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The Prince and the Dragon Rider - Part Seven: The Rift

Jacaerys Velaryon x dragon rider!reader

Summary: while still reeling from your first day in King’s Landing, you must come to terms with the command given during your private conversation with Princess Rhaenyra.

Warnings: angst, anxiety/panic attacks

part one: the oath

part two: tempest

part three: the dawn

part four: the test

part five: precipice

part six: pieces and players

soundtrack - listening recommendations:

• triassic love song by Paris Paloma • I’d Have to Think About It by Leith Ross • putting a spin on good luck, babe! by Egg • Call Your Mom by Noah Kahan •

After making your way through the endless maze of The Red Keep, and finally finding your newly assigned chambers within the palace, you sat in the stillness trying to calm yourself. Though you’d have likely found more rest if you had continued to wander. The opulence of the vast, unfamiliar space only made you feel more isolated and out of place.

With no other anchor to cling to as you try to soothe your heartache, your mind drifts to your mother.

Six short years of life by her side gave you little insight into the kind of person she was, or the kind of person she hoped you’d be. She was likely kind, and certainly clever, but what you knew without question was that she was incomparably fierce. In your bleakest moments on your journey with Tempest, you’d holdfast to the memory of her strength, using it endure whatever challenges you faced.

Surviving life’s hardships was your way to honor her sacrifices. And though, you told yourself that she’d be proud of who you’d become, you’d always pondered what kind of life she’d have wished for you if survival hadn’t been her primary driving force. If she’d been given the opportunity to be carefree and gentle, what kind of person would that have made you. Surely she wanted more than mere survival for you, but was the life you sold yourself to what she’d have wanted for you? Were you still honoring her memory?

Which was why, as fierce as you had made yourself and as hard as you fought to prove your worth within a realm of dragonlords, you also strived to preserve some of the softness within you that she was denied. If there was hope that you’d be able to find a peaceful life, you wanted your heart to be able to receive it.

However, as you sit alone with an ache so powerful it feels as though your chest has been set alight, you begin to despise your effort to protect that tenderness. If all you were meant to do was simply become a pawn in someone else’s game, what use was there for softness? What need was there for love?

You are so consumed by your thoughts that you do not hear the soft knock at your door or the quiet footsteps that tiptoe across the room as you lie motionless on top of your bedding. When Jace whispers your name from the foot of the bed, it takes you a moment to realize it is not in your head.

“Are you alright?” he whispers slightly louder, voice laced with concern. “I returned to the godswood and you had already gone.”

You sit up slowly, avoiding his eyes, and fold your legs beneath you, keeping your gaze fixed on the fabric below. After a beat and no response from you, you hear him shuffle around to the side of the bed.

“What did my mother speak to you about?” He asks quietly and your breath hitches.

He takes notice and moves to sit at the edge of the bed. Unable to bring yourself to voice the Princess’s command, you force yourself to look up and find his gaze in the dark. His eyes widen at your disheveled state and he darts a hand out to grasp yours.

“What happened?” He asks in a frantic whisper. “What’s wrong?”

You close your eyes and take your hand from his, steadying yourself with a shaky breath before finding your voice.

“I have been instructed to keep my distance from you,” your voice cracks, hoarse from hours of silence following your onslaught of tears.

“By who?” He moves closer to your face to see you clearly, “My mother?”

You sigh deeply and nod your head, he stands from the bed suddenly and you watch as he begins to pace the floor.

“She believes the nature of our companionship could be called into question, thus, jeopardizing your prospects for alliances through marriage.” You mutter.

“I fail to see why anyone would concern themselves with such speculation. You are my friend. Where is the fault in that?” He huffs and continues to pace back and forth.

“Jacaerys,” you say softly, “look at us. The closeness of our friendship is no secret to anyone, but what if you were to be discovered here? Alone in my chambers in the dead of night?” He stops in his tracks, as if this is the first he’s considered this, “Accusations and assumptions would not be difficult to form.”

“Why should it matter what they say, if it isn’t true?” He mumbles, staring intently at the floor.

“It doesn’t matter what they say or what they think,” You stand, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to contain the sorrow building within, “but I cannot allow them to turn me into a weapon to be used against you.”

His head snaps up in your direction, the confusion plain on his face as you continue.

“Look at why we’ve travel all this way in the first place. There are always going to be those looking to undermine and discredit someone in your position. Whether you admit it or not, you know our friendship could harm you and your standing. I will not risk being complicit in your pain.”

“And what of the pain that your absence would inflict? Why must we be forced to choose between happiness and duty?” He pleads and steps toward you.

“Your mother tried to have both, did she not?” You say plainly and he finds your eyes before placing his hands on your arms.

“Yes but this is different, there has to be a way,” there is a desperation in his voice that you have not heard before that breaks your heart even further, “Why must her mistakes determine our future? We can find our own path.”

You step closer and unfold your arms, taking hold of his hands as he makes to pull them away.

“The moment I took my oath, I knew I was giving up my right to my own path, Jace. For a time, it was easy to forget the larger roles we would be called to play. It felt like we could have both…” your voice trails off as you absentmindedly run your thumbs across the backs of his hands, “But the pieces are moving. And we must take our place.” Your voice wavers, if there were any tears left in your body they would be flowing freely.

He looks down at your clasped hands, gripping them tighter.

“But I can’t lose you.” He utters before returning his gaze back to yours, tears beginning to form in his deep brown eyes, “If I am to walk this horrid path then I only wish to do it with you by my side.”

You both stand quietly in the darkness, searching each other’s eyes, letting his words hang in the air around the two of you.

A hushed gasp leaves his lips and he takes a step back. Eyes wide and hands trembling as they leave yours. You cross your arms over your chest, taking a ragged breath which causes Jacaerys to take half step forward. Raising a palm in protest, you step away.

“Please go,” you sob softly.

He opens his mouth slightly, a question forming on his lips.

“Please, Jace,” you interrupt as sternly as you can manage, “I can’t.”

He closes his mouth and stares at you for a moment, unmoving, eyes locked on your face. Involuntarily, he begins to walk towards the door, still watching you intently, conflict and confusion becoming clearer upon his face with every step away from you. You nod silently once he reaches the door and with one last pained glance he exits your chambers, once again leaving you in solitude.

You retreat back to the bed and collapse into the fabric, curling up on your side as the tearless sobs begin to rack your body once more. Cursing the tenderness you have allowed to blossom there. As you desperately will the pain into numbness, you are at last given some relief as you are mercifully pulled into a dreamless sleep.

You awake with the dawn in a daze, taking a moment to remember where you are as you look about your unfamiliar surroundings. Once your mind is fully pulled from the fog of sleep, you stand from the bed and make your way across the room, trying to stretch your tired muscles as you pull fresh clothes from your bag.

As you rummage through your belongings, the red cloak you were gifted when you were sworn into service comes to the surface. You look upon it quietly for a moment before retrieving your other items of clothing and rushing back to the bed to dress yourself, doing your best to stomp out the sparks of anguish that its appearance brings forth.

Dressing yourself slowly and deliberately, you keep your mind focused on each step, trying to avoid inciting any further emotional responses. However, the red of the cloak makes that task all the more difficult as it lingers in the periphery of your vision. After fully dressing you dart back to the bag, intent on burying the cloak deep within, but a knock on the door stays your hand for the moment.

A handmaiden enters and offers you a bow.

“The Lady Baela,” she announces and backs out through the door as Baela steps forward.

“Good morrow, y/n,” she says with a bright smile.

“Good morrow, my Lady,” you bow stiffly, “how can I be of service?”

She walks forward, looking over your chambers until she spies a small table then turns back to you.

“I thought we might break fast together before we make our way to the throne room for the petitions,” she grimaces slightly at the mention of today’s events, “I imagined my cousins would be occupied with other affairs and didn’t want you to be left behind.”

The thought of the Princes causes a twisting pain in your chest but you do your best to smile politely.

“Thank you,” you mutter, “that’s very kind of you.”

She makes her way across the floor to stand next to you, a mischievous glimmer in her eye.

“I wondered if you might tell me about your travels as well,” she quirks a brow inquisitively, “Rhaena has already told me so much but I’d love to hear them from you if you’re willing to share?”

“Rhaena has told you about me?” Your brow furrows as you register her words.

“She has,” she chuckles lightly at your expression, “in letters and through most of the night, in fact.”

“That is surprising,” you say, taken aback by this revelation, “I thought she despised me.”

“She may,” she shrugs, rolling her eyes at her twin,“but more than anything she hates what she was denied. When we lived in Pentos, we had heard rumors of the wild sea dragon that lurked in the waters. For a time, Rhaena had plans to find it and claim it for herself before our mother died.”

You reel back in disbelief.

“I was unaware I had such a reputation,” you breath a laugh, a genuine smile growing at the corner of your lips.

Baela smirks and nods her head.

“You and your dragon have made quite a name for yourselves,” she takes you by the crook of the arm, “I look forward to testing mine and Moondancer’s mettle against yours one day.”

“I look forward to that as well, my Lady,” you nod in agreement.

Another knock rings out and more servants enter with platters of warm food.

“Shall we?” She asks and gestures towards the table where the meal has been placed.

“Yes please,” you say with a grateful sigh.

Conversation with Baela flowed effortlessly, bringing an ease to your soul as the two of you swapped stories over the meal. The relief was much too short lived however, as once the servants had cleared the table, Baela’s handmaiden steps forward.

“It’s time, my Lady,” she informs the two of you and you freeze in place.

Baela sees the change in your demeanor and thanks her handmaiden before she stands and moves to offer her hand to pull you from your seat.

“We’ll be along shortly.” She calls with a nod before returning her attention to you.

Her eyes soften and she sighs quietly.

“My mother used to say that The Red Keep was poisonous, but that poison could not harm a dragon.”

You take her hand and she pulls you to your feet.

“You may not be the blood of the dragon. But you certainly have the heart of one,” she smiles softly meeting your eyes to ensure you understand, “Don’t let them take that from you.”

You take a deep breath and stand at attention.

“Are you ready?” She asks calmly.

“Yes,” you pause, looking back to your belongings, “just give me one moment.”

You step over to your bag pull the cloak free, swinging it over your shoulders in one swift motion before affixing it with a black dragon clasp. Returning to Baela’s side, she beams proudly and links her arm through yours.

“Onwards, Dragon Rider.”

• @freefallthoughts @eywas-heir

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justhereforxreaders · 1 month

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The Prince and the Dragon Rider - Part One: The Oath

Jacaerys Velaryon x dragon rider!reader

Summary: after three years of peaceful living on Dragonstone, Prince Jacaerys stumbles upon an answer to his growing anxieties of mastering dragonriding. But when this new companion is discovered prematurely, how will the Princess respond?

Warnings: mentions of blood loss and wounds

soundtrack

part two: tempest

part three: the dawn

part four: the test

part five: precipice

part six: pieces and players

part seven: the rift

You stand silently in the throne room of Dragonstone awaiting judgment while a storm rages outside the black stone walls. Two kingsguard are posted at the large doors opposite the throne. Their eyes fixed on your small, shivering frame. A flash of lightning followed closely by the crack of thunder causes you to jump and one of the kingsguard calls out to you from across the room.

“We said be still!”

You nod curtly and continue to stare out the windows at the rain. Tears begin to flow against your will as another bolt of lightning strikes nearby and you try your best to remain still.

This is not what I wanted. You think to yourself, reflecting upon the events that led you to be separated from your dragon and now, possibly, from your closest friend.

Jacaerys Valeryon had discovered you and your dragon living within the natural caverns beneath the fortress of Dragonstone nearly four moons. The two of you became quick friends, meeting in secret to train one another. He had witnessed your skills on dragonback firsthand when he and Vermax happened upon you and your dragon one morning before the sun had risen. Your deftness alone would have been enough to impress the young Prince but after watching the two of you dive into the sea to escape their curious pursuit, he knew he needed to seek you out. In exchange, he had offered you the chance to hone your skills in combat. Being common born, your abilities with a blade were much more crude than those of the knight trained prince. You relished the opportunity to learn how to properly defend yourself.

You are pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the ornate doors swinging open. A small procession of colorful lords file into the great hall surrounded by armored knights that begin to peel off in pairs to stand along the walls as they approach. The last two take positions on either side of you. Once the guards are in their places, a caller steps forth to announce the silver haired woman standing alone in the doorway.

“Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, first of her name, heir to the Iron Throne!”

The caller bellows throughout the room while the woman walks with purpose through the grand hall to take her place upon the throne. Once seated she meets your gaze. You cast your eyes down to the black stone below.

“This council has been brought together to address the matter of this child’s involvement in the endangerment and injury of my son, the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon,” her voice becomes shaky when she says his name but she does her best to gain her composure before addressing you directly, “What do you have to say in your defense?”

You hesitate for a moment, steadying yourself with a breath while trying to remember what you had intended to say. But when you look up to see tears welling up in the Princess’s eyes, only one thought fills your mind.

“Is Jace going to be alright?” You ask timidly.

“That does not answer the Princess’s question, child,” snaps a silver haired man standing below the throne. “We want to know how this happened.”

The Princess’s eyes remain fixed on you. She examines you carefully as you wipe the lingering tears from your face and begin recounting everything.

“The Prince and I have been training together for quite some time.” The Princess raises an eyebrow at this but you continue, “We flew out to practice on dragonback this morning when the wind rose up quickly around us. We couldn’t outrun the storm and when it consumed us, we were both thrown into the sea. The dragons were nowhere to be seen, whisked away by the tempest, so we began making our way to shore but-” you shutter and grow silent, remembering the deep wounds carved into your friend’s shoulder. “Jacaerys had been injured. I believe Vermax may have tried to take hold of him as he fell. He lost consciousness during the swim and I carried him the rest of the way.”

Once the words leave your mouth there is a beat of silence before you begin to sob, the horror fresh in your mind of Jace going limp in your arms. You can barely hear the low murmurs that flurry around the room until the Princess brings them all to a halt.

“How could you be training on dragonback? Were you both astride Vermax?” The Princess calls down to you from the throne, her tone shifting from sorrow to accusatory.

You freeze while the tears continue to pour. Jace had recently begun trying to convince you to reveal yourself to his mother. He was certain you would be offered a proper bed to sleep in but when the subject of revealing your dragon was brought into question, he was unsure of how the Princess and her second husband would respond to someone outside their blood to being bonded to a dragon. The discussion ended shortly after expressing this to you.

Now faced with this dilemma, without Jace’s guidance, you decide to remain honest. Still holding onto the glimmer of hope that you will find acceptance and refuge among this family.

“No, Your Grace, I was riding my own dragon.”

Amidst the uproar, the man with silver hair draws his sword and storms down the steps toward you.

“Who are you to have claimed one of our dragons? We should have your hands you thief!”

“Daemon, no!” The Princess shouts and the room falls silent once again.

The man stops his advance but his sword is still drawn in your direction.

“I am no thief,” you manage to say with a quivering voice. “My mother was an acolyte of the priests of R’hllor on the outskirts of Asshai. When I was six years of age, a lord came to our temple to enlist the help of the red priests in hatching a dragon egg.”

Another round of concerned whispers echo throughout the hall.

“I know not who the lord was or where he acquired the egg. It made no difference as during the ritual the temple caught fire, leaving myself and my dragon as the only survivors to emerge from the ashes. We had been traveling west across Essos together for nearly eight years until she finally led me to this island four moons ago.”

The man, who you now identify as Daemon, looks you up and down and begins speaking a language you cannot understand. When he meets your eyes and sees your confusion, he scoffs and turns to Princess Rhaenrya. They have a brief exchange in the foreign language before they are cut off by a frantic man in robes entering the room.

“The prince has awoken,” he exclaims, out of breath.

Rhaenyra immediately stands and makes haste to the door, followed closely by her guard. However, Daemon stays put in front of you.

“We shall reconvene at a later time,” the Princess calls over her shoulder as she exits the room. “See this child placed in a room under watch until-“

“Wait, no!” You cry out, interrupting the Princess. With the relief of knowing that Jacaerys is alive and conscious, the fear of your dragon’s safety fills the entirety of your being. “Please let me return home! I need to know if my dragon is safe.”

Her and Daemon make eye contact above your head.

“We cannot allow you to leave until a decision can be made,” she says plainly, a slight look of remorse flashes across her face, before she disappears out the door without a second glance.

The lords disperse around you. All except Daemon who still stands with his sword drawn.

“How do you command a dragon of you do not speak High Valyrian?”

“I don’t,” you reply, confusion evident in your voice, “I have been at her mercy since she grew large enough to ride. I have simply trusted her instincts.”

He chuckles lightly, “I wonder then, if you were to make a command of her, would she return that sentiment? Would she trust your instincts? Is she truly bonded to you? Or were you a convenient mean for survival?”

He sheaths his sword and walks away from you, taking a seat on the steps below the throne. The guards at your sides escort you out of the hall, leaving Daemon’s questions to rattle around in your mind.

- - - - -

Dragon-riding was an art that did not come naturally to Prince Jacaerys. He had been so relieved when his family left King’s Landing, as it meant he no longer would be sharing dragon keeper lessons with his spiteful uncles. This relief was short lived however, as once Vhagar had been claimed by Aemond, a frantic drive to master the sky filled his entire being. Once Vermax became large enough to ride, he trained often and obsessively, stealing the joy from what was previously a childhood dream of the young prince. Until he began training with you.

Although he initially approached your training with the same urgency, he soon found an unexpected solace riding alongside you. With you, it never felt like a burden or duty. It felt like freedom. It felt like peace. You had turned the sky into a safe haven.

Which is why the sight of you being thrown from your dragon in the middle of that storm was on an endless loop in his mind while he fell in and out of consciousness. Despite the pain of the maesters working on his wounds, he wouldn’t allow himself to be pulled into sleep until he knew you were safe. Thankfully, once their work was complete and the discomfort from their treatment had ended, he was able to fully recover his mind from that haunting vision.

He sat up slowly in his bed, head still spinning, to see the maesters cleaning up their instruments.

“What happened? How did I get here?” He mutters.

The maesters whip their heads towards the prince at the sound of his voice and the room buzzes back into action.

“Inform the Princess!” Grand Maester Gerardys commands to the room before taking place at Jace’s bedside. “Steady, my Prince, the wound is freshly stitched and you’ve lost much blood.” He attempts to help the boy back down but Jace protests.

“No,” he mumbles, using his good arm to weakly bat away the Grand Maesters hands. “Tell me what happened.”

Gerardys sighs. “You were found wounded on the beach with a stranger who refused to leave your side.”

The rest of the memory flashes through Jace’s head. The gust of wind and rain that ripped him from his dragon’s back, the pain of Vermax’s claws in his shoulder, finding you in the cold water, your arm around his body as he grew even colder.

“Where is y/n?” His eyes snap open.

“Taken before the council to face judgment for your endangerment.” The maester gives up the fight with his stubborn patient and returns to his supplies laid out on the table.

“But-” Jacaerys begins before being cut off by his mother.

“Jace!” She cries as she burst through the door and runs to his side, embracing him as gently as she can manage.

“Mother, where is y/n? They have done nothing wrong, they saved my life.” He takes a moment to catch his breath after the words tumble out of his mouth. Still struggling to keep his grip on the waking world.

Rhaenyra releases her son and she looks over him. Her face grows stern at the mention of your name, which she had neglected to ask for.

“And why was your life at risk in the first place? Who is this dragonrider that you’ve kept secret from me? And why trust a stranger to train you over Daemon or myself?”

Jacaerys turns away sheepishly, trying not to dive too deeply into the sliver of joy he had found in your presence. “Y/n is my friend, not a stranger. As well as a skilled dragonrider.”

“How could you know that Jace? How do we know this isn’t a trap set by our enemies?”

He considers this briefly. Trying to determine how he can convince his mother that you are not a threat to them. Wishing desperately to cite the countless occurrences of your trustworthiness and honor that he has already witnessed. But he knows that it is not just his mother that he is speaking to. He is also speaking to the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And the Queen cannot afford to place that much faith in the feelings of a young man. So instead, he decides to respond like a future king.

“Why would our enemies want us to gain such a powerful advantage? Supplying our cause with a large dragon and a masterful rider does them no favors.” Prince Jacaerys states.

Rhaenyra is taken aback by Jace’s strategic thinking. She looks over his face and ponders his words while tracing the healed scar down her arm. A bitter reminder of her own betrayal by someone she once held dear.

“Do you trust this person with your safety? With the safety of your family?” Rhaenyra questions, her eyes momentarily welling up against her will.

Jacaerys meets her gaze and nods solemnly. The Princess grabs her son’s hand tenderly.

“If this to be our decision; to allow an outsider to inherit the power of our house…” she pauses, trying to find the right words. “Then this not an ally we can afford to lose. And we must ensure their loyalty to my claim to the throne, as well as your own.”

- - - - -

The room you are placed in offers little comfort while you wait for your fate to be decided. Housed high in the tower, it sways ever so slightly with the wind. Exhaustion from the events of today combined with the gentle motion of the room threaten to lull you to sleep but the distress at being away from your dragon for the first time in years keeps you from finding any rest. You sit on the hard floor with your back up against the wall, facing the door, counting the seconds between lightning strikes and rumbles of thunder.

A knock on the door startles you and you spring to your feet as a kingsguard steps through the doorway followed closely by Princess Rhaenyra. You notice her face appears less grim than it had been in the throne room. She examines you from head to toe then finds your eyes. They soften ever so slightly before she speaks.

“Jacaerys is resting and the maesters are confident he will make a full recovery.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and nod at the Princess’s words but the worry still lingers on your face. She continues.

“We have also received word that Vermax has returned to the dragonmont with a large black dragon in tow. Both weary but seemingly unharmed.”

You gasp as though this is the first real breath you’ve taken all day and place your hands over your eyes as tears flow freely down your face. Their intensity dies down, however, as you recall the Princess’s final words to you in front of her council. A new dread fills your stomach.

“And what is to be done with me?” You ask in as neutral a tone as you can manage, dropping your hands from your eyes but still staring intently at the stone below.

The Princess lets out a heavy sigh and takes a step closer to you.

“We would ask that you swear an oath of loyalty. Declare fealty to House Targaryen and to myself as heir to the Iron Throne. And for this you will be granted permission to serve our house as a dragonrider.”

You shake your head, trying to comprehend her words.

“And what would my service entail? What would be expected of me?”

“The same that I ask of every lord and lady sworn to me. As well as every member of my family that commands a dragon; that should this house become threatened, they will heed the call to arms and meet the enemy with fire and blood.” Her voice becomes foreboding as she recites the words of her house. Indicating to you that this is less of a choice you are being offered, and more a sentence that you are being served.

“Though I hope such a need will never come,” she adds, trying to lighten her tone.

Your thoughts turn to your dragon and the years you have spent protecting each other. You may not speak the same language but you know you trust her with every fiber of your being. And, although the gods may have left a foul taste in your mouth for prophecy and purpose, you do believe she chose you as her rider for a reason. If taking this oath is the only way you can continue to be allowed to live alongside your dragon, then so be it.

You raise your head, sparing a quick glance at the kingsguard, before your eyes meet with the Princess’s. “I am at your service, Princess.”

“We are glad to have it, y/n.” She says with sincerity. “The hour has grown late, let us see you to a more suitable chamber.” She turns and begins walking out the door, beckoning you to follow.

You fall into line behind her down the winding stairs.

“Once you are settled,” she calls over her shoulder, “if you are not spent, I can take you to the dragonmont.”

You nod fervently and small smile flashes across her face.

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #hotd #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x you #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys x y/n #friends to lovers #slow burn #queer yearning #nonbinary reader #dragon rider

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