House of The Dragon: The blind warrior

While walking through the halls of Dragonstone, Heleana couldn't help but notice the men who bore black dragon sigils on a red field, reinforcing every part of the castle.

The men themselves, who were escorting her, were part of the same group.

She had heard her grandfather and mother talking about them when they had forgotten she was in the room.

'The Sons of the Dragon,' they called themselves.

A sellsword company larger than any other to exist, an army so mighty that even the Free Cities employed them to bring about peace and lawfulness in Essos.

It was mind-boggling to Heleana how such people could achieve this, but as she watched their precision and the discipline they carried themselves with, it became clear to her that whoever was behind their training was a great person.

And apparently, she was about to meet this great person.

Vealor, her childhood friend and the very boy—or man now—she was supposed to marry.

It had been a sad day when word came from Dragonstone of his passing. Her father, who was already sickly, had fallen even more ill because the bond between grandson and grandfather was something special—something rarely seen.

There had been a funeral pyre burned in both King's Landing and Dragonstone.

Yet Heleana herself knew from her dreams that the Black Dragon was not dead, that he was undergoing trials and tribulations to prepare him for something much greater than any Targaryen king could have ever predicted.

The Dance of the Dragons.

But even if that was true, even if Heleana believed he was alive, she had never expected him to do what he had done. To take her from her home?

She had underestimated their bond.

Heleana was pulled from her thoughts as the two guards set to escort her brought her to the library of Dragonstone. They opened the double doors for her, and she hesitated for only a second, knowing who waited for her inside, before stepping into the quiet room, full of shelves that housed many different tomes.

She expected to find Vealor standing there, back turned toward her, waiting for her to step into the room.

But the room was empty, no sound coming from anywhere except the candles and the rats the castle cats had yet to deal with.

Heleana, busy looking around the room and wondering when the man who was the entire reason she was here would show up, did not know he was already in the room, observing her.

He had been watching her since the moment she had disembarked from the ship in the bay.

Vealor was nervous, though he wouldn't admit it. He was a man who had seen suffering, pain, war, and gore. Yet here was the girl who understood him better than anyone else. Who knew the pain that dreaming could bring, who understood the countless sleepless nights it caused, and who shared the burden of possessing such an ability.

A girl who had grown into a beautiful woman. Vealor could visualize her appearance by the way she moved, the strides she took, how her weight made the floor vibrate, and how... good she smelled.

To him, she was perfect... though he was not.

As Heleana waited around for the man who was taking in her form, she walked toward a desk to see a book open, depicting Targaryens taming dragons.

As she picked up the book, a deep and calm voice reverberated through the room, startling her so much that she dropped it back onto the table with a thud.

"Did you have any difficulties in your travel?" Vealor spoke, hearing the book slam onto the table and realizing he had startled her.

"I apologize," he spoke again, Heleana now confused as to where the voice was coming from. She didn't recognize who it belonged to.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said calmly, taking measured steps to avoid revealing his position.

Heleana, looking around for the man she knew was in the room with her, shook her head before saying, "It's fine," her tone polite but guarded as she tried to locate him.

"And no," she said, answering his prior question. Vealor nodded in satisfaction, making a mental note to reward Inej and Ezio for bringing her safely. "I was treated with respect, even though I was taken from my home without my consent," she added, her voice carrying a hint of bitterness.

Her words made Vealor tilt his head in faint amusement.

"I apologize for that, but it was the only way to maintain the element of surprise," Vealor said, his voice gradually approaching. Heleana realized he was behind the largest shelf in the room when she saw a tall shadow shifting behind it.

"Why do you hide?" she asked, a growing suspicion in her tone.

Vealor snorted lightly before replying, "I am not hiding." He stopped on the other side of the bookshelf, knowing a single step would reveal him fully to her.

Heleana, now hearing his voice more clearly, slowly approached the bookshelf. Step by step, her movements echoed through the room.

She was only a few steps away from seeing his form behind the shelf when she stopped, noticing the shadow had something gleaming on its face as the light caught it.

Heleana saw the mask and was thrown into a flashback of a young Vealor, his eyes bloodied as the maester stitched them up. A shiver ran down her spine as she snapped back to the present, suddenly aware that the shadow behind the shelf now stood right in front of her, towering over her and making her feel so small.

"Heleana," came a whisper, and she looked up to see the masked form of the man she missed. Slowly, she raised her hands to touch the metal texture of the mask, noting the lack of eyeholes, knowing he didn't need any. Carefully, she lifted it.

Long, snow-white hair spilled free from the mask as she slowly uncovered his features. His lips, a perfect shade of pink, his skin with a faintly light-brown hue barely noticeable, and then the scars—jagged and pale—on both his cheeks, stretching across his face.

Finally, as the mask came fully off, Heleana gazed upon the face of her childhood friend, now a sullen-looking man with a scar running through his face and across his eyes, which he opened to reveal white pearls.

"V-Vea...lor," she stuttered, his name tumbling from her lips as the man gave her a barely noticeable smile.

"Hello, Heleana," he said. Heleana stared at him for a moment longer before dropping the mask and embracing him. Vealor caught her in his arms, holding her tightly. No words were spoken, only the silence of two people who had yearned for each other for years.

"I knew it," Heleana finally spoke after a minute of silence. "I knew you weren't dead."

She looked up at Vealor, her voice carrying a mixture of relief and conviction. He held her gaze, his expression softening for her alone.

"Yes, well, not many can say the same," Vealor replied, his tone calm but with an edge of bitterness. Heleana knew he was referring to their family on Dragonstone—those who had mourned him but ultimately moved on.

Vealor, though overjoyed to hold her again, was reluctant to let her go. Her presence felt like the only light in the shadowed world he had walked since his supposed death.

"I missed you," Heleana said softly, her voice trembling just slightly.

Vealor finally turned his gaze fully to her, locking his pearl-white eyes with hers. To his surprise and quiet relief, she didn't flinch away as so many others had.

"I missed you too," he said, his voice low but full of sincerity. He reluctantly loosened his embrace, holding her hands in his as they stood a foot apart, their bond palpable in the space between them.

"Do you understand why I had to do it?" Vealor asked, his words deliberate, his tone measured.

Heleana lowered her gaze to the floor, her thoughts swirling with memories and conflicting emotions. Slowly, she nodded, though she dreaded the answer she might find in his eyes. When she looked back up, expecting disappointment, she found only a faint, reassuring smile on his lips.

"What Aegon—no, what Queen Alicent and the rest of the Small Council did, placing Aegon on the throne, was wrong by all accounts," Vealor said. His tone was steady, but there was a fire behind his words.

"I know," Heleana said, her voice quiet but resolute. She had tried to speak out against it many times—to her mother, Alicent, and her elder sister Rhaela. But no one had listened. No one except for Vealor.

Her mind raced as she ventured to ask the question that gnawed at her. "What do you plan on doing to them?"

Heleana's voice trembled slightly, knowing full well the answer would reveal the cold truth of the man her friend had become.

Vealor didn't respond immediately. His silence spoke volumes, and Heleana's heart sank. She knew.

"The children," she said firmly, her voice laced with urgency. "They're innocent."

Vealor's eyes softened for a moment as he looked at her, his calm mask slipping just enough to show the conflict beneath. For her, he would try. But the world he was preparing for demanded blood, and he could not lie to her.

"I know," he finally said, his voice almost a whisper.

As if sensing her distress, he lifted his hands to her shoulders, tracing her neck with deliberate care before cupping her face gently. Heleana stood still, allowing him to memorize every feature as though it was the first and last time he would ever see her.

When he finally spoke, his words were full of quiet reverence. "You look as beautiful as the last time I saw you."

Heleana, unable to suppress the warmth rising in her chest, thought the same of him despite the scars and the years of pain etched into his face.

The moment hung between them, equal parts heartwarming and heartbreaking. Before her stood not only the friend she had once adored but also the man who, she realized with chilling certainty, could be the undoing of her family.

Heleana felt the weight of contradiction in her chest.

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