Chapter 9: Dinner and a Show

Eragon and Saphira walked into the dinning hall with Roran leading the way. Roran quickly pushed the double doors aside and grinned at the slew of elves and at the dwarf Orik.

"May I present to you," he said, still grinning. "Argetlam!" The elves quickly stood to their feet and applauded during his entrance, but the clapping silenced when Saphira walked in beside him.

"Who is this?" Nasuada asked, as she motioned for everyone to take their seats. Eragon smiled and turned to face Saphira.

"She," Eragon started, "is Saphira Brightscales." Silence fell in the hall. Not one sound could be heard from the halls as the crowd stared dumbfounded at the former dragon.

"How did this happen?" Nasuada stepped up and asked. Eragon pulled a chair back for Saphira to take a seat.

"Thank you," she said politely, clasping her hands together on the table. Eragon nodded and took his seat next to her.

"It is a difficult matter to discuss," he said to Nasuada. "This was a gift…?"

"From whom?"

"Angela," Eragon replied. The crowd began to come back to life with the mention of the witch, but Nasuada silenced them once again. "She had…transformed us to where we could take on each other's shape."

"Rather strange," Nasuada muttered, taking a sip from her goblet. "Tell me, how does this work?"

"We have barely been able to understand it ourselves," Eragon explained. He turned to face Saphira. "You see, she designed some sort of potion to alter our spirits and change our outside appearance…?"

"Can you change into anything?" Orik demanded loudly. Eragon merely shook his head.

"Nay," he sighed. "I can only shift into dragon form, and Saphira can only change into human form." Saphira lifted up a cup that had some mead in it and took a hearty drink.

"Saphira," Eragon whispered kindly. "Small sips. We are in the presence of royalty here and you are not in dragon form anymore. The amount you can drink in human form is far less than in your previous one."

"Forgive me," she replied, setting her cup back down on the table. Eragon smiled at her and placed his hand over hers before snapping it away. Nasuada clapped her hands into the air to signal that the feast was ready to begin. For the last time, the crowd erupted into different conversations, but Nasuada was not finished.

"Can this mean that dragons may not go extinct after all?" Nasuada asked. Eragon blushed slightly.

"Only the future will tell that answer," Saphira covered for him. "It depends, my lady."

"You must show us how this works!" some elves shouted, obviously intrigued by this new spell.

They need to know somehow, Saphira clicked into his mind. Eragon groaned and stepped out from his chair.

"Very well," he muttered. "Honia!" The elves watched as Eragon placed all four feet to the ground and began mutating in front of their very eyes.

Well? Eragon asked Saphira, who relayed it to the crowd.

"OUTSTANDING!" everyone cheered, jumping to they're feet and applauding vigorously. "Where is Angela? She should explain herself." Nasuada raised her hands into the air to silence the crowd.

"This is a remarkable sight," Nasuada said with a bright smile. "We must know where you found her."

"In the forest near the stream," Saphira replied. "She actually found us."

"You know where she is now?"

"Nay," Saphira said. Nasuada shook her head and turned her attention to the chefs that were bringing out the meals.

Eragon let out a plume of black smoke and stood on his hind legs to signal that he was ready to eat.

"This is quite an astounding sight," Orik said with his mouth agape. "Our rider and dragon…have become dragon and rider? Nonsense!"

"I agree with Orik on this topic," Nasuada said grimly. "You are a fine dragon, Eragon, but you are needed more in human form." Eragon hissed and quickly stomped down on his forearms.

Now they've done it, Saphira said with a soft chuckle. She felt Eragon's anger rise, but she did not want to get involved particularly because she knew that Eragon had the right to be upset.

What?! He exclaimed in her mind. The war is over and you still claim that I am needed as a dragon rider? Why can I not be able to enjoy myself? Besides, what do you need us for anymore anyways? Galbatorix is defeated and the land is peaceful again. Also have you noticed that Saphira is the only actual dragon? If you want…? He stopped and lowered his head when he caught a shocked glance from Nasuada. I apologize for my rudeness.

"It is quite all right," Nasuada muttered, nodding her head. "I believe that I deserved that. You are right. The war is over and you two deserve to be together like this. I should be apologizing…not you."

Thank you, Eragon relayed to her. He turned to face Saphira and stuck out his snout for her to scratch it.

"It is strange," Saphira whispered to him as he took his seat. "I can still hear and sense your emotions and thoughts, even though we are different. Do you find that awkward?"

A little bit, yes, Eragon replied. Saphira took her hand off of his snout and chuckled.

What were you going to say before you stopped? She asked him. Eragon ignored her question and slowly lowered his head down into a plate of Quince Pie. Well? Saphira nudged his mind harder.

I was going to tell her something I shouldn't have, Eragon replied. Saphira shot him a faint grin.

What was that? She dug deeper. I heard you say that I was the last dragon, so it could not have been so bad.

It was nothing.

Say it in the ancient language, she said, still grinning. Eragon looked up from his meal and turned to face Nasuada.

I need clothes, Eragon told her. The spell works, but, as you saw, my tunic was destroyed in the process. I am sure that you do not wish for me to dine in the nude, do you?

"I am sure Saphira would not mind," Roran snapped out comically, but Orik reached over the table to slap him across the shoulder. "Ow! Don't hit me, midget!"

"Why you!" Orik threatened. Nasuada quickly stepped in before the argument escalated.

"Roran," she commanded. "Fetch your cousin a fresh tunic." In moments, Roran returned with a navy blue robe in his hands.

I recommend that everyone looks away while I change, Eragon advised. He picked up the robe with his forearm and dropped it beside him, He quickly uttered the spell and tossed his arms into the tunic before anyone had the chance to see.

"I did not wish for my cousin to get jealous of my beauty," Eragon joked, regarding the comment that he told earlier. "Now, may we finish this feast?"

You will have to tell me sooner or later, she cooed, mockingly. Eragon smiled and continued eating. He turned to see that Saphira was struggling to operate her eating utensils. Try as she might, she could not get the food to stick on the tips of the fork, causing Eragon to let out a hearty chuckle.

"Having difficulty?" he said in between laughs. Saphira gently placed the fork down on the table and clasped her hands together again.

"I would prefer eating with claws instead of this retched thing!" she whined.

"I'll teach you," Eragon said, scooting in closer to her. "Now, what hand would you say you use the most?"

"In battle, I use my right forearm most of the time."

"Very well," Eragon said with a smile. "You are right handed. Grab the fork with your right hand and position like this…?" Eragon grabbed his fork and showed her a brief demonstration involving scooping up the food, stabbing it, and rearranging it.

"I still prefer just to pick it up and eat it!" Saphira said, smiling up at him. "Thank you for showing me."

"You taught me how to fly so this would be a fair trade, yes?" Eragon finished his meal quickly and asked to be excused from the table. Saphira followed close behind as he left.

"Why in such a hurry?" Saphira asked. Eragon turned upward to look at the starry night sky.

"They do not approve of this," Eragon spat. "I could feel their anger…hatred…and jealousy of us even though they covered it well with their speeches."

"Well what do you suppose we do about it?" Saphira asked, stepping in front of him to bring his gaze down to her.

"We leave."

"But where?" Saphira asked. "This has been our home for quite some time. Are you sure you wish to go through with this?"

"We do not owe ourselves to them any longer," Eragon replied curtly. "The war is over, and Nasuada will be taking Galbatorix's place on the throne. Peace is restored to them…but not us. Not yet."

"What do you suppose we do?" Saphira asked. "This is a guaranteed place to rest. If we are to go anywhere else, will we find the same comfort?"

"I am sure that it would be easier to find a place to stay with Galbatorix out of the way," Eragon commented. "Besides, perhaps we could nestle down together like old times." He sighed. "It is time for the rider and dragon to find peace and relaxation."

"I couldn't agree more with you," Sapira replied smiling. "Honestly, should we even focus our new lives by their judgements?"

"True," Eragon muttered. "I just feel that they see you differently and may not give you the respect you deserve. Jealousy and hatred can do that."

"I am aware," she said. "I will always back your decision, love." Eragon chuckled at her.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing," he said, fighting back a smile.

"Liar!" Saphira exclaimed.

"We must go," Eragon said, changing the subject. "We will leave early tomorrow. There is a whole world out there and we are going to see it. No politics, no Varden, no cares!"

Suddenly, a loud familiar voice boomed inside both of their head. It sounded as if it were in terrible agony, and was struggling to keep in contact with him.

"Oromis!" Eragon shouted out loud. He turned to Saphira, who was shaking her head grimly.

"This is not good."

PEACE!