#the idea of yearning hel is always adorable ngl

[lullaebies]

Idk if you’re still taking Helaegon prompts but if you are how about one where like when ever since she was little Helaena has been having dragon dreams where she marries Aegon, and to any little girl obviously that would make her have a MASSIVE crush on him 🥺🥺🥺

I still take prompts, yes! I try to write one daily now, so all are welcome to send any and I'll get to them slowly (as long as I feel comfortable with the prompt). This one is very cute, I nearly lost it yesterday bc of Tumblr but luckily I managed to get the ask back.. thank goodness I really liked this one lol note: book!setting and ages! -

Helaena saw it in a dream, once, twice, thrice.

The exchange of cloaks, the dip of his head as he looks down at her, the colors of the stained-glass window shining down on them. It is all brief and fleeting; his knuckles brush against her neck gently to clasp the cloak together, but she still feels it all the same.

When she is awoken from her daydreams, it’s often by a much rougher grab of her arm. It is still Aegon, all the same, but his hair isn’t quite as long, and they don’t stand in front of a man with a book, but by mother’s skirts, still only reached by the waist of her green dress.

She first understands what all those glimpses of dreams mean when she is five, and Rhaenyra marries in front of their eyes. Lord Laenor Velaryon gallantly places an intricate cloak, saying his vows as Rhaenyra does, before placing a soft kiss on her lips for all to see. She can’t help but stare.

Aegon is bored beyond belief throughout the ceremony, leaning against Helaena’s shoulder in annoyance and waiting for it to end. Aemond has been fussy enough to the point he’s been brought to their mother’s arm, and Aegon nearly melted against her trying to stray from their brother’s grating whines.

“I hate weddings,” he says, grumpily. He’s been quick to say he hates many things, and Mother has always told him he’s all too sullen for his handsome face. She hasn’t thought about it much, but a groom’s features are a part of his charm, she suddenly thinks. She stills as he squishes his head against her neck. “Can’t we leave?”

“There’s still the wedding dance..” she answers, holding onto her dress. She doesn’t want him to see her flush.

“We should dance, then,” he says, and Helaena’s heart softens. But Rhaenyra and Laenor’s dance comes first, and the sea of people in the hall would be uninviting when the communal dance starts; Mother wants them to stay close. They’re too small. Too small, still.

They’ll dance, though. She knows they will; she could almost feel the weight of the steps.

“We are later,” she says bravely, her heart quickening its pace. Aegon groans in her ears, sprawling unbecomingly between their chairs and on her.

“I want to now!” He says, hasty in saying words he cannot quite understand. Helaena grabs onto his face squeezing his cheeks. A part of her is giddy at the thought of the same. “Hey!” he says in annoyance, and she giggles.

-

Those dreams don’t stop, and the giddiness doesn’t dissipate.

Every year an additional flower is added to the riddle; when Sunfyre is claimed, the gold dragon of her dream cape sparkles even brighter. When Dreamfyre is claimed, she thinks remembers the teals of her jewels; she is even met with those dream pieces of jewelry to be gifts from her mother.

She tries to safe keep them, to hide them from Aegon. He should see it then, not now. Aegon chases her around to let him see what Mother has brought her; he’s ten, and she is just touching nine, and he runs after her between the peony hedges in the gardens. She thinks she saw those flowers too, within the vases from that sept of her dreams.

He catches her in his arms so she can’t escape; she feels the tips of her ears color up, but she can blame the sun still. Helaena finally lets him see. He huffs.

“You need to put them on like Mother, not hide them!” he says, as if he knows anything about it, and puts on the necklace of the set on her, knuckles grazing the sides of her neck. The feeling is much more pronounced than her daydreams.

Helaena thinks of it until night, sleepless, but with dreams deep in her heart.

—  

And one day it is said aloud, that she shall soon enough marry too, as the flowered girl she is. Always there to counsel Father and Mother, Grandsire gives consideration to different houses with different sons who belong to all of those places she never saw, not with her eyes and not in her mind.

All that is unfamiliar shatters a well-established image. Aegon is maturing, too, and strays more often from her side. She dreamt and dreamt and is to be left just imagination? It’s not quite fair, she thinks when she already held her thoughts as her future.

She hides in the gardens when Aegon comes in unhurrying steps. “What did rush out for? They’re not sending you away tomorrow,” he says. Helaena’s lips fall in a frown. He sighs and comes by closer, reaching for her arm to get her up from her crouching position. “Come on, come back. If you say what you want, perhaps they’ll even think about it.”

Helaena looks at him from the corner of her eye, biting her lips as she lets herself raised back up from her feet. She holds on to his arm as she does, and looks back at him, only defiance surging in her.

“Good,” he says, not noticing. “Let’s go—”

He is cut off abruptly when she lifts herself on her tiptoes to kiss him. The same way she saw Laenor kiss Rhaenyra at their wedding; the same way she saw Aegon kissing her, at their wedding. He gasps against her before he calms, and allows it. Her heart beats louder every time the dejavu in her mind repeats. Again and again; this dream always comes back, always stronger, and it is insistent, she's insistent, more than ever before.

And then, the kiss breaks off to the sounds of Mother’s gasp, some realization on her face for all that Helaena has long ago accepted. In a way, all is sealed and the future is made true.

They’ll dance, later, she and Aegon. Helaena knows.