104 AC
It was a very important year for the new king, Viserys, as his wife had once again begun her labors and was in the midst of birthing their child.
Viserys paced back and forth anxiously, yet excitedly, in the great halls of the Red Keep, as his wife's wails resounded throughout the corridors.
"My grace, you have no reason to be worried. You have the greatest maesters tending to the queen," said Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, calmly to Viserys. They both waited in the hall outside the bedchamber where the queen lay.
"Yes, yes, Otto, I know," the king waved him off before sighing. It wasn't just his wife that concerned him—well, it was—but his worries mostly lay with his unborn child.
"It's not that I'm worried about Aemma, it's..."
"Whether she will birth you an heir, correct?" Otto, astute as always, quickly noticed the king's concern.
Viserys looked at Otto and gave a slight nod, confirming his assumption.
"Rhaenyra is my only child, and the other pregnancies... well, they have been for naught, Otto. I have yet to produce a true heir," Viserys said, his tone heavy with disappointment and sadness. But he quickly perked up, his voice turning cheerful. "But this time, I have a great feeling—I can feel it in my bones, Otto."
Otto smiled and bowed lightly. "I'm sure the gods will see it fit to bless you with a wonderful heir."
At his Hand's reassurance, Viserys felt calmer. Soon, the queen's wails faded. A handmaiden opened the door to the bedchamber and informed both the king and the Hand that the baby had been safely delivered.
Without a moment's delay, King Viserys marched into the room eagerly and went to his beloved wife, Aemma. She was drenched in sweat and exhausted, but wore a wide smile as she gently cradled the newborn in her arms.
Viserys knelt at her bedside, placing a hand gently on her shoulder and kissing her as he looked into her eyes.
"Are you alright, my dear?" Viserys asked warmly.
Aemma gave a gentle smile and let out a soft chuckle. "I'm wonderful, Viserys. And look—we now have another beautiful little girl."
She turned the baby slightly so Viserys could see her better. At the mention of another daughter, his smile faltered for a brief moment. Disappointment swelled in his heart, but he forced it down. He would not let such feelings stain this joyous moment. A new member of House Targaryen had just been born.
He gently traced his fingers across his daughter's tiny face. At his touch, the baby let out a soft giggle, causing both parents to smile. She had the traditional lilac-colored eyes of the Targaryens, along with tufts of silver hair streaked with gold.
"I think she's taken all your best traits, my dear. Have you thought of a name for your new daughter?"
Viserys was caught off guard. He had been so set on the child being a boy that he hadn't considered names for a girl. He fumbled for a moment before settling on a name.
"Ah... how about Vhaehra? Vhaehra Targaryen," he said, smiling as he held his daughter in his arms.
At the sound of her name, the newborn eagerly reached out her hands toward her father. Viserys extended a finger, and she wrapped her tiny hand around it.
"Well, I think she quite loves the name, my dear. Vhaehra Targaryen... a wonderful name befitting a princess of the realm," Aemma said as her eyes began to grow heavy with sleep.
Noticing her exhaustion, Viserys handed Vhaehra off to one of the wet nurses and gently told Aemma to rest.
---
As per Targaryen custom, a dragon egg was placed in Vhaehra's cradle. The egg had come from Dreamfyre, and its scales were black with sapphire-tipped edges.
Within only half a year, the egg hatched. Vhaehra claimed the hatchling as hers that very night—but something strange happened as well. Her eyes, once the traditional Targaryen purple, turned into a vibrant cyan.
Viserys and Aemma summoned the maesters to examine their daughter. She was perfectly healthy, with no signs of illness, but even the learned maesters were baffled by the sudden change. Their only conclusion was that the hatching and bonding with the dragon had somehow caused it.
She had always been close to her dragon, spending as much time as she could with it while still keeping up with her studies. She named the dragon Bahamut at age five and took her first flight at six—against her parents' wishes, who insisted she and her dragon were too young to fly.
That didn't stop Vhaehra from sneaking into the Dragonpit and taking to the skies.
Rhaenyra, her older sister, was close to her and spent much time with her and their mother. However, the royal family—and the court—began to notice that Vhaehra was a strange child. She was soft-spoken and odd. At times, she spoke of things no one had heard of: towers made of pure glass, carriages of steel that moved without horses, and people flying without dragons.
Vhaehra claimed they came to her in dreams and visions, vivid as if she were truly there. But her strange words were dismissed as nothing more than the imagination of a child. As a result, Vhaehra slowly stopped sharing her dreams with anyone.
She spent most of her time in the study or with her mother. She rarely spoke more than needed, only truly opening up to her family. Despite her peculiarities, Vhaehra was deeply loved by the court and the Red Keep's staff. She was polite, respectful, and a bright child—especially drawn to history and mathematics, absorbing knowledge daily.
She earned the nickname Vhaehra the Diligent for her tireless devotion to study.
As she grew, she became a striking young girl. Her long, straight silver-gold hair was tied neatly in a ponytail with a blue and silver ribbon bearing the Targaryen sigil—a gift from Lord Corlys Velaryon on her sixth nameday. Her vibrant cyan eyes drew much attention and praise for their beauty, and her skin was smooth and unblemished.
Many in Westeros whispered that she would become the most beautiful woman in the land when she came of age. King Viserys had already received numerous marriage proposals from lords hoping to betroth their sons to her. All were refused. Viserys stated he would consider such matters only when Vhaehra came of age.
...
112 AC
In her chambers high in the Red Keep, Queen Aemma sat with her attendants tending to her, ensuring her every need was met.
"Ah, there you are, Aemma. Say, have you seen Vhaehra by chance? I thought she would be with you." King Viserys entered the room.
Aemma rose slowly and embraced her husband. She shook her head at his question, curious as to why he was looking for her.
"No, I haven't. Why?"
"She's been begging me to let her watch one of the Small Council meetings, and now I can't seem to find her. I swear, what am I to do with her?"
Aemma smiled as she lovingly placed her palm on Viserys's cheek. "You know how Vhaehra is. I'm sure she'll turn up. Have you checked the study?"
"I've checked nearly every nook and cranny in this accursed keep—except here." He sighed. "I suppose that leaves just one last place she could be."
At that moment, a dragon's roar echoed overhead as two dragons were seen soaring high above the skies of King's Landing.