Brief Note Before Beginning:

I had to estimate some of this timeline, since as far as I remember its not explicitly stated and is all pre-canon.

Sexual content warning, for the story in general. Its not going to be overly zealous, but it will be in the story.

Warning for this chapter: Sherrel went through some shit. Minor mentions of her abuse as she recalls it.

Before anyone asks, its clearly not Lung.

Also, in case anyone is wondering, this will wind up being a HAREM fic, and the actual focus of this story is going to be on the romance, not the conflicts.

What that means is there WILL be fights, there will be ass kicking, but significant portions of this story are going focused on 'feelings' and 'smooching'.

Who woulda thunk it.

A Dragon of Ends and Beginnings

Late 2000

Sherrel Bailey

She stumbled over a slight divot in the concrete, unsurprising though its existence was in Brockton Bay, it infuriated her and gave fuel to her ragged and worn out body. Perhaps the only thing worse than failing was failing within sight of her objective.

Shouts and swears emerged from behind her, and though she couldn't see her pursuers she knew they would be closing fast. There were simply too many out searching for her to hide and make it to safety.

She hoped it was safe anyway, from what she had heard all she had to do was make it across the invisible border that was 6th street before crossing into The Dragon's territory.

Sherrel was a practical young woman, and though she thoroughly detested trading a group of rapist, druggy scumbags for a rather large unknown, she would take just about anything at this point to get away from 'Skidmark' as that fool called himself. The rumours of sexual favors in exchange for protection had begun raging several months prior, and she had no way to verify the veracity of such claims, but regardless of the truth it would be worth it.

Continuing to run along the crumbling brickwork of an old hardware store, she felt her breasts straining against the far too tight white tank top she was wearing. Fucking druggies.

Couldn't even give her shitty clothes.

It wasn't even the tank tops fault - it was decently sized and should have been more than enough for most women. Sherrel cursed whatever god decided to curse her with boobs that weighed enough to be used as a weapon yet again, as phantom twinges ran up her back. Though, if the sexual favors bit was true, at least she'd have a leg up on the competition.

Cursing everyone who'd ever let her down, Skidmark, Brockton Bay, herself for deciding coming here was a good idea, and everything in sight she finally stopped to briefly catch her breath and reorient herself.

The area had slowly been getting nicer, more gentrified as the idiots she'd been stuck with before would have said. Her head spun as she slowly came down from whatever concoction had been forced through her veins, feeling the pangs of debilitating need and hunger rising already.

How the fuck do people live like this? If it was by choice, Sherrel would never even set eyes on drugs again. Not even marijuna would survive her wrath, forever ruined by her experiences.

She shoved off the wall she began to lean on as her strength fled her legs. No time like the present to save herself.

Just two more blocks. Two more blocks and she was relatively confident her safety was guaranteed. Whether she had to pay for that protection by being bent over a table was yet to be seen, but at this point sex wasn't much of a stumbling block if everything else got better.

Whoever thinks big tits is a blessing can go die. Trying to run without any form of support was proving to be a rather novel way to torture herself. Bras were already expensive when you needed ones as supportive as she did, and if anybody thought she was going to be provided that kind of comfort by the fucking Archer Bridge Merchants was insane, the stupid fucks they were.

By God, she was thinking about her breasts far too much at a time like this.

7th Street. Almost there.

A shout resounded from behind her, revealing several ratty looking men pointing towards her, having just rounded the corner of another street and spotting her rather rattled self.

Shit.

Whatever energy she had left was invested in sprinting, if it could be called that. Stumbling from whatever mix her 'loving friends' have left her with Sherrel briefly dropped to her hands, skinning both of them on the rough concrete.

Simply using that as a springboard she shoved herself back up and resumed running. Based on the pain, both of her wrists were going to be feeling that tomorrow, disregarding the state of the skin on her palms.

So fucking close.

The sudden crack of a gunshot immediately made her stumble to a stop, raising her hands in surrender. So goddamn close!

She looked left, then right, praying to see an indicator of her location, to see if running was worth it or not. If she could just make it…

The dim green sign, looking slightly better now that she was approaching a more affluent area, indicated the street she was now on.

6th Street.

The official territory under his control.

Now she just had to pray the rumors were true. Oh, Skidmark had steered his 'troops' around the area, so it seemed likely, but the specifics remained to be seen.

Slowly turning, Sherrel came to see the great shithead himself, Skidmark, holding a smoking gun in the air.

"Not so fast little cumdumpster. Where the cunt-fucking shit did you think you were going?"

The indignation was swift to rise in her.

"As far away as I can get from you, you smelly, drugged up useless piece of shit. Fuck you and your shitty gang."

Skidmark's broken and yellowed teeth reflected in the dull streetlight. "You sure about that, bitch? Where you even running to? Trying to get to safety? Nobody would want to take in a used fuckhole like you anyway, might as well stay with us."

Though it was more the way the shithead spoke rather than a direct insult, like it would be from most other people, Sherrel's eyes still rapidly began to blink away tears.

Her hopes, little as they were, when she'd first arrived in Brockton Bay, had still been existent. Now? Her hopes were running on fumes - this was her one last ditch effort before she lost everything about herself. It wasn't hard to tell as her moments of truly clear lucidity became fewer and farther between.

That and the fact she'd been… used, like some kind of breeding sow by Skidmark and a select few of his comrades, left her in an odd state between furious and so depressed she just didn't feel like existing anymore.

It didn't even fucking feel good, the useless shits.

Fuck!

A sudden realization wormed its way into her gut. A determination that burned through her veins, filling her with righteous anger. Sherrel would rather die than let herself be lost in the sea of drugs they tried to drown her in - it was roughly the same outcome regardless, but at least she could get out one final 'fuck you' to the assholes who tried to brainwash her.

Before she could verbalize her feelings however, a rich voice suddenly emerged from behind her, startlingly close.

"My my, what have we here. Skidmark, you know what happens when you try to peddle your trash in my territory, did you think I would take less umbrage to chasing this young lady with such obvious intent to bring harm to her?"

A startling mix of emotions rushed through Sherrels chest at the sudden appearance and statement - it seemed the rumors were true. The Dragon allowed no crime to go down inside of his territory.

"Fuck you, stupid cocksucking dickwaffle. Squealer is ours, and she'll be coming with us."

The Dragon, dressed in an immaculate suit (why was he wearing it at 2 in the morning?) turned his baleful crimson gaze towards her. Sherrel quailed under the sudden pressure she was under, but she refused to look away. She'd come this far, and she was damned to a special kind of hell if she didn't make it across the finish line.

"And what do you desire, Ms. Squealer?"

He patiently waited for an answer while the gangsters behind her slowly got more and more antsy.

What did she desire? Was that even a question? There was only one thing in the entire world she wanted right now, and she would pay damn near any price to get it.

"I want to be free. And call me Sherrel."

He smiled at her, bearing his teeth in a manner that was both friendly and intimidating in equal measure.

"Such a simple wish, Sherrel. If that is all I would be happy to make your desire reality."

He turned his eyes towards the now anxious Merchants.

"Well? Do you wish to fight me? Sherrel here is now under my protection. Prepare yourselves, or leave. I'll give you…" He glanced down at a watch that glistened under the dim lights on his wrist. "30 seconds. Starting now."

He dropped his wrist down by his side, and resumed watching the druggies and gang leader before him. Sherrel too, looked back towards them, trying to determine what the crazy bastards would do. Skidmark looked positively apoplectic, and was screaming swears she had yet to hear to date.

And she liked to think she'd heard most of them, living with the single most creative swearer in the damn world. Not that that should be a point of pride for him, since in her eyes it spoke more to his inability to talk like a normal human being and he simply substituted even trying with more foul language.

"Only 15 seconds left my friends, I would make up your minds quickly now. I would hate to have to clean up what's left of you - I was having a lovely time before you garnered my attention."

Several more seconds passed, and Sherrel began to wonder exactly what Skidmark would do. He'd clearly known something about The Dragon, else he wouldn't be hesitating.

Finally, as his timer neared its end, he let out a final swear and called out to his men, ordering them back. His hateful gaze washed over her as they left, Skidmark being the last one to turn around and march back down the street they'd arrived on.

She shivered, trying to forget those bloodshot eyes and all they meant.

"Now, welcome to my little slice of town, Ms. Sherrel. Please, follow me, let's get you out of the cold."

The young woman nodded, shivering now that her body finally had a chance to slow down and catch up to the feelings it was trying to transmit to her brain. Abruptly, she noticed another woman standing behind The Dragon, her arms crossed, long blond hair haloing her face.

The first thought racing through her brain was just how beautiful the vision before her was - God damn, she wasn't a lesbian but she could admit that the woman standing before her was a beauty of a quality rarely seen in Brockton Bay.

She followed them numbly when both The Dragon and the woman turned and began to walk down the sidewalk, presumably to their home.

Quickly stepping up to make sure she didn't get left behind, she began rubbing her hands up and down her arms before quickly being stopped by the sudden pain in her palms.

"Shit…" The tinker muttered under her breath, as the skinned and bleeding status of her hands made itself known.

The Dragon turned at her utterance, and she once again instinctively tried to make herself smaller.

A tiny smile quirked the edge of one of his lips in seeming amusement. "There is no need to fear for your safety or security while you are staying with us, Ms. Sherrel. May I see your hands?"

Not knowing what else to do, she nodded as he approached and glanced over them. It was fairly dark, but when he grasped her hands and turned them over, he clearly saw more than she did.

"Hm, that looks quite painful. As a matter of fact, I should have noticed earlier - for that you have my apologies. Let me help you." With that said, he held on one suddenly glowing hand and a golden wave of light washed over her, immediately soothing her aches and pains.

The sudden illumination also revealed the skin of her hand rematerializing itself, stretching back into place, which she watched with rapt attention.

"There. All better, see?" He held up one of her hands to a better angle to be seen by a nearby streetlight, revealing her smaller, calloused hand completely restored to a healthy state. His larger and significantly warmer hand grasped hers gently, and from another angle it could be mistaken as if he was holding it, and much to her chagrin, a light blush dusted her cheeks.

Now, Sherrel was no longer a stranger to sexual contact anymore, but casual intimacy was something entirely else. Damn her stupid brain, damn Skidmark, and damn the knowing look in the bastard's eyes whose fault this was!

He released her, and she snatched her hand back as though she had touched a red-hot poker. Sherrel mumbled out a thanks.

"Of course. Now, we're just about home, so follow us inside and Mrs. Rain will show you where you'll be staying."

Well, she now had the name of the blond beauty walking ahead of them at least.

Said blond suddenly opened a door in a rather unassuming building that was roughly near where Sherrel guessed the center of The Dragon's territory was.

She followed them through the entrance and entered a rather… mediocre looking building. The room had no decorations, a plain beige carpet, and… that was it. Well, it had a window too. Couldn't forget that.

Something must have shown on her face because the amused crimson gaze once again turned towards her. "Trust me, you're in for a shock."

The blond turned back towards them, an exasperated yet fond look in her eyes. "Aster, quit messing around with the poor thing and lets get her settled."

Some of the serious aura Mrs. Rain had been channeling was gone, now that they were out of the streets and not near a conflict. Which was good to know, because Sherrels first brief impression was of somebody far too uptight for their own good.

The tinker was happy to be proven wrong, as the middle aged woman now had a significantly warmer air about her.

"Of course dear, my apologies." The smile adorning his face indicated it was all good natured. "Now, if you'll follow us, my statement still stands. Prepare to be amazed!"

Sherrel wasn't sure if she should be worried or not, hearing that from him but… She'd come this far. It was too late to turn around now.

They walked towards the only other unknown part of the plain room, another door. Rather than open it as Sherrel expected her to, Mrs. Rain simply walked through it. It parted like water before her, allowing her entry with no resistance.

Allowing herself a brief moment to be shocked, The Dragon simply smiled and winked at her before stepping through himself. Swallowing and summoning her courage, Sherrel decided a little faith never hurt anyone, before following in their steps and stepping through the 'door'.

Stepping into a lavish sitting room was not what she expected to happen when she stepped through the odd entryway. A slight feeling of cold fingers passed over her and she was just… here.

Here being an ornate room gilded with rich furniture, rugs, and paintings. A deep blue rug covered most of the floor, plush and covered in golden artwork featuring dragons and men. A sitting chair, also quite clearly cushioned, sat before a reading desk made of a rich, dark wood. The entire room was quite the sight, and Sherrel was briefly starstruck by how much this room alone likely cost.

There were several doors indicating there were further riches to be discovered behind the closed portals.

The blond woman, Mrs. Rain, stepped up to her and cleared her throat, shaking her from her reverie. A small smile showed she wasn't upset at her lapse in attention. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to one of the guest rooms. I think you'll appreciate it. It has an attached full bathroom, which you may want to make use of before you sleep."

Glancing down, Sherrel could see why she said such a thing. Already her normal outfit, helpfully provided by Skidmark, was covered in oil and grease stains. Her flight had made it worse, getting it covered in even more dirt and filth, along with several tears in her tank top and thigh-length shorts.

The shorts had most of the tears 'pre-installed' by the smug fucking Merchants, but her trips and falls hadn't helped their sorry state either. "Ya, a shower would be pretty great right about now."

Mrs. Rain smiled at her. "I don't doubt it after the night you've had. The room is just down the hall, and there should be some spare clothing that fits. If not, I'm sure I can arrange something."

They walked down a similarly luxurious hallway after entering one of the side doors, and quickly approached what she assumed was a guest room. The blond woman opened the door and gestured for her to head inside.

To her utter lack of surprise, a queen sized bed decorated with sheets made of rich fabrics met her eyes, and she couldn't wait to simply collapse onto the undoubtedly comfortable mattress.

Mrs. Rain pointed out the location of the towels, and indicated the door to the bathroom. "Once you're done, spare clothes are in this dresser. Other than that, we'll see you in the morning!"

She turned to leave, but before the chance escaped Sherrel had to ask her a question. "I've heard… a few rumors about this territory. It's why I ran here, and while I am infinitely glad that they've proven true, I also wanted to know about…"

Sherrel paused, hesitating to make the words reality.

"You mean are sexual favors exchanged for protection?" Well, if she just wanted to come out and say it then yes.

"It's something I heard, yes. For saving me… I wouldn't say no anyway but…"

Mrs. Rain abruptly approached her and briefly cupped a hand to her cheek, raising her downcast eyes to meet her own. "Let me first say I'm sorry it came to making a decision like this to begin with, but let me also reassure you it isn't like that. The rumors did spawn from somewhere, but nobody is forced to or required to do anything they don't want to here. We'll explain it further in the morning, but for now let me ease your mind. Your life is now your own, and you're free to do what you like."

There was a sincerity in her voice that made Sherrel believe her, so whatever the situation was, she could accept it. The safety and comfort of a hot shower followed by a comfortable bed called to her, and she was loath to resist it anymore.

"Thank you. I suppose I'll ask more then, but for now... "

"Of course. Take your time, and good night." With that said, Mrs. Rain departed, and Sherrel was left to her thoughts.