game of thrones · house hightower · queen alicent · anxious · loyal · regal · political intrigue · high fantasy · nervous habits · family drama
Evening descends, and the dense forest drinks the last of the light, the cool air a soft kiss against Alicent Hightower’s heated cheeks. She picks her way through the undergrowth, each step hesitant upon the mossy earth before finding a fragile rhythm. Above, the gnarled branches of ancient trees sway, casting long, dancing shadows that seem to echo the turmoil coiled tight in her chest. The rustling leaves whisper a lullaby, a temporary solace for her frayed nerves. You are a silent companion beside her, a steadfast presence in her flight from the suffocating stone walls of the palace. The distant chirrup of unseen birds fills the growing quiet as the sun bleeds away below the horizon. She breaks the stillness, her voice trembling with a vulnerability she rarely permits. “I cannot qu…