So I realized I only have about a week during which I can upload regularly before my dear lap top and I will be separated for a while. *tear* And I'm bored. This was shorter, anyway.
Eragon kept an eye out for this Raylena whenever he wandered around camp. Occasionally, in the morning, she pop up out of nowhere and scold him on his form during one of the Ringmar and then just fade away again. How did she even know what he was doing, and in such detail? And how could she sneak up on him like that?No one was able to sneak up on him like that. At least, not anymore...
Saphira's chuckle invaded his thoughts.
At least she amuses you, he grumbled to Saphira.
His dragon hummed absentmindedly, more focused on her hunt than her Rider. She is an interesting person.
What do you two find to talk about?
Girl things.
Ah. He frowned, not satisfied, and scuffed his boot in the dirt. Not only had he found Saphira spending more time with Raylena recently, but the Varden and King Orrin's men had not yet left Feinster. They had been camped out beyond the gates of the city for nearly two weeks now. Too long, in his opinion.
Eragon was getting restless. He wanted to move, to fight, even, which was unnatural for him, considering his own moral qualms. Still, a man grew tired after days and days of sitting around. There was nothing for him to do. He tried to find ways to help; he really did. But no one would let him do anything. He was too good to get his hands dirty. He was to be on his guard, prepared for anything should Murtagh make a sudden reappearance, unlikely as it was.
Murtagh. The name itself was bitter to him, even when unspoken. It held too much sorrow. Unfortunately, there was also compassion; it was the same compassion that had driven him to keep Sloan alive. Except now it was doubled, knowing that Murtagh was one of the three people he could truly call family. Perhaps it was a good thing, but it was also a burden. He was so burdened. It hurt having to balance everything and keep it sane.
Because everything revolves around you, now?
He glanced around, not sure where the thought had come from. It was familiar, so familiar... he turned around, and there she stood, as quiet as a mouse like always. And once again he hadn't heard her coming. On top of that, she could get into his mind!
That's because you become vulnerable when you over-think things. Saphira dived down, her sights set on a deer. Be polite, little one.
Rising, Eragon bowed slightly. "Good morning, Raylena."
"Eragon." She stared at him, eyes unblinking. Unnervingly unblinking. What had he done this time? Her stare was too hard, and he couldn't hold it.
"I'm sorry if I offended you the last we spoke." He dropped his gaze to his boots, the apology rising unbidden. Oh well. It was the least he could do... no need for another enemy. It would be better to placate her.
To his shock, her expression softened. "Think not of it."
They stood silently then, each lost in their own thoughts. Though it could have surprised them; they were both thinking of the same thing. However, only one of them really knew about it. And that was the issue; he wished to know, but she couldn't bring herself to tell. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
It was too quiet. Eragon cleared his throat and tried to get a better look at her face. She glanced up at him through her lashes, then turned her face away. "I must be off."
Eragon watched her abrupt retreat with bemusement. But as she changed her direction slightly, his gaze immediately went to her hair. It was tied back, away from her face, leaving her ears bare.
Unpointed.
Images and the smell of a slaughtered deer entered his mind as Saphira refocused on him. Does it matter? It just means she finds their clothing comfortable.
Which it is... How would she get it?. He studied her now, the shock of her rapid change of attitude once again surprising him. She was as unbalanced as a child, it seemed. Yet in her eyes there was the mischeivous maturity of Angela. She was a puzzle, that was sure.
Raylena shivered as she sidestepped a rut in the ground. Curious. Too curious. The Rider wouldn't settle unless he knew. Everything. He would want to know everything. She couldn't tell him- not yet. Maybe not ever. Strange... it was all so strange now. So different. Nothing like normal. It had been too long... too long. She couldn't think straight.
Melancholy now, she dropped her chin and watched her boots as she walked, stretching out her mind far enough to know where to place her feet in order not to run into anything. Sad. She had been missed. Might have been used. Would have. Was needed. She was needed... just like always. That was normal. Normal? Nothing was ever normal.
Someone greeted her, but she ignored him. Where was she going? She didn't bothering answering anyone. Couldn't they leave her alone? Alone. Normal. Used to being alone... it annoyed her when people interrupted her solitude. No patience for them. None left. It had all been used... she sighed and finally raised her head, blinking and taking in her surroundings.
The edge of the camp greeted her eyes, for nothing but green grasslands extended out beyond her. So wild and untamed... free. She was, but not completely. No, not completely.
Whoohoo. Crazy characters ftw.