Oww...I have a frog the size of an elephant in my throat ... I nearly couldn't finish this, but my very helpful sister typed it while I dictated. It was exasperating but hey! The chapter is up!

Thanks so much for all the reviews!!

Chapter Thirty-Six.

A Name.

Arya and her dragon stared at each other.

Arya? he said blankly. She, with a shaking hand, pushed her bedclothes down.

Yes.

We speak now?

Arya squeaked in an undignified way. How much did he know? She had been waiting a long time for him to be able to speak, but now he was could really do it, it was unnerving. What should she do? But he was still staring at her.

Yes. We speak.

Good, he said, sounding immensely satisfied. Arya bit her lip so tightly that the blood came. What could she do? She didn't know ...

Eragon. She would call Eragon. He would know what to do. She was on the point of lowering her mental barriers and reaching out to him when she stopped. What would he think of her, coming running to him when a joyous thing as this happened? He would loose his respect for her, like she was one of the helpless females of his race.

No, she would not call him.

But he would want to know ... no, there would be plenty of time in the morning. Still, she lowered her mental wards and began to reach out to him. But before she could speak to him, another mind, strong and agile, intercepted the probe. Arya gasped as her dragon caught her thought and touched her mind directly.

--

Eragon sat up, quickly, holding his hand to his head where a sharp little pain had just stabbed him.

Saphira, did you feel that?

Yes ... who was it?

Eragon rubbed his head. I think ... he paused, then he slowly recognised the feeling of that particular mind. I think it was Arya!

Are you sure? Saphira flicked her tongue interestedly.

No ... not completely. But what if she's in trouble? He promptly began throwing off the bed covers and grabbing his clothes.

She would have told you – what happened?

She only touched my mind briefly – I only just noticed. He shoved on his boots.

Nothing will have happened to her, not here in Ellesmera, Saphira said calmly. Nonetheless, she did not complain when Eragon vaulted onto her back without waiting to throw on the saddle.

The night was cool, and it raised goosebumps on his skin through the lining of his linen shirt. As soon as Tialdari Hall was in sight, he leapt off. Will you come?

I will wait until you know what is wrong. Hurry, then. She nudged him forward and he took off through the now familiar passages to Arya's house.

--

"Arya?" a quiet voice said audibly though the screen door. Arya froze. Had he come? Had he realised it was her? No ...

"Arya?" came through the door, louder this time. "Are you there?"

She opened her mouth, but it was dry. She glanced at her dragon, who was calmly regarding the door, then said loudly, "Yes, come in."

The screen was opened and Eragon stood in the doorway, flushed with the night air, his hand on his blue sword. "Are you all right? Why did you call?"

"He ... I am sorry, I did not mean to. He talked to me and I didn't know what to do." The dragon became very much alert at this statement and sat up, making the whole house rock. Eragon's hand left his sword, but his face tightened.

He bordered on saying something, but in the end said only, "May I come in?" He was still standing in the doorway.

"Yes – of course." Only then she realised how foolish she must look with the covers about her waist. Eragon walked into the room, not looking very comfortable.

"Are you sure? I mean ..." he really looked uncomfortable now. "Would you prefer to ... dress, first?"

Arya was about to wave away this statement, but then remembered, belatedly, how she was in her nightclothes. But she could feel her dragon pressing in her mind with what might have been impatient. She shook her head.

"No. I ... would like yours and Saphira's help, though. I do not know what to do," Arya said, lifting her head high. Eragon nodded and approached her and her now standing dragon with caution. He looked ridiculously tall from her bed.

"What have you spoken of?"

"Little. He said my name and asked if we could speak now. I said yes ... but little since then. I have not been ... I was rather shocked," she amended. Eragon nodded again, looking pleased.

"The first thing Saphira said to me was my name." He winced. "I was rather rude, but there we are. Perhaps ..." he paused. "I'm sorry, Arya, but I am no expert. I have never met another dragon to talk to and never thought I would. I have never taught anyone ... I don't think I have any exceptional advice to help."

Arya frowned. "You are Shurtugal. You have done many things. I am confident that there is some help or advice you can give."

Eragon smiled grimly. "I am touched by your faith in me. I will do all I can, of course." He looked at the green dragon – who could not be called a hatchling any more, as he nearly filled her bedroom – speculatively. "May I have your permission to speak with him?"

"Certainly."

Eragon gazed at the dragon, then carefully reached out to touch his mind.

Greetings.

The dragon stared. He did not really reply in words but nodded his head.

How are you? He asked for lack of anything better. This time the dragon did speak.

Good.

Eragon found his voice enchanting: it was deep, with, of course a slightly lighter part which showed his youth, and the music that played in his mind was much like Arya's.

I am glad. Do you not want to speak with your Rider?

Arya? The young dragon paused. She is ... not good?

It was certainly a question, asking he, Eragon, why Arya was not speaking with him.

Perhaps she is shocked that you can now speak to her.

I feel it, he said wisely. Eragon blinked.

Speak and make her feel better, then? He suggested tentatively. The dragon surveyed him with bright and intelligent eyes.

Does Arya want?

Eragon was awed by the feeling and sensitivity with which he regarded Arya. Ask her, maybe?

The dragon turned his gaze on Arya. Eragon did not listen to their speech, and concentrating on looking not at Arya but at anything else to give her such privacy as she needed. She was still in her nightclothes.

After a fairly lengthy period, Arya looked away from her dragon and expression came back to her face.

"Are you all right?" he asked again. She smiled weakly.

"Yes. I understand more now – I was unsure of what to do and he thought that perhaps I did not want to talk to him."

"Better now, though?" Eragon asked tentatively, staring at her intently. She averted her gaze briefly.

"I was foolish; I should not have shied away from him. I ..." she sighed. "I was too surprised to think logically."

"It was a natural thing to do."

Arya stared at him. She didn't look like she believed him. "It was foolish. But yes, I think things are more sorted now." She looked at her dragon and smiled. "Yes, better."

"Good," he said fervently. "It would have been too awful ..." he trailed. "I cannot help but worry about my own inadequacy in this. I would never forgive myself if I could not help properly, or made a mistake." He suppressed a shudder; Arya frowned.

"Do not worry so much, Eragon. You have done very well so far, it seems to me."

"Perhaps – but you are very kind."

"No. I tell the truth." Arya said somewhat curtly.

No wrong you have done us, the green dragon said suddenly, surprising both Eragon and Arya. Eragon could see her smile slightly as he referred to them as 'we'.

"Do not worry," she told him firmly. "No harm has come to us yet."

"No," Eragon smiled. "And for that, I am immensely grateful."

"Quite." Arya rubbed her arms as a large gust of wind shook the house. "Nasty weather," she said absently. "Is there anything more?"

"I ..." Eragon hesitated. "I may be mistaken, but a name is essential to how a dragon and Rider communicate."

"A name ...?" Arya repeated speculatively. "Is it not a little early?"

"I am sure he will decide."

Arya transferred her gaze to her dragon and said gently, Would you like to have name now?

Name? 'Arya' and 'Saphira'? He asked with much interest.

Yes, just like those names, only your own. I don't like having to say 'hatchling' all the time.

He snorted. I do not know names.

Eragon and I will show you a lot of them and you can choose one you approve of. Arya could feel him digesting this sentence and making sense of the unfamiliar words.

Yes. It is good. I will have a name.

Arya felt an awful urge to laugh like a young elfling and turned to Eragon. "Yes, he wants a name!"

Eragon smiled caught up in her suddenly very apparent delight. "How many names do you know?"

"Names? I know many dragon name's from the old stories. But surely you know more?"

"No, I do not. I probably know far less than you," Eragon said. Arya was about to reply, when Saphira interrupted them.

Why have you been blocking me?! I have been trying to talk to you for a long while!

I'm sorry, Saphira –

What has happened?!

The hatchling has begun to talk, Eragon said hurriedly. We ... he wants a name.

And you did not think to include me?! Saphira snorted. You took your time!

I forgot, Saphira, I apologise.

Mmph. Be that as it may, you can now think of letting me into your conversations. What names have you been offering him?

None, yet. We were just about to.

Oh. carry on, then. Eragon could feel Saphira settling down to enjoy the process. Do you still remember all those names Brom gave you?

Yes, Eragon replied with a laugh. Especially the male ones.

Saphira snorted yet again. You should hurry up; we cannot wait forever, you know.

Of course.

Eragon turned his attention back to Arya. "You start first," he said with a quick bow. Arya smiled, then said promptly to the dragon:

Smrgol?

The dragon did not hesitate before sending back a 'no'. Arya glanced at Eragon and tried again.

Gorbash?

No, he said quickly. Arya said after a moment,

Charizard?

No.

Eingana?

No.

Falkor?

No.

Galeru?

No.

Arya paused, thinking.

Griaule?

No.

Swarthorn?

No.

Arya tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and said, Domhaini? The dragon sent back a firm dismissal.

Fithern?

No.

Wythnos?

No.

Arya frowned. "How do dragons choose their names?" she asked Eragon, thinking of Saphira's beautiful and well-fitting name. Eragon shrugged.

"They can sense it, I think. They know instinctively the name that suits them best – but to dragons, names are more important than they are to mortals. Their name defines them, helps them become themselves." He paused. "Saphira knew her name, in a way. She only needed me to voice it."

Arya stared at her as yet unnamed dragon. His jewel bright emerald eyes were sparkling; he was thoroughly enjoying this late-night ceremony. Arya drummed her fingers on the bedclothes, thinking.

Hasufel?

No.

Trithen?

No.

Istiar?

No.

Arya sighed. There are only so many names I can recite! Her dragon flicked his tail and rumbled in amusement.

You will find one, Arya, he said, forming the words carefully.

All right ... how about Rhandr?

No.

Mogahib?

No.

Eragon was still standing a respectable distance from her bedside. She turned to him in despair. "I know no more names," she said, frustrated. "You must think of some."

He shifted uncomfortably. "It should be you that names him, Arya."

"How can I name him when he has refused all those I know? You must help."

Eragon nodded, conceding to this point. "Brom told me many names in Carvahall." He reached out cautiously to touch the young dragon's mind.

I know some that you may like, he said, asking for permission to suggest them. The dragon sent back an affirmative.

Jura, Hirador? Fundor? The dragon sent back a no. Eragon tried again.

Galzra? Briam?

No.

Beroan? Roslarb? Once again, the dragon refused the names. Eragon frowned; there was one more, certainly, that Brom had told him. What was it ... ?

Valinor? He said eagerly. The dragon shook his head, and sent back a no. Eragon sagged in disappointment and looked down at Arya.

"Those are all I can remember at this moment," he told her. She nodded distractedly, and motioned to her bed.

"Sit down," she said absently. Startled, he took a moment to obey her command. "Did Valinor not have a son?" she said suddenly.

"Yes ... he did." Eragon felt the name coming back to him. "It was ... Eridor, was it not?"

"Yes!" Arya turned to her dragon.

Are you Eridor?

He said nothing. Then, after a long pause:

Yes. I am Eridor.

--

Gosh, this was hard to write. I don't like it at all, but there we are. What d'you think?