Chapter 25: A Snap in the Blood
The feast that afternoon was sumptuous and it carried on well into the late night. Rather than being held in the dining halls, the dwarves had carted all the fighting equipment off the training fields, and set up table after table of food. If that weren't enough, there were picnic blankets set up to the sides, and a slew of musicians from the Clan Ingeitum had taken a spot just off the main table.
Eragon, as a Dragonrider and member of Clan Ingeitum, was seated at the main table with Wodin and several other high ranking Ingeitum dwarves. Hrothgar's direct family, including Orik, were seated at the next table over, and all other honorary guests (including the elves, Roran and Katrina, and Raya) were seated at that table. Eragon could see Raya out of the corner of his eye and he thought it was silly that he had been pulled away from his companions. But he paid some attention to Wodin and to the dwarves around him.
Meanwhile, Saphira and Tunivor had taken a comfortable spot towards the side, and there was a large crowd of dwarf children there, singing and laughing. Several were bringing long strands of ribbon and chains of flowers, and attaching them in ridiculous configurations onto the dragons neck spikes, and facial spines. Saphira had grumbled at first, but upon seeing the way Tunivor handled it, she softened. The children were like puppies, climbing all over the two dragons, kissing them, and calling for their attention. Tunivor lavished time and smiles on each child, and allowed them to climb all over his face. One went up to spot where Raya's saddle would go, and called out to anyone who would hear that he was going to be the first dwarf rider.
When the music started up, Eragon watched in an amused way as the dwarf women appeared from the crowd, forming a half circle in the open dance floor. The music started out very slowly, and it looked as though the dwarf women weren't going to go anywhere, just meander in the clearing, when the music sped up, to a very upbeat tempo, the dwarf women pulled out scarves, and started a rapid quickstep. The steps weren't complicated, and through watching, Eragon saw a pattern, but they were so fast, and so coordinated, that the sight was one that was very impressive.
Just as Eragon was getting bored, a slew of young dwarf men ran forward, with whoops of laughter and added to the dance. They had their own pattern of footwork (again, nothing too complicated) but so completely coordinated, Eragon wondered if the dances were planned, or if everyone simply knew them by heart. He didn't see any dwarves that he recognized, but he could see people were enjoying the energetic dancing.
The dances continued, each relatively playing out the same sequence of steps, but Eragon noticed that the dwarf girls looked different, like they were from different clans each time. Eragon wondered if the first group had been Ingeitum. He asked Wodin.
"Was the first group Ingeitum?" Eragon asked quietly, leaning over to whisper in Wodins ear.
"No, they're up in a few minutes. Have you seen our dances before?" Wodin said back, not bothering to whisper.
"I'm afraid not. This is the first time I'm seeing them. Does everyone just know these steps?" Eragon asked, putting forward the first question which had come into his mind.
"Yes. Our boys and girls learn them very young. Some become very good at them, some less so. But they are danced at every birthday, wedding, and any other happy occasion, such as this." Wodin clapped as the existing dancers were switched out with a new one. "The one after this should be Ingeitum."
"How do you pick the dancers?" Eragon asked.
"Pick them? We don't. Whoever wants to dance can dance, provided they can find a partner." Wodin was smiling as the gentlemen came out with more whoops, almost like they were trying to scare the women, but the ladies knew it was coming. People clapped and laughed at the young dwarves' antics.
When the group changed, Eragon sat up to watch the Ingeitum dancers. He looked to see if Raya was watching. She'd no doubt seen all this before, but still, each dance team did something different. Eragon noticed from his seat that Raya was no longer at the table, and neither was Orik. When the women came forward in their part of the dance, Raya had jumped into the group. The younger women didn't seem to mind her there.
Her footwork was as good as any dwarf ladies, and they were moving fast. When they pulled out a scarf, Raya used a strand of glittering magic to take the place of the scarf. When the men came running out, Eragon noticed Orik was dancing with his beloved Hvedra. Eragons eyes scanned the group as the men danced: Raya wouldn't have a partner. It took one glance, and Eragon made the split second decision to move.
"Excuse me King Wodin," Eragon grumbled, passing quickly through the crowd until he was near Raya. "You know, you're supposed to have a partner before you start dancing."
"There were always extras. I guess less brave souls this year." Raya said, quickly showing him the step.
"I noticed it when I was at the main table. I can do it." Eragon said, not believing he was about to do this.
"Yes, but can you do it fast enough?" Raya said, her eyes twinkling. Eragon grunted at her and showed her that, with his elfin skill, he could indeed do the footwork at the same speed the dwarves did. "Good. You're up." She pushed him into the line of dwarves just behind Orik. Eragon could hear the music, and he could see the steps Orik was doing in front of him, and he mimicked them, falling only a second behind the dwarves. Once he had picked up the rhythm of the dance with the rhythm of the music, Eragon was fine.
As he turned to face the line of girls, he noticed that people were watching him in the line of dwarves, including Wodin and his fellow Grimstborith. Raya's eyes were laughing at him. He came forward, leaning in to her as the dance required.
"Something wrong?" he asked, wondering if he'd ruined something by coming out here like this.
"They're watching you. Me too, but I'm not Ingeitum. If you can do this, you might as well be clan." Raya whispered, pulled back from him, throwing her hands in the air and skipping around him. When Eragon knelt as he was supposed to, he spoke again.
"But so what? Any elf can move this fast." He glanced into the part of the crowd where the three Vinr Alfakyn stood watching.
"They have their own dances. And humans can't dance this fast. Only the dwarves do this. You doing it, means you are Ingeitum in custom and practice, as well as in name." Raya spun only inches from him, and he clapped his hands near her feet, watching the speed at which she moved. Unlike the dwarf women, she was very much dressed as an elf, wearing leggings, boots and a tunic, whereas the dwarf women all wore skirts and dainty slippers.
He and Raya finished the dance, and pulled out from the group. Orik was up next to them in a blink. "Well done, Eragon!" he clapped Eragon soundly on the shoulder and gave Raya a smile.
"I can move just as fast as you, dwarf-brother," Eragon teased, putting an arm around Orik's shoulders. Every few feet, Eragon was stopped by the Ingeitum dwarves, complimenting his speed, and offering their congratulations that he had learned the dances so well.
"When did you have time to practice? Surely not amongst the elves?" joked one dwarf, and Eragon shrugged. Raya was equally complimented, but because she wasn't Ingeitum, the compliments weren't nearly as profuse as Eragons. He found her a bit later, and handed her a glass with what had tasted like mead in it.
"Thirsty?" he asked her, extending one of the cups.
"Yes! Please and thank you," she said, taking the cup from him. "Hmm. Not a year I recognize. Perhaps this is more recent. It's become more floral, more fruity since I left." She commented, taking a sip. Eragon leaned on the clearing wall behind her and Raya turned to face him. "Not too warm from the dancing are we?"
"A little too warm from everything. There must be a hundred thousand dwarves here. All of them dancing around, I wouldn't be surprised if steam was escaping from the top of Farthen Dur. Then the dancing, and the food, and the mead." Eragon took a sip from the cup, noticing the fruity taste.
"Tired already?" she asked, leaning against the wall. Eragon had leaned there, knowing the stone would be cooler than the tables. He had been right.
"Not in the slightest. Just warm. Especially with you standing inches from me." Eragon said it, and bit his tongue as it came out. Maybe no mead for him. He'd only had a few sips and he was already far too loose tongued. He could see Raya's face, but couldn't read her expression. She leaned into him, placing a palm flat on his shoulder.
"I make you warm?" she giggled into his ear. "Is this too close to you?" Her eyes were laughing and smiling and Eragon could feel the spot where she was pressing onto his shoulder. But she wasn't close, no. Her hips, stomach, and legs were all about a foot away, and though she was close enough to whisper, she wasn't 'too close.' Eragon pondered his next move. He could push her away. He could tell her he was uncomfortable with the idea of her in his arms. But he could also pull her closer. That he could be comfortable with her closeness.
"No," he imagined the way Dukat had put his (her?) hands at Raya's hips and pulled her in close. Eragon knew what he was doing and was conscious of his limbs doing the same thing, but he didn't recall sending them the message to do it. His hands snaked out to Raya's hips and tugged her closer: she fell into him, laughing. His arm floated around her easily, holding her pressed to him. Raya didn't pull away and Eragon felt his heart lift, no, he felt his heart soar.
"Feeling frisky?" she asked, putting her arms around his neck and pushing her hands into his hair. She smiled at him, her grin reminding Eragon very much of the grins Dukat had sent his way. It was a playful grin, one that did not exude lust and sex, but rather, the desire to play. Eragon quirked an eyebrow at her and felt his mouth tug into a sideways smile.
"A little. Though I see you're in a playful mood." Eragon felt Raya shift so that the points of her hips were just above and to the sides of his hips. Raya's hands were still in his hair and he could feel her fingers working through the strands, almost massaging his scalp. "A very playful mood." Eragon felt his voice catch when she twisted her hips again, so that she was pressing on him in a very different place. Well that feels interesting, registered a part of his brain.
"So, why don't you play with me?" she asked, a smile coloring her voice, and Eragon still found it immensely hard to read her expression. He didn't quite know what he was supposed to say or do when a woman expressed that sort of comment. Did he just keep talking? Maybe, she could tell him how, specifically, they could 'play.'
"Well, I've got several games in mind," he joked a bit, extending the conversation while his brain raced for ideas. What to do, what to do? She didn't say anything, just watched him think. Eventually, when she realized that Eragon really had no idea how to react, Raya relaxed completely onto him, laughing. She had been leaning against him, but she'd managed to take most of her weight onto her own leg; now she'd just collapsed and Eragon felt her warm weight pressing him in several places.
"I need you to do something for me," she said, when she'd stopped laughing at him. "I need you to tune out Saphira. She's going to start messing around in your head, and you can't listen to her. Got it?" Eragon didn't quite know what Raya had up her sleeve, but he figured it wouldn't hurt and indulged her.
"Okay, Saphira is tuned out." He said, and watched as she looked around. She pulled him around the bend in the wall. There were significantly less dwarves and less light there. Raya pinned him up against the wall. Eragon's brain immediately reacted, sending up mental barriers and bracing himself for an attack. Raya didn't attack.
She took his hands, guiding them till they were back around her waist, with one dangling considerably too close to her behind. His other hand was at the small of her back. Raya wrapped on hand over the hinge in his jaw, grabbing his hair with her fingers. Her other hand had snaked towards his waist, pulling the shirt from his belt and digging her fingers into the skin on his hip. She yanked his head toward her, stepping onto her toes so she could meet him halfway.
Her lips were warm against his. Very different than when he'd pulled her out of the lake. There was a strange thrill in feeling her mouth sear with heat against his. Whatever thoughts had been in his mind, evaporated. Her kiss was like a punch in the gut, but he loved every second of it. The weird flopping sensation gave way to a roar inside of him, and he realized exactly why his hands were where they were. He pulled her up with one hand, and closer with the other. His system rushed into overdrive, and his blood snapped as Raya opened her mouth and nipped at his lower lip.
Her mouth wasn't patient or kind, didn't persuade or tease. She just took what she wanted, and the sensation of being swept up, carried away by her mouth, left him feeling giddy and loose limbed. Raya's fingers clenched harder on his hip, sliding higher up his shirt and Eragon felt his skin explode. His muscles went through spasm after quick spasm, until he stopped fighting them, and he felt his mind go liquid. He had no idea what part of his brain told him to move, some part of him that was wrapped deep in instinct, but his body moved. He pulled her closer then pivoted so that she was the one against the wall.
She squealed a bit into his mouth and Eragon could feel her smile through the kiss. She wrapped both arms around his neck, folding them at the elbows so she was up as close as possible. Because the kiss was feeling good on his end, and Eragon wanted more, he let one hand traverse down her side until he was about at her knee, bending a bit while his hand moved. When she paused to take a breath, he caught her up, hitching her up by the hips until she was higher than him, and looking down into him. He held her up only with his body, and felt her leg wrap around his side. Eragon's senses were roaring: his clothes were too tight, too itchy, and his skin was screaming. He wanted her to touch him again. Her fingertips had been cool on his skin. When he couldn't take the heat of it anymore, Eragon pulled away from her mouth and pressed his forehead into her neck.
She leaned against him, breathing hard, pressing her mouth to the exposed skin on his neck. Eragon inhaled slowly through his nose to try to clear his head. Her kissing him had been unexpected, and he didn't know quite what to do with himself. The thoughts trickled back into his mind. But when he inhaled again, he smelled her, and that made his senses sizzle and snap again.
Lilacs. And Jasmine. She smelled of lilacs, and jasmine, and there was something else, something warm and earthy that Eragon recognized as dragon. That warm musky dragon smell seemed to bond to the lilac and the jasmine and everything just smelled stronger and more delectable. He guessed he smelled of dragon too. Because of Saphira.
Oh, Gods! Saphira! More thoughts pushed into his brain and he felt his breathing go from labored from lust to frantic. Oh, Saphira is going to be unhappy, rationed a part of his mind.
And why on earth would I be unhappy? Whatever you just did, is making me tingle in a way that is both pleasant, and non-obtrusive. Saphira's voice flitted through his head, and exited quickly.
"You started thinking." Raya whispered huskily in his ear. "Dangerous when you're as inexperienced as you are. You shouldn't be thinking." It dripped into his mind like honey, and wiped all thoughts from his head. He looked up at her. Raya's pupils were wide, and her mouth was open. "Listen to your body. It was doing fine a minute ago." She grinned and took his mouth with hers. His body hummed with the kiss.
Eragon opened his mouth. Her tongue flicked gently at his lips. He opened just a little bit more, and he felt her tongue sneak through, gently probing the corners of his mouth: tasting, caressing, exploring. She ran the tip of her tongue gently, from the back of his throat, down the roof of his mouth and down the ribbing. Eragon shivered as she did it one more time and pulled her tongue out. He pulled back again.
"That was amazing." Eragon whispered, correcting his stance so Raya wasn't completely pinned against the wall. "How do I do that?"
She kissed the hinge of his jaw, sucking a bit, then moved down his neck. When she got to his shirt collar, she went back up, then followed his jaw to his chin, then from his chin, back to his mouth. "Wouldn't you love to know." She teased him, placing little kisses on his mouth, which frustrated him, because he liked the whole kiss. "If you want, I can show you."
"Show me." The words spilled out of Eragon's mouth before he could think about whether he wanted to learn this from Raya. He did. It was pure and simple. He liked what she did to him, and he wanted her to feel like that when he kissed her. He wanted to keep kissing her. It felt good. No wonder people liked it so much.
"Oh, you've had your fill for today. If I show you more, next thing you know, we'll be disappearing from the party, and that would be very, very, rude." Raya had stopped kissing his mouth, but instead traced a line of kissed up his nose to the point between his eyes, and to the point where his nose met his brow. He tried kissing at her neck, but all he got was hair and clothes, and not nearly enough of the skin on her neck.
"Drat," he whispered. "When's my next lesson?" he asked, slowly letting her down from her perch on his hips. She stayed close, her arms still wrapped around Eragons shoulders.
"We'll see. Tomorrow maybe. Or later tonight." Raya stood up on tip-toe and kissed him one more time then disentangled herself from him. She fixed her clothes, checking his as well, and brushed his hair down. "No point giving people ideas." She picked up her glass of mead from where she'd put it and, putting her hand ever so briefly on his shoulder, she strolled of, a new and different sway to her hips, and a more luxurious and lazy roll to her stride. Eragon leaned his head into the wall.
If he closed his eyes, he could taste her again. Her skin was just a little salty, and her mouth had tasted of the mead and it had been heady and warm and delicious. That was excellent, he thought, stroking his lip with a finger. What was that? I mean, it was a kiss. But what brought it on? Where did all those snaps in the blood, the sizzle in my veins come from? And how did I know to do all that I did?
Saphira's thoughts entered his mind, grazing the edges of his consciousness. I told you Eragon, just because you've never done it, doesn't mean your body doesn't know what it is. That was pure animal instinct. Fun, isn't it?