Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle or its associated characters, names and places.
Eragon sat down on the log with a dull thud as the sun rose over the tree line. It had been two days since the last conflict between the Varden and the corrupted forces led by Galbatorix, yet his entire being was still in pain from the events. Even with the elfish traits he had acquired at the Agaetì Blödhren, he had been hard pressed to survive. He had exhausted his body both physically and mentally, as he combatted magicians and soldiers alike, along with healing his and Saphira's more extreme injuries afterwards. Eragon even had to go so far as to drain what magic he had stored in both Brisingr's gem and those in the belt of Beloth the Wise. In the end, the Varden had held the claim of victory, but at the cost of countless of their finest warriors. The thought of the gruesome conflict he participated in made Eragon's innards churn with distaste, though he knew that such events were necessary if they were ever to rid the world of Galbatorix's tyranny. He was contemplating where the Varden were to advance to next when he heard the familiar rustling sound that often accompanied Saphira as she landed.
Good morning, little one, she said as she set her front legs upon the ground.
"Good morning to you as well, Saphira," Eragon said, not able to summon the strength required to rise from his position on the log. He saw what was left of some unsuspecting animal clenched between her massive jaws. In one graceful movement, the rest of the carcass was dropped down into her gullet. "I take it hunting was good, then?"
It was fair, but some of the creatures of the forest are starting to hide themselves when they believe I am nearby, Saphira explained.
"As they should," Eragon reasoned, "A ferocious being such as you could wreak havoc if they continued to be so dimwitted". He felt a faint trickle of pleasure emanating from Saphira as he finished his statement. The two of them simply sat there, enjoying both each other's company and the seclusion from the rest of the Varden their location gave them. Several minutes passed like this until Eragon noticed a lone man, garbed in the Varden's colors approaching towards them. Eragon had a feeling he knew what the man was here for.
By the time the soldier managed to get close to him, he was gasping for air after sprinting such a far distance to get to his destination. Eragon let the man have his rest, quite content to wait for him to deliver his message. "Shadeslayer," the man said between pants, "You are to report to Nasuada's tent immediately. She has discovered some disturbing information and needs you to help her decide the best course of action". With that Eragon thanked the man and he sped off back to camp, leaving Eragon and Saphira alone once again.
Well, Eragon, let us be off to the skies, Saphira said with enthusiasm.
"Actually, Saphira, I think I shall walk to camp," Eragon said. When he detected Saphira's disappointment at his refusal to ride her, he added, "You should go and try to find some more food for yourself. You must still be hungry after everything you've been through these past few days". Eragon remembered that, of the two of them, Saphira had sustained the most serious injuries during the battle, not to mention the physical labor she underwent to set up the defensive trenches the Varden needed. Helping the Varden was always a demanding task for Saphira, and Eragon didn't want to further her strain, no matter how much he wanted to spend time with her.
As you wish, she said, a hurt note creeping into her speech.
With a grunt, Eragon got up off the log and limped over to where Saphira was crouched and did his best to wrap his arms around her in an embrace. I'll be back soon, Eragon said through their mental connection, sending soothing images to Saphira to help calm her down. With that, Eragon started off towards the Varden camp.
Goodbye, little one.
Eragon approached Nasuada's tent after spending most of the day walking through the woods the Varden had camped in. The thick forest helped cloak them from Galbatorix's forces, but it was still inconvenient to maneuver in it. Before entering the tent, he sent his mind outwards in the search for anything out of the ordinary in the tent. He detected nothing of ill intent, though his mind brushed against one consciousness he wished was not present. The mind he felt had a strange music accompanying it, and Eragon immediately recognized its owner: Arya.
Ever since his unsuccessful attempts to court her, Eragon tried to make as little contact with Arya as possible, even though conversations were often unavoidable. He did this not because he resented her for her actions, but because he feared that if he spoke with her or engaged in mental conversation, his feelings for her might overpower his reason and he might do something foolish, destroying their relationship beyond repair. He just barely escaped such a fate during the Agaetì Blödhren, and he was determined not to fall prey to temptation now.
Eragon snapped back into reality and realized he had been standing outside the tent for several minutes in a foolish looking position. He shook his head. I have to be more careful. If I keep pondering the past I am doomed to repeat it, he thought to himself as he strode through the flaps that made up the entrance to the tent. When he entered, Nasuada looked up at him and gave him a quick smile, though he could see the stress of leading the Varden creeping onto her face. Eragon noticed Arya standing next to her, though she did not look up from the map she was focusing on.
"Ah, Eragon. I hoped you would arrive soon," Nasuada said. "How are you faring after the battle?"
"Still quite sore," Eragon replied, "though you certainly did not call me here to discuss my well-being. What is it that you have discovered?"
A serious expression grew upon Nasuada's face. "Our scouts in the surrounding area are reporting that the Empire is under a full scale withdraw. This is quite the puzzling piece of information, as they surely have the upper hand at the time. It is for this reason that I suspect a trap, and as soon as we reveal ourselves their forces will likely rain down upon us. On the other hand, the Varden is low on supplies, and the men are disheartened in the current predicament. What do you think we should do?"
Eragon said nothing, weighing the consequences in each hand. If they remained hidden, men were sure to desert, and that would mean that when it finally came time to fight-and it was sure to come eventually- there would be less soldiers to fight with the Varden. However, they could not risk engaging the Empire in their current state, given the assumption that their forces have been reinforced since their retreat.
After some time of pondering this dilemma Eragon came to a conclusion. "I think that we should try to move our men during the night, preferably tomorrow if at all possible, and try to escape conflict and make it back to a city where we can obtain the provisions we need to function".
Nasuada seemed content with his answer. "I think that would be the best course of action right now, although I am not the only one to make this decision. Arya, what do you think?"
For the first time since Eragon had entered the tent, Arya looked up at him. Her gorgeous eyes flashed at him before she returned her attention to Nasuada. "It would be for the best if we follow Eragon's plan. I can see no other alternative". Eragon was still staring at Arya, infatuated, but she either didn't notice or paid him no mind.
Nasuada nodded, confirming that they would follow this plan. "Now that that is settled I would ask both of you to depart as I have some other business to attend to," she said. Arya seemed reluctant to leave her, almost as a wife hesitates to leave her spouse, but she relented and strutted out the door. Eragon quickly followed suit. Just the thought of being near her made his mind fill with joy. He quickly threw barriers up around his mind so she wouldn't feel the sheer love he felt for her. If she received the love emanating from his thoughts, she would probably have been furious with Eragon for once again pursuing her.
I have to try to resist thinking about her. Nothing good can come of it, Eragon said as he struggled with the passionate part of his brain. But she is so beautiful, Eragon thought as his infatuation finally overcame reason. I can't stand being apart from her. I don't care how long I have to wait; I will make her mine eventually. I think the main factor is how soon I can find a way to defeat Galbatorix, as it seems that she only avoids me for that reason. She is definitely the woman I want to spend the rest of my days with. His lustful thoughts soon strayed down darker paths, and he was glad no one else could hear them.
Or so he thought.
Saphira lied on a ledge, not far from the Varden's camp, and listened to Eragon's thoughts-evidently he had forgotten to close his mind off to her- as he continued to contemplate all of Arya's beauties and what he planned to do with her in the future. As he continued, his thoughts about her got progressively more and more intimate, until he eventually wandered off to his tent to, as he called it, 'relieve some stress'.
As if I don't know what he's doing, Saphira thought with a puff of smoke rising from her snout. He always has to wander about fantasizing about Arya, who is unlikely to take him as his mate, leaving me alone in the distance. It was not the first time he had done this; there was many a time where Saphira was abandoned and forced to contemplate his feeling towards both Eragon and Arya.
Over the course of these solitary periods, Saphira had made more progress towards her understanding of Arya than that of Eragon. She's no good for him, she thought, and even if she was worthy of being a mate towards my partner-of-mind-and-heart, she still would only cause him further pain as she will continue to refuse his companionship. Eragon treats her with nothing but the highest love and yet she remains cold and inconsiderate. Why must he insist upon continuing to court her? Saphira pondered this question for some time, and eventually decided that she would not be able to come up with an acceptable answer.
Her feelings towards Eragon, however, were more uncertain and confused. She loved him, that much was certain. But to what extent? She thought to herself. I may have feelings towards him as more than my Rider, but if that is true, would it be right to feel that way? And how would he respond to such a revelation? I feel as though two things could happen; he could mark it off as a joke and things go on as normal or he becomes furious with me and we never speak again. Saphira sat quietly and pondered this dilemma and decided that it would be best simply to conceal her feelings until the time was right and she knew for certain of Eragon's feelings towards her.
That did not help the fact that Saphira did not have a mate to share her days with. In recent weeks her mind started to wander to this subject more and more, though Saphira did not know why. She knew that Thorn was always an option, but she did not think of the idea as very pleasing. I would rather let my race be condemned to the void than let he-who-works-with-the-egg-smasher mount me, Saphira thought. She had thought of Eragon on multiple occasions, often with the two of them being the same race as the other, though Saphira knew that this was not to be. If Eragon does have feelings for me, he hides it as well as I do. If I do decide to go after him, I am going to have to find a way to drop hints at it until he confesses.
As the loneliness of both her current situation and her love life started to overwhelm her, she got up and walked to the edge of the ledge, where she leaped into the air and started gliding towards Eragon's tent.
What am I doing? The question rattled Eragon's mind as he finished pleasing himself and slipped his pants back on. I can't keep doing this. One of these days someone is going to figure out my feelings for Arya and I am going to have to confess; either Arya or, worse, Saphira will figure out my passions and I don't think either of them will react too kindly. Saphira would definitely be the worse of the two. She tends to overreact often. I just have to hope that the time where someone finds out isn't soon approaching.
As Eragon further pondered his current predicament, he felt a presence enter his mind, and he knew Saphira was drawing close to his tent. Hello, Saphira, Eragon called with his mind as she drew close. He looked outside his tent to see her coming down towards the ground as the sun began to set. How was hunting?
Oh, it was, um, good, Saphira said in response. Eragon received the notion that she was lying, but he decided that he would pursue the topic at another time. When she had landed, Eragon relayed what had happened during the meeting in Nasuada's tent and the conclusions they came to, though Saphira did not seem surprised by any of it. Throughout the telling of his tale, Saphira kept one brilliant eye focused solely on him. Another thing Eragon noticed was an intoxicating aroma that had filled the air ever since she landed. He was momentarily entranced by the odor, but he soon regained control of himself. Something was off about her, confirming his resolution to ask her about what was going on with her at a more appropriate time.
Well, we should probably get some rest. We're leaving tomorrow, Eragon said after some time of sitting next to Saphira. It's going to be a busy day and I think it would do us both some good if we were well rested for it.
I think you are right, Eragon. I feel quite drowsy, Saphira responded. Eragon turned to go back to his tent when he felt a force stop him in place and drag him back towards his dragon. He realized Saphira had caught him in her grasp and he could not break free, no matter how much he struggled. Oh no, there will be no sleeping in a tent for you, Eragon. This is your payment for leaving me earlier. You're going to sleep out here with me tonight, little one, Saphira said as she pulled him against her warm underbelly and draped a wing over him.
All right, Saphira. I will sleep with you tonight, but could you let me out of your embrace, please? Eragon pleaded as he struggled against her.
Nope, Saphira said drowsily as she slipped off into sleep. Eragon tried once more to free himself but found that it would be impossible to remove her limbs from him without the aid of magic, and he felt Saphira might be offended if he went to such measures to free himself. He accepted his fate and soon drifted into a deep sleep, but not before taking note that the aroma he smelled earlier was much more potent near Saphira's underside.
Eragon pushed open the door to find Arya standing there. "Eragon, I've been waiting for you," she said, stepping forward, "And it would be unwise to keep your lover waiting."
Eragon was taken aback. "Lover? I don't even…" Eragon was cut off as Arya brought him into a passionate kiss. He simply stood there for a moment out of shock, but soon regained control of himself and he returned her kiss, as his entire being was filled with a deep yearning to have intercourse with her. Arya fell backwards onto the bed and mouthed the words 'take me' as she disrobed and spread her legs outwards. Eragon walked towards her submissive form, also taking off his apparel, as the guards closed the door to let them have their privacy. As he got into a position where he could slide his member into her opening, Eragon thought he heard a roar of anguish in the distance…
Eragon awoke with a start. What a fantastic dream, he thought to himself as he looked around him. Saphira had let go of him during the night, but she still lay curled around him with her massive wing draped over him. The smell had died down, but he could still almost feel its presence. Immediately he sensed something was wrong. He sent his mind out to the area near him, trying to sense any disturbances in the usual flow of things. The camp went about as usual, though most people were asleep in their tents, so things were relatively slow in the nearby area. It was what was in the distant reaches of his mind that concerned him; he could not determine their intent or who they were, as they seemed to be protected by a wall of magic, but he could tell that there was a massive amount of entities in the formation heading towards them. Fear found its way into his heart as a realization hit him; Before the Battle of the Burning Planes, Galbatorix made his soldiers appear to be garrisoned when they were in fact on the move, why couldn't he have done the same here?
Eragon wormed his way out from under Saphira, being careful not to wake her, gathered his armor and sword, and then sped off as fast as he could towards Nasuada's tent. He went inside the tent to see Nasuada fitted with combat gear and a sword at her hip. She looked up at Eragon briefly. "Eragon, I'm assuming that you're here because you sense the large force heading towards us. Arya has already informed me and she is off rousing the men." As she finished, Eragon heard a scream of agony come from somewhere in the camp. The cry was soon accompanied by one of rage, and he knew the enemy had gotten far closer. The enemy was now upon them.
At that moment it dawned on Eragon that Nasuada's tent was on the western edge of the camp; exactly where the force was advancing from. He grasped Nasuada's arm and led her out the door. "Go and get the men," Eragon said. "I will hold them at bay with what men I can find until you can return." She looked like she was going to demand he not do such a thing, but she did not and ran through the camp, going from tent to tent and rousing anyone inside. Eragon looked around and saw the men of the Empire- for they were surely part of the Empire now- drawing closer and closer to the camp perimeter. He looked to his left and saw a man whose head had been pierced by an arrow; his skull lay shattered against the soft dirt as it absorbed the blood draining out of him. The shot seemed nearly impossible, so Eragon assumed that their opponents either had magicians in their ranks or their warriors were extremely skilled. There was a strong possibility that it was both.
A firm hand gripped his shoulder and Eragon spun around to see Roran, accompanied by about a hundred of the Varden's warriors. "Looks like you're going to need some help here, cousin. Well, let's get on with it then." Eragon nodded at him and they barreled towards the enemy together, carrying out battle cries as they approached. The miniscule defending force broke through the first few rows of Galbatorix's men in a flurry of flesh and steel before their charge was dragged to a halt. Eragon's movements were a blur; his skills far surpassed any the Empire could throw at them, the exceptions being Murtagh and Galbatorix. This did not stop him from becoming separated from his allies and becoming surrounded by his foes, however. He leapt at the nearest man and bashed his skull in with the pommel of his sword, then brought Brisingr around and separated the next man's head from his shoulders. He winced as one man's pike drove through his mail and sliced the back of his leg. Eragon felt Saphira jolt out of her sleep upon sensing his pain.
Eragon! Where are you? After a second she located him through their mental connection. Hang on, I'm coming.
No, Saphira. Find Nasuada and Arya's group and assist them as needed. I fear that this is not the fullest extent of their assault, and we should be prepared should they strike somewhere else.
I will not allow you to be killed while I cower in the background like some cornered beast.
Saphira! Eragon snapped. That was not a suggestion. Go to them now! With that he withdrew from her mind and returned once again to the task at hand. He felt bad about sending Saphira away like that, but it was imperative that Nasuada rallies the troops and reinforces Eragon's unit before the Empire overpowers them. Dodging and stabbing, he eventually gored his way out of encirclement and rejoined what was left of Roran's men. Only a small portion of the initial force remained, and those left standing did not look as though they could continue fighting. "Everyone, pull back into the camp!" Eragon shouted as they slowly wound back towards their headquarters, fending off enemy attacks all the while. They were nearing the center of the camp when Eragon saw one soldier bring his sword down into Roran's shoulder, leaving a gruesome, bloody line down into his chest. The man attempted to swing again, but Eragon stepped forward, parried the sword, and drove Brisingr through the heart of his enemy.
Eragon quickly turned his attention to Roran. He was bleeding profusely, and had already gone unconscious from blood loss. Eragon heaved Roran over his shoulder and carried him just outside of the conflict area, where Eragon healed his wounds and deposited him in a nearby forested area to keep him safe during the battle. Eragon then dove back into the battle and began to smite down any who got within reach of his sword. The Varden in Eragon's group slowly wore themselves down against the enemy, and it seemed that many more had yet to arrive. Eragon was busy fending off a group of soldiers when a hulking man came up behind him. He sensed the man's presence and turned to ward off a blow, but was a fraction of a second too slow. The lug's massive war hammer smashed into the side of Eragon's skull, sending him flying to the ground. He could hear nothing, though he could feel the thumps the man's feet made as he stood over his prey, preparing for the final kill. The last thing Eragon saw before slipping into unconsciousness was someone-or something-sprint into the man and cleave him in two.
Eragon's vision slowly returned to him as his being returned to his body. The first thing he noticed was that his head was throbbing extremely painfully, and though he could think and speak, his mind could not contact anything outside of his own body. He tried to stand but found the remains of the massive soldier lying on top of him. He was just about to use what was left of his strength to lift the man when it moved of its own accord. When the body was moved out of the way, Eragon saw Angela the herbalist and, behind her, Solembum in his feline form. If she was at all pleased that he was alive, she did not show it. "Angela," he started, "how goes the fighting?"
"The battle is nearly over, Eragon, though that is not what I am here for, nor is it what you should be concerned about". When her gaze was met by a confused stare, she continued. "For heaven's sake, man, Saphira! Do you have any idea what you've done to her?"
Eragon turned on the defensive. "How could I have done something wrong? I've been unconscious this whole time. The last contact I had with her I told her to find Nasuada's forces and aid them".
"Have you been so blind, Eragon? You have made little to no attempt to do anything more than sit next to her for over a week. Even in this conflict you wanted nothing to do with her".
"She needed her rest. I feared that if I spent as much time as I wanted to with her, she would not have recuperated enough of her strength to continue fighting". Angela sighed and she looked him directly in the eye.
"Eragon, have you not noticed her odd behavior? Or that odor that is constantly emanating from her? I had hoped you would have figured it out by now but I guess I am going to be the one to tell you. Eragon… she's in heat".
Shock filled Eragon as he stood there, mouth agape. His mind went back to all the events of the previous week. That definitely explains a lot. How could I have been so foolish? Eragon simply sat there for a moment, mouth agape, before he managed to form a question: "How long has she been like this?"
"That I do not know. Could have been a week, or it could have been a month. The heat of a dragon tends to vary in length. The important thing is that you go to her now and comfort her. If you don't, her behavior will continue to escalate and she might do something drastic. She might be at that point now. Only time will tell. Only one thing is certain; she needs you right now," Angela put a hand on his shoulder. "You know what you have to do".
Eragon solemnly nodded and strode off. Since he could not sense Saphira with his mind-the blow to the head still held its effect-he simply went in the direction he thought she would most likely be in. Truth be told, he was worried about what he was going to have to do. He had thought of Saphira and him being together before, but he worried about how this might turn out. As much as I love Saphira, I have no idea how far my love is going to take me, he thought to himself as he strode down a dirt path. If I truly do love her as a mate or if she feels the same, it wouldn't matter. Our love is not meant to be, as fate has decided that we should be of differing races. Besides, for all I know, she only will think of me in this way as long as she's in heat. His thinking was cut short as he saw Arya standing in the middle of the road, surrounded by soldiers of the Empire. The cackling resonating from the soldiers made him come to the realization that these were the Laughing Dead, the men enchanted to not feel pain. Eragon let out a war cry and started slashing at the nearest man.
All he did was laugh and laugh. The laughs of these men strike fear into the hearts of their opponents, though Eragon could withstand its effects. The man he was striking continued to laugh until Eragon had dislodged his head from the rest of his body. The man fell motionless to the floor. He and Arya quickly dispatched the rest of them in a similar manner. When the last man was slain, Eragon finally looked over at Arya. She had slashes and cuts throughout her entire body, her clothing ripped in many places, revealing parts of her body Eragon had never seen before. She looked as though she might collapse at any given moment. "Arya," he said, "You're injured. Here, let me heal your wounds".
"No, save your strength. I'll live. You know, I could've taken them without your help".
"Of course," Eragon replied, not wanting to hurt her pride.
"But, thank you for trying to save me," Arya said as she lent in and lightly kissed him. When she pulled back, her cheeks burned a dark red. Eragon had never seen this side of her. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate".
"Nonsense," Eragon said as he pulled her closer and their bodies met for the first time. He was elated by the barrage of wonderful sensations that soon overtook his entire being. When they finally pulled apart from each other, Arya was looking at him in a new light, almost as if she held the same feelings for him as he did for her. "I'm sorry, Arya. Normally I would continue this to its finality, but now I must find Saphira. I fear that if I delay much longer, things might take a turn for the worse".
"I will come with you," Arya looked up at him, her eyes now conveying a newly discovered passion for him.
"All right, but you are in no condition to move very far on your own. Here, let me help you," Eragon said. Arya nodded and Eragon draped her arm over his far shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her waist to help support her weight. She leaned her head against him as they continued down the road. The closeness of this position stimulated Eragon, and he wondered how he was going to tell her what he was going to have to do once they found Saphira.
What is happening to me?
Saphira sat alone in a clearing, pondering her feelings. Before a few weeks ago, I only thought of Eragon as my lover occasionally. Now it comes to mind almost incessantly and I don't think it will stop until I make him mine. Eragon's recent disregard towards her had no effect on her feelings for him. If anything, his treatment of her fueled her lust. First he does not want to ride her, next he tried to sleep apart from her, and finally he snapped at her and made her leave him surrounded on the battlefield. It matters not, she thought to herself, the thing that does matter is that I want-no, need-Eragon more than ever right now.
She continued to think about such things until she felt Eragon's presence in the distance. Saphira's heart lifted and she immediately sent her mind to him, but it seemed clouded by something. She could not hear his thoughts, nor could he, she assumed, hear hers. She doubted he could even feel her presence. It was definitely his mind, but they could not communicate until they came within speaking distance, and Saphira did not intend on going to him. She decided that she will wait for him, since it was likely that he was heading her way anyway.
It was then Saphira noticed something she hadn't before; she couldn't hear Eragon's thoughts, but she could still feel his emotions. From him emanated senses of pure joy, astonishment at some recently uncovered piece of information, and uncertainty of the future. One dominant feeling tied them all together; the unquenchable passion that accompanies true love. The little one has finally found love, Saphira thought to herself. Who could it be? Could it be me? Saphira was elated at the prospect. She thought of all the other pieces of information she had received from his mind and how he was coming closer to where she was, and decided he probably thought of her. With newfound happiness, she began to pace the clearing with enthusiasm, fantasizing about what was to come.
After what seemed to Saphira like hours, she started to feel Eragon's presence draw close to her. She stopped pacing and looked in the direction he would be coming from. This is the greatest thing to occur to me, other than hatching to Eragon, she thought to herself as he started to near her line of sight. We can spend our days as more than just dragon and Rider; we can become mates. It felt as though Eragon's love filled a deep thirst within her. Saphira was on the verge of insanity at Eragon's incredible slowness and was going to go and get him herself when he finally came into view.
Saphira's happiness turned to sorrow when she saw what was before her; Eragon, with a large and bloodied mark on the side of his head, had a look of jubilation upon his face and an arm wrapped tightly around Arya's waist, and Arya, who looked weakened from the wounds she carried, had an arm draped around the back of Eragon's neck while her head lay lovingly against his chest. Her sadness evolved into rage as she got a clear view into Eragon's mind and saw that all of his feelings of love were directed at Arya, though his uncertainty of the future was focused almost exclusively on Saphira. We were finally going to become more than what we were. We were going to become romantically intertwined. Then she had to intervene. How dare she take away my little one, my Rider, my lover-to-be! Saphira let a mighty roar loose from her maw and leaped at the two of them, teeth bared and claws extended.
Author's note: This is my first fanfic, so I would appreciate reviews. I can't get better if I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Also, if you were hoping for an actual sexual encounter in this chapter, sorry about that. I am working on part two which, as of this moment, has at least one sex scene. I really want it to be more driven by plot than non-stop sex, but it is part of the story. I am open for suggestions on what should happen in coming chapters. This is probably either going to turn into an EragonXSaphira, an EragonXArya, or both. It also may be a while until I can get another chapter up, as my AP classes are cutting into my spare time. I look forward to reading your reviews.