Chapter 13
Cecil poked his head out of the water room when he heard the door close. Slowly, he let his eyes search the room, skeptical that they had truly left him alone in peace. He didn’t move, barely breathed for thirty minutes as he waited and listened for the proof that they had lied. When nothing showed itself, he stepped back into the water room and dropped his nickers, only remembering to pull up the top lid of the dunny seconds before it was too late. Moaning his relief when his bladder was finally empty, he hit the lever and watched the water spin and then disappear to be replaced by new. Shaking, and stuffing him back inside his pants, he leaned over and tilted his head to the side, trying to see where it had gone.
Shaking his head, Cecil lowered the top lid as he’d been told, lifting it again quickly, trying to catch it doing its magic. “Huh,” he grunted and dropped it again, turning to the basin and turning the knobs until the water appeared, steamy and warm, changing the looking glass above it. Touching the surface carefully, he looked at the tips of his fingers and rubbed them against his thumb before touching them with his tongue. He smiled. “Water must be plentiful here,” he said to himself, remembering the arid and parched land of home.
Deciding it was safe, he dipped his hands into the water and eyed the dispenser beside the basin dials before he impulsively pressed it. Something clear oozed from it. Dipping his fingers in the puddle, Cecil sniffed it. A purr rolled in his chest as he recognized the scent of lavender. His mother had made him a nest of the sweet-smelling plant when he was a hatchling and it still calmed him like a soothing balm. He rubbed it over his hands, surprised when it foamed, like the surf of oceans crashing against a shore. Grinning he dipped his hands under the water and pumped the dispenser again, catching it this time and working it into a lather.
Cecil didn’t know how long he spent repeating the process. Time meant little to a dragon. When he tired of it, the air hung heavy with the scent he loved, and his hands were dripping. He looked around, not wanting to wipe them on himself. A smile curled his lips at the small table littered with animal shapes made from a fuzzy looking cloth. His hand hovered over the dragon, but then moved to the floppy ears of a rabbit. Lifting it, he chuckled when it unrolled and unfolded into a large white rectangle that was so soft that he considered lining his bed with it.
After he’d dried his hands, he draped it over a beautifully sculpted metal rod, arranging it until it hung evenly. She grinned his pleasure. Cecil liked having everything in its place and it had been so long since he’d had a space to arrange to his liking. His eyes sparkled as he left the water room and explored the rest of his new lair. He sat on a large, long piece of furniture, gasping his pleasure when he sunk into it. Everything here was so soft and luxurious, built for comfort. Yes, he liked this place.
Getting up, he began opening drawers and doors, discovering another large room that seemed built specifically for him to keep his treasures in. His heart expanded his chest as hope that this was everything the Fitz and Blade said it was. If what they said were true he could call his treasures to him and finally sleep soundly, knowing that they were under his care once again. He ghosted the things that he’d collected in the garage into the space and arranged them carefully on the shelves as he hummed to himself. Satisfied, he picked up the treat the Fitz had gifted to him.
When he turned, he spotted a robe of the same soft fabric in the water room, hanging on a hook. Fingering the cloth gently, he carefully lifted it from the metal peg and set the cake on a shelf as he opened the garment and looked at the inside. He wanted to wrap himself in the softness and feel it whisper against his bare skin. Looking around, and poking his head into the room to be sure no one would see, he willed his scales to retract into his human form’s skin and slid one arm inside and then the other. Cecil groaned at the luxurious feel of it and grinned wider when he noticed the belt that would hold it closed around his waist.
Retrieving his dish of cake, he left the smaller room and closed the door carefully behind him. He dipped his finger into the food, scooping some up and stuffing it into his mouth as he walked around the room, finding new treasures at every turn. Cecil stopped to touch the thick and ornate gold colored frame around a painting. His brows shot up and he leaned closer to sniff it as his dragon senses cataloged its value. It was solid gold and purer that he was accustomed to touching. His jaw hung open as he stared at it. This Fitz trusted him with something so precious? It was not done. Not for dragons. It wasn’t that they meant to take what wasn’t theirs, but they had a habit of falling deeply in love with beautiful things and it was too hard to let them go. Without realizing that he had done it, Cecil emptied his hands, lifted the artwork off the wall and placed it safely inside his new horde hole.
Picking up the food again he sat on the bed and lifted the remote as the pictures on the box showed a man shoving a chair at a lion. ‘That is not how you make friends with anyone,’ he thought to himself and touched one of the arrow buttons with his thumb. The world he watched changed. Some were interesting, others made no sense. He gasped his delight as a beautiful woman with white hair was allowed to mount one of his kind, and flew into the sky. The dragon wore no chains and she stroked its scales with love and affection, like the stories of his mother had once told of her youth, before man had turned on them.
Cecil smiled and lowered the controller to the bed beside him, pushing himself back to lean against pillows so plush that they were impossible. Looping his arm around the dish, he hugged it to his chest and willed one talon to extend through the tip of his finger to use as a spoon. He lost himself in the story unfolding on the box. No, he reminded himself, it is called a television. Eating the gift from The Fritz, Cecil fell in love with Game of Thrones and did not move until his eyes grew too heavy to keep open and he fell asleep with the scent of lavender still lingering in the air.