Chapter Text
Pain was a familiar sensation for Alicent. It was something rooted deep within her for as long as she could remember. She had managed to learn to live with it as if it were a small, constant thorn.
She thought she had controlled it, that her pain would not hurt others the way her father’s did. But she had failed miserably time and again, and though she had always risen triumphant after her defeats, at the end of the day, she always ended up resembling him more and more.
Thus, she always came out losing.
Otto was cruel and perverse, a man without qualms or scruples. She had tried countless times to speak with him, to make him see reason. But he never wanted to listen. He never did, until the day came when they separated his head from his body.
She had felt fear, too much fear. The person who had provoked that disaster was no longer alive to help her solve it. He was dead, and she was, officially, left alone.
Aegon was enraged with Rhaenyra in a way that surpassed obsession, Helaena had decided to end her own life, Aemond was blinded by that witch who served them for little to nothing, and Daeron had been cruelly murdered. All her children had slipped through her fingers, and when she believed she had nothing left, there was still someone.
Little Jaehaera. Her granddaughter and her last refuge, the only vestige she kept of the sweet daughter the Gods had given her. But, of course, that didn't last long either. The princess feared her.
She repented every day for the words of hatred she had whispered into the little girl's ear, the murder orders that her once-noble mouth had spat out. The Stranger was not coming only for her life, he was coming to collect every ounce of bitterness she had spread.
Another memory that haunted her was when, after years of seeing not a single real emotion in Aegon's eyes, he burst into her chambers to gloat over Rhaenyra's death. Utterly happy and waiting for her acceptance.
His. Acceptance.
He had burned her. Alive.
She still remembered the sinking sensation in her stomach, the rapid pumping of her heart, and the sudden dizziness that shook her upon receiving the news.
Rhaenyra.
The girl who had become a woman alongside her, who had honored her by spending entire afternoons by her side, sharing readings and secrets, the only one who always managed to rescue her from her darkest moments.
"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!" she had screamed with all her might, in a way she hadn't done in years. This was the end. Aegon was lost.
She doesn't remember much from that point on. Only the same pain that had haunted her all her life: for you can cover the sun with a finger, and it will still be there.
Finally, they all died, and she was cast aside.
She felt nothing, only a profound numbness. Eating was an almost impossible task that ended up snatching away the little strength she had left; taking a bath was the same or even more complex. Breathing hurt, and her body had dried up from so much weeping.
The only moment she could be at peace was when she closed her eyes and saw people she shouldn't see.
Sometimes it was Viserys who visited her in his best form to reprimand her for having failed his children and Rhaenyra. In his own words, for lack of a father, a mother still remained. And she had clearly done a terrible job as such. Alicent would apologize until her throat burned and she could no longer speak, only to then kiss his feet, begging for a forgiveness she didn't know if he was capable of granting. Her late husband would only look at her with sadness and, after an eternal silence, he always invited her head to rest on his lap.
Other times it was Rhaenyra, and only the Gods knew how much it hurt when the young princess spoke to her.
She looked so radiant and, at the same time, so broken. She looked at her as if it pained her not to be able to touch her for real. When she appeared angry, it was usually to reproach her for her disloyalty, her smallness, her cowardice. After a while, she would return repentant and pamper her with caresses, telling her that what was done was done and that she would eventually pay for it.
Alicent loved feeling those hands sink into her thick hair.
"You don't know how long I've been waiting for you, Alicent," she whispered as she traced the lines of Alicent's face with her index finger, lying on her side, accompanying her. "I hope the Gods take pity on you, dear friend. For you have the bad habit of suffering unnecessarily and then dragging others down with you." Her hand stopped for a moment, and Alicent feared she might decide to pull away. "I wonder if I will ever see who you truly are, because I have never known you."
"I wish you could ever forgive me for all the damage that—"
She was interrupted by her friend's hand, which suddenly covered her mouth.
"I don't think I can. But we will meet again one day, and you will read to me like before, yes?"
The worst days were when Otto was with her. He held his own worm-eaten head and stayed in the corner of the room with his body rigid. Bile would rise in Alicent's throat, but she couldn't help but observe him with morbid fascination. If she had prayed enough, he stayed only one day. If she had mistreated any of the maids, then he might stay for weeks, causing her to stay in a vigil, waiting for him not to move a single inch closer.
On the other hand, her father was not the only one who appeared that way, her children were also in their worst forms: Helaena was always completely covered in blood and torn to pieces, Aegon with his body utterly rotted, and Aemond looked completely unrecognizable, just like Daeron. And her grandchildren... Gods, she didn’t even want to remember them; though they usually hardly appeared at all.
They had murdered her entire family for nothing.
For something that didn't belong to them, that wasn't theirs. Greed had overtaken them, and they had ended up destroying themselves, and now only she remained.
She couldn't help but wonder how much time was left before the Stranger came for her and her soul was condemned to the seven hells.
Definitely, not much.
One day, all of them stopped appearing. Neither Rhaenyra nor her children returned to haunt her. But that blessing was accompanied by a severe headache that made breathing a difficult task.
She couldn't say the maesters and maids had watched over her with love, for they feared her for her fits of rage, but they did what was in their power. And finally, her body fought its last battle before letting her go.
She died in her sleep, or at least trying to rest, for she no longer had the strength for anything else. For an indefinite time, she inhabited a void where absolutely nothing existed. Simply a black space that seemed to have no end.
She took the liberty of thinking it was a peaceful place, but madness haunted her again when she felt time passing without anything happening.
Until, finally, the landscape changed.
It was sudden, and she didn't know when it happened. But she felt the familiar sensation of grass on the back of her hands, then on her back, and finally, enveloping her entire body.
She tried to open her eyes, but they would not yield. Instead, the more time passed, the more aware she became of other things.
The smell of damp earth, the reddish warmth piercing her eyelids, and the sound of birds singing. Sometimes, she even felt the whisper of the wind hitting her ears.
Then she felt a sudden cold, just before a voice, soft and velvety, reached her ears. She couldn't understand what it said, but she yearned to answer.
What was happening? Had the Gods taken pity on her, or was this nothing more than an illusion? Was she condemned to continue suffering?
The voices continued talking, in an increasingly louder tone, until...
"Clarisa, you take her by the legs and I’ll take the arms. Lyssena, Sienna, you hold her by the sides."
Finally, she felt hands being placed on her body, apparently naked. They carried her like that for a while, making brief stops to rest and trying to make her drink some water or, better yet, wake up. Alicent was in a crisis: why did her body refuse to respond? What did they intend to do with her?
"Mila, do you think she’s been raped?" another spoke. This voice sounded a bit more tense than the first, but it would have still been pleasant to hear were it not for the words that had come out of that mouth.
"She isn't marked, her skin is softer than a baby's arse, and she hasn't a trace of pox. Those sons of bitches are bastards, they would have destroyed her." The voice paused thoughtfully. "Maybe she’s some noble's mistress, who kno—"
A boisterous laugh cut her off, so loud that Alicent could have sworn she felt a shiver running down her spine.
"Don't talk nonsense, Sienna! Do you think nobles leave their mistresses like this?"
A heated discussion arose on the matter.
Some said she was perhaps the mistress of some lord, while others insisted she had escaped from a nearby brothel and lost her clothes in the flight.
Alicent didn't even know what to think of the latter. That group of hands groping her body had just revealed they came from a pleasure house accidentally in the middle of the discussion without any shame, and what disturbed her most was that they couldn't believe someone like her worked in the same trade.
"Come on, let's just check her treasure."
"No. We aren't like that. This woman is in deep shit, and who knows how long she was there before we saw her. We’ll look after her, and once she wakes up, we’ll find out how she got there."
She recognized it as the first voice that had presented itself, and for a moment, she grew a bit more calm. But, in any case, she still understood absolutely nothing.
And she wouldn't know until she woke up.