“Easy now,” Asher cautioned, helpless to do anything but watch her leap.
Avandriell quickly buried her head in the snow before emerging with a mouthful. From there, she explored every small rock and turned over every stone. Now and then she would pounce at something Asher hadn’t seen. He could feel her happiness, infectious as it was.
Nathaniel sidled up beside the ranger. “I haven’t seen you smile like that since… Well never, actually.”
Asher instinctively made to return his expression to that of a stoical monk, but he found it much harder than usual. “I can’t explain all the things I’m feeling,” he said gruffly, “and I’m not inclined to try.”
“I might not have seen that smile on you before,” Nathaniel continued, “but I know that smile. I grinned like that every day watching Alijah and Inara growing up. It’s pride,” he explained. “Mixed in with a heap of love I suppose.”
Unaccustomed to describing his intimate emotions, even to Nathaniel, Asher kept his eyes on Avandriell. He wondered if that’s what it was. Pride. Love. It had taken a lot for him to figure out that his feelings towards Reyna and Nathaniel were love, Faylen too. That particular emotion had been twisted all his life. But he knew it now and could see that he did, indeed, love Avandriell, though its intensity was magnitudes beyond anything he felt for a person.
Pride was new. It was often reserved for parents and mentors, the former of which he had no experience of. During his time in Nightfall, he had mentored several students but being satisfied with them wasn’t the same as being proud.
“Maybe she is like a child to me,” he mused, watching her climb the trunk of a tree to pester the squirrels.
Nathaniel gave a short laugh. “Only you could be a father to a dragon.”
Asher shared in the amusement. “Who do you pity more?”
“Oh, definitely Avandriell,” the old knight quipped.
The two trotted side by side for a while, exchanging jokes about what hilarity might ensue while Avandriell grew ever larger and harder to handle. They kept the conversation light and off what the real future might bring their way. Asher did his best to keep one eye on the hatchling, concerned that she might dash between the horses and be trampled.
At some point along their journey, a pair of soldiers peeled away from the company and tried to find rest at the base of a small hill. Nathaniel sighed and begged his pardon as he broke away to confront the men with a firm reminder of the stakes.
Asher easily returned his attention to Avandriell, who had, apparently, declared war on all squirrels and birds. A melodic voice caught his ear, drawing him back to the riders beside him. Reyna’s emerald eyes were waiting for him, and she displayed just the slightest curve of a smile on her lips. Her leathers, scimitar, and bow lent her the look of a fearsome warrior, the very thing Asher knew her to be.
“I have enjoyed seeing you two side by side again,” she remarked, glancing at her husband in the distance. “It reminds me of old times.”
The ranger tried not to laugh. “By old times you mean when we were fighting Valanis and the Darkakin? Or perhaps you’re referring to the orcs and The Black Hand?”
“I enjoyed the moments in between,” the elf confessed. “We could probably do with making some new memories,” she added. “Preferably ones without swords.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Asher replied amusedly.
Reyna laughed. “Your decision to remain a ranger makes a lot more sense now. I applaud your decision by the way,” the elf complimented.
“Thank you,” the ranger said quietly, his eyes tracking Avandriell from one branch to another.
“I mean it,” Reyna insisted. “You know who you are. After everything that’s happened to you, happening to you, your lack of conflict reflects your true character. I know I speak for the whole realm when I say thank you for that.”
Asher didn’t know what to do with such kind words. He muttered a thank you of his own, reluctant to look the elf in the eyes.
“In some ways,” he began self-deprecatingly, “it’s the easiest decision I’ve ever made. Being a ranger is far simpler than being a Dragon Rider.”
“That’s not why you have chosen that path,” Reyna reminded him.
“No,” Asher agreed. “I am a ranger. There are just some things you can’t fight, no matter how hard you try or how far down you bury them.” The ranger finally turned again to look upon Reyna. “We are who we are,” he declared.
“Indeed,” she uttered, averting her own gaze this time.
“You are a queen, Reyna,” Asher told her. “You’ve always been a queen, just like I’ve always been a ranger.”
“And if I don’t want to be a queen?” the elf pondered.
“Then be Reyna Galfrey,” Asher suggested casually. “Forge a different life.”
Reyna turned on him with confusion. “You just gave a whole speech about being who we are! You can’t fight it you said.”
“I know what I said and I stand by it,” he argued. “But you still have to choose it. To do otherwise would take you down a path of resentment. Ayda doesn’t deserve a bitter queen. Your people deserve a ruler who wants to serve them. I know I speak for the whole realm,” the ranger echoed, “when I say they would be lucky to have you as their queen.”
Reyna met his eyes. “Thank you,” she said with great sincerity.
“Having Nathaniel for a king is another matter,” Asher cracked, bringing out a joyful laugh from Reyna. He had missed the sound of it.
“Perhaps I should look for a better suitor,” the elf jested.
With a cocky shrug, the ranger replied, “I do come with a dragon now, you know.”
“Do you?” Reyna queried, searching the trees past Asher.
Whipping his head around, panic swiftly set in
