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VALAENA TARGARYEN WAS BORN on a full moon night, where the sky was clear and the stars shined, welcoming the new babe into the world as saying hello to a dear friend from a long time. She didn't cry at all, a quiet and calm girl that even shocked her own mother, already used to the screaming when she gave birth to her other children.
So when her last daughter was placed in her arms wrapped in a bundle of blankets, she couldn't help but smile, a real smile: she was so small, barely big enough to fit in her arms, her body moving alongside her breathings. The little hair at the top of her head already showing that characteristic white her other siblings had.
Alicent smiled with tears in her eyes, one of her fingers gently tracing the curve of her nose, chuckling lightly at the small babble that escaped her mouth at her touch. The mother had already fallen in love with her, with the calm that seemed to cling to her daughter making her give no sound at all.
But everything appeared to stop when the girl opened her eyes: unlike Aegon, Aemond or Helaena, she inherited the Targaryen characteristic eyes. A light lilac, gracing her features and transforming her in a miracle, in an angel sent to guide them, to give light into their lives. Alicent could't recall seeing a color as beautiful as them.
– What is her name, your Grace? – One of the midwives asked, a small gentle smile adorning her features with eyes filled with awe as they rested on the small babe. Alicent smiled, looking one more time into those lilac eyes, her heart full with love for this child.
– Valaena. Her name will be Valaena Targaryen.
And from that day, the young Valaena brought light inside the palace, all the servants greeting her everytime she walked by, their eyes lingering on her as she wandered through the halls with a small laugh following her around.
Nobody could deny that she was her father's favorite. The moment she was brought into his arms, the king's eyes shined brightly when he held her, already knowing he would do anything to keep her away from danger and the dark parts of this world. He couldn't even refuse the small similarities he could see between her and his eldest daughter Rhaenyra, making it impossible not to be wrapped around her small little fingers.
And he wasn't the only one: her older siblings seemed to have develop a strong feeling of protectiveness on her little sister: while Helaena was overjoyed to have another girl to wander with, Aegon and Aemond didn't leave her sight, always fearful of anyone or anything that could harm their baby sister. Even Aegon, who was known for his rudeness and ignorance, couldn't deny picking her in his arms when she pouted at him, a small smile making it into his face at Valaena's squeal of delight when tugging at her brother's hair.
She was adored by everyone, her innocence and pure heart warming the people's one resulting in Valaena acquiring the title of "The realm's pearl", the sight of her white dresses making her stand out in the crowd, a sign for others to know she was close.
But as with everything in life, there were exceptions: Jacaerys Velaryon couldn't stand Valaena Targaryen. If you asked him, he wouldn't know why exactly he didn't like her. Maybe because everybody seemed to be in a trance around her, letting her do what she wanted with only a small pout on her light pink lips. Or it could be due to her annoying laughter, always following him around the castle wherever he went, the sound appearing even in his dreams.
Seriously, even his younger brother Lucerys seemed to have grown quite attached to her, one might say he was a bit smitten with the Targaryen girl. More so their mother Rhaenyra, who smiled at her, having been there for her first steps, her small hands in hers as she walked to Aegon.
Jace came to the conclusion that he was the only one aware of Valaena's spell. He was the only one who noticed when she stole food from the kitchens, when she escaped during the night to the dragonpit, or when she hid her brother's daggers away.
He wouldn't fall for her charms, for her beauty. Even if she smiled at him, her lilac eyes shining with the light; or when she tugged him to play, her fingers grasping his hand in a tight grip, goosebumps growing on his skin. And even if his heart beat twice every time his eyes found her amongst the crowd, standing out from the other mere mortals like a rose on a bush full of thorns.
