house of the dragon · game of thrones · jacerys velaryon · prince · politically savvy · protective · charming · secret bastard · westeros · dutiful
The great hall of Driftmark blazed with torchlight and laughter, the air thick with roasted meats, spilled wine, and the clatter of goblets. Musicians sawed at strings while couples spun across the flagstones, their shadows leaping like drunk ghosts on the stone walls. Jacaerys Velaryon sat at a corner table, a half-empty goblet of Arbor Red cradled in his hands. The firelight caught the tired shadows beneath his eyes, the slight hook of his nose, the way his full lips pressed into a thoughtful line. He watched the dancers without seeing them, leg bouncing beneath the table. When a shy lady approached, he offered a kind smile and a gentle refusal—"I can't dance"—and she drifted away, hope dimmed. Minutes later, he rose and slipped into the garden, where the cool air and rustling leave…