Until We Meet Again
Disclaimer: All characters and names, except for original ones, belong to Christopher Paolini. The first excerpt also belongs to him, as it was taken from Inheritance.
"Arya," he said. And he whispered her true name. A tremor of recognition ran through her.
She whispered his true name in response, and he too shivered at hearing the fullness of his being.
He opened his mouth to speak again, but Arya forestalled him by placing three of her fingers upon his lips. She stepped back from him then and raised one arm over her head.
"Farewell, Eragon Shadeslayer," she said.
And then Fírnen swept down from above and snatched her off the deck of the ship, buffeting Eragon with the gusts of air from his wings.
"Farewell," Eragon whispered.
Despair clutched at him then, sinking its cold claws deep into his heart. After all this time, all that they had been through, Eragon could not believe that it had been for naught. He was leaving Alagaësia. He was leaving the woman that he had yearned for since the moment he laid eyes upon her. His hands shook and Eragon clutched the ship's railing until his knuckles turned white. Tears that he had been desperately holding back streamed down his face, but Eragon had no wish to stop them. He wept for everything he had lost and everything that was not meant to be. Why was fate so cruel?
Oh little one, Saphira said. You know that I will always be here for you.
Eragon sniffed and wiped his eyes, even as the tears continued to flow. He smiled a little and said to her, I must look like such a fool right now. Quite the pathetic sight for the supposed leader of the Riders.
There is no shame in showing your grief; leaving behind everything you've ever known is harder than most would think.
You don't seem to have a problem with it, Eragon retorted. Especially considering you and Fírnen have already…mated. As soon as he sent the thought to Saphira, he winced and regretted it.
From the ship, Eragon could hear Saphira's mournful keen echo through the air. She said, You can feel my grief as surely as I can feel yours. I would never wish to be separated from Fírnen, but we all have our duties. You, of all people, should know this.
You're right. I'm sorry.
Saphira sent her love and forgiveness to him. The two of them consoled each other until Saphira said, Besides, there is nothing stopping me from seeing him again one day.
The statement shocked Eragon. But…but the prophecy! Angela said that I am to leave Alagaësia and never return!
I will not let something like a silly prophecy dictate my actions. There is no reason to never visit Alagaësia again. Certainly, we will be kept busy raising the dragons and the new Riders, but we will also be needed to communicate with the people of Alagaësia. Also, something tells me that we will not simply be left alone for all of eternity. This is our home, Eragon, and it would not be wise to separate ourselves entirely. Through their link, Eragon felt Saphira's conviction.
Saphira's words gave him hope, but still Eragon could not shake his feeling of unease. Everything else in Angela's prophecy had come true, so it was hard for him to believe that this particular part wouldn't. He knew that Saphira could feel his doubts, but all she said was, If your love for Arya is really so strong, you will definitely see her again. In any case, Saphira said with some amusement, the only evidence I've seen of your romance are your pitiful advances and her constant rejections. I would hardly call that 'epic'!
This caused blood to rush to Eragon's cheeks as he bit back a rebuttal. Though, he had to concede; on this point, Saphira was probably right. The thought cheered him up a little. His tears gradually slowed and he straightened his back until he was no longer crouched against the railing.
Eragon felt someone approach him from behind, and from a touch of his mind knew that it was Blödhgarm.
"You have left much behind, Shadeslayer."
Without looking at him, Eragon replied, "No more than the rest of you."
Eragon could feel Blödhgarm's yellow eyes upon him. "Indeed, we shall miss the dusky pines of Du Weldenvarden, as well as the sunlit glades of Ellesméra, and many things otherwise, but none of us I think are leaving behind something that would make us weep until our tears streamed like a waterfall into the river below." As with most of the elves' speech, Eragon could not tell if Blödhgarm was sincere or if he was saying that somewhat sardonically.
"Are you saying that I am weaker than all of you?" Eragon asked angrily. When he finally looked over at the elf, Eragon was surprised to see sympathy in Blödhgarm's eyes, and a compassion that he did not expect.
"Nay, Kingkiller; you are much stronger than us, to be able to leave that which you weep for behind. And we all respect and thank you for it. I only wish that we could ease your pain."
Eragon looked away, now ashamed. "I apologize, my words were too harsh. Can you forgive me for my poor reaction?" He smiled wryly and said, "As you can see, I'm not quite myself right now."
"I take no offense. Just remember that those who accompany you do so with utter respect and will follow you no matter where your journey takes you."
Blödhgarm's words were immensely humbling, especially since he knew that elves only gave their respect to the wisest and most powerful individuals. Eragon managed to say, "You honor me with your words. I only hope that I can live up to your expectations."
"I am sure you will," Blödhgarm replied. He bowed and turned to leave, but paused after taking a step. Over his furred shoulder, he said knowingly, "Nothing is eternal, Shadeslayer. We elves live long lives, and so will you. Who knows what may happen in the coming years?" With that, the elf melted into the shadows further into the ship.
Eragon wasn't entirely sure what he was hinting at, but those words, combined with Saphira's, strengthened his growing determination. He would not give up and roll over like a weary dog. Eragon faced the vast and unending plains before him. Like a silent specter, the Talíta glided smoothly on the moonlit river into the unknown. Darkness surrounded him, threatening and taunting him, but he was no longer afraid. He would overcome this challenge like he had overcome all others.
I will find a suitable place to build a new home, to protect the Eldunarí, and to raise the dragons. I will create a new order of Riders, more powerful and prosperous than the last. And then…then I will come back for you, Arya. I swear it.
Above, Saphira roared her approval.
The wind pushed at Arya's face and caused her hair to whip back and forth as she flew with Fírnen away from the Talíta…away from him. She looked backwards to catch a glimpse of the ship, but something silver sparkled in the air and caught her attention. Water? Surprised, she touched her fingers to her face, noticing for the first time that it was covered in tears – tears that she didn't know she had been holding back.
Arya was suddenly struck by the urge to release a cry, similar to that of Roran's, but she restrained herself. There was no need to burden Eragon with the extent of her pain. She didn't even know why his leaving hurt her so much. The pain of losing someone dear to her should be familiar by now. Seeing Fäolin die in front of her caused her heart to sink in despair. Hearing the news that her mother had fallen in battle struck her like a blow from a hammer. But watching Eragon leave, and refusing his request to accompany him, awoke a pain in her chest that she was unaccustomed to feeling. It twisted and squeezed, showing no signs of relenting.
Eragon was a dear friend, someone she had fought beside numerous times. She knew the depth of his feelings towards her, but did she reciprocate them? No one else had ever shown her such steadfast devotion, even though she had rebuffed his advances several times. He was still so young compared to her, but he had occasionally shown great wisdom in his words and his actions.
What's more, they had shared their true names – the sign of absolute trust. When Eragon offered to give his, Arya was shocked. Shocked beyond belief, but also strangely pleased. She never would have imagined that he trusted her to that extent. The revelation caused her to reevaluate her opinion of him, and after some consideration, decide to share her true name as well. It was a bold move on her part – something that she would have never done with anyone before – but she did not regret it.
And yet, she was afraid. Arya was still afraid that she might love this young Rider. She was afraid that they were too different. She was afraid that he would one day change his mind. She was afraid of how their relationship could impact the rest of Alagaësia. Her fears gave her a sense of vulnerability, which was not a feeling that she enjoyed.
In the end, Arya couldn't confront her fears or her true feelings, as tumultuous as they were. And now, it was too late. He was leaving and she was bound by her duty as the queen. She may never see him again.
Once again, she felt a stab of pain in her chest, causing a dull ache to spread through her. Arya could feel Fírnen's pain amplify her own as they alit on the bank where Roran stood. By then, her tears had receded, but she could still see them flowing out of Roran's eyes and trickling into his beard. Arya climbed out of the saddle and stood beside Fírnen, placing a hand upon his leg. Together, the three of them watched until the white ship sailed to the edge of the horizon. And even when it disappeared from view, none of them moved.
Roran was the first to speak. He dragged a hand across his face wearily and said, "I guess that's it then."
Arya didn't answer, too occupied in her own thoughts. Still, she could feel Roran's curiously intense gaze upon her. Arya looked at him in askance.
Several moments passed before Roran said anything. As if the words were hard for him to get out, he eventually asked, "Did you love him?"
The question startled Arya slightly. She was well aware that humans were much more direct in their speech – Roran especially so – but she still didn't expect this. "Why do you ask?" she said, careful to mask her emotions with an impassive face and a neutral tone.
Roran, however, betrayed some of his unease by shifting in place. "A while ago, Eragon confessed to me that he was in love with you. He also said that you rejected his suit, but I couldn't help but notice that you two seemed…close. I was just curious, I suppose."
"My feelings towards Eragon are not something I am willing to share with others." Neither of them moved or shifted their gaze. "But," Arya added softly, "I cannot blame you for wondering." Arya looked to the point in the distance where the ship had vanished, and against her better judgment, said, "Eragon is very dear to me; he is the one person I trust most of all in this world." Firnen released a brief puff of smoke. "Except for Fírnen, of course," she amended. "I had wished that we could perhaps become something more over time, but we each have our duties and what cannot be, shall not be."
Roran snorted. "It seems to me that you share his feelings, at least in part. And I understand your reasons, even if I don't agree with them. All I know is that something as small as that would never keep me away from Katrina."
Arya's eyes flashed angrily for a moment before she calmed herself once again. "Do not presume to think that being the ruler of the elves or the leader of the Riders is a small task."
"Of course not," Roran said. "I'm just of the opinion that love can, and should, overcome all boundaries."
Smiling sadly, Arya replied, "If only that was true for all of us, Roran Stronghammer."
Beside her, Firnen hummed softly. To both Arya and Roran, he said in his deep voice, Do not despair, Arya. I hold the same opinion as the two-legs-Roran; there are many long years ahead of us, so surely we will see them again.
If he was surprised by the interjection, Roran did not show it. Instead, he smiled and said, "That's right. If Eragon is anything like me, there is no chance that he would give up on you."
"Perhaps." They were silent for a few more moments before Arya finally said, "In any case, we should be off. I am sure that you must be eager to reunite with Katrina, and continue on to Palancar Valley."
"That I am." Roran waited until Fírnen crouched low enough for him reach his back before carefully making his way onto the saddle.
Arya cast one more glance to the river, hoping to glimpse a white sail, or a sparkle of blue scales. Not seeing either, she released a small sigh and nimbly leapt onto Fírnen's back, taking her place in front of Roran. To herself, she thought, Eragon…it seems that there are unresolved feelings between us. Perhaps I should have given you a chance before it was too late. Now, I can only hope that Fírnen and Roran are right – that you will return to Alagaësia someday.
With a flurry of flapping wings, Fírnen took off, leaving behind the silver winding river, the barren plains, and the lonely shore.
A/N: And so my continuance of Inheritance begins! After rereading the series, and being put through as much pain as the first time around, I've decided to write a fanfic that I'll actually develop and hopefully finish this time. This chapter is more of a prologue, as it takes place just after the actual ending of Inheritance. The rest of the story will take place around one hundred years later. If it wasn't obvious, my main goal is to finally get Eragon and Arya together after the incredibly disappointing ending Paolini wrote. However, other characters will be making appearances (so long as they're alive), as well as some of my own original characters.
If you have some time, I would greatly appreciate any reviews. Fixing grammatical or spelling mistakes, input on future characters and plot lines, whether you like or hate it...any little thing is welcome(excepting flames, of course)!