TW: Marital non-con and a LOT of discussion around power, consent, and complicity. Along with a lot of dark humour and absurdity.
We talk about the Storm Queen, personal implications of addressing political problems via something as intimate as marriage, and how those implications are not felt equally. This fic is the definition of "A LOT." But we have weird, dark fun along the way.
ALICENT
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," the King groans. "I wanted more time. I wanted..."
Alicent wipes the tea that leaks from his ruined cheek as Rhaenyra leans over the other side of his bed. "Shh… father, it's alright. I will return once I see the children home. Daemon will follow once we've arranged for their care."
"But you wanted to know… you wanted to know... if I believe it to be true."
"Believe what to be true, My King?" Alicent asks.
"His Dream. Don't you remember? The Song of I…" he trails off again.
"The Song of Ice and Fire," Rhaenyra finishes. "Yes, Father."
"It is true, what he saw in the North."
Alicent looks to Rhaenyra for clarification, but she's grown stiff and silent. She leans back down over her husband. "My King, I do not understand."
"The Prince That Was Promised, to unite the realm… against the cold. And the dark." The King opens his remaining eye to fix on Rhaenyra. Her composure has started to give way to trembling and it looks like she's holding her breath. The King takes his favourite child's hand, and Alicent wonders if he even remembers she's there.
"It is you."
Rhaenyra's breath catches in her throat before it escapes her. She swallows with great effort. "Father I—"
"You are the one. You must do this."
Rhaenyra's eyes are brimming with tears. She nods, but the King's lid has fallen closed once more.
"Promise me, Rhaenyra. Promise me."
Rhaenyra takes a breath and lets the tears escape. She covers his hand with both of hers. "I promise, Father." The King nods, satisfied.
"I'll be back in a few days," she assures him. But he's already asleep. Rhaenyra looks up and seems surprised to find Alicent still there. She shakes her head and looks away, and Alicent can't tell if it's from embarrassment or disdain or some queer Targaryen custom. She used to always understand Rhaenyra. At the least, she used to think she understood Rhaenyra. Those days were long lost, yet Alicent still longed for them.
"Rhaenyra…"
"I am fine. Let him sleep. Mayhaps I will return before he wakes." She turns away and leaves without looking back.
Alicent blows out the candles in the annex and retires to her chambers. How strange, she thinks as she climbs into bed. Yesterday she was dreading the princess's visit, but now she is already anxious for her return — especially sans her unstable husband and their ever-growing wild brood. She's eager to ask her about what the King meant by ice and fire and darkness from the north. She might have taken it for a dying man's ramblings if not for the little-seen fervour in her King, or the reaction it triggered in Rhaenyra.
I will ask her in our spot in the godswood , she decides. Mayhaps they could spend more time there on Rhaenyra's return — the way they used to. And Alicent drifts off into distant memories of fresh grass, sunlight, and cake.
For a few days it was feared that Storm's End might suffer the same fate as Harrenhal, for Argilac's daughter Argella barred her gates at the approach of Orys Baratheon and the Targaryen host, and declared herself the Storm Queen. Rather than bend the knee, the defenders of Storm's End would die to the last man, she promised when Queen Rhaenys flew Meraxes into the castle to parley. "You may take my castle, but you will win only bones and blood and ashes," she announced…but the soldiers of the garrison proved less eager to die. That night they raised a peace banner, threw open the castle gate, and delivered Lady Argella gagged, chained, and naked to the camp of Orys Baratheon. It is said that Baratheon unchained her with his own hands, wrapped his cloak around her, poured her wine, and spoke to her gently, telling her of her father's courage and the manner of his death. And afterward, to honor the fallen king, he took the arms and words of the Durrandon for his own. The crowned stag became his sigil, Storm's End became his seat, and Lady Argella his wife.
— Aegon's Conquest Vol. 1
"It's so romantic, is it not?" Alicent had asked Rhaenyra. They had been studying in the Godswood to prepare for the Septa's questioning. Laena and Laenor had joined them that day, declaring themselves authorities on the histories of the Stormlands — although Alicent was skeptical that they had spent much time in their Grandmother's land.
Rhaenyra was not convinced. "Did you misread the part where he was the one to kill her father? Must I tear yet another page out for you to commit to memory?"
"He was so gracious and gallant when in truth he could have done anything to her."
"And you see nothing wrong with the fact that he could have done anything to her?"
Three months earlier Alicent might have hoped to find an ally in Queen Aemma, but instead, she alone was tasked to stand between Rhaenyra and whatever conclusion may come. Laena and Laenor were not helpful but had at least settled for silent, amused observation.
"What was her life like?" Rhaenyra had pressed. "Did she have to live among the men that had betrayed her? Stripped her? Delivered her to the man who slayed her father?"
"Why did she need to be stripped?" Laenor asked. "That seems… unnecessary. Did they know what could have happened when they handed her over? Did they care? Did they revel in it?"
"What was her life like?" Rhaenyra continued. "She had to live in that same palace, with the men who took her home and the men who handed her over. What happened to those men? And if anything did, did Argella have the power to command it so, or did she have to appeal to her… warden? She bore his heirs. How did that happen?"
"Rhaenyra," Alicent said, "I think you know how that happens."
"Did she want to?"
"What do you mean?"
"Did he have to chain her to make her with child, or was the threat of chains alone enough?"
"You… should not fixate upon such matters."
"Rhaenyra has a point," Laenor said.
No. Allies.
And then he continued. "How often did he lie with her, spend time with her? Was he not worried that the daughter of the man he killed would seek revenge? She had been willing to die once before after all, so why not again? She even had the chance to take him with her! How did he ensure she did not slay him when they were abed?"
"If someone killed my father and forced me to wife, I would slit their throat in their sleep, at the very least," Rhaenyra said. Laenor and Laena both nodded.
Valyrians take everything to such extremes. "You would not have a dagger," Alicent said.
"Then I would strangle them with my own chains," Rhaenyra declared. "Like The Amber Bride." Alicent could not understand the Valyrian, but their audience nodded along.
"Who?"
"Only the woman from an actually romantic story, of Old Valyria," Laena said. "Afterwards she had his—"
"I'm not sure Alicent wants to hear the rest," Rhaenyra interrupted.
"I'm not sure Alicent wants to hear much of anything," Laenor said.
Alicent sighed. "This entire debate is irrelevant. If she was a dutiful wife, it should not matter."
"I suppose…" Rhaenyra said. "If you never say no, you never need find out."
"Mother says to save your no's to make a point," Laena the twelve-year-old said. "Otherwise, say it's a headache or you're tired. Then your no's become punishment only — apparently, it's an easy way to ensure good behaviour."
Valyrians really do have such queer customs.
"A husband is not a dog to be trained," Alicent scolded.
"Yet apparently a wife is a dog to be kept," Rhaenyra argued.
As if summoned by mention, Lord Corlys then approached their blanket under the tree. "Laena, Laenor. We're to have our mid-day meal together today."
"Lord Corlys," Rhaenyra had said. "Did Orys Baratheon have to chain the Storm Queen to sire his heirs?"
"Rhaenyra!"
"I will… return later." He did not need a dragon to take flight.
Rhaenyra turned back to Alicent. "Very well. Perhaps Argella was not like me. Perhaps she was like you, Alicent. Perhaps the only chains she needed were the chains of a pretty necklace, the only binds necessary the ribbon from the marriage ceremony. But I do not see the woman who said, you may take my castle, but you will win only bones and blood and ashes, turning into you after one kind gesture."
"Especially when the gesture was…" Laenor was clearly looking for the prudent way to phrase it. "Waiting to rape her the proper respectable way."
A commendable effort, at least. Alicent sighed. "Why do you insist on asking questions that do not need to be asked, that do not matter?"
"Because," Rhaenyra said. "I imagine it mattered to Argella."
Lord Corlys returned to collect the Velaryons and Rhaenyra left for her daily afternoon ride. Her Lord father had recently taken advantage of these daily rides to dine with the King himself — and bring his daughter with him. That day was one of many he'd conveniently been called away early, and Alicent had been left to entertain the King alone. She did not resent this routine; the King showed her far more attention and interest than her father ever did, and Alicent couldn't help but delight in it. In pleasing him, in making him laugh. To be on the receiving end of such familiarity from a man of such importance, it was a great honour — and a bit of a thrill.
And today she had a topic for conversation.
"I thought you might know of the history of the last Storm King, and his daughter, Argella Durrandon," she'd asked as they finished dessert. "Rhaenyra and the Velaryons have taken up quite the fascination with her."
"What is their fascination?"
"Their fascination is argumentation, as usual."
The King chuckled. She had made The King chuckle. She pushed on. "They were wondering what her life was like after Orys Baratheon took her to wife."
"I imagine it would be similar to the life of any high-born lady-wife."
"The debate was more focused on… behind closed doors." Alicent averted her eyes to her now-empty plate, hoping the King would not infer the more carnal implications. "Was he kind to her?"
"I should think so. His first act towards her was a great kindness. Taking her to wife was not only an honour but a mercy. What else would she have done as a woman alone in the world? No family, no wealth, no home. It was her only desirable choice."
She looked up. "I… yes, precisely. He offered her the only desirable choice. I don't understand why Rhaenyra cannot grasp that. It's been so hard to argue with her since… I used to have an ally in that regard."
Neither spoke for an awkward moment.
"Yes… I do remember it was always you or Aemma to guide her to reason."
Alicent changed the subject. "Although, her father's men who betrayed her, who delivered her to the enemy in such a state, did they know she would be treated with such honour and mercy? What happened to them?"
"That I cannot speak for, but you grant me great counsel without even intending to do so, Alicent. It's a dangerous thing for a woman to remain unattached in this world, even for a queen. It will do me well to remember it."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
The King rose from the table but gestured for her to remain seated. He then retrieved a flat velvet box from his desk drawer. "I... Had something made for you. To thank you for supporting Rhaenyra these past months."
She stood to take it. "You do me a great honour, Your Grace." She opened the box to find a gold chain choker with a large ruby at its center.
He looked down to his hands and twisted a ring around his small finger. Alicent wondered if that was where Rhaenyra got the habit. "I'd noticed you've been changing… your wardrobe, that is. I thought this might go well with some of your new dresses."
Alicent had been touched. She'd long been resigned to being ignored by her father. Not only had her sessions with the King finally garnered the approval of her father she'd so long coveted, but also of the King. Alicent Hightower, pious, quiet daughter of a second son from a moderately powerful house, was not used to feeling special outside of her appearance.
Viserys picked up the necklace. "May I?"
"Oh, I, yes. Please. Thank you." She turned around and lifted her hair. The King laid the choker upon her throat and traced along her collarbone as he made his way to the clasp. His hand lingered after for a moment too long, and he smoothed the stray hairs that fell down the back of her neck; her blood ran cold from his touch and she froze, for once not knowing the appropriate response.
A knock mercifully interrupted their interlude. "Come," The King said, whilst jumping away from her.
"The Princess Rhaenys," the Kingsguard announced.
He took another step away from her. "Cousin, what a surprise. I was expecting my Lord Hand, he just… stepped out for a moment."
Rhaenys eyed her for a moment before presumably deciding it was not her problem. "I was hoping to find Rhaenyra, she and Laena had an interesting conversation today and I believe I need to clarify some… women's issues with the both of them."
"Rhaenyra is fully educated in health and anatomy."
"Issues of the marriage bed, Your Grace."
"She is but five-and-ten, I think that conversation can wait."
"Very well. I'll leave you with your… guest." Despite her discomfort, Alicent did not want the Princess to leave.
"Very good then. Oh, the book you were just requesting, one moment." She had requested no book. The King retrieved a volume from his bookshelf — The Decline and Demise of House Durrandon. "This should give you the answers you seek." His words were directed to Alicent, but she wondered if they were for the Princess's benefit.
"Thank you, Your Grace." She gratefully followed an observant Rhaenys out the door.
She returned to her room to investigate her new evidence — perhaps she'd find the answers and put Rhaenyra and Laena's argument to rest. But there was very little account of the first and last Storm Queen, save for the same two paragraphs that appeared in the chronicles of The Conquest.
She set the book down and returned to another — the book of Nymeria she had then for months hidden from the Septa. Nymeria and the Storm Queen had both wed for duty, for politics, for peace. How could Rhaenyra admire one yet pity the other?
They did not speak again on the subject for years, not until Rhaenyra had abruptly ended her tour at Storm's End. The King had been furious, and Alicent had been scandalized that she would complain of her wealth of suitors.
"It was not only the suitors who soured my mood," Rhaenyra had confided to her.
"What else then?"
"I asked Lord Baratheon about Argella."
"And?"
"He laughed."
Author's Notes
Hi all! Bear with me as I figure out how to navigate this site. I'm an AO3 native who decided to join for those sweet sweet chapter analytics so I'm a bit new to this interface. I'm also in DIRE need of a beta reader. Especially to ensure that readers can understand what's happening and that it's clear who's speaking.
P.S. This work gets dark at times, and we embrace dark humour and toxicity here.
Updates every Sunday. We're currently at the beginning of Part 3, and this fic will consist of four parts.
The Black Widow
Prologue: Promise Me
Part 1: Green Council
Canon Divergence
1. Cake —Alicent
2. Promises — Rhaenyra
3. Windows — Alicent
4. Vipers' Nest — Rhaenyra
5. Messages — Jace
6. Secrets I — Rhaenyra
7. Secrets II — Rhaenyra
8. Rogue Agents — Baela
9. The Childbed is Our Battlefield — Alicent
10. The Key to the Seven Kingdoms — Jace
Part 2: Black Queen
Character Arc Divergence
Black / Daemon-centric
1. When the Sea Takes You
2. Not-So-Sleeping Dragons
3. The Princess and the Queen
4. Toddlers on Toy Dragons
5. Dreams Didn't Make Us Kings
6. Black Bride
7. Black Wedding
8. Never Get Involved in a Land War in Essos
9. In Her Honour
10. In Her Name
11. The Last Storm
12. Beware Our Sting
13. Storm's End
14. Playing with Fire
15. Smoking Sea
16. The Queen-in-Chains
17. Aegon's Best Day Ever
18. King Breaker
19. Hearts as Embers
20. Ghostly Flame
21. The Stars Stand Witness I.
22. The Stars Stand Witness II.
23. Epilogue: A Future Promised in Glass
Part 3: Storm Queen
Green/Rhaenyra-centric
In progress
Chapters will update as written
Part 4: The Consort Crisis (War of the Wife Guys)
The final part
War of the Wife Guys
Absolute insanity
Daemon says it's Daemonin time
Rhaenyra says it's rhaenin time