A/N: You will notice two symbols like this -:- in this chapter. They simply indicate the beginning and end of the section I removed that contained Mature Adult details (where the symbol appears twice in a row -:-:-, I am indicating a viewpoint shift from one character to the other). If you want to read that, I have posted it here: autumn6435 . livejournal . com. You will need to remove the spaces so you have a real URL. It's organized like a blog with entries under one another, and as this is the first of such scenes, it's the very first entry, entitled Part 1, Chapter 23. Union (original sex scene), so scroll down until you find that. There's no need to read that if such things don't interest you. The revised chapter flows without it.

23. Union (revised)

"Let's run somewhere," Eragon said, smiling at Arya. "Away from here." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully and knew she understood him.

Arya nodded, returning his smile with one so radiant, Eragon felt sure the sun would seem dim in comparison once they got outside. He brushed her face with his fingers, trailing them over her lips in an effort to absorb her joy and intensify his own. Then he shouldered the pack, reached for her hand, and reluctantly took his eyes off of her face.

Turning to their guests, Eragon said over the conversation, "Thank you, everyone. Your support and love mean more to us than we can express. Thank you for this joyful celebration. Now if you'll excuse us, we're leaving for a time. Don't try to find us." He winked, which earned him several catcalls and knowing laughs. "We will return when we're ready."

Eragon turned back to Arya. Ready?

Yes! Arya nodded firmly, moving toward the exit.

As they reached the courtyard beyond the entrance to the hall, Eragon increased his pace. But Arya tugged on his hand to stop him. "Wait," she murmured, swiftly unlacing the bodice of her gown.

"I thought we would wait for that part until we're alone," Eragon said with a grin.

"I'll be clothed enough," Arya rejoined with an impatient flip of her head. "You're already faster than I. This will only slow me down, and I would hate to ruin it once we are alone." Then she smiled, her expression full of anticipation.

"Good point," Eragon agreed, setting down the pack and shrugging out of his princely tunic.

Arya let the dress slip off her body, carefully laying it along a bench near the outside wall of the Great Hall. She then removed the delicate tiara resting on her brow and set it on top. She curled her toes against the cold stone of the courtyard, standing then in only her sleeveless undershirt and tight leggings, which revealed even more of her amazing body.

Eragon's eyes flashed hungrily as he swept them over his new bride. He hastily removed his silk shirt and tossed it on the pile with the rest, trusting that someone else would tend to their clothes, not caring if they didn't. Arya was already used to seeing him bare chested, as that was how he had spent the past several days. She had assured him she didn't mind—indeed, that she actually quite enjoyed it—so Eragon saw no reason to take a brand new shirt and dirty it in the wilderness. He glanced down at his handsome leather pants but saw no way he could remove them yet and so concluded they must accept whatever fate was theirs. Then he kicked off the heavy boots and removed his socks.

Arya commanded his attention with a small sound of exasperation, and Eragon wondered that he had ever let his concern over clothes distract him from her, if only momentarily. "Can we go yet!" she demanded, bouncing impatiently on her toes. Once he was looking, Arya danced away with a playful, challenging look in her eyes.

Eragon caught on to her desire and lunged for her, but she laughed and, having anticipated his move, nimbly dodged him, dashing toward the opening in the courtyard in an effort to get a head start. Eragon grabbed the pack and started after her, letting her go at first.

Just at that moment, Saphira's mind touched his. Congratulations, little one, she purred, her joy and love washing over him. Eragon smiled and looked up at her circling the courtyard with Fírnen by her side. He felt slightly guilty about how he had almost completely ignored Saphira since Arya had arrived.

Saphira dismissively and somewhat apologetically replied, It is what I wanted for you more than anything else, and I have not done much better besides. Saphira and Fírnen's joy at Eragon and Arya's union almost matched their own.

Eragon had learned that Fírnen had long known of Arya's true feelings for him, the ones she had continually denied and suppressed in her stubborn loyalty to her duties in Ellesméra. However, Fírnen had known she needed to admit them for herself and hadn't pressed her into seeing them any sooner than he did, and only then because of the threat to her health. Eragon would always be grateful to Fírnen for bringing Arya to him and keeping her safe while they were apart.

Sensing his thoughts, Fírnen replied, You are most welcome, Eragon. Now you will have the mate of your heart as I have mine. He snaked his head over to nip at Saphira, who playfully spun away. Arya's happiness only completes my own. And I have you to thank for returning her to health and bringing joy to her face, something I had rarely seen in her before.

Eragon bowed his head in acknowledgment and thought, just as he heard Arya think the same thing, We want to be alone now!

He burst out laughing and felt Arya do the same, far ahead of him. The dragons roared their approval and flew away in the opposite direction.

Eragon started to run, wanting nothing more than to catch his wife and reach a secluded place where they could be alone, the only two people who mattered in the world. He followed her smell as he sprinted after her, knowing he would reach her within minutes. He grinned as he spotted Arya disappearing through a clearing into the trees beyond and knew she could hear him gaining on her when she giggled and gave a desperate effort to outdistance him once more.

Eragon laughed as he closed the gap between them, feeling like a predator about to pounce on his prey. "I've almost got you," he growled, and Arya shrieked in anticipation of her capture. Without breaking stride, Eragon swept her into his arms, and she threw her own around his neck, laughing breathlessly as he nibbled her ears and neck.

"Farther?" Eragon asked.

"Yes! And let me down!"

Eragon slowed, gently setting Arya on her feet and keeping firm hold of her hand. "No more escaping," he ordered, pretending to be stern as he started to run again. But Arya pulled on his hand to stop him, as she had in the courtyard.

"Never mind," Arya amended, breathing quickly as she leaned against him, her chest rising and falling against his, which didn't escape Eragon's notice. "Eragon, I don't want to go any farther. I don't want to wait any longer. I want you! Now!"

Arya's intensity surprised him, but Eragon didn't have much time to consider it before she pressed her lips against his, using her hands to explore his body more insistently than ever before. She ran them along his chest and abdomen, up to his shoulders and down his arms, then back up to his neck, where she slipped the fingers of one hand into his hair while circling the other around his back. She pressed herself against him then jerked back, glaring down at her thin shirt, its insignificant width still separating them. She grabbed it around the hem with both hands, yanked it off over her head, and tossed it aside in one swift motion, barely allowing Eragon to appreciate that her naked torso was pressing against his before it already was.

"Mmmm," Arya breathed at the amazing, warm feeling of their bare chests coming together. "That feels marvelous." She grinned excitedly before kissing him again, now involving her tongue as much as her lips.

Until that moment, Eragon had felt almost overwhelmed by the onslaught, still disbelieving that her passion—her need for him—could match his own for her. But as her kisses evolved and her naked skin slid against his, unbelievably soft and smooth, his hesitation fled and the full strength of his passion broke forth.

Eragon grasped her leggings on either side of her hips and ripped them off. He pulled Arya up so her legs were around his waist, holding her with one arm while he fumbled with his other hand to remove his own pants.

But Arya shook her head slightly, returning her feet to the ground so she could help with this part. She gazed at him with her lips pressed together in an eager smile while she unbuttoned his pants, pulling them—along with his undergarments—swiftly down. There she crouched as he stepped out, reaching up to run her hands along his legs and invite him down with her.

They knelt before each other, breathing quickly and staring into one another's eyes. Arya's burned with wild longing, her smile widening in anticipation as she grabbed his hands and began to lie back.

Eragon stopped her with an arm around her back, glancing at the ground in concern. "Will you be comfortable?"

"The grass is soft," Arya whispered, wrapping one arm around his neck and using the other to sweep her hair out from under her body, where it fell in a careless tangle above her head. Eragon also smiled, both at her eagerness and how amazingly sensual she was. Arya continued pulling him toward her until he was positioned above her, supporting his weight on his feet and hands. Eragon didn't allow himself to touch her, though he was fully aroused from their interaction.

Arya arched toward him, pulling on his shoulders and willing him to close the distance between them. Anxiously she cried, "Eragon, why do you stop? Please! Don't hold back!"

Eragon squeezed his eyes shut, breathing with forced control and managing in a strained voice, "I don't want . . . to hurt you. . . . Help me."

-:- Arya smiled, her eyes somehow communicating her appreciation of his respect for her. And she helped him.

After a time, when Eragon could think clearly again and had quieted his breathing, he slowly opened his eyes to find Arya studying his face, her fingers slowly moving along his back. He shook his head in an attempt to communicate that he was speechless, and then he recognized the fire burning in her eyes as what he had experienced moments before, when he felt he must either explode or find relief at once.

Whatever had just happened for him, leaving him feeling simultaneously empty and full of perfect joy, had clearly not happened for Arya. Willing to do anything for her so she could feel the same satisfaction, Eragon immediately whispered, "What can I do?"

"Turn over," Arya commanded, so he did. Her hair followed last, sweeping to the side to create a dark curtain next to her face with the ends still resting on the grass. She straightened her arms to push herself up, and her hair pulled onto his shoulder and chest. Eragon remembered the feeling from the first night she had slept in his arms, and he smiled again at the soft, ticklish sensation.

Her beauty—no, perfection—was devastating. Eragon remembered the only other time he had seen the skin of her back and shoulders—covered in angry red welts of abuse at the hands of cruel captors. Now her skin was smooth, rich in color like light honey, and unblemished. He wanted to touch her, as much of her as he could.

Eragon looked toward her face, seeking permission, just as Arya whispered, "Touch me," in a much less demanding, more vulnerable tone.

His eyes reached hers, and Eragon saw that the fire was there but also that she wanted his help to stoke it and bring about her release. He did as she asked, touching her in an adoring manner. She made additional requests, which he gladly obeyed, and he was successful in accomplishing his desire of helping Arya achieve the same satisfaction he had.

-:-:-

As the last sensations of pleasure faded from her being, Arya curled against Eragon, breathing heavily, unsure if she fully grasped what had just happened to her, but now understanding the speechless awe that had covered Eragon's face and filled his eyes. "Thank you," she breathed, seized by an overwhelming feeling of gratitude and relief. She loosened her grip when she realized that she was tightly clenching Eragon's arms, leaving behind white impressions of her fingers.

"Arya," Eragon whispered. "I've wanted you and to do that with you for so long. That we just did and you welcomed it as you did is the most exquisite gift you could ever give me. Thank you, my beautiful wife." She smiled against him as they sat with their arms wrapped around each other. Eventually Eragon lay back on the ground, cushioning her body and covering her with his arms to keep her warm as the heat of their passion and exertion cooled. Neither felt a need to break the silence, swallowed as they were in recalling the experience they had just shared.

As Arya relaxed against Eragon's chest, she marveled at the power of the forces designed to create new life, understanding why they were so sacred and needed to be guarded. -:- She would never be the same after the intense emotions that had just been aroused in her, culminating in the most amazing sensation she had ever experienced. Already she wanted to surrender to the love and longing once more, and she now realized why it was so important for her and Eragon to first join in marriage. Without that foundation of commitment and selflessness, Arya could easily comprehend how this force might become addictive and destructive.

Arya lifted her head to gaze at her husband, favoring him with a wondering smile and gentle kiss, which he returned in like manner. She was fully Eragon's, and he hers. Nothing would ever break their union.

-:-:-:-