“The chains which fall from one broken winged dove must always find a new innocence to conquer, devour and leave it as broken– if not more broken than the first dove.”

words told by a septa, something that alicent couldn’t understand the cryptic words which were whispered when she blew out the taper she held after lighting candles for the dead she mourned in the inviting silence of the sevens embracing sept but she would soon realise it as the days followed the heavy linked chains she once wore as attire, a unique fashion choice mainly with gold with an underlying representation of how alicent felt entrapped the day her father requested she give her condolences to the widowed king, viserys the man she wed and bore five children for after his passing and forcing her son aegon to usurp the throne she was set free from her father’s grasp the old lord’s focuses on controlling aegon like a puppet on a string leaving alicent to find herself in certain things such as an affair with her sworn protector but as her chains slowly became less until she had none she failed to see her children’s growing the resentment and anger rising in their hearts

which is how alicent found herself once again feeling trapped in a new way, sat at the council table averting her eyes from your own a twinge of regret in her hollow heart when she sees a gold chained sevens sigil necklace resting on your chest as she has unwillingly or rather ignored how she became her father the heavy pressure of duty now on you and aegon slowly picking at her cuticles making herself bleed she can’t seem to admit her faults but she can’t seem to escape them either guilt wrapping around her mind her leg bouncing beneath the large table the voices of aegon, aemond all the councilmen and her own lord-father otto hightower becoming overwhelming for her mind especially with the fact she is worried about rhaenyra receiving her letters, lucerys death, yours and aegon’s chains

“I should have never allowed this.” Alicent whispers under her breath