11. Recovery

When Arya's head kept bobbing forward, Eragon slid down to recline more horizontally against the saddlebags so she would be comfortable. Her cheek then rested just under his collarbone, and Eragon pressed his chin over her head to further secure it from falling. He dozed off, and when next he was aware, the sun was setting behind the peaks.

They had reached the lake around midday. Eragon had already been hungry then, and now his appetite was voracious. Still, he didn't move so Arya would have as much time as she needed to recover. After a time, he felt her eyelashes flutter against his chest as she opened her eyes. Arya immediately attempted to stretch, for her body had been unnaturally still during her trance, and Eragon loosened his hold to allow it.

-:-:-

Arya glanced up at Eragon as he solemnly regarded her.

"Are you improving, my love?" he softly asked.

Arya smiled and placed her hand on his cheek, stroking the scratchy stubble that was slightly longer than it had been that morning. "Yes," she answered. "I like how it sounds when you call me my love. It feels so tender. I want to come up with an endearment for you. Has anyone ever called you my darling?"

Eragon shook his head. "No, Arya. Does it feel natural for you to refer to me like that?"

"I haven't ever used loving endearments before," Arya said, "but I've changed in plenty of other ways recently. I never thought I would admit that I love you, come here, or agree to get married, and yet all of those things changed within only a couple of weeks. I think it's safe to hope that referring to you in a loving way would eventually feel natural. Would you have a problem if I called you darling?"

"Not my darling?" Eragon confirmed in an increasingly teasing tone.

Arya shrugged. "Either."

"Of course not," Eragon said with a gentle laugh. "I would be honored if you called me either." He kissed her nose.

"Thank you for rescuing me earlier," Arya whispered. "I couldn't find a way out of my despair before you reached me. My savior once again."

"We'll find a way to have a family," Eragon fervently promised. "We have achieved the impossible before."

"I believe you," Arya responded with equal fervor. "Now I need to eat, as I'm sure you do. I was hungry before, and my hunger is now threatening to consume me from within."

-:-:-

Eragon slid her off his lap and scooted up, turning so he could retrieve the victuals he had brought with him from the city. It wasn't a large selection, but at least there was bread, cheese, nuts, and some hardboiled eggs—food that had some hope of sating his appetite for the moment—along with the fruits and vegetables.

Eragon spread it out and indicated that Arya begin first. He knew he could easily devour all of the food and wanted to be sure she ate her fill before removing her opportunity. In the meantime, he reached for his water skin and took a long drink. His thirst was as great as his hunger, which was most likely due to the long time spent crying.

"I have some food too, Eragon," Arya insisted. "Please eat with me. I know you must be famished."

He obliged, and they ate in silence while gazing out over the lake. When they had finished, Arya said, "It's so beautiful here."

"Aye. It's the most beautiful place on the island," Eragon agreed. "That's why I named it after you."

Arya smiled at him. "I love you, darling," she softly said, testing out her endearment for the first time.

Eragon pursed his lips, surprised the loving words actually sounded natural coming from Arya.

"What?" Arya wondered.

"Hearing you say that is music to my ears," Eragon assured her. "But it's still hard for me to believe. I tried to convince myself that you would never love me in an attempt to lessen my longing for you."

"I'll do whatever it takes to prove my sincerity," Arya vowed. "I can't believe how blind I always was. I never allowed myself to see beyond your young age to your potential and what you were becoming right before my eyes. I think that by the end—right before you left—I began to give myself permission to believe that I might one day be able to return your affection, but it was too late."

"I remember that all too well," Eragon said. "It gave me hope for the first time but also deep pain, since I knew the time you needed was no longer available to us. Leaving Alagaёsia was the hardest thing I have ever done. It felt like I was abandoning any chance of having a life with you or of you coming to regard me in the same way."

"It seems that in our separation I had the time I needed to find my love for you," Arya mused. "Perhaps there was no other way save in being apart."

"If that is true," Eragon said, "then it was time well spent, despite how difficult it was."

The sky was darkening. Though still several hours before night, the peaks hid the setting sun from their view, which brought the illusion of premature twilight. But the air was still warm.

"Would you like to swim?" Eragon asked. "The water is very pleasant in the summer."

"I would enjoy that," Arya replied. "Perhaps it would relieve some of the tension lingering from the drama of this morning." She arose and began unbuttoning her fitted coat.

Eragon, who also stood, politely averted his face. As he still wore just the pants he had swum in the previous day, he didn't need to undress.

"Do not fear, Eragon. I will only remove my outermost clothing," Arya reassured, and Eragon turned to face her. "I'll still be clothed enough to be modest." She set down her coat and slid out of her top leggings. "I always wore many layers in an effort to ward off the constant chill, but it didn't really help." She also had to remove another thick, long-sleeved shirt before reaching the light top she intended to swim in. Its sleeves reached her elbows.

"I didn't fear you undressing, Arya," Eragon muttered. "Only that you would find my eager anticipation of it ungentlemanly."

Arya's musical laughter filled the air. "If there is one thing I will never question, Eragon, it's your gentlemanliness." The impish tone in her voice was his only warning before she lunged forward, assailing him with another passionate kiss in her second test of his self-control.

Eragon endured the attack with grudging enjoyment, for Arya was right—this kind of a test was definitely far from unpleasant. And test him she most certainly did. The curves of her body were more pronounced under her light clothing, her hands searching and soft. She remained pressed against him for so long that his head began to swim.

Eragon had to clench his hands into fists against her back to keep them from mirroring her actions, and then he had to fight to ignore that he could feel the skin at her waist, which was exposed with her arms raised. He remained stiffly upright, hoping his rigid posture would encourage her to soon end the onslaught. Since Eragon was so focused on controlling his hands, there wasn't much he could do about the rest of his body, which became increasingly aroused by the moment.

When he felt sure it would never end, Arya finally pulled away and rested breathlessly against his chest, thereby inadvertently prolonging her test as her chest rose and fell against him in an unbearably tantalizing sensation. Eragon didn't trust himself with that temptation, so he stepped back, praying she wouldn't notice the full extent of his arousal. He held her at bay with his hands on her shoulders, grateful they were covered by the fabric of her shirt.

"You can be cruel, you know," Eragon said, breathing deeply as he fought to subdue the hunger burning inside of him.

"You did well in your test," Arya commended, attempting a light tone and not quite succeeding. Her voice was thick with passion, and Eragon could also see it in her eyes. "But I'm not so sure about myself."

Then she broke completely away, turning and crossing her arms over her chest. "Eragon, how did you ever do it? I have only known that I love you for a matter of weeks and already this longing inside of me is so powerful, I'm not sure I can contain it. In fact, I'm sure I don't want to contain it. I need you, I want you, with my whole body and soul."

Eragon was glad Arya had stepped away. This confession from her was nearly enough to cause him to forsake his firm resolve to wait for marriage. If he had been touching her, he might have given in.

"I don't know how I did," he answered. "Surely you not being here had something to do with it. I couldn't very well satisfy my longing without the presence of the object of my longing. Perhaps though, my self-control is more than you give me credit for, is not in need of further testing. We may find the refreshing water of the lake sufficient to cool our passion before we do something we regret." And with that, Eragon strode past her and into the water, wading out until he was beyond the reach of the shore.