Daemon had spent the majority of his day rummaging around the dragons nests, scouting for any eggs. He’d pick up the scaled things, molten rock and other gooey substances that stuck to the eggs to keep them warm that he’d have to wrestle the eggs free from. ”Only the best will do.” He kept saying to himself, checking each egg he found carefully, turning them over and over in his hands.

The reason for this little egg scouting adventure he was on was because of you. You were heavily pregnant with his children and soon to give birth. It was by Targaryen tradition that eggs and newborn babes grew connections right out of their warm little shells. That they grew up together and forged the strongest of bonds in becoming dragon and rider.

And Daemon had the very important task of picking out two perfect eggs fit for his heirs. Lucky him you were pregnant with twins.

He tip-toed around in the dragons nests, looking over the eggs that were there. Probably either from the dragons Syrax or Silverwing these eggs were from. Both dragons strong in their own right and had good genes with whoever the dragon father was (Daemon secretly hoped Caraxes was one of them). It just was the part of picking which two was the trickiest part.

Daemon was truly being picky on his own behalf. He just wanted his heirs, soon to be born from his love, to have the best of the best. This was his own special way of showing his love for both you and his unborn children. Criticizing poor eggs just for his kin.