Hi guys! Sorry I took so long and it would've taken longer but I've got the flu today and I had little else to do but finish this. Hopefully it will have been worth the wait!
Remember to read Switching Lanes and Half Breed-that is if they do indeed update. Well, I guess I'm not one to talk, am I?
So, here goes my second longest chapter yet...
Though the sun was now well on its way to reaching its zenith, it was not warm in the desert. Nevertheless, Arya was drenched in sweat.
It took her several moments to realize that it had all been a dream. She wasn't really in a dark palace with a dark figure sitting on a dark throne. She was, in fact, still sitting on Firnen's back. Looking below she could see that his wings continued to beat slowly and steadily and below that the endless desert still stretched, harsh and unforgiving, for as far as she could see.
"Arya? Are you okay?"
Relief flooded through Arya as she Firnen him enter her mind. It was confirmation: she was safe.
"Are you okay?"
After several seconds, Arya managed a slight nod. "Just a dream."
Firnen was silent for several seconds, and a feeling of confusion filled his mind. He hadn't seen the nightmare. Just like before.
"It was another vision again, wasn't it?"
"I-I think so. Not a good one. There...there was this room...There was a Ra'zac there...And...another..."
Arya couldn't say who it was. She'd known exactly who the cloaked man had been, but she was too terrified and confused to talk about it, even to Firnen. It disturbed her in a way nothing had before. It was just wrong.
"Arya..."
"Firnen, I really can't." Arya said.
"Who was this man? Why did he scare you so much?"
Arya shook her head. She could tell Firnen felt worried for her, even a little exasperated, but he let the topic drop. At least he understood her that much.
He also understood that the man's face did indeed scare her, perhaps more than anything she could remember, and she had seen some scary things. But it didn't scare her for the normal reasons. It scared her because she knew that man, and she knew she shouldn't be seeing him as evil. She couldn't help it though.
It scared her even more that what she'd been seeing could have been completely real and the man really was evil. The thought made her feel cold and sick. How could that be? He wasn't like that.
"Arya...I know you don't want to discuss it, but will you at least allow me to view your memories?"
Arya knew he was right, even though she expected that having Firnen's focus on them would bring them to the front of her mind. She mentally nodded.
Firnen reached tentatively into her mind, searching her memories of the vision. When he finished, she could feel a sense of disquiet in his mind.
"Arya..." he began gently. "I did not think it important enough to bring up before, but the memories of him you have shared with me have often felt...dark to me, as if something was lurking under the surface."
"What, are you saying you think he's evil?" If Arya had been saying it out loud she would have choked on the words.
"No," replied Firnen, "I am simply telling you what my instincts have told me. I know far less about him than you do, and what I'm saying is based only on impressions. As I said, I wouldn't have even mentioned it if you hadn't seen these things."
"Because you didn't think them significant, or because you thought I'd be upset?"
"Both." Said Firnen simply.
Arya took several deep, calming breaths and started counting to ten; a technique her father had taught her when she was small.
"I-I don't know Firnen. Maybe what I'm seeing is symbolic or maybe I'm actually...seeing real things." Eragon had told her about thing he'd seen in visions once; things that had come true. "Maybe I'm even seeing the future." She finished.
Firnen nodded mentally. "I agree; we don't know enough about these visions of yours yet to guess their meaning. We do, however, need to think about their implications. He said he'd meet you at Tronjheim?"
"Yes." She said. "Either he assumed I'd go there or...he has other ways of knowing."
"He...knows you well. All things considered, both possibilities seem quite plausible." Said Firnen.
Arya knew he was right.
"Whoever that was...he was extremely powerful. Do you think we should still go to Tronjheim?" Arya asked.
"I don't see that we have a choice if we want some answers. I assume that Orik will be present at the council. He may be able to tell us some things about our dwarven enemies, but I feel that we must go to Tronjheim to find all the answers we need. We will face dangers when we get to them."
Arya nodded. Wanting to change the subject, she scanned the horizon again. "So, what happened while I was out?"
"Well," said Firnen, "we flew over some desert."
Arya smiled. "Do you know how long we have left to go?"
"I'd say I'll be able to make it tomorrow morning if I push myself, but it'll probably be midday considering the weather won't help matters and my energy levels aren't getting any higher."
Concern filled Arya. She knew that Firnen was tired. Could he make it through another whole day with the weather likely to turn stormy at any moment?
"Will you be okay?" she asked.
"Of course I will." Said Firnen, though she could hear a note of doubt in his voice. He was trying to sound optimistic for her sake.
"Will you be alright?" he returned.
"Of course I will; I'm not the one who has to carry both of us across this wasteland." But Arya knew that wasn't what he meant. Her energy hadn't even come close to returning to full strength. If she tried to keep that spell up again she was likely to die of exhaustion without realizing it, and if she didn't she ran the risk of freezing.
But Firnen said none of these things. Arya was glad he didn't. He was the one doing the work; all she had to do was sit tight on his back and stay warm.
"You make it sound so easy when you're contemplating." Put in Firnen. "If I can find some sort of shelter tonight, will you consider resting there?"
Arya's immediate thought was 'no.' They didn't have time to lose. But then she thought of how she had come so close to death the previous night. What if she really did die during the coming night? Who would save Eragon then?
But Arya knew she wouldn't. Eragon needed her, and whatever happened she was going to come through for him. Whether a foe stuck her down on the way or not, she wasn't going to die during the journey because of the elements. Of that she was certain.
"Perhaps." She said.
The rest of the journey was, needless to say, completely miserable. The rain escalated as the day drew on, coming down heavily during the night. Thunder boomed, the sound seeming to draw closer with every crash. Lightning lit up the sky for a fraction of a second at the time, revealing flashes of the landscape beneath them. There wasn't much to see.
To keep her mind off the creeping chill and the sense that the storm was literally rolling in to get her, she tried to observe what she could about the landscape beneath them. As they flew on into the night, sparse vegetation began to appear.
Firnen was struggling on, despite the raging winds. He seemed just as determined as she was, for which she admired him. He was putting himself through horrible things to help her save a person he barely new.
"You aren't thinking it through." Said Firnen. His voice had its usual note of jesting, but Arya could tell he was extremely weary. "Firstly, our bond means that your feelings for him rub off on me to a certain extent. If, for example, you absolutely hated him, I would naturally feel ill towards him as well, regardless of my own observations about his character. Besides that, he seems to make you happy, and that's a good enough motive for me as any."
Arya felt touched by that sentiment, but whenever they discussed Eragon feelings of sadness and fear would always surface, so she decided to change the subject.
"Your eyes are better than mine in the dark." She said. "Have you seen any shelter down there?"
"No." Said Firnen.
"Will you be al-"
"Of course I will." Said Firnen, sounding slightly hurt. "I am a dragon, am I not?"
"This journey is difficult even for a dragon." Arya countered. "Since I'm not doing much up here, allow me to lend you some strength."
Grudgingly, Firnen agreed and allowed her to share a portion of her energy with him. Now Arya could add exhaustion to the list of things that were making her miserable.
Arya stayed awake all that night, partly because going to sleep while feeding Firnen energy would be dangerous and partly because she felt obliged to keep him company. Firnen protested against this several times, urging her to get a few hours of rest. Naturally, she refused.
The night dragged on and on, and the storm dragged closer and closer. They had several very close calls with lightning; one time it blasted the air only a few metres to their side. The sound of thunder deafened Arya for several minutes. They then spent a good amount of time attempting to devise wards for both the thunder and the accompanying blast of energy. Deflecting a lightning bolt would not be easy given their current energy levels, but at least they might still be alive if they did.
The wind tore at Firnen's wings so hard that at some points he was completely unable to move forward. The storm blew them this way and that, with Firnen struggling to stay in the air and Arya struggling not to fall off.
"We need to land!" said Arya.
"Can't!" replied Firnen, who had just been blasted off course by a particularly powerful gust of wind.
Arya wasn't sure how long they continued like that, or where the wind eventually took them. For all she knew they'd end up on the wrong side of the desert once it was all over. If they hadn't crashed by then.
Firnen's strength was seriously flagging now, with the effort to stay upright taking far more energy than the push forward ever had. Several times they flipped right over, and several more Arya found herself hanging down on one side of the saddle, her head the wrong way up and her desperate screams lost in the wind.
Arya knew they couldn't have taken much more by the time the storm began to abate. She was completely soaked, shaken by the near-death experiences and exhausted from keeping Firnen in the air all night. But she was alive.
As the pale glow of dawn began to fill the world, Firnen and she surveyed their surroundings. There were a few shrubs and bushes and other desert plants scattered about the place, which meant they were coming to the edge of the great desert. Still, the wind was whipping the sand about and there was no shelter. Landing wasn't an option.
So they pressed on. Firnen's sense of direction hadn't failed him, and he seemed to know roughly which way they should go. Arya on the other hand was completely disoriented, but she didn't question Firnen. It wasn't like she had a better idea.
The sun had risen fully when they started to see signs that they were leaving the desert. They began to see trees on the horizon. Small rivers ran through the landscape below. They even spotted a few villages.
"Civilization." Said Arya with a profound sense of relief.
The change in scenery did much to lift both of their spirits. They pressed on with renewed vigour.
Arya ate and drank to replenish her energy, as well as taking a few sizable gulps of faelneriv. Feeling much better, she allowed herself to put more energy into Firnen, and they picked up speed.
The wind had died down to a few playful gusts, which seemed almost relaxing as they caught Arya's face. Thankfully, the black clouds seemed to be moving off in another direction. Finally, they had some peace.
It wasn't long before Illeria came into sight, as a small smudge on the horizon. Arya was a little disheartened to see that black storm clouds rolling in over the city, but it wouldn't really matter once they were down on the ground.
It took them a little over another hour to reach the city. Strong winds buffeted them, but did little to hinder Firnen as he soared over the walls towards the Citadel, which had been rebuilt and now looked decidedly less ominous and evil.
Arya had a chance to observe the city and its people as they made their way up to the shelf on which the citadel stood.
On the up side, the streets were clean and all of the houses and shops all looked in good repair: a far cry from the days of Galbatorix's tyranny. To most of her people this would have mattered little: why should they care about the general wellbeing of a race so driven by their passions; so easily swayed to evil?
But Arya, who had worked with the humans for over seventy years, saw them in a different light. Their passions, which were often considered to be volatile and dangerous, could also be a source of great strength of character. And, while they could easily be swayed by offers of wealth or power, the elves, in truth, weren't so different. They were just more subtle about it. In this respect Arya even preferred the humans: they may not always be honest but they were, at least, not good at deception.
Besides, they could also be extremely moral. Humans, who were often considered to be weak by other members of her race, could also be far stronger in their morals and beliefs: never wavering in their ideals, no matter the cost.
"Forgive me, Arya, for I have much less experience in the matter than you, but that does not seem to me a wholly accurate description of their race. Your assessments seem to be based on your more recent experiences, and not all of them."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, you are describing not the entire human race, but rather one human in particular."
Arya wanted to argue, but she knew that he was right. She just couldn't stop thinking about him, even subconsciously.
"Your feelings on the matter seem remarkably deep. Why have you not acted on them sooner?"
"I-" Arya wanted to say something like it wouldn't have been proper or it wasn't the right time, but Firnen would have known she was lying anyway. In truth, she knew why. She had spent so long trying to bury her feelings; trying to hide them away, that she had even hid them from herself, so that by the time she'd found them it had been too late.
"Arya, I know what you're thinking and I believe you are right. You must realize that whatever your reasons may have been, that kind of thing is bad for you. Burying your feelings that deeply will never help."
"I know." She said.
"Then promise me you will never do it again. For your sake, please promise me you won't do that to yourself again. You think so highly of Eragon, perhaps you should try to be a little more like him."
It wasn't long until they reached the citadel. Arya dismounted, and, seeing who they were, the guards immediately opened the gates. One stepped through to meet them, seeming incredibly nervous. With much bowing to the both of them, he explained that the council was to begin the next day. The other leaders were already present, save for King Orrin of Surda and Grimrr Halfpaw of the werecats, who were to arrive that night.
"The queen will be delighted to know you are here, my lady. Regis, please inform the queen that our guest has arrived. Please come with me, my lady, and I shall show you to your quarters."
The guard who had spoken walked in front, with Arya and Firnen behind him, and two more guards bringing up the rear. Arya could feel the men's eyes on her back: something she did not appreciate.
"One of the perks of being an elven queen in a human city." Said Firnen.
"It's not a good thing! It makes me feel uncomfortable."
"You're just saying that. I know you love their attention really."
"No, I don't!"
Soon enough they had reached the place where they would be staying: the city's dragon keep, as the guard leading them called it. The hall itself was built into the surrounding stone, with several huge enclaves for dragons to sleep in and smaller side rooms that were presumably meant for the riders.
"If you wish for more comfortable quarters, my lady, please do not hesitate to ask." Arya had a feeling that by 'comfortable' he meant 'queenly.' "But the queen seemed to think you would prefer this."
Arya smiled. "Your queen knows me well. These quarters will be more than satisfactory."
The guard nodded. "There is already food here for your dragon," (Firnen snorted out smoke at being called that and the guard broke into a coughing fit, though he kept facing her the whole time.) "and you may request food for yourself by contacting the kitchen via the scrying mirror."
"Thank you, you have been very helpful." She said. The guard bowed, looking very pleased with himself, and then left along with his two companions.
"See? She liked me." The lead guard was whispering at a volume a normal human woman wouldn't be able to hear at that distance.
"Oh, get over yourself, she wasn't the least bit interested in you." Said one of his companions.
"Elves are very subtle!" the leader replied knowingly. "They don't show much emotion on the outside. The trick is to do just the same-"
Arya was finding it harder to concentrate on what they were saying now due to the fact Firnen's mental laughter was completely filling her mind.
"You know," he began slyly.
"Oh, don't even think about it!" Arya cut in.
Feeling decidedly flustered and quite annoyed, turned and walked wordlessly towards her new quarters.
Arya woke late the next morning, something that really annoyed her. She was usually an early riser: she loved the peacefulness the early morning offered her; it gave her a chance to relax a while before she was invariably pulled down into another tedious day of maddeningly subtle politics.
She dressed in her black travelling leathers, smiling at the thought of how Dathedr's face would look if he saw her in them before she attended a meeting. Nasuada would probably also disapprove, which gave her another incentive.
She contacted the kitchens and requested breakfast. Several minutes later, three servants entered her quarters carrying as much food as their human strength would allow. How they expected her to eat all of it, she didn't know, but she was appreciative of the lack of meat on the multitude of plates.
"Would you like to share some of this?" she asked Firnen.
"Not a chance! It'd make me fat! Imagine what Saphira would think!" They both laughed.
Arya tried her best to eat what they'd bought for her. The servants had laid out a wide variety of vegetarian food: bread, cheese, fruits and a delicious soup. She did her best to eat it all, but barely got through half.
A short while later, a page boy arrived to inform her that the council had been called into session and gave her directions to the meeting room.
"I shall fly out to hunt." Said Firnen. "I haven't eaten for too long."
"Be careful." Said Arya. "From what I can hear those storms haven't given up."
"Do not worry for me." Said Firnen. "After all, it's you who's going to be facing several hours stuck in a room with Nasuada."
"Her council were always boring." Said Arya. "But I'll survive. Good luck." And with that, Firnen took off, flying up through where the roof should be and into the stormy sky.
Soon after, Arya left the dragon keep where they had been staying and headed for the meeting room.
The walk to the meeting room took about five minutes. She made her way briskly through the wide corridors and halls, attracting the attention of more than a few human men as she went (something that annoyed her but amused Firnen no end.)
The place was unrecognisable compared to how it had looked during Galbatorix reign. Colourful tapestries hung from the walls and every room was well lit. She almost stopped to look at some of the designs embroidered and engraved around her: they mainly showed heroic scenes from the war. The images were overly-romanticised but fairly accurate.
The looks on the faces of the humans around her did not reflect the architecture though. Most were grim and troubled. Arya wondered what the humans made of the unnatural events that had been occurring lately. Many would probably believe it to be the anger of their gods, and were wondering what they had done to displease the deities. Even those who didn't had every reason to be concerned. Whatever was happening, it wasn't good. Even the humans could see that.
Soon enough though, she had reached a grand set of oak double doors. Two men wearing polished mail armour and carrying long spears stood by either side. They recognised her immediately and pulled the doors open without a word.
The room beyond them was large and spacious, with a high ceiling and several tall windows which filled the room with what daylight there was to be had under the heavy cloud cover. In the middle of the room was a long table at which sat five figures whom she immediately recognized. King Orrin sat tall and proud at one end of the table, wine glass in hand. Opposite him was Queen Nasuada, looking regal as ever. King Orik's legs dangled well above the floor with Grimrr Halfpaw lounging in cat form on a stool beside him. Opposite them sat Nar Garzhvog, looking as brutish and frightening as ever. Besides him was an empty chair Arya assumed was for her.
"Ah, Queen Arya! Welcome to my hall!" said Nasuada, putting a slight emphasis on the word my. Orik turned to greet her. His face looked grave and tired. "Queen Arya." He said.
"Greetings, Herndall." Rumbled Nar garzhvog.
"You're late." Said Orrin. "I suppose it's all we can expect from you elves, though. What does it matter to you if you keep the rest of us mere mortals waiting?"
"King Orrin." She replied cooly. "Still drunk as ever, I see." Orrin recoiled, looking outraged. He opened his mouth to retort, thought better of it, and settled to fill it with wine instead.
Grimmr Halpaw said nothing.
"I think what King Orrin is trying to say," said Nasuada, looking pointedly at the Surdan King, "is 'please join us.'
Orrin shrugged and took another swig of wine.
"Don't mind him." Said Grimrr Halfpaw . "I don't think he's been sober for a good few months now."
Arya made her way to her seat by Nar Garzhvog's side, trying to keep her head held high and proudly so as not to appear weak.
"I trust your and Firnen's stay last night was comfortable?"
"Indeed, it was." Said Arya. "Thank you for providing such excellent accommodation for us."
"Speaking of the two of you, where is your mighty dragon now?" asked King Orrin.
Firnen, who had been listening quietly the whole time, immediately took action. Using Arya's mind a as a bridge, he said to all of the people in the room "I apologize for my absence, great king, but I am incredibly hungry right now. I'll be with you as soon as I've finished eating this incredibly brash and annoying little creature I've just come across." Everyone else in the room, including Arya, stifled laughed, but Arya didn't think Orrin caught on.
"Well," said Nasuada hurriedly before Orrin could work it out, "let's get to the point. We are here to discuss this darkness which seems to be gathering."
"Aye." Said Orik. "We have all felt it."
"Except maybe Orrin." Said Firnen to Arya. "He's probably been too drunk to notice." Arya had to fight hard not to crack a smile.
"Arya, if you will?"
"Well," said Arya, "I wish I had better things to report, but I come instead with grave news."(at this, king Orrin grumbled something about bringers of bad news and elves that Arya didn't quite make out due to the slurring of his words.) "I am sure you all know that...That Lord Eragon is missing. That he was kidnapped, by members of a dwarven clan known as Az Sweldn Rak Anhun." Everyone nodded gravely, and Arya saw Orik clench his fists under the table. "Well...that's not all. We've lost contact with New Vrorengard."
Several things happened at once. Orrin slammed down his glass and swore, Nar Garzhvog let out a huge roar of surprise that made Arya flinch and Orik's face turned deathly pale.
"Are you saying," said Orrin, with the tone of a man desperately trying to contain his fury, "that our protecters aren't able to help us?"
"No." Said Arya levelly. "I am saying that we can't contact them. The day before I left Blodgharm and several others set out to look for Lord Eragon in the surrounding islands. I have tried to contact him with a scrying mirror but I have had no success."
"Well, are you sure your mirror isn't just faulty?" asked Orrin.
"It was working just fine when Queen Nasuada contacted me." Replied Arya emotionlessly. "I don't know why we cannot speak to Blodgharm, but I have sent some people to investigate."
"Well," said Orrin, "why weren't we informed? Didn't we have a right to know?"
"I thought," said Nasuada coolly, "that it would be best for us to gather and discuss the matter amongst ourselves, to avoid the spread of...rumours. I am sure you are well aware of how things can be...distorted in the telling." From the sour look on Orrin's face, Arya deduced that he knew a lot about rumours.
"Something tells me he's been the subject of a few." Said Firnen.
"I wonder how many are true?" said Arya.
"Are you suggesting," said Orrin, "that I would allow such information to become common knowledge?"
"Not at all, King Orrin." Said Nasuada. "But, as I'm sure you understand, things can be overheard." That shut him up, for some reason.
"So," said Grimmr Halfpaw, addressing Arya but allowing the mental communication to be heard by everyone present, "are you suggesting that New Vrorengard has been destroyed?"
Nar Garzhvog shook his head. "Firesword is a great warchief. But his students...they are young and inexperienced. Our two riders had only just completed the rite of passage. Of the elf-warriors, I cannot say."
"The elves who founded New Vrorengard with Lord Eragon were all exceptional spellcasters." Said Arya. "However, from what Blodhgarm told me, these dwarves are dangerous, even to them. One of their number was killed during Lord Eragon's kidnap."
Orik nodded. "They have been known to use...enchanted weapons to deadly effect in the past. However, I have seen your elven spellcasters in battle. Without the element of surprise on their side, I doubt the dwarves could have actually defeated them."
Arya was taken aback. She had rarely heard a dwarf praise her kind for anything.
"The dwarf shows unusual objectiveness." Agreed Firnen.
"Perhaps not." Said Arya carefully. "But there is more."
Orrin cocked an eyebrow. "Of course there is." He said.
"While we were leaving Du Weldenvarden," said Arya, "We were attacked. By...Ra'zac and Lethbraka."
"WHAT?" roared Orrin. Garzhvog growled. Orik's face turned from pale to grey. Even Grimrr finally started to take an interest.
"That's impossible." Said Orrin after a few seconds of silence. "You saw the last of their race destroyed yourself."
"And I also heard Galbatorix say that there were more that he hadn't given to the priests of Helgrind." Replied Arya angrily.
"Ho-how many?" asked Orik. She was amazed at how shaken the usually gruff and loud dwarf's voice sounded.
"Five Ra'zac." She said. "And two Lethbraka." There was a stunned silence.
"This... This is grave news indeed." Said Orik.
"It is indeed troubling." Said Nasuada. "And I have a feeling it's all linked. Perhaps a dwarven clan could not do serious damage to New Vrorengard, but these Ra'zac...they are another matter."
"Indeed they are." Said a vaguely familiar voice. She turned around and almost jumped out of her seat in shock. Standing there, framed in the double doorway with two guards slumped on the floor behind him, was Murtagh.
