Jaehaerys Targaryen sat in his chair and attentively listened to the words of Maester Alwyn. This was his favorite part of the day along with his music lessons. Alone with his Maester, learning about the history of the Realm and how it was run. Sparring with Ser Jaime was a close second, but there was always a chance of trouble then. No, only in the Maester's and Septa's chambers did he ever feel truly safe.
Those pale purple eyes, the only feature he had inherited from his father, were wide as he listened to him retell the history of Daeron's Conquest. The Young Dragon was his favorite Targaryen, he decided.
"...Of course, the Young Dragon's folly would have long-lasting consequences on the Seven Kingdoms," the Maester continued. He had a mane of silver hair, the skin on his face pulled taut over his features, but even at the age of one-and-ten, Jahaerys stood as tall as his Maester.
"Folly!" Jae cried, outraged. The Maester was telling him about the Young Dragon's brilliant victories only a moment earlier! "What do you mean? He conquered Dorne. He was brilliant!"
The Maester didn't know what he was talking about, Jae decided. He peered at him closely. Maybe he was Dornish himself, that would explain it.
Alwyn smiled at Jae's exuberance. He was one of the few people that would smile at him in any way and Jae cherished him for it. "He defeated Dorne, my Prince, he did not conquer it."
"What's the difference?" Jae asked with a frown.
"Conquering something means you keep it. Daeron did not." Alwyn watched his young ward closely.
"It's not his fault the Dornish killed Lord Tyrell like that."
"Isn't it?" Alwyn raised an eyebrow. "You can say the Dornish did not fight honorably, or you can say Daeron was a fool for expecting them to. He did not consider who he was fighting, and so he lost."
Jae's brows furrowed as he thought about the Maester's words. Maybe Daeron wasn't his favorite Targaryen. Ser Jaime had told him many times that war was about more than just swords. Maybe that's what he meant.
"So what should he have done, then?" Jae asked.
"Read the histories and considered that even if Aegon's dragons hadn't made Dorne bow, neither would his swords," Maester Alwyn said.
But then the Seven Kingdoms would never become Seven Kingdoms, there would only be Six Kingdoms and that just didn't sound as good. Surely it was better this way. He wondered if even the Maester knew the answer. He was starting to realize even the grown-ups didn't know everything.
He would figure it out. He blocked out the Maester's words as he thought about it but quickly amended his silent declaration; he would figure it out, one day.
After about an hour of history lessons, it was time for him to do sums. Jaehaerys excelled at it, he could always understand the Maester's lectures, but they also bored him to no end. Still, he studies dutifully, because it was far better than wandering around the Red Keep.
When he stepped out of the Maester's chambers, the familiar feeling of dread pooled in his stomach. Ser Jaime was walking behind him, the closest thing Jaehaerys had to a friend, but even he wouldn't be able to protect him from everyone.
Lord Connington had appointed Ser Jaime as his sworn sword back when he was still little. Jaehaerys knew Ser Jaime was disliked as well and decided to like him for that alone. They had something in common! It took a while for Ser Jaime to stop looking at him like he was a piece of dirt on his shoe, but it happened!
One day, after he had drilled the Maester for all the information he could reveal about the end of the Rebellion, he had asked Ser Jaime why he had killed the King.
Jaehaerys didn't know everything but he knew that he was smart – Maester Alwyn always said so – and it made no sense to him. The war was over, the Usurper dead. Why would Ser Jaime want to kill the King?
Ser Jaime stood before him in his golden armor, his golden hair swept back, but his cocky grin had evaporated to leave a pale mask in its place. Then he laughed a breathless laugh, both cynical and disbelieving. "How is it that the first person to ask me that is an eight-year-old boy?" he asked.
And then Ser Jaime told him a story. It gave Jae nightmares for weeks on end, but he learned Ser Jaime wasn't what all those mean people called him. He was the greatest knight in the Seven Kingdoms, and Jaehaerys made sure to tell him so. It was only right. Those mean people were idiots, he decided, and he would never be like them.
Ser Jaime became much nicer after that, always ready to help Jae and explain things he didn't understand. More than anything, Jae loved to learn how to fight from Ser Jaime. One day he would be big and strong and Viserys wouldn't be able to touch him.
His feet took him to his chambers as quickly as they could. He passed by servants as he walked, all of whom bowed when he passed even if he could see it in their eyes – they were just like all the other mean people.
"Well, well, if it isn't the Bane of Westeros and the Kingslayer," said a familiar voice.
Jae looked to the side to find Viserys walking down the hallway towards him, the usual gaggle of squires laughing along at his words.
"What a lovely pair you two make," Viserys added, running a hand through his long silver hair. A tragic mistake in Jae's opinion as it only helped accentuate his sharp, cruel features.
From an early age, Daemon knew he hated Viserys. The worst thing was, Ser Jaime couldn't protect him from his uncle. Jaehaerys had hated the knight the first time it happened, even as Ser Jaime looked on the verge of tears and begged for forgiveness.
It took some time, but Jaehaerys eventually did. Ser Jaime wasn't the one he was really angry at. He was too weak to defend himself from Viserys no matter how grueling the training session with Ser Jaime became, Jaehaerys couldn't fight him off.
Recognizing the problem, Ser Jaime made Jae promise that he would always run and hide when they stumbled across Viserys in a place with few witnesses. Ser Jaime showed him a couple of entrances into secret passages and Jaehaerys took him from there. He'd learned most of them by heart and he knew one of them hid just around the corner.
Without wasting a second, he dropped his books and ran off, hoping Ser Jaime would buy him a second or two of a head start. Judging by the shouting behind him, Jaime must've stepped in the way. Jae ran around a corner, nearly hitting a maid with hands full of linens, and ran on until he reached an alcove. There was a statue of Jaehaerys the Conciliator in it, but most people didn't know about the entrance to the secret passages hidden behind it.
He pulled open the ledge, jumped inside, and quietly closed the latch behind him. He stayed in place, careful not to make a sound until he heard Viserys and those stupid squires run by. Only then did he allow himself to breathe freely and crawl further down the passageway.
He had these parts memorized though there was still much more left to explore. He took one turn after another, knowing his location even in the dark.
About fifteen minutes later, he came out of the floor in the Sept, peaking out to see if there was anyone near. Only Ser Jaime stood leaning against one of the columns, a hand on the hilt of his sword and a wry smile on his face. Jae quickly pulled himself out before putting the loose tile back in its place.
"Ready for your music lessons?" Ser Jaime asked as he pulled away from the pillar.
Jaehaerys straightened his clothes, did his best to clean himself of all the dirt, and nodded.
He had started with his music lessons at first because the Septa had offered and because it stopped Viserys from attacking him. Jae had no talent for the harp. The Septa and Ser Jaime insisted his father had been a master, which made Jae try his best, but his fingers couldn't remember the sequences and on more than one occasion the Septa reminded him to stop treating the strings as though he was attending archery practice. Still, he had some spare time between his lessons with the Maester and his sparring with Ser Jaime and he couldn't spend all of it barred in his room, reading.
He made his way to the Septa's quarters to find her already waiting for him, a small smile on her face. After all these years, he still didn't know the color of her hair, though her bushy black eyebrows fostered certain suspicions.
"Ready for your lesson?" she asked.
"I suppose," Jaehaerys said with a shrug. The tips of his fingers would hurt by the end, but he preferred the feeling to a kick in the ribs.
It was late afternoon before he came out of the Septa's quarters, Ser Jaime wearing that familiar grin on his face. He always had it when it came time for them to spar. He trained Jae with a relentless efficiency, claiming it was for his own good, but Jae privately thought Ser Jaime just liked winning.
They made their way to the outer courtyard. The Red Keeps Master-At-Arms bowed to Jaehaerys when they arrived, helped him put on some protective padding, and gave him a blunted tourney sword.
"So, my Prince, ready to lose again?"
Jaehaerys did not know what to say, so he stuck out his tongue and went on the attack. He slashed to the left, just like Jaime taught him to, trying to keep his balance and set his feet right. Ser Jaime lazily deflected the swing, but then slashed downward with lightning speed. He aimed to hit Jae's blade just above the crossguard. It always ended up which is why Jae had learned to anticipate it.
Rather than hold his sword upright, Jae lifted his elbow, pointing the sword downwards. Ser Jaime's blow glanced right off it and Jaehaerys swung side-ways, hitting Ser Jaime's shield on the side. It gave him an opening and Jaehaerys thrust forth at his chest. For a moment he saw a chance, but then Ser Jaime stepped back and deflected the thrust with ease, laughing all the while. In his eagerness to finally land a blow on Jaime, he'd over-extended and so stumbled forth.
"Oh, the little dragon is learning," Ser Jaime said and hit him on the behind with the flat of his blade, knowing it would only make him angrier. But Jaime had told him sometimes men would say things to get under his skin and force him to make a mistake.
So he stood in place, waiting for Jaime to make his first move. Jaime always told him the fight could last as long as he liked. Thirty seconds or five hours. Defeat was never a certain as long as he focused on his footwork and his balance.
The two of them went on and on until Jaehaerys panted from exhaustion and hurt all over from the blows. His right wrist hurt especially. He shuddered to think how he would feel if Jaime wasn't holding back.
Probably nothing, since I'd be dead, he thought ruefully as he took off his padding and trekked back to his chambers. In his tired state, he even forgot to worry about Viserys, but then the man was usually too busy drinking in the evenings to care about Jaehaerys.
His supper was waiting for him in his chambers. Jaehaerys dug into it with gusto, feeling his tiredness getting to him by the time he finished his meal. Jae took off his clothes and collapsed into bed.
Jaehaerys stood in the courtyard of the Red Keep, trying not to fidget. He'd done this many times before, he told himself. This was no different.
He stood apart from Lord Connington and Prince Viserys and while they were both wearing red and black, Jae wore grey and white. He couldn't be sure why, but he didn't mind; if it made him different from Viserys, Jae could accept it without issue.
The two stood a bit ahead of him as a party of horsemen rode through the gates, flying yellow and black colors. They were Baratheons, Jae knew. It was one of the first sigils he had learned.
They were also traitors, or that's what Lord Connington always said. He said they were vile and should be despised. But Jae's Uncle was also a traitor and he didn't want to despise him. Besides, he didn't like Lord Connington much anyway. He was as mean and angry around Jaehaerys, just like Viserys.
He decided he would have to see for himself as he watched a large man dismount from his horse. He had short hair, a receding hairline, stormy blue eyes, and a face that looked like it had never smiled, wearing a black doublet with a golden stag on his chest.
Jae watched him approach and fought the urge to take a step back. The man intimidated him. He walked up to Lord Connington but he did not bow or kneel like people usually did. He only said, "Lord Connington, Prince Viserys."
"It is customary to kneel in front of your rulers, traitor," Prince Viserys said but Stannis Baratheon did not get angry. The other nobles shifted and exchanged whispers at the words. They were right to, Jae thought, Viserys was being rude.
"It is customary to kneel in front of one's King." Stannis looked around as though he expected to find one. "I see no King here." Then his eyes landed on Jaehaerys.
Seeing Viserys' impotent instantly stirred a feeling of warmth in Jae, but he still stiffened when Lord Stannis walked came closer and crouched in front of him.
"Never hesitate to look people in the eyes," Ser Jaime had told him and he wouldn't. His mother never would.
He swallowed heavily but kept eye contact with Lord Stannis, though he wanted nothing more than to run away. Lord Stannis looked away first, but not before he examined Jaehaery from head to toe. Jae had the urge to look down, too, afraid he had dirtied his clothes again. What would Lord Stannis think of him?
"Nice to meet you, Prince Jaehaerys," Lord Stannis finally said.
"A pleasure to meet you too, Lord Baratheon." Jae bowed, remembering all the courtesies he'd been taught. "Welcome to King's Landing," he added after he remembered neither Connington nor Viserys had said it.
The corners of Lord Baratheon's lips seemed to twitch before he nodded again and looked at Lord Connington, who glared at Jae with a passion.
Lord Stannis raised an eyebrow. "I trust quarters have been prepared for my men?"
"Yes, Lord Stannis," Lord Connington replied. "As have yours. If you will follow the servants, they will lead you there." And with that, Lord Connington turned on his heel and marched away, Viserys right behind him.
That confused Jae. Connington often showed very little regard for their visitors, especially those he considered traitors, but he'd never displayed such a lack of manners before. Jae found himself in the courtyard alone with no one but Ser Jaime, feeling awkward. He knew he should do something, but didn't know what.
This stern man intrigued him, so he felt he might as well walk him to his chambers.
"I can show you the way if you like, My Lord," he said, trying to smile but knowing he came off as a fool.
Lord Baratheon regarded him in surprise and Jae anxiously waited for what he'd say. "Lead the way then, My Prince."
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Come, Ser Jaime." Jae looked over his shoulder to find the knight looking at him with a bemused smile.
As they walked the corridors, Jae tried desperately to think of something to say. Then he remembered Connington mentioning the 'treacherous stag had another fawn'. He was pretty sure that meant Lord Stannis had a son. Second son.
Those courtesies saved him again. "I've heard you've had a son, Lord Baratheon. Um... congratulations. I hope he is well." He cursed himself again. He couldn't even get that right, how stupid was he?
"Thank you, Your Grace," Lord Baratheon replied as they walked, "Steffon is well, as is his mother."
You forgot to ask about his mother, Jae berated himself. Could this have gone any worse?
"And your first son?" Jae asked, struggling to remember the name. "Orys, yes?" His hands fidgeted behind his back.
Stannis nodded, walking with his hands behind his back as well, his spine ramrod straight. "He is well too. He started his lessons with the sword not too long ago. He is close to your age, Your Grace."
"Really?" Jae asked excitedly. "Could you bring him along sometime?" he asked far too hopefully and quickly scolded himself for it. Connington would never allow it.
"Mayhaps, Your Grace," Lord Stannis replied, watching him very intensely for some reason.
The arrival to Lord Stannis' chambers came as a relief, a chance to escape the disaster. "Here you go, My Lord."
"Thank you for your help, Your Grace... and your kind words," Lord Stannis said, looking down at him with those cold eyes.
He could only nod and get away as fast as he could.
"That was well done," Ser Jaime said when they rounded a corner.
Jae didn't know what Jaime meant. "I made a fool of myself!"
"No." Jaime shook his head, "You were polite and thoughtful. Far better than those two cunts," he said and Jae giggled at the word. Seeing it, even Ser Jaime cracked a smile.
Both smiles died down when they found the door to his chambers open, Lord Connington and Viserys standing there, both of them glaring at him.
"You will not be attending the feast this evening," Connington said curtly. Connington had a head of red hair people claimed had lost its luster, and a curly beard he reportedly trimmed every day. The robes he wore always came in a combination of red and white, the embroidered griffins on his doublet ready to take flight.
"Why not?" Jae asked. As a Prince, his absence would be noted.
"Because we can't let you embarrass our House any further," Viserys told him.
"Viserys is correct. I will leave you with him so you can discuss things further." He left then, closing the door behind him and leaving Ser Jaime on the other side.
There was no escape now. There was one secret passage that led out of his room but he couldn't use it now. Best case, Viserys would know how Jae managed to escape him so often. Worst case, he would figure out that he can sneak into his chambers without anyone knowing about it, though that might be expecting too much of the man.
Jae tried to fight back, he really did, but Viserys pushed him to the ground and started kicking him. "How dare you talk to that filthy traitor!" he raged as kicked him again. "You think he'll help you? No one will help you! Because no one cares!"
Jaime cares, Jaehaerys told himself as he curled into a ball at the edge of the bed. That way, Viserys at least couldn't kick him in the back.
When it was finally all over, Jaehaerys wept on the floor and hated himself for it, while Viserys laughed cruelly and walked out of the room. He was so weak. Jaime told him his father had been a brave warrior and his had been mother fierce and untameable. Jae felt like neither.
He heard the jiggling of armor and looked up to find Jaime standing there. He leaned down and picked him off the floor, placing him on the bed.
"What's the point?" Jae asked through his sobs. "Everyone hates me. Even my family. I should've never been born."
There was a beat of silence. "Never say that, Jaehaerys. People do care for you."
"Who? They all hate me for starting the war. You're the only person who's nice to me. I wish... I wish I could just run away. Then I'd never have to deal with all these mean people again."
"How about Maester Alwyn?" Ser Jaime asked. Jae had nothing to say to that. "And Septa Wylla? They're nice, aren't they?"
Jae nodded in agreement, furiously wiping away his tears. "B—But---" he hiccupped, "Won't they just kill me?" he spoke one of his biggest fears out loud for the first time. "Prince Oberyn said Viserys wants to be King. Won't he just have me killed?"
"He can try."
"But who's going to stop him? You can't?"
"You can," Ser Jaime looked him right in the eyes.
"Me? B—But I am no one. I don't have any power. I can't even fight well."
"You are Jaehaerys Targaryen, Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. A dragon. You have more power than you know and you can use it to save yourself. To help people."
"How?" Jae demanded, angry that Jaime was telling him things that couldn't be done.
Jaime sighed, but then looked sharply at him. "How bad is it?" he said, looking down at his body.
"Not too bad," Jae admitted. "I blocked most of it with my hands and knees."
Jaime nodded and Jae could tell he had come to a decision. "Grab a cloak, I'm going to show you something."
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see," Jaime said cryptically. "Wait for me here, I'll be back in a couple of minutes."
Jae did as he was told and waited until Jaime returned with a dark cloak of his own, pulled over his head. "Come, follow me," he said. Jae did not bother asking about their destination again. Something told him Jaime wouldn't answer no matter how many times he asked.
When they reached the Tower of the Hand, Jae worried that Jaime meant to take him to Connington but then Jaime took him down the stairs instead of up. When they got to the bottom, Jaime pushed a closet against the wall aside to reveal a door. Jae's eyes went wide. He had found another entrance to the passageways.
Ser Jaime entered, gesturing for Jae to follow. They walked through the darkness for a while before they came out of a hole beneath the walls of the Red Keep, hidden from view by the trees. Jae looked up, wide-eyed. Oh, all the possibilities that came with this.
"You didn't think you were the only one who knows your way around the secret passageways, did you?" Ser Jaime grinned and led on. Judging by their position, they were headed down to Flea Bottom. Jaime made sure to keep Jae's face hidden, but he could recognize his surroundings based on how they looked from the Red Keep. If that wouldn't have clued him in, the smell certainly would. Jae wrinkled his nose. The smell of feces permeated the air and he stumbled from one filthy puddle into the next, and before long he gave up trying to avoid them.
"Look there." Jaime stopped and pointed at a shabby building, the corners of it chipping, the window frames splintered beyond repair. "That's the King's Landing orphanage."
Jae noticed the kids running around in torn clothes with no shoes, covered in filth. They look half-starved too.
"The girls will be lucky if they end up as servants and cooks. The unlucky ones will be turned into whores or worse. The boys will either end up on the gallows, the Wall or as soldiers in some Lord's army. That's all they can hope from life."
He grabbed Jae by the shoulders and forced him to turn his way. "I know you don't have an easy life, Jaehaerys, but you're still a Prince. You still have a chance. They don't. And you can help them. You're the only one who can because no one else cares. The gold in your pocket alone could keep them all fed for weeks."
The pouch he had on him suddenly felt a lot heavier. He never even thought to use it. Lord Connington was forced to give him an allowance because Jaehaerys was expected to buy something from the merchants when they visited the Red Keep. Jae never did, but the gold kept coming and he stashed it in his room. He'd saved up a nice little pile.
"But I'm just—" he said but didn't finish the sentence. "—a stupid, weak boy."
"You don't have to be strong, Jae," Jaime said. "I could beat my father in a fight with ease, but no one ever said I was more powerful." He took a deep breath. "There are other kinds of power. That's what you need to get. Lord Varys probably never held a sword in his life but everyone's afraid of him."
They're afraid of him because he knows things, Jae thought. But he could learn too. Sneaking around the secret passageways, he often overheard conversations. He never paid attention, because it felt wrong to eavesdrop, but maybe he should have.
Jaime put a finger on his chin and made him look in the eye. "Fight back, Jaehaerys. Any way you can."
Jae swallowed the lump in his throat. He was being a coward. All he'd been trying to do is avoid anyone that might hurt him when he should've been fighting back. But he could start now.
"Ser Jaime," he said and now his voice was so different, it made Jaime straighten up. He pulled the pouch of his hip. "Could you give this to the matron, please?"
Ser Jaime stared at him for a little while before he took it. He walked to the orphanage and handed the pouch to an older woman. When she saw the gold inside, she nearly broke down in tears and began thanking Jaime profusely.
It only furthered Jae's resolve. He wouldn't be a coward anymore and he wouldn't wallow in self-pity. His life might be tough, but others had it worse – and that meant he could help.
He walked back to the Red Keep with a determined spring in his step.
It was time he started acting like a dragon.