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Gossip Girl

- The Moon & her Star (Luna la x f!reader): Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

House of the Dragon

- The Queen and her Lady (Alicent x f!reader)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Summary Chapter 9 Summary Chapter 10 Summary

- Bastard King (Alicent x f!Reader)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

-Abandoned (Rhaenyra x f!reader): x

-Dragon Ride (Laena x f!reader) x

-The Language of Girls (teen!alicent x f!reader) x

- A Most Faithful Companion (alicent x f!reader) x

-Mother, Maiden, Crone (alicent x f!reader) x

-Home for the Holidays (modern au! Alicent x f!reader) 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

- The Queen’s Ward (Book!Alicent x f!reader) x

Madame Web

-And They Were Roommates (Cassie Webb x f!reader) x    

Law and Order: SVU

- Her (Casey Novak x f!Reader)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Severance

-The Best of Her (Helly R x f!Reader)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Superman

- Glass Child (Lois lane x f!Reader) x

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Gen V

-Double-Crossed Heart (Cate Dunlap x f!Reader)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

-When Love isn’t Enough (Marie Moreau x f!Reader) x

Starfleet Academy

- Losing Streak (Genesis x f!Reader) x 

The Pitt

- Jealousy, Jealousy (Cassie McKay x f!Reader) x

-Professionally Unprofessional (Cassie McKay x f!Reader)

Part One Part Two

- Bad Idea, Right? [Women of the Pitt react] x

-I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You (Cassie McKay x f!Reader) x

-Jealous Type [Women of the Pitt react] x

-Monthly Maintenance (Cassie McKay x f!Reader) x 

-Heated Rivalry (Trinity Santos x f!Reader)  Pt. 1 Pt.2

Francesca chased after (y/n), the rain soaking her dress and undergarments, but she didn’t care. She needed answers.

“Why do you hate me so?”

(y/n) scoffed, her back still to the taller woman as she marched towards the house. 

“I don’t think of you enough to hate you,” she spat.

Floored, Francesca stopped dead in her tracks. 

“Truly?”

At the lack of footsteps (y/n) whirled around. Her heart softened at the sight.

Tears welled in Francesca’s eyes as she stood, her chest heaving from the exertion of trying to catch (y/n).

“You truly never think of me?” Francesca asked, her breath just above a whisper.

(y/n)’s throat dried. 

She did not mean to hurt the younger woman. She had not meant for any of this. All she wanted was one last summer before her mother shipped her off to London to be bought and sold like cattle on the marriage market.

So (y/n) cast her gaze to the side. 

The summer monsoon was an unexpected freak accident.

But the humidity did little to warm the coldness of (y/n)’s demeanor in Francesca’s eyes. 

“All I have done since I have arrived is think of you. You, and not my husband…your brother,” Francesca confessed, quivering and stuttering. 

(y/n)’s gaze snapped back onto Francesca. 

“You don’t mean that. Please don’t say things like that,” (y/n) chided. 

“It is the truth!” Francesca protested. 

“Is it folly,” (y/n) cursed back as she marched up to Francesca. 

(y/n) stopped just short of the taller woman. She looked up at Francesca and swallowed hard. She hadn’t been so close to her in weeks. 

“You are my demise Francesca Bridgerton,” (y/n) breathed unsteadily. 

A tear fell down Francesca’s cheek, easily masked by the rain. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized tenderly. 

So tenderly that it tugged at (y/n)’s heartstrings. 

(y/n) reached up and cupped Francesca’s cheek. It was warm under her touch. 

Francesca leaned into the contact. 

“You are my brother’s wife. I should not think of you,” (y/n) said without conviction.

Francesca’s gaze dropped as she nodded slightly, not wanting to part from (y/n)’s touch. 

“But I do think of you….”

Francesca’s gaze shot back up to meet (y/n)’s. “You do?”

(y/n) let out a great sigh then smiled, relieved. 

“Morning, noon, and night. You haunt my dreams and when I wake I cannot rid my mind’s eye of your pink lips or gentle gaze.”

Blush crept across Francesca’s features. Her gaze softened. 

(y/n) stroked Francesca’s cheek with her thumb. 

“Then why do you rebuke me so brusquely when I attempt to know or spend time with you,” Francesca asked as she closed the small gap between the two women.

(y/n)’s breath hitched in her throat at the closeness. 

“Because I cannot have you as I wish to. It is easier to push you away than it is to hold you this close knowing you will never be mine,” (y/n) professed.

Francesca brought her forehead against (y/n)’s. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, slowly. 

“If I had known you first…,” she dreamed wistfully. 

(y/n) let out a bitter laugh. 

“You would have thought me a great prospect for friendship.”

Francesca sighed, knowing that it took weeks for her to realize what she felt for (y/n) went deeper than friendship. The breadth and depth of her feelings scared her at first as she had never felt such things for John. Though she cared for her husband deeply it paled in comparison to the roaring bonfire that raged within her whenever (y/n) was near. 

Francesca shivered.

(y/n) noticed the amount of goose pimples that covered Francesca’s arms. She pulled away from her and laced her fingers with Francesca’s. 

Then (y/n) led Francesca to the shack next to them that contained all the family’s sporting equipment. 

In it she found an old blanket, but it was clean from what she could tell. So she wrapped it around Francesca as best she could given the height difference. 

“I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

Francesca frowned. “What about you?”

(y/n) smiled. “I am warmed by your very presence.” 

Blush returned to Francesca’s cheeks. She lowered her gaze. 

“We can wait out the rain here,” (y/n) stated then cleared an old bin and flipped it upside down for Francesca to sit down. 

Francesca did so then patted her lap. 

(y/n)’s brow furrowed. 

“You can’t stand the whole time. Who knows how long the rain will last,” Francesca reasoned. 

The following morning Cassie woke up to an empty bed. 

Anxiety crawled up her back. Had you regretted it?

Then she saw the folded up piece of paper on her nightstand with her name on it.

She grabbed and unfolded it. 

It was from you, of course, and you told Cassie you had to run home to shower and get clean clothes. That you would meet her at work.

And that you very much meant every word you said the previous night. 

It would not be a one time thing.

Cassie smiled lazily and got up to get ready for work. 

She hastily showered and threw on clean scrubs before rushing to grab a protein shake from her fridge. 

Cassie got into her car and headed for PTMC.

Upon her arrival Cassie was instantly cornered by the scooby gang.

Trinity leaned against the staff lockers. 

“So?” She asked with a raised brow. 

Cassie continued to shove her things in her locker.

“So what,” Cassie replied. 

“How did things go with you and Dr. (y/l/n),” Victoria pressed. 

Cassie closed her locker and turned towards the med students. 

Dennis, to his credit, looked sheepish but his ears were absolutely perked up to hear the gossip.

“Nothing happened,” Cassie lied and tried to push past them.

“I don’t buy that,” Trinity rebuffed.

“I don’t either,” Victoria agreed.

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Sorry to disappoint kids.”

As she made her way towards the center of the Pitt she was stopped by a pair of hands that pulled her into an empty room with the privacy curtain pulled.

Cassie was about to protest but then she turned to see the hands that pulled on her were yours. 

She smiled softly. “Hey you.”

You wrapped your arms around Cassie’s shoulders. 

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

Cassie’s arms snaked around your waist. 

-Summary of rest below-

Cassie is a little awkward but you take it all in stride

You tell Cassie the two of you will have to keep things on the low until Robby returns, for the sake of professionalism.

Cassie understands, she just can't believe she found someone like you. 

Keeping things on the low doesn’t stop you from throwing flirty looks Cassie’s way every time the two of you are near each other. 

Looks that end with flirty touches

Cassie swears the others will notice but they don’t.

The scooby gang eventually wears Cassie down.

So she swears them to secrecy if she tells them the truth

“Scout’s honor,” Trinity says.

“You were a scout?” Dennis replies, confused.

They are not surprised but so happy for Cassie.

-

A week later you and Cassie have given up trying to keep things lowkey. 

You’re about to leave anyway, and HR doesn’t care.

So Cassie does small caring things like bring you a morning coffee or rub your shoulders after a tough trauma case.

“You’re so whipped,” Trinity teases.

But she lowkey ships the two of you.

Cassie has never been so happy.

She sort of hopes Robby doesn’t come back. 

The two of you haven’t had a serious conversation of what post PTMC looks like for you both.

Cassie knows it’s a convo you two should have had but she doesn’t want to pop the bubble of bliss you are both in.

-

Robby comes back in four days.

You and Cassie are in your apartment, post coital bliss as the two of you lay languidly entangled in one another

As Cassie gazes at you she realizes her feelings are getting real, they’re getting serious. They were already but now…it feels bigger than she thought it would.

So she asks the big question.

What’s the plan?

A conversation that can no longer be avoided. 

But that doesn’t stop you from trying. 

Cassie won’t let you though, she needs to know.

You’ve met Harrison for christ sake, this isn’t a game to her.

You reassure her it’s not a game to you either, but it’s complicated. 

You explain that before you and Cassie got together you were approached about a position at Whitebridge Hospital

Cassie is overjoyed. It’s local and it’s a permanent position, it’s perfect.

But

You were also recently approached by one of the PTMC board members about a position at one of his hospitals in Chicago

Cassie’s face falls, and her heart sinks.

She knows whatever Whitebridge will pay you pales in comparison to a fancy hospital in Chicago. 

So it gets awkward and quiet.

After a few infinite moments Cassie asks you what you’re going to do.

You confess you aren’t sure. The Chicago offer was before you and Cassie got together so you wanted that one but now….now you don’t want to leave her.

Cassie doesn’t want you to leave either but she wants you to think about your career too. Cassie doesn’t want to hold you back.

You tell Cassie the hospitals don’t need an answer from you just yet. A decision doesn’t have to be made at that very moment. 

Cassie spends the night but she can’t sleep. 

She’s fallen so deeply in love with you, she doesn’t want to think of how lonely life without you will feel. 

-

Cassie walks into the pitt, upset. 

Robby is back today. 

The two of you had a fight the night before, about you not taking the job in chicago for cassie’s sake. 

Cassie feels horrible about the fight, she bought you your favorite coffee as a gesture of her apology. 

She just doesn’t want you to resent her for staying.

Robby says hello, and asks where you are. 

Cassie asks Robby why she would know.

Robby smiles, dana and princess got him up to speed on cassie and you.

Cassie laughs, tells robby they had a bit of a spat so she doesn’t know but you are always on time- will probably be there in a few to hand everything off to him.

Then she goes about her morning, putting things away in her locker, doing the rounds for the night shift hand offs.

When Cassie gets a chance to catch her breath she realizes you’re still not in. 

She pulls out her phone, no missed calls or texts. 

She sends you one.

That’s when dana tells cassie incoming trauma, crash on the highway, patient in critical condition.

Robby has cassie jump on it with him.

When the paramedics wheel the patient in they all realize it’s you.

You’re unconscious. 

Cassie panics.

Robby tells her she’s off the case but cassie won’t hear it

So robby drops it and they wheel you into the trauma bay.

It’s touch and go for several minutes, they lose you then bring you back then lose you a second time.

Cassie starts to get a panic attack and dana pulls her out

Cassie doesn’t want to but they bring you back so she follows dana out. Robby promises he’s gonna do everything he can.

Cassie nods then goes to sit down in the breakroom with Dana.

She’s crying, sobbing, and Dana is comforting her. 

The scooby team, minus samira and santos who were with robby, also comfort her. 

When she calms down she goes back out. you are being rushed up to the OR.

Cassie watches. 

Garcia tells Cassie she’s not gonna lose her girl on her watch.

Cassie tries to go back to work but robby won’t have it. 

So she goes up to wait for you. She gets anxious.

Dana comes up to check on her for a bit then goes back down.

Cassie has chad pick up Harrison even though it’s her day.

It’s hours later when Garcia comes out with news

You are stable for now, but unconscious and Garcia isn’t sure if you’ll pull through or not. They just have to wait and see.

Cassie’s heart breaks and she goes to your room and sits by the bedside.

Cassie apologizes for fighting, tells you the truth about why she insisted she go to Chicago.

you don't wake up.

-

Two days later, you are still in a coma. 

Cassie hasn’t gone back to work. 

She’s devastated.

Her mom comes by, with fresh clothes, cassie hasn’t left your side.

Her mom tells her Harrison wants to visit.

Cassie doesn’t want Harrison to see you in that condition.

Her mom tells her you will pull through, you are a tough girl.

Cassie hopes her mom is right.

Then the scooby team comes to visit with flowers and balloons. It’s awkward but they show their support.

Cassie ends up falling asleep.

She’s awoken that night by someone coming into your room.

It’s a woman, not much older than Cassie.

The woman demands to know who Cassie is.

Cassie demands to know who the woman is.

“I’m her mother.”

Cassie is embarrassed. Introducing herself.

“So you’re the girlfriend?” Mom asks, visibly disapproving.

Cassie is awkward but tells your mom everything.

your mom dismisses cassie, she can go now that your mom is there.

Cassie respectfully disagrees. She’s not leaving your side.

They clash a bit but cassie stays.

-

Weeks pass, still in a comma.

Cassie is back at work, during her breaks and lunch she goes up to check on you.

Your mom is there, she’s been very attentive and now she and cassie are friendly.

In the pitt everyone kinda tiptoes around cassie

She hates it but she also knows she is very fragile at the moment.

She gets the sick dying woman from season two, and it triggers cassie.

She breaks down in the breakroom. 

Samira holds her, tells her she’ll cover her patients.

Cassie goes up to your room. Your mom steps out.

Cassie cries over you, begs you to wake up, she’s a mess without you. She can’t lose you.

The two of you didn’t have enough time. 

There was so much more cassie wanted to do with you.

She sobs.

-

Months pass. 

It’s not any easier for cassie but she’s sort of in denial a bit. 

Work is back to normal for her

She doesn’t visit you as often.

Then your mom goes down to the pitt, tells her they need to talk.

Your mom tells cassie the doctors approached her about taking you off life support.

No sign you would ever wake up.

Cassie asks your mom what she’s going to do.

Mom isn’t sure, that’s why she wanted to talk to cassie.

Cassie says it’s not up to her.

They fight, your mom says she thought cassie loved you, guess she was wrong.

Cassie feels like crap.

After the shift she goes up to see you.

She hasn’t seen you in a few weeks.

Your mom isn’t there, the nurse says she went to her hotel for some rest.

Now alone with you she holds your hand. 

She apologizes for not seeing you. It just hurts too much to see you like that.

But she thanks you, for loving her and letting her love you even if it wasn’t enough time even though she wanted so much more time with you.She was thankful she had you at all.

Then she kisses you and goes to leave.

Your heart spikes and it’s a code blue. 

They manage to bring you back, and your eyes flutter open.

“Cassie?”

Relief washes over her. You’re back.

She presses her forehead against yours. 

“Never leave me ever again.”

You did not sleep for very long. 

You were roused from sleep by a serving girl. She informed you that your father was dead.

You immediately stood and asked what time it was. 

The hour of the wolf, the servant told you.

You instructed her to get your boots. She did so and helped you put them on. 

Then you asked who else knew.

The girl told you only you and the Queen knew. She came to you by order of her Grace.

You nodded then told her to gather the rest of the small council.

She left to awake the men and you braced yourself against your bedpost.

This was the last thing you needed. Of all the nights, your father had to die as your world fell apart in front of you.

A part of you felt like you should go to him, to see he was truly gone, but as you turned the thought over in your head you realized you did not wish to see him. You wanted to remember your father alive, not whatever shell of a man lay on his bed.

So you made your way to the small council chamber instead.

You were not the first one there.

Alicent sat in her usual seat.

Had Otto not gotten your message?

She turned to you as you entered. She stood up.

“(y/n),” she breathed, fresh tears in her eyes. 

Did she not tire of crying? You briefly thought.

Alicent walked to you but you brought your hand up to stop her. 

The heartbreak on her face was plain. She lowered her gaze.

“Did your father not inform you that I relieved you of your seat on the small council?” You asked formally.

Her gaze shot back up to you. “You’re casting me out?”

You looked away from her and walked towards your seat at the head of the table.

Alicent scoffed. 

“Have I not been properly punished for my betrayal? Was hearing your wife debasing herself for you not enough?”

“I need you to see to my father,” you replied dispassionately, your back to her.

She was quiet for a moment then sighed. 

“As you wish, your Grace,” she spat.

You heard the click of her slippers grow fainter as she left the room.

Once she was gone you let out a deep breath then sat down in your seat. You buried your face in your hands. 

What in the seven hells were you going to do? Announce your father’s passing and allow the men to draw up the banners of war?

Your small council entered, their appearances hastily put together.

The men sat down. 

Otto turned to you. “Who knows?”

“Aside from those in this room, Alicent and a few of the servants.”

He stroked his beard in thought.

Lord Tyland Lannister looked around. “Know what? Was Dorne invaded?”

“My father is dead,” you spoke plainly. 

Lord Tyland’s face paled. 

Otto cleared his throat. “We grieve for Viserys, the peaceful.”

The men around the room nodded solemnly. Then they shared uneasy glances. 

You knew what they were all thinking. With Viserys gone they no longer had to pretend they supported you as King.

So you stood and placed your hands upon the table.

“If any amongst you wish to depose me and install Aegon as King now would be the time to slay me where I stand and do so,” you commanded.

The men of the small council averted your gaze. 

You turned to Otto and placed the dagger from your belt in front of him.

“Go on, my hand. Do what you have craved to do since Aegon was born,” you challenged.

Otto looked down at the dagger then back up at you.

“I swore my loyalty to you, your Grace, and I am not a man who betrays my oaths.”

Then you looked at the other men. 

“We are with you, your Grace,” Grand Maester Orwyle affirmed.

You swallowed and nodded. “Very well, let us turn to the task that lays before us.”

“The King is correct,” Otto began, then turned to look at the others. “There is much to be done as we previously discussed. Now, there are two among the captains of the city watch that remain loyal to Daemon. Let us replace them.” 

“My uncle will no doubt call on his bannermen and allies to measure the strength of his forces,” you stated as you sat back down. 

“We shall do the same,” Otto replied, then looked at Tyland. “Lord Lannister.”

Tyland informed the council of the state of the treasury. The men discussed how certain they were of the realm's Houses allegiance to you. Some were obvious, Highgarden and Winterfell, while others were certainly against you, Storm’s End.

But those were all known factors. 

You cleared your throat and drew the men’s attention back onto you. 

“What of my uncle and his family?”

Otto glanced at the other members of the council nervously then back to you. 

“They cannot be allowed to remain free and draw support to their claim.”

“You mean to imprison them?”

You knew what Otto really wanted, what needed to happen, but you did not want it to continue to go unsaid.

Otto let out an exasperated sigh. He knew what you were angling for, and he did not want to be the one to say it aloud.

“He and his family will be given the opportunity to publicly swear obeisance to you, your Grace.”

You pursed your lips then frowned. “You know as well as I that Daemon will never bend the knee.”

Silence descended upon the council, none would meet your gaze.

“If that is the case, we are left with little choice in the needed course of action,” Otto replied solemnly. 

“I do not rejoice in the thought of killing my uncle,” you stated then shook your head softly. “But if he will not bend the knee we will do as we must.”

The silence and averted gazes continued. 

You furrowed your brow and turned towards Otto.

He slowly lifted his gaze towards you. “Heirs must not remain to challenge your reign, your grace.”

You scoffed at him then looked around the council. The men shared uneasy glances. 

“You plan to kill his children?” You asked in disbelief. 

“Just the boys. His daughter can remain your ward and wed Prince Baelon when they are both of age,” Tyland clarified meekly.

You leaned back in your seat. The truth of the matter sank inside you like a rock in a pond.

“Aegon and Viserys are boys of two and ten,” Grand Maester Orrwyle stressed, “Prince Daemon’s supporters would only shift their allegiance to them upon his passing. Any living challenger invites battle and bloodshed.”

You clenched your jaw. “What of his son Aemon? Is he to be killed as well? A boy of only six.”

The council averted their gazes once more. 

Otto leaned towards you. “It is unsavory, yes,” he reassured you, “...but a sacrifice we must make to secure your reign.”

“I will not be known as the kinslaying butcher of children,” you denounced in frustration and slammed your fist upon the table. 

The men squirmed in their seats. 

“What do you suggest, your Grace?” Otto questioned.

You did not have an answer. 

He knew that.

So you pushed off your seat and turned towards the opposite wall to think.

“Time is of the essence,” Otto urged. 

You sighed and closed your eyes.

This was not what your father would have wanted. That much you were certain of.

“Lord Commander Westerling take your knights to Dragonstone. Be quick and be clean,” Otto commanded.

The rustle of your Kingsguard’s armor rang in the otherwise quiet room. 

“I am Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. I recognize no authority but the King’s.”

You turned back around. 

Ser Harrold looked at you.

“Is that what you command of me, your Grace?”

Everyone else’s gaze followed.

You bit the inside of your cheek. 

The slaughter of innocent children was not a command you could dole out.

So you cleared your throat and spoke authoritatively. 

“I shall leave and upon my return I expect you all to have gracious terms of surrender to present to my uncle.”

The men of the small council shared judgemental looks with one another. 

You continued. “We have the advantage on the dragon front. Even Daemon is not foolish enough to believe he can go up against the likes of Vhagar and Vermithor.”

Some of the men nodded, expressing they had not considered that.

You started for the doors but Otto’s voice stopped you.

“A raven arrived last night and given the festive nature of last night’s supper I did not want to interrupt but Prince Qoren is once again delaying the wedding of Prince Aemond and his daughter, the Princess Coryanne.”

You grimaced at the mention of House Martell. What you once believed to be the beginning of a prosperous union had devolved into yet another of your failures.

“Should Prince Daemon not bend the knee we must know the Dornish’s true position,” Otto finished coldly.

You didn’t reply. You started anew for the doors.

Once outside you made your way to your aunt’s quarters where she had been joined by Lord Corlys mere hours ago.

Otto ordered all the members of court be confined to their quarters, and the servants taken to the cells below until decisions had been made. 

He did not want the word of Visery’s death spread too soon.

Only the small council, your wife, and your children were given the freedom of movement.

The guard opened the door to Princess Rhaenys’ room and you took a fortifying breath before walking in.

You knew your aunt would be irate and as you stood in front of her you noted just how correct your assumption was.

Rhaenys whirled on her heels to face you. “I will do you the considerable courtesy to assume there is a good reason for the outrage of my treatment here this morning.”

You swallowed hard. “I apologize, Princess. There has been a tragedy and I-”

The words caught in your throat. You looked down at your feet. It was as though the truth of your father’s death was finally setting in now that you were not surrounded by the politics of the small council.

Your aunt softened. “Viserys?”

Tears started to well in your eyes. You nodded, your gaze still lowered.

Rhaenys stepped forward and pulled you into her embrace. She sighed. 

Your shoulders relaxed in your aunt’s embrace. The tears you tried so hard to keep from falling now stained the velvet of her dress.

Were you anyone else you would have remained in your aunt’s arms and released all your anger and sadness regarding your complicated relationship with your father.

But you were the King.

So you pulled yourself together and pulled away from your aunt.

You cleared your throat as you wiped the errant tears from your eyes. 

“All members of court have been ordered to stay in their quarters. The small council and I are planning around the potential of conflict with Daemon.”

Rhaenys nodded slowly. “That is a wise course of action.”

Then you turned towards the other side of the room where Lord Corlys laid. He remained asleep and you noted the haggard nature of his breaths. 

“I will send a maester to see Lord Corlys,” you stated then turned back to your aunt.

She smiled sadly. “Thank you, your Grace.”

You brought your hands behind your back and laced your fingers together. “My hope is that you shall all be allowed to roam the Keep freely shortly.”

Before Rhaenys could reply you turned and walked out of the room in a hurry. 

The air in the room suddenly felt suffocating.

In the hall you took a deep breath. 

The early dawn brought a chill wind to the Keep’s halls. 

It eased the warmth of your face.

You looked towards the south end of the hall. It led down to the crypts where you knew the Silent Sisters were already hard at work preparing your father’s body.

As the King you felt it your duty to see to your father’s body.

But as his bastard daughter you had not forgiven him.

And you were sure Alicent was down there with him, tending to him as you had instructed her to.

You did not wish to see her either.

You could not return to your chambers, you felt uneasy and restless. So you started to wander, and soon ended up in Viserys’ room.

The doors were open, no doubt to remove the smell of death but as you neared the Stranger’s stench strengthened. 

Death always lingered.

In the center of your father’s quarters you looked at his bed. It was left in a distressed state. 

You stepped towards it but thought better of it and stopped.

So you turned your attention to the far side of the room where his scale model of Old Valyria stood proud.

Viserys had worked on it alongside the royal builders for years, practically since you had moved in.

Even as his illness overtook him your father always sat and watched the builders continue to work. 

On his lucid days he joined them for a short time before the worst of his aches forced him to stop.

You approached the model and grabbed the small dragon carved from stone.

Rhaenyra was always his favorite but you could never figure out what exactly you were to him.

For the first several years of your life you had no father, then you were told you were the King’s bastard and consequently exiled to Dragonstone for the majority of your youth.

You long believed your father held little to no love for you, as he did for all his children that weren’t born of Queen Aemma.

But he exalted you to King of the Seven Kingdoms. He wed you to Alicent.

You were sure you had never expressed any hint of your true nature to your father but he somehow knew of your deepest desires.

Desires even you did not fully admit to yourself.

Even in his madness, or perhaps because of it, he knew you better than your dear sister had.

Tears returned to your eyes. 

Would your father have named your heir had any of Rhaenyra’s previous babies survived their birth? 

Would he ever have claimed and legitimized you if Queen Aemma had not insisted?

Viserys did not recall your mother’s name or the night of your conception. 

How much could you have really mattered to him?

Maybe you were simply the best option given his dislike of Aegon and the realm’s then distrust of Daemon. 

Sadness gave way to renewed anger. 

You threw the stone dragon across the room and it shattered against the opposite wall.

“Gods,” you heard a familiar voice gasp.

You turned towards the doors. 

Aegon stood in its threshold. 

You swallowed your tears and straightened your shoulders. 

“What do you need, Aegon?”

Aegon stepped into the room. “Have you seen him yet?”

You shook your head softly. “I don’t think I can.”

“I think I am the same,” Aegon confessed as he neared you.

You met your son’s gaze. 

“Do you hate him?”

Aegon’s brows knit together. “Hate Viserys?”

You nodded. 

Aegon turned the question over in his mind before he answered.

“I used to. I grew up so desperate for his love. Love that he gave so freely to Rhaenyra,” Aegon admitted.

“What changed?”

Aegon’s eyes softened as he looked at you.

“He named you my father. You were always kind to me, and loved me as a father should have.”

You looked away from Aegon, feeling undeserving of his reverence.

But he continued. 

“You believed in me when no one else did, not even my own mother,” he said mirthlessly. 

Then you felt Aegon’s hand on your shoulder and you fortified yourself to meet his gaze.

Tears filled his own violet eyes. “I forgave Viserys because while he never loved me he blessed me with a father who did.”

So moved by Aegon’s words you could no longer contain the tears that threatened to overwhelm you.

This time you allowed yourself to bury your face in your son’s shoulder and truly cry.

Aegon held you as shuddering sobs broke through.

You wanted a family who loved you. Above all else that was what you truly wished for.

And even this your father bestowed upon you.

After the last of your cries ended you pulled apart from Aegon and held his face in your hands.

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

Aegon gave you a small nod.

Then you stepped away and turned to the model of Old Valyria once again. 

“Would you think less of me if I could not forgive him?” You mused aloud.

Before Aegon replied you continued. 

“I can’t seem to absolve Viserys of his callous disregard for my mother. Lord Matthos passed many moons ago and took the secret of her name and birth to the grave. It seems my father has as well.”

Aegon remained silent. 

You touched the intricate work of the model.

However little or much Viserys truly cared for you was now of small consequence. 

A battle for the throne loomed ahead of you. 

You could not continue to wallow in your feelings of inferiority. 

Aegon approached your side and handed you one of the iron poker tools used for the hearth.

“Fuck Viserys,” Aegon quipped.

You smiled. “Fuck him,” you reiterated as you took the hearth poker in your hand.

Aegon turned towards the door. 

You put a hand on his shoulder and he turned back to look at you.

“Let us tear down the old and build a stronger realm together, as father and son,” you declared.

Aegon’s features swelled with pride. He nodded eagerly and grabbed another tool from the hearth.

Together you demolished the model of Old Valyria, crushing as much of it into pieces as you could manage.

Dust clouded your vision as the final slabs of the model fell to the floor and shattered.

As it settled you stood to catch your breath. 

You turned to Aegon.

He smiled brightly at you. 

Your shoulders relaxed for the first time all morning. The restlessness inside you sated by the resolution of your confusing feelings towards your father.

A Targaryen man at arms stood in the threshold of the doors and informed you that the small council had finished writing down the terms of surrender for Prince Daemon.

You nodded and told Aegon to follow.

He dropped the iron poker and did so.

-

You entered the small council room and noted the staleness of its air.

Otto furrowed his brow as he noticed Aegon behind you.

“What is your business here Aegon?”

Aegon turned to you.

You informed Otto that Aegon was the new Master of Laws.

“Prince Aegon?” Tyland questioned.

You turned to him. “Is that a problem?”

Tyland shook his head quickly. “Of course not your Grace.”

“With that settled,” you said and took your seat at the head of the table anew. “What are the terms you have come up with?”

Aegon sank into the seat at your left.

Otto stood and read the terms out loud. “Prince Daemon must acknowledge you as sole heir and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne. In exchange, your Grace will confirm his possession of Dragonstone and upon his passing it will go to Aegon the younger. His son Viserys will be Prince Aegon’s squire, and his youngest son Aemon will be the King’s cupbearer. Finally the king will pardon any knight of lord who conspired to overthrow her.”

You nodded slowly as Otto finished and sat back down. 

“Those are most generous terms. I thank you all for the hard work of writing them.”

Lord Beesbury leaned forward. “Who will deliver them, your Grace?”

Aegon raised his hand. “I will go.”

You turned to him and brought his hand down. 

“You are my heir Aegon. I cannot afford to send you into danger.”

Aegon frowned. 

Then you turned back to Otto. 

“As Lord Hand you will sail to Dragonstone and deliver the terms to my uncle.”

You noticed the displeasure flash across Otto’s face before he schooled his features and nodded courteously. 

“As you wish, your Grace.”

You ordered the servants and members of court released from their quarters and cells. Then you stood from your seat and declared the session at an end.

-

You returned to your quarters exhausted. You wished to sleep and nothing more but as you stared at the pile of correspondence at your desk you knew you had duties to attend to.

So you sighed and made your way to the desk. 

You opened the scroll at the top of the pile. It was the message from Dorne Otto had spoken about earlier. 

You unfurled it and read. Sure enough, Prince Qoren was once again delaying the preparations for the wedding. 

You threw the parchment onto the desk and rubbed the temples of your head to relieve the building ache.

If Aemond did not wed Princess Coryanne, and House Martell was truly providing aid to the Triarchy then you needed Daemon to accept the terms of surrender.

You did not wish to fight a battle on two fronts.

“Ser Criston, your Grace,” Ser Erryk stated after he entered. 

You opened your eyes and nodded for the knight to enter.

Ser Criston walked inside and stopped short of your desk.

“I bring news concerning the undertaking you entrusted to me, your Grace.”

You sat back in your seat and steepled your fingers atop the desk. 

“Go on.”

“Larys was tortured for several hours and brought to the very edge of death. He is now resting so that I may continue his punishment in the coming hours,” Ser Criston explained. 

Not even the news of Larys’ torture brightened your mood. 

“That is heartening to hear Ser Criston. Bathe then see to the Queen,” you ordered.

Ser Criston bowed his head. “As you wish, your Grace.”

Then he left just as quickly as he had walked in.

You were not left alone for very long as just a few minutes later Aemond rushed into your quarters demanding to know what had happened.

After you explained Aemond begged you to let him mount Vhagar and burn down the entire island of Dragonstone. 

His eagerness to kill his kin was not lost on you, but you were too exhausted to address it.

So you told him to see to his sister, who you were told had started her birthing labors just moments prior, and Baela as Aegon was otherwise occupied.

Aemond did not seem very pleased with his orders but he followed them.

The pain in your head returned with a vengeance soon after he left. You closed your eyes hoping to lessen it but it seemed to double the pain.

Across the Keep, completely unbeknownst to you, Alicent was being extorted by your Master of Whispers- Larys Strong.

Larys’ payment for aiding you in your trial against Vaemond was steep. He wished to see the Queen’s feet, bare.

Alicent was horrified and disgusted but if she did not comply she knew Larys would go directly to you and tell you of their disgraceful actions.

She sighed and closed her eyes as Larys finished stating his desired form of payment, in great detail. 

“Is there not anything else you would accept Larys? A lordship? A beautiful wife?” Alicent bargained.

Larys’ eyes raked slowly over the Queen’s body. 

“I have singular interests, your Grace,” he explained. “And I went to great lengths to make sure Ser Vaemond drank the entirety of the poison I slipped into his wine.”

Alicent swallowed hard. She could not escape her fate. 

“Very well,” she replied, her tone clipped.

So the Queen brought her feet up to the small table in front of Larys. He sat back in his seat and slipped a hand under his trousers. 

-

Ser Criston stood dutiful in his watch as he waited for the Queen to finish her audience with Larys Strong. 

He did not care for the supposed Master of Whispers. 

Criston found him off putting and untrustworthy. 

But he proved useful to you and the Queen, so he swallowed his distaste for the man. 

The sun was high in the sky but Criston had the previous night’s watch and had not been relieved at dawn due to your duel with Ser Vaemond. 

 So his eyes began to grow weary, and the thought of his bed became a siren song to the Dornish knight. 

His watch would end when Ser Arryk Cargyll relieved him from his post. 

Thankfully Ser Arryk arrived just as sleep threatened to overtake him. 

Ser Criston provided Ser Arryk with the needed updates then excused himself. 

But as he started towards the White Sword Tower where all the Kingsguard slept he overheard the Queen leave Larys’ quarters in a hurry.

Criston turned and noted the way the Queen attempted to swallow quiet sobs.

Ser Arryk followed the Queen.

Criston furrowed his brow. He thought it odd a simple audience with Larys would elicit such a reaction from the Queen.

So he neared the door to Larys’ chambers. He peered inside but remained hidden in the door’s shadows. 

He watched as Larys wiped his manhood with a rag, his seed spent across the table in front of him and on the floor.

Criston’s face twisted in revulsion. 

He walked back into the hall and started for his bedchamber, lost in thought.

Had Larys done such an indecent action in front of her Grace? Would the man truly be so depraved and devoid of honor as to do such a thing?

Criston clenched his hands into fists.

He could not harm Larys without cause, and he had no proof of Larys’ misdeed.

So he stopped and turned away from the White Sword Tower. He heaved a heavy sigh then made his way to your apartments.

-

Ser Erryk Cargyll, another one of your Kingsguards, entered and informed you Ser Criston wished to speak with you, urgently.

Ser Criston at your door wishing to speak with you alone, a strange prospect.

You sighed. “Let him in.”

You set aside the mountain of correspondence you had yet to answer. 

As Ser Erryk left, Ser Criston entered. He lowered his gaze. 

“I’m sorry to disturb, your Grace, but I have a matter of great importance to discuss.”

You sat at the foot of your bed, facing him.

“Speak plainly then.”

Ser Criston cleared his throat then looked up to meet your gaze.

“I witnessed the Queen flee Larys Strong’s quarters just moments ago after Ser Arryk relieved me of my duties.”

“Did you ask the Queen why she fled?” You asked as your forehead wrinkled in thought.

Criston shook his head. “Regrettably, I did not, but I did step closer to the door of Larys’ chambers and I saw him….” Criston’s voice dropped off. He averted his gaze and shifted uncomfortably.

Your concern doubled at the sight of Criston’s unease. He was not a man so easily disturbed. 

“Did Larys harm the Queen?”

He shook his head once more. “No..” Then he thought about it. “Well, I am not exactly sure your Grace.”

“What are you sure about Ser Criston,” you asked, irritation growing at Criston’s vague tale.

“That when I peered into the room I saw Larys Strong wipe his manhood with a cloth and noted his spent seed upon the table in front of him,” Criston admitted, his gaze still averted.

Criston’s words settled in your mind, and you could not imagine Alicent would sully herself- and certainly not with a man the likes of Larys Strong.

“Are you saying Larys forced himself upon the Queen?”

“I am not sure your Grace. All I know is I saw her Grace flee the room in tears and caught Larys in a most private act.”

Concern was written plain on Criston’s face, so you knew he was not lying. Not that you could ever imagine Criston lying but given the nature of what he saw it was edifying he was moved by concern and not malice.

You rubbed the back of your neck anxiously. 

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention Ser Criston. I will find out the truth of the situation,” you declared.

“Thanks is not necessary, your Grace. I simply do my duty as the Queen’s sworn shield,” Criston replied then excused himself.

After Criston left you called Ser Erryk in to inform Otto that you needed his presence immediately.

He bowed then excused himself.

As you waited for Otto you turned Criston’s words over in your head. 

If Larys had forced himself upon Alicent, why had she not come to you? Did she not trust you? No, Alicent loved you- you knew that. 

But how else would Larys’ seed come to be upon the table so soon after she left his chambers? Though you had never laid with a man you knew enough of what went on with a man’s cock.

The image of Larys’ manhood was not one you wanted to linger upon. So you shook your head free of those thoughts.

Thankfully Otto entered and saved you from further uneasy thoughts. 

“You called for me, your Grace?”

You nodded and gestured for Otto to sit opposite you beside the fire.

He did so.

You realized you were not sure how to go about explaining what Ser Criston had told you. Especially as Otto was Alicent’s father.

So you stared at him, mouth agape for a few moments.

His brow furrowed. “Are you well, your Grace?”

You sighed. Unable to think of a delicate way to phrase the events, you opted to be frank.

“Ser Criston informed me he witnessed Alicent flee Larys Strong’s chambers in tears and when he approached the room to divine the cause he saw Larys clean his manhood and his seed off the table in front of him with a rag.”

Otto’s face soured. 

“Aye, I felt the same upon hearing this most disconcerting news,” you said and took a sip of wine to calm your nerves.

Otto shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Does Ser Criston believe Larys forced himself upon the Queen?”

You shook your head. “He could not say for certain.”

Otto sighed then stroked his beard as he thought.

“Would you be able to use your influence to divine the truth of this matter?” You asked.

“I will endeavor towards that purpose, your Grace. I will come to you with updates as I have them,” he replied then stood and excused himself.

The duty of reading and replying to ravens sent to the crown was tossed aside. You needed to speak with Alicent.

With that purpose in mind you stood and began to walk towards her chambers.

But you would not be able to speak with your wife.

You were informed your father had ordered the entire family to supper. When you insisted you needed to speak with the Queen first the Kingsguard assigned to your father informed you the Queen was making her way to the dining hall.

So you followed the knight to the grand hall where sure enough Alicent sat to the right of the chair at the center of the table, your seat. 

Your father sat to the right of Alicent and the left of your aunt Rhaenys. Rhaena and Baela to the right of her.

Aemon sat to the left of your seat, Helaena to his left, and Aegon on Baela’s right.

Speaking with Alicent would have to wait until after supper. 

Otto was noticeably absent, hopefully busy discovering the truth of what had transpired in Larys’ quarters.

All but your father stood as you entered and made your way to your seat.

“You may sit,” you declared as you neared your seat.

You looked at your father, more frail since you had seen him last. It moved you to great pity. 

Supper was a true feast before you.  You moved to carve the roast pig but Alicent placed a hand atop yours.

 “Prayer before we begin, my love?”

You nodded and stilled as Alicent folded her hands and bowed her head in prayer.

Aemond, Aegon, and Helaena did the same. 

You did not care for the faith. You were not raised devoutly and did not feel a need to pray before a meal but you knew it was important to Alicent so you always obliged. 

So you bowed your head in prayer as you were devoted to your wife like she was devoted to her faith.

Princess Rhaenys, Baela, and Rhaena followed.

“We thank the father for his swift justice in this morning’s trial, we thank the mother for keeping his Grace safe, and may she watch over this gathering with love.”

When she finished, those gathered raised their gaze and you stood to carve the roast pig.

Viserys smiled languidly. “This is truly an occasion for celebration. We are expecting two healthy babes and have one already filling these halls with her joyous laugh, the realm prospers, and my daughter won in combat against a man twice her size- showing the true might of the King.”

Your face warmed under your father’s praise. Once the pig was carved you served yourself, and Alicent before returning to your seat.

The custom was for a wife to prepare her husband’s plate before her own but you were never one to obey them. 

You liked to take care of Alicent as she often forgot to care for herself because she was too busy tending to everyone else.

Alicent thanked you then poured fresh wine in the goblet in front of you.

You noted her eyes were still a bit red from crying. It tore at you that you could not speak with her. 

Though you did not wish to think the worst had come to pass it was hard to rein in your mind from conjuring such thoughts.

As everyone finished plating their food the doors of the great hall burst open.

Daemon sauntered into the room and stopped short of the table. 

You suppressed the desire to roll your eyes at the dramatics of your uncle.

“I believe congratulations are in order for her Grace, the King. A pity my invitation to supper did not reach me,” he said with a smirk.

You stood and smiled cordially. 

“We were not expecting your presence tonight, but you are always welcome here, uncle.”

You ordered the servants to bring another seat for Daemon as you sat back down. One hurried to place a seat between Baela and Rhaena.

Daemon sat down. “I wished to know the outcome of Ser Vaemond’s petition, and was pleased to hear my Rhaena proclaimed Lady of the Tides should the worst befall Lord Corlys.”

Rhaena smiled warmly at her father.

Baela did not meet Daemon’s gaze.

Your father came alive in his brother’s company. 

“How wonderful the whole family is here.”

Daemon met your father’s gaze. “A pity my lady wife and sons could not make the trip with me.”

Viserys moved to stand. Alicent and Rhaenys aided him then sat down once he was stable and upright.

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world yet grown so distant from each other in the years past.”

Then he took a moment to catch his breath. His hands rose and untied the golden half mask that covered right eye and cheek. The clatter of the mask echoed in the hall.

The socket of his eye was bare and the entire right side of his face was covered in rot and decay.

Most of those gathered averted their gazes. Only you, Alicent, and Daemon continued to look at your father.

“My face is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was. But tonight I wish you to see me, as I may not, it seems, walk for much longer among you.”

You swallowed the knot of nerves that formed in your throat at your father’s words. 

Alicent’s hand snaked around your own, and the tension in your shoulders eased with her soothing touch.

Viserys continued. “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts, the crown cannot stand strong if the house of the dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances, if not for the sake of the crown than for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

Then he sank back into his seat with great difficulty. 

As your father’s words lingered in your mind you rose from your seat and raised your goblet.

“I wish to toast to my lady wife, Queen Alicent,” you began and looked towards her.

She met your gaze with a soft smile.

“She has tended to my father with unfailing devotion, and consoled him in his hours of need. For this and more I thank the Gods for bringing our union together,” you finished.

Everyone at the table, with the exception of Daemon and your father, raised their cups and drank.

When you sat back down Alicent threaded her fingers through yours and gave your hand a squeeze.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, my King.”

You brought her hand up to your lips and placed a gentle kiss upon it.

Then you ordered the musicians start to play and soon lively music filled the hall. 

For a time all gathered ate and conversed with great ease, even your uncle Daemon laughed at a few of your jokes.

Aegon asked Baela to dance, and soon Helaena and Rhaena followed. Helaena’s husband was set to arrive on Lord Corlys’ ship.

As the evening continued Helaena encouraged Aemond to ask Rhaena for a dance. He did, begrudgingly at first, but soon found himself smiling as he and Rhaena danced.

The revelry came to an end when your father was overcome with coughing and pain. Alicent called for the guards to take him back to his chambers. 

Silence fell upon the room as your father was carried out, quiet groans escaping him as the movement from the litter jostled him.

Aemond and Rhaena stood aside as the guards passed them on their way out.

Once he was gone your aunt Rhaenys turned to you.

“A pity Aemond is already betrothed to the Dornish princess. He and Rhaena would make a fine match,” she mused as she sipped on her wine.

You looked over at the pair, who had resumed their dancing. You weren’t sure you had ever seen Aemond smile as much as he did dancing with Rhaena.

Before you could respond to her, Daemon scoffed from the other end of the table. 

“As if I would allow both my daughters to be wed to bastards.”

Alicent stiffened next to you. 

“Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond are trueborn,” she reminded him.

“Which you well know, uncle,” you added.

Daemon downed the rest of the wine in his cup and shrugged. 

“They were, but I believe my brother annulled his marriage to you thus rendering them bastards,” he replied venomously. 

Silence fell across the hall anew. 

Both Aegon and Aemond moved towards Daemon. You raised a hand to stop them. They did.

“It must have been difficult for you, uncle, when my father proclaimed Rhaenyra as his heir,” you replied with a insincere smile, “And more difficult still when you were passed over a second time and this time for his bastard child with a woman whose name he did not even remember.”

Daemon’s jaw clenched. 

“If I were my father’s trueborn brother I would feel quite betrayed by such actions," you finished.

Your uncle shot up from his seat and stared daggers at you. 

The tension in the room multiplied a thousand fold. 

“A final tribute,” you said and raised your cup but remained seated. “To my magnanimous uncle, Prince Daemon.”

Aegon lifted his cup alongside you. 

Daemon’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword but before any more movements manifested a messenger rushed into the room with news that Lord Corlys’ ship had just arrived at port.

Rhaenys ordered the boy take her to him, and her granddaughters followed after her.

Daemon flipped his plate over with a flick of his wrist then stormed out of the hall.

You heaved a heavy sigh once he was out of sight. 

Alicent placed a comforting hand on your back.

You excused yourself back to your chambers and walked out before anyone else could respond.

On the way you ran into Otto.

“Your Grace, perfect timing I was looking for you.”

You stopped in front of him. “Do you have an update?”

He nodded. “Though what I have gleaned of the situation is not much more than what Ser Criston provided.”

A small frown played upon your lips but you nodded for Otto to continue.

“I was able to gather that Larys was exacting payment for a service he rendered at the Queen’s behest.”

You furrowed your brow. “What form of payment did he exact? For what service?”

Otto sighed. “I apologize, your Grace, that I was not able to glean.”

“A pity, but thank you for the information you did gather. It seems I shall have to address the matter with Alicent in order to reveal the truth,” you replied, weary from the day’s events. 

Otto excused himself with a bow then left. 

You thought about calling Alicent to your chambers but you knew she would decline and you would never ask the Kingsguards to force her.

So you were left with no choice but to go to Alicent’s quarters. 

Thankfully she had not made it back from supper so you were able to walk in and wait for her.

You did not have to wait for long.

Alicent’s eyes widened in surprise when she walked in and saw you sat by the hearth.

“Your Grace, I was not expecting you.”

You grimaced. 

“You know I do not care to be called that when it is just us,” you chided gently.

Alicent nodded. “Of course, my apologies.”

You tapped on the seat next to you. “Sit.”

She walked over and sat beside you. 

“What brings you to my chambers, my love?”

You steepled your fingers in your lap, avoiding her gaze.

“I’ve sat here for some time, trying to find a delicate way to explain what Ser Criston made me aware of but I haven’t thought of any. So I will just speak it plain.”

Alicent’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”

You took a fortifying breath then looked over at her.

“Did you flee from Larys Strong’s chambers earlier today?”

You noticed the quick widening of Alicent’s eyes and the slight tremble of her lower lip. 

“I…I,” she stammered.

Then she averted her gaze and started to pick at the beds of her nails. The tell tale sign she was anxious.

Your heart ached at the sight. 

“You can tell me the truth of the matter, Alicent. If he forced himself upon you or offended you please tell me.”

Alicent shook her head softly.

“He did not touch me,” she replied with a whisper.

You watched her, waited for her to say more- but she didn’t.

She simply hung her head in shame, and soon you noticed tears falling down the sides of her face.

You softened. Whatever had transpired it clearly upset Alicent to talk about it.

You reached out and placed a hand atop her nervous fingers. 

She stilled. 

“I will not force you to tell me. Just know that I love you and only wish to keep you safe,” you said as you placed a gentle kiss to the side of her head.

You stood and moved towards the door but didn’t get far before Alicent’s hand grasped yours.

You turned your head back to look at her.

She met your gaze, her eyes filled with tears, and her lip now in a full quiver.

“My Alicent,” you breathed as you sat back down and wrapped her up in your embrace.

Alicent buried her face in the crook of your neck and you held her as soft cries crescendoed into shuddering sobs.

You rubbed soothing circles on her back as sobs wracked your wife’s body.

Some time later, when her weeps subsided and she was able to collect herself she pulled apart from you.

You produced a handkerchief from the pocket of your tunic and dabbed at Alicent’s remaining tears.

Alicent looked at you, her eyes soft and vulnerable. 

You handed her the handkerchief when you were done, and she blew her nose into it. 

“I went to his quarters when Ser Criston informed me he had called on me. He wished payment for service rendered,” she sniffled. 

Your hand fell to the small of her back. 

“What did you ask him to do?”

Alicent’s gaze lowered anew. Fresh tears fell from her eyes. 

You furrowed your brow. “What is so horrid you cannot tell me?”

She bit her lip then started on her nail beds once again. 

“You must understand,” Alicent said with a sigh, “I was so fearful of losing you against Ser Vaemond…I could not bear even the thought of it.”

She swallowed hard before she continued.

An eerie unease began to crawl up your throat. You worried what rash action Alicent had undertaken.

“So I approached Larys for help.”

Your shoulders tensed. “What did he do, Alicent?”

She covered her face with her hands. “You will hate me.”

You pulled your hand away from her back and folded them in your lap. Larys was not a man who engaged in lawful methods of action. If he did something it was almost always something best left to the shadows of the night.

“I need to know,” you replied coolly.

Alicent’s hands fell from her face. “He slipped slow acting poison into Ser Vaemond’s cup that night to ensure your win by rendering Vaemond weak.”

You shut your eyes and clenched your jaw. 

A storm of feelings warred inside you. Anger at her flippant disregard for how it would affect your reign if such an act were to be known. Hurt by Alicent’s lack of confidence in your abilities. Betrayed by her keeping it from you. 

Dread weighed the most heavy on you because you had yet to hear what form of payment Larys had demanded.

“What did he ask for in exchange?” You asked, doing your very best to not let your face betray your emotions.

Alicent sighed wearily. “I thought he would request land or a title or even a wife but he…” 

You opened your eyes and looked at her.

She swallowed hard before continuing. “He asked to see my feet, bare, upon the table in front of his seat. Then he slipped his hand under his trousers and…”

The words caught in her throat. She could not continue.

Frankly, you did not need her to.

You clenched your hands into fists and contained the fury that coursed in your veins.

“Larys will be handled,” you promised her.

Alicent met your gaze, her eyes watery and sorrowful.

“Are you upset with me?”

You looked away then stood.

“I think it best we sleep alone until I declare otherwise.”

Then you hurried out of the room before your resolve could leave you and you forgave Alicent without a second thought.

As you walked out you heard her sobs resume.

It took everything in you to continue and not stop until you reached the White Sword Tower.

Ser Harrold informed you which room was Ser Criston’s quarters. You ordered Ser Harrold to rouse him from sleep then leave you alone in his room.

Your Kingsguard did so.

Ser Criston sat up in his cot and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Your Grace, is everything alright?”

You leaned against the wall opposite him. 

“I will be brief. Larys Strong needs to be tortured, slowly, for hours or even days then killed,” you commanded calmly.

Ser Criston stood and nodded curtly. “As you wish, your Grace.”

He moved to gather his armor. Then he stopped and turned towards you. 

“Is it because of what he did to the Queen?”

You crossed your arms against your chest. “Yes, he has debased her and I will not stand for such an offense.”

“I will seize him at once,” Criston replied and bowed his head.

You turned towards the door then looked back at Ser Criston. 

“Thank you for bringing the matter to my attention.”

Ser Criston’s gaze remained downcast. “I only do my duty to the realm, your Grace.”

“Your discretion, and lack of curiosity on what truly went on in that room is also deeply appreciated Ser Criston.”

At this Criston looked up at you. “I do not need to know the details, only that the villain will be held accountable.”

You smiled softly. “I trust that you will see to it that he will.”

“I will, your Grace,” he replied. 

Then you walked out of his room and made the trek to your chambers. 

The moment you stepped foot inside and the door shut behind you, leaving you completely alone, you released the entirety of your wrath. 

You screamed and tossed every vase, cup, and jug of wine to the floor. 

What was the point of being the King if you could not even protect your wife from deviants the likes of Larys Strong? 

You gazed up at a tapestry with Targaryen heraldry. 

Blood of the dragon and yet your wife thought you so feeble she needed to use deceit and trickery to render your opponent weak enough so that even a child would be victorious against him.

So you pulled the tapestry from the wall and flung it over the balcony of your room. 

Your chest heaved from all the exertion, but anger still burned bright inside you. 

You sat at your desk and quickly wrote out a note for Otto. You ordered him to inform Alicent you relieved her of her seat on the small council.

Then you walked out and asked Ser Harrold to deliver it to the Hand. He bowed and informed you he would.

Once he was out of sight you grabbed your cloak and made your way to one of the many secret passageways of the Keep that lead outside. 

You saddled a horse then rode it straight to the Dragonpitt. 

The only dragon keeper awake asked you to wait while he awoke the others to ready Vermithor for you but you waved him off and walked straight to the cave where he liked to rest. 

Vermithor sensed your anger, he blew a short burst of smoke towards you then lowered his snout for you to rest your forehead against it.

The heat that emanated from just underneath his skin simmered the storm inside you. Tears you had held back since entering Alicent’s quarters fell from your eyes, unable to be suppressed any longer.

Vermithor grumbled against you so you raised your head then climbed upon him.

You gripped the reins then ordered Vermithor to walk.

When you reached the exit you clicked your heels and commanded Vermithor to the skies. 

His massive wings kicked up dust and rocks as he flapped them and began to rise.

You relaxed when you felt the cool night air whip across your face. You breathed steadily and deeply.

Then you let out more screams, this time they were even louder. Who would hear you that high up in the sky?

With the last of your anger spent you looked up to the stars and sighed. 

“Rhaenyra, this was supposed to be your burden. Why did you leave me with it?”

A sad smile spread across your lips. 

“I miss you sister.”

Vermithor clicked impatiently below you. 

You patted the skin closest to you. “Alright alright, let’s go fast.”

Sure enough your dragon increased his speed and soon you soared even higher. 

The air thinned the higher Vermithor flew but you didn’t care.

A morbid thought crossed your mind.

It would not be the worst thing if you died that night, on your dragon like Rhaenyra did.

You would be free from the constant questioning of your abilities, the incessant resistance of the men of the realm to let you rule.

Then Alicent’s face appeared in your mind’s eye.

Your death would break her, you were certain of that.

Even though you still felt betrayed and upset with her, you loved her and would never want to leave her.

So you ordered Vermithor descend until you felt your lungs fill with enough air.

You rode Vermithor over King’s Landing and over the neighboring land.

As the hour of the owl neared you returned Vermithor to the Dragonpit and made your way back to the Keep.

Upon your return to your chambers you kicked your boots off and collapsed onto your bed, exhausted.

Pressure.

Something Genesis was intimately familiar with.

The driving force behind almost her entire life.

But there was once a time, a brief moment in summer, where the pressures of being an admiral’s daughter were distant unpleasant memories.

For a few weeks in the summer when she was sixteen Genesis Lythe got to experience a normal teenage romance.

The problem? 

It was never meant to last, and the memory of it haunted every waking moment of Genesis’ life since.

Never in her wildest dreams- mainly because she didn’t let herself dream such impossibilities- would she have imagined she’d see you again, and at the academy of all places.

You hated Starfleet. You hated rules and chains of command. 

Freedom was paramount to you.

So Genesis was rendered mute when she saw you in her ancient philosophies class halfway into her first semester at Starfleet Academy.

Your head was buried in a book.

The corner of Genesis’ mouth quirked upward. You loved ancient Earth, and all its antiquated quirks. Of course you had brought an actual book with you.

Genesis noticed the seat next to you was empty. 

She bit the inside of her cheek.

Things weren’t left on the best note when she last saw you. Would you be happy to see her? Would you hate her?

So she took a seat at the front of the class next to Jay-Den instead. Sitting at the front served the dual purpose of forcing Genesis not to sneak glances at you and actually focus on the class.

Not that it actually worked.

She didn’t sneak glances at you but you were the only thing on her mind. Why were you at the academy? Why did you start so late into the semester? What could’ve happened that made you give up the one thing you valued most in life? 

Jay-Den gently elbowed Genesis. 

Genesis snapped out of her thoughts and turned to him. 

He jerked his head towards the front of the class.

The professor was staring expectantly at Genesis.

She frantically tried to piece together what was being taught.

To no avail.

“Cadet Lythe, I expected better from you,” the professor admonished, then turned around to continue the lecture.

Genesis sighed and sank into her seat, face red with embarrassment.

-

It was impossible not to run into her at some point. You knew that.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for actually seeing her.

She was at the other end of the hall, laughing her full melodic laugh, with a few other students.

Your Genesis.

A knot arose in your throat.

You hurried into the classroom, took a seat in the very back, and buried your face in the 21st century Earth romance novel you’d brought with you. 

Of course she had to be in the very first class you attended.

The universe, as of late, was unrelenting in its mission to humble you.

Thankfully Genesis sat at the front of the class so you were able to look at her without worrying she would see you.

You weren’t ready to face her. To speak to her.

So much was said that fateful summer night, mostly teenage outbursts of hurt and betrayal. Still, the ghost of your cruel words echoed in your mind.

You scoffed. “Ever daddy’s perfect princess. Don’t you get tired of being the poster child for Starfleet’s propaganda machine?”

The knot returned, engorged and impossible to swallow.

She hadn’t changed a whole lot in the years apart. Her hair was still brown with the usual blonde highlights that she always let grow out before redoing. 

You smiled to yourself. 

Genesis was so physically close but still emotionally light years away from you.

Unbeknownst to you, your first day was going to get worse before it got any better.

-

Genesis counted down the minutes and seconds until the end of class. She needed to get up, go to you, and……and what?

What was she going to do, realistically?

The heartbroken teenager inside her wanted to confront you, to yell at you and be rid of her regrets. 

But the hopeless romantic in her wanted to kiss you and never let you go. 

Not a day had gone by since she left you on that dock that she did not think of you.

Even when she kissed others, and there had been others, they paled in comparison to you. To your lips. To your touch. To the way Genesis’ skin felt electric when pressed against yours.

Genesis wanted to sigh. 

She couldn’t believe the hold you still had on her. A few minutes in your presence and she was reduced to that naive girl that was whisked off her feet by the president’s rebellious misanthropic daughter.

“That’s all for today class, dismissed,” the professor called out.

Genesis gathered her things, stood, and turned around to face you.

You were already out the door.

She hurried to follow but was stopped in the hall by Sam. 

Genesis watched as you disappeared amongst the sea of cadets. She let out a frustrated sigh. 

Sam’s brows knit together.

“Is something wrong?”

Genesis let out an amused huff. “Wrong is an understatement.”

She would just have to find you afterwards, somehow.

-

You made it back to your dorm after successfully avoiding Genesis when class concluded. 

You knew you couldn’t avoid her forever, eventually you would have to face her, but you would cross that bridge when you got to it.

Now, you had to find a way to get out of ancient philosophy. 

The less contact you had with her, the better. 

So you pulled out your PADD and began to hack your way into the class registrar. 

-

Sam’s brow furrowed.

“So you shared a transformative summer with the president’s daughter but the relationship soured when she asked you to run away with her and you refused and now she’s a cadet but you didn’t go up to her before class started and she got away from you afterwards?”

Genesis nodded. “That’s a fair summary.”

Darem pursed his lips. “Didn’t peg you for a coward Lythe.”

“I’m not a coward,” Genesis rebuffed. 

Caleb tilted his head to one side as he continued to eat his lunch. 

“I dunno, kinda sounds like you chickened out.”

Genesis stood from the table. 

“Whatever,” she muttered. “I’m going to go study before my next class.”

Then she sauntered off towards her dorm room. 

Her friends’ words lingered in her mind. Had she really been a coward? Should she have sat next to you? Force you to acknowledge her?

Instead of ending up at her room, Genesis' feet took her to the gym. There was too much anxious energy bouncing around inside her. She needed to punch, climb, or kick something- anything. 

Time blurred for Genesis. Memories of that summer flashed in her mind. Every time she managed to swat the thought away another would replace it. 

Genesis threaded her fingers through yours. The warmth of the Illyrian sun washed over the two of you as you sat at the edge of the pier.  Silence hung between you and Genesis. It was the final week of the Federation’s youth exchange program. Neither of you were sure if you’d ever see the other after the program finished. Her father was an admiral, traveling ceaselessly, and your mother was the Federation president. Your worlds were so close and yet so far apart that it was a wonder you ever met in the first place. You looked over at Genesis. The sun created a halo around her messy brown and blonde tresses. You smiled softly.  “I’m going to miss you, so much,” you lamented. Genesis shook her head. “Don’t talk like that. We’re going to see each other again.”  You brought her knuckles up to your lips then placed a gentle kiss on them. 

“Loving you Genesis Lythe has been the greatest privilege I’ve ever experienced.” Genesis frowned. She didn’t want reality to sink in, not yet, not while there was still time.  “Let’s leave the sad goodbyes for Sunday night.” She brought her forehead to rest against yours.  “Today I just want to bask in the sun with you,” she whispered. “Okay,” you agreed then pressed your lips against hers.

Tears welled in Genesis’ eyes as the memory manifested in her mind’s eye. She hit the punching bag harder and harder with each stroke.

Then she switched to martial arts training, sparring with a preprogrammed hologram. 

Before she knew it Genesis had spent four hours at the gym. She skipped three classes.

Genesis sank to the floor. She had never skipped any class before, for any reason. She showed up sick or healthy, rain or shine.

Why did your presence discombobulate her so much?

She sighed. 

Genesis knew why, though she loathed to admit it.

It wasn’t just how you two had left things, it was also that her feelings for you hadn’t lessened even after all this time.

She closed her eyes and let her head rest against the wall.

Genesis chased after you all the way to the pier. It was after curfew on the last night of the program. In the morning you would board the shuttle that took you back to Federation headquarters where you resided with your family and Genesis would board the shuttle back to wherever her father was currently stationed. She hadn’t bothered to keep up correspondence after the first week.  “(y/n),” she called out. You threaded your fingers together and brought them against the back of your head. You peered up at the starry night sky.  “I can’t do it Gen. I can’t go back,” you breathed. Genesis walked up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. “It’ll be okay. We’ll stay in touch and I’ll visit you next summer.” Your hands fell to your sides. You leaned back against Genesis, savoring her warmth. Then you sighed and pulled away from her. You faced her with a sad expression. “You know we won’t.” “I don’t know that, actually,” she replied and crossed her arms against her chest. “I plan to fight for this relationship, do you?” You sighed.

“My mother was clear Genesis.” You approached her and softened your gaze.  “After I complete the remainder of my primary education I’m getting shipped off to the War College.”  You threaded a finger through Genesis’ hair, reveling in the softness of it.  “She won’t accept anything short of total discipline, no distractions.”  Genesis dropped her arms. “Did you try talking to her about it?” You opened your mouth to respond but she cut you off.  “Actually talk to her, not just bring it up then storm off the second she pushes back against you.”

“You don’t understand,” you replied, your hand falling from her hair.  Then you turned away from her and started to pace about the pier. “My brother, my sister, my mother, her mother, her mother’s mother, every known (y/l/n) ancestor became Starfleet lieutenants, captains, commanders, or admirals. You have no idea what it’s like to have your entire life predetermined,” you rambled. Genesis scoffed. “I have no idea what it’s like to have life predetermined? Are you serious?” You stopped pacing, realizing the offense you’d wrought.  “It’s different for you. Your family isn’t-” “Isn’t what?” She dared as she stepped towards you. “Successful? Famous?” “Storied,” you admitted then braced her arms with your hands. “Your dad is a great admiral, no contest, but my ancestors can be directly traced to the very founding of Starfleet. No (y/l/n) in history has chosen a different path,” you stressed. Genesis searched your gaze, her brow furrowed. “That can’t possibly be true. Someone in your family had to have wanted to sing or paint or anything not Starfleet related.” You gave her a slight nod. “Oh yeah there are plenty of artists in my family….but that all came second to being Starfleet officers.” She brought your hands down with her own then laced your fingers with hers. Genesis stared down at your intertwined hands. “War college won’t be that bad,” she argued.  You grumbled in response.  Genesis met your gaze and closed the distance between the two of you. “I’ll be there just a year after you start. We’ll get to be together again far far from your family’s prying eyes,” she continued and wrapped your arms around her waist then let go of them. “They won’t know just how distracting I can be.” You begrudgingly smiled and brought her close against you. You let the worry and stress of your predetermined future fade, for a brief moment, as you focused on the feeling of Genesis’ lips against your own. A languid, tender, hopeful kiss. A kiss not meant to last. “The only reason I didn’t leave this stupid program was because of you. You made it bearable,” you confessed after pulling your lips from hers. Genesis cupped your face with her hands.  “I can make War College bearable too,” she promised. You leaned into her touch.  For a moment Genesis believed she had won you over. Maybe her love was enough. Maybe she was enough. Then you pulled away from her completely and turned away from her. “What about after college? You’ll make a lifetime of strict protocol bearable?” You let out an exasperated huff then whirled back around to face her.  “I can’t live my life with the only light in it being you Genesis. Regardless of how much I love you.” Genesis lowered her gaze, her stomach sinking. “If not War College then what will you do?” You were silent for a beat then stepped forward and hooked a finger under her chin. You titled her gaze up to yours.  “I’m leaving.” Genesis’ brows knit together.  “Yeah, we all are tomorrow morning.” “No, I’m leaving tonight,” you clarified. Genesis’ forehead wrinkled.  “What?”

You reached out and held her hands with your own. “I’m running away. First into the city then I’ll sneak onto a freighter and go as far away from my family as I can.” Genesis gaped. “That’s…reckless.” “Come with me,” you said, then gave her hands a squeeze. “Where?” Genesis questioned. “Does it matter? We’ll see new planets and meet all kinds of people. It’ll be an adventure.” You held her gaze, hopeful.  Genesis’ throat ran dry. “I- I,” she stammered. Then she pulled her hands away and stepped back. “I can’t.” The hope disappeared from your eyes. You frowned and slumped your shoulders. 

The look of heartbreak on your face, of betrayal, Genesis would never be able to forget it. 

But she wouldn’t have ever said yes.

She wanted Starfleet. She wanted a life of service. 

She wanted that life with you at her side.

Finally, Genesis let the tears fall from her eyes. 

-

Xenobiology was not a class you chose, it was mandatory. You didn’t hate science, it just wasn’t a big interest of yours so it was difficult to rouse the necessary dedication to its study.

Thankfully Genesis was not in any more of your classes. 

A bubbly girl with brown eyes and a pearly white smile approached you after you sat down. 

“I’m Sam,” she said with an outstretched hand. 

You shook it awkwardly. “ (y/n).”

Sam’s eyes widened. “You’re-”

She was subsequently cut off by the instructor beginning his lecture. He instructed everyone to pick a partner as the class activity and homework assignment required a lab partner.

Sam turned to you. “Want to be lab partners?”

Her smile was so eager and optimistic it reminded you of a certain admiral’s daughter. 

You half nodded. “Why not?”

Sam let out an excited squeal then stood to inform the instructor. She returned moments later with the alien faunal zygote you’d been tasked to genetically map and mature.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Sam said, then placed the tube with the zygote in front of you.

You smiled, for the first time since you’d stepped foot in the academy. 

“Okay,” you said, then grabbed your PADD. “Let’s do this.”

When class concluded Sam invited you to dinner with her and her friends. 

“They’re really cool, like me,” she beamed. 

You let out a small laugh. “They sound lovely.”

You weren’t exactly up for meeting new people or making friends but Sam was insistent and too sweet for you to turn down.

So you followed her down to the mess hall but stopped short as you were summoned to the Chancellor’s office. 

You excused yourself and made your way to her office.

-

As soon as you were out of sight Sam ran into the mess hall and towards the usual table she and her friends congregated at. 

But there was no sign of Genesis. 

Sam furrowed her brow. “Where’s Genesis?”

Darem shrugged. “She wasn’t in advanced astrocartography.”

“She wasn’t in xenolinguistics either,” Caleb added.

“That’s odd,” Sam remarked. “She would never skip one class let alone two.”

Then panic started to rise inside her. 

“Do you think she’s sick? Or maybe she was kidnapped?”

Caleb stood and placed a calming hand on Sam’s shoulder. 

“Her ex is here, she probably just needed air,” he explained.

Sam nodded slowly. “That makes sense. From my research into organic interpersonal relationships the ending of a romantic relationship can cause much distress.”

Caleb smiled. “There you go.”

“I’m going to go find her and provide emotional support,” she stated then started for the room she shared with Genesis.

But Genesis was not there.

So Sam searched any other place she could think of. Nothing.

Then it clicked, the gym!

Sure enough Genesis was there when Sam arrived. 

Sam found her on the ground, her face in her hands. She hurried over to her. 

“Are you alright?”

Genesis’ head snapped up, then she stood and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yeah yeah just- it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure,” Sam pressed.

Genesis nodded. “Of course. What’s up?”

“(y/n) is in my xenobiology class,” Sam exclaimed, unable to contain her news any longer. 

Genesis’ eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Sam nodded. “She’s also my lab partner and after class I wanted to bring her over to our table for lunch but then she got summoned to the Chancellor’s office.”

“Do you know why?” Genesis asked, brow furrowed.

“No idea,” Sam replied.

Genesis quieted, lost in thought.

Sam regarded Genesis, and uncertainly briefly flashed across her holographic features. 

“Was it okay that I wanted to bring (y/n) to meet our friends?” Sam asked.

Genesis opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Sam.

“I was not sure how to proceed when I found out your ex girlfriend was not only in my class but also agreed to be my lab partner. She’s quite funny and kind, though I’m sure you knew that- or perhaps not since she’s no longer your girlfriend,” Sam rambled. “But my thought process was that her presence at lunch would bring about catharsis, which from my reading on the psychology of organics, leads to closure and healing.”

Genesis’ gaze softened as she watched her best friend babble on. Then she smiled softly. 

“Of course it was okay Sam. I know I will need to talk to (y/n) eventually.”

Sam nodded curtly. “Got it. I will make sure not to fail my mission when I see her tomorrow in class.”

Genesis looped her arm through Sam’s and started for their shared dorm.

-

Chancellor Acke was not at all what you were expecting her to be like.

She was kind of cool, if you were being honest.

Though she was very much not happy to see you in her office. 

“Cadet (y/l/n),” she began with a beleaguered sigh. “Would you care to explain why you hacked into the class registrar and removed yourself from your ancient philosophy course?”

You gritted your teeth. 

How had they caught you? You’d been careful.

And you were certainly not new to hacking.

Chancellor Acke cleared her throat.

You looked up at her, and realized you had been lost in thought. 

“Apologies chancellor.”

She removed her glasses and they landed on her desk with a light clack. “Your mother personally called to discuss your course load before you began. She said ancient philosophy would be a class you would really enjoy.” Chancellor Acke leaned forward. “What happened?”

“My mother was correct in her assumption. I am very interested in the topic but I can’t be in that class,” you replied. 

The chancellor narrowed her gaze at you. “Why?” She pressed.

You swallowed. You couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. It was far too embarrassing.

“I just don’t vibe with the instructor,” you lied.

Chancellor Acke’s brow furrowed. “You don’t ‘vibe’ with the professor?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Mmm,” she mused, “I don’t think that’s the truth.”

You crossed your arms against your chest. “Well it is, sorry to disappoint.”

She leaned back in her seat, spun around, then got up and crossed over to your side. Chancellor Acke leaned against her desk while she faced you. 

Of course she didn’t believe your lie. 

After she continued to press you for the truth you gave in and admitted that someone you did not wish to see was in that class so you switched out of it. 

Chancellor Acke’s eyes lit with intrigue. 

“Ooh, is it an ex boyfriend? Ex girlfriend? Ex partner?”

Your face warmed. You averted your gaze. “Ex girlfriend.”

The chancellor pursed her lips in thought. 

“I empathize with you cadet (y/l/n). I have my own share of exes I would willingly fight hoards of Venari Ral instead of ever seeing again but,” she began and walked back to her seat. “You are here to learn and grow so take this as an opportunity to do just that.”

You looked up at her with a frown. “Please chancellor I will take any punishment but I can’t be in that class.”

Chancellor Acke’s nose wrinkled. “Oh sweetie, that's not your punishment.” Then she sat down and put her glasses back on. “Three weeks of manual labor is.”

Your shoulders sagged. “Great,” you murmured. 

“You’re dismissed cadet (y/l/n),” the chancellor said and returned her attention to her PADD.

You stood and walked towards the door, but stopped halfway. You turned back towards the chancellor. 

“Will you be informing my mother of this?”

Chancellor Acke peered over her glasses and looked at you. “Do you want me to?”

You shook your head. 

She smiled softly. “Let’s not make hacking a habit then.”

You nodded and left her office. 

Back in your dorm room you sank onto your bed. Not even a full day at the academy and you were already in trouble. 

At least your mother wouldn’t find out.

Small victories.

-

Genesis stared at her PADD but was not paying any attention. 

Her mind was back on you. 

So distracted, she did not hear Darem enter the room until he threw one of Sam’s pillows at her head.

Genesis whipped her head towards the door. “What was that for?”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention but you were entranced by whatever is on your PADD,” Darem explained.

Her face flushed. “Sorry.” 

Then Genesis set her PADD aside. 

Sam piped up. “Darem invited us out to the Academy.”

Darem crossed the room and sat down next to Genesis.

“We’ll get a few drinks, blow off some steam, and have a good time.”

Genesis frowned. “I don’t know guys, I have a lot to catch up on.”

“Can we please go Genesis,” Sam pleaded. “Caleb adjusted my settings and I promise I will handle myself a lot better tonight.”

Darem playfully jostled Genesis’ shoulder. 

“Come onnnnn. You can’t tell me a shot or two won’t ease your nerves regarding your ex.”

Genesis bit the inside of her cheek. 

A drink or two would help her relax, and maybe she would find a hot guy or girl at the bar and forget all about you. 

She sighed. 

“Let’s go.”

Sam and Darem high fived then led Genesis out of the room.

-

The air in your room felt suffocating and stale. You looked around at the barren quarters. 

You chose not to bring anything but two of your favorite books with you. 

It’s not like you had a lot to bring anyways. 

You got used to traveling light as you hopped from outpost to freighter to any other ship you could get passage on. 

The things your mom insisted you needed to bring were remains of a bygone life. A life where you wanted her approval over everything. A life where all you wanted was what she wanted for you.

And yet, here you were- fulfilling your family’s destiny of becoming a part of Starfleet.

You tried to tell yourself this was different. It was on your terms. The academy wasn’t like the War College. You could pursue your interests within engineering. They couldn’t force you onto the command track.

But in the back of your mind you felt like a failure, a coward.

Things got rough out in the real world so you went crawling back to your mother, and the security she offered. 

You stood up and walked out of your room. You needed air. Real air. Not the recycled stuff they filtered through every room.

Once outside you finally felt yourself breathe.

The cold San Francisco air whipped around you. It soothed the heat of guilt and embarrassment.

You made your way to the very edge of campus. You sat on a bench that faced the beach, the rocky shore just ahead of you and the looming presence of the Golden Gate Bridge to your left.

The stars shone bright above you, and you felt at peace once again.

The academy was different because it was on Earth. Earth was ancient and powerful and you felt particularly drawn to the little blue planet.

It called to you like an ancient siren.

You closed your eyes and let the cold and salty sea air wash over you.

-

Genesis was glad she’d gone out. 

She did not find someone to make her forget about you- but she did have a shot contest with Darem and won.

She danced with her friends and managed to get rid of all the stress and anxiety that plagued her. 

True to her word, Sam did not get wasted this time. She got appropriately tipsy and was able to return to the academy on her own two feet.

But as they approached the dorms Genesis felt a desire to be alone.

So she told her friends she needed some air then walked off towards the edge of campus that overlooked the bay.

Genesis mindlessly walked towards the water but stopped in her tracks when she spotted you on the bench in front of her. 

She turned around, stopped again, turned back around, looked at you- froze, then turned around again.

Genesis sighed aloud.

What was she doing? Acting like a child.

She turned towards you, squared her shoulders, and walked up to the bench.

Genesis Lythe was not a coward.

She noted how your eyes widened as you spotted her approaching you.

You looked around for an escape but it was too late.

Genesis stopped right in front of you and folded her arms against her chest.

“Looks like you decided to be part of Starfleet’s propaganda machine after all,” she spat.

You swallowed hard then stood up. 

Genesis’ resolve threatened to leave her but she would remain resolute. You owed her.

-

You opened your eyes to find Genesis walking towards you, a determined look on her face.

Fuck.

You looked around but there was no way to leave without making it obvious you wanted to avoid her.

Then suddenly she was in front of you.

“Looks like you decided to  be part of Starfleet’s propaganda machine after all,” she spat.

You swallowed hard then stood up. 

“Nice night out isn’t it?” 

Genesis scoffed. “Seriously?”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” you admitted.

Though you knew exactly what she wanted you to say.

“What are you doing here (y/n)?” Genesis asked plainly.

“Same reason everyone else is,” you replied nonchalantly.

Genesis let out a huff. She shook her head softly.

“What happened to running away on a freighter?”

You shoved your hands in your pockets. “I did make it onto one. Traveled around for a bit before Starfleet officers found me and dragged me back home.”

Genesis searched your face. 

You wanted so badly to reach out and kiss her. She was just as beautiful as you remembered.

“You never called, never sent a message. Why?” Genesis demanded with a piercing gaze.

You averted your gaze, embarrassed. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me. The last things we said to each other weren’t exactly kind.”

Genesis dropped her arms back to her sides. “Even more reason for you to have reached out.”

You met her gaze and softened. 

“I’m sorry Genni.”

Genesis stepped back and turned away from you. 

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Your stomach twisted in knots. 

You knew no apology would suffice. Too much time had gone by for you to make it up to her with a simple sorry.

Silence fell between you.

Genesis brought her hand up and wiped something from her face. 

You figured they were tears. It made you feel even worse.

Then she turned back towards you. 

“So if you weren’t off on an intergalactic adventure why weren’t you here at the start of the semester?”

You took a deep breath. “Unsurprisingly, I ran away earlier this year. Got as far as the Andorian sector…” You trailed off, the uncomfortable memory of why you willingly went home to your mom flashed in your mind.

Genesis noticed. “Officers brought you back to your mom again?”

You looked down and toyed with the hem of your jacket. “Not this time.”

Genesis took a step closer. “Did something happen?”

“It’s uh-,” you cleared your throat then looked back up at her. “Nothing.”

You feigned a smile.

She didn’t buy it but she also didn’t push it.

“So you just finally gave in? Gave up your freedom for a life of duty?”

You shrugged. “War College wasn’t my only option anymore. My mom said they were bringing back the Academy.”

Genesis’ brow furrowed. “What difference would it make? We still follow protocol and chain of command.”

You sat back down on the bench and patted the spot next to you. Genesis sat down but not too close.

“The difference is that,” you said and pointed to the Golden Gate Bridge. “Earth is ancient and real. It’s not some military outpost where all the light is artificial and the food straight from replicators. I’m still free here,” you explained.

Genesis shook her head. “All it took for you to grow up and stop running was food grown in dirt?”

You looked over at her and frowned. “That’s an oversimplification."

“Whatever,” Genesis replied flippantly and looked away from you.

You bit your lip, wondering if you should keep talking.

“I asked about you,” you admitted.

Genesis whipped her head back towards you. 

“What?”

You smiled softly as your gaze raked over her features.  “When my mom told me about the academy, I asked if you were here or if you’d gone to the war college.”

“What’d she say?” Genesis asked and turned her body towards you.

You held her gaze.

“That it didn’t matter. You were a distraction I didn’t need. What mattered was maturing and living up to the family name.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Oh,” she sighed.

You reached out and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. 

-

Genesis swallowed hard as she watched you with baited breath.

“Goes to show how little my mother knows me,” you mused. “You matter more to me than a stupid last name.”

Maybe it was the alcohol in her system. Maybe it was because you were looking at her like she was water in the desert. 

Or maybe it was simply because she still cared about you.

Genesis let out the breath she was holding. “Screw it.”

Then she framed your face with her hands and brought your lips against hers. 

Your arms wrapped around her waist and you pulled her closer. 

It was a messy, hungry, long overdue kiss. 

And it was so effortless. 

Like no time had passed at all. 

Your lips fit perfectly against Genesis’. Your arms felt just as strong and steady.

Later, Genesis would admonish herself for the way she melted in your arms. 

But in the moment she would savor the taste of your lips. 

The lingering smell of your cologne. The softness of your skin. The way you let out a small moan when Genesis deepened the kiss with her tongue. 

It was all a heady cocktail that she wanted to drown in.

-

The kiss was a surprise but not unwelcome. It felt like she had read your mind.

Memories of that summer flashed in your mind. 

Making out under the stars, at the pier, under the canopy of trees, anywhere and everywhere. You couldn’t get enough of Genesis Lythe.

And that was still true.

You pulled her closer and felt the rush of heat that traveled down and settled between your thighs. You ached for her.

But of course it didn’t last. It never did.

Genesis pulled away abruptly. She touched her lips with her fingertips then got up and ran off towards the dorms. 

“Genesis, wait,” you called out.

It was useless. You knew she wouldn’t stop. 

And it would be just as useless to run after her. 

She’d just beat you back to her room and not let you in. 

You sighed and buried your face in your hands. 

How were you supposed to make it through the night let alone the semester when all you could think of was Genesis?

You’d be the very first (y/l/n) to flunk out of the Academy.

-

Genesis’ heartbeat rang like an ancient church bell in her head. The thumping in her chest felt so much like a myocardial infarction that she debated going to the infirmary. 

Had she really just kissed you? Even though she was still so angry with you? Had she really folded that fast in your presence?

She made it to her room and crashed onto her bed.

Thankfully it seemed like Sam was already in sleep mode so Genesis could wallow in her confusing emotions in peace.

Genesis wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why was she acting like one?

Why did she turn into a blushing schoolgirl every time she was near you?

She grabbed the nearest pillow and buried her face in it.

The worst part? 

You were just as good a kisser as Genesis remembered. Maybe even better.

A small, okay maybe not so small, part of her allowed her to think maybe things could be different. Maybe the two of you could get back together. 

You were at the academy now, and you’d grow to love Starfleet. 

Genesis was sure of it…..or at least she wanted to convince herself she was sure of it.

But the truth was Genesis wasn’t even sure you’d last a full week before running away.

And she could not let you break her heart a second time, not when there was too much at stake for her.

She screamed into the pillow then tossed it aside and stood up.

Genesis walked over to her desk and grabbed her PADD. 

She needed to get out of ancient philosophies. 

Her path led to the captain’s chair and she would let you be an obstacle to that.

Your mother was right about one thing, no distractions. 

No matter how cute you were, or how soft your lips felt. 

Genesis shook the image of kissing you out of her head and messaged Caleb. 

You sat across from Otto in front of the hearth in his quarters. You nervously sipped on your goblet filled with wine.

He avoided your gaze and you avoided his. Neither of you prepared on how to handle the reality of Alicent's pregnancy through magick.

But you needed to strategize on how best to deliver the news to the realm, or how to keep the information from leaking.

Otto cleared his throat and sat up in his seat.

"Unprecedented events have become quite commonplace during your reign, your grace," Otto jested.

At least you thought he was trying to joke with you. He smiled nervously.

"Yes, uh...it has been a most humbling ascension." You swallowed another bit of wine.

Otto sighed. "Your grace, the matter at hand has no easy path forward. As you said many will believe the Queen betrayed you and bedded another, a man, and will think you weak if you do not punish her accordingly."

You finally met his gaze. "And if we reveal the child is a product of blood magick those who believe it will fear his birth. Those who seek my removal from the throne will see support for their cause double."

Otto nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"Then what are we to do?" You asked wearily.

Otto softened.

He looked at you not as an obstacle, or a nuisance, or an unfortunately ally but as a daughter.

You weren't even sure he had ever looked at Alicent with such compassion.

"You will weather the storm this development will cause as you have weathered every tribulation since Viserys named you his heir," he declared with a fortifying confidence.

You smiled. "Thank you Otto."

He raised his cup towards you. "Cheers to my unborn grandson."

You mirrored his action then drank more of your wine.

Then you and Otto started to strategize in earnest. It would be near impossible to keep Alicent's pregnancy a secret, and even if you could in the short term once her belly swelled it would not be possible to hide.

So revealing the news yourself would be your only true course of action.

You would proclaim to first the small council, then your court, that you and Alicent wished to conceive of a child of your own.

Alicent, ever a devout woman, prayed to the Gods every day and night.

The mother, in all her wisdom, granted Alicent's wish.

The tale would not fool all but it gave a nicer veneer to the magick involved. Valyrian blood magick evoked the horror of Maegor's rule. An act of divine intervention from the Gods was holy, beautiful, and honorable.

Those that did not believe the tale would no doubt believe Alicent betrayed her marriage vow to you.

For that Otto proposed two paths. The first would be to "slyly" arrest a man, one of no note or consequence, and slay him as punishment for forcing himself upon the Queen while she slept.

You did not wish to put an innocent man to death.

Otto assured you there were plenty of guilty men in the streets of King's Landing if the man's innocence was what bothered you.

The second path Otto proposed would be to use Larys' network to disseminate the idea that Viserys approached Alicent in one of his flights of madness and bedded her believing she was still his wife.

Neither appealed to you.

But Otto was clear, there was no other choice.

So that night you approached Alicent and asked which story she could live with being whispered in the halls of the Keep.

She did not like her choices but appreciated that you let her decide.

It seemed Viserys going mad and mistaking Alicent as his wife would be the least embarrassing. He was once her husband and she would not be too sullied by such an act.

Or so she thought.

The next day you gathered the small council and put in action the plan you devised with Otto and Alicent.

Lords Tyland and Beesbury were shocked and clearly did not buy the divine gift from the Gods story but they did not voice such feelings. Grand Maester Orwyle was told the truth prior to the session being called. He would be Alicent's main physician, he needed to know the truth. But he played along during the small council session.

The Lords congratulated you nonetheless but the rest of the session had an air of awkwardness hanging over it.

The realm's reaction was very much as predicted.

Those devout to the faith of the seven believed the story of your son's divine conception and declared you to be a King truly chosen by the Gods. The high septon was not as convinced but did not dissuade those who believed.

Those who did not care for the faith believed your wife had been unfaithful. At first there was much gossip about who the babe's true father was but as Larys' network disseminated the story about Viserys they came to believe that. And of course they mocked you ceaselessly for being a cuckold.

You heard word that the mummers of the city held unflattering plays of you. Poor Alicent was cast in an even worse light in the plays.

The worst reactions were those who did not believe the tale about the Gods or Viserys.

A small but sizeable amount of those at court were able to divine that Alicent's child was a product of blood magick. Several whispered in court about Maegor's second coming. They condemned not only the child but your right to sit the throne.

You frequently consulted with Otto and Larys to monitor the reactions and closely follow those whose disapproval rose to higher concern.

Thankfully the calamity of your unborn son's conception was soon overshadowed by the end of the war in the Stepstones just a few months after it was known.

The crown emerged victorious and in celebration you gifted bread, coin, fruit and a reduction in taxes for the smallfolk.

Lords Beesbury and Tyland were not happy with your generosity but you needed your subjects to move past Alicent's pregnancy.

Unfortunately, news reached King's Landing that your cousin Ser Laenor was killed in the final battle and Lord Corlys was gravely injured.

Upon the news of the Sea Snake’s wound you received a raven from his brother, Ser Vaemond Velaryon. He petitioned the crown to name him as his older brother’s heir. 

So by week’s end all members of house Velaryon descended upon the Keep. Lord Corlys’ ship was rerouted to King’s Landing.

The morning you were set to hear Vaemond’s petition you met your aunt, and Rhaena in the Godswood. 

They had already met with Baela so she joined you all under the weirwood tree at the center of the Godswood.

Princess Rhaenys was overjoyed at the news that Baela was with child. Baela and Rhaena went on ahead, giggling and thinking of potential names for the babe.

Then Rhaenys turned to you. 

“I believe congratulations are also in order for you, your Grace.”

You let out a laugh. “Thank you Princess. It's been quite a shock."

Rhaenys smiled. “An unexpected gift,” she reasoned.

You grew tired of pretending everything was alright. Your shoulders sagged.

"In truth, I would not say the babe's conception a gift. What little support I gained through the prosperity brought on by my reforms has been squandered. Those who do not mock me for cuckoldry, loathe me because they fear the second coming of Maegor the cruel,” you rambled, exasperated by the repeated calamities you were forced to reckon with.

Your aunt heaved a great sigh. 

“That is a terrible quandary indeed, your Grace.” 

You smiled ruefully. “And I no stranger to quandaries."

Rhaenys’ smile returned. 

“On a brighter note at least you do not have to suffer the pain of the birthing bed.”

Your smile faded. “That is for the best. All I know of my own mother was that she died giving birth to me. I fear a similar outcome would befall me should I have been the one to carry that burden,” you mused.

Rhaenys placed a comforting hand on your arm. 

You shook the melancholy from your thoughts and moved onto the matter that brought your aunt to King’s Landing. 

“What do you plan to do about his petition?” She asked you.

“I will listen to his argument with an open mind, but I know I will not name him your lord husband’s heir. Not while Rhaena still lives.”

Rhaenys’ brows knit together in surprise. “You plan to declare Rhaena the heir to Driftmark?”

You nodded. “Of course, as Laenor has regrettably passed and Baela is set to be the realm’s next Queen consort, the honor of Lord of the Tides falls to Rhaena. As she is not yet of age I will declare you regent until she is.”

“It is a smart strategy to affirm the right of a woman to inherit over a more distant male family member,” she reasoned.

“It is also what is right in this case,” you countered. 

Rhaenys huffed. “Lucky for Rhaena, though Vaemond will not agree.”

The hour to hear Vaemond’s petition neared so you turned to face your aunt and spoke plainly. 

“I will honor Rhaena’s claim regardless of your answer to this question, know that, but I would like to know if I can count on yours and the Sea Snake’s support should things lead to war after my father passes.”

Rhaenys regarded you for a moment before she replied. 

“Should my cousin come to pass and the realm gets plunged into war, you can count on House Velaryon’s full support.”

You let out a relieved sigh and smiled. “I am glad to hear it.”

Rhaenys mirrored your smile. “You doled out mercy and kindness that night in Driftmark when Baela injured Prince Aemond, and now she tells me that she is tremendously happy here. Prince Aegon has proved to be a fine husband to her. For this I am in your debt, your Grace.”

You gave your aunt a hug then departed as you needed to discuss some matters with your small council before hearing Vaemond’s petition. 

-

The hour of Ser Vaemond’s petition arrived. You sat upon the throne, crown atop your head, and Blackfrye at your side.

Otto started the proceedings and called Ser Vaemond forth to present his petition.

“My King,” Ser Vaemond began and bowed to you. “The history of our noble houses extends beyond the seven kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the doom fell on Valyria our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebears came to this land knowing that if they were to fail it would mean an end to their bloodlines and their names. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’ closest male kin, and his own blood.I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor. Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

You listened to Ser Vaemond’s appeal with an even disposition. While you already had a decision on the matter you had to at least present as impartial.

When he finished he bowed and returned to his place amongst the others.

You cleared your throat and sat forward in the throne. 

“Ser Vaemond, I have listened to your petition with an open mind. You make a sensible claim to Lord Corlys’ seat that I would be inclined to agree with,” you began.

A satisfied smile crept across Ser Vaemond’s features.

“But you are not the next in line to inherit the Driftmark throne. I believe that honor goes to Lady Rhaena, Lord Corlys’ trueborn granddaughter, or am I mistaken Princess Rhaenys?”

Ser Vaemond’s smile fell. 

Hushed whispers spread across the gathered members of court. 

Ser Vaemond turned to look at Rhaenys and his nieces next to her with a scowl.

Rhaena looked to her grandmother, her expression terrified. 

Your aunt stood proud then stepped towards the center of the room.

“My lord husband’s chosen heir, Ser Laenor, was killed before he had the opportunity to remarry and sire children. So it would fall to my trueborn daughter’s children, my granddaughters Baela and Rhaena. Baela is the eldest but as she is wed to your son and heir Prince Aegon the honor of ruling Driftmark should the worst come to pass with my husband’s health is Rhaena’s. ”

You nodded and your aunt returned to her place next to Rhaena.

“Thank you Princess.”

You looked at Ser Vaemond. 

“I declare the title of Lord of Driftmark and subsequently Lord of the Tides shall go to Lady Rhaena Targaryen in the event Lord Corlys succumbs to his wounds and passes before he himself can name an heir.”

With the matter concluded you moved to stand. Otto called the session to an end and as the firsts of the crowd started to disperse Ser Vaemond marched forward, towards you.

Ser Harrold Westerling intervened and cautioned Ser Vaemond to keep his distance.

“Your father broke law and centuries of tradition to not only install you as heir but to force your unnatural union upon the realm. You are not fit to tell me who deserves to inherit my brother’s seat,” he spat venomously, fury seething from every part of him.

You leveled a stern look at Ser Vaemond. 

“Do not forget yourself Ser,” you cautioned.

He did not stop. He pushed against Ser Harrold as he continued his diatribe.

“House Targaryen might be content being run by a bastard who has sired an abomination, but you will not decide the future of House Velaryon. We survived the doom and a thousand tribulations besides. Gods be damned, I will not see it fall to a girl who does not even carry the last name Velaryon.”

A loud silence fell upon the room. Ser Vaemond stopped pushing against Ser Harrold and took a few steps back.

You stared at him, weighing the consequence of simply killing him where he stood. Then you looked at Alicent, your own anxiety and anger mirrored in her appearance. 

If you allowed Ser Vaemond’s words to go unpunished the lords of the realm would never take you seriously, they barely did as it was. 

But if you acted rashly your temper would be used as a reason against the ability of women to rule.

So you played the only hand you could think of that avoided those undesirable outcomes.

“Very well, since you believe you are suited to rule and won’t accept the decision of a bastard as you so kindly referred to your King, we will hold a trial by combat to decide not only the fate of Driftmark’s heir but that of who will sit the Iron Throne,” you declared, your voice calm and confident.

Gasps tore through the crowd. 

Alicent stepped forward. “Your Grace, you cannot be serious?”

You turned to her. 

“Ser Vaemond believes he is better suited to rule Driftmark. Why should such a magnanimous ruler be kept from the rest of the realm? Perhaps the second son of House Velaryon would make a better King of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“(y/n),” Alicent whispered in disbelief. 

You turned your attention back to Ser Vaemond, who stood with his mouth agape.

“Will you accept my challenge Ser Vaemond?” You pressed.

Ser Vaemond schooled his features and nodded firmly. 

“If you so insist, your Grace.”

You smiled. “Perfect, we shall meet at the dragonpit upon the morrow.”

Ser Vaemond turned on his heels to exit the hall but you called out to him.

“Good Ser,” you called out. 

He turned to face you.

“I should clarify this will be to the death. Neither of us will be allowed to yield.”

The color drained from Ser Vaemond’s face then he turned back around and walked out of the Throne room.

You sat back down on the Throne after the nobles of court had cleared the room then let out a heavy sigh. All who remained were your family, with the addition of your aunt and Rhaena.

Alicent rushed to you. “Have you gone mad or are you punishing me for an unknown offense I’ve committed?,” she demanded. “What in the seven hells possessed you to challenge Ser Vaemond not only to combat but to the death?”

The present members of your family exchanged uneasy glances as Alicent continued to berate you.

Rhaena leaned towards Baela and whispered. “Does the Queen always speak to the King this way?”

Aegon overheard and let out a small laugh. 

Baela smiled. “The King gives great latitude to his wife.”

Otto attempted to intervene. 

“Alicent perhaps-,” he began but was cut off. 

Alicent whirled towards her father. 

“Stay out of this, or am I to assume you were the one to put such a ridiculous notion in the King’s head?”

“No I-,” Otto stammered.

You had never seen Otto Hightower rendered mute.

So you stood and placed your hands on Alicent’s arms. 

She returned her gaze to you, fear mixed with righteous anger was written plainly across her face.

“Ser Otto did not counsel me on this matter. A trial by combat was the only way to punish Ser Vaemond for his traitorous insults and not be deemed a hysterical woman that proves women should not rule,” you explained.

Alicent’s anger disappeared as tears welled in her eyes, her fear overtaking her. 

“I cannot lose you (y/n),” she replied, a quiver in her voice.

You moved your hands to cup her face.

“I do not plan to die tomorrow, and much less to the likes of Vaemond Velaryon.”

Alicent closed her eyes, the tears falling down her face.

You wiped them away with your thumb then placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Alicent wrapped her arms around your waist and buried her face in the crook of your neck.

You smiled and rubbed reassuring circles on her back.

Otto cleared his throat.

You looked at him, Alicent still in your arms, and gave him a nod to continue.

“Your Grace, I share the Queen’s worry for your life but you are right that a trial by combat was the wise course in the face of Ser Vaemond’s insults,” he reasoned.

Aemond stepped forward. 

“Let me fight him in your stead, father.”

Alicent pulled away from you and looked at Aemond. 

“Absolutely not.”

You smiled at your wife then returned your attention to Aemond. 

“Your mother is right. I must battle Ser Vaemond myself, and hopefully put to rest the unending questioning of my rule with my victory.”

Aemond frowned but nodded in agreement.

Princess Rhaenys was the next to approach. She thanked you for your staunch support for Rhaena’s claim, and wished you a swift victory against Vaemond.

Then she, Baela, and Rhaena left the room. 

Ser Otto informed you the small council would need to assemble and decide on a few matters before your duel took place.

So you, Aegon, and Aemond followed him out and towards the room where the small council gathered.

You expected Alicent to join you but she stopped just outside the room and told you she would see you for supper. You nodded in agreement then watched as she walked towards Larys Strong who lingered in the hall like a shadow.

What business could Alicent have with Larys? 

You did not have much time to linger on the question as you were led to put your succession down in ink should the worst come pass during the duel. 

The men of the small council watched as you named Aegon your heir, and who would succeed him should he also pass away.

“Naturally it would be Helaena,” you declared.

Aegon sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Do you truly believe Helaena would want to sit the throne, father?”

You paused to consider Aegon’s words. Then you nodded. 

“You’re right, she would abhor having to rule.”

So you named Aemond as Aegon’s successor should Aegon pass before Baela delivered her child. After the birth of Baela’s child Aemond would continue to rule as regent until the child came of age. 

As Aemond was yet unwed and without children of his own, your future son with Alicent was named as fourth in line for the Iron Throne. 

Ser Otto, who was the one assigned to record your named successors, asked what the child’s name would be.

A question you had not given much thought to.

Alicent had brought up the possibility of naming him after your father but you did not want to confuse the realm further, as there already lived two Aegons and two Viserys.

The only other name you had discussed in brief passing was naming your son after your grandsire, Baelon Targaryen.

You shared the name with those gathered. 

Aemond let out a snicker. “Prince Daemon will seethe with anger upon hearing the name of our soon to be brother.”

Aegon laughed alongside his brother.

You smiled but maintained your even disposition. 

“The name was not proposed to move anyone to anger or jealousy. My grandsire was said to be a brave knight and formidable dragon rider. I pray my Baelon turns out the same.”

Ser Otto wrote Baelon's name below Aemond’s on the scroll. 

Once your business was concluded you called the session to an end and retired to your room for supper.

Alicent was already there, sitting at the table with worry wrinkles marring her otherwise perfect face. Her hands were clasped in prayer.

“Do you really have so little faith in my abilities you mourn me already?” You asked her as you settled into the seat opposite her.

She met your gaze and lowered her hands into her lap. 

“I fully believe you to be skilled with a blade but Ser Vaemond is a knight made,” she argued as supper was brought in by servants.

“I was not allowed to be a knight’s squire and therefore could never be knighted but I am one in all but name. I do not fear the likes of Ser Vaemond Velaryon.” You replied and waved her concerns away.

Alicent would not be moved. She remained despondent for the rest of supper, and brought up her concerns once again while in bed.

She turned to you and laced her fingers through yours. 

“I can not live if you are not by my side. Please allow a member of the Kingsguard to fight as your champion,” she begged.

You sighed. “The matter is settled, Alicent. I will fight Ser Vaemond at dawn.”

Tears welled in Alicent’s eyes anew. 

You softened at the sight of them and pressed a kiss upon Alicent’s lips.

“I have no desire to leave my beautiful wife whom I adore and go to an early grave,” you whispered as you pulled away from the kiss. 

Then you let your forehead rest against hers.

“Trust that I will win. I need your faith above all others,” you confessed.

Alicent nodded softly. “If you do not win I will pray the Gods send you back so that I may slay you with my own hands,” she joked.

You smiled and brought her in for another kiss.

A night of fitful sleep followed.

-

The following morning, at dawn, you awaited Ser Vaemond in the Dragonpit.

Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, and Ser Otto sat in the makeshift stands. Helaena and Baela remained in the Keep. You ordered Alicent to stay behind as well, lest the intensity of combat bring about an early end to her term, but she flagrantly disobeyed you. 

Some on the small council felt you gave the Queen unearned latitude to question you, but you did not listen. Alicent’s stubborn assertiveness was a trait you quite liked in her, even when she used said trait against you. 

The boys cheered you on as you warmed up with simple swordplay exercises against Ser Criston.

Your armor was commissioned at the start of your reign, though many believed you would never need it. How thankful you were that you did not heed such advice.

Most armor was fitted for men’s bodies and their shortcomings. In contrast, your armor was perfectly fitted to your measurements and forged directly by the greatest blacksmiths of Qohor. The armor was as strong as true Valyrian steel but still light enough to not hinder movement.

Blackfyre, a hand and a half longsword, was heavy in your hands and that slowed you down a bit but you had trained with it long enough to overcome the difficulties of handling it as a woman.

Ser Vaemond entered the Dragonpitt and stepped into the makeshift arena. His armor and shield was emblazoned with House Valeryon’s sigil.

You forwent a shield as all felt heavy and cumbersome to you, especially when you attempted to use one alongside wielding Blackfyre.

Ser Criston brought you your custom helm, it was made of the same steel as your armor so it was light but sturdy and covered only your head and the sides of your face. A scarf of chainmail was attached to the bottom of it to cover your neck. He placed it on your head and adjusted the chainmail accordingly. After that he wished you luck. 

You thanked him for not holding back when sparring, and for his devoted service to the Queen. You felt at ease knowing she had a true ally besides you in the Keep.

Ser Criston bowed then stepped back as you turned to face Ser Vaemond. 

You met at the center of the arena.

Otto announced the rules of the trial, reiterated that it was to the death, then ordered the duel to start.

You raised Blackfyre defensively and mirrored Vaemond as he circled. 

“It’s a shame your wife has to be present for your defeat,” he taunted then struck.

A flurry of steel clashing against each other followed.  

You held your own as Vaemond advanced relentlessly.

Vaemond was taller and stronger than you, that much was obvious, so your plan was to tire him and use your smaller frame to your advantage by quickly evading his powerful blows.

The trial continued for several minutes, neither of you giving way to the other. 

Alicent picked at her nail beds, a nervous habit she had long overcome, but returned at the sight of you in potential danger.

Aegon and Aemond continued to cheer you on, and hurled insults at Vaemond.

The smallfolk that gathered to view such a spectacle cheered both for and against you.

You had no doubt many bets had been placed on the fight. You hoped those who placed their faith and coin on you to win were handsomely rewarded.

But as the fight dragged on, your stamina lessened which gave Vaemond the opening he needed to get the upper hand. 

You held on as best you could as Vaemond’s strikes pushed you back against the wall.

Alicent held her breath as she watched. 

She wondered if Larys had been successful in his mission.

Alicent looked for Larys in the sea of faces. When her gaze landed on him, she found he was already staring at her. Alicent suppressed the shiver that threatened to run down her spine. Larys made her deeply uncomfortable but she had need of him so she swallowed her disgust of him.

Larys gave Alicent a slight nod, signaling a completion of his mission.

Alicent’s shoulders relaxed after Larys’ confirmation.

All you had to do was hold on long enough.

Sure enough after you evaded one of Vaemond’s strikes and got free of the wall you noticed his movements start to slow.

You continued to bravely defend against his attack but when his strikes began to weaken you jumped on the moment.

You hastened your strikes, each one more powerful than the last. All your anger and frustration, all the insults you endured the entirety of your life, they all poured into each swing of your sword.

Then when you noticed Vaemond had left the back of his knee unguarded as he turned away from your strike you doubled your efforts and drove Blackfyre against his weak point.

Vaemond fell to his knees.

You continued your assault, giving him no moment to recover.

When he fell completely you pressed your foot against his chest plate. 

“Any final words Ser Vaemond,” you asked breathlessly.

Blood spilled from the wounds on his body. He looked up at you and choked up more blood. 

“I-,” he began but was cut off by your sword cutting his head clean off his body.

The Dragonpit roared with cheers and chants. “Long live the King, long live the King,” the smallfolk screamed.

You removed your helm and looked at your family. A bit of blood spilled from your lips but you simply spit it out then held Blackfrye high above your head.

Your sons raced down the stand and towards you. They congratulated you then went on to entice the crowd to louder cheers. 

Alicent approached and wiped the blood from the corner of your mouth with her handkerchief.

“Never challenge anyone else to the death,” she warned after letting out a deep breath.

You smiled. “I promise I won’t, my fear of your wrath is too great,” you teased.

Alicent smiled then ordered a guard to remove Vaemond’s body.

You walked the perimeter of the arena and whipped up the crowd into further frenzy.

When the pain of  your wounds made themselves known you followed Ser Criston to the wheelhouse where he removed the most cumbersome of your armor. 

You climbed inside the wheelhouse and laid back in your seat.

Your family soon joined you and continued to congratulate you on your win.

You recalled the memory of your coronation as Aegon and Aemond  began a dramatic reenactment of your battle with Vaemond.

Alicent sat beside you and wrapped her arms around your waist. 

Exhaustion started to settle as the excitement of combat wore off. So you were grateful for Alicent’s embrace to steady you.

Once back at the Keep, Grand Maester Orwyle gave you a thorough examination after the rest of your armor had been removed.

Mostly minor scrapes and cuts. His assistants sewed the deeper ones and Orwyle informed you the rest of your injuries (a few bruised ribs) would heal with time.

You thanked him then ordered the servants to run you a bath. 

After the maesters left, Alicent entered and held your head in her lap as you awaited your bath. Her belly had grown considerably since the discovery she was with child. 

You lovingly caressed it with your hand. 

“Your father won today, as she knew she would, little Baelon,” you whispered.

Alicent smiled. “You’ve named our not yet born son?”

You told her that was the name you gave Otto when listing off your line of succession. Alicent agreed Baelon was a prudent choice.

“Baby Baelon,” you cooed and pressed your ear to Alicent’s belly. 

You swore you could hear your son’s heart beating. It was strong and steady.

Just as your bath was ready Ser Criston announced that Larys Strong requested an audience with the Queen.

Your brow furrowed. 

“Whatever for?”

“Larys did not provide an explanation, your Grace,” Ser Criston replied. 

Alicent told you it was probably just a new rumor he heard going around court. She left to speak with him.

Ser Criston followed after her.

The next two years of your reign were ones of relative peace.

Daemon did indeed remarry, and had twin sons- Viserys and Aegon- with Lord Borros’ daughter Cassandra, but he kept to Dragonstone and with the realm prospering rumor of rebellion died down.

You were not invited to the wedding, nor was anyone of house Velaryon with the exceptions being Baela and Rhaena. You granted Baela leave to attend and she rejoiced in getting to see her father once more.

Upon her return Baela confided in you that the father she once knew was gone. After the wedding ceremony he hardly spoke to her and her sister. He did not even say goodbye to Baela or Rhaena the following morning.

You held her as she sobbed, feeling the sting of betrayal for the first time in her young life.

To cheer her up you invited your aunt Rhaenys and Rhaena to the Keep. They accepted the invitation and arrived not too long after on dragon back. 

Rhaena finally claimed a dragon the year prior. 

They arrived to find Baela practicing with her long sword alongside Aegon and Aemond. Baela ran to her grandmother when she noticed her.

Aegon and Aemond politely greeted Princess Rhaenys and Rhaena then resumed their training. 

Your aunt inquired about Baela’s time in the Keep and Baela excitedly recounted how she started training and was now learning how to use a bow. Rhaenys asked her granddaughter if she was happy. Baela told her grandmother she was, and informed her of your boundless generosity. 

Then the twins went off to catch up with one another in Baela’s chambers while you met with your aunt in the Keep’s gardens. 

Just before you set off to see Rhaenys, Helaena approached you and Alicent to ask to be sent to Oldtown. She explained she wanted to learn more about the Hightower and the fortress below it. 

Alicent was unsure so she turned to you. You pressed Helaena for more answers, did she really want to travel just to learn more about an old tower?

Helaena confessed she wanted to explore the fortress library for answers she sought. She did not explain what matters of great importance she sought answers for, even when pressed further. 

Alicent reasoned Helaena might meet a fine knight or minor lord of the Reach with her family in Oldtown and sent word to her uncle that same day. Helaena was now a woman of sixteen and not yet betrothed. You struggled to find her a suitable match. Every suitor presented displeased Helaena and while Alicent and Otto pressured you to force the match anyways you continued to delay marriage. 

After exchanging pleasantries and polite questions regarding your cousin Laenor’s adventures at sea you brought the matter of betrothal to Rhaenys. 

“I believe Baela will be a fine match for Aegon, and they have made great strides in their relationship in the past two years.”

Rhaenys seemed hesitant but she did say she noted Aegon seemed to have matured considerably from the boy she last saw. She told you she would confer with Baela then let you know her decision. 

Tradition dictated you ask Daemon for Baela’s hand but he had distanced himself from his daughters and as Rhaenys was their most attentive guardian you thought it best to approach her on the subject.

That evening at supper Rhaenys informed you that Baela had agreed to the betrothal as she agreed it would be an advantageous match. She knew the freedoms she had come to enjoy at the Keep would not be granted to her elsewhere.

Their betrothal was formally announced the following day at court and ravens sent out to inform the other houses.

Viserys’ health waxed and waned through the years. He continued to live to everyone’s surprise. You were thankful the Gods saw fit to keep your father alive. You were not yet ready to deal with the chaos his death would bring.

The following year your uncle sired another son, Aemon, and a daughter, Alyssa. Baela was not moved to fly to Dragstone to meet her siblings, she had long accepted her father was no longer interested in her. Rhaena flew to them and visited her father quite often, not wanting to lose the only parent left to her.

Your connection with Alicent deepened with time, and by the third year of your reign you were both comfortable with open displays of affection. While the sight bothered those of the court and your small council at first they came to feel indifferent. 

The sight of two women or men together was no longer uncommon. While not yet fully embraced by the realm a few lords and ladies from great and minor houses revealed their own unorthodox unions. Even those of the faith turned a blind eye to these unions. If the King was a woman married to another woman what did it matter if a second son or daughter married one another.

It was still unheard of heirs being allowed into marriages like yours as they still had to continue the family legacy.

Helaena returned from Oldtown for the tourney celebrating Aegon and Baela’s union. With her arrival came the news that she had found a suitable match for herself. 

Ser Leo Tyrell, one of Lord Tyrell’s great grandsons.

Ser Leo joined the lists of the tourney and proved himself a skilled knight. He was also patient and seemed to take interest in Helaena’s flights of unusual fancy. Helaena did not simply tolerate his presence but actively sought him out. 

Their betrothal was announced before the tourney’s end.

The day of Aegon and Baela’s wedding arrived and while your uncle had been invited he did not show. 

Baela instead wore a cloak with house Velaryon’s sigil and was led down the aisle by her grandfather, Lord Corlys. 

Alicent’s eyes watered as she watched Aegon cloak Baela and vow to love and protect her as he would the realm. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and held her close. 

The feast that followed was one of high spirits and merriment. 

Prince Qoren Martell congratulated Aegon and presented his daughter, Princess Coryanne who was now Aemond’s betrothed. 

Aemond’s face reddened when Princess Coryanne greeted him. 

To your surprise, and relief, Aegon did not tease him about it.

The atmosphere of the hall darkened considerably towards midnight when Daemon entered, visibly drunk.

You had not seen him since that night in Driftmark. 

The hall fell into silence, the only sound Daemon’s boots against the stone floor.

Your shoulders tensed as you stood from your seat. 

“Uncle, how wonderful for you to join us.”

Demon did not look at you, instead focusing on his newly wedded daughter. 

“I offer condolences my dear Baela, that I did not arrive sooner to stop this dreadful union,” he spat. 

Baela looked down, chagrined. 

“It seems as though you have had one too many cups this night, uncle,” you said and motioned for the kingsguard to remove him from the hall. 

They moved towards him but he waved them away. “Do not come closer. I shall leave of my own accord,” he slurred then stumbled back the way he had come.

Baela’s face burned with embarrassment, and Rhaena’s eyes started to water.

You followed Daemon out of the hall, your kingsguard at your side.

Once outside, from the prying eyes and ears of the court, Daemon braced himself against a stone pillar. He doubled over and heaved a great amount of what you assumed to be wine and remnants of his supper.

Your face soured at the sight and smell. 

Then he turned to you, wiping his mouth of vomit. 

“How dare you wed that boy to my daughter without my approval?”

“You have not been Baela’s father for many years now. I sought consent from her present guardian, her grandmother,” you countered.

He scoffed. “I will not forget this,” he said, then pointed an accusing finger at you. “If I were you I would pray that my brother remains in good health.”

“Is that a threat uncle?”

Daemon’s hand tapped on the hilt of his sword. “It’s a promise, dearest niece.”

Then he marched off from whence he came.

Dread once again seeped deep inside you. The years of relative peace had given you hope that the worst was behind you.

But your uncle’s surprise appearance and thinly veiled threat to your rule eviscerated what little hope had blossomed.

Daemon’s brief visit to the Keep proved to be an unfortunate omen of what was to come. 

War broke out in the Stepstones for the second time. This time when Lord Corlys approached the crown for support he was granted enough coin and men to win.

Or so you had hoped.

The war dragged on for three long years. 

The crown’s loss of coin and men were so great your small council urged you to withdraw your support. But you could not leave Lord Corlys on his own. 

To add to your sudden misfortune Prince Qoren delayed the nuptials of his daughter to Aemond. Each time you wrote to him regarding the preparations he replied that more time was needed to prepare Princess Coryanne for marriage. 

Otto stated what was plain, the Martells did not wish to honor their betrothal to house Targaryen. Which made sense in light of word that Dorne was providing support to the Triarchy, effectively ending the treaties you had negotiated.

Helaena married Ser Leo Tyrell amidst the turmoil. The wedding was small, per Helaena's request, and a quiet affair but it was joyous nonetheless. After the wedding was consummated Ser Leo went off to aid in the war. So Helaena continued to live at the Keep. It was soon known she was with child and after a full term she bore a healthy babe. Helaena named her daughter Rhaenyra.

It brought you a mix of joy and renewed grief. You held Helaena's babe in your arms and marveled at the way she did resemble your late sister.

And as it would soon be known Rhaenyra would not be the only addition to the royal family.

For several weeks Alicent refused to share your bed, and evaded you throughout the day. She no longer attended small council sessions. You worried about her but every time you sought her out Ser Criston informed you the Queen felt unwell and was resting.

Larys Strong, ever the fly on every wall of the Keep, approached you after a small council session to inform you he had sensitive information regarding the Queen.

So you retired to your chambers and shared a cup of wine with your Master of Whispers. 

“I’m afraid there is no easy way to say this, your Grace,” Larys breathed with an exaggerated sigh.

Though Larys proved an advantageous ally you still distrusted him greatly and did not wish to be in his presence more than necessary.

“You may speak freely,” you replied and sipped on your wine.

Larys cleared his throat. “Very well,” he began and set his goblet of wine on the table before him. “The Queen was recently paid a visit by a maester from Oldtown.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why would she have such a need when we have plenty maesters here?”

“That is what I wondered as well, your Grace, so I investigated further. It seems the Queen did not want to bring undue attention to the service she required.”

You were growing tired of Larys. “Which was? Out with it, plainly, Larys.”

“Very well, your Grace,” Larys acquiesced with a slight bow of his head. “The Queen is with child, and she sought out a maester who could brew her moontea discreetly."

“Alicent is with child?” You asked, not able to believe she would be unfaithful. 

Larys nodded. “It seems so, your Grace.”

A storm of mixed feelings brewed inside your chest. You thanked Larys for bringing it to your attention then dismissed him. 

Once he was gone you let his words sink in. 

Alicent had bedded another, a man. She had betrayed you.

You could not believe it, or rather you did not want to believe it. 

The affection and adoration between you had only grown since the night you finally consummated your marriage. She was nothing short of a doting wife. Alicent even embroidered handkerchiefs for you with hearts and doves upon your name.

How could she have deceived you so? And with whom had she lain? 

Your disbelief begat despair which transformed into anger and indignation. You ordered Ser Harrold bring the Queen to your chambers at once.

As you waited you paced about your room. You downed cup after cup of wine, shutting your eyes tight to prevent the stinging tears that formed in your eye from falling. 

Ser Harrold returned not long after you had sent him to fetch your wife. He returned empty handed. 

He cast his gaze downward. “Her Grace is unwell and could not be roused from bed,” he informed you.

You scoffed and marched out of your chambers straight towards Alicent’s, now frighteningly irate.

Ser Criston moved to stop you from entering. “Your Grace, the Queen is not-”

“Your King commands you to step aside and if you value your life you will comply,” you roared and did not wait for a reply. 

You pushed past Ser Criston and stormed into the room. 

Alicent sat in front of the hearth and whipped her head towards you upon your entry. 

“(y/n),” she gasped.

You walked up to her, tears streaming down the sides of your face as you could no longer hold them back.

“Are you with child?”

Alicent’s eyes widened and she stood from her seat. “Of course not, why would you ever think such a thing?”

Your heart broke anew upon hearing Alicent lie to you. Larys’ information always proved correct, you knew he was not wrong about this either.

“You make me the cuckold and now you lie to my face?” 

Alicent’s face fell, her eyes cast down towards the floor. 

Her silence was the final confirmation.

You stumbled backwards and fell onto a chaise. “How could you do this to me?”

The fire of your anger extinguished by the cold truth. You sat in the seat expressionless, casting your gaze towards the fire.

Alicent knelt at your feet and placed her hands upon your lap. “I have not been unfaithful (y/n), you must believe me,” she pleaded.

But how could you? There was only one way to conceive a child, and you did not have the necessary anatomy to put one into your wife’s belly.

“I am a fool for believing that you ever returned my affections,” you uttered, your voice devoid of any warmth. 

Alicent pressed her forehead against your knees. “I do love you, (y/n), you know that I do,” she argued.

You looked down at your wife’s scarlet hair splayed across your lap. 

Disgust overtook you. 

You stood, causing Alicent to fall onto the floor, and crossed the room towards the window that overlooked the rest of the Keep. You opened the window and let the cold night air wash over you.

Alicent’s hushed cries turned into full on sobs. 

You clenched your jaw and balled your fists. Everything in you wanted to go to her side and comfort her, even after she confirmed the truth of her betrayal. You loved her so deeply you could not bear to see her suffer.

“Did you drink the moontea?” You asked unsteadily. 

“I wanted to, but the maester told me I was too far into my term for it to work,” Alicent explained. 

You whirled around to face her. “Exactly how long ago was your betrayal? Have you truly been playing me for a fool the whole time?”

Alicent stood and closed the distance between you. She took your face in her hands.

You did not have the strength to move away. 

“I swear to you on all that I hold dear that I have not been unfaithful to you. I love you more than I ever thought myself capable of,” she professed, her eyes reddened by the tears that continued to fall. Her lip quivered as she spoke.

It made your heart ache. Both because you so desperately wanted to believe her and because it was impossible for her words to be true.

You called out for Ser Harrold. He entered, with Ser Criston at his heels. 

“Call on Ser Otto, rouse him from slumber and drag him by the collar if necessary,” you commanded. 

Ser Harrold nodded then left in search of your hand. 

Then you tore yourself from Alicent’s grasp and approached the hearth. You braced yourself upon the mantle.

Silence enveloped the room while you awaited Otto’s arrival.

He walked in, annoyed at being pulled from a bath, his robe tight around his body. 

“What is so urgent your Kingsguard threatened to drag me here?” He sharply questioned.

“Your daughter is with child Otto,” you levied with obvious distaste. “And worse yet she is too far along to terminate with moontea.”

Otto turned to Alicent, disbelief contorted his face. 

“How could you have been such a fool?” He barked at her.

Alicent’s sobs quieted. “I am innocent in this father.”

Otto ran a frustrated hand through his thinning hair. 

“Then how came you to be with child? Did a man force himself upon you? Name him and we shall have his head fitted on a spike.”

Alicent hung her head. “No man has forced himself upon me, nor has a man touched me since I was wed to Viserys.”

“Enough with the lies Alicent,” you shouted as you turned to her.

She flinched as if struck. 

Your resolve weakened at the sight.

Ser Criston entered. “Princess Helaena is here your Grace,” he announced.

“Send her away,” Otto ordered.

But it was too late. 

Helaena strode into the center of the room. 

“I believe I hold the answers you all seek.”

She turned to you. 

“Mother is correct, she has not been unfaithful. Her state is my doing.”

You furrowed your brow. “What are you talking about Helaena?”

Helaena bade you sit on the couch with her. You did so hesitantly.

Then Helaena revealed that years ago she had dreamt of a boy with streaks of red in his hair of silver. The boy had brown eyes with a slight tinge of violet. She explained that in her dream the boy became King and ushered in an age of peace and prosperity that rivaled that of the late King Jaehaerys. 

“So who is the boy’s father?” Otto interrupted. 

Helaena leveled an annoyed glance at her grandsire then continued. 

She knew the boy in her dream was not hers. He was a product of the King and Queen. 

You remained puzzled, unable to follow Helaena’s tale. 

Helaena told you that in the Red Keep’s library she learned of ancient blood magick that Visenya was rumored to have used to conceive her son. She learned that the blood magick was not sufficient for the creation without a man’s seed so she read further. Continued reading hinted at the strange mystery that surrounded the Blackstone Fortress and the whispered magick of the Hightower.

“That is why you wished to visit Oldtown?” Alicent asked, horrified.

Helaena nodded. “Yes, and while there I learned more about the Deep Ones. My search yielded the precise spell needed to combine with the ancient Valyrian blood magick. So upon my return to the Keep I set out to make the boy’s conception a reality.”

You looked to Otto who stood as bewildered as you felt. 

“What did the spell consist of?” You asked, slowly coming to understand. 

“I collected rags with both of your moon bloods for a full year, scales from a dragon egg, and locks of hair from my brothers and I. Then I burnt them all and recited the water magick spell in High Valyrian,” Helaena stated plainly. 

You stood from your seat and began to pace about the room in utter disbelief and panic at the thought of magick being used.

Otto pursed his lips then nodded slowly. “I suppose such a thing is possible. As Helaena said, it was rumored Queen Visenya used magick to conceive her child.”

You stopped and turned to him. 

“It is exactly that history that unsettles me. She gave birth to Maegor the cruel.”

“And you believe our son will be his second coming,” Alicent finished for you. 

You did not meet her gaze. Embarrassed for having thought her unfaithful.

“Precisely.”

Helaena turned to you. “He won’t be, I have seen it, your Grace. He will be a magnanimous and beloved King of the realm.”

You sighed aloud then walked to to Helaena. "You should get some rest."

Helaena excused herself.

Otto stroked his beard, deep in thought.

“I am deeply regretful that I lobbied such heinous accusations at you,” you said and finally turned to look at Alicent.

She met your gaze, her eyes swollen from crying but without rancor. 

“No one could have thought such a conception possible. I don’t hold it against you my love.”

You softened and crossed the room to be at her side. She stood by the window where you had left her. You knelt in front of her with a bowed head.

“I plead for your forgiveness Alicent, though I do not deserve it.”

Alicent titled your chin up so your gaze met hers. 

“You do not need it because I do not begrudge you.”

You stood and embraced her. You buried your face in her hair. 

“I am so sorry. I love you,” you whispered.

Alicent wrapped her arms around your waist and rested her chin on your shoulder. 

“I love you too.”

Otto cleared his throat and you pulled away from Alicent to face him.

“Now that the question of the child’s parentage has been answered we must discuss how to handle the pregnancy.”

You nodded. “Half of the realm will think their King a cuckold, and the other half who will believe the babe a product of magick will fear his birth.”

Otto hummed in agreement.

“We lose either way,” Alicent mused.

Otto stood from his seat and promised to find a solution that would end favorably for them. Then he excused himself.

Once alone you turned back to your wife. 

“Do you truly not despise me after I treated you so poorly?”

Alicent cupped your face with her hand. You closed your eyes and leaned into the contact.

“Of course not.” 

Then she caressed your cheek with her thumb. 

“Do you despise me?”

You opened your eyes and furrowed your brow.

“Why would I have cause to despise you?”

Alicent’s hand fell from your face and she walked to the chaise near the hearth.

“The realm will lose faith in you and I will be the cause of it.”

You followed and sat next to her. 

“I won’t deny the path ahead will be difficult but it has always been. All that matters is we walk it together,” you said and held her hands in yours. 

You brought her hands up to your lips and pressed gentle kisses on each of her knuckles. 

Alicent smiled sadly.

“I’m terrified (y/n). I do not wish to birth an even worse King than Maegor,” she admitted.

You met her gaze. “You heard Helaena, our son won’t be cruel.”

Alicent’s shoulders sagged. “Your faith in Helaena’s visions is heartwarming but I don’t share it.”

“We will raise him to be good, kind, and benevolent. Our current set of sons aren’t too awful are they?” You asked with a playful smirk.

Alicent let out a small laugh.

“They are imperfect but both boys have matured into decent men,” Alicent recounted.

Your heart brightened that you were able to ease Alicent’s fears. You let go of her hands and wrapped yours around her waist, settling your chin on her shoulder as you looked up at her.

“Just think how beautiful our son will be with your eyes and auburn streaks.”

Alicent looked over at you, her gaze tender.

“I hope he looks exactly like you,” she whispered. 

Your smile wavered as you gave your son more consideration. 

“What really troubles me is that Helaena saw our son as King, and the only way for that to be true would mean our older boys die, or I replace Aegon as heir. I do not wish to think of either possibility.”

Alicent reassured you that while Helaena was a gifted girl she could not predict the future. Besides, Aegon would be busy with his own child to worry about your son. 

You furrowed your brow.

“Baela is also with child,” Alicent clarified.

You sat up. 

“Gods be good, a newborn and two more babes on the way. Let’s pray the realm will survive,” you teased.

Alicent laughed. “Baela is not as far along as I am but yes, we will have three more children running amok in the Keep’s halls.”

Then Alicent placed a hand on her stomach. She looked down and smiled with affection. 

It was a week since you’d kissed Trinity Santos. Seven days, a hundred sixty eight hours, ten thousand and eighty minutes, six hundred and four thousand eight hundred seconds, to be exact.

And Trinity was all you could think of. All you wanted to think of. 

You went to bed feeling the ghost of her lips against yours, and you woke up with the nagging need of her between your thighs.

Work was unbearable. 

One because Trinity refused to be anywhere near you, alone. She would leave the second another doctor or nurse left the two of you alone. 

Second, because your work was suffering. So much so that Dr. Al-Hashimi pulled you aside to talk about it- on more than one occasion. 

You were behind on your charting, missing obvious diagnoses in patients, and even disappearing for several minutes at a time to hide in the bathroom stalls to calm yourself down.

You cursed ever letting Trinity kiss you.

She ruined you.

And now she didn’t even have the decency to reject you to your face.

That day, after shift ended you approached her in the parking lot. You asked to talk to her but she brushed you off and said she was tired.

You watched as she got into her car and sped off without so much as sparing you a second glance.

The next day at work she started avoiding you and you instantly worried she regretted kissing you.

But as the week went on you realized it wasn’t regret that plagued Trinity. 

You caught her staring at you several times over the course of the week. Her gaze was soft and contemplative. 

And when Dr. Al-Hashimi sternly corrected you while attending a trauma case alongside Trinity she defended you. She took the fall for a rookie mistake you had made. 

Which made her avoidance of you all the more confusing. 

If she didn’t regret it, why didn’t she want to be anywhere near you?

The confusion and mystery bothered you more than the possibility she just wasn’t into you. 

You wanted- no, you needed the truth. If you had any hope of getting your career back on track you needed to confront Trinity and resolve whatever was going on.

That was easier said than done as she was very good about steering clear of you.

-

The morning progressed as it usually did, including Trinity ducking out of cases you were assigned to.

After your latest fuck up Dr. Al-Hashimi assigned you to easier cases. It was embarrassing but you couldn’t argue against it. You also didn’t want patients to suffer because of you so you took the unspoken punishment on the chin.

Your latest patient was an elderly man by the name of Mr. Montrose. He was a sweet, if a little overbearing, man who had taken a nasty fall and hurt his lower back.

And somehow, you’d lost him. You searched the halls of the Pitt for your patient. A man his age couldn’t have gotten far.

Then you spotted him sweet talking another elderly patient. The woman was laughing and blushing.

Maybe you needed to ask Mr. Montrose for some pointers.

You approached and informed Mr. Montrose he couldn’t just wander off and talk to other patients. 

He insisted he had to walk around and talk to others. He was a greeter at Walmart, it was his job to converse.

So you compromised and asked him to stay within the general vicinity of his ER bed. 

He let out a small sigh as you finished guiding him back to his bed. 

“My dear, I cannot sit. My backside is killing me from where I fell on it,” he explained, “which is an embarrassing admission to make to such a lovely woman.”

You smiled politely. 

Mr. Montrose had paid you flattering compliments the whole time you examined him upon his admission. 

You didn’t want to be rude, and he meant no harm but he was very much not your type.

“Thank you for the compliment Mr. Montrose but there’s no need to be embarrassed. You took a serious fall,” you reassured him.

His gaze softened. “Well, then may I say that one look in your beautiful eyes and I think I’m falling all over again,” he said and leaned back for comedic effect.

You let out a small laugh. “Ever the charmer,” you teased. “I’ll get you a foam donut to help you sit,” you explained as you went to the mobile work station in the center of the room.

Mr. Montrose smiled and started to hum to himself. 

You turned your attention to the workstation. 

Trinity was typing away on the workstation opposite yours. You were surprised she hadn’t darted away the second you approached.

But you knew charting was Trinity’s weakness, and she’d take any minute to catch up on it.

You tapped your badge and unlocked the computer. You went in to check on the status of your patient’s x-ray order and to document you were getting him a foam donut.

“Pretty great laugh you got there, Doc,” a deep voice called out to your right. 

You looked over to see it was the rugby injury patient you’d tended to earlier. You were waiting on his x-rays too. 

What was it with all the male patients flirting with you today?

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Trinity’s typing slow, and her gaze drift over to the rugby patient.

The patient was handsome, but again- totally not your type. 

You smiled politely. “That’s kind of you to say. My grandmother joked it was more of a witch’s cackle.”

Before the patient could reply one of the nurses came up to you with CT results for another patient.

Trinity resumed her charting as you walked past her to check in with your other patients.

-

Ten minutes later you had a minute to return to Mr. Montrose but when you arrived at his bed he was once again not there.

So you went to hunt him down, again.

You found him closer to this time. At least he was honoring your request to stay nearby.

You put a hand on his back and started back towards his bed.

“My backside is killing me. I need to keep moving or I get all achy and stiff,” he explained.

You smiled. “Exactly why I brought you this foam donut to sit on while we wait on your x-rays,” you said and held up the piece of foam with your free hand.

He pursed his lips. “Hmm.”

When you reached his bed he looked down at the patient passport in his hand.

“Dr. Pretty eyes, it says here that it’s only supposed to take an hour or two for an x-ray,” he said and turned to you.

You let out a deep breath. “That is the goal, but the reality is that it could easily take double that.”

“There’s no need for reality,” he said, then dropped the patient passport onto a nearby chair. “We romantic prefer la reve, the dream.”

He was once again trying to charm you.

Your patience and understanding was starting to wear thin, but you continued to humor him. 

“We do, do we?”

He smiled. “Oui.”

Then he reached out for your hand and started to sing. You didn’t recognize the language but assumed it was something french.

Mr. Montrose led you to the center of the hall and gave you two gentle spins as he sang.

Your smile strained a bit but you played along.

“Hey, save a dance for me,” the rugby player from the other side of the room called out.

Your face warmed at all the sudden attention. 

To make matters worse Dr. Al-Hashimi appeared behind you as you finished your second twirl.

She cleared her throat and Mr. Montrose’s hand fell from yours. 

“Dr. Al-Hashimi,” you exclaimed and swallowed hard.

“I see why your patient satisfaction scores are so high Dr. (y/l/n),” she joked but you could tell it was for the patient’s benefit. The smile didn’t reach her eyes. 

Mr. Montrose paid you another compliment then returned to his bed, foam donut in hand.

Dr. Al-Hashimi explained there was an incoming trauma and offered to have you join her.

You saw it for what it was, your final chance to prove you weren’t a fuck up.

You nodded but then stopped. “Oh uh- I have a few patients waiting on x-rays and Kevin, one of the techs, just told me they’d be uploaded soon.”

Dr. Al-Hashimi surveyed the hall. “Ah, Dr. Santos,” she said and waved down Trinity who was walking past.

Trinity stopped short of you and Dr. Al-Hashimi, brows raised. 

“Why don’t you cover Dr. (y/l/n)’s patients for a while. I need her for an incoming trauma,” she ordered.

Trinity opened her mouth to no doubt reject the idea but Dr. Al-Hashimi didn’t let her get a word in.

“It sounds like Dr. (y/l/n) was about to wrap up with them so it’ll give you some time to catch up on charting.”

Charting. Trinity’s weakness.

So she nodded wordlessly. 

“Perfect,” Dr. Al-Hashimi said then whirled around and started for the other side of the hall. 

You glanced over at Trinity and met her gaze, for the first time since that day in the parking lot. 

You softened your gaze. “Thanks,” you said with a small smile.

Trinity shrugged. “Whatever,” she replied, then turned away from you. 

You sighed and followed after Dr. Al-Hashimi.

-

Trinity POV

Of course Trinity had to take on your patients while Dr. Al-Hashimi whisked you off on a trauma case.

Trinity sighed as she approached the workstation. She used every spare second to catch up on charting.

But even when she typed away on a patient’s chart her mind wandered.

It always led her back to you.

Trinity knew she was being cowardly. She knew you probably thought the worst of her. She’d been ignoring you and avoiding you as best she could for almost a full week.

She wasn’t proud of it.

The truth was Trinity was scared. What she felt when her lips touched yours…it was beyond the angry sexy tension she thought she was relieving by kissing you. 

It was deep and overwhelming, it was real.

And that scared Trinity shitless.

She didn’t do real. She didn’t do deep.

So until she got over whatever was going on with her she would avoid you like the plague.

As best she could considering the two of you worked alongside one another.

Trinity was acutely aware that a patient was staring at her.

It was the guy who flirted with you just a few minutes earlier. 

Trinity heard it all.

Though she pretended not to notice she did, and it deeply bothered her.

You didn’t like guys, that much was obvious to anyone with eyes.

But it seemed male patients often lacked the eyesight to notice.

Trinity never cared before, but things were different now.

So the patient’s gaze on her irritated her, and when she could no longer swallow that irritation she locked the computer and turned to him.

“Do you need something?” She snapped. 

His forehead wrinkled in surprise. “Oh uh…kinda?” He replied sheepishly.

Trinity wanted to roll her eyes but she knew better. She had to be professional.

Instead she licked her lips and approached the patient. 

“What can I do for you Mr…” Trinity trailed off.

He smiled up at her. “Just Brian is fine,” he said.

Trinity gave him a slight nod. “What can I do for you Brian?”

Brian sat up a bit, as best he could given the pain in his ankle. “I actually wanted to ask you a few questions. If that’s alright?”

Trinity’s brow furrowed. “About what?”

Brian averted his gaze. “About who, more like.”

Trinity’s stomach sank. She saw where this was headed.

“Dr. (y/l/n), is she seeing anyone?” He asked and met Trinity’s gaze anew.

A knot rose in Trinity’s throat. She wasn’t sure how to respond. 

She wanted to tell Brian to fuck off and leave you alone but she couldn’t exactly do that could she.

But she also didn’t want to humor the guy.

Brian continued. “What’s her type?” Then he leaned forward. “Does she like Black guys?” He whispered.

“Ohhhkkayy,” Trinity sang awkwardly and buried her hands in the pockets of her scrub pants. Her face warmed so she thought it best to get out of there as fast as she could.

“Dr. (y/l/n) isn’t attracted to men, like at all,” Trinity stressed. “And she’s spoken for I’m afraid.”

Brian’s forehead wrinkled in surprise, again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize she was your girlfriend,” he said remorsefully. 

Now it was Trinity whose forehead wrinkled. “Come again?”

“I meant no harm, doc,” he said and raised his hands apologetically. “I’ll back off.”

Trinity’s brian short circuited at the idea that the patient thought you were her girlfriend. So she just smiled awkwardly and walked away.

-

Epinephrine coursing through your veins, you returned to your work practically bouncing on your heels.

You not only saved the patient’s life but a last ditch effort you advocated for was what saved her.

Perhaps you weren’t hopeless, perhaps you could recover from whatever lovestruck malaise consumed you.

You unlocked the workstation closest to you to check on the status of the x-rays your patients were waiting for to be discharged. 

Both were ready so you walked to Mr. Montrose first. After he was discharged you went to the rugby player who flirted with you, Brian Hancock. 

You rubbed hand sanitizer on your hands as you approached him. “How are we doing over here?”

“Good, how much longer will it be?” He asked, curt and avoiding your gaze.

Your brows knit together. 

A very sudden shift from his flirty charisma of earlier.

You shrugged it off, you weren’t exactly fond of his flirting anyways. So you went to the computer nearby and pulled up his chart.

“Your x-rays are back. No fracture so just ACE wrap, ice, rest, and elevate,” you told him and showed him the x-ray on the computer screen.

Brian looked up at the screen. He nodded slowly. “So I’m good to go?”

“Yeah, I’ll get your discharge paperwork started.” Then you looked down at his ankle. “Maybe some crutches just in case?”

You met his gaze. 

He relaxed and smiled. “Listen I uh-,” he cleared his throat then looked back up at you. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone, and didn’t mean to flirt with you in front of your girlfriend,” he admitted sheepishly. 

You furrowed your brow. “Girlfriend?”

“Dr. Santos, I think was her name?” He said with a wrinkled forehead. 

Trinity? 

Your face warmed at the very thought. 

Brian continued. “She made it pretty clear you weren’t available, or even interested in men.”

“She was jealous?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m surprised she didn’t bite my head off.”

You softened. “Dr. Santos can be a bit prickly when it comes to me,” you apologized. 

Brian smiled. “That just means she really cares about you.”

Then you finished discharging him and walked over to the central desk.

His words lingered in your mind.

It means she really cares about you.

Could it be true? 

Princess sat up and leaned towards you. “Is that cute rugby player gone?”

You nodded. “Yeah I just discharged him.”

“I overheard him flirting with you. Did you get his number?” Princess teased. 

“Uhh,” you murmured. 

Perlah swatted Princess’ arm as she walked by. “ (y/n) doesn’t swing that way, did you forget?”

Princess blushed. “I did, sorry,” she said with an apologetic face.

And that was when you noticed Trinity out of the corner of your eye. 

Once again, charting and pretending she was not eavesdropping on your conversation. 

So you decided to push her. 

If she was going to ignore you then get all defensive of you behind your back you were going to force her to acknowledge you.

“Actually,” you began, the tone of your voice getting higher at the end of the word. 

Princess and Perlah’s brows rose. They leaned in closer.

“Princess is right. He was very cute, and I’ve never actually tested my sexuality.”

The nosy nurses looked at one another, said something in Tagalog, then turned back to you. 

“So you got his number?” Perlah asked.

You put your forearms on the desk. “Even better, he invited me out to the art galleries in Lawrenceville tonight.”

Trinity’s typing stopped. She fully turned her head towards you. Her jaw clenched tight.

Thankfully neither nurse noticed. 

Princess gave you a knowing smirk. “Are you going to go?”

A teasing smile spread across your lips. 

“I don’t know. Maybe I will?”

You shrugged. 

Perlah and Princess encouraged you to go for it. No harm in a date. 

You agreed then excused yourself to go see another patient. 

You had barely rounded the corner towards triage when Trinity grabbed your hand and led you down the hall towards the on call room.

She shoved you inside then closed the door behind her. 

You suppressed a satisfied smile. 

“Are you seriously going on a date with a patient?” Trinity asked, her jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

“Why do you care?” You asked nonchalantly. 

Trinity crossed her arms against her chest. 

“I don’t. It’s just incredibly unprofessional and unethical,” she chided.

You scoffed. “Oh and you’re the poster child for professionalism now?”

Trinity shifted uncomfortably and avoided your gaze. 

“It doesn’t matter if I am or not. You’re literally not even into men,” Trinity argued. 

You took a step towards her. 

“Again I have to ask, why do you even care?”

Trinity swallowed hard, her eyes fluttered to your lips then back up to meet your gaze.

“You know why,” she breathed, her jaw clenched tight.

You shrugged. “I don’t,” you feigned. 

Trinity rolled her eyes. “Come on (y/n).”

“You’ve been ignoring me all week Trinity. If you regretted kissing me you could’ve done the adult thing and just be up front about it,” you replied, a little more bitter than you originally intended.

Trinity’s arms fell to her sides and she let out a sigh. “That’s not- look I..,” she stammered.

Then she walked to the other side of the room, closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

You softened at the sight. 

She really was upset. 

But it didn’t seem to be with you.

So you gave in, just a little bit. 

“Brian didn’t ask me out,” you confessed. 

Trinity’s hand dropped from her face. She whirled around to face you, and met your gaze, one eyebrow raised. 

“But you said-?”

“I just wanted to see if you’d care,” you interjected before she could finish. 

Now it was you who averted your gaze. 

You suddenly felt very emotionally bare.

Trinity huffed. “You bitch,” she mused with a slight shake of her head.

You looked up at her to counter her insult but she framed your face with her hands and pressed her lips against yours.

It was embarrassing the way you melted into Trinity’s kiss. 

But you would save that embarrassment for later.

You would revel in her touch and taste in the moment.

Trinity’s hands traveled down and settled on your hips. She guided you backwards until you were up against the door. 

Things suddenly felt very familiar. 

You snaked your arms around her shoulders and buried your fingers in her hair.

In one fluid movement Trinity locked the door. 

Then she pulled away, just enough, and turned your face to one side. She kissed down your neck and started to suck on your pressure point. 

You bit down on your lip and threw your head back in ecstasy. 

Heat bloomed between your legs. 

You knew you’d need more soon. 

And you weren’t sure Trinity would give it to you. 

So you pulled your fingers out of her hair and pushed her back a bit. 

Trinity’s brow furrowed. “What was that for?”

“I want you,” you said breathlessly. “Do you want me?”

Trinity gave you a wordless nod. 

“Okay,” you said and pulled her back towards you by the waistband of her scrub pants.

Trinity’s lips were back on yours.

Your hands cupped her face and you brought her closer to you.

Trinity parted your legs with her thigh.

You eagerly spread them enough to give her access.

Her hand slipped under the waistband of your pants. Her touch was cold, and it sent an excited shiver down your spine.

You smiled into the kiss. 

Trinity’s cockiness used to irritate you to no end, especially because she had the talent to back it up.

So it was no surprise to you that she made quick work of making you come.

You were also already soaked through by the time she stopped teasing you and slipped inside you.

She held you upright as you rode out your orgasm, your hips bucking against her fingers.

You buried your face in the crook of her neck.

When the last spasm of your climax finished you pulled your head away from Trinity.

Trinity pulled her fingers out of you and brought up to her lips.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched her greedily take both digits inside her mouth and sucked them clean.

Afterwards she cupped your cheek with her hand and gently caressed your face with her thumb.

You swallowed hard. 

“I think I might really like you Trinity,” you whispered, realizing the truth of your words as you spoke them.

Trinity’s eyes widened. 

But she didn’t pull away.

Instead she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against yours. 

“You’re stupid to admit that (y/n).”

You shrugged. 

“I don’t care. I can’t stop thinking about you Trinity,” you professed.

It felt like word vomit, you couldn’t stop bearing your heart to her. Even though you knew she would just take your heart and stomp on it.

“You’ve won.”

At that admission Trinity opened her eyes and pulled away from you completely. 

She stepped backwards and shook her head softly. “You’re wrong.”

You missed the heat of Trinity’s body against yours. 

So you pushed off the door and closed the distance between the two of you. 

Trinity tried to turn away but you stopped her.

You hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look at you. 

“You’ve bewitched me.”

Trinity’s gaze softened. “Oh so you’re the Mr. Darcy in this?”

A tender smile spread across your face. 

Trinity sighed then brought your hand down from her face. She laced her fingers through yours. 

“I didn’t win (y/n),” she began and took a fortifying breath. “Because my mind, body, and soul were yours weeks ago.”

Blush crept across Trinity’s cheeks. 

Your breath caught in your throat.

Trinity met your gaze. “Kissing you last week only confirmed it,” she added.

You frowned. “Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“Beacuse it scared the crap out of me,” she confessed with a sigh. 

With your free hand you tucked a stray lock of black hair behind Trinity’s ear. 

“The ferocious, badass Trinity Santos was scared by some itty bitty feelings?” You teased, hoping to ease some of Trinity’s obvious anxiety. 

“What I feel for you isn’t small (y/n).” 

The intensity of Trinity’s stare only underscored the weight of her words.

“Oh,” was all you could say.

The reality that Trinity actually really liked you fried your brain for a second.

But that second of hesitation was enough for Trinity’s walls to go back up. 

She pulled away from you completely and walked towards the door. 

“Forget it all. It’s stupid,” she grumbled.

You blocked the exit and put a calming hand on her chest. 

Trinity didn’t meet your gaze.

“It’s not stupid,” you reassured her. 

Then you placed a kiss on her jaw, then another on her neck.

“Let me show you how strongly I feel about you,” you whispered then slowly lowered yourself onto your knees.

Trinity’s gaze met yours as you went down.

She swallowed hard as she watched.

Once you were on your knees you undid the knot of her scrub pants.

You looked up at her. “Do you want me?”

Trinity nodded wordlessly. 

“Say it,” you ordered.

She smiled. “I want you (y/l/n).”

“Good girl,” you praised then brought her pants down. 

Maybe Trinity would ignore you after you made her orgasm in the on-call room. Maybe she would surprise you and take you out on a date. 

Or maybe she’d tell you to keep things casual and all you two would ever be was friends with benefits.

But you weren’t exactly friends.

You were rivals.

At least you used to be.

Maybe now you were something else all together.

They were all questions for another time.

The beat of your heart boomed in your ears. You felt like a trapped animal, desperate. 

You ran to the dean’s private viewing box only to find it empty. 

Your stomach sank.

You turned around and raced down the hall. 

“Cate!”

Nothing.

You turned the corner and down another set of halls. 

They couldn’t have disappeared that fast.

Nothing, again.

You stopped and tried to steady your heartbeat. 

Running around the endless maze of halls would waste time.

You took a deep breath. 

The ringing in your ears settled. 

That’s when you heard it. 

Muffed screams. 

You ran towards it. 

Down the stairs and towards the sound.

You followed it all the way down to the loading docks.

Then you saw them.

A couple of Vought goons holding Cate captive.

You raced forward but they were too far away.

They were already loading Cate into the back of a van.

“Cate,” you called out.

The Vought guards stopped and turned around. 

Cate looked up and met your gaze.

Her eyes were filled with fear. 

You needed to save her.

But your feet weren’t fast enough.

The guards threw Cate into the back of the van then got in themselves. They closed the back of the doors and the van sped off.

You watched as the van drove away. The name on the side of the van made the blood in your veins freeze.

Elmira Detention Facility.

You swallowed hard. 

Cate was gone.

You had to go save her.

So you ran back inside the building and towards the locker rooms.

You knew that’s where they would take Jordan and Marie after the fight.

A crowd of press gathered in front of the locker room doors. 

You pushed your way through and burst inside the room.

Jordan’s head whirled towards you, shifting into their male form at the sound of the doors crashing open. 

“They took Cate,” you shouted. 

Marie walked up to you and put a hand on your arm. 

“We know (y/n),” she soothed.

Jordan shifted back into their female form and sighed. “Cipher told us.”

You walked towards the lockers and slammed your palm against them. 

Then you pressed your forehead against the cool metal. 

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. 

You couldn’t stop them. You couldn’t save her.

For a second time.

Your vision started to blur.

-

Cate wondered if this is how you felt when you were taken to Elmira.

If the dank, dark, van jostled you as the driver carelessly sped down the road. 

If you were just as scared as she was. 

The van came to a screeching halt. 

Then the guards that sat in the back with her opened the doors and got out. 

Then they ordered Cate to do the same.

Afterwards they walked Cate into the imposing building and guided her into a cold room with fluorescent lights overhead. 

Cate felt a shiver go down her spine.

The guard shoved Cate in front of a white background and before Cate realized the flash of a camera went off. 

Then the same guard hauled her in front of a table and removed her handcuffs. 

Another guard ordered her to strip down completely.

“Can you at least turn around?” Cate asked, trying to maintain some form of dignity. 

The guard in front of her scoffed. 

“Shut the fuck up and strip down,” he barked.

Shame washed over Cate. 

As Cate began to remove her clothes she realized you probably had to do the exact same thing when you were brought to Elmira. 

The universe had a sick sense of irony.

After she was naked she covered her chest with her hand.

One of the guards removed her prosthetic arm and another her wig.

Cate wasn’t sure if she was more upset or more embarrassed.

A faint electrical buzzing turned Cate’s head.

A different guard approached her with a power dampening collar.

Panic shot up inside of Cate.

She ducked away from the guard’s grasp then put her hand on his face.

“Kill the others then yourself,” she ordered. 

But of course her powers were broken.

So instead of killing the other guards he turned his taser onto himself and fell to the ground.

The other guard ran to help the fallen one.

Cate took her chance and rushed towards the exit. 

It was pointless. 

More guards entered the room, cornered Cate, and put the dampening collar on her.

Before Cate could protest she was shocked and her vision went dark.

-

Catatonic for a second time.

This time you laid on the spare bed in Emma’s dorm room. 

Your mind raced with horrible images of Cate in Elmira. You could only imagine the worst.

You needed to go and save her. 

But you couldn’t do it alone, that much you knew.

Would your friends join you?

They still hated Cate so much.

Your stomach twisted in knots. 

Emma busied herself on the other side of the room with bottles of alcohol.

“There’s an old tradition dating back to my cousin Eli’s Transformers themed bar mitzvah to help get through times like these,” Emma said as she grabbed one of the bottles of tequila and opened it.

She poured the clear liquid into four shot glasses then turned around to face Jordan, who sat on Emma’s bed, and Marie, who sat at Emma’s desk.

“And that tradition my friends is to get mind numbingly shit faced,” Emma continued. 

She handed Jordan a shot.

Jordan took it and clinked their glass against Emma’s.

Then they both downed their shots. 

Emma turned towards Marie.

“You don’t wanna pour one out for Miss Cate?”

Marie turned back to the notepad on Emma’s desk and resumed writing something down.

“No,” Marie responded, annoyed.

Emma set a shot glass onto the desk then turned towards you. 

“I know you won’t take it but you look like you need it the most,” Emma said as they approached you.

You looked over at Emma and didn’t respond.

Emma sighed then turned back towards Jordan, who accepted a second shot. 

Marie sighed aloud then turned back around. “Guys this is seriously fucked.”

“Karma’s a bitch,” Emma quipped then downed another shot.

Jordan did the same.

Emma turned to look at you. “You’re not gonna yell at me?”

“It would be pointless,” you replied dryly as you continued to stare at the ceiling.

“We can’t leave her there,” Marie continued. 

You shot up and met Marie’s gaze.

“You mean that?”

Marie softened. 

“She might not even be there,” Emma interjected. 

You rolled your eyes and laid back down, hopes dashed.

“Cipher could be lying,” Emma added then downed a third shot of tequila.

“I watched them take her away Emma,” you confessed. “I couldn’t save her.”

Emma softened then sighed and turned back to Marie. “Then it’s definitely a trap. Cipher wants us to try and rescue her so he can fuck us over again.”

“She stuck her neck out for us,” Marie reasoned. “And now she’s paying the price.”

Emma scoffed. “Cate is the reason we got locked up in the first place.”

“And we know better than anyone what a nightmare it is,” Marie countered.

You sat up again and turned to Emma and Jordan. “I can’t leave her there, alone. At least we had each other.”

Jordan sighed. “There’s a reason Marie didn’t come back to rescue us. It’s a suicide mission.”

“I regretted it every day that I left you all behind,” Marie replied.

Emma continued to drink. 

“We have to get her out because it’s the right thing to do.” Marie stood and walked towards Jordan.  “I get it if you don’t want to do this.”

Jordan swallowed hard. “Because I’m so weak?”

Marie shook her head. “No, I didn’t say that.”

Jordan scowled. “Cipher did.”

Marie lowered her voice.  “I can’t even begin to understand what he did to you, but it’s okay if you need-.”

Jordan hopped off the bed and cleared their throat. “I don’t need shit. Fuck him. Let’s get her.”

Emma looked around the room in disbelief. “What is wrong with you all? Why in the fuck would we go back to that hell hole?”

Marie turned back to Emma.  “Trap or not, if we get word that Cate died in there and we did nothing, are you going to be able to live with that?”

“Yes,” Emma replied. Then she sighed. “No. Fuck. Fuck. I’m in.”

You swung your legs off the bed and stood. “Really?” You asked Emma, not wanting to get your hopes up just yet.

Emma nodded. “Yeah, you’d be insufferable if she died,” she muttered. 

You half smiled. “Thank you,” you said to all of your friends. 

“So, what the fuck do we do,” Emma asked after downing a final shot of tequila.

Marie grabbed the paper she was scribbling on. It was the basic layout of the Elmira prison building they were held in. Marie put it up on Emma’s corkboard and circled her previous cell. 

“My cell was here, corner block. That guard that always smelled like chocolate was taking me to solitary here,” Marie said then pointed to another section on the drawing.

Emma stepped closer to Marie. “Hershey Harry? I remember him. He kinda disappeared around the same time as you…,” Emma trailed off.

Marie cleared her throat and continued, “I found an air duct pointing up and just fucking booked it.”

Jordan furrowed their brow at the crude map hung in front of them. “Even if we find a way in, and find Cate, there’s no way we can get out the same way. Guards will be all over us.”

You nodded. “More guards, reinforced doors, all that shit doubled after Marie escaped so we don’t even know what they did after we were transferred.”

Emma chewed on the end of a pen. “So if we’re actually going to pull this off and let me be very clear this plan is crazy and I hate it," Emma trailed off and drew a heart on the map where Andre died. “But I love you guys more so we’re gonna need help from someone really strong and crazy.”

You turned to Emma. “Sam?”

Emma nodded. “I’ll give him a call.”

Then you all agreed to pack up some things before leaving. You would all meet up and head out in Jordan’s car.

So off you went to pack your bag.

-

You didn’t pack much, just a change of clothes, and some extra underwear. Just to be on the safe side.

Then you headed out towards where Jordan had parked their car. 

Marie and Jordan were already there, talking about the big elephant in the room by the looks of it.

You cleared your throat as you approached.

They whirled around towards you. 

“You all set,” Jordan asked.

You nodded. 

Jordan took your bag and threw it into the trunk.

Emma jogged up to the car. “Bad news. Sam isn’t coming.”

Jordan sighed. “Fuck.”

“Look, I didn’t have you guys last time. We can do this,” Marie reassured the group.

“Together,” you added. 

Marie turned to you and held your hand. She gave it a squeeze. 

“Eaxactly,” Marie replied.

Jordan rolled their eyes. “This is insane.”

Mare’s gaze drifted back toward Jordan. 

“As much as I wanted to deny it, Cipher is right. I am stronger than I’ve ever been. I can feel it. When you- when he was attacking me I felt I could’ve destroyed the whole arena.”

Emma and Jordan shared an uneasy look.

Now it was you who gave Marie’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’re going to pull it off.”

Emma threw her bag into the trunk and Jordan promptly closed it.

Marie let go of your hand and walked over to the passenger side of the car. 

“Emma,” someone called out.

Everyone looked over to see a tall, blond guy jogging up towards Emma.

Jordan tensed.

Emma put a hand on Jordan’s arm. “It’s Greg, he’s fine.”

Jordan relaxed.

Emma walked over to Greg. 

You walked over to Jordan. 

“Who’s he?”

Jordan shrugged. “I dunno.”

After a quick exchange Emma and Greg stared into each other’s eyes. It looked like they were going to kiss before Emma stepped back and said goodbye to Greg.

Then Emma jogged back to the car. 

You raised your brows at her. 

Jordan opened the car door for Emma.

“Well well well,” they teased.

Emma slid past you into the backseat. 

“Shut up,” Emma grumbled. 

You slid in next to her and Jordan shut the door before circling back to the driver’s seat.

Marie sat in the passenger seat.

“Let’s go rescue this bitch,” Emma quipped.

You turned to her with a frown. “Emma,” you chided.

Emma smiled then ripped open a pack of licorice and took one in her mouth.

-

The drive to Elmira was long and mostly quiet. It was pitch black when you arrived.

Jordan parked the car a ways out and you all walked the rest of the way. 

When you all reached the barbed wire fence surrounding Elmira, Jordan threw a blanket over the barbed wire and knelt down to help Marie and Emma over the fence. 

You took a deep breath then closed your eyes. 

A faint buzzing in your ears let you know you were phasing.

You stepped forward and through the fence. 

“Show off,” Emma muttered. 

You let go of the breath you were holding and reality came back into view.

You smiled at Emma and waited for the rest of your friends to make it over the fence.

Then you all rushed to the side of the building.

Marie turned to you. “Can you phase through?”

You put your hand up to the concrete wall and closed your eyes. 

“It’s too thick,” you responded.

You opened your eyes and turned back to Marie. 

“Sorry,” you added.

“It’s okay,” Marie replied.

“Looks like we’re going for a climb,” Emma interjected.

Jordan once again got on their knees and helped everyone with a push.

After scaling the wall you ran towards the air duct on the roof. 

Jordan caught up shortly after and ripped the cover off the duct.

Marie’s face dropped. “What the fuck?”

Your stomach twisted in knots. “It was filled in.”

Emma panicked. “Trap trap! I fucking told you it was a trap.”

The sound of a small thud pulled your attention to the side. 

An aluminum canister rolled next to you.

Smoke began to pour out of it.

“Fuck, hold your breath,” Jordan yelled. 

But it was too late. 

Smoke filled your lungs and soon everything went black.

-

You woke up, vision still hazy, to the sound of your body being dragged by two guards. 

They pulled you by the arms then pushed you into an empty cell. 

You fell to the ground, the cold floor shook the remaining sedative out of your system.

The cell door shut and the mechanical whirring of the locks fell into place.

“Home fucked home,” you heard a familiar voice say.

You rushed to the window in the cell door. 

It was Emma.

Her cell was in the center of the hall, with floor to ceiling windows- zero privacy. 

The same cell she had been locked up in the first time.

You looked around and realized they had thrown you into the same cell as well.

“Emma?”

Your eyes flashed back towards the hall. 

“Cate,” you called out. 

Cate stood on the other side of the hall, in her own cell. 

Cate’s eyes met yours. “(y/n)?”

Emma looked between you and Cate then let out a sarcastic huff. “Oh my god, this is so fucked up.”

Then Emma turned back to look at Cate. “You look like a weird barbie.”

Even from across the hall you could see the blush taint Cate’s pale cheeks. Then she turned the side of her with the exposed scalp away. 

“Cipher ordered them to grab the both of you too?” Cate asked.

You bit your lip. “Not exactly.”

Emma gestured wildly. “This is your rescue.”

Cate’s gaze met your own. She softened.

“You came to rescue me?”

The edge of your mouth quirked upwards. “Of course I did…” Then you smiled sheepishly at her. “Though, it’s not going well at the moment.”

Emma flopped onto the thin foam mattress in her cell. “It was stupid. Now we’re all here, one big happy fucked up family.”

Cate furrowed her brows. “Everyone? Marie and Jordan too?”

You nodded. “Yeah, we all got caught together.”

Cate’s brows shot up. “Wow…” 

She slowly slid down the door until she was on the ground. She looked over at Emma.

“I can’t believe after everything you would join a rescue attempt for me Emma,” Cate said.

Emma shrugged. “I didn’t do it for you,” she answered, then looked over at you.

A pang of guilt throbbed at your side. 

If you had just done this on your own Emma wouldn’t have been brought to the place she hated the most.

“Not that any of it matters, cause we’re all going to die here,” Emma finished with a sigh.

You looked back over at Emma. “No we are not. I promise you Emma.”

Emma didn’t meet your gaze. 

“Still, thank you Emma,” Cate said before turning her gaze back onto you. “You shouldn’t have come. Now you’re stuck in here too.”

You softened. “I wasn’t just going to stand around and leave you here.”

An errant tear streamed down Cate’s cheek. 

You tapped the steel door in front of you. 

Maybe this time you’d be able to phase through. 

You took a deep breath and held your hand against the door.

After a few seconds the atoms in your hand started to phase.

“You couldn’t phase out the last hundred times you tried (y/n), don’t think tonight will be any different,” Emma negged as she tossed and turned on the foam mattress. 

You rolled your eyes. 

But your hand couldn’t pass through the steel door. 

You sighed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence Emma.”

Then you turned towards the concrete walls of your cell.

You were never able to get very far. The walls were thick, thicker than the one on the outside of the building, and you couldn’t hold your breath for that long.

Reminders of your last stay in Elmira flashed in your mind as you approached the wall.

Your tests always focused on your phasing ability. 

It didn’t surprise you.

Everyone had always encouraged you to develop those powers. They were flashier than your shield powers, so you would have a better chance of making it big with them.

But you hated phasing.

It was energy intensive. 

You could only phase as long as you held your breath and you could never hold it for longer than 90 seconds. 

In Elmira you learned that releasing small amounts of breath while phasing inside something caused you an immense amount of pain.

Guards would bring you into a large room, empty except a large slab of concrete placed vertically in the center of the room. It was thicker than anything you had phased through before. 

The guards would instruct you to phase through it. 

You always let them know you couldn’t. It was too thick. You couldn’t hold your breath long enough to get through. 

The guards would repeat their order and shock you if you didn’t comply.

You never managed to make it through to the other side. 

Somewhere around the middle, from what you overheard others say as you were never fully certain of your surroundings when you phased, you would start to release small amounts of breath. 

Pain surged all over, radiating from who knows where. 

You couldn’t feel your body, but as your phasing atoms slowed into solid states the pressure of the concrete radiated an intense pain all over you.

At first you always attempted to turn back, go out the way you had come in, but you quickly learned that guards would place a sheet of steel to block your exit.

The one material you couldn’t even come close to phasing through was steel.

The only way out was through the other side.

But you couldn’t do it. 

So you would stay in between, in unending amounts of pain, until a booming voice came over the speakers in the room to instruct the guards to remove the steel slab. 

Now you knew that booming voice was Cipher’s. 

Every session would end with you passing out and falling out of the concrete. You would awake in your cell, sore all over and with lingering pain in your lungs.

You stared at the wall, beads of cold sweat collecting on your brow. 

You knew the walls of your cell were thicker than the test slab of concrete. 

You swallowed hard. 

You needed to do this. You needed to get through to the walls in the hall and find a way to free your friends. 

It was up to you.

So you swallowed hard then took in a large swell of breath.

You put your palms up to the wall and soon you started to phase. 

Your palms disappeared into the wall and soon you were up to your elbows in the wall.

You closed your eyes as you prepared to submerge yourself but stopped when you heard a familiar sound.

It was Emma.

You immediately pulled out of the wall and ran towards the door. 

She had her head over the bucket guards placed in her cell. 

She was puking.

You opened your mouth to speak but Cate was already in the middle of comforting Emma. 

Elmira had a way of exacerbating Emma’s eating disorder. 

Cate held Emma’s gaze. 

“We are going to get out of here,” Cate said, determined.

Emma scoffed. 

“Who’s going to save us Cate?”

“We’re going to save ourselves,” you answered. 

Emma turned over to look at you. 

Her eyes looked so desperate

“I promise,” you whispered.

Emma turned back to the bucket in her arms. 

You looked over at Cate. 

She sighed then walked towards the back of her cell, out of view.

You turned back to the nearest wall of your cell. 

You took a deep breath then closed your eyes. 

The familiar feeling of your body beginning to phase washed over you as you walked into the wall.

-

Cate waited with baited breath as the guard banged on the cell door, calling out to her.

“What’s wrong with her? She’s bleeding,” Cate heard the guard say to someone, probably Emma.

“Who knows,” Emma replied, uninterested.

Cate’s lungs burned harder the longer she held her breath. 

But the guard had to believe she was passed out.

Thankfully, he did. 

The guard stepped into Cate’s cell and knelt down beside Cate’s limp body. 

In the blink of an eye Cate sat up and touched the guard’s neck.

She ordered him to give her the keys then kill himself.

The guard stood and used his taser on himself.

“Oh shit,” Emma gasped.

Cate rushed to the guard and took the keys from him. 

She took off the power damper collar she had tampered with the hurried to Emma’s cell to unlock it.

-

You were deep in the wall, concrete all around you.

Faint screams and sounds filtered through. 

Were your friends in trouble?

You focused and tried to find the quickest way out of the wall, your lungs already screaming for air.

It was all for nothing. You couldn’t make out any direction. 

Until you heard Cate’s voice call out to you.

“(y/n)? Where did she go?”

Then Emma’s.

“Holy fuck, she’s in the walls.”

You hurried towards their voices before you got any more lightheaded.

You burst out of the wall in the hallway and crashed onto the floor.

Emma and Cate ran out of your cell. 

Cate knelt down beside you.

“Are you okay?”

Your chest heaved as you gasped for air.

You couldn’t speak so you just nodded. 

Then it dawned on you, they were out of their cells. 

You furrowed your brows. 

“How?”

Emma turned to Cate. Cate smiled at you sheepishly.

“So I almost just died for no reason?”

Cate let out a small laugh then swung your arm over her shoulder. She and Emma helped you stand, your legs still a bit weak.

After you were upright Emma let go and took the guard’s keys from Cate. She ran down the hall and through another door, searching for Marie and Jordan’s cells.

You and Cate hobbled behind Emma the fastest you could given how much phasing had drained you. 

Eventually, Emma found the rest of their friends. She opened Marie’s cell first. Marie ran out in disbelief. 

“You got out? How?”

Emma moved to unlock Marie’s collar. 

“It was all Cate.”

You regained the strength in your legs and let go of Cate. 

“I almost had it,” you interjected. 

Cate threaded her fingers through yours. 

“Sorry I beat you to the punch babe.”

Your ears perked up at the pet name. You met Cate’s gaze.

“Babe?”

Emma cleared her throat as she ran to Jordan’s cell to unlock it.

“Now is so not the time you two,” she chided.

Once Jordan was out they looked around the hall, confused.

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

Emma tried to get Jordan to stay still to remove his collar but he fidgeted impatiently. 

Jordan turned to Cate. 

“You guys got out, ran here,and no guards, no alarms no nothing?”

Reality dawned on Cate. She frowned.

“They want us to escape.”

Emma finally unlocked the collar, it fell to Jordan’s feet.

“They want us to try,” Marie corrected.

“Like Andre,” you added somberly.

Marie shook her head then turned to Emma. 

“We don’t have a choice. Let’s slip up, you guys go, I'll get Annabeth.”

You turned to Jordan with a furrowed brow. “Annabeth?”

Marie took the guard’s keys from Emma.

Jordan grabbed Marie by the elbow to stop her from running off. 

“You’re not doing this alone, nobody left behind this time.”

Marie opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by the prison’s alarm system.

Everyone started to run, following wherever Marie led.

Annabeth’s cell was in the adjoining section and after Jordan broke into the guard station to unlock the door the group was able to find her.

Unfortunately they were too late.

Marie unlocked the cell to find Annabeth on the ground in a pool of blood.

You winced and Cate buried her face in your shoulder.

Marie knelt down beside her sister. 

“Guys, we have to go,” Emma said in a panic.

You nodded.

But a searing pain stabbed your brain and you felt blood come out of your nose.

You looked around and realized it was happening to all your friends. 

Everyone fell to their knees in pain. 

Then as soon as it had started, it ended. 

Annabeth’s eyes flashed open. She gasped for breath as she sat up.

Everyone else managed to stand. 

The prison’s alarms grew louder.

“They’re coming,” Jordan warned.

You pulled Cate towards the exit. “We have to go now,” you shouted.

Emma followed while Jordan remained by Marie’s side as they waited for Annabeth to find the strength to stand. 

Once she did, everyone raced down the hall.

As you rounded the corner you saw a group of guards coming towards you.

They aimed their guns at you and your friends but Jordan rushed to the front and blasted them with their force fields.

You followed your friends down another series of halls and stopped when you noticed Annabeth stopped in front of a door. 

“This way,” she called out and ran through the door.

Everyone followed after.

It was a dead end.

“Fuck, back this way,” Jordan commanded.

But Annabeth didn’t move. 

“He’s almost here!”

Moments later a familiar face burst through the concrete wall. 

It was Sam. 

He looked at everyone with a wide smile. “Whoo! I thought it would be way harder to find you guys. I found a van but I don’t drive.”

“I got it!” Jordan said as they rushed past Sam and towards the aforementioned van. 

Everyone followed and climbed into the stolen van. Jordan hit the gas and steamrolled through the gates of Elmira.

-

After several hours of aimless driving the stolen van ran out of gas so you were all left to walk. You happened upon an empty building.

The team needed food, water, and a working bathroom. So you all ventured inside.

Emma dashed in search of a restroom while Sam wandered looking for food.

You followed everyone else into the children’s section of the library.

Cate wandered off while you looked around at the piles of half burnt books and empty shelves.

Then Cate pulled a box of clothes into the center of the room.

Annabeth was the first to approach the box and pick through the clothes.

Cate suggested everyone wear something from the box to look less conspicuous. 

She pulled out a muscle tank top. 

“You’ll look cute in this,” she said and handed it to you.

Your cheeks warmed under her gaze. You took the shirt and thanked her.

Cate grabbed a beanie, hoodie, and t-shirt then walked off towards the book shelves on the other side of the room. 

You followed but stopped and turned away from her when you noticed she started to undress.

“Seriously?” Cate asked with a small laugh. 

Your face warmed anew. “I’m being polite.”

After some light rustling Cate cleared her throat. “You can look now.”

You turned back around. 

Cate smiled sheepishly at you. 

“Cute,” you said and pulled the beanie down evenly. 

She smiled then looked at you expectantly. 

“Oh, right, my turn,” you said then waited for Cate to turn around.

Cate let out another small laugh but turned away.

“We’ve gotten dressed around each other before (y/n).”

You unzipped the orange jumpsuit and tied sleeves around your waist. Then you slid on the tank top.

“It’s different now,” you reasoned.

Cate turned her head slightly, to look at you through the corner of her gaze. 

You crossed your arms against your  chest. “You’re peeking?”

Cate blushed then turned away again. 

“It’s fine, I’m done anyways,” you said.

She turned towards you and walked up to place a kiss on your cheek. 

Then her brow furrowed. 

“Cate?” You asked.

But her gaze was no longer on you. 

You followed it to see Annabeth and Marie in a heated conversation. 

“You’re a precog,” Cate interjected.

You frowned. “Listening in to other people’s conversations isn’t polite.”

Cate’s gaze landed back on you. “I wasn’t.”

You heard angry footsteps slowly fade away. You turned around to see Marie alone by a book shelf.

You gave her a small smile. 

She shook her head and walked off. 

You turned back towards Cate. 

“You okay?” You asked her.

She nodded. “You?”

You shrugged. “It wasn’t as bad as the first time, oddly enough.”

Cate wandered through the empty shelves, you followed. 

You bit the inside of your cheek. 

“Soo..” You said then trailed off. 

Cate stopped and looked back at you. “Something on your mind?”

You nodded. 

She faced you, a small wrinkle in her forehead. “What is it?”

“Back in Elmira, when we were, you know, escaping and everything…”

“Yeah?”

Your face warmed anew. “You called me babe…you’ve never called me that before.”

“Oh,” Cate responded, a tingle of pink dotting her cheeks. 

A silent beat passed between the two of you. 

You and Cate barely had any time post love confessions to talk about what you two even were to each other. 

“Did I overstep?” Cate asked.

You shook your head. “No no, I…I liked it,” you replied with a sheepish smile.

Cate’s shoulders relaxed. She closed the distance between the two of you and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“Good,” she murmured into the kiss.

Cate wrapped her arm around your shoulder and brought you closer against her. 

Your hands fell to her hips. 

She deepened the kiss and slipped her tongue into your mouth.

You savored the taste of her.

The moment was cut short by hurried footsteps. 

“Marie,” Jordan called out. 

You pulled away from Cate and turned towards Jordan.

Then you both followed them into the center of the library. 

Annabeth was on the ground, hyperventilating. 

You instantly knew she was having a panic attack. You’d had your fair share of them.

Thankfully Marie rushed in and helped calm her sister down. 

Afterwards Annabeth shot up and turned towards the door. 

“Move,” she shouted.

A whirring sounded before you saw an object coming towards everyone. 

Thankfully Jordan switched to their male form and blocked it. 

It fell to the floor and that’s when you got a good look at it.

Emma and Sam rushed in from behind you all.

“What the fuck was that?”

The object Jordan had blocked was a hammer. And that hammer belonged to only one person you knew of. 

Marie caught on as well. “It’s the stupid fucking viking. Get Annabeth somewhere safe.”

Emma grabbed Annabeth and led her to a small door that led to a private section of the library. You and Cate followed close behind. 

Once inside Annabeth turned to you, Emma, and Cate. 

“Aren’t you all supes? Can’t you do something?”

Cate sighed. “I can’t do shit,” she cursed then turned towards Emma. “Get gigantic and squash him.” 

Emma nodded quickly. “Right right.”

You watched Emma close her eyes and take a deep breath. She attempted to concentrate but the chaos just on the other side of the door only got louder.

“Fuck I’m too freaked out,” Emma said and opened her eyes. 

You wrapped your arm around Cate then reached out to Annabeth with the other. 

“Everyone hold hands.”

Annabeth furrowed her brow but did so and reached out to hold Emma’s hand. 

Then you focused on your breathing. 

Soon a faint shimmer enveloped your group, washing over each one. 

“What are you doing,” Annabeth questioned. 

“She had shielding powers,” Cate explained. 

Annabeth nodded but still seemed confused. 

“Basically I can create a force field to protect us but we all need to be connected to do so, ergo holding each other’s hands,” you said and held up the hand that was holding Annabeth’s. 

“Oh,” she replied. 

Emma’s head swiveled towards Cate. “Wait, say something nice about me. Maybe I can still get gigantic.”

Cate’s brows knit together. “Like what?”

Emma frowned. “Oh fuck you.”

The conversation ended as Sam crashed through the wall and bounced off of your shield onto a pile of debris. 

“Holy shit,” Emma shouted.

You lowered your shield and stood up. Cate followed behind you. 

No one rushed in behind Sam so you stepped out into the other room through the hole sam had made. 

“Guys, where’d the viking go?” Cate asked.

You turned back to them. “Coast is clear.”

Everyone stood and looked around. Sure enough the viking was gone.

Then you all heard commotion outside so you all rushed outside to see the viking get decapitated by a little girl with snakes coming out of her mouth. 

Your hand instinctively wrapped around Cate, and you raised your shield. 

The viking’s body hit the floor with a loud thud.

A man in sunglasses and a grey puffer vest walked up to Marie. He introduced himself as Stan Edgar.

“What the fuck is happening?” Emma interjected.

Jordan folded their arms against their chest. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Unfortunately, I’m out of business cards,” Stan Edgar replied. 

“He used to run Vought,” Cate explained. 

Stan’s lips straightened into a tight smile. “Yes I did, but it’s a volatile market so I’ve been pursuing other opportunities.”

Marie’s brow furrowed. “What do you want?”

“You. I believe we can help each other,” Stan explained. 

You lowered your shield but didn’t let go of Cat’s waist.

Marie made it clear to Stan that she would only go with him if everyone joined. Stan agreed and everyone piled into his black SUV.

You climbed into the very last row in the back and sat down beside Cate. She leaned her head on your shoulder. 

Her touch grounded you.

Stan informed everyone it would be a long drive.

You let your head rest against the seat and closed your eyes. The adrenaline of escaping Elmira and being on the run started to wear off, replaced by bone deep exhaustion. 

-

Hours later you stood in the back of an elevator with everyone else and watched as it descended deep, deep, underground. 

Stan explained he had a bunker built before they became a trend. 

Once the elevator stopped he pulled the metal gate back and let everyone walk into the bunker. 

You looked around as you walked in. 

It was chic as hell, clean, and with multiple floors from what you could see. You wondered how much you couldn’t see. 

Stan asked Zoe, the little girl with snakes in her mouth that took down a man twice her size, to show the group to the living quarters and showers. 

Zoe turned to you and your friends. “This way,” she said and started up the stairs. 

You nudged Cate’s shoulder. 

Cate looked over at you. “I’ll stay with them,” she said and nodded her head towards Marie and Jordan. 

“Okay,” you replied and followed behind Sam and Emma.

You weren’t sure why Cate wanted to stay behind but you were too tired to argue. 

-

One long, steaming hot shower later the tension in your muscles was gone and you felt rejuvenated. 

As you toweled off it finally clicked for you that you actually phased through layers and layers of concrete.

You’d never been able to do that before. 

Pride swelled inside you. 

But it was quickly replaced by anxiety. 

You were only able to phase through because you had been pushed to your limit by Cipher, and because you wanted to save your friends. 

You realized the precariousness of your situation. At any moment you and your friends could be captured, killed, or tortured. 

You’d lost Cate in a matter of minutes back at the fight, and then got her back just a few hours later.

Taking Cate out on a date and properly courting her was not a possibility, at least not any time soon. 

It upset you that you couldn’t take things slow like you wanted to but the possibility of losing Cate without giving all of yourself over to her upset you even more. 

So you changed back into your old clothes and stepped out of the bathroom. 

You wandered the halls until you found Zoe. 

You asked if her grandfather kept any alcohol in the bunker, and candles….or chocolate? 

Zoe was nervous and gave you a sideways glance. 

You explained you wanted to do something special for someone you loved.

She smiled and led you down more halls until you reached a storage room filled with rows and rows of food, drinks, dry goods, first aid, etc. 

You spotted a bottle of champagne and some emergency candles. 

Zoe brought you some matches then led you to a spare room. She told you she’d bring some glasses for the champagne. 

After she left you turned to the task at hand, making a room in an underground bunker (though it was a chic one) romantic enough for your first time with Cate.

No biggie.

You arranged the candles about the room, then lit them. They provided a warm glow. Then you fluffed the pillows on the bed.

A few minutes later Zoe returned with two champagne flutes. Of course a man like Stan Edgar would have fancy champagne flutes in his apocalypse bunker. 

You thanked Zoe. 

She looked around the room. 

“It’s cute,” she said.

You sighed. “Given the circumstances it’s not too bad.”

Then you asked Zoe for one last favor. You asked her to bring Cate to your room.

Zoe nodded and left to find Cate.

You thought about how to arrange the champagne. On the bed? No. On the nearby table?

So lost in your thoughts you didn’t hear Zoe return with Cate until they knocked on your door.

You turned just as the door to your room opened. 

Cate peeked her head inside. “Zoe said you wanted to see me?”

Then her eyes landed on the candles. 

“Come in,” you breathed and wiped the sweat off your palms on your orange jumpsuit pants.

Cate closed the door behind her as she entered. She looked around the candle lit room. 

“What is all this?”

You grabbed Cate’s hand, threaded your fingers through hers, and guided her onto the bed beside you. 

“In the shower I realized something, tomorrow is never promised for people like us,” you admitted.

Then you let go of Cate’s hand and moved to grab the Champagne bottle. 

Cate’s forehead wrinkled in surprise. “Where’d you find that?”

You smiled shyly. “I asked Zoe for some help.”

You uncorked the bottle then stood up to pour champagne into the two flutes Zoe had brought you. Then you took one and handed it to Cate.

“I don’t want to wait for a tomorrow that might never be so I thought, what better time than the present for our first date?”

Cate took it and smiled up at you. 

“(y/n) this is…”

You grabbed your own flute then sat back down next to her on the bed. “I know it’s not much but-”

“It’s perfect,” Cate interrupted. 

Then she clinked her flute against yours. “Cheers,” she toasted, then brought the flute to her lips.

Cate continued to look around the room. “This is really cute (y/n), thank you.”

An awkward silence descended between the two of you, again. You both sipped on the champagne in silence. 

Finally, you cleared your throat. 

“How are you feeling, now that we’ve had a moment to catch our breath,” you asked her. 

Cate set the empty glass on the floor next to her then turned to you. 

“I wasn’t in Elmira long. I’m okay for the most part. How are you? I know it couldn’t have been easy being back there.”

You downed the rest of your champagne and set it aside. 

“Elmira was the hardest for Emma I think. I just can’t believe I was able to phase through the walls.”

“It was pretty badass,” Cate replied. 

Your face warmed under her praise. “Thanks.” Then you grimaced. 

“What is it?”

“I hate that Cipher was right. I was so worried about you, and the others that I pushed myself to the very limit and did something I never thought I’d be able to.”

Cate was quiet for a moment then frowned. “I hate that I can’t be of more help.”

You reached over and placed your hand atop Cate’s. 

“We will find a way to heal you Cate, I swear it.”

Cate smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

“Could Marie fix my powers?” Cate wondered aloud. 

You furrowed your brow. “I don’t know…maybe?”

Cate bit her lower lip then sighed. “Even if she could, do you think she’d do it?”

You frowned. “I don’t think she trusts you, yet.”

“None of them do,” Cate said with a sigh.

You gave her hand a light squeeze. “You’ve done a lot of good. They’ll come around eventually.”

Cate met your gaze and softened. 

“I’m just thankful you never gave up on me.”

You cupped Cate’s face with your free hand.

“I know your heart Cate. You’re good,” you whispered. 

Cate held your gaze.

Your heart started to race. 

Would you ever get used to Cate looking at you like that?

Then, in an instant, Cate’s lips were against yours. 

Your hand fell from her face down to her thigh.

The kiss was hungry, needy, and soon it was not enough.

Cate pulled away and let her forehead rest against yours. 

“We should slow down,” she breathed.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. “You sure?”

“You want to take things slow, remember?” Cate joked with a small smile.

You pulled away from Cate and met her gaze. “We don’t know what fresh hell awaits us tomorrow. I want to give all of myself to you, Cate Dunlap.”

Cate’s jaw dropped a bit but she quickly recovered and smiled. “Okay,” she whispered then pushed you back onto the bed with her hand.

You laid back and swallowed hard when Cate straddled you. 

A pulsating need began to grow between your legs. 

You bit down on your lip as Cate steadied herself on top of you.  

She leaned down and stopped short of your lips. 

“I love you (y/n),” she breathed with a wistful sigh.

“I love you more,” you replied then reached up and captured her lips with your own. 

Making love to Cate was definitely a dream you’d had quite a few times, but they all paled to the reality of feeling her naked body against your own. 

Your body dripped with sweat as the two of you continued your lovemaking well into the night. 

Neither could get enough of the other. 

Years of pent up desire released over the course of the night. 

After you were both thoroughly spent, Cate laid on your chest and you drew lazy circles on her back with your fingertips. 

Cate let out a happy hum.

You wanted to make the moment last forever. 

But of course it couldn’t. 

“We should get some sleep,” Cate mumbled, clearly halfway there already.

“We should,” you replied then slowly got out of bed. 

You blew out the candles then slid back into bed. 

You placed a goodnight kiss on Cate’s lips then turned on your side to sleep.

The return voyage to King’s Landing that same morning was met with welcome winds that made quick work of the trip.

Dragons flew overhead as the children followed. You allowed Baela to bring her dragon, moon dancer, with her as a gesture of goodwill. 

Vhagar flew high, her massive frame leaving part of the ship in shadow. The price Aemond paid for such a dragon was high but you were glad his dream of becoming a dragonrider was realized.

Alicent attended to your ailing father dutifully, for which you were eternally grateful. You could not stand to be in his presence for very long. It was painful to see a man once so highly regarded fall to such frailty.

After a hearty supper surrounded by family back at the Red Keep you retired to your chambers for a few cups of wine.

You lounged on the chaise beside the fire, welcoming the warmth it provided.

Much lingered on your mind, most were matters of great importance: the health of the realm, strategies to overcome the opposition to your rule, and how to best balance the expenses of your proposed reforms; but it was the trivial thoughts that weighed on you the most.

Had Alicent kissed you in Driftmark to rid herself of her guilt? Or had she been moved by romantic desire?

“I constantly find you lost in thought.”

You turned to find Alicent striding into the room, readied for bed with a warm smile on her face. 

"The realm will remember you as (y/n), the pensive."

The edges of your mouth quirked upwards at Alicent’s jest.

“Better that than being remembered as the bastard King.”

Alicent’s smile fell. “What troubles you?”

You heaved a heavy sigh and sat upright. “It would be easier to share what does not trouble me.”

Alicent sat down beside you. 

“I’m here, if you wish to unburden yourself.”

You met her gaze. “I would not saddle you with such heavy hindrances, dear wife.”

Then you returned to watching the flames dance in the hearth.

“Let us speak of happier topics then,” Alicent said, hoping to brighten your melancholic disposition. 

“Such as?”

Alicent folded her hands in her lap. “Have you given any more thought to my notion of betrothing Aegon to Helaena?”

You nodded. “Yes, I do not believe it would be wise. Helaena barely tolerates his presence when he is on his best behavior. I cannot imagine she would lead a life of contentment at his side.”

“A life of contentment is not my concern, her safety is,” Alicent countered.

You tore your gaze from the fire and looked to your wife. 

“Helaena is a special girl, full of wit but delicate and needs a husband who understands her and supports her unorthodox interests. I wish to gift her a marriage of love and not of duty,” you admitted.

Alicent softened. “That is a kind sentiment (y/n), but it is not pragmatic given the circumstances.”

“I still wish to try,” you replied and reached over to hold Alicent’s hand. 

She threaded her fingers through yours. “If you have given  such thought to Helaena’s betrothal I imagine you have given Aegon’s the same weight.”

“I have. He shall wed Baela Velaryon when the time is right.”

Alicent’s brow furrowed. “You wish to give the girl who disfigured Aemond the title of future Queen?”

You let out a small laugh. 

“I wish to distance House Velaryon from my uncle. Should he ever challenge my claim, having the might of the Sea Snake’s navy would provide great support.”

Alicent turned your words over in her head then nodded slowly. “That is a clever strategy but how can you be sure they will accept such a union?”

“Rhaenys has never been fond of Daemon, and I would wager Laena’s death squandered what little there was.”

“Let us hope that is the case.”

Alicent looked down at your hand entwined with hers. 

“Do you think Aegon will love Baela?”

You gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I pray that they grow to understand one another while she is our ward, and that it begets affection so that when their betrothal is announced it is joyous news to them both. I want to arrange loving unions that also serve the realm.”

A small frown spread across Alicent’s face. 

“I am sorry you did not receive such consideration regarding our marriage.”

With your free hand you hooked a finger under Alicent’s chin and lifted her gaze to meet yours. 

“I love you as my lady wife, and as my closest ally.”

Alicent smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.

The kiss you shared in Driftmark came into your mind's eye.

You swallowed hard.

You needed the truth. To get it you had to share yours.

So you dropped your hand from Alicent's face and steeled yourself.

“In truth, I have always held you in highest esteem," you began, your voice betraying your nerves, "Even when we were girls and you would volley horrible insults my way all I could think about was how you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen,” you confessed, your mouth drying from sheer nerves of divulging a secret you swore you would take to your grave.

Alicent’s forehead wrinkled in surprise. “(y/n), I…”

You pulled your hand from hers and looked away from her, your face hot with embarrassment.

“I do not expect you to return my affections.” 

You anxiously toyed with your hair, trying not to lose your nerve.

“I am content with the friendship you grant me, Alicent.”

Alicent did not reply. Her silence only amplified your embarrassment. 

So you stood and started for the other side of the room.

But Alicent reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

You looked back at her.

She rose from her seat and approached you.

“How could you hold such affection for me when I was nothing but wicked to you from the moment you arrived at the Keep?”

You shrugged slightly. 

“You were forced to wed and bed my aging father. That felt punishment enough for your torment,” you joked.

Alicent smiled. 

“Your kindness truly knows no bounds."

With her free hand she cupped your face.

"It is your most frustrating attribute.”

You laughed. “Of course compassion vexes Alicent the Terrible.”

Alicent caressed your face with her thumb. She let go of your wrist and brought her other hand up to the other cheek.

The remnants of your laughter died in your throat at the intimacy of the contact. You searched her gaze for answers. 

She let out a shaky breath, not meeting your gaze.

“I have something to confess as well, but I am not as courageous as you are.”

You brought your hands up to cover hers. 

“You can tell me anything.”

Alicent shut her eyes tight. 

“I don’t know if I can bring myself to say the words.”

You furrowed your brow. “Are they truly so awful?”

She shook her head softly. 

“No, but if I speak them I fear I might break.”

You pulled her hands away from your chest and held them in yours.

“Then it is good I am strong and can hold you so that you won’t fall to pieces.”

This made Alicent open her eyes and look at you with a tenderness you had only seen that night in Driftmark. 

“I tormented you endlessly in our youth because you stirred confusing feelings in me that I was terrified of. Feelings I could not name until I saw them in Viserys’ eyes when he looked upon me when I wed him.”

You did not follow. Your brow remained furrowed. 

So Alicent continued. 

“It was desire,” she breathed with relief. “He desired me and I saw in him what I so often felt in your presence but did not bring myself to admit.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “I-”

Alicent shook her head and you stopped talking.

“My fears were further confirmed when you kissed me at our wedding," she continued. "In your kiss I felt the most alive I ever had.”

“Oh Alicent,” you breathed and brought her hands down and laced them her fingers with yours. Then you placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. 

“Loving you flies in the face of everything I was taught to believe in (y/n),” she finished, tears once again staining her rosy cheeks.

You peered up at her. “And yet the Gods saw fit to see us wed,” you countered.

Alicent let out a huff. 

“An act that has only incurred unrelenting trouble.”

You freed a hand from hers and threaded your fingers through her auburn tresses. Her hair was as soft as silk. 

“Perhaps, but it has also brought me what I have always longed for,” you mused.

“And what is that?”

You met her gaze. “A family to love and be loved by.”

Alicent softened. 

“(y/n)..”

“If you wish me to strike what you have confessed from my mind I will do so. I do not want to cause you anguish.”

Alicent shook her head. “That is what you believe I desire?”

You smiled. “I did not believe a world where you returned my affections possible. I do not know how to proceed.”

Alicent brought her hands to frame your face then pulled you closer.

“Just kiss me you idiot.”

You smiled as her lips met yours. 

This time you allowed yourself to be bold. Your hand felt from Alicent’s hair and settled on her hip. The other hand quickly mirrored the action. You brought her hips closer to yours.

Alicent’s hands snaked around your shoulders, leaving no space between you.

You parted Alicent’s lips with your tongue, deepening the kiss. 

Her mouth was hot and her tongue eager to submit to yours. 

Your mind fogged with desire, heat pooled in your stomach.

So you ran the tip of your tongue along her bottom lip and bit on it teasingly as you pulled away from her. 

A soft moan escaped Alicent’s lips at the loss of contact.

Her eyes opened to meet yours, your own desire now evidently reflected in her gaze.

“Tell me what you want from me, Alicent,” you ordered.

Even with the confession of affection you did not want to overstep and void Alicent of her free will.

“I want you to take me and fulfill the most wanton of your fantasies,” she replied breathlessly.

A devilish grin spread across your face. 

“If that is what my Queen desires.”

You led her to the bed and made quick work of her shift and small clothes as you continued to kiss her.

Both you and Alicent had never bedded another woman, so the touches exchanged were clumsy and shy at first but as the room filled with the scent of desire you pawed at one another with ravenous hunger.

Biting, pulling, grinding against one another for much needed friction that relieved the overwhelming throbbing of your sexes, all a part of the heady night you finally consummated your marriage to Alicent.

-

The following morning as you broke fast with your family, as was the custom since you became King, your father regarded you curiously. 

It was one of his good days where he was well enough to be wheeled into the dining hall. 

You turned to him. 

“Is everything alright father?”

He hummed and narrowed his eyes. 

Alicent entered the hall and sat to the right of you. She bashfully lowered her gaze as she asked you to pass the pitcher of wine. 

While the both of you had enjoyed your passionate night abed, loving one another was still very new and uncharted territory.

Viserys let out an excited laugh that continued even as a caught fit overtook him. 

You furrowed your brows. “Father, perhaps you should retire to your chambers.”

He shook his head and caught his breath. He smiled from ear to ear. 

“I am most pleased with this development in your marriage (y/n).” 

Then he turned to look at Alicent.

“Perhaps you shall bear another child for the King.”

Your eyes widened and you turned to Alicent, whose face had turned crimson red.

She lowered her gaze anew.

Aegon and Baela, who sat across from you, giggled and tried to hide it by covering their mouths with their hands. Aemond’s brows knit together in confusion. 

Helaena, ever in a world of her own making, did not react. She continued to examine a pill bug next to her plate.

Thankfully, Ser Otto intervened. He called out for the guards to take Viserys back to his room as he was not feeling well.

They did as instructed and your father was wheeled out laughing maniacally. 

Aegon cleared his throat and looked at you. 

“Shall I expect a new brother any time soon?” 

Baela burst into a fit of laughter next to him.

“Aegon,” Alicent chided. 

You placed a placating hand on Alicent’s then smiled at Aegon. 

“As if you need another little brother to tease.”

Aegon returned your smile then continued to eat his meal. 

While the air in the hall remained awkward between you, Alicent, and her father, the remainder of the morning was pleasant.

Sadly the rest of the day was less so. 

Larys Strong, your master of whispers, informed the whole of the small council that Prince Daemon had claimed Dragonstone for his own.

Aegon, now your cup bearer, demanded retribution for such an insult. Dragonstone was not Daemon’s to claim. 

You calmed Aegon down, thanked him for his passion, then ordered Larys and Otto to find out if your uncle’s intentions on Dragonstone went beyond taking residency on the island. 

Later that day you made your way to the dragonpit to saddle Vermithor for a much needed ride. It had been months since your last one and you itched for the freedom of the skies. 

Baela helped guide Moondancer back into the dragonpit, the smile on her face fell when she noticed you approach. 

“Your Grace,” she greeted with a bowed head. 

“I see we had the same need for air.”

Baela nodded as she looked up at you. “The winds are perfect for a midday ride.”

“I do hope you come to enjoy your time here, and possibly even grow to care for your cousins,” you said.

“If you wish it so, your Grace.” She replied monotonously. 

You sighed. You understood her hesitation and read plainly the seething anger hidden by her practiced politeness. 

“What would make your time at the Keep more agreeable to you?”

Baela regarded you closely, searching for the trick in your question. Finding none she bit down on her lower lip. 

A look you knew all too well.

“You may speak freely Baela.”

“I wish to learn how to wield a sword, your Grace,” she said and lowered her gaze.

You softened, seeing your younger self in her.

“If Aemond’s scar is an example of your skill you hardly need instruction,” you joked.

Baela smiled sheepishly. 

“I am very sorry about that,” she confessed.

“I know you are,” you told her. “Very well, I will have Aegon begin your training on the morrow.”

Baela’s gaze shot up. “Prince Aegon? Why not the master at arms?”

You laughed. “It will be a good opportunity for you to bond with him. Perhaps you will find the two of you have more in common than you think.”

Baela frowned. 

“If Aegon proves to be a poor tutor you can tell me and I will appoint you a new one,” you added, not wanting to further upset her.

She nodded. “Thank you, your Grace.”

Then she excused herself and you made your way towards your dragon. 

After an exhilarating and much needed ride you returned to find an incensed Alicent pacing the length of your chambers. 

“How could you allow our son’s assailant to learn ways to cause further harm?” Alicent raved as you walked in.

She neared you then stopped. Her face contorted in disgust. 

“You reek of dragon,” she uttered as she took steps away from you. 

“I am pleased to see you as well, my darling wife,” you replied sarcastically as you walked to the seat by the fire and removed your riding boots. 

“Is it true you have allowed Baela Velaryon to train at arms?” Alicent pressed.

You sighed, the serenity gained from your dragon ride quickly disappearing. 

“Yes, she asked and I thought it would be a fine time for her and Aegon to bond.”

Alicent scoffed. “A fine time for her to stab the heir to the Iron Throne in honor of her traitorous father.”

You leveled a tired look at her. “I thought we were past this.”

She read the weariness of your gaze then sat down across from you. 

“I simply do not want to see our children further harmed.”

You reached across and placed your hands in her lap. “I swear to you they will not, at least not by Baela’s hand.”

Alicent sighed then scrunched her face in disgust. “You really should bathe, darling husband.”

You laughed then called for the servants to prepare your bath.

When you broached the subject of training his cousin Aegon firmly refused. 

“She took Aemond’s eye, and aren’t you always lecturing me on familial loyalty? Should I not stand in solidarity with my brother?”

“How curious you choose now of all times to heed my teachings,” you replied, your patience growing thin.

Aegon shrugged. “Well I won’t do it.”

You sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“I am proud that you wish to support your brother, who you regularly torment, but I need you to think about this as my heir and not Aemond’s brother.”

Aegon’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“I plan to wed you to Baela, in due time of course.”

“Wed me to her?” Aegon asked incredulously. 

“Baela is an advantageous match. By marrying her we secure house Velaryon’s support and distance them from Daemon’s cause.”

Aegon took in your words. “Hmm.”

You gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “I have every faith that you will train your cousin to the best of your ability, and try to woo her in doing so.”

Aegon frowned but remained quiet. 

You took that as agreement and left to attend to other matters.

The following day at a gathering of the small council Ser Otto informed you that Daemon had engaged in several conversations with Lord Borros Baratheon about wedding his eldest daughter, Cassandra, to him. 

“Borros Baratheon was also amongst those who disapproved of my crowning,  was he not?”

“He was, your Grace,” Otto replied.

“Wonderful,” you muttered, then stood and declared the session at an end.

You sought refuge from the unrelenting bad news in your favored alcove of the Keep’s gardens. 

The sun just after midday was the right amount of warm as it shone over your face.

You thought long and hard about how to move forward. If Daemon secured the support of house Baratheon you needed to secure an even greater ally. 

And the only one that came to mind was the one you believed would least be inclined to enter into any kind of agreement with you.

Prince Qoren Martell ruled the whole of Dorne and very much disliked the rest of the realm. You vaguely recalled your father attempting to engage Rhaenyra to Prince Qoren’s son. 

Outside of that, you had not had any contact with the ruling family of Dorne.

You consulted with Otto about the likelihood they would be open to friendly talks regarding trade and business. 

Otto told you that it was possible but highly unlikely. 

You reached out to them anyways. You figured the worst Prince Qoren could say was that he was not interested. So you sent a raven with a letter detailing your hope for warmer relations between kingdoms.

Thankfully, Prince Qoren seemed excited about your reign and what that meant for the rest of the realm. 

After many weeks of notes sent by raven you made the journey to Sunspear on dragon back.

Alicent vehemently opposed it, but you reassured her you would be fine and that should the worst come to pass Aegon would take your place on the throne.

She gave you a disappointed stare. "Who would inherit the throne is the least of my concerns (y/n)."

You promised you would return to her as soon as you could, that you would return.

Prince Qoren provided a warm welcome and you experienced all the finest Dorne had to offer. Fruits you had never even heard of, wine that rivaled even the best of the Reach, and women that had no shame about expressing their affection for one another. 

Many approached you with offers of an intimate kind but you politely refused. You were happily married.

You entreated Prince Qoren and explained your ideas surrounding trade that would be mutually beneficial. 

He did not care much for politics, choosing to inquire about the nature of your marriage and the circumstances of your crowning.

You kept your answers short but polite, offering just the right amount of salacious detail to keep him sated. 

Sunspear hosted you for four days. Prince Qoren agreed to a new trade pact and even seemed open to the idea of betrothing his daughter Coryanne to Aemond.

Alicent was so relieved upon your return that she pulled you into your chambers and made love to you before you had the chance to bathe to rid yourself of the stink of dragon. 

She did not care in the least.

Alicent was just glad you returned to her safe and sound.

You did not object to Alicent’s desires because the truth was you ached for her touch every night you spent in Sunspear.

Viserys’ health held out far longer than anyone, including the Grand Maester, believed possible. Which you were tremendously grateful for.

You knew much of the nobility still viewed him as the true King while you merely ruled in his stead. 

Weeks passed with endless duties and little time for pleasures. You were partly thankful to be kept busy because it kept you from obsessing over that night in bed with Alicent.

The following day you were informed Alicent would be sleeping in her bedchambers. She usually did so during the week of her moonblood, or you would ask her to during yours, but it was not the right week for either occasion.

You didn't press, thankful you could avoid her at night too.

During small council sessions you kept conversation with Alicent to a minimum and avoided meeting her gaze.

You felt embarrassment more than anything. You had so openly declared your desires- your need for her, and though it seemed she returned such desire Alicent continued to hide behind propriety and duty. You needed her to be open, to be as vulnerable as you were.

It was the only way you could bed her without feeling guilty afterwards.

But you knew she would never be able to voice such desires.

And you did not know how to broach the topic to move past the awkwardness of it all.

So you continued to avoid her.

When you couldn't, you kept others around you to avoid being alone with Alicent.

One such occasion, you were in the Keep's library with Helaena- reading what was known about a particular type of beetle she had become enamored by.

After exhausting every shelf in the library and finding very little on aforementioned beetle Helaena excused herself to her quarters.

As she moved towards the door Alicent entered, she wished to speak with you.

Panic rose inside you and you hastily pulled Helaena back towards you.

"I'm afraid it will have to wait. Helaena wishes for me to aid her in capturing more beetles for her to study," you rambled as you avoided looking directly at Alicent.

Helaena's brows knit together but she did not free herself from your grasp.

She normally loathed being touched by others but allowed you to, sometimes. Helaena could sense something was going on between you and her mother but it was beyond her understanding.

Alicent turned to Helaena. "Surely the servants can carry out such a task, and you need not bother the King with your whims."

Helaena opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by your voice.

"Absolutely not. Helaena is my only daughter, whom I rarely see in comparison to the boys. I should like to spend as much time with her as I can."

Helaena looked up at you, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

You met her gaze and smiled a tight smile.

Alicent sighed. "Your grace can do as she pleases," she finished before turning around and leaving the library.

Your shoulders relaxed after she left and you let go of Helaena.

"I do not require more beetles, father," she informed you.

"One can never have too many beetles," you replied.

Helaena turned your words over in her mind before nodding slightly.

"That is true."

Then you followed her out of the library and towards the gardens where she often found her specimens.

Not too long after word of Lady Laena Velaryon’s death reached the Keep. You instructed Otto to make the preparations for the royal family to attend her funeral.

Aegon and Helaena wished to travel on dragon back. You wished to as well as you had not ridden Vermithor in considerable time, but you could not leave your father and wife unattended. So you sailed with them to Driftmark while the children, with the exception of Aemond who still did not have a dragon, flew above you.

You attended Laena’s funeral because it was what propriety asked of you but you also had ulterior motives for going. Credible rumors had reached your ears that the same lords who opposed you in secret had approached Daemon about rebelling to install him as king. 

Many of the lords of the realm loathed Daemon but it seemed their distaste for you as ruler was greater.

You knew rebellion would not break out while your father still lived so you needed to determine your uncle’s true intentions towards the throne while peace remained.

Communication with your uncle even before your coronation was scarce. You had sent word after your coronation and subsequent developments but all ravens sent to him went unanswered. You worried the measure of affection he had borne you in your youth was squashed with the announcement of your father declaring you not only his heir but abdicating the throne for you to rule.

Still, he was of your blood and you hoped a part of the Daemon who celebrated your claiming of a dragon with a feast on Dragonstone remained.

The funeral traditions of the tides demanded Laena’s casket be delivered to the dominion of the Merling King who would guide her through her final voyage.

You stood amongst family as Ser Vaemon Velaryon delivered a mournful address. 

Your uncle stood beside his daughters, Baela and Rhaena. He did not look at you, opting to gaze at your ailing father instead.

After the funeral everyone returned to the castle to break bread in mourning.

Your cousin Laenor was nowhere to be found. He wept for his sister the entire funeral. You knew, intimately, the immense grief the passing of a sister incurred.

You watched your uncle from across the patio, gauging whether to address him or not. 

Daemon stared out at the sea.

You needed answers so you steeled yourself and approached him. 

He did not turn to greet you as you neared him.

“My deepest condolences uncle,” you said.

Daemon spared you a small glance before returning his gaze to the sea.

“Should I address you as your Grace now, niece?”

His words weren’t cruel but they also weren’t kind. You did not have the energy to play politics.

But as King your desires mattered quite little as it turned out.

“I did not maneuver towards the crown. You must know that,” you replied.

A small scoff escaped his lips. 

“All maneuver towards the crown. Even when one does not know it,” he sneered.

Your stomach sank. In his voice was the contempt you had become so familiar with as it was spoken by the lords of the realm who opposed your rule.

You pressed on.

“Do you?”

Daemon clenched his jaw. He didn’t meet your gaze. "I-"

“Daemon,” a raspy voice called interrupted.

The two of you turned to see your father approach, at a snail’s pace but making his way to the both of you nonetheless. 

Daemon softened at the sight of his sickly brother. He went to Viserys’ side and helped prop him upright as they spoke to one another, your presence entirely forgotten.

A gentle hand on your arm turned your gaze away from your father and uncle.

It was Alicent. She gave you an empathetic smile.

“I think Aegon and Aemond should pay their respects to Lady Laena’s daughters, don’t you agree?”

You lowered your gaze and nodded. 

“That would be wise.”

Then you instructed your sons to offer whatever comfort they could to their cousins. Aemond nodded and pulled Aegon towards the grieving girls across the courtyard. Aegon downed the wine in his goblet then snatched another from a passing servant.

You sighed. Though he had made strides in his attitude Aegon's love for drink continued.

Alicent gave your arm a squeeze. “I’ll make sure he behaves,” she said then went after the boys.

Lord Coryls Velaryon greeted you, thanked you for attending his daughter’s funeral, then congratulated you on your crowning. 

“A woman King is nothing short of a miracle of the Gods,” he joked.

You pulled your lips into a tight smile. "I doubt even they foresaw my father's wishes."

Conversation with the lord of the tides centered around trade and other practical matters. You endured the conversation though your eyes threatened to give way to their desire for sleep.

When you could no longer stand another moment of Lord Corlys' extensive recounting of the latest ship being built, including their minute specifications, you interrupted him and excused yourself to bed.

"Once again my sincerest condolences lord Coryls," you told him before you walked off towards your provided quarters in the castle.

Later that very night a guard roused you from deep slumber. There had been an accident with Aemond.

You rushed out of bed and pulled a robe a servant handed to you around your shoulders.

As you entered the great hall you noticed Alicent was already at the boy’s side while a maester attended to his wound. 

Ser Harrold and Criston stood amongst the others that had been gathered, most of them minor members of the Sea Snake’s court and servants.

Once at Aemond’s side you took measure of his injury. It was an unsightly cut across his left eye.

“What happened?”

Ser Harrold explained that he had found Aemond in the caverns of the Keep amongst his cousins. It seemed there had been a fight between Aemond and the girls.

“How could you allow such a thing to happen?” You snapped.

Ser Harrold bowed his head. “The Prince was supposed to be abed your Grace.”

You stepped away from Aemond and turned towards your guards. 

“Who had the watch?”

“I did, you Grace,” Ser Criston Cole spoke and stepped forward.

You swallowed the vitriol that came into your mind. You knew Alicent had a soft spot for the knight.

“Will it heal, maester?”

Alicent’s voice pulled your attention back towards Aemond.

Grand Maester Mellos finished sewing the cut on Aemond’s eye.

“The flesh will heal, but the eye is lost your Grace.”

Alicent choked down a sob then stood and turned to Aegon. 

“Where were you?” She demanded.

Aegon’s eyes widened in fear. “Me?”

She struck him with the palm of her hand, her face contorted in anger and frustration. 

Aegon clutched his stinging cheek. “What was that for?” He asked incredulously.

Alicent scoffed. “That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool,” she spat venomously. 

You moved towards them but stopped when you heard thundering footsteps come down the staircase across the hall.

Lord Coryls descended, your aunt Princess Rhaenys behind him.

“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded.

Baela and Rhaena ran into their grandmother’s arms. 

Lord Coryls looked to you for answers. 

Daemon marched into the room through the main doors of the hall. He looked at his daughters, covered in sand and blood, then back to you with his brow furrowed. 

“They attacked me,” Aemond shouted.

Rhaena stepped forward. “He attacked Baela!”

Aemond turned in his seat to face his cousins. “Because she attacked me.”

“You stole my mother’s dragon,” Baela argued.

As the shouts from the children continued you let out a deep irritated sigh.

When their voices continued to escalate you cleared your throat. 

“Enough,” you called out to silence the room. 

The children quieted and the attention returned to you. 

“Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened,” you said as you approached him anew.

He looked up at you, tears welling in his good eye. 

Alicent furrowed her brow. “What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed. His daughter is responsible,” she said and turned her gaze towards Daemon.

Daemon did not reply, he leveled an irritated look at Alicent.

“It was a regrettable accident,” Rhaenys replied as she placed a protective hand in front of Baela.

Alicent scoffed. “Accident?”

Then she stepped closer to you. 

“Lady Baela had on her person a blade, for what other purpose but to wound Aemond?”

Alicent gripped your arm. 

“Or worse, to kill our son.”

You swallowed hard. 

Though their heads were bowed you could feel the judgement from the others around you. Lord Coryls watched you closely.

“It seems as though it was my daughters who were attacked and forced to defend themselves by any means necessary against an unruly Prince,” Daemon countered as he stepped out of the shadows. 

Aemond stood from his seat and faced Daemon. “They called the King an abomination.” Then he turned to you, indignant and furious. “I could not let them say that about you, father.”

“That is the highest of treasons. The girls must be sharply questioned,” Alicent interjected.

Gasps and murmurs spread across the hall. 

Lord Coryls sighed and hung his head. 

Dread overcame you. You did not wish to punish a young girl for repeating what was no doubt a common belief amongst many of the realm. Nor did you desire to punish Aemond for fighting girls because it was for your honor and the payment of his eye was punishment enough.

But you had to do something. So you swallowed the knot in your throat and turned to Aemond.

“Aemond, your fierce loyalty to your King is appreciated.” 

Aemond stood tall and nodded. 

“But fighting girls is dishonorable as a man of good breeding,” you admonished. 

Aemond’s face fell, he hung his head. Alicent furrowed her brow beside you.

You turned to Princess Rhaenys and your uncle. 

“Baela’s insult, while said in the foolish and impulsive throws of grief due to her mother’s passing, cannot go unpunished.”

Alicent relaxed beside you.

Rhaenys stepped in front of Baela, shielding her as you stepped towards them. 

You held up a hand. “At ease Princess. I will not harm the young girl.”

Rhaenys’ posture eased but she remained defensive.

You turned towards Daemon. 

“Baela will return to King’s Landing with me as my ward and Rhaena will remain in Driftmark under the guidance and care of her grandmother in hopes that both girls will learn proper manners.”

Daemon’s jaw tightened but he did not argue.

Rhaenys stepped back and turned to Baela.

“Apologize for your insolence and thank the King for his mercy,” she instructed.

Baela looked up at you, fear plain as day, with a quivering lip.

“I’m sorry your Grace,” she said then lowered her gaze.

You nodded then turned towards the doors that led to your chambers.

“Make your apologies and show good will to one another,” you ordered, exhausted of having to field one calamity after the other, as you walked towards the door.

Alicent called out behind you. “That is insufficient.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. 

“Aemond has been damaged permanently, my King,” Alicent orated, her anger building. “Apologies and good will cannot make him whole.”

You turned to face your wife. 

“I cannot restore his eye, Alicent.”

Alicent held your gaze, aggrieved and unrelenting. “No, because it has been taken.”

You did not want to quarrel with her, much less with a crowd present. 

“What would you have me do?”

“There is a debt to be paid,” she explained then turned towards the other side of the room. “I shall have an eye from the girl in return.”

Shock spread across the room. 

“Alicent,” you cautioned. “She’s but a child.”

She could not be serious, could she?

“He is your son (y/n)," Alicent beseeched with angry tears welling in her eyes.

Your heart ached. You once promised Alicent you would be a united front, allies against all who opposed your family.

But Baela was not much older than Aemond and younger still than Aegon. 

You stepped closer. “We should not let our tempers guide our judgement.” 

Alicent scoffed and shook her head. 

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will.”

Then she turned to Ser Criston, her sworn shield. 

“Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Baela Velaryon,” she commanded. 

Ser Criston’s brows knit together.

Baela let out a yelp as she hid behind her grandmother and buried her face in her skirts, terrified. 

Alicent turned to Rhaenys and Corlys. “She can choose which eye to keep, a privilege she did not grant my son.”

Rhaenys faced you. “Your Grace.”

You pointed a finger at Criston. "Stay your hand," you ordered as you approached your wife.

You had to get Alicent to see reason.

“No, you are sworn to me!” Alicent shouted, then moved closer to Ser Criston.

You watched with baited breath, control slipping through your fingers like sand.

Ser Criston did not move. It seemed even Alicent’s attack dog knew when to disobey orders. He bowed his head as he spoke. “As your protector, my Queen.”

Hatred burned in Alicent’s gaze as she turned away from Ser Criston. 

You took a tentative step towards her.

“The matter is finished. Let us all to bed,” you urged.

Alicent stilled, she looked at Baela across the room, then back at you. You had never seen her so eerily bereft of emotion. It unsettled you.

Some of the gathered crowd began to disperse, and you went to do the same but stopped when you caught Alicent stealing a dagger from a nearby guard out of the corner of your eye.

She marched towards the opposite side of the room.

You rushed to put yourself between her and Baela. “Alicent,” you called out.

Ser Harrold ordered the other guards to keep everyone else away. 

Out of the corner of your eye you also saw Daemon move closer.

But Ser Criston stepped in front of him, not allowing him to get any closer.

You attempted to grasp the dagger from Alicent’s hand but failed as she struggled against you. You did not want to use the entirety of your strength against your wife so you held her at arm's length. You hoped she would see reason if you could get through to her.

“You have gone too far.”

Alicent’s brows knit together as she pushed against you with all her might. “I? What have I done but what was expected of me?”

You softened your gaze in pity.

She continued. “Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law even as it warps into something entirely foreign to me.”

Her anger strengthening her Alicent pushed harder against you. You stepped backwards and felt the tip of the dagger near your face as you turned back towards Alicent. 

Alicent was relentless. “Am only I bound to duty? To sacrifice?”

“Release the blade, Alicent,” Ser Otto called from behind her.

But Alicent would not see reason. 

“They have taken our son’s eye, and anything short of proper retribution is a betrayal of your vows to me,” she spat as her lips curled in furious sneer. 

You furrowed your brow, taking umbrage at her accusation of disloyalty.

“I vowed to love you.”

Tears fell from Alicent’s eyes. “You vowed to protect me, to protect our family.”

“A girl of merely ten is not a threat worthy of the King ordering her disfigurement,” you argued, incensed by Alicent’s maddening determination that you did not understand.

 The chagrined look that bloomed across Alicent’s features threatened to weaken your resolve. 

You felt the cold sting of steel against your skin as Alicent pushed against you for a final time. 

It happened so suddenly you did not register you had been cut.

Alicent’s chest heaved as she recovered from her struggle against you. Her eyes drifted down to your hand as blood flowed from the offending gash.

The dagger fell from Alicent’s hand and clattered onto the stone floor in a thud that echoed throughout the silent hall.

You looked down at the crimson blood that began to pool by your foot. 

“Do not mourn me mother,” Aemond spoke as the others looked on in disbelief. “It was a fair exchange.”

Your gaze shot up to watch as he approached Alicent.

“I lost an eye but I’ve gained a dragon,” he finished and wrapped his arms around Alicent.

You clenched your hand into a fist then turned to address those gathered. 

“This proceeding is finished.”

Ser Harrold met your gaze and nodded. He ordered the kingsguard to clear the hall.

Then you turned around to face Princess Rhaenys, and the still trembling girl hidden behind her.

“My decree to bring Baela with me to King’s Landing stands.”

Rhaenys nodded then led both girls out of the room, her husband followed close behind her.

Daemon did not move even as most of the crowd had left. His hand went to rest on the hilt of his sword. 

You met his gaze. “Do we have some matter to discuss further?”

“Viserys, a true King, would have had this matter settled much quicker,” he postulated with a derisive smirk on his face.

Your lips curled in a tight smile. 

“If there is something you wish to say to me uncle, the moment is now,” you dared.

Daemon’s fingers tapped against the steel it rested on. 

“I’ve never been one for words, your grace,” he sneered.

You leveled an unflinching stare at him and let out an amused huff. “If it’s a fight you crave you need only ask.”

Daemon let out an exaggerated sigh then dropped his hand from his sword. “There doesn’t seem to be a challenge worthy of me at present.” 

Grand maester Mellos cleared his throat as he stepped towards you. 

“Your Grace, I must attend to your injury at once.”

“Yes, we mustn't lose her Grace so soon after her crowning,” Daemon mocked as he turned on his heels and walked out.

Your jaw tightened, seething anger at Daemon’s insolence contained by your present incapacity. 

“Very well,” you replied and followed the maester to your chambers.

You did not spare Alicent a glance as you left. 

-

You stared at the flames of the hearth’s roaring fire, lost in thought. You wondered if you did the right thing by not giving Baela a more severe punishment. 

Would the realm think you weak? Would taking Baela’s eye and letting the realm think you as cruel as Maegor be any better?

Mellos sewed the gash closed with practiced precision. 

“It was a clean cut your Grace,” he said as he finished. 

You looked down at the raised skin that puckered at the ends of where it had been sewn. 

“Thank you Mellos,” you said then brought your gaze up. 

Alicent hovered by the door, picking at the beds of her nails. You weren’t sure if she had been there the whole time and you simply hadn’t noticed.

Mellos followed your gaze then excused himself. 

You nodded in agreement then moved to the seat closest to the fire. 

With Mellos gone Alicent stepped inside your chambers and shut the heavy door behind her.

She approached, knelt at your feet, and lowered her gaze. “I’ve injured the King, an offense of the highest treason. I won’t beg for mercy and will accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate, including the forfeiting of my own life.”

Your forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What in the seven hells are you talking about?”

“I deserve to be punished,” Alicent replied through soft sobs.

“Oh Alicent,” you breathed wearily. Then you leaned forward and helped her to her feet.

She stood but kept her eyes fixed on the ground.

“There isn’t a world in which I would ever punish you,” you professed, the very notion of hurting Alicent caused you tremendous anguish.

Alicent met your gaze. “But I hurt you.”

"It takes more than a minor cut to wound me Alicent,” you reassured.

Her brows knit together. “Any action against the King should be punished severely.”

You softened and stood. “Aemond was grievously wounded. How could I begrudge the actions of a distressed mother?” 

Then you reached out and caressed Alicent’s cheek with your good hand.

Tears pooled in Alicent’s warm brown eyes. 

“I am not worthy of such goodwill,” she asserted, her voice thick with self-loathing.

With the tips of your fingers you wiped away the tears that fell from your wife’s eyes. 

“You are worthy of everything good and pure in this world, and the next,” you whispered.

You regarded her tenderly, realizing just how much you had missed being in her company through the weeks you had avoided her.

Her presence brought you a comfort you did not understand. Perhaps it was because she knew you before, when you were a dirt covered bastard who hid in the Keep's garden.

Or perhaps the truth was simpler. You loved her.

Alicent searched your face for something, what you did not know, then closed the distance between you and placed a fierce kiss on your lips.

Though a surprise, the kiss was not unwelcome. You wrapped your arms around Alicent’s waist and pulled her deeper into your embrace.

Your wife’s desperate need for absolution, that you had already freely given but she did not feel deserved,  plainly declared through her bruising, fervid, kiss that pulled the air straight from your lungs.

When the briny taste of tears seeped into your mouth you pulled away to regard Alicent, your brow deeply furrowed in concern.

Alicent opened her eyes and met your gaze apologetically as fresh tears streamed down her face.

You brought a hand up to dab at them with the cuff of your robe.

“I wanted so badly to give you the retribution you desired, but I needed to remain sensible,” you explained as you wiped the teardrops from her face. “The punishment had to be prudent lest I give the ceaseless rumors of rebellion cause by making an example of a child.”

Alicent nodded softly. 

“There was no decision on the matter that did not leave someone without remaining discontent, I see that now. Your judgement was practical.”

Your hand fell from Alicent’s face. You averted your gaze anxiously.

“Do you truly believe I have not honored my martial vows?”

A guilty grimace flashed on the Queen’s face before she breathed an unsteady sigh. 

“My words were cruel, and untrue.”

Tears of your own pricked at the corners of your eyes, you blinked them away before returning your gaze up to meet Alicent’s.

Her eyes softened. “I know you would protect our family if any of our lives were truly in question.”

“Vermithor’s fire would have left the entirety of Driftmark in ashes if the quarrel had ended Aemond’s life,” you affirmed.

Alicent brought her forehead against your own. You leaned into the warmth of the touch.

Casey POV

You post bail, well your wife pays your bail and you are able to await trial in the comfort of your massive brownstone

Casey watches as the SVU team goes over all the evidence and helps Alex put the case together. 

She knows it won’t be enough

They found the apartment you had first taken her to but there was nothing there. It was wiped clean.

You left no prints on the cameras and no other trace anywhere

So Olivia suggests a hail mary sting operation to get you to confess

She suggests Casey get you talk

Casey wants to protest but she knows it’s the best course of action

She is your weakness. Everyone knows it.

So they come up with the plan.

The next day Casey invites you to the Indian restaurant next to her place. She tells you to come alone because she wants to make up.

You show up and apologize to Casey. Things were not supposed to turn out this way.

Casey has to swallow the bile that comes up her throat.

She turns the conversation to the observation room, the wall of monitors with cameras feeds from her apartment.

You catch on to what she’s doing, you frown but you aren’t upset. 

Casey deduces you really believed she wanted to patch things up with you.

Were you really that delusional?

Maybe you and your wife had that in common.

And as fucked up as it all was the heartbreak on your face made Casey pity you.

Casey holds your hands, laces your fingers with hers.

You melt at the contact.

Eventually you give in. You give Casey the address to a storage unit with everything in it.

Olivia wastes no time and the team is there within minutes of hearing it from the wire Casey is wearing.

-

Olivia POV

The team is ready to burst open the storage unit.

She approaches as they open it.

It’s empty.

Completely empty save for a jersey in the middle of the room.

Olivia picks it up and sighs.

You’ve tricked them again.

Without the evidence from those computers the case against you was flimsy

Olivia did not want you to walk 

Not after all you had put Casey through

-

Casey POV

That evening Olivia tells Casey what happened at the storage unit. 

She shows Casey the jersey they found.

Casey tells Olivia she thought she had lost that jersey months ago

Olivia figures you stole it from Casey

Casey takes it and realizes it’s been cleaned. She brings it closer to her nose.

It smells like you. The detergent you use, the cologne you like, and your natural scent.

Casey starts to cry. 

Olivia holds her as Casey sinks to the floor and sobs.

-

Your POV

It’s the first day of your trial. You’re sitting next to your lawyer.

You feel Casey’s gaze on you from the gallery.

How the tables have turned.

It excites you though, to know she’s looking at you.

The fact that she’s even present tells you that she still feels something for you

If she was truly horrified and scared of you she wouldn’t get within a hundred yards of you

You just had to be patient and bide your time

At the end of the first day you are filled with confidence you’ll get to walk free

Your lawyer is a total shark and the judge seems not to care for the ADA assigned to the case

You endure your wife’s touch and love and even imagine it’s Casey you’re kissing and holding every night

-

Casey POV

She’s unpacking the last of the boxes in her new home.

She looks around then sinks into her couch.

Casey is so exhausted, so depressed.

Court isn’t going well for the prosecution. Your lawyer is damn good.

And the evidence isn’t compelling

They need those hard drives.

She needs to get through to you.

So the next day during a recess she corners you in the lady’s restroom.

You ask Casey to move from the door. You aren’t supposed to be near her let alone in the bathroom together. She got that restraining order against you didn’t she?

Casey looks you dead in the eye and tells you that if you ever truly loved her you will take the stand.

You reply your lawyer told you not to.

Casey’s eyes water. She begs you to tell the truth. To prove to her that you loved her and that all of what happened were just unfortunate consequences.

She could see you turn her words over in your head. You softened your gaze.

You ask Casey if you take the stand and tell the truth if she’ll take you back.

Casey swallows the knot in her throat. She nods.

You approach her and gently cup her face.

Casey steels herself, she knows if she flinches or moves away you won’t believe her.

You tell Casey you love her more than anything else in the world. You’ll take the stand, tell the truth, and go to prison if it means Casey will take you back.

It sickens Casey that she believes you’re telling the truth. 

Even worse she lets herself lean into your touch.

Your touch was always soft, gentle, and warm. 

When Casey meets your gaze anew she sees tears in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry Casey,” you whisper.

Casey blinks back tears of her own.

Then you close the distance between the two of you and place a tender kiss to Casey’s cheek, just shy of her lips.

Casey gasps.

You step around her and walk out of the bathroom. 

Casey goes to the sink and braces herself against it.

She shuts her eyes and chokes down the sobs that threaten to escape.

-

Your POV

Your lawyer thinks you’re crazy, and stupid

You tell him he works for you and you are taking the stand

Your wife forbids it

But you no longer care what she wants

Casey is giving you a chance

All you have to do is be worthy of it

If that means rotting in prison you’ll do it

Because you know when you get out Casey will be waiting for you

So you the next day you take the stand

The prosecution wastes no time. They go in hard.

At first you can easily side step the questions, answer just enough but nothing incriminating

You don’t let her spin the narrative

But then you meet Casey’s gaze across the room

You told her you’d tell the truth.

You sigh and stand. 

You turn to the judge and tell him everything.

You’re guilty.

You give them the location of the hard drives.

Gasps and chaos erupts in the courtroom.

You look across the room at Casey.

There’s a sad smile on her lips.

You mouth the words, I love you.

She replies, I know.

Then the bailiff takes you away.

-

Casey POV

She’s back in her apartment. Eating take out with Olivia

Olivia asks why Casey is so sad even though they won. You’re hopefully going to be rotting in prison for the rest of your life.

Casey tells Olivia what happened in the restroom. She tells Olivia that in you’re own sick fucked up way you really did love her.

Olivia says what you did isn’t love.

Casey doesn’t reply, just sips on her beer.

That night as she lays in bed she can’t sleep. She stares at her ceiling.

She wonders why she doesn’t entirely hate you.

She knows she should.

Casey sighs and chalks it up to Stockholm syndrome.

She doesn’t go to your sentencing hearing but Olivia texts her you will indeed be rotting in prison the rest of your life.

She doesn’t go back to work right away. She takes time off to really work through her feelings.

When she goes through her room to do laundry she finds the jersey you stole from her all those months ago.

It still smells like you. 

Casey holds it against her chest. Tears threaten to run down her face.

She goes to see you in prison the next day.

You’re overjoyed to see her.

Casey asks why you picked her? Why you chose her to “love”?

You reply that Casey is special, you told her as much.

Casey asks if what happened to Barba was your doing. They never got enough to tie it to you.

You tell her that you don’t like to get jealous, it turns you into a monster sometimes.

Basically confirming that it was you

Casey clenches her jaw.

Then you tell her that you have never loved anyone the way you love Casey.

Casey scoffs. What about your wife?

You shrug. You thought she was special, that she was your soulmate, but you realized too late she could never be what you needed.

When you saw Casey in the courtroom you knew she was the one.

Casey asks if you’re divorced now, or getting divorced

You reply that you will if Casey wants you to.

Casey shakes her head, she doesn’t even know why she went to see you in the first place.