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rhaenyra hates being pregnant. she’s sure she’ll love the child when it’s born, as all mothers do, but she hates the process of growing it. her entire body aches, she’s swelling up like a plum and she gets sick at the smallest of movements. she hasn’t rode her dragon in four months and she hates it. dragons aren’t meant to live on the ground. she feels restless, pacing the red keep while trying not to vomit as she turns corners. she can’t help but wish for this child to come soon, just so she can have some semblance of what her life was before she became this person. she doesn’t even recognise herself in the mirror, anymore. she wonders if alicent recognises herself in her mirror. rhaenyra thinks she probably doesn’t. rhaenyra doesn’t recognise alicent, anymore, either. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — rhaenyra is seven moons into her pregnancy and in a small council meeting when she feels it, a rush of heat from her stomach to her small clothes. she trails off from whatever sentence she was saying, arguing with alicent about something so unimportant, just because she wants to see alicent get angry. “rhaenyra-“ viserys starts. rhaenyra knows what’s happening. she’d witnessed this with her mother more times than she’d like to remember, and she knows what her future looks like. she will live, but her child won’t, or they will both die tonight. “my apologises, father. the babe is kicking up a storm,” rhaenyra lies, and everybody believes her. of course they do. she’s the realm’s delight and she knows how to lie to these people, knows how to convince them that she is just as strong as them, despise the fact she doesn’t have a cock. but alicent is watching rhaenyra like she doesn’t believe her and rhaenyra has never been able to lie to alicent. not completely. rhaenyra’s hand comes over her stomach as a sharp pain shoots through her stomach and she knows she has to leave before the blood is on the floor and people realise what’s happening. “please excuse me,” rhaenyra says, leaving the room before anybody could object. they’ve become used to her coming and going a lot since her pregnancy, and men do well not to question the actions of hormonal women, especially ones with rhaenyra’s temper. gods, she’s been foul this entire pregnancy. she wonders if this is the gods punishing her for hating this, for wanting the child out. the child will come out tonight, but the child will not survive. but alicent is not a man and she’s suffered two pregnancies of her own, is pregnant with her third child, now. she’s not as far along as rhaenyra, but she knows something isn’t right, and she knows it’s not the sickness rhaenyra has been having this time. still, she doesn’t ask, or mention it. it’s not her place, and rhaenyra isn’t her rhaenyra, anymore. alicent is queen and they are not friends. they haven’t spoken a kind word to each other since before rhaenyra’s wedding to laenor. a child won’t change that, alicent thinks. her own children, rhaenyra’s siblings, didn’t change that, and alicent won’t give rhaenyra the satisfaction of alicent following her around and checking she’s okay like she would’ve done years ago. they’re not the same girls, anymore. they’re women, now, a queen and a princess, and alicent doesn’t care what happens to rhaenyra. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — rhaenyra makes it to her chambers in one piece, but she knows she’s left a trail of blood behind her from further down the hallway. her thighs are sticky with the blood and her stomach is contracting painfully. all she can do is climb onto the bed, clutching her stomach and trying to breathe through the agony. her child might die, but rhaenyra won’t. she won’t die like her mother, and if it gets to that point, rhaenyra will leave. she’ll find her dragon and die a dragon rider’s death, die at the hands of fire, because she is not her mother and she will not let the gods win. she’s always known she’ll die, and she’s always said she’d do it on her own terms. that much hasn’t changed, even if the rest of rhaenyra has. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — rhaenyra banishes anyone from her chambers. harwin stands guard at the end of the corridor, the blood on the floor wiped clean of his own accord. it’s not his child in the princess. this one is laenor’s. rhaenyra insisted on it, and laenor agreed. they needed their claim to be strong now alicent had sons and bastards wouldn’t do that. harwin respects her decision, respects the princess. they’re not lovers, anymore. it happened once, when the two were both drunk and laenor was off fucking one of his squires, but rhaenyra took moon tea and hadnt called harwin to warm her bed, since. he might be a man with a cock, but he knows women. he knows rhaenyra, and he knows what’s happening to her in her chambers, but she banished him, too, and it’s taking everything in him not to go and check on her. she’s been in there for hours. he hasn’t moved from his post, but he knows she’s in agony in her room. he hasn’t heard a sound, however. that’s a new thing. harwin heard tales of rhaenyra’s emotional state before becoming her guard, heard how she cried often as a child because she felt her emotions so deeply. a conversation with laenor revealed that rhaenyra hasn’t cried since their wedding night over a year ago. harwin doesn’t need to love her to know she feels so alone in king’s landing, and he knows he isn’t the one she needs with her. he doesn’t move, though. it’s not his place to know what he knows, not his place to do anything but wait for his princess’ commands. he knows he won’t ever see the child inside of her laugh or smile or grow into a prince or princess of their own right. he knows he may never see rhaenyra laugh or smile again, but he doesn’t move. he should fetch a maestor. he should fetch the king, inform him of his daughter’s condition, but he knows what rhaenyra wants and she wants to die on her own terms. she has so little control over everything else in her life that harwin knows she needs control over this, even if his heart is breaking inside of his chest at the thought of his friend suffering alone. harwin strong stares blankly down the stairs away from rhaenyra’s chambers, waiting for death to come and claim the child. he waits for death to claim rhaenyra. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — rhaenyra’s body is tucked under the furs, the warmth doing nothing to combat the coldness settling deep inside of her chest. she is a dragon, she’s born from the ashes and forged with fire and blood, but she feels like ice. her father did always say aegon dreamed of the song of ice and fire. she just didn’t imagine it would be like this. the sheets under her body are soaked with blood and her entire body is covered in it, but she doesn’t move. her hair sticks to her forehead with sweat and her eyes are closed, whimpers of pain stifled into her pillow as she waits for the delivery of the child who is dead in her womb. she knows this happens. she’s seen it happen. she just never thought it would happen to her. viserys always said she was exactly like him. who knew she had been more like aemma all along? — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — rhaenyra survives the night. there’s no sign of a babe and harwin refuses to swap over with the other guards, telling them that rhaenyra requested he stay on. she didn’t, but he knows that she doesn’t want anybody else knowing about this, yet. she doesn’t want anybody to know who won’t respect her wishes. still, rhaenyra is the princess and she has obligations. harwin sends word with the guards he’s turned away to the king and queen that rhaenyra won’t be joining the small council meeting today because the babe is causing her to vomit again and she needs to rest. the guard returns with a note from viserys. harwin takes it, but doesn’t deliver it until the guard is long gone and he knows nobody is coming to check that they’re not lying. he walks to her door and knocks. “princess,“ he said. “come in,” rhaenyra’s voice comes faintly from inside. harwin steps in and closes the door behind him, wincing when the stench of blood hits his nose. it’s potent, impossible to ignore, and he can see the princess is lying in bed, the furs hiding her body. they’re not enough to hide the shaking, movements violent and jerky as the princess tries to breathe. “i told them you’re resting because the babe is giving you sickness again. your father sent a note,” harwin says, crossing the room and handing it to her. her hand is wet with blood and she wipes it on the furs, taking the scroll and opening it with a wince. my dear rhaenyra, i hope the babe is not giving you too much trouble. sickness with babes is common until your labours, i’m afraid. we will miss you today, but you won’t miss anything of importance. send for me if you need me. your father. rhaenyra holds it out to harwin. “burn it,” she whispers. harwin throws it into the embers of the fire in rhaenyra’s hearth, then adds extra firewood from the pile beside it to keep her warm. “can i get you anything?” he asks, going back to her side and sitting on the bed. he can feel the blood against his armour through the furs and he wants to scoop her up and carry her to a maestor himself, but he doesn’t. he won’t take this choice from rhaenyra. “i’m okay. thank you, harwin,” rhaenyra whispers, taking his hand in her own. dried blood is covering her fingers and her hand is freezing, and harwin feels tears stinging his eyes. rhaenyra still isn’t crying. harwin wonders if that’s because she accepted her death a long time ago. “what can i do? tell me how to fix this,” harwin begs, pleads, prays to the gods for just one thing he can do that’ll ease the pain of this woman. he’s supposed to protect her, but nobody can protect anybody. not from themselves, and not from their children or the gods. “you’re doing enough. keeping everybody away,” rhaenyra tells him. “how do you feel?” harwin asks. “like i’m going to die,” rhaenyra says, a wry smile on her face as she looks up at the ceiling. “a few more hours of this and you’ll be taking me to the dragon pit,” she adds. harwin squeezes her hand gently. he doesn’t want to do that, but he will. he’d do it for her. “i’ll bring you some food and water. perhaps a bath. i’ll bring it in myself. milk of the poppy, too,” he says. “no milk of the poppy. the rest sounds okay,” rhaenyra says. harwin nods, holds her hand for what could be the last time, and then stands. “i’ll be back shortly,” he promises. “don’t move.” “couldn’t if i wanted to,” rhaenyra says, and her grin is so out of place in this room. harwin wants to scream and beg her to let him get help, let him fetch a maestor who will probably find a way to let rhaenyra survive, but she doesn’t want that. if she’s going to die, she will, and she’ll do it alone because she feels alone. “you’re not alone, rhaenyra,” harwin says, watching her as he walks to the door. “i feel alone. my husband isn’t even here,” rhaenyra says. laenor was away at driftmark, due to return in two weeks so he had time before the birth of his child. harwin’s stomach sinks when he realises laenor will be returning for his child’s funeral, instead. “i can write-“ “no. no. it’s better this way,” rhaenyra says, shaking her head against her pillow with a low groan. harwin hesitates at the door. rhaenyra watches him, eyes exhausted and face paler than he’s ever seen. she looks like death has her wrapped in his clutches and harwin wants to save her, but he isn’t the one rhaenyra wants. he knows rhaenyra will never admit it, not after everything that’s happened, but she wants alicent. she wants someone who understands her completely, who’s seen this happen to aemma like rhaenyra herself did, who’s experienced the joy of childbirth and who can hold rhaenyra while she mourns for a child she’ll never hold again after the labour. but rhaenyra won’t ask, so harwin won’t get her. rhaenyra is too proud to ask for alicent anymore, and harwin both hates and admires how stubborn she is. then again, harwin recalls rhaenyra confessing she feels out of control around alicent, and she probably feels so out of control now. alicent won’t help matters. “will you let syrax out? it’ll take a while and i’d like a final ride,” rhaenyra says. “of course, princess,” harwin says. “i’ll get your food, water and bath, first.” “thank you. for… for everything,” rhaenyra whispers, and he can see the tears she won’t let fall and he knows he’s crying tears she can see because, fuck, rhaenyra targaryen isn’t supposed to die this way. she isn’t. “of course. you’re my friend,” harwin says, leaving her to go and get what she wants. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — harwin is stood guard three hours later. it’s into the late morning, now, and he can hear syrax screeching above the red keep as he circles rhaenyra’s tower. harwin doesn’t understand what it feels like to have a dragon, but rhaenyra told him that their souls are bonded once they’re claimed and harwin is starting to think that syrax can feel his rider’s pain. he knows people are suspicious, now. the princess left a small council meeting the day before, didn’t attend today, won’t let anybody but harwin near her chambers, and now she’s insisted on having her dragon set free so she can ride one last time. the dragon without rhaenyra brings questions, questions brought to harwin by servants of lords and by criston cole, the cunt who despises rhaenyra for refusing to run away with him and marry him a few years ago. “the princess doesn’t wish to be disturbed,” harwin repeats for what must be the fiftieth time since criston came with queen alicent’s question of why syrax was out without rhaenyra. “the queen requires an answer,” criston said. “and the queen can have the same answer i’ve told you for the past hour. princess rhaenyra does not wish to be disturbed, especially not over a matter as small as her dragon,” harwin says, voice bored and eyes cold as he stares at the knight. criston seems to realise he’s not getting anywhere with harwin, smart boy, and leaves with a glare aimed at harwin. he’s sure he hears criston mutter something about how the princess thinks she’s above the laws of gods and men, above the law of the queen, and harwin laughs quietly. criston has no idea about anything and harwin would kill him where he stood if it wouldn’t mean his own death. perhaps if rhaenyra does die, then he’ll do it. the world would surely be a better place without a bitter man like that, and a man like that at alicent’s side would just poison her mind when it’s time for the succession fight they all know will come for them. rhaenyra herself has moved from her bed. she’s in the bathtub, water freezing from how long she’s lay there, and it’s red. she can’t see her legs under the water and she sinks under, holding her breath as she tries to push this child out of her. but the child doesn’t come, and rhaenyra comes back up for air, whimpers falling from her lips as she struggles to her feet and climbs out of the tub. she wraps herself in a gown, walking to the balcony and pushing the doors open so she can watch syrax. syrax is circling her tower, feeling every ounce of pain rhaenyra is, and syrax lets out a cry that rhaenyra knows is a mirror of the sob choked behind closed lips. she doesn’t cry. syrax does it for her. she watches syrax for as long as she can stand, and then drags herself back to the bed. the sheets have been changed by harwin, the bloody ones bundled on the floor, and she sinks down onto the furs. she curls into a ball, clutching her stomach as she prays to the gods to just end this. she needs this child out before she’s forced to let syrax burn her where she stands, if she can even stand again. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — it’s an hour later when the queen herself comes. harwin watches her walk up the stairs with criston, her eyes firmly on harwin. his expression is blank. hers is furious. “i want to speak to princess rhaenyra,” alicent says. “the princess is resting. she doesn’t want visitors at this time,” harwin says. “i don’t care. i’m the queen,” alicent says. “i’m sworn to her, not to you, and she doesn’t want anybody here. including the queen,” harwin says. criston’s hand moves to his sword and harwin laughs. “strike me down, if you dare. you won’t survive,” harwin says, watching criston’s hand release his sword reluctantly. he knows harwin is right, and so does alicent, but she doesn’t give in. “can you tell her i’m here? at least?” alicent says. harwin stares at her for a few seconds before nodding once, turning and walking down the hallway to rhaenyra’s chambers. he knocks twice. “princess, the queen is here,” he says. rhaenyra doesn’t answer, and harwin pushes the door open, closing it shut behind him. rhaenyra is lying on the bed, fresh sheets now stained with blood. there’s not as much as before, but it’s still a lot, and harwin knows the end is near. she’s asleep, or she seems to be. he goes to check, sighing in relief when his warm fingers find a pulse against her cold neck. rhaenyra doesn’t even move at his touch and he smooths her sweaty hair out of her face, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “don’t die. please, don’t die,” he whispers. “i’m trying not to,” rhaenyra’s voice makes harwin smile, despite how week and feeble she sounds. “the queen is here. she wants to see you,” he says. rhaenyra flinches as a contraction shudders through her body, her hand grabbing harwin’s against her cheek and squeezing. her grip is so weak and harwin wants to cry again because, fuck, she really is dying, and she really is trying not to. “the queen,” rhaenyra repeats. “alicent.” “yes. what do you want me to say?” rhaenyra opens her eyes, and harwin can’t help but laugh at the words that fall from her lips. he promises to return in a moment, then leaves the room. alicent and criston are still stood where he left them and he walks over, putting his hand on his sword because he knows criston will pull his for the words harwin will repeat. “the princess told me to tell you that she doesn’t give a shit what you want. she doesn’t want any visitors during this time,” harwin says. criston does draw his sword, and alicent’s shocked face is enough to make harwin laugh out loud. this whole fucking situation is hilarious and infuriating and so fucking stupid at the same time, but harwin knows rhaenyra won’t want to make amends with alicent before she dies. she’s still trying to convince herself that she doesn’t give a shit about alicent and rhaenyra will die on that hill. “put your sword away, you fool,” harwin says. “you dare-“ criston starts. “i dare, the princess dares. i’ll spill your blood on these stones if you don’t do what she says and leave,” harwin says, placing a hand on the hilt of his own sword. “put it away,” alicent looks at criston, who sheaths his sword with a glare aimed at harwin. harwin watches him for a few seconds before sheathing his own. “is there anything else i can do for you, your grace?” harwin says, looking at alicent with a clear warning in his eyes. alicent stares at him for a few seconds. “is she okay?” she asks, and she sounds like the girl rhaenyra says she used to be. “she’s pregnant. i’m sure you know how exhausting it is,” harwin says. alicent nods, her hand ghosting over her own growing stomach. harwin realises that may be another reason why rhaenyra won’t see alicent; a reminder of what rhaenyra is actively losing, a reminder of what rhaenyra may die for; a child. “i’ll return later, and she will see me. or i’ll get the king involved,” alicent says. “feel free to do that,” harwin says, and alicent falters where she stands. her eyes are focused over his shoulder at rhaenyra’s door and harwin watches her pick at her fingers before she steels herself and nods. “i will,” she says, turning and leaving with her lap dog. harwin watches them leave, then goes and relays their message to rhaenyra. all she can do is groan weakly from the bed, words failing her as the pain takes over. “i think… i don’t think i’m making it until later,” rhaenyra whispers. harwin cups her cheek and kisses her forehead again. “fight. as long as you can. i beg you,” harwin whispers. rhaenyra doesn’t reply, another contraction taking over, and harwin holds her head against his as she groans and whimpers, her hands clutching her stomach. syrax screeches outside and harwin knows people have questions. something is wrong with the dragon, so something is wrong with the princess, but harwin won’t let anybody see her until she says. “i’m trying. i’m trying,” rhaenyra whispers when the pain lessens for a minute. harwin nods, kissing her forehead again before leaving to go and stand guard, waiting for alicent and her lap dog to return. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — it’s not until late that night when alicent returns, and she’s alone. her lap dog isn’t there, and neither is the king. she almost looks like a child, with how she keeps her eyes on the floor as she walks up the stairs. she doesn’t look like a queen. harwin watches as she comes to a stop in front of him. “can you tell her i’m here?” alicent asks. harwin walks back to rhaenyra’s room and opens the door, peering inside. she seems to be asleep, and harwin can see the ragged rise and fall of her chest so he knows she’s not dead. “she’s back,” he says softly. “she can fuck off,” rhaenyra rasps. harwin raises an eyebrow. “am i quoting you directly?” “i have no time left for false niceties. do what you want,” rhaenyra mumbles. he closes the door and walks down to alicent again. “she doesn’t wish to be disturbed,” he says again. “i don’t believe you,” alicent says. “her exact words were she can fuck off. my queen, i really don’t think you should be here,” harwin says. “something is wrong!” alicent says, and she’s glaring at harwin like he was the one who hurt rhaenyra. “syrax is out there and in pain and that means she is, and viserys refuses to believe it, but i know the truth. something is wrong and i demand to see her, or for you to tell me what is going on!” she says. and, even as she says it, she doesn’t sound like a queen. she sounds like a little girl who misses her best friend. harwin almost pities her. almost. “the princess is fine. she’s just-“ “exhausted with pregnancy, i heard, and i don’t believe you. something is wrong. is she in early labour?” alicent asks. “no. she’s fine,” harwin says. “she’s not fine!” alicent yells, and her voice echoes around the hallway and harwin knows rhaenyra heard her. “she is. she’s trying to sleep, so-“ harwin says, but alicent is sidestepping him and running towards rhaenyra’s room and harwin is running after her and grabbing her arm and pulling her away before she can open rhaenyra’s door. “get off me!” alicent yells. harwin does, once he’s positioned himself between her and the door. “i want to see her,” alicent says, and it’s a plea as much as it’s an order, and it’s a plea that breaks his heart because he knows he can’t let her. “she doesn’t want to see you,” harwin says, watching as alicent flinches at the words. “if she wants you, she’ll send for you. alright? but, please, alicent, please leave her alone. she’s fine. i swear it,” harwin says. a sob falls from alicent’s lips and her bitten fingers come up to cover her mouth, shoulders shaking with the effort of not sobbing in front of harwin. harwin isn’t heartless, as much as he dislikes alicent, and he places a hand on her shoulder and squeezes gently, much like he would do with rhaenyra. “i’m the queen,” alicent whispers. “i’m still not letting you in that door,” harwin says. “what is the point of being queen if i don’t get what i want?” alicent says and she sounds hysterical. if she stomped her foot, harwin would laugh. he sees where aegon gets his temper tantrums from. he doesn’t answer, watching alicent as she rubs her eyes until the tears leave. she looks up at harwin. “let me in.” “no.” “i command you-“ “alicent, stop,” harwin says, and she does. “i’m not letting you in until she tells me i can, and she’s made it very clear she doesn’t want to see you,” he says. and he expects alicent to leave when she nods, but she doesn’t. she simply sinks down onto the floor, leaning against the wall opposite him as she chews at her thumb. “what are you doing?” harwin asked. “i’m not leaving until i find out what’s wrong,” alicent says. “nothing is wrong. you’re not going in there,” he says. “i’ll send for the king,” alicent says. “do it, then. her answer won’t change,” harwin says. alicent doesn’t reply. she just chews at her thumb and harwin turns, slipping into rhaenyra’s room and closing the door behind him. “she’s refusing to leave and is now sat outside the door,” he tells rhaenyra, who rolls her eyes on the bed. “she’ll be there a long time,” rhaenyra says. “rhaenyra?” “harwin?” he crosses to her bed and takes her cold hand in his, kissing the back of it gently. “don’t die with regrets,” he tells her. “i have no regrets,” rhaenyra says. “everyone has regrets. even dragons,” harwin says. he leaves rhaenyra to think about his words, returning to his post outside her closed door. his own exhaustion is setting in from around thirty seven hours of standing guard without sleep and he sits against the door, opposite alicent. she just stares at the door, waiting like a child for their mother to finally come and get them after a boring adult duty she wasn’t privy to. harwin thinks she won’t be waiting long to see rhaenyra, in all honestly. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — it’s past midnight when rhaenyra finally starts making progress. it takes everything in her not to scream as she tries to push this child out of her, teeth biting deeply into the skin of her hand to stifle the sounds, tasting blood on her tongue. syrax screams for her, wings flapping and sending wind through rhaenyra’s open balcony doors. it’s soothing, knowing she isn’t really alone in this, as alone as she feels. a dragon in the dragon’s den shouldn’t feel so scared, but she does, and rhaenyra knows harwin is right. even a dragon has regrets. she doesn’t regret much. she’s done terrible things, but so has everybody in king’s landing and the gods will judge her when she meets them. she’s never cared about that. but she does regret pushing alicent away so much. it was justified, considering alicent married rhaenyra’s father and didn’t give rhaenyra a heads up before the world found out, considering alicent had sons and otto hightower would find any way to put them on the throne over rhaenyra, even if he isn’t the hand anymore. but she is dying and she’s labouring alone and she knows she’ll deliver a baby that’s cold and dead and she’ll be alone again, and that chills her to the bone. she doesn’t want to die alone. not like this, and not tonight, but she will and she knows she will and it’s her own fault for not getting help but at least it ends this way. at least the impending war dies with her and she doesn’t leave children behind without a mother. she doesn’t have anything else to live for. laenor will recover. harwin will. alicent hates her and viserys has finally gotten the son her mother died to give him. syrax will suffer, but she will find a new rider. perhaps one of alicent’s kids will claim her. perhaps one of daemon’s kids will. rhaenyra thinks she’d be okay with that. as long as syrax was happy. syrax let’s out a loud screech, like she can hear rhaenyra’s thoughts and is protesting them. rhaenyra can’t help but smile weakly as another pain rips through her abdomen. it won’t be long now, no, and she’s running out of time. she may survive, if she has help, but she’s been bleeding for too long and rhaenyra knows she’ll never recover from the trauma this will leave her with. but harwin begged her to keep fighting as long as she could. he didn’t ask her to change her mind and she respects him for that, loves him for it. if she survives, she knows she’ll still have him, and laenor will stay by her side when he returns and learns of the truth from her. he’ll grieve, but not for her, and that will be better. rhaenyra wants to call for harwin, wants to tell him she wants to see alicent, but her mouth refuses to do anything but let a scream slip through her lips as another contraction hits her and she feels the babe finally leaving her. “rhaenyra?!” alicent’s voice comes through the door within a second of her scream. rhaenyra can hear harwin’s armour hitting the wood and she knows he’s physically restraining alicent from coming inside, and she knows he wants to let her go and run inside to check she isn’t dead yet, but she can’t say anything, can’t do anything. she can’t even breathe properly, the sobs choking her throat falling short of her lips and leaving her tangled in a web of despair and grief and pain. rhaenyra can see her mother at the side of her bed, can hear her whispering for rhaenyra to just keep going and it’ll stop hurting soon, and she knows she’s too far gone. she’s hallucinating, now, because aemma is dead and gone and rhaenyra will be dead and gone by the morrow, too. “mother,” rhaenyra gasps out, reaching out for a ghost that isn’t there and whimpering when her blood stained hands move through empty air. she wants to be a child again, wants to be held by aemma when she can’t sleep and wants viserys to sing her a valyrian lullaby his mother sang him as a child, wants to feel like the world is hers if she dares take it. she wants to be safe and alive and she wants to do it all over again because she would do it differently and maybe she wouldn’t be dying tonight. “rhaenyra?” harwin knocks on the door and rhaenyra wants to scream. syrax does it for her. “rhaenyra!” harwin sounds panicked now and rhaenyra knows there’s no point trying to keep this a secret anymore. alicent knows something is wrong and so does half the kingdom, judging by how upset syrax is. “i’m okay!” rhaenyra manages to call back, but she doesn’t believe it herself and she knows they don’t either. and they don’t. harwin is blocking the door from alicent, but they’re both sharing looks like they know the same information, even when they don’t. harwin thinks alicent may have realised what’s going on, and he’s half tempted to let her go running into the room because he can see the tears staining her cheeks and her fingers are chewed and picked until they’re bleeding and she was the first one to shout rhaenyra after she screamed and he knows that she’s hurt rhaenyra but she’s here, now, and he doesn’t want rhaenyra to die before they can get some form of closure. “rhaenyra?” harwin knocks again. “rhaenyra, please let her in,” he says, and his head is against the door and he’s pleading for her to listen. “rhae, please,” he says, and he’s crying and so is alicent and he doesn’t know what to do except keep begging for rhaenyra to let alicent in so somebody can help her. alicent’s breathing is ragged beside his own and she’s wiping her tears, blood smearing on her cheeks from her fingers. she wants to run into the room and wrap rhaenyra up into her arms and protect her from what she thinks is happening in that room, but she knows she can’t until rhaenyra says. “rhaenyra,” alicent tries, placing a hand on the door. “nyra, it’s me. it’s ali. please let me in. please,” alicent cries, and it’s enough to make rhaenyra cry in her room because it’s ali and she’s nyra and they’re fourteen and nothing bad has happened yet. they’re happy and they’re together and rhaenyra loves her and alicent loves rhaenyra. “ali,” rhaenyra’s voice comes from the room, and that’s enough for harwin. he opens the door and lets alicent inside, closing the door over when he catches rhaenyra’s eyes and the look she gives him. alicent makes it halfway into the room before her mind catches up to her body and she freezes. there’s bedsheets on the floor stained red with rhaenyra’s blood, set beside the bathtub filled with red water and her balcony window is open, so she can hear syrax, but it’s not enough to rid the scent of blood and death in the air. rhaenyra herself is lying on her bed, the fresh bedsheets also stained with blood and rhaenyra clearly in labour. she’s wearing just a gown over her trembling body and alicent can see the blood on her legs and can hear the gasps rhaenyra is letting out as she tries to deliver the babe. “ali,” rhaenyra whispers, shaky hand outstretched, and that’s what breaks alicent. after everything, after what had happened, rhaenyra still needed alicent, and alicent still cared about rhaenyra, as much as they chose to deny it. “i’m here,” alicent walks over to the bed and grabs rhaenyra’s hand. she sits beside her, facing rhaenyra so she doesn’t have to look at her blood on the bedsheets, and she wants to cry at the look in rhaenyra’s eyes. it’s a look alicent has never seen before in rhaenyra’s eyes, a look she’s never seen before at all because people she’s loved have died, but she’s never actually seen them die with her own eyes and she thinks that this is rhaenyra staring death in the face and accepting what is to come. she is crying, and rhaenyra’s hands come to her cheeks and wipe the tears away like alicent is the one dying, and alicent can’t help but shatter in rhaenyra’s arms because it’s been so long since she’s been able to hold rhaenyra and she can’t face the fact that tonight is the last time she’ll ever do it. “ali,” rhaenyra whispers, those big eyes of her burning into alicent’s. “ali, it hurts,” she says, and what little happiness had crossed her face at alicent’s closeness is gone. she can’t ignore the pain, anymore, and alicent can’t ignore it, either. “i know,” alicent whispers. “we have to get it out.” “no!” rhaenyra’s voice is strangled. “it’s going to hurt and it’s going to kill me. i don’t want to die, ali. i won’t die like this, like my mother,” rhaenyra whispers, and she’s crying. for the first time since rhaenyra found out her father would marry alicent, she’s crying, and alicent is holding her for the first time in years and rocking her from side to side like rhaenyra is one of her children waking up from a nightmare. rhaenyra knows her nightmare won’t go away with a hug from alicent, but it feels easier to do this with alicent by her side. “you’re not going to die, nyra. i won’t let you. i forbid you to die,” alicent whispers into rhaenyra’s ear, her own eyes closed as tears stream down her cheeks and land atop rhaenyra’s silver hair, tinged with copper from almost two days of lying in her own blood. “you aren’t a god. you can’t choose who lives or dies,” rhaenyra whispers, and it’s so argumentative and so rhaenyra that alicent wants to laugh, but it just makes her cry harder because rhaenyra is right. she’s always right. alicent can’t choose who lives or dies, she isn’t a god, but she is a queen, and she’s going to do everything she can to keep rhaenyra alive. “we have to get it out of you. you’re not dying, you hear me? if you die, i’ll bring you back and shout at you,” alicent whispers. and, to alicent, they’re fourteen years old and rhaenyra is sneaking her through the hidden tunnels so they can go and see syrax when they should be sleeping and alicent is terrified of getting caught but rhaenyra is grinning at her with that smile reserved for alicent and alicent knows she’ll follow rhaenyra into the dragon’s flames, even now, because she loves rhaenyra more than she should and she’s wasted so much time hating her and rhaenyra is dying and alicent has no time left. rhaenyra nods and alicent forces herself to move. she sits properly on the bed between rhaenyra’s legs, already knowing no maestors will be allowed by rhaenyra, so she’ll have to deliver the child to try and save rhaenyra. alicent knows the child is dead, and she knows rhaenyra knows that, too. there’s nothing either of them can do to change that, but alicent is queen and that has to mean something because she has to save rhaenyra and if she can’t do that, what’s the point of having such a position of power at her fingertips? “you have to push. do you want harwin here, too?” alicent says, placing her hands on rhaenyra’s knees and looking her in the eye. “no,” rhaenyra says. “is he not the babe’s…” alicent trails off when a look flashes across rhaenyra’s face, a look that almost breaks their bubble of whatever this is. she’s reminded of who alicent is becoming, and alicent despises it. “i’m sorry,” alicent whispers, and she means she’s sorry for everything but she can’t get the words out because she’ll just start crying and she needs to focus right now and save rhaenyra before she dies and alicent is truly alone in this world. “it happened. once. i took moon tea,” rhaenyra whispers, head falling back against the pillow as she lets out a groan. “it hurts,” she whispers, and syrax lets out a screech that makes alicent flinch. “i know. you have to push, and i’ll try and pull it out. and, and we’ll cut the chord and get the afterbirth out, and we’ll stop the bleeding and you’ll be okay. okay, nyra?” alicent says, voice shaking as much as her hands. “okay, ali,” rhaenyra whispers, eyes falling shut as a grunt of pain slides through her lips. it’s the worst it’s been the whole time and rhaenyra can see aemma in the corner of the room, watching alicent and rhaenyra with a sad smile. tears soak rhaenyra’s cheeks and she cries, cries because she misses her mother so much but she doesn’t want to die. she doesn’t want to die like this. she’s supposed to do amazing things with her life. she wants to watch her siblings grow up and ride syrax and see the wonders of the world and eat only cake, and rhaenyra doesn’t jest about cake. “do you remember the day in the godswood? i wanted to fly syrax with you, see the wonders of the world and eat only cake,” rhaenyra whispers. alicent laughs quietly. “of course. rhaenyra targaryen does not jest about cake,” alicent says. “i want that. i still want that,” rhaenyra forces her eyes open. “i still want you,” she says, and alicent is staring back at her with utter agony and love on her face and rhaenyra grabs her, pulling her close enough to hug her. “i want you.” alicent’s hands find their way to rhaenyra’s hair and she presses a soft kiss to the crown of rhaenyra’s forehead, eyes closed as more tears slide down her cheeks. “i still want that, too. i still want you.” rhaenyra’s hands shake but she manages to cup alicent’s cheeks, alicent moving so they’re face to face. her skin is warm and rhaenyra can see dots of blood stained in her cheeks from wiping her tears with her bitten hands. alicent rests her forehead against rhaenyra’s, eyes closing as her hands move over rhaenyra’s. “we’ll do it. after you’ve healed. we’ll go on syrax and explore the world. you and me, ali and nyra,” alicent promises, and it sounds like a plea to the gods in the same breathe because she needs rhaenyra to survive. “we’ll do it,” rhaenyra whispers, and brushes her lips against alicent’s. alicent knows this is a sin, knows the gods will judge her when she dies and comes face to face with them, but if there’s anything to be worshipped in this world, it’s rhaenyra targaryen and alicent is fine with going to hell when rhaenyra’s kissing her like she is one of the wonders of the world, like alicent is the god rhaenyra is down on her knees praying to, like alicent is something holy to be worshipped. rhaenyra can’t hold the kiss for long, a whimper of pain falling from her lips and brushing against alicent’s. alicent wants to take all of rhaenyra’s pain, to swap their position in a heartbeat because she loves rhaenyra and she doesn’t get to die like this. alicent moves back between her legs and gets ready, telling rhaenyra to start pushing. rhaenyra’s hands tighten in the blood stained bedsheets, entire body soaked with sweat from the exhaustion. her eyes are screwed closed and her mouth is open, screams falling from those holy lips and alicent wants to kill the gods for ever allowing this to happen to her love. it takes a while, rhaenyra screaming and alicent trying not to cry like a baby, but the child is pulled out. it’s a boy, skin dark like his father’s and tufts of the silver targaryen hair already on his head. alicent knows that his eyes, eyes forever closed, would be violet. his body is cold to the touch, and alicent wants to scream because this isn’t fair and rhaenyra didn’t deserve to have her first child this way. alicent cuts the chord with a knife on rhaenyra’s bedside table, grabbing one of the furs discarded on the floor and wrapping the babe in it. she doesn’t quite know what to do with him, now. she has to help rhaenyra deliver the afterbirth so alicent can find a way for her to survive, but there’s no crib for the boy. it’s too soon, and it tempts the gods to do terrible things. something about rhaenyra clearly tempted them, anyway, and alicent swears she’s never praying again. fuck the gods. they have no mercy for rhaenyra, so alicent is done. “mother,” rhaenyra whispers, and her eyes are focused somewhere else in the room. alicent looks over and she knows nothing is there, knows aemma isn’t there because aemma is dead, and she isn’t. “nyra,” alicent says, laying the child on the bed at her side and looking at the woman again. “nyra, we have to sit you up. it’s easier for the afterbirth to come out,” alicent says. and then she’s cursing herself because she should’ve thought about sitting rhaenyra up earlier. perhaps the labour wouldn’t have been so long and painful if rhaenyra’s position was different. she doesn’t linger on it now, knows she’ll spend the rest of her life despising herself for not thinking better later, and focuses on helping rhaenyra onto her knees on the floor. alicent sinks down beside her, moving a basin underneath to catch the afterbirth, and her hands find their way back into rhaenyra’s hair, smoothing it away so she can see those beautiful violet eyes. “nyra,” alicent whispers. “how are you feeling?” “i don’t want to die,” rhaenyra whispers. alicent moves closer, wrapping rhaenyra into another hug like her touch is capable of healing the girl in front of her. “you’re not going to die. we have to see the world and eat cake, remember?” alicent whispers, pressing kisses to rhaenyra’s face where she can reach. “we’re almost there. i swear it.” rhaenyra nods, her hands moving to wrap around alicent’s arms as her whimpers pick up again, clear signs of the afterbirth coming. “harwin!” alicent calls, kissing rhaenyra’s forehead three times when a muffled scream is hidden in alicent’s dress. “what’s happened?” harwin bursts into the room, taking in the child on the bed and rhaenyra and alicent’s position. “i need you to get me some things. fresh sheets and furs, a new tub, milk of the poppy, anything the maestor has to help keep her alive, food and water. ale, too. quickly, harwin. we don’t have much time,” alicent says. “a maestor?” harwin asks. “nyra,” alicent says, and rhaenyra shakes her head. “no.” “i’ll be back,” harwin says, and he’s gone within a minute, the door closed again. alicent just holds rhaenyra as her body jerks from the aftershocks of birth still in her body. she sits herself against the bed, pulling rhaenyra onto her lap and ignoring the blood now starting to stain her dress because comforting rhaenyra matters more than a piece of fucking fabric. harwin returns within the hour, carrying in armfuls of sheets and fresh furs and then a bathtub and several buckets of hot water that alicent immediately half carries half drags rhaenyra towards. he brings food and water, and then an armful of vials and papers that he’s clearly stolen. “milk of the poppy, this is to help her sleep, this is for her strength, this is for-“ harwin starts listing off the uses of the vials as he puts them down. “i don’t want it,” rhaenyra whispers, and the room falls as silent as her dead child will forever remain. “nyra,” alicent starts, but finds she cannot finish. “i want to ride,” rhaenyra mumbles, eyes looking towards the balcony where syrax is still circling in the air. “you’re not strong enough, yet,” alicent tries, and rhaenyra shakes her head. “i’ll never be strong enough again,” she says, and alicent hates that rhaenyra is so sure of this fact. she hates that it’s the truth. try all they might, rhaenyra won’t live to see the sunrise. alicent thinks it’s a miracle she survived this long and she wants to blame rhaenyra for not fetching a maestor to help because early intervention could’ve prevented this, but rhaenyra felt alone and she was going to do this alone. alicent wasn’t going to let her die alone, however. “take me with you, then. let’s go for our ride and eat cake,” alicent whispers, wrapping her arms around rhaenyra’s waist and pulling her to her feet again. “my child,” rhaenyra stops when her eyes land on the bed. the tears come in full force and harwin wants to cry himself when rhaenyra pulls free of alicent’s grip and limps across the room, scooping up her child into her arms and resting her forehead against theirs. “a son,” alicent whispers. “my son,” rhaenyra whispers, her eyes falling shut as her chest heaves with sobs. “oh, my son. my sweet boy.” harwin does cry, then. he turns away from the moment, feeling like an intruder as he watches a mother mourn the son she never got to have. alicent doesn’t turn away. she moves to rhaenyra and hugs her again, her arm coming up to cradle the child as rhaenyra turns to hide her face in alicent’s neck. “my boy, ali,” rhaenyra cries, and alicent can’t do anything but press a kiss to her forehead. she knows they’re running out of time and she doesn’t know how the fuck she’ll explain this to viserys tomorrow, doesn’t know if she’ll even return off syrax without rhaenyra. she doesn’t spare a thought for her own children, her heart beating to the sound of rhaenyra’s name. “i know, my sweet. i know,” alicent whispers. rhaenyra holds the child for another minute before she nods in alicent’s neck. alicent lays him down, stares at his porcelain face, wonders how different things would’ve gone tonight if she had forced her way in the first time harwin said no to her. perhaps she could’ve saved them both, in another world. but in this one, she saved neither, and their ghosts will haunt her for the rest of her days. alicent takes rhaenyra to the balcony and syrax is there, waiting for her rider, perched atop another tower just below the balcony, perfectly level for rhaenyra to climb on. rhaenyra is weak, but the dragon blood in her comes alive and she grabs onto the saddle, pulling herself on with a stifled moan of agony. she settles herself, then holds out her hand for alicent with a real smile on her face. alicent takes it, carefully climbing over the balcony and grabbing onto the saddle. her hands are clammy and she wants to be terrified because this is a dragon she’s climbing onto, but how could she be terrified when she’s with rhaenyra? rhaenyra wouldn’t hurt alicent. not again. not after tonight. alicent climbs on behind rhaenyra, wrapping her arms around rhaenyra’s waist gently, not squeezing tightly in fear of agonising the girl further. she rests her head against rhaenyra’s shoulder, pressing three soft kisses to rhaenyra’s clammy throat. “rhaenyra,” harwin calls, hurrying to the balcony. “thank you,” he says. and alicent will never understand why this is what harwin chose as his last words, but rhaenyra does and harwin does, and alicent can ask him upon her return if she wants, but she knows this isn’t for her to understand. “thank you,” rhaenyra says in return. and then she’s laughing and syrax is pushing off the tower and alicent is gasping as she feels what it is like to fly on dragon back with rhaenyra for the first and last time in her life. she closes her eyes to revel in the feeling of the wind in her hair, the heat of the summer sun burning into her skin, rhaenyra’s pulse weakly against her lips as alicent kisses her neck again. “look, ali. look at how beautiful it is,” rhaenyra whispers. alicent opens her eyes and looks out at king’s landing. they’re higher than the red keep goes and alicent can’t even make out people in the streets or hear anything but rhaenyra’s breathing anymore, and it’s breathtaking. it feels so wrong to be doing this, especially when alicent knows she is not a dragon and dragon blood does not course through her veins. syrax let’s out a screech beneath them and alicent knows it’s insane, but the dragon sounds like she’s furious with alicent’s thoughts of believing she isn’t supposed to be doing this. “syrax is right. you’re as much her rider as i am, now,” rhaenyra whispers, turning her head to rest her forehead against alicent’s. alicent closes her eyes, kisses rhaenyra until they’re both breathless. she cradles rhaenyra’s face in her hands, thumbs brushing over her cheeks, and she opens her eyes. “i’m in love with you,” alicent whispers. rhaenyra’s eyes flutter open, half lidded like that’s all she has the energy for. alicent can practically feel rhaenyra’s body collapsing as she holds her and she knows they have minutes left, at most. tears stream down her cheeks and rhaenyra has tears to match, eyes soft and so broken at the same time. “i’m in love with you,” rhaenyra whispers. “i never wanted this to happen.” “i know.” “you should’ve gotten a maestor. this shouldn’t have happened!” “i know.” “you’re leaving me behind!” alicent is hysterical and she hates that she’s lashing out at rhaenyra. it’s not rhaenyra’s fault she’s dying, but alicent wants to blame her so she can share the guilt that’s already embedded in her heart, coursing through her veins with every beat that rhaenyra’s heart won’t create anymore. “i know,” rhaenyra whispers, and she’s not even angry at alicent. “you’re going to be a ghost to me,” alicent cries, and that’s what makes rhaenyra kiss her like alicent is the only god in the world that ever mattered. “i know,” rhaenyra whispers. “you’re going to haunt me forever,” alicent cries. “i’m sorry,” rhaenyra says, and it’s more than a fact. it’s a beg for alicent to forgive her for everything. “i’m sorry,” alicent kisses her again, pulling away when she feels rhaenyra’s breathing start to slow. “i forgive you. please stop blaming yourself, especially for this. at least i got to spend my last minutes with you, up in the skies, doing what we always dreamed of,” rhaenyra mumbles. alicent weeps. the gift of forgiveness is one thing rhaenyra didn’t have to give alicent, but one she gave all the same. alicent will always blame herself for this, but it’s a relief knowing rhaenyra doesn’t. “i love you, nyra. you’re mine, forever. haunt me. at least i will still have you,” alicent whispers. “i am yours, and you are mine,” rhaenyra whispers back, eyes rolling shut as she drags her head against alicent’s shoulder with a groan. “i love you. i always will.” alicent holds her. she rests her chin on rhaenyra’s shoulder, arms wrapped tighter around rhaenyra’s chest while rhaenyra’s hands hold her weakly in place. her eyes are closed, body entirely focused on the weak pulse in rhaenyra’s neck coming to a slow stop. alicent kisses her throat when it stops, burying her face in her neck and sobbing for the love she lost before they got to do it right. she screams, and syrax screams with her, and alicent can only hold onto rhaenyra’s body as syrax starts flying towards the castle again. alicent doesn’t know what she’ll tell viserys or anybody else who questions tonight’s events. she imagines everybody will have questions. she doesn’t even think she could speak, if she wanted to. she just holds rhaenyra for the last time, clinging on to any last hint of what could’ve been while she can. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — alicent barely remembers what happened after syrax landed at rhaenyra’s tower again, harwin waiting on the balcony with tears in his eyes. she thinks she managed to get rhaenyra off syrax and hand her over to harwin, syrax standing guard with her eyes firmly on rhaenyra’s body as harwin carries her to the bed. she knows he staged a scene, a way for rhaenyra’s death not to be questioned. harwin knows the rumours surrounding alicent’s desire for aegon to be the heir and he doesn’t want anybody thinking alicent had something to do with rhaenyra refusing help from the maestors. he knows alicent won’t cope with her last hours with rhaenyra being tarnished by that foolish idea. alicent isn’t sure of the details of the scene, but she overhears people muttering as she walks lifelessly through the red keep. they say harwin and alicent found her like that, the babe already delivered and dead when rhaenyra died herself. alicent doesn’t utter a single word. viserys asks her what happened, crying for his only daughter with aemma, crying for the last of the family he once had, but alicent can’t do anything but cry and viserys stops asking when he watches her sobs turn to vomiting and maestors fret over the babe she is still carrying. as far as alicent knows, nobody knows about the dragon ride except herself, harwin and rhaenyra. one of said people are dead, and the other two are bound in honour to her and would die themselves before sharing this treasured memory with anybody. laenor returns and he sends for alicent to join him, and she cries again when he hugs her and tells her that rhaenyra loved her to the end, he’s sure of it. she can’t speak, can’t reciprocate his kind words with anything but a tight hug and tears. laenor tells her that he named their son rhaegar, after the babe’s mother. he cries when he admits he should’ve been there, and alicent thinks things may have been different if he was. the funeral is the worst day since rhaenyra’s death. they gather at dragonstone, rhaenyra and rhaegar together in one coffin at laenor’s request. syrax is perched upon the grass behind the coffin, eyes resting on rhaenyra’s coffin and small whines huffed into the air by a grieving dragon. their entire family is there, laena, her unborn child, and daemon, then rhaenys, corlys and laenor. viserys, alicent, aegon and helaena finish the line, with otto hightower standing behind them with the rest of the royal court. harwin is stood beside alicent at her silent request, an understanding passing between the two as she tugged him to stand beside her. when she gets her voice back, she’ll swear him into her service if he wants that. she thinks he will. the two of them are the only ones who know the truth about rhaenyra’s passing and there’s something so sacred about that alicent must cherish by keeping harwin close. daemon speaks for rhaenyra, as viserys, alicent and laenor can’t find the words to even begin describing the princess. daemon waits for viserys’ minute nod before ordering syrax to burn the coffin. for a minute, alicent wants to run forward and launch herself over the coffin, to burn into ash with rhaenyra and be reunited wherever their souls may end up after this life is ended. but harwin’s hand is already wrapping around her arm and alicent wants to cry because syrax isn’t burning the coffin and the waiting is worse because she doesn’t want to do this without rhaenyra and she wants to go wherever rhaenyra goes. she would’ve followed her to the end of the world, if rhaenyra had asked. daemon commands syrax again, but no flames come from the dragon. rhaenys looks at laenor, who shakes his head. he cannot command syrax. syrax never took to him as she took to rhaenyra. “alicent,” harwin breathes beside her, and alicent looks up from the coffin. her eyes meet with syrax’s and her breath catches in her throat. something changes when alicent stares at syrax and it all makes sense, now. syrax and rhaenyra understood each other’s souls. rhaenyra and alicent’s souls were forever intertwined. when rhaenyra was dying, she said alicent was just as much syrax’s rider as she was. alicent knows what she has to do, and she knows that this will raise questions, but she’ll take them all and stay silent. alicent swallows roughly, opening her mouth and imagines rhaenyra whispering high valyrian to her during their days in the godswood, rhaenyra having insisted on teaching alicent so they could have private conversations without being overheard. “dracarys,” alicent speaks clearly and for the first time in days, perhaps weeks, now. she isn’t sure. syrax stares at her for a few seconds before she opens her mouth, the fire landing on rhaenyra’s coffin and turning it into ashes. alicent keeps her eyes on rhaenyra’s dragon, her dragon, and syrax screeches when she stops burning rhaenyra’s coffin. alicent knows she was echoing the screams alicent let out on the night rhaenyra died in her arms. “alicent,” viserys mumbles, and she knows everybody is staring at her. she doesn’t care, though. she may not have the blood of the dragon, but her soul belongs to rhaenyra targaryen and rhaenyra’s soul belongs to her. she has rhaenyra’s dragon as her own and she has their last hours as her own. a gust of wind blows against alicent’s face and, for a second, she thinks it’s rhaenyra’s hand brushing against her cheek. alicent fights back a sad smile. rhaenyra did say she would haunt her.