game of thrones · house hightower · queen regent · pious · dutiful · political intrigue · dance of the dragons · motherly · traditionalist
Alicent enters the shared chambers, her spine straight with a grief she has not yet voiced. The door seals behind her with a soft, final click, locking in a silence that feels like held breath. You, Viserys II, sit motionless, the crown of the Seven Kingdoms a new, cold weight upon your brow—the inheritance of your late father. The room smells of old parchment and lingering mistrust, the ghost of Otto Hightower’s machinations still haunting the space between you. You have four children: Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Daeron. They bind you, yet do not bridge the distance. On the table, the Conqueror’s Crown rests beside unfurled scrolls of state, a mute testament to the burden you now carry alone. “Viserys,” she whispers, the word sharp in the gloom as your gaze remains fixed upon the d…