good luck, babe! - somebodytoundress (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

“Alicent—Alicent, Miss Hightower! Is it true you’ve separated from Criston Cole?” The camera flashes block out the faces belonging to the questions. Alicent keeps her breath steady in a dress she practically had to be sewn into. It was a black cinched waist with nothing but dark lace covering half of her breasts while the rest spilled over the top—which, she had to admit, looked great. Even if she couldn’t breathe. She could hardly focus on the questions.

“I’m here promoting my film, not my divorce,” Alicent shoots back before she can help herself, a controlled grin on her face so she isn’t faced with any undesirable photos of herself on Getty Images. She’s already dealing with enough of a PR nightmare following her separation and divorce, the last thing she needs is an unflattering photo making the rounds on Twitter.

Her publicist ushers her through the red carpet and Alicent continues on, picking up the heavy black skirt of her dress with one hand while her co-star Harwin offers his arm. She groans, leaning up to whisper in his year, “If one more person asks about my husband, I am going to take very drastic measures.”

“Don’t kill yourself, they’ll make a sh*tty biopic about it in five years if you die now,” Harwin encourages, the two of them chuckling softly as they begin to stop for interviews. He squeezes her hand and sets her free to handle them on her own.

“Miss Hightower! Four favorites with Letterboxd?” Alicent hears, which causes relief to flood through her. A Letterboxd interview she can do, but if one more TikTok journalist comes up to her asking about her soon-to-be ex-husband she may seriously consider asking if her assistant remembered to pack her handgun.

“Hi, how are you?” Alicent asks, glowing as she reaches the interviewer. “What’s your name?”

“Charlene, nice to meet you, Miss Hightower. Not doing so bad, how about yourself?” the interviewer—Charlene, asks her, a warm smile on her face after having been asked her name. Half the time Alicent talks to these carpet interviewers, they seem so honored just to be treated with a speck of human decency, it almost makes her pity them. “Got four favorites for us?”

“How could I possibly choose just four?” Alicent laughs, plainly ignoring the question about her wellbeing. Just about everyone who follows Hollywood right now knows Alicent’s personal life is an absolute mess. It’s a miracle she made it to this premiere at all—but when it’s a major lead role with one of the most respected directors in the industry right now, she sort of has to attend. “Well, I can’t promise mine will be as pretentious as Harwin’s likely will be—that’s a joke, I’ll put real money on him mentioning Monte Christo in his interview. Anyway, I’ll give you a favorite—my pretentious answer is of course, La Chimera, that came out last year, instant classic for me. Uptown Girls, it’s a little silly, but it gets me every time, Brittany Murphy was such a star.”

“Of course!” Charlene supplies, her face lighting up. “Two more for us?”

Alicent thinks on it for a moment, well, pretends to as if she hasn’t had these answers lined up ever since these interviews started getting posted. “A Room With a View, the 80’s one with a very, very young Helena Bonham-Carter is just magnificently romantic—a lot of the imagery of both that film and La Chimera actually inspired a lot of Sunsetters, I’m sure viewers will see plenty once they get their hands on the film. And—let’s do a fun one? But I’m A Cheerleader. Classic satire, beautiful romance, I can’t not love it.”

“Great picks, thank you so much for your time, I’ll let you be on your way,” Charlene lets her go with a smile and Alicent shakes her hand before moving further down the line.

Another interviewer stops her, another young woman though Alicent isn’t entirely clear on what company she’s with. They get introductions out of the way and soon they are onto the questions. “Alicent, when this film premiered at Cannes, it was awarded with the Palme D’or, one of the most prestigious awards in film, and you yourself snagged the Best Actress title at Cannes as well, what was that like?”

“Just an honor, truly,” Alicent answers with a steady voice, shaking her head slightly and struggling to take a deep breath in her dress. “I mean, shooting this film was one of my favorite experiences on a set—even if most of it was just me lounging in Italy, it truly was a magnificent working environment. Luca is a mastermind and I really do hope we work together again because I can honestly say this is one of my favorite films I’ve ever worked on. I do hope the general audiences love it as much as Cannes did and as much as I do, that’s all I can ever ask for.”

“Rumor has it you’ll be starring in Luca’s next film as well, right? Alongside Rhaenyra Targaryen?” Alicent smiles at the question even though she pales. She remembers being absolutely delighted that Luca wanted to work with her again, even though she wasn’t surprised after they snagged the Palme D’or together. What had surprised her was the other name on the call sheet—Rhaenyra Targaryen. They had been friends once upon a time, but truthfully they hadn’t spoken in years. There hadn’t been some big blow up or fight, but somehow that almost made it feel worse, made Alicent feel as though she had failed somehow. In reality, their ending had been quite simple. Rhaenyra was working mostly on the stage in London, refining her theater career. Alicent had taken off and now spent most of her time in Hollywood. Though she split her time between Los Angeles and New York, it had been years since she last spent any substantial time in London.

When she didn’t answer the question, the interviewer continued, “You two are old friends, are you not?”

“Yeah, yes, we are,” Alicent clears her throat before she answers, trying to look less like a deer in headlights lest her publicist chew her out for not having a sparkling answer. “I can’t say much about the film itself as Luca likes to keep his plots under wraps until we make headway with production, but yes, Rhaenyra and I are starring in the film together. I’m looking forward to it, truly.”

Alicent was not looking forward to it. Production started next month and they hadn’t even done a chemistry read because Alicent was too terrified to face her. Not that they would have any problem with chemistry—Alicent knew this for a fact. She and Rhaenyra had never lacked in that department and that in and of itself was precisely the problem. A camera flashes in her face and brings her back to reality.

“Now, just because everyone is dying to know, how much truth is there to the divorce rumors?”

Alicent can hear distant screaming in the back of her mind. Her hands twist nervously in front of her, smoothing out the skirt of her dress that doesn’t have a single crease in it as she tries to formulate an answer.

(“You know you’re never going to get away from me. File all the divorce papers you want, my name will always be a part of yours.”

Alicent draws a weary breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We f*cked on a film set ten years ago and thought we could get a marriage out of it. I don’t think anyone will think much of us unless they want to log our sh*tty mid-budget late 2000s film on Letterboxd, Criston. Sign the goddamn papers. I’m done.”)

Truthfully, Alicent wasn’t sure what was the final straw. Maybe it was the indifference Criston treated her worth—cruelty would almost be preferable to indifference; maliciousness preferable to carelessness. If he hated her, at least she would know he thought of her at all. She wasn’t sure why she needed the divorce as badly as she did. Maybe it was because of the fact she could hardly remember why she married him in the first place. They didn’t like each other, they never spent time together, they hadn’t had sex in years. She just woke up in the night, looked over at his sleeping form, and decided it had been enough. They’d been together so long, she and Rhaenyra had still been friends when they met. The thought almost makes her smile.

(“Don’t tell me you’re f*cking your co-star, Alicent, that’s a rookie mistake,” Rhaenyra chastises over empty drinks between the two of them. They were out in their favorite bar, neither of them famous enough to be recognized. It was one of the last few peaceful nights out Alicent ever had.

“We’re not just f*cking, we’re dating, it’s what adults do, Rhaenyra,” she jokes, not missing the flash of hurt across Rhaenyra’s face. She takes another sip of her beer to swallow down the guilt. “Besides, I’m not even sure it’ll go anywhere.”)

Good Men Die Young had become a box-office hit both domestic and international—Alicent and Criston’s relationship only adding to the flurry of press and promotion for it meaning the two of them had become irrevocably trapped, whether they wanted to continue dating or not. It was a marriage founded on glorified Stockholm Syndrome. Ten years later, Alicent was ready to be her own person.

“Miss Hightower?” the interview asks her again, bringing her back down to earth.

“Criston and I have been separated for months,” Alicent answers honestly, tired of dancing around the truth. It was already splashed across every magazine and film Twitter account anyway. It was about time it came from her own mouth. “And yes, we are getting divorced. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about the film that’s about to premiere that I’m starring in, if that’s all right with you?”

@FilmUpdates: Alicent Hightower breaks silence on divorce rumors at the premiere of her new film ‘Sunsetters.’ “Criston and I have been separated for months.”

‘@alicentsslu*t: MY WIFE FREE FROM THE MARRIED ALLEGATIONS CONFIRMED LESBIANS NEVER LOSE!’

‘@hghtwrs: not to be parasocial but we all knew this was coming right likeeee but im a cheerleader in her letterboxd four and divorcing her husband i said oh im sure’

Alicent tosses her phone aside after scrolling through Twitter on her burner account. Her publicist tells her that being on social media is never a good idea, but the control freak in her needs to have a finger on the pulse at all times. So, she keeps an account where she primarily follows film accounts that report the silly cinema news that won’t get picked up by the news outlets her publicist follows. Almost the moment her phone hits the cushion of her couch, it lights up with a call from said publicist.

“Hit me, Marcie,” Alicent sighs, pulling her legs up onto the couch and wrapping an arm around them. In front of her, she has the first season of Sex and the City playing on a low volume. Mr. Big is wearing Armani on Sunday and Carrie is demystified all over again. Alicent has seen this episode so many times she’s lost count.

“It seems you’ve won most of your fans in the divorce, so we don’t need to work out a custody agreement,” Marcie jokes, trying to keep her tone light simply because they both know how hard the divorce has been on Alicent. Legally, Criston hasn’t fought it, which is a small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless. Emotionally, though, he’s been ripping her to shreds. After months, she’s had to block his number and communicate only through their lawyers. A fact that will probably make her look like a nightmare if it’s ever leaked to the press. “Honestly, though, you have nothing to worry about on a press front. I mean, Criston has been a known asshole for years, most film fans in the key demographics already hate him and love you. The only people I think that have anything negative to say are the above fifty demographic and considering you make dreamy arthouse films, I don’t think they were ever really your audience in the first place.”

“How’s Sunsetters doing?” Alicent asks, not bothering to respond to Marcie’s vain attempt to make her feel better. As much as she appreciates the support and is glad to have it, she wouldn’t be overly bothered if she didn’t. She’s at a point in her career where her relationships are strong enough that the court of public opinion can only hurt her a little bit. She and her agent have a handful of directors in their pockets that are safe choices should she ever be blacklisted. Even so, she’s really glad she doesn’t have to worry about such a thing.

“Critics are raving and we’re inching towards 50 million for our domestic opening weekend which for an indie directed by Luca Guadignino, that’s practically one billion. Early reviews are already tapping you for a best actress nomination, but we all saw that coming the moment you got the Palme D’or in the bag,” Marcie rattles off numbers and accolades and Alicent settles down on her couch, more focused on the television episode than the phone call. Big just introduced Carrie to his mother as a friend. It’s devastating. “I know we’re still a month away from production, but with your divorce being top of the news cycle right now, I think we need to start pushing you and Rhaenyra as the new duo rather than later.”

“Push what?” Alicent sits up, suddenly paying attention again.

Marcie sighs as if this is something she’s explained a dozen times before. “I know our end goal is to solidify your image as an independent woman and a strong movie star in her own right, but we’re still on the tails of a messy divorce from a long marriage. Ten years is basically a century in Hollywood marriages and it’s going to take some serious work to really distance you from that. Now, you’re hot off an insanely well-reviewed film, you’re working now with the same director, it’s a dreamy romance set abroad, you’re hot and single, these are all great things. But what we also have in our arsenal is Rhaenyra. I mean, she’s an old friend from your early fame days, just like Criston was, only now, we’ve thrown him out with the garbage and you’re back, you’ve grown up, but your friendships are just as strong. If we push this image of you and Rhaenyra reconciling, acting all chummy like you never go a day without speaking to one another, then the general public can put two and two together and figure out you probably weren’t the problem in your marriage. Are you with me?”

“Rhaenyra and I haven’t spoken since I married Criston, I don’t even know how to begin to be friends with her, Marcie,” Alicent sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as if this conversation is about to induce a headache. In all likelihood, it probably will. “Can’t we just push the strong independent woman angle? People love that.”

“Look, your image is fine as is. With the Sunsetters press, it’s honestly great. I just want to keep the buzz going. With press ending and you disappearing into production for the next few months, we don’t want you fading because then the only news will be divorce news and that’s not that we want.”

“Fine, what do you need me to do?”

“Maybe start with giving her a call,” Marcie offers as if it were truly so simple as that. “You guys were friends once, I’m sure it can’t be that difficult. I mean, obviously I wasn’t around then, but was it some gnarly friend break-up that’ll have you fist-fighting on set?”

“No, it wasn’t—”

(“You’re seriously getting engaged?” Rhaenyra scoffs, a look of pure and utter disbelief on her face. “Alicent, we—I—”

“You what?” Alicent sighs, running a hand through her hair. They stand in Alicent’s sh*tty London studio, all she could afford with the leftover money from a TV show pilot that never got picked up and the royalties from ‘Good Men Die Young’ reruns on the movie channels. “We aren’t anything, Rhaenyra, we’re friends for Christ’s sake, you’re supposed to be happy for me? Me and you—it was one time.”

“Don’t bullsh*t me, Alicent.”

“I’m not,” she seethes, suddenly flush with anger as she stares at the woman across from her. “I’m not—I’m not like that, Rhaenyra. It didn’t mean anything. I love Criston and I am going to marry him. Can’t you just be happy for me?”

For a moment, Rhaenyra looks as if she’s going to cry. Alicent doesn’t know why her heart hurts at the thought. After a moment, she sighs. “If you’re happy with this decision, then fine. I’m happy for you, Alicent, I really am.”

She’s lying through her teeth, they both know it. Alicent is the first to reach out, pulling her into a hug, breathing in the scent of her deeply as if she knows this is going to be the last time the two of them are this close. “You know I love you.”

“I know.”)

It wasn’t the last time they spoke, but things were never quite the same after that. A few months after that, Alicent broke her London lease and found a place in Los Angeles. She didn’t let herself look back after that.

“I’ll try and reach out,” Alicent finally relents with a heavy sigh, already feeling an oncoming migraine at the thought of speaking to Rhaenyra again. It’s almost embarrassing to be dreading it this much. She’s thirty-three, she can handle speaking to an old friend over the phone, it really shouldn’t be this difficult for her. The issue is that everything with Rhaenyra had been shoved into a small, locked box in the back of Alicent’s mind. It was still there, lingering, but it was packed away neatly where it couldn’t bother her any more than she let it. Opening that box after all she had done to keep it there was the last thing she wanted to do.

She could be professional on a film set, that was no issue. Sure, playing Rhaenyra’s love interest was certainly going to be awkward, but it was a risk she was willing to take for a film that would almost definitely be fantastic. It would have been career suicide not to take the role, even though she had offers from other big name directors, everyone loves a repeat when it comes to actor-director duos. Being professional was one thing. Pushing some PR friendship with Rhaenyra was another thing entirely.

As far as Alicent was concerned, her image was in no need of rehabilitation. This meant for the last few months she was blissfully free of PR schemes and prepared speeches and press releases. So this all felt rather out of the blue. A regular gut punch on a Saturday night.

“I’ll send along her updated contact information. You’ll be on location in two weeks, so don’t feel a need to arrange anything until then, but it might be smart to, at the very least, shoot her a text before you’re forced to be around her for several months while also pretending to be in love with her,” Marcie continues on. Alicent had almost forgotten she was on the phone considering her mind was swarming with thoughts of Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra.

“Okay, thank you, Marcie,” Alicent nods along as if the woman can see her. “Send her info, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Take care, bye.”

Alicent hangs up the phone, watching another tweet pop on her timeline.

‘@sunsettrsfilm: okayyy but confirming the divorce rumors right after putting but im a cheerleader in her letterboxd top four walk with me walk with me does anyone see where im going with this? Alicent hightower les—[GUNSHOT]’

She exits out of Twitter with a sigh, flipping her phone over so she can’t obsess over every notification before reaching for the remote and turning the volume up. Carrie’s dumped Big for the first time and Alicent goes into season two without blinking.

It’s not like Alicent hasn’t kept tabs on Rhaenyra all this time. Of course, she has. She stayed on the stage in London in various shows for several years, but in the last half of the decade, she’s moved much more into film territory with a few box office hits. Though, she’s most known in the film fan sphere for her work in Letters From Home, a devastating lesbian romance that left Alicent in tears (because, of course she watches all of Rhaenyra’s films). She wonders distantly if Rhaenyra has watched any of her films since they last spoke, if Rhaenyra thinks of her at all.

Alicent knows that Rhaenyra had a girlfriend for several years—three to be precise, but has only had on and off affairs since then, nothing serious. Rhaenyra came out publicly as a lesbian about two years after they stopped talking. Alicent remembers watching the interview.

(“Rhaenyra, you like to keep your private life relatively quiet, but I have to ask, is there any special man in your life that you like to share your successes with?”)

The interviewer had meant well. It was a different time back then. Alicent doesn’t linger on the fact those so-called different times were less than a decade ago.

(“My successes are my own, but if they were to be shared with anyone, it would be a woman. And only a woman,” Rhaenyra answers gracefully with a nervous laugh, wringing her hands together. It was a nervous habit she and Alicent shared. Used to share.)

Alicent had admired her so much for it she had almost picked up the phone. Almost.

In the years since then, Rhaenyra cut her hair, now rocking a loose shag that rarely made it past her shoulders. She also had a couple of new tattoos—small once on her shoulder and the inside of her arm that Alicent had spotted in some summer farmer’s market paparazzi photos a couple of years back. For not having spoken to her, Alicent was fully aware she knew too much about her current state of affairs. Her phone buzzes with the contact details from Marcie, though Alicent doesn’t lift her phone to look at them. If she does, it means she’ll have to call. And the last thing she wants to do is call.

Distantly, she wonders if Rhaenyra’s voice would sound the same. Foolishly, she knows it does. She’s seen her latest film, of course it sounds the same. Though it’s been so long since she heard that soft tone of voice that was typically only reserved for her. The voice of Rhaenyra’s that would come through in their quietest of moments.

(“All right, let’s get you to bed,” Rhaenyra helped her flop onto her mattress after a night of getting positively smashed.

Alicent chuckles, keeping her grip on Rhaenyra’s wrist and tugging her onto the bed with her. “You never cuddle with me anymore, stay here.”

“Fine, fine,” Rhaenyra whispers, voice soft like smooth velvet washing over Alicent’s skin. She closes her eyes, just listening to Rhaenyra, letting it bring her peace the way it always does. “I’m not going anywhere.”)

Alicent does her best to focus on the television show in front of her. She’s happy to have a bit of a break. As much as she loves getting dolled up for red carpets (the thirst tweets that run across her page do admittedly make her laugh, if anything), it gets exhausting after a while. She’s been doing pretty much back to back films for years, though with the divorce thrown into the mix, things have been feeling rougher than usual.

Against her coffee table, her phone buzzes with the repetition of an incoming phone call. For a moment, Alicent freezes, thinking that somehow it must be Rhaenrya. After all, if Marcie had Rhaenyra’s contact information, there is a solid chance that Rhaenyra’s publicist has passed along Alicent’s. It’s not entirely out of the realm of possibility, but the thought terrifies her. If she’s going to call Rhaenyra, it needs to happen when she’s ready. Even though, at this point in time, she isn’t sure if she’ll ever be ready.

Her phone continues ringing so she sighs, reaching forward to pause the episode before reaching for it. She hates how relieved she feels when she sees it’s not, in fact, Rhaenyra calling her. Oddly enough, though, it’s her lawyer. Alicent answers with a scrunched brow, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Miss Hightower, apologies for calling so late, but I figured this is news you’d want sooner rather than later,” her lawyer begins, her voice almost exuberant. If not for the lightness of her tone, Alicent would be worried the urgent evening phone call was an indicator of something wrong. “I wanted to let you know that Cole’s team has officially filed and everything has gone smoothly. Congratulations, Alicent, you’re officially divorced.”

The relief is immediate as it floods through her, feeling as though she has relaxed properly for the first time in months. It’s as if she’s just settled into a hot bath with aching muscles after a long day—the instant burn and bang of finally echoing through her persistent nerves.

“Thank you for letting me know,” she musters a professional tone as best as she can manage. “Have a good rest of your evening.”

The moment she hangs up the phone she stands up from her couch and traipses into the kitchen. She pulls a bottle of her finest red off the shelf—it was one Criston had bought for her, actually. Staring down at the label, she rubs it affectionately with her thumb. It was aged almost a hundred years from a vineyard in Tuscany. It must have cost hundreds of dollars. He bought it years ago, but they never drank it. He never let her drink the fine wines he purchased, only displaying them as if they were some trophy. As if to say look how much money I spend on this wife that I love. The wine represented how Alicent felt for most of her marriage—on display, not to be touched, not to be loved, not truly.

She looks at the wine bottle for a long moment before making the split decision. She throws it down in the sink, watching the glass bottle shatter into a million pieces, the century old wine spilling down the drain, gurgling softly as it travels down the pipes. With a paper towel she plucks the remaining pieces of glass out of the sink and tosses it in the trash before grabbing a wine glass down from the cupboard. She reaches into the fridge to find the half-empty bottle of sparkling rosé she got from Trader Joe’s last week, pouring herself a hefty glass and taking a large sip before slamming it back down against her counter.

For the first time in a decade, Alicent Hightower was a free woman. Laughing quietly to herself, she downs the rest of the glass of wine before reaching for her phone. With only slightly-shaky hands, she saves Rhaenyra’s new phone number into her contacts. For a moment, she scrolls through, hovering over Criston’s blocked number. His contact name still has a heart next to it, funnily enough, she never thought to update it. She deletes the number altogether, feeling a new peace settled within her.

Now, she gets to start her life all over again. It should fill her with dread—starting over as a woman at thirty-three to most people would seem like she’s already got one foot in the grave. Instead, though, she feels elated. She laughs again, the noise echoing on the walls of her kitchen. Alicent pours another glass of wine, returning to her paused episode and letting it play once more. Her phone doesn’t ring for the rest of the night and for once, there’s a smile on her face.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

It is just a phone call. Truly Alicent simply needs to grow up. She signed on to do a film with this woman, the least she can do is phone her to say hello before they’re forced to deal with each other every single day for several months. Not to mention the weeks of promo and press touring and traveling they’ll have to do after the fact. And if the film makes it to awards season… Alicent is getting ahead of herself. She wishes she could explain the nerves she felt. Reaching out after a long time to someone who was as close to her as Rhaenyra was should be easy. Should feel like picking up right where they left off. Only things are different, Alicent knows that. She’s sure Rhaenyra knows it, too.

(What are you doing?” Rhaenyra asks, watching Alicent watch her lips.)

Alicent taps her fingers against the counter, watching her phone screen as if it is going to magically light up with a phone call from Rhaenyra. If Rhaenyra were to call first, it would force Alicent to take that leap, to fall from the cliff and let soft waves catch her. Though it would seem the two of them are in a stalemate. Neither of them want to be the first to cross the fragile line in the sand.

Her phone buzzes and for a moment she allows herself to get her hopes up, but it is only a notification from Twitter.

‘@FilmUpdates: ‘Sunsetters’ directed by Luca Guadagnino starring Alicent Hightower and Harwin Strong has debuted at the box office with $70 million. The film had a $32 million budget.’

It brings her quiet relief, though it does not satiate the restlessness within her that is borne from her need to call Rhaenyra. Marcie had mainly offered it as a suggestion considering she can’t really make Alicent do anything. Alicent could always simply say she called without actually having done so if it really came down to it and Marcie would almost certainly believe her. Not that Alicent has to lie to her publicist. She is an adult. God, it almost reminds her of what it used to be like pinned beneath her father’s thumb. Not that Otto has much sway on her now. Once she began making her own money and was able to support herself substantially, her relationship with her father went from strained to entirely no contact rather quickly. It was a sort of peace she never knew she could have.

“f*ck it,” Alicent breathes out, reaching for her phone before she can stop herself. She clicks of Rhaenyra’s updated contact and pinches the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath as she listens to the phone ring.

It rings twice before Alicent hangs up the call, slamming her phone back down as if it had burned her. She can’t call Rhaenyra. Things between them were undoubtedly a bridge burned, impossible to cross back over. The most she can really hope for is a polite working experience between the two of them and no amount of phone calls will soothe that. The sooner Alicent comes to terms with that, the better. Reaching out to Rhaenyra will prove nothing. All it will do is remind Alicent how miserably she failed at maintaining the one friendship that truly mattered to her.

She and Rhaenyra had been friends since they were little girls at a summer theater camp. From the moment they met, they were instantly bonded in a way that Alicent had truly never felt with another person. Even still, she has never been blessed again by that sort of kinship. They went everywhere together, often linked arm in arm just to assure they remained close to one another. She used to feel empty without Rhaenyra near. Sometimes she wonders if she still feels that way.

Her phone screen lights up from across the counter. Alicent’s eyes dart over to it, her pulse quickening at the sudden noise in her quiet kitchen. There on her screen, plain as day, is Rhaenyra’s name. For the slightest moment, she swears her heart stops.

She watches the phone ring, unmoving. It would be so easy to miss the call; too easy.

Alicent is fast as lightning when she grabs the phone and presses it to her ear, breathing out, “Rhaenyra.”

“Alicent,” is the response. The oh-so simple response. Her voice is the same, of course it’s the same, she knew it would be. Yet it still rushes over her with the flush of surprise, rocked to her very core and having heard the voice she once knew so well for the first time again; it’s been long enough that it now feels brand new as if it could not be anything else. “You called?”

Alicent squeezes her eyes shut tightly. She hadn’t been quick enough for the call not to register for Rhaenyra and she had known this in spirit, but now being faced with the consequences of such a senseless action it seems she had managed to entirely forget she had done it.

“I—yes,” Alicent manages, taking a deep breath.

(“Alicent, are you sure?” Rhaenyra’s breath is bated. Distantly, Alicent wonders if Rhaenyra has thought about this as much as she has.)

“Yes, sorry,” she continues, trying to force herself out of her own head. Things are different now, nothing of the past needs to matter. It shouldn’t matter at all. Alicent is someone else entirely now. Rhaenyra will come to know that soon enough. Perhaps she already maintains her own expectations as to how much Alicent has truly changed. But has she changed at all? Having heard not more than three words from Rhaenyra, she begins to wonder if after all this time she is still the same. “My—my publicist thought it would be smart for us to get reacquainted before we begin production so I thought it would be smart to… to give you a call.”

On the other line, Rhaenyra chuckles, “After ten years, all it took for you to call me was your publicist asking nicely?”

“I think the multi-million dollar film contract was a bit more the deciding factor,” Alicent offers a joke, though her tone is timid.

For a moment, the other line is quiet and Alicent wonders if she’s managed to piss Rhaenyra off already. She wouldn’t blame the other woman if she gave up on Alicent entirely. She has been a bit of a sh*t friend. For the last ten years, at least.

“Yes, that’ll do it, I suppose,” Rhaenyra finally says with a soft laugh and it isn’t until she’s heard it again that Alicent realizes just how much she missed that laugh. How much her heart has ached to have Rhaenyra near her again—to restore the friendship that had been lost and soiled between them. It is pathetic, perhaps, how much she yearns to regain her closeness, but her heart now flutters with hope. Rhaenyra doesn’t hate her. It’s the least she could hope for and more than she expected at all. “Alicent, what are you doing tonight?”

Alicent balks, looking around at her empty kitchen and the remnants of the wine bottle she had been working on the previous night that she had fully intended to finish tonight. She clears her throat after a moment. “Nothing in particular, why do you ask?”

“Well, it would seem I am in Los Angeles for the time being and considering I have you here on the phone, which as of late has been an incredibly rare occasion, I would like to take you out to dinner,” Rhaenyra speaks matter-of-factly, the same assured, calm confidence she always carries in her voice that right now is going to bring Alicent to her knees with nerves. Dinner. Tonight. Alicent barely made it to the phone. She isn’t sure she would be able to survive seeing Rhaenyra in person so soon after the first crack in the dam has formed. She isn’t quite ready to break. Even so, she knows this is a rare opportunity. A moment alone with her before they become all-consumed with production, swarmed with crew and cast at every possible moment. She isn’t sure she would know how to say no if she wanted to.

(Saturday night. Dinner between friends.

“Last night was a—”

“Mistake,” Alicent corrects before she can let Rhaenyra finish the sentence. She needs to clear the air before it goes too far, before it becomes too much and everything between them is ruined entirely. To be completely honest with herself, Alicent is acutely aware of the fact that everything is already ruined. This evening is simply it—the beginning of the end. Alicent had always wondered when her friendship with Rhaenyra would fall apart; she had grown used to waiting for the other shoe to drop. And here it was.)

“Tell me where and I’ll meet you,” Alicent says, biting her thumb softly, pinching the flesh between her teeth as if the small action will somehow calm the nerves raging within her. She’s only nervous because it’s been a long time. It was perfectly normal to be nervous when reuniting with someone one hasn’t seen in several years. Nothing about Alicent right now is out of the ordinary—at least, not any more than usual.

Rhaenyra names a restaurant, one Alicent has heard of but has never been to before and she accepts, nodding softly to herself as if to reassure herself this is truly happening. She is going to meet Rhaenyra for dinner. Just like the old times. It can’t go worse than the last dinner they had, that much she knows.

(“Of course, it was a mistake. You have a boyfriend—”

“Fiancé,” Alicent corrects.

“Fiancé,” she repeats, expression stoic. For the first time in their decades-long friendship, Alicent can’t read her. It’s a heartbreak in and of itself.)

She hangs up the phone with shaking hands. Alicent allows herself a moment of peace before she knows she has to get up and get ready to meet Rhaenyra. To meet Rhaenyra. It feels entirely unreal. Alicent doesn’t know what to do with herself. She wrings her hands together as she heads towards her bedroom and subsequent walk-in closet. It’s not like it’s a date, she certainly doesn’t have to dress up. She knows the place Rhaenyra suggested isn’t particularly fancy, which is probably why Rhaenyra picked it. It’s just a casual catch up meal between friends. Acquaintances.

Knowing this, it does not stop her from putting in effort. There might be paparazzi— she reasons with herself as she pulls on a white vaguely babydoll style dress with a skirt made up of layers of lace that stop barely below her ass. It’s simple, casual. And happens to make her already well-shaped legs look miles long. Totally coincidental. She pulls on white calf-length socks and black Docs to dress it down, per se, because it’s casual. Which is why she grabs her black Chanel shoulder bag, shoving it up onto her shoulder as she leaves her auburn curls loose down her back. She’s trying too hard. She is incredibly aware of the fact that she is trying too hard and yet she cannot stop herself—like watching a car crash about to happen; utterly impossible to look away.

As she waits for her car on the street, she lights a cigarette, sunglasses low on her nose and hair falling loose over her shoulders. An old nasty habit that Rhaenyra used to make fun of her for, but right now her nerves need it more than ever. God, she’s meeting Rhaenyra for dinner. This must be a dream. It has to be. Any moment now, Alicent will realize she fell asleep on the couch during another Sex and the City rewatch and she’s come to with the sight of Carrie breaking up with Big for the thousandth time and she’ll have never heard Rhaenyra’s voice again.

Her car pulls up and reality begins to settle within her, making her muscles taut with tension, dying to let loose and yet unable to release. She stomps out her cigarette beneath her boot and adjusts the strap of her dress, feeling the way it digs into her shoulder. Perhaps the slight twinge of irritation on her skin will be a retribution for her. Something akin to having to face Rhaenyra knowing she is the one that ruined everything. That all Rhaenyra did was try and do what was best for Alicent and she shoved it away. Gave it all up for what? A husband she no longer loves? A husband whose number she’s had to block and delete? It feels nothing short of pathetic when she thinks of it now.

Every time she had watched television and movies she had scoffed, rolled her eyes when a man got in the way of the two best friends. It’s ridiculous, she would say while Rhaenyra simply laughed at her annoyance, no man can truly be so wonderful it’s worth throwing away a friendship. Perhaps the irony there is that the man that came between them was never really wonderful at all. Alicent feels a fool, lingering on it for far longer than she should as the car lurches through evening Los Angeles traffic. It is well past rush hour as the sun begins to disappear behind the rolling hills and skyscrapers, but rush hour never truly ends in the city. She wishes the traffic would be worse if only to delay her meeting with Rhaenyra a bit further.

The car comes to a stop and through the window, Alicent sees her leaning against the brick of the hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant Rhaenyra had chosen. Christ, she looks good. She’s scrolling on her phone and hasn’t spotted Alicent’s car yet so she allows herself a moment to stare. She’s wearing a white t-shirt that’s cropped just enough for a sliver of stomach to show before the beginning of her baggy jeans held up by a black belt. Her hair is short, landing messily above her shoulders though it is still the same silvery-blonde it always was. Beneath the capped sleeve of her t-shirt, Alicent sees a tattoo peeking out and she bites her lip at the sight of her strong arms. Rhaenyra always took care of herself, but this close, her arms are much more defined than she remembers them being.

Alicent takes a deep breath, trying not to look at the way two silver chains hang around Rhaenyra’s neck. She wonders if they’re the same chains she used to wear—one had been one they bought together, a simple silver star that had never left her neck the moment Alicent had told Rhaenyra she liked it, and the other had been a moon from her mother. She knew the moon would likely remain, though she doubted the star would.

“Miss, we’ve arrived,” her driver reminds her, knocking her out of her trance.

She curses herself softly and thanks him before hiking up her purse and opening the door. She’s careful to avoid the gutter as she steps out, though she’s so concentrated on it that she very nearly trips up onto the curb. Alicent is a complete and utter mess of herself. She pulls her sunglasses up onto her head as she stands on the sidewalk, mere feet away from the woman she hasn’t seen in over a decade. The woman who used to be everything to her. Who perhaps still is.

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra’s warm voice pulls her back to earth and there she is—right there in front of her with the same smile, a dimple piercing her cheek, the same dimple there always was. Alicent can’t help but smile back at her.

“Rhaenyra,” she says, her voice a rough velvet, choppy as she feels herself getting choked up on a mere three syllables. She’s hardly thinking when she reaches out and pulls her into a hug, wrapping her arms snugly around her neck as if not a day has passed between them. If Rhaenyra is bothered by it, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she just accepts it, wrapping her arms tightly around Alicent’s waist. The touch burns, even through layers of fabric. Rhaenyra has always been a couple inches taller, but the platform of Alicent’s boots make them almost the same height.

Alicent is the first to pull back, though she hardly goes far as her hands find a place on Rhaenyra’s upper arms, perhaps due to an innate desire to feel the firmness of her muscle beneath her own fingertips, though that is hardly something she would admit to herself. “You look—you look great, truly. It’s—your hair, it’s so short.”

For a moment, she almost wants to run her fingers through it. To see if it’s as soft as she remembers, but she holds back.

“You know how my hair used to drive me crazy, it was only a matter of time,” Rhaenyra laughs, “Come on, let’s get a table.”

Rhaenrya guides her into the restaurant by way of a gentle hand on her wrist and the touch makes her heart flutter. The two of them had always been touching in some way or another, it was just a natural facet of their closeness. It’s easy to slip back into old habits, Alicent is very quickly realizing. She is forced with the realization of how desperately her body wants to be close to Rhaenyra the moment she’s within reach.

They get seated on the patio, the sun setting warm against Alicent’s back as she leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over her knee with a relaxed grin on her face. Rhaenyra watches her carefully, her head tilted as she fiddles with her hands in her lap, legs spread out in a relaxed yet curious stance. The stalemate seems to have resumed as both of them seem to be waiting for the other to speak first.

“So—” Rhaenyra starts.

“Have you—” Alicent begins at the same time. Both of them pause and laugh. Alicent waves off a hand. “Apologies. You first.”

“So,” Rhaenyra tries again, looking over Alicent curiously with pursed lips, drumming her fingers against the table. “I saw your new film is doing quite well. I saw it at Cannes, it was wonderful, truly. You were—you were great.”

A blush fills her cheeks and Alicent leans forward, letting her long hair hide her face as she picks lightly at her cuticles. Noticing this, Rhaenyra reaches forward and places her hand on top of Alicent’s, forcing her to stop the movement. Both of them stare at their touching hands for a moment before Rhaenyra pulls back abruptly, as if she had been burned. “Sorry, old habit.”

“No, no, don’t worry,” Alicent brushes it off with a chuckle, trying desperately to ignore the way her heart is racing in her chest. “Thank you, I didn’t realize you were at Cannes, I wish I had known. Festival season is always so overwhelming, I’m usually hiding out in my hotel room when I’m not trying to catch certain films. I—truthfully, I think I blacked out after getting the Palme. Sorry, I don’t mean to brag.”

“You should brag,” Rhaenyra laughs, her shoulders shaking where she leans against the back of the chair. “Some say the Palme is more prestigious than a Best Picture award, it’s okay to be proud. You’re doing quite well for yourself, Alicent.”

“As are you,” she retorts, avoiding the other woman’s eyes. Part of her is in awe of how natural it feels to be around her again. As if not a day has passed between them. “I’ve been keeping an eye on your films, admittedly. Though, it’s hard not to given how much people talk about them.”

“I could say the same about yours.”

Alicent huffs out a quiet excuse of a laugh before silence settles between them once again. Anything that can be said is brought to a pause as the waiter comes by to take their drink orders. Alicent doesn’t hesitate to order a glass of red wine, needing something to make her soft, to make the edges of her vision just hazy enough that she doesn’t overthink every word that leaves her mouth. Distantly, she thinks she’ll need a proper co*cktail when she arrives back home.

Once left alone, the silence resumes.

Before she can speak, a young woman who can’t be older than twenty-three comes up on the other side of the fencing separating the patio from the sidewalk, “Excuse me, I’m so sorry for interrupting, but could I get a picture with the two of you? I’m just—I’m a huge fan, I actually flew to Venice to catch Letters From Home when it premiered and don’t get me started on Sunsetters, I left the theater and immediately added to my four favorites and—I am totally rambling.”

Rhaenyra takes charge of the situation with a polite laugh, saying, “It’s no problem at all. I’m all right with a photo if Alicent is, Alicent?”

She blinks, hardly realizing a question is being directed towards her because all she can look at is the way the setting sun has cast Rhaenyra in a hazy orange glow that makes positively golden. After a moment of awkward silence passes, she clears her throat and nods, “Yes, yeah, a photo is perfectly fine. Of course.”

The girl stands in the middle of the two of them as they sit up to get a good angle, the girl’s friend taking the picture before handing the phone back. The girl now looks positively giddy, her cheeks flushed red with excitement before saying, “Thank you so much, I really do appreciate it. I’ll let you get back to your dinner now, sorry, thank you again.”

She leaves them alone and Alicent takes a deep breath, running a hand through her hair before letting her hands fall to her lap. Distantly, she offers, “I never really do get used to it, do I?”

When she looks up, Rhaenyra shakes her head. “Not quite, I suppose.”

Another beat passes. Rhaenyra breaks the silence. “I wanted to thank you for agreeing to meet with me, I know it was last minute, but…”

“It was long overdue,” Alicent finishes, offering her a smile. “That’s my fault. I was horrible to you, last time we spoke. You didn’t deserve that.”

“How is Criston?” Rhaenyra asks, her expression stiffening as she fiddles with the silverware on the table. She refuses to look Alicent in the eyes, the easiness between them shifting entirely over the course of a few words.

“I wouldn’t know,” Alicent answers tersely, clearing her throat and willing Rhaenyra to look at her. When Rhaenyra meets her eyes, she scoffs, “Don’t tell me you don’t know. My divorce has been splashed on the front pages of every magazine for weeks now. We’ve been separated for months, I doubt you haven’t heard about it.”

Rhaenyra watches her carefully, eyes wide as if she hardly recognizes her. Slowly, inevitably, though, a slow smile begins to tug at the corners of Rhaenyra’s lips. “Is now a good time to tell you then that I always hated him?”

“I know you did, but well, I did like him at some point, didn’t I? I must have,” Alicent gnaws at her bottom lip, grateful when her wine arrives. The conversation pauses once more as they order their food, but the brief stall doesn’t keep her heart from racing. Of course, Rhaenyra would smile when she finds out about Alicent’s divorce. Or maybe she knew the whole time and just wanted to hear Alicent admit it. Either way, Alicent is happy to oblige.

“Regardless, we both know Criston isn’t the only reason we stopped talking,” Rhaenyra says. Alicent pales, worried she is going to casually bring up the one topic, the one event, Alicent is desperate to keep buried between them.

(Hands roam against the soft, supple flesh of Alicent’s inner thighs, getting dangerously close to where she’s desperate, waiting anxiously for some iota of relief. She aches, gentle pleas falling from her lips.

She breathes out the only thing that could possibly be on her mind right now, “Rhaenyra.”)

“You simply got much too famous for me and I didn’t know how to handle it,” Rhaenyra says instead, shrugging casually and biting back a grin. “I’ll be the first to say the phone goes both ways, I could have reached out to you just as well.”

“You don’t need to justify yourself to me, Rhaenyra,” Alicent shakes her head softly, a light scoff falling from her lips as she watches the woman across from her, still in awe that the two of them have managed to wind up here after all this time.

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes. “I’m justifying you because if I still know you at all then I am almost certain you have spent the last decade blaming yourself and nothing but yourself and that is something I won’t stand for.”

“You do know me,” Alicent says, her voice barely above a whisper as she twists the ring she wears on her right hand. She used to always fiddle with her wedding ring, but she had to replace it with something else after that fell apart. “You always have and if this dinner is evidence for anything it’s that you always will.”

Rhaenyra smiles, her cheeks flushing red softly as she looks down at her own hands in her lap. “Well, I know you know me just as well, even if you think you’ve lost your sense.”

More than anything, Alicent is grateful. Grateful to not have lost Rhaenyra entirely. She’s spent the majority of the time since signing on for her next film absolutely dreading seeing Rhaenyra again. And yet here they are, not a day missing between them. It’s more than she could ever have asked for. In her purse, her phone buzzes. And then buzzes again. And again.

Not wanting to ignore it, Alicent groans and reaches for it, immediately finding out why so many notifications came through at once.

‘@FilmUpdates: Rhaenyra Targaryen and Alicent Hightower pictured with a fan in Los Angeles this evening. The two are set to star in Luca Guadagnino’s upcoming film, ‘Unto Devotion’ with filming set to begin next month in Florence.’

‘@alicentsgf: the pr is pring but idgaf these two havent been photographed together in a DECADE. Not since they were ROOMMATES !!!!!
—@nyrastans: and they were roommates!!!’

“It seems me and you are already top news,” Alicent chuckles softly before putting her phone on silent and shoving it back in her purse before she can dare look at another tweet.

“Isn’t that what your publicist wanted?” Rhaenyra asks, raising an eyebrow.

Alicent opens her mouth and closes it again, trying to think of an answer that isn’t just yes— even though that is technically the answer. ‘Technically, she only asked me to call you, she never said anything about fabricating a PR friendship to promote my new film and extricate me from the clutches of divorce news. We did that all on our own.”

“Oh, marvelous,” Rhaenyra sighs, hiding her smile behind a sip of her drink. “Is it really a PR friendship if I missed you?”

Alicent’s breath hitches. She had missed Rhaenyra more than she had ever missed anything in the world, though it seems impossible to voice such a pathetic feeling now. She bites on her bottom lip, raising her glass for a quiet toast instead. “To old friends.”

Rhaenyra watches her with something curious in her eyes, something Alicent hasn’t seen before, at least, not in a long time. Eventually, though, she raises her glass, repeating, “To old friends.”

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Two weeks later, Alicent finds herself in Italy ahead of production. They have another fortnight until they actually have to be on set, but most of the cast is arriving early for the sake of getting settled. In the heart of Florence, Alicent has rented a small one-bedroom apartment that looks out onto the city streets—an apartment she will call home for the next four or so months, provided all goes well with the film. Distantly, she allows herself to wonder if Rhaenyra has arrived yet. The two of them had hardly spoken since their dinner—something Alicent expected. One doesn’t simply revive a ten-years dead friendship overnight and she was more than prepared to accept that. That being said, she didn’t expect to be so… upset about it.

She was selfish for wanting things to go back to normal; she knows she is. If she wants Rhaenyra back, she’s going to have to work for it. And working for it would likely involve doing more than sending a text to let her know she landed in Florence. It’s the first time they’d texted since they met for dinner two weeks ago.

Twitter, of course, had a field day with the fact that they were together, but Alicent’s PR had quickly thrown out an article about the two of them getting reacquainted ahead of production, assuring pushy viewers that it was nothing more than a friendly dinner to prepare for a role. Friendly. Nothing like the nonsense people have been posting, accusing the two of them of all sorts of things. Assuming all sorts of things about their relationship. Social media would probably die if they knew they had no sort of relationship. They were nothing more than old friends who were now forced to work together. Alicent knew that. Alicent knew that was probably why Rhaenyra wasn’t texting her.

Her phone rings and Alicent presses it to her ear without looking, asking, “Hello?”

“Marcie put you up in the same building as me,” Rhaenyra’s voice is gruff in her ear and Alicent nearly has to grip the windowsill for stability. Cool breeze flows in through the sheer curtains as she opens her window, desperate for some fresh air now that she has Rhaenyra right here in her ear. She had expected at the very most a text back, not a phone call. She needs to be warned about such things. “I saw you through your window when I was coming up. Not that I’m stalking you, I just don’t think Italy believes in real curtains.”

“That’ll remind me not to get changed in front of the window, I appreciate the heads up,” Alicent jokes, leaning on the windowsill where a white-painted fire escape awaits her. Part of her is almost tempted to climb out just to have a smoke and smell the sea air for a moment, but she holds back for the sake of the phone call. A phone call with Rhaenyra.

“Damn, there goes that dream,” Rhaenyra teases back. It’s perfectly normal and yet something in the way she says it causes Alicent’s breath to hitch. She covers it up by clearing her throat, pulling the phone away as she practically chokes.

Eventually, though, she finds words. “What unit you in, then?”

“2D,” Rhaenyra answers. Alicent, of course, is in 2B. They’re across the hall from each other in some rare case of divine intervention. Alicent hasn’t believed in God in a very long time, but if she did, she would think they were a real asshole. “Anyway, that’s not entirely why I called, really I wanted to ask if you wanted to go for a drink?”

If Alicent wasn’t choking before, she might be now. “A drink?”

“Yeah, well, we’re the only two here right now and we’ve got quite some time to kill. It’d be a little pathetic if we were just going to sit in opposite apartments and not speak to one another,” Rhaenyra comments and Alicent has to admit she’s right. Not that she wouldn’t make a solid attempt to sit across the hall and completely ignore Rhaenyra’s presence simply because she’s almost sure she’s going to embarrass herself in front of the woman non-stop. She isn’t sure why she’s so nervous. Maybe it’s because they haven’t spoken in years, maybe because Rhaenyra seems to look a million times better than she already did last time they spoke. Not that that matters, of course, she would enjoy Rhaenyra’s presence no matter how she looked. “I heard about a nice bar nearby, I figured a drink won’t kill us.”

“Twitter might have a heart attack,” Alicent retorts, turning around so she can lean with her back against the windowsill, bringing her thumb to her mouth to bite at her cuticles. She can’t help but feel nervous about meeting Rhaenyra again. Getting herself to dinner had already been a terrible feat—one she’s still surprised she managed to accomplish, even two weeks later.

“Let them,” Rhaenyra chuckles, “And let me buy you a drink. I’ll be at your door in an hour.”

Alicent senses she has no choice in the matter, not that she’s really complaining. It doesn’t matter what her answer might have been because Rhaenyra hangs up the phone. With a sigh, Alicent runs her hand through her hair and contemplates her options. On the one hand—photos of the two of them clubbing together would undoubtedly be good press, especially for the film but also for Alicent herself. On the other hand, she and alcohol around Rhaenyra can be a disastrous mix. At least, it has been in the past.

(“I just love your—” Alicent sighs dreamily, running her finger down Rhaenyra’s nose and over her lips, tracing her profile. She trails off in a fit of giggles, feeling as if she were floating on a cloud. “Beautiful. Like a painting.”

Rhaenyra looks at her with a soft expression, something unwritten in her eyes, glimmering in the low lamp light of Alicent’s bedroom. “Let’s get you to bed, Alicent.”)

She stands there at the window for a moment, contemplating. Standing here in an hour and ignoring Rhaenyra’s knock on the door? That’s hardly an option at all. Alicent sighs once more. She can be an adult about this. They’re co-stars, it’s perfectly all right for them to go out for a drink or two together. She eyes her half-unpacked bags, debating what she could possibly wear to go clubbing in the middle of Italy. She’s starting to think rekindling her friendship with Rhaenyra will be the death of her.

An hour later, she’s hardly certain her outfit will work, but it’ll have to do. A small, black vest with nothing beneath it to combat the sticky summer air leaves a decent dip of her chest revealed, something she knows will drive anyone crazy. Distantly, she wonders if it’ll drive Rhaenyra crazy. Not that it matters. It doesn’t. She paired it with loose black slacks with a waistline just below her belly button. She’s still shoving heeled black boots onto her feet when there’s a knock at the door.

She curses to herself, shoving her last boot on with one hand before racing to tie her hair up with a black ribbon to keep it off her neck during the heat. She’s still holding it together when she answers the door. Barely looking at Rhaenyra, she does a quick scan, saying, “Sorry, I’m still—”

Alicent pauses, turning back to actually give Rhaenyra a proper look. She’s wearing a white silk shirt, half-unbuttoned with a black blazer on top. Alicent can’t help but let her eyes roam down the exposed span of chest, spotting a bit of black ink peeking out from underneath the loose collar of her shirt. “That’s new.”

Rhaenyra is hardly paying attention to her, though, as her eyes trace down Alicent’s form, lingering on her chest before shifting down to her waist and eventually drawing back up to her eyes. Alicent clears her throat, trying to act like she wasn’t blatantly checking Rhaenyra out. Well, she wasn’t checking her out, she was just taking in what she was wearing. As anyone would.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Rhaenyra hums, a small smile forming on her face.

“That,” Alicent nods to the tattoo on her chest, reaching to put her hair up once more, but struggling to get a good angle with it. “It’s new.”

Rhaenyra places a hand on her shoulder and turns Alicent around. She follows without hesitating, handing Rhaenyra the ribbon when she opens her hand. Her hands run through Alicent’s hair, twisting it up and tying it with ease. She tries not to focus on the feeling of Rhaenyra’s hands against her scalp, working with hair and getting it exactly where Alicent wants it to be. “I got it a couple years ago, something my mom used to say to me.”

When Alicent turns back around, she allows herself to reach out and push Rhaenyra’s shirt to the side slightly so she can see the text. To the stars. Alicent recognizes it immediately—Rhaenyra mentioned it before, on the rare occasions she would bring up Aemma. Rhaenyra had only been fourteen when her mother died, but it had taken her a long time to even begin to open up about it. One time, she admitted the words of affection she and her mother always shared, ‘I love you to the stars and back.’ Rhaenrya said it was because the moon wasn’t far enough, but the stars were infinite. She lets her fingers brush against the ink momentarily before pulling her hand back sharply.

“I like it,” Alicent says, looking up to realize how closely she and Rhaenyra are standing to each other. She draws her bottom lip between her teeth, meeting Rhaenyra’s outfit. She takes a step back, bringing her hand down the lining of the blazer, cracking a smile. “I like the outfit, too.”

“We match,” Rhaenyra comments softly, running a hand through her hair. A strand of silver-blonde falls into her face and Alicent doesn’t hesitate to tuck it back into place behind her ear. Rhaenyra clears her throat, looking away quickly, but Alicent swears she sees her cheeks flush a faint shade of pink. She’ll blame it on the heat—apparently Italian people also don’t believe in central air conditioning. “Ready to get going?”

Alicent nods, tucking a loose strand behind her ear and grabbing the same shoulder bag she wore to dinner the other night. The sun is setting in Florence and she’s stepping out onto the cobblestone with Rhaenyra at her side. It feels… strange to say the least. It’s something Alicent can see herself getting used to, it feels natural in a new way. She hardly knows what to make of it.

Rhaenyra seems to know where she’s going, so Alicent simply follows, taking in the sights and sounds of the small city. It seems to be a good chunk of tourists, though the streets are mostly thinned out at this hour which Alicent is thankful for. Filming will be a ways out of town in the countryside with some sparingly being filmed on the coast, but Florence was the closest city that had places for them to stay. Something Alicent is immensely grateful for because now it means she gets to spend the summer across the hall from Rhaenyra. She won’t deny it’s nice having her close again, even if their friendship is still on the outs. Well, walking to the bar with her arm brushing against Rhaenyra’s periodically, she begins to wonder how on the outs they really are.

Alicent keeps walking down the straight sidewalk, but Rhaenrya grabs her hand and tugs her right around the corner. Alicent chuckles slightly, following after her. Even though she’s on the right path now, Rhaenyra doesn’t quite let go. Alicent catches up to her with a brisk couple of steps, intertwining their fingers and bringing her hand around Rhaenyra’s wrist, allowing herself to lean on her arm for a moment. It feels comfortable, like old times.

“How much longer? I am wearing heels, you know,” Alicent jokes, brushing her front up against Rhaenyra’s arm and smiling softly. She can smell her cologne from here and part of her is delighted to know it’s the same one she always used to wear.

Rhaenyra pauses, looking down at Alicent’s shoes. “They’re chunky heels, you’ll be fine. It’s not much longer.”

The two of them share a laugh and comfort floods through her. She looks up, pulling a strand of hair away from her face, only for her eyes to land on a man with a camera across the street. Her expression sobers up immediately as she nudges Rhaenyra, nodding subtly to the paparazzi. In the shadows, there’s another woman next to him, also holding a camera. She’s almost certain they’ve already snapped a handful of photos of Alicent practically hanging off of her.

Instinctually, Alicent lets go, creating some space between the two of them. Rhaenyra sighs, slinging her arms around Alicent’s shoulders so she can whisper in her ear. “It’s all right, Alicent, we’re friends. It’s no big deal.”

“Are we?” Alicent can’t help but ask, grateful when they turn another corner away from the paparazzi. She shoots a look behind her to make sure they aren’t following. “Friends, that is?”

“If you want to be,” Rhaenrya offers, the corner of her lips tugging up into a smile that appears casual, but to someone who knows her as well as Alicent does, she can see the nerves hiding behind it. At Alicent’s change in expression, she rolls her eyes, “Oh, don’t look so surprised, I was already whinging over how much I missed you when we were at dinner, this shouldn’t be a shock to you.”

“No, no, I know,” Alicent sighs, separating herself from Rhaenyra by means of grabbing her wrist and pulling her arm away from her shoulders. She lets her touch linger on her wrist before letting go of Rhaenyra entirely. “I just… I think I still don’t know why you don’t hate me.”

Rhaenyra gives her a long look, stopping in front of a club with music so loud it pulses through the door. She shoves her hands in her pockets, brow furrowed as she gazes at Alicent. “We both did things, Alicent. I shouldn’t have… it’s not important, not now. Let’s just put it behind us, okay?”

Alicent nods, gnawing at her bottom lip as she nervously shifts beneath the intensity of her gaze. Distantly, she remembers what it felt like to kiss Rhaenyra. She shakes the thought from her mind before it gets to be too much, too much for right now. “Okay, behind us it is, then. Why don’t we go get a drink?”

Rhaenyra smiles, pushing open the door and motioning for Alicent to go in first. The club is so loud she can barely hear herself think—usually not her scene at all, but right now she is immensely grateful for it. The sooner music can drown out her thoughts and she can get a drink in her hands the better. Rhaenyra right behind her with a hand on her waist to help the two of them navigate a packed bar is not exactly making things any easier.

She isn’t sure why Rhaenyra tonight is getting her so riled up. It doesn’t even seem like she’s doing it on purpose; it just keeps happening. Her checking Alicent out, her hands in her hair, their fingers intertwined. It’s all beginning to become too much for her. Alicent feels like she’s about to start sweating.

They get to the bar and Alicent is quick to order a martini with about as much gin as humanly possible, taking a hefty swig the moment the drink is in her hands. She goes to hand over her card, but Rhaenyra steps in, giving her own to the bartender before she can stop her.

Leaning in her ear so close Alicent can feel the hot breath against her skin, causing goosebumps to rise along her flesh, already with a thin sheen of sweat from the heat of the club, she says, “I told you I was buying you a drink.”

“What are you? Courting me?” Alicent can’t help but say, even though she absolutely knows she shouldn’t. Not given her recent line of thought. She drinks more of her martini, desperate to drown out the memories that have long since haunted her.

“Oh, shut it, you can get me back later,” Rhaenyra laughs, throwing her head back before turning to the bartender and ordering her own drink. Once received, the two of them sit and people watch for a moment, not wanting to risk full drinks on a crowded dance floor (Alicent has dropped many expensive drinks on dance floors in her time and she’s determined to be more careful).

The music is too loud so they don’t talk, but Alicent finds comfort just being near her. After her drink is done, she’s desperate for another, but determined to take it slow. The moment you start winning awards as an actress is the moment you stop being able to get sloppy drunk in public and Alicent can not afford a scandal right now. Her divorce, as on her side as it could be, was still huge news and she doesn’t need to be photographed falling on the streets of Florence right after it’s finalized.

She winds her way to the dance floor, navigating through the thrums of people. A pleasant smile lands on her face when she realizes Rhaenyra has followed her—some Italian house song she’s never heard before in her life is playing so loudly she can practically feel the floor vibrating beneath her feet. Someone’s back bumps into hers, but she can’t focus on it when Rhaenyra brings a hand to her waist. It’s a perfectly logical move, of course, to keep the two of them from losing each other or bumping into too many people. And yet, with Rhaenyra’s palm against the bare skin of her waist, she feels electricity pulse in her veins. She lets herself sway to the music, getting closer and closer to Rhaenyra as her eyes slide closed.

Rhaenyra brings her other hand to her waist, keeping her close. Someone bumps into Rhaenyra and pushes her even closer, the two of them practically front to front.

(“Don’t stop,” Alicent moans as Rhaenyra’s hand tugs her top over her head, tossing it to the side. Alicent’s back arches against the mattress as Rhaenyra’s lips find her chest, a hand reaching up to cup her breast. All thoughts of her boyfriend leave her mind—all she can think of is the thrumming in her chest and the wetness between her thighs.)

She brings one hand up to Rhaenyra’s neck, feeling the thin sheen of sweat forming at the nape of her neck, playing with the hair there absentmindedly as she and Rhaenyra sway to the beat. They move so easily together it’s like there was never a gap between them in the first place. She keeps her eyes closed, relishing in the feel of having Rhaenyra this close to her again.

The song changes and the spell between them is broken as Alicent breaks away from her, heading for the bar because she is going to need another drink. This time it’s a rum and co*ke because she needs something quick, meaning it’s already half gone by the time Rhaenyra gets over to her.

Rhaenyra is about to break through the crowd to talk to Alicent when a woman grabs Rhaenyra by the wrist and tugs her back onto the dance floor. Rhaenyra shoots her a worried look, but Alicent just shakes her head, downing the rest of her drink and slamming it down against the bar. She heads to the bathroom so she doesn’t have to watch Rhaenyra dance with someone else.

It’s surprisingly empty, meaning Alicent takes the moment of liberty to splash some cold water against her face, desperate to cool down and clear her mind of all thoughts of Rhaenyra.

It seems she gets no reprieve, though, because the door opens and there she is.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t, there’s nothing to be sorry for,” Alicent brushes her off immediately, wiping off the remnants of water in her face. “It’s just—it’s really hot in here, wow, isn’t it? I’m, I’m just sweating my ass off, it’s ridiculous—”

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra cuts off her tangent, leaning against the wall behind her. When Alicent looks up into the mirror, she meets the eyes of Rhaenyra’s reflection with a heavy sigh.

“I thought we were putting it behind us,” Alicent says coolly, her expression tense as she wrings out her hands, keeping her gaze low so she doesn’t have to meet Rhaenyra’s piercing gaze once more.

This time it’s Rhaenyra’s turn to sigh, hands shoved in her pockets and head low when Alicent turns around to face her. “We can put it behind us but that doesn’t mean we have to pretend it never happened. It’s—we never talked about it, not properly.”

“It was ten years ago, Rhaenyra.” Alicent still can’t bear to look at her. Her heart is still racing, her mind still lingering on how Rhaenyra’s hands had felt around her waist. “We both felt the same about it, it’s over, it’s done, it’s not going to happen again.”

“Right, I know that,” Rhaenyra clears her throat, wiping the skin beneath her nose with the back of her hand, shaking her head softly. “It shouldn’t have happened. I-I took advantage of you and—”

Alicent furrows her brow, whipping her head up to meet her eyes. Rhaenyra will hardly look at her. “Rhaenyra… is that what you think happened?”

“You’re straight, Alicent, you had a boyfriend, it was wrong of me.”

“No, no, don’t tell me that’s what you’ve been telling yourself the last ten years,” Alicent gasps, reaching out for Rhaenyra as if their fingers being intertwined will somehow communicate what she doesn’t quite have the words to say. “Rhaenyra, I initiated it. I was curious and I shouldn’t have used you like that and you had every right to be upset with me after. We were—it was a mistake.”

The word feels like poison on her tongue, the same word she used for the last dinner they had ten years ago. It burned then and it burns now, though she never did quite put her finger on why. When Rhaenyra simply raises her head to look at her instead of saying anything, Alicent clears her throat and continues, “But it doesn’t have to be a mistake that defines us now. I want more than anything for us to be friends again and I don’t want this to… to haunt us.”

Rhaenyra holds their hands between them, thumb rubbing softly against the back of Alicent’s hand. “You’re right, of course, you’re right.”

“Right then, we can be normal around each other, yeah?” Alicent offers with a small smile. “It’s just a bit of dancing. God knows we’ve gotten closer and that’s not even counting the sleeping together—”

Alicent stops herself. It’s the first time she’s said it out loud. She clears her throat, pulling her hands away from Rhaenyra’s and covering her mouth slightly, gnawing on the skin of her thumb out of nerves. She smiles quietly beneath her hand, muttering, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Rhaenyra chuckles. “I think it’s only fair we get to joke about it. It was a long time ago.”

And yet Alicent hasn’t stopped thinking about it.

“Did Criston ever know?” Rhaenyra asks, pursing her lips and crossing her arms.

Alicent shakes her head without hesitation. “Christ, no. He already hated you, I didn’t intend to give him a reason to. Besides… he would have left me. And I wouldn’t have blamed him, either. It was a terrible way to start our engagement.”

“Technically, I think he proposed after.”

“Still.”

“Well, you’ve left him now, so I’d say it cancels out,” Rhaenyra chuckles, biting her lip as if she senses she’s crossed a line.

Alicent raises her eyebrows, “Never told you I was the one who left him, he very well could have left me.”

Rhaenyra looks her up and down, a cheeky grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “I know you, Alicent. You left him.”

Before Alicent can respond, someone finally pushes into the bathroom and their conversation is forced to come to a close. The girl pushes into a stall and Rhaenyra looks at Alicent pointedly. “Why don’t we get back out there? With it all behind us?”

Alicent huffs out a laugh, rolling her eyes softly as she takes Rhaenyra’s hand. “All right, fine.”

Rhaenyra smiles and tugs her out onto the dance floor. Alicent’s phone buzzes in her back pocket and she motions for Rhaenyra to keep going, “I’ll meet you out there, give me a sec.”

First, she sees a text from Marcie, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. Good job!!

Below it, she sees a handful of Twitter notifications.

‘@FilmUpdates: Alicent Hightower and Rhaenyra Targaryen spotted in Florence ahead of filming for ‘Unto Devotion.’ The film, directed by Luca Guadagnino, follows a young woman in Italy after the death of her husband as she timidly begins a new love affair with a fellow traveler. Hightower and Targaryen are set to play the two lovers.’

Alicent sighs, scrolling through the replies even though she knows she shouldn’t. Scrolling through the replies never brings anything good, but she finds herself doing it.

‘@venicebetsh: looks like they’re doing more than just playing lovers’

‘@ancientlovesong: ok i know everyone is talking about the dykery but the outfits here are killer (but also let’s talk about the dykery)’

‘@kieutougf: i can take them both (not in a fight)’

She shuts off her phone with a huff, tapping the device lightly against her hand, contemplating something. Christ, filming hasn’t even started yet and everyone is already assuming they’re dating. Alicent turns her phone back on, going back to the tweet and clicking on the picture of her and Rhaenyra. She looks happy, for one. She has one hand on Rhaenyra’s wrist and the other intertwined with her fingers, her chin just barely against her shoulder. There’s a smile on both of their faces, affection clear between the two of them. Despite it being a sh*tty paparazzi photo taken at night, something about it makes Alicent smile. She saves the photo before shoving it back in her purse and shaking off the nerves.

Alicent finds Rhaenyra waiting for her on the edge of the dance floor. When she spots Alicent’s expression, her brow furrows, asking over the music, “Everything okay?”

A smile finds its way onto her face, nodding and taking Rhaenyra’s offered hand. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s perfect.”

She lets Rhaenyra guide her onto the dance floor, the song something that’s a bit too fast for Alicent to properly get a hang of dancing to, but she tries anyway. Rhaenyra grabs her waist again, the crowd seemingly having gotten worse since the two of them disappeared into the bathroom. This time, the heat doesn’t bother her, nor does the closeness. She breathes in the scent of Rhaenyra, letting it intoxicate her. They’re friends again, they’ve talked about it, she’s allowed to have this.

Alicent brings her arms up around Rhaenyra’s neck, leaning forward and letting their foreheads bump against one another softly. Rhaenyra smiles at her and Alicent smiles back. She feels free for the first time in a truly long time. Leaning forward, she lets her head rest on Rhaenyra’s shoulder, breathing in the cologne against her neck, the scent mixed with her sweat.

(Sweat races down her skin, one hand tangled in Rhaenyra’s long hair as she devours the wetness of her c*nt, Alicent holding onto her for dear life).

She lets the music flood her veins, relishing in the feeling of Rhaenyra against her. Even with the sensory overload, she can’t stop thinking about the past. She wants it behind her more than anything, but every time she’s close to Rhaenyra, all she can think of is being underneath her. If it’s going to keep happening then filming with her is almost certainly going to be a problem.

In her ear, she hears Rhaenyra say, “Get out of your head. Just dance with me.”

“I am dancing with you,” Alicent responds, pulling her head back with a tired grin. Rhaenyra brings a hand up to her face and Alicent blushes, a nervous laugh falling from her lips. “What?”

Rhaenyra shrugs, barely audible over the music, leaning in to say, “I’m just really glad we’re friends again.”

Alicent bites her lip, nodding as she pulls Rhaenyra closer to her. “Me too.”

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

“I’ve never felt like this before in my life,” Alicent rattles off the line, channeling a wistful dreaminess into her voice, allowing the sentence to drift off with a sigh. She’s lounging in her trailer on the first day of being on set, sunlight streaming in through the open windows. She has about an hour before she’ll be thrust into makeup and wardrobe, but for now, she is making the most of her time by running lines. The script with all of her lines highlighted in a baby blue shade is currently being held by Rhaenryra, who sits on the other end of the small couch, facing outward while Alicent sits sideways with her legs kicked up across the blonde’s lap. Rhaenyra’s hand holds her ankle, thumb brushing softly against her skin—something that has become more of a distraction than she would like it to be.

“Like what?” Rhaenyra responds, eyes darting up to look at Alicent, expecting the next line.

“Like half of my soul was missing until we met,” Alicent breathes out, the words shaky on her tongue. She used to run lines with Rhaenyra all the time, she isn’t sure why her hands shake even as she wrings them in her lap. Maybe it’s the thumb brushing against the skin of her ankle. Maybe it’s the way Rhaenyra is looking at her. She clears her throat, “No, that’s not it, is it? I’ve got it wrong.”

“No, you’ve got it right,” Rhaenyra corrects her, shaking her head. “You’re on the right track, don’t stress about it.”

“I’m not stressed,” Alicent lies, feeling her face become taut and her shoulders tense. Of course, she’s stressed, it’s the first day of filming and all she can think about is Rhaenyra. She’s a professional, she doesn’t plan on forgetting her lines, but with Rhaenyra this close, she thinks she could forget anything. “I’m fine. Let’s just keep going then. You’re sure it’s right?”

Rhaenyra nods with a small smile, “Like half of my soul was missing until we met. Word for word. Trust yourself, Alicent, you’ve always had an insane memory.”

“Says the stage actor, you probably had this thing memorized after one read-through,” Alicent scoffs, reaching for the script so she can read the stage directions again. It’s strange to be returning to old habits with Rhaenyra now—especially given the conversation they had at the club. Alicent thought things would be weird. Even though they talked about it, Alicent knows they’ve barely scratched the surface of everything that happened between the two of them and surely that freshly reopened wound would lead to tension between them, but it’s all been shockingly normal. Alicent finds herself, once again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You don’t even need to have the whole thing memorized, really, just the scenes we’re doing this week,” Rhaenyra reminds her, stealing the script back and sifting through the pages. “Getting all these villa scenes out of the way for the first month or so is going to be… interesting.”

Alicent rolls her eyes, watching the sunlight coat Rhaenyra’s soft expression as she flips through scenes and pages. Alicent has neatly tabbed her script according to the filming schedule as well as written notes to herself in the margins, something she’s been doing for months, long before Rhaenyra came back into her life. She does it with every script—finding it therapeutic to try and understand a character before having to actually step into their shoes. She doesn’t have to be a genius to know by the way Rhaenyra’s eyes skim the margins that she’s reading Alicent’s notes.

“Why do you say that?” Alicent asks, her voice quiet, all thoughts of running lines fleeting as she instead watches Rhaenyra read. She feels sort of embarrassed as if Rhaenyra had instead gotten her hands on her journal rather than a film script. She isn’t sure why—half the time she doesn’t even remember the silly things she writes, but she’s certain there’s nothing overwhelmingly embarrassing in there.

Rhaenyra looks up at her and shrugs, still thumbing through the script. With each passing moment of her continuing to read, Alicent feels her heart rate picking up. “Just feels like diving head first into it. I mean, we’re already practicing love confessions before we’re filming their first meeting. I don’t know, feels sort of funny.”

Alicent huffs out a quiet laugh, “Maybe it’s because more often than not people dive headfirst into love.”

Rhaenyra shoots her a pointed look.

“It’s probably just because we’re getting our interior scenes out of the way,” she relents with a soft smile, “but knowing Luca, I really wouldn’t put it past him to have some sort of deeper meaning behind the shooting order. Either way, I think the scenes will turn out fine.”

“Of course, they will, it’s me and you,” Rhaenyra comments easily and their eyes meet. For a moment, Alicent’s racing heart stills. She wonders what that might mean—after all, they’ve never worked together before, not like this, so it’s not as if Rhaenyra has a prior example of it to go off of. Alicent wonders if maybe she says it because it’ll be easy for the two of them to pretend to be in love. But aren’t they in love already? Alicent has always thought of their friendship as a relationship, in a way, even if it wasn’t romantic. They had an easy push-and-pull, their chemistry and flow always lining up when it needed to. Surely that’s what Rhaenyra was talking about. Not romance.

“Right,” Alicent nods, a warm smile on her face. “Just the first day jitters, I suppose. Let’s get back to lines.”

An hour and a half later, Alicent finds herself with her auburn curls loose down her back, curled just a bit tighter than her natural coil, wearing a simple white tank top and a long red skirt with a gold-accented pattern. Wardrobe shoves her into a pair of sandals and she sighs, looking at herself in the mirror. For the most part, she looks like herself—much different from a film she did a handful of years ago that involved bleaching her eyebrows—just a breezier, summery version of herself. It was nice to look at, simple.

She steps out to meet Luca with a smile on her face. He grabs her hands and asks, “You ready to become Carina?”

“With you at the helm, how could I not be?” she responds with a gentle laugh before seeing Rhaenyra walk out of make-up. It’s an incredibly simple costume—a white wifepleaser and denim shorts that stop just above her knee, but her arms are on full display. Make-up has covered up her tattoos, for which Alicent briefly mourns, but they’ve graciously sprayed a thin sheen of sweat (also known as a spray bottle filled with water) onto Rhaenyra’s face and she looks fantastic.

“And my Jo! Perfect, let’s get rolling,” Luca claps, heading off towards their first set where they’ll be for the majority of the day as they tackle three specific scenes that take place in the same bedroom. Alicent catches Rhaenrya’s eye and she smiles at her. An instant wave of calm washes over Alicent and she thinks of her words from the trailer. It’s me and you. Of course, it’ll be easy.

They reach their marks and hear the notes from Luca, which Alicent takes with a gentle nod. The two of them had met for coffee several times since she was cast, along with their screenwriter, Eleanor, to go over their goals for Carina.

(“I think she’d feel guilty,” Alicent observes, thumbing through the pages of the script. Her americano is still steaming as Luca looks at her expectantly, having asked her the initial thoughts she’s having with the character. “I mean, not only is her husband dead, but she’s falling in love with a woman. It feels like she’s dishonoring him as she’s discovering this part of herself as if all of it was some lie. She is a lesbian, yes? I know there are some lines that lend itself to bisexuality, but honestly, I think it could just be compulsory heterosexuality.”

“It’s exactly that, how’d you know?” Eleanor asks with a pleased expression on her face. “I wanted her to be unsure of it for a bit, clinging to the image of herself that came with her marriage more than the marriage itself. She’s thinking well surely I had to have liked him at some point or else this was all for nothing and he died having never been truly loved.”

Alicent shakes her head, “It’s not true, though. I think her love for him was incredibly real, I mean, his loss has completely debilitated her. The love is there, it’s just… different than it should have been. She feels guilty for loving differently.”

“But it doesn’t change the truth of the matter,” Luca adds, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair with a soft smile on his face. “In clinging to the marriage, she’s clinging to a lie. She needs to understand that grief can be separated from self-discovery.”

“Compulsory heterosexuality is rooted in guilt and fear,” Eleanor defines, leaning forward to take a sip of her coffee. “She felt like she had to be with David, but is that dedication not in and of itself love?”

“It is. But it’s a love that exists as a betrayal of the self,” Alicent sighs, writing that down in her margins. “She can’t love him without ignoring this part of herself that craves the honesty of it all and Jo—Jo awakens that for her. It all leads back to Jo.)

At some point, Eleanor had asked Alicent how she grew to be so insightful on the character—how she seemed to understand her internal battle so innately. Alicent held no answer for her. Eleanor herself was a lesbian; Alicent figured it was obvious in the script, perhaps because it was pulled from personal experiences. She tried not to think too much of it.

The filming of the first scene goes easily—it had been a simple conversation, one of the two characters’ first conversations alone together. Back in wardrobe, this time with her hair tied up loosely—not dissimilar to the way Rhaenyra had tied it up for her the other week at the club, not that she’s still thinking about that night. It’s been hours, but they only have three scenes and it’s just Rhaenyra and Alicent on the call sheet today. Tomorrow, they’ll have Ella, who’s playing Alicent’s younger sister in the film, which couldn’t be more uncanny. Today, though, all they have to worry about is each other.

True to form, they had no issues with the first scene. She and Rhaenyra had their lines down, delivered in a way that seemed to please Luca well enough, and the only holdbacks had been getting specific shots and angles. The crew worked on getting some B-roll shots while the two of them went back to make-up.

Alicent loved the routine of a film set. Everything was always moving, even if Alicent may not be. There were about a million cogs that went into making a film, but it always seemed to operate like a well-oiled machine. Having worked with Luca before, Alicent has a basic understanding of what he’s looking for from Alicent and the meetings about her character certainly helped establish that. It’s a story of discovery first and foremost and falling in love is simply a catalyst for that discovery. So that’s what Alicent is trying to focus on. Not how dreamy of a love interest Rhaenyra is proving to be.

This time, they’re filming a morning scene which means Alicent has been thrown into a large t-shirt (that, of course, belongs to her fictional ex-husband) and some sleep shorts. Back on set, she’s met with the intimacy coordinator, Tamara. Even though it’s a tame scene with nothing more than some kissing, she’s there to supervise and work closely with Luca to make sure the choreography and blocking is giving what they want from the scene.

Rhaenyra comes up next to her while Tamara is explaining, “You’re waking up together for the first time—nothing happened, of course, but it feels like something is happening. You’re just beginning to explore each other, get comfortable. Kisses are going to be lazy, slow, and sweet—it’s that sickly honeymoon phase. And of course, it starts to heat up just enough before we cut the scene, we’ve been over this already, but any questions?”

Alicent shakes her head and the two of them share a look. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, heart fluttering at the thought of kissing Rhaenyra again. Of things heating up. Her stomach does flips.

(Alicent didn’t allow herself to kiss Rhaenyra at first—it was just easier if they didn’t, it complicated things. More than they were already currently complicating things. But with Rhaenyra situated between her thighs, hands exploring every inch of Alicent’s exposed skin, she can’t help but tilt her head down and let Rhaenyra’s lips meet hers. It starts off soft, slow, but soon deepens to match the passion of their situation. It’s intoxicating; kissing Rhaenyra is a newfound addiction. Alicent relishes in the taste of her, something turning in her stomach alongside the ever-present desire.)

This time, their marks start off with them in bed. Alicent can’t help but chuckle softly as she watches Rhaenyra flop into bed, letting herself adjust accordingly as Luca frames the shot using the information they already gathered from stand-ins earlier. Once she’s settled, Alicent joins her, practically hanging off of Rhaenyra with her head against her chest as Rhaenyra’s arm settles against her back, thumb just barely brushing against her waist. Her heart races and she’s almost certain Rhaenyra can feel it. Though, when she presses her head against Rhaenyra’s chest as she’s directed, she can hear her heartbeat going twice as fast as it should be. Her cheeks flush pink slightly, but she doesn’t acknowledge it.

Luca watches them for a moment, seeming to contemplate something before asking, “Rhaenyra, actually, I want your hand in her hair, affectionate, absent-minded like it’s natural. You’re comfortable around Carina, she’s comfortable around Jo.”

Rhaenyra nods, her hand shifting to run softly against Alicent’s scalp, playing with the strands falling loose from the updo. Her hair had been kept messy, as if she had fallen asleep with it up without intending to, and Rhaenyra was happily brushing her hands through what had begun to fall out.

Distantly, there’s a countdown and then all of a sudden, they’re rolling.

“Good morning,” Rhaenyra says softly, bringing the hand not in Alicent’s hair to cover her mouth as she stifles a yawn. Alicent watches her head as she turns to the window (a window that’s been blocked out so as not to mess with the lighting of the scene), “We slept in.”

Alicent groans, lifting head head slightly and rubbing her eye as if she’s just awoken. She looks around for a moment before her gaze once again lands on Rhaenyra. She’s used to having her friend this close—after all, in their daily lives, they were almost always touching, but it’s different like this. For a moment, Alicent doesn’t even think about the cameras or the dozens of people watching them supposedly wake up. Instead, it just feels like some Sunday morning ten years ago when the two of them would fall asleep crammed into a full-size bed watching movies on Rhaenyra’s old laptop.

“We should probably get some breakfast, I’m sure Marcella has some leftover,” Alicent hums, but doesn’t move from her position.

“Yeah, we should,” Rhaenyra comments before leaning forward, as Jo, and pressing her lips to Alicent’s, as Carina. She tastes the same as Alicent remembers and soon she finds herself melting into it—though, of course, remembering to stay in character. For a moment, their kisses are languid and she’s distantly aware of Luca directing their movements with Tamara beside him, the two of them exchanging ideas in whispers. Luca tells her to press one hand against the mattress and push herself up so she does, letting Rhaenyra— Jo, she tries to tell herself—chase her, the two of them breaking apart briefly before Alicent smiles into the next kiss, bringing a hand to Rhaenyra’s cheek as she’s told.

Soon enough, though, the dynamic changes. Something deepens. Rhaenyra pushes Alicent— Carina, Carina, Carina, into the mattress, shifting their positions and swinging a leg over Alicent’s hips, her back arching slightly. Alicent brings her hand up to trace her spine, lifting the hem of her t-shirt slightly. Rhaenyra’s flesh beneath her touch is soft, the movements becoming all too familiar.

Before she can get too ahead of herself, though, there’s the sound cue and both of them break their kiss to turn their heads towards what will eventually be a sound downstairs but for now is just a tech knocking on a piece of wood. After that, Rhaenyra turns back to Alicent, undoing her hair completely, pressing another soft kiss to her lips before saying, “So, breakfast, then?”

“And cut,” Luca’s voice rings out and Alicent finds herself returning to reality. A reality in which she and Rhaenyra are not lovers waking up in bed together, but instead co-stars. Friends, maybe. Working together on a movie set. It’s a role, nothing more. The only reason Alicent’s heart is racing is because of nerves. “You two are just magnificent, truly. Okay, I want to try another take, but this time I want to see Carina take control—this is her moment and I’m curious to see how something like that will manifest here. Okay, let’s get hair for Alicent and then we’ll start from marks.”

The spell is broken as Alicent sits up—girls from hair and makeup coming to put the two of them back together for the scene once more. Alicent shoots a look over at Rhaenyra as one woman swipes lip balm onto her bottom lip and another ties up her hair the same way it was before. There’s a faint blush on Rhaenyra’s cheeks when she looks at Alicent, eyes darting away from her gaze.

It should feel weird, but it doesn’t. She’s done romantic scenes with a handful of people in the past—scenes far worse than kissing, and it’s always carried a sort of air of awkwardness, especially when she had to kiss Harwin for a film—someone she’s been friends with for ages. With Rhaenyra, though, it’s easy. It’s already the most comfortable she’s ever felt with a co-star, and considering she’s had mostly positive experiences, it actually is really saying something. Make-up and hair leave the sound stage and they’re called back to their marks. Alicent finds herself with her head pressed against Rhaenyra’s chest once more.

“And… action!”

“I can’t believe you were nervous about the confession scene,” Rhaenyra scoffs on their walk home from a late dinner. Thankfully, they were in Europe which means most dinner places were open until well past midnight, something Alicent is grateful for considering they didn’t get off set until 8pm. It wasn’t too hard of a day, though, considering they got there around ten for a late start. It had only been natural for she and Rhaenyra to grab dinner after—to celebrate the first day of shooting, of course. “You did it brilliantly, I honestly can’t believe you got the monologue in one.”

“Weren’t you the one saying I have a perfect memory? Why are you surprised?” Alicent laughs. “If anyone did great, it was you. I mean, you almost brought me to tears, Rhaenyra, truly, it wasn’t even supposed to be that emotional of a scene, but it just bleeds from you. I—I think this is going to be the easiest film I’ve ever made, I mean, even kissing you—”

Alicent stops herself, clearing her throat as they step up to their apartment building. A night that ends with the two of them going home to separate apartments, but Alicent has a sinking feeling she’s going to spend the rest of the night thinking about the scene they shot earlier today.

Rhaenyra leans against the stone wall, watching Alicent pause to light up a cigarette. She half-expected Rhaenyra to keep walking, their night together coming to a close, but instead she just lingers, watching Alicent. “I thought you quit.”

“Old habits die hard,” Alicent shrugs, but she’s not talking about the cigarettes. She watches Rhaenyra watch her. She takes a long drag, hoping it’ll calm the racing in her chest and the shaking in her fingers. After a moment, she bites her lip and turns away from Rhaenyra’s gaze. “I took it up again during the divorce. Well, during the last few years of our marriage, if I’m being entirely honest. He hated it, though, which meant I spent a fortune on laundry detergent and perfume. He never caught me. Or, he did, and just didn’t care enough to call me out on it.”

Rhaenyra is quiet for a long moment, but Alicent can still feel her gaze on her. Eventually, she asks, “Why did you marry him?”

It’s not the question anybody asks. All she’s ever been asked since the news broke is why are you leaving him? No one ever asked her why she did it in the first place. She takes another drag, longer this time, until she coughs and has to clear her throat for a moment.

She knows what the answer should be. I loved him. I wanted to. I wanted to marry him. Those should have been the answer. Instead, she says, “He asked.”

She sighs after the fact, realizing just how pathetic that sounds. Alicent tosses her cigarette to the ground and crushes it under her boot before turning to face Rhaenyra again with crossed arms. Rhaenyra’s expression is calm, just listening to Alicent talk. “I don’t know, Rhaenyra. We had just slept together and everything was a f*cking mess and he—he asked. And I saw a way out.”

“A way out of what?” Rhaenyra asks, her voice gentle. “Did you think I was going to hold it against you?”

“Christ, no, I don’t know what I thought,” Alicent struggles to think of the right words to say as she yanks open the door to their building and begins taking the stairs at a rapid pace. Rhaenyra follows just behind her and when she reaches her own door, she takes a pause. She and Rhaenyra linger in the hallway, but they both know where it’s going to end up.

Alicent opens her door without a word, nodding towards the inside. Rhaenyra takes the cue for what it is—both of them knowing this conversation is far from over. Alicent is beginning to think the only thing they might be able to talk about is one night that happened ten years ago.

“I wasn’t mad at you for what happened,” is the first thing Alicent thinks to say, closing the door behind her and leaning up against it. Rhaenyra settles down against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. “I don’t know how to be mad at you, you should know that by now. The thing with Criston is—everyone loved us together. Our film did excellent because of it and it only made sense to keep it going. When he proposed, everything between us had just happened and it was the clearest option for me. It was… familiar. More familiar than what I had done to our friendship. So, there it is. That’s why I married him.”

Rhaenyra nods, biting her lip softly before her eyes meet Alicent’s. “Do you think… and you can punch me for even thinking of this, let alone asking it, but do you think if we never slept together then you wouldn’t have married him?”

Alicent melts. The tensions slips from her body as she looks to Rhaenyra with wide, glassy eyes. “Rhaenyra.”

“No, I know, I shouldn’t—”

She steps across the small distance and pulls Rhaenyra into a hug. It’s less casual than the one from dinner last month, fiercer, laced with the essence of missing one another. Alicent feels the way Rhaenyra buries her face into her neck and her only response is to hold her tighter.

“I don’t know what I would have done, Rhaenyra,” Alicent whispers against her scalp, feeling Rhaenyra shift against her. “But I do know that if I knew marrying him would have made me lose you, I’d have said no in a heartbeat.”

Rhaenyra sighs, pulling back slightly to say through teary eyes, “I don’t know what you want me to do with that.”

Alicent just shrugs, the two of them bursting into a short, forlorn bit of laughter. She wipes her own eyes, sniffling slightly. “I don’t want you to ever think I regret anything we did, Rhaenyra, all I regret is letting it get between us. But he’s gone. It’s over and even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. We can’t go back in time.”

“Sometimes I really wish we could.”

“Me too,” Alicent sighs, brushing a loose strand of hair out of Rhaenyra’s face. Looking at her softly for a moment, she pulls back and opens the fridge, grabbing out two bottles of beer and handing one over to Rhaenyra who takes it with a small smile. “I think this conversation constitutes a drink.”

She watches Rhaenyra grab her keys out of her pocket, using the bottle opener she keeps on her keychain to open their drinks before handing it back over to Alicent. “As long as you promise me alcohol isn’t the only thing in your fridge right now.”

Alicent rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s a couple of oranges in there, too.”

Rhaenyra scoffs, grabbing Alicent’s wrist and tugging her over towards the couch. “Enough talking about marriages and the past and what ifs, what do you think about the film so far?”

She raises her eyebrows, kicking off her heels and pulling her legs up onto the couch, wrapping an arm around them and staring at Rhaenyra, who spreads out on the other side. It’s a mirror of their positions in the trailer earlier today only this time Alicent is scared of what might happen if she lets herself reach out and make contact with Rhaenyra. She needs to control her thoughts, she can’t allow herself to get so in her head every single time Rhaenyra’s skin brushes against hers. She’s a mature adult—she can be friends with someone she’s slept with. She’s done it in the past, back in her college days, it was easy to be friends with boys who had been one night stands or almost hook-ups. She isn’t sure why it feels so different with Rhaenyra.

“I think if every day is like today then we’ll have this wrapped in no time,” Alicent chuckles. “I don’t know why we’ve never worked together before, I think it’s helping me a lot.”

Rhaenyra nods, taking a long swig of her beer before responding. “Well, it’s easier to work together, I think, when you’re actually speaking to each other. I’m sure you remember we were previously estranged.”

“Estranged,” Alicent laughs, “Jilted ex-lovers, how could I forget? Come on, don’t tell me today wasn’t a breeze for you, too.”

She can’t help but remember the way Rhaenyra’s heart had raced when Alicent laid her head against her chest. She almost blushes at the thought, but instead hides it behind a sip of her drink.

“Of course, it was a breeze, I told you it would be,” Rhaenyra chastises, stretching out across the couch. Alicent can’t help it, she pulls Rhaenyra’s legs onto her own, the two settling into a comfortable position they were more than used to. “Now, what are you going to do with our delightfully late call time tomorrow?”

Alicent shrugs, “Well, I just got to season three on my Sex and the City rewatch, so… big things.”

Rhaenyra laughs, nodding towards the TV. “Put it on, then, let me see what this is all about.”

She rolls her eyes, but reaches for the remote anyway. Rhaenyra’s skin is warm against hers and the beer bubbles as it goes down her throat. The TV starts up and she shoots a glance in Rhaenyra’s direction, watching the way her eyes shift focus to the screen. She likes watching Rhaenyra when she doesn’t know she’s being watched. Something about how relaxed she looks in Alicent’s apartment is beginning to get to her. Her heart swells with affection, thinking about how broken Rhaenyra had looked just moments ago, but now the tension between them is eased. Alicent smiles softly to herself before switching over to where she’s been streaming her favorite show.

Disantly, she lets her wrist rest on Rhaenyra’s ankle, slipping slightly up her pant leg without even really thinking about it. Rhaenyra shifts beneath her, but doesn’t pull away. She rubs patterns into skin with her thumb, pressing play on the last episode she had been on. The small touch isn’t enough, not after today, not after the last decade. Alicent doesn’t think much as she finishes the rest of her beer, placing it down on the coffee table. She pushes Rhaenyra’s legs off of her.

“Hey!” Rhaenyra groans, re-adjusting slightly, looking offended, waiting to see what Alicent’s next move will be with a furrowed brow. To give her some credit, Alicent isn’t entirely sure either. She just needs to be close to Rhaenyra, close to her the way they used to be. She isn’t sure why, but she’s not in the mood to deny herself this one little thing.

Alicent just rolls her eyes, “Oh, shut up, give me a second.”

She switches over so she’s laying down on the same side as Rhaenyra and she gets the idea relatively quickly. Rhaenyra pushes herself into the back cushions to make room for Alicent, one hand coming up around her chest and keeping her close. Alicent relaxes into her, using Rhaenyra as her own personal pillow—something she missed dearly. Carrie is talking about Big and she can feel Rhaenyra’s breath against her ear. And she feels at peace.

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Alicent wakes up with Rhaenyra still around her, the two of them having fallen asleep on the couch. Her alarm letting her know she needs to be up for her call time goes off and the Netflix are you still watching screen is glaring at her from the television. Alicent groans, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she extricates herself from a still-waking Rhaenyra. For a moment, she pauses to look down at her—her hair’s a mess and her shirt is half pushed up to reveal a toned stomach beneath. Rhaenyra’s eyes are still closed, even though she stirred, so Alicent allows herself a moment to trace the lines of Rhaenyra’s body with her eyes. She bites her lip, eyes drifting to her abs before she forces herself, pulling away from the couch in favor of shutting off her alarm and going for a shower. Maybe it needs to be a cold one.

“What time is it?” Rhaenyra asks from the couch, her voice rough and groggy with sleep.

From her bedroom, Alicent shouts back, “Ten. I’m gonna pop a shower really quick, you’re more than welcome to hang out, though.”

Rhaenyra groans, the sound turning into a yawn that makes Alicent crack a smile. She pulls her top over her head and reaches for the clothes she plans to wear to set. Peering through the crack in the door, she pauses. Still in her bra, she realizes she can see Rhaenyra sorting around in the kitchen. As if sensing the eyes on her, Rhaenyra looks up, blushing when she sees Alicent’s vague state of undress. Alicent clears her throat, not moving to close the door, but she moves away from it, grabbing what she needs and heading back into the bathroom. She ties her hair up before she steps into the shower, running hands over her face and blaming it on a rough sleep. Rhaenyra spending the night is nothing new—even when they were living together they would more often than not fall asleep in the same bed or on the couch tangled together. So she isn’t sure why it has her heart racing like this.

After her shower, she finds Rhaenyra still there, sitting at her kitchen table scrolling through her phone with a cup of coffee in her hand. She looks up at Alicent, drops of water still drying on her shoulders around her tank top and pushes over another cup of coffee she prepared for Alicent. Alicent nods her thanks as she works to get her watch latched around her wrist with one hand.

She plops down into the chair and checks the time as she reaches for the cup of coffee, taking a sip before saying, “Okay, we have to be on set in an hour, it’ll take us thirty to get there, you want to just drive together, I’m assuming?”

Rhaenyra nods, still looking at something on her phone. Alicent furrows her brow, wondering what could have captured her attention so innately, feeling almost a pang of jealousy. Jealousy over a phone. She might be going insane. “Sorry, I’m listening, I promise. Did you know Twitter thinks we’re dating?”

“Dating or PR relationship?” Alicent huffs out a laugh, placing her coffee mug gently back down on the table. “What are you looking at?”

Rhaenyra looks hesitant, but holds out her phone anyway.

‘@rhaenuisance: okay but do we think they got together before or after the divorce because they look mighty cuddly for having just reunited

—@luqinblack: no like the rpf is rpfing i cant help it

—@fictionalg1rl: even if it was before the divorce idgaf someone had to free her from that hag’

“Hag,” Alicent snickers, “He’s only a few years older than me. Pay no mind to people, I think Criston is still beating me in terms of the amount of cheating rumors.”

“Did he ever?” Rhaenyra asks as she takes her phone back, clearing her throat as she stops herself. “Sorry, that’s incredibly rude, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

Alicent shoots her a pointed look. “I think you should know by now, Rhaenyra, that there are very few questions you can’t ask me. For the most part, I’m an open book to you, that hasn’t changed. And not that I know of, though I wouldn’t be surprised. He would be… out late, hanging out with certain co-stars more than usual, dodging me, so I’m sure it’s possible. I just… I don’t think I ever cared enough to ask. It sounds pathetic—”

“It’s not,” Rhaenyra stops her before she can ramble too long. “Maybe a little bit, but you’ve left him now so it’s a bit better. I think it’s kind of fun—a little scandal to promote the film, hm? Maybe we can convince them we were sleeping together for most of your marriage and we kept our distance in the public eye to avert suspicion.”

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent chastises, downing the rest of her coffee and slamming the mug down. A small laugh escapes her mouth, wondering just how much Marcie would kill her if she decided to act like she’d been having an affair. “Enough. People can believe anything they want to believe with us and that’s fine, but I’m not going to lie to anyone about what we are. Now, go get ready, I don’t want to be late to set waiting for you.”

“All right, all right,” Rhaenyra sighs standing up from the table. “Thanks for letting me crash, even if it was unintentional. Feels just like old times, yeah?”

“Stop getting nostalgic, just go shower, you stink,” Alicent teases, batting away Rhaenyra’s hand when it tries to ruffle her hair. Rhaenyra just laughs and washes out her mug before disappearing through the front door without another word.

Alicent laughs quietly to herself, pulling up Twitter on her own phone to scroll through her timeline and see what else people are saying. Part of her knows she shouldn’t, she always knows this, but it’s too entertaining. She needs to know what people are saying because as long as she knows, she can control it.

‘@alicentscult: you know romance movies are back when they throw co-stars into a pr relationship right at the start of filming though idgaf consider me baited they’re a hot couple

—@marikashugefan: maybe im dumb but did alicent ever come out?? I didn’t know she was a lesbian

—@nyratargs: me neither, but like look at the materiallll… i’m living for it’

Alicent sighs, taking a deep shuddering breath. Lesbian. It’s ridiculous. All because she’s been photographed a couple of times with her old friend. Even if they did look… particularly cozy. Alicent pulls the photo up from her library, focusing on the smile on her face. She can’t remember the last time she looked so happy in a paparazzi photo. There was a small collection of her looking utterly miserable—there’s a particular favorite of hers that involves her smoking a cigarette on her balcony with smudged mascara and a defeated look on her face that always reminds her of a certain Ben Affleck photo. She remembers the night well. It was a morning after a fight with Criston and he had left for the night. She remembered lighting up in the morning and hoping he wouldn’t come back. Unfortunately for her, he had.

She exits out of Twitter and clicks on Marcie’s contact, pressing the phone to her ear as she listens to it ring. The moment it connects, she hardly lets Marcie speak, instead, asking, “What are we going to do about the lesbian thing?”

“The lesbian thing?” Marcie asks with a lighthearted tone in her voice. She’s still in New York, meaning it’s the middle of the night for her right now, something Alicent only feels mildly bad about. Her heart is racing too much due to the posts she saw, though, she needs the comfort of someone who knows what to do about this. “It’s harmless, Alicent, people love to speculate on celebrity sexualities, it’s like America’s favorite pastime for the under twenty-five crowd. Plus, if people think you’re a lesbian, they’ll be quicker to understand why you left Criston. It’s kind of a win-win. How did you know anyway? I thought I told you to delete Twitter.”

“When have I ever listened to you in terms of deleting social media?” Alicent sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know, it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I mean, they couldn’t have mine and Rhaenyra’s relationship any more wrong and I hate knowing they can just… say things like that with no proof other than a spare paparazzi photo.”

“I mean, you two did look particularly cozy,” Marcie levels with her with a gentle sigh. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I told you to reach out to her prior to filming, but honestly, it’s working for you, Alicent. People love a decades long Hollywood friendship—I mean, just look at Damon and Affleck, it’s still buzz even after twenty years. And… Alicent, if there was something going on between the two of you—”

“There isn’t,” Alicent shuts her down quickly and fiercely, her voice becoming almost aggressive before she lets out a heavy breath, running a hand through her hair. “I mean, obviously we’re friends again, but there’s… there’s nothing else. I’m not—we don’t have to worry about my sexuality.”

Marcie sounds like she doesn’t believe her, something Alicent doesn’t take with a grain of salt. “Okay, Alicent, but if there was it would be okay. It’s not the nineties anymore, people love gay celebrities. I mean, I’m pretty sure Rhaenyra has a small cult of Twitter lesbians that would defend her every action. It wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t, but that doesn’t matter because there’s nothing for me to tell,” Alicent sniffs, clearing her throat slightly as she considers what it is Marcie is implying. “I have to get to set, but call me if you need me to release any statements on the situation.”

“Okay, I won’t, but okay,” Marcie says before hanging up the phone.

Alicent sits there for a quiet moment, tapping the corner of her phone absentmindedly against the counter. She thinks of what Marcie is implying. People love gay celebrities these days. That’s all well and good, of course, but it’s not something she needs to worry about. Certainly, she would know if she had something to share. After all, she’s certain she would have figured something out after she slept with Rhaenyra, but all she felt was sh*tty and confused. She had upset Rhaenyra and ruined things with Criston—even if he didn’t know it—dooming herself to a marriage with a man she was mostly impartial towards. She wasn’t sure it could have led her to a revelation if she wanted it to.

Her train of thought is interrupted when there’s a knock at her door, soon followed by it opening to reveal Rhaenyra, fresh from a shower, now clad in a different t-shirt and jeans, her hair still wet. “Are you calling the car or am I? Alicent, are you okay?”

Alicent nods frantically, rubbing her eyes as she turns to face Rhaenyra. “Yeah, yeah, no everything’s fine. Just… thinking about stuff.”

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes at the answer, sitting down across from her and bumping her ankle against Alicent’s beneath the table. The brief contact makes her smile softly, meeting her eyes across the gap. “The lesbian stuff. I don’t know why it bothers me that people think those things. Maybe I’m an undercover hom*ophobe and I just don’t know it.”

This makes Rhaenyra laugh out loud—Alicent should feel stupid, but instead it causes a wave of comfort to wash over her. “Alicent, I don’t think most hom*ophobes have slept with their lesbian best friend. Or, you know, had a lesbian best friend, but that’s neither here nor there. Look, it’s an invasion of privacy for them to speculate about that sort of stuff, trust me, I get it. I mean, people were theorizing on my sexuality years before I came out, it sucks.”

“That’s not fair because in your case, they were kind of right,” Alicent huffs out a small laugh, pulling out her phone to call the car so they can actually make it to set on time. Something she’s not going to do is let personal matters derail her need to be professional.

Rhaenyra looks at her for a long moment and Alicent wonders what she sees. She must look pathetic, sitting here whining over Twitter rumors that virtually have no effect on her whatsoever. Marcie is right—there’s no issue, especially if there’s no truth to the matter. After a moment, Rhaenyra looks down at her hands, wringing her hands together nervously. “And they’re not… right for you?”

“Rhaenyra, we’ve talked about this.”

“You’re right, that was out of line,” Rhaenyra sighs, standing up from the table and running a hand through her wet hair. Alicent watches her, sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window and bathing her in golden rays. The rumors aren’t true, Alicent knows this. But does she really? She thinks back to what she said about Carina.

(“She can’t love him without ignoring this part of herself that craves the honesty of it all and Jo—Jo awakens that for her. It all leads back to Jo.”)

It all leads back to Rhaenyra. She said yes to Criston’s proposal because she felt guilty for sleeping with Rhaenyra—guilty for enjoying it as much as she did. Guilty for wanting to do it again. Not that she ever admitted it to herself. After things happened with Rhaenyra, she convinced herself it would never happen again and in turn convinced herself she didn’t want it to happen again. But sitting here, watching Rhaenyra stretch just so the hem of her shirt rides up a bit and she catches a sliver of her stomach. Back then, after it was all over, Alicent wanted it to happen again. Part of her might still want it to happen again. Maybe that would explain why she’s been eyeing Rhaenyra up like she’s the poster on the wall of a horny teenager. But admitting that means admitting something else, something else she isn’t sure she wants to put her finger on.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to push my own… whatever on you, that was rude,” Rhaenyra sighs. “Is the car here yet?”

“Not quite,” Alicent hums, looking down at her phone and using it as an excuse to avoid continuing to check Rhaenyra out. “Rhaenyra, I don’t think I’ve ever really asked how you felt about… everything that happened. I mean… was it… was it good for you?”

Rhaenyra furrows her brow, leaning with her hands on the back of the chair. “Are you asking me if you were good in bed ten years after the fact?”

“That’s not—” Alicent blushes, hiding her gaze before admitting, “Kind of, yeah. I don’t know. Just thinking about what might have happened between us if things with Criston hadn’t panned out the way they did.”

“We would’ve been friends,” Rhaenyra reminds her, gaze anxiously shooting down to where Alicent’s phone is still facing up on the table with the car’s status. “Of course, we would’ve still been friends, Alicent.”

She runs a hand through her hair, sighing softly as she keeps her eyes trained away from Rhaenyra. If she looks at her, she’ll somehow manage to talk herself out of asking what she desperately wants to ask. “What if we weren’t? What if there had been something more?”

“You told me that wasn’t possible, so I swallowed it and moved on,” Rhaenyra says, though her voice chokes up slightly. At those words, Alicent can’t help but whip around to look at her, feeling the way her hair rustles against her shoulders with the sharp movement. Bewilderment must show on her face because Rhaenyra smiles, a smile with a sort of sadness to it. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Alicent. How could I not have been in love with you? Even a little bit?”

Alicent smiles back at her, a blush filling her cheeks as she brushes loose strands away from her face. “And you’re not anymore, then?”

Rhaenyra shrugs. “Wouldn’t matter if I was.”

Her phone dings with the arrival of the car and for a moment, Alicent wants to smash her phone against the wall and continue this conversation, call times be damned, but she knows she can’t. Instead, she stands up from the table and grabs her shoes from beside the door, shoving them on and avoiding Rhaenyra’s eyes. She can feel her gaze piercing against her back, the unsaid aspects of their conversation still left hanging in the air. Alicent hates it, she hates it all. She just wants things to be settled with the two of them but then she has to ruin it all by going and asking Rhaenyra if she was in love with her. The entitlement of it all. She’s acting truly ridiculous.

Before she can reach for the door, Rhaenrya walks over and grabs her wrist, gently forcing her to face her. “Don’t be angry with me, please. Everything is fine now, it was a long time ago, I don’t want you to worry that I’m only around you because I’m secretly hoping you’re going to sleep with me again.”

Alicent sighs, leaning against the door for a moment even though she knows they are very quickly running out of time to have this conversation. She looks at Rhaenyra’s sad eyes and all she wants to do is caress her face, but she holds back. The last thing she wants to do right now is give Rhaenyra any sort of mixed signals. It would help if Alicent even knew what signals she did want to send.

“I hate that you think I would ever think so lowly about you, Rhaenyra.” Alicent bites her lip and gives into her urges, bringing one hand up to hold Rhaenyra’s sharp jaw in her hand. “I’m not worried about it. Like we talked about, we can’t waste time worrying about the what ifs, yeah? All we can do now is carry on how we want and we can’t keep worrying about what might have been if…”

If what? Alicent isn’t sure. If she had let herself continue to desire Rhaenyra? Said no to Criston? Where would they be if that were the case? Would they be the lovers everyone seems to see in them? Alicent tries to picture it—dating Rhaenyra. She doesn’t think it would be much different than they already are now, a thought that settles restlessly within her, only she wouldn’t have to shy away from touching Rhaenyra, from kissing her.

“The car is waiting,” Rhaenyra interrupts her train of thought and suddenly, she’s beginning to realize just how close they are. Alicent remembers yesterday—how it had felt with Rhaenyra’s lips on hers for the first time in years, how right it had felt. She thinks back to kissing Criston. Even on their wedding day she had struggled to be happy with where she was, who she was with. Kissing him on the altar was supposed to be joyous, but all she had felt was a lingering sense of dread. She felt none of that with Rhaenyra—even when it was fake, even years ago when it was a heat of the moment affair. All she had ever felt was a desire to do it more and more.

“Right,” Alicent concurs, finally reaching for the door and opening it, pulling herself away from Rhaenyra. As soon as there is space between them, though, she yearns for it to be closed once more. Instead of giving in, though, she takes off down the stairs without giving Rhaenyra another look, listening to the steady beat of her footsteps behind her as they head out the front door. She doesn’t let herself look at Rhaenyra except for when she jogs up past Alicent to open up the door for her. Alicent rolls her eyes and wants to make a comment, but nothing comes to mind. Instead, she just slides into the car and watches Rhaenyra follow after her.

The car ride is silent as the car jolts into motion. Alicent watches Rhaenyra watch the window, unable to take her eyes off of her. Wouldn’t matter if I was. Alicent is deeply aware of the fact that Rhaenyra did not say no. What would Alicent feel if she had? What would she feel if she had said yes? It was all too much for this early in the morning. Her heart hasn’t stopped racing since she woke up in Rhaenyra’s arms. They have to stop talking about the past, Alicent knows this. They have to stop talking about the past if they want to move forward. Yet, Alicent can’t stop thinking about it.

(Rhaenyra’s head rests on her chest, lazily pressing kisses to her collarbone here and there, pressing a kiss to a mark she left low on her neck. Alicent should get up, put a stop to this now that they’ve both gotten what they wanted. They were just blowing off steam, Alicent was trying something new. The last thing she should do was cuddle afterwards. She knows this, but she doesn’t move.

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent whispers, her voice shaky, throat rough and hoarse. She’d never had sex like that in her life. She’d had no clue it could feel that good.

“Yeah?” Rhaenyra lifts her head to meet Alicent’s eyes, her hair brushing softly against Alicent’s chest. She loves having her close like this, she can’t deny it.

When their eyes meet, Alicent forgets anything she was going to say about getting up or this never happening again. Instead, she just leans forward and captures Rhaenyra’s lips softly in her own. They’ll talk about it later.)

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent calls out softly, eyes wide and sad. Rhaenyra turns to face her with a curious look on her face. “I know we keep saying we’re going to move past this and yet I keep asking about it. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve for me to continue to drag everything back up, especially if there were… feelings involved.”

Rhaenyra just nods, considering her words softly as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I just have a hard time believe you didn’t feel anything about it. Maybe it’s stupid of me, but for a moment, back then, I thought maybe that things had changed and you felt the same way and then… that wasn’t true. And I think, for some stupid reason, that I’m still holding out hope, but that’s not fair to you. It’s why I left you alone for so long, even though… even though I missed you, missed us.”

Holding out hope. Hope that Alicent would love her, too. What Rhaenyra doesn’t know is that Alicent already did—does, she doesn’t know anymore. No one has ever been more special to her than Rhaenyra was and remains to be. She just wishes she knew what that meant for her.

“I’m sorry I ran from you,” Alicent admits. “I was selfish, I didn’t even consider your feelings, whatever they may have been. I just… accepted a proposal and ran away. I don’t even know why. If I were straight, it shouldn’t have been an issue to just stay put and move on like nothing happened.”

“If?” Rhaenrya asks, brow furrowed. “What do you mean if?”

Alicent shakes her head, fiddling with her thumbs in her lap. “I don’t know what I meant. I just mean that I’m sorry for never asking how you felt about it.”

“I forgive you,” Rhaenyra sighs softly, reaching out and grabbing one of Alicent’s hands, squeezing it affectionately. “It was a messy situation, there was a lot going on in other places of our lives, we were in our twenties. Of course, it wasn’t going to be something we handled particularly well.”

“God, I forgot how young we were,” Alicent laughs, biting her lip as she revels in the feeling of Rhaenyra’s hand in hers. “It all makes so much sense now.”

A comfortable silence falls between the two of them and Alicent lets out a soft sigh. Her own words. If I were straight. As if that was even a part of the conversation, as if that was something that had changed since the last time they talked about that. Right now, Alicent doesn’t know what to think. All she knows is it’s getting harder and harder to deny the implications of her attraction to Rhaenyra. Because that’s what it is. An attraction, plain and simple. There’s no other explanation she can offer herself anymore.

The car pulls up outside of the set and Alicent can’t let herself look at Rhaenyra as she gets out, allowing herself to be whisked away to hair and makeup. She’s filming scenes with more than just Rhaenyra today, something she’s grateful for. It goes by in a blur because all she can think about is Rhaenyra—even as people buzz around her, fluffing her curls and throwing her into a white button up tucked into old Levi’s—ones that must be actual sourced vintage according to how they fit her. Her first scene is with Rhaenyra, but after that, she has a couple with Ella and some other co-stars and some group scenes. Meaning she just has to get through one scene. Ironically, it’s a fight scene about things that happened in the past. It’s not lost on Alicent how uncanny that is. Not that she and Rhaenyra are particularly fighting—they’re just… talking.

On the stage with Luca, she stands on her mark as they go over what to expect from the scene. Out of the corner of her eye, Rhaenyra arrives, but Alicent can hardly look at her. All she feels right now is shame—shame she can’t let go of the past, shame for how things worked out between the two of them.

She nods to Rhaenyra and they take their marks, ever the picture of professionality despite the storm brewing within Alicent currently. She stands over by the set door where her green tape marks her position, waiting for the call.

“And—action!”

Alicent slams the door and walks up to her other mark, crossing her arms as she looks up at Rhaenyra, “Girl from last year? This isn’t the first time you’ve done this?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Rhaenyra responds, running a hand through her delightfully mussed-up hair. Alicent tries to quell the thought—she’s not supposed to be attracted to Rhaenyra right now, she’s supposed to be angry at Jo. “You know I’ve been with women before. Hell, I was engaged before, almost.”

“It’s not the fact that you’ve been with them that’s my problem,” Alicent sighs, trying to channel the frustration she’s supposed to be feeling. Not just frustration—but fear. Fear of being led on, made to feel like this affair is something bigger than it is. Fear that she’s trusted the largest part of her self-discovery with someone who only sees her as an experience. Alicent considers this, considers how she feels about Rhaenyra. The situations couldn’t be more different, a thought that keeps her grounded in the scene. The problem isn’t that Rhaenyra doesn’t care about her, the problem is that she does. “My problem is that, this—us, whatever we are isn’t just some summer affair to me, okay? This is my life and everything is so… I’ve screwed everything up and I don’t want to have thrown my life to the fire just… just to be next year’s girl from last year. Whatever that means.”

“Carina,” Rhaenyra reaches out, as Jo, to grab Alicent’s elbow where her arms are crossed, rubbing the spot of skin affectionately and using it to tug Alicent closer to her. “Just because those… trysts were meaningless, doesn’t mean this one is. When I tell you I haven’t felt like this in a long time, I mean it. Trust me, I mean it.”

Alicent struggles to look at her, breathing in a deep, weary sigh as her chest heaves with fear. Tears well up in her eyes without her having to think about it. “Rhaenyra—sh*t.”

“Cut,” Luca calls with a small smile, asking, “Forget where you are, Alicent?”

Alicent laughs, shooting a nervous look over at Rhaenyra. They don’t move from their physical position, just in case Luca wants to resume instead of starting the scene completely over. “sh*t, yeah, sorry. Do you want us to start from the top?”

Luca shakes his head, “No, you had it perfect. Start over from your line.”

Alicent nods and turns to look back at Rhaenyra the way she had been before, waiting for the cameras to start rolling once more. When they do, she nods softly, “I want to, I do. I want this… more than I’ve wanted anything.”

For a moment, it doesn’t feel like Carina is the one to say the words. Looking at Rhaenyra’s wide, desperate expression, she finds herself meaning the words more than she intends to. Does she want Rhaenyra? She’s attracted to her, yes, but what does that mean for Alicent? She doesn’t even know where to begin to dissect that.

“Okay,” Rhaenyra purses her lips before saying her line, nodding her head softly, “I know you’re scared and whatever I can do to dispel that, let me do it for you, please? I… I like you, Carina, so much. So much I don’t even know what to do with it.”

This time, Alicent chuckles softly, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head, “Tell me about it. I never knew it could feel like this—never knew what desire was until I met you.”

Silence falls between the two of them and Rhaenyra’s hand comes up to Alicent’s face, thumb brushing affectionately against her cheek. She leans forward, pressing a brief, chaste kiss to Alicent’s lips before pulling back and asking, “Stay the night with me. Nothing has to happen, but just… stay. I don’t want to be apart from you.”

Alicent bites her lips and nods and the scene cuts. She breathes a sigh of relief as soon as she hears the cue, wiping her eyes and brushing stray strands of hair out of her face as wardrobe and hair swarm around her.

“Perfect, you two are just perfect. I want to see it one more time and then I think we’ll be good.”

“Exactly as it was?” Rhaenyra asks, hands in her pockets as she stands back on her initial mark, looking over at Luca.

Luca nods. “Yes, and Alicent—the tears were a nice touch. No pressure, but if you can get that again, it would be perfect.”

“Right, yeah,” Alicent nods along as she returns to her mark, opening the door once more. She looks over at Rhaenyra and fiction begins to blend with reality more and more. She thinks of Carina’s words. “I want this more than I’ve wanted anything.” It’s all Alicent can think when she looks at Rhaenyra. I want her, I want her, I want her. It’s clear now. Only Alicent has no idea what to do with the revelation.

They finish shooting the scene not long after and Alicent has a brief break since she’s still in costume for the other scenes she has to film, as is Rhaenyra, meaning they have about twenty minutes as set and costumes and everything else gets turned around. She stands behind her trailer and smokes a cigarette, not surprised when she turns to see Rhaenyra rounding the corner.

“What’s up?” Alicent asks, trying to appear casual, but she ends up just coughing over her smoke like an idiot. She groans and tosses her cigarette to the ground, stomping it beneath her shoe and crossing her arms to look over at Rhaenyra. “That scene was good, we did good.”

“Alicent, what’s going on with you? I can see it clear as day. Just spit it out.”

“Christ,” Alicent sighs, running a hand through her hair even though she knows the hair department is just going to have to fix it all over again. “I just think my whole life is falling apart and I’ve been wrong about everything as long as I can remember and that the entire last ten years of my life could have been avoided if I wasn’t so dense.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jesus, Rhaenyra,” Alicent groans, stomping over to where Rhaenyra stands. She can see the confusion on her face, but pays it no mind as Alicent reaches her hand up to the back of her neck, pressing their lips together. She wants to see if it’s different when it’s not fake, if it means as much to her as she thinks it might—as it used to. Rhaenyra freezes for a moment and Alicent is certain she’s ruined everything. Even if she has, at least she’ll know. She’ll know what it means.

After a moment, though, Rhaenyra melts into her, her hands coming up to hold Alicent’s face as she kisses her back just as deeply. One hand comes down to Alicent’s waist, pressing her closer so their kiss can delve into deeper passion even further. Part of Alicent hates how much it feels exactly like coming home.

“All right, Miss Hightower, we have places in—oh, sh*t, sh*t, I’m sorry,” one of the production assistants—Alicent thinks her name is Frankie, comes around the corner and the two of them jump apart.

“Right, thank you, I’ll be there,” Alicent nods, wiping her bottom lip as the PA practically scurries away. Alicent closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose before facing Rhaenyra. “I’m sorry, I should not have done that.”

Alicent begins to walk away and behind her, she hears, “Alicent, wait—”

She doesn’t listen, though, she just marches onto set, early for places, but she doesn’t care. Rhaenyra can’t follow her, not without revealing something is wrong. She’s not in this scene and Alicent uses it to hide, letting herself be early for hair and makeup touch ups. She greets her other co-stars with a pursed-lip grin, pretending her heart isn’t absolutely racing. Everyone’s mindless set chatter falls on deaf ears as she looks at her own reflection in a tiny mirror. She can’t help but see herself in her character—can’t help but see the part of the film where everything falls apart. She thinks of Rhaenyra’s lips on hers, how perfect it had felt to kiss her properly.

Turning her head, she catches Rhaenyra standing just off set with her arms crossed. She looks… hurt. Alicent turns away with a weary sigh, walking over when Luca motions for her to come speak to him. The day carries on. Alicent falls to pieces.

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

“Alicent, Alicent, wait,” she hears Rhaenyra running behind her as Alicent speedwalks towards her car at the end of the day. The evening is getting late with the sun barely beginning to set behind the hills, the clock crawling towards seven. Now out of costume and with her face clean of makeup away from cameras and directors and production assistants, Alicent feels much more calm than she did before, but the turning in her stomach is worsened by the woman rapidly approaching her. It’s her own fault, though, and she knows it’s unfair of her to take this out on Rhaenyra. That knowledge is what causes her to turn around before opening the car door, leaning against it instead as she lets Rhaenyra come to a stop in front of her. “God, I feel like I’ve spent half of today chasing after you.”

“I’m sorry,” Alicent mutters, running a hand through her hair as she crosses her arms and looks down to avoid the piercing gaze of the woman in front of her. “I’m sorry for tugging you along, it’s just—I don’t have a good excuse, I’m a mess. It’s not fair to you, I should probably just leave you be, I’m sorry.”

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra chuckles, reaching out until her fingertips brush against her elbow just barely. “Just get in the car, we won’t deal with this here.”

She sighs, letting Rhaenyra open the door for her as they slide into the car after one another, a mirror of this morning. It lurches into motion and Alicent feels her stomach go with it. Once they are settled, she turns to look at Rhaenyra, “I shouldn’t have kissed you. Not without asking, not knowing… what we talked about this morning. I apologize.”

“Happens,” Rhaenyra says with a shrug, meeting Alicent’s gaze with a half-hearted smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Alicent bites her lip, turning her eyes away and facing them out the window instead. “Can I ask why?”

She scoffs, shaking her head slightly, “If I say I was practicing for the film would you believe me?”

“No.”

“Right then,” Alicent lets out a heavy sigh, feeling her shoulders drop and her chest deflate. She rubs a hand down her face, hoping it’ll rub out the weariness but it provides her no such reprieve. “I don’t know. I just… wanted to. Our conversation this morning had me thinking about some things I have spent the better part of ten years trying not to think about and I just got overwhelmed with it all and needed to do something about it. Needing to be sure.”

“Sure of what?” Rhaenyra asks, reaching out to where Alicent’s hand rests against the plush leather of the carseats. As soon as Alicent’s hand is in hers, Alicent whips her head around to look at where their fingers interlace. Rhaenyra’s hand is warm, her thumb brushing lightly against the back of Alicent’s hand. The comfort she feels is immediate, washing over her like a soft wave on a hot summer morning.

Alicent carefully lifts her gaze to meet Rhaenyra’s, feeling her hands shake where she holds them. “Sure that it meant something. That what I feel when I kiss you for a scene isn’t just… the rush of filming or me getting overly in-character or—or that I like you. Because I think I do, Rhaenyra, but truthfully, I’m not really sure how to even begin to go about that. With you far away, it was easy to shove everything down, to pretend we were just some heat of the moment affair to break the tension and blow off steam, but with you here… just, so here, it’s been impossible to think about anything else. But it’s not fair for me to say this because, well, I think I’m too late. And it’s alright if I am, I understand, I just needed to know. Apologies for… using you. A bit.”

She turns back to the window, pulling her hand away from Rhaenyra’s and staring out the window, hoping Rhaenyra remains silent. Her hand is cold without the touch, but Rhaenyra being kind right now will only make things worse. Her heart is an aching swell of emotion, feeling sick to her stomach in a way that is far too intense to blame on the bumpy countryside Tuscan roads. Looking at Rhaenyra feels impossible, so she stares at the passing blurs of greenery, feeling her eyes well.

Rhaenyra clears her throat, but says nothing else. Alicent can hear her shift around in her seat, but other than that, the silence between them perseveres. If this is the mess they’re in after only two days of filming, Alicent is beginning to dread the next few months of production. She can be professional, of course, but the wear it is going to have on her emotionally will almost certainly be damaging. She isn’t sure what to do with herself now that she’s said it out loud. She likes Rhaenyra, that much she now knows—she can no longer blame it on the rush of remembering the past or the exhilaration of filming a heated scene. Now, she has kissed her honestly for the first time in a decade and every emotion from back then immediately came rushing back like the onslaught of a flood. Now that the dam has broken, though, Alicent has nowhere for the water to go. She must simply drown in it.

Twenty minutes pass and the car comes to a stop in front of their building and they exit the car stuck in the same muggy silence they resided in for the remainder of the drive. Alicent doesn’t look at Rhaenyra twice before entering the building, practically running to her own unit. Not two seconds before she closes her door does she hear Rhaenyra’s door slam. She leans with her back against her own door for a moment, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as she slides down until she rests on the floor with her knees tucked up against her chest.

A single tear streams down her cheek and Alicent wipes it away harshly, watching the warm, orange light stream in through her curtains. She sits there on the floor for a long moment, one hand in her hair as her elbow rests against her knees, contemplating. Of course, their friendship could only last so long until Alicent once again threw it to the flames. Just like she did before. The worst part is all she wants to do is talk to Rhaenyra.

She isn’t sure how long she sits there, but the sun is nearly gone by the time she forces herself into a standing position. Alicent opens up her window all the way, climbing up onto the fire escape and letting her legs hang off of it as she lights a cigarette. The smoke does little to calm her, but it’s just habit at this point so she keeps going anyway. The stone of the building is cool against her back, grounding her as the summer heat makes the hairs on the nape of her neck stick to her skin and a thin sheen of sweat coats her.

The sun is gone by the time there’s a knock on her door, but Alicent doesn’t move to answer it or say anything in response. She just takes a long drag and waits for it to go away. The last thing she wants to hear right now is the rejection she is certain is coming. Rhaenyra said it this morning that she doesn’t feel that way about Alicent anymore, at least, she alluded to it. All Alicent can do now is put of the inevitable let down. She doesn’t even know what her end goal would be. A relationship with Rhaenyra? The last serious relationship Alicent had involved her cheating on him, marrying him anyway, and then divorcing him out of nowhere, so her track record is not great. The last thing she wants to do now is hurt Rhaenyra anymore than she already has. Surely, the two of them together would be nothing more than a trainwreck waiting to happen.

Alicent had forgotten she left her door unlocked all the way up until Rhaenyra climbs out onto her fire escape. Alicent spares her a glance, but otherwise leaves her unacknowledged, unsure what can be said between the two of them. She’s certain anything else she has to say will lead even further towards disaster.

“If you think I’m going to be upset with you for figuring things out later than I did, then you don’t know me at all,” Rhaenyra breaks the tense silence with steady words, leaning against the metal bars with one knee pulled up and her other leg stretched out. She’s changed into nothing but leisure shorts and a tight black tank top as if she’s trying to drive Alicent crazy on purpose. “Alicent, can you at least look at me?”

Alicent turns to look at her then. She must look haggard—her hair a mess with tear-stained cheeks and red eyes, but if she does, then it doesn’t show on Rhaenyra’s face. “What is there really left to say, Rhaenyra? We just… missed each other. Ships passing in the night. It’s alright, I’ll get over it. I don’t want you to worry about it because I know you and you’ll probably find a way to guilt yourself into liking me again and that’s not… that’s not what I want. I’m not even sure what I want.”

“Talk me through it,” Rhaenyra says, her voice gentle. She stretches out so she pokes Alicent’s thigh with her foot, a small, encouraging smile on her face. “Pretend I am entirely impartial and talk me through it.”

Alicent shoots her a humored look, a heavy sigh passing through her lips before she begins to put it into words. “I think it’s something I have known for a very long time, but it was much easier to ignore when you were a continent away and I had a husband to worry about. And now I have neither of those comforts, meaning everything I have worked to push down for the last ten years is bubbling to the surface all at once and I have no clue how to even begin to deal with it.”

“What is it?” she asks, her voice so soft Alicent barely hears it.

She hums, resting her head on her knee as she tucks her legs against her chest, keeping her gaze steady on Rhaenyra. “That I am attracted to you and that almost certainly means I am attracted to women in general, which is a bigger problem than I am prepared to deal with. Then there is also the matter of the husband and now I have to wonder if the reason I left him was because I was sick of him or because I never liked him in the first place and if I never liked him… then I’m just a liar. A liar who led on a man for ten years, which isn’t fair even if he kind of sucked.”

“He really sucked,” Rhaenyra adds and the two of them can’t help but burst into a quiet fit of giggles. “Alicent, I don’t think it counts as lying if you had no clue what was going on. It’s not as if you told me you were a lesbian and married him anyway, you didn’t know. Having suspicions and repressing them is not the same as lying, it’s coping, it’s processing. This isn’t something you have to feel guilty over.”

Alicent huffs. “That’s all well and good to say, of course, but that doesn’t change the fact that I feel guilty about it anyway. I mean… surely, surely I liked him. It can’t have all been fake. I mean—I remember the first time he and I had sex it…”

Alicent tries to remember, but it all feels so far away now. They had gone out for drinks after they wrapped, the end of filming party had left her waking up with one of the worst hangovers in her twenties. She and Criston must have both been hammered by the time they woke up in bed the next morning together. After that, it just sort of… kept happening. She always just fell into it, going along with what was offered.

“I was drunk, the first time,” she admits with a weary sigh and a heady laugh after the fact. “We both were. I can’t believe I didn’t remember that. I hardly remembered it the next morning. We just went along with it, kept going with what was comfortable. But even before that at uni, you know, you knew me then. It was… boys at parties and mutual friends and… I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra reaches out for her hand once more, holding her fingers gently in the air between them. “You could have slept with a hundred men, you could even have thought you wanted to, and it won’t make you any less than what you think you might be now. I mean, obviously, you’re the only one that really knows and I might—I might just be projecting my own experiences with men onto you, but…”

“I think you might be onto something,” Alicent interrupts her. “But admitting that… admitting that is something else entirely. And I think I’ve already admitted enough today.”

“That’s okay, that’s fine,” Rhaenyra says, using her grip on Alicent to tug her closer. She opens her arms to pull Alicent into her lap, the two of them becoming a tangled mess on the tiny fire escape, but Alicent still finds a way to bury her face in Rhaenyra’s shoulder, the tears flowing freely once more. If it were anyone else, she would find a way to be embarrassed over the heaving sobs that wrench themselves from her throat, but instead she just focuses on the way Rhaenyra rubs circles into the small of her back, squeezing her tightly as her chest heaves.

Alicent doesn’t know what to think of herself now. All she can think of is all the boys and how her friends would discuss crushes and boyfriends and how exhilarating it was for them and she kept waiting for the one—the one that would finally make her understand what it meant to have butterflies in her stomach or to be swept off her feet, completely head over heels. But thinking back to it now, Criston never swept her off her feet. It was just a quiet whisper of acceptance—an understanding of this is how things must go. The only time she had ever truly felt the exhilaration of a crush was the moment she made the decision to sleep with Rhaenyra. Those implications are not lost on her, not one bit, though as of right now, she has absolutely no clue what to do with them. So, she lets Rhaenyra hold her. And she cries. Cries for every doubt from the last ten years, every night spent lying awake next to her sleeping husband and wondering what was it all for, wondering if she made the wrong decision. Years of her life that she’ll never get back, years that she will never get free.

She understands now—the lingering weight of a betrayal of the self.

After a while, she settles down, her heavy sobs fading into quiet cries before they cease entirely, but she does not leave from where her face is buried in Rhaenyra’s chest. She lets herself be held and comforted, relishing in Rhaenyra’s warmth and generosity. She truthfully has no right to put Rhaenyra through this, even if she is the catalyst for all of this, she never asked to be.

Rhaenyra tugs on her softly and Alicent pulls her head back, letting Rhaenyra caress her face and brush off the last remains of her tears. Her tank top is undoubtedly soaked, but if it bothers her, she doesn’t say anything or show it on her face. Her expression is complicated, brow laced with concern but features taut with something else, some tension Alicent does not know how to name. Her thumb continues to caress Alicent’s cheek as the two of them remain close, mere centimeters between them, breaths mingling in the middle of their primed faces.

Alicent watches as Rhaenyra’s eyes dart down to her lips, contemplating, but not quite acting. Her breath hitches, afraid to move for fear she will break the spell she and Rhaenyra seem to have been put under. Emotions run rampant beneath the surface of her flesh, electricity thrumming in her veins as her heart works over time. For a moment, Alicent is deeply aware of how alive she is. How strange it is to be aware of such a thing—how strange to be anything at all.

A steady tear falls down her cheek, only Rhaenyra does not wipe this one away. Instead, her face moves forward the slightest bit, hesitating, not quite making contact. Closer now, Alicent can almost feel the brush of lips against hers, still clinging to the ghost of earlier in the day. Silence still deafening between them, Alicent nods softly—almost imperceptible had Rhaenyra not been as close as she is. But with the small, minuscule movement, Rhaenyra takes the permission for what it is and leans in fully to connect their lips.

She’s so soft, when she first meets Alicent in the middle, a plush, gentle kiss, sensitive to their heightened emotions and the rawness of the moment. Alicent kisses her back gently, scared to move, scared to accidentally bring an end to the serene moment shared between the two of them. It’s different from their kisses on set—different from the rushed intensity of the one behind her trailer, different from any way that she’s had Rhaenyra before.

Alicent allows herself to press forward, intensity lacing her movements as she brings a hand to Rhaenyra’s face, feeling the softness of her skin lined by the sharpness of her jaw. The kiss deepens, but does not speed up as they take their time, actions languid and saccharine, sickly sweet to the point where it is almost unbearable. Tears continue to stream down her cheeks as Rhaenyra brushes strands of her hair out of the way, tugging Alicent ever closer.

When they finally pull away, Alicent does not go far, instead resting her forehead against Rhaenyra’s with a deep, shuddering breath. She keeps her eyes closed as she says, “Do not pity me, Rhaenyra.”

Rhaenyra uses her hand to lift Alicent’s head, her eyes fluttering open, wide and tear-filled to meet Rhaenyra’s own watery gaze. “Who said anything about pity? Have you never considered that I have thought about you each and every moment for the last ten years? That even when we were friends I—I held out girlish hopes for something more? I think I came alive for the first time when you touched me, Alicent, and I have been chasing that feeling ever since.”

Alicent chuckles, but it’s wet and laced with sadness. “What about that one girl—what was her name? Silena? The model.”

“It wasn’t the same,” Rhaenyra sighs, fixing strands of Alicent’s hair with a gentle touch. “It was nice, but my heart wasn’t in it very much, not by the end at least. Which is probably why she left me. Not very attentive girlfriend of me.”

“What do we do now?” Alicent sighs, sitting back but adjusting in a way where her legs come to rest around Rhaenyra’s thighs. Her hands shift down to hold her waist, thumb dipping into the divots of her hip. Alicent brings a hand up to fuss with Rhaenyra’s hair, brushing it back into place with timid fingers.

“I don’t know,” Rhaenyra answers. Alicent’s heart drops, even if she knew it was coming. She knows there will be no easy answers to this, they lost the opportunity for easy answers the second Alicent got married. Even now, with him long gone, the decision haunts her.

On the counter in the kitchen, Alicent’s phone ringing draws her attention. She groans, tugging herself away from Rhaenyra and climbing back through the window to go and get it. Without checking the caller ID, she presses it to her ear, figuring she already knows who it is.

“Alicent,” Marcie’s voice comes through the ringer, sounding urgent. The tone of her voice immediately alerts Alicent to something being wrong, her back straightening as she places a hand on her hip, anxious to see what Marcie has to say. As if sensing the urgency, she watches Rhaenyra crawl back through the window with a concerned look on her face. “Please tell me you haven’t checked Twitter today.”

She furrows her brow. “No, why? What’s going on?”

“Christ, okay, I’m sending you something,” Marcie says and Alicent feels her phone buzz.

She pulls it away from her ear to look at what Marcie could have sent, clicking on the tweet and feeling her stomach drop to her feet.

‘@PopCrave: Actresses Alicent Hightower and Rhaenyra Targaryen spotted kissing behind the scenes by paparazzi on the set of new film ‘Unto Devotion.’

—@alcinaswoman: anyone else feel like posting this is a huge violation of privacy or just me

—berzattto: oh! So we’re just straight up outing people now

—alicentscult: popcrave admin i fear it’s not too late for you to delete this’

Alicent purses her lips, taking a deep breath, acutely aware of Rhaenyra’s eyes on her, but honestly the entire room began to spin as soon as she saw the photo. It’s blurry, as if it was zoomed in from far away, but it is unmistakably her and Rhaenyra kissing behind her trailer. Not on set, not on the sound stage, the two of them kissing for real. She has no idea how she is going to spin this.

“Alicent? Alicent, are you still there?” Marcie’s voice comes through the ringer and hesitantly, Alicent presses the phone to her ear once more. “I’ll run whatever story you want. I don’t know what’s going on with this or you two, but just say the word and I’ll run it. I’ve already talked to the production about increased surveillance and security so something like this doesn’t happen again. Truthfully, I don’t know how this happened in the first place since we’ve kept filming locations almost entirely under wraps—”

“Deflect,” Alicent snaps into consciousness, shoulders taut as she turns away from Rhaenyra. “Don’t comment about the photo. Don’t even acknowledge the subject of the photo. We’ll run a statement on violation of privacy, taking things out of context—I don’t care, just… just deny it. Deny something. I’m—”

She turns back around, catching Rhaenyra’s eyes. They’re wide, flush with hurt and Alicent’s heart sinks even further. She keeps her gaze on Rhaenyra, still speaking to Marcie as she says. “I’m not ready.”

“Okay,” Marcie responds, her voice gentle. “Okay, I’ll take care of it.”

Alicent hangs up the phone and leaves it gently on the counter, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Rhaenyra’s eyes haven’t left her, but neither of them say anything. The silence is uncomfortable, overwhelming on top of all the fear and dread coursing through Alicent’s veins. She doesn’t know what to do. Not with Rhaenyra looking at her like this, not with everything hanging between them.

“I think you should go,” she finally breathes out, though her voice is shaking like she doesn’t even believe the words she’s saying. Truthfully, the only thing she wants is Rhaenyra’s arms around her once more, but she can’t accept such a comfort considering she just told her publicist to entirely ignore their involvement with each other. “I think you need to leave, Rhaenyra.”

“Tell me why,” Rhaenyra finally speaks, taking a step towards Alicent, but she holds out a hand to stop her.

“You know why,” she chokes out, wiping her eyes as they once more begin to fill with tears. “Did you not hear me? I’m not—this is too much, this is too much and I can’t, I didn’t want this getting out, not yet, and now you’ve been dragged into it and I don’t want you dragged into it any further. You’ve done enough, you’ve done enough for me. And I haven’t done a thing to deserve it. It’s rotten, I’m rotten.”

“I don’t care,” Rhaenyra breathes out, neither of them moving. “I don’t care if you’re rotten and miserable and not ready for any of this but I think you are forgetting something very important Alicent and that is that before any of this, any of us, we were friends. And I am still your friend, first. Your privacy was violated at the worst possible time, I understand… I understand why you want to hide.”

Alicent chokes on a sob, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth as if that will somehow hide her distress. “I don’t want to drag you down with me. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have. Let’s just… let’s just call it here. I’m not going to do this, not like this. I want to do it right, when I’m ready, when I can… kiss you without having a bloody panic attack.”

Rhaenyra just looks at her and nods because of course she does. Of course, she just sits here and takes it and somehow that makes Alicent feel worse about everything. It’s not like she wants to fight with Rhaenyra, but she just wants to feel less like she’s stepping all over her and yet she doesn’t know how to stop.

When Rhaenyra doesn’t react, Alicent hardly knows what to say. “Aren’t you cross? I’ve… I’ve used you and now I’ve led you on, but you’re just… here. Somehow it makes me feel worse than I already do.”

“I’m not going to force you into anything you won’t be ready for Alicent because then we’re just going to come out hating each other and all will be ruined,” Rhaenyra finally says, her voice sounding choked up. “It does not matter how I feel when the consequences of those feelings far outweigh any benefits there might be. If you think we should call it here and not move forward, then I’m inclined to agree, for both of our sakes. I know how to protect myself, I don’t need you to do it for me.”

Alicent just takes it and nods, wiping stray tears from her face, sniffling and nodding. She crosses her arms, pursing her lips as she struggles to think of what could be said. “Alright then. Then, I guess, this is it. Again. It won’t happen again.”

“It won’t,” Rhaenyra assents. Somehow, it doesn’t make Alicent feel any better. She just feels absolutely sh*t all around. “Tell Marcie to get in touch with my publicist if needed, she’ll corroborate whatever story you choose to go with. I’ll—I’ll see you on set tomorrow, Alicent.”

She watches Rhaenyra go, heading for the door. Before she leaves, though, she pauses, taking a tentative step towards Alicent. She feels so small with her this close, Rhaenyra taller than her and standing strong while Alicent feels as if she’s about to melt into a puddle on the floor. Cautiously, Rhaenyra brings a hand to the back of Alicent’s head, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and lingering there for a moment. When Rhaenyra pulls back, her eyes are welled with tears.

Rhaenyra leaves without another word, the door slamming shut behind her. Another moment passes and Alicent hears the door across the hall close, lock clicking into place. The second she hears it, she finally lets out a choked wail of a sob, bringing a hand to her mouth to cover the noise. It’s all too much, far too much at once. To be on the precipice of something new and exciting with Rhaenyra just to shatter it all over again. Time is a circle, Alicent is beginning to realize—a slow, torturous circle. And it’s all her fault.

She sets her alarm for the next morning and heads into her bathroom, shedding her clothes and turning the shower on as hot as she possibly can. She sits on the tile floor and lets it wash over her, a molten baptism as if that will somehow cleanse her of her aching heart and torn to shreds throat. As if it will erase the conversations had and turn back time. Before any of this, any of us, we were friends. Alicent has never craved to go back to before any more than she does right now.

She sits in the shower until her skin burns.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

She and Rhaenyra don’t talk for weeks. They film—for the most part without a hitch. Alicent’s team worked with Rhaenyra’s to bury the photo—it was excused as them running lines and Luca having them practice a scene, something he’s done in the past. He had them running a heated scene and walked away… just in time for a photo to be taken. It was explained away, that’s all Alicent really cares about. The only people who still cared about her sexuality were a handful of lesbians on Twitter and that was something she could certainly handle. Their time in Italy is coming to a close with about two weeks of scenes to shoot in Greece and then it’s done. Then it’s all done and they get the press tour and premiere over with and it’ll all be over. Alicent should have known better than to get involved with Rhaenyra again, all it would ever do was stir up trouble.

“And that is a wrap on Florence!” Luca’s voice rings clear as the cue to cut echoes across the sound stage and Alicent comes back to reality. The reality of film is the last scene filmed is almost rarely an important one. Right now, Alicent sits on a bench in a villa’s garden, warm cement burning her thighs as she giggles alongside her young co-stars. Having two little girls on set had worked to breathe a bit of life into her—especially since they seem to think Alicent is very cool.

(“Your hair is just like Ariel’s,” Lila told her on the first day, reaching out and twirling a strand of Alicent’s red curls. “So pretty.”

“Well, hers is a bit brighter than mine, but thank you,” Alicent giggles, letting the little girl play with her hair gently, a wide smile on her face.)

She looks up and catches Rhaenyra’s eye, who was standing just off-screen having just ran off with the girls, a warm and gentle smile on her face. For a moment, Alicent finds herself smiling too, the rush of having wrapped the majority of the production making her soft; relaxed.

“All right, we will pick back up in Athens in a week,” the head of production begins to announce, but it all fades to white noise as she continues to look at Rhaenyra, running a hand through her hair as everything around them seems to slow down.

Alicent had hardly seen her despite living across from her for the last two months and honestly, Alicent doesn’t blame her. She can’t get mad at Rhaenyra for protecting herself, not when Alicent has been dragging her into a sh*tstorm of… she doesn’t even know what. All she knows is that she’s been lying to herself for the last ten years—convincing herself her affair with Rhaenyra meant nothing and that she wanted to marry Criston. Coming to terms with that is not something that’s been easy.

“Alicent, darling,” Ella’s rough accented voice comes into focus as she wraps her arms around Alicent. “Ugh, Athens is going to be so exciting, I can hardly wait. We have to celebrate the wrap tonight at the bars, I’ve been dying for a night out but these call times have been killing me.”

A drink sounds absolutely wonderful. Truthfully, Alicent hasn’t left her house much while she’s been here—partially because she’s afraid of running into Rhaenyra and partially because she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Part of her was tempted to go to a bar and try to find a woman. To find out if it was real or if maybe Rhaenyra was some bizarre exception to the rule, but she never had the nerve. Besides, it wouldn’t confirm anything Alicent didn’t already know. She just isn’t ready to admit that to herself. The more she’s thought about it, though, the better she feels.

Rhaenyra’s words had helped her the most in her late night journaling sessions, out on the fire escape, “You could have slept with a hundred men, you could even have thought you wanted to, and it won’t make you any less than what you think you might be now.”

“Drinks sound wonderful,” Alicent finally remembers to answer, the cast and crew becoming a mess of hugs and celebrations at a job well (mostly) done. “Let me know when and where and I’m there.”

Ella smiles and claps her hands before going off to talk to other cast members, most likely inviting them as well. Which means there is a non-zero chance Rhaenyra will be out with her tonight. But it’s fine. Alicent can be mature. She can be normal about this. They’re co-stars, friends, more or less. Besides, they had to get awkwardly intimate for several scenes of the film and while filming a sex scene is probably the least sexiest thing Alicent ever does for work, they were able to share a few laughs. Things weren’t shattered between them and that was enough for Alicent to hold onto for now. She can handle drinks.

Alicent can handle drinks. As it turns out, though, she cannot handle watching Rhaenyra dance with someone else. Most of the adult cast had been invited to the night out, something Alicent couldn’t fault Ella for given that they all worked hard and they all deserved a night of reprieve since it’s the first time in months they’ve been able to sleep in for once and of course, that means sleeping in with a hangover. For some reason, Alicent hadn’t considered the fact that a night out would involve Rhaenyra—looking nothing short of divine in a tightly cropped black t-shirt that highlights the bulge of her muscles, the thin lines of her tattoos, and drives Alicent absolutely mad—being flirted with. She has no right to be jealous, she knows this. She’s the one who let Rhaenyra walk out the door. Unfortunately, though, that has not stopped her from it in the slightest.

She herself had considered Rhaenyra when picking her outfit tonight, going out in a dress both short enough and with a V low enough to have anyone she wants turning heads. And yet Rhaenyra has hardly glanced in her direction. She sits at the bar and sips a cosmopolitan as frustratedly as she can. Her hair trails down her back in smooth curls, soft against her skin as she leans with her elbows on the bar and a hand holding her forehead. She’s being an idiot.

She turns to the dance floor—it’s a different club than the one she and Rhaenyra went out to that first night, but the energy is the same. Music so loud she can hardly hear herself think—though this time it’s clearly catered a bit more to tourists since Alicent is almost certain it’s a Charli XCX song that’s playing—and the dance floor a sweaty mess. Sweat slicks Rhaenyra’s blonde locks as she grabs the waist of a girl, some American, Alicent is certain. She scoffs at the sight.

“All alone?” an accented voice catches her attention and Alicent turns to find an Italian woman gorgeous enough to be a supermodel on the barstool next to her. Alicent blinks, looking around for a moment as if not sure who she’s talking to. “Pardon my interruption, I just don’t think a woman as beautiful as you should be alone at the bar.”

“Oh, I’m not—” the rejection begins to fall off her tongue before she stops herself. She’s not what? Beautiful? Into women? Alicent can’t find the heart to finish the sentence. She takes another long sip of her drink before placing it gently on the bar. “Care for a dance, then?”

The woman nods and offers her hand which Alicent takes willingly. The music pulses in her veins as they push through the thrum of people to find an open spot on the dance floor. She puts her hand on Alicent’s waist and her heart flutters, letting herself move to the music without worrying about anyone else in the room.

“Beniamina,” she says in Alicent’s ear, her voice a flirtatious velvet against her skin that sends a chill down her spine.

“Alicent,” she breathes out, throwing her arms around her neck and tugging her closer, their hips just a hair's breadth away from touching. Alicent wants to pull her closer, wants to disappear with her into the thrum of the crowd where no one can see them. It’s exhilarating. And yet there is still something nagging at the back of her mind—something that is still across the dance floor dancing with another blonde. Which is ridiculous. Rhaenyra has never once been into blondes in the entire eighteen years they’ve known each other. It doesn’t matter. They’re friends. Alicent made sure of that. Friends can dance with other people.

She loses herself in the music, getting closer and closer to Beniamina until their faces are centimeters apart. Sweat drips down her neck and she can feel her hair sticking to her back, strobe lights hurting her eyes, but she doesn’t care. Alicent tilts her head forward, sending as much of a signal as she can. Beniamina seems to pick it up, pushing forward until her lips meet Alicent’s in the heat of the moment. Alicent breathes into it, kissing her deeply, enjoying the privacy granted by the thrush of a pulsing crowd. Everything else fades as she confirms more and more what she already knew. Rhaenyra isn’t a fluke. Criston was the fluke. It’s horrifying and exhilarating all at once.

They break apart and she hears Beniamina’s rough voice in her ear once more, asking, “You want to go somewhere else?”

Alicent is about to nod, ready to throw caution to the wind, until she looks over Beniamina’s shoulder and finds Rhaenyra staring straight at her. She’s abandoned the blonde, now, and stands, staring through the crowd, unmistakably at Alicent. She turns to Beniamina, separating herself from her and shaking her head. “Not tonight, I’m sorry, I have to go.”

After Beniamina disappears back into the crowd, Alicent huffs, turning and stomping off in the direction of Rhaenyra. She doesn’t look at her as she walks by, just grabs her by the wrist and tugs her off of the dance floor and into the bathroom. There’s two single person bathrooms here, one of which they now occupy as Alicent pushes Rhaenyra inside and locks the door behind them.

“You seemed comfortable.”

“So did you,” Alicent retorts with crossed arms, biting her lip as she looks Rhaenyra upside down. It’s incredibly hard to be angry, let alone concentrate, with Rhaenyra dressed like this. Her t-shirt is cropped meaning Alicent is seeing far too much of her stomach right now for her to have any sort of reasonable thoughts. “I don’t see what the problem is, but lo and behold, you’re staring at me like a kicked puppy. What happened to your girl?”

“She wasn’t my girl, we were just dancing,” Rhaenyra scoffs.

“So were me and Beniamina.”

“Beniamina,” Rhaenyra repeats with pursed lips. “Right so, you’re petrified to be seen with me, you push me away when I try to help, you hardly speak to me for two months—which, honestly impressive considering we’re filming a movie together, but then you are perfectly content to make out with someone you just met on a dance floor.”

Alicent scoffs, stepping up to Rhaenyra. In her heels, they’re almost the same height. Being eye-level makes it a little bit easier, makes her feel more confident than if she were looking up at her. “I didn’t talk to you because you didn’t talk to me. I figured space would be good for the both of us considering things had been a little—you know. I was outed before I even knew what I was, Rhaenyra, I needed a breather.”

“And that’s perfectly fine, I’ve been there, I understand,” Rhaenrya sighs, running a hand through her sweat-soaked hair. Her skin glistens in the warm light of the bathroom. “I told you as much when we last had that conversation, but—but this—”

“This what? I wasn’t allowed to come to terms with things without you?”

“You know that’s not it.”

Alicent sighs. “Then what is it?”

Rhaenyra looks at her for a long moment, lips pursed and arms crossed. It’s probably the most pissed off Alicent has ever seen her—and that’s saying something. She feels on fire, electricity thumping her in her veins as she hears the distant pounding of the music outside the door.

She takes a step back, eyeing Rhaenyra up with an arrogant grin, shifting slightly. “You were jealous.”

Alicent expects Rhaenyra to reject it, to make up some excuse, but she doesn’t. Instead, she just looks Alicent up and down and says, “First, you wear that dress specifically made to torture me and then I have to watch you wear it to dance with someone else. Of course, I am f*cking jealous, Alicent.”

She isn’t sure who surges forward first, but either way they meet in the middle in a flash of tongues and teeth and passion. Alicent finds herself pressed against the wall as Rhaenyra seems to make it a personal mission to ruin Alicent’s lipstick more than Beniamina already did. It’s different from anything they’ve shared before. Even when they slept together the first time, it was laced with uncertainty and fear and misunderstood desire. Now, though, Alicent feels rejuvenated with Rhaenyra’s lips against hers, holding her face and kissing her fiercely, their tongues exploring one another’s mouths in depth.

Rhaenyra’s hand comes to her thigh, inching just below where the fabric of her skirt rides up as she brings her lips to Alicent’s neck. Alicent grips the back of Rhaenyra’s head, a strangled gasp leaving her throat as Rhaenyra’s teeth nip at her skin. Briefly, she wonders if they should be doing this considering their already strained relationship, but Alicent is sick and tired of being cautious. There can be a dozen girls on the dance floor asking after her, but the only one Alicent would really be looking at is Rhaenyra. It’s always been her, she just isn’t sure how to deal with it quite yet. This seems to be a good enough way of satiating her persistent desire, though. She’s decided the two fighting minds within her can see eye-to-eye later. Right now, she knows who’s winning.

She continues to thread her hands through Rhaenyra’s hair as she kisses down her chest, one hand still inching up her thigh, pulling her dress with it. Rhaenyra pulls back to look Alicent in the eyes, both of them panting heavily. Alicent’s heart is racing so quickly she’s almost certain it’s going to jump out of her chest entirely.

Alicent brings a hand up to Rhaenyra’s face, her eyes asking so much while she says nothing at all. The slowed down moment should bring her to a reasonable conclusion as to how to go about this. Sleeping with her best friend—a friendship that is rocky enough as is—is a mistake she’s made once more. There’s no knowing whether or not it’s going to wreck things all over again. Then again, though, they’ve already crossed the line. Alicent has a feeling they crossed it months ago.

Nothing is said between them except for a soft nod from Alicent. Rhaenyra presses forward to meet her lips once more, the kiss surging with passion as her hand slips upwards beneath the fabric of Alicent’s dress, running across the crease in her thigh, so close to where an aching, pooling wetness resides between her thighs.

Alicent gasps when Rhaenyra’s hand first makes contact with her dripping c*nt, pushing her lacy underwear aside to take a gentle, exploratory dip into her folds, but it’s enough to drive Alicent wild. It’s been so long since someone touched her like this, touched her like they wanted to instead of just trying to get themselves off. She forgot how exhilarating it can be, how addicting. She lets her head rest against the wall, hands tangled in Rhaenyra’s hair as the woman kisses down her neck, biting and sucking marks into the flesh there.

Rhaenyra’s fingers find her cl*t, pressing against the bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pressure to make Alicent’s knees buckle. Rhaenyra holds her up with a strong hand on her thigh and Alicent is sure to run her hand along the muscles on her biceps the very way she’s been dreaming about since that first goddamn dinner in Los Angeles. Her fingers circle around, dipping down lower towards her entrance, where Alicent needs her desperately.

She bites back a moan when two of Rhaenyra’s fingers press into her, slapping her own hand over her mouth as she struggles to remind herself they are technically in a public place and getting kicked out of a club for having sex in the bathroom is not the sort of publicity Marcie needs from her right now. It was tough enough to bury the photo of her and Rhaenyra, she can’t imagine the scandal that would come from this.

Rhaenyra pulls her hand away and intertwines their fingers together against the wall, Alicent’s leg still strong around her waist as Rhaenyra swallows down her moans with a kiss. She gasps into her lips as Rhaenyra f*cks into her, picking up until she reaches a pace that has Alicent’s legs shaking. As if sensing her oncoming weakness, Rhaenyra lets go of her hand to hold her up once more, pressing her further against the wall in a way that gives her an even deeper angle into Alicent’s c*nt. She chokes on a moan, tugging at Rhaenyra’s scalp desperately as she swears she sees stars beneath her closed eyelids. She can feel the knot in her stomach tightening, not sure how much longer she can hold back.

Rhaenyra adds a third finger and Alicent almost slides down the wall. When she stumbles, Rhaenyra is quick to catch her, smiling into the kiss as she tears Alicent apart. Her pace is brutal, but Alicent wouldn’t accept anything less, desperate for Rhaenyra in any way she can have her. Her hand grips the back of Rhaenyra’s neck, tugging at her hair as she feels her org*sm encroaching. Barely a moment passes before she breaks, gripping onto Rhaenyra for stability as her pace doesn’t slow, f*cking Alicent through it.

Their lips meet in a series of flushed, desperate kisses, their panting breaths mingling as Rhaenyra slows down, giving her a gentle come down as she catches her breath. They pull apart when Rhaenyra pulls her hand out of Alicent completely, her body almost whining at the emptiness. Watching Rhaenrya now, though, she doesn’t think she’s ever been so turned on in her life.

Alicent isn’t sure where her confidence comes from—maybe it’s the desperation Rhaenyra eyes her with, her light eyes clouded over with lust. Alicent co*cks her head to the side, bringing a hand to Rhaenyra’s exposed stomach, flat against her abs, pushing her back slightly, enough so she stumbles with surprise. “I want to touch you this time.”

Rhaenyra looks at her, chest heaving and sweat dripping down her neck, fingers still drifting with what’s leftover of Alicent’s desire—desire that still pulses in her stomach and between her thighs. Alicent takes another step forward, reaching for Rhaenrya where she now rests against the sink, grabbing her by the belt buckle, but waiting patiently.

She tilts her head, looking softly at Rhaenyra, fingers tracing the cool metal of the buckle, asking, “May I?”

Rhaenyra looks like she’s forgotten how to speak—opening her mouth and closing it again as if searching for the words before eventually she just nods. Alicent grins, trying to quell the nerves fluttering just below the surface as she undoes the belt buckle and reaches for Rhaenyra’s zipper. She presses Rhaenyra further up against the counter, dipping her hand beneath the waistband of her pants and underwear to touch the dripping folds beneath. Rhaenyra grunts, dipping her head as Alicent gets closer, one leg between her thighs as her fingers begin to circle her cl*t. She may not have done this before, but she certainly knows what feels good.

Watching Rhaenyra shift beneath her is a sight to see—her white-knuckled grip on the counter, the steady gasps and pants falling from her lips, so wet Alicent almost can’t get a grip. She presses forward, lifting Rhaenyra’s head gently as she picks up both the pace and the pressure, fingers dancing around her cl*t as she presses a soft kiss to the line of her jaw, a smear of lipstick marking its place.

She hits one spot that makes Rhaenyra cry out, reaching for Alicent’s wrist—for a moment, she thinks she’s done something wrong, but Rhaenyra just pushes her hand down further, harder, her other hand gripping Alicent’s waist and keeping her near. She continues at the same pace in the spot Rhaenyra holds her, pressing more kisses up and down her jawline and neck, just wanting to be near her, touching her in any way she can. She relishes in the feeling of Rhaenyra falling apart beneath her, an open-mouthed gasp falling from her lips as Rhaenyra’s head falls against her shoulder.

Alicent doesn’t know how it could have been anything other than this, really. How she put up with Criston for so long when she could have had this the entire time. She was always meant to be here.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget what Rhaenyra sounds like when she comes, shattering against Alicent, teeth sinking into her exposed shoulder to muffle the wrecked moan that falls from her lips. Alicent holds her, one hand on the small of her back, keeping the two of them together as she slows down her movements before eventually pulling her hand out of Rhaenyra’s pants all together. Part of her is scared for this to be over—scared to know what comes next, but she’s still chasing the high. She pulls Rhaenyra’s head back and presses their lips together, the kiss laced with desperation but also an undertone of sweetness.

When she pulls apart, she brings her still-wet fingers to her lips, licking them clean while acutely aware of the way Rhaenyra is watching her. She looks like she’s about to toss Alicent onto the counter and devour her when someone finally bangs on the door.

Reality settles in as they hear someone shouting in Italian—probably something along the lines of what’s taking so long? Alicent quickly tugs her dress down while Rhaenyra shouts that she’ll be out in a minute at the same time she’s frantically redoing her belt. The two of them pause in the middle of a panic, catching sight of the absolute mess they’ve made of each other. A nervous laugh falls from Alicent’s lips and soon enough, Rhaenyra is chuckling, too.

“We should—” Rhaenyra begins to say, but stops when Alicent comes up to her.

Alicent presses her thumb to her lips and brings her hand up to Rhaenyra’s face, wiping off the smudges of lipstick. “Yeah, we should.”

She catches the eye of their reflection. There’s almost certainly no disguising what they’ve been up to, but at this hour, with this many people, there’s a chance they can still get away with it. Alicent sighs, silently accepting her fate as she grabs Rhaenyra’s wrist, tugging the two of them out of the bathroom and out the back door into an alleyway.

“Jesus Christ,” Alicent says once she feels the cool night air on her skin, still catching her breath. “We should call a car—sh*t, my phone is in Ella’s bag, I need to go—”

“I’ll handle it,” Rhaenyra cuts her off, running a hand over her face, reaching for the door they just came through. She pauses for a moment though, her other hand still hanging onto Alicent’s. She tugs Alicent closer into a kiss, quick, hopefully quick enough to not get caught. Though, Alicent kind of isn’t sure why she’s still worried about that. Part of her wonders if it happens again if she would mind. By the time she thinks up the question, Rhaenyra is already gone.

With Rhaenyra gone for a moment, Alicent takes a moment to comprehend what just happened. She and Rhaenyra just f*cked for the first time in ten years in a goddamn club bathroom. Alicent doesn’t think she’s ever been so desperate as to do such a thing. She bites down gently on her thumb, stifling a laugh.

The noise of the door opening startles her and Rhaenyra stands there with Alicent’s phone, handing it over to her with a small smile. Everything between them feels nervous again, her earlier brashness entirely gone as she blushes beneath Rhaenyra’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, I—” Alicent starts, but she isn’t sure what she’s apologizing for. Instead, she takes a deep breath, crossing her arms as she looks at Rhaenyra. “Are you okay with what just happened? I know I haven’t been entirely fair to you as of late and if that was… a mistake for you, then I understand.”

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra sighs, “You’re thinking too hard.”

“I don’t know how to do this, Rhaenyra, I don’t even know where to start.”

Rhaenyra reaches for her, grabbing her by the waist and forcing her to look up at her due to their closeness. Alicent continues, “I’m sorry. For how I reacted to the photo. You didn’t deserve to get… shoved back in the closet as harshly as you did.”

“You were scared, Alicent.”

“That can only be my excuse so many times,” she sighs, relieved when Rhaenyra tugs her to the street where the car is waiting for them. “I owe you an apology and this—this, I don’t think counts.”

“I think it does,” Rhaenyra laughs, tugging her into the car. She brings Alicent closer to her, whispering in her ear, “I like you when you know what you want.”

“I’m being serious, Rhaenyra, I don’t want to be taking advantage of… whatever it is you feel for me,” she swats her away with a breathy laugh, watching as Rhaenyra returns to her proper seat. “Just talk to me about how you feel, please? I feel like I haven’t opened up any room for you in any of this.”

Rhaenyra settles down, sighing as her eyes dart to the driver. “Let’s talk about it at home, yeah?”

Home. Alicent isn’t sure what that is. The apartment that she’s currently trying to shove in boxes to be moved to Greece in a week? Or Los Angeles? Alicent sighs, trying to settle down in her seat, but still feeling tense. She can’t stop glancing over at Rhaenyra—at her strong hands, thinking about how it felt to be that close to her again, to have those hands inside of her once more. She breathes in a shaky breath, crossing one leg over another.

The car pulls up in front of their building after a drive that feels like ages. Rhaenyra opens the door for her and guides them up the stairs, opening the door to her own apartment. Alicent follows her in, unsure what to do with herself.

“Are you comfortable? Here,” Rhaenyra says the moment the door is closed behind her, stepping into her room and coming back with a t-shirt and shorts for her. Alicent takes them with a small smile, appreciating the gesture—especially since if she wanted to change, she could just go across the hall.

Rhaenyra busies herself in the kitchen as Alicent pulls the shirt over her head, tugging her dress down underneath and throwing it over the couch when she’s done to be dealt with later. She follows Rhaenyra into the kitchen, leaning with her back against the counter.

Opening the fridge, Rhaenyra hands her a beer, grabbing one for herself as well. Alicent grins, letting Rhaenyra open the bottle for her before taking it. “So, how I feel?”

Alicent nods. “Let me down easy.”

“Alicent…” Rhaenyra sighs, taking a sip. “Truthfully, I’m not even fully sure. The last thing I want to do is push you into anything you aren’t ready for, but unfortunately, I’m only human, and I like you. A lot. I’ve also been where you are and I know how difficult it is to process and sometimes processing that with… another person breathing down your neck can be tough. I won’t lie and say it hasn’t been hard and yes… the photo stuff did hurt, but at the same time, I get why you did it. I can’t say I would have acted differently if I were in that scenario.”

“I’m sorry—” Alicent starts, but Rhaenyra stops her, stepping closer and tugging her foreward by the hem of her shirt.

She shakes her head. “No apologizing right now. My turn. I like you, Alicent, but these are feelings I have been holding onto for a long time. I don’t say that to guilt you, I’m doing that to let you know that if this is going to be something we do, it’s going to be serious. And if you’re not ready for that, then that’s fine, but I can’t do this. Not now.”

Alicent nods, feeling her heart begin to speed up in her chest. She takes a hefty sip of her drink, running a hand through her hair as she breathes in the scent of Rhaenyra close to her. They’re close enough to kiss, but neither of them move. Rhaenyra’s head hangs, eye level with Alicent, watching her expectantly as if waiting for a rejection she knows is coming. Alicent wants to say yes, she wants to say yes more than anything. But she can’t get the words out.

She leans her forehead against Rhaenyra’s and takes a deep shuddering breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, Rhaenyra.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Rhaenyra presses forward, kissing her softly and Alicent relishes in it. She sighs afterwards, looking up at Rhaenyra with wide eyes. “I don’t want to drag you down with me. With all of this… mess. I mean, if we start dating it’s an uphill battle. It’s press statements and rumors and scandal—”

“I don’t care,” Rhaenyra says. “I told you, Alicent, I liked you before any of those things mattered. Why would they matter now? Just… think on it. All my cards are on the table, it’s on you now. Let me know in Athens.”

“Rhaenyra—” Alicent begins, not knowing what to say. She falls flat, nowhere to go from here. She watches as Rhaenyra walks over to the door and holds it open. Alicent sighs, walking over to her and bringing a hand up to hold her face. Rhaenyra’s eyes shift over to meet hers, wide and gentle. “It’s not a no.”

“Even if it was, that would be okay,” Rhaenyra whispers. “I’ve dealt with it for ten years, I can handle ten more.”

“How does a week sound instead?” Alicent teases softly, reveling in the smile she reserves in return. “And thank you. For giving me time. Even though I’ve taken plenty.”

Rhaenyra tilts her head down, pushing against Alicent’s hand. “Goodnight, Alicent.”

“Goodnight, Rhaenyra.”

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Alicent wakes up the morning of her flight to Greece with a headache. She has to be at the airport in an hour where she’ll see Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra who she isn’t sure she has an answer for yet. She wants a relationship with Rhaenyra more than anything—that much she knows, she’s known that for far longer than she was ready to acknowledge. Yet, there’s so much to consider. She knows Rhaenyra would never ask her to come out, she’s too nice for that, but with how much she loves Rhaenyra, it feels strange to hide her. If they were going to do this together, Alicent wanted to be open about it.

Still lying in bed as the Italian sun streams in through her windows, she reaches for her phone resting face up on the bedside table, dialing Marcie’s number and pressing the phone to her ear with a sigh. She closes her eyes, one hand resting against her forehead as she listens to the sound of the line ringing.

“Alicent, I love you, but it’s three in the morning,” is the first thing Marcie says when she answers the phone, her voice groggy with sleep.

Alicent feels mildly guilty for having woken her, but she’s going to see Rhaenyra at the airport and this scenario is something she wants to have prepared. They have two weeks left of filming and then it’ll be months off before the premiere and Alicent isn’t sure what’s going to happen when she doesn’t have Rhaenyra in her immediate vicinity. Distantly, she wonders where Rhaenyra will go. Alicent has an apartment in both Los Angeles and New York, but she has no clue where Rhaenyra is staying currently when not filming.

“Sorry, I forgot about time zones,” Alicent groans, running her hand down her face before letting it fall flat against the mattress with a huff. “Marcie, what’s the plan of action if I want to come out?”

“Come out?” Marcie asks, suddenly sounding wide awake. She can practically hear her sitting straight up in bed now that Alicent’s said it. “As what?”

“I think a lesbian,” she answers with a sigh, rolling over onto her side with the phone still pressed to her ear. “I think an Instagram post is kind of tacky, but I’m willing to do it.”

Marcie laughs, “Instagram public statements are tacky. What’s spurring this? Are you dating someone?”

“Kind of? I want to.” Her heart rate speeds up with a girlish glee as she considers the thought of Rhaenyra being her girlfriend. “But do I need to say anything? Or can we just conspicuously appear in public until people get the idea?”

“Well, that’s pretty much an option. You two can get photographed together—and if it’s who I’m thinking of, I already know that won’t be a problem for the two of you, and once those photos are posted, we send press packets to major magazines revealing the status of your relationship. Once that is all taken care of, we can have your social media manager tweet something from your account confirming the rumors and if you want, your sexuality. That’s one way to do it. Or, notes app announcement on your Instagram story. Or, if you want to wait several months, on the premiere carpet.”

“I don’t want to wait,” she admits breathlessly, a light giggle falling from her lips. “I just want to be with her. That’s all I care about.”

Marcie laughs. “Okay, well, then next time you’re photographed together, I’ll let the team know and we’ll get to work. Give Rhaenyra my best.”

“Thanks,” Alicent whispers so lightly she can barely feel it as she hangs up the phone, pressing it against her chest with a relieved sigh. She’s not going to hide it anymore—not that she really knew she was hiding anything in the first place except for the photo fiasco a few months ago. Her heart races in her chest, a co*cktail of excitement and nerves all rolled into one. Most people already think she’s a lesbian anyway, all she’s really doing is telling people something they already know. She thinks about being able to walk down the street with Rhaenyra—to be photographed with her without fear, without worrying that people will misinterpret things.

She smiles softly to herself, picking herself up out of bed, preparing herself for the airport. For Rhaenyra.

There’s already paparazzi waiting for her when her car pulls up. Something Alicent misses dearly from before she was famous is being able to wear sweatpants to the airport. Instead, though, she’s wearing jeans and a white tank top with sunglasses holding her hair out of the way. She smiles and waves politely as they mind their space, something she’s grateful for, carrying her bags into the airport. Most of the cast and crew will be on the same plane, meaning there’s a solid chance she meets Rhaenyra at the gate. Not talking to her for the last week has been a special kind of torture, but she understands the need for space she must have with all the pushing and pulling between them. It gave Alicent time to think about what she really wants; about what’s holding her back. When it really came down to it, she couldn’t think of a single thing.

She had her team’s support, her father couldn’t reach her, most of social media already assumes, there was nothing to stop her. And she’s sick of stopping herself, of holding herself back from something she knows will make her happy.

The monotony of the airport is a comfort to her racing heart and she runs into Ella in security, which makes her feel less alone. Traveling is something she’s used to, but there’s always something about having someone alongside that makes her feel better. She keeps checking her phone like she’s going to have a notification from Rhaenyra, except she never does. Heading towards her gate, she finds that her photos from the airport entrance have already made their way to Twitter which is only kind of horrifying.

“Excuse me, Miss Hightower,” a small voice interrupts her walk and she turns to see a teenage girl standing beside her mother. She holds out a notebook with a pen, asking, “I’m sorry to bother you, but could I please have an autograph?”

Alicent nods, reaching for the pen. “Of course, darling, who am I making it out to?”

“Annabelle,” she answers as Alicent begins to write her a small message in a clean scrawl, finishing it off with her loopy signature she decided on years ago. She passes the notebook back and the girl is glowing with glee. “Thank you, you’re just as kind as I thought you’d be.”

“I try my best,” she retorts with a gentle laugh, “I do apologize, I have a flight to catch, but it was lovely meeting you.”

She bids Annabelle her goodbyes as they take off towards her gate, Alicent’s heart racing the closer she gets to seeing Rhaenyra once again. She has no idea what she would even say or how to go about it. All she knows is that she wants Rhaenyra more than anything.

Rhaenyra stands by the gate, peering down at her phone. She’s wearing a navy blue button-up work shirt over a white tank top with jeans, her signature gold necklaces hanging from her neck and all Alicent can think is that she wants to just run up and kiss her without a second thought. She’s never been more sure of anything in her life.

Finally, Rhaenyra looks up and catches her eye and Alicent smiles, a sigh of relief causing the tension in her shoulders to drop. The Florence airport is overwhelmingly busy and the sun streaming in through the wide, uncovered windows reminds her of the brutal summer outside and yet all she can think about is Rhaenyra. She wipes her sweaty palms on her jeans as she approaches Rhaenyra cautiously, unsure how to even begin to go about this.

“Good to see you,” Rhaenyra greets her with a slight grin, leaning against the wall as she looks down at Alicent. “Excited for Greece?”

“Absolutely,” Alicent enunciates the word as she takes another step forward, further tightening the space between them. She reaches out tentatively and hooks her finger in Rhaenyra’s belt loop, tugging her slightly closer. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that conversation we had.”

“I’d hope so,” she retorts, letting herself be tugged closer by Alicent. “And I’m sincerely hoping it’s a good answer considering we’re about to sit next to each other on a plane for five hours.”

Alicent scoffs, brushing Rhaenyra off with a wave of her hand. “I think it’s only four hours and forty minutes.”

Her stomach flutters with a rush of butterflies now that she has Rhaenyra near her once again. She can’t stop thinking about the events spent in a certain club bathroom and, in fact, had not stopped thinking about it for the entire week. It was hard enough to make sense of her feelings after the first time, but after having Rhaenyra a second time—much more confidence and messy desire laced in every action of theirs—she was certain. She breathes in the scent of Rhaenyra, blissfully unaware of their surroundings as she takes it all in.

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra whispers, her voice almost shaky with uncertainty. She brings a hand up to Alicent’s face, furrowing her brow and looking down at her with concern lacing her expression. “What are we doing here?”

“I want to be with you, Rhaenyra,” Alicent finally admits, a weary sigh falling from her lips. “I’m absolutely certain. It’s all I can think about—you’re all I can think about. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, I don’t care to hide it, I just want you and I’m tired of not having you when I know you want this just as badly. I probably should have waited until we were in Greece instead of this stupid airport so it would be a bit more romantic, but I’m so sick of waiting and taking time and I just—”

Her rambling is cut off by Rhaenyra kissing her—softly, chaste enough for their semi-public setting and short enough to leave Alicent desiring more. Part of her wants to yank Rhaenyra into an airport bathroom stall and have her way with her here, but she thinks she’s had enough of bathroom sex. All she has to do is sit through a near five hour flight and then she’ll have Rhaenyra all to herself. Only, Alicent is miserable at being patient. Even so, she’ll try her best because even though she doesn’t want to hide her relationship with Rhaenyra, public sex is certainly not a good place to start with their publicity.

“So, then we’re doing this,” Rhaenyra says softly once she pulls away from Alicent, playing absentmindedly with her hands. “And you’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes, God, yes,” Alicent laughs, nodding her head as she tugs reassuringly at Rhaenyra’s belt loop. She can’t wait for filming to be over so she can have Rhaenyra all to herself—all the time off in the world for them to laze around in bed all day, doing all sorts of things with and to one another. It’s all she’s thought about. “I’ve already let Marcie know, everything will be taken care of. I just want you.”

“You have me,” Rhaenyra tells her, her voice soft with sickly sweet affection. “You’ve had me from the start.”

The call for boarding is announced over the loudspeaker and Alicent reluctantly lets go of Rhaenyra in favor of reaching for where she’d dropped her carry-on earlier. Her heart races with excitement as she reaches for Rhaenyra’s hand, intertwining their fingers without a second thought as she guides Rhaenyra towards boarding, keeping her as close as she can. Now that she has her, she does not wish to be apart from her for even a moment.

The flight itself is rather boring—she and Rhaenyra sync up a movie to watch together and Crazy Rich Asians is always a pleasant plane watch. On the armrest between the seats, Rhaenyra reaches for Alicent’s hand, lacing their fingers together comfortably with a content sigh. Alicent lets her head lean on Rhaenyra’s shoulder, drifting off slightly once the film is over.

Before she knows it, she’s waking up in Greece. Since filming is so short for this segment of production, the production crew has simply put them all up in the same hotel given that they should ideally only be here for about two weeks with filming set to begin tomorrow. It’s mid-evening by the time they make it to the car, Rhaenyra tugging Alicent into the same one as her before it takes off towards the hotel. They have to be up early for filming tomorrow and Alicent is beginning to feel the exhaustion from traveling even though it’s hardly later than 7pm.

By the time they get to the hotel, her phone buzzes and sure enough there’s a Twitter notification on her phone that reads, ‘@FilmUpdates: Rhaenyra Targaryen and Alicent Hightower spotted holding hands outside airport in Athens. Sources close to the pair have confirmed their relationship ahead of production on their film, ‘Unto Devotion’ wrapping later this month.

—@thejohneharris: it’s giving pr relationship but consider me sat either way

—@kieutougf: I LOVE LESBIANS ! LESBIANS NEVER LOSE !

—@uncannyfemme: me reading this who thought they started dating months ago oh well IM UP NONETHELESS’

Alicent laughs as the two of them head up to the elevator. Their rooms are down the hall from one another and silently, Alicent mourns not being directly across the hall from her anymore, but she supposes a few doors down will do.

This, of course, doesn't seem to matter because when Rhaenyra stops in front of her own door and Alicent moves to keep going down the hall, Rhaenyra is quick to tug her back with a laugh. “Oh, don’t think you’re going anywhere.”

Alicent laughs, pressing Rhaenyra up the door and kissing her passionately, smiling into it while Rhaenyra continues to fumble with the lock and keycard. She finally gets the door open and the two of them stumble inside. With the door shut behind them, Rhaenyra is quick to tug Alicent’s tank top over her head, tossing it to the floor, immediately returning to Alicent’s lips the moment the piece of clothing is out of the way. Alicent moans into the kiss as Rhaenyra’s hands find her waist, tugging their hips closer together. All exhaustion leaves her body as Alicent feels alive once more, fingers wrapped around her belt loops to keep Rhaenyra as close as possible.

She brings her hands to Rhaenyra’s face, their kiss becoming a languid crash of teeth and tongue, messy as she pushes Rhaenyra back towards the bed, shoving her shirt down her shoulders as she does so. Rhaenyra is quick to work at the button of Alicent’s jeans, shoving them down her thighs and allowing her to kick them off the rest of the way as they fall into bed. God, it’s been so long since they got to do this on an actual bed.

Alicent feels elated as Rhaenyra pushes her down into the mattress, straddling her hips as she pulls her own tank top over her head, surging down to meet Alicent’s lips. Alicent sits up slightly, unhooking her own bra and yanking it down her arms as she kisses Rhaenyra, not wanting to part from her for even the slightest of moments. Once bare, Rhaenyra pushes Alicent down and brings her mouth down her chest, biting and sucking marks into her chest and breasts that are light enough to fade by morning. Alicent’s hands tangle in her hair, moaning desperately as Rhaenyra teases her nipple with tongue and teeth.

Rhaenyra brings her thigh between Alicent’s legs, applying intense pressure to where she is already soaking through her underwear. Her jean-clad thigh provides an amount of friction that has a whine falling from Alicent’s lips, pushing her hips down against Rhaenyra, desperate for more. Alicent grips at Rhaenyra’s hips for purchase, tugging her ever closer as Rhaenyra continues to kiss along her chest and up her neck before joining her once again on the lips.

Alicent groans into the kiss as Rhaenyra moves her thigh, though only it seems so she can tug Alicent’s ruined underwear down without issue. She breaks away from Alicent, much to her chagrin, continuing her trail of kisses down her chest and stomach before adjusting herself between Alicent’s thighs, pulling one leg over her shoulder and keeping her grip tight on Alicent’s thigh, holding her in place.

There’s no time for teasing as Rhaenyra brings her tongue to Alicent’s c*nt with haste, dying to taste her as she swirls around her cl*t, causing a heady moan to fall from Alicent’s lips. She grips the unmussed sheets with one hand, throwing her head back against the pillows as her other hand yanks at Rhaenyra’s hair. Rhaenyra is unforgiving as she brings a hand up to accompany her tongue in tandem, two fingers pressing at her entrance yet not quite pushing inside, not yet. Alicent’s eyes flutter open to meet Rhaenyra who watches her with an intense gaze, light eyes darkened over with lust as she finally breaches Alicent’s entrance, pushing her two fingers in to the last knuckle and leaving them there for a moment as her blunt fingernails scrape against her inner walls. Alicent moans at the fullness of it, throwing her head back as she can’t hold back the noises that wrench themselves from her throat.

Her grip on Rhaenyra tightens as she begins to f*ck into her with the same pace her tongue explores her soaking wet folds, lapping up her desire with a desperation Alicent can feel laced in her fervor. She groans, the sound broken and shattered as she brings her lips up to clasp her thighs around Rhaenyra’s face. Her pace picks up and Alicent lets out a breathy grasp, her nails scraping against Rhaenyra’s scalp and tugging at her hair. She’s sure their neighbors can hear her, but that’s probably the last thing on her mind as Rhaenyra hits a spot with her finger that makes her yelp with pleasure.

“Rhaenyra, please,” Alicent breathes out, not even entirely sure what she’s asking for—her release, more, she has no clue, all she knows is she needs to be completely and utterly consumed by Rhaenyra.

Her tongue continues to work as she presses inward with another finger and Alicent gasps, feeling her stomach tighten as the overwhelming pleasure begins to build up to a quick release. It’s frankly impressive how quickly Rhaenyra always manages to get her there—already knowing the inner workings of her body within just a few intimate encounters. She yanks at Rhaenyra’s hair, pulling her tongue away from her cl*t as she tugs Rhaenyra up. Alicent adjusts her legs, pulling one off of Rhaenyra’s shoulder so she can instead tug her into a kiss. Rhaenyra’s strong hand grips her thigh, flesh digging into flesh as she continues to f*ck into Alicent at a breathless pace that leaves her gasping into the kiss.

Rhaenyra’s lips and teeth tear at her neck as Alicent finds herself reduced to a mess of gasping and gripping pleasure, hands feverishly grabbing at Rhaenyra as her org*sm wrecks her. Rhaenyra looks down at her, strands of silver hair laced with sweat and panting as she continues to f*ck Alicent through her org*sm, chin still slick with Alicent’s desire. Alicent can’t help but kiss her, tasting herself on her tongue as she moans into the kiss. The whole world knows about us. The thought itself only brings Alicent more pleasure.

Alicent sighs contentedly as Rhaenyra pulls her fingers out of Alicent, falling back on the mattress and licking them clean, tongue swirling around her fingers in a way that has Alicent hitching her breath. She reaches for Rhaenyra’s waist, tugging her closer, her fingertips tracing patterns up her side.

“Everyone knows. My team confirmed it publicly this afternoon,” Alicent says with a sigh, smiling softly when Rhaenyra continues to press languid, gentle kisses to her neck and jawline. It’s all so domestic, her heart melts within her chest. “I feel so… relieved to finally have it out there.”

“I’m proud of you,” Rhaenyra says, propping herself up on the mattress with the flat of her palm as she looks down at Alicent, hair falling loosely around her face. Alicent smiles, tucking a strands of hair behind her ear. She blushes, bringing her hand back down to hide her face but Rhaenyra swats it away. “Don’t be like that, I am. It’s been a difficult few months, but you came out on top.”

“Was that a coming out pun?”

“It wasn’t, but it can be,” Rhaenyra chuckles, surging down to kiss at Alicent’s neck in a way that has her bursting with giggles. She wraps her arms around Rhaenyra’s waist and keeps her close, the two of them falling into each other against the mattress.

After their laughter ceases, a content sigh falls from Alicent’s lips, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against Rhaenyra’s shoulder and arm. “I never knew it could be like this, you know? Never knew I could… feel so much. I feel like I was sleepwalking when I was with him and now… I’m so awake.”

Rhaenyra hums, kissing the line of her jaw. “I’m glad, I really am. And I’m happy I get to be this for you.”

Alicent looks up to meet her eyes, hand caressing Rhaenyra’s cheek with a soft smile on her face, hair splayed against the pillow as they lie entangled with one another on top of fresh sheets. From where her bag rests where she’d dropped it by the door, she can hear her phone buzzing and she groans.

“It’s probably Marcie,” she sighs, extricating herself from Rhaenyra’s grasp as she traipses across the hotel room, not bothering to grab any clothes as she does so—something she’s sure delights Rhaenyra considering she can see her gaze following Alicent’s every move. She reaches for her phone before returning to bed, sitting up against the pillows with her legs folded to the side. Rhaenyra leans there beside her, hand rubbing against her bare thigh with a calm expression on her face as Alicent presses the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Are you serious?” Criston’s voice causes Alicent’s blood to run cold in her veins, an icy air filling the room and attempting to suffocate her.

“Criston, I thought I blocked you,” Alicent says, alerting Rhaenyra’s attention immediately. She opens her mouth to say something but Alicent holds a finger to her lips, shaking her head softly. “How did you even manage this?”

“I’m calling from a f*cking payphone because my publicist just sent me a f*cking tweet claiming that you’re dating that stupid Targaryen and I wanted to hear the truth from you,” Criston seethes on the other line and Alicent rolls her eyes, bringing her hand to Rhaenyra’s hair and petting the silver-blonde locks softly as she listens to him drone on. “Because I refuse to believe the internet’s claims that my wife is, what? A lesbian? Is that what you are now?”

“For your information, yes, that is, in fact, what I am. And I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten, but it’s ex-wife now, you signed the papers months ago, as I’m sure you remember,” Alicent sighs, not even sure why she’s giving him the time of day. Maybe because his anger is currently bringing him great joy. If only he could see her right now, the vein he always gets in his forehead when he’s frustrated would probably burst. “And yes, I am dating that Targaryen as you so lovingly put it and I’m sure you would be delighted to know that I actually have her right here in bed, would you like to speak to her?”

Criston hangs up the phone before she can get out another word and Alicent tosses it to the side with a laugh. “Calling me from a f*cking payphone just to bitch about me dating a woman. I can’t believe I ever married him.”

Rhaenyra laughs, grabbing Alicent back down by the waist and kissing her softly, smiling into it as her hand presses against the small of her back. She pulls away to say, “Yeah, but you’re done with him now. Now I have you all to myself.”

Alicent bites her bottom lip, tracing the lines of Rhaenyra’s face as she nods. “All yours.”

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

The wrap party in Greece is Alicent’s favorite night of the year so far. The entire cast and majority of the crew find themselves at a club in Athens for the celebration and the night is soaked in champagne and glitter. Summer was coming to a close, but the night was still warm. Alicent would soon return to the eternal summer of Los Angeles while they waited for post-production to put together a final cut of the film, but for now, Alicent was in Greece with Rhaenyra and she felt alive. Her hair falls down her back as Rhaenyra’s hands find her hips over the fabric of the short and sparkling red number she’d thrown on that evening. She throws her head back to a song she doesn’t know, relishing in the sweat on her skin and Rhaenyra’s touch against her.

It’s nearing last call and for the first time in years, Alicent hardly feels the exhaustion she knows will be rife within her the next morning. She hasn’t drank too much, but the hangover will likely still have her in bed for the majority of her last day in Greece. Even so, she knows she and Rhaenyra should be getting back to the hotel soon. For their two weeks in Greece, Alicent’s hotel room has remained relatively untouched as she and Rhaenyra have been cohabitating for the most part. It was entirely blissful, though Alicent was dreading going back to Los Angeles because she had no way of knowing if Rhaenyra was going to be willing to join her or not.

She knew all she had to do was ask—ask where they stood, what their next moves were outside of filming, how things would continue. But it was difficult for Alicent to find the words every time she had the opportunity.

Alicent watches as Rhaenyra checks her watch, tugging Alicent close and leaning in close so she can shout in her ear over the pulsing music of the nightclub. “Getting late, want to head back?”

Alicent nods and reaches for Rhaenyra’s wrist, tugging her through the crowd out towards the front door of the club while the woman looks for her phone to call them a car back to the hotel. However, instead of the cool night air meeting them when they leave the club, there’s a swarm of photographers.

Camera flashes blind them as microphones are shoved in their faces as Alicent brings a hand up to shield her face, her tired, alcohol-infused brain hardly making any sense of the words being shouted at her.

“Miss Hightower, is it true you two were having an affair while you were still married to Criston Cole?” is one of the questions that sticks out to her, a question that makes Alicent sick to her stomach.

“No, f*ck off,” Rhaenyra answers for her, watching as the car pulls around the corner and the two of them begin to walk off toward it only to be followed. Rhaenyra whips around to face the crowd behind them. “Piss off and I mean it, or else I’m calling the cops. I won’t break your cameras, but they will.”

Alicent feels a swell of pride as she tries to make sense of her surroundings. As she reaches for the car door, one of the photographers puts a hand on her arm. Alicent whips around, yanking her arm back so fiercely the photographer stumbles back and falls to the ground. Alicent turns to him and spits, “Don’t f*cking touch me.”

The car door finally opens and Rhaenyra helps to usher her inside, sliding in after her with a heavy exhausted breath. Rhaenyra sighs, her hand not letting go of Alicent’s as she turns to her and asks, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” Alicent sighs, running a hand over her face as her shoulders deflate. She’s sobered up now from the intensity of the situation, still seeing the flashes of the cameras when she blinks. It gives her a headache. “I just can’t believe it—affair? We hadn’t spoken in ten years, much less… it’s ridiculous. Criston’s team must be behind this. It has to be, we never got these sorts of questions before.”

The public reception to their relationship had been overwhelmingly positive. The rockiness of her marriage was the worst kept secret in the world, so for the most part, people just seemed excited to see her happy for once. She had yet to actually say that she was a lesbian to the press—something that would likely only fuel the affair rumors, which was not something she took lightly. Alicent was many things, but disloyal was not one of them. She had been loyal to Criston to a fault and she was still trying to put herself back together because of it. The last thing she was going to do was sit there and be accused of such things when it was entirely detrimental to her character. She could have the press sued for libel, but that would only fuel the rumors more.

What had been a good evening had been sufficiently ruined and Alicent now found herself staring out the window as city streets passed her by. Rhaenyra didn’t press for which Alicent is grateful, though her hand did not leave its place on top of Alicent’s on the seat between them, something else she was grateful for.

The hotel, thankfully, is not swarmed by paparazzi and Alicent feels something in her unclench, releasing a breath as Rhaenyra helps her out of the car. She stumbles slightly in her heels, a sure sign the alcohol has not abandoned her body entirely, but Rhaenyra’s strong hand is on her waist in moments, the two of them entering the warm building with a reluctant sigh.

“I’ll call Marcie in the morning, for now, I just want to relax and go to sleep,” Alicent tells Rhaenyra as they step into the elevator. Rhaenyra’s arm is still around her waist as she leans down and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “If he caught me cursing at him on camera, I’ll probably have to do some damage control when I get back to LA. God, this is a nightmare.”

“It’s all right,” Rhaenyra whispers against the crown of her head. The elevator dings as they arrive at their floor and Alicent follows Rhaenyra down the hall with the sullen expression of a lost puppy trailing behind her. “There’s nothing we can do about it right now, so let’s not let it ruin tonight.”

Entering the room, Alicent groans, ripping at the straps of her shoes and tossing them aside. Rhaenyra shrugs off her jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair as she heads for the bathroom, beginning to draw a bath. Rhaenyra sighs, walking back over to where Alicent is still standing by the door, hands on her hips and head hung low, expression contemplative. Marcie is almost certainly asleep right now and she doesn’t want to wake her again—as she’s done several times over the course of her time in Europe, but the journalists outside the club today could have articles and photos up as soon as an hour from now. Thirty minutes if they really try.

Rhaenyra walks over, tugging at Alicent’s wrist as she says, “Well, you’re in no state to go to bed just yet. Come, have a bath with me, relax a little bit.”

She looks up, prepared to reject the invitation and just collapse onto the bed where she can overthink in peace, but when her gaze lands on Rhaenyra, she finds her already fiddling with the buttons on her shirt, shrugging it down her shoulders and revealing nothing underneath but the gold chains around her neck.

Rhaenyra reaches for Alicent, turning her around with a hand on her shoulder. Alicent brushes her hair aside as Rhaenyra’s fingers go for the zipper running down her back, slowly shrugging the straps off her shoulders and letting the dress fall to the floor. Alicent shivers as the air rushes to her newly exposed skin, goosebumps rising along her flesh as Rhaenyra presses against her, lips finding the soft skin of her shoulder.

“Come on, water’s warm,” Rhaenyra mutters in her ear, lips just barely pressing against her ear lobe. Alicent sighs, suddenly content as she lets Rhaenyra tug her to the bathroom.

With the tub filled, she shirks her underwear and steps into the steaming water, watching with hungry eyes as Rhaenyra undoes her belt buckle and lets her pants drop to the floor. A beat passes before Rhaenyra is joining her in the water, motioning for Alicent to move over so she can settle in behind her, her legs circling around Alicent’s. She leans back against her girlfriend’s chest comfortably, letting the water soak through her and relax the tension in her muscles.

“Thank you,” Alicent mumbles, her eyelids slipping closed. Beneath the water, Rhaenyra traces patterns along the flesh of her stomach—the action is absent-minded, coming to her as easily as breathing. Alicent leans into it, just letting herself be comfortable with her.

She was never like this with Criston. She spent the last decade of her life on edge, waiting to do something wrong, for him to start criticizing her. There was very little intimacy between the two of them outside of the bedroom and even that became sparse quickly. He never cared about making her feel good or anything of the sort. Just years of her being there for him to get his rocks off. Alicent tries not to think about it, not when she’s blissfully pressed up against Rhaenyra, surrounded by warm water, but she can’t help it.

Alicent sniffles, feeling a warm tear slide down her cheek and she brings a wet hand to wipe it off as if more water on her face will hide the fact that she was crying in the first place.

“Alicent? What’s wrong, darling?” Rhaenyra asks, her voice rough and sweet in Alicent’s ear. It makes her smile, despite her eyes still welling with tears.

“Nothing, nothing, I just—” Alicent begins, unsure how to even put it into words. “I just don’t know why I let myself be so unhappy with him for so long. And now that I am trying to be happy, I’m being punished for it by him. I just hate that he still has this… this hold on me. I should be over it. I’m the one that left him, I’m the one that got out, and yet he’s still haunting me and I hate it. I hate that I put up with it, that it took me so long to leave, took me so long to—to find you.”

Rhaenyra finds Alicent’s hand beneath the water, lacing their fingers together as she coos, “It’s okay, it’s okay. All that matters is that you’re here now. You got here, yeah? It’d be no fun if it was easy.”

Alicent chuckles at this, turning slightly so she can catch Rhaenyra’s lips in a kiss. The comfort floods through her immediately, the relief of having Rhaenyra near—of being able to touch her whenever she wants, of being able to be with her like this. It is so unlike anything she’s ever experienced, anything she’s ever let herself experience. Even when she and Rhaenyra had slept together the first time, their relationship had never been like this. It had been rushed, unsure, and subsequently fractured. Never had she been allowed to linger in her love for Rhaenyra, dipping her toes into the pool of it, figuring it out. It was exhilarating in its softness. Alicent hardly had any idea what to make of it.

“I love you,” Alicent whispers, scared to voice the thought out loud. Though she and Rhaenyra had only been officially dating for a handful of weeks, the emotions between them had been wrought over the course of a decade, whether she knew about them or not. Through weeping eyes, now, though, she sees clearly. “I love you, Rhaenyra.”

Rhaenyra kisses her deeply, then, sighing into it. Her hands tangle in Alicent’s half-soaked hair as Alicent shifts her position so she can get a better angle to taste Rhaenyra. She pants into it, feeling winded as she soaks in the closeness of her, the love shared between them.

She pulls away just to lean her forehead against Alicent’s and confirm what Alicent already knows. “I love you, too.”

Alicent chuckles softly, kissing Rhaenyra again as the water sloshes lightly around them, hands tangling in Rhaenyra’s hair. Their kisses are languid, not necessarily intending to go anywhere further than where they are currently, but Alicent doesn’t mind. Rhaenyra smiles against Alicent’s lips, sighting softly against her.

“I feel like I need you to pinch me,” Rhaenyra whispers, “Remind me I’m not dreaming.”

“You’re not,” Alicent chuckles against her lips, humming softly before breaking away to press a kiss to Rhaenyra’s nose. “I feel that way, too. I’m still not entirely sure how we ended up here.”

Rhaenyra sighs, looking up to the ceiling as if deep in thought before saying, “Well, ten years ago…”

“Okay, okay, I understand literally what happened,” Alicent laughs, twisting back around so her back lies against Rhaenyra’s chest. “I just kind of thought I was destined to be vaguely unhappy the rest of my life. I don’t know. Kind of dreadful, but, well, you’ve met my father.”

A laugh wrenches its way from Rhaenyra’s throat as she chuckles, brushing away stray strands of Alicent’s hair as she does so. “I have, that’s true. When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“And when was the last time you spoke to yours?”

“Actually recently,” Rhaenyra sighs, “Only because he isn’t doing well. I’m partially convinced he only started dying so I would talk to him again.”

“I didn’t know he was even sick,” Alicent furrows her brow, watching the water swirl around her finger in front of her. “I’m sorry, that’s horrid, regardless of your relationship with him. I haven’t called father in—God, it’s been years. I’d probably called you more recently than him prior to a few months ago. I got my money and got away from him as quickly as I could. Of course, I just ran right into the arms of another controlling narcissist, but I digress.”

Rhaenyra hums, running her fingers along the skin of Alicent’s arms softly. “Yeah, but you got out of that one, too.”

Alicent sighs contentedly, leaning deeper against Rhaenyra and sliding lower into the water. She loves just being present with her, feeling her near. She would be content to stay the entire night in this bath, just talking until the water gets cold if not for the exhaustion pulling at her eyelids. The remnants of the drinks she had during the evening have faded from her bloodstream and now she is simply tired. Her eyelids must have slipped closed long enough because she feels Rhaenyra reaching to pull the drain, a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I’m up,” Alicent jostles herself awake, grabbing onto the edge of the tub as Rhaenyra gets out first, handing out a towel to Alicent before offering a hand to help her out as well.

“Let’s get you to bed, darling,” Rhaenyra coos, wrapping a towel around herself and shaking out her short hair in a way that reminds Alicent a bit too much of a golden retriever, but it makes her smile. She dries herself off, squeezing past Rhaenyra with a hand on her forearm and a kiss on her temple as she heads into the main part of the hotel room where her clothes are exploding from her suitcase.

Her eyes linger, searching instead through Rhaenyra’s pile to grab one of her t-shirts and pull it over her head before grabbing some of her own underwear. They used to share clothes all the time when they were friends, but it’s been ages since Alicent was once again swathed by fabric that smelled of Rhaenyra. Arms come around her waist and Rhaenyra is there, pressing her lips to the crook of Alicent’s neck before separating from her to grab a shirt and some shorts to sleep in.

All thoughts of paparazzi and press leave Alicent’s mind entirely as she finds herself entirely surrounded by Rhaenyra. She heads back into the bathroom to brush her teeth, looking at herself in the mirror—-Rhaenyra’s mirror—and all she can think of is just how used to this she could be. She wants to wake up next to Rhaenyra every morning, to share things, to have baths together as long as they want.

When she steps back into the bedroom, Rhaenyra is lounging on the bed with one arm behind her head and a leg propped up as she scrolls absentmindedly through her phone. Alicent sighs, crossing her arms as she leans up against the door frame. “So, are you going back to London after filming, then? I know you still have a place there when you do your plays.”

“I knew you checked up on me,” Rhaenyra drawls, not looking up from her phone.

“Of course, I did,” Alicent scoffs, rolling her eyes slightly. “So?”

“So what?”

“London?”

Rhaenyra nods, looking up from her phone before catching the sincerity in Alicent’s expression, dropping her phone against her stomach. “I didn’t have anything particular in mind. I was thinking about going back to London, but my agent has also been putting me up for some films based in LA so I might just hang around there for a bit as well while I’m in between roles.”

“Or,” Alicent begins, walking over to the bed and crawling up towards Rhaenyra, “You could hang out in LA because your beautiful, sexy, smart, and funny girlfriend lives there and—”

“I love when you say that,” Rhaenyra cuts her off with a muffled laugh as she wraps an arm around Alicent’s waist and tugs her closer, burying her face in her neck and pressing a series of kisses there. Alicent laughs and falls down onto Rhaenyra, letting herself be tugged down against the mattress. “Girlfriend. I love the sound of that. Just perfect.”

“You’re a sap,” Alicent muses, brushing Rhaenyra’s hair out of her face and kissing her softly. “I never knew you could be like this, it’s amazing.”

Rhaenyra hums, kissing Alicent again. “You make me like this. I hardly recognize myself, really, I’m entirely lovesick. Couldn’t have written it better myself—girl of my dreams for the last ten years not only woke up, realized she was a lesbian, but also chose me. It’s better than any movie I’ve ever been in.”

“Stay in LA with me,” Alicent offers, letting her eyes slip closed Rhaenyra’s grip tightens around her waist. “Just stay for a bit, figure out your next roles from there. I don’t want to have you like this just to be apart until God knows when.”

“Maybe we can con our agents into getting our next roles together, too,” Rhaenyra suggests with a humorous tone. “If this one does well, I think we could pull it off. I mean it.”

Alicent laughs, shifting slightly so her back is against the mattress, eyes opening to stare at the ceiling. She nestles closer against Rhaenyra, hands playing with her own necklace. “I’m already booked for that drama that shoots in LA, it starts filming in like three or four months, I think, I don’t remember. Maybe after that, though, we can plan something.”

“We can be one of those annoying couples that drag each other to everything,” Rhaenyra comments softly. “Like Kirsten Dunst and Jesse Plemons.”

“Does that make me Kirsten Dunst? I need about a hundred more films to my name before I get even close.”

Rhaenyra just sighs, “You’ll get there. For now, though, we’ll just go back to LA. Have some time to ourselves for a while before we get back to work. Maybe I’ll run into Criston and get a chance to beat him up.”

Alicent scoffs, smacking Rhaenyra softly on the arm, “There will be no beating up. Not unless it’s me doing it, of course.”

“Of course.”

Alicent’s eyes slip closed once more and she feels sleep gnawing at her, begging to tug her away, but she doesn’t quite want to stop talking to Rhaenyra. She relishes in the feeling of the woman’s arms around her, basking in her warmth despite the blistering summer heat. Rhaenyra leaves for a moment and Alicent almost finds the energy to get up and ask where she’s off to, but then the light switch turns and the room is bathed in darkness. A beat passes and Alicent once again finds the warmth of Rhaenyra, turning into her arms as she is encircled by her, nestling against her chest as if the spot were made for her.

Rhaenyra doesn’t say anything else. Instead, she just presses a kiss to Alicent’s forehead and sighs, settling down against her. It’s not long before sleep claims Alicent—the most peaceful sleep she’s had in years.

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Alicent never realized how quiet and lonely her apartment in Los Angeles had been until she had Rhaenyra filling that space. She has a little bit of time off before her next project starts and she’s grateful for the small break especially considering her divorce—and now, alleged affair has been front page news again, she doesn’t mind laying low. Denying the affair was easy considering she and Rhaenyra had hardly been spotted in the same country over the last ten years let alone spotted together, but that unfortunately didn’t keep people from talking. An article came out with Criston’s team all over talking about how devastated Criston was that Alicent had moved on so quickly following their divorce, but Alicent found it hard to pay him any mind when the only thing she could think about was Rhaenyra.

“f*ck, Rhaenyra,” Alicent moans out, gripping the kitchen counter as Rhaenyra’s fingers bruise her hips, one hand against her spine and keeping her against the clean marble as she f*cks into her from behind. She won’t lie and say having Rhaenyra in her immediate vicinity hasn’t been one of the best decisions she’s ever made. She’s also increasingly grateful for the little dress she wore to run her errands this morning because it apparently looked good enough on her that Rhaenyra practically begged to take her the moment she walked in the door.

Rhaenyra f*cks into her with her favorite dild*, so soaked in her core that it slides in and out of her with little resistance, filling her up so nicely as Rhaenyra’s hips snap against hers as if they were two puzzle pieces meant to fit together perfectly. Alicent moans, the nose broken and wrecked as it falls from her throat, bucking her hips back against Rhaenyra, begging for more as her org*sm builds within her, hot and fierce in the pit of her stomach.

“So good for me, darling,” Rhaenyra breathes out, pressing kisses down her spine in a way that is so gentle and intimate it makes Alicent want to cry. She groans, snapping her hips back against Rhaenyra’s grip, chasing her own org*sm alongside every thrust from Rhaenyra.

“Rhaenyra, I’m going—” Alicent begins to say, but her own moan cuts her off as her org*sm crashes into her, her grip on the counter sliding as Rhaenyra’s strong grip on her hips keeps her knees from buckling.

Rhaenyra pulls out of her, letting the tip of the dild* slide through her slick folds just to torture her sensitive c*nt even more before. Alicent shudders, feeling Rhaenyra bend down, kissing the insides of her thighs as she pulls Alicent’s underwear back up. Alicent can’t help but smile at her sweetness, turning around as she stands up to catch Rhaenyra’s lips with her own. Rhaenyra smiles into the kiss, kicking off her pants and tugging the harness down her hips as she tugs Alicent towards the bathroom.

“You’re insatiable,” Alicent teases as Rhaenyra starts up the shower, steam slowly filling the bathroom as she slides the straps of Alicent’s dress down her shoulders. “Absolutely insatiable.”

Rhaenyra hums, pulling Alicent into a kiss as she shrugs her own shirt over her shoulders. “I think you like it, though.”

“I do,” Alicent muses, tugging the now-nude Rhaenyra under the spray of water and pressing her against the misty shower door, lips trailing kisses down her neck as Rhaenyra smiles. The water is warm against her back, a steady constant stream as she kisses down Rhaenyra’s chest and stomach until she’s on her knees on the tile floor. Rhaenyra’s hand tangles in her wet locks, a shuddering breath passing through her chest as Alicent nips at her inner thighs.

“f*ck,” Rhaenyra whispers as Alicent’s tongue first makes contact with her dripping c*nt. She’s soaked just from f*cking Alicent, something that is not lost on her. She loves how turned on Rhaenyra gets from giving it to her, how she makes her feel so carnally desired in a way no one has shown her before.

She swirls her tongue around Rhaenyra’s cl*t, applying pressure as she laps up the slickness between her thighs, cleaning her up along with the spray of the shower. Rhaenyra’s fingers in her hair keep her grounded, pulling on her scalp just enough to keep her present. Alicent moans against her c*nt as Rhaenyra tugs at her scalp, the noise and subsequent vibrations causing Rhaenyra to shudder. She slides slightly against the steamed up glass door, but a hand on her hip from Alicent steadies her as her tongue dips lower towards her entrance.

It’s not long before she can feel Rhaenyra falling apart beneath her tongue and Alicent brings two fingers up towards Rhaenyra’s interest to help her along in her org*sm, tongue returning its focus to her cl*t as Rhaenyra’s gasping moans blend with the sound of water hitting the tile below them. Rhaenyra presses herself further against the door, yanking at Alicent’s hair as it ties in knots around her strong grip. Alicent presses kisses to her inner thighs, nipping at the lines of muscle beneath the skin, reveling in the taste and scent of Rhaenyra surrounding her, mingling with the steam.

Once she’s settled Rhaenyra pulls Alicent to her feet and kisses her sweetly, hands settling around her hips—where bruises from earlier are slowly forming into her tan flesh. She giggles as Rhaenyra turns her around, reaching for her bottle of shampoo. Alicent sighs into the steam as she feels Rhaenyra’s hands in her hair, massaging shampoo into her long locks with all the care in the world. Alicent doesn’t think she’s ever felt so content.

They continue their shower peacefully, taking turns helping each other and spending far too much time kissing beneath the spray of warm water for someone who pays her own water bill. Alicent doesn’t mind—she’d spend all the time in the world in the shower if it meant she got to enjoy Rhaenyra uninterrupted.

When they do step out, though, their blissful afternoon is ruined by the shrill ringing of Alicent’s phone. She groans, towel still wrapped around her as Rhaenyra presses a kiss to her shoulder and heads to clean up their mess in the kitchen. Alicent heads into the bedroom, pressing the phone to her ear with a sigh. “What’s up?”

“What would you say to an official magazine spread with you and Rhaenyra? Both for the movie and for your relationship,” is how Marcie answers the phone. Instantly, her heart is racing with the idea—rife with both excitement and fear.

“Are we sure this is the right time? I mean Criston is outright accusing us of having an affair and now you want to put the two of us on the cover of a magazine?” Alicent pinches the bridge of her nose, settling down on the edge of the bed for a moment just to ground herself. “It just feels… I don’t know. Tasteless?”

Marcie sighs, her voice gentler when she speaks to Alicent next. “Alicent, dear, you do know that you haven’t done anything wrong, right? Your divorce was finalized and even if it wasn’t, you two had been separated for months. You are well within your rights to be seeing someone else and you should be allowed to talk about it. A magazine spread would not only make the two of you official official, but it would also give you a chance to really clear the air about the divorce. All this time, you’ve been speaking through your team, I think it’s time you get the opportunity to speak for yourself, Alicent.”

Alicent knows she’s right and yet she still finds her hands shaking. This whole time, she’s been using her team, pushing things through “sources close” to her because it was so much easier than putting it into words herself. She catches her reflection in the floor length mirror on her bedroom wall. She wasn’t sure when she became such a coward. She wants the world to know about her and Rhaenyra—they already do, sure, but she wants to speak about it. To gush about Rhaenyra in interviews, to be plastered on a magazine cover with her, it seems nice.

“I’ll speak to Rhaenyra about it,” she says in lieu of an agreement because it’s easier than saying she isn’t sure. Besides, Rhaenyra should be part of that conversation if she’s going to be on the cover with her. “And I’ll get back to you with it soon, okay?”

“Sounds good, I need to hear back by end of day tomorrow so we can get rolling with it,” Marcie tells her before hanging up the phone.

Alicent sighs, running a hand through her still wet hair as she drops her towel and searches for something to dress herself with. She’s just pulling a tank top over her head when Rhaenyra walks in. She brushes past Alicent with a gentle brush of the shoulder to grab a t-shirt, tugging it on along with a pair of shorts before asking, “What did Marcie have to say?”

“How’d you know it was Marcie?” Alicent asks, pulling up a pair of jeans and pausing to give Rhaenyra a kiss on the cheek.

“The only other person who calls you is me. Everyone else is a texter,” Rhaenyra hums, flopping down on the bed with her hands across her stomach. Alicent joins her, sighing softly as Rhaenyra wraps an arm around her shoulders, nestling against her. “So, what’s up?”

“Marcie thinks we should do a magazine spread,” she says, looking up to meet Rhaenyra’s gaze. The woman looks down at her with a furrowed brow. “She thinks it would be a good way to clear the air and really put us out there properly. I… I think it’s not a bad idea. Plus, we would probably look great.”

“We would look absolutely fantastic,” Rhaenyra agrees, tugging Alicent closer and pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Let me guess, it’s marketing for the film as well?”

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt,” Alicent adds with a chuckle. “So, you’re game?”

“Absolutely.”

The cover shoot goes easily enough. They went for a Mr. & Mrs. Smith style shoot with Rhaenyra in a suave suit, half of her white shirt unbuttoned and a tie hanging loose around the collar while Alicent herself wears a simple ankle-length black dress with a slit that goes all the way up to her thigh—high enough that a blushing makeup artist had to cover a couple of bruises on the side of her skin, leftover from their kitchen escapades a couple days earlier. Alicent didn’t allow herself to be embarrassed, though, after all, she was essentially here to talk about how she and Rhaenyra go at it like rabbits.

Now, though, with photos out of the way, the two of them settle down for the interview. They sit side by side on a comfortable loveseat, Rhaenyra’s hand settling on the thigh Alicent has crossed over her other leg.

“So, Alicent, you first,” the interviewer, Natalie, begins. “Prior to this, you were married for ten years so obviously where wasn’t much room to discuss your identity because everyone felt they had their answer—you were with a man, so of course, that was what everyone expected of you. Now, though, this relationship has kind of caught everyone off guard. The relationship we know is recent, but did you identify as queer when you were still married to Criston Cole?”

Alicent chuckles softly, brushing a lock of finely styled hair out of her face. She clasps her hands in her lap, gripping onto Rhaenyra’s for support. Rhaenyra squeezes back, turning her head and offering Alicent an encouraging smile. “Unfortunately, that development is almost as recent as the relationship. It was… a struggle to come to terms with especially having been married to a man, but I think it’s important for me to clear the air and say that I do identify as a lesbian, I am a lesbian. And that doesn’t mean I never loved my husband, I—we had a complicated relationship. And I wouldn’t even necessarily say that my sexuality is why our relationship ended, there were a lot of factors. Though, now that I’ve figured it out, I won’t rule its involvement out completely, I was just horrendously unaware.”

“Coming to terms with something this momentous later in life is relieving, I’m sure, if not a little terrifying, right?” Natalie asks to which Alicent nods with a nervous laugh.

“Absolutely,” Alicent agrees, “Terrifying enough to deal with on your own let alone when the entire world is watching you at all times. I mean, people have been speculating my sexuality for ages and I just kind of laughed it off, it’s one of those things that kind of comes with the gig. I kind of knew it would be fine? I mean, people will complain about anything, but it’s not something I really thought would ruin my career. Unfortunately, though, that didn’t make me any less scared to actually come out and say it.”

“And yet, here you are,” she commends with a smile on her face, leaning back in her chair. “So, that’s all cleared up, now I want to get to the juicy stuff—the two of you. Friends before you were famous, then you suddenly don’t talk for a decade, and now that you’re on a movie together… well, you know.”

Rhaenyra laughs, choosing to answer this one, “Well, of course, I checked up on her over the years, she’s my best friend. I don't think that’s a love that ever properly faded. There were a lot of factors that led into why we lost touch, I hate when people say it was because Alicent got too famous or bullsh*t like that—sorry, can I swear? Anyway, when we met prior to filming, it was just—instantly back where we started, like no time had passed at all. And well, we actually didn’t get together until, until…?

Rhaenyra drifts off, giving Alicent the floor to which she rolls her eyes and nudges her gently with her shoulder. “Until the very last few weeks of filming, we’d already wrapped in Italy, on our way to Greece when I finally stopped being a git. It’s one of those things that was a long time coming. We’ve always meant a lot to each other and I think the years apart only emphasized that.”

“So filming was almost over? You two were spotted looking incredibly cozy in Italy quite a bit, I’d say if you weren’t dating then, maybe it really was only a matter of time,” Natalie jokes with a small laugh. Alicent chuckles along with her, thinking about that first paparazzi photo she still has saved in her phone. “I think you two actually faced a handful of accusations that you were seeing each other while you were still married to Criston Cole, but I’m assuming that’s just hearsay?”

“That very first dinner in LA was the first time we’d seen each other since I married Criston, let alone divorced him,” Alicent answers with ease, leaning back in her seat and letting herself reach for Rhaenyra’s hand, thumb brushing against the back of her knuckles. “And even then, by that dinner my divorce was already finalized. Really, Rhaenyra had little to do with the end of our marriage, I’d like to take credit for that one, personally. Contrary to what we looked like in magazines and movies, I was miserable, truly. I think some people latch onto set chemistry and try to make a marriage out of it and that was very much what we did and it very much did not work. My only regret is taking so long to figure that out.”

She isn’t sure where the tenacity came from, but she likes the feeling of it. She can feel Rhaenyra looking at her with pride, squeezing her hand gently as if to reassure her that she’s doing the right thing. Alicent breathes out a weary sigh, smiling softly at the interviewer. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful as he would probably call me, but I’ve truly never felt more relieved in my life than when I got the news that everything was done between us. And that emotion is entirely separate from my relationship with Rhaenyra. He would… he would like to think that he was wronged in some way, but truly, I was a faithful wife and I did what I could to provide for a man who, to put it plain and simple, did not care for me when I was not hanging off of his arm on a red carpet. For the first time in my life, I feel like an equal in a relationship and I’m not going to allow that to be tainted by his accusations.”

“Damn,” Rhaenyra mutters beside her, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “That was hot.”

Alicent laughs, throwing her head back and bringing her hand to the back of Rhaenyra’s head so she can kiss her on the cheek, not worried in the slightest about where they are right now. The two of them settle down and Alicent returns her gaze to the interviewer, ready to carry on.

“Well, with that out of the way,” Natalie continues with a choked laugh, her cheeks flushed red—she was likely as unprepared for Alicent’s small outburst as Alicent herself was, “Let’s talk about the film. Alicent this is your second time working with Luca, but Rhaenyra, your first, what was that like?”

“Well, I’ve always really admired Luca’s films from afar and I caught Sunsetters ahead of filming for Unto Devotion and it was just brilliant, I mean, I haven’t met a Luca film that I didn’t like. Now that I’ve worked with him, it was just clear to me how much love and passion he puts into telling these stories and he coaxes a good performance out of his actors using that passion and just—yeah, probably one of my favorite films I’ve worked on, though, I don’t say I wasn’t just glad to finally be on a film set with Alicent. I can certainly see us doing more films in the future—Alicent, definitely, and Luca, if he’ll have me.”

Natalie smiles and the rest of the interview passes without incident, something that leaves Alicent feeling utterly relieved. She dresses back in her regular clothes, just a simple button-up she stole from Rhaenyra with some jeans, tugging her loose hair out of the collar as Rhaenyra finds her.

“You were good in there,” Rhaenyra greets her, leaning against the door frame. “Do you feel good now that you’ve gotten that out? It looked like it felt good.”

Alicent laughs, smiling widely as she wraps her arms around Rhaenyra’s neck and pulls her into a kiss. “It felt bloody amazing, I’ll tell you that. God, I hope that whiny bitch spreads more lies about me in the press so I can refute them in even bitchier manners.”

Rhaenyra laughs, repeating softly, “Whiny bitch. What a perfect way to put it. He’s almost certainly not going to be happy, but I’d like to see him try to cross another line, see how it shakes out for him.”

She pulls back, looking at the tense expression on her face, biting the inside of her cheek as she resists the urge. “I never knew you to have such a protective streak. It’s hot.”

A small flush of pink fills Rhaenyra’s cheeks, but she covers it up with another kiss as she leans down and captures Alicent’s lips with her own. “Only when it comes to you. Besides, it’s not my fault his face is beautifully punchable.”

“Come on, dear, let’s get home,” Alicent hums, interlocking her fingers with Rhaenyra’s and tugging her towards the door. Outside the studio, there’s paparazzi waiting for them, but Alicent just waves, pulling sunglasses down over her eyes to shield from the Los Angeles afternoon. Her grip on Rhaenyra tightens as she fields questions, not paying them any mind as they head for the car.

Rhaenyra smiles as Alicent opens the car door, grabbing Alicent by the waist and preventing her from getting in for a moment. She stops in front of the cameras and tugs Alicent closer, pressing their lips together in a sweet kiss that manages to have so much simple passion she finds her heart racing with the slightest touch. Alicent brings her fingertips gently to Rhaenyra’s cheek, sighing into the kiss as the world around them seems to melt entirely away. She grins softly as she pulls away, shaking her head at Rhaenyra’s antics and sliding into the backseat of the car.

Rhaenyra follows not long after, slamming the door shut as the screech of paparazzi quiets. Alicent scoffs, rolling her eyes as she tugs Rhaenyra closer in the backseat of the car, pulling the woman practically onto her lap so she can kiss her deeply and hungrily. The windows of the car are tinted, she’s not overly concerned at the moment.

“You,” a kiss, “are such,” another kiss, “a dork,” Alicent finishes, laughing as she kisses Rhaenyra again and again. The act becomes languid and easy as city streets pass by outside the windows and she finds herself increasingly excited to make it back to the apartment. “Though, I suppose giving them a show is better than beating them up.”

“I would never beat someone up, I’m a perfectly respectable actress,” Rhaenyra scoffs, catching Alicent’s eye and laughing. “Look, if someone puts their hands on you, who am I to not shove them to the ground? As your hot, strong, butch girlfriend, it’s my job.”

Alicent just laughs, brushing stray locks of blonde out of her eyes as she holds Rhaenyra’s face. God, she never knew love could feel like this. She doesn’t think she’s ever been in love until now. Scratch that—she knows she’s never been in love until now. She brings her lips to Rhaenyra’s once more. “You’re utterly ridiculous. I love you so much it hurts.”

Rhaenyra chuckles, kissing Alicent’s lips and then her nose and her cheeks and essentially everywhere. “I love you, too. So much that I think I don’t know what to do with it most of the time.”

The car stops outside of Alicent’s apartment building and they get out quickly. Alicent takes a moment to bask in the afternoon sun of a late summer, running a hand over her skin as she closes her eyes. Rhaenyra holds the door for her, just watching her with affection laced in her gaze.

“What do you want for dinner, dear?”

Alicent opens her eyes, her gaze falling on Rhaenyra. Her heart swells. “Well, let’s go on up and have a look at our options and then I’ll have an opinion.”

Rhaenyra just chuckles, her arm sliding home around Alicent’s waist as she passes through the door. Alicent leans her head on Rhaenyra’s shoulder with a content sigh. She can hardly think about eating with Rhaenyra so near to her. She’s so in love, all she wants to do is scream it from every rooftop in the city. Looking at Rhaenyra in her apartment, her space, her life, all she can think about is how perfect she looks here.

Once upstairs, she taps her fingers against the counter, watching Rhaenyra sort through the fridge as she puts together dinner options. “Rhaenyra, I know… it’s a lot to ask, but would you ever want to move in… permanently?”

Rhaenyra pauses, looking at Alicent beside the fridge door with a furrowed brow. “Permanently?”

Alicent bites her lips and nods. “I know it hasn’t been very long at all, but I just… the thought of you not being here, of you going off to some project and me having to come home to an empty apartment, well, I hate it. Don’t you?”

Rhaenyra’s expression softens and she closes the fridge door. She walks over to Alicent and grabs her waist, tugging her close until their foreheads press together. “Alicent, I would do everything in my power to make sure you are never sad ever again. I would love to properly move in with you.”

Alicent kisses her, hands winding around Rhaenyra’s neck and tugging her close, all thoughts of dinner completely forgotten.

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

“Rhaenyra, darling, we’re going to be late,” Alicent reminds her girlfriend as she stands in front of the hallway mirror, pushing a pearl earring through her ear. Her make-up team had left not too long ago, so now it was just up to her to get the two of them through the door and in the car in order for them to be on time for the premiere. Granted, with Alicent in charge, they’re already five minutes late.

Rhaenyra had been living here for months and Alicent has never been happier. She has the night off from filming her current movie in order to attend the premiere for Unto Devotion while Rhaenyra is in pre-production for a new film with production thankfully based in LA. Alicent is sure she would survive if Rhaenyra had to film anywhere but Los Angeles, though she’s glad it’s not something she had to think about. Things have been peaceful—their magazine spread was a hit, she hadn’t heard from Criston, and she and Rhaenyra were spending a healthy amount of time in bed together. There was little she had to complain about.

Even so, she still felt the pre-premiere jitters. Alicent stared back at her reflection—her dress was a 90s vintage Chanel pull she was borrowing for the evening—a black chiffon gown with a low sweetheart neckline that flowed into short off the shoulder sleeves. It billowed around her legs loosely, swaying with every step she took as the fabric just barely brushed against the floor. She paired it with pearl earrings and a necklace to match, gloves made of a black tulle came up to where the sleeve ended, though she was sure she would spend half of the night pulling them up. Her stylist has her hair up in a style that screams fifties starlet, though Alicent is already itching from the amount of bobby pins holding it together. She takes a deep breath, running her fingers over the velvet Versace pumps beside her before stepping into them.

“Jesus,” Rhaenyra comes around the corner, still fastening her watch to her wrist as she takes a look at Alicent. She’s matching, more or less, in a velvet black suit and an off-white half unbuttoned shirt beneath, matching the pearl earrings she swears. Her watch is gold, different from the one she wears every day, but it matches her cufflinks. If they weren’t already late, Alicent would probably jump her right here and now. She finishes attaching her watch and takes two long strides over to Alicent, hands finding her waist immediately. She leans in closely, whispering in Alicent’s ear, “You are unbelievably stunning.”

“You clean up quite nicely yourself,” Alicent whispers back, hands firm on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. Rhaenyra pulls back and goes for a kiss but Alicent steps back. “Nuh uh, lipstick.”

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes, settling for kissing the top of Alicent’s head instead. “Come on, car’s waiting.”

“That’s my line,” Alicent groans, grabbing her matching clutch and checking she has everything she needs before heading for the door. Rhaenyra holds it open for her, closing and locking it behind them as they head for the elevator. She checks the time on Rhaenyra’s watch, tapping her foot impatiently as they head downstairs.

Once in the car, Alicent is quiet—hands folded neatly in her lap while her leg bounces nervously against the black interior of the car. After a moment, she huffs and turns to Rhaenyra, “What if it’s terrible and everyone hates it?”

“It won’t be,” Rhaenyra responds quickly as if she had anticipated this precise question before Alicent had even thought of it herself. “Come on, be excited. I know it’s not as fancy as Cannes or Venice, but that doesn’t mean it won’t still be critically acclaimed. The press junket loved it and they’re all eyeing you. This film will do nothing but secure the Oscar buzz for Sunsetters.”

“You really think I could do it?” Alicent asks, whipping around to face Rhaenyra. It’s December now, though one would hardly feel it living in Los Angeles, but that means there’s roughly a month until nominations are out. Alicent knows it’s incredibly common for Palme D’or winners to end up with Oscars in their hands and Alicent wouldn’t be surprised if Sunsetters snagged an Best Picture nomination—maybe even a win, but the idea of herself being nominated is absolutely preposterous.

Unto Devotion premiering now means that it’s pretty much out of the running for next year's awards ceremony—a month after the cut off for the previous year, but too soon in the next cycle for it to overcome the competition over the next year. Which means Rhaenyra is right—her performance here will likely just solidify her status in the conversation for last year’s awards. The thought of even a nomination hurts her head. She’s built up her career doing independent films that usually premiere on the festival circuit and then end up rotting on streaming services several months later, but Sunsetters was different. It’s a Palme D’or winner, a film hot off the success of Luca’s last film, Challengers, and she has a real shot. It’s a realization that takes her breath away.

“I think it’s a crime you don’t already have one,” Rhaenyra comments, reaching across the space between them and grabbing Alicent’s hand in hers. She smiles softly before letting go, hands falling into her own lap as her gaze returns to the window. She had been quiet all morning, though Alicent just assumed she was suffering from the same jitters Alicent was. She doesn’t want to press the matter, so she lets silence settle over the car instead.

The car pulls up outside the red carpet, but Alicent had seen it coming practically a mile away given the sheer amount of camera flashes and spotlights she could see. Rhaenyra gets out on her side, the click of cameras unmistakeable the moment she’s in view. She holds the door open with one hand, offering her other to Alicent, helping her out of the car so she can remain graceful. Instantly all she hears is hers and Rhaenyra’s names over and over again as photographers vie for their attention.

Marcie is waiting for her on the carpet with her assistant to which Alicent hands off her clutch—regretfully so because she never quite knows what to do with her hands on red carpets—before wrapping an arm around Rhaenyra’s bent elbow and heading down the carpet. Her dress cascades behind her as a light breeze brushes through the chilled Los Angeles night. Alicent gets a strange sense of deja vu from her last premiere—where Harwin had been by her side instead and she had been forced to answer questions surrounding her fresh divorce instead of literally any other subject.

She takes a deep breath, shooting a nervous look at Rhaenyra as they walk down the carpet, stopping every few steps to pose for pictures. Alicent finds red carpets to be draining, if not mildly blinding. Still, she smiles and takes it because it’s her job.

“Over here—over here—a smile? Miss Hightower, can I get a smile?” Alicent hears and she forces one onto her face in the direction of the voice, her nails digging into the fabric of Rhaenyra’s suit. This part is always the worst of it. She much prefers the interview portion where things seem to slow down a bit and there aren’t nearly as many cameras in her face as there are right now.

Rhaenyra shifts, her arm sliding around Alicent’s waist and tugging her close. Alicent’s hand finds her shoulder and she resists the urge to lean too far into her—too far into her safe place where the noise might be lessened. Instead, she just smiles and turns when she’s told before they’re finally able to make their way down the carpet.

“Alicent,” an interviewer calls her name and she turns, regretfully parting from Rhaenyra as she walks over to the interviewer, “Critics are already raving about your performance in this film, and there’s been a lot of Oscar buzz for Sunsetters this year, how’re you feeling about everything?”

“I feel great, truly,” Alicent musters enthusiasm into her voice as well as she can—she is an actress, after all. “This year has been so eventful, both good and bad and I’m so grateful to be reaching the end of it with two beautiful films under my belt. Sunsetters and Unto Devotion are two films that have truly captured my heart and I’m so glad that people are walking away from these films with my name on their lips, it’s an honor, really. And I really do hope people enjoy tonight’s film as much as they did my last one because really it’s fantastic work, Luca is a genius and he manages to bring it out of everyone around him. Yeah, just wonderful.”

“Are you looking forward to seeing your fictional romance opposite Miss Targaryen bloom considering the real-life one seems to be doing brilliantly?” the interviewer asks with a quaint laugh that has Alicent blushing.

She darts a gaze over to Rhaenyra who is now occupied with her own interview and she wishes she could reach out for her, but there’s just a bit too much distance between them. Alicent turns back to the interviewer, piecing her answer together, “I mean, working with Rhaenyra was wonderful and I really am looking forward to seeing the end-product. Working alongside her was without a doubt the best part of my year—right behind falling in love with her, of course.”

Alicent wraps up with that interview before she’s allowed to continue down the carpet. She breezes past Rhaenyra, squeezing her shoulder gently and pressing a kiss to her cheek soft enough to not leave a mark from her makeup, smiling and waving at the interviewer before moving onto the next.

“Miss Hightower, is it true you and your ex-husband are no longer on speaking terms?” is a question that stops her in her tracks. After the magazine spread had come out, questions about Criston had been reduced to almost nothing, but she still gets the occasional one that makes her skin crawl.

She clears her throat and stops, turning around fully so she can speak into the microphone with a concise tone, not nearly as friendly as she was with the last interviewer. “I do think most people who get divorced are no longer on speaking terms with their ex-spouses. We had no children, no dogs, nothing to keep us together in any sense so yes, we no longer speak to each other. I am incredibly happy with my current girlfriend and I am sure he is delighted to be with whatever eighteen-year-old model he has currently forced onto his yacht. Would you like to ask me about the film I’m starring in?”

The interviewer clears his throat, clearly taken aback by the sharpness of her answer as he flips through his notes, looking for a question that won’t piss Alicent off (unlikely). “How was it working with Luca again? This is your second film with him, can we expect more from you two in the future?”

“Wonderful as always, thank you for asking. As of right now, we don’t have any plans, but truthfully I don’t even think Luca knows what his next project is at the moment. I’m currently working on the new Autumn de Wilde film, though, which is delightful,” Alicent answers as politely as she can muster before making an excuse to depart. She can see the doors now and all she needs is Rhaenyra back by her side and then she can finally be free. She’s almost certain Marcie will want her to do more press, but she’ll have to settle for what she can get.

She watches as Rhaenyra finishes up one more carpet interview before she heads back over for Alicent. Her hand finds Alicent’s waist without a word, a stern expression on her face that has Alicent worried. Even so, they’re in front of dozens of cameras and a handful of interviewers so there’s not much she can do about the sinking feeling in her stomach right now.

Once they are inside the doors, though, she wills herself to ask, “Is everything okay?”

Rhaenyra blinks at her, brow furrowed before nodding her head and saying, “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You just seem…” Alicent tilts her head, biting the inside of her cheek as she tries to finds the words, “not yourself.”

Rhaenyra just shrugs, waving her off. “You know how premieres can be. I just get on edge. I forget how overwhelming they can be.”

“Right, of course,” Alicent sighs, intertwining her fingers with Rhaenyra’s and squeezing affectionately. The night will be over soon enough and they’ve already made it through the worst of it. Though, Alicent is certainly looking forward to a drink at the afterparty at this rate, even if it means socializing with people other than her girlfriend.

They take their seats and Marcie settles behind her and hands over her clutch. Alicent thanks her, pulling out her phone to scroll while she waits.

@nyratargs: just saw a picture of rhaenyra and alicent on the red carpet and moaned

@alicentscult: i’m so sick of hearing about that stupid MAN in alicent’s interviews GET A JOB! STAY AWAY FROM HER!

Alicent laughs softly to herself, leaning deeper into Rhaenyra’s side and resting her hand on her thigh. Rhaenyra turns, pressing a kiss to her temple and sighing quietly.

“I love you,” she whispers beneath the thrum of the growing crowd, her lips still pressed against the side of Alicent’s head.

Alicent looks up at her, a gentle smile on her face as she squeezes her thigh affectionately. “I love you, too.”

Something is off and she can’t quite put her finger on it. Rhaenyra seems nervous as if there is something she isn’t telling her. Alicent shouldn’t assume, but, well, things have been almost too perfect lately. She just always thought if something was going to get messed up it would be herself at fault—she can’t imagine Rhaenyra keeping something from her. The lights dim and she is forced to revel in her anxiety without the comfort of Rhaenyra to dispel it. Her hands return to her own lap, crossing one leg over the other as she keeps her eyes focused on the screen. Distantly, she can feel Rhaenyra’s gaze burning a hole in the side of her head. Alicent gulps, keeping her shoulders square and her gaze straight. Whatever it is that’s bothering her will have to come to light eventually. Alicent is sure of it.

The afterparty, despite being more crowded, is much less suffocating than the carpet and premiere itself for which Alicent is grateful. She’s changed into a red minidress but kept the same heels and jewelry, grateful for a little less weight being carried as she stands surrounded by her co-stars with a drink in her hands. She lost Rhaenyra rather quickly after their arrival—the two of them getting swept away in a flurry of congratulations and praise for the film. Alicent is grateful, of course, and always elated in receiving the praise of her peers, but something is still gnawing at her.

“You were brilliant, just astounding,” a journalist she hadn’t caught the name of in all the noise is telling her, “Truly, I don’t know how you manage to have so many career-making performances in your roster. You’re one of the most impressive actresses I’ve seen in recent years.”

“Thank you, truly,” Alicent responds, taking a nervous sip of her champagne as her eyes search for Rhaenyra around the crowded room. “It helps to work with such magnificent directors, I mean, that’s half of the performance it comes from working with them.”

“Speaking of,” the journalist continues, “I was ecstatic to hear that Rhaenyra will be working with Georgia Oakley on her next film. I adored Blue Jean and I’m really excited to see Rhaenyra under her care, especially going back to her London roots—”

“Excuse me?” Alicent asks, a white knuckled grip on her champagne flute so fierce she fears the glass may crack beneath her fingers. “I thought Rhaenyra had signed on for that film set in the valley with—oh, I’m forgetting the director. The one here that was announced a few weeks ago? I wasn’t… aware there had been a change?”

“Truthfully, I’m not supposed to talk about it,” she lowers her voice, eyes darting around the room as if she’s being a horrible gossip, “It’s all being kept rather under wraps, but just last week my sources told me Rhaenyra dropped out of that in exchange for the London film. Spent a pretty penny to break the contract, too. I just thought, you know, as her girlfriend, she’d have told you. I’m sorry, it—it wasn’t my intention to—oh, my friend is over there. Good evening, Miss Hightower.”

With that, Alicent is left alone in a room full of people and her girlfriend noticeably absent. Alicent downs the rest of her champagne with a quick swig. London. Last week. A week Rhaenyra had been sitting on this information and Alicent had been none the wiser. She slams her glass down onto one of the tables, gripping the wood for a moment as she takes a shuddering breath. She needs to find Rhaenyra. They need to talk about this—why Rhaenyra is running away from her.

She catches a sight of short blonde hair and beelines through the crowd, fending off congratulations and praise that all fade to white noise and static in her mind. She can barely hear anything over the buzzing in her brain. Dizziness swarms her and she knows it is not from the champagne. Finally, she catches sight of Rhaenyra, but they can’t do this here.

Her hand latches onto Rhaenyra’s wrist, unceremoniously ripping her away from whoever she was talking to and dragging her out into the hallway. They should go somewhere more private, but Alicent can barely breathe let alone concentrate long enough to find a private place for them to speak.

She crosses her arms, turning away from Rhaenyra as she paces back and forth, trying to think of where to possibly start. She whips back around to face Rhaenyra, strands of her updo coming loose with the intensity of the movement. “When were you going to tell me?”

At Rhaenyra’s confused expression, she sighs, her voice growing in volume, “London, Rhaenyra, when were you going to tell me? You told me you were working in LA that you were going to stay here—you lied to me.”

Realization crosses against her strong features as her expression settles into one of regret. “I was going to tell you, I just—with the premiere and everything was so, it didn’t come up.”

“You didn’t think to tell me before you made the decision?” Alicent asks, stepping forward and watching Rhaenyra back up from her anger. “You didn’t even ask me, you just did it. I’m your—we live together. I thought this was a decision I’d at least be made aware of before it happened, and if not before, then a week later is not the next best time. I had to hear it from some stupid reporter and now I look like an idiot that doesn’t know what the f*ck my girlfriend is up to and—”

“It’s my dad,” Rhaenyra cuts her off, hands shoved in her pockets and her head down. “He’s—he doesn’t have much longer and I know he and I have had our arguments, but he doesn’t have anyone else. I needed to work somewhere I could be close to him. I was going to tell you after the premiere, when things had calmed down a bit, I didn’t want to ruin this for you.”

Alicent steps back with a scoff, running a hand over her face. Tears brim at her eyes and she sees little use in fighting them. “You could have told me the minute you found out. That’s what I am here for, that is my job. This wasn’t something you had to hide from me. Did you—did you think I wouldn’t be able to handle it? That I wouldn’t be able to handle you if you were anything less than perfect? Is that what this is?”

Rhaenyra looks away and Alicent senses she struck a nerve. “Everything was going so well and I love you, Alicent. Sometimes I feel so strongly about you it terrifies me, even now that I have you, I am terrified of losing you and something like this—it’s messy and it’s not what I want and I didn’t know what to do and I should have told you, I’m sorry.”

“Have I not been there for you?” Alicent asks, tears now freely sliding down her cheeks. “Were we not friends first Rhaenyra? I was there when you lost your mother, you were there when I lost mine. Just because we may have changed and what we mean to each other might have changed does not mean this should have been any different. I cannot love you if you do not trust me with every part of yourself, Rhaenyra. I won’t love half of you.”

Rhaenyra sucks in a shuddering breath, tears welling in her eyes. Alicent feels for her, she does. She feels so much for her it hurts when she inhales because all she can feel is not the stabbing pain of betrayal, but the prickling bruise of grief. She knows exactly what Rhaenyra is going through right now—and Rhaenyra knows she knows and yet she kept her arm’s length from it anyway. And that is something Alicent doesn’t know what to do with.

“I’m sorry,” Rhaenyra finally says, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You’re right, of course, you’re right. I just… I didn’t know how and then I waited too long the decision had to be made and so I made it and—I have thought about telling you every day since and I didn’t know how to put it into words. But, listen, it’s—it’s just to get his affairs in order until he goes, I won’t be there for very long after the film is done and then I’ll come home, Alicent, or you could come with me.”

“I can’t—I have a career and films lined up and I can’t just drop everything now—”

“Meet me there, I don’t care, I just want you there as soon as—” Rhaenyra begins, but her sentence falters. “I need you there, Alicent.”

“When do you leave?” Alicent asks, her voice concentrated but she can hear the way it shakes. Every muscle in her body is tense right now as she stares Rhaenyra down.

Rhaenyra sighs before answering in a defeated tone, “Two weeks.”

“Two f*cking weeks.”

“Come with me, Alicent.”

Rhaenyra reaches for Alicent’s hand but she pulls back, turning around so she doesn’t have to face her. Her heels click against the tile, echoing against the empty hallway. She hiccups, more tears spilling down her face as she tries to collect her thoughts as best she can. She doesn’t know what to think.

“I can’t just drop everything, not with my current production, my film after that, awards season. All that in the car, today—you said that knowing you wouldn’t even be there to see me if I won?” She turns back around, disbelief coating her voice as she eyes Rhaenyra up and down. “I’m sorry, Rhaenyra, I really am, but I can’t—I can’t do this right now. Goodnight.”

She turns on her heel and heads for the door, wiping her eyes as she does so, pressing her phone to her ear to tell Marcie to have her car pulled around as soon as human possible. The moment she’s out the door, the cool night air provides no reprieve as the night is clogged with photographers. Photographers that are now watching Alicent leave in a beautiful dress, with tears streaming down her face, and no girlfriend by her side. She puts her hand up to cover her face but she knows it’s no use—the photos will be everywhere by morning.

The car pulls up and Marcie is racing to open the door for her, shielding her from the photographers as best she can. Alicent slides in, slamming the door shut behind her. She gazes out the window and there’s Rhaenyra standing there—tears on her cheeks. Alicent hates it. She hates everything she feels right now, but she needs her space. She needs time to think about this—to grapple with Rhaenyra leaving, leaving her. Without even a proper notice.

The car begins to drive away and with it—she watches Rhaenyra’s image fade.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Los Angeles is lonely again. It’s been raining for about three days straight, putting a damper on Alicent’s filming since the majority of it is on location instead of a sound stage, so now she’s been home—in an empty apartment with no Rhaenyra. She wishes the rain would stop. She craves the distraction of a job, of a routine that will keep her away from lamenting the loss of her relationship in bed with a bottle of wine. She’s back to watching Sex and the City—she’s made it to season four at this point and Big has finally left his wife instead of just cheating on her.

The photos of her leaving the premiere had been spread almost instantly, though outlets had been hesitant to report it as a break-up. Marcie had suggested sending out a statement to press, but Alicent hadn’t known what to say. She and Rhaenyra had, of course, never officially broken up. But now Rhaenyra was in London. And Alicent was here—watching Sex and the City with a glass of wine in her hand. It sure as hell felt like a break-up.

That night, Rhaenyra hadn’t come home. Alicent didn’t know where she went, but she knew Rhaenyra had come back to grab some of her things while Alicent had been on set the next few days. Somehow, the idea of Rhaenyra coming over when she knew Alicent wouldn’t be there hurt more. The fact that Rhaenyra wouldn’t even attempt to orchestrate a chance encounter. She supposes the woman is likely just trying to give Alicent her space after blowing up on her, but it still hit Alicent with a sharp pain of sadness. She had wanted to see her before she went—even if she was pissed at her, she wanted to look at her one more time. But now Rhaenyra is in London.

She hasn’t stopped sharing her location with Alicent—she noticed. Alicent, ashamedly, checks it far too often. For the most part, Rhaenyra has been at her father’s estate, but one night, when Alicent had been out to lunch with Marcie, she checked her phone and saw Rhaenyra at the pub. All she could think about was Rhaenyra alone in a bar, grieving alone. It broke Alicent’s heart almost more than their fight had. She wished she could feel better about the way things had gone, but truthfully, Alicent just feels like sh*t. She misses Rhaenyra more than anything. Alicent finds herself wishing she had more friends that resided in Los Angeles because dealing with a break-up alone is crushing her.

There’s a knock on her door and Alicent startles, her wine nearly sloshing out of her glass as her shoulders shake. She wipes her eyes and shakes herself from her dissociative state and heads for the door. For a moment, she wonders if it might be Rhaenyra, but she checked her location not too long ago. Still at her father’s estate.

Alicent runs a hand through her messy hair in a vain attempt to make herself presentable before she heads for the door. With a shaking hand gripping the door knob, she finds three people standing there—Marcie, Harwin, and Mysaria. Mysaria who is supposed to be in London working, but is now standing in her doorway in Los Angeles.

“I—hello?” Alicent asks, eyes widening as she realizes she must be in for some sort of intervention.

“Hi, darling,” Mysaria steps forward first, grabbing Alicent in a fierce hug. Alicent tenses at first before melting against her, grateful for the physical affection from another person that she’s been horrendously lacking for the last three weeks. “Marcie mentioned you’ve been wallowing in your apartment in between call times and I thought a visit was long overdue.”

When Alicent lets go of her, she opens her door so all three of them can step in. She looks an absolute mess—still in the sweats she slept in this morning and it’s certainly been hours since she last ran a hairbrush through her long auburn locks, but no one says anything when they see the state she’s in, so she’s grateful.

“I don’t need—I’m fine,” Alicent reasons, heading into the kitchen as she is now kicked into hostess mode. “Can I get you guys something to drink?”

“Water,” Harwin answers with a soft smile, “And you should probably drink some of that yourself. You look like sh*t, Hightower.”

She scoffs, the only sound that fills the kitchen for a moment being the pounding of the rain against her windows. “Thanks, Harwin. You know, I don’t think one movie together means you get to talk to me like that.”

“We’ve known each other long enough,” he scoffs, reaching for the glass of water she hands him. “Besides, Marcie told us to be brutally honest with you.”

“So this is an intervention,” Alicent sighs, turning to face Marcie who just shrugs. “I don’t need to be babysat. I’m an adult woman going through a break-up, this is not nearly as bad as the literal divorce I dealt with last year. I will get through this, I just need to… linger in it for a bit.”

Mysaria sighs, reaching to grasp where Alicent’s hand is resting on the kitchen counter. “She’s worried sick about you.”

“Have you talked to her?” Alicent asks, lifting her head as her voice fills with a sickening amount of hope.

“Why do you think I hopped on a plane?” she asks with a sad laugh, squeezing Alicent’s hand affectionately. “She texted me when she got to London and we met for a drink, she told me the whole story. The thing she wanted most was to make sure you were taken care of, so I got your LA people together and took some matters into my own hand.”

The thought of Rhaenyra lamenting over their relationship saddens her—it reminds her all too well of the falling out they had ten years ago. Rhaenyra spent a decade blaming herself entirely. Alicent can't do another ten years. She shouldn't have blown up on Rhaenyra the way she did, but she was overwhelmed and hurt and next thing she knew she was saying things she would never consider beneath the light of day. That hurt is still there, just calmer now; a tired animal in the nest of her ribs. And the worst part of it all is that Rhaenyra is across the ocean, worried about her.

Alicent looks to Marcie with narrowed eyes, “I can't believe you three were operating behind my back.”

“It was out of love,” Harwin assures, clapping a hand on her shoulder with the aggression of an older brother. God, she should give Gwayne a call. He’s been far too busy with his firm in London to care about Alicent’s silly relationship problems, though. “Most people don’t have their break-up blasted across the front page of a magazine. I think it’s worth checking up on you.”

“I appreciate it, I do, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, it’s just—” Alicent sighs, walking over to the couch with her glass of wine as her friends follow her. She slumps down, practically trying to disappear into the cushions. “With Criston, it was easy. I never quite liked him and could never put my finger on why, granted I finally figured that one out, but now, I don’t know how to deal with a break-up when it’s real. And truthfully, it doesn’t even feel like it’s over. I mean, I never said the words and neither did she, we’re just in a stalemate right now and I have no clue what to do.”

Mysaria leans up against Alicent, forcing her out of her corner by way of wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Well, you could call her? I know she wants to talk to you, she’s just scared of not giving you enough space and of course, the stuff with her dad is—”

“That’s another thing! Her father is dying and now I’ve gone and made it about me—”

“You asked to be considered, that’s not the same thing, Alicent,” Mysaria adds with a slight shake of the head. “You’ve known each other for like fifteen years, you’d been dating for months, it was a reasonable ask to be included in such an important decision. Both of you know that.”

“I just hate that I had to ask to be considered,” Alicent grumbles to herself, tucking her legs up and resting her chin on her knees. “I want to be there for her more than anything, but I feel like she’s put this… this barrier up between us. And I know she didn’t mean to, but that’s how it is and now I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t even know where she thinks we stand.”

“You could start by giving her a call,” Marcie suggests, propped up on the armrest. “I’ve been squashing any rumors of a legitimate break-up and we’re kind of just insinuating it was a teary goodbye since Rhaenyra’s leaving. People are sort of buying it. But just say the word and I’ll run whatever you want me to run. It’ll get taken care of.”

Alicent doesn’t move, just shifting her eyes over to where Marcie is sitting. “Sometimes I think becoming famous was a mistake.”

“It does feel that way sometimes, doesn’t it, yeah?” Harwin speaks up with a sympathetic look in his eyes. “But unfortunately, relationships get f*cked up whether or not you have the whole world watching. Now, at least, you have the money to fly to London at a moment’s notice for a grand romantic gesture if at any point you might need to.”

“I have a month and a half left of filming, but I’ll keep that in mind,” she huffs, a humorless chuckle falling from her lips. “It’s strange. So much has changed and yet I feel like we’re right back where we started. One miscommunication and we didn’t talk for ten years. I wonder what will happen now.”

“What will happen,” Mysaria begins, leaning in and squeezing Alicent tighter, “is you two are going to work it out like adults because now you know how you feel about each other and can figure out what to do with it. It’s not like before, Alicent, I promise you.”

Alicent sighs. She knows the easiest way to handle this is to just pick up the phone and call Rhaenyra, but every time she’s tried, she just stares at the woman’s contact and can’t bring herself to hit the button. She feels like it was a few months ago when Marcie was telling her to call Rhaenyra ahead of filming—to build a bridge over the chasm formed by the decade between them. Somehow, that had been less daunting than this. She stares at the episode playing on a low volume in front of her. Rhaenyra thinks she wants space. She doesn’t want space. She wants her girlfriend beside her in bed here. But she can’t have that. She can’t even ask for it.

“I’ll call her eventually, I just need—” she isn’t sure what she needs. Eventually, she just groans, bringing her hands to hide her face. “I just wish she was here. But she can’t and I understand that she can’t. I’m just having a little trouble coming to terms with that.”

Alicent was used to being alone. Before Rhaenyra, being married to Criston was the loneliest she had ever been. Things between them were cold and unfeeling. They were better after the divorce—Alicent became comfortable in her loneliness. She enjoyed nights with a bottle of wine and her favorite TV show, she would occasionally go out to the bar with co-stars (though, this led to an odd amount of rumors about her dating Harwin), she would call her brother every so often. The apartment hadn’t felt too large because it was hers. But then the apartment became theirs. And now all Alicent can do is feel the gap left behind by Rhaenyra. All she can do is replay the conversation they had over and over again.

“That’s alright, then,” Mysaria says, “You don’t have to worry about it right this minute, it’s far too early over there anyway. Why don’t we just hang out and watch some TV with you, hm?”

Alicent groans, “I don’t need to be watched, I promise you guys I am fine. My wine and TV nights were established long before I fought with Rhaenyra. I will call her soon, I just need to think of what to say and that—that is the hardest thing in the world right now.”

“Do you want us to leave then?” Marcie asks, reaching out and rubbing Alicent’s arm affectionately.

She thinks of her apartment being empty and quiet again. A giant place with just her and a bottle of wine. Just the thought of it makes her want to cry. Alicent sighs, shaking her head. The moment she does this, everyone settles onto the couch with her while Harwin reaches for the remote to turn the TV back up. She nestles into the space Mysaria has created beside her and embraces the warmth that comes with it. It’s not the same as having Rhaenyra’s arms around her, but it’ll have to do for now.

The rain lets up the next day and Alicent finds herself back to work—something she’s immensely grateful for. Doing back-to-back films is normally hell for her, but she’s relieved to have a distraction considering everything with Rhaenyra. A sixteen hour day is nothing compared to sitting at home all afternoon trying to figure out just what the hell she’s supposed to say to the girlfriend she shunned a few weeks ago. She can’t help but feel guilty for putting the emotions of their separation onto Rhaenyra at the same time she’s dealing with her dying father. She let the pain of Rhaenyra making the decision to leave without her blind her, make her selfish. She knows she’s allowed to be upset over the omission, but the guilt is still just as strong.

She’s just gotten off of set for the day when she feels her phone buzz in her back pocket. For a moment, she thinks Rhaenyra might be calling her, but when she looks, it’s just a Twitter notification. Alicent sighs, clicking her phone shut and stepping into the back of the car she’d called to take home.

Pulling her phone back out, she checks the previous notification with a sigh.

‘@FilmUpdates: Rhaenyra Targaryen on the set of untitled Georgia Oakley film in London’

Looking at the photo, Alicent manages to feel worse than she already does. Rhaenyra’s silver blonde hair is styled like a 90s heartthrob and she’s dressed in vintage clothing, something Alicent notes means the film is likely going to be a period piece like Oakley’s previous film which was set in the 80s. She looks fantastic, even if she’s clearly designed to look a little worse for wear—with emphasized eyebags and a spattering of fake freckles across her nose, layering on top of the faint ones she already has. Alicent zooms in on the picture even as the quality worsens, searching for more and more details on the woman she loves. God, she doesn’t think she’s ever been so heartsick. The last time she felt this terrible was ten years ago when she had accepted Criston’s proposal mere days after sleeping with Rhaenyra for the first time.

She saves the picture to her phone, teeth worrying at her bottom lip as she scrolls through the timeline, even though she knows she shouldn’t.

‘@venicebetsh: this paired with the photo of alicent filming in la makes me feel like a child of divorce

— @ancientlovesong: ok but did they actually break up? i cant find a straight answer anywhere

— @berzatto: it sure as sh*t looked like they did after the premiere but they’re being quiet about it if true’

Were they broken up? Alicent figures if she has to ask then the answer is probably no, but it still feels as if they are. Alicent had said she couldn’t do this right now, she never ended things entirely. Not that she even wants to. That is, in fact, the absolute last thing she wants. She groans. She knows what she has to do.

Alicent swipes out of Twitter and over to Rhaenyra’s contact. Her finger hovers for a moment, unsure whether to proceed or not. Before she can get too in her head about it, she hits the number and presses her phone to her ear, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. It rings for a while and for a moment she thinks Rhaenyra won’t answer once she sees who’s calling.

“Hello?” Rhaenyra’s voice is rough, like she’s just woken and Alicent curses silently to herself for not remembering the time zone difference. It’s the evening for Alicent now so it must be the middle of the night for Rhaenyra.

“Hi,” Alicent begins, not knowing what to do now that she’s here. “Mysaria told me you were unsure if I wanted to hear from you or not and I… I wanted to call you to tell you that I do. Want to hear from you, that is.”

“Hi, darling,” Rhaenyra’s voice warms the moment she hears Alicent on the other line and Alicent’s heart does somersaults in her chest. She has half a mind just to fly to London right now and say whatever she needs to ensure she and Rhaenyra are properly made up as soon as possible. “Mysaria was not supposed to tell you I sent her, it makes me sound proper pathetic.”

Alicent sighs, leaning against the side of the car as she watches the sights of Los Angeles pass by in a blur outside her window. “I like that you’re proper pathetic over me, terrible as it is to say. I know you, though, and I don’t—don’t be guilty over this, please. I had no right to blow up on you over that, not with your dad—”

“Alicent, Alicent,” Rhaenyra stops her and Alicent begins to realize she was rambling. “It’s four in the morning and as much as I love you and want to have this conversation, I can’t right now. If I can’t feel guilty, then you can’t either, okay? You’re allowed to be upset and I understand why you are. Let’s just leave it at that for now, yeah?”

Alicent sighs, feeling bad for having woken her. She hadn’t even been thinking about time zones, all she had thought about was how desperately she needed to hear Rhaenyra’s voice. As much as I love you, Rhaenyra had said. She hadn’t realized just how badly she missed hearing her say those words until she had them in her ear again. Alicent craves the comfort of Rhaenyra—she wants to hear those words breathed against her ear as they wake up tangled in one another, ready to start a new day. But right now, she’s going to try and take what she can get with little complaint.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” she mutters, playing with a loose thread hanging off her sleeve as she talks. “I guess I’m not used to the time difference quite yet.”

“That’s alright, I’m just glad you called,” Rhaenyra tells her with a gentle chuckle, still gruff and tired. “Thank you for calling. I missed your voice.”

“I missed yours, too,” Alicent admits with a breath sigh, ripping the thread off. “I’ll let you get your rest now, I suppose. We’ll talk soon, though, yeah?”

“Soon,” Rhaenyra affirms. With that confirmation, Alicent feels as if a weight she’s been carrying for the last three weeks has been lifted off of her shoulders. Not entirely, as the sadness nestled in the crook of her ribs has not quite ebbed away into nonexistence, but enough that to hold it up is not unbearable. She can survive this. They will survive this. And right now, that knowledge is going to have to be enough.

After a moment of tense silence across the shared line, Alicent relents. “All right, then, I’ll let you get back to sleep. Good night.”

“I love you, Alicent,” Rhaenyra re-affirms. She sounds scared, her voice wavering slightly as if she is afraid Alicent won’t say it back to her. That slight crack, the quietest of uncertainties in her voice, breaks Alicent’s heart more than anything that happened the night they fought. The fact that somewhere in the back of her mind, Rhaenyra thinks Alicent would be able to stop loving her. Alicent doesn’t think she could stop loving Rhaenyra if she tried.

“I love you, too, Rhaenyra,” Alicent tells her and it feels good to say it out loud again after living in sudden solitude for the last three weeks. For a moment, it feels as if things are almost back to normal. Except for the glaring issue that Rhaenyra is there and Alicent is here. That reminder makes her downright miserable. The car pulls up outside of her apartment and she sighs.

Rhaenyra bids her good night and hangs up the phone. Alicent sits with the silence for a moment, the device still pressed up against her ear as she struggles with the lack of closure. She understands why they can’t talk now—it’s perfectly logical to want to be properly awake when resolving an issue with one’s girlfriend, Alicent just isn’t sure how much longer she wants to wait. She gnaws at her bottom lip as she gets out of the car, thanking her driver absentmindedly before heading up to her (cold, empty) apartment.

Once upstairs, she drops her purse on the counter with a weary sigh. Alone again. A phone call won’t be enough. Even if she and Rhaenyra talk, it won’t change the fact that they’re still going to be an ocean apart. She tries not to dwell on it. She’d started off the year alone—Rhaenyra had left just before Christmas, though Alicent had never been a huge fan of the holiday after the death of her mother anyway, but ringing in the new year alone had been daunting. She had so been looking forward to celebrating, to kissing Rhaenyra at midnight. Now, here she was halfway through January, with her girlfriend on another continent. Alicent sighs, heading to the living room to turn on the TV, starting up the last Sex and the City episode she’d been in the middle of, just like she’s ended her evenings every other night this week.

Things’ll get better eventually. They have to.

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

They don’t schedule a time to talk. They don’t even text. Things go back to radio silence. Strangely, she’s relieved. Alicent wraps filming for a period drama she’s sure her heart wasn’t in. The script was fine and working with the director was easy enough, but it all passed like a blur in Alicent’s head. There were times in her career where it felt like a job more than anything else. Days just passing by. It’s not an overly negative thing, just simply the way it is. Maybe it was doing three films back-to-back that made her feel like this—her bones jelly, barely able to stay up past eleven most nights. Either way, she’s enjoying her rest time. Mysaria flew back to London and Alicent wonders distantly if she’ll meet up with Rhaenyra while she’s there—if they’ll talk about Alicent (of course, they’ll talk about Alicent) or if they’ll just talk about Viserys’s ailing health and his reliance on his only daughter. Alicent tries to push thoughts of Rhaenyra to the very furthest part of her mind. She should have reached out, but whatever courage that compelled her to call Rhaenyra the first time has utterly abandoned her.

Alicent showers in the morning, late winter sun streaming in through her window as she wraps herself in a bathrobe, covering her mouth as she yawns, stepping into the kitchen with wet hair still dripping onto the soft fabric cloaking her. She’s up late—a luxury she revels in when she is in between films. It’s still early in London, meaning the possibility of calling Rhaenyra isn’t off the table. The weeks without hearing from her have been worrisome—both as an (ex-?)girlfriend and as simply her friend, but selfishly in the back of her mind, Alicent has enjoyed the quiet. Maybe that’s wrong of her to say considering her potentially ex-girlfriend is across the ocean caring for her dying father, but their fight had been such an explosion. Alicent couldn’t remember the last time she let herself feel anger like that, be upset like that. Things with Criston had been such a… quiet end. She was not used to the bang of a hasty break-up, only the resignation of the end.

She opens her phone and scrolls through her notifications, catching an email from her agent—Sending over a script I think you’ll love. Woman leaves her husband to be a stand-up comedian! Very Marvelous Ms. Maisel but NINETIES! How fun. Female love interest, but no cast for her yet. Indie director’s first feature, but I’ll link you some of her short films. Look it over!

The thought of her next film is a daunting, though necessary one. At the very least, she’ll do something fun. She stars the email and adds it to her favorites, making a mental note to look over the script later. Reading for a new role wouldn’t hurt—chances are filming wouldn’t even start for months, though a glance tells her this one is set in New York and might film there. She wouldn’t mind a change of scenery—it’s been forever since she stayed at her small Brooklyn brownstone she used to love so much. Maybe that’s it. Maybe she just needs to get the f*ck out of LA. She doesn’t need some frilly vacation, just needs to be home.

(A place Rhaenyra hasn’t touched).

She shakes that thought out of her head, true as it may be. Rhaenyra’s ghost is imprinted all over the apartment. It’s not her fault—Alicent was the one that asked her to move in. She had been so consumed by the need to be around Rhaenyra all the time. She doesn’t know why she’s talking about Rhaenyra like their relationship is entirely through. Isn’t it, though? Maybe she should call Rhaenyra and say they need to break it off for real—before one of them gets more hurt than they already were. Their fight combined with the distance combined with the silence is surely a turn for the worse. Yet, Alicent can’t bring herself to be the one to do it. Maybe she’s weak in that sense, but she does still love Rhaenyra. She does still want her, she just knows now isn’t the time for her to ask for it. So, she wants to push her away. Maybe she should give her old therapist a call.

Alicent scrolls out of her emails, switching over to her assistant’s contact and sending a text—Going to stay in NY for a bit, look for a flight leaving ASAP. Also, can you see if my old NYC therapist is still in network? Thx.

That feels like a step in the right direction. She had started seeing a therapist right when she first went no contact with her father—she needed someone to tell her that she had made the right decision. Alicent had meant to find a new one when she moved to LA but she never got around to it. She doesn’t get around to a lot of things (—like calling Rhaenyra). Her assistant likes the text and Alicent prays she’ll respond with flight information. She sighs, tossing her phone down onto the kitchen counter before heading back into her room to get dressed for the day—which, for a day off, is old gray sweats and a tank top.

Back in the kitchen, she brews coffee. Her phone is still glaring holes in the back of her head, begging her to call. She’s not going to. Maybe space will do the two of them good. Rhaenyra needs to spend time with her father, Alicent shouldn’t bother her with petty relationship drama. It would be rude. That is totally the only reason she isn’t calling. Absolutely.

By the time her coffee pot is done, she has a text with flight information for a red eye to New York. Alicent hums thoughtfully to herself, staring at her list of messages. One from Marcie, the preview reading something about a set photo from her latest film blowing up on Twitter (the people love it!—she can already hear it in Marcie’s voice), one from Harwin checking in on her, but nothing from anyone else. She should feel more pathetic, maybe, given her friends felt the need to babysit her last time she saw them (still something she deemed unnecessary) but for the first time in a while she feels strangely… fine. Good, even. Maybe this is a bad way to feel when she is on the outs with her first girlfriend. This is why she’s calling her therapist the moment she touches down in New York.

She scrolls through her contacts, scrolling past Rhaenyra’s with a sigh. Instead, she hovers over to where her blocked numbers are stored. She shouldn’t, but she feels like there’s so much she needs to get off her chest.

“Hello?” Criston’s voice rings through the phone, riddled with confusion which Alicent can’t blame him for considering his ex-wife is calling him on a random Tuesday afternoon.

“Look, I’m going to level with you because even though the rest of the world might think you’re my evil ex-husband and I know the truth, which is that you don’t think things through enough to be evil—”

“If you’re just going to insult me, I’m going to hang up.”

Alicent sighs. “I’m not just going to insult you. I just… we never had a chance to talk about everything.”

“With Rhaenyra.”

“With Rhaenyra,” Alicent affirms. She twists a lock of her hair between her fingers absentmindedly as she leans against the kitchen counter. “I feel… I owe you the truth because at one point, though it pains me to admit this, you were not a terrible husband.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” she mutters softly, feeling her heart racing in her chest. “I need to know nothing I tell you now is going to make its way into any tell-all or tabloid or anything, please? I won’t hesitate to slap you with a gag order if I think I can’t trust you, but—we were friends once, right? We must have been. You used to like me.”

Criston is quiet for a long moment and she would think he had hung up if not for his steady breathing over the other line. “Your secrets are safe, Alicent, I know you wouldn’t call me if it wasn’t serious, so. Unless there’s a dead body you two hid together because then I’m going to the police.”

“No, no dead bodies,” she chuckles softly, a small smile almost finding its way onto your face. “I just figured I owe you a bit of an explanation. The divorce came out of nowhere and then I pop out with a woman and I’m sure it was confusing for you. The truth is, Rhaenyra and I did have an affair, just not when you think we did.”

Criston is silent, so she takes it as a sign to continue. “The week before you proposed, something happened and she and I… we slept together. Just the one time, I can at least promise you that, and I was going to tell you, I was going to break things off, but I had no clue what it meant—me and her—because that was never a possibility I considered for myself. You knew how my father was to me, the sorts of ideas and raging Catholic guilt he instilled in me, I convinced myself that sleeping with Rhaenyra was the worst thing I could have ever done and then when you proposed… I saw that as my opportunity for some sort of f*cked up forgiveness. If I could be the perfect wife, your perfect wife, then nothing I felt about her would have mattered. But then, things with us became… the way they were and the dissatisfaction just ate at me. You were never really an astounding husband, but I don’t think I ever really tried either, not for a while, at least. And—I’m rambling, but this is, I suppose, an apology. For what happened ten years ago. But I won’t apologize for leaving and I won’t apologize for falling in love with her.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Criston eventually says with a tense sigh. “I always knew there was something going on between you two, I just didn’t consider that you might not have picked up on it. She always only ever had eyes for you, it’s why she hated me so much.”

“I can think of a few reasons she hated you so much,” Alicent scoffs—Rhaenyra often complained about many of Criston’s behaviors. He would leave crumbs on the couch, never use a coaster, the list went on. But Alicent won’t delve into it right now, she’s probably scarred Criston enough. “But I wanted you to know that she wasn’t the reason our marriage ended—we were. It was never going to work, I don’t think… I don’t like men like that. I was just subconsciously pretending and you were there and—yeah. This is a sh*tty apology, but we had a sh*tty marriage so it feels applicable. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Criston catches her off guard. “I was bitter… still am, but that’s whatever. I’m glad you told me the truth, though, after all this time. Let’s… let’s not talk again.”

“Yeah,” Alicent says. There’s nothing more to say after that so she hangs up, listening to the resounding click and setting her phone down on the counter. She wipes a stray tear from her eyes and breathes in deeply, shaking the feeling off. The burden on her shoulders feels lighter now, no more secrets buried deep between her ribs. Maybe calling Criston was the wrong thing to do, but now the voice nagging in the back of her mind is smaller, quieter now.

Alicent stands there, drumming her fingers on the counter. Criston is done. Behind her now, for good. No more sh*tty tabloids or affair rumors or payphone calls. It’s done. And that might be the best thing that’s happened to her all year. She bites her lip. She needs to pack.

January in New York will be a sharp contrast to the sparse rainy days of LA, so she packs her coats first, though most of her winter clothes are still up there—and she can always buy more if they’re having issues fitting. She packs her favorite pairs of boots and some of her best jeans and then her hand skirts across a sweatshirt left behind by Rhaenyra. Alicent gasps softly, running her fingers across the soft fabric. She picks it up and brings it close to her face. Still smells like her. She knows she should leave it here, but something compels her to throw it in her bag anyway. It’s too soft to abandon. And she misses Rhaenyra, dreadfully. That much she knows won’t change. It hasn’t changed in the last ten years. It doesn’t matter, her missing Rhaenyra won’t change things. Besides, she has a flight to catch.

Two flights later, she finds herself stepping into a waking-up New York City at seven in the morning. She hardly slept on the plane—mostly just watching the old rom-coms provided in flight, which only, of course, made her more sad, but she did it to herself. Her brownstone is thirty minutes out from the airport and the subway won’t go directly to Brooklyn from there, so she settles for a cab because her mind is far too tired to navigate the maps of AirTrains and subway systems right now. Outside of JFK, with her bags tucked beside her, she lights a cigarette and watches the lights sparkle against the rising sun.

New York is where celebrities go to be left alone—many people know this. Even in her rise to fame, no one ever bothered her here. Maybe they would now, she was certainly more famous than she was last time she was here, but so far, no one even spares a passing glance in her direction. She hails a cab after she stamps out her cigarette and a driver stops quickly, getting out to help her with her bags to which she thanks him profusely. She gives him the address as she settles into the backseat, shoving one headphone in and resting her head against the window, watching the sights pass by.

She must have dozed off in the cab ride because she wakes to the jolting of the car stopping, pulling up slowly in front of her brownstone. The driver gets out to grab her bags once more and she throws in a little extra cash for her fare because of it, not letting him help her further than the curb as she herself hauls her bags up the stairs to her door.

The brownstone is quiet—stale with the air of being empty for a while and she pities it for being neglected for so long. It had been her first home in the states, and once she bought it properly, she could never bring herself to get rid of it. She smiles, dropping her bags in the hallway and feeling the tension leave her body almost the moment she’s over the threshold.

When she checks her phone, she sees her assistant texted her with updated contact information for her therapist’s new office and she breathes a sigh of relief. Alicent presses her phone to her ear, grabbing her bags and hauling them up the stairs. The office isn’t quite open yet so she leaves a voicemail, “Hey, Julia, it’s Alicent Hightower. I’m back in the city for a bit and I’d love to schedule a meeting with you when you have an opening. Hope to hear from you soon, thanks.”

She breathes a sigh of relief afterwards—another weight gone. Once up the stairs, she heaves her bags down by the door. Running a hand through her hair, she dives into the linen closet and pulls out some sheets and begins making the bed. Though, at this rate, she would probably just fall asleep on the bare mattress with how tired she is. Still, she does what she knows she should and makes the bed nicely enough for her to fall into it—even with sunlight streaming in through the windows. She’s so exhausted it hardly bothers her.

Tossing her phone to the side, she relishes in the feeling of true solitude—no ghosts haunting the corners of her apartments, no friends banging down her door, just complete, unadulterated peace. Alicent falls asleep quickly and without struggle.

She wakes up to moonlight slivers cast over her, a yawn escaping her lips as she rubs sleep from her eyes. Her sleep schedule will have to fix itself later, but she’s up now so she supposes she may as well do something with herself. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she contemplates before an idea pops into her mind.

Getting up, she begins to sort through her bags, pulling on a proper pair of jeans in lieu of the sweats she’s donned all day, and searching through her closet for a black long sleeve with a high boat neck and no back. She runs a brush through her hair, letting the curls fall loosely down her back before shoving on her coat and black boots to match her top. Alicent is going to go out. On her own. Not with Rhaenyra, not for the sake of some cast party, and not with a husband. She’s going to the bar and she’s going to have a good time. Lord knows it’s been a while since she had some honest fun.

Heading down the stairs, she grabs her bag and tosses it over her shoulder before heading out the door. It hasn’t snowed today, but the sidewalks and roads are still wet with the reminder of it. It must have snowed earlier in the week—Alicent finds herself looking forward to the next time it storms. It’s been so long since she was anywhere during a snowstorm. She used to love them in London, she loved walking through the streets early after a fresh snow when everything was muffled and nothing had dirtied the white powder yet.

She heads down the sidewalk in search of the subway station, feeling rejuvenated and properly awake for the first time in days. Her phone tells her it’s barely eight, which means the bars probably won’t be too busy. She knows where she wants to go, though—she wants to try something. When she gets down the steps into the subway station, she double checks where she’s going and finds her train. It’ll be about forty minutes on the subway, but it’s cheaper than a taxi so she’ll take it.

The Cubbyhole bar is not one she’s ever step foot in, though she’s often heard about it. Maybe she’s a bit too old to be perusing lesbian bars in New York City, but she’s trying to make up for lost time. She steps inside, relishing in the warmth of the bar in its sharp contrast from the freezing temperatures outside, checking her coat with a smile towards the attendant before walking over towards the bar.

Alicent orders a simple martini and settles down on a barstool, relishing in the small crowd tonight. A soft rock song plays over the speakers—she thinks it might be Siouxsie and the Banshees, but she isn’t quite sure—as she takes her first sip. Her phone is shoved into her back pocket though she feels no need to check it for once. Marcie would probably be proud.

“I’ve seen you somewhere,” a voice interrupts her solitude and Alicent turns to see a woman sliding onto the stool next to her. She’s tall with dark blonde hair, cut to her shoulders with rough, shaggy bangs framing her face and ghosting over her forehead. She’s got a septum piercing and Alicent can see a handful of tattoos peeking out beneath her sleeves. She’s beautiful, to say the least.

“I just have one of those faces,” Alicent muses, taking a sip of her drink as she turns to face the woman. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Sarah,” the woman—Sarah, holds out her hand.

Alicent shakes it, introducing herself, “Alicent.”

Her face scrunches up in recognition and Alicent almost regrets giving her real name, but it’s too late to take it back now. “Oh, that’s where I know you from. You’re the girl from the movies. What’re you doing in a joint like this?”

Alicent shrugs, looking around at the cozy interior. “I don’t know, it seems quite nice.”

“So,” Sarah begins, leaning her head on her palm as she looks over at Alicent with wide eyes, “What bring a dazzling actress to the city? Don’t you have the Oscar’s to catch or something?”

“Nominations aren’t out yet, so no,” Alicent retorts with a soft chuckle, brushing a lock of stray hair behind her ear as she talks, feeling a slight blush rise to her cheeks. “I just wrapped a project and wanted to get away for a bit. I have a home here that I don’t see nearly as often as I should, so… here I am.”

“And thank God for that,” she says, biting her lip slightly. “I know you already have a drink, but please let me buy you one?”

This time, Alicent blushes fully. It feels strange to be flirted with—picked up in a bar by someone who isn’t Rhaenyra. And yet, in a way, it feels kind of nice. To know that she can be desired by other women, that the world does not start and end with Rhaenyra. Her mind flashes back briefly to the club in Italy, the kiss she shared with Beniamina (and the things that it had led to after the fact). She finds herself leaning in slightly, the toe of her boot hooking briefly beneath the ring around the barstool, just off the ground.

“Sure, but only because you asked so nicely,” Alicent sighs, gulping down the last slightly too large sip of her drink before placing the glass gently against the bar, pushing it back so the bartender knows she can grab it. “I’d have come to this bar sooner if I knew the company was so lovely.”

Sarah laughs, ordering drinks for the both of them with a smile before turning to her and asking, “Weren’t you dating that one chick? Another actress, right?”

“I—yeah,” Alicent stutters at the question, an answer tumbling from her lips haphazardly. “We were—are? I’m unsure, frankly. We haven’t… spoken in some time.”

“Usually not a good sign,” Sarah says with a grimace, though there is humor and sympathy laced in her easy expression. She hands Alicent her drink with a slight grin, sliding it over to her. She watches the liquor wobble in the glass. “But, hey, with lesbians, anything is possible. Do you want it to be over?”

Alicent thinks on it for a moment. “I think things would be easier if it was. But I don’t think I want them to be, no. Sorry, I probably should have mentioned I was technically taken before I let you buy me a drink. I should be the one doing the buying anyway—I’ve just got my royalty checks.”

Sarah just waves her off with a grin, a warm chuckle falling from her mouth as she shakes her head. “No, any girl going through her first lesbian break-up, or not-break up—fingers crossed—could use a free drink. Probably every woman in this room has been there and it sucks.”

She huffs out a sharp laugh, nodding swiftly. “Yes, it absolutely f*cking sucks.”

“Well—” Sarah turns around, as if noticing something in the back corner of the bar, “I should probably get back to my friends. But take my number, you know, if you ever need a friend in New York.”

Alicent nods, holding out her phone because a friend—especially a friend who knows nothing about her, nothing of her history or who she’s been before now—sounds absolutely wonderful. She watches as Sarah types in her number and hands her phone back, grabbing her drink before sliding off of her barstool. “Oh, and word of advice, if you don’t want things to be over—maybe tell her that.”

She huffs slightly, nodding. “Yeah, I’ll keep that one in mind. Thank you for the drink.”

“Any time. I’ll keep an eye out for your name when those Oscar noms drop.”

With that, Sarah walks back over to a group of women in the corner, shaking her head softly with a laugh as she approaches them. She feels a soft pang in her heart for not being what she wanted, but Alicent can’t help it. She’s eternally tethered to Rhaenyra, this much she’s beginning to realize. Sarah is right though, she should tell her how she feels or else nothing will ever change. Alicent takes another hefty sip of her martini, feeling the sting of gin down her throat. She knows what she needs to do. And it starts with a phone call. A phone call that won’t be made right now, but soon. And that’s enough for now.

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Is an oscar nominated actress still free for lunch today? Alicent stares at the text from Sarah with wide eyes. She had woken up late—approximately two minutes ago—and had blindly reached for her phone on the nightstand and that was the very first message for her to see. It’s been a couple of weeks since Alicent first met Sarah and the two of them had been texting back and forth and before Alicent knew it lunch plans for this afternoon had been made. Only now, it seems, plans have changed.

She scrolls through the rest of her notifications in stunned silence—several missed calls from Marcie, a couple from Harwin, a voicemail from Luca and one from Rhaenyra. No voicemail left behind, just the single notification of a missed call. Alicent just stares at it. She knows she should call back—this is the break in the storm she’s been waiting for. She’d done all she could and the ball was in Rhaenyra’s court only now, now it was in hers. And Alicent can’t think.

Alicent calls Marcie first, pressing the phone to her ear as she listens to the dial tone, just waiting for her to pick up. Marcie picks up almost a moment, practically screaming in her ear, “How the hell did you sleep through Oscar nom announcements?”

“Blame my therapist, she gave me stuff to help with my sleeping,” Alicent groaned, flopping back against her bed and pressing a warm hand to her forehead. She closes her eyes harshly as if trying to will away the exhaustion lacing her bones. “Tell me it’s not true, Marcie.”

“You, Alicent Hightower, are nominated for Best Actress in a Leading Role for this year’s Oscars,” Marcie tells her, her voice barely containing the excitement as she squeals into the phone. Alicent forces herself to sit up, a breathy laugh of shock and excitement falling from her lips as the news settles within her.

“I got nominated—Marcie. An Oscar,” Alicent breathes out, running a hand through her hair as she can hardly believe it. She knew Sunsetters was a good film—she felt it with her heart and soul the entire time they were making it and the premiere only reinforced it. She had expected a Best Picture, maybe even a nomination for Luca himself, for Harwin, but her? That was something she had hardly considered at all. Even as she says the words out loud, they don’t feel real. “Look, Marcie, I have some other calls to make, but I—thank you. I’d be nowhere without you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, save that for when you win,” she remarks with a laugh before hanging up the phone and leaving Alicent in her solitude. She drops her phone in her lap as she holds her face in her hands, a disjointed laugh falling from her lips. Alicent runs her hands nervously through her sleep-swept hair, a heady sigh releasing. She has so many phone calls to return right now it is not even funny.

Her eyes dart to the clock and she decides to text Sarah back, telling her an oscar nominated actress is still on for lunch. She shoots texts off to Harwin and Luca thanking them for their kind words—and congratulating Luca on his own nominations before forcing herself to get out of bed before she’s late for her plans. The missed phone call from Rhaenyra is still glaring at her from her notifications as she gets dressed. There’s still snow on the ground so she settles for jeans and a turtleneck sweater, grabbing her peacoat from the hanger by the door and shoving boots onto her feet. Her phone burns a hole in her back pocket as she speed walks towards the subway entrance, desperate to get out of the cold as soon as she can.

Rhaenyra only called once. No voicemail. If she left a voicemail, Alicent would know everything she needed to say and then there would be no need to call her back. Alicent knows this because she would do the same thing to bait Rhaenyra into calling her back—Hell, she did do the same thing almost a year ago now except that time the gap between them had been ten years, not a few months. By all counts, this gap should be easier to bridge. But somehow, this chasm feels harder to cross. There’s more to it now.

The subway takes her cell service for a bit so the decision cannot be made. Maybe she’s grateful for it. She doesn’t want today to be weighed down by the stress of her crumbling relationship, she wants today to be celebratory. Maybe Rhaenyra is just innocently congratulating her, but the minute a phone call opens between the two of them, it clears the path for anything and everything to cross into the field of discussion. Alicent doesn’t know where the two of them would even begin. It feels so great now—the distance between them.

Sarah sits in a table by the window, holding up a menu as she waits for Alicent, leaning back as she sits cross-legged in her hair. As soon as she catches sight of Alicent, her face lights up and she asks, “So is it after the nomination you start charging for meetings or is it after the win?”

“I’m not winning anything,” Alicent sighs, a breathy smile on her face as she settles down at the table. “It’s good to see you, really a friendly face is definitely what I need right now.”

“How about champagne?”

“It’s noon.”

“We’re in New York,” Sarah retorts with a shrug, laughing as she hands the menu over to Alicent. “Speaking of, me and my friends were going out tonight if you wanted people to celebrate with. Nothing crazy, probably just a bit of club-hopping and drinks.”

“Can I think about it and get back to you?” Alicent hums, perusing the menu. It’s not that she doesn’t want to celebrate—she’s just not sure her form of celebrating is clubbing in negative degree weather. Though, it is certainly nice to be invited to places. As peaceful as New York has been, it has been slightly lonely. She’s back seeing her therapist once a week, but Sarah has been a nice addition. Mysaria had considered flying out, but she’s swamped with work over in London and the last thing Alicent needs is another intervention. She’s doing good, all things considered. Better than good. She feels great. Just a little lonely, perhaps, but that’s never killed her before. She was lonely most of her marriage.

“Yeah, totally,” Sarah tells her, taking a sip of ice water, “So, have you talked to that not an ex not a girlfriend of yours yet?”

“Don’t ask me about her,” Alicent sighs, placing the menu down on the table. “She called me this morning.”

Sarah’s expression perks up at this, sitting up in her chair and resting her arms against the table as she asks, “What’d she say?”

Alicent just shrugs. “I don’t know. I missed it. Haven’t called her back yet.”

“Why not? Isn’t that kind of what you were waiting for?” Sarah has a point, regrettably.

A phone call from Rhaenyra was exactly what Alicent was waiting for and yet, now that it’s arrived, she has absolutely no idea what to do with it. A phone call won’t change the fact that Rhaenyra is in London and Alicent is here. It’s been almost two months since they last saw each other, weeks since they even spoke. Even if they could sort everything out, it won’t change the fact that Alicent is here and Rhaenyra is there. She needs to just get over that—Rhaenyra has responsibilities. The responsibilities aren’t why they broke up (not broken up—she reminds herself), it’s because Rhaenyra didn’t tell her. Couldn’t trust her with something that huge, thought she would crumble beneath the pressure of it. The reminder makes Alicent’s skin tingle with poorly contained frustration all over again and that’s no good for either of them.

“Kind of? I don’t know,” Alicent finally answers as soon as she can find the words, carefully plucking them out of her train of thought as she struggles to think of what she really does want. “I miss her terribly and I don’t think what she did is unforgivable, I just am not sure I know how to forgive it yet. Does that make any sense at all?”

“It does,” Sarah nods. Both of them quiet down as the waiter comes to take their order and menus, but as soon as he’s gone, the conversation returns. “It’s like… you know you can get there and you probably will, you just can’t find the way right now. That’s why you came here, right? To be alone and unbothered for a bit? Maybe you just need more time. I mean, you can let her congratulate you without getting too into it. That’s probably why she called.”

Alicent shakes her head softly, brushing her off with a quiet sigh. “I’m not sure. Knowing us, she’d call to congratulate me and then we’d just get back into it and I—I don’t know if I’m ready for that. My therapist told me it might be good for me to have some time to sit and settle into my sexuality without dating someone or seeking anyone out, but I don’t feel like I’m sitting in anything, I feel like I’m just moping around in a Brooklyn brownstone.”

“Worse places to mope around,” Sarah shrugs. “Maybe you just need to wait until she’s back and everything will blow over.”

“If she’s back that means her father is dead,” Alicent explains, pinching the bridge of her nose. Maybe she should have taken Sarah up on that champagne. “And that’s a can of worms I’m not sure I’m equipped to open.”

“Do you even want to get back with her, Alicent?” Sarah asks. The question stops her in her tracks. She had always just assumed that missing Rhaenyra meant they needed to be together again. It had been obvious to her. Maybe that is an answer in and of itself, but now that she’s been asked so plainly, she finds herself faltering. “Sometimes a first girlfriend is just that—a first. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

Alicent changes the subject. “Tell me about your first girlfriend.”

Sarah groans, throwing her head back as memory clutches her. “Sally Knowles in the 11th grade—Sarah and Sally, yeah, I know. She was a senior, it was exhilarating to date someone so much older. She told me she loved me and then said yes three days later when Jason Davis asked her to prom. Worst heartbreak to have when you’re sixteen.”

“Did you ever look back?” Alicent leans a head on her hand as she asks. When she was sixteen, she was dating a boy. She can hardly remember his name now—they hadn’t lasted much longer than a couple of weeks. Very few of them did. Maybe that should have been a sign Alicent picked up on later.

“I didn’t,” Sarah remarks and for a moment, Alicent feels scared. She can’t imagine not looking back towards Rhaenyra. Even if this is the end for them, she thinks if she were walking down the street and Rhaenyra passed her, she’d turn around for a second glance. All she could hope for is that Rhaenyra turns back for another look, too. As if she can sense Alicent’s fear, she adds, “A lot of people do, though. I know plenty of women who are friends with their exes—some have even started dating them again and worked out perfectly. It’s all about timing and communication, that’s really all there is to it. But first and foremost, you have to want it. Is it something you want?”

Alicent stares at her, a deep breath passing through her lips. Their food arrives, putting a pause in the conversation which Alicent is extremely grateful for considering she really does not have an answer yet. She’s been wanting to work things out with Rhaenyra because she feels like she should, but is that what she wants?

The rest of lunch thankfully dissolves into surface level chat—Sarah insists on helping Alicent plan a speech for when she “inevitably wins” but Alicent brushes her off with a blushing grin. Getting nominated was one thing, Alicent couldn’t possibly imagine actually winning. Of course, she’d prepare a speech just in case because the last thing she would want is to be caught off guard, but she has months to worry about that. January is almost over but the ceremony itself won’t be until March. March would mark almost a full year since Alicent first called Rhaenyra ahead of their filming beginning. The thought shocks her more than she would like to admit. It feels as if everything has happened between them in the blink of an eye. And then it was over just as quickly.

She bids Sarah goodbye on the sidewalk, pulling her into a casual hug before they head off separate ways down the sidewalk. The missed call from Rhaenyra still burns a hole in her back pocket, but Alicent has no clue what to do about it. She contemplates the invite to go clubbing tonight and almost considers taking her up on it just to get out of the house a bit more.

As she walks from the subway station, Alicent feels a series of buzzes in her back pockets and wonders if Rhaenyra is calling her again. Instead, though, it’s a text from Marcie linking an article.

‘Alicent Hightower spotted with blonde bombshell amid Targaryen break-up rumors,’ reads the headline from some sh*tty magazine Alicent hardly glances at when she passes it on the newsstands. sh*tty or not, though, it’s still her face on the front cover. Pictured below the headline is one photo of her sitting at lunch with Sarah and the next of the two of them hugging goodbye.

Alicent groans, pressing her phone to her ear as she unlocks the door of her place with one hand. Marcie answers almost immediately, “What? I come out as a lesbian and suddenly I’m not allowed to be friends with women anymore?”

“I never said you weren’t allowed to have friends,” Marcie comments, “The Daily Mail did.”

“f*ck the Daily Mail.”

“I agree, but news is news nonetheless. Your name should be in the paper because you’re nominated for an Oscar, not because you’re traipsing around with a look-alike of your ex in New York.”

Alicent scoffs, “She is not—”

She hesitates. Okay, maybe Sarah does have a similar strong nose and sharp jaw, but her hair is a handful of shades darker and she styles it differently anyway. It means nothing. They’re friends. She’s already made it clear to Sarah she’s not interested in dating anyone right now, not in New York. After a moment, she sighs, “Okay, what do we do?”

“I handle this. You call your girlfriend before she sees it,” Marcie tells her and Alicent balks. Girlfriend. Is Rhaenyra still her girlfriend? It hardly feels like it. Even so, she should call. Just to clear the air before Rhaenyra sees any troubling news. That’s all it has to be.

“Fine, I can… I can try and do that,” Alicent levels with her, hanging up the phone with Marcie as she settles down on her couch and tries to steady her racing heart. First she shoots off a text towards Sarah, letting her know about the article and apologizing for her newfound public status as rumored new girlfriend of hollywood starlet—as the article so lovingly stated.

She stares up at her ceiling, taking a deep breath as she finally presses the phone to her ear. Rhaenyra picks almost right away. “I’m not dating her.”

“I know,” is the first thing Rhaenyra says, sounding tired. It’s not too late in the evening for her, but definitely late enough for her to be done with the day. “Congratulations on the nomination. I think I get to say I told you so now.”

Alicent scoffs, “You don’t get to say that until I win.”

“You will.”

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent breathes, dropping her head into her hands as she focuses on the sound of Rhaenyra’s breathing across the line. Her next words are whispered, laced with insecurity, “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” Rhaenyra groans, sounding as if she’s shifting around. Maybe she’s lying down in bed, staring at the ceiling and wishing Alicent was there with her. Alicent doesn’t think she’ll ever know. “Why’d you go to New York?”

Alicent doesn’t tell her the real reason—I needed to be somewhere that wasn’t haunted by you. Where you couldn’t reach me, where I could turn a street corner and see nothing that made me think of you. She settles for a reason that is close enough instead. “Los Angeles was getting too crowded for the winter, I wanted to go somewhere where it actually gets cold. Rhaenyra, are we still dating?”

“Why? Do you want to date other people?” Rhaenyra asks with a bite to her words that tells Alicent that even if Rhaenyra knows Alicent isn’t dating Sarah, she would certainly be upset if she were. She wonders what Rhaenyra is thinking. If she saw the photos with Sarah and thought Alicent was chasing ghosts. What she doesn’t know is Alicent has been running from them for weeks.

“That’s not the question right now, Rhaenyra,” she says, her voice weary with confusion and exhaustion. “The question is us. What are we doing? Because if you were my girlfriend, I’d like you to call me when you say you’re going to call me. Since apparently you want to work things out so badly. I’d hardly know considering I hadn’t heard from you in weeks. Even now, I had to be the one to call. To defend a woman you don’t even know that I’m not even dating or interested in dating because I can’t stop thinking about you and us and where we went wrong and it is driving me insane, Rhaenyra.”

“How do you think I feel?” Rhaenyra sighs, sounding more sad than angry now. “I’m dealing with so much over here and at the same time, I’m terrified to speak to you because I’m afraid you’ll wake up and decide you hate me and that this is no use and then you’ll go find another blonde in a bar and I won’t matter to you anymore.”

Alicent stands from the couch and takes the phone call upstairs, running a nervous hand through her hair as she paces around her brownstone, unsure what words she wants to find right now. Her mind is a sopping mess of emotion that she has no clue how to navigate. She thinks of Sarah’s question earlier at lunch—Do you even want to get back with her?

“You do matter to me, Rhaenyra, that’s why this is driving me so crazy,” Alicent groans, finally settling on something to say. “I just—I don’t want to play guessing games. I don’t want to go weeks waiting by the phone to rehash the same sh*t over and over because yes, I am still upset that you couldn’t trust me with this and I am upset that you are in London and I am upset that we are fighting and I don’t know how to stop being that and I’m sick of pretending that I’m not. I know you can’t control things with your father and that you must be absolutely broken up about it, but I was supposed to be the person you could turn to when things like this happen. But you didn’t and you can’t change that and I don’t know how to be okay with that right now.”

“So what are you saying? That this is just the way things are going to be now?”

“Right now? Yes,” Alicent huffs out, feeling the frustration shared between the two of them. “And honestly, right now, I don’t even know if we should be together.”

And there it was. Hanging in the air over the Atlantic. The truth that had been weighing down on Alicent’s chest since Rhaenyra first left. She loved Rhaenyra more than anything, but maybe her therapist was right. She needed some time alone. To settle. When things with Rhaenyra were peaceful, they had been perfect, but right now, she’s become an absolute shell of herself. Running away from things she cannot see. She knows that maybe they need more than an ocean between them. That maybe they need the tie that tethers them to be cut. Perhaps it can be tied together again, but right now, Alicent is sick of wondering and guessing and missing her.

Rhaenyra is quiet for a long time. Alicent is almost certain she’s hung up when eventually she swallows and says, “Maybe we shouldn’t be, then.”

Her heart is pounding so fiercely she can almost hear it echoing against the walls of her bedroom. She’s glad they’re having this conversation here instead of in the apartment they shared. That would just make everything worse. Part of her almost wants to move out of that apartment entirely, to never step foot in it ever again. That can be something she decides later. Right now, there is a bigger decision directly in front of her.

Alicent’s voice is quiet when she next speaks, “It’s not that I don’t love you, Rhaenyra.”

“I know.”

“So, that’s it, then?” Alicent sighs, running a hand over her cheek where she wipes away newly formed tears. She doesn’t dare make a noise. She doesn’t want Rhaenyra to know she’s crying.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Rhaenyra says finally with a heady sigh falling from her lips. Alicent shares a similar feeling, her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach like a stone, weighing her down with grief and heartbreak. It drags her to the floor as she sits down on the carpet against the side of her bed, breathing in deeply in a shallow attempt to ground herself.

“Alright then,” is all Alicent can bring herself to say before clicking the button to end the call. The moment she hangs up, the silence in her room is deafening as she sits on her floor, dropping her phone to the carpet and letting her head fall into her hands. The tears stream freely now and she yearns to know how Rhaenyra is feeling—what she’s doing at this exact moment in London and if it looks similar at all to Alicent. She hates this feeling. It’s a feeling she’s desperate to rid herself of.

Looking at the phone she discarded on the carpet moments ago, she reaches for it and pulls up her conversation with Sarah. f*ck it. I’m up for an Oscar. Let’s go out tonight.

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

Alicent hadn’t always wanted to be a star. In fact, growing up, she coiled at the attention. Her father had lathered her in it—of course, with Gwayne off at boarding school probably learning to be an entirely different kind of f*cked up (though in some kind of universal betrayal for Alicent, he’s the most normal out of both them). Her father had worked hard to ensure Alicent danced only in the palm of his hand, twisted strings around her wrists and ankles; a marionette of his own design. It wasn’t until she was a pre-teen that she began to make her own decisions—well, sort of. She met Rhaenyra. And Rhaenyra was interested in drama and theater. Alicent liked Rhaenyra so by extension, she liked drama and theater. In an effort to get away from her father’s prying eye and working hands, Alicent joined her in every afterschool program imaginable—even going so far as to attend theater camp together, working in community productions and secondary school classes. Every opportunity that crossed their path, they joined hands and took it together.

Somewhere along the line, Alicent became addicted to it. Addicted to the praise, the attention, the drama of it—and more than anything, the ability to be anyone but herself for a moment. It was intoxicating to step away from the poisoned mess of her life, the dwindling, blackened roots of the Hightower home and be above herself. Maybe it was selfish of her—the crave the spotlight, the fiend for the eyes on her. But it beat the alternative.

Now, acting is a safe haven. With Rhaenyra gone—not just gone, shoved away and across the sea, Alicent has nothing less. She dives into her work.

She’s back in Los Angeles two weeks after the break-up.

“Miss Hightower, it’s wonderful to have you here today,” the casting director greets as Alicent steps into the room—sitting beside her is a director Alicent hasn’t worked with before, Shelby Parker, though she’s heard of her. “We were surprised to hear from your agent given the films you’ve done recently.”

“I wanted something different, something intense,” Alicent breathes out, trying to relax the tension in her shoulders. “I saw a lot of myself in this character, I thought she was interesting. So, I’m really grateful you’ve allowed me to read for her today.”

“Let’s get started then,” the casting director continues—Alicent forgot to get her name. She begins reading the stage directions from the top of the pages Alicent had been sent ahead of her audition. Alicent draws in a deep breath.

‘Alicent Hightower Snags Role in New Dramatic Thriller from Shelby Parker’

By Jane Davis

Hot off an Oscar nomination for Guadagnino’s ‘Sunsetters,’ Alicent Hightower (Unto Devotion, Tear Me To Pieces) snags the lead role in the dramatic thriller, America’s Sweetheart from director Shelby Parker (Wildflowers, Pulse).

The film follows a bright-eyed actress (Hightower) who finds herself with the opportunity of a lifetime. Though when a competing actress and conniving producer threaten the role that will ultimately shoot her to ungodly fame, the star will do whatever it takes to keep herself climbing the ladder.

A thriller is a shocking turn for Hightower, who has made her name in soft spoken independent films, most recently with the Italian-set romance, ‘Unto Devotion’ starring her and Rhaenyra Targaryen (Letters From Home). Though, fan reactions to the casting have been overwhelmingly positive.

‘America’s Sweetheart’ is set to begin filming later this year.

“Are you sure returning to Los Angeles is the best course of action?” Julia asks, expression stern as she watches Alicent through the screen. Online therapy wasn’t her most favorite thing in the world, but she needed to be in California for casting and pre-production and all sorts of things. “Returning to the apartment you two shared?”

“She’s not here, it can’t be that scary,” Alicent deflects, leaning back in her office chair as she looks anywhere but the screen. When she told Julia she’d be returning to Los Angeles, her therapist made her promise to try and get on a call with her at least twice a month. Alicent knew she needed it—especially now.

“Does it feel like you’re returning to the scene of a crime or running from another one?” Julia asks, referring to the brownstone Alicent had abandoned in New York. After ending things with Rhaenyra there, something about it was off.

“I don’t know.” She looks down, picking at her cuticles. “I’m worried I didn’t do the right thing. I mean, her father is dying.”

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you whether or not what you did was selfish or wrong, Alicent, and truthfully, none of that matters because it is already done. Rhaenyra is no doubt dealing with her own grief and it may feel natural and even right to pull away from that—especially given your own experience with grief. Clinging to the lies she told and how that made you feel in a situation you don’t know how to navigate may have led you to believe ending things was the best solution,” Julia says with a stern expression on her face that makes Alicent’s stomach drop to her feet. It’s never an expression one wants to see when asking their longtime therapist for reassurance.

“But I’m not here to tell you whether you should go running back to her or not. I am going to offer you this, Alicent, you know grief. You know grief incredibly well, inside and out. You might not think you do, but you know some level of exactly what Rhaenyra is dealing with right now. Grief makes people unreasonable and when they can see it coming—it makes people scared. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t trust you or that the years of friendship you’ve shared meant nothing and I don’t think either of you were dead set on hurting each other. It’s a tough situation to navigate, but not impossible. Take some time away from it all, follow through on this break-up. There’s a chance you take this and you run, Alicent. The two of you never get back together, the two of you might even never speak again.”

Alicent pales at the thought of this—at the thought of not being able to have Rhaenyra in her life. In the last ten years they spent apart, it had seemed almost easy. Alicent had other things to think about—other jobs, a husband, new friends that never lasted and never felt the same. But now that she’d had Rhaenyra back, even for a little bit, she doesn’t know if she’s as willing to let go of it. So why had she been so willing to say goodbye to it all over the phone? Over the phone?

“Alicent, listen to me,” Julia commands her attention once more, “I can’t tell you what to do here. But I want you to try to think of this from Rhaenyra’s perspective more than your own. You’re allowed to protect yourself, but don’t build walls so tall that you forget how the people around you feel as well.”

“What if she hates me?” Alicent finally breathes out, her voice scratchy and raw with desperation. “What if I made the wrong choice and I can’t take it back and I can’t apologize? What if she won’t speak to me again?”

“Then that is something you will have to cope with,” is Julia’s answer. Alicent hates it. She hates knowing the woman is right. She may have dug her own grave here and she can try as much as she wants to dig herself out until her nails are raw and bloody and caked with dirt, she’ll still end up six feet under. “Look, we’re running out of time, is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”

“Am I a bad person?” Alicent asks, her voice so meek she hardly recognizes herself. It’s not a fair question—even for a therapist to answer. Alicent knows this and yet she still needs to speak the words out loud.

“You know that’s not a productive question, Alicent,” Julia tells her—exactly the answer Alicent expected. It’s better than a yes, worse than a no. “Look, let’s do this time next week and we’ll talk more about this then, okay? Congratulations on the role, by the way.”

Alicent barely utters a ‘thanks’ before the screen goes black. She sighs and drops her head into her hands, running them up through her tangled curls. She’s replayed the conversation with Rhaenyra in her head a million times since it happened and she feels worse about it each and every time. She tries to put herself back in the grief of losing her mother—it had been so sudden and she had been so young, it’s almost hard to remember.

One moment her mother had been there—bidding her goodbye for the morning—and then she was gone. Alicent had barely cried over it. Her father had made a comment about her taking it remarkably well while his darling boy—a boy supposed to be the utmost example of manlihood—had been an inconsolable wreck. Alicent, though, had been eerily calm. It wasn’t until she received a negative note from a director in the community play she had been in the middle of that she threw such a fit, screaming until she was blue in the face and had gotten kicked from the production, that it started to make sense.

(“What’s Hightower’s deal?” the kids had muttered as Alicent stormed from the theater, tears streaming down her face as she stomped down the stage.

“Shut up, her mum just died,” came Rhaenyra’s defense, always there when Alicent didn’t have the words for herself.)

She did not know what it meant to watch a loved one slowly deteriorate. To have to nurse them and care for them knowing you are doing nothing more than delaying the inevitable. To put together a last will and testament for someone watching over your shoulder. Alicent can’t fathom what that must be like. The sort of grief that comes from waiting.

Alicent had done it all wrong. She knew that. She knew from the moment she first started that fight with Rhaenyra way back at the premiere that she was going about it the wrong way, but she couldn’t stop. It was like swerving a car off the road—trying to avoid one accident and ending up in one far worse. She felt like she was sitting on the side of the road, the front of her car wrapped around a tree while her hands grip the steering wheel and blood streams from her forehead. Behind her, cars don’t bat an eye as they keep driving. Her chest begins to heave as her fingers climb through her hair, taking strands of auburn with them as they depart. She tugs at the fabric of her shirt, taking heaving breaths as she tries to calm herself, falling out of her chair and onto the carpeted floor, struggling to ground herself.

(“And honestly, right now, I don’t even know if we should be together.”)

The words haunt her. True as they may be, she doesn’t know if they should have been spoken out loud. If they should have been anything at all. It shouldn’t have been a phone call. After that, Alicent had gone out with Sarah and her friends and gotten the trashiest version of drunk she’d been in a while. Miraculously, there were no paparazzi photos (Alicent knew she loved New York for a reason), but she had ended up sobbing to Sarah in the back of a taxi at three in the morning. That alone probably should have been a sign that maybe the break-up had been rockier than Alicent intended.

She lies down on the carpeted floor, staring up at the spinning ceiling as her breaths steady.

(“Then that is something you will have to cope with.”)

She wants to talk to Rhaenyra. But she no longer has any right. Her breathing slows down, chest no longer heaving as her vision begins to clear up. The world stops spinning, at least for a little bit.

The next week, Alicent finds herself all dolled up for the Golden Globe Awards—a precursor to the Academy Awards that are now mere weeks from now. Alicent isn’t sure when time began passing so quickly and it’s beginning to stress her out. She stands next to Harwin on a red carpet—her dress is a simple strapless black number with a mesh panel covering her midriff before falling into a simple tulle skirt, lined beneath so it keeps its shape as she walks. A vintage Valentino pull that made her look utterly fantastic. The dress is simple so as not to drown out the intricate diamond necklace around her neck, her hair kept up to keep the attention on her neck. No one looking at her would know she craved to tear her own skin apart. She tries to find the part of herself that craves the attention—the stardom of it all, but she just feels like an empty cavern of a person.

She keeps catching wisps of blonde in the crowd and she thinks it might be Rhaenyra. It’s not. Rhaenyra is in London, of course. Rhaenyra is not here. Alicent is here and despite being surrounded by people, she has never felt more utterly and pathetically alone in her life.

“How you holding up?” Harwin whispers in her ear, her grip on his arm probably tight enough to be uncomfortable for him. She lessens her grip slightly.

“Feeling like a horrible, selfish, bitch as of late, you?”

“You’re too harsh on yourself, Alicent,” Harwin chides. The conversation pauses as they stop and pose for photographers. Alicent lets go of him briefly so there can be solo photos of her and solo photos of Harwin off to the other side. She misses the warmth immediately. He’s become a bit of a security for her as of late when it comes to public appearances. After all, she no longer has Rhaenyra’s arm to lean on—as good as they looked together.

“It’s true,” Alicent mutters once they’re back together, carrying on for the photos as the interview portion of the carpet looms. “I broke up with someone who’s father is currently dying. It’s evil.”

“It was better than leaving her hanging on by a thread,” Harwin leans down and whispers in her ear. “And you were in no position to go running into her arms the way she needed you to. Better to be not there at all then half-ass it. She’ll forgive you in time.”

“What if she doesn't?”

Harwin looks down at her with an expression almost too pitiful for her to take. “It’s Rhaenyra.”

“That’s not a good answer,” Alicent sighs. “I don’t want her to just forgive me because we’ve known each other forever and she loves me, I want her to forgive me because I’ve worked for it, because I’ve earned it.”

“Is her loving you not earning it enough?” Harwin asks. A camera flashes in her face and a microphone pushes towards her. Their time is up.

Alicent answers questions politely. Winning a Golden Globe for Sunsetters would almost certainly seal her fate for the Academy Awards—she knows this. Most of the women that win the Golden Globe for lead actress tend to take home an Oscar the following month, but Alicent isn’t so sure of herself. She’d prepared a speech because Marcie told her to, but she has no clue if she’ll need to use it. Sunsetters is already an award winning performance—she knows this. A Palme D’or, a handful of Critic’s Choice. It was just this and the SAG Awards next week that would truly secure the film’s status. And all eyes were on her. Harwin had snagged a few nominations, of course, but with too many powerhouses in his categories, he was unlikely to win. Alicent, however, was a shining star in her categories—a favorite to win. She could hardly believe it.

Interviews are mostly painless—at awards shows, the interviews are usually kept simple since there’s a plethora of stars to get through, much different from premiere interviews that are a bit more personal and much more catered to the stars themselves. Alicent doesn’t mind awards shows. Harwin remains by her side as they reach their assigned table. Alicent orders a drink first thing, taking it far too quickly for how long the show itself is, but she’ll pace herself later.

Two hours into the show, Alicent is more than ready to go home. It’s almost time for her category—Best Actress in a Motion Picture - Drama. She can hardly believe it. It wasn’t her first time up for such an award, but it’s still a surprise every time. Part of her still isn’t sure this is her life. Sometimes, she gets the sense that one day, she’ll wake up a young girl and get a chance to do it all over again. She wonders if, in this far off universe, her mother is still alive. If maybe things would be different. She’s here now and she can’t go back. She can never go back.

Her heart pulses as her category approaches. She wishes she drank more but part of her remained hopeful—she didn’t want to be too drunk on the off chance she actually wins this thing. Maybe wishful thinking, but maybe she still had some girlish hope left in her afterall. Beside her, Harwin grips her hand, sensing her nerves. It shouldn’t matter. It’s just a Golden Globe. But if she doesn’t get the Golden Globe, then there is an incredibly slim chance she gets the Oscar. And that is the heartbreak she’s really scared of. Somewhere along the line, she fell in love with the hope of it all. The hope of standing on stage at the Academy Awards, a speech prepared in her hand. Somewhere, in this nonsensical dream, Rhaenyra is sitting in the audience, beaming with pride. It’ll never happen. Not in the way she thinks.

They begin to announce her category—Alicent smiles as the camera focuses on her as they read her nomination. She beams, hoping it reaches her eyes. She wonders if Rhaenyra is at home in London watching. A foolish thought. She’d be surprised if Rhaenyra could bear to look at her at all.

She waits with bated breath, watching the card open. Harwin squeezes her hand again and she tries to steady her breath, but her heart won’t stop racing.

The card gets read off—Alicent doesn’t hear her name.

For a moment, her ears ring. Everything in the room fades to white noise and time seems to slow down. Harwin nudges her and she snaps out of it, breaking out into applause as another actress begins to take the steps to accept her award. Alicent doesn’t hear any spoken words, though, all she can hear is ringing in her ears as she claps, the act stinging her hands. After she knows for a fact there are no more cameras on her, she turns and orders another drink, downing the last of the one that’s already on her table.

When there’s a small break between awards, she stands up from the table quickly under the guise of using the bathroom. She steps out of the room, smiling softly at security guards as she does so, careful not to bump shoulders with anyone. She steps all the way outside, reaching into her clutch and pulling out a carton of cigarettes.

She lights one with shaking hands, trying to will herself to go back in there. She was a fool to think she could do this—that she was good enough for something like this. Alicent isn’t sure what’s left for her. She’s not excelling in film the way she wants to, she’s ruined the only good relationship she’s ever had, and now she’s chain smoking outside the Golden Globes. She works hard to steady her breath—the last thing she wants to do is look like a bad sport, even if nobody is watching.

Reaching into her clutch once more, she pulls out the speech she prepared. She unfolds the paper, reading over the words once more. It all feels so ridiculous now. Feeling bitter, she takes her lit cigarette from her lips and stabs it through the paper until there’s a crisp hole singed in it. She crumples up what’s left of it and tosses it in a nearby trash can. Alicent stomps out her cigarette, knowing she should get back in there in time to see Best Motion Picture because Sunsetters is up for the drama category. Maybe that one they’ll win—but it won’t be the same, she won’t be the one winning. She feels pathetic.

As she heads back towards the ceremony, she dares to check her phone. There’s a text from Marcie (you’ll get ‘em next time) and shockingly—one from Rhaenyra. Alicent stops in her tracks, her phone nearly slipping in her hands. She wipes her sweaty palms on a dress that probably costs more than her apartment. With shaking hands, she opens the text. It should’ve been you on that stage.

Rhaenyra is too kind. That’s all Alicent can think. She watches the ceremony from the doors for a moment. She allows herself to send one response—It should’ve been you on my arm. I’m sorry.

It’s sh*t. All of this is sh*t, but she has no clue what she’s doing. She takes a deep breath and shoves her phone back in her clutch and heads back towards her table.

“And the Golden Globe for Best Motion Picture - Drama goes to…” the host begins, slowly flipping open the card, “Sunsetters.”

Alicent had barely reached her seat before being tugged out of it. Harwin has a hand on her waist, guiding her to the stairs along with a few other co-stars and most importantly Luca. She forces a smile onto her face, trying to conjure any form of joy in her heart, but finding none of it. All she can think about is a stupid text. A text that is far more than she deserves at all. It should’ve been you on that stage. Rhaenyra had been watching. She was still watching Alicent even after everything. It takes everything in her not to call Marcie and book a flight to London.

She can’t breathe, but she smiles through it in her Valentino dress and neck dripping with diamonds. The lights blind her. She wants nothing more than to go home and find Rhaenyra there waiting for her—to find Rhaenyra in this audience and see her clapping.

“...and I could not have made this film without my brilliant stars,” she tunes back into Luca’s voice, realizing he is reaching for her. “Alicent, Harwin, you two made this film what it is. I am nothing without you, my darling.”

This time, Alicent’s smile feels more real than it was. She lets Luca pull her in and kiss her on the cheek and she beams for the cameras, hugging him and keeping Harwin close by her side. She looks into the cameras and she hopes Rhaenyra knows she’s looking for her. She’s always going to be looking for her.

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Alicent doesn’t hear from Rhaenyra after that, but she doesn’t expect to. It’s been a busy month of working on things with Julia, trying to figure out what she wants and how to earn it more than anything all while getting into pre-production for her next film set to begin filming in a few months. In that time, though, there are still table reads, chemistry tests, fittings, and all sorts of things to be dealt with once awards season begins to settle down. Awards season has been the beast in Alicent’s reflection—constantly lingering over her shoulders and bringing her mood down. Sunsetters has collected its fair share of awards—and Alicent her nominations, though wins for her performance are scarce. She tries very hard not to be upset over it—after all, even getting nominated is an honor, but she won’t pretend she didn’t let herself get her hopes up a bit. Only for them to fall a little more with each and every award that passes over her.

“Miss Hightower—Miss Hightower, over here,” Alicent hears the telltale call of paparazzi as she waltzes down the carpet at the Academy Awards. March crept up on her, though all time has been passing far too quickly without Rhaenyra by her side. All of the days have blended together in a melancholic harmony of seconds passing into minutes into weeks all without Alicent noticing. Now, she’s here in a stunningly simple black dress. An off-the-shoulder neckline leaves just enough to the imagination as a velvet-lined tight bodice holds everything together (and makes her cleavage look stunning, if she does say so herself), spilling into a simple floor length skirt of the same soft material. She paired the look with layers of pearl necklaces and black gloves that go all the way up to her bicep. She’s let her hair fall down her back in styled loose ringlets, brushing against her exposed shoulders with every shift of her head.

“You look fantastic, Alicent,” one of the photographers shouts and Alicent can’t help but smile, bringing up a gloved hand to push a lock of hair out of her face. As she grins, the photographers begin to cheer, demanding her attention as they try and snap still photos of her. She poses with her clutch, trying to muster up any excitement within her, though struggling profoundly with the task. It’s a difficult thing to walk into a losing battle—something Alicent is becoming increasingly familiar with.

She moves on so someone else can have their moment on the carpet before she’s stopped by an interviewer. “Hi, Miss Hightower, I’m Lauren with Deadline, are you all right with a quick chat?”

“Of course, pleased to meet you,” Alicent holds out her hand to shake the interviewer’s with a soft smile on her face as she prepares herself to answer questions. “Ask away.”

“So, this is your first Oscars ceremony where you’re actually up for an award, how’s that feel?”

“Just fantastic,” Alicent nods, a small grin forming on her face. “I’ve attended these ceremonies alongside friends and other films for years and it’s always such a lovely time, but there really is something special about being nominated. Even if I go home empty-handed tonight, just for The Academy to have recognized my performance at all is an honor and definitely a career high for me.”

Lauren congratulates her for the nomination, making a comment about having her fingers crossed (something she’s sure these interviewers say to every nominated actor that crosses their path on this carpet, but she appreciates it nonetheless) before moving onto her next question. “You’re hot off a casting announcement for a new film by Shelby Parker, a totally different genre than we’ve seen you in before, are you excited?”

“Absolutely ecstatic. I was worried that when I got my start in these soft indies and started to get recognized for them that I was going to fall into a sort of genre typecast, so I really do get excited when I get the opportunity to go out for types of roles that I haven’t really gotten to explore before. I never want to feel like I’m not in a place in my career where I can’t try something new. I’ve been trying a lot of new things this last year or so and I like to see that reflected in my work.”

The rest of the interview carries on rather unimportantly—inconsequential answers Alicent hardly remembers saying but will almost certainly be headline attention grabbers or bylines later. She doesn’t mind this part of the job, for the most part, people are easy to please when it comes to award show interviews. All she has to do is say how grateful she is and wish everyone the best and move on.

“Now, Alicent, one last question, I can’t help but notice your girlfriend, Rhaenyra Targaryen has been noticeably absent from your arm this awards’ season. Last we heard she was filming a new Georgia Oakley film in London, is that all there is to it?” Lauren asks and suddenly, Alicent has made an enemy out of her. She asks the question in a cutting tone that confirms what they both know—Rhaenyra isn’t absent because she’s filming, she’s absent because the two of them are absolutely on the outs. Everyone in the world knows that, yet Alicent has worked hard to keep mum about it mainly because she’s still working through it herself.

Alicent hesitates before answering, “She’s been working, yes. I hear she’s doing well.”

She understands the implications of her words and she knows a simple answer will have everyone up in arms over her relationship (or lack thereof), but there’s no more she can bring herself to say on the subject matter. She dismisses herself from the interview with a simple thank you before taking off down the carpet. Alicent doesn’t stop for any more interviews, even though she knows Marcie will yell at her over it later (it’s the Oscars, she’ll say, the perfect place to market yourself). Alicent has marketed herself enough—she is well booked and incredibly busy and she can no longer bring herself to smile for the cameras.

When she’s inside the theater, she heads straight for the smoking section out a side door where she’ll be protected from prying eyes and cameras. Alicent snaps open her clutch and pulls out a carton of cigarettes, lighting one for herself while she checks her phone. It’s exactly what she expected from a live interview feed being pushed.

‘@futchism: “i hear she’s well” oh it’s never been more over

—@rhaenuisance: let’s be real it’s been over for months the premiere cooked them whatever happened’

‘@shortstopsix: i knew it was over but hearing it is somehow so much worse’

‘@uncannyfemme: i feel like a child of divorce right now’

Alicent sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she puts her phone away, taking a long drag of her cigarette and trying to let it calm her nerves. Her break-up was already public enough months ago at the premiere in December, but it’s a wound reopened now right before what might be the biggest night of her life. Other celebrities mingle, but Alicent keeps to herself, resisting the urge to check her phone. She allows herself one little glance.

‘@FilmUpdates: Alicent Hightower seemingly confirms split from Rhaenyra Targaryen on Oscars red carpet “I hear she’s well.”

@kieutougf: just fell to my knees in a walmart

@ringsidebyjb: rip to the most beautiful couple of our generation u were short lived but glorious’

Alicent feels sick to her stomach. She’ll get over it. Everyone had to find out eventually—most people already knew or assumed, but Alicent had felt a need to be quiet about it. As if no one finding out would make it not true. It was true, even more now than it used to be. Rhaenyra was across the ocean and Alicent was reinforcing bad habits hiding away at the Oscars. She throws her head back slightly, blowing smoke into the clear sky as if that will help clear her mind.

“Thought you’d be hiding out here,” Harwin peeks his head out the door, catching her attention as he joins her. She tosses her finished cigarette into the ashtray and motions for him to follow her inside. She doesn’t feel any better, but it’ll have to do for now. “Come on, we’re supposed to be getting to our seats soon. You feeling okay?”

“Better, but not great,” Alicent sighs, taking the arm Harwin offers. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up. I’ve been getting my hopes up all season and I keep getting crushed over and over again. I can’t wait for this all to be over. Maybe we’ll do better with Unto Devotion or maybe even America’s Sweetheart will snag something next year. I don’t know anymore.”

“You’re not even thirty-five, not getting an Oscar in your thirties will not be the end of your life,” Harwin reminds her, “Michelle Yeoh got her first at 60, it’s happened!”

“Michelle Yeoh was long overdue, be serious,” Alicent rolls her eyes, smiling at other actors and actresses as they pass by on the way to their seats. She catches Mysaria’s eye—a pleasant surprise. She pauses, leaning over an empty seat to speak to her, “I thought you were in London! I didn’t think you’d be making it back for the ceremony.”

Mysaria smiles, reaching out and squeezing Alicent’s hand. “Wrapped early, hopped on the first flight I could to put something together in time. I wanted to be here for you. And so I can watch Harwin lose.”

He rolls his eyes but the three of them just chuckle. Mysaria turns back to Alicent. “Good luck tonight, babe, whatever happens, you’re the best.”

Alicent scoffs quietly, squeezing her hand in return before dropping it with a soft smile. “We’ll see what everyone else thinks.”

She takes Harwin’s arm once more and the two of them find their marked seats, watching as the crowd settles down around them. Her leg bounces softly and she resigns herself to crossing them to keep herself from moving. The ceremony is around three and a half hours and her category is one of the last ones to be announced. Alicent thinks she may die in the meantime. Her hands shake, itching for another cigarette but she doesn’t let herself get up because she thinks if she does, she might see the door and just start running.

A few actors stop to say hello to her as they pass by and Alicent finds her cheeks hurting from the grins she has to force up onto her face. She’s grateful for the reprieve when the ceremony itself starts. Her fingers twitch in her lap as she hangs onto her clutch, trying to use it to keep her hands busy and away from picking at her cuticles. She doesn’t keep her fingernails painted because all she does is pick at them and she’s quick to maintain her hangnails and cuticles and all sorts of basic maintenance, but right now she just wants to tear it all apart. She’s grateful for the gloves.

She doesn’t mind Harwin beside her, but she can’t help but find herself wishing it was Rhaenyra. Her mind flashes back to a conversation held months ago.

(“You really think I could do it?” Alicent asks, whipping around to face Rhaenyra.

“I think it’s a crime you don’t already have one,” Rhaenyra comments, reaching across the space between them and grabbing Alicent’s hand in hers.)

Things had been so simple a few months ago—Rhaenyra and her in one space, delighting in each other’s company, relishing the moments they share together. She wishes they could go back to Greece—that newfound hope of being together properly for the first time without a roadblock in the way or her heart in pieces. Alicent thinks she took it for granted. She knows she did. She steadies her breath and tries to pay attention to the ceremony—clapping when she’s supposed to, smiling when she knows the camera might be passing over her. In reality, though, she feels outside herself as if she weren’t really here at all. She grips the armrest, trying to dig her nails into it though she knows she won’t be able to. Awards pass and Alicent doesn’t feel anything at all.

Hours go by and Alicent grows tired, unsure how much longer she can sit, clap, and smile. She knows Marcie has her on the books for the Vanity Fair afterparty, but all she’s going to be able to do there is hide, maybe smoke, definitely drink, and get the hell out of there. She just needs to be photographed in a good outfit and move on. That’s at least a couple of hours from now, though, as the ceremony begins to slow down to a close. Her category is rapidly approaching and Alicent finds her nerves kicking up once more. Her dress itches, the strap of her heel is digging into her ankle and everything burns. Even though her friends are here, she can’t remember the last time she felt this alone.

Harwin nudges her softly as the nominees for Best Actress begin to be called. Alicent perks up, smiling as her name is called and the camera lands on her. Her heart pulses in her chest and she takes steady breaths to calm herself, though nothing seems to work. She watches last year’s winner open the envelope and Alicent prepares herself for the inevitable disappointment as someone else’s name is called.

“And the Oscar goes to… Alicent Hightower for Sunsetters,” the words echo against Alicent’s brain as the theater bursts into applause. Harwin stands up to help Alicent as she struggles to get to her feet, not sure she’s heard correctly. He pulls her into a hug and she kisses his cheek, letting him help her to the stairs as everyone around her continues to clap. It was her name. They called her name. Alicent had won. She had a small speech prepared just in case and the words ring in her mind now as she takes the stage. She’s given another hug before being handed the blank statuette to be engraved with her name later.

And then she’s there at the podium. Alicent struggles to take it all in, gripping the statuette like it’s about to run away from her as she gazes out at the audience. She smiles—a real smile. “I don’t know where to begin.”

The audience chuckles and Alicent lets her eyes scan the room. The lights are almost too bright to flush them out, but she can still make out so many familiar faces. “I’d like to, of course, thank the Academy for enjoying my performance enough to give me something to show for it and my director, Luca, you’ve always believed in me and I’d work with you a million times over even if we were the only two people in the world watching it. You’re a brilliant mind and I’m so lucky to have been in this film of yours. My co-stars and my crew, you kept this movie alive, you kept me alive, and—”

Alicent pauses. She blinks, thinking she’s hallucinating. But no, Rhaenyra is sitting right there beside Mysaria in the audience. She’s smiling, but it’s bittersweet in a way where it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. She beams up at Alicent anyway, though, and she’s here. Somehow, Alicent had missed her on the carpet, but she’s wearing a nicely fitted suit and her hair, a bit longer now than it was, is loose around her face. Alicent thinks she might be falling in love all over again. All thoughts of her previously prepared speech fly out the window.”

“And I’d like to thank my friends who always supported me when I told them silly things like ‘I want to be an actress’ when I was younger. And you… you know I’m talking to you. You may have come along after this film was made, but somehow I feel like I still couldn’t have done it without you. I still can’t. Thank you, to the Academy, again, just, thank you.”

Tears fill her eyes as she descends the stairs to rapturous applause. She finds the strength to return to her seat even though all she wants to do is hyperventilate in a corner and maybe burst into tears (certainly burst into tears). She sits beside Harwin and he takes her hand in his, grounding her. He didn’t win for Best Actor, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You were great up there,” he whispers in her ear as they move onto Best Picture—the last award of the ceremony. Alicent still isn’t sure she doesn’t need to get her ears checked. But it’s there in her hands, they called out her name and Rhaenyra is here smiling at her and it all feels like something that fell out of her wildest dreams. She struggles to see what she did to deserve an evening like this, an evening that feels good and real for the first time in so long. Happiness feels so foreign these days, but that is undoubtedly what is radiating within her beating heart.

“And the Oscar for Best Picture goes to… Sunsetters!” Alicent blacks out for the second time this night. This time, Harwin joins her as the two of them stand, joined by Luca, a couple of producers and a few more co-stars of theirs as the group takes the stage. Alicent giggles alongside Harwin, feeling giddy as Luca grabs the statuette and begins his speech. She finds Rhaenyra in the crowd once more, making sure she’s still smiling. Alicent smiles at her in return, her eyes still watering, though she tries to keep it under control when she’s on stage. Everything in the theater fades to white noise, everything else going dark except for a spotlight on her and Rhaenyra.

She thinks to herself—even if they never speak again, even if nothing works out for them and they move on with their lives, she’s always going to love Rhaenyra.

Luca finishes his speech and they leave the stage as the ceremony prepares for its conclusion. Alicent feels… resolved, in a way. The knowledge that she will always love Rhaenyra and that she is okay with that, no matter what happens. She knows the chances that Rhaenyra come running back into her arms after what she did are slim, but it’s comforting to know it won’t be the end of the world if that does happen.

She’s ushered over alongside Luca to get her statuette engraved, smiling for photographers as she does so. Everything is too much and not enough all at once. She just wants to get out of here yet at the same time she is so blissfully happy. People praise her as they walk by, grabbing and squeezing her hand, patting her shoulder as they pass. She smiles graciously towards everyone, stopping and chatting with a few other people even though there’s only one person on her mind.

“Okay,” Marcie grabs her by the arm a few moments later, “We have thirty minutes to get you changed and onto the blue carpet for your photo op. Congratulations, darling, I knew you were a star, but man, does it feel good to have someone else tell you, doesn’t it?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Alicent breathes out, trying to catch up as she meets with her team. She’s handed a garment bag and ushered into a nearby hotel. Normally, she’d run back to her apartment to change with her team properly, but since she was actually nominated and her awards were at the end of the ceremony, they’re on a tight turnaround. She’s ushered into the bathroom where they take up a big stall—Alicent can’t help but laugh at how delightfully unceremonious this is considering it’s potentially the biggest night of her life. Someone unzips her dress and she’s presented with a garment bag containing a dress that homages a 90s Dolce & Gabbana pull that Alicent threw up on her afterparty moodboard when they were discussing what to wear. This one is designed by a friend of hers—a strapless black mini that hugs every curve. She keeps the gloves, the necklaces, and her black Versace pumps, feeling cold with how much leg she has on display, but that’s what living in Los Angeles is for.

Her team rushes out and mentions the car is waiting for her outside, but she has a few moments to collect herself. She takes a deep breath and steps out of the stall only to find someone else occupying the room.

Rhaenyra stands in front of the mirror, still in the same suit, though this time she’s shed the jacket and is just wearing a satin black shirt tucked into matching slacks. God, she looks fantastic.

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra sounds just as surprised to see her as Alicent feels.

“Rhaenyra… are you… staying here?” Alicent manages, approaching the sink and resting her clutch on the counter as she eyes her reflection. She dabs delicately at where her mascara is slightly smudged from her teary eyes earlier, though she fears it may be in vain if she’s going to be speaking to Rhaenyra.

“I am, yeah.” Alicent’s heart pangs considering the last time Rhaenyra was in California they had been living together. Now, they were worlds apart.

Alicent still can’t believe she’s here. Standing beside her, looking as gorgeous as the last time Alicent saw her. It’s more than she deserves. “I didn’t think you’d make it this year, I was surprised to see you in the audience. How’s Viserys?”

“Stable enough for me to leave the country,” Rhaenyra answers, turning and leaning with her back against the counter, turning to look at Alicent properly. “Maybe I should have, but I couldn’t let myself miss this. I had a feeling.”

“I didn’t,” Alicent scoffs. “I was passed over for everything else, I only assumed as much would be the same for this.”

“You never do have quite enough faith in yourself,” Rhaenyra says before hanging her head low. A silence passes between them and Alicent knows she’s running out of time. “Look—”

“I’m sorry,” Alicent gets out before Rhaenyra can beat her to the punch. She allows herself to take a step closer, for the gap between them to lessen slightly. “The way I ended things was terrible, Rhaenyra, you deserved—well, you didn’t deserve to get broken up with at all. I mean, things with your father, I should have been there for you, but I made it about myself and I’m sorry. And the fact that you left him to come be here for me… you’re so much more than I deserve, Rhaenyra and you deserve to be with someone who can see past their own nose.”

“Are you trying to break up with me again?” Rhaenyra asks, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Alicent opens her mouth to say something, but pauses. She feels her phone buzz in her clutch—likely a text from Marcie asking her where the hell she is. “I have—a carpet, the afterparty—I don’t know, Rhaenyra. I just know that you shouldn’t have been alone during all of this and I can’t change that, but I can apologize for it over and over again. You don’t have to say anything, I just—I have to go.”

She doesn’t let Rhaenyra get another word in before she’s leaving the bathroom, once again dabbing at her eyes as she meets Marcie at the car. The happiness from earlier is still burning low in her stomach, but the guilt is slowly creeping in. Rhaenyra had flown here for her. And Alicent was running from her yet again.

“Alicent, we’ve got to go,” Marcie is telling her, trying to usher her into the car, but Alicent is frozen.

“I’ll be right back,” Alicent says before she can stop herself. She turns on her heel despite Marcie’s yelling. She’s been late to so many red carpets in her life, what’s one more?

She finds Rhaenyra just as she’s coming out of the bathroom and the woman’s eyes widen as Alicent comes back into her view.

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra breathes out, “I thought you had to go.”

“I wasn’t done yet,” Alicent heaves, trying to steady her breaths. “I love you, Rhaenyra, and I want to be there for you. I know it’s almost certainly too late, but I—”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence because Rhaenyra grabs her by the waist and kisses her. Alicent gasps into it, relishing in the taste of Rhaenyra on her lips once more. She’d never forgotten it, not in their months apart. She dreamed of having Rhaenyra this close again, thinking it would never happen—understanding if it never did. But they’re here and it is happening and Alicent can hardly believe it.

“Rhaenyra—” Alicent breathes out in between kisses.

“Don’t, we don’t have to,” Rhaenyra shakes her head, leaning in so she can kiss Alicent again. “I just missed you.”

Alicent gasps as Rhaenyra’s fingers dig into her waist, keeping their chests pressed together as she kisses Alicent again and again. Alicent knows they need to talk—that if anything left of this relationship can be salvaged, this isn’t the way to do it, and yet she can’t stop herself. She missed Rhaenyra—her body missed Rhaenyra.

“Show me how much then,” Alicent says, giving into her deepest desires. Her body craves Rhaenyra, it always has. Rhaenyra pulls away from her, keeping a hand on her wrist and guiding her to the elevator. It’s a short ride and Alicent is itching to get her hands on Rhaenyra. She’s so close for the first time in so long and maybe she shouldn’t be doing this, but she’s sick of telling herself no.

“You thanked me in your speech,” Rhaenyra says as she tugs Alicent down the hallway, sliding her keycard with shaking hands. She has Alicent up against the door in seconds, locking it behind the two of them as her lips find Alicent’s neck. She throws her head back with a sigh, listening to Rhaenyra mutter against her neck, “I couldn’t believe you did that. I fell in love with you all over again.”

Alicent could cry. She kisses Rhaenyra instead, pushing the thoughts further down as she settles for the taste of Rhaenyra’s tongue. Her hands roam Alicent’s thighs, sliding up beneath the short fabric of her dress, not quite drifting where Alicent really wants her. Her entire body is aflame, Rhaenyra’s touch burning a trail of light on her skin.

“You’re going to be late,” Rhaenyra whispers in her ear, touch featherlight as her fingers brush against the spot of her underwear where Alicent is beginning to soak through. Alicent whines, hands tangling in Rhaenyra’s hair and tugging. It’s all so familiar yet foreign all at once. Alicent doesn’t know what to make of it.

“I don’t care,” Alicent breathes out and she means it. The world stops when she has Rhaenyra in her arms and she’s all she can care about right now. Everything in her is crying out for Rhaenyra to touch her. She already made it to the important part of the night (and won)—the afterparty is nothing more than an afterthought to her now.

Rhaenyra steps back, a hand loose around Alicent’s waist as she pulls them closer to the bed. The sheets are still rumpled from this morning—Rhaenyra never makes the bed, something Alicent tries to be mad at but only found endearing when they were living together. Alicent hikes her own dress up to her hips as Rhaenyra climbs back onto the bed, propping herself up on her elbows as she watches Alicent. She tugs her underwear down, the soaked fabric slipping over her Versace pumps as they fall to the floor.

She joins Rhaenyra on the bed, the woman below her gasping and reaching for her hips, desperately pulling her on top until her thighs straddle Rhaenyra’s hips. They sit there for a moment, catching their breath. Alicent braces herself with one hand against the mattress, the other caressing Rhaenyra’s face softly. There’s so much she needs to say and yet she can’t bring herself to say any of it right now. Rhaenyra’s fingers dig into her thighs and Alicent needs her closer. She grinds her hips against Rhaenyra, finally getting some of the friction her body craves as Rhaenyra guides her movements.

Rhaenyra sits up further, drawing Alicent closer as her hands linger near her aching wetness, brushing against the crease of her thigh and making Alicent gasp. She lets her head fall against Rhaenyra’s shoulder as Rhaenyra’s fingers first make contact with her swollen cl*t. She gasps into the silk of her shirt, bringing her hands up so she can unbutton it further, pushing the shirt down her shoulders so she can feel Rhaenyra’s skin against hers. Rhaenyra presses a kiss to her temple as she holds her, fingers dancing around her cl*t and applying just the sort of pressure she needs.

“God, I need you,” Alicent breathes out, her words sounding foreign even to herself as her brain fogs over and all she can think is Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra. Her legs shake as she struggles to hold herself up, bringing her head back so she can kiss Rhaenyra hungrily. Rhaenyra brings her fingers down to Alicent’s soaked entrance, teasing slightly as she circles around where Alicent really needs her.

She moans into Rhaenyra’s mouth as she presses into her with two fingers. Alicent stutters and pushes her hips down further, chasing after her touch. Rhaenyra kisses her back just as deeply, f*cking into her at a gentle pace. They work in tandem as Alicent gasps into her lips, hands gripping Rhaenyra’s neck, digging into her flesh hard enough to bruise as pleasure floods her senses.

Rhaenyra adds a third finger and Alicent’s movements stutter as she falls against Rhaenyra, lacking the strength to keep herself up. Rhaenyra has a strong hand on her waist, keeping her steady as her fingers scissor out inside of Alicent, blunt nails scraping against her inner walls and stretching her in a way that burns so good. Alicent breathes in the scent of Rhaenyra—her cologne mixed with her sweat mixed with the messy smears of lipstick against her neck and jaw courtesy of Alicent. Rhaenyra brings her thumb up to tease at Alicent’s cl*t as she continues to f*ck into her and she knows it won’t be long. She can already feel a knot forming in her stomach as she presses her hips down with every pump of Rhaenyra’s fingers.

Rhaenyra hits the spot she knows will destroy Alicent and she cries out, her org*sm catching her off guard as she sinks down onto Rhaenyra’s fingers, hands gripping her shoulders, tracing lines down her back. Rhaenyra pants against her face, one hand coming up to hold the back of Alicent’s head. She peppers kisses alongside her jaw and neck as Alicent comes down, pulling herself off of Rhaenyra’s fingers and trying to catch her breath.

Her hands go for Rhaenyra’s belt, but Rhaenyra stops her with a gentle hand. “I’ve made you late enough already, baby.”

That word from her hoarse voice is almost enough to have Alicent whimpering again, but instead she just stays there with her hand on Rhaenyra’s belt, kissing her again. “Come to the party with me, then. There’s still time to make the carpet.”

“I—” Rhaenyra pulls away, hesitating. “I fly back out to London tonight. I had to get a red-eye so I could get back to production in time.”

“Right.” Alicent crashes back down to reality. “You’re right, I—I forgot you were still filming, I apologize.”

She pulls away and climbs off of the bed. Alicent tugs her dress down and tries to make sense of herself. She bends down and reaches for her underwear, but Rhaenyra’s hands grab her hips before she can, tugging her down into another kiss. She’s caught off guard by it—she’s been caught off guard by everything that’s happened in the last twenty minutes, to be entirely honest. She and Rhaenyra linger in this kiss, words unsaid passing between them.

This time, when she pulls away, Rhaenyra lets her. She doesn’t get to reach for her underwear again, though, because Rhaenyra interrupts her, “Wait, those are ruined, here. I have some of your stuff I was going to give back, I think it got mixed in with mine when I packed up, I was kind of rushing. I was just going to drop it off at your place, I didn’t think I’d run into you.”

Alicent follows Rhaenyra as she hands over a bag filled with some of Alicent’s sweatshirts and a couple pairs of underwear. She smiles softly to herself as she grabs a change of panties, tugging them over her heels and up her legs before restoring her dress to its previous state. Rhaenyra just watches her as she reaches for her clutch, checking her phone to see Marcie letting her know the carpet will be closing at the top of the hour. Alicent still has about fifteen minutes and the event isn’t far, but she knows she needs to get out of here soon.

“We should talk about this,” Alicent begins, trying very hard to resist the way Rhaenyra is laying out on the bed—her hair mussed up, shirt halfway down her shoulders leaving a healthy expanse of her chest exposed. Alicent has never felt weaker in her life.

Rhaenyra sits up, clamoring to the edge of the bed as she looks up at Alicent. She hesitates for a moment before she stands, her hand finding Alicent’s waist. Alicent breathes a heady sigh as Rhaenyra’s forehead rests against hers. She breathes her in as deeply as she can, not sure when she’ll have her this close again. If she’ll have her this close again.

“We’ll talk when you aren’t running late and I don’t have a plane to catch,” Rhaenyra whispers, kissing Alicent gently on the forehead. “I’m proud of you, Alicent. You deserved the win tonight, don’t convince yourself otherwise. I’m glad I got to see it.”

Alicent looks up at her with wide, wet eyes. “You don’t hate me?”

Rhaenyra shakes her head. “I couldn’t if I tried. Go, we’re both going to be late at this rate.”

Alicent nods, even though leaving this hotel room is the last thing she wants to do. She checks her hair in the mirror, running her fingers through it as Rhaenyra watches her. Rhaenyra grabs Alicent by the chin, rubbing a smear of lipstick off of her skin with a small smile. She nods towards the door and Alicent wants to kiss her again, but she holds back. She relishes in the feeling of Rhaenyra’s hand on her skin, turning her face and nuzzling into her palm briefly, kissing the skin there.

She leaves the hotel room with Rhaenyra still standing there, her heart still pulsing in her chest. She sends a text to Marcie letting her know she’s heading down to the car in a vain attempt to catch the carpet. A million thoughts race through her mind—some of them on the award she won tonight, most of them about Rhaenyra. But none of it matters. Rhaenyra is going back to London. And Alicent has somewhere to be.

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

Alicent meets Mysaria for coffee the next morning. Sunglasses rest low on her nose, her impending hangover from the afterparty the night before causing a dull roar to be ever present in her mind, made worse only by the sunlight streaming in through the windows. The television in the background of the cafe has When Harry Met Sally playing on mute. Alicent groans—thinking about friends falling in and out of love right now makes her sick. All she can think about right now is Rhaenyra on a plane back to London without her.

“Look, you’ve always been more her friend than mine,” Alicent levels with her, sipping espresso even though she knows it’ll only make her head and stomach feel worse. In the back of her mind, she can’t stop thinking about how it felt to have Rhaenyra close again—how willing Rhaenyra had been to take her in her arms. “So, I’m very grateful you have not completely kicked me to the curb. That being said, I am going to tell you something that Rhaenyra will probably tell you once you’re back in London, but I need to get it off my chest and I was able to reach you before I reached my therapist.”

“Speaking of, I’m really glad you’re getting back to therapy regularly. These flights back and forth were starting to get expensive,” Mysaria teases, taking a sip of her iced latte. Alicent watches with dead eyes as the ice swirls around in her cup, drops of condensation forming in the warm air of early spring. “But seriously, that’s a big thing and I’m proud of you. Now, what is this dire thing you need to tell me?”

“Rhaenyra and I slept together,” Alicent admits with a heady sigh, downing the rest of her espresso and having flashbacks to the shots she was taking last night. It’s taking everything in her not to hop on a flight over the ocean, but she has no idea if that’s even what Rhaenyra wants. They didn’t get a moment to breathe and talk to each other—not that Alicent is complaining about what happened, not in the slightest.

Mysaria pauses her stirring, the ice in her drink going still. “You… when?”

“In the thirty minutes between me winning an Oscar and me attending the afterparty,” she explains. “It wasn’t planned, we just ran into each other after the ceremony and—and it just happened. But now she’s back in London and we still haven’t talked about anything with the two of us, not really.”

“Okay,” Mysaria says, settling with the information. “Well, at least you know the passion is still there?”

“Please don’t joke,” Alicent scoffs, though she turns her head to hide her budding smile, pushing her sunglasses further up onto her face. “But seriously—what if we’ve ruined everything? I’ve ruined everything?”

Alicent sighs and she can feel Mysaria’s pitying look boring a hole into the side of her face. She looks around the cafe, her eyes catching the end of the movie on the screen. The New Year’s scene— the scene. Alicent groans internally. She had spent New Year’s alone. But Rhaenyra had flown out when she really needed her most and they weren’t even together. Alicent doesn’t know if it’s possible to repay such a thing. It’s not like she even has anything tying her down in Los Angeles right now—she’s all clear until filming starts in the fall. She just needs to know that it would be okay. A confirmation she hasn’t been given.

“Alicent, I’m going to say this as nicely as I possibly can, but Rhaenyra has been in love with you for what is probably almost twenty years now, you could spit on her and tell her to die and she’d still probably let you come running back. Maybe a character flaw of hers, but that’s neither here nor there,” Mysaria explains with a tone that’s nothing more than blasé at best. She returns to stirring her coffee, taking the occasional sip. Alicent picks absentmindedly at the pastry in front of her—a slice of banana nut bread that had looked good in the case, but she quickly lost interest the more her stomach began to turn with the conversation. “I’m not saying this to tell you to go running and that you’ve done nothing wrong ever, that I can’t comment on if I intend to remain a neutral party between the two of you. That being said, I think you need to figure out what you actually want and need from her before you go reconciling because communicating that would go a lot longer than some grand romantic gesture where you pretend everything is fine and you can just go back to normal when that’s not the truth. God, this is way too many words for how hungover I am.”

“I thank you for your service,” Alicent grumbles, plucking off a small piece of the bread and putting it in her mouth. Her stomach groans for food yet simultaneously seems determined to reject anything she throws at it, so she figures small bites might trick it into keeping something down. “I don’t want to just get back with her and pretend nothing happened, I want to be better for her, you know? She’s all alone taking care of Viserys and that’s my fault, that’s something I have to reckon with on my own. I’ve already apologized, but we got kind of… sidetracked. So, I still have no idea how she really feels about it all.”

“I have a great way for you to find out,” Mysaria offers with a cheeky grin, sucking the rest of her drink loudly down her straw until Alicent rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t make that face. I’m not saying the grand romantic gesture of flying to London would hurt. So long as there’s an honest conversation at the end of it.”

Alicent gnaws on her bottom lip, arms crossed against her chest and contemplating. No one should make decisions this large so early while so hungover, but Alicent is dying to see Rhaenyra again. To have that conversation they need and get this sorted out. Ending things was a mistake—Alicent realized being entirely separate from her only made the yearning for her worse. It’s strange to think this time last year she had been celebrating her divorce, none the wiser to what would come. How easy it had been to be without Rhaenyra for ten years, but now they go a few months and Alicent begins to lose her mind entirely. It’s pathetic, maybe, but at least she’s willing to admit that.

“I feel like we’re just going in circles,” Alicent mutters absent-mindedly, more to herself than to Mysaria. “Eleven years ago, we sleep together, we fight, we don’t talk. Now, we sleep together, we fight, we don’t talk.”

“Except you weren’t just sleeping together, you were dating, and you have been talking. She flew to Los Angeles while her father is on his deathbed just because she had a feeling you might win an Oscar. I’d call that more than talking, actually, it’s a rather romantic gesture for someone who dumped her over the phone.”

“I sound horrible.”

Mysaria shrugs. “I think we’re all allowed to have our horrible moments every now and then. It makes us human.”

Alicent groans, running a hand through her hair and pushing it up with her glasses. “It is far too early for you to be philosophical with me. I know I should just go there, I have time now, but just—what if it’s not what she wants? What if she’s done with me and last night was just some f*cked up goodbye?”

Mysaria just gives her a long look. “I need you to be serious. It’s Rhaenyra we’re talking about here.”

Deep down, somewhere in the pit of her snarling stomach, Alicent knows Mysaria is right. No matter what, Rhaenyra would probably forgive her. Just like Alicent would for Rhaenyra—just like she’s trying to. Not even trying, she thinks somewhere in the back of her mind, she already has. Julia’s comments about grief stayed with her—the two of them had shared the grief of losing their mothers as girls, but something with Alicent’s distance from her own father had prohibited her from seeing the grief Rhaenyra is experiencing currently. She was blinded by her own frustration and hatred for her own father while running from the grief of her mother that haunts her still. Grief, grief, grief—the ender of all things.

“Am I an insane woman if I book a flight to London?” Alicent finally asks, her mind feeling clear for the first time all morning.

“You’re on Oscar winner,” Mysaria teases, “do whatever the f*ck you want. Go get the girl, figure your sh*t out, and do it. If that’s what you want, Alicent, then do it. Worst that can happen is she says no, breaks your heart, and you fly back home and forget about it.”

Alicent smiles softly at this, her expression saddened as she thinks about Rhaenyra’s potential rejection of her. She thinks of the realization she had when she saw Rhaenyra in the crowd as she accepted her award last night—a part of her is always going to love Rhaenyra. There’s no forgetting about it, no matter what happens. That’s what Mysaria doesn’t know. There’s no going back for Alicent, not anymore.

“I’ll figure this out once my head stops pounding,” Alicent resolves with a sigh. Mysaria chuckles and raises her empty cup in a silent toast.

Alicent stares at the flight listings for the day. She scrolls endlessly even though it’s not like any of them are less affordable than the other. Normally, she would have Marcie or her assistant book something like this, but if she sends them a text then it’s done. Here, she can contemplate. There is a non-zero chance that Alicent completely humiliates herself and makes an absolute laughingstock of herself by showing up at Rhaenyra’s door unannounced. There is also that smaller chance, the chance screaming at Alicent from the deepest pits of her aching heart, that Rhaenyra opens her arms to Alicent. That they can talk this through and things will be okay. Alicent just needs to make the move.

She books the flight.

Five minutes later, she presses her phone to her ear as she calls Marcie, frantically packing a suitcase since she has to be at the airport by tonight. “Marcie, would you mind letting Shelby’s team know I’ll be in London for the foreseeable future until filming starts? Or, maybe not that long, jury is still out, but for now, I’ll be in London. I’ll give you the hotel I’m staying at so mail can be forwarded, but I’m flying out tonight so I needed to let you know.”

“London?” Marcie asks, her voice laced with a knowing lilt. “Feeling like taking a last minute vacation before clocking back into a new project or…”

“You know me and my vacations,” Alicent hums, carefully folding her clothes before placing them. She has no clue how long she’ll be staying—a while, hopefully, if things go well—but she can always have her assistant pack more bags for her and ship them over as needed. “I’ll keep you updated on how long I plan to be gone.”

“Good luck,” Marcie muses before hanging up the phone and Alicent scoffs, rolling her eyes with a slight smile as she tosses her phone to the bedsheets before returning to her packing. Her heart pulses in her chest, anxious with what might come in the next few hours. Her life has already fallen apart—romantically, that is. Everything else seems to be going almost scarily well, if the newly engraved Oscar on her shelf is anything to show for it. Yet, it all feels null and void without Rhaenyra. Seeing her in the audience the other night had been everything—the happiest she had felt in months. It was time to stop dealing in phone calls and sparse text messages. It was time to do something about it.

If it didn’t work out, Alicent was just going to have to learn to deal with it. At least she’d have tried. She zips up her suitcase with a satisfied huff, her nerves tingling in her fingertips. The non-stop flight she got is going to be a long one and she’ll land in the middle of the night meaning checking into a hotel is going to be nearly impossible. Mysaria gave her the key to her place just in case she needed somewhere to go—something Alicent may have to take her up on at least for the night. Though knowing her, she would make an attempt to bang down Rhaenyra’s door at two in the morning.

She stares at her packed suitcase for a long moment. She doesn’t have to be at the airport for another couple of hours, but she’s already too antsy to do anything but think about going to the airport. Oh, this is going to drive her crazy. Should she even be doing this? It’s not too late to cancel. Except that it kind of is. It’s not like she couldn’t afford the cancellation fees, but she’s already told Marcie to forward her mail. Really, canceling now would just inconvenience her and Alicent hates to inconvenience Marcie. So it’s really in her best interest to just go.

Alicent calls Mysaria. “Am I making a mistake?”

“Did you book the flight?” Mysaria asks in return, knowing Alicent far too well for her liking. “You booked the flight, didn’t you?”

“Of course, I booked the f*cking flight,” Alicent groans, flopping down onto her bed beside the packed suitcase with an exaggerated huff. She drums her fingers against her stomach, contemplating all of the decisions that led her to this moment. “I’m so obsessively, crazily in love with her and seeing her again has done nothing but make it worse and I just—I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t forgive me, Mysaria.”

Mysaria sighs for a moment, clearly trying to figure out how to talk Alicent off the ledge she’s found herself on. “Look, Alicent, it would suck. It would feel like sh*t and you would probably be miserable for a very long time, but it’s not the end of the world. I know it just feels like it is, but it’s not. I don’t want to get your hopes up by saying that you probably don’t even have to worry about it, because you might. You might have to worry about it and that might be what happens, but you know what? You’ll get through it. But it could be something really good. Hold onto that instead of acting like the world has already fallen to pieces.”

“How did you get so good at this?” Alicent releases a heavy breath, playing absentmindedly with a lock of her hair.

“I act in a lot of very dramatic films with very good advice in them,” Mysaria offers, a light chuckle falling from her lips. “Take a breath, Alicent. You can’t control what’ll happen, so stop freaking out about stuff that hasn’t happened yet.”

“I know, I know. Thank you. I’ll text you when I get to London.”

“Bye, darling,” Mysaria hums before hanging up the phone. Alicent lets her phone fall to her chest and lets herself deflate for a moment. She has about two hours before she has to go to the airport, so she should at least make an effort to be productive.

A scalding hot shower and brief cleaning of her kitchen later, Alicent finds herself at the airport. She’s pacing around the gate, feeling like a madwoman. The sun sets behind large windows as Alicent watches planes land and take off every few moments. People going home, going places they’ve never been before, embarking on something new. Alicent feels as if she is doing all of those things all at once. She sets sunglasses high on her face as if that will assist in concealing her identity—thankfully her flight is late in the evening, so there’s a less chance of her being recognized the way she would in broad daylight, but there is always still a chance.

Everything moves sluggishly and Alicent begins to think the anxiety flush in her mind is slowing time down around her. Security takes ages, boarding takes ages—every single act feels as though she is taking each step through sludges of molasses, slowing down everything around her until the idea of moving is utterly impossible. Even so, she winds up on the plane, a book in her hands and headphones in, though she knows she won’t be able to focus on a single word, nor will she be able to sleep her way through this red-eye. Nevertheless, she will do her best.

Alicent jolts awake as the plane hits turbulence. Blearily, she checks the flight path on the screen in front of her to find they are almost in London. Whatever anxiety had managed to subside long enough for her to fall asleep is fully realized now as her leg bounces against the carpeted floor of the plane. She presses her head against the headrest, trying to ground herself in surroundings and remind herself to take deep and steady breaths. Her hands wring together, itching to pick at her cuticles but she doesn’t want to be a mess when she sees Rhaenyra.

She wants to be strong for her, to be what she needs right now. Alicent won’t be able to do that if she’s tearing herself apart with nerves. The plane approaches London quicker than she would like and before she knows it, the seatbelt light is on overhead and her heart thumps rapidly in her chest. It should be about two in the morning when they touch down, if she did her math correctly, though they’ll announce local time when they land regardless. Realistically, she should go to Mysaria’s place and settle down for the night, but part of her is itching to go straight to Rhaenyra. She already knows Rhaenyra is staying at her father’s London estate (because, after all these months, Rhaenyra has still forgotten to turn off her location—Alicent is wondering if she clings too tightly to the implications of this in her last whispers of hope).

Alicent twirls Mysaria’s key in her hands as she deplanes, her stomach tying itself in knots with each thundering step. Most of the passengers exiting the plane are yawning, just waking up from naps or ready to crash at their flats for the remainder of the morning, but Alicent is wide awake. Wide awake and entirely unable to stop thinking. She summons a car before she can think too much about it, grateful to meet the fresh air of a somewhat quiet airport though it does little to quell her racing mind.

With her bag in her hand, she steps out onto the cool street. With the year muddling into spring, there’s no more snow on the ground, though everything still has that trace of damp dreariness that winter seems to cast out and weigh down the world with. Alicent drums her fingers along the handle of her suitcase as she waits for her car, tapping her foot against the ground as she resists the urge to devolve into a full-blown panic attack. She still isn’t sure she’s making the right decision, but now it’s two in the morning and she’s in London and there is little space to turn back. If she really wanted to, she could book another flight first thing in the morning and never tell Rhaenyra she was here. The fact of the matter is, though, she doesn’t want to. She wants Rhaenyra.

Her car pulls up and the driver helps Alicent with her bags with a smile. His eyes seem to sparkle with recognition, but if he knows who she is, he says nothing. He must understand the sort of discretion required when one is exiting an airport in the early hours of the morning. She grips Mysaria’s set of keys tightly in her hand as she sits in the car, scraping the metal gently against her palm, watching sights that once might have been familiar pass by the window. It’s been ages since she’s been back—she should visit Gwayne while she’s here, he’d kill her if he knew she was in town without saying anything. A thought passes through her mind of visiting her father. Just to see what he might think of her if he saw her now. Maybe the Academy Award she came home with would soften his once too harsh view of her. Not that it matters now. There are other things to focus on.

The drive isn’t a long one, but it gives Alicent enough time to devour herself within her own mind. The properties of London loom as if they were gothic mansions rather than small townhomes squeezed so tightly together not a co*ckroach could fit between the two. Everything looks different as the clock creeps towards three in the morning—once innocuous sights now darkened with dread and dripping rot as Alicent begins to feel her anxiety creeping beneath her skin. She wonders if this is a mistake. Though she has seemingly made enough already, it seems one more will be survivable, should that be the case.

Alicent thanks the driver as she exits the car, grabbing her own suitcase this time and rejecting his offer to help. She steps onto the curb, hearing the car pull off behind her—the rev of the engine akin to a nail being hammered into coffin wood, sealing it shut forevermore. She takes a steady breath, running her hands through her hair as she tries to calm herself.

She carefully takes each step, concrete beneath her boots silently grounding her to the moment more and more. With a quiet sigh and the quaint acknowledgement of herself passing a point of no return, Alicent raises her fist and knocks on the wood in front of her. The chances of this being successful are slim, but Alicent will at least wait a bit to see if maybe the door will open.

Surprisingly, after very little time at all, Alicent hears footsteps. Her heart perks up, attention piquing as she hears the lock slide out of place. The door opens and all of a sudden—Rhaenyra stands right there. Her hair is a mess like she’d been sleeping, eyes rimmed with red. She hardly seems to notice at all, her expression giving nothing away.

“Apologies, I thought you were the coron—Alicent,” Rhaenyra finally seems to realize just who is darkening her door at three in the morning. She stands straight up, looking Alicent up and down with an unreadable expression. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see—did you say coroner? Why would the coroner be here?” Alicent asks, realization dawning on her. She was too late.

Rhaenyra sniffs, seeming to kick into action where she was previously frozen, eyes searching anywhere but Alicent as she explains, “They took him about an hour ago and—and I thought maybe they had some more questions, and—”

Alicent just watches as tears begin to well in Rhaenyra’s eyes, her face gaunt with grief as Alicent realizes just how this night has gone. She doesn’t think when she steps forward and pulls Rhaenyra into her arms without another word. It takes less than a second for Rhaenyra to break. She sobs bleakly into Alicent’s shoulder, chest heaving as her arms wrap around Alicent’s waist, gripping her tightly as if scared she’s going to run away again. She won’t, though—Alicent knows this and she’s willing to spend the rest of her life proving it to Rhaenyra if she must.

They don’t speak as Alicent steps over the threshold, quietly closing the door behind her without making Rhaenyra break away from her. Alicent feels the weakness radiating from Rhaenyra, letting the two of them slide down until they rest on the hardwood floor with Alicent’s back against the door. She pulls Rhaenyra into her lap as best she can, bringing a hand up to caress the back of her head as Rhaenyra catches her breath with her head against Alicent’s chest. Alicent is silent, cooing gently as she runs her fingers through Rhaenyra’s short hair, feeling its softness even as it's tangled from the distress of the day.

“What—what are you doing here?” Rhaenyra finally says after a long silence passes between the two of them. Her voice is hoarse from the tears, scratching at her throat.

Alicent hums softly, brushing a lock of hair out of Rhaenyra’s face. “We can talk about that later. There are more important things to deal with right now than me. I’m here for you, that’s what matters.”

Rhaenyra sniffles, burying her face further in the crook of Alicent’s neck. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” Alicent mutters so softly she can barely feel it pass through her lips. “I won’t.”

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

Alicent isn’t sure how long they sit there. It must be nearing four in the morning by the time Rhaenyra settles down enough for the possibility of going to bed to arise. She stands, leaving Rhaenyra slumped against the door as she sheds her coat and hangs it on the rack before holding out a hand to the woman in front of her. Rhaenyra looks up at her with red-rimmed, exhausted eyes as she takes Alicent’s hand in her own, her face flushed with the heat of crying, tears dried in lines down her fair cheeks. Alicent hauls her into a standing position, brushing short locks of blonde hair out of her face where they’ve previously gone awry. She purses her lips in a sad attempt at a smile as she looks at Rhaenyra.

“It’s late,” Alicent mutters, allowing herself the gentle indulgence of her hand resting along Rhaenyra’s jaw for a brief, fleeting moment. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

Rhaenyra nods, her movements slow as if it has been days since she last slept. Alicent wonders if she’ll be able to sleep at all, though she supposes they will soon find out. She takes Rhaenyra’s hand in hers and leads her up the stairs—an action familiar to her and yet now made foreign by the influence of time and circ*mstance. Even so, she follows Alicent without complaint. Alicent finds the room Rhaenyra usually stays in when she’s here—suitcases half-unpacked littering the floor even though she’s been here for months. At another time, Alicent would find such a thing funny, but there is little room for humor here.

Pushing past her through the doorway, Rhaenyra sighs wearily as she searches through her items. Alicent’s own suitcase is still by the door and she curses herself for not having brought it with her. Her first thought had merely been to get Rhaenyra up and settled, her own self being an afterthought right now. She watches as Rhaenyra begins to get into something more comfortable for sleeping, stepping out of the doorway to go get her own bag and figure out where she’ll be staying in the house. She knows the estate well enough to find a room—she had been here a handful of times when she and Rhaenyra were teenagers, though the house feels darkened now. A certain emptiness to an estate that had once held so much warmth.

“Where are you going?” Rhaenyra now asks, pulling a t-shirt over her head as she stops, looking at where Alicent is still half lingering in the doorway, moments from departing. Her eyes are wide, curious and almost scared.

Alicent clears her throat, straightening her stance. “To get my bag and find a room to settle in so you can have some peace, I suppose.”

“All right, then,” Rhaenyra nods, straightening out her shirt and looking away, wiping the top of her mouth just barely. Before Alicent can leave, though, Rhaenyra looks up once more, telling her, “Bring your bag in here.”

She stops in her steps, one hand braced against the wood of the door frame as her brow furrows at Rhaenyra. “Are you sure?”

She knows it’s not exactly the time and place for such a question. Things with the two of them can wait as long as Rhaenyra needs them to, Alicent has already made her peace with that, and yet she cannot help the question falling from her lips regardless. This is something she is going to have to figure out as she goes—all that truly matters to her right now is making sure Rhaenyra is all right.

Rhaenyra certainly doesn’t look it—now that she’s not crying, her face is gaunt and her voice rough with exhaustion. The grief surely hit her long before Viserys actually took his final breath and it shows in the bags beneath her eyes and the uncharacteristic slouch of her shoulders. It pains Alicent greatly to see her like this.

At her question, Rhaenyra just nods in a fashion so miniscule, Alicent hardly sees it. But she does. So, she heads back down the stairs, quick enough to be back before Rhaenyra changes her mind. With her bag in hand, she returns, setting it beside one of Rhaenyra’s before kicking off her boots.

“What were you doing here?” Rhaenyra asks, still standing stock in the dim light of the room. Alicent shrugs off her hoodie to reveal the thin tank top underneath, tossing it on top of her unopened suitcase.

“We can get into that later,” is all Alicent gives her as an answer, shimmying out of her jeans, but not bothering to get into anything else since it’s uncharacteristically warm in the house. The muggy nights of an early summer will do that to even the most haunted of estates. She watches as Rhaenyra’s trace distantly over her form as if trying to remap her out after so long apart. For a moment, it’s almost hard to believe the events that followed the Oscars ceremony really happened. They had seen each other then, of course, though now it is as if Alicent is seeing her in an all new light. “I don’t want to make this an us thing right now. You’ve dealt with enough.”

“Right,” Rhaenyra mutters, absent-mindedly grabbing at the corner of the sheets and flipping them up. When Alicent continues to linger in the doorway, Rhaenyra nods towards the bed. Alicent jolts into action, watching as Rhaenyra climbs into bed and following not long after her. Her heart beats rapidly in her chest and she knows despite the late hour, she won’t be getting any sleep with Rhaenyra so near to her. They settle in, facing each other on their sides. Rhaenyra’s short locks brush up against the pillow. Even in the dark, Alicent can trace the lines of her face with her eyes, the same face she’s known for so long. “Did I dream you?”

Alicent shakes her head. “I’m here.”

Rhaenyra just nods, turning around so her back faces Alicent. For a moment, Alicent wonders if she’s messed something up. Until Rhaenyra pushes back so that her back is close enough to Alicent’s front for her to get the message. A small ghost of a smile tugs at Alicent’s lips as she wraps an arm around Rhaenyra’s waist, pulling her close until the two of them are properly touching. Her chin rests against Rhaenyra’s shoulder, breathing in the lingering scent of her cologne with a content sigh. God, Alicent is so in love with her it hurts. She can’t believe she was ever able to give this up. She had to have known it wasn’t going to work.

Eventually, the late hour gets to her and Alicent falls asleep to the steady breathing of Rhaenyra against her.

In the morning, the bed is cold. Alicent furrows her brow, squinting at the sun streaming in through the curtains. She searches for Rhaenyra first—heading down the stairs and following the smell of fresh coffee in the kitchen. There she is with glasses perched on her nose as she reviews a stack of papers on kitchen table, two cups of coffee. One half-drank, one prepared and waiting—still steaming.

“Thanks,” Alicent mutters, settling down across from her at the table as she reaches for the cup. “What can I help with?”

Rhaenyra sighs, poring over the forms in front of her, looking marginally more put together than she was last night, but still disheveled from exhaustion and grief. She’s thrown half of her short locks back into a makeshift bun, though most of it is falling out considering she hasn’t let it get long while she’s been here. “Most everything is already settled. There does need to be a formal reading of the will with his lawyer, but everything should go to me since, as far as I’m aware, he never had any other children. The funeral is already planned and should be ready to go in the next couple of days, I just need to have the memorial notices printed and—f*ck, I need to send the obituary to the paper, they’ll want to have it sooner rather than later especially since news of his death will likely be out soon and—”

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent breathes softly, noting how business-like Rhaenyra’s tone is. It is as if she is trying to distance herself from it. She’s turned herself into a PR manager rather than a daughter grieving her father. Rhaenyra pauses, looking up at her with a confused expression. “Breathe. Not everything has to be dealt with today. The important things are handled. Let me deal with the little things. What can I do?”

Rhaenyra looks at her and sighs, letting her hands fall loose against the table. Eventually, she relents, thumbing through the pages and handing one over to Alicent—it looks like a mock-up of a memorial invitation. A younger Viserys smiles back at her, not much younger, just to a point where he looked healthy. Wise and healthy. He had always been kind to Alicent, kind as a father can be to his daughter’s friend, though there was always the lingering fear Alicent carried for him as a result of her fractured relationship with his own father. Still, the photo makes him look like a kind man.

“Can you scan that and send it over to the company email scribbled on the back? They have everything else for the order they need, they just needed the funeral date,” Rhaenyra explains, looking wearier by the second. According to the mock-up, the funeral will be in three days time. “God, I need to write a eulogy still.”

This causes Alicent to look up, “You hadn’t started one?”

Rhaenyra shrugs. “It was… weird to start one while he was still breathing. It was like if I never started, then maybe it wouldn’t happen and I wouldn’t need it anymore. It’s stupid.”

Her dismissal causes Alicent to soften, sympathetic eyes meeting Rhaenyra’s tired gaze. “It’s not stupid. You’re grieving. I’ll take care of this, you just relax. Drink your coffee. Have you eaten?”

“Are you going to cook for me?” Rhaenyra asks with a scoff. There’s a humor in her tone that feels all too familiar. For a moment, everything is okay again.

Alicent huffs out a laugh, standing up from the kitchen table with her coffee cup in hand, reaching out a hand to ruffle the mess of Rhaenyra’s hair. Rhaenyra ducks and bats her hand away with a smile, catching Alicent’s wrist in her grip and causing her to stop in her tracks. The air is weighted between them, the laughter of the kitchen fading into something else entirely. Alicent attempts to swallow the lump in her throat.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Rhaenyra whispers, like it’s a secret she’s too afraid to say out loud. Or perhaps like a wish she fears won’t come true. Either way, the words settle heavily in Alicent’s stomach.

She just shakes her head, letting Rhaenyra’s grasp linger and making no moves to free herself. “I’m just sorry it took me so long.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out through a random journalist,” Rhaenyra retorts with a sigh, shifting her grip so she can squeeze Alicent’s hand affectionately. It all feels too soft, too domestic for how estranged the two of them were. Alicent isn’t sure she feels she’s earned such an occurrence. The sun casts gilded light across Rhaenyra’s strong features, highlighting her weariness but also the softness of her smile as her gaze lands on Alicent’s face.

Alicent just shakes her head, looking down at where Rhaenyra’s hand holds hers. “I’m past that. Far past it. I just want to be here for you, however that may be. As a friend, as a lover—I don’t care.”

“You do care,” Rhaenyra scoffs, dropping Alicent’s hand. She mourns the loss of warmth immediately, her spine going cold at the flippant tone of Rhaenyra’s voice. She seems to catch the shift in Alicent’s expression, amending her statement, “It’s all right that you do. I’d hope you care, all things considered. Look, what happened in Los Angeles—”

“Why don’t we get through everything we have to do with this first?” Alicent cuts her off, motioning to the mock-up still in her clutches. “And we can figure out everything with us later, yeah? We’ll just live in it for a bit while we take care of more pressing matters first.”

Rhaenyra gazes at her for a long moment, lips pursed before she eventually nods. “No, yeah, you’re right. Of course, you’re right. There isn’t much left to do anyway. The lawyer should be here in the afternoon and that’ll get taken care of and—okay. Thank you.”

Feeling daring, Alicent steps back to where Rhaenyra sits at the kitchen table. She caresses the back of Rhaenyra’s head before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. Rhaenrya closes her eyes and sighs where her face is pressed softly against Alicent’s chest. Alicent lets her kiss linger because as much as she knows the conversations about them can be pushed to later, it is impossible to push down her tendency for affection. It is impossible to be Rhaenyra and not yearn to reach, to touch her and tug her into Alicent’s space, to close the gap between them and meld together until they make only one.

“I’ll get this settled and then I’ll go pick us up some breakfast, okay?” Alicent suggests and Rhaenyra nods slightly. With that, Alicent lets go of her and heads into the office with a sigh. Running a hand through her hair, she busies herself with the task she’s been given, anxious to get it done so she can go and get some food in her stomach. In the light of day, Rhaenyra appears much more put together than she was last night, though she wonders how much of it is simply holding herself together out of pure necessity. She wonders what will happen when everything with the memorial and the will is settled and there will be no more tasks to occupy the mind. Alicent doesn’t care what it is—she’ll be there for it all.

With her email sent off, she returns to the kitchen only to see Rhaenyra with her face against the cool wood, eyes closed as her steady breaths fill the quiet room. Alicent quiets her steps as much as she can, running her fingers through Rhaenyra’s hair and pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.

Beneath her, Rhaenyra stirs and Alicent whispers, “Come on, let’s at least get you up to bed. You had a late night, darling.”

Rhaenyra opens her eyes with a quiet sigh, yawning widely before letting Alicent help her up from the table. Alicent gets a hand on her wrist and begins to drag her up the stairs, Rhaenyra a willing yet exhausted participant behind her. Alicent would find it in endearing if she was not so worried about the state of Rhaenyra’s mind.

Once up to the bedroom, Alicent helps her into bed with the same routine as a mother helping a sick child. She ghosts a hand across Rhaenyra’s forehead as if checking her temperature, brushing strands of silver blonde out of the way. “Rest. I’ll get some food that will keep in the fridge for you and wake you up when the attorney arrives.”

Eyes still half-closed, Rhaenyra nods sleepily, a yawn punctuating the act. She looks so young like this—swaddled up in a big t-shirt and sheets, tiredness lacing her light eyes, brow furrowed with an innocence to it. Eventually, she relents, her voice small and careful as she mutters a quiet, “Fine.”

“I’ll be back,” Alicent tells her, though she still lingers in the doorway, one hand braced against the wood as she watches Rhaenyra shift around and settle into bed, becoming less and less visible as she curls up and tugs the sheets over her shoulders.

Able to tell she is still there, Rhaenyra says one last thing before Alicent departs. “I love you, Alicent.”

Alicent startles slightly, nearly tripping over her own foot as she goes to leave yet stops in her tracks. The love was always there with them—that was precisely the problem. Still, Alicent can’t help herself. “I love you, too, Rhaenyra.”

With that, she leaves, sucking in a breath as Alicent makes a fragile attempt to compose herself while heading down the stairs. Putting herself together, she grabs her purse and heads for the front door. When she opens it, the last thing she expects is a slew of photographers and news reporters.

They erupt when they realize just who is leaving the Targaryen estate—not the sole heir of the family herself, but her scandalized ex-girlfriend fresh off an Academy Award win now leaving the house at nine in the morning after no one had any clue she was in London. Marcie might kill her.

“Miss Hightower—Miss Hightower,” they call after her as she parts them as best she can. “What are you doing in London? Reports say Viserys Targaryen died late last night, any comments? How is Rhaenyra holding up?”

Alicent makes a vain attempt to steady her breath as they encroach on her personal space. She can see Rhaenyra’s car parked on the sidewalk, so close yet so far for her to take. The questions turn to white noise in the back of her mind only fueling the stoked anger within her.

“You bloody vultures,” Alicent whips around, rage painted on her face. “A man is dead and his daughter grieving and here you are, camped outside her family home like you’re ready to feast on his f*cking corpse. Get off of her f*cking lawn or I will phone the police. This is private property and all of you are trespassing.”

“Are the two of you back together?” one of them asks, ignoring Alicent’s outburst completely. She has half a mind to rip the camera out of his hand and toss it to the ground. One of them shoves a microphone so close to Alicent’s face it almost hits her. “Did she call you to come here after the death of her father?”

This time, Alicent rips the microphone out of his hands, the cord snapping out of the its port before she throws it to the ground, stomping on it as she continues to walk. The paparazzi curses after her, but she’s already unlocked the car and opened the door, about to step in. She locks eyes with the man one more time, her voice pure vitriol. “Go f*ck yourself. Send the bill to my assistant and go the f*ck home.”

Alicent settles into the car and slams the door shut, ripping away from the curb as fire fuels her veins and manifests into a heavy foot on the gas pedal. She shouldn’t have done that. She should’ve have said any of it. Even if she knows she’s right, she knows it was the right thing to do in terms of morality, she can already see the headlines. ‘Emotional Hightower Actress Assaults Disgruntled Paparazzi.’ She’d be lying if she said she really even gave a sh*t anymore. She just doesn’t want Rhaenyra to have to hear about it and she knows if it makes news that she will.

Alicent sighs, searching for the breakfast place the two of them used to love when they lived here. She can’t fix everything in Rhaenyra’s life right now, but the least she can do is make sure she’s fed. She’s barely made it to the shop when she sees the text from Marcie—call me when you can. She knew this was coming, she only did not think it would be so quick. Standing outside the shop, she lingers to the side, pressing her phone to her ear.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re right,” is how Marcie greets her. “However, an Oscar winner suddenly having a violent streak isn’t exactly a good look. Good for you, though, is that most people hate the paparazzi by nature. Even so, I’ve drafted up a little statement for us to throw on your socials.”

“Do I have to?” Alicent groans, resisting the urge to stomp her foot like a petulant child. “The man is barely cold and they’re already one minute away from banging down her door. It’s sickening. I don’t want to apologize to them. I’ll pay for the damages, but that’s it, Marcie. I’m serious. Her father is dead. The least people can do is have some f*cking compassion.”

Marcie sighs over the phone and Alicent can picture the frustrated expression she likely wears. “Fine, no statement. But I am going to put you on Seth Meyers week after next to talk about America’s Sweetheart and he is almost certainly going to ask you about this so I need you to be polite about it.”

“Two weeks? I’m in London, Marcie.” Alicent goes cold at the thought of leaving Rhaenyra again. She only just got her back and even then, there’s still so much between the two of them that needs to be discussed. She doesn’t want their time to be cut short, not again. Not so soon. “I can’t leave.”

“You’re going to have to. You’ll have to be back in Los Angeles for some early pre-production stuff anyway, so I’m not sure how long you thought your little London getaway was going to last,” Marcie rambles off, her voice stern and condensed as if she were in a rush. After a moment, though, she seems to relent. “Look, I understand why you went and why you need to be there. But this is a pivotal moment in your career, Alicent, and you hired me specifically so you don’t let moments like this go to waste. I’ll get you two tickets to New York for next Thursday. So she has the option to come with you if she would like. Also, when you get a chance, I do need an official comment on your relationship status because you appearing on the doorstep of her London home is getting me a lot of questions I do not know the answer to.”

Alicent thinks about returning to her life. Of Rhaenyra coming with her. Everything with her life and career feels so far away, so unimportant now. All she can think about right now is Rhaenyra asleep in bed waiting for Alicent to return. She thinks of New York—a home untouched by Rhaenyra—and two plane tickets. It could work. She could make it work.

“I’ll get back to you as soon as I can, okay?” Alicent offers, though weariness weighs on her stretched voice.

Even so, it seems to be enough for Marcie. “Fine. Thank you, Alicent.”

The line clicks as it ends and Alicent sits there in the silence for a moment, phone still pressed against her ear as she lets her body decompress. A few deep, steadying breaths later, Alicent feels a bit more normal. She checks her phone for anything from Rhaenyra, but there’s nothing. Desperately, she hopes that means the woman is actually getting some rest like Alicent told her to.

With unanswered questions and anxieties weighing on her tired mind, she enters the stop, putting her back to the world for at least one more moment.