dancing with our hands tied | r. targaryen

i.

110 A.C.
KING'S LANDING
•••

ALAYNE HIGHTOWER WAS LATE. WHEN SHE WOKE THAT MORNING SHE THOUGHT she'd have enough time for her morning reading, but she had been entirely wrong because she'd lost track of time and now she was late and if word got back to her father, then Alayne was certain that she wouldn't hear the end of it.

She was trying to maintain ladylike as she walked briskly through the castle walls, but she forgets that as she holds up the skirts of her dress and takes off running up the stairs. As she reaches the door to the Queen's chambers, Alayne smiles at Ser Lorent Marbrand who was standing guard.

"Ser Lorent!" Alayne exclaims with a grin, getting the knight's attention, "How are you feeling today?"

"You're late," Ser Lorent says as he reaches for the door handle and opens it, "Again."

"I'm well aware," Alayne mutters as she steps inside. As she enters the bedroom she spots Queen Aemma lying in bed, her hand on her belly which seemed to be growing larger with every passing day. Alayne continued to smile as she approached the queen's bedside, but she could see the frown on Her Grace's lips.

"You're late," Queen Aemma states.

Alayne dropped her head in reverence, "Your Grace. A not late, I would say that I am simply running behind schedule," Alayne corrects.

Queen Aemma chuckles at the comment despite herself, "Which is still late."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," Alayne apologizes, as she looks away shyly. It had been two years now that she'd been in the queen's service and yet one might think that she'd just begun yesterday with how sheepish she was in the presence of the queen. "I lost track of time reading in the Godswood."

Alayne wasn't a shy girl. She was hardly a quiet one, but she found herself becoming shy in the presence of Queen Aemma. She believed it to be because she held her in high regard she also attributed it to the fact that the Queen was the closest thing to a mother Alayne had since she lost her own.

"And what did you steal from the library this time?" Aemma wonders. She was used to Alayne getting lost in her stories and always arriving a little late to begin her duties.

Alayne's cheeks warm at the question, "Borrow, Your Grace. Not steal."

"Yes," Aemma says amused, "What book did you borrow?"

"The conquest of Visenya and Rhaenys," Alayne answers.

"I'm sure that there is one major player that you're forgetting," Aemma says.

"Oh," Alayne says hitting herself on the forehead playfully, "Aegon was also there. How could I forget?"

Aemma shakes her head but smiles at Alayne. The young lady laughs to herself as she looks at the Queen.

"Certainly, I thought you'd be reading about Nymeria's conquest. I know it's a favorite of yours."

"Yes," Alayne says as she looks away from the queen, and toward the window, "It is a favorite of mine. My mother would read it to Alicent and I. Alicent wasn't fond, but I was. In a way reading it helps me feel closer to her."

"I see," Aemma says as she looks at Alayne, "It is drawing near the anniversary isn't it?"

Alayne nods her head, "It is."

Aemma purses her lips, "Your mother was a lovely woman."

"So everyone tells me," Alayne speaks softly as she looks at the ground.

Aemma tilts her head as she looks at Alayne, "It is the truth. Do you not believe it?"

"I do," Alayne answers quickly, "Or at least I want to. It is hard when my father finds it unbearable to look at me because I bear my mother's face." Alayne looks away and down at her fingers, "He says that I even mimic her mannerisms."