Arya was stood on the sparring field, watching as the silhouette of Eragon and Saphira grew smaller and smaller, eventually eluding even the elven sense of sight. She massaged her temples gently while her mind ran over the past few days. Saphira had declared to the elf that she Eragon was as close to his old self as would be possible, and she had asked for Arya's permission to remove themselves from Ellesmera to start getting back to heir previous selves. Arya had not hesitated in approving of the decision, content that she had played her part in saving the Rider; and she felt that it would be appropriate to discuss the topic of the war once they returned. She could still feel the sensation of Saphira puffing a light cloud of smoke at her in thanks.
The elven lady exited the field, avoiding both the sparring matches occurring and the elven warriors preparing to go and join the Varden or Islanzadί; and went to go and sit beneath the Menoa tree. There was no logical explanation or reasoning for her choice, other than the subconscious fact she felt more at peace there than in many other places, and she was guaranteed to not be disturbed.
Of course, she mused, the gardens of Tialdarί Hall would have sufficed just as well, however the beauty in this spot is far more than in most of Alagaesia.
It was not long before she returned to her home, and informed Queen Islanzadί as to the Rider's whereabouts, via the Draumr Kópa. She could tell her mother wasn't very pleased at this news, for the armies were worried about the consequences that would occur if the Red Dragon and Murtagh were to show up; but was glad of Eragon's recovery, for it meant he would be able to rejoin the fighting soon. Few words then passed between them other than the usual formalities and exchange of news. Arya let the magic go and turned from the mirror; there was little more to do that day, so she decided to go and study some poetry before succumbing to sleep.
The days passed slowly for the princess. She missed Eragon's company and the time they had previously spent chatting was now dedicated to combing the extensive library of scrolls and books to find something that would pique her interest. She reached up to one of the uppermost shelves and removed a large and dusty scroll on the Ancient Language. It was not much, however it would serve to take her mind from wandering in memories of past times and more recent times. It was to no avail though, and one memory was particularly persistent – when Arya noticed Eragon beginning to change.
It had been a long day, and Arya leant against one of the trees nearby for support. Eragon was acting similarly, and all this was in response to their latest sparring match. It was gradually getting to the point of neither person being able to see either their own weapon, let alone their opponent's; instead they were relying on instinct to guide their blocks and strikes. This particular day, the match had worn on for nearly twenty minutes, and neither herself nor Eragon was getting enough of an advantage to beat the other. Arya could feel her sword getting heavier and more cumbersome to move as she twisted and spun to avoid her 'pupil's' attacks, and launch some of her own. Another ten minutes passed before they decided to call it a day. Almost simultaneously they each dropped their weapon before reaching for a support. The elf looked at the young man opposite her, and was witness to a sight that had not befallen anyone for a just over a month – Eragon was laughing, and the emotion in his eyes was none other than delight. Arya was a little confused as to what the occasion could be to warrant his mirth, but nonetheless smiled. As it had become a custom for them, they sat upon the ground and leant against a nearby log, talking over the sparring, inconsequential topics that came up, and any questions that came to Eragon during their time together. It was while they were talking that Arya first knew something within the Rider had shifted, for his eyes were bright, his conversation was animated, and his body language had an open quality to it.
Arya shook her head to clear it. Without Eragon's companionship and with her observations of the Rider, it was as she returned to Tialdarί Hall that she realised something else. As much as she had aided Eragon in returning to his former self, so too he had done the same for her. Despite there being a war on, she no longer felt as oppressed by it, and she too was much more open in both her body language and her actions. Where before she would have walked through Ellemera simply giving a curt nod to anyone she passed, now she would incline her head and maybe exchange a few words with said elf. This shocked her – it was certainly not a suitable time to let her guard down, no matter how little it was, for there was still a war on. However, a part of her thanked Eragon, for however much he may have felt he owed her for helping him, she knew that she owed him twofold, and she resolved to thank him upon his return.
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