Canon Divergent Fix-It Fic Trilogy with a HEA. Multi-POV. Show/Canon merging. Not only romance-centric.
They weren't even giving her to him, not to love like he wanted. No, they were taking his Maiden and turning her into a pawn just like him, placi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Summary:Alicent breaks and tries to mend. Jace tries to find Helaena. A twist within the thread.
So, I guess people aren't into this story since I haven't received any comments here, which is fine! But if you are reading, I'd love to hear from you <3
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Cassandra Baratheon has bled."
The queen's rooms were quiet. Rich green and black drapes hung open as wide as they could to allow the light in, but the panes were closed to the cool fall breeze. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, dancing along the decorative stone swirls along the mantle. The usual gaggle of women that occupied the room had been absent these past few days - her court having dispersed to deal with multiple assignments for the daily running of the castle and the wedding. Alicent looked up from the parchment before her, releasing her lower lip from the intensity of her gnawing teeth. Her gaze met Lady Lysa's from where the elder woman looked up from her own sheaf of parchment.
"I will go and speak with Lord Beesbury on these matters, Your Grace," she said softly, rising in a whisper of apple red silk, her usual caul replaced by a barbette and veil given the cooler weather. The way the woman turned her head, reaching for her papers, reminded Alicent of her own mother in such a swift and sharply unexpected moment, that Alicent's chest clenched and stole her breath. Lysa Fossoway was her beacon of normalcy over the past years, but she was not her mother.
How desperately she wished her mother was here. How keenly that feeling sharpened as the other woman left and Alicent remained here, alone, with Lord Larys Strong.
His firefly-handled cane thumped softly against the rich rugs scattered about her solar and he took a seat on the chaise, settling himself down like a vulture, waiting to feast. On her secrets, on her thoughts, on wherever his tightly guarded whims struck him. Yet, she had few that she could call confidant, even if she dare not call him friend.
"Good." The snap of the wooden pen box punctuated the single word as Alicent put away her ink and tucked away the parchments that Larys so curiously watched. "Lord Borros insisted that we have this engagement sealed before the new year and the wedding."
