A/N: Here we are again, a week later as promised! Special thanks again to my awesome Beta, MidnightRain6593 for her work on this chapter and all the others, wouldn't be possible without you!

Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter, it makes it so much more fun to write knowing people enjoy what I'm doing. I also appreciate the constructive feedback, it only makes me better! Drop a review for a sneak peak of next week's chapter!

Finally, I know this chapter is shorter than the previous two. I apologize, but I promise it's not just a filler, it's necessary to move along the story. Plus we get a brand new POV! I'll make it up to you with the next two, which should both be longer than anything I have yet!

Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass! Enjoy!

Chatper 4: Baruk

Baruk was still in shock. Three weeks later he still found it hard to believe that at forty-four years old, he had been chosen as the first Dwarven Dragon Rider!

The egg that had been given to the dwarves was ferried between clans by an honor guard, made up of five warriors from each clan. Each warrior was handpicked and tested for loyalty before given the position; they were the best of the best. Baruk had not been among them. That was three years ago. Last year the egg had been swapped with the one given to the Urgals which had not hatched either, in the hopes that one of them would hatch for the other race. Again Baruk had not made the cut. But just three weeks ago the honor guard had been attacked by a rogue band of dwarvish outlaws on its way to Tarnag. Two of the warriors from Durgrimst Quan were injured severely in the skirmish, and he was chosen as a temporary replacement.

As soon as he approached the egg it had begun to shake and rattle and the other guards look on in astonishment as a tiny silver head forced its way out of the shell, followed by a leg and then the rest of Argeten burst forth from his enclosure. Baruk had reached forward instinctively to touch the creature…

He could still perfectly recall the icy sting that had encompassed his entire body, the first time he touched Argeten. He looked down at his palm to ensure himself it was all real. His thick finger traced the pattern of the Gedwey ignasia that adorned his left palm.

He was young for a dwarf, but tall. Standing at four-and-a-half feet, he towered over many members of his race. As a member of Durgrimst Quan, he was well versed in the dwarven faith, although he had not been groomed as a priest himself. He had no immediate family, and as such his bloodline was not pure enough to grant him even the possibility of becoming a priest. Instead, Baruk had been raised a warrior, trained in the arts of war to protect the temple of Helzvog and the priests therein.

But no more am I a glorified bodyguard, now I am a rider! He thought to himself, squirming with pleasure at the thought.

The Queen of the Elves had left just two days ago after making all speed to Farthen Dur to meet him and Argeten as soon as the egg had hatched. She was remarkable! The perfect picture of grace and beauty and she had come all that way just to meet him! Baruk smiled as he remembered his first encounter with the Queen and how pleased she'd been to meet Argeten.

Since Argeten had hatched, Baruk had hardly left the room high up in Farthen Dur that was made to accommodate the dragons. Here he slept and ate with his partner of heart and mind, never leaving his side. As soon as he was large enough to ride, the Queen herself had promised to take Baruk to where Eragon Shadeslayer awaited to begin his training.

He had only ever glimpsed the legend that was Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Bjartskular when they passed through Celbedeil more than 4 years ago…

He had begged Grimsborith Gannel to allow him to accompany the warriors that had marched with King Hrothgar to aid the Varden, and again with King Orik at the final battle of Urubaen, but both times he was denied his request. His prowess as a warrior was not the question. Baruk had already proven himself in nearly every form of combat during his training, surpassing dwarves nearly twice his age as he moved up through the ranks of the Temple Guard. Gannel had believed that The Varden and their allies would not prevail over the mad king, and he had been reluctant to send any of his warriors to their death. He had sent the minimum required by the royal decree but he kept his finest warriors in Celbedeil, the seat of Durgrimst Quan.

He should have taken it as a compliment, to be considered one of the finest warriors of Durgrimst Quan, but he didn't. He was bitter at the loss of an opportunity to prove himself in a real battle and resented Gannel for doubting King Orik's cause. So when Argeten had hatched for him he had stayed in Farthen Dur, instead of returning to Celbedeil as Gannel had insisted. His choice had caused much tension between himself and his clan; it was part of the reason he was so anxious to get to Du Fells Flauga.

Baruk walked over to where Argeten was sleeping soundly in the fading sunlight that sparkled off his brilliant silver scales and laid a hand on his snout. The dragon opened one eye to look at him and hummed with pleasure. At three weeks old, he was roughly the size of a small cow, and Baruk sat down cross-legged and leaned up against the dragon's front shoulder.

How long will it be until you're big enough for us to travel to Du Fells Flauga?

Be patient young one… it will be many weeks yet until I can carry your weight. You are small but… mmm…heavy? He said with a deep guttural sound that Baruk took for laughter.

Speak for yourself, you're a cow with wings and only three weeks old!

Argeten growled and bared his teeth. Cows are food. I would like to see anything try and eat me!

Aye, I'm sure you'd be quite difficult to digest my friend!

Hmmpf…good night. young one. And with that, Argeten closed his eyes and immediately dropped back into sleep.

Baruk smiled and closed his eyes and let his mind wander back to the Elf Queen…Arya? Yes, yes, that was her name, so beautiful and…

Crash!

Baruk awoke suddenly at the sound. Voices were shouting in the hallway outside his room. Argeten sprang to his feet and growled at the door as Baruk snatched up his Huthvir and stood at the dragon's left shoulder.

The noise intensified as Baruk's guards shouted and then groaned as metal crashed to the stone floor.

All was quiet.

Baruk took a step forward towards the door and stopped as it slowly swung open and eight figures entered the room. They were dwarves, judging by their stature. In long black cloaks, the figures moved with surprising speed and grace, spreading out in a line and advancing towards Baruk and Argeten. Some held short swords and others longs spears with wicked barbed heads.

Fly! Baruk told his partner. One of us must get out alive! And you are more important, Fly Argeten!

Dragons do not flee! He growled.

And Argeten sprang forward, landing on the attacker on the far right and closed his jaws around its throat, whipping his head to the side and breaking his neck.

At the same time, Baruk leapt into position, protecting the dragon's left flank as he swept the Huthvir up towards the nearest assailant, but the dwarf was fast, too fast, and he blocked the blow with a quick turn of his short sword. Using the double ended weapon to his advantage, Baruk slammed the other end into the attacker's knee, who didn't even flinch as the weapon struck home. Baruk finished him by sweeping the Huthvir down onto the nape of his neck.

Why are they so fast?! He wondered to himself.

But there were too many, and they were unnaturally quick. Already two had closed on Argeten's back and pricked him numerous times with their wicked looking spears as he fended off another on his right. Baruk felt a fiery pain in his own backside as Argeten roared his displeasure.

As he turned to help his partner of heart and mind he felt a sharp pain in his lower leg, and looked down to see the dwarf he thought he'd slain holding onto the dagger he had plunged into Baruk's calf. He felt hot blood trickle down his leg as he kicked hard to detach himself from his attacker.

Gaining space he hefted the Huthvir and threw it at the attackers who had already closed on Argeten's rear. The weapon struck one in the chest and continued through the man and into the next.

But the move had cost Baruk his position and his weapon, and as he turned and drew his long bladed dagger he felt cold steel descend through his right shoulder and stop as the blade caught on his collar bone and stuck with a sickening grating sound.

The force of the blow slammed Baruk to his knees and he gasped as pain racked his entire body, as he fell he looked down in astonishment as another blade sprouted from his belly, his eyes glazed over in pain and tears as he glimpsed Argeten rear up on his hind legs and a spear catch him in the right shoulder.

The world was a haze of pain and sadness as the memories of the last few weeks flashed through his mind, Baruk slowly drifted out of consciousness.

All was silent and the darkness closed, embracing him like an old friend.

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