Chapter Text
While she knew that the Targaryens were a bunch of eccentric individuals, she did not expect them to be this kind of downright weird.
When she first came into consciousness, it didn't take her long to piece all the evidence together when the black and red three-headed dragon sigils were emblazoned everywhere she was carried off to.
The silver hair and purple eyes of the woman who was always carrying her certainly confirmed all theories she had, and all she could do was to fervently pray in her head that she did not reincarnate as the Mother of Dragons herself.
She most certainly did not have the willpower and tenacity to carry the plot if that was the case, effectively dooming the entire realm due to her sheer incompetence.
However, back to her first statement, her first impression of the infamous Targaryen madness was that it certainly manifested in different forms. It was a spectrum honestly. For her current situation, there was overprotectiveness and there was whatever the hell this woman was doing with her.
There was no time in her waking moment where the woman was not present. While the woman had duties to be done for the day, it was also imperative that she was to be always near her and within her sight, resulting to her almost getting mad with boredom. It was either she was stuck in the cradle when the woman went through her paperwork, or getting carried off to different parts of the castle only to be met with repetitive sceneries. The lavish gifts she had rained down on her were not enough with the exhaustion she had to deal with due to her unnatural clinginess.
The worst part was when the woman took great satisfaction breastfeeding her where she could do nothing but to turn off all her braincells and let her baby instincts kick in.
She heard of parents getting tired of their kids but this was the first time that it happened the other way around. From all the historical knowledge she had consumed, nobles were barely involved in raising their children. What happened to medieval parental neglect and detachment? What the hell was going on here?
Also, with how literally close she was to her new mother, it was only a matter of time when she learned of her identity. When the servants first addressed her as Queen Visenya, it was as if the Night King visited the way she went cold and froze on her spot.
While she knew that there were a few Visenyas in the future family tree, there certainly was only one that became a queen. And that was only the first one...
When all of her synapses immediately linked together and she arrived at the fastest conclusion ever, without further ado, she inhaled a good amount of air and then released it into the most ear piercing cry she could muster.
°
°
She'd feel guilty later on with the amount of maesters that were almost sent into the execution block because of her.
Queen Visenya was very much rattled at her sudden change of disposition, from the quiet and observant babe to the most inconsolable and miserable infant of the realm. She did not waste time in summoning all the best healers nearby to examine what was wrong with her child.
She could hear the general consensus of the people. To them, it was highly likely that the child was teething and certainly not suffering in her worst mental breakdown ever. But of course, the queen was not satisfied with their words until they could quieten her down.
She did eventually get tired of her wailing though and was reduced into sniffling, much to the relief of everyone else. For the lack of heads rolling first and for her seeming recovery last.
Now in the embrace of the main provider of her distress as they settled into a chair in the nursery, an unexpected guest suddenly came in.
"Muña.." A boy with the similar coloring as the queen peeked from the door. "Can I see my little sister?"
"Maegor," Queen Visenya replied coolly. "Have you finished your training?"
The only time she heard this tone from the queen was when she was dealing with servants. So this was gonna be Maegor the Cruel, currently Maegor being cruelly treated by his mother. Huh?
Predictably, he shrunk into himself due to her response. "Not yet. But I heard that Aelyra was not feeling well—"
"Then what could you possibly offer to remedy that, boy?" Queen Visenya sneered. "You will be more useful if you return to the courtyard than waste your time spent dallying here."
The boy—Maegor nodded sadly. His purple eyes gazing at her longingly. "I—Yes muña.."
He scuffled away pitifully with his guards. As the clink of their armor faded away, the queen also became more relaxed. Her anger burning away with each step they took.
As she was stuck in this tiny body, she could only gape at the blatant mistreatment happening in front of her instead of running towards the child to hug him and reassure him that he could visit her anytime he wanted.
His watery eyes that slightly wobbled and his hunched over lanky frame made her heart clench in pain. He was just a young boy for goodness sake!
She knew that getting reincarnated and realizing you were destined to have a doomed narrative was a big deal. But defending a child from abuse—verbal or physical—always took priority for her. Even if said child was a future Westerosi equivalent of Hitler.
What the hell was wrong with this woman?
"My dearest Aelyra," The queen crooned, stroking her cheek gently. "Rest now, my child. You have been through a lot for this day."
Not wanting to deal with this Targaryen clusterfuck anymore, she obeyed and was pleasantly surprised that she immediately dozed off.