Princess Jorlyn Hightower, sister of Alicent Hightower and daughter of Ser Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King. A young spirit with a mind of her own, quite the opposite of her younger sister, if I'd say so. A mind of her own that had decided to st...
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Jorlyn Hightower, sister of Alicent Hightower and daughter of Ser Otto Hightower, the hand of the king. A girl with a mind of her own, a mind that was not frightened of making its own decisions.
A decision in moments of need, a decision she had to make when it came to getting whatever she desired to fulfill her wishes and soul, she always succeeded on that mission.
Just as she did when her father and sister left back to Oldtown, Alicent desired their own trusted city, while Jorlyn much preferably stayed between the dragons and the huge kingdom of friendly people.
She was not the type of girl that would like to keep her hands clean, her hair brushed at her commands, and dinner served at the right times at night, she much rather wanted to be the opposite.
"Syrax, kelītīs (halt)." Jorlyn held out her arm as the dragon landed with a thud on the ground before Rhaenyra jumped off its back.
"Welcome back, Princess, hope your ride was pleasant." A waiting knight on a horse spoke, holding the reins.
"Try not to look too relieved, Ser," Rhaenyra replied, using her teeth to undo her gloves as she walked over to Jorlyn.
"I am relieved, everytime that golden beast brings you back I'm spoiled, saves my head." The knight muttered, watching her walk away.
"Has your sister yet arrived with your father?" Rhaenyra locked her arm with Jorlyn's as they began to get on their way into the castle. "I was assuming they were traveling here?"
"I do not hold my sister's hand to know her whereabouts, Rhaenyra." The Hightower girl sighed, holding the skirt of her dress with her hand. "That's my father's task."
Jorlyn glared at Rhaenyra as did the white-haired girl the same before they fell into a fit of laughter, hearing a carriage arrive.
"You asked for my so beloved sister, I think she must have arrived." Jorlyn went on her way to the wooden carriage, waiting for the doormen to open the door. "Go on then, the blood of the dragon runs thick, waiting here."
"Of Course, Miss Hightower." The doormen nodded, unlocking the door as soon Otto and his other daughter appeared into view.
"Jorlyn, my love, I'm most delighted to see you again." Otto smiled, opening his arms for his daughter to walk into.
"As am I, father." Jorlyn contently sighed, embracing her father before he kissed her forehead.
"Sister." Alicent looked at her sister, being friendly, at least the best she could. "Hope you're well."
"I'm still breathing, so I'm alright, Alicent." The one-year older sister snapped, getting into the carriage to ride back to the kingdom.
Otto cleared his throat, catching Rhaenyra and Alicent's attention. "Jorlyn and I will take this carriage, perhaps a dragon will fly the two of you back."
And before Alicent could reject her father's question, Rhaenyra spoke up. "Of course, Ser, Syrax would be happy to."
Otto nodded at the two of them before getting in the carriage with his eldest daughter, knowing there was something off to her behavior. "Are you all good, dearest?"
Jorlyn shook her head, wrapping her fingers around the necklace
that hung on her neck. "He was killed."
"He? Who are you ta-"
"Gerrar, they started with an arrow to the heart, as that was not enough they beheaded him," Jorlyn spoke, staring out in front of her, not feeling anything but emptiness. "There's nothing left."
"How do you know so sure?" Otto furrowed his eyebrows, and turned towards his daughter, placing his hand on hers. "He could still be alive?"
"They threw his head in front of my feet, father, his fucking head, father." The girl answered, pulling her hand away from her father's. "We were to be wed."
"You will be someday, one failed love, is not a failed life, my sweet." Otto placed his daughter's head on his shoulder as they carried on with their travel to the kingdom. "Don't you worry."
"In this life, we'll always have worries, father," Jorlyn muttered, as they drove through the gates, noticing Rhaenyra waiting on her.
"No, I got it." Rhaenyra dismissed the doormen as she opened the door herself. "Welcome back I'd say."
Jorlyn pursed her lips, nodding her head as she held the skirt of her dress, stepping onto the ground, locking her arm with Rhaenyra's.
"Father, I will just be away for a moment, seeing how Queen Aemma is feeling." Jorlyn gave her father a sad smile, starting to walk away with Rhaenyra.
"You look different than some time ago, did something happen?" Rhaenyra questioned while they walked up the stairs. "I will always listen."
"I know, but it's nothing important, I'll be fine," Jorlyn responded before they got into Queen Aemma her room, noticing her waving some fresh air in her face with a hand fanner.
"Ah, Rhaenyra, Jorlyn, I do not like you two leaving and going when I'm in this condition." Aemma pushed herself up with her hands, sitting up on the bed.
"You do not let us leave this building in any condition, mother." Rhaenyra sighed, letting the nurses pass by.
"Your Grace." Jorlyn bowed her head, smiling at the female. "I hope this pregnancy isn't taking the best of you."
"Day by day it is, yet I'm wishing for this babe to be born anytime soon." The Queen chuckled.
"Did you even sleep?" Rhaenyra asked.
"I slept." Aemma shrugged her shoulders, avoiding Rhaenyra's gaze. "What? I do not need mothering."
"But here you are surrounded by attendants who are all focused on the babe." She answered, looking at all the people in the room.
"She's right, your grace, someone has to attend to you" Jorlyn interjected, softy, smiling at the woman.
"Jorlyn I'd be quiet if I were you, you will lie in this bed soon enough, this discomfort is how you will serve the realm," Aemma spoke with a hard tone, staring right into her eyes.
"Your grace, I do not know what you mean?" Jorlyn frowned at Rhaenyra then looked back at Aemma.
Aemma chuckled, smiling at her. " You have a royal womb as well, which will be filled soon enough."
"Mother, what do you mean?" Rhaenyra questioned, noticing Jorlyn's face turn into fear.
"Jorlyn, my dear, you are to be betrothed to Daemon Targaryen," Aemma spoke.
Jorlyn felt like all the air was being knocked from her lungs, this was not what she had expected to be decided for her, not when her lover had just been killed.
