Disclaimer - The characters do not belong to me; however, the scenario does. Credit to where credit is due.

Notes - This is my first ever fanfic, and as of such, it has not been betaed. If there are any mistakes, please point them out. I tried to stay as true to the book as possible. Translations for the Ancient Language are at the bottom.

Far away from Alagaësia, beyond the end of the Edda river and the last plains, where the dwarf village of Hedarth was nothing but a distant settlement, were the hatching grounds of the dragons.

The valley was surrounded by sheer mountains, whose size rivalled those of the Spine, the sides far too steep and tall for anyone to enter on two legs. A vast forest stretched around the base of the mountain ring, though the trees nowhere near as giant and majestic as even the outer ones of Du Weldenvarden. Inside the valley, the sides sloped down into an area of land of many square kilometres, the grass green and lush. The different plants and flowers within the valley were numerous, a field of white blossoms covering the base of one of the mountains, gnarled bushes another.

It was a perfect and serene place to raise the young dragons, and a safe one. Without strong magic, no one would be able to scale the walls, and wards were placed on the top of each mountain to alert the inhabitants to anyone entering. Even the dragons would be seen coming into the hatching grounds.

Somewhere close to the middle, away from the herds of deer that roamed the northern end of the valley, a large building was taking shape. The blocks of stone, carved from the sides of the mountains themselves, were difficult to lift, even with the aid of the Ancient Language. It had taken Eragon a few months to even get the hall to the stage it was in now, with the outer shell fully complete and ready to shelter the eggs. All 241 of them were still in the invisible pocket of air at a certain point behind Saphira, despite the Eldunarís' urges for Eragon to hurry. Two of the eggs that were ready to be bonded with Riders had been left with Arya.

There's only so much I can do each day.

Eragon placed the block of stone down, lifting himself and wiping his brow. The valley had been a lucky find. They had sailed upon Talíta for eighteen nights before the river ran too narrow for the mighty ship to safely go farther. It was as if Talíta knew this, coming to a standstill of her own accord. Eragon and Saphira had travelled towards the mountains on the distant horizon for a further day, the Eldunarí not knowing whether the place would be suitable or not. While in the Vault of Souls, their reach had extended far, but not so far. It had taken Saphira almost all the daylight hours to even fly to the foot of the mountains, where they had set up camp for the night.

Now, many weeks later, the preparations for the hatching ground were well underway. Umaroth in particular had been content with the valley. I can sense no evil here, had been his words.

Eragon smiled wryly. None but the back-breaking work. Even the dwarves would have had trouble completing the hall. Despite the help that he had with Blödhgarm and the other elves that had chosen to accompany him, it had still been hard. He looked down on the peaceful valley - the sun was at it's highest point.

Stop complaining, little one. Just think, in another few weeks, my kind will finally have children. Saphira's claws clattered on the rock as she gouged out dirt and mud so that blocks could be removed and shaped easier, some of her strength feeding into her Rider. Eragon nodded, taking the block the rest of the way and putting it into position.

Eragon, that is enough for now. The younglings will have a roof over their head, and shelter for when it is cold. Ward the house against danger. The Eldunarí had instructed Eragon and the others these past weeks, not only on where to actually build the hall - over a kilometre away from the rock, as it was - but on the measurements. He and Saphira intended to stay here for the rest of their lives, and she would grow larger than she was now. The archway and the hall needed to be large enough to accommodate both her and many other dragons.

At first, Eragon had not thought a hall of such a size would be possible. Even for the dwarves, and their love of over-sized Tronejheim, it seemed a ridiculous height and width. Big enough to fit at least ten dragons of Saphira's size, with room to spare, only the Eldunarís' strength and Saphira's help and encouragement had kept Eragon going. The elves were a great asset, of course, but there was much else to do than just build. Each night, he fell into a dreamless sleep, only to wake up at dawn to begin again. The work had been monotonous, but he understood it's need. While the dragons were still young, it would be safer for them to have a place to retreat to if anything attacked.

As of that day, the only trouble they had come across was a curious type of animal. The Eldunarí had not seen them before, and so Eragon had christened it hvitköttr. It had the shape of a cat with dull white fur, though it's mane was like sharp ivory rather than just strands of hair, and the size of a Shrrg. After watching it carefully, they knew it was a dangerous hunter, yet the few that they had seen - grouped together, in a pack - had been content to leave Eragon alone, while Saphira was there. They seemed to hunt only the deer, and rarely strayed far from the herds.

Eragon had no doubt that there would be other strange animals in the valley that they just hadn't found yet, but he was confident that there wouldn't be anything of a big consequence to them. Nonetheless, he agreed with the idea of it being better to be safe than sorry, and so plans for the great hall had been made.

Casting many wards, ones that would keep the hall safe from different magic attacks and physical ones, making sure that he would be able to use the Eldunarís' strength if the time came, Eragon took a step back in satisfaction. They will have a place to hatch now, Saphira. She preened, tail lashing in excitement as she extended her neck to look around the empty room.

We must make it more homely for them. Fetch bedding, places for them to be comfortable and sleep.

Of course, Saphira.

Translations

hvitköttr - literally means 'whitecat'.