We should rest here tonight, Gideon suggested, aware that Ilargo was connected to Athis. There is a cliff just east of here, above the trees. It looks big enough for both of you.
We can’t afford to stay long, Inara cautioned through their shared bond. Alijah has a head start.
We will leave before the night is over and finish our journey under the stars, Gideon reassured.
Both dragons banked towards the clearing without a verbal response, a testament to their fatigue after days of flying across the world from Erador to Illian with barely a stop in the middle. Gideon harboured a real fear for his companion’s life but, as strange as it still felt, he kept the thought to himself. A lot of his worries stemmed from the fact that, after years of imprisonment, he had only just got his eternal companion back and he didn’t want to lose him again.
Adding to the waning shadows of the trees, Athis and Ilargo flew low over The Evermoore before gliding on the currents to bring them up to the rocky bluff that stood a little taller than the surrounding forest. It was slightly pitted in the centre, offering the riders some shelter from the wind, but the dragons still curled around the area offering a wall of muscle and scales.
Gideon patted Ilargo on the neck before making his way down the angled rocks and boulders. Meeting Inara there, they quickly set up a small camp with blankets and a fire to cook their food. They did all this in silence, their actions born of muscle memory more than anything. They had both camped in the wilds of the world and with far less than they had now.
They ate and drank, watching the stars creep over the sky. As the temperature dropped, Inara carved some small runes into the ground around them and the fire. Gideon recognised the spell and even remembered teaching the younger warrior how to enact it. When she was finished, an invisible bubble surrounded them, trapping the heat inside. Trivial as the spell was, it still made the old master proud.
“Did you ever think about me?” Inara asked, cutting through the sound of the crackling flames.
Gideon looked at her, across the fire, well aware of what she was talking about. “Every day,” he assured. “And twice as much after Alijah captured me.”
“What did you think?” Inara continued. “When your thoughts dwelled on me,” she specified.
Gideon could see how awkward Inara felt asking the question. “For my years in Dragons’ Reach, I longed for your opinion on everything. You’ve always seen things so clearly. But, most of all, I think I missed your laugh. Something I haven’t heard since our reunion.”
Inara’s mouth twisted. “There hasn’t been much to laugh about of late.”
Gideon looked down at his food. “I suppose not.” The old master took a breath before meeting her eyes again. “I worried about you,” he confessed. “I knew you could take care of yourself - you were the most dangerous thing in all of Illian. But I worried you were lonely. I knew the order was a part of your identity. I feared that you were living in hope that every day would be the day we returned.”
“I did,” Inara replied quietly.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered before finding his courage. “I am sorry,” he repeated boldly. “I convinced myself that… Well, I don’t know what I told myself. I’ve made one bad choice after another and leaving you behind to guard Illian on your own is right up there with the worst of them. You should never have had to shoulder that responsibility. If I could change things I would.”
Inara stared at her old master and Gideon felt the weight of her gaze through the licking flames. “I forgive you. Just like I forgive you for keeping the Dragorn bond a secret,” she added sincerely.
Gideon swallowed, unable to say anything in light of the absolution of his failures. Inara’s strength and humility were boundless - as he well knew - but to experience it was like having his chains removed all over again.
“I also forgive you for taking the extra piece of bacon,” Inara added, her tone bringing some levity to the conversation.
Gideon managed an amused smile and flicked his finger over the bacon on his plate. The telekinetic spell launched the strip of meat across the fire and into Inara’s waiting hand. Her grin broadened as she consumed it in three quick bites.
“I do not deserve your forgiveness,” Gideon uttered.
“And yet you still have it,” Inara replied.
Gideon nodded his appreciation but failed to look at her as he busied himself with his water. He had nothing to offer in return for her kindness even though he knew Inara expected nothing.
“I’m surprised you haven’t asked me yet,” Inara announced.
The old master was taken aback by the confusing statement and, for the life of him, couldn’t understand what she was referring to.
“It must have crossed your mind,” Inara continued as if he was in on it. “We discovered an entire cavern full of dragon eggs. The bond you now have with Ilargo aligns with the ancient ways. You must have thought about the Dragon Riders. I’m just surprised you haven’t asked me to join you yet,” she finally clarified.
Gideon opened and closed his mouth, unsure how to respond. “I would be lying,” he began, “if I said I hadn’t considered it.”
“Why would you only consider it?” Inara questioned with a frown.
Gideon was tempted to laugh at his own miserable history where leadership was concerned. “I haven’t exactly succeeded in that particular area. You might recall your recent trip to Dragons’ Reach.”
Inara was shaking her head. “You’re a leader, Gideon. It’s in your bones.”
Now he was shaking his head. “The qualities of leadership are not enough to build an order of dragons and Riders from the ground up. I brought too many potential Riders too soon to The Lifeless Isles. Our numbers swelled beyond my ability to teach with any significant
