Dragonborn: Tidal Tales
Jace reread the letter from his brother, Luke, while sitting at breakfast, the parchment crinkling slightly in his hands. The ink was still fresh, the words hurried but legible:
"Our cousin has surprised us with another visit while you were away. No one's shocked anymore, though we all pretend to be. Rhaena just rolls her eyes at her twin's antics. I figured you should know."
"Your brother, Luke."
Jace couldn't help but grin as he folded the letter and slipped it into his tunic. Baela's frequent visits to Dragonstone had become something of a routine—predictable, but no less welcome. He looked up, realizing he'd need to make his own hasty departure if he wanted to catch her before she left. Apologizing to those around him, Jace stood, offering a polite nod to Lord Staunton, who seemed to understand Jace's urgency without a word.
"My lord, I apologize for my sudden departure. The matter of the sheep has been resolved long ago, and I'm grateful for your hospitality as I waited for my Dragon to recover his strength. I'm needed back home," Jace explained, trying to mask his excitement with a serious expression.
Lord Staunton smiled knowingly, as if privy to some secret Jace wasn't yet aware of. "Give my regards to the Lord of the Tides, young prince," he said with a chuckle, patting Jace's shoulder affectionately.
Jace hesitated, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "Lord Corlys isn't in Dragonstone, to my knowledge, my lord."
The older man just chuckled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. "I believe you will find a way to send my regards in only way or another, lad. Safe travels."
Jace, still somewhat confused, nodded before making a quick exit. His mind was already on the journey ahead. It was a blur of gathering his things and rushing to Vermax. The young dragon had enjoyed a week's rest, necessary after their first longer flight, but now break time was over. Jace couldn't wait any longer, he has a she-dragon to catch.
Dragonstone stood tall and imposing against the soft morning light, its dark silhouette etched sharply against the sky. The castle, a formidable fortress perched on its rocky outcrop, had witnessed countless tales of power and struggle. But today, it was the backdrop for a much smaller, yet no less significant, story.
Jace, two and ten years of age, rushed across the stone courtyard, his heart pounding in his chest—not just from the exertion of the hurried flight, but from the fear of missing Baela before she departed, as her visits always were short and bittersweet. Vermax, his dragon, still young and not yet fully grown, landed heavily behind him, his wings drooping with exhaustion. The dragon let out a tired huff as Jace slid off his back, barely pausing to acknowledge the stable hands who hurried forward to tend to Vermax. His focus was entirely on reaching the castle gates before it was too late.
Ahead of him, Baela, a mere one and ten years herself, was already preparing to leave. Her slender frame, still more child than adult, seemed almost swallowed by the massive walls that surrounded her. She was dressed for travel, in dark leathers, her expression a mix of determination, the lingering innocence and mischievous as she pulled a big prank on someone, yet somehow it all mixed up perfectly. The sound of Vermax's landing caught her attention, and she turned just in time to see Jace sprinting toward her, his face flushed with the effort and the worry of missing her.
A wide grin spread across Baela's face as she saw him. "You came back!" she called out, her voice ringing with the pure, unfiltered joy and, weirdly enough, triumph.
Jace, still catching his breath, grinned back at Baela. "I couldn't let you leave without saying at least hello or goodbye," he panted, his smile widening despite the exhaustion tugging at his limbs. His dark gray eyes sparkled with a playful energy that always seemed to ignite in Baela's presence, as if her very presence brought out the light in him.
As they reached each other, they naturally fell into step, heading toward the ship that awaited Baela. As usual, something felt not quite correct. The closeness they usually shared with their siblings, the easy embraces and arms linked in companionship, was absent. Jace's hand twitched at his side, unsure if he should reach out or stay where he was. With his family, it was simple—he would hug them or drape an arm around them as they walked. But with Baela, it felt different. It was as if there was an invisible barrier, a subtle tension he couldn't quite place. She was his half-sister, his good sister, the daughter of his mother new husband, one in a two. The one sister he missed with an ache that could barely be described, like a heartache in a song.
The wind tugged at their cloaks, filling the air with the scent of salt and the promise of a fine day and planty of wind. The rhythmic sound of the waves lapping against the hull of the ship was soothing, yet it did little to quiet the whirlwind of thoughts in Jace's mind. Despite the disquiet inside him, the mood between them remained light. Their camaraderie was easy, born from countless shared moments and the simple joy of being in each other's company.
Baela's gaze flickered back to Vermax, who was resting nearby, his wings drooping with fatigue. "Vermax looks tired," she observed, her tone teasing yet laced with genuine concern, her love for any creature and mostly dragon was well known. Her violet eyes, framed by windswept strands of ivory hair, seemed to hold the depths of the ocean.
Jace shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant, though a note of pride slipped into his voice. "He's strong, we need to build the endurance. Besides, I didn't want to miss you. I hear Moondancer still can't even carry you properly."
Baela pouted playfully, crossing her arms and feigning annoyance, her lips curving into a slight smile. "She will, soon! And when she does, I'll visit you all the time."
Jace couldn't help but laugh, his grin broadening at her determination. "You better. But until then, you'll have to come by ship. It's not as fun, but at least I'll be coming with you this time."
The words tumbled out of Jace's mouth before he fully realized their implications. His plans to stay at Rook's Rest for another week evaporated in an instant, replaced by the allure of adventure with Baela. He made a mental note to send a raven to his mother explaining his change of plans once they reached their destination. After all, Lord Corlys had always insisted Jace was welcome anytime, and this impromptu trip would give him the perfect opportunity to relay Lord Staunton's regards in person.
Baela's eyes lit up, a spark of excitement dancing within them. "You're coming with me?"
Jace nodded, his own excitement mirroring hers. "Of course! I couldn't let you go on your own. Besides, it'll be fun—just the two of us on an adventure."
The ship's wooden deck creaked beneath their feet as they neared the ship, the scent of fresh tar and seawater enveloping them. The sails flapped lazily in the breeze, like a dragon stretching its wings before flight. The near-by crew moved with practiced efficiency, their rough hands securing lines and adjusting sails, their voices low and steady as they prepared for the journey.
Jace's heart raced, not from the physical exertion of the flight, but from the anticipation of what lay ahead. A new adventure awaited them, and the thrill of the unknown sent a surge of excitement through his veins.
As they neared the ship, the playful mood shifted slightly, replaced by a shared excitement for the journey ahead. Baela jumped onto the ship's railing with the ease of a sailor, her small hands gripping the wood as she balanced herself. The sea breeze tousled her ivory hair, and she looked out over the sparkling water with a sparkle in her violet eyes. When she turned back to Jace, her expression was mischievous, a playful challenge in her voice.
"You sure you're not prone to seasickness like your brother? Growing up in the North and all," she teased, her laughter ringing out, light and confident, carried away by the wind.
Jace, not one to be outdone, puffed out his chest and placed a fist firmly over his heart. His dark hair, already tousled from the hurried flight, danced in the wind. "Don't confuse me with Luke. The journey from White Harbor nearly killed him, but as the Tyroshi captain said, I was born to sail."
Baela's laughter grew louder, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Born to sail, were you? That's quite the compliment from a Tyroshi. But tell me, Jace, how did you manage to impress a seasoned sailor from the Free Cities?"
Jace's grin widened as he joined her at the railing, the ship beginning to sway gently as it pulled away from the dock. The crew, seasoned men who had served under the Sea Snake himself, moved with practiced ease around them, adjusting sails and securing lines as the ship caught the wind.
"It wasn't easy," Jace began, leaning on the railing next to Baela. The salt air filled his lungs, invigorating him as he recalled the tale. "It was during our journey from White Harbor to Dragonstone, just after my father died. Everything was changing so fast, and suddenly we were leaving the only home I'd ever known. I'd been on ships before, but nothing like this one. The captain was a grizzled Tyroshi, with skin like leather and eyes that had seen every inch of the known world. He stood at the helm like he was part of the ship itself, weathered and unyielding."
Jace paused, his gaze distant as he remembered. "He took one look at me, this Northerner bound for Dragonstone, and I could see the doubt in his eyes, he didn't realise am a dragon too, not only a wolf. To him, I was just another highborn boy, soft and useless on the open sea. But I was determined to prove him wrong. I needed to, really. With my world turned upside down, I had to find some way to feel in control."
Baela listened intently, her usual confidence tempered by curiosity. "And how did you change his mind?"
Jace's eyes gleamed with pride. "I told him that a Stark might be born in the cold, but we're made of iron and salt just as much as ice. He laughed, said the only thing Northerners knew about salt was seasoning their food, but I proved him wrong. I spent every waking moment on that ship learning—how to navigate, how to handle the sails, even how to read the stars. By the end of the voyage, he called me his 'little admiral.'"
Baela giggled, imagining Jace as a young boy, determined to prove himself on the open sea. "Little admiral, huh? I bet you loved that."
Jace shrugged, though his grin didn't fade. "It wasn't the worst nickname. And it taught me something important—that you don't have to be born to the sea to master it. You just have to respect it."
Baela nodded, her expression thoughtful as the ship began to pick up speed, the wind filling its sails. The rhythmic sound of the waves against the hull was a soothing backdrop to their conversation. "My grandfather always said the sea was like a dragon—wild, unpredictable, but if you learn its ways, it'll carry you to places you never imagined."
Jace glanced at Baela, catching the slight shift in her tone as she mentioned her grandfather, the Sea Snake. His eyes softened, a mixture of admiration and wistfulness crossing his features. He had heard the tales of Corlys Velaryon's legendary voyages, stories that had filled many a night at Winterfell and later at Dragonstone. The adventures of the Sea Snake were the stuff of legend - distant lands, uncharted waters, and riches beyond imagination.
Though Jace was of Stark blood, with ice in his veins and the wolf's blood running through him, there was a part of him that envied the freedom of the sea. Before Vermax had grown large enough to carry him for long distances, the ocean had represented the ultimate form of exploration and adventure. He remembered the exhilaration he'd felt on that journey from White Harbor, despite the circumstances that had necessitated it.
The North was his father's home, now Luke's when he will reach the majority age. Its vast, snow-covered landscapes and ancient forests are a part of his brother's heritage and his past. King's Landing loomed in his future, the seat of the Iron Throne his mother was heir to, and he's her heir. Dragonstone was his present home, the ancient seat of House Targaryen where he is being raised as a prince and future king. And there were the dragons - Vermax was his companion, a bond that defined him in ways he had yet to discover.
But the sea... the sea had a way of calling to those who dared to answer. It whispered promises of freedom, of escaping the constraints of duty and expectation. Jace felt that call, a yearning that stirred in his chest whenever he stood at the shore or on the deck of a ship. He wanted to dare, to answer that call, to chase the horizon and see what lay beyond.
Yet, he knew his life was set in stone. The path before him was clear - a prince of the realm, a dragon rider, bound by duty and birthright. The freedom of the sea, the kind of life Corlys Velaryon had led, was not for him. It was a bittersweet realization, one that filled him with both resignation and a quiet, persistent longing.
"Your grandfather knew the sea better than anyone," Jace said, his tone respectful. "And he passed that knowledge on to your mother and to you and Rhaena. Maybe that's why you're so comfortable out here, balancing on railings like it's nothing."
Baela's smile returned, softer now, her eyes reflecting the endless horizon ahead. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like the feeling of being on the edge, where the land ends and the adventure begins."
Jace felt a swell of admiration for her. Baela was different from anyone he knew—brave, curious, and full of a spirit that couldn't be contained by castles or courts. As the ship sailed further from Dragonstone, the conversation drifted to lighter topics.
The crew, skilled sailors who had seen many a voyage, kept a watchful eye on the horizon, but to Jace and Baela, it felt as if the world belonged to them alone, two young souls on the brink of discovery, with the wind in their hair and the open sea stretching out before them.
Baela stood beside him, her violet eyes fixed on the waves that danced and shimmered in the sunlight.
"Isn't it fun to see the water cut through the ship?" she asked, bouncing on her feet with an energy that seemed endless. Her ivory hair fluttered in the wind, catching the light as if it were spun from gold. She leaned over the railing, watching with fascination as the ship's bow sliced through the waves, sending sprays of water arcing into the air.
Jace smiled at her enthusiasm, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the sun overhead. "It's like the ship is part of the sea," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Moving with it, not against it."
Baela turned to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Exactly! Like we're in sync with the whole ocean. My grandfather always said the sea has a rhythm, like a heartbeat, and if you listen closely, you can feel it too."
Jace nodded, leaning on the railing beside her. The salt air filled his lungs, invigorating him. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to sense the rhythm Baela spoke of. The gentle rocking of the ship, the sound of the waves lapping against the hull, the distant cry of seabirds—it was all part of something larger, something ancient and powerful.
"You're lucky," he said, opening his eyes to look at her. "You've spent so much time on the water. I've only ever sailed on a few occasions, mostly to and from the North."
Baela shrugged, though there was a hint of pride in her voice. "It's in my blood, I guess. Mother taught us how to sail when we were little, and said it was important to understand the sea, not just conquer it. After her death, Grandfather wants our connection to the sea to stay strong, although Rhaena doesn't like it as much as I do."
"Understand the sea?" Jace echoed, intrigued.
Baela nodded, her expression growing more serious. "The sea isn't something you can control, not really. You have to learn its ways. If you fight against it, you'll lose. But if you go with it, if you learn to move with the currents, you can go anywhere in the world."
Jace absorbed her words, feeling a deeper connection to the sea with each passing moment. It wasn't just a backdrop to their journey—it was a living, breathing force that could either help or hinder them, depending on how they treated it.
"I think I'm starting to understand what you mean," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Like dragons?"
Baela grinned, her playful energy returning. "Exactly! That's why Moondancer and I get along so well. She's small but fierce and she knows when to push and when to pull back."
Jace chuckled but then noticed something—a dark shape on the horizon, growing larger as it drew closer. His excitement faltered, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease.
"Baela," he said, his voice tight with concern, cutting their conversation short, "do you see that?"
Baela turned to look, her carefree expression fading as she followed his gaze. Her violet eyes narrowed, focusing on the approaching ship. It was much larger than theirs, with dark sails that billowed ominously against the clear sky. As it drew closer, the details became clearer—the weathered hull, the shadowy figures lining the deck, the sense of menace that seemed to radiate from the vessel.
"What… what do they want?" Baela's voice wavered, a mixture of confusion and fear creeping into her tone. Despite her training and bravery, the reality of danger was something new and terrifying. She had faced challenges before, but this was different—this was real.
Jace's heart pounded as the realization hit him—she was being targeted. But why? His mind raced, trying to make sense of it. No one had known he was on the ship until he boarded, but Baela's visits to Dragonstone had become a familiar pattern. She had never hidden her comings and goings; in fact, she had been quite open about them, and her frequent visits to the island have been a well-known routine in recent months.
"Pirates from the Triarchy…They're coming for you," Jace said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. His voice was edged with a mix of fear and disbelief. The pirates were coming, and they weren't just random sailors—they had a purpose.
"But why?" Baela asked, her voice small and filled with dread. Her mind raced as she tried to grasp the situation. She knew her family had enemies—her father, Daemon, and her grandfather, Corlys Velaryon, had made their share of foes over the years, and especially the war they start with on the Stepstones—but she probably had never thought that those old grudges would reach her like this, out on the open sea, with no one but a small crew and Jace to protect her.
Jace's gaze flicked back to the approaching ship, now close enough that he could see the rough, weathered faces of the men on board. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm almost certain it's you they're after. No one knew I'm going to be on this ship and no one else is important enough that a ship of pirates will chase..."
The crew of their ship, seasoned sailors who had faced many dangers on the high seas, were already springing into action. Shouts filled the air as they prepared to defend the vessel, but the pirates were moving with alarming speed. Jace could see them arming their crossbows, preparing ropes for boarding. This wasn't just an attack—it was a calculated strike.
"You have to get below deck," Jace urged, grabbing Baela's arm, his voice thick with urgency. But Baela shook her head, her expression hardening.
"No," she said, her voice steadier now. "We will fight." and Jace remembered she was Daemon's daughter, the man his Mother remarried, the Rogue prince, and known to all for his bravery, determination, and fierceness.
Jace hesitated, torn between his instinct to protect her and the reality of the situation. The ship was nearly upon them, and the pirates were clearly out for blood—or worse. But Baela was right. They had to stand their ground, he must protect her.
Baela drew her small thin sword, the steel catching the light as she held it with a determined grip. She was scared—Jace could see it in the way her hands trembled slightly—but there was a fire in her eyes that he recognized. It was the same fire he saw in his reflection whenever he faced a challenge.
"We'll fight them off," she said, her voice stronger now, filled with a determination that belied her fear. "They won't take us without a fight."
Jace nodded, drawing his own sword, the weight of it familiar and reassuring in his hand. "Keep by me side," he said, meeting her gaze. She nodded only once.
The ship rocked violently as the first volley of crossbow bolts struck, splintering the wooden deck and sending the crew scrambling for cover. The acrid smell of burning wood filled the air, mingling with the sharp tang of salt and the coppery scent of blood. Jace ducked behind the railing, his heart pounding as adrenaline surged through his veins. The air was thick with tension, the cries of the wounded and the clash of steel ringing out like a death knell. This was no ordinary raid—the pirates were skilled, determined, and utterly ruthless.
"Stay close!" Jace shouted to Baela over the din of battle, his voice strained with fear and determination. He gripped his sword tightly, the familiar weight of the blade offering some small comfort in the chaos. But even as he tried to focus on the fight ahead, his mind raced with worry for Baela. They were outnumbered, and the pirates were clearly after her.
Baela's eyes flashed with resolve as she tightened her grip on her sword. "I'm not going anywhere!" she called back, her voice steady despite the quiver in her hands.
The pirates were already boarding the ship, their heavy boots thudding against the deck as they swung over on ropes. They moved with deadly precision, cutting down the crew with brutal efficiency. Jace watched in horror as one by one, the seasoned sailors fell under the relentless onslaught. It was clear now—the pirates weren't here for plunder. They were here for captives.
Jace parried a strike from a pirate who lunged at him, the clash of steel ringing in his ears like a thunderclap. He countered with a swift strike, his sword slicing through the air with practiced precision. But the pirate was quick, dodging the blow and coming at Jace again, this time with a knife in his other hand. Jace barely managed to block the attack, his arms trembling with the effort, the hilt of his sword slick with sweat.
Nearby, Baela was engaged in her own battle, her thin sword moving with a speed and grace that belied her age. She was a blur of motion, dodging and weaving as she fended off two pirates at once. But despite her skill, Jace could see that they were being overwhelmed. The pirates were relentless, their eyes gleaming with malice as they closed in on their prey.
"They're trying to capture us!" Jace, his remained her voice filled with a mix of anger and defiance. He slashed at another pirate who came too close, but there were too many of them, and they were playing with him, not attacking in full strength. The deck was swarming with attackers, and Jace could feel the walls closing in around them.
Baela's expression was grim as she ducked under a pirate's swing, her eyes scanning the deck for an escape route. But there was nowhere to go—the pirates had them surrounded. The once solid deck beneath them felt like a trap, closing in with every step. "Keep fighting!" she shouted, her voice edged with desperation, her hands trembling slightly despite her fierce grip on her sword.
Jace knew she was right, but there was little they could do. The crew had been decimated, and the few who remained were struggling to hold off the invaders. The pirates were too many, too well-armed, and too determined. They were closing in on Baela, their intentions clear in the cruel grins they wore.
A pirate lunged at Baela, throwing a weighted net over her. She cried out as the net tangled around her arms and legs, dragging her to the deck. The coarse rope bit into her skin, the weight of it pinning her down. Jace's heart lurched in his chest as he saw her fall. "Baela!" he shouted, rushing to her side, but he was tackled from behind before he could reach her.
Strong arms wrapped around Jace, pinning his arms to his sides. He struggled fiercely, trying to break free, but the pirate's grip was like iron. The stench of sweat and unwashed bodies filled his nostrils, and he could feel the rough wood of the deck pressing against his cheek as he was forced down. "Get off me!" Jace yelled, twisting and kicking, but it was no use. The pirate held him fast, forcing him to watch as Baela was captured.
Baela fought against the net, her sword clattering to the deck as she tried to free herself. But the pirates were too quick. One of them kicked her sword away, while another grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to her knees. Baela's eyes were wide with fear, but she didn't cry out. Instead, she glared up at her captors, defiance burning in her violet eyes, the fire of her spirit unquenched.
The pirate leader, a tall man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward, his boots thudding heavily on the bloodstained deck. His lips curled into a cruel smile as he looked down at Baela. "You've been causing quite a stir, little lady," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. The glint of gold teeth flashed as he spoke, adding a sinister edge to his already menacing appearance. "Your family has made a lot of enemies, and now you're going to pay for it."
Jace's blood boiled as he watched the pirate leader taunt Baela. "Let her go!" he shouted, his voice raw with desperation. His muscles strained against the ropes that bound him now, but the pirate holding him only laughed, tugged the rope and managed to make him fall the the wooden floor.
The leader's gaze shifted to Jace, his smile widening as he took in the prince's defiant stance. "And look who else we've caught. Prince Jacaerys Stark, second in line to the Iron Throne, no less. Seems we've hit the jackpot with you today. Who would have thought that going after the princess will lead to another grand prize."
The hemp ropes bit into Jace's wrists as he thrashed, the rough fibers drawing blood that trickled down his fingers. Salt spray stung his eyes, mingling with sweat that plastered his hair to his forehead. His chest heaved with exertion, each breath a ragged gasp that tasted of brine and fear.
"If you hurt her, I'll—" Jace's voice cracked, betraying his youth and desperation.
The pirate captain loomed over him, a mountain of scarred flesh and tattered finery. His laugh was like steel scraping bone. "You'll what?" He leaned in close, his breath a noxious cloud of rum and rotting teeth. "You're in no position to make threats, boy."
Jace's nostrils flared, fighting the urge to gag. He forced himself to meet the captain's gaze, those pale eyes as cold and unforgiving as the Narrow Sea itself.
"But don't worry," the captain continued, running a calloused thumb along the edge of his cutlass. "We won't kill you. Not yet, anyway. You're worth far too much alive."
A chill ran down Jace's spine, colder than the wind whipping across the deck. Worth too much? To whom? The questions crowded his mind, but one thought burned brighter than the rest – he had to buy time, for himself and for Baela.
Jace squared his shoulders, summoning every ounce of defiance he could muster. "I'll feed you to my dragon."
For a heartbeat, silence reigned. Then the captain threw back his head and roared with laughter, his crew joining in until the air vibrated with their mockery. Jace felt his cheeks burn, shame warring with anger in his gut.
"A dragon, eh?" The captain wiped a tear from his eye, smearing the kohl that rimmed it. "And where might this fearsome beast be hiding? In your pocket, perhaps?"
Fresh gales of laughter swept the deck. Jace tasted blood where he'd bitten his lip, the coppery tang fueling his resolve. They didn't know. They couldn't know about Vermax, about the bond that defied explanation. It was his secret, his advantage – if only he could make them believe.
As the laughter died down, Jace's gaze darted to where Baela was being held, her slender frame dwarfed by the burly pirates restraining her. Her ivory hair, usually so neatly braided, was windswept and tangled. But her violet eyes blazed with a fierce determination that matched his own. Despite the fear etched on her face, there was a fire in those eyes that spoke of her Targaryen blood, of the dragon that lay dormant within her.
"You think I'm lying?" Jace growled, lifting his chin. The ropes creaked as he strained against them. "Ask your men what happened to the fleet you sent to Sisterton."
The laughter died as suddenly as a candle snuffed out. The captain's eyes narrowed to slits, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his weathered face like a cloud over the sun.
"What do you know of that?" he demanded, meaty fingers clenching in Jace's collar. The fabric tightened around Jace's throat, but he refused to flinch.
"I know they never returned," Jace said, each word deliberate as a dagger thrust. "I know their ships were found as charred husks floating in the Bite. And I know why."
A hush fell over the deck, broken only by the creak of timbers and the snap of sails in the wind. The crew exchanged nervous glances, fingers tracing protective symbols in the air. Jace could almost smell their fear, acrid as smoke.
From where she was held, Baela's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and admiration flashing across her face. She knew Jace was bluffing, but the conviction in his voice was enough to make even her doubt for a moment.
The captain's grip tightened, his knuckles white as bleached bone. "You're bluffing," he hissed, but there was a tremor in his voice that hadn't been there before.
Jace leaned in close, his words barely above a whisper. "Am I? Release me and my friend, or you'll find out just how much I'm bluffing when wings blot out the sun and fire rains from the sky."
Baela, catching on to Jace's plan, straightened her spine and lifted her chin defiantly. "You fool," she spat at the captain, her voice ringing clear across the deck. "Do you know who we are? The dragons will come for us, and when they do, your ship will burn like kindling."
For a moment, Jace thought they'd pushed too far. The captain's face contorted with rage, one hand reaching for his cutlass. But then, like a storm breaking, the fury exploded.
The captain's fist struck Jace's face with a sickening crack. Pain blossomed a heartbeat later, radiating from his jaw as the taste of copper flooded his mouth. Jace's head snapped back, vision swimming, the world tilting wildly around him. He blinked hard, trying to clear the stars from his eyes.
"Jace!" Baela cried out, struggling against her captors. Her violet eyes flashed with a mixture of concern and anger. "You bastard!" she spat at the captain, her Targaryen fire burning bright despite their predicament.
The captain's lips curled into a cruel smirk, clearly relishing the power he held over his young captives. He grabbed Jace's chin, forcing the boy to look at him. "Dragons, is it?" he sneered, his breath hot and foul against Jace's face. "I've sailed these seas longer than you've been alive, boy. I've faced storms that would make your little lizards tremble."
He released Jace with a shove, then turned his attention to Baela. "And you, little princess," he taunted, stepping closer to her. "Your pretty face will fetch a fine price, dragons or no."
Baela's breathing was heavy, but she refused to look away from the pirate leader. "You'll regret this," she said, her voice low and fierce. There was a steely resolve in her eyes, a fire that refused to be extinguished. "My family won't rest until they've hunted you down
The captain threw back his head and laughed, a sound as cold and harsh as steel on stone. "I've heard better threats from cabin boys," he boasted, clearly enjoying their helplessness.
Still chuckling, he turned and paced the deck, his heavy boots thudding with each step. Despite his bravado, conflict etched deep lines in his face, making him look older, more vulnerable. Finally, he barked an order to his first mate, his voice hoarse but lined with arrogance:
"Get word to our buyer – the price just went up. If risk went up so as the payments, we're sitting on a fortune... or our doom." He sneered at the last word, as if the very idea of doom was beneath him.
Jace spat blood onto the deck, his defiant glare never leaving the captain's face. The pain throbbed in time with his heartbeat, but he refused to show weakness. Beside him, Baela's eyes blazed with a mixture of concern for Jace and fury at their captors, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.
The pirates dragged Jace and Baela to their feet, the binding of their hands, rough and tight that chafed against their skin. Jace tried to reach out to Baela, but the pirates kept them separated as they were led onto the pirate ship. The realization of their capture hit Jace like a wave of ice. The weight of the situation bore down on him, cold and unforgiving. They were at the mercy of these ruthless men, and he hate that he wasn't able to protect Baela.
As they were forced below deck, into the dark, cramped hold of the pirate ship, Jace glanced at Baela, his heart heavy with fear and guilt. He had failed to protect her. The dim light barely reached the corners of the hold, casting long, eerie shadows that danced with the ship's movement. The smell of mildew and damp wood filled the air, a stark contrast to the open sea breeze they had enjoyed moments before.
But Baela, despite the terror in her eyes, met his gaze with a look of steely determination. Even in the darkness, her spirit shone brightly.
"We'll find a way out of this," she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. The sound of the ship creaking, the distant laughter of their captors, all faded into the background as they locked eyes, sharing a silent vow of survival.
Jace nodded, his face still radiating pain from the place the captain strake him. "We have to," she whispered like a mantra, the weight of their situation pressing down on both of them. "We can't let them win."
The hold door slammed shut behind them, plunging them into darkness. The sound of the sea was muted here, replaced by the creaking of the ship and the distant laughter of their captors. But even in the gloom, Jace could feel Baela's presence beside him, a small comfort in the midst of their nightmare. The warmth of her resolve kept the cold at bay, even as the dark, dank air closed in around them.
The air in the dark, cramped hold was thick with the stench of mildew and damp wood, a suffocating reminder of their captivity. The faint, rhythmic creak of the ship echoed through the oppressive silence, amplifying the sense of isolation. Jace could barely see Baela through the dim light, the shadows cast by the faint flicker of a dying lantern creating an eerie dance on the wooden walls. The cold seeped into his bones, the rough ropes binding his wrists digging painfully into his skin.
Across from him, Baela sat slumped against the wall, her slender frame hunched as she tried to steady her breathing. Her violet eyes, usually so full of life, were clouded with fear, though she fought to keep it hidden. The determination that burned in her gaze was a stark contrast to the despair threatening to overwhelm them both.
Jace shifted uncomfortably, the weight of guilt and frustration heavy on his shoulders. He had failed to protect her—his good sister, the one person he couldn't bear to see hurt. The thought gnawed at him like a persistent ache, one that no amount of bravado could numb.
"Baela," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the creaking timbers. He leaned closer, his dark gray eyes locking onto hers. "We need to get out of here. They're after you—they will want to hurt you because of who your family is. You have to escape."
Baela's eyes flashed with defiance, but there was a flicker of vulnerability there too, one that only Jace could see. "I'm not leaving you, Jace," she replied, her voice firm but trembling at the edges. "We stick together. Like we said."
"I know," Jace said, his tone laced with frustration. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he struggled to keep his voice steady. "But if it comes down to it, you have to go. They'll hurt you, Baela. If you get the chance, you have to take it. Don't worry about me."
Baela shook her head, her expression hardening. "I'm not leaving you behind. We'll find a way out—for both of us."
Jace sighed, the sound a mix of exasperation and concern. He knew better than to argue with her. She is stubborn and fierce, with a spirit that refused to be broken. But the thought of what the pirates might do to her made his stomach twist with dread, a cold knot of fear settling deep within him. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.
The scent of saltwater and damp wood filled the air, mingling with the musty smell of their prison. Jace's mind raced as he searched for a way out, his gaze darting around the hold. The walls were solid, the door reinforced with iron bars. There were no windows, no visible weaknesses—nothing but the oppressive darkness closing in on them.
"Baela," he whispered again, his voice barely a breath in the stifling air. "Start working on the ropes. If we can get our hands free, we might have a chance."
Baela nodded, her hands moving subtly behind her back as she began to work at the knots. Her fingers were nimble but trembling, the ropes biting into her wrists with every movement. The ship's constant rocking made it even harder to focus, the faint sway of the hold a cruel reminder of the vast, unforgiving sea outside.
Time dragged on, each minute stretching into an eternity as they worked in silence, their breaths ragged with fear and anticipation. Jace's heart pounded in his chest, the sound echoing in his ears like a drumbeat, matching the rhythm of the ship's creaking timbers.
Finally, Jace felt the ropes around his wrists begin to loosen. Relief washed over him, a small flicker of hope sparking in the darkness. He bit back a grin, his movements steady as he carefully freed his hands. He didn't dare look at Baela, didn't want to risk drawing attention to what they were doing, but he could feel the tension in the air—the shared understanding that this might be their only chance.
Just as the last knot slipped free, the door to the hold creaked open, spilling harsh light into the dark space. Jace froze, his heart leaping into his throat as a shadow fell over them, the sharp contrast between light and dark momentarily blinding him.
A pirate stepped inside, his silhouette menacing against the light. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the hold, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. "You two still alive in there?" he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. The glint of his blade caught the light, a stark reminder of the danger they were in.
Jace forced himself to remain still, keeping his hands hidden behind his back as he stared up at the pirate with defiance burning in his dark eyes. "What do you want?" he spat, his voice low and edged with anger. The fear that coiled in his gut was a living thing, but he refused to let it show.
The pirate's smirk widened, his steps deliberate as he moved closer. "Just checking on our precious cargo," he drawled, his tone mocking. "Can't have you dying before the captain decides what to do with you."
Jace's mind raced, his body tensing as he prepared to act. If they were going to escape, it had to be now—before the pirate realized they were no longer securely bound. He caught Baela's eye, giving her a barely perceptible nod, a silent agreement passing between them.
The pirate took another step forward, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement as he reached down to grab Baela's arm. "Come on, princess. Let's see how much fight you've got left."
Baela didn't hesitate. She twisted her body, yanking her arm free and slamming her fist into the pirate's face with all the strength she could muster. Jace watched as the pirate stagger back and in that split second of distraction, he sprang into action.
He tore the ropes from his wrists and lunged at the pirate, knocking him to the ground. The two of them struggled, the sound of their scuffle echoing through the hold, but Jace had the advantage of surprise. He managed to land a solid punch to the pirate's jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor.
"Run, Baela!" Jace shouted, his voice rough with urgency and fear.
But Baela didn't run. Instead, she grabbed the fallen pirate's knife, her hands steady as she cut through the ropes binding her own wrists and with a deceive slash cut the parite throat. She then turned to Jace, determination blazing in her violet eyes. "Not without you!"
Jace's frustration flared, mixing with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Baela, you have to go!" he insisted, his voice tight with desperation. "This isn't about being brave—it's about surviving!"
Baela's jaw tightened, her eyes fierce with resolve. "I'm not leaving you, Jace."
Before Jace could argue further, the sounds of hurried footsteps echoed from above. The pirates were coming—likely alerted by the commotion. Panic surged through him, but there was no time to dwell on it. They had to move, and fast.
They bolted for the door, Jace pausing only long enough to grab the pirate's sword from where it had fallen. The weight of the blade felt both foreign and familiar in his hand, a reminder of the battles he'd fought before—but this one felt different. This one felt like a fight for their very lives.
They raced up the stairs, their footsteps pounding against the wooden planks, each step a desperate beat in the rhythm of their escape. Jace could hear shouts from above deck—someone must have noticed the missing guard. But they were close now, so close to freedom.
They burst onto the deck, the cold night air hitting them like a wave of ice. The ship was alive with activity, pirates rushing toward them, weapons drawn, their faces twisted with rage. The sharp scent of saltwater mixed with the tang of sweat and fear, the taste of it bitter on Jace's tongue.
"Get to the lifeboat!" Jace yelled, his voice strained as he blocked a pirate's attack. The clash of steel on steel reverberated through his bones, the force of the blow sending a shockwave up his arm. "Go, Baela!"
But Baela wasn't leaving him. She fought beside him holding the small knife like a long sword, her movements fluid and precise, each strike fueled by the desperation that mirrored his own. They were outnumbered, surrounded, but they fought with a ferocity.
The pirates closed in, their numbers overwhelming. Jace's muscles burned with exhaustion, the weight of his sword growing heavier with each passing second. His heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drumbeat that echoed in his ears, the sound of his own mortality.
"Baela, go!" Jace shouted again, his voice breaking with the strain. "Please, you have to save yourself!"
But Baela's resolve didn't waver. "You're coming with me!" she shouted back, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "We're getting out of this together, or not at all!"
Jace's heart sank, frustration boiling over. They were supposed to be stronger than this, smarter than this. But the reality of their situation crashed down on him like a wave, threatening to pull him under. They had been so close, but now it felt like the walls were closing in again, tighter than ever.
Just as it seemed they were about to be overwhelmed, more pirates surged onto the deck, encircling them. Jace's vision blurred with exhaustion, the world narrowing to the immediate danger surrounding them. The once cold air now felt suffocating, as if the night itself were pressing in on them.
The pirate leader stepped forward, his cruel smile widening as he took in the sight of the two of them, battered but unbroken. "Well, well," he sneered, his voice a venomous whisper. "Seems the little dragon tried to escape. Found out they can't spit fire, don't they?"
Jace glared at the pirate leader, his chest heaving with exertion. The sword in his hand felt heavy, like a burden he could no longer bear. "Let her go! You have me, I'm the bigger prize," he demanded, his voice hoarse with desperation and anger, each word a struggle against the despair clawing at his throat. He stepped forward, trying to place himself between Baela and the pirate leader, his body trembling with the effort to stand tall.
The pirate leader chuckled, a dark, twisted sound that sent a shiver down Jace's spine. His scarred face twisted into a mocking grin as he looked the young prince up and down. "You're in no position to negotiate, boy," he sneered, the amusement in his eyes cold and cruel. "But I'll humor you. What makes you think you're worth more than her?"
Jace's grip on the sword tightened, his knuckles white with the effort. "I'm Jacaerys Stark," he said, his voice low but filled with fierce determination. "Second in line to the Iron Throne. You know what that means? Ransom me, and you'll get more gold than you've ever dreamed of. More than you'd get for her."
The pirate leader's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Ah, but you see, boy, gold isn't the only thing we're after." He glanced at Baela, his gaze lingering on her with a predatory intensity that made Jace's blood run cold. "Your little princess here has something far more valuable—revenge. Her family has destroyed our dream and crash the triachy, and there are those who would pay dearly to see her suffer and me only one of them."
Jace's heart pounded in his chest, the weight of his failure pressing down on him like a vice. He could see Baela out of the corner of his eye, her violet eyes wide with fear, but she held her ground, her chin lifted defiantly despite the terror he knew she must be feeling. The sight of her bravery only fueled his desperation.
"Take me instead!" Jace shouted, the words tearing from his throat with a raw, primal urgency. "Let her go, and I'll come with you willingly. You don't need her. Whatever grudge you have against her family, take it out on me. Just leave her out of this."
Baela stepped forward, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "No, Jace! Don't do this!" Her tone was fierce, her eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and fear. She shook her head, her ivory hair catching the light as she moved. "I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me."
Jace turned to her, his voice pleading. "Baela, please. You don't understand—they hate your family. They'll hurt you just to make a point. You have to let me do this."
But Baela's expression hardened, her defiance unyielding. "I understand more than you think. But I won't let them use you as a pawn."
The pirate leader laughed again, a cruel, hollow sound that echoed across the deck. He stepped closer to Jace, towering over him, his presence dark and oppressive like a storm cloud. "Do you think we're fools, boy? You think you can bargain with us? We know exactly who you are, and we know what you're worth. But your worth doesn't outweigh the pleasure of seeing her father's face when he finds out what we've done to his daughter."
Jace's breath hitched, his heart sinking as the reality of their situation became painfully clear. The pirates weren't interested just in gold or wealth—they wanted to inflict pain, to strike at the heart of those who had wronged them. And Baela was the key to that revenge.
"Please," Jace whispered, his voice breaking as he dropped to one knee, the sword slipping from his grasp and clattering to the deck. His head bowed, the fight draining out of him as he realized just how powerless he was. "Please, just let her go. I'll do anything you ask, just don't hurt her."
Baela's breath caught in her throat as she watched Jace kneel before the pirate leader. Her heart ached at the sight of him, so strong and brave, brought low by desperation and fear for her. She stepped forward, her voice trembling but filled with determination. "If you hurt him, you'll regret it," she spat, her eyes narrowing at the pirate leader. "My family won't rest until they've hunted you down. Let him go, and I'll go with you willingly."
The pirate leader stared down at them both, his expression unreadable for a long, agonizing moment. Then he reached down, grabbing a fistful of Jace's hair and yanking his head up, forcing him to look into his cold, merciless eyes.
"You're pathetic," the pirate spat toward them both, his voice dripping with disdain. "Begging like a dog for scraps. Do you think that'll save her? Do you think your pathetic pleading will change anything?"
Jace winced as the pirate's grip tightened, pain radiating from his scalp, but he didn't pull away. He couldn't—this was all he had left. "I'll do whatever you want," he repeated, his voice a desperate plea. "Just let her go. She doesn't deserve this."
Baela's heart twisted at the raw vulnerability in Jace's voice. She wanted to reach out to him, to offer some comfort, but the pirates surrounded them, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent. She couldn't bear to see Jace like this, so broken and desperate. "Jace, don't—" she started, but her voice faltered, her own fear creeping in.
The pirate leader's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, it seemed as though he was considering Jace's words. But then his expression hardened, and he shoved Jace away with a snarl, sending him sprawling to the deck.
"You're not in control here, boy," the pirate leader hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you can bargain with us? You're nothing. Less than nothing. We'll take what we want, and you'll watch helplessly as we do. Return them bellowed deck!"
Jace's vision blurred with tears of frustration and despair as he lay on the cold, splintered deck, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. He had tried, he had offered everything he had, and it hadn't been enough. He had failed to protect Baela, and now they were both at the mercy of these monsters.
Baela's eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back, refusing to show weakness. She moved closer to Jace, her voice shaking but filled with resolve. "We'll find a way out of this," she whispered fiercely, her hand brushing against his as they both sat on the deck, defeated but not broken.
The pirate leader turned his back on them, gesturing to his men when the other didn't move to do as he ordered the first time. "Bind them both and take them below. We'll deal with them later." He glanced over his shoulder at Jace, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. "Don't worry, boy. You'll get your chance to try and play the hero soon enough."
As the pirates closed in, their rough hands grabbing Jace and hauling him to his feet, Baela fought against the ropes, her defiance refusing to fade. "You won't win," she hissed at the pirate leader, her voice filled with all the fury she could muster. "Our family will come for us. Sooner than later."
The pirate leader smirked, unbothered by her threats. "Let them come, let your father come on see what's left of you" he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. "We'll be ready."
The darkness in the hold felt oppressive, wrapping around them like a suffocating blanket. The air was thick with the scent of salt, mildew, and damp wood, mingling with the bitter tang of sweat and fear. Jace's chest heaved with the effort to control his emotions, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His wrists throbbed where the ropes had bitten into his skin, a constant, painful reminder of their failed escape.
He could barely make out Baela in the gloom, but her presence beside him was undeniable—a small, comforting anchor in the overwhelming sea of despair. Her breathing was just as labored as his, each breath a testament to the fierce struggle they had just endured. The silence between them stretched heavy and thick.
Finally, Jace could bear it no longer. The frustration and despair that had been simmering beneath the surface burst forth, his voice cracking with the raw edge of his emotions. "Why didn't you run?" he demanded, his tone harsh, almost accusatory. He turned to Baela, his dark gray eyes searching hers in the dim light, desperate for an answer. "You could have escaped, Baela! You could have gotten away!"
Baela met his gaze, her violet eyes fierce and unyielding despite the exhaustion etched on her face. There was a fire in her eyes that refused to be extinguished, a defiance that had carried her through the terror of the battle. "I told you," she whispered, her voice steady and resolute despite the tremor that ran through it. "I'm not leaving you behind. Never."
Jace clenched his fists, the rough rope around his wrists digging painfully into his skin. The frustration that had been gnawing at him now turned inward, transforming into a heavy, aching guilt. "But you could have been free," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, each word weighted with the enormity of his regret. "You should have been free, if not for yourself, then to get help. But Baela, you're a girl... you know what they do to girls in captivity. They rape them." His voice cracked, the horror of the thought nearly choking him. "Those pirates hate your father and grandfather. We don't know what they'll do to you! They could kill you at any moment!"
Baela's expression softened, the hard lines of determination giving way to something gentler, something more vulnerable. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly as she placed it on his arm, the warmth of her touch a stark contrast to the coldness of their situation. "Jace," she said softly, her voice laced with the tenderness that had always been there between them, "I couldn't leave you. I wouldn't. I just... we have to find another way."
Jace's frustration ebbed, replaced by a deep, aching sadness that settled in his chest like a lead weight. He lowered his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he struggled to find the words. The silence between them was thick with unspoken fears and the overwhelming sense of what could have been. "I just... I can't stand the thought of them hurting you," he admitted, his voice breaking with the weight of his emotions. The image of what the pirates could do to her haunted him, a nightmarish specter that he couldn't shake.
Baela shook her head, her grip on his arm tightening slightly, offering him a small but steadying comfort. "And I can't stand the thought of leaving you," she whispered back, her voice filled with quiet strength that belied her own fear. "We'll get through this, Jace. We'll find a way out. But we do it together."
The hold was silent again, the weight of their words settling between them like a solemn vow. The cold, oppressive darkness seemed to recede slightly, as if the warmth of their connection had pushed it back, if only for a moment. Jace lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers once more. The fear was still there, lingering in the shadows of his mind, but maybe even hope."
Jace nodded, hoping to seem firmer now, yet fear remained. He knew the road ahead would be fraught with danger, and if he had to push her to freedom alone at the cost of his own, that is what he would do.
The darkness in the hold had deepened with the passing hours, the once faint light from the small cracks in the wooden walls now barely a glimmer. Jace and Baela sat close, their backs against the cold, damp wood, the silence between them heavy with unspoken fears. The ship swayed gently, the rhythmic creaking of the timbers the only sound in the oppressive stillness.
Jace had lost track of time, his mind a swirl of anxiety and exhaustion. He kept glancing at Baela, her face pale but resolute, her violet eyes staring into the darkness. The weight of his failure pressed down on him, making it difficult to breathe. He wanted to protect her, to make her run, but now, here they were—captured, helpless, and at the mercy of pirates who hated her father.
The sound of footsteps approaching the hold's door snapped Jace out of his thoughts. He tensed, instinctively moving closer to Baela as much as the rope let him, his heart pounding in his chest. The door creaked open, and the pirate captain stepped inside, his presence filling the small space with a palpable menace. His height and broad-shouldered, his face weathered and scarred make his figure more terrifying than his eyes that glinted with malicious intent.
"Well, well," the captain sneered, his voice low and mocking. "How are my two little prisoners holding up?" He sauntered forward, his gaze lingering on Baela, eyes wandering all over her body, a cruel smile curling his lips.
Jace's blood ran cold as the captain's eyes roved over Baela with an unsettling hunger. He clenched his fists, the ropes biting into his skin, but he forced himself to meet the captain's gaze, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and defiance. "Leave her alone."
The captain chuckled darkly, clearly amused by Jace's attempt at bravery. "Oh, don't worry, boy. I'm not going to hurt her... much." He reached out, his hand grazing Baela's shoulder, and Jace's heart lurched with dread.
Baela flinched but held her ground, her eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and fury. "Don't touch me," she hissed, her voice steady despite the quiver in her hands.
The captain's smile widened, his hand moving to the collar of Baela's dress, his fingers playing with the fabric. "Fire spirit," he murmured, his tone dripping with cruelty. "Let's see how long that lasts." With a sudden, vicious yank, the captain tore a part of Baela's dress, revealing the most part of her shoulder, the fabric ripping loudly in the confined space.
Jace's heart dropped into his stomach, his fear turning into a cold, seething rage. "Stop it!" he shouted, struggling against his bonds. But the ropes held fast, and the captain merely laughed, enjoying the torment he was inflicting.
Baela's face flushed with a mix of fear and terror, but she refused to look away. "You'll pay for this," she spat, her voice shaking with barely contained anger. "My Father will make sure of it."
The captain's eyes glinted with malice as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Let him try," he whispered, his tone a vile mockery of her threat.
But before he could do anything further, a sudden, deafening battle cry echoed through the ship, followed by the unmistakable roar of a dragon. The sound was so fierce, so powerful, that it seemed to shake the very timbers of the ship. As the dragon was furious, or his rider. The captain froze, his hand still clutching Baela's shoulder ,his eyes widening in shock.
Jace's heart soared with a sudden rush of hope, the despair that had gripped him moments before now giving way to a fierce determination. He shifted closer to Baela, his voice a whispered reassurance. "That sounds like Caraxes," he murmured, his voice trembling with a mix of relief and fear. "We're going to be okay."
The sounds of battle raged outside—the clash of steel, the shouts of men, and the terrifying roar of the dragon, growing louder and more furious with each passing moment. The ship rocked violently as if caught in the midst of a storm, and the scent of smoke began to fill the air.
The captain's expression twisted with fury, his grip tightening on the torn fabric as he turned back to Baela, his eyes blazing with anger. "This isn't over," he snarled, but before he could do anything further, the door to the hold was thrown open with a force that nearly tore it off its hinges.
Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the flickering light of the burning ship outside, was Daemon Targaryen, flanked by Lord Corlys Velaryon and a group of battle-hardened men. Daemon's presence was like a force of nature—fierce, commanding, and utterly terrifying. His eyes burned with a fury that sent a chill down Jace's spine, and the sword, dark sister, in his hand dripped with the blood of those who had dared to stand in his way.
Behind them, the sounds of battle continued to rage as Corlys' men clashed with the remaining pirates on deck. From above, the roar of a dragon echoed again, and Jace knew it was Arrax this time, with Luke flying overhead, ensuring that no pirate would escape the wrath of the Targaryens and Velaryons.
"Step away from my daughter," Daemon growled, his voice low and deadly.
The captain's bravado crumbled in an instant, his face paling as he released Baela and stumbled back, his eyes wide with terror. Before the captain could react, Daemon struck with lethal precision. The blade, Valyrian steel, flashed through the air, and in one swift motion, the captain's life ended, his body crumpling to the ground in a pool of blood.
Baela let out a shaky breath, her entire body trembling as she turned to Jace, her eyes wide with a mixture of relief and shock. Jace pulled her close, his heart pounding in his chest as he held her, the warmth of her presence grounding him in the midst of the chaos.
Daemon's gaze softened as he looked at Baela, his fierce expression giving way to one of concern and protectiveness. He crossed the small space to them, his voice low and rough as he spoke. "Are you both all right?"
Baela nodded, tears welling in her eyes as she clung to Jace. "We are now," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Jace looked up at Daemon, his gratitude and respect clear in his eyes. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Daemon gave a curt nod, his gaze lingering on the two of them for a moment before he turned back to the door. "Let's get you both out of here," he said, his tone brooking no argument.
As they followed Daemon out of the hold and onto the deck, the full extent of the battle became clear. The pirate ship was in flames, the deck littered with the bodies of the fallen, and above them, Arrax circled, his scales gleaming in the firelight. Luke swooped low, ensuring the last of the pirates had no chance of escape.
Corlys Velaryon, his presence as commanding as ever, directed his men with precision, ensuring that the ship was secure. When he spotted Jace and Baela, his eyes softened, and he made his way toward them, relief evident in his gaze.
"You both fought bravely," Lord Corlys said, his voice firm but warm. "But now it's time to return home."
He glanced at Daemon and Corlys, the men who had saved them, Jace couldn't help but feel a newfound respect and admiration. These were the men who had fought through fire and blood to save them, and their actions had taught Jace a valuable lesson about the true meaning of family and loyalty, even a through marriage, his second family.
The crew of Corlys Velaryon's ship moved about the deck, their tasks subdued, the adrenaline of the fight fading into the exhaustion of victory.
Jace and Baela sat together on the deck, away from the others, their backs resting against the ship's railing. The cold night air was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the firelight that flickered across their faces. Baela shivered slightly, her dress torn and frayed, a stark reminder of the horrors they had just endured.
Jace, his hands now free from the ropes that had bound him, reached out to gently straighten the torn fabric of Baela's dress, his fingers trembling slightly as he did so. A swirl of mix emotions mixed in his stomach as he struggled to keep in check.
Baela watched him quietly, her violet eyes softening as she took in the bruises and cuts on his face and hands. Her own ordeal had been terrifying, but seeing Jace like this—so determined, so protective—made her feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and affection, more than before.. "You don't have to do that," she said softly, but there was no protest in her voice, only a gentle acceptance.
"I want to," Jace replied, his voice low and filled with a tenderness that surprised even him. His eyes focused on the fabric. "I should have protected you better."
Baela shook her head, reaching up to gently touch his cheek, her thumb brushing over a small cut just below his eye. "You did protect me, Jace," she whispered, her voice filled with conviction. "You were brave, and you were there for me when I needed you most."
Jace looked into her eyes, his own filled with a mix of emotions—guilt, relief, and something deeper, something he couldn't quite name. he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I was going to lose you."
"You didn't," Baela said firmly, her fingers lingering on his cheek, offering him the comfort she knew he needed. "You saved me, Jace. And I could only be brave because you were there with me."
The quiet moment between them was interrupted by the sound of wings flapping, followed by a soft thud as Luke landed on the deck with Arrax. The younger brother looked winded but determined, his eyes scanning the ship until they found Jace and Baela.
Luke approached them quickly, his face a mix of relief and worry. "I knew something was wrong when Vermax return to the Dragonpit, but you didn't " he explained, his voice slightly breathless. "I sent a raven to Driftmark as soon as I realized Jace must have gone with you, Baela. When we didn't hear back and your ship never reached the shore, we knew something had happened. I'm just glad we found you in time."
Jace nodded, his gratitude toward his younger brother evident in his gaze. "You did good, Luke. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come."
Luke gave a small, almost shy smile, clearly uncomfortable with the praise but relieved nonetheless. "We're family," he said simply, as if that explained everything, looking at Baela as well.
Corlys Velaryon soon joined them, his presence as commanding as ever. His silver hair, streaked with white, caught the fading sunlight, and his sea-green eyes sparkled with a mix of wisdom and concern. He looked down at the two young ones, his expression a mixture of pride and worry etched into the lines of his weathered face.
"You both showed great courage today," he said, his voice deep and resonant, carrying the weight of his years at sea. "But the loss of the ship, the ambush—it's a reminder of the dangers that still lurk out there."
Jace and Baela exchanged a glance, the weight of Corlys' words settling heavily on them. Jace's dark hair was matted with dried blood and sea salt, his gray eyes tired but determined. Beside him, Baela's ivory hair, though tangled and wind-swept, still caught the light like spun silver. Her violet eyes, a stark reminder of her Targaryen heritage, flickered between her grandfather and her cousin.
Jace, his face still bruised and his body aching, cleared his throat. "Lord Corlys," he began, his voice hoarse but determined, "before I forget, I have a message to deliver." He paused, gathering his strength. "Lord Staunton sends his regards."
Corlys raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his weathered features. The sun glinted off the golden seahorse pin fastening his cloak. "Lord Staunton? Interesting timing for such courtesies." He stroked his beard thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving Jace's face. "And what, pray tell, prompted this message?"
Baela, still standing close to Jace, looked between her grandfather and her cousin, her brow furrowed in confusion. Her slender frame seemed to sway slightly with the sea breeze. "Lord Staunton? Isn't he the one who you visited in Rook's Rest—"
"Yes," Corlys interrupted, his tone measured. His rings caught the light as he gestured. "The very same. It seems our young prince here has been busy even before your little adventure." He turned his full attention back to Jace.
Jace stood as tall as his aching body allowed, his grey eyes meeting Corlys' sea-green gaze. "My lord," he began, his voice a mix of exhaustion and determination, "I was at Lord Staunton's keep when word reached me of your visit. He... he bade me convey his regards." Jace paused, stealing a quick glance at Baela, her ivory hair gleaming in the fading light. "I can't help but wonder if he knew more than he let on. About my intentions, about..." he trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken.
Corlys' weathered face creased in thought, his eyes narrowing as he processed Jace's words. Then, unexpectedly, a knowing smile spread across his features, softening the lines etched by years at sea. "Ah," he chuckled, his voice warm with understanding. "It seems old Staunton has a keener eye than I gave him credit for." He turned his gaze to the horizon, where the setting moon painted the sky in hues of silver. The light caught his silver hair, surrounding him in an almost mystical glow. "He saw what was in your heart before you did, lad. Clever man, that Staunton."
"But first, let's get you both tended to. The maester is waiting, and there will be time for tales once you've rested."
As Corlys moved away to tend to other matters, Baela turned back to Jace, her eyes searching his. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with a deep sincerity. "For everything. I don't think I could have made it through without you."
Jace shook his head, his voice soft but firm. "You don't need to thank me, Baela. You were the brave one. I just... I just did what I had to."
Baela smiled, a small, tender smile that lit up her face despite the exhaustion etched into her features. "I could only be brave because you were there," she repeated, her voice steady. "You made me feel safe, Jace. And I don't know how to thank you for that."
Jace felt a warmth spread through him at her words, a warmth that chased away the lingering cold of fear. He reached out, taking her hand in his, holding it gently as if she were something precious.
Baela squeezed his hand, a silent understanding passing between them. The night was still, the sounds of the sea a soothing backdrop to the moment they shared.
The first light of dawn crept over the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow across the still waters. The remnants of the night's terror seemed almost distant now, as if the rising sun had pushed the darkness back to the far corners of the world. The crew moved about the deck with quiet efficiency, their voices low, the weight of the previous hours still heavy on their minds.
Jace and Baela stood side by side near the ship's bow, the cool morning breeze brushing against their faces. The air was fresh, carrying with it the scent of salt and seaweed, a welcome contrast to the stench of battle that lingered in their memories. They both looked out at the vast expanse of water before them, their thoughts a tangle of emotions—relief, exhaustion, and a quiet, steely resolve.
"We are reaching Dragonstone soon," Jace said, his voice calm but filled with a new sense of determination. "I hope they know we're safe." His hand still held Baela's, a gesture that had become a source of comfort for both of them.
Baela nodded, her eyes fixed on the horizon, where the sky met the sea in a seamless blend of blue and gold. "It's not over, is it?" she asked softly, though the question was more a statement of understanding than one seeking an answer.
Jace shook his head, his gaze steady. "No. But whatever comes next, but it will be soon." There was no hesitation in his voice, only the quiet certainty that had grown between them in the face of danger.
As the decked at Dragonstone, Corlys Velaryon approached them, his presence as commanding as ever, though his expression was softer than usual. "We need to head to Driftmark," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "Baela has been through enough for one day. It's time to go home."
Baela turned to Jace, her eyes searching his. There was a moment of silent communication between them, a shared understanding that this wasn't truly goodbye, but merely a pauser. "I'll see you soon," she said, her voice steady despite the emotion that lingered beneath.
Jace nodded, his hand giving hers a final, gentle squeeze before letting go. "Take care, Baela," he said, his voice filled with the warmth of their bond. "I'll come visit on Vermax."
As Corlys led Baela toward the ship that would take them to Driftmark, Rhaena appeared on deck, her expression a mixture of relief and quiet concern. She crossed the distance to her sister quickly, wrapping her in a brief but tight hug. "You scared me," Rhaena murmured, her tone slightly reproachful, but there was no mistaking the love in her voice.
Baela smiled softly, returning the hug with equal affection. "I'm sorry, Rhaena. But I'm okay now." There was a pause, then Baela added, "Jace was with me. He... he made sure I was safe."
Rhaena glanced at Jace, her expression cool but not unfriendly as always. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—perhaps gratitude, or perhaps just a quiet acknowledgment of what Jace had done. "I'm glad you were there," she said simply before turning her attention back to Baela. "Be careful, grandfather calls you," Rhaena said, her voice a mix of love and concern. She glanced meaningfully between Jace and Baela, a knowing look in her eyes that belied her young age. The family resemblance between the twin sisters was striking, though Rhaena's demeanor was noticeably more reserved than Baela's.
As they prepared to the pair parted, Baela cast one last look over her shoulder at Jace, a small smile playing on her lips. It was a smile that held a promise, one that spoke of their shared experiences and the bond that had only grown stronger through adversity. Jace returned the smile.
Baela boarded the ship that would take her to Driftmark. Jace watched as the sails were unfurled, the ship catching the morning breeze and beginning its journey home.
As the ship moved away, Jace remained at the bow of the Velaryon vessel, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the sea met the sky. The events of the night had changed him, deepening his resolve and strengthening his sense of duty. He knew that greater challenges lay ahead, but he also knew that he would not face them alone, he had his family and Baela.
Rhaena sighed, her slender shoulders rising and falling with the motion. She tucked a stray strand of silver-gold hair behind her ear before turning away from the scene the pair painted. Her violet eyes, so like her sister's, scanned the courtyard until they landed on Luke.
Luke was lurking nearby, trying and failing to appear casual as he leaned against a weathered stone pillar. His dark hair, so different from his Targaryen kin, fell across his forehead as he attempted to hide the bashful smile playing on his lips. He had been watching Jace and Baela with curiosity.
As Rhaena approached, Luke straightened, his cheeks flushing a light pink. His dark eyes, so unlike the Targaryen violet, darted between Rhaena and the retreating forms of Jace and Baela.
"They're always together, aren't they?" he murmured, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.
Rhaena nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "They are," she agreed, her tone a mixture of fond exasperation and understanding. She tucked a stray silver-gold lock behind her ear, her violet eyes meeting Luke's. "Though I suspect some might say the same about us before long."
Luke's face broke into a mischievous grin, his earlier bashfulness melting away. "Oh? And what of the gossip about us, my lady? I hear it's quite... interesting." He took a step closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
Rhaena raised an eyebrow, a spark of amusement in her eyes. "Is that so? Last I checked, I don't recall agreeing to any life-long commitments. Perhaps the gossips are getting ahead of themselves."
Luke's grin widened, a playful light dancing in his eyes. He dropped to one knee dramatically, taking Rhaena's hand in his. "Then how would you have me, my lady? Shall I make a formal declaration here and now? I could shout it from on top Arrax if you prefer."
Rhaena couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and melodious. She glanced around, noting the curious looks from passing servants. "Hush, you fool," she said, though there was no bite to her words. "If you truly wish to ask, you know the proper way. Though I wonder if you have the courage to face my father."
Luke's bravado faltered for a moment, a flicker of genuine nervousness crossing his face. "Your father... right. The Rogue Prince himself." He stood, still holding Rhaena's hand. "I'd face a thousand dragons for you, you know. Though your father might be more terrifying than all of them combined."
Rhaena's expression softened, and she squeezed Luke's hand gently. "And that, my dear Luke, is why I find you so endearing. Your gentle bravery... and your foolishness." She leaned in, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Come now, let's find those Strawberry cakes before Cregan devours them all."