Eragon missed the saddle almost as much as the one who had it strapped on her back.
I don't think I deserve all what you do for me. Eragon kept his head down, shielding his face from the besieging water droplets.
Maybe you don't, Saphira said. But I won't refuse aid to a cripple.
You're a dragon.
And you are a human, a fact that does not remove any of your present disabilities.
Eragon frowned, then brought a hand to his face. The rain was getting more intense. Nor does it change your delicate grip, he chuckled silently.
We're not meant to be gripping arrows and fetching swords, Saphira roared loud enough for Eragon to hear. How often do you do that with your mouth?
Never, as long as I have you to help me.
Then you unwillingly would cripple yourself for the rest of your life?
I don't know how long would that be, but my appreciation for your help is more lasting.
Was there a time when you refused it?
There was one time… but I don't dare mentioning it, Eragon teased.
Saphira's growl broke through the rain and the wind, but it was only after she dived when Eragon realized why she did that. Gripping the saddle with both of his hands, Eragon strggled against the sheer force of the descent.
Up,up, please up! Pleads mixed themselves with other thoughts, rampaging through his head like bands of uncontrolled peasants.
Saphira flared her wings to their maximum length. The drifting winds flowed under her wings, stabilizing her position in an instant.
Apologies for that, Eragon, Saphira said. The high currents were getting fiercer than I anticipated.
Although Saphira's calmness and smooth voice alleviated a few of his worries, Eragon remained a bit shaken.
I almost fell, he managed to say.
I would have caught you, Saphira growled with obvious delight, veering in another direction. With his senses out of reliance, Eragon hoped that the various turns Saphira took were leading them in the right direction.
I wish I could sense something other than rain and darkness in this wet obscurity, Eragon noted bitterly.
I am struggling as well, Saphira replied, her body tilting to the right while wings flapped steadily.
Eragon gripped the saddle.
We're lost then?
Most likely. The falling water disperses any scent that does not belong to you.
I feel flattered, Eragon thought half-heartedly.
You shouldn't, Saphira said. Your scent is far below the ones I find appealing.
Care to elaborate on that?
It's complicated, Saphira simply concluded.
We'll leave it at complicated then and focus our efforts on simpler matters. Can you land somewhere?
Saphira answered in the usual draconic way and angled downwards, this time more with more precision and accuracy.
It's good to feel warmth again, Eragon said while he repeatedly stroke the side of Saphira's snout with one hand.
You do take wise decisions, little one.
Not always, obviously, Eragon laughed, then rewarded Saphira's compliment with even more rubs.
Each brush and scratch on the slippery scales brought Saphira great joy.
Enjoying herself at the expense of my fatigue, Eragon thought. The pulsing numbness and the pain in his joints was easily ignored.
After a couple more strokes, Saphira unexpectedly shifted on her side, exposing Eragon to the outside coldness.
"What…" Eragon said out loud. He was slightly stunned by the cold air, but amidst the pouring rain he noticed something.
"She fell asleep…" Eragon whispered. Even if it seemed unfair, he was at fault for rewarding Saphira for her flying services.
Still, something was weird, and Eragon could not help but notice that the puffs in her breath were more frequent.
Crawling towards her headm he petted her neck lovingly and turned around. His eyes widened slightly and blood invaded his body. With her wing raised slightly and a hind leg lifted awkwardly, Saphira's lower belly was more exposed than it ever was.
Barzul, Eragon's thoughts drifted towards the dwarves. It was ironic how he ended up in the same posture as those drunks. Besides, Eragon somehow knew what that position was for.
Driven by a perverse curiosity of the unknown, Eragon advanced towards her tail, which twitched and jolted in rhythm with Saphira's breath rate.
She desires a mate more than I thought, Eragon thought absent mindedly while he faced what the dwarves did a while ago. All the blood in his body flooded his face. His hands—even his whole frame—began shivering uncontrollably. His head pulsed with a strange mix of excitement, fear and awe. Rebellious thoughts filled Eragon's head.
And the fool would not back down.
Extending a shaky hand, Eragon touched the object of his torments. Intense warmth suoounded his fingers and the slippery softness caused them to slide further than intended.
Eragon felt his pounding heart explode out of his chest when a hissing sound reached his ears.
Awake and fully conscious, Saphira began licking what Eragon previously touched. And it happened while he gazed at it.
Eragon felt like dying with shame. When Saphira locked her sapphire eyes on him, even death was beyond reach. Eragon was completely stunned. Useless. Petrified.
Saphira approached with her gigantic snout close to Eragon's chest.
You're unusually alert, little one.
I heard something, something like a screech, Eragon said, struggling to shield his mind as best as he could.
You know I'll protect you, Saphira rubbed his arm lovingly.
I know. Eragon placed a hand on her snout, then quickly hit the bolder one in the grass.
It didn't work.
Showing obvious interest in a particular scent, Saphira pushed her nostrils past his elbow.
Ripping grass and vegetation, Eragon viciously swiped his hand on the ground, staining it with everything he could.
Saphira backed away. Calm yourself.
What?
Saphira used her tail and pulled Eragon closer to her belly, protecting him with a draped wing.
You're unusually and unnecessary nervous, she added.
I'm not.
Your body is trembling.
Because it's cold, Eragon said with ibvious confidence.
There is a difference between physical cold and emotional unbalance.
Eragon was at a loss of words.
Saphira placed her snout on the ground beside his arm. Two legs are weirdly ashamed of how the nature shapes and works.
I can't understand that, Eragon said.
You are the only ones who attribute an exaggerated sense of shame to reproduction and what it involves. You are afraid to be without cloth or hides to cover your body.
Because that's normal. We can't walk exposed like that in crowds.
Only the other two-legs share your view.
Eragon said nothing and huddled near Saphira's belly. He needed extra warmth.
It is my fault, not yours, Saphira continued. My lack of control stirred your curiosity.
Saphira, I was, I mean, I didn't want to do what I did. It just happened.
Saphira growled a long, but otherwise soft growl.
I am supposed to attract males of my own species, Eragon. You know you can not be a possible mate, but the way you touched and scratched my hide was not very different from what a dragon would do.
How do you know that? Eragon asked, slightly curious.
I do not, Saphira replied, flooding their bond with sadness and longing. I did not have the chance to experience it.
But Glaedr….
He was my mentor, Eragon, but not a true dragon. The two legs and the Riders altered him to the very core. Training and advices were what I received, and when I sought affection, he saw fit to attack me.
That was harsh. I thought it was your pestering that determined him to do that. Oromis said so.
It's not far from the truth, Saphira growled mournfully.
Don't lose hope, Saphira. You shall not be alone forever.
Being roused from his dreams irritated Eragon, even if Saphira was the culprit behind the disturbance.
The rain had stopped.
Eragon heard Saphira's loud sniffing better than her thoughts. His mind was still foggy and rather lazy in understanding what was happening.
You said I don't smell good, Eragon said, taking advantage of this distraction to catch some more sleep.
Saphira's growl ruined it. It is not your scent that interests me, Saphira said.
Then continue your search, Eragon added nonchalantly, closing his eyes for the third time. I won't disturb your efforts except if you need me.
Eragon allowed himself to smile as he drifted into unawareness. He knew – and Saphira did as well—that he was completely unreliable for tracking and recognizing scents. With that in mind, Eragon could sleep and relax until…
We should fly, little one.
Eragon groaned. He expected that suggestion after a couple of hours, but not only a couple of seconds later.
Why? He whined.
It is difficult discerning other scents other than my own.
Eragon chuckled. Nothing usual there.
Dragons, he thought, always placing themselves above others.
You are unfortunately right, Eragon, Saphira growled softly, rubbing her nose against her paw. The scent of a dragon peaks during times fit for reproduction.
The thoughts Eragon tried so hard in purging from his mind returned, bringing the shame of his actions alongside them.
Yes, I knew that, Eragon quickly said. You have seasons, like animals.
Saphira looked at him. You are not wrong, little one, but two legs are different. How did you know?
I'm a very knowledgeable Rider, Eragon laughed, slapping his hand against Saphira's belly.
Then you must know the whole process of mating, Saphira said. Care to explain?
Warmth invaded Eragon's body and his face bloodied in an instand.
I don't—
I was just teasing, little one, Saphira closed in and licked his arm with the tip of her tongue, which lacked the usual barbs.
You're too obvious sometimes.
Eragon tried sleeping in the saddle, but it was too uncomfortable and daunting. The rigid material would not allow for a decent position, and Saphira's uneven flight disorientated even those who trained their minds against such inconveniences.
However, thanks to Saphira's bright disposition, various discussions and argues introduced mirth where there was only riredness and apathy. Good will lasted until the sun was high in the sky.
Coincidentaly, that was also when Saphira and Eragon stumbled upon their old camp. Regaining his vigor once he found himself in Arya's – or Angela's—presence, Eragon related everything he discovered during his nightly adventure, save for the intimate moments he spent with Saphira. The information was regarded in opposing manners by the two females, as well as their suggestions. Arya was concerned and serious while Angela dismissed and contradicted everything, even the details. She obviously did not trust the information of a drunken dwarf to be better than his alcoholic- filled breath.
Eragon bitterly forced himself to be the victim of her annoyance for as much as he could endure. Fortunately, the sacrifice sprouted more than weeds. Overly persistent when silence was required, Angela suggested and interesting and very bold move, which everyone agreed upon.