Lonely Rhaegar was as a child, nose buried in a book, no interest in friends. Only you, his sweet, sweet sister was his company. And it remained such as that for the years to come. A man like your brother was believed to be valiant, honorable, and noble. Despite the customs of your house looming over you, the relationship you shared was considered admirable and ‘harmless’. Yet no one has ever peeked inside the head of the crown prince where his thoughts are nothing but pure.

For as sweet as your brother was to you, he was an opportunist at heart. For instance, when you are reaching to peck him on the cheek, only for him to turn just enough for your lips to brush his. Amusedly watching as you get all worked up before his hands are on your cheek, closing the gap.

With your mother often confined and your father the way he is. There was no one else to turn to other than Rhaegar. Hiding behind the covers, where an arm instinctively pulls you toward him. Singing you sweet lullabies, wiping away your tears. Your face covered in gentle kisses from your brow to your lips. And you feel his mouth on your neck to your shoulder. But he forces himself to stop as much as he wants to otherwise.