Chapter 14

The night was still quite young when Horst and his company left the house for a night with the traders. Garrow gave Eragon, Gwen, and Roran a few coins each and told them to spend them however they wish. Roran left to reunite himself with Katrina while Eragon and Gwen walked hand-in-hand up and down the camp. Every once in a while Eragon would look around to make sure that Jasper wasn't nearby as Garrow's words rang in the back of his mind, "If you run into Jasper, promise me that you will simply walk away. We do not need another fight on our hands." His uncle's words were true, but he knew that if Jasper showed up, he would have the urge to beat him.

A local here and there would ask Eragon what happened as they took notice of his bruised face. Eragon's typical response has been along the lines of, "Jasper's uncontrolled stupidity led me to fight him."

The local would either inquire more information or simply walk away shaking their head. After about two hours of aimless talk and walking around, Gwen suggested that they should go dancing with gypsies.

"Since when do you dance?" Eragon asked, cocking his head to the side in curiosity.

"I just think that it would be fun, and besides, it'll give us something to do before the bonfire." The bonfire is a long standing tradition among the traders. This was where all the merchants and townsfolk would come together to tell stories.

"I'm sure it will be loads of fun, but you should know that I can't dance."

"Tisk, tisk. Of course you can dance. Everyone can dance, it's just that everyone has their own way of dancing."

"Fine, but my way of dancing is something I do not want to make public." He started to walk away only to have Gwen grab his hand. Eragon turned to look at her as she cam dangerously close to him and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"I know that you are not saying no to me," she continued by placing her lips to his ear and whispered seductively, "I can make you dance with me." After, she started kissing his neck.

Eragon stood there paralyzed by her sexual innuendo; he has never seen this side of her before and never really put much thought that she was capable of acting like that because she always behaved as a proper girl around men, especially him. His heart pounded faster with each kiss as his hormones raged like a wildfire, uncontrolled and spreading throughout his body. Despite what his heart was telling him to do, which was to take advantage of the situation, he ended up listening to his brain. Ignoring his male instinct wasn't easy, she he was proud of himself when he pulled away from Gwen. Before she could respond, he said, "You're right, let's go dancing."

Within five minutes they were at the gypsies' camp and in a large group of people who were already dancing to an upbeat form of music. The dance steps consisted of a cross between a fast ballroom dance and an exotic dance which was why Eragon was a little nervous; at best she could perform a slow dance, but he was going to give this type of dancing a shot. He glanced at Gwen and saw that she was already dancing. The song played out as Eragon watched Gwen move. To his amazement, a slow song played but a violin sounded across the field. Eragon grabbed hold of Gwen's hand while he placed his other hand around her waist, and after, he pulled her closer to him and took a step to the left. She followed his lead, step after step, as the violin kept playing. He spun her around a few times before leading her into a dip when the song ended. A round of applause shattered the short silence. The only two hands that did not join in were Eragon and Gwen's as she was still locked in the dip. Eragon was staring into her soft, bright blue eyes as he started to lift her up. When she was fully erected, Eragon kissed her passionately on the lips.

"And you said that you can't dance?" Gwen said when the kiss ended. Eragon laughed a hearty laugh, Gwen joining in. They continued laughing even as an upbeat song played and Gwen danced in a crazy fashion by swinging her hips and waving her arms in the air. Eragon stood there for a bit watching what she was doing before he attempted to try it.

"See, you can dance if you put your mind to it." Gwen smiled and continued dancing with Eragon, each step filling them with more confidence. After about an hour of dancing, Eragon got really tired and needed a rest, so he offered to get some drinks.

"Sure, I am pretty thirsty." They headed over to a pavilion that was also a bar and sat down on a high stool.

"What'll it be?" Asked the bartender while he was cleaning out a mug.

Eragon gestured to Gwen to answer first. "Hmm…I guess I'll take a hot apple cider."

"Not much of a drinker, eh. One cider for you miss, and for you, young sir?"

"The same."

"Not you either, eh, a drinker that is."

"Well," Eragon started, "not tonight."

"All right, two ciders it is. Two coins please."

Eragon handed the man two coins before Gwen could even pull out one. As the bartender prepared their drinks Eragon said, "My treat."

"Thank you." Gwen smiled.

"No, it's nothing, really." Here the bartender handed them their drinks.

"Careful, them mugs are hot."

"Thanks," Eragon and Gwen said in unison.

Gwen took the first sip. "It's delicious."

The bartender overheard her compliment and said, "That there cider is the best brew in all of Alagaesia!"

"Is it now?"

"Sure is miss. That there cider was approved by the King himself."

"Wow, really? That's some accomplishment."

"How did you get him to taste it?" Eragon asked, unsure if the man was telling the truth.

"It's an interestin' story I tell you. You see, my father owned an apple orchard that has been passed down for generations. Over time my family has strived to make the best brew of apple cider, and soon, they did. It was written down passed down along with the orchard. They sold the cider to everyone they knew and boasted about how nor brew could be better. Well, word spread and soon a man came to the orchard who claimed that his family made the best brew. At this time, I was a small boy, but I do remember the man. He challenged my father to what he called a "Cider Challenge" and my father accepted. The terms were that they were to go to the King and have him decide on whose cider was the best. They did and the King was kind enough to drink their cider. In the end, he declared my families brew the best. The other man swallowed his pride and congratulated my father, and left, never to be seen again."

"Some story. If you don't mind me asking, why aren't you working at the orchard and, if the King did approve of your families cider, then why you don't post a sign saying so. I am sure many would drink the cider if they knew how wonderful it is."

"The orchard is in the hands of my two elder brothers. I didn't want to stay, so I left with the traders one day to sell the cider and such. 'Bout the sign idea, it's good, but you see it's a matter of family pride. I do not want to be like that man who boasted about his brew becoming an arrogant prick."

"I see. Well I am done with my drink and want to head over to the bonfire."

"Good idea," Gwen took the last sip of her cider and set it down. "Thanks for the drink and wonderful story."

"You're welcome, miss. Y'all have fun at the bonfire."

At the bonfire, the two sat down on a log not too far from where Brom was sitting. Brom was Carvahall's storyteller. Not much is known about his life except that he lives alone. Soon Brom began, "The Sands of time cannot be stopped…" he was giving a prelude before he began his initial tale. "Before your grandfather's father's were born, and yea, even before their father's, the Dragon Riders were formed…"