Chapter 13: The Dripping

The water steamed in lazy curls that rose toward the cavern ceiling and vanished into that darkness there. Barjuchne lowered herself into the hot spring with a sigh that rumbled through her chest, her scales clicking softly against the smooth stone basin. The heat seeped into her muscles, easing tensions she had not realised she carried. Her tail coiled beneath the surface, the tip occasionally breaking through to flick water across the rocks. It was hard being a dragon.

But this right here was perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Before the heat of the water had reached her, something else had hit her first. A sharp, acrid smell, faintly sulphurous, rising from somewhere deep in the rock beneath the spring’s basin. She pressed one palm flat against the cavern floor and felt it through her dungeon sense. Beneath the rock of her dungeon core, she felt something else. It was not water this time, but pressure. Something volatile and flammable, sealed inside a pocket of stone far below the gate passage, close enough to the mountain’s front face that it made the rock above it hum faintly with trapped energy. There was some kind of gas, she thought, that was trapped in the mountain stone. Interesting. She didn’t exactly know what to do with a pocket of likely noxious cave gas some hundreds of metres below the rock, but it would find its purpose, as everything in her new world did at some point.

This one just hadn’t found its moment yet.

For now, it was just another treasure of hers. She learnt from Rou-ya that such things need not be material objects alone. But something about the knowledge pleased her in a way she couldn’t entirely explain.

But she filed it away for now.

Maybe she would have Veliah and Rou-ya show and tell her many new things later today that she could add to her hoard.

So far, however, today was seemingly a quiet day. Finally. She planned to spend every last minute of it right here, sitting in peaceful, utter, silent bliss in her hot springs. There were no tribute caravans expected to arrive. No terrified emissaries to deal with. None of that ‘Dragon Queen’ stuff. She might as well plan on taking the day off.

Barjuchne closed her eyes and let her head rest against the edge of the pool. The dungeon hummed around her with quiet ambient magic, a presence she had grown accustomed to over the weeks. Her claws flexed beneath the water, she lazily reopened her lids and lie there quietly in the waters, watching the phosphorescent moss cast green-blue light across the rippling surface.

Footsteps echoed from the tunnel entrance. Barjuchne’s eyes snapped open.

A goblin warrior appeared at the threshold, spear in hand, clearly on patrol. He froze when he saw her, his yellow eyes going wide. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

“Great queen,” he managed, his voice cracking. “I did not mean to disturb -“

“It’s fine,” Barjuchne said quickly, trying to sound reassuring. Surely there had to be something important or he wouldn’t have come all the way down here to the core. She knows the poor guys are terrified of her. But the words came out as a low growl that echoed off the cavern walls with draconic resonance. The goblin stumbled backward, nearly dropping his spear.

“My apologies!” He bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the ground. “I will leave immediately! Please forgive the intrusion!”

“No, wait, I didn’t mean -“

But he was already gone, his footsteps retreating at a sprint down the corridor.

What did he even want?

Well, whatever. If it was a big deal, somebody would say something.

Barjuchne slumped back against the stone, water sloshing around her shoulders. She closed her eyes again and tried to recapture the peaceful feeling from moments before. The water was still hot.

The silence returned. She exhaled.

But then, more footsteps. Lighter this time. Barefoot. Barjuchne did not need to open her eyes to know who approached. The faint scent of herbs and the particular rhythm of movement gave it away.

Veliah.

“I’m bathing,” Barjuchne said, keeping her eyes closed.

“I can see that.” Veliah’s voice held that careful neutrality she used when approaching the dragon. “I brought clean fabrics and a scented soap. I thought you might want them. They came with the last tribute from the villages. Well, the fabrics at least,” said the elf. “The soap Rou-ya made.”

Oh. That was nice of her.

Barjuchne cracked one eye open. The elf stood at the pool’s edge, holding a folded stack of linen and a bar of something that smelt vaguely of lavender.

“Thank you,” Barjuchne said.

Veliah set them on a nearby rock, carefully out of splashing range. She hesitated, her green eyes studying the dragon with that analytical look that meant she was thinking something she had not yet decided to say aloud.

“Was there something else?” Barjuchne asked, trying very hard to sound patient rather than annoyed.

It came out sounding imperious. Commanding. Like a queen dismissing a servant rather than a tired person asking a genuine question.

Veliah’s shoulders tensed fractionally. “No. I’ll leave you to your rest.”

“Ah, wait. Why don’t you stay a while and -“

But the elf was already walking away, her footsteps quiet and measured. Not running, because Veliah had too much dignity for that, but definitely leaving faster than she had arrived.

Barjuchne sank deeper into the water until only her eyes and nose remained above the surface. Bubbles rose around her snout as she exhaled in frustration. This was supposed to be relaxing. Somehow it wasn’t. How bothersome.

She stayed submerged for a long moment, watching the cavern ceiling waver through the rippling water.

Was there something going on that they needed her to handle? Was she being irresponsible by trying to just not do anything for a change?

The dragon girl surfaced with a splash, water streaming from her scales, and reached for the soap Veliah had brought. Rou-ya made this? Barjuchne sniffed it suspiciously, like an animal that had found an oddity in the woods.

“Wow. That’s really nice,” she muttered to herself. She didn’t know Rou-ya could make these sorts of things too. She’ll be sure to compliment the goblin princess on her work next time she sees her. Real soap. What an unfathomable luxury.

As for Veliah, Barjuchne makes a note to apologise for sounding too harsh later on. It’s a real problem she has to deal with. It’s just the nature of a dragon to be naturally frightening, even despite her own conscious efforts.

Barjuchne scrubbed at her scales, working the soap into the grooves between the armoured plates. The scent filled the cavern with something almost pleasant, covering the usual mineral smell of the springs. Her muscles gradually began to relax again despite the interruptions. The heat worked its magic, easing the constant tension she carried in her shoulders and back.

Oh well. Even with a couple awkward moments, this was still nice. It’s good to have some quiet time, finally.

This was –

“- My Queen?”

The dragon’s head whipped around, water spraying in an arc. Adjusting to the light, her eyes narrowed; the red slits glowed toward the approacher. The goblin princess Rou-ya stood at the tunnel entrance, clutching what looked like a stack of leather maps against her chest. The goblin princess froze mid-step, her golden eyes going wide.

“I- I can come back,” Rou-ya said quickly.

“No, it’s -” Barjuchne stopped herself before she could finish the sentence. Whatever she said would come out wrong. It always did. She took a slow breath, trying to find words that would not sound threatening. “What do you need?”

The question rumbled through the chamber with unconscious authority. Rou-ya flinched, her grip tightening on the documents.

“I had some ideas,” the goblin said, her voice smaller than usual. “For the outer defences. But it can wait. I should not have interrupted.”

“No,” Barjuchne tried, wanting to say that she wasn’t interrupting at all. She’d actually be very happy to hear all about it. But that one single word is all that came out and it came out sounding exactly like a dismissal.

Rou-ya’s green ears flattened against her skull. “Oh. I… Of course. I apologise for the intrusion.”

She turned to leave.

“Rou-ya, wait -“

But the goblin princess was already retreating down the corridor, her footsteps quick and nervous. The documents rustled as she clutched them tighter, and then she was gone, leaving Barjuchne alone once more in the steaming water.

The dragon stared.

“…The soap is really nice,” muttered Barjuchne.

Was it her? Was she doing something wrong? Barjuchne held her hand in front of her mouth, checking her breath. It smelt fine. She took a bite of the soap, hoping it would fix her. It did not. It only gave her an extremely bitter, bubbly foam along her teeth. Barjuchne let her head fall back against the stone with a dull thunk. The sound echoed through the empty chamber, mocking her failure. She stared up at the ceiling, watching steam curl and twist in the dim light.

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Dragon Queen or not, she just wasn’t that good at talking to people when she was in ‘dragon mode’, and she couldn’t really control that. Sometimes she’s still just herself, but in this body. And sometimes, she was the body, despite herself.

— If that made sense.

The water rippled around her as she shifted position, trying to find a comfortable angle.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to be human. It wasn’t that long ago, was it? Only a few months, maybe. The memories were already fading, worn smooth. Memories of that other life, that other world.

Maybe this was just her life now.

Again, a new small sound caught her attention. There’s a splatting. Barjuchne opened one eye.

A juvenile slime stood at the far edge of the pool. It had apparently wandered in whilst she was wallowing. It must have got lost. Usually they don’t come down this far.

“Hey there, little guy,” Barjuchne said softly, giving her best effort yet to not be terrifying.

The juvenile monster tilted itself, wobbling, perking with interest as it jiggled around toward the sound of her voice.

Bemused, Barjuchne rested her head on her folded arms on the rim of the hot springs, looking at the little slime that came closer, carefully prodding around as it felt its way to her folded arms.