Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle

Special thanks to bigmatt365 and doubrown for your reviews. Your input will be put to use.

The Mightiest Queen

Think like a queen. A queen is not afraid to fail. Failure is another steppingstone to greatness.

Oprah Winfrey

"C'mon men! Just a little more and we're there!" Redwave pressed his crew to the brink, their very survival depended on it. If they lagged behind, they would be butchered by the incoming army of imperial soldiers.

"Captain!" Berrad shouted. "I'm not going to make it."

Redwave looked back. His first mate was limping badly and his leg was bent in an odd direction. It was incredible he had kept up this long. The captain run back to the man and without a moments hesitation or any show of exertion he picked up the man and threw him over his shoulder.

"Keep moving! Don't stop until you reach the trees!"

The sight of sanctuary filled the remaining men with new energy. One by one the crew sprinted into the woods. The Captain was the last to enter. He counted each man to make sure that everyone was accounted for. Satisfied, he entered the foreboding landscape of the trees. His crew rested in small opening in the trees a ways in, each man gasped for breath after their marathon.

"Melaris! Watch for the column at the edge of forest!"

"Aye, sir."

Redwave sat Berrad down to better examine his leg.

"Got knocked off my horse, sir. I think its broken."

The captain nodded in agreement. "Most likely. The problem is that this is beyond knowledge to mend with magic. I might be able to realign the bones but the rest is up to nature. Derix! Get a splint ready!"

"Yes, Captain!"

He tore off a piece of his cloak and handed it to Berrad. "You might want to bite on this." The man did as he was told and mentally prepared himself. Closing his eyes, Redwave began to recite in the ancient tongue. Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched in awe. For most present, Redwave was the only one they had ever seen perform magic. The words floated through the trees, a melody unheard within the bowels of the forest. Stern, yet kind. Tough, but gentle. A leader, though a servant.

Berrad bit into the cloth as pain shot through his leg. Slowly the bones returned to their natural places and Redwave ended his spell. He took several deep breaths before risking to stand.

"Find a large branch you can use as a crutch and avoid putting weight on it. Where's that splint?"

"Right here, sir!" Derix answered as he ran up to him. "Just give me a second and he'll be wearing it."

"Captain!" The source of the shout was Melaris who was running toward them. "The empire has arrived! They're entering the forest!" A feeling of panic swept through the crew.

"You said they wouldn't follow us!"

"It seems the king's dogs fear their masters more than the elves." Despite his calm, even words, he was on the verge of a panic attack of his own. If they followed them in they would be slaughtered. "If you split up in different direction you may lose them."

"Where will you be sir?" One crewman asked.

"I will stay here and hold them off, draw their attention away from your escape." Silence. The men looked at each other. Derix would speak first.

"With all due respect, sir. We would be lost. We have no assurance that the elves will help and we will starve in this god-forsaken forest. I think I speak for everyone when I say it would be a rather poor display if we abandoned our captain here."

Redwave looked around at his crew. Each one was nodding his agreement. All would rather die with him then run.

"And if I make this an order?" He asked. Derix only smiled

"Then I will be your first crewman to defy them."

Underneath his magic mask Redwave was smiling. "I can't say I've been happier to have men disobey orders. Let's make our last stand memorable shall we? Follow me!" He drew his sword and held it high in the air. "We strike first!" Fourteen voices joined his own. Fourteen men followed his lead. Fourteen men would fall.

The imperial column, already struggling through the underbrush, was 'caught with their britches down' by the ferocious attack. Jayson cut two down while they fumbled for their weapons before the third managed to draw his.

"Freedom!" Was their battle cry. A shout that sent shivers down the spines of soldiers for years afterwards.

"Is this the best they can throw at us?" Berrad asked, mockingly while he beheaded an imperial.

"Don't count your victory before it's over." Warned Redwave as he stabbed another imperial.

"Look at them! Stumbling around like-urk!" An arrow sprouted from his throat. He gurgled for several seconds before collapsing to the ground."

"Berrad!" Redwave lunged to the side of his fallen comrade, but he was too late. His eyes had already rolled to the back of his head; evidence that his friend was gone from the mortal realm.

Around the battlefield, numbers were coming to bear. Two men died to spear thrusts and another to sword slash. The ragged band was split up, desperately waging battle in small groups.

'We've lost.' He despaired, what hope remained within him was gone.

Redwave suddenly became aware of two foreign minds nearby. He shot upward and starred in that direction. Two elves, for there was no doubt they were, watched from a distance. A glimmer of hope rose in his chest.

'Help us!' He shouted as loud as he could with his mind. His men might stand a chance if the elves took part. They turned their attention on him, their eyes locked onto his. Nothing, no movement to help, only watching. 'Help us!' He pleaded with them. The cries of his men dying around him pressed on him with unbearable weight. The elves looked at each other, communicating silently, then, without warning, one disappeared, then the other. Redwave's mouth sat agape. The elves had abandoned them, left them to die when they were in position to save them. Why?

Rage boiled inside him. Hatred he had never felt before. Cowards! Afraid to fight and risk their own necks. Self righteous mongrels!

"Curse you!" He shouted into the forest. "Cowards I name you! Cowards! Curse you!" His new-found anger fueled him with dark energy. He turned to the battle and lept into the fray. He would not die here! He would live to fight again, if just to spite the pointy eared ones. Growling like a feral animal he attacked indiscriminately, making no distinction between tree or man. Injuries had no pain, even those that would cripple lesser men. "Die!" He screamed. "Die!" Every shout was like a gong of death, signalling the fall of another soldier. Eternity passed before the fighting ceased. No man save one still stood among the dozens of corpses. He teetered heavily, his stamina spent and along with it his magic face covering.

Standing was impossible, he fell collapsed to his knees. The foliage became blurry, and blood poured freely from injuries. Weakly he looked into sky, as if to seek comfort from above. A solitary beam of light pierced through the treetops. Redwave smiled.

A lone figure broke from its cover and quickly strode toward him with purpuse, but he failed to notice. The slow bum bum of his heard deafened him to all else. Two gentle arms held him, keeping him from fall backwards. Instinctively he tried to reach for his sword, but it was far from the reach of his exhausted limbs. A soothing, almost musical, feminine voice spoke to him.

"Steady." She said. "Do not move."

"Bury my men." He whispered.

"Save your strength."

"Bury my men." He repeated. "They deserve…. that much."

The woman appeared to nod. "I will, now rest."

"Near the water…" He continued "... if it's not… too difficult." Each breath was harder to make. "Perhaps… a few trees…" Finally his eyes rolled back and he took one final breath before plunging into the dark that engulfed him.

'Awake.' A voice echoed through his mind. He grunted and tried to slip deeper into the comfy embrace of his unconsciousness. 'Awake. There is work to be done. Awake!' Slowly he became aware of soreness all over his body. With a grunt of discomfort he opened one eye, and then the other. The sun had set long ago, taking any light with it. Without it he couldn't see something that was touching his face.

"Garjzla." An orb of light flamed into existence a few feet to his right. Now illuminated, he could make out the nearby trees and shrubbery. Slowly, he attempted to rise. Pain shot through his body and his head pounded.

"Ugh, who let the dwarf mine in my head?" He muttered. With great effort he managed to get on his knees. A few feet away lay his sword. Carefully he crawled to it and clutched it like a drinker holding his favorite mug. In this instance, his sword worked well as crutch to help him to his feet. His legs protested against the weight of his body.

Now erect, he took in his surroundings. Signs of the battle littered the area. Dozens upon dozens of corpses covered the once pristine forest floor. Redwave frowned, something was amiss. It took only a moment for him to discover the problem: he could not see the bodies of his comrades. A quick look confirmed his suspicions.

'Where could they have gone?' His mind returned to the woman who had appeared to him. 'Perhaps she fulfilled her promise.' He thought. Satisfied with his answer, he moved on to his next problems. Who was the woman? Where should he go? What was he to do now? His crew was dead. Should he find a port town and find a new one? Too many question swirled in his head. He needed a place to think and this wasn't it. With his sword as a crutch, he began limping along to the edge of the forest, unsure of his purpose in this new life he had been given. Under other circumstances he might have noticed a woman watching him from the safety of the trees.

Days went by before they reached the great elvish capital of Ellesmera. Barzul stared in awe at the city as they passed through it. It was grander than he could've have ever imagined. While he gaped Neomi slowed her walk so that she was at his side. Placing her lips to his ear she whispered last minute instructions.

"I think it best if you went back to being called Redwave. It would not do well for dwarvish curses to be uttered in the queen's presence."

"Understood." He replied. Tiber walked close by his rider's side, unwilling to go more than a foot away from him. His head darted from side to side, as if he distrusted the mighty city and its inhabitants. By the time they reached the palace, Redwave thought that nothing would ever shock him again. He was well off. Twelve lords watched them as they entered the throne room, each one magnificent and ancient at the same time. But the greatest figure of them all was the queen, Arya Drottning. Elegance and authority radiated from her form, leaving no doubt she was the ruler. Her dragon, Firnen, lay next to the throne, observing the newcomers. So struck was the captain by the whole affair that what he did next surprised Neomi.

With great delicacy he removed his helm then knelt toward the queen before the entire assembly, refusing to look directly at the elvish regent. Careful to get his pronunciation correct, he quoted the traditional elvish greeting.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin."

"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr." Replied the queen. With exaggerated caution, he rose to his feet. "I am glad to see the last egg has finally found its rider." Redwave nodded mutely while Tiber hid his head in one of his claws, embarrassed. Arya laughed at his antics and her attention to Neomi. "I am glad to see you as well, Neomi. How fares your training?"

"It fares well Arya Drottning."

Arya nodded, then at last looked to Sela, who had remained silent since they had reached the city. "You have grown more magnificent since you hatched those years ago."

'Thank you, Arya Drottning. You do not seemed to have changed much in those years though.'

Arya laughed again. "I suppose I have not."

At last, she turned her attention to the source of the meeting. Neomi noticed something flash in the queen's eye for the briefest second. It was impossible but... She swore it was recognition. Arya rose from her throne and strode up to Redwave. "What is your name, rider?"

"Captain Redwave, Arya Drottning"

The room was full of whispers from the elves present. Many had heard of him and his exploits; though he and many of his adventures had often been dismissed as myths. Arya did not appeared satisfied with his answer, but she did not press the issue.

"I would speak to you all more, but pressing issues hold me back. Neomi, take the Redwave and Tiber to one of the rider homes for now." Neomi nodded and led them out of the palace.

The rider homes were buildings that were added after the Rider War to accommodate any visiting dragon riders. They weren't often needed but found use from time to time.

Redwave was unnaturally quiet even for him. He said nothing while Neomi led them to his quarters and continued to remain silent.

As they walked Neomi secretly confided with Sela.

'Why does he show such great respect for Arya?' She asked her dragon.

'She is the queen. Is she not deserving of respect?'

'Yes, but he has never showed that respect to anyone else, even to Nasuada.'

Sela conceded the point. 'It is another piece to his great puzzle.'

Once they reached their destination Neomi showed him around the elvish house then left for her own. Leaving him with Tiber and his own thoughts.

Hazel was exhausted. No, exhausted didn't even cover it. For the past few days they had been traveling almost non stop with the exception of a few hours of sleep every night. Early on she had tried asking him to stop but he never allowed more than a minute or two. Desperate, she tried to engage the strange man in conversation.

"What do you know of my father?"

Terrance adjusted the pack on his shoulder as they walked. "Not too much more than the next man. But he did tell me a'bit 'bout you."

Hazel seized her chance to the old sailor talking. "What did he tell you."

The seaman looked at his surroundings before dropping his pack on the ground. "This'll be a good place ta' camp."

Gratefully, dropped her own pack and dropped to the ground. Never had she walked so far in her life. "You were saying?"

Terrance sat on the ground in front of her before taking a long drink from his waterskin. After drinking his fill, he began. "Well, first o' all. He told me ya' shouldn't exist."

Hazel frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Ya' father ain't supposed ta' be able ta' have kids, or so he told me." This bit of information shocked Hazel into silence, but Terrance continued. "He never explained ta' me why, but that's the truth. Anyway, he absolutely adored ya'. I remember he took me with 'im one day on a trip to yer families farm. We hid near a few trees and watched ya' play in front of the house for a spell." The old man leaned back and thought for a moment. "We were about ta' head back when a wild bear charged out of the woods straight fer ya'. Of course, Captain didn't stay still, he jumped right from his hiding ran that bear clean through in one stroke. Just like that." He made swinging motion with his hand. Hazel remembered that day well; though she had never connected the strange man with her father. In fact, now that she though about it. She remember many times during her life when she thought someone was watching her just outside her field of vision. "Wasn't the last time he spied on ya' nor do I think it was the first time. He loved ya' so much, Hazel, don't hate him for not bein' around in your life."

"I don't hate him." She replied without any real conviction. Terrance raised an eyebrow.

"Is that a fact?" He shook his head and rose to his feet. "Well, we're wasting daylight. Let's go."

Hazel groaned.

Redwave sat in his room, staring at the wall. He hadn't moved since he had arrived. He couldn't believe the events of the past few weeks. His eyes strayed to Tiber, who was curled up and sleeping on the bed. Nothing seemed to put off the golden dragon for long.

While he mused he heard the sound of someone walking up the stairs. Slowly, as not to disturb his companion, he rose from his seat and waited to see who it was. To his surprise, Arya appeared at the top of the steps. She was no longer in her queenly robes but in more mobile attire. Despite his surprise he did not forget to greet her in elvish fashion, to which she made the traditional reply.

"To what do I owe this honor?" He asked her once greetings were out of the way.

"I wish to speak to you." She motioned for him to follow her. In silence they descended the steps and walked amidst Ellesmerra. "This is not the first time you have been under the trees of Du Weldenvarden." She told him. Redwave frowned.

"Why do you say that?"

"This is not the first time I have seen you."

Redwave shrugged. "We both fought in the war, it is likely we crossed paths."

Arya shook her head. "Eight decades ago you and crew of men fought the empire under our branches. All your crew died and nearly did you."

Redwave stepped in front of the queen; stopping them both in their tracks. He stared straight into her eyes. Anger was seeping into his features. "How do you know this?" He demanded.

Arya looked at the captain with something like pity. "I was there."

"We have been gone many days, we should return soon" Falion to Arya.

They had been traveling the forest for no reason really. Arya just wanted to get out of the city. She had enjoyed their time away from anyone else, but Falion was right.

Arya sighed. "Very well. Let us go, then."

"If turn north we can return to Ellesmerra in two days. Arya?"

Sounds of metal on metal could be heard in the distance. Arya had heard them and had begun to move in that direction. Falion followed her as they crept closer. It wasn't long until they found the source. Quickly, they hid themselves.

A desperate battle played out before them. Imperial soldiers battled men in unusual garb.

"What is this?" She asked Falion.

"I do not know." He answered truthfully. Humans rarely breached their forest, much less waged battle in it. "My guess is that these strange men are rebels and the empire has trapped them in here." He glanced sideways and saw Arya beginning to draw her sword. "What are you doing?"

"We have to help." She said. Falion grabbed her arm before she could move.

"No! We cannot. Your mother's laws forbid us to interfere."

Arya shook her head in frustration. "We can't leave them to die!"

"I am afraid we must." He said solemnly.

As they watched Arya was drawn to watch one particular rebel. He was cloaked in all black and his face was covered. Soldier after soldier fell to his sword. With the strength of desperation no one could stand against his wrath.

Suddenly, the man whirled in their direction. Even without seeing his eyes she knew he was staring right at them.

'Help us!' Came a mental plea. Arya turned to Falion. His face remained emotionless as he watched. 'Help us!' The plea was desperate. It tore at Arya like sword.

"We should leave." Falion turned away from the carnage but Arya watched a moment longer. She could feel the man's pleading eyes upon her, but she too left. As they sneaked away they heard the audible curses of the man they had left to die. Neither spoke while they mounted their horses that grazed nearby and rode away. Arya felt horrible, like she had murdered those men herself. Minutes past and the guilt persisted.

'What a horrible fate.' she thought. 'to die alone in a strange land.' The feeling overpowered her usual reason. 'No! They would not die alone!' She shouted her command to her horse who immediately obeyed.

"Arya! No!" Faolin shouted after her. His words fell on deaf ears. Arya's horse raced back toward the battle ground as fast as it could gallop. Dread filled her as she was greeted by a new sound: silence. Once she came near to the site she dismounted to continue on foot. What she saw was horrendous. Bodies were everywhere in every conceivable manner and form. Some leaned against trees and others lay on the ground with their fatal wounds. One man stood amidst the carnage with his back to her. A man clothed in black. He teetered as if he were drunk before falling to his knees. She approached him then lept to to grab him before he fell onto his back.

"Steady." She told him. "Don't move."

Whatever had been covering his face was gone. She saw him look up at her with half-opened eyes.

"Bury my men." He said in a near whisper.

"Save your strength." She could see his wounds were severe. It was incredible he was alive at all.

"Bury my men." The man repeated. "They deserve that much."

"I will, now rest."

He uttered a few more words before his eyes rolled back. Falion walked over to Arya and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I will take care of the bodies. You heal him." Falion called into the words. Soon several horses answered. With great care he placed the many bodies on the backs of the horses whilst Arya tended to the stranger. Fallion had to summon more horses to carry all the bodies. Several hours would pass before she completed her task. As he began to stir Arya and Falion left departed from the battlefield. Though Arya stayed a little longer to watch the man leave.

Redwave listened to her story in silence. He struggled with her every claim. Was it true? Had she saved him? He finally spoke when she finished.

"All my life I have hated elvenkind. Now it seems I was mistaken." His head hung in shame. "I am a fool."

"No, you are not." Arya lifted his chin with her hand; forcing him to look her in the eye. "You are a brave man that had every right to be angry."

Redwave gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Arya smiled in return. "Would you like to see where they are buried?" He nodded that he would. "Follow me." She led him to a solitary spot outside the city where several trees were planted near small brook. A stone lay in the earth between two of the trees. Inscribed in the ancient tongue were these words.

Under these trees lie unknown heroes that gave their lives in battle against Galbatorix under the leaves of the forest.

Redwave knelt near the inscription and gazed at the trees that marked the final resting place of his friends. In ninety years he never once had forgotten these loyal men. His body shook with emotion. It took all his will not to break down where he knelt.

Arya retreated a distance to give him the privacy he needed. She used the time to contemplate the situation she found herself in. Before talking to Redwave she had spoken with Neomi to discover exactly why they had come. When she realized that she would be his teacher nervousness and fear went through her. She had never trained a rider, but then again, neither had Eragon.

There is a first time for everything. Firnen told her. Aside from that Neomi also told her what she knew and observed of the seaman. It wasn't going to be easy teaching him. He obviously carried much emotional weight with him. Weight that could be a distraction to him.

Her eyes flicked towards Redwave as he finally rose to his feet. Slowly, he walked to her. There was certain look of peace on his face, like he had at last allowed himself some closure.

"Thank you for bringing me here." His choking voice told her he had held back tears.

"Neomi tells me I am to train you as my apprentice." She said. Redwave nodded. "Are you ready to begin immediately?"

"Yes." He had new determination. Life had given him a new purpose, and he would seize it.

"Than be ready in the morning."

"You let them escape?!" The man shouted at the messenger in front of him; who shivered in the face of his wrath.

"They fled into the woods, master! We could not follow!"

"We have wasted too many resources and have nothing to show for it!" The man paced the room, trying to abate his own temper. "What of ebrithil-stenr? What is their progress?"

"The first should be ready within two months at most."

The man's wrath subsides some. It was some good news at least.

"I want all of our resources put into it. Get it done as soon as possible."

"Yes, master." The messenger fled the room; happy to put as much distance as possible between them.

Master, as he was called, returned to his seat; contemplating his next move. Time was his greatest ally now, time and secrecy. He would withdraw his active forces in favor of advancing the 'Great Plan'. He looked down at his table and the papers that lay there. Long he had spent trying to decipher the riddles on the pages but so far had little success. Despite all his knowledge none of them made sense. His eyes wandered onto a page where a ballad was written. The words seemed to tell part of a much larger story but without the rest he was left with only three stanzas.

His sword is sharp, his spear is long,

His arrow swift; the warrior strong;

His heart is bold and stands by gold;

The man no more shall endure wrong

The City's throne shall be freed!

O! Northern folk, the summons heed!

Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste!

The queens of friend and kin have need.

Under the cities great and tall

The Queens have come unto their halls!

Their foe is dead, the King of Dread,

And ever so their foes shall fall!

A/N: Tune in next time to find out more of Redwave's history and the mysterious events that are building to the climax. See you then.

The poem is origionally JR Tolkien's 'Misty Mountain's Cold' poem. I just changed a few words.