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Eragon winced as his tongue inadvertently brushed against the tender, exposed skin of the bloodied scrape along his left shoulder. The moment he'd alighted on the plateau he'd immediately tended it, remembering from his draconic memories that dragon saliva contained, among other things, compounds that numbed and sterilized open wounds. He resumed cleaning the stinging wound, albeit more carefully, all the while thinking himself foolish for not paying closer attention to his surroundings. He'd arrived only moments earlier, discovering simply by chance the large, flat plateau jutting out from one of the jagged peaks as he circled high above them. When he'd chosen to land he'd not taken into account the sudden and often intense micro-drafts that usually occurred at such high altitudes. One such draft caught him by surprise, catching under his right wing, thus slamming him into a nearby outcropping of jagged stone. In retrospect he could have suffered worse. He'd been dazed afterwards but the scrape on his shoulder had been the only real injury he'd suffered; save, perhaps, his pride.

Finishing up, he walked to the edge of the plateau and sat. From there he surveyed all that was below, panning his gaze slowly over the expanse of grass strewn clearings and crop-filled fields, inlaid with patches of dark, thick forest. The Pree exited from the base of the mountains, snaking its way into the distance. Its destination the same as his, the sea that awaited him. The destiny beyond its shores calling to him. The sun appeared as a brilliant orange orb suspended against the back-drop of a deep blue sky. Its light shown on him, causing his amethyst and sapphire scales to sparkle and glitter, brilliantly. He flared his wings, standing proud - the dragon that he was, while his talons clenched the rocky edge, flaking off pieces of the eroding stone to fall to the seemingly endless pit far below. His tail twitched, anticipation filling him as he looked ahead to tonight when he would take Saphira, his mate. But where? Where would he choose to take her? It had to be somewhere special and memorable, he decided. For whether dragon or human Saphira would be his first

--And only.

He smiled to himself, narrowing his eyes affectionately at the thought. In a way it was her first as well. Neither of them had known the other in a way that he planned to know her tonight. Aye, the moment was deserving of a special place. But again: Where?

Eragon whipped his tail then furled his wings and stood. He snorted, expelling a stream of mist from each nostril then turned about and began to walk to the other end of the plateau; where he could enjoy a brief look over the valley before returning to his clearing, and his Saphira. As he walked, he began to take careful notice of the plateau. An idea began to form, taking shape with each step he took. It was large and wide. Large enough in fact to accommodate a host of dragons his size. It was also quite flat, with an occasional slant or outcropping. Perfect for--

He paused, smiling to himself.

Why not?

He then nodded, pivoting full circle to survey the rocky surface in its entirety.

It's perfect! It will be just us! Me and her under the stars, atop the world. Just as it should be for a dragon!

Growling with satisfaction, he added. We can even watch the sunset, before I--

His body wriggled at the break in thought. A shiver passed over him as it drifted suddenly to tonight. He rolled his head then paused to clear his mind; then, looking to a spot near the edge, was filled with a sudden excitement.

Right there. Aye, there ... there I will have her, and give her all of who I am.

He thought, nodding in approval as his excitement blossomed. He smiled wider, utterly pleased with his decision. Afterwards, he continued on and reached the other edge a moment later then sat, taking in the view, and eagerly began to consider plans for the remainder of the day. This would be her day. A day where he would court her. He would show her how much he loved her, how much he cared for her, and how much she meant to him. Aye, a special day it would be, and as such, needed special moments, acts, gestures. But what might Saphira consider 'special?'

He knew what customs human females considered special. And was well aware of the difference between behaviors that rewarded a potential suitor with warm affection, to those that ended the courtship before it even started; a cold slap in the face or worse. He shuddered at the thought of just how Saphira might repay him for an inappropriate gesture. Offending a dragoness was not a matter to be taken lightly, especially in matters of courtship. He rolled his head, clearing his mind of the thought and moved on to his previous train.

What might Saphira consider special? She's a dragon, not human. He asked himself.

Of course, he already knew the manner in which Saphira would have him court her. His brief witness of the display between her and Fírnen (not to mention those from dragons past contained within his ancestral memories) made that fact all-to-clear to him. He also knew himself capable, and willing, of engaging her in true draconic fashion, with its play of course vocalizations, inter-mixed with attacks of passion that were often abrupt and ferocious. By human standards it was quite brutal, frightening even; however, given his new draconic sensibilities, he now found it possessed a compelling beauty about it, in its own draconic way. The thought of it elicited an involuntary twitch of his tail, followed by a low growl that echoed across the summits. He'd time to witness the act multiple times while browsing his ancestral memories, during the remainder of his flight to the mountains. He found them helpful in preparation for the moment when he would do the same. It was, he knew, their way, his way as much as hers. It was a dance as ancient as the dragon race itself. And he now looked forward to it. To partake in it. He would dance with his mate just as bull dragons before him danced with theirs. Aye, he would dance with his Saphira. Given the instincts coursing through him he knew that, in the final stage of courtship, he would take her as a dragon, letting his human sensibilities give way to the fiery draconic passions surging through him as they peaked.

He forced a knowing smile, flashing a glance at the wound along his shoulder as he crouched. It twitched as he swiveled his head to look over the valley. The sudden memory of Saphira and Fírnen's return to the plain - that day with Arya - flashed through his mind. The first thing he'd noticed was the bloodied bite mark on Fírnen's shoulder. He'd pressed his lips together tightly in reaction to the sight; both troubled by it, and thankful that he'd not been there to witness what must have been a frightening display. It'd been difficult for him to picture Saphira - his closest friend - engaging in such ... brutality. But, then again, she was a dragon. What had he expected? Shaking his head, he couldn't help but smile wider at the irony. Back then he'd thought himself fortunate that he wasn't a dragon, but now look at him. He was a dragon, and about to engage in the very same acts that'd troubled him back then. Only this time, he was far from being troubled by it. He knew without doubt that before the night was over he would have wounds similar to the one on his shoulder, in other places along his body. Each inflicted by claw or fang. But certainly not by cold, jagged stone. Aye, he would dance with her. For her he could do no less. For her he would hold nothing back.

He would take her in the manner she expected of him, but he did not want rush it. No. He desired to begin his courtship of her slowly and gently, letting each moment -- each well-placed gesture -- build upon the next. He--

Eragon was pulled from deep thought as his keen draconic vision caught a stir of movement from one of the clearings far below. Upon closer inspection he discovered it was a small herd of deer.

Hmmm. I think I know one thing she might find special.

He began, readying himself to take flight.

Breakfast! Delivered by her mate!

Smacking his chops, he paused to consider, then added.

For now, just this. I'll have to improvise on the rest later.

At that, he whipped his tail then flared his wings, narrowing his eyes with intent, then leapt clear of the edge - into the morning sky - and roared his intent as he gained height. With eyes fixed, he banked towards the unsuspecting herd, readying himself for his first hunt as a dragon.

---

A light fog settled over the clearing as the sun-warmed air mixed with that hovering low over the cool, dew-laden ground. Saphira's eyelids clenched tighter as rays from the rising sun peaked first over the summits of the eastern mountains, and then over the tree tops surrounding the clearing. A chill passed over her as a cool morning breeze blew by, rustling the reeds of tall grass that surrounded her. She shivered, edging back a bit to press against the warm body of her mate. But none was there. She opened her eyes, lazily shuffling her head along the ground to see why no warmth was to be had. Eragon was gone.

She sighed, dropping her head to the ground, reluctant to rise from what had been a pleasant, dream-filled sleep. Again she'd had the dream, just as she'd had the night before, and the night before that. Her and Eragon engaging in the most ancient of rites given to dragons. To all creation.

A faint smile crept across her face, a soft rumble sounding from deep within her chest as she reveled in the fading image of her and Eragon joined at long last, as was always meant to be. But it had only been a dream, just like the others. Her smile faded and the rumbling silenced, replaced with another sigh. She wondered if the dream would ever come to pass, if Eragon would ever get over his difficulties. Eragon was her mate and, although this was his second day as a dragon, she was confused and hurt that he would deny his own draconic instincts and clear desire for her. She'd felt the intensity of it the day before. But he'd held back. Why?

All he did was make it difficult for them both. Moreover was her reaction. Even though Eragon was still adjusting to the intense feelings and sensations of his new body, her instincts swelled, urging her to express her dissatisfaction by attacking him. In the moment he pulled away she'd felt the rush of Glaedr's rejection all over again, compelling her to assert her desire for him and make him take her. This was her way, a dragoness' way. But she didn't, and this confused too.

Nay. Instead she'd summoned strength (from where she knew not) and stood fast, barring her thoughts from him that he might be spared the depth and intensity of her pain. But such sentiment had no place amongst dragons. When he was human, perhaps. But Eragon was no longer human. And she, she was no longer the dragon of a Rider. The pull of human sensibilities she'd inherited from him through their bond - grew weaker, at times; overshadowed by those of her true ancestry. A breeding ground to endless contradiction. She was a wild dragon now, a queen of wild dragons. Ever since the day her and Eragon were no longer dragon and Rider, the call of wild dragons pulled at her, only to increase the moment his transformation completed. As such she should not have let him off so easily. It was simply not a dragon's way. No ... it ... it was more akin to ... a human's?

BAH!

He was a dragon for heaven's sake! And yet still as human as ever! She snorted with disdain, wishing in that moment that he'd retained none of his human sensibilities. What did he need them for? He was a wild dragon now. A king of wild dragons. What need did a wild dragon have of human sensibility?

A low growl escaped her as she rolled her head to get comfortable. Then she sighed and blinked, lazily. Like it or not she realized that despite his 'difficulties' she would never make good on her threat.

Nay. She knew deep down - despite its contradiction to the wild dragon's nature pulling at her - that she would wait for him to make the next move, however long it took; all the while hoping that he wouldn't take too long. Aye. It was a contradiction indeed, leaving her both at peace and unsettled.

Another chill passed through her. When she thought about it she wasn't even sure if her willingness to wait was born more out of patience and devotion to him, or more from the fear of what she might do if he turned away from yet another attempt to engage her in the way of draconic courtship. She desired him like no other and she did not wish to put the limits of her restraint to the test again.

Eragon was not Fírnen, nor Glaedr. He was her one true mate, destined to her before he was even born, making her want him more than any other. And when her memory was unveiled concerning the prophecy the full measure of her desire pent in separation from him came with it. To her it was an injustice, unmatched by the previous prospects fate had taken from her. A life time she'd waited for him. Now at long last he was pledged to her, a dragon. And oh so close. But still she could not have him!

Saphira let loose a muffled, pining yowl, thrashing her tail. A short-lived fit as her budding frustration and anger was soon squelched, replaced by desperate questioning. What was wrong with him? This was not the way of dragons. He was not behaving in the way every fiber of her being screamed he should be. When he was still in human form she could more easily overlook such offense, but he wasn't human anymore--

He was a dragon! And he was hers! Why could she not have him?!

A question that now troubled her to no end. Ever since the day he accepted her as his mate, pledged himself as hers, and then learned he was to be a dragon, she'd needed him to finalize their union. If it hadn't been for the fact that he'd not yet assumed the form of a dragon she would've taken him herself. Instead she'd managed restraint, managed to acquiesce to his human sensibilities, knowing full well that even then he'd possessed the fire of a dragon, faint as it may have been.

He'd not known how hard it'd been for her to exercise restraint as each opportunity to have him presented itself only to be thwarted each and every time. But now his human form was gone, the barrier lifted, and oh how she desired him. Needed him. She shuddered, and then with a growl, cleared her mind of the thoughts. The simple, undeniable fact settled on her. He wasn't ready and there was no telling when he would be.

No sense dwelling on it.

She thought, rising quickly to her feet and arching her back in a stretch.

Like it or not I must wait until he is ready.

She paused, then looking down, whimpered.

I just hope I won't have to wait much longer.

Standing straight, she swiveled her head, panning the clearing while sniffing the morning air for his whereabouts.

Where is he anyway? It's not like him to just leave.

Snorting, she turned about and walked to a thicket of trees lining the clearing's edge where she relieved herself. While walking back, she was hit with Eragon's scent, so veered towards it. Moments later she found herself at the very spot he lay, following his transformation. The ground was still matted, but she lowered her head and sniffed.

He was here recently.

She thought, lifting her head to catch sight of what had been scribed into the ground. Cocking her head, she stared at the phrase he'd written.

Now what __would've_ compelled him to write that?_

She thought, righting her head. As she read it a sudden conviction came over her. Had she forgotten what it meant? Moreover, had its meaning changed, or vanished, now that they were no longer dragon and Rider? Her scales ruffled as another chill passed through her. Abruptly her head swiveled to the side, her gaze shying away from the phrase as regret settled on her. A contradiction.

I was too hard on him. Moved too fast for him.

She thought, crouching low as though the weight of her regret pressed down upon her back. She wrapped her tail around her body as she silently pondered the questions, glancing back, every-so-often, to the phrase then away again. Eventually her eyes softened and her gaze narrowed, revealing a change from cold regret to warm regard and deep affection.

Nay. It's not vanished, but it has changed.

She decided, shaking her head. With a soft sigh she looked back to the phrase and paused to regard it once more. Then, reaching over with her nearest paw, gently rested it atop the phrase, as if to swear by it.

My Eragon, my mate. I love you with all my heart and will wait as long as you need me to. To give you time until you are truly ready to make me yours, and give yourself fully to me. But for now, I have you in all ways that matter. Time, nor anything else, cannot take that away from me. Not even fate itself. For now it is enough.

Her eyes closed as if to confirm her words and a quiet peace settled over her. Despite her new found resolve; however, her desire's intensity would remain unscathed, augmented by the call of a wild dragon growing in her. Nay. It would remain, testing her limits whenever he was near. A thorn in her side, a silent pain she would endeavor to hide from him. There it would remain until Eragon chose to pluck it out and heal her.

Not long after, she was roused from her thoughts by the distinct sound of flapping wings; faint at first, but growing louder with each passing moment. She opened her eyes and swiveled her head, looking to the sky it search of its source. Her eyes widened at the familiar form fast approaching. Eragon was returning from his trip with what appeared to be the spoils of a successful--

Hunt?!

---

The tall, brown grass bent under the fierce down-draft created by Eragon's wings as he came into a not-so-soft landing near Saphira. Touching down, momentum carried him as he stumbled over the deer that'd been clutched in his right paw; his scaled belly brushing it as he passed over. He managed to only just catch himself before falling. Twice today he'd escaped injury, but his draconic pride was none the better for it. With a snort he came to an abrupt halt just in front of Saphira, the tattered lower half of another deer held tightly between his jaws. Tattered flesh and the remnants of bloodied entrails swayed from the severed carcass dangling from the side of Eragon's maw. A bloodied scrape ran along his left shoulder, the scales surrounding the exposed skin scathed and twisted and stained with dried blood. Saphira stood, pivoting her body to face him. She remained silent, dumbfounded at the sight before her. Eragon lowered his wings, letting them drape loosely over the ground, then growled in irritation at his less-than-perfect landing and looked away from her. He crouched slightly, eliciting a hiss as his face winced in pain from the scrape along his shoulder. The movement opened a fresh tear in the blood-crusted flesh, causing thick, dark-red blood to seep from it. Carefully he set the tattered half-carcass down then turned attention to his wound. He tentatively sniffed it then carefully licked around the outer edges, working his way to the tender, exposed skin; just as he'd done atop the mountains. It did not take him long and when finished he stood, folding his wings to this sides, and then turned about and gently picked up the slightly scathed - but otherwise intact - whole deer carcass, then turned about to face Saphira.

Saphira watched him intently, the entire time an expression of disbelief, mixed with a twinge of curiosity on her face. Eragon remained motionless for a moment - the carcass dangling loosely from his jaws - then lowered his gaze, approached her and slowly lowered his head to set the deer down in front of her. Saphira's gaze followed his every move, interrupted only by quick, occasional blinks. Eragon prepared to move back but then hesitated, as if to consider a sudden thought. After only a moment he smiled then lifted his head to meet her gaze. Saphira stared into his eyes and then narrowed hers in scrutiny. There was something different about his, a gleam, a fire that hadn't been there before. Desire sparked suddenly in her, but no sooner did it that she squelched it. He wasn't ready she told herself. She quickly averted her gaze. Eragon, on the other hand, regarded her with the same affectionate, yet solemn eyes; however, her sudden aversion did not go un-noticed. Smiling wider, he flicked his tongue and gently trailed it over her snout, up along her forehead. Saphira snorted in surprise, pulling away slightly as Eragon spoke, gesturing towards the deer.

For you my mate.

She looked momentarily at the deer then back to Eragon who was already moving to stand over his own meal, sparse as it was. There he stood, quietly waiting for her to begin her meal before eating his; occasionally lowering his head to smell it, before looking back to her. A long pause ensued as Saphira silently watched him. The edge of his mouth twitched as his gaze moved between her and the meal at his paws. He shifted on his fore-paws (as if battling a growing impatience) while a string of saliva formed and stretched to dangle from the back-left corner of his open maw. Finally Saphira found her voice.

Eragon. What are you doing?

His gaze shot from his meal to meet hers. He hesitated, as if unsure how to answer, then exhaled and solemnly replied.

I'm waiting for you to begin.

Saphira cocked her head.

Waiting for me to begin what? She asked, genuinely confused.

Gesturing to the deer laying before her, he replied.

Your meal, of course.

Saphira's gaze moved slowly between him and the deer several times, all the while her expression transforming as if to form a question.

But how did--

She began, but then her expression changed suddenly, from genuine question to that of genuine displeasure.

Have you lost your mind?!

Moving towards him, she continued.

You could have been badly injured, or even killed yourself! What possessed you--

She'd started to say, lowering her head with intent on tending to his wound. Eragon, on the other hand, would have none of it. He moved, edging his wounded shoulder away, out of her reach, and interrupted.

I'm fine Saphira, it's just a scrape. It's nothing to worry about. Besides, I didn't hurt it while hunting.

Then where did you--

She began, attempting to move round him - to get at the shoulder - but Eragon persisted, pivoting so that it remained out of her reach, interrupting her again.

I said don't worry about it. It's nothing. I'm fine.

Argh! The same as ever, stubborn as a Kull!

She countered, fully exasperated with him.

Stop moving so I can take a look at it!

Eragon froze then arched his tail round, bringing it between them, abruptly halting her advance. Saphira froze, then moved to stare him in the eyes, hers tinted red with anger. Eragon was silent for a moment as she looked at him. Soon his expression relaxed as he growled softly.

I'm not your little one anymore, remember? He began, and then lowered his tail.

I am a dragon now with memories and instincts to guide me, remember?

Saphira eyed him suspiciously then motioned her head as if to say something in reply then thought better of it and looked away. She'd found no fault in his words, after all he was right. She'd said it herself the day before; however, she didn't like her own words being used against her. Eragon smiled, growling softly as he brought his head closer and gently licked her across the cheek. After which he pulled away, silently regarding her before saying.

I'll be fine Saphira. It's just a scrape, nothing serious.

She snorted in reply, keeping her head turned away from him. Again he reached up with his tail, resting it against her cheek opposite him, slowly pulling her head round to look at him. Gently licking her snout, he added.

Alright?

Saphira looked at him with silent question and sighed, averting her gaze.

Alright, Eragon. You win.

Shaking his tail free of her cheek she added, with a stern look.

But don't try something like that again by yourself.

Eragon lowered his tail, laying it back on the ground, and bowed his head.

I won't, I promise. He began, then gesturing to the deer he'd brought for her, added.

Now. I'm not beginning my meal until __you've_ started yours. Will you please go and eat, so that I can? My stomach's been rumbling all morning._

Saphira looked at his meal and asked.

That __isn't_ much of a meal. It looks as if half of it was torn away. How did that happen?_

It's a long story and not important right now. Please, go eat Saphira. Eragon huffed, clearly irritated by something.

Saphira looked at him, gesturing her head as if she were about to say more, but again thought better of it. Instead she turned about and slowly walked to her meal. Tentatively she sniffed it, then with a swift jerk of her neck, tore off a hind quarter and, throwing her head back, swallowed it - leg and all - whole. Eragon joined in shortly after by holding his meal down with a fore-paw, tearing a hind leg off and then swallowing it whole, just as Saphira had done. By the time Saphira finished the last morsel of her meal the sun had edged higher, hovering peacefully over the mountains. Both of them spent the remainder of the meal in relative silence. Eragon more-or-less due to his ravenous hunger and Saphira more-or-less due to her uncertainty of exactly what was going on with him. She wondered at his sudden change. Where had it come from? Eragon finished his meal well before Saphira - for it was merely half of what he'd given her - and settled down to groom himself, in the fashion Saphira had shown him the day before. Then he lay quietly, watching her contentedly as she finished hers. Saphira sniffed the ground, and then crouched as she prepared to clean the blood from her paws, forelegs and maw. It was in that moment Eragon stood and casually walked up to her. Just as she lowered her head to begin, he whipped his tail round, blocking her attempt.

Allow me.

He offered, crouching before her while she brought her head up to look at him, the forked tips of her tongue still hanging out the front of her maw in an unfinished attempt to begin grooming herself. Eragon leaned in and lowered his head to tentatively sniff her bloodied paw nearest him. Saphira clenched the one he was sniffing, pulling it away slightly as she looked down.

What is he doing?

She asked herself, again uncertain of what to make of this sudden change in him. He lifted his head to look her in the eyes, question her apprehension. Afterwards he licked the tip of her snout.

It's alright Saphira I just want to--

His gaze moved to the side as if he were considering his next words. Then he moved it back to her, a fanged grin appearing on his face.

To bathe you.

Following his words, he heard a shuffle from below. He looked down in response to find that both her paws were tucked snugly beneath her chest. Chuckling, he looked back up to meet her gaze, assuring her with another tender lick across the snout.

It's alright Saphira, I'll not hurt you.

He then lowered his head and gently prodded the foreleg nearest him with the tip of his snout and asked.

Now. May I continue?

Saphira hesitated but then slowly relaxed and stretched her bloodied forelegs out before him. Eragon growled softly in encouragement, sniffed, and then began to slowly lap them clean, starting from the clawed tips of her talons. He took his time, allowing her to acclimate and hopefully enjoy the attention he was showing her. His long, forked tongue trailed in slow, gentle strokes along her talons, in between them, across her paws and up along her forelegs. He occasionally switched to gentle nibbles to remove stubborn pieces of flesh or dirt from her scales then resumed licking. Eventually he worked his way up her shoulders, then her neck, giving each the same gentle attention. When he reached her head he stood and with his own, gently pushed hers down so that he could move more freely along it to tend her bloodied maw and face, and the top of her head and neck. Whatever apprehension she'd held when he began it'd melted away. Saphira's expression was sedate, eyes closing to betray deep relaxation she was slipping into with each stroke of his tongue, her body giving way to Eragon's gentle attention and warm humming sound that softly vibrated his chest. It was heavenly, she thought. Much more pleasant than she would have expected.

Eragon had finished cleaning the remains of her meal from her scales but relished in the pleasure he was giving her, so continued, gently massaging the base of her neck and shoulders with a series of strategically placed nibbles. He was pleased that she found it so relaxing. He was also pleased that he was the one who could give it. She'd done so much for him, it was the least he could do. At least until tonight. He moved down along her left flank causing Saphira to lean into him, her eyes glazed, opened just slightly to augment the expression of bliss on her face. He was quite adept at this, she managed to think. At first she hadn't known what to make of it. Fírnen had never offered to groom her. Why would he? It was not customary for dragons - wild or not - to groom one another. It seemed another contradiction. Moreover was her reaction to it. Because of their scaled hides dragons were used to more aggressive forms of tactile stimulation; however, what Eragon was doing to her - his slow, gentle manner - seemed in its own way very stimulating. How this was so escaped her. Aye. Another contradiction, but oh how good it felt. As Eragon continued to lavish her with careful attention her head began to hang low over the ground. His sedate pace, and well placed licks and nibbles, pulled her into a deeper state of relaxation. It was hypnotic. By the time Eragon finished, her head was just touching the ground. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing slow and shallow. Eragon moved to press his body against hers then draped his wing around her, never breaking stride in his licks along her neck. Then he stopped and placed his head atop hers, pushing it down so that it rested fully on the ground. Saphira did not resist him, instead snuggling closer to him as he pulled her tight. Eragon closed his eyes and smiled to himself, sighing contentedly as he wrapped his tail around her body. Both fell asleep soon after, enjoying quite possibly the best nap they could ever remember and more content is each other's warmth and closeness than they had ever been.

---

Eragon was the first to wake. Slowly he opened his eyes and, feeling Saphira pressed next to him, rubbed his chin along her forehead, eliciting a stir as she arched her neck and rested her head atop his outstretched forelegs. He squeezed her tighter. This was perfect, he thought to himself. Not a care in the world, just him and his lovely mate napping peacefully under the warm sun. Eragon growled happily as a grin formed, for there was still tonight ahead of them. Saphira was just barely awake but kept her eyes closed, content to remain where she was - the remainder of the day if possible - and listen to the slow, steady beat of Eragon's heart. A dragon's heart whose every beat for was for her, music to her ears. She forced a faint smile. Whatever the source of his sudden change she could get used to it. Even his sudden, excessive way of showing her affection. As she listened, Eragon began to lavish more attention over her, pulling her tight and stroking his tongue along her neck, shoulders and back. As before, he moved at a sedate pace, using long, slow strokes that trailed along the curves of her shoulders and in between the spikes along her spine. He chuckled softly to himself as he nibbled along the upper ridge of her shoulder, sending a momentary shudder through her.

He'd toiled earlier this morning, on the plateau, with uncertainty of just how he would be able to show her how special she was to him. It now seemed such foolish, needless worry. She seemed quite content, leaving him to marvel at how such a simple act could convey so much to a dragon. It appeared she was willing to receive it, and he was more than willing to give it; was willing to give so much more. He stopped mid-stroke along her neck, wondering if in their brief time together Fírnen had ever shown her affection like this. He resumed, concluding that it was unlikely for this was not necessarily a dragon's way.

Way--

He mused, breaking stride again.

What will our offspring be like? Will they be like me or more like an ordinary dragon?

Eragon resumed, moving to Saphira's shoulder and allowing the questions to linger at the outer edge of his mind, but not allowing them to trouble him. They were perfectly valid, leaving him mildly curious. What would his offspring be like? Ar'Din had said that he was the first of his kind, and indeed he was. No other human in history had been transformed into a dragon. Nor would another ever be, he suspected. As he continued, his mind lightly mused over the idea, wandering across a vast plain of possibilities that lay in store for him, Saphira, their offspring, the dragon eggs they carried with them and the future generation of wild dragons. A new generation. He was the first of a new breed, it seemed. But to what end? His mind wandered lazily over the plain, forming lightly a question which it locked away for another day.

Why had he - a human - been chosen to become a wild dragon?

Not just for Saphira, he thought. Although she would've been reason enough, as far as he was concerned. And not just to lead the dragons back to Ter'Olen, or to defeat Mot'Gar. Nay. Those moments would pass away, assuming he made it that far. For the first time since learning of his destiny his mind began to think of what lay in wait following those events. In this moment he could only hold to the sudden impression that some reason bigger than the both of them lay unveiled. But only time could give answer to what the future held. But not now, not today. Today - this moment - was theirs and he would not allow it to be spoiled. Today she was his focus and he was content to leave it at that. Just as the need to protect her would come one day so would answers. Today was today. He'd leave tomorrow, and the next, to themselves. Eragon paused, swiveling his head to look at the sun. It was now high in the sky, just starting its descent towards the western horizon. He smiled in response to the soft snore from Saphira - she'd drifted back to sleep - then licked her once more and carefully slipped his forelegs out from underneath her head - so as not to wake her - and unwrapped his tail from around her body.

A contended rumble escaped him as he stood and unfurled his wings, wriggling his entire body with renewed vigor. He stretched, arching his neck, back and legs. Afterwards he let his wings drop to the ground. The soreness he'd felt earlier in the day seemed to have disappeared, leaving him to think on the fact that he couldn't remember ever waking so refreshed, and happy. He felt as if he could take on the entire world then and there. He shot one more glance at Saphira - who still appeared asleep - then folded his wings tightly to his sides, turned and began walking to the stream to get a drink. When he reached it he crouched on the bank and panned his gaze around before lowering his head to take a drink. He paused to sniff, and then smacked his chops as he prepared to take a drought of the cool, inviting water. His head stopped, his snout suspended just above the stream. There, looking back at him, was the reflection of his face, darkened slightly by his shadow that blocked the light of the sun which shown from behind him. He cocked it, studying the expression and features. He looked different, more at peace, confident than he'd been since they began their journey. The most prominent where his eyes which appeared to have changed since the day before, when he'd last seen his reflection. They seemed brighter, clearer, having a new depth and wisdom about them. They gleamed from within, as though from deep-set embers that glowed with fire. He chuckled to himself, thinking how one simple decision had changed so much about him; changed everything in fact, and in only a matter of hours.

A dragon's way of thinking is clearly more expedient.

He thought, lowering his mouth into the water, following with several droughts gulped down in rapid succession.

And now I know without doubt what I want.

He began, pausing to look back in the direction of Saphira.

I want Saphira to be happy, happier than she's ever been. I want her to know that all her waiting and broken hopes were not without reason. I will repay every moment of pain and sadness she endured because of me with love and affection.

He followed the little mental speech with a growl of approval then stood and began padding back to Saphira. As he came over the ridge that hid the stream from view he discovered Saphira awake, standing and apparently occupied with preening her wings. Her head was turned away so she did not see him. A wry grin suddenly crept across his face as he slowed, softening his steps as he carefully padded closer. At the sight of her he was hit with the sudden memory of how she'd tackled him in the sands of the desert surrounding the city of Ter'Olen, during the dream they shared two nights prior. The memory filled him with a sudden inspiration to do a little tackling of his own, repaying her in a gesture of good natured fun and play. He'd put her through enough over the past day or so and felt she deserved a break. He hoped she would enjoy it. Like a lion he prowled, silently edging closer to her then stopped and crouched about two hundred feet away. His hind quarters wriggled, tail twitching, eyes fixed on his target as he readied himself to pounce. Saphira was clearly oblivious to his approach, still occupied with her preening. Eragon waited a moment more - to be sure - then bolted from his position in a full-out sprint towards her. She heard him coming but had only just began to snap round her head before he impacted, tackling her in a whirling blur of claws, and sapphire and amethyst colored scales. Saphira had let out a roar of surprise, following with a series of grunts and growls as they rolled over and over as one. They continued on a short distance before slowing to a stop with Eragon straddling her, pinning her to ground with his forelegs.

Saphira's eyes remained wide as Eragon looked at her. His eyes were like fire and mouth crooked in a snarl to reveal sharp white teeth. A low, deep growl escaped him as he pressed his snout against hers, his maw quivering in another snarl. For a moment Saphira didn't know what to make of it. Eragon's penetrating stare was feral and fierce, a stark contrast from just hours before. But what did he think he was doing? She squirmed beneath him but to no avail. His bulk - which was larger than hers - pressed down on her, his forelegs pressing harder on her shoulders. Then, as suddenly as he'd attacked, his expression transformed from one of mock aggression to genuine amusement and affection. His low growl was replaced with a lively, guttural chuckle, leaving his nostrils crimson, billowing with twin tendrils of black smoke. Pulling his head back slightly, he licked her snout.

My you look surprised! I'll wager you never expected this from me. He quipped.

Saphira's expression slowly softened as she realized it was only a mock attack. Eragon was--

Playing with her?

What had spurred it she didn't know, but wondered. Eragon swiveled his head left then right, surveying his handiwork and the resulting position they were in. Turing it back to face her, he wriggled his hind quarters.

This seems to me a familiar position--

he began, then with narrowed eyes looked at her with warm affection, and perhaps just a trickle of tempered desire

--Except this time I'm on top.

His mirth became instantly contagious. Saphira - who was more relaxed by now - paused to smile at him, knowingly.

Oh?

She began, and then, positioning both forelegs on either side of his chest, added.

But not for long.

Eragon grunted in surprise, lifting slightly off her, as she tickled him in like fashion as he'd done, in the lake two days prior. She continued until Eragon could take it no longer and stood to escape her wondering talons. Seizing the moment, she moved with swift and skillful motion. Before he knew it she'd managed to turn the tables, freeing herself while, in the same motion, pinning him to the ground; pressed beneath her as she lowered herself atop him. She growled, touching her snout against his, and with a smug gaze stared intently into his surprised one.

You were saying?

She asked, pulling back slightly to glance over their new position. She then turned back to look him in the eyes.

Now this looks more familiar. I believe it was I who was on top. Don't you agree?

Eragon's eyes blinked as he managed a silent nod. She eyed him affectionately then flicked her tongue along his neck, eliciting an affectionate rumble from him. His reaction sparked another twinge of desire within her as she moved lower to his shoulder. Again sudden doubt squelched it. She hesitated, wasn't prepared to chance yet another denial from him. She couldn't trust that he was ready. No, she must wait. She quickly got up off of him, shaking her head as she turned to face away. Eragon's eyes had been closed during her attention but opened in surprise - and a little disappointment - the moment he felt her weight lift from his body. He rolled to his side and lay there in silence as Saphira stood facing away from him. An iron wall surrounded her mind so as to block her thoughts from his reach. His eyes closed as he sighed. He'd felt the twinge of her desire and suspected the reason behind her abrupt change in heart. She didn't trust him, didn't want to chance yet another attempt only to have it ruined; cut short in a fog of frustration and disappointment. But this time he was ready to show her. He wanted her. And this time he was never more certain of it. Even more certain than his decision to accept her as his mate. But now was not the moment. He must stick to the plan, wait for tonight. Tonight he would show her just how sure he was; how ready he was.

Tonight!

He thought, suddenly concerned at the time of day. He looked up at the sun. It still sat high above them in the western sky, but was lower than before.

Not much longer now. He thought, rolling to his feet.

Saphira glanced over her shoulder to see what he was doing. She looked at him for only a moment then sighed and looked away again. Eragon eyed her as she stood in silence, her wings hanging loosely at her sides. He wondered what she was thinking in that moment and wished she would open her thoughts to him. He then looked down as if to consider his next move. A moment later he nodded to himself, smiling as a new idea came to him. One that just might cheer her up. He looked back to the sun, as if to confirm the time.

Aye. I think we have enough time.

Then he made his move. Saphira's hindquarters jumped as Eragon playfully nipped her. She grunted in surprise, snapping her head round only to find him bounding away from her, bucking and throwing his head in a spirited display the likes of which she'd never seen in a dragon before. The sight of him was so new to her, in fact, that her melancholy mood melted away almost instantly; replaced by a measure of confusion mixed with curious amusement. As odd as it was, it was enough to lighten her mood, forcing a faint smile to form across her face, yet leave her with a quizzical expression.

What is he doing? She thought, shaking her head.

Eragon stopped a short distance off then turned to face her. His wings were flared above his head and he clawed the ground, snorting like a bull. Saphira watched him with utter amazement - and perhaps just a little amusement - as he froze, arching his neck as he stared back at her, expectantly. When he finally realized she wasn't going to follow after him, he clawed the ground again, and then furled his wings and bound straight for her in an all-out-run. Just before reaching her he veered slightly to the side, nipping her flank as he passed by.

I'll wager you can't catch me.

He teased, arching into a wide circle then stopping at the same spot he was only moments before.

What are you doing, Eragon?

She asked, turning to face him but making no move to give chase.

A game. He began, flashing her a fanged grin.

It's called tag. I tagged you and now you have to tag me. That is if you can catch me.

He said, bounding towards her again. He veered aside as he passed by, snapping his jaws in a mock attack, a teasing gesture intended to provoke her to join in. Saphira stepped away from him as he passed by, her head following him has he arched round her in the opposite direction.

What's wrong, not up to the challenge? He said, as he came to a stop and crouched, his tail twitching.

Saphira pivoted round to face him again then crouched, intent on staying where she was.

This is silly Eragon. I'm not chasing you around the clearing like some fool dragon. Humph! You should see yourself, you look ridiculous.

Eragon's mouth pressed tight as his eyes narrowed. Determined to get her to join in he stood and lowered his head then began to slowly prowl round her from afar.

I look ridiculous? What about you in your earlier attempts to court me? You remember it, on the deck of the Talíta that day. You never did tell me what you were doing. Whatever you call it I'll wager it's not so foolish as the way you looked attempting it.

With a wry grin he added.

Humph! I've never seen something so funny in my life. Now who of us do you think is more foolish?

By this time Saphira had tensed, as if ready to bolt. Her eyes set upon him, narrowed with irritation at the personal quip, tail twitching.

That's not funny Eragon. Now apologize or I'll--

Or you'll what?

He interrupted, then snubbed.

I'll not apologize. Rather I'd prefer you to attempt to put me in my place, if you can. That's what a dragon does, right?

Eragon's prowl quickened to a prance, tail and wings raised to give him the appearance of an over-proud stallion. He knew he had her. Just one more prod should do it.

If you're a real dragon then come show me, that is if you can. I've been a dragon but two days, you've been one all your life. Surely one such as I am no match for the likes of you.

With his final words Eragon turned about, bolting away from her, tail arched and wings flared. His intended response was immediate as Saphira readied herself to give chase. However, she chose not to run after him, instead leapt into the sky. Not long after she was flying over him, talons readied to sink into his scaly hide. Eragon immediately noticed it looming over him as he arched into another lap. Smiling wider, he pulled his wings tight against his body and then veered towards the tree line. Her eyes fixed on him, Saphira prepared to crop her wings and pounce. So intent was her attention on him that she did not notice the tree line fast approaching. Eragon glanced over his shoulder to look at her. She appeared not to notice the approaching tree line so he looked ahead, exerted himself, sprinting faster.

If I were you I'd look ahead.

He said, chuckling at her determination to catch him. Saphira's gaze flashed forward and then her eyes widened in surprise. Eragon disappeared into the forest a moment later as Saphira roared in frustration, banking sharply to avoid crashing into the tall trees which served as the manner for his escape. He sauntered out of the forest a moment later, head held high with pride at his accomplishment in besting her attempt to capture him. He stood just outside the tree line in case Saphira had planned a surprise attack for his exit. Saphira had not. Instead she landed a short distance away and slowly walked over to him where she prowled back and forth, as if attempting to decide her next move. Eragon stepped closer, and then stretched his forelegs in front of him, bowing low his head and whipping his tail in a playful gesture. Saphira only scoffed then stopped to face him, clearly un-amused.

Oh come on Saphira. He began, chuckling at her.

This is supposed to be fun. After all that has transpired over the past two days I'm simply trying to engage you in a little fun. We could both use it.

Glaring at her mischievously, he whipped his tail and added. Well. Clearly one of us more than the other.

I see no fun in mocking me! She growled.

Eragon stood, paused for a brief moment, and then slowly rested on his haunches. Maintaining his smile, he replied.

Come now. You know as well as I that I didn't mean anything by it. I was simply trying to spur you to come after me.

Chuckling again, he added.

It worked, didn't it? Besides, correct me if I'm wrong, but __weren't_ you just mocking my behavior a moment ago?_

Saphira was silent a moment, then narrowed her stare.

That was different. She began, stopping to rest on her own haunches.

Oh? How so? He quipped, scaly brows raised.

Having no immediate answer, she snarled with irritation and looked away from him. Shaking his head, Eragon sighed then stood and slowly approached her, saying.

Look, it __doesn't_ matter. This is all in good fun Saphira._

He stopped just in front of her and continued his attempt to appease her.

You know I love you Saphira, more than anything, or anyone, for that matter.

He licked her cheek only to have her pull it away slightly. Another sigh escaped him.

I would never willingly hurt you Saphira. If I have it was not intentional, and I'm truly sorry. You mean the world to me. I just wanted to have some fun with you. To take your mind off your troubles if only for one afternoon.

Saphira kept her face turned away from him, but growled softly in reply.

Fine words. But just words.

Again he sighed, clearly at a loss of what to do next. His attempt at fun hadn't worked out as he'd intended. Movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He swiveled his head in response to it and there saw Saphira's tail twitching gently along the ground. A wide grin formed on his face as a new, wonderful, idea came to him. Slowly he edged closer to her then, arching his tail round, gently placed it atop hers. Saphira immediately tensed and whipped her head around to see what was on her tail. She then snapped it back round to look at Eragon - who was still smiling - with a mixture of irritation and confusion evident in her eyes. Emboldened, Eragon moved his tail, entwining it around hers in a gesture mimicking one known to humans, but unknown to dragons; at least in this fashion. To dragons the meaning conveyed something else, leaving Saphira uncertain of his intent. Eragon then draped his wing over her back and lowered his head to gently sniff at her neck. He followed this action with tender licks, trailing his forked tongue along it then finishing with a gentle nip along her jaw bone. Saphira crooked her foreleg nearest him, lifting if off the ground in preparation to pull away. Eragon, on the other hand, had different plans so thwarted her effort by pulling her towards him with his wing.

Ah, you'll not escape me that easily.

He crooned. Afterwards he resumed sniffing her neck, moving down it with eyes narrowed in contented affection. Saphira said nothing in reply, remaining silent as her eyes followed his movements. A twinge of caution and growing uncertainty was evident in her them - and her reactions - for the context of his gesture was unfamiliar to her, yet it was not altogether unpleasant. It's was simply new and quite unexpected. To her knowledge dragons never entwined their tails in this fashion, save perhaps during a mating flight. But they were not engaged in a mating flight, nor were they about to: Were they?

She did not know what to make of it, nor was she certain of how to respond. What was he doing? Eragon trailed backup her neck with tender laps of his tongue, mixed with occasional nips, pulling her to him tighter still. Saphira's scales ruffled softly as a tremor passed through her. She tentatively set her foreleg back down and relaxed only slightly, and without thinking, found herself leaning into him and his attentions. Unfamiliar to her, aye, but she warmed to the pleasure it was giving her. Noticing her reaction, Eragon growled softly, pulling her tighter, continuing with another pass, down along her neck in the same manner as before. This went on for some time and as much he wanted to continue Eragon knew he could not carry on all day. He had another place in mind. Besides it was not yet time, although part of him wished it was. When he was finished he lifted his head to look her square in the face. His amethyst eyes gleamed like fine jewels. Although she had relaxed somewhat, Saphira was still plagued with uncertainty. Her gaze darted nervously aside and her weight shifted on her forelegs. Slowly she moved her gaze back to meet his, holding it intently in search of answer to his odd - yet pleasant - behavior. She discovered within his eyes the gleam of love and affection she'd seen before, but this time intermixed with it was something else ... a new certainty? ... Or confidence perhaps?

She leaned closer, eyes narrowing with intent - as if to confirm the fleeting thought - but doubt fogged her vision. Did she really see what she thought she saw? Had she really seen the spark she was waiting for? So very long for? No! How could she have? How could she expect him to be ready so soon? It was only just yesterday that--

She looked away, casting the thought from her mind. She wouldn't let herself believe it. Eragon's eyes opened fully, the look of love and affection in them replaced with genuine understanding. He suspected the cause of her uncertainty, her hesitancy. How could he blame her after what he'd done? However, he also knew something that she didn't. She was still wounded - a wound he'd caused - and he'd be the one to heal it. And very soon he would. He looked again at the sun which was now sitting lower, closer to the western horizon than when last he looked. It was time for them to leave for it had taken him an hour to reach the eastern mountains, and there is where he wanted to take her, to heal her, to fulfill his promise to her. Gauging from the sun's position he suspected they had just enough time before it disappeared from view. He loosed her from his embrace then stood to face her and stepped back. Saphira's head turned slowly to look at him. Her eyes were filled with question. Both stared into one another's eyes in silence. The look on Eragon's face told her that he had something to say but was uncertain how to proceed. What he did next; however, flushed her with a new wave of uncertainty and nervousness. It was unsettling to say the least for never had she been so nervous around him before. What was wrong with her? He edged closer then sat on his haunches, leaning back slightly so that the bulk of his weight rested on this hind quarters; while his forelegs were left to move freely. Looking intently at her, he reached forward and gently took both her fore paws in his, guiding her up so that both of them faced each other while reared on their haunches, with fore paws clasped. During the maneuver Saphira's gaze darted nervously between their paws and his loving, scaled face. Again she'd attempted to pull away - for she still didn't understand what he was doing - not knowing how to react, let alone respond. Eragon looked at her with tender love and affection evident in his gleaming eyes. Saphira; however, could not, instead looking away from him as a mixture of familiar - yet unfamiliar - feelings and sensations coursed through her. Apparently it was now her turn to experience - even in the slightest - what Eragon had the day before. It was indeed unsettling. Both torture and temptation all in one. Eragon slowly leaned in, licking her cheek in attempt to comfort and reassure her, hoping she might look him in the eyes as he spoke the words he wanted - no needed - to say. Despite his hope, she remained looking away from him. Eragon growled softly then released one of her paws - which she quickly drew in close to her chest - then lifted it to rest it under her lower jaw. She attempted to move and shake it free but this did not dissuade him. Instead he carefully lifted, moving her head round to look at him. There he gazed lovingly at her beautiful face. Her eyes darted nervously, first left then right, but would not meet his, her nostrils flaring with quick, shaky breaths. Her head jerked in a start as Eragon licked her on the snout with the tip of his tongue. Nodding to her encouragingly, he released her lower jaw and took hold of her paw again. Then he drew a deep, shaky breath. A shudder passed between them, first her then him. Eragon flashed a fanged grin and said.

I know my sudden gestures are all new to you Saphira, especially after yesterday.

He paused to choose his next words carefully, and then continued.

I love you Saphira and I want to show you just how much I do. I want you to see how special you are to me, how much I care for you.

Gesturing towards the mountains, he added.

Come with me. Come fly with me. There's something I want you to see, something I want to show you, to give you. I realize my sudden change in behavior must seem odd but I assure you, I've not gone mad and there is a reason behind it. Will you trust me?

Clenching his talons, he gently squeezed her paws and added.

Will you come with me?

Saphira turned her head aside slightly, but maintained her gaze, eyeing him suspiciously. Smiling wider, he nuzzled her cheek with his snout then pulled back again to look at her.

Trust me. Please?

Saphira's gaze darted away as she turned her head to look at the mountains. She remained silent for what seemed like an eternity then slowly turned her head to look back at him and then paused and finally acknowledged his request with a shallow, tentative nod. Eragon's excitement flared. He nuzzled her again then released her paws, stepped back and unfurled his wings. As he turned about to take flight he said.

I know you don't care for surprises Saphira but I promise you won't be disappointed with this one.

Following, he thrust his wings, leaping into the air where he remained hovering in wait for Saphira to join him. Saphira glanced back towards the mountains one last time then slowly unfurled her wings. After a brief sigh she thrust them down and leapt into the air, banking to follow Eragon who was already on his way.

---

It took longer for them both to reach the mountains than it'd taken Eragon earlier that morning. This was largely due to Saphira, who seemed in no hurry to reach their destination. Although part of her relished in Eragon's sudden - and admittedly pleasant - change another part of her felt exposed, suspicious and unsure. She had no idea what he had planned and, despite his assurances to the contrary, didn't believe it would be anything that would impress her. Curiosity had been her constant companion, though. During their flight she'd entertained several possibilities of what he might have planned. In the end; however, she'd concluded there was only one thing she wanted from him right now, but it couldn't possibly be what he had in mind. It was beyond a far stretch for her to even hope it. It was too soon. He simply wasn't ready. A fact made all-too-clear to her the day before. As hard as it was for her to wait she knew she must. She'd resigned herself to that fact that morning, for him. She wouldn't go back on it now. Their belated arrival was also in part to Eragon who'd taken to flying under and around Saphira, touching her wing tips with his own, or letting the tip of his tail trail seductively across her back and neck as he flew over her.

Just once he'd succeeded in rolling underneath her, rubbing along her chest and belly with the tip of his tail, pulling away just before brushing along the genital slit at the base of hers. He later attempted again but was thwarted by a set of jaws snapping at him from Saphira, who'd grown quite irritated with his antics. She'd chided him, stating very clearly that unless he intended to follow through with the messages he was clearly sending he'd best stick to looking rather than touching. His only reply had been a fanged grin, followed by a smoky chuckle, as he glided past her to lead the rest of the way. He'd made no further attempts during the remainder of their flight. Upon arrival, remembering his earlier foolishness, Eragon led her to a spot atop the center of the plateau; well clear of any obstacles that could cause him or her injury in the event another micro-draft decided to flare.

Smiling, as they alighted on the plateau together, he reasoned that if further scrapes or bruises were to be had he'd rather feel them from his mate's claw or fang during the fiery passion of their courtship. Not from the cold, jagged feel of inanimate stone. As Saphira folded her wings and began to tentatively survey the plateau, Eragon moved off to the spot he'd chosen earlier. There he lay down, his hind legs comfortably stretched to one side, and patiently waited for her to finish. Saphira made one pass of the plateau, instinctively sniffing the surface for the scent of any other creatures that may have visited there prior. When satisfied, she turned about to see Eragon lying down, and then froze; her gaze intently fixed on him. The sun was sitting just above the horizon, casting a fiery-orange light across the side of the mountain range, along with the clearings, fields and forest far below. The light coming from it was hitting Eragon's body at just such an angle that the sapphire scales along his chest and neck, along with the amethyst scales adorning his flank, sparkled with a brilliance and rich, draconic beauty the likes of which she'd never seen before. He was, in that moment, very handsome ... irresistible.

Magnificent!

Her tail suddenly twitched, whipping softly as her tongue flicked out instinctively, as if to catch his scent. Her scales ruffled in a chill as a wave of intense desire flared. Her skin tingled and her belly warmed, the fire in her stoking from the sight of him. She crouched slightly, tempted in that moment to move on him; to pounce him in the very spot he lay - as if inviting her - and take him whether he was ready or not.

Blasted! If he would not take her, she would take him. Either way she would have him--

Now!

She took a step, then another and then one more just before she was forced back to her senses by a sudden micro-draft that caught her wing, flaring it slightly. She tensed, and then steadied as the draft dispersed, suddenly aware of what she'd almost done. She growled, looking away from him in frustration, as she willed down her desire, reluctantly calming herself while stifling a pining yowl.

Why couldn't he simply take her? Why couldn't he bring an end to her torment? Didn't he love her? Moreover: Why was she letting him do this to her? She closed her eyes, loosing a plaintive whimper as she willed up an iron wall around her mind. As much as it hurt she didn't want Eragon to know. She was soon roused from her thoughts by a faint clacking sound coming from Eragon's direction. Slowly she opened her eyes and looked at him. There he remained waiting, as magnificent as ever with the claws of an outstretched paw rapping gently on the stone surface of the empty spot next to him. A wing raised in invitation, gleaming amethyst eyes intently watching her, calling her to his side. The grin he wore earlier replaced with an expression of genuine love and concern.

Come. Come lay next to me. Come let me warm you Saphira. My love, my mate.

He said softly, rapping his claws on the warmed stone surface one last time. Saphira's gaze averted him for a moment, and then she sighed and slowly padded over to him. She paused to look at him - his mouth now curled in an encouraging grin - then lay down, setting her bulk in the empty spot he'd reserved just for her. As she settled, he draped the wing over her, taking her into a warm embrace, pulling her into him tightly. He then took one of the horns on her head gently between his teeth, pulling it closer to him that he might eagerly lavish her with more of his earlier attention. Lastly, he wrapped her tail with his, and then began to eagerly lick the back of her neck. The sun began its decent, dipping slowly behind the western horizon as Eragon continued to lick her neck, exchanging with an occasional love-nip as he worked his way down it to her opposite shoulder then back up. As before, Saphira relaxed into his embrace, relishing in the attention as her eyes lazily gazed upon the setting sun. She'd even wrapped her tail around his, concluding that if she couldn't have him at least she could relish in the attention he was willing to give her. Eragon paused only briefly to flash a glance at the setting sun, but then resumed his attention on her.

It was not long after that the sun completed its decent, yielding to the first stars of twilight. Eragon favored her with one more nip then checked the sky, confirming it was time. Gently he drew his hind legs inward, in preparation to make his first move. Saphira had closed her eyes, entering a mild trance-like state, oblivious to the slight shift in his body.

So. What did you think? Did you enjoy yourself? He asked, suddenly.

Saphira's eyes blinked open.

What? Did you say something? She asked.

Eragon chuckled softly, and then favored her with another nip; to rouse her from her stupor.

I asked if you enjoyed yourself.

Saphira parted her jaws in a fanged yawn then snuggled closer to him.

Mmmmm. I suppose I did. It was certainly ... different.

She began, with a certain contented indifference. Eragon smiled wider, listening intently as he shifted a little more. Again she yawned, and then added.

Still, the way you spoke of it earlier I was anticipating something a little more, engaging? In any case I suppose I should say thank you.

Afterwards, she pulled away from him slightly, as if in preparation to stand.

We should get some sleep. Did you plan for us to sleep here or should we make back for the clearing now?

Eragon took this as his cue. With a single, swift motion he clasped her shoulder with one of his fore paws and rolled her back, while at the same time moving atop her, settling his weight as he straddled her body. During the move Saphira loosed a startled grunt; her eyes wide with surprise as he brought his head close to look at her. Then he slowly traced his tongue down her neck, stopping every so often to gently nibble it, chuckling.

Sleep? I think not. I don't recall saying anything about sleep.

He trailed his tongue slowly back up her neck then finished with a gentle nip to her jaw. Next, he touched the tip of his snout against hers and looked intently into her eyes. His gleamed with anticipation of what he was about to give her, containing within them twin embers that revealed his growing desire and excitement. Saphira blinked to the sight of them, asking herself if it could really be. But part of her couldn't bring herself to believe it. Her head cocked only just slightly, her eyes transmuting from surprise to that of disbelief mixed with a pleading glint in them. Her desire for him sparked. How she needed him, wanted him. But was he really--

Eragon please. Please let what I'm seeing be true.

She thought, loosing a soft whimper. Knowing her thoughts, he pulled his head back then reached up with one of his paws and pressed it gently against her scaled cheek. Without even thinking Saphira pressed into it, whimpering involuntarily as she closed her eyes. Then she opened them to find Eragon smiling at her.

Aye. My mate, my love. Tonight I am ready. Ready to make you mine.

Saphira let loose a muffled yowl, but not one of sadness, one of relief, joy and a bubbling desire that she'd all this time been forced to hold back. She wrapped his tail tighter and shuddered, whimpering as she placed her fore-paws on his scaled chest. It was a silly gesture, she thought. Another contradiction. But at this moment she didn't care. Her eyes closed again as she pressed into his paw, which was still on her cheek. For the second time she was so overcome with emotion that a glint appeared along the corner of her eye, another tear was forming. Her first had been borne of great sadness and sense of loss--

loneliness, separation, fear.

Back then, Eragon had not accepted her as his mate. Instead he'd rejected her, having not understood what he was doing. But now he was here, with her, and he was hers, and he was truly ready to show her. This tear was borne of joy, warmth, love and desire. Eragon noticed the glint and twisted his paw face up to catch it as it fell. He pulled it close and looked at it, at which time it had already hardened into another tear-shaped, sapphire jewel. His eyes squinted - for it looked familiar to him - then widened with sudden recognition. He quickly brought his other paw up to look at the ringed jewel he'd placed on it and glanced between them. They were identical, each glowing as brightly as the other. He then looked into Saphira's eyes, suddenly compelled to search them. On the surface they were full of concern and confusion. What was going? Why did he stop? But Eragon was compelled to search deeper, beyond their surface. The jewel lying in his paw was as the one Ar'Din had given him. He'd not known at the time that it was a tear. Never would he have guessed it. Why would he? It was a mystery to him. Dragons never shed them before. To his knowledge it wasn't even possible, and yet she'd apparently shed a tear twice. His eyes squinted further. Something was taking shape within hers, an image perhaps. He searched her eyes, knowing that it was a tear she'd shed, but not knowing why she'd shed it. He looked deeper, the images reflecting in her eyes becoming clearer.

She'd shed it because ... because of ... of ... of ...

Me?

His eyes widened, changing suddenly as a wave of shock and sorrow came over him. What he saw broke his heart. A mournful, muffled chatter soon followed. The sound created by Eragon's teeth as his lower jaw trembled. He saw, reflecting deep within her eyes, the image of a lone, sapphire dragoness, lying on a distant river bank. She was cold, broken hearted, in great pain, sadness, and fearful of losing the one true mate she so longed for. Her once brilliantly colored scales were pale, darkened, as if her very life were being drained. The very fire in her being snuffed out, slowly and painfully.

Eragon sank from her side, his heart plummeting. He broke, lifting his head to the sky in a plaintive yowl - which echoed eerily in the night - unable to contain the flood of sorrow as the pain she'd felt mixed with his own, filling him to the brim.

What had he done?

His anguish echoed across the summits, traveling as far as the valley below, by the wind. A herd of dear abruptly stopped grazing, looking towards the mountains; ears pricked to the faint cry. It even traveled as far as the lake-side village. The pier-master was outside and turned to look at the mountains. The hair on his neck stood straight as a shiver passed through him from the faint, eerie cry. A sound he'd never heard before coming from them.

Eragon trembled as another yowl escaped him, and then he collapsed, pressing his body against hers, rolling them both to the side as he pulled her into a tight embrace. The wave of sorrow continued to wash through him, mixing with regret as he rubbed his head vigorously along her neck, pulling her tighter, then exchanging his rubs with eager laps to her face; a thousand - no, more than that - apologies for what he'd done. He hadn't known, known of the sorrow she'd borne ... alone ... so alone.

What have I done! I'm so sorry, so very sorry my Saphira. My poor Saphira!

He let loose another muffled yowl as he rubbed her neck with his, wrapping her tail tighter as he licked her face; a thousand more kisses in apology. He then placed his chin atop her head and pulled it into his chest, trembling again as the wave of sorrow ebbed. There he held her, never wanting to let go. Ar'Din had known all along. Why didn't he tell him?

Eragon draped a wing over her and went still as the wave passed from him, leaving in its wake a lingering twinge of regret. There he held her. All went quiet for what seemed an eternity. A shooting star flashed silently across the darkening sky then was gone. And Eragon still held her.

Saphira stirred, rousing him. He freed her head, allowing her to move it as he moved his to look her in the eyes. His held deep regret, while hers a mixture of concern and confusion. She truly had no idea what had pained him. He closed his eyes tightly, realizing that she was unaware of her own pain. A pain he would not disclose to her. Nay. It was his to bear. It would serve as a reminder to him. His penance. And he'd gladly bear its memory. Saphira studied his expression, compelled suddenly to do something for him. Tentatively she moved a foreleg. Eragon grunted softly in a start as he felt something press against his cheek. He cracked open his eyes to see Saphira looking at him with genuine love and understanding. Whatever had pained him, he needed to know she loved him. Eragon pressed into it, eagerly welcoming the unexpected gesture. He then closed his eyes tightly, thinking himself unworthy of it.

A glint appeared at the corner of his eye and grew to form an amethyst tear. Saphira's gaze immediately focused on it as she watched it form and start to fall. Just as Eragon had done, she twisted her paw face up to catch it as it broke loose and fell softly from his face. She then brought it closer to inspect it with mild wonder. It was a mystery to her as well. She'd never seen a dragon's tear before. How could she? To her knowledge dragons didn't shed tears. And yet, lying in her palm was one that somehow he'd shed for her. She clasped it in her paw then leaned her head forward and licked Eragon on the snout, rousing his eyes open. She searched his, seeking answer, then lowered her open paw and set it down on the stony surface. The jewel's glow illuminated both their faces with a soft, amethyst light. Eragon's gaze followed as she gestured to it. He stared briefly only to look back at her, shaking his head. He could no more explain the cause of his than he could hers. Then he moved his foreleg, opening the paw that contained her tear, and gestured for her to place his within it.

Saphira flashed one more glance at his then hesitantly placed it in his paw, next to hers. Eragon clasped them, rubbing his head along her neck once more, and then loosed her from his embrace, stood, and set the jewels aside. They were a mystery to them both, aye. But he'd save answer to it for another time. He'd not brought her here to waste the night away in a search for answers. He brought her here for but one reason. Saphira moved to get up as Eragon set them down, but he moved to stop her. She looked at him in question as he climbed atop her, pressing his weight on her again. All the while he held her gaze, intently.

The look in his eyes were now filled with love, affection and desire. Aye. He'd hurt her. He'd felt the full measure of her pain, but it was passed. He was here now with her, ready to show her how much he loved her. Tenderly he licked her snout and nodded.

I have a promise to keep.

He then stood and prepared to give to her what he'd planned. Saphira moved again in attempt to get up, already preparing to engage him. Knowing her thoughts, he quickly pushed her back down, slowly shaking his head.

Nay. Not yet. I've much more to show you tonight, my mate.

He said, huskily. He moved his snout just beneath her lower jaw and lifted, pushing her head back so that her forehead rested on the stone surface, exposing the full length of her scaled neck to him. From there he began to lecherously lick her neck in long, slow strokes with his forked tongue. He continued down it, reaching her chest where he nibbled gently the sensitive scales in the crook between her forelegs and chest, moving across it to the other side. A new wave of sensation washed over Saphira, causing her to shiver and growl in pleasure.

Where did he learn this?

She managed to ask herself. But Eragon moved lower, nipping and licking her belly in strategic places, eliciting grunts and wheezes as he began to explore and pleasure her in ways no dragon ever did. She shuddered, eyes blinking wide as her talons clenched in another spasm of pleasure. Eragon chuckled softly to himself as he worked lower, clearly pleased that he was able to give her this gift; happy that she was receiving it so willingly. Saphira's mind whirled in a fog of desire and new forms of pleasure she'd not experienced before. Whatever this was he was doing to her she didn't want him to stop.