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“What is it like, fucking my father?”
Alicent lowered her embroidery. She was sitting in the gardens, her skirts all around her. It would have been better, she reflected, not to leave her bedchamber today. To lie beneath the covers for hours, staring up at the vaulted ceiling and making pictures from the shadows. But she’d wanted sunlight, and fresh air, and solitude. So she’d come to this secluded bench beneath the roses. Only, it seemed, to be pounced on by the princess standing before her.
“I don’t understand.” It was all Alicent could think to say. She looked up at Rhaenyra, or tried; the sun was heavy above Rhaenyra’s head, shadowing her face, making it unreadable.
Laughing, Rhaenyra sat beside Alicent on the bench. With a quick movement, she snatched up Alicent’s embroidery and dashed it to the ground, one daintily-clad food grinding the fine embroidery into the dust. The needle, caught up in the threads, glinted dully in the sunlight.
“What?” said Rhaenyra, marking Alicent’s expression. “Do you care about a silly bit of embroidery?”
Alicent was dismayed. It was not the fact of the embroidery being ruined that bothered her. She had just started it, and besides, the piece had not been coming along to her liking. But she was angry with Rhaenyra, an anger she did not know how to temper. It wasn’t fair that Alicent should be the king’s thing, to do with as he pleased, and Rhaenyra’s as well, to torment as she saw fit.
“That was mine.” Immediately, Alicent felt silly. That was mine. Something a child might say. What really belonged to Alicent? These days, even her own body was someone else’s.
“Have me thrown in the dungeons, then.” Rhaenyra was speaking too lightly, too calmly. It set Alicent on edge. “But Alicent.” And here she leaned in, her eyes bright and narrowed. “I asked you a question.”
Flushing, Alicent drew away. “You forget yourself, Rhaenyra.”
“Do I?” Rhaenyra’s eyes rested on Alicent’s. They were so blue, so much like her father’s. Alicent’s stomach churned.
“You can’t ask—you can’t say—you can’t!” Furious with herself for stumbling over her words, Alicent got to her feet.
Rhaenyra smirked and grabbed Alicent’s wrist. “Just tell me, and I’ll let you go.”
“Let me… Rhaenyra!” Alicent tried to pull her wrist away, but Rhaenyra was too strong, fingers digging in like chains. “I will not cater to your perverse and upsetting desires.”
“Desires? Do you think I want to know?” Rhaenyra demanded, getting to her feet, too. They were standing so close, Alicent’s wrist still caught in Rhaenyra’s hand, Rhaenyra’s breath on Alicent’s face, their skirts brushing. “No, of course not. But one day, I am to be wed. I wish to know what to expect.”
This was a ridiculous excuse. Rhaenyra’s marriage was far off, it seemed. It was like she thought she could live out her days independent and alone.
“Tell me what it’s like,” Rhaenyra insisted. She took a step closer so she was right up against Alicent, the two of them pressed together. If Alicent moved her face just a few inches forward, the two of them could be kissing.
With a burst of strength, Alicent yanked her wrist out of Rhaenyra’s grasp and turned. Immediately, Rhaenyra was on her. Hands on Alicent’s waist, pulling her back so Rhaenyra could hook her chin on Alicent’s shoulder.
“Do you get wet when he fucks you?” Rhaenyra whispered. Alicent froze. “Do you get wet like a whore?” Rhaenyra continued, her breath sickeningly hot against Alicent’s ear. Her hand curled around Alicent’s hips.
Alicent couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. Saliva fled her mouth. Her heart beat her breastbone. Everything felt like it was in slow-motion: the leaves rustling in the wind, the subtly shaking flower petals. The sunlight fell so hard and fast. Everything was too bright. She gagged.
Then, from behind, Rhaenyra’s hand was coming to her mouth, fingers hooking her cheek from the inside. She reared her head, but Rhaenyra held on. A tiny trickle of spit slid from the corner of Alicent’s mouth.
“I bet he uses you like the common cunt you are.” Rhaenyra had never sounded so vicious. Her fingers slipped from Alicent’s lip, and she gave Alicent a mighty push. The dirt rushed up to her, Alicent falling hard on her hands and knees. This close to the ground, she could smell the rich loam.
“Rhaenyra!” Alicent tried to push herself up, but Rhaenyra fell on top of her, pushing her prostrate. For some reason, the pressure of Rhaenyra atop her made something funny happen to Alicent. Her skin prickled, and her cunt clenched.
“I think you like it, don’t you, when my father splits you open with his cock.”
Alicent squeezed her eyes closed, tears threatening to spill from the clenched lids. She felt like a prey animal caught in Rhaenyra’s jaws. Every part of her felt squeezed.
“What does my father even see in you?” Rhaenyra was musing now, her lips at Alicent’s ear. “Does he admire your breasts, so firm and round? Or is it your shapely bottom?”
“I believe,” Alicent said huskily into the dirt, “he enjoys my company.”
Rhaenyra scoffed. “What could a man of his age see in a girl’s company? No, it must be something I’m missing.”
“You shouldn’t treat me this way,” said Alicent, pulling her last card. “I missed my menses.”
She could feel Rhaenyra stiffening atop her. “You’re with child.” Said flatly, not a hint of affect.
“That’s what the maesters say.”
But Rhaenyra did not get off Alicent. Instead, Alicent felt her skirt being pulled up her legs. With an enormous effort, she flipped herself and Rhaenyra over, the two of them sprawling.
From there, it was a fight. They punched and kicked and scratched, Alicent getting her nails deep into Rhaenyra’s cheek. For a moment, Rhaenyra brought her hand up to the wound. Then her eyes narrowed, and she tackled Alicent once more. Her hand come up beneath Alicent’s skirt, hot on her bare leg, for it was too warm for stockings.
Alicent stilled. It was as though she were back in Viserys’ bedchamber, his fingers instead of Rhaenyra’s dimpling her thigh.
But it wasn’t Viserys. It was Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra, whose presence, whose hot summer smell, whose hand creeping up Alicent’s leg, made a trickle of hot liquid spill from Alicent’s cunt.
Rhaenyra and Alicent stared at each other, both of them barely breathing, as Rhaenyra rubbed the crease between Alicent’s leg and her opening. Then Rhaenyra was slipping past Alicent’s undergarments, fingers brushing Alicent’s nub.
It was like being electrified. Alicent’s back arched, her eyes rolled up. It lasted just a moment, and then she went rigid, trying not to move. If she moved, it meant this was real. But if she just lay here…
And now Rhaenyra was rubbing Alicent’s nub, rubbing and saying in a hushed voice, “Does my father do this for you? Does he make you feel good?”
Despite herself, Alicent shook. She didn’t want this, not the father, nor the daughter. But the daughter made Alicent feel so tight inside, so wound up.
“He doesn’t? What about this?” Rhaenyra moved her fingers, slipping them inside Alicent’s cunt. From the way Rhaenyra’s fingers slid so easily inside of her, Alicent knew she was dripping wet. And she could tell from the shocked expression on Rhaenyra’s face that Rhaenyra knew, too. “You’re nothing more than a slattern,” Rhaenyra said softly. “Dripping on my fingers.”
Alicent whined. It felt so good, it felt so bad. She needed Rhaenyra to fuck her harder with her fingers, and she needed Rhaenyra gone.
“Please…”
“Please what? Use. Your. Words.” With each syllable, Rhaenyra jammed her fingers harder into Alicent, thumb rubbing at Alicent’s nub. Her hair swung against Alicent’s face as Rhaenyra’s whole body moved with each thrust.
Alicent sobbed, tears finally coming down her cheeks, hips moving forward, heels pounding the ground. Something was building inside her, something she’d never experienced with Viserys. It was so tight and hot and all-consuming, her skin prickling, her cunt biting down on Rhaenyra’s fingers. She moaned, an ugly, full-throated sound.
Rhaenyra slammed her free hand down on Alicent’s mouth. “Shut up before someone hears you.” She continued fucking Alicent with her hand, filthy whispers spilling from her lips. “Does my father make you feel this good? Do you squirm and whine and cry for him, too?”
Her head turned to the side, Alicent stared at one of the stone legs of the bench. The stone was mottled many different shades of gray, and its foot curled like a dragon’s claw. She tried to focus on that foot, to pull herself out of her body the way she did when Viserys fucked her by focusing on anything, anything but him.
But she never felt like this with Viserys, her blood humming, her entire body vibrating.
Rhaenyra was being brutal now, fucking her so hard, the pleasure growing and growing until Alicent was canting her hips to meet Rhaenyra’s thrusts. She moaned against Rhaenyra’s hand as the pleasure crested, so high she could barely believe it, her entire body awash with it. And then the pleasure reached such a high peak that Alicent’s eyes rolled back. A wave of powerful contractions opened and closed her cunt.
And then it was over, the pleasure receding most of the way, until Alicent was twitching around Rhaenyra’s fingers.
Slowly, slowly, Rhaenyra withdrew them and wiped them on Alicent’s skirt, her other hand sliding from Alicent’s mouth. The two girls stared at each other.
“Do you cum like that for my father?”
“No,” said Alicent.
Rhaenyra smirked, the corners of her lips curling upward. “Then you are mine now,” she said simply. “You will always be mine in a way you will never be my father’s. Because I was the first to give you pleasure. Now say thank you, Alicent.” She looked so pleased with herself, as though she had accomplished a great task.
“I will never thank you,” said Alicent.
The slap stung. Alicent reached for her cheek.
“You will always thank your betters.” Then, suddenly, Rhaenyra pressed her mouth hard against Alicent’s.
And Alicent—fucked, hurt, and ruined Alicent—kissed back.