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fatherforgivethem · 2 months

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A fall from grace

Chapter 1

Word count: 4.5k

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Melissa knew what she wanted ever since she was a girl. She wanted a place, utterly her own, to escape to when her father would come back drunk or her mother would fuss over her to the point of exhaustion. Something far away and high up so she could see the clouds and their fluffy borders shining around her through the daylight vaguely obscuring their familial beacon of green. She also knew didn't want to leave home. Oldtown was too embedded in her for her to want to part with it willingly.

She'd been told that she'd have to wed some day and being shipped away to a land further away from whatever civilization she'd come to know hardly seemed exciting, especially belonging to someone who'd try to lock her up for his own gain.

“It is time for you to grow up dearie” her septa had reminded her on many such occasions. “You’re to be a young lady of an important house someday. Better start by acting the part”

“I am already a lady of an important house” is what she always replied with and that was that.

“What are you dreaming of, cousin? Is your head lost in the clouds again”

She turned to face her companion for the day, half reclined on the lush settee nearby with his arm dangling off at an angle, restlessly trying to procure something just out of reach. “I thought you were sent here to look after me” he said mischievously.

“Does the prince have any more complaints that he wishes to enumerate” she found herself replying with a huff.

“Only that you haven't been paying close attention to him. I think you're far more interested in Tessarion than me” he said conspiratorially, leaning towards her.

She found herself shaking her head slightly, just enough to be polite rather than deny the accusation outright.

“You've been hurt your grace, you should be resting”

“And I'm tired of it”

“My father wouldn't approve of you further exerting yourself” she teased before they both broke into laughter. Her father was too lost in his own world to notice.

Gwayne Hightower was as eccentric as they came; brash, bold, foul mouthed and exciting. When she was younger, he'd taken her on his shoulders all around the city whenever she pleased, till her mother had screamed her throat raw and she'd giggled with delight throughout the winding cobbled streets. Her childhood had been full of fun, of colors so bright and laughter at every corner all till it wasn't. Being a maiden wasn't so bad, she just couldn't live the way she wanted to, in front of the eyes she wished to be free the most.

“You’re being sent there in my place Melissa. Try to look more cheerful”

“I'd hardly call it that. You'd be joining us in King's landing soon enough and I doubt Tessarion would do well without your presence for too long”

“We'd stick closer to home than venture out any soon”

She didn't miss the way his eyes wandered to the window, seeking her out wistfully. Prince Daeron had been a resident both of Oldtown and her father's shoulders, since as far as she could remember. He was the only one who had held the title of being equally spoiled as her. Her brothers came later on, much to their chagrin for his beloved sister's son, with his bright eyes and cheeky smile was far too cherished to be scolded. Besides he was a prince and despite being brought up in the same way as them and their cousins his name held more worth than all of them combined.

Daeron had been brought up in Lord Hobert’s household as a cupbearer for her uncle Lord Ormund. He'd eaten the same bread and served his family just as any of her cousins yet was awarded for all of it with a greater show of appreciation. The most however came from their cousin Bethany, the youngest and most capricious of the lot. She'd clung to him since childhood, always trailing behind him as his noisy shadow. She'd seen him go from encouraging to disparaging to enveloping her in his grace throughout the years, both delighting and irritating of her company at times yet always seeming to come back for more. As for Bethany, the word “besotted” was far too demure to explain what she felt for Prince Daeron.

“Help me up cousin, I wish to be free of my shackles” he asked, breaking her reverie.

“Not on my watch”

“I just need to sit upright Melissa”

“If only you'd been so careful on your mount”

He tutted in response, flicking a lock of silver falling on his face with a tilt of his head. “King’s landing has seemingly affected my young cousin before she's even stepped foot there. Where are your manners, young lady? You'll send any dashing lord running with them” he jested.

“What is it like?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her as she helped him sit up with assistance ignoring the jape at her countenance.

“You won't like it”

“In three words then”

Describing things they hadn't seen in three words was Gerold’s idea. Her little brother had come up with it one evening when he'd been upset at father not being able to tell his tale with the liveliness he usually mustered. It was a quick and easy way to know what the other meant when they were too irritable or distracted to make proper sense.

“Crowded, foul and family”

“That isn't saying much. I'd think it quite similar to Oldtown”

“Perhaps I'm not as descriptive as you'd like me to be, considering the position I'm in”

She laughed despite herself.

“You'll be fine, contrary to what I've said before. You have the courage of the Hightowers to make up for your lack of genteel”

“And you have the mouth of a sailor to make up for your lack of agility. Serving wine all day has dulled you up cousin”

“May the Gods pity the man you wed” he said with a huff plopping down again.

She laughed as she helped him settle back in before making her way to her own chambers, willing to enjoy whatever semblance of familiarity her home would offer till they departed soon.

-x-

Dinner was a lively affair. Most of the members of their house had been assembled in the giant hall of the High Tower for the occasion of sending them off in a grand way before they departed at noon on the morrow. She was to accompany her father on his journey to King's landing, which was more of an afterthought, hastily decided, given that she was now of age and was to be introduced to the highest and most influential bidder. Perhaps tonight was her last night of merriment before she faced her own war ahead.

The hall had been illuminated with flame, the lit candles and chandeliers casting green shadows which reflected through the stained glass of the seven around them, observing all that was happening with hidden wisdom of her own. It seemed more somber and foreboding than the guffaws which could be heard in between, almost as if the laughter of the lords held a tinge of insidiousness.

Things had been amiss ever since the incidence of Driftmark. They would get word from across the realm days after whatever incident had taken place yet its effects were almost always prolonged in this part of the world, predisposed to more speculation and over-thought. The crown and its allies were in shambles. That was what she concluded from all the murmuring around her. She wasn't often prone to exaggeration, only ever a bit when it came to matters more trivial but that is what appeared to her as she passed by animated whispers and indignant outbursts over chalices of wine.

She had also discerned that many of her elders thought her father to be incompetent for whatever they were being sent there for. The wrinkles of their noses and their vacant smiles of encouragement being passed around freely were proof enough.

Her eyes wandered to Daeron soon, propped up on one of the chairs surrounded by her own brothers and cousins equally engaged in an animated discussion with Bethany lingering nearby, long enough till she caught sight of her.

“Are you excited Melissa?” she asked, skipping over to her as she took her by the arm.

“Hardly” she responded distractedly, trying to focus on the talk around her.

“I would be if I were in your place but Lady Sam thinks I'm too young to be sent to the capitol. Father and her shall contemplate my own prospects closer to home” she replied with a giggle.

Lady Samantha was Bethany’s tactful step mother. Young and sharp, she always had a clever word to say, often ending even the most animated discussions with her quips. Her father, Lord Ormund had remarried years after their mother's death and was seemingly pleased with his new bride, as were most of the men of their house. It was the women who were far more wary of the charms of their sex, all except Bethany of course. For someone who contained equal parts naivety and wit she was all the more ignorant of the challenge in her way, something that lay much closer to home.

She knew the girl considered Daeron to be a suitable husband and he was in truth, dashing and charming as any prince she'd wager yet the dreams of her cousin were far too large for her. She couldn't blame her though, ambition had run in their lineage for generations.

“And how will you manage to secure prospects as such. I'm sure you've got something up your sleeve already dear cousin” she said as they continued meandering through the hall.

“Nothing much in particular just using my natural charms and talent of nursing”

“He doesn't need much of it”

“Well I shall help with it regardless. A kind gesture goes a long way”

“I'm sure it does Bethany yet he's no fool”

“I never took him to be one. I would hardly be interested if that were the case”

“They're planning much more for him” she said, suddenly willing for them to stop their promenade across the hall. “I know what you intend to do but I feel we're all embroiled in something far bigger than what is let on”

“Something you'll soon know once your visit bears fruit” she replied back delightedly.

“I don't think you understand cousin”

“I understand very well Melissa and I'm sure you'll keep me informed of all the interesting developments that take place.”

“I'll be frequent with my writing” she huffed back annoyed “You know I will”

“Well as frequent as I can be” she remarked sheepishly as Bethany gave her a pointed look. She could very well be imposing for someone so short.

“Everything shall work out well for us, you just need to be patient”

She hummed in response as they continued their walk slinking to the corners before getting engrossed in matters of triviality once again. Patience had never been one of her virtues.

-x-

She was woken up unexpectedly around the hour of the wolf. Her maid walked in with apologies on her tongue as she helped her with her dressing gown before presenting her to her mother and septa.

“You must greet the day with a smile Melissa” her mother said, hastening her towards her dresser to try and tame her hair.

“It is dark outside,” she remarked with a whine. “And we shan't leave till daybreak. Why must I make haste then?”

“She is not ready” her mother said, turning her head towards Septa Abigail who tutted in distaste.

“You must hold your nerve my lady. She is always disagreeable in the morn” she replied before disappearing into the shadows around her chambers.

Through her sleep-addled gaze she noticed a few of the candles nearby, almost close to being extinguished, indicating the early hour of the new day, bathing her chambers in their diminishing glow. She huffed impatiently as her mother got to work on her locks, teasing them into the elaborate hairdo of her own house. House Redwyne was known for their Arbour as well as their beauty although she supposed she hadn't inherited half of what her mother owned. She'd gone more after her father and was always told she made up for her lack of exceptional comeliness with unique charm.

“I've made sure everything is in order” said Septa Abigail, re emerging just as she had begun dozing off again.

“Thank you Septa,” her mother remarked. “There! You look much better Melissa. Now begin dressing while we go over what you've learnt”

“I am to not slouch or slump, to curtsey deeply bending as far as my knees can go without creaking, whenever I see someone above my station which is almost everyone there” she said earning a glare from her mother.

“And I'm to almost always greet everyone with respect and be polite even if I feel like stabbing them with the nearest fork I can find” she finished pirouetting to admire herself in the mirror ahead.

“And?”

“To address the Queen as befits her station before thinking of her as my aunt”

“And?”

“To be on my best behavior with her children?”

“And?”

“To beware of the dragon” she laughed with a mock roar as her maids finished helping her with her petticoat.

“It is a serious matter Melissa” her mother sighed, already exasperated with her answers.

“I won't involve myself with them unless absolutely necessary, mother. You worry too much. It is not good for the babe” she remarked, walking to hug her from the side before sneaking in a glance at herself again.

She had been dressed in emerald green silks with sleeves floating around her like the wings of a bird, reaching the middle of her stature. The middle of her bodice and skirts were a lighter green emerging through the silks in crepe, like the tower of their house, before fanning out in green swirls around her square neckline. Her attire was surprising as it was sure to wrinkle throughout their journey but she supposed her mother wanted her to look her best as a representative of their home when she was presented. She felt too much of a present in truth, waiting to be unwrapped, despite the fact that she did indeed look quite pretty.

“Only because you're too curious for your own good and seem to court trouble at every instance. Why must we leave her alone again Abigail?”

“Because you're in no condition to travel my lady and I'm tasked with looking after you. Besides you’ll be free of your troubles soon enough” she replied back winking at her.

“Jesting at dawn won’t do you any good Septa. What would the Mother think of your lack of mercy?” she said with mock indignation before turning towards her own “I'll be alright, don’t trouble yourself too much. You’ll have another little one to do so soon enough”

“Not as sweet as you my sweetling. There’s no one quite as lovely as my little flower” she replied, kissing her cheeks.

They were soon bundled up in the courtyard around the hour of the nightingale after a few grumbles from father. Gerold and Gilbert had been woken up to bid them goodbye and Prince Daeron had even gotten in a word of good luck before dozing off again. He'd soon be moved back to his old quarters, near Lord Ormund before joining them in a fortnight.

“When will you be back, father?” Gerold asked solemnly as he stood next to mother.

“Before this one is born boy” he replied, bending to kiss his mother sloppily. She could see her smile through it and wish him well.

“Take care of her Gwayne” her mother spoke with a sigh.

“You know I will” he replied back cheekily kissing her again. “She and I are going to have the most splendid time,” he responded merrily “And I'll be back before you know it” he finished kissing her belly.

She heard Gilbert roar a goodbye before circling around her like a dragon and attempting to stab father with a small, blunt knife.

“By the Gods boy, looks like there won't be any trouble for your mother while I'm gone”

“It's good I didn't give him a real one” he whispered to her as they mounted the carriage for their journey.

The last thing she heard as their retinue left was a chorus of “bye sister” “take care my love” “don't let your father drink too much” and declarations of care trailing behind as she stared wistfully out the window.

-x-

The journey to King's landing was far from eventful. Her father was drunk nearly an hour after they'd left, guzzling through his hidden stash of arbour red as soon as they'd passed through the city gates.

“Is this how you're going to be for the entirety of our journey? Cheer up sweetling” he said, slumping forwards in front of her.

“Pass me some of your wine”

“Your mother told me to keep you in check”

“I think that was meant as advice for me more than you” she responded. “Please I'm sick of sitting like an ornament. This dress crinkles even if I move an inch and I'm stiff already. Let me bear this price with ease”

“You make good arguments for yourself,” he said after a while, ignoring her complaints.

“Grandfather would be proud”

“Pissed more likely. Then again since you aren't his own child, he'd very likely approve of your wit”

“Is he that demanding?” she murmured, wringing her hands.

“More than Septa Abigail when she used to strike your knuckles for your awful recitation” he snorted.

“As if you were any better. Do you even remember a passage of the seven pointed star?”

“This isn't about me,” he retorted rather sheepishly.

“Can you recite one drunk as you are?”

“Perhaps if I put my mind to it”

“We have all the time in the world”

“And I'd rather not waste it on the seven” he huffed.

“They may hear you,” she said teasingly.

“Then I'd toast to their health and spend heartily for their cause from one of our coffers in abject penance” he mocked.

“What awaits us there?” she asked after a long pause. Her father had taken to staring out the windows and shouting a few slurred orders to the coachman in between, urging him to take another route to their next destination.

“Adventure” he replied with gleaming eyes and upon noticing her dissatisfaction he continued “You are to meet a few suitors arranged by father, whenever possible and we'll decide who's most suitable for a match”

“And then” she asked impatiently.

“And then you'd be wed, probably in a few moons time”

“So I'm to be auctioned”

“Exactly”

“You are not helping my nerves” she bit back irritated at the turn in conversation.

“Want some of this now” he said ignoring her remark.

“Please”

“At our next stop then. We should be reaching Highgarden soon”

She caught the scent of roses long before they were wheeled into the city. The sweetness as pleasant and aromatic as it was to her induced a bout of rather wretched sickness in her father who ordered the carriage to be stopped for him to empty his gut. Unlocking the lattice window, she peeked her head out to notice they'd stopped near an inn, obscure and at the outskirts of the main market.

“We're stopping here for a break my lady. Your father has ordered some refreshments for you”

Nearly an hour later they were on the move again with bellies full of a batch of cheap lemon tarts and flowing arbor red.

“You didn't think I'd stop just to vomit. These are the best tangy ones in town.”

“Bethany plans to marry Prince Daeron” she said suddenly. Perhaps the wine had already gone to her head or she just needed a better distraction. It worked either way, her father's ears had perked up pretty fast.

“What? Oh, you do not jest? Well she's well beyond herself.”

“Because he's a prince?”

“She isn't half as comely to be a princess.”

“Not all princesses are comely”

“And how would you know that?”

“Id assumed there was much more than beauty”

“She's too lazy to be one or perhaps that's a good start for her”

“That's what Lady Sam says and is entirely untrue. Since when do you fall for what is being gossiped about”

“She has a sister doesn't she?” he continued distractedly.

“Lady sam? Yes, her name’s Sansara”

“Hmm they plan to arrange another alliance with our house”

“With another Tarly?”

“I know! As if one wasn't enough” he replied excitedly.

“And here you were raving about her judgment moments ago”

“That tart?”

“Father!”

“It is only true”

“She's said to be the sweetest in Oldtown”

“The sailors have lost their taste at sea, if that is what's going around. Perhaps we ought to check on them more often”

“I thought you enjoyed a certain sweetness to things, like arbour red?”

“Sweet smiles and sharp tongues, yes, ones much closer to home”

“You're very charming, but too drunk to tell the difference”

“Perhaps that's a charm by itself. Your mother fell for it anyway” he finished. “Your husband shall not be such a drunk though. I'll make sure of it”

The rest of their journey passed in bouts of sleepiness, dozing off at awkward angles and swings of more wine. The nights and days often blurred together with the same monotony till they reached the edge of the capital.

“What is it now?” her father asked impatiently on the fifth day of their trip.

“The wheel on the back appears to have busted my lord. We'll hurry up and be back on the road in time” one of their guards replied.

The problem with traveling long distances however was that something almost always came up towards the end of journeys as such and often when one was wholly unprepared. The wheel took longer to be fixed and there were not enough horses to carry them to their destination.

“They've sent for the royal carriage. We just have to wait it out” her father said, pinching the bridge of his nose in distaste.

“How long will that take?” she asked nervously.

“A little while more. You needn't worry. I for one need a jug of cheap ale to get me through this fateful morn”

“Grandfather?” she asked, raising her eyebrows earning an exasperated huff in return.

Nearly an hour later, when the sun was the highest in the sky, she heard the sound of strong hooves nearby. Her father had ordered her to lock the windows lest someone unsavory caught wind of their cargo. She had long accepted that she was one over the journey, it was much easier that way. She heard a couple of murmurs outside spotting a man in armour of the kingsguard near the gate before it was flung open in haste.

A middle aged man, dornish by the looks of it, opened the gate for her and offered her his hand.

“Apologies for the delay my lady” he spoke with an accent, a grim and unfaltering expression on his face

“It wasn't much trouble Ser” she responded putting her lessons to practice.

As she descended the steps of her busted enclosure her eyes caught sight of two new horses, black and white adorned with the drapes of the three headed dragon with her father busy in conversation with a taller head of silver nearby.

“Ah there she is, hurry up into our ride Melissa I'll be with you soon” he exclaimed.

Despite her father's instructions she found it hard to tear her gaze from the man ahead. He looked sharp and lean, standing with his hands clasped behind his back as he caught her gaze, his lone eye piercing into her own. She saw it leisurely take her in as her father rambled along oblivious to his surroundings before he looked behind her and gave a sharp nod.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen my lady, the second son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent Hightower, rider of Vhagar, the queen of dragons” the knight of the kingsguard boomed next to her.

Her father looked behind him sheepishly and she fought the urge to roll her eyes as she was formally introduced.

“Yes, and this is Lady Melissa Hightower my first born daughter and your cousin”

She saw the prince step forward at her introduction giving her a swift nod in acknowledgement as she remembered to curtsey in time.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance my prince” she spoke not taking her eyes off him. Up close she could see the eye patch obscuring a jagged scar running through his left eye and the chiseled planes of his face, quite unlike his brother, as he regarded her in silence.

“Well now that the children have been introduced let's move ahead shall we?” her father said merrily “Ser Criston, take me to the best inn in the city before we make our way back” he continued walking towards the horses.

“Father?”

“Worry not sweetling I'll join you in the keep. The prince shall be much finer company instead” he said, mounting the black horse in a hurry.

Her companion whipped around to object and she saw Ser Criston frown before making his way to his own horse with a sigh.

“Let the children get to know each other Cole, come on. Do you not have any fun in the city? Is Alicent keeping you locked up with herself these days?” he bellowed, galloping away.

She saw the prince frown, eye narrowing in distaste as she looked ahead mortified. It was perhaps best to be done for the day she thought, rushing to the carriage, away from the embarrassment before tripping on the steps herself.

“Careful” she heard a smooth voice next to her. She felt a hand steadying her back and another holding her by her arm preventing her fall as she made her way inside with help.

“There's another step to be taken when entering a royal carriage” he remarked as he followed her in.

“My apologies, your grace” she murmured, earning a hum in response.

The journey to the city passed in silence. She found herself wrinkling her nose as they entered, hit by the unfamiliar stench of sweat and something undeniably foul.

“How is my brother?” he inquired as they neared the gates of the keep.

“He's well your grace. You should be expecting a raven from him soon” she spoke and was met again with a solemn nod.

As they halted at the outer gates and were announced again she felt the familiar rush of nervousness run through her.

“Remember the step” he spoke before leaving and breaking her reverie. She found him at the base of the steps staring up at her with an intensity she tried to shrug off as she clasped his extended hand to descend.

“Thank you” she whispered before being faced with a sea of green, unable to focus on the change in surroundings so unlike home yet familiar all the same. A flutter of warmth crept into her as she stared ahead and thought “Did all Targaryens have hands that made one tingle?”

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @barbieaemond @succnfuccubus @watercolorskyy @paprikaquinn

#tbr #AHHHH #💓💓💓#I’ll crack this open soon!!!

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