ILLYRIS | xxi. "REALITY... WHAT?." THE LAST DRAGON
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THE AIR WAS crisp that January morning. A sheet of snow rolled across the grass, thin enough for prickly heads of grass to peek through and patches of green to compliment the cerulean sky. Midtown Tech had an institute day, landing Thea out by Kissena Lake, perched on a bench with Rhaegon's head nestled in her lap. She tucked the red and green dog leashes and collars behind her. The dragons seemed to not mind the occasional dog-disguises and Thea found herself holding her breath on more than one occasion in fear the spell would wear off and they would spit flame while wagging their furry tails.
Now, she could take a break from the spell. No joggers, bicyclists or dog-walkers had passed by, leaving the three of them alone for a sweet moment of the winter.
Vissera was out in the sky, free as a bird. Her shadow rippled over the lake as the bronze dragon gracefully dove in. Seconds later, she burst out with a silvery trout flopping between her jaws. A quick flick of her neck and a spurt of flames roasted the fish before it disappeared down the female dragon's gullet. Droplets of water rained down from her wings that were just about twenty feet long now.
In four months, the two creatures had grown nearly three times their size. They often tried to perch on Thea's shoulders but now, their scaled heads alone took up most of her lap. She was able to properly track their growths, even doing a few sketches of their physical evolution.
Both Rhaegon and Vissera had two sets of frills that ran along the backs of their necks and spine and another two centered closer to the backbone. Under the sunlight, the red or greenish bronze skin looked like webbing between longer spines. Male dragons seemed to have extra lines of frills down the sides of their necks, like "awesomely long mutton chops'' in the most appropriate name Ned could come up with. Large ridges of horns framed the edges of both their faces, running along the back of the skull and along the jawline.
Thea's fingers gently came to a stop on Rhaegon's head. He let out a soft hiss, the rumble from his throat vibrating against her thighs. She chuckled, hushing him softly as his head nudged closer into her touch. His frills raised and flared as she rubbed her knuckles against his scales and they settled slowly as his red-orange eyes blinked slowly.
"You're so needy, you know that?" she muttered, grinning.
Rhaegon was the first to fly above water, to pass between the clouds, and the first to kill prey. He was tougher, meaner, and stronger yet he always wanted to be close to her.
Suddenly, the dragon's frills raised sharply. A menacing growl escaped his jaws as he turned around, prompting Thea to pivot on the bench.
"Rhaenerys Valaryen. The Mother of Magic, Blood of Old Sovranys, the Dragonborn, the Maegya of the Great Westlands... and you go by Thea. Am I missing anything else?"
