Chapter 05

When the soldiers brought Arlena to Boren’s room, some dragons were still making adjustments to it. The first thing she noticed was the destroyed wall between the two rooms. She placed her fingers on the cut of roots on the floor, and a new wave of tears flowed through her eyes. She wanted to ask them why they would do something like that when all they had to do was place stones between the roots, and in just a few years, the roots would widen, creating a passage between the rooms they were aiming for. But all the dragons looked intimidating. They were big, most with black, long hair, and smelled somehow wrong.

“Here’s the dry clothes,” one of the dragons handed her a garment and hurried to help with building the bed.

The dragon’s bed was also different from the elves’. They dug a recess in the ground, and used several boulders to create a base for it and a few heavy, flat stones on top, creating something similar to a table, just low and huge for some reason. In the recess, under the flat stones, they put dry wood, grass, and leaves that they set on fire. The top of the stones they covered with weird materials that looked like fabric but were much thicker and slicker. Only after that did they put an elf’s habitual mattress made out of hay. A few sheets, pillows, and a blanket that looked just like…

“Do you like it, elf?” one of the dragons addressed her while she was looking at the blanket with unhidden curiosity. “It’s the fur of a northern bear.”

“Northern bear?” she looked at him. “Is that some sort of a plant or a mushroom?”

“It’s a creature,” he said through a terrifying smile. “Huge, like this room. —I hunted it myself.” The dragon's rough, calloused fingers wrapped around Arlena's wrist. With a sudden yank, he pulled her towards the bed to press her palm against the fur blanket, keeping his hand heavy on top of hers, and forcing her fingers to sink into the soft texture. “Try how soft it is,” he said, still smiling. “I killed the beast and then flayed it all by myself.” His voice expressed notes of joy.

“A creature?” Arlena tried to pull her hand away, but the dragon's grip was unyielding, holding her hand strong against the fur. “It’s not your pathetic elves' grass, is it?”

She couldn’t say anything back. Her whole body was trembling so much, and all her thoughts were so confused that she thought she might fall to the ground and never rise to her feet again.

Arlena didn’t notice when she ended up alone in the room. Her left hand was still holding the clothes she was given, and she stood against the bed, blindly looking at the blanket, slowly suffocating from the heat and pain that was coming from the fire under the bed.

The fire, for elves, was always associated with an emergency. She saw it only once when she was a young elf. During a big storm, the lightning hit the tree behind the river and created a so-called fire that was so strong that the rain couldn’t ease it. Elves gathered to put out the fire and help animals escape. Many elves, animals, and plants that night were injured with high pain. And dragons… Arlena looked at the corner of the room where more fire was trapped in the dwarves ’-made glass prison. They conquered the fire. She went to the lantern and carefully moved it further from the wall to make sure it wouldn’t hurt the life behind it. The moss and roots were already warm, and she could see that some creatures had already left their houses. Maybe they just don’t know about the life surrounding them, she thought, but then immediately remembered the dragon who was just a few moments ago talking about killing the creature for the sake of a blanket. A blanket that was easy to make out of grass and moss.

“Why are you still in wet clothes?” An already familiar voice made her shudder. Arlena turned to the sound and saw Boren standing at the entrance, which was just recently covered with the beauty of lianas and flowers and now blocked by heavy wood.

“I can’t wear it,” she said quietly and put the clothes on the bed next to her. “Such gowns are meant only for the high priestess.”

“I thought you elves are all equal?” he chuckled and went closer.

“Being chosen as a high priestess is a big honor, given by The Greatest Willow itself.” She began her explanation when her voice faltered from his touch. “Please don’t hurt me,” an almost squick left her lips. Arlena closed her eyes and shrank inside, still thinking about the story of a blanket next to her.

“I’m too tired to hurt you,” he said calmly, protruding his fingers under the harness of her wet dress. His fingers gently moved the fabric from her shoulder as his eyes were carefully studying her every curve. “You, elves are terrible warriors,” he said thoughtfully, and with the other hand, took off a fabric from her other shoulder. “But annoyingly good strategists.”

“Elves are not warriors,” she hardly exhaled. Her body was burning from the amount of fire in the room but even more from his touch. “We’re peaceful creatures.”

She made him chuckle. “No one is peaceful,” Boren’s scorching hands enveloped her chest and pulled the dress down, revealing sensitive, pale skin to his gaze. He pulled the dress even lower, enjoying every inch of her body, thin waist, and small hips. “Elves just need proper motivation, like everyone else.” The wet dress finally fell on the floor, and he took a moment to look at her. Arlena looked scared in his eyes but still calm since she couldn't even imagine what he was about to do with her. It made Boren feel excited even despite the exhaustion. He took a gown from the bed and dressed her.

“Why am I here?” she looked into his eyes.

Boren smiled warmly and tied a belt around her waist. “I don’t like to sleep alone,” he said shortly.

For a second, Arlena hesitated to ask, but it burst out on its own, “Why won’t you sleep with other dragons?”

His smile widened. “They smell bad. And you…” Boren leaned to her neck and deeply inhaled. “You smell like berries,” he said, rather surprised, thinking, would she taste like berries too? Boren's heavy hand lay on her neck and leaned her head aside, opening a thin skin to him. He slowly licked her neck and even her face. No, Boren concluded in his mind. She doesn’t taste like berries, but still sweet. She trembled in his hand like a leaf in the wind. “Are you hungry?” Boren let go of her face.

“No,” Arlena shook her head.

“Good, let’s sleep then.”

“But the sun is still high,” she looked at him with bewilderment.

“I told you, I’m tired.” With an easy motion, he took a metal shield and covered the gap between the bed and the earth, where the fire was burning. He blew out the candle next and covered another gap from the other side of the bed. He blew out the other candle. “Lay down,” Boren said to Arlena and settled himself comfortably on the bed.

“I can’t,” Arlena said, looking at the blanket. “It's death.” The smell that was coming from the fire, and heated leather made her feel sick.

“It’s just fur,” Boren’s arm was heavily covering his eyes as he said tiredly. “It's been a long time not an animal anymore. Lay down; it’ll keep you warm at night.”

“It's disrespectful.” She was adamant. “If an animal has died, it belongs to nature; it has to be left in the woods or brought to the woods to complete its natural cycle.”

“Oh,” he growled loudly. “Alright!” Furiously, Boren left the bed and hurled the fur to the floor. “Are you happy now?” he growled at her.

“It has to be brought to the woo…” she didn’t finish her sentence as he grabbed her by the waist and put her on the bed.

“Yes, yes,” he said immediately, thinking to keep silent about the leather that was placed under the mattress. “We can do that later. And now, since I’m freezing, you’ll warm me.” He pressed her body closer.