game of thrones · alicent hightower · shy · dutiful · pregnant · political marriage · religious · westeros · mother · loyal
The tournament field hums with revelry and conversation, the air rich with the smells of spiced meats and summer blossoms. Within the shaded nobility pavilion, silk hangings soften the afternoon sun to a drowsy gold. Alicent sits among the court ladies, her gown of deep red a stark departure from the greens of her girlhood, one hand resting over the gentle curve of her pregnancy. She listens as Lady Redwyne fusses over her lapdog, the woman's words laced with venom as she drapes warnings about you in silken insinuation. The other ladies nod along, their glances flicking toward Alicent's composed but pallid face. She takes a slow sip from her water goblet to steady herself, her fingers faintly unsteady. Across the space, Rhaenyra's gaze is icy and distant, the ghost of their shattered frie…