Chapter Text
When Helaena and Jacaerys' dance concluded, her eyes found their way to the fire in the stone hearth. The fire burned brighter, spitting sparks from the coals and sending out lashing flares. Helaena found the sight captivating, her body rooted to the stone tiles. And when she looked, really looked, Helaena could see the truth. The truth of her dreams, of the melody the world sings, of all the death and fire that is yet to come. The last ring has found its legs. It fills her veins with fire, rushing through her body. For an agonizing second, Helaena thinks that she has been caught within an inferno, bathing the room in an incandescent light. The sudden blaze disappears, leaving Helaena with weak knees and a chill that runs through her arms towards her very heart. She chances a glance towards her brother-husband. Aegon is lost in his cups, yet again, gripping the silver goblet so tightly that his knuckles have turned bloodlessly white. He does not look towards her, he has not since they stood in the sept beneath the eyes of the Seven. Helaena looks back towards the fire, no longer an angry, spitting thing. Her hands find their way to rest over her stomach, fingers pressing and digging into an empty womb.
It will not be empty for long, Helaena thinks. Her and Aegon have yet to consummate their marriage, but their mother and grandsire grow impatient. Only a matter of time…
She knows what will come when her womb grows heavy with child- children, she corrects herself. Helaena looks towards the window. The skys are clear and the moon is bright. The sight is lovely and Helaena wishes that she could stand under the night sky and feel the breeze on her face. She cannot, not whilst they still dine with her family for the sake of her ailing father. Still, the thought calms her, a balm to the memory of fire. Helaena thinks of the horrors to come. There is no place for her when the dragons dance, not Helaena who has no appetite for blood and retribution unlike Aemond. There is no place for her, nor her children yet to come. It should stay that way, rings through Helaena's mind like the heavy chiming of bells as she makes her way to the window. When she reaches the alcove bathed only in moonlight, she presses her hand flat against the windowpane. She holds it there for a moment and thinks of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera and Maelor who need not be dragged into this world just to die bloody and alone. She thinks of rats and dead dragons and unrelenting mobs and knows, intrinsically, that she will never know peace. Her children, yet to be born, will never know peace, not unless she makes it. Helaena opens the window.
Alicent's eyes drift over towards Helaena and away from the raucous table, accustomed to always looking after her melancholic and eccentric daughter. The Seven knows that she is the only one to do so. Alicent finds Helaena at an open window. Alone, as is her custom. Her eyebrows furrow with the weight of a mother's constant worry and Alicent feels something sink to her stomach like a heavy stone. Helaena moves closer to the window and Alicent knows. She shoots to her feet, her chair falling over in her panic to get to her daughter. "Helaena!" she cries, the room unmoving in confusion. But Helaena is faster than Alicent. Alicent's heart beats rapidly and painfully, her ears deaf to everything else in the room.
"Stop her! Helaena, please stop!" Alicent's arms outstretched and her legs suddenly leaden, she feels as though she is running through water, unable to reach her daughter, her only daughter.
In the end, it is Jacaerys who grabs her. Jacaerys who never returned to his seat, waiting on Helaena. Jacaerys, Rhaenrya's son, grabs Helaena and holds her bodily. Helaena struggles hard for a single, brash moment, reaching for the ledge like a fish flailing towards water, until Jacaerys overpowers her and holds her still. Then, as suddenly as he had grabbed her, Helaena lets her body fall limp and weary as Jacaerys struggles with the sudden slackness. She holds herself still as Jacaerys lowers her to the tiled floor. Alicent reaches her then, her fingers grasping Helaena tightly as tears run down her face. Her touch is biting but Helaena does not squirm. She sits still as her mother screams herself hoarse, barking orders at the room, forcing them into motion. Her mother drags Helaena into her arms, nearly shoving Prince Jacaerys to the ground in her desperation. Alicent holds her daughter, chest heaving and heart aching, pressing her sodden face into her daughter's hair.
"Viserys," she calls, her voice rough and watery, "this dinner has come to an end. Let us retire to our chambers, Helaena needs her rest." Alicent presses her lips to the crown of her daughter's head, letting herself linger there as her eyes flutter shut.
"No," Viserys answers with his feeble authority as king and father and husband, "you are amongst family, Alicent. Come back to your seats and rest a moment here."
"Please, Viserys. I am her mother, I implore you to see reason here! Helaena almost fell from the window-"
"Fell? Your girl tried to fling herself through the window," Daemon snorted nastily. "Perhaps she wanted to fly?" he sneered, taunting Alicent. In turn, Alicent let her fingers fold into Helaena's hair and press her closer to her chest as she grit her teeth and swallowed down the nausea from the thought of Helaena choosing to end her own life. She forced the thought down. Helaena wouldn't do that, she would not jump. Helaena is a clumsy girl, with her head halfway through the clouds. Yes…that's all. An accident is the whole of it, how dare Daemon, of all people, accuse otherwise! Helaena could nearly taste the way her mother's fear gave way to the copper twang of righteous indignation. But she let her mother hold her and kept further still.
"Daemon-," "That's enough-," Viserys and Rhaenyra started at once in reprimand, though Viserys' tone was heavier with resignation. Rhaenyra's eyes burned with contempt for her uncle, never one to forget the man's proclivities for provocations taken too far. A glance towards her father and Rhaenyra knew her father's strength had ebbed from him yet again.
"Alicent, perhaps it is best to give Helaena some time before having her endure the journey towards her chambers," Rhaenyra spoke softly, half-raised out of her seat as if making to help Alicent, of all people.
Alicent scoffed, "You presume to tell me what is best for my daughter? I'll not take advice from a woman who can barely keep her own household in line, princess," her mouth set in a derisive sneer. Rhaenyra's mouth set in a hard line and she sat back down, rubbing her hand in small, soothing circles on her pregnant belly. She met Daemon's gaze, his eyes bright and dancing as though he had won some great, satisfying victory over her. "Viserys, your daughter needs rest. This room is unsuitable for such purposes. It is cramped and filled with far too many people. Helaena would like to be alone in her own chambers."
"I said no, Alicent," Viserys sighed wearily, looking far more poorly than he did at the beginning of the night. When he breathed, it was like watching an open sore ooze sluggish and green. "Family is the greatest remedy. Would you deny a dying man, your lord-husband, his final wish to see them all together for the last time?"
"Do not speak like this, Viserys. You tempt the gods with your words and invite the Stranger to your door," Alicent exhaled and pressing the firm set of her mouth to Helaena's head one last time, knowing that she could not win against Viserys' mulishness. Alicent pulled her head back to gaze at her daughter, "Can you stand, Helaena?" she asked soft and gentle, her hand moving to cradle Helaena's arm.
Helaena did not meet her mother's heavy, anxious gaze, "I can stand," she said in a faint, subdued breath. She pulled her arm away once she had pushed herself off the cold, hard floor. Her mother followed her to her seat, forcing Aegon from his so that she may fret over her daughter close at hand. Jacaerys, who had been standing to the side awkwardly and forgotten in Alicent's panic, finally returned to his seat. His face was set in a frown, eyebrows furrowed and fists clenched at his sides. He watched Helaena return to her seat, her body stiffly-held while her mother attempted to soothe her. Alicent placed her hand over Helaena's and rubbed her thumb in tender circles at the bony jut of her wrists. To Helaena, the motion was grounding but achingly painful. She did not want her mother to touch her or hold her, but she accepted it. For her mother's sake.
"My daughter," Viserys wheezed from across the table, his head lolling vaguely in her direction. Helaena knew that he was addressing her because with Rhaenyra, Viserys always called for his "dear daughter," "beloved daughter," or "precious daughter." With Helaena, it was fact over affections. Helaena lifted her gaze to meet the decaying face of her father, his golden mask reflecting a sickly warmth back onto his own face. "Are you…," he took another shaky breath before continuing, "Is your heart so heavy that you would seek to end the life given to you by the gods? To violate an inviolable gift? Do you find yourself so miserable, daughter?"