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When George woke up early the next morning, he immediately felt a warm body cuddled very close to his. He lifted his head and looked to see his sleeping mate cuddled against his side, sleeping peacefully with soft snores. The sight brought a smile to the silver-scaled dragon as he remembered what happened last night between them.
He made up for the time away from Saphira, using their passion to tell her how much he missed her. They went at it for a while before eventually sleeping when exhausted, Eragon came in a few hours after they finished mating. But George was content now. He had the dragoness he loved sleeping at his see once again. He softly Nuzzled her cheek before reluctantly he pulled away from her warm body and transformed back to his human form, fixing his fixed trench coat before grabbing Darkstride and sheathed it across his back.
Since arriving at the Varden and gaining Ajihad's trust and confidence, he wanted the swordsman to work with the weapons master Fredric. Seeing how skilled with a sword he was, Fredric asked him to help him with training the Varden's soldiers, something George agreed to as he did need something to do at the fine as he waited for Saphira and Eragon to arrive. Plus it reminded him of when h trained new recruits in the war against Bloodwolf. Though George had to hold back a bit as the Varden's men weren't exactly on the same skill set as George or even Eragon, George has only been given a challenge and rival in skill from Bloodwolf, Brom, and Eragon.
As he fixed his shirt, he heard Saphira beginning to stir and looked to the dragoness to see an eye tiredly opening a little to look at him. What's going on? She asked in a soft, tired voice.
George walked over and kneeled down so he was rubbing her snout softly and pressed a kiss on the bridge of her snout. Sorry love, I've got some stuff to do today and needed to get up.
Well, I'll come with you. Saphira said as she began to rise.
No. George stopped her. No, you and Eragon need your rest. You've been journeying here for a while and should get used to be in warm confines now instead of the outside. Don't worry, my love, I'll be fine. Just sleep a little while longer, you need it.
Saphira softly huffed, not pleased she wouldn't have her mate sleeping next to her after their deed last night, plus she was exhausted from their mating. Fine. But as soon as Eragon wakes, we're coming to find you.
Got it. George said before kissing her lightly on her scaly lips, a kiss she softly returned before falling asleep again and he left the large room.
It took him about an hour to reach the training fields. A majority of the city was still asleep or deep within it's marble walls. Only a few men were up and sparring, George made out the hulking figure of Fredric who raised a hand in greeting and George nodded back before unsheathing Darkstride to begin training with the recruits and men.
A while later, he finished sparring with the last soldier before sheathing Darkstride when he heard a voice behind him. "Well, well, well, you are quite skilled as my father says." He looked to see someone he's met during his time here, Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad and a good Friend of George's. "Though seeing it in person may show truth to his claims."
"Well, Nasuada, some underestimate my skill when they just hear about it and not actually see it. Some have said I'm the greatest swordsman the world has ever seen." George said with a smile.
Nasuada chuckled. "I believe that. You may be the greatest swordsman or one of THE greatest and skilled Swordsman in Alagaésia."
They continued speaking about anything really, Ajihad's confidence and trust in George, George's feelings and opinions on the war with Galbatorix which he said was needed in order to free the land. They soon heard a blast of air and looked up to see Saphira taking off from the dragonhold, Eragon atop her shoulders. When she landed and saw Gejrge and Nasuada, George was sure he saw a strange glint in his mate's eyes.
"Good Mor-" George was cut off when Saphira darted her head forward and pressed her lips against his. Surprised, but not refusing it, he kissed back just as passionately as Saphira. They cared not for the looks some gave them, not everyone would like seeing a human and dragon kiss. Eventually the kiss broke. "-Ning." George shook his head. "Um, Nasuada this Eragon and his dragon Saphira. Eragon, Saphira, this is Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad and a friend of mine."
As Nasuada and Eragon talked, George looked at Saphira. Wasn't expecting the kiss there.
Saphira chuckled and Nuzzled him. George I love you, you are my mate, I don't care what others say if they see something like that. It's none of their business after all.
Ah. George nodded before pecking her lips, making her him in happiness. Best way to say Good morning.
Saphira snorted in amusement before she looked at Nasuada and narrowed her eyes. So, you were speaking with another female.
George sighed and rubbed her side. Don't be jealous, Saphira.
I'm not jealous. Saphira said quickly. Why would I be jealous of some human? Her tail then wrapped around his waist and kept him close, causing him to look at her with an amused smile. She caught this and huffed. Just so she knows who you belong to.
Right...rest assured i will do the same if ANY male dragon dates look at what's mine with looks I don't like. George said, his own dragon instincts rising.
Saphira purred and Nuzzled his cheek. Possessive of me, aren't you?
Just as you are of me. George said and kissed her again for a few seconds. Nasuada spoke with Eragon for a few more minutes before bidding them farewell to go do her own duties. George then spoke up. Shall we get some breakfast, I'm starving?"
"Ah! Dwarven mead." George said as he finished drinking a mug of Dwarven mead. That stuff was amazing z more tasty than the alcohol in George's world.
"I thought you didn't drink such stuff." Eragon said as George didn't drink any mead at that tavern in Dras-Leona.
"Dwarven mead is way better than the mead you get in a tarvern. No wonder the dwarves here drink it to death." George said with a chuckle as he watched Saphira taste the mead herself. "Careful Saphira, don't want you to have a drinking problem, do we?
Oh shush you. Saphira huffed as Eragon and George laughed.
Orik soon came up to them. "There you are! I've been looking for you Three"
"Apologies, Orik. But we got hungry." George said but Orik waved him off.
"No worries." The dwarf said. "My king, Hrothgar, wishes to see the three of you. I am to take you to him."
"Lead the way." Eragon said and the two boys and dragoness followed the dwarf out of the eating room. Ignoring stares from people within the soaring corridor, Eragon asked, "Where will we meet Hrothgar?"
Without slowing, Orik said, "In the throne room beneath the city. It will be a private audience as an act of otho—of 'faith.' You do not have to address him in any special manner, but speak to him respectfully. Hrothgar is quick to anger, but he is wise and sees keenly into the minds of men, so think carefully before you speak."
Once they entered Tronjheim's central chamber, Orik led the way to one of the two descending stairways that flanked the opposite hall. They started down the right-hand staircase, which gently curved inward until it faced the direction they had come from. The other stairway merged with theirs to form a broad cascade of dimly lit steps that ended, after a hundred feet, before two granite doors. A seven-pointed crown was carved across both doors.
Seven dwarves stood guard on each side of the portal. They held burnished mattocks and wore gem-encrusted belts. As Eragon, George, Orik, and Saphira approached, the dwarves pounded the floor with the mattocks' hafts. A deep boom rolled back up the stairs. The doors swung inward.
A dark hall lay before them, a good bowshot long. The throne room was a natural cave; the walls were lined with stalagmites and stalactites, each thicker than a man. Sparsely hung lanterns cast a moody light. The brown floor was smooth and polished. At the far end of the hall was a black throne with a motionless figure upon it.
Orik bowed. "The king awaits you." Eragon put his hand on Saphira's side, as did George, and the three of them continued forward. The doors closed behind them, leaving them alone in the dim throne room with the king. Their footsteps echoed through the hall as they advanced toward the throne. In the recesses between the stalagmites and stalactites rested large statues. Each sculpture depicted a dwarf king crowned and sitting on a throne; their sightless eyes gazed sternly into the distance, their lined faces set in fierce expressions. A name was chiseled in runes beneath each set of feet.
Eragon, George and Saphira strode solemnly between the two rows of long-dead monarchs. They passed more than forty statues, then only dark and empty alcoves awaiting future kings. They stopped before Hrothgar at the end of the hall.
Both George and Eragon bowed and knelt. Saphira remained upright. The king stirred, as if awakening from a long sleep, and rumbled, "Rise, Rider and Bladewolf. you need not pay tribute to me."
Straightening, the two met Hrothgar's impenetrable eyes. The king inspected them with a hard gaze, then said gutturally, "z knurl deimi lanok.'Beware, the rock changes'—an old dictum of ours. . . . And nowadays the rock changes very fast indeed." He fingered the war hammer. "I could not meet with you earlier, as Ajihad did, because I was forced to deal with my enemies within the clans. They demanded that I deny you sanctuary and expel you from Farthen Dûr. It has taken much work on my part to convince them otherwise."
"Thank you," said Eragon. "I didn't anticipate how much strife my arrival, or George's, would cause."
The king accepted his thanks, then lifted a gnarled hand and pointed. "See there, Rider Eragon, Bladewolf, where my predecessors sit upon their graven thrones. One and forty there are, with I the forty-second. When I pass from this world into the care of the gods, my hírna will be added to their ranks. The first statue is the likeness of my ancestor Korgan, who forged this mace, Volund. For eight millennia—since the dawn of our race—dwarves have ruled under Farthen Dûr. We are the bones of the land, older than both the fair elves and the savage dragons." Saphira shifted slightly and George sent her reassuring feelings.
Hrothgar leaned forward, his voice gravelly and deep. "I am old, humans—even by our reckoning—old enough to have seen the Riders in all their fleeting glory, old enough to have spoken with their last leader, Vrael, who paid tribute to me within these very walls. Few are still alive who can claim that much. I remember the Riders and how they meddled in our affairs. I also remember the peace they kept that made it possible to walk unharmed from Tronjheim to Narda.
"And now you stand before me—a lost tradition revived. Tell me, Rider Eragon, and speak truly in this, why have you come to Farthen Dûr? I know of the events that made you flee the Empire, but what is your intent now?"
"For now, Saphira, George and I merely want to recuperate in Tronjheim," Eragon replied. "We are not here to cause trouble, only to find sanctuary from the dangers we've faced for many months. Ajihad may send us to the elves, but until he does, we have no wish to leave."
"Then was it only the desire for safety that drove you?" asked Hrothgar. "Do you just seek to live here and forget your troubles with the Empire?"
Eragon shook his head, his pride rejecting that statement. "If Ajihad told you of my past, you should know that I have grievances enough to fight the Empire until it is nothing but scattered ashes. More than that, though . . . I want to aid those who cannot escape Galbatorix, including my cousin. I have the strength to help, so I must."
The king seemed satisfied by his answer. He turned to Saphira and asked, "Dragon, what think you in this matter? For what reason have you come?"
Saphira lifted the edge of her lip to growl. Tell him that I thirst for the blood of our enemies and eagerly await the day when we ride to battle against Galbatorix. I've no love or mercy for traitors and egg breakers like that false king. He held me for over a century and, even now, still has two of my brethren, whom I would free if possible. And tell Hrothgar I think you ready for this task.
Bit violent. George told her but she snorted.
Eragon grimaced at her words, but dutifully relayed them. The corner of Hrothgar's mouth lifted in a hint of grim amusement, deepening his wrinkles. "I see that dragons have not changed with the centuries." He rapped the throne with a knuckle. "Do you know why this seat was quarried so flat and angular? So that no one would sit comfortably on it. I have not, and will relinquish it without regret when my time comes. What is there to remind you of your obligations, Eragon? If the Empire falls, will you take Galbatorix's place and claim his kingship?"
"I don't seek to wear the crown or rule," said Eragon, troubled. "Being a Rider is responsibility enough. No, I would not take the throne in Urû'baen . . . not unless there was no one else willing or competent enough to take it."
Hrothgar warned gravely, "Certainly you would be a kinder king than Galbatorix, but no race should have a leader who does not age or leave the throne. The time of the Riders has passed, Eragon. They will never rise again—not even if Galbatorix's other eggs were to hatch."
A shadow crossed his face as he gazed at Eragon's side. "I see that you carry an enemy's sword; I was told of this, and that you travel with a son of the Forsworn. It does not please me to see this weapon." He extended a hand. "I would like to examine it."
Eragon drew Zar'roc and presented it to the king, hilt first. Hrothgar grasped the sword and ran a practiced eye over the red blade. The edge caught the lantern light, reflecting it sharply. The dwarf king tested the point with his palm, then said, "A masterfully forged blade. Elves rarely choose to make swords—they prefer bows and spears—but when they do, the results are unmatched. This is an ill-fated blade; I am not glad to see it within my realm. But carry it if you will; perhaps its luck has changed." He returned Zar'roc, and Eragon sheathed it. "Has my nephew proved helpful during your time here?"
"Who?"
Hrothgar raised a tangled eyebrow. "Orik, my youngest sister's son. He's been serving under Ajihad to show my support for the Varden. It seems that he has been returned to my command, however. I was gratified to hear that you defended him with your words."
Eragon understood that this was another sign of otho, of "faith," on Hrothgar's part. "I couldn't ask for a better guide."
"That is good," said the king, clearly pleased. "Unfortunately, I cannot speak with you much longer. My advisors wait for me, as there are matters I must deal with. I will say this, though: If you wish the support of the dwarves within my realm, you must first prove yourself to them. We have long memories and do not rush to hasty decisions. Words will decide nothing, only deeds."
"I will keep that in mind," said Eragon, bowing again.
Hrothgar nodded regally. "You may go, then."
Eragon turned with Saphira and George, and they proceeded out of the hall of the mountain king. Orik was waiting for them on the other side of the stone doors, an anxious expression on his face. He fell in with them as they climbed back up to Tronjheim's main chamber. "Did all go well? Were you received favorably?"
"I think so. But your king is cautious," said Eragon.
"That is how he has survived this long."
Eragon looked at his two companions to see George had changed to his dragon form. A smile came onto the Rider's face. I take it you two want some time together?
If that is okay. George said.
Eragon chuckled. it's okay with me. I'll be fine down here. On you two go, I'm sure you still want to catch up after being away from each other for so long.
The two dragons snorted before taking off into the air for a flight to spend more time with each other...though their alone time ended up having them go back to the dragonhold for some intimate time together.
Saphira can't get pregnant because it isn't mating season yet. When a dragoness is in heat, that's when she can bear hatchlings before her cycle stops. And right now the happy couple haven't talked about having children...yet.
Should Saphira get pregnant when they are at the Elves in Eldest?
Because they will be part human, the hatchlings will age like normal humans but still able to change from dragon to human.