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A hundred years of a dull existence passed in the blink of an eye for Rhaenyra Targaryen, and with each passing year, she learned different ways to kill. Some humans died easily, leaning to the brink of death and only a string of will to survive was left behind. Not once one held strong enough as she sank her teeth deep. The other times, a rare being did, but she chose to listen to her hunger first. More than once she did find those who tested their courage, yet she had her fun alone.
Those memories of wandering around the castle taught her many things and tonight was no different. A pale moonlight shines her path as she briefly counts the last moments of taking another's life. Rhaenyra doesn’t remember how many times she did this. On the other hand, this time, she wasn’t in an old dark castle with only Syrax by her side. A sly smile and hands trying so hard not to touch her whispered boring words into void.
She never had to seduce someone to the death before.
She also didn’t need to breathe anymore, but she did anyway, smelling her surroundings. The freshness of the leaves, the oak and cold breeziness following her. They were alone, and Rhaenyra didn’t even need to sweet talk the man to it. The moment they stared at each other he jumped out his seat and offered to pay her a drink and for a quiet walk. She didn’t care to get his name, only presenting him with small smiles and fake praises. Rhaenyra promised to herself to chant only one name for eternity.
“And then, after a while, I stopped crying for her. Of course, no good family man would be happy after his wife passed away…’’ His creaky voice made it present to her consciousness, rambling about a past love —Which looked more like a tortured housewife to Rhaenyra. She spared him a quick glare. How long is it going to take?
‘’She was a good woman, she knew what was good for us. For me. She would want me to move on. And here we are.’’ He stops and steps in front of her, smirking, painting a grotesque face with a pointed mustache.
Rhaenyra feels the blood rushing inside of him, coming from all the places and focusing on one specifically. So full of life and to give it away. So fast he wouldn't realize.
“Do you think she felt?”
He blinks at her, looking around confused.
“Felt what, my darling?” He comes closer, his breath stinks a terrible rum and she just knows the effect coming at her. “You said she died slowly, patiently even. Do you think she felt the kiss of death? Caressing her face to the means of being loved by death?” Memories flashed in her mind, coming to her core, a curtain of dark hair covering her, her voice sounds deep, it doesn’t surprise her.
The man tries to not roll his eyes, his self control surprised her, she’s honest with that.
“You are one weird lady, but a beautiful one. I understand what they say about the hysterics. I can definitely feel the kiss and the caress, though.”
He moves his face and tries to kiss her, but her hand stops him midway, grasping strongly his neck, stealing his last breaths. The man tries to push her, but Rhaenyra only changes their positions, bending him to her will and he starts to suffocate, whitening, painting his face and bulging eyes, pleading. She feels another cold breeze, a weight on her back and his eyes aren’t the only ones pleading.
‘’You will know what it means to be loved by death.’’
She sinks her fangs deep, ripping out his throat and the blood comes rushing at her. Rhaenyra knows she is a messy eater, she never minded that, her mouth is full in seconds, drinking what he so obligingly gives her. Then, she feels everything. His agony, pain, drunkenness and trilling moves of his heart, beating like an old drum. Dizziness fills her and she doesn't know if it comes from his rum or other thing stronger than his blood and the richests of wine and rum combined. Rhaenyra sucks it, embracing the aching and dark delight of the sin. She can’t drink him fully.
She opens her eyes and sees how he’s passed out. Not dead yet. They can’t drink from the dead. She moves her head up, staring back at the moon. ‘’Come.’’
A ghostly shadow hovers over her, the sky is deaf to her chants but not her lover. Rhaenyra waits for the last moments of the man next to her, holding him closely so her companion could feed herself, but it never comes. But then, long fangs touch her neck, a piercing sting that makes her lose her grasp on the mortal next to her and she is held by two delicate hands. One holding her waist and the other around her neck, pressing against her body. She lets out a moan and pants.
Oh, this devil.
What came after the sting was a rushing sound in her ears, where everything around her seemed to blur and all her existence cared for Mysaria and Mysaria only. They have bet before tonight’s hunt, and Rhaenyra won the bet— or at least she thought, as the dark-haired woman drinks her without the care in the world and ignoring the man beside them, she can only imagine this was part of Mysaria’s plan all along. ‘’You do know I only got this one for you, right? The blood is thicker when drank from the fountain purely.’’ Rhaenyra tried her best to be reasonable, whispering logical facts that didn’t even matter at all.
A snickering sound reached her senses first, and the woman behind her stopped drinking, licking the bloody mess on the blonde’s neck and giving a lighthearted kiss on it and her shoulder. Hm. ‘’But you taste sweeter than he could ever dream, my love.’’ Mysaria quickly shushes her and dances to her front, blessing Rhaenyra’s eyes with the vision of her lover's heavenly bloodied mouth and red dress.
Stepping over the man and eyeing Rhaenyra’s neck, Mysaria watches two small wounds, barely hurting a vampire of such an age like the blonde, but she is too fond to ignore it and whatever flick of pain Rhaenyra may feel becomes a headache for her and she needs to take care of it. She has become good at this, to feel, care and heal.
She passes a finger to Rhaenyra’s throat, guiding to where the wounds await her and caresses the area with slow action and all the care in the world. She only wanted to heal her, of course, but she would be lying if she said it was only that and the dark look the blonde gave her didn’t impact her insides. Purple eyes, dark with desire, staring at her with so much need and devotion that makes her throb. She opens her mouth to speak but Rhaenyra once again surprises her with it.
‘’I can heal myself. Do not push yourself so much, when we have so much to do yet.’’
There’s a pattern Mysaria noticed with the time spent with Rhaenyra. Her voice, normally deep and so often ruling at her victims, never leaves room for another answer. Sometimes, it’s stubbornness, years of being alone and probably pampered long years ago and Mysaria thinks it's endearing, almost. Funny. This voice never commands her. Other times, she noticed even if this particular tone is used, Mysaria just has to smile and look at her, and Rhaenyra softens up, with a pout on her lips but eyes shining. Like she has the vampire on the palm of her hands.
This time is only precaution, a need tangled with softness. She smiles.
‘’And you also know I can heal you better too.’’
She turns before Rhaenyra could even think in another witty response, yet she could feel behind her a suppressed smile as the same red eyes stared her up and down. Not now. Mysaria feels full, she normally feels like that when she feeds off Rhaenyra, but there’s difference between drinking from another vampire and an actual mortal, and she did mention the hunt first, so she should have decency to finish the man now, before it's too late. ‘’We should finish this soon enough.’’
She quickly looks behind, inviting Rhaenyra to eat with her, but the woman is on her knees, looking particularly entertained as she shakes her head. ‘’You can go ahead and have your fun. I want to watch you.’’
Mysaria nods and grabs the mortal by his collar, biting just where Rhaenyra first bit. They could be together, at least, in that way. She was right before when they talked about who had the sweeter taste, but it was enough for now. Rhaenyra hummed behind her, joining the night’s noise along with the cold breeze and some birds flying away from them, as her lover sinks her fangs until his last breath.
—————
Mysaria learned how to be thoughtful and quiet from a very young age. She barely remembers now, but hidden in her memories, she recalls her mother saying she was a loud babe. She cried, talked and everything out loud, yet, things changed when she grew enough to sneakily steal some pastries before dinner and tried not to gain her father’s attention. Vulgar man.
In her past life, before Rhaenyra and her death night, some clients preferred her to be quiet and she also listens to important things. Some others want to feed their ego, so she obliged, pretending whatever they want to hear at the moment and loud noises no one believed. It managed to work for a time, even if it meant to kill her wants, hiding inside of her because of how frightening it was to give herself bare. It was easier to hide.
Those thoughts are often distant to her, especially when she’s hunting with Rhaenyra, but some days are worse than others and they recoil inside of her, intensely moving. Rhaenyra told her, after the bliss and hazy feeling of her first night, how all human feelings are intensified when they become one with the dead. Almost to the point of madness. And then, kissing her temple, the vampire reassured that she shouldn't be worried about any of those feelings because they're together and she should never bear it alone.
Tender and always good with her words, Rhaenyra. Her Rhaenyra.
She was anxious for their night, if she listened to her own thoughts and wishes, she and Rhaenyra wouldn't even leave their castle, nestling together for days. But she noticed how the other vampire longed for their walks together around the city, after centuries confined to the Dragonstone’s castle, Rhaenyra found herself in love with meeting cities and their ways. Mysaria knows all their ways and people— traveling from city to city, and even though she knows almost everything, sometimes it’s a matter of seeing and seeing only this particular Rhaenyra.
So she yields, and they walk, only that this time she was the one responsible for the hunt. Her dress and mouth are bloody, she can’t have her fun with alluring people to their death like Rhaenyra did, therefore she can only make herself look like a ghost, patiently waiting in the middle of bridges and squares and they all fall to her hand. And not just the mortals.
Rhaenyra would sometimes brag herself for being an elder vampire and not needing to drink all the time, and tonight, once again she only watched her drink the victims who fell into her trap. Mysaria knew this was just her way of teasing, a tiny retaliation from her actions and letting her alone with that egregious man earlier. But then, at the very last victim, as she clamped her hand on the human’s neck and drank, she felt a cold grip on her waist, squeezing as she passed and finally put herself on the other side of her victim. Their victim.
She opened her eyes and was blessed with dark lilac ones already looking at her, waiting for her to notice the presence by side. Nonsense. Like Mysaria could ever ignore her. Smiling lightly at her, like she knew how much power she holds upon the dark-haired woman, Rhaenyra holds Mysaria’s face, caressing her cheeks as she sanks into the human and her lover groans at the sight. No one cares about this damned mortal, this was just to torment her and what she really wanted.
Huffing and loosely cleaning her mouth, Mysaria rises and walks away from the scene, eyeing the woman next to her. ‘’You are such a tease when you want, and even dares to call me that when you are just the same. Are you having your fun?’’ The protest sounds weak on her lips, Mysaria realizes. Which is fine since she is not angry, she only has more fun when she is the one playing.
A faint breeze touches her face as Rhaenyra speeds up and faces her up close, holding her face in strong hands, kissing the corner of her mouth. ‘’Mysaria,’’ she whispers in her ear. ‘’My most beloved.’’ Oh, she and her sweet words always work. ‘’You use loving words when you want something.’’ That was a half truth, Rhaenyra is often soft with her by any means. The vampire laughs at the gibe. A playful hand coaches her waist and pushes her closer, cold clashing with cold, and yet Mysaria could feel a burning around them.
Her eyes shine watching Mysaria, what a curious sight. She never imagined being looked up so lovingly. ‘’Are you tired already? Or maybe we could walk around more?’’ she whispers through the night, and the dark-haired woman rolls her eyes at the implication. ‘’I know I made myself clear about enjoying our time laying in our coffin, but that doesn’t mean I tire up so easily, Rhaenyra.’’
Rhaenyra shakes her head in dismissal and Mysaria caresses her face, shaking the messy hair out of her face. Eyes follow her movements and roam her body up and down. A want mixed with need. She hears a soft cry behind them and the man is still alive, barely. She waves her head towards him. ‘’Finish our mess first, my love.’’ Mysaria hums at her and reluctantly walks away. If Rhaenyra says something after that, she can barely listen as she drinks him to death, but she hears a faint voice, distant in her head.
‘’Come to me.’’
—————
A cold darkness surrounds her behinds and she is held close against Rhaenyra’s chest, securing her to her arms. Gods, she hates when the blonde does this out of nowhere. They’re fast, faster than anyone could ever realize, but Rhaenyra enjoys showing off her abilities. So, instead of walking like it was intended before, she is dragged to Rhaenyra’s dark cloak. She hears a faint sound of water flowing.
Looking at her lover for a moment and acting before Mysaria’s hands were far from her, Rhaenyra quickly grabs it and kisses her knuckles. ‘’ Can’t a woman surprise her beautiful lover anymore?’’ Mysaria laughs with her, burying her face on the vampire’s neck, mumbling something Rhaenyra doesn’t quite catch, losing herself on the other’s scent.
The blonde starts to walk away and Mysaria follows her like a shadow, there’s some mud around and fallen leaves, and they find their way to a creek, glowing by the moonlight. The river was small compared to other ones, of course, but its flowing water was a sight to see, but as Rhaenyra removed her dress in front of Mysaria, nature found its rival. The blonde turned to her, offering her hand to her lover and just like a silent prayer, whisper or promise, Mysaria quietly accepted and followed her towards the creek.
A smile colours Rhaenyra’s face with a shine in her eyes, almost like a surprise, as if Mysaria wouldn't follow her everywhere. She followed Rhaenyra’ path to death, after all.
‘’So, instead of another hunt, you wanted an excuse to rip such a beautiful dress?’’
A cold hand cradles her waist and Mysaria helps her companion to ease up her access. ‘’We were going to do this anyway.’’ She simply says with fondness painted in her voice. They would, indeed. Rhaenyra shoves little kisses on her shoulder. ‘’I liked when I was bathed, it always felt like I was being taken care of and I want to take care of you.’’ The warmth of breath hits Mysaria’ face and she shivers, aching with the need to touch the vampire.
“Oh, yes? As you can see, there’s also blood all over me.’’
“Then, the Gods were good for me, for once.’’
Her mouth is finally shut as she positions her face next to Mysaria’s neck, licking slowly and the dried blood accumulated there, hands securing her waist and gently stroking the white line in her neck. Always thoughtful Rhaenyra. Mysaria bites her lips to stifle a moan, not wanting to let it go so easily. The vampire looks at her with darkened eyes and the sight alone makes Mysaria tremble. Fingers graze her sides and she closes her eyes and breathes, welcoming the blonde’s touch.
Rhaenyra’s touch is light, at first. But with the need of a lover, conqueror or even an executioner, she touches everywhere and Mysaria receives with readiness, and how good it is to finally feel needed. Her dress is already drenched, the water follows her everywhere, yet, she concentrates on the strong hand touching her waist, the lines of her rib cage and next to her breasts. She feels Rhaenyra’s nose caressing her and opens her mouth to kiss.
Their bodies are cold, she knows that even before becoming one with Rhaenyra, but still doesn’t matter to her. Since they touch, she always feels warm in all places. Their lips meet, deeper and slower and Mysaria’s bloodied mouth paints heaven to Rhaenyra, leaving her head almost dizzy with need. She exhales and pushes herself against the vampire, and the other starts to rip the delicate pieces of the fabric. The moonlight paints her skin and Rhaenyra stops to watch her beauty in all glory, grinning at the sight.
Mysaria pouts as she misses the touch against her lips. She shakes her head and hooks her fingers into Rhaenyra’s golden belt and pulls her hips back, drinking the grunt sound the other left as their bodies meet. “Once again, you’re having your fun, aren’t you?” Her voice is raspy, she sounds so weak and almost scares her, but it’s Rhaenyra who is seeing her, then, is fine. Her lover smiles weakly, her clean mouth now way too bloodied for someone who wanted a bath. “I’m always having my fun when I’m next to you.”
Mysaria grinds her hips against the vampire’s core and smiles at another groan leaving her lips.
“I bet you are.”
There’s something different about the way Rhaenyra glances at her, like she wants to take something out of her, but if her thoughts are right, the blonde doesn't say anything. She sees Rhaenyra’s long fangs coming out of her mouth and smirks at herself, enjoying the power of her torn clothes torturing her lover. She chases red lips and first contacts Rhaenyra’s tongue, and they both moan, the sound flowing into the night. She feels a pressing force around some parts of her body and she knows Rhaenyra is again using her powers to disappear with her clothing, and as an answer to that, she feels fingers circle the inside of her thighs to her hips and valley of her breasts, ignoring the heat where she needs it most. Her mind is clouded and full of feelings because of their day, the hunt’s taste, Rhaenyra’s blood and now, a teasing arousal. She sighs and scratches her nails against Rhaenyra’s shoulders, the only piece of skin she can feel now.
The sigh made Rhaenyra watch her closely and a familiar thought came to mind, to understand what the look meant, but as she felt a brush against a nipple she lost herself and any reasoning, focusing on the thumbing of her stiffened peak. She whines out loud and regrets, biting her lover’s shoulder lightly and whispers a plea to Rhaenyra don’t tease her. The vampire swallows her whining and she melts with the touch of her lips, and for a brief moment, Rhaenyra moves away.
The hand on her thighs drags slowly and slips between her legs, burning with the heat inside and as she feels the other insistent touch on nipple, her head is clouded with pleasure. Full blown eyes look at her and Rhaenyra whispers against pursed lips. “Let me hear you, please, I want to hear you. Fill your mouth with my name.” Voice deep and longing, her Rhaenyra. Of course that was it. When Mysaria doesn't really listen to her, a hand grips her waist again.
“Look at me.”
Mysaria opens her eyes and Rhaenyra looks at her, watching her fully, dark lilac eyes and lips parted, and the sight alone makes her even more aroused, Rhaenyra’s image being enough for her. As they share one look, a finger presses against her bud, she closes her eyes and drags a loud moan. She bucks her hips towards the light touch and whines when the finger slides lower, gathering her hotness and slickness. She’s teasing, of course she’s teasing.
An uneasy hand leaves the shoulder and grabs Rhaenyra’s palm, caressing to go deeper. “Please. Please, inside, I want you inside.” She whimpers and tries to chase her pleasure. A finger slides in entirely and she throws her head back, right after a second finger enters and Rhaenyra enjoys the moment to kiss her neck, hot and wet, Mysaria feels a pooling heat rising in her body. The fingers stretch her insides, moving in and out, slowly and dragging her to madness. Mysaria arches her back and grabs a handful of blonde hair to gather herself.
Rhaenyra’s hand movement quickly builds and finds a particular spot that makes Mysaria shake, she forces her face up and cradles the vampire’s face, letting her rushed pants and groans next to Rhaenyra’s ear. She stills just in time and groans, fangs teasing to appear. So good, so beautiful to me. A distant voice sings in her head and she smiles at her lover, who’s busy thrusting fingers with a strong pace, pushing her nearer to the edge.
Mysaria matches the pace and dances along with her thrusts, panting loudly as she feels her muscles clenching and heat throbbing. Rhaenyra moves her face down, kissing and nuzzling her way to the valley of her breasts, and she feels a heated tongue around her nipple, sucking lightly until she gets used to every stimulation. Mysaria widens her eyes and leaves a sharp inhale, enjoying the heating of lover’s tongue.
Rhaenyra uses her powers to hold her again and suddenly, the pressure of it is also arousing her, while one hand strokes earnestly her special spot, the other press against her bud with a needed speed, and then, stars invade her vision and she feels the blood inside her veins burn. On the brink of Mysaria’ release, Rhaenyra lets her fangs come out and scrapes it on her breast and she bites, sinking and drinking her blood. Mysaria hears herself cry as she squeezes Rhaenyra closer to her body.
She first watches the night sky, everything is hazy and dark, the breeze paints her body and Rhaenyra stays where she is, holding her until she feels safe to move alone, yet, there’s care on her hands, holding, caressing and nuzzling. Their own personal bubble. Someone wouldn't leave this bubble so easily. Mysaria slips her fingers through Rhaenyra’s silver blonde hair, and drinks the beautiful sounds that leaves her mouth.
“I learned to be quiet since young, it was the easiest way to run away from my father’s attention.” Her voice is barely a whisper, at this point, but enough to break their moment. Rhaenyra rests her head on her chest, listening quietly. “Of course, that didn’t stop him at the time.” She feels a firm hand on her stomach and smiles.
“After running away and hiding through the streets of Lys, I became good at hiding. Everything. It made me survive.”
Rhaenyra finally looks up and gives her a chaste kiss.
“From the moment I saw you I wanted everything from you, in hollow nights, ghostly days and dull centuries, I thought about you in hazy wishes. Someone to see me. And you did. After you, everything made sense. Never hide your shadows from me.” A soft vow to eternity haunts her lips and she hopes to haunt her for the forever.
There’s already too much blood on them right now, Mysaria doesn't want her bloodied tears to be another one, so she decides to hide again. Just for tonight. “I will haunt you forever, Rhaenyra Targaryen.”
“Please, do that.” Rhaenyra breathes the bloodstained words against her lips and she knows it’s being promised out loud.