Chapter 4: Creature Comforts

Iden emerged into another large chamber, albeit somewhat smaller than the first, more torches springing to life as if they had sensed his arrival. As he had suspected, there was an underground spring here. The cave floor tapered into a large basin that was full of clear, blue water. It looked big and deep enough that the dragon should be able to at least partially submerge her massive frame in the pool. There were more columns here, the bulbous flowstone glistening with moisture, masses of stalactites drooping from the uneven ceiling above.

Iden glanced behind him, ensuring that the dragon wasn’t spying on him, then he began to remove his armor. It was always a rather difficult prospect without help, but he eventually succeeded in getting it all off. He stripped off his gambeson and stepped out of his leggings, taking another quick look over his shoulder before removing his underwear.

The floor beneath his feet was so frigid that it almost had him hopping on the spot, but what else had he expected from a mountain cave? He inched closer to the edge of the pool, dipping a toe in, then withdrew it immediately. It was as cold as ice, how did she expect him to bathe in this?

The sound of footsteps echoed in the tunnel behind him, and Iden spun around, covering his loins with his cupped hands as he saw Isabelle standing there. She had reverted back to her human form, her smoldering eyes replaced with the familiar green, her patterned spines giving way to auburn hair. She was wearing a billowy, white blouse that exposed her shoulders, cut low enough to put her cleavage on display. She wore a black corset over the top of it that helped to push up her bust, the laces pulled taut to accentuate her hourglass figure, a flowing gown trailing on the ground behind her.

This wasn’t the attire of a farm girl, she looked more like the wife of an influential Lord, or some kind of expensive courtesan. He understood now what she had meant when she had told him that she had no need of expensive clothes. She seemed to be able to conjure whatever garments suited her. The tattered shawl and the patched skirt that she had worn had merely been part of the illusion.

Her eyes played up and down his naked body, drinking in the contours of his muscles, tracing the faded scars that peppered his tanned skin. She made no attempt to disguise her curiosity. For some reason, he felt a warmth growing in his cheeks. He was no stranger to the female gaze, it wasn’t uncommon for his partners to lie in bed beside him after a romp, playing their fingers up and down his torso as they admired his impressive physique. Something about the way that Isabelle was looking at him made him feel oddly embarrassed, however. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he was naked and shivering, while she was clothed and perfectly at ease.

“I thought that you might want a little help,” she said, giving him a knowing smile as she strode past him. She approached the edge of the pool, her long gown dragging behind her, then she knelt to dip a finger into the water. Almost immediately, the surface of the spring began to bubble, clouds of steam rising from its disturbed surface. She was boiling it, more of her magic no doubt.

“This should be more to your liking,” she said as she rose to her feet, turning to face him again. Iden was still stood there with his hands between his legs, hunching over a little, trying not to look as awkward as he felt. She let her eyes linger on him again, enjoying his discomfort, and then she took a seat on a nearby rock. It seemed that she intended to watch.

“Can I get some privacy?” he asked, hobbling over to the pool and dipping his foot in. It was balmy now, she had heated the entire spring in a matter of seconds.

“Not if you want to get clean,” she replied. She crossed her legs, letting her gown ride up a little, exposing her thighs in a way that might have seemed unintentional if Iden hadn’t known better. He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but he didn’t have much of a choice, and so he waded into the spring. The rocks beneath his feet were smooth, and there wasn’t much debris, the warm water rising to his waist. Fortunately, the dim lighting and the rising steam gave him enough cover that he felt comfortable enough to move his hands from his groin.

“Catch,” Isabelle said, tossing an object at Iden. He caught it in his hands, seeing that it was a block of soap. He sniffed it experimentally, noting that it smelled of lavender. She must have recovered it from a trading caravan, or perhaps the entourage of some rich and influential woman, soap was a rare commodity.

“Do you know how to use it?” she asked.

“I’ve never spent my money on fancy soaps before, but yeah, I get the idea. You just wet it and rub it on your body, right?”

“Rub it between your hands until it creates a lather,” she explained, “then spread it on your skin. It will help to wash off all the grime, and it should make you smell a little more appealing.”

He chuckled at the absurdity of the situation as he began to spread the foam about his chest and under his arms. A mercenary bathing like royalty, whatever next? Was she going to cut his hair, and clean his fingernails?

“How do you like it?” she said, resting her head in her hand as she watched him.

“Well, I’m starting to smell like a perfumed princess, but it feels pretty good to get clean. I’m more accustomed to bathing in lakes and rivers, if I have the time at all.”

“I noticed,” she chuckled.

He washed his stubbly face, and then threw his mop of wet hair back, running his fingers through it. As he spread the slippery lather across his stomach, he was acutely aware of Isabelle’s green eyes following his hands. She was downright lecherous, it made him feel like he had been tricked into putting on a show for her. Was this just another one of her games? Why would a dragon be attracted to a mortal man, anyway? Would her preferences not include razor teeth, tough scales, and leathery wings?

“Let me know if you need to me wash your back,” she added, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh. “I must admit, you’re quite the specimen. I thought that all your talk of womanizing might have been bluster, but I can see how the average girl might fall head over heels for a man like you. You’re taller than most, broad-shouldered, with an impressive physique thanks to your ... rather taxing choice of profession. Long, dark hair, rugged features, enough scars to show that you know how to handle yourself. I’ll bet that when you ride into town, the local girls just salivate over you, don’t they?”

It sounded like a compliment, but somehow her assessment made Iden feel self-conscious. He was usually the one examining women, judging them by their assets, scanning a tavern in search of the prettiest girls to bed before he had to move on to his next job. She was right, of course. He was accustomed to women folding at a mere glance, their fantasies so often revolved around dark, handsome men with an air of danger about them riding into town to sweep them off their feet.

But now, it was Isabelle who was playing that role. Despite her subdued appearance, he knew her to be far larger and far stronger than any human could ever hope to be, she radiated a supreme confidence that he almost found intimidating.

“So ... is Isabelle your real name?” he asked, dodging her question.

“Real enough,” she replied. “Dragons have many names, and humans would stand no hope of pronouncing them.”

“Why did you choose Isabelle? Have you used that identity before?”

“Not really,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “There was no grand scheme, it was simply the first name that came to mind. It’s a pretty name, though, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose so,” Iden muttered, leaning down to spread the lather between his legs. He could feel her eyes on him as he finished washing, and once he was done, he lay down and let himself sink a little deeper into the water. It was so warm and pleasant, the spring was just the right temperature, all of the aches and bruises that he had sustained during his short bout with the dragon seeming to melt away. He let his mane of black hair float around his head, and closed his eyes, drifting on the calm surface. It got deeper towards the center, and so he stayed close to the edge.

When he opened them again, Isabelle was standing beside the pool. He rose to a standing position with a start, covering himself up.

“Relax,” she chuckled, reaching out a hand. “I just want my soap back. It’s expensive, you know. If you leave it in the water, it’ll dissolve.”

He fished it out of the pool and handed it to her, Isabelle placing it on the rock floor.

“How’s the water?” she continued. “I might join you, it’s been a while since I bathed in human form.”

“I’d prefer that you didn’t,” he grumbled.

“Iden,” she began, her voice laced with mock concern. “Whatever has come over you? You couldn’t take your eyes off me when you thought that I was a simple farm girl, you’d sneak a look at me every chance that you got, but now you seem almost afraid of me. I gave Isabelle all of the right features, wouldn’t you say?”

He tried to ignore her as she leaned forward, letting her plump, pert breasts hang within her loose blouse. They were so tantalizingly close to spilling out of the lacy fabric, with nothing to restrain them, her cleavage cast into deep shadow by the flickering torchlight. Her long, red locks fell about her bare shoulders, the leather of her tight corset creaking as she moved.

“She’s as real as she needs to be, I can assure you of that. What do you think of my handiwork?” she asked as she brushed aside her hair to expose more of her chest. “As a man, and a mortal at that, I’m interested in your opinion. Is her bust full and shapely enough for your liking? Are her legs not long and slender? I made her thighs strong, her rump firm and shapely. Her belly is muscled by a lifetime of labor, or at least, an imagined one. Then there are the things that you can’t see. Her skin is as soft as fine silk, her flesh yielding. Will you not sample it, and give me your opinion?”

“What exactly do you expect of me?” Iden replied, hoping that she might write off the flush in his cheeks as a result of the steam. “Do you mean to seduce me? If so, state your intentions openly.”

He was not one to turn down the advances of a comely woman under normal circumstances. In fact, women were his vice, his weakness. But this was a dragon. He had seen her as she truly was, near thirty feet long, and covered in armored scales. Even in her human form, he was wary of her. The memories of her sharp claws, her fiery breath, and her flashing teeth were still fresh in his mind.

Isabelle rolled her eyes and loosed a sigh, sitting down on the rock beside the pool in a decidedly unladylike manner.

“Is a little company, a little conversation too much to ask?” she grumbled. “Do you know how long it has been since I was able to have a conversation with someone who knew of my true nature?”

Iden was a little taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor, and he shook his head.

“Tell me, how many dragons do you see flying around these days? How often are we spoken of?”

“Rarely, if ever,” he replied.

“I haven’t laid eyes on another dragon in more than two hundred years,” she lamented, crossing her arms over her knees as she stared vacantly into the water. “There used to be thousands of us, back when the world was brimming with magic. Once it began to wane, the mortals started to hunt us. At first, it was for our magical properties, to take possession of our horns and scales so that they might cast spells or brew potions. Then, it was out of greed, for the wealth that we hoarded. Finally, fear motivated them. Over the generations, they forgot that we were intelligent, emotional creatures, and they began to see us as little more than feral animals to be slaughtered.”

“You speak of a world brimming with magic,” Iden wondered, “what do you mean by that?”

“You were born too late to have known of it,” she replied, keeping her green eyes fixed on the pool. “There was a time when magical beasts roamed the land freely, when Elves inhabited the woodlands, and when dragons soared across the skies. There were merfolk in the lakes, centaurs on the plains, and mortals lived alongside all manner of beings that have since faded into myth in the world of men. Your lives are fleeting. Over the generations, history is lost, and the truth fades into legend.”

“What happened to them all?” Iden asked, transfixed by her tale now. “If there was so much magic in the world, where did it all go?”

“The Elves were driven from their forest homes, the dragons were slain, and mortals fabricated new Gods to replace the old. Now, rather than communing with nature spirits, men worship false Gods in elaborate cathedrals. Paladins roam the land exacting their brand of justice upon whatever their leaders deem unholy, and what vestiges of the forgotten world that remain are chased away. Every magical creature that dies takes a little of the world’s magic with them, and now there is all but none.”

“I ... had no idea about any of this,” Iden muttered, not really knowing what to say. So her motivation was loneliness, she had lived in isolation for who knows how long, longer than he had been alive. The only way that she could find company was to put on a mask, in a sense, pretending to be someone that she was not in order to have fleeting encounters with humans. He felt like he should attempt to console her somehow, but he didn’t know what to do, and so he just stood there in the water.

“You’re the first person in an age that has seen me in my true form, and has lived to tell of it,” she continued. “Will you not grant me the pleasure of your company, at least until you decide what to do next?”

“I thought you wanted me to leave?” he asked, “you seemed rather insistent when you were chasing me around the cave. But now, you want me to stay?”

“We were at odds before, but now we’re not,” she explained. “And you have nowhere else to go. You showed me hospitality, I will return the favor.”

“Alright,” Iden replied, if only to calm her down. “It’s not like I have any other options right now.”

“Good,” she said, seemingly satisfied. “Now, if you’re done washing, I’ll fetch you some clothes.”

“What’s wrong with mine?” he asked.

“Besides the fact that they’re filthy? You can’t spend all of your time in a gambeson, you might as well wear your battle armor all day. I’ll get you something clean to wear, and then you can wash your outfit later.”

“Okay,” he said with a shrug. “Do you have anything that will fit me? I’m bigger than most.”

“I think I can manage,” Isabelle chuckled, rising to her feet and gesturing for him to follow her. “Out you come.”

“Do you have a towel for me?”

“You won’t need one,” she replied with a wink.

Iden emerged from the water reluctantly, hunching over and covering his loins with his cupped hands again. The dragon never missed an opportunity to ogle him, making no attempt to disguise her peeking. The water was making him shiny, accentuating his muscles, and he began to shiver again as he left the warmth of the pool. Isabelle waved her hand, and he felt a sudden heat. It was as though he had just stepped out into the summer sun, the moisture on his skin evaporating in a puff of steam.

“D-don’t burn me!” he stammered, Isabelle cackling at him.

“Relax, you big baby. I’m just drying you off. You really are scared of magic, aren’t you?”

“I’m not ‘scared’ of it,” he grumbled, “but I’ve seen you set a tower shield glowing like a hot iron with naught but your breath. Is it not reasonable to be wary of it?”

“You’ll just have to trust me,” she replied with a smirk.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t find you especially trustworthy...”

“Keep still,” she added, looking him up and down. “This might frighten you.”

He braced himself, wondering what she meant, and then his eyes were drawn to a wavering light beneath him. There were flames licking at his bare feet, sprouting from the rock itself. His first instinct was to leap clear, but he suppressed it, noting that there was no heat. How could fire be cold? He shut his eyes tightly as they crept up his body, engulfing him in a roaring inferno, like he was being burned alive on a pyre. It was such an alien sensation, to be able to touch flames without being scorched, it almost felt like soft fabric was caressing his skin.

He felt a tightness about him, as if something was constricting his chest. When he dared to open his eyes again, he found that he was clad in a set of fine clothes. There was a tunic made from crimson silk, the neck cut low, the fabric almost uncomfortably tight about his chest and upper arms. There was also a pair of black leggings that clung to his figure, similarly restrictive abound his rump, and he resisted the urge to reach down and adjust his groin. There were a pair of soft-soled shoes on his feet, and a leather belt about his waist, it had all appeared from thin air.

“Now you’re looking a lot more presentable,” Isabelle said, Iden scowling at her.

“How did ... you’ve dressed me like some kind of ... pompous Lord. This tunic is so tight that I can barely breathe!”

“Trust me, it suits you just fine,” she chuckled. “Now off you go, back to the main chamber. After you, of course...”

She followed behind him as he set off up the tunnel, his flat-soled shoes slipping on the moist stone. He felt her eyes on his back, and he looked over his shoulder to see her grinning at him. His trousers were so tight that they almost creaked, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was admiring...