Chapter 2: Underneath the Willow

Saphira touched down quickly and knelt down so her rider could dismount her without causing himself harm.

"Why did you take me here?" Eragon asked aloud. He looked at his surroundings to notice that they were in the only clearing in the forest. Trees, fallen branches, and tall grass surrounded every other area.

I wish to show you something I found here, Saphira said, nudging Eragon's shoulder. She got to her paws again and tucked her wings in tighter. Will you follow?

Of course, Eragon replied. The sun had risen up to about the ten o'clock position and the forest was echoing with life from the creatures that dwelled in it. Saphira began her trek into the forest, snaking herself around the trees while Eragon followed right beside her with his hand on her side. What is it? He asked. Saphira sniffed and cocked her head as if she was listening to a strange song. Well?

You must see it first, love, Saphira said. Eragon smiled and shook his head. Love? When did she start calling him that?

What happened to 'little one' or 'young one'? Eragon asked. Saphira let out a nervous chuckle.

I feel that you have grown past that name, Eragon, Saphira replied. She knew it was a lie, but she hid it well from her rider. She actually enjoyed calling him those nicknames, but for some very odd reason, she decided to try something new. Soon, they were in front of a clear shallow stream with large white boulders placed around it in a beautiful formation. Trees lined the areas where the rocks were not present.

"This is beautiful," Eragon said out loud in amazement. Across from them and past the stream was a large Weeping Willow, draping its leaves just above the water. It was a gorgeous sight, but Eragon felt a strange feeling about the tree in front of him.

Come, little one, Saphira said gently. Eragon shot her a quizzical look.

What happened to 'love'? he asked. Saphira laughed and flapped her wings smugly against her side.

I thought you wanted me to keep calling you little one? Saphira asked mockingly. Either way, I want you to see this. In the stream were patches of smooth black stones. They were large and just close enough to jump to from to get to the other side of the water. Instead of taking the stones to cross, Saphira took four steps back and ran forward to jump clearly across it. She turned to see Eragon inspecting the black stones before him. He jumped over to the first rock, but it was too slick. Poor Eragon lost traction and slid off of the stone and into the cold water. His head erupted in laughter as he emerged to see Saphira literally on her back growling playfully.

"This is ridiculous!" Eragon growled. The water was only to his waist so he stood to his feet and waded through the water to the other side. Eragon was about to take off his shirt and sling it over a nearby branch, but he had an evil idea. Eragon smirked and sloshed over to his dragon who was laying with her back turned to him. He inched closer, expecting to grab a hold of her and try to soak her as well, but he was too shocked with what he saw. There etched into the bark of the Willow was a heart with "Brom" and "Saphira" placed inside of it. Eragon forgot about his plan and walked up to the engraving. "Brom," Eragon said out loud. He ran his hand over the lines of the carving and then turned to Saphira.

How did you find this? Eragon asked. Saphira shook her head and widened her sapphire eyes.

I stumbled upon it earlier, Saphira explained. What does it mean?

It means, Eragon explained, but he stopped abruptly. Saphira, this is a symbol of love between Brom and his dragon.

Why mark it on a defenseless tree? Saphira asked.

The tree grows with the scar, Eragon explained. This will be here until the Willow is no more. I have seen Roran and Katrina do it in Carvahall when I was younger.

I see, Saphira sighed and lowered her head to her paws. So this is like a sworn oath?

No, Eragon replied kindly. It was now his turn to provide wise information to Saphira and he was ecstatic about being able to do so. You know how dragons have to perform certain…rituals…before they…?

Yes I do, Saphira replied. So this is like a courting ritual?

In a way, Eragon said. He took his hand off of the tree and moved over to Saphira. This tells all who pass that Brom truly loved his dragon with all of his heart. Quite possibly, to the point of considering each other mates.

I understand now, Saphira said flicking her tail back and forth. But how did they…?

They never did anything, Eragon cut her off. You can love someone and not have to mate with them. This time, Eragon sighed. He pulled out a small hunting knife from his pocket and inspected it. He hasn't used it to kill anything after his training with Oromis and he has wondered why he kept it, until now.

Saphira?

Yes? She replied, lifting up her head to meet his eyes.

Do you want to do this? He asked sheepishly, casting his eyes downward and blushing slightly. I want people to know about us…er…our relationships…no…our times together. Saphira stretched her neck and rose to her feet.

I would be honored to have our names engraved, she said respectfully, bowing her head low so Eragon could rub her forehead.

Very well, Eragon said. Let's get started, shall we?

- - - - - - -

"So how do you expect this to work?" Solembum asked. He changed to human form and placed his head up to the cauldron to sniff the fumes rising from the pot. Angela scrubbed the black messy hair of the child and smiled.

"It is simple, Solembum," she replied. "First, they must both drink of this at the exact time; not one second before each other. After that is taken care of, I have a spell I must teach them."

"What is this supposed to do, Angela?" Solembum asked, looking up to her.

"This will make them both very happy." She filled two cups with the strange liquid. "Come Solembum," she said, "we must pay our friends a visit."

"Where are they?"

"I already know."

- - - - - - - - -

"All done!" Eragon exclaimed, pocketing his knife and brushing his hands against one another. Saphira looked over his shoulder to see a heart carved out of the wood with wings sprouting out of it. Inside was Eragon's name and Saphira's exactly below him. Underneath the heart was a sentence written in the ancient language saying: The rider and the beloved dragon of the New Alageasia. He could feel Saphira's sense of satisfaction in his work, but there was another, familiar emotion.

This is beautiful, little one, Saphira said. I wish to do something as well. She brought her neck close to the carving and blew gently on it, encasing the carving with a transparent blue crystal. She cocked her head sideways to inspect her work and then sniffed, satisfied in her accomplishment. Eragon looked at what she did and placed his hand on top of it.

Show off.

PEACE!