She was a girl whose identity got lost in time; taken away from her ancestors because of their own faults, but she came to claim what was rightfully hers, and with that, she found herself in the middle of chaos.
After all, she was a special girl w...
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THE EARLY MORNING found the Targaryen family enjoying for once their breakfast in peace. Smiles were scattered across the table as king Viserys enjoyed seeing his family united — even if it was just for such a small amount of time. It was no secret that as soon as they stepped out of the room they would be at each others' throats again, but the king wished things remained calm for as long as possible. It was his deteriorating health that denied him from enjoying his family's company to the fullest, as well as protecting the peace that had started getting restored lately.
The loud sound of the doors opening ceased all conversations over the table. The king looked at the soldiers who stepped inside, instantly bowing before the royals, as Otto Hightower soon followed and entered as well.
"Your Grace, I regret interrupting your meal, but a carriage just arrived from the North," Lord Hand announced, catching everyone's attention. "Your attendance at the throne room is needed."
"The North?" Alicent Hightower, or the Queen herself, was quick to question.
"My King, the unexpected guest has requested your presence..." Otto noted and paused briefly. "... and that of princess Rhaenyra."
It didn't take but a few moments for the royals to get to the throne room. The Queen insisted on following, so accompanied by her, his Hand, and his Heir, the King awaited for the guards to let the door open, and the eyes of the four fell upon the petite figure in the middle of the room.
"A child?" The Queen was the first to speak, watching intensely the girl that urged to bow before the royals. "The child is the guest?"
"Your Grace—" The girl was quick to greet looking like a scared dog as the King walked past her, but her sentence was quickly cut once Otto started speaking.
"Behold, king Viserys, first of his name—"
"Lord Hand, I believe such formalities are pointless," Rhaenyra was quick to speak up, having fixated her gaze on the girl as well. "What's your name, little girl?"
"My name is Visenya, Your Grace," The child timidly replied, lowering her head. The royals all furrowed their brows in confusion. Visenya? "My King—" The girl looked at the man on the throne. "—I come for the blood of Saera Targaryen, sister of king Jaehaerys Targaryen, the first of his name. You may be familiar with my grandsire, Baelor Targaryen, her son—"
"Baelor Targaryen is a bastard." Otto highlighted and Viserys shot him a look, immediately discouraging him from saying anything more. Rhaenyra tilted her head to the side, hearing for the first time about that person.
"Let the child speak, Otto." The king demanded and the lord nodded his head.
"Thank you, Your Grace," Visenya smiled kindly, fidgeting with the ring sitting on her right hand. "I am aware of my grandsire's origin, my lord. As I was saying, though, my grandsire, whom His Grace the King might have known, fathered a daughter — my mother, Vaella Targaryen," The girl paused and took a deep breath, remembering all her mother had told her she should address the king once she had to face him. "I come from the North, not as the daughter of Lord Rickon Stark, but as the daughter of a Targaryen, with pure intentions, and a request."
