We fell on hard times and we lost our bright color

[FireWalker666]

Lucy Gray's breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as she crouched behind the thick brush, the cold of the early winter morning seeping into her bones. The forests familiar paths twisted into a maze by fear and desperation. She could hear him—the crunch of boots on snow, the steady, relentless pursuit of Coriolanus Snow.

She clutched her shawl closer, the vibrant colors now muted and dusted with snowflakes. A part of her wanted to scream, to break the eerie silence of the woods, but she knew better. She had to be quiet. She had to be clever. This was her last chance.

Her mind raced back to the Covey, to the songs and stories that once made her feel invincible. But those days felt as distant as a dream, slipping away with each step Snow took toward her hiding place. She'd escaped the troubles of the Games, and Capitol, but it seemed that fate was not done with her.

Lucy's hand tightened around a stone, her only weapon now that all else had failed. She could feel her chest pounding faster than the footsteps growing closer. Her mind drifted to the song she had sung not long ago, the haunting notes still lingering amongst the mockingjays.

She thought of Snow—of the boy who had both saved and doomed her. There had been a time when she believed there was more to him, something beyond the Capitol's cold, calculating cruelty. But now she knew. The peaceful beauty of snow had given way to a cruel blizzard, one that would swallow her whole if she didn't find a way out.

A sharp crack in the distance made her flinch, and instinctively she rose, darting from her hiding place. She could see the creek ahead, frozen over but still flowing beneath the ice. If she could reach it, maybe, just maybe, she could disappear as the water did, vanishing beneath the surface, unseen, untouched.

But fate was not so kind. A shot rang out, loud and sharp, splitting the air. Pain bloomed in her side, spreading like wildfire, but she barely cried out. She couldn't afford to, her vision blurring as the world tilted around her. The snow beneath her feet turned red, and she fell, the cold seeping into her, becoming one with the frost.

The forest seemed to grow quieter, the wind dying down. Lucy Gray's thoughts drifted, no longer sharp, no longer focused on survival. She thought of home, of Maude Ivory's sweet voice, of the way the world had once felt so full of promise. The cruelty of the Capitol, of the Games, of Snow himself—it all seemed so distant now, like something from a long lost dream.

Her vision darkened, the edges of the world fading to black. But before the darkness took her, Lucy Gray had one final thought, a fleeting, bittersweet memory of the old poem, of the girl who wandered into the snow and was never seen again.

The peaceful beauty of snow gave way to a cruel blizzard, she thought, as the last bit of warmth left her body, leaving only cold, and dark.

And then, there was nothing for a time besides the call of birds, but eventually embers of fire lit the way.

---

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the Red Keep as Helaena wandered through the gardens, her steps slow and measured. She was alone, as she often was, finding solace among the flowers and the whisper of the wind through the leaves. The scents of blooming roses and jasmine filled the air, but it was the wild herbs and grasses that always caught her attention—the faint, familiar aroma that reminded her of somewhere else, of someone else.

She paused by a patch of lavender, running her fingers lightly over the purple buds, the sensation grounding her in the present, even as her thoughts drifted to the past. It had taken years, but the fragments of her other life had slowly pieced themselves together, like a puzzle. At first, they had been fleeting—a song on her lips that no one in Westeros knew, the instinct to scan her surroundings for danger even when she was safe, a sense of déjà vu that lingered just beyond her reach.

But now, at ten years old, the memories had become more coherent, more persistent. She remembered the woods, the cold bite of snow, and a voice that was both hers and not hers singing to the trees, to the stars, to a boy with ice in his heart. She recalled the fear well, but also the strength and cunning that had carried her through those dark days. They called her Helaena here, but she had once been Lucy Gray, and that part of her had never truly left.

Helaena sat down on the cool stone bench, her eyes distant as she gazed out over the city below. King's Landing was nothing like District 12, yet there was something about the people here, in the shadow of the castle, that reminded her of the life she had once led. The small folk were different from the nobility, their lives hard, their joys simple, much like the Covey had been. And though she was a princess, a Targaryen with the blood of dragons, she felt a kinship with them that she couldn't explain to anyone.

She had tried, once, to speak of her past life to her mother in this world, but the queen had only smiled, dismissing it as a child's fanciful imagination. Even her brothers didn't understand, though Aemond listened with more interest than Aegon ever did. She cared for them, especially Aemond, but it wasn't the same. They all seemed detached, their lives far removed from the grounding she had known in District 12. The people there had understood things differently, had lived with a rawness and a connection to the world that was absent here, in the cold stone of the Red Keep.

She thought of her long dead siblings, and the cousins she left in another life, those who had sung and danced with her, who had understood her in a way few there and no one here ever would. Her true mother, the woman who had bathed her in love that felt like milk and roses, a comfort she had never found again, even in the most tender moments with her royal mother. The life she had known in Panem and 12 had been hard, and cruel but her families love had been fierce, protective, and all-encompassing, a warmth in the harshest winters. Here, the love she received felt colder, more distant, like a reflection in a frozen pond, beautiful but untouchable.

Lucy tried to keep the memories and the songs alive, weaving them into her life here, hidden in plain sight. She would sing the old tunes softly, in corners of the Keep where no one of importance ventured, and the smallfolk who heard her would smile, their hearts lightened by the melodies of a far-off land. It was a small consolation, but it was something. A way to stay connected to who she had been, to what she had lost.

But there were some songs—songs with words too sharp, too dangerous—that she had to be careful with. Her royal mother had raised concerns about the content of a few, their lyrics too bleak, too filled with a despair that didn't belong in the Red Keep. And her grandfather…well, he scared her even more, his disapproval a shadow that loomed over her every note. So she was cautious, picking and choosing which songs to sing and which words to leave out. When no one troubling was around, she would return to the authentic versions, whispering them to the wind, as if the trees might remember and keep her secret safe.

A rustle in the bushes drew her attention, and she turned, her senses on high alert. It was just a squirrel, darting through the undergrowth, but the tension in her body remained. Old habits died hard, even in a new life. She knew the dangers of being too complacent, too trusting. In another world, she had learned that lesson well.

Rising to her feet, Helaena made her way toward the edge of the gardens, where the walls of the Keep overlooked the narrow streets below. From here, she could see the bustling market, hear the distant hum of voices, the clatter of carts, and the cries of merchants. She watched the people move about their day, her heart pulling in two directions—toward the life she had and the life she once knew.

"They don't see us, do they?" she whispered to herself, echoing a thought she'd had many times before. In the Capitol, she had been invisible to those in power, just another pawn in their games. Here, as a princess, she was seen, but not truly known. They saw her silver hair, her dragon's blood, but they didn't see her, the girl who had once been Lucy Gray, the girl who had walked through snow and shadow to survive.

But one day, they would. She would find a way to bridge these two worlds, to bring what she had learned in one life into the next. She didn't know how yet, but she would. She had survived the Capitol. She could survive anything.

With a final glance at the city below, Helaena turned and walked back into the Keep

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A.N. Don't mind me just was listening to the Hunger Games : Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes OST and had this idea enter my head and refuse to leave till I put this out into the world. I have ideas for this but I am more focused on other fics atm. Am still curious what people think and if it happens to inspire anyone else to write something similar all the better.

Note regarding my interpretations of Lucy Grays history: At one point in the books Lucy says her mother used to bathe her in milk and roses. Which seems farfetched to me given th economic state of panem. So im more inclined to think Lucy was embellishing a bit and moreso a metaphor for her mother's love for her.

Obviously in the actual story Lucy's death(?) Is left ambiguous and I personally like to think she lived but for the sake of this story she died in those woods of district 12 as snow landed on top.