Work Text:
Rhaenyra breathed out deeply, tiredly, as she approached her chambers.
Seasmoke had a new rider, a Velaryon by blood, her Hand’s own son, and the half-brother of Seasmoke’s only previous rider, her once husband, Laenor. All things to be grateful for, considering her initial fear that the mysterious rider was affiliated with the Greens. However, she was willing to admit, at least to herself, that as she had ridden out on Syrax, there had been a part of her that was hoping Laenor had returned, drawn back to Westeros, perhaps by the news of his mother’s death.
Laenor returning would surely have lifted Lord Corlys’s mood, and for her, it would have meant the return of not only a friend and partner, but also a battle-tested dragonrider whom she could trust and rely upon.
She had not realized how much hope she had allowed to blossom in her chest as she and Syrax flew towards the beach where Seasmoke had landed, until Syrax set down on the beach and Rhaenyra was able to get a good look at the man standing beside Seasmoke. There was some relief upon seeing the rider was one of the smallfolk and not a knight or lord who had sided with the Greens, but it was overshadowed in that moment by her confusion over the development, and her disappointment that it was not her once-husband she stood face to face with.
The revelation felt like a blow to Rhaenyra, and compounded the grief and regret she had been suffering with after the death of Ser Steffon. And her emotional upheaval was only added to when she’d returned to Dragonstone and had no choice but to speak privately with Lord Corlys, not only about the rider’s identity and relationship to Corlys, but also needing to discuss Addam’s demand for himself and his brother to be legitimized before he would pledge himself and Seasmoke to her cause.
The conversation had not been easy, comfortable, or brief, and Rhaenyra longed for the end of the day, a glass of wine, and sleep, if it would have her.
“My queen.”
Rhaenyra looked up at the sound of the greeting, recognizing Mysaria’s voice before her eyes caught sight of the woman standing by the door to her chamber, her voice and pose demure, though the slight furrow in her brow and the searching look in her enchantingly dark eyes revealed her concern over Rhaenyra’s well-being.
“Lady Mysaria,” Rhaenyra breathed out, a smile touching her lips at the sight of the other woman before a movement in her periphery reminded her that they were not alone, and she forced herself to stand up straighter and school her expression.
“Please,” Rhaenyra continued, extending her arm so that her fingers were able to lightly brush against Mysaria’s, “join me,” she continued, turning her head to look into her chambers as Ser Lorent finished pushing open the door. “There is much to discuss,” Rhaenyra stated before turning and striding into the room, quite dashingly , Mysaria’s thought as she followed Rhaenyra, her eyes affixed admiringly on her queen.
“That is all, Ser Lorent,” Rhaenyra said, turning towards the door once more, smiling kindly at the knight who then bowed, murmured ‘your grace’, and exited the room, closing the door behind him.
The room was silent for a moment, save for the crackling of the logs in the fireplace, and then Mysaria began to approach her, and Rhaenyra felt the heaviness that had so weighed upon her mere minutes ago begin to ebb and fade in Mysaria’s presence.
“Your Grace,” Mysaria breathed out, her hand lifting to touch a smudge of soot on Rhaenyra’s cheek.
“Let me guess,” Rhaenyra began softly, angling her head into the warmth of Mysaria’s touch. “I am filthy, and stink of dragon,” she continued ruefully, remembering the complaints Alicent used to make after Rhaenyra returned from riding Syrax in their girlhood.
“On the contrary, my queen,” Mysaria breathed softly as the queen reached for her, placing her hands on her hips. “It is quite fetching, I think,” she continued, her heart beating faster as a blush rose to tint Rhaenyra’s cheeks. “As is,” she breathed out, brushing her lips lightly against Rhaenyra’s soft cheek, “the scent of smoke and sea upon my queen’s skin,” she whispered, the smoky smell of dragon and solidity of Rhaenyra’s body pressed against her own, soothing the worry that had been sitting in her stomach like a stone since she had heard that Rhaenyra had ridden out on Syrax.
Unconsciously, Mysaria wrapped her arms around Rhaenyra, holding her tightly, the strength of the embrace reminding Rhaenyra of the worry she had seen in Mysaria’s eyes early.
Eventually, Rhaenyra pulled back and her hands lifted to cradle Mysaria’s face. “I am unharmed,” Rhaenyra said softly, her thumb caressing Mysaria’s cheek. “Restless as I have been, I have not lost hold of my senses. The risk was minimal.”
“Minim…” Mysaria began incredulously, before remembering that she was speaking to a queen, a dragon queen no less, and falling silent for a moment before whispering, “As you say, your grace.”
“You may speak freely, when we are alone together,” Rhaenyra said in response, taking Mysaria’s hand gently in her own. “I value your words.” A small self-deprecating smile then tugged up the corner of her lips as she acknowledged, “Minimal was probably…” Mysaria arched a dark eyebrow at her, and Rhaenyra laughed, “Was assuredly an understatement,” she continued, meeting Mysaria’s eyes. “But I was confident that I had the advantage, and pressed no more than I had to.”
Mysaria nodded, holding Rhaenyra’s eyes for a moment before leaning forward to brush her lips against the blonde’s, finding it hard to resist the temptation now that she knew the taste of Rhaenyra’s lips.
“I went up to the battlements to watch you fly,” Mysaria whispered against Rhaenyra’s lips, her eyes lifting to intimately meet Rhaenyra’s. “Your grace was very dashing.”
Rhaenyra huffed incredulously against Mysaria’s lips at the description, subconsciously shaking her head.
“You doubt me?” Mysaria asked lightly, pulling back so that she could see the whole of Rhaenyra’s face.
“I think, perhaps, that your affection paints me in false glory,” Rhaenyra replied, diplomatically.
“My queen,” Mysaria repeated firmly, “was very dashing,” she stated, before leaning forward to brush a featherlight kiss against Rhaenyra’s lips. “Soaring,” she whispered, kissing her again, “Fearsome and windswept,” she purred, “a dragon queen in full…”
If Mysaria was going to say more, the words were forever lost as Rhaenyra’s strong hands took hold of Mysaria’s face and brought their lips together, kissing Mysaria fiercely, moaning into the other woman’s mouth when her hand gripped at Rhaenyra’s corset, pressing Rhaenyra against her as they kissed.
Many minutes later, Rhaenyra pulled back, panting slightly as her glassy eyes roved over Mysaria’s face longingly.
“Stay,” Rhaenyra said, the word coming out before she could stop herself. “I mean, would you?” she continued as her mind began to clear and she realized that what she had previously said could have been taken as a command, rather than the hopeful request she had intended to voice. “That is to say, to inquire, whether, perhaps, you may…” Rhaenyra trailed off, her gaze shifting to the side as she took a deep, calming breath, trying to ease her nerves.
“I’ve begun poorly,” Rhaenyra breathed out a moment later, a small self-deprecating smile tugging up her lips as she met Mysaria’s gaze once more. “I shall endeavour to do better this time, but first it is important for me to convey to you that I long for your company above all else,” Rhaenyra began anew, gaining confidence as she spoke. “If you should choose to honour me with your company this night, or any other, I will gratefully accept whatever you are willing, or able, to share with me. I would never…”
Rhaenyra’s assurances were interrupted by Mysaria drawing her into a kiss.
“I know,” Mysaria breathed out against Rhaenyra’s lips, pulling back slightly to meet her eyes. “I have trusted you with my freedom, with my life, and my faith. And I now choose to trust you with this,” she pronounced, drawing Rhaenyra’s hand up to her lips to press a gentle kiss to it. “I have never ached for the touch of another the way I ache for you,” she continued, holding Rhaenyra’s gaze intensely. “I yearn for the taste of you upon my tongue.”
Rhaenyra breathed in and out shallowly for a few seconds, and then gave into the fire Mysaria’s words and closeness had lit within her, surging forward and kissing Mysaria with a desperate passion that Mysaria met and compounded as her hands roamed across Rhaenyra’s body.
Mysaria’s hands ran down Rhaenyra’s back, over her hips, and then finally grasped her queen’s bottom, squeezing it roughly when Rhaenyra moaned into her mouth, her own hands grasping Mysaria’s dress and beginning to tug it up.
“..th…or…”
Rhaenyra’s lips moved to Mysaria’s neck, kissing, nipping, nuzzling into her as her hands slipped beneath Mysaria’s dress and begun to trail up shapely thighs, hungry for the sensation of Mysaria's warm, soft skin against her fingertips.
“...e…do…r…”
Rhaenyra inhaled, breathing Mysaria in as…
“Your grace,” Mysaria stated firmly, taking hold of Rhaenyra’s face and removing it from where Rhaenyra had been kissing her.
Rhaenyra blinked at her in confusion for a moment, but when her mind began to clear and she realized where her hands were, the adorably dazed expression that had been on her face transformed into one of horror and regret, and she pulled away from Mysaria.
“I’m so sorry…I should not have presumed…especially after I assured you that…I…” Words that she was barely aware of falling from her lips as her eyes fixed upon the ground, the deluge stopping only when Mysaria moved over to her and took Rhaenyra’s hands in her own.
“You did not presume, my queen,” Mysaria assured her, “I asked you to touch me, and want you to touch me still.”
Rhaenyra’s body relaxed slightly, tension easing from her muscles at Mysaria’s words, though the look on her face conveyed that she was still confused as to what was happening.
“I thought it prudent to secure the door while we are still clothed,” Mysaria offered by way of explanation, a look of understanding blossoming in Rhaenyra’s eyes as she remembered Ser Lorent interrupting them earlier in these very chambers.
“Yes,” Rhaenyra agreed, nodding. “I will be swift,” she pronounced before turning and making her way towards the door to secure the barricade bolt, grateful that Mysaria had the presence of mind to suggest it.
When Rhaenyra turned around to make her way back over to Mysaria, she was halted in her tracks, her mouth falling open in surprise for a moment, before she closed it and she swallowed deeply as her eyes feasted upon the sight of Mysaria standing nude at the foot of her bed.
Mysaria held her hand out in Rhaenyra’s direction.
“Come to me, my queen.”
Rhaenyra obeyed, quickly moving to join Mysaria by her bed, and then drawing Mysaria into her arms.
“You are beautiful,” Rhaenyra whispered into her ear. “So very, very,” she continued, only somewhat sensibly, as her fingers trailed up Mysaria’s back, a powerful wave of desire surging through Rhaenyra a moment later when Mysaria arched into her body, instinctively seeking more contact.
“You are wearing too many clothes,” Mysaria whispered into Rhaenyra’s neck as the blonde teased her fingers up and down her back, her own eager hands thwarted by the laces and leather of Rhaenyra’s clothes.
Rhaenyra laughed lightly, a puff of air warming the side of Mysaria’s face before Rhaenyra leaned back to meet her gaze.
“Help me rectify the situation?” Rhaenyra asked teasingly, though they both knew she did actually need help removing her clothes, the complexity of royal attire making it much more of a bother to get into and out of than the more simple attire Mysaria had chosen to wear upon taking up residence at Dragonstone.
“With pleasure, my queen,” Mysaria replied, eager to lay her eyes upon Rhaenyra as well.
“Rhaenyra,” the queen said softly. “Please. Here, with you, I am a woman, not a crown.”
Mysaria leaned in, kissing Rhaenyra upon hearing the queen’s request, touched by the honour Rhaenyra bestowed upon her.
Though she had intended the kiss to be quick, like many others they had shared that day, it quickly developed into something hungrier, and Mysaria’s hands began to work at undoing the ties and clasps of the clothes that presently kept Rhaenyra’s skin from her.
Eventually, Mysaria was forced to pull away from Rhaenyra's lips, releasing a huff of frustration as she realized that she had done as much as she could with Rhaenyra’s clothes using touch alone, and would, therefore, have to stop kissing Rhaenyra for a brief period of time to allow her eyes to aid in the process of undressing her queen.
“Your clothes are irritating,” Mysaria said, looking Rhaenyra over to determine what area to work on next.
“Really?” Rhaenyra asked, arching a pale eyebrow at Mysaria. “I thought they were dashing,” she continued playfully.
“I said, you were dashing, my…” Mysaria caught herself, “Rhaenyra.”
“Do the clothes not make the lady, as the adage says?” Rhaenyra remarked as Mysaria’s hands began to work undoing laces on her back.
“They do not,” Mysaria said assuredly.
“So you would find me just as fetching if I were riding upon Syrax in a potato sack?”
“Mmm,” Mysaria hummed, placing a kiss against the back of Rhaenyra’s neck. “There is great appeal in the ease and speed with which a potato sack can be removed,” she continued, kissing the same spot again as the blonde laughed.
Mysaria continued her work and was soon able to start pulling off articles of Rhaenyra’s clothing in-between kisses until Rhaenyra was nude before Mysaria’s hungry gaze.
A moment of shyness consumed Rhaenyra as she searched for words regarding how they should proceed, however before she could do more than part her lips to speak, Mysaria sank to her knees before her, her hands moving to caress Rhaenyra’s thighs as she gazed up at her.
Rhaenyra’s breathing quickened at the sight, her violet eyes alight with desire.
Mysaria leaned forward, pressing her lips against the pale flesh of Rhaenyra’s thigh as she held the blonde’s eyes. “I yet yearn for the taste of you upon my tongue,” Mysaria whispered, her breath warming the sensitive skin of Rhaenyra’s thigh, desire making the queen’s eyes flutter shut in pleasure.
“Mysaria,” Rhaenyra choked out, her breathing erratic as her eyes opened to meet Mysaria’s gaze again. “Please.”
Mysaria kissed and nipped at Rhaenyra’s thigh as her hands ran up and down them for a few moments and then she breathed, “Sit for me, Rhaenyra,” her eyes momentarily shifting behind Rhaenyra to the queen’s bed.
Rhaenyra took a step back, sat, and then meeting Mysaria’s eyes, Rhaenyra boldly spread her legs.
Mysaria’s tongue peeked out to wet her lips as she gazed upon her queen’s womanhood, and then she leaned in, pressing a kiss against the pale-flesh of Rhaenyra’s inner-thigh before bracing her hands on Rhaenyra’s legs and using the leverage provided to rise up and meet Rhaenyra’s lips in a heated kiss.
As their kissing gained intensity, Mysaria lifted one of her hands from Rhaenyra’s thighs and moved it to cup her queen’s breast, her thumb instantly beginning to toy with Rhaenyra’s hard nipple, stroking and pinching it until Rhaenyra was whining into her mouth and shifting forward on the bed to seek even more bodily contact with Mysaria.
“Goddess,” Mysaria breathed out, burying her face in the nook of Rhaenyra’s neck as her hands moved to the queen’s hips, encouraging her to rock against her stomach again and groaning into Rhaenyra’s neck and sucking at her hotly as Rhaenyra rubbed herself against her again, and again, until Mysaria ripped her lips away from Rhaenyra’s.
A sound of protest fell from Rhaenyra’s lips, but Mysaria paid it no mind as she pushed Rhaenyra’s thighs further apart and sank back down between them, her eyes meeting Rhaenyra’s briefly before she leaned forward and took her queen into her mouth, moaning against Rhaenyra’s womanhood in pleasure as she finally tasted her queen.
Rhaenyra gasped, moaning words in Valyrian as one of her hands moved between her legs to tangle in Mysaria’s dark tresses, while she placed her other hand on the mattress, using it to brace herself, so that she could better press herself into Mysaria’s mouth, already desperate, dripping, and on the edge of orgasm.
Mysaria’s hand sought out Rhaenyra’s on the mattress as her lips wrapped around her queen’s sensitive button and sucked, her hand squeezing Rhaenyra’s tenderly as Rhaenyra gasped and bucked into her mouth.
“Mysaria,” Rhaenyra panted, repeating the brunette’s name breathily again and again as her pleasure mounted, climbing ever higher and higher, until…
Mysaria groaned into Rhaenyra’s sex as the queen’s legs closed around her head, holding Mysaria firmly against her as the queen’s body was wracked with pleasure. It was a pleasure Mysaria intended to extend for as long as possible, allowing her mouth to continue loving Rhaenyra through her orgasm and then into and through another, until finally Rhaenyra’s limbs went slack, except for the occasional twitch as aftershocks the ran through her body.
Mysaria kissed her way up Rhaenyra’s torso as the blonde struggled to catch her breath, so exhausted by her orgasms that she had simply fallen back against the mattress when her arm could no longer support her weight, leaving her lying awkwardly with her legs still hanging over the edge of the bed.
“We have to move,” Mysaria related, smiling as Rhaenyra’s eyebrows scrunched together in displeasure at the thought, and she shook her head. “If you stay like this for much longer, your back will pain you tomorrow.”
“I cannot,” Rhaenyra huffed, her breathing still unsteady though the aftershocks had finally stopped. “You but lay eyes upon the results of your own work."
“Yes,” Mysaria acknowledged, looking very pleased with herself as she gazed down at Rhaenyra. “In that case, I hope that your grace will not take offense to me seeing to my own pleasure,” she continued before rising to her feet and walking over to the side of Rhaenyra’s bed and then climbing onto it.
Rhaenyra managed to gather the strength to turn onto her stomach, and moved a little higher on the mattress so that she could more comfortably observe Mysaria’s movements.
Her eyes were glued to Mysaria as the brunette’s hands began to languidly caress her own body, trailing down her neck, over her stomach and thighs, her movements drawing Rhaenyra’s attention to each tantalizing area of her body. However, when Mysaria began to toy with her own nipple, Rhaenyra could remain idle no longer and hurriedly climbed fully onto her bed, crawling towards Mysaria so that she could replace Mysaria’s teasing fingers with the warmth of her mouth.
“I thought you could not,” Mysaria husked, breathlessly bratty, even as she tangled her fingers in Rhaenyra’s hair, encouraging the queen to stay where she was.
“I have sufficiently recovered,” Rhaenyra murmured, before biting playfully at Mysaria’s nipple, earning an intoxicating gasp from the other woman. “How may I best please you?” Rhaenyra asked, casting her eyes up towards Mysaria as the other’s dusky nipple slipped from between her lips.
“I think,” Mysaria began, her eyes roving over Rhaenyra’s beautiful, handsome face, “that I would like to try riding my dragon queen,” she purred, her eyes causing Rhaenyra’s jaw to clench and her nostrils to flare with arousal. “If it pleases you.”
“It pleases me,” Rhaenyra husked before taking hold of Mysaria’s hips and using the hold to flip them over so that Mysaria was straddling her.
Rhaenyra found herself sucking in a ragged breath a moment later when she felt the warmth and wetness of Mysaria’s womanhood against her hip, the undeniable sign of arousal driving Rhaenyra half mad with desire.
“I would have you now,” Rhaenyra rasped, drawing her hands up Mysaria’s shapely thighs.
“Yes, you will,” Mysaria agreed silkily, and Rhaenyra smiled at her as the brunette leaned down, kissing her queen as Rhaenyra’s hand made its way between her legs.
Mysaria lay with her head upon Rhaenyra’s chest, an arm and a leg thrown over the queen to press as much of their bodies together as possible as Rhaenyra’s fingers trailed idly up and down her back.
Mysaria could not recall another time in her life when her mind, her body, and her heart had been at such peace, and subconsciously, she snuggled further into Rhaenyra, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to spill from them when Rhaenyra immediately wrapped her arm around her, embracing Mysaria firmly as she dipped her head down to press a kiss into Mysaria’s dark hair.
“My lady,” Rhaenyra began softly a few moments later, concern clear in her voice when what felt like a tear wet her skin.
“There is no cause for concern,” Mysaria murmured reassuringly.
“Your tears suggest otherwise,” Rhaenyra replied, not assured at all as Mysaria blinked and another tear wet Rhaenyra’s skin. “Have I …” Rhaenyra paused, struggling to verbalize the fear growing within her that what they had shared that night had hurt Mysaria in some way; that she had become one more person who had failed Mysaria after she had placed her faith in her.
“No,” Mysaria interrupted, propping herself up on her arm so that she could see Rhaenyra’s face. “You…” a rush of feeling washed over Mysaria and her words caught in her throat for a moment, so she leaned down to softly brush her lips against Rhaenyra’s to assure her. “I was thinking,” Mysaria continued, “that I could not recall a time when I have felt so … cared for,” she said softly.
“Is that not a good thing?” Rhaenyra asked softly, seeing conflict within Mysaria’s gaze.
“I do not know,” Mysaria answered truthfully, “I have never felt it before.”
Rhaenyra’s eyes welled with emotion at the admission, and Mysaria averted her gaze.
Rhaenyra propped herself up as well, so that they would have been eye to eye if Mysaria had been looking at her, and reached for Mysaria’s free hand with her own, lifting it so that she could press a gentle kiss against her palm. “You are cared for, deeply," Rhaenyra whispered as she cradled Mysaria's hand. "And I will do all that I can to prove to you that it is a good thing.”
Moments later, a very unqueenly squeak escaped from Rhaenyra when Mysaria pounced on her, bringing them both back down to the mattress before she leaned down and kissed Rhaenyra with a heat that quickly began to stoke the embers of Rhaenyra’s passion into flames.
“I would know,” Rhaenyra husked, when Mysaria momentarily pulled away from her lips, “what I did to provoke such an exuberant response so that I may knowingly provoke it again and again.”
Mysaria looked down at her, her expression surprisingly serious.
“You were you ,” Mysaria breathed out, blinking against the tears suddenly welling in her eyes. “It is a response you have often provoked in me,” she continued, a soft smile touching her lips. “But it was not until today that I could show it.”
Rhaenyra blinked, her own eyes glimmering faintly as she propped herself up, and then leaned forward, slowly rubbing her cheek against Mysaria’s before joining their lips together in a slow and tender kiss.
“You make me feel dashing,” Rhaenyra whispered against Mysaria’s lips, many moments later. “Powerful,” she breathed, her eyes closing as she kissed Mysaria’s softly once more. “Long have I yearned to reach out to you. To touch your hands, your face, your lips. On so many occasions it has driven me close to madness to resist the urge to embrace you. I did not let myself even dream that you might wish to know me like this too, that you mi...” the rest of her words swallowed by Mysaria’s mouth, kissing her queen deeply as she helped ease her back down onto the mattress.
And for a while they lost themselves in kisses and caresses, until the leg Mysaria had slotted between Rhaenyra’s brushed against the queen’s bud, and Rhaenyra hissed, her hips jerking away from the touch, still too sensitive from their love-making for more that night.
“Apologies,” Mysaria murmured, withdrawing her leg from between Rhaenyra’s.
“None are needed,” Rhaenyra reassured her before settling back down on the mattress and opening her arms to Mysaria.
“My shadows can gather information on Addam of Hull, if it pleases my Queen,” Mysaria said, seeking to distract herself from the arousal still coursing through her, though she knew it would not be long until her body began to quiet once more.
“Lord Corlys has vouched for him, and besides which, Seasmoke has already chosen,” Rhaenyra replied softly, enjoying the warmth of Mysaria’s gaze upon her face. “Addam now rides the largest of our dragons. It is I who must convince him to align himself to me. I cannot begin such a relationship with mistrust,” she continued thoughtfully, though a moment later a soft smile tugged up the corner of her lips, and she added, “But I thank you for the offer,” as she stroked Mysaria’s cheek tenderly.
Mysaria leaned her cheek into the warmth of Rhaenyra’s hand.
“I met Jacaerys earlier. He was quite cross with you,” Mysaria commented lightly as Rhaenyra’s fingers began to gently stroke her skin again.
She had encountered a displeased Jacaerys when she arrived at the spot on the battlements that Rhaenyra favoured. He had tensed upon seeing her, perhaps considering sending her away so that he would worry over his mother in peace, but after a moment he had simply nodded at her and then turned his gaze back to the sea.
She approached and stood next to him after that, as she oft did with his mother, and observed him for a moment, taking in the tense set of his jaw, and noting the way he anxiously clenched and unclenched the hand hanging at his side as he looked out over the water.
Her own worry over Rhaenyra soon drew her eyes to the water instead of Jacaerys, and then up to the sky, searching for the queen.
As she scanned the sky futility, she was surprised when Jacaerys broke the silence that had settled between them by speaking the word, “There,” and pointing up, directing her attention to a particular patch of clouds just in time to see Syrax swoop down below the clouds and into sight.
“She is a skilled rider,” Jacaerys stated when Mysaria’s hand had unconsciously lifted to chest, her fingers clutching at the lapels of her tunic as she watched Rhaenyra. “And Syrax is one of the swiftest dragon’s on record,” he continued, clearly seeking to try and reassure Mysaria despite his own concerns.
He reminded her so much of his mother in that moment, gripping the hilt of his sword, lifting himself to his full height to project confidence as he put forward a brave face for those around him.
Rhaenyra released a soft sound of displeasure and sighed, much like her son had done earlier when thinking about her, and the sound drew Mysaria out of the memory and back to the present, and Rhaenyra’s enchanting gaze.
“As he will no doubt continue to be at times as the rest of this war is waged,” Rhaenyra breathed out tiredly. “However,” she continued, brightening some, “the favourable news I bore after treating with Addam helped return me to his good graces,” she continued, smiling crookedly before adding, “Mostly,” which drew a soft smile to Mysaria’s lips.
It was a beautiful sight that Rhaenyra felt blessed to be witness to, and she was seconds away from leaning in to taste Mysaria’s lips again when a large yawn thwarted her plans.
“You are exhausted,” Mysaria softly noted, watching as Rhaenyra struggled to keep another yawn at bay. “I should…”
“Stay, please,” Rhaenyra interjected before Mysaria could say more. “Now that the barricade lock has been installed, no one can enter until I remove it. Elinda and the Queen’s Guard have grown used to it. The door being locked will not raise any concern. That is, of course, if you even wish to…” Rhaenyra continued, her words trailing off when Mysaria whispered, ‘I do’, and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before settling herself against Rhaenyra’s side once more.
“Goodnight, my lady,” Rhaenyra whispered, unable to stop herself from smiling as she gazed at the canopy above them.
“Goodnight, my queen,” Mysaria replied, pressing a kiss against Rhaenyra’s clavicle before closing her eyes, preparing to give herself over to the vulnerability of sleep, secure in her ability to trust Rhaenyra with this too.
The End