonishing. Their home was made of a mixture of red sandstone and white marble and spanned multiple floors too with balconies overlooking the Rhoyne, a large courtyard within filled with small mazes for children to play in, streams which branched all the way to the banks of the Rhoyne itself so it was not uncommon to see fish in them, with many covered walkways filled with pillars each intricately carved by Valyrian's of Old.
And it was ancient. Built long before Volantis grew to be what it was today. Initially it had been a barracks but as the city expanded farther out to cross to the other side of the river before eventually splitting into East Volantis and West Volantis separated by walls of black stone. Nearing five thousand years old and still stood tall and proud atop the highest hill of East Volantis. Looking over the Old City which had been built by Valyrian's of Old too and was likely what the cities of the Valyrian Peninsula had looked like before the Fourteen Flames had claimed them to their watery graves. She remembered the first time she'd seen Valyria then, when she had sailed for Elyria to wed Jacaerys.
Well, she hadn't seen the ruins of what remained of the city itself, but there was no denying the deep red hue of the sky to the north towards the southernmost border of the original peninsula. It was terrifying, haunting, and beautiful all at the same time. They said the Doom had never ended, magic still lingering in the air and preventing the area from being inhabitable once again. For if it was habitable, they all likely would've rebuilt their original capital before seizing their grip on the many colonies instead of splitting into eleven cities governed by each of the eleven remaining families. Feeling Baemala begin to braid the long strands of her hair back and leaving some of it to flow down to the centre of her back to keep it from her face. Neither saying anything for what felt like hours as a final pin was slid into place behind her left ear.
"Sīlie iksā, hāedus ñuhus?" (Are you sure, little sister?)
The switch to their own tongue took her off guard for a moment before sighing deeply. Curling a strand of her long silver hair around her fingers before replying.
"Sīr inkot jagon koston daor, kostan?" (I can't go back now, can I?)
"Kepa baelagon sīlie kostas." (I'm sure father can help.)
Now, there was no hiding the snort.
"Skorkydoso, Baemalus? Pār Taherys dīninna gīmī." (How, Baemala? You know I'll marry Taherys then.)
Her sister seemed to realise just how ridiculous her proposal was as she looked down and shuffled her feet a little.
"Gīmiton daor." (I don't know.)
Baemala was about to continue yet she stepped in to cut her off, saying the words everyone knew to be true but no one dared say aloud.
"Kepa kostion jaelas. Ābrazma Ezīmillior Elyriōt istan, hēnka jaelilza. Kepa īlon mēre iā lanta tolie ābrazyyryssy gīmī raqos daor." (Father wants power. I was to be Lady Freeholder of Elyria, he will want similar. You know father is not keen on us being one of two or more wives.)
Again, no words were spoken as her older sister took in her words. There was no denying it, for if it were true she herself would've been betrothed to either Gaeremond or Aenor instead of Jacaerys and Visenya to Daemador. Not to mention Delaesa and Jaeremon. The marriages meant her father had a hand in Volantis, Elyria, the Stepstones, Claw Isle, and Myr. That was not just for nothing, yet Jelaerya knew her father would not do what their ancestors had tried to do. As much as Maelon Caeniar wanted power and for their House to hold a lot of influence over the Freehold, he did not wish to actually run the Freehold. Maybe at one point he had wished for such a thing, but not anymore.
"Konīr Āeksio Ezīmillior Taevar- " (There is Lord Freeholder Taevar.)
Baemala continued, trying to think of a way to explain the reasoning for what was so abundantly obvious.
"Sparos kona gierūlnon vestretis daor. Tarennio Āeksio Jentys emosy daor." (Who said no in that meeting. The Tarennis' do not have a Lord Admiral.)
"Vigaron issa- " (Vigaron is.)
No, she was not getting the last word in this time. She may be her older sister and would one day by Lady Freeholder of Volantis, but right now she was only her sister.
"Mēre ēlī qogron valī emosy daor. Baenyro Elaenō dubys iksas. Se zyyhor hāedar Daesys dīntis." (Only as the first line do not have men. He's Baenyra's and Elaena's cousin. And he is married to his sister Daesys.)
This quietened Baemala down somewhat as she took those words in, only realising then that she had placed the cloak around her shoulders and was beginning to fasten it around her shoulders. Only noticing then the innermost section was lined with fur which warmed her even more. Looking out of the window to see night was quickly approaching meaning there was not much time left before everything turned upside down.
"Drējī kepa hen kostōbon otāpā seltis?" (You really think father agreed to this for power?)
"Issa. Dallāroni raqos daor." (Yes. He does not like the Dallaeron's.)
"Gīmī, hāedus." (I know, little sister.)
The accentuation on the last word was clearly purposeful. Allowing a small smile to come onto her face before throwing a pillow her sisters way who dodged out its path right before it hit her. Baemala's bright violet eyes almost burning into her own of the exact same shade.
"Aōhor hāedar ondoso bykor iksan, Baemalus." (I am your little sister by moments, Baemala.)
"Byka Lyke iksā." (You're still younger.)
By now, Jelaerya was sure her cheeks were beginning to burn red in annoyance but at that exact moment their eldest brother walked in, looked at them both, and realised immediately what was happening.
"Ñurhom Ābrazyyromy vīlīptō daor, hāedus ñuhus." (Don't argue with my wife, little sister.)
It was a common thing in the Caeniar manse, for them to get into fights. Not that they ever amounted to anything, but it did annoy those around them. Deciding now there was no point in continuing the argument.
"Skoro syt kesīr iksā, Taecegos?" (Why are you here, Taecegon?)
She asked, wholly expecting him to still be prodding at her soon-to-be husband to find out as much as he could about the man. It was a little irritating, having brothers that were so protective over them all, but a part of her was glad for it too.
"Aemon Targārien kesīr yydras." (Aemon Targaryen is here to talk.)
It was simple, straight to the point, and it ended the fight. Turning to her sister and nodding that she was indeed certain with what was going to happen.
"Jā, lēkia ziry jikā." (Go, send him in brother.)
Taecegon took Baemala's arm in his own, smiling at her warmly and wondering if she would have that with Benjen. They'd been inseparable as children and her mother had been the one to put her foot down and say there would be no outside matches for them and they were to be promised to one another. She was too young herself to remember her fathers response to such a thing, but there was precious little her father would deny her mother. Seeing the dark-haired Valyrian step inside and close the door behind him.
"Skorkydoso glaesā?" (How are you?)
There was no use in denying her feelings now.
"Izūgan." (I'm scared.)
Her voice betrayed her with such a confession too as it broke ever so slightly. Having to pause for a moment to think it all through again.
"Ēlī Jelmor izūgas, ūī vēttīlaksir koston daor. Skorī ñuha muña kepā kesīr jittisi izūgdan." (The North is scary at first, I cannot deny it. I was scared when my mother and father sent me here.)
The words danced around in her head, noting the clear tone of assurance that could only be honesty within them.
"Ezīmos Jelmor iksā. Lēda Valyry iksan- " (You're half Northerner. I am full Valyrian.)
"Ēlī, hen kona kesīr otāpā beldos daor. Jelmor, iksā sparos iksā. Skore iksō daor. Daorun aōhor ānogar lēda. Valyrys jorrāelilusy daor." (First, thinking like that will not help here. In the North, you are who you are. Not what you are. No one will care if your blood if full Valyrian.)
He cut her off from continuing, beginning to feel some anger at the blatant disrespect before remembering she currently did not hold a title herself and therefore they were of the same station. They could speak to one another however they liked and there would be no repercussions. That was something she would need to get used to as well, everything finally coming to the front as she carefully sat down on the bed and covered her face with her hands and sighed deeply. Aemon noticing her distress too as he moved to sit beside her and gently lay a hand on her shoulder.
"Daenerys nyke tolī dīnili." (Daenerys and I will marry too.)
That…was surprising. It wasn't surprising that Aemon wished to wed in his mothers faith as his father had done so too so the marriage would be legal in the North and not just the Freehold, but it was surprising they would do so first. Either way, it was enough to calm her somewhat that she would not be alone in this. Only eighteen years before there had never been such a union, and in a few days there will have been four. Things were changing, and Jelaerya honestly did not know if she was pleased by such changes.
"Aōha kepa kona gaomas?" (Your father is allowing that?)
"Arlī Zaldrīzesdorot īlva paktot tolī dīnili." (We will be marrying again on Dragonstone in our right too.)
As she expected. Moving to slide her arms under the cloak and burying the lining of fur under her neck and relishing in the feeling of it. Fur was never used for clothing in Volantis due to the climate, only really for decoration. Yet glad for such a thing was true as it was keeping the biting cold out of the room.
"Skoro syt kesīr iksā, Aemos?" (Why are you here, Aemon?)
There was no point now in dancing around one another. He'd come for something and she wished to know what. Noticing then the white direwolf was not there and looking around to see the shadow of Ghost's legs through a small crack in the door guarding them.
"Gīmēdenon tepinna. Ñuhor ñamar kesa bantis kesā, Jelaeryus. Ñuhon lenton kesā. Gierion hen Jelmor, Lenton tolvyyn issa." (I will give you advice. You will be my aunt this night, Jelaerya. You will be my family. For people of the North, family is everything.)
"Baemala kirine pendatos daor." (No wonder Baemala is happy.)
What caused her to make such a quip she did not know, it just felt right in that moment. Aemon appreciated it too as a small chuckle left him.
"Baemala Jelmor jorrāelza. Ñuha muña skorī ñuhe kepe dīntis hakotis." (Baemala loves the North. She annoyed my mother for months when she married my father.)
"Rūntā?" (You remember.)
If he did, he had an incredibly memory. His earlier words of them being family soon striking true which she had not thought about yet. It truly warmed her. Yet Jelaerya would never deny that she would've preferred to be alone for the remainder of her life even if it wasn't exactly seen as right. When a woman wed in the eyes of the Fourteen where she was of a different House, she would renounce all claims to her previous family. Thus when and if the husband died, she could not return to her own home as she was now a member of the other family officially and had to remain in the family. Only for different House's though, hence why Malaelar and Daerya did not marry one another after Haemon died a few years prior. There was pressure on Aemma Rhaeleris to wed too, but every time the talk came up she would take off on her dragon and reappear anything from hours later to weeks later.
"Daor, rūs istan. Rhaella nykelā īlve kepe ivestretisi." (No, I was a baby. Rhaella and myself were told by our father.)
"Kona ziry ryybas vestrō daor- " (Don't let her hear you say that.)
"Jelaeryus, Uēpa Ēngos gūrēñas. Dōre tolī ruarza." (Jelaerya, she is learning the Old Tongue. She is not hiding it anymore.)
Again, she had to stop herself from getting insulted over the direct response.
"Daor, iksos daor." (No, she is not.)
What would be the use in denying it? What Aemon spoke was true again. When they had started to learn common in secret it would've been seen as a betrayal of their ways to do so. A few words were expected for trading purposes, but anything other than that was seen as useless as they would never need to use it. It had come in useful though a few times since she was a child, and she was incredibly happy that she stuck to it now.
"Avy syyz giēñemilza. Ñuhor qyybor litse vale issa. Syyri ondossa iksā." (He will treat you good. My uncle is a fair man. You are in good hands.)
"Ñuhi trēsi ñuhōr hāedār?" (My sons and my little sister.)
"Syyz giēñemilzi." (They will be treated good.)
If only his assurances would ease her nerves. It was completely black outside now, even the snow on the ground outside wasn't visible anymore. All that she could see was the moon shining brightly and almost at its highest point which would be the signal for her to meet her father and make their way to the Godswood. The words she would be promising were spinning in her mind which was a good thing as the last thing she wished to do was to make a fool of herself.
"Viserys Nesaemerā sīr dīntisi. Ānogar iksi- " (Viserys and Nesaemera are married now. They are blood.)
The thought had only now popped into her head, beginning to panic at what this may mean. To them, such a union was not only expected but encouraged in most cases. Yet outside of the Freehold said pairings were sinful and went against every god there was in the world.
"Skore ynot Daenerys? Tolī ñuhor ñamar iksas. Aō ilībilun daor, tolī ūī mazōrīlusy daor yn tolī jorrāelilosy daor. Avy aōhā muñā giez rūsa, Jelaeryus. Daeron nyke rattuty daor gīmī yn dōre ziry morghe jeldin." (What is Daenerys to me? She is my aunt too. I will not lie to you, a lot of people will not accept it but a lot will also not care. You and your mother were pregnant together Jelaerya. You know Daeron and I were not close but I never would've wished him dead.)
Just hearing the name of her eldest brought a tear to her eye and a deep ache within her chest. It hadn't hit her yet, that he was gone. Every time she closed her eyes she just saw him on the ground with blood pouring out of his mouth, ears, and nose. Wondering who would do such a thing to her boy. The easiest person to pin the blame on would be Rhaegar or even Aemon over what he had done to Daenerys, but if that was the case Rhaegar wouldn't have been targeted too nor would she herself be targeted. No, if there was one thing she was certain on it wasn't any of the Targaryen's to kill her husband and eldest son.
"Ziry ozmijen. Ziry hegnīr bōsa ūndon daor se hen nykēla qūvi istas- " (I miss him. I hadn't seen him in months before and he was tore from me.)
Aemon's grip on her shoulder tightened again, only realising then he was still doing so.
"Sparos Jacaerys Daerōn sēntis rhaenili. Hegnīr yydratan, ñuhon lenton sīr iksā, se lenton mēre umbās." (We will find who killed Jacaerys and Daeron. Like I said, you are my family now, and family remains one.)
The talk was broke by a knock at the door again, Aemon saying something to his wolf in what she assumed to be the Old Tongue as it opened and her father walked in. Looking to her and to who was beside her but choosing not to say anything.
"Jēda iksas, riñus ñuhus." (It's time, my girl.)
Carefully, Aemon removed his hand and stood up to nod towards her father out of respect. Just before leaving he turned to her.
"Sīr īnna. Mērpa iksos daor, Jelaeryus. Īlon māzigon kostā." (I will go now. You are not alone, Jelaerya. You can come to us.)
"Kirimvose, Aemos." (Thank you, Aemon.)
Her words were sincere, finally letting go of the last of her nerves and hoping they would remain gone until the night was over.
"Biarvose." (You're welcome.)
With that, Aemon bowed his head and disappeared down the corridor. Slowly standing up and licking her lips to get some moisture back into them as her father held his arm out for her to loop her own through it. Only noticing then he was wearing a thick cloak much alike her own but of a deep grey it was almost black. The reasoning for such a thing easing her as it meant he did accept this fully and no longer was hesitant like he was when it was brought up. Feeling him lean down to kiss her forehead softly like he'd done when she was only a little girl before making their way outside to where her life would forever change.