Hello! So, you know how Gertrude says in the first book of the Inheritance Cycle, that she was running back and forth, checking on both Eragon's and Garrow's fevers? I always wondered why everyone was with Garrow, and Eragon was supposedly left alone with a high fever and infection that threatened his life. ….Well then. So, here's what I think went down when Eragon had that high fever and injury after bringing Garrow to Gertrude. This is over the span of five days, just so I can put lots and lots of Eragon and Roran fluff! THIS IS NOT YAOI. I DO NOT SHIP ERAGON AND RORAN, THIS IS ONLY COUSIN FLUFF. Got it? Okay! Tenjoy!
Roran never got the job at Horsts'. He declined it. He was in the Spine, but far away from Eragon and Saphira.
Roran was sitting at his fathers bedside, looking worriedly at his face. He was brought in just before, and Eragon was rushed to Gertrude's house after collapsing from a high fever. Sure, he was worried about his cousin, but, this was his father. Eragon could wait. Rorans gaze strayed to his fathers arm, where a chalky white burn resided. Roran had no idea where it came from, damn knowing what it was, but Eragon had whispered something like Ra'Zac while collapsing. Brom had then picked him up like a parent a child, and carried him swiftly to Gertrude's house.
"Roran?" Roran jumped. He turned around quickly, only to find Elaine and Katrina staring shyly into the room. Roran stood up.
"Yes?"
"Gertrude called. She said… She said Eragon was calling your name." Katrina said. Roran sighed. He felt torn. Eragon, or Garrow? Garrow was his father, but Eragon was his childhood playmate. Roran shook his head, deciding.
"Eragon can wait."
"No, he can't. He has an abnormally high fever for collapsing of exhaustion, and he has an infection. Please, Roran, go to your cousin. Gertrude will be here, along with Elaine and I. Garrow is a strong man, Roran." Katrina calmly announced, walking to Roran and clasping his hand in a desperate plea. Roran sighed.
"Fine. But if anything happens to father, tell me right away."
"I promise, Roran." Katrina whispered, gently pushing him out of the door.
As he walked into the street, he saw Gertrude walking briskly into the street, going the opposite direction of Roran. She looked up, smirking as she saw Roran.
"Good. Did you come to see Eragon?" Roran nodded, his gaze now at the open door, and then what Gertrude had in her hands. A needle and thread? What? She noticed his gaze. "Eragon was a bit torn up," she said, stuffing the needle and thread into her pocket. "His legs were torn, especially on his thighs. They might get infected, but hopefully I got to the problem. Now, if his forehead is too hot to touch, get a towel and cold, repeat after me, cold water and place it on his forehead. Get that?" She ended in her bossy voice. Roran nodded once more. Gertrude nodded also.
"What are we waiting for? Go!" She said, walking toward where Garrow resided. Roran stood for a minute, blinking slowly. He started out of his trance, then walked into Gertrude's house, closing the door. Eragon was lying asleep on a bed, a single blanket draped over his torso and legs. He was muttering illegible words, and shifting and squirming. Roran walked over and placed his hand on Eragons' head. He yelped, pulling back his hand from his cousins' feverish skin. Eragon whimpered, his voice cracking as he whispered,
"R-Roran?"
"Hey, cousin." Roran said, placing a cold cloth on Eragons' forehead. Eragon flinched.
"T-Too c-cold…"
"Well, when you over exert yourself and get hurt, expect to have a cold cloth. It's not going anywhere." Roran dead panned. He still felt bad for Eragon, though. His brown hair was mussed, and his skin was flushed a cherry red. His breathing sounded bad. Really bad.
"Eragon?"
No response.
"Eragon?"
No response.
"Eragon! Wake up!"
"Mmph…"
"Good, you aren't dead."
"G-Garrow…" Rorans heart stopped. How was he going to tell this to his cousin? His sensitive cousin? A memory flitted into Rorans head.
"Catch me, Roran!"
"Alright, but don't fall…"
"Just catch me! I won't fall!" Eragon, now ten years younger, prepared to launch himself out of a tree. Roran, also ten years younger, watched, giggling nervously. Eragon could fall… He could break something… He could DIE… Stop it! Eragon's big! He can jump and not hurt himself! Stop worrying, Roran!
"Roran! Catch me!"
"Ok, jump on one, two, three!" Eragon jumped out of the tree fearlessly, Roran holding his arms out to catch him. Eragon landed safely in Rorans arms, his grin splitting his face.
"Again! Again!"
"Oh, alright." Eragon scrambled into the tree again, preparing to leap, when a sudden breeze threw him off balance. He fell, screaming.
"Dad! Mom!" Cried Roran, as he ran to the crumpled figure of his cousin.
"Eragon?" He whispered, his mind whirling.
"Uncle G-Garrow? Aunt M-Mirian?" Eragon muttered, his eyes opening. His eyes were filled with tears, his bottom lip started to tremble.
"I didn't jump… I was supposed to jump…"
"Are you hurt?"
"No, just angry that I didn't jump right." Eragon pouted, trying to get up from Roran's grip.
"Thank goodness you're ok!"
"Mph…"
Roran chuckled dryly at the memory, sitting by Eragon as he fell asleep. His own eyelids felt heavy, and he laid his head on his arm, letting sleep take him.
AND CUT! Woo! I know I should probably update my other stories, /cough Alagaësia High School cough/ but I just needed to write some Eragon and Roran fluff. Thank you all for waiting for Alagaësia High! I am writing the third chapter right now, so… Maybe on Sunday? Who knows.
BYE BYE! See ya next chapter!