- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ CHAPTER FIFTY ONE ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
KING FOR A DAY
❛ imagine loving like a king someday
a single night without a ghost in the walls
we are the shadows screaming,
take us now
we'd rather die than live to rust on the ground❜

౨ৎ disclaimer
unedited! and implied smut

pspspspsss, follow my tiktok @carollingdxnvers.wp

JACAERYS AND EUDORA.

The Riverlands were dreary this time of year, the sky heavy with hues of gray and the roads turning into mud beneath the heavy rain. Jace moved like a shadow through the quiet villages, a hood pulled low over his face, his cloak weighed down by the damp air.

For weeks, he had scoured every whispered rumor, every muttered story of a one eyed woman the land– scarred, who has claimed the name Enith Karstark as she moved place to place. Each whisper left a flicker of something sharp through his chest, something dangerously close to hope, only to be extinguished by dead ends and false rails.

Everyday, he hoped his result wouldn't be the same.

Because if she is dead, if all of this was for nothing, then Jace has lost the one thing he valued so much in his life.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The small town was nestled between two hills, the kind of place that had remained untouched by war. Simple folk bustled through the streets, their gazes cautious but uninterested in strangers. Jace kept his eyes glued to the ground, not when people bargained for their food, called for eggs to be sold.

But he slowed when he watched a young boy and girl run the opposite direction, laughing as they chased each other for whatever reason. It hit him too hard, not just because the pair reminded him of her, but it also reminded him of the fact that he never actually got to grow up with her that way.

That their earlier days were just moments of hope that they'd reunite, letters of innocent words and empty promises. And when he finally got her? When he finally thought he would get to do everything he wished to do with her? He slipped right out of his grasp once more.

Jace just got her back, and now he lost her all over again.

His pace caught the attention of someone. A weary old man sat outside a cobbler's shop, pipe smoke curling around his face as he watched the Velaryon pass.

"She's in the inn," the man muttered.

Jace stopped mid-step. "What?"

"That woman," the man said, tapping the ash from his pipe. "Works in the inn. Keeps her head down, but we all see her. Used to talk like a nut-case but now? It's like someone's cut her tongue off," he scoffed.

Jace barely muttered a word before striding in the direction the man nudged his head towards.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

"Well, don't just stand there! We're all waiting on ya!"

The wooden door creaked as Jace stepped inside. The inn was dimly lit, the warm scent of stew and firewood filled the air. A few men sat hunched over their drinks, lost in laughs and conversation. A barmaid bustled between tables, refilling cups and clearing plates.

And then Jace saw her.

His breath caught in his throat.

She moved through the room with quiet efficiency, her sleeves rolled up past her elbows, her red hair falling loosely over her shoulders. A long jagged scar traced from her forehead down to her cheek, across the makeshift eyepatch that sat on the socket where her left eye had once been.

Eudora.

His Eudora.

She didn't see him at first, too focused on balancing a tray of drinks as she made her way to the bar. He took a step closer towards her, his heartbeat hammering in his chest.

"Eudora."

The tray slipped from her hands, cups crashing against the wooden floor, ale spilling across her boots. "For fuck's sake, Enith, clean that up," one of the bartenders sighed but she stayed frozen.

Slowly, hesitantly, she turned her head.

Then their eyes met.

For a long, breathless moment, neither of them spoke. Her eyes widened in disbelief, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. The color drained from her face, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

It– It couldn't be him.

Jace stepped forward, his voice softer this time. "Eudora."

She stumbled back. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "You must've been mistaken, that's not my name."

"But–"

"No," she hastily began to pick up the cups from the floor. "Whoever you're trying to find, sir, she's not here."

The prince's stomach twisted in so many ways. He listened as a group called for her once more to gather their cups and refill their drinks, causing her to walk away from him. But Jace just followed her. "You can't just go months without thinking if I'd try to come find you."

"You're supposed to be dead–"

"I'm not," he said firmly, taking another step as she poured some wine. Jace watched her flinch, as if expecting him to vanish, as if this was some cruel trick of her mind.

"You died," she repeated, her voice hushed, covered by the conversations circling around them. "I grieved you."

"I know," he said, his throat tightening. "But you're acting as if you haven't vanished for the past six months. I've been trying to search for you for over two months now, I–"

Their conversation was cut short as one of the men sitting near them put a daring hand on the girl's waist. Jace's eyes immediately narrowed. The man, a lanky figure with a greasy beard, smirked as he leaned closer towards her. His words were slurred, the unmistakable stench of too much wine on his breath. "Now, that's a shame," he said with a grin. "A beautiful thing like you wasting your time serving drinks. I've got a bit of coin to spare. What do you say, love? I'll treat you better than any man ever could."

She flinched visibly, her shoulders tense under the unwelcome touch. Her head lowered slightly as she focused on the task at hand, shoving his arm off her waist without any verbal confrontation, but he only chuckled, emboldened by the lack of resistance.

"Don't be shy now," he continued, leaning even closer. "I'm sure a fine woman like yourself deserves more than–"

Jace moved before he could finish the sentence. The moment the man's hand moved to touch her again, Jace was there, grabbing his wrist with a grip that could've snapped a bone. "Get your hands off her," Jace said sharply, causing the man to blink.

The older man's eyes flicked to him before rolling them. "What's your problem, eh? Plenty of flesh around these lands for a man like you–"

"How dare you–"

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" the man asked. "Some knight in shining armor? You'll have to wait your turn, friend–"

"I'm her–"

He paused, catching himself mid-sentence.

I'm her husband.

I'm her husband, he almost said, but he couldn't. Not here, not now. The world thought him dead, and revealing that would only make matters worse. The lie would be shattered, and with it, any hope of getting her back. His grip tightened, pulling the man closer. "I don't care what you think you're entitled to– if you ever touch her again, I'll make sure you won't be able to use that hand for anything ever–"

"That's enough," Eudora– Enith, as she called herself now, spoke. Her tone forced both men to look at her, pushing Jace by the shoulder which caused him to face her even more. "Let him go."

Jace turned to her, eyes wide in disbelief. "Eud–"

"No," she snapped, her gaze hardening. "Let him go."

He hesitated, the adrenaline rising in his veins, but he slowly released the man's wrist, who scrambled away– not before muttering some 'ass face' under his breath. Jace didn't care, because is gaze never left Eudora.

One look from her told him that he had to follow her, and follow he did. Up the narrow staircase, towards a small room in the inn, away from prying eyes. She stood at the far corner of the room, her back facing towards Jace as he watched her shake her head. "Eudora," he began, but she only sighed– her shoulders shaking as she began to bit down on her inner cheek.

"Don't," she said. "You died, you're suppose to be dead. My husband is gone– he's been slain by Aemond Targayen, his body rests at the bottom of the–"

"Eudora, please."

"You aren't real— you can't, you—"

He watched as she slowly came to her knees, her hands clutching at her head, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Without even thinking, Jace moved, crossing the space between them in a single stride and dropped to his knees beside her.

"I'm real," he whispered, his hands hovering near her shoulders, afraid to touch, afraid she might just pull away again.

Eudora squeezed her eyes shut, her breath coming in short as her grip on her hair tightened. "They said you were dead," she murmured. "I mourned you– I had to let you go."

The Velaryon swallowed hard, and finally his fingers brushed against her arms. "Eudora, you know me."

He listens as she lets out a small laugh. "Do I?"

"I would never leave you," he said softly. "I've been looking for you every single day."

The Stark's chest rose and fell rapidly, finally she took in another breath before finally looking at him– her hands shaking as they slowly reached out. She pressed her fingers against his cheek, slow, testing, as if she expected him to fade beneath her touch. But as soon as her palm met his warmth, when she felt the heat of his skin and the dampness of the rain clinging to him, her breath caught.

He felt her thumb trace the line of his jaw, then the edge of his lips, and then she lets out a soft, strangled sound before collapsing into his arms. Jace held her tightly as he could without hurting her, his hand cradling the back of her head, his other arm wrapped firmly around her waist. "You're here," he whispered into her hair. "You're here."

The prince was never the one to cry– let alone sob in front of so many people. But in the comfort of some old inn's walls, in the presence of the woman he once thought he lost? Jace finally lets it all out– because the only person who he's allowed himself to break and fall apart in front of was in his arms once more.

Eudora clung to him, fingers twisting in the fabric of his tunic, her body shaking with quiet sobs. "I thought," she began, her voice muffled against his chest. "I thought I'd never see you again."

He closed his eyes, though his own sobs escaped him he managed to let out a breathless laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Neither did I."

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It was an hour or so later when they found themselves sitting on the floor against the bed, Jace's arms still lingered around her as he absentmindedly played with her hair, Eudora's sobs quieted down to nothing more than uneven breaths. "When I fell," Eudora finally said, her voice hoarse, "I thought I was going to die."

Jace stopped.

"Aemond's knife was lodged so deep into my shoulder," she continued shakily. "And the thorns– they slowed my fall, but they tore right through me. I just– I remember thinking I'd bleed out before they'd reach me. I don't remember how long I laid there before someone found me."

He noticed the distant look on her face, he's memorized it. But before he could say anything else, Eudora pressed on. "A woman took me in," she told him. "She was... she was a healer, I think– an old widow. She kept me alive when I should've been dead, stitched my eye shut when she realized there was no more fixing. But when she realized who I was she told me I had to go– afraid the Greens were still looking for me. That Aemond would–" her breath hitched.

"And they didn't?" Jace asked.

"They assumed I was dead," she replied. "Just like everyone else." Her hand instinctively brushed the scar on her face, beginning to bite on her inner cheek. "I've been wandering ever since, hiding, trying to stay alive."

"You could've came to me," he whispered under his breath. "You could've returned to me."

"I had to stay hidden, Jace," she turned to him. "It wasn't– It wasn't like I wanted to leave you, like I wanted you to believe me dead too. But I needed to do this, otherwise Aemond wouldn't stop."

"Come back with me," Jace said almost immediately, reaching for her hands now. "Eudora, you don't have to hide anymore–"

"No." Eudora rose to her feet as fast as she could, pulling away from him as she shook her head.

"No?"

"Jace, I can't," she whispered, watching as he stood up. "He's still out there. He's alive– if he knows that I survived–"

"Then let him find out," he told her as if it was a solution to all their problems. "I'll– I'll kill him myself, I'll protect you–"

Eudora only let out a bitter laugh. "It's not that simple."

"It is–"

"You don't understand," Eudora snapped, beginning to pace the room. "Do you understand what he could do, Jace? Your mother may be Queen but Aemond's still a threat, if I ever show my face again it could break whatever fragile peace there is. He will never stop hunting me–"

Quickly, she felt his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look up at him. "I won't let him take you away from me again, I'm not allowing it."

"And what if he does? Are you burning an entire town to the ground just as he did?" Eudora jested, but it made the Velaryon freeze. Her face only softened, her hand caressing his face. "You have a duty, Jace."

"Don't do this to me–"

"You are Rhaenyra's heir. You have a kingdom to inherit, a peace to keep."

His eyes searched her remaining one, as if he could search her mind for any hidden meaning behind her words. "Eudora, what are you–"

"Go home, Jace," she finally told him, taking in a slow, shaky breath. "You should go, and I'll stay. You've fought too hard to throw it all away for me."

"Eudora, please–"

"Forget about me– Jace, there's so much that's at cost–"

"I'm doing no such thing."

"You have to–"

"I just got you back," he pleaded, now cupping her face with both his hands. "Eudora I can't– it was all for you. I did that all for– what's the point of any of it if I don't have you?"

"Jace–"

He shook his head, ignoring anything she wanted to say. "I'll go with you," he said, determined. "Whever you go, I'll go."

The girl was taken by surprise, her eyebrows beginning to furrow together as her lips parted in shock. "You can't."

"I can, and I will."

She scoffed at his words. "You're a prince, Jace. You can't just disappear."

"I can if I want to."

"Listen to yourself right now–"

"I am listening," he insisted. "I am listening to the fact that I refuse to live another fucking day without you. And if that means leaving everything behind, so be it."

Eudora shook her head yet again, tears brimming her eye. "You don't mean that."

"I do," he said, and gods, he had never been more certain of anything in his life. "I've already faked my death, might as well let the word live on."

"And your mother? Your family?"

He thought for merely a second, only shrugging the thought off. "They'll be safer without me."

"Jace..."

The Velaryon cut her off. "Please," he whispered. "Don't ask me to let you go again."

Eudora closed her eye, finally leaning into his touch. "We won't be able to go back."

"We'll find another way," he murmured. "We always do."

Silence stretched between them, thick and fragile. Like you could cut the air in half, and for a moment Jace held his breath. Then finally, Eudora nodded.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Weeks later...

The cottage was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the wind outside. The world had not ceased its chaos, its insanity, but for now, in this place, Jace and Eudora had carved out a moment untouched by war and fragile peace.

For weeks, they had lived like ghosts, tucked away in their small refuge– hidden from the eyes of those who would drag them back to the life they had abandoned. The life Jace abandoned for her.

A prince turned fugitive, A Stark who should have been long dead.

Eudora sat by the window, watching the distant hills fade into the darkness, her hands folded on her lap as she played with the ring that still sat on her finger. Even now, after all these days, she still sometimes woke up expecting this to have been a fever dream– that she would wake in some cold chamber in the Red Keep, or back in the thorns where she had falled.

But then she'd turn, and Jace would be there.

Solid.

Real.

And then somehow everything felt normal.

He stood across the room, watching her in the dim light. "You're thinking again," he murmured.

Eudora lets out a breath. "Would you rather I stop?"

Jace felt his lips twitch, but there was something serious in his gaze, something searching. He began to step closer, the old wooden floor creaking under his weight. "I'd rather you tell me what's on your mind."

She could only look down at her hands, fingers twisting together. She had always been sharp-tounged, always quick-witted, always the one to bite back with something bitter– unafraid. But here, like this, she felt as if she were stripped bare. "I just," she exhaled. "I still don't understand how you can look at me like that."

Jace furrowed his eyebrows. "Like what?"

"Like I'm still the same."

Then he knelt beside her, his hands reaching for hers. "Eudora," he said softly, his voice low and sure. "You're still you."

She could only shake her head. "I'm not–"

"You are alive," he interrupted almost immediately. "You are breathing, and you are here and I–" Jace took a deep breath, his grip on her hands tightening. "And I don't care what's changed. I love you, I'll never stop– one eyed and all."

Eudora finally laughs, shaking her head. "When did you learn to have some sense of humor?"

"Oh, come on now, I've always been like this. I've just decided to let you jest louder instead." Now they both were laughing, Jace slowly reaching up, his fingers grazing the edge of her scarred cheek, his thumb ghost over the ridges of the wound she had tried so hard to ignore. "This doesn't make you any less to me," he told her under his breath. "Nothing could."

"You really mean it?" she asked him. Her laughter faded into something quieter, something more fragile. Eudora had spent months fearing this moment– the moment where she would have to stand in front of him once more, bare in more ways than one, with all the ugliness of the past carved into her skin. But Jace was kneeling before her now, looking at her the way he always had.

With such warmth, such devotion.

With something that almost hurt to witness.

Jace could only huff out a breath, tilting his head as if the question itself was ridiculous. "Eudora, have I ever lied to you."

Eudora smirked, arching an eyebrow. "Once, you told me you'd write to me everyday."

The Velaryon groaned, his forehead dropping against her knee as she laughed. "I've already old you, I–"

"It wasn't your fault, I know that now," she grinned, running her fingers through the mess of his curls. "But for a time, it really hurt me."

"At least now we know it was neither of our doing." Jace lifted his head again, his hands still holding hers. His smile lingered, but his eyes softened, turning into an expression she couldn't quite read as he watched her. "I have never lied about how I feel about you," he said, his thumb brushing against her knuckles. "And I never will."

Something shiften then, the air between them growing heavier, slower.

Jace didn't move right away, he simply watched her, his hands warm and steady in her own. And then, ever so cautiously he leaned in.

Eudora felt it– a soft press of his lips, barely there a question in itself. She let her hands tighten around his. Jace's nose brushed against hers, his breath warm against her lips, but he didn't push. He didn't demand. Instead, he was waiting.

So when he pulled away slightly, she didn't wait another moment to lean in again, kissing him properly, that was all the answer he needed.

It started slow, hesitant even– like neither of them quite knew how to relearn each other. Jace moved his lips against hers with an aching patience, his hands moving up to cradle her face, holding her with such tender touch.

She melted into him, her fingers moving to grip the fabric of his tunic, clutching onto him as if afraid he might disappear all over again.

It was careful, they were always careful.

It was as if they were both scared that one wrong move would be the end of it all.

Jace sighed into the kiss, his fingers brushing over the edges of her scar, the side of her throat. When they parted once more, he rested his forehead against hers.

"That was–"

"Innocent," Jace finished for her, his voice slightly hoarse as he caressed her neck.

Eudora let out another small laugh, pressing her fingers to her lips as if trying to process her feelings. "I thought you were trying to seduce me, Prince Jacaerys."

Jace's lips twitched into a smirk, but there was something darker in his gaze now, something unmistakable. "You'd know if I was."

"Oh?"

He kissed her again, but this time, there was no caution, no gentleness. His hands tangled into her hair, pulling her forward as his lips pressed against hers with something raw, something desperate. He kissed her like he's starved, like he had spent one too many nights dreaming of this moment only to wake up reaching for someone who wasn't there.

Eudora gasped, and Jace took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping against hers in a slow, maddening way that made her knees weak. Her hands curled on the fabric at his chest, twisting it in her fingers. "Jace–"

She felt breathless, like her body had just remembered something she had long forgotten– what it was like to be touched like this. What it was like to be wanted.

The Velaryon pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, his breath unstrady. "Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his hands flexing against her hips, fighting every urge to pull her closer.

But Eudora only shook her head, already leaning back in. "No," she whispered. "Jace, please."

"Gods," he muttered under his breath before kissing her again, desperate, fiercer this time, his hands sliding up her back. Eudora let herself be lost in him, in the way his lips claimed hers like he needed it, in the way his hands moved against hers as if comitting her to memory.

Jace lifted her effortlessly, his grip firm yet careful as he carried her to the bed. She clung to him, letting out a breathless laugh as he settled her down. "You're stronger than you look," she teased.

He could only huff out a laugh, bracing himself above her. "Might I remind you that as a prince, I've been training for battle while you were off in King's Landing doing who knows what."

Eudora smirked, running her hands down his chest. "I was also learning how to fight men twice my size, maybe I should be carrying you."

The prince grinned, ducking his head to kiss along her jaw. "Maybe another time."

Her laughter turned into a soft sigh as his lips moved lower, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her throat. His hands moved to the ties of her dress, his fingers brushing against her skin as he worked them loose. There was no urgency, no haste. He took his time, allowing the fabric to slip from her shoulders, his gaze never leaving hers.

Eudora shivered under his touch, not from the cold but from the sheer look in his eyes. "I must look like a mess," she jested, trying to make light of the moment, to ease the knot of nerves in her stomach.

"You're beautiful."

She scoffed. "You're biased."

"I'm your husband," he reminded her, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. "That means I'm always right."

The Stark could only let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "That's not how it works."

Jace hummed in amusement, but he didn't argue. Instead, he let his hands wander, tracing the curve of her waist, the dip of her spin. As if his touch was like he was trying to memorize her all over again. Her hands trembled as she reached for his tunic, pushing it over his head. He helped her, tossing it aside before returning his hands to her hips, pulling her closer.

"Tell me to stop," he said again, his voice thick with restraint.

She swallowed hard. "I don't want you to."

He exhaled, a sound of relief and something deeper, something heavier.

Suddenly, there was no more hesitation.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The fire had burned low by the time their bodies stilled.

Jace lay beside her his fingers lazily tracing patterns along her bare shoulder, the other tangled in her hair. She lay against his chest, her breathing now even, her fingers ghosting over the steady beat of his heart.

She felt safe.

"I think I just proved that I'm stronger than I look," Jace murmured, his lips quirking in amusement.

Eudora snorted, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "Humble as ever, I see."

Jace smirked, brushing his lips against her forehead. "Just saying. I'd make a fine husband."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "You already are my husband."

His grin softened, his hand coming to rest over hers, where the ring still sat on her finger. He turned it slowly, watching the firelight catch on the metal. "And I always will be," he said.

The Stark hummed in response, closing her eyes. "Do you think they'll find us."

"Not if we don't want them to."

She huffed with a small laugh. "A prince hiding in the woods with his exiled wife. It sounds like something out of a bard's tale."

"Then let them tell our story."

"And if they come?"

Jace's fingers made their way to her waist, his touch gentle. "Then let them." He allowed her to trace the edge of his jaw, trying to read the expression on her face. "Eudora, you do know I love you, right?"

He watched as a soft smile played on her face. "I know," she told him, allowing him to kiss her again, slow and lingering, as if to make sure she never forgot.

Because outside the wind howled against the walls of their home. But inside?

Inside they were wrapped in each other's arms, they were untouchable.

Inside, at least for now, they had won. And gods, for once, that was enough.

🫗