Dance with her ghosts

— Why does the White Book call him Ser Criston the Tongueless?

— It is said that one day he tried to create discord between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra, so the Queen sent Ser Arryk of the Kingsguard to fetch a pair of scissors and cut off Ser Criston's tongue herself.

- Arthur Dayne and Jaime Lannister, in 284 AC on the White Book

Scarlett Jones always believed that history existed so that the same mistakes would not be made twice.

She had carried that philosophy through her life, staying away from drugs, always getting good grades, not drinking alcohol until she was of legal age, and listening - if grudgingly - to her father in every situation in her life.

And after her death, Scarlett Jones had held that philosophy so deep within herself that it was an inherent part of Alicent Hightower.

And she had done everything to ensure that history did not repeat itself, had kept as far away as possible from Viserys and his false dreams, had pushed her father as far away as she could, and had prayed that a marriage between her and Viserys would never happen. 

Practically everything in her life since arriving here had been an attempt to stay away from the original story. Marrying Viserys, loving Aemma, loving Daemon as her emotionally wounded eldest child, and loving little Rhaenyra Targaryen as if she were her own daughter, those were things that just happened, as if they were destined to happen.

Aemma, Aegon, Helaena, Daemon and Rhaenyra could be seen as mistakes by someone who was, at her very core, a person who knew she was living in what was the most cursed and bloody set of books ever written.

But that was the way it was, Alicent had already come to terms with it, there was no middle ground with a Targaryen, you either loved them or you hated them, and Alicent was very determined to hate them but it was practically impossible.

She loved them so much that sometimes her chest ached, and she felt the purest affection for Rhaenyra, the sweet summer child, who was like an extension of Alicent, an extension that was growing strong and beautiful and stubborn, but yet so sweet that her chest seemed to expand every time they saw each other.

And Aegon and Helaena were all the good that existed, but never mistakes, they were her children, her children, Aegon was the first grandchild her father had, and her chest ached so much when she remembered that her father, her sweet father whom she loved so much, who was left waiting for a daughter who never came back and now, all she had was Otto Hightower.

And Helaena, who was so Targaryen with pale lilac eyes and white hair that was almost transparent, but who was so much like Alicent it was like looking in a mirror, with curls of hair that were pure her and a small nose on a cheeky face that reminded her of her mother.

Her father - her real father, the one who lived in an outhouse on the farm and took care of orphaned kittens and knitted for charity at Christmas - would have loved and adored Helaena like she was a Queen, even if she didn't talk, she liked bugs and she always had scraped knees and as the maester liked to say, she was weird.

— Mommy. — Aegon pokes at her swollen belly, and apparently, Alicent can drink Moon tea like water, but if her children are meant to be born, they will be. — You stopped, again. — he whispers, sounding annoyed and Alicent can't help but laugh.

— Oh, honey, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. —  Alicent answers, stroking his blond hair. — Queen Lucy Pevensie, the Valiant was coming home after following the Lamp-post light, and then she was back, as the day she left, in the wardrobe of her eccentric uncle's country house.

— And then? — Aegon asks, looking very impatient, Alicent can't help but smile, he looks so much like Rhaenyra, with a pout on his lips and furrowed brows, that it's almost as if he's a carbon copy of his older sister.

— And afterward, little boy named Aegon went to sleep. — Alicent replies, smiling when Aegon's frown deepens.

— Mom, I don't want to sleep, Lena wants to sleep. — Aegon replies, crossing his arms.

— I think Lena's already asleep, darling. — Alicent whispers, as if it was a secret, pointing to Helaena, lying huddled in her favorite rocking chair - and why she insists on sleeping in the chair and then being taken to bed will remain a mystery. — You don't want to wake her, do you?

Aegon's eyes widen in disgust, filling with tears, clear signs of a tired child.

As stupid, idiotic, cruel and sadistic as the Aegon of the series and books was, Alicent's Aegon Targaryen was a small, loving, happy child who loved his two sisters and who was as needy for hugs and kisses as he was for sweet cakes from the kitchens.

— It's okay honey, Lena is sleeping and you're going to sleep too. — Alicent whispers and Aegon sniffs, snuggling into her big belly.

— I am not sleepy. — her son replies, rubbing his eyes, and contradicting himself, looking very tired.

— Of course not, but it's night outside, and the little sheep are asleep, and the little birds and Lena's caterpillars, and Sunfyre, and little dragons need sleep so they can grow. — she whispers back as she tucks the covers around Aegon and runs her fingers over his scalp, something that has helped him sleep since he was a baby.

— You said I'd grow if I ate vegetables, not if I slept. — Aegon retorts, sounding irritated as only a five-year-old can, Alicent wants to laugh, or scream, she doesn't know yet.

— You need vegetables and sleep to grow. — she chooses to reply, kissing Aegon's forehead softly, by the grace of the gods her son's eyes seem to blink longer.

— Are you going to stay until I sleep? — he asks, holding her hand firmly, two fingers trapped between her small hand.

— Sure honey. — she whispers back.

Aegon is still slow to sleep, never seeming to find a comfortable position and never letting go of her hand for more than two seconds.

Alicent's back hurts when she gets up, but that's normal, considering Aemond looks like a big baby, and with a moon until her - maybe - last child is to be born, everything seems to hurt, from her legs to her fingers.

— Ser Rickard, put Helaena to bed. — she orders the royal guard to stand in the doorway, the man enters the room without much fanfare and Alicent rubs her back with a grimace.

— My queen. — begins Ser Arryk, looking hesitant. — Ser Criston said he would await you in his office, he also said it was urgent and he would not leave without speaking to you.

Alicent stifles another grimace.

As much as she managed to change things, like killing Larys Strong, and Rhaenyra's ladies-in-waiting, and Daemon as Lord Hand, some things, like Ser Criston Cole and killing her father - because seriously, who escapes trained assassins eight times - seem to be immutable.

Ser Criston Cole was nothing less than an uncontrollable pest who refused to leave Rhaenyra's side and looked at Alicent as if she were the Stranger come to take his eldest daughter's soul.

And it all got worse after Criston - at Rhaenyra's insistence that Alicent couldn't stop - was named Lord Commander after Ser Harrold's death, he was paranoid, and only put Ser Rickard on as a second guard to the Queen after her third pregnancy was announced.

For some reason, and a reason Alicent would never know, Ser Criston Cole was the only one smart enough to suspect that Alicent Hightower was not really who she claimed to be.

At the same time as it was comical, it was desperate, because Ser Criston Cole was nothing more than a glorified guard who had the sheer luck of being noticed by a princess and given a white cloak as a reward for being a good puppy and still, an idiot realized that Alicent was not what she said she was.

Alicent stiffens her back in the few hallways she has to turn before entering her office, she takes a deep breath and tries to control her racing heart, Ser Criston Cole can be intimidating, but Scarlett Jones, Alicent Hightower, whatever her name is, is not going to be bullied by a man nicknamed the Kingmaker.

She takes a deep breath before stepping into her solar, Ser Criston is on his feet, looking very nervous, and yet very determined he is standing in the middle of the room, he bows and mutters something very much like my Queen and Alicent sits in the chair, doing her best not to show her discomfort.

— Ser Arryk, Ser Rickard, you may go. — she says, waving her hand, as if she weren't worried, Ser Rickard leaves immediately, Ser Arryk hesitates for a few moments and Alicent would almost smile, if she weren't so worried.

— I know what you're doing. — says Ser Criston, just as the door is closed and Alicent's blood is roaring in her ears, rising in her head and muffling all sound in the world. — I know you've been keeping Rhaenyra's friendship and pretending to be her mate and waiting for a slip up to put Aegon on the Iron Throne.

This was probably the most bullshit Alicent has heard since she was reborn into the insane world of George R.R. Martin and once she heard a maester tell Viserys that Helaena needed whipping to get her madness out of her head.

— I've spoken with your father, Lord Otto…—  and of course, of course the old viper had something to do with it, even far from the capital, Otto was a pest Alicent couldn't get rid of. — And he told me his plans, said I was to seek him out if there was anything I could report that would devastate Rhaenyra's reputation, when I did not find him, I came to you, you are right in making Aegon heir, my Queen.

— And what did you find, Ser Criston? — she asks, with interest - even as nausea rises in her throat - even though she knows what he's likely to say, and she almost beats herself up for forgetting Rhaenyra and Daemon's fateful night in the brothels, she admits, to herself, which has been difficult lately, she feels tired and in pain and Rhaenyra was so sweet and attached to her ladies-in-waiting that she had spent less and less time with her oldest child.

And she thought she had more time, after all Rhaenyra was still looking for a husband, even if Ser Laenor was the safest bet she still had time for that to happen, she thought she had more time.

What, after all, is time for someone who is in another world and almost a thousand years out of her reality?

— I heard it from very reliable sources. — Ser Criston begins hesitantly, as if Alicent doesn't know exactly what has happened. — That the Princess Rhaenyra went out to walk the brothels of the Street of Silk, that she was seen performing an unbecoming scene with her uncle, Prince Daemon, in plain sight.

Ser Criston's tone turns grave, as if Rhaenyra isn't just a seventeen-year-old girl.

What she did was wrong, of course, Rhaenyra was a Princess, the Crown Princess on top of that, everyone was looking at her like she was a bacteria under a microscope, but at the same time, Rhaenyra was a seventeen-year-old Princess, all she wanted was to not to be a Princess and to experience the world like a normal person.

And Daemon, don't get her started on Daemon, the silly, stupid, idiot, arrogant, dumb Daemon.

— And then, Ser Criston? — asks Alicent, leaning forward, if she's going to do what she's thinking, Ser Criston needs to be as clear as possible.

— And then her uncle abandoned her…— Criston makes a sound of disgust, this has always been about Daemon and not Rhaenyra's rejection. — And the Princess seduced me, made me enter her room with her sweet words and courteous manners, she took away my honor and dishonored the very family she lives in, the spoiled girl is not ready to be Queen, she cannot even be a princess, I want her to be ruined.

— Is that all, Ser Criston? — she asks gravely, crossing her fingers over her chin.

— No. — the man replies, looking very embarrassed. — I suggested that she marry me, that we flee to Essos and live a simple life, as a way of restoring my honor and hers, but she refused, said she couldn't shirk her responsibilities, as if she had any. - he scoffs, nearly spitting on the floor.

— We will settle this, Ser Criston. — she says, calmly, when the man calms down and his face doesn't look so red anymore. — We'll sort that out now, actually. — she says, the man's face breaking into such an expression of happiness that Alicent almost, almost feels sorry for him.

She rises from her comfortable chair - hiding her wince, Aemond is her worst pregnancy yet - and walks to the door, opening it and going far enough so that she can speak to Ser Arryk.

— Ser Arryk. — she calls out in a whisper, the Kingsguard responds immediately, looking at her with worried eyes. — Bring me the sharpest scissors you can find right away.

Whatever Ser Arryk sees on her face is a clear indication that he will do her bidding, even if it pains him to do so, even if it is something against his brother in arms, Alicent's heart drums in her chest as she watches Ser Arryk's straight back disappear down the hall.

— Ser Rickard. — she says, still in a whisper, the knight looks intently at her, shock running across her face. — When Ser Arryk returns, I want the two of you to go into that room and hold Ser Criston Cole as if he were a criminal who tried to kill the King.

Ser Rickard, the man of few words, tilts his head to the side, eyes hard and nods just once, whatever Ser Rickard saw, whatever Alicent or Criston did, it was enough for two Kingsguard to side with her.

— Thank you, Ser Criston, for telling me of your concerns. — She smiles gently at him, as she enters the room the knight smiles back, looking a little relieved, a little anxious. — Do you want some wine? For the nerves? — she offers sweetly.

Take it, she thinks grimly, for this will be the last time you drink wine with a tongue.

— Of course, my Queen. — he replies, looking relieved, Alicent fills a glass and passes it to him. — I would offer you my loyalty, if you'd accept, you're helping me when no one else could.

— I would gladly accept it, Ser Criston. — she smiles, almost pitying the man in front of her, it's almost funny how Criston Cole is a pathetic man, blaming a teenage girl for his rejection, turning the other way when slighted and after that, committing treason when trying to crown Aegon as King.

They are silent then, for what seems like an eternity, Ser Criston has finished his wine and holds the goblet in his hands, his head bowed, he looks young like that, very young, and yet, he is the man who would help to bring down a dynasty.

Surprisingly, the silence between them is comfortable, in another life, Ser Criston would be Queen Alicent's biggest supporter, in this one, Alicent is the woman who will make Ser Criston an enemy held close to her chest.

The door opens and Ser Arryk and Ser Rickard enter the room. Ser Criston looks up, surprised for a moment, not seeing Rhaenyra, Viserys, or Daemon.

He doesn't have time to react, not when Ser Rickard grabs him by one arm and Ser Arryk by the other, Ser Arryk is quick to snatch Ser Criston's sword from its scabbard and throw it across the room, one-handed. Gloved, Ser Arryk holds out a pair of sharp-tipped scissors with a shining blade.

— My Queen…— Ser Criston begins, looking startled. — What are you doing?

— I thank you, Ser Criston. — Alicent begins, planning a short speech, after all, villains who talk too much always die early. — For telling me all your concerns about the Crown Princess, but the real concern here is you.

— I… my Queen I…

— You spoke ill of the Princess, did unspeakable things when you should have been protecting her, a girl of ten and seven, and then you come here, call her spoiled, insinuate that she is arrogant, unfit to be Queen, say you want to see her ruined and want to crown Prince Aegon as King. — She says all this in one breath, opening and closing the silver scissors in her hands. — I think the problem here, Ser Criston, is you, and I might as well kill you, but Rhaenyra would be pissed at me and I don't usually kill helpless rats.

Ser Criston, for a moment, seems to see the hole he's put himself in, the hole he dug himself with the help of Otto Hightower, a powerless second son who had nothing to his name but fathering Queen Alicent.

— I can't kill you, Ser Criston, but I can make you shut the fuck up.

Cutting out Ser Criston Cole's tongue would be a lot easier if he didn't move around so much.

Putting a pair of sewing scissors in a man's mouth is not as easy as it sounds and no man would willingly lose his tongue so she improvises, Ser Criston is a furious thing, moving back and forth with his mouth closed, he realized, quickly, what Alicent would do when the scissors came close to his cheek.

Ser Arryk apparently was more on Alicent's side than she ever thought, because with his free hand, he clamps down on Ser Criston's jaw until he opens his mouth in a misshapen circle.

The scissors make a long squawk sound as they close over Ser Criston's fleshy tongue.

The tip of the tongue lands on the floor with a popping sound, followed by the strange moan of a man without a tongue, followed by the spray of blood splattering onto Alicent's dress.

The silver blade of the scissors is red with blood and Alicent feels blood roaring in her ears, the world seems a little darker and her heart feels like a war drum being beaten.

— Ser Rickard, take Ser Criston to a Maester. — she says, leaning on the table, her hands feel cold and sweaty, the scissors slipping out of her hand. — And then find Otto, make him leave King's Landing immediately, even if you have to escort him to Oldtown.

— My queen. — Ser Rickard replies, with a nod, dragging Criston outside.

— Ser Arryk, I need you to find Vi…

—  My queen. — Ser Arryk interrupts, and Alicent is so surprised that he actually said something that she doesn't care that he interrupts her. — You're bleeding, I think your baby is coming.

Alicent looks down and a blood pools under her feet, she didn't even realize she was bleeding but thinks she should have, because the world is funneled, her head is dizzy and she looks heavy.

Whether Alicent wants it or not, it looks like Aemond Targaryen is coming into the world, and at the worst possible time.