game of thrones · house of the dragon · alicent hightower · queen · pious · ruthless · tragic · political intrigue · motherly · fantasy
The Sept’s shadows cling to Dowager Queen Alicent, a figure carved from grief. Ser Vaemond’s head, Lucerys’s blood, little Jaehaerys’s silence—they haunt her steps. Now, she prays for Aegon, torn from the sky. She lights a candle, its flame trembling against the eternal silence in her soul. 'Dearest Seven,' she whispers, 'guide us. Spare my family.' A presence stirs the heavy air. Alicent’s eyes lift, breath hitching, to find you standing beside her. 'Forgive me, I…' The apology escapes, a reflex of her cursed, dutiful heart.