king for a day ¹ ━━━━ jacaerys velaryon fanfic

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
BE NICE TO ME
❛ there is very little left of me
and it's never coming back ❜

౨ৎ disclaimer
unedited, merry christmas! i'm planning
to drop two chapters so be prepared <3

JACAERYS.

The raven arrived at Dragonstone in the dead of night. The storm winds howled against the castle walls, carrying the weight of the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Jace has been pacing the hall outside the council chamber, his mind consumed by the plans repeated to him for the past days. He was restless, frustrated by the waiting. He quickly entered the room, the Painted Table was alight with the glow of dozens of candles. The map of Westeros spread before the council was scarred with markings of war– dragons representing allies and enemies, red and black stones denoting strategic positions, and banners marking loyalist houses.

Jace took his time to sit at the edge of the room, eyes hollow as his hands rested against the hilt of his sword. His posture showed evidence of his worries, as though he were a bowstring about to snap. His mother was mid- discussion with Corlys and Daemon when the door opened. "A raven from King's Landing, Your Grace," the servant said, bowing his head as he handed over the letter. The prince's eyes narrowed as his mother broke the seal, carefully unrolling the parchment in confusion. His heart pounded as Rhaenyra looked through the letter, her eyes widening with every word.

Lady Eudora has perished in the Red Keep after attempting regicide onto the King, Aegon Targaryen. During the attempt, she fell to her death. Her body has not been recovered, washed over by the high tides brought by the seas. May the gods have mercy on her soul.

"Jace," she said softly, her voice trembling.

"What is it?" he asked as he looked up.

Rhaenyra could only hesitate, the words catching her throat. Daemon stepped forward and took the letter from her hands, reading it quickly. His usual calm gave way to a grim scowl. "It's from King's Landing," Daemon answered. "The Greens claim Eudora attempted to assassinate Aegon. In the struggle, she fell."

The entire room then fell silent.

"What?" Jace's voice cut through the air.

"Jace, I–"

"They're lying." The prince stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the stone floor. His breathing was ragged, his fists clenched at his sides.

Daemon's gaze stayed steady. "It's possible. But–"

"There is no 'but!'" Jace interrupted, slamming his fists onto the Painted Table. "They killed her. They murdered her!" He swept his arm across the table, the stones and marks knocked out of their positions. The clattering sound echoes through the room, causing the rest of the council to grow quiet.

"Jacaerys, stop!" Rhaenyra said, her voice pleading.

Jace turned to her, his expression filled with grief. "Do you want me to stop? After what they've done? After they've taken her from me?" Rhaenyra reached for him but he swatted her hand away, his breathing heavy and uneven. Without another word, he stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

AEMOND TARGARYEN AND ALICENT HIGHTOWER.

"We march for Harrenhal by sunrise," he told Ser Criston Cole, his voice cold as they stood in the King's chambers, watching the servants clean up the mess left. Aegon's body has been taken away to tidy him up, the whole castle settling into a strange silence.

Criston nodded in obedience. "And the king's death–"

"Is irrelevant," Aemond interrupted. "The war continues. Harrenhal will be ours before the week's end."

A few hours rolled by too quickly, their men started to gather in the courtyard, awaiting further orders from the two. Alicent watched from the entrance as her hands trembled over her mouth. Her son had become a stranger to her, his choices led astray. His ruthlessness was far beyond what she could understand. As he conversed with a few more soldiers, the dowager queen strided towards him. "Aemond!"

He turned, his gaze cold and unfamiliar.

"Please, let this end. Once the message arrives at Dragonstone, Rhaenyra would stop at nothing to avenge her death. Jacaerys will stop at nothing—"

"This ends when the realm is ours. No pretender or bastard would be the reason as to why I'd stop," he replied before walking away, the need to mount Vhagar more important than a conversation with his own mother. She watched as they began their march to Harrenhal, her nails beginning to bleed carelessly while she walked to Aegon's chambers.

The servants did their best to clean any remnants of blood and death, as if everything looked perfectly normal. She took slow steps, taking it all in. Alicent needed to know how it all went down, if her son struggled– if Aegon put up any effort against the girl. She needed to know if Eudora decided to give it her all during her last moments.

Her tragic Eudora.

Alicent truly began to resent herself for how everything fell apart. She'd never see Aegon again, she'd never raise him to be a good king. She'd never see Helaena again, because she knew how much Helaena is valuing her freedom from the grasps of the Red Keep with her children. She'd never see her Aemond, her sweet and innocent Aemond who needed his mother when he was younger. She'd never see Eudora, the kind and energetic Eudora who happily roamed the halls with her daughter– Alicent realized how late she was to ever giving the children she took care of the life they truly deserved.

She wondered what Rhaenyra was thinking right now– how mad Rhaenyra would be before she came to reclaim her throne. Alicent thought of Jace, would he be more forgiving? She wanted to believe so, Jace was always the one who laughed— at least, that was what she thought. The dowager queen hasn't seen the boy for so long, her memories only consist of the time before Driftmark, and the brief moment Rhaenyra's family came for Luke's claim.

Her chest heaved at her contemplation, mind racing and trying to grasp any kind of solution that could fix this, that could fix all of them. But there wasn't any.

Luke will remain dead,

Aegon will remain dead,

And Eudora will remain dead.

How many more prayers did she need to bend her knees for in order to turn back time and undo her wrongs?

(( 🫗 ))