A 'Diplomatic Journey'
It has been almost five years since the end of the War… the fall of King Galbatorix. Five years since Eragon and Saphira left Alagaesia for lands unknown…
To some, the Rider and his Dragon have already become more legend than fact. Than there were those for whom not a day would go by when they do not think about what was, and what might have been – had circumstances not required Eragon and Saphira to make their life- altering journey…
Chief among these people, were the villagers of Carvahall: The village nearest to the farm where Eragon had been raised…
The 'original' Carvahall was gone, of course… Destroyed by the soldiers of Galbatorix's Empire. The people who'd lived there had rebuilt, of course – Near- by, though not where they had lived before: The remains of their old homes had been left as they were, as both a tribute and a memorial to the series of events that had reshaped not only their lives, but the whole of the land in which they lived.
Strong though their connection to Eragon and Saphira was, there were others who felt their absence even more strongly… – Despite the fact that they were the ones most often in contact with them. They – of course, were Arya Drotning – the Queen of the Elves, and her dragon – Firnen…
Reminiscences…
Arya roused herself from her waking- dreams at the same time as she had every morning – ever since she'd assumed her mother's role as Queen of her people.
Her life had undergone so much change in what – by the elves' reckoning, was an almost- unimaginably short amount of time: Five years ago, she was fighting alongside the members of the Varden – acting as her mother's ambassador. Now she was Queen… and a Dragon Rider. And – since the two eggs that Eragon had entrusted to her had hatched, a teacher…
As always, these thoughts swirled through her mind – though not as prominent as they sometimes were: She'd had 'the dream', again…
'The Dream' / Flashback…
The days leading up to Eragon and Saphira's departure had passed far too quickly for Arya's liking… Now the day had arrived – The time had come: There were no excuses that would permit them to delay any longer...
Reluctantly, she'd called to Firnen – asking him to come to the ship, to retrieve her… He'd come, and plucked her up off the deck, and carried her back towards the shore – where Roran Strong-hammer; Eragon's cousin – was waiting…
Firnen had landed near- by, and Arya had dismounted. The three of them stood there, in silence, as the elven- ship vanished around a curve in the river…
Finally, Roran turned to her, "He loves you, you know…" Arya had merely nodded: She knew – and she had known for some time, now…
Than Roran had continued, "I could tell – Pretty much from the first time I saw the two if you in the same place… The topic came up after Eragon, Saphira and I had made camp – the evening before we rescued Katrina from Helgrind." He sighed, "I'll admit: I gave him a bit of a hard time about it… – Until he explained his reasoning…"
That had surprised her, "… His reasoning?" – The words were out before she could stop them, which was unlike her…
Roran nodded, "I got the impression that he hadn't really been able to put it all into words before then, and that the topic was… Well," he shrugged – and continued, "If Eragon was staying I wouldn't meddle, but… I know you can examine the memories of others. I couldn't recall all of the details myself, but…"
Roran's offer to share the memory had surprised her, but Arya had accepted – feeling a strong need to understand…
Roran had opened his mind, and a moment later, Arya found herself standing – unseen, next to a campfire. Sitting on logs – on opposite sides of the fire, sat Eragon and Roran…
The first part of their conversation meant little to her, but before long…
When Roran finally brought up the 'relevant topic', Eragon had tried to dodge the question – though Arya could see the signs of a deep- rooted sadness, in Eragon's expression…
Finally, Eragon decided that there was little point in continuing his attempts to deflect the question, "… Contrary to what you, Arya, and everyone else seem to believe, I am aware that other eligible women exist in Alagaesia and that people have been known to fall in love more than once. No doubt if I spent my days in the company of ladies from King Orrin's court, I might indeed decide that I fancy one. However, my path is not so easy as that. Regardless of whether I can shift my affections to another – and the heart, as you observed, is a notoriously fickle beast – the question remains: Should I?"
RORAN: "Your tongue has grown as twisted as the roots of a fir- tree: Speak not in riddles."
ERAGON: " Very well: What human woman could begin to understand who and what I am, or the extent of my powers? Who could share in my life? Few enough, and all of them magicians. And of that select group, or even of woman in general, how many are immortal?'
RORAN: "(Laughter) You might as well ask for the sun in your pocket or –" Roran fell silent for several heartbeats, than said, "You cannot be."
ERAGON: "I am." – For a moment, the conversation turned to the limits of Eragon's immortality, than… "If I do (avoid 'those dangers'), then yes. Saphira and I will… endure."
RORAN: "It seems both a blessing and a curse."
ERAGON: "Aye. I cannot in good conscience marry a woman who will age and die while I remain untouched by time; such an experience would be equally cruel for both of us. On top of that, I find the thought of taking one wife after another throughout the long centuries rather depressing."
RORAN: "Can you make someone immortal with magic?"
As Eragon answered Roran's question, Arya had felt a rush of understanding: Immortality, and his transformation, had made Eragon the most 'elf-like' of humans… And, arguably, spending most of her life among humans could make her the most 'human-like' of elves. –– Eragon might have, initially, zeroed- in on her because of her beauty, but – over time, he'd become interested in her because he saw her as the only person who could truly understand who and what he was: part-Human, part-Elf, all Dragon Rider…
Arya's mind returned to the conversation, once she realized that Eragon had started to answer Roran's next question…
ERAGON: "… When I lived in Ellesmera, it was easy for me to accept how the dragons had changed my appearance. After all, they gave me many gifts besides. Also, the elves were friendlier to me after the Agaiti Blodhren. It was only after I rejoined the Varden that I realized how different I've become… It bothers me too. I'm no longer just human, and I'm not quite an elf. I'm something else in- between…"
Their conversation continued, but Roran indicated that that was all that he intended to share with here. Troubled, Arya had withdrawn from his mind and – once again, they stood on the shores of the lake…
A few minutes later, Arya and Roran climbed back onto Firnen's back, and the green- dragon had risen into the sky…
Arya could tell that Roran wasn't angry – nor had he shared the memory to make her feel guilty… But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she herself had been coming to the same realization that Eragon had reached – albeit more slowly...
Only now that Eragon was gone, was she beginning to realize what he had truly been to her… But what could she do about it?
She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts, that it was several minutes before her eyes found the scroll that lay on her breakfast- tray – which had been set just inside the entrance to her apartments in Tildari Hall… What truly excited her, however, was the band of silver that bound the scroll of paper into a tube: It was inset with what appeared to be a small blue gemstone – though she knew that it was, in fact, a small scale from a sapphire- blue dragon: It looked just like all of the other letters that Eragon had sent, over the past few years…
The Invitation…
Arya eagerly slipped the silver band off of the scroll, unrolled it, and began to read…
"Arya,
Our new Stronghold is complete, and we are ready to receive our first students. The island we have chosen is proving itself to be even more than we had initially hoped. – As I described in an earlier letter, it is nearly half- again the size of Vroengard – though fortunately lacking the infestation of 'burrow- grubs'. (– Honestly, I can't complain.)
Also – When events allow, Saphira and I would like to invite you both to visit to our new stronghold; Both to see it for yourself, and to help us choose a name for it – As one of the first Rider and Dragon pairs of the New Order, it is only right that you be part of the decision. (I could try to describe the island to you, but nothing I could say in a letter would do it justice.) - Eragon
Arya's spirits immediately began too lift: Her current students – an Urgal, and a young human- boy – were both very near the point at which they and their dragons would be ready to make the journey! – They could leave by the end of this week! – Possibly even sooner!
Arya hurriedly scribbled a polite reply, recited the spell that would send her note directly to Eragon – without actually crossing the intervening distance… Than she reached across her bond with Firnen – to tell him the good news…
From what must have been close to two miles away, Firnen's euphoric bugle scared several flocks of birds out of their trees. – As she watched from her window, Arya had to smile, and she thought to herself, 'It will be good to see Eragon, again!'
To be continued…
PS: This is my first 'M- Rated' story, so let me know what you think - as I add to it.