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...
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It was said that when the Black Queen fell, the realm itself trembled. Once the flames of war had swept across the Seven Kingdoms, scorching everything in their path. Now, as those flames began to flicker and die, only smoldering embers remained, signaling the end of an era.
Rhaenyra Targaryen, the once-mighty queen who had dared to claim the Iron Throne, now found herself beaten, broken, and on the run. Her kingdom was lost, her forces shattered, and her allies dwindled with each passing day. Her descent from power was swift, and the cruelty of fate had left her with nothing but despair.
After being refused entry at Rosby, where even the banners of her house no longer held sway, Rhaenyra and her remaining loyalists were given shelter at Stokeworth for only a single night. The once-proud daughter of King Viserys, the first of her name to declare herself Queen, was now nothing more than a shadow of her former self. She had once ridden the great dragon Syrax,but now she trudged along the muddy roads of the Crownlands, reduced to walking with her son, Aegon the Younger, by her side. Her golden crown, which had been a symbol of her right to rule, had become nothing more than a weight that threatened to drag her down into oblivion.
The road to Duskendale was harsh and unforgiving, and with every step, Rhaenyra's hopes seemed to grow dimmer. Half of her Gold Cloaks deserted her on the journey, taking what little hope and trust remained. These were men who had once sworn fealty to her, who had raised their swords in her name, but now, with defeat looming, they turned away, seeking safety in the shadows of the enemy. Deserters were not the only threat, however. In the dead of night, a band of attackers ambushed the queen's dwindling entourage, slaying several of her knights in cold blood. Rhaenyra was forced to press onward, carrying with her the weight of their sacrifice.
When they arrived at Duskendale, it was clear that the town's loyalty to her had withered away. The gates opened to admit her, but only reluctantly, and she was allowed to stay just long enough to rest and replenish what little supplies she had left. The lord of Duskendale made it clear that she was not welcome. The green banners of Aegon II had cast a long shadow, and no lord wished to be caught aiding a queen whose days were numbered.
Rhaenyra's greatest sorrow, though, was not for herself, but for her son. Aegon the Younger, still a boy, had been forced to witness the collapse of everything his mother had fought for. She could not bear the thought of leaving him behind, though some counseled her to send him to safety, to allow him to flee and find refuge across the sea. But Rhaenyra, the mother as much as the queen, refused to part from him. They had come so far together, and if the gods willed it, they would either rise or fall together.
Desperate and without ships to take her across the narrow sea, Rhaenyra made the ultimate sacrifice. She sold her crown, the golden diadem of House Targaryen that Visenya had brought to her from their father, to a Braavosi captain to buy passage. The crown had been a symbol of her reign, a token of her claim to the Iron Throne. Now it was gone, traded for a chance to escape the fate that loomed ever nearer. With no other choice, Rhaenyra and her son set sail for Dragonstone,the ancestral seat of her house. There, she hoped to find salvation in the form of the dragon eggs that still lay within the vaults of the island.
