Chapter 2
Rhaenyra - 15 Years Old & Alicent - 25 Years Old
The driveway was slick with packed snow, the kind that crunched underfoot but threatened to send you sliding if you weren’t careful. Rhaenyra had her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets, her backpack slung over one shoulder, and her suitcase trailing behind her as Dany led the way to the front door of the ski house.
She’d been here before—last year—but it still felt intimidating. The sprawling A-frame house stood tall against the forest, its sharp angles softened by the thick snow piled on the roof and the warm glow of the windows. The driveway alone was bigger than her whole backyard back home.
Dany hadn’t shut up about this trip all year. But Rhaenyra knew it wasn’t the skiing that had her stomach in knots as they approached the door. It was who was already inside.
Alicent.
Dany opened the door without knocking—of course, she didn’t need to knock at her own family’s place—and Rhaenyra followed her in, immediately hit with a wave of warm air that smelled faintly like pine and cinnamon. She peeled her gloves off, stuffing them into her jacket pockets, and looked around. The house was quiet, the kind of calm that only existed when everyone hadn’t arrived yet.
“Alicent’s already here,” Dany said over her shoulder as she kicked off her boots. “She came up early to get some work done. You’re gonna love this—she’s been working from the house all week, totally miserable because she can’t figure out the coffee maker.”
Rhaenyra laughed under her breath, more out of nerves than anything else, as she tugged off her boots and set them neatly by the door. Before she could respond, Alicent’s voice floated in from the kitchen.
“Dany?”
Rhaenyra froze for a second, her pulse ticking up as Alicent appeared in the doorway. She was holding a mug of tea, wearing a chunky green sweater and leggings, her hair tied back in a loose braid. Her brown eyes landed on Rhaenyra, and her expression shifted slightly, her smile widening.
“Oh, hey,” Alicent said, her tone casual but warm. “Rhaenyra. Dany hasn’t shut up about you all year. Nice to see you back.”
Rhaenyra’s cheeks immediately flushed, her voice catching in her throat for a second before she managed to reply. “Uh, yeah. Nice to see you too.”
Dany rolled her eyes. “I did not talk about her that much.”
“Yes, you did,” Alicent said lightly, raising an eyebrow at her sister before taking a sip of tea. She leaned against the doorway, her gaze flicking back to Rhaenyra. “You’ve grown a bit, haven’t you? Taller?”
Rhaenyra shrugged awkwardly. “A little, I guess.”
“Hmm,” Alicent hummed, still smiling slightly, before turning back to the kitchen. “Well, you two must be starving after the drive. There’s soup on the stove. Help yourselves.”
“Sweet! I’m starving,” Dany said, already heading for the kitchen.
Rhaenyra stayed rooted to the spot for a moment, watching Alicent’s retreating figure, the sway of her braid, the effortless way she moved. Dany called her name, breaking her out of her daze, and she hurried to follow, her heart still thudding like an idiot in her chest.
Yeah. This was going to be an interesting trip.
///
The dinner table was its usual lively self. The clatter of silverware and warm hum of conversation filled the room as dishes passed from one set of hands to the next. Rhaenyra focused on her plate, carving a neat line through her steak, trying not to think too much about how close Alicent was sitting to her across the table.
“So, Rhaenyra,” Mrs. Hightower began brightly, reaching for the breadbasket, “did that hat I knit for your mom last year help at all? I heard from your dad that the chemo makes her get cold so easily.”
Rhaenyra froze mid-cut. The words rang out so casually, so comfortably, as if they were talking about the weather, and her stomach sank. Her eyes flicked up briefly. Dany kept chewing like she’d heard it a hundred times before. Mr. Hightower didn’t even pause his pour of wine. Everyone at the table clearly already knew. Everyone… except Alicent.
Alicent’s fork hovered in mid-air, her brow furrowing as she turned her head toward her mother. “Chemo?” she asked, her voice soft but sharp enough to cut through the hum of conversation. Her gaze snapped to Rhaenyra, her expression full of questions. “Wait, your mom has—”
Mrs. Hightower filled the silence easily, as if she didn’t even notice the shift in tension. “Oh, Alicent, you must’ve missed it,” she said with a casual wave of her hand. “Rhaenyra’s mom has been dealing with it for years. On and off. She’s a fighter, though.”
Rhaenyra could feel the weight of Alicent’s stare. She didn’t look up. She focused on her plate, the words sticking to her throat like honey. “It’s not a big deal,” she said quietly, cutting a little too hard into her steak.
Alicent didn’t look convinced. “I… I didn’t know,” she said softly, almost to herself. Her voice carried a note of something Rhaenyra couldn’t quite place—guilt, maybe, or surprise. “How long—” she started to ask, then stopped, like she realized mid-sentence it wasn’t her place.
“Since I was little,” Rhaenyra said, trying to keep her voice steady. She looked up then, briefly, meeting Alicent’s wide, searching eyes. “It’s been on and off. We’re kind of used to it.”
“Used to it?” Alicent repeated, more to herself than anyone else, and Rhaenyra didn’t miss the way her grip tightened slightly around her fork.
Mrs. Hightower’s voice broke the moment, her tone light and cheerful as she changed the subject seamlessly. “I’ll have to knit her something else this winter. Maybe a scarf this time.”
“Yeah,” Rhaenyra murmured, nodding politely. “She loved the hat. Thanks again.”
The conversation shifted back to holiday plans and stories from years past, but Rhaenyra felt herself growing hot under the weight of Alicent’s lingering gaze. She didn’t dare look back, afraid of what she’d see there—pity, concern, or worse, that quiet kind of caring Alicent had a way of showing without saying much at all.
///
The snow fell softly around them, clinging to the edges of the hot tub where steam rose up into the cold night air. Rhaenyra leaned her head back, letting the warmth soak into her muscles, her body pleasantly relaxed after a day of skiing. Across from her, Dany was talking about something—college plans, maybe, or a story about her ridiculous chemistry teacher. Rhaenyra was only half-listening, her gaze flicking occasionally to the snow-covered pines surrounding them.
It was peaceful out here, the kind of quiet that settled into your bones. The kind of quiet that let you think, even if you didn’t want to.
Dany splashed a bit of water toward Rhaenyra, breaking her thoughts. “You’re not even listening,” she accused, though her grin softened the words.
“I am,” Rhaenyra lied, smirking. “Something about Mr. Lannister being the worst teacher in Westeros?”
“Close enough,” Dany said, laughing.
The sliding door creaked open, cutting through the moment. Both girls looked up to see Alicent stepping out, wrapped in a thick robe, her arms crossed against the cold. Her hair was pulled into a low, effortless ponytail, and her expression was already set in mild disapproval.
“You two,” she said, her voice laced with the kind of exasperation only an older sister could muster. “Opposite sides of the hot tub. Now.”
Rhaenyra’s cheeks flamed, the warmth of the water doing nothing to hide the rush of blood to her face. “What?” she stammered. “Why?”
Dany rolled her eyes dramatically, slumping back against the edge of the tub. “God, Alicent, seriously? Just because Rhaenyra’s an alpha doesn’t mean we like each other like that. She’s like a sister to me. Like you .”
Alicent blinked, her lips pressing into a thin line as she glanced between the two of them. “Still,” she said, her tone sharp but her gaze softer now as it flicked to Rhaenyra, lingering for just a second too long. “You should—just—space. That’s all.”
Dany groaned. “You’re being weird. Again. Why are you like this?”
“Because I’m your older sister,” Alicent shot back, her tone crisp but edged with a playful smirk. “It’s my job to be annoying and overprotective.”
Rhaenyra sank a little lower into the water, wishing for once she could disappear entirely. She didn’t dare look up, especially not at Alicent. Her heart was already beating too fast, her stomach in knots from the way Alicent had looked at her. It wasn’t pity or annoyance, but something else—something that made her head spin and her chest feel tight.
“Well,” Dany said, clearly ready to brush the whole thing off. “If you’re gonna hover, at least grab us more hot chocolate or something. You’re letting all the cold air in.”
Alicent sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned to head back inside. “Fine,” she called over her shoulder. “But don’t think I’m letting you two off the hook.”
As the door slid shut behind her, Dany shook her head, muttering under her breath. “She’s insufferable.”
Rhaenyra let out a nervous laugh, forcing herself to relax again. “She’s just looking out for you,” she said, though her voice sounded strained even to her own ears.
“Yeah, well, she needs to chill,” Dany replied, reaching over to flick water toward Rhaenyra again. “You’re not going to seduce me, Rhae. Sorry to crush your hopes and dreams.”
Rhaenyra snorted, shoving Dany’s hand away. “God, shut up,” she mumbled, but the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her.
Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of Alicent’s gaze—sharp, protective, and something else she couldn’t quite name—lingering in her mind long after the steam from the hot tub had settled into the night air.
///
The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that settled in after hours of family chaos. Most of the lights were off, save for the faint glow coming from the porch. Alicent, exhausted from a long day of balancing family and work, closed her laptop with a sigh and stretched her arms above her head. The ache in her shoulders reminded her she’d been hunched over her desk for far too long.
She padded through the kitchen in her socks, intending to turn off the porch light and finally get some sleep. But when she glanced out the window, she paused. There, curled up on the cushioned chair in the far corner of the porch, was Rhaenyra, a book balanced in her lap, her head tilted slightly as she read.
Alicent frowned, opening the door just enough to step out. “Rhaenyra,” she called softly, her voice cutting through the quiet. “Why are you always awake?”
Rhaenyra looked up, startled, her violet eyes catching the porch light for a moment before she snapped the book shut. “I don’t know,” she said with a small shrug, her voice casual. “I don’t need much sleep.”
Alicent arched a brow, her lips pressing into a line of disbelief. “That’s biologically inaccurate,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. “Everyone needs sleep. You’re not some superhuman.”
Rhaenyra’s mouth twitched into a small, sheepish grin. “I’m not saying I don’t sleep at all. Just… not a lot. I feel fine.”
“You’re fourteen,” Alicent said, her tone laced with both exasperation and curiosity. “You’re supposed to need like, ten hours of sleep a night. Your body’s growing. Your brain’s developing. Or at least, I hope it is.”
“Well I’m fifteen actually.” Rhaenyra flushed slightly, sitting up straighter. “And I’ve always been this way. I don’t know… it’s like I’m wired differently or something.”
“Differently,” Alicent repeated, shaking her head as she stepped fully onto the porch. “Well, ‘different’ isn’t going to help you much when you’re thirty and running on caffeine and bad decisions because you didn’t teach yourself to rest.”
Rhaenyra bit her lip to keep from smiling, fiddling with the edge of the book in her hands. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”
Alicent sighed, rubbing her temple as if she were trying to figure out how to argue with a teenager who was so certain of herself. Instead, she glanced down at the book in Rhaenyra’s hands. “What are you reading?”
Rhaenyra hesitated for a moment before holding it up. The title gleamed faintly in the dim light, something old and classic that Alicent vaguely recognized but hadn’t read.
Alicent raised a brow. “Of course you’d be reading something complicated at—” she checked the clock on the wall inside “—midnight. What’s next? War and Peace?”
Rhaenyra laughed softly, her blush deepening. “I like stuff that makes me think,” she said simply, looking back down at the book.
Alicent studied her for a moment, her sharp, professional demeanor softening just a little. “You know,” she said, quieter this time, “you remind me of me when she was your age. Always awake. Always curious about everything.”
Rhaenyra glanced up at that, her eyes flicking toward Alicent’s face. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” Alicent said quickly, the corner of her mouth twitching into a small smile. “It’s a good thing. Just… don’t forget to take care of yourself too, okay? Smart doesn’t mean invincible.”
Rhaenyra nodded, her expression thoughtful as she watched Alicent retreat back into the house. “Goodnight, Alicent,” she said softly, her voice almost lost in the night air.
“Goodnight, Rhaenyra,” Alicent replied over her shoulder, her tone more gentle than she’d intended.
The door clicked shut, and Rhaenyra sank back into her chair, her book forgotten for the moment. Her heart was doing that thing again—the thing where it sped up, like she was on the edge of some discovery that was just out of reach.
///
The dining room table was a mess of brightly colored game pieces, scattered cards, and a few half-empty bowls of snacks. The air was warm, filled with the sound of laughter and lighthearted bickering. It was the kind of atmosphere that felt safe and timeless, like nothing outside the walls could disrupt it.
Rhaenyra sat cross-legged on one of the chairs, intently studying the board in front of her. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she eyed Dany’s tiny plastic piece sitting precariously close to victory.
Dany, grinning like a fox, held her cards close to her chest. “Your move, Rhae,” she said, her tone just shy of taunting.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Rhaenyra muttered, chewing on the corner of her lip. She tapped her chin with one hand while reaching for the dice with the other. The stakes were high—if Dany won again, she’d never stop bragging about it. “Just let me think.”
Across the table, Alicent sat with her arms loosely crossed, sipping tea from a dainty mug. She wasn’t playing this round, having decided earlier to sit this one out and “observe the chaos.” Her mom had already gone to bed, and the house was quiet save for the noise at the table. It was nice, Alicent thought. Comfortable.
“You’re overthinking it, Rhaenyra,” Alicent said with a soft laugh, setting her mug down. “Just roll the dice and go. The board’s not going to magically rearrange itself in your favor.”
Rhaenyra glanced at her, trying to mask her flustered smile. “I’m trying to strategize. There’s a method to this, you know.”
Dany groaned dramatically, flopping back in her chair. “The method is to move your piece before I die of old age.”
“Patience is a virtue,” Rhaenyra quipped, but finally rolled the dice. It clattered against the table, landing with a decisive six. A chorus of reactions erupted around her—Dany groaned again, and Alicent chuckled under her breath.
“Alright, alright,” Rhaenyra said, moving her piece with exaggerated care. “Calm down, everyone. It’s just a game.”
Dany shot her a glare. “Says the person who almost flipped the board when I blocked you from getting the last property in Monopoly last summer.”
“That was different,” Rhaenyra said quickly, her cheeks pink. “You cheated.”
“I did not cheat!” Dany yelped, slamming her hand on the table for emphasis. “You’re just a sore loser.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Enough, children,” Alicent interjected, her voice dry but warm as she reached for the dice. “Here. I’ll roll for both of you, and whoever loses has to clean up afterward.”
Dany gasped, scandalized. “What?! That’s not fair.”
“Life’s not fair,” Alicent said sweetly, shaking the dice in her hand. She tossed it onto the table, and it rolled to a stop on a three. Dany’s face twisted in exaggerated horror, while Rhaenyra smirked triumphantly.
“Looks like you’re on cleanup duty, Dany,” Rhaenyra teased, leaning back in her chair with satisfaction.
“I demand a rematch,” Dany grumbled, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. She stood up dramatically and started gathering the scattered pieces, muttering something about “rigged dice” under her breath.
Alicent stood too, collecting the empty snack bowls and stacking them. “I’ll help,” she said, shooting her sister a look. “But only because I don’t trust you not to just shove everything in the box without sorting it first.”
As they tidied up, Rhaenyra leaned back in her chair, watching the two sisters bicker good-naturedly. She felt the corners of her mouth curl into a small smile. It wasn’t often she felt this kind of warmth, this sense of belonging.
“Hey, Rhae,” Alicent said suddenly, catching her attention. “Next time, you’re on cleanup duty. Fair’s fair.”
“Deal,” Rhaenyra replied, unable to hide her grin. For once, she didn’t mind the thought of next time. In fact, she was already looking forward to it.
///
The snow crunched under their skis as Rhaenyra and Dany zipped down one of the easier slopes, the wind stinging their cheeks and making their laughter carry on the cold air. Rhaenyra had always enjoyed skiing, but being here with Dany—where everything felt carefree—made it even better.
They slowed to a stop near the bottom of the hill, taking a moment to catch their breath. Dany plopped onto the snow, pulling her goggles up to rest on her forehead.
“That was awesome,” she panted, grinning at Rhaenyra. “I almost wiped out twice, though.”
Rhaenyra smirked, planting her poles in the snow. “Almost? I was sure you were going down back there. You flailed like a dying fish.”
“Excuse me,” Dany said, feigning offense. “It’s called skill. I’m just that good.”
Rhaenyra snorted, but her teasing grin softened as she looked around. The slopes were buzzing with skiers, the sunlight bouncing off the pristine snow. But even as she admired the view, her mind wandered elsewhere. Or, more accurately, to someone else.
Dany caught the way Rhaenyra’s expression shifted—the dreamy sort of look she got when she was thinking about something—or someone. A slow smirk spread across Dany’s face as she put two and two together.
“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Dany said, leaning back on her hands.
“What?” Rhaenyra asked, startled. Her face grew hot, and she fumbled with her ski poles. “No, I’m not.”
“Oh, please,” Dany scoffed. “You’ve got that look. The I’m totally smitten but trying to act normal look.”
“I don’t—” Rhaenyra started, but Dany cut her off with a dramatic eye roll.
“Rhae, you’ve been gushing about my sister all day,” Dany said, grinning. “Like, just now, you called her ‘graceful’ and ‘ethereal’ when she walked past us to get her coffee. I mean, who even talks like that?”
“I was just making an observation,” Rhaenyra muttered, her face burning as she turned her attention to her skis. “She looked…nice.”
Dany laughed, leaning closer. “You’re so obvious. It’s honestly adorable.”
“Shut up,” Rhaenyra hissed, glaring at her friend. “I don’t—She’s just…she’s Alicent. You know?”
“Yeah,” Dany said, her grin widening. “She’s Alicent. The most beautiful, elegant, smart, amazing woman in the world, according to you.”
“I never said all that,” Rhaenyra grumbled, though her voice lacked conviction. She tightened the strap on her glove, refusing to meet Dany’s gaze.
Dany leaned her chin on her hand, clearly enjoying herself. “You don’t have to say it. It’s written all over your face every time you’re in the same room as her.”
Rhaenyra groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “You’re the worst.”
“Thank you,” Dany said, laughing. “But seriously, you’ve got to chill. She’s just my sister.”
“She’s not just your sister,” Rhaenyra mumbled before she could stop herself. Realizing what she said, she quickly added, “I mean, she’s…she’s great, obviously. But it’s not—I’m not…”
“Relax,” Dany said, smirking as she stood up and brushed the snow off her pants. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
“There’s no secret,” Rhaenyra said firmly, standing as well and gripping her poles like her life depended on it.
“Sure, sure,” Dany said, sliding her goggles back over her eyes. “Come on, let’s do another run. Maybe you’ll finally stop thinking about her for five minutes.”
“Dany,” Rhaenyra warned, but Dany was already skiing ahead, her laughter ringing out behind her.
Rhaenyra sighed, shaking her head as she followed. No matter how much she denied it, she couldn’t stop the way her heart fluttered every time Alicent entered her thoughts. And that was becoming more frequent with every passing day.
///
The door to the deck creaked open, letting in a rush of air as Rhaenyra and Dany stepped outside, their boots crunching over the snow-dusted floorboards. The contrast between the icy breeze and the warm steam wafting from the hot tub was stark, and Rhaenyra immediately felt the heat radiating from the bubbling water.
Then she saw her.
Alicent was reclined in the hot tub, her head tilted back against the edge, steam curling around her shoulders. Her auburn hair was pinned up in a messy bun, loose tendrils framing her face, and—oh, gods—she was wearing a bikini. Not just any bikini, but a simple, dark green one that perfectly contrasted her pale skin and toned figure. Rhaenyra's brain promptly short-circuited .
Her eyes darted everywhere, trying to land anywhere but on Alicent, but her traitorous gaze kept snapping back. Alicent’s collarbones gleamed with water droplets, her legs stretched out under the bubbling water, and—oh no—Rhaenyra was staring too long. Way too long.
“Hey,” Alicent said, her voice smooth but laced with a rare hint of playfulness. She lifted a hand from the water in a small wave, barely opening her eyes as she relaxed in the heat. “How was skiing?”
Rhaenyra’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She was suddenly hyper-aware of everything: the faint hum of the jets in the hot tub, the bite of cold air on her face, and, most of all, the burning flush crawling up her neck. Say something, idiot, she screamed at herself internally.
“It was… uh… skiing. Yeah,” she finally managed, her voice cracking on the last word. She wanted to sink through the deck and disappear forever.
Dany didn’t even notice, already peeling off her ski jacket with a sigh. “It was great. Rhae almost ran into a tree trying to show off, but other than that, solid day.”
“I wasn’t showing off,” Rhaenyra muttered, her voice barely audible.
Alicent smirked, finally opening her eyes to glance at them. “You almost ran into a tree?”
“No!” Rhaenyra said quickly, her voice coming out louder than she intended. “I mean…not really. It was more of a…a close call.”
Dany snorted, stepping closer to the hot tub. “Sure. Whatever you say, Rhae.”
Alicent’s smirk widened as she tilted her head, her sharp brown eyes briefly flicking over Rhaenyra. “Well, I’m glad you survived your ‘close call.’”
Rhaenyra swallowed hard, feeling like her face was on fire. She mumbled something unintelligible and tugged at the collar of her sweater, desperate for a distraction.
“I’m getting in,” Dany announced, already pulling off her layers and revealing her swimsuit underneath. She tossed her clothes onto a nearby chair and hopped into the hot tub with a dramatic splash. “Gods, this feels amazing.”
Alicent chuckled, shaking her head. “Can you not cannonball into every hot tub, Dany? Some of us are trying to relax.”
“You’re no fun,” Dany replied, sinking deeper into the water with a content sigh. “Come on, Rhae, join us.”
“Nope,” Rhaenyra said quickly, holding up her hands. “I’m good.”
“Oh, come on,” Dany pressed. “You’ve been freezing all day. The water’s perfect.”
“I said I’m good,” Rhaenyra repeated, avoiding Alicent’s gaze at all costs. “I, uh, need to shower first. Yeah, I’m covered in snow and sweat. I’ll catch you guys later.”
She practically bolted inside before Dany could argue, her heart pounding like she’d just skied straight down a black diamond slope. She barely made it into the mudroom before leaning against the wall, letting out a shaky breath.
Alicent in a bikini. That was going to haunt her for the rest of her life.
///
The house was quieter than usual that night, the kind of hush that only came when the snow muffled the world outside and everyone else had long since gone to bed. Rhaenyra was curled up on the enclosed porch, trying to focus on her book but failing miserably. She was distracted, though she wasn’t quite sure by what. Maybe it was the way the cold air pressed against the glass, or maybe it was the faint sound of voices from somewhere in the house.
She perked up, her Alpha senses sharper in the silence. Voices—one unmistakably Alicent's, soft but firm. Another voice followed, lighter and teasing. Rhaenyra frowned. She hadn’t noticed anyone else staying at the house that night.
Curiosity got the better of her. Setting her book down, she moved quietly toward the kitchen, her socked feet making almost no sound on the hardwood floors. The voices became clearer as she approached, and she peeked around the corner.
There they were. Alicent, leaning casually against the counter in an oversized sweater, her hair slightly mussed in a way that felt... intimate. Across from her was a tall, strikingly beautiful woman with dark curls and warm brown skin—Missandei, Rhaenyra realized, remembering the name from conversations she'd half-heard between Alicent and Dany in passing.
They were standing close—too close. Rhaenyra’s chest tightened as she watched Missandei reach out, brushing a strand of hair from Alicent’s face with an ease that spoke of familiarity. Alicent didn’t pull away. Instead, she tilted her head, her lips quirking into a faint smile.
“You always know how to show up at the worst times,” Alicent said, her voice light but tinged with something Rhaenyra couldn’t quite place.
Missandei laughed softly, her fingers trailing down Alicent’s arm. “I’d argue it’s the best time. You’ve been stuck in this snowy little bubble for weeks—you needed a distraction.”
“A distraction,” Alicent repeated, her tone dipping lower. Her eyes searched Missandei’s face, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.
Rhaenyra knew she should leave. She didn’t even know why she’d lingered this long, why her chest felt so tight, why her stomach churned. But she couldn’t seem to move.
Missandei leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Tell me you don’t miss this, Ali.”
Alicent didn’t answer. Instead, she closed the distance between them, her lips capturing Missandei’s in a kiss that was anything but tentative. Rhaenyra’s breath hitched, her stomach twisting in a way she didn’t fully understand.
The sound of the kiss was almost unbearable—soft, wet, intimate. Alicent’s hands slid to Missandei’s waist, pulling her closer, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist.
But then the moment shattered.
“I can’t do this,” Alicent said suddenly, pulling back. Her voice was breathless, her eyes wide and filled with something that looked a lot like regret.
Missandei frowned, her hands still on Alicent’s hips. “Why not? We’re good together, Ali. You know we are.”
Alicent shook her head, stepping back and wrapping her arms around herself. “We were good together. But we’re not those people anymore, Missandei. I can’t pretend like nothing’s changed.”
“Nothing has to change,” Missandei argued, her voice rising slightly. “We’ve always had this connection. You can’t just ignore that.”
Alicent’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she looked as though she might argue. But then her shoulders slumped, and she sighed. “It’s not that simple.”
The tension in the room was thick, and Rhaenyra finally forced herself to move, retreating silently back to the porch. Her heart was pounding, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t as though she had any right to feel… whatever it was she was feeling. Alicent’s life was her own. But the image of Alicent and Missandei, so close, so intimate, was seared into her mind.
She sat back down, staring blankly at the book she’d left open. Moments later, she heard footsteps approaching. Rhaenyra stiffened the moment the door opened, realizing she was about to witness something awkward—something she wasn’t supposed to see.
Alicent stepped onto the porch, pausing mid-motion, her expression distant and slightly troubled. She paused when she saw Rhaenyra, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her expression faltered for a split second—surprise giving way to mild embarrassment—before she composed herself, clearing her throat. “Oh,” Alicent said, her voice quieter now. “Rhaenyra, I didn’t realize you were still awake.”
“I was just…” Rhaenyra trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the book in her lap, her voice uneven. She avoided looking at either of them directly, her eyes darting anywhere but their faces.
Missandei smiled briefly and then turned to Alicent. “Goodnight, Alicent.” She leaned in, her lips brushing Alicent’s cheek in a parting kiss. “Try not to overthink this,” Missandei added in a low, amused voice before slipping out the door, letting the cool night air sweep in for a moment before it clicked shut behind her.
Alicent stood there for a beat, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. Her cheeks were flushed, though from the cold or something else, Rhaenyra couldn’t tell. Rhaenyra watched her in silence, unsure of what to say or do. She wanted to ask about Missandei, about what she’d just walked in on, but the words caught in her throat.
“That girl is my ex from high school, Missandei. Don’t mention her being here to Dany,” Alicent said after a moment, breaking the quiet. She opened her eyes, fixing Rhaenyra with a look that was both weary and amused. “She’ll never let me live it down.”
Rhaenyra nodded quickly, almost too quickly. “Of course. I won’t.”
Then Alicent sighed, running a hand through her hair as she added, “Actually, no. Don’t hide anything from her. She’s your friend, and I don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
Rhaenyra hesitated, her throat tightening. “It’s… it’s fine. Really,” she said, trying not to trip over her words. “I don’t mind.”
Alicent studied her for a moment, her expression softening just slightly. “Thanks,” she said simply, before finishing the cookie and leaning back in her chair, her gaze drifting to the snow falling lightly outside the porch windows. For a while, they sat there in silence, the only sound the faint whisper of wind outside.
///
The rest of the skiing trip passed in a comfortable, easy rhythm. Days began with the smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen and the sound of boots crunching on fresh snow as everyone made their way to the slopes. Dany and Rhaenyra were inseparable, laughing as they raced down the groomed trails or tried—unsuccessfully—to build a snow fort that wouldn’t collapse under the weight of their competitive shoving.
Alicent mostly worked during the day, her laptop always open on the kitchen counter or the dining room table, while she sipped tea and answered emails. Occasionally, she’d glance out the window to see Dany and Rhaenyra streaking past in a blur of colorful ski jackets, Dany’s laugh carrying faintly through the glass. It was nice—quiet but lively at the same time—and she found herself smiling more often than she’d admit.
In the evenings, the family gathered for dinner, playing board games afterward or huddling together for a movie in the cozy living room. Rhaenyra was terrible at trivia but surprisingly good at strategy games, much to Dany’s frustration. Alicent watched from the sidelines with a glass of wine, laughing when Dany accused Rhaenyra of cheating—though it was clear to everyone that Dany was just annoyed she’d lost three times in a row.
One night, Rhaenyra convinced everyone to go outside and look at the stars. They bundled up in coats and scarves, trudging out to the edge of the property where the snow was undisturbed. Alicent stood slightly apart from the group, her breath visible in the frigid air, as Rhaenyra pointed out constellations with an almost childlike enthusiasm. It wasn’t lost on her how much Rhaenyra lit up when talking, her face animated and her voice warm despite the cold.
“Wow, she’s really got you hooked, huh?” Dany teased under her breath, nudging Alicent with her elbow.
“Shut up, Dany,” Alicent muttered, rolling her eyes but unable to fight the small smile tugging at her lips.
By the end of the trip, the house felt full in a way Alicent hadn’t expected. It was hard to pinpoint, but something about Rhaenyra’s presence, her quiet charm, and the way she seemed to fit so seamlessly into their little family made the usual post-trip emptiness feel a little less daunting.
As they packed up on the final morning, Rhaenyra lingered near the window, looking out at the snowy slopes she’d grown so attached to. Alicent caught her standing there and couldn’t help but offer a small smile.
“Already planning next year, huh?” she asked, her voice light but teasing.
Rhaenyra turned to her, a hint of pink on her cheeks. “Maybe,” she admitted, scratching the back of her neck. “It’s been… really nice.”
Alicent nodded, her gaze softening. “Yeah. It has.”