Chapter Text
I
The only force mightier than dragons was the sea. Helaena was the only Targaryen who knew this. Dragons could grow large enough to block out the sun as they flew through the sky; swallow grown men whole. They could reduce the greatest of castles to a pile of ash; but dragons could be ridden, tamed, convinced to serve you. The sea had no rider. It served no one. The right sized storm could swallow even The Great Balerion with ease. No amount of dragonfire could defeat it. She had heard stories from Laenor of storms that sank the greatest sailing vessels, of currents that swallowed the strongest swimmers. The sea was to be respected and feared.
Diving towards a raging sea in the near pitch black was a foolish move, but they had to escape Vhagar. The she-beast was bigger than Dreamfyre. Unrelenting, she dogged them through the howling winds and torrential downpour. The storm was exhausting Dreamfyre. Helaena’s saddle had been damaged from Vhagar’s fire. It no longer fit snugly against her dragon’s body. The dive was a last ditch effort to escape Vhagar’s snapping jaw. Still, the pair may have been able to successfully execute the maneuver. If the wave hadn’t crashed into them. Plunged underwater, Helaena was ripped off of her saddle. She had been too focused on escaping Vhagar to secure her saddle chains.
Helaena had lost all sense of direction underwater. She knew a trick for reorienting oneself: let out a few bubbles of air which would rise to the surface. The sea was too dark for this to work. Her body drifted in a direction. Was she floating upwards? Left with no other options, Helaena kicked desperately as her lungs began to burn. Hoping, praying that she was not swimming further down.
Her head broke the surface. She gasped for air. The silence of underwater was replaced by howling winds, crashes of thunder, and pouring rain. A giant wave towered over her. Helaena had only a moment to fill her lungs, before it pushed her under again. She resurfaced again. Treading water, Helaena frantically searched for signs of Dreamfyre. Her dragon was not suited for this. The rider could feel her beast’s terror. There was nothing Helaena could do to rescue her.
Another minute passed of waves pushing her underwater, of having to fight to resurface, before she spotted Dreamfyre’s head. Helaena swam towards her, calling for her. Trying to soothe her as the dragon thrashed in the sea, but the storm was too loud, or the dragon’s panic too severe for Helaena to be heard. Dreamfyre’s floundering finally let her break away from the ocean’s clutches. Taking to the sky again, before Helaena could reach her.
“Dreamfyre come back!” She screamed in Valyrian, unheard by her dragon. The child watched in horror as her only escape from the storm flew further and further away.
She trembled in the ocean, continuing to tread water. “It is alright,” she whispered to herself. “She’ll be back. She’ll come back.” Dreamfyre would never abandon her. Once her dragon realized she was missing her rider, she would race back to her. What if she can not find you? A voice whispered in her mind. What if she does not have the strength to return?
Another wave brought her under, she resurfaced again, fighting to stay afloat. Water splashed into her nose and mouth. It burned her nostrils. The salt made her gag. She was desperate for something to wash away the burning sensation. She desperately scanned the darkened sky for her dragon. What do I do? What do I do? She thought, but there was nothing to do. Nothing but to watch for the next wave, take a breath, go under, swim back to the surface, and kick her legs to stay afloat while she scanned the sky until the next wave came.
Wave. Breathe. Under. Swim. Kick. No Dreamfyre.
Wave. Breathe. Under. Swim. Kick . Her waterlogged dress was weighing her down. The thick skirts tangled her legs, diminishing her kicks. Helaena was forced to shed the woolen clothing.
Wave. Breathe. Under. Swim. Kick . Were the waves growing in size? They must be. They were holding her under longer, sometimes minutes at a time.
Wave. Breathe. Under. Swim. Kick . She was tiring. How long had she been repeating this cycle? Minutes? An hour? Longer? Helaena was a strong swimmer. Laenor said she was like a frog, but Helaena doubted a frog could survive these conditions.
Wave. Breathe. Under. Swim. Kick . Her limbs were growing heavy, her head drooped in exhaustion. The idea of giving up, letting the next wave carry her under into the sea’s embrace, started to sound soothing. The next wave came.
Wave. Breathe. Under. Swim. Kick . She couldn’t. There was a reason sailors did not learn to swim. It meant a quicker death. A few tortuous minutes, then blissful death. Once you learned to swim, you fought, you could not help it. You kicked and struggled until every last bit of strength was wretched from you. This would be an awful death.
Another wave brought her under, this time with a surprise. Something hard collided into her side. She cried out in pain. Salt water rushed in, setting her throat on fire. The thing blocked her way to the surface. She pawed at it, trying to swim around it. She needed to surface. Her body was spasming, begging for air. She clawed her way to the surface again, clinging to the item. After she spit out the water and gulped in a few breaths of air, she realized what had hit her.
Driftwood. They decorated the beaches of Driftmark. A lifeline. Helaena dug her nails in and clung tightly to the weathered wood as the sea continued to toss her. It was draining, but still a welcome break from treading water. Time lost all meaning as Helaena gripped the driftwood; praying her strength would not fail before the storm ended.
At some point she made her way to the tree’s gnarled roots and clung to them. Helaena rested her head, but was unable to doze as the storm continued to rage. Eventually, exhaustion overcame her after the hours in the storm. One moment there was darkness, the next she was drowning. The princess floundered in the water until her head was above the surface. One moment of sleep and it may nearly kill her. Helaena panickedly lunged for the driftwood before the waves carried it away. After hauling herself back on top, she stayed awake the rest of the night.
Helaena knew the Sun had risen because the black clouds were replaced with a light gray. That was the only change. The wind still howled, the rain drenched her, and the waves tossed her with the same intensity as the night before. The princess was tired, hungry, and thirsty. At least the fat raindrops that stung her face could also quench her dry mouth. She prayed for the storm to end. Weeping when the Sun continued to be hidden behind a cloud cover while it moved across the sky. As long as it lasted, no dragon or ship could risk searching for her. Gone was the impulse to run away. All she wanted was to be wrapped in her softest furs, warmed by a roaring fire, with a full belly. The girl watched the skies for a break in the clouds, a patch of sunlight, a sign the storm was breaking. She found none.
Up and down the waves threw her, as rain pelted her and wind whipped her. Helaena kept her arms wrapped around the roots, gripping so tightly her hands went numb. The currents constantly tugged at her, threatening to pull her back into the sea if her grip slackened. The storm will be finished by the morning, she told herself as she shivered against the wind, then my family will find me with their dragons, or Driftmark ships. I only have to hold on till morning. The storm will be finished by morning.