Chapter Text
A masterpiece of redwood and ebony, decorated on one side by an ornately carved Targaryen three headed dragon mirroring a Baratheon crowned stag on the other, Jocelyn’s great wheelhouse, gifted by her brother Lord Boremund upon her marriage to Prince Aemon nine years prior, was still as splendid as the first day of its inaugural journey when they’d embarked upon the Gold Road for their progress of the westerlands and riverlands. Countering the direction of that original path, the wheelhouse crawling up the ever-expanding King’s road was now well into the riverlands.
Jocelyn drew open a window to let in some fresh air after the short spat of rain had ceased then glanced over at her sister the queen who was speaking in a low voice to her daughter Daella.
Jocelyn's heart clenched for want of her own child, but she and Aemon had agreed that Rhaenys should remain at Dragonstone under the care and tutelage of Septa Rhaella, for they did not yet know how long she might be away in the company of Queen Alysanne. When her royal sister had requested the use of Jocelyn's wheelhouse, she'd also extended an invitation to join her as she brought poor Daella (who was spooked by dragons and frightened of horses besides so did not wish to travel by either means) up to the Riverlands to meet with her latest prospective spouse.
The rains had started up again when their party arrived at Raventree Hall late that afternoon. Luckily, young Royce Blackwood was there to sweetly hand down the wide-eyed princess from the carriage steps and guide her smoothly indoors. As Queen Alysanne was being similarly towed by Lord Harwin Blackwood, she managed to subtly raise her brows and give Jocelyn a significant glance.
Timid and delicate as she was, it would be very good indeed for the princess Daella to be wed to a gentle man. One who could care for the princess, cherish her as she was. And Lord Blackwood’s heir was proving himself rather gallant on first impression.
Jocelyn linked arms with her lady, Alys Mullendore and her cousin, the Lady Caselyn Baratheon; the only companions to have joined her from Dragonstone on this venture (along with her sworn shield Ser Arthur Bar Emmon), and they three followed the assortment of queen’s ladies-in-waiting piling into Raventree.
Their first evening was rather quiet in deference to their travels. The party from King’s Landing supped well and slept early, but not before the royal ladies had gathered together in conference.
Neither Jocelyn nor indeed Alysanne wished to overly influence Daella, but when pressed by her mother and aunt for her opinion of Royce Blackwood, the princess could only bashfully exclaim, “I don’t know! I don’t know!”
She was, however, more forthcoming with her appreciation of Raventree Hall itself, finding the adorning latticework quite pretty.
“If it does not rain on the morrow we shall walk the grounds and perhaps see the weirdwood which gives Raventree its name,” said Jocelyn to her sister. “Royce Blackwood graciously offered us a tour.”
Seated purposefully to the young man’s left while Daella was on his right, Jocelyn had strived to keep the courting couple in conversation with each other throughout supper. When Cassie – on Jocelyn’s own left – had asked about the raven tree, she’d leaped at the opportunity to put forth the idea of a walk through the godswood.
It unfortunately did rain the next day and the day after that, but the overarching mission was no less accomplished. Lord Blackwood, it seemed, was eager to see his son wed well and had spared no expense in providing his guests with lavish entertainment. This might have been counterproductive, for Princess Daella was not overly fond of the loud theatrics Lord Blackwood’s mummers and jesters were wont to provide; but sensing her mounting distress, Royce Blackwood wisely offered his arm to the princess and took her on strolls to quieter confines. Always chaperoned by her septa, of course.
They made a striking pair. Him gracefully tall with handsome dark features and the princess with her diminutive stature and Targaryen beauty.
On their ninth day at Raventree Hall, Jocelyn had escaped the noise herself to read a letter from Florys and was just showing Cassie the page where Rhaenys had (somewhat crookedly) written her own name to show off her studious progress when the two Baratheons overheard Royce and Daella who must have just entered the hall beyond.
“Oh,” breathed Cassie when the young man began to sing a soft ballad seemingly of his own composition. A youth of eighteen, it would appear that Royce Blackwood was not only a gifted bowman and fine swordsman – talents which he had earlier demonstrated – but an accomplished musician as well. His voice was like honey, and Jocelyn knew well that it was not Daella playing the harp which accompanied his singing.
In all the fifteen years that Jocelyn knew Daella, she’d never before heard her usually shy niece sound quite so confident than when she effusively praised her young man at the end of his song.
After sharing her observation with the queen, Alysanne beamed brightly and in turn shared that Lord Blackwood and herself had already gone so far as to begin tentatively talking of wedding plans. Aysanne only needed to speak with the king, and an official betrothal could be arranged.
Alas, it was not to be.
Lord Blackwood and his son having ridden out on business to Blackwood Vale, and with her mother out hawking, Princess Daella found herself idle. It was one of the Blackwood cousins who invited the princess to accompany her to the godswood where the girl and her companions would gather to pray before the dead weirwood tree of a morning.
By the time Jocelyn came upon her niece, she was in hysterics, screeching confusedly and calling for her mother who then sequestered Daella in their borrowed chambers to avoid prying eyes.
“I will not marry him!” she said to her mother, somewhat calmed after drinking the tea Jocelyn brought them. “I will not. I refuse!”
“Oh, my darling, did he do something untoward? You were so fond of him just this morning,” sighed the queen, frowning deeply. “Have you been harmed my little flower? Tell me true.”
“They don’t believe in the gods,” said Daella, horrified. “I’d go to hell.”
“House Blackwood follow the old gods my pet. Like my lady Alarra Stark, do you remember her?”
“I do not want to go to hell mother and surely the seven would abandon me if I come to live here amongst these people.”
The queen could only sigh.
Daella’s outburst could not be hidden from Lord Blackwood. Though the lord of Raventree and his son both were as kind as ever, Jocelyn sensed a distinct coldness from several of the other Blackwoods that had not been there before.
While there would not be a wedding, Jocelyn knew that her royal sister despaired of causing any further offense to House Blackwood. Should they leave now and risk causing talk amongst the other riverlords who might wrongly believe the Blackwoods at fault? Or perhaps remain until the autumn rains eased? And yet, Daella could not hide her discomfort.
In the end, the queen took her daughter and a few of her ladies down to Riverrun for some days when the opportune news came that Lady Tully had birthed a new babe, leaving Jocelyn to make preparations for their final departure from the riverlands.
“Must we go already?” whispered Cassie late one night. “It is only...”
When she did not continue, Jocelyn touched her younger cousin’s arm and dismissed the maidservants who had been combing out her hair and stoking her fire.
“What is it, Cassie?”
“I-”
“Cassie?”
“I have fallen in love with Royce Blackwood, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Oh?”
“It is only that he is so kind, Jocey. And gallant. Did you see how he indulged his little sisters that day we all visited Fairmarket? And he plays the harp so sweetly; he almost reminds me of our Ramona when he plays. And when he sings... when he sings, I always fear I might weep for I want to hear him always Jocey. I want to know what it is to dance with him. I- I think I love him, but he does not see me at all.”
Hugging her cousin tightly while she softly cried, Jocelyn said, “Leave it to me Cassie sweetling. Leave everything to me.”
Lady Ramona Baratheon was already awaiting Jocelyn in her apartments within the Stone Drum when she returned to Dragonstone after more than three moons away.
The Lady of Sharp Point knew that her cousin would first go to find her daughter and strategically placed herself there. Jocelyn smiled knowingly before spying Princess Rhaenys playing with her younger cousin Ester Bar Emmon under the supervision of Ramona.
There were some tears, many hugs and more kisses before the princess returned to her play and the elder cousins could talk.
“Will he be good to her?” asked Ramona, all anxiety.
In the absence of the queen, Jocelyn had approached Lord Blackwood who was understandably hesitant to instruct his son to court another lady so soon after Princess Daella’s rejection. But, he’d said, if Royce was willing then he would not object.
When the wheelhouse departed Raventree Hall, it was without Cassie and Jocelyn who had entrusted Lady Alys with a letter of explanation for Queen Alysanne at Riverrun.
Lord Blackwood agreed to send his son to accompany the Baratheons to Wayfarer's Rest (who had only Ser Arthur Bar Emmon for protection, Jocelyn having deviously dismissed the men-at-arms assigned to her) where they were to be greeted by Lord Vance and his wife, their cousin, Lady Marya.
“I think our Cassie surprised him,” said Jocelyn to Ramona. “Once she got over her nerves and actually spoke to him, I mean. And though we are surely biased, I know you’ll agree that she is very easy to love once you know her.”
After a sennight on the road together, the young pair had found themselves pleasantly acquainted (Jocelyn claiming excessive tiredness requiring her to spend long stretches napping and Ser Arthur keeping watch a distance away). When it was time for Royce to leave them, he’d shyly asked whether he might write to Cassie.
“I think she was a bit disappointed,” said Jocelyn. “She thought he meant to write to her at Dragonstone, but a raven came not five days later so he must have ridden hard for home to seek Lord Blackwood’s leave to formally court her.”
A few weeks and several letters later, the lordling returned to Wayfarer’s Rest along with his lord father. And on Cassie’s twenty-first name day, she was betrothed.
“She wanted to be wed before year’s end, but I told her you’d murder us both.”
“Goodness! There are only four weeks left in the year,” said Ramona, blinking rapidly. “I’ll need that much time just to get to the riverlands, never mind planning the wedding!”
“Cousin Marya promised to keep her unmarried until we can get back there. And I’ve asked Art to watch her as well.”
“She takes years to decide on a husband and now she can’t wait two short moons,” said Ramona shaking her head.
“Is that her maiden cloak?”
“Yes, I’ve been working on it since your letter came.”
Jocelyn took up her own needles to help.
As a compromise for waiting, Cassie had been allowed to remain in the riverlands as a guest of Lady Marya who was pleased at the prospect of having her kin close at hand.
Jocelyn stayed with them for some time, but there was much and more to be done on Dragonstone in preparation for winter and Prince Aemon had come to fetch her back upon Caraxes.
“He is not disappointed to lose out on wedding a princess?” asked Ramona after a time.
“Not Royce, no,” said Jocelyn. “I thought Lord Blackwood might be. Just a bit. But I think it helped some when Aemon came and he remembered that my husband will be king.”