Chapter Text
The background music was soothing, and Rhaenyra allowed herself to relax. Her fingers gently stroked Syrax's soft fur, and she could hear her parents' laughter. It took Rhaenyra a few minutes to realize it was a dream. She could no longer hear her parents' laughter. They were gone, dead for years, but still, she had these dreams.
The three of them were relaxing on the porch at home, listening to blues (her mother's favorite genre) and sipping mimosas as the morning sun warmed their skin. Rhaenyra loved those moments. Moments when she was just Rhaenyra. The only daughter of the President and CEO of the Targaryen Company, the largest investment firm in Westeros, and his brilliant wife.
In those moments, she wasn't the heir to anything, wasn't the child prodigy who entered college at ten years old, wasn't considered the best pianist in Westeros, and didn't have to worry about meeting everyone’s expectations. She was just Rhaenyra. Just a 14-year-old girl who dreamed of repeating that morning every Sunday for the rest of her life.
Maybe it was because that had been the last Sunday she sat on the porch with her parents, drinking mimosas and listening to music, that Rhaenyra had this dream almost every night. A beautiful dream that always ended in a nightmare. Aemma screamed in pain on the way to the hospital. The baby wanted to be born, and her mother’s body succumbed to the premature birth. It was so rare for omegas to die in childbirth, and yet her mother died. Her brother didn’t even get to open his eyes; his heart stopped beating first.
Aemma and Baelon died two hours apart.
It felt like taking two shots in quick succession. The last time Viserys hugged Rhaenyra was in the hospital hallway when the doctor said her mother had died. When the news about her brother came, Viserys had already left. Not physically. Physically, her father lived for another six years. It was his soul that departed with Aemma. Viserys was 27 years older than his wife. Many said she married him only for the money. After all, why else would such a beautiful and talented omega (Aemma was a pianist and singer) marry someone so much older if not for money?
Rhaenyra had lived 14 years with her mother to know it was love. Aemma loved Viserys. She loved his strengths and his flaws. It was apparent how he could make her smile when no one else could. She had a smile that was just for Viserys. And he did everything in his power to keep that smile on his wife’s face. Viserys remained faithful even after Aemma's death. He refused to live after losing his omega. Those were the six worst years Rhaenyra could have imagined living.
Losing her mother was a cruel twist of fate, but watching her father give up on life right in front of her eyes and being unable to help him was worse. The tears that came with her father’s death were tears of relief. He would rest now, and if the Gods allowed it, next to her mother. Viserys would no longer suffer, and maybe Rhaenyra would finally have a chance to live. As much as her rational side told her everything was fine and this was for the best, Rhaenyra couldn’t avoid the overwhelming feeling of loneliness that took over her life. She was an only child. There were no siblings to share the pain or the good memories. Sure, she had uncles, aunts, and cousins, but it wasn’t the same.
She found herself paralyzed by the deep pain. She no longer had reasons to play, draw, or write. She no longer had reasons to continue. Rhaenyra was on the verge of giving up on life, ready to end it, when she met Mysaria. The alpha was everything Rhaenyra needed: a shoulder to cry on, a good listener, a companion, and someone who made her forget the pain of being alive while her family was gone. It was the start of a dream, the starting point for a new life, the beginning of a nightmare.
It took two months for Mysaria to hit Rhaenyra for the first time. Jealousy was the reason. Rhaenyra spent the night crying, and the next day, Mysaria swore it would never happen again and that it was just a moment of losing control. An excess of protection. She loved Rhaenyra too much, and the thought of another alpha near her made her lose her mind.
Rhaenyra forgave her. After all, it was love, and alphas are possessive of their omegas. Even though she knew, deep down, that the situation would repeat itself, Rhaenyra chose to believe in the illusion.
The abuse continued. Her cousins Addam and Laenor intervened. They threatened Mysaria, and for two weeks, everything was paradise. Until Daemon found out. The alpha stormed into Rhaenyra’s house with his son Aegon and dragged Mysaria out, punching and kicking her. There were no threats, no words exchanged between the alphas. They beat Mysaria and made Rhaenyra move in with Daemon and his wife.
Rhaenyra was almost there. Almost free from the toxic relationship. There were no more marks of violence on her body. Her mind was accepting that what she had lived through was in the past and not her fault. Therapy was helping, as was the family that supported her. She felt again that everything would be okay, that she could start over again. She returned home to her life, and the first time she was alone in months, Mysaria returned.
Not with an apology but with the fury of having lost. It was the worst beating Rhaenyra had ever endured. Her face became unrecognizable. Her hands were broken, and she was raped. All the effort toward a fresh start went down with a single blow.
Rhaenyra never asked how she was found or by whom. She woke up in the hospital with her aunt by her side. While she was hospitalized, someone from the family was always with her. Her recovery took place at Rhaenys’ house. It was her aunt who gave her Syrax, an emotional support dog. She was the first to make Rhaenyra smile again. Her aunt helped Rhaenyra secure a position as a professor at King’s Landing University. And only after achieving all this did she return to living alone again. This time, more locks were on the door, and a panic button was installed in her room.
Mysaria disappeared. Rhaenyra doesn’t know if she was imprisoned or if her uncle killed her. She’s always suspected the latter but never wanted to know. She already had nightmares to remind her of the woman. She already had the trust issues, the therapy sessions, the bad days — she didn’t need anything more added to that.
As always, when her parents' dreams ended with the nightmare of Mysaria, Rhaenyra woke up to Syrax on top of her, barking to wake her up.
I’m here, — her sleep-heavy voice said to calm the dog. —It’s over.
____________________________________________________________
Rhaenyra and Syrax left home late that day. She sent a message to her aunt saying she would go straight to her classroom and meet her afterward. Her first class as a free drawing professor was amazing. Rhaenyra had a group of enthusiastic students eager to learn. Being there made her feel good about herself, and she was confident that she would do an excellent job with those students.
The second class, however, was terrible. Her students decided to challenge the new Professor with inappropriate questions, and some alphas even tried flirting with her. As much as Rhaenyra wanted to scream and run out crying, she smiled and hinted that she would make their lives a living hell. The threat wasn’t well-received, but she didn’t care.
It was lunchtime, and Rhaenys wasn’t in her office. Rhaenyra walked in, released Syrax's leash, and began tossing paper balls into the trash, like a basketball game. She needed to distract herself before her aunt arrived and figure out how she would make those arrogant, brainless alpha students regret treating her like that.
— Hello, who let you in here? — A strange voice pulled Rhaenyra from her revenge plan. First, she noticed the scent—mint and coffee—an alpha.
Rhaenyra turned impatiently in her chair. She’d already had her fill of alphas trying to act superior. However, her sharp retort died in her throat. The alpha, of course, had to be a woman—and she was the most beautiful woman Rhaenyra had ever seen.
She was slightly taller than Rhaenyra, but not by much. Her expressive brown eyes and heart-shaped lips seemed made to be kissed, and her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders did nothing to help Rhaenyra's sudden gay panic.
—Did you hear me? Who permitted you to be here? — The alpha spoke more firmly now, crossing her arms and moving closer to the desk.
Rhaenyra shook her head and stood up, smiling sideways.
—The dean.
—What? — The disbelief on the alpha’s face was almost irritating. Almost.
— I’m Rhaenyra Targaryen. Rhaenys is my aunt. I came to have lunch with her. She’s not here, so I’m waiting.
— Okay, Rhaenyra, but you still can’t be in a professor’s office without them present. There’s a waiting area in the department office for students. No exceptions, — the alpha said, pointing to the door.
Of course, she mistook Rhaenyra for a student. Who wouldn’t? Rhaenyra was 23, the age when most students were choosing their graduate programs. There weren’t other professors her age, at least not here.
—I…
—Rhaenyra! — Rhaenys interrupted her niece’s reply. — I’m so glad you’re here. How was your first day? — The eldest Targaryen approached her desk, placing her materials on top. She smiled at the alpha. — Professor Hightower, how were your first classes? Everything okay?
—Yes, everything went as planned, Mrs. Targaryen, — Professor Hightower replied.
Rhaenyra knew the name was familiar, but couldn’t remember from where.
— My first class was amazing; the second was full of arrogant, brainless alphas. I hated them!
Rhaenys gave her niece a long look and sighed. She glanced at the alpha and smiled. —Perhaps you can help me here, Professor! My niece is teaching for the first time, and as you can see, she’s not very tactful with the students.
—Teaching? — Professor Hightower looked directly at Rhaenyra. The omega smiled and shrugged.
— Yes, she’s our new free drawing professor. — Rhaenys smiled. She grabbed her bag and adjusted it on her shoulder. —Rhaenyra, since you only had morning classes today, why don’t you sit in on Professor Hightower’s lectures? She’s one of our best professors. You’ll learn a lot from her. And Alicent, darling, if you could do me the favor of showing my niece around the university, I’d be even more grateful. She was late this morning, and now I need to have lunch with the dean and get more funding for our department!
Rhaenys finished speaking as she walked out the door, leaving no chance for either of the two professors to respond directly to her.
—You’re a professor? — Professor Hightower, Alicent, as Rhaenyra heard her aunt call her, asked.
—I would’ve said something if I had the time.— She smiled. —Rhaenyra, free drawing professor.— She extended her hand to the alpha.
—Alicent Hightower, Romance, and Literature.— She took Rhaenyra’s hand gently. The omega also noticed that the alpha began controlling her scent, reducing its intensity. It was as if she didn’t want to impose on Rhaenyra.
—Hightower... I feel like I know that name from somewhere. Are you famous?
Alicent laughed, but it was without joy.
—My father works for your family’s company. He’s a suck-up. You’ve probably seen him kissing your uncle’s ass at some event.
—Otto or Larys?— Rhaenyra smiled, recalling the last event she had been forced to attend and how those two men spent the entire night trying to get her uncle’s attention.
—Otto,— Alicent replied reluctantly. —Shall we begin the tour of the university?
Sensing that her father was a sensitive topic, Rhaenyra agreed. She grabbed Syrax’s leash and followed Alicent.
—What’s his name?— the alpha asked, pointing to the dog.
—She’s a girl. Syrax. You can pet her if you want.
—Really? Won’t it interfere with her work...?
—Nah, Syrax is an emotional support dog, not as restricted as service dogs. But thanks for asking permission first. Not everyone does!
Alicent knelt in front of Syrax to pet her. The golden retriever loved the attention, even returning the affection with some licks. While this unfolded at her feet, Rhaenyra glanced around and noticed the alpha’s surname on the door across from her aunt’s office.
—You have your own office?
—All professors do.
—I don’t.
—I’ll find one for you!— The alpha smiled and pointed down the hallway. —I’m in charge of the art department, so it’s my job to get you a room.
—You’re the boss!— Rhaenyra laughed. She squeezed Syrax’s leash, trying to contain her emotions at that moment. Alicent was gorgeous, a literature professor, an alpha, and now her boss. The complete package for Rhaenyra to run in the opposite direction.
—Your aunt is the boss. I handle the art and literature professors and students.
—Boss.— The omega grinned, noticing the alpha’s flushed cheeks.
Alicent shook her head and walked with Rhaenyra down another hallway. Along the way, they met other professors, and all of them were friendly—some a bit too much, in Alicent’s opinion—toward the omega. Not that she wished the other professors would be rude to Rhaenyra, but many were more enchanted than necessary with the new Professor. Alicent didn't know exactly what had happened to Rhaenyra, but she remembered very well the days when Rhaenys had requested leave last year to care for her niece.
She was confident it had something to do with an alpha. She had accidentally overheard Rhaenys on the phone, and the coordinator seemed overly worried about her niece's health, cursing an alpha who had left Rhaenyra in that state.
So, when all the alphas, betas, and omegas professors were overly kind to Rhaenyra, Alicent couldn't resist the urge to push them all away from the omega. It was impossible not to sense the smell of panic that Rhaenyra was exuding. In the way she gripped Syrax's leash tightly, how her smiles were forced, and how, now and then, she would brush against Alicent.
—I'm so happy to see you here, Rhaenyra,— Criston Cole said victoriously. He ignored Alicent, his eyes fixed on Rhaenyra. —If you need anything, anything at all, you can come to me. You'll love being back at the university, though from the other side this time.
—Thank you, Criston. Seeing a familiar face here that isn't a Targaryen is good!— Rhaenyra was sincere in her response. She had studied with Criston in art school. He was an alpha different from most—sensitive, kind, polite, and always very well-scented. There was even a time when Rhaenyra felt attracted to Criston, just like all the omegas in their class, but she was very young, and Criston never tried to force a relationship with her, as she was underage at that time.
Then, life happened. Rhaenyra lost too much, and time eventually distanced them. The last time she had seen Criston was when her father died, and he had come to offer his condolences. That was two years ago.
—It's terrific to see you again, Rhaenyra,— Criston said. —Have you had lunch yet? I'm heading to lunch now; we could go together!
Rhaenyra looked at Alicent, and she couldn't decipher what she saw. It seemed like Alicent was ready to jump on Criston and strangle the man. The scent the alpha had been containing until now suddenly surged toward Rhaenyra like a giant, uncontrollable wave.
—What do you think, Alicent? Do we have time for lunch before your class?
—Actually, we'll have to grab something simpler!— Alicent lied. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was lying and pulling Rhaenyra away from Criston, but she was, and now it was too late to turn back. —Class is about to start soon.
—Are you going to attend Professor Hightower's classes?
—No, my aunt asked me to sit in on Alicent's classes to learn from her.— Rhaenyra gave a weak smile. Alicent was jealous. Rhaenyra's heart started to race. Memories of Mysaria's actions, possessiveness, and excessive jealousy. —We should go, see you around, Criston.
Rhaenyra didn’t wait to hear a response or see how the alphas would say goodbye. She tightened her grip on Syrax's leash and almost ran toward the bathroom. She tried to lock the door behind her, but her hands were already failing. Cold sweat ran down her face, and Rhaenyra collapsed to the floor, hugging her legs and letting Syrax lie beside her. She focused on her dog's scent, which should bring her back to reality. To remind her that everything was okay. That she didn’t need to fear anything.
—Rhaenyra?— The bathroom door opened, and Alicent walked in. The scene before her broke her heart. —Hey, Rhaenyra!
The alpha knelt beside the omega and gently ran her hand through her hair. Syrax didn’t move, and Rhaenyra didn’t open her eyes.
—Rhaenyra, do you need any medication?— Alicent asked in a soft and calm voice. The omega shook her head. —Okay. Can I help you?
Rhaenyra opened her eyes. The tears were already there. She was trembling, her body desperate to find air.
—Hold my hand.— Alicent kept her voice steady. She took one of Rhaenyra's hands and placed the other directly on her chest. —Follow my breathing.
With one hand gripping Alicent's and the other pressed against the alpha's chest, Rhaenyra began to refocus. Air found its way into her body. The trembling stopped. Now, there were only the tears.
—Nyra?— Alicent said after a moment of silence. Her eyes met the omega's. —Can you tell me five things you see around you?
Nyra. No one had ever called her that before, but she liked it.
—You, — Rhaenyra said, her voice choked with emotion. —Syrax, the floor, my hand, the mirror.
—Good girl. Now, tell me four things you hear.— Alicent noticed how Rhaenyra shivered when she praised her. The alpha made a mental note to be careful with her words around the omega.
—Your voice, Syrax’s breathing, the pipes, voices of other people.
—Very good. Can you tell me three things you can feel right now?
—The floor, my hands, you.— Rhaenyra fixed her gaze on Alicent.
—I can feel you, too. You’re here, you’re safe, nothing bad is going to happen. I promise.— The alpha held Rhaenyra’s gaze. It was the omega who looked away first. Alicent helped Rhaenyra sit up, and for a moment, they sat there with their hands intertwined, though the omega couldn’t bring herself to look at the alpha anymore.
—Thank you,— Rhaenyra said, breaking the silence. —Are we late for your class?
—We have time, don’t worry.
—You told Criston we didn’t. Your scent… You were jealous!— Rhaenyra didn’t want to accuse her like that, but she also didn’t want to have a panic attack on her first day at work and end up on the bathroom floor.
—Rhaenyra, I…— Alicent closed her eyes and exhaled. —I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you feel guilty or intimidated by my presence. I just… well, I got jealous of the attention they were giving you. How no one noticed you were uncomfortable. Forgive me for everything.
—It’s okay, you were right, I was uncomfortable.— Rhaenyra gave a faint smile.
— I’m sorry. You don’t have to attend my class or stay near me. If you want, I have Criston’s contact info, and I can give it to you. You could arrange to meet him for lunch. I just… I don’t want to see you upset again.— Alicent’s words were sincere. The last thing she wanted was to see Rhaenyra go through that situation again.
—I’d rather attend your class.— The omega smiled shyly and looked at their still intertwined hands. —You’re good at this. How did you know what to do?
—My mother.— Alicent stood up and extended her hand to Rhaenyra. As soon as the omega stood, she continued. —When she left my father, it was very hard for her. Everything reminded her of him, the good and the bad. She started having panic attacks almost daily. My brother is an omega, and he wasn’t doing much better than she was, so I had to learn to care for both of them.
—Otto is a jerk, just like my uncle always said,— Rhaenyra commented as she washed her face. She saw Alicent consider what to say about her father in the mirror's reflection.
—Personally, calling him just a jerk is still a compliment.
—I’m sorry.— The young omega stood face-to-face with Alicent. —I… well, I was always closer to my mom, and usually, alphas are more attached to their alpha sire, so… I’m sorry.
—It’s okay. Otto did one good thing in the whole story.
Rhaenyra raised her eyebrows, waiting for the alpha to elaborate.
—He made me the opposite of him. And…— Alicent smiled. —He succeeded. We’re nothing alike.
—So, he did two good things.
Now it was Alicent’s turn to be puzzled by what Rhaenyra meant.
—He made you, and he made you different from him.
For the first time since entering that bathroom, Rhaenyra smiled sincerely. She knelt to pet Syrax and thanked her for her care during the panic attack while Alicent stood there, watching the two of them and thinking about how she never wanted to be away from Rhaenyra again.
—-----------------
Alicent Hightower’s classroom was quiet even before she arrived.
Not out of fear — but expectation.
Rhaenyra noticed it the moment she took a seat at the back of the room, Syrax lying calmly at her feet. The students spoke in low voices, organizing notebooks, adjusting tablets. It felt nothing like the chaotic energy she had sensed earlier that day in her second class. Here, no one tested boundaries.
They waited.
The door opened.
Alicent entered with steady steps, posture straight, expression composed. There was no stiffness to her presence, but there was control — the kind that didn’t need to be enforced because it had already been earned. She placed her books on the desk, let her gaze linger over the room for a second longer than necessary, and then spoke.
— Good afternoon. It’s good to see some new faces here.
The class responded in unison.
Rhaenyra rested her chin in her hand, watching. There was something hypnotic about the way Alicent occupied the space. She never raised her voice, never relied on exaggerated gestures — and yet, everyone listened.
— Today we’re going to talk about romantic narrative as a political construct — Alicent continued. — Not about idealized love, but about choice. About who is allowed to love, and who pays the price for it.
Something tightened in Rhaenyra’s chest.
Alicent moved slowly across the front of the room, referencing authors and historical periods, dismantling familiar concepts with surgical precision. When one student tried to interrupt her with a shallow provocation, she merely tilted her head and replied with a sharper question, leaving him without an answer.
There was no humiliation.
Only intelligence.
Rhaenyra smiled to herself.
She found herself wondering if, had she been taught by people like this when she was younger, some scars might have healed differently. Maybe she would have learned sooner that authority didn’t have to come paired with fear.
By the end of the lecture, the students filed out, animated and talking over one another. A few curious glances were thrown Rhaenyra’s way, but no one approached. Alicent waited until the room was empty before turning to her.
— So, what did you think?
— You’re… really good at this — Rhaenyra replied honestly. — They respect you. And… I think I’m going to study this subject.
Alicent smiled softly, a trace of exhaustion beneath it.
— Respect is built over time. And with clear boundaries. — She looked at Rhaenyra more intently. — There will always be someone who challenges you. That’s natural. What matters is how you respond.
Rhaenyra nodded. Boundaries. The word still carried weight, but for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel threatening.
— And as for attending my classes — Alicent added — you’ll always be welcome.
— Good.
Rhaenyra tore a few pages from the notebook she had grabbed mid-lecture.
— The first essay you assigned.
Alicent blinked.
— You’ve already written a thousand words on literary and political romance? And the references?
— I didn’t count, but it’s more than a thousand. You gave the references. You mentioned all of them while explaining.
Alicent faltered.
— You… how…
She stopped herself. She had never had a student turn in handwritten work, let alone one that cited the exact references she had used in class. That was what search engines were for — so students could submit mediocre papers she barely skimmed.
— Do you want it typed? — Rhaenyra asked, reaching for the pages. — I can send it tonight if you’d prefer.
Alicent pulled the paper just out of her reach.
— No. I want to read it like this. I’m just surprised. No student has ever done this.
— Turned in an assignment?
— Paid attention to everything I said — Alicent replied, still stunned.
She skimmed the pages quickly enough to tell it was very good.
— Well — Rhaenyra said without thinking — it’s hard to pay attention to anything else when you’re around.
She only realized what she’d said when she noticed the faint flush rising on Alicent’s cheeks. For a moment, Rhaenyra considered correcting herself, but she didn’t want to lie.
It truly was impossible to notice anything else when Alicent was in the room.
— Would you like me to walk you home? — Alicent asked carefully. — Only if you want to.
— Yes, as long as you don’t mind dog hair on the seats.
Rhaenyra smiled, glancing at Syrax, who seemed to smile back at Alicent.
They walked together toward the university exit, the late-afternoon sun warming the campus. Students passed them, laughing, living.
The drive was quiet, but comfortable. Alicent kept both hands on the wheel, respecting every invisible space between them. Syrax slept in the back seat. When they arrived, Alicent turned off the engine and looked at Rhaenyra.
— If you need anything…
— I know — Rhaenyra said softly. — Thank you. For today.
Rhaenyra stepped out of the car quietly, guiding the drowsy Syrax with her. Alicent nodded once and drove away without pressing further.
At home, Rhaenyra took a hot shower, ate something simple, and tried to convince herself she was safe. She locked the doors. Checked the windows. Activated the panic button. Syrax followed her into the bedroom.
When she finally lay down, exhaustion won.
The dream came quickly.
She was back on the balcony. The Blues were playing softly. Her mother’s laughter. Gentle sunlight. For a moment, everything was whole.
Then the sound changed.
Sirens. Screams. The metallic scent of fear.
Hands gripping her arms. Voices accusing. Too much weight against her body. She tried to scream, but no sound came. Tried to move, but she was trapped.
— You belong to me.
Rhaenyra woke with a gasp, heart racing, skin slick with sweat. Syrax was already on top of her, licking her face, whining softly.
— I know… — Rhaenyra whispered, wrapping her arms around the dog. — It’s over. It’s over.
But deep down, she knew.
Some nights would still be long.
And for the first time since everything had fallen apart, she wondered — with fear and hope tangled together — whether allowing someone to stay close might one day make those nights less lonely.