[1] SEVEN SINS, Aegon II Targaryen

[3] nobody's son, nobody's daughter

[3]
NOBODY'S SON
NOBODY'S DAUGHTER

       If Maera wasn't drinking, she was surely reading.

       She devoured stories and knowledge, absorbing them like an academic gathering wisdom. After the incident at the dragon pit, she found herself curled beside Helaena, seeking refuge in the stillness. The two sisters, each lost in their own world, shared the space in quiet harmony.

      Maera lay across Helaena's lap, engrossed in a stolen book on mathematics (from a newcomer maester from Pentos), the pages a comforting distraction. Meanwhile, Helaena, ever the dreamer, watched her crawling, chittering companions dance across her palm. They sat on the floor, silent, the crisp stillness wrapping around them like a soft veil.

       Helaena had always been Maera's breath of serenity, a calming presence where she could find peace, no matter the storm.

     And it wasn't the first time Maera had sought tranquility with Helaena after a disastrous day. The serene comfort of her sister had become her quiet escape. But, of course, as if to deepen her woes, Alicent soon joined their peaceful session.

         When the door creaked open, the fragile stillness shattered like glass. Maera, sensing the presence before even seeing it, immediately stood, her body tense. Without a word, she moved to a nearby couch, retreating into its cushions as if they could shield her from what was to come.

     Alicent entered, each step deliberate. She counted her own footsteps, the sound filling the room's once peaceful silence. She allowed Maera to scurry away first, giving her daughter space to slip from her grasp, before slowly making her way toward her other daughter. The distance between them was more than just physical, and each step Alicent took felt like crossing a rift she could never quite bridge.

     Helaena didn't spare her mother a glance, her gaze firmly fixed on the centipede crawling delicately across her palm. Maera, on the other hand, felt the tension thicken in the air. She plopped down on the sofa, feigning indifference as she rifled through the pages of her book, pretending not to feel as if one of Helaena's roaches wasn't crawling over her skin.

     The once soothing silence had turned suffocating, now a source of frustration rather than peace. Maera tried to focus on the letters before her, but it was like trying to drink from an empty bottle—nothing quenched her growing unease. Alicent stood there, her posture rigid, words unsaid but heavy in the room. She acted as if Maera were nothing more than a piece of furniture, another speck of dust to be ignored. Their earlier argument still simmered beneath the surface, bruising their minds, and the distance between them felt impossible to close.

        In truth, the magnetic pull between Alicent and Maera was too strong to ignore. It was only a matter of time before the tension eased, and they began acting civil again, as if nothing had ever happened.

     It was a familiar dance—simple, predictable. Eventually, they would find a middle ground, their stubborn wills bending just enough. They would agree on similar terms, coincidentally aligned on certain matters, and before long, they'd be standing on the same side, unspoken alliances forming as their arguments faded like whispers in the wind. They would pretend the hurtful words had never been said, their fractured bond mended, if only temporarily.

   — And when they fought again, as they inevitably would, the volcano of pent-up anger and bottled resentment only grew taller, its shadow stretching ever further between them. Each new argument merely added another layer to the unspoken bitterness, the unresolved emotions they kept burying beneath their fleeting moments of peace. What  bubbled quietly in their silence would one day erupt, leaving the scars of their tension deeper than before; burning, hot, destructive.