Chapter Text
Helaena has seen many things in her dreams of which many came to fruition, but she can honestly say she had never seen this coming.
—
Four moons ago with her twins circled in her arms and her youngest strapped to her back, she had flown her dragon Dreamfyre high into the chilly night air. Her destination was Dragonstone. Jaehaera’s dragon Morghul and Jaehaerys’s dragon Shrykos followed a safe distance from the giant she-dragon. She had taken her children from their room and ran through Maegor’s secret passageways until she reached the outside of the Red Keep. From there she trekked on foot to her dragon’s den across the city. It was a miracle she wasn’t seen. Her plan if she were to be caught was to swallow the vile of poison in her sleeve. She did not think any harm would come to the children, just her. The traitor.
Once she landed on Dragonstone, begged Rhaenyra to spare her and her children, she was then slowly entrusted with the war plans of the rightful queen of the seven kingdoms. It took awhile if only because Daemon was infinitely suspicious of her. She could not fault him for his doubts. She knew of his distaste for Hightower blood all too well.
His doubts were fruitless in the end. She proved herself committed to the cause when she begged him to teach her the art of battle on dragonback.
She had only ridden Dreamfyre for pleasure, so learning to use her for battle was difficult. At first Helaena wanted to stay out of the fighting for the sake of her children and just the fact of her unwillingness to purposefully hurt someone or something else living.
When Rhaenyra summoned her to the throne room late at night a fortnight after her arrival, her decision waned.
Aegon and Aemond on their dragons Sunfyre and Vhagar had attacked princess Rhaenys and Meleys. The first blatant attack officially declaring war was by the greens. It was what Rhaenyra was waiting on, not wanting to go to war unless provoked.
Luckily being the swiftest dragon of the three, Meleys retreated although she was injured and has yet to be able to fly again. The dragonkeepers think that eventually she will, but as of now the blacks were down one dragon.
Helaena had foolishly hoped that the true war for the throne wouldn’t happen. She had hoped that her defection would make her family wake up and realize that what they had done was wrong and they were spitting on the grave of their father and husband and king.
Perhaps she thought too highly of her brothers. No doubt Alicent and Otto were involved but Aemond and Aegon were the ones who ultimately did the deed. And this made Helaena fume.
She had always done her duty even when it killed her to. She never wanted to marry her drunkard older brother. She never wanted to pump out heirs, to be used as a broodmare or to be used at all. Her brothers were people, they were important. They were princes. She had only ever been a girl. A female with a womb to do the servicing of men and through that the realm. It made her sick if she thought about it for too long, but when she started to voice any objections, her mother would whisper harshly in her ear and tug on her upper arm and threaten her under the guise of motherly love. She learned to keep quiet.
Aemond was the only one whom she thought understood her. Eventually she realized he loved her. And even with her circumstances, she was happy that that was something she got to have for only herself. And their love was only theirs. Although to the realm the children came from the seed of her husband, only she and Aemond knew the real truth. She thought that he had loved her and their children. At the very least as much as the rest of the family.
It turns out she was wrong. And it was almost too much for her to bear.
The walls became suffocating when she learned he helped in the usurpation of their fathers throne. They spoke of it before when they were curled together in bed. She told him how she did not want to be queen. That they must fulfill their father's wishes. That Rhaenyra was what was best for the realm. He would hum his assurance of his understanding. Perhaps she was too quick to assume that had meant he agreed with her. She thought she knew the man she loved.
The children’s lives were at stake. Aemond’s mistake that damns them all. She had seen it. And its consequence was blood and cheese and knives and death and screaming. No. That would never happen. And so she left without a word. None of them deserved it.
After many weeks of learning how to use a dragon in warfare from her uncle, she was sent on missions that slowly became more and more violent. At first she would simply patrol the docks along the narrow sea making sure the trade was cut off from King’s Landing. Then she would fly to smaller lords to convince them to support the true ruler.
Eventually she engaged in her first battle.
On her way back from meeting with a potential ally, she spotted a small troop of Lannister soldiers marching toward the capital. She was going to fly right by them, but they launched a scorpion at her. She was taken aback. In her mind she never thought her family would allow their armies to attack her. Reality hit like a rock.
Up there in the morning air, the sun shining through the big fluffy clouds, Helaena experienced a rage she had never felt before. If she were in her right mind, it would have scared her. This was not her, this was not who she was. She was princess Helaena, the dreamer, shy and quiet and weird and off putting. But angry? Hateful? Never.
So after she had screamed dracarys and torched the entire platoon to ashes, coming out of the fog was shocking. She cried the entire ride back to Dragonstone.
That had changed her. She no longer flinched at death. No longer second guessed herself when shouting for Dreamfyre to reign down hell upon the men below her. Sometimes she chuckles to herself thinking how horrified mother would be to see her now. Would any of her family even recognize her anymore?
It hadn't been that long since she’d last seen them, and yet it felt like it had been years.
She mentioned this to her sister once during dinner.
“Well sweet sister, perhaps you can use it to your advantage. They still see you as the meek and obedient princess Helaena. They will not anticipate a dragon’s wrath to come from you,” Rhaenyra said.
“Yes, perhaps you can meet with either of your brothers under the guise of you wanting to go back to the Keep. Say that you made a mistake and you want to be with them again. Send a letter telling them where to meet you. Play the scared little girl until they let their guard down, then attack. Gods, I’d pay good coin to see the looks on their faces,” daemon suggested as he hid his smile in his goblet of wine.
“That might work. I will write to Aemond. He will be the most likely to believe m-”
“Helaena, no! Vhagar is the largest dragon alive. To take him on alone would be suicide. To take the old bitch down will involve at least two full grown dragons who know battle.”
“Aemond will never fall into that trap though! He will see that I and Dreamfyre are absent and flee. He may be arrogant but he is not stupid, my king. If he is outnumbered he will flee. If it were just me, his guard will be down and thus so will Vhagar. I may not have much experience in using dragons in warfare, but my girl Dreamfyre, the second largest dragon with a rider, knows what I will ask of her. She is no stranger to violence. I can do it,” she said with conviction.
Daemon had looked at his wife, and after their silent deliberation had agreed to Helaena’s plan. Of course, they wouldn’t leave her alone in her plans.
Far enough away not to be seen will be Daemon on Caraxes ready to assist in the takedown should it be necessary. Vermax and Jace will patrol the surrounding area as a lookout in case Aegon comes as well. The rest of the dragon riders will stay to guard Dragonstone. Aemond will not expect an attack from Helaena, so strategy will not be on his mind. He was only a boy of twenty after all. Practically a baby compared to the experience of Daemon regarding battle and war strategies.
And so, she now finds herself atop Dreamfyre, waiting to see a giant green shadow in the sky. Dreamfyre lands in an open field. Helaena thinks she must seem as passive as possible to diverge suspicion.
As she sits and contemplates the implausibility of being where she is, she and her mount wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Bloody hell, maybe he won’t come, she thinks. Regardless, she must fortify her mind to anything he might say to her. She honestly can’t say if he will be desperate for her return, rageful at her apparent abandonment of him, or if he will play the perfect little soldier for their brother, the false king.
She tries to think of all the things they have done to wrong her, how she was treated, how she was never anyone’s first choice. How she was only valued for what she could do for others, never the other way around.
Dreamfyre lets out a low grumble, feeling her rider’s distress. Helaena pats her dragon with a gloved hand.
“It’s ok sweet girl. I hate this waiting as well, but we must be ready,” she murmurs.
—
It is nearly sunset by the time she is stirred awake from her slumber by the movement of her dragon under her.
Her head whips around and she scans the skies. Nothing.
What do you sense, sweet girl? What is it?
Moments go by and Dreamfyre is more wound up after each one. She lets loose a growl, a warning.
Helaena hears it then. The throaty deep rumble of the dragon that once brought her comfort and familiarity.
Now it sends a chill down her spine.