She crossed her arms and gave a smirk and Jahrra felt her face flush again. She really was doing that far too often for her own liking.
“Jaax has had a long time to accumulate wealth,” she said, “and he says I have to have appropriate attire if I’m to be taken seriously by the Coalition.”
Jahrra’s explanation sounded weak, even to her.
“Uh huh,” was all Torrell said to that.
Before the moment could grow too awkward, however, Dathian stepped through the door and looked around.
“Nice room,” he said.
Feeling slightly relieved, Jahrra gathered them up and led them out onto the patio, telling everyone to watch their head or their step as they passed through the open window.
The fire was already crackling, as Neira had promised, and the sausages and bread, butter, cheese and assorted fruits were spread out on the stone table waiting to be consumed.
“We can have apples too,” Jahrra gestured happily to her little grove on the opposite end of the terrace. “The fruit is finally ripe.”
As the sun set in the west and the stars started showing themselves in the sky, Jahrra, Torrell, Senton and Dathian settled down on the stone benches with spare blankets and cushions. They roasted the sausages and even tried roasting the apples, which turned out better than Jahrra had expected. At the end of their meal they tried the marshroot that Torrell had brought with her. Using sticks gathered from the apple trees, they speared the pale tubers and held them over the fire.
“Just until they are golden brown,” Torrell said.
Once they were done, Jahrra gave hers a tentative bite then looked up at Torrell as her eyes grew wide in surprise.
“These are good!” Senton spoke for her, his mouth full of roasted marshroot.
“I’ve never had this before, is it a family secret?” Dathian asked, doing his best to remove the sticky marshroot from his fingers with some dignity.
“Of a sort.” Torrell grinned. “The marshroot is native to the wetlands between Lake Hronah and Lake Aaryitt in the east. My mother’s family is from there so they brought the plant with them when the settled in Lidien. Luckily it can be grown in a pot on our patio, but the soil must always be very damp.”
She finished her story off by plopping a golden brown marshroot into her mouth.
The rest of the night consisted of everyone telling stories about family and friends or what had happened to them before they had met one another. Jahrra, naturally, had the most to say, for she had the longest history it seemed, except for Dathian of course. But obviously, the elf wasn’t about to divulge his family history to anyone.
“What’s it like living with a dragon?” Torrell wanted to know, her voice falling quietly to match the cadence of the low coals of the fire.
“Don’t worry, Torrell,” Jahrra said with a grin. “It’s not as if Jaax is standing below the terrace, listening to our every word.”
Her friend’s eyes widened at that, and Jahrra half suspected this was exactly what Torrell was thinking.
“I’d like to know too,” Senton added.
Jahrra glanced at her blond friend and grinned. She was grateful she hadn’t followed through with her original instincts that day she met Senton. He had proved to be such a wonderful friend; easygoing, and good-natured. Nothing about him was mean or cruel or forceful. She wondered what it must be like to be so carefree and she almost felt a pang of jealousy, for Senton didn’t have the same burdens she did. But then she mentally kicked herself. He had lost his mother. Perhaps he was just better at dealing with his sorrow than her.
“Honestly?” she said, finally answering her friends’ questions. “I don’t know. I don’t really have anything to compare it with. Ever since I was eight years old, I lived with dragons. I remember my parents, of course, but it was so long ago, almost ten years now.”
Jahrra’s voice dropped off, but she shook away the stale sorrow.
“I think the real question is,” Dathian broke in, piercing the strange silence with his calm voice, “what is it like living with Jaax? He isn’t just any dragon, you know. He’s the leader of the Coalition and has quite the reputation all throughout the western world as a dragon not to be trifled with.”
Jahrra looked up from where she sat, her arms wrapped around her knees and as close to the fire as she could get. Everyone had moved down onto the ground, the blankets wrapped around them, the orange glow of the fire bathing their faces in light. She reviewed Dathian’s words. Now that was quite a question, followed by quite a statement. But what really forced Jahrra’s thoughts to come to a standstill was the irrefutable truth that reverberated through what he had just said.
Her first natural response to the question of what it was like living with Jaax would have been ‘A pain’, but luckily, Jahrra stopped herself. She thought about how, yes, it was very difficult at times to be the ward of such a powerful and influential dragon. But what about the other times, like when he’d stayed awake with her those many nights her nightmares chased any sleep away, or the other night, when he had so thoughtfully hinted that she should invite her friends over? No, it wasn’t a pain living with Jaax, but it wasn’t a grand delight either.
Screwing up her face in thought, Jahrra answered as honestly as she could, “It’s challenging. He’s very hard to live with on some days but on other days he isn’t. He expects much of me and pushes me to do my best and to achieve as much as possible, but he is fair and comforting when needed. So, yes it’s challenging to live with the dragon Raejaaxorix but he is the only family I have now, and I think I might be the only family he has left as well.”
Jahrra leaned her head against her knees and thought about the shocking truth of what she had just said. Was Jaax family? I guess so, she told herself. She tilted her head to the side and caught Dathian watching her. He smiled and bowed his head ever so slightly, as if telling her she gave a very good answer to his question. She grinned back at him, her eyes feeling sleepy.
The sound of horses neighing, followed by the clatter of wheels digging through the gravel drive brought them all to attention. Jahrra blinked at her friends and Senton sighed, rising and bringing his blanket with him as he walked to the edge of the terrace.
“Yup, it’s the coach. Must be time to go.”
Jahrra was thoroughly worn out but slightly pleased to hear the tinge of disappointment in her friend’s tone.
Torrell groaned and yawned, stretching as she too stood up.
She looked down at Jahrra and shrugged. “We decided to split a coach. Thought it’d be safer and a little easier if we all came together and left together as well.”
“Of course,” Jahrra said, rising to send her friends off properly.
They trudged back downstairs, the hall and great room relatively dark and quiet, save for a few lanterns that still burned along the stone walls and the glow of the dying embers in the fireplace. Jahrra bid everyone goodnight, telling them she would see them in class, and shut the door behind her, latching it securely. She leaned her back against the door and listened to the carriage disappear before heading back upstairs.
“I take it your evening went well?”
Jahrra only started a little, rolling her head against the back of the door so that she could see Jaax standing just inside of the archway on his side of the house. She shrugged and grinned.
“We had a good time, though I wish they could have stayed longer.”
Jaax nodded, but it was hard for her to see since the house was so dark.
“You must be working on something important,” Jahrra said delicately to fill the emptiness. “To have been kept busy all this time.”