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

EPILOGUE

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ EPILOGUE ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

🫗🦪

With what they believed were the remains of the boy and the girl were laid to rest, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen mourned not just the loss of one but two beloveds.

Dragonstone mourned the loss of its prince, and Winterfell grieved for the Stark who should have been its future.

It has been said that Queen Rhaenyra wept for the son she would never see again, her cries carried away by the winds that littered over the Narrow Sea. Helaena Targaryen's sorrow was said to be endless, her grief as boundless as the sky itself, mourning her friend who shared her years in the Red Keep's walls with her.

Vermax still soared above the waves, circling the lands as if searching, refusing to land, refusing to move on. Some whispered that Jacaerys lived, that the dragon's unrest meant he would return. Others believed Vermax mourned his rider's death, waiting for a master who would never come home.

Alicent Hightower remained locked away in her chambers, a prisoner of her own choices, her regrets consuming her like a slow poison. The past had finally caught up with her, and it showed in the way she aged, in the way her hands trembled over every letter she wrote and every prayer she whispered.

And Aemond Targaryen? He was still out there, still searching. A ghost haunting the Riverlands, his remaining eye bruning with an obsession that would never fade. Some said he would never rest until he found them, until he saw their bodies laid before him, cold and lifeless.

But Aemond would never find what did not wish to be found.

Far away from the weight of thrones and war, where the names Targaryen and Stark were nothing more than echoes, two souls had carved out a new existence.

A prince who had walked away from his birthright.

A woman who had been a ghost long before she died.

Only the pair knew the truth, that they were free, they were together, and they were alive.

Well, at least for now they were.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The air smelled of pine and lavender, the warmth of the hearth casting long, golden shadows against the walls of the small cottage. Outside, the wind hummed through the trees, whispering through the valley that had become their home. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, and candlelight flickered from the windows. It was a quiet home, unremarkable to any wandering eye.

"Again!" a young boy pleaded, his dark curls wild from tossing in the furs.

A Velaryon chuckled from where he knelt beside the bed, smotthing a hand over his son's forehead. "Again?" he mused. "You've heard this story more times than I can count.

Lucerys Velaryon huffed dramatically, his small arms crossing over his chest. "I like it."

A Stark, rocking a small, sleepy Margaret in her arms, only smirked. "You, my boy, are insatiable," she muttered, walking over to press a kiss to his forehead.

The boy grinned at her, then turned back to his father, expectant. "Tell it!"

The father sighed, dramatic, exaggerated, but his lips twitched with amusement. "Fine, fine," he relented. "Once upon a time, there was a prince who wasn't supposed to be a prince and a lady who never wanted to be a lady."

Lucerys beamed, already mouthing along to the words.

His mother glanced at her husband, rolling her eyes again before she continued to rock the child in her arms. "And what happened to them?"

"Well, my love, they met during a funeral– starting their unlikely friendship," he smirked, sitting on his son's bed. "And soon enough, they fell in love through the letters they exchanged."

The Stark hummed in agreement. "Then they got caught in a war, didn't they?"

"A very big war," Lucerys added.

"A very big war," his father agreed, tickling his ribs lightly, making the boy shriek with laughter. "They fought, they ran, they did all sorts of foolish things for live."

The boy began to yawn, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "And then?"

His father's voice softened. "And then they disappeared, no one ever saw them again– alright, time to sleep."

The child huffed, clearly annoyed. "More!"

"It's late, Luke."

"But I want to know what happened next! Did the prince really fight the Kinslayer?"

His mother only laughed at his words. "And what if he didn't?"

Lucerys' eyebrows furrowed. "But that's what the stories say."

Jace, the boy's father, glanced at Eudora, a glint of amusement in his eyes. His wife, still dressed in her nightgown, shifted Margaret slightly against her chest, running a hand through her son's curls. "Stories aren't always true, my love," she murmured. "Sometimes, they're just that– stories."

Luke squinted at them, his lips pressing together in deep thought. "But... you know a lot about the prince and the lady, it's like you knew them."

Jace raised his eyebrow. "And what if we did?"

The boy gasped. "Did you?"

Eudora and Jace exchanged a glance, their hands brushing over their daughter's small back, fingers laced together in a quiet, knowing touch. She then leaned down, pressing a kiss to Luke's forehead. "Go to sleep, my love."

"But–"

"Sleep," Jace interrupted, ruffling the boy's curls.

Luke pouted but sighed, curling under the furs. "Fine."

Jace smiled, pressing one last kiss to the boy's temple before pulling the furs up to his chin. "Good night, Luke."

But as they moved to stand, Luke peeked up at them once more, his voice soft. "Mama?"

Eudora turned, rocking Margaret gently in her arms. "Yes, darling?"

The boy blinked up at them, his voice quieter. "Did they really exist?"

The pair exchanged a look, before they both let out a laugh. "Of course not," jace smiled.

His mother then smirked. "It's all just a story."

Luke's eyelids fluttered, a yawn escaping him once more. "I bet they were happy."

This caused Jace to freeze for a moment, something catching in his throat. But as soon as he looked around the room, at Eudora, their daughter who was cradled in her arms, at the boy he calls his son, the smile on his face never left. "Yeah," he whispered. "I think they were."

to be continued...