Chapter 03

Boren had a reputation as a strong and intelligent dragon. As the son of a grand general, he climbed the military ladder from a very young age, earning respect with numerous victories. Today added another triumph to his record.

Despite elves being relatively easy targets for dragons, the recent fight in the fields had greatly exhausted Boren. His muscles ached, and his head felt foggy from several sleepless nights.

“Show me around,” he took the high priestess by the hand.

She didn’t reply. The tall dragon looked threatening compared to any other creature she had ever seen in her life. While dragon bodies were generally bigger than elves’, this one particularly looked huge, even compared to other soldiers. Obediently, she invited him into the elderly tree, the biggest one in the village. The house of the high priests was located under its roots, extending to several floors above, carefully built around a net of branches.

“This is the grand tree,” she explained to Boren as they went under the roots that were creating a huge sheltered space in the main hall. The floor of that space was lined with stones and moss, with tangled vines of plants waving over the roots, creating a beautiful kaleidoscope of colorful spots from the sun shining through the leaves and blooming flowers.

The hall wasn’t furnished with the usual dragon furniture. Instead, there were only a few stones placed around the space that served as chairs, benches, or even tables. Most likely, those stones had been in those places ages before elves inhabited the valley.

“Everyone out!” Bortrand, who followed Boren and the high priestess into the hall, growled like thunder, making the birds fly away from the wall-like roots. He was a captain and a good friend of Boren, with short, black resin hair.

For a moment, all elves who had just been peacefully spending their time in the hall, discussing everyday matters or the new guests, froze in their places, confused by the noise this stranger made. Yet, they all at once left the hall after the high priestess nodded her head as if approving the intention.

“Elves gather here for different types of discussions about the upcoming harvest year or if any of us are looking for public advice or solutions,” she continued the tour calmly despite the tens of dragons entering the sacred place with their metal noises, loud voices, and heavy outfits that were harming the moss, clover and tiny blooming flowers under their feet, bringing along a careless mess.

“Yeah,” Boren drawled tiredly and indifferently. “Where are the chambers?”

“Of course,” the high priestess said, abashed, and pointed to the right side of the hall. “We don’t have many spare rooms, but local residents would be happy to allocate a bed in their houses. Just please, don’t hurt anyone.”

Boren looked at her deep green-like ocean eyes. The war made him harsh, but he always respected the way of life of other creatures, especially elves. “My soldiers are tired,” he replied. “They’re hungry and angry. But I‘ll make sure that they’ll respect your way of life.”

The high priestess slightly smiled and nodded in gratitude. From the spacious hall, they headed to a long corridor. On one side were multiple rooms lined in a long line along the stone-paved trail, and on the opposite side was a garden with low trees, bushes, and flowers. The rooms were built in a way that surrounded the garden.

“Most of these rooms are free to use,” the high priestess raised a heavy curtain of crawling plants, serving as a door to one of the rooms. This room was much more private, and the walls, still made out of roots or branches, were covered with much thicker plants and moss but still full of gaps for the sunlight to come. “I’ll show you everything that's available.”

“Free all of them,” Boren said firmly. “Where is the biggest chamber?”

The high priestess hesitated for a moment and then led Boren to the far corner of the corridor. “I believe this one would be the biggest one,” she said, opening another plant curtain to show Boren a room almost identical to the first one they had seen.

“Is this a joke?” Boren started losing his patience.

“No,” she said calmly. “It is the biggest room, at least for one or two elbows.”

“Fine,” he exhaled deeply. “Where is your chamber?”

Surprised by this question, she didn’t mind showing it anyway. “This way,” she led him to the room on the side opposite the main hall.

Under the plant curtain, Boren found the same type of room. No wonder the high priestess couldn't understand why he wanted to see so many rooms since all of them were almost identical.

Boren clenched his jaw in discontent. “Fine,” he finally said. “I’ll take this one.”

“Of course,” the high priestess replied obediently.

"You and your husband can take the chambers next to the hall," Boren said, his voice low and rough with exhaustion. His large, battle-worn hands moved to the heavy belt at his waist, unclasping it with a slow, deliberate motion. The sword hung heavily from the belt, and as he pulled it free, the weight of it seemed to drag his arm down. With a careless gesture, he let the belt and sword fall to the corner of the room, the metal clanging against stone and crushing a few delicate, glowing mushrooms beneath it.

The high priestess nodded slightly, her eyes widening as Boren reached up to his broad shoulders, his fingers finding the straps of his metal breastplate. He rolled his shoulders back, the muscles rippling beneath his sweat-stained undershirt as he worked the buckles loose. Each movement was heavy, weighted with fatigue, but there was an inherent grace to it, a power that could not be fully diminished by weariness.

As the breastplate came free, Boren let out a low groan, the sound rumbling through his chest. He set the armor aside, the air around him immediately assaulted by the musky, masculine scent of his exertions. The undershirt clung to his chest, damp with sweat, outlining the hard planes of his muscles.

"Order to prepare a bath for me," Boren instructed, his fingers moving to the leather straps of his legplates. He bent down, the motion slow and heavy, as he began to work the fastenings. The leather creaked under his touch, the sound mingling with his deep breaths in the quiet of the room.

"We don't have a bath," the high priestess said, her voice strained. She swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure as Boren straightened up, the legplates falling away to reveal the powerful lines of his thighs. "Elves use the rivers, lakes, waterfalls..."

Boren waved a hand impatiently, cutting off her explanation. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed and began pulling off his boots. The smell of leather and sweat intensified, filling the room and making it hard for the priestess to breathe.

“The hot springs,” the high priestess insisted, determined to finish her list.

At that, Boren's head snapped up, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a sudden intensity. "Are they far from here?" he asked, his voice rumbling through the space between them.

The high priestess moved to the window, pointing to a rocky area just visible through the foliage. "Just behind the garden," she said. "I can have them prepared for you."

A slow smile spread across Boren's face at the prospect, his full lips curving sensuously. "Do that," he said, his voice a low command. "And send one of my soldiers to attend to me."

The high priestess nodded, hurrying from the room.

With a heavy sigh, he stretched his arms above his head, the muscles of his back and shoulders flexing powerfully beneath his damp shirt. The prospect of sinking into steaming water, of letting the heat soothe his aching body, filled him with a deep, primal longing. It had been far too long since he had indulged in such a luxury, and the anticipation alone was enough to send a shiver of pleasure down his spine. Months without hot water was tormenting for a dragon, a creature well-resistant to cold but highly appreciative of warmth.