This One's for You

Eragon watched Murtagh pull against the horse's reins, signaling Tornac to stop. The sun hang in the sky, they had at least another hour of daylight they could have traveled before the gaze of the moon would force them to make camp.

"Why have we stopped?" Eragon followed Murtagh's lead, dismounting Snowfire after watching his dark companion do the same.

"There isn't another suitable campsite beyond this place. We stop here." He answered simply, tying up the two horses. He turned his back to the young rider to face the tunnel of old, forlorn trees. "Start a fire."

Eragon watched his shadow dissolve into the forest, his image gone but the feeling of Murtagh still clung to him desperately.

Attempting to push memories away, he collected fallen branches at the edge of the woods. The trees looked down at the blond boy collecting what once belonged to the mighty oaks.

What plagues you? Saphira questioned as she descended, finding a place to rest beside the horses.

Nothing He did not want to talk to Saphira.

He did not want to remember his shame,

You cannot lie little one, Saphira walked up to him, carefully nudging him gently on the back with her nose This is about what happened with Murtagh, is it not?

Eragon hung his head, there was nothing he could hide from Saphira for very long.

A wave of pleasure swept over Eragon as he felt Murtagh lay down beside him.

"Body heat." Was all Murtagh could give as an explanation for his closeness. Eragon could not fathom the night's cold, not while the blood rushing through his veins burned. Murtagh's back laid flat against his, layers of cloth separating the two of them.

Eragon was thankful Murtagh could not see him, he was sure he should be blushing, but he doubted there was any blood left to fill his cheeks since it all seemed to pulse straight to his loins.

No, I cannot harbor these thoughts. He meant the words for himself, but they screamed too desperately in his mind that his Saphira heard them scream in her own mind.

Thoughts of Murtagh? She could see Eragon's excitement from where she laid, although she could have been blind and still known. His readiness was felt by her as well, although luckily not so apparent in dragons as in their riders.

Eragon, Saphira spoke lovingly, yet wet firm like a mother, Speak to him, let him know of your feelings.

Never. Eragon sighed, I am not right Saphira, something is wrong with me. I am a man. I cannot have these... Feelings. It would only cause strife if I tell him.

Perhaps you are not alone in your feelings.

I cannot even dishonor him to dream of such, goodnight Saphira.

Good Night.

Eragon Laid awake, sleep alluding him as thoughts of Murtagh refused to surrender.

He heard the man sleeping beside him pass into his own slumber, although he noted how long it took before he heard his breath slow and come to a peaceful rhythm.

Finally giving up with his battle, Eragon rose, to wander the campsite. He moved as stealthily as he could, not wanting to disturb either of his companions.

The moon light could not beautiful the world more, He thought as his eyes scanned over the now silver trees. The fire had long since spent, turning into nothing more than a black singe upon the earth. When he turned back to look into the campsite, he was sure his heart melted.

Murtagh's usually pale skin shimmered silver, the same color that highlighted the shine of his coal hair. For the first time since meeting him, Eragon found him in peace. His face no longer quenched in sorrow and hate, or no emotion at all. Eragon legs felt weak when the corner of Murtagh's lips curled up in a smile.

He could no longer control himself.

Creeping up to Murtagh he laid down beside him, face to face, their bodies so close to touching.

A small twig snapped as Eragon shifted his weight, causing Murtagh to jerk and his eyes to fly open.

"It's just me." Eragon whispered harshly. He watched Murtagh's body tense further, his face returning to the unread-able.

"What are you doing Dragon Rider?" Eragon could not answer him, he could not think of any words he could allow to pass from his lips. "The sun is about to join us, we should get moving." Murtagh rose from the ground, busying himself by packing up camp.

Eragon laid on the ground cursing himself for his behavior. As he watched Murtagh Saphira's words echoed in his head.

"Murtagh.. Wait." He caught him as he was packing away their wool blankets. Without another word Eragon crushed his lips against Murtagh's, kissing with every fiber of desperation and need that resided in his body.

"We should not waste this traveling time." Murtagh spoke no more, but mounted Tornac and waited to leave.

Eragon stroked the fire idly, watching the flames consume the dead branches. How cynical it is that such mighty trees are so easily consumed by fire. How man is consumed by such fire.

"There is a stream just this way in the woods." Murtagh's voice hit his ears. Turning he found Murtagh approaching, his hair wet and plastered to his forehead. "Perfect depth for bathing. I will tend to the fire for you."

"Thank you."

The water was cool as he waded in, dancing across his bare skin. As all of his clothes laid in a pile on the bank.

Perhaps it will cool my thoughts He wondered, completely submerging his body.

Murtagh watched in agony as Eragon bathed before him. Cloaked by the limbs of a willow tree, he attempted to ignore what his mind was screaming and what his loins were pulsing.

He is just a boy. He told himself, unable to break his gaze. He did not know what he was doing when his kissed me, he couldn't have.

You think too loudly. A woman's voice filled his head. He looked around for the source, until coming to the realization it belonged to Saphira.

You can hear me?

I am connected to Eragon.

Fear gripped him.

Do not worry, he cannot hear you as I can, nor can he hear this conversation. He feels so strongly for you, you are part of him.

Murtagh's heart fluttered, he was sure Eragon could hear it.

He does?

Yes. He took a great risk showing you. His heart is broken from your rejection.

He hung his head, the last thing he wanted was to see the rider in pain, especially pain that he was the cause of.

Thank you.

Before doubt could register in his mind, he found himself striding into the water, clothes and all, toward Eragon.

"Murtagh wha-" Eragon's confusion was cut off as he pulled him against him, hungrily attacking his lips.

"I love you Dragon Rider." He gasped out harshly when they finally pulled away, desperate for breath,

"I love you too."

This cannot be real. Both thought, hearing an echo in their minds that sounded so very much like the other's voice.

Saphira laid awake listening to the ecstasy of their lovemaking, feeling each pleasure of wave that overcame the pair.

How lucky they are, to have found someone to share themselves with She thought with a hint of melancholy, even being as conventional as this, they have found a mate or sorts.

She looked over in the direction where they still found themselves, lost in each other to remember their third companion.

How lucky they truly are.