Looks may be deceiving as a picture of innocents and purity prowls the halls of the keep, one can never truly be safe.
In which Alicent Hightower and Visery Targaryens youngest daughter is a dreamer.
"Do you know what keeps me awake at night... it's...
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Plans never really come into motion the way most would hope. That was no different for Alysanne. She may have the ability to see into the future, but what she saw was limited.
Sometimes it would be a small glimpse, a taste of pain or just muffled voices.
It was unclear as to when or how certain events would take place.
She knew for a fact that her sister Helaena was entailed to marry their older brother Aegon, so she made it her goal to prevent that from taking place, with words of encouragement whispered into her grandfather's ear, it was done.
However this had led to Aegon being unwed and heirless, besides the bastards running within Fleabottom.
She knew this may cost her in times of war, any family would offer up their daughters to become queen and create greater ties for war, strengthening their claim.
It was a great worry she had pondered about regularly. She could have offered herself up, her brother would not have minded, although he would have gotten bored within a moons time, but a well planned out death would have fixed that once she became with child.
But it was too late for that she would become a Stark within this next coming moon, time to give up apart of who she was, but she knew for a fact that it would not change her as person, she will manipulate those around her and ensure that any heir she may produce will remain faithful beside her side.
The North was important. They were known for being brutal but also honourable, exactly what was needed in times of war and if she so happened to be mistreated by her lord husband, war was known to have a lot of casualties.
The strings of her dress made it hard to breathe as she changed into a pale green dress, the boning of the corset lining the bodice dug into her ribs, but her face remained passive, although a light smile was placed on her lips as she stood beside her kin within the throne room.
She could sense the tension in the air. Thick with want. Want for power.
The swords sticking from the floors surrounding the throne was deemed as a warning, a warning to those who tried to take over the position of power it gave to its ruler.
Her grandfather looked quite comfortable on top of it as he peered down on all that dwelled beneath him.
Alysanne let out a small sniff at the thought.
Her eyes did not waver from her position as she stared intently, most definitely not at Vaemond Velaryon, but rather to his niece of sort.
Clad in an ocean blue and hair laying freely in soft curls, Alysanne could not help but be slightly mesmerised. She was by far the most admirable person within the room.
The blue contrasted greatly with those around her. Where harsh colours of black surrounded her she stood steady in blue.
Their eyes had met momentarily when she had first entered the throne room, small meaningful smiles shared between the two, gaze flickering from each other every couple of seconds taking in the appearance of one another they had not seen for six summers.
