Blood Upon The Snow ||| Cregan Stark

forty

For the first time in weeks, Jacaera got herself up and had a maid help her get ready. She bathed, had her hair done in the braids she liked, and dressed in the clothes she had left from when she married.

The wound on her leg was mostly healed but would scar. The same went for the burn on her side; it was pink and angry and scarred.

Cregan knew how much pain Jacaera was hiding when she was preparing to meet the lords of the minor houses that support House Stark. She had to show them she was someone worth fighting for.

"You will not do this alone. Remember that," he said, kissing the back of her hand.

Together, Jacaera and Cregan joined the other lords already gathered in his Great Hall. They'd been waiting for her, for the command of the woman they were supposed to be supporting.

Immediately, there were minor lords who wanted Jacaera's favour. She was to be their queen; supporting her then could get them benefits when she was actually ruling.

"I'm very sorry about your mother, my Queen."

That wouldn't do. Not at all.

"Thank you, my lord," Jacaera said politely, letting him kiss her hand before she moved to stand before those gathered. Cregan was right by her side, a reversal of roles.

"I apologize for my extended absence. As you can imagine, I was somewhat unavailable during these past few days and weeks." Jacaera spoke loudly to the lords, the presence behind her encouraging her to continue.

"It is with gratitude that I stand before you this day. For your unwavering support of me and my mother has been eternally honourable. And I fully intend to be your Queen and to rule the Seven Kingdoms."

She could see faces lifting, faces becoming more confident in her. There had been questions about her absence. Maybe she was too weak to rule.

"But I will not be addressed as such. I haven't proven myself, not to the people I intend to rule. When we take King's Landing, when the usurper is dead, when I pluck the crown from his head; that is when I am to be your Queen."

The men gathered before her cheered. At the prospect of war, of killing Aegon, or for Jacaera, she didn't know.

But their words, they were encouraging. And Jacaera felt relief flood her, maybe a sense of pride.

"We've come to die for the Dragon Queen!"

Cregan was only ever soft with two people. Jacaera and Rickon. And never in front of others, to protect them both. But as he stood beside her, he took one of her hands that were clasped behind her back and squeezed it. She was doing well.

Jacaera took a deep breath and held her head high before them. She waited for the cheering to cease, waited for their attention to turn back to her, before she gave her first command.

"Tell me where we stand."

She was ready to throw herself into this planning. But like Rhaenyra, Jacaera needed to know who her allies were before she sent them to war. She needed to know what armies Aegon still had, and what defences would stand in their way.

As it was explained to her, Jacaera paced back and forth, taking the information in all at once.

"After the... incident—" Rhaenyra's murder "—Aegon reached out to his last ally with an army; Borros Baratheon. The city was in a state of disarray but Lord Borros took the city back for Aegon. He currently rules from the Red Keep with the Baratheon host as his only land defence."