Woven in Green
Chapter 2
Part 1 <—
f!oc x Alicent Hightower
A/n: I’ve been having a surprising amount of fun writing this little story. Please leave a comment if I should continue or any requests you may have. Xo
Hours passed as Rhaella lay awake, watching her beloved, not daring to surrender to sleep.
She simply watched.
She committed every part of Alicent to memory. The faint lines time had etched around her eyes, each freckle scattered across her fair skin, the stubborn crease between her brows that remained even in sleep. She looked younger like this. Softer. Even now, she still pouted ever so slightly in her sleep, her bottom lip jutting out just enough to make Rhaella’s heart ache.
Gods… How had it come to this?
The guilt sat like stone within her chest.
She had failed. She can’t determine at what exactly but she felt it deep within her bones.
First came this needless war, cemented by Aemond, consumed by old wounds he had never learned to let heal. Then sweet Jaehaerys…
A memory she could never bury.
After Jaehaerys, Helaena had become but a shadow of herself. Then, Aegon had vanished after Rook’s Rest, broken in body and spirit.
Their family had splintered beyond repair. And Rhaella had stood helpless as each piece fell away.
What could she have done differently?
Had she been born a son, would any of this have happened?
Would her father have smiled at her?
Would her mother still be alive?
The thoughts came unbidden, cruel in their familiarity.
She had spent her entire life trying to outrun them. Now another had joined their ranks. She had allowed a man to lay hands upon Alicent.
Rhaella squeezed her eyes shut. She refused to imagine what might have happened had she arrived only moments later.
Perhaps she truly was cursed.
Everyone she loved suffered.
Her mother.
Aegon.
Helaena.
Jaehaerys.
And now Alicent.
Silent tears slipped down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. She made no move to wipe them away. None of it mattered now.
There was still one thing left she could do.
Escape.
This time tomorrow they would be across the Narrow Sea, far from councils and crowns, far from dragons and war. Alicent. Helaena. Little Jaehaera.
She would see them safely away. That was her duty. The only one that had ever mattered.
Lord Jasper Wylde.
Rhaella’s gaze drifted toward the window. The sky beyond remained dark. There was still time.
She rose quietly and with infinite tenderness, she pressed a lingering kiss against the familiar crease between Alicent’s brows.
“I’ll be back before you wake,” she whispered.
Careful not to disturb her, Rhaella straightened the wrinkled gown she had never bothered to change before making her way to the chamber door. It opened with barely a sound.
Ser Roland stood waiting where he always had, vigilant as ever. The knight straightened immediately.
“Princess.”
“No one enters this chamber until I return.”
He inclined his head.
Rhaella hesitated only a moment, her gaze drifting back toward the sleeping figure beyond the half open door. Guilt gnawed at her for leaving Alicent alone again.
But she trusted her protector. He would not fail her.
————————————————————————
The descent into the Black Cells felt colder than Rhaella remembered.
A single torch burned in her hand, its wavering flame casting long shadows across the damp stone walls. The air smelled of mildew, rust, and something fouler. Water dripped steadily from the ceiling, the sound echoing through the winding passage like the ticking of a clock. Rats scattered beneath her feet, disappearing into cracks within the ancient stone.
She had been here before.
On that damned night.
The memory came unbidden.
She and Aegon had stood in these very tunnels after Jaehaerys’ killer been dragged below. Rhaella scarcely remembered the questioning, nor the man’s pleading. What she remembered instead was the blood.
It had taken three buckets of water before the crimson finally washed from beneath her nails. Even then, her hands still smelt of iron.
Her grip tightened around the torch.
A lone Gold Cloak stood waiting outside Lord Jasper’s cell just as she had ordered hours before. Unlike the Kingsguard, the City Watch had been born of a different ilk, they understood that justice was not always clean.
The guard stepped aside without a word.
Lord Jasper heard her footsteps before he saw her.
He looked up from the floor with open disdain, dried blood still marking the cut across his face.
“What absurdity is this?” he muttered. “Have I truly been thrown into a cell at the whim of an overemotional princess?”
Rhaella said nothing.
She stopped just beyond the iron bars, the torchlight illuminating only half her face.
Silence settled between them.
It stretched so long that even Jasper’s confidence began to falter.
Finally, he broke it.
“Have you come to kill me, then?”
Rhaella regarded him without expression.
“They taught us the horrors of dragonfire,” she said quietly. “They say it clings to flesh. That it melts steel to skin and leaves a man alive long enough to pray for death.”
Jasper’s throat bobbed.
“My brother survived it.” Her violet eyes never left his.
“Perhaps, if my drunken brother could endure such agony…” She tilted her head ever so slightly “…rest assured it might not be as terrible as they claim.”
For the first time since she had entered, Jasper’s composure cracked. A bead of sweat traced a path down his temple. Yet pride won out.
“Is this your pathetic attempt to frighten me?” he scoffed. “Do what you must. The gods know the truth. They shall judge me justly.”
Something dangerous flickered behind Rhaella’s eyes. “You have no right to speak of gods.” Her voice remained calm, though each word struck like a blade. “The Queen Dowager is the very visage of the Mother, and yet you have disgraced her. I have no doubt the Seven have already turned from you.”
A bitter laugh escaped Jasper. “The Mother?” he sneered. “Do not speak to me of piety. She wears devotion like a veil, yet welcomes temptation beneath it.” His gaze slid knowingly over Rhaella.
“Do you truly believe no one noticed? The lingering glances. The endless excuses to remain at her side. The way her eyes sought yours before any other.” His face contorted with disgust.
“Tell me, Princess… am I to die for laying hands upon a sinner? Or because I laid hands upon your sinner?”
For the first time since entering the cell, Rhaella smiled.
It was small.
Cold.
Almost pitying.
“If she is my sin,” she said, “I shall answer for it when my time comes.” She stepped closer until only the iron bars separated them.
“You, however…”
Her gaze hardened.
“…will answer for what you did today.”
Whatever satisfaction Jasper had hoped to find vanished. Without another word, Rhaella turned away.
She stopped beside the waiting Gold Cloak, placing a hand upon the man’s shoulder. “First take his hands, then his head”
The guard gave a single nod.
Rhaella retreated from the back cells without looking back. She found it unnerving how little coin it had taken for a member of the City Watch to embrace depravity, but she was grateful.
————————————————————————
The first thing Alicent became aware of was warmth.
Not the warmth of the morning sun creeping through the curtains, nor the dying embers crackling softly within the hearth, but something familiar.
She stirred, lashes fluttering as sleep reluctantly released its hold.
Rhaella.
She had somehow managed to fall asleep sitting upright against the carved headboard, their fingers still intertwined as they had been the night before.
Alicent’s chest tightened.
The princess’s neck was bent at an angle certain to ache by morning. Loose strands of hair framed her face, interrupted only by the familiar streak of silver that caught the first rays of dawn. Shadows lingered beneath her violet eyes, remnants of a battle she had fought through the night.
Even in sleep… She looked worried.
Alicent’s thumb absently brushed the emerald ring adorning Rhaella’s finger. The cool gold beneath her fingertips drew forth a memory she had not thought of in years.
It had been summer.
The gardens smelled of roses and the two of them had laid watching a young Aegon chasing dragonflies across the grass, blissfully unaware of the women watching over him.
“If you could go anywhere,” Alicent had asked still watching her boy, “where would you go?”
Rhaella had not even paused to consider it “Wherever you are.”
The answer had earned her a laugh and a shove to the shoulder.
The memory faded as quickly as it had come.
A small smile tugged at Alicent’s lips before disappearing just as swiftly.
Unable to stop herself, she reached forward, carefully tucking a loose strand of hair behind Rhaella’s ear.
“You’ll ruin your neck,” she whispered.
“I’d ruin far worse for you.”
Alicent startled.
Violet eyes slowly opened, amusement shining through the exhaustion.
“You’re awake?”
A sleepy smile tugged at Rhaella’s lips. “I’ve been pretending.”
A breath of laughter escaped Alicent before she could stop it. Rhaella looked at her as though she had just watched the sun rise.
“There she is.”
She tried to hide the forming blush by rolling her eyes.
“I mean it.” Rhaella shifted to face her more fully. “I see the woman I have loved since she refused to speak to me for two days after losing at cyvasse.”
Alicent scoffed. “You cheated.”
Rhaella gasped dramatically. “I most certainly did not.”
Alicent raised a brow. “You hid one of my pieces beneath your sleeve.”
Rhaella placed a hand over her heart in mock offense. “You put my character into question.”
This time Alicent laughed properly. Gods… It really was the most beautiful sound.
Three quiet knocks interrupted the moment. Their smiles faded almost instantly. Duty had found them once more.
Rhaella rose from the bed and crossed the room, opening the chamber door just enough for Maester Orwyle to slip inside.
“Princess,” he greeted in a hushed voice “Everything is prepared. Cloaks have been laid out, and a fishing vessel awaits the morning tide.”
Hope stirred within Rhaella’s chest. She inclined her head. “You have done us a great kindness, Maester.”
“The realm has asked much of Her Grace.” He lowered his gaze. “I pray this small service may repay but a fraction of it.”
With one final bow, the maester took his leave.
Rhaella stepped into the corridor where Ser Roland stood waiting. “Have someone bring Queen Helaena and Princess Jaehaera.”
“At once.”
By the time she returned to the chamber, Alicent had wandered to the window. She stood with her back turned, absentmindedly picking at the skin around her nails as she stared out over King’s Landing.
Rhaella crossed the room until she stood beside her. Neither woman spoke.
Below them, the city stirred as though it were any other morning. Merchants lifted their shutters. Bakers opened their ovens. Children chased one another through narrow streets while fishermen called from the docks.
None of them knew how soon Rhanyra would be approaching.
“It’s really happening,” Alicent murmured.
Behind the fear there was a small glimmer of hope deep within her voice. Rhaella reached for her hand, lifting it to pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles.
“Together,” she promised.
Outside, somewhere beyond the city walls, the distant beat of dragon wings rolled across the waters of Blackwater Bay.
“Together.” Alicent smiled. It was small. Fragile.
The gods had always been cruel enough to let hope bloom before demanding it be buried.
