Chapter One- The Stone and New Beginnings
There were many thoughts fleeting through the seventeen year old girls head at the moment as the car, which was older than her, probably, sputtered its last breaths with an ungraceful grunt and the headlights slowly flickered out while some shitty mainstream music, which had been playing on the radio and was the only thing keeping her awake, gave a cringe-worthy screech and the green numbers which displayed the time disappeared. 9:48. That's what time it was.
However, the most recurring thought was, undoubtedly, fuck me.
She slammed her fists on the wheel, as though some magical force would make the damned car work again and get her home on time to her already infuriated mother whom had called a few minutes ago, demanding her whereabouts.
Hypocrite.
The angry teen would've picked up her phone, called someone (preferably not her mother, just to infuriate her more. Besides, she'd probably only yell at (Y/N) more if she did. However, her phone was dead and done for the day. She wished she was done for the day, too.
This was stupid. Everything stupid!
But now, she realized she was very alone, at least a few miles out of town with a dead, broken car and no phone and only one other person knew she was out and was very angry with her.
(Y/N) had gotten into a recent argument with her mother, again- it was not uncommon. Due to the fact that they were never alike in the first place, and that her father left when she was young, and it was only the two of them added to the spice of teenage rebellion was a clear equation for clashes that could erupt a fire in the girl that she refused to let out. So she drove away.
Generally, she would drive back, hear her mother's quips and threats and bitter tone to the point she marched into her room and finally succumbed under the covers. Then in the morning, (Y/N)'s mother would be gone. And she would be alone for most of the day. Again. Not alone- she went to school, got good grades.
But lately her life had seemed rather gray. Gray was a pretty color. However, the fog which rolled threateningly out into the road that shone bits of thicker fog in the moonlight were anything but pretty to her.
And she felt a shiver down her spine and a forlorn sense of dread.
She was about to lock her doors, call it a night and wait for maybe someone to come by during the day-thank god it was a weekend. But just as she was pressing the button, a freakish THUMP on the car ceiling startled her to the point she nearly peed and she let out a gasp. For a second, she merely sat there, eyes wide and breaths coming in short takes as her hands shook and she dared not move a muscle.
But then, her curiosity got the better of her. With a gulp, she brushed her hair out of her eyes. Looking for a potential weapon, she found nothing but a broom which wiped the snow off of her window. Great.
She got out of the car, stepping daintily into the fog, and assessed her car. There was nothing there but a dent and was that- glitter?
"Did I just get fucking attacked by a fairy princess?" She muttered.
She walked to the other side, but stopped in her tracks as she noticed a large, beautifully smoothed stone. It was gray, with darker and silvery veins throughout it.
It was extremely out of place, and her brows furrowed.
How on earth?
Something wasn't right. This didn't belong here. Yet, some odd tugging in her body moved her feet forward, and her hand reached out, shaking. For a fleeting second, she swore it moved, but her eyes trained on the stone.
Kneeling down to get a better look, but still not touching it, she could see that her previous conclusion was correct- there was not a single scratch on it.
Licking her lips from the cool air, she hesitated before pressing her palm on the coolness of it. It almost seemed to thrum with energy, but nothing much happened.
"It's just a rock, it's just a ro-"
And suddenly a light so bright that it blinded her took over the girls vision and sent her gasping for breath, making her skin tingle and she suddenly felt like she wasn't on the ground anymore as her stomach churned. Yet, she kept hold of the stone as a mother would her child, and tucked it under the leather jacket as though to protect it.
And then it all went black.
ERAGONS POV
Eragon was bewildered. In two days apart, two phenomenon's had happened. And this one definitely beat the first.
Just the day before yesterday, the farm boy had discovered a blue stone while hunting in the Spine. Now, a girl who looked to be about his age and in very odd clothing was laying out across the mossy wood and beside her she held a similar stone.
This was becoming normal.
He was tempted to go, run back to the farm and alert his uncle. But then, it was nearly a half a day's trip back to the farm- who knew if she would still be here.
Eragon set down the bow and quietly crept towards the girl. She looked innocent enough. What harm could she do? But a nagging thought of warning was still on the back of his mind. However, his curiosity always got the better of him.
He leaned over her. His brows quirked at her odd clothing; for one, she wore pants. Second, these pants were an odd, dark blue, rough looking material that he'd never seen before.
But yes, the weirdest thing of all was that this girl appeared in a flash of light much like the stone did.
He chuckled; he couldn't try and trade her off for meat.
Eragon attentively poked at her cheek; she stayed unmoving. A frightening thought occurred to him- what if she was dead? But then her hands moved to her forehead as though she had a headache and she muttered a stream of curses from her mouth that made him blush.
When her eyes opened, he could tell that she was fully, completely awake- and she punched him in the face.
"Who are you?!"
"Ow!"
"Where am I? Am I dead? Did I get hit by a car- What are you wearing?"
Now, he held his bruised nose that would surely be purple by tomorrow, and closed his eyes. The girl had gotten up and was clenching the stone in a frightened and protective manner.
"Why did you punch me?"
"I asked questions first!" She sputtered, backed away, and tripped over a log. She landed ungracefully on her rump and hastened to get up again.
He put his hands out up, trying to show he meant no harm, but she wasn't convinced. "I'm Eragon- I'm a farm boy. You're in the spine, or Carvahall. You- you just…"
"The spine? Carvahall?" You muttered. "What-"
"You just appeared in a flash of light and you were knocked out- and I was trying to help you." He explained fervently, squeezing his nose and emitting a squeak from himself.
YOUR POV
You looked around in haste, not taking into account the frustrated boy in front of you. This wasn't familiar. Trees didn't grow this tall from where you were.
Breathing in and out, you tried to assess your situation- what happened before you saw the light.
You touched the stone, which you were still holding.
And you realized you still held it.
You dropped the stone in fright, as though it were a poisonous snake and for a moment regretted it, but then your situation donned on you.
This was like something out of a fairy tale. And the rapid beat of your heart and the bite of the cool air across your pale nose and cheeks, and the way you felt the wind on your face that whipped around your long hair…
But most of all the feeling of being lost. That is what assured you that you were most definitely awake, and alive.
You pinched yourself, squeezing your eyelids shut and then opened them again. The same boy was in front of you, looking at you with curiosity and pity, and you took in his features.
He was young, around your age. The sun had kissed his skin and given it a nice olive color, no doubt... he mentioned he was a farm boy. Dark brown curls, brown eyes, thick brows, but a boyish face that one could predict would mature. His nose was large, but added more character, and you could make out some freckles across his nose and cheeks. His nose was red and would probably be bruised in the morning, and you briefly felt a sense of guilt.
His eyes settled on you again.
"Are... are you... are you okay?"
Your eyes finally met his brown ones. "I am many things. And right now, okay is not one of them."
He bit his lip. "I'm Eragon."
"You told me." Now, you sat on a log, clenching the moss under your hands. The water they held seeped onto your hands like chilling ice but did not help the tears that threatened to spill over your eyes. Your heart was beating, and you felt like you were going to have a panic attack.
He stepped towards you. "What's your name?"
"My name is (Y/N.)" You took another deep breath. "H-How did I get here? What… what do you call this place?"
He seemed to know what you meant. "AGA. And I don't know… It could be magic. I know it sounds silly, but… a few days ago a similar thing happened."
You looked at him. "Not a person. A stone. Like the one you had. It was blue."
Your heart beat timidly. Looking around, you spotted the gray stone a few feet away, and stiffly stood to pick it up and tuck it under your jacket.
A few more moments of silence. Now, you felt the same feeling you did what seemed like days ago. You were alone. You were scared. You didn't know where to go.
But a hand on your shoulder proved your first statement false. "My uncle and cousin… we all live on a farm about ten miles walk from here. I don't know where you came from… but if you have nowhere else to go, you could stay with us." He blushed to his ears. If you weren't currently in a midlife crisis, you would've found it endearing. "If you want."
You forced a smile. "I don't have anywhere else to go, do I?" You looked down at your shoes. You might have odd attire compared to Eragon, but you were lucky it wasn't too odd- a brown leather jacket, black tank top, blue jeans, and tall leather boots.
Other than that, you had nothing else.
"Where are you from?"
You didn't know if you should respond your hometown, or your state, or the USA, or Earth. Judging from his look, though, you said the last one.
"Eragon." You spoke as he turned he turned to get his bow, which you could now see was dropped amongst the brush.
"I won't tell them about where you came from. Or how you got here." He smiled, kindly, and for a brief moment, you thought everything was okay.
"Thank you." You paused, taking in a breath. This cursed stone had brought you here, and yet, you kept it close to your heart as though one would try and seize away precious gold. The stone was smooth, and cool, and almost seemed to sharpen your senses. "I'm sorry for punching you in the face."
"It's alright, (Y/N)." You could tell that your name was foreign on his lips. You supposed names here would be odd or out of the ordinary here to you, as well.
(TIME SKIP)
You chatted briefly throughout the journey to his farm, and yet you were both still on guard and snuck odd, curious, and brief glances at one another.
You would ask him about the blue stone later. It seemed he was very perplexed on the subject, as well.
"Is it much farther?"
He shot you back a glance. "Yes."
You grumbled, and nearly tripped on a stone, which made the boy almost chuckle. But you were both still on edge a bit, and the brief trusting you'd had a moment ago was gone- what if this was a trap? What if he was a serial killer? What if he collected dead bodies? Who knew? Definitely not you, that's for sure.
By the time you'd gotten back, it was nearly sundown, but when you came forth out of the line of trees and saw the quaint, but endearing sight in the distance you felt relief.
"It's not much." Said Eragon. "But it's home." As you both walked across the fields, you asked him what they farmed, and promised you'd help as much as you could.
Eragon paused and turned around. Give me your stone- your jacket doesn't do much good in hiding it.
You briefly hesitated, but gave it to him.
"So the story is… I woke up in a daze. I didn't know who I was or why I was there or even where I was, I'm a confused damsel in distress, and a knight in shining arm has rescued me." You quipped sarcastically, and grinned at Eragon's blush.
"Close enough."
"… Thank you again."
You saw him pause and turn to look at you for a moment, swiping his eyes over your face, taking in your features.
He didn't need to say anything.
His helping you seemed like a puzzle piece that fit perfectly in with your own. But he smiled, and opened the door and you took a deep breath.
Months past. The air grew colder and bitterer, but you eventually settled into to this life and routine. Your relationships with Garrow and Roran and most importantly, Eragon, were anything but cold.
Uncle Garrow had gladly taken you in, and treated you with the utmost kindness, as did Roran. Of course, Roran teased Eragon about you, but you brushed it off. Eragon, however, would always blush and push Roran, and it usually ended in a playful fight between the brothers.
You knew that it wasn't easy for Garrow, however, to take someone else in. So you repayed your debt as best you could. You worked all day in the fields along with Eragon, Roran, and Garrow, helped clean the house as best you could, and when Eragon or Roran or both went into town, you would acquaint yourself with the other villagers and do little jobs they asked of you for them.
You had even befriended some, however, just as you befriended them you also grew a dislike for, ahem, some. Some as in Sloan. The butcher made your skin crawl and the rash way he spoke to Eragon made you want to flip over his precious work area in anger. You also discovered that Roran had a thing with his daughter, Katrina, which you always teased him about now.
Your favorite among them, however, was Brom. He was odd at first, for his interest in you and his questions and the way his steady black eyes trained onto you as if they knew your every secret unnerved you. It still unnerved you. However, his stories and wisdom and wit alike to your own eventually made you trust him, and every time you came into town you'd knock on his door to pay him a visit along with Eragon.
And after months of living with Eragon, you almost knew everything about each other. He was, undoubtedly, your best friend. You understood him. He only had one parental figure in his life, he was young and determined to prove himself and curious.
However, most of all, he was kind and you could crack jokes both inside ones and idiotic ones all day long.
The fateful day came, however, on a cold winter night, when you and Eragon were asleep (there were now two mattresses in his room,) that the blue stone moved.
You swore it wasn't real, so you turned over and tried to stop shivering from the cold, wrapping yourself in the blankets more. It happened again, and you shot up, waking a grumpy Eragon.
"Eragon."
"shdmccjf."
"Eragon."
"gotobed."
"Eragon !" You whispered harshly and grabbed the pillow, throwing it towards his head of brown curls. He grumbled angrily and lazily opened his eyes, his mouth twisted in disdain at being woke.
"What."
"The blue stone. It moved."
"What?"
"Look! Listen." You whispered quietly. Eragon got up and sat beside you on your mattress, following your gaze to the blue stone, which sat beside the gray one, on the shelf.
"You're crazy. Go back to bed." He tried to gently shove you back onto the bed, but you grabbed his hand and made him train his gaze onto the shelf again.
"Look."
He sighed, and looked.
After a few moments, nothing happened, but then, the egg rolled once more. Violently this time to the point where it dropped to the floor with a loud thud, and you and Eragon jumped in fright.
"What in God's name…" He muttered. But then, he stopped and knelt down. You were tempted to go and wake Garrow and Roran, but the sight in front of you demanded your full attention and made your breath stop in wonder.
A crack.
Another.
Part of it the 'stone' started to peel upwards, as though it were a…
"It's an egg." Eragon whispered. You leaned forwards, watching in amazement.
Then, it paused.
"Eragon." You whispered. "Eggs take a while to hatch. You might as well get some sleep."
"There is a giant blue stone hatching and you are suggesting SLEEP?" He looked at you.
"Whatever is in there… will be here in the morning." You said. You knew that it would take a few hours at least, and the sky was still a dark black.
"What about the other one?" Eragon asked. You looked towards the gray stone in curiosity, with a sense of knowing.
"It'll probably be here tomorrow, too." You spoke in reassuring, hushed tones.
"I don't want to sleep." But even now, his eyes started drooping. He tried staying awake, defiantly, not taking his eyes off the stone, but you knew he would fall asleep eventually.
"We have a long day tomorrow." You tugged his wrist, forcing yourself to stop looking at the two stones. "And if you sleep on the cold floor like this, you'll catch cold."
Finally, after a few more useless arguments, he got into his blankets and fell asleep almost immediately.
Perhaps if you had enough energy, you would've been more excited. But the winter and the constant work had taken a tole on you; this lifestyle was different. You needed at least ten hours of sleep to function properly or you'd pass out throughout the day.
So your eyes shut, and you nestled yourself into the wool blankets and fell asleep.
Eragon was awake before you were.
You opened your eyes to the harsh morning sun that momentarily blinded you, making your lips twist in disdain.
"Wake up." Said Eragon.
"I am awake, asshole." You muttered. But then, you remembered the stones- no, the eggs.
You sat straight up, peeling off the covers and hissing when your bare feet touched the freezing floor. You tiptoed across the dark wooden planks, taking a seat on Eragon's mattress to eagerly follow his train of sight.
There, two dragons sat upon the shelves, much like graceful cats. Your eyes widened and marveled at them. However, you quickly focused your attention on the gray one.
It acknowledged you with intelligent and wise eyes, somehow much older than you would imagine for such a little thing. The eggs were nothing but small, cracked pieces of shells with the protective substances to keep the dragon's safe inside across the floor.
"(Y/N)…" Eragon said. Your eyes stayed on the dragon, but he kept talking. "Something happened when I touched him. The blue one." He gestured towards the small blue one, who almost seemed to know it was being talked about and stretched its neck gracefully. "The gray one…"
He didn't have to finish his sentence. Your small, pale hand reached out and carefully touched the rough scales of the silver beast, and the moment it did, you felt a pang of pure pain, energy, magic bolt thought your body much like a lightning strike would feel, but the pain was centered on your left hand, and you hissed and held it tight.
"Was that supposed to happen?" You hissed at Eragon, but his hand was already up. It sported a raw, fresh burn like wound that swirled on the thumb area of his palm. You bit your lip and examined your own; it was exactly the same.
"We should bandage them." Eragon muttered. However, as he got up, the blue dragon began wailing- a screeching noise which would surely wake up his uncle and cousin if it kept on.
"They're hungry." You said, and Eragon nodded, currently stroking the blue dragon and trying to calm it down.
"I'll find some food." Before he turned to leave, you stopped him.
"How common is- this. Here. In alagaesia?" You spoke in a hushed, nearly quivering tone. You certainly had not seen any dragons about during your stay here, and only heard of them from some of Brom's stories. However, you had established that there was at least one- with Galbatorix, the leader of the Empire.
He certainly didn't seem very nice.
"There hasn't been a dragon or dragon rider in hundreds of years. The last is Galbatorix." It was clear that Eragon had already thought about this a while before you woke up.
You stood as well. "I'll find us gloves."
Turning to face the two new born dragons, you bent down with a curious look and a smile on your face. "We'll be back, little ones."
The gray dragon was growling quietly now, obviously beginning to become as hungry as the blue, and you patted its head gently before turning away.
….
You and Eragon hadn't even dressed yet, and were still in your nightclothes, but both of you were too busy with the two mysterious creatures to even care.
You giggled as he held forward a piece of meat in each hand to the two, and they snatched it furiously, drawing some blood from his fingertips in the process.
"Ow."
"Quite hungry, aren't you?" You took the rest of the meat out of Eragon's hands and split it in half, this time raising the meat above their heads and dropping it into their mouths.
"So am I." Eragon muttered. "What should we do about the two? Garrow will notice if we take too much food, and we don't have a lot. We don't even know how fast they'll grow,"
"Yea." Neither of you could take your eyes off the beautiful creatures as they eyed the two of you curiously, as well. You carefully reached forward to the gray one, gently stroking its scaly, spiked head, and the thin wings. "They're beautiful." Finally, you drew your hand back. "Well, I'm not a dragon expert, but at some point they should be able to hunt on their own. Maybe when they're about the size of a dog, perhaps."
Eragon nodded. "We could take them to the woods, build a sort of den. Make sure it has shelter, hay. Until they're older we could bring them meat."
"Do you think they need milk?" You asked. However, the dragons were now quiet, and no longer screeching, so you assumed it wasn't necessary.
"I hope not."
"How will we get them food often enough? How will we even get them out there?" You muttered. "Without Garrow and Roran questioning."
It was clear that Eragon's momentary shock proved that he hadn't even thought of keeping this from his family. However, you were right.
"I could pretend to teach you hunting." He said. "Well, I could actually teach you how to hunt." His brown eyes trained out to the window, finally acknowledging that the two of you would have to get up soon.
You raised an eyebrow. "You know, Roran will never stop teasing us then. Everyone would think we're doing… other things."
At this, Eragon blushed heavily. Now, the two dragons slept contentedly side by side on his mattress. "They'll be more inclined to leave us alone then."
"We're supposed to go into town tomorrow." You said. "One or both of us could act sick- we could go out to the woods and fix up something then."
He nodded.
You were quiet for a few moments. The thought finally registered in your brain.
You had a dragon.
There were DRAGONS in FRONT of you.
DRAGONS.
And dragons were illegal. You were illegal. This is all illegal.
"How big do you think they get?" Eragon muttered.
"Big enough to ride." You bit your lip in thought. "How will they stay unnoticed?"
But you both knew the answer. They won't. You went on. "We should speak to Brom. Ask him to tell us about dragons or something- he has a lot of books. There could be helpful information there."
You looked at Eragon. He seemed hesitant now. You knew that somewhere, deep inside him, he had an adventurous heart, just as nearly all young people did. But he was a farm boy from a small town, and he was kind and attached.
A day would come when the two of you must leave to protect the beasts in front of you. And you knew that that day would probably be the most difficult day of his life. However, you wouldn't say anything of it for now. Instead, you took his hand, got up, and picked up your clothing. It surprisingly hadn't been worn too badly.
Eragon exited the room and you changed quickly. You knelt down towards the two, petting each of their heads, but stayed longer on the gray. It's silvery, knowing eyes opened to look at you and it rubbed its scaly head towards your fingers. You smiled, humming happily.
"We'll be gone most of the day, little one." You spoke. "You must be quiet- you cannot be heard. We'll feed you at the end of the day, as soon as we can."
It almost seemed to understand you, and laid back down as though your words had made it unsatisfied.
Garrow refused to believe you and Eragon were feeling unwell.
At the end of the day, after much arguing, it was settled that the both of you were to accompany them. "So I guess we'll just have to wake early one morning and take them to the woods." Eragon mused.
"Maybe it's for the best they stay inside for the first few days, anyway."
"Aye."
Garrow sent you and Eragon off after speaking to the merchant Merlock. You didn't particularly wish to visit the tavern, but Eragon insisted, and eventually you agreed.
After sitting down in the busy room, you both ordered ale- and it was not pleasant. Your face made a displeased expression the moment the substance touched your tongue.
"How could anyone drink this willingly?" You muttered. Eragon chuckled, but you could clearly see he didn't care much for the taste either.
When you were done, you went outside. Garrow had given you some coins. As the two of you browsed the shops, you were tempted to pick up some pretty pieces of jewelry or the delicious sweet looking cakes that made your mouth water.
"Eragon." You whispered. He looked at you. "We should purchase gloves of some sort. Or something… useful."
"Why would we need anything useful? We're not going anywhere." He said stubbornly, avoiding your somewhat annoyed gaze. He used his share of the coins to buy a sweet, tart like candy, and you took what was left and browsed the merchants' wares.
Finally, you came across a tent which was at the very end of the shops. The man was old, with a balding head, but had curious, crow like eyes.
"I don't believe en' of these would suit a lass."
You smiled, choosing to ignore him, as your eyes searched the beautiful weapons. You had no experience, so you couldn't tell if one was of quality, and one wasn't.
"Y'know anything about weapons?" You shrugged, lying.
"I know a bit."
"What ye looking for?" He stood up. You knew that you shouldn't trust merchants, but some were not as bad as others. His coal eyes studied you.
He didn't have too much ambition. A good sign. This man was old and his golden days of trading had clearly long passed as did his age.
"Something with a pointy end." You quipped.
With that, he laughed. "Aye, we all are."
You bit your lip, admiring the various daggers and knives, some nearly as long as a sword. You could ask Eragon to help make you a bow.
"I'd like something sturdy, strong. I'm not interested in a bejeweled handle or fancy lettering on the hilt. But something… different. Something I could look at and remember this place by."
The man paused again, and finally, you met his eyes. He seemed to come to an understanding and picked up a long dagger with a black hilt, decorated at the very top with a simple ruby looking stone.
"This here has gone through many years." He explained, tossing it, twirling it, making a stabbing motion (which you stepped back from.) "Still sharp." He slid his hand on the side of the hilt, hissing when it drew blood from his finger.
"Can I see?" You asked. He handed it to you, and you tried to figure out the most comfortable way to hold it. You finally settled on one, and it felt… nice. Like it was a part of your hand. "How much?"
"You're the first person who's looked at it in a while. I've been trying to sell it for years. It's yours for 5 coins."
Your eyes widened. You flicked the blade; it was definitely iron. Strong metal. "Are you serious? Thank you!"
You handed him the coins, and he gave you the hilt. "Take good care of it, milady, and it'll take good care of you." You smiled kindly. "Say, what happened to your hand?"
You paused. The hand which the dragon marked you was bandaged, as was Eragon's. You hadn't come up with a lie for it yet. "Went riding the other day, and my horse spooked. I was a fool and used my right hand too much and it skinned my palm." He nodded.
He didn't believe you, though, and you knew it. You must have not looked important enough for him to press on, though, so you turned and left.
"Thank you. Take care."
You were quite pleased with your purchase, and you still had fifteen coins- you could buy some cakes, or nice gloves, or even a cloak- hell, you could probably even find a piece of jewelry.
"A hair piece for the pretty lady!"
"Cherry pastries! Only a few left!"
You bit your lip. What would be most useful? While Eragon refused to look farther into the future, you weren't like that. You were never like that.
So you went to a shop that had a few brightly and dull colored cloaks hanging on the ceiling alike. You smiled; the sweet, rich perfume was the first thing you noticed. The woman behind the table was dark haired, dark skinned, and undoubtedly one of the most beautiful you'd ever seen- her hair was done elaborately with jewels braided into it, and you noticed an odd looking tattoo on her neck.
"Hello." You greeted. "I'm not looking for anything particularly fancy- I need something that will stay good and intact, something of good making. I don't care if it's a simple brown or black."
"Going somewhere?"
"Winter."
At that, the both of you chuckled.
"I'm afraid I've nothing of that making. These are all decorative cloaks- ones you'd wear to the next town over, but no more. I'm sorry."
"Oh. Thank you anyways."
By now, most of the shops were closing up.
But then you noticed a book. It was dark green, with gold lettering on the front with the words HISTORY AND PEOPLE OF ALAGAESIA. There was no author on the front, but the book was large, with decent drawings and a strong binding. "Hey, is this for sale?"
The woman looked up at you. "You can read?"
"Yes. I haven't read in a while." You flipped open the pages, assessing the beautifully written text on cream paper. It had pictures of… mythical creatures? Was that a dwarf?
"Ah, dwarves." Said the woman, looking at the picture. "No one's seen them for a long time."
"Dwarves?" You muttered. "How much is it?"
"I'll give it to you for ten." You quickly gave her the price, and she stopped you. "And I wouldn't be carrying it around for the Empire's soldiers to see…" Understanding her warning, you put it in your bag.
Now, you had five left. A cheery man gave you a pastry for five coins, for the rest were already going cold and no one was around much anymore. You smiled thankfully at him and bit into the sweet desert, savoring the taste and snorting uncomfortably when the powdered sugar reached your nostrils. You must have looked ridiculous.
"(Y/N)!" You turned, looking at Eragon. "Come! Broms telling one of his stories." He finally jogged up to you. "They're about dragons."
Your eyes widened with a giddy light, and you smiled at each other. On the way there, you showed him, when you were certain no one of importance was about, your purchases.
"You can read?" Eragon whispered.
"Well, yea. If you don't know how, I could teach you-"
"I know how to read!" His face blushed and he looked away. "I just don't care about books much. A farm boy doesn't need any." Said Eragon, his face still red.
Everyone needs books, you thought, but you kept it to yourself.
You knew he was lying, and you felt guilty for a second for wounding his pride, but he shook his head.
"Well, I was wondering, could you help me make a bow and some arrows? I want to learn to hunt, like you, now that…" You looked down at your hand, and he understood.
"Yea." Said Eragon. "I actually bought you something." Your eyebrows quirked up, and he smiled and showed picked up a simple gold chain with a simple ring around it.
"You didn't have to buy me anything."
"I wouldn't have. I actually had no choice- the lady was pestering me and offered it for five coins. Five! We should wait until late at night until we buy things."
"I know right?" You agreed with him as he slid it into your hands. "I'll put it on later.
Now, the two of you had reached the fire, sitting on the logs. Eragon found a seat beside Horst, and you greeted him kindly.
Brom was, as you mentioned before, an intriguing man. His white hair was long, as was his beard, and he had a hawk like nose and thick eyebrows which were still a dark brown or black. He had coal black eyes which twinkled when he told his stories, which you and Eragon always eagerly listened to. Eragon said Brom didn't live here all his life, but he came years ago and settled in Carvahall. No one knew his history much, unlike other villagers.
The other villagers sat around the fire as he spoke. He gave a brief glance to you and Eragon, and you swore he smiled a bit, but it was gone before you could really think about it. An odd man. An odd man indeed.
You were tired, though. As he spoke of the captivating history of the dragons and their fall, which you tried, you really did, to listen to, you eventually slumped off onto Eragon's arm and fell asleep.
A few weeks had passed since then. And in that time, many changes had been made.
For one, it was discovered that the blue dragon was actually a she, and her name was Saphira. You named the gray, who was a he, a name that Brom had mentioned to you and Eragon on your last visit as he told the two of you more about dragons over tea. Well, you didn't choose it, really- he did. You gave him a list and he liked Jura. You liked it, too.
And speaking of that, it was discovered you could communicate with Jura, and Saphira with Eragon. Sometimes, you even swore that you yourself could hear Eragon's thoughts, but it must've been a placebo effect of some sort.
Jura was funny and sarcastic, but he was kind and wise. He and Saphira had soon learned to hunt on their own, much to the appreciation of you and Eragon. The dragons were impeccable hunters, and took pride in it as well.
While you toiled away in the fields, more than usual as of late, you'd have a conversation with Jura nearly all day.
Considering that Eragon wasn't talking to anyone much, and had a chip on his shoulder since Roran left for the miller's job so he could marry Katrina next spring.
You would miss him, no doubt, and you didn't have a right to make Eragon stop being 'emo', as you once told him. But Roran was a man, and he loved Katrina. He couldn't stay here forever. You wondered often if Eragon understood that he couldn't stay here forever, either.
Eragon simply stalked off after you voiced this, ignoring you for the next two days until you finally cornered him and demanded he speak with you. He told you, finally, of how truly sad he was that Roran had left- and you kindly wiped away his tears, giving an awkward hug. You were never good at reassurance.
"It's temporary, Eragon." You said. "He'll be back in spring- you know it. He might be in a different house, but we could visit him all the time."
It was a lie. You weren't even sure if the two of you would be here in spring; the two dragons were the size of horses now. You mentioned it to Eragon- how their tracks in the snow would call villagers attention, but he said they'd just have to be more careful.
It was getting on your very last nerve, to say the least. Eragon was still a boy, and had much growing to do in the way of maturity. But perhaps he was just stubborn. At night, when you read and learned all you could about Alagaesia, he would ignore you, probably in conversation with Saphira or deep thought. However, still just a boy.
But you were still a girl. And that meant when people took more than a certain amount of time to listen to what you had to say you would fire back.
"Eragon!" You nearly shouted, now in the woods of the spine. Eragon had helped you make a bow, but he wasn't teaching you much about hunting. No, he was sulking around and simply asking you to follow him.
"The point of hunting is that you have to be quiet." He quipped, making you take a deep breath as not to tackle him into the snow.
"I am aware of that, thank you. But you said you'd teach me to-"
He's going to take a while to get over this new development. Jura's voice spoke in your head. He and Saphira had recently caught some rabbits, which they feasted on now.
He's taking too long, Jura. We have to go one day. I understand he lost Rora-
No, you don't. Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. You're different, fiery one. You can adapt to changes easier. You can leave and grow and cut off strings easier than him. And you've never had a brother, or any sibling, for that matter. Your life was different than his- you didn't spend all day, every day with family.
Whatever. You grumbled. You heard him chuckle in your head, carrying on with his meal, not looking where you were going and bumping into Eragon's leather vest.
He caught you before you slipped on the ice beneath your feet. However, he slipped as well, and you both tumbled down the hill and you nearly hit your head on some trees the way down.
When the two of you reached the bottom you stayed on your back, looking up at the blueish gray sky as Eragon stood. You giggled. "That was fun." You said, making a snow angel
You heard Eragon grumble to the side, and your laughter was gone, replaced with an unsatisfactory frown like a child who had its toy taken away.
"You know," you said, dusting off the snow from your legs, "The mark doesn't hurt much anymore. The one on my hand. I'm assuming yours doesn't hurt anymore either. What did Brom call them again? Silver palms-"
"No."
"No to the silver palm thing? I swore that's what he called it. You know, we really do need to find a pair of gloves-"
"No to the pain thing."
Your jaw clenched. You missed your friend, undoubtedly, but now he was sulking to the point he almost ignored you, still.
You bit your lip. Jura warned you, in your head, not to talk about the subject which had been on your mind since he hatched from the stone, but you ignored his advice. Eragon wanted to be annoying, and so could you.
"Eragon."
"(Y/N)."
"If this Galbatorix is as evil as Brom described," the moment the words left your mouth, Eragon began walking faster, but so did you. "If he doesn't want any dragon riders, we're in danger. Jura and Saphira are in danger."
"We're in Carvahall, a small, unvaluable town by the spine. No one comes here." He said stubbornly.
Worthy enough to send soldiers, you thought.
"Eragon, he'll find us."
He shook his head, refusing to look at you. His jaw clenched as he looked down at the snow/
"He'll find us, he'll send soldiers after us. What do you think will happen to the villagers? To Garrow-"You went on.
"Shut up."
"I've seen the soldiers. They're cruel. They'll kill to find us-"You wouldn't stop, not until he listened.
"Shut up!"
"No! You need to listen to this. Both we and everyone else will be safer if we leave! You heard Brom. Dragons can become as large as hilltops. What happens when they start breathing fire? When Saphira and Jura become larger and need more meat? When their wingspans can no longer fit in the treetops? What happens when-"
"Shut up!" Eragon shouted, finally sitting down on the log. Your heart beat and your breath came in short. The boy would not listen. Not to you, at least. You hoped that Saphira would try soon to get it through his head.
You sat on your knees in front of him, taking his face in your hands, making him look at you. His jaw clenched under your hand and his eyebrows narrowed.
"You're the most stubborn person I've ever met. You know that, right?" You tried smiling, but it didn't work. Eragon looked down.
"I don't want to talk about it." Mumbled Eragon, licking his chapped lips.
"Will you at least talk to me again? Like friends?" It was a start, at least. "…Do you hate me?"
His eyes shot up. You took a moment to admire how they slowly turned to a lighter brown, almost a red, towards the outside of his iris and how there were even some flecks of gold in the center. He had rather large and innocent, owl like eyes framed by long dark lashes that caught some of the snow drift. "I couldn't hate you. You're my best friend."
"Best human friend, at least." You smiled then, standing to your feet.
"Now." He said, sighing. "Do you know how to shoot that thing?"
"You pull the stringy thing back and the arrow goes WHOOSH!" You grinned at him as he laughed.
"That's a no." He picked up his own bow. "They're some trees I carved targets on last winter. We can use those. They shouldn't be far from here."
The unrelenting feeling of impending doom still sat in your stomach, but your mind was simply giddy that your friend was back to normal.
Everything was fine.
You had a dream that night.
It felt so real that even when you woke, you shook with tears in your eyes and your lip quivered. Eragon was a heavy sleeper, so he didn't wake. But you were glad, in a way. It took away some embarrassment.
The dream felt surreal. These two awful, black creatures that hissed and looked at you with odd, birdlike eyes. They killed and killed and killed and they didn't stop.
You saw frightened eyes and then everything was dark- the hissing went on, though.
You didn't want to think of it anymore. You tore off your covers and your feet landed on the cold floor- it woke you up.
Eragon turned over and slowly opened his eyes, trailing them up your legs and to your face. "Why are you awake?"
"Bad dream."
"Want to talk about it?" Said Eragon between a yawn.
"No."
"Want to talk about something else?"
You paused, taking in brief appreciation the way the moonlight captured the dark curls and made them shine, and you even noticed that he had some stray chestnut blonde hair in the front.
"Yea."
He closed his eyes, but he didn't sleep. "You never tell me about your home. Your family."
"There's not much to tell."
"What about Earth? How different it was?"
You sat down on his mattress cross legged. "It's kind of like this one. No magic, though."
"Then how did you get here?"
"It was probably magic from this world." You said. "There were more nations. More countries. I was from one called America. We didn't have an empire leader or a king or queen. We had a president, and people chose him or her every four years."
His eyebrows widened. "That's… weird."
"And there were laws. All kids had to go to school and learn to read, write, basic math. You could be whatever you wanted, in a perfect world. But like all societies there were classes. The rich, the middle class, the poor."
You went on, trying your best to describe the technology, the lifestyle. Eragon was curious now.
"Tell me about your family."
"I told you already. I told you I had one parent, like you." Your eyes suddenly found your hand very interesting, and you picked at the nails.
"No, tell me." Demanded Eragon. You shrugged.
"I wasn't very close with my mom. She had to work to make sure we would be comfortable, like a lot, because my dad left before I was born." You described. "I had some good friends. I had a few boyfriends. My life was pretty normal. Good grades in school, one of the best, actually."
Eragon slowly took it all in. "And you don't miss it?"
You looked down at him, and thought for a second. Then, "I miss some things. I missed my friends at first. I missed some material things- air conditioning. Some food which will never be found here. Movies. Music. Stuff like that." You swallowed. "But I'm pretty good at not missing things." You explained. "I think my upbringing caused that."
"That's okay," said Eragon. "That can be helpful sometimes."
"I feel empty sometimes, too."
"Well, we're your family now. Me, Garrow, Roran, Saphira, Jura." He sat up. "You have us, (Y/N)."
You smiled, a warm feeling entering your heart. He was right. "I have you." You sighed- the images of your nightmare were forgotten. Yawning, you stretched your arms like a cat. "Thank you."
"For what?" Asked Eragon.
"For taking me in. And being my friend." You licked your lips. "You know, every day, I wonder why I was chosen. To come here. To be a dragon rider."
"You're special."
"Everyone's special, Eragon."
"But you're probably more special. I've never seen anyone be so awful at shooting an arrow in my life." At this, you pushed him playfully, making him laugh.
Finally, you settled back into bed. Jura had been listening to your conversation with Eragon the whole time.
You know, Jura. I wouldn't trade any of this for my old world.
I know.
Jura?
Yes?
When do you think I could fly?
Soon, probably.
I can't wait. I mean, I'm not the best with heights, but I'm not awful either.
Even dragon riders who were afraid of heights were ridden of their fear once they became riders. It'll be alright, little one.
Goodnight, Jura.
Goodnight, (Y/N).
ERAGONS POV
He slowly opened his eyes. The light didn't blind him at first, so he knew it was cloudy. And cloudy meant colder than usual.
He stood, looking out the window. It had snowed last night. The sound of your grumbles reached his ears and he smiled.
She's pretty. Saphira teased.
Shut up. He blushed. He knew she was pretty- from the first day in the woods, actually. Probably even prettier than Katrina, who was considered the prettiest girl in town.
You were the one who thought it.
Yea, yea. The short conversation ended there, for Saphira seemed to have caught a small hare in the snow and was digging her teeth into it.
He looked at (Y/N) again. It's not like he had never thought of her that way. He simply pushed it out of his mind once those type of thoughts entered it. Besides, he was too awkward to act on any of those thoughts.
She finally opened her eyes, making Eragon turn away. "Good morning." She muttered, sitting up and stretching.
"I think this is the last harvest day. We have enough wood." This meant that there was really nothing to do today. Eragon knew (Y/N) had finished her book a while ago, so she would probably either hunt or go to town with him.
"I don't feel like going into town." Said (Y/N.) "I actually want to hunt, on my own. I think I can."
"Will you be alright?" Eragon asked. He knew she would, she was strong, but she was a bit reckless anyway.
"I'll be fine. Besides, there are two dragons in those woods. I think I'm covered for now." She finally stood. "You should talk to Brom today. Try and find out something more."
"That's what I was thinking." He said as he childishly breathed against the window and drew various shapes and designs. He felt her presence beside him. She looked out the window.
"It snowed last night." Said (Y/N).
They both knew this wasn't good. Eragon was almost certain it was going to melt soon. But more snow meant more tracks for the dragons, more snow meant more people running out of food in their stores, more snow meant they would go hunting in the spine for meat.
As Eragon exited the room to allow her to change, she turned. "Eragon."
"Yea?"
"Be careful." (Y/N) toyed with the necklace on her neck, rubbing the ring with her index finger and thumb.
A sense of dread settled in his gut, and he suddenly was aware of how very, very cold it was. The chill traveled up his spine and made his shoulders stiffen. "You too."
VERY LARGE TIME SKIP
He knew something was wrong the moment he entered Carvahall.
Not many were out today. Doors were closed.
Something was here.
YOUR POV
You had actually caught two squirrels and a hare, and needless to say you were in the middle of celebrating a victory when Jura's voice pierced through your mind.
It's Eragon.
What?
He's in trouble. The Ra'Zac. Murderers! Egg thieves! They're here!
Who's here? What's wrong with Eragon?
Saphira has taken him. He's flying.
I need to get Garrow-
NO.
But-
It's not safe! These are murderers!
You could feel the pure hatred from Jura's mind for these monsters. But you needed to get to Garrow. You needed to-
But your train of thought was cut off when your feet no longer touched the ground and the air become much colder and you couldn't breathe for at least five seconds. Suddenly, you could see the tops of trees.
You were flying
Jura's claws gripped your shoulders and brought you up until you could see across the spine to Therinsford, then he dropped you and you felt as though your heart had left your body through your throat.
You screamed, not even realizing it, but then you landed rather uncomfortably on a mass of scales and flesh and you realized that you were riding.
However, it wasn't particularly pleasant. He was going so fast you couldn't speak or think and only held on for dear life, digging your skin into the scales of his sides and closing your eyes so they didn't water against the bitter wind.
"I need to get to Garrow! He needs help!"
It is not safe!
Please!
You felt a jolt and realized he had landed on a tree top. Now, you had time to register that you were up very high, and you shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts.
Eragon has gotten Garrow. He's taken him back to the village to a healer.
Why is he going BACK to the place where this STARTED?!
Jura didn't answer.
Jura, we need to go. I need to be with Eragon and Garrow-
No.
Jura, take me to them!
It's not safe, little one. They are murderers! The Raz'ac are not a joke! They took eggs, they killed them! They are the king's puppets of death and evil. You will not stand a chance-
I don't care! Let me go! Or I'll jump off this tree!
I'd catch you. The gray dragon quipped.
I demand you to take me to Eragon! I'm your rider! You yelled
It is not safe. Jura retorted.
Nowhere is safe. Eragon needs me. Garrow needs me.
The world needs you, young one. Said Jura
Take. Me. To. Them.
Jura let you walk the last mile to Carvahall. He joined Saphira, preparing to fly the two out of there if need be.
You ran as fast as you could, and when you couldn't run and the snow was too much, you walked. Your heart beat at a fast pace, and you needed to stop at the last couple of yards to take a breath. Looking back, you noticed your tracks. What would villagers say when they noticed Eragon's and that wooden board, which you assumed carried Garrow, all the way from the farm, but yours not starting until the last mile?
You only just then noticed that the scales of Jura had pierced your skin, and you were bleeding. Your forearms and thighs were suddenly screaming against the fabric of your clothing and you wanted nothing more than to take it off and jump in the snow for relief.
By the time you got to Carvahall, it was dark. The first person who greeted you was Brom.
"Where's Eragon? Where's Garrow? What happened-"
"Come, young one." Said Brom, walking towards the center of town. "Eragon is healing- he will not wake for a while."
"And Garrow? What's wrong with Garrow?"
Brom didn't answer, but you knew he had heard you. "Take me to Garrow!"
"I cannot, yet. Stay by Eragon until he wakes. I have other matters to attend to."
This man was pissing you off. "What other matters? What happened? What are the Raz'ac?!" You nearly shouted. He wasn't giving you answers and you were on the verge of freaking out. However, you knew you caught his attention when he stiffened at the fear bringing name.
Finally, he turned back to you and his eyes pierced into your head. "Quiet, girl, less the wrong person hears you. You will be safe for now. Do not leave Eragon's side."
"Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on." You spat, staring at him steadily.
And he had the audacity to smile. "All in due time." You had arrived at his cottage. "Now go."
You bit your cheek, breathing out angrily. You would talk to him later. For now, Eragon needed you.
You opened the wooden door to find the village healer sitting by the fire, preparing tea.
You didn't greet her. "What happened to him? Is he going to be alright?" She looked up at you, gesturing for you to take a seat. You stood.
"Sit. Have some tea."
"I asked a question."
The woman shook her head at your rudeness. You did not care. "He was mainly tired- ran at least ten miles today with little food. He has these odd marks on his forearms and thighs- the skin is irritated and peeled off. It's not bleeding anymore. He should be awake tomorrow."
"What happened to Garrow?"
The woman paused her stirring of the tea bag. "If he wakes, it will not be tomorrow."
"Where is he?"
"Horsts. Don't fret- We will discuss all of this tomorrow." She said, standing.
"I want to discuss it now." You bitterly said. You did not have time for petty superiority. Garrow was Eragon's uncle, for Christs' sake, and your care taker. But you bit your tongue, drained of the energy for an argument. Besides, no one could exactly stop you from seeing Garrow but Horst, if he caught you.
"Now, little one, you must stay by his side so I can attend to Garrow. If you care about him you won't frighten him when he wakes or allow him to see Garrow yet, either." And with that, she exited the cottage, leaving the tea and allowing some cool air inside.
You realized you still had your hunting equipment. You set it down, your jacket as well, and plopped on the old wooden chair beside the cot where Eragon slept.
You knew this would happen. You knew. For a second, you were angry at Eragon. If you two had left, this wouldn't have happened. If he had listened to you, you all would've been fine.
But that didn't matter now. What's done is done. You leaned forward, watching him breathe slowly. You brushed some hair out of his eyes and slowly pulled off the blanket to look at his wounds.
His were much worse than yours. Perhaps he gripped Saphira tighter or tried to move around more than you did on Jura. You pulled the blanket back up.
"You're going to be hell when you wake." You muttered. "We'll be alright, though. I promise."
With that, you leaned your head and arms forward, laying the top half of your body on the cot where Eragon slept, and slowly succumbed to sleep yourself.
You dreamed of running this time. Running for a very, very long time.
You never did like running.
You were woken again because of said dreaming. Eragon was still asleep, but the color had slowly returned to his cheeks and his breathing was more even. He was warmer, but it didn't seem like he had a fever.
The tea was probably cold by now, but oh well.
You thought of your dream again.
It started off with you running. Always running. But there was a boy- it wasn't Eragon. And not even a boy- more like a man. He had black hair that reached his shoulders and piercing gray eyes that were beneath straight, bold brows. He wore all black, and had somewhat pale skin. But not healthy pale skin that had still seen the sun, no, the kind that said he was indoors for a very long time.
But he was standing there. And your curiosity made you run to him, but no matter how far or fast you ran, he stayed the same distance away. He simply stood there and stared at you with those focused, unblinking eyes.
It was when Jura came into the dream that it ended.
I thought you might need to wake. Saphira said Eragon would awaken soon.
Oh, thanks.
Silence.
What now, Jura?
Now, we run. We cannot stay here, little one. I know Saphira agrees. If need be, she will force Eragon away from Carvahall. It is our duty to keep our riders alive.
Where do we go?
He did not answer. You waited, but still, nothing.
Your dragon was wiser than you were, and for once, you chose to completely listen to him and wait.
After a couple of minutes, Eragon finally opened his eyes. He tried sitting up quickly, but you stopped him, slowly helping him up.
"What happened? Where's Garrow?" asked Eragon in a strained voice.
"The Raz'ac happened. Garrow is at Horsts and no, we may not see him yet. Trust me, I already tried." He looked at you, eyes briefly glancing over your body and stopping momentarily on the wounds on your hands.
"I need to see him. I need to speak to-" Eragon started, but you interrupted him.
"The only thing you need to do is drink something and get something in your stomach. We'll handle the rest." His brows furrowed and he was going to protest, but he stopped.
Thanks, Saphira.
As he was having his conversation with her, you went to the tea kettle. It was cold.
Annoyed, you began to start a fire again, but before you could, you suddenly felt the steam on your cheek and the tea was warm again.
Your hand, under the bandage, tingled. You were going to take it off, but decided against it. Getting another would cause suspicion.
That was quite odd… Anyway, you poured Eragon a cup and gave it to him. "Drink. I'll find us something to eat." You were quite hungry as well.
You assumed Brom kept his food in the back room, so that's where you started. But when you opened the pantry, all you found was some bread and meat, just enough for the two of you.
Odd. Brom was one of the wealthiest villagers- you would've thought his pantry would be full. Did he clear it out recently? No matter. The meat strips were more like jerky, so you unwrapped them and took a bite off of one. It was hard to chew, but you swallowed it and it temporarily appeased your growling stomach.
You were relieved to see Eragon still there. You tossed him his food and sat on the chair across from him, savagely biting into your own. You two didn't speak for a while- it was not necessary. However, finally, the silence was too much.
"Are you alright?" Asked Eragon.
"Better off than you." You gestured to the scabs on his legs and arms, and he eyed yours.
"I think it's safe to say," he paused, chewing between his words, "That our first time flying was most certainly not the greatest experience."
"Really? I found it quite exhilarating. Where's your sense of adventure, Eragon?" You said sarcastically. He smirked a bit, but then stopped.
"I need to see Garrow." He said.
"I know. We will."
It was silent for a few minutes after that. Jura told you to speak to Eragon again about leaving, but for once, you didn't want to. The fact that Garrow was wounded and hurt took over most of your thoughts.
"(Y/N)," he spoke, "I'm not leaving Garrow. They'll come back for him. Because of us." Eragon's face was pointed, determined, and he looked at you unblinking as though you'd try and tell him otherwise.
You were silent, staring at the floorboards. You knew you couldn't stay, and that Garrow would not go with you two. And you also had a feeling in your gut that Garrow was not okay. From Jura's visions, the Raz'ac were terrible, nearly invincible creatures who'd kill just for the sake of killing. They were cruel and merciless, and whatever happened to Garrow would be difficult to come over. They wouldn't leave him alive for a no reason, and as hard as you tried to think, them leaving Garrow alive had no positive points for them.
Galbatorix will want to hurt us, and killing loved ones is the easiest way to do so. You mused to Jura. He agreed.
He could've left Garrow alive as bait for Eragon and you.
Then why didn't they take him, Jura? Why did they leave him barely alive other than the sake to hurt Eragon? If anything is the bait for us, it is the Raz'ac. Eragon will want revenge. Fuck, I want revenge.
He did not respond, but you both knew.
Garrow was going to die. You wouldn't voice your thoughts to Eragon. He needed to understand on his own.
He was still just a boy, after all. Dragon Rider or not. So you simply held Eragon's hand as the two of you pondered in silence.
You began planning your escape early. Eragon would not discuss it with you, so you didn't even try to voice your plans.
You didn't know where you'd go, you just knew you had to get away. You needed a map of Alagaesia. You'd need food, weapons, disguises, back stories, money.
Jura had told you they'd burned down most of the farm, but there could still be some useful supplies there. You'd start then. You would have to steal some things from the villagers, you knew.
Get leather.
What?
We need two large pieces of leather. Said Jura.
Why?
Saddles.
I don't know how to make a saddle, Jura. I can't even cut out halfway decent shapes with scissors.
He didn't respond again. What food stayed good for a while? Jerky- you'd still caught the two squirrels and the hare. That could last you and Eragon around a week. Saphira and Jura could hunt, but they had to stay out of sight most of the day.
It was winter. You could find some jars, probably, of canned vegetables and fruits. Bread would last for a bit. Wine or alcohol, maybe you could snatch some of the herbal teas the healer had in case one or both of you became sick.
You only had, for sure, the bow and few arrows and your dagger between you and Eragon. It wouldn't suffice, but the village didn't have an armory and the only place you knew that had knives of any sort was Sloan, the butchers place. But jura had told you that the Raz'ac had killed him, and you didn't feel like going there any time soon.
As you busied your thoughts for preparations, you forced yourself not to think of Garrow. It was not time to grieve, yet. It was time to survive.
A warrior does not grieve those whom she's lost until after the war is won.
But there wasn't a war. Yet.
Your thoughts were interrupted as a cold chill went over your head. You turned to see Gertrude. She smiled.
"Oh! I see you're awake." She gestured to Eragon.
He looked at her with steady eyes. "Can I see Garrow?"
Gertrude, her name was, paused, looking over the two of you and finally sighed. "Yes. Come, follow me. Garrow is at Horst's." Gertrude pointed the pile of Eragon's clothing. "Put on your clothes, we'll go visit him." Before she turned, however, she spoke to him again.
"And Eragon… Do not be frightened by what you see." The woman tried to quirk a smile, but it faltered, so she simply turned. You looked back at Eragon and gave his hand a final squeeze.
Jura, you thought, is everything alright? Are you comfortable? We'll probably be here for a few days.
I will be alright. There are a few deer here that I can sink my jaws into, young one.
Okay. Look.. I think the villagers are beginning to suspect something in the woods. You and Saphira must stay hidden. You said as you saw a group of men in thick clothes carrying spears and hunting gear march past you. You cannot be seen.
Have more faith, little one. I will see you in a few days.
Eragon isn't doing well.
He'll be alright. He's strong.
He is.
You must understand that humans are different, every single one. You and him especially, in some ways.
I know, you mused. You bit your cheek, however. You knew Garrow was going to die, and you wanted to cry, but the tears refused to fall. He was a good man. He didn't deserve this.
No. Said Jura. Do not cry, little one. Not in front of Eragon. Not yet. You know, you are more like a dragon than you are a person.
Is that a good or bad thing? You asked.
It is neither.
Finally, Eragon opened the door. Gertrude waited beside him- it was clear she liked him much more than you. You didn't blame her. Eragon was familiar, kinder, and friendlier.
He began walking to Horst's. You had only been there once, to deliver something from the butcher, Sloan for some extra coins. You knew it was one of the nicest houses in the villages, and that Horst had a wife and a few kids.
You followed Eragon. What would you do if you saw Garrow? How would he look? Could you give Eragon false reassurance? Your heart began beating at the thought of lying to him, of looking him in the eye and telling him it was going to be alright when it was most clearly not.
Before you stepped inside, a hand caught your shoulder and you turned sharply around. It was Brom.
"May I borrow this one for a second? I believe I must move some logs to my house and my old arms have seen stronger days, I'm afraid." He chuckled. You looked to Eragon, mentally asking him, do you need me?
You almost swore you heard a yes, but Eragon forced a smile and waved you a short farewell. You were thankful Brom had saved you. Maybe by the time you were done, it would be dark and everyone in Horsts would be asleep so you could quietly slip into a room and go to bed, avoiding further interaction.
Brom eyed you with such knowing eyes that it was hard to look in them. He walked across the street, showing you where the logs were. "I need ten."
You purposefully took your time lifting and dropping them, and you kindly offered to simply transport them all. Brom did not complain about you wasting his time.
"I'll make a fire, too."
You were thankful that he did not mention Garrow or Eragon.
You made small chat with him as you made the fire, (which Eragon taught you how to do properly) and before you picked up your things, he stopped you. "And (Y/N), you may think that not confronting Eragon is not the right thing to do. But you and Eragon need each other like the earth needs both the sun and rain. Do not be afraid to be strong or weak."
Your mouth hung open, but you bowed your head kindly in respect, and left with a simple "Thank you, sir."
It was dark by the time you got to Horsts. You took your time eyeing the shops. Sloan had the butchers' shop, where you could find some jerky, perhaps, if you couldn't scavenge some anywhere else. There was some leather hanging outside of one and you knew now where Gertrude's shop was to get the teas.
After ensuring the Jura was still alright, you knocked on Horst's door. A pretty woman opened it, recognized you, and ushered you inside.
"Here, child." She gestured to the stool. "Have a seat. We have some leftover dinner." You then only realized how hungry you were, and you gladly smiled and thanked her. You assumed she was Horst's wife. It was Elaine, right?
Speaking of said black bearded man, he was sitting across from you. "Eragon's asleep. I wouldn't recommend visiting Garrow until tomorrow, he needs his rest." He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. Of course, your own smile wasn't much better.
"Is he alright?"
"As alright as he can be." Said Elain, Horsts wife.
As you gulped down your meal, you could feel their eyes on you. You couldn't stand it anymore.
"You want to ask me something. From your hesitation, I can see you asked Eragon too, and he didn't respond as you'd hoped he would." You looked at them from over your cup.
Horst peered back at you under bushy black eyebrows. "We need to know… there have been odd sightings in the woods. Garrow was injured in a way that Gertrude has never seen and Sloan died an odd, horrendous death. If there is a monster, a Shade, roaming about in those woods… you and Eragon are the one's who'd know." His words were rehearsed, polite but not warm.
You remembered your bag, which was sitting at your feet with the hare and two squirrels. "I was in the woods all day, hunting. I caught two squirrels and a hare," you picked up your bag, opening it to prove so. "I saw nothing out of the ordinary. When I got back, the farm was burned down, and Eragon was nowhere to be seen. I saw his tracks lead towards the village, so that's where I went."
"He had scabs on his arms and legs." Said Horst. It was clear your answer must not have been satisfactory either. Your heart began beating at a faster rate. As you flattened your palms on the table so he wouldn't see the marks similar to Eragon's.
"He pulled Garrow out of all that wood and rubble," you said, "Probably there. Everything was a mess- it couldn't have been easy to get through there unscathed." You faked a yawn, stretching your arms. "Thank you both for everything," you said before he could ask you father questions, "But I'd like to retire."
"The room Eragon's in is two doors down on the left. There's only one bed."
"I'll sleep in a chair." And with that, you walked up the stairs, going to the door Horst described. Unsurprisingly, Eragon sat upright, looking out the window. His brown eyes, which were red rimmed from crying, stared outside.
"Hey." You greeted.
That was a close one, with Horst. I hope I'm not too bad of a liar.
You were alright. Said Jura.
We will have to leave soon. Before they come back.
"(Y/N)?"
"Yea?"
Eragon paused, biting his lip. "Can I hug you?"
You smiled, saying nothing but opening your arms. He quickly rose and hugged you so tight you thought you couldn't breathe.
"We'll be alright, Eragon." You said, stroking your hand through his dark curls.
"Is that a lie?"
"It's the only truth I'm sure of at the moment." You said, finally releasing him.
"We should sleep." Said Eragon, walking towards the chair in the corner of the room.
"Eragon, we can share the bed. We've surpassed that level of awkwardness." You almost swore you saw him blush, but he climbed into the bed anyway. You scooted in under the blankets, turning away from him. You'd never slept with anyone this close before, and his shaky breath on your neck was unnerving, but you still did not touch each other.
Finally, you fell asleep, closing your eyes and relaxing your body until you turned on your back and your entire right side was against Eragon's left.
Goodnight, Jura.
Goodnight, hatchling.
You grinned at the name. You did nothing when you felt Eragon's hand nervously take yours, bringing it up to his cheek and holding it there.
You felt a few watery drops on it throughout the night, so you didn't take it back.
The moment you woke, you knew something was wrong.
The inevitable happened. Garrow was dead. The spot beside you was empty and had recently been left, due to the fact it was still warm. You sat up, holding the edge of the bed as though it was the last thing keeping you upright.
He's dead, Jura.
I know, little one.
I want to cry. I want to scream. It's not fair!
The Raz'ac are murderers, monsters. No one deserves a death by such creatures.
I'm going to kill them, Jura. Now you could feel the hot, salty drops slide down your cheeks as you fought to hold in sobs. I'm going to kill them. And Galbatorix. I'll kill them all.
I know. I know. But do not let your heart be filled with hate at a time when love is needed. There is a time to hate and a time to love and a time to grieve, hatchling. I will be with you always, but now is not the time to hate.
You're right. You bit your lip. You were thankful for the Jura now more than ever. Jura, I don't want to go in that room. I don't want to see him like that. I want to remember him as a kind, simple man with a smile on his face. I don't want my last memory to be like this.
I understand, little one. But you might regret it.
I do not regret, Jura.
I know.
Eragon stalked into the room. He was not crying. No, he was determined. You wiped your own tears and stood.
"We have to go." He said. And with that, the two of you packed your things, and each took a blanket off the bed.
"There might be some food downstairs." He nodded.
"We'll be finished sooner if we separate. Meet me at the farm in a few hours."
You took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll go to the leather shop and Gertrude's, get some medicine and blankets. You find food at the butchers, maybe some knives." Eragon agreed to this. "Was there anything left at the farm?"
He temporarily paused. "I don't know. I didn't look."
"We need money."
"I have some."
"We need more money, Eragon."
"I'll get some."
"Me too."
When you were done packing, you looked at him. His eyes lost some of their warmth now, and you hoped that it would come back. "We're going to get them. We're going to make them pay for what they've done."
And with that, you two quietly crept downstairs, swept through the kitchen and found some bread, two canteens, and three jars of canned vegetables, one being green beans and the other carrots. Eragon took some salt and pepper, as well as some other herb that smelled alright, and the two of you separated.
You felt bad. But you didn't let it get to you as you stalked up the steps to the leather shop and took off two large brown pieces of leather. Then, you went to Gertrude's. She was still at Horst's, but you didn't know how long she'd be, so you hurried in collecting a needle and thread, bandages, some ointments and a few packets of tea leaves that were labeled 'cold,' 'fever,' 'ache,' and 'contaminated water.'
You'd need horses, you knew, but you could get them later along with saddles and saddle bags. For now, you could put some of the load on Saphira and Jura so you and Eragon could walk faster and reach the next town with horses available.
For a frightening moment, you thought Gertrude was back, but it was simply the wind. With everything in hand, and some coins you'd scavenged under the chair which she must've prepared the teas, you quietly tiptoed out of the hut and jogged and dodged through the houses until Carvahall was behind you.
You had a feeling in your gut that you would never see this place again.
Jura?
I'm at the farm. Eragon and someone else is here.
What?
I like him. He's quite flattering.
Who's there?!
Jura did not answer you, and instead, you walked to the farm in silence, curiosity putting an extra ump in your step. You clutched your bag tightly. It was all you had, along with the bow and 6 arrows in the quiver. Archery wasn't even your strong point- if Eragon lost his bow, you'd give him yours.
(TIME SKIP)
You arrived, finally. And it seems Brom did too.
"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked.
"And now, we finally can be on our way. Come, we must go."
"Where are we going?" You asked. You looked to Eragon for answers, but he just shook his head as though he'd already gone through this. "We have food?" You eyed the bags Brom carried. "Jura!" You also noticed Eragon had his own bow. And was that a sword at Brom's side?
"How did you know we'd be here?" You asked again.
He ignored you and answered the first question. "We're going to kill the Raz'ac, of course. And then I don't know where we're going- that's for you and Eragon to decide. The Varden? Killed by Galbatorix? Who knows?"
"How did you know we were- you spoke to Jura?" You asked Brom, getting frustrated quickly.
"Yes. A fine dragon. Both are, actually. Very fine dragons."
"What the fuck?" You whispered. Eragon shook his head again, a grumpy pout on his face.
"Where are we GOING?" you nearly shouted, and Brom shook his head.
"You want to kill the Raz'ac?" Said Brom. He turned to look at you. "Then it's not going to be easy. It'll take a while. It'll be a chase."
"And then we're going back to Carvahall, (Y/N)." Eragon interrupted.
"What? No we're not- we're riders, we need to go to- wherever it is we're needed to take down Galbatorix." The thoughts that had ran through your head were finally out in the open. Great.
Eragon stopped. "What?"
"You heard me!"
"I'm not going to the Varden."
"Yes, we are." Before the argument could commence, Brom stopped the two of you.
"We have a long, long time before we reach the Varden, or any clue to the Raz'ac, undoubtedly. You two have some time to decide."
What's with this guy?
I find him quite interesting.
Of course you do, Jura. Where are you anyways?
Ahead. I'll find you come nightfall when you make camp. For now, save your energy. It's a long walk to the next town.