In a world where power is everything and blood is thicker than water, Visenya must carve out her own path, not just as a Targaryen, but as the dragon she was born to be.
"The Forgotten Visenya" is a tale of love, loss, and the fire that burns withi...
The journey to Dragonstone was long and arduous, but Visenya bore it with quiet determination. The narrow, winding paths that led up to the castle seemed to stretch on forever, the steep cliffs and jagged rocks below a constant reminder of the dangers that surrounded them. But despite the treacherous terrain, Visenya found herself eager to reach her destination. She had heard so many stories of Dragonstone, of its dark halls and ancient secrets, and she was determined to discover them all for herself.
When they finally arrived, Visenya was greeted by Rhaenyra, who welcomed her with open arms. Dragonstone was a stark contrast to the Red Keep, with its cold, imposing walls and the constant scent of salt in the air. But Visenya found a certain beauty in its isolation, a sense of peace she had never known in King's Landing.
As the days passed, Visenya settled into her new life at Dragonstone. She spent her time exploring the castle and its grounds, fascinated by the history and mystery that seemed to permeate every corner. But her thoughts often drifted to the dragons that called Dragonstone home, the mighty beasts that had once ruled the skies with fire and fury. Visenya had always been drawn to dragons, ever since she was a child. She had longed to claim one of her own, to soar through the skies on the back of a dragon and feel the wind in her hair.
But there was one problem—her dragon egg had never hatched. Like Aemond, she had been given a dragon egg as a baby, a beautiful black egg that had been placed in her cradle with the hope that it would hatch and bond with her. But the egg had remained cold and lifeless, a constant reminder of her father's disappointment in her.
Yet Visenya refused to give up. She knew that there were other dragons on Dragonstone, wild and untamed, waiting for someone strong enough to claim them. And she was determined to be that someone.
One day, Visenya made her way to the Dragonmont, the dormant volcano that housed the dragon caves. The path was steep and treacherous, but she pressed on, her heart pounding with excitement and fear. She had heard tales of the dragons that lived there, of their fierce tempers and deadly flames. But she was not afraid. She was a Targaryen, a true dragon, and she would not be cowed by fear.
As she entered the dark, smoky caverns, the heat was almost unbearable. The air was thick with the scent of sulfur, and the sound of the dragons' growls echoed through the chambers. Visenya moved cautiously, her eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement.
It wasn't long before she encountered her first dragon. Vermithor, the mighty bronze dragon, loomed before her, his massive form blocking her path. His eyes glowed with a menacing light as he regarded her, his breath coming in hot, hissing gusts.
Visenya's heart raced as she stared up at the beast. Vermithor was a formidable dragon, one of the largest and oldest on Dragonstone. His scales gleamed like molten metal in the dim light, and his teeth were as sharp as daggers. For a moment, Visenya felt a wave of doubt wash over her. This dragon was far more powerful than she had imagined. How could she hope to claim such a beast?
But she quickly pushed the doubt aside. She was a Targaryen, and she would not back down. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, raising her hand in a gesture of calm.
"Dracarys," she whispered, the ancient High Valyrian word for fire.
Vermithor's eyes narrowed, his growl deepening. For a moment, Visenya thought he would attack, but then, to her surprise, he snorted and turned away, his massive form disappearing into the shadows.
Visenya let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Vermithor had spared her, but it was clear that he was not the dragon for her. She continued deeper into the caverns, her determination unwavering.
It was then that she stumbled upon Silverwing.
The silver-scaled dragon was smaller than Vermithor, but no less impressive. Her eyes were a bright, intelligent blue, and she watched Visenya with a curious tilt of her head. Unlike Vermithor, there was no hostility in her gaze, only a calm, regal presence that took Visenya's breath away.
Visenya approached Silverwing slowly, her heart pounding with anticipation. The dragon remained still, her gaze never leaving Visenya's. When Visenya was close enough, she reached out her hand, her fingers trembling slightly as she touched Silverwing's scales.
The connection was instant. A warmth spread through Visenya's body, a feeling of acceptance and belonging that she had never known before. Silverwing lowered her head, allowing Visenya to climb onto her back. The moment Visenya settled into place, Silverwing let out a mighty roar, and with a powerful beat of her wings, she took to the skies.
Visenya's heart soared as they ascended, the wind whipping through her hair, the ground falling away beneath them. She had never felt so free, so alive. As they soared higher and higher, Visenya let out a joyful laugh, the sound echoing through the sky.
For the first time in her life, she felt truly at peace. The burdens of her past, the disappointments of her father, all seemed to melt away as she and Silverwing flew through the clouds. She was no longer just a princess, no longer just the second daughter of King Viserys. She was a dragon rider, and she and Silverwing were one.
Over the next few months, Visenya spent every waking moment with Silverwing, learning the intricacies of dragon riding. She quickly mastered the commands, her bond with Silverwing growing stronger with each passing day. The people of Dragonstone soon came to respect and admire her, seeing in her the strength and courage of her ancestors.
But more importantly, Visenya found a sense of purpose, a reason to keep fighting, even when the world seemed against her. She had claimed her dragon, and in doing so, she had claimed her destiny.
And she knew, deep in her heart, that this was only the beginning.
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