Violent Tides - Chapter 10: The Tourney and Future Betrayals

Aelora could hardly contain herself as she sat in the carriage with her family as they made their way to the tourney grounds.

She rode with her parents and grandparents, Jacaerys had been deemed too young to go to the tournament as he would need more supervision so he, Daeron, and Aemond had been left in the nursery. Her brother had cried as he watched her preparing to leave but Aelora had promised she would describe every moment of the event.

“Wow.” Aelora whispered as she and her family exited the carriage and made their way up to the viewing box.

The royal viewing box sat in the center of the arena with the viewing boxes for the other nobles sitting on its sides. Across the field were rows of benches and wooden platforms for the commoners to watch the tourney from.

Aelora soon left her parents’ side, moving as fast as she could towards the front of the viewing box, sitting in the first row were Aegon and Helaena.

“Egg, Helaena!” Aelora cheered, “When did you get here?

“Mother said we had to be early; royalty cannot be late for anything.” Aegon said, glowering at the thought of his mother’s words.

“Are your cousins going to sit with us?” Helaena asked as her niece sat in between her and Aegon.

Aelora shook her head, “They were made squires, for Lord Celtigar, I think.”

Aegon looked at Aelora incredulously, “What would an old man like Bartimos Celtigar have to teach them.”

“Not him, his son.” Aelora replied.

Aegon was still not impressed, not hearing the heir to Claw Isle doing anything of note. Even his father was often overlooked when compared to the other rulers in the Crownlands and Narrow Sea.

The prince shuttered at the thought of being sent away to squire in a place as dreadful, insular, and small as Claw Isle. He just hoped that if he ever did have to become the squire of a knight that Viserys and Alicent would choose someone who lived in the capital.

“Who do you think will win?” Aelora asked the other two.

“Ser Criston, of course.”  Aegon said with a grin, viewing the Kingsguard and his mother’s sworn protector as the strongest knight in the realm.

Helaena was more focused staring at the clouds in the sky, “Bones that shatter, snap and bend, A symphony of pain, without amend. In triumph's glow, a victor stands, with scornful gaze, he taunts his foe, a cruel jest, a bitter blow.”

Aelora looked at her aunt confused, “What does that mean?”

Aegon twisted his nose at his sister, “Just ignore her, Lora. She’s been talking mad for a while now.”

“Helaena’s not mad.” Aelora interjected, hating when anyone spoke ill of Helaena.

“I’m only saying that she is constantly mumbling strange things under her breath, when she is not playing with her bugs and avoiding touching everyone. She has never been normal.” Aegon argued.

Aelora crossed her arms, “Normal is boring.”

“Alright, I get it. Helaena being strange is good.” Aegon said pleadingly, wanting to end the argument before it could begin.

Aelora hummed, turning to her aunt, “Will you be fine with everything, Hel?”

Helaena gave her niece a beautiful smile, “I will.”

Aelora, reassured, returned to looking down at the arena floor, her excitement evident as she waited for the event to start.

~X~

Alicent sat with a passive expression as she watched the melee occurring below the viewing box. She had never found much enjoyment in tourneys, not seeing the point in the senseless violence that they inspired but knew better than to make these feelings known.

She had given Criston her favor before they had left the Red Keep, seeing him as the only man worthy of wearing it and knowing that no one else would dare ask the Queen for it, especially not in the presence of her husband.

And while she did not enjoy watching grown men bludgeon each other, after seeing Harwin Strong saunter up to Rhaenyra, asking for her favor in front of everyone, practically flaunting as he received it, Alicent could not say that seeing the man bleeding in the dirt would be the worst thing.

It angered her just how brazen and arrogant Rhaenyra was with her actions, how she held the title of Crown Princess, yet she cared little for how said actions affected the realm.

And despite blatantly having an affair, birthing a bastard, and being pregnant with another, she is still the one that lords of the realm had to bow and swear fealty to, including my son. Alicent thought bitterly.

Alicent lowed her gaze when she noticed Helaena flinch from the corner of her eye. The young princess had flinched and jumped whenever the violence of the day had gotten too much, and the roar of the crowd had gotten louder. Alicent knew that Helaena should not have been brought but was forced to concede when Viserys said that she worried too much, that Helaena would be fine.

At first Alicent had wanted to rush down and pull Helaena into her arms, soothing her daughter and reassuring her, but she did not have time to decide when she saw Aelora gently take Helaena’s hand into her own, rubbing the back of it and speaking softly to her.

Aelora would keep doing this, and Alicent could not deny the tiny spark of jealousy that formed in her heart as Helaena never let her mother touch her the way Aelora was.

As the Queen continued to watch the youngest princess, she thought back to the conversation she had with her uncle after the fealty ceremony.

Alicent had barely entered her chambers before a commotion could be heard outside, and moments later Criston entered, saying that her uncle Hobert, her aunt Lynesse , and her cousin Ormund were asking to speak with her. 

“Let them enter, Ser Criston.” Alicent ordered.

Lynesse and Ormund strolled in calmly unlike the Lord of Oldtown whose anger was palpable with each step he took.

“Uncle Hobert, Aunt Lynesse, cousin. Was there something you all needed?” Alicent asked, already having an idea of what they were here for.

“Has your husband gone mad?!” Hobert roared, glaring at his niece.

Ormund sighed and sat down on one of the parlor chairs, “As you can see cousin, my father has been rather wroth since the... proceedings ended.”

Hobert tuned towards his son, “Don’t you even start, Ormund!”

Ormund put his hands up in a defensive manner, but the smile on his face ruined the image of innocence he was trying to create.

The heir to Oldtown looked much like his father did in his youth, he was tall and broad with the traditional Hightower red hair and dark brown eyes. He was also a good fighter, being seen as worthy of carrying the Hightower’s ancestral Valyrian steel sword; Vigilance.

She cared for him, but despite his better qualities, Alicent often found herself annoyed by her cousin’s inability to act his age, still walking through life as if he were still a young boy instead of a father of three.

“To make all the lords of the realm along with their heirs come and swear fealty to that whore a second time. Not only her but that disgusting freak she calls a daughter?!” Hobert started up again, finding himself more offended than he ever was before.

“The King still fails to see reason, niece. Even in the light of his eldest daughter’s sins.” Lynesse said far more calmly than her husband, taking a seat next to her son. 

“My husband will see the truth, once it becomes impossible for him to ignore and as Aegon continues to grow into a proper heir.” Alicent argued.

Hobert scoffed, “The same heir that bowed down and swore fealty to his sister. The realm watched this; how would we be able to spin this in our favor?”

Alicent resisted the urge to pick at her fingers, meeting her uncle’s gaze. “All the lords of the realm swore fealty to Rhaenyra and her daughter, that does not mean that these vows are binding. Those who bowed know who the true heir is.”

“Let us just hope that our fool of a King realizes this before our family is forced to suffer even more embarrassment.” Hobert said, speaking in his normal volume for the first time since arriving in Alicent’s chambers.

Alicent did not expect to find herself caring for Aelora as she has come to in the years since her birth, thinking that she would dislike the girl on the principle of being Rhaenyra’s daughter.

Aelora did remind her of Rhaenyra in some ways; they were both fearless, mischievous, and wore how they felt on their sleeves. But to her, Aelora had a compassion and thoughtfulness that Alicent felt Rhaenyra sorely lacked, especially once they grew older.

But now after the ceremony, Alicent for the first time was seeing Aelora as a threat to her sons’ claim. Despite what she had told Hobert, Alicent noted that not all the lords who gave their oaths appeared to have a problem with Rhaenyra remaining Viserys’ heir, nor with Aelora being second in line.

Would Aelora grow to be like Rhaenyra? Would they both turn the other way while my children are put to the blade so they can remain in power? Alicent thought.

Alicent continued to watch as her son and daughter interacted with Aelora, Aelora pointed to the arena, saying something to them that caused Aegon to laugh and Helaena to stare at her.

The sooner Rhaenyra is disinherited, the less time she has to build support, and the more time people will have to get used to Aegon as heir before Viserys passes. War will become an improbability, no one will fight for Rhaenyra once it becomes clear that Aegon is his sister’s better. If Viserys is so keen on giving Rhaenyra a title, then give her Dragonstone to rule in her own right, Aelora can still be her heir and her son could inherit Driftmark, the bastard can have it for all I care.

Alicent was pulled out of her thoughts when the sounds of the crowd drew louder, when she refocused, the Queen noticed that Criston and Harwin were the last ones left standing.

The two knights slowly circled each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. After a few moments, Criston charged at Harwin, bringing down his Morningstar only for Harwin to block the strike with his shield.

The Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks used his strength to push the Kingsguard back, even though both were clad in armor, Harwin still bigger than Criston, his massive and redoubtable figure was more than evident.

Once he had pushed his foe backwards, Harwin ran at him, knocking Criston to his knees with a backhanded strike of his shield. Harwin tried to bring his sword down upon him, but Criston rolled out of the way, causing the blade to become embedded in the muddy ground due to Harwin’s strength.

Just as Harwin pulled his sword out of the dirt, Criston slammed his Morningstar into the upper portion of Harwin’s chest. It was hard to see his reaction through the helm he was wearing, but Alicent knew that despite their size difference, Criston was quite strong, so Harwin had to be in a lot of pain after taking such a blow even with his chest plate covering him.

The heir to Harrenhal let out a fierce roar, throwing his shield to the side and once again charging at the other man. He once again tried to backhand him only for Criston to skillfully dance out of the way, he then tried to deliver a punch to the face, but Criston weaved to the right and brought his weapon down on Harwin’s outstretched arm, hitting his elbow.

Harwin cries were cut short when Criston used this distraction to land another hit against him, kicking him in the stomach and knocking him to the ground. Criston then stood over his fallen opponent, he moved one of his feet to stand on the arm that Harwin still held his sword in, pressing it deeper into the mud.

“Yield.” Criston breathed out harshly, glaring at the man.

Harwin returned his glare tenfold, baring his teeth, his pride demanding that he stand up and beat Criston bloody, but his tired and aching body wanted him to say that words so he could rest.

“Yield.” Criston repeated, digging his heel hard into Harwin’s hand, and raising his Morningstar into the air, more than prepared to bring it down repeatedly until he heard the words.

Or he won’t say it. If not, then I will happily enjoying make this disgrace less handsome for his whore princess and bastard pup. Criston thought. 

“I... I yield.” Harwin muttered reluctantly, his body trembling with rage.

Criston smirked, stepping back, and raising his arms in the air, taking in his victory. The cheers of the crowd grew louder as it became clear that the Kingsguard had won.

Harwin tried to stand but found that he could not, his adrenaline had died down and his injuries were starting to make themselves truly known. Two squires had run from the sidelines, going to help the man when it became clear that he could not get up on his own. The two young boys worked together remove Harwin’s chest plate, pauldrons, rerebrace, and elbow cop.

Once these pieces were placed to the side, Harwin’s broken and bruised flesh was revealed to the world, small bits of blood peeking through his chainmail.

“I think you have broken some bones, my lord.” One of the squires said.

And he was right; Harwin had a broken collarbone and a shattered elbow, injuries that were made solely by Criston Cole.

Criston’ smirk grew larger, his voice carrying as he spoke, “I suppose even the so called ‘Strongest Man in the Seven Kingdoms’ is not invulnerable. Perhaps we should be calling you ‘Brokenbones’? It would suit you far better, Ser.”

Those who heard the jape began to laugh, spreading the word to those who were further away, leading them to also laugh at the Strong’s expense. Soon many would begin to refer to Harwin as Brokenbones instead of his previous alias of Breakbones.

Harwin’s face turned a deep shade of red, a mixture of embarrassment and anger began to swell inside him, demanding that he show everyone why he gained the title of the realm’s strongest man.

Are you kidding me?! How could I lose to this worthless cunt?! Now he mocks me, thinks he can make a fool out of me in front of the realm. Harwin screamed in his head.

More squires appeared, a large stretcher with them that they placed onto the ground next to Harwin. The group then worked together to push Harwin onto it and carry it away to the maester’s tent. Not once did Harwin’s glare leave Criston’s form, not until he disappeared inside the tent.

Criston took the crown of braided white roses given to him and made his way to the royal viewing box, he then placed the crown on the Queen’s lap, kneeling to her as he did so.

“The Queen of Love and Beauty. Our graceful Queen Alicent.” Criston declared aloud.

The crowd cheered once more and Alicent gave her sworn protector a soft smile. As she looked around, she noticed that the reaction of those who were opposed to her faction was more subdued.

Corlys and Rhaenys gave polite claps, neither looking too bothered nor excited by the display. But it was the reactions of her stepdaughter and good son that secretly filled her with a vindictive glee.

Laenor’s hands were clenched on top of his lap, his eyes staring daggers into Criston’s back, no doubt wanting to strike the man down as he always did. Rhaenyra was even more incensed than her husband, her eyes flickering between Alicent and Criston, not knowing who to completely direct her anger at.

I suppose you would be angered over seeing your son’s father being beaten so soundly, at having you lover lying in the dirt at the mercy of the man who you tricked into sullying himself.

For the first time, Alicent found herself greatly enjoying a tourney. She was fighting for the decency of the realm, and Criston’s victory was the first in their prolonged battle to ensure that it was preserved.

~X~

Hours Later

“So, I see it was not just your bones that were broken, but your ego has been bruised as well.” Harwin heard, breaking him out of his thoughts as he stared out a nearby window.

Harwin stared to the side and glared at his brother who had entered the room unannounced, but Larys did not falter, and an easy-going smile still remained on his lips.

Larys Strong was smaller than Harwin and their father, Lyonel, having a scrawny frame compared to them and his height diminished slightly due to his years of slouching. But he had the same brown hair, brown eyes, strong jaw, and pale skin.

“Have you only come here to mock me, little brother?” Harwin asked tiredly.

Larys let out a small laugh, “Not entirely. I did come to check in on you. You will heal properly, correct? No lasting issues?”

“Aye, according to the maester I should be fine. But he has barred me from my post for the next few weeks. Says it too dangerous go out there like this.”

“You should listen to him, maesters know far more about the body than any of us do.”

Harwin rolled his eyes, “Piss off.”

Larys continued to smile, limping as he walked towards the chair sitting next to his bed and sat down.

“So, what are they saying about me?” Harwin asked.

Larys stared at his older brother, “Who are talking about you?”

Harwin stared Larys blankly, “Larys…”

Harwin knew of his brother’s interest in gossip. Larys since they were young, had the ability to know things that went on in the shadows. Harwin often told Larys that he could very well become the Master of Whisperers in the future if the current one was to be relieved of his post.

Larys clicked his teeth, “The court is now calling you Brokenbones, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

Harwin was dreading going out, of having to take the whispers and laughter. He thought he had hated Criston Cole before this, the man was an arrogant and violent brute, showing his true colors at Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding feast. Criston had purposely hurt Rhaenyra and killed the man that Laenor loved before joining side of Rhaenyra’s enemy.

This was already enough for Harwin to dislike him, but now, his desire to break him had grown in the light of the humiliation that Criston had given him.

“There is no loss in the faith of your strength, but everyone now believes that all you have is your infamous strength. That Criston has proven himself to be the superior and skilled fighter.” Larys continued.

“That’s just great.” Harwin drawled sarcastically.

“It’s not the worst thing.” Larys stated.

Harwin's jaw clenched, “I am seen as lesser to the Dornish Marsher fucker.”

Larys raised an eyebrow, “Why do you care if Criston is seen as better than you? I don't recall you two having much interaction with each other before now.”

The two brothers stared at each other as a tense silence filled the room, but this standoff was broken when a knock came from the door. 

“Come in.” Harwin said loudly, still staring at his brother.

The door opened and Rhaenyra and Aelora entered Harwin's bedroom.

“Ser Harwin,” Rhaenyra said warmly only for this to leave her voice as she looked at the man next to him, clearly not expecting him to be there. “Lord Larys.”

“Your Grace.” Larys greeted, standing up from the chair and bowing to Rhaenyra before sitting back down.

“Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Aelora.” Harwin said, gritting his teeth when he tried to sit up, a burning sensation emitting from his elbow and collarbone.

Rhaenyra raised her hand up, stopping Harwin. “That is not necessary, Ser. My daughter and I have come to check in on you, your injuries looked serious.”

Aelora then stepped forward, and Harwin took note that she was holding a tray of lemon cakes in her hands. “Ser ‘Win! We got you lemon cakes to help you feel better!”

Harwin smiled, resisting the urge to ruffle her hair, not in front of his brother’s eyes. “Why thank you, princess.”

“You're welcome. Are you in pain? Ser Cris hit you a lot today.” Aelora said, looking over the bedridden commander.

Harwin’s smile became strained at the mention of the Kingsguard. “I am all right, princess. The maester says I will be back to perfect health in a manner of weeks.”

“You are very kind to check in on my brother, Princess Aelora.” Larys said, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

Instead of reacting in fear or nervousness the way most children did around Larys the Clubfoot, Aelora’s smile grew, inwardly surprising the man.

“Thank you, Lord Larys. Ser ‘Win is very important to me.” Aelora replied.

“Is he?” Larys asked playfully.

Aelora quickly nodded her head, “Yes, because Ser ‘Win protects us. And cares about Jace and I.”

Rhaenyra placed her hands on Aelora’s shoulders, pulling her closer. “Ser Harwin takes his job as my sworn protector quite seriously.”

She then looked at Harwin, “I am glad that you have not been seriously injured, Ser Harwin. One of the Kingsguard shall temporarily replace you while you recover.”

“Of course, princess.” Harwin said, a smile still on his lips.

“Then we shall leave you to rest. Good day my lords.” Rhaenyra said as she began to lead herself and her daughter out the door.

Aelora leaned her head to the side, looking back at the two men. “Goodbye Ser ‘Win! Goodbye Lord Larry!”

When the door closed behind the two princesses, Larys looked at his brother confused. “Lord Larry?”

Harwin laughed at his brother’s expression, “The little princess enjoys giving people nicknames. You should take it as a compliment, the princess only does this for people she likes.”

Larys said nothing, continuing to stare at the door, a contemplative look resting on his face.

What a strange girl. Larys thought, finding himself more interested in the young princess.

~X~

Aelora rubbed her eyes as her eyes adjusted to the change in light.

The last thing she remembered was her father putting her to bed, pressing a kiss on the crown of her head as her eyelids grew heavier. Now she found herself standing inside of the Dragonpit, only it was not as empty as it usually was, instead being filled with a large crowd of people.

Aelora found herself standing on a large stage, surprised by those who were standing there with her.

There was a man with a full beard and hair of light auburn hair. He was a bit older and dressed in fine green clothes. He had a look of satisfaction on his face, looking over the crowd happily.  

She then saw Criston Cole standing towards the center of the stage, tense and serious. Alicent stood nearby in a green dress, wearing a necklace with a seven-star pendant hanging down. She wore the Queen's crown on her head as her hair was styled around it.  

Off to the side, Aelora saw the older version of Helaena but this time she was older, her hair had been pulled back and she was wearing a light blue dress. Next to her stood a very tall and slender young man dressed in black. His hair was long and straight, and he had a long chin, but what drew Aelora’s attention the most the eyepatch he wore and the long scar that could be seen from the top and bottom.

Neither looked excited to be there, as if they were just waiting for it all to be over.

“People of King’s Landing,” The older man yelled, drawing all attention to him. “Today is the saddest of days. Our beloved king, Viserys the Peaceful, is dead.”

The crowd broke out into vigorous chatter, many realizing what they were brought there for.

“But it is also the most joyous of days. For as his spirit left us, he whispered his final wish that his firstborn son, Aegon, should succeed him.”

Suddenly the sound of trumpets and drums caused Aelora to jump in surprise. As she looked towards the crowd, she noticed that a long gap had been made, two lines of guards stood on either side, creating a line from the stage's steps to one of the Dragonpit’s openings on the side of the arena.

Aelora continued to watch until she saw the older version of Aegon round the bend that had been created. This Aegon was a bit older than the one she saw with Helaena and the two children she held in her arms but was not scared and broken like the one she saw at Dragonstone.

Aegon was dressed in a long wrap that was very dark shade of green, so dark that it appeared black from far away and was closed with leather straps at his waist, one of which held the dagger that Aelora knew Viserys owned. He had large leather gloves on his hands, a cape that was held on his shoulders with a gold chain, and the Targaryen three headed dragon was stitched on the front of his coat with gold thread.

Aelora saw that Aegon’s eyes were watery with tears that refused to fall, his lips pushed out in a pout as he stared forward. Once he reached the stage, Aegon walked used the stairs and then kneeled.

Now that he was closer, Aelora noticed that it was not just Viserys dagger that Aegon now had, but his sword too. The hilt of Blackfyre staring her in the face as it rested at Aegon’s side.

“It is your great good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this. A new day for our city. A new day for our realm. A new king to lead us.”

He then stepped aside allowing the Septon behind him to watch towards Aegon, oils in hand.

“May the Warrior give him courage. May the Smith lend strength to his sword and shield. May the Father defend him in his need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light his way to wisdom.” The Septon said as he anointed Aegon.

When he moved back, Criston stepped forward and Aelora saw that he was holding the ruby incrusted crown of Aegon the Conqueror.

Criston lifted the crown up high, allowing all to see it before he placed it on Aegon’s head. “The crown of the Conqueror, passed down through generations. Let the Seven bear witness, Aegon Targaryen is the true heir to the Iron Throne.”

He then took a step back, allowing Aegon to finally stand.

“All hail His Grace, Aegon, Second of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”

Aegon slowly turned around looking over the crowd. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

The crowd murmured but once one person was heard clapping, everyone followed suit and began to cheer to the ringing of bells.

“Aegon the King! Aegon the King! Long live Aegon!”

Aegon’s eyes widened a bit as he took in the applause and admiration of the citizens of King's Landing. His frown disappeared and his eyes became brighter.

A smile appeared on his lips as he pulled Blackfyre out of its scabbard and raised it high above his head. His smile grew larger as the cheers grew louder. He made a showing of thrusting the sword up and down, eventually raising both arms to his sides and basking in the moment.

As this was going on, Aelora saw Alicent make her way to Helaena, removing the crown from her head and placing it on her daughter’s.

“My Queen.” Alicent addressed, giving her daughter a bow.

Helaena stared at her mother, a detached expression on her face.

“You have doomed us.” Helaena said softly, ignoring the way Alicent’s face changed.

Aelora was not sure how much time had passed but before she knew it, Aelora was watching as Aegon climbed upon his dragon, Sunfyre, and took a few laps around the city.

She had never seen Aegon as happy as he was now as he and Sunfyre landed, and the cheers of the crowd had started up again.

No… if Aegon is King then... then… Aelora thought, her breathing becoming heavier, and her heart began to race.

Aelora looked back at her family, jumping when she saw Helaena looking in her direction.

Is there something behind me?

But Aelora soon realized that Helaena was looking at her, that she knew she was there.

“Aelora, you have to save us.” Helaena asked.

Aelora’s eyes widened, “Wh… what? I… I don’t.. I… Helaena…”

Aelora blinked and tried to move away when Helaena was now suddenly standing right in front of her. But Helaena quickly reached out and held her face in her hands.

“You have to save us.”

Aelora quickly sat up with a gasp, trying to take in as much air as she could. She could feel her nightclothes and her bed sheets sticking to her sweaty skin.

“What… why… why did…” Aelora choked our, still trying to catch her breath.

Once she felt she had calmed down, Aelora’s heart was sent racing again when the door to her room swung open, causing her to let out a shriek.

“Helaena?! What are you doing?” Aelora asked once she saw that it was her aunt who was there.

Helaena said nothing as she closed the door behind her and made her way to the side of Aelora’s bed. Helaena stared at her for a few seconds before lifted her hand, revealing a small white handkerchief.

Aelora was confused, “Why do you-"

Helaena cut her off, bring the handkerchief to the left side of Aelora’s face and used it to wipe below her eye. When Helaena pulled away, Aelora’s eyes widened as she saw that the fabric was stained red with blood, the moonlight from her windows making it look brighter.

“My eye!” Aelora exclaimed as she raised poked and prodded at the area but was confused when she felt not cut or injury to be found.

“They are getting stronger.” Helaena said softly.

“What is getting stronger?” Aelora asked.

Helaena did not answer her, placing the handkerchief down on a nearby table.

“Helaena?” Aelora asked as she watched the other girl.

Helaena then wordlessly climbed into Aelora’s bed, laying down next to her.

“It’s late, Lora. You should be asleep.” Helaena said as she pulled the covers over their bodies.

Aelora pouted, “You’re awake too.”

“But you’re still young.” Helaena said as she patted Aelora’s head.

“You’re only a year older than me!” Aelora exclaimed, offended that Helaena saw her as a child compared to herself.

“Go to sleep.” Helaena said.

“You’re not my mother.” Aelora muttered but followed her aunt's lead and laid down.

For a minute, they both laid there silently. Aelora stared at the ceiling before turning her head seeing that Helaena had done the same.

“Helaena?” Aelora whispered.

“Yes.” Helaena responded and Aelora noted that the moonlight had caused Helaena’s purple to sparkle.

Aelora swallowed the saliva that had built up in her mouth, “Were you in my dreams?”

Helaena stared at her blankly, “How would that work?”

Aelora felt her cheeks burn, “I don’t know. But I… you spoke to me.”

“To do what?”

“To save you. To save everyone.”

Helaena moved closer to her niece, pressing her forehead against the side of Aelora’s neck.

“A nation’s divide, sister against brother, friend against friend, a tragic tale, a bitter end. Ideals clash, beliefs collide, as armies gather, a symphony of chaos, a bloody score." 

Aelora froze, her body tensing at Helaena’s words. “What?”

She was met with silence and Aelora realized that Helaena was now asleep, her breathing having evened out.

Aelora looked away from her aunt, turning to look back at the ceiling. The princess got no sleep that night, her dreams, and Helaena’s words haunting her each time she closed her eyes.