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Alicent finds Rhaenyra in the Godswood. The princess is seated on a blanket beneath the weirwood tree, dressed in her dragon riding leathers. She has a book in her lap, and the sweet sound of the lyre and a bard’s singing fills the air.
Rhaenyra does not notice Alicent’s arrival, nor her approach, intent on the book she is reading. The bard on the other hand stands when he sees the Queen, stopping his music.
“Your Grace.”
“Did I say to stop?” Rhaenyra asks, boredom lacing her voice.
Alicent looks from Rhaenyra to the bard, who lifts his gaze to cast a glance at his princess. Alicent shifts from foot to foot with as much ease as she can manage.
“From the beginning.”
The bard lowers himself back to his seat and hesitantly resumes his singing. It is a song Alicent recognizes, about Nymeria and her thousand ships. Alicent can’t help but recall the book page she has folded in between her clothes and when Rhaenyra gave it to her beneath the weirwood tree.
“Rhaenyra?” Alicent asks softly.
Rhaenyra has not been outright angry, at least since the wedding, but her demeanor towards Alicent is cold, detached. She cares for her little now, even more so that Alicent has given the King the thing that cost Rhaenyra’s mother her life.
“Yes, my Queen?”
I am not your queen, Alicent wants to say. I am your lady, I am your friend. Let me be your friend again.
Alicent swallows around the words in her throat before speaking.
“Your presence is wanted in the outer courtyard,” Alicent says, her left hand moving unconsciously against her belly, an attempt to soothe the ache that comes from such a weight.
“The royal hunt readies to depart.”
“I've decided to remain here and read instead,” Rhaenyra says. She still does not spare Alicent a glance.
Alicent huffs out a breath. When they were girls, Rhaenyra’s stubbornness and petunace were almost endearing. In her current condition, Alicent finds neither to be so, just as she does the bard’s singing.
“You may go, Samwell.”
The bard stands, silent.
“You are to stay by order of the princess,” Rhaenyra says, looking over her shoulder at the man.
“The Queen commands you to leave the Godswood at once.” Alicent’s voice is sickly sweet. She watches as Samwell bows to the princess and bids her goodbye, before walking towards and past Alicent, doing the same, as he leaves the Godswood.
Alicent moves towards Rhaenyra as well as she can. She is ignored by the princess.
“The King wishes for you to join us.” It is a shield, using Viserys to express her own wants, but Rhaenyra will not listen otherwise.
“The King has much to celebrate,” Rhaenyra says dismissively. “He does not need me.”
“He wants for us all to be together.” I want for us to be together. “Perhaps the hunt could be… fun.” Alicent cliches her fist as she speaks and sees Rhaenyra’s eyes lift from her book.
“Is it the King's command?”
“Yes, but it–,”
Rhaenyra slams the book in her lap, startling Alicent as she stands.
“Then at once, Your Grace.” She spits the title with venom, a means to distance herself from Alicent. She pushes herself to her feet.
“But it needn’t be.” Alicent tries again. If she could just get Rhaenyra to listen to her, maybe they could return to being friends, companions even, but Rhaenyra has been steadfastly ignoring her for the past two years.. “None of it needs be this way in truth, Rhaenyra.”
Rhaenyra walks past her briskly. She has no intent on hearing Alicent out. Stubborn as a bull, a hard headed princess.
Alicent can be stubborn too. She is a queen now.
“Rhaenyra!” Alicent shouts.
The princess stops in her tracks.
Not once has Alicent raised her voice before Rhaenyra, not in the way she does now.
“You cannot ignore me forever,” Alicent says.
Rhaenyra turns around to face Alicent. Her eyes are cold, but they also feel like dragonfire as they pierce Alicent’s.
“I am the princess,” Rhaenyra huffs. “I can do as I wish.”
“And I am the Queen,” Alicent rebuffs, but the words fade into nothing as she speaks them. “I am your friend , Rhaenyra.”
Alicent does not want to plead, but it seems the only way.
“I know you are upset.”
“I am not upset, Your Grace,” Rhaenyra says sharply.
“Do not lie to me, Rhaenyra.” Alicent is growing annoyed at her antics.
“You are one to talk about lies,” Rhaenyra retorts. She takes a step towards Alicent. “You lied to me for months, seeing my father in his chambers, alone.”
“You know we did nothing but talk…” Alicent says. “It was innocent.”
“If it was innocent, you would not have hidden it from me.”
“It was not my choice.” Alicent says quietly.
“Yes, of course, it was at your fathers command.” Rhaenyra snarls. “Poor little Alicent Hightower, too meek and mild to refuse her father. He could’ve told you to bed him, and you would’ve obeyed him.”
The implication feels as if Alicent has been struck. Something in her chest tightens but she ignores the feeling.
“You cannot accuse me of such things,” Alicent says with as much strength as she can. She feels far too weak to argue with Rhaenyra now.
“Because you are the Queen?” Rhaenyra asks.
“Rhaenyra…” Alicent begs.
“You betrayed me, Alicent. You betrayed my mother .”
Queen Aemma was nothing but kind to her, a comfort to her after her own mother passed.
Now Alicent is a mother herself, at the hands and will of the dead queen’s husband. Alicent soothes her hands over her belly, kneading the skin through the velvet of her dress. This pregnancy has not been kind to her, the babe in her belly restless. She is due within the moon's turn, if the maesters predictions are to be believed.
Queen Aemma was more often than not confined to her chambers during her last months of pregnancy. Alicent is not offered such a pleasure – her husband intent on showing off his wife and their health prince as much as he can. Alicent wonders how long it will last.
“That was never my intention,” Alicent says.
“And what was your intention, exactly? Because if you truly did not want to marry my father, you would’ve told me. I am not only the princess, I was your friend. I would’ve helped you.”
“Your father was set in his intention.”
“That was your father, Alicent, not mine,” Rhaenyra shouts. “If you cannot see how he’s manipulated you for his own game, you are a fool. Tell me, honestly, has he spoken of replacing me with your son – a proper male heir?”
“The only heir is you, Rhaenyra.”
“Has he?” Rhaenyra asks.
“Rhaenyra…” Alicent says. She feels a sharp pain in her gut.
“I am my fathers chosen heir. To plot to replace me is treason,” Rhaenyra explains. “Tell me.”
“Rhaenyra.”
“Tell me, Your Grace!”
“Rhaenyra…” Alicent begs. She keels over suddenly and barely stops herself from falling to her knees. “Rhaenyra.
“Alicent?” The princesses voice is laced with worry.
“Help.”
That is all it takes before Rhaenyra is rushing to her side, offering her an arm as a scream escapes from Alicent’s throat. She feels something wet on her inner thigh.
“What is wrong?”
Alicent leans the short distance down so she can take her skirts in her hands and gather them high enough to slide a hand to her sex. When she pulls it out, it is as red as her dress, fingers coated in blood.
“Alicent?” Rhaenyra asks, unsure of herself.
“The baby,” Alicent says. “It's coming.”
Another one of Alicent’s screams breaks through the walls as Rhaenyra paces back and forth in front of the Queen’s chambers. She is not alone in the crowd gathered around, Lords and Ladies both lying in wait for the king’s new child to come.
Rhaenyra’s father, however, is nowhere to be seen. He’s surely been informed that his wife has gone into early labor. Rhaenyra’s mother only ever carried two babies to term, both dying shortly after they were born, but she remembers how weak she was after the first.
After Aegon was born, she did not see Alicent for over a fortnight, the young queen having been confined to her chambers. Many times did Rhaenyra stand outside these doors during that time, wanting to see Alicent and be sure she was well. She ended up asking the wet nurses instead.
“Princess?”
Rhaenyra stops her pacing at her title, turning to face the wet nurse addressing her.
“The Queen has asked for you.”
“Rhaenyra!”
Alicent’s scream is begging and desperate. It draws the attention of the courtiers gathered around.
Rhaenyra nods and the young woman ushers her through the doors. The last time she was inside these chambers, her mothers butchered dead body was laid on the bed, surrounded by her own blood, spilt at the hands of her dear husband.
Alicent looks so small on her mother’s bed, her pregnant belly eclipsing her slight and otherwise slim form. The wet nurses have changed her from her red velvet dress to a thinner, white shift – though that is soaked through with sweat.
The young Queen lets out another shriek and before it has ended, Rhaenyra is at her side, prying her fingers from the bedsheets and holding her hands in hers.
“Rhaenyra,” Alicent sighs in relief, though it is short lived, as she squeezes Rhaenyra’s hand tightly when another contraction racks through her.
The wet nurses and Grand Maester patter around the chambers, preparing it for the baby's arrival and sparing no attention for the Queen.
“Are you not going to help her?” Rhaenyra shouts, rubbing her thumb over Alicent’s knuckles.
“It is not time yet, Princess,” Grand Maester Mellos says.
Why Rhaenyra’s father has kept him as grand maester confuses her – he killed the last queen after all.
“It is time,” Alicent grits out. Through her next contraction, she only groans in agony.
Mellos meanders his way to Alicent before kneeling down and lifting her shift, and Alicent jumps at his touch.
“It is time,” Rhaenyra repeats for the Queen. The blood of the dragon boils hotly in her veins. She softens her gaze and looks to Alicent for assurance, who nods in response.
“Very well,” Mellos concedes. He gestures for the wet nurses to help with the birth.
Rhaenyra brings Alicent’s hand up to her lips and presses a firm kiss on her knuckles.
“You are here,” Alicent says.
“I am here,” Rhaenyra replies. “I’m not going anywhere. I swear it, on the Old Gods and the New.”
“Rhaenyra, don’t,” Alicent begins.
“I am the fool,” Rhaenyra says. “As a princess, I am granted freedoms others are not, and I did not think of the position you had been put in. They did not care what you wanted, and if you tell me honestly what it is you want, I will do my best to grant your wish.
Alicent looks up at her with wide eyes, filled with tears.
“Tell me.” The words are far softer now, a question and not a command.
“I want you,” Alicent whispers.
“You have me,” Rhaenyra says. “Hen bisa tubis vapār ñuha tubissa mōris.”
They are wedding vows, but Alicent does not understand them. She hardly has time to process the High Valyrian before another contraction wracks through her body. She keeps her eyes on Rhaenyra.
“I am here,” Rhaenyra repeats. She stops herself from kissing Alicent, the thought too confusing and the location too public for her to truly act. She must cater to Alicent’s needs now, as she brings forth new life.
Alicent’s hand is held steadfastly in hers as the Grand Maester tells the queen to push.
It is a girl. She is plump with strong lungs, despite being born a sennight early.
“Helaena,” Alicent says, holding her daughter in her arms, swaddled in a soft blue blanket.
“What?” Rhaenyra asks softly, so as not to startle the infant.
“Her name shall be Helaena.” Alicent coos at Helaena, who looks up at her mother with wide brown eyes.
“She has your eyes,” Rhaenyra points out.
“She does,” Alicent agrees.
“I have a sister,” Rhaenyra says in awe, reaching a finger out towards Helaena, who wraps her small hand around it.
“Half-sister,” Alicent corrects.
“Sister,” Rhaenyra says firmly. “ Nuha mandia. ”
“What is daughter in High Valyrian?” Alicent asks.
“ Tala ,” Rhaenyra responds, transfixed by the small bundle in Alicent’s arms.
“ Tala ,” Alicent repeats.
The wet nurses had left the princess and the Queen alone with the new babe after ensuring all was well with the newborn, casting the chamber into a comfortable silence with only Rhaenyra and Alicent speaking to each other softly.
That silence is disturbed by the chamber door opening and the entrance of Rhaenyra’s father.
“What is it?” Viserys asks, not unkindly, but his voice is far louder than Rhaenyra and Alicent have been speaking.
The loud noise startles sweet Helaena, who begins wailing in her mothers arms. Alicent bounces her as she is able, trying to calm her crying babe.
“Quiet, Father,” Rhaenyra says. She stands from her seat at Alicent’ side and walks to her father.
“What is it?” Viserys whispers this time.
“A girl, Father,” Rhaenyra informs him. “Alicent has named her Helaena.”
“Helaena?” Viserys questions.
“A good name, is it not?”
He looks at his wife, a girl of only seven and ten, their second child in her arms.
“I suppose it is.”
“My King?” Alicent calls softly from her place in the bed. She is still bouncing Helaena, but the little princess has seemed to have quieted down. “Would you like to meet her?”
Viserys looks from Alicent to his daughter, who stands dutifully in place, watching her father’s facial expression.
“When you can part with her, wife,” Viserys says.
“Yes, husband,” Alicent responds, something akin to disappointment in her voice, though she tries to hide it.
Rhaenyra watches her father leave the chambers as quickly as he entered them, the door closing behind him, leaving Alicent and Rhaenyra alone once again.
Rhaenyra finds Alicent in the Godswood. The Queen has been busy this past fortnight with her new babe, and while Rhaenyra has paid both her and the little princess many visits, she’s been unable to truly get Alicent alone.
She went to the Queen’s chambers with the intention to see Alicent, but they were empty and unusually quiet. The serving girls told her the Queen had left to take in some fresh air in the godswood.
Alicent is splayed out beneath the weirwood tree, laid on a blanket. Her eyes are closed and her hands settled on her stomach, now considerably smaller since the birth. She is dressed in a simple light blue gown.
Rhaenyra doesn’t want to disturb her. She looks so peaceful, no doubt appreciating the silence after days of newborn cries.
“Alicent?” Rhaenyra asks, approaching the young Queen slowly. She stops a few steps from her.
Alicent’s eyes flutter open and her head turns slightly so she can see Rhaenyra. A soft smile stretches across her lips.
“Rhaenyra.”
“May I join you?” Rhaenyra twists the rings on her fingers unconsciously.
“Please do.” Alicent goes to push herself to a seated position but Rhaenyra stops her.
Rhaenyra takes a seat by Alicent’s head and gently maneuvers Alicent so her head is rested in Rhaenyra’s lap. She can’t help but brush a hand through the soft auburn curls that frame Alicent's face.
Alicent closes her eyes contently.
It is a mirror memory, with their places reversed, the final day before the world began to collapse around them.
“I am sorry,” Alicent says in a whisper.
Rhaenyra arches a brow at the girl below her.
“I should’ve told you,” Alicent continues. “It was wrong of me to not.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Rhaenyra says. “We cannot change it.”
“I still should’ve told you,” Alicent insists. “It would have saved us so much pain.”
“It does not matter now,” Rhaenyra repeats. She shifts in her spot, making Alicent raise her head, and she cannot stop the Queen when she decides to sit up fully.
“It does matter,” Alicent tells her. Her eyes are blown wide, pleading with Rhaenyra to listen to her. “ It does .”
Rhaenyra reaches out and takes Alicent’s face in her hands, forcing their eyes to meet.
“Rhaenyra,” Alicent breathes out.
“The fault is none of yours,” Rhaenyra says.
“Rhaenyra, you cannot–,” Alicent begins, a small smile in her voice. She is unable to finish her sentence.
Alicent’s lips are as soft against hers as they were those many years ago, when they were just maidens, sitting beneath the godswood as they are now. Back then, it was Alicent who kissed Rhaenyra, a childish flight of fantasy that got them in trouble with Lady Alerie.
There is no one to see them now, and Alicent presses back with a desperate want Rhaenyra didn’t know she possessed. It pains Rhaenyra to pull away from her.
“Rhaenyra,” Alicent says again, breathless.
“I am the princess,” Rhaenyra says with a smile. “I can do as I wish.”
“Yes, you may,” Alicent replies, smiling back. Their next kiss is even sweeter.