Year: 121 AC

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Daenys stood there, her heart pounding in her chest, waiting for the inevitable wave of fire that never came. Instead, the dragon did something unexpected. It blew out a breath, and the air whooshed past her with a force that sent her hair and clothing billowing. The cavern filled with the overwhelming smell of smoke, thick and acrid, and Daenys struggled to hold back a cough. She realized that the dragon had merely exhaled, and the sheer force of its breath had been enough to create this sensory whirlwind. Fearful of startling the great beast further, she swallowed her discomfort and remained as still as a statue, her wide eyes never leaving the dragon's brilliant, molten gaze.

"Lykiri."

She breathed out the High Valyrian word softly, raising her arm in front of her as she had seen her brothers do with their dragons. She held her breath, unsure of how the creature would react, but to her astonishment and delight, the dragon responded in kind.

The massive beast lowered its head, its long neck gracefully arcing toward her outstretched hand. As Daenys's fingers inched closer, she could feel the heat emanating from the dragon's colossal form. With a deliberate movement, the dragon nudged its snout against her hand, allowing her to make contact with its scales that felt cool and smooth under her fingertips. 

"Lykiri," she repeated. "Calm down."

A sudden, loud shout from nearby shattered the tranquillity of the cavern. The dragon, startled by the unexpected noise, let out a resounding bellow and swiftly pulled away from Daenys.

Daenys, caught off guard by the sudden commotion, took a quick step backward, her heart racing. She watched as the great silver beast unfurled its colossal wings and stood to its full, towering height. With a powerful and graceful movement, the dragon ascended into the air, its massive form soaring toward the opening at the top of the cavern.

It was then that Daenys realized the purpose of that small opening in the ceiling. It was the dragon's escape route, a passage to the world beyond. As the dragon disappeared into the distant twilight, Daenys stood there, her heart still pounding from the encounter, her mind filled with wonder and questions about the mysterious creature she had encountered.

It was Daemon's voice that had caused the commotion, and soon, he located her within the depths of the cavern, his expression a mix of relief and worry. Despite the lingering awkwardness that had characterized their relationship, Daemon offered her a kind smile, a gesture that held a glimmer of warmth. 

"Daemon?"

"It's getting late. You weren't home at your usual hour so I came looking."

Daenys frowned, "How did you know where I was?"

At this, Daemon gave her a knowing smile, "You're not as unnoticeable as you think, little dragon."

This made her look up at him in alarm, thinking he'd stop her from returning. Seeing the expression on her face, Daemon chuckled and shook his head. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell your mother. Although we might have to eventually," he gestured toward the opening in the roof where the dragon had just disappeared through. "Dragons don't just let anyone touch them you know. There's something there, I can tell."

Despite herself, Daenys felt her eyes light up, "Really? You think...you think it could be mine?"

"Perhaps. But we'll have to return and see, won't we?"

"You-you'll let me come back?"

Daemon winked, "Of course. But let us hurry home now, your mother must be worried."

He offered her his hand and after a few moments of deliberation, she allowed herself to slip her fingers into his. He smiled at this and something in Daenys let out a breath of relief. He wasn't her father but at least he was kind. 

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In the days that followed her first encounter with the dragon, Daenys found herself drawn back to the spot where she had met her. Daemon had told her that the dragon's name was Silverwing, and she had once belonged to the Good Queen Alysanne. Silverwing, as enigmatic as ever, sometimes seemed to be in a good mood, and on those occasions, she allowed Daenys to curl up by her side. There, Daenys would play with Laenor's dragonbone dice, rolling them between her hands as she basked in the dragon's presence.

However, Silverwing's tempestuous temperament was often unpredictable. On those days, Daenys would sit at the mouth of the cavern, content to simply watch the magnificent beast. It was a silent communion between human and dragon, a bond that grew stronger with each visit.

Daenys was far too reckless for her own good, and one day, she found herself with an audacious idea – she wanted to ride the wild dragon. Unlike the dragons her mother and Daemon rode, Silverwing had never been fitted with the harnesses and saddles that were required for safe riding. But Daenys was undeterred by the lack of conventional equipment, driven by her insatiable desire to experience the world from the back of the beast.

Climbing up the massive dragon's side was a formidable challenge, but she persevered nonetheless. She used the uneven ridges and protrusions of the dragon's silvery skin as makeshift handholds and footholds, hauling herself up toward its immense back. When she reached the top, Daenys encountered a new challenge. The dragon's back was much too broad and there was no saddle or harness to secure her. Undaunted, she seized hold of one of the dragon's horned spines and clung to it with all her might, her heart pounding with a mixture of exhilaration and trepidation.

"Soves!" she commanded, her voice only wavering slightly. "Fly!"

Silverwing turned its massive head to regard her with unblinking, ancient eyes. There was a moment of silence, and with a grace that belied its enormous size, Silverwing took great lumbering steps to stand to its full height within the cavern. Then, with a powerful surge of its wings, the dragon launched itself into the open air, exiting through the same opening in the roof from which Daenys had first seen her fly through.

Daenys couldn't help but let out a joyous, uninhibited laugh as the beast carried her higher into the sky. The sheer exhilaration of the moment, the thrill of riding a dragon, overcame any fear or doubt she may have harboured. Silverwing, whether by chance or understanding, flew relatively steadily, allowing her to maintain her precarious perch. The sensation of flight was nothing short of breathtaking. The rush of wind against her face was like a cold embrace, tugging at her hair and clothing as she held on for dear life. The ground rushed by beneath her in a blur of colours and shapes, and the world seemed to stretch out infinitely before her.  The world unfolded like a living map. Daenys could see the rugged coastline of Dragonstone, with its cliffs and craggy shores, and the turbulent sea that stretched out to meet the horizon. The castle and grounds of Dragonstone appeared as miniature replicas, dwarfed by the grandeur of the island itself. They reminded her of her grandfather's replica of King's Landing that he was always working on, with its tiny curling spires and buildings. Above, the sky was a brilliant tapestry of blues, from the palest azure near the horizon to the deep, endless cobalt of the zenith. The sun bathed the world in golden light, casting long shadows and illuminating the landscape below.

The sounds of the sky were a symphony of elements. The wind whistled past her and the beating of Silverwing's wings was a powerful, rhythmic cadence that resonated through Daenys's very bones. The distant cries of seabirds echoed in the distance, and the briny scent of the ocean below mingled with the fresh, crisp aroma of the high-altitude air.

Daenys could not contain her jubilant laughter, and Silverwing responded with a resonant and amicable snort. Then suddenly, she felt a pang of sadness wash over her like a fleeting shadow. The last time she had experienced such profound joy had been with Laenor, when he had taken her for a ride on his own dragon. Daenys couldn't shake the sense of longing and loss that welled up within her and then she was crying again, great heaving sobs that got lost in the rushing of air. Her sudden bout of sadness had not gone unnoticed by Silverwing, and the dragon let out a low, rumbling growl as it slowed down its rapid flight. 

As Silverwing descended from the skies, Daenys and the magnificent dragon touched down in front of the gates of the castle. The sight of the dragon was a spectacle that drew the attention of all who witnessed it. Rhaenyra and Daemon, stood there watching her, their expressions mirroring their contrasting emotions. Rhaenyra's face held a mix of surprise and deep concern, her motherly instincts causing her to worry about Daenys's safety. She was relieved to see her daughter unharmed but couldn't help but be angry at the recklessness of her actions. Daemon, on the other hand, wore a proud smirk on his face. He had always been a man of daring and adventure, and he seemed to take pride in her audacious spirit.

Daenys slid down from Silverwing's back but she misjudged the distance and landed in a heap on the floor. Still, she grinned and brushed herself off, standing up to give the beast an affectionate pat. 

"Daenys!"

Daenys winced at the frustration in her mother's voice and she turned toward her with a placating smile. 

"I'm alright, Mother."

"What-what were you thinking? You could have fallen off. You could have-"

"But she didn't," Daemon consoled, shooting Daenys a wink. "She's perfectly alright, and now she has a dragon."

Rhaenyra exhaled roughly and then rolled her eyes. 

"I suppose I should not fault you too much for your reckless nature, you are my daughter after all."

As her mother gestured toward the dragon-keepers who had accompanied them and asked them to fit Silverwing with the appropriate contraptions so that she would be safe to ride, Daenys reached out to brush her fingers across her side once more. 

"Sȳz riña," she mumbled into its rough skin. "Good girl."