Summary: An oneshot about Arya and Faölin; the summer solstice he made her the flower.
Disclaimer: If I was Christopher Paolini, I wouldn't be writing FANFICS. I would be writing the third Inheritance book.
Arya was seated the forest floor, surrounded by flowers. Her long black hair was loose, and tumbled around her shoulders. She sat with her face uplifted, eyes closed, to catch a stream of sunlight.
"Pondering the world again, Arya?" a clear voice called. She opened her eyes, and said in a soft voice, "Faölin, how is it you always seem to find me?"
"You're so predictable," he laughed. He seated himself next to her, and touched two fingers to his lips.
"Atra esterní ono thelduin."
She mimicked the gesture, and replied, "Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr."
"So, really Arya, what are you pondering?"
She sighed. There was really no easy way to do this. "Whether I am going to be the dragon-egg courier."
His eyes widened. "Really, Arya?"
She gazed at him. "Yes, really."
He looked away, lost in thought. She leaned against his shoulder, and resumed her meditation. So they remained for several hours.
"Arya?"
"Hmm?"
"I know what is in your heart. Sé mor'ranr ono finna. I wish you luck," he said, and touched her hair.
She turned her eyes up to his. "I will need…company…on the journey. Would you?"
His face lit up briefly. "Wiol ono, Arya Dröttningu. Wiol ono."
"My thanks, Faölin-finiarel."
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Arya returned to her chamber as the sun set. On her bedside table, she found a single vine of morning glory, with three blossoms. A note was laid by the vine. She looked closely at it.
For you, Arya, as a token of my love. To release the blossoms, simply say, "Open."
Faölin.
She said it, and the blooms opened to reveal dark blue throats, fading into a sable corolla. She smiled on it. They were the most beautiful flower she had seen.
Wiol ono, Arya. Wiol ono.
A/N: Okay, first Inheritance fanfic. I hope you guys like it. For those of you without a copy of Eldest handy, here are the meanings of the phrases:
Atra esterní ono thelduin/Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr: May good fortune rule over you/Peace live in your heart.
Sé mor'ranr ono finna: May you find peace.
Wiol ono: For you.
Finiarel: an honorific for a young man of great promise.
Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass! Atra guliä un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse sköliro fra rauthr.
(May your swords stay sharp! May luck and happiness follow you and may you be shielded from misfortune.)
Achaya