Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot of the story. Otherwise, this would not be a Fan-fiction. Or a kind of writing that is soulfully mine. Nor yours.
Chapter 1: The Festival and a Friend
...I see mighty powers of this land struggling to control your will and destiny. Countless possible futures await you-all of them filled with blood and conflict-but only one will bring you happiness and peace.
Eragon awoke the next morning to a ray of sunlight in his eyes. He slowly got up, and checked the bed for Arya. It was made clean and orderly. Eragon slipped on his tunic and trousers before strapping on the Belt of Beloth the Wise with Brisingr, his sapphire sword, inside its sapphire scabbard.
Eragon went downstairs into the hall with elves bringing the traditional greetings. As he exited out of the Tialdarí Hall, he noticed a gathering of elves around the Menoa Tree.
As Eragon neared, he saw Queen Islanzadí in her swan feather cape, and Arya by her side. He gasped as he saw Arya in her exquisite selection of clothing. She wore a light-green blouse with frizzled lace at the neck area and shoulder openings. Translucent green-tinted sleeves covered her arms. A free falling dress the same color of her blouse covered her legs. A diamond encrusted tiara rested on her head. Eragon found it hard to believe that this was the same person that he had been traveling with since he rescued her in Gil'ead. Eragon could only stare in awe at the princess.
The two walked amongst the elves, chatting away with nobles, and the adviser, Lord Däthedr. The merry expressions on their faces were devoid of anger or worry. It warmed Eragon that things were more peaceful than during Galbatorix's reign.
Eragon approached the crowd, finding that most of them had a sword strapped to their waists. They must be the ones also going to succeed Evandar, Eragon thought. After wandering around the gathering and picking up a goblet of faelnirv, he saw Vanír amongst the crowd. He stuck out because of the sparring they had done, and because of the tight splint on his arm. It appears he hasn't been fully healed yet.
Eragon walked over to Vanír, who was speaking to another elf. When Vanír caught sight of Eragon, he dismissed the other elf, who walked away briskly. Vanír then turned and faced Eragon, starting with the elven traditions. After the exchange of greetings, Vanír put his goblet, supposedly filled with faelnirv, in his right hand and clapped Eragon on the shoulder. "Eragon! How good is it to see you again."
"Same, Vanír," Eragon said, smiling. "How's your arm?"
Vanír sighed. "It appears..." Vanír took a sip from his goblet. "...that the healing of nature hasn't fully recovered my arm. If it did, I'd be happy to give you a good squeeze, but it isn't fully. I hope it will be better by the duels we have later in the day.
"So! I hear that you did a good job putting a sword in ol' Galby's heart, eh? Overpowered him with the sword after depriving him of the Eldunarí? So, you gonna take it up as king? Or will you let someone else do it?"
Eragon lowered his head. "As I told Nasuada before, Alagäesia does not need another tyrant king. I can't be king, let alone even say a few words to a handful of people."
"Then who?"
"I don't aim for some title, as well as that... I couldn't even kill Galbatorix alone. I had the help of a werecat, my cousin, Arya, and all the Varden. If I could recall, I had you take on Galbatorix's personal guard, right?"
"Yep, and I did a good job on it too. None of them escaped my 'left-handed fury.'" The two laughed until Vanír coughed and took another sip of his faelnirv. After the drink, Vanír sighed.
"What's wrong?" Eragon dared ask.
Vanír shook his head. "Nothing seemed right when Oromis-elda died. Things started going haywire, and even the queen lost her temper more than usual. Except, to be replaced by sheer happiness when news of Galbatorix's death reached her."
"That is true," Eragon agreed. "Things also went wrong with me when Brom was gone. I didn't even know the slightest that Brom was my father. It still bothers me that I didn't even know that and I had believed that I was Morzan's son instead. And to think that being called Son on None when everyone actually hated my father. Then, my actual father was a Rider and founder of the Varden.
"Now that Oromis is gone, I don't think what I would do. I was unable to give him a proper burial as Saphira and I did Brom."
Vanír put his good hand on Eragon's shoulder. "Brom died while in your reach. Oromis died when you were leagues away. It is not so shameful. Your father is more important than the best teacher in the world, because he loves you unconditionally. Oromis might have broken and just cast you away when you were still struggling on your ninth word of death."
Eragon gave a slight smile. "I guess... Thank you Vanír."
"May the best man win?" Vanír put up his good hand.
Eragon smiled. "Aye. Let us play fair and with all determination." He grasped Vanír's hand.
A few minutes later, the party became to unbearable to Eragon, and resorted to bringing a goblet of faelnirv for Saphira. The massive dragon swallowed the contents in one gulp, shuddering as the cool liquid seared her throat. A jet of flame exited her nostrils.
Did I ever tell you about sneezing? Eragon asked.
Oops. The mead tickles. Saphira snorted.
You said that when we were at the Varden nearly a year ago. Still you forgot.
So sorry. The mead tickles.
Rider and Dragon watched the party as several elves communicated, some sparring, and one of them talking to a deer. Are you going to fly or not? Saphira asked.
I guess that is okay. The horn will blow when it is ready for the first session.
Which is?
Sparring, Eragon smiled.
With a quick leap, Eragon seated himself on Saphira's back, the saddle already prepared. After securing his feet, he wrapped the straps around his wrists and tugged. At that movement, Saphira soared into the sky with five or so elves singing after her: "Fly well, Bjartskular!"
Eragon smiled as he felt the gusts of wind in his face. It was almost like swimming, but with more freedom. Saphira soared above the clouds, outstretching her wings as she neared them. They hovered there for a moment, when Saphira turned her head and soared after something.
Something red, Saphira explained.
Thorn? Eragon asked.
Maybe. I'm still not sure.
The red object flew fast and then dipped out of the clouds toward the land below. Saphira gave pursuit and landed in a clearing, where the red dragon had landed in not very far away. A man dressed in black with a hood was visible as he jumped down the side of the dragon. A sword's pommel was on his waist, the ruby shining on it with immense power.
Eragon jumped off of Saphira, telling her to stay, and started to walk towards the man with a hand on Brisingr. "Who are you?" Eragon asked when the man was no more than twenty feet away. The man gave no answer, but instead raised his hood and stared at Eragon. Brown hair. Fierce eyes. A serious face. A scar that ran from the right side of his face to the lower part of it.
"Murtagh," Eragon whispered. Saphira growled from behind him. "What brings you here, Murtagh?"
Murtagh smiled. To Eragon's surprise, it was not one of the smiles he had seen during when they had crossed blades, but one of when they had traveled together, nearly half-a year ago. "To witness the coming of the new elven king. Is it not possible since you are missing a Rider?"
"Why would you want to witness it?"
"I have as much right as you do."
"Who says?"
Murtagh merely lifted a lock of hair off the side of his head, showing his slightly pointed ears. "I still may be human, but being a Rider transformed me. Surely I don't have your strength: the elves took what was left of Galbatorix's Eldunarí storage, but I am still Rider in full."
"You have no sense to kill me now?"
"I have no sense to chop off your right hand?" Murtagh smiled again. "Besides, now that Galbatorix is dead, there is no reason other than to witness the coming of the Green Dragon and its Rider, as well as the crowning of the new Elven king."
Saphira stopped her snarling and slowly walked toward Thorn. The two looked at each other with compassion, as when they had met one year ago, before they met at the gates of Uru'baen.
In the distance, a horn sounded. Eragon ran up to Saphira and strapped himself in. "If you wish to come, then follow me! I take place in the ceremony, and I do not wish to be late for sparring!"
Murtagh smiled again and mounted on Thorn. With a roar, the two dragons rose into the air, returning to Ellésmera.
The elves were stunned with the arrival of Murtagh. Morzan's son... had stepped into their most secret haven. Some elves instinctively put a hand on their swords, but Eragon cried out, "Wait!"
Everyone was looking at him now. Steely gazes fixed upon the two Riders. "He doesn't wish to do the bidding of Galbatorix anymore. He just wishes to be the guest who..." Eragon stopped as Arya walked from the raised podium. "Arya?" Murtagh asked cautiously.
"Will you still allow no one to gain access to your mind?" the princess asked.
Murtagh knelt. "I am sorry, I still do not wish to allow anyone but myself and Thorn into my mind. It is the only one sanctuary I have not given up yet. But I shall give you my word, as a Rider, that I shall not harm anyone or anything in Ellésmera, unless if the perpetrator threatens to take the life of you or Queen Islanzadí." Murtagh then swore in the Ancient Language.
"Then you may stay." Arya returned to her mother's side.
Murtagh looked over to Eragon. "When shall it..." but Murtagh was cut off by another blast of the elven horn.
"The festival shall begin now!" Islanzadí called with a somewhat magnified voice. "Today is the day where we start the crowning of our king for the elves. We start with announcing the names..." Eragon steadily made his way of the line of elves that was amassing before Islanzadí and Arya, where Arya smiled as Eragon passed. He gave a quick smile before making his way to the front of the line.
Sparring... Eragon thought. Surely no way to cheat is possible. Only when it comes to battering each others' mind is the way for a dragon to butt in... at least I had to tell Saphira to not help me with the mind test.
The elves dispersed into the sparring rings. Eragon, unsure what had happened, walked to a ring where only one elf was standing. The elf had long silver hair that stopped at his shoulders. He was an inch or so shorter than Eragon.
The sword in the elf's hand was a straight steel sword, measuring about a yard long. He held the sword in a stance, where his arms crossed each other as he held the blade in both hands. Flashing back to how he started the duel with Galbatorix, Eragon held Brisingr with his right hand and put his left hand in front of him. The elf seemed puzzled at his stance, but steeled his eyes on Eragon.
The elf pounced on Eragon, jumping toward him and easily covering the distance set between them. Eragon easily sidestepped the blow, then brought Brisingr on the elf. The elf blocked the blow, his arm going limp for a second. Bared teeth glistened in his mouth.
The elf started to hack and slash at Eragon, taking any and every opening he could find, which stunned Eragon. His mind became all defensive, blocking every seemingly ferocious attack with ease.
After a few minutes of parrying, Eragon ducked, slipped Brisingr down the length of the elf's sword, and twisted, wrenching the sword from the elf's hand; just as Vanír had disarmed him at their first spar. The sword landed point-first in the ground nearly twenty feet away. The elf knelt as Eragon lifted Brisingr toward the elf's chin. "I submit."
Eragon bowed as he returned Brisingr to the sheath on the Belt. He scouted around for Vanír, whom was found seated on a log not so far away. His narrow elven blade was rested on his shoulder, tip pointing upwards. The splint on his right arm was gone.
"So..." Vanír said with a grin, "How fared our wondrous Rider in his match?"
"I did fine," Eragon replied. He seated himself next to Vanír on the log. "You?"
"He was basically punished."
Eragon nodded his head. "Your arm is better?"
"It still aches a bit," Vanír said, "but the bone is whole once again. It sort of helps me to think I may not be defeated by you again."
"That is good." Eragon looked up and smiled.
A figure sidled next to Eragon, whom he found Murtagh, a grin stretched on his face. Maybe his True Name has changed, Eragon thought. He grins like a dwarf who had just drank too much mead.
"I saw you sparring with that elf," Murtagh said. "Excellent swordplay, I guess."
"You're not the only one who had gotten more skilled with a blade."
"True, true. Apparently, some elves hadn't finished with their match yet. Would you care to take this time to spar with me? I want to make sure I didn't forget many of the skills I learned."
Eragon grinned. "Whatever you say, half-brother."
Murtagh was puzzled. "Our father is Morzan."
"My father is Brom."
Murtagh sighed. "Well, that's new information to me. Shall we cross swords?" Murtagh drew Zar'roc, while Eragon drew Brisingr. "Why not?" Eragon replied. "Let's go."
The two half-brothers walked to an empty sparring ground, and faced each other with their opening stances. They waited a moment before they jumped at each other, blades clashing in midair, and showering the ground with sparks. Both landed at the same time, then Murtagh spun around and ran toward Eragon, hold Zar'roc like a spear. Eragon blocked the attack with the flat of Brisingr's blade, which caused Zar'roc to surge onwards and be upright.
In that second, Eragon twirled Brisingr, locking Zar'roc beneath. A vein pulsed in Murtagh's temple as he struggled to bring Zar'roc back up. With another shower of sparks, the swords grazed each other, then being parallel with each other, their owners sliding back a few feet.
By that time, a gathering of elves had piled around the ring, watching sparks fly as Murtagh and Eragon danced, swords crossed. Islanzadí and Arya came to watch the duel, wondering why so many elves were assembled around a dueling ring.
Then in unison, Murtagh and Eragon swung their blades with increased ferocity, both being projected backwards, then veered around, a cloud of dust obscuring vision. When the dust settled, Eragon held Brisingr in his outstretched right hand, the tip of it touching Murtagh's chin.
Likewise, Zar'roc was in Murtagh's right hand, but it rested on Eragon's neck. Eragon and Murtagh smiled after a second before bursting out laughing, the swords being sheathed, and the elves crying out in applause. The two half-brothers walked to each other, patting each other on the back and complimenting each others' moves.
This is how life should have been, Eragon thought, No worries, no pain, just the enjoyment of competition. I should still be at home, crossing pokers with Roran.
When Eragon walked near Arya, the elf-princess put a shoulder on him and asked Murtagh if she could speak a few words to him. Murtagh appeared surprised, but he left Eragon to speak with the princess. Islanzadí's narrowed as if they sensed deception, but she allowed her daughter to go.
Eragon and Arya walked amongst the grass, to some unknown place. They left the shelter of the Menoa Tree, then to the place Eragon barely recognized: Arya's secret area. Arya stopped, then; without the watching of the elves (as well as to Eragon's surprise) pecked his mouth.
"Is this me?" Eragon asked, "or are you expressing more of yourself to me with each passing hour? I don't intend to be angry, but it is just that you never acted this way before."
Arya sighed, her emerald eyes downcast. "Now that Galbatorix is dead, I no longer have to assume to the once omnipresent duties I once had. Are you not satisfied?"
Eragon stiffened, then regained his posture. Something seems wrong should she say 'satisfied.' Seduction?
I am not sure, Saphira answered. She did act strange when she awoke last night.
Maybe... Eragon concluded. She probably needs something... or someone, to help her progress through Islanzadí's request to rule the elves.
"Yes," Eragon said, "but, you never have acted this way, ever. It seems strange to me that you would be..." He was stopped by another kiss. Eragon pulled away, thundering, "Will you please stop doing that? I would love it if I was crowned king, then I'd be happy for you to shower me in kisses, but this is starting to drive me insane!" Eragon sat on the log and sighed.
"Sorry," was Arya's curt reply. "I shall wait then."
Eragon sighed again. "Foolishness drives us apart. Infatuation should remain infatuation no more. The only thing I ask is please stop being reckless. I have refrained of complementing how good your wear is with your eyes, so it would be nice to have you stop kissing me whenever unnecessary."
"That is fine," Arya said. "You just complemented on how my dress looks on me."
"I did?"
"Yes."
"Hmm, I guess two spars in a row really clouded my mind. Speaking of which, my arm hurts."
"Do you require healing?"
"No, it is fine. Nothing time can't help."
The two sat in complete silence until Eragon got up and said, "I think I should return to my tree."
"May I come?" Arya asked.
"Yes, but I think I would more likely fall asleep than resume conversing. I am sorry if I was being rude."
"Not at all."
Eragon left the scent of crushed pine needles toward the civilization of Ellésmera. When he approached his tree, Murtagh sat at the steps, twiddling his thumbs. "Glad you made it back" was the reply from Murtagh as Eragon approached. "I heard from Saphira that Arya is acting weird. Care to tell me what happened between you two?"
Eragon shook his head. He didn't feel like revealing the mutual attraction between them. I hope I can speak to Brom. He did tell me that instead of raising the dead, perhaps I can speak with the dead? Unlike in the dream, because I felt awake. Maybe... speaking to the dead shouldn't be too taxing on my body. I think I shall try it later...
I think you should consult Glaedr-ebrithil, Saphira replied from the side of the tree house. He should know of communication with the dead.
I think I shall speak with him tomorrow, or when I wake up. Eragon trudged through the door and made his way up the stairs. He unbuckled the Belt of Beloth the Wise, transferring what energy he still had in him, and before long, Eragon was asleep.
As this is a first Eragon FF, be sure to spot any errors, or report them via review. Please no flames. Constructive criticism is accepted.
