green lies, black hearts

XLII

a/n ~ hi everyone, I'm so so sorry about the delay. as most of y'all know, my partner and I moved states, and it's been a lot of settling in and trying to get jobs figured out, and many know I struggled with unemployment for the last year and a half due to disability and general bad economy and surviving by the skin of my teeth, but happy to say I've finally landed a new job :) I get to work with books all day, which is so so fun! finally putting my masters degree to work lol <3
anyway, struggled a bit trying to write this while also working on some other stuff, and just general depression. My chronic illnesses have been flaring a lot, and when you're too poor to see a doc sometimes, it can suck! esp when your insurance is denying your meds haha, yay! sorry, super self deprecating there, but things have mostly been sorted, which is why I was able to update finally. Still waiting on doctor stuff, but at least my chemo and injections are settled (truly the most important things).

Do forgive me for the delay, and for any errors in this chapter. I'm updating at 6am my time rn cause I just wanted to get this to y'all after editing for like 3 days straight and moving some POVs around. This chapter is A LOT of major set up, and next chapter will prob be similar. I'm gonna try to get that next one out within 2 weeks? Tentatively! We'll see with me settling into this job!

anyway, y'all want the chapter hehe, so without further ado!! also pls mind some purposeful contradictions this chapter! hypocrisy and all that deliciousness! regret is starting to run deep!!

- mint

~+~

Helaena

Helaena's dreams were unkind. They always had been. She knew they were glimpses into futures she did not wish to see. Futures she knew would come to pass. At least, they had been thus far.

But she had not seen this. She never could have dreamt of this.

Gold melts. Smoke dies. Blood stains, and only the green of envy rises.

She had dreamt of that when Aegon left. When he stormed through his chambers, ignoring Jaehaera and Maelor's pleas for their father's affections. Helaena had watched as he donned the Conqueror's armor and placed the ruby crown upon his brow, and she had smelt the wine heavy on his breath when he stopped beside her and kissed her softly on the cheek. Softer than he ever had before. He had claimed he would make her and their mother proud. He would be a king.

(Helaena knew this was no dream of a Conqueror her Aegon clung to—it was a fool's.)

And just as they all did eventually, she knew her dream came to fruition when it was Aemond upon King's Landing atop Vhagar's scarred, green body, with no golden Sunfyre for any to see. Only, she did not understand how it was that she had not seen her brother taking his... their niece to prisoner. How was it that she missed that of all things? How was it that the Old Gods—for this was no work of the Seven, this was that of the Fourteen Flames of Old Valyria—had deemed it unnecessary for her, of all people, to know?

Aemond had rode on horseback through the King's Gate of the Red Keep, a proud smile on his face, and Shaera secured against his chest and wrapped in his arms. Helaena watched with their mother as Aemond crossed the tilt yard; as he slid off of the horse's back; as he ever so gently peeled a limp Shaera out of the saddle and returned her back to his embrace. Helaena heard their mother's quiet gasp, that sharp intake of breath as she placed a hand to her stomach. Out of nausea? Perhaps. Helaena knew well her mother's weak constitution when it came to a harmed woman. It was one of the few things they shared. That and their grief.

(And the knives that had been held to their throats before a babe was beheaded.)

As Aemond approached, Helaena's face twisted with concern, her eyes narrowing on the neglect that had befallen sweet Shaera. Wounds were purulent along her head and wrists and feet, and blood soaked through her clothing, staining it a rusty brown. Nausea bubbled in the back of her throat, and all she could think about was Jaehaerys. All she could imagine was the bloody stump of his neck, and the lifeless head that had rolled about, purple eyes forever open in terror. And now there was her own flesh and blood again, wounded and half dead.