1.8

Jonathan the Third of House Rochford, Lord Baron of Rochford considered the restfully breathing mass of his daughter as he leaned against her side.

It was a funny thing.

He had not expected to become Jewel’s father.

He had not expected her egg to hatch at all within his lifetime, if he was being perfectly honest.

Many of his peers had their own theoretical Wyrm Children waiting in eggs. Mostly by inheritance or trade off of such from the clutch claimed and divided in the aftermath of the Tyrant War.

A few others came as spoils from the rare wild wyrm hunt that had met success.

But right up until it finally happened nine years ago, Jonathan had not thought it would fall to him out of all his line to be the Wyrmkeeper.

And even then in the first year or so, though bewildering and full of entirely unexpected new accolades, responsibilities and sudden political relevance, Jonathan had expected that the Wyrmling would be something like a particularly intelligent pet or warbeast.

Perhaps something he cared for like a hunting hound or his Gryphon Zephyrvam. But it had simply not turned out anything like that.

Alexander was the light of his world and demanded attention too, of course.

But his (then still little) Jewel had acted far more like a toddling child than any animal. And even though that was endearing and surprising it was not the moment that truly made her his or his wife’s daughter.

No, they each had a separate moment for that.

It was the words that did him in.

She had called him papa not shortly after Alexander had. And with a far clearer and sharper understanding than his son showed. You could always see it in her eyes that she spoke with understanding then and now.

That was when he realized that somewhere along the way she had stopped being just some beast which he was entrusted to care and raise and instead his own child.

And by her own declaration a daughter.

His Caroline admitted that for her, the moment when Jewel became daughter instead of pet had been a few years later.

Jewel had been singing softly one of the lullabies that soothed Alexander whenever he was frightened. Rocking him gently in her coils, already nearly bigger than he was but gentle as can be.

Their son had been crying over something neither parent could remember, children cried a lot, even Jewel when she was especially young.

But after that the bemused and exasperated tone had fled Caroline whenever Jonathan had called Jewel their daughter instead of their charge and obligation.

It took quite a bit of doing after that, not helped by the stories of the Tyrant War that were still immortalized in songs told up and down the kingdom in every tavern and court.

He had not been stopped by such custom and pushed through the recognition by his right as a lord.

The Countess herself had come to his court to officiate and apply her seal on the adoption.

And so that was legally the day which made Jewel not just a spoil of war and a family heirloom but a legitimized child of House Rochford. But she had been his daughter for far longer than that.

Which made the predicament they found all of themselves in just that bit thornier.

A noble by right, blood, and compact Jewel might be, but she was still his, as her lord and father.

And it was, to be fair, a far more reasonable and less extreme overture of alliance then he had joked about with his friends and fellow Gryphonlords after the adoption.

No one had yet actually made the hilarious overture of a betrothal to Jewel, thinking a sham marriage to an animal would be an easy alliance.

He and Caroline still were not settled on what they would do if that day ever actually came.

He admitted that, despite trying to become as knowledgeable as was possible regarding her species, Johnathan was not entirely sure if Jewel was actually female, or if that even applied to dragons.

The naturalists, clergy and scholars had frustratingly little detail except that they all seemed to have eggs.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Which was a point in favor, he supposed, for who knew what time there in the dark trying to find sleep where it would not come.

The Lord of Rochford breathed carefully and deeply and shifted as much as he dared. For all that she was near impervious to casual cutting, abrasions and her own apocalyptically destructive flames, his daughter could be disturbed by the slightest out of place brush or shift of weight near her.

She was also hilariously ticklish if you knew where to brush your fingers.

If she was still sleeping when he had to resume his duties Johnathan considered waking her like he did when she was still something he could lift.

This he considered with great effort to smother even a tremble of laughter.

But sadly such moments were distinctly relegated to the past for him and his daughter.

The tickle fights were now absolutely only an outdoors affair.

Given what it had made of his former study.

The extra accolades and military funding to facilitate the upbringing and training of such an asset to the realm as Jewel represented were substantial and helped with many of the expenses needed for her care and comfort.

But the County, Duchy and Kingdom over him would only tolerate so much.

Best to save any ostentatious requests til later.

She was growing to be such a careful and considerate child there was liable to be quite the fortune available when she was old enough to make proper use of it.

Thank every god among the stars and sky that she got along so well with her brother too.

Alexander had never needed any extra reinforcement that his younger sister was anything but family.

Even when she outgrew every horse in the stable he still treated her like the ‘little’ sister.

Even when she spoke and read quite a bit better than the 11 year old boy did, she still conferred to him as her elder.

It was endearing in the extreme but sometimes worried him.

She would let her youthful ‘elder’ brother get the both of them into trouble far more then she should.

Jonathan was no stranger to siblings egging each other into trouble (he was one of five brothers himself) but if she just took on the authority and responsibility he knew she could, there would be a lot fewer gray hairs taking over poor Murial’s black locks.

Then again, it was easy to forget just how young Jewel was.

He recalled what had just happened this evening.

One of those moments that reminded him for all her aptitude and attentive watching and grasp of word and letters poor Jewel was nine.

The Lord Rochford shifted again as softly as he could and envied his wife her ability to sleep like a stone while half stood up snuggled into a loop of their daughter’s coils.

He’d never managed that no matter how many times he found himself in this position and simply resigned to suffering through the next day bleary eyed and yearning to settle in early for bed.

He was far too young to be getting this old, not even thirty and blessed with two far too incredible children that were going to age him before his time.

A son that showed such bravery that, if tempered with wisdom, would make for a great lord, possibly even a possible count.

And a daughter who was literally a latent weapon of war that, given time to grow and mature, would challenge the strength of arms of every other soldier and knight of the realm put together.

And that was before a literal peerage of thrice-damned Wizards arrived and insinuated their interests into his and his daughter’s business no matter what he did.

He again, as quietly as he could, let the frustration out in a long slow breath, staring at the dark of the ceiling of his study and listening to the soft deep rumble of his daughter and wife snoring.

As if there was any doubt that she was anything but the girl’s mother.

How such a small woman could be so loud at rest is a mystery beyond wyrms and wizards.

He tried for the eleventh time that hour closing his eyes but the noise of his spouse and child and the position he had to take to bring her peace conspired with the looming specter of tomorrow.

He would find no sleep tonight so instead he thought and pondered.

Jonathan had not intended or expected to become Jewel’s father.

But despite all of it he would never trade that he was for anything.

Whatever came, he would protect his family.