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House of the Dragon characters x Sick!Reader
Alicent makes sure you have everything that you need & that you're comfortable.
She'll tuck you into bed when it's time for you to sleep, fluff out your pillows, and feeds you herself.
She prays every night & makes her children pray before every meal to wish you a quick recovery.
Alicent would rather no one visits you while your sick - especially Rhaenyra - because she doesn't want anyone to disturb you or for the sickness to spread.
Helaena likes to sit next to your bed and embroider, comfortable listening to your breathing while you rest.
She'll embroider a bug that reminds her of you in hopes to make you feel better.
When she can't visit you, she'll leave one of her bug friends to keep you company :)
Aegon can't stay away from you even when your sick.
He doesn't care if he also catches your fever.
He'll sleep on the same bed as you & try to cuddle with you, even when you tell him not to, worried that he'll also get sick.
Alicent has kicked him out of your chambers multiple times, scolding him not to bother you.
Aemond likes to read to you. Preferably stories about his Targaryen Ancestors.
He'd sit next to your bed while you sleep, so he can make sure nothing will happen to you during the night. One of the candles will be left lit so he can read one of his history books.
If you refuse to take your medicine the maester had given you, Aemond bribes you with rides on Vhagar.
Rhaenyra & Daemon usually visit you together.
Daemon will sit in a chair close to your bed, while Rhaenyra sits on the bed.
Rhaenyra will tell tell you about the gossip she's heard in court while Daemon brushes your hair off of your sweaty forehead - he keeps it there almost the whole visit.
They'd both get really stressed if you weren't getting better - but worse.
Especially Daemon after what's happened with his brother.
Daemon will threaten the maester. If the maester can't help you get better, he'll find someone who will.
Rhaenyra is more patient and will try calm Daemon down.
House of the Dragon Masterlist
Rhaenyra Targaryen Masterlist
Daemon Targaryen Masterlist
Aemond Targaryen Masterlist
Aegon ii Targaryen Masterlist
Miscellaneous:
One-Shots
Hands on Me (Benjicot Blackwood x Reader x Aeron Bracken)
Drabbles
Ten Minutes (Jacaerys Velaryon x reader)
Incorrect Quotes
House of the Dragon Incorrect Quotes
House of the Dragon Incorrect Quotes 2
summary: Alicent has always loved her youngest daughter most. Too much, perhaps. — This is intended to focus on the relationship between Alicent and daughter!reader but will eventually dive into some Jace x reader (maybe some Baela x reader too idk yet) and platonic!yan green family in the following parts.
cw: codependent mother-daughter relationship, mentions of childbirth, pregnancy, alicent is on some weird shit about her favorite child, platonic!yan!alicent
notes: reader is said to resemble alicent, as in her hair and eye color.
word count: 2.7k
When Queen Alicent ended her labors, exhausted, delirious and filled with an anticipatory dread she’d come to know was unavoidable; she heard the maester say, “a healthy princess, my queen.” She had grimaced then as the child’s cries filled the air but the babe was pushed into her limp arms which almost refused her. There, laid upon her breast, was her daughter…with features so like hers. It felt unreal, she had been prepared to bear another princeling with a smattering of fuzzy silver hair to form his crown. To remind her of whom their sire was. But as you laid against her, cooing irritably at the noise in the room and squinting at her with those eyes she knew so well, she fell in love. Weakly, in her milk of the poppy haze, she thought on the moments of her pregnancy where she’d felt so uncomfortable, so ready for the babe to leave and return her body to her. It could be said that in that moment it was the rush of hormones and the dregs of milk of the poppy still ravaging her system but suddenly, regretted those feelings sorely. No, she should have cherished the time when you were safely tucked away for herself. When you were more hers than you’d ever be again.
She held onto that for years. The ache of separateness she’d never felt for any one of her children before. The love for her other children had always come so late in comparison. With you, it was so easy.
Until it wasn’t so. You hadn’t yet flowered but you’d grown so fast. The ache intensified, the stirring need to have you back where you belonged, closer to her heart — very nearly killed her every time she saw you. Even so, she would still rather be with you than your siblings. She couldn’t be with you as much as she had when you were but a babe and she could take you anywhere in her arms without scrutiny. She was preoccupied with the needs and antics of your elder siblings who always seemed to be in need of something they could not or otherwise would not give themselves. It was exhausting. The ache was a reprieve in itself from the monumental exhaustion of dealing with your, though beloved to be sure, very high maintenance siblings. It was pleasant. Everything about being a mother was as tender as a wound, it could never be wholly pleasant. But there was something so addictive in it when it was you. She never felt so close to the Mother as when she held you.
In your chambers just after you’ve bathed and dressed in your nightgown, she arrived at the side of your bed to kiss your forehead gently, a gesture reserved for you. “Tell me what you’ve learned from your Septa today,” she softly instructed, stroking your hair. It has gotten so long, so soft and so lovely to twirl about her fingers. It’s a habit she developed. “Did you practice your letters?”
You nodded, looking up at her. “Yes, she says I’ve gotten much better.”
“Good job,” she praised, a soft smile on her lips. “Perhaps I don't have to read to you nearly as much now.” A lie. She'd read to you until the end of the world, even if you no longer needed her to, so long as she can be near you. Her eyes slipped shut momentarily, a quiet sigh escaping her lips as her hands continued to stroke your hair in a lulling rhythm.
You pouted slightly, in a way she might've reprimanded you for, had you been your elder sister. "But I like you reading to me."
You feel her arms wrap around you, folding you into her embrace, unable to resist. “Would you like me to read now?” she murmurs, kissing the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your freshly washed, still slightly dampened hair.
"Yes, please." So pleasing and charming you were when you said it. Oh, she could hardly get your siblings to simply mutter the words meaninglessly!
"Very well," she said softly, but the warmth in her voice made it more than a simple 'yes', her other children would never know she could offer anything but a resigned, "here" that came with an exasperated sigh. She settled in next to you.
"What shall it be tonight?" She asked, her thumb stroking your cheek, her voice holding a level of patience that could only come from the love she has for you. "The Seven Pointed Star?" You hummed your assent.
She opened the tome, her eyes scanning the words for a moment before she begins.
"The Seven Who Are One…" Your mother's voice sung out in a soft lilt, the words soft, the pace measured and gentle. As she speaks you feel yourself relaxing, and falling deeper into her embrace. You could lose yourself with her. Your eyes closed as she read on. Her words fell into a rhythm and her voice carries a soothing tune. You feel drawn inward. The world is just you and your mother.
Alas, she’d had to leave you after you fell asleep, to check on her other, more tumultuous children. It was a mournful fact that because you were her youngest and regardless of being her most beloved, she was still forced to give less of her time to you. But she returned before you woke and when you opened your eyes, your mother was there sitting beside you in your bed. “Good morning, sweetling.” she said, and she snuggled you in her arms, just holding you. She gazed at you, studying your face. “You slept for a while, it is already late morning, I wasn’t sure if you would wake.”
“Good morning.” You rubbed at your tired eyes. “I slept deeply, I suppose…” you muttered.
Alicent knew this. Of course she did, she was watching you for a while. “You've always slept heavily. Even as a babe, you would fall sound asleep with just a bit of rocking.” A small smile curled at her lips, her voice soft and motherly. “I used to worry that you’d never awaken, when you were a babe. I could never tell the difference between your sleeping and your death.”
That earned her a small, dreamy smile from your lips. “You were fussing over me even then?”
Her ensuing laughter was rich, and her eyes crinkling at the edges. “Oh, my sweetling, of course I was.” Her tone grew more serious then, and she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I worried for you every single day.”
“You worry now.”
“I know. And I know you think me foolish, but I do.” Her voice held the weight of her heart, the weight of years of anxiety. She strokes your hair, her hands gentle as they run through your locks. “I know you're nearly a woman grown, but I cannot help it. You are my daughter, my youngest. My little one.”
“I would not wish to leave your side,” you tried to assure her.
She sighed. “I would be wroth to see you ever leave my side. I cannot stomach it.” She kisses the top of your head. “I don’t know how I will do it if you are wed outside of our house. I feel my heart break just thinking of it.”
“Mine as well.” It was true, you truly could not imagine being away from your mother’s side. You did not particularly desire either of your silly elder brothers but the idea of marrying them held a certain comfort as it meant you’d get to stay with your mother. You were certain to die if you had to leave her behind.
“They tell me not to dote upon you, and to prepare you for life. But I can only see you as my child. I suppose I will forever.” She looked at you with a somewhat haunted expression, and her hand moved to cup your cheek.
“I enjoy you doting on me. Your company is a comfort.”
"I am glad," she smiled, her fingers threading through your hair. "When I'm not around, I worry that the world will be harsh to you, that it will swallow you whole and break you. I did not have…my mother with me when I left my home for good. But you have me. You are mine, and I wish to keep you safe."
She bit her lip before continuing. “I would have kept you in my womb until we turned to dust, would that I could. I know it is foolish but I miss it terribly. There we had nothing to fear. I protected you from the outside. You lived in a realm of safety, of comfort. No one could ever touch you there. No one could ever hurt you."
The concept intrigued you. The life you led, of scrutiny and pending obligation, could leave you feeling so exposed, a wound open to the air. “The world is much too loud now that I’m in it. I do miss being so close to you.” You obviously couldn't remember, not like she did, but you could imagine. You could imagine yourself curled into her, held by her, never needing anything but that...and the thought was an enticing one.
“I miss it more,” Alicent whispers. Tears welled in her eyes. “I know it is foolish of me, but when I see a woman with a child in her belly, I cannot help but be reminded of you, I cannot help but envy her.” Her voice was sullen, her gazed fixed on you. “I miss those kicks against my womb, and I miss the way you would curl into yourself. I wish I could bring us back.” Revising history is something the queen has gotten quite good at doing, she cannot recall— or at least won’t admit to, those same feelings of helplessness, lethargy and slight dissociation that had returned with each pregnancy. All of it has been replaced, memories tinged in the feeling of yearning she carries now.
“It would be just us two,” you whispered, your chest tightening slightly with an unfortunate longing to return to her.
"Forever. That would have been a very good life, my sweetling. A peaceful one." A tear trickled down her cheek, this time, though, she did not even try to wipe it away. You reached out to wipe her tear away, delicately with your thumb and the gesture was so soft, she thinks. Softer than any touch she had ever felt. It overwhelmed her to the point of trembling.
“Thank you.” Her voice was slightly raspy. You are truly beautiful to her in the candlelight, and even though you are a girl almost grown, she still sees you as the babe you were when you were first pushed into her arms, so many nights ago. “You have a very soft touch."
“Of course, I learned from you,” you said easily and Alicent had to look closely at your expression to be certain you aren’t just being jovial at her expense. But she was relieved and vaguely ashamed to find that you are entirely sincere without a hint of irony in all of your being.
She was speechless for a moment. Alicent was no longer gentle, she didn’t think she had that in her anymore. Her whole being felt sharp, ready to bleed. Even with her own children, she was seldom the mother she’d have imagined herself to be before she was married, especially with Aegon who she so struggled to even want to be gentle with. She’d forgotten that all the gentleness she possessed was not lost but had simply been redirected into you. It shamed her, it relieved her.
She decided that it was true, even if later she’d be deep her self loathing and rebuke the notion. For now, your softness was owed to the kind of mother she’d been to you. “That is true.” She laughed softly, feeling the high of your praise overwhelm her wariness. Her hands returned to playing in your hair, wafting the scent of soap and the warm musk of your skin toward her. Oh, that scent…When she come to visit your chambers just after you left them, she’d smell your pillows, your sheets, unable to help herself. It always unlocked some beastly sort of satisfaction inside her. She had even saved a little gown of yours from when you were a babe, unwilling to part with the scent of your skin. Back then, she’d attributed it to you being so young, to the bodily mysteries of a mother still fresh from labor but it had lingered. “You have such a sweet smell, my girl. I have always loved your scent.”
“I know. My handmaid told me you used to smell me a lot when I was a babe.”
So her strangeness had not gone unnoticed. “That I did. The smell of your sweet skin…” You could tell she got lost in a memory for a bit, and her face grew nostalgic. “I loved your scent so much. There was nothing like it.”
“Every day, I would smell your skin. I would kiss your cheeks and your little fingers…” Her words trailed off as she smiled, remembering. “You still have the same scent now. I would know it anywhere.”
“You were enamored with me,” you said, grinning as you stretched out in bed like a lazy cat.
She laughed softly. “I really was. You were a beautiful babe, so perfect and delicate in my eyes. I never wanted to let you out of my sight.” She remembered her father admonishing her for refusing to leave you with the maids, her near in tears trying to make him understand that this was different and him simply not willing to understand how the love of a fourth child, a girl, could have driven his daughter so utterly mad.
“I know. Grandsire says you took me everywhere with you.”
“That I did,” she confirmed, sighing softly. “I did not want anyone else to hold you.”
“Why not?” You had yet to truly address the severity of your mother’s preoccupation with you. To you, it was only love. You could not understand its implications or its logic.
“Because I did not trust anyone else with you.” She whispered. “I could not bear the thought of even leaving you with a maid, not for long anyway. You are my child, and I did not want anyone but me to care for you or see to your needs.”
“Oh, but it must have been such work!”
“All children are work, a lot of it,” she insisted. “But you were— you are a good kind of work. You gave me something to focus on besides all my other obligations. You were my little princess, always with me, and always wanting my attention. It was tiring, but I would not have had it any other way.” You made her feel the kind of love her first chance at motherhood should have brought her. You made her feel like a mother in the way the gods intended.
“That is very sweet.” It was more than sweet. It warmed your heart to hear from your mother that the work she has put into raising you, into keeping you — she saw it all as worth the trouble.
“It’s the truth. I have never loved anything more than you.”
“I’m glad for it. Glad to be deserving of it.”
Oh, your sweet little heart! Her hand cupped your face, and her fingers stroked your soft, delicate cheek, her eyes meeting yours. “You are far greater than deserving. You were perfect when you arrived, and you only became more beautiful as you grew older.”
You looked down, slightly bashful. “You’re beautiful too, mother.”
Your words bring on the fiercest of longing. Tears of joy and perhaps bitterness trickled from her eyes. "You are the sweetest daughter a mother could ask for. I love you so very much."
She is near breaking into a fit of sobs, breathing deeply to calm herself, blinking away her tears before she speaks again. "Sometimes I wish I could turn back time, and have those days again. The days where we could be wrapped up in each other, and the world was just us two."
And as your eyes light at the words, she cannot resist anymore. She brings you into her arms, your head resting against her breasts and her leaning down to kiss your head, breathing in your smell yet again. In a few years at latest, she’d wed you to one of your brothers and keep you safe within her watch. Then everything would be alright, you’d be safe only when there was promise you could stay with her forever.
“No matter,” she murmured against your hair, trying to soothe herself back into dignity. “Mother will protect you even now.”
— BEDROOM HYMNS
PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Queen Alicent Hightower x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — Your sister-in-law wishes for you to become one of her ladies-in-waiting but you become so much more. Things complicate when your husband comes to visit.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — The title is from Florence + The Machine song. Alicent is a lesbian in this fic but she's also very conflicted about it. Reader is 100% bisexual. I wanted to write this fic for some time now because I have a crush on Alicent ever since Season One so yeah... Here we go... 😩😈
WARNINGS — cheating, homosexuality seen as something *wrong* (by Alicent), mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut – tiiiiny bit in the beginning)
WORD COUNT — 6,240
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
You moved away from between her trembling legs after a cry of pleasure muffled by her own hand that she had covered her mouth with. Alicent’s juices were dripping down your chin when you smirked at her and looked up to meet her big brown eyes. Those soft big brown eyes that you adored more than anything. You had always adored them. So full of sadness and softness and you had never wanted anything but to make her feel better.
“Have I pleased you?” You asked while peppering her soft inner thighs with your kisses although you knew the answer already. Her husband had no idea how to please her.
The Queen only nodded and looked away. Poor Alicent – she always felt bad and guilty after the peak had already been reached. The sudden realisation of her sin was soul-crushing but the tension and desire had been too great to ignore them. She deserved the relief and you did not see anything bad about it.
“How many times do we have to do this?” You sighed and lied next to her in her bed. Your fingertips caressed her sides and your lips attached themselves to the crook of her neck, smelling all the scented oils in her hair. She was The Queen of the Realm and she was pampered like no other Lady. “There is no shame in this.”
“There is a sin,” Alicent turned her head around to finally meet your gaze. She raised her hand to nervously play with the seven-pointed star pendant on her sweaty chest.
“Why?” You bit on your lip and caressed her auburn locks out of her face.
“It is betrayal,” she frowned as if she was getting frustrated with your lack of understanding.
“It would have been if you lied with a man,” you explained and kissed her cheek before laying on your back and staring at the ceiling.
“I should find your vague idea of morality perplexing,” Alicent pointed out and you couldn’t help but chuckle at her confession.
“But you do not and thank Gods for that,” you rolled your eyes with a smirk.
A silence occurred as Alicent kept playing nervously with the pendant between her fingers and you were staring at the ceiling and counting all the cracks.
“What kind of husband is my brother?” She asked suddenly and you turned your head around to look at her again.
“A good one,” you admitted, feeling nearly guilty for that because you knew why she was asking – her husband was not good. Not to her and not to her children.
“Why are you doing this then?” Alicent asked.
It was obvious why her brother was on her mind now. He would arrive at King's Landing any day now. You couldn’t wait to see Gwayne again after a few months of being apart and you only wished he had taken your son with him but he could not. Robyn was the eldest son and he was supposed to stay in Oldtown. He had just become a squire and leaving his knight for a few long weeks would not be advised, therefore you had to go on missing your boy. Day after day as if he was a burning hole in your chest. Mothers would always miss their sons, you assumed.
“To kill the time,” you shrugged your arms, not wanting to reveal how much Alicent meant to you and for how long. “And to help you. You are my friend and I love you,” you confessed.
Alicent always loved Princess Rhaenyra more. Your father was a Master of Coin in King Viserys’ Small Council and you were growing up together – three girls running around happily. Or rather – two girls following the Princess like two overjoyed puppies. Rhaenyra was the centre of everything for you and not only because she was the Princess but also because she meant everything to Alicent. No matter how much effort you were putting into making Alicent like you more, you were destined to fail for she always was choosing Rhaenyra over you.
It made you grow bitter towards The Princess but never towards Alicent. You were blaming yourself – you had to become more and try harder perhaps and maybe then you’d earn more than just leftover crumbs of her love and friendship.
You couldn’t understand your feelings back then – why was the attraction so strong, what was making you feel so attached to the young Hightower Lady. You were the same age and yet everything she said was like a command to you. Wherever she went, you followed. Even when you felt like a burden because she so clearly would rather be left alone with Rhaenyra. But Rhaenyra never minded your presence because to her you were only a pawn on the board, an ornament, an addition of no importance. So, you often witnessed the two girls laughing together, whispering, exchanging small gestures of affection. You were only watching. Observing as your heart ached.
During The Heir's Tournament you met Ser Gwayne Hightower, Alicent’s older brother. He was young then, eager to show off his abilities and make his family proud. Perhaps he did not have his sister’s big brown eyes but he had the auburn hair you loved so much about her and he had her softness about him. You were enamoured with him in no time and when he approached the royal box to greet his sister – he caught your eye and you caught his and for that moment when your eyes met, you felt butterflies all over your body.
Ser Gwayne Hightower received your favour on that day and the sparkles of joy in your eyes while you were throwing the wreath at him were very obvious to your father and to his as well. You could not know that then but they exchanged meaningful looks for a short moment.
Even though Gwayne lost the duel with Prince Daemon Targaryen, he did not lose your affection. In fact, witnessing him nearly winning and losing only because Prince Daemon chose to play dirty – it only solidified your feelings. Ser Gwayne was a righteous man, a chivalrous knight and a brave one, too. It took lots of courage to face Prince Daemon Targaryen himself.
Gwayne was carried away with his face covered in blood and dirt while his mind was filled with thoughts of you – of losing your favour and your interest. However, you hurried to his side right after the tournament ended to make sure he was fine. And at the sight of you – he truly was fine again.
You were only ten and five but you knew already that Ser Gwayne was the only man you could see yourself being married off to. Thankfully, your father saw that, too. Two years later you were sent to Oldtown and for the whole time in between you were exchanging letters. When Alicent was married off to King Viserys shortly after his wife’s death, you still felt bitter but not as much as you could because you mostly felt excited about your own upcoming wedding.
However, the sadness and anxiety on Alicent’s face on her wedding day were a sight you would never forget.
Years and years of the happy marriage had passed and you were still in touch with your sister-in-law because of the letters you were exchanging and her son that you and Gwayne were raising in Oldtown – Prince Daeron Targaryen. But other than that, you had your own life now to live, your own duties, your own offspring and Alicent was simply not occupying your mind as much as in your adolescent years.
You were aware of King Viserys’ health getting worse and worse as Alicent was ruling the Kingdom in his name. The burden of responsibility was heavy and her marriage was getting more and more difficult. You couldn’t say the same of your own union – you loved Gwayne and he loved you. Just like every married couple you had your misunderstandings and disagreements but you were grateful for him every day of your life and you knew well that he felt the same towards you.
It was after breakfast on one of those days that seemed to be pretty typical in the morning and then they turned out to be life-changing for a person. Without a warning and without an ominous feeling deep in one’s gut, they just happened and changed lives.
A letter came to you from Queen Alicent and you expected nothing of great importance in it so you put it below the pile of letters you had to respond to this morning. You sat by your desk and dipped the feather in the black ink as you started to perform one of your duties as Lady Hightower, helping your husband to run Oldtown in his father’s name.
Letter after letter, until finally you were left with the last one. You opened it with a small yawn, which turned into a frown after reading Alicent’s plea and request.
“What is it?” Gwayne entered your chambers this very moment but his smile dropped at the sight of your face.
You folded the letter suddenly as if it was a secret or something dirty but it only increased your husband’s curiosity as he approached the table and raised an eyebrow at you.
“What is it?” He repeated the question and you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to find the right words.
“It is from your sister,” you replied and looked up to meet his confused gaze. He knew about your friendship and for you to react this way at one of Alicent’s letters was simply unusual.
“Is he dead?” Was all Gwayne asked.
“No, Gods, no,” you shook your head and took a deep breath in. “Not yet,” you added.
“What is it then?” Gwayne lifted your chin up gently to make sure your eyes would still be on his. You swallowed a lump in your throat and finally decided to tell him what his sister had requested.
“Queen Alicent wishes for me to become one of her ladies-in-waiting,” you revealed and Gwayne’s confusion only grew. “She feels lonely in King’s Landing, she needs a friend by her side. Somebody she can trust.”
“It is out of the question,” Gwayne took the folded paper from your hands and read the letter himself, still standing above you as you nervously fidgeted with your fingers.
Your own feelings were chaotic at that moment. Something in your heart wanted to run to King’s Landing at this very moment because Alicent needed you and because you wanted to make her life easier and make her happy. You had always wanted nothing but her happiness.
But you had your own duties in Oldtown and you had your husband here and your children. You could not just leave like that, could you? Especially when Oldtown was so far away from King’s Landing.
“It is out of the question,” Gwayne said again and threw the letter on your desk. “Reply to her that your Lord Husband does not agree.”
“She is your sister,” you looked up at him, pleadingly.
“Yes and I have nothing but love for her in my heart but her request is selfish,” he clenched his jaw as he looked you up and down, visibly surprised that you were not agreeing with him on this. “Why does she want to take you away from me? You are my wife.”
“Your wife – not your property,” you reminded him.
“That is debatable,” Gwayne huffed and looked away but before you could scold him, he continued with more. “Living in a different city, different castle, so far away from me… Will you still be my wife?” He turned his head around in an attempt to try to read your emotions.
“I will forever be your wife,” you stood up and took his hand into yours before placing it on your chest where your heart was. “But she needs me, Gwayne. She’s all alone there with no one by her side.”
“Father is with her,” Gwayne interrupted you. “He always favoured Alicent.”
“You do know that being favoured by him is a burden, not a prize,” you reminded. “Please, let me go. For some time at least. Until The King dies. It should not be for long and I’ll take the girls with me,” you tried to convince him as your fingers caressed his hand on your chest. “Please,” you whispered, looking up deep into his eyes.
After a long moment of silence and hesitation, your husband nodded his head reluctantly.
A few months later, you found yourself standing in the courtyard of The Red Keep, awaiting your husband’s arrival. He had a business to deal with in The Crownlands and he wanted to spend a few days with his family, too. You were caressing the creases on your dress with your hands and your teenage daughter Margaery was fixing her younger sister’s hairdo. Little Wyllow had been missing her father the most and she couldn’t wait for his arrival. In fact, she had made you and Margaery wait there since early morning and at this point you were exhausted already but you didn’t complain since you couldn’t wait to see Gwayne again either.
Even though it also felt a little weird and awkward since your mind was being flooded with memories of his sister’s body tangled with yours underneath her royal silk sheets. Her plump lips parted and soft moans escaping them, her beautiful big brown eyes hazy and filled with tears of shame and pleasure…
You were trying to shake those thoughts and images off of your head when you were interrupted by the sound of the horses approaching the gate.
“Father!” Wyllow nearly ran straight under the horse if she was not stopped by Margaery.
Your older daughter gave you a scolding look and she was right to do so because it was your duty to watch over your children, meanwhile you were distracted by the memories of dirty acts instead.
When you watched Gwayne jumping off of the horse, your heart clenched in your chest at the sight of him and you suddenly realised why Alicent was so filled with shame and guilt because now you felt them, too.
His handsome face, his eyes sparkling at the sight of you, his auburn hair reflecting in the sun… He truly was the man you loved. You just couldn’t help the fact you loved his sister, too.
“Father!” Wyllow finally was free to run into his arms and he crouched down to hug her and kiss her forehead.
“I am so happy to see you, little bird,” Gwayne cupped his daughter’s cheeks and she giggled.
He straightened himself but Wyllow clinged to his left hand so he used his right one to caress Margaery’s face lovingly.
“You’re growing fast, my love,” he pointed out.
“I am trying my best, Lord Father,” Margaery nodded her head with a smile and then she took a step back to get out of the way and let him greet you.
“Lord Husband,” you gave him a nervous and soft smile. Gwayne tilted his head a little and your heart skipped a beat. He was a very observant man but there was nothing that would give you away, right? What could it be?
“Lady Wife,” he smiled at you and took two steps ahead to be able to kiss the palm of your hand. Whatever he had noticed, he pretended it was nothing. At least for now.
“You must be exhausted,” you pointed out. “The chambers have been already prepared for you and I’m going to tell the maids to fix you a bath.”
“Does it mean we are not sharing the same chambers during my stay here?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow at you.
Margaery cleared her throat and she took Wyllow by her free hand.
“Shall we go inside now? Let our Lady Mother greet Lord Father properly,” she dragged her protesting sister behind her.
“She is becoming a fine Lady,” you chuckled awkwardly. “I can’t help feeling that the air and water in King’s Landing are making her grow up faster. Perhaps she is spending too much time with women older than her,” you explained, clasping your hands in front of yourself as if you had no idea what to do with them. “Come with me, I am sure you want to greet your father and sister, too.”
“I do,” Gwayne followed you inside while some of the men he had taken with him were taking care of his luggage with the help of The Red Keep’s servants. “You still haven’t answered my question about the chambers,” he pointed out when you were in the staircase together.
“My darling,” you turned around abruptly, making him stop his walk. “Your chambers are close to mine, please do not get cross with me. Those past few months I have learnt to love my solitude,” you explained and Gwayne tilted his head again but he only nodded.
“Let it be then,” he only said.
With each one of your husband’s kisses and each one of his touches, each one of your reached peaks and cries of pleasure, you felt more and more purified of sin as if his body was washing away Alicent’s smell off of you. After months of not laying together, you were lost in each other for hours with caring very little about getting any sleep. You were watching the sun rise behind the window when you were too exhausted to go on as you were laying on Gwayne’s chest, drawing circles there with your fingers and his hand was playing with your hair, gently massaging your scalp.
“Have you been faithful to me?” You asked casually and you could feel his muscles tensing under you.
You had no right to ask that – but he did not know of it.
“I have,” he answered. “Of course I have.”
“And if I say that the whores count, too?” You looked up playfully.
“I have been faithful to my Lady Wife,” Gwayne shook his head and you spotted a slight irritation on his face. He did not like it when his honour was being questioned – he was a knight, after all. “Why do you ask? Have you not been faithful to me?”
A shiver went down your spine at his chilling accusation.
“How can you ask me that?” You gasped.
“You have accused me first.”
“Because you are a man,” you reminded him.
“I am. And I know what men are like,” Gwayne nodded his head. “They must all be following you around – a beautiful Lady far away from her husband is like an invitation,” he finally cracked a smile, revealing that he was only jesting.
“I do not want any man but you,” you assured him as the tension left your body because you did not have to lie about it.
“That is good to know, my love,” Gwayne kissed the top of your head. “You had me worried with your cold greeting and not letting me into your chambers.”
“Are you not in my chambers now, Lord Husband?” You teased him and placed a kiss on his chest where his heart was. “And if my greeting was cold, then I owe you an apology. I spend too much time around your sister and her husband and I keep forgetting that some marriages are happy. That mine is…” You wanted to look up to meet his gaze but you couldn’t as something inside of you was stopping you.
“That is a shame,” Gwayne only said.
“It is, darling, but you are here now to remind me.”
You were sitting in the same chambers as Alicent, embroidering side by side and even though you were using no words, you found each other’s company comforting. Your arms were brushing as you both were focused on creating beautiful patterns on the same piece of fabric to make the work faster. It was supposed to be a beautiful green blanket with embroidered little dragons.
Princess Helaena was sitting nearby and embroidering spiders on her own piece of fabric. Her cousin, Lady Margaery Hightower was sitting next to her and teaching her younger sister the craft. It was peaceful, cosy and quiet – you loved those moments the most because it was nearly as if Alicent was your own Lady Wife and you were just enjoying the time spent together with your family, far away from all those loud and obnoxious men surrounding you everywhere. These chambers were your escape and your own queendom.
When the doors opened, everyone except for Helaena looked up with a slight irritation since the man entering this sanctuary was nothing but an intruder. Even if the man was Ser Gwayne Hightower, who was loved by every person inside the chambers.
He cleared his throat when you gave him a soft smile, your arm still brushing Alicent’s and you were sitting in a way that made sure you were facing each other. You had never thought about it before but it was quite intimate indeed. Your husband’s tilted head made you realise that he had just observed something and after a short while you understood what it was as you moved away slightly.
“Brother,” Alicent greeted him.
“Lord Husband,” you nodded at him.
“Forgive me for interrupting. I would like to take Margaery for a walk around the gardens,” he extended his hand towards his older daughter as Wyllow looked up at him with pleading eyes. “It must be Margaery alone this time but I promise you, little bird, I am going to take you for a walk later, too. Perhaps we’ll walk to the bay and watch the ships,” he assured her and she sighed with relief.
“You can finish without my help now, I believe,” Margaery handed the fabric to her younger sister. “Do try, at least. If you face any challenges, Lady Mother or Helaena shall help you.”
Helaena looked up when her name was mentioned and she gave Wyllow a soft smile that encouraged her little cousin to keep going. When Margaery stood up and left the sofa, Wyllow moved closer to Helaena and The Princess did not seem to mind.
“Can you help me with the ladybug?” She asked and Helaena’s face lit up at that.
“Lord Father,” Margaery took Gwayne by his arm and bowed her head at you and Alicent before walking out of the chambers with her father.
“I am wondering what is the matter my Lord Husband wishes to discuss with Margaery,” you hummed to yourself.
“She is ten and five now,” Queen Alicent pointed out. “What is the only possible matter that fathers wish to discuss with their daughters at that age?”
You furrowed your brows at her words because she was right and you did not like the sound of that. It was a shame that she was right, too, and not only for your own daughter but for every woman in this Realm.
You saw Gwayne again before dinner, on your way to the dining hall. He was walking down the stairs and you rushed to him to walk by his side. He offered you his arm and you took it.
“I have a question for you, Lord Husband,” you started, nearly aggressively and he raised his eyebrows at that fierceness.
“What is it, my love?”
“Are you planning to marry our sweet Margaery off so quickly? I do not wish for her to get wed too soon,” you told him, hoping he would understand your point of view because sadly, in the end, the decision was his to make for women had always been properties of men – once her father’s, then her husband’s.
Sometimes you wished you had become a septa.
“Not soon, no. But she is ten and five. That was the age you were in when we met,” Gwayne reminded you with a smile.
“Yes, indeed, my darling, but it was us both meeting and falling in love. That is different, you must admit,” you pursed your lips.
“I must, indeed. Do not worry, I am not willing to force anything upon our sweet daughter. I have only told her to start looking around for suitable matches… soon,” your husband explained. “I am sure King’s Landing is full of important young men.”
“I do not wish for her to get married here. This place is rotten and so are its people,” you sighed. “My greatest wish is for Margaery to marry a man from The Reach.”
“We all have wishes, my darling wife,” Gwayne’s answer was nearly mocking but he spotted your annoyance so he looked around to make sure you were not being seen before pulling you by your waist and pushing you against the wall to steal a kiss from your lips. “Gods, I missed this,” he whispered and you felt your cheeks heating up.
“Gwayne!” You scolded him playfully. “I missed this, too,” you added and caressed his cheek with your fingers.
But his smile dropped and eyes became serious all of the sudden. You stayed like that in a short moment of silence before he dropped the question that turned your guts inside out:
“What is the nature of your relationship with my sister?”
You were taken aback by his question and you moved your hand away from his face before taking a deep breath in, trying to steady your heartbeat.
“Alicent is my best friend,” you looked deep into his eyes, surprised by your own courage to lie like this…
But was it a lie? She was your friend, after all.
“There is intimacy between you two that I can only wish for between us these days,” Gwayne whispered and you bit on your lower lip.
“She is my main companion for weeks now,” you tried to explain.
“Are you still planning to come back home after The King dies?” Gwayne lowered his voice even more since talking about the monarch’s death could be seen as treason.
“Y-yes, of course,” you nodded nervously.
“Why the tremble of your voice?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow.
“What are you accusing me of?” You suddenly clenched your fists, trying to take another route of getting out of this awkward situation. “Your implications are indecent. You have been accusing me of obscenities ever since you arrived here. You wound me deeply, Lord Husband,” you straightened yourself.
“You have accused me first,” Gwayne reminded you.
“Without any reproach thrown at you. I have asked out of simple curiosity,” you informed him.
“You are right, do forgive me,” he reached for your hand to place a delicate kiss upon the palm of it. You sighed, feeling extremely guilty.
“You are forgiven,” you whispered, nearly inaudibly, because it felt wrong to be the one saying those words.
In fact, at that very moment, you promised yourself to fix everything. You promised yourself to invite Gwayne to your chambers again for the night and let his touch to purify you like on the previous night. And you would go to The Sept and you would pray the sin away, you would beg for forgiveness, you would be a better wife, perhaps you would beg Alicent to let you go back to Oldtown with your husband.
Yes, that was the plan.
In the early morning you couldn’t tell that you were well-rested. Your muscles were sore after the previous two nights and your head was hazy but you still got dressed up quickly when the sun was rising and creeping inside your chambers to shine upon Gwayne’s auburn hair. You leaned in to kiss his forehead and you left him sleeping to visit The Sept and be able to go back to The Red Keep before breakfast.
You had never been a devout but you were not a savage either. You believed in Gods and now more than ever you needed redemption.
You expected to be alone there at such an early hour but no – of course not. Queen Alicent was already there, kneeling by the stone table and lighting the candles. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. She was your greatest temptation and it was a cruel joke that the Gods had played on you to put her there at this time when you visited The Sept to pray her very own self away from your life.
Alicent looked up, surprised to see you. Her soft features were as sad as usual but at the sight of you she seemed to be a bit happier – relieved, in a way. Your heart clenched inside your chest. How could you ever want to leave her? You couldn’t. She was too dependent on you. Her happiness was and so was her sanity. Leaving her would be equal to killing her.
“I have not expected you in The Sept at such an early hour,” she commented as you kneeled next to her.
“I have not expected myself here either,” you smirked. “I came here to ask for forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness? Aren’t you always the one telling me that what we do is no sin?” Alicent furrowed her brows.
“I have lied to my husband. That is a sin,” you confessed and Alicent did not say anything to this. “I… I will have to go back to Oldtown, I think… I can’t… I can’t go on like this,” you looked down and Alicent remained silent but you didn’t have to look at her to know her big brown eyes were filled with tears. “I miss my son and I miss Oldtown… King’s Landing is corrupt and I do not wish for my daughters to grow up here. I… I miss Gwayne, too. I love him, I love him, I love him…”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Sudden, harsh question made you look up to meet her teary gaze.
“I’ve been loving him ever since I saw him during the tournament. You were there, sitting by my side,” you reminded her.
“You love him because he is my brother but your life has always revolved around me,” Alicent pointed out and you felt your cheeks heating up.
“You… You knew?” You only asked.
“I was blind to choose Rhaenyra because she was never for me to reach. She was The Princess and you were equal to me, so devoted. Blindly, very often. I took you for a fool and only after losing you, I realised. When you were sent to Oldtown, I suddenly understood that my only friend had left my side,” Alicent explained. “My only friend and the only person who has ever… Who has ever loved me – except for my mother.”
“Gwayne loves you, too,” you pointed out.
“Does he? He took you away from me,” Alicent’s jaw clenched and your eyes widened. She was not being rational but you knew why – she was scared of losing you again. In fact, she was determined to make you stay by her side.
“You will not let me leave, will you?” You whispered.
Alicent opened her mouth to say something but then her face softened and she stood up rapidly to walk away.
“I am sorry… I do not wish to… Act like this… I do not recognise myself,” she admitted with her voice full of shame. She raised her hands up to her mouth as she nervously bit on the soft skin around her fingernails.
You didn’t answer because you were too lost in your own thoughts. Was she right again? About you loving Gwayne only because he was her brother? You had never thought about it before. It would mean your whole marriage was a lie, an illusion – or rather a delusion.
“When I’m with him, I don’t imagine you,” you stood up as well when the realisation hit you. “But when I’m with you, he doesn’t exist to me. It’s as if there were two of me.”
“I do not understand,” Alicent shook her head. “To me, there is only you,” she confessed and laid her eyes on you.
You didn’t know what to answer. You swallowed a lump in your throat instead.
“I am flawed, poisoned…” Alicent continued. “I can only feel this way towards other women. I felt this way towards Rhaenyra until a certain moment and then… Then my whole life was about you. I have spent hours inside this Sept, trying to pray this away,” Alicent’s silent tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I do not have such a conflict. I can love both men and women,” you told her. “I can love you and I can love Gwayne…”
“I do not wish to share you!” Alicent interrupted you and then she hid her face in her hand as she sobbed.
“Women are not their own property. I am not the one to decide if I can be shared,” you answered diplomatically.
You felt sorry for her but you also felt sorry for Gwayne that he was being betrayed behind his back by his own wife and sister – two women he loved the most except for his daughters. He would die for you both, he would kill to protect you or to defend your honours – even though none of you had an honour anymore. He was the real victim here.
But one more look at Alicent’s sad eyes was enough to break you again. You approached her to cup her face and kiss her softly. She protested in the beginning since you were inside The Sept but you didn’t give a fuck about it anymore – you would go to Seven Hells anyway.
“I shall not leave you,” you promised her.
When you came back to your chambers, Gwayne was dressing up in front of the mirror. He raised an eyebrow at you entering the room.
“Where have you been?” He asked.
“In The Sept to pray,” you answered truthfully.
“Has my sister turned you into a devout like her already?” He chuckled.
“She has a great influence on me,” you nodded and walked up to him to kiss his cheek.
“You even smell like her,” he said and your heart skipped a beat.
“I am fond of her scented oils and she allows me to use them,” you answered.
“It feels weird when I’m fucking you, I have to admit,” Gwayne chuckled awkwardly and so did you.
“You shall fuck me more then,” you pointed out quietly.
“Even more, Lady Wife?” He shook his head with another chuckle.
“Until her scent is gone,” you explained and looked out of the window.
Gwayne did not say anything to this but his smile disappeared. From the corner of your eye you saw his reflection in the mirror and you realised that he had finally understood what was going on behind his back.
After a while, which felt like forever, he cleared his throat:
“It is a putrid place indeed.”
“You must take me far away from here,” you turned around to grab his arm and your heart broke when you felt him flinch a little. “You must save my soul and take me home,” you pleaded despite the promise you had given to Alicent earlier but that promise had not been given sober. You had been intoxicated with her.
“You must come back home yourself, my love,” Gwayne smiled sadly at you and caressed your hair gently, “for I do not wish to force anything upon you. You are always kind enough to remind me that you are not my property, aren't you? And I agree,” he nodded, “this decision is for you to make.”
And you didn’t know what to say or do because there was no decision that felt right and no decision that didn’t feel wrong either. Gwayne was your duty and your sacrifice and Alicent was a self-indulgent sin but you loved them both so much that you cursed the whole Hightower bloodline for existing because your life would be so much easier without them.
You knew what Gwayne was expecting of you – he expected you to choose your duty because – just like his sister – he was all about honour and decency. But you didn’t want your husband to feel as if you were choosing him only because of your marriage vows – you wanted him to know that you cared for him, too, even though he wouldn’t believe you now.
But there was only one choice for you anyway, wasn’t it? You couldn’t just stay with Alicent and pretend that it was the right thing to do. You couldn’t abandon your family and your duties for her and she had to understand it.
You looked deep into Gwayne’s eyes and your own filled with tears at the sight of all the pain and sadness in his. You dropped your hand down from his arm to intertwine your fingers with his.
“I do not think of myself as flawed or poisoned for feeling the way I feel,” you explained to him. “But I do not wish for my nature to spoil our union. If anybody can save me, it would be you,” you whispered. A plea. A desperate cry for help. “I am a mother, I am a wife, I am Lady Hightower and my home is in Oldtown.”
Your heart, however, would forever be divided; torn and bleeding. The deep, burning hole was forever to stay there for one reason or another.
MASTERLIST