𝑾𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑬 - 𝐻𝑂𝑇𝐷．

chapter one.

( ACT I; the calm before the storm. )
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chapter 1: rhaela targaryen.

ALICENT Hightower was a complicated, worrisome woman. It was obvious with the years that passed. For a young girl, Rhaela Targaryen thought she knew her mother well enough to guess the reason for her general disposition, the way her mind worked, but she was often left surprised by aggrieved reactions. Her mother had often been distant, begrudgingly accepting her father's affection since as early in her life as she could remember. A part of her believe that's how all parents were toward each other.

Before the news of Rhaela's elder half-sister, Rhaenyra, having a successful birth yet again reached the queen, the young princess had been in the company of her mother in her chambers as she often was. As taboo as the fact was, Rhaela was noticeably preferred by her mother over her siblings, Aegon the epitome of a royal prick, Helaena often too focused on her fascination with insects and riddles that never made sense. Aemond, the sibling that had been born after Rhaela, was the only one that the princess ever had anything to do with. They were betrothed to one another, after all.

The doors to her mothers chambers opened with a groan, likely at the behest of one of the guards in the hall, Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor Velaryon stepping inside. The young girl found herself in shock once her elder sister stood before them, all disheveled and bearing the signs of the difficult birth that had just occurred. Covered in the obvious residue of sweat, Rhaenyra's white-blond hair was messy and stuck to her cheek and neck as she practically limped to present her newborn child whom she must have insisted to bring herself. The young princess flashed her mother a lilac look, eyes narrowed before she focused back on her sister.

"By the Seven, Rhaenyra, why aren't you abed?" Rhaela's mother exclaimed as she quickly wandered toward the princess who held her son to her chest. "You shouldn't be walking in your condition."

"It's a boy?" Rhaela asked her sister excitedly from where she stood, Alicent's half-hearted concern forgotten. Rhaenyra replied with a warm but tired smile and nodded to the young girl before directing her gaze back to the queen. It returned to the usual mask that Rhaela's sister often used in the presence of the young girl's mother. Something she'd grown aware of as the years passed.

Rhaela followed after her mother to catch a glimpse at her new nephew, wandering up to Alicent's side. Getting to the tip of her toes, the princess strained to catch a glimpse of the quiet babe wrapped in the blanket. Managing to see him, she smiled. Such tiny features, she noted. She took a step back as her mother went to envelop the babe in her own arms.

"It was a difficult birth, but I am fairing just fine," Rhaenyra replied shortly to Alicent, her warm demeanor used toward Rhaela replaced with a lack of warmth. "I wished to present him myself."

Alicent's intense resentment toward Rhaenyra grew and stayed persistent every time she saw a dark haired child born of the princess. This child would be the fourth that her old friend produced, the first starting with Princess Aemera. Her husband's eldest daughter held no consequence of her own, Alicent knew, yet anytime she spotted her or either of her two brothers in the Red Keep, her heart would flutter with disdain. Rhaenyra's children were a living and ever persistent reminder that Alicent was bound to the life she was given, married to a man thrice her age while Rhaenyra would simply live her life as she chose. This was her fourth child with a mess of chocolate curls. The princess' unchecked behavior often filled the queen with haughty jealousy, as well as a drive to make sure she received justice.