Chapter Text
Helaena was scared of the dreams.
She remembered the first time she had dreamed. It had been her fifth nameday, and she had fallen asleep after gorging herself on cake. Her mother, Alicent Hightower, had lifted her up into her arms, and her father, King Viserys Targaryen, had placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek and wished her goodnight. As Alicent carried her away from the dining room of the Red Keep, the last thing she saw before her heavy eyes closed was the sight of her older brother Aegon wrestling her younger brother Aemond to the ground, with Kingsguard Criston Cole shouting and moving to separate them.
Then, her eyes closed.
Suddenly, she found herself standing at the top of a cliff of jagged black stone. Dark clouds swirled violently above her, and howling hot winds buffeted her from every direction. Beneath her, as far as her eyes could see, was a storming ocean as violent and dark as the sky above. But instead of sprays of water and white foam emitted as the dark waves clashed, she saw molten streams and jets of flame. It wasn’t this terrifying sight that disturbed her so much. It was the sound. Standing on that cliff in her dream, she could only hear what sounded like screaming. Screaming from untold numbers of people seemed to arise from the churning fiery ocean beneath her. She tried to move back away from the flames and the screaming, but instead, she found herself falling backward. As she did, she witnessed a massive dark figure burst from the molten ocean in an eruption of black flame. It was a dragon far bigger than any dragon she had ever seen. As she was still falling, she could only watch as the dragon flew right at her, opening its gaping maw just as she opened her own mouth to add her scream to the hellish chorus resounding in her ears. And then everything went silent and dark.
When she registered that she was still alive and intact, not having been devoured by a dragon, she breathed a sigh of relief, only to suddenly feel what felt like wet sand underneath her. Cold horror washed over her. She had not yet escaped the dream. She sat up and looked around. She was now on a desolate beach. A sheet of pure grey had now replaced the previously dark and stormy clouds, and there was only the sound of the water gently washing up and away from the shore. She looked behind her and saw what looked like the great beast that had just devoured her, lying still. It was not dead, as she could still hear pained and labored breathing, sounding more like groans emitting from it. Its black body slowly rose and fell with each breath, and she could see deep red wounds gouged into its side from which stinking, thick blood oozed out. She reached out to the dragon but then spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned back and now saw a woman standing on the dull beach. The woman was tall and gaunt, with a tattered white dress that hung loosely in some parts and seemed to catch on bone in other parts. Her eyes were sunken and dark, flanked by curtains of long, unkempt white hair. Helaena did not move. Neither did the woman. Then, the woman raised her arm and pointed at her. Then she began to scream, and the cacophony of screams from before returned. Helaena couldn’t bear it and moved her hands to her ears, trying to drown out the noises. As she did, she caught a glimpse of her arms. They were covered in burns, scabs, and scratches that oozed blood like those on the beast behind her. She stared at them in shock, and as she did, she saw her skin wriggle as if small worms were moving around under it. Then she felt them. She opened her mouth to scream, but her mouth had already been open and screaming.
Then she awoke.
When the Kingsguard burst into the room moments later, accompanied by Alicent, Helaena was huddling in a fetal position in the corner. She was shivering and covered in her own sick. Alicent ran to her and held her close, whispering soothing words between screaming for a maester. When the maesters came later in the night, they looked her over as she was being washed off. They could not find anything wrong with her and simply ruled the situation as a nightmare brought on by eating too much cake. That explanation satisfied most of the royal family, especially since Aegon had in the past been woken up from vomiting after overindulging in food and wine. But as the maesters left and the rest of her family returned to their chambers and the Kingsguard to their posts, even as Alicent dressed her in new pajamas and crawled up next to her in bed, she could not sleep, for she could not get the thoughts of the dragon, the screaming, and the ghostly woman from her mind.
Helaena did her best not to sleep the next few days. Late into the night, she would read or work on her tapestries. Whenever she felt her eyes closing and her body feeling weary, she would jump around and hit herself, and she would even prick her own fingers with her sewing needle. This worked for several nights, but Helaena could not escape sleep forever. The third night after her first dream, she found her eyes closing even when she tried everything she had tried the nights before. That night, the dreams returned.
And they would keep returning. They were not the same as the first, nor were they the same as each other. Her dreams would take her to many places, from the scorching sands of a desert to the ruins of a desolate castle to the middle of the ocean. Sometimes, she would die, from being swallowed by a massive wave to being pierced by a large arrow to missing a step and falling far to the ground below. Sometimes, she would watch others die, including those she knew. She had seen her mother and father slowly wither away to dust, her brothers slain over and over by faceless soldiers or swallowed by rats, and her half-sister Rhaenyra burning in flames. Other times, she would see those whose faces she did not know perish, old men blown away by storms and small children devoured by beasts. The woman from her first dream would return, observing her with her haunting eyes. Sometimes, she would scream Helaena awake; other times, she would simply watch and stare as Helaena experienced the rest of the dream. Sometimes, Helaena would call out to her, but in the haze of the dream, she could never recall what she said. Sometimes, she would be blessed with nights of peaceful, dreamless sleep, and other nights, the dreams would be kind and take her somewhere peaceful, like a sunny field or a calm lake. Eventually, like a prisoner adjusting to the bars of their cell, she got used to her dreams.
The night of her 11th nameday, Helaena experienced a rather funny feeling. The bakers had baked the most delicious cake and garnished it with an incredible amount of juicy fruits and fragrant nuts. Helaena couldn’t help herself and found that she had quickly scarfed down nearly seven portions alongside the rest of her nameday feast. Her full belly, with the warmth of the dining room and the music from the court musicians, quickly made her drowsy.
“Mother, I’m going to bed,” she said, yawning.
“You look tired. Let me help you,” Alicent offered. Helaena accepted, taking her mother’s hand. They walked by King Viserys, who reached out with a bandaged hand and feebly kissed Helaena’s cheek. “Sleep well, my daughter,” he said.
“Thank you, Father,” Helaena responded.
As they reached the exit, there was a loud crash and sudden commotion. Helaena turned and saw Aegon and Aemond rolling on the ground next to a spilled goblet of wine and a broken plate that had scattered its contents all over the floor.
“When…I’m…King…Wasting…my…wine…will be…treason!” Aegon panted, trying to pin down Aemond’s hands. Aemond simply spat in response, which caused Aegon to shout with anger, and the two continued to tumble around. Criston Cole ran to them and began trying to separate them.
Helaena heard Alicent sigh and then pulled her through the exit. Together they made their way up to Helaena’s room. Once they reached there, Alicent tucked Helaena in and kissed her goodnight. She then blew out the candles and left. As the door swung closed, Helaena was bathed in darkness, save for a sliver of moonlight slipping through the doors on her room’s window and coming to rest on an empty patch of the wall in front of her. Helaena sighed and wrapped herself in her blankets. Whatever dream she would dream tonight, she would at least be comfortable and protected when she awoke. She closed her eyes.
When she opened her eyes, she was still in her room. Helaena blinked. Was she dreaming? She must not have been. She closed her eyes and lay back down. When she opened her eyes, she was still in her room. Perhaps tonight would be another fortunate, peaceful night for her. As she was about to close her eyes, her gaze fell upon the single segment of the wall where the moonlight shone. But it was not the wall she saw. She saw a thin arm so white that it gleamed in the moonlight, wrapped in the cloth of a tattered white dress.
Her heart quickened as her muscles went rigid. Her eyes slowly traced the arm into the darkness, to its torso and up to its head. The woman’s face was hidden in the dark, but Helaena had encountered her so much in her dreams that against her own will, her mind recreated the woman’s horrifying skeletal face and haunting sunken eyes in her vision. Helaena exhaled but found that she could not inhale as she sat frozen on her bed. She waited for the woman to move. To scream. To rush at her.
But instead, the woman stood in her place in the dark. Her arm in the light moved and made a beckoning gesture. Helaena did not understand it at first, and she remained frozen. The woman beckoned again and then moved. Helaena traced its movements through the dark, its white skin and dress gleaming ever so faintly in the dark of her room as it stepped to her door and seemed to step through it and disappear.
Helaena didn’t know what to do. She wondered if she should go back to sleep. The ghost had gone away, and if she went back to bed, she would wake up in the morning with a restful night of peaceful dreams. However, her eyes remained fixed on the door where the woman had passed through. She wasn’t sure if it was her mind filling in the empty space again, but she thought she saw the woman’s hand beckon once more through the door.
Helaena slid off the bed, feeling her feet contacting the carpet on the floor. She still didn’t know if she was dreaming, but she didn’t care at this point. She moved to her bedroom door and creaked it open. Her heart skipped a beat when she looked down the hallway and saw the woman standing at the end of the hall, staring directly back at her. She was standing directly next to the door to Aegon’s room. Helaena pushed her door open wider, and the woman drifted through the door into Aegon’s room.
Helaena crept down the hallway to Aegon’s room. She paused when she reached his door and pressed her ear against it. She could only hear the noises of Aegon snoring loudly. She gingerly pushed open his door.
The prince’s room was the same size as hers, with mostly the same furniture and arrangements. It was much messier, with cushions and empty wine goblets strewn about the floor. Aegon himself lay on his bed, still in his royal clothes, with a strong stench of wine emanating from him. As Helaena pushed Aegon’s door wider open, she spotted the woman standing still near a lone column in the corner of the room. Helaena made eye contact with the woman, whose dull eyes gleamed faintly in their sockets. Her mouth seemed to move, and then she stepped backward into the column.
Not wanting to wake her brother, she tiptoed over to the column. When she reached it, she studied it, trying to figure out where the woman had gone. It was an old column with seemingly no proper structural purpose, given the room was the same design as hers and hers didn’t have a column. She stepped back and noticed that the top of the column, which was curved, didn’t even touch the ceiling. She realized that the column could be moved. She placed her hands on it and pushed. It barely budged. She pushed harder, grunting with effort, but still, the column did not yield.
She stepped back, panting and wondering how she might move it to follow the woman. From behind her, she heard Aegon let out a loud snore. She had an idea.
She moved to Aegon’s bed and began to shake him awake.
“Wuzzat?” he groaned as his eyes opened.
“Brother, I need your help,” she hissed at him.
“Helaena? What are you—” he began to say groggily before his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell back onto the bed and began to snore again. Helaena sighed. She spotted a goblet sitting on Aegon’s nightstand. She grabbed it and dumped its contents on Aegon.
“HUAHH,” he sputtered and sat up instantly. “What was that for!” he hissed.
“Shhh!” Helaena shushed. “I need your help, brother.”
“What is it?” he hissed again, quieter.
Helaena pointed to the column in the corner of the room. “I need you to help move that.”
“Are you mad? This is why you woke me up?” Aegon muttered, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
Helaena’s eyes were wide with urgency, her fingers clutching the fabric of his sleeve. “Please, brother, it’s important. I saw her again. The woman from my dreams. She led me here.”
Aegon sighed deeply, the frustration etched on his face. “The woman from your dreams,” he repeated, his voice dripping with skepticism. “Helaena, this is nonsense. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m tired.”
“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Just help me move the column.”
Aegon stared at her for a long moment, the irritation fading slightly from his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled.
Together, they approached the column. It stood tall and imposing, seemingly immovable. Aegon placed his hands on the cold stone, pushing with all his might. Helaena joined him, her smaller frame straining against the weight.
The column budged slightly but did not move far. Aegon groaned, his muscles straining. “This is impossible. We’ll never move it.”
“Try again,” Helaena urged. “There must be a way.”
They adjusted their grip, leveraging their combined strength. With a heave and a groan, the column shifted more noticeably this time. Stone grated against stone, and a faint gust of stale air escaped from behind it. Encouraged, they pushed harder. Slowly, the column moved aside, revealing a dark, narrow entrance.
Aegon and Helaena stared at the revealed passage, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. The air was cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of earth and mildew. Helaena’s eyes were wide with a mix of fear and determination as she gazed into the darkness.
“I have to follow her,” Helaena murmured, her voice trembling but resolute. Without waiting for a response, she began to climb down into the entrance, her movements slow and careful.
Aegon hesitated, his hand gripping the torch tightly. “Helaena, wait,” he called, his voice edged with concern. “We don’t know what’s down there.”
Helaena paused, looking back at him with a mixture of pleading and resolve. “Please, Aegon. I need to do this. I need to know.”
Aegon’s brow furrowed as he looked into his sister’s determined eyes. With a heavy sigh, he relented. “Alright.” He retrieved a torch from the hallway.
With that, Aegon climbed down after her, the torch casting long shadows on the narrow walls. The passageway was cramped, forcing them to move single file. The stone beneath their feet was uneven and slick, making their descent cautious and slow.
The enclosed stairs eventually ended and turned into a winding secret corridor, the air thick with the scent of old stone and mildew. The walls were cracked, water-stained, and had growths snaking over their surfaces that shimmered in the dampness. The corridor twisted and turned, each bend revealing another stretch of darkness.
Helaena moved with a strange sense of purpose, her steps sure and steady despite the uncertainty ahead. Aegon followed closely behind, his eyes darting around warily, the torchlight flickering and dancing on the walls.
“Where do you think this leads?” Aegon asked, his voice a hushed whisper in the stillness.
“I don’t know,” Helaena replied, her voice soft but unwavering.
They continued down the winding corridor, the silence around them broken only by the sound of their footsteps and the occasional drip of water from the ceiling. The air grew colder.
The narrow walls began to widen out, creating a broader passage that seemed to stretch endlessly before them. Their footsteps echoed softly, mingling with the muffled sounds of King's Landing above, which they could now hear.
Aegon glanced at Helaena. “Who is this woman you’re following?” he asked.
Helaena hesitated, her eyes fixed ahead. “She’s a woman from my dreams,” she replied softly, her words filled with a sense of reverence and fear.
“A woman from your dreams?” Aegon repeated, confusion etching his features. “Helaena, this is madness.”
Helaena did not answer. She kept walking.
Aegon sighed, shaking his head, but he kept walking. The torch in his hand casting their shadows across the ancient stone.
They continued down the widening corridor, the sounds of the city above them becoming more pronounced. The nighttime commotion of King’s Landing—distant shouts, the clatter of hooves on cobblestones, and the murmur of tavern-goers—filtered through the stone.
The tunnel seemed to stretch on endlessly, winding beneath the city like a serpent. The cold air bit at their skin, and the oppressive darkness weighed heavily on their spirits. The darkness seemed to close in around them, the torchlight barely penetrating the inky blackness. They had been creeping through the tunnel for what felt like hours, the passage never seeming to end.
“How much farther do you think this goes?” Aegon asked, his voice breaking the silence. “It feels like we’ve been walking forever.”
“I don’t know,” Helaena replied, her voice strained with fatigue. “But it’s too late to turn back now.”
The sounds of the city grew fainter as they delved deeper, replaced by an unsettling silence.
Aegon walked ahead, his eyes straining to make out any features in the gloom. Suddenly, he stumbled forward, his outstretched hands slamming into cold, unyielding stone. He let out a grunt of pain and surprise.
“Careful,” Helaena whispered, her voice echoing softly in the confined space.
Aegon rubbed his shoulder, wincing. “It’s a wall,” he said, frustration creeping into his tone. “We’ve hit a dead end.”
Helaena moved closer, her fingers brushing against the rough stone surface. Helaena’s fingers found something different—small, uneven indentations. She traced them upward, realizing they formed a pattern.
“Here,” she said, excitement tinging her voice. “There are footholds. We can climb.”
Aegon squinted, barely able to make out the faint outlines of the footholds in the dim light. “Are you sure?” he asked, doubt evident.
“Yes,” Helaena insisted. “Help me with the torch.”
Aegon held the torch steady, the flickering light illuminating the footholds. Carefully, Helaena placed her foot in the first one, her hands gripping the stone above. Slowly, she began to climb. Aegon followed. They ascended slowly, each step upward a test of balance and strength. The air grew colder and more stagnant as they climbed, the darkness pressing in on them from all sides.
At the top, Helaena reached a stone covering. She pressed against it, feeling the cold, rough texture under her palms. “There’s something here,” she whispered. “Help me push it aside.”
Aegon climbed up beside her, bracing himself against the wall. Together, they pushed against the stone covering, their combined strength gradually shifting it. With a final heave, the stone moved. Helaena and Aegon climbed up through the opening.
Except when they climbed up and looked around, they found themselves in yet another enclosed space, only this one was more cavernous in appearance and larger. The light of their singular torch glinted off the jagged and rough surfaces of the rocky growths surrounding them before vanishing into the darkness beyond. A distant rumble echoed through the cavernous walls, and Helaena felt a gust of warm air blow into her face.
Helaena felt Aegon tense up next to her.
“I know where we are,” Aegon said, dread emanating from his voice. “We’re in the dragonpit.”
Helaena felt as if her blood had frozen, and her heart began thumping in her chest.
“We need to turn back. Or else we’re dead,” Aegon hissed and began to turn back to the hole they had climbed out of.
But before he could take more than a step, Helaena’s gasp stopped him.
“There she is!” Helaena whispered, her eyes wide and fixed on a shadowy figure at the edge of the torchlight.
Aegon squinted, barely able to make out the ghostly woman Helaena had described. She stood still for a moment, her white dress billowing slightly as if caught in an unseen breeze. Then, without a sound, she turned and moved deeper into the cavern.
“I can’t see anyth- Helaena, no!” Aegon called out as his sister darted after the apparition.
“Helaena, come back!” Aegon’s voice echoed through the cavern, mingling with the distant rumbles that signaled the presence of the dragons. But Helaena was beyond hearing, her entire being focused on chasing the ghostly woman. She could hear Aegon following her. The light of his torch flickered wildly as he ran, casting eerie shadows on the jagged walls around them. The sounds of the dragonpit grew louder, the low growls and shifting of massive bodies echoing through the labyrinthine caves.
Helaena paid no heed to her brother. She moved with a purpose, her eyes locked on the spectral figure ahead. The woman glided effortlessly through the dark, her form barely visible but unwavering. Helaena’s steps quickened, her breath coming in short, urgent gasps. She felt her chest and legs burn from the effort, but her mind was entranced, singularly focused on the ghostly woman who continued to lead her deeper into the dragonpit.
Then, her dress caught on a stone. Helaena heard the sound of ripping fabric and felt the hem of her dress catch and tear, launching her forward. She struck the ground, the sharp stony surface digging into her legs and hands. She felt blood on her skin.
“Helaena, are you alright?” Aegon asked, finally managing to catch up to her.
Before Helaena could answer, the sound of a dragon’s roar rumbled through the cavern, only this time it wasn’t an echo. Before Aegon and Helaena could even react, they heard the noise of the dragon rumbling, the noises growing louder, indicating the dragon getting closer. Helaena tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t respond. Aegon’s grip was frozen around her arm, and he too was unmoving as the thundering only grew closer and louder.
A black mass appeared in the dark ahead of them and began to rapidly approach them, its proximity now causing its rumbling to shake the earth beneath them. Helaena opened her mouth to scream just as the dragon emerged into the torchlight. As it did, Helaena saw the glint of gold.
“Sunfyre!” Aegon cried out with relief. “Don’t frighten me like that.”
The dragon emerged fully into the torchlight, and Helaena saw the golden scales and pink wings of her brother’s dragon. Even in the faint glow of the torchlight, its scales glittered like stars embedded into the dragon’s dark mass itself. Upon hearing Aegon’s voice, it emitted a low rumbling draconic purr that almost sounded musical to Helaena and lowered its head to focus its eyes on its master.
Relieved that she was not about to be killed by a dragon, Helaena managed to get to her feet, feeling her torn nightgown swing around her legs and blood drip down her hands and legs.
“I didn’t bring you anything,” She could Aegon say to Sunfyre. “This was unexpected—”
But Helaena did not hear the rest of what Aegon was saying, for she was once again moving towards where she had last seen the woman. The cavern widened around her, and got darker as Helaena moved away from the light of her brother’s torch. Her focus was singular, her steps guided by an invisible force.
She entered an open chamber, her breath catching in her throat as she beheld the sight before her. The chamber was large, and it appeared to be a small crack in the stone ceiling through which the barest sliver of light filtered through. In the center was the ghostly woman, now facing away from Helaena. Instead, she stood still and gazed in front of her, where the massive mass of another dragon lay.
The dragon was slender and elegant, her scales a shimmering pale blue with intricate silver markings that glinted like moonlight. Her silver crests framed her head, and her pale blue wings were folded delicately against her sides. The dragon lay in a deep slumber, its breaths slow and rhythmic, a soft silver glow emanating from its scales.
Helaena’s heart pounded with a mix of awe and trepidation. She stepped forward cautiously, her eyes never leaving the magnificent beast. She approached the ghostly woman, who stood silently, her presence almost ethereal.
As Helaena drew closer, she noticed the woman's shoulders shaking slightly. The ghostly woman was crying. She reached out and placed a translucent hand on the dragon’s flank, a gesture that seemed to Helaena to be filled with sorrow and longing. The ghostly woman turned slightly, her sorrowful eyes meeting Helaena’s. There was a depth of emotion in those eyes, a lifetime of love, loss, and longing.
With a deep breath, Helaena stepped forward, her hand trembling as she reached out. She placed her hand on the dragon’s warm, smooth scales, the contact sending a shiver through her body. The dragon stirred slightly, a soft rumble resonating through the chamber. Helaena felt a rush of emotions—fear, awe, and an overwhelming sense of connection. The bond was forming, an ancient magic binding rider to dragon. She had heard talk of this bond for so long, from her brother, from her half-sister Rhaenyra, from her great-uncle Daemon. Now she was experiencing it herself. The dragon’s eyes fluttered open, revealing luminous blue orbs that locked onto Helaena’s gaze.
“Dreamfyre,” Helaena whispered, the name rolling off her mouth with the familiarity as that of her mother. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Helaena felt the weight of her ancestors’ legacy, the power of the dragon, and the strength of the bond that now connected her to Dreamfyre. She knew, deep in her heart, that this was where she was meant to be. The dragon responded to its name with a low, melodic rumble, a sound that spoke of acceptance and recognition.
Helaena turned, her breath catching as she beheld the ghostly woman transforming before her eyes. The sorrow and translucence melted away, revealing a revitalized healthy woman, resplendent in her beauty. Her lilac eyes sparkled with a warmth and wisdom that seemed to pierce through time, and her platinum-colored hair cascaded around her shoulders in silken waves, shimmering like molten silver. Her once spectral form now radiated life and strength, the ethereal glow enhancing her regal presence. Her elegant features, now seemingly unmarred by the passage of centuries, exuded a timeless grace that left Helaena in awe, somehow feeling both honored and humbled in the woman’s presence.
“My dear Helaena,” the woman said. “It is good to finally meet you.”
Helaena stared at the woman, and as she took in the woman’s appearance, a name floated to the front of her mind. It was a name that she had heard before when her septa would teach her about her lineage, but would quickly be moved on from. It was a name that Viserys, Rhaenyra, nor any of her other royal relatives would ever mention to her, even when the topic of their ancestors was broached.
Helaena spoke the name.
“Rhaena Targaryen.”
The woman smiled, etching creases into her pristine face. Her eyes, now fully restored, still brimmed with a sadness that seemed to transcend time.
“Why…” Helaena began to ask, but her voice trailed off as her mind tried to figure out which question to ask first. Why did she lead her here? Why did she come to Helaena? Why did she give her nightmares?
Rhaena turned towards Dreamfyre, whose deep blue eyes now turned to where Rhaena was, as if she could see her as well.
“I’m sorry if I frightened you before,” Rhaena said. “Life was not kind to me, and Death came to me last only after I had lost all those that I loved. In truth, I had so much pain that I could do nothing but cling onto desperately, and when I saw you in your dreams, I could not hold it in any longer.”
Dreamfyre let out a low, mournful purr in response.
“Death is coming again. And you must protect those you love. Your family. Your brothers. Your children. In the way that I could not for mine,” Rhaena said. As she did, glimmers of tears shone in her eyes and fell onto the stones at their feet.
“My…children?” Helaena asked. She realized that the thought had never actually crossed her mind before.
Rhaena nodded.
“What should I do then?” Helaena asked, disturbed by the revelations.
Rhaena turned towards Dreamfyre. “She is yours now. She will be your closest companion, and she will never betray you. She is a mother, like me, and like you will be. She will accompany you in your grief, and in your rage, she will unleash a fury that can match the Black Dread himself.”
Rhaena turned to look back at Helaena. Helaena didn’t say anything more. For she knew what she had to do next. She turned to Dreamfyre. Dreamfyre, seemingly sensing her intention, rose and shifted its body to the side and lowered its wings, creating a platform for Helaena to climb onto its back and hold onto its horns.
Helaena climbed onto Dreamfyre’s back, her hands gripping the dragon’s horns. She could feel the immense power thrumming beneath Dreamfyre’s scales, a raw and ancient energy that surged through her own veins. The connection between them was electric, a bond forged in fire and destiny. As Dreamfyre rose, Helaena braced herself, her heart pounding with anticipation and fear.
With a powerful leap, Dreamfyre launched herself upward, her wings unfurling with a majestic sweep. The dragon’s muscles tensed and then released in a burst of strength, propelling them toward the cavernous ceiling. Helaena held on tightly, her breath catching as Dreamfyre smashed through the rock above them, shards of stone raining down around them. The roar of the dragon echoed through the night as they burst into the open air, the cool wind whipping around them.
For a moment, they hovered, the world spread out below them. The stars sparkled like diamonds in the sky, and the moon cast a silvery glow over King’s Landing. Helaena felt an overwhelming sense of freedom and exhilaration. Despite having never ridden a dragon before, she found that she didn’t fear falling at all and that Dreamfyre seemed to respond to her own thoughts, shifting itself to keep her safe and moving however she wanted. She was no longer bound by fear or uncertainty; she was a dragonrider, a Targaryen, with the power of Dreamfyre with her.
Dreamfyre let out a triumphant roar, and Helaena joined in, her joyous voice mingling with the dragon’s. They soared higher into the night, the city below shrinking into a tapestry of lights and shadows and burst through the canopy of clouds above.
A roar sounded from behind them, and Helaena whipped her head around just as another dragon emerged from the clouds behind them, scales glimmering golden even in the pale moonlight.
“Excellent, Sister!” Aegon shouted from atop Sunfyre’s back. “That’s a fine dragon you’ve claimed for yourself, but it’s still not better than mine!” Sunfyre let out a resonant musical roar, more aggressive than Dreamfyre’s own melodic roars. With a great flap of its pale-pink wings, it pulled ahead and proceeded to perform several dramatic maneuvers in the air ahead.
Helaena looked down at Dreamfyre’s head, which turned its own head slightly to meet her gaze. Helaena sighed, then laughed. Dreamfyre roared in response, flapped its own wings, and continued its undisturbed flight.
The two dragons continued to fly over the sky of King’s Landing. As they closed in on the Red Keep, they could see the dark rooms suddenly turning bright and people running around on the bannisters and turrets. Undoubtedly, the sight of two dragons suddenly flying around the skies of King’s Landing would have raised some alarm, as would the subsequent realization that the royal prince and princess were missing from their quarters. Aegon appeared to have realized this too, and he signaled to Helaena. Together they descended their dragons to the topmost wall of the Red Keep. As the dragons landed and Helaena and Aegon slid off their dragons onto the wall’s stone walkway.
“Mother will be furious,” Aegon laughed, playfully bumping Helaena’s shoulder.
“I imagine she won’t be the only one,” Helaena muttered, still exhilarated from her ride.
The doors on the other end of the walkway flew open, and a group of guards led by two in Kingsguard uniforms ran towards them to receive them.
Helaena turned back to look at Dreamfyre. The dragon remained atop the wall alongside its golden counterpart. Atop it, Helaena saw Rhaena sitting, her white dress now replaced by a sleek purple and black dragonriding outfit. Rhaena nodded to her, and Dreamfyre raised its body up. Together, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre took off into the air and flew far away into the night sky.