Chapter Text
When Alicent peaks, she chews on her lips, refraining from screaming.
She trembles, experiencing her own earthquake, and she curls, fingers and toes, pleasure erupting in its liquid form between the apex on her thighs. It takes time for Alicent's body to warm up, it takes long kisses and caresses, but the Queen is always kind and patient, and when the fire starts, she is sure she’ll burn endlessly. Alicent mewls, fingers intertwining in the Queen’s silky hair, “Please, my Queen, oh, please…”
She’ll peak again if the Queen continues to lap at her sex.
But she always listens to Alicent, and soon she raises slowly, swollen lips glistening with arousal and release, and Alicent shudders another time, urging the alpha to meet her lips. Their kiss is wet and messy, tongues greedily dueling whilst Alicent’s leans and opens up more, not only ready but eager for what is about to come. She explores the Queen’s body with familiarity, hands wandering over the woman’s perky tit*, defined muscles, and oh so soft and sinful butt. She wraps one hand around the Queen’s hard shaft, being rewarded with a satisfied groan as her thumb rubs the leaking tip of her co*ck.
“Let me ride you, my Queen,” she whispers in her mouth, bucking her hips towards the Queen’s core. The blonde quickly nods, the mattress complaining under their weight as they turn suddenly, the Queen on her back while being straddled by her lover. Alicent deliberately spreads her rosy lips, hearing the Queen’s breath catch as she inserts a finger inside of herself. “Oh, f*ck…”
She loves the Queen, she loves the Queen more than anything else.
And she also is smart, she knows of her powers. She f*cks herself languidly, lewd wet sounds echoing in the room as she buries another finger in her cunny, stretching a little bit more before the final prize.
“I want you inside of me,” she says. “Filling me up.”
The Queen grabs her hips, fingers digging in the flesh.
“Will you fill me, my Queen?” she asks innocently.
“Oh, I will…”
“I feel so lonely when you are not around,” she laments, pulling her fingers out of her cunny and pushing them in her own mouth. She tastes herself, moaning, and the Queen swears in High Valyrian. “So lonely, but I cannot touch myself, it's so different without you. I can only think about you, hmm, remember the feeling of your co*ck, the taste of it… Oh, and imagine you breeding me, Gods I pray in the Sept everyday so I'll feel some relief… But still I'm so empty, it's not enough.”
Periwinkle eyes grow dark, glinting dangerously. She continues moving, hips dancing sensually, engorged cl*t bumping against the Queen's long co*ck.
Alicent cups her breasts, heavy and tender and aching for some attention… She giggles in delight when the Queen's hands replace her own, tugging her sore nipples in the sweetest cruelty. She whimpers wantonly then, holding the Queen's co*ck before impaling herself. The stretch is still painful, a difficult fit, and she sighs when her tight muscles finally give in, allowing the Queen to slip deep inside.
She moans, walls contracting and desire pooling in her belly, dripping and splashing in the Queen's navel.
The Queen purrs like a dragon, thrusting lazily. She is humming with satisfaction, and Alicent basks in the feeling, proud that after ten years the Queen's still c*nt-struck as the first time. She desires nothing more than to be the Queen's main interest, to be the first person she thinks of in the morning…
“Will you give me another heir?” dares the Queen.
Alicent smiles, rocking against the Queen, “I will, my Queen. Oh, I will…”
Another brunette boy, she daydreams, another beautiful alpha like Jacaerys. Or another charming blonde baby, like Aemond. Alicent supports herself on the Queen's chest, riding harder and faster.
Yes, yes, yes! The Queen will breed her again, one more time, and soon she'll be sporting a pregnant figure. She's the apple of the Queen's eye as are their children, and nothing will come between them…
The thought is more arousing than sex itself, and Alicent squeaks pathetically when crushed by a wave of pleasure.
“Gods, you love my co*ck, don't you?” the Queen guides Alicent's hips, moving both of them in a frenzied dance. “My good whor*, hmm, only mine.”
She'll be everything for Rhaenyra, there is no doubt. The degradation leaves a reddish hue on Alicent's neck, and more liquid pours out of her c*nt.
The Queen grumbles, and their position changes in a blink of an eye. Alicent throws one leg over Rhaenyra's shoulder, now unable to control any aspect of the situation. The pleasure is too much, and she is losing any composure. Rhaenyra bends Alicent like a sheet of paper, and with a series of strong strokes, Alicent is coming again.
She spasms, short nails leaving blood marks on Rhaenyra's back, and the Queen falters, co*ck pulsing. Alicent burns, depths being filled and warmed by short and continuous spurts of cum.
“Gods, I love you,” Rhaenyra nips at her sweaty neck. “I love you.”
Alicent draws indivisible circles on Rhaenyra's shoulder blades, grinning in silence.
Their children will be Princes, not bastards.
⁂⁂⁂
“Oh, he is lovely!” Alicent watches as Laena Velaryon, the Wife, holds Lucerys. He's peacefully napping after being nursed by Alicent. She sits in the armchair, folding her hands. “And so quiet, but your babies are always well-behaved. Gorgeous boy,” she touches his face with fingertips.
Lucerys was born on a cold night twelve weeks ago. The pregnancy was healthy, although tiring, and he was born without a fuss as were his brothers. Rhaenyra was at Alicent’s side, holding her hand, and she named the boy as soon as he gulped air for the first time.
“Soon you’ll bear a child,” Alicent's lips curve in a well-practiced smile. “An heir to the Queen, I’m sure.”
“I would be the happiest woman,” Laena agrees, eyes drowned in tears. One lonely teardrop falls, tickling on Lucerys’s cheek. “Oh, I apologize, my dear boy,” she wipes his face with her thumb.
Alicent crosses the room, one hand squeezing Laena’s shoulder in a reassuring manner. She leans, craving Alicent’s touch, “Come, my friend. I’ll make us some tea.”
Laena lays Lucerys in his crib.
Alicent stirs the boiling water in the teapot, chamomile with sugar, and a good measure of pennyroyal for extra sweetness. Of course, Laena is unaware of the secret ingredient. She only knows Alicent is the most lovely woman, a sister. A loyal concubine to the Queen and to the Realm.
“Thank you,” Laena sips some tea.
Tea time is a routine in their lives. Everyday Alicent and Laena come together in the garden, or in the nursery, or even in the Wife’s chambers, and enjoy the afternoon with a hot beverage and some biscuits. They share stories, rumors, feelings, and emotions. Sometimes they read, sometimes they pray, and sometimes they f*ck.
The Queen is generous, and she wants their companions to be happy.
Sometimes she watches, sometimes she joins them.
And Alicent, although slave to desire, also understands the importance of keeping the Velaryon lady sated. Of course, many things are kept only in her mind, quiet to the outside world. Laena Velaryon is perfect, and the first time Alicent observed the lady she felt a heady mix of hatred and lust, heart palpitating and small clothes ruined.
But she learned to love Laena in her own way.
Pregnancy is not for all women, after all. Queen Aemma Arryn died in the birthing bed, and Alicent believes she is being generous to spare Laena of such danger. The Wife would never understand, of course. She would be enraged, and hurt, but Alicent cares for her nonetheless…
Children of the Queen’s concubine can only rise to the Iron Throne under the absence of primordial heirs. It’s the concubine function to provide spare children to the Realm, boys and girls in case the alpha is paired with a barren omega. So Alicent faces the challenges of motherhood with the gratifying feeling of purpose, of meaningfulness. One day, Jacaerys or Aemond shall be the King, and the darling lady Velaryon will never suffer the pains of womanhood.
And it’s fair, Alicent is sure.
She is older, even older than the Queen, and they have been lovers since the alpha first presented at 19 years old. A late bloomer, but a strong alpha. When the Queen, yet a Princess, wedded Laena Velaryon, Alicent was round with child.
It has been twelve years of utter care and devotion. Alicent is clever, “It was not my intention to cause you pain,” she hugs Laena.
“Oh, I know,” Laena sniffs, body melting against Alicent. “It's alright, my dear Alicent. I always feel emotional when another baby arrives,” she hides her face in Alicent's neck. “They are always so beautiful, and I love them as if they were mine.”
“They are ours,” promises Alicent. It is a lie, but a needed one. Laena feels safe, and Alicent feels calm. “Oh, sometimes I think Jacaerys loves you more than he loves Rhaenyra!”
She snorts a laugh.
“Well, maybe if I were an alpha…” now Laena's eyes gleam with mischief, she licks her own lips. She inhales Alicent's smell, the dazzling hormones of a new mother. “You always look so beautiful…” she licks over the glands in Alicent's neck. “So delectable…”
Alicent's mouth hangs open, a pleasurable sound escaping pouty lips. “I miss our moments…”
And so does Alicent. Feelings and emotions are complicated, but the logistics of physical attraction are easy. Alicent takes equal pleasure riding the Queen and fingerf*cking the Wife.
“Oh, let's finish our tea first!” Alicent dodges from Laena, gulping the tea.
“Gods, you and your tea,” Laena rolls her eyes but concedes, returning to her own cup.
“I'm a creature of habits,” she shrugs nonchalantly. “And it's part of our moment to have simple pleasures such as drinking tea.”
The tea is an important key, and more than essential now as Alicent is still sore from birth. But she analyzes Laena's slumped down, tired as if she were the one who birthed a child, and it's obvious Rhaenyra is not paying her any visits.
“Have you and Rhaenyra…” her voice fades away, the suggestion hanging in the air.
“Oh, no,” she stuffs her mouth with a biscuit. “You would think she would be struck with desire having only one lover to sate her needs, yet she drifts away. She's constantly worried about the baby.”
“Oh, the baby is fine!” she gestures to the chubby baby boy snoring. “He sleeps like a stone, like his sire.”
“Thank the Gods he’s healthy,” Laena finishes the content on her cup.
When their little ritual is over, Alicent holds Laena close one more time. Their lips lock, a continuous provocation between tongues and teeth. Together the two stumble inside the adjacent room, where Alicent's bed is. Their kisses continue, and Laena moans when Alicent vulgarly sucks her tongue.
“I don't think I'm quite ready,” Alicent admits. Laena blinks slowly, out of breath. “But I would love to pleasure you. Will you allow me?”
“Yes, please,” hastily Laena undresses herself, laying naked on bed. Alicent feels every curve of her body, and then latches on a sensitive nipple as she toys with the other. Laena is tall and slender, and her skin is dark brown. She is more than attractive, she is divine, and Alicent enjoys kissing every inch of her skin. But today she's impatient, needy, and soon she is humping Alicent's clothed thigh.
“Should I use my fingers, or my tongue?” Alicent superficially bites the hard nub on her breasts, soothing the pain with a caress of her tongue.
Laena is sweating, face flushed, “Both.”
Alicent kneels near the footboard before opening Laena's legs.
There is moisture between Laena's folds, and her cl*t begs for attention.
Alicent eats her thoroughly. First kissing the sensitive skin of her thighs and navel, then slurping between those brownish pink folds. Whilst she sucks at Laena's cl*t, she plunges two fingers inside her cunny, curling them up until she finds the special spot that makes the woman cry and beg.
She speeds up as Laena's back arches from the mattress. She comes with a shaking breath, c*nt squeezing and squirting on Alicent's mouth. As Laena does with the tea, Alicent does not waste a drop.
“And once I've heard two omegas cannot have fun together,” she playfully slaps Laena's ass.
Laena chuckles, “Tell me when you feel comfortable again,” she murmurs, fingers skimming over Alicent's breasts. “I would love to return the favor.”
⁂⁂⁂
“You must not push the subject,” Alicent chastises her own father, the Lord Hand, months later when they meet at Maegor's Holdfast. Alicent is at the rocking chair, suckling a 9-month-old Lucerys. “The Queen listens to you, yet she is no fool. If you continue your demands…”
“Alicent!” he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “It's only the natural path: the Queen must name her successor. What will it be of the Realm if something happens to the Queen?”
“Gods be good, nothing will happen,” she shuddered. “Rhaenyra is strong, and healthy.”
“But one day she will not be,” he replies. “And then what? The Realm will fall on whose hands? And who will rule? Daemon Targaryen?”
Alicent stares at a brick in the wall, “Just give the Queen more time. She'll soon realize there is no alternative but to declare Jacaerys the rightful heir.”
“It's been twelve years, Alicent,” he argues. “How much time will you wait? Until Laena Velaryon bears a child?”
“She won't!” she hisses.
“She'll not be your plaything forever, Alicent,” there is a shadow of disgust in his eyes. “One day she'll connect the dots.”
Alicent's nose is in the air, “There is nothing to suspect.”
He takes a deep breath.
“You are not as smart as you think, daughter,” he shakes his head.
She scoffs.
“Please.”
“What?”
“I've been securing our claim more than you ever had,” she spits the words. “I am the one who climbed those damn ladders for the very first time. Targaryens never adopted the system of wives and concubines, yet here I am. I've bore three children, and the Wife none.”
Otto's jaw tenses.
“Forget the subject,” implores Alicent. “Rhaenyra is growing tired of you. What will be of me if I lose you? I have no allies but our little family, Father.”
He frowns.
“She is very fond of House Strong,” she comments. “Lord Lyonel might be unavailable right now but I'm sure Harwin Strong would be more than happy to be the Queen's hand.”
“Oh, she wouldn't…”
“She would,” she interrupts. “She only listens to me but neither can I keep you safe forever. Your patience might be wearing thin but the Queen's is thinner.”
Lucerys coos in Alicent's arms, and Otto turns his eyes. She cleans the boy's lips with a tissue, covers her breast and then gets up, walking around as she pats the baby's back.
“In a little Jacaerys will be man, and he shows the dispositions to present as an alpha,” Alicent combs Luke’s curly brown hair with her fingers. “The Queen adores the boy. And Lady Laena calls him ‘son’. He'll be Heir.”
⁂⁂⁂
“You shall be no Heir, but you shall be mine, Helaena Targaryen,” Alicent announces to the two of them as she boops the baby’s nose. She gurgles a laugh, kicking with her feet and clapping with her hands. “My perfect girl!”
A gift from the Gods, Helaena was born on Luke's second name day. Alicent expected to be a boy, as the alpha Queen apparently only sired boys, but then the midwives praised the Mother Above. An enchanting girl with a Valyrian beauty, a copy of Rhaenyra.
And Alicent loves the girl.
Loves, loves it fervently, loves as she loves the Gods.
The boys will be Princes, names in the history, and will have wives, but Helaena will always be hers. Her little girl, a baby made of adoration and not duty or sacrifice. Alicent entertains herself with ideas of the near future, about the evenings where she and Helaena will share the same hairstyle, moments where they will go to the Sept together, hours they will spend reading and embroidering…
“Lady Alicent,” after a gentle knock, Elinda enters the room.
Alicent’s brow furrows, “Your services will not be needed tonight, Elinda.”
She lowers her head, “The Queen said I should take the baby, my lady.”
Alicent’s heart sinks, chest heaving violently.
“Why?”
“The Queen demands you join her and the Consort for the meal.”
“I already ate.”
Elinda presses her lips in a line, “I apologize, my lady. The orders are not mine.”
Alicent gazes at Helaena, absently chewing on a bib.
In a green dress, Alicent leaves to the chambers of the Queen. She strides anxiously, head fogged with fear and wrath. She questions the reasons why she was asked to join the royal couple, the reason why it was not an invitation and instead an order.
At the double doors, Alicent's hands travel over her braided hair and expensive dress. She sees her own reflection in the gold dragons on the wood, facing a redhead woman with big brown eyes. Ser Criston opens the doors, and Alicent moves forward.
She finds the Queen and the Consort at the long table close to the balcony door. The table is decorated with trays of meat and fruits but their plates are empty. Rhaenyra is at the end of the table, nose flaring up while she drinks a goblet of wine. Laena is weirdly silent at the right side, drumming her fingers on the tip of a knife.
Alicent sits at the left, abstaining from greeting the Queen with a kiss in the mouth. She fills her goblet with water, drinking only enough to wet her lips. The room is abnormally silent and the swallowing sound reverberates.
Queen Rhaenyra is livid.
Eyelids so dangerously half-closed she could be mistaken for a dragon, nails scraping at the table. Alicent holds her breath, avoiding the bitter scent emitting from the Queen.
“Tell her,” orders Rhaenyra.
Laena eyes Alicent.
“Tell her, Laena, tell her what you have told me,” Rhaenyra orders a second time.
Alicent pants.
“There is nothing to be said.”
“Laena…”
“What’s happening?”
“Tell her, now!” Rhaenyra bangs the table with her fist.
Alicent feels like the whole room quivers.
And then she shrinks around herself, fearing the words Laena will say.
She knows, she knows, she knows…
They will have my tongue and whip the children!
They will take Helaena from me!
“The Triarchy is reuniting once again,” Rhaenyra drinks more wine. “And Laena plans to join the war efforts!”
Alicent gasps, incredulous.
“Vhagar is the biggest dragon alive!” now Laena is shouting. “And my Father is the Lord of House Velaryon! He is an old man, yet he'll join the fleets… With Vhagar, there wouldn't even be a war!”
“You think too much of yourself and that hoary old bitch!” retorts Rhaenyra. “You have never left the comfort of home, and now you will join the war? Listen to yourself, Laena.”
Laena crosses her arms.
“I have no use in the Red Keep,” she looks away.
Rhaenyra hits a plate with fury, the pottery breaking in three pieces, “For f*cks sake, Laena, you are the Queen Consort!”
“So what?” she scorns. “What do I do but spend the day decorating rooms? Organizing feasts?”
Rhaenyra's eyes close, praying for patience, teeth gnashing.
Alicent meddles, saying:
“The battlefield is no place for omegas, Laena. Please, think again. It's so dangerous and I, I… Hmm, the children need you.”
Alicent is not ruthless. She nurtures love for Laena, she truly cares for the woman, although very few people would understand the layers and complexities of said affection.
“I will return,” she says confidently. “The children will be fine, they will be with their mother and sire, and…”
“You are not leaving, Laena!” Rhaenyra rises from the chair. A true alpha, a true Queen. She wears trousers and a coat, and the crown seems to be a part of her body. She looks taller, threatening, and Alicent's head is down in submission even though the fury is not directed towards her. “You'll stay in the Red Keep, you are my wife and I'm the Queen, and it's my order: you will not leave this damn castle!”
“I have no use…”
“Stop that!”
“Laena, please…” Alicent mutters.
“I gave you no heirs!” Laena stands. “Almost fifteen years, and I've never been pregnant. Not even for a day. I'm useless at this point!”
Rhaenyra’s knuckles turn white.
“I appreciate your presence because of your spirit, Laena, not because of your womb,” although Alicent believes in the truth of her words, they lack warmth.
Laena laughs, and then the bickering continues in High Valyrian, and between those rough sounds she can hear ‘Alicent’ being pronounced twice. She is not fluent in the language, she can only comprehend simple structures. Alicent's face tingles, and before she can utter a word she is crying. The tension splits open every hidden insecurity, and she wails, hugging herself.
She is out of control, and there is nothing Alicent hates and dreads more.
For one moment, she thought years of planning were about to be uncovered. And it would be the end of it all ― the comfort she holds on to, the safety of the children, the prosperity of their love. Brutally, she would lose everything.
And now, victim to the screams of her lovers, there is more uncertainty. One day, Alicent considered life would be easier without Laena ― but now she sees how vital she had always been. She provides a different kind of love, one Rhaenyra cannot live without (and neither can Alicent).
Alicent jolts back to reality when a pair of arms circle her weak frame.
“Please, don’t go,” it’s all Alicent can say while hiccuping.
She clutches Laena’s wrists.
“Please, I beg you to stay!” she convulses with another crying spell.
The world is blurry, loud and quiet at the same time, but Alicent discerns some of the happenings. She listens to the promises of Laena, the apologies of the Queen, and she witnesses their kiss. Heat surrounds Alicent, and she is returning to earth as Rhaenyra and Laena tend her wounds. Their words are whispered, declarations of love and gratitude, and the children are mentioned with adoration. They share the Queen’s bed, both women cuddling Alicent, and together they drift to sleep.
Things will be alright then.
⁂⁂⁂
The Queen is drunk.
And so is the Wife.
And so is the Concubine.
It’s a celebration, a private celebration, but Alicent cannot quite remember what they are celebrating. She is so damn happy, lips smeared with red wine, and she feels giddy and hungry, even tough she has eaten more than she can count, and she has f*cked more than she can recall. She wants more, it’s not enough. It’s never enough.
“Will you do that again?” questions Rhaenyra, face scrunched up in rapture as Laena bobs her head up and down, choking on the Queen’s co*ck. Alicent stretches her limbs before climbing in the bed again, crawling sensually to Rhaenyra's side.
“What?” she feigns innocence.
“The thing you did earlier,” answers Rhaenyra.
“Oh, I did many things,” she giggles, fingers tracing the muscles on Rhaenyra's abdomen. Laena winks at her, and Alicent groans, a hand running to the apex of her thighs. She wants the Queen to pound into her c*nt while the Wife sits on her face.
Alicent grinds against her own hand, taking note of Laena's movements. The manner she breathes, and the way she devotedly sucks Rhaenyra's member, tongue swirling around the girth.
“You know what I mean,” Rhaenyra thrusts in Laena's eager mouth.
Alicent smirks, “Oh, you mean when Laena and I rubbed our c*nts.”
“f*ck!” the sentence causes goosebumps to run all over Rhaenyra's body.
Laena half-laughs, half-sputters, and Alicent guffaws as the Wife tries to swallow the Queen's seed.
“You are a pervert, my Queen,” she purses her lips. “Coming on your wife's mouth whilst thinking about her f*cking another woman!”
“It's not any other woman,” Rhaenyra grabs Alicent's chin, stealing a kiss. She spreads herself, savoring Laena's flavor on Rhaenyra's tongue. “Will you come in my mouth?”
What a dirty question! And absolutely crude. Alicent is about to answer when she is suddenly pressed against the bedsheets, Laena shoving herself between Alicent's legs.
“She's mine now,” are the only words Laena says before engulfing Alicent's cl*t. She throws her arms above her head, singing happily.
There is no better place to be.
Lust and love as one, two gorgeous women competing for attention…
Alicent climaxes with a few licks of Laena's tongue, already too oversensitive.
Laena lays beside her, hands conspiratorially roaming Alicent's flat stomach.
“You know what you should do?” she bites her upper lip. Laena's curly hair is disheveled, and somehow she looks more majestic than ever.
“What?” she asks.
On Alicent's right side, Rhaenyra comes closer.
Queen and Wife interlace fingers, resting their hands on the Concubine’s belly.
“You should let the Queen breed you,” Laena whispers in her ear. “Fill your tight puss* again.”
The Queen mumbles in agreement, co*ck already hard again and nestling Alicent's thigh, “Give us another alpha,” complements the Queen. “Will you? Hmm…”
They are celebrating Jacaerys! He is an alpha, his presentation…
Alicent is too inebriated to conceal her thoughts, “I don't want another boy.”
“Oh, it's alright, darling…”
“I'll give you another girl,” swears Rhaenyra, although she cannot control such destiny. “Another blonde girl, like Helaena…”
She nods.
Laena brushes her lips against Alicent's face, voice low and so full of adoration. They lovingly exchange pecks, and Alicent's sounds of pleasure echo on Laena's lips.
“That's it,” Laena kisses her again. “Take everything,” she helps Rhaenyra to keep Alicent’s knees open. “Nothing is enough for this greedy c*nt of yours, isn't it?”
No, it's not.
She always wants something more. More dresses and more jewelry, other properties, other titles. Crowns upon the children's heads. More sweets. Another round of pleasure.
But Alicent is unable to properly answer, teetering on the edge of an org*sm, legs shaking as Rhaenyra mercilessly f*cks her.
⁂⁂⁂
Alicent is round with child again. She is on the balcony, braiding Jacaerys long dark hair. After presenting as an alpha, he grew taller and stronger, and now Alicent is almost half the size of him.
But Jace, still a darling boy, indulges Alicent, “A Targaryen Prince,” she smooches his sharp cheekbones when the braid is finished. He becomes red as a beet. “A Targaryen King, I might say.”
There are only two resemblances between Rhaenyra and Jacaerys, the eyes and the nose. Those characteristics, without the elusive silver hair, are not impressive. And Jacaerys resents himself, constantly, “I’m not Targaryen.”
“What?” Alicent’s smile disappears from her face.
“I’m not Targaryen,” he repeats.
Alicent’s hand meets Jace’s nape in a sharp blow.
“Ow!”
“You are Rhaenyra Targaryen’s firstborn son,” she says.
He is silent.
“Unless you take me for some cheap whor*.”
“No! Mother, I would never suggest…” he trips on his words. “Please, forgive me.”
Then she is silent.
“I just don’t have the Targaryen traits,” he explains himself. “Aemond looks like a Targaryen Prince, and Helaena looks like a Targaryen Princess. But I look plain, as do Lucerys.”
“Plain like myself, I suppose.”
He cannot say otherwise.
“But you are a Targaryen,” she lifts her shoulders. “You were the reason your sire fought your grandsire so she could take me as a wife. We lost that fight, of course, but your Targaryen blood is the reason why we are here today.”
“Grandsire said she will not recognize me as the Heir.”
Alicent blinks.
“He is wrong.”
“Maybe he is right, mother. I’m a grown alpha, and my name might be Targaryen, but I have no titles. I’m not a Prince, and the boys still call me a ‘bastard.’”
“Which boys? Tell me, and I’ll demand their tongues!”
“Will you have their eyes too?”
“I’ll have both!” she holds Jacaerys face. “Listen to me, Jacaerys Targaryen, you are the rightful heir. Soon your sire will come to her senses and declare you the Prince of Dragonstone, and no stupid boy or girl will laugh at you!”
Jacaerys’s eyes are a watered tone of purple, almost blue, and Alicent can imagine in the reflection of his orbs his future. Jacaerys at the Iron Throne, wearing green and the same Golden Crown as his sire. She’ll proudly bend the knee for him when it’s time…
“Lady Alicent?” their brief connection is cut short.
Ser Criston Cole is at the threshold.
“Yes, Ser Criston?”
Alicent traces the patterns in Jacaerys’s braid.
“The Queen awaits her son in the Dragonpit.”
Alicent steps back, surprised when Jace asks, “Why?”
Alicent and Jacaerys glance at each other, and there is a spark of hope.
