Keep me as your finish line | Rhaenyra x OC

Keep me honest

Music: Keep me - Novo Amor
...

Rhaenyra couldn't remember the first time she met Prim. For the longest time she could recall, the girl was always there at her beck and call, silent and observing, sweet and eager to help.

The first time she ever heard of Prim was when she got pregnant with Jacaerys, her firstborn. Laenor had departed to Step Stone to fight for his father, leaving Rhaenyra utterly alone in her own home.

She blamed it on the hormones or perhaps on vindicating silence, which reminded the crown princess of her mother's fate on the birthing bed –something that Rhaenyra would soon have to face on her own with no dragon able to shield her.

Rhaenyra would sit for hours at the window seal of her chamber, hands on her ever-growing belly as her eyes gazed at the sky for hours. She woke up from her slumber every morning and felt the urge to pour her heart out for no good reason other than her troubled heart.

Rhaenyra cried, and every time she did, there would be a girl with the darkest of hair standing next to her bed, waiting for her with a towel in her hand. The girl never talked or said anything about what she had witnessed.

By the time Rhaenyra had figured out that there were no rumors about her being "fragile-minded" circling around the castle or the crown princess, she let herself be vulnerable in front of the girl. The servant girl never gave her any solace, nor had she ever offered her any honey words or reassurance. Yet, by the seventh day of her morning break down, a slice of lemon cake and a cup of warm, sweet tea waited on the table. The same thing repeated every day without fail: a towel to dry off her tears, a cup of warm tea to smoothen her sore throat, and a slice of cake to warm her heart.

The princess couldn't help but notice a chest filled with her favorite sweets on her nightstand, how her favorite books from the library would appear out of nowhere and then disappear precisely after she had finished them.

It took no time at all for her to grow to expect these treats, those silent endeavors from a lovely girl, and before she knew it, Rhaenyra started to spend more time in the presence of the maid, dismissing the others in favor of her sweet little maid—the little maid, whose name she had not yet learned.

"How did you know I like this book?" She asked the girl one afternoon, breaking the peaceful silence between the two of them.

Prim had looked like a terrified deer then – mouth opened slightly, doe eyes frightened, overflown with disbelief and anxiety. Rhaenyra couldn't help but chuckle as Prim stumbled over her words "I- I- I saw you reading those books before, your grace."

"And you remember all of them?" Rhaenyra mused, watching a wave of redness creeping up Prim's neck. The girl could barely stand still: her legs were restless, her hands scratched themselves nervously and her eyes were adamant to look at everything but the princess.

"Only their cover, your grace," she responded.

"You can read, no?"

Prim shook her head shyly. "N-no, your grace..."

"And what is your name?"

"Prim... Primrose, after the flower, your grace."

Rhaenyra hummed softly, "Primrose..."

The name tasted strangely sweet on her tongue as Rhaenyra walked over the table and looked through the pile of books sitting neatly on her study table. The princess nodded in approval with each title – from the mythology of the Valyrian Freehold to the ancient Valyrian folklores – all of those were Rhaenyra's favorite.

The fifth title from the pile, however, had her hands halted. Rhaenyra's shoulder shook slightly as she giggled: "T-this book."

Prim hesitantly looked up at the princess, "Y-yes? Is it not your favorite?"