I know if I'm haunting you, you must be haunting me...
In which Jacaerys Velaryon is doing everything he can to avenge his brother Luke and insure his mother's seat on the iron throne.
"Violet Smitherman. Her house is barbaric and so is she. She's...
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Jacaerys Velaryon was shocked and in awe all at the same time. The Heavans was brutally grotesque and smelt of rotting flesh on the outside. But on the inside however was a sight to see. The ceilings were bejeweled with emerald, sapphires and rubies, and smelt of incense entire skeletons that were painted so well it almost made it less strange lined the halls in place of their eyes were diamonds. The temperature inside was perfect unlike outside which was so cold it almost reminded the prince of his time in Winterfell.
The floors were made from a polished white stone that glinted every once again, portraits of seemingly important people hung in odd places, their lifeless eyes seemed to follow him wherever he went. And all of the people inside, stoic guards included seemed to be enjoying themselves in a way Jacaerys hadn't seen in so long, in a way he had missed. It was like the ways of the outside world hadn't reached these people, as if they didn't care about the war over the iron throne, as if the outcome of who won didn't matter to them in the slightest. Jacerys envied them greatly, these people didn't know how lucky they were.
"We call it The Heavans for a reason your highness", Julian said, with a knowing smirk. The boy's reaction was the same as any other visitor they'd had. Awe. Though the reason for the anger that was apparent in the prince's eyes was lost to Julian. They finally reached a flight of stairs that winded up a couple flights.
"She's up there, I can hear her throwing a fit", Julian chuckled with a shake of his head. The prince snapped out of his gazing and forced himself to listen to his surroundings not that it took much focus you'd have to be deaf not to hear the curses of his betrothed. "And why would she be throwing a fit", asked the prince, trying to make out what the female voice was shouting.
Julian eyed the boy a little closer, he wasn't very big, but not small either definitely bigger than his Violet. Julian could easily handle this prince, all he'd have to was "accidentally" push him down a flight of stairs. Easy. He looked nothing like a Targaryen, and he couldn't be more than ten and eight. Practically a babe, Violet needs a man, she needs me, he thought bitterly.
"Because she doesn't wish to marry...or doesn't wish to marry you at least", noted Julian with delight. Almost stopping in his tracks at this, "that's absurd, I'm a prince, the prince she'd be mad not to give me her hand in marriage", he replied, his voice was confident but that was the exact opposite of how he felt. What if Violet refused to marry him, sure he would get to return home like he wanted, his betrothal with dear Baela resumed, but returning empty handed? Jacaerys wasn't granted leave very much these days let alone with a mission, a duty, he couldn't bare the thought of the whole council eyeing him with pity or disappointment.
"She's mad anyway or haven't you heard", asked Julian, fighting a grin at the the boy's obvious discomfort. Jacaerys had heard plenty. Finally they reached their destination an intricately designed iridescent glass door. Jacerys waited as Julian moved around the marbles into some pattern. "I will not marry Jacaerys Velaryon", the prince heard from the other side of the door followed by a sound of breaking glass. He let out a heavy breath, "this will be no easy feat". Julian at last opened the doors, "who told you it would be"?
