Chapter Text
“Winterfell. Sounds like a made-up name to me”
Jacaerys readjusted in his seat to get a better look at the papers his stepfather Daemon laid before him.
Winterfell was written on the tape slapped on the folder. If the name were fake, they had surely chosen a gloomy one for an estate and the lands attached. It was a bit colder up there, maybe but certainly not cold enough to earn the name.
Jacaerys flipped the folder open and glanced through the table of contents.
The house was old and had been renovated on several occasions. There was nothing ominous about the record, the owners had cared about the estate enough to have alterations made every few years. Inside the folder were placed copies of each major gig done to the house, the most recent ones being a fresh layer of outside paint, new windows with emphasis on the insulation, and a nursery.
The current owner, Cregan Stark, had no children. Jacaerys tapped his finger on the printed-out name. It sounded as artificial as the name of the place.
Jacaerys’ hope wavered when he saw the family tree of the landowners – every man was called Stark, dating back centuries ago. Depending on Cregan’s character, he might consider the family lands the measure of his pride and honor. Some men were like that. They had nothing else to their name, not a pinch of decency.
“Do they have a farm or just the forest?” Jacaerys asked as he flipped the page.
The file listed all sorts of flora and fauna known to inhabit the land. A recent report from a nature conservation officer was attached, signaling a green light.
Daemon looked at him with a blank face and heavy-lidded eyes. He sat back in his chair across the long, oaken table. It was all very clean in his office. Tidy and only muted tones had been used in every design. The irony. Daemon was everything but muted when it came to his nature and the manner he handled his job as Rhaenyra Targaryen’s secretary. There'd been some good laughs about it since, as tradition had it, the boss always banged the secretary at the pre Christmas party. It didn’t sound impressive on paper, an assistant in essence, but titles could be fooling. Jacaerys wasn't above Daemon in the hierarchy. Were they a bunch of hens, Jacaerys would have to settle for the bottom of the grain bucket.
Jacaerys found some comfort knowing someone had to lick the bucket after he was finished.
“No farm, no nothing”, Daemon answered resentfully. “It’s an obnoxious case. They want to be difficult for the hell of it. Our latest offer went as far as to let them chop down the forest and keep the profit. I don’t think the envelope was ever even opened. Stubborn cunts these country people”
“These people? It says here the owner lives alone”, Jacaerys remarked.
“Stop interrupting me, boy”
Jacaerys let his posture drop and lowered his eyes. A necessary show of humility that would make their interaction a lot easier for him. Jacaerys couldn’t be too observant and most certainly not too witty. All those qualities irritated Daemon.
“Sorry, sir”, Jacaerys muttered.
“You’ll go in there and convince the owner to sell the lands. He can keep the house if there’s some sentimental value to it, I suppose”, Daemon grumbled.
Bobbing his head, Jacaerys went on to read more about the owner. Apparently his wife had left him some time ago but there was no mention of her name or the length of their marriage. No birth certificates, nothing of the sort. What had gone wrong? Was the nursery a bit too rushed? Jacaerys presumed the owner was an older gentleman. It was another misfortune for him as the older the people were, the harder they were to sway. Age made people get comfortable and grow roots.
Jacaerys knew that simply thinking his own beloved grandparents. Well-settled and stubborn. Country people got there twice as fast so far from the civilization. Daemon wasn't wrong about that.
“Don’t you think it’s strange?” Jacaerys began to suggest.
Daemon blinked slowly. Microaggressions.
“What is?” Daemon asked with a tone that didn’t indicate any interest.
“That your offers have been entirely ignored. You would think the owner had the decency to refuse or negotiate, even”, Jacaerys found it rather peculiar and especially rude.
“Are you telling me my men have failed to do their job?”
“No. I’m just saying maybe they’re a little too–“
“Too what?”
“A little too pushy”, Jacaerys said boldly as he knew how these things could be, he knew how things went when Daemon handled them alone. “The man’s obviously lonely, it says here that he’s divorced. No job, no community. You can’t pressure people like that to sell what’s been in the family for generations. It could mean a great deal to him and we have to respect those boundaries”
Jacaerys saluted himself for the sensitivity. It was pointless with Daemon but alas, let the record show that he tried.
“So, you’re refusing to take care of it?” Daemon asked immediately.
“That’s not what I said, sir. I will take care of it tactfully”
“Make sure you do. You can’t keep crawling back to your mother whenever you fail to carry out a simple task. I’m sick of it and frankly, so is he”
Jacaerys glared at Daemon while rising from his seat, the folder in hand. It wasn’t that he failed every task, it was that he couldn’t perform them exactly up to Daemon’s standards. Whenever Jacaerys succeeded with a client and everyone was ready to bust out the champagne, Daemon found something to complain about. The bubbly tasted bitter afterward.
The worst thing was, that Jacaerys’ mother often saw the tiny smudges in the mirror if Daemon only pointed them out relentlessly enough.
It quite surprised Jacaerys to see their family photograph in frames on Daemon’s desk. Felt almost grotesque.
“I will be in touch once I have the papers signed”, Jacaerys said before walking out.
He hoped the false confidence in his voice was fooling enough.
Jacaerys tossed the folder on the desk of his office before reaching for the phone. He dialed the number provided in the files— was stated to be the owner’s, where he could be reached.
It was always nerve-wracking to make the first call, a little reminder for his heart to pump. A part of him hoped the owner wouldn’t pick up but it was the obvious first place to start. The easiest way.
After ringing for a good few moments, someone finally picked up. Jacaerys almost jumped.
“Stark”
The voice was weary and raspy, the sort that raised one’s hair on the nape. Jacaerys quickly looked at the clock on his table. It was quarter past nine in the morning, so maybe it wasn’t unreasonable to presume the owner had been asleep. He sounded very well, Jacaerys found himself observing. Couldn’t be older than middle-aged judging by the voice, and it was indeed a nice voice.
“Good morning”, Jacaerys began courteously. “My name’s Jacaerys Velaryon. I’m calling today on behalf of my client Rhaenyra Targaryen regarding the offers that have been made–“
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The disconnection sound kept echoing in his ears.
Jacaerys sat still in disbelief, mouth left open like a goldfish outside its bowl. He had hung up. Jacaerys no longer felt so eager to suspect Daemon’s strategy of mistreatment. It sounded only right they harassed the owner if this was an example of Cregan Stark’s day-to-day behavior. No manners to speak of. Jacaerys slammed his phone down.
He would have to pay the owner a visit.
Reclined in his chair, Jacaerys pulled out his notebook and opened it from the calendar section. He could leave the very same afternoon. It was some drive away. A field day was good for the lungs not so much for the stress.
Jacaerys supposed he shouldn’t expect a warm welcome.
It rained that afternoon – not pouring but a light veil. Jacaerys kept having to switch the wipers on and off. He had started the drive downtown, reached the outskirts and the countryside, and continued through a far more remote town.
Whenever the road was clear, Jacaerys glimpsed down at the GPS. The turn was sudden from the side of the main road, winding down into the forest. No more than a kilometer down the dirt road that had turned wet and muddy due to the rain, the GPS no longer provided instructions.
The forest was thick and had unlikely been thinned out in recent years. The trees were tall and so near each other that it was difficult to see much further. The weather made it all look twice as gloomy – the shadows were long and black as coal, the poorly managed wooden fence felt like it was trying to hold back the woods from swallowing the entire road.
Had something monstrous charged at the car from the dark, Jacaerys wouldn’t have been surprised.
He drove past a field and an old red barn. There had likely been a farm once, it’d make an awfully lot of sense considering the area. A small beam of light glimpsed behind the clouds.
Jacaerys spun his head around behind the wheel to look for the house as he drove forward.
Soon enough, the road turned to the yard of a house. There was vegetation all over, the forest gave in just enough for the estate to even exist. Like it had been there first and the sweeping woods just had to respect it. Apple trees grew on the yard. A poorly managed hedgerow wrapped around it and a closed iron gate blocked anyone entering from the side of the road.
It looked like a fortress. Visitors were not expected, definitely not wanted.
Jacaerys hopped out of his car and walked over to the gate. Built into the side was a buzzer for the intercom. Jacaerys carefully lifted the dusty cover and pressed the button. It made no sound.
“Hello?” Jacaerys tried, just in case.
There was no response. Jacaerys approached the gate and tried one of the iron bars with his hand. It was a mechanical gate, he could tell that much. The space between looked barely wide enough for a person to fit through.
It was very much intruding on someone’s private property, a sketchy thing to do. People put up gates and fences for a reason. He would be quick about it, he had a job to do.
Jacaerys left his car on the road and squeezed through the gate. Rain wet his hair and coat.
There had been a garden, not too long ago. Whatever had grown there, was swallowed by all manner of weeds, even the stones lining the flower beds were difficult to spot at first glimpse. Only one of them was trimmed. The lawn was badly overgrown. If someone did indeed live in the house still, they had no interest in gardening.
Or tending to the property, for that matter. The paint of the house was scraped. It had been grey and blue from what Jacaerys could tell but the sun had burnt away all shade. The trail to the house was made out of honed slates. Rain turned them slippery. Jacaerys had to mind his step.
The house was on the larger side, an old country house with two floors and a base made of stone. It had stood there for ages and it looked like it intended to stand there for another good century.
Jacaerys saw no light in any of the windows. He wouldn’t have believed anyone lived there if the steps to the door didn’t look like they’d been swept clean recently.
It brought him some comfort.
Jacaerys raised his hand and knocked on the door. He did so twice and thrice and no one answered.
From the porch, he could see a guest house further up ahead. It, too, looked as quiet as the main building. Maybe the owner treated it all as a summer place and didn’t actually live there. It would contradict the files – they had stated this was the primary residence.
Jacaerys stepped out of the porch and walked around the house. The open garage had two vehicles in it. Someone had to be home, if not indoors, then on the property. He couldn’t imagine anyone sane walking to town in such weather, if at all. The location was too remote.
He returned to the front door and knocked again twice more, firmly and audibly.
It was then the door opened so suddenly that Jacaerys staggered back a couple of steps. Before him stood a tall man with dark hair and hard, grey eyes. His shoulders were broad and his posture was proud. The shirt he wore was black, Jacaerys couldn’t tell if it had been ironed.
“What do you want?” the man asked with the voice Jacaerys had heard on the phone, it wasn’t easily forgotten.
Cregan Stark was younger than Jacaerys had expected. His beard was unshaven which must have added some years to his appearance. The grim look on his face did him no favors. The strands of his curly hair hadn’t been combed, they were sticking into every direction of the wind. Like he'd just rolled out of bed. He looked untamed. A wild dog.
Jacaerys found himself stuttering as he offered his hand.
“My name’s Jacaerys. We spoke on the phone– well, I tried speaking to you on the phone. I am here on the behalf of my client–”
“Gods”, Cregan muttered and turned his head away listlessly, hand still holding the door open. “You people are very persistent, I see”
Slowly, Jacaerys lowered his extended hand.
Cregan’s manners were no better in person. He didn’t sound as angry as he looked, if Jacaerys was to give him some credit, and he certainly did not avoid eye contact. Jacaerys felt Cregan’s gaze on him from head to heel as if Cregan was measuring him.
“I'm afraid so. I came over to ensure you have received the offers–“, Jacaerys continued only to be cut off at once.
“I have declined them and I don’t intend to change my mind. Might you leave? How did you even get in here?”
“I– slipped through the gate”, Jacaerys admitted with embarrassment a hot glow on his face. “I did try the intercom but no one picked up”
“It never occurred to you it might be because I don’t want to be disturbed?”
Jacaerys nodded understandingly before trying to raise a subtle, polite smile on his face. He had to be patient.
“Yes, of course, and I’m very sorry to bother you. I’m just trying to do my job. If you could spare me only a few minutes to go over the offer one more time and make sure there’s no misunderstanding between my client and yourself”, Jacaerys persuaded him.
“The only misunderstanding here is you being on my property”, Cregan said sternly.
“I will leave as soon as I’ve seen you read the offer– please, sir. I would much rather discuss this indoors, if you would be so kind. I'm a bit soaked and cold”
Cregan stepped out of the doorway directly in front of Jacaerys and stared down at him. Jacaerys stood still, sure he would fall to the porch’s steps if he tried to back off even as Cregan was close enough to nearly touch him. Jacaerys’ heart jumped in his throat. Tried to throttle him to get out easy.
“Do I have to get my gun?” Cregan lowered his voice to a deep threat.
Jacaerys shook his head quickly.
“There is no need. I’m leaving. I apologize– profusely”, Jacaerys gasped.
Cregan’s face didn’t soften as he withdrew back indoors and slammed the door shut so hard that the window of the lobby shuddered. Jacaerys hopped off the porch and hurried across the yard back to the gate.
Soaked by the rain, Jacaerys squeezed through in such a rush he almost tore his coat. He reached his car, sat behind the wheel, and drove off with a hurried U-turn, sending mud flying off the road.
“Psycho”, Jacaerys muttered angrily to himself.
Why was it so much to ask Cregan would just look at the papers? Why couldn’t he cooperate so Jacaerys could at least tell Daemon that he had tried? It wouldn’t take more than a few minutes at most. It was no place to threaten him. Jacaerys’ hands on the wheel were shaking from the cold and the adrenaline. He muttered another set of insults at the owner.
Cregan was deranged, not right in the head. Nobody behaved like that. It was just a patch of land the owner didn’t even need, he should be thrilled to sell it, especially for the price Jacaerys’ mother had offered.
Country people.
Jacaerys’ heart rate eased when he reached the main road.
At home, Jacaerys cracked open a can of beer and picked up his phone. He dreaded telling Daemon the result of the visit. There was nothing else he could’ve done but Daemon wouldn’t see it that way. He would see it as incompetence and laziness. One was supposed to take a bullet for his job. Jacaerys cleared his throat while he waited for Daemon to pick up.
“Did you secure it?” was Daemon’s very first question, not even a hello.
They didn't do hellos.
“No. He’s not selling”, Jacaerys said quietly, although he knew there was no reason he should be ashamed of the result.
He heard Daemon sigh heavily.
“Wasn’t your tactful strategy supposed to make him sell? What went wrong, hmm?” Daemon asked.
“He threatened to shoot me!”
Daemon’s laugh made Jacaerys seethe. It was easy for him to say, he hadn’t been there driving onto this strange property in the middle of fucking nowhere and having the owner twice Jacaerys’ size threaten to shoot him. Might as well have just snapped him like a dead twig but then there'd be all the blood to clean up. Jacaerys tried to amuse himself.
“He might as well have, maybe Luke will have better luck getting him to sign the papers”, Daemon said cruelly.
“What do you want me to do?” Jacaerys raised his voice. “I can’t force him to accept, this is already unethical as it is!”
“Unethical, huh? Is that really getting in the way?”
“Obviously. Mother wouldn’t want me breaking the law, either”
“Well, good thing your mother isn’t taking care of this. Find a way. Everyone has a price, maybe you weren’t quite tactful enough”
Jacaerys rolled his eyes defiantly but kept his mouth shut. It was no use trying to reason with Daemon, he must’ve been exalted Jacaerys wasn’t making any progress with the deal. Jacaerys could meet his mother and let her know the status. The issue was, whatever Rhaenyra heard, was never far from reaching Daemon’s ears, as well. Like an echo chamber. Daemon had many articulate ways of calling Jacaerys an incompetent coward. And those always hit hard, splintered the hull of a person. Jacaerys would be a sinking boat.
“I’ll try again”, Jacaerys brooded.
“That’s the spirit. Good night, Jace”, Daemon said before the call disconnected.
That was it, then. Daemon was more than happy to throw him in the way of fire. Always the meatshield.
“Cunt”, Jacaerys mumbled to himself as he placed down the phone.
Jacaerys read through the folder again. He wanted to believe there was a reason, something he had overlooked, that made Cregan so unwilling to even negotiate. Some people just were vicious like him by nature, Jacaerys couldn’t quite tell in Cregan’s case. The man was dangerously hostile and Jacaerys couldn’t exactly push him. He didn’t want to get shot or have the police involved.
The latter would likely frustrate Daemon more. They’d have to give up on trying to purchase the property.
Jacaerys’ thoughts circled around Winterfell even as he crawled to bed. He lay his head down and stared at the folder on his nightstand with a deep frown on his face.
He needed a plan. A good one.