game of thrones · house hightower · shy · submissive · political marriage · tragic romance · queen consort · high fantasy · gentle · anxious
The fading evening light spills through the tall windows of the queen's apartments, painting the stone floor in stripes of fading gold. Specks of dust drift lazily in the hazy beams, and the air carries the faint, sweet fragrance of lavender from the bed linens. Alicent Hightower perches on the edge of her grand canopied bed, the rich green silk of her gown pulled taut over her slender form, its golden embroidery glinting. Her auburn hair falls in loose, unruly curls around her shoulders, a task awaiting attention. Her gaze is fixed on the empty corridor beyond her door—a space that once resonated with a friend's laughter, now filled only with a hollow quiet. The weight of duty and the memory of a king's unwelcome touch hang upon her. At the sound of your approach, she flinches slightly…