Work Text:
“Do you have any idea how reckless that was?” Rhaenyra hissed. “You could have been captured. Or worse, killed.”
“I know the city better than anyone. My contacts knew of my movements and bid me passage where necessary. It was no less dangerous than you flying off on Syrax to meet an unknown dragon rider who had claimed Seasmoke, your grace.” Mysaria tried not to roll her eyes.
“I am unharmed. And what’s more, I obtained the information I sought out.”
“That is beside the point, and you know it.” Rhaenyra groaned as her head fell into her hands. “What would you have me do had you been taken captive, hmm? Allow the Greens to torture you? To feed you to Vhagar? To parade you in the streets in chains? Or remove your head? This is not some game where you may put your life at stake for meager whispers.”
“Is that not why you accepted me into your court? To collect meager whispers and ghosts of movements before they are put into place. You know better than most what it is to be confined and restrained. Why wish the same upon another who is fighting for your cause? None of your other councilmembers appear so eager. To the Crown, the life of a lowly servant is miniscule in comparison to advancing your claim. There was no chance of betrayal had the Greens found me, if that was your greatest concern.” Mysaria retorted.
Rhaenyra reared back almost as if she had been struck. “That is what you believe has plagued me?” Scoffing in disbelief, Rhaenyra rose from where she had been sitting and stalked towards Mysaria with her fists clenched at her sides, appearing more dragon-like than human. “For one so versed in the readings of her surroundings, you are so blithely unaware of what goes on in this very castle. In this very room. You are sorely mistaken of your place and your worth here. You insult my honor by insinuating that your betrayal of my secrets would even matter to me had you been captured.”
Dumbfounded, Mysaria could only open and close her mouth in response.
Rhaenyra looked her up and down with a look of disdain on her face. “Get out.”
Frozen in place, Mysaria made no move to exit the library.
Narrowing her eyes to mere slits, Rhaenyra spoke again. “If you wish to be treated as a lowly servant, you must obey when you are commanded by your queen. Leave.”
Rhaenyra returned to her seat behind the desk and continued her studying of the tomes and scrolls. No longer acknowledging the other presence in the room.
Having found the will to move, Mysaria quickly turned and exited the library.
Mysaria prided herself on her ability to always be one step ahead. To be the smartest one in the room. No surprises. How had she missed this? Yes, she had warmed the queen’s bed, supped with her almost nightly, and was sought out by her before any other members of her court. Surely it had all been because the queen has been lonely in Daemon’s absence. Or so Mysaria had thought.
Mysaria had snuck into Kings Landing to confirm the movements of Ser Criston as well as the true health of the usurper and his dragon. Unable to obtain these answers from her connections, it left her with little choice but to make the journey herself. She did not believe she needed permission to do only what was expected of her: stop the plans of the Greens before they could be set in motion.
She had only been gone a few days. Upon her return to Dragonstone, she was immediately summoned to the library by the queen where their conversation quickly turned sour.
Frustrated, sleep was seemingly far away. Sighing, Rhaenyra removed the covers, slipped into a thick robe, and made her way towards her chamber door. As she exited, she silently regarded Ser Lorent and began walking through the castle. Unsure of where her feet were taking her, Rhaenyra walked until she found herself approaching the battlements where a lone figure was enveloped in the moonlight.
Rhaenyra hesitantly approached the figure. Not stopping until she was at her side, leaning against the wall. They both stared quietly out at the bay. Unable to take the silence, Rhaenyra softly uttered one word with such reverence, “Mysaria.”
Mysaria shifted in her stance to face Rhaenyra then. Lightly leaning against the wall. Waiting for Rhaenyra to speak, Mysaria took in the disheveled queen in front of her. Her eyes were tired. As though she had not slept in ages. Her eyebrows pinched in the middle. A frown gracing its way across her full lips.
“Mysaria.” She tried again. “Sleep has eluded me this night.” Rubbing her hands up and down her thighs, Rhaenyra continued. “How we left things in the library. Knowing you are here in the castle but not at my side.” Mysaria could only take in the strained voice and anxious movements in front of her. Unable to speak yet again.
War. That is what Mysaria saw swimming in the depths of those lilac pools across from her. Inner turmoil seesawing back and forth, unsure of where to land.
Rhaenyra squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, all signs of strife had been washed away. An almost frantic-like determination now stood in their place.
“I have not slept these last few nights. I worried for your safety. Had you not returned this morning I fear what I may have done. Corlys had already had to dissuade me from flying to Kings Landing to find you the morning after you left.” Looking down at her hands and fidgeting with her ring, Rhaenyra sighed.
“Mysaria. Not once did I fear your betrayal.” Taking a deep breath, Rhaenyra looked up and met Myrsaria’s guarded eyes. “I could not bear the thought of.” Rhaenyra paused, looking up at the sky. Seemingly trying to summon the words from the stars. “I could not bear the thought of you not returning. Not being here. With me.”
Mysaria inhaled sharply. Unsure that she truly heard what Rhaenyra had said and had not been making it up in her head.
Unaware of Mysaria’s musings, Rhaenyra continued as though inspiration had struck.
“You have been invaluable to my cause. Doing more than those who have sat at my council since my father’s death. All our victories have been orchestrated by your hands. Masterfully and beautifully crafted. Yet none of that would matter had you not returned. I know I am the Crown. The rightful heir. That the war we are fighting is much greater than my birthright.”
“And here I am, ready to throw all caution to the wind because I am unable to fathom any victory without you by my side. It would not then truly be a victory.”
“I was ready to burn the Red Keep to the ground. To storm the castle myself until I found you.”
“You have been my undoing, Mysaria. I do not wish to ever command you, but I will if it comes to your safety. You are not just my Mistress of Whispers, a member of my council, or a warm body in these cold nights. Whether by design or by the hands of the Gods, you have captured my heart, and I do not wish to lose you. At any cost.”
Nothing but vulnerability and unabashed yearning shone through Rhaenyra’s eyes as she gazed at Mysaria. Wide open. As if Mysaria was peering into the soul of her dragon queen.
Mysaria so desperately wanted to return the sentiment. To tell Rhaenyra how she has never held another in such regard. How she thought herself incapable of caring for another past transactional benefits. Akin to her first flight with the queen on Syrax, Mysaria’s stomach flutters and does somersaults when she is near Rhaenyra. How does one convey these feelings that burn with such intensity when they have never been felt before?
Exhaling shakily, Mysaria spoke softly.
“Forgive me.” She breathed. “I have hoards of knowledge when it comes to the desires of others. Desires for sex, a comforting touch, information, and the like. Loyalty has never been a coin I traded in.”
“Never have I been desired in the way you speak of. It is as foreign to me as I am to the men on your council. Just as foreign, are the feelings you have invoked in me.”
Looking towards the bay, Mysaria sighed. “In truth, Rhaenyra, I do not know the extent of these emotions, only that they now guide my every move. Going to Kings Landing, risking capture, as you say. Capture or death do not scare me, Rhaenyra.”
Mysaria suddenly turned towards Rhaenyra. “Losing you, in any capacity, is what scares me. To Daemon, to the Greens, or to the expectations of your council and the Realm.”
“You have somehow broken down every wall, every protection, that this world has forced upon me. I fear what the consequences of that will be, should you be lost to this war.” Mysaria paused, “I do not wish to see a world without you in it.”
Moving closer, Rhaenyra slowly grabbed Mysaria’s hand.
“You will only ever lose me in death. There is nothing Daemon, my council, or the Realm could do. If they should try, they must answer to Syrax.”
Mysaria’s face softened. A lopsided smile graced her lips. Rhaenyra had never seen this look in her eyes before. One of utter reverence and love. As if the final barricades protecting Mysaria’s heart had burst open.
Unable to take the space between them, Rhaenyra quickly closed the distance. Gently cupping Mysaria’s cheek with her left hand and holding by her waist with her right hand, Rhaenyra slowly brought their lips together in a passionate embrace.
They have shared many kisses, but none had ever compared to this one. They were women starved. Only to be sated by the other’s lips and the air between them.
Breaking for air, Rhaenyra whispered against Mysaria’s lips. “I love you, Mysaria.”
Unable to keep the grin from her lips, Mysaria responded in kind. “I love you too, my queen.”