Bonds Forged in Secret

Annatar's bond with Silverwing had woven itself into the deepest parts of his life, a secret that filled him with both joy and unease. Every time he approached the shore at night, his heart would race—not from fear, but from a sense of belonging that had begun to take root within him. He couldn't deny the pull he felt toward her, the ancient, silent creature who had somehow chosen him. Even as he tried to distance himself to avoid suspicion, he always found himself returning, drawn by something beyond reason.Silverwing awaited him each time he arrived, her luminous violet eyes watching him with a keen intelligence that seemed to see right through him. In those quiet moments, Annatar felt as though she knew him in a way no one else ever could. When he whispered his hopes, his fears, or simply stood beside her in the silence, it was as though Silverwing understood without needing words. The dragon was a creature of strength and wisdom, carrying the memories of countless riders, yet she treated him with a gentleness that took him by surprise each time.As he ran his hands along her scales, the world around him seemed to fade, leaving only the bond between them. She was no longer simply a dragon; she was a companion, a confidant, perhaps even a friend. On the nights they soared through the sky, Annatar felt free in a way he never had before. It was in her company, high above Dragonstone, that he felt the weight of his lineage and the restrictions of his status fall away. He was no longer the uncertain boy training under Daeron's watchful eye—he was himself, a rider, a dragonseed with the blood of Valyria in his veins.Yet as close as he felt to Silverwing, Annatar found himself struggling with the duality of his life. By day, he lived as the skilled yet ordinary boy training under Daeron, doing everything expected of him. Daeron, his mother's cousin, had been a strong and steady presence in Annatar's life since her passing, a man whose gruff affection reminded him he wasn't entirely alone. Daeron was proud of Annatar's progress, even seeing him as a potential future master-at-arms if he continued to develop. Their bond was built on trust and respect, though Annatar knew Daeron would never approve of his secret, let alone understand it.Then there was Aeron, Daeron's son, and Annatar's closest friend. The two had trained side-by-side since they were children, growing from mere sparring partners to brothers in all but blood. Where Annatar was gifted and fiercely determined, Aeron was equally tenacious, though his talents were more grounded. Aeron excelled in the basics of swordplay and strategy, always methodical and steady, the perfect foil to Annatar's more instinctual style. Aeron had an unwavering loyalty and strength of character that Annatar respected deeply, yet even this bond was beginning to feel the strain of Annatar's nightly disappearances.One evening, as they trained under the pale light of the setting sun, Aeron fixed him with a hard stare, his brow furrowed in suspicion. "You're disappearing every night, Annatar," he said, his tone careful but pointed. "I've seen you sneaking off. And don't say it's nothing, because I know it's something."Annatar's heart skipped a beat. He forced a smile, feigning nonchalance as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "I get nightmares, that's all," he replied, keeping his voice casual. "Sometimes they're bad enough that I can't sleep, so I go out to train. It clears my mind."Aeron's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Nightmares? So bad that you leave every other night?" He shook his head. "We've trained together for years. You never mentioned nightmares before."Annatar struggled to maintain his calm, feeling the weight of the secret he kept from his closest friend. "It... it just started," he replied, hoping his friend would accept it. "Ever since my mother died, they come and go. It's hard to explain."Aeron's expression softened, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. He put a reassuring hand on Annatar's shoulder, his voice gentler. "I wish you'd told me sooner, Annatar. You don't have to go through it alone, you know?"Annatar forced a grateful smile, though guilt gnawed at him from within. He wanted to tell Aeron everything, to let him in on the secret that had changed his life so profoundly. Yet he couldn't shake the fear that his friend wouldn't understand, or worse—that he'd try to stop him for his own good. The fear of being exposed, of losing Silverwing, was too great a risk.That night, as Annatar slipped away once more, he found himself wondering how much longer he could keep the truth from Aeron. As he made his way to the cove, Silverwing awaited him as always, her massive frame casting a familiar shadow over the moonlit shore. She let out a low, rumbling purr as he approached, lowering her head so he could scratch the smooth scales beneath her jaw. Annatar felt the tension melt away, his worries fading as he focused on the connection he shared with her.Sitting beside her, Annatar whispered, "They're starting to ask questions, Silverwing. Aeron... he suspects something." His fingers traced idle patterns along her scales as he spoke. "He's my best friend, but I don't know if he'd understand this. I don't know if anyone would."Silverwing seemed to listen, her gaze unwavering as she regarded him with quiet empathy. Annatar felt a rush of gratitude; in her presence, he didn't need to explain himself or justify his fears. She accepted him as he was, sharing in the silent understanding that bound them together.As they sat together, he found himself pouring out his thoughts, his words flowing freely as though Silverwing could truly understand. "You're the only one who knows me like this," he murmured, running a hand over her scales. "With you, I feel... I don't know, I feel whole. As if I was meant for this." He paused, staring into her luminous eyes. "But they wouldn't see it that way, would they? The Targaryens... they'd see me as a threat."Silverwing responded by nudging him gently, her warm breath fanning over him in a comforting gesture. It was as if she was urging him to be strong, to trust in the bond they shared. For a brief moment, Annatar let himself believe that he could keep this secret forever, that he and Silverwing could continue to share these hidden moments without the shadow of discovery.Their flights became his escape from the constraints of his life on Dragonstone, the one place where he could let go of the expectations placed upon him. In the darkness, he was free—free to be himself, without the weight of his lineage or the judgment of others. With Silverwing, he was not a mere dragonseed or a bastard. He was a rider, bound to one of the greatest dragons of the age, and nothing could strip that truth from him.The next morning, as he sparred with Aeron under Daeron's watchful eye, Annatar noticed his friend's concerned glances. Aeron was hesitant, his strikes slower and less precise than usual, his mind clearly elsewhere. Finally, as they paused for a break, Aeron spoke in a low voice, his eyes troubled. "If something's really bothering you, Annatar, you know you can trust me."Annatar hesitated, the weight of the secret pressing on him. He longed to tell Aeron, to share the exhilaration and wonder of the nights he spent with Silverwing. But he couldn't—he knew the risk was too great, and he couldn't bring himself to endanger Aeron by involving him in something so perilous.He forced a smile and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I know, Aeron. And I'm grateful. But it's nothing I can't handle." The words felt hollow, but he forced himself to believe them.As they resumed their training, Annatar's thoughts drifted once more to the silver-scaled dragon waiting for him on the shore. His secret weighed heavily on him, yet he knew that, for now, he had no choice but to continue carrying it alone.