AU: Aegon learns about Helaena's pregnancy after the execution of their son’s killers. For him, it’s a chance at a new future – hope. But Helaena knows the truth: her child won’t live long, and she will die soon after hearing his last breath.
Little scenes written into the main story to show Aegon and Helaena's relationships. Made for helaegon week.
1×8
She rises with the dawn. Leisurely dresses herself, drawing the curtains slightly open, letting in the sun. For some unknown reason, she doesn’t want to leave, so she finds her embroidery forgotten months ago, sits on the edge of the bed, and begins working intently on new stitches.
She doesn’t notice how he shifts in his sleep on the bed, unconsciously seeking warmth. Helaena only smiles a little when a warm hand rests on her thigh. She turns around, studying his sleepy face, the blush on his cheeks, and his tousled hair. Aegon is softly snoring, and the broad hand warms her skin through the fabric.
The princess’s thoughts are interrupted by the creak of the door.
Mother bursts into the chambers as usual without knocking, but freezes on the spot, emotions flickering across her face faster than a storm wind.
Helaena looks up with a question, leaving her embroidery on the lap. Alicent quickly closes the distance: her movements are sharp, her brows furrowed, and her eyes scan her daughter with excessive scrutiny.
"Helaena, sweetheart, what are you doing here?" She doesn’t lower her voice, leans over her, cupping daughter's face.
To Helaena it even seems funny: why wouldn’t a wife be in her husband’s chambers?
But her mother’s sharp gaze notices something — a mark on the pale skin of her neck — and she doesn’t ask. She pulls back the neckline of the dress, ignoring her daughter’s babbling as she tries to pull away from the unwanted touch.
"What is this?" she asks harshly, though her voice betrays emotion. "Did he do this?" Words drip with venom.
She knows – it's something personal to her mother, but has no time to protest either the accusations or the disgust in her large eyes.
"Tell me the truth, sweetheart, and I will never let this happen again…"
The mother is on the verge of tears, backing away, trying to keep herself composed, while Helaena blushes more intensely than before. She understands that she must confess to stop the madness. But her mouth only opens in silence, her fingers nervously pulling at the edges of the embroidery, unraveling the threads.
Alicent emotionally grabs the goblet from the nightstand and splashes wine in her son's face, roughly waking him up. The warmth of the touch on her thigh fades away.
"What now?!"
He blinks rapidly, wipes his face, trying to make sense of what just happened.
"Mother... The bruise... It's not what you think. It's a mark left by my husband in a moment of passion."
She tries to explain, hiding behind the right words, her face flushed with embarrassment. Only now does Aegon begin to understand, and he bursts into loud laughter, masking the pain of his disappointment with the judgments people have of him.
Meanwhile, Alicent freezes, staring in shock at her daughter's face, wanting to be sure that she isn’t lying.
"Yes, go ahead, tell our mother what you asked me to do with you last night," he laughs again.
Her face burns, and she shamefully lowers her eyes. The fabric in her hands is rough and has completely unraveled from her restless fingers.
Alicent steps back, looking at the two of them, expertly pulling on the mask of the Queen. The hems of her gowns rustle, and then the door closes with a thud, hiding her hunched, retreating back.
The mattress behind her dips: he smells of wine, and the pillow is pale burgundy and wet. A hand – not hers – slowly takes the embroidery from his tight grip. Goosebumps rise on her skin as Helaena turns to meet his gaze, to notice the hand stroking her thigh.
Her brother smiles: he so rarely came out as winner, that now he basked in the glow of victory.
"Should I go?" she asks quietly.
"Stay," he whispers hotly in her ear.
1×9
"Helaena."
His sister doesn't respond, curled up on the floor of the carriage, her eyes wild, full of unshed tears. She’s breathing so heavily it’s as if she just returned from a fast ride on Dreamfyre. Aegon rolls his eyes involuntarily: he’s being crowned, led to the scaffold, and his sister is acting as though she’s the one walking into an inevitable war.
"Get up. We’re almost there. If they see you like this..."
She interrupts him, clutching his leg, her nails digging in, making him hiss in pain. Aegon should be angry, should be irritated, should turn away — like he’s done dozens of times before.
"They’re inside the walls! Aegon, you have to stop them!"
He exhales deeply in response, pulling her off him. The carriage slows. Her words are just noise, a string of incomprehensible phrases. But the fear — the fear has always been real.
"Stop them how?" he says bitterly. "I tried, you know I did!"
Guilt for suggesting to flee without her, without the children, rises in his throat. It tastes bitter and rots in his stomach unpleasantly. So Aegon looks away in shame.
"We have a duty. And we must fulfill it."
Everything they ever did was for duty. Each time, their mother promised there would be a reward, but only disappointment followed after.
He can hardly believe he’s the one comforting her. Like that night Aemond lost his eye: it was drunken, bruised Aegon, who had to calm Helaena down. Until she fell asleep curled against him on the narrow bed, her hair tickling his face.
His voice is unusually gentle, and he lies — because he’s afraid too. He’s afraid when he helps her to her feet. His legs tremble as he helps her out of the carriage. A single tear slips down his cheek before the scaffold. His fingers twitch nervously as their mother crowns his sister, and his lost gaze meets hers — filled with resignation.
And only when they fly above the city, followed by the cheers of the people, does Aegon feel relief at her smile.
Now she is his Queen.
Helaena has calmed down, and that must mean her words meant nothing...
It must?
2×1
Children’s laughter rings in her ears before she even enters her chambers, unexpectedly meeting her husband. In his arms is their daughter, happily swinging her legs while clutching a toy — a black dragon with big teeth. Jaehaerys holds onto his father’s cloak, marching proudly behind him. Lately, the boy had been imitating him in everything, which sometimes brought a smile to her lips and warmth to her heart, and other times — concern.
" … mom won’t mind," he trails off, spotting her in the doorway.
Her brother’s eyes widen in mock horror, while Jaehaerys giggles. Aegon hides a smile as he adjusts his daughter more comfortably; mischief sparkles in his lilac eyes.
"And where are the princess and prince off to?" he plays along.
Jaehaerys steps forward, his little face resolute. "To the Dragonpit. To our dragons," he tugs at the edge of the cloak to draw attention. "Father said Sunfyre will let me climb on him!"
He nearly bounces with impatience, and even if Helaena wanted to stop their little outing, she has now completely surrendered under their pleading looks. When three pairs of eyes are begging her — there is no other outcome.
Helaena steps closer to them, kissing her daughter’s cheek, lightly brushing her lips against Aegon’s cheek — so close their breaths mingle, and something unfamiliar flickers across his expression. She leans down, gently touching her son’s forehead, fingers instinctively smoothing stray locks.
"Just be careful. And come back for dinner."
The children smile happily, babbling something about "dragon race", while her husband throws a thoughtful glance on her leaving the chambers. Helaena leans to the cage with grasshoppers, missing his look.
2×3
The room is swallowed by a welcoming darkness, enveloping the figure by the fireplace in an embrace of light. The fire crackles; the brother quietly weeps, only his shoulders shaking, his fingers nervously fiddling with his wedding ring.
She freezes in the doorway, seeing him so vulnerable for the first time. Helaena never knew how to comfort others; no one in their family knew how to process emotions, opening up – even worse. For a few seconds she hesitates, her hand reaching involuntarily for the door handle, then falling resignedly to her side. The word “duty” is sharp on her tongue. She rustles forward in her skirts, stepping closer, disturbing his solitude.
Aegon’s face is red from tears, trails glittering in the firelight. She shudders, seeing her son’s features, and in that same instant wants to flee — but his defenseless, needy gaze holds her in place, her feet rooted to the floor.
They are both silent: frozen figures on a board, and a step must be taken forward.
"Hel..."
His voice cracks like broken glass underfoot.
She nods, closing the distance with one last step. For the first time, he breaks down, pulling his sister to his hips, burying his head in her stomach seeking warmth, his hands gripping her legs tightly. Her palms find themselves involuntarily in his tangled platinum hair. He smells of wine.
She doesn’t know what to say, so she remains silent. What could they say to each other? “Sorry I let it happen, sorry I didn’t listen"? “Sorry I didn’t stop them”?
“Sorry we were both born”?
Bitter tears run down her cheeks, falling onto the crown of his head, and Aegon shakes as he pours his pain into her core. There, where once she carried twins. Where they were supposed to stay — safe and away from the cruel world.
2×4
Too little air in her lungs, the bells toll too loudly, and the guards behind nervously shift, sensing something inevitable coming.
Slightly drunk, her brother looks at her with mocking amusement — she had tried to block the way to the Pit. If not for the gravity of the moment, he might have found her worry even charming.
“Helaena, return to the castle.”
She shakes her head silently, her face etched with a terror as if death were reaching out behind him, flames consuming flesh and licking at feet, ready to snatch her too.
Aegon dismisses her strange behavior as usual.
“You can’t leave us!” Her voice cracks, lower lip trembling.
The faint roar of Sunfyre reaches his ears, and that’s enough to push him forward.
“You know what they forced me to do! I’m the King, and I know nothing of war. I sit idle on their counsel, we could have already destroyed the enemy! Before…” He cannot finish, stumbling over his words, his voice revealing pain, his boiling hatred.
She shakes her head, clutching green fabric in her hands, descending the stone stairs to look into his eyes. Her cold, pale hand finds his. For a few seconds, Aegon truly hesitates, his gaze softening — but only for a few seconds.
“It will be alright. I will return. As soon as I have avenged our son.”
Helaena pulls back; unshed tears glimmer in her eyes — he does not listen. Never listens.
“Broken. And you will leave me again.”
His brows furrow, his body stiffens in the armor, sweat trickles down his back. Aegon has no patience for such things.
His sister looks upward, seeing something unknown to the ordinary eyes. He follows her gaze, but sees there's nothing, only the clear sky, and he sighs irritably.
Trying to soothe her, he grips her shoulders, forcing her to look at him — his own face twisted in fear. The reflection of Aegon’s fear, but his is hidden so well that no one will ever find it.
“I will return. And we will win,” he asserts firmly — more to himself than her.
His warm lips touch her cold forehead one last time. She trembles, clutching him unusually tightly, forcing him to order the guards to take the Queen to safety. This time, Aegon is the one missing her glance — filled with inevitable despair.
2×5
The usual silence of the room, filled day and night only with the methodical sound of stitching and the man’s rasping breath, is suddenly broken by a cough.
Helaena jerks her head up; the embroidery slips onto her lap, the chair creaks against the floor. The rasping fades as abruptly as it began. His injured hand reaches through the pain toward their daughter. The little girl watches her father thoughtfully, seeming to understand far more than the parents thought she did.
Her husband’s face is twisted in agony; he shifts on the sheets and hisses, yet stubbornly pulls trembling fingers to the little girl — as if she were the only thing that mattered, as if nothing else existed around them except her.
“Jaehaerys?” He calls hoarsely, guttural.
The name shatters ribs, tears the heart out. His voice holds an eternal pain — the aching wound of a parent who has lost a child.
Helaena shudders, unaware of the tears streaming down her cheeks until they fall onto her fingers — like the son’s blood on that fateful night that stained her sister’s crib.
“Jaehaerys?” He calls again, voice breaking with hope, nervously running his shaking fingers through the daughter’s hair, long as her brother’s.
They are so alike.
“Jaehaera,” she wants to correct, lips parting but making no sound. If she had the chance to see her son for just a second — she would give everything.
So Helaena does not shatter his dreams.
Their daughter wraps her tiny hand around her father’s finger, naively turning toward the door, expecting to see her twin brother, but her face falls. The girl returns to her silent play. In her hands a wooden dragon takes flight, another one falls onto the soft blanket. A forgotten toy of the pony rests beside her father’s burnt leg.
Aegon sinks again into restless sleep.
Helaena thinks she would rather have died that night.
2×6
He started to come to his senses: at first it was just brief moments, then those moments turned into hours. Aegon was silent, sometimes staring at some spot in the room, sometimes watching how her threads passed through the fabric, creating beautiful patterns — how her confident fingers differed from his trembling ones.
She sees how much pain he’s in, how he suffers, but she stays silent, merely remaining by his side. Not offering help. Her brother would have hated that.
“You do know I have a personal guard?”
His voice is hoarse, barely audible, only because she’s sitting so close to him. She feels the heat of his body with her legs, as if dragonfire was still coursing through him.
Helaena freezes, then slowly raises her eyes to meet his empty, yet deeply revealing gaze.
“I know.”
A short, dry reply. Her pricked fingers tighten the stitch on the golden-pink dragon. He sees the embroidery and swallows hard. Helaena, on the other hand, feels the heartbeat of a wounded dragon in her chest.
“Then why are you guarding me? Mother…”
He can’t finish, pointing instead at the goblet of water: he’s asking it now. She doesn’t hesitate and leans over him, trying not to disturb the wounds. Moistens his dry lips, helping him drink. Her brother winces, as if he expected wine.
“Did she force you? I’ll tell her to…”
Their similar eyes meet — words have always felt foreign between them, yet they understand each other far too well. Painfully well. In their lilac and violet eyes lie oceans of dragging pain and fear.
She shakes her head no, hands unconsciously fidgeting with her dress’s fabric. Helaena sees so much, and at the same time — so little.
Aegon drowns in his own memories. Neither will ever share them with the other.
She nods silently, and everything returns to the familiar routine: the sound of stitches and the crackling wood in the fireplace.
2×8
“The King is gone, Your Grace.”
Her guard is clearly afraid — the city is left without a ruler. But Helaena is calm, she nods meekly, having long accepted the outcome. It was meant to be this way.
“A shame I won’t be able to give it to him,” she whispers, her fingers tracing the dragon on the handkerchief she has just finished.
The green fabric will be found blood-soaked beneath the Queen’s body.
oh man! there's so many answers to this. they could be anything. you could go with the sophisticated version.. that being that they are still rich and are born into money. which i do like ofc! but i prefer my modern day helaegon a bit grimey if im being honest. like, trailer trash, their mama was a junkie type beat. i threw together some quick mood boards for you anon.
i imagine aegon is a major loose canon, he's a small time drug dealer and has a bad coke habit. he's definitely been arrested more than once and has seen his fair share of bar fights. the only soft spot he has is for his family, especially his little sister.
helaena on the other hand, is a quiet girl ofc. she draws and reads a lot. prefers to spend her time out in the creek behind their trailer, finding cute little creatures. when aegon joins her occasionally, he sits there in silence while she explains to him all about her new friends lol.
he comes home drunk, a lot, and ends up in her bed. whether he's fucking her brains out or just cuddling her, mumbling nonsense. she's just happy when he makes it home. 🖤
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