The Grey Wolf & The Golden Dragon | Aegon Targaryen II

River of Red

Alysanne

Alysanne Stark walked through the halls of the Red Keep with her back rigid; her chin held high. Beneath her cool and calm exterior, she felt like she was crumbling under the weight of the crown. With Aegon so injured he could not leave his bed, Alysanne and Aemond were left to deal with court matters, along with endless meetings with Ser Criston regarding the war. Though the Blacks hadn't made any blatant moves since Rhaenys' death, they knew it was only a matter of time, especially with the news that they were seeking Dragonseeds.

As Alysanne passed a group of courtiers, the women went silent, staring at her with wide eyes as they inclined their heads. The moment she passed, however, they began whispering fervently. Aly knew that rumors were spreading through the kingdoms about what she had done at Winterfell. She tried not to let other people's opinions affect her, but she felt more alone than ever and the whispers ate at her like snake venom, poisoning her thoughts.

"Lord Larys," Alysanne greeted, stepping into the room without bothering to knock. The Queen Mother was seated on the sofa across from Larys Strong, and stiffened the moment she heard Alysanne's voice.

"Your Grace..." Alysanne greeted softly, dipping her head in respect to Alicent. The Queen Mother grimaced at Alysanne for a brief moment before fleeing the room. Alysanne sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. While she didn't blame Alicent for her resentment, it irritated her that her mother-by-law refused to allow her a chance to bridge the gap between them. After all, Alysanne hadn't been the one who betrayed the crown; Otto had done that all on his own...

"Lord Larys," she began again, taking the seat Alicent had occupied a moment before. "Does my Master of Spies have any news for me?" she asked calmly.

"I'm sorry, my Queen, but I do not." Larys replied with an apologetic smile. "I've received reports of a few rumors, but none that can be believed..."

"Mmm," Alysanne sighed, "How disappointing..." Elin was already proving herself far more useful than Larys Strong and Aly wondered why Alicent had kept him around for so long. "Perhaps it's time for us to find a new Master of Spies..." she mused.

"Your Grace?"

"What good are you to me, to the crown, if you don't have any information when we desperately need it?" she snapped in return, growing angry with his feigned innocence. "Why do my own spies tell me more of the Black's movements than you?" Larys stared at her for a moment before a soft smile spread across his face.

"The Queen Mother and I had an arrangement that worked well for the both of us. Perhaps, with the right incentive..." She watched as Larys' eyes traveled her form, sliding down her legs and settling on the ground beneath her feet. It took everything in Alysanne not to recoil at his not-so-hidden suggestion. Was he truly implying that she would fuck him for information?

"Do I look like a harlot to you?" she asked, her lip curling back as she glared at him.

"Not at all, Your Grace." Larys replied, "And I would never impugn your honor—"

"You are impugning my honor!" she hissed, rising from her chair. "Be careful, Lord Strong, for my tolerance toward you is quickly waning. You best pray I don't tell my lord husband that you just propositioned me. You might find yourself meeting the same fate as Otto Hightower..." Without another word, she stormed from the room, fuming. How dare he imply that she might whore herself for his help?

Daeron

"Do you think your brother, now that he's King, will allow us to marry?" Torlyn whispered, stroking her fingers through Daeron's hair as they lay entwined in his bed. Since Rook's Rest, Alysanne had needed little of Torlyn's assistance, and she had been spending every moment of her free time with the prince.