#brom is cackling off to the side btw

[modern-inheritance]

For a Future Story 2

“Alright, first things first. Can you dance?”

Eragon frowned. He had attended the dances in Carvahall, though he doubted their traditional harvest dance would be on the list of accepted moves at a black tie fundraiser. He could vaguely remember dancing with some elves at the Blood Oath Celebration and getting no complaints, but the entire event was a whirlwind and not exactly reliable. “I mean…kinda. Yeah.”

Arya raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I know enough.” His voice held an edge of affronted protest. Saphira’s low growl of laughter didn’t help. “Hey! You can’t dance at all!”

The dragon sniffed and shuffled her wings, that parted smirk revealing the tips of ivory teeth. I don’t have to dance. I fly, and there’s nothing more elegant than that.

“Katrina?” Eragon snapped his attention back to his bodyguard. Katrina looked up from where she was pinning a rather antsy looking Roran’s pants in preparation of later alterations. “Can Eragon dance?”

The auburn haired woman made a face that was quite obviously an attempt to hide her contained laughter. “Well…it’s been a while since the last harvest festival, but…” A giggle escaped her as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Eragon. No, no he cannot. I don’t think my left foot ever recovered from the time I danced with him during the summer solstice six years ago.”

“As coordinated as a newborn fawn with three legs.” Roran confirmed. He, at least, did not attempt to hide his broad smile.

Eragon felt his ears going dark red. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad….” Arya sighed. The young Rider was alarmed when she began walking away, shaking her head with lips pressed tight together. “Hey, wait, I promise it’s not that bad, I’m not going to embarrass anyone!”

“No, you’re not.” The begrudging tone to the elf’s voice carried even with her back to him. She unbuckled her blade harness and, with a short bark of common Elvish, tossed her sword to Glenwing. “Come on.”

Confused, Eragon trotted after her until they reached the near bare patch of earth the Rider used for his morning Dance of Snake and Crane and the occasional sparring session with Roran and Brom. Arya was already waiting for him, tucking the loosened strap of her pistol holster back under the clip where she had adjusted it to sit further down her thigh.

"Think of this less like dancing and more like..." Without warning Arya, quite casually, took Eragon's hands in her own. He froze when she twined her fingers with his and settled his other hand on her hip. "Low contact sparring."

"What, uh..." Eragon felt as though he had swallowed his tongue. Heat crept up his face. They had been close like this before but it suddenly felt...different. "What? Sorry, what's...what's happening?"

Arya rolled her eyes and mirrored his position. The exasperation held a hint of amused fondness that Eragon nearly missed. "I'm going to teach you to dance, dumbass."