I have a few things to clear up here, for the sake of an anonymous reviewer by the name of Untamed (). I haven't, as of yet, decided if I want to make this a romance. At the moment, there won't be any romance between any of the characters. Not yet. My style tends to be very slow. Is that bad? Maybe. I appreciate the fact that you think it's too slow. I'll try to remedy that. I didn't really see Arya as offended Eragon was near her when I wrote the last chapter. She just felt kind of distant. A little uncomfortable with the fact that ANYONE was around her. As for the fact that Eragon has had some exposure to politics...Yes. He has. He's no longer completely incompetent. That doesn't mean he's a politician. It doesn't meant that he could hold his own in a long debate with, say, Islanzadí. Thank you for your time. This story is dedicated to Restrained. Freedom, yadayadaya.
Eragon leaned against Saphira's side, reading from a scroll. He remembered something Arya had told him once – there were elves whose words were a part of a game set into motion centuries before. He was beginning to understand that.
Did you know that Queen Amyara created the midnight blood lily, he asked Saphira. Using the same spell she shared with her son, who succeeded her as the elven monarch? Who used that spell to create a flower which he presented as a gift to a human princess, the daughter of King Daven? The very same princess who rose to power ten years later and was most well known for struggling to ensure a deeper alliance with the elves. Her eldest daughter was supposed to take the throne, but she became a Rider.
Saphira laughed softly. Excited?
Eragon read on, engrossed. He didn't notice Arya approaching him until she tapped him on the shoulder. He stood and turned to face her, nodding. He started to greet her when she raised a hand to stop him.
"I require a word with you, Eragon, if you would," she murmured. "Saphira...If I may meet with you at a later point?"
Of course, Saphira agreed. Arya reached out and took Eragon's hand, surprising him. She bid Saphira farewell, then led Eragon towards Tialdari Hall.
"I need to show you something," she said, cutting off the questions rising to Eragon's lips. He fell silent and followed her.
Arya took a deep breath, gesturing for Eragon to sit. She held out her hand to him. He stared blankly at her. She sighed impatiently, lifting it to eye-level. His eyes focused on the silvery mark, seeming not to comprehend.
And then the glimmer of understanding flashed in his eyes.
"It hatched?" he demanded. Arya nodded.
"Eragon..." she whispered. She took him by the arm, leading him out to her balcony where a green body, approximately the size of kitten, lay. "May I introduce you to Firnen?"
"When?" he asked simply.
"Recently. Very recently. After I gave you those scrolls two nights ago." Arya paused. "The choice of the new human monarch has been narrowed down to two. I have placed my support behind one. My mother has done the same, with her own pledging the alliance of our people. They seek your approval."
"Who?" Eragon queried. A small smile curved Arya's lips as Firnen fluttered into her arms.
"Oh, no." She leaned closer to murmur her response. "I'm afraid that will have to wait until you hear it officially. A meeting will be held in the evening. Remember...stay silent and listen. Speak when you are certain."
"Will you talk to Murtagh or will I?" Eragon asked her.
"I will," Arya offered. "You have other things to do. You have a legacy to carry on, an empire to rebuild. Don't become distracted."
"Nasuada!" Arya called.
The woman stopped. She looked rather out of place, in her royal purple gown with her hair bound, among the towering pines and endless green.
"Hello, Arya," Nasuada greeted the elf. She cocked her head to one side. "Did you require something?"
"Actually, I came to wish you," she said. "It is your birthday, is it not? Would you like to share some tea before the counsel?"
"Thank you, Arya," Nasuada replied quietly. "Have you informed Murtagh about the time?"
"I intend to find him now. You can wait for me in my apartment if you like. I'll return soon enough."
She didn't give Nasuada a chance to argue, instead whirling around to walk away.
"Murtagh," Arya nodded by means of greeting. "Have you been notified of timing of the meeting held this evening?"
"No," he answered curtly. "But I presume you intend to tell me."
Arya raised an eyebrow. Murtagh sighed.
"Sorry," he muttered. "That was uncalled for."
"No matter," Arya replied briskly. She told him the time. He thanked her.
Arya turned to return to her home, then stopped. She turned back to face the other Rider. "I warn you of this, Argetlam – it would be wisest for you to choose a candidate for the human throne to support, to throw your lot in with. It would not be wise to have two with a reason to mistrust you."
"Is that a warning or a threat?"
Arya stared at him coolly. "Truly, it is neither. It is a statement of fact. Interpret it as you will. Ignore it if you so choose, but on your head be it."
By the time Murtagh had opened his mouth to reply, she was gone.
"Happy birthday, Nasuada," Arya murmured, handing the woman a cup of blueberry tea.
"Thank you," Nasuada smiled. She accepted the tea and a honey cake from the plate Arya held out to her with her other hand. Arya took one for herself then set the plate down, sitting across from Nasuada.
Nasuada seemed about to say something. Then she froze. Her mouth opened and closed. "Arya...? When did this happen?"
Arya was bewildered at first. Then she realized Firnen was asleep in the corner of the room. She smiled faintly and repeated what she had earlier told Eragon.
Nasuada stared in wonder at the sleeping dragon. "I've...never seen a baby dragon before. It's beautiful."
"He," Arya corrected, gently but firmly. The small smile that had crept across her face widened. She extended her consciousness, brushing against his mind, feeling a rush of a feeling she could give no name to. Contentment...peace of mind...excitement. It was all of them and none of them. "He is beautiful."
"Yes, of course," Nasuada nodded, shaking herself. "My apologies."
Arya took a bite of her honey cake, the sweetness almost shocking to her tongue. She tilted her head to the side, chewing slowly and swallowing, washing down the mouthful of food. She came back to reality with a jolt, realizing she was staring at Nasuada.
"What is it, Arya?" the human woman asked her.
"Nasuada," Arya said slowly. "I've known you for most of your life. You are still very young. I have been a part of the Varden since before your birth. I would much prefer your ascending to the throne than Orrin, and you have the full backing of my people, but do you really want the throne? Do you want that responsibility?"
"It's not a matter of whether I want it or not," Nasuada answered immediately "But a question of who can lead the best. I believe that is me, more than Orrin. You can understand that. You've been fighting for this cause for most of your life. Far longer than mine. You have the time to live your own life now. But you don't plan to do so."
"No, I don't," Arya replied. "But my lifetime stretches far beyond yours. I have centuries. You have decades at the most."
"Politics has been all of my life," Nasuada pointed out. "Why not the rest of it? It's what I do best."
She drank the rest of her tea. "Don't worry about me, Arya. I can promise you that I'll be fine."
Arya smiled. "When have you not been? Nasuada...I'd rather not bring this up now, but I haven't had the chance to speak to you in private for days. I must ask you...release Eragon from his vow of fealty. You and I both know that it is probable you will ascend to the throne. If that occurs, a queen with a Rider obeying her would be just as dangerous as a Rider taking the throne himself."
Nasuada's dark eyes narrowed. "Do you accuse me of wanting nothing but power? Are you comparing me to Galbatorix?
"No," Arya enunciated. Her green eyes flashed in warning. "I am simply saying that that power should not be placed in anyone's hands, least of all a queen with influence of her own. His loyalty to you would prevent him from fulfilling his own duties in addition to that."
Nasuada thought about it, then nodded sharply. "It'll give Eragon's support more value."
Arya stood, walking lightly on the balls of her feet toward a corner of the room where she had left a bottle of wine. She fetched it and two goblets, returning to Nasuada's side.
"Here," she offered, pouring the wine. She sat down, raising her goblet. Nasuada did the same with hers, clinking them together. "To your twenty fourth birthday, and the future High Queen of Alagaesia."
"To Alagaesia," Nasuada chimed in.
The elf and human sat together, wine in hand. All they could do then was hope.