She is Daemon's daughter but she wants nothing from him, rides a dragon and doesn't shy away from a fight. She also hides a dangerous secret and has her own reasons for coming to King's Landing.
Aemond wonders if he can tame her.
✧...
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The Grand Sept welcomes Alicent with silence, brings her into its cool embrace. It feels like the time freezes in this massive building, the walls of it rising up high into the dust-filled air. The walls are warm with candlelight, bright glares scattered all around, woven with rays of the sun peaking through the narrow windows.
The usual polite smile peels off Alicent's face like a layer of old paint, baring the nervousness and anxiety she's been trying to fight off but to no avail. Her hands cling to her dress, fiddling with the material, yet the slippery silk offers no satisfaction, and it's not long before she finds herself picking the skin around her nails, a habit she can't help but go back to in moments like this. The statues of the Seven don't glance at her with judgment and only display a quiet understanding, a wordless invitation to repent and pray, and she accepts it.
When Alicent turns the corner, the pain already stings her fingers, and she keeps them away from the dress to not stain it, and her mind goes back to the previous evening, to the image of Lia's clothes covered in blood. And then Alicent looks up from the floor — and she almost stumbles at the sight of a cloaked figure kneeling in front of the idol carrying a lantern. She is so astounded, she stops dead in her tracks upon realizing who it is.
Lia's eyes are glued to the light of the candles, but her gaze looks distant, as if the flickering flames take her back in time, back to a certain point in the past, and remembering it makes her face fall. Alicent tries to discern her emotions — a glimpse of disappointment, a shadow of doubt, and the undisguised sadness that runs in her irises like a sea current. It almost feels wrong to witness, to read her face in a moment so intimate. But Alicent doesn't move, silent like the stone-carved Crone they're both facing.
She knows the right thing to do is to turn around and leave, but instead, Alicent decides to follow the impulse, to try and pick the lock of Lia's character. So she comes closer, as cautious as one would be not to spook the beast. But within the perimeter of the Sept and in the warmth of the quivering light Lia only looks human.
"Would it bother you if I kneel with you?" Alicent whispers, and not a single muscle moves in the girl's face.
"There is more than enough space for the both of us," Lia answers simply.
While Alicent settles down next to her, she wonders how long it's been since Lia noticed her presence. She could've left — just like she did yesterday, like she does every time she wants to — and yet, she stayed, her posture flat, her hands clasped in prayer.
"I've, too, found myself in need of some guidance these days," Alicent takes a candle to light it, and Lia's eyes flicker to her — or rather to her bitten nails, but the girl says nothing on the matter. She's wearing all black again, and, sitting up close, Alicent sees lines of neat seams that go down her sleeves. At her wrists, the stitching forms an ornament — something vaguely recognizable, but most of it is hidden on the inner side, so Alicent can't make it out.
