Targaryens are known to have queer costumes, an unusual tradition in which the brother and sister wed each other in order to secure the line of succession as pure as possible. Well, it is not always the Targaryens that have such habits, who says tha...
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~130 A.C~
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
(No silent readers pls thx. English is not my first language so please forgive me for any mistakes.)
DRAGONSTONE It was the first day of 130 A.C, the scent of parchment, ink, and melted wax clung faintly to the room as the sea winds pushed against the tall windows. Jacaerys Velaryon sat at his carved oak desk, quill abandoned in an inkpot, his dark brows furrowed in thought. In his hand, he held a freshly arrived raven scroll, the seal broken.
The door creaked softly, and the faint sound of light steps entered the chamber. Vellena, her hair tangled from her flight, the smell of salt and dragonfire still clinging to her, slipped inside. She paused for a heartbeat, watching him, the way the candlelight glowed against his profile.
Silently, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing her cheek to his temple. Her breath was still quickened from the flight, but her touch was steady, warm.
"You look too serious for an afternoon," she teased softly, though her voice carried curiosity.
Jace let out a breath, leaning into her without thinking, and kissed the backs of her hands gently. "A raven just came."
Her chin brushed his shoulder as she peeked at the parchment. "Bad news?"
"No," he said, and his voice shifted relief threading through it, though still heavy with thought. "Good, in truth. Rhaena has left the Vale with little Aegon and little Viserys. They sailed this morning from Gulltown for Pentos. Joffrey remained with Lady Jeyne."
He turned the parchment slightly, his eyes scanning it once more as if to be certain he'd read it right. "They'll be safe there."
For a moment, Vellena didn't answer. Her arms tightened around him instead, her lips brushing against his dark curls. Her lashes fluttered shut as a rush of emotion filled her chest with relief, yes, but threaded with longing that cut sharp and deep.
She blinked rapidly, and when she did speak, her voice wavered, small but genuine. "I miss them already. Rhaena... the boys..."
Jace reached up, catching her wrist softly, turning his head enough to glimpse her tear-bright eyes. He gave her a faint, crooked smile that did not hide the warmth in his gaze. "I know you do. I do, too."
Vellena swallowed and rested her forehead briefly against his. "Rhaena always felt more like my twin than just my sister." She gave a small laugh through her tears. "And Aegon always so curious. Always running through the castle and bruising his knees on the stairs. So in the end, me or mother needed to clean him up because he doesn't like the handmaid to do so."
"And little Viserys," Jace added softly, his thumb stroking the inside of her wrist. "So small, yet so loud. I swear he can out-cry a dragon if he wishes."
