Chapter 6: Warrior Poet

Iden awoke the following morning with Isabelle’s arm still draped across his chest, her long tail trailing over his thighs. It was heavy enough that he’d have trouble lifting it, limp save for a subtle twitching at its tapered tip, reminding him of the way that a sleeping dog’s ear might flick while it was dreaming. She was clinging to him so tightly, her head resting on his shoulder, her bosom engulfing his upper arm. Her chest rose and fell softly, her breath tickling his neck and blowing the strands of her red hair.

They were glued together by stale sweat, and other, more sordid fluids. The fire had petered out at some point during the night, probably when Isabelle had fallen asleep, and the cold had crept in. He wanted to get up and take a dip in the spring, but he’d have to wake Isabelle to do it. Perhaps she was a heavy sleeper, only one way to find out...

He shrugged his shoulder and let her head slide down onto the silken sheets, moving her arm from his chest, going as slow as he could manage so as not to wake her. Once his upper body was free, he sat up, Isabelle stirring and murmuring as he pushed his hands beneath her fat tail.

The blue scales weren’t quite as rough as they looked. They felt like the pebbles at the bottom of a stream bed, bumpy when taken together, but smooth individually. They were so pretty, their hue changing from blue to green depending on how they caught the light, almost like jewels in their own right. Iden couldn’t help but run his hand across the appendage, stroking it, feeling its bumpy-yet-smooth texture beneath his palm.

The underside was nearly indistinguishable from skin, and when he tried to lift it, his fingers sank knuckle-deep into its layer of cushiony fat. It wasn’t too heavy for him to move, but it took some effort. How was the damned thing so heavy? There was something oddly alluring about it that he couldn’t quite place, it really did feel like a thick, elongated thigh in a way...

“What are you doing?” he heard Isabelle ask, his cheeks already starting to flush as he turned to see her looking up at him. She rubbed her eyes as she yawned widely, still somewhat groggy, but smirking at him all the same. It was just a tail, why did Iden feel like he had been caught doing something that he shouldn’t?

“I was just about to take a dip in the pool,” he stammered, “I need to freshen up.”

“So do I,” she chuckled, pulling the furs about herself to preserve her modesty. “You seem fascinated with my tail. Humans don’t have them, I suppose. I’m curious, what do you make of it?”

“I ... don’t know,” he muttered, wondering what she expected him to say. Did dragons compliment one another’s tails? Was the length, the girth, or perhaps the color a source of pride? The appendage escaped his grasp suddenly, the tip rising to give him a gentle tap on the nose, as dexterous as a finger. It behaved more like a tentacle than a tail, she had such fine control over it.

“Come on,” she said, stretching her arms above her head. “I suppose that you’ll be wanting me to warm the water for you, and after how much you exerted yourself last night, a little breakfast might be in order. What say you to another shank of roast beef?”

Ah yes, ‘last night’. The memories came flooding back to him, sordid images flashing in his mind. He could recall every sensation, every taste and scent, the feeling of her powerful body moving atop his own as she rode him into the sheets. It had felt like a dream, but he knew that it had been real. Iden had bedded a dragon. Was that something to brag about, or a secret that he should take to his grave? He wasn’t quite sure. She had shaken the foundations of his world, opened his eyes to new and unexplored pleasures, taken him in a way that he hadn’t known a man could be taken.

Enough, he thought to himself, his brow furrowing. No more of this stammering and blushing, no more letting this woman lead him around by the nose. He wasn’t some fresh-faced boy who had just tasted his first kiss, he’d had as many women as hot meals, and Isabelle was no different. She might be far stronger than he was, she might possess magical powers that awed and frightened him, but she was still just a woman. He had to assert himself, he had to get back on the horse, so to speak.

“You seemed rather taken with me,” he replied, “don’t forget who was on their back first. When I began my climb up the mountain, I was expecting to slay a dragon, not take one to bed.”

“Well, it looks like someone has regained enough of his faculties to crack wise,” she said as she gave him a wry smile. “Although I found your tongue better suited to ‘other’ activities...”

Iden stood, putting his back to her and stretching, feeling her eyes on his back. He searched for his clothes, intending to get dressed, but then recalled how they had burst into flames.

“Uh ... could I trouble you for something to wear?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder to see her biting her lip at him. She shook her head, barely suppressing a laugh.

“Go wait for me by the pool, I’ll be there shortly. When we’ve had a wash, I’ll make us some new clothes.” He set off, the cave floor frigid against his bare feet. “And remember, Iden,” she called after him. “Your clothes only exist as long as I will it, so keep your wits about you. If I should grow hungry for you again, there will be nothing standing between us, least of all your trousers.”

The water bubbled as Isabelle dipped a toe into the spring, steam rising to the cave ceiling, Iden wasting no time as he dove in to escape the chill air of the cave. He submerged his head, shaking out his hair like a wet dog as he rose to take a breath. In the time that it had taken her to make her way down the snaking tunnel, she had reverted to an entirely human form. Her tail, her horns, and her other draconic features had all receded. She was nude, as there was no reason to conjure new clothes before she was done bathing, and he was a little disappointed to see that her enormous bust had returned to a more modest size. She was still a very fetching woman of course, and he found it hard to take his eyes off her as she stepped gracefully into the water to join him.

She sank up to her neck in the hot pool, letting her mop of auburn hair float on its surface as she relaxed, loosing a contented sigh. After a moment, she tossed him the bar of soap, Iden snatching it out of the air. He didn’t need instructions this time, and he set about cleaning himself, spreading the fragrant lather across his torso as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. It was unusual for him to have two baths in a month, never mind two in the space of so many days.

“So have you decided what you’re going to do yet?” she asked, Iden pausing as he washed his underarms.

“No,” he replied, resuming his work. “I’ve not had time to give it much thought.”

“I’ll say, I’ve kept you rather busy,” she said with a smile. “You can stay here as long as you’d like, take your time. I must say that I ... rather enjoyed your company last night. I was hoping that you shared the sentiment.”

“Aye,” he muttered, pretending to be too busy with his washing to pay her much mind. He didn’t want to admit how good it had felt, she had enough leverage over him already, but he didn’t want to risk insulting her either. “It was certainly interesting, you’re more of a handful than I expected.”

“Iden, are you making puns now?” she cooed. “Perhaps you need more time to recover your wits, I fear that I might have dulled your silver tongue through overuse.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that, and she grinned at him, splashing him with water. She had a certain glow about her this morning, her playfulness was infectious. She had said that she hadn’t been with a man for years, or maybe longer, if he recalled correctly. He felt relieved himself, satisfied, despite a few aches and bruises that had joined his growing collection. He wasn’t sure what kind of libido dragons had, but if they were anything like humans, then her contentment might be many times greater than his own. Iden would probably be foaming at the mouth if he had to go longer than a couple of months without female company.

Isabelle was skirting around the issue, but she clearly wanted him to stay longer. He had shelter, free food, and a willing host. Why should he refuse her invitation? Something nagged at him, however, a voice that kept reminding him that he had come here with a mission. Iden was a man of action, and when he set his mind on something, he didn’t stop until he accomplished his goal. Humoring the dragon was just treading water, delaying the inevitable. He had to figure out a way to get his hands on her gold, or at least to leave the cave in possession of something that would make this venture even remotely worthwhile.

“I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go right now,” he said. His reply seemed to please her, and she went back to lazing in the water. Iden finished washing, and then noticed that she had floated closer to him, extending her hand for the soap. He gave it back to her, and she slunk around behind him. She was submerged up to the bridge of her nose like a crocodile lurking by the bank of a river, her long hair floating in her wake, her green eyes peering at him gleefully as he watched her curiously. She rose out of the pool, and he felt her hands on his shoulders.

“I’ll do your back,” she said, beginning to spread the foamy lather.

“I don’t need you to do my...” Iden’s complaint petered out as he felt her soft hands slide across his skin, her slim fingers following the dimples that his muscles carved into his body. It was so relaxing, and he felt himself sag, sinking into the water a little deeper as she drove her thumbs into the base of his neck.

“I’m happy to have someone to pamper for once,” she said, massaging him as she moved further down his spine. She seemed to be able to locate every knot, and every ache, making slow circles with her fingers as she applied gentle pressure. The soap made her touch slick, almost like they were coated in oil. Nobody had ever done this for him before, it felt amazing. “I’m surrounded by riches, but I have precious little to spend it on.”

Iden flinched, a wonderful wave of pleasure spreading up through him as she found a knot at the base of his spine, working it out with the heel of her hand.

“Where did you learn how to do this?” Iden sighed, having to concentrate so that his legs didn’t give out from under him.

“I’ve accumulated a fair bit of knowledge in my time,” she chuckled, amused by his strong reaction. “You should take better care of yourself, you know. You’ve built up all of this muscle, your body is ... impressive, but you don’t take proper care of it. Look at all these knots, you’re putting far too much strain on your back, you’ll have problems with it later in life. Maybe be a little more careful when you’re lifting cannonballs and swinging war hammers.”

“Most sellswords don’t live long enough to see the consequences of their lifestyle,” he replied, leaning back into her dexterous hands. “I could get used to this, though...”

“You mortals are all alike,” she muttered. “What does it matter if you cause problems in the future, as long as you get what you want right now? You won’t be around to see the negative results of your actions anyway, it will be someone else’s problem! It’s because of that attitude that there’s no more magic in the world, you humans can barely see an inch in front of your noses.”

“I’ve survived beyond thirty,” Iden replied. “In my profession, that’s borrowed time. My strength, my health, it’s all going to get worse from here. Old age will make me slow and weak enough that my job kills me long before my declining health does. Most people rarely live beyond sixty anyway.”

“So the next thirty years of your life have no value?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said, shivering as her questing fingers located another knot and began to rub it. “That’s why I’m here, after all, to find a way out before some eager twenty-year-old skewers me. I want to live to a ripe old age, surrounded by an army of children, but I’m in the wrong line of work.”