Ambers || Jacaerys Velaryon

32. Jacaerys

Jace sits with his northern companions around a crackling fire as dusk settles over Bannen's farmstead, marking the start of their meal. The barn stands steady, freshly patched and reinforced, its wood glowing under the setting sun. Thick-coated cattle shift in their repaired pens around it, calm as evening descends. The scene is almost serene.

As plates of savory pork pie and a wineskin of honeyed wine make their way through the group, Jace leans back on the spare log he's sitting on, savoring the rare unity of the moment. Yet despite the warmth and laughter, his gaze inevitably drifts to the edge of the pasture, where Miara works alone, still chopping wood in the fading light. She chose not to join them right away, instead offering to gather firewood for Bannen and his wife, sparing the elder couple the chore. Jace can't help but think that, at the rate she's going, they'll have enough firewood to last through a winter that stretches on for years.

He wants to call her over but has grown accustomed to her distance these past few days. He isn't blind; he's noticed how she makes herself scarce whenever relieved of her guard duties. Since arriving in Winterfell, they haven't shared a meal, and they speak little-- his days consumed with proving himself to Cregan rather than seeking small talk with her.

He's at least grateful for the brief connection they shared earlier while chopping wood together. Not wanting to push her further, he chooses to respect her solitude, knowing he'd only risk making her pull away even more. He figures her coolness is tied to their stay in the north; she isn't one to tolerate the harsh weather or its people, and he doesn't want to add to her burden.

Settling back, Jace allows himself to enjoy the company around him, trusting Miara will join when she's ready.

"Never thought I'd enjoy muscle on a woman," comes a voice beside him. Jace turns to see Robb, a familiar huntsman with thin lips and grey eyes that linger far too long on Miara across the pasture.

Miara, having stripped off her cloak and armor during their work, stands with her baggy linen shirt rolled up to her elbows, the last rays of the setting sun casting through the fabric. Jace resists the urge to go over and wrap her in his cloak to keep Robb's eyes off her revealed form.

"If you can call that a woman," Benn sneers under his breath, his tone thick with resentment.

Bruises and scratches cover his round face, a result of his earlier trampling by the cattle-- a lesson Jace almost wishes had been harsher. Benn's bitter words only reveal his scorn over Miara's recent defiance against him.

"That's enough, boy," Roderick snaps, his blue eyes hardening in the firelight as he glares at his son. Benn shrinks under the look, hiding behind his plate, though his swollen lip makes eating an obvious struggle. Jace hopes it makes him taste blood rather than peppered meat and dough.

An awkward silence settles over the group, filled only by Miara's rhythmic axe chops and the crackle of the fire. Bannen steps in to break the tension, offering Jace a fresh loaf of barley bread his wife had given them earlier. 

"Care to do the honors, Your Highness?"

"Of course," Jace replies, accepting the loaf and tearing into it with his hands. He begins passing the broken pieces around, doing his best to make them as even as possible.

"Usually, my little brother handles this during feasts, so apologies if they're uneven," he jokes. His hands aren't as practiced as Luke's; back home, his brother always slices each piece with care, one person never having more than another. Jace tries to match that without proper tools, though he admits to himself that some things Luke simply does better.

"Do you only have the one brother, my prince?" Warrick asks, his tone respectful, warmer than his brother's.

Jace has noticed Warrick's shift in demeanor recently, likely at Lord Roderick's urging after nearly striking Miara the other day. Jace is thankful for Roderick's approval of her, feeling less alone in his search for allies here because of it. He's also open to Warrick's questioning, feeling more at ease at the thought of his brothers.