Chapter 9
The pre-dawn air was crisp as Harry, Daphne, and Eragon gathered in the clearing. Harry initially thought of themselves as The Three Stooges with the way they were waiting in a line for instruction. Oromis stood before them, his posture perfect and movements fluid as he demonstrated the first position of the Rimgar.
"The Dance of Snake and Crane," Oromis explained, his voice calm yet commanding. "Watch carefully."
The elf moved with impossible grace, each motion flowing into the next like a spot of oil swirling around in a pot of water. Harry and Daphne struggled to mirror his movements, their muscles arguing very loudly with them at positions they'd never attempted before. Eragon, having done this before, managed slightly better but still showed signs of strain.
Oromis straightened up and gracefully walked towards Harry, observing each movement.
"Your back must remain straight," Oromis corrected, adjusting Harry's posture. "Feel the energy flow from earth to sky through your spine."
"Apologies, do you mean our magic?" Daphne asked earnestly.
Oromis smiled, "What is magic?" he said as he turned to face her.
"Magic is energy." Daphne said simply.
Oromis dipped his head in approval.
Harry made a grunting noise. Daphne suppressed a giggle as Harry wobbled, nearly falling over. 'You look like a drunken hippogriff,' she projected through their bond.
'At least I'm not the one who keeps falling on my bum,' Harry shot back, watching her struggle with a particularly challenging stance. Taking in the extra details of her curves. He focused on closing his mind off from her at that point. There had been a few awkward thoughts that made their way across their bond in the first few days, but now Harry was finding it much easier to control. He sent a
Aëlindra watched from nearby, her golden scales catching the first rays of dawn. In the two weeks since her hatching, she'd grown considerably - now the size of a large dog - and showed increasing interest in their training sessions. She suddenly turned her head in the direction of the tree covered path.
A tall, graceful figure emerged from the tree line, her raven hair catching the morning light. Eragon straightened immediately, his face brightening at the sight of Arya approaching.
"Remember the greeting," Eragon whispered quickly to Harry and Daphne. "Touch your first two fingers to your lips and say 'Atra esterní ono thelduin.'"
Arya approached with fluid grace, her emerald eyes assessing the newcomers. Eragon stepped forward first, touching his fingers to his lips.
"Atra esterní ono thelduin," Eragon said, his voice carrying a slight tremor of excitement.
"Atra du evarínya ono varda," Arya replied smoothly, apparently ignoring his excitement, then added, "Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr."
Harry stepped forward next, mimicking the gesture though somewhat less gracefully. "Atra esterní ono thelduin," he managed, careful to pronounce each syllable correctly.
Arya's lips curved slightly at his effort. "Atra du evarínya ono varda."
Finally, Daphne approached with perfect pureblood poise, executing the gesture with natural elegance. "Atra esterní ono thelduin," she said clearly, her pronunciation nearly perfect.
"Un du evarínya ono varda," Arya responded, a glimmer of approval in her eyes at Daphne's composure.
"These are our new students," Oromis introduced. "Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass, from beyond our realm."
Arya's gaze was penetrating as she assessed them. "I will be instructing you in combat and defensive arts," she stated simply. "Both magical and physical."
'Someone's got it bad,' Daphne commented to Harry, noting Eragon's obvious infatuation with their new instructor.
'Like you're one to talk,' Harry responded, remembering how she'd been watching him that morning. She pouted at him and stuck her tongue out. Their relationship had grown stronger yet still awkward.
-oIo-
The training intensified over the following weeks. Mornings began with the Rimgar, which gradually became less torturous as their bodies adapted. Arya proved to be a demanding but effective teacher, drilling them in swordplay and hand-to-hand combat.
"Your enemy will not wait for you to be ready," she would say, launching into another devastating combination of strikes that left them bruised but wiser.
Meanwhile, Aëlindra continued to grow at a remarkable rate. Her wingspan now stretched impressive lengths, and her mental presence grew stronger daily. Now that she had learned to speak, she particularly enjoyed watching Harry's combat training, projecting suggestions and occasionally unhelpful commentary. This was the worst. Saphira had also told Harry that it took her about two months to speak as well (although she explained it as the passing of two full moons).
Aëlindra stared judgmentally at Harry.
'Your footwork is atrocious,' she would observe. 'No wonder you keep ending up in the dirt.'
'Thanks for the support,' Harry would mentally grumble back, picking himself up for another round. 'I am sure you would do better.'
'If I had thumbs I would.' Harry groaned at that.
I'll expand on this paragraph about Harry and Daphne's deepening bond during their training in Alagaësia:
The bond between Harry and Daphne deepened dramatically as the weeks flew by, their shared experiences and constant mental connection created an intimacy neither had expected. Harry would use the word awkward again yet through their daily training sessions, they discovered new dimensions to their connection that both thrilled and unnerved them.
Their mental link grew stronger with each day. What began as brief flashes of emotion or fragments of thoughts turned into a canvas with different colours of paint that they both appeared to be mentally painting together. They also found themselves completing each other's sentences not just verbally, but mentally too. A mere glance could convey entire conversations, and their thoughts would dance and interweave like the bond between Eragon and Saphira. Or so that was what Eragon explained.
But during combat training, their synchronization became almost supernatural. Harry began to feel as though he was partnered with Xena. Harry would instinctively duck just as Daphne's sword would sail over his head, while she would sidestep precisely when he needed space for a complex staff movement. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, as if they'd been fighting side by side for years rather than weeks. Arya, their combat instructor, often remarked that their coordination was unlike anything she'd seen before, even among the most experienced elven warriors. Within a matter of weeks, they were able to hold their own against Eragon and Arya, albeit the latter held back. Neither Harry nor Daphne were are strong as Eragon yet.
Harry often shared jokes with Daphne during particularly grueling training sessions and that became like their secret sanctuary. When Oromis would demonstrate a particularly challenging stance in the Rimgar, they'd exchange mental quips about looking like a clown or a confused flobberworm. These private moments of distraction often helped them endure the physical demands of their training, their silent laughter echoing through their bond even as they maintained serious expressions for their Oromis' benefit.
But it wasn't just the conscious sharing that surprised them. They noticed smaller changes too. Harry would find himself craving strawberries, only to discover it was actually Daphne's hunger he was feeling. She would suddenly feel the urge to adjust her glasses, even though she was not wearing any! Their dreams started to blend at times, creating shared landscapes where they could walk together but Harry would often dream of the graveyard, of Cedric's death and Daphne would be standing next to him in the dream. She would comfort him in her dreams but neither would remember in the morning.
During the day, the intimacy of their connection sometimes proved challenging. Private thoughts became harder to keep truly private, and emotions had a way of piercing through even their strongest mental shields. There were moments when the intensity of their bond felt overwhelming, especially during these emotional peaks. When Harry would get frustrated with a particularly difficult spell, Daphne would feel his anger burning in her own chest. When she missed her family, he would find himself fighting back tears he didn't understand.
There were some other uneasy shared thoughts that they found difficult to manage. Being teenagers, a few very explicit thoughts and dreams from Harry pervaded Daphne's dreams if she was asleep; and thoughts when she was awake; and this caused her to feel extremely hot under the covers. Daphne focused hard on her Occlumency shields in these instances.
Yet through it all, they found themselves growing more comfortable with this profound level of sharing. They developed their own mental language, a mixture of images, emotions, and half-formed thoughts that conveyed meaning more effectively than words ever could. They learned to respect each other's mental space while still maintaining their connection, like dancers who know exactly when to touch and when to spin apart.
Their bond with Aëlindra added another layer of complexity to their connection. The young dragon's consciousness would weave through their shared mental space, adding her own unique perspective to their experiences. Her joy at mastering flight would surge through their bond, filling them both with an open sense of freedom and achievement. Her hunger, curiosity, and affection became part of their daily emotional landscape.
As time passed, they realized their connection wasn't just strengthening - it was evolving into something entirely new. Their magic began to resonate differently when they cast spells together, their powers amplifying and complementing each other in ways that surprised them. During their meditation sessions, their magical cores would pulse, creating patterns of energy that Oromis said he'd never witnessed before. Visible energy was not common in Alagaësia.
The connection became their anchor in this strange new world, a constant reminder that neither of them was truly alone. Despite the challenges they faced - the rigorous training, the cultural adjustments, the looming threat of Galbatorix - they found strength in their shared experiences and mutual understanding. Yes, they both missed him, Harry missed his friends – no – family. He knew Daphne missed her family even more as well so their bond became a source of comfort, support, and unexpected joy at times.
But over time, all this began to feel natural. What had initially seemed intrusive or overwhelming gradually became as normal as breathing. They learned to navigate their shared mental space with increasing grace, maintaining their individual identities while embracing their connection. It was as if they'd discovered a new way of existing - not as two separate people, but as two parts of a greater whole, their consciousness intertwined like the branchy knobs of the Whomping Willow.
-oIo-
The training grounds echoed with the clash boom clang of steel as Harry and Eragon faced off against Vanir, one of the most skilled elven warriors. Oromis had arranged for all three of them to spar with other elves to improve their skills through constant daily practice. Harry found his footing slippery on the grass, as well as steam from his mouth which constantly fogged up his glasses.
"Your stance is weak, human," Vanir sneered at Eragon, his blade dancing through the air. He rebutted Eragon's swing and hip tossed him to the ground after which he continued, "and you, Shur'tugal," he turned to Harry, "rely too heavily on your magic."
"Maybe," Harry grunted, parrying a vicious strike, "but at least I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty!"
Nearby, Daphne circled gracefully with Niduën, their movements fluid and precise. The female elf's grace was matched only by Daphne's calculated precision. She told Harry a while ago that as a pureblood, her parents had sent her for Fencing, which was also something that Harry would have done if circumstances were different.
"Your form improves," Niduën commented, dodging a swift thrust. "But you think too much like a witch. Here, magic and movement must be one."
"Then let's try something different," Daphne replied, her eyes narrowing in concentration. She feinted left before executing a perfect slash that nearly caught Niduën off guard.
Arya watched from the sidelines; her expression unreadable as she observed their progress. Eragon kept stealing glances her way, costing him several hits from Vanir's relentless assault.
"Focus, Eragon!" Harry called out, blocking another of Vanir's strikes. "She's not going anywhere!" Arya turned and disappeared into the trees.
Eragon flushed in anger but redoubled his efforts. Together, he and Harry pressed Vanir back, their blades working in tandem because of the practice they had put in together, working on the same forms but the elf's superior speed and strength still outmatched their growing coordination.
"Pathetic," Vanir grunted. "Our time is up; I will see you tomorrow." He turned and left. Harry felt very slighted and offended by the elf's behavior, he knew he had done nothing to offend Vanir. Meanwhile, Aëlindra watched from her perch, her mental presence a constant warmth in Harry's mind. 'Your left side was open,' she observed so everyone could hear. 'And your footwork still needs work.'
'Thanks for the commentary,' Harry replied dryly.
Saphira rumbled in agreement. 'She's right, you know. Both of you could learn from watching Daphne's movements.'
Indeed, Daphne's duel with Niduën had drawn a small crowd. Her combination of magical theory and physical combat was creating a unique fighting style that even the elves found intriguing.
"Your mate shows promise," an elderly male elf commented to Harry, causing him to stumble slightly. "Atra du evarínya ono varda. I am Lord Däthedr, well met."
Harry and Eragon both responded in kind and when Daphne had concluded they all left the training ground.
Later, as they sat recovering by the practice field, Eragon turned to Harry. "Did you see her? The way she moved during the demonstration?"
Harry exchanged an amused look with Daphne. "Yes, Eragon, we all saw Arya. Just like we see her every day."
"No Harry, I meant Daphne." Eragon sighed, earning an eye roll from Saphira.
'Little one, your heart beats a little too loudly at the mention of Arya,' she chided gently.
'Jealous?' He retorted which earned his a dragon sized huff.
Daphne leaned against a tree, wiping sweat from her brow. "The elven fighting style is fascinating. It's like nothing I've ever seen before." Harry took note of how pretty she was even when she was drenched in sweat. Harry found himself watching her, noticing how the sunlight caught her hair, how her eyes sparkled when she talked about new magic. His heart did a strange flip in his chest.
'You're staring,' Aëlindra observed privately.
'Am not,' Harry protested, quickly looking away.
'Humans are strange,' Aëlindra decided. 'When dragons find a mate, we simply say so.'
Harry felt his face heat up. 'It's not- she's not- it's a little complicated.'
Daphne chose that specific moment to look his way, catching his eye. She smiled, and Harry felt his stomach do another flip. Damn, her eyes were sparkly.
'Not that complicated,' Aëlindra commented smugly.
-oIo-
The rest of the day passed in a blur of training and lessons. As evening fell, they gathered for their usual meal together. Harry found himself constantly aware of Daphne's presence beside him, the way her hand occasionally brushed his when reaching for something, how her laugh made his chest tighten.
"Harry?" Daphne's voice broke through his thoughts. "Are you alright? You've been quiet."
"Fine," he managed, trying to ignore how blue her eyes were in the fading light. "Just tired from training."
'Are you sure?' she asked mentally.
He nodded while gazing at the floor.
She gave him a look that suggested she didn't quite believe him, but didn't press the issue. Their mental bond hummed with unspoken thoughts and feelings, making Harry grateful she couldn't read everything in his mind at that moment.
As they walked back to their quarters that night, Harry watched Daphne as she walked ahead with Aëlindra, talking animatedly about some aspect of elvish magic. The setting sun caught her hair, turning it to liquid gold, and Harry felt something shift inside him – a realization he wasn't quite ready to face.
He thought about how far they'd come from that day by the lake at Hogwarts, how their bond had grown into something he couldn't imagine living without. The way she understood him without words, challenged him to be better, stood beside him without question. It was almost as though Hermione and Cho were packed into one. But he kept these thoughts to himself, locked away where even their bond couldn't reach. Some things were better left unsaid, at least for now.
'Coward,' Aëlindra commented affectionately.
Harry just smiled, watching Daphne disappear into their shared quarters, his heart full of words he couldn't yet speak.
As the golden rays of sunset filtered through the trees of Du Weldenvarden, Harry and Daphne let the room to sit by a small stream near Oromis's dwelling. The day's training had left them exhausted but content. Aëlindra followed and dozed nearby, her golden scales catching the fading light.
"You did well today," Daphne said softly, breaking their comfortable silence. "The Rimgar is getting easier for you."
Harry turned to look at her, noticing how the evening light made her hair glow like spun gold. "Thanks to your help. I would've fallen on my face at least three times if you hadn't steadied me through our bond."
Daphne laughed, the happy sound reverberating through their mental connection. "Well, I couldn't let you embarrass yourself in front of Eragon again, could I?"
Their eyes met, and Harry felt that familiar flutter in his chest. Through their bond, he sensed her own nervousness, her own racing heart. Her breasts slowly moving up and down as her inhalations grew stronger.
"Daphne," he started, gathering his courage, "I've been thinking..."
"Dangerous habit, Potter," she teased, but her mental presence was warm, inviting.
"About us. This bond. Everything that's happened since we arrived here." He shifted closer to her. "I never expected any of this, but now I can't imagine..."
"Not having it?" she finished his thought, both verbally and mentally. "I know. It's strange how natural it feels now."
Harry reached for her hand, their marked palms touching, sending tingles of magic through both of them. "It's more than just the bond though, isn't it?"
Daphne's breath caught as she met his gaze. Without words, he felt her agreement, her own growing feelings mirroring his. Slowly, giving her time to pull away, Harry leaned forward. She reciprocated.
Their first kiss was gentle, hesitant, but filled with all the emotions they'd been holding back. Through their bond, they felt each other's joy, nervousness, and growing affection, creating a feedback loop of shared sensation that made the moment even more intense.
When they finally pulled apart, both were slightly breathless. Aëlindra's amused snort broke the moment, making them both laugh.
'Finally,' the young dragon projected to both, her mental voice full of satisfaction. 'Humans make everything so complicated.'