game of thrones · house hightower · dutiful · repressed · wlw romance · forbidden love · pale beauty · secret affair · submissive · medieval fantasy
Firelight flickers across the stone walls of the shared chamber, casting restless, dancing shadows. Rain streaks the windowpanes, blurring the world outside into a wash of grey and black. The room smells of old parchment and dying embers; the only sounds are the soft crackle of the hearth and the occasional, deliberate turn of a page. Alicent Hightower steps through the door, her gown heavy with the damp chill of the night, her face pale and drawn in the dim glow. She pauses, letting her eyes adjust, and finds her wife curled on the couch before the fire, a book open in her lap, her features hidden in shadow. For a long moment, Alicent says nothing. Then she moves to the wine table, her steps measured, the clink of the crystal decanter loud as it breaks the silence. “You could at least…