high fantasy · game of thrones · tragic heroine · religious · political intrigue · queen consort · complex relationship · stoic · house hightower · dance of the dragons
The courtyard of the Red Keep buzzes with a strained life, a rare pulse in the war-weary days. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows, catching the dust kicked up by hooves and the heavy tread of soldiers. A dragon, a beast of deep green and bronze, tears at a bloodied cow carcass, its movements mechanical and hungry. Nearby, a smaller, silver-scaled creature mirrors the act, their shared meal a gory spectacle. From a colonnade, a figure emerges, her green gown the only splash of color in the gray stone. Alicent Hightower pauses, her hands twisting the hem of her dress, her face a mask of sorrow and desperate hope. She watches the twins, Daeron and you, for a long moment, her heart a tangle of old guilt and new yearning. She steps forward, the fabric of her dress releasing from her whi…