#alicent pov

[alicenttully]

A Conversation Between the Princess and the Queen

“Your Grace”, Ser Criston Cole entered her chambers.   “Princess Rhaenyra is without and demands an audience.”  The knight’s handsome face was impassive.

Demands, does she? Alicent Hightower closed her eyes for a moment, before covering her half-finished letter.  She then nodded her consent, and her former friend stormed in.

Alicent made herself smile.  For a moment, she remembers with a pang how her smiles were once never forced in Rhaenyra’s company.  But she quickly buries it.  

“What brings you to my chambers, my-,”

“You, Alicent.”  Rhaenyra’s voice is terse, and Alicent raises an eyebrow at the dropped title, but it’s as not as though Rhaenyra is some pot girl.  They shared blood, and they once shared each other.  Rhaenyra does hold a right to use her name, even if the same cannot be said for other things her husband insisted on giving her.   “You trouble me.”

Alicent sighs.  “Is it me that troubles you, or your own conscience?”

Rhaenyra snorts.  “You would have made a wonderful septa.”

Yes, anything that would not threaten you.   Not that Alicent found the thought of being a Septa so terrible.  When she had been younger than the second eldest of Rhaenyra’s strong little boys, Alicent had once decided she could be one, perhaps even run her own Motherhouse one day.  However, that was before she began her life at court all years ago, and before Rhaenyra had entered it.

“That is kind of you to say so, stepdaughter,” Alicent smiled sweetly, although she knew of course that Rhaenyra was not trying to be any such thing.  “But the gods decided differently, and so I am your queen.”  Something that Rhaenyra has never fully forgiven her; she knows.

Just as Alicent will never fully forgive Rhaenyra for making her once love her.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed.  “Yes, a queen. Yet you sneer at the same chance being given to the blood we both share.  Something that she would not be considered for otherwise if she not so high-ranking, and trueborn.”

Yes, I can think of several who should not be promised certain things because of their birth.  Sometimes Rhaenyra’s hypocrisy astounds her.

“If you did not insist on hiding behind your outrage, you would understand my concerns.”

Rhaenyra gritted her teeth.  “Your concerns?”

“Yes,” Alicent replied, coldly. “I’ve found that things can change very quickly. And not always for the better.”

Alicent sees her darling Helaena wed and crowned, with Jacaerys beside her as the crowds cheered.  She sees Helaena’s beautiful face rotting, as her head rested on a pike; accused of and condemned for being a co-conspirator in treason with her bastard husband by disgruntled lords wishing to depose him, and who would have a very good reason for doing so.   She thinks of how Rhaenyra’s offer to promise her half-sister to her eldest son will not promise Alicent’s boys protection.

Aegon and Aemond would always be a challenge to Rhaenyra’s claim in a way that Helaena never would be.   The Targaryen’s own history served as precedent for that ugly truth.

Rhaenyra spoke of wanting to heal the rift.   Alicent wants the same.  But she wants Rhaenyra to simply confess, and to accept the consequences even if it costs her.  Yes, it would cost her sons as well, but they were innocent of their mother’s selfishness and so of course Alicent would never object to them being treated gently.

That is the peace she demands.  On her terms.  Not Rhaenyra’s or Viserys’.  

“I remember when things were better between us.”  

“Yes, I remember the time that I was your friend.  But I have been a mother longer.”  And it because that I know you are a mother also, that I cannot trust you.

Rhaenyra then leaves, and Alicent returns to her letter.  She has other ideas in mind for her daughter’s marriage.

[fuckalicent]

i know everyone is like no no alicent wasn’t jealous of rhaenyra she always had her best interests at heart etc etc but i want to propose: alicent was jealous of rhaenyra. maddeningly so. like imagine being married to your childhood best friend’s father who has a weird valyrian fetish and can’t seem to let go of his doomed homeland which isn’t even really his homeland and then you’re suddenly being put on a pedestal with all these expectations placed on you while (as far as you are aware) your friend seems to escape all the scrutiny and despite being afforded all these options and freedom that you had a hand in convincing be given to her, she still doesn’t seem to understand nor care. i would be green with envy and i think that is alright!!!! let her be jealous! because what else did u expect from the child bride who’s been fed alternating agendas from everyone around her since the moment of her marriage??!

[spinninwiththestars]

Saturday 20th March 🌨

...when I’m with Charlie I don’t want the day to end.

see Charlie’s POV of their snow day here!

[velvetjune]

In love with this article by Eric Van Allen interviewing Sam Lake and Poe, artist of “This Road” in Alan Wake 2, and finding out it was written with Alice’s perspective in mind

[spicycakes]

Played Crown of Ashes and Flames by @coeluvr and I've been loving it so I drew up some scenes from a small part of the game with my MC :)

[read from left -> right]

POV: You broke your promise (1/2)

[florisbaratheons]

One thing I am trying to work out in my upcoming Team Green au is Alicent's agency. I'm trying to do a mash up of the book and show where Alicent is trying to be supportive of Rhaenyra as the heir and trying to rise above it all, because in the world they live in, that is the only way she can live a somewhat peaceful life.

But then Aemond has his eye taken from him, and Viserys and Rhaenyra do nothing. That's her one strike. Her child got hurt, her child doesn't have an eye. It's obvious to her now that Otto was right in some way. Her kids aren't safe, not even Helaena. But as she watches Viserys stagger over to Rhaenyra and her kids, comforting them while her son is still bleeding, another realization sinks in.

She wants revenge. And if she has to usurp the throne to do it, she will.

[shootingthe-stars]

chapter 34 and the first of third year is out!!

this year is super packed i’m really excited to finally start getting this out omg (new pov next chapter too)

chapter 34 or from the beginning!

[dulcewrites]

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. After the pain, humiliation, and anger post Aemond’s losing his eye, Alicent had chucked softly to herself, in the privacy of her chambers. 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.

[hatterhare]

watched the cinematronics version and got inspired to redesign them

[clumsiestgiantess]

Cold weather prompt part 3! Since it’s angst day, I thought I might as well offer some angsty writing of my own @entomolog-t come and get it!

Stretching my arms high over my head, I wake up for the day and instinctively flinch, expecting my hands to whack painfully against the wooden wall behind my bed.  They don’t, and I let my arms fall back down confusedly.  A few seconds later, my foggy half-sleep disperses and I remember where I am.  There’s clamoring noise coming from the other room, probably the reason I woke up.  I didn’t want to leave the new bed I’d been gifted; even inside the air was cold, and the sun hadn’t even risen.  In this blanket, all of that disappears as if by magic.  It’s like no material I’ve ever felt.  This type of soft and insulated fabric is extremely difficult for a borrower to get — rarely ever discarded by humans for the taking.

How does it manage to stay so warm?  The echo of footsteps in the hallway sends my nerves readily spiked with adrenaline, and suddenly I’m out of bed.  Alice appears in the doorway, in a hurry once again.  “Oh!  Good morning!” she greets me, “You were sleeping so soundly I thought I might have to write you a note to tell you when I’d be back.”  Nodding with a tired yawn, I watch as she packs a drawstring bag with various utensils.  “Another one of those exams?” I ask her, concerned that her worried behavior hadn’t changed despite my return.

 “Yes,” Alice sighs, “I think I understand the material better, though.  After you fell asleep, I stopped complaining so loudly about things I didn’t understand because I didn’t want to wake you.  I guess I just needed to calm down and think things through a bit instead of just cramming everything at once.  Seems like a silly thing to learn now of all times, hmm?”  I’m not quite sure what sort of ‘cramming’ she was doing while I was asleep, but I nodded along politely.

“If I was a bother in any way sleeping here…”  “Nonsense!”  Alice waves a hand nonchalantly at me, “If anything, you being here calmed me down.”  There was a brief silence as Alice tugged her bag closed.  “Thank you.”  Her voice softened, stepping up to the desk where I stood.  “That must’ve been a hard decision for you to make.  Just know, I’m glad you did what you did.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m still stressed.  But I think I would be a lot more stressed without knowing you were alright.”

A warm feeling similar to pride swells in my chest.  It isn’t often that I’m assured I’ve done the right thing.  “When will you be back?” I ask, for once genuinely wanting her to be around.  Usually it’s the opposite; humans being out of the house is prime time for collecting harder-to-get materials.  “Just about three hours,” Alice replies.  That gives me time enough.  

I’ve been meaning to check the outdoor faucet and drain some of the water.  Sometimes, when no one’s been using it for a while, it stops running through the makeshift spigot I’ve set up in my home beneath the floor.  It stopped working a few days ago and I’ve been meaning to go run it.  These days it seems like I’m always running low on the precious liquid.

“Will you be alright here without me?  Do you need me to help you down?”  Glancing around for my bag — and inside it my climbing gear — I found it resting in a spot just to the left of my very cozy bed.  Nodding satisfactorily, I turned back to the human who’d gone to sling her bag over the side of her shoulder.  “I’ll be fine!” I assure her, “I am alone in your house often enough to know what I’m doing.”  “Right!” Alice gasps, “I forgot you’ve been living here…  Ok, s- see you when I get home?”  It was a question, not a statement — unsure whether I was willing to let a freak occurrence like this happen again.

“Yes, I’ll be around.  I always am.  Call for me, and this time I’ll actually listen.”  Alice’s smile brightens almost relievedly.  Saying another quick goodbye, she steps out of the room and down the hall.  I stand and listen until the sound of the door locking behind her reaches my ears.  Clapping my hands and rubbing them together readily, I scoop up my things.  “Alright, three hours.  Time to go pay a visit to the water pipes.

Stepping around my perfect bed, I snatch my bag off the ground and rummage through its contents.  I sigh in relief.  Everything is here.  Taking out my grapple and securely attaching it to the wooden ledge, I let the rope fall to the floor and lift myself onto it, slowly easing more and more of my weight on the cord to ensure it would hold me before scaling down.  “Now all I need are a few supplies and I’ll be on my way.”

Only after arriving safely home do I realize I forgot the thread I’d journeyed all the way to Alice’s room for.  Cursing my obvious mistake, I blame it on my disoriented awakening and began exchanging borrowing supplies for another set of equipment — boots that would cushion my fall to the ground outdoors, and a tough strip of fabric to help me grip and turn the spout’s handle that was meant for much stronger hands than my own.  “I’ll just have to go back for the thread later.  Alice will probably take me back to her room herself when she gets home.”

Alice.  How is it that a person can be so frightening yet so welcoming at the same time?  If you’d asked me a week ago what I thought I’d be doing in several days, you could’ve had me guessing for hours on end before I’d even think to answer: ‘Well, I think I’d be snuggling up in Alice’s hands and sleeping beside her on her desk, of course!’

Certainly not Alice.  I’ve had nightmares about her before.  During the summer, she’d kill every bug she stumbled upon without hesitation — some of them even spitefully.  While it’s true I’m no bug, her general ferocity towards small creatures living in her home was more than enough to put me on edge for a month or two.  Why was she so kind to me?  Alice knows I’m.. not human.  She knows that I’ve always been this small, that I’ve been living off the things she’s bought, in her apartment.  

An embarrassed red rushes to my cheeks, and I shake my head stubbornly.  That’s not even a thing for a borrower like me to be embarrassed of!  I’m proud I’ve managed to live with a human for so long without her even knowing I’m here!  Yet, the thought of Alice — the radiating warmth of her hands, the steady thrum of her pulse — is tantalizing to think about.  I don’t even realize that I’m standing in the middle of the hall in dazed silence until someone moves something on the floor above, startling me.  

Relax, Fen.  She’s just a.. strangely benevolent human.. who saved your life.  Ack!  Thinking about this sort of thing is bizarre; just focus on the task at hand.  Jogging the rest of the way there, I slip through a vent on the side of the building and into the chilling winter air outside.  Seconds later, I hit the ground with buckled knees to further cushion my landing.  If anything, this frigid weather should snap me out of my funk.  Expertly, I skirt around the side of the building along the decorative bushes and reach the edge of the side wall.  A water spout curves away from the concrete here.

Using the same grapple I’d slid down the desk with, I take a few good swings and attach it to the handle.  My weight isn’t enough to set the water off, so I clamber up.  All goes well as I use the strip of strong fabric I collected from my home to yank the faucet on, then let it run for a while.  I can feel it through the pipe — freezing enough to make my skin burn red in seconds by just touching it.  Thankfully, I don’t need much longer to get the water running through it smoothly again.  Any longer and I’d risk someone spotting me unawares.  Once, I’d nearly been grabbed by a child while doing this, but I’d jumped into a bush nearby and clung to a hidden branch until they’d gone.

With the coast remaining clear, I head back down.  Just as I unhook my grapple from the handle, the sound of large footsteps rumbles over the paved walkway to my right.  I dart beneath a bush and watch as two humans walk down the path towards the faucet.  Fortunately, I’m finished using it, and there isn’t a trace of me for them to spot.  “Watch out!” one human warns, “There’s some ice over-”  “WOAH!”  The other human yelps and slips over the frozen spot, reaching out and catching themself on the side of the building before they hit the ground.  I freeze where I am.  “You ok?”  “Yeah, I just slid a little.”  The humans walk carefully off, and I let out a relieved breath.  Neither of them had noticed me.

Trekking back over to the vent, I wind up and cast my hook at one of the metal slats.  The two pieces of metal collide and bounce off eachother, my grappling hook sliding uselessly down the closed grate.  Closed?  It’s.. It’s never closed!  I-It’s not supposed to be closed!  Oh no.  The human who’d slipped had fallen against the building here.  They’d hit the metal slits and accidentally whacked them shut.  Shit.  

The wind suddenly seems colder — the bushes sparser — as I make my way to the front doors.  It’s already a rather cloudy day, but I swear the clouds weren’t such an ugly shade of rippling grey when I first arrived.  Through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the building, I can see the lobby.  So close yet so far; I’ll never make it through such a big space without getting caught.  A shiver wracks my body as the wind picks up.  I’m not supposed to be out here this long, not without the new clothing I need to stitch for myself.  Even though the weather’s a bit warmer than the freezing temperatures I was caught in before, it’s by no means warm.

Desperate for at least some heat, I slip behind a discarded cup near the entrance, my skin numbing then prickling with warmth every time the doors open.  For just a few moments, I get relief before I’m shut out again.  WHAK  I cover my mouth to keep from yelping as something hits the ground right behind me.  Whirling around in utter terror, I fear the worst: a human found me.  A relieved chuckle bubbles out of my throat as I realize it’s just a splash of water.. from.. above me.

No no no.  No, please it can’t be.  Two more drops of water hit the pavement around me.  “AHHH!” I cry out as a freezing raindrop hits me square in the back.  My vision blurs briefly, my head pounding with fear.  Terrified, I glance around the walkway.  No one was around to hear me, but that wasn’t nearly as frightening as what I did see — one of the most dreaded things a person like me can encounter while venturing outside.  

There’s an ominous crackling onslaught of noise before I can even spot the wall of water racing across the parking lot faster than any human can travel.  It’s the kind of situation where all you can do is stand in one spot, utterly helpless to stop whatever awful thing is coming for you.  Terror is coming from so far away, but there isn’t a single thing you can do to stop it.  Instead, you stand back and watch.

Water pounds over me, stinging my skin with freezing projectiles.  I’m on the ground in an instant.  My own lungs choke my throat of air, convinced I’m drowning when I’m not.  I take a few gasping breaths to try and assuage it; my face nearly presses against the pavement to do so.  “Please,” I whine, unsure whether it’s the rain or my tears rolling down my cheeks.  If I could just get to cover.

Weakly, I struggle to haul myself towards the foliage I’d left behind.  I flinch and falter with every new pelting droplet of water that tears into my numb flesh.  Panic grips my chest when I pull my hands back to my head, only to find them bloodied and shredded after trying to drag myself across the rugged cement.  I can’t move; I can’t breathe.  I’m dying.  I’M DYING.  “HELP!  Someone please!”  The last word I speak comes out in a nasty rasping groan as I’m hit again.  

Thunder rumbles rhythmically around me.  I doubt anyone could even hear-  “Fen?  Fen!”  Holding a numb hand up against my brows, I barely manage to recognize the looming form of a human kneeling beside me.  Seconds later, the drilling raindrops cease.  Everything’s blissfully quiet and numb.  I lay there and pant.  “Fen, what are you doing out here?!  I told you I’d be back!  Why on Earth would you-?  Oh please be alright!”  

Slim fingers slip delicately beneath me and I wheeze a pained gasp.  It hurts everywhere.  Every breath shakes in my throat with a keening whine.  Soon, I'm hoisted cautiously into the air, covered by a second hand to block the horrifying bombardment outside.  I bask in the freedom to breathe properly, though my relief is largely shadowed by pain.  When at last I’m deposited onto a tabletop, Alice tries to rub me dry with a hand towel.  “AHHGGGGHH!”  She flinches harshly away from me.  “E-Everything burns,” I gasp.  “The.. rain…”  

I peel off my shirt in a hurry.  Large red welts bloom along my skin where I was hit with the freezing water.  Alice gasps, and I tilt my head up slightly to look at her.  Her hands are clasped over her open mouth as she stares at me with a horrified expression.  “Fen..” she whispers, voice laced with tears.  Tears begin to sting my eyes as well, but with pain rather than pity.  The human rushes away while I sit there and shake.  I don’t want to, but I tear off my pants, too.  Their course material stings awfully.  When Alice returns, she hesitates very slightly at my appearance, but quickly moves closer with a tube of some strange ointment in hand, and my blanket in the other.

“N-No!”  I struggle away as she reaches to place it over me.  “It’s ok, it’s ok, see?  The blanket’s a lot softer.”  The fabric falls over me and I cinch up, only to drag it closely around myself not a moment later.  She’s right.  It hurts, but not nearly as badly.  A few minutes of shaking later, and I begin warming up again.  “Oh Fen, will you be alright?  Why were you out there in the rain?  If I was running late.. or if I hadn’t heard you.. you..”  Tears start rolling down her face.  “I- I’m ok.”  My voice is still raspy, but at least I’m warm enough to speak.  

Alice wipes her tears away with a few swipes of her wrist.  “H-Here, I brought you some medicine.  Once you warm up a bit more, you can put it on.”  We waited as I told her what had happened.  However, the more I heated up, the more feeling returned tomy body, and the more painful things became.  After so long, I couldn’t keep talking, and instead lay down sprawled out over the soft material, breathing shallowly.  “You poor thing.”  Without the blanket wrapped around me, she could finally see just how harshly the weather had treated me.

With gentle caution, Alice lifts one of my arms carefully onto the pads of her fingers.  I inhale sharply, but she quiets me.  “It’s alright; let me put this on you and I promise you’ll feel better, ok?  This’ll heal up your skin in no time, I promise.”  I nod and let myself go limp.  Alice takes the ointment to my skin, rubbing it gently over all the reddened patches across my arms and chest.  They sting briefly, but fade away soon after.  My eyes are closed when she gasps and they flicker fearfully open.  “What happened to your hands?”  

“I tried to get myself beneath the bushes.. couldn’t make it.”  Alice gives me a pitying look.  She takes extra caution with them, dunking them in semi-warm water to get the dried blood off.  They start bleeding again, and she shakily wraps them up in little strips of larger bandages.  I try to do it myself so she doesn’t have to struggle with their tiny scale, but the bleeding only worsens, so I have to stop.

Eventually, once the front of me is cared for, Alice reaches for my sides.  “I’m going to have to lift you up to get to your back.  Will that be too painful for you, or should I do it?”  Her fingers hesitate less than an inch from my torso.  “Do it.  I can take it.  I’ll be alright.”  My voice has grown a bit stronger.  The pain is more intense than I thought, and I take in a sharp breath, but ask her to continue.  This awful pain is all the more reason for me to get it taken care of now rather than later.

I can’t sleep, but neither can Alice.  She sits beside me the whole time, occasionally getting me water, snacks, or just conversation throughout the night.  A few minutes past midnight, I gasp.  “Wait, your exams!  Don’t you need to study!?  I’ll be fine; you have to-”. “It’s alright, Fen.  I don’t have anything tomorrow.  Well, today now,” she amends, nodding at the microwave clock.  I relax with a sigh.

“That’s rather sweet of you, though.  You seem awfully worried about me for someone who didn’t believe I’d be kind enough to help them just a few days ago…  Sorry,” she adds after a brief silence.  “I don’t mean to sound rude.  It’s just.. nice of you.  I was thinking about it earlier, actually.  If I were in your shoes — if I were scooped up by some massive being — I probably would’ve run away too, even if they did claim they wanted to help me.”  I sit up curiously, flinching slightly at the pain in my back.  “I- I still can’t imagine what life must be like for you.  I mean, I’m sure it’s fun getting to run around secret places all day just living life to the edge instead of worrying about school and working jobs like me.  But it must be scary, too.  This is twice now in the last three days I’ve saved your life.”

I huff, slightly upset.  “I’m not usually in that much danger.”  Alice shifts closer to me and I glance up at her with a bowed head.  “Alright,” she says simply.  Gently, her chin falls onto her arms — crossed on the counter beside me.  She doesn’t say anything else, but her eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes crinkling worriedly at the edges.  I’ve never been so close to a human to notice all these small details before.  My arm must’ve drifted between my lap and the air several indecisive times before I finally let myself reach for her.  

All those little details shift and soften into a look of surprise muted by a soft relief.  Her hand reaches for me, engulfing my entire forearm before sliding my palm gently onto the pad of her thumb, holding it with the side of her pointer finger pressed on top of it.  Releasing my bandaged hand, her fingers drift upwards towards me.  My heartbeat quickens, but I make no move to get away.  A single gentle finger glides across my head, tucking some of my mussed hair back behind my ear and away from my eyes.  Alice’s hand drifts back down and rests beside me, though her gaze never leaves mine.

“Now that you know I won’t hurt you,” the human begins quietly, “will you stay here?  More.. out in the open?  Where I can talk to you or.. hang out.. sometime?”  Her cheeks redden slightly, and our gazes finally break as hers darts away from mine.  “It’s ok if you don’t want to, you- you probably have a whole house somewhere around here that I’ll probably never see-”  Quickly, I put a hand over hers beside me to stop her from babbling any further.  “Alice, I still live here; I won’t be far.  True, I don’t exactly have to sneak around the place to avoid you anymore, though.  I’ll probably be walking through here all the time.  We can stop to talk.. or hang out.. whenever you want.”

Alice gives me a grateful look.  “I’d like that.  It- It gets lonely sometimes,” she explains, again glancing embarrassedly away from me.  I can’t help but smile.  How could I have been afraid of a human so docile as her?   

Less than an hour later, Alice is asleep.  Her tired face rests smushed against the counter, breaths evenly and slowly rushing through the otherwise silent room.  Something about the moment makes me smile despite the constant throbbing ache of my raw skin.  She’s certainly nothing like how I thought she would be, but at the same time, everything I’d want her to be.  “Please stay like this,” I whisper to no one but myself.  “I know your kind is still awful.  Don’t let them change you.”

[jaegonsmoon]

Jacaerys began to suspect that the two years old Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are his children after servants started whispering that Jaehaerys looks a just like him as a toddler, and pointing out the locks of dark hair that Jaehaera has. But he doesn't understand how the children can be his, he never slept with Helaena. But sudlently everything gets weirder when he remembers sharing a bed with his uncle after getting drunk three years ago.

Alicent sometimes spent hours watching her grandchildren closely. Every little change they had each week, and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach with each noticeable one.

She remembers the relief she’d felt when the twins had been born and a mop of soft silver curls adorned their little heads. The Gods had been merciful.

But they were toddlers now and Jaehaera, her precious granddaughter, with beautiful violet eyes, fair skin and soft silver curls. A carbon copy of her aunt, yet not the one she called daughter. She looked so much like Rhaenyra when they were kids, it was a bit difficult to watch sometimes. But it had gotten worse. It started with a single strand of hair when the girl was but a few months old. Now at almost two years of age, Jaehaera’s hair was an ombré colour, dark brown slowly eating the silver away.

Alicent knew her first son had been different since the moment he was born. He had inherited all the qualities of those sinful ancestors of theirs. In the ways of Old Valyria, where males were sometimes born with both sexes, able to bear children and continue the (im)purity of their bloodlines by all means. The Targaryens and Velaryons had such cases in their intertwined, inbred, bloodlines, though it had become a rarity as the decades passed.

Alicent had been cursed with a firstborn with such traits. And it didn’t help that Aegon grew to be the way he was. Such an ungrateful libertine, whoring himself out at every opportunity he got.

So when her son’s belly started to swell a few years back, Alicent wasn’t surprised when it didn’t turn out to be parasites. She had been mad, furious. Aegon took the situation like Aegon takes everything else; a joke. Viserys had been fascinated, because of course he had, that his son could carry children of his own. He didn’t seem to care about the babe’s paternity, again—of course he hadn’t, he was used to it after his whore of a daughter had brought three bastards into this world already.

Viserys might had not cared, but Alicent did. Dignity and honour would prevail as long as she walked those cursed halls. So she wed Aegon to Helaena and tagged the pregnancy on her daughter, making up the story that she was having a difficult pregnancy and had been bedridden, and that Aegon worried for his sister-wife wouldn’t leave her side. It had worked well. Until the children turned two and the curse of their true identity was leaking through.

And Alicent knew. She had known for a long time. Aegon had been awfully quiet about who had knocked him up. Nothing made him break, and that could only mean one thing.

A mother always knows.

Her son had bore Rhaenyra’s bastard two more.

[riddles-n-games]

Hello wonderful people. Today is a new day, we get our third POV and we'll already have half of the six cards revealed. Based on where we're going in the unexpected direction, I can assume that maybe Slate could be a POV or at least a major character. Phone Girl is still high up in the cards for me as a POV unless JLB wants to shroud her in mystery for a while before revealing her. But I also can't just leave out Savannah even though she's most certainly not going to be a POV because we already have her twin.

Now, the only thing is that even though this is a spin-off, you can't tell me that JLB has written off our ogs majorly already. First, because Gray is still involved at large in the game and his sister could be in trouble again. Secondly, with the Alice Hawthorne reveal at the end of TBH and that being a direct tie to the Hawthorne brothers, that means we still have another unfinished Hawthorne storyline. This could once again bring one of them to the forefront, maybe Nash or Xander since a lot of people have been wanting to see them in action after being disappointed by TBH. The only problem is that I could see this backfiring on JLB because now she's involving more character POVs. With so many plots going this way and that, I can't help asking how she's going to do that and resolve it in three books. One thing was Avery's story which was much more straightforward and it always kept coming back to the Hawthornes one way or another but here, we have so many unfamiliar characters with backstories we don't know yet such as Rohan and Slate.

PS. Yes, I just found out it's Phone Girl that's the last POV. Love that. At least we have two for the win but Rohan still kind of feels out of place. Also, damn gurl! Those thighs mean business.

[dragonymango]

anyways

[rewritingcanon]

scorbus is so cavetown coded and jalice is so tv girl coded and tedoire is so cigarettes after sex coded and lilysander is so hozier coded and yolly is so paramore coded and rosphia is so hayley kiyoko coded thanks for coming to my ted talk

[homielander]

“i can’t believe alicent got all catty just because rhaenyra had sex with someone else” please rewatch the first five episodes i’m begging you

for one, there’s the obvious fact that she vouched for rhaenyra to the king, and it resulted in her father losing his position in court and being dismissed in disgrace. with that dismissal, the last bit of alicent’s sad excuse for a support system was dismantled. otto may not be anywhere close to a good father but he’s been alicent’s only family for years. and we’ve already seen that alicent feels lonely — she confesses as much. she’s a young non-valyrian queen who self-admittedly has no friends in court. aemma at least had the advantage of enjoying a natural closeness with her husband and not being so visually distinct from the rest of the targaryen house.

this loneliness is why warnings of a looming inheritance crisis resonate so soundly with her. she has no allies, and rhaenyra, the only person she truly trusted and went out of her way to protect time and time again, had no trouble lying to her face on her dead mother’s memory. viserys may genuinely want to keep their children safe (though it’s worth noting he hasn’t been seen interacting with any of them on screen even once, and between his kingly duties and decaying health it is likely that he is not an active father, thus further proving to alicent that they are not held in the same regard as rhaenyra) but it is his death that will create the power vacuum, so if they are endangered he has no way to stop it. and despite daemon generally being a loose canon, neither viserys nor rhaenyra really do anything to rein him in — daemon literally waltzes in to the future queen’s wedding feast and nothing is done. in alicent’s view, the only person who has her best interests at heart is her father — a politically astute man who seems genuinely convinced that there is a war coming. so her paranoia is understandably worsening by the day.

another problem is that, while alicent probably can’t quite put her finger on the nature of her feelings for rhaenyra, she obviously loves her very deeply. this love is what causes dutiful, obedient alicent to defy her father and convince viserys not to name their son as his heir. this love is what makes her vehemently deny her father’s claims about rhaenyra’s virtue to the king without heeding the potential consequences. when viserys announces that he will marry alicent, it is not herself she worries for, but rhaenyra to whom she immediately looks. it’s also possible that some of the visceral outrage she feels upon hearing the news of rhaenyra’s transgressions is jealousy. so the betrayal is enhanced a hundredfold because rhaenyra lied and because it is rhaenyra.

and some of her reaction can obviously be attributed to the patriarchal standards of westerosi society. alicent is deeply religious in a way few asoiaf characters have been shown to be — she routinely prays in order to feel closer to her mother — and has clearly internalized the tenets of the faith as well as its inane standards for women (namely that premarital sex is forbidden). she’s also been raised to be a perfect southern lady-in-waiting, which only strengthens this attitude. so a good part of her is actually scandalized by rhaenyra “sullying her virtue” — especially when the crown has been working tirelessly to make one arrangement after another to secure rhaenyra a suitable match of her own choosing (that kind of freedom is unheard of at this point).

but, horrified as she may be, alicent is also envious that rhaenyra has these avenues available to her in the first place. she says to ser criston that she can understand how a young woman could get lost in the heat of the moment in such circumstances, but alicent fundamentally cannot understand. she and rhaenyra started off in similar positions, giggling and blushing over handsome knights at tourneys, but rhaenyra gets to live out her girlhood fantasies while alicent is married off to a man old enough to be her father, who calls her to his chambers in the middle of the night while his flesh is literally rotting away. in alicent’s eyes, it must seem that rhaenyra has the option to choose her own husband, her own destiny, and yet she continues to discard her good fortune while still flaunting her acts of rebellion (which are enabled by the king and ultimately cause no harm to her reputation).

the point is that there is a host of factors contributing to alicent’s turning point in 1.05. how anyone can see all this play out and still reduce alicent’s motives to “pettiness” is beyond me.