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The first time you met Helaena, it was on a warm summer evening at the local neighborhood park. And everything shined yellow.
She was there at a spot closest to the entrance, crouched down, gracefully like a princess picking on the mud before her, intently. You wonder if she’s collecting cool-looking stones. You hovered a few paces away, the sweat from your walk sticking your cotton shirt to your skin.
You had promised your mother you'd make at least two friends, and Halaena seemed a likely candidate—if you could just figure out how to make her notice you.
You had arrived there with a purpose. You were to make friends. You had promised your mother, you would at least make two.
So even though your heart was beating right out of your rib cage, you steeled yourself, fist clenched as you walked up to the squatted blonde girl.
When you approached her, she had seemed nice enough. She was a bit dazed out, like she had just woken up from a dream. You had many dreams back then, they were so eventful and wondrous, that you had started to prefer them to your own life.
“Hi,” you spoke up, your voice louder than you expected.
“Hi,” she replied, not bothering to look up at you. Your mother had told you that was not good manners.
You frowned. "Do you go to Dragonstone Academy?" you asked, trying to sound casual.
No response.
"I’m starting next week," you added.
No response.
“I know we’re already halfway through the year, so that might be hard but think I’ll manage.”
No response again.
This time you consider shaking the girl, wondering if she needs help. If she’s okay.
You thought for a second about shaking her awake, to check if she was okay, or sleeping sitting up, but before you could, you heard footsteps,.
A boy appeared, older, with the same blond hair as hers. You assumed they were siblings.
He looks at you for a mere second before turning his eyes back to his sister.
“Mother wants us home by 5. We should go,” he says. His voice sounded a bit like he had a cough. But most boys your age sounded like that these days. Maybe there was a viral disease of some sort going around.
Anyway, for the first time since you saw her, she looked up, her eyes shifting like clouds clearing
"Alright," she murmured, her voice syrupy, like that one singer your mother loves listening to every morning.
She stood, gathering something in a small cloth bundle at her side, and then her eyes met yours. “You should come,” she said, smiling softly. “Mother will like you."
The boy blinked like he'd just now noticed you existed. "Who is she?" he asked.
Halaena’s hand slipped into yours, so gently you almost didn’t notice. "She's a friend," Halaena said like it was a fact.
"I’m… your friend?" you asked, confused. You had barely managed to speak to her, and yet here you were, your hand in hers as though she had known for ages.
"Of course," she said simply, as if the question itself didn’t make sense, her fingers tightening gently around yours. And that was that.
For the whole journey to her house, she had held your hand in her soft grip as she stared at the trees, once again, not speaking a single word on the way back. You remember it had been painful and awkward.
The boy, on the other hand, was the same in a way. He said nothing and once you lot reached, he ran up to his room, something about studying his languages. You’re not sure what language. You later found out it had been French.
“Mother,” she spoke up as she approached a tall lady with fluffy red hair in the living room of their big house. You hadn’t seen many red-haired women before, plenty of men though.
“What is it, sweetie?”
“I brought a friend,” your new friend said.
Her mother who was previously engaged in looking at a paper, swivels her head up to look at her and then you.
Her dark brown eyes peer into you, as though she’s just as surprised as you are about this new development.
You want to tell her that you’re confused and scared because she's an adult and she could help, right? But instead, you smile, polite as ever, and speak up. “Hi, I’m new. I just moved by the street about a week ago, and will be joining Dragonstone Academy soon.”
“Oh, good good. You’ll be in the same class then?”
"I’m… not sure," you admitted, glancing at Helaena, hoping for some confirmation, but she just stared at the floor, lost in thought again.
"How old are you, sweet one?" her mother asked.
“Thirteen," you said. "In nine months.”
"You’re twelve. Same as Helaena" her mother mused, her smile softening. "Maybe you'll be in the same section."
You nodded again, unsure of what else to say. There was something about the whole situation that made you feel like you were in a dream, the kind where everything looks just a little off. Like Alice in Wonderland, except there were no smiling cats or tall mushrooms.
"Mother," Helaena spoke up, her voice picking up a small note of excitement. "I have a surprise for you."
You watched her draw closer to the sofa where her mother was seated.
“What is it sweetie?” she asked, her hand patting her child’s hair down.
“My friends,” she confesses, sounding happier than you’ve heard all day.
Your brows cinch in confusion as you step closer then, curiosity getting the best of you.
She then gently places the bunched-up cloth onto her mother’s lap, causing you to gasp.
Her mother unfolded it slowly. Inside you saw small stones, a few bugs crawling over them, and a couple of worms wriggling in the soft specks of dirt.
"Oh, sweetheart," her mother said, her voice catching just a little, like she was about to cry. "Thank you but I do wish you’d show me your friends in the garden."
Helaena says nothing in return, as you watch, fascinated by the worms, Helaena, and her mother.
"Besides, wouldn’t they miss their family if you keep taking them away?" her mother adds.
"They like me," she counters softly but surely. She wasn’t trying to convince anyone— it seemed to be just the truth to her. She didn't even frown.
You couldn’t help but smile at that, the way she said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like 'Mother will like you'. It seemed a bit silly to you.
Her mother gave a small laugh, trying to hide her discomfort as she bundled the cloth back up.
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked, turning her gaze to you, her hands still cradling the little bugs like they were some strange gift. "Juice, maybe?"
“I like juice,” you smiled with a nod. Surprised by the normality of the offer.
Her mother stood, still holding the bundle in her careful grip. "I’ll be right back," she says with a restrained smile.
And so, given that this was your very first experience with Helaena, an experience that was relatively less tame in comparison to her general aura of otherworldliness. You made the assumption — a terrible assumption that Aemond was normal. He had temper issues, a bit of asocial-ness about him, but despite it all, he was normal and didn't have worms for friends.
You're freshly dating, and only have about 3 weeks and 2 days under your belt. It was a tumultuous affair, getting him to date you, really. But it's happened and now you're rewarded as you're sitting in his warm lap, kissing him pretty with your gloss-stained lips. His arms are on your waist, they always seem to go through the motions. They lay there against your hip, sort of loosely before the grip gets firmer and firmer until you feel how much he likes having you sitting in his lap. The heat of him, solid and real beneath you, roots you in the moment.
You’re in the rhythm of it when—
A scream bursts from your throat before you can stop it. You scramble off Aemond’s lap, your back hitting the headboard. Your eyes, wide and uncomprehending, fix on the creature—an enormous lizard, staring at you with unblinking beady eyes.
Aemond looks up at you, shocked only for a second before his face halts at a calmness, a dejectedness you've come to realise isn't as harsh as you may have assumed it to be. There's a softness in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is steady, but you can see the flicker of confusion in his one visible eye.
You stare at him, incredulous. "Are you seriously— Aemond, there's a lizard. A giant lizard right in front of you!"
He glances down, casually, then back at you. “Oh, that’s Vhagar,” he says like that’s meant to explain everything.
You blinked. “A what?”
“Vhagar,” he repeats plainly. “My pet. Named her after my great aunt’s dog.”
You don't say anything for a good while. Simply baffled.
“That’s… a pet?” you manage, voice thin.
He nods, his hand moving up and down, slowly against your calves.
He nods, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your leg. “She’s harmless.”
You blink. "She's a lizard."
“A Tegu to be precise,” Aemond corrects, his tone as cool as ever. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”
Your eyes flit between Aemond and the creature—Vhagar—now lazily blinking at you from across the bed. The way his hand moves so easily, up and down, fingers soft against your leg, like he’s describing an old photograph, a rare painting, not the giant reptile lounging in his room. “Uh, sure,” you say, voice shaky. “Gorgeous.”
He smirks then, a glint lighting up his eye. “I can put him outside if you’d prefer.”
You hesitate for a second, fully ready to nod a confirmation, but instead, you shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Just… maybe warn me next time?”
Aemond chuckles, low and quiet, as you settle back into his lap. His lips press against your hair, “I’ll remember that.”
And just like that, you're settled in this grip of Aemond's warm hands, while Vhagar watches from her distant perch. You couldn’t help but laugh. What a strange, strange family you're going to be part of.