I hope you all enjoyed the last update as much as I enjoyed writing it. I absolutely love Eragon and Arya as a pairing, and absolutely loathe the way Paolini ended book 4. I'm willing to bet that most people agree with me that not doing anything more with Arya and Eragon is a crime against humanity. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter, as I am taking time away from my homework to get it to you as fast as I can.
A few moments later and they both climbed up onto Saphira's Saddle and strapped themselves in. Arya's thighs clenched firmly around Eragon's hips, and her slender arms wrapped around his waist, much to his pleasure. He would definitely have a hard time keeping his mind away from thoughts of Arya today. Such was his final thought before Saphira launched herself into the air and towards Gil'ead.
Little could be heard over the howling of the wind as Saphira glided effortlessly in her most comfortable environment. The sky was painted like a forest at the height of fall. Shades of yellow, orange, and red blended together in a way that artists could only hope to imitate. Two figures sat upon the mighty dragon's back, their bodies pressed together as if for warmth. The cold wind that swept past them was chilling to say the least.
Breaking the silence, Eragon opened his mind fully to Saphira and spoke to her through their bond. The night is rapidly approaching, Saphira. We should find a place to make camp soon.
A deep vibration could be felt from Saphira's side as she rumbled her agreement. Her massive head swayed from side to side slowly, as if she was looking for a place to land. I believe I see a small clearing not too far off in the distance. It would be a sufficient place to spend the night. With that, Saphira banked slightly to the side, before abruptly rolling over, tucking her wings tightly to the sides of her body. Though the action surprised Eragon, a true smile spread brightly across his face. Strong legs and arms tightened their hold on Eragon's body, and he realized that Arya was much less experienced with the random aerial tricks that Saphira loved to perform.
Saphira! Careful, Arya is not used to flying like we are. He cautioned.
Saphira huffed loudly, before leveling out and angling her body towards the just big enough clearing. It had the desired effect, said Saphira as she looked back at the two on her back with one large sapphire eye. She then sent him her view of Eragon and Arya on her back. Arya was clinging tightly to Eragon's body, so close that it was in no way appropriate for anyone short of lovers to be.
Don't tell me you are not pleased with this outcome, Eragon. Came Saphira's teasing voice. A deep rumbling laughter came from the belly of the decending dragon, the vibrations carrying up Eragon's legs.
Blushing to his roots, and staring straight ahead as Arya slowly relaxed her hold and slid backwards in the saddle once more. He would not give Saphira the satisfaction of an answer. Not that she needed one to begin with.
Reaching out with his mind he gently probed the iron wall that surrounded Arya's mind. After a few brief moments of hesitation, Arya lowered her barriers slightly to allow him to speak.
I apologize for Saphira's behavior, I don't believe she remembered that you were not quite as used to flying. His mental voice was strong, steady, and much more controlled than his voice would have been.
It is fine, Eragon. I was just not expecting such an action. That is the second time today that I have been surprised… She trailed off, and he could have sworn she would have said more, had it not been for Saphira alighting softly on the grassy ground of the clearing she had spotted earlier.
Wasting no time, Eragon unstrapped his legs and pulled leapt off of saphira's mighty form only to land in a crouched position, bent at the knees to absorb the impact. By then Arya too had managed to unstrap herself and slide off of Saphira's saddle, and landed behind Eragon. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at her as she landed his eyes drinking in the visage she presented. He had a side view of her form, crouched low and knees bent. The tight leather that was her usual outfit seemed almost stretched in the pose. Her form certainly filled out the outfit well. Such were Eragon's sinful thoughts as his eyes traced a path from her feet to her emerald eyes. Only when he reached her eyes did he realize she was staring at him intently. It seemed as if her mask of indifference had been lowered for a brief moment as he stared at her, and he swore he saw something in those beautiful emerald orbs. She must have realized he noticed and her mask slipped into place once more, her expression becoming void of emotion. She coughed lightly, as if clearing her throat.
"We should make camp." She stated simply before turning back towards saphira's saddle to grab her bedroll.
Shaking his head, he pushed as many thoughts of Arya from his head as he could manage, and focused on making camp for the certainly cold night that was rapidly approaching. Having hunted the previous night, Saphira had no need of any food, and so she settled onto the ground, curled into a semi-circle around the camp site that the two warriors had created.
Eventually, Eragon and Arya found themselves sitting across from each other, finishing off their meal for the night. Arya had finished her meal first and, finding nothing better to do, she subtly shifted her gaze across the dancing flames that made up the fire to where the young dragon rider was finishing his meal. He was leaning up against Saphira's soft belly, and was only wearing a snug fitting cotton shirt which sleeves ended a few inches above the elbow. The she-elf could easily make out the well-defined muscles of his arms in the fire light. Without realizing it, her mask of indifference had slipped away slightly, and she was staring in open wonderment. As open as an elf could be any way. Eragon had failed to notice Arya's nearly lustful gaze; that did not, however, mean that Saphira had failed where Eragon had. She was staring at Arya with a draconic smirk adorning her large features.
Subtly reaching out with a tendril of thought, Saphira entered Arya's mind without her noticing, and could clearly see what was on the elf's mind. Eragon's arms are quite muscular, are they not?, came Saphira's gentle query.
Saphira would hear a mumbled agreement from within Arya's mind, before Arya would realize what had happened. She blushed deeply, her skin doing a very close impression of a tomato. Hastily, Arya pushed Saphira from her mind, causing the sapphire dragoness to chuckle quietly. The deep rumbling sound caught Eragon's attention, and he looked up at her questioningly.
"What is so funny, Saphira?" Came Eragon's innocent question, which only served to make Saphira laugh a little harder, and Arya to blush deeper.
Eragon looked to Arya once again, his face the epitome of confusion as Saphira had blocked him from her mind. "Do you know wh-" He trailed off as his eyes beheld Arya. Her face and neck were completely flushed and red. "Arya, are you alright? You have a rash." His concern for her wellbeing was evident as his expression went from confused to worried.
Arya's blush only deepened if that were possible. "Eragon." She said tersely, before continuing, "I am fine. It is not a rash… It is a blush." She turned her head away, scowling slightly.
Before Eragon could respond, Saphira's laughter gained another level in loudness. The dragon was having a difficult time breathing and her sides were convulsing erratically. The ground vibrated as she laughed.
Arya huffed, crossing her arms in an almost childish display, before calming herself and studying Eragon for a long moment. "It has been a long while since we last sparred, Shadeslayer." She stated.
The confusion and concern lifted from his features, replaced with and expression of excitement. "That it has, Shadeslayer." He teased. It had become a running joke between the two of them. He stood up, stepping away from the camp fire and into the grassy area beside the campsite. "Shall we?" He questioned.
Arya's eyebrows met as she rose to the challenge, and strode past him out into the clearing, giving Eragon time to appreciate her from behind. She moved with much more grace than the other elves, thought Eragon. He also thought that her tight fitting leather leggings defined certain aspects of her lower body better than others.
Reaching a distance she deemed sufficient, she spun on her heel drawing her sword in the same motion. She dulled the blade with magic before taking an aggressive stance, waiting for Eragon to take a stance of his own.
Shaking off the blush that had been creeping up his neck as he stared at Arya's pleasing form, he grinned, drawing Brisingr and dulling the sapphire blade's edge with magic. "It has indeed been long since we last sparred, Dröttningu." He said, standing in a relaxed position, his gleaming blade pointed towards the ground, held loosely in his right hand. He knew his flippant stance would irritate her, and that she would exploit every weakness he had in this spar.
Arya's eyebrows met dangerously as she shot forward suddenly, dirt flying up from where she had launched from. Eragon's eyes locked with hers for a moment as she flew towards him, her blade arcing through the air. At the last moment Eragon's blade met hers in an explosion of sparks. Eragon had shifted his left foot backwards and was his footing to hold himself in position. The force behind Arya's blow as nothing to scoff at, and the impact jarred his entire right side, the vibrations traveling from his sword up to his teeth. If he hadn't already of been biting down, he might have bit his tongue.
By now Saphiras laughter had long since subsided and she watched the two with keen interest as they engaged in the deadly dance of the blade. Saphira may have preferred claw and tooth over the pointed pieces of metal the two-legs swung at each other, but even she had to appreciate the grace and precision with which Arya and Eragon fought.
Arya frowned as he blocked her blade with his own, she had hardly seen him move. It truly had been a long time since they had fought each other. He had improved greatly. She disengaged from their power struggle and lashed out quickly and powerfully at him, searching for an opening in his defense. She found many, but each time she went to punish his mistake, the hole vanished as if it wasn't even there. Her frustration grew with each unsuccessful attempt to land a blow on the rider.
He seemed to almost… toying with her. She could not believe how much he had improved during his recent stay in Ellesmera. She came at him with everything she had, a blazing emerald fire alight in her eyes. Sparks and the sound of clanging swords filled the clearing as the two Shadeslayers fought. Their blades were naught but insignificant blurs in the night air. A spectator would only likely see random explosions of sparks. It became a dance, and as they danced Eragon once again found himself admiring the way her body moved. The dance itself had become natural to Eragon, nothing but action and reaction. Adrenaline pumping through both their veins, driving them to speeds they had not previously fought at. Their fight continued, the two shadeslayers ignoring the passing of time.
There! Arya thought as she saw Eragon's guard 'slip' once again. She saw his eyes widen as her sword flew downwards towards his unguarded midsection with deadly speed and accuracy. She was sure she had him here. Eragon desperately, or so she thought, brought his sword up to meet hers. Time seemed to slow down as their blades met, but only for a split second, before Eragon abruptly changed the direction of his momentum with what must have been great effort. He spun to the side, his blade having gained a tremendous amount of momentum as it arced around his body and he spun, coming down towards the back of a surprised Arya's neck. He smiled in victory as Arya's sword sunk into the ground, having not met the resistance she expected. At the same time her sword sunk into the ground, his sword came to rest on her neck steadily. The cold metal sending chills down her spine.
Arya looked to her left, looking at the smiling rider in awe. Their eyes met once again, and both of them stilled completely, scarcely breathing. It would be Eragon who broke the silence after a few tension filled moments. "I see you." He whispered in the ancient language.
It took Arya a long while to articulate a response, before she too whispered, "I see you." in the ancient language.
Eragon slowly pulled his sword away from her neck, holding it loosely at his side as Arya pulled her sword from the ground. It had sunk nearly to the hilt. As they straightened their eye contact broke and Eragon turned back towards the camp fire, suddenly having to fight the powerful urges welling up within him. He desired her. It was a very primal desire, and it took almost all of his control to not step up to her and kiss her right then. He shook his head as he took a few steps towards the campfire. He would not pursue her any further without her consent.
It took only a few steps away from her for Arya's heart to clench in despair. Crippling loss welled up from deep within her soul, threatening to break her. The feelings were so profound and unexpected that she found herself uttering a choked call for him to stop, "Eragon!"
Stopping dead in his tracks, Eragon turned back towards her slightly, looking over his shoulder at her beautiful face. She looked so troubled that Eragon once again had to fight a powerful urge; the urge to run to her and comfort her. Instead of giving in to his urges, he stood there waiting patiently for her to speak.
"Walk with me?" whispered Arya softly. The heartfelt, simple request took Eragon's breathe from his lungs. He smiled softly before nodding. She then turned and vanished off into the woods, her long raven hair trailing behind her. Eragon followed her shortly afterwards. For the life of him, he could deny her nothing.
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I will be working to get the next chapter out to you as soon as possible. Until then, Review please! I would like to hear your thoughts.