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She received the first share of her gifts very early in the morning. It was nothing short of what Alicent expected from her husband; a pretty package laid out beside the bed. Every year, without fail, he presented her with some sort of fabric for a new gown. Along with that there was always a platter of fresh peaches from Highgarden.
She could not recall it, but there must’ve been a time when Alicent praised the taste of fruits Viserys had offered her. Centuries ago, during one of many evenings she had spent in his chambers by her father’s orders. And they happened to be peaches. The king took her words to heart back then and made sure his young wife never suffered a shortage. Alicent appreciated that, even though she had always liked the taste of plums better.
Her mother had told her once that men were simple. „Either kind or unkind, but at their core - simple.” That’s why the bale of red, embroidered silk was both predictable and disappointing. A delightful mockery, but by no means elaborate. Alicent had to admit that sometimes simple means achieved the best results - she would rather suffer a death in dragon flames than let this fabric touch her skin.
For her own sake, she chose to believe that Viserys was just blind to many things. That he genuinely didn’t notice the fact his wife never paraded around the castle in Targaryen colours. Not anymore at least. The queen has been wearing only green for almost ten years now.
“Good morning, Your Grace. The King sends his warmest name day wishes” a handmaiden appeared at the doorframe with a basket in her hands.
Alicent wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. Instead she just rolled her eyes.
„Would it please Your Grace to get dressed now?”
„I will do it on my own today, Talya” she pointed to the present in the servant’s grasp „Should I care?”
„Oh, yes! This is from your father, Your Grace” Talya hurried inside excitedly “He sent you a basket of plums all the way from Reach. And a dagger! The hilt is shaped like a watchtower. You’ll love it, Your Grace!”
At least Otto Hightower knew fruits weren’t the only thing a lady needed to survive in King’s Landing. But she didn’t want to touch the dagger; Talya had to hide it underneath the bed.
Alicent didn’t taste any of those poisoned fruits either. Hunger didn’t bother her, even though she purposefully avoided breakfast with her children this morning. She didn’t have the strenght to be herself right now, let alone act as a mother and a queen.
But ignoring reality became harder as gifts piled up. More presents were being brought to her chambers, one after the another, until she finally had enough. Alicent was halfway through the door, all dressed up in emerald, when Talya appeared out of thin air before her. The girl’s hands were empty this time, but there was a short, terribly wrinkly woman beside her. She bowed and smiled toothlessly at the queen.
Ser Criston Cole, who was guarding Alicent’s door as usual, stepped in between them; his hand on the sword.
„There’s no need, ser” Talya giggled at him and turned to Alicent „This is Joss Lydden, Your Grace, the best seamstress from Driftmark. Lady Rhaenys Velaryon asked me to personally introduce her to you”
Alicent froze.
„She commissioned a new gown as a gift for your name day!”
Joss Lydden grinned, flashing her pinkish gums „I’ve got every shade of green in my workshop, Your Grace. Lady Velaryon handpicked the fabrics herself”
***
The dress was ready in a matter of weeks. Masterly crafted, a bit daring and furiously green. Alicent rushed through supper just to get back and put it on in the silence of her own chamber; to twirl mindlessly before her mirror like a mere maiden. And then she took a deep breath and turned towards the door again.
When the queen entered the chamber on the other side of Maegor’s Holdfast, Rhaenys first raised an eyebrow and then her glass of wine.
“Who would’ve thought Westeros will be graced by the sight of your collarbones tonight” she chuckled.
It was a toast of endless amusement. Yet strangely, Alicent didn’t feel the familiar wave of embarrassment wash over her at Rhaenys’ words.
During her marriage to the king she got used to gasping for air. Even though father’s lessons were meant to prepare her for the royal life, Otto Hightower wasn’t particularly interested in his daughter’s ability to bite back. No one truly taught the young bride how to protect herself from cleverly concealed jokes and judgements.
Viserys’ brother was the first one to notice this lack and he’s always taken great pleasure in pointing out Alicent’s inexperience. Her naivety. Her timidity. Despite that the queen had learned quite a lot since her wedding day, Daemon’s remarks continuously managed to make her skin crawl.
But now she wasn’t drowning, like she always did when Daemon ridiculed her in public. This… this was entirely different. If Alicent was scared of making a fool of herself, Rhaenys strangled those fears before they managed to reach the surface. The queen was certain that no vile joke has been made at her expense.
Rhaenys invited her for a swim instead; to play a game, just like Rhaenyra did back in the day.
Alicent held her gaze “I expected you to pass judgement on the gown, rather than my anatomy”
“One is nothing without the other” Rhaenys shrugged and brought the chalice closer to her lips “But the gown is fit for a queen, without a doubt. You can consider my breath taken away”
She took a sip on her wine, giving the other woman a second to compose herself. Alicent anxiously shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“Your words flatter me, dear cousin”
She honestly couldn’t come up with a wittier response. Those kinds of complements were long forgotten in her mind. Ever since she became the queen of the Seven Kingdoms, noblemen have called her many things, but never that. Mostly virtuous or noble, never breathtaking.
“You should know flattery isn’t in my nature. But Joss does her job well and I always applaud that”
“That she does. I’ve never had a dress feel this perfect on me”
“She claims that the real quality of a gown makes itself known when it’s put to good use… tested by natural movements” Rhaenys stood up suddenly “So sit and drink with me”
She didn’t take her eyes off of Alicent, until the queen was seated; only then did she move to pour the wine for her.
The Dornish red was a nice touch. Crimson as the blood circulating through every inch of Alicent’s body and sweet as the scent of Rhaenys’ perfume. Highly intoxicating.
At one point Alicent imagined that her companion was somehow affecting the air in the chamber. Taking up the surrounding space, but not in a dangerous way. As if an invisible stitching has been fastened around the table when Rhaenys finally sat down beside her. Targaryen women had that quality to them.
The queen didn’t mean to drink a lot, but lady Velaryon’s warm laugh somehow persuaded her to refill the glass. Twice or thrice… mayhaps four times.
She didn’t want to stop once she felt the warmth spread inside her limbs. Here she was a young girl again, smiling as wide as her cheeks allowed and enjoying other woman’s company without the need to analyse it.
Sharing instead of talking.
“I took some inspiration from my mother’s old dresses. To keep her memory with me” she admitted, touching the embroidered neckline “I was suffocating in her clothing when I was younger and only recently did I realise it felt… wrong”
Rhaenys’ eyes followed the movement of her fingers. She hesitated for a moment, mindlessly swirling the wine in her chalice.
“Was it her dress? The one you wore on Leanor’s dreadful wedding day?”
Alicent nodded. “But that’s a different story. That gown felt like an armour to me”
“That’s why I can’t imagine it was your father’s idea”
“It wasn’t”
Somehow, Rhaenys was able to smirk at the memory. Alicent took it as a sign of approval.
“That evening was the first time I saw a glimpse of real character in you”
Oh.
“And before that?” Alicent scoffed “You simply saw a brood mare by Viserys’ side?”
That shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. Something in Alicent shifted however, as she felt needles jabbing at one of her biggest insecurities. Even now, after all these years. She could still recall the humiliation rooted in being the little queen no one cared to listen to. To some extent, she was still precisely that.
But before real anger got to burst out of her, the other woman’s hand covered her palm gently.
“I saw a fox cornered by the hounds. Smart, capable and tragically outnumbered”
Alicent’s body froze. “Nothing changed in that regard”
“I’m afraid I disagree”
The queen locked her gaze on their hands and realised Rhaenys was moving her thumb lightly; soothing her as she spoke.
“You’re above anything the men at court perceive you to be” her words were quiet, but ringed like sept bells in Alicent’s ears “And if you need a silken armour to remind you of that, so be it”
The queen looked up and nearly gasped at the sight before her. The Queen Who Never Was, suddenly in all her regal glory, kept smiling knowingly at her. The silent understanding between them shook Alicent to her core.
Rhaenys’ finger traced the seam on her arm, all the way up from Alicent’s wrist. When she stopped, her fingers lingered at the line of the fabric, tickling Alicent’s exposed shoulder.
“Especially if the armour is so well crafted” she murmured “It feels like second skin on you”
“I… it does feel surreal” Alicent could not take her eyes away from the woman’s face.
The wine was creating a slight fog in her mind, covering her racing thoughts. Her entire arm was tingling, but Alicent didn’t dare move. It had to be the wine indeed.
“But I imagine it is not your real nature, is it? Rather a warning and protection… a spiked moat” Rhaenys wasn’t afraid to return her piercing gaze.
They just stared at each other and Alicent didn’t know whether to run or to reach forward.
“Remember that, my queen… only then you’ll begin feeling free”
She reached forward.
Both of their chalices clinked and fell, covering the table with the Dornish red. Its sweet smell reached Alicent’s nose seconds before lady Velaryon’s perfume replaced it.
Alicent could fully realise what she was doing only after Rhaenys’ lips were touching hers. She could, but she didn’t.
I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.
Rhaenys, if a bit startled, caught her instinctively with both hands, steadying the queen in her embrace.
The kiss was breathtaking.
Rhaenys’ hand on the queen’s shoulder moved upwards in order to caress her neck. She slowed down, forcefully bringing Alicent down onto her lap. Guiding her physically, as if she knew Alicent’s mind was miles away. Back in her own cold chamber, locked inside with her modesty and common sense.
I do not care.
She’d probably faint if she allowed herself to take a step back now. Alicent rushed, as if her hands had to hurry to win against her thoughts.
But Rhaenys was so gentle with her. The rougher Alicent became, the slower she kissed her, keeping the queen in place. Intertwined in a safe space, but nothing above that.
She was also the first one to pull back. When their eyes met again, Alicent realised her own fingers were desperately trying to undo the fastenings of her new gown, tugging at the laces with one arm behind her back. Rhaenys’ hands laid steadily on Alicent’s waist now, but the woman never intended to move them upwards.
„I will not ruin it, Alicent” she murmured, placing a soft kiss on her brow „Don’t let anyone take it off”