Chapter Text
First Encounter
Jacaerys detested parties, especially when the mothers of marriageable ladies relentlessly hounded him in desperate attempts to turn their daughters into future duchesses. He had managed to escape from Lady Baratheon and Lady Lannister, but he couldn’t guarantee that they wouldn’t catch him; after all, the night was long, and hiding places were scarce.
"You should smile a little, Jace," his mother advised as she walked over after putting his younger siblings to bed, offering him one of the small wine cups she carried. "It's a party; try to enjoy yourself."
It was tradition for his aunt, Queen Rhaenys Targaryen, to open the social season with a ball at the Red Keep, where the debutantes were presented.
"I'm trying," he assured her, accepting the drink and forcing a smile.
His mother smiled sweetly and observed him closely, as if trying to see beyond what he was telling her.
"I know you didn’t want to come this year, but I appreciate that you did," she commented.
Jacaerys relaxed a little at his mother’s words and gave her a slight nod. Mother and son shared a special bond, and it was difficult for Jacaerys to deny his mother anything. He knew she felt the same way; the months he had spent in Winterfell, enjoying the winter there and visiting his childhood friend, were proof of that.
Rhaenyra gave her eldest son a loving smile before stepping closer to speak privately.
"What’s wrong, Jacaerys?" she asked softly in his ear. "You’ve seemed distant since you returned from your trip."
"Nothing," he replied before taking a small sip of his drink. He didn’t want to talk about it, and he knew that if his mother pressed him enough, he’d end up confessing everything right there in the middle of the royal hall, which was the last thing he wanted.
His mother placed two fingers under his chin and gently turned his head until their gazes met.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" she said with that loving smile and maternal look that always made her blue eyes shine. Jace clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. He would talk to her, that much he knew, but not now. Rhaenyra noticed his reluctance. "You can trust me," she assured.
Jacaerys barely heard his mother’s final words; his attention had already shifted to his father, who was crossing the hall accompanied by someone else. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized the tall and familiar figure of Cregan Stark.
"Look who I found lurking around!" his father announced, with his arm draped over Cregan Stark’s shoulders.
Rhaenyra smiled with genuine joy at her son’s oldest and dearest friend.
"Cregan Stark," his mother greeted warmly. Cregan approached and greeted her with a kiss on the back of her hand.
"Lady Rhaenyra," Cregan greeted. "Jacaerys."
Cregan’s smile wavered, as if he were hiding an uncomfortable truth that only the two of them knew. Jacaerys felt the weight of that winter in Winterfell fall on his shoulders again, reminding him of what he had left unresolved. Nevertheless, he forced himself to nod in acknowledgment.
"Cregan," his name came out a bit unevenly.
His parents exchanged a meaningful look before his mother cleared her throat, drawing the attention of both young men.
"Jacaerys didn’t tell me you were coming," the duchess said.
The two young men shared a tense look before the northerner shook his head.
"I wanted it to be a surprise," he lied easily.
Rhaenyra took his hand in a maternal gesture and gave him a warm smile.
"A wonderful surprise," she assured him. "Did you bring little Rickon with you?"
Cregan’s smile became genuine at the mention of his beloved young son, of whom Jacaerys was the godfather.
"Yes, my lady, he’s staying with his nanny at the inn," he replied.
"We must arrange a playdate for little Rick and the twins," Rhaenyra suggested. Cregan let out a small laugh and nodded.
"You should stay with us," his father said. "There’s plenty of space in the Red Keep, and I don’t think the queen would mind. In fact, I believe she’d be delighted to see you and your son."
His mother’s excitement was evident, and she shot a look at Jacaerys, who tried to force a smile. It wasn’t as if Cregan had never stayed with them at the Red Keep—he was practically family—but Jace and he had yet to resolve what had happened in Winterfell, and it would be extremely uncomfortable seeing him every day and sharing the same space.
Jace supposed that Cregan had thought the same thing because, without losing his smile, he politely declined the invitation.
"That’s very kind of you, but I don’t think it’s prudent," he replied. "I wouldn’t want to impose with our presence."
"Nonsense," his mother said. "Neither you nor Rickon could be a bother."
Cregan cleared his throat, feeling a bit uncomfortable.
"It’s not just my son and me, my lady," he responded, his voice tense. "The reason for my visit to King's Landing is because I’m accompanying my sister," he said, and Jacaerys nearly choked on his wine.
"Your sister?" his father asked, confused.
Cregan shot Jace a serious look before answering his father.
"My half-sister, Sarah Snow, is making her debut this season," he replied.
Jacaerys didn’t need to hear more to excuse himself and leave the hall, ignoring his mother’s distant voice calling out to him. He needed fresh air and to clear his mind.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
All the eligible young ladies making their societal debut that night were gathered in the elegant and luxurious reception hall of the Red Keep. The excited murmurs of the ladies filled the room.
Helaena stood in a corner near an open window, observing her peers and pondering whether it would be wise to slip away before Queen Rhaenys called them into the ballroom. She felt like an outsider in that vast space; everyone there seemed to know each other and spent their time talking about their dresses, their hair, their jewels, their excitement for attending their first gala, and their hopes of securing a good husband.
Helaena sighed sadly. She didn’t want to be there, and it felt as if the gods were affirming her feelings. She let out another sigh and sat on the windowsill, gazing up at the stars that were just beginning to appear in the night sky.
"They’re hardly visible here," commented a girl who had approached without Helaena noticing. Rather than being startled, Helaena looked at the dark-haired girl with curiosity. "The stars," the girl clarified, pointing to the sky with a finger.
"It’s only just getting dark," Helaena offered as an excuse. Her strange companion let out a soft, amused snort.
"In the North, when the sun sets, the sky lights up with stars," she replied. "Here, the sky is black with just a few bright dots. In the North, when night falls, the sky is full of colors ranging from dark blue to purple, and it’s filled with stars, like diamonds shining brightly, showing off their beauty to us mere mortals."
Helaena imagined the scene the dark-haired girl was describing, and it seemed wonderful, so much so that she wished she could be in the coldest part of the realm, marveling at that natural wonder, rather than here, adorned with jewels and with little desire to socialize.
"It sounds beautiful," Helaena remarked, a dreamy tone slipping into her voice. The Northern girl smiled, amused.
"It is," she nodded. "You should go someday..." she trailed off, waiting for Helaena to offer her name.
"Helaena," she answered.
"It’s a lovely name," the girl agreed, and Helaena blushed. "Well, Helaena, in my opinion, anyone living in Westeros should visit Winterfell at least once in their lifetime. It’s a true spectacle."
Helaena felt a surge of excitement, supposing that this stranger might share her passion and curiosity for the world around them. She wanted to ask if she, too, dreamed of traveling the world, if this was her first time away from home like it was for her, and if, upon seeing the vast blue sea they had crossed to reach the capital, she hadn’t thought about all the wonderful places one could reach by journeying across that immense and majestic ocean.
But she stopped herself when the girl closed the window, using the glass as a mirror to check that her hair was in place. That brought Helaena back to reality; she remembered why she was here and what her future would be. Helaena had to blink several times to dispel the tears welling up in her eyes.
She wouldn’t travel, she wouldn’t leave home, and she would wither like a flower plucked from the garden: alone, sad, and hidden in the darkness.
"Is something wrong?" the girl asked. Helaena shook her head and forced a small smile.
"I’m just a little nervous, that’s all," she lied. The girl nodded understandingly and stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"You shouldn’t be. You’re beautiful," she said with a smile meant to comfort her.
"Thank you, um..."
The girl gave Helaena a smile that seemed to hold a secret.
"My name’s Sarah," she finally said, her dark gaze lingering on Helaena as though she already knew her.
Helaena forced herself to smile and nodded, though her companion’s words hadn’t calmed her at all; instead, they made her feel insecure, wondering if the dark-haired girl was being sincere or just saying it out of pity. Helaena knew she wasn’t a beauty; her brother Aegon had reminded her of that constantly as she grew up, and her grandfather used to say that while she didn’t possess dazzling beauty, she had a charming character. Of course, that was before she found an interest in traveling, exploring, and discovering the world around her.
Helaena observed her companion, noting how her black hair contrasted with her pale skin, her features were delicate, and her dark eyes were captivating. She was beautiful, and it seemed she knew it well. Her companion arched an eyebrow, noticing her gaze, and opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the doors of the ballroom opening, signaling that the time for the debutantes to make their grand entrance into society was near.
"Good luck," the Northern girl said before walking away.
As Helaena watched everyone quickly organizing themselves, she felt the ground beneath her feet grow more unstable. The gazes of the other debutantes seemed to slice through her like sharp knives, reminding her of how insignificant she felt in that place.
Her heart raced, and her breathing became shallow. Suddenly, she became all too aware that once she stepped into the ballroom, she would no longer belong to herself; she would belong to them. To all those present, to see and critique, to take and claim. She would no longer be a person; she would be a debutante and nothing more.
The air around her grew thick, and suddenly, Helaena felt like she could barely breathe. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, but the air didn’t seem to reach her lungs. The murmuring of the other debutantes and the noise of their movements became a deafening buzz, causing her head to spin. The room grew smaller with every passing second, the walls seeming to close in more and more.
She couldn’t do it.
Cold sweat ran down her back as her heart pounded in her chest with overwhelming intensity. She had to leave. Escape.
Without thinking twice, Helaena stepped out of line, pushing open the door to the reception hall and hurrying down the corridor as fast as she could. She didn’t know where she was going; she only knew she needed to get away, to breathe. Each step was clumsy, her hands trembling, and her vision began to blur with the tears she struggled to hold back. The buzzing in her ears intensified.
Finally, she stumbled into the gardens. The cool air enveloped her, but it didn’t calm the storm within. She leaned against a stone column, closing her eyes tightly, trying to regulate her breathing.
But she couldn’t.
The delicate headpiece that decorated her hair felt like it was digging into her scalp, and she struggled to remove it, undoing her hairstyle in the process. When she finally got it off, she clutched it in her hands and began to cry in despair.
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she simply be like all the others and feel happy about getting married? Why did she have to be so... so her?
"Are you alright?" A deep, calm voice broke the silence, startling her.
Helaena looked up toward the source of the voice. Dark brown eyes met hers, and something inside her stirred.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jacaerys stepped out of the great hall and into the gardens; the cool night air greeted him, but it was not enough to calm him. He knew that Sarah would be at the social season; Luke had told him, and she herself had mentioned it during her stay in Winterfell. However, he had not expected Sarah to debut. Not this season or ever.
Jacaerys moved deeper into the royal gardens as a whirlwind of thoughts sought order. Eventually, he found himself at the old tree where his mother and he used to sit when he was a child. Almost as if he wanted to find solace in nostalgia, he leaned his back against the trunk and tried to calm himself. He was sure he did not love Sarah; that what he felt was merely an improper attraction towards her. But if that was the case, why had it bothered him that she was debuting? What had struck him? That a bastard would debut in society? That Cregan would allow such a thing? That he hadn’t betrothed her to someone the moment her virtue was called into question? That he hadn’t betrothed her to him?
He stopped short at that last thought. Was that what he wanted? Did he want to marry Sarah? He had never considered it until that moment. No, he did not love Sarah, but he could consider her a friend, and a marriage without love but with friendship seemed more tolerable than a marriage without either. After all, sooner or later, he would have to marry, and since Sarah had debuted, she was now eligible in society and before his family.
With that in mind, Jacaerys straightened up, ready to go to his friend and ask for his sister's hand. However, the sound of crying stopped him. He peeked around and found a young lady with her hair down, crying inconsolably. Jacaerys looked around for her companion but saw no one, so he cautiously approached her and asked,
“Are you alright?”
The young lady lifted her head, and as she locked her gaze onto his, the girl’s clear eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and a couple of tears slid down her pale cheeks. Her pink lips were slightly parted, and her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders.
Jacaerys was taken aback by the young woman's beauty. Suddenly, he forgot where he was, who he was, and what he was about to do—all because of the golden-haired girl with the shining eyes who had crossed his path.