Chapter Text
Weapons were like clothes, Helaena had decided. Many of them made her recoil at the slightest touch, her skin itching at the weight of them in her hand.
But just like fabrics, some weapons did not cause such an adverse reaction in her. Some of them were nice, she decided as she turned the knife over in her hands. A comforting weight, an avenue of independence from the stifling expectations that came with being a princess.
Helaena would never be like the Targaryen warriors of old. History would not remember her for being fierce like Visenya had been, the queen who went to such great lengths to protect her family. Nor would any ballads be sung remembering Dreamfyres second rider being as bold as Rhaena, the queen who had stood against tyranny even as her family fell apart around her.
Rhaenyra would be remembered for those feats and more, of that Helaena was sure. But Helaena could never dare to be as they were, did not have the courage to stray even further from what was expected of her. But perhaps she could be like Daenys, whose dreams had saved her family. Maybe she could be like Rhaenys, the woman who had carved her brother’s warning into her own blade so that it would not be lost to time. Someone who her family could go to for advice. Someone they listened to, who they understood.
Helaena hummed as she turned the knife over again. Her sisters sworn shield had produced it after her third week of training with him, her uncle Gwayne grinning at his side as they presented it to her.
Ser Harwins sisters were quite fond of the particular type of knife, he had claimed. The knight had shown her how to unfold it, but his sisters would be teaching her how to use it properly when they arrived in the capital. While many lords fled the heat of the capital, droves of noble lady’s remained, eager to gain royal favour by aiding in the newly opened women’s courts. Helaena’s mother had spent every spare moment she had with Lady Laena as they worked to manage them all, running ragged as they oversaw the additions to each royal women’s household while also organising the reinstatement of one of Queen Alysannes most famous works.
Even if it meant that she did not see her mother nearly as often, Helaena was just glad that the implementation of Laena, Rhaena and Baelas households had kept Alicent too distracted to implement much change in Helaenas own. Her grandfather had been insistent in his letters that Helaena dismiss her current maids in favour of daughters of the various nobles he was currying favour with. A princess should not be attended on by common maids he had claimed, especially one who would soon be married.
But those letters had stopped since Rhaenyras coronation, for it was no longer Alicents decision as for whom and when Helaena married. It was Rhaenyras prerogative now and Helaena was quite certain her sister would not make her marry anytime soon, considering her offer to marry her to Jace had come with a rather long betrothal.
She probably would not mind marriage to Jace she thought idly, tilting her head as she watched him spar with Aemond. He was generally a sweet boy, mean pranks with Aegon aside. He had never mocked her strange ways and had been one of the first to congratulate her after she had claimed Dreamfyre.
No it was not marriage to Jace that she would dislike, Helaena decided as Aemond knocked the younger prince to the ground. It was simply everything else that would come with being married to the future king. Helaena was not unaware of her reputation, for the cruel gossip of the courtiers was able to pierce even the dowager queens protective shield.
“Helaena?” Rhaenas voice drew her out of her thoughts as her cousin settled down beside her. The slight distance she left between them so that she would not brush against Helaena did not escape the princesses notice. Fondness rushed through her at how thoughtful the younger girl was, for while Rhaena was often eager to embrace the other children, she held back for Helaena.
“Oh are you finished?” Helaena asked, tilting her head so she could see where Lucerys stood next to her uncle. He had been practising archery with Rhaena and seemed to have taken to it much better than he did the sword.
“I am.” Rhaena folded her hands primly in front of her, tucking her legs under her as if she was wearing her usual skirts rather than her riding leathers. She sniffed haughtily, her voice travelling across the courtyard as she raised her nose in a rather accurate imitation of some of the court ladies. “I believe I’ve beaten Luke enough times now that he should have learnt his lesson.”
Rhaena held that pose for all of two beats before Luke’s cry of protest sounded out, prompting both girls to burst into giggles in the face of his offence.
Luke huffed, pouting at them as Daeron and Jace walked over, both boys hiding their snickering behind their hands. Behind the two princes, Baela tugged a seemingly apprehensive Aemond along with her. She only let go once she had dragged him into their little gaggle of children, marching over to seat herself on the other side of Helaena.
Aemond hovered on the edge, obviously unsure of whether he was welcome or not. Helaena fidgeted, eyes wide as she tried to figure out what the other children would do. Jace and Luke had been nothing but friendly during their other training sessions, with Aegons absence seeming to have put an end to any unfriendly teasing, but this was the first time Aemond had joined them after instead of slinking off before they could notice.
Luke had none of his uncle’s apprehension though and Aemond startled slightly when the younger boy marched over and grabbed his arm. Taking no notice of his uncle’s bewilderment, the Velaryon heir huffed as he pointedly turned his back to the rest.
“You’re my favourite now, Aemond.” Luke informed the older boy seriously, ignoring the mock cries of offence from Rhaena and Jace. “That means you can have my biscuit at dinners and help me convince mother to let Arrax stay in the Keep courtyard.”
Aemond blinked down at his nephew, his confusion clear as Luke remained glued to his side, rambling on as they walked back to their chambers. Helaena just smiled beatifically when he shot her a desperate look, ignoring his silent pleas for help as her maids ushered her into her rooms and towards the mercifully steaming tub they had prepared.
Lunch was held outside that day, with both Princess Rhaenys and Lady Laena joining them. Helaena curtsied properly to both of the elder woman, who each returned it with fond smiles as the rest of the children followed her with similar formal greetings.
“Such polite young princes and princesses.” Rhaenys remarked as they sat down, Valyrian falling smoothly from her lips with an ease that Helaena envied. Luke and Jace claimed the seats on either side of her, though not before both boys had dashed forward to give her a quick embrace. “You must have been listening intently in your etiquette lessons. Tell me, whose influence is it that has caused my grandchildren to develop manners in the past few weeks? Aemond or Helaena?”
Helaena ducked her head, raising a hand to her mouth to try and hide her giggles as said grandchildren burst out in a strange amalgamation of Valyrian and Common as they stoutly defended their honour. Meanwhile, Aemond blushed at the Targaryen matriarch’s words, bowing his head as he attempted to hide the red creeping over his cheeks.
“Even your Valyrian has improved!” Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, impassive in the face of her grandchildren’s pouts. “Why, if your parents had known that Helaena and Aemonds presence in your lessons would cause such an improvement then they would most certainly have put you together moons ago.”
“In their defence, Muna,” Laena interjected, her eyes dancing with amusement. “It’s not like the boys have had the greatest of examples, for they are unfortunately my brother’s children and I’m afraid not even dear Rhaenyras influence can fully overcome the Velaryon distaste for proper manners.”
“I do not believe you have a leg to stand on Laena.” Rhaenys replied primly, arching a stern brow at Luke when he tried to refuse the vegetables being spooned onto his plate. The boy grinned sheepishly, pulling his hand back to his side and letting the maid continue. “After all, it wasn’t exactly proper manners to run off with the man who had just killed your betrothed.”
“Mother!” Laena gaped at the elder woman, looking scandalised at her words.
Helaena hummed, letting the friendly bickering wash over her as she picked at her food. It was simple fare, some meats and cheese along with Luke’s hated vegetables. Tala, who was Helaenas favourite of her mother handmaidens purely because of her silent understanding, was quick to slide an extra plate in front of her.
Helaena smiled in thanks, though she was far more focused on listening to Baela ramble on excitedly about how her mother had agreed to commission her new dresses.
“They are the same style as Aunt Rhaenyras coronation dress.” Baela explained, her eyes bright. “Though,” She added, pouting in Laenas direction. “Mother says that I can wear them to my lessons, but not at court or to feasts.”
Laena groaned, shaking her head as Princess Rhaenys sighed, settling a fondly exasperated look on her eldest granddaughter. Baelas pout didn’t falter under her grandmothers admonition, though the younger girl was quick to straighten up.
“How we present ourselves before the royal court holds a very different weight than how we present ourselves in our private doings.” The elder woman stated, her words directed towards them all. “There are certain expectations and conventions we must uphold, even if we don’t like them.”
“But,” Helaenas words were hesitant, but she pushed forward even as the tables attention was drawn to her. “Nyra wore it to her coronation and surely that would be considered a formal setting? Why would Baela not be able to do the same?”
“True, but you must consider the point that Rhaenyra was making.” Rhaenys replied, setting her life and fork down as she settled back into her seat. “Tell me children, what kind of message do you think she was trying to send?”
“That’s she’s a Targaryen?” Jace suggested, his brow furrowing as she looked towards his grandmother. “She was trying to showcase our heritage, to remind every one of the power that dragons give us.”
“In part, yes.” Rhaenys conceded. “But do you think that perhaps there was more to it?”
Jaces lips twisted but he said no more. Rhaenys glanced around the table, studying each of them throughly before her gaze settled on Rhaena.
Rhaena eyes were narrowed and Helaena could almost see her mind racing along, turning her thought over and over again. The younger girl was worrying at her lip in the way she only did when she was lost in her thoughts, too mindful of propriety to do so otherwise.
“Rhaena?” Rhaenys prompted, arching an eyebrow as her youngest granddaughters gaze snapped to meet her own. “Do you have anything to share?”
“I-“ Rhaena started, before stopping. She swallowed, ducking her head as she pushed her food around. “I’m probably wrong.”
“Maybe.” Rhaenys said. “Maybe not.”
“There isn’t really a wrong answer with this, my love.” Laena added. “It could be that you picked up on an entirely different meaning than us, one that we had not thought of but that members of the court have. It’s better for us to have many perspectives rather than just a few.”
“Well,” Rhaena said slowly, her lips twisting as she thought. “Aunt Rhaenyra is the first Queen to sit the Iron Throne through her own power.”
“She is the first Queen Regnant, yes.” Rhaenys confirmed.
“But most of the realm is governed by men and they think that men are more suited to ruling than women are.” Rhaena explained, leaning forward as her words came quicker. “Mother always says that the way we present ourselves has meaning and that is why we have to be so careful with how we dress, so that we do not send the wrong message.”
“Indeed.” Laena nodded, crossing her legs and settling back in her chair with a proud smile. “If you showed up to a duel in the house colours of one knight, then most would assume that you are declaring your support for them.”
“Right, and Grandmother said that Jace was correct when he said that Aunt Rhaenyra was trying to convey her power.” Rhaena waited until Laena nodded to continue, Valyrian coiling itself around her tongue. “But she wore both pants and a skirt, like how we would wear for riding.”
Rhaenas spoke Valyrian the best out of all of the royal children. Her words held little accent, and she was fluent in a way that spoke not only to a childhood spent mostly in Pentos and Driftmark but also of countless hours of practise.
Helaena suppressed the sudden rush of jealousy at the realisation that Rhaena would have had the opportunity to practise. Both of her parents were fluent and they so obviously adored their daughter. Helaenas own mother had sat in on some of their Valyrian lessons when they first started them, determined to learn the ancestral language of her husband and children. But as the Kings illness worsened, the Queen had grown increasingly burdened with her duties until it was rare that her children saw her for more than an hour at supper.
Helaena had a few memories of being lead by her nannies to the Kings chambers before bed. She thinks he had lifted her onto his lap, back before the rot had taken his arm. Viserys had shown her the great city he was recreating, letting her hold the stone models of dragons and people long lost to time. He had taught her how to say dragon in Valyrian and regaled her with stories from
when Valyria was glorious, his voice wistful as he spoke of their magic and might, of their dreamers and their dragons.
The nannies had stopped taking her not long after Jace was born.
“Rhaenyra was being crowned as only Kings have been but she isn’t a King. But she is ruling as one and so she had to show that she could be both?” Rhaenas voice was hesitant now, questioning as she looked between her mother and grandmother.
“Exactly, my dear.” Rhaenys smiled, reaching over to pat her hand. “The lords of this realm respect the crown because it is backed by both our dragons and by the sword and the shield. Rhaenyra has to show that she, as a woman, is still perfectly capable of wielding those symbols.”
“Is that why she sent Aegon away?” Jace asked. “Because he’s old enough to also wield those?”
“Of course that’s why.” Aemond scowled, glaring down at his plate. “She couldn’t have the biggest threat to her claim running around the Keep or the court might get ideas… ow! Daeron!”
Their younger brother met Aemonds glare with an unapologetic one of his own, with Helaena joining him when Aemond turned to her. Aemond wilted under his siblings displeasure, rubbing at his leg and slouching in his seat with a muttered apology.
“Aegon got sent away for his own safety.” Rhaenys sighed, though she softened in the face of Aemonds obvious misery. “It is perfectly alright to miss your brother Aemond. In fact I would encourage you to, but you must be cautious. The walls of this keep have ears and unfortunately not even our private gatherings are safe from that.”
Her words landed on not only Aemond, but on each royal child. Solemn looks fell over each of them at the reminder.
Aegon would be kidnappers had breached the most inner sanctum of the Red Keep. If they could do that then who knew what else they could do?
“Words like yours can so easily be misconstrued.” Laena cut in, reaching over to grab ahold of Aemonds hand. “So we must simply be careful of where and how we say them.”
A murmur of agreement went around the table and both adults sat back, seemingly satisfied.
“Grandmother?” Lunch was nearly at its end when Jace piped up, his expression cautious as he looked towards his grandmother. “Do you know where mother is?”
“I believe she is currently with the Master of Coin.” Rhaenys set her tea cup down, settling back as the servants moved to clear the table. “After that I believe she is sitting the throne to hear petitions and then she has and audience with Lord Darklyn and is taking dinner with Lady Celtigar.”
“Oh.” Jaces shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes downcast.
Helaena bit her lip, eyes wide as she stared at her eldest nephew. Aegon had often scoffed about his desire to be the perfect prince for his mother, bemoaning how Jaces dedication to his lessons was second only to Aemonds.
He must miss his mother, she realised. Rhaenyras duties had doubled with her accession and while many noble children their age would be lucky to see their parents twice a week, Rhaenyra and Laenor had always been very attentive parents.
“Though.” Rhaenys said thoughtfully. “I do believe the Queen has a free afternoon tomorrow.”
“She does?” Jace perked up, his eyes hopeful.
“Indeed.” Rhaenys nodded. “She was hoping to take you flying, since Lucerys shall be with your grandfather.”
“Vermax can come as well!” The young Prince of Dragonstone gasped, his grin wide as he squirmed in his seat. “The dragon keepers say he is strong enough to do longer flights now!”
“I am sure your mother and Syrax could be convinced on that.” Laena interjected, her smile fond as she watched her nephew struggle to contain his excitement. “Though for now, I do believe you have to return to your lessons.”
Baela and Luke groaned, protesting as Ser Erryk and Lady Elinda stepped forward to usher each of them out of their seats. Rhaena just pressed a kiss to her mother and grandmothers cheeks before grabbing ahold of her sister as Jace did the same with Luke. Helaena followed behind them with her own brothers, suppressing her amusement as Luke lamented their fates.