But A Dream Is Not Reality

She was a delicate soul, kind and warm like the sun that would light up the world it orbited. You were lucky to get along with her, at least there was one person here that saw you as something other than a high grace to be impressed. She didn’t want you for anything you had, only the friendship you could offer to her. You were grateful.  “Helaena,” you whispered gently to her, watching as her eyes moved away from the flower between her fingers. Raised brows as she looked back to your sunlit face, you grinned as you collected the delicate bug on your finger. You weren’t one for bugs, really. At least not the unpredictable ones with fangs and shields, they reminded you too much of yourself. Her face lit up with the shine of a million stars, leaning forward as her hands found her well-dressed knees. 

“I have never seen such a creature as that before,” She spoke quietly. Humming, you nodded as you held your finger higher. “It is from my lands, princess. Land you have never walked on, we call them dream bugs,” You told her. Her face lifted into a smile, fingers gently gripping my hand as she studied its gentle nature. “That is ever so fascinating, and why is it, do you think, that they have that title?”She asked. It was one of the things you liked about her, her ability to ask questions and not pretend to understand every bit of the world. But this was a land not without people such as that, her brother, Aemond the philosopher was a force that could not be escaped. The one-eyed warrior could not hold his emotions inside, though he believed himself to have the strongest of armor and hidden faces. But his emotions were painted everywhere in his body, in his long fingers that rolled against the table, his dark brow that twitched at the voice of his brother slicing through the air, the slight shift in his pupil at any mention of the word, King.

 The way he refused to look away from you at any given moment, his strong shoulders. He was a book wide open. Only he was written in many languages, his pages out of order, written by forces unseen. He was difficult, intriguing. It was his art, a lure. But Helaena, she would tell anything you asked without space for question or misunderstanding. That’s why you soaked yourself in her company, drowned in it most days. “We have given it to them for few reasons,” you said softly, glancing to her. “We have stories, legends of keeping their presence by the bedside. You must ask a question before you drift to sleep, and when you awake you will know the answer.”You replied, taking in a quiet breath. “Is it true, the legend?”She asked. Your body swayed with a silent movement, all but your arm shifting with the wind.

 “We can only believe, most often they are impossible to catch. You see the skin, lilac, and sapphire,” You spoke gently, watching as she nodded to my words. “This color, it is rare. The skin is often green, deep hues that match those of the trees and earth. Brown, sometimes. But their fur, always bright and soft, that is what gives them away.”You told her, watching as her head tilted. “A mutation, this one is different than the others.”Something you learned of the Targaryens quickly, their words are not just the surface. Beneath them, there is always a message, at least, with Helaena. She was truly a woman of the extraordinary, your mind wandering to the possibility that she was one of my people. Her hair was white, yes, but is that out of chance? Staring along her gentle features and periwinkle eyes, you quickly discarded the thought before you allowed it to move forward. The Targaryens were something beyond humans, drunk on divinity and hands extended to the gods. That’s why you were here, you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time.

 “Yes,”You spoke quietly. “It is beautiful, but I am afraid that I am without a proper place to put her. I do not have many friends for her or the understanding of this land.”You grinned , watching as  understanding began to show on her face. “But I believe that you do, is that right, princess?”You asked. Her palms hit each other in a gentle clap of excitement, nodding eagerly. “Yes, yes. I do,” She smiled, placing her hand out before me. Humming quietly, you allowed the bug to glide across your fingertip and onto her palm, the shine of its bright fur beneath the sun was almost heavenly. This was the message, you realized. The confirmation. Indeed, you were the mutation of your line. The new wave, a mystery for some years. You watched her as she rose to her feet, eager to bring her new friend to her room. 

“Take care of her, princess,” You called to her, though you knew you didn’t have to remind her. Turning back, she bowed her head. “I will, my Queen.”Her eyes held a message, a gentle breath filling her body before she spoke again, eyes piercing into you. “This one is not like the others,” She said, nodding. “Indeed it is not, ”you replied. Smiling, she looked back to the path that approached the castle, becoming a bright figure in the distance. All that was left with you was the silence of the world, the light caress of the wind, and the sweet smell of citrus and petals. You liked this spot more than most, it was one of the only places where you could escape the sounds of the palace that constantly reached out for you. Exhausting, it became. Being away from home in a place that was not made with you in mind, ears that reached for the clouds collected everything beneath the sun inside of them, including the footsteps of a curious prince lurking in the shadows.

 Eyes widening, you wondered if you should pretend that you hadn’t heard him at all. He was a curious thing, that prince. Feeling his footsteps approaching, shoulders lifted and heart beating cautiously, your head tilted toward the direction from which it came. You had a few seconds before he came along, you knew that much. Not enough to escape an unwanted conversation, but enough time to prepare, pinching your beautiful butter-yellow dress. You refused to dress in the depressing colors of greys and reds, that was the deal that you made yourself when you left home. You wouldn’t be changing yourself or become confined to their customs. Palms against your skirt was the only way to keep your fingertips from your necklace, the nervous habit that you knew could be read easily. 

A deep breath cracking your spine, you looked across the land to the castle, allowing your ears to bend towards them, taking in the sounds of laughter and fingertips. Eyes turned in focus, brows knit together in a struggle to decipher the noises that shuffled through the hallways, smiling when you heard the commotions two young Velaryons were causing in the kitchen. So focused you had forgotten what you were distracting yourself from. “My lady,” His voice felt heavy in the air, a foreign sound that you had not heard in so long. In fact, you were unsure if you had heard it at all. You found that he was far quieter than his older brother that you had grown to dislike from the moment your eyes met, but you also found that he had a violence pumping through his veins, one that he tamed like a beast. 

You were not one for eye contact, nor were you one to give your full attention to a man who had done nothing to properly earn it. Not even to the king did you give such a thing, letting your eyes remain on the grass, you simply nodded. His hands were pulled behind his back, the vibrations that were heavy in the air told you that he was fidgeting with his fingers, and the echos of his mind made you blush as he thought about how much he wanted to push them inside of you. “My mother wishes for you to meet her for tea,”He spoke gently, his voice carefully calculated as his eye fell to your ear, a gentle curve of metal along the skin. He thought you were so beautiful, painfully so. But he also knew that that was what he was supposed to think, it was the charm of your kind. The lure. Strong deep eyes, long hair that fell into all too beautiful curls, gentle finger tips that had the danger of talons. You were a demon, here to punish him for all the sins that weighed upon him. 

He knew many things about sins, as did all Targaryens. It was in their blood, which is probably why you craved it so badly. “Does she?”You asked, your voice held steady in a way that drove him wild. Drawing in a deep breath, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was a gentleman, well raised in the way that his brother was not, a product of his parents’ mistakes and his brother's horrors. He would not be so stupid as to get caught up with you, not without an order. But, if he read between the lines and pulled his fingers through them, he was almost certain that this could be encouraged. Blinded by his own matters, he decided against everything that came into his mind. “May I sit?”He asked. Fascinating, you weren’t yet sure that you took him as the kind to ask permission for such a thing. He was colder than the children of Rhaenyra, colder than his sweet sister, and strong-faced. But kind, awaiting your response. Looking to the blanket that you sat upon, large and thin and more resembling a carpet, texture protective and strong, Pani. 

“You may,”You spoke, watching as he sunk into your vision. His clothes were dark, surely he was the moon and you were the sun that he orbited so obeyingly. His hair was neat and long and you wondered how it would feel between your sharp fingers. His eye met yours carefully, and for a moment you didn’t feel like you were a creature being studied or a reward being chased. Small stress filled your body, never being alone with the prince in the time that you had been here. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, taking in the beauty of your features, long white lashes that fascinated him so deeply, gold hung from your ears, rounded bones along your neck hanging by a carefully crafted chain. He tilted his head, slowly entering your line of vision, brow lifted as he took a glimpse of your calm expression. “She wishes to speak of marriage,” He spoke gently, when your eyes landed upon his, you could tell that there was something inside of it. 

A hope, almost. An interest in you beyond what you could offer to him. Smiling, you shook your head as your hands moved across your skirt. “I do not wish to marry your mother,”You joked, watching as a small smile blossomed on his face. But you knew he didn’t find it particularly funny, the joke itself. Had it come from the mouth of another he would not give it a reaction at all. “Nor do I, my lady.”He spoke gently, a small panic rising in him when he wonders whether or not he has addressed you by the right title. Yes, you were a Queen. But not his Queen, lords, had he forgotten so quickly the order of the world? The word was that you did not want to be addressed with the burdened title, not until you properly took your crown under your own wishes. The bodies of your parents were still fresh in the cavities of the Earth, it was too soon, he believed. But even if you were only a maiden, he would still be glad to call you his Queen.

 You simply hummed at his response, wishing to spend an eternity in the gardens. “I think that I much prefer your sister to your mother,”You spoke with no fear, his breath tightening in his chest at your words as if someone would come hunting the speaker. Swallowing his protest, he simply nodded. “I see,”He spoke, his hands in his lap as he searched for his next words. “If you wish to stay here, I cannot stop you. But I cannot promise that I can protect you from her…”He trailed off. “Distaste.”He spoke. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to dislike you, the thread holding your worlds together was practically burned, a dying connection. He could not bare to see it go. “This worries you?”You asked, leaning forward, elbows upon your knees. His eye could not meet yours, though a gentle smile did curve across his handsome features. “Only as much as it does you, My Queen.”Oh, how you liked those words. You didn’t think you would, but the more times it met your ears the more you understood why it was so commonly spoken.

 “I worry not one bit, but I do have a taste for tea.”You replied, watching as his head turned back towards the direction from which he came. It was an odd path, seeing as it meant he had gone in a long loop to avoid meeting your face. To give himself a few extra moments to prepare himself. “I will walk with you,”He practically jumped from the blanket, standing tall and ready to take your arm if you needed the help. You were not so prideful as him, accepting the offer as you carefully stood, not bothering to smooth your dress. It was not something you or your family ever did, false appearances and perfectly smoothed hair, no. You should be able to see the course of the day in the face of the people you speak to, the small traces of dirt, the wind that pulls at the waves, the shift in jewelry and skirts. He looked only to your face, not giving you the disrespect as to admire your body and gown, though he must admit everything of you was painfully gorgeous. 

Though he told you many times that anything left behind would be delivered back to your quarters, you still insisted on tying up your own blanket and carrying it by your side, a strange bag that hung to your shoulder could not be held by the hands of others, royal and pure or not. “I do not like others touching things that belong to me,” You spoke to him as he offered a hand. He thought perhaps he should deny it, his mother may have a fit if she saw you carrying the weight of your own things. But he would not go against your words, only nodding as you held it tightly against your body. Walking side by side, silence consumed you again. As the air grew heavier and heavier with every step, filled with the scent of roast and the tapping of a blade against wood, the sun grew high as the hour of lunch approached. 

Stopping in your step, you turned back to the path, your heart growing a bit heavy in your chest. Oh dear, not again. His confused eye met yours, and forgetting what he had agreed to some  time ago, he found his fingers pressed against the softness of your arm. “What is it, my Queen?”He asked, taking in the slight distress on your face. Humming, you tried to let your worry escape you as a vision clouded your mind. “The peace falls from the sky,”You spoke softly, just loud enough for him to hear you.

 He didn’t know what to make of it, he never did. He heard such odd words from his sister, many times since their youth. But for you to say such a thing, well, that just fascinated him, leaning closer to you. Her fingertips pressed into his skin, the claw of your thumb prying a small crimson drop from his skin. Your eyes were filled with a terror that he wished he could take away, his hand a risk as it traveled along you, heat ghosting against your skin that frustrated you greatly, pulling your grip away with a huff, the feeling of a million crawling legs burning up your spine. Great discomfort consumed you, a rush in your step as you approached the palace, far too quick for Aemond to meet.