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Chapter Text

One, two, three… 

They all looked the same. An entire shelf full of wool and every single one was the exact same color. Alicent didn’t know how many people would actually want to buy a nondescript gray sweater, but she was certain that it wouldn’t be this many. Plus, they only had three sizes. She had long since advocated for larger sizing options, but no one deemed it necessary to…

Crap. Where was she again?

Taking a deep breath, she resigned herself to starting over, eyes scanning the carefully stacked sweaters. 

One, two… 

And, all of a sudden, it wasn’t dull gray that her gaze fell on, but deep, warm purple. It was so eye-catching in a field of dreariness, so bright that she couldn’t look away. She was so distracted by the color that it took her a full ten seconds to realize that she was looking into eyes instead of wool. 

A shriek left her mouth before she could think twice. 

Quiet snickering followed. 

Of course. Alicent glared between the shelves. “I’m trying to work here.”

“Yeah, well,” a voice piped up. “Work is overrated.”

Alicent watched as a girl stepped around the shelf, silver hair tied back in an elaborate braid, snowy cashmere rising and falling with an exaggerated huff. Diamond studded earrings decorated her lobes, glittering in the stark lighting. It didn’t take a genius to know that this girl had absolutely no business being in a mass market retail store.

But here she was. Every godsdamn day, and Alicent couldn’t make sense of why the gods had cursed her so. 

She turned her back on the growing smirk on Valyrian features. “Not everyone gets life handed to them on a silver platter.”

“But you’re working . In a mall . That’s just sad, Alicent.”

She tried to make a show of ignoring the other girl, burying her face back into the stack of sweaters once more. “If you hate it so much, feel free to leave.”

“Oh, come on, Ali. You don’t actually want me to leave.”

Alicent busied herself with refolding one of the sweaters on top. It had wrinkles in it , she told herself. It didn’t. 

“Yes, I do.” 

She did.

“No, you don’t.” 

No, no, she didn’t. 

Godsdammit. In her defense, restocking was incredibly mind-numbing. 

“Criston is going to be pissed.” 

She could almost hear the grin in the silver-haired girl’s voice as she plopped down onto a clothing arrangement nearby. “Criston can fuck off.”

——

[Two months ago]

When most girls in King’s Landing turned sixteen, they got a new car. When Alicent turned sixteen, she got a hand-me-down Honda Civic that was three oil changes away from the junkyard and a job. Only one of which she was grateful for. 

“But why ?”

Thick, bushy eyebrows furrowed, wrinkling her father’s forehead in a way that was almost never directed towards her. It almost had her backtracking. Almost. “Excuse me, young lady?”

“Gwayne doesn’t have a job,” Alicent pointed out, gesturing lamely towards the couch. Her brother didn’t bother to look away from the TV or wipe the Cheeto dust from his fingers before flipping her off.

“Gwayne’s job is football,” her father repeated for not the second, but third time that day. “You, on the other hand, do nothing. You are sixteen years old. You have a car. It’s about time you start paying your way around here.”

Football. It was always about football. Are you going to Gwayne’s football game? Did you hear that King’s Landing beat Storm’s End by a field goal? A scout went to Gwayne’s game last week— 

Alicent didn’t care about sports, not even a little bit, not even when Otto Hightower realized that she was tall for her age and stuck her in a church basketball league. Even at seven years old, running was more of a punishment than a joy. It only took a few games of fumbling the ball and shielding her face instead of catching passes that her father quickly realized that she was a lost cause. Even now, being dragged to Gwayne’s games was one of her least favorite pastimes. Brass instruments rang through her head like a gong — gods, they desperately needed tuning— and everyone yelled far too loud. 

The accusation that she did nothing was a bit dramatic, but straight A’s were nothing impressive in their family. Her eldest brother Ormund was at the University of Oldtown with a full-ride scholarship for pre-med. Gwayne didn’t have the best grades, but he didn’t need them. It was no secret that he was a shoe-in for a football scholarship. Alicent on the other hand? She had no clubs, no extracurriculars. No, she spent her freetime locked in her room, listening to the Vitamin String Quartet or Holst's the Planets, sketching the ‘view’ outside her window in her notepad. And, apparently, that was unacceptable. Drawing doesn’t get you scholarships. 

“But—“

“Alicent Alyrie Hightower.”

And, well, that was that. One week later, Alicent was standing behind the counter at the GAP in the Red Keep Mall, watching her new manager extract change from the cash register. 

“And there’s 27 cents,” Criston narrated, dropping silver and copper coins into a wrinkled, outstretched palm. A smile remained plastered on his cheeks as the elderly woman turned to leave, only dropping into an irritated scowl when she crossed the threshold of the entrance. “Who the hell still pays in cash?”

Alicent had learned about 25 minutes into her first shift that about 95% of Criston’s comments were rhetorical. Her shoulders lifted in a halfhearted shrug in substitute of words. 

Apparently, this one wasn’t. Criston seemed aggravated by her lack of response, letting out a grumbled sigh before pushing past her shoulder. “Whatever. I’m taking my break. You got it from here?”

Panic flared as Alicent’s eyes opened so widely that they could feel the AC blasting overhead. It was her first day. She had just learned how to open the cash register, for godssake. What if someone came in? What if they needed help? What if they asked for something in the back and Alicent got lost in the back room again, or they ended up stealing something while she was gone and—

“Wait—“

This one was rhetorical. Criston was already wandering towards the food court. 

Alicent groaned. This was going to be a long Saturday. 

——

Alicent was losing her mind.

Fifteen minutes later, and Criston was still nowhere in sight. She spent the first five minutes he was gone standing stiffly behind the register, praying that no one would walk in while he was gone. Unfortunately, five minutes was enough time for her anxiety to kick in full force because if I get fired on my first day, my dad is going to kill me, so for the next ten, she paced a hole in the wood floor. Well, not quite, but she was pretty sure there was a scuff mark or two from her shoes. After a while, she felt bad about that, too, though, so she settled on sitting on the low shelves behind the register, shifting through the recent returns in a poor attempt to be useful. 

And that was exactly where she was when she got her first ever customer… Sort of. 

“Hi.”

Alicent lifted her head instinctively at the sound, only to have her jaw immediately drop back towards the floor a moment later because oh my fucking gods . Leaning with both elbows on the counter was a girl. A girl with long white-blonde hair flowing down her shoulders, resting gently on a pristine golden tank top. Both the metallic top and her hair glinted in her harsh industrial lighting, instantly making her stand out among the plain white walls. There was an air of confidence about her, shown in the strong set of her shoulders and the playful grin playing at glossed lips.

She attempted to form words with her mouth, but it took a few tries for anything to come out. Mirth danced in lavender eyes the entire time. “Oh, um, hi.”

“So,” the girl began, tilting forward, resting more of her weight on the counter. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

Alicent’s already frazzled nerves spiked at the proximity, driving her to lean back just a hair to remember how to breathe again. “I’m, uh, new.”

“Hi ‘Uh new’. I’m Rhaenyra,” the girl shot back immediately, her mouth turning upwards impossibly wider. 

Rhaenyra. It was fitting, Alicent thought as she watched her silver hair sway, brushing against tan forearms. It was a pretty name. Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty–  

“So, ‘Uh new’, huh?” The girl hummed, chin finding a home propped up against her fist as if she belonged there. It was then Alicent realized that, not only had she been staring instead of responding, but she had been so preoccupied with it that she hadn't even bothered to correct the blonde.

“No, wait,” Alicent tried to correct her. “That’s–that’s not–”

Her tongue betrayed her, though. It felt heavy in her mouth. It felt like a gargantuan effort to produce sounds, and her words failed her.

That glossed smile turned lopsided, practically sparkling in delight. “Your name?”

Her head nodded in affirmation, and the blonde giggled. Like, honest to god, giggled . Oh my gods.

“Alicent,” she finally managed after way too long. “I’m Alicent.”

“Alicent,” the girl – Rhaenyra, she remembered – murmured, as if she was testing out the word on her tongue. “Nice to meet you.”

Was Rhaenyra making fun of her? Alicent couldn’t tell. Doubt started to creep in, and her face heated up as she forced her lips into a polite smile. Bottom lip quivering ever so slightly, she echoed the sentiment, “Nice to meet you.”

Mahogany eyes locked on lavender, assessing. Neither of them moved an inch for what felt like ages. Finally, Rhaenyra lifted her chin and drawled, “So, are you going to sell me something, or not?”

Alicent let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding as she eyed the girl’s golden top. It was a simple cut with thin straps, but the material gleaned elegantly in the lighting. It was silk. And not faux silk like the dress her father had bought her for Easter last year, but real, expensive silk. It wrapped around the girl’s middle like a glove, paired with a sizable, vintage gold locket. She hadn’t thought anything of the necklace at first; she had seen $12 lockets at cheap jewelry stores. The more she observed the delicate floral engraving, though, the more she was convinced that the necklace alone could fund her first year of college.

They were surrounded by a sea of mono-colored polyester and cotton. Rhaenyra had most likely never shopped here in her life, she realized. The notion that this was all some cruel prank grew more solid every moment. Alicent herself was wearing straight leg jeans and a plain white blouse that she’d cycled through since middle school. Suddenly, the amused smile on glossed lips seemed to be mocking her. 

“Are you going to buy anything?” The words came out more bluntly than she intended them to. 

Rhaenyra grinned wickedly. “Maybe.”

A wave of emotion hit her full in the face. Yeah, this girl was definitely making fun of her. And it bothered her way more than it should. “Maybe?”

“I dunno,” the blonde shrugged carelessly. “What would you do if I did?”

What was that supposed to mean? Alicent frowned, gesturing towards the cash register. “Um, check you out.”

That teasing smile folded into a pout. “So you’re not already?”

“What?” Alicent balked, eyebrows furrowing. “Of course not. You haven’t bought anything.”

The girl’s head cocked to the side, eyelashes fluttering as lavendar eyes observed her somewhat curiously. Something bubbled in her stomach; the same feeling she got when the popular girls laughed nearby in school. Like there was a joke she was missing out on, and it was about her. 

She opened her mouth once more to question what the girl meant, but she never got the chance. 

“You!”

The oppressive staredown aimed her way suddenly ended as both of their heads snapped toward the entrance in time to see Criston stomping their way.

Rhaenyra didn’t so much as remove her elbows from the polished stone. An exasperated sigh escaped her lungs, as if his sudden presence was an incredible inconvenience. “Criston. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Out!” The Dornish man demanded, pointing back the way he came. “Get out.”

A light eyebrow arched. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“You’re lucky I don’t ban you from this store,” Criston huffed, shooting the blonde a glare that, if it was aimed at her, would have Alicent quitting on the spot. 

“ You can’t ban me from anything,” Rhaenyra scoffed. “Not if you want to keep your job.”

There was a vein on her manager’s head that protruded further and further by the second. Alicent didn’t even know that was possible for someone in their twenties. “ Out , Targaryen.”

Rhaenyra let out a loud, childish groan before pulling away from the counter. Ringed fingers parted white-blonde strands as the girl made a show of fixing her hair. “Whatever.”

Alicent watched as the blonde pushed past Criston, making a point to harshly bump into his shoulder on the way out, extracting a low grumble from the man. When she reached the door, she paused, glancing over her shoulder just enough to look Alicent straight in the eye. “See you around, Ali?”

Her cheeks blazed a dark shade of crimson. She could feel Criston’s glare shifting her way. Still, she managed a small nod. “Oh. Uh, yeah. See you later.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving only a sweet, rich scent in the air – was that vanilla? It took her a few moments to realize that, not only did Rhaenyra’s perfume linger, but so did the irritated scowl on her manager’s face. 

Alicent shrunk back slightly. “What?”

“Is she your friend?” Criston asked roughly.

It felt like an interrogation. Alicent quickly tried to cover her tracks. “No! I’ve never seen her before.”

Dark brown eyes stared her down for a full thirty seconds before a family wandered through the door, effectively rescuing her. Alicent remained stiffly behind the counter as Criston’s customer service face returned in full force.

“Hi, welcome in!”

Two hours into her first shift, and this was already the longest day of her life.

——

The sun had been down for an hour or so by the time she finally got home. The doorway to the living room exposed only shadows. She could hear muffled conversations from a television coming from somewhere past the darkness. Her father was probably already shut in his room for the night.

After swiftly locking the door behind her, she shuffled down the hallway, her legs heavy and aching from standing up all day. The rest of her shift was… fine. Boring, even. More and more customers trickled in as the day went on, and her confidence grew with each one. She got the cash register down and had even mastered Criston’s surprisingly strict clothes folding technique. Still, it wasn’t exactly how she wanted to be spending a Saturday afternoon.

The door to Gwayne’s room was open, drawing her attention as she walked past. To her great misfortune, her brother glanced up from his Call of Duty game at the same moment, their eyes meeting.

Shit. There was nothing she wanted less than to be grilled by Gwayne right now.

Alicent quickly turned to leave, but her brother’s gruff voice called out behind her. “Dude, you look terrible.”

“Wow,” Alicent commented, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Thanks, Gwayne. That’s so kind of you.”

While typically nothing on the gods green earth could tear Gwayne away from a gaming session, apparently he was so focused on irritating her that he set his godsdamn controller down. “Did they make you clean the entire fucking store or something?”

She did not have the energy for this. “Goodnight, Gwayne.”

“I’m just saying–”

“ Goodnight .”

——

Since it was just her first week, she was only scheduled a couple of days, so the next time Alicent found herself at the Red Keep Mall was four days later. Unfortunately, it was another 12 hour shift. And what was worse: she had forgotten to set an alarm that morning. So, when her eyes blinked open to squint at her alarm clock, blurry red numbers glared back at her: 8:30am. Her shift started at 9.

That was probably the fastest Alicent had ever gotten ready. It did, however, mean that she had to cut some things out of her morning routine, which is why her red curls were haphazardly flying in every direction.

It was also why her stomach started growling by 10:30. She had never been a huge breakfast person, but she typically ate something small like a banana or a granola bar. She hadn’t thought that skipping breakfast would be a big deal, but her body clearly thought otherwise. 

Criston had put up with the low grumbling for a full 10 minutes before deciding he had enough. She was halfway through restocking the bathing suit racks when he stopped a few feet away. “Go.”

“What?” Alicent questioned, cut off guard by the sudden intrusion. 

“You’re obviously starving. Just go take your break,” the dark-haired man insisted flatly, already reaching down to take the hanger in her hands. “I’ll finish up here.”

It was a tempting offer; she was hungry. However, there was only like $10 in her bank account, and she wasn’t sure that you could buy a full meal in the mall food court with that. “Are you sure? Because I can–”

“Alicent,” Criston interrupted with a pointed look. “It’s fine.”

She hesitated for another moment. Originally, the plan was to eat a small breakfast and then have something when she got home, but now… Well, she would be home for another 10 hours at least. It would probably be hard to make it through an entire shift without eating anything. Maybe she could find a snack? Surely, there had to be something under $10.

Eventually, she nodded slowly, handing the hanger off to the shift manager. “Thank you.”

“You have twenty minutes,” Criston offered instead of acknowledging her gratitude. 

——

Well. It looked like she was probably going to eat a large order of fries for lunch. 

After thoroughly scanning the menu of every restaurant in the food court, Alicent had found that she was right: there didn’t seem to be a way that she could get a full meal for under $10. Not including tax, anyway. There was a Mediterranean bowl place that gave off a smell so aromatic that it had her mouth watering, but it was just over her budget. So, french fries would have to do.

Begrudgingly, she claimed a spot in line for at the hamburger joint, clutching her wallet to her chest as she observed the line. There were only two couples in front of her, so hopefully she would have time to eat before Criston began to regret letting her step away. 

“Alicent?”

Startled, she turned to her left to see– oh. Rhaenyra stood a few feet away, clad in a powder blue button up and jean shorts. Typically, Alicent would have thought it odd to wear a long sleeve shirt in the summer, but her sleeve were rolled up to her elbows, and the first few buttons of her shirt were open, exposing the same golden locket resting against her chest and prominent collar bones–

It wasn’t until a smirk began to slip onto Valyrian features that Alicent realized that she hadn’t responded yet. “Oh. Hey.”

“Are you working today?” The blonde asked, shifting the cross her arms as she spoke. 

Alicent didn’t quite know what to make of that. Rhaenyra couldn’t possibly care about something as trivial about whether or not she had a shift today. Was she just making fun of her again? She obviously had money; maybe she looked down on people who worked minimum wage jobs. That could explain why Criston seemed to hate her so much, maybe Rhaenyra had made fun of him at some point, too. 

Regardless of why the blonde approached her, she couldn’t just ignore her. It was probably best to keep her response short. The girls at school always got bored when she didn’t react like they wanted her to. “Yeah. I am.”

Rhaenyra nodded slowly in acknowledgement. “So… do you work every Saturday and Wednesday?”

Alicent shrugged. “I don’t know yet. My schedule will probably change.”

“Right,” the blonde replied, cocking her hip as she shifted her weight onto her right leg. “Makes sense.”

The air between them fell silent for a few moments. One of the couples in front of Alicent left with their order. She shifted her attention away from Rhaenyra as she stepped forward. If she was boring enough, the girl would just go away.

“So,” Rhaenyra's voice drifted towards her once more. “A burger at 11:00, huh?”

Apparently, being left alone to order her poor-excuse-for-a-brunch in peace was too much to ask for. Letting out a sigh, Alicent glanced at the blonde once more. Lavender eyes were giving her their full attention. The intensity of her stare unnerved her. “I haven’t gotten my first paycheck yet, and I don’t get my allowance until next week. It’s the cheapest thing here.”

“I can get you something.”

Alicent froze. What? That… was not what she was expecting. At all. Suddenly, breathing was much harder than it should’ve been. Why would Rhaenyra say something like that? Did money really mean so little to her that she would throw it around to pay for a weird retail worker’s lunch? Probably, Alicent realized, but she couldn’t accept that. It felt wrong. So much so that something fluttered in her stomach.

“Um, no. Thank you, but I can’t,” she tried to explain, but ended up stumbling over her words a bit. “I don’t… It’s just..”

Rhaenyra didn’t seem to be deterred by her refusal. Instead, her lips curved upwards into a smile that was… kind? “No worries. Mall employees get discounts at the food court, anyway.”

“Wait, really?” She questioned, eyeing the blonde curiously. She was acting…The girl she met the other day was borderline insufferable, but now she was nice? Besides, how did she even know that? “Do you work here?”

The other girl let out a sharp laugh, almost resembling a bark. That seemed a little bit more like the girl she met the other day. “Ha, no. I just hang out here a lot. My dad owns the mall.”

Alicent’s jaw unhinged itself slightly. She thought it was subtle, but, apparently it wasn’t, because Rhaenyra took one look at her face and giggled. Her mouth snapped closed immediately at the sound as pink dusted her cheeks. “Oh, wow. That’s… cool.”

The blonde grinned. “Yeah.”

Suddenly, it was Alicent’s turn to order. She hadn’t had time to make a decision, but the Mediterranean place was definitely calling her name. She made eye contact with the worker and offered him an apologetic smile before stepping out of line and beginning to wander towards the other side of the food court. 

“Are you going to eat here?” 

Alicent turned her head to see Rhaenyra following her, taking long strides to match her pace. Huh. Blinking slowly, she shrugged. “I don’t think so. Criston is expecting me back soon, so I’ll probably take it to go.”

“Makes sense,” the blonde commented, pausing as they found a place in the new line. Nodding over her shoulder, she continued. “Well, I was sitting with my friends over there. If you want to join.”

Brown eyes followed where the girl had motioned to see a group of teenagers gathered at a table near the center of the food court. There were four of them around their age, all looking straight at them. Oh, gods. All of Rhaenyra’s friends were not only gorgeous, but just as well dressed as she was. It didn’t take a genius to know that they were probably of a similar social class. 

Why were they looking at them like that? Probably wondering why Rhaenyra was giving her the time of day. Alicent shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling even further out of her realm than she did before. “Thanks, but I really should be getting back.”

Some of the lightness in the blonde girl’s expression dimmed slightly, but the smile never felt her face. “Yeah, of course. Next time?”

“Yes,” Alicent breathed, even though there was no world in which she saw herself sitting around Rhaenyra and her beautiful friends. “Next time.”

The other girl offered her a teasing salute before leaving to rejoin her friends, silky hair swishing side to side as she went. 

“Excuse me, miss? Are you ready to order?”

The sudden interruption caused her to flitch, whirling away from where her eyes were locked on the center of the room to meet the worker. “Oh, uh, yes. Sorry.”

——

[Present day]

“—and Laena was so mad. You should’ve seen her face…”

Alicent made a quiet ‘mmhmm’ in acknowledgement as she continued restocking the jeans shelves. It was by far her least favorite task. Criston would always throw a fit if they weren’t folded just right (the sizing sticker on the right leg always had to be face up), and, despite there being six or seven different styles, they all sort of looked the same. 

Holding two pairs up to the light, she attempted to decipher which one was bootcut. Bootcut and flare are basically the same thing, right? 

Suddenly, a hand shoved the denim towards the ground, causing her to jump in surprise. “Helloooo, Earth to Alicent. Are you listening to anything I’ve been saying?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m working?” Alicent huffed, tugging the two pairs of jeans out of the other girl’s grasp. “Go find someone else to yap to.”

Rhaenyra let out a loud gasp, slapping her hand to her heart as if she was taken aback. “Alicent Hightower! You don’t mean that.”

Over the past two months, she had come to the conclusion that most of what Rhaenyra said in a teasing tone wasn’t condescending. Alicent was fully convinced that the girl simply had nothing better to do than pester her. Well, that was her theory, anyway. It wasn’t clear to her why the blonde refused to let her be, but she had come to accept it. At this point, entertaining the landlord’s daughter was basically part of her job description. 

A small smile threatened to tug at the corners of her mouth with such a force that she had to bite her lip to hide it. “I do mean it.”

“Liar,” the blonde teased, ripping a t-shirt off a rack in order to utilize the hanger to point at her accusingly.

“Rhaenyra!” Alicent scolded, rising to her feet in a poor attempt to snatch the hanger from her. “Put that back.”

A pout formed on glossed lips as the other girl dropped the hanger with a groan. “I can’t believe you’re more concerned about a shirt than me.”

Retrieving the discarded article, Alicent quickly brushed the wrinkles out of the cotton before returning it to the rack. “You’re fine. You’re just dramatic.”

“Just say you hate me,” the blonde whined, flinging herself back onto the clothing arrangement behind them. Ugh, she had just finished folding those.  

“I hate you,” Alicent deadpanned, a scowl forming onto her face as she watched the other girl’s flailing mess up the pristinely stacked piles even further. 

The expression seemed to draw the blonde’s attention, though, because, as soon as her mouth twisted, she suddenly sat up straight, mirth dancing in lavender eyes once more. “Oh my gods. You look like Criston.”

A loud gasp tore from her throat. “Shut up . I do not.”

“You do,” Rhaenyra insisted, diamond earrings swaying as she gave an exaggerated bob of her head. “You totally do. Oh my gods, you’re spending too much time here. You’re going to be a little Criston.”

The audacity of this girl astounded her every single time.

“No, you’re spending too much time here,” Alicent shot back with a huff. “Criston will be back soon. You should go.”

While she expected Rhaenyra to put up more of a fight (she usually did), the blonde only sighed before rising to her feet once more. “Fine. Wouldn’t want the old man to tell me to get off his lawn for the third time this week.”

Alicent got to work cleaning up the mess the other girl made, turning her head away from the Targaryen so that she wouldn’t witness the smile finally breaking out on her face. “Bye, Rhaenyra.”

“Yeah, yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

When summer had finally ended, her schedule morphed into short closing shifts after school and entire Saturdays (and most Sundays) spent drowning in a sea of the endless sweaters corporate insisted they stock the shelves with. While part of her mourned the days of getting to rest outside of school, she quickly discovered that she didn’t mind the change. Quite the opposite actually, she found herself strangely content with it. 

Despite the occasional Karen and Criston’s consistent moodiness, there was something oddly freeing about life between those four walls. Alicent wasn’t too sure what it was. Maybe the confidence provided by being good at her job was nice. Maybe some healthy distance from her family was for the best. Or, maybe having someone go out of their way to just lay eyes on her every day was pleasant.

Who knew, really.

Regardless, despite initially being irritated with her father’s demand that she be employed, Alicent quickly accepted her new reality. It was… kind of nice? Well, mostly. There was only one thing that unnerved her about the whole situation: Rhaenyra was increasingly establishing herself as a thorn in Alicent’s side.

“I’d like to return this item.”

Alicent paused refilling the coins in the cash register to give the landlord’s daughter a puzzled look. “What?”

“Are you going deaf?” The blonde questioned as she waved the set of neutral colored quarter socks she’d pulled from her bag in Alicent’s face. “I said that I want to return this.”

She scoffed, eyeing the socks suspiciously. They looked exactly like a pair that came in a shipment a few weeks ago. “Did you steal those?”

Rhaenyra gasped, making a show of furrowing silver eyebrows. “A vile accusation. I would never do such a thing.”

For some reason, she seriously doubted that. “We both know you’ve never shopped here in your life. Where did you get those?”

“Alicent, darling,” Rhaenyra protested, swinging the socks in the air as she waved her hand. “I am a loyal customer of this… fine establishment. You think I would go to another store? That’s just slander. I would never cheat on you like that.”

Alicent pursed her lips together to keep from smiling. Giving in felt like a loss. Everything with Rhaenyra was a game, she had come to realize, so she opted for humming in acknowledgement in substitute of a response. 

Lavender eyes narrowed slightly. “You don’t believe me do you?”

Shaking her head, she let a small laugh escape. “Not one bit.”

“Unbelievable,” the blonde huffed, crossing her arms over her turquoise tweed blazer. “I give you all my time, money, and affection, and this is how you treat me? The betrayal is astounding, honestly.”

Her fingers shifted through the coins in her cash register nervously as pink dusted her cheeks. She managed another laugh, this one much more forced and a little bit timid, to keep the other girl from noticing her blush and to prevent any further teasing. “You don’t give me anything other than a headache. Where did you get these socks, Rhaenyra?”

A pout formed on Rhaenyra’s features, but she only shrugged lamely. When she didn’t offer any further explanation Alicent sighed, stretching her hand out over the counter palm up. The pout remained firmly in place as Rhaenyra dropped the bundle into her waiting hand. Turning the socks over, she scanned the barcode on the wrapping. An ID popped up on the screen with absolutely no indication that the item had ever been purchased. Alicent lifted her head to look at the blonde pointedly.

Rhaenyra motioned towards the computer. “So?”

“You’re a big fat liar, you know that right?”

A long sigh left the other girl’s mouth, as if Alicent was the one irritating her. “It was for the bit, Ali. I had every intention of returning it.”

Seven hells. Rhaenyra had long since established herself as a prankster but petty theft? That was new. And extremely unnecessary since Alicent was pretty sure she could buy out this whole store if she wanted to.

“I could call mall security right now,” she threatened with almost no venom in her tone. 

Rhaenyra grinned, placing both elbows on the counter. “Please do. It’s been far too long since I’ve paid Harrold a visit. He loves me, you know.”

The blonde had the audacity to laugh when she went back to sorting through the silver and copper coins in the cash register without another word, mumbling under her breath the whole time.

———

“Excuse me, miss. Do you have any fur coats in stock?” A faux nasally voice asked in her direction.

A deep sigh escaped her lungs before she even lifted her head. She didn’t need to. Only one person would walk into a GAP and ask for a fur coat. “No, Rhaenyra, we don’t sell fur coats.”

“Oh, my,” Rhaenyra gasped dramatically, putting a hand over her heart for emphasis. “No fur coats? How ever am I to survive the harsh Kings’ Landing winter without it?”

The daggers she shot the other girl’s way were as sharp as knives. “It’s only October, Rhaenyra.”

Unfortunately, the Targaryen was not the least bit fazed, even inching closer to where Alicent was dutifully redressing the mannequins to display their new fall line. 

“You dare mock a customer?” The blonde huffed in that high-pitch voice. “Such an attitude! Bring me your manager at once.”

Now that was enough to coax a scoff from Alicent’s lungs. “You don’t want that. Criston will lose his mind if you’re the reason he has to leave the break room early.”

“I’ll leave a Google review,” Rhaenyra announced, whipping out her phone from the depths of the gray and white Christian Dior tote thrown across her shoulders. Her fingers hastily tapped on the screen. “‘Never in my life have I experienced such horrid customer service…’”

Alicent decided that the best path forward was to do what she always did when Rhaenyra’s antics took a turn for the worst: she ignored it. Adjusting the corduroy jacket draped across the mannequin’s shoulders, she mumbled under her breath, “Maybe you should try literally anywhere else.”

While the blonde did not directly acknowledge her, the tapping against her phone screen intensified as she narrated, “‘Why do the ones with the prettiest brown eyes say the rudest things…’”

Her cheeks burned as a choking sound bubbled up from her throat. “Rhaenyra!”

The tapping paused, replaced by a loud snicker, which swiftly morphed into a gasp as Alicent leaned forward to snatch the other girl’s phone out of her hand. “Hey!”

“Cut it out!” Alicent demanded, determined to pry the object from the blonde’s fingers. 

Unfortunately, Rhaenyra did no such thing. Instead, she stuck her tongue out at Alicent and clutched the phone closer to her chest. When she opened her mouth, her tone remained high and whiny. “Fighting with a customer? The audacity! I must see your manager at once!”

That’s it. Alicent was going to quit. She was going to leave the mannequin half-dressed and go clear out her locker. If she was lucky, she would never have to see that stupid, perfect, irritating face ever again—

“Alicent!”

Her fingers went slack, arms falling back down to her sides immediately. Alicent suddenly wished the ground would swallow her whole. 

The break room door slammed shut with a loud thud that rang in her head like a gong. Criston was headed their way, and he did not look happy. In fact, Alicent was pretty sure she had never seen him this mad before, with his mouth twisting into a scowl and fury blazing in ebony eyes. 

Oh gods. She wasn’t going to quit; she was going to get fired. Her dad was going to kill her. No, worse: he was going to ground her. Gwayne would never let her hear the end of it. 

“Criston!” Rhaenyra greeted much more cheerfully than usual, an easy smile gracing her lips. “So nice of you to join us.”

“You, out,” the Dornish man said dismissively before turning to Alicent. His gaze felt like a thousand arrows pointed right at her heart. “And you.”

Her shoulders creeped towards her ears as his harsh tone, a vain attempt to shrink into herself as she awaited his judgment. 

Rhaenyra stepped forward slightly to regain his attention, the shoulder of her red boatneck top bumping Alicent’s gently. “We were playing around. It was nothing.”

“This isn’t a playground; it’s a business,” Criston snapped, shifting his line of sight to the blonde once more. Alicent let out a breath that she hadn’t known she’d been holding when his gaze left hers. 

“She was working!” Rhaenyra insisted, weight shifting onto her front foot so that half of Alicent’s vision was blocked by white blonde hair. She was shielding her, Alicent realized. Something twisted in her stomach at the thought. “It’s my fault. I distracted her.”

“You always distract her,” Criston grunted in displeasure. “Now, shoo. I have a business to run here.”

Typically, Alicent would’ve expected the Targaryen to snap at something as demeaning as ‘shoo’, but the other girl’s shoulders just tensed slightly. It was a surprisingly subtle reaction for the girl. Alicent knew her well enough at this point to know that she was probably fuming inside. Still, her response remained devoid of any emotion, “I was just leaving.”

The blonde adjusted the tote on her shoulder as she turned briskly towards the entrance. Lavender eyes briefly caught her gaze. They watched each other for a few moments before the other girl brushed past her. A quiet “bye, Ali” reached her ears as she passed. 

Alicent’s chest tightened as she tilted her chin to watch her go. She remained frozen like that until white blonde hair disappeared into a crowd of mall shoppers. When she finally turned back to finish up with the mannequin, she found Criston glaring at her with mild contempt. Shying away from his look of disdain, her hands found the nearest shelf and mechanically began to refold a long sleeve cotton shirt that already looked pristine. She didn’t relax until the sound of rubber squeaking against the tile coaxed a falsely charismatic “Welcome in!” from her manager’s mouth. 

Even though it was just a short evening shift after school, even though she only had two more hours until she was free, it felt like the longest two hours of her life.

———

“You’re late.”

Alicent winced at Criston’s very unimpressed tone as she threw her phone and wallet into one of the cubbies in the break room. “I know, know. I’m sorry. I was having car trouble.”

That was an understatement. When her twelve-year-old, well-driven Honda Civic decided to croak twenty minutes away from the mall, it had taken Gwayne an absurd amount of time to come pick her up. She had spent the remainder of the way to work fiddling with her nail beds in the passenger seat of her brother’s car and glancing at her watch every few seconds. Needless to say, she was stressed and anxious, and the pointed look on the shift manager’s face wasn’t doing the fidgeting of her fingers any favors. 

Judging by the irritated scowl on the Dornish man’s face, she braced herself for a scolding. Instead, he only huffed. “She’s here.”

Alicent cocked her head to the side as she positioned her name tag onto her shirt. “Who?”

“Her,” was the only explanation that Criston offered, his eyes darting towards the main floor with trepidation. 

It took her a moment to see past the still too-quick thumping of her pulse and catch on. Oh. Criston was easily irritable, but only one person got him this riled up so early on a Saturday morning. 

She wasn’t sure why Criston hated Rhaenyra so much. Well, to be fair, she wasn’t too fond of the blonde constantly pestering her every day like clockwork either, but she didn’t hate her. Hate was a strong word, but it definitely described the all-encompassing resentment that her manager held for the Targaryen. Maybe the unrelenting sass was a blow to his ego, or maybe there was something about a spoiled nepo baby that went against his morals. Alicent didn’t particularly care to know the answer, but the sheer awkwardness of getting caught in the middle of his disdain made her want to pick at her nails once more. 

“Why?” She questioned dumbly. It wasn’t like Rhaenyra to show up so early. She typically wandered in during the late morning or early afternoon, well-rested and prepared to cause chaos. 

Sharp brown eyes returned to her, glaring. “Why don’t you tell me? She only shows up when it’s your shift.”

Heat flushed her cheeks against her will, and she found herself ducking her head, averting her gaze away from the question in his. “I’ll take care of it.”

That seemed to please him enough because he looked considerably less annoyed at her meek promise, simply nodding curtly before disappearing into the back room. 

Seven hells. Forcing fresh air into her lungs, she attempted to steel herself to face bright lavender eyes and that stupid, smug grin that she couldn’t seem to shake. She hated confrontation. The gods knew that and continued to test her daily. She wasn’t sure which one of them she angered, but she needed to figure out how to make amends sooner rather than later. 

Finally, after a minute of positive self-talk and focused breathing, she wandered through the break room door. And, almost immediately, her eyes were drawn to silky silver amongst the sea of earthy tones that was their autumn collection. In her defense, it wasn’t exactly hard to find Rhaenyra with her head held high and relaxed posture, making evident that she had never known a day of self-consciousness in her life. Her presence was invasive, swallowing whole any half-hearted enthusiasm Alicent had for retail. She walked into the room like she owned it. And, she did, Alicent supposed, or, at least, her dad did. Regardless, it was a constant and unwanted distraction.

It was probably best to get this over with. “Rhaenyra.”

In a flash of white-blonde, warm purple eyes met hers as Rhaenyra turned to face her, revealing a very obviously designer black top that hugged her almost as well as the matching trousers did. And, for the hundredth time this year, Alicent wondered why someone who looked like they stepped out of a magazine chose to exist within the walls of this store. 

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even register that Rhaenyra had moved until something was being shoved into her hand. Balking, she flinched backward slightly before realizing that her fingers were wrapped around a white cup. 

Alicent stared at the coffee cup like it was a bomb waiting to go off. “Wha—“

“You were late,” Rhaenyra interrupted, motioning towards the cup lamely. The confused look on her face never faltered, though, so the Targaryen attempted to elaborate, words running out of her mouth faster than Alicent could comprehend them. “You’re never late, so I figured that you would be stressed out, and you skip your lunch break when there’s a lot to do, and, well, you need to eat, so I thought…”

The blonde trailed off as she lifted up a light brown bag and silently held it out in offering. It was then that Alicent realized she was wrong. For the first time since she had met the landlord’s daughter, she didn’t look confident; she looked nervous. 

Alicent stared at the bag blankly. Her eyes flickered to the cup held firmly in her fist before moving back to the bag. She had been under the assumption that the blonde wasn’t capable of thinking about anyone other than herself, but, apparently, that wasn’t true. Because Rhaenyra had thought about her. Not only that, but Rhaenyra had been worried about her, had spent money on her. And, even though it was only a few dollars, even though a coffee was probably nothing to a girl that had everything, it wasn’t nothing to her. 

This wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting, and she wasn’t exactly sure how to process it. 

Rhaenyra surveyed her frozen expression before nodding slowly. “Right. I didn’t mean to assume. Maybe you’ve already eaten. I’ll just go.”

Silver hair tossed over dark fabric once more as she turned to leave, and suddenly Alicent started to panic. This was supposed to be good, right? Rhaenyra was leaving like Criston wanted, and she didn’t even have to be the one to tell her to go. But that stupid coffee cup sat in her hand like an anvil, and that stupid, hopeful look in lavender eyes was burned on the inside of her eyelids, and—

Her free hand closed around the other girl’s wrist before she could think better of it. “Wait.”

The Targaryen paused, tilting her head over her shoulder to watch her curiously. A strong pulse beat underneath her fingertips. Suddenly, any momentary resolution evaded her. Why did it feel like she had swallowed cotton balls?

“Thank you,” she managed after a few awkward moments of holding the other girl’s wrist. Releasing her grip, she stepped back in a feeble attempt to put more space between them. “That was… sweet.”

A flash of relief seemed to dance across Valyrian features before it morphed into the signature smirk that she had grown so used to. “Of course. My father might be legally liable if you starve on the job. I’m just doing my due diligence.”

The shift set the tightness in her chest at ease a bit. She hadn’t known what to do with the new side of Rhaenyra she had been given a glimpse of, but this one? This one she knew. “Well, I’ll try to take better care of myself, then. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble or anything.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the blonde dismissed with a grin. “I don’t need your help. With that at least.”

Alicent opened her mouth to question that statement before thinking better of it. She had learned early on that probing at Rhaenyra’s suggestive comments was not in her best interest. “Well, regardless. Thank you.”

Something twinkled in lavender eyes, but Rhaenyra never responded. Instead, the to-go bag was offered to her once more, and, this time, she accepted it without hesitation. 

Chapter Text

[A few weeks later]

“Hi, welcome in.”

Alicent’s head shot up, eyeing darting towards the door at the sound of Criston’s greeting. A middle-aged woman was dragging her teenage son towards the men’s section. Something twanged in her chest. She was probably getting sick. 

Reverting her gaze back to the cash register, she busied herself with filling the drawer with coins, watching as they tumbled into the register one after the other.

She had been working here for around six months now. Every single weekend, all weekend long, and occasionally after school. This was her longest shift to date. Well, technically that wasn’t true. Last weekend had admittedly been worse. But this one felt longer. Every so often she would look up at the clock on the far side of the floor and watch the second hand tick by. She swore time was passing much slower than normal. And she tried not to think about why, really she did, but the store was the emptiest it had been in months, and no matter how much she tried to avoid thinking about it, she just couldn’t–

Rhaenyra wasn’t here. For the first time since the silver-haired girl had wandered past the storefront during one of her first few days and decided to essentially stalk her ever since Rhaenyra hadn’t shown up to her shift. 

It didn’t bother her. Well, it shouldn’t bother her. Rhaenyra shouldn’t even be there every day, anyway. Well, that’s what Criston always said. Gods, she had never seen her shift manager happier than he was today. Even now, he was practically glowing as he held up various collared shirts for the boy and his mother. She should be happy, too… right? She could finally do her job uninterrupted. That was… good. It was.

Except time passed at a snail's pace, and, by the time they were finally locking up for night, there was an exhaustion seeping into her bones that was more from the emptiness burrowing a hole in her chest than physical exertion, and she had never been more ready to curl up in a blanket and start over tomorrow. 

Criston, on the other hand, was humming as he inserted the key into the door. She only watched mutely as the lock clicked close, signaling the end of an uneventful day. When he was finished, he flashed her a smile. “Well, have a great night.”

“Yeah,” she echoed dumbly. “You, too.”

She watched for a moment as the dark-haired man turned and headed down the hall towards the exit. After a few seconds, she followed him, feet dragging along the tile as she made her way outside. The weather had taken a turn for the worse a few weeks ago, inviting a winter breeze into the streets of Kings Landing that left no one coatless. Alicent hated the cold, and, no, that wasn’t an exaggeration. She despised it, actually, which is why it took a couple of minutes of staring out the glass door at her car to convince herself to finally leave the comforting warmth of the mall heaters. 

As soon as she opened the door, the icy wind hit her in the face like a ton of bricks, and she could only tug the hood of her coat down to cover her face as she made a beeline to her car. 

She was halfway there when headlights flashed in her peripherals, prompting her legs to take longer strides. A mall parking lot at 10pm wasn’t the safest place for a teenage girl to be alone, and she was no stranger to the paranoia that crept into the back of her mind, propelling her legs into longer strides. The headlights didn’t move, though. In fact, it looked like they were getting… closer?

That wasn’t right. That wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Dread began to pool in Alicent’s stomach. She didn’t look, didn’t think, wasn’t capable of any other thoughts, anyways, outside of it’s cold, and I want to go home . Her hand had just closed around the worn tan paint of her car’s door handle, seconds away from safety when…

“Alicent!”

Alicent froze like the ground beneath her feet. That voice. Of course, she knew that voice. “Rhaenyra?”

Finally glancing to the right, taking in the beautiful, expensive pearly white Range Rover pulled over by the dented bumper of her sedan, surveying the familiar Valyrian features that were bare of any concealer. Gone were the designer clothes and the jewelry worth more than her college fund. For the first time since Alicent had met her, Rhaenyra looked almost normal, sporting an oversized sweatshirt and a messy ponytail that looked almost out of place. Silver lashes fluttered as their owner grinned at her, tossing tied-up silver locks over her shoulder. “Get in.”

She almost laughed. Her father was expecting her back at home; she couldn’t just “get in”. Not only that, but she wasn’t exactly pleased with the silver-haired girl at the moment. Rhaenyra had left her alone at work all day without a word. Well, they hadn’t exactly exchanged numbers, so technically she couldn’t have told her. But her father really was waiting on her. She had to…

A waft of warm air hit her cold cheeks as Rhaenyra put the window down the rest of the way. Her feet were rounding the passenger side before she could think better of it.

There was hardly room for regrets when Rhaenyra was reaching over to turn on her seat warmer before the door even clicked shut. Her muscles sunk into the cushioned backrest with little effort as she hugged her arms over her chest in an attempt to encourage the blood flow to return to her limbs. 

Rhaenyra, on the other hand, was already moving onto bigger and better things, already fiddling with the gear shift on the console and putting the car back into “drive”.

“What are you doing?”

Lavender eyes flitted towards her once more, and the responding tone made her feel like she was missing something. “Going to Baelon Burger. Duh.”

“Rhaenyra, I have to go home,” the words came out of her mouth on autopilot. She should; she was supposed to. 

A silver eyebrow raised at her, questioning the validity of her statement with one look. “You have to eat.”

She was mildly offended. Why did Rhaenyra just assume she didn’t eat? A baseless accusation. 

“Maybe I already ate.”

Rhaenyra snorted. “You didn’t. You never eat during a closing shift.”

That… was not technically incorrect. She always intended on eating, but the food court could get expensive, and there had to be something edible in the fridge at home... Godsdammit . 

“My dad is waiting on me,” she reiterated instead because it was the only excuse she had left. 

The car lurched forward in the middle of the parking lot. Manicured nails put the car in park. Silver hair swished as lavender eyes locked with her own. 

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra said in a voice so soft it made her stop worrying and really listen. “Let me buy you dinner.”

They stared at each other for a minute, brown on purple, purple on brown, deciphering. Finally, “Where were you?”

Rhaenyra averted her gaze to the dashboard. Fiddled with the cotton of her sleeve. Alicent never looked away. “At the hospital.”

Oh. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Her eyes scanned up and down, assessing for an injury she couldn’t find. It was still there, though, in the slightly puffy eyes she hadn’t noticed before, in the sagging shoulders. “Are you ok?”

“I’m not hurt,” the silver-haired girl promised instead. That didn’t answer her question, though. 

“No,” she tried again. “How do you feel?”

A meniscal shrug. Silence. Then, “Alive, I guess.”

Alicent waited a moment before realizing she wasn’t going to get anything more. That was alright, she supposed. Rhaenyra didn’t owe her anything. She wanted to help, wanted to show solidarity at the least, but she didn’t know what was going on, didn’t even know Rhaenyra that well. The faraway look on Valyrian features was so out of place, though, so wrong. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to make her smile again. Well, except maybe—

“Ok. Buy me dinner.”

Lavender eyes lifted once more, startled. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” she affirmed, even though her car keys sat in her pocket like an anvil. Her father wouldn’t be happy, that she knew. But Rhaenyra needed someone right now, and for whatever reason, she wanted that someone to be her. He would understand, right?

That same toothy grin overtook the Targaryen’s face once more, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. 

Alicent matched it with her own before turning her attention to the radio. “On one condition: I’m on aux.”

Rhaenyra’s answering groan was quickly drowned out by the trumpet chorus that filled the car once she had successfully located her favorite classical music station. Despite the numerous complaints and frequent pouting, Alicent counted the reignited twinkle in lavender eyes as approval. 

——

It didn’t happen often. Once in a blue moon, maybe, almost as rare as mercury going into retrograde, or Criston actually taking a sick day from work. But it did happen. It did today, at least. 

Because, it turns out, Alicent was wrong. 

Her father didn’t understand.

“10:30. I told you to be home by 10:30, but you didn’t listen. And not a single word to show for it. For all I know, you could’ve been in a ditch somewhere—“

Alicent knew she should listen, really, she did, but the specifics of her scolding didn’t matter. She had accepted her fate that moment the front door swung open to reveal her father’s disapproving scowl. Maybe she’d get her phone taken away. Or her car. It didn’t really matter. So, instead, she found her mind wandering, thinking first towards the homework she had to get done tomorrow, then to the laundry that was waiting in the hamper in her room, and finally, somehow, settling on the memory of two hands closing around hers in the fast food parking lot, cradling them in a feeble attempt to chase away the cold—

“Alicent.”

Her gaze shot up from the floor to lock with her father’s. He was… well, not impressed. “Are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

Her mouth opened and closed for a few seconds before she finally managed a meek, “Yes?”

A calloused hand raised to pinch the bridge of her father’s nose. There was a moment of silence as he mentally counted to three. She knew this look. It was a frustrated stance she’d seen plenty of times before when Gwayne had been caught sneaking out or drinking, but never with her . Oh, don’t get her wrong, she let him down plenty, but she had never deliberately disobeyed him before.

Tugging the hood of her coat down to cover more of her face, she sunk into the fabric, hoping that it would shield her from whatever was to come. 

“You’re grounded.”

The muscles of her jaw loosened until she was full-on gaping. Grounded? There had to be some mistake. Alicent Hightower didn’t get grounded. Gwayne was another story, but her?

“Dad, please—“

“No TV. No phone. No hanging out with your friends after the Sept. You are to come straight home after work, and…”

An irrational wave of panic washed over her, sending her spiraling. Maybe it was silly. She didn’t watch much TV anyway, but… 

“Thanks for dinner. It was… fun.”

“Does that mean you’d let me whisk you away from work again sometime?”

“I don’t know. Ask me again tomorrow.”

“Dad,” her voice came out stronger this time, louder than she had intended it to. It wasn’t until her father stopped to watch her with narrowed eyes that she realized she had interrupted him. Her fingers twitched towards her nail beds, but he was waiting; she couldn’t back out now. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. It’s just… there’s this girl.”

That didn’t seem like a good enough explanation, though, because her father’s eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead. She stuttered for a few moments before continuing, “Uh, at work. Well, not at work, really, she doesn’t work there, but…”

Gods, Alicent, pull yourself together. 

After a deep breath, she continued. “She’s going through something right now. She needed someone tonight. And, well, I was there.”

She didn’t mention that they weren’t even really friends. She didn’t mention that, from what she could tell, Rhaenyra did have friends—close ones—but had come to her instead. She didn’t mention that they hadn’t even talked about whatever Rhaenyra was doing at the hospital but had instead spent an hour and a half trading shy smiles across the corner booth of a fast food restaurant. It didn’t really feel like any of that would help her cause. 

Olive eyes seemed to pierce her soul for a full thirty seconds before gracing her with a response. “You were out with a… girl.”

Alicent hesitated before nodding. “Yes.”

Her father’s mouth was set in a line; she couldn’t quite decide if her explanation had lessened the punishment or not. He hummed thoughtfully before asking slowly, “And who is this girl ?”

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent answered immediately as if the name was on the tip of her tongue. “Her name is Rhaenyra. Her dad owns the mall.”

That seemed to catch his attention. “He does, does he?”

Again, her head bobbed dumbly. “Yes.”

It was quiet for one second. Two. Gods, she was stupid. How could she ever think her father would understand? Of course, he wouldn’t. And now he was looking at her like that , like he was onto her even though she wasn’t quite sure what she had done. This was it. She was never going to be allowed to leave the house again, was never going to see Rhaenyra again, and wouldn’t even be able to tell her because they never exchanged numbers—

The silence was broken by the loud clearing of a throat as shoulders straightened to full height. “Yes, well. Good for you. Being there for her, and all. You should keep that up.”

It felt like someone had slapped her in the face. This had to be a joke. Her father was far from a bleeding heart; he had never been one to care much about another human. Still, Alicent nodded fervently, playing along. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure. I will.”

Her feet felt like they were floating as she turned to make a beeline down the hall, hoping to escape into her room before she woke up from whatever dream this was. She was halfway there when he called after her.

“Next time be back before midnight.”

She managed a dazed nod before disappearing through the door of her room. 

——

The entire day was a blur. Sleep had evaded her for much of the night, and it left her head clouded as she knelt in front of the statue of the Maiden at the Sept in the early morning light. The fog didn’t disperse the entire service, nor when she was dragged to lunch with her father and his friends afterward.

It had taken Gwayne waving a palm inches from her face for her to blink away the daze. “Earth to Alicent.”

Even then, she hadn’t done much more than shove him away. 

Now, as she folded a plain white blouse and deposited it in a bag, her mind continued to wander. 

“Alicent Hightower, are you calling me a liar?”

“Come on. No one actually speaks Valyrian anymore. It’s nearly a dead language.”

“Oh, yn kostan.” (Oh, but I can.)

Brown eyes widened almost comically.

Rhaenyra let out a soft laugh. “Jaes, iksā sīr gevie.” (Gods, you’re so beautiful.)

“What does that mean?” 

“It means you need to finish your food so we can order dessert.”

“Alicent, what in the Seven hells are you doing?”

When she lifted her head, instead of the customer she had been checking out standing in front of her, Criston watched her with an exasperated expression and crossed arms. 

A sheepish smile found its way to her lips. “Uh, working?”

Criston scoffed. “Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

She opened her mouth to respond but never got the chance. 

“Don’t you have children to yell at or something, Criston?”

Every muscle in her body froze, and her lungs forgot how to breathe. Her gaze flickered from Criston to the entrance and… There she was, leaning against the shelving in the front, braided silver cascading over deep red silk. There was a chain around her neck, layered over her usual golden locket, that Alicent hadn’t seen before. It was covered in… diamonds? Seven hells. 

It wasn’t until lavender eyes met hers that she realized she was staring. Her face grew hot as she busied herself with shifting through the bags of recent returns.. 

Criston, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as fazed as she was. “Get out of my store, Targaryen.”

“I’m sorry, your store?” Rhaenyra questioned with a raised eyebrow. 

The Dornish man only grunted. “I don’t have time to deal with you today. We’re busy enough as it is.”

That was hardly true. They had been averaging two customers an hour, but Alicent wasn’t about to get in the middle of her shift manager’s pointed glare. 

“One minute. Give me one minute, and I’ll be out of your hair,” the silver-haired girl promised, sounding surprisingly less hostile.

That seemed an offer too sweet to resist because Criston didn’t hesitate. “Fine.”

And then those lavender eyes were on hers once more, paired with a wide smile. “Hi.”

Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth; it took her a moment to remember how to speak. “Hi.”

“Looks like I can’t hang around today,” she began with a quick glance towards the shift manager. Her gaze returned a second later, full of firm resolve. “But are you free later? I was thinking we could do something.”

Yes. The word eagerly shoved its way to the tip of her tongue, and almost tore free, but she swallowed it before it was vocalized. Because the truth was, no, no she wasn’t. There was homework due tomorrow, laundry to be done, and despite her father’s odd change of heart she was sure he wouldn’t be too pleased with her showing up late twice. 

“I can’t,” she admitted. The words tasted bitter on her tongue. “But maybe sometime during the week?”

She expected Rhaenyra to be disappointed, maybe even to recede her offer, but the silver-haired girl beamed. “Perfect. Text me?”

Alicent frowned. Was that a joke? She didn’t have— 

It was almost like Rhaenyra could read her mind because perfectly manicured fingers slipped into the designer bag swung over her shoulder to retrieve her phone wrapped in a new, sparkly case. Alicent stared at it blankly. Gods, even her phone case looked expensive, its sleek gold twinkling in the fluorescent lighting. It only served as a reminder that she was way in over her head. 

What was she doing? This had to be a prank, right? Someone as perfect as Rhaenyra didn’t really want to associate with her out of these four walls… right?

She wasn’t sure what ended up being the catalyst. Maybe it was the way silver eyebrows raised at her questioningly—almost a dare—maybe it the way she could feel Cristin’s lingering gaze watching her every move, or maybe—just maybe—it was the way that glossed lips had quirked every time brown eyes met warm lavender over the rim of her milkshake glass… 

“What?” 

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all. Have I ever told you that you look lovely in blue?”

She took the phone after a moment’s hesitation, fingertips brushing the back of Rhaenyra’s hand ever so slightly. There was a tremor in her thumbs as she typed in her name and number. As soon as she clicked “done” and her name was cemented into Rhaenyra’s contact list, her eyes flickered upwards once more, searching for a reaction. 

The silver-haired girl looked way too smug for her liking. It almost made her regret it. Almost. That is, until a soft hand closed around hers, squeezing gently before retrieving the phone from her grasp. “I’ll be sure not to abuse such a gracious offering.”

Alicent couldn’t withhold the snort that tore itself from her lungs. “Yeah, well, if you spam me, I’m blocking you. Immediately.”

The exaggerated gasp that came in response had her eyes rolling almost subconsciously. “Oh, come on. I’m the queen of memes. I have a few you’d appreciate, I think.”

“I’m serious, Rhaenyra,” Alicent tried her best to sound cross, but her tone sounded way too soft, way too fond, for her not to be failing miserably. “I will block you if you fill my phone with that nonsense.”

The grin that stretched across Valyrian features was so radiant, so genuine that she couldn’t help but stare. “Oh, but you won’t.” 

No, no she wouldn’t, but Rhaenyra didn’t need to know that. “Do not test me, Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

Lavender eyes were twinkling like stars as the silver-haired girl leaned closer to her, just close enough that she could pretend to feel the ghost of a breath hit her cheeks and— “I wouldn’t dream of it, Alicent Hightower.”

In a flash of silver she was gone, leaving only a cloud of expensive perfume and the image of that grin burned on the insides of Alicent’s eyelids in her place…

Where was she again?

Alicent blinked once, and then twice. Shifted her feet when she remembered that they were attached to her legs. It took a few moments to realize that she was at work and figured it was time to return to the cash register, but when she turned, she was only met with dark Dornish eyes staring at her incredulously. 

“What?” she questioned, against her better judgment. 

The noise that left Criston’s mouth could only be described as a scoff. “You two spend nearly every day together, and you didn’t have each other's numbers?”

“No?” Alicent answered slowly. For some reason, it felt like the wrong answer, even if it was the truth. She didn’t really understand why he was looking at her like that. 

“Let me rephrase that,” Criston tried again, clear judgment in his pinched features. “You’re telling me that I spent months enduring you two looking at each other like that , and you didn’t do a damn thing about it.”

Red, hot heat flushed her cheeks against her will. Did she… look at Rhaenyra weird? She didn’t think so. But, well, Rhaenyra was objectively gorgeous. Like, sometimes-Alicent-forgot-how-to-breathe-around-her kind of gorgeous. How else was she supposed to look at her? And if Criston noticed it… Gods, did Rhaenyra see it, too? Her words came out much more flustered than she intended them to. “Wha—what do you mean?”

Criston didn’t hold back in his responding glare. “ Alicent .”

Her fingers danced over her nail beds nervously. “I don’t… Well, I don’t mean to.“

An irritated groan was the only response she received. Turning away as if he couldn’t bear to look at her anymore, Criston stalked back toward the break room with a dismissive wave. “You’re hopeless.”

“How do I—“ 

The break room door slammed shut as dark hair disappeared behind the metal door. Alicent stared at it for a moment, cheeks still flushed from the last minute of conversation. 

Eventually, a buzz sounded in her pocket, bringing her back to reality. She fumbled with her jeans pocket for a second before retrieving her phone from its depths. The screen flashed with a notification. 

Unknown sent an image. 

She was kind of grateful that Criston wasn’t around to see the corners of her lips tug upwards without her consent.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra Targaryen sent you a message.

A smile played at the corner of Alicent’s lips when the notification popped up on the screen. After a quick scan of the store proved that Criston was still on his lunch break, her index finger swiftly tapped the banner. 

Rhaenyra Targaryen: Your hair looks good today.

Those five words stole the breath from her lungs and flooded her cheeks with warmth. Brown eyes shot upwards, surveying the room carefully once more. The aisles of shelves and racks remained uninhabited. Regardless, she glanced around for another moment before returning her attention to the screen.

Alicent: Where are you?

Rhaenyra Targaryen: I told you there’s a football game today.

Ah, yes. Alicent had only snorted when Rhaenyra had mentioned in passing that she was a cheerleader. 

What? Rhaenyra questioned.

It makes sense, Alicent had offered lamely in response. And it did. Rhaenyra was popular and larger than life and, well, perfect. It only made sense that she would be in a role that communicated such. And, now that she knew it to be true, she couldn’t unsee it: Rhaenyra, at the top of a pyramid, commanding the attention of everyone in her school. Alicent knows she would have hers. 

Am I supposed to be offended by that? Rhaenyra had asked. 

Alicent had only shaken her head, No. Not at all. 

Her fingers began typing a response before her mind fully returned to the present. 

Alicent: Then how do you know what my hair looks like?

Rhaenyra Targaryen: Your hair always looks good.

Rhaenyra Targaryen: Duh.

Something halfway between a scoff and a giggle forced its way out of her lungs. Gods. Rhaenyra had an unnerving ability to make her forget where she was, and she desperately needed to rein it in. She was at work. And Rhaenyra wasn’t even here. 

Inhaling deeply through her nose to calm herself down, her previously stalled fingers began to tap the screen once more. 

Alicent: Don’t you have something better to do?

Rhaenyra Targaryen: Than talking to you? Never.

Thud! She hadn’t even felt her phone slip through her fingers, but all of a sudden her matte emerald case was looking up at her from the counter. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks, but a quick scan of the room confirmed that she was still alone. Thank the gods no one was around to see that.

After another second of staring at the phone and contemplating her life choices, Alicent decided it was probably best that it stayed there. There were still a few more hours of her shift left, and it would go by excruciatingly slow if she spent the entire time thinking about—

“Can I have this?”

Every nerve-ending in Alicent’s body ignited, causing a visible flinch to shake her limbs. Head snapping upwards, she found wide periwinkle eyes watching her intently. It was a boy. She could’ve sworn she was alone.

“Can I?” He repeated, swinging a bright red and blue piece of fabric in front of her face. Jerking back slightly to get a better look, she realized it was one of the Spider-Man beanies that had arrived earlier that week.

Alicent blinked slowly, taking in the scene in front of her. She had never seen a better dressed child in her entire life. He stood clad in a puffy espresso-colored coat and snowy sneakers that were spotless. It made the mop of white-blonde hair perched on his head look oddly out of place. While a few pieces remained combed over to the side, wispy curls hung over his eyes. 

Finally, she replied, “Do you have money to pay for that?”

The bridge of his nose scrunched up in irritation. “I don’t need money to pay for it.”

Of course. Of course the one day she didn’t have to worry about Rhaenyra stealing anything, another culprit would materialize out of thin air. 

This wasn’t exactly something Criston had covered in training. Alicent hadn’t ever really been around kids. All of her siblings were older, and she stopped seeing most of her younger cousins when her father no longer deemed the drive to the Arbor feasible for the holidays. Handling a grabby 8-year-old was not typically on the cards for her. There were memories, though, of her mother’s unyielding patience and gentle smiles. Her mother was always so good with her, with Gwayne, with her cousins. That had worked well enough, right? She turned out ok. Gwayne, on the other hand…

Summoning her best Alyrie Hightower impression, Alicent allowed the tense expression on her face to soften into an unsure smile. “That would look great on you.”

The boy puffed up his chest at her words, looking very much like a chocolate marshmallow. “I was Spider-Man for Halloween last year.”

The lingering tension in her shoulders eased. This wasn’t so bad.

“I bet you were a great Spider-Man,” Alicent commented, earning herself an enthusiastic nod. 

“I was the bestest,” he boasted, the bi-colored beanie crumbling beneath his fingers as he squeezed his fists excitedly. “I got the most candy out of anyone in the neighborhood!”

The laugh that bubbled up from the depths of Alicent’s chest took her by surprise. At some point in their conversation, the smile stretched across her cheeks became genuine. Typically, the customers that she encountered were Karens with angry glares and threats to call her manager that had her so flustered that Criston granted  an early break while he matched their energy, but this chubby-cheeked child was somewhat endearing. It gave her a surge of confidence that she didn’t usually get while on the job. “Well, Spider-Man, I have a mission for you.”

Periwinkle eyes shone as the boy nearly trembled in excitement. “Anything.”

“Your mission: Go find your parents. Your reward: The Spider-Man hat.”

In a flash of silver and brown, he was off, shooting across the floor so quickly he was almost levitating. Inklings of pride shimmered within her, leading her to straighten her shoulders ever so slightly. She was kind of proud of herself. 

Until she realized that he had run out with the beanie.

Shit. Criston was not going to be happy. Between the daily visits from Rhaenyra, his irritation towards her seemed endless. The thought of being on the receiving end of one of Criston deadly glares had knots of anxiety winding in her stomach. 

Maybe he wouldn’t notice, was her first thought, but  she dismissed the idea as quickly as it had surfaced. Criston always noticed. Whether she accidentally showed up five minutes late or left one piece of clothing half-folded, there were always dark, hawk eyes assessing her every moment. 

It was probably easier if she just rang up a beanie and paid for it herself. She would rather forgo a coffee or two than be subjected to Criston’s judgment more than necessary. 

Before she could even pull up the transaction on the screen, a loud squeak rang through her ears. Her gaze flickered upward just in time to watch the little boy barrel back into the store. The breath Alicent didn’t know she had been holding wasn’t even fully released when a tall woman rushed in behind him, clicking heels harmonizing with the boy’s squeaky sneakers.

“Aegon!” The woman scolded, chest rising and falling rapidly as she came to a stop next to the counter. “No running inside.”

The boy — Aegon — didn’t pay her any mind as he laid the beanie on the laminate counter, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “I did it! Can I have it now?”

A surprised laugh forced its way from Alicent’s throat as she watched his periwinkle eyes twinkle in excitement. Any lingering panic in her chest melted into something warmer. A passing thought danced across the forefront of her mind, one she’d never had before. For a kid, he was kind of cute. In an irritating way. Kind of like… 

“If your mother says yes, it’s all yours,” she promised, tearing her gaze away from the kid only to find her watching her intently, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled. Alicent was almost taken aback by how utterly kind she looked; she practically radiated it. A stark contrast from the majority of customers that stepped into this store, from Criston. Alicent took her in for a moment, from the long, tailored camel coat tied around her waist to the mulberry scarf wrapped delicately around her head. Threads of gold shimmered subtly through the rich fabric, catching the light with each movement.

“Can I have it?” Aegon begged, his small hands grabbing at his mother’s persistently. The corners of the woman’s cheeks stretched even wider. It was a level of patience Alicent hadn’t seen in nearly seven years. 

A slender hand broke free of little fingers, raising to tap her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Can you?” 

More strands of wavy white hair fell in front of the boy’s eyes as his mouth twisted into a pout. “Please? I’ll clean my room when I get home.”

“Will you?” The woman’s eyebrows raised upward questioning, drawing Alicent’s gaze. They were perfect. Too perfect, even, curving over her eyes elegantly as if painted on by a Renaissance artist— oh.

That’s when Alicent realized that they were painted. Lightly penciled silver brows had only the lightest contrast against the woman’s fair skin. Realistic, but drawn on with a careful hand.

And then, Alicent started noticing other things, too. Things she wouldn’t have noticed otherwise — like how the long lashes shading tired eyes were attached with glue or how there was no hair peeking out of the woven scarf wrapped around her head.

Something sunk in Alicent’s stomach. All of a sudden, she felt sick. 

“Yes, yes, I promise,” Aegon vowed, still practically vibrating eagerly. Alicent was starting to consider him in a new light, too. 

One of those slender hands — fragile, Alicent realized — disappeared into the bag thrown over the woman’s shoulder to fish out her wallet. “Alright, then. Just this, please.”

It took Alicent a minute to remember that the woman was talking to her, that it was her job to check them out. 

“Right,” she managed, tapping on the cash register keys before gently pushing the card reader towards the woman. “That’ll be $11.50.”

“Thank you,” the woman commented as her metal card tapped the reader, inciting a loud beep. Those kind eyes shifted below her gaze to scan her name tag. Alicent was too busy printing the receipt to notice the pause in the other woman’s voice. “Alicent?”

A low hum resonated in her throat in response as she plucked the thermal paper from the printer. “Would you like your receipt?”

“The Alicent?”

Alicent blinked slowly before meeting the woman’s curious gaze. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized immediately, but there was an amused smile creeping back into her face. She almost looked like— “That wasn’t very polite of me. It’s just, well, my daughter has told me a lot about you.”

And then it all clicked. It was like Alicent blinked, and mulberry wool morphed into silver locks, the gleam in lavender eyes was no longer one of angelic patience but unrelenting mischief. 

“Where were you?”

Rhaenyra averted her gaze to the dashboard. Fiddled with the cotton of her sleeve. Alicent never looked away. “At the hospital.”

The breath was stolen from Alicent’s lungs. There was a sudden, overwhelming throb in her chest because it all made sense now. Gods, Rhaenyra. How did she come in here every day, smiling bright as the sun, as if there weren’t shadows lingering just around the corner?

Her mouth opened and closed for a few moments, unsure how to respond, until finally the first thing on her mind spilled out of her mouth. “She looks just like you.”

Her fingers twitched around the receipt. Gods. Out of everything she could have said, why did it have to be that?

Thankfully, that seemed to be the right thing to say, because the woman’s smile only brightened. “It’s nice to meet you, Alicent.”

Alicent relaxed slightly, offering her own smile in return. “You too, Mrs. Targaryen.”

“Aemma,” Rhaenyra’s mother supplied as she finally took the receipt from Alicent’s outstretched hand. 

“Aemma,” Alicent repeated softly, testing out the word on her tongue. 

No longer able to resist, Aegon snatched the beanie off the counter before haphazardly shoving it on his head. “Thank you, Alicent!”

Her gaze flickered down at the boy. Rhaenyra’s brother, she realized. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information. “Oh, uh, you’re welcome.”

Having received what he had come here for, Aegon took off without another word, marching off into the mall to accomplish his next mission.

Aemma let out an exasperated sigh. “I have to go handle that, but it was great to meet you. Come over any time, ok?”

The thought of being in Rhaenyra Targaryen’s house made her mouth go dry, but she managed a nod regardless. “Thank you.”

And with that, she was gone, taking long strides after the red and blue beanie that had disappeared into the crowd. 

Alicent stood there for a while, still as a statue, contemplating the past few minutes. Eventually, her phone vibrated on the laminate, begging for her attention.

She picked it up without hesitation, eager for a reprieve from the thoughts in her head.

—---

“Hey!”

The voice came from so close that Alicent almost dropped the sweater in her hands. There, leaning against the nearby jeans display, was Rhaenyra. Long silver strands tied high in an elaborate braid, cascading over the snowy cashmere covering her shoulders. An easy grin stretched across unblemished cheeks, unbothered by the worry stirring deep in Alicent’s chest. Like usual, there was no makeup painted over her features – Alicent didn’t think she needed it, anyways – but it did leave the hint of darkened circles under her eyes vulnerable. They were barely there – she probably wouldn’t have even seen it if she hadn’t been looking – but it was unmistakable. A physical manifestation of the weight sitting on her shoulders. 

Paired with the vibrant lavender irises and the slight wrinkling of the corners of her eyes when she smiled, Alicent couldn’t unsee it: she looked exactly like Aemma.

“Sorry that I’m a bit late,” Rhaenyra began as the half-folded sweater in Alicent’s hands dropped to the ground. “I was so tired after the game yesterday that I slept in and–”

Words were promptly cut off by an oof as Alicent collided roughly with her chest, knocking the air out of her lungs. Hesitant hands hovered over her hips, uncertain by this new development, but, in the moment, Alicent didn’t particularly care that they hadn’t hugged before. Instead, she silently relished the softness of the other girl’s sweater against her cheek, hoping that the tight squeeze of her arms communicated what she didn’t know how to put into words.

After a few moments of hesitation, two arms gently circled her frame in return. Alicent let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. 

“If I knew you’d miss me that much, I would’ve skipped the game,” Rhaenyra joked, the words blowing hot air that caressed the top of her head. 

The familiar teasing eased her concern slightly. Rhaenyra was here, and she would be fine. Rubbing her thumbs against the fluffy cashmere along the other girl’s waist, Alicent let out a small huff and decided to play along. “I never said I missed you.”

“Really?” The silver-haired girl questioned sarcastically as she buried her face into auburn curls. “It sure seems like you did.”

Alicent opened her mouth to respond but stopped abruptly when a deep inhale sounded near her ear. “Did you just sniff my hair?”

Flat out ignoring her incredulous tone, another inhale followed the first. “Is that rose?”

Ok, that’s enough. That’s the last time she attempted to comfort her… friend?

“You’re a freak,” Alicent grumbled accusingly, finally releasing her hold on the other girl’s waist. The arms circling her tightened petulantly, but she batted them away halfheartedly. 

A petulant scoff left Rhaenyra’s mouth as she relented, taking a step backwards to give her some breathing room. Alicent tried (and failed) not to mourn the loss of warmth. “Rude.”

“You’re rude,” the words fell out of her mouth on instinct. She wasn’t even sure what she was accusing the other girl of at this point. 

Rhaenyra, unfortunately, seemed to pick up on that if the twinkling in lavender eyes was anything to go off of. “You’re right. My bad. Sorry for taking the opportunity to try to figure out why you always smell so damn good.”

Alicent was about to argue when something caught her attention. “You think I smell good?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it? When have I ever lied to you?”

She could think of more than a couple of times. “Didn’t you steal from the store right in front of me?”

“It was for the bit, Alicent. We’ve been over this.” The sigh that followed Rhaenyra’s defense made it clear that she was done with the conversation. Alicent, on the other hand, was not.

“Just last week, you promised that I could pay for dinner this time, and you still haven’t accepted my venmo request.”

“A gentleman never lets a beautiful lady pay. Again, we’ve been over this.”

“And you told Criston you could fire him–”

“I can fire him.”

An auburn eyebrow arched with no small amount of judgment. “See? Rude.”

For the first time since the silver-haired girl had first wandered into GAP months ago, she seemed at a loss for words. That is, until her lips creeped upwards, cutting through her obvious shock like a knife. “You are so cute.”

Heat flooded her cheeks so violently that she was pretty sure it reached the tips of her ears. “Stop.”

“Awww,” Rhaenyra cooed, reaching out a perfect manicured finger to poke her flushed skin. “Adorable.”

Alicent jerked so violently away from the finger that one would’ve thought she was being swung at instead of poked. “Stop.”

Much to her embarrassment – and Rhaenyra’s evident delight – the words came out much whiner than she intended them to. Rhaenyra was grinning so hard that Alicent wondered if it would slip open her cheeks. 

Alicent only rolled her eyes before picking up the amethyst wool from the floor and shoving it into the other girl’s chest. “Shut up and make yourself useful.”

Rhaenyra, to her credit, humored her, fumbling with the corners of the wool as she halfheartedly folded the clothing. Satisfied, Alicent went back to work. They shifted through the new stock of sweaters in silence for a few moments before the silver-haired girl piped up once more.

“Seriously, though,” Rhaenyra murmured just loud enough for her ears. “Are you alright?”

Are you alright? Alicent wanted to ask but held her tongue. She should tell her. Tell her that she knew. That she met Aemma, that she saw the scarf wrapped around her head. But she didn’t. Rhaenyra would tell her when she wanted her to know.

“Maybe I did miss you,” she admitted instead, avoiding the silver-haired girl’s gaze. “Just a bit.”

The huge grin on her face made up for it all. “I knew it.”

“Don’t go making a big deal about it or anything.”

“Of course not,” Rhaenyra goaded as she plucked another sweater from the pile. “I would never do such a thing.”

She would, but, thankfully, she didn’t. Instead, she changed the subject, opting to delve into details about the game the day before in substitution. Alicent knew she hadn’t heard the last of it, though. Not if the lingering smugness on the other girl’s face was anything to go by. 

Given the circumstances, though, Alicent found that she was surprisingly okay with that. The smile on Rhaenyra’s face was worth it.

Chapter Text

[A few days later]

It was half past five when Alicent finally scurried through the doors of GAP. Criston was already shooting her an unimpressed look, eyes narrowed into snake-like slits over the top of his phone. She had been expecting this. In fact, she had even come up with a monologue to justify her tardiness on the car ride over. But when it came down to it, the full-fledged sprint from her car to the store left her lungs greedily gasping for breath, leaving little room for words. 

The only thing she managed was a pained, “I got out of school late,” through harsh pants as she darted past her manager to the breakroom. 

Seven hells, this was only getting harder. It had been months since summer ended, and her father’s demands that she get a “summer job” bled from autumn to winter. Balancing homework with 5 days of retail work per week left her absolutely exhausted by the time Sunday rolled around. She knew it was partially her fault — while she made a point to make Otto aware of her ire in the beginning, her complaints about cataloging seasonal attire had lessened significantly over the past few months. To be fair, her change in tone hadn’t come from the joys of customer service nor Criston’s delightful personality.

Because putting in her two week notice meant she wouldn’t have an easy excuse to spend time with Rhaenyra. And much as she was starting to loathe spending countless hours staring at the hazy partitions scattered across the high ceilings, when she looked at Rhaenyra, she forgot all of that. Everything else fell away. All her worries were dampened; all her anxiety discarded, if only for a moment. It’s not like her nerves truly ever went away fully, but, when lavender eyes locked with hers and a sly smile tugged on perfect lips, Alicent could only think about how she was the manifestation of the 2nd movement of Beethoven’s 7th: joy and triumph amidst overarching melancholy.

It was stupid. It made her feel like an absolute fool. She’d never been this infatuated with anyone before, and she wasn’t sure what to do about it. Even deciding what to do about it felt like a monumental task, so she opted not to think about it at all. Well, she tried to anyway, but that didn’t always go as planned. 

As Alicent tossed her backpack into one of the lockers in the break room, she tried for what was perhaps the tenth time that week to clear her head. Work. She was at work now; she had to focus. Thinking about Rhaenyra wasn’t going to do her any good, not now. 

Shutting her locker a bit more forcefully than usual, she stood there for a moment, taking note of the still rapid rising of her chest. Allowing her eyes to slip closed, she focused on her breathing for a moment, willing her inhales to deepen until the struggling of her lungs slowed. She was here now; it was fine. Better late than miss her shift entirely.

When the thrumming of her heartbeat in her ears faded into a whisper, her eyes fluttered open once more. Taking one last long look at the break room, she pushed her way through the door to the floor. The gods must have smiled down on her that day because, by the time she reemerged, Criston was busy helping out a customer. Thank the Seven. Customers always served as a sufficient shield for any undesired conversations between the two of them; Criston was much more pleasant with customers than other employees. 

Opting not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Alicent slipped away into the stockroom to claim a few more minutes alone. Thursdays were shipment days and Criston typically avoided organizing the stockroom like the plague. She might as well make herself useful in hopes it would curb his impending attitude. 

Alicent made her way through the labyrinth of shelves towards the back of the room. Sure enough, there were corrugated boxes piled high in the corner. She got to work checking labels without further adieu. 

Despite the fact Kings’ Landing was firmly in the winter months, the storeroom remained as hot and stuffy as it had been during the summer. Although no one could be bothered to fix the air conditioning, there was no such problem with the heater. Of course. Alicent huffed out her annoyance as she pushed up the sleeves of her long-sleeve polo to her elbows. 

It had been Gwayne’s at one point. He had lent it to her years ago on a chilly day when she’d been forced to attend one of his football games. Despite the fact that it smelled like it had been stuck in the bottom of a gym bag for weeks, it was comfortable. She’d given it a thorough washing and neglected to return it. The striped shirt had grown on her. So much so that the bead of sweat trickling down the back of her neck made her wince internally. The droplets congregating on her upper lip caused her more grief, though, so she prioritized swiping at them with the back of her palm as she plucked a box labeled “black sleeveless jacket” out of the pile.

Sleeveless jacket, she grumbled internally, making her way over to the relevant shelf. It was a vest. Why they couldn’t just call it that was beyond her.

So, she got to organizing. And, thankfully, Criston didn’t disrupt her at all. For awhile, at least, she had her own space in the back of the store where she could just be. After a few minutes, she didn’t even mind the stuffy heater anymore. She could just let her thoughts wander. It was almost peaceful. Well, until…

“Hey.”

Alicent was so shocked that her gasp was far louder than the box in her hands hitting the floor. There, leaning casually against one of the shelves like she owned the place, was Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra, who was very much not supposed to be here. 

“Rhaenyra!” Alicent hissed, stepping around the discarded box to give the other girl a lighthearted shove. “What are you doing?”

The blonde didn’t so much as budge, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “There’s a family of five in there. He didn’t even notice.”

Criston had an uncanny knack for knowing everything that went on in this store. Even if he didn’t see, he may still find out. “You’re going to get me in trouble. Again.”

“I won’t,” Rhaenyra vowed, raising her pinky towards her in a silent offering. “I promise.”

Alicent eyed the finger suspiciously. She didn’t trust her at all. “Rhaenyra.”

“Alicent,” the other girl mimicked, wiggling the digit for emphasis. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. Unfortunately, she looked really, really pretty.

And well, Alicent was a sucker for a pretty girl.

A deep sigh escaped her throat as she halfheartedly locked her pinky finger with Rhaenyra’s. “You better not get me fired.”

Rhaenyra didn’t make any effort to let go of her finger as she grinned. “I would never do such a thing.”

She would, but probably not intentionally. Although, Alicent could think of worse things than getting fired from a job she hated for talking to a pretty girl. With a sigh, she reclaimed her own hand and bent to pick up the box. “Fine. Just try to keep it down.”

Rhaenyra, however, beat her to it, snatching the box off the floor before she could reach it. Straightening her shoulders to look Alicent in the eye once more, she grinned around the overflowing fabric peeking out from behind the cardboard. “Right, of course. Quiet is my middle name, actually.”

The blonde pointedly ignored Alicent’s disbelieving stare as she pushed past her to begin organizing the vests on the shelf. Their shoulders brushed each other ever so slightly as she went. Alicent swore she could feel the warmth of the other girl’s skin through her shirt sleeve. She quickly shook that thought away, though. That wasn’t a train of thought she dared to go down while only a room away from Criston Cole.

”You don’t have to do that,” she commented instead, stepping forward to retrieve the box from the other girl’s grasp. “It’s my job, not yours.”

While there was still a general air of mischief about her, Rhaenyra had been suspiciously helpful the past few days. Perhaps Alicent should have been appreciative of this change of heart. Instead, she found skepticism brewing in her stomach as she eyed the way the blonde’s fingers tighten around the box when she reached out.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Rhaenyra insisted somewhat dismissively, lavender eyes remaining intently fixed on the clothes in her grasp. “I’d get bored just standing here, anyways. Need something to do with my hands.”

Alicent watched her silently for a few moments, eyeing roaming over the other girl’s features. There was no way Rhaenyra didn’t notice the eyes following her out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t bother to meet Alicent’s questioning stare. Something surged in her, a competitive force that typically lay dormant, driving her to maintain her gaze until something budged. Nothing did, of course, because Rhaenyra was stubborn as a mule, but, eventually, a rosy hue dusted the peak of her cheekbones.

“Okay,” Alicent piped up abruptly, breaking through the sounds of rustling cardboard and sneakers squeaking against the cement floor. “What gives?”

Rhaenyra gave her a sideways glance, looking slightly startled at her outburst. “What do you mean?”

“You’re acting strange,” Alicent replied rather bluntly, raising an eyebrow as if daring the other girl to deny it. 

And, of course, she did.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rhaenyra asserted, although the pitch of her voice shot up towards the end of the sentence. “I’m just existing over here.”

“You’re helping me,” Alicent pointed out, eyeing the cardboard box in the blonde’s hand pointedly.

Rhaenyra glanced down at the box in her hands and shrugged. “I always help you.”

“No,” Alicent argued, “You don’t. More often than not, you make my job harder.”

Rhaenyra gasped dramatically, as if greatly offended by the accusation. “I do not!”

“Yes, you—”

“Alicent?”

The two girls froze as footsteps approached the storage room door. Brown eyes met lavender, flickering with alarm. For once, Rhaenyra looked equally as unsettled to be caught as she did. Alicent swore under her breath, “Shit.”

Luckily, the blonde snapped out of it faster than she did. Rhaenyra dove behind the nearest shelf just as the door swung open to reveal Criston’s clean shaven face.

The manager glowered as he scanned the room briefly until his eyes finally landed on her. “There you are. I was looking for you.”

Alicent remembered to allow air into her lungs briefly before replying, “Sorry. I thought I’d get a headstart on the new inventory.”

“Oh,” Criston commented, his expression shifting into mild surprise. He hesitated, glancing at the pile of boxes before nodding slowly. “Uh, yeah. That would be helpful, actually.”

Silence fell over them for a minute, and then two, as Alicent waited to be scolded for her tardiness. Thankfully, that never happened. He seemed… genuinely grateful. Weird.

“I guess… I’ll just get back to it then?” Alicent piped up, her voice almost a question.

“Right,” Criston said finally. “Yes. I’ll take the floor.”

And with that, the storage room door creaked shut once more. 

Alicent stared at the door blankly, almost in disbelief. “That was weird, right?”

“Very,” Rhaenyra agreed as she stepped back into the aisle once more. 

The two girls shared a look. Alicent wanted to continue their previous discussion, but it didn’t seem like the time or place. Criston was actually being nice to her for once; she wasn’t going to push it. “You should go.”

Rhaenyra hesitated as if she wanted to argue, but she eventually nodded and began to make her way to the exit. 

Alicent watched her go. It was for the best, but still… “Rhaenyra?”

Blonde hair swooshed over the other girl’s shoulder as she looked back at her. 

“Baelon Burger tonight?”

That familiar grin returned. “Of course.”

——

After a long day at school and a more draining work shift, Alicent couldn’t wait to crawl into bed and let herself slip into unconsciousness when work was over that day. However, there was one thing between her and eight hours of uninterrupted rest.

Rhaenyra’s pearly white Range Rover glimmered in the fluorescent street light, a mere thirty feet away from the mall entrance. It was the first thing Alicent noticed when she pushed through the door, drawing a low groan from deep within her chest. 

Ugh. She hated confrontation. Not that this was a confrontation, per say, but Rhaenyra was acting weird. That in itself was undeniable. The question was: why? She had just seen Aemma with her own two eyes days ago, surely the women couldn’t have gone downhill that fast. Maybe she got a bad grade on an assignment at school? That seemed unlikely, too; Alicent had never once heard Rhaenyra mention schoolwork. She couldn’t imagine the other girl being bothered by a bad grade.

Contemplating, she looked out at the car. Rhaenyra sat in the front seat with her head bowed, encouraging loose blonde strands to fall into her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed slightly as she looked down at her phone screen. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. 

It was for the best to get to the bottom of this, or Alicent tried to convince herself of that anyways. To clear the air. To make things feel a bit more normal than they had the past few days But, more than that, she just wanted to make sure Rhaenyra was alright.

Eventually, she made her way over to the car. Her feet slowed to a stop by the door, and she paused with her fingers flexing around the door. Breathe in, breathe out.

Although she hadn’t made any noise, some will of fate captured the blonde’s attention, drawing her gaze towards the window. Something shifted in pools of lavender when their eyes met. Alicent couldn’t decipher it, but it was paired with a small smile and welcoming wave of her hand. That thawed Alicent’s nerves enough for her hand to slowly peel open the door, settling on top warmed leather. Wait… warm? 

Her eyes flickered to the console. Oh. Rhaenyra had turned on the seat warmer for her. Heat threatened to flood her cheeks at the gesture, but she willed it away. Stop, Alicent. This is serious. 

“Hey,” Rhaenyra piped up, soft voice unknowingly demanding her attention with its warmth. “How was the rest of your shift?”

Alicent averted her glance awkwardly, hands fidgeting in her lap. “Uh, good. It was… good.”

“Nice,” the blonde commented. “Food time?”

“Actually, I was hoping to ask you something first.”

A blonde brow rose in her direction. “That sounds serious.” 

Alicent decided it was probably better if she cut to the chase. “Rhaenyra, can you be honest with me?”

“Of course.”

The response came so quickly it had Alicent snapping her head to the side to meet the other girl’s gaze. She looked unsettled but honest. Huh.

Emboldened by the encouragement, she shifted to face the other girl fully. “What’s wrong?”

Rhaenyra let out a long, dramatic sigh as she slumped against the car seat. “It’s stupid.”

“If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid, Rhaenyra,” Alicent assured slowly, watching a pout form on the other girl’s face. It was funny; even as they got to know each other better, Rhaenyra still seemed a bit larger than life in some ways. Even now that she’d seen living proof that Rhaenyra struggled like everyone else, she still pictured the other girl in a tier above the rest. Not even because of her inherent wealth—well, sort of because of her inherent wealth—but mostly because of Rhaenyra herself.

There was an air about her that felt untouchable. It was in the way she carried herself, the way she captured the attention of a room when she entered it. The way her smile created butterflies in Alicent’s stomach. Realistically, Alicent knew she wasn’t. Rhaenyra was human. Still, it was an image Alicent couldn’t shake, one of a renaissance statue towering over piles of clay.

All that to say, there was nothing Rhaenyra could do or say that Alicent would think was stupid. In her eyes, Rhaenyra was perfect.

The blonde grumbled ineligibly for a few more moments before finally stating, “You met my mom.”

Alicent cocked her head to the side in confusion. This was what had Rhaenyra acting so strangely. “Um, yes?”

“What did you think of her?” Rhaenyra asked in the quietest voice Alicent had ever heard from her.

Oh. She understood now.

“She was lovely,” Alicent replied, firmly holding the other girl’s uncertain gaze. It was the truth: Aemma was lovely. She was kind, gentle, and beautiful. Just like— “I see where you get it from.”

Well. She hadn’t meant to say that part out loud.

Rhaenyra blinked once and then twice. “Where do I get what?”

There was something in the weight of those words that had Alicent hesitating. Her response mattered, she realized. It was important. Not only to Rhaenyra, but to whatever this thing was that had been simmering between them for months. She could shrug it off, keep them in limbo for just a bit longer. It was tempting. In the end, though, it didn’t feel honest. And Rhaenyra promised to be honest… So she should, too, right?

Her voice dropped into a whisper, still unable to fully commit, as she answered, “I think you’re lovely, Rhaenyra.”

Alicent expected to be nervous by such a confession, to feel like she was left unsupervised in a pool of sharks. She didn’t, though.

Something passed between their locked eyes. Realization, understanding, and something else Alicent wasn’t ready to name yet. Finally, a loud exhale rushed past Rhaenyra’s lips. 

“I thought you would pity me,” she admitted at last, voice still softer than it had ever been. “I don’t want you to look at me differently.”

Ridiculous, Alicent thought. She didn’t think she could look at Rhaenyra with anything other than timid admiration (and perhaps occasional ire). “I don’t pity you, Rhaenyra. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

The blonde seemed to consider that for a moment before offering her a relieved smile. “I will be.”

That was all Alicent could ask for, she supposed. She didn’t know what else to say, so she offered the other girl a reassuring smile in return. 

Rhaenyra eased up further at that, sinking more comfortably in her seat once more. With only a small amount of hesitance, an empty palm lifted in her direction, an invitation. Alicent raised a suspicious eyebrow at the offering. Long fingers wiggled pointedly in response. A low giggle escaped Alicent’s lips before she found herself reaching over the console to intertwine her fingers with Rhaenyra’s outstretched ones, which greedily clasped around hers almost immediately. 

Silence washed over them as Alicent allowed herself to enjoy the light touch of Rhaenyra’s fingertips tracing the lines of her palm. Eventually, she could see Rhaenyra’s head lift out of the corner of her eye. Lavender eyes scanned her for a moment before inquiring, “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

Alicent barely heard the words, too distracted by the thumb rubbing circles into her palm. “Hm?”

“Go out with me.”

Alicent balked, suddenly lucid again as she finally deigned to look at the other girl. “What?”

“My parents were talking about how there’s some orchestra concert downtown tomorrow. My mom bought two tickets, the second that I mentioned you liked classical music.”

Alicent was sure her mouth was hanging wide open. An orchestra concert? That sounded like a literal dream. Alicent had gone once when she was little. Her mother had taken her to see The Nutcracker Suite by Tchalikovsky one Christmas, and she had been hooked ever since. Her father, though, thought it was a waste of money. 

An eager ‘yes’ sat on the tip of her tongue, but she restrained herself from agreeing immediately. It felt too good to be true. “Your mom is trying to set us up?”

Rhaenyra only shrugged. “Apparently, you made a good impression. And, technically, she’s not setting us up. We were doing just fine on our own.”

Heat flushed Alicent’s cheeks at the comment, but she deigned to acknowledge it. It was true: they were doing just fine on their own with whatever this thing between them was. The way Rhaenyra's hand was still holding hers like it was more precious than the diamond necklace bared on her collar bones was a testament to that. 

“And… you actually want to go?”

That was Alicent’s real question. Did Rhaenyra really want to spend several hours in a stuffy concert hall listening to what she consistently claimed was ‘wordless nonsense’? Surely not.

“I just asked you, didn’t I?” Rhaenyra answered with a teasing grin. 

“It doesn’t really seem like your thing,” Alicent pointed out, her fingers twitching nervously.

That seemed to do the trick. Finally picking up on her dilemma, the silver-haired tugged at their conjoined hands until Alicent’s went limp, allowing her to raise it into the air. A shiver ran down her spine when soft lips pressed against her skin. 

“Yeah, but it’s yours,” the other girl mumbled into the back of her hand before dropping it onto the console once more. “And you’re kind of my thing.”

Alicent’s breath stuttered at the blatant comment. That was the most upfront that Rhaenyra had ever been with her before, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Rhaenyra liked her. The logical part of her mind knew it; there was no other way to interpret their interactions over the past few months other than shameless flirting. Still, she had her doubts. No one had ever looked at her the way Rhaenyra did – with undeniable admiration. She hadn’t been sure what to do with it; she didn’t know how to process it. If it had come from someone else, maybe it would have been easier, but this was Rhaenyra. 

But now, she couldn’t deny it. Rhaenyra had all but said the quiet part out loud. You’re kind of my thing. 

Something twisted in Alicent’s stomach as she stared dumbly at the other girl. “Well, um. Then, uh, I–”

A smug smirk flashed in her direction. She paused for a moment to put a stop to it, shoving Rhaenyra’s chin towards the driver’s side window with her free hand. A quiet laugh blew against her palm. Gods.

“Yes,” Alicent breathed while her laugh still hung in the air like a windchime. “Yes, I’ll go out with you.”

When Rhaenyra turned to face her once more, she was grinning. “For a second there, I thought you were going to turn me down.”

Alicent couldn’t imagine a world in which she could say ‘no’ to Rhaenyra, but she played along anyways. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I annoy you?” Rhaenyra offered with a shrug. 

Giving with still conjoined hands a tug, Alicent huffed. “I’m literally in your car holding your hand, Rhaenyra.”

Curious fingers started to play with her own, as if they had just remembered about their existence. “You could’ve been here for the seat warmer.”

Alicent hummed thoughtfully as she turned her hand over to give the other girl access to her palm once more. “I do quite like the seat warmer.”

“Yeah,” Rhaenyra laughed as she traced the lines in Alicent’s palm with a finger. “I know you do.”