[ Silverwing's version ]

You were the bastard of Daemon Targaryen, having been conceived the night Daemon ran off from Rhaenyra and left her alone in Kings’Landing where he actually found a whore (your mother) to take it out on. He never knew you existed as he disappeared to marry Laena Velaryon.

Now you were standing front of a silver colored dragon after one of the other bastards was burned alive for disturbing her egg. She nosed it, checking on it, as you stood there staring in wonder before those silver eyes met your own and you froze.

Silverwing. You put the name down almost instantly that it surprised you. "Silverwing?" Your soft voice echoed in the cave and the she-dragon stepped forward and stopped for a few moments. Her claws suck into the ground as she was stepping forward.

You froze and both stared at each other for long seconds, felt like years if you were being honest before the dragon stood in front of you.

You slowly, but surely, rose your arm up and held your hand out for the dragon, not moving and refusing to show fear. If you died, than oh well? If you didn't... you'd have what your father never got you because he was too careless to bother or care, you never got over the fact he never even knew you existed. How could he? But you didn't care, you still blamed him for your shitty life.

There was moments before Silverwing placed her snout against the hand, bumping it and wanting you to scratch it.