"The one who listens to the whispers of the past and the cries of the future, the one who understands that power is a burden as much as it is a gift."
house of the dragon, visenya velaryon.
multiple love interests x female original chara.
written b...
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WITHIN THE HALLS OF THE RED KEEP, the air was warm, filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and the clinking of goblets. It was a night of celebration, marking the nameday of Rhaenyra's firstborn and heir, Visenya. Her long, dark hair, intricately braided and adorned with tiny rubies that caught the light of the torches and chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling—her gown, a rich tapestry of deep red and gold embroidery, shimmered as she continued to move. The hall was filled with nobles from across the realm. None of which Visenya knew personally. Their colorful attires and movements created a vibrant mosaic. Laughter echoed from one corner of the room to the other while minstrels played lively tunes that kept the atmosphere festive. Servants moved gracefully among the guests, balancing roasted meats, honeyed fruits, and spiced wine trays. At the head of the table, her parents sat, their gaze nothing short of pride as they observed Visenya's curt nods and thank you's to the lords and ladies who approached.
At the center of the table, her Grandsire, King Viserys, rose, immediately commanding attention. Despite his ailment weighing on him, his voice still carries strength and clarity as he addresses the occupants. "Tonight, we celebrate the nameday of my beloved granddaughter, Visenya. I have no doubt she will continue to make our house proud in the years to come. May she make a fine Queen when the time comes," the hall erupted in applause, and Visenya could do nothing but hold her high as Ser Harwin had instructed her a thousand times. Her eyes met those of her Grandsire's, reflecting the affection he held. And yet, she knew his words carried significance. Weight. And she felt the pressure of his expectations settle on her shoulders like a cloak.
Nevertheless, as the applause died down and the music shifted to a lively tune, Visenya knew it was a signal of the start of the usual dance. One that she had a little issue being a part of. Despite her excitement, she gracefully departed from the head table, her gown swirling around her with every step. As the guest began to form the two respective lines, Visenya found herself in the middle of one, the corners of her lips twitching as she tried to conceal her excitement. While Jacaerys practiced his swordsmanship and Lucerys played with his wooden horses, Visenya dove into the world of arts—
