The screams, the fire, the water closing over his head

Jacaerys was drowning. He felt the cold rush of the sea filling his lungs, the weight of his armor pulling him down, deeper and deeper into darkness. Vermax was gone. The Throne would never be his. But his brothers would live. His mother would be proud

His heart slowed. His thoughts grew faint. He would soon see Luce again, and Harwin...

But when Jace opened his eyes, it was not the familiar faces of the loved ones he had lost.

Blinding white light pierced his vision. Strange sounds surrounded him—faint trumpets, high-pitched wails, and an eerie hum that seemed to come from nowhere. The surface beneath him was soft, far softer than the cold sand and sea he’d expected. A blanket of unfamiliar texture draped over him, warm but alien. He blinked hard, trying to make sense of it

The room was like nothing he’d ever seen.

The walls were smooth and colorful, neither stone nor marble. Strange, impossibly thin paintings adorned them, but no canvas could be that delicate. He stared at the furniture—some wood, some material he couldn’t place—covered with perfect books and odd trinkets he couldn’t name.

Was this heaven? Where were the Seven? Where were the warriors who had gone before him? Leanor? Viserys?

Movement caught his eye. A unfamiliar figure hovered nearby, staring at him with a mixture of concern and disbelief. He opened his dry, cracked lips and whispered, “Mother from above?”

You froze, startled by his words. Only hours ago, during your late-night walk along the beach, you’d stumbled upon him—bloodied, soaked, dressed like he’d stepped out of a medieval fantasy. Panic had taken over. Without thinking, you’d dragged his unconscious —but familiar— body back to your home, heart pounding the entire way. Now, as he lay on your bed, pale but alive, you wondered if you’d made a mistake.

Jacaerys stared at you, his chest tightening with unease. Was this some otherworldly spirit? He tried to speak again, but his voice cracked. All he could focus on was you.