Kerttu's Elite - A Sequel

Confident Dancer - Chapter 3

"Requesting my presence," I entered in a snooty voice. "What do you need, mighty Sir Tyrion?"

He chuckled lightly in his throat. "I just wanted to see you to thank you. I got a letter from my sisters. They have never been better. Thank you." He embraced me, his hand cupping the back of my head. The first time I had been in his arms was at my grandparent's ball. They were strong and muscular. And comforting. Tyrion was safe.

He was his family's protector and provider. And he acted that way for anyone he encountered. But underneath it all, was an addict. He had grown accustomed to alcohol. Nearly every night. He had been sober for five weeks with one mistake in between that had resulted in an inebriated Tyrion crashing in my bedroom.

"That's great. I am so happy for you!" He caressed my hair gently which caused me to gasp. He was so tender with me. It was consoling and confusing. I had never been touched in this way.

"Thank you." He pulled away. He had cleared the center of his room so that everything was pushed to its sides.

"What's with the remodel?" I asked lightheartedly.

"The Halloween ball is coming up. I figured I could teach you some dances. See, I love dancing and you are by far the best partner I have ever had. May I have this dance? Would you like that?" His deep grey eyes implored into mine, slightly fearful of my response.

"Of course!" I affirmed, unreluctantly grinning. He clasped one of my hands and wrapped the other tightly around my waist. His pink lips were centimeters apart from mine as he pulled me confidently closer.

"You change when you dance. You are much more," I stated, contemplating the right word for it. "Demanding."

We swayed to the invisible music in our minds, his hips keeping the tempo. I liked the way they rocked into mine. "Sorry about that. I don't mean to be, I just get caught in it. Dancing."

"When did you fall in love with it?" I asked. I wanted to know so much more about him.

He smiled for a second. "My mother. She was obsessed with Bia Newsome. She used to play her music all the time. And I started dancing to it. It quickly became my favorite hobby."

He twirled me and brought me back to his chest, the quickness exhilarating me. But I had to keep up the conversation for awkward's sake. "I don't know much about her. Your mom."

"What do you want to know?" The second I asked about his mother, he grew awfully rigid. Not in his movements but in his face. His strong jawline grew tighter as he swayed.

"Anything really." He told me all of his siblings had different fathers. I would like to know more about that.

"Well, as I just told you, she used to listen to Bia Newsome constantly. She cooks. Cooks a lot. She is much more attentive now as a mother. She is good to them." He swiftly turned me so that my back was to him, criss crossing my arms, holding both of them.

"How was she when you were growing up? Sorry for asking I just-"

"No, it's truly fine. It shouldn't be an uncomfortable topic for me, though it is." We stopped dancing and he led me to his desk. He had set his up so that the other side was accessible, making a table.

I wrapped Tyrion's hands in my own, daddling with them on the desktop. "You don't have to-"

"I do, Princess Kerttu. I do," he replied. "My mother used to...conduct favors for men for money."

Oh god.

"She created quite the reputation for herself. But she couldn't get a job since her family was of former Sevens and she thought that was the only way to provide for me."

"She doesn't do that anymore," he assured. "But it was hard growing in that...environment." He attempted a smile that quickly fell away.

"I'm so-"

"No, Kerttu, that's alright. It was harder for her than me." He swallowed hard, his gaze negligent of mine.

"My mother is the queen," I started. I was grasping at any thread to make him feel better and this was the first to come to mind. "It's great in a million ways but uncomfortable in one. She's the queen of fashion, being authoritative, ruling. I'm not like that. People used to remind me of that all the time, all the ambassadors, advisors. You are not like your mother," I recalled. "She sees it as a compliment to me. But its weird when you're her predecessor in two very different ways."

"That must be hard for you. I am sorry you have to encounter that. People are idiots," he remarked. I laughed and he smirked.

We sat like that for awhile before dancing again. For a second, it was quiet. We had shared a section of our lives to each other, his much more difficult than mine, yet in that moment, there was an understanding. There was empathy. We were equals.

**Feelings of Tyrion? On his mother?**

**I'm working on writing dance sequences. What did you guys think of this one and how can I make it better?**

**Please comment and vote. Have an amazing day and always question, never settle**