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Chapter 1 – First Meeting

Jhaeron walks on the streets, his face shadowed by a hooded cloak. His bodyguards were following him at a safe distance wearing their own disguises, alert and ready to defend him from any attackers that might suddenly appear.

An adviser once asked him, "Why do you walk among the commoners? Why do you sully yourself with their presence?"

And he would reply with a tolerating smile, for this is a question that has been repeated often and he had given it the same answer for as long as he could remember. "I do it to get to know my subjects. To know who and what I am protecting and serving for my life. To renew my resolve to do what I can to keep my country safe."

And the adviser would look at him uncomprehendingly and Jhaeron could almost hear him calling his prince a fool but he keeps his silence for the adviser serves him well.

And so, Jhaeron walks on the streets and lets his eyes wander. He suddenly stops short.

For he has seen a truly beautiful lady with hair the colour of ash and gold and striking teal eyes that immediately captures his heart. And she's not just a pretty face, she's charismatic and has an iron will, evidenced by the way she haggles with a jewel merchant, refusing to buy overpriced gems. She negotiates with gentle words and a feminine manner.

She widens her eyes in alarm when the jeweller gets angry and holds her wrist with a painful grip. She cries out for help.

Jhaeron looks around, hoping one of the bystanders would help, but the passerbys kept their head down and leaves the scene quickly. Whispers reach his ears and he realizes that the jewel merchant was Glarox Stone, a rich and powerful man known to make life very difficult for anyone he doesn't like.

Glarox Stone raises his hand, ready to hit the beautiful haggler. She closes her eyes in anticipation of the pain. The grip on her wrist suddenly loosened and a groan is heard. She opens her eyes to see a cloaked man with a tense posture and a jewel merchant with a bruised cheek.

"How dare you meddle in my business," roared Glarox, "who do you think you are?"

Jhaeron shakes with rage. How dare this pig raise his hand to a maiden? And he dared to ask him who he is. Jhaeron pulls his hood down, revealing his silver hair and handsome face for all to see.

"I am Prince Jhaeron the First. I dared meddle in your business because you dared to attempt to harm my subject."

Glarox trembled in fear and shock. He knelt and bowed his head, asking for forgiveness. The subjects around them knelt as well, bowing their head in respect. The beautiful damsel kneels, her face facing him, eyes filled with wonder.

Jhaeron ordered his guards to arrest Glarox and told his subjects to rise. He offers a hand to the teal eyed maiden.

"Rise, and tell me your name."

"My mother gave me the name Zenora, your Grace. And I offer my humble thanks for saving me from Glarox Stone."

She smiles at him and he falls completely in love with her.

This is the start of a beautiful romance.

~

Chapter 2 – Memories and Realization

Zenora looked down at her stomach critically. It seems to have gotten bigger than she remembered. Perhaps she should cut back her consumption of pastries. But they tasted so good.

She dons her usual garb of white flowy silk dress and leaves her room. She greets her guard and cousin, Jaqen, with a cheery "Good morning," and he grins at her in response. She doesn't shy away from his grotesque appearance; she has gotten used to it long ago.

She reminisces as she walks to the marketplace to procure some breakfast, Jaqen following closely behind, ready to defend her at a moment's notice.

She remembers their first meeting.

She first met her cousin Jaqen at her uncle's home, a fine house with a courtyard and garden for men to spar and learn to fight in and children to play in. She calls it her uncle's home, but it was actually her home as well, for her old home had been destroyed down by her father's rivals. All her father's goods were burned into ashes and lumps of metal. Her uncle, her father's brother, had generously offered to let them live with him and his family.

She was but 10 at that time when she lost almost everything. At least she still had her family left.

She remembers her uncle calling for his sons. The elder son, Jon, walked towards them confidently, arrogantly, his hair a dark russet brown and his eyes were bottle green. He looked like his mother, though he had his father's eyes.

"This is Jon, my elder son," said her uncle proudly, "He takes after his old man, don't you, my boy? 16 years old and his wood carvings are already top-grade." Aunt Rita was beaming with pride and adoration.

Her family had always been talented at art.

Her father sold metal crafts: jewelry, ornaments and the like, while her uncle sold wooden crafts like carved animals and furniture. Her aunt Rita's paintings of animals were so lifelike and beautiful that you could almost see them moving. Mother's embroidery was worn by Lords and Ladies.

As for her, she was quickly learning the art of making jewelry from her father.

Jon gave her a short bow and she curtsied back.

Then she spotted a young boy, if he could be called that, skulking behind her uncle. His back was hunched and lumpy and his left lid drooped over his murky green eye. His matted brown hair was thick and stringy and his limbs were unnaturally long. All in all, he looked like a monster.

Her uncle's eyes darkened when he spotted the young boy. Jon sneered at him with disgust while her aunt stiffened.

"This is Jaqen." Her uncle's voice was cold, and he didn't say anything else. Jaqen tried to smile at her warmly but she jumped in fright. When he saw her fear, he looked down and the corner his thin purplish lips turned drooped. Zenora calmed down and realized that he was just a harmless sad boy.

"Hello, my name's Zenora. Let's be good friends."

He smilled at her, his face twisting to become even more grotesque. She winces at this but smiles at him anyway.

Zenora had become his closest friend and he hers. She found out that he was two years her elder and his family disliked him because of his appearance and apparent lack of talent in art. He was more interested in fighting anyway. She tells him that his form when training and fighting was an art in itself, like a beautiful yet deadly dance. She still feels ashamed that she judged him by his appearance at first.

When Zenora was 14, her whole family was killed except for Jaqen and her because they were running errands for their parents. The murderers were the rivals that burned down her father's merchandise. They were caught and sentenced to be beheaded, their assets given to their victims.

From then on, Jaqen vowed to protect her. He trained harder than ever at his sword fighting and hand to hand combat. Zenora started travelling to sell her jewellery, starting with her father's old customers and slowly gaining courage to sell and buy from total stranger.

When Jaqen heard of how the crown prince had to save her from Glarox Stone, he frowned in dismay. If only he hadn't leave her to do his 'business'. She assured him that she was fine and it must be destiny for her to meet with the prince.

Speaking of the prince, she couldn't meet with him today as he had a hunting party with his father, the king.

In her reverie, she didn't notice that she reached the market until the smell of food reaches her nose. She starts buying food for her and Jaqen.

"Aren't you going to eat any meat?" Jaqen frowned as he stared at her eating her bread and fruits.

"No, the thought of meat makes me sick."

It's strange as she had always loved a good chicken leg but now, she feels the urge to vomit whenever the thought of it comes up. She had been craving for sour foods recently as well, and her lower back ached. She also gets tired easily.

Perhaps she's becoming ill. A thought starts niggling at the back of her mind but she doesn't notice.

She sets up a stall displaying her intricate jewelry and rolls of fine cloth, Jaqen standing guard a distance away.

She sees a young girl holding her parents' hands and feels envy. She could never do that with Jhaeron. They may be taking walks and strolls together and act close and cosy but they could never get married. She was just a merchant and he was a prince. There was always a certain distance held between them. He may have told her to call him Jhaeron instead of 'Your Grace' but there is always a certain invisible voice telling and reminding her of their different stations.

The only times the voice and distance disappears is when they get intimate. The first time it happened, they were both nervous and fumbling for it was their first time. But they had gotten so intense and it was only when they were performing the act that they could shed the faces and boundaries of their stations, to be a man and a woman and not a prince and his subject.

It has been two months since they first started doing it and - NO.

Her eyes widened in horror. She hasn't been bleeding for two months.

~

Chapter 3 – Separation

Zenora does the finishing touches on the gift she will give Jhaeron. Today will be the day. She had started making the gift for him when she was first saved by him. She sped up her work, working harder and longer when she found out about her pregnancy. It was a thank you gift but now it's so much more.

She looks out the window at the sun and packs up her things hurriedly, slipping the gift into the hidden pocket in her dress, a long pale pink silk garment with white sleeves made of light material. She is glad that it hides the baby bump that's about to become prominent. Jhaeron must not find out about it. She must not let anyone find out that Jhaeron is the father of her child, it will bring shame upon him.

Her fingers brush against the necklace on her throat, a gift from Jhaeron. He had given it to her, saying it had reminded him of her and them. It's teal stones - opal, her discerning eyes told, the stone of faith and loyalty- of her eyes and the wings of their desire for the freedom to love without the boundaries set by their statuses. She feels the silver chain warmed by her skin and takes comfort.

Zenora travels to the secret garden of the castle, though it is more of a forest, where they promised to meet today, Jaqen following closely behind her. Jaqen looked at her with a sad, pitying gaze knowing what she had to do. She reaches their secret place known only to them and their close friends, him his friends and guards and her Jaqen.

It is beautiful in the clearing, with evergreen trees and blooming flowers of spring surrounding them, sunlight filtering through the leaves forming patches of light on the grassy forest floor. Jhaeron was already waiting there, looking as handsome as ever with his silver hair and lavender eyes. He wore a green tunic and soft leather shoes, perfect for blending in the forest. She knew that his friends and guards, Kevan Arryn and Edryn Tully, were somewhere around the clearing, watching for intruders and eavesdroppers, near enough to help should there be an attacker but far away enough that they couldn't hear or see them. Jaqen joins them in their duties, though they are not friendly with each other.

Jhaeron holds his lover in his arms and gives her a passionate kiss. He looks at her with concern, "What's wrong? You don't look very happy."

Zenora gives him a weak smile and takes a deep breath.

"I can't do this anymore, Jhaeron. No, we can't do this anymore."

Jhaeron freezes.

"What do you mean?"

"You're a prince. You will be a king soon and I am not benefiting you in anyway. I can't help you become a good king. I can't offer you riches or status or honour. And  you will marry a woman who can offer you those things."

Jhaeron tries to deny her words.

"You don't need to. I can be a good king without these things. I can love you even if I have to marry another woman. I don't have to marry another woman, I can marry you."

"You will have to find a wife who the your father and subjects will approve of, and that person won't be me. You can't not find a wife either, you will need an heir, a royal heir. And your wife won't be happy to find out that you're having an affair, Jhaeron. And we can't keep it a secret forever," she says as he was about to protest, "sooner or later, someone would slip up and where would we be? The future queen would try to kill me or somehow scheme to overthrow you by stirring discontent in your subjects' heart."

Jhaeron shakes his head in denial.

"No, I won't let you go. I love you," he says desperately, "and you love me, don't you?"

"I do, I really do, that's why we can't do this. I love you and I want you to achieve your dream of becoming a good king. Please," she begs, "please let me go. It will break my heart if you don't for I know you won't be happy unless you have achieved your dream."

Jhaeron hangs his head in defeat, for how could he bear to break his love's heart? He gives her a kiss and another and another, his tears overflowing from his eyes, mingling with hers, their salty kisses conveying how much they love each other, how much they want to be each other, how much they don't want to part.

"Let's spend this last day together at least, happily, like we'll love forever." Jhaeron holds her close.

"Yes, but before that I have a gift for you."

She brings out the gift she spent months creating.

Jhaeron holds the gift reverently. The gift is a pendant hanging on a chain. The pendant is round, about two or three finger's width across, made of gold with the Targaryen's crest carved on it. The scales of the three-headed-dragon were painstakingly carved, making it look alive, and the ruby chips in the eyes sparkled. The dragon seems to be roar and writhe on the pendant, breathing flames hotter than the sun.

Jhaeron turns the pendant around when he feels indents on the back. He finds the words of his house carefully engraved on the back of the pendant. Fire and Blood indeed.

Unbeknownst to Jhaeron, Zenora had placed a diamond in the heart of the pendant, to be found only if the pendant was melted down. Diamond was the stone that represented faithfulness and love. Her way of saying that deep in her heart, she will love and be faithful only to him.

Jhaeron puts it on and gives her a kiss.

She made to take off her necklace.

"I should return this necklace to you."

"No, let it be a reminder to you of the love we shared."

Zenora let her hands fall back to her side.

And so they spend the day lying on the grassy forest floor, talking about anything and everything. They kiss and they laugh. They speak of their dreams and hopes and wishes and fears. They love like they will never love again, with passion and fire and desperation tinting their words and actions.

And when they part as the sun is setting, he tells her that he will always love her. And she tells him that she will never love another.

And so they part with heavy hearts, knowing they will never meet as lovers again.
Yeah, so I basically forced Quinn into writing a romantic short story for my Game of Thrones role play character, Jhenevah's parents.

But that's what friends are for, right? :iconllamajumpplz: ...right?

~Sunny

So... This is a fanfiction based on a fan character made for a role play based on A Song of Ice and Fire. But you can probably read it without watching or reading the series. I wrote it without doing it.

Also, suggestions for other titles are welcome.

~Quintessa
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