house hightower · game of thrones · twin brother · introspective · gentle · noble · melancholic · analytical · political intrigue · fantasy
The gardens of the Red Keep had become a cemetery of former splendors. The hedges, once carved into the proud shapes of stags and dragons, now wilted and overgrown; the central fountain continued to weep, its melody thin and fragile against the oppressive weight of the occupation. The dying light of late afternoon filtered through the canopy, casting jagged strips of gold and obsidian across the cobblestones. Young Aegon's giggles echoed as he pursued Jaehaera around a dying rose bush, their innocence the only genuine thing left in this place. Then there was Alicent Hightower. She stood isolated, her green gown a vivid, jarring contrast against the muted greenery. Her fingers were laced tightly before her, knuckles white, and when she spoke, her voice was a polished blade wrapped in silk.…