Baelon held Helaena's small hands as they stepped from the creaking ship onto the uneven stones of Dragonstone's harbour.
The sea whispered as it lapped against the jagged coast, the waves curling in and hissing before retreating with soft sighs.
A month had passed since he had arrived back at King's Landing, and here he was, off to visit his dear half-sister.
"Damn it!" Aegon's voice rang out behind them, causing both him and Helaena to look over. "Why are we here? Dragged out of Kings Landing to this—this barren rock?"
He kicked at a pebble that skittered across the stones, sending it tumbling ahead. "Not a single whore within sight. Does Mother want me to impregnate the cold stone walls here or something?"
Amid his thoughts, he tilted his head in thought. "Though I suppose the no whores statement may not be entirely true—"
Baelon coughed, the sound cutting through Aegon's rambling. His eldest brother shot him an annoyed glance, only to be distracted by the dark silhouettes looming ahead on the cliffs and steps leading into the castle.
Aegon's eyes widened, his mouth snapping shut as he hurried to join the rest of the group.
Baelon shook his head at his brother's theatrics, exchanging a glance with Helaena that was equal parts amusement and exasperation.
Observing Aegon, he realised that the brashness of his childhood had softened somewhat.
Not because he had matured, but rather because he had given up under the crushing weight of his mother's expectations.
Baelon knew well what Queen Alicent and, more importantly, his grandfather, expected of Aegon. He also knew, with uncomfortable clarity, how far his elder brother fell short of those demands.
Still, he buried his thoughts as the group approached their hosts.
At the crest of the stone rise, Rhaenyra stood awaiting them. Beside her, Laenor Velaryon's tall, athletic frame provided a quiet contrast.
Their two older children lingered near their mother, eyes wide with scrutiny, while the youngest, a babe of barely a year, rested securely in her arms as he fidgeted about.
At the head of Baelon's own group, Viserys spotted his daughter, and his face broke into a warm, weary smile. The king hobbled forward, slightly panting from the exertion, before bending to embrace Rhaenyra.
"Ah, Rhaenyra, why do you so rarely visit us?" he asked gently, glancing down at the infant she held. His fingers nudged the baby's cheeks playfully. "This must be little Joffrey."
The child giggled at his ministrations, and the sound floated over the rocky shore, pulling the rest of the group forward as they closed the distance.
Soon, Alicent joined in the exchange, her tone courteous. But Baelon felt a faint chill as the two women exchanged glances.
'It's like they're wearing masks. Masks shaped to the colour, texture, and weight of the person, but not the person themselves…' Baelon shuddered to think of living such a life.
Still, Baelon's gaze soon drifted to his nephews. Their shared brown hair and brown eyes gave him a deep sense of foreboding.
Beside him, Helaena leaned close, voice soft. "It seems our visions and those rumours truly did not deceive… The seed is strong."
Baelon did not dispute her words.
Rather, a terrible understanding crept over him: why everything in the years ahead would spiral so disastrously, why their mother was so adamant or rather confident, about Aegon being heir despite his many faults.
Nevertheless, as the polite exchange drew to a close, the groups were led inside. Soon, everyone was led to a great hall that was dimly lit by flickering torches set in wrought iron sconces.
The smell of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the ever-present tang of salt from the sea outside.
Before long, everyone began to feast, engaging in small talk with those nearest to them.
Aegon and Aemond sat close together, heads bent, whispering behind their hands.
Baelon caught snippets of their low voices, punctuated by stifled laughter and scathing glances aimed at Lucerys and Jacaerys seated nearby.
Across the table, Baelon found himself opposite Helaena, who poked forlornly at the vegetables on her plate before pushing them aside with a faint sigh.
He watched her for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips, before leaning to the side to return them to her fork.
"No, Helaena. You have to eat your vegetables," he said, as he pushed the vegetables back towards her with his own fork.
She looked at him and scoffed, pushing the food aside again.
"And here I thought you were a big girl now," Baelon continued, voice teasing but gentle. "At the pits the other day, you clearly showed a wisdom beyond your years. Why the sudden childishness at the table?"
"I am a child," she replied, eyes wide, giving him a speechless look before tilting her head in playful defiance. "But, am I not the eldest?"
Baelon raised a brow, pride curling in his chest. "No. I am."
"Oh?" Helaena's tone was incredulous, the faintest edge of challenge in her voice.
"'Oh?' What do you mean by 'oh'? Aren't you going to challenge my claim?" He asked, leaning closer, mock seriousness on his face.
"I'm not a child, I won't stoop so low." Her words landed sharply before she paused her movements.
"Oh, but I thought you just said you were a child." Baelon teased her again.
Helaena fell speechless at his words, realising she had been tricked.
Baelon, on the other hand, seeing the flash of life in her eyes, made him inwardly glad.
Too often, Helaena retreated into her own world at gatherings like this, leaving him to watch her seclude herself in silence.
Drawing her into conversation, even with gentle mockery, felt like a small victory to him.
Meanwhile, at the head of the table, Viserys, upon finishing his meal, turned to Rhaenyra near him.
"How have Lucerys and Jacaerys been lately? I've heard Jacaerys has been learning with the maester now?"
Rhaenyra set down her fork, eyes glancing toward her eldest children. "They are both doing well. Jacaerys has taken to his lessons eagerly. He asks questions that surprise even the maester."
"Good! Good!" Viserys gave a good-hearted laugh. "Perhaps he can grow to be as knowledgeable as little Baelon here."
Hearing his name in the conversation, Baelon creased his forehead as he paused his conversation with Helaena, before offering his father a polite smile.
On the other hand, Rhaenyra shot a less-than-impressed gaze at him before settling down into quiet.
Still, the conversation was destined not to end too smoothly.
"Curiosity is well enough," Alicent said smoothly, picking up where the conversation had previously ended. "But one must temper it with obedience. There is much to learn from those who know the proper way to behave, lest children grow reckless."
Rhaenyra's gaze flicked. "And I suppose teaching a boy to fear consequence is the proper way? To stifle his ambition?" She shook her head as he continued. "Your thoughts are as clear as day…"
Alicent's eyes narrowed slightly, though her voice remained soft. "Ambition without guidance is dangerous. One need only look at your… temperament at court to see how ill-directed desires and thoughts can bring ruin."
"My temperament has kept my family alive and my children well." Rhaenyra leaned forward, replying with an edge in her words. "Perhaps caution and constraint are only useful for those afraid to act when action is required."
Alicent's smile hardened, though it did not reach her eyes. "Action is only admirable when it follows duty, Rhaenyra. Otherwise, it is rashness disguised as courage. I would hope your children learn the difference before it is too late."
"And I would hope your son learns that courage and skill are more than just obedience to expectation." Rhaenyra's fingers tightened around her knife as she finished her words.
Interrupting them before things could escalate, Viserys's voice boomed above the din. "Enough! You are all family! There is no need for bickering like this!"
Everyone around grew quiet at his words, the tension at the scene hidden away by his words.
Soon, evening wound down, and the hall cleared for servants to collect dishes, Baelon leaned toward Helaena, voice a low whisper. "Come to my room after this. I need to show you something very important."
Helaena's eyes narrowed with curiosity, as she nodded with little hesitation. Whatever it was, she trusted her brother, and her curiosity would not let her refuse.
***
Knock! Knock!
The soft sound at the door stirred Baelon from where he had been idling on his bed. He swung his legs over the edge and crossed the room in quick steps.
Creak.
As the door eased open, a smile broke across his face at the sight of Helaena standing in the threshold, haloed by the corridor's dim torchlight.
"You're here," he said, ushering her inside.
Helaena dipped her head in a small nod as she stepped past him.
Her gaze flitted over his chamber, lingering on a person-sized depression on his bed and then the lone candle burning on its little stand by the floor.
Only once her eyes had taken in the room did she move to sit on the edge of his bed. There she settled, hands folded neatly over her lap, staring up at him with a quiet expectancy.
"Why did you bring me here?" She asked, tilting her head, silver-blond hair slipping over her shoulder.
"Do you remember why I went to the Citadel?" Baelon replied instead, folding his arms loosely as he stood before her.
"To find a way for us to overcome our visions." She met his gaze without wavering. "To escape what is to come."
He gave a slow nod as he walked toward the centre of the room, where a single candle rested atop its small iron stand.
"While I studied everything I could, the histories of Essos, the legends of Asshai, even half-forgotten theories and rites that were older than Oldtown itself…" Baelon lowered himself to sit cross-legged beside the candle. "With a bit of luck, I managed to find something else too."
Helaena watched him quietly as he closed his eyes, hands resting lightly on his knees.
He steadied his breathing.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Hold.
He repeated the cycle. Again and again. The room grew still as silence reigned.
Slowly, even the sound of his breathing began to fade in his ears; all that remained was the candle.
It's soft hisses and crackles.
The soft crackling at its base sharpened, then grew louder. Louder still. The world around him dimmed until the darkness behind his eyelids seemed to ripple.
Then, within that darkness… a spark.
A bloom of flame that had no business being seen by closed eyes.
This was the beginning. The first true step of pyromancy: forming a bond with a flame.
Baelon opened his eyes. The candle flickered gently before him, but something was different now.
He felt it, an invisible thread tugging lightly at his mind.
He pulled on it.
The flame responded. It surged upward, stretching to twice its height, twisting into a narrow spiral that danced with a sinuous, almost serpentine grace.
Its orange light washed across his skin. Baelon stared at it, breath catching with a mix of awe and satisfaction.
'This is only the beginning,' he thought. 'In time, I'll grow stronger. Strong enough to break free from what haunts us… from what waits in my dreams…'
But the memory of dinner earlier crept upon him, static smiles hiding daggers, words dripped in venom.
"Is this… magic?" A soft voice murmured beside him.
He jolted, the bond snapping. The flame trembled wildly before guttering out.
Baelon looked to his right. Helaena had shifted closer without him noticing, seated at his side, her head bent slightly as she studied the extinguished wick.
When she lifted her eyes to his, they gleamed with quiet wonder.
"Pyromancy, to be exact," he said quietly. "The Citadel held little else regarding magic. Even this was a gamble… but it paid off."
Baelon paused for a moment.
"You were right, Hela. I shouldn't have tried to shoulder this alone. We're family." He lifted his eyes to hers. "So it would be foolish for only one of us to learn it."
Helaena's gaze drifted between the thin wisp of smoke curling from the candle's wick and her brother's earnest face. A small smile softened her features.
"Of course," she said simply. "We're family. Whatever comes, we face it together."
Baelon shifted back onto the floor and motioned for her to join him. With a small flutter of her skirts, she knelt across from the extinguished candle.
He gently corrected the placement of her hands, guided her spine into a straight line, and taught her the first simple patterns of breath.
It took several weeks for him to finally bond with a flame. At that point, his patience had run thin. He almost believed the book was a fraud.
Luckily for him, that wasn't the case, and he could now pass it on to Helaena with confidence.
Because if they were to survive what their dreams warned of, they needed every advantage they could grasp.
As for the rest of their family…
Baelon hesitated.
He could not predict what consequences magic might bring to them, or what they might bring to the realm once armed with something so volatile.
After all, power, in the wrong hands, could burn a kingdom long before a dragon ever took flight.
And, this didn't even include how the faith would likely view it as heresy or witchcraft, destabilising the kingdom even more so.
Baelon shook his head, dismissing the thought of sharing the knowledge of the book.
Thus, allowing the secret to remain between a pair of siblings and a single flame waiting to be lit again.