At the bright young age of 14, Jacsen rode away to squire to Ser Jason Mallister, Lord of Seagard. At the broken age of 15, he returned from the battlefield with his right leg trailing behind him, limping on his left and a cane. Just that quickly, a promising squirehood ended, leaving the young man with a broken dream of knighthood that would never come to pass. Had he not been received well and with honor - he had suffered a battle-wound in glorious service, after all - he may have found a quiet room and fallen on his sword. Luckily, he survived, but his leg did not.
He was allowed some time to wallow and sulk, but not nearly as much as he would've liked. Back in the court of Ser Jason Mallister, surrounded by squires-become-knights and knights-become-heroes, he would never take part in the heroes' boasts or the drinking songs or the boisterous whoring. They looked at him with pity, the survivors - pity upon his leg, pity upon his lost knighthood, pity upon the broken boy who would never be a warrior. He could feel the gazes hot on the back of his skull wherever he went.
So he began to avoid the court and the others. He would disappear for long stretches of the day, seeking obscurity in the far reaches, using his cane as a crutch and forsaking finery to blend in with the commoners. The ploy only worked for a time, but it was time he considered valuable - he observed the common folk, how they lived, and how they worked. This would help him while serving at Ser Jason's court, where his experienced married with his quick wit would allow him to excel beyond all expectations. He would make many friends and enemies both during his six years there.
Then followed his illustrious return to Terrick's Roost. The Big Picture shifted significantly with the departure of his older brother Jaremy, leaving him as the heir in line and husband to Anais Banefort besides. These were all changes he took in stride - or tried to, anyhow - but the passage of his mother was too much to bear. A deep melancholy overtook him, and sickness wasn't far behind. It manifested first as a mild illness, then progressed unexpectedly to delirium and high fever, the Young Lord riding highs and lows battling his body for over three months in fits - sometimes lucid, other times speaking madness, other times seizing wildly and having to be restrained.
As though by fate, he came out of his sickness the same day his wife was kidnapped, brought around by the Maester who was able to correct the complications that arose from his old leg injury. Some medicines to be rid of a nasty unseen infection and milk of the poppy to keep the pain away was enough to get a still sickly but coherent Jacsen out of bed and wandering the halls, now on the way to recovery.
The Young Lord's features are strong and sharp, with dark and heavy brows over piercing blue eyes. A patrician nose and a sharp jawline amplify the effect of masculine nobility. The thick brown hair that frames it all seems always to be two weeks past well-kempt, leaning on the shaggy side. Lean, toned limbs display the sleek strength of a nobleman instead of the raw power of a knight, complemented by his clean and perfectly-fitted vestments in Terrick gold and purple. Despite all this, the first thing most people notice is the cane he relies heavily upon, as his right leg is unable to support all his weight; its clicking often announces his presence long before he comes into view.
Allies and Foes
More to come.