A/N: Hello Everyone! This is my very first GOT fic and I'm so excited to show it to you all. It is one of two that I have in mind of starting and I'm super nervous because Westeros/ George R. R. Martin's world is a big world and I don't want to get anything historically (LOL) wrong. So these updates are definitely going to come slow (maybe once a month?) because I have to do a lot of fact checking in order to get this done. If any of you are super familiar with GOT and want to beta for me please let me know (I basically put a help wanted ad on my profile lol)! Otherwise here is Helaena, I hope you guys like her. Please R&R and let me know what you think!

P.S. If you can't tell this is extremely AU and also Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING EXCEPT HELAENA!

xoxo

M

UPDATE 2018: I've been working on rewriting parts of this story and so I would love if you guys would look over it all again as we go through this journey. I've fixed a few grammar errors, added a couple plot points that I thought was missing and details I thought would be essential. Let me know what you think!

"Rhaegar, you're an absolute fool! What were you thinking?" Helaena slapped her brother across the face, of all the people in the Seven Kingdoms she was the only one who could possibly treat the Heir Apparent as if he was just a normal man.

A hand pressed to his cheek to cool the stinging, Rhaegar glared at his twin but did not retaliate. Years of living with Helaena had taught Rhaegar to pick and choose his battles, especially with the way that the Princess was prone to acts of physical violence when displeased. "I love her," The Prince insisted fervently, believing with every part of his soul that he did, in fact, love Lyanna Stark.

"You have a lady wife—do you know what kind of shame you've brought upon Elia? Good, sweet Elia? Not to mention what kind of insult you've just gave House Martell, and let us not event speak of House Baratheon! Robert will have your head—Prince or not!" pacing about her chambers, Helaena was filled with trepidation and fury as to what consequences Rhaegar's actions could wrought. Her idiot twin brother just had to go and think with his cock instead of his head-again.

"Robert won't do anything to me. I'm the Prince and Heir, the future King of Westeros. If he knows what's good for him, he'll concede and find another wife," the confidence that radiated in Rhaegar's statement annoyed Helaena so much and she couldn't help but stare at her brother, wondering how she could possibly be twins with such a complete fool.

Helaena scoffed derisively, "Obviously you do not know Robert," running a hand through her hair and dragging it down her face in exhaustion, the Princess could feel the weight of all that had happened settle deeply into her bones, "And you have Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon. Have you thought of your children at all? What this will do to them?"

The question was met with silence and Helaena had her answer. Disappointment filled the Princess, having always thought better of her brother—at the very least when it concerned his children, the little persons that he held above all others, that which he loved the most. Casting another glare at her brother, Helaena sighed once again.

"Picky any whore, any servant. That at least would have been tolerated, appropriate even—but no, not for Rhaegar Targaryen. Of all the people to choose to be your mistress, why would you pick a lady of a Great House? The kind of unrest this could cause, when Father's actions are already causing turmoil," Helaena yelled once again, anger boiling over in her body and erupting at her brother, "You are a Prince! Act like a Prince!" she scolded severely, striding over to where Rhaegar was standing and striking him across the face once again—huffing harshly in frustration.

"Helaena," Rhaegar pleaded for his twin sister to understand. Of all the people in King's Landing, in the Seven Kingdoms, his sister had always been his confidante and closest companion. He needed her to understand him now. All the rules, all the politics, the arranged marriage, the battles—the only thing Rhaegar wanted was to play his lyre and lay in a field with Lyanna Stark, whose Northern ways and Northern beauty were like a breath of fresh air in comparison to the cesspool that was King's Landing.

But of course, Helaena didn't understand. She lived and thrived off the machinations of all the men and women around her, wanted to surround herself in politics, having learnt everything at the knee of Grandfather and Father. And besides that, Helaena had been fostered in the Vale with Robert and Ned for a couple years while she was still growing—the ways of the North weren't exotic to her. Winterfell was a place frequently visited by the Princess to see her precious friend Eddard Stark—who she sometimes treated far more kindly than her own brother—something Rhaegar was always quick to point out when the twins were in a fight with each other.

"Helaena, stop. I love Lyanna, but we can still go through with our plans. We can still stop father. My relationship with her doesn't change anything. If we leave Father alone for too long, he'll burn the whole Kingdom down," trying to reason with his sister was almost impossible, like reasoning with a storm while it was terrorizing its way through a town. But if there was anyone who could do it, it would be Rhaegar.

"Our plans," Helaena rolled her eyes, "Do you really think we can continue? When all the world saw what you did? Public support won't be with us thanks to you and your actions—you absolute cunt of a man," Helaena screamed into the room in fury—causing Rhaegar to flinch—the Prince, while knowing that Helaena would never actually severely harm him, was still very much afraid of his sister's temper, which had begun to be known was renowned amongst the select few that even knew about it.

"If I wouldn't be caught and put to trial, I would strangle you now, set you in flames, have you drawn and quartered. What will make you see sense brother?" glaring menacingly, Helaena and Rhaegar locked gazes—neither backing down.

Usually, during these times, whenever they were growing up, Rhaegar was the one to fold first. Nearly always, the Prince would bow to his sister's wishes, allowing her to get her way—mostly because she would argue to the point where he wouldn't be able to argue back—having never been that passionate about anything except maybe his lyre. But this time was different, this time his heart was fully invested and he wanted Lyanna Stark.

"I'm sorry Helaena, maybe one day you'll understand," Rhaegar whispered brokenly before turning on his heels and leaving his sister's chambers.

Fist clenched at her sides and anger bubbling in her, making Helaena feel like she was going to burst, the Princess screamed once again and began throwing her possessions around the room. Eventually her ladies in waiting would be brave enough to come in, but right now wasn't the time—when Helaena was in the middle of an explosion. Later, the would come in and when they did, the mess would take hours to clear up and fix.

Eventually, Helaena would calm down and search for her brother again. When she had a clear head and was ready to speak and try to convince him to her way. She was dead set on stopping Rhaegar from committing the biggest mistake that would set back their plans by months if not a full year. But by the time Helaena would re-emerge into the world, it would be too late, as Rhaegar would have gone out hunting and therefore not available to listen to her reason with him. And on that hunt, he would meet up with Lyanna Stark, and that would set off a chain of events Helaena had predicted but never thought would actually come true.

…

The very last time Helaena saw her father, he had been burning the Starks for treason. The man cackling in his madness as the fire engulfed the Lords of the Great House of Stark. If Winter was Truly Coming, then none of these men would live to tell the tale. Everyone had taken to avoiding her father after that, for fear of incurring his wrath in any way. No one was safe. No one.

But now, the Mad King Aerys was lying dead at Jaime Lannister's feet—the knight of her father's Kingsguard sitting casually upon the throne as if he had no care in the world. Helaena tried to find it in her to care. And the moment Jaime laid eyes on Helaena and Ned as they walked into the throne room, he leapt to his feet—as if the action would absolve him of his crimes. It caused the Princess to almost laugh, but her face remained stoic and blank and she made her way forward.

Jaime tensed. The Lannister was expecting Helaena to grab Ned Stark's sword, run at him, and plunge him in the chest in retaliation. After all, the Princess had been trained (upon the instruction of her father) by the best knights of his Kingsguard in order to learn how to properly handle a sword, and if need be, properly execute a man. Instead, the Princess stood there impassively, her eyes scanning the very dead body of her father, blood soaking the clothes of the King's back where he had been stabbed by his own Kingsguard.

"How convenient," was the only vague comment Helaena provided before she started walking toward Jaime. Her dress swishing at her heels and beginning to stain with blood as the Princess made her way passed the dead bodies and headed for the throne. She glanced down dispassionately at the corpses for a brief moment, before looking back up, her eyes locked on the throne that Jaime now stood next to.

"Look Ned," Helaena called to her foster brother as she stopped to stand besides Jaime, who was fidgeting slightly as Helaena got closer to him "We have our very own kingslayer," The Princess seemed to contemplate this for a second, "Would you like that to be your name? Kingslayer?"

"Sound appropriate," Robert's voice boomed into the air as he burst into the throne room, dragging a body by the hair behind him, "Kingslayer should be the only name you are called now Lannister," at the appearance of Robert, Jaime flinched at the moniker that he would no doubt now be forever known by.

Helaena watched as Robert walked in, the air of grim victory surrounding him as the Lord of House Baratheon approached her, the body of the man he was dragging being pulled behind him and presented at her feet. The Princess instantly recognized the familiar colour of silver, after all it was the exact same silver hair that graced the top of her own head. "Is that my dear brother?"

The eldest Baratheon shrugged, after all but throwing the body at Helaena's feet, Robert took a step up so that he was next to Helaena—their eyes meeting in almost silent understanding. "I'm not going to say sorry, if that's what you're looking for," Robert was still filled with rage, and every part of him yearned to be with Lyanna. But he had also made a promise to Helaena, and he wasn't going to be the reason why their plans failed—no matter what his heart wanted.

Rolling her shoulders back from the tension that was building there, Helaena allowed a small smile to grace her lips before bending down to look at her brother's beaten body. He looked different now. The famed silver-haired prince of Westeros—known for his looks and his grace in the battlefield, as well as his skills with a lyre—lying in front of his twin sister…lifeless and dull when he used to only vibrate with energy. Oddly enough, in that moment, Helaena felt nothing, "I told you so," the jab was childish but the Princes couldn't help it. She had been right. And Rhaegar hadn't listened. He never did. And look what ended up happening to him.

"Stand back Robert," at the stern command, the Baratheon backed up and watched as Helaena stood and walked toward the torches on the wall of the throne room. She seemed to take a second, contemplating her next action, before grabbing one of the torches and making her way back over to her brother's dead body. All the men watched her silently and with bated breadth to see what she would do.

"See what happens when you defy me my dear, sweet brother?" Helaena dropped the torch onto her brother's body and watched as the flames licked his clothes and began to set him aflame. "Fire and blood."

All the men in the room gasped, startled and astonished at the Princess's actions. Watching as the flames surrounded Rhaegar's body, they turned his skin dark, flaking it off from the flesh and eventually melting everything off the bone. Helaena stared at her brother's body, the pool of blood that had surrounded it soaking the bottom of her skirts, and came up with only one conclusion. The Prince Rhaegar, Heir to the Seven Kingdoms and House Targaryen, was not a true dragon.

With her eyes cast toward the throne, Helaena envisioned all that her and her father had talked about when she was just a little girl, before he had gone mad. All that was promised to her, despite the unfortunate result of her sex. Turning back to Robert, Helaena looked contemplative for a moment—as if trying to decide how to proceed after the ultimate goal had been won. "It seems like I'm the last dragon in King's Landing," walking up to Robert, Helaena passed her brother's burning body and looked up at the Baratheon lord expectantly, "Well, are you going to bend the knee?"

The Baratheon contemplated the order for a second before following his impulse as always and getting on his knee, eyes firmly on the ground. He had grown alongside Helaena for a brief period of time, trusted her above any other Targaryen, any other person really save maybe Ned, and the Lord of the Stormlands knew that she would be great. "I, Robert of House Baratheon, First of his Name, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, Lord of Storm's End, swear fealty to you, Queen Helaena, Second of her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realms,"

"Helaena?" the now-Queen turned toward Ned Star, who was watching her questioningly, unsure of how to proceed next. Ned, who was so Northern in his ways, treasured honor and duty above all. And part of that was following tradition, "But Viserys, he is next in line for the throne,"

"Will you not swear fealty to me Ned?" Helaena turned away from Robert and made her way slowly toward the newest Warden of the North—dress still soaking up blood and turning the white fabric more and more crimson, "Viserys is unfit to be King, he's unfit to rule anything really," the Queen shrugged dismissively, "Right now he and my mother, along with my unborn sibling, are on a ship headed for Essos. Where they will remain, as I secure and rule the Seven Kingdoms,"

"So you will ask them to return once everything is safe?" Ned Stark, all honor and loyalty, it made Helaena want to laugh.

Placing a delicate hand on Ned's shoulder, Helaena shook her head softly, "No, they won't. As repayment toward your House for the pain that my father has wrought, for your family he has killed—they will be exiled to Essos and stay there until after such a time I see fit to let them return. I will be the last true Targaryen in Westeros for a long while yet,"

Ned faltered, as much as he wanted justice for his family—Aerys was dead. The newest Warden didn't think he needed anything more in order for justice to be repaid. But he trusted Helaena, more than most people, had grown and been fostered with her and Robert in the Vale for a brief period of time. The bonds between them were deep and Ned loved her above all others, "Helaena, you do not have to do that," the last thing Ned wanted was to see Helaena in pain from being separated from her family.

"Bend the knee Ned," Helaena interrupted, "And we can discuss the matter of my family's status some other time" pushing down on Ned's shoulder, the Queen looked up at him beseechingly.

Taking another moment of hesitation, in which the other two men in the room waited with bated breath to see what action he would pursue, Ned eventually went down on his one knee, looking up and staring unflinchingly into Helaena's eyes, "I, Eddard of House Stark, First of His Name, Lord Paramount and Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell, swear fealty to you, Queen Helaena of House Targaryen, Second of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm,"

Smiling, Helaena placed a delicate kiss on Ned's cheek, that sent his face aflame, before taking him by the hand and helping him to his feet. Sharing one last look with Ned, Helaena let go and turned toward the throne. Walking toward it slowly, going over the bodies of both her brother and her father, Helaena made her way toward the Iron Throne.

Just before reaching the throne, Helaena turned her glance briefly toward Jaime Lannister, who was standing nervously in the corner of the room—waiting to see what his fate would be. "Will you be representing House Lannister, Kingslayer? Or will I have to wait for your father to come and bend the knee? I would so like to see Tywin Lannister on his knees in front of me," Helaena laughed, before taking another step and sitting down and settling herself on the Iron Throne.

Men from her father's Kingsguard, and now her Queensguard, as well as the separate armies of the North and the Stormlands, began to filter in—no doubt finishing their pillaging of the palace. The knights of Aerys Kingsguard, began to line up in front of the dais—waiting to hear direction from their new Queen—having seen the dead bodies of Rhaegar and Aerys and deducing for themselves exactly who was in charge now.

"Bring me the Lords of each Great House so that they may come bend the knee and reaffirm their loyalties to House Targaryen," Helaena turned to Jaime and stopped him before he could make his way out, "Kingslayer! Go bring me the Mountain. He and I have much to talk about,"

A cool shiver of trepidation went down Jaime's spine at the look in Helaena's eyes. Everyone had heard of what the man known as the Mountain had down to Princess Elia and her children—their screams could be heard all throughout the Red Keep. Jaime knew that whatever the Queen had in mind for Ser Gregor Clegane, it was not quickly. Nodding hastily, the Kingslayer made his way out.

Helaena turned to Ned and Robert, "I'll need your counsel—we have much to do in order to reassemble some kind of order,"