#jon's not afraid to use his baby advantages to their fullest

[syndrossi]

Não sei se entendi muito bem como está funcionando os pedidos, mas vou pedir algo que estou louca pra ler.

Em Regnal, reação da família ao descobrirem que os gêmeos foram sequestrados.

Ou melhor ainda, reação ao descobrirem que os gêmeos são imunes ao fogo. Estou ansiosa pra ler sobre a reação de Jaehaerys e suas suspeitas sobre a profecia.

I decided to go with Jaehaerys reacting to the twins' fireproofness!

x~x~x

“You are certain?”

His son nodded, arms tightening around his twin grandsons, who were sitting quietly in his lap. His face was pale and haggard, as though he had not slept in days—not unlike his very brief visit to King’s Landing shortly after the twins’ birth, when he had come for the dragon eggs.

Baelon the Brave, his son was called, yet grief and loss had stolen that carefree surety. It would make him a better king, Jaehaerys suspected, but it had hollowed out the man.

“I saw their cradle after. It was burned near to ash, and yet there was not a mark upon them when Daemon pulled them from the fire.” Even the retelling seemed to drain his son, though a tug at his collar by his namesake did draw a faint smile. He kissed his grandson’s head. “I am sorry, Jon, you shall have ample time to gnaw upon your father’s hair later.”

“How did Daemon fare?” His grandson had looked hale enough when greeting him, and only half as sullen as when last they had spoken.

“He avoided the worst of it in his haste. I feared for his hands, but they seemed to suffer no worse than if the sun had burned him.”

That in itself was noteworthy. Jaehaerys’s eyes shifted to the candle upon his desk, and he saw Baelon tense once more. “I must see for myself,” he said.

“Do you call me a liar?” his son demanded.

“You knew that it would be necessary,” Jaehaerys admonished, “or you would not have brought them alone.”

“I brought them alone because my good-daughter would gut you for even suggesting it, Kingsguard or no.”

“Nevertheless,” he said, holding his arms out for the younger child, Aemon.

He truly did have the look of Jaehaerys’s second son, purple eyes alert and watchful as they returned his gaze. Jaehaerys carefully removed the babe’s shoe and stocking on his left foot, then slowly brought it toward the candle’s flame. As he did so, the babe’s twin brother let out an unholy screech, causing him to flinch back in momentary surprise.

Baelon hurriedly rocked him, but the other babe’s arms and legs were flailing wildly in protest. Jaehaerys made quick work of his task, holding Aemon’s foot to the flame. The babe showed no discomfort, other than what might have been concern over his brother’s disconsolate wailing, and when he pulled him back, the skin of his was not even reddened. Jaehaerys stared, running a finger over the skin.

It is a song of fire, for certain, but what of the ice?

Jaehaerys gave the babe back to Baelon, along with his shoe and stocking, and took his twin next. His wailing had ceased upon the return of his brother, but his brow was etched in a fearsome scowl as Jaehaerys took him in his arms. It was all too easy to see the babe’s father in him, despite his Royce coloring.

He made it as difficult as possible for Jaehaerys to bare his foot, his sticky hands grabbing and pulling at his beard while his legs wriggled. But finally, he was able to repeat the test, to identical results.

The babe’s squirming had finally stopped, his grey eyes steely with challenge as they locked upon Jaehaerys’s. His instincts failed him, recognizing too late that young Baelon was preparing to spit up, and it dribbled down the length of his beard.

“I sired thirteen children,” he informed the babe, unable to set aside the suspicion that it had been intentional. “I assure you, I have suffered worse.”

A washing basin was brought to him, and a servant carefully washed and combed his beard clean while his great-grandson watched. Jaehaerys dismissed the servant then, along with the sole Kingsguard who had remained in the room.

“What does it mean?” Baelon asked once he had finished the task of putting the other babe’s shoe back on.

Jaehaerys did not know. Aegon’s prophecy had spoken of one prince, not two, and he had no notion of what the ice in question might be. The mountains of the Vale?

But the signs were unmistakable. One or both of the children must be Aegon’s promised prince.

And yet Viserys is Baelon’s heir, not Daemon. Daemon who himself had not suffered the full effects of retrieving his sons from a burning cradle. Are there signs that I missed before?

He had been considering it regardless, given Aemma’s difficulties carrying a child. An heir with two sons was preferable to one with only a daughter. Aemon and Baelon themselves had been proof of that.

“It means that we must speak of the succession.”