Labour | Helaena Targaryen

02

The days following the wedding were a blur of silent tension and quiet companionship. Helaena, once given to cryptic murmurs and soft riddles, had grown even more withdrawn. She spent most of her time wandering the halls of the Red Keep, her eyes distant, her mind seemingly adrift in a world that only she could see. And wherever she went, Tiyana followed, a silent shadow that never strayed far from the princess's side.

Tiyana didn't need words to understand that Helaena was struggling. The weight of her new reality, the forced intimacy with Aegon, had drawn her further into herself, and Tiyana's heart ached with the knowledge that there was little she could do to help. All she could offer was her presence, her quiet support as Helaena moved through the days in a kind of trance.

This morning had been no different. Helaena had risen early, her hair still a tangled mess, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She didn't speak as she dressed, didn't respond to Tiyana's gentle offers of assistance. Instead, she simply began to walk, leaving her chambers and drifting through the corridors of the castle like a wraith. Tiyana followed her, her footsteps light and careful, always a few paces behind.

The sun had barely risen, casting long shadows across the stone floors as Helaena led them through the winding passageways. She didn't seem to have a destination in mind, her movements aimless and unhurried. Tiyana watched her closely, her concern growing with each passing minute. Helaena's silence was different today—deeper, more profound. It was as if the princess were walking through a dream, disconnected from the world around her.

Tiyana said nothing, allowing Helaena to lead them wherever her feet took her. The halls were empty at this hour, the usual bustle of the Red Keep subdued in the early morning light. It was a strange, almost eerie calm, the silence only broken by the soft rustle of Helaena's gown as she walked.

They passed through the courtyard, the gardens, and the lesser-used corridors of the castle, each step taking them farther from the heart of the Keep. Tiyana followed without question, though a small knot of unease began to form in her stomach. Helaena had never led her this far from the familiar parts of the castle before, and Tiyana couldn't shake the feeling that they were heading somewhere significant, even if Helaena herself didn't realize it.

It wasn't until they emerged from the shadow of the Keep's walls that Tiyana began to understand where Helaena was leading them. The Dragonpit loomed ahead, its dark, imposing structure perched on the edge of the city like a sentinel. The sight of it made Tiyana's heart skip a beat, her steps faltering for the first time since they had started walking.

The Dragonpit was a place of legend, a structure that held the might of House Targaryen within its stone walls. It was where the dragons were kept, where the great beasts that had conquered the Seven Kingdoms rested and waited. Tiyana had never been inside, had never even come close to it. She was no dragonrider, no Targaryen. The thought of entering that place, of standing in the presence of dragons, filled her with a mixture of awe and terror.

Helaena, however, seemed completely unfazed. She continued forward, her pace unchanged, as if she were merely taking a stroll through the gardens. It was only when she reached the entrance to the Dragonpit that she noticed Tiyana had stopped.

Tiyana stood frozen a few paces behind, her eyes wide as she stared at the dark archway that led into the Dragonpit. Her heart pounded in her chest, her palms suddenly damp with sweat. She couldn't do this. She didn't belong here.

Helaena turned, her expression unreadable as she looked back at Tiyana. There was no impatience in her gaze, only a quiet curiosity, as if she were waiting for Tiyana to join her. But Tiyana couldn't move. The words tumbled out before she could stop them, a whisper in the still morning air.