Chapter 1: I Did It, I Left You
Chapter Text
Day 31
Alicent Hightower stood by the train tracks, one hand on her belly and the other holding a small suitcase, still unable to believe that nearly fifteen years of her life fit into such a small space. If she looked like the protagonist of an old movie, they'd be right. Maybe it was the dark green trench coat that gave her that mysterious air, or maybe it was the hat with the veil.
Maybe it was dramatic, but it was her style and one of the few things her father allowed her to have. The most colorful thing about her was her lips, red as blood, red as the colors of the man she loved, and red as the pair of tickets resting on the dresser of a house that was no longer hers.
They were a gift.
Daemon had terrible musical taste; in life, he would never go with her to a bolero concert… and she knew that well when she bought them, yet she did it anyway… they weren't a gift for Daemon, it was a gift for herself, a farewell gift, a gift that said it was time to leave.
With her free hand, she pulls her old iPod and headphones from her pocket.
The journey ahead of her is going to be long and she'll need music to endure it.
She turns it on, searches through all her songs until she finds the one that's been in her head since she left home, ending a years-long marriage that never should have been.
I did it, I left you
I did it and I walked away
Crying and without thinking
If it was wrong or if it was right
And even though I miss you sometimes
It's the smoke of what once wasI did it, I left you
What we had is gone
The strength in my hands ran out
And I let you go
We carried so much life
Having each other was only losingBut if someone asks me if I loved you
I'll only know how to say that I adored you
There's no need to interpret my scars
My silence explains exactly how it was
But if someone asks me if I loved you
I'll only know how to say how much I loved you
I'll tell them that we were once happy
And no one here can deny that I triedI did it, I left you
I did it and I walked away
The strength in my hands ran out
And I let you go
We carried so much life
Having each other was only losingBut if someone asks me if I loved you
I'll only know how to say that I adored you
There's no need to interpret my scars
My silence explains exactly how it was
But if someone asks me if I loved you
I'll only know how to say how much I loved you
I'll tell them that we were once happy
And no one here can deny that I tried
The train arrives and she gets on without looking back; after so much pain and so much betrayal, there's no point in waiting. She looks for her seat as the music plays in the background and her eyes fill with tears.
Divorced.
She is divorced. Her husband slept with her best friend, and she is the one who has to leave. She hates him. She hates them… but she hates herself more, because despite everything, she still loves them, because she has no idea how to live now, because she doesn't know how to be anything other than loyal to them, because for years all she did was try to save a marriage and a friendship that no longer exist.
She can't take it and, leaving her suitcase by the seat, she runs to the bathroom, throws up the little she has eaten, and there on the floor, shattered and disheveled, she finally breaks down in tears.
Chapter 2: I Never Lied to You
Chapter Text
Day 01
The house that Viserys gave them as a wedding gift was an old house in an exclusive area of the city, far from the Targaryen family mansion and from the Hightower residence in the city; the architecture of centuries past combined well with the decoration and with his wife.
Viserys had made a mistake in arranging that marriage; his hatred for Otto was the least of his concerns. The real problem was that he, as a Targaryen, deserved a wife of his own race, of his blood and ancestry; marrying him to a sheep was a humiliation, an affront to everything he believed in and was.
Viserys had Aemma, even if it was for a short time—a cousin who, although half-blood, was Targaryen in appearance and descended from the same family tree. Aemma was a dragon, and his brother dared to give him crumbs and order him to be content with that. He didn't do it then, and he won't do it now… not with Rhaenyra in the picture.
His niece was his wife's best friend for years; he met them both when they were little, maybe that's why Viserys thought he could get along with the little Hightower girl. His brother, as always, was wrong. He doesn't doubt for a second that it was all Otto's idea, that damn creeping vermin was ambitious and obsessed with being part of their family.
After Aemma's death, the Hightowers weren't the only ones who threw their daughters in front of his brother with the intention that he take a new wife. Maybe they are no longer kings as in days of old, but they are still one of the most powerful families in the entire world. Otto's plan worked halfway; Alicent did catch his brother's attention, but not for himself, rather for his younger brother. "It's a good match, Daemon. You need a real wife, and Alicent is the perfect lady for that."
After finally managing to divorce Rhea, he thought he would be free or at least could look for a worthy wife. He was wrong. Viserys had other plans, and as head of the family, he couldn't disobey him without suffering consequences. Maybe in other times they would have exiled him; that would be better than being disinherited and having all his accounts frozen. He has too peculiar a lifestyle and too many enemies to end up with nothing and without a surname.
He calls Alicent, but she doesn't answer.
She's probably at the Sept praying or having tea with her insufferable father. His wife does nothing else; even in that, she's simple-minded. At least she doesn't bother him. Alicent is a good trophy wife; she's not like Rhea, who didn't respect him. Alicent Hightower is an obedient sheep. She's not so insignificant as to consider her just another servant, but she will never be a real wife.
Alicent will never be Rhaenyra.
Today he's going to ask his wife for a divorce. He holds an envelope with the papers that Wylde gave him. He'll do the right thing and be a free man. Viserys will forgive him. His brother always forgives him. They are Targaryens; they have specific and "exceptional" laws that date back centuries. His relationship with Rhaenyra will be a scandal, but sooner or later they'll get over it.
Rhaenyra is pregnant. He can't allow his child to be born a bastard. What are six years of marriage and a fight with Viserys compared to Rhaenyra's love and the birth of his firstborn?
He observes the living room carefully for the first time. He knows Alicent sometimes holds gatherings there. He's never attended. It's one thing to have been forced to marry; it's quite another for him to agree or, worse yet, act as if the marriage were real.
The furniture is dark wood, perhaps ebony, and worn by time. He finds it hard to admit, but there's an air not only of antiquity but of melancholy.
He doesn't remember his wedding to the Hightower woman. He was drunk the whole time. Mysaria gave him a memorable night as a bachelor party, and he arrived hungover at the wedding. Alicent said nothing; Otto had to hold back from yelling at him. He remembers seeing his face red with rage. It was a good moment, maybe the best part of the whole wedding farce. He fucked his new wife thinking of another. Whether he said another woman's name when he deflowered the little green woman, no one said anything. At least Alicent knows how to stay quiet.
He goes up the stairs that lead to the upper floor where the bedrooms are. It's a house with many rooms. "For all my nieces and nephews," Viserys said… None. They will never, ever be used for that. He has barely shared a bed with his wife a couple of times. Alicent might be attractive to some, but not to him. The little woman is Andal, not Valyrian. There's no way he can see her as anything more than a sheep.
The main bedroom, the one they were supposedly meant to share, has been empty for years. He has his own room, and Alicent has another. The rest of the rooms are closed. The maids, however, keep all the rooms clean and dust-free. The few times he's been in this house, it feels like a ghost world. It's a house too big for a couple of people who don't even see each other.
He enters Alicent's room. His wife doesn't use locks. Once, he thinks, she told him it was because she had nothing to hide and that her duty as a wife was to share everything with him. Even in that, the sheep is submissive. Otto raised a pathetic daughter with no ideas of her own. Alicent would be better off in a convent, kneeling before statues of gods that don't exist, or obeying some decrepit old man who claims to speak for the Faith.
The room is full of vintage objects. That's one of the few things he knows about his wife. Alicent likes old things. There are rotary phones, pendulum clocks, vinyl records, a record player, and black-and-white photographs. One photo stands out among all of them: Alicent Hightower and her mother smiling, dressed in period clothing. He remembers that era—the craze for themed photo shoots.
The windows have lace curtains that filter the sunlight diffusely. There are some indoor plants that bring a bit of life and green color to the predominantly dark and earthy environment. There's an old velvet sofa and a coffee table with yellowed-leaf books.
The wardrobe is open. Elegant suits and classic dresses are visible. There are too many in green. They should be black or red. The vanity is organized. Rhaenyra always has her makeup messy; she uses something for a moment and then leaves it. Rhaenyra is perfect and beautiful; she doesn't need makeup and hairstyles like Alicent.
A sheep can never compare to a dragon… yet he knows he must do the right thing and speak face to face with Alicent. He will end his marriage, and although he doesn't care one bit for the little woman, he's not going to be a coward who ends things by phone or text message.
Maybe he could never love her. How could he? But he doesn't hate her. He hates her father—that's different.
He approaches Alicent's bed and sits down. He leaves the envelope on a nightstand. The bed has a high headboard of dark wood, carved with intricate floral designs. A cream lace quilt, delicately woven with more floral patterns. There are several decorative pillows of different sizes and a few thick-knit cushions. At least the pillows aren't green but burgundy and beige, some with silk covers and others with velvet. At the foot of the bed, a handmade crochet blanket is carefully folded. He doesn't know if Alicent knitted it herself. Rhaenyra hates knitting or sewing; his niece is a force of nature, never one to sit still doing something as mundane as being a housewife.
He's thinking about Rhaenyra when he hears Alicent arrive. Her footsteps are light, but the stairs are old and creak. He senses Alicent stopping at the bedroom door. He supposes seeing him there is a surprise.
The little woman recovers quickly and, following her role as the perfect wife, welcomes him and asks how his day was. Pathetic! Does she really think she has the right to address him that way? They are nothing! They have never been a marriage. She is just an obstacle, another burden imposed by his brother, another failed plan of Otto's. He's fed up with her and her courtesy. He's tired of seeing her act as if they lived in a fairy tale when they barely know each other. It's the lies Alicent tells the world about their relationship that exhaust him. "Oh, Daemon is a wonderful husband… yes, he doesn't spend as much time at home as he'd like, but it's because of his work… oh, no, Daemon couldn't come to the party because he had work, but he sends his congratulations…"
Alicent is talking, and he hasn't listened to her. She's probably saying something about whether they'll have dinner together. It's time. With a gesture of his hand, he silences her.
"I want a divorce."
Alicent looks at him, bewildered. He understands that such a direct request might surprise her, but what did she expect? He was forced to marry, and from the very beginning, he was honest with her: he didn't want her, he never would, they would never be husband and wife. The end of their marriage was clear long before he put a ring on her finger.
He picks up the envelope from where he left it.
"The papers are ready. You just need to sign. Despite the prenup, I'll allocate you an allowance, and you can keep the house."
The little woman barely moves; she just sobs. Weak. Rhaenyra would never react like that. Rhaenyra is fire that devastates everything in its path, a true dragon.
He places the envelope on the nightstand again.
"Tomorrow I'll come for the papers."
He walks around the little woman and is about to leave the room when he feels someone grab his arm. Alicent is crying and asks him not to leave. He frees himself easily; the little woman isn't just weak-minded but also weak-bodied. He looks at her, and she's pale and thin.
"Alicent, there's no point in prolonging this. I want a divorce, and I'll have it with or without you."
He manages to reach the front door, Alicent running behind him. Seeing her like this makes him pity her, or at least that's what he feels until the little woman starts shouting that if he leaves, she won't sign the divorce papers. He knows he shouldn't, but Alicent needs to know the truth so she'll leave him alone. His wife has spent years trying to get his niece to forgive her.
"Rhaenyra is pregnant, and it's mine."
Alicent says nothing for a couple of minutes, then exhales, and looking at her, it seems to him as if she is truly tired.
"I know," she says as she retreats to sit on one of the steps of the stairs. She laughs, but it's the laugh of someone who has already given up. "I knew. I knew about your relationship. I've known for a long time. If you want a divorce, I'll accept it."
To say he's surprised is an understatement. Alicent is a Hightower. He doesn't understand how she can be so calm with the revelation about Rhaenyra. How does she know? How long has she known? Has she told anyone else? Does Otto know?
Alicent looks him in the eyes, and it seems to him that it's the first time in years he's truly looked at her. She doesn't resemble the little friend who used to follow Rhaenyra around like a lapdog, but neither does she resemble the woman who appears in society magazines as a trophy wife.
"I only ask one thing of you, Daemon. Give me one month."
He looks at her with confusion. She laughs again, and when she looks at him, he feels she's not looking at him. Alicent sighs and is silent for a couple of seconds.
"You are my husband, but in these six years, we've barely said hello to each other. I want a real marriage, even if it's fake." Alicent laughs, and finally, it's a real laugh, like someone who has heard a good joke, or a joke so bad it's good. "Gods, I love the irony of that sentence."
Alicent continues.
"I'm a Hightower, Daemon. My family is devout. They don't believe in divorce or second chances. As soon as I sign those papers, I'll be nothing but an outcast. They'll send me to some sept to hide the shame I've brought upon my family. I'll never be able to marry again, never have children or a home of my own."
He knows what she says is true. Everyone knows the kind of conservative and backward upbringing they have in Oldtown.
"But that's my dream: a husband who loves me and children to love. I promised my mother, Daemon… I don't want to fail her… even if it's a lie, I want to fulfill my dream… it's not much time. Give me one month in exchange for the loyalty and obedience I've given you for years… a lie for thirty days in exchange for your freedom. Be my husband for one month, and I'll sign the papers. You won't have to give me anything—not an allowance, not the house. You also won't have to worry about me telling others the truth. I won't speak about you or Rhaenyra, no matter what happens. Just thirty days, please."
It's a good deal. If he feels a twinge of guilt, he won't say it. Alicent looks defeated. There's no pleasure in attacking an enemy who has already surrendered.
He asks her what being a real marriage entails. The little woman answers him, and it's not much that she asks; still, it's going to be hard for him. He's not a good actor, and he's never been a real husband—not with Alicent, not with Rhea—but he knows he can do it. A trial would be too public, and he has no doubt that as soon as Otto finds out about the divorce, he'll make his life hell. Alicent's offer of silence and cooperation is too good to let go.
He approaches Alicent and extends his hand. She takes it, and they seal the deal.
Chapter 3: Doll Eyes
Chapter Text
Day 02
Doll Eyes
She can count on one hand the times she has woken up with Daemon beside her, and she'd have fingers left over… it's only been two… the morning after their wedding night and the morning after the night her marriage came to an end.
Formalities aside, her marriage, for her, is already over. Whether a judge or a piece of paper says they are divorced and makes it official in a registry doesn't really matter to her.
Daemon thinks she's silly and boring. She doesn't blame him; she's not the kind of woman who would catch the attention of a man like him. She's not Rhaenyra, she's Alicent, and Alicent is not a dragon. Alicent is a sheep… she doesn't mind that her husband (ex-husband) calls her a sheep. She likes sheep; they're cute animals, small and gentle, they don't bother anyone, they graze and play freely in the field, they are cared for and they are useful, they give wool and meat to those who look after them.
Maybe, in some alternate universe, she would be a sheep and wouldn't have to worry about anything more than living her life hopping around in a green meadow.
She doesn't want to be a dragon. Dragons scare her.
She likes the idea of being a sheep. She would be Alicent-sheep and have little pink bows on her ears, and in the cold season they would put a warm coat on her.
Alicent-sheep would look adorable, unlike Alicent-person who looks like a disaster while thinking about what she'll do on her second day of marriage. Yes, second. Daemon and she started the count yesterday after a very awkward meeting and an improvised dinner on the living room floor. It wasn't very polite or elegant of her, but she had to eat something before taking her pills, and she didn't feel like cooking or having staff at home. She couldn't risk someone finding out what she and Daemon were planning… or worse, telling her father.
After he accepted her proposal to give their marriage one more month of life in exchange for her accepting the divorce voluntarily and without making trouble, they talked about what "a month of real marriage" entailed. She made him a list, and he accepted it.
It was a simple list, not very long, too cliché and traditional, exactly what she had once dreamed of. It was a list she had been building for years… she started making it with her mother, before she died; it was one of the few things they could do together in the hospital.
She misses Mom every day. She loves Father and Gwayne, but Mom left a void that could never be filled. It wasn't fair to lose her so young, but over time she came to understand it; cancer respects neither age nor social status. She misses Mom.
Mom saw her for who she was, not for how useful she could be. Mom was the one who helped her get her first summer job. "Don't be like me, sweetheart, don't depend on a man. You must work and have your own money and your own things."
Otto Hightower is not a bad man or a bad father; he has put a roof over her head and a plate of food on her table. It's more than many in the world will ever have… it's just that he's not an easy person to deal with, and being his daughter is complicated.
Father is still upset with her for failing and not getting Viserys to choose her. When the Targaryen CEO said he wouldn't take another wife, she felt free, until the rumors about an engagement with Daemon began. She didn't want to marry him either. She knew him by sight as the uncle of her best friend, but that was all. She had no interest in him; she was happy fulfilling her duties and being Rhaenyra's friend. She had a good life.
She was happy, but then came the engagement and the wedding, and she did what she had to do. A wife must love her husband; it was part of the vows spoken in the Sept, and she fulfilled them. She learned, she taught herself, to love Daemon.
Daemon was her husband, and she was going to keep her vows and promises. That he didn't was another matter.
And now it was time to start the day. Well, early morning.
She didn't wake Daemon; she needed him to sleep a little longer so she could make breakfast in peace. Her first morning as a wife had to be perfect even if she had forced it. She went to the guest room that was farthest away to get ready without the noise waking her husband.
She brushed her teeth, took a quick cold shower, did her skincare routine (which may or may not be somewhat obsessive, like in that teen series Gwayne watches, (euphoria, euphemistic, elitist, no idea, Gwayne watches weird things), brushed her hair, and did "natural" makeup. Then she put her robe back on and went down to the kitchen and prepared something simple but nutritious.
The perfect image of a housewife.
When Daemon came down, he was still in his pajamas. He looked at her, still with strangeness, but remembering what they had agreed, he approached her, kissed her, and told her he loved her. Whether he was surprised by her appearance or not, he didn't say; he just asked, "When did you have time to do all this?" referring to the food. She didn't respond, just kissed him. She didn't think it was relevant to tell him that since they got engaged, she had taken cooking and nutrition courses to make him good meals. Gods, she even took lessons in Valyrian food, or well, what has survived to this day.
They ate while talking about their day and what they had to do.
Daemon said he had a couple of meetings in the morning, due to problems in the Stepstones, and that he would spend the afternoon trying to coordinate with his personal assistant his scheduled activities for the month with the things she had asked for on her list… and that then he had to talk to Rhaenyra.
There was an awkward silence that she broke by saying it was fine, that it was fair and necessary for Rhaenyra to know what they were going to do so she wouldn't get the wrong idea, that they had to be honest with her for the baby's sake. Besides, she also had things to do; she had a couple of prior commitments and also had to take care of clearing her schedule to be free for the month.
In the end, Daemon said that since they would be spending the whole day out, to make up for it, they could either have lunch together or go out to dinner or watch a movie at night.
She chooses to go to dinner, and then Daemon leaves, and she continues with her day.
She had to go to the hospital. Since Mom's death, she had become very aware of her health, maybe even bordering on hypochondria, but it was useful; they detected her cancer in the early stages.
She hasn't told Daemon and doesn't plan to. Her health is hers; it's a private matter she wants to keep as hidden as possible. Dad suffered a lot when Mom got sick; she doesn't want to worry him. She doubts Daemon cares.
Only Gwayne knows she has breast cancer and that she had already planned her admission to a specialized center in Braavos to begin a more aggressive treatment. She's been on hormone therapy for a couple of months, but although it works, it doesn't work as well as expected. Maybe she's being biased, but she really wants the doctor who treated Mom to attend to her, and if that means going to Braavos, then she'll go.
Only now, instead of leaving in two weeks, she'll leave in a month. But it's okay. Unlike the story that inspired her to ask Daemon for a chance, she won't die. Hers won't be like that story where the husband asks for a divorce, the wife tells him to carry her every day like when they got married, and they fall in love again. Hers is not a love story, and that's okay with her. She just wants to fulfill the promise she made to Mom and to the gods… so that when she dies and goes to heaven, she can see the Seven Who Are One and tell them she tried with all her might.
When her month with Daemon is over, she'll go to Braavos, follow her treatment to the letter, get well, and have a full and happy life. She'll meet a good man and have a couple of cute kids to love, a house near the beach, and if possible, a little dog. It's sad that after her divorce she won't be able to marry again under her faith. The Faith of the Seven does not accept the end of a religious marriage unless it's through annulment or the death of the other spouse.
And she's not going to die.
In the end, she didn't have as many problems at the hospital as she expected. Well, there were problems with referrals, documents, and exams she had to send to the clinic in Braavos, but nothing her credit card couldn't solve. She didn't marry Daemon for money, but she won't deny that having access to an unlimited account like the rest of the Targaryens is a huge relief.
She leaves the hospital and heads straight to the airport to keep spending. She doesn't mind economy class, but it's much more comfortable to go first class even if it's only for a few hours. Like every month when she feels she can't take it anymore, she takes the first flight she finds to Oldtown to see Mom.
Finally, calm. She takes out her phone and reviews the list she sent to Daemon:
Carry me every day when crossing the threshold of the house upon leaving and entering (yes, I know, it's the same as in that story that circulates on the internet, but I still want it)
Give me a kiss and tell me "I love you" every day when waking up and when going to sleep (even if you don't feel it)
Make a photo album of our life together (wedding photos don't count; they must be new)Exchange letters expressing gratitude and love (using AI or having someone else do it for you is prohibited; if they are from books, that's acceptable)
You must invite me to a romantic dinner with my favorite dishes, candles, and music, and at the end we dance together (Filet Mignon with Red Wine Sauce / if you can do dessert too: lemon cake)
Escape for a weekend to a quiet town in the mountains or to the beach (no camping, please. The Lannisters have a wonderful agency with pre-arranged packages)
Have coffee in Oldtown, at the bar near the Lighthouse that has a drawing of a dog with glasses and a magic wand (no, I don't know the name, only those details)
Go to the market to do the monthly shopping (and you carry the bags)
Go together to Mass at the Sept (includes good behavior and not using your phone during the entire service)
Give me a piece of jewelry engraved with a special message (if for some reason you give me a necklace like the one you gave Rhaenyra, I swear by all the gods I will melt it down, sell it, and donate the proceeds to the NGO run by the Royces)Go to Lady Redwine's charity ball (you will dance with me, yes or yes; and you will tell everyone what a good wife I am, how much you love me, and that we are a happy marriage)
Wear matching outfits (we can go buy them together)Get a tattoo together (no dragons, butterflies, infinity symbols, or phrases in Valyrian)
Have an orgasm that makes me cry (I will not give explanations about this, and NO, WE WILL NOT DISCUSS IT)
Have a date at a museum or art gallery (if you're going to complain, do it silently)
Go together to a game, any sport, and get jerseys signed by the players (no wet t-shirts, no animal fighting)
Go to a concert of one of my favorite bands
Make one or several donations to the shelters I sponsor (you will pose for photos and if necessary, give a nice speech)
Have a family dinner at home with our families (BOTH families, and be civilized with my father; you can't bother Gwayne either)
Record a video doing some couple's trending topic
Buy me a star and name it after me
Go leave flowers at Mom's grave
Sign us up for a cooking or painting class
Sign us up as a team for some board game championship
Go to the club and play a couple of mixed doubles tennis matches (I won't complain if you're aggressive and cause an injury to Lady Celtigar)
Give me flowers and stuffed animals
Have a movie marathon, with popcorn and a cozy blanket
Have a spa day at home with massages, bubble baths, and skincare
No physical infidelity (just for this month)
(............................) I'll probably think of one or several more things, so this space is left blank; I'll tell you in advance anyway.
It's a small list and not very complicated. It won't be difficult to fulfill most of what's there. If she were a little braver, she would have put more sexual things, like the Mile High Club, taking advantage of being on a plane.
Mysaria and Daemon's lovers, the times she's run into them when Daemon brings them home, have told her Daemon was very good in bed.
But she's not that bold, and besides, for her, a marriage is more about emotional connection than good sex. Not that her marriage ever gave her either one. Maybe her second marriage will be better.
Gwayne says she could have that even without being married. She once thought about it, but she doesn't want to be unfaithful to Daemon even if he is and has gotten Rhaenyra pregnant. Besides, dating apps scare her. With her luck, she'll end up with some obsessive psychopath or worse, someone who blackmails her by making their affair public.
The only time she tried, before getting married, she had a bad experience. Well, two. Larys Strong still scares her, and Criston Cole, although he paid attention to her at first, as soon as he met Rhaenyra, he friend-zoned her. Which is fine because now he's one of her best friends.
Her marriage to Daemon irreversibly broke her relationship with Rhaenyra but brought her closer to Criston and Gwayne. They are her best friends, her family.
The plane arrives at its destination without incident. She takes a taxi and goes to the cemetery where the remains of the Hightower family members rest. It's a nice cemetery, full of flowers and trees. She buys two flower arrangements and goes to the area where Ceryse rests. She only knows her from stories, but she likes to visit her grave. Maybe it's because they are alike, although Daemon is not Maegor, not yet, at least. She leaves one of the bouquets and says a small prayer.
Then, with the remaining bouquet, she goes to see Mom. She sits on the grass and tells her what happened and the decisions she has made. She feels the breeze caressing her hair and knows Mom is there with her. She feels less alone.
It gets dark, and she knows it's time to leave. She must get back in time to go to dinner with Daemon.
She takes a taxi back to the airport, takes another flight, and some time later she's back in the capital. She checks her phone and sees that Daemon sent her a message with the address of the restaurant where he made the reservation.
She goes home, changes, puts on a nice dress, and goes to the restaurant. It's not a very fancy or elegant place, but it looks nice and cozy. The background music they've put on is beautiful. She waits and waits until she realizes that Daemon isn't going to come. The waiters look at her with pity, and she endures it like the well-mannered lady she is. She's about to leave when one of Mom's favorite songs starts playing.
… Don't look at me with your doll eyes
That invite me to play
I've been watching you look for flowers
All throughout the city…
She takes a deep breath. The song continues, and it feels like a hug. She does what a lady must do; she doesn't cry or make a scene. On the contrary, she calls one of the waiters and asks to be moved to a smaller table and to bring her the menu again.
Her date with Daemon won't happen. Fine, she'll have a date with herself. It's his loss.
Chapter 4: Serenades by the Sea
Chapter Text
Chapter 5: Burn Me
Chapter Text
Day 04
Burn Me
Strange.
It feels strange.
Not uncomfortable, just strange.
Daemon is still asleep, and he's the big spoon while she's the little spoon. It feels too hot on her back, and he has an erection.
Strange.
He's her husband; it's supposed to be normal for them to sleep like this, but it's not. The few times they've shared a bed, each stayed on their own side.
For Daemon to have had an epiphany and now consider himself an octopus… It doesn't make sense.
They were supposed to be fighting. She got upset and went to sleep in one of the guest rooms. So how the hell did they end up like this? When did Daemon get into bed with her? And why the hell is he naked? What would it have cost him to put on pajamas or at least boxers?
She tries to move and untangle herself from Daemon, but as soon as he feels her move, he holds her tighter.
It's been over an hour like this.
It must be karma or dharma, or one of those Eastern things Gwayne knows about.
Shit.
She needs to talk to Gwayne. He went ahead to Braavos to prepare everything for when she's admitted. He and Criston had decided to accompany her for the duration of the treatment. They were going to be roommates and have a life full of adventures.
"Don't think you'll get rid of me that easily, little sister. You need me to make you laugh. Besides, I already have a plan. When your hair falls out, I'll shave mine in solidarity and stream it live. It'll go viral, and I'll finally become an influencer and get my little plaque."
"Alicent, you saved my life years ago. The least I can do is accompany you in this time of need. You gave my life new meaning and restored my honor. I will never leave you alone."
Oh, Gods. How is she going to tell them that she's delayed her trip because she's giving Daemon another chance? Well, it's not another chance; it's more like a small lapse. If she explains it properly, they'll understand, right? Why would they judge her? Just for having hope that, at least for a short time, her marriage could be a marriage?
Who is she kidding? Gwayne and Criston are going to be upset with her, and rightfully so.
For years they've been telling her to go to therapy and get a divorce. That her almost non-existent relationship with Daemon isn't a marriage and that she deserves better. That staying married to someone out of fear of what people will say or because no Hightower has ever divorced is no way to live.
That it was time to let go of the promise she made to Mom… That Mom wouldn't want to see her like this, clinging to something that never existed.
"Alicent, you're my sister, and you look like me, which means you're beautiful. You could have any man or woman at your feet. You don't need to keep clinging to the Targaryens. Rhaenyra or Daemon, it doesn't matter. You've already given them so much of yourself. It's time for you to find a life of your own. And if Dad opposes it, well, the family tree also gets pruned."
"Alicent, please, leave Daemon. I know it's hard to start over, to accept that you failed and weren't enough. Believe me, I know. But sometimes there's no other choice. You're stronger than you think, and you're not alone. Take the first step, and then the path will be easier. Just as you were there for me, I'll be there for you."
It's not fair.
She already had a plan. She was going to leave for Braavos to treat her illness, and there, far from Father and the Targaryens, she was finally going to ask Daemon for a divorce. She would be far away; they couldn't do anything to her anymore.
She was going to rebuild her life.
She had looked into how to study at the university there. Her papers were already being processed. She even contacted a couple of therapists who were waiting for her arrival. She was going to reclaim what years of unattainable expectations had snatched from her.
She was going to have a career, a job, a partner, and in the future, a baby. A girl she would name after Mom. That was her dream. It was a simple dream, but for her, it was enough.
She had already planned it. It had taken her years to gather the courage to leave. Years.
And for what?
Daemon shook her world and ruined her plans.
It was one thing to disappear with elegance, without attracting anyone's attention, and then, even more discreetly, file for a divorce where she certainly wouldn't fight for anything… And something completely different was being publicly humiliated before society as the woman cheated on by a husband who had impregnated his niece, who coincidentally was her ex-best friend. The press would eat her alive, and that would make Father lock her away in Oldtown to avoid further scandal while he figured out how to profit from her disgrace.
In the worst-case scenario, he'd lock her in some cloistered sept and then forget he once had a daughter, and she could say goodbye to her dreams.
In the best case, Father would contest the divorce and drag her around as a poor victim until the Targaryens compensated her for the inconvenience, she'd become the face of a poor, selfless, devout woman, and Father could betroth her to someone else. With her luck, she'd end up repeating a marriage like the one she had with Daemon.
Negotiating with Daemon was the best option. Buying time to reduce the impact of the scandal sounded good.
She should have guessed that, as always, something would go wrong.
From day one, Daemon sabotaged her, and what was supposed to be a time of peace and, in the best case, a time of reconciliation before definitively parting on good terms, was turning into a living hell… And not even a week had passed!
And the worst part is that not only Daemon is against her, but fate as well. Yesterday he almost found out she met with Viserys and that yes, she had indeed told him about Daemon and Rhaenyra's relationship.
She had to improvise and lie. Two things she's not really good at.
She's tired of the dragons and the problems they got her into.
Stupid dragons.
"You think too loudly."
Daemon speaks, and she freezes. Shit. Did she think it or say it?
Oh no.
She tries to move, but Daemon doesn't let her and holds her even tighter. Think, Alicent, think.
"I have to go make breakfast."
She says it and hopes he'll let her go. It doesn't happen.
"It's very early. Keep sleeping."
After several attempts, she gives up and decides to sleep. If Daemon wants to see her without makeup and without all the treatments she puts on her face, well, that's his problem. When he sees how her hair gets when she wakes up, he'll regret it.
By the time she wakes up, she's alone in bed, and the sun is in full splendor. She hears a couple of curses and then several things falling… she runs to the kitchen and sees Daemon fighting with a couple of pots… and for some strange reason, there's an amorphous mass on the table that seems to be made of vegetables, flour, coffee, and other things she doesn't recognize. Something is burning in the oven.
Daemon sees her, she sees him. They look at each other without saying anything. Daemon breaks eye contact and, regaining control of the situation, says they'll eat out.
She just laughs.
At first, her laugh is imperceptible, but then it grows in intensity until it's laughter that echoes throughout the kitchen.
Daemon just looks at her and rolls his eyes.
"Oh, for all the gods, you're a disaster."
She keeps laughing until there are tears in her eyes. Daemon looks like an angry puppy. She likes seeing him like this. He doesn't seem like a dragon. He doesn't scare her.
She's going to ruin her clothes, but she doesn't care. She lies down on the floor and stares at the kitchen ceiling.
It's not how she expected to start the day, but she's not complaining. It's a memorable image.
Daemon doesn't seem to agree because moments later he lifts her up and, with a quick movement, throws her over his right shoulder like a sack of potatoes. With one hand, he holds her legs, and with the other, he spanks her.
"I told you to sleep."
He carries her to the room despite her screams and kicking. If he's given her a few more spanks along the way, well, she won't say it out loud. He throws her onto the bed and becomes an octopus again.
"Daemon! Stop! It's late. We can't stay in bed."
"Yes, we can."
"No, we can't."
"Yes, yes we can."
Their mini argument continues until she gives up. Daemon is the big spoon again, and she's the little spoon again. The difference is that now Daemon has his hands inside her clothes and is massaging her breasts while kissing her neck.
"Daemon, we have to eat something for breakfast."
She says it, but Daemon ignores her.
"Daemon, seriously, I need to eat something."
And no, she's not exaggerating. Her health is delicate. She has to be responsible with her diet.
Daemon didn't respond; he just kept moving behind her. Oh no. He has an erection again.
"Daemon!"
Daemon didn't respond; instead, he kissed her. But it wasn't like the obligatory kisses they'd had to give throughout their marriage, nor the short kisses she negotiated as part of her list… it was a real kiss, like the ones she'd seen in soap operas… like the kisses he gave Rhaenyra. She'd seen them together from a distance several times. Daemon is kissing her the way he kisses his lover, as if she weren't Alicent, as if she were Rhaenyra… as if she were a replacement.
She couldn't take it anymore and, summoning strength from who knows where, got out of bed and locked herself in the bathroom to cry.
It wasn't fair.
She is Alicent. She is not Rhaenyra. It's not fair that Daemon even takes that away from her. Being his wife is part of her identity, but it's precisely that! HIS WIFE! Not a replacement for his lover.
Daemon is banging on the door, telling her to open up.
She's just crying. She's not going to open it. For all she cares, he can go to Rhaenyra or Mysaria or Laena. She doesn't care. For years she dreamed of Daemon loving her, kissing her, making her feel like the protagonist of a love novel. It's not fair that the only time Daemon treats her with something more than his usual apathy is because he misses Rhaenyra.
Daemon stops knocking but stays there, pressed against the door. She can see his shadow.
She's made a decision. She won't be a replacement. She deserves more than that. Even if it's just her body, she'll take care of it.
"Forget about the fidelity thing for this month, Daemon. You can go back to Rhaenyra. I won't complain."
Daemon leaves.
She stays crying a little longer. Then she gets up from the floor where she was crying and goes to wash her face. Her hair is a mess, and her eyes look red and swollen. She's not as pretty as Rhaenyra; she never has been. How could her simple features compare to Rhaenyra's Valyrian features?
She's just a normal woman trying to compete with a goddess.
She had already lost.
She's not as daring or brave. Extreme sports scare her, and she's extremely religious. Daemon would never be attracted to her for being herself.
True, her list mentioned sexual things, but she didn't want them if Daemon touched her thinking she was another woman.
She had to do the right thing for herself.
Daemon spent years ignoring her and keeping physical contact to a minimum… Daemon could hold out a little longer.
Cleaning the kitchen took her several hours. Daemon didn't call or write, and that was fine with her. She didn't want to see him. She decided to go to the Great Sept. She felt dirty, a sinner, like a silly girl who let herself be seduced by a man who belonged to another.
She lit candles at all the altars but only knelt before the Stranger.
"Please, give me time. I want to live. I want to fall in love with someone who sees only me. Please, just give me a little more time. Not much, just enough so that someone can love me. I promise I won't ask for more. I'll make offerings every week, I'll hold masses for you. Please, just give me time."
She didn't realize it, but hours passed, and she got home when it was already getting dark.
Daemon wasn't home.
She worried because her husband wasn't arriving. She called him, but it went straight to voicemail.
It was almost midnight when Daemon returned. He reeked of Rhaenyra. She would recognize that scent anywhere. She herself had helped Rhaenyra choose that perfume. She was the one who picked the scents—a mix of floral, spicy, and woody notes.
"I broke up with Rhaenyra."