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Rhaenyra doesn’t often attend these fancy galas, but that doesn’t stop Laena from inviting her. She’d finally said yes to this one, mostly because Mysaria caught a glimpse of the invitation and dropped unsubtle hints until she’d relented. It’s not that she doesn’t want to see Laena and Laenor, but it’s still a little strained; they and Driftmark are reminders of her, naturally, and Rhaenyra isn’t sure she’s ready for that emotional deluge. If she’ll ever be ready.
It’s been over two years and more than a thousand miles of separation and still, it’s hard to even think her name.
“Have you seen my small black purse?” Mysaria shouts, buried in her walk-in closet, and Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, frowning at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Pull it together.
“Which one?”
“The sparkly one.” She’s been a little bit crazed about this party for weeks, which has been both cute and annoying. Rhaenyra supposes it makes sense: Laena has only soared in popularity over the past few years and any function thrown at the Velaryon estate is bound to be teeming with local figures and plenty of celebrities, which Rhaenyra is inured to. Her girlfriend, however, is a model and aspiring actress, and this is exactly the kind of event that might be the key to the next step in her career. Rhaenyra would almost feel guilty for not orchestrating some meeting between her and Laena sooner if she wasn’t so afraid of Laena saying something embarrassing or too revealing about her past, of which Mysaria knows...enough.
“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down, babe,” Rhaenyra calls back with a rueful grin, leaning back to glance out of the bathroom. Mysaria groans in frustration, and Rhaenyra chuckles as she hears her stomping around, yanking drawers open and closing them again. “You look gorgeous, stop fussing.”
“You haven’t even seen my full outfit yet,” she accuses with a pout in her voice, and then, the triumph. “A-HA!”
Checking her hair once more—she wears it a bit shorter now, at Mysaria’s insistence—Rhaenyra half turns to run her hands down the front of her crisp suit jacket, satisfied. “Sounds like we can leave soon?”
Approaching footsteps herald her appearance, and Rhaenyra whistles low as Mysaria comes to pose dramatically against the open bathroom door, a sleek midnight grey dress hugging every curve of her tall, willowy frame. She smiles like a cat at her appreciative reflection in the mirror, brings a hand up to brush coquettishly beneath her chin.
“Like what you see?” A leg pokes out of a surprisingly high slit in her dress, and Rhaenyra does a double take, slow heat spreading through her.
“Oh, immensely,” she answers, turning to walk slowly towards her, boxing her slowly against the door as she smiles up at her, mischief dancing in her eyes. Bracing her hands against the door on either side of her head, Rhaenyra leans in to rub their noses together, dropping her voice low. “Thinking about showing you how much.”
Laughing, Mysaria lightly smacks the hand now snaking up her thigh, though her breath hitches when her lips find her throat and press open-mouthed kisses there. “Weren’t you just rushing me a minute ago?”
“I just remembered I don’t care,” Rhaenyra mumbles, placing another kiss on her neck, chancing a slow lick, a hint of teeth.
“Don’t you start, mister.” Knowing dark eyes bore into Rhaenyra’s, and she grins again when she groans, acquiesces with a nod. “It’s like you don’t even want to go.”
“I want to go,” Rhaenyra sighs, half-lying. But Mysaria’s already slipped away, thankfully too preoccupied to notice her ambivalence, and she feels some measure of guilt for how relieved she feels about it. Maybe if she’s so starry eyed over the glitz and glamour, which Laena is sure to provide, she’ll fail to notice Rhaenyra’s discomfort and she can get through the evening without incident.
Alicent isn’t quite sure how she got roped into this. She wasn’t even supposed to be on Driftmark this weekend. Or ever again, really.
“Maybe it’s a sign?” Criston suggests, from where he’s been perched on the couch for the past half hour, mindlessly scrolling television channels as Alicent changes her mind at warp speed about her outfit, frustrated by the limited options in her suitcase. “You said you haven’t seen your friends here in a few years, right? Seems like a great way to make the most use of an otherwise wasted trip.”
Her client was a demanding one, and exceptionally high-paying, and so Alicent planned to come and meet him for the contract signing as a gesture of respect. It wasn’t until she was about to board her flight from Oldtown that her client’s secretary informed her that his daughter’s baby was arriving early, and he would need to postpone. When she’d told Criston, intending to board the next flight home, her fiancé insisted on joining her instead, eager to see the place Alicent had spent a lot of her early life.
Alicent didn’t have it in her to say no, though her heart was racing uncomfortably by the time they’d hung up, her mind full of terrible images of running into Rhaenyra and having to talk to her, and worse, introduce them.
And then Laena had somehow gotten wind of her being back in the area, which wasn’t too surprising, honestly—and invited her to a gala she was throwing, to commemorate some anniversary for an organisation that Alicent’s already forgotten the name of. It’s hard to keep her thoughts from slipping away like water, too consumed with the anticipatory dread of being in the same city as Rhaenyra. Laena assured her that Rhaenyra never showed up to these parties, and while the promise seemed a paltry one, there was no convincing Criston they’d have a better time doing…literally anything else.
Resigned to her fate, but still half-hopeful that they’ll make it through the night unscathed, Alicent finally settles on an outfit. She is grateful, at least, that her thwarted plans necessitated dressier clothes, and that if all else fails and she’s a mess of nerves, she can take confidence in her appearance. Her dress falls flatteringly against her slender frame, a rich blue silk with intricate detailing, and she opts to leave her curls down and loose. It only takes one false start before she’s able to successfully apply her eyeliner, then subtle lip colour, and then she takes a steadying breath before pasting on a smile.
It works; she’s always been very good at it.
“Ready, darling?” Criston asks, and Alicent jumps, not having noticed him enter the bedroom. Criston’s lips curl upwards, though his brows crease slightly in concern as he crosses the room to wrap his arms around Alicent’s waist, dropping a slow peck onto her lips.
Alicent suppresses a sigh, returning the embrace. “Yes, we can go,” she says, aiming for normalcy, but Criston’s arms tighten around her, holding her close.
“What is it, Alicent?” Keen brown eyes try to find hers, and Alicent shakes her head, not letting their gazes catch, unsure of what she might reveal.
“I’m fine,” she says, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, patting his cheek twice. A touch of honesty will put him at ease. “It’s just a little strange, being back here. That’s all.”
“Being home,” Criston nods, something in his overly understanding tone rankling Alicent’s nerves. This time, he doesn’t resist when Alicent pulls away.
“This isn’t my home,” Alicent reminds him. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”
Rhaenyra had forgotten just how palatial this house was. Accepting the flute of champagne that’s offered as they step inside, Rhaenyra hooks an arm around Mysaria’s waist as she takes in the massive room of well-dressed people, tries not to feel too out of her element. The lights are dimmed and small candles flicker on the assorted clusters of tables, a soundtrack of throaty vocals layered onto a slow, thrumming baseline contributing to the somewhat sensual atmosphere. Mysaria downs her first glass quickly, and Rhaenyra follows suit, for different reasons. She feels uneasy, somehow, and is embarrassed at her own paranoia.
“Rhaenyra,” Mysaria says softly, turning in her arm to press her lips to her ear. “Look, behind me, don't turn your head. That’s Alys Rivers, right? Or am I crazy?”
Rhaenyra tries to look without looking, but she barely knows who she’s referring to. Someone in fashion, she thinks. There’s an imposing-looking woman holding court in the direction Mysaria had indicated, so this is likely less a need for confirmation and moreso a moment to pull herself together.
Smiling, Rhaenyra presses a kiss into her hair, rubs the small of her back. “Sure is. Go introduce yourself.”
Mysaria exhales in a shaky rush, putting her empty glass in Rhaenyra’s hand. “You don’t mind?”
“Nah. I’ll find us more drinks.” Rhaenyra accepts a brief kiss, smiles when Mysaria pulls away and watches her confident approach, shaking her head ruefully. A few heads nearby turn to watch her pass and then swing back to Rhaenyra, visibly impressed. It’s a phenomenon she’s used to, and it never fails to make her a little smug.
Wandering away, Rhaenyra locates the bar at the back of the room and makes her way over, until she’s intercepted by Laena, who stops and gapes at her as if she’s just seen a ghost.
“Hi?” Rhaenyra says, puzzled at her reaction.
“You’re here!” Laena blurts, her eyes widening, before her mouth spreads into a fond grin. “Get over here, stranger.”
Rhaenyra chuckles into the tight hug, only somewhat caught off guard at the affectionate kiss pressed to her cheek as they part. “Don’t sound so surprised; I told you I was coming, didn’t I?”
“Yes, I suppose I just didn’t know you meant it this time,” Laena says ruefully with an inclined eyebrow. And then she opens her mouth and takes a breath.
“Laena,” her assistant says in a rush as he appears out of nowhere, nodding politely to Rhaenyra before turning back to Laena with a lowered voice. “You asked me to tell you when they arrive.”
“Right,” Laena sighs, then looks over at Rhaenyra, visibly torn about something, but now pressed for time. “Okay,” she says decisively after an odd moment, “I’m being called away. I hope you enjoy yourself tonight, Rhaenyra. It’s good to see you.”
Somewhat amused by Laena’s bizarre behaviour, Rhaenyra murmurs a polite response as the pair rush away. The pressures of hosting, probably. Continuing to the bar, Rhaenyra finds an open spot and perches there, waiting for one of the bartenders outfitted in black to catch her eye. A flash of auburn somewhere to her left makes her heart lurch into her throat, but she’s been down this road before, way too many times, so she’s not going to stoop to the level of actually looking.
It’s never her, anyway. Hasn’t been for a long time, and likely never will be again.
Maudlin already. Rhaenyra laughs under her breath a little at her own melodrama, shoots a winning smile at the cute bartender who finally notices her standing there. She orders two gin and tonics, and settles back to wait as a group of strangers on her left move away from the bar, chattering loudly.
And there is Alicent, drumming her dainty fingers against the edge of the bar, scanning the array of bottles along the back wall in cool appraisal.
Rhaenyra is frozen to the spot, wanting to drag her eyes away but she can’t, can’t stop drinking in the sight of her ex-lover and former best friend, looking exactly the same and not the same at all.
Alicent accepts her drink—since when does she drink brown liquor?—and tosses it back, inhaling and exhaling deeply as she puts down the empty glass, and then she turns and sees Rhaenyra, eyes going comically wide.
For several long moments, neither of them say anything, struck dumb as the party continues noisily around them.
“What are you doing here?” Rhaenyra tries to ask, but it only comes out as “Alicent,” so quiet and plaintive that she has to clear her throat, try again. “What—“
“Two gin and tonics?” the bartender asks loudly, and Rhaenyra looks over at her, startled, before she remembers what she’s talking about.
“Yeah, that’s me,” she says stupidly, turning back to make sure Alicent doesn’t disappear again. “And another bourbon for my friend here.”
“Her ex,” Alicent corrects with a silken smile, and Rhaenyra winces.
“Right,” the bartender says slowly, blinking. “So…I’ll be right back with that.”
When she’s gone, Alicent looks down at her feet, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You didn’t have to say that,” Rhaenyra counters, wondering if she’s dreaming. Alicent won’t look at her, which isn’t surprising, but it is frustrating. Though, maybe that’s for the best, after all. “So, what are you doing? Did you...move back?”
That’s what gets those sharp brown eyes on her, and the instant wave of heat has Rhaenyra picking up her drink and taking a long sip. “No,” Alicent snaps, the tone of her voice so achingly familiar that Rhaenyra drinks some more about it. “I—it’s none of your business, actually. Why are you here? Laena said you never—”
“Ah,” Rhaenyra breathes, remembering Laena’s uncharacteristic fluster, followed by strange resignation. “Yes, apologies for being here when I said I would. You always did have a problem with that.”
She deserves Alicent’s noise of disgust, and isn’t surprised to hear it. “Fuck you, I’m not doing this with you right now. Thank you,” Alicent nearly snarls to the poor bartender, who looks eager to be rid of them as she nods graciously and moves away. Alicent lifts her drink in sarcastic cheers in Rhaenyra’s direction. “See you in another two years, if we’re very unlucky.”
“Wait, wait, Alicent,” Rhaenyra sighs, grabbing her wrist unthinkingly, nearly spilling the contents of her glass. “Shit, sor—”
“Brute,” Alicent hisses, snatching her hand back as she flushes a deep red, pinning Rhaenyra with a fierce glare that takes her breath away. “Don’t touch me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—please, don’t go.” Rhaenyra huffs and rubs at her face quickly, glancing around them to ground herself in her surroundings, before she can make a bigger ass of herself. Miraculously, Alicent does not storm off, though she looks to be heavily considering it, taking a slower sip of her drink with deeply furrowed brows. “I didn’t expect this, I’m a little—uh, in shock right now.”
Alicent makes a quiet sound that sounds like a grudging agreement, and Rhaenyra can’t take it anymore.
“Can you look at me?” Rhaenyra hates the way her voice sounds, all tense and frustrated, but she’s having some trouble regulating it, or figuring out how she’s supposed to be acting right now. I should be walking away.
Alicent’s expression folds in on itself a bit, and she hastily turns her head away from Rhaenyra, shakes it. “Just say what you have to say.”
I miss you. I can’t believe you’re here right now, next to me. Don’t leave me again.
“How are you?”
Alicent laughs, clamps her mouth shut, gives Rhaenyra a strange look. “How am I?”
Rhaenyra is drinking too fast, but she isn’t sure how else she’s supposed to survive this, so. “I haven’t seen or spoken to you in almost two and a half years, it seems like a fair question.”
Instead of answering, Alicent finishes her drink, and then makes restless circles with her empty glass on the bar, finally looking at Rhaenyra a little more closely. “Are you still with,” she hesitates, “M—”
“Yeah,” Rhaenyra interrupts, not wanting to hear her name out of Alicent’s mouth right now, and maybe not ever. Unease snakes down her spine at the thought, and she finds herself quickly glancing at Alicent’s left hand, releasing a sharp breath when she finds her fourth finger adorned with an elegant but simple ring. That may or may not be a recurring nightmare of hers, but Rhaenyra clings onto the fact that it doesn’t look like a wedding band, perhaps only an engagement ring or promise ring, for now anyway. She tries not to think about it any longer. It’s fine. “And Criston?”
Alicent hums in agreement, catching Rhaenyra’s eye before looking away again, almost like she’s bashful about it, and Rhaenyra doesn’t know how to interpret that other than desperately wishing they were somewhere less public. It’s a stupid, futile wish, especially with their respective partners somewhere in this room, and the mess of their broken, posthumous relationship scattered like so many bones between them.
“Can we speak in private?” Rhaenyra asks anyway, because she’s always been stupid about Alicent, and seeing her in the flesh is making her remember just how much.
Alicent is shaking her head before she’s done speaking, looking grim and determined, though when she turns to look at Rhaenyra, her eyes are pleading. “Don’t make this harder than it is.”
“Why haven’t you walked away from me yet?” Rhaenyra demands, daring to come closer, dropping her voice as she quickly scans the area again, before her eyes return to Alicent, who hasn’t moved away. She’s just watching Rhaenyra. And then her teeth worry at the corner of her lower lip, the same spot that Rhaenyra dreamt of tasting for years before finally being given the privilege, and Rhaenyra’s stomach drops as she remembers why, maybe, this distance between them was necessary.
“I don’t know,” Alicent says eventually, when Rhaenyra’s heavy gaze finally leaves her lips. “Why haven’t you?”
Rhaenyra rubs at her mouth, feeling ready to burst out of her skin, her laugh an uncomfortable, shaky thing as it climbs uneasily from her throat. “Traditionally, I’ve never been as good at that as you.”
“Ouch,” Alicent says blandly, but she’s smiling a little. “How many more of those do you have in you tonight?”
“Time will tell,” Rhaenyra returns fluidly, raising a conspiratorial eyebrow. “I’m very bitter.”
Maybe it’s too much honesty, and Rhaenyra wants to swallow the words right back down, but Alicent actually laughs a little, because she’s always been a mean little shit. She covers her mouth briefly before letting her hand fall away, biting her lips into her mouth to quell her sudden mirth. “Fine.”
“Fine?” Rhaenyra echoes, confused, but then there’s a gentle tugging on the bottom of her suit jacket in the direction that Alicent is walking rapidly—and Rhaenyra’s feet are carrying her through the crowd, pulse racing as she’s led through a door into a much quieter and more deserted hallway. The sudden vacuum of sound feels drastic enough for her own heartbeat to be audible, even more so when Alicent finds an unlocked door and pulls her behind it, closing it behind them.
It’s some kind of small parlour, mostly shrouded in darkness, save for the silver moonlight that beams softly in through sheer curtains. Alicent is not touching her; she looks rather angry, actually, and Rhaenyra feels her phone vibrate in her pocket. Reaches back to silence it, and the way Alicent’s eyes meet her makes it easier to ignore the answering twinge of guilt.
“How long are you staying?” Rhaenyra asks, figuring that out of the thousand and one questions she has, this is as good a place as any to start.
“We’re leaving tomorrow.”
Rhaenyra nods, unprepared for the way her chest feels like it’s being splintered open, and reaches for Alicent’s hands before she can help herself, inhaling tremulously when cool fingers instantly entwine with hers, squeezing once before retreating.
“Gods, Rhaenyra,” Alicent whispers despairingly, shoving Rhaenyra lightly in the chest, then curling her fingers in, bringing her back. Her eyes are blazing and wet as she shakes Rhaenyra once, forceful. “I was hoping I wouldn’t see you. I knew if I did we would—”
“We would what?” Rhaenyra demands, closing her hands around Alicent’s, needing to touch her, to ground this impossible moment in reality. She’s moving forward without being fully aware, until Alicent’s back hits the door, and Rhaenyra’s hands are on Alicent’s clothes, sweeping down her chest and back up to her shoulders, mapping out the lines of her body that she’d once taken for granted, needing to re-commit them to memory. She can’t think past this, whatever this is, the implications too dire to consider. “Say it.”
Trembling hands frame Rhaenyra’s jaw, sliding upward and tangling into her hair, then tugging. Rhaenyra throws caution to the wind and leans in, moaning softly when Alicent abruptly turns her head, so that Rhaenyra’s lips collide with her cheek. It’s the contact with Alicent’s soft, overheated skin that brings Rhaenyra somewhat back to reality, but the scent of her pheromones and perfume sends her mind right back into a tailspin.
“We shouldn’t,” Rhaenyra mumbles, shaking her head, even as her hands find Alicent’s hips and tighten, pulling them flush together. Alicent shudders, fingers scraping at the back of Rhaenyra’s neck, the path of her fingernails leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. Her mouth is open and panting, so close, and Rhaenyra burns to taste it, and she never, ever thought she would be this person.
“I know,” Alicent says, nodding, frantic, arching up to press herself closer, gasping when Rhaenyra’s mouth finds her in a fleeting slide of parted lips, too glancing and tentative to be a proper kiss. Alicent’s voice is hushed, a little panicked, as she clings to Rhaenyra with needy hands. “I know, I know, but—”
“Tell me to stop, Alicent,” Rhaenyra warns in a low growl, slipping one hand into the folds of Alicent’s dress to slide it slowly up the back of a thick thigh, mouthing hungrily at her neck. “Baby, please tell me to stop...”
“Fuck,” Alicent gasps, ragged, and yanks Rhaenyra into a heated kiss, open-mouthed and desperate. All of Rhaenyra’s higher brain functions cease at the first touch of their tongues, and then she’s in helpless freefall, shoving Alicent’s dress further open and lifting her thigh so that Alicent curls her leg around Rhaenyra’s hip and they can grind together properly, releasing twin moans of pleasure. Alicent is whining so sweetly into her mouth that Rhaenyra feels like she’s dying, needing to touch and taste her all over and acutely aware that they don’t have the luxury of time.
So she pours it all into the kiss instead, devouring Alicent’s mouth with a single-minded focus that would be a little shameful if Alicent didn’t match her intensity, biting and sucking at Rhaenyra’s lips as if she too can’t believe this is happening after so much time spent dreaming about what it might be like to be together in this way again. If it would feel the same, or if they’d have somehow lost the wild electricity that’s always existed between them, snuffed out by time, distance, circumstance. The notion feels laughable now, but Rhaenyra’s never felt less like laughing.
Alicent doesn’t realise how loud she’s becoming until Rhaenyra’s fingers are in her mouth, stifling her growing cries as they grind furiously against each other. She could come like this, she’s going to come like this, but she can’t, because that would mean that soon this is over and they have to think about After. She shoves a hand between them to palm at Rhaenyra’s cock, throbbing at the shape and heft of her through her pants, wanting to be stuffed full of it so badly that she aches. Rhaenyra moans against her mouth, eyes half lidded and completely dilated in need, pressing herself more insistently into Alicent’s firm touch.
“Alicent,” she croaks, scraping her teeth across her chin, careful not to leave a mark. “C’mon, I—”
“Shh.” After stealing another kiss, Alicent sinks to her knees, opening Rhaenyra’s trousers enough to draw her out, keeping her eyes on Rhaenyra’s face as she slowly swallows her leaking length with a low, satisfied hum. Rhaenyra curls a hand into her hair and braces her other against the door at Alicent’s back, breaths coming harshly, heavy and thick in the quiet room.
“Oh, fuck, oh, baby,” Rhaenyra babbles, when she can’t take it any more, can’t hold the words in any longer, always so eager to spill the dizzied stream-of-consciousness filth that Alicent’s tongue would coax out of her when she did this. It’s something Alicent used to crave, the flood of affirmations and praise without the obligation to reply, not when her mouth is stuffed full like this. Old habits die hard, and Alicent’s eyes slam shut when Rhaenyra continues in a choked whisper, face contorted in agonised pleasure as her thick cock starts to slip down her throat. “So good, Alicent, always so good—missed this, missed you—”
Her body aflame, Alicent moans low, tears streaking down her cheeks as her throat is lovingly abused by Rhaenyra’s deep, needy thrusts. There’s drool escaping the corners of her mouth and the grasp Rhaenyra has on her hair is tight and perfect, keeping her firmly in place. Keening softly, Rhaenyra pets at her cheeks, her throat, feeling herself moving in that tight channel of heat, thighs trembling as Alicent pulls off for a moment, gasping. A thick line of saliva stretches from Rhaenyra’s messy cockhead to Alicent’s lower lip, which Rhaenyra presses open with a thumb, smearing it with the pad of her finger.
“So beautiful, Alicent—”
“Gods," Alicent whimpers, her voice little more than a rasp, and sucks Rhaenyra back down before she can think too hard about it, jerking Rhaenyra’s shaft quickly and opening her mouth wide, expectant and hungry.
Looking down at her with a strangled cry, Rhaenyra’s hips jerk and then she’s coming, pumping her release into Alicent’s waiting mouth, groaning a hoarse litany of Alicent Alicent Alicent as those wonderfully swollen lips close over the head again, sucking the cum out of Rhaenyra until she goes weak in the knees, has to drag Alicent off. Alicent is completely dazed, breath huffing out of her, one strong breeze away from orgasm—and she gasps as Rhaenyra hauls her gently to her feet, turning her around so her cheek presses against the door, running her hands up Alicent’s thighs and leave kiss after needy kiss against the soft skin of her back.
“Hurry up,” Alicent moans, shaking as Rhaenyra peels down her underwear until her cunt is bare, biting her lower lip hard as Rhaenyra steadies her thighs and sinks her thick, wet cock into her with a single stroke. Alicent won’t last, there’s no way, and especially not when Rhaenyra shoves two fingers into her mouth, getting them wet before she’s massaging at Alicent’s clit with them. Alicent’s legs shake as she widens her stance, needing more, and then Rhaenyra is rutting into her with a frenzy, trapping Alicent between the two overwhelming sensations as she rocks forward and backward, desperate for both.
“Like that,” Alicent gasps out, despite her best efforts, “Fuck, Rhaenyra, I’m gonna, I’m—”
Rhaenyra moans encouragingly, fucking into Alicent faster and deeper with glazed eyes, and Alicent’s head falls forward against the door with a loud thunk as she squirts, coating Rhaenyra’s cock with the juices while muffling her noises into the hand clamped tightly over her mouth. Rhaenyra keeps thrusting into her greedily, chasing her second release, and continues massaging Alicent’s tender clit until they both cum again and it becomes too much. Rhaenyra empties her load inside Alicent’s cunt before pulling out slowly as Alicent sucks in air, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Rhaenyra takes off Alicent’s sheer, ruined underwear and pockets it, before hastily attempting to fix the fall of Alicent’s now-lopsided dress.
“Just leave it,” Alicent says finally, smacking Rhaenyra’s hands away before turning to face her, bringing her closer, sharing a kiss that's meant to stop time, to obliterate the inevitability of their separation, the moment they step outside of this temporary sanctuary and back into the real world. As if on cue, Alicent’s phone begins to ring, and she doesn’t need to look at it to see who’s calling her, wondering where she is.
“This was bad,” Rhaenyra says quietly, nipping at Alicent’s ear, her warmth and clinginess both a needed balm and a heartbreaking reminder of all she’d lost, and was getting ready to lose all over again. Alicent squeezes her eyes shut against the dangerous hot pressure behind them, burying her face in Rhaenyra’s neck and inhaling deep, while she still can.
“Do you regret it?”
Rhaenyra laughs, and it’s the most miserable sound Alicent has ever heard.
“Ask me that in an hour.”
“We have to go, Rhaenyra,” Alicent says, throat closing up, breath hitching when Rhaenyra frames her face in those big hands, staring at her with eyes she’s known her entire life. “Don’t look at me like that, we both need to go before—”
“I know. I know. Just—” Rhaenyra presses kiss after kiss against Alicent’s lips, so tender that Alicent feels drunk with it, tasting herself on Rhaenyra’s tongue as precious time slips away. And then Rhaenyra is gone, turned away from Alicent as she takes in a slow, shuddering breath, burying her face in her hands for several agonising seconds.
Alicent looks away, jaw clenched tightly as she fixes her clothing, combs her fingers through her hair. When Rhaenyra turns back to her and nods, appearing put together again, Alicent turns to open the door behind her without another word, and they both hesitate, eyes drawn to each other in the shadowed hallway.
“You go,” Alicent says, voice clipped, looking down as she brushes imaginary lint from her dress. “Find her, I’ll come in later. Make your excuse a good one.”
“Okay, but Alicent—”
“Go, Rhaenyra,” Alicent pleads with wet eyes, lip trembling a bit, before she gets herself back under control. “This can’t be more than it was, and you know that.”
Nodding once, Rhaenyra’s eyes bore into Alicent’s a moment longer, a bitter, reluctant farewell, and then she’s gone, taking all of her warmth with her. There’s a brief moment of raised voices and music from the ballroom as Rhaenyra re-enters, her silhouette backlit in flickering yellow light. And then the darkness returns and Alicent is alone again, with a churning gut and newly broken heart.