Chapter Text
One Year Later
The autumn leaves rustled overhead, whispering and crackling each time the wind caught them in its cool embrace. The sun was bright and shining, providing just enough warmth that the day was not chilled. Fat white clouds decorated the blue sky, and birds were singing merrily.
It was a lovely day.
An excellent day.
Rhaenyra’s day.
A small smile curled her lips as she watched the puffed-up lordling stalk through the trees. In his hands was a finely carved bow of dark maple wood and an equally well-crafted arrow. Even from her place high in the branches overhead, she could see the gleam of the polished steel.
Alicent will like having new arrows.
It was almost a pity that she wasn’t robbing this man on her own. Those arrows would have made a nice nameday gift for her beloved. Although, if all went according to her—admittedly somewhat insane—plan, she would soon have an even better nameday gift for her darling Alicent.
A thrill of excitement traveled through her body at the mere thought of how delighted her Alicent would be.
Shaking her head to clear it, she refocused her attention on the lordling. He was probably around her and Alicent’s age, and embroidered onto his surcoat were the red chevrons of House Rosby. It’s been a while since we’ve robbed a Rosby.
She watched as the lordling suddenly spun around and nocked an arrow, aiming it towards some rustling underbrush.
“Please don’t hurt me,” a high, trembling voice cried out.
The lordling immediately lowered his bow.
Rhaenyra began to carefully descend from her tree.
“Oh please, Good Ser, will you help me? I, I seem to be quite lost.”
Alicent’s voice was so soft and simpering that Rhaenyra could hardly even recognize it as the same voice belonging to the woman that she loved. It still astounded her that anyone could hear it and not immediately realize that they were somehow being tricked.
“Men are fools. They see what they wish to see. And what they wish to see is a pretty maiden in need of their protection.”
Her Alicent had proven the truth of those words more times than Rhaenyra could count.
“Worry not, My Lady,” the lordling blustered. “I’ll be most pleased to guide you to safety.”
As she slid down the tree trunk, Rhaenyra could easily imagine the lordling’s chest puffing up with pride as he said those words.
“Oh. You are too kind, Ser. How lucky I am to have found you.”
And Rhaenyra could just as easily imagine her Alicent’s eyes widening with feigned gratitude as she batted her lashes at him.
The thought almost made her snort aloud.
“I was separated from my lord father’s guardsmen,” Alicent was explaining, her voice just a little too loud, “and I was so afraid—”
Rhaenyra drew her dagger and pressed the tip against the back of the lordling’s neck.
The lordling stiffened, his grip tightening on his bow and his shoulders tensing as if he was about to swing it backwards at Rhaenyra.
“Drop the bow and arrow,” Alicent ordered.
“Seven Hells,” the lordling swore, but he did as instructed.
With a knife to his neck and an arrow aimed at his heart, he had little choice but to obey.
“What is this?” he demanded.
Rhaenyra exchanged a look with Alicent over the lordling’s shoulder. “Have these lords gotten stupider this past year?”
Alicent snorted. “Maybe only stupid lords wander into this part of the Kingswood.”
“Hmm. I guess that’s a possibility.” Rhaenyra pressed the edge of her blade harder against the lordling’s neck, though not hard enough to break skin. “Since you need to ask, ‘this’ is a robbery, Milord.”
The lordling sputtered as he stared at Alicent. “But you’re a girl.”
“Yes. I’m aware, thank you.” Alicent jerked her head slightly. “Hands out in front of you now. Quick like.”
When the lordling hesitated, Rhaenyra drew a thin line of blood along the back of his neck.
He swiftly thrust his arms out in front of himself.
“Don’t move,” Rhaenyra warned as she used her free hand to snatch the arrows from his quiver and fling them to the side where she and Alicent could collect them later. She then felt around his waist for a moment until she found his coin purse, which she ripped from his belt and then tucked safely into the pocket of her black cloak.
That should have been the end of things, she knew, and yet . . .
She swiftly unbuckled his belt and relieved him of his sword as well.
“Wait—”
Alicent loosed her arrow, grazing the side of his hand and splitting the skin open.
The lordling yelped in pain, clutching his bleeding hand to his chest.
“Hands out,” Alicent snapped, another arrow already aimed at the lordling’s heart. She was scowling, and the lordling no doubt thought that the dark expression was directed at him, but Rhaenyra knew better.
Worth it.
∞
“Honestly, Rhaenyra? You had to steal his sword as well?”
“What?” Rhaenyra widened her eyes as she looked at her beloved, the very image of innocence. “It was to ensure that he didn’t pursue us. You always say disarming the targets is a necessity.”
Which was true enough. Her Alicent had taught her a great many things about the art of banditry this past year.
Most of which Rhaenyra remembered.
Alicent rolled her eyes, the stern expression on her face not wavering even a little. “Yes, but we both know that I’ve also said that disarming is not the same as thieving their weapons.”
“You stole his arrows.” She pointed to the second quiver now strapped to her beloved’s back, which somehow accentuated the set of her perfect shoulders.
“That’s different, and you know it.” Alicent tsked as she looked down at the sword hanging at Rhaenyra’s hip. “We can always use more arrows for hunting and thieving. But Margaery and Sansa are going to have a much harder time finding someone to purchase that sword,” she jabbed her finger at the pommel, “especially considering the House Rosby sigil on it.”
“Oh dear.” Rhaenyra’s eyes widened once more, this time with feigned contrition. “I didn’t even think of that.” She paused, tapping her chin. “Well, we wouldn’t want to put Margaery and Sansa in a bind, so I suppose we have no choice but to keep it ourselves.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Gods damn it.”
Alicent rolled her eyes again, but the sternness of her expression had faded, and when she spoke, her voice was warm with affection once more. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly lovely? Yes. I agree.” She laughed when Alicent smacked her arm in response.
∞
Alicent sighed as she lay down beside Rhaenyra that night, marveling, as she so oft did, at all of the strange turns her life had taken that had somehow led her here. To the Kingswood. Living as a bandit. With the woman that she loved more than anything by her side.
Gods be good.
If her father could see her now . . .
Well, if she were to ever see him again, she was fairly certain that Rhaenyra would stab him, but in the brief moments before he died . . .
The sight of her, the realization of what she had become, it might well kill him before her beloved had the chance.
She smiled slightly at the thought.
This past year with Rhaenyra—discounting one incident when her beloved’s rash gallantry almost got them arrested—had been nothing so much as a lovely dream. The sort that she could never have imagined as a child, not even during their summer together. Every moment with Rhaenyra—even the ones where she was tempted to strangle her—was a gift, and she savored them all as such.
A cold wind whistled through the trees, making her shiver.
Winter would be upon them soon. They would need to begin making their way back to Margaery and Sansa’s inn in the next day or two.
Another brisk gust rattled the branches overhead.
Alicent shifted closer to Rhaenyra, seeking her warmth. Her beloved had always been unfairly warm.
“Cold, My Love?” Rhaenyra’s arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her close, pressing Alicent’s back to her front. “Better?”
Alicent hummed softly. “A little.” She rolled over in Rhaenyra’s arms so that she could kiss her soft lips. “I know of a better way that you can warm me, My Nyra,” she whispered.
The meager light provided by the embers of their campfire was just enough that Alicent could see the way Rhaenyra’s eyes darkened in response to her words.
“Oh?” One of Rhaenyra’s hands slid lower to stroke over Alicent’s hip. “And what might that be, Ali?”
“Mm.” Alicent captured Rhaenyra’s lips in another kiss, savoring the taste of her as her tongue plundered her princess’ mouth. Despite the slightly awkward angle, her hands rose to caress Rhaenyra’s breasts, earning a low moan.
“I love you,” Rhaenyra gasped as she broke the kiss, panting to catch her breath.
Alicent grinned, rolling onto her back and tugging Rhaenyra down on top of her so that she was properly blanketed in her beloved’s warmth. “Then show me, Nyra.”
Rhaenyra grinned as she leaned down to brush the tip of her nose against Alicent’s. “With pleasure, My Alicent.”
∞
“She’s very silly, I agree. I haven’t any idea how you put up with her all these years,” Alicent sighed.
Syrax—the traitor—nickered in response.
Alicent chuckled, patting her neck as she fed her another apple.
Rhaenyra harrumphed. “You’re spoiling her.”
“As if you didn’t sneak her extra oats this morning,” Alicent scoffed, not even bothering to turn around and face her properly.
Flopping back onto the meadow grass, Rhaenyra closed her eyes and sighed loudly. How was it that a girl who’d been frightened stiff of horses barely more than a year ago was somehow the best of friends with one now?
It was baffling!
She hadn’t minded at first—the growing closeness between Syrax and her beloved Alicent. In fact, she’d been delighted when she’d first started noticing that Alicent was growing more and more comfortable around Syrax, who of course adored Alicent—who wouldn’t, after all?
But then the two of them had begun to ally against her, and that truly was not fair.
Syrax was her horse, gods damn it!
Yet she could never remain discontent for too long over the matter, not when Alicent laughed at something Syrax did or when Syrax gently butted her muzzle against Alicent’s shoulder. The two of them were sweet together—even if that did oft mean teasing her about anything and everything.
They were lucky that she loved them so.
Rhaenyra yelped when a weight suddenly settled atop her. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see Alicent was straddling her hips. Her hands instinctively went to Alicent’s waist, which she gave a gentle squeeze as a wide grin split her face. “Hello, My Love.”
Alicent leaned down and pecked her lips. “Hello, My Love.”
“Is there a particular reason you’re atop me, Ali?”
“Hmm. Do I need one?” Alicent smiled playfully, sliding a hand up and down Rhaenyra’s arm.
“Well, considering it’s you, I suppose not.” Rhaenyra gave her waist another squeeze, heat gathering low in her belly when Alicent’s hips rolled against her in response. “Do you still plan to reach the split tree by nightfall, My Darling, or do you wish to ravish me instead?” Her words sounded breathy and needy even to her own ears, but she didn’t care. And by the way Alicent’s eyes darkened, it was plain that her desire pleased her beloved.
“I don’t see why we can’t accomplish both,” Alicent drawled, her fingers dancing over Rhaenyra’s shoulder before settling on the side of her neck. “You, My Love, tend to find your pleasure rather swiftly with me.”
Rhaenyra’s cheeks flushed. That was hardly her fault. Alicent’s hands and her tongue were very talented.
“Oh, My Nyra. There’s no need to blush, though I do love how pretty and pink your cheeks get for me.” Alicent pecked her lips. “I find it quite flattering how easily you come undone for me.” She smirked, her hand trailing lower. “Will you do so for me now, My Love?”
A low groan spilled from Rhaenyra’s mouth as she nodded eagerly. “Anything for you, Ali.”
Alicent captured her lips in a searing kiss.
∞
When she and Alicent arrived at the inn several days later, Rhaenyra immediately abandoned her beloved and Syrax to rush inside and find Margaery. She knew that Alicent could handle getting Syrax settled in the stables on her own by now, and while she expected to receive an exasperated look and a chiding huff later, both would be more than worth it.
Margaery grinned when she saw her. “Rayla. Sansa and I were just beginning to wonder if you and Alyse wouldn’t be joining us this winter.” Her eyes twinkled gleefully as she gave Rhaenyra’s arms a friendly squeeze. “And you arrived just in time as well. A day later, and I would have owed Sansa half a stag.”
Rhaenyra snorted. “I see you’re still placing wagers on us then.”
“It’s been great fun this past year, yes.” Margaery grabbed her hand and led her into the backroom. “Did you abandon Alyse with Syrax?”
“I did, and I’m hoping that I haven’t upset her for nothing.” Rhaenyra’s heart was beginning to race. Surely Margaery wouldn’t be leading her somewhere private without good reason.
“Is that doubt I hear in your voice, Rhaenyra? You’re lucky I’m not easily offended.” Margaery closed the door behind them, her grin as bright as ever. “I’ll admit, your request wasn’t easily met, but Sansa and I are very good at what we do.”
With a flourish, Margaery withdrew a small pouch from the pocket of her dress. “I do believe this is what you wanted.”
Rhaenyra’s hands trembled as she accepted and then swiftly opened the little pouch. Her breath hitched when she poured the contents into her hand. “Yes,” she breathed, heart now thundering in her chest, “this is exactly what I wanted.”
Margaery preened, radiating smug satisfaction. “Well, Sansa and I ask only that you try not to moan too loudly when Alicent is thanking you later.”
A flush crept into Rhaenyra’s cheeks, though she really ought to be used to Margaery’s teasing by now. Both she and Alicent had been subjected to it all last winter—Margaery having taken especial delight in commenting on their inability to bed each other quietly.
All the same, she wrapped her arms around Margaery in a fierce hug. “Thank you, Margaery. For finding this.”
Margaery returned the hug, rubbing her back. “Sansa and I still owe Alicent for everything she’s done for us, and even if we didn’t, she’s our friend.”
Rhaenyra drew back, Alicent’s gift clutched tightly in her hand. “She—we—are very lucky to have friends like you.”
A playful smirk curled Margaery’s lips. “Yes. You most certainly are.”
∞
Alicent turned at the sound of the door to her and Rhaenyra’s room opening, frowning when her beloved slipped inside. “Do you intend to explain why I was so rudely aban—?”
Rhaenyra’s lips crashed into hers, hot and claiming, and Alicent didn’t hesitate to kiss back.
Her arms came up to loop around Rhaenyra’s neck, pulling her closer and unbalancing the other girl enough that they both went tumbling backwards onto the bed. She sighed happily when warm hands cradled her cheeks. Gods be good, she would never tire of the feeling of Rhaenyra’s lips on her own. They were always so impossibly soft and tender yet demanding and hungry all at once.
When they finally broke apart to catch their breath, Rhaenyra’s eyes were nearly black with desire, her cheeks flushed a delicious shade of red.
Alicent grinned up at her. “If that was your apology, My Love, I accept.”
Rhaenyra laughed breathlessly, shaking her head. “That wasn’t an apology.” She pressed a swift kiss to Alicent’s forehead. “That was simply because you’re beautiful and I love you.”
Alicent’s heart fluttered in response. “Care to explain why you abandoned me then?”
Nodding quickly, Rhaenyra crawled off of her and helped her sit up. “I know your nameday isn’t for another moon, but I can’t wait.”
Alicent laughed, shaking her head. She’d told Rhaenyra last year that there was no need for nameday gifts, but she’d been fairly certain that her words were falling on deaf ears. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to suffer for an entire moon, My Love.”
“And I love you for that.” Rhaenyra pecked her lips before reaching beneath her own cloak and withdrawing a small green pouch. She offered it to Alicent with a flourish and a bow. “Yours, I believe.”
Confused but curious, Alicent accepted the pouch, noting the weight of its contents. A ring perhaps? She couldn’t fathom why Rhaenyra would waste money on jewelry for her, but she knew that she would adore whatever it was because it was a gift from the woman she loved.
Upending the pouch, her heart stilled in her chest when a necklace fell into her waiting hand.
No.
It couldn’t be.
Gleaming gold in her palm—well-worn and loved—was an achingly familiar seven-pointed-star pendant.
“Nyra,” she rasped, fingers curling around the star as she cradled the necklace to her chest. The points were digging painfully into her flesh, she was clutching it so tight, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care one bit.
Gods be good.
“H-How?” The last time that she’d seen her mother’s pendant had been the day her father tore it from her neck. She’d never known what had happened to it, had assumed that her father simply kept it for himself. She could feel tears welling in her eyes, but she couldn’t be bothered to wipe them away.
Rhaenyra reached out to brush away one of the tears sliding down Alicent’s cheek. “Your father is dead.”
Alicent’s eyes widened. “What?” She’d been with Rhaenyra every day for the past year. It would be impossible—
“I didn’t kill him, Silly,” Rhaenyra giggled. “He died on his own. Choked on a chicken bone or something.” A cold smile curled her lips. “According to rumor, his head fell into his soup afterwards.”
Alicent couldn’t help but snort at the thought of her dignified father sitting dead at the dinner table and face-down in his own soup bowl.
Rhaenyra’s cold smile melted away as she reached out to cup Alicent’s cheek. “I asked Margaery and Sansa to find your mother’s necklace for you.” Her lips pursed. “I had no interest in allowing that bastard to keep a reminder of your mother from you.”
A watery laugh escaped Alicent’s lips upon hearing a somewhat mangled version of what she’d said to Rhaenyra the day that she’d returned her mother’s ring to her.
“Gwayne sends his regards.”
Alicent nearly dropped her mother’s necklace in shock. “They—someone spoke to Gwayne?” She would have to ask Margaery and Sansa how exactly they’d gone about retrieving her mother’s pendant one day, but for now, she was more than content simply to have it back.
Rhaenyra nodded. “I’m not certain exactly who, but apparently your mother’s necklace wasn’t stolen back so much as given back by your brother.”
Fresh tears welled in Alicent’s eyes at the thought of her gentle brother returning their mother’s necklace to her. She remembered that he’d been incensed by their father taking it from her all those years ago, remembered him offering to intercede on her behalf. She’d said “no” at the time, but it seemed that he had never forgotten.
Perhaps, one day, Rhaenyra and I might travel to Oldtown.
She’d never had the desire before, not with her father’s looming shadow. But he was dead now. All that remained were her brother and memories of her mother.
Sniffling a little, she handed her mother’s necklace to Rhaenyra. “Help me?”
Rhaenyra beamed, motioning to Alicent to turn around. Her fingers were light and nimble as she carefully looped the chain around Alicent’s neck and fastened the clasp.
Alicent sighed happily as the still-familiar weight of the seven-pointed-star settled against her chest. Gods, it had been so long.
Turning back around, she captured Rhaenyra’s lips in a warm kiss, attempting to pour into it all of the love and gratitude that mere words could never convey.
Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around Alicent’s waist, pulling her impossibly close.
When they were forced to part for breath, Alicent pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, Nyra. Until the day I die and beyond, I will always love you.”
Rhaenyra smiled softly, finding Alicent’s hand and tangling their fingers together. “I’m yours, Ali. Always.”