It had been two more weeks, and Brom and Armelle's father had decided to start training her in gaining the mental control needed for magic, and when she wasn't, she was spending time with Argenta. Most days, if he wasn't doing chores, Eragon would join her and spend time with his hatchling.
Armelle was sitting in the Spine with Argenta, leaning against her belly, which emanated warmth. The half-elf was anxious for her first ride, but she wasn't sure her silver dragon was large enough. She was still growing quickly, but, having hatched smaller, she wasn't the size she should be.
Armelle, Argenta said quietly, nudging her Rider gently with her snout. Would you like to see what it's like to fly?
The teen turned on the dragon with wide silver eyes of her own. "Really?" She said aloud, too shocked to hold her her reply inside.
The dragon made the move to stand, angling herself so Armelle could pull herself onto her scaly back.
She did, holding onto one of Argenta's ivory colored spikes and pulling herself up.
Once she was settled, Argenta looked back at her with soft silver eyes, and said, Hold on. She leaped into the air, her strong legs sending her high before she flapped her powerful wings, climbing higher and higher into the sky. Each movement of Argenta's scales peeled skin off of Armelle's inner thighs layer by layer, but she was too ecstatic from the flight to notice the stinging that had nestled there.
Argenta caught an updraft with her wings, angling them to take them even higher.
Armelle laughed from excitement, and she could feel the adrenaline moving in her veins. "This is amazing!" She called above the sound of rushing winds in her ears and the steady thumping beat of her silver wings.
Glad you're enjoying yourself, Argenta replied with an expression almost that of a smile. She tucked her wings against her sides, and angled herself downward, hurtling toward that ground with her neck stretched out to form a torpedo shape.
Armelle gasped and grabbed onto one of her spikes, clutching it tightly to keep from falling off.
At about ten feet from the ground, Argenta's wings spread back out with a whoosh as she floated back into the air.
Armelle didn't realize anything was wrong until she felt hot liquid dripping from her inner thighs down her legs. She glanced down and saw that her pants, now torn and ruined, were stained crimson. She swallowed hard, pain spiking in her legs.
"I think it's time to land, Argenta." She said, and the dragon circled back around to the large tree where they usually sat.
The half-elf slid off the dragon, brushing her long golden hair behind her pointed ear so she could examine the injuries without it the blonde strands in her way. The flesh was bloody and chafed, the flesh revealing far past the layers of her skin. She gasped as the pain intensified, forcing her to sit and take her weight off her legs. Her thighs looked as though she had rubbed them with a cheese grater.
Argenta laid down beside her, looking apologetic. I'm sorry, little one. I should have realized my scales would chafe you.
Armelle tried at a reassuring smile, but it turned into a grimace. "It's alright." She replied. "I was too excited to think about any possible consequences. I will speak with my father and Brom to see if we can do anything to fix this problem."
Argenta's regret filled both of their senses.
"Hey," Armelle soothed gently, stroking the silver dragon's shining scales. "Don't fret. That was the most fun I've ever had."
Argenta looked at her Rider with large silver eyes that were filled with swirling emotions. Really?
The half-elf smiled, her windblown golden hair fluttering away from her face in the soft breeze. "Yes, really. I had always wondered what it was like to fly, and now I know, thanks to you."
Argenta nuzzled Armelle's side with her snout gently, lovingly. Thank you. I needed your reassurance.
Eragon slipped into the woods, his dragon following. Its height had grown so its shoulder rested level with Eragon's hip, and Eragon was anxious for their first flight, as Armelle had been for hers and Argenta's.
"Armelle!" Eragon called happily. "I'm finally here." He rambled on about his day until he noticed her bloody legs. "What happened?!"
Argenta laid her long head and neck flat on the ground, not looking at the two Riders.
"I flew on Argenta for the first time." Armelle replied, giving her dragon more reassurances. "Her scales chafed my thighs. I'm fine though."
"How are you going to get home?" Eragon asked, frowning as his dragon nudged Argenta and toyed with her, hoping to make her feel better.
The silver dragon hardly reacted, still upset she had hurt Armelle so much.
"I might have to wait until nightfall, and have Argenta carry me to Brom's home." She answered Eragon after a moment, unable to cheer up her dragon.
Eragon sighed and looked to his sapphire blue dragon, who still tried to cheer up Argenta.
His dragon was now a fortnight old, and Eragon had decided to let her roam free to hunt and fly. His dragon tended to stay close to Argenta, idolizing the older dragon. Like Argenta's and Armelle's, Eragon's connection with his dragon grew stronger daily, and he hoped to discover the dragon's gender as it did. Each communicated with images and emotions, though it was an imprecise method and Eragon was often misunderstood, much to Armelle's entertainment. His connection with it was growing, to the point they could reach each other from leagues away, but it still paled in comparison to Armelle and Argenta's. Like Argenta had, his dragon's squeaks became roars, and its soft humming became a low rumble as she aged, but neither of them could breathe fire yet. Both blew smoke, but never shot a flame.
Eragon and Armelle chatted and sat with each other until nightfall, as Eragon was uncomfortable with leaving her in the Spine, though she wasn't alone.
Argenta had cheered up, playing with Eragon's younger dragon before he left to go home past sundown.
Argenta knelt beside her Rider, letting her climb on, though each movement coursed pain through her chafed thighs.
The silver dragon flew smoothly to Brom's house, landing beside the back door.
Armelle slid off, the scabs on her thighs bleeding again as her knees buckled with pain and she fell into the snow, staining it with scarlet.
Argenta nudged her shoulder with her snout gently, in apology. The half-elf smiled and ran her callused fingers across her silver scales. The dragon then growled and scraped the door with her scaly snout, trying to get the attention of the people inside. When shuffling was heard from in the house, Argenta leaped into the air and flew high, gone from sight by the time the door opened.
I'll see you soon, little one, she said, her scales shimmering like a forming constellation in the moonlight.
Armelle smiled, pushing herself to her feet and shoving snow around to conceal the prints Argenta had left along with mixing the bloody snow to make it fade, though more dripped as she mixed it, turning the snow pink, then to blooming crimson.
The door opened and her father stood there. His hazel eyes widened, bright with worry. "Armelle," he whispered, stepping toward her quickly. "What did you do?!"
"I rode Argenta." Armelle replied with a grunt, pain throbbing through her veins.
Her father bent down and lifted her in a bridal style to carry her inside.
"Brom," her father called through the house. "Armelle has returned."
Brom appeared from another room, watching with a raised eyebrow. He noticed her bloody pants and immediately started to boil water so the wounds could be cleaned.
Her father cut around the bloody sections of her pants with a hunting knife Armelle had never seen, but it looked much like the one she carried on her belt. He was skilled with it, never touching her skin or flesh with the blade as he removed all of the ruined cloth.
"Armelle," her father chided, shaking his head. "Don't fly with Argenta again until your legs are healed. You've made quite a mess this time."
Brom brought out sterile bandages and a wet cloth to clean the blood away with.
"What happened?" The old man asked gruffly.
"I rode Argenta," Armelle replied simply, gasping in pain as the cloth, still warm from boiling to clean it, touched her skinless thigh.
Brom grunted, looking at her father. "I shall go to the tanner tomorrow. If the girl wants to ride, she needs a proper saddle."
Her father nodded.
"A saddle?" Armelle asked. "For a dragon?"
Both men ignored her, which frustrated her deeply, as they continued their conversation.
"We do not have the time to build a molded one," Brom commented. "I will buy the materials and construct another tomorrow, but she still cannot ride until her legs have healed."
Her father agreed.
Once her wounds were cleaned, her father sent her to the guest room, giving her no choice in the matter.
The next day, Brom kept his word. He went to the tanner and bought enough leather to make a saddle. He sent Armelle out to measure Argenta's chest, the base of her neck, and her middle. When Armelle got back, she gave the measurements and Brom built the saddle.
She took it back to the Spine, showing it to Argenta, and left it in the tree she stayed beside, waiting for the day she could ride again.
By the end of the month, Argenta had grown so her shoulder was level with Armelle's head, and Eragon's dragon's shoulder was even with his elbow.
Eragon, she heard an unfamiliar voice start one day while she was in the Spine with Argenta. The person being spoken of was leaving to go back home when it started.
It was his dragon.