COMPANION

When all the flowers surround me to sprinkle honey

In the icy expanse of the North, three siblings grew up in the shadow of Winterfell's walls. Jon, Daemon, and Helena Snow, born of a secret Targaryen lineage, were inseparable, yet each carried a unique destiny. Jon was the stoic and honorable leader, Daemon the intense and fiercely protective brother, and Helena, the delicate, gorgeous, skittish, and shy sister who was the center of Daemon's obsession.

Daemon's love for Helena transcended mere sibling affection; it was an all-consuming fire that bordered on madness. He was always near her, his presence like a shadow she could never escape. His eyes never left her, and his touch, though gentle, felt like a shackle. Helena, sweet yet intelligent, was often overwhelmed by Daemon's intensity, seeking refuge in the quiet corners of Winterfell, yet he always found her.

One fateful night, as a storm raged outside, Daemon's desire to protect his sister manifested in an ancient spell he had discovered in the depths of the crypts. He whispered incantations, not knowing the full extent of their power. The world around them twisted and darkened, and when the winds settled, they found themselves not in the cold of the North, but in the past—during the tumultuous era of the Dance of Dragons.

Helena eyed warily as they stood in the great hall of Red Keep, the firelight reflecting in her wide, suspiscious eyes. The Targaryens and Velaryons, noble and fierce, regarded the strangers with suspicion and curiosity. Among them were Rhaenyra Targaryen and Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince, whose own fiery love and ambition were legendary.

"Who are these intruders?" demanded Rhaenyra, her voice commanding.

Before Helena could muster a response, Daemon Snow stepped forward, his grip on her arm tightening. "I am Daemon Snow, and this is my sister, Helena. We have come from a time yet to come, seeking refuge and purpose."

The Rogue Prince's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized them. "Snow, you say? Bastards of the North?"

"Yes," Daemon replied, his tone defiant. "But our blood is not merely of the North. We carry the blood of the dragon."

The hall erupted in murmurs. Helena's eyes darted around, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel Daemon's possessive gaze on her, his need to protect her from these strangers palpable.

Over the following days, the court at Red Keep observed the newcomers with keen interest. It was not long before they noticed Daemon's peculiar behavior towards Helena. He was always at her side, his eyes burning with an intensity that unsettled even the hardened warriors of the court. He would crowd her, his body a barrier against anyone who approached too closely, his words a constant reassurance that she was safe as long as he was near.

Rhaenyra, intrigued and somewhat disturbed by their dynamic, spoke with Helena privately. "Your brother, his love for you is... intense," she remarked gently.

Helena nodded, her eyes distant. "He has always been this way. He believes it is his duty to protect me, but sometimes it feels like a cage."

The Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen, also took notice. He approached Daemon Snow one evening as the latter stood watch over his sister. "Your protectiveness is commendable," he said, his tone neutral, "but it borders on obsession."

Daemon Snow's eyes flashed with anger. "You do not understand. Helena is everything to me. I would die for her."

"Would she live for herself?" the Rogue Prince countered, his words striking a nerve.

As the days turned into weeks, the court could not ignore the tension between the siblings. Daemon Snow's obsessive tendencies became a source of gossip and concern. The Targaryens and Velaryons, who were no strangers to intense emotions and fierce loyalties, watched as Helena struggled under the weight of her brother's obsession.

It was a dance of dragons indeed, not of fire and blood, but of love and madness. In this ancient time of war and ambition, Helena and Daemon Snow found themselves entangled not just in the political machinations of the Targaryens, but in a battle for Helena's freedom and identity. The question lingered in the air: could Helena ever break free from her brother's obsessive love, or was she destined to remain ensnared in his relentless grip, a delicate flower caught in the storm of a dragon's passion?

Little did they know that the one they deemed delicate rode the Night Wyrm, back home and was feared the most in the world, both for her own power and that over her brother's.