Hugh Hammer (ASOIF/SI)

 Her days were all the same, she, her daughter Helaena, her children

 Jaehaera and Maelor, her father Lord Otto, her crippled son King

 Aegon and a few of their retainers spent their time in the quarters

 assigned to them in Maegors Holdfast. They had initially been

 confined to former storerooms but after a week or so they had been

 moved to these quarters.

 Hardly sized for them, nor appropriate for their standing, but at least

 they were not in the Black Cells, of that she was grateful. They had

 few if any visitors, they were not allowed out to walk or exercise, they

 were not allowed books or any diversions of any kind.

 Alicent knew that barring a miracle her life was forfeit, and likely the

 lives of all those who shared her imprisonment, neither Rhaenyra nor

 Daemon were of a merciful disposition, and she fully expected them

 to kill her and hers in a most gruesome manner. Probably by

 dragonfire, but mayhaps by hanging, drawing and quartering, if

 either the Queen or her husband was in a particularly vengeful

 mood.

 Her only real contact with the outside world was the Septon she had

 asked to attend her daily in her prayers, he was able to tell her much

 of what was going on in the Red Keep, in Kings Landing and in the

 Seven Kingdoms.

 It appeared that after their victory at Kings Landing the fortunes of

 the Blacks had stalled somewhat, even been reversed in places. Her

 second son Aemond and Ser Criston Cole had escaped from the

 Riverlands after defeating a sizeable portion of the rebel forces there

 and were expected to link up with Lord Ormund's forces in the

 Reach. Rhaenyra seemed to be passive and content to sit atop the

Iron Throne and issue laws and decrees as if half the realm was not

 ignoring her as a usurper.

 For her son Aegon, 2nd of his name was the true king of the Seven

 Kingdoms, scarred and injured that he was, he was the King, and

 everyone knew it! That bitch had usurped her son, cast aside the

 laws of Gods and Men, and spat upon the right of sons to follow

 fathers, to assume for herself a title she was not entitled to.

 The Septon had confirmed to her what she already knew, what she

 had spent her life working towards from the moment shed had heard

 Aegon's cries as he had slipped out from between her legs - that the

 first-born son inherits the title of the father. And no decree by a King

 could change that, that fool Viserys might have forced many Lords to

 swear to uphold his daughter's usurpation of her sons' rights, but

 how many Lords had followed when Viserys had died?

 Some had argued that the vow sworn by the father did not apply to

 them, though she welcomed their support such support was mealy

 mouthed, her first born son was King, it was a simple matter, and

 none should have questioned her son's coronation as King.

 But they had, the weak, the foolish, the ambitious, and the plainly

 misguided, along with those heathens from the North, but how could

 one trust savage barbarians who worshiped trees?

 But more importantly, it had been the dragons, those mighty beasts

 of the Targaryen family that had proved decisive in the end, and

 Rhaenyra, curse that bitch, had more of them. With Rhaenyra

 residing on Dragonstone and with the wild and unridden dragon

 available to her she been able to swell the ranks of her dragonriders

 with the so called 'dragonseeds'.

 Without these dragonseeds things would have been more even, and

 Vhagar, the largest of the dragons, might even have swayed things

 decisively in their favour.

Instead, the dragonseeds had defeated the forces of the Three

 Daughters and sent them packing, before assisting in the assault in

 Kings Landing, where they were hardly needed, due to treachery

 and betrayal! She cursed those who had turned their cloaks, and she

 cursed the City Watch most of all, they should have purged them

 completely, for these so-called men had been creatures of Daemon

 Targaryen, one and all!

 And now she knew that with Kings Landing secured it was only a

 matter of time before the Blacks superiority in dragons would be

 decisive, armies could not stand in the field against these beasts,

 everyone knew that….

 But, yet… Rhaenyra made no move, and there was yet the barest

 slivers of hope that all was not lost. The miracle that she prayed for

 everyday with the Septon might yet appear, for did not the Seven

 intervene when the devout were threatened and the natural order of

 their realm on earth was disrupted?

 And what was more disruptive to the Seven's order than that harlot

 and her whorefucker of a husband? Alicent blushed, furiously

 quashing the heated images of Daemon from her mind, images and

 sensations that flashed unbidden across the eye of her mind. The

 images, sounds, scents and thrills of when Daemon Tragaryen had

 taken her maidenhead, unwilling she had been at first, but not for

 long…

 Alicent composed herself with a mighty twist of will, and with the

 unpleasant memories of the last time Viserys had mounted her, and

 returned to her musings and thoughts, for that was all she had these

 days to comfort her.

 Her daughter Helaena was lost to madness and grief, Aegon was

 crippled, in pain for most of his waking hours, unable to move

 without the aid of a cane, and unable to father more children

 according to the Maester who attended to him daily. Jaehaera and

 Maelor were withdrawn and terrified most of the time, and they

 barely seemed to want to speak at all. Her father was stoic, but he

had suffered a terrible beating at the hands of Daemon Targaryen

 and was physically broken, though his mind, when he wanted to talk,

 still showed its old sharpness and keenness.

 None of the people who shared her incarceration were much in the

 mood for doing anything, and especially not talking Alicent had come

 to realise. The very odd time she had been taken out of her quarters

 and brought to the Throne room, there to witness Rhaenyra sit atop

 the huge, twisted monstrosity that was the Iron Throne, and which

 belonged to her son.

 She was brought out to humiliate her mostly, Rhaenyra often

 screeching at her from on high, obscenities and foul curses

 sometimes, the rest mostly dire threats against all those who still

 supported her son's legitimate claim to the Seven Kingdoms. And

 always that bitch commanded her to write to Lord Ormund and her

 sons Aemond and Daeron to bend the knee to her, the so called

 'rightful' Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

 Did that bitch sitting on the Iron Throne think she was

 simpleminded? Or that Lord Ormund and her sons were equally as

 stupid? Rhaenyra would never give them any mercy, bending the

 knee be dammed, that usurping cunt and her fucker of a husband

 would kill her two sons if they surrendered to her. And likely kill many

 of the Lords who had rightly pledged their swords to Aegon's cause.

 No, that silver haired harpy could scream and rant at her all she

 wanted, and maybe she would indeed win this war and extinguish

 her and her line, but the justness and righteousness of her son's

 cause could not be destroyed, no matter what Rhaenyra did. Oh, she

 might rule and her descendants might, but they would never be free

 of the taint of illegitimacy and usurpation, a stigma sure to grow

 every more pungent as the years passed. And if not, Alicent knew

 that Rhaenyra and Daemon were sure to make enough mistakes to

 either give the Lords of Westeros cause to murder them, or even

 give them endless rebellions and conflict.

'Enjoy your time atop my son's throne you bitch' Alicent swore, 'and

 let it be brief and troublesome'.