Authors Note: Listen, chapters may or may not always come this fast put I promised I would post whenever time and imagination allowed it so here we are. This chapter was a challenging one for me, being as its one of my least fav POVs to write, but as many times as I tried to work around it my mind told me no…. Ugh inner battles. Here is a Roran Pov, for those who don't like them, know that it will help the story. My job as writer is to make you immersed in my tale soo…Do bear with me. With out further ado…LETS GET TOO IT!
theonewhobreathesfire: welcome, pleasure is all mine. Stick around
wacko12: As of present time, no.
R.F: your gunna have to stay tuned. Adventures and action will be exposed. I aim to not disappoint so may that be a soother to your anxiousness. It's all taken care of in my brain.
Chapter 4: Alternating News
"Land of grain and land of eagle, Land that gave me hope and blessing,
Hear Thy Song, ye hear thy words,
Land of true and land of Brave,
For ye of youth, and ye of elder, all say Hear to dine here after,
O' Land thy Land, so pure so thriving, we giveith Thanks for our Surviving,
Ye thanks ye thanks sir Mighty Rider,
Who's Name we sing and never tire"
The sun was preparing to rest and give life to the moon, and the people of Carvahall played their fiddles and sang loud and merrily as their season of harvest once again came upon them.
Roran listened as the villagers sang in synchronization; a few men at the bar swayed back and forth, arms over each others shoulders and sang along with the women, smiles on all of their faces. Carvahall was once again how as it used to be, filled with hard workers who knew how to be happy and proud of their land, a place of contentment, a place called home.
Roran folded his hands on top of the wooden table which he sat and looked down, his eyes tracing the lines within the makings of its texture. His mood was a quiet one, for he sat reminiscing upon the olden days, a time long before he knew of Galbatorix, a time when Garrow and Eragon would sit in this very Inn, laughing and Conversing with who ever was closest seated to them.
Roran let a silent chuckle escape his lips at the memory of Eragon, weaving jokes and all sorts of tall tales to entertain the villagers. Something he would always get in trouble for later. In their family lying was no laughing matter, it didn't matter if it was just for fun, and Garrow would promptly cuff Eragons ear whenever a similar event would surface. Alas, their attempts to persuade Eragon from his stories never availed, for he was of a believing spirit and always would lend his ears to Broms stories by the bone fire, his eyes practically sparkling with dreams and far off places. Eragon was truly always meant to be a rider, anyone could see he was different, that he was a dreamer, and they always knew that he would become a traveler someday, just not a traveler who arrives at his destination upon a Dragons back.
Even though this Eragon was grand, Roran had to admit he sometimes wondered what he would have become had he never found Saphira's egg. But Destiny had a way of sneaking up on a man and tripping him from under his feet, revealing things to him his dreams could never conjure up in the stars.
Roran took a sip of his cup and glanced inside at its wet contents, His outline dimly reflected back at him. I am not the same man I used to be. War certainly had its way in changing a man, revealing to him all of his faults and making you stronger if you realized them early enough. Coming out of this recent tyrant war, Roran found he had changed along with the rest of the world. Some still clung to the past, others proceeded into the new life with glee and joyfulness, while others, Like Roran, sought to cope with their newly opened eyes, and the death of their loved ones, like Garrow and so many others. War could show you the most horrendous of things, and no one walked away from Galbatorix's war unaffected. Roran did find some happiness in the nightmare that was Galbatorix though, Katrina was his lady love and their daughter was growing more and more radiant everyday. Yes, he had lost much in the war, enough to haunt any man till his dying day, but he had gained a lifetimes' worth of happiness and love here with Katrina, and it was as it should always be with her, a home.
"A little to much drink Stronghammer? My you look dazed! I believe when ones consuming becomes a quiet act, he should consider relenting, least he start spilling out his troubled thoughts and ending up in a scramble with a bloodied fist."
Roran looked up and saw the village potter, Bernan, standing before him with an amused grin. Roran shook his head and replied "nay, this is only my first. You know me Bernan, as well as my wife Katrina. You know she would have my head if I ever sought to dapple much with mead." Roran let his eyes run about the room before stating, "And besides I'd like to see some jolly bloke try his luck with me."
Bernan laughed and nodded "How very right you are My friend." then he shrugged and raised his own Pint to tap Rorans. As Roran went to offer the man a cheer for good measure, someone walked into the inn and said "Stronghammer, Lord Eragon has contacted you!"
Roran immediately stood and the whole room quieted down, all music and talking came to an absolute still and everyone looked from the boy to Roran. Roran looked upon the messenger, whose name he couldn't remember at the moment and hurriedly asked
"Where?" already coming back to himself and moving towards the door.
"Over at your house, Katrina sent me to fetch you, she says the Kingslayer must speak with you immediately." The boy replied, keeping pace with Roran as he jogged out of the inn and up the street.
They came to a stop when Rorans farm came into view. He turned to the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder, "My thanks. Now go and return to the festivities."
The boy ran back to the inn, the music had returned and the candles were just starting to be lit for night had befallen them.
Roran continued to run up to his house and proceeded up the stairs once he was inside. "Katrina! Tell him I am here!" He shouted as he skipped up the last four steps and grabbed a hold of the door frame, swinging into their room and skidding to a halt as he beheld Eragon and Aryas' images in the mirror. Eragon smiled at him and greeted Roran with a rising of a hand.
"Hello again Roran. I'm sorry I have simultaneously appeared in your mirror but I am in need of a word with you."
"Speak then brother." replied Roran, breathing heavily and stepping up beside Katrina, who sat on the bed.
Arya, Eragons wife, betook in his current standing and commented. "You may want to sit down. Our news is quite alternating and may come as a bit of a shock."
Roran frowned and was now severely confused but he stayed standing, "Just let me hear it." He said waving them off, he was a man he could take it. "What has happened?"
Eragon looked him in the eye and with a grin answered, "You must prepare for travel. You have been chosen as a candidate in the race for Kingship brother."
Not fully processing what Eragon was saying he replied, "kingship, Kingship over what?"
Aryas emerald eyes floated up to his face and she raised her eyebrow peculiarly, "Kingship over Alegasia, Roran Stronghammer."
He was sure he looked just as stunned as he felt. In fact his jaw probably could have dropped to the floor, man or not, this was a shock. Behind him he heard Katrina quickly intake a gasp and suddenly Rorans head was spinning. What in the name of -
"Hellfire." Roran managed to sputter out as he fell onto the bed in shock, his hands knocking with his knees.
"Yes I know." Said Eragon chuckling. "But Roran, we will need you to travel to Farthen Dur now to partake of the election. Just in case you're to be our future king." Roran was no fool and he swore he detected hope in Eragons words.
"How will I get there? I've never been there in my life nor heard of this city?" Katrina leaned against him and started robbing his arms, attempting to dull the goose bumps that were now all over his body. I am many things, but a king? surely not. Roran concluded.
Arya spoke this time, "We will have some guards sent to aid you that will know the way, do not fear. Also know that Eragon has been chosen as well to partake of the race. So we will be joining you in the Dwarves city."
Katrina gasped again, "Eragon you have been chosen as well! These people certainly pick popular war heroes." She began rubbing Rorans arms again and he chuckled at her.
"As it would seem Katrina. I know not of who the other contenders are but both Roran and I must appear for the decision." His face fell a little at the end and Roran cocked his head to the side.
"You do not wish to be king." He stated
Their eyes met and Eragon glanced towards Arya for a moment, she turned to him and took his hand within her small one, her face calm and serene. Eragon blinked and focused back on Roran.
"No I do not. But I must honor their Consideration and concede to their call. I am a Rider Roran and I do not wish to spend my life in political affairs. I wish to be free and serve the people with Saphira and Arya as a Rider would, not as a king."
Roran nodded and sighed, "This is unbelievable, us Kings?" He laughed and shook his head, looking at Katrina, he kissed her head and said "We certainly must attend this meeting though now matter how crazed it sounds. When should we expect out escorts Arya?"
"In three days time." She replied in her strangely accented tone. A sound indefinable to Roran was heard in the back ground and Arya and Eragon both turned around. Eragon faced them again and said "We must go, but give our regards to the village and Juliana."
Katrina smiled and said replied softly, "And give our love to Selena and Alamir and Saphira." Arya smiled and nodded, then the mirror went blank and their figures disappeared, leaving Roran and Katrina starring at their own reflections.
AUTHORS NOTE: SO there we have it. Roran pov concluded :). Sorry for the unusual shortness, i just couldn't get that into his povs like CP does, I'm not CP though of course.