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dulcewrites · 1 year

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Seek and Destroy

Summary: Alicent swears she is not naturally a cruel person. Any semblances of cunning or coldness has been taught, slowly and surely. A gift bestowed to her from the age of ten and five. Something she was weened onto like a babe that suckles for milk from its mother. She has learned at the feet at the best - or maybe the worst. King’s Landing has fallen to Rhaenyra. Her children are scattered around the realm. Lives have been lost already. Alicent’s heart has finally callused. Nothing left but a shell and the venom that seeps out of it.

A/N: This is just something I have been working on. It is not finished obvi. I don’t know if I will expand on it. If I do I will probably post it to ao3

Her father’s blood had splattered into her mouth when she cried out. At first, Alicent did not want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her body shake in worry. Bones rattling together under neath sheathed of silk. Green silks. Or let them take glee in seeing fear in her eyes. She wanted to stand tall as the execution begun. Her father being first to go was for a reason.

Even in his doom, Otto Hightower managed to make his presence looming.

Alicent wanted not to shed a single tear. But then she felt ten and eight again. Just a girl with two children, and burden pressed firmly on her chest to the point where it was hard to breathe. He was unruly and fickle but without him, she would be alone… again.

Her brain settled between ‘This is all his fault. His debt comes due, as it should’ and ‘Daddy, please look me. Tell me you love me, that I made you proud despite of how it ends for us’.

But all her father told her was to look away. As if to shield her from a terror that had already came. A terror he brought. The horror was on their doorstep now. She was rutted in each night against her wishes; she bore four children - ones she could not save. They bore her grandchildren that she loved in a way she was not able to love her own children. Maybe if she could not help her own, she could do better with the littlest ones.

Jaehaerys. Oh, my poor Jaehaerys.

Everyone is gone. If not in person, in spirit.

Gwayne is gone. Her brother dragged into this mess. When he had arrived in King’s Landing, she has almost missed him amongst the other Oldtown knights. Her heart had sunk lower that she thought it could at the thought of not even recognizing her own kin. His face was one that was no longer burned in her brain.

Helaena’s mind and heart has been rotted from the inside out. On a good day, Alicent can force her to eat and drink. She bathes her daughter as if she still a babe. There is no light in Helaena’s eyes.

Alicent’s mouth feels as if a pile of sand has been dumped in her mouth if she thinks too long about how cold she was when Aemond left for the Riverlands. He gave her a kiss a cheek and muttered a pitiful sorry.

It was all he had said since coming back from Storm’s End. Different variations of the same thing. He never begged for forgiveness from the Gods but from her.

Sorry, mother. I’m so sorry mother.

If she could crush skulls with her bare hands, Alicent would. Not off strength, she’s always been a slip of a woman. But off the hatred that seemed into her bones.

She was prepared to die. She thinks she has been from the moment Viserys said he would marry her. From the moment the maester congratulated her on being pregnant with Aegon. Death had been a thing she even welcomed at times. When the lonliness felt too deep, when she could not stomach being called to Viserys chambers at night, when she had to look at her children for too long. She eyed Criston’s sword one too many times to admit. So, when Daemon leers over her with that cruel, ugly smile of his, she straightens her back and sniffs away her tears. He, of course, got the honors to kill her father; a task Alicent is sure he has wanted to do for decades.

It was Daemon who pushed her hair to the side with such gentleness it made her a bit sick. The coolness of Dark Sister pressed softly against her neck.

Alicent says a quick prayer to the Mother for her children. She knows it is to no veil; they were doomed the moment they came out of her. Mayhaps, this is her punishment for bearing them.

She does not sob over herself. Her lot in life has been well accepted. But Alicent wants to claw at her own face, peel back her own flesh so she is frayed out, when she thinks of her kids.

Let the Mother keep them safe as they do what is only imaginable in their wildest nightmares. May the horrors committed not leave them too soiled.

“Wait,” Rhaenyra’s voice calls out in the Grand Hall. It echoes so loud that Alicent flinches, the blade swiping gently against her neck. She still shivers from head to toe.

Daemon huffs, before removing the blade cautiously.

Alicent peers up at the stairs that lead to the Iron Throne. Rhaenyra gestures softly to her husband to come up the stairs. Daemon does not fully sheathe Dark Sister but complies anyway. A piece of Alicent’s hair obstructs her view, but through it, her eyes stay trained on Rhaenyra. Or whoever the person wearing the crown is.

The woman looks like the Rhaenyra. The same long silvery blonde hair styled elaborately on top of her head with the rest hanging in a braid. Her long riding dress is a deep black with red stitching and a red dragon collar. Red and purple dragons snaking their way up her sleeves. The woman has Rhaenyra’s eyes and nose, but Alicent has never felt more confused about who stands at the feet of the Iron Throne. The woman’s mouth pinches the way a young Rhaenyra’s would when she was distressed.

Rhaenyra’s look makes Alicent think of the stories of warrior queen Visenya. Rhaenyra would often laud the might and cunning of her ancestor during their girlhood. After the pain, humiliation, and anger post Aemond losing his eye, Alicent had chucked softly to herself at the thought her son riding the Conqueror Queen’s beloved dragon. Because of course it would be one of her kids to claim the old bitch.

But despite the styling callback, a warrior Rhaenyra is not.

And based on the look of disgust settling on Daemon’s face, he thinks the same of his wife.

He will never see you as an equal, she wants to call out. It does not matter how many crowns you put on your head, how many dragons you claim - you always just be his little niece… a silly woman. The means to his end.

Their conversation reaches a cacophony and Alicent desperately wants to know what it being said. Is Rhaenyra asking him to make it as gruesome as possible? Maybe they will drag her body out in front of the castle for all the small folk to see. A warning for what can happen if they defy their queen. Alicent already knows the heads of those that helped Aegon and his kids escape will be next once they catch them.

Rhaenyra reaches out to grab Daemon’s arm, but he is already down the stairs muttering expletives out his mouth. Alicent hears the word whore, and scoffs internally. She fights back a sad smile that almost forces itself on her face. Not the first time she has heard that, and surely will not be the last. Poor Daemon has never been clever with his insults. They are as simple as he is. She is the nasty deceitful, whore that seduced Viserys and ruined everything. Used her wily, womanly magic, her cunt, to lure the King of the Fucking Seven Kingdoms into submission. She always noticed how Daemon always acted like she stole Viserys from him.

The same way the maidens whose virtue Daemon stole must be whores too. The same way Queen Aemma must have been inadequate since she did not give Viserys what he wanted. Something must have been wrong with Rhea and Laena too. Maybe even Daemon’s own daughters are not enough. Surely, something is wrong with Rhaenyra. Something that makes Daemon’s stomach curdle. Such is the way with men like him.

Viserys will be remembered as a peaceful king, and a gentle man. A king who was so averse to conflict that he raped Alicent for children he then neglected once they came. He was so kind he made sure his first wife died in a pool of blood with nothing but screams of agony and pleas of mercy dying in her lips.

She wonders if Rhaenyra knows that charming story. Would she still have felt safe under the patronage of Viserys if she knew such? Imagine the horror that Alicent felt when she overheard maesters whispering of such when she was pregnant with Aegon.

Alicent is sure Daemon will die being known as a ‘true’ and ‘honest’ warrior. Apparently, there are those that think there is some sort of honor in being upfront about ones rotting heart. As if his cavalier attitude negates the atrocities on his hands. The world has taught Alicent that type of ruthlessness is only tolerated at the hands of a man.

And Alicent, in all her attempts to do right, to keep her head above water, to appease and break herself down into a small enough package that all can accept her, will be known as a whore. A seducer, a scheming bitch that stole the agency of a grown man. She will die being blamed and accused.

It only seemed right she supposed.

Viserys the Peaceful. Daemon the Honest. Alicent… the Whore.

Her confusion mounts when Daemon does not come back to her to finish the job. Instead, he continues walking, right past and leaving the hall in a fit of anger and rage. Alicent knees have begun to ache from being crouched. Rhaenyra clears her throat, and Alicent eyes slowly go back to her. Dark bags rimmed Rhaenyra’s eyes, only drawing more attention to the extremely dark limbal ring that surrounded deep amethyst. When Alicent heard about Lucerys’ death, it had shaken her to her core. Frankly more for Aemond’s sake than for Rhaenyra’s or the boy’s. The thought of peace still naively in her mind. Alicent always seemed to the last one to arrive at the right conclusions. A fatal flaw of hers unfortunately.

You were already ill-fated, you foolish boy! Why make yourself accursed as well!

But when Alicent heard of Jacaerys’ death, she knew what was to come. There are few things a parent loves more than their first born.

…. Alicent had never known what the smell of burning flesh was like till Aegon.

“I have decided to spare your life,” the few people that stood in the hall, her council, begin to whisper to each other. Rhaenyra shifts uncomfortably at the eyes on her. “For the sake of my father, who loved you once.”

Alicent blinks once, then twice, then three times. She is almost a bit disappointed. Rhaenyra has taken so much and now she has taken death off the table too.

And is that what they are calling what Viserys did to her? Love? Rhaenyra could not possibly believe that. Not now after everything. After the way Rhaenyra would so seamlessly twist the knife when she had the chance, when she was backed in a corner. Rhaenyra knew there was no love there. Not for Alicent and definitely not for her children.

The words crawl up her throat before she can stop them. She must know. “And what of my girl? What of Queen Helaena?”

The queen part slips out truly on accident, a panicked slip of the tongue, but Rhaenyra’s mouth curls a bit in a sneer.

If her Helaena is to die at the hands of one of Rhaenyra’s butchers, to meet the same evil fate Jaehaerys did, then Alicent might beg for the sword. Or a rope and one of the high ceilings of the Red Keep.

Something cold and numb flashes behind Rhaenyra’s already hallow eyes. As if she is just now remembering that she had a sister that still occupied the castle.

“The princess will be spared as well.”

Rhaenyra waves a ringed hand at the guard to have Alicent taken away. Before she can even register was has happened, she is dragged away by the arms.

“Let her be bound in a manner fitting of her new station,” Rhaenyra sits in the Irone Throne elegantly as Alicent goes.

Alicent’s frantic eyes look at her father’s limp body one last time. His blood spilled on the ground. His head separated from the rest of him. It is the first and only time Alicent has ever seen her father so… small.

If Otto was alive now, and they were alone, he would tell her that he was right. He said as much after Jaehaerys was killed. Right before Aegon snatched the hand pin off his grandsire’s jacket and screamed at him that all that cunning had gone to waste by Otto being a ‘bastard that was too thick in the head for his own good’. Otto would say they should have had mercenaries go to Dragonstone and do the deed while they had the chance. He would still be alive. As would Gwayne and Jaehaerys. Helaena would not be in a fugue state beyond repair. Alicent’s boys would be home, and well. Daeron could have come back to King’s Landing for a coronation that was not rushed nor interrupted. Aemond would not have blood on his ledger.

Aegon would be king with no one in his path.

You know it. You're no fool and yet you choose not to see it. The time is coming, Alicent. Either you prepare Aegon to rule, or you cleave to Rhaenyra and pray for her mercy.

She stumbles all the way back to the Holdfast with thoughts swirling in her head.

Alicent did not prepare Aegon, the way she should have. But she was not prepared for such things; so how did anyone expect her to know better. How can a child help a child. How does the blind lead the blind. She may not have done what she needed for Aegon, not in that moment. But she refuses to cleave now. Mercy is not a luxury she has been granted for some time.

Have you ever imagined yourself on the Iron Throne?

No, of course not. Alicent can be naive, but never stupid. Never foolish or too hot on herself. Her veins have turned ice cold. She does not have her children the way she would want to. Alicent has never had a dragon to threaten others with. The army at her disposal is elsewhere fighting a futile battle. Not even Criston is here.

She just has herself, and right now that has to be enough. It must be enough.

#im very interesting in her queen in chains era #I don’t even know the ending part of this #it would be mixing book lore and hotd tho #there might be rhaenicent… maybe idk #but it will maybe be from Alicent and Helaena’s pov #pro alicent hightower #alicent hightower #alicent hightower fanfic #alicent hightower imagine #pro team green #hotd imagine #queen alicent #I am writing a different Alicent thing but that one is almost done I think #Alicent imagine

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