Chapter 1
The shouts filled the red keep with dread as a king - man grabs a maester on his neck with the words that left his lips
"An unfortunate news your grace, the princess breathes her last"
Soft and grave barely a whisper as Viserys Targaryen first of his name, king of the seven kingdoms. Falls to his knees with an anguished cry
Rhaenyra Targaryen dies at mere nine-name days old when she fell from her dragon breaking her neck after hastily leaving for the dragon pit at the scene of her lady-in-waiting, Lady Alicent wearing a woman's robe in her father's chamber.
Not nearing a year after Queen Aemma died.
The skies were dusted with blues and greys when she woke up, casting darkening shadows on her room, and the small girl rubs her eyes
She pushed aside her blanket and stood as she searched through the quaint desk beside the wall.
Finally finding what she was searching, she grabs a blank piece of paper and a pencil, before writing.
Dreams Didn't Make Us Kings. Dragons Did.
There was a man with long silver hair and a dangerous glint on his purple eyes, irises ringed with fire.
She dreams often, of scales beneath her palm, and harsh winds on her face as her pale hair whipped scathingly from her back.
She dreams of a girl that should have grown up, and also the very same girl that did.
The little girl draws a memory of a man with short hair and a mimicry of gold that shadows him. She draws of fire searing in its hues; she can nearly feel its heat.
Your grace
My dear sweet girl
The Realm's Delight
Rhae-
"Sa-chan! Papa's here! " her orange crayon breaks as large hands grab her by the waist and spinned her until she was but dazed but filled with giggles
She always had dreams.
But it is always cold and distant so she never really comes to like it, she prefers the times when she wakes up, past the dreams that hunt her young mind.
Sayuri rested her head on her father's shoulder and wondered if he was too a king, with a keep and a dragon.
Though she hadn't seen him with one, their house was big even if there were no servants that she ordered in her dreams. Her dresses were thinner and shorter.
Her mother's hair was blonde like the sunlight and daisies in the garden.
Her papa hugs her to sleep
She was reading stories of people with magic past those of having dragon dreams.
Her mother's eyes were the colour of leaves in springtime, and they were alive
She prefers it that way.
Her mother was to give birth to her younger sister, perhaps a brother. Like the father of hers with silver hair, purple eyes that always seemed to drown in his own volition
But Sayuri wanted a younger sister. A younger sister that she would come to call Visenya, like Queen Visenya. Then she would deign to steal her uncle's sword, as it should belong to someone named after a woman that rules in all but name.
And perhaps if her mother would again birth a son, it would be called Aegon. And he and Visenya would rule the seven kingdoms together!
Exhalleration and excitement filled her, as she kicked down the air under her legs. Not paying attention to the dull pink-haired man that constantly walks repeatedly through the front door of the ward where his wife is giving birth.
A groan followed by a scream nearly made him convulse in his spot.
The door suddenly opens with a medic with blood still staining her arms and hands. He scrambled to the medic as she walked out of the room and he nearly shoved her aside before remembering his daughter that was beaming while looking downwards at her seat.
He gathered his daughter securely in his arms as he trudged through if filled with anxiety through the wooden doors.
He was greeted with the sight of his wife smiling down from the bundle in her arms. Her shoulders were slumped tiredly, beads of sweat still clung to her brows, but the darkened bags beneath her eyes couldn't overshadow the light of happiness in her eyes.
And at that moment he thinks she was the most beautiful with the imperfections clinging to her.
"Mama!"
His daughter squealed at the sight of her mother and he shook his head fondly and gently brought her down from his arms where the little girl delightedly ran beside the bed, scrambling to bring herself nearer the woman.
He helped his already grumbling daughter to the bed where she gently peered through the white bundle with pale pink hair nearly white peeks through the sheets. He sat himself beside his wife and the woman fully showed the sleeping infant still red with chest moving up and down entrancing everyone within sight.
"She's beautiful" is What Kizashi can only say, and his wife beams at him a laugh escaping her mouth and grimacing slightly after.
Their eldest looked curiously at the pale pink-haired babe with frowning brows
"She's ugly" sniffed the young girl, and the couple laughs at that to her bafflement
"Oh sweetheart you looked exactly like this once too," said Mebuki as she moved a hand to stray away a wispy hair on the infant's forehead. Sayuri only crinkled her brows with a disbelieving expression
"With brighter hair If I remembered correctly" adds Kizashi with a rumbling chuckle
"More louder" replies Mebuki, eyes lighting up with mischief and amusement at the growing frown on her daughter's face
"I even thought she would resemble you more with her mouth Anata"
"Clearly not, she comes to have Okaa-san's eyes though, and it seems by time with your temper"
Sayuri hasn't inherited her mother's green or father's blue, but the vibrant lilac that her grandmother whom she wouldn't have a chance to meet has.
Nor did she inherit neither their hair colours but a mixture of them, her papa assured her. It was the colour of flames that she remembers in her dreams, the fire that brought her to oblivion and whispers memories of love and pain.
But her eyes were at times the only thing familiar to her, eyes like those of the burdened king, the same shade that painted the shadow of a sacrificed Queen
"What should we name her then" Glasses of fragments shatters in front of her eyes, and Sayuri blinks rapidly and paid attention once more to her mother that now bears a tired smile
"I'm thinking of Sakura '' muses her father in this life out loud while tapping his growing beard thoughtfully. "It should be fitting, isn't it? " he says. Sayuri stared at her younger sister still sleeping soundly and Sayuri looked at the patch of pale pink hair in her younger sister's temple.
It wasn't silver but she remembers her house words. Pink was a shade of red, weren't they? But it was also the colours of the flowers that symbolises the fleeting beauty of life, the tree that stood with each passing season but would only have one breathtaking moment.
It is fitting, but Sayuri had a different name in mind
"Visenya" Sayuri pipes up between both of her parents, and the couple looks at their daughter with raised brows
"Visenya? " Repeated Kizashi while frowning at the foreign taste as he said the name. But Sayuri only nods brusquely at him
"Yes! Like Queen Visenya! "Mebuki and Kizashi shared a frown
"Queen? Dear where have you heard those" It was Sayuri's turn to frown at her mother's words
"How come you haven't heard of her? She's Aegon's sister-wife and-" Sayuri prattles on as her father placed both gentle palms on her shoulder
"Oh sweetheart pull your horses there, did you just say sister wife? " he asked with a barely expressed horror
"Did you dream of them then? " Mebuki only asked curiously with a warm wan smile. She used to constantly retell to her mother her dreams even if they were mere cracks on a surface
"Mebuki did you just hear, she said sister-wife " Kizashi shouted a half-whisper to his wife, and the woman only shakes her
"Enough now, you're going to wake up the little one here" On call the babe stirred with a whimper and Mebuki gentle coos and lulled it back to sleep, while both her husband and daughter held their breath
"Haruno Visenya" Mebuki placed a kiss on her youngest's temple "It does sound strange, but I think… It would mark her as special to the people that doesn't know that she is one"
"And she will wield dark sister" Sayuri adds, as Mebuki chuckles
"Yes, yes, she will have a dark sister"