Dragon's Wild Blossom

It was the second night Arlena had spent with him, and she was already accustomed to the scorching warmth of his body and the earthy aroma that enveloped him. There was an inexplicable comfort and security she found in his arms, a place where she felt completely at ease.

Early morning sunlight filtered through the branches, casting golden patterns across their tangled forms. His hand pulled her closer, and the heat of his skin made her dizzy with want. His scent filled her lungs as he buried his face in her hair. Shortly, she felt his knee slide between her thighs, the pressure exactly where she craved it most. Each slow rock of his leg against her core sent sparks of pleasure through her body. The rhythm built naturally, like waves against the shore, as the morning light painted patterns on their skin.

Arlena's breath quickened, and she squirmed beneath him, adjusting to a more comfortable position for both of them while keeping her eyes closed. Gradually, his hand on her waist ventured higher, slipping under the thin cotton of her nightgown. A soft moan escaped her lips as Boren's gentle touch found her breast. His fingers moved with tenderness and care, tracing wide circles on the delicate terrain of her chest. Slowly, he narrowed his touch, reaching towards her nipples as if studying the contours with meticulous attention.

Boren pressed his knee more firmly between her hips, and a wave of sweet pleasure elicited a moan from Arlena. She turned more toward him, drawn by the intensified sensation as he pressed her nipple firmly between his fingers and quickened the movement of his knee on her clit. His hot breath on her neck felt scalding and yet incredibly pleasant. His fingers twisted and squeezed her nipple to the point of slight pain, and the breath of both of them deepened. Encouraged, Arlena found the courage to reciprocate, resting her hand on the hard muscles of his arm beneath her nightgown. Only now did she fully realize the sensation of his skin against hers. The desire to remove the gown consumed her from within. His arm on her bare stomach, fingers dancing over her nipple, was simply not enough. She yearned to feel him with her entire body, to press herself against him until she lost herself completely. Arlena began moving in sync with him, grinding against his knee more forcefully, as a wave of pleasure tightened within her, washing away any thoughts or fears. Nothing else existed in her world but this moment and his touch.

"Arlena," his voice sounded quiet. "Arlena," he repeated, pulling her from the depths of drowsiness. Boren stood beside their bed as she opened her eyes, looking at her with unhidden curiosity and a subtle, teasing smile on his face. "What were you dreaming about?" he asked cunningly. "You were moaning so sweetly."

His smile made her realize that it was only a dream. "Nothing," she blushed, unable to take her eyes from the water droplets trailing down his chest.

Rising from the bed, Arlena reached for the hem of her nightgown. Her fingers slid under the thin fabric, lifting it slowly. The cool silk caressed her thighs as she pulled it higher, making her skin prickle under the morning sun rays.

For a moment he couldn't breathe. Boren's muscles tensed as the gown revealed her pale legs, sliding slowly over her slim waist, and caressing the gentle swell of her breasts. Her small, pink nipples hardened in the cool morning air as she pulled the gown over her head, arching her back in a stretch.

Her white hair fell freely down her bare back, and the fabric slipped from her fingers to the floor.

Boren's breath grew ragged, his blood running hot at the sight of her exposed flesh. Tightly, his fingers dug into his palms until it hurt, fighting the primal urge to claim her right this second. Every curve of her body called to something wild in him, making his muscles coil with tension and uncontrollable desire. He could take her right now, so easily - but the delicate beauty before him stirred something deeper than mere hunger. The trust in her movements, her unconscious grace, was a different kind of torture - sweeter, more intoxicating than any forceful conquest could be.

Arlena bent to retrieve her daily dress, unaware how the motion exposed her smooth curves. The sight made Boren's breath catch as his gaze traced down her body to the delicate folds between her thighs, imagining how soft and warm she would feel beneath his fingers.

The thought alone made him swallow hard. Within a moment his mind filled with images of placing his fingers right there, his thumb between her buttocks and other fingers onto that beckoning deepening between her folds, drawing soft moans from those gentle lips, feeling her trembling against his hand. In his mind Boren could see, grabbing her by that thin waist and tossing that light body on the bed. Spreading her legs apart and entering that little pussy. He would thrust inside her until he would finally satisfy his desire.

"Why are you wet?" her voice sounded ethereal through his vision.

"I soaked in a hot spring after training." Boren swallowed his heavy breath.

She lifted her arms to pull on her dress as his pulse raced painfully.The fabric slid over her shoulders while his fingers flexed with need. She adjusted the material around her breasts, each small movement echoed by the tightening in his chest. Her hands smoothed the dress over her stomach as his own palm burned to feel her skin. When her fingers found the corset, Boren's mouth went dry. Each lace she threaded through its eyelet matched the mounting tension in his body. Every pull of the strings drew the fabric tighter around her waist, mirroring how his control stretched thinner. He watched her nimble fingers work the delicate ties, his own hands aching to undo each layer she added between them, to peel away the barriers until nothing remained but skin against skin.

"After training? Is it that late already?" she turned to him and Boren had to wipe his eyes as they became painfully dry from not blinking for too long.

"Yes, the sun is already high in the sky; you slept well."

She paused for a moment. If not for him, she would choose to sleep the whole day and be lost in that dream forever.

“If you want, we can come back to bed,” Boren said as if he heard her thoughts. “And you can tell me all about your dream.” He smiled teasingly, causing her to blush even more.

“I need to go,” she blurted hastily and left the room.

Arlena rushed to the main hall of the priestly tree, hoping to find the high priestess, but she was not there. Then she went to the dragon’s kitchen. She also checked the gardens, but there was nowhere to find the priestess until she saw her returning from the woods holding a heavy bucket of mushrooms. “Priestess!” Arlena ran to her. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” the priestess gave the bucket to the other elf as she noticed how tense Arlena looked. “Is everything alright?” she expressed her concern, gently touching Arlena’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Arlena's eyes were wet from tears, but none of them rolled down her cheeks.

They went back to the woods, a place that now felt like the only safe space for a private conversation. Arlena walked quietly next to the priestess, and neither of them dared to speak. She was ashamed to tell what was bothering her when the priestess was giving her time to gather the courage.

“Did The Greatest Willow Tree ever be wrong?” Arlena finally spoke.

“Not as far as I know,” the priestess replied. “Why do you ask?”

Arlena took a deep breath before replying. “I went there with the General the other day. And the leaves fell,” she paused. “They pointed at him and me.” Eventually, she said, and the priestess stopped, bewildered. Arlena continued, “The leaves were lying on top of each other. Can it be possible that I'm meant to be with two men?” She also stopped and looked at the priestess. Arlena knew that her question was silly, as she knew better than anyone that elves have only one mate for life. For years after her mother’s sudden death, Aron had been visiting The Greatest Willow Tree, hoping to find a new mate, but the tree was always silent.

“Two men,” the priestess said thoughtfully. “Now that I think about it, your connection with Arden was never strong. And leaves were not that close during the ritual. —Do you feel a connection with the General?”

Arlena blushed, remembering tonight’s dream. “I think so,” she said calmly. “But is it even possible? To be connected this way to a different species?”

“I never heard about this; usually, different species don't have such a connection because we can’t procreate with each other.” She touched Arlena’s hand. “Maybe The Greatest Willow Tree wanted you to choose.”

“A baby or a stronger connection? —But it’s so unfair.”

“We can’t always understand life’s ways, but we have to believe that it’s for the greater good.” She paused. “Perhaps you have this connection to help dragons understand life? —After all, he agreed to visit The Greatest Willow with you.”

That day, Arlena chose to spend her time in a garden, helping elves plant more seeds and kept thinking about her fate. Indeed, the tree was never wrong, but was she wise enough to understand its plan for her?

“Petal,” she turned to a dear voice. Aron was still leaning on the wooden crutch when he approached her in the garden. “How are you, my child?”

“Father!” She stood back on her feet and hugged him. “You shouldn't walk that far yet.”

“I’m fine; Arola takes good care of me. —How are you doing?”

She left the garden to go on a short walk through the village with her father. “The elves are working so hard after the dragons came here,” she said. “I wish I could do more than just gardening. The high priestess still doesn't let me in the kitchen, and the woods are all empty now.” She paused before continuing. “We’re planting our own mushrooms, though. I never thought that something like mushrooms could ever run out.” She giggled.

“Indeed,” he smiled sadly at her. “They grow so fast. Although, I think the field of mushrooms wouldn’t be enough to feed these beasts.”

“They’re not beasts. —Just needs a bit of help.”

Aron didn’t reply instantly. The high priestess had a much bigger influence on Arlena than he thought. Just a few days ago, he would have been proud of this, but today, witnessing the drastic changes in the elves' lives after the arrival of the dragons, he wondered if the elvish ways of living were still pertinent. “I’m feeling much better now,” he said, taking Arlena by the hand. “And I’m thinking of joining the resistance in the mountains. —I want you to come with me. And join your future husband.”

His words brought a lump to her throat. “I can’t,” she said immediately, without even thinking. For one, the thought of getting married to Arden was never dear to her, even though she loved him with all her heart; he still was more like a brother to her than a husband. Moreover, she truly wanted to understand why she had a connection with no one else but a dragon. “You should go, though. Maybe out there you’ll be a better help.” She smiled softly. Even though it was painful for her to say goodbye to her father, deep inside, she was glad to know that he wouldn't be a witness to her bond with Boren.

“I can see you're certain in your decision,” he noted, and Aron let go of her hand. “Do you want me to give Arden a message?”

She shook her head; there was nothing she wanted to tell him, especially after their recent fight.

“I see,” Aron said quietly. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us.” Heavily leaning on his crutch, Aron left without looking back at her again, fearing that doing so would rob him of the resolve to leave at all.

“Thank you,” she said after him. The feeling of him respecting her choice gave Arlena more strength and courage to face Boren again.