Chapter Text
Rhaenyra hadn’t been lying when she’d told Alicent that Christmas mornings were her favorite mornings; only, that admission had solely been due to Alicent’s voice being the first that she’d heard on this particular Christmas morning. For the whole truth, as it was, was that Rhaenyra hadn’t had a Christmas morning worth waking up to in years. Not since her mother had passed away, and not since before Alicent.
Rhaenyra had not many things, since before Alicent.
It was embarrassing, really, how eager Rhaenyra had been to start this day. How Rhaenyra had lied in bed for hours, completely awake, fully awake and before the sun, just simply waiting to begin this day. Just simply waiting to begin this day with Alicent, as it was.
Really, Rhaenyra had felt herself a fool, what with how red her cheeks had gone this Christmas morning, only simply at the sight of a light turning on in the damn kitchen. Only simply at the knowledge that Alicent had woken up at last, had decided to grace the kitchen, the world, with her presence on this particular Christmas day.
Only simply at Alicent.
And what lovely of a gift it was, sharing space with Alicent on Christmas day. Sharing words with Alicent on Christmas day. They’d not had much time, save for a couple of phone calls and short glances across a Christmas tree, sat in a room that had two too many people in it for Rhaenyra’s liking.
But it had been a day with Alicent in it, and so nonetheless it had been good.
Rhaenyra would’ve liked to go back now, to go back to the house and spend just the last few moments of the day with Alicent. Selfishly, she just wanted more time, as always, she did. She just wanted a few more moments before the day was over, simply to sit with Alicent and laugh at the wit of the woman. To sit with her and talk about what was between them, the things they had yet to say, not fully.
(I’ll leave him.)
Did you mean it, or is that just one of those things that people—
(Yes, I meant it.)
The commitments they had yet to make and the plans they had yet to set.
(I’m going to do that, and then we’ll figure out everything else after.)
Rhaenyra Targaryen, famously, undoubtedly, was not a patient person. And so how she just wanted to figure it all out now, at once. To figure it all out now, quickly, to fill in every blank left unspoken before nothing was left at all.
Because undoubtedly was the chance that nothing could be left at all.
(Rhaenyra, what do you even think can come of this?)
Rhaenyra wanted to go back now, to go back to Alicent and tell her that, actually, she knew what could come of this. She knew what would come of them, when everything was settled and right. She’d tell Alicent of the plans she’d been thinking of for them, of the homes south of Dragonstone that she’d been browsing through, of the jobs Rhaenyra was thinking to apply for just support them. Rhaenyra wanted to go back and tell it all, to share it all now.
But of course, now was not an option. Alicent was at home alone on Christmas day and still now was not an option. Rhaenyra was at a party she’d wanted to ditch before she’d arrived and still now was not an option.
And so, Rhaenyra would have to settle for that phone call, short and sweet and taken on the back patio of Margaery’s home. After Rhaenyra ended the call, bid Alicent farewell with a promise of later, she tucked her phone into her coat pocket. Margaery stood beside her as she did, watching her with that same knowing smirk.
“Yes, Marge?” Rhaenyra didn’t have to ask to know that something was itching the tip of Margaery’s tongue.
Margaery leaned against the railing of her patio, smoking a cigarette. “So, that was Ms. H.”
It was a statement more than anything, and so Rhaenyra just shrugged.
Margaery took a drag from her cigarette and blew smoke into the chilled air around them. Rhaenyra crunched her nose at the smell, wafted it away with her hands.
“Since when did entertaining that become a smart idea, Rhaenyra?” Margaery took another drag, her reddened cheeks sinking in with the pull of it.
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and plucked the cigarette from Margaery’s fingers. She tossed it to the icy ground and crumpled it beneath her boot. “Since when did entertaining packs of Marlboros become a smart idea, Margaery? I could’ve sworn we left these things in grade school.”
“I only smoke at parties. And besides, it’s mysterious and attractive when I smoke. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it.” Margaery huffed, a smirk on her lips as she lifted herself to sit on the railing. “And don’t avoid my question. What the hell is going on there, Rhaenyra, and why are you doing it?”
Rhaenyra averted her eyes, choosing instead to watch specks of frozen rain fall into the lake a few feet down and away.
“I already told you. It’s nothing. She’s just… she’s become a friend. It’s hard not to enjoy someone’s company when you’re living under their roof, that’s all.” Rhaenyra leaned against the cold railing, the sleeves of her coat wetting with the slick of it.
Margaery scoffed. “Darling, I am many things save for dumb and blind. Look, I’m not judging you, alright? I just think you should seek a second opinion about whatever is going on. I’m your second opinion.”
Rhaenyra groaned. “When I’m in need of that second opinion, Margaery, I will come to you. Alright? Can we leave it at that for now, please?”
Margaery hopped down from the railing, and Rhaenyra reached out a hand to steady her.
“Unsolicited opinion, then—.”
“Oh by the Go—.”
“I think it’s hot. And in some twisted way, it’s an adorable meet cute, if you’re into that. I’m into that,” Margaery said as she unwrapped a stick of gum, casually, as if they weren’t at all speaking about exactly what they were speaking about. “But there’s no way it ends well, babe. Not for you, not for Ms. H, and certainly not for Aemond.”
Rhaenyra swallowed, her throat dry from the cold or from Margaery’s words. “Can we just go inside now?”
(He’s my best friend.)
(I know. He’s my son.)
Rhaenyra hadn’t even really acknowledged the truth or falsity of Margaery’s words, hadn’t confirmed or denied anything at all. But the sad smile Margaery threw her way said Rhaenyra didn’t have to.
Margaery headed back inside before Rhaenyra did, walking through the sliding door with a casual strut in her steps as though she hadn’t just made Rhaenyra physically ill. Rhaenyra took a moment to stand behind on the patio, composing herself, hoping the cold air would rid her face of the heartache she knew sat there.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket just as Rhaenyra took a step towards the sliding door, just as cold hands met metal. She pulled the vibrating thing out of the back pocket of her coat, already cursing Margaery for not giving her a damn minute before asking for her ETA.
7:47 PM
Alicent: Don’t answer the phone
Rhaenyra scrunched her nose, her head tilting to the side as if to make sense of those words. She kept the text thread open, just staring at it in case Alicent might send another text (hopefully) explaining that one. Another text didn’t come, not even after Rhaenyra had been staring at the blue and white messages for at least two minutes.
The phone rang, though. The phone rang in her hands and for some reason Rhaenyra felt her insides go sour, her body go colder than the air suffocating her.
Don’t answer.
Alicent had been clear in her text, even if Rhaenyra hadn’t immediately understood it. For whatever reason, and by whatever design, Alicent had been unmistakable in that Rhaenyra would shortly be receiving a call and that Rhaenyra absolutely should not answer it. So, really, Rhaenyra couldn’t fathom why the hell she accepted the call anyway.
She didn’t say anything when she answered. She just stood silently on the far side of Margaery’s patio with the phone held against her ear. Shaking against her ear.
“Who the hell is this, huh?” Criston’s voice, screaming. “Talking sweet to my wife a minute ago and now you’re silent then, is it?”
Rhaenrya wanted to hang up, should’ve hung up, but she only just stood there. Not speaking, probably barely breathing.
“I said who the fuck is th—.”
Rhaenyra heard Alicent’s voice next, from somewhere in the background. It was panicked, timid in a way that made Rhaenyra nauseous. “Criston, you don’t have the right to just take my—.”
“Shut up! Shut the hell up, I don’t want to hear a damn thing you have to say, you fucking cheating wh—.”
Rhaenyra hung up then, her body moving on its own accord. Her feet took her into Margaery’s house, through the sliding door and into the living room Aemond was sat in, playing cards with a few of their teammates.
“Aem, I’m not well. I’m-I’m not well, can we go home?” Rhaenyra could barely hear the sound of her own voice, not over how loudly her heart was beating. Not over how loudly her ears were ringing.
And then Aemond was nodding, his face surely concerned in the way it always was.
“You look like shit, Rhaenyra.”
And then Aemond was standing up and putting his arms around her, guiding her out of the house as if to keep her from falling sick. Rhaenyra probably looked like she would fall sick, any moment now.
“I’ve got you; I’ve got you.”
And it was embarrassing, really, how eager Rhaenyra had been to start this day.
***
There was just yelling upstairs when Rhaenyra and Aemond walked into his house, the sound of drawers and doors slamming. Rhaenyra’s ears were still ringing as they walked through the door, her body still cold even enclosed now by the warmth of the house. Aemond sat Rhaenyra down onto the bottom stair, brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face.
“Stay here, alright? I’ll be right back to check on you, alright? I’ve got to see what the hell is going on up there. My mom and dad—.”
Rhaenyra shook her head, her mouth wet the way it usually got when she’d soon be sick.
“No, no. Don’t worry about me. You go, I’m alright.”
Rhaenyra sunk against the hardwood of the staircase as Aemond ran upstairs. Her face fell into her hands, and her body trembled so harshly she could hear herself creaking against the staircase. Because surely, it would all be going to hell tonight. Everything, even all that wasn’t anything yet.
Criston probably knew, or he would know soon. And then Aemond, he’d—
I love you and you love me and the things that should matter to us both just don’t.
You’re still married, I’m still Aemond’s best friend, and I fucking love you.
Do you still need me like that?
(You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.)
Rhaenyra couldn’t bring herself to move from the bottom of the staircase. All she heard in her ears was the sound of herself, trembling against the hardwood. The sound of the family fighting upstairs. A family she’d inserted herself into and just fucking torn apart.
“You’re a goddamn whore, aren’t you, Alicent?! This holier than thou attitude can only last—.”
“Call my mother out of her name again, and I swear I’ll wipe the floor with you! I swear it, you slimy piece of—!”
Someone slapped someone, or slammed someone. Rhaenyra wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t fucking move. She couldn’t fucking breath, not even.
The only thing that broke her out of her stupor, her stillness on the staircase, was the sound of Alicent yelling, or crying.
“Stop it Criston, he’s just a boy, stop it! Criston, please, get off of him! Get off of him!”
And then Rhaenyra was running up the stairs. Flying up the stairs, her body moving before her thoughts could even catch up. Chest tightening with each step, feet pounding towards Alicent’s voice, or Aemonds. Feet pounding towards the both of them. The frantic sound of shouting echoed in her ears, beating against them like a drum.
Criston had Aemond held against the far wall of the bedroom when Rhaenyra reached it, his arms holding his son back as his mouth yelled in his face.
“You want to whine to me about cheating, yeah? Well, why the hell don’t you ask that whore who she’s been seeing, huh?” Criston’s voice, the same loud song of a hypocrite. “Why don’t you ask that whore who she was on the damn phone with now, huh son?!”
Rhaenyra’s eyes adjusted to find Alicent, her breath catching in her chest. To find Alicent stood off to the side of the room, her face pale and her eyes wide, as if she couldn’t believe the sight before her. Fragile in a way Rhaenyra hadn’t ever actually seen her before.
(And what do you think I was, in another life?)
(A queen. The Queen, actually.)
Rhaenyra pushed forward to grab Criston’s arm, pulling with all her strength to pry him off of Aemond.
“Hey, that’s your damn son, mate!” Rhaenyra’s voice shouted in her own ears, her hands pressing against Criston’s arm. “Lay off him, that’s your son!”
Criston turned his eyes on Rhaenyra then, as if somehow knowing she was the object of his ire. As if somehow knowing it was her. Rhaenyra tensed, her hands balling tight into fists, but Aemond acted before Criston could even open his mouth.
The son shoved the father, tackling him to the floor with a heavy thud. Rhaenyra stumbled back a few steps, watching as Aemond held Criston down, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his hands pinning his father’s shoulders to the ground.
“Don’t you ever call my mother a whore again,” Aemond spat, his voice hoarse. “Don’t you ever—”
Rhaenyra’s eyes flickered back to Alicent. To Alicent, still standing there, unmoving. Just watching, just almost waiting. And Rhaenyra’s legs carried her towards the woman in a moment, as if they couldn’t possibly stay away if she even cared to try.
“Alicent—”
Alicent shook her head. The silent plea in her eyes hit Rhaenyra harder than any words probably could. She stepped back slightly, her hand coming up as if to keep Rhaenyra at a distance.
“Go,” Alicent said.
Rhaenyra froze. Her stomach dropped, and her chest tightened painfully. She stared at Alicent, trying to make sense of what she was seeing, all she was hearing. “What?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I—”
“I can’t—” Alicent’s voice broke, but she shook her head again on something Rhaenyra couldn’t understand. “Go, Rhaenyra. Please.”
Rhaenyra stumbled back almost involuntarily, her feet faltering as her eyes stayed glued to Alicent. She couldn’t tear them away, not from Alicent, not when she looked so pitiful, not when her eyes looked like that.
Rhaenyra saw Criston move in her peripheral as she walked backwards towards the door. She braced herself, expecting him to come at her, fists raised—because how could he not, after what he most probably was thinking.
She watched as instead, Criston reached down and grabbed Alicent’s phone from the floor, lifting it with a possessiveness that sent a chill crawling up Rhaenyra’s spine. Criston shoved the phone into Aemond’s hands.
“Tell your mother to unlock her phone then, Aemond. If there’s nothing to worry about, tell her to call that number again. Hmm, tell her.” Criston’s voice was gruff from the commotion, his hands wiping at the sweat under his nose.
Aemond took the phone without hesitation, as if there wasn’t a thing at all to question. Not of his mother, no.
“Just go ahead and unlock it, mom.” Aemond held the phone out towards Alicent. “Just prove this asshole wrong, and we can all just calm down.”
Rhaenyra’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched Alicent falter. Watched as Alicent’s lips opened and closed, but no sound left them. Her fingers just picked at her nails, her eyes just shifted from Aemond to the phone in his hands.
Aemond’s brow furrowed. His mouth twitched as he laughed nervously, but Rhaenyra knew that sound. “Just unlock it, mother. Hmm? Just show him, we’ll show him. He’s a fool, that’s all—.”
But Alicent finally just shook her head weakly. “Stop, Aemond. Just— just stop, please.”
Aemond’s eyes darted between his mother and father. Rhaenyra saw hurt and something else in them, even from where she stood by the door.
Aemond’s voice was confused, agitated. “What? I mean, what, were you actually on the phone with someone tonight or something? Come on mother, why can’t you just prove to him that—.”
“Probably because perhaps, you gave your little gag gift to the wrong parent,” Criston chuckled darkly from where he stood. “Probably because she’s a damn cheater, Aemond, that’s why.”
Aemond’s gaze remained on the locked phone in his hand, like he was looking for something. Like he was willing some memory, some answer, some piece. He just stared at it.
Aemond didn’t turn fully to Rhaenyra when he spoke next, but the words were directed at her.
“Rhaenyra, I think you should leave us for the night.” Aemond’s voice was choked on something. “I’ll… I’ll come and check on you later.”
Rhaenyra wasn’t sure what the meaning was between his words, but she knew there was one there. She figured there was one there, a meaning, and the small chance of it stole the breath from Rhaenyra’s lungs. Her gaze snapping back to Alicent— the other woman’s eyes all glassy and wide, raw in a way that made her heart ache. Rhaenyra didn’t know how she could possibly leave her.
But Rhaenyra Targaryen could not, would not, would never remain where she wasn’t wanted.
And so, she left stumbling.
***
Rhaenyra nearly fell into the guest house, her legs unsteady beneath her, as if they no longer recognized the weight of her own body. The cold air outside still clung to her, seeping into her skin despite the warmth of the living space. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog in her head, but it wouldn't lift.
(Go, Rhaenyra. Please.)
She hadn’t even noticed Margaery sitting on the small couch by the window, hadn’t noticed her friend watching her with those same knowing eyes, now laced with something sharp, something like compassion.
“Rhaenyra,” Margaery said simply, standing as Rhaenyra made her way further into the room. She didn’t reach out when she reached her. “Harwin told me you and Aemond left the party in a hurry. I thought I’d come by and check on you. I didn’t know…”
Rhaenyra didn’t answer right away. She just nodded quietly, her feet already moving to the closet, to pack her things. Her ears were still ringing with the harshness of Criston’s yelling, eyes still burning with the look on Alicent’s face, on Aemond’s. She could still see them, hear them.
Margaery’s voice came from behind her. “I heard what happened. The yelling, I… Shit, Rhaenyra.”
Rhaenyra’s body tensed, her hands stopping as they hovered over a pile of clothes she hadn’t been able to move.
Margaery stepped closer then, her arms coming around Rhaenyra. Turning her around and wiping the hot tears from her face. Rhaenyra couldn’t even feel herself crying. “Come here, Rhaenyra. Come, just… Gods, Rhaenyra.”
Rhaenyra’s chest hitched as she felt the first sobs breaking through, sharp and frantic, as if she had been holding them in for longer than she probably even knew. Margaery’s arms guided Rhaenyra to the floor, just held her there, against the door of the closet.
“Y-you were fucking right, Marge.” Rhaenyra’s voice was rough, tight. “I’m-I’m such an idiot. I always do this, I always—.”
“This isn’t that, Rhaenyra. This isn’t him.” Margaery whispered, pressed tight into Rhaenyra’s side. “And you’re not an idiot, sweetheart. You’re not, and neither is she. It’s just… it’s a mess of a love story, that’s all.”
Rhaenyra scoffed. A hiccup on her chest. “Love story? Margaery, I tore that family apart. I just fucking—I fucking wrecked it. And Aemond, he’s going to hate me. He hates me already, I know it.”
“Does he know it’s you?”
Rhaenyra stilled against Margaery, letting Margaery wipe at her face. “No. No, I don’t think he does. I don’t think so, not really.”
Margaery hummed. “So, he can’t hate you.”
“She does, though. Alicent, she hates me, she just—.” Rhaenyra’s voice broke off in a cry. “I’m so dumb, I swear I’m an idiot.”
“She does not hate you,” Margaery whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Rhaenyra’s head. “And stop that. You’re allowed to cry, but you’re not allowed to beat yourself up. Not for something you couldn’t even help.”
Rhaenyra didn’t know how long they sat there on the floor, backs against the closet, but eventually her sobs began to slow, and her body no longer shook. She was still numb, still disconnected, but at least she was no longer shaking.
Margaery pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes soft and hesitant, like approaching a wild animal. “You don’t have to tell me everything right now. Or even ever, if you don’t want to. But I want you to know you can, alright?”
Rhaenyra nodded as she wiped at her eyes, trying to clear the tears that had blurred her vision.
“And… Rhaenyra, I really think you should come and stay with me.” Margaery’s words were hesitant, her arms holding Rhaenyra’s as if she feared she might take flight. “Just- just until you can make it to Dragonstone.”
Rhaenyra’s head snapped up, her mouth in a firm, set line. “Margaery, I can’t just… no, I can’t just do that. I won’t do that. I won’t just leave her, not after everything. No.”
Margaery squeezed Rhaenyra’s arm gently. “Hey, I’m not saying you just throw everything away, Rhaenyra. I’m saying you both need space. You both need some air from this, dammit. And quite frankly, I don’t feel it’s safe for you to be here with that man.”
Margaery glanced towards the closet, where Rhaenyra had started pulling down her clothes.
“Just think about it, alright? We both know you already are.”
***
Rhaenyra’s fingers shook again as she packed, folding her clothes in an almost mechanical way. The guest house felt too quiet, too empty, too foreign in a way it never felt. Margaery had left some time ago, leaving her with some time alone and some space to think. Rhaenyra hadn’t done much thinking, not really.
She couldn’t think, not when her mind kept circling back to the night.
Why don’t you ask that whore who she was on the phone with, huh?
Don’t you ever—
(Go, Rhaenyra. Please.)
As Rhaenyra folded the last of her clothes, packed them haphazardly in her luggage, the sound of the door opening clicked in her ears. She spun around with a t-shirt in her hands, eyes focusing on the sight of Alicent standing by the doorway, hesitant, her eyes wide, but filled with something something something. Eyes wide on Rhaenyra, like she loved her, even still.
(Do you still need me like that?)
Rhaenyra didn’t move towards her, not like Rhaenyra always did, and Alicent didn’t take a step closer either.
Alicent’s gaze just fell to the luggage, the same bag Rhaenyra had arrived in nearly packed and ready to leave now. Rhaenyra had to look away from her then, look away from the way Alicent’s face just went sad. Sadder.
“Are you leaving, then?”
Rhaenyra hesitated, her hand suspended over the luggage, knees pressed against the bed. How did one tell the person that they loved that they were leaving them?
Alicent took a step inside, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, fingers fiddling and picking. Rhaenyra could hear her swallow, could hear the way her voice trembled. “Where are you going?”
Finally, “I’m, um, I’m going to stay with Margaery.”
The words felt heavy on her tongue.
Alicent didn’t respond immediately. Her face twisted, just like it had before, and Rhaenyra hoped she wouldn’t start to cry. Because then she wouldn’t be able to leave. Not ever, not like that.
“You don’t have to go. I didn’t—I didn’t mean for you to go.”
Rhaenyra looked away, fighting the burning urge behind her eyes to cry. Fighting the words on her tongue, the words like I love you, I’ll never leave, not ever.
“I told Criston and Aemond that I’ve been speaking with someone else.” Alicent said, her voice closer now. She’d closed the gap between them, moved across the room to Rhaenyra so that her front was nearly pressed against Rhaenyra’s side. “I just told them that part, so they wouldn’t keep trying to get into my phone. I didn’t— they don’t know who. And-and they’ve gone now. Aemond went to my father, and Criston’s stormed out.”
“Alicent…”
“So, they won’t find out. Not until you and I are ready to tell Aemond. And Criston, he doesn’t even have to know. It’s not his business, not since I’m leaving.”
Rhaenyra still didn’t move. Her gaze fell to the floor, her hands still clutching the clothes in front of her.
Alicent’s face crumbled for a second at the silence. She took a step closer and reached out for Rhaenyra’s hand, stilling her from packing. Pulling Rhaenyra into her, desperately in the way Rhaenyra craved. “Rhaenyra, just… say something,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “You have to say something, please.”
Rhaenyra’s forehead moved to the top of Alicent’s head, drawn closer as she always was. She could feel Alicent’s breath on her cheek, could hear how she breathed.
“Alicent, you know I can’t stay.”
Alicent’s face dropped into the crook of Rhaenyra’s neck, and Rhaenyra cursed herself when she felt the wetness of her cheeks. “A-are you just going to stay somewhere else, or are you… are you leaving this?”
Are you leaving me?
Rhaenyra swallowed hard. “I’m not… I’m not sure. I think I’m just going to stay somewhere else. I’m not leaving you. I don’t think I am. I-I think we just need air.”
“But you’re not sure.” Alicent looked ill, as if she’d been struck. She reached out, her hand trembling as she drew Rhaenyra in. As Rhaenyra pushed herself in, her body turning like a magnet so that her front was now against Alicent’s. “Can I convince you to stay?”
“I’m begging you not to try. Alicent, I’m- I’m so in love with you, it’s wrecking me.” Rhaenyra’s voice was pleading, her mouth even now hovering over Alicent’s. “So, I’m begging you not to try.”
Rhaenyra pulled away, forced herself to. She moved to throw the last few clothing items into her bag, and her fingers brushed against something in the pocket of the slacks she’d been wearing, something hard. Her stomach twisted when she pulled it out, when she looked down at the small, neatly wrapped box she had almost forgotten about.
Oh, yes. She’d almost forgotten it was even Christmas, still.
Alicent’s eyes followed her hands. “What’s that?”
Rhaenyra’s throat was dry as she swallowed. She hadn’t meant for it to feel like this, when she’d give this to Alicent. She took the box in her hands and held it out, her hands somehow steady now.
“It’s for you. Merry Christmas.” Her words felt hollow as soon as they left her lips, but she forced herself to speak them anyway.
Alicent’s eyes widened as she took the box from Rhaenyra’s hands, her face softening in a way Rhaenyra couldn’t quite bear to look at. Not now. Rhaenyra watched as she began unwrapping it carefully, as though afraid to break something already so fragile. When Alicent opened the box, she inhaled sharply.
“It’s a… well, it’s sort of a cliché gift and very elementary of me. It’s a promise ring.” Rhaenyra explained, the smallest of smiles finally finding its way to her, for the first time since that call. “The red jewel is, obviously, for me. The green one is for you. And I chose the signet ring so I could fit a key signature on the surface, you know, for our piano lessons. It’s a cliché gift, I know, but I didn’t know if you’d ever been given a promise ring before, and so—.”
Alicent didn’t speak right away. She simply held the ring in her hand, her thumb brushing over the surface as her eyes welled. When she looked up at Rhaenyra, her mouth was trembling.
“You still want me to have this, even now?”
Rhaenyra took the ring from Alicent’s hands. She held it in her hands only long enough to slide it onto Alicent’s thumb, a small triumph when it fit.
“Look, I don’t know what’ll happen after this, or how we might figure this out.” Rhaenyra twisted the ring on Alicent’s finger. “But I do promise to love you regardless, and so yes I still want you to wear it. Even after I leave tonight, and even if we don’t—.”
Alicent’s lips were on hers then, before Rhaenyra could even say another word, before she could say another utterance about how it all might not work out. Alicent’s lips were on hers, hungry and certain in a way they hadn’t yet been.
(Do you still need me like—.)
Rhaenyra felt the frantic press of Alicent’s hands, her fingers tugging at Rhaenyra’s shirt, pulling her closer, closer, closer, now. Rhaenyra moved unconsciously, like it was her only choice, her only option. Her hands cradled the back of Alicent’s neck, pulling her in, drawing her lips in.
It wasn’t enough. It was never enough and they never had time. How much time did they have left?
Rhaenyra’s tongue traced Alicent’s lips, tracing and sucking at the bottom. She could feel the way Alicent’s breath hitched in her mouth, the softest of gasps, the quietest of gasps sweet against her lips. Alicent’s lips parted open, and Rhaenyra’s tongue was inside, hot against hers, wet against hers, tasting the taste she so deeply craved.
She could not be patient. They could not be patient.
Rhaenyra groaned at the sweetness of Alicent’s mouth, at the feel of her tongue, at the feel of the hot heat between them. She broke away only to kiss down Alicent’s jaw, to taste the skin there, hot open mouth kisses wetting the skin there.
She wanted to be consumed by Alicent, to consume Alicent, before nothing was left.
Rhaenyra’s tongue darted out before she could even stop it, like a damn addict. Her tongue licked the side of Alicent’s neck, tasted the skin there with the wetness of her tongue.
A choppy, quiet moan was in Rhaenyra’s ears, breath hot against her ears. “Rhaenyra…”
They shouldn’t be doing this right now, not after the day they’d had, not with the people who were hurt. But fuck if Rhaenyra could care about anything but the sound of Alicent, needy in her ears. Rhaenyra sucked on the skin, nibbled on it, licked it better. She wanted to be inside of her, in every way she could.
Rhaenyra only pulled away for a moment, just to look at Alicent. Just to be certain.
(Look at you. God, look at you.)
Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, wet with Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra was weak at the sound of Alicent’s breath still coming out in those soft, quiet gasps. Her hand played at the back of Alicent’s neck, thumbing at the soft hairs there at the base of it.
“Do you… do you want to stop?”
Alicent’s hand was on Rhaenyra’s cheek, and Rhaenyra could feel the nervous vibrations on her fingertips. “I-I want to feel you, like that.”
Rhaenyra felt her body thrum with the sweetest electricity, heat rising her most sensitive of places. At Alicent, at her words, at the thought of feeling her like that.
But Rhaenyra shook her head, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to Alicent’s lips. She bit her own lip when Alicent followed her mouth. Her voice was raw, husky when she asked again. “I need more than that. I need to know if you want to stop.”
Alicent shook her head, hands timidly finding Rhaenyra’s sides. Exploring the way she felt, tracing the curves of her like the spines of a book. And then she was looking at Rhaenyra, eyes burning into Rhaenyra’s, needy in a way she’d never seen.
“No, I… I don’t want to stop.”
And so Rhaenyra wouldn’t. Not now, not ever. Not if she even cared to try.