Inara’s eyes immediately welled with tears and she reached out again to stroke the scales under his jaw. You are going nowhere, she vowed. We will find a way to undo this. We have an eternity together, remember?
The red dragon exhaled a hot breath and drew Inara in to his rich blue eyes. Eternity is a long time for one whose heart is held by a mortal, he said, shifting the topic.
Inara looked away. She knew she had ignored the reality of Vighon’s mortality.
I will enjoy what time I have with him, she said earnestly. To do anything else would give me an eternity of regret.
Athis leaned forwards, bringing him even closer to her. Not if you were mortal, he uttered.
Inara frowned and stepped back. “No,” she replied with her voice, emphasising her response. I will not even entertain that, she continued across their bond. We both know there’s only one way that can happen and I will not hear you speak of it. You will not perish, she added with some force.
The life of a mortal is not so bad, Athis began gently. On the contrary, I would argue it is all the more beautiful because of their mortality. Every moment is precious. They experience life like a flash of light; every colour, sound, and taste is more vibrant because of it. And, at the end, you would return to me on the eternal shores.
Inara waved the conversation away. It doesn’t matter. You’re not going anywhere.
Athis lowered his head so that she could rest her own against his warm scales. I only want for you to be happy.
You make me happy, she stated.
Life is more complex than that, the dragon told her, his innate wisdom showing through. You are part dragon, human, and elf, wingless one. Your heart has many desires, all of which you feel so keenly now. And I am glad. This is who you are. I was wrong to deny you your whole self. The realm could never be threatened by one who loves it so much.
Inara pulled her head back to meet his eyes. You know I—
Have forgiven me, Athis finished. I know; that much I can feel in you. And with the forgiveness I feel your love for me. I also feel your love for Vighon. I think everyone can see his for you. There is great happiness to be found in his embrace; happiness I cannot give you, a life I cannot give you. Both your human and elven self naturally seek those relationships; they should not be denied.
The dragon glanced at the camp before returning his attention to his companion. Should we survive what is to come or not, be with him, Inara. Together, we will cherish the memories of him forever.
Inara wiped a solitary tear from her cheek and placed a hand on the dragon. I love you, she declared.
And I you, wingless one.
As night closed in on The Moonlit Plains, Inara found herself waiting for Sir Ruban and a handful of captains to leave Vighon’s tent. She stood patiently beside Sir Borin the Dread, one of very few people who could, in fact, stand beside the Golem without trembling.
Through a gap between the tents, she caught sight of Gideon in the distance, just beyond the camp. He was with Ilargo, as he had been all day. The pair had been in deep discussion since before the dawn, their conversation their own. Athis had noted more than once that Ilargo had prevented him from making contact.
Inara let it go when, finally, the occupants filed out of the tent. She gave them all a friendly nod before entering. The king was leaning over a table, constructed using the base of a ballista by the look of it, and scrutinising several maps of Illian.
Catching sight of Inara, his mood immediately brightened. “It’s good to see your feet on the ground. I’ve missed you.”
Inara couldn’t help but smile. “Athis and I have been testing the limits of our injuries,” she explained. “It seems nothing can keep us from the sky.”
“I wish there was something that could keep me from these maps,” Vighon complained, his mood diminishing again. “We’re just guessing at everything,” he continued, fingering a pile of papers. “All the reports are old. Alijah’s moved his Reavers round since they were delivered.” The king shrugged in despair and took his seat. “It all seems so pointless. The tree burns and Adan’Karth has said nothing. None of this means anything if we lose magic.”
Inara moved to his side, squeezed his shoulder, and leant down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “You will never lose this.”
After she pulled away, Vighon remained still, his head back, and eyes closed. He sighed and, with it, exhaled some of the tension that had been knotted inside him. “I needed that,” he said.
“As did I,” she replied, taking a seat beside him. The king continued to look at her expectantly. “What is it?” she asked amusedly.
“You haven’t come to tell me something grave?” Vighon pondered. “You’re not here to strategise? Share a burden or two?”
Inara gave a gentle giggle and poured herself some water. “Am I usually such a bearer of bad news?”
“No,” the northman was quick to respond. “I suppose it’s just the times we live in.”
“I am sick of the times we live in,” Inara groaned. “I want to eat, drink, and talk of… Well, perhaps not too much talking.” For just a second, she saw her coy grin mirrored in Vighon’s expression.
“No,” he said with half a laugh. “I have not waited all this time to lie with you in a grubby tent, surrounded by every man, elf, and dwarf in the realm.”
Inara’s coy smile
