#helaene

[lary5trong]

❛ do you ever think about purpose? ❜ coming in a little hot with the existential crisis there Helaena-

The Queen was always a quiet one,   one's whose words carried an unassuming power,   much like how ants are capable of carrying immense loads for a creature such as their size.   Deceivingly simple and devastatingly strong.   It was unsettling,   but that was a feeling that Larys enjoyed,   a reminder that the world is so much larger and is far from being understood.

“That is quite a heavy question for such a bright and early morning,   Your Grace,   I fear my mind is not yet fully awake.”   Spoken with a lie,   though only to let him gather his thoughts rather than to dodge Helaena's question.   “But I do.   It feels unavoidable considering purpose when surrounded by Lords and servants,   as we all play a role,   no matter how big or small.   As I am sure you know,   my Queen.”   The emphasis on her title was not needed as a quiet thought of how a person's name seems to be lost the higher their station rises stirred in his mind.   “We rarely get to choose what our purpose is,   if ever,   I think.”

PROMPT,   answered for @helaene

[darkccfinds]

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[verticordiae]

@helaene: 'the gods must be angry. i sense a storm brewing.'

HER EYES SLIP SHUT for the briefest of moments, feeling the dampness of the air and giving herself just a sliver of respite in imagining it to be the spray of the sunset sea instead. it tastes different; blackwater bay is less salty than the waters around casterly rock, and it's not like condensation and seawater are the same thing. it is no matter. she is as close to the top as she's ever been. that is what matters, it is all that matters, and that is precisely what holds cersei's tongue for her as she steps away from the window and turns back into the room to face the queen.

the sky is nearly pitch black, cersei wants to say. not much 'sensing' is required to glean that indeed, it might soon rain. instead, she bites her words back. " yes, your grace, " she agrees instead with a practised ease, sliding back into the seat she had just vacated moments before to breathe in the fresh air. it wasn't fresh, it was oppressive and damp and grey. cersei couldn't wait for the storm to break; it was pressing down on the whole city, making the very air feel thick and cumbersome, and all it did was make her restless, like the lions in the menagerie inside the rock. other ladies seemed to be able to sit and chat politely for hours. it was, certainly, an attainable goal for her, though not a desirable one.

" are you quite worried, queen helaena? i cannot imagine that anything you do could upset the gods; their wrath is surely directed elsewhere. " it's wry, almost teasing, a little sweet, and in possession of an undercurrent of truth that she had not entirely meant to include.

[c0mpositeur]

[ CROWN ]:          having created a flower crown, the sender carefully places it atop the receiver’s head.

legs folded to chest , christian is snapped out of thoughtless trance when he feels the brush of helaena's fingers, the gentle caress of petals & leaves nestled atop his head. " well isn't this lovely, " smile grows tenfold, and fingers carefully reach to touch the crown she had gifted him. " what is this for? " a laugh escapes him, beaming.

[literare-at-ayarn]

from @helaene, haelena targaryen : ∗ 18﹕ sender comes to receiver after being injured .

she had been young when the queen had sought out ladies in waiting for her daughter. someone who played nice together. someone who understood the certain quirks the princess had, even at a young age. vivienne felt lucky in many ways. liked it here, in the red keep, in kings landing. grew up here in many ways. enjoyed her time with the princess as well, and while different stations in life, she felt as if they were friends. her father had sworn his loyalty to the princess rhaenyra years ago however. and now . . . it had happened quickly. her father still loyal to the now queen, and it was seen as treason. had not seen him since she was sent here, her relations to her family, to her house, it was barely there. and now she sit behind bars, on a mattress of straws and a foul scent lingering in the air. still in her nightgown, only allowed a blanket to be wrapped around her shoulders and the scruffs on the palm of her hands hurriedly wrapped. gaze lift as footsteps approach and there's a soft sound, comming from the back of throat while getting up from the floor, before there's a small bend of stiff knees. " my queen, "

[anfairest]

𓇢𓆸 @helaene / i'm   a   guest   of   queen   helaena,   she   kept   reminding   herself.   an   uninvited   guest   coming   with   the   fog   of   blackwater's   bay   at   dawn's   break,   soldiers   around   her   with   reverent   service   though   hers   had   no   white   cloak   or   vows   to   swear.   snow   white   sat   now   on   a   veranda,   most   beautiful,   a   cup   of   wine   on   hands   that   she   had   yet   to   sip   from.   across   her   sat   her   childhood   companion.   helaena   always   had   the   most   beautiful   eyes   and   complexion   and   while   her   ways   were   different,   snow   perceived   them   as   purity   unlike   any   other.   wisdom   unlike   any   other,   as   well.   had   such   wisdom   told   her   through   whispers   what   had   transpassed   back   in   tabor?   why   communication   was   shut   between   them   when   the   gods   cursed   the   friends   who   abandoned   one   another?   snow's   pure   blue   pools   shone   with   worry,   confusion,   seeing   no   tiara   above   the   head   their   people   called   a   queen's.           ❝ i’ve   feared   the   rumors   and   now   i   see   that   they   are   true.      a   civil   war   rages   here,      too.  ❞      as   it   had   in   her   country.            snow   raised   from   chair,      placing   wine   in   a   forgettable   spot,      running   to   kneel   before   dear   friend   devoid   of   any   manners.         ❝  helaena,      the   little      girl   i’ve   met   never   spoke   of   being   queen.         if   she   wishes   to   escape   this,      allow   yourself   to   come   with   me   -      take   your   dragon   and   fly   with   your   children   to   safety   before   the   storm   breaks.     ❞               voice   was   sweet   as   it   was   when   she   sung,         but   ironed   like   her   skin   after   so   much   pain.         halaena   deserved   peace,      so   did   her   son   and   daughter.         tabor   was   free   —   no   burden   and   no   kinslay.   

[kirimvesrina]

@helaene we are all dead. all equal. broken and aimless and believing we are alive.

it takes a few moments to puzzle out her friends meaning. she supposes when looking at a life as a whole, helaena's words are truth. the stranger waited for them all, there was no denying it. but did that not make the time they were granted all the more beautiful? ❝ if that is true, is it not better for us to believe the fantasy ? to enjoy the moments that are afforded to us, and hold tightly to the things that bring us joy ? ❞

the knowledge that one day the only part of her that would remain would be dust, did not detract from the way she strove to embrace each day to its fullest. ❝ the time will come when you and i will be nothing but forgotten names in the annals of history. but here and now, i will always be by your side to remind you of where you are in this moment. if we are all broken, it is only so that our roughened edges may come together to make a whole. ❞ slowly and with gentle care, she reaches out to take her friends hand in her own, fingers lacing together. two aimless pieces fitting into place.

[athasliath]

😘

EEVVEEEEEE