Chapter Text
“I gave Daemon two names. That is the extent of it.” Mysaria delivered, she stared forward. “And I did not wish to do that much. He said it was the price of my freedom…. Does he say otherwise?”
“He’s gone.” The Queen delivered promptly.
Mysaria was at a loss. “For how long?”
“A week or forever, I do not know.” Rhaenyra probed, her sharp gaze never leaving the woman.
“He does that..” Mysaria replied, staring straight ahead. The Queen’s eyes were piercing, determined, all encompassing. She could see the gears turning in her head, lips pursing and flexing. Mysaria blinked, pushing the sudden inappropriate thought from her head. Rhaenyra looked her up and down slowly, like a predator gauging the value of her prey. She bit her lip. “You remember me now.”
“He said he would marry you.” Strength, power, and… jealousy? “And now it seems he’s done it again, made a promise and then slipped away.” Her Queen was teasing her, testing her, she knew that much. “You trade in the secrets of the Red Keep, your web runs unseen through King’s Landing. And now, when my enemy coils himself to strike at me–”
“I can do nothing now but ask you to honor your husband’s words.” Mysaria struck, needing to maintain her position.
“It would not serve me to set you free.” Rhaenyra replied, both of their thoughts briefly running astray. “At best, I lose an asset to my cause.” The Queen circled once more, preying. “At worst, you betray me in some foul way.”
“I have no interest in betraying you, Your Grace.” The girl pleaded.
“So you say. Then tell me,” Rhaenyra asked, “Do you serve your Queen?” She furrowed her brow at such an inquiry.
“O-Of course, Your Grace, you know that what I’ve done I’ve done to surv-” Rhaenyra turned her head toward Ser Erryk, seemingly uninterested in the reply, nodding to him.
“Leave us.” The hesitation and question was clear in his face, but he proceeded to bow and exit the hall. Mysaria raised her eyebrow as well.
“Your Grace, I-”
“Kneel.” Rhaenyra commanded clearly, sending the girl to her knees immediately with her eyes cast downward. Mysaria was no stranger to service, and the Queen was well aware of her past and sought not to remind her. Her Queen stepped closer to her and she felt the newfound warmth from her body, her eyes were locked onto the floor beneath them but the mere few layers of fabric separated her from something so desperately enticing yet incredibly forbidden. She felt the Queen’s firm, precise digits upon the top of her head, separating various strands of hair. Rhaenyra sighed, caressing and adjusting the woman’s locks as she saw fit. “Is this what you’re best at?” The woman asked, not expecting an answer. “You toil, manipulate, scheme your way through people, not a care in the world.”
“N-No, Your Grace, I-” Her fingers entangled into her hair quickly, yanking her head backwards to look up at her.
“Don’t interrupt me. I know your history with Daemon, I know the endless web of yours that you’ve curated and the myriad of disasters it has brought you. You thought it would bring you freedom, and that you’d be able to just, whisk yourself away? Instead it has brought you into mine own web.” She was being scolded, and yet, the Queen herself was still so beautiful. Each word tore into her like a blade and yet Mysaria hung onto each word, aching for more. Leaning against the desk, she pulled the kneeling girl’s head against her crotch, Mysaria’s nostrils filled with the scent of her Queen- seems neither of them have had a recent wash. Her breathing picked up speed. “Oh, look at you.” Rhaenyra sang, patronizing. “Look at how you stir. You serve your Queen so well.” The girl gasped, nodding, accompanied by small desperate breaths as her hands gently reached up, clawing at her Queen’s gown. “You are so pathetic.” Mysaria whined, the heat in her loins drowning out any sense of dignity that remained. And in one smooth motion, Queen Rhaenyra hiked up her gown, pushing the woman into her undergarments, bringing the girl to a desperate moan. Leaning against the desk, she brought her right leg on top of Mysaria’s shoulders as she pulled her against her crotch firmly. “There you go, perfect.” She gasped. The girl kissed and licked her inner thighs, the taste of sweet, perfect sweat. Lightly nibbling and sucking on whatever she could, desperate to buy her favor, desperate to be granted the sweet nectar just now out of reach. Mysaria whined, and the Queen pondered. In any other circumstances, Rhaenyra preferred they beg. But the poor girl beneath her was already lost in her own heat, and she could only smile. Reaching down, she pulled her garments down, and the girl didn’t waste a moment.
~
“Thank you, Elinda.” The maiden bowed.
“Your Grace.” She replied, stepping quickly from the room. Mysaria took a step back, eyeing her Queen carefully.
“What do you know of the movements of Alicent Hightower?” Rhaenyra looked her up and down, circling once more, Mysaria furrowing her brows gently.
“W-Would you take her hostage? Or kill her outright…?” Thoughts of Alicent and her Queen together flew through her mind, and she pushed them aside. There was no time for envy.
“I would speak with her, myself.” The Queen declared. Mysaria pursed her lips.
“Killing her would be easier.” She took a few steps forward, the need to feel her Queen’s warmth. Rhaenyra bit her lip, her hand drifting to Mysaria’s gown, tracing her hips, pinching and grabbing as she pleased. Mysaria took a gamble, eagerly hiking her dress up and eliciting a smirk from Rhaenyra. Her fingers drifted lower, tracing up her thighs toward her worn underwear. Rhaenyra dipped her fingers into her panties, and Mysaria gasped. “If war can be averted, it is my duty to avert it.” She stated outright, tilting her head as Mysaria lurched and trembled in reply to her elegant digits. She could only nod, biting her lip as she whimpered. “You’re jealous.” She stated. Mysaria whined.
"N-Never, My Queen. I-I-” Rhaenyra slipped her middle finger inside, interrupting her. She gasped, now pleading with her eyes.
“Shhh. You know full well who you belong to, where your loyalty lies, where your place is.” Rhaenyra reminded firmly, her gaze boring into the quivering woman that lay in her grasp. Mysaria was hers and they both knew it. Her thighs began to shake.
“Please, p-please, Y-Your Grace,” She begged, her undergarments now slick. The Queen tilted her head, smiling, looking upon her subject, her fingers picking up speed as they worked her cunt.
“More.”
“Please, I-I’m so close, I need you, I-I’m not jealous, I’m yours, I-I serve you, the rightful-”
“Then cum for your Queen.” Rhaenyra declared, gazing at Mysaria with the undeniable fire she so longed to submit to. Mysaria squealed, her hands grabbing at the sleeves of Rhaenyra’s dress as she shuddered, crumbling into the arms of her Queen, a place she could never imagine being held. Her climax rocked her, slowing to gentle waves as she whimpered into Rhaenyra’s chest. Queen Rhaenyra reached up, gently stroking the woman’s hair. “Shh, there you are, you did so very well for me.” She praised, eliciting yet another moan from Mysaria. And so she changed her tune. “As you were.”
“A-Ah,” Mysaria breathed, staggering, pulling up her soaked panties and smoothing out her gown. She curtsied lightly, stumbling out of the hall.