The air was laden with the salty scent of the sea, mingling with the distant, mournful cries of dragons as Visenya and her noble kin stood solemnly upon the wet rocks of Driftmark, drenched by the morning's high tides. The sombre tableau was framed by the grey sky and the ceaseless crash of waves against the jagged shore.
Laenor Velaryon, Visenya's father, was a figure of profound grief, his hands clasped tightly upon his daughter's shoulders. His sorrow was palpable, a stark contrast to the imposing majesty of the island. The death of his younger sister, Lady Laena, weighed heavily upon him, a burden made all the more poignant by the distance Visenya herself had from the departed.
Though she had never met Lady Laena in life, Visenya had been steeped in her father's tales of her valour and spirit. Laena, the dragonrider of legend, had been but 13 when she claimed Visenya Targaryen's dragon, Vhaegar--a feat that had inspired awe and reverence in Visenya. It was a story her father had often recounted, his voice tinged with pride as the bravery they purportedly shared.
Visenya's silver hair, caught by the relentless wind, fluttered like a silken banner against the sombre backdrop. Her violet eyes, sharp and contemplative, wandered over to the faces of mourners surrounding her. Each expression was a mirror of grief, their silent attributes to a life extinguished too soon.
As Visenya's gaze lingered over the mourners, her head turned to Aemond, who stood close beside her. His presence was a comforting constant amidst the sea of sorrow. as knights meticulously prepared the wooden casket that held Lady Laena, readying it for its solemn descent into the embracing depths of the sea. As Vaemond Velaryon began his speech, his voice a resonant echo against the waves, their gazes shifted away from one another, drawn to the stirring words of tribute and remembrance.
"...Salt courses through Velaryon blood," Vaemond continued, his gaze directed at Visenya and her two brothers. "Ours runs thick. Ours runs true."
Visenya's gaze shifted to her mother, Rhaenyra, sensing an unfamiliar discomfort radiating from her. Vaemond's words seemed to pierce through the facade, highlighting the unspoken truth of her brothers' impure lineage.
"And ours must never thin," Vaemond concluded, his voice firm and resolute, a declaration that echoed the enduring pride and steadfastness of House Velaryon. Suddenly, the loud, boisterous laughter of her mother's uncle shattered the solemnity, causing everyone to turn their attention towards him. The unexpected outburst cut through the tension, redirecting the focus and momentarily lifting the heavy atmosphere.
As the momentary distraction faded, Visenya watched as the knights used ropes to push Laena's casket into the ocean, the wooden vessel slowly sliding into the cold embrace of the sea. The sound of the waves mingled with the creaking of the ropes, a solemn accompaniment to the final farewell. She let Vaemond's speech fade into the background, a single tear dripping down her cheek...
Visenya stood at the edge of the balcony, her slender frame leaning against the cold stone as she watched the ominous figure of the Cannibal soar overhead. The monstrous dragon's shadow cast a dark pall over the landscape a testament to the fierce power she had dared to claim as her own.
From afar, Alicent Hightower and Ser Criston Cole observed her with a keen interest. Alicent's gaze was calculating, while Criston's was filled with resentment.
"She must be impossibly stubborn to claim such a beast," Criston remarked, his tone dripping with derision.
Alicent, However, saw beyond his contempt. "We could harness her strength and that of her dragon to our side... if it comes to that," she mused, her voice a quiet ripple in the tension-filled air.
Criston sneered, his expression hardening. "That wild girl is nothing more than a reckless upstart, unworthy of her lineage. Much like her mother."
Alicent's eyes narrowed slightly, a knowing glint shimmering within them. "Call her what you wish, Ser Criston, but you and I both know the truth."
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Fanfictionš¹rom my blood, come the prince that was promised. In which Visenya Velaryon is declared Rhaenyra's rightful heir, yet faces an uncertain fate when bound in marriage to the very one who usurped her mother's throne. Aemond and Aegon Targaryen ( cove...
