Golden Crown, Iron Throne

prologue

Visenya Targaryen was not a violent child. She wasn’t aggressive or a troublemaker. But people painted her as uneducated and brutal, because it’s exactly what bastards are supposed to be. She was lucky enough to be born with the silver hair and the violet eyes of Targaryen blood, so the court couldn’t kill her at birth. Even though no one, not even her mother, knew who the father was, she was a Targaryen, and no one could say otherwise.

About a month after Visenya was born, Rhaenyra was married. Laenor treated her with respect and taught her a lot. He knew he wasn’t her father but he loved her all the same. Maybe he had that special bond with her he didn’t have with his three boys because she was the only one who looked a little like she could be his.

Visenya loved her brothers. Jacerys wasn’t even a year younger than her but he always was her little brother. They went to classes together, learnt how to fight together and everything they needed to know. Because she wasn't a princess, Visenya could do whatever she wanted, and her love for wielding lessons was probably one of the reasons the people nicknamed her “Visenya the brutal, princess of nothing”.

As a child, she often met with Helaena Targaryen. She was four years younger than her but they always had a very strong bond. Alicent however, never agreed to this relation. She avoided Visenya like the plague and would sneak a mean comment to her or her brothers anytime she was alone with them.

She didn't like Alicent. She was mean and stupid and annoying. But her kids were nice. She loved Helaena, liked Aegon and tolerated Aemond. She didn't know much of Daeron but she had heard he was nice. Aegon teased her all the time, but nicely, more softly than anyone else. He didn't want to become a king and she could see it, everyone could. It was her mother's throne and no one else's.

Visenya loved her mother. She was nice and good to her. She never missed an occasion to tell her how much she meant to her and one time, even though she had sworn she didn't know who her father was, she had stroked her hair gently and told her she had the same smile as him.

She often felt like she didn't belong in the castles. People whispered about everything, her appearance, her ways of being, her father and many other things. She didn't care but it quickly became annoying when servants would run away at her sight and yell ''the brutal bastard!''.