Hello, everyone! I apologize for the long chapter, but I did not feel like splitting this into two, so here it is. There will be an author's note, but I will warn you ahead of time that this chapter will be quite bloody, disturbing, and sad. I hope you like it. :)
Author's Note: Blood, gore, mentions of torture, and an execution scene that involves a minor.
King's Landing
"What have I done?" Helaena found herself repeating that question in her head as she traversed through the hallways in search of Rhaenyra. "What have I done? I committed high-treason: I had plotted with my half-sister's enemies to steal her crown. Put my head on the line out of love for my children and grandchildren."
The princess finally found Rhaenyra in the small council chamber on the last, horrible night of the Moon of the Stranger, the night when everything went wrong. Rhaenyra I was still seated at the table when her younger half-sister found her. Rhaenyra was not alone, for there were eight other occupants in the chamber: her three eldest grandsons: Baelor, Aeric, and Daemion; Lord Creighton Bar Emmon, the Master of Coin; Lord Commander Clothair Blackwood, and cousins Sers Robert and Connor Darklyn; Ser Lucias Tarbeck had let Helaena in. The Dragon Queen, who had been resting her head in her hands, looked up once Helaena had entered. Rhaenyra looked exhausted: her eyes were red and dark, and her face looked drawn.
Tear trails glimmered on the queen's cheeks in the candlelight, and she wiped them away as Helaena stood before her. The princess's mouth went dry, and her heart started to beat faster. She wanted to turn around and walk away, but all eyes were on her, and Helaena felt as if her feet were frozen to the floor.
"What is it, Helaena?" Rhaenyra had asked, her voice sounding drained, irritated yet patient all at once. "I take it you have heard what has happened to Thea and her father?"
Hearing Thea's name caused a lump to form in Helaena's throat and for her eyes to mist over. Poor Thea. If it weren't for the Green Conspiracy, Lady Thea Celtigar would still be alive right now and not dead. What caused Palehair to kill Thea? What happened to Lord Bartimos?
Helaena asked that last question, and upon hearing that the Master of Ships had died after he learned of his only daughter's death dealt another blow to the princess's heart. Regret weighing heavily on her soul, words slipped out of Helaena's mouth as tears began to drip down her cheeks.
"It is all my fault. All my fault..."
"How?" Rhaenyra asked confusedly, her eyes narrowing and becoming wary. The men in the room copied their queen's expression as they watched Helaena. "How is this your fault?"
With no way out, an emotional Helaena revealed the Green Conspiracy and confessed her involvement in it, although she lied and said that it was all her doing to protect Falena and Maester Urban. Her confession was greeted with silence. Everyone stared at the princess, stunned and unsure of what to say. Queen Rhaenyra's expression changed from hurt, to coldness, to anger in a short period of time, her face becoming stony and frightening all the while not uttering a single word. Helaena noticed how her half-sister's breathing grew heavier, and she flinched when Rhaenyra rose quickly from her chair.
Helaena closed her eyes and tensed her facial muscles in anticipation of getting slapped. But no slap ever came. Instead, all Helaena felt was Rhaenyra walking briskly past her with the Queensguard, the three princes, and Lord Bar Emmon following her out of the small council chamber. Helaena was all alone in the room after the entourage had left. Alone that is save for the two Valyrian sphinxes that guarded the door to the chamber.
Being the only way in or out of the chamber, Helaena took few steps towards the doorway before stopping between the two statues. Carved out of black marble with garnets for eyes, the sphinxes were both beautiful and intimidating, and Helaena felt small in their presence. Sphinxes were said to speak in riddles, and the princess had a riddle for this pair.
"What should I do now?"
Silence. Neither sphinx answered. Instead, their garnet eyes seemed to hold Helaena in contempt. "Do not dare consult with us, traitor" was what those dark red eyes seemed to convey. Bereft of riddles and lacking the heart to do anything else, Helaena exited the small council chamber.
She could not really recall the trip back to her chambers; it was all a blur to her. Helaena's last clear memory from last night was her falling into her bed and going to sleep. It was the following morning that Helaena learned from her maidservant that she was under house arrest per order of the queen. A guard was stationed outside of the princess's door, the secret passage in Helaena's room was blocked by a heavy dresser that was moved by two strong male servants, and the only people permitted to see Helaena were the members of her household. Helaena spent the whole of the first day of the eleventh moon in her chambers with only her companions, Ladies Walda Bracken and Rhiannon Reyne, and her maidservant for company. Cooped up inside the bedchamber all day left the women with nothing to entertain themselves with but needleworking and small talk, which was often punctuated with long spells of quiet broodiness.
Maester Urban never once called upon the princess, and neither of her remaining grandchildren at King's Landing or Visenya visit Helaena. No doubt they were all forbidden from visiting Helaena by the queen, and Helaena missed them all, especially her children and grandchildren. By the end of the day, Helaena was depressed and despondent. She barely ate her supper that evening, and the princess turned in when the night was still young. Dreaming provided an escape for Helaena by taking her back to the day she last went dragonriding with her family.
It was the twenty-seventh day of the tenth moon. The same day Prince Gaemon the Blind died. Helaena's heart ached at the memory of her firstborn grandson's last day alive, but she could not forget the mirth that was experienced that very same day before nightfall. Flying high amongst the clouds with the wind in her face and hearing the happy squeals of Gaemon, Aegon and Aeva as they enjoyed their flights. Jaehaera was the happiest her mother had seen her since Queen Alicent's murder, and Helaena hoped and prayed that her family would always find felicity in their lives no matter what they were going through.
"Your grace? Your grace?"
A low voice called out, ending the princess's dream. Helaena stirred, her eyes fluttering and her body trembling. Greeting her sleepy vision was the face of Lord Commander Blackwood. He was standing over Helaena with his right hand on her shoulder, which he used to gently shake her awake. Standing behind the lord commander was Ser Connor Darklyn.
Helaena looked at the men with apprehensive curiosity. What were they doing here in her room in the middle of the night? Ser Blackwood answered that question.
"Forgive us for waking you up at this hour, your grace, but the queen requests your presence. Please come with us."
Helaena tensed under the covers, her heartbeat quickened, and a shiver rattled the princess. "Very well," was all Helaena said as she threw the covers off. After putting on a robe, Helaena was led out of her room by Clothair while Connor walked behind her. Both men seemed somber, but their charge was too nervous to ask them what was troubling them. The whole walk was made in silence.
Expectations of meeting Rhaenyra in the throne room, small council chamber, or her solar were dashed the longer the trio walked through the halls. Helaena's anxiety increased tenfold when she and the two knights approached the "Traitor's Walk", which led to the tower that held the Red Keep's dungeons and torture chambers. "Oh gods!" Helaena gasped, the first words she had spoken since leaving her room.
Neither man offered the princess comfort, and Helaena did not see them wince in discomfort over leading her to such a foreboding place. Sers Blackwood and Darklyn did not take Helaena to the tower's upper floors where the cells reserved for highborn captives were, which Helaena would have vastly preferred to over where they were going. Passing the chamber doors of the Queen's Justice, Lord Confessor, and Chief Gaoler, Ser Blackwood opened the two doors that stood at the end of the room that led to the dungeons below. Helaena hesitated before the open doors, afraid to take another step and drawing her robe closer to her body. Clothair entered the stairwell and turned around offering his hand to the frightened princess, who gratefully took it.
A slow and cautious descent was made down the stairs, which felt to Helaena like she was walking into the lair of a vampire or some other wicked creature. There were four levels of cells in this tower, and Helaena's heart sank deeper as she and her escort descended further down. Each level was smaller, darker, and more unnerving than the last, the worst being the third level, which held the infamous black cells. Built by Maegor the Cruel, these cells were cramped and windowless and locked with solid wooden doors to prevent the prisoner from even having the luxury of torchlight to illuminate their gloomy pen. Light deprivation was torture in its own right, but these black cells also lacked beds and even buckets to collect the prisoner's bodily waste, forcing the unfortunate soul to spend their incarceration in abject misery feeling their way from one corner to the next surrounded by new moon darkness and their own filth.
These places were reserved for the very worst of prisoners, but thank the Seven, Helaena was not going to be imprisoned in the black cells. She was being taken to the torture chamber instead. Lifting a torch from a sconce by the door that led to the fourth and final level, Ser Blackwood opened the door and escorted Helaena into the dark hallway. Helaena kept her head down and watched Ser Blackwood's heels as they made their way to the torture chamber. She did not want to catch sight of any of the Lord Confessor's victims in the cells that lined the hall, whose bodies would have been grotesquely broken and mangled.
Helaena looked up when she heard Clothair knock three times on the torture chamber's door. The door was opened by the Lord Confessor's assistant, and the three walked inside. The torture chamber was large and lit with torches, revealing tables, chairs, and the instruments of human depravity. There was a rack from which a man's arms and legs could be stretched with chains to the point of destruction, a brazier that was used to heat brands, pincers, and knives to cause even more pain; a horse shaped device whose back was covered with spikes that a victim was forced to sit on whilst naked, and a coiled whip and an open leather roll of neatly arranged tweezers, knives, razors, clippers and pliers rested on one of the tables. The chamber was thick with fear and the odors of sweat and blood.
Surprisingly, the torture chamber was crowded. Rhaenyra was sitting in a chair against the right-hand wall flanked by the other five members of the Queensguard and the Queen's Justice, Ser Hendry Harte. Grand Maester Thaleus was hovering over a table with the Lord Confessor, Ser Mordred Fell, as they examined someone who was lying on the table, their bodies obscuring Helaena's view. The Chief Gaoler and three of his underlings were situated at the left-hand wall surrounding three figures who were huddled together on the floor: an old man, a boy, and a young woman. Helaena stopped and gaped at those three trembling individuals.
The man was none other than Maester Urban. He was in terrible shape. Urban was sickly looking and in shock, sitting up against the wall still as a statue. Helaena noticed how Urban's hands and feet were wrapped so thickly with bandages that they looked like white mittens and boots that were speckled with blood. "What did they do to your hands and feet, Urban?" Helaena wanted to say, but her eyes were next drawn to the boy.
Helaena did not know the boy, who was Light-Fingered Lyn, the butcher's apprentice tasked to serve as a distraction during the theft of Blackfyre. Lyn looked to be aged no more than thirteen, three years older than Helaena's grandson Aegon. Lyn had looked up fearfully at the princess when she entered the torture chamber, revealing a black eye and a busted lip. Helaena's heart broke for this child, and she wished she could hold him and keep him safe from the fiends who had hurt him. The woman kneeling next to Lyn was Lady Falena Stokeworth herself.
Falena appeared not to have been harmed like her male counterparts, but she was terribly frightened, and Helaena thought she saw Lady Stokeworth trembling from where she was standing. Helaena broke out into a cold sweat. If Falena was here, then where were Maegon and Maegelle? Were they somewhere safe? Were they hurt?
"Bring Helaena to me."
Rhaenyra's voice cut through the silence with the severity of an axe blow. Sers Blackwood and Darklyn escorted Helaena a few feet further until they were in front of Rhaenyra. Helaena froze when she met her half-sister's gaze, which was filled with rage. She noticed how Rhaenyra was squeezing the armrests of her chair, making Helaena feel apprehensive, as if she was standing in front of a coiled viper that was prepared to strike. Surrounded by the queen's men, all Helaena could do was stand wait to see what happened next.
"You got your revenge." growled the queen. Helaena was perplexed by Rhaenyra's comment.
"Revenge? What do you mean?"
"Revenge for Gaemon. An eye for an eye. A grandson for a grandson. My Aelyx, my sweet, darling Aelyx, was killed today by your son's allies from House Peake."
Rhaenyra's lips quivered, and she tightly shut her eyes as tears welled up inside them. Helaena gaped once more, and she rested a hand over her heart.
"What?! What happened?! How did Aelyx die?"
The queen's head rose rapidly, exposing a face red with grief and anger and streaked with tears. Words of wrath flowed like a gout of dragonfire from Rhaenyra's lips.
"Rebellion. Battle. My grandson was killed in battle during a war you and your damnable son and kinsmen have started! Lucerys and Joffrey have been captured, their dragons are dead, and now one of my grandchildren is also dead. And it is all because of you and your coconspirators!"
"Oh, Rhaenyra!" Helaena whimpered, her eyes shining like diamonds, her voice trembling with emotion, and she put both her hands over her heart. "I never thought this would happen! I am so, so sorry!"
"What did you think would happen, Helaena? That all would be well? That everything would be fine after kidnapping my great-grandson and forcing my abdication? How could you be so stupid? How could you be so arrogant? How could you betray me?"
Rhaenyra uttered the last question with a tone that conveyed hurt rather than anger. Hurt that was born from a sister's betrayal. Remorse ripped at Helaena's heart, and she sobbed bitterly into her hands. The presence of the men seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two half-sisters in the foreground. Once upon a time, these two women, who share a father but have different mothers, planned a reconciliatory marriage between their youngest children and shared grandchildren whom they loved in equal measure and hoped would thrive under the peace between the descendants of King Viserys I and Queens Aemma and Alicent.
While never close due to the twelve year age gap between them, the relationship Rhaenyra I and Helaena was lukewarm with some mutual fondness, but that was over now. Whatever affection was shared between the two half-sisters had been snuffed out, leaving a cold, dark rift between them that could never be mended. Rhaenyra's fury ebbed slightly as she watched her half-sister fall apart in front of her. The queen reached out to Helaena with a gentle hand when the princess choked out words that would set Rhaenyra upon her again.
"I just wanted to protect my family. After Gaemon died, I thought-"
"You thought what?!" roared the queen, causing everyone to jump out of fright, even the Queensguard. "You think I had a hand in Gaemon's death? Why would I or anyone else have wanted to hurt him, Helaena?"
"Why would you have your maester examine Gaemon after he died instead of Urban?" countered Helaena. "Do you not trust him?"
Rhaenyra glowered at her half-sister as she tried to come up with a response. "Thaleus is Grand Maester, one of my advisors and above a mere maester. His judgement is to be held in higher regard because of that."
Anger blossomed within Helaena this time, and she snapped at Rhaenyra in a rare moment of hot temperedness.
"You picked Thaleus to take Gerardys's place because he served Lucerys at High Tide! The Conclave is supposed to choose who becomes Grand Maester, not you, Rhaenyra!"
Purple fire flashed in the queen's eyes. She extended her hand again and slapped Helaena across the face with it. The princess fell to the floor holding her left cheek. All eyes were on Helaena as she fell before, the irises soon moving upward to look at Rhaenyra and her hand. The Queensguard stood where they were unable to intervene. They were sworn to protect the royal family from harm, but not from harm that was dealt by one of their own.
Rhaenyra towered over her younger half-sister, fixing the woman with an unblinking, furious stare.
"You have been remiss with your words, Helaena. Remember where you are and mind what you say next if you want to keep your tongue. Ser Fell has broken every bone in your precious Urban's hands and feet with a hammer and scourged this bastard killer's back to bloody ribbons, and on my command, he will not hesitate to rip your tongue out with red hot pincers." Rhaenyra gestured towards the table where Thaleus and Ser Fell were standing at when she mentioned the "bastard killer". Helaena looked up hesitantly and saw the pink soles of Gaemon Palehair's feet at the end of the table.
Morbid curiosity goading her on, Helaena carefully rose to her feet and to look at Palehair. He was in worse shape than Urban. Despite having been scourged, Palehair was lying on his back with bandages wrapped around his chest. Pinkish-red raw gaps where Palehair's fingernails used to be oozed blood. Palehair's face and chest were black and blue and splattered with blood from a vicious beating; both his eyes were black and swollen shut, his lips were split in multiple places, and when Thaleus opened Palehair's mouth to examine it, Helaena saw that the man's front teeth were gone.
Thaleus sighed and shook his head as he surveyed the damage done to Palehair's mouth. He took out a pair of pliers from his own roll of tools, and Helaena looked away when she saw the pliers enter Palehair's mouth to extract a broken tooth. Palehair, who was heavily sedated with milk of the poppy, groaned weakly as Thaleus pulled out jagged pieces of enamel.
"Did... Did Ser Fell do all that to him?" Helaena asked fearfully. Rhaenyra shook her head.
"No. Ser Dorian had the honor of meting out vengeance on this cretin for killing his cousin."
Helaena glanced over at the Queensguard and spotted Dorian from the blood splatter that was on his breastplate. He met Helaena's gaze, and she saw the seething hatred in the man's face. Dorian's eyes were icy and wrathful, and he was clenching and unclenching his gloved fists, which were also bloody from smashing in Palehair's face. Ser Celtigar's wrath did not abate when he saw Helaena, and she turned away, guilt filling her once more.
"Look at what your actions have done, Helaena." Rhaenyra said, her voice calm and formal. "You may not have stolen Blackfyre, you may not have stabbed Lady Thea Celtigar to death in front of her own children, but you consented to the plot that led to all of this. My Aegon lies upstairs alone and devastated in the bed he and Thea once shared. Their children will now have to go through life without their mother."
Helaena's head fell to hide how her face was contorting with pain. An unsympathetic Rhaenyra continued.
"And now war has come to the realm all because you agreed to help your family of usurpers in trying to overthrow me..."
"It is all my fault!" cried out Urban, startling the assembled crowd. "I was the one who put the suspicions about Prince Gaemon's death into Princess Helaena's head. I am at fault here, not her!"
"And I was the one who hired Palehair and Lyn to help Princess Jaehaera with carrying out the plot," added Falena. Rhaenyra gazed contemptuously at Urban and Falena, nodding her head with her arms akimbo.
"So, Helaena, is what these two have said true? You confessed to me in the council chamber last night that it was only you who masterminded this plot. Are they trying to protect you, or were you protecting them earlier?"
Helaena, rendered mute by horror and tragedy, could not say anything. An overwhelming sense of emptiness came over the princess. It was as if nothing mattered anymore. That is, until Rhaenyra made threats towards the members of her half-sister's circle.
"Answer, or I will have Falena's throat slit from ear to ear," the queen whispered threateningly, "Render her two bastards motherless just like her hired killer did to Oswyn and Rhaenyra. Or if you want your grandchildren to be spared of that tragedy, I can put every member of your household to the sword-"
"It's all true!" Helaena blurted out. "What Urban and Falena said is true. They helped me... They helped me help Jaehaerys..."
Rhaenyra stepped away from Helaena as she heard her confess the truth. Urban, Falena, and Lyn seemed to sink further into the floor as the weight of the ramifications of what had gone on in the torture chamber meant for them. Everyone had confessed. Helaena was the first to blab, but she had lied. Palehair and Lyn were the first to tell the truth, then Urban and Falena, and finally, Helaena herself confirmed the involvement of her and her coconspirators.
Their fates were sealed. Knowing full well that she had forfeited her head to the Iron Throne, Helaena got down on her knees before Rhaenyra with her hands clasped together and pleaded to her older half-sister's better half.
"Rhaenyra, hear me, please. I am a traitor. I have betrayed you and your family, and for that, I am truly sorry. If anyone deserves to lose their head, it's me. Please do not execute Maester Urban or Falena.
They only did what they did because I told them to do it. Please do not bring harm to Maegon or Maegelle for they are only children. Please do not punish the members of my household. They are innocent and were not privy to my machinations against you. Please, don't hurt anyone else..."
The Dragon Queen considered her half-sister's pleas. She gestured towards Lyn and asked, "What of this boy here? He helped your daughter to steal Blackfyre."
"He should most definitely be spared," Helaena replied while nodding. "He is only a child."
"And a traitor of the crown," retorted Rhaenyra. "Stole a symbol of sovereignty for a usurper to use against me." The queen then pointed at Palehair. "And what of him, Helaena? Do your pleas of mercy include pardoning a murderer as well?"
The princess was at a loss for words. Palehair would not be in this situation had he not been hired by Falena, and yet, he did take a life, Thea's life. Helaena felt guilty for being the root cause of the man's situation, but she discovered that she could not forgive him for what he had done. Taking her half-sister's silence as proof of her forgiveness not being entirely inclusive, Rhaenyra declared the following.
"Your companions and servants will not be harmed, Helaena, and neither will Falena or her children. Lady Stokeworth and Maegon and Maegelle will become hostages to the Iron Throne. But I am afraid to say that your maester and Lyn, the boy, will not be spared from punishment. Palehair will of course share their fate."
Helaena felt deflated somewhat. She was relieved that Falena and the twins were going to be spared, but she could not save the lives Maester Urban or Lyn. They would both suffer alongside Palehair in a painful and gruesome execution for committing treason. Rhaenyra saw her half-sister's disappointment, but she felt no pity, only contempt. She called out to Sers Blackwood and Darklyn, commanding them to take Helaena back to her chambers, ordering Ser Glendon Goode to do the same with Falena.
Just like the night before, Helaena had no real recollection of the journey back to her room, nor of when she finally fell asleep after lying down on her bed. When Helaena's maidservant tried to rouse her the following morning, Helaena rudely told the woman to go away and let her sleep, which she did, and the princess slept in until noon and stayed in bed for the rest of the day. She barely ate and did not take a bath for two days until the morning of the fourth day of her house arrest. It was that day that Helaena, Urban, Palehair, and Lyn were to be tried and sentenced. The trial took place in the throne room and was presided over by Rhaenyra I, Baelor, Clothair, Creighton, and Thaleus.
Palehair and Urban were tried in absentia due to them still recovering from the injuries they received when they were being tortured. Like it would have made a difference if they were present or not. The trial was for show. It was all about the sentencing and the outcome was a foregone conclusion. The defendants had all confessed, and the prosecution's sole star witness was Lady Stokeworth, who (reluctantly) testified about her involvement in the Green Conspiracy.
All four defendants were found guilty and sentenced to death. Urban, Palehair, and Lyn were to be executed by being hanged, drawn and quartered. Helaena was to be beheaded. Ser Hendry Harte, being the Queen's Justice, would oversee the executions of the three men, and would be the one to sever the princess's head from her body. Gasping could be heard coming from the audience when Helaena was sentenced to death.
Despite Helaena's crime, many had thought that Rhaenyra would spare her half-sister by forcing her to join the silent sisters or being sentenced to spend the rest of her life under house arrest, but clearly that wasn't the case. There was also the historical significance of Helaena becoming the first princess in Westerosi history to be executed. The executions were to take place next week but separately. The men were scheduled to die on the eleventh day of the eleventh moon, whereas Helaena, being a member of the royal family, was given one more day to live, and she was set to die the day after Urban, Palehair, and Lyn on the twelfth. Before the trial was adjourned, Rhaenyra offered her half-sister the grim choice on how she wanted to be beheaded: by axe or by sword; Helaena chose the latter.
Eight days. One-hundred and ninety-two hours. That was all the time that was left to Princess Helaena Targaryen, who had lived for one and forty years. She knew that death was coming, but still, the fact that her life was to be cut short so soon knocked the poor woman for a loop. Helaena had thought she would live for at least two more decades before departing this veil of tears, and she had hoped to be surrounded by her loved ones as she laid on her deathbed.
Ironically, Helaena was going to be surrounded by people on the day of her execution, they just would not be her full-blooded relatives. Despondent and wistful, Helaena spent yet another day in bed after returning from her sentencing. She was irritable again the following morning, but she received a surprise. Her grandchildren had come to see her. Little Rhaenys was carried in by Lady Elinor Massey, one of Visenya's ladies-in-waiting and the wife of Ser Mordred Fell (a fact that was obviously not disclosed to Helaena), and Falena arrived with Maegon and Maegelle.
"Grandmama!" squealed a happy Rhaenys when she saw her grandmother. She held out her little hands towards Helaena, who rose from her bed and took Rhaenys from Elinor to wrap the child in a big hug. "Rhaenys!" cried out Helaena as she held her granddaughter, enjoying the weight of her granddaughter's body in her arms and seeing her big purple eyes and silver-gold curls.
"Grandmother!" called out the five year old twins as they ran towards the princess's bedside. Maegon and Maegelle climbed up onto the bed and were swept into their grandmother by her free arm for a group hug.
"My darlings!" Helaena said joyfully as she held her youngest three grandbabies. It felt so good to see them and to hold them. If only Gaemon were still alive, if only Aegon and Aeva were still there at the Red Keep. Those three may not have been at the Red Keep, but the presence of Rhaenys and twins Maegon and Maegelle more than sufficed for their absence.
The children's presence breathed new life into the princess, and for the first time since before the Moon of the Stranger, Helaena felt truly happy. She got out of bed, changed out of her nightclothes, and she joined her grandchildren in the Red Keep's godswood under the watchful eye of Ser Glendon Goode of the Queensguard. Venturing into the godswood revealed another happy surprise for Helaena. Princess Visenya was there. She was seated in a chair under the boughs of the heart tree surrounded by red dragon's breath flowers cradling her belly (Visenya was near the halfway point of her second trimester).
"Visenya!" Helaena called out excitedly. "How are you? How is the baby?"
"I have been faring well, Helaena," answered Visenya, being careful not to say, 'in spite of recent events.' "The baby has been doing well, too. He's been moving around like he should be." Helaena sighed with relief. "Good." It felt wonderful to hear good news for once.
Helaena sat in the chair that was provided for her, and both she and Visenya watched as Maegon and Maegelle played with Lady Massey's children as Rhaenys toddled around the flowers and picked the smokeberries that grew in abundance on the vines that covered the heart tree like a mantle. The two princesses chitchatted here and there, but this meeting was silent for the most part. The elephant in the room was too big to ignore. Visenya did not dare ask her mother-in-law how she was feeling over her impending doom, and Helaena could not bring herself to ask if the Blacks had received any word about her children, or any news outside of King's Landing in general. But the silence did give Helaena the opportunity to ponder the important issues that come with coming to terms with death.
What kind of legacy will she leave behind? Who will be Helaena's heirs and what would they get? How will the inheritance be bequeathed since a conflict had just broken out? When should the grandchildren be told that their grandmother's days were numbered? Why did this have to happen?
Helaena shook her head and clenched her hands into fists as grew more upset with each difficult question she asked herself. But she had to ask herself these questions because her mortal affairs had to be put in order before the twelfth day of the eleventh moon. Helaena vowed to herself to get as much done as she possibly could before her execution date, and she would. The meeting ended once Visenya returned to her chambers with Rhaenys after she complained of feeling tired, and Helaena set to work right away as soon as she returned to her own room. Requesting parchment, inkpots and quills, Helaena began drafting her final letters.
She wrote to her children in Oldtown, telling them how much she loved them and how proud she was of them regardless of what they had done and whose side they were on. Helaena left letters addressed to her grandchildren for them to read later which expressed her love for them and apologizing for her not going to be there to see them grow up, marry, and have children of their own. In these letters, Helaena reassured her loved ones, telling them not to be sad when she was gone, for she would be with Aegon and Gaemon, her parents and grandparents in the Father's golden hall where there was no sorrow and pain, only mirth and happiness. When the letters were done, Helaena gave the ones addressed to her children and Aegon and Aeva to Walda for her to pass on to her maester to send out. Rhiannon was charged with giving the letters addressed to Rhaenys, Maegon, and Maegelle to their mothers to hold until their little ones were ready to read them.
Helaena kissed each letter after folding or rolling them, sealing them with her love, before handing them off to her companions. Drafting a will was easy. The princess's wealth was to be equally distributed among her children, although Jaehaera would receive all of her mother's clothes and jewelry. But this would only happen if the Greens were to somehow win the revolt. If the Blacks won, then the entirety of Helaena's estate was to be bequeathed to Visenya and whatever one of Helaena's children and grandchildren who had survived the conflict and were not exiled or imprisoned.
Writing letters and drafting a will took up most of Helaena's time, and what free time she had left she spent either with her grandchildren or praying. Septa Loretta, who had been a longtime retainer of Helaena's and a former minder of her children, provided much spiritual guidance and comfort to the princess as her final day drew nearer. Religion was also on the minds of Maester Urban, Palehair, and Lyn in the dungeons below. A septon had been regularly visiting the men as they waited for their sentences to be carried out. The holy man prayed with them, comforted them, and took their confessions so that the men could die unburdened by any lingering regrets.
While the condemned readied their souls for divine judgment, their executioners were preparing to put an end to the quartet's lives. Knives, an axe, and the great-sword wielded by the Queen's Justice were sharpened; ropes, firewood, and straw were gathered; a block and cushion were fetched, and two scaffolds were being built – one outside of the Red Keep's walls for Urban, Palehair, and Lyn, and one inside the castle before the Iron Throne for Helaena. It was a small mercy that the coconspirators were imprisoned far from the throne room, otherwise they would have gone mad from hearing the construction of the platforms where they would die. The King's Landing chapter of silent sisters were ready to receive the quartet's bodies after they were executed to prepare them for burial. The week was going to be busy enough for the Stranger's wives, who were attending to their usual workload; which included embalming the bodies of Lord Bartimos Celtigar and his daughter, Thea; but they were not the complaining type.
Days seemed to pass by at an anxiously slow pace, and yet the dates of execution arrived quickly. Such is the nature of time. Urban, Palehair, and Lyn were executed at noon on the eleventh day of the eleventh moon. The grown men, who were still recovering from their injuries, were carried out of their cells on stretchers. Lyn was led out of his cell on his own two feet by a chain attached to a neck collar like a slave.
The sun was shining bright when the prisoners were led out into the Red Keep's courtyard. Deprived of sunlight for so long made the men's eyes sensitive, and they covered their faces with their hands. Waiting for Urban and Palehair in the courtyard were two wooden hurdles that were tied to individual horses. Urban and Palehair were transferred from their stretchers to the hurdles, where they were then bound, and their clothes cut from them. Lyn bowed his head to avoid seeing the nakedness of his employer and the maester, though sadly he had to march behind them.
The gate opened, and everyone could hear the increasing volume of the excited crowd outside of the walls. The horsemen urged their steeds on, and the procession to the scaffold began. Wood bouncing off cobblestones could be heard as the hurdles were dragged behind the horses, a noise that was soon drowned out by the jeering and excited cries of the spectators once the condemned passed through the gate. "Murderer" and "traitor" were shouted at the men as they passed, and some people even threw stones and rotten produce at them. Urban howled with pain after an apple struck one of his broken hands, Palehair was apathetic to what was going on around him, and Lyn was on the verge of tears.
The procession made a loop around the square so that the gathered crowd could get the chance to taunt, berate, and pelt the condemned before their executions. Minutes passed by at a hellishly slow pace, dragging out the trio's suffering even more. The scaffold itself was small, but it seemed to loom over procession like a vulture. Lyn's heart felt as if it were going to run right out of his chest as the procession closed in on the scaffold and wall. The scaffold was reserved for Lyn: it was small with room for three people only, built up against the castle wall with a large chopping block resting on top of it; Urban and Palehair were going to be leant up against the wall on their hurdles.
Ser Hendry Harte and one of his assistants stood on the scaffold, and there were six other men standing beside the wall. All the men were dressed in black from head to toe with masks covering their faces. A bonfire was burning a safe distance away from a pair of ladders that were leaning up against the wall where the hurdles were going to be placed. Three nooses dangled from the parapets above. Queen Rhaenyra and her heir, Crown Prince Baelor, were observing from that same battlement with some of the Queensguard, small councilmen and other courtiers, and two members of House Celtigar: Clement, who was now the Lord of Claw Isle, and his cousin, Ser Dorian's older brother, Arthor.
Once the procession reached the scaffold, Lyn broke off from it and was forced up the steps to meet his fate. The horses stopped and the hurdles were untied and propped up against the castle wall. The crowd whooped and hollered at the condemned, their excitement over the coming bloodshed palpable, and they barely paid any attention to their queen's proclamation regarding the three who were about to be killed that day and them making a public confession to their crimes: passing on information to the enemy (Urban), murdering a member of the royal family in an attempt to kidnap another (Palehair), and theft of royal property to aid an enemy of the crown (Lyn). When asked if they had any final words to share, Urban, Palehair, and Lyn did not say a word. The nooses were fitted around their necks shortly thereafter.
Lyn was the first to die that day. He was made to kneel before the block after the noose was placed around his neck. Hendry's assistant, a tall, burly man, stood behind Lyn and held him by his arms. The palm of Ser Harte's right hand was resting on the bottom of a long shaft that belonged to a large axe. It was a headsman's axe, but it would not be taking off Lyn's head, not yet anyway.
Pickpockets were punished by having a hand chopped off. Because Light-Fingered Lyn had pickpocketed a guard to help with the plot to steal Blackfyre, he was going to lose both his hands. "Put his hands on the block," commanded Ser Harte. The assistant stretched Lyn's arms out on the block so that his hands were hovering over a basket placed there to collect the severed limbs. Ser Harte lifted the axe over his head, and without hesitation, brought it down on Lyn's wrists. Most of the onlookers cheered when they saw Lyn's hands fall into the basket and heard him cry out, though some, mostly women, flinched and shed tears for the boy as he suffered.
Lyn's cries of pain were dammed up by the noose tightening around his neck and he was hoisted up the wall by a hangman on the battlement. The boy struggled for a few moments before strangulation and blood loss snuffed out his life. "Lyn!" Palehair cried out through swollen gums, tears cascading down his cheeks. "Lyn!"
Urban looked away from the awful sight, his own cries of pain having been reduced to tears of anguish. Leaning his axe against the wall, Ser Harte walked down the scaffold steps and approached the ladder that was next to Urban's hurdle, stopping to unsheathe his dagger before climbing the ladder. Seeing the ladder next to him tremble with movement broke what little was left of Maester Urban's sanity. He screamed and leaned his head back to look up at Rhaenyra.
"Damn you, you bitch! You Maegor with teats! You queen of whores!"
Urban's cursing was cut short by the noose tightening around his neck. He sputtered and thrashed about in his bindings until oxygen deprivation slowed Urban's movements. The maester was still conscious but weak when Ser Harte aimed the tip of his dagger at Urban's groin area. Palehair looked away and shut his eyes tight as Maester Urban roared in agony as the Queen's Justice performed his gruesome job. He kept his eyes shut through the duration of his coconspirator's agony, and Palehair's eyes fluttered open when the maester fell silent amidst the deafening cheers of the bloodthirsty crowd.
Palehair slowly pivoted his head to his right only to swiftly avert his gaze when he saw the bloody, mutilated and hollowed out body of Maester Urban, who had been castrated and disemboweled while he was still breathing. The organs had all been tossed into the bonfire below, the last being Urban's heart, which had still been beating as Ser Harte sliced and removed pieces from the poor man's body. Palehair was next. Queen Rhaenyra had wanted to save "the best for last". Palehair was the most hated out of the three male coconspirators, and the gathered crowd shouted abuse and taunts at him.
"Murderer!"
"Bastard!"
"May you die in agony, you worthless wretch!"
Palehair trembled on his hurdle, and he hoped and prayed that his wife and daughter were not in the crowd. He lowered his head and whispered a prayer. "Seven Above, please show mercy to my family. Give them the strength to endure this. Provide them with good health, happiness, and fortune after I die. Please, don't let them suffer. Please..."
The sound of someone climbing up the ladder caused Palehair to tremble in fear. The end was nigh. Death was soon at hand. Palehair shut his eyes again and started praying for the deliverance of his soul when the noose was tightened around his neck and he was hoisted up from the hurdle. The rough fibers of the rope constricted the man's neck and squeezed his windpipe shut like a dry reed pinched between two fingers.
Palehair struggled, trying desperately to breathe, but no air could enter his lungs. He was on the verge of blacking out when the noose's grip was loosened. Palehair gasped and took in a deep breath that felt and tasted so wonderful. But his relief was short-lived. Palehair opened his eyes only to meet the glare of his executioner.
It was not Ser Hendry Harte who had come to carry out Palehair's sentence. The man was wearing a mask, but Palehair knew who it was by eye-color. Hendry had brown eyes and Mordred had hazel ones; the executioner here had blue ones. Ice blue. The eye-color of Ser Dorian Celtigar of the Queensguard, the cousin of Palehair's murder victim, the man who had brutally beaten Palehair in the torture chamber the night after Thea was killed.
"No!" shouted Palehair when he realized Ser Celtigar's identity. "No!" Dorian's glare hardened and he draw out his dagger. Palehair squirmed and screamed like a trapped animal on the hurdle, his scream reaching a fever pitch when Dorian plunged his dagger into his chest.
Dorian glared furiously and contemptuously at his victim. Spurred on by Palehair's agony, Dorian twisted the dagger and pulled it out of Palehair to stab him again and again all over his upper torso like Palehair had done to Thea. The crowd cheered even louder as they watched the blood pour down Palehair's ruined chest. The highborn audience in the battlements above watched as Dorian exacted his revenge on Palehair with somber, muted pleasure. Once he had sated himself on stabbing Palehair, Dorian sliced off the man's genitals and slit open his belly and chest to pull out his internal organs one by one, saving the heart for last, and throwing the viscera into the bonfire to burn.
Blood coated Dorian's right arm up to his elbow by the time he finished off Palehair, and there was red splatter on his shirt and vest. Killing the bastard was cathartic for Ser Celtigar, but his sorrow and anger remained. He looked up at his kinsmen up on the battlement, and Clement and Arthor both nodded in approval to Dorian. Quartering and beheading the three bodies came next, and Dorian was given the honor of further mutilating Palehair's body with an axe. The heads of Lyn, Urban, and Palehair were all mounted on the Red Keep's gate on stakes, and their body parts were put on display on six of the city's seven gates save the Gate of Gods to serve as a warning to all traitors.
Helaena spent the first half of that bloody day indoors to avoid hearing the crowd cheering on the executions. She spent that time praying and reading passages in The Seven-Pointed Star that were recommended to her by Septa Loretta. A quarter past twelve that afternoon, Ser Glendon Goode entered the princess's bedchamber and informed her that the executions were over and that she could see her grandchildren, who were waiting for her in the royal garden. Helaena's mood lifted immediately upon hearing that, and she clapped her hands in delight and put away her Seven-Pointed Star so that she could go see her grandbabies. Maegon and Maegelle ran towards their grandmother when she arrived in the garden with her escort, and Helaena embraced the twins tightly in her arms.
Rhaenys toddled up to her grandmother with outstretched arms, and Helaena released Maegon and Maegelle so she could pick the little girl up in her arms and spin her around in a warm hug. Watching this heartwarming scene were Princess Visenya and her companions, Lady Massey, being one of them, and Lady Falena Stokeworth. Visenya and Falena exchanged happy but teary-eyed glances as they watched Helaena play with their children for the last time. Visenya almost said no to going to the garden today with her daughter because she didn't think she could bear to watch her dear mother-in-law playing with Rhaenys and the twins on what was going to be her last full day of life. Yet Visenya knew that she would not forgive herself if she had chosen to avoid Helaena; her baby felt strong, and Visenya decided to chance it and be with her half-aunt.
The eleventh day of the eleventh moon was blessed with sunshine and good weather. Helaena played with her grandchildren all day. They played hide-and-seek, tag, and monsters-and-maidens. When Helaena and the children rested, they all sat under the shade of a tree. Helaena had thought of sitting with her daughter-in-law and Falena, but something told her that she shouldn't.
No doubt the women were upset over her impending execution, and Helaena did not want to suffer through forced small talk, questions about how she was feeling, or anyone bursting into tears. She wanted to enjoy the felicities she felt while in the presence of her grandchildren. Helaena's felicity continued even after she stopped playing with the children later that afternoon to have supper with them and their mothers in Helaena's spacious room. A table and chairs had been set up, and the women and little ones enjoyed a quiet meal together as dusk approached. The older princess had grown quieter as her last evening closed in, but she still tried to maintain a happy front for her companions and kin.
Helaena brought the children with her to watch the sunset from her veranda. Golds, reds, and pinks dyed the clouds as the sun sank further down the horizon and as darkness creeped in. It was so beautiful, but so sad for Helaena. This was the last sunset she would ever see; why hadn't she ever noticed just how lovely they were before she was condemned to die?
Rhaenys yawned in her grandmother's arms and rested her head on Helaena's shoulder. Maegon and Maegelle caught their cousin's yawn, and they too yawned and shook their heads. It was time for them to go to bed. Helaena offered to put the children to bed. She followed Falena and the twins back to what was once Jaehaera's bedchamber, where they were being held as hostages of the queen.
Helaena knew at once that her daughter's room had been randomly chosen to serve as Lady Stokeworth's prison, it was deliberate; it would make Jaehaera irritable to no end if she knew that her brother-husband's mistress and their bastards were staying in her room. But none of that mattered now. Helaena tucked Maegon and Maegelle into their bed, pulling the covers up to their chins and kissed them on their foreheads, wishing them both a good-night and that she would "see them later." Suppressing the surge of emotion she was feeling as she said good-bye to Maegon and Maegelle, Helaena rose from their beds and met Falena at the door. The princess did not like the fact that Falena was her oldest son's mistress, but she was a mother, and Helaena took her hands into her and spoke to her one more time.
"Please take care of the children, Falena. Don't let them mourn me for long. Stay strong. You will all persevere and know better days no matter what happens."
Falena pursed her lips as she tried to contain herself, and she squeezed Helaena's hands. "We will," she said with a nod and a choked-up voice. Giving Lady Stokeworth a reassuring squeeze and a sad smile, Helaena bid her farewell and departed for Visenya's bedchamber. Falena threw herself on her bed and buried her face in her pillow after the princess left. Saying good-bye to Visenya was even sadder.
Visenya couldn't hold back her tears when Helaena embraced her one last time and touched the apex of her pregnant belly. She couldn't really feel the baby moving through Visenya's nightclothes, but the knowledge that he or she was safe and sound in their mother's womb comforted Helaena. She brought her face down to Visenya's belly and whispered, "Good night my little grandson or granddaughter. Look after your mother and big sister for me. I wish you a long, happy and fulfilled life, little one."
Rising and patting the princess's belly one more time, Helaena carefully lifted the sleeping Rhaenys from her mother's bed to take her to her nursery. Rhaenys exhaled softly on her grandmother's shoulder, and Helaena delighted in feeling the warm, soft breath on her skin as she carried the little girl to her room. Rhaenys whimpered a little when Helaena deposited her into her crib, but she settled down and stuck her thumb into her mouth as Helaena tucked her in. "Sweet dreams, little one," Helaena whispered as she rubbed her hand through the toddler's curls. Planting a good-night kiss on Rhaenys's left temple, Helaena took her leave, stopping at the door to look at her granddaughter one last time before shutting the door behind her.
Night had fallen and the torches lit the hall as Helaena walked slowly back to her chambers with Ser Goode and Ladies Bracken and Reyne following closely behind her. Each step the princess made seemed heavier than the last as the gravity of what she was going to leave behind weighed on her. Helaena kept herself together until she reached her bedchamber. Once the door was closed and Ser Goode had left, Helaena collapsed on the floor. She was caught by Walda and Rhiannon, who knelt down on each side of Helaena to comfort and weep with her.
Wiping away their own tears, the two women helped Helaena back onto her feet and helped her change into her nightclothes and put her to bed. Walda and Rhiannon crawled into bed on both of the princess's sides to comfort her until she fell asleep on her last night on earth. Helaena's slumber was dreamless and fitful until exhaustion finally granted her peace in the hour of the wolf. She awoke the following morning grim but calm. It was a little past sunrise when Helaena woke up, but seeing the rays of early morning sunshine lifted her spirits somewhat.
Wanting to see the rising sun, Helaena apologetically roused Walda so that she would get up and let Helaena out of bed so she could go out to her veranda, which Walda did. Helaena walked briskly out onto her veranda and watched her last sunrise. Pale golds, pinks and blues colored the sky this time, and Helaena was so glad that she got to see the sun both set and rise for the last time. Once her desire to see the morning sun rising over the horizon was sated, Helaena left to get dressed in her final outfit, which was going to be a surprise for her half-sister and was going to be covered up by a great black cloak. Helaena's maidservant styled her hair into a braided bun, which was then covered with a white coif.
The mood in the chamber was somber and heavy. Septa Loretta was brought in by Lady Bracken after Helaena was dressed, and the women, including the maidservant, waited out the morning hours praying and contemplating death. Helaena went over everything she had done over the past eight days. She had written her will and final letters, she had spent time with her grandchildren, and had said good-bye to her beloved Dreamfyre the day before yesterday. Everything was in order, and all that was left for Helaena to do now was to wait for the hour of her execution to arrive.
Fifteen minutes before noon, a knock was heard at the door.
"Your grace," the voice belonged to Lord Commander Blackwood, "it is almost time. Ser Darklyn and I will escort you to the throne room now. Are you ready?"
Clothair's words seemed to suck all the air out of the room. Helaena stared at the door and calmly said, "Yes, I am ready. You may open the door."
The door opened, and the women rose. Helaena bid her maidservant farewell and took one last look around her bedchamber before she departed with her companions and septa. It was a long walk to the throne room. Helaena walked with her head bent down and her hands clasped together in prayer. She prayed to the Seven Above and contemplated the passage in The Seven-Pointed Star where it declared that lives were like candle flames snuffed out by an errant puff of wind. This analogy comforted Helaena somewhat by reminding her on how all life was short and delicate, and that her impending death was just a natural part of the circle of life; death was nothing to be afraid of.
Helaena stopped praying when she saw the knights' heels rest on the floor. Looking up, Helaena saw the oak and bronze doors that led to the throne room. Two guards opened the doors, and a flood of bright sunlight washed over the six. "Right this way, my lady," Clothair said gently, his words a politely thin-veiled command. Helaena, who had shut her eyes against the light, opened them and allowed for them to adjust.
The group entered the throne room. A small crowd consisting of courtiers, members of Houses Celtigar and Darklyn, the royal family a select few of highborn members of King's Landing's upper echelons congregated around the Iron Throne where the Dragon Queen was sitting. A wooden scaffold stood before the Iron Throne. Standing on it were three people: Ser Hendry Harte, his squire, and a septon. Helaena was taken aback by the sight of the scaffold, but she kept walking towards it despite her apprehension. "Lives are like candle flames. Lives are like candle flames," repeated Helaena to herself as she and her escort drew closer to the scaffold.
Sers Blackwood and Darklyn parted and stood on each side of the four steps that led up to the scaffold. Helaena regarded the stairs for a moment, sighed deeply, bunched up her cloak and skirt in her hands, and surmounted the steps. Despite her fear, Helaena remained calm and composed. A low hum of murmuring rose from the crowd as some people whispered amongst themselves about how impressed they were by the princess's demeanor. Rhaenyra fidgeted in the Iron Throne as her half-sister walked onto the scaffold.
Helaena's eyes, meanwhile, were fixed on the cushion that rested in the middle of the scaffold. It was made of rich purple velvet and lined with gold fringe and tassels. A semi-circle of straw was scattered around the front of the cushion. Helaena then looked around at the people who were gathered to witness her execution, who, except for the Queensguard, were all wearing black mourning clothes. She recognized most of them.
The Queensguard, of course. Mysaria, Lord Bar Emmon, and two men whom Helaena did not recognize. Rhaenyra's two youngest sons and Viserys's wife, Lady Myrine Darklyn, and four of the queen's grandsons: Princes Baelor, Aeric, Daemon, and Corlys. Helaena's two half-nephews stood with their members of their wives' families. Her heart broke when she saw Aegon the Younger.
Aegon looked awful. He was pale, his eyes were dark, sunken, and empty; his face drawn, and it looked like Aegon had lost some weight as his black raiment looked baggier. Gone was the warm, soft-spoken and amiable man who was at his happiest when with his lady wife and their children. All that was left of Prince Aegon the Younger was the mournful, empty shell that was now standing in the throne room to witness his half-aunt's execution, the woman whose actions had inadvertently led to his beloved Thea's death. Aegon held Helaena's gaze for only a moment until she couldn't bear to look at him anymore and looked away out of guilt.
"Princess Helaena Targaryen." Helaena looked up in the direction of her older half-sister, who had called her name. "The hour of your execution has come. Do you have any last words to say before you..." Rhaenyra hesitated briefly to reconsider what she was going to say next, "welcome oblivion?"
Helaena nodded. "Yes. I do." Casting a cursory glance around the crowd again, Helaena gave a speech. Her words rumbled through the now quiet throne room and echoing within the dragon skulls that hung on the walls, who seemed to be watching the princess.
"Today, I, Princess Helaena of House Targaryen, have come to die. I have been sentenced to death for the grievous crime of treason. I plotted against my half-sister, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen the First of Her Name, the firstborn of our father the Young King. Rhaenyra," Helaena placed both her hands over heart, and she changed her tone from formal to apologetic, "I know that no number of apologies could ever make up for what my actions have done to you and your family, nor will they bring back those who have died because of them..."
The crowd shuffled uncomfortably. Aegon shut his eyes and lowered his head. Daemion balled his hands into fists, which was noticed by a distraught Aeric, who laid a hand on his brother's back to soothe him. Baelor glared at his half-grandaunt, his glare being one of sorrow and simmering anger. The princess continued on with her speech.
"I cared for you all, I truly did. You were all good to me and my family despite all the bad blood between us during father's reign. Our children and grandchildren played together; my youngest son married your only daughter. We were all doing so well..." Helaena's face fell as the weight of the family's tragedy descended on her.
Disaster had been averted twenty-one years earlier thanks to the Black Conspiracy, but this time, another round of the game of thrones played by a new generation of schemers had managed to undo all of the progress made during the Dragon Queen's reign to unify the dynasty. Helaena removed her hands from her chest and let them hang over her thighs. What she said next was spoken with a tone that grew with quiet strength.
"Sister, please understand that my crime was not committed out of malice, but out of love. I love my children and grandchildren fiercely; all I want, what any mother and grandmother wants, is to keep her family safe from harm. As mothers, Rhaenyra, we instinctively put our offspring first, and that is what I did."
Helaena then raised her arms slightly, making herself look like a bird frozen in mid-flight. Walda and Rhiannon walked up to her on que, and they carefully removed the princess's cloak. Beneath that cloak was a simple green dress. Confused murmuring and outraged hissing could be heard coming from the crowd when the dress was revealed. Rhaenyra tightly gripped the armrests of the Iron Throne, cutting her hands, but rage had deadened her other senses as she took in the sight of her younger half-sister's scandalous dress.
Green. Green like the gown Helaena's mother had worn at the Tourney of 111 AC, an article of clothing whose color became the name of the party who supported the claim of the late Aegon the Elder in opposition of Rhaenyra's. Like mother, like daughter, Helaena's clothing had an effect on people. She was showing her support for her treacherous children and their allies before the Black court! Emboldened by her most brazen act, Helaena resumed talking.
"Jaehaerys and Jaehaera may be traitors in the eyes of this court, but they are my son and daughter, and I will always love them no matter what. Aegon and Aeva, and Maegon and Maegelle are innocent of their parents' crimes and do not deserve your wrath, Rhaenyra, as much as Lady Thea and Aelyx did not deserve to suffer what they suffered at the hands of my children's allies, and it is for their deaths that I too shall be delivered unto the Stranger soon. Today, I die.
I die today as a princess and a traitor, but also as a mother and grandmother." Helaena looked towards the light shining through the alcove windows behind the Iron Throne. It was as if the Seven themselves were in the Great Hall that very moment waiting to receive the condemned. "To the Father Above, I commend my spirit. Farewell to you all."
Helaena looked away from the windows and let her eyes fall on the cushion where she was to die. The septon approached her with an open Seven-Pointed Star in his hands ready to give Helaena her last rites. After the final sacrament was given, Walda and Rhiannon walked up the princess to take her hands into theirs – Walda took Helaena's right hand, and Rhiannon took her left. Hand in hand, the three women walked over to the cushion and helped her to kneel down on it. Helaena squeezed her companions' hands gratefully and tearfully; all three women were lachrymose.
Lady Walda Bracken, after releasing the princess's hand and dabbing her eyes, walked behind Helaena and pulled something out of her left sleeve. It was a white blindfold. Helaena flinched slightly when Walda placed the blindfold over her eyes and tied it behind her head. Rhaenyra squeezed the armrests harder when she saw how her half-sister flinch, and the queen's blood began to seep onto the blades. Her anger towards Helaena had been replaced with sorrow; sisterly sorrow and remorse.
Heedless of the blood or the pain, Rhaenyra watched the execution unfold from her perch. Helaena was whispering her final prayers as Ser Harte retrieved his sword from his squire. Hendry quietly crept up behind Helaena on her right. Every eye was rapt on the pair – the executioner and the condemned. Leveling the sword at Helaena's neck, Hendry lined the blade up at the right place so that it could cleanly slice between the vertebra.
Hendry then drew his sword over to his left. All eyes were on the blade. People breathed harder. Sweat slickened palms. Tears welled up.
Pooling his strength into his arms, Hendry swung the sword. Rhaenyra looked away just as the sword reached Helaena's neck, her eyes closed and her hands all but crushing the armrests. The blades of the Iron Throne cut deeper into Rhaenyra's fingers, and she felt the pain this time, causing her to hiss through gritted teeth. Grimacing as she held up her lacerated, bleeding hands, Rhaenyra forgot her pain when she heard two thuds coming from the scaffold – a small one and a big one. The sound of a woman wailing cut through the air just as the Queen's Justice's sword had cut through Helaena's neck.
Rhaenyra glanced over and saw Rhiannon embracing the sobbing Lady Bracken. Septa Loretta and the clergyman were praying. Seeing movement in her peripheral vision, Rhaenyra looked down and was horrified by what she saw. Ser Hendry Harte was standing over the straw holding up the severed head of Princess Helaena Targaryen in his left hand. He shouted, "Behold, the traitor is dead! Death to all those who defy her majesty, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen the First of Her Name! Long may she reign!"
It was over just like that. All the traitors in King's Landing were dead, as were all the hopes and dreams of a united dynasty. Deep crimson blood pooled into the straw from the princess's cleaved neck. This blood reminded everyone in the throne room that day of the great bloody rift that spanned between the Blacks and Greens now. Rhaenyra contemplated both her half-sister's blood and her own, which was pouring down her hands from the cuts on her fingers. All the blood spilled so far had all been for the Iron Throne, and not even the queen was safe from it.
It was maddening. A peal of disturbed laughter broke the silence in the throne room. Everyone looked up and were horrified to see their queen laughing madly as blood streaked down her wrists. "Fire and Blood" are House Targaryen's words, and by the gods, the Seven Kingdoms had seen a lot of that over the span of thirty-nine days. Unfortunately for the realm, their future would contain nothing but fire and blood for as long as a divided House Targaryen continued tearing itself apart.
I find it fitting that this was published two days after the last episode of season 1 of House of the Dragon aired. War has come to Westeros. There is no going back now... Helaena's execution is based off of three historical executions:
1. Queen Anne Boleyn - Helaena was beheaded with a sword like Anne was on May 19, 1536. Both Helaena and Anne died while kneeling upright, and they were also given the choice on which weapon they wanted to be beheaded with: an axe or a sword.
2. Mary, Queen of Scots - Helaena's green dress was inspired by the red dress worn by Mary on the day of her execution on February 8, 1587; red represents martyrdom to Roman Catholics. She wore mourning clothes over the dress, which her ladies-in-waiting removed when Mary was on the scaffold. Mary was also blindfolded by her lady-in-waiting, Jane Kennedy, like Helaena was by Walda Bracken. Helaena and Mary were both executed indoors, the latter having been beheaded in the great hall of Fotheringhay Castle in Scotland. King Charles I of England, Mary's grandson, was also beheaded.
Even Helaena's last words were modeled after Mary's, which she spoke in Latin and translated into English was "In thy hands, oh Lord, I commend my spirit." I got inspiration for Helaena's execution from the YouTube clip showing Mary Stuart's beheading from "Elizabeth: The Golden Age" (2007).
3. King Charles I - Helaena got to say good-bye to her grandchildren like Charles was able to say farewell to his youngest two children, Princess Elizabeth and Prince Henry, before his execution on January 30, 1649. I wonder if Charles ever thought of his grandmother Mary during his last days. All three royals met their ends calmly with great dignity and grace like Helaena did.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it, and I apologize if this chapter seemed rushed. I am going to take a break from the story for a bit so that I can work on my BloodRayne remake. I will work on my third appendix for RotDQ, and I hope to get that out in the near future. Don't worry, I will be back in due time. I thank you all for your patience and patronage! :)