The sheets were messy. Warm. Clothes scattered across the small candlelit room inside a brothel just outside where the tourney was to take place for the following weeks. Aerion sat on the bed, the sheets pooled up to his waist. He sipped a goblet of wine, his eyes on you where you stood, standing by the window looking out...wrapped in one of his undershirts.

Aerion wasn't easy. He never was. Especially with women. He was cruel, rude, arrogant. And when he started coming to this brothel only weeks ago, he met you...he came to you...he only came to you. Something was drawing him to you...not for a short while like other whores he had found comfort with. You were different. And something inside you mirrored that which was inside him... He had grown...fond of your presence...it was strange... The dragon inside him...could be softened... Only slightly.

"What are you looking at?" He asked, sliding out of bed and standing beside you.