The Brightest Sun

Chapter 23

It was mornings like this that Harry cursed the continued presence of the dragons.

Sharp claws dug into the thin sheets, and Harry opened his eyes to glare blearily at the damned thing lying heavily on his chest.

“Auriga,” he hissed. “Get off me.”

The black Horntail chirped, “Off. Off.”

It had come as quite the horrid surprise when he realized that Teddy was entirely serious about teaching the dragons Parsel.

“Egg and Rhae have dragons, but I’ll be the one to translate, Papa,” he had said proudly. “Adam thinks we can do it.”

Unsurprisingly, the little things took to parselmouth as easily as they did to walking. It had been touch and go for some time, but Harry had been ordered by his eldest to speak only in Parsel to the dragons, and they were slowly learning the language. Teddy had been exceedingly pleased at the thought of communicating with the dragons; Harry and Elia had exchanged relieved glances at the knowledge that at least he would be able to speak to them if they got out of hand. They were still babies, even though they weighed a fair amount by now, and exuberantly followed  after their respect riders.

Auriga reached as high as his hip when on her haunches, able to fly low to the ground and had started breathing fire well over a month ago. Iacomus was larger, the grey scales glinting silver in the right lighting, and had stubbornly learned to breathe fire soon after Auriga though he was grasping the parselmouth faster. That Egg had named his dragon after his father had left the man boasting for all to hear, exceedingly pleased with the thought.

“Rhae!” he called, hearing the pitter-patter of her footsteps as she ran down the hall.

The dark-haired princess flew into his room, leaping easily onto his bed as Auriga’s talons clenched tightly to the sheet.

“What have your mother and I told you about the dragons?” he asked.

“But Dad, Auri just wanted to say happy birthday,” she said with exasperation, and Harry felt his heart melt a little. The little girl had only begun to call him that the day they found the dragons, and Harry was well aware she knew exactly what effect that had on him.

Sly little girl, he thought fondly.

“My birthday was yesterday,” he pointed out, poking her in the side as she squirmed into place next to her companion. He couldn’t outright call the dragons a pet; they were far too intelligent to be considered such, nor did it feel right when the bond clearly went both ways.

Rhaenys sat cross-legged next to him, her expression determined, and Harry was reminded of the little girl who had demanded an oath from him all those years ago.

“Dad, do you not like Mama?”

Blinking, Harry stared up at the little girl in astonishment. Rhae’s purple eyes were steely, though he could see a slight spark of hesitance and mischief. Gesturing to Auriga, Harry waited until she had moved the dragon before pushing himself up against the headboard.

“What brought this on?” he stalled.

“You’re not going to ignore my question, Dad,” she told him.

“You’ve been talking to the portraits,” he stated wryly.

He should have known they would have a hand in this. His grandmother had been making increasingly odd statements the past few months, and Aunt Dorea had taken every opportunity to tease him. Even his mother had gotten in on the fun, casually mentioning how much she adored Elia.

Of course they would, he thought.

Elia was Elia; she was the same woman she had been from the day Harry had met her, wary over the unknown man so close to her children. They had eventually grown closer, and every day Harry counted himself lucky to have her in his life – much as she was unwilling to simply stand by as he did what he wanted.