"We're going to land now," Helaena warned Jacaerys as she signalled her dragon to land. Dreamfyre flapped her wings and slowly came down upon a flat meadow. Jacaerys investigated the place they had landed on, but his eyesight could only see a blinding mist surrounding them. They could do nothing but to dismount and search the area by feet.
"Where have you brought me, Helaena?" Jacaerys asked as he bent over to inspect the wet grasses on the meadow.
"I only heeded Lord Larys' words," Helaena answered somberly, "I did not know it would take us to a place like this."
Jacaerys sighed in tiredness, "Ah, no matter. We must walk forward, perhaps we would be able to find an inhabitable place nearby." Helaena nodded as she beckoned Dreamfyre to come with them. They walked through the mist. The wind, breezing through the air, whispered along Jacaerys' ears as the rain began pouring down. Dreamfyre grunted in the annoyance of feeling the falling rain on her scales.
"We should find a shelter soon," said Helaena, "Or else we might catch cold!" Jacaerys hummed in agreement. They walked for ten minutes until they heard a voice.
"Halt!" a man ordered them. The mist began to fade away as Jacaerys and Helaena followed the man's voice. When they reached him, they encountered an enormous ruined castle burnt and derelict but withstood against the sand of time nonetheless. There could only be one castle with such a description, and that was Harenhall.
Jacaerys turned to the guardsman before him, "I am Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and I have in my company Princess Helaena Targaryen. Open the gate for we wish to take shelter here from the rain."
"At once, my prince," the guardsmen bowed and then turned to the watchmen upon the gate, "Open it!" Slowly, the dusted gates of Harenhall opened to Jacaerys and Helaena as they walked through it with Dreamfyre. No one minded the presence of the dragon—or if they did, they dared not speak a word. Helaena eventually had to leave Dreamfyre in the courtyard as she and Jacaerys entered the old castle.
The dim light of torchlights lit the halls of Harenhall. From small windows, pieces of the daylight shone into the castle and candles put on round tables gave away a mystical approach in the narrow entrance hall that they were walking through. Jacaerys ran his hand on the walls and felt the glory of the yore reigniting through him. Bastard or not, one thing was clear to him: he belonged to Harenhall, whether as its lord or a master-at-arms or even a simple knight. Jacaerys was of Riverlands, not a Targaryen dragonrider. Though he wouldn't dislike the idea of keeping Vermax to himself.
"Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and Princess Helaena Targaryen!" Jacaerys' thoughts were disturbed with frustrated pain as he heard the name he was most known with—Velaryon. Nevertheless, he and Helaena entered the great hall of Harenhall with the announcer declaring their names.
There was a throne of three colours—blue, red, green, the colours of House Strong—placed on the middle of the hall. It was a tall, Jacaerys noted, challenging even the Iron Throne itself in height. Well, good for me, he thought, at least I can convince mother that without the title of 'King' I would still get a throne for myself.
No one sat on the Strong Throne, because it was Lord Lyonel's right by the laws of god and men to possess that seat. Speaking of his grandsire, Jacaerys thought about how a conversation with him would go down. Would he love him as Lord Corlys does? The stern and unmoved looks he gives him, that is. Or would he be more King Viserys? Futile brooding, Jacaerys thought. The important thing was that no one sat on the throne, but instead there was a chair besides it and a man was sitting on it, though, when he saw Jacaerys and Helaena approaching, he instantly raised.
"Esteemed greetings to the royal brood of his grace the king," the man greeted them, "I am Ser Simon Strong, Lord Lyonel's uncle and his steward, and on the behalf of the hand of the king and the staff of this castle, I bid you welcome to Harenhall." Jacaerys felt his heart broke at seeing his great-uncle and being unable to open his arms and embrace him. Although, he did not know him enough to hug him and that made him even sadder; why was he denied from knowing his family all this time?
"Greetings to you also, Ser Simon," said Jacaerys, "Your brother the hand speaks well of you, so does his son, Ser Harwin. We are honoured to make your acquaintance." How Jacaerys wished he could be informal to his great-uncle.
"As I am, my prince," Ser Simon retorted. Jacaerys could not help but hear a remorseful tone in his voice and he sympathised with his uncle on their grave and strange situation. So strange, in fact, that he could laugh at it hollowly. "May I ask the reason for your arrival in our humble castle?" he asked.
Jacaerys opened his mouth to answer but Helaena interrupted him, "The mist led us here, ser," she lied, or at least Jacaerys thought she did. Perhaps Lord Larys meant for them to land in somewhere else but Dreamfyre could not fly in the mist and so they landed here? "We would like to sojourn here, in your castle, if you would allow us," she continued.
"Of course, of course. You are very welcomed to stay in Harenhall as long as you'd like," his great-uncle answered, "Would you like me to write a letter to the crown princess or the hand of the king regarding your arrival so that they wouldn't worry over where you are dwelling?" Jacaerys knew why he didn't say the king or the queen and only mentioned Lord Lyonel, but he dared not to speak the reason even in his mind.
Helaena looked at Jacaerys, struggling and failing to find any words to refuse Ser Simon. Jacaerys decided to speak, "No need, Ser Simon. I'm sure my mother expects a letter telling her of our arrival in our main destination. Telling her that we would stay temporary in Harenhall would be of no worth." He hoped he had not insulted Ser Simon with his words.
His great-uncle raised an eyebrow, but decided to not continue with the letter question anymore, "Very well," he beckoned one of the servants, "You will stay in the guest chambers of the castle. Alys here will lead you there." From a corner of his eye, Jacaerys saw a girl of six and ten namedays, dressed in crimson red clothing, dashed to Ser Simon and stood beside him.
"My lady," Jacaerys greeted her.
Alys and Ser Simon exchanged looks before she turned to Jacaerys and Helaena and smiled at them, "My prince, princess, I gather you have travelled here empty handed?"
"We have a dragon with ourselves," said Helaena, "But worry not, she will not cause any harm."
"Then follow me, please," she said as she began walking towards them and then passing them to an unknown destination. Jacaerys and Helaena exchanged confused looks but nonetheless went to follow their guide.
They walked through the halls of Harenhall to an open verandah which had a view towards the gardens. "What beautiful gardens you have, my lady," Helaena commented while a smile grew on her face and her eyes shone in delight.
"Oh, thank you, princess," said Alys, "Although, I should mention, I am no lady. I'm only Alys Rivers, the bastard of Harenhall." Jacaerys instantly began sympathising with her, after all, he was a bastard too. Bastards know bastards.
"Oh," Helaena expressed her understanding, her tone of voice was one of rue and commiseration, "Are you a servant?"
"The servant wench, they call me," she laughed at her epithet, "I'm one of the few servant girls around here. I'm more hardworking and diligent then my peers, so worry not, Ser Simon has chosen someone qualified to perform as your personal servant."
Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, "Personal servant? We will stay here for a short amount of time, there's no need for a personal servant to assist us."
She looked at him, and Jacaerys saw her eyes shining with mischief, "Oh, I assure you, my prince, this sojourn of yours will not be quite temporary as you would like." Just as Jacaerys was about to ask her about the meaning of her words, she spoke again, "Here we are, your chambers, my prince and prinecss," she gestured to two separate doors, each opening to enormous rooms even big for Jacaerys who had enjoyed the comforts of big bedchambers in King's Landing all his life.
"These are our chambers?" he asked, "These look more like a great hall divided into two rooms."
"You're right to guess as such, my prince," said Alys, "These chambers were once united as one great throne room, where Haren the Black held court every day, albeit he was not as righteous in his approach as your grandsire the king is. Many say in his last moments before becoming boiled by dragonfire, he cursed Aegon the Conqueror and all his kin with every word he could muster, naming seventy gods—both Westerosi and Essosi—as witnesses to his curse."
Jacaerys widened his eyes at the tale. Why would you tell us something like that, he wanted to ask but before he could even open his mouth, Helaena interrupted him, "Do you think a curse dwells in Harenhall, Alys?" she asked with curiosity.
"I wouldn't know, princess," Alys answered as she opened one of the doors for Helaena, "But mayhaps you could find an answer while sleeping in the room tonight?"
Helaena did not seem dismayed by her suggestion, "What an appealing idea," she said as she began walking into the room, closing the door once she entered it.
For a moment, neither Jacaerys nor Alys spoke. He could feel her eyes studying him, reminding him of Lord Larys' disturbing eyes. He decided to speak then, "I gather my room is the other one?"
"Yes," said Alys, "Would you like me to give you a tour about your chambers, my prince?"
Jacaerys frowned in confusion. He wondered why anyone would need a tour about one single room, "I appreciate your kind gesture, but I must refuse. If you would allow me, I would like to rest."
Her smile did not fade, but it was obvious there was no longer any sincerity in it, "As you wish, my prince," she said as she opened the door and then walked away hastily. Her footsteps echoed throughout the hall.
Jacaerys sighed in frustration as he entered his large room. He did not wait to study every part of it and went straight into the giant bed in the corner of the room and slept after two full days of being awake.
Jacaerys awoke again when the light of the afternoon sun shone on his face. Turned out his room had large windows as well, which through them sun could shine like it did in the outside. He sat abed and deeply pondered about the reason he was in this castle instead of being in the Red Keep training with his brother. Why Lord Larys had Helaena fly away from King's Landing? A question he should have asked her in the second they landed on the ground but he did not.
He could ask her now, though, and that made him stand up and walking to leave his chambers. Even though he was not aware of Helaena's whereabouts, he decided to first knock on her doors. There was no answers from the other side and so, he resumed his search.
When he was passing the gardens, he heard a soft singing voice chanting in there with such power that even the halls were dominated by it. He abruptly stopped and looked at the gardens, amidst the flowers and a pond which welcomed birds and frogs alike, there was a Weirwood tree old as the time immemorial. Underneath it, he saw Princess Helaena, leaning on the tree and singing a song in High Valyrian.
Jacaerys did not wish to disturb her peaceful moment, so, he walked as quietly as he could towards her. Entering the gardens, his eyes drifted to a wall on the corner of the garden whereon a golden pothos growing apace, so much that it had passed the wall's height and was now falling down. A rhymester could use that one as a metaphor for all the great dynasties of the history, Jacaerys thought as he sought something else to observe.
He turned towards the pond and looked at the water inside it; it shook slowly on a gentle rhythm, as if it was dancing to Helaena's song. A frog was sitting on one of the rocks inside the pond, who was mostly silent, and only let out a sound at a precise time in accordance to the song, as if he was performing a duet with Helaena. Jacaerys chuckled but instantly put a hand on his lips and hoped that his sound hadn't ruin her song, after all, all voices were lost while she sang and Jacearys did not want to be the one to break it.
He waited for a few minutes longer when her song finally came to an end. She turned away from the face on the tree to look at him, "Good afternoon, Jacaerys."
"Helaena," Jacaerys retorted, "A beautiful song, might I ask what it was?"
Helaena again turned to the tree, "A lament, sang by Daenys the Dreamer when the news of the fall of Valyria reached Dragonstone. It is said that she sang this tone all through the night and the whole castle fell into silence and listened to her singing. Her voice roamed around the halls of Dragonstone."
Jacaerys let the silence succumb between them as he pondered about his ancestor, Daenys the Dreamer. He wondered if she knew of his existence; that someday there would be a bastard who did not to which house he belonged. Alas, if she had warned Aerion the Exiled of her dream, Princess Rhaenyra would have been more careful with choosing her lover. All bastards bear their sires' foolery, Jacaerys noted.
"How do you find the gardens of Harenhall, princess?" he asked, "How do they fare compared to the gardens in the Red Keep?" If Jacaerys was to become the king—or the lord of Harenhall—someday, one of his main goals was to attend to the gardens as much as possible. He did not know the reason for his newfound passion but he wanted to do it. It was only natural to ask Helaena, someone who has not seen any gardens all her life, to ask about gardens.
Helaena looked around, mustering her thoughts, "Smaller than our gardens, for sure, but they welcomed me with open arms, celebrating me even," she looked down at her hands, on which, a flower lied, "Perhaps that's why Lord Larys told me to come here. Alas, he's not here to celebrate this garden with me."
He's absence is a reason to celebrate, princess, Jacaerys thought. "Speaking of the devil," he started, "Can you tell me what Lord Larys said to you in the Dragonspit?"
Helaena hesitated, but eventually answered, "He told me to come to Harenhall. He spoke of the day my destiny would be fulfilled, that in Harenhall I can change my sealed fate."
Jacaerys frowned in concern, "What sealed fate?" when she did not answer him right away, he asked again, "Please, answer me!"
"Nothing for you to worry about," she answered while refusing to look at him, "Do not dwell on matters you cannot understand. I still do not know my visions very well, how do you except me to explain them to you?" She raised up and walked to exit the garden.
Jacaerys lingered on the words she uttered and wondered if he went too far. Of course you did, you silly goose, his mind answered. Immediately after she left, the frogs began chanting in unison and sounds of bugs raised from all sides; the wind breathed through the flowers and the plants and the face on the tree somehow became scarier than it was before Helaena left. Was nature punishing him for disturbing the piece of the Godswood? Jacaerys knew not. What he knew was that he should leave the place without hesitation.
Jacaerys spent the rest of the day brooding over the events in the Godswood and sparring with Ser Simon in the courtyard. In the nightfall, he retreated to his chambers to sleep. He wanted to see if Helaena was sleep but dared not to knock on her doors. When he opened the door to his room, he saw Alys Rivers sitting on his bed. "Lady Alys?"
"Greetings, my prince," Lady Alys smiled, "I was just cleaning your room and thought to sit for a few seconds and catch my breath. I understand your anger and your desire to have me whipped. I would present myself to Ser Simon if you want."
Jacaerys raised his eyebrows, "That's not what I want at all, my lady—"
"You can call me Alys, my prince. There's no need to be formal."
"What?" Jacaerys frowned.
"If you are not comfortable with my name," she paused for a second, "You can call me aunt," Jacaerys barely heard what her last words were.
"Pardon me but what did you say?" Jacaerys wished it was not what he had heard.
"I said call me aunt, or auntie," she shrugged, "Your choice."
Was she his aunt? "So, are you…"
"The bastards daughter of Lord Lyonel, yes."
Jacaerys coughed out of nervousness, "Well, please do not be so informal with me, Lady Alys. I have only two aunts, and their names are Lady Laena and Princess Helaena."
Her wicked smile widened, "You have two aunts, nephew," that words sent shivers down his spine, "One is the princess, and the other is me." Jacaerys did not respond at that, refusing to confirm her aunt's words. She raised from the bed, "I wonder, little nephew, do you find me as enticing as the princess?"
Jacaerys widened his eyes, "What?!" he raised his voice a little bit.
Lady Alys shrugged, "I mean, you are infatuated with her, are you not? I thought if my nephew could find love in his Targaryen aunt, what stops him from finding the same in me, the sister of his father."
Jacaerys felt a vomit was developing inside him, "Please leave this room, my lady."
"You can call me auntie, nephew," she said.
"Out!" Jacaerys exclaimed. She was unmoved by his outburst, only huffed and went out.
Jacaerys took a moment to digest what had just happened. He robbed his forehead and closed his eyes, breathing slowly for a few seconds. Why his paternal family was so crazy too? On his mother's side, he had to deal with Aegon and Aemond and on his father's side, Lord Larys would not leave him alone. Though it seems Lady Alys was joining her brother too. Gods, how he wished for a normal family.
"Greetings, nephew." Jacaerys gasped at hearing the familiar voice. He was afraid to turn around lest his theory would be proven. He did it anyway and gulped at the sight of his worst nightmare, Lord Larys Strong, his uncle, who stood on a corner of the room, conquered by the shadows of a wardrobe, so much so that only his cane and his wicked smile were seeable by the moonlight.
Jacaerys shook his head in futile rejection, "This is not possible—"
"Yet, it is." The sound of his cane's throbs erupted in the room as Lord Larys with all his might crawled out of the shadows.
Jacaerys felt tears forming in his eyes, "You should not be here!"
"But here I am," he retorted, his smile ever growing, "With my cane, and my leg… and my mind."
"But this is not possible! We were on a dragon—"
"Shh, be silent, nephew," he hushed him, "You seem distressed. Sleep, for now. We have much to do."
And Jacaerys beheld as his uncle crawled out of his room while he stood there, unable to move. At that moment, he was the most miserable man on the earth and he could feel bitterness, fear and anger building up in him. As soon as Lord Larys exited the room, he picked his pillow and put it on his face. He then screamed with the most force he could muster. If Helaena spent her voice in singing, he spent it in his screaming. Everyone could hear him with this shout, and yet, none did.