𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗪𝗡 I AEMOND TARGARYEN

̶(̶ ̶0̶1̶ ̶)̶

117 AC. DRIFTMARK

Alicent Hightower.

Alicent Hightower stared into the fire, clothed in vengeful green.

Disgust arose in her as she watched the fire play with the wood. It wrapped its flames around it and never let go.

This evening tasted bitter on her tongue. But no matter how many times she swallowed, the bitter taste remained.

Fire was the foundation of her family's power and yet she hated it. It always craved more, never had enough, and took what it didn't deserve.

At first it promised you warmth and security, but when you reached out to touch it, it burned you mercilessly. In the presence of fire, you were never safe. Alicent now understood.

As she stared there into the fire, she realized that she had lost a battle that evening. And that it wouldn't be the last. It was her duty as a mother to protect her children and she had failed. That night she realized that she had to leave the past behind. Her father had been right. With everything he had said. Rhaenyra was dangerous and she finally understood it. Her presence tormented her, reminded her of the days she should have long forgotten.

And that fire was the symbolism of their burned friendship.

The heat burned her cheeks, drying the tears she had shed that night.

She still saw her son's battered face in front of her, even though it had been several hours since she had put him to bed, Milk of the poppy on his lips to ease the pain he was suffering. She would never forget the sight of him. The destroyed eye, the cut that ran across the entire side of his face and the pain in his expression.

A knock jolted her from her thoughts. She ordered the maid to enter. Perhaps the king wanted to see her? He had always been a good husband to her. He never disrespected her and she was grateful for his love, even though she had hoped otherwise as a young girl. But that night Alicent felt like she had lost his respect. Never before had he looked at her as he did today. She had never seen such anger in his eyes. Didn't he understand that everything she did was only for him and the children?

"Lord Larys Strong requests your permission to enter."

For a brief moment she had considered telling Larys to go away and never seek her out again, she had been too disgusted by his act of justice, as he called it. Murdering his own father and brother, for the Queen, he said. But Alicent was smart enough to know that he had done this only for himself. He was only using her as an excuse to get himself off the hook. Nevertheless, she could not forget the evenings spent together with him, the things she had confided in him and also the fact that she had her father by her side again because of him.

She allowed him to enter.

"My queen," Lord Larys said, propping himself up on his cane. "A very eventful evening we have had. Are you well?"

He looked concerned. Alicent would like to know how much of it was genuine.

"No, to be honest, but I am not the main victim. My son Aemond is forever marked, punished, because the sons of Princess Rhaenyra can do as they please."

"A unfortunate circumstance, your Grace." Lord Larys sat down unbidden, but Alicent had long overlooked such things. "What do you intend to do about it?"

Alicent looked at him in irritation. "What do you mean with 'What am I going to do about it'? You heard the king. My hands are tied."

"Well, the king has forbidden that you take the boy's eye and blood to be spilled, but there are other ways to exact justice, my Queen."