Work Text:
the past (i)
“I do love you,” Rhaenyra declared, feasting on the lemoncake Alicent had procured from the castle kitchens. There was nothing like flying on dragonback to work up an appetite.
There’s a brief second where Rhaenyra could have sworn she picked up on the faintest pained look across Alicent’s features but it faded as quickly as it came, and her friend was all smiles.
“Cease your mindless flattery,” she chided. “I’ve already sourced you your cake.”
“It’s far from mindless,” Rhaenyra declared as she brushed the crumbs from her riding breeches, so consumed with the task at hand that she missed her friend’s sigh.
the past (ii)
“She’s marrying my father,” Rhaenyra thought to herself bitterly as she stewed in bed, her tears long since wrung out. “It’s only natural I would feel like this.”
the past (iii)
The wine weighed heavy on her mind and tongue alike, and loose conversation was spilling faster than Rhaenyra would have liked. Unable to contain herself, she blurted out the question that had been on her mind since the morning, when Daemon had openly chuckled at the visiting Bard singing of the woes of a first love. “Well, who was your first love?” she demanded of her husband with a delicately raised eyebrow.
“Laena,” he answered promptly, then with a coy smile: “and yours?”
“Laenor,” she replied, then scowled at the smirk Daemon wasn’t even attempting to hide.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” she said.
“Your lack of honesty.”
“I’m being perfectly honest. Whatever about his preferences, I did love him, wholly and truly. Perhaps it wasn’t a traditional marriage, but I loved him nonetheless.”
“I do not doubt it. But he wasn’t your first love.”
The unspoken truth felt as heavy on Rhaenyra’s tongue as the rich wine felt in her stomach.
the past (iv)
“Well done my dear,” Rhaenyra said warmly, kissing her good-daughter on her curly head, the newborn babes cradled in the girl’s arms. A boy and a girl, the former with tufts of Baela’s silver locks, the latter’s dark hair a spitting image of her father.
“Thank you my Queen,” Baela said graciously. “If you would - I’d like to see my husband now.”
The door was flung open, and Jacaerys, who had evidently been standing with his ear pressed to the door burst in, barely containing his delight. “Baela,” he declared, and rushed to her side, planting a kiss of his own to her head, before admiring the twins she held.
“Beautiful,” he muttered, then glanced back at his wife and echoed his previous sentiment. “So beautiful.”
“Oh, send the lot in,” Baela declared, and Rhaenyra nodded at the nurses to confirm her good-daughter’s commands. “I’m bone-tired but I can make time for them. I know they’re eager.”
Soon, they were all cradled around the bed, Daemon beaming proudly at his daughter as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulders. Joff, Viserys and Aegon crowded around, all demanding to hold their new niece and nephew and each asking several questions at once.
“Was it sore?”
“Was there a lot of blood?”
“Will they have dragons?”
Baela laughed and ignored their interrogations, instead catching her sister’s eye. “You’ll be next,” she joked with a smirk. Rhaena looked mildly horrified, while Lucerys turned bright red, and looked as if he wished the ground would swallow him whole. Jacaerys hollered, gazing fondly at Baela with nothing short of the utmost adoration.
Rhaenyra took in the sight before her of her beloved family, and her heart ached for them, and the uncertainty of the future laid before them.
the past (v)
“Will there be a war?” Lucerys asked quietly. To an onlooker, he was the perfect image of a battle-ready prince, stoic and composed. But to Rhaenyra, who knew her dear boy so well, there was no mistaking the barest tremble in his tone, the slightest wobble of his lip.
“Oh sweet boy,” she said, drawing him in an embrace. “I do hope not.
the past (vi)
“You would do that?” Alicent demanded, something uncertain in her trembling tone. “Take your late father’s wife as your own, while he is not yet cold in the ground? To take her to bed as you take her late husband’s brother?”
Rhaenyra thought of what was at stake: the future of the country, the very peace her father had worked so hard to build, the well-being of her own family. She thought of Jace and Baela and their darling twins, Luke’s babe growing in Rhaena’s belly, the sweet innocence of her three youngest boys.
She thought of Alicent.
Her first love.
And she answered simply but truthfully, “Yes. If she would have me.”
When Alicent’s expression did not soften, Rhaenyra pressed on, finally ridding herself of the heavy burden of truth that had weighed on her all these years.
“Because I do love her. I always have.”
This time she did not miss Alicent’s tears.
the past (vii)
“Mother’s behaving like an idiot,” Aemond said with contempt. “Giving herself to our whore of a sister and her deranged husband so readily.”
Aegon grunted, somewhat in agreement, but was clearly more interested in the flagon of wine before him. Aemond resisted the urge to pour his brother’s wine over his stupid head.
“The dragon has three heads,” Helaena reminded him with a dreamy smile.
Aemond sighed.
the past (viii)
“I do hate you,” Rhaena grumbled, rubbing a hand over her swollen stomach. “The wedding is next week, and none of my best dresses have a hope of fitting me, all thanks to you. Should I show up for the Queen’s own wedding in rags?”
“Perhaps you should up in nothing,” Lucerys suggested cheekily, “I’m rather fond of you like that.”
“You’re a wretched thing”, Rhaena sighed but there was little malice in it. Indeed, she gladly accepted her husband’s helping hand to bring her to her feet, happily sunk into his embrace and returned his sweet kiss.
He was her wretched thing, after all.
the past (ix)
“She wants both of us?” Alicent whispered in shock, “at the same time?”
The courting gift Rhaenyra had instructed her husband to bring to their wife-to-be lay temporarily forgotten on the table, while Alicent came to term with this revelation.
Daemon’s usual smirk widened. “Don’t tell me you haven’t fantasised about it every night since you agreed to join us in marriage,” he said coyly, approaching with boldness, but surprisingly gentle as hr cupped her face in his hand.
Alicent’s reddened cheeks and failure to answer were all the confirmation he needed.
the past (x)
“Get up,” Aemond ordered coolly, and when his command was ignored in favour of Aegon turning to his side in search of more sleep, he gave into his oldest desire and poured the nearest flagon over his idiot brother’s head. At his side, Helaena giggled, clearly enjoying her husband’s suffering.
Aegon yelped like a startled cat, but was well and truly awake. “What?” he demanded, his eyes bloodshot and poison in his tone.
“Get up, you fool. Even Daeron is ready before you, and he travelled from Oldtown during the night. Surely you didn’t drink yourself into enough of a stupor to forget our dear sister is wedding our mother today? ”
“And so will come the song of ice and fire,” Helaena said sweetly, ignoring Aegon’s curses and taking both her brothers’ hands in her own.
the present (i)
Alicent is more beautiful than ever, Rhaenyra discovers quickly on their wedding night, as the three of them stumble into bed together, a tangle of eager limbs and soft skin, Rhaenyra and Daemon on either side of Alicent, the two women facing one another while Alicent is tucked against Daemon’s chest. Her body is no longer the lithe frame of a girl that which exists only in Rhaenyra’s memory but rather that of a woman’s. Her breasts are full and firm, her arse shaped perfectly, soft curves running up and down her plains. Rhaenyra squeezes her wife’s arse, delighting in the delicious sounds this act draws from her lover. Her hands make contact with Daemon’s groin in the process and it’s little surprise how hard his cock is, pressed against Alicent’s sweet form. Rhaenyra can’t get enough of the softness offered before her.
Neither can Daemon, gleefully running his hands over Alicent’s perfect tits, rubbing his thumb in calculated circles around her pink nipples, his hard cock rubbing against her arse.
“How do you want us?” he demands breathlessly of Rhaenyra, and her heart swells. Always so eager to serve his Queen.
“I want you to take her,” Rhaenyra decides, “let her ride your cock until you put a babe in her. I’ll ready her for you.”
“Please,” Alicent moans, her eyes dark with lust.
“On the bed,” Rhaenyra orders, and Alicent hastens to comply. She lies there, fully naked and propped up on her elbows.The jolt of arousal Rhaenyra feels at Alicent’s obedience is unexpected but a welcome surprise.
Alicent spreads her legs without being asked, and Rhaenyra almost laughs. Did she really think it would be so easy?
“Daemon,” she demands. “Get behind the Queen Consort and hold her hands by her side.”
Daemon hums in assent and positions himself behind Alicent, tucking her against his frame, trapping her arms by her side, as he plants sinful kisses along her neck and jawline.
Alicent moans so sweetly that Rhaenyra can’t resist rewarding her with a kiss, swallowing those sweet moans. She delights in the heady rush of power she feels, Alicent trapped so prettily between the pair of them. They’ve won the war without even drawing blood.
“Alicent,” she hears Daemon mutter against Alicent’s porcelain neck. “So beautiful for us. So good for your Queen and your Prince.”
Rhaenyra takes her time, mapping out the expanse of Alicent’s body with her mouth. She marks along her collarbone until there’s a pretty necklace of marks that will force Alicent to wear high cut dresses for at least a week. Satisfied with her work, she moves onto her wife’s breasts.
They sit perfectly, round and firm, a good handful with the prettiest pink nubs Rhaenyra has ever seen. She can understand why Daemon was so delighted with them.
She takes the left in her mouth first, mouthing at it then licking gentle sweeps of her tongue until she closes in on the nipple, nipping on it just enough to cause a sharp pain. Alicent’s cry of pleasure and pleas not to stop are all the encouragement Rhaenyra needs to move onto the next breast and give it the same treatment.
She continues her worship of Alicent’s body, planting kisses and across the softness of her stomach, her fingers digging hard enough into her wife’s hips to leave bruises. She’s vaguely aware of Daemon muttering all sorts of filth into Alicent’s ear, and Rhaenyra buries her smirk against Alicent’s stomach. She knows firsthand just how talented her husband’s tongue is, in more ways than one.
She skips over Alicent’s sex for now, even as the warmth calls to her. Alicent cries out when she realises Rhaenyra is ignoring her most pleasurable part, but her struggles are in vain, Daemon’s hold on her steadfast, even while he mouths at her slender neck, eliciting shivers of pleasure from her.
She nips bruises along Alicent’s thighs, occasionally letting her breath skirt between her legs, revelling in the teasing.
I could do this all day, she thinks wildly, but her resolve is quickly weakened.
“Rhaenyra,” Alicent cries, “please - please. I need you. Please fuck me.”
The vulgarity of the words coming from a mouth so pure has Rhaenyra’s head spinning. “Say it again,” she demands breathlessly.
“Please fuck me,” Alicent pleads, “my Queen.”
The cry of her title is all it takes for Rhaenyra to bury her face in between Alicent’s legs, feasting on her cunt.
It’s warm and wet, glistening even in the meagre candlelight. The taste is addictive, so very Alicent, and Rhaenyra can’t get enough. She spreads Alicent’s folds with her fingers, and expertly tongues her nub, while her fingers find their way inside her. She settles into a routine quickly enough, tonguing circles around the sweet nub of pleasure and fucking into Alicent with two crooked fingers.
Rhaenyra glances upwards, enjoying the sight of her wife’s pleasure, combined with those lovely sounds. Alicent’s cries are swallowed by Daemon grasping her jaw in hand, craning around to kiss her, his other hand - having abandoned his task of holding her in place - finding its way to her breasts, punching a nipple between his fingers.
She’s close, Rhaenyra can feel it, and accordingly, promptly untangles herself from Alicent’s legs, wiping the remnants of Alicent’s juices from her chin.
Alicent looks distraught at losing her pleasure, but before she can complain, Rhaenyra steals her from Daemon to kiss her hard and without restraint, delighting in the way Alicent is tasting herself on Rhaenyra’s tongue.
“On your back, husband,” she demands and Daemon readily complies. His cock is hard to the point of looking painful, and Rhaenyra is glad that she and her wife can help rid him of such a problem.
“Are you ready,” she asks Alicent, her tone shifting, as soft as she had been in their wedding ceremony and throughout their courtship. Whatever their dynamic while Rhaenyra is fucking her, Alicent is still her beloved.
“Yes,” Alicent replies without hesitation. “I want our husband to put a babe inside me.” Rhaenyra is hyper aware of the dampness between her own legs as these words, but elects to ignore it for now, deciding the babe is of the utmost priority.
“Well, get on with it,” Daemon demands, and Rhaenyra bends down to silence him with a kiss.
“Be patient,” she teases.
She helps guide her husband’s cock inside her wife, delighting at the groan that escapes him when he’s sheathed inside her delicious warmth.
“She feels wonderful, doesn’t she?” Rhaenyra says, wrapping her hands around Alicent’s waist so she can guide the pair through their coupling.
“Wonderful,” Daemon echoes, his voice strained, as he thrusts into her with abandon.
Without being asked, Alicent’s nimble fingers find their way between Rhaenyra’s legs, thumbing her nub and teasing a finger inside her, even as she rides Daemon’s cock.
“Good girl,” Rhaenyra praises, then has to bite back a moan that threatens to escape when Alicent’s thumb presses against her so perfectly.
“I’m going to finish,” she warns, and Alicent draws her in for an impassioned kiss, her dark eyes alight with desire.
“All of us together,” Alicent says, and Daemon’s groan in agreement is all they get before he spills inside her, propping himself up to kiss the pair of them even as his seed is still dripping out of Alicent’s cunt as she rides out her own pleasure atop of his cock. Rhaenyra’s pleasure comes mere seconds afterwards, by with her husband’s mouth against her own, and her wife’s clever fingers between her legs.
It truly is treatment fit for a Queen, Rhaenyra can’t help but think.
the present (ii)
“I hope I do have a babe,” Alicent says into the darkness of the bedroom several minutes later when they’ve all cleaned themselves up and are tucked underneath the bedsheets and up against one another.
“No matter if you don’t,” Daemon says simply. “We can always try again.”
Rhaenyra hums in agreement, and threads her hand with Alicent’s. Her husband is right. They can try again. They have endless days of love and peace stretched out before them, with their families and dragons, and perhaps even more children to come if they are lucky.
How lucky she was, she thought before sleep claimed her, to have spoken her own truth and prevented her family’s war.