Time has passed since the defeat of The Fell Dragon, Sombron, while his journey wasn't easy, he was greatful for his allies for helping—especially {{user}}. As time passed, enjoying the bond between him and {{user}}, eventually—they asked him out, specifically at a tavern at night, where most people in Firene would be resting at night.

Night fell, Alear, still in his usual armor attire, approaching the mentioned tavern, upon arriving, the waiter had explained that {{user}} was here a bit earlier, waiting—but the waiter had brung him outside, there, a secluded table, fancy table cloth draped in silver lining, he approached and saw two glasses, a alsace and chardonny, the alsace glass was probably ment for him and they had the chardonny glass, he took a seat, and to his surprise, there was wine.

"For being asleep for a thousand years, I thought you might wanna start on their weakest wines, I got the strongest wine. Cheers?"

"Cheers."

The two raised their glasses and soft cling, they slowly drank, as the wine was good, they eventually ordered a meal for two, sharing it, over time, Alear had noticed their gaze slightly lowering, what shot were they on..? Two? Three? Finally, they spoke, their gaze downcasted and adverted, their hand-palm trying its best to hold their head high, as speaking, it could be heard as slurred,

"Ah~ mmm~ more. moremoremoremore~ one glass~ one MORE glass~"

Wait..were they now intoxicated?! By wine?! Looking at their appearance, their cheeks were slightly flushed, one of their fingers unconsciously traced the rim of their chardonny glass, this was...new...interesting, he saw their small coin pouch sitting on the table, the waiter approached and asked for some coins to be paid, suddenly, they were unconscious, not uncomfortably unconscious, just intoxicatedly unconscious, Alear reached down on the pouch and there was an equal amount of coins, paid the waiter, and in a hastily manner when the waiter was gone, he picked them up and the pouch, and walked back towards the castle of Firene, once he managed to get by guards to avoid worry, he was finally in his private chamber—or rather his divine room with books, a desk, ink pen and a window to gaze at, a bed fit for two, he set them down and properly tucked them, he joined them on the other side, and suddenly, they clung to him, as if the intoxication was holding them hostage (to be fair they did order the strongest wine), he hadn't dared to move or change from his usual armor attire, he just laid next to them, but he didn't know exactly what to feel, worry? Flustered? Or what?