A/N So I was really bored during study hall the past few weeks, and had just finished reading Eldest, so I wrote some really crappy one-shots about it all...so I'm posting my crappy one-shots here. Hope you like them, or if you don't, you tell me you like them anyway. :)
The Menoa Tree
Watching the elves dance around the glade, Eragon sighed. Even after Agaetí Blödhren, he could never hope to match the elves' grace at dancing. Orik sat down next to him. "Eragon, miz boi, I thinks it be time for youz to ask miz Arya to go dancing" he slurred, his voice stumbling as a result of mead he'd drunken.
"No Orik" Eragon patiently said, for he'd explained this to Orik many times while he'd been drunk. "I am being respectful of her wishes, even though they are not my wishes, in hope that she will realize some day that our ages do not matter."
"Sure, zure, butt itsn't time for some dayz to become 'oday?" With that, Orik fell over backward, snoring loudly. Eragon contemplated his confusing words, then stood up. He'd seen Arya heading toward the Menoa tree…maybe tonight was the night. If not, he could always blame it on the atmosphere from Agǽta Crïsta.
eEe
"Hello Arya" Eragon said when he caught up with her under the branches of the Menoa tree. She turned, and he saw her sigh. She prepared to start running away, and Eragon reached out and grabbed her. "Arya, I'm not really here to ask for your love, just for your respect back…and if possible, for your love."
"No Eragon" Arya coldly replied. "I've told you how I feel on this subject, and you would do well to respect my wishes on this matter."
"No, Arya, at least listen to my plea: please? I need you by my side to help defeat Galbatorix. You, Saphira, Roran, and Oromis are the only ones I feel I can trust anymore. Saphira has no choice about whether she fights with me. Roran can help fight, but he doesn't have the strength to fight Galbatorix, or Murtagah now, for that matter. Oromis could help, but he and Glaedr have determined that they do not wish to fight anymore, just teach future, if any, dragon riders. That leaves you. Please?" Eragon beseeched.
Arya considered him, then turned her head away. NO! I must make a better plea! Eragon thought to himself. "If you help me, I'll stop attempting to pursue you, even under the strange circumstances of Agaetí Blödhren and Agǽta Crïsta and any other celebrations that I don't know about. I swear it by my life, and by Saphira's."
"I'm not sure if I trust you, but…"
"Arya, if I had a blade, I'd swear by it, but seeing as I no longer have Zar'roc, I must swear instead by my life and the life of my dragon."
"I was going to say, yes, Eragon, I do accept your plea." The ground beneath them shook, and they began coughing as a layer of dust flew up from a crack that had just appeared. Arya looked at Eragon, bemused. "You no longer have to swear by your life." She motioned to the brilliant sapphire blade that had appeared in the crack. "I can only assume that this is to be yours."
Eraon grasped the blade, and marveled at its perfect balance. "So, do you want to get to work?" he asked Arya, taking a few experimental swings with the blade.
"Sure, let's go." So the two friends set off together, going to meet the enemies of their nightmares.
