Wyrda
Ch. 15
(Ellesmera)
It had been two months since the wedding and things quickly went back into their regular training with Oromis. Eragon and Phoenix were now evenly matched in their fighting and magical skills. The nightmares Phoenix had been experiencing before had not gone away however.
*(Gil'ead)*
Phoenix walked slowly up the steps; she could see Thorn guarding the doorway.
When she reached the dragon she told him weakly, "I need to speak with Murtagh. No tricks."
The dragon let her pass. She pushed open the large doors with all of her might. Phoenix made her way through the large castle. It was dark, no fires were lit. All except for one. She could see the light from the fireplace through the gap at the bottom of the door.
Phoenix opened it cautiously. She found Murtagh sitting in front of the fire, gazing into it.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked, not turning to her.
"For what?" she asked, stepping forward. "I have no intention of killing you, if that's what you're thinking?"
"What are you doing here then?"
"I'm here on official business for the Varden," Phoenix told him. "As much as I would like you dead for the pain you have caused me, I need you alive."
Murtagh looked up at her. He looked tired, his eyes were puffy and red.
"The Varden need your help to rebuild Alagaësia," she went on.
*****
A fire was lit in the fireplace and there were candles lit all around the room. There was a golden glow around the room. Two people were on the bed; one lying on top of the other. The man was Murtagh; the woman was Phoenix. He was kissing her passionately. The only material covering the two was the blanket.
(Ellesméra)
Phoenix woke with a start. She looked around at her surroundings. It was still night. Eragon lay next to her, his arm outstretched across her stomach. She rubbed her eyes, desperately trying to erase the image from the last flash of vision. It left her feeling dirty.
She turned in her place, facing Eragon. Phoenix wrapped her arms around him pulling herself even closer, touching his bare chest with her cheek.
*****
When Phoenix woke up the next morning, she found Eragon was already awake. He has just shaved and was slipping on his shirt over his head.
"You're up early," she observed.
"Not really," he shrugged. "You just woke up a little late."
Phoenix sat up. The moment she did, she felt an enormous wave of nausea in her stomach. She closed her eyes and held her stomach and waited for it to pass.
"You feeling okay, Honey?" Eragon asked, as he watched his wife sway in her place.
For her answer she quickly threw off her covers and dashed to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Eragon continued to get ready for that mornings training with Oromis, still listening in on Phoenix every so often. He had just placed his belt and sword on when she emerged.
"I don't think I'll be going, this time," Phoenix told him.
"This is the third time this week you've been sick like this," Eragon reminded her.
She crawled back into bed. Saphira and Aiedail landed at the window. Eragon leaned down and kissed his wife gently on the cheek.
"I'll come in and check on you when I can," he told her softly.
Phoenix leaned further back in bed and got comfortable as she watched Eragon, riding Saphira and Aiedail fly away.
To be continued . . .