The Dragonrider (A Shalma's Destruction Legend): Part V (Patreon)

by DoctorKowalski

Part IV

The bass thudded through the stone floor of the High Aerie's northeast tower. Someone had cleared the furniture from the common room, transforming it into an impromptu dance floor bathed in the warm glow of copper lanterns. Ilyse leaned against the drink table, watching as bodies moved to the music of drums and stringed instruments, a half-empty cup of spiced wine dangling from her fingers.

Across the room, Dahlia and Hazel were laughing with a cluster of second-years, their heads bent close in animated conversation. Soren stood near the balcony doors, deep in discussion with two senior riders. He'd barely acknowledged her arrival with a distracted nod.

"Need a refill?" A tall, broad-shouldered third-year named Coran gestured to her cup with the wine pitcher.

"Absolutely." Ilyse held out her cup, letting her gaze linger on his face a beat longer than necessary. The wine sloshed dangerously close to the rim.

"Careful there," said Finch, another rider who'd been hovering near the drinks. "Though I'd say you handle your wine better than most first-years."

"You have no idea what I can handle," Ilyse replied, voice dropping to that perfect sultry register she'd mastered in recent months.

The boys laughed appreciatively, but something felt off. The attention seemed polite rather than rapt. Where was the magnetic pull she'd grown accustomed to?

Ilyse took a deep swallow of wine, feeling it warm her from the inside. Her silk bodice clung to her skin in the packed room, a thin sheen of sweat making her feel both sticky and slippery. She reached up to brush back a strand of hair that had escaped her carefully arranged style.

"Hot in here," she murmured, fanning herself with one hand.

"Here." A third boy, Reed, handed her a dampened cloth. "For your face."

Ilyse dabbed at her temples and neck, acutely aware of how the movement caused her breasts to press against her bodice. They seemed heavier lately, straining against the fabric that had fit perfectly just weeks ago. She adjusted her position, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of her thighs pressing together beneath her skirts.

"So the western patrol tomorrow," Coran said, filling the momentary silence. "Anyone from your cohort assigned?"

"Just Pipit and Lark," Ilyse replied, fighting a twinge of envy. She'd been passed over twice now for the coveted assignment.

"Smart picks," Reed nodded. "Lark's dragon is wicked fast."

"Raptor could fly circles around Lark's dragon," Ilyse said, a defensive edge creeping into her voice.

"No doubt," Finch agreed quickly, though his eyes had already drifted past her to a willowy second-year who'd just entered.

***

Across the room, Dahlia leaned against the stone balustrade, savoring the brief rush of cool air from the open doors. Beside her, Hazel was deep in conversation with Tanner, a handsome second-year whose dragon had distinguished itself in last week's mountain drills.

"Another?" Ash offered, refilling her goblet without waiting for her response. His fingers brushed hers, deliberate and lingering.

Dahlia smiled but turned her attention back to the room, letting her gaze drift over the crowd. Her eyes caught on Ilyse, who was now gesturing expansively as she told a story, wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim of her cup. Her dark hair had come partly undone, damp tendrils clinging to her neck. Her face was flushed, her movements looser than before.

"Poor thing's hitting the wine hard tonight," Hazel murmured, following Dahlia's gaze.

Dahlia nodded. "Seems Soren's attention has wandered."

They watched as the group of boys around Ilyse laughed, though it seemed more obligatory than genuine. Reed steadied her arm when she swayed slightly.

"She's changed since the bonding ceremony," Ash remarked. "Remember how she looked that night?"

Dahlia shot him a warning glance. It wasn't proper to discuss such things, though everyone had noticed. Ilyse's legendary figure, the one that had turned heads at her dragon bonding just months ago, had softened noticeably. Her silk bodice strained across a fuller bust, the fabric puckering slightly where it met the waistband of her skirt. When Ilyse turned to place her empty cup on the table, Dahlia caught the unmistakable curve of flesh spilling over her waistband.

"She's still settling in," Dahlia said diplomatically. "First year at the High Aerie is an adjustment for everyone."

Across the room, Ilyse threw her head back in laughter, then steadied herself against Reed's shoulder. She reached for a plate of sweetmeats, popping several into her mouth in quick succession, barely pausing between bites.

The music shifted again, and couples moved to the center of the floor. Ilyse attempted to catch Soren's eye, but he remained engrossed in conversation with the senior riders. A flash of hurt crossed her face before she masked it, turning back to her admirers with renewed vigor.

"Another round for my friends!" Ilyse called, her voice carrying across the room, slightly too loud. She fumbled with the wine pitcher, spilling a few drops on her skirt.

"Perhaps someone should see her back to her quarters," Hazel suggested quietly.

"She wouldn't thank you for it," Dahlia replied. "Let her save face."

They watched as Ilyse pressed herself against Finch, her hand on his chest, saying something that made him laugh uncomfortably. Despite the softening of her once-perfect figure, there was still something magnetic about her -a desperate brightness that commanded attention, even as it flirted with making a spectacle.

***

Soren was halfway through polishing his riding gear when the familiar three knocks came at his door. He glanced at the window -well past midnight, which could only mean one thing. He set aside the leather breastplate and crossed to the door, already anticipating who he'd find on the other side.

The sight of Ilyse still managed to surprise him, though. She stood in the corridor wearing her usual silken robe, but the woman beneath it had changed dramatically since their first encounter. Her face appeared noticeably rounded, with full cheeks that flushed pink from either the walk to his quarters or the dragonroot he could smell on her breath -probably both. A developing double chin appeared when she smiled up at him, softening what had once been a defined jawline.

"Hey there," she said, her voice carrying that slight slur that had become all too familiar. "Miss me?"

Soren couldn't help but grin as he pulled her inside. There was something almost comical about how quickly she'd changed. When she'd first shown up at his door months ago, she'd been all dramatic curves on an otherwise slender frame -the kind of body that made third-year guys look twice during flight drills. Now...

As her robe fell open, revealing a body straining against a too-tight nightdress, Soren found himself genuinely amused. She'd gained weight at a pace that defied belief -her once-trim waist now a substantial curve, her thighs pressing together with a soft friction sound when she walked, her arms noticeably thicker with a gentle jiggle when she gestured. Her breasts remained her best feature, now significantly larger though, resting lower on her expanding frame, spilling over the tight confines of her nightdress.

"Been enjoying the dining hall, I see," he teased, his hands finding her hips, fingers sinking into the soft flesh there.

Ilyse laughed, apparently taking his comment as a compliment. "You know how it is after long flights. Burns up all your energy."

Did she really not notice? Or was she just that deep in denial? Either way, it wasn't his problem. She was still Ilyse -still bold, still willing, still showing up at his door when they both needed release.

"Come here," he said, pulling her toward the bed. She moved differently now, her steps heavier, her body swaying with newfound mass. When she climbed onto his mattress, it groaned in protest.

This was definitely pushing the boundaries of his usual type. Soren had always preferred an athletic build, toned from long flights and training sessions. But there was something novel about this -about how her body yielded beneath his hands, how her softness contrasted with his hardness.

For now, at least, it was an interesting change of pace.

She tugged impatiently at his sleeping pants while he worked her nightdress up over her substantial hips. The garment was clearly designed for her former figure; it stretched tightly across her rounded belly and full breasts, the seams straining visibly.

"Let me help with that," he offered, helping her pull the nightdress over her head.

In the candlelight, her transformed body was fully revealed -the dome of her belly protruding forward, soft and round, creating distinct rolls when she bent forward or to the side. Her thighs spread substantially where they pressed against the mattress, dimpled with cellulite that caught shadows in the flickering light. Her arms had developed a softness that made them appear shorter, with little pockets of flesh forming at her elbows. Her breasts remained large and full but now rested against the upper curve of her stomach when she leaned forward.

The most striking change was how her entire body seemed to move as one connected system of soft flesh -each shift of position creating ripples and adjustments throughout her form. When she turned, her belly folded into distinct creases. When she straddled him, her thighs spread wide to accommodate their own fullness. Even her back had developed rolls that were evident when she arched toward him.

Yet she moved with the same confidence as before, seemingly oblivious to how dramatically her body had changed. Her hands roamed his chest with practiced familiarity, her mouth finding his with characteristic hunger.

"You're something else, Ilyse," he murmured against her neck, meaning it in more ways than one.

She took it as a compliment, smiling with dragonroot-enhanced pleasure as she pulled him closer. "You haven't seen anything yet."

As they fell into familiar rhythms, Soren found himself captivated despite his reservations. There was something almost decadent about her abundance -like a feast laid out just for him. Different, yes, but not without its appeal. The way her body yielded and enveloped him, the way flesh moved and shifted with their movements, created sensations he hadn't experienced with more athletic partners.

For now, at least, she still held enough of her original allure to keep him interested. Her face remained pretty despite the added fullness, her eyes still expressive and bright, framed by rounder cheeks that flushed appealingly during intimacy. And her confidence, something he'd always found attractive, hadn't diminished with her expanding waistline.

Later, as she lay sprawled across his bed, her breathing heavy from exertion, her substantial chest rising and falling dramatically, Soren found himself wondering how far this transformation would go. There were rumors about first-years who lost control during their initial year at the High Aerie -too much freedom, too much rich food, too little oversight. But this seemed extreme even by those standards.

"What?" Ilyse asked, catching his appraising look.

"Nothing," he replied, tracing a finger along the new curve of her side, watching how his touch left a momentary impression in the soft flesh. "Just thinking."

"About what?" Her voice held a hint of challenge.

"About how different you are from when we started this."

She rolled toward him, her body shifting with newfound weight, the mattress dipping significantly under her. "Better, you mean."

Soren just smiled, not confirming or denying. Better wasn't the word he'd choose, but there was no point in complicating things. For now, late-night visits from Ilyse remained on his list of welcome distractions -a list subject to revision as circumstances changed.

And circumstances with Ilyse were certainly changing rapidly.

"I should go," she said eventually, struggling slightly to sit up, her movements hampered by her altered center of gravity, her belly folding into distinct rolls as she bent forward. "Early training tomorrow."

He watched as she squeezed back into her nightdress, the fabric stretching to accommodate curves it wasn't designed for. The material caught temporarily beneath the fold of her belly before she tugged it down. The robe barely closed around her, requiring a creative knot to stay in place.

"See you at patrol briefing?" she asked, pausing at the door.

"Wouldn't miss it," he replied easily.

After she left, Soren returned to polishing his gear, his mind lingering on their encounter. He'd never considered himself particularly shallow, but he also knew what he liked. Ilyse was rapidly approaching a turning point -the novelty of her transformation balancing precariously against his natural preferences.

For now, he was still on board with their arrangement. But if things continued at this pace... well, there were plenty of other riders in the Aerie, many of them with physiques more aligned with his usual type.

Time would tell if Ilyse remained on his late-night welcome list. For now, though, he'd enjoy the ride -however much more substantial it had become.

***

"Alright, who's caught your eye this season?" Kellen leaned forward, sloshing ale onto the scarred wooden table.

"That redhead from Eastern Province. Mara." Dorn drained his cup. "Built like a proper rider. Strong thighs."

"Not my type," Soren scoffed. "Too serious. Now Paige -I'd let her ride my dragon any day."

Raucous laughter erupted around the table.

"What about the Valley girl? The one with the dark hair?" asked Fenn, wiping foam from his lip.

"Beth?" Kellen nodded appreciatively. "Yeah, definite possibilities there. Already warming my bed."

"You wish," Dorn snorted. "She's been eyeing Calder since orientation."

"What about her friend? The one who bonded with the big copper?" Fenn asked.

"Ilyse?" Soren's eyebrows shot up. "Gods, did you see her at the bonding ceremony? Tits that would make Leonor herself jealous."

"She's changed since then," Dorn said, lowering his voice. "Saw her in the dining hall yesterday. Girl's putting it away like she's preparing for winter."

"Noticed that too," Kellen smirked. "Academy leathers don't lie. Starting to look like she ate her dragon instead of bonded with it."

"Still would," Fenn shrugged, earning scattered laughs.

"Hmm, wouldn't kick her out of bed," Soren conceded, "but best hurry before she outgrows it."

"To the first-years," Kellen raised his mug. "May they stay tight in all the right places."

"Or at least until after we've had our turn," Dorn added with a wink.

The tavern door swung open, letting in a blast of cold air and three first-year riders. The men fell silent, exchanging knowing glances before turning to assess the new arrivals.

They watched as Ilyse pressed herself against Finch, her hand on his chest, saying something that made him laugh uncomfortably. Despite the softening of her once-perfect figure, there was still something magnetic about her -a desperate brightness that commanded attention, even as it flirted with making a spectacle.

***

Steam swirled above the natural hot springs, creating ghostly shapes in the dim light. Five second-year riders lounged in the heated pool, their day's training behind them, gossip just beginning to flow as freely as the mineral-rich waters.

"Gods, I thought Instructor Valen would never let us land today," Lyra groaned, stretching her arms above her head. "My thighs are still trembling."

"At least you can still feel yours," Maeve replied, sinking deeper into the water. "Mine went numb somewhere around the third hour."

Kira, who had been carefully arranging her copper-streaked hair atop her head, leaned forward conspiratorially. "Speaking of things worth feeling, did you see the new first-years at the welcome ceremony?"

"Hard to miss them," snorted Nessa, the oldest of the group. "Especially that one with the massive copper. What's her name again?"

"Ilyse," provided Daina, quiet until now. "From the Valley regions. She was quite impressive at the bonding."

"Was impressive," Kira corrected, emphasizing the past tense. "Saw her at formation practice yesterday. Girl's looking... different."

"Different how?" Maeve asked, perking up at the hint of scandal.

"Let's just say," Kira smirked, cupping her hands in front of her chest, "the ceremonial armor is getting a bit more ceremonial by the day."

The girls dissolved into poorly suppressed giggles.

"It's not just there," Nessa added, lowering her voice despite the privacy of the springs. "Passed by her in the training halls. Her riding leathers are working overtime."

"Dragonroot," Daina said matter-of-factly. "Classic signs. The glazed eyes, the constant hunger."

"Hunger is right," Lyra nodded. "Spotted her in the dining hall at breakfast. Three plates, and not small portions either."

"Not just hungry for food," Kira waggled her eyebrows. "Heard she's been seen coming out of Soren's quarters at some interesting hours."

"Soren?" Maeve's eyes widened. "He wouldn't... I mean, not with how she's looking these days."

"Men have simpler standards than we do," Nessa shrugged. "And from behind, in the dark..."

Another round of laughter rippled through the steamy air.

"What I don't understand," Daina said, "is how her dragon handles it."

"Poor beast looked strained during ascending drills," Lyra confirmed. "Instructor Valen had to modify the exercise for her."

"At this rate, she'll be grounded by Spring Festival," Nessa predicted. "Maybe even sooner if she keeps up with the dragonroot."

"And the honey cakes," Kira added. "Though I can't entirely blame her. Cook outdid himself this season."

"Speaking of which," Maeve sighed, rising from the water, "I should get back. Early patrol tomorrow."

"With Calder, right?" Lyra teased, splashing water in Maeve's direction. "How convenient for you."

Maeve's blush was visible even through the steam. "It's not like that," she protested weakly.

"Not yet," Kira winked. "But wear those blue riding leathers. They do amazing things for your ass."

"Unlike some people," Nessa added, "you can still pull them on without assistance."

As the conversation shifted to upcoming patrol assignments, the gossip about Ilyse settled into the steamy air, ready to condense and drip into new ears by morning.

Part VI