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September, 2004
Rhaenyra spent an hour like that, with her knees against her chest and eyes puffy from crying.
It was a stupid decision, because parking was free for under thirty minutes, and now she had to root around in between the seats for spare change because of course she didn’t have enough cash on her.
Alicent always kept cash on her, but Alicent was flying away—possibly forever—and Rhaenyra was alone in the parking lot of Westchester fucking Airport.
It turned out not to matter, because the parking attendant just waved her through with a sympathetic glance. Rhaenyra was grateful, but humiliated, because she must look pathetic.
The drive home was on autopilot, which was possibly the worst way to drive through the city, but she couldn’t get her mind to be present, active when there was so much clogging up her mind.
Alicent loved her.
Alicent loved her—Rhaenyra—and knew it, admitted it.
It wasn’t enough. It didn’t change anything. She felt stupid for thinking it ever would.
---
Draft:
You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.
Draft:
I think it’s over this time, Alicent. Unless you change, or --
Whatever. Thanks for twenty years I guess. Wish it meant something.
Draft:
It did mean something, actually. And you know that, too. You just won’t do anything. Probably waiting for me to email first, like you always do. Well HA! Not this time. Instead I’m just pathetically rambling to myself like a loser.
Draft:
So are you really not going to email me? Or say anything? I’ve been refreshing my inbox like crazy, even had my Mom keep a look out for letters to her place, but nothing. Zip. Nada.
Like, really, fuck you Alicent. It’s always me that has to reach out. Always me. You were never going to actually do anything to let us be together and I’m just a fucking fool.
It’s over this time, actually.
October, 2004
“You haven’t asked for tampons in a while.”
“Hm?” She responded, half paying attention, more focused on the magazine in front of her.
“On the shopping list; there’s no tampons. Usually by the 15th you need more.”
Rhaenyra set the magazine aside, the corners of her mouth quirking up, “Weird that you know that, by the way.”
Harwin sighed, pulling the list off the fridge and coming to sit next to her on the couch, “Rhaenyra, this is serious.”
“Isn’t this a good thing? Saving some money each month not having to pay for tampons. We can save up and go to Paris or something.” She pulled the magazine back into her lap, eyes shifting away from him very deliberately.
He flicked the side of her head, “Rhaenyra.”
“Ow,” She rubbed at her head, “What if I am pregnant? Now you’ve just assaulted a pregnant woman. That’s a felony, I’m pretty sure.”
“Have you taken a test?”
“No.”
“Rhaenyra.”
“We’ve established you know my name, babe,” She held the magazine closer to her face, “Tina, in accounting, recommends this new show, by the way. About the plane crash and the island and—”
Harwin pushed the magazine out of her hands, slotting a hand along her cheek, “Babe, I do not want to talk about Survivor.”
“Well, it’s not Survivor. That’s a reality TV show, this is a drama. See it’s right here in this—” Rhaenyra tried to grab the magazine back from him.
“Rhaenyra, if you’re pregnant we need to know.” His hand was soft against her face and despite her annoyance, she let herself sink into him a bit.
She pouted, sticking her bottom lip out dramatically and whining, “Maybe it can be a nice surprise. Like oh, cool, a baby!”
“Rhaenyra,” He pat her leg once before getting up, “I’m going out to get a test. Have some pee ready, or something.”
She cringed, “ Have some pee ready?”
---
She felt sick, 20 minutes later, with 30 seconds left on the timer.
“We don’t have to have a baby now, you know, even if it is positive. Or ever, it’s okay.”
“I’m just scared, Har,” She murmured, her face tucked into his side, “There’s just so much that has changed in the last few months and imagine if we add a baby into that mix. And, God, what if I’m a terrible mother?”
“There’s a lot, I know, but—”
The timer went off, interrupting him.
Rhaenyra’s heart stilled. Because what if she was a terrible mother? She could be selfish and impatient. She didn’t think things through, sometimes, and she left her socks at the end of the bed even though she could easily put them in the hamper. She was emotionally distraught over a girl that didn’t want to be with her, and what kind of role model is that for a child? What if her body can’t even handle pregnancy? What if she was out for the count and in pain, or what if she did something wrong and hurt the baby? And the baggage she brought with her—daddy issues she never really properly worked through, this feeling that she was never doing enough, the near-constant feeling that things weren’t what they should be, and—
“It’s positive.” Harwin murmured.
“Are you sure?” Her neck shot up to look at him.
“Two lines,” He held out the stick, “means it’s positive.”
“We’re having a baby,” She grinned, wiping the tears from her face, “A real baby.”
He beamed, dropping the stick on the side table and bending down to wrap her in his arms, “Yeah, we are.”
November, 2005
The first appointment was scary, because she was actually further along than they thought. Rhaenyra was never the best tracker, so to say, but she hadn’t had a period for a few months, actually. Three weeks ago, the OB/GYN informed them that she was about two and a half months along, with an approximate due date of April 15.
Which, fundamentally, was insane, because that wasn’t even that far away.
But because she was already pretty far along, they could book her in for an ultrasound almost immediately. Rhaenyra was scared shitless, because each new thing made this more and more real. It was no longer just a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that something was up and frustration that those tight pants that made her ass look fantastic were fitting a little differently, but a real, actual thing she had to deal with.
Rhaenyra wasn’t sure how she felt, because she knew she wanted a baby, but the fact it was actually happening now was so scary, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was out of her depth.
And then the OB/GYN tells her the baby is the size of a kumquat now, and uses the wand to show where it sits in her belly and—
She fell in love, so completely, world-shatteringly in love, in 1 second, beating her previous record of needing a whole 3 minutes to fall in love with someone.
Which, God, she wanted to tell her. She wanted to ask about her experience and ask for advice. She wanted to talk about the million baby names she was considering and what stroller she purchased for her kids. Whether she had bad acid reflux or if her nose changed.
But she didn’t do that anymore. She couldn’t do that anymore.
So, instead, she clutched the ultrasound in her hands and cried about how there was a little guy inside her that needed her. That relied on her so fully and it was up to her to keep him safe these next few months.
Her mom cried when they told her, as they expected. She cried and hugged her so tightly before pulling back, saying she didn’t want to crush the baby.
And then the phone calls began. Each day, when she came home from work, there’d be a message on the answering machine of her mom telling about some absolutely darling toy she found in a boutique, and how it was no problem, really, but it’s waiting in her apartment for them whenever they have a moment.
---
Laenor and Mysaria found out at a bar about a week later.
“No, she is hot. She’s incredibly hot, and I like dogs, I do,” Mysaria sighed, “But he takes up half the damn bed, and it’s not like it’s a huge bed, so I end up pushed to the very edge because of Cody.”
“Cody?” Harwin questioned, an eyebrow raised.
“The dog,” Mysaria muttered, “Big as a horse, I’m telling you.”
“I think you just have commitment issues, babe,” Laenor slung an arm around her, “You get to seven months with a girl and then look for issues with her.”
Mysaria stuck her tongue out at him, “Maybe it’s because my first girlfriend was so terrible that I’m terrified to get hurt again.”
“It’s been a decade,” Rhaenyra leaned forward, “Move on, loser.”
Mysaria laughed as she stood up, “Because you’re the person I’m going to take advice on moving on from,” Mysaria pressed a kiss against Rhaenyra’s cheek, “I’m getting another round, you want a drink this time?”
Rhaenyra, unconsciously, let her hands drop to her stomach.
“Oh my god,” Mysaria gasped, “Are you pregnant?”
Rhaenyra turned to look at Harwin, because this was completely not how they planned on telling people. He just shrugged, and then she couldn’t keep the smile off her face and Harwin was slinging an arm around her shoulders.
“You are! You totally are! You bitch, why didn’t you tell me?” Mysaria jeered, tugging Rhaenyra out of Harwin’s arms to pull her into a hug.
“Rhaenyra!” Laenor cheered, and suddenly it was a group hug and—
“Guys, I’m feeling a little suffocated here.” Rhaenyra giggled.
“Wait, I hate to ask this,” Laenor pulled back, situating himself back in his bar stool, “But how’s that gonna work in February?”
“I told you,” Rhaenyra sipped at her Coke, “I’m moving on, I was serious. There won’t be any trip in February.”
Rhaenyra tried to ignore the wary looks that they exchanged, deciding, for once, to be confident in her ability to move on.
Or at least try to move on.
December, 2004
She shouldn’t be looking at her email in the evening. She liked to disconnect from work, but her position didn’t really allow for that, anymore. So here she was, 9pm on a Friday with her laptop propped on her lap responding to some email that really couldn’t wait until Monday, unfortunately.
Blame it on the hormones, or the fact it was the holiday season, or that it was getting late, but she was about to close out of her email when all of the sudden her fingers were moving the mouse to the search bar and Alicent’s name was being typed before she could really stop herself.
She bit her lip as the results loaded, because she was trying to be better than this, she was, but…
Rhaenyra scrolled down quickly, before she could regret anything, and selected a random email.
Sent: 04/02/04, 8:42AM
From: [email protected]
Subject: Pre Birthday Warning
Rhaenyra,
I can’t even really drink anymore. I woke up hungover after three beers - THREE!
That’s sad, pathetic even.
So this is your official warning that 29 is when your body really starts reminding you that you are not a teenager anymore - quite cruel, really.
I hope you have a good birthday :-)
Miss you, Alicent
Her heart caught in her throat and she was powerless, then, at preventing herself from scrolling through the emails. She tortured herself for a while, letting her eyes be flooded with memories of their relationship, of how well Alicent knew her and how much time they spent together.
“Tried out a new cheesecake recipe -- remind me to make it for you on our next cabin trip. You’ll like it.”
“Aegon joined a youth soccer team. He’s completely shit at it, might need to get his vision checked out because he misses the ball every time. Might need you to coach.”
“Remember that time at camp where you completely tipped your kayak over while trying to tip mine over. That was stupid. Just wanted to remind you.”
“Rhaenyra,” a hand was on her back then, “Babe, let’s get ready for bed.”
She turned to look at him, rubbing her eyes— God, when did she start crying— and his face broke her, a little. He looked at her with so much sympathy, so earnest, and didn’t even need to ask what she was looking at, he just knew.
Rhaenyra didn’t respond for a moment, just looked at him and reached out a hand to grab at his arm.
This was a good thing, They couldn’t continue as they had been. It was destined to fail, to blow up. Alicent would never actually make that move, would never choose Rhaenyra despite the love she admitted she felt for her.
It was good, necessary, that Rhaenyra was moving on.
But it fucking hurt. She missed her best friend. She missed making jokes with her and tucking a lock of Alicent’s hair behind her ear and going on horse rides with her and—
She just missed her. She missed her so much.
“C’mon, I have your pyjamas out on the bed for you, this isn’t helping you.” He murmured, shutting her laptop for her and helping her to her feet.
“I still miss her, Harwin.” She whispered into his side.
“I know. I know.”
January, 2005
“This is the worst day of my life.” Rhaenyra grumbled, a hand rubbing at her stomach as if to protect the baby (a boy, they recently learned) from the commotion occurring in their apartment.
“I remind you, for the 100th time, that this was your idea.” Harwin pointed out, holding the front door open for one of the movers.
“Don’t care,” Rhaenyra retorted, “Let’s ask them to move everything back and renew our lease.”
With a huff, Rhaenyra started toward one of the stacks of boxes in the corner, looking around for a knife to tear open the boxes.
“Rhaenyra,” Harwin abandoned the door to embrace her, “We already bought the other apartment. Someone else is moving in here. And the movers cost an arm and a leg, I’m not having you undo all their work. It’s going to be okay.”
Rhaenyra pouted against his chest, “The Upper East Side is just so boring, Harwin. What if he hates it there?”
Harwin lay a hand on the ever-growing swell of her belly, “I love you and you should know how ridiculous you sound whenever you complain about growing up in one of the richest zipcodes in the country. Little Harold will love it there.”
Rhaenyra scoffed, pushing him off of her in a huff, “We are not naming our son Harold , first of all, and second of all—”
“Ma’am,” One of the movers stood at the door to the bedroom, holding a picture frame in his hands, “We’re sorry, not sure what happened, but one of the frames fell while we were packing up, and it cracked. It’s just the frame, not the painting.”
“Oh,” Rhaenyra smiled, “That’s okay, it’s just a frame. Don’t worry about it.”
She moved toward the mover, outstretching her hands to ask for the frame. It really wasn’t a big deal, she and Harwin had plenty of photos of them, after all, and it was just a frame. And if the only thing that broke in the move—the stupid ridiculous move that Rhaenyra hated even if it was her idea—was a photo, then that wasn’t that bad.
“Ah,” Her heart leapt into her throat, “Um, Harwin…can you, um—”
Rhaenyra wasn’t sure what she was asking for. She clutched the frame within her arms and shuffled into the bathroom, figuring it was the only room not flooded with strangers packing up the last several years of her life into boxes. She clicked the lock closed behind her, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet.
Fuck.
Her fingers dug into the frame, the broken pieces of glass creating minuscule cuts in her fingers. Underneath was a watercolor of autumn leaves; rich reds, greens, and yellows; stretched out against a river. Hills curved in the background, but Rhaenyra’s favorite detail was the remains of a campfire that the artist had included—showing that another person, or people, were there, enjoying the autumn air of the Catskills.
She bought it so many years ago during one of their excursions into the town an hour or so away from the state park. It was stunning, so stunning, she hadn’t really thought about it before handing over some cash.
She had offered to buy one for Alicent, too, but Alicent had said no. She had said her memories were enough, and that she didn’t need Rhaenyra to spend money on her.
Rhaenyra’s fingers clenched a little tighter around the frame. It was always a no, for some reason or another. A no followed by a please , which was always followed by Rhaenyra agreeing to the request and… fuck.
It was just a painting of the park, that wouldn’t have even been that difficult to explain. Rhaenyra understood, she did, but it was a painting of a landscape, not a fucking pride flag. But Alicent said no, like she always did, because she didn’t want any reminders of Rhaenyra in her normal life. Rhaenyra didn’t belong there, she wasn’t wanted there.
Maybe she wasn’t being fair, but when had Alicent ever been fair to her?
She had looked so beautiful, the day they bought that painting. It was a little colder that day, unseasonably so, and Alicent’s cheeks were tickled pink. She had borrowed Rhaenyra’s beige sweater and didn’t find it funny when Rhaenyra compared her to a teddy bear. She had let Rhaenyra hold her hand a little in town, even though it was distinctly public, and Rhaenyra had felt so proud. That was really the only word that described it, a sense of pride like: Hey! Look everyone - she’s with me!
She wasn’t with her, now, and had chosen everything else above her for the hundredth time.
“Rhaenyra,” A knock on the door, “You okay?”
She wiped her tears, laying the frame on the sink counter before rising to unlock the door.
“Yeah, fine thanks,” Rhaenyra smiled, she pushed the frame into Harwin’s chest, “We can toss this. It’s broken, no need to try and bring it with us.”
She leaned on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss onto his cheek, “I’m gonna go call my Mom and let her know we’ll be heading over soon.”
February, 2005
“What is this?”
“Hm?”
“Harwin.” Rhaenyra’s voice was shrill, accusatory. Her fingers clenched around the plastic legs of the horse figurine, waving it as she approached him. “Why is this thing in our son’s nursery?”
“The horse?” He quirked an eyebrow, brushing his brow with his wrist as he paused his work with the bookshelf.
Rhaenyra’s fingers gripped harder around the horse. “Why the fuck is this in our son’s nursery?”
“Uh,” Harwin glanced around the room as if someone could give him additional context, “I think Aemma dropped it off a few days ago. Thought it would look good in the nursery.”
“It doesn’t look cute .” She spat between her teeth.
“Well, I didn’t say cute—”
“It’s ugly. Plastic. We’re going for a timeless, classy equestrian theme. Not cheap shit. It doesn’t belong in our son’s nursery.”
“Okay.” He raised his hands in accepted defeat, rising to his feet from the still half-built bookcase and holding his hand out for the figurine. “No horse figurine. No problem. I can toss it, it’s no big—”
“NO!” Rhaenyra yelped, snatching the figurine out of his grasp and holding it tightly against her chest “It doesn’t need to be chucked out. Just…”
Rhaenyra paused, caressing her belly and lifting the horse in front of her face to examine it. Slightly faded, but still visible, was the name Fletcher written in marker. The paint was starting to chip on the hooves and the coloring of the tail had all but completely worn off. Tears began to prick at her eyes, her bottom lip started to wobble.
Fucking hormones.
“It doesn’t need to be in our son’s nursery. Let’s keep that a happy place.”
She set the horse back on the counter, softly running a finger along the plastic mane like she did as a child. Gently, so as not to break it. Rhaenyra didn’t even like the figurines as a kid, not when she could walk a few blocks to the park and see the real thing. But she did. She loved them. She would tell Rhaenyra, her cheeks dotted with freckles that shined in the sun, about the new breeds that she had acquired, how she had to keep them from her brothers who didn’t understand that they were precious, how she would use her mother’s duster to keep them clean. And during their second year at camp Alicent brought the figurine with her; handed it to her with blush covering her cheeks and said she wanted Rhaenyra to have one, too.
“Am I missing something about this horse? This seems—“
“I need a vacation!” Rhaenyra declared, whirling around to face the window.
“O-kay.” Harwin elongated the O .
“I always get a vacation in February. I can’t go this long without a break. You should know that.”
“A month ago you specifically said you didn’t want to go to the cabin—”
“Not the cabin! But somewhere! Think, come on!” She threw her hands up in a wild gesture, refusing to cringe at the drama of the movement.
Harwin huffed, visibly frustrated but excruciatingly patient. It was infuriating, only spurring Rhaenyra on that he wasn’t willing to sink to her level, to lash at her about her immaturity so that she could yell at him in return. If he could just snap at her, scream at her like he should , this would be so much easier.
Stupid, ugly , plastic horse with weird eyes.
Harwin exhaled, carefully not moving closer to Rhaenyra as he came up with other options.“We could go to the Caribbean. That’s about as opposite from a winter cabin as—”
“In February? Are you insane? Every beach will be filled with Midwesterners and their weird accents.” She rolled her eyes, annoyed that he would overlook such an obvious problem.
“ I’m from the Midwest!” Harwin protested, tone finally beginning to match the brattiness in Rhaenyra’s own.
“Well, not you.” She felt it would not be out of place for her to stamp her foot right now.
“And you loved Madison.” He finally began moving closer to her, hands raised like he was approaching a rabid dog.
“I’m not going to Wisconsin in February.” Rhaenyra jeered, why the hell couldn’t he see what was wrong? Why couldn’t he fix this?
“I did not at any point suggest that.”
“Well!”
“Rhaenyra.” He lay a hand on her shoulder, warm and comforting. “Come on. I’m…I’m trying here.”
She whined a little, weakly wiping at the tears as the overwhelming guilt settled in her stomach, feeling childish and stupid for getting so upset over this.
“I don’t want the horse figurine in his nursery.” She murmured, voice muffled by his shirt and she turned his face into his chest. He rubbed her back in a way that should make her feel childish and small, but she allowed herself to just feel comforted for now.
“It won’t be. I’ll make sure it goes back to your mom’s place.”
She wiped her nose, reconsidering all that Harwin had said earlier now the highest peak of the emotion had passed.
“The Caribbean sounds nice, actually.” Rhaenyra admitted, her cheeks a little red from the previous crying and slight embarrassment.
“Yeah? Not too long a flight and we could be sipping coconuts on the beach. We can get your assistant to book that for us.”
“That sounds nice.” Rhaenyra contended, suddenly exhausted. She picked up the horse, fingers trailing the plastic mane as she refused to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry. For snapping. I’m…I’m trying. It’s just hard.”
He wrapped her in a bear hug in response, the horse now crushed against their chests almost painfully. “I’m proud of you, you know. One day at a time.”
March, 2005
She escaped from the baby shower for a moment, ducking into her childhood room to enjoy a minute without someone’s hand on her tummy or asking her what her birth plan was. She just needed a moment to breathe without a thousand reminders of how everything was changing.
It was weird, being in her childhood room. It was still hers, technically, but not really.
The bed was made, because of course it was, but she delighted in the minuscule rebellion in tearing the duvet into a pile for her to sit against. She took a moment to pull out her phone to text Harwin, but in her clumsiness dropped the phone and sent it tumbling to the floor.
Rhaenyra huffed, blowing a piece of hair from her face. She didn’t mind being pregnant. Actually, she found she liked parts of it, particularly how she could lay a hand on her stomach and feel him there. But it was hard to bend, and that was fucking annoying.
She should go and get someone, embarrassingly admit to Harwin or Laenor that she dropped her phone and it would be helpful for someone to grab it for her. But she was, more than anything else, stubborn, so instead she sighed and lowered herself to the floor.
She didn’t mind being pregnant, but Harwin’s massive baby needed to get out of her.
Getting on the floor to grab her phone was one thing, but getting up was another ordeal entirely, and one she absolutely did not plan for before she lowered herself to the floor.
“ Shit.” Rhaenyra muttered, her fingers tugging at the fibers of the rug in frustration.
She felt oddly childish, sitting there on the floor of her childhood bedroom. Rhaenyra had visited her old room frequently since she moved out, but she couldn’t recall sitting on the floor, not like she had when she colored pictures at five, or when she painted her toenails at eleven, or when she rolled joints at seventeen.
Or, most frequently, as she had when she meticulously prepared another letter for Alicent, expensive stationary sets strewn across the floor and feet kicking as she wrote poorly disguised love notes.
From the corner of eye, Rhaenyra noticed the purple corner of a box sticking out from under the bed. Realization dawned on her and her hands were pulling out the trunk before she could stop herself.
“Jesus, Rhaenyra.” She admonished herself, fingers fiddling with the padlock on autopilot. She knew what was in there before she opened it, but being confronted with the evidence of years of devotion made her stomach turn.
Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic.
On top was the acceptance packet to Brown that she received years ago, sequestered to the trunk when Alicent refused to return any of her letters about college plans. “Fuck me.” Rhaenyra muttered, thumbing the acceptance packet.
Stupid. Stupid girl who could never see how she was being taken for a ride. Refused to see how she was pushed around.
The packet was too thick to be crumpled, and lacking any other place to toss it, Rhaenyra decided to slip it between the bookshelf and the wall. Out of sight, out of mind, or something. She just needed it away from her.
Rhaenyra glanced at the stack of letters in the trunk.
Stupid, stupid, idiot girl.
She grabbed one from near the top of the stack, almost tearing the paper as she opened it.
Rhaenyra,
I’ve been thinking. I actually think living in a city might be fun, but only for a few months. I think our better plan is still getting a ranch somewhere. Maybe even out west, like real cowgirls!
We have to go to college and stuff first, but maybe afterward we can each get married and live next to each other on the ranch. I guess we don’t have to think about it for a while though.
Alicent
Rhaenyra slotted the letter back into the stack before she could crumple it, tears falling down her face in a mix of frustration and grief. She wasn’t crazy, she was just pathetic.
She wanted to wrap her arms around her knees, fall to a fetal position, and feel very sorry for herself. But she couldn’t even do that, because she was carrying a massive fucking baby in her stomach because she wasn’t seventeen anymore, she was thirty— thirty .
“Jace,” Rhaenyra rubbed her stomach, “if you ever come to me with girl problems, I’m going to be the worst Mom ever. Can’t even get over my own.
“Or boy problems.” She frowned.
“Fucking up a kid before he’s already born.” She muttered. Rhaenyra shoved the trunk back under the bed, banishing it like she wished she could banish her feelings.
April, 2005
Rhaenyra had called a taxi over to her place before she could even really process what she was doing. She sent off one text informing she’d be around in twenty and didn’t bother to check for a response.
What on Earth could Mysaria be up to on a Sunday that was more important?
Mysaria looked annoyed when the door swung open. “What a joy to see you, Rha—”
Whatever cutting remark she had planned got cut off when she noticed Rhaenyra’s face, how her lip wobbled slightly and her eyes looked damn right pathetic. “What the Hell happened to you, Targaryen?”
“Can I come in?” Rhaenyra asked, already pushing into Mysaria’s apartment.
“Yeah, yeah. Let me just stub this—” It was only then that Rhaenyra noticed the joint in Mysaria’s hand.
“ Noooooo.” Rhaenyra whined, wanting to flop onto the couch but having to settle for a slow sit-down, hand braced on her back. “I’m still cool. I’m edgy. I’m hip. I’m—”
“Okay what happened? What the fuck are you talking about?” Mysaria asked, perplexed as she opened the windows of her apartment and began to fan out the smoke.
Rhaenyra laid back on the couch, trying desperately to ignore the build up of acid reflux in her esophagus as she went horizontal, hand flopping on the floor in her best impression of a melting cat. “I’m cool. I smoke weed, I drink, I’ve done drugs! I’ve—”
“Well, hopefully not right now,” Mysaria’s eyes drifted to Rhaenyra’s swollen belly, “considering.”
“Mysaria.” Rhaenyra whined, loud and pathetic. “That’s the problem.”
“I thought you said you found pregnancy surprisingly enjoyable!”
“It’s not the baby.” Rhaenyra groaned as he kicked her, as if he was ganging up on her too. “It’s other people around the baby.”
“Harwin being a pain?”
“No,” Rhaenyra groaned, again, louder, “he’s perfect as per usual. Well—”
Rhaenyra felt annoyed, thinking back to an hour ago in class. He fit in so well with the other parents—getting phone numbers and names and being so damn charming . He was so good at it, so natural, and he wasn’t seconds away from calling Francesca an obnoxious twat.
Fucking Francesca. Babbling on about starting a meal swap program and doing newborn playdates and— oh! You’re having a boy? I’m having a girl—maybe they’ll fall in love.
“I called my baby gay.”
Mysaria arched an eyebrow. “What?”
“I told another woman at the lamaze class that I’m taking estrogen pills to ensure my baby turns out gay because she was annoying me. And I think she believed me.”
“Rhaenyra why the fuck would you say that?” Mysaria asked incredulously.
“Mysaria…” Rhaenyra whined, which quickly turned into tears for no reason other than she was a mess. “They all suck so bad.”
“Who?”
Rhaenyra slapped her hands over her face, angry that Mysaria couldn’t just scan her brain and discover exactly what Rhaenyra was thinking. “The future parents of the Upper East Side. They suck. They suck so bad.”
Suddenly, Rhaenyra felt her head jostle and when she opened her eyes, she was looking up at Mysaria, head now cradled in her lap. Mysaria didn’t say anything, just trailed a few fingers through Rhaenyra’s hair. Rhaenyra sighed, suddenly back to college on the lawn, sun on her skin as she curled into Mysaria as she cried about her dad or school or someone else, and moved onto her side so her face pressed into Mysaria’s stomach.
“They’re so pretentious, Mysaria. And so boring. I thought it was just meant to be a breathing class but it’s all this big competition of who can be the better parent. It’s constant judgement about whether you have the best preschool lined up or what brand of stroller you got or, and this is really the worst—how you’re keeping your husband satisfied this late on in your pregnancy—as if he wasn’t the one to do this to me!”
“Rhaenyra…” Mysaria’s fingers stilled in her hair. Rhaenyra braced herself, recognizing the way Mysaria inhaled a breath and looked to the side. “I say this with the utmost love, but you’re a rich white woman on the Upper East Side. Those are your peers.”
Rhaenyra whined again, unintelligible and childish, and pushed her face further into Mysaria’s stomach. “No.”
“Rhaenyra.” Mysaria scolded.
“I’m nothing like them, Mys. I’m pretentious and obnoxious but—”
“Well, at least you’re self aware.”
“ But I’m not pretentious and obnoxious like that.”
Rhaenyra felt the tears fall down her cheeks before she was conscious of the fact she was crying. Christ, she was a mess. A big, pathetic mess. A big, pathetic mess who was going to fuck up her kid because she had no backbone or impulse control or patience and she was constantly judgemental and pretentious and would likely give him a complex or twenty by the time he was ten.
“Oh, babe.” Mysaria grabbed a tissue from the side table, patting at Rhaenyra’s cheeks with a sudden softness on her face. “You don’t have to be barefoot and pregnant just because you’re, well, pregnant.”
Rhaenyra laughed despite herself, and despite the fact it wasn’t really funny. “You’re just saying that because you think my feet smell.”
“Well they do.” Mysaria crinkled her nose. “But I’m being serious. You don’t have to change just because of a baby.”
Rhaenyra sighed. “But I do. It’ll happen whether I want to or not. Soon I’ll be hosting tupperware parties and making casseroles and being heterosexual.”
“I don’t think that last part is possible.”
“It is. Side effect of the estrogen I’m taking to make Jace gay.”
Rhaenyra smirked, proud of her joke despite Mysaria’s eye roll. “You’re so stupid.”
“Yeah.” Rhaenyra agreed, wiping her tears on Mysaria’s shirt, knowing how much it pissed her off.
“But, seriously Rhaenyra. Last weekend Laenor mooned some tourists in Greenwich Village while he was drunk off his ass—it’s not like you’ll never have fun again.”
Rhaenyra smiled, remembering the photos Qarl had sent her. Before her emotions suddenly made another 180 degree turn and she was sad again.
Because things did change. Things had changed. Everything was different than a year ago. God, she wasn’t even married a year ago. And now…
“I’m proud of you, you know.” Mysaria interrupted her train of thought. “I think you’ve come a long way. And I know I’m harsh on you sometimes—”
“Understatement of the century.”
“ But it’s out of love. Because you do deserve better. You’re a good person. Most of the time, at least.”
Rhaenyra stopped breathing for a bit, upset at how Mysaria always seemed to see right through Rhaenyra to the core of the issue. There was no pretending around Mysaria, which was such a gift despite how much Rhaenyra loved pretending. She fiddled with the fabric of Mysaria’s shirt, not knowing how to respond.
“I know you’ve gone through a lot of changes this year, some that you didn’t really want to go through, and you’re right; things will change again. But change can be good, you know? We’ll have a cute baby to dress up and parade around. And we can still have fun. We can still drink and go to pride and I’m sure we can find you some girl’s pussy to eat, I’m sure Harwin won’t mind.”
“You’re disgusting.” Rhaenyra scoffed, not responding to the rest of what Mysaria said. Not knowing how to respond to what Mysaria said when it created such a sense of dread within her she began to feel nauseous.
“You said you didn’t want to be heterosexual!” Mysaria nudged her playfully.
“You wouldn’t want me to be either. Then you’d really not have a chance.”
“Get over yourself, Targaryen.”
It was quiet for a moment, Mysaria’s fingers trailing through her hair and Rhaenyra arching into the touch like a cat. It was familiar, the pain, the fear, the comfort, and the love.
“Do you remember?” Mysaria broke the silence. “The first time we went to babysit the twins back in college? And Larra splattered applesauce in your hair.”
“God, that took hours to wash out.” Rhaenyra cringed.
“I think that was the first time I realized, like…you know I always kind of resented how much I had to take care of them, but you made it so much fun. It was addictive; you were addictive. I just wish you would stand up sometimes.” Mysaria grabbed her hand, squeezing twice and graciously not looking at Rhaenyra and preventing them both from crying. “Even if you are a pretentious, heterosexual twat.”
“ You can’t make that joke! Only I can.” Rhaenyra huffed. “But thank you, Mysaria. For everything.”
Mysaria smiled, tugging at Rhaenyra’s hair lightly like she used to do in college. “You owe me a new blunt by the way, I had barely started on that one.”
“Can’t. Pregnant.” Rhaenyra smirked, feeling for once that she could do this, maybe.
May, 2005
Jace was born two weeks late—in true Targaryen fashion, Harwin said—with distinctly powerful lungs, if the volume of his screams were anything to go by. He had pink skin and a mop of thick brown hair on his tiny head. The second he was placed on her chest, she felt centered -- like there was nothing else she could possibly ask for in this world, as long as Jace was warm and soft and perfect. She was still worried about her ability to parent, but looking at him, at his little nose and wide brown eyes, she knew she’d do whatever it took to be the best parent she could for him.
He was completely healthy, the nurses said, but she kept pulling him out of the crib to count all of his fingers and toes. Harwin chuckled a little, but he really had no place to speak, because he laid Jace’s hand on top of his own and murmured about how small he was at every opportunity.
Her mother was purposely the only one that visits the first day, as she didn’t want to overwhelm Jace on his first day on Earth, and it feels right seeing him in her arms. It all feels right, so, so right; probably because he was the most perfect baby to ever exist.
It was probably the longest she had ever gone without thinking about other things, her focus solely centered on the little blue bundle in her arms.
She had a little difficulty with positioning to feed him, but the lactation specialist helped and Harwin just beamed at her, as if he had never been more proud of someone.
That night, as she fed him before trying to get some rest for herself, she delighted in holding him against her and feeling his tummy rise and fall as he breathed.
“I’m going to be a really good mom for you, okay?” Rhaenyra whispered into his hair, caressing his cheek with her thumb. “I’m going to try really hard. You’re never going to have to worry about anything whenever I’m around.”
She kissed his head again and again when he was placed in the crib next to her.
“ I love you, I love you, I love you.”
June, 2005
Draft :
Alicent,
I had a baby, by the way. Most perfect little guy on earth. When he yawns he pats his tiny little fists around like he wants to grab onto me, and I can feel his entire body relax when I give him my finger to hold.
I want to send you pictures, but you don’t deserve it, really. It’s actually really fucked up that you haven’t written to me at all. Almost a whole year and nothing? It’s always like this. You blow things up and ruin things and I have to be the one to reach out. I have to be the one to fix things. And now I gave fucking birth and had to go through the whole pregnancy without any support from my best friend. That’s fucking cruel, Alicent. Do you know how pretentious the expecting mom groups of NYC are? And the only person I know with any experience is my fucking mom, so it would have been really nice to talk to you. But no, fuck me, right?
Would it fucking kill you to just try for once in your life? To make an actual choice instead of forcing yourself and everyone around you to live in limbo? You’re so fucking frustrating, you know? Confessing that you love me and then abandoning me. That’s psychotic. And now I have to text Jenna from Lamaze class because it’s not like Mysaria can answer my questions about whether you can freeze breast milk or not. And you know what’s really fucked? If you had asked me that, way back when you were pregnant with Aegon and ignoring me again , I would have gone to the library and figured it out for you. Pathetic, honestly, but I would have. Because I love you enough to want you and fight for you and choose you and I always have. And I don’t know why it’s only settling in that you never will. Maybe I’m fucking stupid.
And I’m mad at myself, really. Because I lied to myself this whole time. Telling myself that I knew you would never choose me and that I could be okay with that. But I hoped that whole time, like a lovesick idiot.
And now we just have decades of memories between us that just mean nothing. Nothing. I’m not nothing to you, Alicent. I know that. You just --
Draft:
I wish I could wish I never met you.
Draft:
Need to buy a fucking journal. Maybe burn it afterward. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.
Draft:
It’s not fucking fair the hold you have on me.
July, 2005
“I would almost understand celebrating six months for a baby, but two is kind of ridiculous.”
“Well, you didn’t have to bring a gift. I told you specifically not to.” Rhaenyra rolled her eyes but accepted the brightly wrapped gift out of Mysaria’s hands anyway. “I also told you it’s mostly just an excuse to have people over and not spend all day lactating.”
Mysaria grimaced. “Thanks for that, weirdo.” Mysaria nudged Rhaenyra’s hip with her own, stepping around her into the apartment. “Now, where is my godson? I’d rather talk to him than you.”
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes again but gestured into the living room. “He doesn’t really talk.”
Mysaria ignored her, proceeding into the living room and lighting up when she saw Jace’s pink face. “Most perfect boy in the world! The only good male, ever.”
“Hey!” Harwin complained. “What about me?”
Despite the teasing, Harwin passed Jace to Mysaria, who was happy to accept her new favorite person into her arms.
Mysaria crinkled her nose judgmentally. “You are often bothersome, Jace never is.”
“He is the perfect baby.” Harwin agreed. “Probably a genius, which he definitely didn’t get from me.”
“You’re smart.” Rhaenyra chided, kicking him a little with her foot.
Harwin smiled at her, picking up her hand to squeeze twice before kissing her on the cheek. “I think the spanakopita is almost done, I’m going to hang out in the kitchen until the oven beeps, but go ahead and settle in.”
“Ugh, what would I do without you?”
“Probably have burnt spanakopita.” He smirked.
Before she could sit down, there was another knock on the door. Even through the door, she could hear the loud babbling that awaited her.
The second she opened the door, she was engulfed in the grasp of tiny hands.
“Hi Joffrey!” She laughed as he clung to her like a koala. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Nyra.” He grinned up at her, barely coming to the height of her thigh. “I bought Jace a present. It’s very generous and kind.”
“Oh thank you, Joffrey.” She looked up to Laenor and Qarl, who were both shaking their heads and smiled.
“You’re looking great, by the way. I think motherhood suits you.” Laenor pulled her into a hug and it was stupid, really stupid, but she didn’t realize how much she had missed him recently and she found herself holding onto him a little bit longer than she should.
“You okay?” He asked when she let him go.
“Missed you, I guess.”
“Sap.” But he gave her another quick hug as he breezed into the living room.
Rhaenyra had missed a lot, lately. She had missed drinking, late nights with Mysaria, boobs that weren’t constantly sore, and even work, strangely—feeling powerful and somewhat competent and—
She had missed other things, too. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thoughts from her mind before they could get stuck.
When she turned around, she saw Laenor, Joffrey in his lap and Mysaria next to him so incredibly gently handing Joffrey Jace to hold in his arms. Joffrey’s eyebrows were furrowed, evidently using the most of his careful skills to handle the baby in his hands.
“Okay, you want to support his head, Joff. You’re doing great.” Qarl encouraged, standing close by in case Joffrey suddenly decided to drop him.
“Jace.” Joffrey whispered, for some reason. “I got you a clothes with a horse on it. And I have one, too, so we can match.”
Laenor cringed. “You’re not meant to give away the present until they open it, Joff.”
Harwin came up behind her, slinging an arm around her waist. “Spanakopita is perfect, by the way. I did a great job.”
She looked up at him and thought about how his smile reached his eyes, how his hair looked exactly like the mop Jace was born with, and how his arm felt so steady around her—so reliable. It was perfect, the spanakopita and everything else, Harwin was right.
This was enough, she decided. More than enough. Her family, her perfect family. She wasn’t missing anything.
August, 2005
“He’s been like this a while?”
“Mm, couple months now.”
Rhaenyra frowned. Sunfyre had always been finicky—like he had some sort of horse anxiety disorder. Harwin always said he had freaky eyes. But Alicent had always loved them.
Alicent. God, maybe he just missed Alicent.
Rhaenyra handed Jace to Harwin, not wanting him around the horse if he was this agitated. She nodded at the stablehand—a really sweet girl, actually—that it was okay. Rhaenyra was there when Sunfyre was born, if anyone knew how to handle him it was her.
In fact, it had to be her.
She debated for a moment about what to do.
Sunfyre was her horse. Her horse and nobody else’s, and he definitely didn’t belong to someone who would abandon her—him. It was time to move on, to accept that things would never change. This was the new reality and they had to get used to it.
But maybe it would just take more time. Maybe they could ease into it, start out small. He wouldn’t feel abandoned by that, couldn’t feel abandoned by that. Rhaenyra just needed more time, he wouldn’t be upset.
Stupid fucking choices.
Move forward. Let it rest. Try. Give up.
Her head hurt.
She stepped forward.