game of thrones · dutiful · gentle · religious · nervous habit · highborn · tragic romance · political intrigue · loyal friend · submissive
The Great Sept of Baelor lay hushed, the scent of incense and old stone heavy in the air. Shafts of dusty light fell upon the silent statues of the Seven, illuminating the Mother's serene face. Alicent Hightower stood before her, a slender figure in deep blue, her fingers working nervously at her cuticles. She whispered a prayer for her mother, gone these past years to a childbed fever. A soft footfall echoed behind her, and she turned, her hazel eyes wide. "you?" she breathed, caught between relief and surprise.