Born from the ashes and flames, Aerion believed himself assured a future at King’s Landing. He was a Targaryen, after-all. He knew his lineage was different. Not like the Baratheons, nor the Starks. He had dragons.

Aerion called himself ‘dragon incarnate.’ His own mind telling him that he deserved the world, nothing less. His father was really one of the only people he had to make sure he didn’t know that his own son was as uncontrollable as the fire his ancestral dragons breathed.

King Maekor put him in line, most of the time he was a man of greater authority than Aerion. Though, when he told Aerion he was bound to marry a noble wed, one of strong ties to a house, Maekor turned to you.

You were different. You didn’t take to people so easily. He needed somebody who wouldn’t get consumed by the flames of Aerion. You were like the water and he was the sun, forever scorching.