Hello everyone,
Here I am again with the 4th and by far happiest of my chapters! It's really nice to write about glad characters ...
Anyway, this chapter will begin in Arya's POV, but will change to Eragon's towards the end. I've done that to show how they sort of get closer and closer to each other, until they ...
Well, what happens, you'll have to read below.
Chapter 4: Together again
The day when Eragon and Saphira were supposed to arrive dawned bright and cold. Arya awoke with a feeling of nervousness, which intensified the longer she stayed in bed. When she finally was unable to bear it, she got up and made her silent way through the still sleeping house. The door creaked as usual when she opened it, but she didn't think Roran or Katrina had heard it.
Outside, the air was fresh in that way which only existed just before sunrise, and little dewdrops were clinging to the grass as Arya walked through it. It was going to be a beautiful autumn day, excellent for flying with Fírnen. She could see that already, but suppressed the impulse to call for her dragon. Flying would have to wait.
Raising her eyes to watch the last of the stars fading away, Arya let her thoughts wander freely. During the five days since her conversation with Eragon through their Scrying mirrors, the eagerness and the excitement had been rising within her until she felt as though she would burst. But now, when she was actually going to meet him again, the anxiety had taken over instead. In what ways had Eragon changed during those fifty years they had been apart? In what ways had she changed in his eyes? She knew that the burden of being queen, which was upon her even when she left Du Weldenvarden, must have affected her personality in some way, though no one had actually said how.
She had not informed her people of her decision, which had been to simply abdicate and follow Eragon back to his island, but suddenly wished she had. If they'd been able to arrange all this before Eragon arrived, she would not have that hanging over her now. Well, she thought grimly. At least, he and Saphira might be able to help us in some way. I do not envy him, though.
In an effort to prevent these thoughts from taking over her mind completely, Arya turned her attention towards Roran and Katrina instead. They had been very kind to her over the past years, and had allowed her to stay with them as often as she liked. Being so isolated from the rest of Alagaësia, Carvahall felt like the only place where she could really ignore her position, except when someone made jokes about it. And that was so much better than having to be followed by several elves wherever she went. Even when she thought she was all alone!
Also, Arya knew that Roran and Katrina thought they owed a debt to her, after she had helped them rebuild their old house, and later the whole village, a few years after Eragon's departure. Some of the other villagers had not been too happy about the idea at first, but had got over their feelings when they realized how similar Roran's and Katrina's house looked to their old one.
And now, after fifty years together with her, the villagers seemed not to think that having an elf among them was any strange at all. They even invited her to some of their celebrations, when she had time to be present.
Arya smiled towards the slowly rising sun as she thought of all this. Then her thoughts returned to Eragon yet again, and to what he might say about her close friendship with his oldest friends. He would approve it, wouldn't he? She had been sure before, but was now uncertain.
- Do not alarm yourself when you do not need to, Fírnen said in a clear effort to sound reproving, but with little success.
- I am doing my best, Arya responded, her bright laughter floating up and spreading with the wind while she spoke. Where are you now, anyway?
A picture of high mountains, passing under the green dragon flashed through her mind, accompanied by the feeling of cold air rushing past. Arya knew that he was trying, without words, to persuade her to join him in the air, but she resisted the temptation. She wanted to remain with the others, at least until Eragon and Saphira were seen.
- Then return to the house, if that is what you want, said Fírnen, who succeeded more with his reproving tone than he had done before. But you know what I think about it. And I also believe that flying with me will reduce your nervousness much better than if you just stay indoors.
- Maybe, arya said, unable to help a sigh, before she broke the contact between them.
When the sun had risen high enough in the sky for its warmth to reach Arya, and when she thought it was time for breakfast, she hastened back to the light and cheerful house. Roran had already gone down to the village, and Katrina was laying the table. She turned her head at once when she sensed someone behind her.
"Hi!" she said. "I heard you leave about an hour ago. You could have done something about the door, couldn't you?"
"Yes, I could", Arya admitted, taking the plates from Katrina's overfull arms. "I have said I shall for years, I know, but ... I just never get around to doing it."
Katrina smiled.
"Oh, never mind!" she said. "Come and sit down! Have you eaten anything?"
"No", Arya said. "But let's do that quickly, because there is still quite a lot to be done, isn't there?"
They spent the morning making the house ready for the arrival of the guests. Arya collected all flowers she could find from the surroundings, which was an impressive lot considering how late in the ear it was, and put them up all over the house. When she was finished, the house looked as much like one of Ellesméra's hals as she guessed it was ever going to get.
But all the time, she was also aware of how much her nervousness affected everything she did. She spent several minutes twining the last creeper around the leg of the table, because her hands were shaking and she kept having to redo it.
"Arya, that's enough", said Katrina finally from behind her. "It's all right, you know. Eragon won't mind if you have done one little thing wrong. He won't even see it."
"But I will", Arya pointed out, straightening herself up to meet Katrina's eyes. "And I know how it should be."
"Don't worry!" Katrina said, smiling reassuringly at her. "Anyway, if you see Nasuada coming, please tell me, because she should be here soon. She'll come together with Roran and Ismira, I think. Will the others arrive around the same time, do you think?"
"Yes", said Arya. "Is there anything more to be done?"
"No, I don't think so", said Katrina, letting her gaze wander around the room in satisfaction. "We've done well. Or ... maybe not. Eragon won't recognize the house, which we wanted him to. Didn't we?"
A sudden cold sensation began to grow inside Arya. Katrina was right. They had wanted to show Eragon how well they had managed to rebuild both his old house and the rest of Carvahall. But if they decorated the house like this, he would not recognize it for what it was, would he?
"I was only joking", Katrina said quickly, noticing the look on Arya's face. "It's all perfect! Now, we'll have to eat something before the others arrive!"
In the middle of the afternoon, Roran, Ismira and Nasuada arrived, closely followed by Albriech, Baldor, Hope and Angela, the herbalist. They all inspected the house, but the only one to comment it was Angela.
"You are a bit nervous, after all, aren't you?" she said to Arya, that mysterious little smile visible on her face.
"I am not!" Arya said, though she was unsure why she tried to deny it.
"Oh, don't lie!" sighed Angela. " You know you can't. You get that uncertain expression every time you try, and you tell us the truth clearly enough anyway."
Unable to find any retort, Arya simply shot the herbalist a very stirn look.
Dusk was gathering around the house when they finally set off towards the place Arya had told Eragon to come to. Not having any idea about where they were going to meet, she had chosen the clearing in which Eragon had raised Saphira. It lay near the house, and both of them knew very well how to get there. At least, she hoped Saphira still remembered the way.
Everyone in the group, except for Arya, kept on talking merrily as they walked into the forest. Angela soon started telling them stories from the war against Galbatorix, making it sound as though she instead of Eragon was the hero, which especially amused Roran. His laugh echoed through the otherwise quiet forest, and Arya could sense how several of the smaller animals fled at once when they heard the group of humans approach. If she had been alone, she would never have caused such fear to fill the entire clearing, but she could find no way of telling the others to stop talking altogether.
So instead, she did her best to soothe all the animals she could reach, and kept her gaze fixed upon the sky, looking intently for any sign of a blue, shimmering dragon.
Meanwhile, Saphira was flying swiftly over the mountains, guided by her own sense of direction, which was far beyond that of any human or elf. Eragon kept smiling at everything he saw, from the distant mountain peaks, which were already swept in white, to the valleys and forests they passed over. It was all familiar. It was his home, and he was really returning. Until now, it had been hard for him to believe, even when they had made out the coast of Alagaësia far ahead of them. That had been familiar too, yes, but not at all in this way.
- Eragon! said Saphira suddenly, startling him. We're there now! Look!
And so they were. Below them, a small clearing could be seen, and even from this hight, Eragon was able to recognize it. This was where he had hidden Saphira, where he had come to talk to her every day, and where he had given her her name.
With a grin spreading all over his face, Eragon jumped off Saphira even before she reached the ground, to look around at all the people who had been waiting for him. They were all standing silent for a while, before everyone shouted:
"Eragon!"
And before Eragon knew what was really going on, he found himself surrounded by familiar figures. Roran, patting him repeatedly on the back and calling:
"Now you certainly have a lot to tell us, haven't you?"
Katrina, smiling silently at him with the tears visible in her eyes, just like when he had departed. Angela, crying something which he was unable to make out over all the other voices. And Nasuada, shaking his hand and saying that she had been missing his support when ruling the Empire.
But soon, Eragon looked over all the people around him, searching for someone else. He saw her at once, standing by the trees, a little aside from the others. She made no attempt to push forwards into the circle of people surrounding him, but her eyes never left his face. Her expression was one he had never seen before, like longing and uncertainty mingled, as if she was unsure how he would greet her.
Eragon did not need to think. Clearing the distance between himself and Arya in two big strides, he found himself suddenly clinging to her, for a moment oblivious to all the people watching. And he knew she was feeling the same, even though she had been so unwilling to show her feelings before.
Eragon felt none of the passion or the grief he had experienced together with Arya before, but just a quiet sensation of happiness. It was like a dragon and Rider meeting again after a very long time apart.
It was Angela's voice which finally made them break apart, as she said:
"Well, I think you ought to let each other breathe. Otherwise, I'll have to resuscitate you yet again, which I'm quite tired of by now."
Turning red, Arya stared around the clearing, evidently searching for something to say, but with no success. An awkward silence ruled for a while, and it was clear from the looks on the others' faces that this was something they knew they should not have seen. However, Eragon did not blame them. He had acted without thinking, and if it had made Arya awkward or displeased in any other way, he would have to apologize later.
"But come on, all of you!" Katrina said finally. "We can't stand out here all night. It's getting cold! And besides, there is so much to show you, Eragon. So now, let's go!"
And, as the evening fell over the high, mighty and silent mountains of the Spine, Eragon started walking towards the house and the village he did not yet know existed.
