The second after Arya collapsed, the young dragon jumped on top of her, turning to gaze at Eragon. He remained still, waiting as it watched him. The dwarves were waking at the sound of her falling, and the young dragon turned its head, curious about the noise coming from the cabin.
Saphira stretched her neck over the railing, her head lowering over Eragon's. The dragon faced her, and Eragon watched as it squeaked at her, smoke puffing out of its mouth. The sapphire dragon was humming, and Eragon felt her mind reach out to the youngling. Knowing that she had the hatchling, Eragon stood, catching Orik and the other dwarves as they emerged.
"Barzûl, Eragon, what was that sound? Is that Arya?" Orik asked, the dwarf trying to peer around at the elf.
He stayed the dwarfs, gesturing for them to calm, "It's alright Orik. Arya is fine. Please, return to the cabin. Saphira and I can handle this."
The dwarf eyed him critically, but nodded after a moment. "Fine, Eragon. But I expect you to tell me when she awakens what has happened."
Eragon, the hatchling is hungry, Saphira informed him.
"Don't worry," Eragon chuckled lowly, "And if you could, Orik, may I have some of the dried meat from your pack? I promise I will explain everything later."
The dwarf muttered under his breath, motioning for the other two dwarves to return with him. A moment later Orik returned, his eyes narrowed at Eragon. The Rider merely smiled at him, and he tried to contain the sudden rush of joy that was coursing through his body. Eragon accepted the meat, watching as Orik stepped inside the wooden cabin.
Eragon turned around, his steps slow as he approached the hatchling. Arya was still lying prone on the ground, and Eragon longed to make her more comfortable. Instead, he kneeled down in front of the elf, his gaze set on the emerald dragon perched on top of her.
The hatchling was still staring at Saphira, its amber eyes wide as it took in the older dragon, but Eragon watched as it smelled the air around it. It noticed the meat in Eragon's hand, and squeaked at him.
The sight was so familiar to Eragon that he chuckled, tearing up the meat into smaller pieces. He motioned to the dragon to step off the elf, watching as it glanced between him and the meat now.
Saphira must have reassured the hatchling, for it jumped off Arya, and Eragon slowly fed it the meat. It was quick to snap up the flesh, tearing into the meat with great enthusiasm. He placed the rest on the ground before it, moving around the green dragon slowly and reached out for Arya.
He turned her head so that it was not at such an awkward position, before placing the old bag the egg was in under her head. Satisfied, he turned around to face the dragon, Arya lying behind him. The dragon finished eating, and he watched as it walked around the boat curiously, its movements slow from eating. It eventually stopped before him, sniffing at his fingers curiously. It nipped at him, but Eragon let it pull on his tunic as it went. Eventually it reached Arya, laying down beside her as it went. He turned around so he was in front of the dragon, watching as it slowly closed it eyes before him.
He smiled at the pair, a sense of hope filling him.
The youngling chose well, Saphira said. Arya will make a fine Rider.
Yes, Eragon said. And now, we are not so alone anymore. Two Riders who can fight Galbatorix, and reclaim Alagaësia's freedom.
She hummed as they both watched the pair, the night sky still dark above them.
After a few hours, in which Eragon had laid down in his spot and Saphira went back to resting on the shore, Eragon heard the rustling of the hatchling. It was sniffing curiously at Arya, the youngling pulling at various parts of her clothing while she slept. He chuckled, sitting up to watch the dragon.
Amber eyes met his, and Eragon always wondered how one so young could appear so ancient. It clambered its way over to him, sniffing at him once more. After a moment, a felt a small thread of thought poke at his mind. Opening his mind to the small dragon, he felt sensations flow through him. It was trying to show its gratitude, in the way that only a dragon could, at the meal Eragon provided it, as well as for protecting it when it was inside the egg. It took a moment for him to realize that the dragon was a male, and only because of the shape of the hatchlings mind.
He stroked the dragon's scales, watching as it stretched and turned around. It was prodding at his memories, and Eragon let it, content to show the dragon whatever it wished to know. An image of Arya popped into his head, and he let out a small laugh.
Of course you're interested in her, Eragon said to the dragon. He spoke in the ancient language, and although the dragon couldn't understand the language yet, he knew it could understand the intent behind them, she's your Rider.
Another image of her appeared, and Eragon replied, Arya.
Arya. The voice was deep, and Eragon was surprised. Not many dragons had a mental tone so low. And for it to speak so young was surprising, but Eragon turned the matter aside.
Arya.
The elf in question stirred behind the dragon, and Eragon watched as it turned around and climbed back on top of her. It was peering down at her face, watching her as she woke. The elf tried to sit up, groaning as she went, but stopped at the squeak the dragon let out. Eragon watched silently as her eyes snapped open, meeting the amber dragons. They remained still, and he could see the smile on Arya's face, even with the pain she no doubt was still feeling from the Gedwëy Ignasia.
Nearly a full five minutes passed before the dragon jumped off her, allowing her to sit up. The hatchling watched her as she moved, and Arya held her head with her hands as she finally sat all the way up.
He reached beside him and picked up a wineskin full of water, holding it out for her to take, "Hurts, doesn't it?"
She seemed to realize she was not alone, her head snapping up to meet him, only to wince. "Yes."
He shook the wineskin, watching as she grasped it and slowly took a drink. When she was done she set it to the side. Only then did she seem to notice her palm, the silver mark gaining her attention. Arya rubbed it with her other hand, her movements still slow.
"Shur'tugal." Eragon said. His words stilled her, her gaze meeting his.
"It is an honor, Arya." Eragon bowed lightly, "To have you join our ranks."
"Thank you, Eragon-elda," Arya said. "I can scarcely believe it."
The dragon nipped at her hand, and Eragon watched as she lightly touched its hide with her left hand. Arya's hand jumped at the contact, magic still churning inside the mark as it settled. "You have always wanted to be a Rider," Eragon commented.
"Yes," Arya whispered. "Ever since I've first heard of them, ever since I first met… For the longest time, it was my wish that the dragons would return. First you and Saphira appeared, and now this."
She seemed to be deep in thought, and Eragon descended into his own thoughts as well. The elves would be overjoyed that the last egg hatched for an elf, and Eragon knew that the humans either would be indifferent, or upset that it did not hatch for the Varden. Though he was human, many of the Varden forgot that at his appearance. Arya's mother, Eragon was unsure of. How the Elf Queen would react remained to be seen, but Eragon was overjoyed to finally have another Rider alongside him.
Arya would need to begin her training with Oromis as soon as they arrived, though there was little for her to learn for spellcasting and fighting. Mostly, Eragon assumed, Oromis and Glaedr would have the new dragon and Rider work on fighting together. Arya worked well with others when it was required of her, as Eragon had seen, but learning to fight with a dragon was different. There were times when he and Saphira fought that he was never sure who swung Brisingr, and who tore into flesh with claws.
"Get some more rest, Arya." Eragon said, "We have only a few hours until sunrise, and we need to set off quickly."
In the morning, Orik was the first to step out of the cabin and see the dragon, pausing as he strode up to them. Both Arya and Eragon were already awake, watching the hatchling sleep curled up on the deck. Neither of them was speaking, and Orik's sudden cry of "Vor Hrothgarz Korda!" nearly made Eragon jump.
The dwarf was staring at the emerald dragon, his eyes wide. He pointed at the hatchling, who was now awake and squeaking mightily, and said, "Do my eyes deceive me? Arya?"
Arya remained impassive, staring at the dwarf as he approached. He heard footsteps approach, and watched as Glenwing spotted them as well. The elf cried out, nearly flattening the dwarves in his haste to reach Arya and the dragon.
He bowed deeply to Arya, murmuring lightly in the ancient language. The two of them conversed, and he was glad that Glenwing seemed overjoyed as well. He caught Arya smiling gently, and Eragon stood. He gestured for Orik to join him. "Yes, Orik. Arya is a Rider now."
The dwarf stroked his beard, his eyes deep in contemplation, "Fate has made its choice it seems. I am happy for the elf, truly, but I know the hope the Varden placed in the egg."
"I doubt Arya will turn her back on them," Eragon stated softly, "She has spent nearly seventy years alongside the Varden. Even for elves, that is a significant amount of time."
"Aye, I know it." Orik replied, "And I'm sure Nasuada does as well. But the others? They will be harder to convince. We must not let word of this spread, not until Nasuada and Hrothgar know first."
Eragon nodded his head, "There are ways to contact them, but even magic can be intercepted. No, we keep this between us, here and now. Get the other dwarves to swear not to reveal anything, and we can enchant the dragon so no magic can find him."
Orik sighed, his hand pausing on his beard. "I do not like keeping this from my king, but I see the reasoning behind your words. These dwarves are loyal, and I will see to it that they will not speak a word."
He clasped the dwarf on the shoulder, watching as Orik began to speak softly to the other dwarves in their gruff language. Arya and Glenwing were still talking softly, both of them watching the hatchling.
"Arya, we must place wards around the dragon. The ones I had in place broke when he hatched." Eragon said. The elf nodded, understanding, and Eragon heard her speaking softly as she warded the dragon.
He spoke his own, adding wards of protection as well as various others to conceal the dragon's presence. The dragon twitched as the magic washed over him, but otherwise did not object to their work. As they finished, Eragon felt the raft begin to move once more.
"I will return to the other raft," Glenwing smiled. "We should be nearing Hedarth soon." Arya inclined her head to her companion, and Eragon watched the elf jump easily across the gap between the rafts.
They continued on down the river, the hours passing by surprisingly quickly. Arya was content to spend time with the dragon, who had taken to standing on the railing of the raft and watching Saphira as she swam. The dwarves kept up a constant chatter, and every so often Eragon would join them. Mostly they spoke of home, and Eragon would ask of events that happened while he was away. Orik told him how his own parents succumbed to the pox, and how Hrothgar eventually adopted him. The others told him of their own journeys, even as they gently guided the raft down the river.
He was content to listen, always still eager to learn more about the world around him. When they reached Hedarth, the outpost the dwarves used to trade with the elves, Orik traded the rafts for some donkeys. Eragon and the elves refused, and Arya said fiercely, "I will not return to my people on the back of a mule."
As Orik saddled his mount, Eragon and the others bid farewell to their guides. The dwarves bowed to them, and Eragon helped Glenwing secure Fäolin's remains to the horse. If anything, the horse seemed the most eager of all of them to be on dry land again.
When they exited the small town, Eragon turned to Arya. The dragon was laying across her shoulders, his tail wrapping around Arya's arm. "Running with him will be difficult," Eragon said, "If you wish, you and the hatchling can fly with Saphira. I'm sure he will enjoy the sensation."
The hatchling's gaze turned to Saphira at his words, bouncing excitedly on Arya. The elf considered Eragon, before softening as she gazed at the green dragon. After a fashion, the elf nodded, "So long as it is fine with Saphira, then thank you."
Saphira snorted, a massive plume of smoke escaping her nostrils. The green dragon squeaked from his perch on Arya, a much smaller plum rising that drew a chuckle from Eragon. It was my idea, Saphira offered.
Arya nodded, thanking the dragon. She climbed into the saddle, and Eragon briefly showed her the straps that he used to secure himself to the saddle, as well as how to undue them quickly. Before Saphira took off, Eragon said, "Be sure to hold his wings down. The wind will pull at them, and he is much too young to be flying so high by himself."
She did as he said, holding the hatchling tight to her body. The dragon squirmed in her grasp, before calming as Saphira opened her wings. He waved at them as Saphira jumped, her powerful wings forcing the air to her bidding.
Orik rode his donkey, and Eragon tried to not out pace him. Glenwing kept a steady run up next to the horse, the stallion no longer being led by the tack. Eragon figured the elf was guiding it with his mind, as the horse never left the elf's side. He could see Saphira above them, circling high as they continued forward.
When night fell they set up camp, and although Eragon saw Arya frequently smiling at the dragon, he noticed her posture slowly stiffen when she thought no one was looking. Glenwing was singing lightly to some birds, the small chirps filling the air around them. Orik was feasting on some of the dried meat he brought along with him, talking softly with Saphira. The sight warmed him, glad to know that there were dwarves who would speak to Saphira with the respect she deserved.
Arya was feeding the dragon scraps of meat, and he could almost see her displeasure. Saphira had felled a deer earlier, eating it away from the camp. Eragon had carved some meat from its flank, offering it to Arya to feed her dragon. He sat at her side, watching the dragon chomping at the meat eagerly.
"You seem unsettled, Arya." Eragon remarked.
She let the last piece of meat fall from her hand, the dragon catching it before it struck the ground. She wiped her hand on a damp cloth, her body rigid next to him. "Unsettled? Perhaps."
When she offered nothing else, Eragon thought for a moment about a way to distract her mind. "You know," he began, "Evandar-vor once accidently destroyed one of my woodworks during my stay in Ellesméra."
His words seemed to catch her attention, for Arya turned to him. "Oh?"
Eragon nodded, his hand rubbing at the stubble on his face. He would need to shave soon. "Aye. I was a few years into my practice, and I was working on a thin sculpture. It was to be a lantern, of sorts, with thin pieces of wood spiraling up. A light would have shown from the center, casting a pattern of shadows into its surroundings. The king visited where I was working, and he was venting about some elven politics."
He saw Arya relax slightly, the sides of her lips rising. "Long, tedious, and can tire even the best of diplomats," she deadpanned.
Eragon agreed with a smile, his eyes fixed back on the hatchling before him. The dragon was curled up in front of Arya, its tail wrapped around her leg as it rested. "He was walking around, hands flying about as he explained, and he knocked the sculpture to the ground. It broke, and the sound stunned us both."
He chuckled as he recalled the king's reaction. "We laughed after a moment, and the king repaired the lantern. He was most embarrassed by the exchange, so I gifted the sculpture to him when it was complete, so that he would always remember how ungraceful he was that day."
"I know the lantern that you speak of," Arya said quietly. "It resides in Tialdarí Hall. My… the Queen kept it with a few of Evandar Könungr's personal belongings. It is a most… interesting piece."
Eragon laughed, his hand slapping his thigh. "You didn't like it."
Arya frowned at him as though to disagree, but she paused as she took in his laughter. "It's not something I would imagine the King would have liked, no. I never asked the story behind it."
"That was half the fun," Eragon guffawed. "I presented it as a gift for him, so he couldn't exactly refuse it. Saphira and I used to laugh heavily whenever we watched the king walk by it. His face was perhaps the funniest thing I had ever seen when it would happen."
Arya's smile grew, and Eragon was heartened at sight. Whatever was distressing her, he hoped his story had helped some.
"You knew the King, Eragon, but you had never met the Queen before?" Arya asked after a moment.
"I did not know he had a mate, and I never did ask him." Eragon explained, "We were friends, but I was consumed by my thoughts for most of my stay in Ellesméra. He did speak often about wanting a child, though. If he told me of Islanzadí, I do not remember."
"I see," Arya murmured. "Elven children are rare, and for one to be born is the greatest gift that a mated pair could ever receive."
They were both quiet for a long time, each caught up in their own thoughts. Eragon considered joining Saphira were she laid next to the camp, but he did not feel tired enough yet. He wanted to ask her how she felt, but there was much on Arya's mind to consider. Fäolin loss must have been a staggering blow to her, and now she was to return to her people and reunite with her mother. Not only that, but Arya was also chosen to be last Rider, and Eragon wondered what direction her sense of duty would pull her. He imagined her that her duty to her people was strong, and the notion that she would desire her people over the Order he wanted to rebuild worried him.
He didn't know how he would feel if she did, so Eragon pushed the matter aside. Arya whispered a spell, and Eragon felt his ears pop as the ward took hold. Curious, he turned to her.
"Forgive me, Eragon." Arya whispered quietly. "I did not want my question overhead."
She plucked a piece of grass from the ground, twisting the greenery around with her fingers. "Will there be much to learn, for myself and him?"
Eragon hummed as he considered her question. "You are skilled, there is no doubt. I would imagine that The Mourning Sage will mostly focus on the bond between you and your dragon. There are also things that you must be taught, things that only a Rider should know. I can't imagine that your instruction should take very long."
Arya took another piece of grass, twisting the two in her hands lightly together. "How long did your instruction take when you first became a Rider?"
He narrowed his eyes as he recalled his own tenure under Oromis, "About ten years, I believe. I was admittedly a quick study, but my Master forced Saphira and I to endure at least that standard of time. They wanted me to understand the feeling of time, of how it would remain still for me and pass quickly for others."
"A concept hard to grasp," Arya admitted. "My people forget sometimes what it is like to live among the other races."
"And what of you, Arya?" Eragon asked. "You've spent decades among the Varden. Are you ready to return to your people now?"
"Were you?" she countered.
Eragon chuckled, the sound false even to him. "My people are gone. I-." He broke off, before smiling briefly. "I was going to say that I was all that remained, but that isn't true anymore."
"No, I suppose not." Arya admitted. She let out a breath, the sigh soft in the air. "The truth is, I am afraid."
Eragon was surprised, but not overly so. He said nothing to her statement, not knowing how to comfort her. After a few minutes, Arya scoped up the sleeping hatchling before settling down on the bed roll she spread out earlier. As she left, he felt the ward she placed fall, but Eragon remained where he was. Orik was to take the first watch, but Eragon remained awake nearly the whole night, his mind wandering.
It took them three more days of travelling before they reached the outskirts of Ceris. Saphira landed, and Arya left the hatchling with her as she ventured into the forest of the elves. The trees were massive, and Eragon could feel the ancient magic of the forest briming around him. Even Saphira seemed pleased to return, but Orik was staring at them, his apprehension clear.
Glenwing stopped beside him, a smile crossing the elf's face. "Glad to be returning?" Eragon asked.
The elf nodded, petting the horse he guided. "Aye, it's been a while. Twenty years ago, we joined Arya, after Fäolin managed to convince her. Even as joyous as an occasion as this can still be marred with sadness, though." The elf gestured at the body next to him.
Arya, for whatever reason, seemed to keep away from Fäolin, as though to gaze upon him was to bring the reality to bear. None of the travelers remarked to her about it, letting the elf grieve as she wished. Even he felt saddened by the elf's passage, and he could starkly recall the battle every time he gazed upon the linen wrapped figure. He could still see the blade of Durza falling, too slow to save the elf. Fäolin and Eragon's relationship was contentious at best, but Eragon did not dislike the elf and mourned his loss.
It was the consequence of war, to live on as others around you perished.
He cast his thoughts away, his eyes tracking Arya as she stopped before the forest. She raised her right hand, calling out in the ancient language. She was so far away that not even he could hear her words, but he did manage to hear a reply from the forest, faint as it was.
Arya nodded her head and replied, and Eragon watched as two elves emerged from the forest. They danced around Arya, singing happily as they greeted her. It took him a moment to realize that they were Nari and Lifaen, the two elves who guided Eragon and Saphira when they first returned.
Arya said something to them, and motioned back at the Eragon's group. The elves cast their gaze, freezing momentarily. He saw worry briefly shine out on Arya's face, but he heard Lifaen cry out, racing to join Eragon.
Nari followed behind him, and Arya slowly made her way back to the group, her posture still stiff. Lifaen reached them first, and placing two fingers to his lips as he greeted Saphira and Eragon first.
"Shadeslayer, Saphira Bjartskular, we welcome you back to Du Weldenvarden." Lifaen said, bowing to them. "We are most happy to see you again, and glad that you have returned to us unharmed."
"Thank you, Lifaen and Nari. This is Orik," Eragon said, motioning to the dwarf. "Of the Dûrgrimst Ingeitum."
Orik was watching them, his eyes wary. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
They greeted him, smiles on their faces like they shared a hidden joke. They greeted Glenwing as well, their forms more polite and reserved.
"Come, come!" Lifaen gestured.
The hatchling had chosen that moment to leap down off of Saphira's wide back, landing lightly on grass with his wings spread to slow his fall. The other elves froze, their hands moving to their weapons. Lifaen was holding a bow, but Nari was holding a spear, and Saphira growled at them in warning.
Arya stepped in front of the hatchling, who squeaked out his protest at being shielded, "Peace, please. He means you no harm."
The two elves glanced between Arya and the hatchling, silence raining down on the group. Eragon patted Saphira gently, easing her aggression.
"You, Arya? Did he hatch for you?" Nari asked, disbelief on her features.
The princess's features were stiff, but she nodded her head. The two elves cheered, dancing around, clasping her shoulders in their jubilation. Glenwing was smiling as well, but the others remained waiting for the elves to calm. The hatchling was watching the pair, his curious amber eyes taking in their movements.
"I must ask that you keep this to yourselves," Arya commanded. "The Queen should be the first to hear of it."
They bowed their heads, murmuring their understanding. Lifaen turned, motioning them to follow him to Ceris. They did, and Eragon asked the elf, "Where are your companions, Laufin and Wydren?"
"They returned to Ellesméra; their duty here complete." Lifaen said briefly. The elf said no more, but Eragon was used to the customs of the elves. The elf led the group to the small huts that made up their outpost, pointing to one that the group could use. They were morose when Glenwing told them quietly of Fäolin, and they helped the elf retrieve their fallen comrade from the horse's back.
Arya's eyes were trailing on Fäolin's wrapped form now, her expression unreadable. The dragon was squeaking at her from the ground, so Eragon stepped into her line of sight. When she blinked at him, Eragon said, "Come, let us rest. We still have far to travel, and I'm sure the hatchling is hungry."
The green dragon squeaked its approval, already a few inches taller than he was since he hatched. He was still small enough for Arya to carry in her arms, but Eragon knew how fast dragons could grow. By the time they reached Ellesméra, the male would easily be waist height.
Orik pushed passed them into the hut, muttering under his breath about elves. Eragon ignored him, watching as Saphira laid down outside their temporary housing. She blinked at him, and Eragon smiled as he felt a rush of affection towards her.
It feels like it was yesterday that you were that small, Eragon said.
Saphira sniffed, turning her head away from him, I was never that small.
Eragon laughed, pressing a kiss to her snout before following the others inside. Even inside he could hear her humming. It wasn't long before Glenwing joined them, and the two elves reappeared with various fruits and vegetables for the guests.
Eragon thanked them, though Orik seemed put out by the lack of meat. Arya and Glenwing were eating silently, so Eragon took an apple and sat next to the dwarf. Lifaen and Nari sat across from them, eagerly watching the green hatchling as he roamed the huts interior.
"When we get to Ellesméra," Eragon said quietly to the dwarf, "You cannot eat meat. I can ask if they will allow you to hunt on occasion, but do not be surprised if they tell you to not waste any part of the animal."
The dwarf sighed, "Elves. How they can eat just fruits and vegetables is beyond me."
Eragon listened as Lifaen spoke to Arya, the elf's words low. They were asking after her travels, as well as how the egg had hatched for her. She explained quietly to them, but Eragon already knew the tale. Instead, he watched as the hatchling stopped before him, the amber eyes flickering over him.
He tilted his head when he felt the brush of a mind. He lowered the shields surrounding his mind, feeling the hatchling press gently against him.
Eragon, came the deep voice.
Yes, Eragon responded, that is my name.
Arya.
Blinking at the dragon, Eragon considered the elf in question. She was still speaking, though her posture was still stiff. If she held the countenance for much longer, Eragon feared she would always remain thus. What of Arya?
Wryda.
Fate? His face scrunched as he considered the hatchling. Perhaps it was fate that led Arya to the dragon, but why was he telling Eragon this? Your well-spoken for one so young.
Yes.
Eragon laughed, the sound surprising the others. Were all dragon hatchlings always so sarcastic? Even Saphira made him laugh often when she was young. Was there something else you needed, young one?
An image of Saphira appeared in the hatchlings mind, her blue scales tinted green from the dragon's eyes. What of Saphira?
Another passed image came, this time showing the hatchling standing beside her. Ah, Eragon replied, it will take you a long time to reach her size. Although, when you are old enough to breath fire, you will be considered fully matured.
The thought of breathing fire seemed to entrance the youngling, so Eragon showed him a memory of Saphira's blue flame.
Another. Eragon smiled at the green dragon, but instead of one of just Saphira, Eragon showed him an image from when he was younger. It was of a wild dragon, the large maroon colored dragon breathing out a flame that seemed to blot out the sun.
The hatchling hummed, and he could feel gratitude from the young dragon. The hatchling withdrew from his mind, preoccupied with the images Eragon had shown him. Eragon glanced up at the others as he started to eat, catching Arya's gaze on his own. Her eyes fell to the hatchling, a small smile gracing her features.
Eragon wondered when the young dragon would choose a name, now that he seemed to understand language better. Sometimes the dragons would pick a name quickly, other times they would deeply consider the matter before choosing. It also wasn't too uncommon for dragons to decide to change their name, but so far Saphira had declined to do so.
They rested early that evening, and Lifaen told him that they would continue their journey up the Eldor lake on rafts, then continue on the Gaena River till they reached Sílthrim.
The next morning, they loaded onto two of the white rafts the elves used, sang from birch trees. Lifaen, Arya and Eragon loaded into one of the long canoes, while Nari, Glenwing, Orik were to travel by the second. The elves had used a floating board for Fäolin, tied to the end of the second canoe. The board, he figured, was used to move cargo or anything too big for the canoes.
The elves pushed off, letting the canoe be pulled along by the river currents. Saphira swam next to them while the elves watched her. The hatchling was squeaking from the canoe, and every so often the young dragon would swim next to Saphira, but he grew quickly tired trying to keep up with the larger dragon.
Within a few short hours they were on the Gaena River, the elves paddling gently along. Most of the time they were silent, but every so often Orik would ask various questions of the elves that lived in Du Weldenvarden and their history. When the story of Evandar came up, Arya stiffened slightly in front of him, and he heard Nari pause in her speech.
When Eragon grew tired of the silence, he glanced forward at Arya, only to see two amber eyes staring back at him. "Has he chosen a name?"
Though Eragon didn't address her, Arya still knew the question was meant for her, "I've told him a few so far, but he hasn't made a decision yet."
"That's alright," Eragon responded, "I must have told Saphira about two dozen names before I realized she was a female."
Arya turned her head and smiled lightly at him, but when she turned around he could almost see her worry reappear. The journey took a detour over land, and Eragon laughed when Lifaen had fit when Saphira offered to carry their bags. Saphira, upon being told that it would be a dishonor, simply hooked one of her talons through the loops and took off. Arya laughed loudly, and even Orik chuckled at the sight.
They came upon Sílthrim within the day, but Arya made them bank on the riverside and set up camp for the night. The group was sitting around the camp, when he heard the faint call of an elven voice in the distance, the woman's voice soft in the whispering wind. It was when others joined in that Eragon sat up and turned to Arya, "Arya, the Dagshelgr!"
Arya cursed, whispering wards quickly from her mouth. Orik had jumped up, but Glenwing had grabbed the dwarf, wrestling him to the ground. Glenwing invoke the spell over Orik, watching as the dwarf yelled, "Gerr'off me!"
"Your pardon, Orik, but I could not let you be swayed by the magic." Glenwing apologized. Orik made the speak, but Eragon heard a growl rise up from beside him.
He could feel Saphira through their bond, and the fire that was coursing through her veins. The hatchling was facing her, ready to pounce, and Saphira raised up a foreleg as she continued to growl. Eragon's feet were moving before he realized what was going to happen. Saphira swung her paw sideways, and Eragon dove. Her claws raked against his back as he grabbed the hatchling in his arms, the power of Saphira's strike sending Eragon flying.
For a precious moment he could feel the wind on him stream by, as well as the dragon squirming in his grip before he tumbled across the ground. Eragon tried to twist his body to the side, only for his breath to leave him as he finally slammed into a tree. He heard a faint pop, and Eragon didn't know if it was his body or the wards he normally kept about his person that gave up. Pain erupted down his back and side, and he could hear voicing yelling distantly as he tried to catch his breath.
His vision flickered briefly before slowly restoring, his grip now lax on the smaller dragon. He felt it pull away from him, squeaking madly as it went. Footsteps came and the dragon quieted, and Eragon tried to pull himself way from the tree. A hand touched his head, and Eragon turned to see startling green eyes peering at him filled with worry.
"Ow." Eragon said. He felt some of his strength return, letting Arya help him as he tried to stand. When she glanced at his back, he asked, "How bad is it?"
"Not as bad as I feared," Arya admitted, though her voice shook slightly as she talked. "It looks like your wards absorbed most of the blow."
He could feel the wounds in his back prevent him from twisting around. From what he could feel, it felt like only a few of Saphira's claws contacted his actual skin, and even then it did not feel worryingly deep. Arya started to whisper a spell, and Eragon nearly moaned in relief when the pain subsided somewhat.
She was still healing him when he saw Saphira approach him, both her torso and head low to the ground. She was walking forward slowly, her movements careful and her sapphire-colored eyes gazing at him in remorse. Her mind tentatively touched his, the press light as though she feared wounding him further.
Little one…
"It's alright, Saphira." Eragon said, his voice gruff with the pain. He could feel her guilt that she injured him, and never in his life had he seen Saphira appear so vulnerable and submissive.
It's not alright! I nearly killed you!
"But you didn't. I'll be fine after Arya finishes healing me." Eragon replied. He could feel the wounds knitting together on his back, the tightness of flesh a familiar feeling to him. He peered at Arya, only to find that she was sweating profusely and pale.
"Help Arya, Saphira." Eragon whispered. He felt the dragon reach out, watching as Arya's complexion return to normal as Saphira poured energy into the elf. Eragon heard footsteps approaching him, as well as Orik speaking lightly to one of the elves.
Glancing up, Eragon saw that Glenwing was making his way towards them, the hatchling close behind. Worry began to fill Eragon, but Glenwing shook his head. "The dragon is unharmed. He was still under the Dagshelgr, but I warded him and Orik from the spell."
"Good," Eragon said. He saw Glenwing step up beside him, the elf's hand reaching out toward Eragon's back. The elf began to heal his back as well, and Eragon sighed.
It took them nearly a full five minutes until they finished, and when he reached around to feel his back he was only met with skin. His back was still tight and his side ached, but Eragon felt immensely better.
Saphira was still low, her eyes locked onto Eragon. Arya rested against one of the trees, her chest heaving as she tried to calm her breath. Glenwing sat down next to Eragon, the rustling of leaves echoing around him loudly.
"That was reckless," Arya eventually said. "To jump in front of a dragon like that was perhaps the most idiotic thing I have ever seen you do."
Saphira snorted, but made no comment. After a moment Arya turned her gaze to him, her eyes softening, "But thank you. If Saphira would have hit…"
He nodded, knowing how she meant to finish. If Saphira would have hit the hatchling, it may have very will killed the young dragon.
"I know the Dagshelgr can affect even the dragons, but I've never seen…" Glenwing trailed off.
Eragon locked his eyes with Saphira, watching her. The fire in her veins was gone now, replaced only by a sense of shame. He wanted to speak to her privately, but he knew he needed to explain to the others. "Dragon mating can be," Eragon paused as he thought of a word, "violent. The hatchling is too young to know what to do, but the magic must have pulled at his instincts."
"And Saphira?" Arya asked. She glanced over at the larger dragon; her eyebrows turned down.
"The same of her," Eragon explained, "She should not have been affected so much from the magic… But the swipe was meant as a denial of sorts. The hatchling is too young for her."
Glenwing cleared his throat from the ground, his voice light, "You seem to know a lot about dragon mating rituals."
Eragon smiled slightly. "It happens when your partner is a female, and considered one of the greatest flyers among the dragons."
Saphira interrupted by turning her head slowly towards Arya. The dragon's movements were slow, and he felt Saphira's mind reach out. I am sorry, Arya Svit-kona. I did not mean to harm the hatchling. I-.
Arya held up her hand, silencing the dragon. The elf's expression had relaxed slightly, though he could still see that she was bothered by the events. "He is unharmed, and I ask that we speak of this later."
The dragon agreed, turning her head back to Eragon. "I'll join up with you in a minute," he said to the two elves. "Make sure that Orik is alright, please."
They nodded, turning back to the camp. Eragon approached Saphira, his hand coming up to rest on her snout. I'm okay, Saphira.
I hurt you, little one. A dragon should never hurt her Rider. I have shamed our bond, and I will never be able to undo what I have done.
Saphira, I knew what was going to happen when I jumped in front of the hatchling. If you need it, you have my forgiveness. I know your feelings; you do not need to explain them, not to me.
Eragon pressed his mind into Saphira's, merging their consciousness into one. He could feel her guilt more acutely, and but Eragon made sure she could feel his love, and that he was not angry at her. He spent some time with her, calming her worry. When they separated, Saphira huffed out at him, she was right.
Who?
Arya, Saphira explained, when she called you an idiot.
Well, you already knew that, Eragon jested. Her chest rumbled slightly with her laughter. I don't think she's that upset with you, but you know how protective the bond between Rider and dragon is.
She's not just upset with me because I almost hit the green-young-one. Arya is mostly upset because I hurt you. And because of how reckless you were.
Do you want me to talk to her? I know how you much you like Arya.
No, little-one. Saphira replied. I will talk to her, I promise.
The dragon blinked at him, mirth rising in her voice, I am not the only one who likes the elf.
Eragon sighed.