Chapter 5 What Gold Can't Buy
Freya
What does the child achieve?
“He gets to play. To feel, explore and get comfortable in this place,” I say softly, watching Asher do just that while Knox remains kneeling beside us, studying his son with such intense concentration that I begin to wonder if anyone has ever explained the purpose of play to him before.
“Is this... good?” he asks when Asher plants both hands into the tray and sweeps everything together wildly, sending polished stones rolling beneath the metal rings as they crash into one another.
I laugh. “Very.”
Asher squeals, delighted with himself, and does it again with enough enthusiasm to send one of the rings over the edge of the tray. He watches it roll across the mat before turning back to the collection in front of him, his little hands hovering over everything as though deciding what else he can do.
Clearly, breathing fire on it is the answer.
Flames rush from his mouth and spread across the wooden tray before I have time to anticipate what he's doing, though they barely have a chance to catch before I sweep my hand over them and smother the fire with a pulse of magic.
“I guess you wanted to see what that would do.”
Knox doesn't share my amusement.
He reaches between us and lifts Asher straight from the floor, pulling him firmly against his chest while one large hand settles protectively over the back of his head.
“No, Asher. You do not breathe fire inside. You know better.”
Asher's happiness vanishes so quickly that my own smile falls with it. His little face scrunches, bottom lip trembling as he stares up at his father, and when Knox repeats his name in that same deep, authoritative voice, the first scream bursts from him.
It is impressive, even by daycare standards.
I lean back slightly as another follows, much louder, while smoke begins pouring from Asher's nose and his little fists shove against Knox's chest.
Knox closes his eyes for a moment.
I had noticed the shadows beneath his eyes outside, but sitting this close to him makes them impossible to miss, especially when Asher releases another scream, and Knox's entire body seems to tense around the sound.
“That is enough, Asher.”
Asher strongly disagrees.
His back arches as he cries harder, and Knox shifts him higher against his chest, protecting his head while trying to contain the little arms and legs now fighting against him.
He isn't angry.
That becomes obvious the longer I watch.
He's exhausted, frustrated and completely out of ideas, but even while Asher fights him, Knox is careful with every part of him. One hand supports his head while the other keeps him safely against his chest, and every time Asher twists, Knox adjusts with him.
He knows how to hold his son. He doesn't seem to know how to comfort him.
“Can I help?”
Knox looks at me over Asher's head, and the relief that flashes across his face disappears so quickly I almost miss it.
“If you can make him stop.”
I move closer on the mat but resist the urge to take Asher from him, instead resting my hand against the little dragon's back.
“He's upset because he doesn't understand what he did wrong.”
“He set fire to the tray.”
“I know.” I rub slowly between Asher's shoulders, feeling the heat radiating through his clothes. “But a minute ago, we were encouraging him to explore. He hit the rings together, and we praised him because they made a sound. Then he used his fire to see what that would do, and suddenly everything changed.”
Knox looks down at him while Asher continues sobbing against his chest, although the screams have begun to lose some of their force.
“He cannot breathe fire on everything simply because he is curious.”
“No, definitely not. We'd run out of furniture by the end of the week.” I smile when Knox looks at me. “You were right to stop him. He needs help understanding that he's still safe and loved even when you tell him no.”
Something changes in Knox's expression as his attention returns to his son.
“How?”
The single word is quiet enough that I barely hear it beneath Asher's crying.
“Comfort him.”
“I am holding him.”
“You are.”
I watch his hand resting against the back of Asher's head, then reach over and gently guide it lower.
“Try rubbing his back.”
Knox follows the movement uncertainly, his palm covering almost the entire width of Asher's tiny body as he strokes it down his back.
Asher hiccups against his chest.
“There you go,” I murmur, unsure whether I'm talking to the baby or his father now. “Just let him know you're here.”
Knox's hand moves again, a little slower this time, and when Asher releases another broken little sob, his father's arm tightens around him.
“You're all right,” Knox says quietly.
Asher's fingers curl into the front of his shirt, and Knox looks at me.
I smile and nod towards his son.
“Keep going.”
His attention drops back to Asher as he continues rubbing his little back.
“You're all right.”
Another hiccup shakes Asher's body, followed by a miserable sniff, but the screaming doesn't return.
I slowly remove my hand.
Knox doesn't seem to notice. Neither does Asher.
For a man who walked into the daycare looking capable of terrifying half of Eveah with a glance, the Dragon King looks completely bewildered by the tiny creature settling against his chest.
But his hand keeps moving over his son's back, and Asher lets him.
We sit quietly for another minute until Asher's little body relaxes completely, his cheek pressed against his father's chest while one fist remains tangled in Knox's shirt.
“I would like him to attend.”
I look up, surprised by the sudden announcement.
“You would?”
Knox nods, his attention still on Asher. “I believe this could be good for him.”
Something about the way he says it makes me smile. He arrived looking ready to turn around and leave, and now he's sitting on the floor surrounded by stones and metal rings with a sleepy baby tucked against him.
“I think it could be good for him too.”
Before Knox stands, I reach into the tray and take two of the larger metal rings, checking them quickly before holding them towards Asher.
“These are for you.”
His tired eyes open, and one little hand reaches out.
“You can take them home, bang them together as much as you want and bring them back tomorrow.”
Asher curls his fingers around one while I slip the other into Knox's hand.
Knox looks down at it. “You are giving him metal?”
“He likes it.”
“He has gold.”
“Can he bang the gold together?”
Knox considers this but says nothing.
I take that as a no.
I stand as he rises with Asher, the little hatchling already clutching his new treasure against his chest.
“Well.” I smile and straighten his crooked green hat. “I guess we have a hatchling joining the club.”
