CRISIS OF MY FAITH / CHAPTER SIX.

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If the Targaryens were closer to gods than mortals, Meliana had been an unwelcome witness to their humanity more times than she could count.

The day King Viserys Targaryen announced his engagement to the teenage Alicent Hightower, the princess returned to her chambers stomping like an angered child who had just been slapped across the face. At first, Meliana simply stood and stared with a bit of horror as the princess said nothing and, without even acknowledging her presence, raised a vase above her head before throwing it on the ground and breaking it into pieces. The moment the handmaiden saw the flowers on the ground—a gift from Otto Hightower himself, or at least that was what the maid that brought them earlier that morning said—she knew exactly what had happened. And yet, she remained silent, as the princess continued on her pursuit to wreck as many breakable objects as possible. The loud noises attracted the guards, but once they saw that the princess was not in danger and that Meliana was motioning for them to leave, they didn't intervene either.

By the time Rhaenyra was done, Meliana couldn't hold back her smart mouth anymore. "That mirror sure got what was coming for it," she said. She immediately wanted to kick herself for saying something like that to the clearly very upset person she was working for, but didn't take it back either. Comments like these are going to get you killed one day, she thought to herself.

The blonde girl turned to look at her and only then did Meliana realise that the princess was crying as she was doing all that damage. Her dark eyes widened slightly and she took a step closer. "Princess...?"

She was aware that the announcement of King Viserys' new marriage would be hard on his only daughter, especially considering it would be with a close friend of hers. By all accounts, she should have expected such a reaction from the temperamental princess, but as much as she was ready to witness the anger, the complete betrayal in her eyes caught her off guard. For a moment, she felt like a snake—being aware of such an enormous secret that would change not only Rhaenyra's life but the fate of the entire Realm and still, not giving her a warning. For a moment, she felt a pang in her chest that she recognised as genuine regret.

But then the moment passed, and Meliana did exactly what she was supposed to do—she kept quiet and comforted Rhaenyra; fake words, empty gestures and all. She agreed with the princess' words when she vented over how her own friend betrayed her like that, how she lied to her face for so long and went behind her back with such sick and twisted intentions. Meliana nodded, wiping her tears away and providing some stability for the princess, even though her own thoughts were so conflicting. She could not tell whether Alicent was a mere victim of her father's ambitions or if she was on board with the whole plan of getting the king to marry her so she could become the queen. Her last conversation with the Hightower girl had blurred the lines, instead of clearing things up for her and she could only make assumptions of the young girl's motives.

Whatever the truth was, it did not matter much to Meliana. King Viserys could have married an otter and nothing would change in her life—at the end of the day, she was still a servant. Who she served was barely a concern anymore.

The mere act of being there for Rhaenyra when no one else was made the girl even more attached to her, if possible. The times she spent with Alicent now were replaced by time she spent with Meliana, using excuses and slowly bending the rules until the handmaiden no longer felt like a servant around the Red Keep, but one of the noble ladies the princess was expected to be around. It hadn't gone unnoticed; Meliana could feel the envious gaze of the rest of the maids every time she returned to the servants' rooms. Of course, it was difficult to feel touched by their disapproval and jealousy when she had the favour of a Targaryen.

The only times she felt her shoulders slump was when she'd catch Alicent looking at her, but she knew better than to approach her, especially while Rhaenyra was watching. Last thing Meliana wanted was to make the princess feel betrayed by another person she considered a friend—perhaps the next time she would break a vase it would be on Meliana's head.

Another good thing that came out of this was how she was able to spend more time with her brother. Criston was Rhaenyra's personal sworn shield, which meant that whenever she'd go, he'd follow, similarly to his sister. Two members of House Cole wrapped around the princess' finger, becoming her trusted companions. If only Derron Cole could see that—though Meliana suspected he would be happier about the prospect of two of his children actually getting along rather about their relationship with the daughter of the king. One of the man's biggest regrets, as he often said back home, was that he never got to see all of his children live together like a real family. Now, with one of them protecting Rhaenyra and the other one tending to her, this was the closest thing they'd ever achieve to his dream.

It was strange, she thought as she watched the princess mount her dragon, Syrax—she knew this complete stranger better than she knew any member of her family, including her half-brother that stood right next to her, the same curious look on his face as the creature leaves the ground. She knew her every quirk, every little thing that ticked her off, every way to distract her from her anger. All she knew about Criston was the stories he'd tell the girls about his days fighting at the Dornish borders when Rhaenyra asked about his adventures, and that he was a skilled enough warrior to unmount and beat someone like Daemon Targaryen. As it was, that didn't feel like enough.

"It's a strange sight to see, no?" she said, taking in the silence between them. "A beast like that, obeying commands from a mere human, as if it's a dog."

"Targaryens are not mere humans," Criston sighed. He took his eyes off the sky and looked at his sister. "They look like it, of course. But no mere human could control a dragon like that."

Meliana's lips twitched in amusement. "I suppose I should give up my dream of becoming a dragon-rider, then?" she asked.

In her relief, Criston laughs. "While I'm not particularly glad to be the one to crush your dreams, I'm afraid it will have to remain that; a dream," he said.

"A shame. I've always wanted a pet."

"And instead you became one," he said. If he was saying that as a joke or not, she could not tell; the twinkle in his eyes remained a mystery.

It was difficult to take his words personally when she could see exactly what he meant. Everything about her life revolved around the princess. What was she, if not a loyal dog at her feet, always available for her? She wasn't a friend—Rhaenyra was naive enough to believe that, but Meliana was hardened enough by life to know that real friendship required choice and she had none.

She cleared her throat. "We," she corrected him. "Both of us work for the Targaryens. It's the same fate, only I have less chances to get killed for them."

Criston nodded. "I suppose you're right there," he said. "I choose to view it as an honour, though. An honour, I am certain now I owe to you." When she raised her eyebrow, he continued. "I have noticed the effect you have on the princess. She seems to listen to you, to trust you. You had told me you had nothing to do with the princess' decision to choose me as her shield, but I'm beginning to think you weren't entirely truthful."

"I didn't tell her to—"

"Yes, I know," he cuts her off. "I am not saying that you could command a princess or anything of the sort. I am only saying that the princess had you in mind when she made her decision, at least partially— consciously or not."

"And that is bad?" she asked, frowning.

Criston let out a chuckle. "Maybe for my ego. But that is not the point. You basically agreed earlier, when I called you the princess' pet, but it is not true. You're something more by now. Surely you can see that as I do."

Meliana pressed her lips into a thin line, not knowing what to reply to that. It almost felt like, if she admitted what she was doing, everyone would be able to see right through her.

Her half-brother looked almost amused, or even impressed as he continued to stare at the flying dragon in the distance. "I think you are smarter than anyone has ever given you credit for."

Now she knew just one more thing about Criston—he was good at reading people, or maybe just reading her. Whether that was good or bad, she had yet to figure out.

The day of the wedding, Meliana spent half of the day believing that, unbeknownst to her, the princess had taken a vow of silence. Rhaenyra wasted the entire day up to one hour before the wedding in her chambers, refusing to speak or accept her father's numerous invitations (more like pleads) to have a talk. Stubborn as always, she seemed to find a tiny spark of joy in causing her father a bit of stress before his wedding to Alicent, like some sort of petty revenge; a guard had asked Meliana whether the princess would attend the wedding at all and the girl simply shrugged, not knowing what to reply. 

"Your grace, please," Meliana sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed, where she laid above the covers of. "I understand how uncomfortable this situation must be for you, but you cannot not attend your own father's wedding."

Rhaenyra bit the inside of her cheek. "I did not say I wouldn't attend it."

"Yes, but the way you're acting is..." To put it plain and simple, it was childish, but she knew she couldn't say that. "What I am trying to say is that it is not just your father who is getting married tonight. It is your king."

"I am perfectly aware of my duties, thank you very much," the Targaryen scowled. Then her expression dropped again, into something almost pity-worthy. "This is unfair..." she murmured. "My father, he— after what happened to my mother, he should know better..."

Meliana wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but she didn't want to ask. It seemed easy for her to understand why Rhaenyra was mad at Alicent, but it was harder to point the exact reason why she was so mad at her father; whether it was the disturbing feeling of seeing her late mother being replaced, the betrayal of not being told until the decision was already made or whether she was upset at the idea of her previous friend being whisked away from her. Perhaps it was a mixture of all three at the same time.

Meliana could understand her anger, but she was also tired of being witness of Rhaenyra's tantrums and having to answer for her to everyone else. "As valid as your frustrations are, princess, I think we both know that you will end up attending the wedding, no matter your concerns," she said, talking sweetly as if talking to a small child.

The moment Rhaenyra opened her mouth to reply, another knock on the door interrupted them. The Targaryen girl groaned the same time as Meliana did—when she opened the door, she saw it was Criston. "The king asked for the princess to help the bride get ready," he said, loud enough so Rhaenyra could hear.

She let out a bitter laugh. "He should have known that this, right now, is the last thing I want to do." Criston and Meliana exchanged a look—both wondering how many times the king would be able to hear the word no before exploding.

"Princess—" Meliana started, hoping to persuade her.

"No," she cuts her off. "If Alicent is in such dire need of assistance to put her wedding dress on, then maybe she should not get married at all."

Meliana let out an exasperated sigh. "Princess—"

Rhaenyra walked to her. "Do me a favour and go in my place," she said. It did not look like an order, considering how she was giving Meliana her biggest puppy dog eyes to convince her. "I could send any other handmaiden, but perhaps if I send the one closest and dearest to me, my father will see it as an act of good will and stop pestering me."

The girl wasn't entirely sure how to react to the idea, but the thought of being able to see the bride before the king himself was a bit tempting—no other reason, surely, than the fact she wouldn't be able to attend the wedding in the first place. She preferred that to the alternative; the alternative being that she simply wanted to be alone with Alicent Hightower. "Alright," she finally said. "I will do it, if you promise to get prepared as well."

Rhaenyra smiled for the first time in those past few days. "Thank you, Lia," she said and gave her a kiss on the cheek that made Meliana's face flush red despite herself. Through her peripheral vision, she could see the surprise etched on Criston's face before it dropped to its natural neutral expression.

She turns to her half-brother with an apologetic little smile. "Take me to Alicent Hightower, then."

When Meliana entered the room, the soon-to-be Queen was all alone, no other maids in sight. What was even more surprising, however, was that she was already wearing her wedding dress.

The wedding gown's shade of white seemed to carry a whispered hint of gold, giving a special kind of glow to the girl's face that would otherwise be there simply for the fact she was getting married. The sleeves of the dress stopped at her elbows, revealing an underlayer of deep red fabric falling down like cascading water—or blood, for that matter. Meliana's eyes focused on the leathery dragon-like wings forming a regal 'V' on Alicent's chest, leading to the Targaryen sigil, like anyone needed a reminder of who she was marrying. Despite the dress being beautiful, there was something deeply disturbing about the 'V' shape of the wings. It was as if she was being marked as king Viserys' property, like an object if not an animal.

And yet, Meliana could not even properly process her thoughts as she found herself momentarily breathless at the sight. Alicent was absolutely beautiful. Seven hells.

Upon seeing who entered her room, Alicent's breath seemed to hitch the same way. "Meliana...?"

"I was— the, uh, king—" She cleared her throat and tried to clear her head too, from all those ridiculous thoughts she was having. "Did you dress yourself, my lady?" she finally asked, her brows furrowed in confusion. "I- I was asked by the princess to come here and help you get prepared."

Alicent's expression shifted into something she couldn't decode as anything other than melancholic acceptance. "I knew she would not come herself," she said quietly. "I thought I might as well do it on my own."

Her auburn hair flowed down her shoulders in loose waves and had clearly not been touched yet. "I can still help," Meliana blurted out without thinking much. She took a step forward, motioning to the girl's hair. "I- I want to help, if you would let me."

Please kick me out, she thought, a million conflicting thoughts in her head at the same time. Please don't let me get close, for a girl like me life is hard enough already.

"Or perhaps you would prefer for me to call someone else—"

"No," Alicent shook her head. "No, it's... fine. I would appreciate the help very much." She stares at her reflection in the mirror as Meliana comes from behind her to take a better look at the redheaded girl's hair. It was brushed already and looked just fine the way it was, but she knew it would not be appropriate for a wedding, especially to a king.

She began weaving intricate braids, her fingers moving gently and with care as to not accidentally hurt the other girl, who seemed preoccupied with staring at her reflection. "How are you feeling?" Meliana asked her, hoping that her voice would not betray her emotions. "You must be... elated."

"Yes," Alicent said, struggling to sound anything but flat. "Of course I am." Then, more quietly, as if she understood Meliana knew better, she asked, "Do you suppose... all brides feel this way before their wedding?"

"I imagine it to be nerve-wracking. It is a big day, after all, for both you and the Realm," Meliana nodded, getting to another strand of hair. "I just hope," she cleared her throat and her voice came out softer than she intended it to, "it's everything you dreamt of."

Alicent sighed. "When you were younger, did you ever dream of your wedding?" she asked, not entirely sure if it was a rhetorical question herself.

Meliana had to think about it. For as long as she could remember, the topic of marriage was not a happy one for her. She had never seen a happy marriage in her life—her father fell out of love with his wife long before he stopped having children with her and Meliana served as the reminder of that void between them. The couple that lived the closest to them seemed happy enough, until the day the woman came knocking on their door, asking for help because, in his drunken haze, her husband had thrown her across the room, causing her head to hit the edge of a table and then proceeded to abandon her. Marriage was nothing but the wheel of women's suffering, she had realized from a young age. It was to keep the men happy and the women despaired and trapped under their own misery.

Love was different. She never made the mistake of confusing love and marriage, mainly because the two rarely ever existed within each other's realms. Staring at the young girl in front of her, it felt like she was preparing her for war and not a wedding.

"Yes," she admitted. She wanted to add, Though I believe it always turned out to be a nightmare, but she didn't, not wanting to add onto the anxiety of the girl in front of her.

"I always thought that, when I'd get married, Rhaenyra would be there, by my side," Alicent managed to say after a moment. Her words were careful, but vulnerable enough to not be considered as such. "I never thought it would come to the point where she... doesn't even want to look at me."

The slight tremble in her voice made Meliana's heart sink and not just out of compassion. "She does not hate you, if that is what you're thinking about, my lady," she said after clearing her throat. She had to focus on weaving the auburn hair in front of her, because if she focused on her feelings instead, she would go insane. "Princess Rhaenyra does not have a mean bone in her body. She just needs time." And you'll have plenty of time around each other, considering you're marrying her father. She kept this snarky little addition to herself.

"Time," Alicent repeated half-heartedly. "And until I'm back in her good graces—if that ever happens—I should make peace with the fact I'll be a queen with no one to turn to." She sounded so utterly defeated that it made Meliana want to take her hand and make a run for it. How long would they be able to run before someone stopped them and she ended up executed for kidnapping the future wife of the king, she wondered. "Considering everything... and as ridiculous as it might sound to you, lately it feels like the only person I can talk to is you, Meliana."

It did sound ridiculous. It also sounded like the very best thing Meliana had ever heard.

Despite that fact, her exterior barely changed. She remained composed as she tended to the future queen's hair. "I would like for you to consider me a friend, your grace," she said, regretting the wishful thinking the moment she expressed it. At least the hair was done now—a crown of auburn locks that made her look as regal as ever, in Meliana's opinion at least.

Alicent looked at herself in the mirror—she didn't look disappointed or disapproving of how her hair turned out, so that was a good sign. And then, through the mirror, her eyes focused on the handmaiden. "Call me Alicent, please," she said.

The trained answer came out quicker than she had anticipated. "That would be inappropriate, considering in less than an hour you will be my Queen."

A small smile graced Alicent Hightower's lips and, as much as it looked out of place considering the circumstances, it made Meliana's heart skip a few beats. "Then I would be honored to be just Alicent to you, even when you're forced to call me Queen."

Meliana smiled back at her and that was that. She was a goner.

✷ I FINALLY UPDATED HI. i was supposed to have this ready and post it for the fic's one year anniversary (october 9th btw!! its been a year!!) but the writers block combined with my laziness and lack of motivation to do anything but rot in bed while playing sims 4 made it impossible.

✷ let me know your thoughts about this chapter and meliana's character and dynamic with the other characters~!! i think its really fun to write a character who can barely ever express what they think/who they are, she's sort of a mirror to anyone she's interacting with, she becomes who they need her to be which results to her not really having a solid sense of identity (not until much later at least).

✷ oh and to celebrate the anniversary of the fic, i come bearing gifts AKA a bunch of silly little graphics i made for the fic while thinking about it (which is all the time to be fair.) anyways enjoy i guess :p

(modern au melicent????? it was all i could think about for an entire week bc can u IMAGINE how fun that would be???? anyways same angst would ensue w their canonical version but still)

and for the poor unfortunate souls that might ship meliana and rhaenyra... here, have this

okay bye !! <3