The Dance Of The Dragon And The Tower

The Dance of the Dragon and the Tower

Summary: The Queen appears in a shocking green dress and the Princess seems to feel a certain way about it

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Alicent Hightower

Warning: Infidelity, kind of enemies to lovers

Words: 929

A/N: Rhaenyra sees Alicent in the green dress and realizes she doesn't want to fumble that bag; I wrote this at 1 in the morning someone please take my computer away

Rhaenyra fell silent when she saw her walk into the room. Her father became quiet when the doors opened. The air was sucked out of the feast. They all stared. Rhaenyra stared at her. The green gown was gorgeous. It was dark but brilliant enough to contrast against her skin. Her hair was done in such a way that it cascaded down her neck while also being held up by a lovely braid. She was beautiful. Alicent was beautiful.  

When she made her way up to their table, Rhaenyra felt her heart start beating when her brown eyes landed on her. 

Then she said it. “Congratulations stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you.” Her voice was sweet but her eyes held disdain. 

Rhaenyra’s heart tightened in pain. Alicent took her seat beside Viserys and he continued his previous toast. But all Rhaenyra could think about was the young woman to her left. 

As her father, Viserys, ate the lords and ladies began to line up with partners. The music started and they danced. Rhaenyra was led by Laenor. Her cousin spun her around, a smile on his features. She followed his movements when they changed partners. Ser Harwin grinned while they danced. She laughed at one of his jests before they switched partners once more. As Harwin left, Rhaenyra caught a glance at Alicent. She was dancing with a cousin of hers. She politely smiled at him as he took her hand. 

Rhaenyra felt her jaw clench. She did nothing and continued to dance, her eyes never leaving Alicent’s silhouette. With careful steps, she got closer and closer to where Alicent was until the Hightower’s back was behind her. When it came time to switch, the princess spun away from her partner and stopped short before the queen. 

Alicent’s features hardened upon seeing her. “Stepdaughter.”

“May I have this dance, my Queen?” Rhaenyra asked with a honeyed tone.

Alicent said nothing but held her hand out. Rhaenyra took it. Alicent led her in the dance. However, Rhaenyra was upset to see her brown eyes planted themselves on anything that wasn’t her. 

Rhaenyra hated how she ignored her. “Don’t look so upset, my Queen. I am only getting married.” “A most grand day, stepdaughter,” Alicent said in a monotone voice.

“Given your enthusiasm, I’m glad we share the same sentiment.” Rhaenyra decided to be bold. She leaned close to the Queen’s ear and whispered: “, This wedding is a sham.”

Alicent’s eyes widened. Rhaenyra smirked at having gotten a reaction. 

“This is a wonderful match.” Alicent was caught off guard by the sound of her voice. “The Velaryons are very powerful and have good relations with the crown.”

Rhaenyra leaned close, this time near Alicent’s neck. “Everyone knows about Laenor. He has other preferences. The Velaryons are desperate for this match. They just want his blood to be on the throne through our children.”   

Rhaenyra sighed dramatically. “Everyone wants something. They all play their games to get what they want. Yet here I cannot get what I want.”

Alicent narrowed her eyes. “You had your chance to get what you wanted Rhaenyra…”

Rhaenyra grinned upon hearing Alicent drop the formal title and call her by her name. 

“Your father gave you the chance to pick any man in the Seven Kingdoms you wanted. You rejected them all.”

Rhaenyra’s hand that rested on Alicent’s back began to slide down. The princess smirked. “I didn’t want any of them. I still don’t. The one I want has already been taken from me.”

Alicent stared at her. Rhaenyra watched the realization of her words dawn on the Hightower. 

Rhaenyra’s hand stopped at Alicent’s waist. 

“What games are you playing?” Alicent asked.

“None. Say the command and I will do it.” “Do what?” “Fly away with you on dragonback.”

“Rhaenyra-”

The princess cupped the queen’s face with her free hand, her thumb lingering on her jaw. “Say the words and I will take you away across the Narrow Sea. We can take the babes with us. I will raise Aegon and Helaena as my own. Our lives will be what we make of them. Just say the words and I will do it.”

Alicent leaned close to her face. “How do I know what you say is true? How do I know you haven’t been lured by the call of the throne? Power is an enticing thing; would you really give it all up?”  

Rhaenyra’s eyes moved between Alicent’s lips and her eyes. “Would you?”

“I never wanted this. I never asked to be the queen. I would give it up in a heartbeat.”

“Then do it. Say the words, Alicent.”

Rhaenyra leaned close. The air was becoming thin and all she could smell was the fragrance Alicent wore. 

“Alicent…” Her breath was caught when a scream broke out.

Rhaenyra turned to see that something was happening near the doors where the guards were positioned. Alicent’s grip on her shoulders loosened. The Queen was beginning to pull away. 

Everyone was looking elsewhere. Rhaenyra adjusted her hand on Queen’s cheek and held the back of her neck. She pulled her. Rhaenyra tilted her head when their lips met. The princess sighed into the contact. She felt Alicent’s hands cup her face. The princess kept her grip on the other girl’s waist. As the commotion grew louder, she heard Laenor’s name being called in a panic. She pulled away. The queen stared at her with flushed cheeks and red lips.

Rhaenyra stared into the abyss of her eyes. “My offer still stands, issa perzys.”

Translation: Issa perzys= my fire

Lowkey tho would have been amazing to see Rhaenyra, Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron kill Viserys Murder on the Orient Express style by each taking turns stabbing him while he's asleep. Just like everyone whose lives he had a hand in ruining pushing their differences aside to kill him, the source of everything that's made them this way. If I don't end up writing this someone else please do

Dyanna Tully and her Knight Gwayne Hightower Mood board

“During the Dance of the Dragons, Dyanna Tully was said to be very close with Queen Alicent Hightower's brother, Gwayne. The knight was always by her side like a shadow and devoted himself to her completely. Some whispered there was something more between the two.”

Happy Valentine's Day post featuring one of my favorite couples I’ve written 💕💕💕

I have no words. I love this film and I love Rhaenicent. Just amazing 💕💕💕

The Mummy 1999 AU.

This was inspired by a post from another tumblr user. I can’t find the post, but when I do, I shall link it.

———

The desert stretches out in front of them like a golden ocean. When Alicent pulls in a shallow breath, the air is dry, tickling her throat. Her temples are throbbing, a layer of sweat and grime under her light clothes, her body tense and stiff on the horse. Alicent shifts uncomfortably, hyper aware of how close she is to the woman behind her. Rhaenyra’s hand is resting casually on her spread thighs, fingers wrapped around the reins as their horse plods along. Beside them, Gwayne sits on his own horse. Alicent shoots an uncharitable thought his way, remembering his apologetic look when he had told her they only had enough resources for two horses instead of three.

The sun dips lower towards the horizon, casting the sand in a ruddy glow. Rhaenyra shifts, chest brushing up against Alicent’s sweaty back. She stiffens, eyes widening as she feels the softness of the other woman’s breasts. She is entirely too close for a person that Alicent is barely acquainted with. It’s indelicate.

Her mind casts back to their meeting, only a few days previously. The dust mots had been drifting lazily in the dim shaft of light cutting across the stone floor as Alicent slipped books back into their rightful places from her perch on the sliding ladder. Abruptly, the serene silence was interrupted, the doors slamming open. Alicent clutched the spindly ladder, heart leaping.

“Sister,” Gwayne’s cheerful, round face appeared below her, another person standing at his side. “I have some marvelous news.”

“Gwayne,” she snapped. “You gave me a fright. What have I told you about disturbing me at my work?”

“Apologies,” said the person beside him, tilting their head back to look Alicent in the eye.

His companion was a woman in simple archeologists’ garb: worn trousers, a felt hat, and scuffed boots. Her hair is pulled back, blue eyes bright in her slightly tanned face. All together, a somewhat odd person.

“Your brother led me to understand you were in need of a guide?” The woman continued, eyes absorbing Alicent’s appearance in a similar fashion. She felt her cheeks heating. I wonder what she sees when she looks at me.

“This is Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Gwayne emphasized the name, expression ecstatic. And indeed, the name was a familiar one. A highly respected family name in the field of archaeology.

Alicent started climbing down the ladder, surprised to find the other woman extending her hand when she was half way down. Tentatively, Alicent accepted the other woman’s hand, allowing herself to be helped off the ladder.

“He said you found a map,” Rhaenyra said, palm still warm against Alicent’s skin.

And now here they are, traveling across the desert together, her hapless brother snoring next to them on his horse, the sun below the horizon, the sky a beautiful blanket of stars. Surely this is not what her father pictured for the both of them. He would be so disappointed that it was Alicent who had continued to study instead of Gwayne. And yet you still persist.

“You alright?” Rhaenyra’s voice is soft, her breath touching the clammy skin at the back of Alicent’s neck.

“Perfectly,” she responds, voice stilted. It feels as if every conversation between them has been difficult and fraught. Alicent is hyper aware of how every word will land; what every expression on Rhaenyra’s face might mean. It’s exhausting. How aware she is when the other woman is in the room. When she is speaking. When her eyes are on her.

“You seem tense,” Rhaenyra continues.

Alicent can see her hands, reaching out to touch their horses' flanks. Her fingers are strong looking, skin rough and calloused. She knows from the few times they have touched. She shivers, the sweat of the day cold on her skin now in the desert night. She’s still warm under her breasts, between her spread legs.

“You’re cold,” Rhaenyra pulls back. Alicent can hear her shrugging off her jacket.

“Really, you don’t—” Alicent protests, face flushing with mortification. She knows what the other woman is about.

“I insist,” Rhaenyra drops her jack loosely over Alicent’s shoulders. It’s warm from her body, and it carries the mixture of her scent: horse, sweat, sensible soap. Very unfeminine. Father would not approve of her.

“Thank you,” she says stiffly.

Rhaenyra hums softly.

“You can sleep too if you want.”

Alicent does not trust herself to sleep.

“I shall stay awake and take my rest during the day.”

Minutes stretch agonizingly slow. She’s hyper aware of the woman behind her. The silence of the desert, the shifting of the horse under their bodies.

“I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for accompanying us on this venture, Miss Targaryen.”

“Rhaehyra,” she corrects, again. “And no thanks are necessary. The map your brother found is something my family has been searching for years. Seeing this through is important.”

“I take it you do not subscribe to the curse?”

“I have a great respect for legend.”

As the conversation peters off, Alicent’s eyes begin to droop. Maybe hours later, she drifts awake, a line of warmth across her belly: Rhaenyra’s arm keeping her in place. In her sleep, she m leaned back on the other woman’s shoulder, mouth open. Mortified, Alicent jerks upright.

“Pardon me,” Alicent gasps.

“Don’t worry yourself,” Rhaenyra says calmly. The sky is gradually starting to go from purple to pink casting the desert in an ethereal glow.

———

Anyone ever write something so unhinged that you debate posting because you reread it and are like “what the fuck????”

Deadass me when someone asks what I'm writing