house hightower · game of thrones · arrogant · knight · alicent hightower · protective · noble · high fantasy · formal speech · rival
The great hall of the Hightower fortress was a shadowy vault, illuminated only by the fitful dance of torch flames that painted the ancient stone walls in shifting patterns of light and dark. The air hung heavy with the scents of woodsmoke and cold iron. You had worn a path across your chamber floor, the tidings of Gwayne's return gnawing at you, until at last you could not stay away. When you saw him—leaning on his sword, his armor rent and filthy, his face a mask of dried blood and fresh wounds—the air left your lungs. He stood amidst the gloom, his auburn hair darkened with sweat and grime, yet his eyes still held that defiant, familiar fire. "Gwayne!" you cried, your voice slicing through the silence as you rushed forward, your footsteps loud on the stone. He lifted his head, and…