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“I intend to marry… the Lady Laena of House Velaryon,” King Viserys announced to the Small Council. The Princess of Dragonstone found herself breathing a sigh of relief, knowing that Laena was far too young for her father to bed yet, and so was far too young to bear an heir that may overtake the princess’s claim. She looked to Alicent, but became alarmed at the terrified expression on the girl’s face. Rhaenyra only had to look to Alicent’s father to understand.
“What?!” Ser Otto Hightower stood up abruptly, seething, “Your- Your Grace, she is far too young; my daughter-!”
Viserys held up a hand to silence him, “Your daughter is a fine young woman. But she would make a better companion to Princess Rhaenyra than she ever would to me.”
“Alicent!” Otto glared at his daughter, unable to withhold his anger. Alicent looked positively ghostly, the poor girl. Rhaenyra’s heart beat faster. “What have you done?!”
Alicent looked anxiously from her father, to the King, to Rhaenyra, then back to the King and let out a small, “Please excuse me, Your Grace,” before she fled the room, slamming the door behind her.
Otto began to follow after her, stalking towards the door, “Excuse me, Your Grace, I must chastise my daughter-”
“You will do no such thing,” Viserys said coldly, and the guards barred the door from the Hand, “Lady Alicent informed me of your plan to force her on me in marriage, and that it was against her wishes. You have failed as my advisor, working behind my back to secure your own power in places it does not belong. Your time as Hand of the King has come to an end-”
“-Your Grace-!”
“-and you will return to Oldtown on the morrow. I will not hear any disagreement.”
Ser Otto bristled, “And what of my daughter? She cannot possibly-”
“She will remain here, in the service of the Princess. She has proved herself loyal to myself and to my daughter,” Viserys nodded towards his daughter, who nodded in return. Rhaenyra almost smiled at the thought of her and Alicent being able to do almost whatever they wished. Mayhaps one day, Alicent would take to the skies with her on Syrax. What a day that would be, if it ever came.
“I will- I will not,” Otto slammed his fist down on the table, “I am Hand of the King, I have given you loyal service for years, Your Grace!”
“And I thank you for that. But I will not have plotters or power-hungry men as my second-in-command.”
Rhaenyra cut in before the ex-Hand could buffer back, “Might I ask for your leave, Father? I wish to… tell Lady Alicent my wishes of her service towards me.” She did not quite meet his eye. She hoped that it told him it was a softer matter. One of the heart, that she knew he would understand. He was a kinder King than some who had ruled before him.
“You may go,” Viserys simply said, nodding curtly. The princess ran out of the room, desperate to see her friend.
***
Rhaenyra found Alicent in her chambers. She was sitting on her bed, feverishly picking at her cuticles until they bled, eyes wide and staring at the floor. Her breathing was ragged and shallow, and she shook slightly.
“Alicent!'' She ran to her and took the girl’s hands in her own. She gazed down at her in concern, biting the inside of her cheek.
Alicent looked up at her, brown eyes wide and full of fear. She stuttered, “I’m sorry, Rhaenyra, I had to do it; he made me, I didn’t want to! I don’t want to marry your father! My father’s going to punish me, I saw him, he was so angry -”
Rhaenyra’s hands flew to the sides of Alicent’s face as she bent down on her knees in front of the girl, looking up at her from where she knelt, “You don’t have to worry anymore, Ali. Ser Otto’s being sent to Oldtown tomorrow. My father has removed him as Hand.”
“But what of me? He- he’s my father, I’ll be alone,” Alicent felt Rhaenyra’s soft gaze on her, lilac eyes darting from each feature to take it in. Alicent knew that she wouldn’t be alone if her father left, not at all. She’d have Rhaenyra. She’d always have Rhaenyra, she hoped.
“You’re going to be… my lady. In my service, in some way. I mean, you already are, sort of, but officially you’ll be… mine,” the princess’s thumb brushed Alicent’s cheek, “Father says I should make you my ward, but… you’re much more than just a lady of the court to me.”
Alicent flushed, and prayed to all the Seven that Rhaenyra did not feel the heat of it through her soft hands, the ones that still gently held her face, like someone holds a particularly fragile piece of pottery. “I’m glad of that,” she whispered.
“Would you oppose comfort from me?” Rhaenyra asked tentatively as she took her hands away from Alicent’s face, and she almost wondered if it was even… awkward. An odd sight from the dragon-rider, usually so bold and charming. The loss of contact left something of a hole in Alicent’s heart. She realised she missed the princess’s delicate, warm touch.
“Whatever my princess wishes,” Alicent offered a half-smile. It was all she could muster, still so fearful after the events at the Small Council meeting, “You do not have to ask, you know.”
“I ask because I care about you,” Rhaenyra stood up, and offered her hand out, “Father says that all great partnerships must come from freely participating parties. That’s why forced marriages are so often failures in the matter of loving; they cannot connect by will of their minds, even if they wish it so. But I did not force myself to care about you, it just… happened.”
“Mm,” Alicent hummed. She did not think about the implications of Rhaenyra’s words, and instead took Rhaenyra’s hand to pull herself up. The two stood before each other, unsure of who would prompt the embrace. Lilac eyes gazed into brown for a moment, then Rhaenyra’s arms threaded around Alicent’s waist, under her arms, pulling her closer. Alicent let out a tired sigh as she rested her head on the princess’s shoulder. The soft silver-gold of Rhaenyra’s hair tickled her chin a little.
“I’m glad you’re staying,” Rhaenyra’s murmur was only just audible, “I do not know what I would do if you ever left my side, to your father’s home where you’ve never even been.”
“Nor I,” Alicent buried her face further into her shoulder, holding her closer. “I don’t ever want to leave your side.” Rhaenyra did not respond, only held her tighter. She was warm, so warm. So soft and comfortable to be embraced by, like a heavy blanket. Alicent thought she may even fall asleep; such was the comfort.
“You’re tired?” Rhaenyra pulled back, gaining a grumble from the Hightower girl as some warmth left her.
“You make me tired,” Alicent yawned, “You’re warm. Princess of the hearth, they should call you.”
“It’s the blood of the dragon running through me, Ali.”
That name again. It made Alicent smile, a genuine one, as opposed to the placid smile she would often give in court when lords and Sers would ramble on about Gods know what wars and petty disputes were happening. Only Rhaenyra could bring this sort of smile to her face.
“The blood of Old Valyria, where dragons roamed the skies a hundred-fold more so than they do today.”
“You sound like your father when you say that,” Alicent brushed Rhaenyra’s hair off her shoulder, “Are all Targaryens so pompous?”
“You speak of Targaryen pomposity as if the Hightowers do not rival that,” Rhaenyra laughed. A warm, sweet laugh that Alicent loved to hear.
“You make me smile, Rhaenyra,” Alicent leant forward, placing her arms around the princess’s shoulders, “I enjoy your company.”
“And I you,” Rhaenyra’s hands found their places on the sides of Alicent’s torso. Alicent’s head fell into the crook of the princess’s neck, and both of them shivered a little. Rhaenyra could feel the girl’s lips against her bared skin, light and warm breaths skimming the surface of it, and it made her grow warm, her heart beating faster again. Alicent slumped against her and let out a long, slow breath, humming as she did so.
“You know, if you’re tired, you could lay down,” Rhaenyra’s hand ran along the girl’s spine, sending a tingle up her neck to her head. Alicent knew Rhaenyra could tell her fatigue, even if she herself denied it. The princess always seemed to know how she was feeling. Alicent did, however, think it borderline silly, but also endearing, that Rhaenyra wanted to take care of her.
“I’d much prefer to stay here,” Alicent mumbled, “It’s quite comfortable.”
Rhaenyra chuckled, “I’m sure the bed will be more comfortable than the floor when you fall asleep on me.”
“You could carry me, I know you could,” Rhaenyra felt Alicent’s smile against her neck.
Rhaenyra laughed again, “You want me to carry you to the bed, is that it?”
Alicent tensed, but Rhaenyra rubbed her back soothingly. Up and down, back and forth, with a gentle touch. Alicent reluctantly pulled back from Rhaenyra’s arms and grumbled, “I don’t need anyone to carry me. My legs are perfectly functional.”
“That may well be,” Rhaenyra shot her a smirk, stepping back as she held one hand to her chest and called out dramatically, “but I think that good little Lady Alicent wants her big, strong Princess Rhaenyra to carry her in her arms to the bed!”
Alicent rolled her eyes, “You’re egotistical, Rhaenyra. Your Targaryen arrogance is showing again. I merely stated I think you’d be able to carry me,” Despite how much she fought it though, a warm blush spread across her face.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bad liar, Lady Alicent?” Rhaenyra’s hands dropped down to fold in front of her chest as an amiable smile crept up on her lips.
Alicent shook her head, but kept her eyes on the princess, “No, actually. Many would say I’m quite a good liar.”
“Many people do not know you as well as I do,” the girl in front of her stepped forward again, close to Alicent. There was a silence as they looked at each other again, perhaps unsure of what was meant to happen next.
“You- you were right,” Alicent stumbled over her words in her attempt to break the tension, “I am tired. These last weeks have been stressful.”
“I can imagine. Your father’s a cunt,” Rhaenyra said bluntly.
“Rhaenyra!” Alicent laughed and gave a teasing push.
“Come,” Rhaenyra took Alicent’s hand and pulled her onto the bed, rolling to the middle. Alicent followed suit. The princess was more sat up than laid down, knees up, resting against the mountain of pillows propped against her bed’s headboard. Alicent closed her eyes and nestled her head once more on Rhaenyra’s shoulder, curled up beside her. A few minutes passed, then Rhaenyra shifted so that she faced Alicent more forwardly, easing down from her sitting position so that they lay next to each other. Alicent opened her eyes when a soft hand began tucking the auburn locks over her shoulder, baring her neck, then moving to her face, where Rhaenyra held her. Timid, the princess was. They both were, in truth. Was the risk of taking the step worth it?
“I’m glad you did not go through with your father’s plan. I do not think it would have boded well for us,” Rhaenyra pondered as her knuckles brushed along Alicent’s cheek, “I fear it might have torn us apart. I want to be close to you forever and if you became my father’s queen and bedded him, I do not think I could bear to lay eyes upon you. You’d be my step-mother . Gods, that’s a disgusting thought that I never wish to have again.”
Alicent smiled and shifted closer to her princess. Their knees touched.
“I would sooner be your Queen than his,” she murmured.
Rhaenyra’s mouth opened slightly, a faint pink blush dusting her pale skin. She immediately replaced her surprise with her signature cheeky grin. “Rather unorthodox, isn’t it? Traditions do not exactly allow women to have wives.”
“Oh, fuck the traditions,” Alicent whispered. Her heart rate rose as Rhaenyra’s thumb brushed over the corner of her lip, “You’re a Targaryen , above the laws of mortal men. Your family may wed brother to sister, uncle to niece, cousin to cousin. Why not a princess and her chosen lady?”
“You really think the High Septon would bless it?”
“Well, if the Seven would not bless it, then I would go to the Old Gods of the North, or the Lord of Light, or perhaps even the Many-Faced God that the Faceless Men in Braavos worship.”
Rhaenyra frowned, “There’s another one too, I don’t remember. I should, we went over it earlier this week.” The princess however, had found herself rather distracted these days, thinking about flying Syrax all over the world and beyond. And taking Alicent with her. To hold her as they flew over oceans and forests.
“The Mother of Mountains,” Alicent gazed over Rhaenyra’s face, along the soft curve of her jaw, the gentle bridge of her nose, the pink of her lips. She looked further up to the princess’s eyes, “The holy place for the Dothraki people in Essos. It isn’t a God, but you’re close enough.”
“Tch. Dornish wine, Arbor wine, it is all wine regardless of what it’s made of,” the princess smiled. Her face then soured, and she muttered bitterly, “Father’s going to make me look for a husband, sooner or later, now that he’s found a spouse for himself.”
“He can’t make you do anything, Rhaenyra,” Alicent said, “You’re too strong-willed for him to insist upon you.”
“He would put forward Lady Laena’s brother, Ser Laenor,” she scoffed, “Between you and me, Ali. I do not think he holds affection for our sex.”
Alicent giggled, “Well, you would not have to bed him then.”
Rhaenyra sighed, amused, “Marriages related to the crown only occur for one purpose, and that is heirs. And your father must be trying to find some other suitor for you now that the King has a bride.”
“He’ll try. But he’ll be on the road to Oldtown by noon tomorrow, won’t he?”
Rhaenyra sighed bitterly, “He still controls you. I despise men for that very reason, thinking they’re somehow superior to us just because they were born with a cock and we weren’t.”
“Rhaenyra!” Alicent exclaimed, her eyes wide.
The princess brushed the chastisement off with a wave of her hand and a smile, “You could marry me instead. I’d be a far better husband than any of the men your father would recommend. And you’d take my name, of course; Lady Alicent Targaryen has a ring to it,” Rhaenyra wanted to tell herself that she didn’t find the concept of having a wife of interest, but it would be a lie. And she knew she must never lie to herself if she was to remain sane.
“My father wanted me to become a Targaryen by seducing your father,” Alicent shivered.
“As I said, your father’s a sad, bitter old cunt,” Rhaenyra nodded.
Alicent stifled a laugh as she sat up and gazed down at Rhaenyra, “So, you would marry me?” She was curious. In the past, Alicent had wondered what it would be like to kiss Rhaenyra as a man might kiss his wife, to take her as a man would his mistress, to feel Rhaenyra’s skin and feel it all. She had always tried to shake those thoughts from her head, as if she was terrified someone would see through her, read her thoughts, and have her cursed out and punished for her sins in front of the court. She felt some sudden urge to be closer to Rhaenyra, to touch her. She had experienced it a little in the past, when she’d dressed Rhaenyra for her official crowning as Princess of Dragonstone, when Rhaenyra had lain in her lap in the Godswood, when they’d snuck into the kitchen together to eat lemoncakes. Rhaenyra had sat on the bench and Alicent had stood in front of her, leaning forward with her hips between Rhaenyra’s legs, passing her the treats a little too intimately.
She hadn’t withheld herself those times, allowing her hands to hold the princess’s shoulder with Rhaenyra’s hands on them, ran her fingers through Rhaenyra’s silver-gold hair as the girl defiantly didn’t listen to her, maintained eye contact for a little too long. But right now, with Rhaenyra so close to her, so intimately close, it felt like she would be breaking some invisible restraint, that if she let go now, she would not ever be able to hold back again. It scared her.
“Of course,” Rhaenyra’s words drifted lazily to her ears as the princess sat up beside her, “I couldn’t think of anyone else I would rather spend my life alongside. And yes, I am not immune to the whisperings of court, all the staring from little lordlings, highborn men and boys. But why do you think I keep insisting that you ride Syrax with me one day, to feel the wind through our hair and travel anywhere we wish?” Rhaenyra inched forward very slowly, so slowly it was almost agonising, “I would say it’s ridiculous how you make me feel about you.” Alicent could barely breathe as the princess’s own breath skimmed her lips.
Alicent’s mouth went dry and her heart beat faster. The princess was so very pretty, so very enchanting. When she was with Rhaenyra, she didn’t care about anything else. Only Rhaenyra’s words, Rhaenyra’s laughter, Rhaenyra’s touch. Their foreheads met now. Rhaenyra moved her hand that had rested on Alicent’s cheek to the angle of her jaw, and tilted it upwards. As their lips brushed, Alicent jerked back. She looked at the princess, “Are you sure this is what you want? It isn’t… it isn’t to jest?”
Rhaenyra’s expression held thinly veiled hurt, “I wouldn’t jest about you, Ali, not like this. Perhaps your fear of the unknown is clouding the things you already do know.”
Alicent swallowed, “I don’t- I could be punished for leading you astray.”
Rhaenyra leaned forward, holding herself up on her arms, close to Alicent’s face, “Who says it isn’t I who leads you astray?”
Alicent didn’t speak for a few moments, calculating her response. Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know,” she said, finally, her eyes dropping down. Her hands began to fiddle together, and she picked at some of the dried blood at her cuticles.
Rhaenyra pulled Alicent’s hands from each other very gently and held them in her own, “How do you expect yourself to know what you want when you’ve not even had a taste?” They looked at each other in contemplative silence once more. Alicent glanced from their held hands, to Rhaenyra’s pale purple eyes and inhaled.
Rhaenyra did not ever think she would experience a feeling better than flying a dragon, soaring through the clouds and the sunlight. But Alicent’s soft lips on her own surely rivalled it. A myriad of exhilarating feelings swirled through Rhaenyra’s heart and head, seeing Alicent’s eyes closed and her brows were furrowed wantonly. She needed her. Rhaenyra closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side to kiss Alicent harder, which seemed to surprise the copper-headed maiden in front of her, but nevertheless, Alicent did not pull away.
Alicent tasted like something that Rhaenyra could not quite place her finger on, but she really didn’t care to think too hard about it in the moment. One of Alicent’s hands moved to touch her delicately underneath her jaw, not holding her fully, but just to have her closer. Alicent sat back a few moments later, eyes glossy and lips still parted, and they looked at each other in a sort of stunned quiet.
“You ate something sweet before the Small Council meeting,” Rhaenyra broke the silence.
“I- I did.” Alicent’s smile was bashful, and rather shy, “Honeycakes.”
“Sweet, like you.”
Alicent huffed, “You do like to fluster me, don’t you, Rhaenyra?”
“It’s an addictive sight,” Rhaenyra admitted, “Who wouldn’t want to see a pretty maiden blush?”
Alicent raised an eyebrow, “Ser Laenor, apparently.”
Rhaenyra’s jaw dropped and she laughed, “Ali!”
Alicent gave a cheeky smile, “And now it’s you chastising me with my name.”
“I’ve always felt punishment came disproportionately to me, when you’re just as devilish as I am,” Rhaenyra huffed.
“Is that why I tempt you? I’m one of the sinful creatures the Faith warns us of?”
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, “If the Seven do not condemn love between old men and children, but they condemn love between two maidens, are they really so righteous? I was never a strong believer, anyhow.”
“You’re right,” Alicent nodded, “I think I understand the Northmen more lately, that they would prefer to sit in front of a beautiful tree and not be so frigid with rules. The Godswood is so peaceful.”
A moment passed.
“So,” Rhaenyra found herself growing red in the face, “did you… like it?”
Alicent took a moment to understand what she meant, then she too blushed, “It was… the most exciting thing I’ve ever dared to do. I mean, I kissed a princess . Sure, my father would rather I kiss a prince, but…” she trailed off, biting her lip a little. The unsaid words rang in her head. I wouldn’t .
“I wish I could be your prince,” Rhaenyra said, “I may not have been born a man, or raised one, but I think we all have that of masculine faculty in our hearts. I do not wish to be a man, but I wish to have their power.”
“You do have their power,” Alicent ran her fingers along Rhaenyra’s shoulder, and looked her in her eyes, “You need only utilise it.”
Rhaenyra’s eyes darted all over Alicent. Her face, her hair, her body.
Alicent frowned, “Is everything-?”
“You’re beautiful,” Rhaenyra said, wonder in her voice, “I’ve wanted to say that for moons, but I didn’t want it to be taken the wrong way not knowing your feelings. Do you know why I want to take you on Syrax?”
“For the, um, experience?” Alicent shrugged, smiling awkwardly.
“Well, yes,” Rhaenyra nodded once, and smiled, “But so I would be able to show you how you make me feel. Spending time with you feels akin to flying her.”
Alicent’s eyelashes fluttered, but she kept her gaze to the princess, “You feel that strongly? Towards me?”
“Stronger than Valyrian steel. No distance nor time could ever make me forget how I love you,” Rhaenyra said, not realising the words she had spoken. Only when Alicent’s mouth fell open in astonishment did her eyes widen. “Sorry, I didn’t-!”
Her words dissipated as Alicent launched forward and kissed her. The Hightower girl threw her arms around Rhaenyra’s shoulders, but the force of it pushed the princess flat on her back on top of the bed. Alicent giggled after she pulled back, staring down at Rhaenyra, who was a blushing mess, almost frozen beneath Alicent.
“You’re going to ruin my hair,” Rhaenyra spoke, stunned.
“As if you care for it that much. You didn’t exactly put any effort into it,” Alicent raised an eyebrow. Her dark auburn hair threatened to fall over her shoulder onto Rhaenyra's face, and she rested on her hands either side of the girl’s head.
Rhaenyra looked mildly offended, “I’ll have you know I brushed it myself.”
“I thought so,” Alicent surveyed the silver-gold locks cascading around the princess’s face. What a pretty sight it was, looking down on the Targaryen. Haunting lilac eyes, a small nose, daring eyebrows, the expression of surprise remaining on her face. It gave Alicent a very giddy feeling. Not in a million summers would she ever had thought to kiss the princess, much less hover over her, control her like this.
Before Rhaenyra could argue, Alicent kissed her again. She savoured the feeling of her lips, her taste, her touch. She didn’t think she’d ever find a more wonderful feeling. Rhaenyra grumbled under her kisses, not to object, but because she knew she couldn’t resist.
“You’re an evil girl, Alicent Hightower,” Rhaenyra’s hands ran up the sides of Alicent’s waist and torso as she whispered, “I’m yours.”
And Alicent knew it too. Rhaenyra may have been the princess, heir to the Iron Throne and a future Queen, but right now all she was, was Alicent’s.