Eragon sat at the fire watching the flames slowly lick and tease the pot that was cooking the meat. Through the heat of the flames he could see the elf, laying in the dirt as comfortable as the could make her. Her raven black hair was strew like a halo around her head, her rosy lips were pursed slightly as if she were thinking... or about to give a kiss. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the fire light, showing none of the bruises that she had when they had rescued her.
Eragon watched her and desired to give her some of his meat.
She must be hungry for something by now. She hadn't eaten a thing the entire time she had been with them. She hadn't moved or twitched or anything. This stillness wrought a horrible desire in him. A desire to touch her. To hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. To give her meat, little by little. Just tiny bites at first because he didn't think he could handle his meat all at once. Not after not eating for so long.
Maybe he would give her soup at first. That would whet her appetite for meat.
Then he could give her meat. He could show her how manly he was in being able to give her meat.
She would be so grateful to him for rescuing her that she would gladly partake in his meat.
It would be wonderful, being out under the stars, sharing the meat, getting to know each other intimately.
He wanted to watch her enjoy his meat. He wanted so see her expression as she took what he gave her. The gratitude for his meat. The expression of joy as she received it.
Hungrily he glanced at the pot, watching the flames, wanting his meat. Wanting to be able to give her his meat.
Murtagh stepped into view at that moment, between the elf and Eragon. His eyes were alight with the flames that cooked their meat.
"It's almost done," he said softly.
"Good," replied Eragon, wrenching his eyes from the elf, "Because I really need some."
|Meat three ~ Fan Fiction ~ Orik's Bow|