The Realm's Fright | HOTD S1 | Fem!OC x Aemond Targaryen Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Three

In the heavy stillness of the Sept, the flickering candlelight casting long, trembling shadows across the ancient stones, Queen Alicent’s voice pierced the silence like a dagger through velvet. The low murmur of their prayers had faded, and now it was only the sound of their breaths, and the echo of the Queen’s words. She asked, softly but with an edge that cut through the air, about what had happened the night before. Alysanne's heart faltered in her chest, a heavy weight pressing against her ribs, but there was no hiding the truth now. No feigning innocence.

Alysanne’s hands trembled as she looked up, meeting Alicent’s searching gaze. The Queen’s expression was one of maternal concern, but Alysanne could see the shadows lurking beneath it, shadows of a mother who had long suffered the darkness of her own household. It was as if Alicent had heard the whispering voices of the Red Keep itself, the rumors that passed from lip to lip in the shadows, all of them speaking of the drunken debauchery of her eldest son, and the indiscretions that followed. The Queen's brow furrowed as she pressed for confirmation, and Alysanne felt herself falter, the weight of the moment heavier than any iron chains.

With a swallow, Alysanne spoke, her voice barely a whisper, the words heavy with the burden of truth. "It is true," she said. "Aegon... he did what they say."

The confession hung between them, the air thick with unspoken words. Alicent’s eyes closed for a moment, as though she were willing herself to absorb the weight of it. When her eyes opened again, they were filled not with fury, but a cold, calculated understanding. "Aegon is not himself when he is drunk," she murmured, almost to herself, her voice faint but tinged with a sadness that Alysanne could almost taste. "You must know that, Alysanne. He is... broken in ways I cannot mend. But you must also know this: if it happens again, you are to come to me. At once. Do you understand?"

Alysanne nodded stiffly, but inside, a terrible thought began to take root. The years-old rumor, whispered among the courtiers and servants alike, surfaced in her mind. The rumor of Alicent’s madness. How she was driven to the edge by the cruelty of her children, her husband's death, and the endless games of power that wove through the Red Keep like a spider’s web. Alysanne had dismissed it at first, as mere gossip, as women’s chatter borne from envy or spite. But now, with the Queen before her, her eyes wide and pleading for understanding, Alysanne began to wonder if there was more to the tale than she had ever considered.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, a haze of duty and ritual. Alicent had worked her to the bone, dragging her through hours of prayers, forcing her to kneel before the Mother in the Sept, each moment stretching into an eternity of aching limbs and silent agony. They prayed, of course, for the success of the pregnancy—for Alysanne’s child, and for the continuation of House Targaryen’s bloodline. But the prayer felt hollow now, a ritual she was forced to endure rather than a source of solace.

The cramps from her extended prayers lingered, gnawing at her with each step she took. She could hardly stand, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her, the weight of the Queen’s expectations pressing down on her chest. It was as though she were being asked to pray away her pain, but she had no belief left in the Gods. No faith in rituals. The thought of returning to the Sept, to repeat the process, made her feel as though she might lose the child she carried before it even had a chance to be born.

In the privacy of her own chambers, the idea of being locked away from the world, kept safe from the venomous whispers of Aegon’s possible wrath, began to seem almost kind. Aemond had suggested it once, his voice dark with concern, speaking of keeping her out of sight to avoid the dangers of his brother’s drunken rage. The idea of being locked away from the world might have been a lesser evil than the games her family played in the halls of the Red Keep.