'She took dark by hand
Ever cold and wonderful
Like a dead body.'
-Taken from 'The Red Prince,' performed by the Mummers Guild.
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The sept was spacious and airy. High ceilings and light filtered through windows. A dim glow despite the hundreds of lit candles. Rhaenar did have to admit it felt somewhat holy.
The solid quality of his boots echoed with each step. Hushed whispers of acolytes and citizens as he waltzed through.
In the sept, one maiden remained unmoved. Not outwardly, at least.
Alicent Hightower knelt at the center, her eyes shut in prayer before the candle-lit altar.
As he approached, Rhaenar noticed a flicker of her eyes, like a child feigning sleep.
"If I may," Rhaenar began softly, "Your grace resembles the Mother herself."
Alicent's grin widened, her eyes still closed. "You may not," she said silently, "Don't you know it's rude to interrupt a lady in prayer?"
"So that's what you were doing," Rhaenar teased, kneeling beside her. He caught a whiff of violet from her nape. "Apologies, my lady. Manners falter in the face of beauty."
Rhaenar clasped his hands, whispering, "Let us pray together, then."
The sept always brought memories of Alicent's mother flooding back. She admired how tenderly the prince treated the late Lady Hightower. Whenever Rhaenar joined them for prayer, it felt like a cherished tradition for the trio.
The sept was like a backward wind, solace found in remembrance.
Now those easy days were gone. Alicent had to swallow the melancholy. She prayed for a while with Rhaenar at her side. He emanated heat like a fire. There was freedom in the peace and quiet.
Once she finished her prayers for her mother and the Queen's good health, Alicent opened her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to see Rhaenar smiling, offering his hand to help her up.
"Walk with me," he said.
Arm in arm, they strolled through the sept, admiring the statues depicting the facets of the One God that was Seven: the Warrior, Smith, Father, Mother, Crone, and Maiden.
Eventually, they reached a statue devoid of any facial features—a blank, dark figure amidst the dim light.
At the altar of this faceless deity, Rhaenar delved into his sleeves and produced a gold coin, adding it to a neat stack of similar offerings.
"Why do you pray to the Stranger?" Alicent asked. It was a queer devotion to say the least.
"Someone's got to do it," Rhaenar said absently.
Alicent observed the glint of candlelight on the pillars of coins — towers of gold dragons.
Despite their tempting display, none dared to pilfer from the offering.
"You remember my tales of dreamless nights?" Rhaenar said, "Sometimes, I wonder if the Stranger is behind it all. As if he seeks a companion in his realm of darkness."
Alicent played along, "And what is it you do in this realm of darkness?"
"Nothing," Rhaenar chuckled, "The Stranger sure must be ugly. All that dark to hide his face."
Alicent squeezed his forearm, "Rhaenar," she hushed, leaning into his ear with a reprimand. She felt a twinge of guilt she had prompted such blasphemy. "You shouldn't jest about such things."
Rhaenar acknowledged her with a charming smile, "I suppose you're right. Still, it does make one wonder. Will the septons ever collect my donation?"
Alicent's gaze drifted to the faceless statue, searching for any defining features.
She found none.
"Perhaps none wish to provoke the ire of death itself."
Rhaenar scoffed, "Yeah, right. Look at all that gold. Imagine all the hungry mouths it could feed. Mark my words. Someday, that hoard will be plundered. Desperation makes a back turn against god."
A shadow fell upon the prince, a darkness that tainted his very essence.
Alicent sensed it in the timbre of his voice, felt it in the subtle flare of his nostrils. His once mesmerizing purple eyes now held a cold, steely hate.
Alicent shivered, is this what he was like on a battlefield?
"Apologies, my lady. I must take my leave now. Thank you for the flower today. I'll see you at home."
And indeed, Prince Rhaenar strode away with purposeful speed.
As he did, shadows emerged from the wings of the sept, falling into formation with seamless precision.
It was as if the Rhaenari legion understood, perhaps better than anyone, the significance of the look that etched their prince's countenance.
One captain hurried alongside him, "Orders, my prince?"
Rhaenar kept looking forward, "Head to U-HQ and rile the men. I want all squads level blue effective immediately."
Such abrupt action was not uncommon. The legion constantly took part in military exercises. The prince always tested their pedigree. Their training had instilled too much pride to fall behind.
But the battle-tested members were hip to the mode. Their senses sharpened tenfold with the sudden adrenaline that was Rhaenar's seriousness.
They could recall from a feeling the yet-to-be-blooded rookies could never ascertain
"Yes, my Prince!"
Alicent watched, knowing she would never fully comprehend their world, yet understanding the order of it all in some way.
Merely by observing them, she discerned the essence of the prince and his men: they were soldiers through and through.
Witnessing such a scene, Alicent couldn't help but ponder with Rhaenar where the line between prince and soldier blurred.
A part of it made her sad. She ran out to him as his shadowed figure disappeared into the bright gleam of the sun outside the large doors of the sept.
But when she got out, she was met with an even more dazzling light.
There Sundance was, a menacing, snarly grin.
Claws scraped against stony steps as Rhaenar climbed the scaled beast.
Alicent got so scared it was a miracle her knees didn't buckle. The terrifying pressure of Sundance was too much to bear.
Wide amber eyes searching to destroy. The loud boiled breathing as fire coiled at the ready. A grin that showed even the gums that revealed just how long and sharp and triangular his teeth were.
Needless to say, it was a far cry from the happy-go-lucky Sundance that Alicent knew from childhood.
She struggled to imagine those days watching Sundance hop from left to right like a bunny dancing directions.
Gone was the benevolent gaze that welcomed and tried to set you at ease, simply happy for the company.
It was at that point where Alicent understood the gap in her logic.
She should not have pondered where the line blurred between Rhaenar and Soldier, oh no
Rather, where it blurred between he and dragon.
As Rhaenar mounted and Sundance extended golden wings, even that idea was gone with the wind.
There were no lines to blur.
They were one and the same~