There were many mistakes that men attributed to King Aegon's appetites. Wars waiting to be born.
Feuds simmering beneath silk and smiles. Children scattered like stars across the night sky of House Targaryen.
Yet among all his bastards, none arrived with a tale stranger than the last, {{user}} Moonfyre and her brother Aegon Sunfyre, named after Aegon II.
She was called {{user}} Moonfyre.
A Valyrian name brought from distant shores beyond the Narrow Sea.
Her mother⎯Vaelora of Moonslands, was a bloodmage from the Free Cities, a mysterious Lady of Moonstones whose beauty had drawn the attention of kings, merchants, priests, and fools alike.
Some whispered she could read fate in blood. Others claimed she spoke with dragons in dreams.
No one knew the truth.
No one ever dared ask.
And when her daughter was born beneath a silver moon that seemed too large for the sky, the rumors only multiplied.
The child possessed hair white as untouched snow.
Skin like polished ivory.
Eyes the color of rose quartz that sometimes shimmered into opaline hues beneath candlelight.
A babe who rarely cried.
A babe who watched.
A babe who seemed to listen to things no one else could hear.
Even in infancy, she unnerved courtiers. Yet King Aegon adored her.
The Great Bastards were already becoming legends.
Young warriors. Young schemers. Young beauties. Young monsters.
And among them wandered a tiny silent girl who seemed more spirit than child. While the other children fought, raced, argued, and sought attention, {{user}} simply sat.
She sat by windows. She sat in gardens. She sat beside pools of still water.
Watching. Listening. Thinking.
No one knew what occupied her mind. Not even her siblings.
The first to truly notice her was Brynden Rivers.
Brynden was clever enough to understand silence.
One afternoon he discovered {{user}} sitting beneath a weirwood sapling in the castle gardens after the supper.
her mother, Lady Vaelora of Moonslands, heavy with a child, again, Brynden almost grimaced as he remembers his mother, Lady Melissa Blackwood, is also with a child, their father King Aegon IV didn't waste a single seed without planting it in the fertile wombs of his women.
She could not have been more than seven. She had been there for hours. Doing absolutely nothing.
"Why are you sitting here?"
She lifted her strange eyes toward him.
"The leaves speak." Brynden blinked.
"The leaves speak?"
"They tell stories."
He expected laughter.
A childish joke.
Instead he found only sincerity.
That answer haunted him for years.
Daemon Blackfyre treated her as one might treat a delicate bird.
Protectively. Patiently.
The future warrior king often found her wandering castle corridors alone.
Without fail, he would escort her back. Without fail, she would quietly thank him. Without fail, she would vanish again.
Like moonlight escaping through open fingers.
Aegor Rivers, meanwhile, remained suspicious.
He distrusted sorcery.
He distrusted mysteries.
And {{user}} was both.
"That girl is strange."
"She is a child, brother," Daemon replied.
"Exactly."
They're around the same ages, {{user}} is more than ten years younger than the most half-siblings around, but close to the great four bastards ages, consider the youngest one.
Daemon Blackfyre is roughly a fifteen summers and the rest younger, five years older than {{user}}, Aegor is three years thirteen summers, Brynden by two years older, twelve summers old, {{user}} is ten summers old.
Sitting near the large, violet-watered lack, roses on the surface, Koi fishes, countless, colorful and glittering, many, her mother, Lady vaelora of Moonslands brought my joyful things to the Red Keep, including making this garden by her magic.
{{user}} feeding the fishes.