(A/N):
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After travelling for days...
The forest thinned as Helaena rode on.
The further north she went, the quieter the world became. Villages grew sparse.
Patrols fewer. Even the road itself seemed older here, less maintained by human hands and more by time.
The air felt… different. Not hostile. Watchful.
Then she saw it.
The Demon Wall.
It stretched across the land like a scar carved by a god's claw—vast, dark stone fused with veins of strange minerals that caught the moonlight in dull crimson and violet hues.
It was not jagged or aggressive in shape, but smooth and absolute, as if the land itself had agreed to stop here.
No banners flew above it. No horns sounded. No threat was spoken.
It simply was.
Helaena pulled her hood lower over her silver hair and guided her horse toward the main gate—a massive archway left open, almost casually so.
That unsettled her more than any sealed portcullis would have.
Two guards stood watch.
They were not armored like Westerosi soldiers. Their gear was functional, clean, and strangely uniform.
One had wolf-like ears visible beneath his helm.
The other's eyes gleamed faintly in the dark, inhuman but calm.
They noticed her immediately.
Helaena's heart tightened as they stepped forward—but there was no barked command, no weapon drawn.
"...."
"Traveler," one of them said evenly. "To pass the Great Wall, there is a toll."
She blinked caught off gaurd.
-Blink
"…A toll?"
"Yes," the guard replied, utterly serious. "One Eldorian dollar."
She stared fora moment and snapped out of her thought.
"…I don't have that."
"That's fine," the other guard added, gesturing casually. "Seven Kingdoms currency is accepted. Gold only. Coin value doesn't matter—metal purity does."
It took her a second to process that.
No interrogation. No accusations. No questions of allegiance or name.
Just… procedure.
Still stunned, Helaena reached into her pouch and produced a handful of Westerosi coins—dragons, stags, mixed and worn.
She handed them over with slightly shaking fingers.
The guard weighed them in his palm, nodded once, and pocketed them.
"Accepted."
He stepped aside.
"You may pass."
That was it.
No inspection.No escort.No threats.
"...."
Helaena hesitated at the threshold, glancing back once—half-expecting arrows, or magic, or judgment.
Nothing came.
She guided her horse forward.
As she crossed beneath the arch, she felt a subtle sensation wash over her—like stepping into cool water on a hot day. Not invasive. Not probing. Just… acknowledging.
Behind her, the world she knew receded.
Ahead of her, the land beyond the Demon Wall opened wide—roads smooth and well-lit even without torches, distant lights glimmering like fallen stars, and an overwhelming sense that whatever lay ahead would see her, not cage her.
Helaena let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
-Sigh
"So this is land behind the demon wall…" she murmured.
And for the first time since leaving the Red Keep, she felt something unfamiliar but precious settle in her chest.
Beyond the Demon Wall, the world felt… reordered.
Helaena guided her horse along the road, senses sharp, listening more than watching.
This land did not feel lawless or hostile—if anything, it felt settled, as though it already knew what it was and had no need to prove it.
The banners she passed were unfamiliar.
Not the crowned stag. Not the dragon.
Instead, sigils of wolves, trees, rivers, and symbols she didn't recognize at all—marks of lords who had chosen Eldoria rather than bent the knee to King's Landing.
From snippets of conversation drifting through the night air, she pieced together more.
Merchants at a roadside rest stop spoke freely, unguarded.
"…Eldoria's an island," one said, tightening the straps on a cart.
"Surrounded by sea that listens to it," another replied. "Storms part when its allied ships pass."
"No armies needed. Nature itself keeps the gate."
An island.
Helaena's heart sank slightly.
"...."
She had crossed a forbidden wall, fled a crown, defied her family—but now she stood landlocked, penniless, and far from her destination.
Every coin she owned had gone to the toll. Not stolen. Not extorted. Simply… spent.
She slowed her horse, pulling it aside near a quiet waystone.
'Think,'
She told herself.
Panic would only drag her back into the patterns she had fled.
She considered her options.
Returning was impossible.
Stealing felt wrong—and dangerous. Revealing her name would invite pursuit since her father was the enemy of these lands.
As she sat there, weighing choices, a soft voice spoke nearby.
"First time crossing the Wall?"
Helaena turned sharply.
A middle-aged woman stood beside a covered wagon, her clothes plain but well-kept, eyes sharp with the kind of intelligence earned on long roads.
A trader, she guessed.
The woman's gaze flicked briefly to Helaena's posture, her accent, her silver hair half-hidden beneath the hood.
She knew. But she didn't bow. Didn't kneel. Didn't call her anything at all.
"Yes," Helaena admitted quietly.
The woman smiled, not unkindly.
"You look like someone who thought the danger would be louder."
Helaena let out a small, humorless breath.
-Sigh
"I… need to reach Eldoria."
"Don't we all," the trader chuckled.
-Chuckle
"Problem is, you don't go to Eldoria. You're taken there."
That caught Helaena's attention. "Taken?"
"Trade ships, patrol vessels, messenger escorts," the woman explained. "Eldoria doesn't let just anyone sail blind into its waters. Too many tried with hostile. Didn't come back. Before the great wall was build."
She studied Helaena more closely now.
"You have no coin, do you?"
Helaena hesitated, then nodded.
-Nod
The woman sighed theatrically.
-Sigh
"Figures. All right. You don't look like a runaway thief, and you definitely don't look like a spy. You look like someone running from something."
That hit too close.
"My convoy leaves for the coast at dawn," the trader continued. "From there, Eldorian ships decide who boards. If they take you, good. If they don't…" She shrugged. "You'll still be safer than you were."
"And why help me?" Helaena asked softly.
The woman's expression turned thoughtful.
"Because whatever Eldoria is doing, it's given people choices again. And because,"
She added with a knowing look, "someone important enough to risk the Demon Wall usually matters to someone on the other side."
Helaena lowered her head, emotion tightening her throat.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," the trader said, turning back to her wagon. "Eldoria has a way of deciding things for itself."
As the night deepened, Helaena settled near the campfire, wrapping her cloak tighter around her shoulders.
She had no gold.
No name she could safely use.
No certainty she would be allowed passage.
The woman who had earlier introduced herself as a merchant did not hesitate.
The moment she was out of sight, she slipped between tents and low wagons, murmuring hurriedly to the nearest patrol.
Her words were sharp, practiced, almost eager.
"A suspicious girl by the fire. Silver hair. Hood doing a poor job of hiding it," she whispered. "High chance she's a Targaryen."
That was all it took.
The guards did not rush in with weapons drawn.
Anyone who crossed the Great Wall was given a moment to breathe, to reveal intent once their nerves settled.
Suspicion here was handled quietly, cleanly.
They approached in pairs.
Boots crunched softly over gravel and frostbitten grass.
The fire popped, sparks drifting upward as Helaena Targaryen sat stiffly near it, staring into the flames as if answers might rise from them.
Her hood had slipped again, pale silver strands betraying her no matter how many times she tried to tuck them away.
She sensed them before she saw them.
Her shoulders tensed.
Fingers curled into her cloak.
She did not reach for a weapon.
Running would only confirm everything.
The guards slowed, hands hovering near their belts.
"Miss," one of them began, voice measured, neutral. "We just need a word—"
Reality folded.
Not exploded. Not shattered.
It folded, like a page turned by an invisible hand.
A presence manifested behind Helaena, close enough that the warmth at her back was immediate and undeniable.
No footsteps. No warning. Just there.
Every guard froze.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Muscles locked. Breath caught halfway in lungs.
They knew who it was without turning around.
No banners. No announcement. No need.
The shadows at their feet subtly bent toward a single point.
The guards turned as one, dropped to one knee, heads bowed.
"Your Majesty."
Helaena felt it then—the way the night itself had gone still, the way the firelight no longer danced freely but seemed to hesitate.
Slowly, carefully, she turned her head.
A man stood behind her.
Young. Calm. Draped in dark armor that looked less forged and more grown.
Shadows clung to him like old companions.
Leo Morningstar.
The guards exchanged brief glances, then rose without being told.
None of them questioned why he was here.
None of them asked how long he had been watching.
They stepped back, melting into the perimeter, resuming their patrols as if nothing unusual had happened.
He would handle it.
Helaena stood abruptly, nearly knocking over the log she had been sitting on.
"...."
She swallowed, heart hammering.
-Gulp
"I—" Her voice caught. She tried again. "I wasn't trying to cause trouble."
"I know," Leo said calmly.
Two words. No doubt in them.
"...."
She stared at him, moonlight outlining her pale face, fear and exhaustion mixing with something dangerously close to hope.
"I just… I needed to cross the wall."
Leo's gaze lingered briefly on her hair, then returned to her eyes.
"You crossed it," he replied. "That alone means something."
The fire crackled again, louder now, as if the world had finally remembered how to breathe.
The man stood just behind her, close enough that she could feel warmth that had no right to exist in winter air.
The moon framed him perfectly, silver light spilling over black armor etched with faint, living shadows.
His eyes—deep crimson, luminous—met hers without hostility, without hunger.
Only curiosity.
For a heartbeat, she forgot how to breathe.
"...."
So this was him. The one whispered about as a god. The king beyond the sea.
The name that made crowns tremble. Leo Morningstar.
He looked… young.
Too young for the weight the world placed on him.
Yet the shadows at his feet moved as though they answered to his pulse.
"You crossed the Demon Wall alone,"
He said calmly. His voice carried no accusation, just fact.
"With no coin, no escort, and no disguise worth the effort."
Helaena swallowed. Her fingers tightened in her cloak.
-Gulp
Running again would be pointless. Lying felt… useless.
"I didn't come as an enemy," she said, steadying herself. "And I didn't come for refuge."
That earned a faint lift of his brow.
"I came because my father told me to,"
She continued, her voice softer now.
"He said if my brothers ever turned on me… I should find my sister."
She met his gaze fully, silver hair catching the firelight despite her hood.
"I came for Rhaenyra."
The shadows stilled.
"...."
Leo studied her—not like a king judging a petitioner, but like something older, weighing threads of fate that only he could see.
Her fear was real. Her resolve, fragile but unbroken.
And beneath it all, a familiar ache—the kind that came from being born into a crown that devoured its own.
"You're bad at hiding,"
He remarked lightly, glancing at her hair.
Helaena let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
-Sigh
"I was never taught how."
A corner of his mouth curved, not quite a smile.
"You're safe," he said simply.
Two words. Spoken with such certainty that the night itself seemed to accept them as law.
She felt her knees weaken—not from fear, but from relief so sharp it hurt.
Leo turned, gesturing toward the darkened road beyond the camp.
"You won't be taking a ship."
She blinked in confusion.
"Then how—"
"By the time the sun rises," he interrupted, "you'll be in Eldoria."
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)I hope you guys are enjoying the story.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
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And power stone!!!
It will Motivate Me.