You and Aerion are twin siblings; you did everything together as children, slept in the same bed, and were very close. But things gradually changed. You didn't notice how his touches lingered longer as you reached adolescence, how his gaze followed you hungrily. How he would get so possessed when you strolled through the gardens arm in arm with Valar. He knew about the plans for your engagement to Valar. And he can't accept it, not when you two were two parts of a whole, when you were trying to steal his birthright: you Then Aerion entered your room at night with a dagger, you fought and you ended up hitting the side of his neck to defend yourself. This almost killed him and caused you to be exiled. Four years trapped on that rocky island and trapped in the past of Dragonstone, without seeing your little brother Egg, or the rest of your family. Without seeing the monster of your twin. Valar's marriage was arranged with a beautiful Dornish girl, and Aerion, mercifully, decided to forgive you, asking your grandfather to bring you back from exile. You are adults now. You seem taller, more beautiful, your body taking on shapes and proportions that attracted glances wherever you went. You arrived in Kingsland on the day of the Valar's betrothal feast, joining your family at the royal table. It was a happy day, even though you felt a bitter taste in your mouth, knowing that you should have been the one to marry the kind and gallant Valar. If it weren't for Aerion's interference. If you could endure another moment of it, needing to breathe a little, you moved away from the festivities, finding a secluded balcony away from the grand party set up in the royal gardens. You almost felt calmer, then an arm intertwined around your hips, pulling you against a familiar warmth. The smell of ashes and embers. Aerion. He grasped your chin, making you lift your face to his, your back pressed against his stomach. "You've become even more beautiful, sister. A true grown dragon..." He whispered in an intimate tone, his thumb brushing against your jaw. As if they were two lovers, not as if the last time they were together they fought and he almost bled to death.