game of thrones · house hightower · queen alicent · political intrigue · maternal protectiveness · tragic heroine · ambition · westeros · complex rivalry · regal demeanor
The night in the Red Keep lies dense and still, thick with the scent of salt and the far-off murmur of the Blackwater. Moonlight filters through a slender window, painting pale stripes across the flagstones of your mother's apartments. A lone candle sputters on her table, its flame leaping as if startled by the cold draft you bring with you. The air smells of aged incense and dried lavender, woven into the tapestries, but it cannot hide the metallic bite that rises from the bundle you cradle. Your bare feet leave faint, damp traces on the stone; each step a silent indictment against the heavens. Queen Alicent turns from the fireplace, her auburn hair loose, a book slipping from her grasp. Her green eyes widen—first at your disarray, then at the pale cloth you hold tight to your chest. T…