#;prince of dragonstone {jacaerys velaryon} | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

r0ugesun · 5 months ago

Text

The Great War

Beta read by @moonstruksandco 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾

Chapter 1 (1/?)

Synopsis: On Dragonstone, tensions rise as war looms on the horizon and the Targaryen family braces for conflict. Jacaerys discovers y/n, his enigmatic stepsister, secretly training with their formidable father, Daemon Targaryen. Initially at odds and harboring deep seated resentment, Jacaerys and y/n’s relationship evolves from adversaries to reluctant allies. As they confront their shared secrets and familial expectations, they find themselves drawn to each other.

Warnings: slow burn infidelity(sorry baela)period accurate misogyny eventual smut

Jace Velaryon x Reader

Drāñe aōha nykeōragon! (Widen your stance!)

Adere! (Faster)

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting an amber glow across the gardens of the Red Keep. The air was rich with the fragrance of blooming roses, their petals kissed by the evening dew. Within the shadows of the castle walls, a solitary figure moved with grace and precision, the sound of clashing steel echoing through the corridors.

Y/n targaryen, the last daughter of Daemon and Laena, had grown accustomed to the isolation her father's overprotectiveness had imposed. As the youngest and final remnant of her mother's legacy, she bore the weight of her father's undying devotion and his refusal to let her be betrothed. Unlike her sisters, who had dragons and betrothals to occupy their thoughts, y/n had been denied these privileges no her rights, her father's fierce love turning to a cage of golden bars.

In the stillness of the training yard, she faced her father, their swords a blur of motion. Daemon, the Rogue Prince, had been her mentor for years, y/n held a sword in her hand before she even learned to walk, his rigorous training instilling in her a mastery of the blade that rivaled the finest knights of Westeros. Their practice sessions were a secret kept from prying eyes, a testament to Daemon's belief in her strength and his desire to keep her hidden from the suitors who sought her hand.

"You must be quicker, daughter" Daemon admonished, parrying her strike with ease. "Your opponent will not grant you the luxury of hesitation."

Y/n's eyes narrowed, her lips forming a determined line as she pressed her attack, their swords ringing out in the twilight. She was a vision of fierce beauty, her movements a dance of deadly elegance. It was in these moments, away from the court's scrutiny, that she felt truly alive.

She stepped back, adjusting her grip on the hilt, her muscles taut with effort and determination. Each clash of their blades sent vibrations through her arms, but she did not falter.

"Ao vāedis!" (You hesitate!) Daemon's voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding. His eyes, a mirror of her own, bore into her with intensity.

"Ao rūs!" (You retreat!)

Y/n growled, a sound of frustration and resolve mingled, as she advanced once more. This time, she let her instincts take over, her body moving with the fluid grace of a dragon in flight. Her sword sliced through the air, a deadly arc aimed at Daemon's side. He barely had time to deflect it, his lips twitching in approval.

"Better" he murmured, their swords locked together in a struggle of strength.

With a swift movement, he disarmed her, sending her blade skittering across the stone floor. Y/n stumbled back, her chest heaving with exertion.

"Again," he commanded, not giving her a moment's respite.

Y/n retrieved her sword, her mind racing. She needed to find a way to break through his defenses. The moon had risen high, casting a silvery light over the training yard, illuminating their fierce battle.

As they resumed their sparring, Y/n could feel the burn of fatigue creeping into her limbs, but she pushed it aside. This was her chance to prove herself, to show her father that she was not just a daughter to be protected, but a warrior to be reckoned with.

Their movements became a blur of speed and precision, the clang of steel filling the night air. With a final burst of energy, Y/n feinted to the left and then swung her blade in a wide arc, catching Daemon off guard. The tip of her sword rested against his chest, a triumphant smile curling her lips.

Daemon looked down at the blade, then up at his daughter, a rare smile breaking through his stern demeanor. "Well done." He said “but-”

and Daemon’s smile was fleeting, quickly replaced by a serious expression. voice carrying both pride and challenge, "-not quite enough."

Before Y/n could react, Daemon moved with a sudden burst of speed. He sidestepped her blade, bringing his own sword up in a sweeping arc that left her no room to maneuver. With a flick of his wrist, he disarmed her once more, sending her sword spinning away.

Y/n fell to her knees, panting heavily, her body drenched in sweat. She looked up at Daemon, her face a mix of frustration and respect. "You *pant* beat me… again" she said, her voice trembling with fatigue. No matter how skilled a warrior she thought she was, six men or sixty, he is still Daemon Targaryen. Or so the saying goes.

Daemon extended a hand to her, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "I know what you’re capable of. You have the blood of the dragon, but you need to hone it into something more than mere fire. Strength alone won’t win battles."

Y/n took his hand, allowing him to help her to her feet. Despite her exhaustion, a flicker of determination sparked in her eyes. "I understand" she said, her voice firm. "And I will continue to fight, to become better, until I surpass even you."

Daemon’s gaze held hers, a mixture of challenge and pride evident. "Then keep fighting" he said.

—————————————

Jacaerys sat in the grand common room of Dragonstone, his attention flickering between Baela’s animated chatter and the expansive view of the island’s rugged landscape through the window. The day had turned gray, with clouds rolling in over the sea, casting a dim light over the stone walls. Baela’s voice, though pleasant, faded into a gentle murmur, its rhythm lost against the backdrop of his restless thoughts.

“...and then Ser Greyjoy said—” Baela’s words trailed off as she noticed Jacaerys’s distracted gaze. She studied him for a moment, a hint of concern in her eyes. “Jace, you seem miles away. Are you feeling unwell?”

Jacaerys shook himself from his reverie, offering a polite, if lackluster, smile. “Uh yes, Baela. Just….a bit weary. I think I’ll take a stroll before dinner.”

Baela’s brow furrowed slightly, but she nodded. “Very well. I’ll see you later.”

With a polite nod and a murmured farewell, Jacaerys rose from his seat and exited into the cool, dim-lit corridors of the castle. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of salt and stone as he meandered through the labyrinthine passages. His footsteps echoed softly against the ancient walls, a rhythmic counterpoint to his wandering thoughts.

Jacaerys continued his aimless wander through Dragonstone, seeking solace from his mounting boredom. His footsteps echoed softly against the ancient stone, the castle’s grandeur lost on him as he drifted through its labyrinthine corridors. The chill in the air hinted at the coming of a storm, and the gray light seeping through the narrow windows did little to lift his spirits.

As he rounded a particularly dim and winding corridor, he stumbled upon a concealed door, partially obscured by a heavy tapestry. Curiosity sparked, he pushed it open, revealing a hidden staircase descending into shadows. He stared at the weathered stone, its been abandoned for gods knows who how long, should he leave? Alert a guard maybe? Driven by a sudden intrigue, Jacaerys made his way down, his steps echoing softly underfoot.

At the bottom of the stairs, he found himself in a secluded training area, its walls lined with worn, wooden dummies and scattered practice weapons. The room was illuminated by a few flickering torches, casting long, dancing shadows across the stone floor. The sound of clashing swords filled the air, sharp and rhythmic, each strike echoing with the intensity of a serious duel.

Jacaerys edged closer, his heart quickening with anticipation. Through a narrow opening, he glimpsed the source of the commotion. Y/n and Daemon were engaged in a fierce training session, their swords moving with a fluidity and precision that left Jacaerys utterly breathless.

Y/n’s form was a revelation—her movements were both powerful and graceful, each strike and parry executed with a mastery that belied her royal status. Sweat glistened on her brow, and her violet eyes were alight with fierce determination. She wielded her sword with a natural ease, her skill evident in every fluid motion.

Daemon, for his part, matched her with his usual blend of skill and intensity, his focus unwavering as he guided her through the relentless practice. The dynamic between them was electric, a testament to both their expertise and the depth of their training.

Jacaerys watched from the shadows, utterly mesmerized. The sight of Y/n, a princess so adept in the art of combat, was both astonishing and captivating. She moved with a raw, unrestrained energy, each clash of swords sending a thrill through him. Her dedication and strength were palpable, breaking the mold of what he had expected from someone of her rank.

Unable to tear his eyes away, Jacaerys remained hidden, his fascination growing with every moment. The intensity of the training session unfolded before him, leaving him awestruck by Y/n’s sheer skill and determination.

the clashing of swords continued, Jacaerys remained concealed in the shadows, his eyes never leaving Y/n. The way she moved was almost hypnotic, she seemed to embody the very essence of a warrior of a dragon, each movement fluid and deliberate. The torchlight cast flickering patterns on her face, highlighting the fierce concentration in her eyes as she parried Daemon’s relentless attacks.

Daemon, despite his usual stoic demeanor, displayed a rare warmth in his gaze as he watched Y/n. It was clear that their training was more than just a lesson, it was a mutual respect, a shared passion for the art of combat. Jacaerys could see the bond between them, an unspoken understanding that transcended mere instruction.

Y/n’s breaths came in measured bursts, her face flushed with exertion but her spirit unbroken. Each time Daemon disarmed her, she would swiftly retrieve her sword, her resolve unshaken. It was as if she was fueled by an inner fire, a drive to prove herself beyond the constraints of her royal title.

Jacaerys could scarcely believe what he was witnessing. The sight of a princess so engaged in combat, with such raw and unfiltered skill, was both shocking and awe-inspiring. His admiration grew with each passing moment, the image of her unwavering focus and strength imprinted on his mind.

As the training session drew to a close, Y/n’s movements slowed, her fatigue evident. She took a moment to catch her breath, wiping the sweat from her brow. Daemon approached, his expression one of quiet pride, and extended a hand to her. Y/n grasped it, allowing him to help her to her feet with a tired but triumphant smile.

Jacaerys, still hidden, felt a pang of regret that he had not revealed himself. The moment was too intimate, too profound, to intrude upon. Yet he was overwhelmed by the urge to learn more about this remarkable new side to the princess who defied every expectation.

As Y/n and Daemon walked away, Jacaerys emerged from his hiding place, the hidden training ground now feeling like a precious secret he had stumbled upon. He retraced his steps, his mind racing with the revelation of Y/n’s skill and the realization that she was not just a mere princess but a formidable warrior.

________________________

As Jacaerys took his place beside Baela, the grand dining hall was alive with the clinking of silverware, the low murmur of conversation, and the rich aroma of the feast. Rhaenyra sat at the head of the table, her regal presence commanding respect, while Daemon loomed at the far end, his imposing figure a constant reminder of his authority.

But Jacaerys was anything but focused on the feast. His mind was a whirlwind, consumed by the revelation of Y/n’s true nature. Seated a few places away, she engaged animatedly with Daemon, her relaxed demeanor concealing a fierce intensity that left Jacaerys utterly stunned. He struggled to maintain his composure, his heart racing as he tried to anchor himself in the present, focusing on Baela beside him.

Baela, clearly noticing his distraction, leaned in with a hint of irritation. “You’re unusually distant today, Jace. What’s on your mind?”

Jacaerys forced a strained smile, his mind still reeling from the discovery. “Just a bit distracted, Baela. Nothing to worry about.”

Baela’s gaze followed his distracted line of sight to Y/n. “You seem particularly absorbed in Y/n. You’ve hardly interacted with her before.”

Jacaerys’s mind was in turmoil, grappling for a coherent explanation. “She… she seems different tonight. I’m not quite sure what to make of it.”

Baela’s expression grew sharper. “Y/n has always been somewhat aloof, and her attitude towards you has been especially cold. So what’s changed with her my prince?”

Jacaerys’s cheeks burned as he struggled to compose himself. “I didn’t realize… I suppose I’ve never had much reason to engage with her.”

As if on cue, Y/n glanced up from her conversation with Daemon and caught Jacaerys’s gaze. Her eyes narrowed, and a sneer formed on her lips. “If you’re going to stare, might I suggest you find a less conspicuous way of doing it?”

Jacaerys’s heart raced, and he quickly looked away, his face flushed crimson with embarrassment and panic. He cleared his throat, his voice shaky. “My apologies, Y/n. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Baela’s tone was clipped as she observed his reaction. “It’s clear she’s not fond of your attention. Maybe you should focus on our conversation.”

Jacaerys shifted in his seat, his mind still reeling. “Yes, of course.”

As the evening progressed, Jacaerys struggled to stay present. His thoughts kept spiraling back to the shocking realization, Y/n was not just the aloof youngest sister of his betrothed but a fierce warrior who could likely best the finest knights. The weight of this revelation was almost too much to bear. His heart pounded, his mind raced with questions, and he felt an overwhelming sense of urgency and confusion. Balancing his engagement to Baela with this newfound, intense fascination for Y/n was a struggle that left him grappling with a storm of emotions, trying desperately to appear calm while his internal world was anything but.

_______________

Jacaerys lay in his bed, the luxurious sheets offering little comfort as he stared up at the canopy, his mind a tumultuous storm. The room was dim, illuminated only by the flickering light of a solitary candle, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Despite the late hour, sleep eluded him. Every time he closed his eyes, visions of Y/n swam before him, a relentless tide of thoughts he couldn’t control.

He had seen Y/n countless times over the years, always regarding her as inconsequential, just another member of the extended family. But tonight had shattered that illusion. The memory of her fierce intensity, her casual yet commanding presence, played over and over in his mind. His heart still raced with the revelation that she was so much more than he had ever imagined.

“Seven hells,” Jacaerys muttered, turning over in bed for what felt like the hundredth time. The shock of seeing her sparring, her skill and strength evident, had turned his world upside down. How had he missed this? How had he been so blind?

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will away the thoughts, but they only grew stronger. Her fierce eyes, the way she had sneered at him, the effortless grace in her movements—these images were seared into his mind. He realized that her aloofness, her distance, had all been an act. The real Y/n was formidable, a force to be reckoned with.

The realization was both exhilarating and terrifying. His mind raced with questions. Had anyone else known? Had baela and rhaena? How long had she been hiding this side of herself? And why?

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being an intruder, someone who had stumbled upon a closely guarded secret. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that his perception of her had been completely wrong. She wasn’t just the youngest sister of his betrothed, she was a warrior, and he had to know more.

He had an insatiable desire to understand her, to learn more about the real Y/n. The very thought made his heart pound even harder.

———————-

Rolling out of bed, jace knew he couldn’t wait until morning. He had to confront her, to get answers. Pulling on his clothes with a sense of urgency, he left his chambers, navigating the dimly lit corridors with purpose.

He made his way to the same tapestry from earlier and pulled it back to reveal the hidden stairwell. It was eerily quiet, the moon casting a silvery glow through the cracks of the ceiling illuminating over the grounds. His heart raced as he approached, hoping to find her there.

Sure enough, there she was. Y/n stood alone, her sword in hand, practicing her forms with a precision that took his breath away. She moved with the fluidity of a dancer and the deadly intent of a warrior.

Jace ventured forth, his footsteps hesitant yet purposeful. His heart pounded in his chest, driven by an insatiable curiosity that would not be quelled. He watched her, mesmerized, as she wielded her sword with a grace that belied its lethal intent.

He stepped forward, the gravel beneath his feet betraying his presence. Her head snapped up, eyes widening in shock before narrowing into a glare of cold fury. "Jacaerys!? What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice a mix of surprise and irritation.

"I-I couldn't sleep" he stammered, advancing tentatively. "I saw you slip away and... I followed you."

She blinked, the incredulity plain on her face. "Why? What possesses you to intrude upon my solitude?"

"I just... I had to know," he mumbled, his gaze faltering under her scrutiny. "Why you're training like this. Why in secret."

"It is none of your concern" she retorted, lowering her sword yet maintaining a stance of wary readiness. "Leave, jacaerys."

But he remained steadfast, words tumbling from his lips in a desperate attempt to explain. "No, I mean... I want to understand. This side of you... it’s different."

Her eyes flashed with a tempest of anger. "You ought not to be here. How did you even find me?"

He shrugged, still fumbling for coherence. "I just... I was talking with baela and then took a walk and the tapestry was there and you-, and... I don't know, I followed it down. And, um... I saw you training with Daemon the other day, you were incredible really" he added, an awkward laugh escaping him. "I didn't mean to spy, but—"

She cut him off, her voice seething with fury. "You spied on me with father? You have no right—"

"I know, I know" Jace interjected, hands raised in a gesture of placation. "But I was curious, I had no idea I would find you here. You are….exceptionally skilled, and I wanted to comprehend why you kept this hidden."

Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, knuckles white with anger. "You had no right to follow me or to spy on me. This is my business, not yours. Leave at once."

"…No," Jace said, though his voice quivered with uncertainty. He reached for a sword from the rack, clutching it tightly. "I… I want you to train with me."

A flicker of surprise crossed her face, quickly replaced by a scowl. "You think you can match me? Very well. But if I win, you leave me alone. Forever."

Jace nodded, determination flickering in his eyes despite the apprehension. He took his stance, readying himself. As they squared off, he was acutely aware of the disparity in their skills. He had been trained by Ser Harwin and his father, Ser Laenor, both formidable fighters. Yet, the difference in their skill became glaringly apparent as soon as the duel commenced.

She moved with a fluidity and precision that seemed almost effortless. Jace, while not unskilled, found himself struggling to keep up. Her blade was a blur of motion, each strike landing with an ease that belied her skill. Jace’s attempts to block and parry were clumsy in comparison, his sword heavy in his hand, his movements less coordinated.

With a deft sidestep, she evaded his clumsy counterattack, her blade flicking out to land a sharp, stinging blow against his side. Jace grunted, stumbling back as he tried to regain his footing. He tried to press the attack, his strikes intended to be forceful and precise, but she anticipated and dodged each one with practiced grace.

Her training under Daemon was evident in every movement. Her speed and control were extraordinary, a product of years of rigorous instruction. Jace, despite his own solid training, was outmatched by the sheer finesse of her techniques. His blade wavered as he fought to keep pace, his breath coming in short, labored gasps.

She continued her relentless assault, her strikes not only precise but delivered with a speed that left him barely able to react. He attempted to anticipate her moves, but she was always a step ahead, her sword flashing through the air with a deadly grace that rendered his defenses ineffective.

Finally, with a decisive strike, she disarmed him, sending his sword clattering to the ground. He fell to one knee, panting heavily, his face flushed with exhaustion. Her blade hovered above him, a clear indication of her superior skill.

"Stay away from me" she commanded coldly, her voice laced with a fierce finality.

Jace, still on the ground, looked up at her with a mix of admiration and frustration. He nodded, breathless and defeated. "I’ll let you be…. For now."

With a final, disdainful glance, she turned on her heel and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. Jace remained where he was, his resolve both tested and strengthened by the encounter. The duel had not only shown him the breadth of her training but also deepened his determination to understand the enigmatic warrior.