Rhaenyra and Mysaria talk after the attempt on her life but instead of Mysaria asking to join her court, she just asks that Rhae give her safe passage on the next boat out and I don't know maybe some coin or resources to help make her journey easier or something.

Rhaenyra grants it of course but does mention that she wishes that Mysaria stay a while longer, if only to converse more on what the older woman knows about what happened before she was usurped and how she'd hoped to gain her alliance.

Mysaria is like:

"You have it, Your grace, but I'm afraid I must leave this place. If you have any need for me, find [insert name of person/people and location(s)], they will help you contact me."

Rhaenyra wants to try and convince her to stay,—if only to keep at best a strong asset close and at worse a stronger enemy in check—but doesn't push. In part because she doesn't want to come across as desperate or begging and in part because she doesn't really know if she can fully trust her.

The next few days (or however long it takes for the next boat) Mysaria speaks on her time selling secrets to the Hand and why, to having watched everything burn, being imprisoned and why she's leaving instead of staying.

"I wish to see the Hightowers fall, and they will, by my hand or another. I must regain what I have lost. My people, my girls. Those that served me and died for it. They will have their justice. But I must also protect what remains. Those that serve me still, their safety is paramount to me."

"I could help. You and your people could have the protection of the crown."

"I know and I appreciate your grace, but it was my involvement with the highborn that led to this. I must thread lightly and remain cautious."

"You believe I would harm you? As they did?"

"No more than you believe the same of me."

Mysaria then provides some necessary information on what she knows of both Dragonstone and King's Landing, instructions on how to contact her and then she leaves with the promise of answering when Rhaenyra calls.

Nothing changes much after that. Things still more or less play out the same on Dragonstone and with her small council.

Rhaenyra just starts to really feel the absence of the Lady Mysaria the more time passes. She had enjoyed speaking with her, despite her caution around her. It was nice to not only be heard but to be challenged in a way that didn't feel demeaning or insulting.

She doesn't write. Not yet. Though she itches to and has to use more restraint than she will admit even to herself.

The first time she does, it's impulsive and born of indignant fury and the need to do something.

'What do you know of the movements of Alicent Hightower?'

There's more in the letter to it than that, of course.

She does greet first and a courteous apology for any inconvenience this may cause plus an elaboration on why she's asking, though not too much detail. Though she's not sure her hot emotions don't make it onto the parchment. She's fairly certain the Lady Mysaria will be able to tell.

Part of her hopes so.

For some reason.

She goes through the necessary channels and steps—as instructed—to send the message out.

And spends the next days it takes for it to reach the Lady Mysaria—wait for her to read it, decide what to write in response, go through her channels and steps and then send back—In anticipation and agitation.

One things for sure about this partnership is Rhaenyra will learn patience like she's never had to before. It's good for her impulsiveness, however frustrating.

Finally the response comes.

She almost trips over herself when she receives the letter, Elinda giving her an amused yet confused look as she hands it over.

She handles it with both caution and excitement. Thumb caressing softly over the markings as she worries her lip, nose catching a wisp of a pleasent aroma, eyes gliding oh so careful over the words.

'Killing her would be easier.'

Rhaenyra almost laughs.

Almost.

The Lady Mysaria is cordial and respectful in her response, but Rhaenyra knows the woman enough to know the letter reads as:

'I know I can't stop you from doing something stupid you put your mind to, nor will I try to, I know you hot headed dragons are stubborn. Instead I shall assist you and give you some tips and tricks on how to do stupid safely.'

Rhaenyra drinks in the advice like a thirsty dehydrated man who's been in the hot sands without water for weeks and moves to follow it like scripture.

She sneaks into King's Landing dressed as a woman of the cloth with the determination of a dishonored warrior desperate to prove a point.

Riding the high of finally being able to do something other than sit in her castle brooding and being supported in it regardless of how impulsive the decision and dangerous the situation.

The high crashes suddenly and violently the second Alicent speaks though.

Because of course it does.

Because Alicent is an idiot.

(No hate, I Love our girl failure queen. But watching Rhae look at her like: 'Bitch are you deadass?!' was so funny!)

She returns to Dragonstone having a brief moment wondering if she should have taken the Lady Mysaria's first suggestion instead.

Her son and small counsel scold her and she retreats to sulk at being back at square one.

She sends a letter to the Lady Mysaria with thanks for the assist as well as a brief break down of the events that took place.

This is how their exchange works for the months that follow.

Their letters go from brief and professional questions and responses with small greetings to a little longer and warmer in tone. They go from various details of events and schemes to the musings of the mind, the worries of the world, it's loyalties, and the aches of the heart.

Your Grace slowly becomes My Queen.

Lady Mysaria slowly becomes just Mysaria.

Longing persists as distance keeps.

The gentle script of word to parchment becomes a life raft in the never ending seas of duty. Secret smiles from sender and messenger, knowing and soft.

Then the tides start changing.

Dragons seek out riders, and riders themselves are elevated. New problems arise as solutions are found.

The letters remained steadfast.

Until they stop completely.

The young Prince Jacaerys is dead.

The seas go still.

Not in calm but in waiting. Like the recession of the waters from the shore before the inevitable wave of disaster crashes over land.

While the Queen grieves anew the child that made her a mother, whispers travel to the ear of a worried confident at the silence that suddenly appeared.

They speak of how the Prince went rogue and the castle with him. Confining the Queen to her chambers like a toddler in time out.

How he, with his betrothed, flew out on dragon back to the Gullet.

How a wild dragon with a new rider joined the fray, harming both sides, unrestrained.

How the Prince fell along with his dragon, pierced by bolts, their last breaths taken by the waves.

They speak of the return of the King Consort and how he hovers over the Queen in mourning.

How they prepare to take King's Landing with the assumed help of the Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower, who was apparently present on Dragonstone to seek out the Queen who now is more determined than ever to end this war.

The confident knows she must act fast. As by the time she receives the news, the Iron Throne holds it's rightful ruler who sits in tears and blood.

The Red Keep is cold. Halls dark with shadows and ghosts. Rats run rampant. People starved. Endless problems, one after the other.

And the Queen stalks these halls, tired, heart broken, numb.

And angry.

When she retires to her bed she lays awake. Unable to rest. No sleep comes, only memories.

A knock at her door.

"The Lady Mysaria, your Grace."

And Hallucinations as well it seems.

Oh if only.

The soft creek of the door despite her silence. She turns to either glare or reprimand the foolish person whose whispered steps echo towards her.

She freezes.

Surely she's seeing things again. A phantom of what she wishes, manifesting from a broken and sleep deprived mind.

A dip in the bed and a soft, almost unsure caress upon her tear stained face.

"Unfurl your heavy heart now, my Queen. Come morning, we take on all that dares."

Rhaenyra feels heat spread through her body from what felt like an empty chamber in her chest beat strong and her lung expand like coming up for air after being held underwater for an eternity.

With a surge of power and energy she has not felt in as many weeks, Rhaenyra latches onto Mysaria and clings like she'll disappear at any moment.

Which if her dreams have anything to say about it, she just might.

"You came."

"As promised."

And from then on Mysaria shadows Rhaenyra with a smirk as the Queen gets shit done with the feeling of gay invincibility.

By day Rhaenyra is the strongest most powerful Queen in all the Realms and by night, she's being softly caressed and held as she finally gets the safety to fully mourn all her losses and process her emotions in somewhat healthy environment and compassionate company.

And sure, EVENTUALLY they address their feelings and the epic tension between them but it does take some time what with everything going on.

The whole point is them longing and pining so deliciously for each other after being apart for so long, relearning each other now that there is no distance, communication between them is almost immediate instead of waiting patiently (not really) for days or even weeks for a respond. Seeing each other everyday.

And also the entire Red Keeps confusion of why the White Worm just pulled up to King's Landing like:

"Up and at 'em soldiers! Time to lock in, we got work to do."

And Suddenly the Queen is charging through business with the grace and elegance of Syrax. Loud and endearing.