It was maybe a month before anything noteworthy happened; Saphira had grown from a small hatchling to a fearsome (albeit small) predator and Vanilor at four and a half months was able to carry Murtagh for short distances and Eragon and Murtagh's friendship had grown. Eragon though despite the tranquillity was unsure as he felt like something bad was around the corner other than Morn kicking Murtagh out of the tavern permanently after the youth had begun another three bar fights each when he was near Brom and completely wasted.

The final of the three had begun when Murtagh ,having engaged in a drinking contest with Roran (the previous champion) and won, headed over to the bar when he had seen Brom who had muttered something under his breath which caused Murtagh to shove him in the chest and then it would have been an understatement to say things had escalated from there. It would suffice to say that afterwards both Murtagh and Brom had been banned permanently and that Morn had had to close the tavern for 3 days for repairs. And Eragon could clearly see that Murtagh was suffering from withdrawal symptoms and out of sympathy stopped visiting the tavern as much. This was a sentiment Roran refused to grasp and instead stared teasing Murtagh about his ban and about every little detail in the tavern to annoy Murtagh as much as he could. Roran was still annoyed from missing the miller and the job he had had free and Eragon was glad he had put of visiting Carvahall for a day as otherwise, well Roran might have taken that job and left. He had seen Roran kissing Katrina multiple times and knew from his drunken lovesick ramblings that he wished to wed her but still he wasn't ready to say goodbye to Roran for what could be months or even years.

As he slipped though the trees he reflected quietly on how his relation with Saphira had evolved. Long since gone where the days when he had viewed her as a pet or just a pet. Every time he talked to her he got to know her that bit better. It still felt like he was swimming in deep water sometimes as there were parts of her behaviour he just couldn't understand and their communication was easier and he was able to reach her even when they were up to 3 miles away. As for Murtagh he was well Murtagh and a big brother figure to Eragon. He already had Roran in the same role but Murtagh was 19 while Roran was 17 and unlike Murtagh had no idea about this new part of his life. Eragon did wonder how Murtagh knew so much but Murtagh would tell him before telling him about a fact about dragons which made him ask a question causing him to forget about his original one. The only answer he had gotten out of Murtagh had been about what Brom had said to him on the night of the first bar fight which was 'your hands are brown' which Eragon wasn't sure how much of it he actually believed given that, though Brom was weird he didn't want to believe that he was that weird and he knew that Murtagh wasn't lying so he presumed he had misunderstood given as he had consumed far to much beer to be wholly rational

Saphira he cried.

Little one she responded joyfully. Saphira only reached the base of his rib cage so calling him little one was not true but Eragon appreciated the thought, and it would be true soon enough. She had become more beautiful and intimidating if that was possible. Her ivory white claws and blue spikes both had a silver sheen to them that shone prettily and her eyes were literally windows to the soul portraying her every passing emotion.

Where's Murtagh? he asked. He needed to ask Murtagh something relatively quickly. Do you like Roran?

I've never met Roran but I think he is nice and Murtagh should be here soon. Saphira said tactfully.

The two lapsed into a silence as they waited for Murtagh and Vanilor. Eragon could see Saphira finishing of the remnants of a stag she had brought down earlier and picking up a fallen branch began to carve out a small figurine shaped like a dragon. Running his calloused thumb over the shape he had just begun to carve out snuck a glimpse at Saphira for any inspiration whatsoever and calling on his memory of both Vanilor and Saphira began to make the dragon take shape. He was just carving out the scales when he glimpsed a flash of red and saw Vanilor land in front of him. Sighing he dropped the figurine before rolling his eyes at Murtagh.

"Am I late?" Murtagh asked as he leapt down. Eragon rolled his eyes; Murtagh was reckless to say the least and enjoyed jumping from high objects to the ground; He also took fashionably late to a whole new level.

"Murtagh what do you think about Roran?" Eragon asked cutting to the chase.

"He's nice, trustworthy and definitely loyal. He would stand be us no matter what," Murtagh said smiling before realising what Eragon had been driving at and his jaw dropped. "You want to tell him." Eragon nodded. "Why?"

"He's my brother," Eragon said simply before training the puppy eyes on Murtagh. "Please."

Murtagh rolled his eyes at Eragon before nodding. "Fine,"

...

Eragon burst though the trees he knew Roran was going to be in Carvahall and didn't expect this to be easy. In his mind he ran through different ideas before discarding all of them. It was tricky working out how to phrase it as you couldn't really just come up to him and say "I stole a dragon egg from Murtagh which than hatched and know I'm a dragon rider and so is Murtagh". He had to ease him into it slowly, if that was even possible. Eragon grimaced as he spotted Roran's mop of brown hair and began to walk slowly over. He hesitated before making the final step and bridging the small gap remaining between them. "Roran can I show you something?" he asked ambiguously.

"Sure," Roran said lightly. "What's it?"

Shoot Eragon thought to Saphira he hadn't prepared an answer to that.

It's a surprise Saphira suggested to him and Eragon had said that to Roran before taking off leaving Roran to trail in the dust and be forced to follow him without any or at least many questions. As Eragon ran he began to panic about Roran's reaction to the dragons and to him finding out that he had gone behind his back and become a dragon rider with Murtagh. Eragon panic worsened as he saw a tree marked by Saphira's clawing and could see Roran's frown grow.

"Eragon, are you sure about this? Is it safe?" Roran asked stopping running.

No, there are just two fire breathing lizards who can fly, wildlife and the natural hazards which you find in woods; Eragon wanted to snap but he restrained himself and instead said evasively, "I think it's safe. Come on."

Before turning around he thought he spotted hooded figure but he shook his head angrily. He was being an idiot and began running again. Soon he had reached the clearing and whistling twice loudly and smiled as he felt mentally Saphira drawing closer. He opened his eyes ,which he hadn't realised were closed and his lips twisted into Roran's expression which was a fusion between awed and terrified. Then Murtagh arrived swooping down on his red mount and it would be an understatement to say things escalated from there. Eragon rolled his eyes, Roran yelled and Murtagh, well Murtagh was Murtagh and smiled insolently at everyone. "Roran, chill, it's just a massive red fire breathing flying lizard. No biggie," Murtagh pointed out sarcastically, or least Eragon thought that must have been sarcastic; then again it was Murtagh.

"It's a bloody dragon!" Roran yelled, causing the few birds who hadn't already flown off to alight.

"And?" Murtagh said smiling broadly, until Eragon thwacked him over the head causing him to let out a muffled "Ouch!"

Eragon smiled at Roran before beckoning him over to stroke Saphira. He was pleased that Roran hadn't run away, but Roran had always been brave. Not reckless like Murtagh was but he had a quiet bravery to him that Eragon admired. "She's my dragon; her name is Saphira," Eragon said. Roran didn't respond instead keeping his eyes down like you would if you approached a horse; he cagily raised one hand up before grimacing as Saphira bending down pushed her snout into his hand. Eragon laughed out loud, "She's not a horse. You can make eye contact." Roran eyes slowly slid up to latch on Saphira's and only then seemed to take in the full size and magnitude of the dragon. He calmed down for a little before he spotted Vanilor behind and then his eyes widened in terror at how much larger this dragon was then Saphira. "That's Vanilor," Eragon introduced. "He's Murtagh's dragon."

"Figures, Murtagh would have the massive bloody red dragon wouldn't he?" Roran grunted asking himself a rhetorical question.

"Yah," Eragon said absentmindedly before turning around. He though he had heard a noise in the brambles but there was nothing. Sighing he turned around back to Murtagh but again he heard the noise. "Murtagh, stop it," he barked. Stepping forward cautiously he crept slow and quiet to the spot from which he heard the noise and looking down from above spotted a balding head beneath him. "Hello," he said mock cordially. The figure stepped back and Eragon even before he revealed himself knew it was Brom. "What are you doing?" he inquired harshly.

"I want to join you," Brom said proudly. "You will need my advise, I know all there's to know about dragon."

"I don't trust you Murtagh said stalking up to Eragon's right shoulder. Vanilor looming threateningly behind him.

Eragon empathised but he somewhat agreed with Brom. He did know a lot about dragons and their riders and that amount of intell could help. Murtagh did know a lot but if Brom's tales where anything to go by he knew more. "Why, do you want to come?"

"Your story," Brom said scratching in throat with one hand. Eragon's eyes narrowed as he saw the other hand fasten on the hilt of what looked like a sword under his cloak.

"He want's to use us," Murtagh counselled "We don't need him."

"No. But I do," Eragon whirled round to see a gorgeous girl in front of him and his words dried up in his throat as he nodded sheepishly. She had black hair like jet that fell to the small of her back and was braided out her face at the front in two identical braids. The dark hair stood out against her ivory-white skin and dainty features. Her eyes drew his and were emerald green and deep and haunting as if she had lived for a thousand years and as he spotted delicate pointed ears he realised she could have as she was an elf. She was clad in soft leather leggings and a smooth beige tunic that only just reached the waist of the leggings. An oversized brown coat went over that and was open the back of it reaching her mid thigh and swirling mysteriously around and a sword hung openly from her belt around her waist.

"Brom, I need you. Faolin has been captured. He is in Gil'ead. We must fly." the elf implored.

"Arya, how did you get here?" Brom asked lost for words.

"I rode Firnen. We must rescue him!" Arya insisted.

"Boys, go back to Carvahall now," Brom commanded.

"They can't I gave my pursuers the slip but they went on they're..."Arya began.

"What have they done?" Roran asked desperately.

"They're burning the village."

And there we have it chapter 8 of Dragon fire. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I am sorry about the wait but it was Easter and I had a French exchange and visited Ireland and just had no time whatsoever but on the plus side this chapter has taken ages to write but it is by far my longest and hopefully they will all be this long but I somewhat doubt that and the action is finally starting. Carvahall is burning what will happen to Katrina, Garrow, Horst, Baldor and Albriech. Share your theories on what will happen to them. By the way I didn't get a part in Narnia which sucks.

Anyway please review and signing off

Morrigan