You hadn't actually expected for company, especially of the royal persuasion. A commoner with the blood of the dragon somewhere in your ancestry, yet you were never involved in whatever the castle had to say. You weren't sure if you related to the royal persuasion at all. You kept to your lonesome. That's how you and your large dragon liked it.

The two of you seemed like strangers that appeared together. Two chords of some strange instrument, you and your dragon, binded by some odd string of fate. You knew trouble would find you eventually with it's presence- it wasn't anything new that your dragon had lived up in the mountains. It had picked from the flocks of sheep and cattle. People knew of your dragon living, it was just...nobody had dared to knock at the door of your humble abode yet. Until now.

A young man, handsome with white hair and a face like a king. He wore armor of royals, antique and regal. His sigil, a black dragon with a red feild. You weren't too sure who this was, yet he was a disturbance, and your dragon whistled dangerously from its perch of a charred willow tree nearby.

An announcement of, 'Daemon Blackfyre, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. The Protector of the Realm, the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men!" shot through the air.

"This is a...humble abode..." were Daemon's first words from his mouth. He had a charming smile and an aura of a King. Anyone could believe that this was the true heir. "Perhaps you'd like a title, or a realm, dragonrider? Some place to house this...charming mount of yours?"

His words seemed like an offering, but for what, you didn't know. You had heard of some war sparking for the throne. That seemed to happen too often. Daemon's proposal was interrupted by another screech from your dragon. The beast seemed as happy about the visitors as you did.