11

Arya agreed to have flying lessons that day just because her partner was really excited about learning from Eragon and Saphira, but what she wanted instead was to have a moment for herself, to think about what had happened the night before. Having Eragon right in front of her like this was not helping her focus at all, as Saphira talked about the different types of air flow and what they meant in terms of wing placement.

They were all atop the hill where Arya told Eragon about Fäolin. It was a warm and sunny afternoon, and the breeze twirled Eragon's hair on his forehead, messing up his brown locks that, she knew now from experience, were incredibly soft.

Arya parted her lips to welcome Eragon's tongue in her mouth, as her hands enjoyed playing with his hair. His soft hair. She suspected it would feel like that, but actually touching it felt ten thousand times better. His kiss was different than the kisses she had had before, for it was somehow warmer and rougher. His beard would either brush her skin or rub on her face depending on his intensity, and the sensation was at the same time new and expected, for she had imagined it all before. She had spent a good amount of time alone during the last decade thinking of how his touch would feel, creating scenarios inside her head where he would show her how much he wanted her. He did exactly that, but being Eragon, he showed her a lot more. He showed she was safe, whatever that word meant.

Fírnen's tail came to poke her on the back.

Pay attention! Saphira will be mad if you keep daydreaming instead of listening to her.

At his reprimand, Arya focused her eyes on the blue dragon as she demonstrated the movement Fírnen should make if he didn't want to be dragged by strong winds coming from north.

Eragon was standing by his partner and held a laugh when he saw Fírnen's gentle nudge on Arya, what made her get her eyes back on him.

His playful eyes in nothing resembled the ones he had the night before.

Eragon's feline walk toward her threw her off balance. She was ready to lay down her apologies in the most rational way she could think of, but his stare of pure fire made her tremble with anticipation. He was getting closer and closer, and her legs were getting weaker and weaker. A heat started to form inside her core...

This time Eragon couldn't hold his laugh and let it out completely, untangling her from her memories.

"Are you all right, Arya?" Eragon asked.

She noticed Saphira had stopped explaining and wondered what was the expression on her own face that made them realized she was far away from there.

Saphira asked you a question, Arya. And you missed it completely. Fírnen was annoyed with her lack of attention, and she noticed he had opened their conversation to everyone.

"I'm fine. I was just..."

Daydreaming. Fírnen accused.

"I'm sorry, Saphira. Could you repeat the question, please?"

Sure. I asked you and Eragon if you wish to stay on the ground and observe or to fly along with us.

Arya had no idea which option to choose. Gladly Eragon came to her rescue.

"I believe we will make more sense of what you spoke of if we stay here, Saphira."

The dragon blinked in acknowledgement and took the skies with Fírnen right behind her. Eragon moved to Arya's side still holding his amused expression.

"Are you sure you are all right?"

"Yes! And stop asking me that."

He raised his hands in surrender.

"Fine, I will. You just seem a little off today. I hope it's not because of anything I've done." His eyes shined with playfulness.

Arya cleared her throat feeling her cheeks starting to burn. She looked to the dragons, faking attention to their maneuvers.

"I wouldn't be so self-centered if I were you." Her words were cold, but the sound of it was barely a shaken whisper.

Eragon took her front and came into her field of view, baring the most splendid smile she had ever seen him bare. She lost her line of thought for a second.

"You don't need to be so disturbed by our kiss, Arya. I promised I would wait, and I will. I even swore I wouldn't ask for more than what we already had. So, I'm glad you took the lead then."

"You did ask. You said Meet me halfway." She did feel disturbed, but not by him, but by herself and her inability to resist him.

"I believed it fits our gray area." He shrugged. "Doesn't it?"

He bent the language just the way she had done the day before. Clever, of both of them.

"Our gray area." She smiled. "It will someday be the ruin of us." Again. Harsh words, soft tone.

"Or our triumph."

Eragon enclosed the distance and pulled her into a fond hug. His lips reached her forehead and placed there a warm kiss.

"Don't worry, all right? We will figure this out with time. I promise."

Arya felt her heart almost explode. How could he be this caring? Part of her wanted to say that it was because he had already gotten what he wanted – her affection. But she knew that in reality his caring demeanor toward other people, especially her, was his true nature. During the war he had placed wards on her even though he knew she was capable of doing it herself. He came to her rescue more than once when nobody else would. And now, instead of being on cloud nine about the recent events, he was trying to assure her that she would be fine. With him by her side, she suspected there was no other way but being fine.

Enlacing her arms around him, she nodded and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

I'm glad you two are getting along, but I wish to continue with my lesson, or is it too much to ask? Saphira called their attention, but she didn't sound too strict. She was merry even.

Fírnen, on the other hand, was furious, but he spoke into the intimacy of their link.

I swear to any of the gods if they exist, Arya, I'm closing my mind to you if you keep thinking about last night nonstop.

Arya grinned and stepped back from Eragon's embrace.

I can't stop. So you better do it now. She dared.

Fírnen actually closed his mind to her, which surprised and also amused her.

"I think someone's jealous." She spoke to Eragon, pointing to Fírnen, high up with Saphira.

He laughed.

"Not possible. I believe he's our biggest supporter."

I am! I just want to learn! And you are being rude to Saphira. Can you please pay attention?

"Yes, my friend, we can." Eragon concieliated and started to engage in the lesson.

Arya wanted to say Speak for yourself, but refrained her tongue. Her dragon was already mad enough with her.

Now, Fírnen... Eragon started with caution, how would you like me to address you, as just a friend or as your teacher?

Eragon and Fírnen had just took off from the hill where they had been having their lessons. Arya and Saphira stayed on the ground, while Eragon showed Fírnen the next part of their teachings. The green dragon was easily gaining altitude, helped by his well-developed muscle mass.

As my teacher, master. I wish to learn all I can from you and Saphira. Fírnen spoke with humility.

Right. Then, this is the last time I'm going to use words with you, just the way I teach the dragons and the new Riders. Understood?

Yes, master.

So, answer me this. Do you feel Saphira through my bond with her? His voice turned strict and emotionless.

Yes, master.

Why is that?

Fírnen hesitated, and Eragon perceived that the dragon thought his question was too obvious.

Because you are her Rider, so you have a bond with her.

Yes. And who is your Rider, Fírnen? Am I your Rider?

No, master, Arya is. His confusion to Eragon's silly questions amused the Rider, but he didn't let it show.

So why are you only connected to me and completely shut down to her?

It was fun for Eragon to meddle in their personal war. He thought it was the funniest thing that Fírnen was giving Arya the silent treatment because of her involuntary thoughts.

Fírnen started and his mind was filled with guilt for letting his Rider out. Immediately, he reestablished their bond, and Arya's annoyed voice spoke in their minds.

Thank you.

Sorry.

Good, now that everybody is included, let's begin.

As promised, Eragon stopped the use of words. Instead, he communicated the instructions through images, emotions and memories, the way he was constantly instructed by the Eldunarí. He found immensely easier to use the innate language of the dragons than translate it into words. For Fírnen, the method could feel overwhelming in the beginning, since he spent most of his time around his Rider and the other elves from Du Weldenvarden. Despite that, Eragon knew he would rapidly grow used to it, because Fírnen had trained under the Eldunarí Eragon had left in Ellesméra, and he was sure they communicated this way most of the time, being part of the instinctive nature of their kind.

It didn't take long to Fírnen get the hang of the lessons Eragon was trying to teach him. From teacher to student, flowed information about the synchronicity between dragon and Rider when in the air, particularly when traveling through the difficult air flows Saphira talked about. He instigated Fírnen to assume the different flying positions Fírnen had just learned and watch how Eragon reacted in the saddle.

In a particularly dangerous maneuver, Eragon's head bobbed uncontrollably missing one of Fírnen's neck spikes by mere inches. Eragon replayed the memory to the dragon, who cringed with guilt for nearly hurting his teacher, and from that moment he assumed an overprotective posture during the turns and falls. Once more, Eragon played a memory in his mind.

He showed Fírnen the battle in Tronjheim, where he was fighting the shade Durza and almost succumbing to his injuries, when the Star Saphire was shattered by Arya, who came down in an impressive speed toward the ground on Saphira's back. Eragon couldn't hide all the pain he felt on his back from the wound Durza inflicted on him, so attached it was to the memory, and Fírnen flinched a little, missing a beat of his wings. The memory was played again, this time Eragon emphasized how steep and fast Saphira's descent was, and how capable of maintaining herself in place Arya was, despite holding an extremely draining spell to keep the shards from hitting Eragon on the ground. And all of that when she wasn't even a Rider yet.

Fírnen's thoughts started to run out of control, what Eragon thought strange, since the dragon demonstrated nothing more than composure and order in his line of thought so far. Being Arya's dragon, discipline was only expected of him. Sending a quiet question through their connection, Eragon intended to search for the cause to such disarray. Almost immediately, their minds were taken by the same memory, but from a different perspective. Arya's. Fírnen showed Eragon what idea he had from that moment, a bloody and hurt young Rider, crimson blade in hand, with eyes of extreme pain, looking up. Then, in a matter of seconds, the blade entering the shade's heart, freeing the spirits from the evil entity's core. Eragon saw himself falling to the ground and felt pity of himself. And for as touching as Fírnen's empathy was, he was diverting the subject. So Eragon cleared their minds and gripped Fírnen's consciousness with iron shackles in order to make it uncomfortable enough that the dragon would let his emotions go and focus only on what Eragon was trying to say.

Little by little, after understanding his master's intentions, Fírnen eased his racing thoughts and replayed the memories about almost piercing Eragon's head with his spike, then taking extra care in his maneuvers, and Arya holding herself on Saphira's back in Tronjheim. Then, he communicated that he understood that Arya wasn't defenseless, and he didn't need to be so watchful of her all the time.

Eragon patted the dragon's neck in approval and started imprinting inside Fírnen's mind the difference between being watchful of his partner's well-being and being overprotective. He explained silently that, sometimes, in battle or in a moment of great danger, both mind and spoken communication could be compromised, so reading the body signs of each other would save their lives. He proceeded indicating that a movement of his feet or a squeeze of his thighs could mean a request to move right or left, higher or lower. Leaning forward or back also meant different things, so the touch of the Rider's hands on the dragon's neck. But he made very clear that each pair had their own unspoken communication, and it was Fírnen's job to read Arya's body signs.

In that moment, a feeling of anxiety crossed Fírnen's mind, that he explained as being embarrassment for training so many dragons and Riders without passing this knowledge to them. Eragon didn't care to respond. He simply signaled for them to get back to the hill, where Saphira and Arya waited patiently.

When he dismounted, Eragon walked around to face Fírnen eye to eye.

"Listen carefully, Fírnen." He felt the dragon's attention solely on him. "You are far beyond average. Sure, you have the advantage of being bonded with an experienced and wise Rider, most dragons don't have the same luck, but regardless, you are far more talented than any dragon I have ever met, except for Saphira."

Fírnen hummed with the compliments.

"What I just showed to you may seem simple, a basic knowledge, but takes many years for a pair to be accomplished in maintaining such synchronicity. It must be practiced intensely between dragon and Rider. Even Saphira and I, we are still learning, despite being raised in the middle of a war, having to improve ourselves in a way faster rate than normal. But you are a child of peace, you have time. There's no need to be anxious or embarrassed about it. All right?"

Yes, master.

"Besides, your job is to give the first instructions, to make sure the students will arrive here safe and in one piece." Eragon smiled and patted Fírnen's snout. "Good. Now, you fly with your Rider and, without speaking to her, you will execute exactly the same movements as Saphira and respond to Arya's body language."

Arya approached her dragon and jumped to his saddle, Eragon did the same to Saphira.

"And remember, keep your mind open to us."

He said that to Fírnen, who agreed and kept the connection, but he also felt Arya's melody sound louder in his mind, being directly connected to him, not only through her bond with Fírnen. He realized that all four of them were merged in one big consciousness, in a way he had never felt before. He saw with his physical eyes as Arya gasped, her eyes darting to look at him.

Do you feel it? He asked her.

This bond, it's… She hesitated.

…vast. Fírnen completed. I'm impressed too.

Eragon smiled.

I didn't expect that our minds would connect so well with each other.

No, I think it's unprecedented. Saphira also seemed shocked by their ability to merge together.

And you Saphira, it's like you have an entire forest inside you mind, so rich and precious. I'm impressed. Arya complimented.

Saphira stretched her neck to blow warm air on Arya's hair, which made the elf smile with fondness.

All right, are you ready? Eragon spoke for the last time, before taking off with Saphira. He mixed his perception's with Saphira's, so they could evaluate their students' performance as one, at the same time the open channel with the other pair's thoughts resounded inside his head.

Since they acted as one conscious being, around them all, Eragon raised several layers of protective walls. If someone was to try and invade their defenses, they would be protected, even being so open to one another.

No one spoke a word during their flight. Occasionally, Arya would let it pass – intentionally, he was sure – an observation about the conditions of the wind or how harmonious Saphira and Eragon looked flying together. The pair, on the other hand, didn't let any words pass, they only observed how Fírnen was doing.

After a handful of well executed maneuvers from Fírnen, Eragon nudged Saphira with his right foot, indicating that she should take a turn right and descent into a helix. She didn't take two seconds to respond and began performing the move. Fírnen dove after her, doing with perfection exactly what she was doing, but he also did exactly what Eragon was expecting. In their minds, Arya's exclamation resounded, and Eragon turned his head back to see her body thrown back, hands in the air, completely opposite to his stance on Saphira. He was leaning forward, head down, hands firm on the spike in front of him.

As one, dragons and Riders decided to get back to the hill.

When they all reached their usual spot, Eragon untangled their minds and approached Arya, who was unbinding herself from the saddle.

"Are you all right?" He asked gently but amused at the same time.

Her expression was much stricter than his.

"Will you explain to him what he did wrong?" She jumped down.

Eragon shook his head.

"No, he will."

Fírnen turned to look at them.

What do you mean? I did what you told me to do. I followed Saphira!

"Are you sure?"

Saphira played to Fírnen the memory of Eragon instructing Fírnen about reading Arya's body language, then she showed his Rider holding a very dangerous stance on his saddle.

"Are you sure you did what I told you to? Because I specifically instructed you to pay attention to you Rider's body language. So how can you enter a deadly spin toward the ground without being sure she's in the right position to be safe during the descent?" Eragon was serious, but not malicious. He wasn't trying to make the dragon feel bad.

Fírnen looked from one to another, he seemed betrayed, like they tried to make him fail.

You knew I would fail! He growled.

Eragon sighed and smiled with kindness.

"Aye. I also knew you would never let Arya hurt herself. But I needed you to experience this feeling of failure, of disconnection between you two, so you could value the subtle hints she gives you up there."

The dragon seemed shaken.

"We will do better next time, I promise." Arya spoke in the most subservient manner possible without addressing Saphira and Eragon as masters.

Eragon nodded to her and turned to Fírnen. He waited. After a minute, the dragon seemed to get back to himself.

Yes, masters, we will be better.

Eragon opened a big smile and got closer to Fírnen.

"Of course you will. And knowing the two of you the way I do, I know you will master this technique in no time at all." He caressed the soft spot under Fírnen's jaw. "And we better practice, if we want to go meet the wild dragons."

Fírnen and Arya reacted at the same time. The dragon wiggled his tail and looked from Eragon to Saphira repeated times. Arya dropped her jaw.

"The wild dragons? I thought you said they had found a hidden lair."

"I did. It's hidden to the world, not us." Eragon said casually.

Will they allow us to visit them? Fírnen's excitement could almost be touched.

They will, because you will be with me. Saphira said.

"Saphira is our link to them. She is respected as their elder, so we should be fine. But it's a difficult flight to get there, and there's the possibility of us angering them to the point they decide to use mental attacks on us. That's why I'm instructing you to use body language instead of mental communication."

Arya seemed concerned, opposite to her partner's posture. He was almost jumping up and down.

Eragon smiled to him.

"Now, calm yourself, it's time to rest, my friend. Enough with the lessons for today. Enough with calling me master for today too." He laughed, and the dragon's mood eased under Eragon's affection.

All right. Thank you for the lesson, Eragon and Saphira. I'm looking forward to our trip to the hidden lair.

"Of course." Eragon said gently.

Would you remove my saddle, little one? I wish to fly away with Fírnen. And I suspect you and Arya have a lot to talk about, don't you?

Eragon felt her affection pouring through their connection and went to remove Saphira's saddle. She didn't say it, but he knew that she was as happy as he was that Arya reciprocated his advances.

I believe so. Go, but don't forget about me.

She nudged him with her snout.

Never, little one. Never.

Arya removed Fírnen's saddle as well and went to sit on the ledge of the hill. The dragons took flight, leaving their Riders mesmerized by their incredible beauty.

Eragon took a deep breath and moved to grab a water skin attached to the saddle, before sitting by Arya's side. He drank half of the skin's content in big gulps and offered the rest to her. She took it gladly.

"Do we have to talk more about last night?" He asked.

Arya seemed to think about it whilst drinking the water.

"I don't think it's necessary. It's been discussed already." She closed the water skin and put it aside. "But I would like to address the fact that brought us there. Your refusal to fight."

Eragon didn't expect that. Whenever he thought he was about to have a light and enjoyable time with Arya, things took a difficult turn. He shook his head and looked away to the sunny lands. The Edda River was gleaming under the bright blue sky.

"I don't think I want to. It's not a favorable subject for us to talk about."

"It's only because I wasn't being honest about how I feel when we talked about it before. You weren't either."

Eragon waited to see if she would continue, still looking away. She didn't at first, but moved closer to him, until her arm was rested around his waist and her chin on his shoulder.

"It hurts to think you won't come to our aid when the time comes. That's how I feel." Her words came out on a soft tone, her breath brushing his neck.

"Hurt?" Eragon turned his head slightly to her, their cheeks were almost touching. "Why would you feel hurt? It's not like you're defenseless, Arya. You are as skilled as I am, more even, in many aspects." He was confused.

She sighed.

"It's not that I'm afraid I won't be able to handle the threats or any other pressing matters. But I feel you are leaving me behind, just like you did when you left Alagaësia."

Eragon noticed she was trying her best to be honest about her feelings. They rarely talked about feelings rather than their opinions, and he felt it was a good opportunity for them to get even closer.

"You feel that I'm letting you out of this decision too?"

Arya nodded, without moving her face away from his.

He took a deep breath and looked forward.

"I never mean to exclude you from my decisions. But I don't know how much of my life do you want me to share with you. Because this is a life decision, not a strategic one. And this is how I feel."

"Why don't you tell me what made you choose not to fight anymore? I want you to share it with me."

Eragon sighed. It was possible that Arya would think he was weak minded. That indeed he was a coward for letting the ghosts of his past haunt him like that. Possibly she would think his hardships weren't as bad as hers, for she went through loss over loss, imprisonment, torture, more loss, self-sacrifice and endless challenges that he didn't even know about. But since she was asking, her interest in his feelings seemed genuine. He decided to open up about it.

"I'm too busy most of my days. I don't have time to think about my feelings or how my past experiences affect me today. But when everything is silent, when I'm alone at night, I see the things I've done, and they won't let me rest."

Eragon felt her free hand enlacing his waist as well, as it went to meet her other one.

"I know they were war acts and all that I did was justified. That's what I tell myself, at least. But it won't stop my mind from racing from dead eye to dead eye, blank expression to blank expression. All of them lying lifeless on the battlefield. I don't want to fight because I can't handle its outcome, not the way other fighters do. I rather stay back, working the strategy instead of wielding the blade myself. Even a sparring blade can make my head hurt from all the memories."

Arya kept quiet. What if she was judging him? She had seen how his mind was more disciplined and powerful than before, surely she judged him weak for not taming his stray thoughts. Well, he judged himself for it. After all the work he had done in the last decade, he still wasn't able to block the images of death and gore inside his mind. Why not? Glaedr once told him that maybe he wanted to see it, so he wouldn't do it again, or it was a form of self-punishment. Either way, it was torture, and he wanted nothing to do with all the actions that triggered such self-destructive thoughts.

"Say something." He pled.

Arya moved away and held his hand.

"I do it too." She whispered. "I keep torturing myself with images from the past, just to see how much I can take."

Eragon stared into her eyes. He was grateful she didn't judge him, but was worried that she was going through something similar. Arya didn't deserve it.

"Are we crazy?" He asked.

She smiled gently and brushed his beard with her other hand.

"We are hurt. Hurt people do crazy things, don't they?"

Eragon knew it too well.

"Do you think we will always feel this way? I don't want to be a coward for the rest of my life."

Arya's look turned into a strict expression as she grabbed the both side of his face.

"Don't say that! You are not a coward. I only said it to provoke a reaction in you. It was crazy and stupid." She softened her stare. "But I was hurt. I felt lost before your constant changing."

"And hurt people do crazy things." He smiled kindly, which she responded in the same manner.

"We will learn how to deal someday. But that day is not today. Our pain is still fresh inside." She stated and retreated her hands.

"We can help each other, right?"

"We must, for I fear there's no one else in the world that understands it better than us."

Eragon agreed. He looked away again, thinking of how much pain they both had combined between them. Both lost their parents, both knew loss very early in life. They fought, killed and cried. Their hearts were severed more times than he could count. But still, they were making themselves available for new feelings to grow, even when reason said it was wrong.

"So…" Arya started hesitantly. "Does it mean you will never want to spar with me again?"

Eragon felt the pressure fleeing his chest. After all they said, she was still concerned about his refusal to train with her?

"And that's the most important thing you got out of our conversation?"

She laughed, and he could feel the pressure exiting her as well.

"It is important. So, what do you say?"

Eragon hesitated. He wasn't sure how much of a trigger sparring with her would be, for he remembered having a lot of fun in the past, so maybe it was worth a try.

"Maybe. It might do some good, after all."

Arya smiled, like a child that was gifted with candy. She leaned in to him, and placed a delicate kiss on his lips.

"I think I want to spar with you all the time if this is the reward." He teased.

"Silly." She said, but kissed him again.

The taste of her mouth was incomparable to anything he's proven before. But it wasn't just her taste that locked him in a haze. It was her smell, the touch of her hands through his hair, the pressure of her body on his. There was also the little sounds she made when he's mouth would get too eager on hers. When he thought the whole experience was too much for his heart to handle, her left hand let go of his hair and reached behind her back. In a second she unlocked the door and slip through it into the dark hallway.

"Good night, Eragon." Her soft voice echoed inside his head and put him to bed that night.

Maybe Arya wasn't the only one distracted by last night after all.