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universe-of-heart · 6 months

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Growth of New Beginnings

A Rewritten History of Fire and Blood

Ocs in fic

Author's note: Honestly, not my favorite chapter but has my favorite moment. I found info on deleted scenes so I threw them in there :). I am not paying therapy bills btw. Moon phase border by @samspenandsword, MDNI banner by @cafekitsune

Word count: 5548

Warnings: Sad, angst, age gap marriage, some birth stuff but not much, vague suggestions to sex in a loveless marriage, very very VERY minor fighting at the end. I'm making characters who didn't talk about their feelings in the show actually talk and be friends still

Daemon didn’t return from Dragonstone. Official news reached the Red Keep days after Corlys had stormed out of the Small Council chambers that they both had begun an engagement with the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy themselves, along with his brother, Vaemond, and his son, Laenor. Unofficially, dragon keepers had let the Crown know earlier that Caraxes had taken flight from Dragonstone with his rider on his back. Guards still remained there, guarding his paramour whom he had seemingly left there as if she was already royalty, fit to rule what no longer belonged to him to claim.

Once again, he went unpunished; the Crown had more to worry about within its own walls.

Rhaenyra had fled to the Dragonpit immediately after the marriage was announced. Syrax felt like the only one the princess could trust anymore, hating the overwhelming feeling of betrayal that seemed to follow her no matter where she went in the Red Keep. Jae volunteered visiting Driftmark for a time; it would be a change of scenery for the girl that she could use to spend time with Laena and not worry about the responsibilities of the Crown. And that seemed to help, for a time. Laena and Princess Rhaenys suffered grief in the absence of a father and husband, a brother and son, and the young Velaryon became attached to the princess at the hip. The two made promises to exchange letters and visit each other often as the length of Rhaenyra’s visit grew longer and longer and the looming expectation to return to the Red Keep grew ever bigger.

Alicent stood outside the Dragonpit after the extended journey had taken nearly a month. Rhaenyra hadn’t even wanted to return home, but a raven requesting her return to assist in Small Council meetings had been sent a week before she returned. To wait any longer risked turning those who swore their loyalty to her against her, proving to the men of court that maybe she was simply an emotional girl who wasn’t fit to be the future queen. Rhaenys had advised her to return along with the raven. If anyone knew the cruelty of court, it would be the Queen Who Never Was.

The great yellow dragon bowed her head to her rider, churring deep in her chest before the keepers led her back into the pit. Rhaenyra wondered if she could follow them and stay there instead of the Keep before she turned and saw her friend waiting in front of the royal wheelhouse. It felt like no time had passed between that moment and the day she’d gone to see her mother with Alicent, smelling of dragon and completely oblivious to what would happen days later. What she would lose.

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent said softly, barely trusting her voice to carry across the courtyard.

The princess wanted to cry.

“I don’t understand it.”

Alicent looked down at her hands, picking at the side of her thumb.

If she was honest, she didn’t understand either. She didn’t understand how her father could manipulate her to win the king’s affection, despite never trying like other ladies would have. She didn’t understand why Viserys had wanted so desperately to keep their talks private. She didn’t understand why he had chosen her, in front of the entire Small Council, and why he had driven a wedge between her and Rhaenyra in the process.

Rhaenyra’s chin jutted slightly, a quirk she always did when she tried to keep from crying. She hated it. She hated the entire Small Council, she hated her uncle, she hated his mistress, she hated her father, she hated her dead baby brother. If he had lived, none of this would be happening. The weight of the kingdom wouldn’t be upon her. Her father wouldn’t have been pressured so much to remarry if he had had a prince. A son.

Something she could never be.

“Rhaenyra, please-”

“Why?”

If she knew why, perhaps Alicent wouldn’t have felt so awful.

It was a betrayal she felt she’d been forced into. The entire month Rhaenyra had been gone, she had sat and wondered about what had happened and her role within it. Alicent had begun to wonder why her father would put her in such a position, why the king would allow such obvious overstepping from his Hand. It was obvious more then than ever what Otto had begun to plant the seeds for, what he had no doubt been wishing to do for ages. Perhaps it had not always been as cruelly thought out, perhaps he had wished her to be older or wiser or more willing to put herself between the king’s grief and himself. Perhaps he did not see it as twisted as others did, did not see it as a power grab. Alicent hadn’t, at first. She had found it odd, even upsetting, to visit the king so privately after the loss of his wife, but she hadn’t seen the darker intent of her father before it was too late.

Before the king became infatuated with her. Her, his daughter’s closest friend, his Hand’s daughter, a girl who had barely considered happiness after the death of her own mother.

When the silence stretched on, Rhaenyra grew angry, frustrated even. They had been inseparable for years, they laughed together, cried together, mourned their mothers together and now her closest companion had all but become a stranger to her. Just another lady of the court who wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t speak to her in fear of crossing her.

“Say something!” She wasn’t sure if it was a plea or an order.

“I never intended for this,” Alicent barely whispered, voice shaking as the words stuck thick in her throat. “I didn’t know, Rhaenyra, you must believe me.”

Perhaps, once she would’ve. She wasn’t sure what she believed anymore.

“Then, what did you intend? You accompany me, you mourn with me, and yet my father chooses you as his second wife! What reason would he have to do such a thing?”

Alicent shook her head slightly, hands trembling. “I never…I never intended…”

Rhaenyra released a shaky, wavering breath as she blinked back the tears threatening the waterline of her eyes. “I will only ask you one thing and you must answer honestly. If our years as friends have meant anything to you, you will answer me honestly.”

She was almost too eager to nod, her chin wobbling behind the weight of her emotions.

“Did you seek out my father’s affection on your own?”

Alicent looked exactly as she did the day she shared with the princess that her mother died. Small, fragile, and withering away before her very eyes. She looked as though a breeze could blow past her and she would crumble to dust. She looked like a child.

“No.”

The moment Rhaenyra’s arms wrapped around her, Alicent wept.

The weeks leading up to the wedding had been a special kind of hell. Alicent had still refused to share anything beyond what had already been said, an act that neither knew if it was loyalty or fear. All the same, the princess was at her side through all the planning, all the primping and pampering, and for every night following such matters that was spent crying over a childhood ended. When Rhaenyra stood behind her father that fateful day, she just remembered being furious. There seemed to be no guilt or shame from Viserys and there was a certain smugness that radiated from Otto that he didn’t even bother hiding. It was then that Rhaenyra pieced it all together. Resentment grew quickly in her heart as her glare leveled with the Hand of the King across the room.

Standing with the rest of the lords and ladies, Jae was doing the same.

They’d spent the time while Rhaenyra was away begging the king to reconsider. Telling him how this betrothal, this plot, was bound to doom he and his daughter to eternal mistrust. Alicent was her closest companion, her only confidant, and he would take her from the princess by the end of the season.

“What other choice do I have?” He had asked them, in the privacy of his chambers.

In the small moments between them, he had seen the comfort Alicent had given him. Yet, it hadn’t been because she had wished to. It had all been Otto’s idea and he hadn’t known. Jae wanted to scream it, to drive it through his head until he understood, but it would’ve all been pointless. It would cause more grief, more suffering. If Viserys sent Otto away while Alicent had no courtly standing within the Red Keep, she would leave with him. She would be forced into even more misery.

So, Jae remained quiet. There was no other choice, was there?

Rhaenyra watched Alicent walk gracefully up the hall of the Sept with her brother guiding her. She hadn’t seen the poor boy since the tourney, where her uncle had unseated him in a less-than-kind manner. Truthfully, she hadn’t even seen him then, his helmet had hidden his features fully. He looked like Alicent in many ways, though with sharper edges and more anger than fear. He looked as miserable about the entire thing as the two girls were, though he made less effort to hide it. Alicent looked to her friend for a moment before Viserys took her hand and Rhaenyra barely managed a small smile that didn’t wobble under her flood of emotions. She hated the helpless feeling as she watched and listened to her dearest friend shakily recite the vows the Septon had said, watching the cloth cover and wrap around the joined hands. Alicent had looked radiant in her wedding gown and grand tiara, a mix of white, red, and gold decorating her. Still, the princess felt ill the entire time, watching the dragon wings on the dress flutter with how much her friend was trembling.

She remembered helping her lace the gown and looking at their shared reflection in the mirror, just as they had done when Alicent had helped her the day she was named heir. She was paler than Rhaenyra had ever seen her before, smoothing her palms over the length of the dress to keep from picking at her fingers. They’d barely begun to heal since she picked them raw before and Grand Maester Mellos had threatened to bind her hands completely to force her to stop until the wedding. Rhaenyra was certain that if he tried, Syrax would welcome a fresh snack.

“Is this what you truly want?” She had asked, stepping closer behind the bride-to-be with a furrowed brow and glassy eyes.

Alicent had simply remained silent, not lifting her eyes to meet the reflection. That would make it real, a future she couldn’t escape from despite never choosing it. They both knew the answer, though it wasn’t as if saying it would change a thing. They were both powerless to stop either of their fathers.

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra tried again, moving to her side to slip her arm through hers. “Please.”

Brown eyes met violet ones and she quickly looked away as her lower lip wobbled. She had barely turned seven and ten and felt half that age, shaking within the fire-lit room. She longed for the arms of her mother, Rhaenyra’s mother, any mother that would make better sense of it all. Instead, she leaned into the princess, letting her forehead rest against hers even as the curls piled high on her head threatened to topple over against the hold of the seemingly hundreds of pins holding it together.

It felt pointless entirely and still, she couldn’t say she hated it. Not aloud, at least.

Rhaenyra did not sleep the night of the wedding and Alicent did not seek her out the following day. Instead, she stayed in bed, weeping, only allowing Jaeda to see her.

The sheets were changed and Viserys stayed in separate chambers until the next time.

That was how time passed. Alicent became accustomed to her place in the Keep, in a new room that was larger than the one before with more Targaryen things than Hightower, and the new title of Queen Consort tacked onto her name instead of Lady. She was glad for the company of her dearest friend after the initial shock had worn away, craving the gentle affection and delicate hands that the princess had always had when they spent time together. It seemed the princess was more careful with her after the wedding. Alicent didn’t seem to notice.

Many had thought the marriage between Alicent and Viserys would have driven the princess away from them entirely. More had called it a betrayal, assuming the former Lady Hightower had sought out such a union herself to elevate her standing, assisted by her father in the process. However, it only served to bind them closer and many lords would say it was rare to see the new Queen without the princess attached to her hip, the princess’ loyal sword trailing behind them like a guard dog.

That was how life continued in the Red Keep for a handful of weeks, perhaps even a few months. When Viserys requested Alicent’s presence, she would hide away for a time until she felt Rhaenyra would not look at her with disgust, not knowing if she would hold such things against her. They would spend time together, learning the ins and outs of court side by side during council meetings or tutoring by Jaeda. Rhaenyra even convinced Alicent eventually to board Syrax with her, though the height on the dragon’s back alone had scared her enough that the princess didn’t dare push for a flight. Alicent swore Syrax had laughed at her shaking legs once they’d dismounted.

The door to Jae’s room swung open slightly quicker than anyone would usually open it and on the other side stood a poor handmaiden who suddenly looked more frightened than a mouse facing a tomcat. Jae simply blinked at the girl, a similar slow blink that a bored cat might do, as the girl recovered from her stumbling blunder. She was one of the newer maids, Jae noted, the doe-eyed, shaking frame gave her away. Those were the ones the Red Keep ate alive, they mused. It only took a moment for the maid to lift her eyes for a moment before ducking her head again under the watchful golden gaze, fingers clutching at the apron over her red skirt.

“Queen Alicent has requested you in her chambers, my lady,” the words were stumbled over and shaky, but they passed her lips with more volume than they’d thought she’d have.

“Very well. Did she give you a reason as to request my presence?”

Jaeda tucked a purple piece of fabric between the pages of her book, marking her place before the tome found a home on the small table beside her favorite chair. It was a rather interesting one, it must’ve been newer as they hadn’t read it before and that was such a rare treat even with the Red Keep’s library. Perhaps it was a tome from Dorne the maesters had finished illuminating or perhaps even from Essos. They would have to look into it further later; the humorously written romance didn’t give any origin away like history so often did.

The maid's hands twist nervously in her skirts. "The queen has locked herself in her room and says you and the princess are the only ones she will see. She requested the maesters this morning when she felt ill and Grand Maester Mellos believes she is with child."

Jae felt their blood run cold as their vision narrowed suddenly. Red tinged the edge of everything within their line of sight before anxiety settled over everything like a blanket. Alicent must have been terrified when she realized what missing her monthly bleeding meant, how she was well and truly trapped more than ever. Jae was certain the king had been trying with his new queen, though not nearly as purposely as he had with his late wife. Surely there was still a pressure to bear heirs, but with the line of succession following Rhaenyra, there wasn't a franticness to it any longer.

Meaning, he had wanted to have another child. That he hadn't even so much as considered how it would affect Alicent when she fell pregnant, in a separate chamber from everyone, left alone at the mercy of the maesters and maids as they poked and prodded at her with only concern for the unborn child.

Jaeda didn't let another word pass the maid's lips before she swept out of the room entirely, skirts billowing behind her as she crossed the halls of Maegor's Holdfast to the royal apartments. It was far too quiet, she thought, even knowing that the king was no doubt seeing to his responsibilities, the Hand was most likely accompanying him, and many of the servants were going about their daily tasks to keep the Keep running smoothly. Still, it was eerily silent as she approached the closed door of Alicent's chambers, recalling how the maid had said she had locked herself within it.

Alicent startled when the door opened, confusion overwhelming the fear and tears streaming down her cheeks. She mumbled something about how she thought it was locked, how could she have opened it, but such thoughts were quickly drowned out when Jaeda joined her on the edge of her bed.

The queen hadn't even changed out of her nightdress, the white, billowing fabric dwarfing the young girl and making her look even younger. The idea that in less than a year, a girl she still viewed as a child would have her own nearly sent Jaeda into another bout of anger.

However, that wasn't what was needed.

Rhaenyra joined soon after and she and her father's advisor shared a look. There was no doubt then that, now that the maids had done as requested, the rumor of Alicent being with child would spread throughout the Red Keep and find its way to the ears of Otto and Viserys. For the small amount of time they had before that, however, they would spend it amongst themselves, curled into the protective arms of Jaeda to escape the expectations of the kingdom around them.

As expected, Viserys was overjoyed at the idea of another child, no doubt already imagining a son to grow up under Rhaenyra's wing. Otto was smugly pleased, as well, eyes trained on his daughter in a way that made Jaeda want to tear into him.

They quelled their anger, if only in public, and the months of pregnancy carried on with little issue. Rhaenyra barely left Alicent's side, assisting her near daily and even neglecting to go on her flights on Syrax in favor of her dearest friend. She was the first to know when the baby kicked, when they shifted, already predicting that the baby no doubt had dragon blood when Alicent complained about the child driving her mad from its obsessive wiggling. Alicent had nearly thrown the embroidery she'd been working on at the princess, the two of them erupting into giggles after.

While it had been years since the Red Keep had last seen the birth of a child, none within the walls had forgotten the screams of childbirth. When Alicent’s labors had begun, many of the nursemaids had worried for her. It seemed that nearly the entire kingdom was still rocked from the tragedy of Aemma’s passing and how it had come about, how quickly everything had turned from a celebration of a new heir to mourning the loss of a queen and prince. None had worried as much as the princess and advisor, however, both of which had shoved past the grand maester himself to be with Alicent. Jae had long since vowed they wouldn’t leave another to the same fate as Aemma if they could help it.

It was a boy. Thin, white-blonde hair, violet eyes, everyone had been thrilled by his looks. He was every bit a Targaryen, the first son of Viserys Targaryen to live beyond a handful of days. Viserys had entered the room shortly after a maid had gone to fetch him as the maesters fussed over the baby and Jae had fussed over Alicent. The poor queen had been exhausted and paler than they’d liked, but smiled all the same when the infant was placed at her breast. She was clumsy and awkward at first, feeling like such a small thing was far too fragile to hold so soon, but Jae quickly soothed her worries when they guided her hands to cradle his head, to curl under and around him until he settled. Viserys had all but beamed at the sight of his son, immediately calling him Aegon and deeming him perfect for such a heavy name. Rhaenyra had all but scrunched her nose at the name as he lifted his new son into his arms, the infant doing much the same.

If anyone had thought Rhaenyra doting before, the time after the birth had caused the girls to become inseparable. Alicent was rarely seen without the princess and more often than not, Rhaenyra was holding Aegon. Neither had truly ever cared for a child themselves and they learned together, each new experience being safe-guarded in their hearts. While Viserys and Otto had viewed Aegon as a triumph, that the gods had truly blessed the Targaryen house once again with a healthy child, Alicent relished in the fact that the princess watched her son with affection and care, knowing the boy was an extension of Alicent herself.

For once in many years, Jae found themselves almost at ease within the stone halls of the Red Keep.

Fallon, however, had no such luck.

While she had been asked to be the princess’ sworn protector, she was not always granted the privilege to freely be at her side. The kingsguard were who she truly answered to, something she hadn’t considered when the offer had been laid out to her, and many of the younger men found it ceaselessly entertaining that a woman would be in service alongside them, not to mention a noblewoman at that.

To make matters worse, with Daemon now officially absconded from King’s Landing and Dragonstone, a new commander of the City Watch had to be appointed. It seemed everything worked to further drive her mad when news arrived that Ser Harwin would be the new commander, placing him within arm’s length at all times. She had assumed she’d have time and distance to consider the marriage, to possibly come up with any manner of lies to get out of the arrangement. Hells, she even thought that her becoming the princess’ sworn protector would be enough to drive the betrothal into an early grave. However, it seemed as though the very Maiden she had had painted onto her shield mocked her.

It was one of the mornings that Ser Westerling had grown entirely too exhausted in balancing Fallon’s sense of duty and the teasing remarks from some of the other kingsguard that bordered on mocking. Ser Cole was one of the most vocal, pushing the princess’ sworn sword nearly to the point of lashing out and only backing away when she turned on him or if the lord commander began to pay attention. She’d been assured countless times that it was the men’s way of welcoming her into the fold, but the more she was called the princess’ Maiden knight, if she was certain that she was acceptable for such a role, if she was even a woman, she was less and less certain of what her place amongst such men was.

Which was how she found herself in the training yard again. It was always where she was sent after Westerling had had enough. He knew she didn’t need nearly as much training or supervision, he’d seen her at the tourney even if it had been years ago at that point, so he often masked her punishment for acting out by sending her away. It was a respite for her and him both; she was free to hack away at lifeless dummies and he was free from the bickering of his men. He’d often told her the exchanges often reminded him of women’s sewing circles and she had laughed. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

To her disappointment, the training yard was occupied, for lack of a better word. There was plenty of room for her to do as she wished, but when a handful of the City Watch’s newest recruits were stood amongst the training equipment, it did make it rather difficult.

He made it all the more difficult.

Harwin, upon seeing Fallon, nearly lit up. If she hadn’t been watching him as well, she likely would’ve missed the glint of his dark eyes, how his posture changed from almost exhausted defeat as another recruit fumbled and flailed his sword to rigid and attentive the moment she was within shouting distance. Fallon was surprised he hadn’t started shouting yet, that he waited for her to visit the sword stand, picking over the weapons meticulously like she truly cared before testing the weight of one. It was a show, she supposed, one that wasn’t really necessary. It only prolonged the moment she thought she dreaded, when she would have to speak to the men who had been there before her.

Harwin smiled kindly at her once she put the sword down and finally wandered over closer, turning her attention to the men he was training. “Did Ser Westerling send his best to assist in whipping the newest city guards?”

While she had assumed many of the new recruits would be young men wanting to show their mettle, she was surprised to see a more varied range of ages. While none were very old, there were a few she was sure had seen true battle. Perhaps not a war, but certainly a battle or two that had wetted their blade with blood from an enemy instead of a rivaling lord’s son.

“His best? Quite a high compliment from the commander of the City Watch, Ser Strong.”

If her stoic politeness stilted with awkwardness bothered him, he certainly didn’t show it. His smile didn’t once falter, even when he looked from her to the men still stumbling through basic sword stances.

“And, to be honest, none knew you would be training the whelps at this time.”

“Duty never rests, though I suppose you would know that well.”

Fallon made a face, her top lip curling to nearly bare her teeth before she caught herself. She wondered if that was the remaining teachings of her mother; such expressions weren’t attractive or very appropriate for a young lady of such a proud house. It had always made her want to bare her teeth entirely, to growl and hiss and spit like a creature cursed to madness. Yet, she always schooled herself to her mother’s liking, to keep things civil and calm, up until she could sneak away to bury her sword into straw-filled burlap or carve away at wooden posts.

Instead, she squared her shoulders, her palm resting against the pommel of her sword at her hip. “Duty within the City Watch will be a welcome sight to see again. I fear the prince’s influence did very little to truly allow duty and trust to flourish within the ranks and people.”

Harwin chuckled. “I do believe you’re right, my lady.”

Her eyes flicked to a small grouping of men whispering between themselves, their eyes not watching the coupled sparring matches but rather, watching her. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end and she felt like a bristling dog, on edge, ready to be attacked. She found that such a feeling had nearly become her natural state, day in and day out.

“Would you help me with them?”

She blinked, pulling her attention away. “Pardon?”

Her betrothed gestured towards the group, taking a step away from her as one of the men fell and a few of them jeered at him. “Help me teach them a thing or two before I send them to their barracks.”

Fallon forced down the grumble growing in her throat, begrudgingly following behind him as he pulled focus from their taunting teasing to him.

It was almost impressive how quickly they came to attention, she thought. At least they had respect for their commander, new though he was. She almost stopped when the thought crossed her mind, brows furrowing almost disappointedly with herself. Why was she pleased they respected him? She hardly cared.

Right?

“Lads,” his voice was strong and loud, carrying clear across the courtyard, she was certain, “seems like it’s our lucky day.”

‘Lucky’ was never a word she had used to describe her presence. Lucky was usually the farthest thing from her mind in such situations, though to tell Harwin otherwise would have him thinking it a lie. The uncomfortable pressure of eyes on her returned and her shoulders squared again, her armor glinting golden in the midday sun. She’d left the heaviest pieces behind, such things were usually used for show or tourneys only, but her shoulder plates still bore the symbol of her house; the everwatchful, almost angry stare of a lion.

One of the younger men sniffed, eyeing her in a way that settled between wary and darkly. “Not e’ery day a kingsguard makes time for us folk.”

“I am not a kingsguard, ser-”

“Brennan.” The man sniffed again.

“Ser Brennan. Lord Commander Westerling merely trains me alongside his kingsguard knights.”

Another man elbows Brennan with an almost smug, knowing look. “Told ya they don’t let women folk join ‘em.”

“Stewar!” Harwin barked, an almost dark grin on his face. “Good of you to volunteer for next spar. Grab your weapon.”

Stewar blinked at his commander before grabbing a broadsword and stepping into the handmade ring they’d been using. He expected the commander to pick another one of the men to pit against him, to run them through their paces again, or even face against him himself. It was no secret that Harwin Strong disliked any ill words towards his betrothed, regardless of her feelings on the matter, and the man had made possibly the most grievous mistake of the day.

His face paled when Harwin gestured for Fallon to enter after him.

“They should see what’s expected of King’s Landing’s finest.”

She’d huffed at his words, but drew her sword all the same as she moved to walk past the men now staring at her with wide eyes.

Most had been present years ago for the late prince’s tourney, had seen her face off against Daemon Targaryen and win, so there was no doubt, despite their comments, that she was a skilled fighter. Perhaps more skilled than all of them combined, there was truly no telling what her full ability was outside of a true battle.The idea of fighting against her had the younger ones thanking the gods that they hadn’t spoken out of turn and the older men eager to see just how she would ruin the man who had.

Stewar, for his credit, jutted out his chin and raised the blade of his weapon as she did. Harwin stood to the side, arms crossed, and the biggest grin she thought she’d seen on a man.

“Begin!”

While she was certain she had been asked to step into the ring simply to get the men to cease gossiping like ladies at court, Fallon had the thought pass in her mind that this wasn’t truly fair to the soldiers in training. Such thoughts were all but confirmed when Stewar found his ass in the dirt, nursing a growing bruise on his cheekbone from the hilt of her sword. It had taken less than a minute for the fight to finish, almost a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, and the small crowd of men fell absolutely silent. There wasn’t a single jeer or laugh until Stewar stumbled to his feet and Harwin started clapping.

“The lady has demonstrated what needs work with you lot perfectly. My thanks and gratitude, Lady Lannister.”

Fallon schooled her face to remain neutral as he bowed slightly, giving her all due respect she was entitled to. The small act still made her muscles stiffen and an uneasiness settled in her stomach, but it wasn’t as bad without her mother’s preening, sneering look beside her. She gave her own little broken bow, hoping the men would assume the armor made her more awkward and that it wasn’t simply her.

As she walked back towards the palace walls, she heard Harwin barking orders at his men again, telling them to hold their swords higher, their feet needed to be further apart or closer together, and one of the soldiers said to listen before another ended up on the wrong end of the Maiden Knight’s sword.

She would never admit it, but she smiled at the thought. She would never be a kingsguard, that much was truth in such a society in King’s Landing, but perhaps she could wear her tourney knightship just as proudly as a white cloak.

Tags: @dreaming-of-illusory-flowers|@soup-entity|@yippeecore

#jae briarwood #fallon lannister #i so desperately wish i could just have rhaenicent be canon but alas #i want alicent's bitchass kids #helaena isnt a bitchass she is my sweet angel #a rewritten history of fire and blood #my writing

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