Synopsis: Eragon had an unsettling dream and confided in Nasuada.
Eragon walked through the ordered array of tents cradling Glaedr's Eldunari in both arms. Saphira, tired, did not bother to fly, for walking beside her Rider as he held Glaedr felt cathartic. Both Eragon and Saphira felt the weight of the night as a page hustled to greet Eragon to show him his quarters. Another page, taller than the other and appearing to be the elder sibling, pointed to Saphira's reserved area, should she so choose to go there. A fat cow was set to stray in the area designated for her. At the moment, Saphira did not want to leave Eragon's side. She felt that she should be there when Glaedr wanted to speak. It was anxiousness both Eragon and Saphira shared to not loose Glaedr into the depths of sorrow.
Eragon finally reached his tent and sat on his cot holding Glaedr in his lap. He had not bothered to remove his sword and felt the awkward positioning. He sighed deeply and arose to his feet, gently laying the Eldunari on his cot in the center of his pillow. Glaedr looked like a comfy nestled egg. Saphira positioned her head so as to maintain a constant visual of Eragon, but she remained quiet. Eragon removed his sword and belt and continued disrobing his garb of war. Saphira's silence caused Eragon to look at her, but still no words, no words. He continued undressing and inspected his gear, incanting spells as needed to clean and repair them. He then approached an empty tub and spoke the words for water to appear. When the tub water reached half full, he ended the spell. Grabbing his wash cloth and soap, he sat in the tub with a groan of satisfaction. He lathered himself thoroughly before placing his soap and wash cloth on a small, square box table by the side of the tub. He, feeling freed of the smell of blood, leaned back in the tub and drifted into a light nap. He leaned his head back with his face toward the top of his tent. His lips were slightly parted.
A light appeared to descend from the top of the tent. It was a small soft violet hue of light with a radial glow. The light felt and appeared benign and comforting. As it continued to lower itself, Eragon's breathing became hastened. The light came to a stop within inches from Eragon's face. It appeared to reverse slowly. Coming to a stop at its new position, it hung there mid-air --then dove into Eragon's mouth.
Eragon sat up immediately, gulping himself awake. He whirled his head toward Saphira and pressed for confirmation that he was not the only one to see that. Saphira lifted her large head and said, to Eragon's disappointment, that she didn't see anything.
He mad-dashed out of the tub and wrapped himself in a towel. After drying off, he dressed himself in a white linen tunic and white linen drawstring pants. He was restless in his thoughts, sitting on his cot staring at Glaedr. Saphira finally spoke in her thoughts again to Eragon. "It was only a dream little one." Eragon's thoughts replied, "I know, but what does it mean. The dreams I've been having lately have all been well, rather prophetic. They seem to be telling me something about the future. What could be the light Saphira?" She huffed lightly "I do not know."
Eragon flung the position of his head downward and sighed, tightly closing his eyes. After a moment, he slipped on his shoes and as he made his way to the exit of his tent, he turned to look at Glaedr nestled on his pillow and then to Saphira. Eragon let her know he was going for a walk to Nasuada's tent perchance to stay awake a little while longer, per chance to ward off dreams.
Eragon was so restless his foot pace was in short quick steps. Nasuada's tent was not far from his, but because his tent was situated near a large plot of open field for Saphira, his tent was nearer to the outskirts of the tent arrangements. Upon reaching Nasuada's tent, he was greeted by all six Nighthawks. They usually step aside as he approached, but this time they asked Eragon to wait a moment. One of them signaled to Farica inside the tent that Eragon wished to see Lady Nasuada. Farica shook her head in affirmation that it was alright, Nasuada was done getting dressed, albeit for bed. Standing outside for those few moments did give Eragon's heart beat a chance to slow down. He became less anxious. The two Nighthawks that stood directly in front of the entrance to the pavilion stepped aside, as if with some authority that they could have actually prevented Eragon from entering. Eragon managed a humble grin and walked through the entrance. Nodding to Farica exiting the tent, he slowly continued inward until his eyes beheld Nasuada. His pace slowed even more the closer he came to her. As if a dazed man walking, he crossed his hand over his chest and greeted Nasuada with the elven gesture of fealty. Eragon's lips parted. His gesture of fealty to Nasuada had taken on a more profound meaning to him. His care for her gave his vow new meaning, he could feel her gravity as he knelt before her on one knee.
Nasuada acknowledged Eragon's greeting. While she sat on the edge of her cot, she asked him "What keeps you afoot at this hour Eragon?" He replied "My dreams. I just had one while I napped in the tub. A light from above descended into me shot right into my mouth." The way Eragon told his dream elicited a modest chuckle from Nasuada. He grinned in return and placed his hands over hers. As he fidgeted with Nasuada's fingers, he expressed a desire to know what it meant. Nasuada was unable to interpret any meaning from his dream, other than to say, "It somehow sounds like a good dream. I don't know why." Eragon stopped fidgeting with Nasuada's fingers and lifted her hand that was closest to his side. He pressed the palm of her left hand against his left cheek, holding it in place with his left hand. A silence overwhelmed the moment as Eragon closed his eyes. He leaned into her chest, lifting his head slightly to position his lips upon the soft sable skin of her neck. His long, shiny brown hair trickled down between her soft bosoms, which peaked up just above her white nightgown. His tanned flawless skin contrasted against Nasuada's shapely ebony mounds.
Nasuada had no resistance to be made known. Eragon's touch was sincere -a touch she never thought she would know from a man. Her life as daughter and successor of the leader of the Varden and her position as Commander in this war had played their part in isolating her from any average thoughtful suitors. Despite her isolation and duty, from time to time love and marriage crept into her thoughts. Eragon's occasional touch was a balm for Nasuada's longing. She brushed her left cheek against his forehead, while still holding his left cheek in the palm of her hand. Eragon was caressing her other hand in her lap. He gently let go of her right hand and moved his free hand to caress and massage Nasuada's right shoulder and her back. He lifted himself up and pressed himself closer against Nasuada, lifting her slightly so that she could lean back on her cot. It took but a little of Eragon's strength to maneuver Nasuada gently. As the back of Nasuada's head leaned onto her pillow, Eragon positioned himself next to her so that he faced the walkway. He laid his left arm across her torso and while palming her chin with his left hand, he leaned in to kiss her full, glistening lips. He then laid his head next to hers and squeezed her just so. Nasuada turned herself to face Eragon and as she moved her arms around him, Eragon leaned onto her, as if to cover her like a warm blanket. The pleasure of the intimate silence between them filled Eragon's heart with joy. Eragon and Nasuada drifted off into slumber holding each other through the night. By the still of the dark morning, Nasuada had rolled over with her back facing Eragon, who snuggly pressed against her. Eragon had removed his tunic, revealing the ripples of muscles cascading down his abdomen and veins along the muscles of his arms. At some point during the night, Eragon became elongated. His elongation pressed on Nasuada through her nightgown. His every inhale and exhale caused his elongation to gently rub between her thighs. Nasuada endured Eragon inadvertently afflicting her with pleasurable bouts of involuntary muscle contractions throughout the night. The gentle rubbing caused even Eragon to awaken himself mid-pleasure at least twice.
As the sun began to peak over the morning horizon, Saphira touched Eragon's mind. She had withdrawn from him a little during the night. She didn't want his sleep conscious pleasure causing her any heat. She wanted to let Eragon know she was leaving for the hunt and that Glaedr still had not spoken. Eragon shuffled himself awake and as he kneeled up over Nasuada, he incanted a cleansing spell for them both. He put on his tunic and roused Nasuada to let her know he was up and heading to his tent. Nasuada dreamily nodded in recognition. They kissed and embraced while she sat up. When Eragon exited her pavilion, the six Nighthawks standing guard raised their eyebrows with wide-eyed expression, all the while declining to actually address the circumstance of his morning departure. Eragon did not particularly care what they were thinking, for his liege and lover was his duty.
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