This is what happens when you watch desolation of Smaug with some crazy friend who give you a prompt to fill with art....and who is indeed a very demanding friend
Here is the prompt: (I know its long...she is enthusiastic I tell you...)
"A dragon can be beaten, bested, or slain.
A dragon can be trained, rode, or even befriended.
The wyvern lords knew this.
They hold their dragon companions close; the contracts with the beasts even closer. For as long as they hold the summoning spell, the dragons will come when called, obeying their every order, lowering their mighty heads and carry out their will like a obedient pet.
But in the end, the wyvern lords was always sure of one thing and one thing only.
Dragons can never be tamed.
Yet that one day, when he was wounded and could not go on, his dragon never wavered from his side. He no longer held the leash, the contract burnt out of his soul by his powerful foe like a piece of paper on a flame.
His dragon wrapped his tail around him, not too tight nor too loose. He saw the blinding light of dragon fire; he heard the deafening dragon roars. And he could only pray that his dragon would leave him soon; leave him here to die and save itself.
Or more specifically, he is a dragon that was beaten by mankind a millennium ago with their wits, tricks and spells. He was impressed. Impressed by these fragile creatures that faded away in but a blink of an eye. Nevertheless they possessed power enough to best him.
He is not the most magnificent of his kind, nor is he the strongest among his kin. He knew this.
The other dragon was large. His adversary breathed searing flames, his claws sharp and his teeth penetrated his scales easily. He knew when he is beaten, yet he would not escape.
For his defeat will mean the death of his lord.
No, he would not be overcame, not when he still possessed the heart of a wild dragon.
He roared loud and long. "
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