Chapter 11:
The wind sped through his hair and he let his arms spread outwards, as if he had his own wings. He felt her arms tighten around his stomach in surprise, maybe even fear.
'I am holding on with my legs,' he said as he tried to loosen her constricting hold, he was sure if slightly more pressure was added his rib would break, but he didn't voice his concern.
'You're crazy.' She replied, but she let her arms relax and her hands move up so she held the sides of his chest, she looked down at the speeding land below them.
'It is easy, look.' He gripped her hands and slowly lifted them outwards, he slowly let them go, and putting a hand on each knee he pushed them inwards, willing her to tighten her hold. He could hear an intake of breath, and then a reluctant laugh.
'Whoa' she finally said, and her hands whipped back to his sides as Saphira angled downwards, leveling into a steep dive. They were making one detour on the way to Nasuada's tent, it was urgent, they needed to talk. Not to each other, but Glaedr, because a certain elf, or Arya, had noticed a change in their connection, and in his mind, she had luckily cut it off.
-----
He was frustrated; pointed-ears-Arya had cut him off. He, a dragon, had been cut off. He could have trembled in anger, but he was stuck in his stone- ice-cold-eldunari. He felt two presences enter his mind, and he let them in, their torrent of emotions blanketed his thinking, and made him come to his senses, and the first thing that hit him was shame, guilt, and then sadness. He ignored the consoling words, and when he felt the minds retract, he blanketed himself in his own sorrow.
-----
Where he stood, he stood alone. The elves were far behind him, and the council before him stared at him with intensity that made Eragon wince, twice, Saphira counted. His head lifted, and his eyes stayed cold, unemotional, even uncaring. He was asked to give a full account of what had happened, he did, mostly. Nearly all the members had a few questions that seemed pathetic, almost childish, it was as if they were trying to sound intelligent, they were failing miserably, until a women asked suspiciously,
'Is that a berry chunk on your armour?' his head whipped up, and he felt Arya on the outskirts of his mind, willing to give him a good excuse. He let her voice in quickly and she said,
Say it is a chunk of flesh. Dragon flesh. That is why it is red. He laughed in his mind as she withdrew, and he replied,
'No ma'am, it is flesh,' he picked it off his armour and pretended to examine it.
'And it looks like a dragon's flesh at that.' He nodded in utter confidence, and the woman look reassured. More questions followed for about an hour, or until Nasuada dismissed them. He sighed and took a chair, letting himself relax.
'You can give me a full account tomorrow night' she said, amusement in her voice.
'Thank you, I really need to sleep.' He replied in gratitude, she smiled as he bowed and turned on his heel to leave.
'Oh, and Eragon? Luckily they were not paying attention, because your sword is clean' he laughed at this, shaking his head.
'Again, thank you. I will remember that next time.' he turned once more, and letting his arm sweep open the tent flap, he strode into the night air, coming face to face with Arya.