For Alagaesia: 55. Childish

Revelry, it seemed was built into dragons. Ever since the sun had risen, the little dragon had not rested. He jumped around at anything he saw. And he always stopped on his tracks whenever his eyes settled on the sun. The sun held a very important part in dragon’s lives, Eragon knew. Saphira had expressed her wish to fly in the Hadarac for hours on end without aim many times over to him and he had promised her that he would accompany her when she embarked on such a trip.

The Du Weldenvarden was a place of abundance, except for sunlight. And Eragon was starting to hate that part of the forest. Earlier it had held a fascination: the concept of eternal twilight was so spiritual and to tell the truth, it still was fascinating. But for one thing: The little green thing could have been tied down if the sun was shining on them all the time, what with his interest in gazing at the sun and all. With the sun’s absence though, he was acting quite strange, running off behind anything that moved, be it leaves or frogs.

Keeping an eye on him was the most difficult thing for he was small and often got lost inside bushes. Arya was still nervous and every time he was out of sight she started to sweat as if she were feeling sick. Saphira told her to relax, but it seemed Arya had still not made peace with the fact that she was a dragon rider. She kept on scratching her gedwey ignasia, as if to try and make it go away. Eragon was quite amused to be honest. Seeing Arya in such a vulnerable state was definitely funny. She had always been the grown-up between the two, handling nearly every situation better than him. These actions from the elven princess showcased the ‘younger side’ of her as he deemed to put it.

All his apprehensions about Arya rejecting ridership had long since evaporated and he now knew it for a fact that Arya was in disbelief rather than denial. It was a quick improvement and knowing Arya he knew she would adapt soon.

Meanwhile, the green nuisance was in another bout of trouble-making, running after a mongoose. The mongoose was slightly larger than him and still the dragon seemed to think that the animal was inferior to him. Arya twitched, trying to run after the green dragon and then deciding against it. But her eyes darted around like a deer caught between a lion and a tiger, following every action of the little dragon.

Eragon was growing restless. ‘Oh these dragons!! Is there no end to their pride?’, he said to Saphira as if she weren’t a dragon at all. Saphira who was flying above them growled, a warning for Eragon to refrain his thoughts.

‘What? It’s not like you are so down-to-earth.’, Eragon challenged her.

‘Aye, puny two-leg, we take pride in being proud.’, Saphira replied in her typically Angela-like way.

‘What kind of logic is that?’, Eragon asked.

‘You won’t understand. It is for us, dragons, to understand.’

‘Yes, great one. I surrender. Now what do I do with Arya?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe hug her or something.’ Saphira replied teasingly.

‘Saphira, you are not helping. See her. She looks like a caged bird.’, Eragon chided.

‘Oh, you two-legs!! I am watching over the little one. Is it not enough? You need to give him his freedom. Don’t pamper him. He is a dragon.’ Saphira replied quite seriously.

‘Dragon, he may be. But he is young and just hours have passed since he hatched.’

Saphira ignored him. But he could feel her agreement. She didn’t want to lose the last of her race to petty things of the forest.

‘Maybe I could scare him. Again.’, Saphira offered. Every time Saphira bared her teeth at the little hatchling, he ran(half-flew) to Arya and perched himself atop her palms.

‘Um, sounds like a good plan to me.’, Eragon was mumbling when Saphira said, ‘Go soon.’ and sent him an image of a nearby bush that led straight into some sort of hole.

Arya had already sprinted in the direction Saphira mentioned and Eragon followed her. Even before he could register what was happening Arya knelt down near the bush not caring to shield her body from thorns and literally pulled the annoyed little dragon from the hole.

She stood up and faced Eragon as if accusing him of something. But Eragon wasn’t exactly sure what the look on her face meant.

“He needs food.”, Arya said simply.

“Oh?”, Eragon replied still not understanding what made Arya and Saphira act as they did. The dragon was hungry, yes, but that was no reason for them to panic. Hunger was expected of a dragon who had spent thousands of years locked away inside a shell.

‘He was trying to enter the hole, Eragon.’, Saphira reasoned.

‘And?’, Eragon couldn’t understand why that alarmed them.

‘He was chasing a mongoose and the mongoose was after a snake.’, Saphira explained.

Eragon’s eyes widened in horror. He was shocked to say the least. Snakes were the worst kind of danger for a young dragon. And he didn't like how both Arya and Saphira had noticed the danger while he had been blind to it.

‘That fellow really attracts trouble.’, Saphira accepted Eragon’s earlier assertion. Not many dragons would meet a snake in their young days. But this fellow had not just seen one but had chased one into its own lair.

‘He is so much like you, Eragon.’, Saphira said affectionately.

Eragon protested, but weakly, since he was not able to concentrate on Saphira for he noticed Arya stroking the little dragon’s head, trying to keep him from jumping off back into the hole. The dragon looked eager.

Saphira saw this scene through Eragon’s eyes and without much thought dived down, crashing into tree branches, breaking them. She reached the ground in a matter of seconds, her hunting instincts helping her, and shattered the hole with her talons.

The mongoose that had been nosing into the hole let out a screeching noise and saw skyward. And the snake that had already entered the hole seethed. At the sight of each other, the two primates simply stopped noticing anything else, including Saphira.

The little dragon seemed interested. He stopped struggling and looked on, his green eyes fixed on the two strange creatures before him. Eragon too, fascinated at the prospect of seeing the famed struggle between a mongoose and a snake focussed on the two animals.

The snake hissed raising its hood going to the kill at the first shot. But the mongoose was fast. Its lithe body curved and moved away at the last moment rendering the snake’s bite useless. It didn’t stop at this successful defence but also entered into offensive, trying to bite off the snake’s tail with its sharp teeth. The snake, equally fast, slithered away from the mongoose’s teeth leaving the graceful animal to bite grass. At the same time, the snake raised its head trying to bite the mongoose’s back. But the mongoose was fast enough to writhe away from its position.

The dance of two of the deadliest hunters of the land had fascinated the hunters of the sky so much that the little dragon forgot all his inhibitions and stood side by side with Saphira, having escaped Arya’s grasp. He had even forgotten his hunger.

Eragon, captivated by the death-dance as much as Saphira was to it, looked on to find the winner of the seemingly evenly matched opponents. Arya who stood by his side looked equally intrigued.

The mongoose, it seemed had a slithery skin that inhibited the snake from curling itself around it. As time went by, Eragon started feeling that the fight would go on eternally. Just when he thought that though, the mongoose got the snake by its head and tore the neck of the snake away from its body.

‘That, little one, is your first hunting lesson. Always attack the weakest part of your prey, and keep away from its strongest point.’, Saphira said to the green dragon whose jaws had dropped open at the marvellous display. Her actual rendering of the knowledge included a series of images and smells of which Eragon couldn’t make any sense. But the little dragon had obviously caught what Saphira meant for a feeling of understanding poured out of his mind.

Arya smiled at the cute expression her dragon made to indicate his understanding: a curt nod and a blink of his brilliant green eye.

The mongoose, meanwhile, having noticed Saphira’s presence tried to race away from the spot. With all the grace of a fighting mongoose, Saphira pounced on the mongoose sinking her talons into the animal’s back. Eragon winced at the sight of the death of the glorious fighter he had silently cheered moments ago.

‘And this, small one, is your food.’, Saphira said dropping the mongoose at the feet of the green dragon.

The dragon looked at the dead animal and without further ado, put his mouth onto the torn part of the mongoose's back. His sharp, yet small teeth tore a little slice of meat from the mongoose's body. But that was all the opening in the mongoose's body allowed him to do. He ate the piece and then started circling the dead animal, trying to find one weak spot where his little teeth could tear flesh. Seeing no such opening, he tried to cut open the mongoose's body with his whiter-than-milk talons. But he wasn't able to.

He grappled with the mongoose's body for a long while. Arya poured energy into his body, revitalising him when he started feeling tired. Saphira decided to watch rather than help. That was how little dragons grew up, she said when Eragon asked her to help.

'But little dragons don't have mongooses for their first meal.', Eragon protested.

'This will make him strong.', Saphira tried to defend. But something in her voice said that she concurred with Eragon.

'Fine! Then let him come for help.', Saphira said.

Eragon waited. The little dragon tried hard, so much harder than Eragon expected him to, utilising much of Arya's energy in the process. But soon he realised that his teeth wasn't (yet) strong enough to tear a mongoose's skin. He left the body and moved near Arya.

He bit the end of Arya's legging and tried to pull her towards the mongoose. His action was so unexpected that Eragon couldn't control the mirth that rose up at the sight. It looked perfectly similar to a pampered child's interaction with its mother. He openly laughed at the sight.

Arya looked just the opposite of him. She tried to shake off the dragon pulling her and her face looked bewildered and worried. But she budged eventually as the dragon never left her side even after she pushed him away twice.

Arya slowly walked up to dead animal and picked the mongoose up in her hand. She took a brilliant silver dagger from her belt and tried to skin the animal. Her face was so convoluted that Eragon felt Arya's displeasure at having to skin an animal.

He knew Arya would feel repulsed at her action as would any other elf. They simply hated killing and hence never looked back at their kills in battle where they are forced to do so. But this scenario where Arya was forced to skin an animal for her dragon would be incredibly difficult for elves.

It wasn't that elves, especially dragon riders, feel repulsive about skinning an animal. In fact, most of the rider-elves of the old were adept at the art. But that was because they practised it from a very young age – when dragons were supposed to hatch for elves. In Arya's case, it wasn't so. She was already a hundred years old and hence had developed a repulsion towards skinning animals. Eragon knew this was just one very little problem among the many that Arya's age would pose, with regard to her development as a dragon rider. He thought that this would be a lesson for the elven princess to adjust. And hence he reasoned that it was necessary to make Arya do this.

But Arya's reaction was so painful that Eragon wanted to relieve her of the work. Even the little dragon seemed to notice Arya's aversion. He jumped up and tried to push away the dead animal from her hand. Further, Arya's handling was so clumsy that it reminded Eragon of himself, eight or nine years ago, when he had skinned his first animal – a squirrel.

“Hand it over to me.”, Eragon said.

Arya jerked her head up towards him and a look of immense gratitude came over her face. She hastily pushed the dead mongoose into Eragon's hands. Eragon smiled inwardly at this act from Arya. It looked so childish, especially since it was Arya who was acting so unsure of herself, a rare thing to happen with her. He liked to see Arya this way as much as he liked to see the surer version of her. This somehow made him feel like she was similar to him.

Eragon pulled out his old hunting knife from the belt of Beloth, the wise and examined it for a while to see if it was still sharp enough to cut skin. Although, he didn’t use it anymore, he carried it always with him. It was his way of remembering and honouring his uncle.

Arya looked mildly surprised at the crude human tool in his hand. She frowned at him probably thinking why he carried such a simple and relatively useless weapon with him. Her dragon mirrored her expression.

Eragon smiled at the cute little dragon and said to Arya by way of explanation, “My uncle made this for my birthday. I carry it to… um.. remember.”

Arya nodded. She let the enquiring expression on her face go and concentrated on Eragon’s work. He put the animal down on a stone and slowly began skinning it. He had his initial doubts as it was years since he had last skinned an animal as large as the mongoose in his hands. He also felt bad to do it since he vividly remembered the vibrant animal thrumming with energy that had fought and won against an equally active snake just minutes ago. His fingers fumbled for a few seconds. But soon, it was like the old days doing a routine work at which Eragon was adept. He marvelled at how easily he could roll back the years and feel as if nothing had changed since those days when he hunted in the Spine for food.

It was so surreal and it reminded him of his eternal living. Nothing ever changes. To notice any significant change in life, it took hundreds of years or so he guessed. Times like these reminded him of another thing: however old Arya may seem to the human mind, she was still a child in the elven ways. And it made him smile – because Arya had called him a child, while she herself was no older than one, atleast in the eyes of her race. In contrast, Eragon was a nearly full grown man in the eyes of humans. He laughed audibly at such thoughts.

‘Best friends you may be, but say to Arya that she is a mere child, she would probably slit your throat.’, Saphira warned. Eragon agreed. Arya liked to think of her as an old lady. And for some reason that thought to made him laugh – this time ridiculously.

“Were you mocking me?”, Arya asked all of a sudden.

Eragon knew not what to answer her and he knew not how Arya guessed that he had been thinking of her.

“Yes, I can’t skin an animal. Is something so wrong about it?”, Arya challenged.

Eragon sighed. It was so much better than he had feared. Arya had thought that he and Saphira were mocking her for not being able to skin an animal. And yet again he could only smile. He had never dreamt, even in his dreams, of Arya being capable of such juvenile irascibility.

‘It stems from her need to be dependent on you’, Saphira said. ‘You know her, don’t you? Her pride resists her from being dependent.’

‘Yes, Saphira, I can see and I fear that it is going to be a hurdle in her ridership. She has to be dependent on the dragon. That is what being dragon and rider is all about. Being dependent on each other.’, Eragon replied.

‘Oh, she will learn.’, Saphira brushed aside his apprehension.

“No Arya we weren’t mocking you. Besides, how can I mock you when even I, who has skinned animals for years, feel repulsed by it now?”, Eragon replied to Arya’s stare and earlier question.

“Yet you do, when I can’t.”, Arya said. There was a hard tone to her words, like she was disgusted with herself.

“Oh, Arya. It really isn’t going to last. Tomorrow he will be able to hunt for himself.”, Eragon replied implying indirectly that she wasn’t going to be dependent on him for long. He hoped it would quench her ‘thirst for hurt’ as he named her independent disposition.

It was one quality he had come to love in Arya: her being independent. But now, with her becoming a dragon rider, he knew she had to let go of it, atleast with her dragon. That, he decided would be Arya’s foremost lesson for he knew that she had trained under Oromis much as himself and had knowledge about nearly every topic on riders, perhaps better than him. Of course, there were exceptions: those that were taught only to riders.

He had, by then, cut the mongoose’s flesh into fine pieces of meat. He took one piece and offered it to Arya’s dragon. The little dragon sniffed at the food being offered to him. And then looked up into Eragon’s face. Promptly, he backed off and went to stand right beside Arya.

Saphira huffed. ‘Like rider, like dragon.’, she commented.

“Perhaps you should try.”, Eragon said and offered the piece of meat to Arya.

Arya, who looked uncomfortable at the actions of her dragon, took the meat from him delicately. The little dragon watched the transfer of hands with obvious glee. Eragon humph-ed mock-threateningly at the little dragon. But he took no notice of Eragon or to tell the truth ignored Eragon as if he were no one of consequence.

And when Arya offered him the meat, he didn’t wait for her to take it near his face. He simply jumped up to her hand, caught the meat by his mouth and literally, plucked it away from Arya. He swallowed the somewhat large looking meat in one gulp.

Arya almost gasped at this. Eragon, wasn’t as surprised as Arya – he had experience with Dragon’s eating habits having fed Saphira when she was little. “They do tend to amaze us unendingly.”, he said.

Having finished the meat, the dragon looked hungrily at Eragon’s hand which held more pieces of meat. When Eragon tried to offer him the meat, he just stood in between Eragon and Arya and made a movement of his neck from Eragon to Arya. It was a gesture that said, “Pass the meat onto her, you idiot.” – the dragon’s mean expression ensuring the addition of the word ‘idiot.’

Eragon shrugged. Saphira huffed. Arya smiled.

Then Eragon passed on all of the meat to Arya. Arya looked fondly at the little creature that trusted only her. And Saphira complained, ‘See. I told you he is vain!’

Arya glared at Saphira. Saphira bore the stare and yet again Eragon couldn’t control his laughter. It was now all the three others who were behaving childish while he felt as if he was the one matured person who had to guide them out of their petty fights. That thought itself brought with it many more fits of laughter to him.

The little dragon apparently bored with Eragon’s laughter jumped again and tore chunks of the meat. His abrupt action caught Arya off-guard and she jumped indignantly.

All three elders, Saphira, Arya and Eragon broke out into laughter at this point for no reason at all. The young dragon not caring about the other’s mirth hungrily tore the pieces of meat with his talons and teeth.

And when the three elders finished with their laughter, only bones were left of the mongoose’s body.

‘He has an unending pit for a stomach.’, Saphira said.

Eragon agreed. ‘And so had you’, he said to Saphira. ‘If I had let you live in my home, you would have finished off our meat for the winter in a week’s time.’

Saphira stared at Eragon. ‘I am not so mean, little one.’, she said.

‘But your appetite for food was.’, Eragon replied.

‘Very funny!’, Saphira said and took off into the air, stunning the young dragon who was in the process of cleaning the gore from his scales.

After a while, she asked, ‘Eragon, why are you still walking? The little one has had his moments on the ground. Now let him enjoy being in the sky, as he should. Let me carry you. That way we could reach Ellesmera much quicker.’

‘No Saphira. There is something that has to be addressed.’, Eragon said simply.

‘What?’, Saphira asked irritated that she had missed something that Eragon had figured out.

‘Arya. She has not yet become accustomed to having her dragon around. Let us walk and give her time to settle. Ellemera would be… different.’, he said.

The elves of Ellesmera would not like to see their princess being so uneasy with ridership, especially when she has become the last dragon rider of the old order of dragons. Saphira agreed.

Author’s Note:

It was sort-of-fluff, yes. The good kind, I thought.

Hope you liked it and hope I hadn’t crossed the limits with Arya’s character. She is so much different in this chapter from her usual self, I know, but I made her that way intentionally.

I thought that Arya would find it difficult to adjust with the fact that she is a rider and hence become a little more dependent on Eragon especially considering that she had openly admitted that he was her best friend.

And after three years in Eragon and Saphira’s company, she must trust them now. Because that has been an established quality of hers: trusting her long-time and intimate friends with her life, as she did Faolin. Eragon and Saphira have replaced Faolin’s place in Arya’s heart or rather attained an equal footing with Faolin in Arya's mind. That’s how I see it. What do you think? Tell me.

And I also know Eragon is looking, sounding and feeling soooo happy and that is because, he is. He is happy at having Arya as a co-rider. So, unknown to himself, he laughs a lot. Is it okay?