Chapter 6 – Rider Arrival

"Rider Eragon Shadeslayer, Dragon Saphira. You have arrived at last," bowed Gorderl respectfully. "Lady Nasuada would wish for your presence immediately."

Eragon bowed in return, Saphira arching her neck gracefully.

"I will, of course, meet her very soon. I shall visit as soon as I am able," he replied politely. Gorderl looked at him curiously.

"Rider Eragon as other errands beforehand?"

"No," Eragon said quickly, "That is- just after I've- never mind. I will make my presence to her as soon as I get the chance."

Arya was always an early riser, and usually woke shortly after sunrise everyday. This morning Arya woke early as usual, but instead of making her presence, she stayed in her bed quarters, sitting at the edge of her bed, her bow and arrow next to her, ready for sparring practice, though she did not go. Arya stared up at the ceiling and contemplated for a long time. She opened her bag, and took out a memoir. It was a small version of Föalin's portrait framed in the purest silver. Arya sighed, and suddenly felt a wave of consciousness, or an awareness of someone. She looked up. Eragon was standing in the doorway, his face drawn and oddly pale, as if he were unwell for the last couple of days. Arya opened her mouth in surprise, but then quickly clamped it shut, forming her face into an expression of monotony. Eragon walked in, and Arya noticed that he looked more like an elf than a human. She bowed her head and silently wished for him to go, yet half wished for him to stay. Eragon stood right in front of Arya.

"I wan- er what I mean is," he started, then stopped and started again formally,

"You are still here. I came just give my greetings."

Arya looked up, and then turned away at his piercing blue-green eyes.

"There is no need," she said as coldly as she could, and clutched at her miniature portrait, which was still on her lap. Eragon looked down, and saw it. Föalin. Again; can't she learn to forget him? I've tried so hard…so hard…

"Arya," he said clearly, and she turned back to face him. Eragon swallowed.

"Please, give me anoth-" then he cleared his throat, and said,

"Er, why aren't you out in the fields sparring?"

Arya blinked, then said coolly,

"It's my choice, whether I want to or not."

Eragon fidgeted nervously, and saw Arya focusing her gaze onto the portrait. Eragon decided not to say anything, though he wanted to remark upon it. Many minutes passed in silence, until Arya said,

"We can never…be like that, you know we cannot. Please leave."

Eragon didn't say anything, but coolly walked out of the room.

Arya suddenly threw Föalin's portrait on the floor, and the glass covering smashed against the tile floor, breaking into shattered pieces.

Melisande fiddled nervously with a strand of her hair as she waited at the edge of the sparring field. Surely a Shadeslayer and a rider would spar in the mornings she thought dully, and waited. It was a long while before Melisande saw Eragon entering towards the field, and she had waited patiently and silently. She watched as Eragon approached the gate.

"Sha-" she began as he passed her, but suddenly, Eragon turned, violently throwing his sword down on the field, and walked down the path out of the field. Melisande watched, wide-eyed. She thought quickly, then hurried and positioned herself behind a tree and suddenly sobbed,

"Ow! It hurts, help!"

Eragon turned, and strode towards the tree, where he found a little elf child in a white dress, holding her ankle and crying. Eragon rubbed his eyes in astonishment. An elf child? What could she be doing here?" Eragon knelt down.

"Are you alright?"

Melisande looked up. Oh good.

"My ankle-" sniffs "- it hurts."

"Here, let me have a look, I can fix it," Eragon said kindly, holding out his hands. Melisande quickly saw the trouble, and lied,

"It won't help, it happens everyday, nobody can fix it!" she cried devastatingly. "I have to go back to my room…" Melisande looked up at Eragon, her clear blue eyes looking helplessly at him.

"Will you help me?"

Eragon looked at her curiously.

"Yes," he said finally. "I will carry you to your room, is that alright for you?"

Melisande nodded, and he picked the small girl up and started walking back towards the Tronjheim. Eragon looked at the miserable looking girl he was carrying, who remained quiet from when he carried her.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Me- Melisande," the elven child replied shyly. Eragon looked into her face.

"You know, for a long while, my back was crippled and nobody, no matter what all the healers could do, could fix it." He grimaced, and Melisande gave a small smile. "It was a great pain."

Melisande nodded earnestly.

"My ankle is always like this, but sometimes, it's just fine. It's a curse," she said conversationally. "Whenever I visit here, I always like to watch the sparring nearby, it's great fun."

"Then-you don't live here?" Eragon said curiously. Melisande shook her head, but didn't say where, so Eragon hinted on it.

"You live in Ellesméra, then?"

Melisande shook her head again.

"No, but I was there before I came here yesterday with Princess Arya," she said, trying and succeeding in changing the topic. Eragon was intrigued.

"You know Arya?" Melisande tried to look bored.

"Who doesn't? Everybody knows her. She had to put up with me from there all the way to here." Eragon suddenly smiled.

"I had to put up with her for a time too…though I'm sure she wasn't as troublesome as you would be, I'd imagine." Melisande grinned devilishly.

"Of course. What is your name?"

"Eragon."

Melisande put on a face of astonishment.

"Rider Eragon?"

Eragon forced a smile. He had enjoyed talking to someone who was not aware of his status. People always changed, and seemed more formal once they knew.

"Yes," he said shortly. Melisande changed her expression to a thoughtful frown.

"Then…you know Brom, right?"

Eragon stopped in his tracks.

"How do you know about Brom?" he demanded. Melisande looked at him as though he should've known the answer as a common fact.

"He's my grandpapa of course. Well, was, I suppose. Princess Arya told me he died."

Eragon stared hard at the little girl.

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Um, look, we're there. Just over there, I can get there myself now. Thank you for your service, Rider Eragon," Melisande said quickly, and set herself free from his grasp. She bowed.

"Perhaps we can meet again soon, Rider Eragon," she said, then sidled into her room.

"Wait," Eragon called, but before he could get to her, someone behind him said,

"There you are Eragon. I've been waiting for you. Let us talk in my study." Lady Nasuada. Eragon frowned, then forced another bright smile.

"Lady Nasuada. Of course."

I will find her. I will find her and get her to tell me. I must find her. What does she know? How can this be?