OF BASTARDS & DRAGONS || Aenar Targaryen [1]

103 • LOVER'S QUARREL

It was a long and arduous journey, and one that Queen Alicent had assumed that she wouldn't be making again for quite some time. When she'd originally travelled to DragonStone, she'd envisaged that it was a one-way trip.

She'd turned her back on King's Landing, content with the fact that she would never return. Those poisoned walls could take up a firm place in her past and she would be happy about. The act of running away usually implied that you didn't retrace your steps.

The raven had arrived with little warning and when Maester Geradlys had come to visit her shortly afterwards, Alicent had assumed the worst. She'd taken the note with shaky hands, imagining the fearful words that would announce Aenar's death.

What if they'd been too confident? What if Otto had come up with a cunning plan? What if her husband had been slaughtered at the very height of his powers, and now Alicent was being made to face the same fate?

She needn't have worried, though the panic still formed a deep knot in her stomach. The missive shared that they'd tasted success in the capital, but contained very little information besides that top line.

If it hadn't been for the familiar curls of Aenar's handwriting, Alicent might have seen it as a trap. But the urgency of the instruction, practically demanding her presence in the Keep, forced her into action. She thought of what they'd last discussed, and Alicent grew excited, as if Aenar was now in a rush to share that confession.

By the day's end, she came to the shores of the Blackwater, greeted by a man in armour, so very life how she'd recently parted. Alicent didn't know what she'd envisaged King's Landing to look like under the new rule, as if it would have changed significantly within a few hours.

Perhaps she'd though it would be brighter or sound more joyous, but it carried the same atmosphere all the same. There was an air of uncertainty conveyed by the people of the city, which explained why so many of them skirted away from their attention.

King Aenar was on his own when Alicent strode into the main hall of the Keep, dressed in Green, sitting upon the Iron Throne at long last. With the crown of Viserys atop his head, he cut a truly magnificent figure, and there could be no doubt that she belonged in that position.

Strangely enough, Alicent's breath caught in her throat at the sight, like she was taken aback by the power Aenar was exuding. Or perhaps it had something to do with the coldness with which he was looking at her from the iron chair.

"Otto Hightower has fled the capital to Dorne." Aenar began. "Did you tell them?" Aenar asked.

Alicent froze, frowning at the question. "Tell who, husband? And tell them what?"

Cersei hissed. "snakes will always shed their skin."

Alicent shot the woman a glare.

It was evidently not the response that the King was looking for, since she was quickly and deftly moving from the throne to meet Alicent halfway.

The steps were taken swiftly and furiously, but Alicent made sure to hold her own. Aenar only came to a stop mere inches from his third wife, the fire in his gaze being the thing that gave Alicent pause. Perhaps she'd been foolish to see this as a happy reunion. Perhaps more was in play than she'd first realized.

"Your father and the other Green Councils had already departed the city by the time we arrived. I'll ask you once more…did you tell them about our plans? Did you give them fair warning, in a desperate act to save the lives of your sons?"