Dinner tonight was to be a fancy affair, so Eragon withdrew to his quarters to wash again. His bout with Vanir had been much less tiring than the one with Arya, but he had sweated through his tunic nonetheless.
When he was done showering, he donned a simple pair of dark brown leather pants, and then he threw on a blue undershirt matching Saphira's scales perfectly. His leather vest came next. This was perhaps the most elegant article of clothing Eragon owned. It was a gift from all the elven spellcasters who had joined him in Arngor. They had gifted it to him on his twentieth birthday. This was his first real chance to show it off to anyone though.
The leather was a dark brown that matched the leggings he wore, but the trim of the vest shined like a brilliant rainbow of dazzling color. The elves had taken to collecting the scales that often fell from the young dragons as they grew and scratched them away. It was enchanted with deep magical protections, and the enchantments gave him an added immunity to dragon flame.
"At least in my chest," Eragon thought wryly.
He was picturing himself a limbless body, arms and legs burnt to a crisp.
"They would never get close enough to burn you little one," Saphira said confidently. "My flames reach farther and hold longer than any other dragon alive," she said proudly.
"Aye, big one," Eragon thought to her. "That is precisely the problem we face when determining the structure of the council. Who could possibly best the two of us?"
"And with Arya and Firnen on our side, who could best the four of us?" Saphira finished his thought for him.
"Exactly!" Eragon thought. "We came here because our power is too great already. Limitations must be put in place simply because of the many magical secrets the Eldunari have shared. Whoever replaces us one day may not hold the same values of peace and justice. What if we or they abuse the power of the dragon riders? It bodes ill for the future. Both your and Firnen's pairing and mine and Arya's make us even more powerful. What would happen if one of you died? Would we all go mad with grief? In our madness, what would we do? What would be our legacy?"
"So many questions little one," Saphira said. "All will not be solved so soon. We have been back only a few days. Speak with emerald-eyes. She will understand. Find the answers together."
"When did you become the patient one?" Eragon asked her seriously.
"I have waited to be a mother longer than most of my brethren, and perhaps it has given me wisdom in the power of waiting," Saphira said. "I could have taken a mate many times over, but I could not picture raising hatchlings without him."
Eragon had always wanted a family of his own, and now that it was almost his he couldn't help but let his imagination wander.
"Saphira, do you think Arya and I will have children of our own?" Eragon thought. "I mean is it possible?"
Saphira pondered the question. "I see no reason it should not work," she said. "You appear more Elven than human these days. Perhaps the changes the dragons made at the Agaeti Blodhren were also to make this so. Even if you cannot, the Riders are all like your children for a time anyways. It is not quite the same, but you and I have both seen the fulfillment teaching brings to our lives. There is solace to be found in that even if you cannot create children of your own."
A knock at the door pulled Eragon from his questioning mind. He sensed the music of Arya's thoughts, and he went to open the door. He was shocked by her appearance. She was garbed in a floor-length emerald-green gown that sparkled with the many jewels laced throughout the garment. Her hair was up, woven into intricate braids that framed her face perfectly.
"You look…" Eragon began.
But he couldn't complete his words. The look on Arya's face was just as silly. Her mouth was wide open as she took in the myriad of colors shining off the scales embedded in his vest.
"You clean up well," Arya said. "Are those?"
"Yes," he replied. "Yaela and Blodgharm and the elves of the original voyage to Arngor gifted it to me. The scales are from those discarded by the many wild dragons of the first few years."
"It's beautiful!" she said.
"As is your dress," Eragon replied. "It matches your eyes perfectly."
It appeared flattery was getting them both nowhere because neither seemed able to move after their respective statements. Arya reached out a tendril of thought to him. All at once, he could see that she was mesmerized by his appearance. Interestingly though, despite her appreciation of his vest, she wanted only to remove it in that moment.
"Don't tempt me Arya," Eragon said with restraint, pulling back from her mind.
He could tell she enjoyed his discomfort.
"We can't be late for the feast," he said.
"Fine," Arya said. "But I will remove that vest eventually. We have been mates too long not to enjoy some of the more…intimate benefits."
He floundered at her words. She had been incredibly forward lately. It was a side of her he had never seen. It wasn't that he didn't want to be more intimate. It was all he thought about sometimes, even in his dreams. But he had never been with anyone, and the Eldunari could not share with him what exactly two-leg mating looked like physically. Nor could he ask those in Arngor due to sheer embarrassment. Maybe it was the exact same as with the Elven couplings he had been shown, but he just didn't know. He was woefully inexperienced in this particular area, and he wasn't entirely sure what experience Arya had. Should he ask?
"Arya… did you and Faolin…?" Eragon started. "No," she said. "We were not mates yet when he died," she finished sadly.
"I'm sorry to bring it up," Eragon said trying to explain. "I only wished to know because I have never…"
Her eyes lit up with understanding.
"No one?" She queried. "I thought surely there were girls in Carvahall at the very least."
"You must remember," Eragon said. "I was a poor bastard farm boy with no family besides my uncle and cousin. I could provide nothing but what I could reap from the earth. The most notable thing about me at the time was my hunting skills in the Spine. My prospects in life and marriage were poor."
"And none after?" she said. "With all those proposals of marriage to the Lord Rider?" She was teasing him now, but he could tell she really wanted to know.
"There has been no other for me," Eragon said in the ancient language. "Some tried; A few of my students, an elf or two visiting from Alagaesia. Even though they shared my longevity, my heart was already yours. I couldn't help comparing them all to you, and they could never be you. It would have been unfair to them had I entertained their affections."
He wished desperately to evade the piercing gaze she levied him with then.
"You've received your fair share of proposals," he pointed out, watching with mirth as a frown spread across her face.
"Who told you this?" Arya asked sharply.
"It came up in the mind of one I observed while meditating," Eragon revealed, leaving Hvedra out of it. "Manin I believe is his name."
Arya sighed.
"Yes, the matter came up a few times over the years," she said. "He only wanted the power a pairing of that nature ensured. The others only lusted after me."
"I see," Eragon said. "While I also lust after you, I am not experienced in the intimacy between mates, and I am afraid I will likely make a fool of myself."
"Do not be afraid. It will be fine Eragon," Arya said. "When we meet in that way, all you must do is open your mind to me. I will know your wants, and you will know mine."