When Visenya Velaryon was born paler than the winter snows barely six moons after the wedding of Rhaenyra and Laenor, the whispers started there. Bastard. No matter how hard Rhaenyra tried to claim she was Laenor's daughter, her resemblance to Daemo...
personally one of my fave chapters to write and one I was excited to write.
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After that night, her last in King's Landing, she grew hopeful. Rhaenyra made the decision to move her family to Dragonstone after Harwin was sent away, and Visenya grew excited to be on an island of unclaimed dragons.
Visenya flew with Laenor on Seasmoke to the island and walked behind her parents as she approached the castle. She always thought that Dragonstone was just big enough for the castle but she never noticed the few villages it had. Small villages but people were still content with their life there.
And then there was the dragon mount, the only place she was interested in. She ran past her parents and down the steps, running in the direction of the mountain.
"Visenya!" Rhaenyra called.
"I got her," Laenor handed Joffrey to Rhaenyra and ran after her.
She grew tired by the time she reached the entrance to the cave and smiled as she entered. For once, she felt like the free-spirited girl her mother once was.
"Visenya!" Laenor called. She went further into the cave before her father could stop her. It was dark and smelled like mold, the dark making it hard for her to even spot the dragons.
Suddenly the cave lit with fire and two dragons moved forward, both staring down at the young girl. Dear ran through her veins but the prospect of claiming one of them countered the fear with pride.
Just as she stepped forward, she saw both of them widen their maw and suddenly she realized what was about to happen. Laenor wrapped his arms around her waist and they both fell to the ground as the two dragons unleashed all fire they had to offer.
"Fuck," Laenor cursed and sat up once the two dragons retreated back to their cave. "I swear you are going to die trying to claim one."
Visenya looked at her arm and noticed it caught part of the flames. She could smell her flesh burning but she had too much adrenaline to even feel it. She watched the flame sizzle out on her skin and the layers bubble up with the effects of an awful burn.
"Visenya!" Laenor gasped and stared at her arm. "We need to get you to the Maester."
"It's ok, I don't feel it," she said.
Laenor rose a brow. "Well, if you never claim a dragon I at least know you are a dragon. It's always been a legend that only a couple of Targaryens in our history has been immune to fire but that means they never burned. You though, young lady, have a high-degree burn that needs to be treated.
She huffed and stood up, a dull ache beginning in her arm. "Did you know which ones those were?"
"The one with the Pearlescent scales was Silverwing and the darker one was Vermithor. They are mates and thus more nest together."
