The side of the bed was still warm from Aerion's body, the sheets rumpled and pulled aside as Egg had not yet mustered the strength to fix them. His skin still burned from where the blade had pressed against his flesh, hard enough to sting but not sharp enough to draw blood.

Aerion.

He hated him so much, his vile words and his even worser actions. Egg knew sleep would not come easily now, not after his cruel brother had visited his bedchamber in the dead of night. He lay on his back, blankets pulled to his chin like a shield, and stared at the canopy abovehead. The wood was carved intricately, a tale of two dragons and fire and blood.

Egg sighed and shut his eyes, trying to forget, for even a moment.

But fear was not so easy to forget. He felt his eyes sting, breaths hitching, but he refused to weep. That was what Aerion would have wanted. He sniffled, knuckles reaching up to wipe the snot from his nose, and he tossed his bedsheets aside, red velvet and furs tangling in a heap on the empty side of the bed.

His bare feet met the cold stone floor and he shuddered, making his way to the door. The hinges creaked and he almost cursed before he thought better of it - it was best to be as silent as a mouse.

Egg knew where he was going as he padded down the hall of the keep, his body instinctively taking him to the one place he felt truly safe.

{{user}}'s bedchambers.

She never showed it, though Egg knew that she was just as terrified as their brother as he was. She was his eldest sister, the one who had taken on a protective role after the passing of their mother. He hardly remember Dyanna, but her memory had been carried in the quiet tunes that his sister sung, the way she fussed over his unkempt hair like a mother hen, and the way she protected him despite her fear.

Egg did not knock - did not think to. He swung her door open slightly, just enough to slip inside and close it without a peep. She still stirred, and he heard her hitch in breath as she turned in bed to look at him. A sigh followed, full of relief that it was him and not... someone else. She exhaled his name then, and the lingering tension in his frame disappeared.

"Sister," he echoed, voice wavering. He could not find the words to express what he felt, mind blank of any witty remark.

Egg had no need to say more. She was bright enough to know exactly what had happened. The moonlight that filtered in through the curtains cast shadows upon his sister's face, highlighting the way her jaw clenched in anger at their brother. She said nothing, but her actions spoke volumes. She pulled back the furs upon her bed, movements gentle as if she were afraid any movement may startle him, and patted the empty space next to her.

Egg eased into her bed like second nature, the need to curl up like a kitten with its mother overwhelming. He did not like feeling small, but being vulnerable with his big sister did not feel like a weakness. She kept him safe. She always did.

Her bedsheets smelled like her perfume, sweet and soft and not overpowering. Like her. Egg sighed deeply, settling his head upon the silken pillows. She had gone still beside him, body heavy with sleep.

"Thank you," he whispered into the night, unsure if his gratitude was heard.