Hey everyone, I had very much intended this to be a one-shot, but due to popular demand by a few reviewers I decided to continue. As you may notice there isn't really a plot behind this and if people are dying for more vaguely connected scenes (probably less so than these two are) please let me know. I hope my writing stands up to expectations and I haven't made the characters OOC. Now, on with the actually story…
Disclaimer: the usual stuff…
The reflection in the mirror gazed back at her. She stared unmoving, looking at her face in the early morning light from the side. The changes she saw from when she last gazed at herself in the mirror in Ellesmera would have been virtually unnoticeable to any other, but they were monumental to her. Already the weariness that had been a constant for centuries was lifted. She found herself recognizing the younger freer Arya that had once danced with her fellow elves. Though she had long ago forsaken that identity, parts of it were found in the light expression on her face.
So deep was she in thought, that she didn't see or feel his approach from behind her. She was startled when warm hands settled gently on her shoulders. She leaned back, settling her weight on him as his arms wrapped around her. Looking over her shoulder he too gazed at the reflection in the mirror. He was far from concerned by what he saw and let a smile grace his lips.
"Do you know the irony of you choosing this particular mirror?" he spoke softly, barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment. She quirked an eyebrow at his question, silently willing him to continue. He could not help but acquiesce.
"Out of all the mirrors in the house, or even solely in this room you chose this one." She glanced at the other mirrors dotting the same wall. All of them were much smaller with far less ornate frames or were completely frameless.
"I assumed that this was the one that you used for personal use, not scrying, as it is centrally located."
"That one is above the sink in the washroom, this is the mirror that is tied to yours in Ellesmera." He gave a small chuckle and rested his chin on the top of her head.
"Not mine any more, the knotted throne, and the mirror, now belong to Vanir."
"I am happy for Vanir, however I will always think of this mirror by the images of you it showed me." She turned in his arms, putting her back to the pane of glass they had been discussing. Content to just be held she didn't speak. After an immeasurable amount of time they separated briefly to ready themselves for the day. Hand in hand they walked down the winding path that led from Eragon's house on the cliff, down to the small city below.
"I could not help but notice that your yawë is gone…" he let the sentence hang, neither a statement nor a question.
"As I said before, I was no longer needed. Though this rarely happens, mine faded away on its own."
"Is that how you knew it was time to come?"
"Both yes and no, it had been fading for quite some time and I knew the moment was nearing, but it was not until I saw your faírth that I knew for certain. I dearly wish it did not have to be left behind in Ellesmera."
"That is of no consequence, I have another of the same here with me." Her brilliant smile in response brought warmth to Eragon's chest. He grinned back revealing in the knowledge that she was letting her guard drop and being far more open with him than during the war. They gradually slowed their pace as they approached the city, wanting to have as much time together as possible before being bombarded by the many introductions.
Though Arya had met all the riders as they passed through Ellesmera on the way to complete their training with Eragon, she had yet to see many of them as fully-fledged dragon riders awaiting their time to return to Alagaësia.
As they entered the city, she was amazed by the difference in appearance displayed by the riders. Though elves were immortal, they still showed their age. Eragon, Murtagh and herself were by far the eldest and yet they looked hardly a day older than they had during the war. The city seemed to be inhabited solely by the youth of the world.
The most senior riders were the first to greet her. After the intervening centuries since they had returned to assist Eragon, even the urgals and the dwarves features had begun to shift to that of an elf. It was a strange sight to see the slanted eyes and pointed ears that distinguished her race marking the features of the urgal. It had a softening effect that sharply contradicted the horns protruding from her forehead. Though she was not kull she stood well over Arya's head, opposite of the dwarf who was well below Arya's height.
After a brief conversation with the instructors, she exchanged greetings with the students. Finally free from the throng of people that had gathered, she and Eragon began to make their way back up to the grand house over looking the city. Without having to ask, Arya knew it was that size to accommodate Saphira and Fírnen as they grew to the massive bulk that had once characterized Gleadr. She was gratified to know that he had known that one day she would come, long before she had known herself.
Upon thinking of her partner of heart and mind, she reached out for his consciousness feeling suddenly the loneliness that accompanied separation. Through the connection with Eragon that had not been dropped since she arrived, she felt caution and a warning as she reached for Fírnen. As soon as she touched his mind she immediately regretted the action. She struggled to control herself before she tackled Eragon in the middle of the road.
The problem was not what Fírnen and Saphira were doing, it was that Fírnen almost considered a rider and dragon the same entity and as such his feelings for Saphira very nearly carried over to Eragon and exponentially increased her own emotions. After a moment she opened her eyes only to find Eragon standing in front of her chuckling to himself quietly. She leveled a glare at him while trying to ignore his proximity.
"Saphira was kind enough to warn me." She could hear his voice quivering with laughter.
Gritting her teeth, she grabbed his arm and gave him a light shove up the road. His laughter increased as he stumbled just a bit more than any elf ever would. Keeping her voice as calm as possible she responded, "Come, we have much to talk about, nor can we neglect your students forever." With that she gracefully marched away leaving Eragon to follow.
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