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“You need to bone.”
Rhaenyra whips her head around to shoot her cousin an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused, and you need to bone,” Laena says evenly, and takes a tiny sip of her cocktail. “Gods, that is good. What is it about hotel bars that makes their cocktails so bloody delicious?”
She doesn’t have time for her cousin’s antics today. “I need to bone ? What exactly are you implying?”
“Rhaenyra.” The younger Velaryon sibling - and her least favourite one, at the moment - gives her a patient look. “Come on. You’ve become a nightmare to deal with ever since Margaery finally womaned up and made it official with that Sansa girl. I say it with no small amount of love - your mood is entirely dependent on having a good, healthy sex life.”
At that, she narrows her eyes. “Did you just call me a whore?”
“Please,” Laena scoffs. “And if I did, I’d mean it as a compliment. No, Rhaenyra, I’m not calling you a whore, I’m telling you that you need to shag someone so you stop being such a dickhead to everyone around you. I mean, you almost blew it at dinner tonight.”
“Jason Lannister is a worse dickhead than I could ever hope to be,” Rhaenyra points out, defending herself and all of the thinly veiled insults she’s showered the man with just a couple of hours ago. “And I’m not a dickhead to everyone. I’m not a dickhead to you, am I?”
“It’s impossible to be a dickhead to me,” her cousin says. “I’m a delight. Which is the only reason we haven’t lost the deal with the Lannisters, by the way. I had to really suck up to him the entire night because you are going feral without your girl toy and you’re taking it out on the wrong people at a very wrong time.” She sighs, then, and leans forward to pat Rhaenyra’s arm. “Look, I’m mostly joking, but I’m also very serious. You really need the stress relief. It’s been, what - almost a year now?”
Rhaenyra wants to growl at her. She really does. Instead, she grits her teeth and reclines in her armchair. “Fourteen months,” she mutters, and Laena immediately stops smirking.
“Oh, Gods,” she says. “You’re counting the months . This is bad. Atrocious, really. I’d even say–”
“Right, that’s quite enough ,” Rhaenyra interrupts, with a scowl. “So I’m going through a bit of a dry spell. Nothing fatal.”
She only realises her catastrophic mistake in wording when Laena’s smile grows wide with unrestrained glee. “Oh,” she groans, rolling her eyes. “Do not start.”
Laena is a witch. Or she possesses the power of hypnosis, at the very least. There’s no other viable explanation for the predicament Rhaenyra’s currently found herself in.
The predicament being, of course, her pacing in her hotel room as she anxiously waits for her escort to arrive.
How in the world did I manage to agree to this, she thinks over and over, her eyes falling onto the door like it’s just promised to murder her. Which - in a way, she guesses, is true. She’s sure she’s about to kick it from the sheer mortification as soon as the escort walks through it, anyway.
She hired a - Gods . She really let Laena talk her into that.
“It’s a very discreet agency,” her cousin told her right after somehow wrangling a yes out of her. “High-end, too - obviously.”
“How do you even know about it?” Rhaenyra demanded.
Laena scoffed, then. “I’ve been working at Valyria Corp quite a bit longer than you, little cousin. Before meeting Kevan, I had… Let’s just say I had plenty of needs and none of the time to satisfy them.”
“I wish I could erase this entire conversation from my brain,” Rhaenyra let her know, as earnestly as she could muster.
“Please. Modesty doesn’t go well with your Targaryen blonde,” her cousin laughed, then, and asked if she had any special requests. Rhaenyra only cringed.
“Can they – I don’t know. Gods. Could they make it so it doesn’t quite feel like I’m hiring an escort?”
Couple of hours later, Laena’s phone chimed with the confirmation that everything was set up and Rhaenyra’s companion was on her way. Because the word companion is so much better than escort.
Someone knocks. Even though Rhaenyra has spent the last twenty minutes or so anticipating just that, it still startles her: she flinches, and then grits her teeth at the involuntary action. Good Gods, she thinks to herself, with no small amount of annoyance. Get a grip. It’s just a person; this is a very simple transaction .
The pep talk almost worked, Rhaenyra reasons a minute later; certainly would’ve, had she not just opened the door to the most beautiful woman she’s ever laid her eyes on.
“Ms Targaryen?” A voice asks, deep velvet, husky - not at all what she would’ve expected from the woman, yet suiting her perfectly.
The woman smiles, demure and gentle. “I’m Alicent.” She licks her lips, then briefly glances away, as if embarrassed by her own gesture. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Rhaenyra,” she croaks out, before clearing her throat and offering Alicent a hand to shake, like a goddamn idiot. “Likewise. I - please, do come in.”
As she watches Alicent do just that, far more poised than most of Rhaenyra’s highborn acquaintances, unhurried and unassuming in her steps, she realises, with a startling clarity, that she can’t do this.
“But it’s paid for,” Alicent says. Her voice is confused, and so are her eyebrows, knit together. She looks almost out of place, here - on a hotel room couch, tucked into its corner as she studies Rhaenyra with the polite curiosity of a stranger.
Rhaenyra winces. “I realise that,” she says, awkwardly. She’s never awkward. Not like this. Yet, in the presence of this woman - under these circumstances – “I won’t ask for a refund, if that’s what troubles you. I – this was more of a misunderstanding between my cousin and I, truth be told.”
Careful dark brows rise. It’s almost as if Alicent is seconds away from stifling a laugh. “Your cousin set this up for you?”
“Gods,” Rhaenyra mutters. “It’s – a long story.”
An auburn lock falls over the slope of a delicate shoulder as Alicent shrugs. “Well, I was booked for the entire night. I’ve got nothing but time till the morning, at the very least.” She appraises Rhaenyra, then, as she kicks off her modest heels and tucks her legs under herself, immediately looking soft . “You could take a seat as well, you know,” she points out, with a small half-smile. “We don’t have to do anything. Truly. The agency won’t care either way.”
Rhaenyra releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “If they won’t, why are you still here?” She asks, before realising how it must sound , and hastily adding: “It’s not that - I’m not kicking you out, it’s just… You could leave, if you wanted to. It’s fine.”
“I know,” Alicent says, evenly. “But I was promised a story, I believe. It’s not often, in my line of work, that a client pays for the service and then refuses it.” She looks at Rhaenyra, then. For a long second, she just looks. “It also seems to me that you could use an ear. Unless you’d like me to go. In that case–”
“No,” Rhaenyra blurts out. She’ll wonder, later, and then much later still, just how different things would’ve been if she hasn’t - if she weren’t as sure in her desire to keep Alicent there, not for the purposes she came, but – for something else entirely. For company. For her mere presence.
She’ll wonder, also, if that’s when she should’ve realised everything sooner.
“No,”she repeats, quieter this time. “You’re welcome to stay. I did promise you a story, after all.”
Alicent’s grinning by the time she finishes her first tale of the night. “Gods, Rhaenyra,” she says. “You basically told him just how small his penis was, without actually saying it. How did he even agree to your deal, in the end?”
“The only thing Lannisters love more than boasting about their sexual prowess is boasting about their money,” Rhaenyra shrugs, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s a good deal. He’d be a braindead fool to refuse it. His father would’ve hunted him for sport if he did, either way.”
“Would yours?”
Rhaenyra blinks. “I beg your pardon?”
“Would your father hunt you for sport, if the deal fell through because of you?” Alicent elaborates, looking genuinely interested in her answer.
She laughs. It’s involuntary. “No. Of course not. But he’d be disappointed, surely. Somehow, that’s worse.”
The dark brown of Alicent’s eyes glistens with something - a thoughtfulness, a distant memory. “Somehow, it is.”
Rhaenyra wants to ask. She doesn’t.
The next morning, Laena is positively glowing.
“Well?” She says, before Rhaenyra’s even had the chance to properly sit down at their table on the terrace.
She just stares at her. “Are you honestly expecting the sordid details?”
“That is entirely up to you, but I’d like to get the general idea,” Laena retorts, with an easy grin that makes it impossible to be mad at her.
That’s how it goes, in their family, and Rhaenyra’s long accepted it since. So, even now, she only sighs and leans back in her chair, letting her cousin continue the unsavoury interrogation.
“You look like you’ve barely slept, and I mean it as a compliment,” Laena says, meanwhile. “I take it the mission was a resounding success. I also take it you’re buying me champagne on our flight back to King’s Landing.”
“It already comes with business class,” Rhaenyra deadpans, but can’t quite stop an involuntary smile. At that, Laena smirks.
“Ah,” she drawls. “I spy the smugness of that Targaryen satisfaction all over your face, cousin.”
“That sentence was unnecessarily sexual.”
“Bet so was last night.”
“Honestly, are you twelve?” Judging by the expression on Laena’s face, the answer is an enthusiastic yes . Rhaenyra sighs, again; looks around and leans in, feeling it both dumb and necessary to drop her voice to an almost-whisper. “Look - okay. Last night was great, but not for the, frankly, traumatising reasons you seem to be picturing vividly in your head. I…” She glances around, again. “Nothing happened. Alright? We just – talked.”
Until sunrise, and then some more. Alicent mostly listened, and commented; at some point, Rhaenyra found herself laying with her head in the woman’s lap, gentle fingers threading through her hair.
“An unconventional therapy session,” Rhaenyra quipped, at some point, and Alicent laughed.
“Imagine your cousin foresaw this entire thing and I actually am a therapist in disguise.”
She snorted. “Laena could. Are you a therapist in disguise? You’d make a good one. You’re a great listener. I - Gods, I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. In a different way,” she added when the woman shot her an amused look.
Alicent shrugged. “I learned to listen because of this job, actually,” she said, and Rhaenyra blinked up at her.
“Do you get losers like me a lot, then?” She asked, and watched the auburn curls bounce as Alicent shook her head.
“Don’t call yourself that. And - you’d be surprised. How many people just want somebody to listen. Some people are just lonely.”
Rhaenyra chose not to comment on that, for the sake of her dignity. There’s not much left anyway, currently, if the unamused expression on Laena’s face is any indication.
“I’m sorry,” her cousin says. “Did you just tell me I paid three thousand pounds for you to talk ?”
Rhaenyra barely manages not to spit her drink out. “You paid three thousand pounds ?!” She whisper-yells.
“You spent the night chatting instead of fucking?” Laena whisper-yells right back.
An elderly couple walks past them, nodding with polite smiles. They nod right back. Rhaenyra gulps at her coffee and wishes it were something much stronger. A mimosa, at least. Now that’s an idea.
“Gods be good,” Laena gripes, though with the beginning of a smile. “You get a high-end escort sent to your room and you blab your way through the night. Were I to send some coke along, you’d flush it down the toilet. Truly, you did mellow out with age.”
“I - why would you send coke?” Rhaenyra rubs at her temples, exasperated. “You have got to stop hanging out with Daemon so much. I can’t tell sometimes who it is I’m talking to, out of you two.”
“Rhaenyra,” her cousin shakes her head. She’s smiling openly, now; incredulous and fond. “What did you even talk about?”
She’s silent, for a bit. Then, with a sigh. “Just - things.”
“Oh. Things. Of course. A three thousand pounds worth of things, I presume.”
“Gods, I had no idea Alicent was - I mean.” Saying she didn’t know Alicent was worth that much feels very wrong - in her opinion, after having spent the night sort of getting to know the woman, she’d say she’s worth much more than this entire situation. But she also didn’t know anyone could charge that much for –
“Alicent?” The youngest Velaryon perks up, for a seemingly different reason now. “She told you her name?”
Rhaenyra feels herself tense up. “Was she not supposed to?”
“I actually don’t know,” Laena says. “The contract doesn’t specify that, but the agency never gives real names. Part of protecting the workers, I’m sure.”
“Oh.” She swallows, looking at her glass. “It could’ve been a fake name.”
“Sounds pretty real to me.”
At that, Rhaenyra shoots her a smirk. “Part of it not feeling like an escort situation, I’m sure.”
Thankfully, her cousin drops it; the rest of the evening, she spends goodnaturedly making fun of Rhaenyra’s newfound performance anxiety, as she’s dubbed it. Rhaenyra doesn’t really mind it. Takes it in stride and makes a couple of quips herself. After a while, the conversation naturally shifts to something else, and she lets out a small breath of relief.
There’s something else she hasn’t told Laena about - something that, she’s sure, is indicated in the contract Alicent apparently has. Something that she can practically feel burning inside the pocket of her trousers, from within the digital confinements of her phone’s contact list.
What are you doing?
That’s pretty much the only thing running through her head as she finishes typing her text and pressing send . She’s agonised over it for days, feeling something daft like a schoolgirl with a crush - something she’s never quite felt before.
And also the thing is - there’s a reason Rhaenyra’s been having the dry spell Laena so mercifully tried to help with.
Despite never really having a proper relationship - an astonishing realisation she’s only now having about herself - she’s always had to have some sort of intimacy when it came to connecting with someone. That’s what it’s always been about. A connection. She might not have shared a romantic one with any of her lovers, but it was an emotional one, that she was sure of. With Harwin, there was loyalty, and trust, and friendship that stayed long after their passion had fizzled out. With Margaery, there was understanding, support, and chemistry - off the chart, insane chemistry that left them both dazed and drunk on each other almost the entire time they were helping each other out.
Margaery just happened to find someone she could share all of that with and also be in love with. Which was totally fine. Actually fine, not pretend fine. Rhaenyra just wishes, sometimes, that she could find that someone too.
But. The connection. Something Rhaenyra has always required of her lovers; something that she’s never had any luck finding in bars and clubs, where most things are fleeting and mechanical. Something she’s felt with every fibre of her entire bloody being the night she met Alicent. Almost as if her very soul vibrated at her presence, and Alicent’s hummed back.
She’s well aware how idiotic she’d sound if she were to say it out loud, but it wouldn’t make it any less true.
Rhaenyra forces herself not to glance at her phone every other second. Or tries to, more like, and fails miserably. Thankfully, her shameful torture only lasts a minute.
Her phone lights up with a reply from Alicent just as she looks at it again, and she doesn’t even attempt to fight off an involuntary grin as she grabs at it.
Glad to hear you made it back to King’s Landing, the text reads. I do happen to have some free time right now if you’d like to call? Unless we need to arrange it through your cousin.
Rhaenyra barks out a laugh, and presses call.
“Cousin.” Laena is almost amused, but not quite. “This is a regular meeting, and besides, Lannister is my account. I surely can handle it alone.”
Rhaenyra shrugs. “I know,” she says, easily. “I just want to tag along. Change of scenery and all that. Been feeling a bit cooped up in the Keep, is all. And Oldtown is beautiful this time of year.”
“Right. Of course. Oldtown, or its residents? A resident in particular, mayhaps?”
Rhaenyra bristles, quite unfairly. “What are you implying?”
“I’m outright saying,” Laena snorts. “You want to fly in and find that girl for another talking round, don’t you.”
There’s not much point denying it, so she doesn’t. “So what if I am?” She says instead, and Laena only shakes her head.
“Just be careful, cousin,” she says. “Would do you some good to remember the girl isn’t in the line of work where loyalty is a virtue.”
Rhaenyra’s hackles rise. “Mind your tongue.”
To that, her cousin doesn’t reply.
Over the phone, Alicent sounds mildly surprised, but still warm. “A dinner?” She repeats Rhaenyra’s earlier suggestion.
She swallows, shrugging even though the other woman can’t see her. “I feel like I’ve been talking your ear off for the past few weeks,” she says, and means it. “The least I could do is make sure you’re getting some good food out of it.”
Alicent’s laughter is honey-like; soothing and thick. “A more than fair transaction,” she says. “Alright. I’d love to have dinner with you, Rhaenyra. As long as you promise me that’s not the sole reason you flew to Oldtown.”
“Of course not,” she scoffs, ignoring the coldness of her lie pooling in the pit of her stomach. “I do have business to tend to here. I simply figured I could also see you. If - if you’d like that, as well.”
The woman huffs - Rhaenyra imagines she’s grinning. “I’ve already agreed to go to dinner with you. Don’t lay it on quite so thick, darling.”
Fully aware of how pathetic she is, she decides right then and there that she quite likes it when Alicent calls her darling.
Alicent is a vision in green. Rhaenyra tells her as much.
The woman gives her a pleased, muted smile. “Thank you. You clean up quite nicely, yourself.” Brown eyes trail over Rhaenyra’s suit-clad form, clearly appreciative.
She fights the urge to grin too widely. “Why, thank you.”
The rest of the dinner is a delightful blur. Alicent is, as usual, attentive and detail-oriented in her listening, asking questions and laughing easily and freely at Rhaenyra’s frankly dumb jokes. She tells stories about her roommates - both theatre actors, so the conversation naturally turns to art, and plays, and books. When they discover they are currently reading the same novel, Alicent’s beautiful inquisitive eyes light up in a way that damn nearly stops Rhaenyra’s heart.
She doesn’t need Laena to tell her she’s way in over her head.
Unlike the last time they saw each other face to face, they don’t discuss Alicent’s work. Rhaenyra doesn’t ask, and her dinner companion doesn’t bring it up.
(Another sign of future trouble, Rhaenyra knows - but Alicent is so, so lovely with her head thrown back in laughter, and she decides she doesn’t want to think about it.)
She offers to walk Alicent home, simply because she’s not ready to let her go yet. “Or we could split a cab,” she says. “I’d like to see you get home safely. If that’s alright.”
That’s the first time Alicent gives her that look ; a cross between pensive and amused, like she’s both trying to figure her out and searching for something only she knows about. “It is alright,” she says, then. “Let’s walk. I’m only a couple of streets away.”
“Alright,” Rhaenyra says, as nonchalant as she can muster, and tells her traitorous heart to stop beating so fast in her chest.
Is this what it’s like , she thinks - a connection that’s romantic? The pounding in her chest and the sweating of her palms, and the tremble in her arms as she slips off her jacket and drapes it over Alicent’s delicate shoulders - is this what this is? It’s certainly already more than she’s ever experienced before.
But does it have to be with –
“That’s me,” Alicent murmurs as they slow to a stop in front of a nondescript apartment building.
“Oh,” she says, already disappointed that their night is coming to an end. “Alright. Thank you, once again, for agreeing to have dinner with me.”
An auburn lock escapes Alicent’s easy updo as she cocks her head and studies her; Rhaenyra tells herself, firmly, that she will not reach out and tuck it behind her ear no matter how much she suddenly wants to. “A strange thing to thank someone for,” Alicent says. “Especially when I got something out of it, myself.”
Rhaenyra, who’s still fixating on that darn lock, blinks herself back to awareness. “I - oh? You did?”
Full lips quirk in a smile. “Well, yes. Of course I did. Good food, fine wine, great company.” She trails her eyes over Rhaenyra once more, this time slow. Suggestive, Rhaenyra realises. “The night doesn’t have to end so quick, you know.”
“It doesn’t?” Rhaenyra parrots, hating just how out of depth she finds herself.
Alicent smirks. It’s too sharp, and too – she’s got the word right there, at the tip of her tongue, but then the woman is stalking towards her, and her senses are assaulted with everything Alicent . “You’ve been so good to me tonight, darling,” she murmurs. Slow, calculating hands find her biceps, trail up to her shoulders and just barely down her chest, stopping shy of her breasts. “So good, and sweet. You deserve a reward now.”
Performative. That’s what it is, and that’s what she is right now. Gone is the sincerity of Alicent at dinner. This is her doing her job .
Her mouth tastes sour. She barely manages to turn her head as Alicent leans up, and warm lips graze her cheek instead. “No,” she says, quietly. Weakly . Too much emotion, too much disappointment, too much – “Alicent, that’s not why–” She takes a deep breath, and a step back, as her hands find Alicent’s on her chest and softly, but firmly, push them away from her.
“Oh.” Her gaze is surprised, and confused. Somewhere deep in Rhaenyra’s chest, something hurts. “But – ”
“Did you think this was me trying to get my money’s worth?” When Alicent doesn’t reply right away, Rhaenyra nods. “Right. Of course.” It all comes crashing down - the reality of Alicent’s life and the weight of her own stupidity.
Whatever this is between them - for Alicent, it’s not the same.
She takes a big breath while the shorter woman just watches her. “That’s not why I asked you to dinner,” she says.
Alicent is wearing a slight frown as she studies her. “Then why did you?”
Because I thought – I felt… “I just wanted to see you again,” Rhaenyra settles on, finally, and forces herself to look her in the eye. Forces herself to smile - an easy, friendly smile. “I enjoy our conversations, and - some people really are lonely. I don’t… I don’t really have anyone outside my family to talk to, and you’re – it’s easier, sometimes, with you. Easier to tell you things.”
Alicent worries at her lower lip. She still looks confused, but more at ease. “Oh. So… You want to be friends ?”
She lets out a sigh, and then laughs. Right. Yes. That’s good, she supposes. “Yes. I’d like to be friends. If that’s alright with you.”
“And my occupation doesn’t bother you?”
She swallows her own protest down. “Why would it?” She says, as upbeat as she can manage. “It’s your life. I support your choices. I support sex workers.”
Alicent snorts. “Good on you for being so inclusive, but this isn’t exactly my choice.” She looks weary, all of a sudden, and her shoulders sag under Rhaenyra’s jacket. Rhaenyra only just realises, belatedly, that she has no idea how old Alicent is; how old Alicent was when she started doing this. “Never really dreamed of being a sex worker . Just so happens that it’s all I know.”
Rhaenyra’s fingers twitch with the desire to reach out. She holds herself still. “I’m sure there are options to change… careers ,” she says, and Alicent laughs. It’s bitter, and dismissive, and it makes Rhaenyra feel like an absolute asshole.
“Sure. They all cost money I don’t really have. I’m sure you got charged a ridiculous amount of money last time, but I only get a fraction of it, and it’s not just me I have to think about.” At Rhaenyra’s sharp look, she sighs. “Well. Since we’re friends now. I have a son. He’s six, and he starts school next year, and I swear having children gets more and more expensive every damn month. I love him, don’t get me wrong. I’m trying to give him as much of a normal, happy childhood as I can, but that means I can’t exactly splurge on myself and a potential career shift.”
A six year old son. Rhaenyra swallows, and before she can stop herself – “How old were you when… I mean, is he–”
“Yes. He’s the direct result of my line of work, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Alicent says, a sardonic grin on her lips. “I was seventeen. First month of being a whore, you make some mistakes here and there, like letting a client take the condom off.”
Seventeen.
Something within Rhaenyra rages and roars and wishes it could find that man and tear him limb from limb. “Gods,” she breathes out.
“Yeah,” Alicent agrees. Her easy mask is back on, the only evidence of it slipping stuck in her eyes, unshed and glistening. “You’re in for a peculiar friendship, if I haven’t scared you off by now.”
Rhaenyra just looks at her, for several long seconds, before gathering the courage to slowly walk back to her and find her hands. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, you’ll find,” she says quietly. “I’d like to know more about you. As much as you’ll allow me to.”
As Alicent tentatively returns her half-smile, she makes a promise to herself to make sure she doesn’t regret it.
Alicent’s father, a religious fanatic, disowned her, a lesbian, when she was sixteen.
“I spent a year living on the streets,” she tells her. “By some miracle, I wasn’t assaulted and killed, but when one of the women in the shelter learned I was still a virgin, she told me I could make a good amount of money selling my maidenhead. By that time, I was exhausted from constantly being poor. She put me in contact with a brothel owner. In her own way, she’s helped me a lot, you know. It was a higher-end establishment, and they were quite happy to offer a sweet meek virgin like me a job. Turns out it’s the most popular fantasy.” Alicent’s wry grin is full of distant memories. “I grew out of it, of course. A regular client put me in contact with the agency I work at now, said I’d be perfect for the girlfriend experience . And I am. The money is enough for Aemond and I, and the hours aren’t horrible. And so, here I am.”
She doesn’t let Rhaenyra meet Aemond, at first. Rhaenyra doesn’t push. She does, however, mull over ways to approach Alicent with something she’s been thinking of ever since their first dinner. Because over time - less than a month, but still - Alicent truly has become someone dear to her. She’d like to consider them proper friends, and friends help each other.
And honestly, it’ll cost her less than nothing, in the grand scheme of things. At twenty three, she’s got access to her trust fund and an unfairly high-paying job at the family company. In her mind, not making this offer to Alicent would be the shitty thing to do.
She, of course, does it with little finesse in the end. “Come to King’s Landing,” she blurts out one day, as they lounge on the couch in her newly acquired Oldtown flat, watching the telly.
Alicent’s brows fly up. “Excuse me?”
“I…” Rhaenyra sighs, and clicks the remote before turning to face an increasingly incredulous Alicent. “Please don’t be mad. Your silent fury is incredibly intimidating, has anyone told you that?”
“Once or twice,” Alicent deadpans. “What do you mean, come to King’s Landing? ” She’s already tense, and the wine almost splashes over the rim of her glass when she puts it on the coffee table.
Rhaenyra sighs again. “Right. Look. You know I’m not the most subtle person, or the most patient one, so I’m just going to come out with it. I’ve thought about this a lot, and – I want to help you in any way I can. Because you’re my friend,” she hastily adds, noting Alicent’s darkening frown. “What I would like to offer you is to move to King’s Landing, enrol in a certificate program of your choosing, and start over. And I…” she takes a deep breath, because that’s the part that might have Alicent throwing something sharp at her head. “I will pay for all of that. I’ll set up an account for you with enough funds for your living expenses, and pay for your rent upfront, and Aemond can go to any private school of your choosing.” When Alicent keeps quiet, she hurriedly continues. “It can be a - a long-term private loan. I can have my lawyers draw a contract, with no interest, of course. You can make as many tweaks to it as you’d like. We could –”
“Why?” Alicent asks, suddenly. She doesn’t seem mad, or offended, which Rhaenyra is very relieved about. But she’s giving her the look again, and there’s something new in the depth of her big eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“I told you.” She swallows, hard. “We’re friends. I help my friends. And it’s - it won’t even make a dent, to me. I know I sound like a giant asshole, but it’s true. I’m disgustingly rich. It’s horrible, really. You can consider this my 1% guilt, if you’d like.”
Only for a second, Alicent is silent. Then, she bursts out laughing. A beat later, Rhaenyra joins - both unsure and relieved.
“So,” Alicent drawls after they calm down a bit. “I’m your charity case. Is that it?”
“No, Alicent - I’m– ”
“Rhaenyra.” Brown eyes are calm and earnest as they study her. “I’m not offended. I don’t have the sort of pride you mistake me for having. Wouldn’t be doing what I do, if I possessed any.”
“I don’t think–”
“It’s fine,” Alicent cuts her off, a bit more forceful this time. “Of course I accept your offer. Even if you’d wanted to bring me with you as your toy, to serve however you want, I’d have accepted it given a good enough incentive and some basic guarantee of my personal security, for the sake of my son. You’re offering me a golden ticket and you think me the sort of idealistic imbecile to turn it down?”
“I just…” Rhaenyra blinks, and looks away as she rubs at the back of her neck. “Never mind. My offer stands, and I’m happy you accept it,” she mumbles.
“You don’t seem happy,” Alicent comments, and takes a sip of her wine. She’s very… relaxed about it. She is like that about most things, Rhaenyra’s noticed.
She shakes her head. “No, I’m just embarrassed, as usual, for assuming things about you. My offer still stands,” she repeats.
Alicent studies her, then. For a beat, they don’t speak; Rhaenyra looks away again, but a firm finger crooks under her chin, forcing her to look into composed brown eyes again. After a second, Alicent’s gaze softens.
“Life taught me things, Rhaenyra,” she says softly; the finger under Rhaenyra’s chin turns into a caress, runs up to her cheekbone and smoothes over it. “Any opportunity I get, I take it, and I don’t ask unnecessary questions along the way, as long as it can serve me and my son. Pride gets in the way of things. But,” her lips curl in a smile, small but sincere - the kind Rhaenyra loves most of all, from her, the one she gets so rarely and cherishes so much. “Your offer is gracious, and kind, and if I still had the principles of my youth instilled in me, it would hurt them much less than most of what I’ve done. You’re a good person, Rhaenyra.” Brown eyes search her face, with that look again, and Rhaenyra struggles to breathe. “I thank you for that.”
Alicent does have a request, in the form of her friend and roommate coming with them as they set her up in King’s Landing. His name is Criston Cole and he doesn’t talk much - just shoots her dark looks from time to time and stares longingly at Alicent when she’s not looking, the bastard.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Alicent says. “But it’s also - I’ve been doing this for a long time, and things can happen.”
Rhaenyra unsuccessfully tries to trample the rage she feels at the thought of anyone even considering hurting Alicent. “Of course,” she says. “I understand. He’s more than welcome. If you’d like me to leave my information with someone–”
Alicent is quiet for a second. Then: “Would you be willing to…?”
She sends a copy of her ID and her main address to Alicent’s roommates a minute later.
“Thank you, Rhaenyra,” Alicent says, when they are on a plane, ready to take off. It’s quiet - almost shy, so unlike the Alicent she knows. Perhaps, it’s the Alicent the world has tried to destroy; the shadow of her that survived. “Just - thank you. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”
She has to bite at the inside of her cheek to stop herself from blurting out something stupid like I think I’m falling in love with you . “Well, finance managers do make an ungodly amount of money at Valyria Corp, just so you know.”
“Doubt they do so at an entry level,” Alicent laughs, before noticing Rhaenyra’s pensive expression. “No,” she says, albeit with a smile. “Whatever you’re thinking, no.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking about?”
Alicent arches a perfect brow. “So you weren’t considering setting me up with an internship at your father’s company and paying me more than the CEO?”
“I - well, you can’t prove it,” Rhaenyra grumbles. “And weren’t you telling me all about seizing each and every opportunity that came your way?”
“Of course,” her friend says, with a quick flash of her teeth in a smirk. “But you’re helping me finally be free of that. It’s an opportunity to start over, not be forever dependent on yet another arrangement. That’s what I want. Truly. And without you, I…” Alicent sighs, and reaches over to grasps Rhaenyra’s hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “ Thank you . I mean it.”
Rhaenyra stays awake the entire flight, watching her sleep, committing every twitch, every soft sigh and snore to memory as Alicent never quite lets go of her hand.
Criston’s eyes drill a hole in the back of her head. She ignores him.
It all goes as well as it can. Rhaenyra pays a three-year lease on a two-bedroom apartment in Alicent’s name. “If you ever decide to cut me out of your life, I legally won’t be able to kick you out,” Rhaenyra tells her as she gives her the contract. “Not that I’d ever do. Even if you stop being friends with me. But - I’m just pointing out that you’re safely set up on your own.”
“I’m sure your army of Targaryen lawyers could claim I’ve conned you, with my womanly wiles,” Alicent snorts, but takes the contract nonetheless.
“You could threaten to expose the way we met,” Rhaenyra shrugs. “We’d settle out of court. You might push for half a million quid, maybe even one. Beesbury would advise me to take it.”
Alicent only lets out a surprised laugh. “Good to know. You really suck at protecting yourself, just so you know. Don’t go around telling that to every escort you meet.”
“Of course not. I only say that to friends,” Rhaenyra tells her, and smiles, and tries to ignore the way her chest aches at the gods-damned f -word.
Don’t be gross , she tells herself. You are her friend. You’re not expecting a reward for this. Keep your feelings to yourself .
She gets to meet Aemond the day he and Alicent fly back in from Oldtown, with the rest of their things. Alicent’s semester starts in two weeks, and it’s plenty of time for them to get him assimilated. He’s a sweet boy, if a little too serious and silent for his age. Rhaenyra brings him comic books, a cake, and a promise to take him horse-riding this weekend. By the time he goes off to bed, she’s his new favourite person.
“Keep it going, and he’ll love you more than he loves me,” Alicent quips as Rhaenyra quietly exits Aemond’s bedroom and slowly shuts the door - the boy has begged her to read his new comic book together, and she didn’t have the heart nor desire to refuse.
Rhaenyra grins. “Impossible,” she says, and enjoys the pink on Alicent’s cheeks before stopping herself.
She can’t. This is not something she can pursue, now - not ever. She’s really in a grave dug by her own hands. If she ever asks anything more than friendship of Alicent, she’ll think Rhaenyra’s demanding payback. Getting her money’s worth.
It doesn’t matter, she decides - especially after meeting Aemond; especially after seeing Alicent’s beaming, proud smile after completing her first successful assignment in school. All that matters is that she’s helping her, and her friendship is more than enough.
It all comes to a head at the end of Alicent’s first semester. Alicent does brilliantly, of course, and celebrates by hosting a dinner at her flat with several of her new mates from school. Rhaenyra is the guest of honour. She already knows most of Alicent’s new friends, and she likes them - at least they don’t give her a constant stink eye like Criston did.
“To my best friend,” Alicent says at the end of her toast, shyly, meaning her, with that damn look again. And Rhaenyra feels her heart shatter in a million little pieces, and really, she’s no better than that Cole rat - constantly chasing after Alicent for a modicum of her affection, hiding the truth of her feelings from her and holding onto the foolish hope that maybe - somehow…
“It’s time you move on,” Laena tells her when she finally musters the courage to come clean about the whole thing. And after she finishes tearing her a new one for being so insanely stupid. “Get over her. I’m still convinced the girl’s a talented con artist who somehow got you to sponsor her without giving up any of the goods - which, honestly, impressive enough for me to sort of respect her - but if you two are such good friends, she’ll be happy for you, and you’ll be infinitely happier being with someone who wants you back. Trust me.”
“I know. You don’t think I know that? But how is that fair to someone else, if I am with them while still not over another woman?”
Her cousin shrugs. “I’m not saying you should find someone to propose to. Just go on a couple of dates. Explore your options. Shag , for the love of all that is holy. And introduce me to Alicent.”
“World of no,” Rhaenyra immediately tells her, but takes her suggestion to heart. Even asks her to set up a date, that’s how desperate she is. And Laena is the one responsible for her meeting Alicent. Maybe she’ll find the love of her life for her, next.
She never gets to find out whether Laena does possess some sort of weird magic touch when it comes to meddling with Rhaenyra’s personal life, but in the end she’s not complaining.
The day of the arranged date, Rhaenyra has lunch with Alicent in her flat. Aemond’s still at school, and it’s just the two of them - Alicent tells her she has the night to herself, too.
“Aemond’s having his first sleepover,” she tells her, with a soft smile. “He’s very excited about it. Actually - why don’t you come over tonight and see him off with me? We can share that bottle of wine you gave me for Mother’s day.”
“Oh,” Rhaenyra fiddles with her rings. She wonders just how pissed Laena would be if she tried to reschedule. But - no. She needs to see this through. “I can’t tonight.”
Alicent’s expression changes to that of sympathy. “You have to work, don’t you? It’s alright. I hope you can rest this weekend. Should we go to a spa or–”
“I have a date,” Rhaenyra blurts out, and watches, in confused horror, as Alicent’s face freezes.
“A… a date,” Alicent says, slowly.
“Yes,” she says. Her palms are sweating again, and she curls them into fists. In the pit of her stomach, there’s this horrible feeling of – of having betrayed her. “A date.”
“Oh.”
For a moment, Alicent is perfectly still. Neither of them speaks. And Rhaenyra might not be an expert on things like that, but she’s pretty sure it’s not a normal reaction to your friend having a date.
Then, after what feels like a terrible, frozen eternity, Alicend nods and springs to her feet. “Right,” she says, her normally low voice unusually high-pitched. “Of course you have a date. That’s - grand.”
“Alicent,” Rhaenyra says slowly, and just as slowly rises to stand. There’s a hunch somewhere in the back of her mind that she can’t afford to believe in - but… “Are you okay?”
“Am I - why wouldn’t I be?” Alicent asks, trying - and failing - to sound as composed as she always does. “I’m great. Congratulations. On your date. I expect all the details.” At her own words, she winces, and whips around. “I - I actually need to get back to studying, and lunch is almost over–”
“Alicent,” Rhaenyra repeats. Her legs carry her towards the woman of their own accord, it seems. She doesn’t mind. “Are you… are you jealous ?”
Alicent chokes out a laugh that sounds suspiciously like a sob. “What?” She scoffs. “Why in the world would I be jealous? We’re friends, Rhaenyra.”
She hums. “Ah. Then why don’t you turn around?”
“I…” Alicent starts to say, and stops. “Fine,” she bites out.
Rhaenyra watches, in awe, as she turns and looks at her with eyes misty and furious . “Alicent,” she whispers, reaching out, but the woman shakes her head.
“ Fine ,” she repeats - almost snarls. “There. Happy? Yes, Rhaenyra. I’m stupid enough to actually be jealous. Gods,” she scoffs at herself, angrily wiping at her eyes. “I promised myself I wouldn’t end up here with you , wouldn’t let myself…”
“What?” Rhaenyra takes another step forward, eager; hungry . “You wouldn’t let yourself what?”
“Fall for you, you muppet,” Alicent says, rolling her eyes. It’d be no different from her usual friendly affection if it weren't for the soft, unrestrained longing shining through her gaze. “How could I not? A giant cliche, that’s what I am. And now you’re going on dates, and I should be happy for you. I should be. But instead I’m mad, and jealous like a daft schoolgirl, and–”
She stops short, eyes growing wide with surprise as Rhaenyra finally closes the distance between them and gently cups her cheeks. “Alicent,” she breathes out. “Gods be good, could you please shut up for a second and let me kiss you?”
“I – but, your date…”
“Can’t give a rat’s arse about the date,” Rhaenyra whispers, “unless it’s with you.”
And, since that results in Alicent melting into her and finally, finally kissing her, she figures she answers right.
Her lips are soft, just like Rhaenyra’s imagined countless times, and she tastes better than anything she might’ve come up with in her head, because it’s real. Alicent Hightower is here and real, as she grasps at her and kisses her and gasps in her mouth as she swiftly unbuttons her shirt–
“Ah - Alicent , Gods - wait,” she pants as she catches Alicent’s impatient hands, stilling them.
“What?” Brown eyes - so dark they are practically black, the iris already all but swallowed by her wide pupils - stare at her, confused. “Do you – not want to?”
“Oh, I want to,” Rhaenyra tells her. It’s preposterous of Alicent to even suggest such a thing. “Of course I want to. But you don’t have to, simply because–”
“Simply because I’m in love with you?” Alicent finishes, and her breath catches in her throat as she freezes. “Because that’s what I am. In love with you. And now I’m really hoping you are, too.”
Rhaenyra somehow manages to make her mouth unfreeze. “Yes,” she utters. “Yes, of course I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you this entire time,” she admits, and Alicent’s gaze grows impossibly soft.
“Then what’s the problem?” She asks, glancing at Rhaenyra’s unbuttoned shirt. And at her still-buttoned trousers next - Gods above.
“Nothing, there’s none - I simply thought… I thought you might wish to take this slow,” she confesses. “I’d like to… to court you, first.”
“Oh,” Alicent breathes out. Both of her hands find her face, cradling it as she stares at her, love clear and unabashed in her gaze. “Rhaenyra. Darling. You’re so sweet, as always. I would love to be courted by you, and court you in return. But I’ve also spent almost a year wanting you so much it hurts, and so if you don’t take me right now, I swear to all the gods, Rhaenyra Targaryen, I’ll take you myself.”
Well. That’s a request she can’t exactly deny, now can she?
As they blindly stumble towards the bedroom, stopping at every available surface to exchange increasingly hungry kisses and touches, Rhaenyra thinks, briefly, that she should send Laena a gift basket.