Author note at the end.
55 dollars Jordon, 55 fucking dollars of sides, 55 dollars of fucking sides?
What these sides cure cancer?
Yes they infact cure cancer.
I didn’t know what to write here, so I just wrote some Wolf of Wall Street stuff.
You guys are awesome by the way, like thank you so much, no kidding.
You know that feeling you get in your stomach when a plane starts rolling down the runway and then lifts, the low vibration through the seat, the sudden pressure in your chest, the way the ground falls away?
Riding a dragon is nothing like that.
A dragon is closer to a motorcycle.
You feel every shift of the air against your face.
If you swallow a bug or catch a piece of debris, that’s on you.
Safety is not part of the package.
Thrill, however, is very much included.
So, to be clear: I had just taken Jeyne on a motorcycle ride a few thousand feet above the Vale.
How cool was that?
“This is the worst decision I have ever made!” she screamed directly into my ear.
Her arms were locked around my chest so tightly I could only take half-breaths.
Her legs had somehow ended up wrapped around me, and her face was pressed hard against the side of my neck, eyes screwed shut.
“Let me down! Let me down this instant! The dream is dead, I do not wish to follow it anymore!”
I only laughed and pulled the reins back.
Tessarion answered at once, surging upward with powerful beats of her wings.
“I said down!” Jeyne shrieked.
“I’m sure you’re saying something important,” I called over the rush of air, “but the wind up here makes it difficult to hear clearly.”
I could hear her perfectly, of course.
“I just heard you perfectly fine!” she shouted back.
Ah.
Logic has entered the chat, which means she can still think straight, which means she’s not quite scared enough yet.
I tugged the reins hard to the right.
Tessarion tucked her wings and did a tight barrel roll.
“ARGHHH!”
I laughed harder, then finally straightened us out and let the dragon climb at a gentler angle.
After another minute the frantic wingbeats eased.
Tessarion leveled into a smooth, soaring glide.
The roaring wind softened to a steady rush.
“My lady,” I said, smiling, “open your eyes. You’re about to see something worth the terror.”
Jeyne’s breathing gradually slowed against my cheek.
After a long hesitation she blinked her eyes open and froze.
Below us stretched an endless sea of white.
The clouds looked like a vast flock of sheep pressed tightly together, drifting across an ocean of pure blue.
In the distance the Mountains rose like dark islands, their snow-capped peaks catching the high sun and glowing warm against the cold air.
I felt her head turn from side to side as she tried to take it all in at once.
I gave Tessarion a light pat.
My queen descended until her claws skimmed the upper surface of the cloud layer.
“Touch them,” I said, nodding downward.
Jeyne hesitated, then carefully extended one hand.
Her fingers brushed through the moving white mist, the clouds parted around us as we glided lower.
Looking at the range from this height, I finally understood why they called the mountain the Giant’s Lance.
It really did resemble a sleeping giant, and the Eyrie sat neatly upon what might have been its shoulder, a pale, elegant cluster of towers rising from grey stone.
“It’s beautiful,” Jeyne whispered.
“Father,” she murmured, so quietly I almost missed it, “are you seeing this? I am flying.”
I kept my smile small as I began the descent in earnest.
“This is what your ancestors saw,” I told her as Tessa swept in a wide arc around the white towers of the Eyrie, “when they first came to these mountains and raised your castle. You are an Arryn who has flown, just as they once did. Jeyne Arryn, the Flying Falcon.”
I glanced sideways at her.
“Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
She let out a short, breathless snort that was almost a laugh.
“It does.”
I pulled the reins in gently and Tessarion banked, then settled with surprising grace onto the grass field below the Gates of the Moon, wings folding tight against her sides.
The flight was over.
I released the riding straps and slid down Tessarion’s side, boots hitting the grass with a soft thud.
I steadied myself, then looked up.
“My lady, your hand.” I raised both arms.
“You’ll have to jump. I promise I’ll catch you.”
Jeyne gave a reluctant nod, gathered her skirts as best she could, and pushed herself away from the dragon’s back.
She slid down the warm blue scales.
I caught her firmly around the waist with both hands and guided her the rest of the way.
For a moment her feet still dangled clear of the ground.
Her arms had locked around my neck on instinct, and her body pressed flush against my chest.
I held her with just enough strength that she could have pushed free and dropped the remaining distance if she wanted.
She did not.
I tilted my head back slightly and found her staring down at me.
Something I hadn’t noticed in the rush of the flight was suddenly impossible to ignore, there was a slight warmth between us.
She looked flushed, her cheeks were pink, her breathing still a little uneven.
Is she blushing?
Have I made the Maiden of the Vale blush?
A smug smirk curled across my mouth.
“Have I made the lady blush?”
Her eyes widened as she blinked hard, then answered with a flash of mock outrage that didn’t quite fit her expression.
“How dare you speak to me in such a fashion! Let me down this instant.”
“As you command.”
I opened my hands.
She gave a short yelp of pure panic as she dropped, only for me to catch her again a heartbeat later, this time even closer.
Her face was mere inches from mine.
Her chest pressed against my chest and her breath brushed my lips.
I held her there and spoke quietly.
“You have given your hand to me twice now, Lady Jeyne.” My voice stayed low.
“What is stopping you from doing it forever?”
The question seemed to short-circuit whatever composure she had left.
Her face went a deeper red and her gaze darted away.
The words that followed came out tangled and half-formed.
“It— this is— a prince should not speak— I don’t—”
“My lady.” A voice cut cleanly across the moment, causing us both to turn.
Well, I suppose that answers the question of what’s stopping her.
Jessamyn stood at the edge of the grass field with a small band of guards behind her.
Her arms were crossed and a thoroughly mischievous smirk sat comfortably on her lips.
“It seems you cherished the ride more than I expected,” she called, the cheeky smile widening as Jeyne immediately pushed herself free of my arms and dropped lightly onto the grass.
“Has the pretty prince swept you off your feet, my lady?”
Jeyne remained frozen for a moment, looking too startled to form a proper reply, so in her stead I shook my head and answered for her.
“I think not, Lady Redfort.” I kept my tone mild.
“The lady possesses a stubborn heart. Not just any pretty prince could steal it away. Whoever managed it is someone I would truly have to respect.” Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Jessamyn chuckled.
“As you should, my prince.”
I turned slightly and extended a hand toward her.
“Now that Lady Arryn has been safely returned to her keep, perhaps it is time I took you into the air as well. I believe you mentioned the idea a few hundred times this past week.”
She took my hand without hesitation and with a quick assist she climbed onto Tessarion’s back in one smooth motion, leaving Jeyne still standing on the grass, her expression caught somewhere between shock and residual embarrassment.
Truth be told, I had spoken far more with Jessamyn over the past week than with Jeyne herself.
Jessamyn was an easy conversationalist, she was endlessly curious as she had trailed after me through the halls asking about Oldtown, about King’s Landing, about dragons, about everything under the sun.
She really had this tomboy energy and I’m sure In another life, in a modern world, she would have rocked a sharp bob cut with the ends dyed some defiant shade of pink or blue.
She was also a touch reckless too.
One afternoon she bursted into my chamber with a stolen pie from the kitchens when she could have simply ordered one.
The theft seemed to amuse her more than the pastry itself.
It made a certain sense, the longer I watched them.
Jeyne had been raised from childhood as the heir by her father, she was trained to lead, hence she was responsible to the point of stiffness, meanwhile Jessamyn, as her lady-in-waiting, had been free to remain the cheeky, impulsive counterweight.
And somewhere in the middle of that realization, an unwelcome comparison slid into place.
This was what Alicent and Rhaenyra might have been, if their positions had been reversed or perhaps if the world had been kinder.
Alicent the careful, duty-bound one while Rhaenyra the reckless spark.
What stood before me now felt like a quieter, healthier version of that same pairing.
At least compared to the version I remembered from the show.
I pushed the thought aside and settled behind Jessamyn on Tessarion’s back.
Below us, Jeyne still had not moved.
I gave her a small, polite nod, then turned my attention forward as the Blue Queen gathered herself for another flight.
Jessamyn was no Jeyne.
The moment Tessarion’s wings caught the air and the ground fell away, she released her grip on me entirely.
Both arms shot upward as she let out a long, unrestrained scream of pure delight that the wind immediately tried to steal.
She kept it up for a solid minute before her voice finally cracked and she quieted, settling more comfortably behind me.
“I have heard the old tales,” she said, still a little breathless, “of men who stole noble ladies away on horseback or by ship in the night. When I first saw you take flight with her, I half-expected you to simply keep going and disappear over the mountains with my lady.”
I didn’t answer at once.
I only glanced back at her with a small smile.
“Half a mind I had to do exactly that, Lady Redfort,” I admitted, smirking.
Jessamyn gasped theatrically and pressed a hand to her mouth.
“You are one of them!” she declared, still playing the part.
“Please, my prince, do not. I would be left all alone in those high, lonely halls. How tragic.”
I tilted my head, reached back, and caught one of her hands, giving it a light squeeze.
“Then perhaps I should steal you away as well,” I said.
She threw her head back and laughed, the sound bright against the rush of wind.
“How dastardly and daring of you, my prince. You have some nerve admitting you would abduct not one but two ladies of high birth.”
“It seems one of them is far less enthusiastic about the idea of being carried off by a pretty prince than the other,” I replied with a chuckle of my own.
Jessamyn’s fingers drifted up into my hair, idly playing with the short strands as she gazed out over the rolling clouds.
“She likes the idea well enough,” she said, softer now, almost thoughtful.
“I believe she simply does not know it yet.”
I shook my head, still smiling, as Tessarion began a gentle downward glide.
“And it seems I will not have the time to wait and see for myself,” I said.
“For my duty is calling me elsewhere.”
A/N: Ok first of all, let me address it.
I’m sorry I skipped like a week’s time in the story and did not flush out the interaction between Jessamyn and Daeron but I feel like I summarised the interactions between them enough to know what happened.
Also no, Jessamyn has not said anything about her and Jeyne being a thing to Daeron, so it’s just Daeron having fun with the flirt because he knows what their true relationship is.
Also the parallel with Rhae and Ali, am I the only one seeing that?
And finally… actually the line above was the final thing I wanted to say, so I have no idea why I’m writing this… and I’m too lazy to delete all this now.
See you next chapter.