Chapter Text
“I must go to the shore,” Mysaria says as Elinda helps her put her cloak on, “to ensure those messages truly get sent off properly.”
“Alright,” Rhaenyra sighs, “but hurry back…you don’t want your Queen to be lonely, hm?”
Mysaria laughs, “Never.”
Rhaenyra nods to Elinda, who bows before heading out of the room. Mysaria watches as Rhaenyra reaches for her and tugs her hood over her head, smiling softly at her. She leans in to kiss her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders loosely.
“How are you?” Mysaria whispers against her lips. Rhaenyra draws back just enough to rest her forehead against hers. They stay there for a beat, eyes closed.
“Mm,” Rhaenyra replies, soft and factual, “I will never be as happy as I was. Part of me is gone.”
Mysaria feels tears prick at her eyes. She swallows, rattling out a noise of agreement. Rhaenyra’s hands slide down her back to rest on her hips, thumbs stroking comfortingly against the fabric of her dress.
“I see him,” Mysaria sighs sadly, pulling back to glance around the room, “in every corner of this place. Sometimes I swear I can hear his laughter in the halls.”
“What do we do, Mysaria?” Rhaenyra murmurs, “How do we move on? Our son…”
Mysaria hums, cradling Rhaenyra’s face between her hands. She dips in for one more kiss, “We win.”
Rhaenyra huffs, eyes fluttering shut at her touch, “I miss Laenor. I- Daemon is great in war, but Laenor…”
“He would be able to share in our grief,” Mysaria replies softly, “and he would not begrudge us for it. I miss him too. We were happy…all of us. I think about those days a lot.”
“We will be happy again,” Rhaenyra murmurs, “I will make it so, just for you and our children. Even if it will never be quite the same.”
“Mm. I must go, I’ll be back soon, I promise,” Mysaria lets her go, and Rhaenyra’s hands reluctantly fall from her hips as she nods.
“Send Elinda back in, please?” Rhaenyra calls as she leaves, and she throws a kiss behind her in response.
——
She makes her way down to the beach, passing along her handwritten messages to her shipmen. Waiting for the last to climb down from his boat, she scans the other boats with cautious eyes. Her brow furrows, “Ser Erryk?”
The knight turns, bowing slightly and approaching as he replies, “Yes, my lady?”
She looks suspiciously at him, “What are you doing down here?”
“Patrolling the shore once more before I retire for the night,” The man replies, shrugging, “I confess I am restless.”
She hums softly, understanding, but still suspicious for reasons she can’t quite name, “Indeed. We all are.”
He continues on towards the castle and she secures the last message with the shipman before it dawns on her. Erryk has a twin. She gasps, whirling around and taking off in pursuit of him.
Her feet slam into the gravelly sand before she makes it to the rocky stairs. She can see the man growing smaller in the distance, and she realizes he’s spotted her chasing after him and has started running as well. Please, please, please… she feels her chest tighten with panic.
Rhaenyra.
She bursts through the doors of the castle, scanning the halls rapidly. Fuck! No sign of him, so she takes off towards Rhaenyra’s chambers. Rounding a corner she collides with a familiar figure, scrambling back fearfully.
“Lady Mysaria, are you alright?”
“Erryk, you- you’re Erryk, right?!” She demands shakily.
“Yes, what-“
“Your brother is in the castle,” She says, continuing her sprint towards Rhaenyra, Erryk quickly falling in step with her.
“My brother?” He splutters.
“Yes,” She cries, skidding to a stop when she hears a scream from inside the room, “ RHAENYRA!”
“Stay here,” Erryk growls, rushing into the room. She huffs. As if. Rushing in after him, her eyes find her lover crouched in the corner of the room, Elinda hovering behind the desk.
“Elinda!” She shouts, gesturing for the handmaiden as Erryk meets his brother sword-for-sword. The woman sprints to her, and she pushes her out the door, yelling, “Go! Get Ser Lorent!”
Her eyes dart back to Rhaenyra, and she makes a run for it. A scream tears from both women’s mouths as a sword strikes out, Mysaria barely dodging it. She crawls the rest of the way on her knees until she reaches Rhaenyra, grabbing onto her and scanning her for injury.
“How did you-“
“I saw him, on the shore I saw him, I- I was so scared I couldn’t make it fast enough- I-“
“Your Grace, my Lady! With me!!” Ser Lorent shouts from the doorway, rushing in and then looking between the dueling knights, “Which one is Erryk?”
Mysaria looks too, brow furrowing. She shakes her head as they rush over to him, Mysaria pushing Rhaenyra ahead of her to safety.
“We were born together!” One of them- Erryk ?- cries.
“You parted us!” The other responds.
“I still love you, brother,” They watch in horrified silence as one brother stabs the other through the stomach. Mysaria’s hand covers her mouth shakily.
There’s a sickening thud as the body falls to the ground, and the remaining brother takes a few shaky steps towards them. Mysaria is on edge, hand wrapped around Rhaenyra’s arm nervously.
“Your Grace…” He says, brokenly. Mysaria exhales with relief. Erryk. Her relief is replaced with horror as he turns his blade to himself, “Forgive me.”
He pitches forward onto it, and Rhaenyra cries out, “ No!”
She watches in horror as he collapses right beside his brother.
“He is the basest of villains,” Jacaerys hisses, “he sullies the grave of his brother.”
“I cannot fault him for keeping his oath,” Rhaenyra sighs, looking down at the two men in the hole she’d had her knights dig. She watches as dirt rains down over their faces from their shovels.
“And what of those who sent him?” Jace demands. Mysaria reaches for him, but he shrugs her off, frowning.
“Jace-“
“When do we fight?” He cries, “They murdered Luke! And now this! What is our response to be?”
“Jacaerys, please-“ Rhaenyra sighs, and then groans as Jace storms off back towards the castle.
Rhaenys chuckles from where she stands beside them, “Teenagers are hard even without war. I do not envy the two of you.”
“Ah,” Mysaria smiles, “the truth of why you sent Baela back to us is revealed.”
They all laugh for a moment, before Rhaenys glances back at the grave and murmurs, “Otto Hightower would never have allowed this. Hotter blood has prevailed, I think. The young men, eager to shed blood at the slightest provocation-“
“A provocation that amounted to no harm, mind you-“
“Indeed,” Rhaenys soothes, “but they are boys. They wish to punish, to fight. Soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place.”
“That is easy enough,” Rhaenyra scoffs, “they usurped my throne.”
“That is one answer,” Rhaenys replies softly, “or was it when Aemond killed Luke? Or when Luke took Aemond’s eye? Or…when they tried to kill Mysaria and took Laenor in the process? We teeter now at the point where none of it will matter, and the desire to kill and burn takes hold…and reason is forgotten.”
“So what do we do?” Mysaria murmurs.
“That…I wish I knew, my dear,” Rhaenys sighs.
Rhaenyra tells her she wants to send the children away, and at first, she is furious. The idea of their babies being out of reach, of separating Rhaena from her sister, it all feels like a sick joke to her.
But she thinks about the sight of that sword swinging at Rhaenyra. She thinks about how vulnerable their babes are. Tears fall down her cheeks, but she nods her consent nonetheless.
“It’s for their own good, my love,” Rhaenyra pleads, “we are at war, you’ve seen that they’re not safe here.”
“I know,” Mysaria whispers miserably, “but Visenya is so little, and I- she will likely forget us before we see her again.”
Rhaenyra shakes her head, cradling her face between her hands tenderly, “Then we shall remind her that we are her mothers.”
“Does Rhaena know?”
“No,” Rhaenyra sighs, “I sent Ser Lorent to find her.”
“She’s going to be upset,” Mysaria says, “and I do not blame her. This isn’t fair, Rhaenyra, can’t she at least-“
“I’m sending her with four dragon eggs,” Rhaenyra interrupts gently, “I know it is not enough, but I am hoping one will hatch for her.”
“She is just a girl,” Mysaria frowns, “and she just lost her betrothed. To expect her to care for our children-“
“Her siblings-“
“Stop politicking with me!” Mysaria hisses, “I am not a councilman you need to convince, I am your-“
She cuts herself off, groaning in frustration and grabbing fistfuls of her hair as she takes a deep breath. Rhaenyra looks guilty, padding across the room and tugging her hands down gently.
“I’m sorry,” Rhaenyra whispers, “You’re right.”
“No,” Mysaria sighs, tears falling from her cheeks, “I am being unhelpful. I understand, I swear. I just- I do not want them to go.”
“We will bring them home as quickly as we can,” Rhaenyra murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, “by ending this war. I promise, my love.”
“You’re sending me away, aren’t you?” Both of them spin around at the sound of Rhaena’s voice from the doorway. Mysaria’s breath catches in her throat at the look of betrayal in her eyes.
“Rhaena-“
“I don’t want to go.”
“I have to send Joffrey to ward,” Rhaenyra holds out her hand, and Rhaena reluctantly takes it, letting them lead her to the sofa, “with my cousin, Lady Jeyne Arryn. She has pledged an army in return for a dragon, so she will get one. Aegon and Viserys will accompany him as well until a place of greater safety can be found.”
“Tyraxes is but a hatchling,” Rhaena protests, “and Stormcloud…”
“They have sent one assassin in the night,” Rhaenyra pleads, “and their dragons are ever a short flight away. I do not want to risk harm coming to you or the younger babes! You must get them further, to Pentos I think.”
“Where my mother died?”
“We would not force you to go back there,” Mysaria soothes, “only to ensure good men to protect them and make sure they get onto a ship safely. Lady Arryn will assist with this as well.”
“I am so sorry, Rhaena,” Rhaenyra squeezes her hand, “it is not fair to put this upon you, and it breaks my heart to send all of you away. But you have seen what might happen here…I need you to be their older sister, to care for them while we cannot. Guard them as a dragon guards her eggs.”
Rhaena smiles at that, tears in her eyes. Her voice is quiet as she murmurs, “And my sister?”
“I need Baela here,” Rhaenyra sighs.
“Because she has a dragon,” Rhaena sniffles miserably.
“Yes,” Mysaria says honestly, reaching out to hook a finger under Rhaena’s chin, “but so might you.”
“What?”
“I am sending you with all the eggs in our possession currently,” Rhaenyra smiles softly, “should one hatch, it shall be yours.”
“Really?” Rhaena’s eyes are wide, “I thought…after so many unsuccessful efforts…”
“You are a Targaryen,” Rhaenyra replies, “being a dragon rider is in your blood. It is not your fault, and we all believe you will claim a dragon one day. There are those in our line who did not ride until much later in life.”
“I am tired of waiting,” Rhaena huffs, smiling softly, “I…thank you, Your Grace. I cannot say I am thrilled to be leaving, but…”
“I do wish I could make everyone happy,” Rhaenyra says softly, “but war is messy.”
Rhaena nods, bowing and smiling at both of them with tears in her eyes. Mysaria hugs her before she leaves.
They leave the next morning, and tears are shed amongst all. Saying goodbye to each child is excruciating, but saying goodbye to Visenya was the worst. Handing her off to her handmaiden felt like hot iron skewering her chest, and she immediately flees the scene, rushing back to their chambers to fall apart in private.
She hears the door close with a soft click as she’s weeping into the pillows, Rhaenyra padding up to the bed silently. She can hear sniffles coming from her, and she turns her head to meet equally red-rimmed eyes.
Without saying a word, she shifts to lean against the headboard, opening her arms for Rhaenyra to crawl onto the bed and nestle into her embrace. It’s only slightly awkward with their dresses, the fabric pooling beneath them. They lay in silence for a long while, Mysaria resting her cheek against the top of Rhaenyra’s head.
Eventually Rhaenyra starts placing kisses across her collarbone, trailing up her neck and across her jaw before capturing her lips with a soft moan. Pulling away to tug on her dress, she murmurs, “You should take this off.”
Mysaria smiles, rolling her eyes fondly, “It is the middle of the day.”
“So?” Rhaenyra shrugs, “I’m the Queen. And I locked the door.”
“Presumptive much?” Mysaria teases, and now it is Rhaenyra’s turn to roll her eyes.
“I locked it because you were upset and I wanted to make sure no one would interrupt,” She says, crossing her arms as she sits back on her heels, “but now I want to make you feel better in other ways.”
Mysaria grins, reaching for the tie that holds her robe together and undoing it. Rhaenyra’s eyes are heavy with lust as the fabric falls away to reveal her body. She surges forward and kisses her once more before turning and gesturing to the ties of her dress, murmuring, “Little help?”
Mysaria undoes the strings, planting a kiss to her now bare shoulder. They rid themselves of their small clothes and then Rhaenyra presses her back against the pillows with kisses and gentle hands.
By the time Rhaenyra works her thigh in between her legs, she’s already pleading, tugging her close to hold her as they adjust to find the right angle. She moans and arches her back suddenly, and Rhaenyra grins, biting at her neck with a growl, “ There , beautiful?”
Mysaria nods, eyes fluttering shut as she gasps, “Mhm.”
A decade of being together means they’ve tried just about everything under the sun, and still, Mysaria likes it best when it’s like this. She loves being able to kiss Rhaenyra, to hold her close and feel her hands on her skin while they are connected so intimately. It’s fun when they get rough, sure, and god knows Rhaenyra has a talent with both her fingers and the dragon glass that sits tucked away, but nothing compares to this for her.
She tumbles over the edge with a soft cry of her name, trembling beneath Rhaenyra, a strong arm cradling her close as Rhaenyra chases her own high.
“ Fuck,” She swears softly, and Mysaria shivers, kissing her tenderly as they both return to themselves.
“Love you,” She murmurs sleepily, resting her head against Rhaenyra’s chest as she rearranges their positions to get comfortable.
Rhaenyra chuckles quietly, “I love you. And your inability to stay awake after we lie together.”
“One of life’s few great joys,” Mysaria replies, “I will never deny myself of it.”
A grin spreads across Rhaenyra’s face, and she shakes her head affectionately, “Well we have a good couple of hours before the next council meeting, fortunately. Sleep away.”
And so she does. They both drift off a few moments later, Rhaenyra’s arm tucked securely over her midriff to keep her close.