As I mentioned in a comment on the last chapter, I've gone back and edited the entire story before posting this update (on 10/23/22). I wrote this in a very stream-of-consciousness style with very little plan, and I discovered a lot about each character as I went along. For that reason, I wanted to go back after I wrote my ending and weave everything together more coherently. For those of you who don't feel like rereading the earlier chapters, don't worry: the story is entirely the same. The only change to the existing writing that I've made (other than proof-editing) is moving one of their fights from the corridor to the Sept at Dragonstone. What you will find is additional content - new scenes, new characters, smoother transitions, a more fleshed-out Alicent, and a larger exploration of the Dragonstone Castle. Regardless of whether or not you decide to go back, I hope you enjoy this final installment. 3

The Queen studies the Princess as she stands beside her children. Dressed in all black, she would look entirely the part of a grieving widow, were it not for the cut on her lower lip. For a murderess, she looks rather lost in grief, Alicent thinks to herself. Daemon stands behind the Princess with his own two daughters, sporting a matching wound upon his mouth. A tear falls down Rhaenyra's face. Perhaps my father is mistaken.

Alicent learned of their wedding from Lord Larys a few days before the wedded couple arrived in Driftmark. One of his spies told him of a hasty ceremony arranged upon the Dragonstone beach. When Larys finished speaking, Alicent threw her glass against the floor of her bedchamber. Regretting it, she bent down to pick up the pieces, slicing open her finger unintentionally before bringing it to her mouth to suck at the gash. How Larys' eyes had gleamed in the firelight as the blood painted her lips. She grimaces as she thinks on it.

The Queen has been praying as of late in the quiet of the Driftmark Sept. She knows her temper has grown far too hot. Attacking the Princess had been inexcusable. She sees that now as she watches Rhaenyra's head bent in prayer. Alicent's eyes search Rhaenyra's wrist for evidence of the injury, but black brocade hides her milky skin. The Queen wonders if she will scar. No doubt, she thinks to herself and cannot be sure if she is unsettled or pleased.

Rhaenyra looks at her then and heat floods to Alicent's face. The Princess's eyes are soft. Those aren't the eyes of a killer, Alicent muses before she tears her eyes away. She does not know what she expected to see. Such rage she had felt when Rhaenyra lived beside her all those years in King's Landing, the evidence of her transgressions running 'round the castle halls.

Yet all of that rage left the Queen in an instant when she saw the blood weep from the Princess's wrist. How she had wanted to hold her then; how she had wanted to kiss her cheeks and grieve with her for what they once shared, for what they had lost; how she wished to dress the wound herself and take her by the hand, to walk along the shore beside her and set right what went so wrong between them all those years ago; how she wished to cry with her childhood companion as she told her all the difficulties she has weathered alone in silence all these years, all the memories she has stored inside her; how she wished to laugh as her old friend inevitably found the humor in it all.

She knows Rhaenyra will never forgive her, for the Queen has grown into an ugly thing in the seclusion of the Red Keep, whose violence loudly roared for all to see once she found herself pinned against the wall. Now they see you as you are, Rhaenyra had said. How could Alicent even begin to explain herself? For she saw the eyes that looked at her, had seen the horror as they watched on.

And yet… Rhaenyra's own eyes grew soft once her arm began to bleed. Perhaps the Princess would have remained soft and taken her into her arms, inviting her to walk along the beach. Perhaps that would have made it worth it – all the years the spent apart as she numbed herself with meats and cakes and honeyed wine that did little to alleviate the sickness in her nose from her lord husband's bandages, worth the time she subjects herself to with Lord Larys as the moon sinks low in the sky, worth the day she saw her reflection in the mirror of her chamber and realized fifteen years had passed while she sleepwalked through the castle. Perhaps they should have dipped their toes in the water and Alicent would have smiled in the night, and perhaps that same moon she has grown to dread would have danced off the sea. Perhaps the Queen would have let herself fall into the gurgling swells, letting the black waters wash away both their sins, as the tide gently rocked them, their locks floating like seaweed in the foam as they swam beneath the waves.

"Such injustice," says her father softly in her ear, "but you mustn't weep, my child, for she will get what is due to her in time."

Alicent blinks and the daylight comes back to her. Her cheeks are wet. Her father dabs them with his handkerchief and places a hand on her shoulder. "Yes," she says, her eyes following his to her young son, who now wears a patch of black upon his eye.

"For now, we shall bide our time."

"Let us pray," says Alicent, wishing he would leave her with her thoughts.

"Indeed," says her father, taking her hand.

Rhaenyra's own head is bowed, her hair obscuring her face from view. So the Queen's gaze drifts to the brown-haired boy whose eye she had demanded. Tears trail from both those small eyes as he clings to his mother – watching the men hoist his father's stone coffin off the precipice and into the sea.

Thank you thank you thank you to all of my readers. This is by far the longest piece I've ever written. I feel like I learned so much as I went along, and I owe a lot to all of you who wrote in. Your ideas, compliments, and criticisms helped to shape this work and I am so incredibly grateful! Writing this story was the most fun I've had in years. I'm not yet sure what I'm writing next - perhaps a sequel or an unrelated story. In the meantime, if you enjoyed the smut in the later chapters, definitely check out my earlier piece, "Their Dance," which is an alternate ending to Episode 5.

Xoxo, shegoesnothing