THE LADY - Jacaerys Velaryon

xii. The Dragon And The Rose

CHAPTER TWELVE
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T H E  D R A G O N  A N D  T H E  R O S E

DAELLA HAD NEVER ran faster. Away. She needed to get away from all of this.

Her aunt had came into her chambers, she could practically feel the seat, coming off her. And when she was told the news of her betrothal by a heartbroken woman, she got up and ran.

And Cyrelle didn't stop her.

Daella knew where she was running too. The dragon pit. Not to burn herself alive, no dear gods that would just be idiotic and dramatic and a tactic she will use the night before her wedding day.

To see Jacaerys. She needed to see Jacaerys.

"Jacaerys!" She had practically screamed, tripping over her own feet when her eyes rested upon the brown haired beaut stroking his dragon.

Jacaerys' head shot upwards. As did Vermax's. The green dragon's head lifted above his rider's, a loud screech coming from his mouth. His pupils because slits and it seemed his yellow eyes shone brighter. From the back of its throat, Daella could seen the orange ember of fire. Fire. Vermax believed her to be a threat.

Daella's steps halted, breathing in sharply. She couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from the beast before her. He entrapped her, from the green scales that littered its body to the fire becoming from the back it's throat.

Daella loved the Targaryens but she didn't understand their love for dragons.

Now she did.

They were beautiful, and protective of their riders. They were fiercely loyal. Dragons seemed to be better beings than their riders.

"Lykiri Vermax! Lykiri!" The words rolled off Jacaerys' tongue almost effortlessly. High Valyrian. She couldn't speak to language, nor did she want too. But the way he spoke it, made him sound like a god.

She couldn't help but feel her heart break at the notion that someone else would be able to wed Jacaerys and hear those calming whispers for the rest of their life.

Vermax seemed to calm at the commands of his rider, still, his feline eyes never left Daella.

"It is alright, he won't hurt you." Jacaerys said, walking over to her, a smile on his lips. H the whole time she had been here, Jacaerys had begged Daella to come to the dragon pit with him. And she declined. Saying that the stench would've took her out as soon as she stepped in here.

This must've been a urgent matter.

Jacaerys tilted his head. "My lady, what is wrong?" He questioned softly, watching as she fiddled with the hem of her dress—which was tightly clutched in her hands so it didn't get dirty by the dragon pit.

"What did you say to him? To make him...stop?" She avoided his question, wishing to never say the words aloud that have been racking her brain since she heard the news.

Jacaerys sighed. "I told him to be calm. What is the matter?" He asked again, taking another step forward. "My lady, you can tell me." He said reassuringly, his eyes softened at the helpless look on her face.

"Why do you call me 'my lady' we are friends, you can call me Daella." She had never thought about it, not once did he call her Daella to her face, she wouldn't be surprised if he even said it away from her. Luke called her Daella, even Ella. But Jacaerys called her 'My Lady' nothing more nothing less.

"Because you never said I could...Daella." Hearing her name slip of his tongue made her feel even more sad. She could be his wife. He was good. Holder than Aemond. His uncle cared for nothing more than the greed of being a true Targaryen. Jacaerys was content with whatever he had.