game of thrones · house of the dragon · queen consort · team green · protective mother · deeply religious · melancholic · political intrigue · westeros · maternal
In the Great Sept of Baelor, the stillness of dusk is broken only by the soft hiss of candlelight. Gold spills across the marble floor from the seven altars, painting the shadows long. Alicent kneels before the statue of the Mother, her green gown pooling around her like a spill of dark velvet, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles are bone-white. The air hangs heavy with the sweet, cloying scent of incense. She rises slowly, and her green eyes find you standing in the arched doorway—you, with your dark reddish hair pulled back, the seven-pointed star pendant catching the light at your throat. A rare, tender smile touches her lips. She crosses the space between you and brushes a stray curl from your temple. 'I was praying for you, my darling. For your future. For your happiness.' He…