Dance with her ghosts

"It can be said that Queen Alicent wasn't a cunning woman, uninterested in the games of court, yes, but she wasn't lacking in cunning, she had, after all, conquered the House of Dragon one by one."

- Maester Ollyvar, 133 AC

The things Alicent missed most about her old life were cold beers, roast beef and movies on rainy afternoons.

And the internet, and books that weren't copied by someone with a handwriting so bad you couldn't read it at night, and electricity, and casual sex with strangers, and Balerion and Dad and Grandpa.

And there's a tangent she doesn't want to go into because crying now, after burning to death in an explosion with nine other people, would break out in hives, because Alicent was woman enough to admit that nothing surrounding her death had been resolved - not even during the start of her new life, but she will never talk about breastfeeding or diapers or nipples.

Scarlet Jones has always enjoyed the fictional world that George R.R. Martin created, she loved the characters written by his hand, she had written her share of fanfiction around the universe created by George.

On the other hand, she cried for months at a time when she found out that she was in fact in the biggest civil war in the Game of Thrones world, and then, of course her name was Alicent fucking Hightower.

Things look promising after that, she gets a horse very similar to the one she had at home, she still has older brothers, her mother is a good woman, they live comfortably.

But then, of course her stupid father goes to the Great Council of 101 and she knows the Targaryens, she's heard about them - she's read about them a thousand years later in another universe - and they're everything the books talk about.

Dangerous, beautiful, gods among men, Daemon Targaryen - as she'd always assumed - was a first-rate rogue with a toothy grin and a look as charismatic as a vipers'.

The worst of the Targaryens, however, was Aemma Arryn.

No dragon, no Targaryen name, no danger at all, but still, dangerous as a hungry bear, because Alicent's knees go weak every time she even looks at Aemma and if they were a few thousand years in the future, Alicent would have bought Aemma a drink and… the rest would be history.

Alicent Hightower - who was supposed to be the dutiful daughter and marry King Viserys I and produce her rapist, kin-killer, dreamer babies - had such a crush on the King's wife that it wasn't even funny.

She doesn't think much of it, Alicent became as wild as she could in childhood just so her father would have a good enough reason not to stay in the capital, she rode horses, competed in tourneys, beat squires, insulted lords and gave her father a permanent twitch in his eye.

She did what she could, after all, she liked House Targaryen from Game of Thrones, she had loved Daenerys Targaryen, had cried when she cried, laughed when she laughed and had revolted on Twitter with Daenerys' undignified ending.

And then she did the same with House of The Dragon, she laughed with Rhaenyra, she cried at Aemma's death, and then she screamed when Paddy Considine walked into the throne room, half alive, half dead and the scene of the crown falling to the floor.

She had loved all these people before even thinking about the possibility of meeting their counterparts, be it the real actors or the characters, she had loved, hated, cried, grieved, screamed at each of these people before they even knew she existed... 

And don't even try to make her talk about the extinction of dragons, it hurt to this day to know that Drogon was a poor little boy lost in the world, without a mother, without brothers, a lonely and lost boy that no one knew the end of.

Scarlet never got to watch the second season of House of The Dragon, but she had read the books and knew that this was where House Targaryen began its slow and steady decline.

She had to avoid the threats to the throne, she had to avoid the rapist Aegon, and the mad kin-killer Aemond and Helaena, the sweet summer child would be a loss that would ache for years and years and Daeron who knew nothing but the nickname of Daring .

She had to keep Daenerys from being a little exiled girl gone mad, she had to keep Jon from being raised a bastard, and she had to keep the dragons alive because the thought of the long night made her skin crawl.

How many times had she slept and dreamed of the Night King, breathing down her neck and looking into her eyes with cold blue eyes that said you're not from around here, stranger.

They were just dreams, but they left goose bumps on her arms and her heart racing so fast that she couldn't sleep if it wasn't with Gwayne or one of her brothers and she still kept her eyes open with a knife under her pillow hoping that was all her paranoia was, paranoia.

She is hopeful, because it has changed things, she doesn't have a dependent relationship with her father, they keep a cold distance now, more like acquaintances than father and daughter, Otto pretends that his daughter doesn't embarrass him and Alicent pretends that she doesn't do it on purpose.

But of course she is wrong.

Men, even those challenged, are still men, and the only thing that makes them happy is power.

So she clashes with Daemon as soon as the man arrives.

A risky move, considering Daemon was as volatile as a match at a gas station, he was dangerous, of course, but what Targaryen wasn't?

And yet, despite their differences - and the obnoxious fact that Daemon discovered that Alicent was in fact the daughter of Otto "cunt" Hightower, his words, not hers - Daemon and Alicent get along like a house on fire, they are both sneaky, smart, and have unnerving smiles that make people slightly uncomfortable.

From there it's a giant avalanche. 

Viserys wins the Great Council of 101 - which Alicent had hoped would not happen - Rhaenys and Corlys are so offended it hurts, Lord Hightower is promoted to Lord Hand of the King, and how, Alicent doesn't know, for her father is the second son who never got a castle of his own and never had anything to his name.

Though a man with nothing to his name, Otto Hightower was nothing if not a greedy, manipulative man who would sell sand to the Dornishmen if he didn't think the Dornishmen were impure heathens and frigid whores, his words, not hers.

She goes to the Capital then, to the Targaryen Stronghold and sees their strength, their power, their brutality, their violence and their love, she sees the beasts that fly in the sky and thinks that flying would be a dream after having her feet on the ground for so long.

Her father Lord Hand and Alicent needs to leave the capital and prevent her father from having a position of power, Viserys' reign from being a downfall of the dynasty, most of all so that somehow she can avoid becoming a Queen.

So she does what she can, eats the food with the smallfolk, dresses like a man, dances with men who are so beneath her station her father's eye twitches, she forms such an enduring friendship with Daemon - which  scares her like hell. His bloodlust becomes hers, it frightens her how similar they are - and parades him up and down the halls with such confidence that Otto always yells at her and keeps her locked in her rooms.

She doesn't give up, she never did before and she won't give up now, especially to a parent who hates her.

Alicent meets King Jaehaerys, he is a small man, bent with age, a little senile, a little mad like every Targaryen and yet one of the most cunning and stealthy men Alicent would ever know.

Jaehaerys was not a silly man, he had been the decisive ruler when choosing the next King of Westeros, after all, everyone knew that Rhaenys was the true heir, the Kingdom knew it, Viserys knew it, Jaehaerys knew it, and yet he had denied the right of his granddaughter's birthright.

She reads to the Old King when the he is awake, the stories of Old Valyria, tales so old the books are dusty and brittle, and when the King sleeps she speaks of home.

She tells him how Scarlet grew up on a small isolated cattle ranch in Texas, she tells him about Vodka, Mimosa and Tequila, the three milk cows Grandpa John kept in the barnyard, and Peanut the horse.

And about her older brother, Erick, who had been arrested after robbing a grocery store at gunpoint, and Nate, who wanted to be a doctor but had beaten one of his high school bullies so badly that the boy had fallen into a coma, and Adam, the son Dad lost to heroin, and Jacob, who was smart and kind but who would never be content to just stay in Texas and had crashed their dad's truck trying to get away and finally Damon, the gentlest of them all, the the brother who taught her how to throw a punch and who took her to the boxing ring and the brother who had gotten into a fight he shouldn't have and died for it.

She tells about Grandpa, who sometimes thought she was her own mother and who got things mixed up, her Grandpa, Grandpa John, the kindest, sweetest, most beloved Grandpa, who didn't know who she was when he saw her in the army uniform, a man so smart he'd lost his mind to Alzheimer's.

Alicent doesn't talk about her father, she can still remember him, his brown eyes crinkled with laughter, his black hair that turned whiter faster every time she saw him.

Daddy is a sore, open, festering wound constantly doused with alcohol.

Thinking about him hurts, he was her first friend, he was there when she lost her first tooth, and when she had her first kiss and went to her first party and when she joined the army and when she came back, and when she was gone again , Dad was probably there when she didn't come home.

Alicent doesn't think about him, not anymore, not when she's hurt him so badly she can't even measure it.

The Old King gets worse, he starts calling her Saera and talks about Maegor, and his wife and their children who are already dead, the Maesters throw her out of the room when the King gets worse, they can't bear the thought that a woman be able to learn the healing arts.

Then she becomes lady-in-waiting to the future Queen Aemma Arryn and Alicent is screwed .

From there it's easy.

She falls in love with Aemma as easily as breathing, she is sweet, caring and charitable but has a fire burning so hot in her veins it's hard not to compare her to Balerion the dragon.

Falling in love with Rhaenyra isn't that difficult either, she's a bit spoiled, she always pouts when she wants something and her cries can be heard from all around, but still, she cried when they found a little bird with broken wings and insisted on giving milk to the orphaned kittens in the kitchens.

It takes a little longer for Aemma to fall in love with her.

But when it does, it's beautiful, it's breathtaking, it's so breathtaking, it makes her heart stop and restart, all at the same time, it's like a meteor shower on a moonless day.

The euphoria is great, but the fear is greater.

The world has always been unfair, but it's always been more unfair to women, and especially to George Martin's Queens, so she thinks about kissing Aemma and all she can remember is Cersei Lannister, naked, stoned and bloodied.

And Cersei's face is Aemma's and she could never do that to her first love in the Seven Kingdoms.

They live each day as if it were their last, if things continue as they are, Alicent will marry a man who is not the King and Aemma will be a mother to Rhaenyra and things will be fine and that's all her nightmares will be, Nightmares.

That's not how it goes, she can give Aemma moon tea every time her eyes go sunken, her smiles brittle and her eyes a little wet when she whispers Alicent, not again, please don't leave me with him again, please.

She doesn't know how, but Aemma is pregnant again, the moon tea didn't work.

Some babies are just meant to be born and some people are just meant to die.

Alicent Hightower kisses Aemma Arryn once, when a trembling Aemma appears on her doorstep and tells her that she is pregnant, that the moon tea didn't work, and that she knows, somehow, that she won't make it after this baby.

After that she runs away, wallows in self-pity and hides in the rubble of her own sanity, she failed, she had a mission, to keep Aemma alive, and just like in the other self-inserts, Aemma Arryn is destined to die as a raven is destined to fly.

Aemma's pregnancy is literal hell, she throws up every hour she can, her skin grows paler and paler and she looks more tired each day as the parasite grows inside her, her dark circles turn a deep shade of purple and she seems more and more discontented and unhappy with every day.

Alicent offers Aemma moon tea over and over again during pregnancy, and not once does she call the child who will kill her beloved anything other than a parasite or a leech, Aemma doesn't mind, and every time, she smiles fondly and says no, don't worry honey, this is the last time.

Aemma never accepts, they both know Viserys would never stop trying to get Aemma pregnant if she lost this baby, Alicent still offers, every time they meet, her sweet, darling, kind Aemma just smiles and repeats one last time, darling .

And Alicent wants to scream, it's the last time, they both know it, because death is running its bony fingers through Aemma's hair and singing in her ears as it kisses her neck.

And then the day of the bloody tournament arrives and Alicent sits in the royal box, smiles with skin stretched over her bones and tears in her eyes, she entertains Rhaenyra, flirts affectionately - and unintentionally with Daemon, because he knows, he knows and he has never spoken anything, because most of all, Daemon understands Aemma.

And then the news come, Queen Aemma is dead, and Alicent feels a lump in her throat, like she's sixteen again and she can't breathe because the panic is so bad her breathing doesn't seem important.

Viserys cut Aemma down as if she were a deer.

As if she wasn't the Queen.

As if Aemma were a circus monkey, an attraction for all to see.

It hurt a lot more in person than watching it on a television screen.

She mourns for herself, she cries all there is to cry for the first day and she watches the vigils for Aemma as if they were part of her, Viserys is always half drunk, half delusional, he cries and begs and Alicent wants to hit him over the head with a sledgehammer, or a hammer, a sword will do too. 

Because he did that, he cut open the woman she loved like a deer, took the baby out of her womb, and lost them both, all because he was too selfish to settle for a daughter.

She decides to kill him then.

With her friendship with Daemon, it isn't hard to figure out the secret passages Maegor built, let alone how to use them.

After Rhaenyra says dracarys to her mother and brother, everyone is so destroyed they disappear seconds after the fire ends, Daemon disappears so fast that not even his shadow is seen, Rhaenyra hides in her rooms and Alicent doesn't intervene when she hears the broken sobs.

She goes into her room, puts a chair to the door, and takes out her hunting knife, the one that made her father finally get the twitch in his eye, the same one she used to skin deer when she was home.

The same knife that would kill Viserys like a pig, just as he did Aemma.

Entering the corridor behind her wardrobe is as easy as moving, the corridors Maegor made are narrow, dusty, and some of them even gray, the rats moving in a cacophony of irritating sounds that make Alicent more paranoid.

The wall that opens in the King's room is one that Alicent has passed many times before, to visit Aemma, who had a hidden door in the same hallway.

She enters and the first thing that she registers is the sweet smell of wine, and then the thrown clothes, the ripped papers and the cold bath with clean water, only later does she register the fat lump that is the King.

Viserys I is lying in his bed, in a wine-stained white shirt, a crown thrown haphazardly across the pillow, pants stained yellow with urine, and eyes puffy from crying.

He looks pathetic, a pretty faithful representation of the scum his rule will become, a pathetic King, the offspring of a King who was so desperate for a male heir that he made his grandson marry a girl eleven name-days old and forced her to have babies too soon.

Alicent wants to wake him up, ask why, wants to know what motivated him to split open the woman they both loved, she wants to know what motivated him to kill the mother of a little girl and the kindest woman she's ever known.

Alicent wants and wants and wants, but Viserys is a dead man walking, a clean cut on his neck, and Ser Steffon won't find him until the next day, when someone will be looking for the King, and until then, Alicent will have no proof of the crime.

— Aemma. — Viserys groans and turns, exposing his neck to her, Alicent smiles.

— Aemma won't come back, you shitty King, because you killed her. — she replies, even though she doesn't need to, moving closer to the bed, the hunting knife raised in a light, comfortable grip reminiscent of the days when she used a switchblade in the army.

She touches the tip of the knife to Viserys's neck.

But she remembers, that Viserys, as fat and good-for-nothing and stupid as he is, holds the Kingdoms together.

Rhaenyra is young, not yet named as heir, and killing Viserys would only bring Daemon to the throne, but she knows Daemon well enough to know that he would sign the annulment of his marriage and announce his betrothal to the only Valyrian bride he has ever wanted.

So the Eyrie's scorn, and the Velaryon's scorn, and the war Corlys would make over Daemon's spurning of his daughter, again a Targaryen taunt.

She thinks of the endless nights of war and thinks it would be a horror to live in a war that never ends, but then she remembers the heat of Afghanistan and thinks that the heat of the dragons must not be so much hotter.

She doesn't kill Viserys that night, or the next, or the night after, because Rhaenyra is eight years old, Daemon is very volatile, the vipers are starting to show themselves like they have never have before, and Otto has such a superior look on jis face that Rhaenyra would suffocate in the madness of the Throne before she could truly rule.

Daemon is sitting in the only chair in Alicent's room when she enters the passageway she found.

— My brother. — Daemon begins, his eyes hurt, his hand on his sword pommel. — He is alive? Is Viserys alive, Alicent? — he asks again, Alicent knows Daemon well enough not to wonder what the hell he would do if she tried to kill his esteemed brother.

— For today. — she replies, the words rolling off her tongue like she's spitting barbs. — All that keeps him alive is Rhaenyra's age, when she is strong enough to be Queen in her own right, your brother's days will be outnumbered.

Daemon doesn't answer, but he tilts his head in confusion and Alicent reminds herself that Rhaenyra is not yet the heir.

Alicent also wouldn't know what to say if Daemon threatened Leyton, Uthon, Gwayne or Manfred, she doesn't look at him as she sits on her bed and slowly undoes her ponytail.

— Otto will make you marry him. — Daemon says, leaning forward.

— Better a snake around the neck than ten crawling.