The carriage rocked gently as it made its way through the winding streets of the capital, the rhythmic clatter of hooves against cobblestones blending with the distant hum of merchants and street cries.
Baelon settled against the worn leather of the seat, and across from him, Helaena sat with one hand resting lightly on the edge of her skirt, her gaze drifting dreamily toward the carriage roof.
Light filtered through the slats of the windows, casting fractured patterns across her pale features.
"So…" Baelon broke the silence, letting his eyes wander toward her. "Where are you taking me?"
"The Dragonpit," Helaena spoke, her voice soft as her legs gently kicked back and forth.
A weighty quiet settled between them, broken only by the carriage's gentle sway and the occasional clinking of metal from the horses' harnesses.
Baelon wanted to speak and break the awkward silence, but struggled to come up with him. Words slipping from the tip of his tongue.
She seemed to have changed quite a bit since the last time they saw in person, despite their dreams together.
No, even compared to their initial meeting in the Great Hall, she had changed—filled with a strange sense of melancholy.
"You're afraid," Helaena said suddenly, her bright violet eyes met his. "Father's words… they scared you."
Baelon offered a wry smile and slumped further into the carriage wall. "Am I so easy to read?"
"No. I just know you too well," she replied, still staring at him intently. "I thought you would have lost your fear after your stay at the Citadel."
"I thought so too, dear sister…" Baelon let his gaze drift to the window, watching rooftops blur as the carriage wove through narrow alleys. "But the more I learned, the worse our situation seemed. And, this is supposing our father tries to stop painting a target on my back."
Tap. Tap. Tap.
His fingers drummed against the polished wood of the carriage wall.
"If we stay here, our visions will likely come true. You may be wed to either Aegon to strengthen his claim or some lord seeking our family's allegiance, resulting in… that. And I… I will likely be wielded as a blade by our dear brother's side."
Helaena's lips pressed together, but she said nothing.
"And if we escape," Baelon continued, a bitter edge to his words, "our options are just as grim. We cannot stay in Westeros without being pulled into the storm. The free cities likewise offer no refuge, its free cities still remember the deeds of our Dragonlord ancestors."
Helaena rocked gently, lost in thought at his words. Then, almost as if compelled by some force beyond herself, she spoke.
"The Dance… it is inevitable. All players are already set upon their stages. What is to come… will come. To escape the grasp of fate, one must gamble their life. Preparation and patience build the bridge, but to cross it, one can only rely on fire and blood."
Baelon stared, silent. He knew what this was. Prophecy.
Whilst they may share their Dragon Dreams, prophecy was a gift of Helaena alone.
As her words fell, Helaena's gaze finally returned to him, questioning in manner.
"You made another prophecy," Baelon said softly.
She nodded but said nothing.
"Don't you want to hear it again?" He pressed.
"No," she whispered. "I rarely remember what I say in that state. Perhaps it is for a reason. If you heard it… that is enough. Those words were meant for you."
Baelon raised a brow, shaking his head, speechless at her words.
His sister truly was unique, her wisdom shifting like the flip of a coin. Some days she would find joy in playing with bugs and dirt, other days she seemed possessed by the remnant ghost of Jaehaerys himself.
The carriage jolted, the horses slowing as the driver called out.
"Looks like we're here." Helaena hopped from her seat with a grace that belied her age, clutching her skirts and beckoning him forward.
Baelon rose as he followed her out. The open air hit him, carrying the scents of dust, smoke, and the distant salt of the harbour.
Before him sprawled the Dragonpit in all its wretched glory. Its towering, skeletal arches stretch toward the sky like the ribs of some ancient, slumbering beast.
***
Accompanied by Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk Cargyll, the Kingsguard his father had assigned him and Helaena, Baelon descended with his sister into the Dragonpit.
Heat rolled through the space in slow, oppressive waves.
The Kingsguard walked a half-step behind the royal pair, hands never straying far from sword hilts.
Their eyes swept across the yawning corridors branching off from the main passage.
"Helaena," Baelon murmured, his voice sinking into the cavern's gloom. "You still haven't said what we're doing here."
"You'll find out," she replied softly, the ghost of a smile touching her lips.
Deeper they went. The air grew warmer, the smells sharper; a mix of raw meat and hot stone. A Dragonkeeper waited at the next archway, his face lit orange by a smoking brazier nearby. The man bowed low.
"Princess," he greeted, offering a large bowl brimming with fresh meat.
"Thank you," Helaena said, accepting it with both hands.
Baelon followed silently, curiosity coiling in his chest. He already suspected where she was leading him. After all, her letters over the years had already shown her progress with the she-dragon.
Soon, the corridor narrowed as they approached Dreamfyre's den.
A massive iron-bound gate marked the entrance, flanked by two more Keepers who watched Helaena's approach with uneasy reverence.
Helaena stopped before the gate and turned to the twin Kingsguard.
"Ser Arryk, Ser Erryk. You'll remain here."
The brothers exchanged a troubled glance.
"Princess," Arryk began carefully, "we are under the king's own command to guard you."
Before Helaena could answer, Baelon stepped forward. He knew sophistry and arguments were not his sister's strong suit.
"If my father assigned you to us, then it is your duty to obey the commands given here," he said. "I'll speak for you both should any questions arise."
The twins hesitated another moment, but bowed their heads at last.
"As you command, my prince."
Hearing this, Helaena slipped through the gate. Baelon hurried after her.
The den beyond opened into a cavern lit by flickering sconces, their flames dancing across scales the colour of pale sapphire and molten silver.
Dreamfyre lay coiled upon a bed of heated stone, her wings folded neatly against her flanks. She was enormous, both elegant and deadly.
Chains as thick as a man's arm were fastened to the iron collar around her throat, anchoring her to the stone pillars sunk deep into the ground.
The dragon lifted her head at the sound of their approach.
Two golden eyes narrowed, studying them for a moment.
Helaena brightened with a quiet, almost childlike smile.
"Nyke māzigon (I'm back)," she murmured.
She plucked a piece of meat from the bowl and held it aloft. Dreamfyre huffed, smoke curling from her nostrils.
Helaena teased her for a heartbeat before tossing the meat. The great dragon lunged and caught it in a single bite before wolfing it down.
"Sister?" Baelon moved closer, unable to keep the wariness from his voice as he stared up at the behemoth.
"Yes?" Helaena replied, eyes never leaving Dreamfyre.
"Why did you bring me here?"
Silence fell upon them. Save for the wet tearing of meat and the deep rumble of Dreamfyre's breath.
Helaena stepped closer to the dragon as she continued speaking.
"These past years, I've been getting closer to her," she said gently, dancing around his question.
She reached out and brushed her fingers along Dreamfyre's scales, stroking the ridge of her neck. "She lets me near. She lets me touch her."
A soft smile crossed her lips.
"But I have not claimed her. Not yet. I cannot ride her, not until she accepts me fully."
Her voice warmed with quiet certainty.
"But I believe it will happen soon."
Baelon said nothing, simply watching her. Then, without warning, Helaena turned and seized his hand.
"Come," she urged.
Dreamfyre shifted, her head lowering. She sniffed at Baelon, the gust of hot air washing over him like a furnace blast.
The dragon's eyes flicked to Helaena, an almost questioning look, before the princess tossed another chunk of meat. Dreamfyre snapped it up, attention drifting back to her meal.
Helaena guided Baelon forward until his palm brushed against the dragon's warm, ridged side as she kept her palm on his hand.
"All these years," she murmured, voice barely above the rumble of Dreamfyre's chewing, "you've seemed so desperate to find a way out for us…"
Her expression softened, sorrow clouding her features.
"But it didn't truly begin the day we saw the vision of my fall. That is why you left. Every time you looked at me… you remembered it. You feared it."
Baelon flinched, her words forcing him to confront a truth he had been trying to avoid.
"Off the Holdfast," she whispered. "Impaled on the spikes below."
She tilted her head, gaze distant and thoughtful.
"I do not know what caused that future. But I can feel the path before me changing. Splitting. My fate is no longer fixed."
Dreamfyre rumbled, shaking her scales beneath their hands.
"Whether for good or ill…" Helaena shook her head, then looked up at him with a fragile smile. "I will soon be able to help you. Help us. With Dreamfyre, at least one thing is certain. I can protect us for now."
Her fingers interlaced with his, still resting on the dragon's warm flank.
"I just want you to know… whatever comes, we can face it together," she whispered. "Stop trying to bear it all alone."
Baelon exhaled a long breath. He realised why she had brought him here.
He met her gaze. Really met it.
Soon a rueful smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
She was still unhappy about his departure those years ago, merely meeting in dreams did not address her grievances. After all, they had been together since birth.
"Alright," he murmured. "You win. I won't leave you again. We'll fight for our future. Together."
As his words fell, the den fell into quietude, save for the munching of a certain she-dragon.
For the first time, Baelon felt relieved as he realised something.
"Prophecy and dreams be damned." He mumbled, feeling the warmth on his hand, from both the scales of the beast beneath it and the dainty palm resting on its back. "We can try to escape, or we will die trying. That is all there is."
Before, death seemed frightening to Baelon, a chilling inevitability. Something he could not escape.
But Helaena's words reminded him of something.
As long as they remained together, death did not seem as frightening.
What must, will be.