1A/N: Okay, so, this chapter is like, kinda' really long. But I'm pretty proud of it. The first chapter is more like a 'what's going on' kind of thing, a 'right now in the story' deal, but this chapter, and the next one or two, are like flashbacks, what happened and how Katrina came to be where she is.
Chapter Two: Meetings
It was dark. That's the most she remembered
The cell was damp and dark, the stone walls sometimes dripped and it was impossible to tell if it were day or night. The thin sleeping mat was moth-eaten and smelled of mold. Katrina was grateful whenever a server came with food. Not for the stale bread and moldy cheese, but for the candle that would briefly illuminate the surroundings and grant her weary eyes the pleasure of color. From these few short moments, Katrina was able to take in her new living arrangements as a five foot by five foot stone cell, with a small hole in the center of the floor that served as a drain. It was obvious she was underground.
She could recall not how long she was there, but that it seemed an eternity. Often she cried out to the gods, begging them to deliver her from this nightmare, but other times she wept silently, for the fate of herself, and the fate of her beloved Roran.
One day, or night, it was impossible to tell, a man came to her cell, at first she was grateful for the sight of the lantern, but then it soon turned to fear as the man was not bearing food. Without a word he pulled her to her feet, not gently, and thrust her into the corridor, where she met another guard who grabbed her arm firmly and walked her through the corridor and up a stair.
Once reached the upward landing it was still impossible to tell weather it was day or night. These walls were also windowless stone and Katrina assumed they were still underground.
Torches lined the bare stone, in the center of the room sat a plain wooden table with two straight back chairs of the same wood. On the table were three lit candles, a bowl of fruit, a wine pitcher and two goblets.
What do they want? She wondered, fearful. But just then footsteps could be heard coming down the stairwell letting out on the wall opposite the small landing. When two black boots were visible on the stairwell, the two guards forced Katrina to her knees, keeping their hands on her tiny shoulders as they sunk into a bow themselves when the full of the man appeared.
"The prisoner, my lord," the one on Katrina's left came out of the bow.
"My King," the second guard acknowledged the man, also coming out of a bow. Both men seized Katrina's arms and thrust her to her feet.
The King was silent as he studied Katrina's tear stained face with hazel eyes. The title 'King' seemed appropriate for this man, as he looked kingly in every way. Slightly graying beard neatly trimmed, a golden circlet settled amongst thinning auburn hair. His clothing as grand has his boots, a white tunic tucked under a navy shirt, hose as blue as the cloak draped around broad, proud shoulders. Silver and gold rings with gems of every shape and color rested on large, worked fingers.
He then did something surprising, he made shallow bow to Katrina, as if she were a lady of his court rather than a prisoner. To Katrina, this was the definition of chivalry amongst the noblest of knights, but it frightened her. She knew he was teasing her, making fun of her now ragged clothing and her rank, matted hair.
"Milady?" The King gestured for her to sit at the wooden table. When she made to move to obey one of the guards shoved her forward, setting her staggering toward the table. The King moved behind her and offered her a chair, which she took with obvious reluctance. The King them moved to sit across from her and the guards positioned themselves, one at each exit.
Katrina stared blankly across the table, a tall candlestick slightly obscuring her view of the king.
"Lady Katrina of Carvahall," he started, "I am King Gallbatorix, as I'm sure you well know," he paused for a reply but when saw it was not coming he continued, "I called you here to discuss the recent events and on goings of the Empire."
Katrina knew this was far from the truth, but did not say so. She knew she was there as a prisoner, as a hostage from her beloved Roran. Beneath the table her hands, neatly folded in her lap, trembled, palms sweating, she was waiting for the King to get to the real point.
When she still did not indicate answering, Gallbatorix went on, "As you know, the Empire is at threat of war, from an opposing party wishing to overthrow my rule and replace their own. And as a subject of my kingdom I wish to grant you the opportunity to grasp power and help my effort." he paused again, staring at her intently, waiting for a reply.
A few times Katrina opened her mouth dryly, dumbfounded by his offer, but she finally managed to say, "Why me?"
He gave an inquiring look.
"Why?" she asked again, "Why me? I'm just a commoner from a small village, of no significance or importance. Why I?"
King Gallbatorix leaned forward in his chair, "because," he said, "you are a commoner from a small village, of no significance or importance."
It was her turn now the give an inquiring look.
"You would make a perfect representative for my Kingdom. By gaining your support, I could win over the trust of other common people. I could show all of Alagaäsía the real rule, of a great king!" he was getting excited now, the look in his watery eyes showed fierce determination, almost madness.
Nodding politely, Katrina thought, But what if I don't want to help you? But how do I refuse? I suppose I can't, can I? She sighed and continued to stare blankly. King Gallbatorix poured wine into both goblets and placed one in front of Katrina.
"I've been observing you, Katrina," the King settled back in his chair, "I've seen the fight you put up with my guards as they arrested you," it was true, she was able to hold her own for a while against the guards who had invaded Carvahall searching for Roran, she knew that some of them would see the scars for a very long time. The King continued, "You show promise, wisdom and strength above your years. That cell you were held in, at first it was a holding place, but it developed into a test. You've lasted several days with next to nothing to eat or drink, with very little sleep and no comfort. Yet you still didn't complain to the guards."
With his last sentence a small man with a large tray descended the stairs. He served the King first, with bread, cream, and roast. Next he served Katrina, but not forgetting her manners she waited for the King to say the prayer and begin the meal. To her surprise he did not recite the prayer, he thanked no one but filled his mouth with bread, gesturing to Katrina to begin her meal also. Cautiously, she picked up her fork and knife and cut at her meat. Slowly she ate, not daring to look at the king, but all the while he studied her. They sat in silence.
When his plate was clear, hers barely touched, the server came and cleared the table of their dishes. He then brought desert, two delicate pieces of cake, topped with sweet cream, whipped to a light cloud, dressed in fruit syrup. King Gallbatorix didn't move to touch his fork. Instead he stared across the table at Katrina, who did not return his gaze, she picked a spot on the floor to occupy her sight.
"You should eat," he said at last, "surely you must be very hungry. Weeks on limited rations, hardly even touching them. But when a real meal is set before you, you prove stronger than I imagine. Your self control is unbelievable, and with time, your physical strength can be even greater!" he stood suddenly, "Come," he said, making his way toward the ascending stairway, leaving his desert.
The guards came and pulled Katrina from her seat, pushing her to follow the King. Up the stairs they went, on the next landing was just another corridor with doors that appeared to be more holding cells. They then went up another flight into a long corridor, this time with no doors and few torches. On they walked in silence. King Gallbatorix several strides ahead of Katrina, the guards following close behind her.
On and on they walked, it seemed to Katrina the corridor would never end, but it did, with a plain wooden door with a brass knob and lock, surrounded by the plain stone walls. The King stopped and held his hand on the knob, but didn't turn it, instead he leaned toward the door and said something in a low voice Katrina could not make out. The door opened slowly.
Air got caught in her throat causing her to gasp. Through the plain wooden door was a grand chamber. Stone walls reaching farther up than the torch light would allow to be seen. As Gallbatorix stepped in his footsteps echoed through the vastness. Many torches illuminated the chamber, some mounted on pegs in the wall, others were pillars with bowls of burning oil set on top. There was one corner though, in the far other side, completely in darkness.
In the center of the large room sat a very plain wooden basket, large enough for Katrina to curl up and sit in. It was covered with a blanket of the finest silk, a deep purple color, embroidered in pure golden thread, runes Katrina did not recognize. Gallbatorix strode forward and stopped at the basket waiting for Katrina to catch up. Again the guards stayed at the entrance and observed.
When she was level with the King, Katrina looked more closely at the embroidered silk. In fact it wasn't runs at all, it was pictures. The pictures were of many things, but the most grandest of all was a golden dragon. The thread wove through the silk beautifully, depicting such detail as Katrina has never seen, she knew it must have been made with magic. Gallbatorix looked down on her, and as if he had read her mind he said, "I know it's beautiful, it was a gift from the elves when I was much younger. I suppose you know of the dragon riders?" she replied with a nod, he continued, "A long time ago, before the fall, they were a great group of people. Powerful! Strong! But weak willed!" he stopped, then said in a much lower voice, "But there is still hope, there are still dragons in Alagaësía, and with proper training and discipline they can rise once again to be even greater! They were ignorant, but in the generations ahead they can be wise. But they have to learn, they have to have a proper leader, and with your help, Katrina of Carvahall, I believe this can be achieved," with this last sentence he tore the silk cloth from the basket, revealing a single large stone, much like the one she had seen Eragon with in her fathers shop, but this one was of the most brilliant emerald. She soon realized that it was not a stone at all, but an egg, the egg of a dragon.
Katrina backed away, she stared at the King, flabbergasted, and frightened. She knew about King Gallbatorix, she knew the true evil of the Empire, but never in her life had she ever thought of being approached with such an offer, tears came to her eyes with surprise and confusion, she shook her head, refusing to look at the King.
'"I want you to stay here," said calmly, "stay with the egg. I'm giving you the chance to become a powerful rider, I believe this dragon will hatch for you, let us see if it does." with this he strode from the room, the guards following him, leaving Katrina there, trembling.
She collapsed on the floor, tears of fear and confusion poured down her cheeks. She sat next the basket, not bringing herself to look at it's contents.
Katrina had almost completely forgotten about the vast chamber with it's darkened corner until she had heard a rustling noise coming from within it's unseen depths. She gasped again, taken by surprise. She heard the noise again and looked toward the corner, when out stepped a man whom she had not seen before. He had dark hair and dark eyes that reflected the torchlight dully. He wore plain clothing, a black tunic tucked under a brown shirt with black hose and a leather belt, and attached to the belt was a hand-and-a-half sword.
Slowly he approached Katrina. Within his dull eyes she saw much pain, and compassion, she did not fear him, but she backed away anyway. When he was as close as she would let him get, he knelt on the ground and held out a friendly hand, "my name is Murtagh. Please, you have no reason the fret, I offer you friendship and advise." Katrina took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
She looked at the ground, "What kind of friendship do you offer? What advise can help me now? Tell me stranger, are you for the Empire? Or can you be trusted?"
He responded, "I am neither," to the look of confusion received from Katrina he went on, "I have sown to the Empire, but serve it unwillingly, the King is a tyrant. I can see in your eyes you do not desire to serve Gallbatorix, and in that area I can offer guidance. I know the secrets of the palace, you can escape, but you have to trust, and with this I offer friendship."
Thinking over his words, Katrina replied "How do I know you are not lying to me? It is easy to say these words, but what conviction do they have?" she looked up now, seeking an answer in his eyes.
"Every word I speak has conviction," his voice was calm, "I've seen the real horrors of the Empire, yet I cannot escape, I am bound by more than just my word. You have to hope that this egg," he pointed to the basket, "will not hatch for you."
With the last words another rustling came from the darkened corner, both Murtagh and Katrina let their gazes drop there. For the third time Katrina let a gasp escape her throat when she saw the creature that had stumbled from the darkness. It was a small, red as ruby, reptile. But more than that, it was a baby dragon. Murtagh went to it and with strong, gentle hands, picked it up and approached Katrina once more, "this is my dragon, Thorn."