Chapter Text
“Deuce,” the referee’s announcement was barely heard into the damaged microphone, but Alicent Hightower felt the word in her bones.
She groaned and threw her head back, fighting the urge to smash her tennis racket against the ground. It was her own serving set, and she had just given her opponent a free point by doing a double fault!
How could she miss her serves? The match barely started!
She looked at her female opponent, standing at the other side of the net. She had a strong jaw and broad shoulders. The black cap that she had put on plunged most of her face into darkness, but Alicent could still notice her cold eyes.
She was already in place for the next serve.
Alicent glared at her, as if she was responsible for her own failures, and then, she wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, trying to pull herself together.
She had to score two consecutive points to win this game now…
She stood behind the baseline to serve, leaned forward and started to bounce the yellow ball. And yet, while she was gauging the ball’s texture and weight, her mind was elsewhere.
She pictured Aegon, her 10 year-old son. She made his face flash before her eyes, with his wavy, fair hair, his big, round eyes that looked like hers, his crooked smile-
While she let these images of her son defile, she felt the corners of her lips twitch up in fondness.
She reminded herself once again why she was playing tennis right now, why she needed to progress and become a professional tennis player, why she had to win a Grand Slam-
For him. All of it was for him.
She gritted her teeth, tossed her ball, brought her racket behind her, and she hit. The ball flew over the net so fast that the opponent player didn’t even have the time to reach out.
“Ad-in.”
Alicent just did an ace. One point for her.
She breathed out and briefly waved her clenched fist in victory. A few claps were heard in the tennis court, but they were so shy that Alicent could miss it if she wasn’t listening carefully.
She looked around briefly, fighting the urge to wince.
The tennis court was small. The clay was obviously poorly kept, and it wasn’t really packed. Most of the rusty, green stands were empty.
Besides, the few faces that could be seen were aloof, displaying their lack of enthusiasm pretty shamelessly. Some people didn’t even bother to watch the match that they already deemed irrelevant, instead burying their faces in their phone.
Only Alicent’s coach, Tett Dart, looked invested. He was sitting down, like everybody else, but his piercing eyes were sweeping the tennis court restlessly, and he didn’t unlock his phone once.
He showed a tense face, ready to twist and redden the second Alicent scored… or messed up.
Focus. Alicent suddenly reminded herself, while she placed herself to serve. It may not be a glorious setting, but she had to start there.
She had to win and win again, to be noticed, to progress, and to be qualified in a Grand Slam.
As she bounced the ball in total silence, she thought just one more point, and I will win this game! She tossed the ball and hit it hard once again, feeling each of her muscles contract smoothly.
Her opponent tried: she grunted, stretched her arm, jumped to reach the yellow ball that bounced once and rushed to the right side of the clay, and-
She missed it.
“Ace.”
Two aces in a row.
This game was Alicent's. Yes!
This time, the cheers that raised in the air sounded a bit more enthusiastic. Alicent didn’t go into raptures. Instead, she turned around and walked towards the benches, where the two players could enjoy the short break between games.
As soon as she reached her small bench, she put her racket aside, and wiped the back of her neck with her towel. Then, she sat down, leaned forward and rummaged through her bag to get her water bottle.
Suddenly, the quiet spectators started to whisper, and Alicent grasped some words.
“Is that… her, mommy?”
“No, silly, it can’t be-”
“It is!”
“Look who’s here!”
“Take a picture, Johann!”
At first, Alicent didn’t pay attention to the words running through the public. She was busy retrieving her bottle and bringing its neck to her lips, but at some point, the whispering of the crowd grew louder and louder. And then, she heard a few gasps, and her curiosity was picked.
She looked up while drinking a bit of water, and she felt her eyes widen. In the stands, there was… the Rhaenyra Targaryen.
Rhaenyra Targaryen.
Winner of three Grand Slams, World Number One tennis player for two years in a row, who stopped her career at 30, not because she lost the plot, but because she wanted to devote herself to coaching.
Rhaenyra Targaryen, whose two players she trained and mentored had qualified for Roland Garros-
Alicent chocked on her water. She coughed like an idiot, and once her poor lungs were free, she put her bottle away, blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes, to be sure that she wasn’t hallucinating.
Rhaenyra Targaryen was still there, she didn’t disappear into thin air. She was slowly walking towards a free seat (at least, she was spoiled for choice) while throwing little smiles at whoever might gape at her.
Alicent gaped, too, like a dumb fish, as Rhaenyra chose one seat, a bit away from the few spectators. Her presence didn’t make any sense. How could someone like her be here, in this mediocre tennis court?
Alicent immediately recognized her because she had spotted her in newspapers, in some Youtube interviews, in her small and old TV, when she used to watch some of her tennis matches, many of them, when she was younger.
Yet, she had never seen the renowned woman this close, in the flesh.
Alicent couldn’t take her eyes off her. She was… beautiful, radiating confidence and strength, even surrounded by some ugly, faded and ruined stands.
She was sitting with her back straight, and her hands elegantly placed over her lap.
Her long coat was bright and red, turning heads in the dull crowd. She had long, platinum blond hair that was down, but that still looked perfect, like it was brushed for hours.
She had a square jaw, a thin nose, and even if she wore sunglasses, her clear, cunning eyes stared at the tennis court below, slowly scanning the clay, the net, the traced lines, until her eyes landed on her.
On Alicent.
Oh shit.
Alicent had her breath stolen away. She sat like an idiot on her bench. Rhaenyra held her gaze effortlessly and slowly tilted her head to the side.
Alicent squinted, but she swore that she saw the renowned coach smile at her. It was probably a trick of the light. Maybe Alicent hadn’t eaten enough this morning.
Was the coach looking for new, promising tennis players to train? Maybe Rhaenyra wanted to recruit... At the thought, Alicent snorted and looked down. Well, if it was the case, she would be completely ignored. She was too old - 25 years old - to be considered a potential.
“Alicent!” Tett’s little hiss brought her back to reality.
Shit! Focus! Alicent blinked up. The match resumed: her opponent was already walking towards the net, holding her racket firmly.
Alicent jumped up, grabbed her tennis racket clumsily, and hurried to her side of the net.
This time, it was her opponent’s turn to serve. Alicent placed herself where she had to, far away from the baseline. She made her racket roll between her clenching hands, while she waited for the ball to be served.
It didn’t matter whether fucking Rhaenyra Targaryen was watching the tennis match or not: Alicent needed to win this.
Her opponent served, and she didn’t try to make an ace. Therefore, she didn’t hit the ball hard, and Alicent could hit it back after the first bounce quite easily.
Both women hit the ball back and forth for a while, letting out some grunts in the process. Alicent gritted her teeth while she ran to the left, to the right, lunged forward, ran backward, swung her racket and hit and hit again-
Her arms hurt, her lungs burnt, but she keeps going. This game was tougher than the last one, because it was Alicent’s opponent who served: she was the one in control, imposing a rhythm.
15-love. Her opponent scored.
30-love. Her opponent scored again.
30-15. Alicent scored!
Between points, Alicent couldn't help but glance at the Targaryen coach, from time to time. She noticed that Rhaenyra had a notebook out, holding a little pen in her other hand. Sometimes, she would open it and start scribbling something, without even glancing down at the page. Each time, it made Alicent ponder. What… What was Rhaenyra Targaryen writing down?
Focus! Alicent shook her head, and watched her opponent, who served once again. She tried to do an ace, but she failed: her first serve didn’t go into the correct box, and the fault word rose through the microphone.
She served again, more slowly, and Alicent ran to the left to hit the ball back. While she ran, she could hear the whistle as she prepared to swing her racket back. She tried to send the ball flying where her opponent wasn’t, to maker her run, to tire her out.
It worked.
30-30.
Alicent kept going, until she got one point again, 30-40. Her opponent served again, and during their exchange, Alicent looked at the net, focused, squinted, and she hit the yellow back while aiming at the top of the net-
The ball flew, hit the top of the net, and… bounced into the correct box. The opponent lunged forward desperately to hit it before the ball could bounce a second time, but her racket couldn’t touch it.
Alicent won her fourth point. She won this game. This time, the cheers that rose were louder, and Alicent raised a clenched fist in victory. Her coach was standing up, clapping a bit.
Both tennis players joined their benches once again for the little break.
Alicent sat down, and took a bite of her apple, not yet ripe.
Once again, she couldn’t help but glance up: Rhaenyra Targaryen was still here, but this time, she had her head turned towards a little girl standing next to her, who was obviously stammering to ask her to sign an autograph.
She was handing her a crumpled piece of paper, with her head lowered.
Rhaenyra listened to the girl patiently, without any annoyance written over her smooth face. She even smiled at the little girl, took the piece of paper, signed it slowly, before she handed it back.
It was… oddly nice of her.
Alicent felt herself smile at the cute-
And suddenly, Alicent’s phone buzzed in her bag, making the back of her muscle stiffen. Her little smile was wiped out from her face. She flinched and looked down at her bag, already leaning forward and reaching out-
“Alicent!” Tett suddenly hissed from the stands.
She feigned not hearing him, instead keeping her head down and rummaging through her bag. She couldn’t find her phone, but she could feel its vibrations. Where did I put that damn phone?
“What did I tell you about your phone?!” her coach kept reprimanding her. “You are in the middle of a match, you must stay focused and-”
Got it!
“Hello?” Alicent answered the phone, pressing it against her left ear, and covering her other ear hole.
She didn’t miss the way her coach let out a frustrated growl, but she quickly focused on what she could hear through her phone.
“Good afternoon. Am I speaking to Aegon Hightower's mother?” a feminine, old voice rang. Oh, no. That’s her son’s school headmaster.
It was not the first time that she had heard this particular question, and it never sounded too good. She fought the urge to ask what has Aegon done, this time?
Instead, she forced a shaky smile across her lips. It was completely useless, the headmaster wouldn't see it.
“Indeed, it is me,” Alicent answered carefully. “I am his mother. Is my son alright?”
“He is, but I cannot say the same about his classmate that he has just punched…” Alicent squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, great! “Are you at work, Ms. Hightower?”
She looked around dumbly, before stammering. “Err, no, not really, well-”
“Then, come…” the headmaster interrupted her sternly. “Your son is in my office, and we are waiting for you.”
Alicent opened her mouth, but no word came out: the headmaster had already hung up.
She was left alone, sitting on her bench like an idiot, while the referee was speaking through the microphone, probably ordering her to put her phone away, or telling the players that the match resumed.
Either way, Alicent didn’t hear a single word, everything sounded muffled.
She hesitated for a second, one tiny second, and then, she made her decision. She stood up, waved her arms to attract the referee’s attention, before she screamed. “I forfeit!”
She ignored her coach’s face that crumbled, ignored the displeased sounds that rose in the tennis court, ignored her opponent who arched a brow. A few startled whispers spread through the spectators, and one of them even dared to boo her.
Alicent kept her eyes down, gathered her things in a hurry and rushed towards the locker room. She heard Tett call her, sounding crisp and harsh, but she never glanced over her shoulder.
Aegon needed her. Right now.
While she rushed down the stairs to join the locker room, she missed the way coach Rhaenyra Targaryen’s gaze never left her.
oOo
Alicent Hightower was alone in the empty locker room, with her muscles aching and her whole body drenched in sweat. She wanted to take a shower: she felt sticky, and she was sure that she stank.
She glanced up at the huge clock hung on the white wall, and she cursed. The headmaster was waiting for her. Well, no time for a shower!
She removed her green headband, tied down her long, curly hair again, removed her dirty shorts and shirt, to put on some clothes that she didn’t have the time to iron.
The only fine element of her outfit was her star-shaped necklace, that she wore around her neck every day. It was cheap, but it was Aegon’s gift, for her latest birthday.
She avoided looking at herself in the mirror, instead hastening to the tap to wash her red face with cold water.
When she assumed that she was as ready as she could get, she rushed to the exit, her big bag flung over her shoulder.
All of her messy thoughts were narrowed to Aegon. She imagined her son alone inside the headmaster’s office, slouching in a chair far too big for him, being glared at like a freak-
Alicent shook her head. While making her way towards the exit, her coach suddenly entered the locker room without knocking.
She spotted him at the last moment, just in time to gasp and halt before she could bump into him.
Luckily for her, she didn’t shove him: everyone could tell that he was pissed off, judging by his tense body language. Tett stood in her way and folded his arms across his chest.
Alicent fidgeted in front of him. She did her best to ignore her coach’s harsh eyes on her, but it was more and more difficult, as time passed.
“Do you remember why you decided to resume tennis, Alicent?” Tett asked, in a dry tone.
This question made her frown, as the knot inside her belly tightened. She faced him and gulped down to make the lump in her throat disappear, in vain.
“Yes, I do,” she answered, wishing to sound firm, but the words didn’t sound as stony as they should have.
She told no lie, though. How could she forget?
She remembered when her whole life collapsed, with just one phone call, two years ago. She still recalled what she was doing at that moment, before she heard her damn phone buzzing on the table.
She had been cooking Aegon’s favorite meal - chicken curry - in the kitchen, and her son... had been jumping up and down excitedly next to her, with a huge grin plastered across his face.
She remembered that he had been trying to stand on his tiptoes to sniff the sweet smell of chicken that wafted from the pan, only for his mother to gently nudge him away while laughing.
And then, her laughs had been interrupted by her phone buzzing, and she had picked up. She remembered that a cold, male voice had risen through the phone.
Are you Ms. Alicent Hightower, daughter of M. Otto Hightower?
The second she had heard her father’s name, her stomach lurched.
Her father had been dead three months ago, and although she couldn’t say that she had been grieving like any normal daughter would have, she had known immediately that his name was going to be followed by some terrible news.
She had been right, sadly, because it was a phone call from the bank. And she remembered the very words that had followed.
Your father had debts.
She remembered how she had broken out in a cold sweat, how she had almost dropped the phone, how her legs had become jelly-
She had still been sane enough to ask the amount of debt with a flat, trembling tone. They hadn’t answered her at first, instead asking her to come to the bank to talk face to face, and-
“Remind me out loud, Alicent,” Tett demanded, making her blink and come back to the present, in the locker room. “... because I believe that you might have forgotten a few crucial points.”
Alicent sighed annoyingly. Tett was nice, but he was convinced that he knew her life better than her. She swallowed her pride, though. She couldn’t argue right now, she was wanted elsewhere.
“I must become a professional tennis player, win a Grand Slam to-” she began, and her voice shook, which is why she stopped, cleared her throat and tried again. “... to repay my father’s gambling debts.”
He nodded, before asking. “Do you think you can win without playing a tennis match until the end?”
Alicent winced. Each word hit its target, but she spread her arms powerlessly, before letting them drop along her body. “What else would you have me do? The school headmaster is waiting for me. It is about my son!”
“Don’t you have any family members that could do this for you?”
Alicent saw red, and she snarled.
“You mean, the same family members who left me with all these gambling debts to repay?!” she snapped, feeling heat rising in her cheeks.
Her coach stayed silent, which allowed her to continue. “I have been training for months now, and I have finished most of my matches, which I won, by the way! I was skilled when I was young, I am not a beginner! I can do it! I just need a bit more time to sharpen my skills!”
She told the truth once again.
She had held a tennis racket since she was 5, winning many junior championships, to the point that she had been mentioned in some articles about the most promising young female tennis players, who could one day defy the biggest in a Grand Slam.
A green star is rising, in the name of Alicent Hightower!
That’s how she used to be called in some titles, and this cheesy nickname had always brought tears to her eyes. The green color was a bit stupid, though: she had just always worn a green headband and shoes…
And for all his flaws, her father had always done everything he could to help her become a tennis player. He had never recoiled at registering her at any tournament that she demanded.
He had always bought her everything that she needed, from the big-brand tennis rackets to the best shoes. He had always driven her to her long training sessions or to the many tournament matches that could take place in other cities.
It seemed that her being good at this sport was her only redeeming quality, in his eyes. At the thought, she swallowed her tears.
“I wouldn’t dream of saying that you were not,” her coach said. “You were skilled, and you still are. You have the potential to become a professional tennis player, but what you are doing right now isn’t enough, and you know it. You must work harder if you even want to be selected. You know that there are conditions to be selected in a Grand Slam, you must win three-”
“I know…” she wished to growl, but she barely forced the words out.
“The next one is Wimbledon. It is at the end of the year, and I am telling you that you are not ready-”
Alicent shook her head and began to walk around him. She had wasted too much time: Aegon was waiting for her. She pushed the heavy doors open and walked through the hallway, but her coach’s dry voice rising behind her stopped her.
“I have accepted to train you, Alicent, since you went to me and begged me…” Tett turned around to face her. “I was touched by your story. I still am, but I cannot fight in your place. Call me when you are really motivated. Until then, stop making me waste my time.”
Alicent’s whole body stiffened. She turned around, and opened her mouth, but the doors of the locker room closed by themselves, putting an end to their conversation.
Alicent stayed speechless for a moment, alone in the hallway. What did he mean by that? she thought anxiously, racking her brain and biting her nails.
Did he… did he want to abandon her? Was he tired of her?
No, no, it couldn’t be happening! She needed him, she needed a coach, she had to be trained, she had to be-
She suddenly cursed. It was serious, but she would fix it later. She didn't have any other choice but to fix it. She will call him, and convince him to accept her again. In the meantime… Aegon!
Alicent turned around and hastened towards the exit. Hopefully, this whole matter about her son and the school will be dealt with smoothly.
oOo
“Your son is a brute! It is scandalous that he is even accepted in the same school as my boy’s!”
Alicent Hightower listened to the enraged mother who was yelling at her face. She had to twist her neck to keep looking at her, as the furious mother was pacing up and down around the office.
Alicent was sitting down in the middle of the room, with her hands carefully placed over her lap. The old headmaster behind her wooden desk was watching their exchange without interfering, but everyone could see the annoyed glint shining in her eyes.
Alicent stayed calm on the surface, and yet, deep down, she just wanted to stand up and slap the mother in the face.
It would be an incredibly stupid thing to do, but at least, it would make her stop screaming her lungs out for a second. It would give all of their eardrums a rest.
Alicent could understand her anger, of course. Had she seen her son with a red and swollen cheek, she would have lashed out for hours in the headmaster office as well. No need to pretend otherwise.
And yet, Alicent kept glancing at Aegon, who was inside the office with them, sitting right next to her, and her heart ached. She didn’t want him to hear such harsh and cruel words, even if he was at fault.
Her 10-year-old son was sitting down with his head lowered and his thin shoulders drooped. His pale face looked numb.
And yet, Alicent didn’t miss the sad and upset glint in her son’s lowered eyes. He wasn't as aloof as he wanted to show.
He never pleaded for forgiveness, and he never opened his mouth to defend himself. He didn’t even glance at the classmate he injured, who was sitting at the back of the office, pressing a pack of ice against his swollen cheek.
His red eyes were shining with tears, while his split lips twisted in a wince of pain.
The second the enraged mother took a break to inhale, Alicent jumped at the chance.
“Listen, I understand your anger,” she tempered. “And I can assure you that I do not take it lightly: I will speak to my son when we are home-”
“Speak?!” the mother barked, before sneering loudly. “Look at my son’s face! He has a split lip and he lost a tooth because of this wild brute who punched him in the playground! Do you truly believe that talking will solve anything?!”
“It was a baby tooth…” Aegon muttered.
Alicent immediately looked at her boy sternly. He had not opened his mouth since the meeting started, and this is what he chose to say?
He didn’t look up, but he must have felt her displeased eyes on him, because he closed his mouth and scowled in his chair, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Of course, everyone heard him, and, if the headmaster did little more than arching a brow at this bold comment, the mother’s face darkened. She was on the verge of exploding in wrath.
At the sight, Alicent squirmed, ready to stand up and put herself between her and Aegon in case she tried to go for the throat. Luckily, she did none of that, instead snapping her head towards the headmaster.
“Do you see?!” she spat, furiously pointing a finger at Aegon. “He has no regrets, even after what he’s done! He is a violent, ill-mannered child who doesn’t have his place in his school, unless you want him to ruin the other children’s education!”
Alicent squinted angrily, as her patience grew thin. She could permit this mother’s anger, but she won’t let her drag her son’s name through the mud this way.
Aegon wasn’t ill-mannered, he was just-
“Well,” the woman suddenly sneered, looking Alicent up and down. She obviously didn’t like what she was seeing, as her lips curled up with scorn. “Now that I can see the mother, I understand why the son is this way… After all, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…”
“I am afraid I do not see what your point is...” Alicent hissed through clenched teeth.
Oh, she saw the point clearly, but she just played dumb to give her a chance to recoil. The mother didn’t. The scornful look on her face couldn’t be more obvious.
“You look very young, Ms. Hightower, if I may… How old are you? 23? When did you give birth to your son?”
Aegon snapped his head up, and he glared at her. It was funny, or quite sad, how a 10 year-old child’s eyes could be blazing with anger in such a way.
Alicent just reached out and placed a comforting hand over his knee, begging him silently to stay quiet. Then, she faced the mother’s harsh glare.
“I am confused about how my date of birth is going to help us in this situation…” she cooed, offering her a fake smile that no one could be fooled by.
She was 25, and she was 16 when she gave birth. She won’t say the answer out loud, though. She didn’t owe this mother an explanation about her pregnancy.
The headmaster felt that the tension was at its peak between the two women. She cleared her throat and intervened, addressing the mother of the wounded boy. “You have been heard. I will contact you shortly to tell you the aftermath. In the meantime, I would like to speak with the Hightower family alone.”
The mother snarled, ready to argue, but the old headmaster didn’t let her utter a single word. “You may go home now, and bring your son to a doctor, although the nurse already took care of him. Have a good afternoon.”
The mother snarled, but she must have felt that there was no point in arguing. The headmaster's stare looked too cold to be contradicted.
She huffed, rushed to her son’s side, grabbed him by the arm to make him stand, and they walked towards the exit, while throwing venomous glares at Aegon and Alicent.
Without saying goodbye, they stepped outside, and the mother slammed the door behind them.
Alicent winced, but the headmaster stayed unbothered. Something curious even happened: her sharp features softened.
“Listen, Ms. Hightower-” she began seriously, in a grim tone, but Alicent didn’t let her continue.
“Do not expel my son…” she let out. It wasn’t an order, it was a weak plea. She was almost ready to drop to her knees.
The headmaster looked at her, while her mouth thinned.
“I…” Alicent stammered, leaning forward and resting her arms over the desk. “Aegon will apologize to the boy he hit, and I will punish him, but please-”
“This incident isn’t my only concern, if I am being honest…” the headmaster interrupted her, but without hostility. She even spoke in a gentle tone, all things considered. “Aegon’s grades dropped, lately…”
She paused to glance at Aegon, who shrank in his chair.
As she got nothing from the boy, she focused on Alicent once again, before she continued in a professional tone. “His teachers have informed me that he is barely paying attention in class: he is not writing down his lessons, he doesn’t participate in class…”
Alicent sighed in defeat. She couldn’t say that she was surprised.
Aegon had never been a thorough student, struggling with reading, but his grades had always been correct and she had never been informed of discipline problems.
That was before the phone call, though.
She knew that her debts upset her son deeply, impacting his grades, and now having him get physically violent-
The icy claws of guilt grasped her belly and scratched raw.
“We happen to go through a rough time,” Alicent revealed, squirming in her chair. “We have some money problems, to tell you the truth…” she looked down. “I am doing my best to fix it, but it is tough, and my son-”
She stopped talking. She looked at Aegon, who stayed mute next to her. She bit her lower lip, before giving the headmaster a pleading look.
“Please, do not punish my son for the sins of others…” she whispered, cursing her father mentally. He had not only ruined her childhood, he would ruin his grandson’s too. “Give him one more chance, just one more, that’s all I am asking you, and I can assure you that he will improve…”
The headmaster stayed silent for a while, considering the pair sternly. Her cold eyes bounced between them, and Alicent believed that she kept holding her breath the whole time.
She was probably staring at the headmaster with pleading, big, puppy eyes, while Aegon was fascinated by his feet.
“I will think about it,” the headmaster ended up announcing, breaking the heavy silence. “For now, your son stays home. I will call you, Ms. Hightower, when my decision is made. You may leave.”
Alicent drew a shaky breath and ran a hand over her face. Well, it wasn’t great, but at least, there was still hope.
She thanked the headmaster warmly, while Aegon was already on his feet. Mother and son left the office, and the school in silence. They drove home without uttering a single word either, no matter how many times Alicent glanced at her son, hoping he would open up to her.
He didn’t, turning his back on her as much as he could on his seat, struggling against his seat-belt. He almost glued his face against the car window.
As soon as they arrived home, Aegon tossed aside his little backpack and he stepped over some pile of dirty clothes that had been gathered hastily in a corner.
He was already on his way to his bedroom, at the back of the apartment.
Alicent removed her coat as she entered the living-kitchen room, and she stopped him at the last moment, when his little hand gripped the hand door.
“Where are you going?” she asked sternly. “Come here, we must talk…”
“You stink,” Aegon just said, without hostility, but without kindness either. He didn’t even turn around to face her. “Take a shower.”
Alicent stood dumbly, while her mouth worked silently. It gave Aegon enough time to step inside his small bedroom and close the door behind him.
Now alone, Alicent raised one arm and smelled her armpit. She threw her head back and winced at the sudden smell of sweat.
Her son was right, she feared. And truth be told, she really needed a shower. She sighed in defeat and threw her coat on the sofa. Well, their big, important talk will have to wait.
She walked inside the small - very small - bathroom, closed the door whose painting started to crack, and she stripped herself. Then, she looked at herself through the dirty mirror, reflecting a blurry image of her face.
She shuddered suddenly, now that she was naked. The air was cold, biting her to the bone, but she didn’t turn out the heating. Too expensive.
She opened the tap and watched as the water was barely drained. The sink was clogged again. She sighed, turned around, and she finally got into the shower, using only lukewarm water to wash herself.
Hot water was for Aegon.
While she showered, she looked down and noticed some bruises coloring the skin of her thighs. Her ribs poked through her skin.
She threw her head back and forced herself to watch the white ceiling, running away from the poor sight of her bruised, thin body.
When she was showered and dressed, she stepped outside and walked to the living-kitchen. She opened the fridge that was so small that she had to lean over to grasp the handle.
She stifled a sigh at the sight of the empty shelves. She could spot four yogurt pots, some leftovers of the yesterday meal (a bowl of buttered noodles) one bottle of milk that she took and shook a bit close to her ear.
Almost empty.
She closed the fridge, stood straight, opened a cupboard, and grabbed a tin can. It was easy to cook. She missed the hours she could spend in her former kitchen, cooking delicious and healthy meals for herself and her son.
When she used to have the time. When she used to have enough money.
When she used to be happy-
“Aegon, at the table!” she called her son, who arrived rather quickly. He set the table, and he sat down on his chair, keeping his head down.
Alicent served them the small raviolis that floated in a red sauce. Then, she sat down in front of Aegon, who barely ate, instead pushing his food around the plate with his fork.
Alicent kept watching him worryingly between two bites, before she decided to intervene.
“Eat, Aegon... You can’t be thin if you develop a taste for fights…” she deadpanned, before asking seriously. “What happened at school? Can you tell me?”
Aegon’s face hardened, but he said nothing. He just kept eating slowly, or pushing his food around his plate, while avoiding her eyes.
Alicent sighed faintly, and then-
“I cleaned my bike this morning,” Aegon said suddenly, making her look up. “I took a few pictures of it, from different angles. They are all in your computer, you just have to check your emails. You can make an advert, on the Internet, post the pictures, I don't know. I'm sure it will be sold quickly…”
Alicent stared at her son, so young, and yet uttering such adult words. She put down her fork, dragged her chair back, and she said in a soft voice. “Aegon, come here…”
He obeyed. He stood up, dragged his feet towards her, with his head lowered. Once he was standing in front of her, she gently took his chin between her thumb and forefinger.
Her touch was soft, feather-like, and she spoke only when he looked her in the eye. “What did I tell you about this…?”
Aegon exhaled through the nose, but he didn’t shove her fingers away.
“… that you were going to handle it,” he muttered under his breath, sounding unconvinced, but Alicent stood firm.
She couldn’t blame him for being hopeless. Even she could admit that her plan of resuming her tennis career to win a Grand Slam had its flaws. It was just the only possibility she had.
This or… prostitute herself.
“That is correct,” she nodded. “I will repay everything, and you won’t sell anything that belongs to you,” she meant every word.
He just wanted to help, she knew, but she won’t let him sacrifice the very few things that he possessed. He deserved to have a normal childhood, as normal as possible, at least.
Aegon blinked down, made a face, but he didn’t protest, which allowed Alicent to lean forward and kiss his cheek.
At first, her son didn’t react. He was used to being kissed on the cheek or on the forehead, but this time, Alicent decided to pester him: she kissed his cheek again and again, before blowing a raspberry, which made him throw his head back and chuckle.
“You really stink!” he whined, but this time, his voice shook in amusement.
“Liar!” She grinned, before standing up and trapping him in her arms. She feigned struggle, but she just hugged him. “I just showered!”
“You didn’t scrub enough-”
“That’s the price you have to pay for having a soon-to-be professional tennis player as your mother, little boy!” she joked, nuzzling his cheek.
He smiled in her arms. It was weak, and it wavered immediately after the corners of his lips twitched up, but it was still a smile.
Alicent would do anything to see Aegon smile more often.
oOo
Alicent was just starting to drift to sleep on her sofa when her phone buzzed on the table. At first, she groaned against her pillow and she considered not moving, but a tiny voice in her head urged her to answer.
She whined, rolled over, feeling her muscles ache. Fuck, she had forgotten about her stretching. What a diligent tennis player she was!
She cracked one eye open, and she groggily reached for her phone, barely keeping her eyes open. Once in her hand, she unlocked her screen, before she squinted: the strong light attacked her poor eyes.
She noticed that it was 4 am, and she felt anger welling up inside her. It was the middle of the night! She growled, and picked up angrily. She pressed her phone against her ear before hissing in a low voice. “Who the fuck calls at 4 am-”
“Ms. Alicent Hightower?” a sudden female voice interrupted her.
Without knowing why, Alicent opened her eyes fully, straightened her back and threw her shoulders back. This female voice sounded way too firm for her to stay sprawled out across the hard sofa that she was using like the bed it wasn't.
“Yeah, who’s asking?” Alicent asked, half-sleepy, and half-annoyed.
“Good evening. I am Rhaenyra Targaryen,” the female voice answered politely. “Am I interrupting something or can I state the purpose of my call right away?”
Alicent froze, and she arched her brow. What the fuck? At first, she stayed motionless, trying to process what she was hearing.
Then, she rolled her eyes, and she snorted.
“Yeah, sure, and I am the Queen of England!” she sneered, voice dripping with sarcasm. She didn’t have the time for a dumb prank. She was about to hang up when the feminine voice talked again.
“You played well yesterday, Ms. Hightower, although I found myself frustrated when you forfeited. You would have beaten your opponent, had you kept playing. You were mostly dominated in the first game, you didn’t trust your legs enough and the muscles of your back were too tense. It appears that you have trouble dealing with your anxiety and the tiniest unforeseen event makes you panic, but the second set would have been yours-”
The clear and calm voice kept talking, but Alicent stopped listening. She blinked like a dumb child, while the words were slowly making their way into the few competent parts of her foggy brain.
Fuck, it is really her, Rhaenyra Targaryen is calling me! she suddenly realized, and it felt like someone had just poured a huge basin of cold water onto her face.
She bolted upright, and her mouth worked silently for a while. To her credit, the coach on the phone patiently waited for her to pull herself together and utter an answer.
“Oh, I am so, so sorry,” Alicent hastened to apologize, running a shaking hand through her long, messy hair. How can she be so stupid? How can she speak to Rhaenyra Targaryen this way?
“I didn’t mean to d-disrespect you-”
“I would like us to meet…” Rhaenyra declared calmly, as if Alicent hadn’t opened her mouth. All things considered, ignoring Alicent’s weak apologies was probably the wisest decision.
“Do you have your schedule displayed, to check on your availability, Ms. Hightower?”
Alicent blinked at Rhaenyra’s unshaken tone. Fuck, Alicent could start singing a Christmas song and Rhaenyra would still sound perfectly collected...
Maybe the rumors about the coach having a heart made of steel were true. The tennis players that she trained had always denied such affirmations, but they could have been asked to lie to journalists.
Alicent pulled herself together when she remembered that Rhaenyra had just asked her a question, and was patiently waiting for an answer, and… what a weird question it was!
Why would Alicent have her damn schedule before her eyes, right now? She had been sleeping, it was 4 am! Did this wealthy, prestigious Targaryen coach know a thing or two about sleeping?
And besides, why was she calling her? What did she want with her? Alicent should ask her, and she should sound firm and-
“Yes, I do,” it just came out. Alicent had no idea why such a lie slipped out of her lips.
It was too late to recoil anyway. She heard Rhaenyra hum pleasingly through the phone, before the quick noise of pages being flipped followed.
“Are you free today, this afternoon?” the tennis coach asked, between double-clicks.
“Err…” Alicent stammered, rubbing her forehead with the tip of her thumb. She was trying to think, in vain. “Yes, yes, I am… I think so…” No, she didn’t.
How could she know? She didn’t have her calendar before her eyes. Did she even have one? She had no idea. She’ll have to check on her computer later.
“That’s perfect. 4 pm, at my training center. Is that meeting point convenient to you, or do you want to pick another place?”
Convenient? Not at all. The Targaryen's training center was very far from Alicent’s apartment, and besides, she was certain that the few parking lots surrounding the area were full.
“Oh, it’s fine…” she still lied.
“Then, it is settled,” Rhaenyra Targaryen sounded pleased. “Have a nice day, Ms. Hightower.”
“Err, thanks, you t-too-” Alicent couldn’t even end her pitiful stammering properly, because Rhaenyra hung up.
Alicent stayed frozen on her sofa for a while, her hand uselessly holding her phone close to her ear. She briefly wondered if she imagined this phone call.
Either way, she was unable to sleep a wink after this.