Chapter Text
No word from Luke or any of the Velaryons. As she suspected, Luke probably told them all about her quote on “betrayal,” and now they all hate her. Great. Love it. If she had the energy to spare, she’d be pissed about this entire misunderstanding, but Elyse was running on fumes.
Even Helaena gasped in fright when she crawled to the nursery for a visit. “My heavens! What happened to you?” The princess cried. “Dyanna, bring tea and the remaining lemon cakes from my room!” Elyse didn’t have an ounce of strength left in her to protest as the princess practically carried her to the chaise and forced her to lie down. “Are you ill? Why are you so pale?”
“No, Your Highness. I just…need…a quick break.”
The princess fussed over her like a mother hen, shoving nibbles of sweets into her mouth and wiping her forehead with a handkerchief. “Is this because of my name day banquet? I should have known Mother would go overboard with the preparations.” Elyse shook her head. She tried to tell Helaena that this was not her fault by any means, but Helaena halted her by pressing the rim of a teacup to her lips. “Drink. It is rose tea from Braavos.”
Ugh. She hated roses. But she couldn’t refuse. So Elyse took the tiniest sip and smiled. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Helaena set the cup aside, then raised her worried eyes. “Is this why our nightly gatherings have been canceled? Because you have been unwell?” The princess looked down at her lap and picked at the embroidery on her dove grey dress. “I…have not gotten an invitation recently, and I thought something must have happened.”
Elyse turned her face inwards and lied. “Y-Yeah, it’s just because…um, I’m not feeling well.”
“ELY! ELY! ELY!”
Helaena made a disgruntled noise when Elyse shifted her body to a sitting position and peered over the chaise at the two cribs pushed against the wall. Jaehaerys was soundly asleep, but his twin sister held onto the edge of her crib with her tiny hands, using it as leverage to stand up and stare at Elyse with her cornflower blue eyes. She smiled weakly, “Yes, my little princess?”
“ELY STOWY! ELY STOWY!” Jaehaera was only seven months old, but the baby princess was already standing and speaking easy words. Targaryens ----- truly superior to the masses in every freaking way. “STOWY! STOWY!”
“My sweet, I will tell you a story later. Elyse is not feeling well.” Helaena cooed, but Jaehaera, the more spirited child of her twins, scrunched her nose and started banging her fists against the crib. Cheeks ruddy. Lips pouted. You didn’t need a lot of child-rearing experience to sense the incoming tantrum.
“It’s fine.” Elyse informed Helaena. She struggled to her feet and walked over to the crib, slightly swaying, and poked Jaehaera in the cheek. “I will tell you a story, you little tot. How about a princess story?”
Tantrum forgotten, Jaehaera bounced up and down, shouting, “PWIN! PWIN!”
“Ok, ok.” Elyse chuckled. “Princess story, got it.”
“My apologies, Elyse. I meant for you to rest here, but Jaehaera can be so stubborn.” Helaena sighed.
“Don’t apologize, Your Highness. It’s my pleasure.” And it was. She loved the twins. It’s why she was trying her best to avoid them. Seeing their pinchable cheeks and hearing their delighted squeals would only remind her of the future war and the despair that will consume Helaena after she loses a child. Which child? Jaehaera, or Jaehaerys? How did Helaena die? Was she killed? Or did she -----
Nope. Stop it. Not now. Elsye shoved the bad thoughts to the back of her mind and refocused on the baby princess waiting for her story. “Ahem. Are you ready? So, a long time ago, in a land far away, there was a queen who wished for a daughter with skin white as snow and hair as dark as night…”
Sunlight shone into the nursery through the massive windows, brightening the atmosphere as Elyse told the story to her eager audience. Helaena took up her embroidery again, sitting on the chaise with a contented smile on her lovely face. Dyanna, who returned with a tray full of food, also quietly listened to Elyse’s voice as she fussed over rearranging the flower arrangements. It was a rare moment of peace.
When Snow White finally rode into the sunset on the back of the prince’s horse, Elyse finished the story with the mandatory, “...and they lived happily ever after.”
“Oh, what a romantic story. To think he awoke her with a kiss.” Dyanna murmured with a dreamy look in her eyes. “You always tell such lovely stories, Elyse.”
“Yes…” Helaena sighed, head in her hands, her embroidery long forgotten by the time the Evil Queen handed Snow White the apple, “and the ending is so wonderful. ‘Happily ever after’. What a lovely phrase.”
You could say that again. Elyse brushed her hand over Jaehaera’s cheek, eliciting a delighted giggle from the baby princess. Her gut churned painfully at the innocent, gaily laugh. Happily ever after ----- why couldn’t she have landed in a story that ended with those words? Was she sent here as some twisted divine punishment to see these characters, who were so much more than words on paper, suffer through tragedy after tragedy, knowing that she couldn’t save them?
Dyanna was gone again, off to prepare a fresh bath for the twins, which gave Elyse the perfect opportunity to ask Helaena the question that weighed on her heart. “Your Highness?”
“Hmm?”
“May I…ask you a question?”
Helaena set down her needle and smiled, “Of course.”
One hand clasped on the crib for support, Elyse met Helaena’s gaze, heart pounding wildly. The question fell out of her mouth before she had a chance to reconsider. “How did your brother lose his eye?”
The afternoon sun glazed Helaena’s silhouette, basking her in warmth. Tendrils of her silver hair danced in the faint breeze as she stared at Elyse. What was the expression on Helaena’s face? Sadness? Anger? A combination of both? Elyse swallowed, anxious that she overstepped and accidentally offended the princess, but after what felt like an eternity, Helaena finally answered with a weary smile.
“Though I am glad you are finally asking the right questions, it is not my story to tell.” Helaena rose to her feet and crossed the room, joining Elyse by the cribs. There was a deep melancholy in her cornflower blue eyes as she smoothed Jaehaerys’ pale curls. “I was not there that night, you see. It would be best to hear the story from someone present.”
But I can’t. The Velaryons aren’t speaking to me, and Aemond would one hundred percent kill me on the spot if I asked him.
“Are you worried that the dragons will dance?”
Huh?
Elyse blinked. Did she hear her correctly? Dragons…dance? “I’m sorry, what?”
The princess lightly caressed her children’s faces with an aching tenderness. “Sometimes, she falls. Sometimes, she does not. It is strange. It wavers. The threads are intertwined, that is certain. But now…it is tangled.” Frowning, Helaena refocused on Elyse, as if she was expected to know what she meant. “I cannot unravel the knot.”
“Um…uh…” What was she supposed to say? Helaena’s words, though cryptic, chilled her to the bone. Urgh! There’s that blinding headache again. Elyse pressed her hand to her forehead and tried to will away the pain, but it overwhelmed her. Along with her blurred vision and the shivers that won’t stop, she was in terrible condition.
“Oh my, you look quite pale. Are you alright?”
Helaena’s voice in the background was muffled as the ringing in Elyse’s ears grew higher in pitch. Shoot. At this rate, she might faint. She can’t pass out here. Helaena has enough going on without Elyse passing out right in front of her. “Yep. I’m feeling fine, Your Highness. But I do have to go. The Head Cook will be looking for me, sorry.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you should take a rest here…”
The muscles in her cheeks strained to plaster a fake smile onto her lips. “I’m fine, I promise. I will come again after the banquet and tell the twins another story.”
She doesn’t remember what Helaena said after that, nor how she managed to stumble out of the nursery on her two feet. Whatever thought she could manage to form in her feverish haze urged her to cut through the Godswoods and get back to her room ------ fast. But less than halfway through the Godswoods, she tripped over a tree root and collapsed into a puddle underneath a gigantic weirwood tree. Sweating bullets and seeing double, she floundered about, trying to climb back to her feet with no success.
Somehow, Elyse found the energy to sit against the weirwood tree’s trunk, leaning her head against the scratchy bark as she tried to calm her raging fever. Come on, Elyse. You can’t collapse now. You have so much to do, still. Just get your breath back and get back to your room. Everything will be ok once you sleep it off. She closed her eyes and fought her vertigo with long, deep breaths in rhythmic counts. It wasn’t much, but it did make her feel better.
A kick to her foot jerked her out of her exhausted trance. Elyse swiveled her head around, then looked up into the face of Joffrey Velaryon, who loomed over her with his hands on his hips. “What are you doing here?” The boy demanded.
She bit back a groan. Ugh. Not today. Not now. After weeks of vindictive, petty pranking, she was so relieved when Joffrey finally gave up on making her life miserable. Even so, she’d rather have nothing to do with him ------ especially since she didn’t know what Luke did or didn’t tell him about their fight.
Another kick. “I said , what are you doing here?”
“I’m taking a quick break, Your Highness,” Elyse replied with a feeble bow of her head. It was all she could manage right now. Joffrey was quiet. She expected him to scream or pull out her hair in a fit, but he was sniffling. On second look, his eyes were rimmed with red. Was he out here…crying? What the heck is with these freaking woods that makes everyone come to cry? First Helaena, now him.
Don’t get involved. It’s none of your business. You don’t even like him. Leave it alone.
…
I SAID, leave it alone!
…
Sigh.
Elyse chewed on her lip, “Are you alright, Your Highness? Are you lost?”
“I am not lost !” Joffrey snapped, frantically wiping his face with his elaborately embroidered sleeve. Elyse raised a brow. If it were anyone else, she would have teased them a bit, but with Joffrey? She’d rather not. “I w-was ----- I w-was-----” the boy’s voice trailed off into a hiccup. Wow. He was crying. “It’s just that----It’s just that -----” Finally, to Elyse’s astonishment, Joffrey plopped onto the ground with a frustrated huff. “What did you do to Jace and Luke?”
Wincing through her migraine, Elyse reluctantly asked, “What do you mean?”
Joffrey glared at the twisting tree roots on the ground. A fat tear burst out of his right eye, which he angrily swiped off. “I thought you three were friends, so why did Luke tell Jace not to talk to you again?” Her heart sank to her stomach. She was right.
Instead of asking Joffrey exactly what Luke said, she forced a grin and answered, “I thought you hated me. Aren’t you glad your brothers aren’t talking to me anymore?”
The younger boy flushed. He casted his eyes downwards and mumbled, “But…Luke was happy when you were friends. I do not like seeing him so angry. Luke is never angry,” his hand balled around a fistful of grass, which Joffrey tore out and flung to the side spitefully, “that is why I hate it here! I want to go home! I want to go back to Dragonstone. Everyone ----- my brothers, Mother, Daemon ----- everyone is so angry here!”
In contrast to their idyllic, quiet surroundings, Joffrey’s emotions were out of place. Jarring. Brash. And…understandable? Since the Velaryons had arrived shortly after Elyse woke up in this world, she’d forgotten that the Red Keep isn’t their usual residence. Piecing together what she had heard, Jace and Luke grew up partially in King’s Landing, but Joffrey spent his entire childhood on Dragonstone. Longing to be home, in his familiar environment, was a sentiment that Elyse could understand all too well. Which is why when she spoke to him again, her voice lost that frigid edge. “Did Luke yell at you? Is that why you’re crying?”
“I’m not crying!” Wipe wipe.
“Of course you’re not. I’m sorry.”
Wipe. Joffrey glowered at her, then slumped forward, leaning his head on his knees as his sniffles continued. “No. Not him. Jace. I said something about Princess Helaena, and Jace became furious with me. Why? All I said was what everyone thinks. Daemon says it all the time ------ that she must be mad, since all she does is whisper to herself and play with mud.”
Elyse rubbed her temples, weary. So that’s what happened. Hearing such ugly words spewed about Helaena ------ a literal angel ------ left a bitter taste in her mouth (though she was kind of secretly proud that Jace didn’t let it slide). Come to think of it, this is all the older generation’s fault. As adults, they had the responsibility of not letting the generational trauma and grudges seep into their children, yet their blatant encouragement to deepen the divide that there’s now an unresolvable hatred in the current generation. Rhaenyra, the queen, Daemon ----- they’re all to blame.
“Why is Jace angry with me?” Joffrey whimpered. Elyse glanced over. With his watering eyes and chocolate curls, he resembled a scorned puppy. Maybe this was how he got away with being so willful all the time. It’s hard to stay mad at that adorable face. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Helaena is strange. And she is a Green, just like her brothers! I bet she is just as heinous as that evil-looking Aemond.”
Sigh, she really didn’t want to get involved, but now, it seems she has no choice. If none of the adults will help guide Joffrey off this hateful path, the least she could do is provide some advice. Elyse cleared her scratchy throat and chose her words carefully. “Maybe…Jace can see a side of Helaena that isn’t like what the rumors say.”
Joffrey looked at her like she had grown two heads. Scowling, he wiped his nose on his sleeve and demanded, “What does that mean?”
“It means…maybe he was upset that people are saying mean things about someone who’s actually very nice.” From the confounded look on his face, it’s clear that the words ‘nice’ and ‘Helaena’ don't mesh well together in Joffrey’s mind. Just how did they brainwash this kid? “Ok, why don’t you tell me an example of Helaena being mean?”
Scratching his head, the little prince was silent for several minutes. “I…I am sure that she is…somehow! After all, Aemond is mean, and so is Aegon! Aemond even stole a dragon, that’s how mean he is!”
“Aemond stole a dragon? What does that mean?”
“Oof -----!” The young boy clamped his hand over his mouth, eyes widening with panic. He leaned over to her and hurriedly whispered, “D-Do not tell anyone t-that I said that. I-I said nothing, alright?”
Elyse gave him a sly side-eye. “Sure, if you tell me how he stole a dragon.”
“I cannot.”
“Oh, well, then I guess I'll have to tell on you.”
Joffrey gaped at her, cheeks flooding bright red. “B-But ---- B-But ---- I am a PRINCE!” he sputtered, “You c-cannot defy me!”
She poked him lightly in the forehead and challenged, “And what are you going to do about it?” Wagging her eyebrows with a wicked grin, Elyse snickered, “If you want me to keep your secret, then you better listen to me!” Her young opponent sat, blubbering and stammering helplessly, drawing a smirk out of a weakened Elyse. Kids will be kids. He may be a prince, but she’s been wrangling brats like him for as long as she can remember. Knowing when to let things go and when to make use of the cards in your deck is a delicate art. One that she’s mastered for dealing with rambunctious kids.
“F-Fine!” Joffrey crossed his arms, sulking in defeat. “But you have to swear that you will not tell anyone. I will be in so much trouble for talking about it. Especially if my grandsire hears.”
“Deal.”
The prince took a deep breath and explained, “Vhagar was not originally Aemond’s dragon; she was someone else’s.” Eager to hear more, Elyse ignored the pounding in her head and urged him to continue with determined nods. “Vhagar was Laena Velaryon’s mount. Laena was Baela and Rhaena’s birth mother. When she died, apparently, Rhaena wanted to claim Vhagar, or that is what I heard.”
“Claim?” Elyse shifted closer. “What does that mean?”
Joffrey scoffed in disbelief, like he couldn’t believe that she wasn’t deeply entrenched in Targaryen customs (not everyone can be born with silver spoons in their mouths and dragons as pets, you pompous twerp!) “Some Targaryens, like Jace, Luke and I, have dragon eggs placed in our cradles from birth. When they hatch, the dragons naturally bond to us without a claiming. For others whose eggs did not hatch, such as Daemon, they can try to claim a riderless dragon and forge a bond. Daemon formed a bond with Caraxes, who was Prince Aemon’s dragon previously. Laena, with Vhagar, who was Prince Baelon’s dragon.”
“Wow,” she marveled, clapping her hands, “you know a lot about these dragons?”
The little prince puffed out his chest and stuck his nose into the air, proudly proclaiming, “Yes, I do! It is my heritage, after all. Every Targaryen who knows their worth has our history memorized by heart. Anyway, that is all I know. Somehow, Vhagar became Aemond’s. He stole her. Aemond is the reason why Rhaena still does not have a dragon. How evil of him, don’t you agree?”
Elyse said nothing, but this new piece of the puzzle weighed heavy on her heart. Slowly, but surely, she was realizing that this entire affair was a tangled mess ----- as Helaena would say. “Even so,” she sighed, “at least from personal experience, I can tell you that Princess Helaena is very, very nice. After spending time with her, I’m sure that Jace came to realize that as well, so maybe he doesn’t appreciate you saying such mean things about his friend.”
“How can he be friends with her?” Joffrey’s face twisted with disgust. “Daemon said that all the Greens were despicable, fat-bellied rats ----- that even common thieves had more honor than the lot of them combined.”
Ah, her head was spinning again. Or was it the forest that was spinning? Either way, it was time to end this conversation. “Look, I can’t comment too much on this whole thing, but I can tell you that Jace adores you very, very much. Between siblings, there’s not much that a sincere apology can’t fix.”
Her young companion blinked up at her innocently, “But I am not sorry for what I said.”
This little ----- patience, Elyse, patience. He’s a kid. He’s still fixable. “Why not?” She tried, itching with impatience.
Joffrey stared at her matter-of-factly, “Because like I said, the Greens are our enemies. Why should I be sorry for what I said about the enemy?”
“Ok, you know what, we’re going to try a little experiment.” Elyse edged forward, wincing against how every move exacerbated the throbbing in her skull. “I’m going to put my hand over your eyes, ok?”
“Why?”
“For an experiment.”
“What is an eshperament?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please bear with me, my little prince.” Joffrey gave her a skeptical look, but allowed her to place one hand firmly over his eyes. With her other hand, Elyse held up three fingers. “Now, Prince Joffrey, can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”
“I cannot see. How am I supposed to know?” Joffrey answered crossly.
“Hmm, what if I tell you that I am holding up five fingers? What do you think? Can you tell me how many fingers I am holding up now?”
“Five…? No, you could be lying to me!”
“But what if I insist that I am holding up five fingers? Cross my heart and hope to die, I promise you that it’s five fingers. What about now?”
The boy’s nose was scrunched with concentration. After much debating, he shrugged and replied, “I do not know. You say five fingers, but I still think you are lying to me.”
“Bingo!” Elyse removed her hand from Joffrey’s eyes and waved the three extended fingers in his face. “See? You’re right, I was lying to you. Do you understand now?”
Joffrey tilted his head. “...I do not understand.”
Ok, maybe the analogy was lost on him. Elyse tried again. “I asked you to answer a question, but I didn’t let you see everything, right? All you could rely on was what I told you ----- which turned out to be a lie.” She placed her hand on his head and ruffled his soft curls gently. “Everything in life is like that, my prince. People lie. People manipulate. Sometimes, people might tell you untrue things just because they think it’s true. What you can do to make sure you make the right decision is use your eyes. That’s exactly what your brother did. Maybe before he came to King’s Landing, he also believed the rumors about Helaena. But when he spent time with her and used his own eyes to judge her character, he realized she wasn’t anything like she was portrayed in those malicious lies. Does that make sense?”
Joffrey didn’t answer, but the sullen, pouty look on his face was more than enough to tell Elyse that he was thinking hard on her words. She gave herself a mental pat on the back. He might not change overnight, but it’s a start. Joffrey wasn’t a terrible kid. Just horribly misguided by the adults in his life who held onto past mistakes. Poor boy never stood a chance.
Out of nowhere, the prince shot to his feet. Rubbing his eyes furiously while Elyse watched him wordlessly, he glared down at her and shouted, “T-This does not m-mean that I-I like you now!”
“Uh…ok?”
He spun on his heels and sprinted out of the Godswoods, clearly on his way to find Jace. A chuckle escaped Elyse’s sore throat. She leaned her head against the tree trunk again with a deep sigh. Ah, peace and quiet, finally. If only her stupid headache would go away. And these uncontrollable shivers. Struggling to her feet was a difficult feat, but eventually, Elyse found the strength to hobble out of the Godswoods, drenched in sweat.
She stumbled her way towards the servants’ quarters ----- yet every step felt like dragging her feet through thick mud. Her bones ached. Her head pounded. If she fell right now, Elyse suspected that she wouldn’t be able to get back up. When was the last time she got this sick? Was it after what happened the summer before her freshman year? At least then, her mom was there to feed her hot soup and wipe down her face with a cool towel. Her aunt would pop in with a pot of minestrone that she brought all the way from Queens. She could rest and sleep without having to worry about banquets and feuding families and civil wars. She was a normal girl.
There wasn’t anything on the ground to trip her, but one moment she was upright, and the next, Elyse felt her body collide against the pebbled ground. She laid there as the world spun, wanting nothing more than a hug and a bowl of hot soup. There was neither. Nor was there the energy for her to get back up again.
Ahhh…I screwed up. I should have listened when everyone told me I was overdoing it. Am I going to get into trouble for this? Hopefully not. Where would I go if I got fired right now?
I should get up.
I…need…to get…up…
I…