Chapter 1

12 days ago

"Helena? Helena?"

Someone was calling her name. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't remember where she had heard it before. Everything was blurry. There was no pain, no sense of time or place. Was she dead? Probably. She remembered banging on the door, begging someone to let her out. No one had come. She had run out of food and water. Then something had hit the wall. There had been stone and dust everywhere. She had fallen on the floor, coughing. After that, nothing. She must be dead.

"Helena? I need you to drink this."

She coughed as some liquid was poured down her throat.

"Easy now."

Someone stroked her hair.

"You poor girl… I'm so sorry, I should have known…"

She struggled to open her eyes and finally succeeded. The face hovering over her looked familiar, but it took a moment before she recognized him.

"Uncle Tyrion?" she muttered hoarsely.

"Yes, I'm right here, child," he replied, touching her cheek. "You're safe now."

"What… What happened?"

"Thankfully, I found you in time." Tyrion paused and pressed his lips together. "One of your mother's servants told me everything in exchange for a pardon."

"Everything?" Helena murmured.

"Yes. She told me that you were never sick; your mother only said that to explain your absence. She kept you locked up in that tower."

Helena didn't reply. She still wasn't sure if this was real. Maybe she was dreaming, or maybe she was dead.

"Mother… Where is she?"

Tyrion bowed his head and took her hand in his.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but she is dead. So is Jaime."

Helena's eyes widened, and she stared at her uncle in disbelief.

"Dead? How… That can't be…"

"It's true," Tyrion stated quietly. "I'm sorry."

Helena was too confused to say anything. Her mind was desperately trying to understand everything. Her mother was dead. How should that make her feel? She didn't know. She should have hated her mother. At first, she had, but as days had turned into months and months into years, something had changed. She had become numb.

After fearing death every single day, she had stopped caring. After everything that had happened to her, she hadn't feared death anymore. What about Uncle Jaime then? Should she mourn for him? He had never wronged her, but he had never cared for her either, not the way he had cared for her siblings. Of course, she knew the reason for that now: he had fathered her siblings.

She, on the other hand, had been fathered by the man Jaime had despised. When she had been a child, many people had said that she looked a lot more like a Baratheon than a Lannister. That had been the reason why her mother had never treated her the same way she treated her other children.

"Helena?" Tyrion said after a long silence. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know," she replied truthfully. She glanced around her and noticed that she wasn't in the tower anymore; she was in some strange bedchamber. "Where are we?"

"In a guest chamber," Tyrion replied. "I'll arrange your own chambers as soon as I can…"

"Wait, if my mother is dead… Who is the ruler now?"

Tyrion hesitated for a moment before replying.

"How much do you know about what happened during your imprisonment?"

"I… The servant who brought me food and water sometimes told me what was happening. I grieved for Tommen and Myrcella."

"I'm sorry," Tyrion said gently. "Did you hear about Daenerys Targaryen?"

"Yes. I heard she has dragons and a great army, but she went to the north."

"Yes, she went to fight for all of Westeros. There were creatures called White Walkers beyond the Great Wall. They would have destroyed everything if they hadn't been stopped. Fortunately, we stopped them."

"I see. Is Daenerys Targaryen the Queen now?"

Tyrion looked sad as he shook his head.

"No, she… She died. Our new King is Jon Targaryen."

Helena frowned.

"Who is he?"

"He was formerly known as Jon Snow, the bastard son of Eddard Stark. I think you met him in Winterfell years ago when we all went there with your father. Can you remember?"

Helena nodded. She had been just a child back then, but she did remember.

"I believe so. Why is he called Targaryen now?"

"Because it turned out that he's not Eddard Stark's bastard son. His parents were Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen."

"Oh…"

"He is a skilled soldier and a great leader; he was the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and King in the North."

"He sounds like a good choice for the King then, but I'm not sure if he will allow me to stay here…"

"I have no doubt that he will," Tyrion cut in. "He is a good man, and I believe you are right, he will be a good king. He just needs some guidance with politics."

"I'm sure you can guide him, Uncle," Helena replied. She was overwhelmed by all of this. She wasn't in the tower anymore. Could she leave this room if she wanted to? Did she want to leave this room? There would be people outside. Many people. Could she handle that? She wasn't sure.

"Dear child," Tyrion said, touching her hair. "I'm so sorry I wasn't able to save you."

"It wasn't your fault," Helena murmured. "My mother was the one who… I would just like to know why. What was my crime?"

Tyrion looked tense.

"The servant told me you were locked up after Joffrey became the King. After the rumors about your mother and Jaime started to spread. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"That makes sense. My guess is that Cersei wanted to get rid of you in case someone would claim that you are Robert's only trueborn child and therefore entitled to the Throne. She did try to get rid of all of Robert's bastards."

It took a while before Helena managed to reply; she felt nauseous.

"Why didn't she just kill me?"

"I don't know," Tyrion replied gently. "But I'm grateful she didn't. You are the only family I have left."

Helena struggled to get into a sitting position. Tyrion helped her and handed her a cup of water.

"Thank you," she murmured and took careful sips. The room looked strange after she had looked at the same walls for so long. What was she supposed to do now? She felt utterly lost and hopeless.