Jaehhaerys I
4th Moon, 52AC
Jaehaerys took a careful sip of his wine, small, controlled, measured. Anything more would make him seem indulgent, anything less would make him seem too stiff. He needed to strike the perfect balance in between, on this night especially.
The banquet hall was warm but not stifling, lit by the steady glow of hundreds of candles arranged with maddening precision, something his mother had insisted on, and something he had triple-checked himself. The music was soft enough not to overwhelm conversation. The servants moved smoothly, unobtrusively. Everything, so far, was as it should be.
'Good,' he thought, not letting himself relax in the slightest. Everything needed to be good. He would not let this night go awry.
His mother had been quietly planning it with him for moons now. Ever since he decided that Alarra was the better choice between her and her sister. Likely, before that, if he was being honest, his mother liked to be prepared.
He appreciated the preparedness, as he knew exactly what he must do on this night. He would maintain his composure and look the part of the perfect prince that he had to be. Even if he was only his father's third son, he was still a scion of House Targaryen, and he could accept nothing less.
He ate slowly and deliberately, carefully listening to the bustling conversation around him. House Targaryen was sprawled out across the large banquet table, each of them locked in minor conversations that Jaehaerys paid little attention to.
Last night, he had paid attention, eager to know just what his brothers had been up to in their absences. But today was his day, and he would not let them dictate anything about it, Aegon least of all.
Alarra shifted beside him, her skirts whispering softly as she folded her hands in her lap. She had taken to the wine provided more eagerly than he had, but she still measured herself. She was, as he knew her, bright, smiling, and eager to please. Just as his mother had taught her.
"Are you enjoying yourself, my prince?" she asked softly, turning her violet eyes up to him with the same earnest warmth she had worn all day.
Jaehaerys dipped his head with the smallest of practiced smiles. "I am. Everything has proceeded as planned."
"Oh, good," Alarra said with a breath of relief, her shoulders loosening. "I hoped it would. Your mother told me this banquet should be dignified, especially for a wedding on Dragonstone," she said, her smile still beaming.
"I…" she began, but she caught herself quickly, her cheeks glowing pink. "I just want it to be perfect for you."
Jaehaerys smiled a bit more earnestly at that. He had his reservations regarding who he was to marry. He remembered quite a few embarrassing tantrums that he had with his mother years back, but out of the relatively poor choices he had to pick from, he was confident he got the best of the lot.
"It is, you have done a perfect job," he said with his warm, princely smile. One he had been practicing for so long, he forgot when he started.
"Thank the gods," she said. " Everything feels so grand here that it's hard not to feel as though everyone is watching," she said, gesturing toward the enormous crowd of nobles.
The guest list for this wedding had been expansive, as he had been part of the group to send out the invitations. But even then, those who arrived exceeded their initial estimates. Lords from the Crownlands, Riverlands, Stormlands, the Reach, and even the Vale made it to attendance. Even a few lords from Essos made it too.
A few retainers and friends of his uncle had made the journey across the sea. They were unexpected guests, but they had apparently brought with them quite lavish gifts, so that ought to make up for their sudden arrival.
There was no telling what they would bring. Jaehaerys was not exactly expecting the most glamorous of gifts on this wedding night, as he knew his greatest gift was waiting for him to claim it later in the night. But just the idea of what the lords might have brought made Jaehaerys giddy with excitement.
The Pentoshi attendees in particular caught his interest. Their small number stood out among the crowd, their fine silk clothes sticking out like sore thumbs compared to the armor and the fine wool clothing of the Westerosi nobility.
There was some overlap. The wealthier lords in attendance were also wearing silk, but the crowd of Pentoshi magisters still caught his eye. Their colors seemed to pop more, their smiles were wider, and their laughs heartier. The sight tugged at his attention.
They seemed relieved and happy in a way that Jaehaerys just did not find common. It was almost as if his uncle's realm was happy and satisfied.
If Westeros was still recovering from its wounds, from what Jaehaerys could tell, Essos was thriving by comparison.
He did not know all the details of his uncle's kingdom, but he did know quite a few about his father's kingdom. Westeros was still a wounded animal, even years after the fighting finally ended for the most part, and life began to return to the abandoned parts of the continent.
The forests and woods were emptied of the trespassers and squatters there, as they were returned to the fields. Commerce began again as people returned to everyday life. Gold began flowing, food was grown, and peace was restored. Yet it still seemed broken.
It was as if Westeros was stitching itself back together, but it was not yet done. His uncle's domain, by comparison, seemed far more put together.
His uncle and cousins had just finished conquering the three southern Free Cities around the Heel of Essos. Cities of hundreds of thousands of people, all integrated into the web of courts, government, and trade, seamlessly. He wanted to know how he did it, how they all made it work so easily. He wanted to know if he could use it in Westeros.
He loved his home, and while he had momentarily considered leaving Westeros as well, searching for greener pastures as his uncle and brothers had done. He did not want to abandon his home. He wanted to make it better.
That was not to say he did not want a home of his own, but he did not want it to come at the expense of the kingdom at large. He was not his older brother. He supported his father, as a son should.
The thought of his brother brought a small scowl to his face. Neither of his brothers was here for his wedding, both having refused to come here. They chose their personal feelings over him and the unity of their family, it was a childish and foolish decision.
It was pathetic, his brother had chosen his personal holdings over the safety and security of the realm and family. 'Wouldn't be the first time,' Jaehaerys thought with a bitter sneer, his right eye briefly glancing at his wife's sea-green jewelry.
Jaehaerys quickly regained control over his emotions, something he had taught himself to do long ago, but it was too slow before his wife noticed, a pathetic failure by his standards.
"Is something wrong, my love?" she asked sweetly, the picture of grace.
"Nothing, Alarra, the light just caught my eye," he dismissed quickly, not wanting this to upset his wife.
His opinions on her were complicated, but that did not mean that he would allow them to ruin his marriage. He doubted he would ever be fully happy, given how he was marrying a Velaryon instead of a Targaryen, but that was far from his control now.
His family had colluded against him from the very beginning to deny him what was owed as a Targaryen prince. He ought to have been betrothed to his little sister Vaella, but she did not survive her illness as a babe. After that, he should have been betrothed to his niece Rhaella.
His elder brother had done everything in his power to stifle and belittle him. He still remembered his words, how he was apparently not 'worthy' of Rhaella. The memory made him want to scoff. No Targaryen in the world was more worthy of a proper marriage than himself.
He put in all the work, hours and hours spent each day in the yard, honing his craft until he was the best warrior in the family besides his uncle. Then he spent equally as long studying all manner of subjects. Laws, geography, trade, and history. He knew it all, everything that he could ever need to know, and he was still learning more. Yet he considered him unworthy?
His anger bubbled within him like molten lava. He was actually glad that his father refused to invite Aegon, he was thankful that he had not needed to see his brother in years, ever since he stole Oldtown from him as well. The lack of his brothers was a good thing in his book, but there were other guests that Jaehaerys could do without.
A giggle caught his attention, cutting through the other noises like a hot knife through butter. It was his little sister's voice, her laugh coming from something Daeron or Aegon said.
'Oh, right,' Jaehaerys thought bitterly, there was another Targaryen match that he had missed out on. His little sister was married off to his cousin instead of him.
He clenched his hand in anger, maintaining his poise and upright posture but internally fuming. He remembered a story that his mother had told him years ago, about when his father had first set up the betrothals between his cousin's family and his own.
Back then, he could not have known that Vaella would not survive, or even that she would be born. But part of him still hated that his father had so readily given Alysanne away. The logical part of him knew that she would have likely married Viserys if the matches with his cousins had not been made, but there would have at least been a chance.
His sister may not look like a Valyrian, Alarra certainly had her beat on that front. But it was in the intangibles that Alysanne soared ahead. While she did not possess a dragon of her own, she could at least legally ride one when her time finally came. Alarra, meanwhile, could never ride a dragon beside his own, even if she might have been capable of it.
That was bad enough, but the worst part was the fact that his children would inevitably be considered less Targaryen than those of his cousins. Alarra had far less dragonblood than his younger sister did. She was better than nearly everyone else on the planet, but still not up to his standards.
His father, instead of maintaining the purity of his own family, decided to give his youngest and last daughter off to his cousins instead. The idea angered Jaehaerys beyond belief. Now Alysanne would benefit his cousin's family, not even his siblings, despite his poor relationship with them.
Looking over toward his cousins, he felt a sense of jealousy flare in his chest. Each of them lived what seemed like the perfect little life. Strong dragons, great wealth, stable domains, personal holdings, and secure marriages. Meanwhile, he looked downright poor by comparison.
It irked him more than he could possibly describe, and the only one who seemed to understand him was his mother. She was not perfect, certainly not. But at the very least, she seemed to actually be on his side, unlike everyone else in his family.
Her being on his side carried its own negatives. As his brothers in particular were fond of calling him a "Mommy's boy," the teasing was more than made up for by her unyielding support.
She had actually been the one to help him set up the meeting he had planned later. A meeting that would finally put him on the board. But that meeting was not here yet, and so Jaehaerys decided to stop dawdling.
Hearing the music start to pick up and the floor clear for dancing, Jaehaerys decided to pre-empt his father telling him to move by offering his lady-wife a dance, the first dance of the night.
"My darling wife, would you have this dance?" he asked, the perfect picture of a prince.
Alarra's expression softened in that gentle, composed way of hers as she placed her hand in his. She had clearly been waiting for him to ask, prepared as she was for this night. Jaehaerys caught the flicker of nerves in her eyes, the faint flush rising to her cheeks. She was doing her best as well, he supposed. A girl from a house he would never have chosen on his own, thrust into a position she'd been raised to worship from afar.
He could understand that, even if his own reservations and doubts lingered in the back of his mind. But none of that would show. Not from him. Not tonight.
Jaehaerys straightened his shoulders and guided her toward the clearing floor with smooth, confident steps, as if the match were the most natural thing in the world. The nobles parted for them like water around a prow, bowing, murmuring, watching. Always watching. Jaehaerys felt their eyes like hands pressing against his spine, testing for weakness.
He would show none.
He led her onto the floor with practiced grace, the nobles parting as though this moment had been choreographed long before the wedding feast began. The music shifted, soft but expectant, and Jaehaerys set a hand at her waist, every movement measured, polished, and princely.
Alarra followed with gentle steps, far more obedient than bold, but pleasant enough to quiet the room. He could feel numerous eyes on him, his father's, his brothers', his cousins', the lords hoping to take his measure.
'Let them look,' he thought. He would give them exactly what a prince should be: calm, poised, and perfect.
As they turned across the polished floor, Jaehaerys kept his expression smooth. He had plans for later, plans that actually mattered. For now, he would play his role to perfection. The first dance belonged to him, and so, with time, would much more than that.
…
The castle had gone still by the time Jaehaerys slipped from his chambers. The riot of music and laughter from earlier had sputtered out, leaving only the distant crash of waves against the cliffs. Wedding nights were loud things, until suddenly they weren't. Now, only the drunk and the unconscious remained.
Well, not only them. His Kingsguard escort was quick to follow, and unlike his other guards, he could not be bribed. He did not necessarily mind, however. As he would be bringing the topic he had in mind up with his father soon anyway, he just wanted to get the support from those he would need beforehand.
He kept his cloak wrapped tight as he moved through a narrow side passage, boots soft against the stone. His heart beat a steady rhythm, not from nerves but anticipation. Tonight was the true beginning, the beginning of his rise within the family.
"My Prince, if you do not tell me what you are doing, I will have to go and get King Aenys," the old Ser Davos Darklyn said. After the stunt that his brother pulled years ago, the Kingsguard were far more strict in what they were expected to do, especially when protecting the royal family.
"I am doing nothing treasonous, Ser Davos. I am merely meeting with some of my friends. Everything that I do tonight I will personally relay to my father in the morning, I swear it," Jaehaerys promised truthfully. He was being fully serious, what he was doing was risky, but it also had incredible rewards in store for him and his allies. He was not about to blow it all up because his father said no.
He would make sure that he agreed. He was confident that he would. He was not Aegon, his plan would only benefit the kingdom, unlike Aegon's stunt with Oldtown.
"That is an oath, but my oath still demands that I follow you," he said tiredly. Jaehaerys merely shrugged his shoulders in response.
"I only ask that you let me speak with Father first," Jaehaerys said with a confident smile.
"That depends on what you are doing," Ser Davos said suspiciously.
"Just some simple planning, floating a few ideas among friends, nothing more," Jaehaerys reiterated.
"So long as you do not plot something treasonous, and you do tell your father of your plans, then I will let you tell him yourself in the morning," Ser Davos finally replied, Jaehaerys resisting the urge to wipe away the sweat from his brow.
That was the hard part, what followed would be much easier by comparison.
The chamber he entered smelled faintly of salt and cool stone. Rogar Baratheon stood by the window, staring down at the moonlit harbor. Daemon Velaryon and his son Corwyn murmured quietly in Valyrian until Jaehaerys approached.
"Thank you all for agreeing to meet with me tonight. I am sorry for asking you all to limit your indulgence of the fine wine, but I hope what will be discussed tonight will make up for it," Jaehaerys said with a smile, taking a seat at the table.
Rogar was the first to reply. "A Kingsguard followed, huh?" he said, taking his own seat.
"Will that be a problem?" Ser Davos asked, his hand on his sword.
"Not at all," Jaehaerys said, raising his hand. "Everything that we are doing tonight is perfectly legal, just speculation and offers, nothing uncouth.
"We would never dare to commit any illegal acts. This is just a calm meeting between family," his uncle Daemon said, also taking his seat.
Jaehaerys narrowed his eyes a little at the words, even if they were not technically wrong. Everyone at the table was not bound firmly by marriage. As both he and Rogar were married to his uncle Daemon's daughters. It was the opening he needed, and if he needed to stomach some of the characteristic Velaryon confidence, then so be it.
Corwyn took his seat quietly, not offering any quippy reply as Ser Davos reluctantly retreated to the entrance of the room, returning to his guard duties, even if he was still listening.
His brother's previous treasonous actions really were annoying Jaehaerys more and more. He could not even meet quietly with some lords without drawing suspicion. 'Stupid Aegon,' Jaehaerys thought, before coughing into his hand.
"As I said before, thank you all for meeting with me tonight, but I wish to speak with you all personally before I bring the issue up with my father. To gauge whether or not I would have the backing needed to carry out my plan," Jaehaerys said, the most confident and charming persona he could muster was plastered over him, despite the quietness with which he spoke.
"Thank you for having us, Prince Jaehaerys. Now what can we help you with?" his uncle Daemon said, a smile on his face visible even in the dim light.
"I hinted at the topic of this earlier, but now that we are in private, we can discuss more freely," Jaehaerys began, giving some side-eye toward his guard in the dark, but he was more eager to see his plan through.
"I wish to finish my grandfather's conquest. My father claims to rule the Seven Kingdoms, yet one still stands defiant. This is a gross injustice, and one that must be rectified," Jaehaerys said passionately.
His motives were a little self-centered, as the conquest of what not even his grandfather could manage would be something he could hold over the rest of his family, not to mention he could get first pickings among the spoils of war. But part of him really was determined to see the conquest finished.
His father ruled a realm that could desperately use a stunning victory, and not one committed against itself. A victory over the hated Dornish, finally putting an end to their scourging of the Marches and the piracy, would be a win unlike any Westeros had seen since his grandfather died.
"You are discussing war?!" Ser Davos said, approaching rapidly.
"I will have to…" he began, before Jaehaerys cut him off.
"Nothing solid! Ser Davos!" Jaehaerys interrupted, silencing his guard.
"We are not discussing anything wrong here. I intend to bring my proposal to my father in the morning. I just wish to see if my friends here agree with my outlook, if they do not, then I will not bring it up with my father. I have no intention of acting on my own or without Father's approval," Jaehaerys reiterated, Ser Davos looking unpleased in the dim light but stepping back toward his post, muttering something under his breath about promises.
"An invasion of Dorne brings certain… challenges… my prince," his uncle said diplomatically.
"Challenges of being horribly difficult," Rogar said, far more bluntly.
"I am well aware of the challenges involved, but I believe that with the right leadership and planning, we could destroy this rebellious kingdom before they even know what hits them, and then Westeros will be fully united," Jaehaerys said, easing concerns.
"Is Westeros even ready for another war? What has it been, less than ten years since the last one?" Corwyn said, speaking for the first time that night.
"Yes, Westeros is tired and lacking in funds. But that is precisely why I brought you all here tonight. With your support, and a little support from my kingly father, I think that we could destroy Dorne, without drawing the rest of Westeros into the conflict," Jaehaerys said, his eyes a blaze of confidence.
"You speak of a plan, but you have not told it to us, my prince," lord Rogar said, his blue eyes piercing through the darkness.
"Of course, not all of the details have been finalized. But I have a general plan of how this could work," Jaehaerys started, pulling a scroll from under his cloak.
The candle was pulled closer to the edge of the table as Jaehaerys unfurled the scroll. What was revealed was a map of Dorne, borrowed from the library of Dragonstone.
"My plan," he began, tapping the northern edge of the map, "is simple."
The three other men leaned in, each of them looking over the map.
"We strike before they even realize war has come. A blinding assault, fast and decisive. Not the slow, grinding attrition my father used in the Reach." His finger slid to the narrow, jagged line of the Boneway. "Here. We push through the pass with every man the Stormlands and Crownlands can muster. Light cavalry in front, heavy behind, spearmen supporting. And above them…"
Jaehaerys flashed a small, confident smile.
"Will be my dragon."
Rogar grunted approvingly, though it carried a note of worry. "Dragonfire will always help. But the Boneway is still no easy march, my grandfather lost a hand fighting there."
"It is dangerous, yes. But my family has already devastated the defenses there not too long ago. Just before the war with the faith. My father, uncle, and my uncle's mother blasted through the defenses and destroyed the Wyls and Yronwoods. Without them, our march will be much easier," Jaehaerys said, his confidence only building further. He had been planning this for years now, he was certain it would work.
"Forgive my assumptions, Prince Jaehaerys," Corwyn began, poking at the Boneway. "But that was years ago, would they not have just rebuilt?"
"Perhaps they have rebuilt a few defenses, a tower here or there. But Dorne was already struggling before my family's reprisal for their raids. The region was gripped by famine following the Dragon's Wroth, and then they were punished again. Yronwood and Wyl were both reduced to rubble, and countless other villages suffered their fury. We should not meet incredible resistance. And whatever resistance we do meet, will have to face my dragon," Jaehaerys assured, confident in Urrax's might.
His dragon was not the biggest, but it was a fierce beast. His temperament was hot, and his flames ferocious. He was confident that he could destroy whatever forces Dorne could muster.
"This battle plan is all well and good, Prince Jaehaerys," his uncle said next, his voice measured. "But your grandfather attempted to conquer Dorne once before, and he gave up in the effort. How do you intend for this to be any different?"
The words were a challenge, but one that Jaehaerys was ready for. "My grandfather was correct in his idea, the Dornish needed to be burned into submission. Where he went wrong was giving up too soon. Without their nobles, the Dornish will be leaderless, and a leaderless enemy is hardly a threat at all, especially if we control the most valuable parts of Dorne," Jaehaerys said, pointing to the Red Mountains, the Torentine, and the Greenblood.
"We control?" Lord Rogar started, raising a brown eyebrow in the faint candlelight. "With all due respect, Prince Jaehaerys, but what exactly would we even be doing in this plan and why? Should this not be a job for the royal army?"
Jaehaerys let out a small breath, not quite a sigh, but it was a question that he had been anticipating. "My father does not wish for another war, but I fear that the time to strike is now. To win a great victory and glory for the kingdom and its nobles. My father might be willing to loan me some soldiers to see the war concluded, but I will need extra support. Extra support that would surely be rewarded handsomely," Jaehaerys said, his eyes briefly glancing back toward the unwanted listener.
"King Aenys is famed for his generosity," Lord Rogar said, understanding Jaehaerys's predicament immediately.
Jaehaerys wanted nothing more than to simply promise lordships and rights to his allies here and now. But until he controlled Dorne, he would not be able to. But he knew he could once he was in charge of Dorne and at the head of an army. All he needed to do was get his allies to support him until then.
"Exactly, selflessly fighting for the unity of the realm, providing men and material. It will surely be rewarded with the spoils from the conquest. Regions in Dorne will certainly need new lords, and there is much gold to be gained from proper investments in the Greenblood and Torentine valleys," Jaehaerys said, his words making the Velaryons at the tables drool like hungry wolves.
"The Dornish not being a thorn in my side will be a welcome change," Lord Rogar suddenly said, standing up from his seat. If King Aenys supports your plan, then you can count on the support of the Stormlands," he said confidently, but still reserved enough not to cause a scandal.
"Likewise for us, Prince Jaehaerys," his uncle said, standing up as well. "If King Aenys agrees to let you wage war against the Dornish, then you can count on your Velaryon kin for support, just as every Targaryen has before," he said proudly, the typical Velaryon pride glowing like a sun behind his lilac eyes.
"That is good to hear. Your support means a great deal. I will speak with my father about the preparations and justifications for such a war on the morrow. I will speak with you all again shortly. If my father agrees, I would like to begin planning. If he refuses, then we will have to table the plan for another day," Jaehaerys said, standing from his own seat.
The four of them all made their way out of the room, with Ser Davos following closely behind, his eyes practically screaming for him to keep his word. But Ser Davos did not need to worry, with the support of the Velaryons and Baratheons, Jaehaerys was certain his father would agree.
Jaehaerys could hardly contain his giddy joy. He had been denied a chance at battle and glory during the war with the faith and nobles. Then he had not been dispatched to help his cousins with the Triarchy, even if he would rather not have gone anyway. But now, he would have a real chance at glory.
A chance to rectify his grandfather's failures, a chance to bring Dorne to its knees. He could hardly wait for the morning to come.
AN: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. It was the most fun one to write in a long time, so I hope you liked the new POVs as much as I did. You will be seeing more from both in future chapters, but please let me know your thoughts on their initial POVs. As for next time, expect a chapter in Dorne as Jaehaerys uncovers the true state of the Dornish will and another Alysanne POV, this time set in Tyrosh as she accompanies her betrothed on his Volantis-watching mission. With all that said, thank you all so much for your support, check out my Patreon to read up to three chapters ahead, and have a wonderful day!