Roran strode through the camp urgently, his mind a million miles away. He broke into a quick run. His destination was the tent of Nasuada. His intentions of this visit- to find out where his cousin was.
When Roran skidded to a halt in front of the cloth home of his leader, he saw her stood outside with a grim frown upon her face and her eyes fixed upon the mountain before her.
"My Lady?"
Roran's hesitant voice made Nasuada, turning to face him at once, jump: when she saw him, she smiled forcefully.
"Ah, Roran. What can we do for you?"
"I wished, my lady, to ask if you knew the whereabouts of my cousin."
The smile slid from Nasuada's scowling face, and she turned away from him. "He is on the mountain." She told him in a flat tone. Roran, confused at her displeasure, bowed and made to back away. "With Arya."
Roran's eyes widened, and he followed her gaze upwards in the direction of the mountain side lake, hidden- although he could not see that far- by a small clump of trees.
"Oh."
For a few moments- minutes, really- Eragon was blissfully happy. More happy than he had ever been. Because the woman he had loved for so long, the woman who had lead him so far, was finally right beside him.
Kissing him.
And for a few minutes, Arya, too, was joyfully complete. She ignored the nagging voice at the back of her mind- a voice that sounded uncannily like her mother's- and concentrated on nothing but the Rider before her, and how happy she was. Happier than, although it pained her to admit it, she had ever felt- even during her time with Faolin. She swept aside the guilt that suddenly possessed her.
When the nagging voice's murmurs turned to shrieks, she could no longer ignore it; with a gasp, she pulled her lips from those that belonged to Eragon. He wore a delighted smile upon his face, and it broke her heart to know that she must soon be the one to remove such a decadent smile from his handsome face. She did not have to wait: when he noticed her pained expression, the smile slid away quickly and his expression of elation turned to one of worry, fear and outright confusion.
"Arya?" He asked hesitantly, "is something wrong?"
She wiped the pain from his face- he couldn't be allowed to know how much this hurt her- and closed her eyes. It was easier that way. "This is wrong."
He did not speak for a long while, but Arya resisted the urge to open her eyes. She could only guess at the emotions that crossed his elf-like face- hurt, confusion, pain…
"Wrong?" His polite tone made Arya wince; in his voice she found only the slightest hint of pain she had feared.
"Yes." Arya did not bother to replicate the Rider's polite tone- instead, she put no emotion whatsoever into her voice, giving it a flat, dead quality.
"How so?" He used the same polite voice, but this time more anger seeped into it. Although his anger stung Arya like a wasp, it made it easier- somehow- for her to hurt him. It hurt her less.
"Just look at us!" She burst out, and fought to control the self-loathing and pain that made her usually silken voice waver. "An elf and a human- that is not right. You should be with one of your own kind."
"You seem to forget, Arya-elda" –the use of Arya's formal name made her cringe- "but I am no ordinary human. I, unlike others among my race, shall live forever. What use is it if I take a mate that is mortal when she should die so long before I? It would only cause me unnecessary heart ache."
Barzul, Arya cursed violently. He is right, of course… fishing desperately for arguments, Arya countered him weakly. "You could take another wife when the first had died."
"I am not that sort of man, Arya! You know that."
Yes, of course… the ever virtuous Eragon. She did not think it harshly- quite the opposite; this quality had been one she had always admired of Eragon, and indeed envied. She pressed on; "I am the only heir to my race's throne. The elves would expect me to take an elvin mate."
This quieted him- as educated as Eragon was, he did not indeed know if this were true. A grim sort of satisfaction swept through Arya when she realized that her victory was near, dulled by the pain that this victory brought her. When Eragon spoke again, he abandoned the polite tone and formalities, allowing his pain to show. "You are the only one I want."
Trying to disguise the flutter of her heart that those words brought about, Arya opened her eyes now, her face as cold as she could possibly could arrange it, and her resolve weakened considerably at the sight of the usually strong Rider stood before her with unashamed tears in his eyes. She looked not into those wet-rimmed eyes but at the trees above his head as she rejected him coldly. "Do I have to remind you that it is not the other way around?"
Her words had an immediate effect; Eragon stumbled backwards, and Arya refrained from weeping as the pain on his handsome, elfish face became almost unbearable. Soon, he regained control of his emotions and his face was as unreadable as Arya's.
"Leave."
"Of course."
Eragon turned and walked without hesitating toward the clearing where Saphira was, at that very moment, landing. Arya waited until he had vanished from sight and she saw Saphira flying far above the mountain to collapse upon the ground. She pulled her knees into her chest and hugged them tightly as tears spilled onto her cheeks. She showed no restraint to the emotions that shook her whole frame as she thought bitterly, for you, mother.
Wiol ono.
AN: Hope you liked it! Now, I've been asked a few questions and I thought I should answer them, so here we are:
Are you not going to finish the old Drottningu?
YES, but as this re-write, and not the old one. The plot got a little squiffy, so I thought I'd right it :)
Why do you change POV so much? And when you do, why do you not make some sort of indication that it has changed?
I change because I want to. Savvy? And as for indications, I put a line in between each character change but usually edits them out. How annoying.
If you have any more questions, don't hesitate to ask them!
Love as always,
Arya xxxxx
