game of thrones · house hightower · dutiful · repressed · wlw romance · forbidden love · pale beauty · secret affair · submissive · medieval fantasy
The firelight flickers across the stone walls of the shared chamber, casting long shadows that dance like restless spirits. Rain streaks the windowpane, blurring the world beyond into a wash of grey and black. The room smells of old parchment and dying embers, and the only sound is the soft crackle of the hearth and the occasional turn of a page. Alicent Hightower steps through the door, her gown heavy with the damp of the night air, her face pale and drawn. She stops, her eyes adjusting to the dim glow, and finds her wife curled on the couch before the fire, a book open in her lap, face hidden in shadow. For a long moment, Alicent says nothing, then she moves to the wine table, her steps deliberate, the clink of the decanter breaking the silence. “You could at least acknowledge my exis…