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SNAP! Saphira nipped the unsuspecting intruder and watched with irritation as the frightened bittern squawked then flew away in a cloud of plumage. With a snort she rested her head back upon her claws and thought.

Lucky for you I'm not hungry pesky fowl! I never miss my intended prey!

It was early afternoon, a blazing sun shone high in the sky which was of a deep azure, specked with white clouds carried lazily by the wind, a perfect day for napping. Saphira; however, was in no mood. For all she cared the day could have been cold, windy and callous. Thoughts of napping far from her as bitter memories of the evening before threatened.

She lay on the embankment, looking wistfully at the blackened patch of ground just before her. Breathing deeply, her nostrils flared, filling her with the remnants of Eragon's scent; which, although days old, was still detectable to her draconic sense of smell. It was not as the draconic air he'd wafted the evening before but was still familiar, stirring memories of the time she'd spent with him just days prior, the morning she'd felt his attraction towards her. Although she hadn't expected the flush she'd been pleased all the same. It'd been the first, clear indication that he was developing feelings for her. A tangible sign that fate's plan was working in him as well as her, giving her hope that she would eventually win him over as her mate.

Following her confession, she'd understood his need to take time in considering their future together. He'd seemed somewhat amiable to the idea, at first; enough, at least, to offer her the promise that he would consider the matter carefully before reaching a decision. A decision she now feared would never come.

Before taking flight she'd remained hopeful that his coming decision would be favorable, leaving him to accept her as his mate; however, the breeze that'd blown, carrying the unexpected draconic scent from him, had left her suddenly drunk - as if by some love spell - with intense desire. Unable to repress it, she'd advanced upon him, circling until she'd moved to stand so close that her hot breath brushed his face. In the spell's final moments she'd thought - from his behavior - that the reward of her diligence and patience had finally paid off. Eragon had willingly responded to her, or so it seemed. Placing his hand on her snout, he'd matched her gaze with eyes full of desire; growled as if he were a love-struck dragon, and even responded to her call - the love song she'd sung over the previous days - joining with her for a brief and beautiful moment; a moment she wished had never ended. It'd been exquisite and in that moment she'd believed that they were at last of like mind and heart. But now it seemed for naught as cold regret and confusion stifled her budding hopes. She'd felt, as if waking from a dream, the stark reality of a bitter truth; none of it had not come from him. Moreover, he'd not even remembered the intense, emotional exchange that'd passed between them in that one, brief moment. Instead he'd behaved as if he didn't even know her, as if she'd been someone else, some kind of a monster bent on harming him.

She keened, releasing a plaintive whimper. Oh Eragon, my mate! Why do you not trust me? Why do you deny me?

Eragon's callous response, that'd forced her leave, had shocked and hurt her in a way she'd never again thought possible. Never before had he exhibited such a display of fear, anger and distrust towards her. It'd left her spurned and confused, just as she'd felt following Glaedr's rejection; however, this time it'd come from Eragon, this time there was no one to offer her warm words of encouragement and comfort.

She'd kept her thoughts and feelings barred from him only just until her flight had carried her beyond the threshold of their connection. The moment his consciousness faded from her mind she'd loosed an out pour of pent anguish in a woeful keen at what could be lost to her again, this time before it even began. Her fit lasted most of the night until, as if by themselves, her wings carried her to the one place she'd last felt hope concerning their future as mates. There she'd found a dreamless sleep until the sun peeked over the distant horizon, drifting upwards to where it now rested in the sky.

Since the day she chose to trust that fate would find a way she'd been confident that her resolve would be strong enough to withstand any upset from Eragon that followed upon learning the news, no matter how rash. Moreover, she'd been confident in her ability to restrain herself no matter how far her desire peaked. Whether blinded by pride or lack of experience it'd appeared she had underestimated the depths of her desire for him, and the sting of his denial. A dark feeling suddenly washed over her. She remembered Glaedr's words, drawing forth a cold fear that the subject of his warning might indeed come to pass; that her passion might get the better of her, driving Eragon away from her, resulting in her loss of him as mate and rider alike. She raised her head, releasing a plaintive roar to the sky.

Eragon, please don't deny me! Can't you see that I love you! Can't you see that my heart burns for you like no other! Can't you see we are destined to be together!

With a final, waning keen, she lowered her head, whimpering as it lay on the sand where her eyes closed, body shuddering with a sudden, chill wave that passed over her. Releasing another plaintive whimper, she rubbed her chin into the spot where Eragon had once been, a paw reaching up to rub into the sand as she sprawled, sighing with a deep, pining sorrow. She welcomed sleep, a sleep that might bring with it dreams of her and Eragon together, at least she could have those. But they were dreams that would never come.

A glitter formed at the corner of one eye as a single tear emerged, hardening then dropping to the ground where it a lay beside her head; a tiny, brilliantly colored sapphire sparkling in the noon-day sun. She twitched, her body shuddering as another wave of cold passed over her. The inner flame that burned for him flared then dimmed, her once brightly colored scales paling, fading with a coming fog that began to envelop her mind.

A short while later the tear, laying beside her, twitched; then, rising into the air, drifted a short distance ahead of Saphira's sleeping form where it came to rest in the outstretched palm of an onyx paw. With wistful eyes Ar'Din rested on his haunches and stared in silence at the enchanted tear as his wings drooped in sorrow for the ailing dragoness before him. Wrapping his talons around the jewel, he lifted his head to the sky, staring intently as if in beseech of a power greater than himself. After what seemed like hours his eyes flared in a brilliant, sapphire flash. Raising his wings above his head, he released a low, trembling growl; then, looking back down at Saphira, nodded his head in acknowledgement to the silent reply.

Then it is time I speak with him again. It is time to reveal to him the true origins of what are now his ancestors. Time to tell him of the home destined to him. It is time to reveal to him the full extent of his destiny and the true meaning of the prophecy given him by the witch Angela.

Ar'Din nodded again.

Aye, if he persists in his foolishness after learning of the other then, regrettably, he must be told of the madness that will take her. He must be reminded that her heart burns for him. He must be told that it cannot burn without him for long. He must be made to understand that her heart must be joined to its one and only match. He must be made to understand her heart cannot burn alone.