37. Dance

Arya felt completely recovered from the previous night's exhaustion by the time she awoke. Eragon was on the other side of the room, not far from where Saphira and Fírnen curled affectionately around one another. He had his shirt off and was performing the fourth level of the elves' Rimgar with perfect flexibility and precision. Arya watched him in indulgent admiration. His body was sleek with sweat, though he did not appear to be winded, and his muscles flowed from form to form.

She sat up and stretched, smiling at Eragon as she did. He returned the smile without pausing his exercise. Arya arose, gliding over to stand in front of him. She picked up exactly where he was, mirroring his every movement with equal grace and fluidity.

"This is something I could do while we were apart and I always felt cold," Arya said with satisfaction.

Eragon had been near the end of the dance when Arya joined him, and she was disappointed as they assumed the last pose. "Would you like to do it again?" he inquired.

Arya brightened hopefully, but she said, "If you are already tired, I could do it myself."

"No, Arya, I'm not tired," Eragon assured. "This helps me maintain my flexibility and strength, and I'm sure my stamina to a certain extent, but I rarely feel winded when I'm finished. I would be glad to do it again. In fact, I welcome the idea with relish. Having you to look upon breaks the monotony immeasurably." Then as a thought seemed to occur to him, he added with a sly look in his eye, "Although it does seem only fair that I have the same enjoyment as you. I didn't miss your pointed observation of my body as you assumed each pose. Won't you give me the same pleasure?"

Arya understood him perfectly and swiftly undressed before him, coyly asking, "Is this what you had in mind?"

Eragon cleared his throat, attempting to keep his face expressionless as he eyed her hungrily. "Aye, although I am doubting now that it was a good idea. It will increase the challenge of the dance considerably to have a partner such as you and maintain my self-control at the same time."

"I feel certain you are equal to the task," Arya confidently said. "But let us not delay, for I may not be." The hungry look in Eragon's eyes only intensified, although he succeeded in keeping his face blank.

Arya began with the first pose, and Eragon imitated her. She moved smoothly from one form to the next, never faltering. Soon her body began to glisten with sweat, while his now dripped from him. She could tell his effort was far greater this time—his muscles tense as he warred with his emotions, his breathing harsh and strained.

Eragon never lessened the difficulty by closing his eyes, though he could have. Arya knew from his first time performing it that he had the Rimgar memorized, but he didn't seem to care that his mental suffering was great. He eagerly kept his eyes upon her, drinking in the fluid grace of her muscles.

After the final pose, they faced one another with fierce eyes, heaving chests, and gleaming skin. Eragon straightened formally, never taking his eyes from her. Arya also stood tall, using one hand to move the hair clinging to her wet brow.

They stood in charged silence, neither one daring to make the first move, hardly able to understand the tension they felt.

As if on cue, they urgently lunged for each other. When their lips met, Arya wrapped herself around him and Eragon carried her to the bed.

-:-:-

Eragon couldn't understand why his need was suddenly so wild, why it seemed as if he had never yet tasted or experienced Arya like this. Her passion seemed similarly uncontrolled, and in just moments, a powerful release swept over them both, but she couldn't cease, nor could he. They carried on, wishing for the usual calm, unable to find it.

When his mouth was momentarily free, Eragon growled through clenched teeth, "What is happening? My hunger for you threatens to destroy me!"

"I know not," Arya forced out in a low voice, "save I feel the same."

There was nothing to do but continue, for their passion demanded it, all control long since fled. Eragon tried to be careful, knowing the strength of his hands was sufficient to crush her body, but Arya seemed not to have the same worry, for she brought all of her own considerable strength to bear as she explored his body, and Eragon sometimes grunted in surprise.

After an indefinite time, perhaps only minutes, the longed-for relief finally arrived, and they were each equally stunned by what they had just experienced.

"What . . . was . . . that?" Eragon demanded, not of Arya, but of the room at large.

"I . . . I . . ." Arya faltered, unable to explain, for she obviously didn't know.

That was enough to put us dragons to shame, Saphira casually observed from across the room. The dragons hadn't openly gawked at their Riders, but they had experienced the exchange intimately enough through their minds. Fírnen's rumble of amusement vibrated through the floor, and the bed trembled in response.

Arya giggled, but Eragon only grimaced. Now that he was able to feel anything other than the all-consuming lust that had just gripped him, he felt sickened. He gazed at Arya and softly said, "I'm so sorry, Arya. That almost felt wrong. I know it wasn't, but I just . . ." He trailed off, struggling to articulate his thoughts, as he was still not even sure of them. "It was how I imagine lust would be. Not at all the pure and selfless love we have shared so far. All I wanted was to satisfy myself to end the desperate—no, wild—craving. I had no thought for you at all except not to hurt you."

Arya stroked his hair comfortingly. "I felt the same, Eragon. If there is blame to be placed, though I do not think there is, then I deserve half. We are married and free to express our passion as we will, though like you said, without hurting each other. Incidentally, did I cause you pain?"

Eragon grinned tightly. "No, my love. You just surprised me." But he couldn't let it go. "But I don't fully agree with what you said. Yes, we are married and there was no sin in what we did, and yet I cannot help but feel that it was still not fully appropriate. I have been aware of relationships where the intimate expression was violent and self-serving, and the woman was always broken and despairing. I won't allow that to happen," he promised then pleadingly added, "Swear you won't let me."

"I swear it," Arya solemnly vowed. "I'm thankful you are so mindful of my safety and happiness, but I won't let you shoulder all the blame. I shared equally in the lust, if that is what you insist on calling it, and if anything, was more to blame for unrestrained expression. If I had been an unwilling participant and you forced yourself upon me, that would have been entirely different. But as it was, you are faultless."

Eragon smiled gratefully. "Why did it happen though? Was it merely the result of suppressing my passion while I watched you doing the Rimgar? It seemed so explosive, so sudden. Not even our first time, as passionate as it was, came close to rivaling that."

Arya sighed. "Eragon, we have been married but two weeks, and we waited so long to be with each other before that, particularly you. You are in the very phase of your life where this type of longing is most powerful. What did you expect? That one time with me would satisfy it for good? I appreciate how much you honor me, but don't be so hard on yourself. Indeed, you can see that nothing you have done so far has exceeded my wishes, but has only left me wanting more."

Eragon looked contrite, so Arya continued, "As to why it happened, I do not know, though your guess seems a likely possibility. I feel like there is some internal change responsible for the outburst, at least my part of it. Something to do with the baby perhaps. I have heard that pregnancy affects women differently. Some want nothing to do with their husbands, whereas others seem never to get enough. I fear I am more apt to fit into the latter category." She gave him an apologetic smile.

Eragon's expression was of feigned trepidation, his smile confirming his jest. But he did say with some degree of sincerity, "Then I had best be prepared. Your desire and intensity are already enough to make me the envy of all men, without adding anything to them."

Arya nuzzled him playfully, acknowledging the truth of his words. "Though all women might be as insatiable as I with a husband such as you," she said, also jesting yet honest.

"Please," Eragon begged. "If you do not cease in your ardent praise of me, it might yet go to my head. Then what will become of us?"

"I will end my praise of you when you end yours of me," Arya matter-of-factly replied as if that settled the matter.

Which it did, for Eragon said, "That won't soon happen."

Arya smiled triumphantly, stretching on him and propping herself up on his chest. "The day is yet young and see how much we have already accomplished? Some mild exercise followed by some strenuous. I have worked up quite an appetite. And you, darling?"

Eragon laughed at how she ranked their exercise and agreed, "Aye. That I have. Perhaps after breakfast, if we can control ourselves, we can join in the training routines of some of the other Riders. You mentioned you would like that."

"I most certainly would. Do you think I will lose control first or you?" Arya quipped.

"Must it be inevitable?" Eragon groaned. "It doesn't matter who does first. If I do at all, anyone paying any attention will surely notice, so obvious is my arousal."

Arya laughed. "You may call on me at any moment to obscure said arousal, should the need arise."

"That's comforting," Eragon groused. "Shall we clean ourselves? I haven't sweat that much since before you came."

Arya laughed lightly, kissing his lips before springing nimbly to her feet and approaching the washbasin.