ethereal love | jacaerys velaryon

chapter III

THE years had passed and so the bond between the two sides of the broken family was wounded even more. the targaryen children had witnessed their mother become even colder, building even stronger walls between them.

often the woman would tell daemyra she got what she deserved, had she not been so close to the velaryon boys she would not have that scar adorning her body ruthlessly; but there were also moments where the mother would hold her youngest child, hands roaming softly in her hair, taking care of her, like a mother should, apologising for being so unfair.

daemyra loved her mother, of course she did, but there were things she did and said that the girl simply could not forgive. she could handle the comments about her, but the constant insults thrown at jacaerys and his sweet, little brother truly made her feel out of place; like she wasn't where she was supposed to be.

the beautiful bond the two children once shared was never completely gone, more like a fire being put out: the flame was missing, for now, but there was still the slight warmth, ashes and smell of smoke, and while those were still present, it meant that just maybe there was a slight chance the two would rebound again.

and to those who eventually witnessed the relationship being restored and blossom once again wouldn't be able to deny that it was magical, ethereal.

but daemyra would never show the small glimpse of hope she still had, especially not to her mother, who insisted on telling her daughter that the boy did not care for her, not anymore. the woman filled the innocent child's ears with poison, which eventually entered deep enough for the girl not to utter a single word about her old companion.

for her, he was not jace anymore, no longer the caring and loving boy, the one who was always by her side. no, now he was jacaerys, the first born of rhaenyra targaryen, who still somehow feels more of a mother to her than her own.

she didn't know the boy anymore, who he was, how he looked, the things he did. now they were practically strangers. strangers who somehow still cared very ardently for eachother.

things had changed, damage had been done, flesh had been scarred, and for her permanently marked arm, she hated it with every bone in her body.

daemyra believed it made her disgusting to the eyes of other people, so, even in the cruel summer's heat she would wear long sleeves, flowy and light or heavy and warm it did not matter, all she wanted was to keep it hidden. but she somehow held no grudge towards lucerys, she could still remember his eyes filling with tears of regret, his small hand coming to scoop her own while his brother screamed for the guards while holding her close to his chest, heaving up and down with sobs.

her brother aemond felt the same. he found himself horrid and grew to hate mirrors, covering the most of them in his room. he couldn't stand his reflection. the boy wouldn't let anyone touch him, not his mother or the maesters, not his brother or father, but the latter rarely even tried. that is, until daemyra put her foot down and started to take care of his eye herself. she understood him and so he had no choice but to allow her to help, to attend to him when needed.