Chapter Text
Rhaenyra had a head on her shoulders, a sharp, cocky but intelligent brain that made each retort to her stepmother´s - ugh - Alicent's nasty words towards her effortless and quick, not even showing a reaction. She had claimed her position for the throne, her marriage to Laenor Velaryon successful, only on paper, even if she knew the child in her belly had probability to not be his, Laenor did not care, nor would the continent, both her husband´s mother and her own lover had dark hair. It would be just those moments in the Targaryen history where the dragon rider didn't have white locks. Nothing new, nothing strange.
By the time she was halfway through her pregnancy, Viserys decided to make her claim to the throne official. And who could disobey? She was the second Dragon shifter in the history of house Targaryen, following Maegor the Cruel himself. And even surprised everyone by not only being able to shift into her black dragon form at just five years old, having full control of her body, but by seven claiming a dragon. It was impossible, said the Dragon keepers, why would a Targaryen that was already a dragon herself need to have one? But it happened, the young Dragon Syrax recognizing seven year old Rhaenyra as her rider, it only confirmed what everyone already knew. She was a Targaryen, not princess, it comes too short. She was a Targaryen Queen.
She had both smarts and luck, and she knew it.
The small child was just a tiny little worm in her eyes, red faced, frowning as he cried once she had pushed hard enough. But the feeling of claiming, of protecting from the hands of her midwives, women that she had known all her life, came as natural as breathing. She was an Alpha, and Alpha´s protected those who belonged to them.
The squirmy little boy settles instantly once Rhaenyra brings him to her chest, letting out the softest coo before his little eyes open. Even though he was squinting from the morning light, yes, his birth was all night long, it was obvious the two colours on her son's orbs. Brown and Purple. His little tail sneaking from the blanket cocooning him and brushing against his mother´s wrist, little ears floppy against thin strands of brown hair.
"Uh.." She starts, admiring her son's scrunched face, while the tiny babe looks like he´s at all not impressed by the new world he was seeing. "What a grumpy face, little prince.." Chuckling to herself, the Princess gives her son such a deep and sorrowful smile. Elinda, her loyal midwife and maid, lets out a sigh, the tension from the whole birth finally dissipating, cat ears finally relaxing against her scalp, tail slowly swishing, as she prepares the proper nightwear for such a small little thing.
"What is the name of the little prince, My Lady?" Clara, her other maid from her tight group of three loyal servants, asks gently, fuzzy bunny tail almost jumping in excitement, even if she tries to steady her tone for the child. Her movements are careful as while cleaning the Princess young face from sweat, tying her hair in a braid so as to not disturb the newborn with loose strands.
"Jacaerys... Jacaerys Velaryon" Her voice is uncharacteristical soft, not strong and powerful like usual when she´s fighting to be heard in court. Just sweet, light, meant for the little bundle in her arms only. The babe, her little Jace, instantly paid attention. He probably didn't understand a word she was saying, but it didn't matter, his eyes were on his mother´s pretty face.
Once the Prince is dressed, he stayed calm, Elinda brings a thick, old book towards the bed where the princess was resting, had grabbed it days before from the royal library, sitting down in a nearby chair, book open on her lap. “How would you say the babe´s tail is, my lady?”
Her actions are cautious, trying to get a peek of the babe´s fur under the blanket, but not daring to disturb the territory of an Alpha with her cub. About the book, it was common for the individuals specialized in exploring the world to discover new animals, placing their knowledge in these big books so parents can acknowledge with detail their child´s shift, that way they know the instincts the child will have. For example, in the case of an avian shifter, they will tend to deal with stress in different ways than a wolf shifter. Of course, each house has their own tracking of the most common hybrids in their blood, but with the arrival of Aegon the Conqueror and the magic in the Targaryen blood to not follow their ancestors lines of species, its common for houses descended from him to have different shifters in their Leaders and family.
“How would you say his ears are?” Elinda's voice snaps the Targaryen out of her trance, had gotten lost admiring the color of her son´s eyes, Jace finally letting out a long yawn and closing his eyes, exhausted by the whole ordeal of being born.
Rhaenyra shifts the blanket covering her son's head, gently shushing him as the babe whines while the cold chill hits his skin. Triangle shaped ears folding back, well, just one of them, the other standing tall. A sign of how young the pup was, his emotions not able to control his animal-like features yet.
The prince quickly calms down at the touch of his mother, instincts recognizing her instantly. The Princess traces with her fingertips the fur of the ears on top of his hair, before shifting down to the pair of human ears on the side of his head, heart squeezing at how small they were.
“Two sets, animal and human, so not a reptile or avian.” At her words, the maid quickly skips directly to the chapter dedicated to four legged animals, “He has fur, too.” To fluffy four legged animals.
Clara peeks over the older maid's shoulder, stealing a glance towards the drawings of the different ears, then to the little worm sleeping away.
“How is his tail, your majesty?” Rhaenyra glances at the fluffy tail wrapping around her wrist, not in the way a belt would, as the fur covering it was far too thick to allow such movements, but it was long, probably able to cover half the babe´s body.
“Fox like, it seems… grey fur. That's not common, is it?” Her voice isn't alarmed, just stating a fact.
“No… but it does help us narrow down his shift, my lady.” Elinda shifts the book, gently placing it closer to Rhaenyra so she could read it herself. A red fox, but not quite, says the author. But a red fox regardless. The author had seen Red Foxes kits born with darker fur, just a trick of nature.
At the information, a new smile grows on the princess' face. Brighter, shining in delight. “The little prince is special, perhaps?" She brings her pup closer into her arms, laying the fragile little thing on her chest, nose already sniffing under the babe´s chin, searching for a scent, or lack of. It would decide his secondary gender, of course.
Her nose brushes on her son's neck, searching for the scent gland. They would be too small to release any scent noticeable to other shifters, but it is known that the parents of a cub had the ability to perceive even the faintest scents on their pups, their instincts making them notice even. And she searched his neck, because his wrist scent glands wouldn't be developed until the child was at least 5 years old.
Rhaenyra not only was smart, but she was honest. With people and with herself. And she wouldn't hide her want for the child to be a Beta. The natural instincts made them immune to scent reactions, and could still smell them, but softer. It would make her child the perfect heir, that way she can spend less time teaching him how to control his instincts, since he would have none, and more on the way politics work.
She was lost in her fantasies of how clever her child would be, she could feel it, that if it wasn't for her dragon´s senses, particularly her nose, she would have missed it.
But she didn't.
She catches it.
Raising her head, her mind starts building this child´s life like a staircase, but instead of going upwards toward success, it goes down.
Because Jacaerys was an Omega.
The hint of berries, sweet enough for them to disguise themselves as mermelade, was already making itself known. The princess quickly covers the child in its blanket, keeping him secure against her chest.
Her son was an Omega.
Her Heir was an Omega.
In the whole Targaryen line, even since their house was founded in Valyria, not a single Omega had been born into the blood of the Dragon. A sign that was instantly understood as a way for the Gods to explain no Omega, no ´weak gender´, was fit to be born from the dragon blood. It was simple. Aegon the Conqueror made it clear once he settled into the iron throne. If the event existed, if the strange occurrence of an Omega dragon rider, the child would simply exist as a royal member, the lowest in the royal family.
Never an heir.
The law was stablished, noble houses morphed around the rule, everyone had accepted it as truth.
Rhaenyra´s hands tighten into the babe´s back, gently rocking the child, as if desperately trying to create a reality where this wasn't the truth, where her son hadn't been chosen by the gods to live an unfair life from birth until his death. Used to pop out Targaryen children, expand the bloodline, but only protected from the world by an Alpha who, by a bit of luck, will actually care about him.
Her mother´s face flashes through her mind. Growing paler each day as her Father used her like a breeding mare, her dead body laying in the funeral rite before Syrax burned it, releasing her from a reality into freedom?
Should she do the same? Wait for her maids to leave, slash the babe´s throat. He wouldn't suffer, it would be quick. It would be salvation.
But her mind caught up to her feelings, making her break the train of thought born from desperation and pain, and think. The Princess speaks up in a calm manner, closing her eyes without lifting her head, a way to hide the emotions on her expression of the storm inside her.
“Please, tell my husband to enter.” The maids quickly obey, organizing the room in a quick manner, taking the bloody sheets with them and exchanging them with clean ones, cleaning the blood from in between the Targaryen´s legs. Her tail was the only sign of how deeply upset she was, curling upwards and around her arms. The pain of the scales and spikes around her dragon tail against the soft human skin slowly easing up her mind.
Rhaenyra had a brain in her shoulders, and she would not stop using it now.
“And please, inform my father. The Prince is a Beta.”
The moment Laenor enters the chambers, shiny smile on his face, long silver hair tied back with a leather strip, her expression falls. Her body is fast, standing up from the bed, ignoring the pain in her lower regions. And, as gentle as she can, shoves the Velaryon´s nose on the babe's neck.
They don't need to exchange words to come up with the same conclusion.
The man guides his wife back towards the cushion of the bed, speechless, pale. But he knows the woman by his side, and knows he will follow her lead, already figuring out the plan to do by just seeing the determined glare in the woman´s eyes.
“Well fight for him.” His words come out small, unsure. Because how could them fight tradition? Go against everything they've known? Against everything that was taught as right?
But it's the only choice that feels right.
“Only us. And Elina. Only us three. Until I reach the throne and can change the world for him.”
The Princess voice comes out deep. No longer a mother talking, but a Queen securing her heir. Though some people would say it's the same thing.
“It will be dangerous. Not only for us.” Their gaze drifts down to Jacaerys, sweet Jacaerys, completely asleep. Unbothered of the chaos his life will become.
“He will be ready. He will be stronger than us.”
The ´He has to be´ is left unsaid, but understood.
A knock on the door alerts both Alpha´s, Rhaenyra covering the small bundle with her tail, covering to not press down, but secure enough to protect the boy underneath. Laenor wraps his eagle wings around his wife, eyes slitting into the piercing glare of his hybrid.
“My lady. The Queen has requested to see the child.” Clara´s voice is clear through the door, tone strained compared to the usual cheering voice in the bunny hybrid.
The training grounds at DragonStone weren't as vast as the ones the Princes started their training in Kings Landing, but they held their ground, had really high points of comparison. First of all, and most importantly, Kings Landing didn't have Daemon Targaryen as an instructor. Though it´s known there were more skilled swordsmen in the realm, there was no one as ruthless as “The Rogue Prince”. His words were harsh, orders even more, mouth opening and showing his abnormally large canines that would frighten even the roughest winter boy. The flow of the wind messes up his already unruled hair, faint spots of black hair in between the long blonde strands, creating a gradient up to the mixed color ear on the top of his head, the almost adorable ears roughened up by slashes and missing pieces of cartilage. His long tail wrapping and playing around Dark Sister´s handle.
The sun was at its highest point in the sky, no cloud in sight. A strangely hot day for the lengthy autumn, the bright light shining into the brown and white hairs of the royal training.
Jacaerys takes a break from sparring Joffrey, long pants pulling from his lungs, hand raised in a wave while hearing his brother´s complaints and the sensation of his heart on his throat.
“Come on, Jace!! We are barely warming up!” The young boy had too much energy in his tail, it seemed.
His steps are clumsy, barely making it to the stone steep of the open halls, collapsing on the ground while groaning once the shade hits his burning skin. Daemon tosses him a fresh brought waterskin, before grabbing his sword and replacing his spot against Joffrey.
The youngest Velaryon stood tall, sharp features despite his sixteen name day moon cycles away, brownish and blond hair tied back with a loose leather, ears fluffy, moving from right to left while his eyes focus on the older man, the short nub of his tail tucked into his trousers, no one played fair in a spar. A sharp smirk growing on his mouth, he would lose for sure, but would try his hardest against their Step Father.
Once they begin, Jacaerys gaze drifts to where Luke rested on a shaded corner of the yard, having been the one training the longest, Daemon obsessed with making the avian hybrid as agile as his mammal brothers. His black wings, shorter than on his swan form, spread wide in a back and forward motion, cooling himself, while the boy wraps his bruised hands in bandages, the hilt of his sword breaking skin and causing annoying blisters.
The water hits the fox hybrid's throat like a sweet nectar, slowly calming down his racing heart. His mismatched eyes drift around the space, ears fluttering at each clash of swords, tail fluffed against his thigh, matted and dirty, had to groom it later, probably after a nice bath.
His ears pick up approaching steps, boots hitting the stone, turning to the source of the noise. Jace glances, spotting his personal Maester approaching, face unbothered by the brutal spar between dragon riders a few steps away.
“My Prince, the Suivion has been finished, thirty bottles.” The man, Maester Gerardys, has been his personal maester since he was born, the only one who could properly tend to his wounds, if they come, and the only healer in the realm to know his secret, which is why he creates the Prince's heat suppressants.
At the mention of the amount, Jacaerys strategic mind instantly picks up the strange detail standing out from his usual days. In just a quick grunt, he´s up, finishing sipping his water before approaching.
“Thank you, Gerardys.” His voice instantly steadies itself, a habit learnt by watching his Grandmother Rhaenys deal with nobbles. “But, thirty? That´s enough for more than a sun cycle, just two were enough for the next moon shift.” A frown appears on his face, the sudden change in the Fox hybrid tone, earning the attention from his stepfather in less than a second. Barely a glance, just a quick pause to make sure no one was messing with his son.
“The Crown Princess has ordered extras for the upcoming travel, my Prince.” The man voice is deep, heavy with knowledge, his mule ears flickering, once, attention shifted from the Prince in front of him and the ones currently holding weapons.
“Mother? For sure she would have informed me.” Jace's voice is calm, but with a hint of irritation. Again, his family around him has made decisions without even informing him they are meant to be taken. He gives a quick glance to Daemon, who grins back at the Prince before yelling at Luke to prepare, his turn for sparring now.
With a quick bow, Jacaerys drops his sword on a nearby table and rushes to his mother´s chambers, huffing while turning instinctively through each hall before opening the chambers doors back to back. Startling young Viserys, who squeals crow wings fluttering before he hides his little face on Rhaenyra´s skirts, a reaction different from his older brother, Aegon, who gasps and rushes over to Jace arms, lion features bouncing in excitement just as Jace catches him.
“Careful little kitten, you're not a small cub anymore.” The Queen gently scolds her blond son, while comforting the youngest. The Targaryen´s playing on a fluffy rug, under a big mural of Syrax. Her dragon tail covered in a thick metal armour, protecting those around her from the sharp scales and pointy bits, wrapping around Viserys' back. “Now, may you explain to your mother the reason for the suddenness of your arrival, Jace?”
Jacaerys lets out a soft huff, an angry expression on his face, while he kneels next to his mother and nuzzles his youngest brother´s forehead as an apology, while Aegon climbs his shoulders and messes with his fluffy ears. “Maester Gerardys has prepared Suvion.. enough for a year, and even more!” His fox ears lay flat against his head, tail fluffing following his emotions.
Rhaenyra winces, a lot of emotions for the usually stone faced Princess, the scales decorating her cheekbones up to her sharp ears shining like deep obsidian. “Your Grandfather Corlys has been gravely injured, as you know.”
“I do know that.”
“And the throne of Driftmark has never been a stable position, Vaemon Velaryon has tried to make multiple claims-”
“Over Luke's heritage, I know that too.”
Rhaenyra breathes deeply. “Boy, let me speak.”
Jace chooses to stay quiet.
“We must travel to Kings Landing to not only secure Lucery´s position, but mine as well.” Her voice turns serious, gaze hardening as the topic touches the hardships of their reality. “The king wont hang on for long, Jacaerys. We must ensure his word is not overtaken,” By who is not necessary to mention. “Not only by doing that we protect Lucerys. But my own claim to the throne, and yours.”
Jacaerys had already imagined it, he wasn't a stranger to his special situation, no, ever since he's had conscience and Laenor taught him how to apply a perfume to hide his natural scent, he's known for a fact that he was born in a lower step compared to his brothers. He has seen the way nobles treat Omega´s from either born classes, nobles and common folk, and it wasnt… nice.
“But,” His voice is soft, the topic about his secondary gender makes him vulnerable. “That would take around four moon cycles, mother. Not more than a year.”
Rhaenyra sighs, hand gently messing with her braid. Both of them watch the youngest of their family play with their toys, Viserys whining over not having his favorite dragon egg with him.
“The plan is to start working towards the safety of my reign, and the changes I'll bring. Ensure the houses respect their oaths. Which means, the whole family starting to protect their roles as royals. As Future Queen, and you, Jace, as crown Prince.”
Jacaerys frowns instantly appears once again, before the truth behind his mothers words settle on his mind. This wasn't just the start of securing her throne, but to make they create a steady ground for when the inevitable truth comes out.
After a second of quietness, Jace speaks up. “Mother, there isn´t a need to create such a problem for your claim, I could wait until I ascend.”
Rhaenyra glare would have frozen Verminthor himself. She moves, gentle but steady, and grips the Prince´s jaw.
“I will not condemn you for a life in hiding. I gave birth to you, I will win over your freedom, Jacaerys.”
His chambers were different from his brother´s. First of all, he was assigned the biggest room following being the oldest. But not only that. He remembers Laenor explaining to him, back at Kings Landing, about the murals and little details in each space of his old chambers, made by care by Rhaenyra herself, while he built and detailed his crib. Even so, his mother had sent for the best artist in the capital for a mural of the fox Jace would grow into, in his shifter form, and little Vermax flying in the sky.
Same artist that painted his brothers murals in their rooms, and that years later was commissioned to pay the walls of their new chambers at Dragon stone.
The new mural was similar, a bit boring after so many years staring at the same colors. His favorite thing, for sure, is the painting of Vermax's head over the headboard where his bed was placed. And in the deepest nights, in the darkest moments of his mind, those bronze eyes gave him an unexplainable comfort.
That, and the constant thoughts of the Dragon in his head.
Which explains why he was laying down on the covers of his bed, ready for sleep, but wide awake by the thoughts of his dragon shared through the bonding link.
“Boy, Jace, why are these bald humans touching me so much? Are they my snack?” Vermax's grumbling and raspy voice resonates through Jace head like an echo.
“For the tenth time, Vermax. Humans are not snacks.”
“But Caraxes says they are.”
“Well, Caraxes isn't a good example, is he? Now go to sleep.”
“Daor.” No.
“Rȳbās.” Obey.
Originally, the shifters in old Valirya kept their animal traits to have a constant communication with their dragons, which they detailed by making that strictly only a rider could talk and understand their bonded dragon. In modern times, it made the Targaryens even more mysterious, and even more crazy, since they were caught answering to the walls when in truth its just their dragons throwing a fit.
“Are we taking flight soon?”
Jacaerys sighs, hugging one of his pillows, making sure they were covered in his cologne.
“Yes, Vermax. Will travel to Kings Landing and stay there, you will come with me.”
“Ugh, that boring place? But here I can stretch my wings!”
“Ill take you on daily flights.” Jace answers this time out loud, too exhausted to notice, it was more than halfway through the night!
“Hmph.”
And Vermax goes to sleep, yes, because he's as bratty as a Lannister.
The dragon´s keep was bigger than Jace remembered. He watches as Vermax, Arrax and Tyraxes were lead towards the huge cave they would share, Tyraxes grumbling at the Dragon keepers before Joffrey scolds him. As the Velaryon brother´s made their way out of the Dome through one secret passage, going first while Rhaenyra and Daemon go talk with The King.
Through the underground tunnel, the Prince´s stood tall. Joffrey, the tallest, followed by Luke, just 17 years of age, but already showing the traits of a proper sailor, skin slightly tanned in freckles around his nose and cheeks, stood just an inch lower than his younger brother, the main difference between the Alpha and the Beta, is that Luke was thinner, less rough compared to Joffrey. While Jace had worked hard for his current muscular tone, had gained enough muscle to erase the usual petite body of an Omega, even so, the height difference was laughable, he was the shortest out of his brothers.
Joffrey lets out a growl under his breath, eyes eyeing every opening of the tunnels. “Cant believe these are still standing. Though for sure that Green bastard would make them collapse."
Jace lets out a sigh, walking first in a triangle formation, Joff on his left, Luke on his right. “Joffrey, mother has already scolded you for your mouth.”
“For a foul mouth, never a liar.” Luke answers, defending his brother while chuckling. Even if his feathers ruffled under his cloak, feathers on his forearms were puffing.
“Lucerys.” He answers, hiding a laugh by lowering his face. “We must not create opportunities for the nobles to slip through our cracks.”
“If only Daemon had brought Caraxes…”
“Joffrey.”
The pathway opens directly to the least used hall of the castle, next to the old gardens no longer visited except for servants needing a moment of respite. It was grown out, the big tree in the center now almost covering the space like a ceiling. Uncared for, stuck in time.
The only thing that appears similar in the brothers' memories. The rest, well. Statues kept hidden behind pillars, the Targaryen emblem that used to be in every door and corner, now mixed with the Hightower sigil, a way of showing the beauty of The King and Queen´s marriage, Jace supposes, a cheap excuse to claim power they did not have.
Ignoring the snarl threatening to grow in his face, Jace walks forward, ignoring the way his brother´s loudly scoff seeing each change, they make their way towards the center of the castle. Where, if it weren't for the stone walls, it would seem they entered a forest with the amount of green in each wall and ceiling.
“Maybe we should go see our rooms for the time being, check if our stuff got here secure.”
“Our robes won't arrive until late night, Luke. We traveled by Dragon, yeah?”
Lucerys lets out a deep sigh, eyes squinting seeing the Targaryen emblem in green.
“I want to leave.”
Jace lets out a sigh, again. Which seems to happen often when dealing with people around him. His brothers were as stubborn as a mule, even if that wasn't their hybrid, and who could blame them? As far Jace is aware, he's the only one who had a friendship on the other side of their family, and he was sure it hadn't survived the eye incident.
Besides that, he could see it, he wasn't a fool. The way Joffrey stood far too close to him, hand close to the spot where he hid his dagger in his suit, even if he was sure no one had noticed it, or the way Luke jumped and tensed at every shadow, anxious to encounter the Queen, the Hand of the King or… worse.
Through the main stairs and up the floors of the castle, Jace could have spotted five servants, in between maids and knights, gasping at the image of the three grown princess. Maybe the reactions were from their odor of Dragon, they didn't exactly take baths, or perhaps by the sheer size of their presence, straight posture, not even glancing around, like Dragons that know what belongs to them, and this castle fell into that category.
Once reaching the third floor, Joffrey walks off to his old chambers, since he was a small boy when they left, they were the closest to Rhaenyra's, while Jace and Luke keep walking straight, having parallel rooms.
“Do you… think everything will turn out good, brother?” Lucerys voice is soft, almost like he was again that small child who got startled by Syrax roar and cried until a knight picked him up and brought him to Laenor.
Jace glances at his brother, serious and stern. “It doesn't matter if I think about the result, we have no control over what will happen, only Grandfather does.”
His voice is rough, similar to Rhaenyra´s when she scolds a noble, but he isn't cruel, he knows his dear brother will be in the eye of the storm today and the following days. Being stern won't help him.
Taking a small step closer, Jace squeezes his shoulders, eyes connecting. The sight of his big brother's mismatched eyes instantly settles a small feeling of protection over the Beta.
“Whatever happens, we'll face it, as a family.”
Steps down the hall startle the brothers out of their family bubble, not because it was embarrassing that someone saw the brothers being lovely with each other, but because those steps were far too similar to Daemons.
And Daemon couldn't possibly be here.
Aemond walked like a royal wall, unbothered by their presence, cold as the night. Gaze straight ahead, and for a moment, Jace foolishly believed that he would walk by as if they did not exist.
An innocent belief.
“Nephews…” Aemonds voice was raspy, deep like a wolf. It made sense, being it his shift. Jace stands in front of Luke, staring at his Uncle head on. “Welcome back to the Red Keep, truly hope your presence doesn't mean any surprises, yes?” And that was it. With a short glance towards Lucerys, the Alpha keeps walking, wolf ears shifting to face the figures behind him, a way of stating the attention the one eyed man kept on the brown haired Princess until turning the corner down the stairs.
“Why was he here? Is he spying on us?” Luke rambles, wings fluttering under his robes, visibly panicking over the presence of the Uncle that hates them the most. “Did he enter our chambers? By the gods.. he poisoned our beds!”
A loud, mocking laugh comes from one of the rooms in the far end of the hall, doors of a room far down than the brother's chambers opening. A young lady, probably a low noble, sneaking from the room while giggling, dress messed up. Then, as if following, or perhaps wanting a dramatic entrance, Aegon appears through the doors.
“Please, Luke!” The man was shirtless, showing a good psyche, but nothing splendid, white tail sagging side to side, a bright mark of a kiss shining on his neck. “By the High Gods, already making me laugh, and you just arrived.”
The man approaches, and now it is Lucerys who stands in front of Jace, an instinctive reaction over the Alpha approaching. Jacaerys feels his nose wrinkle by the explosion of scents he spread around, perfume, wine and his own Alpha pheromones. He could almost feel his own instincts answering with confusion at the sudden strange but recognizable smell.
Aegon's bright lilac eyes settle on Jace, before shifting to Luke, and his smirk grows. “You see… me and my brothers have been settled into this hall, an order from the My Father, well, you just saw me fully settling into the new chambers, no?” Then, he laughs, as if finding the most hilarious thing. “Wait, your rooms were here too, no? Right! the blocked off doors.” His laugh, once again sounds like a manic cackle, as he walks past the brothers.
He doesn't say more, but his laugh is heard until he disappears through a hall, only the gods know why.
A heavy silence settles over the brothers, as they take short steps towards their rooms, as if their own instincts were preventing them from approaching the, in their minds, Alpha´s territory.
“Have we arrived to hell instead of Kings Landing, Jace?”
“Kings Landing is hell, Luke.”