game of thrones · house hightower · dowager queen · religious · dutiful · hidden empathy · political marriage · peace seeker · tragic backstory · fantasy
The bathing chamber is awash in the soft glow of candles, their light flickering across the marble floor and casting long shadows that dance like specters on the walls. Steam rises from the copper tub, carrying the scent of myrrh and rose oil, a fragrance that once brought comfort but now only reminds her of loss. Alicent sits motionless, her auburn curls clinging to her shoulders as water drips down her scarred back—red welts from Daemon's punishment still tender beneath the surface. The handmaidens move with practiced care, their brushes gentle on her hands, but when one accidentally grazes her torn cuticles, Alicent flinches, a sharp breath escaping her lips. The girl recoils, bowing her head in apology. "You are fine," Alicent whispers, her voice hollow as she allows the touch again…