"ELDEST: IN A STARRY GLADE: Partial Rewrite of Original Chapter"
This story contains a partial rewrite of a chapter in the Eldest book. Christopher Paolini's words are clearly marked and in quotations so as to set them off from mine.
I do not own any works of Christopher Paolini. It is a joy to write fan fiction based on his works.
From Eldest by Christopher Paolini—
"His aimless path led past the Menoa tree, where he paused to watch Saphira among the festivities, though he did not reveal himself to those in the glade.
Where go you, little one? she asked.
He saw Arya rise from her mother's side, make her way through the gathered elves, and then, like a forest sprite, glide underneath the trees beyond. I walk between the candle and the dark, he replied, and followed Arya.
Eragon tracked Arya by her delicate scent of crushed pine needles, by the feathery touch of her foot upon the ground, and by the disturbance of her wake in the air. He found her standing alone on the edge of a clearing, poised like a wild creature as she watched the constellations turn in the sky above.
As Eragon emerged in the open, Arya looked at him, and he felt as if she saw him for the first time. Her eyes widened, and she whispered, "Is that you, Eragon?"
"Aye."
"What have they done to you?'
"I know not."
He went to her, and together they wandered the dense woods, which echoed with fragments of music and voices from the festivities. Changed as he was, Eragon was acutely conscious of Arya's presence, of the whisper of clothes over her skin, of the soft, pale exposure of her neck, and of her eyelashes, which were coated with a layer of oil that made them glisten and curl like black petals wet with rain.
They stopped on the narrow bank of a stream so clear, it was invisible in the faint light. The only thing that betrayed its presence was the throaty gurgle of water pouring over the rocks. Around them, thick pines formed a cave with their branches, hiding Eragon and Arya from the world and muffling the cool, still air. The hollow seemed ageless, as if it were removed from the world and protected by some magic against the weathering of time.
In that secret place, Eragon felt suddenly close to Arya, and all his passion for her sprang to the fore of his mind. He was so intoxicated with the strength and vitality coursing through his veins— as well as the untamed magic that filled the forest—"
[rewrite begins
"Be careful, little one," Saphira whispered from far away, "Do not give in to what you feel now, for you will regret it later."
"I don't care what might come—" Eragon started to protest.
"Yes, you will always regret it if you do," Saphira said vehemently, "Remember what Oromis told you! And remember how young you still are."
Eragon knelt quietly down by the edge of the stream, though he could see it not. Arya looked his way. He fought within himself, desperately longing to tell her again how much he loved her, but Saphira's counsel rang in his head. "You are my conscience, like I was with you and Glaedr," Eragon said to Saphira.
"Exactly, only you should listen, I did not, and look what happened," she answered back. He knelt there and considered what she said. He determined she was right, now was not the time to renew his longing for Arya, for surely he would be rejected. Arya was a little tense, for she did not know how the mental changes might affect Eragon as the physical changes so obviously had.
"I have become what I was meant to be," Eragon told Arya, looking at where the stream was, even though he could not see it because the light was too dim.
Arya for a moment looked surprised, then nodded. She relaxed a bit. "'Tis true you have grown, and changed on the outside, but in your heart you have not yet become all you were meant to be." Eragon did not look up at her. He did not like what she had just said. Sensing his disapproval, Arya softly added, "It will take a lifetime, Eragon, to become everything you are meant to be. Even I, with a hundred years gone by have not yet become all that I am meant to be. On the outside, yes, on the inside, no."
Her words comforted him, even though he once again felt the sting of his youth. "I have been thinking of the tale you told me about Linnea and the origins of the Menoa Tree," he said.
"And your conclusions?" Arya asked.
"I think that something which was evil turned out to be a blessing for the forest and the elves alike."
"How so?"
"Consider the Agaeti Blodhren. All the elves gather under the Menoa Tree to celebrate the combining of elves and dragons, and at all other times, the Menoa tree watches over the rest of the forest. Linnea had to take responsibility for what was wrong and in making it right she became much more of a blessing than she ever could have thought possible. Can you imagine the forest without the Menoa tree?"
Arya stood quietly for a moment. "No, I cannot," she finally said. Eragon kept looking at the water, trying desperately to control every aspect of his breathing, and his countenance, even though with the light being so faint, Arya probably couldn't notice that. Or maybe she could. Her presence, which had almost caused him to forsake all caution, was still almost overwhelming to him, especially with what he had now become.
He could still feel the presence coming from her, and it was no small thing, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Surely, she would feel differently now.
"Careful," Saphira whispered in his head. Eragon cursed internally. The training they had undergone had changed he and Saphira's relationship, making it even closer than it had ever been before. He was completely glad it had happened but sometimes, her presence was too much.
Arya stood silently, thinking. She had not expected Eragon to come up with something so true. It is true, she had to admit to herself. Eragon surprised her constantly these days. He was not the boy she had first met in Gil'ead, and he had thought of something she had never considered. Now, she must think of something which he had never thought of. She considered all things concerning Eragon for a moment, and finally she came upon the right choice to say.
"Perhaps what you intended as a blessing, which actually was a curse to that little girl will work out in much the same way," Arya said in her voice which almost had a melody running through it. Startled, Eragon turned and looked up at her. "You did not mean to speak such a curse, and yet you did. Nevertheless, you have taken responsibility and will lift the curse, but remember Saphira put the mark on her forehead. Saphira does not need any words, nor does she even know how to control magic because it runs through her veins and is at the center of her very being. Yet even though she does not know what she did, it was good, for she is good, as are you. So, perhaps Saphira's blessing will work in unexpected ways and good may come out of it yet."
Eragon shuddered at the thought if what exactly his curse. Arya put her hand on his shoulder. "Eragon, trust in yourself. And trust even more in Saphira. You have promised to break the spell as soon as you get back to the Varden. That is a most worthy goal, and one I have no doubt you will carry out." She let her arm drop away from his shoulder.
He stood, and Arya stood beside him not saying anything. He sensed that she had relaxed, and so he relaxed, although he still felt the passion for her coursing through his veins, but he would not act on it now. Time passed, neither one said a word.
Finally, Arya spoke, "I am leaving for the Varden as soon as night turns into day and the Agaeti Blodhren comes to an end, so I must say farewell. Eragon Shadeslayer, Artgetlam, Vinr Alfakyn, Se mor'ranr ono finna" (Eragon Shadeslyer, Silver Hand, Elf Friend. May you find peace), Arya paused, "I do not know what else to give you."
"Yawe?" Eragon asked (a bond of trust).
Arya nodded her head. "Wiol ono," she answered him. (For you.)
"Arya Svit-kona, Atra esterni ono thelduin." (May good fortune rule over you.)
"Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr." (Peace live in your heart.)
"Un du evarinya ono varda." (And the stars watch over you.)
Ayra turned and walked away, her feet barely making a noise in the night. Saphira came then, gliding over the trees, and settling down next to him, where Arya had been moments before. Eragon sighed.
Peturbed, Eragon stood there for a moment. Maybe one day Arya would see him as something more than a good friend, and he would look forward to it when she did. After all, Arya's reaction when he did the fairth surprised him because she was scared. He hoped that meant there was something more to her feelings for him. He thought back of the raven, who had shrilled out the word, "Wyrda" whenever he came around him and Arya. "Wyrda" meant "fate", and that was the same thing he had said right before the dragon changed him physically.
Then it suddenly dawned on him. Faolin must have been her mate at some point during the past. He and another male elf were killed when Dirza ambushed them and captured her. That was who the other fairth was of, and that is what Lifaen had meant when he talked about sharing her loss, but being unable to reveal it to him, because it concerned Arya and her alone.Add layers and layers on circles and circles, he thought.
"Perhaps that is another reason she acts as she does," Saphira interjected
"Perhaps,"Eragon agreedIt would take time, then, and first he had to defeat Galbatorix. He would have to focus on that and let his feelings for Arya, and her feelings for him, sort them selves out later.
"Well done, little one," Saphira said.
"Thank you," Eragon responded.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
FINITO
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