VISENYA.
Growing up as the second daughter of King Viserys I Targaryen I was never really considered the favorite. I mean they didn't call my sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, the realm's delight for nothing. I was never the favorite, that was for certain. Of course father still cared for me though, that much was obvious. Since my father and mother were always too busy focusing on the affairs of my older sister, I was the one who got more of the freedom, they weren't as worried as to where I would scurry off to.
While my mother and father didn't much appreciate it, I had always seemed to find my way down to the training yard by my third name day and that very same day I had a sword in my hand. Apparently I was a very convincing three year old. By my tenth name day I was besting most of the knights in the courtyard and my father had come around to letting his kings guard train me in the ways of the sword, they were the best in the realm after all. It was said around the castle that I always had to be busy with something or I wasn't satisfied, even as a babe I had to be doing something with my hands or I would kick and scream relentlessly. I'm sure the wet nurse was joyous when I would. I've always liked to be active, the castle gets so boring.
I do get along with my sister Rhaenyra, we are very close. She has always looked out for me and I her, I do think she's jealous of the lack of attention father gives me though. Ever since mom died, father and I haven't gotten along. I don't think I've ever truly forgiven him for his persistence in so desperately wanting a male heir, she was always so tired but he never truly payed any mind to it. She was my mother too, not just his wife made to give him a son so that he may rule someday. It's hard for me to talk about, I miss her so much. I was only ten and one when she died. She was probably the kindest person you'd ever meet. You could just look into her eyes and instantly tell how much she loved you, how much she loved every single person in her life. She was just a big giant ball of light that everyone just gravitated towards. That very fact was what made it all the more difficult when she passed away. I don't think I've been able to truly get over her death, but I don't think it's possible to get over losing someone like that.
Over the years father's been getting worse, he's gotten multiple cuts on the throne and has lost a few appendages. He doesn't seem to be getting better any time soon. Nevertheless I continue to train to keep him safe from harm every day of my life. Daemon was right, he always was, that council of leaches loves to prey upon him, they suck him dry. They don't truly want to help him, they've only ever been there to look out for themselves and their own interests. They're power hungry snakes. Fuck all of them. Especially Otto Hightower, that manipulative prick. I'd have slit his throat ages ago if father would've allowed it. I've never liked him or his manipulation of his daughter, who is unfortunately now my stepmother and the mother of my two half brothers and sister.
I've always looked up to Daemon, he's unruly and unpredictable, yes, but he's wise and he can recognize a snake when he sees one. Most importantly he's not weak, he's never been weak. Daemon and I have always shared a special bond, when I was little he'd take me to Dragonstone and we'd look for clutches of eggs on the Dragonmont. He'd take me flying on Caraxes and he'd tell me about all of his adventures, I always cherished my time spent with my uncle. He was the one person in my family that seemed to really understand me. No matter how many times father sent him away he'd always write me and tell me not to worry and that he was coming back.
On my sixteenth name day my father bestowed upon me the great sword of our house, Blackfyre. It was a Valyrian steel sword of great length and fortitude, with a red sapphire at the end of the pommel and two silver dragons at the hilt. It was the sword of the conqueror, our houses ancestral sword and he'd given it to me. Only the king was to wield this sword, but in his words it would be of more use in my hands. It was heavy, but in time I learned how to wield it with ease.
When Rhaenyra was married off to Laenor Velaryon I finally got to see Daemon again, you don't know how happy I was to finally see my favorite person again. The least horrible person to be around. You can probably imagine how thrilled I was when he smuggled me out of that stuffy room filled with tons of insufferable people. We snuck through the streets of Kings Landing together that night all the way to the dragon pit. He took me for a ride on Caraxes all the way to Deagonstone, and when I asked him why we were going he told me, "I think it's time we finally get my sweetling her own dragon." And we did.
That day will be a day I will forever remember as the day I knew father would do everything in his power to keep me away from him...