AN: I know my last chapter was short, but you could see my reasons. Which I will not mention again unless forced to. Onto happier days, this chapter will be longer to make up for it. My gift to you all to enjoy for Christmas and New Year's Day. I know I'm a little late but I'm a strong believer in that good old saying. "It's not how expensive or extravagant a gift is or even whether it is even given on time. It is the thought put behind it and the spirit in which we give it." An old family saying which I have found myself living by, giving poems and gifts I made myself or gifts I spent a long time saving for and put a lot of thought into. Not just giving something random.
So I persevere to give you something of value, which I know you will all enjoy.
Knowing that I put my heart and soul into making it this cold gloomy night.
As I continue this story about our beloved princess and her farm boy.
And hope that all you smile, in enjoyment and delight.
Silverwing
WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS TORTURE SCENES! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
Elven Lord: Thank you that means more to me than you will ever realise. Three times really, well I guess it was quite detailed. It's one of my personality traits, I'm quite meticulous. I wanted to make sure I covered everything, just like I do with everyone else here. Everyone receives an equal response. You are worth my time, whether you believe it or not… I do. Short for suspense, plus I wanted to get my reply out as soon as possible, it had been too long already. Do you want me to explain the Shades blood a little more? I left it fairly vague as there are still surprises in that regard, but I may be able to push it a little further without giving too much away. Thank you my friend. And yes you were first, well done.
Kagega: Not everything is falling into place. No one is better yet. Hm I agree seems like ants, but not Razac they travel in twos.
MJ: Really you too. (Sigh), Ok. I see little point in you telling me my story is terrible without telling me what you believe is wrong with it and how to improve it. Seems to just be a lame and pointless attempt at an insult. That is particularly frowned upon here at this site. I will make an exception with you, you're probably new. There is no need to stoop to such a low level as insults to get your point across. That's what bullies do. Just tell me what is wrong. Or better yet write your own story and prove me wrong. But if you don't like this story there is no need for you to continue reading it or even review it. So go and enjoy yourself, find a story that you like and help them improve it. Have some fun, that is what this site is all about. If you can't understand that just leave. This is no place for you.
Ancient language = "Hello"
Common Talk = "Hello"
Mental Talk/Thought = "Hello"
Chapter 8: Attached at the Hip
A pain that Eragon had felt several times before at seeing his loved ones die, but not nearly as intense as this. Not nearly as painful, as raw a wound heart break was. It was as if his heart which belonged to Her was going with her. And if he was honest with himself at that moment Eragon was happy She was taking it. But he would not let Her die, he would never let Her die without a fight and she had been fighting far too long without him by her side. As she had always been by his. Finally, finally he got to support and save his love himself, rather than she always saving him. How ironic, a princess saving a dragon rider, when the stories of old had always told it the other way around. Oh how wrong they were, how a fool they were to think that a princess would not be able to defend herself. She was more likely to save the rider than him save her. But this did not matter to Eragon, his entire being his existence at that instant all he saw was Her. At this moment something awakened within him, a warmth that spread from his heart through his body and to the tips of his fingers, toes and head. A warmth that was immediately noticed by the other occupants of the tent, as it seemed to radiate from his entire being. Brushing against them both physically and mentally. Looking at Eragon these dark slaves for the first time knew fear. His body seemed to be coated in blue flames licking around his body as if he was ever so softly burning from the inside. Easily seen because of the heavy darkness veiling the tent.
The woman stepped forward noticing him, however not recognising him as his head was shaded in darkness and lowered. They attempted to seduce him, gain his attention, anything to get a reaction as they perceived him as a threat. However he just stood there. With all there flirtatious words and provocative glimpses of flesh as they tried to get close for a kiss he did not react. Several got close, but maybe too close. Eragon raised his head, there attempts falling on deaf ears. All Eragon heard was Arya as she screamed, as if she was calling to him. Begging him to make it stop, and stop it he would. In quick succession Eragon stuck the two elves in front of him using his hands and feet effectively knocking them unconscious. Using his momentum Eragon pushed forward and reached the other two woman, who had already drawn their swords along with the other elves. However Eragon had not drawn his. Sidestepping the feint and intended attack of the elf in front of him Eragon unintentionally stoped the blade with his left arm, not feeling pain. He did not notice as the blade was dropped from the pain the female elf had experienced from holding the sword. Glowing a deep blue as if melted by extreme heat or even the lack of injury it produced on Eragon's arm. As he knocked her head hard against the soul of his right hand leaving himself open to the elf behind him. Who at that time had swung her sword and hit Eragon's back, the strength behind the blow would have killed him. Although as the blade connected with what seemed to be Eragon the elven sword melted at each point of contact during the swing. Leaving the elf with half a sword, instead of a dead Eragon. Hearing her behind him Eragon pivoted his body and struck out with his leg, connecting with her stomach and winding her. Eragon then latched onto her wrist holding her half a sword and using the whiplash of his kick to strike her across the head with the pommel of her own sword.
Taking her sword from her, holding it by the blade Eragon stuck at the first male elf closest to him with his open hand. However this elf was an exception fighter and blocked the attack quickly and swung his sword back intending to counter. However Eragon was anticipating this, seeing the experience in the elf's stance. Eragon had maintained a grip on the sword, using the swings momentum to pull the elf to the ground with his body weight to unbalance him. Then using that same momentum Eragon struck the elf with his knee across his temple. Diving forward into a roll Eragon dodged the killing strike from the elf beside him. At the same time he threw the wreaked sword in his hand at the elf's abdomen. He collapsed in pain, completely winded, but Eragon knew the elf would regain his senses soon. Elves were stronger than that, he had no doubt. The final elf, realising his predicament opens his mouth to call for help. But Eragon is too far away to successfully hit him before he speaks or even voice a spell as the guards outside would hear him undoubtedly. His mind completely focused on the thought of stoping the elf from speaking. Eragon's sub-consciously in his desperation, draws on magic to aid him. Eragon reached out to the elf, running towards him, at that moment his magic took effect. From his hand projected, nothing... The elf seemed to smile in victory as his lips formed the words to call for help. However upon breathing the elf collapsed, shock riddled his face before he fell unconscious. Eragon had prevented him from breathing, therefore removing his ability to speak, the lack of air drove him to unconsciousness. But thankfully not death. Turning towards the winded elf Eragon quickly reached over and covered his mouth, silencing him. Upon extended contact with Eragon's burning skin, the elf seemed to shake. Then a dark mist drifted off of his body as if by a morning breeze and his eyes closed as he fell into a deep slumber.
Eragon turned and looked at the love of his life, and his demeanour relaxed, with it his burning vanished. Never noticed by him from the start, however his malice and rage at what the Shades blood was doing to her was eating away at him. But it was just him and her now, Eragon could finally help her. They would not be disturbed. Arya still shook and silently screamed, the remnants of the wards around her from the elves still held her. He would not remove them, that would get him discovered, however he removed the wards restricting her movement. Eragon than stepped closer to her, the wards were designed to work from a distance not from up close. The closer Eragon got the more he heard, her screams were pained and desperate. Pleading. Her scent was tainted with blood and the foul stench of the Shade's Blood, but it was there. Her unique scent of crushed pine needles. This heartened him she was still herself, for the time being. Eragon reached forward timidly and placed a hand on Arya's. At that moment she sniffed the air strongly, suddenly her entire demeanour changed, Arya's screaming stopped instantly. As if she had suddenly realised something, and her convulsions subsided, but didn't stop completely. Her face showed open shock, suspicion, pain and a hidden hope behind it all. Eragon leaned forward and spoke in soothing tones to her, a tone that until then he had reserved for Saphira alone.
"It's ok, it's me, it's Eragon, you're safe. You told me once that you took comfort in thinking of the gardens of Tialdarí Hall. Well now I offer you the next best thing as we are too far away. I offer you my scent, which I'm told smells just like the gardens, blown to you by a fresh ocean breeze. For your comfort and happiness, so keep thinking of the gardens of Tialdarí Hall and I'm sure you will be fine."
Arya seemed to relax at his words and breathed in deeply. Inhaling his scent, she was still in pain he could see it in her face. But it was no longer extreme, perhaps she realised that what she was seeing was a hallucination. Or that whatever she was seeing, she was safe. Eragon wasn't given much time to ponder which, as Arya either by conscious or unconscious thought did something he would never have expect her to do. Using his hand a focal point Arya swung her body onto Eragon's. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Her entire body was hugging his tightly, painfully tightly. But what surprised Eragon the most was that she was completely trusting and giving herself to him. Her strong sense of independence had never enabled her to ask for help, except for two other instances. Around the camp fire and after they defeated Varaug together. But here she was leaning on him for support, not partially but completely. Squeezing him with all her might to take the pain away, but also as a lifeline as long as he was there she was safe. This meant everything to Eragon, that she trusted him so much. He would not betray her trust. So Eragon promised to the unconscious goddess hanging onto him for dear life.
"I won't betray your trust Arya, of that you have my word."
At this the final inches of space vanished between them as Arya's body completely relaxed into his. As if she had been waiting for him to say just that. Her head rested in the nook between his neck and shoulder. The remainder of her body pressed into his causing Eragon to blush, he was not used to such an intimate closeness with Arya. But he took control of himself, the last thing he wanted was to get distracted at such a crucial moment. Eragon needed to help Arya, but not just physically, mentally as well. She was suffering of that he was sure, he had to help her, no, needed to help her. So he did the only thing he could, he offered himself to her.
Instead of attempting to break into her mind as the elves were previously trying to do. Eragon did the opposite, he touched her mind as he had done many other times before. However this time it was different, Eragon not only touched her mind but softly caressed it, a gentle, fleeting touch. He refrained from touching her mind as he would if he was her lover. This was the touch of a friend offering his aid, and as an act of good will. So she knew without a doubt it was him, Eragon had brushed against her completely bare and she shivered against him as he did it. No protection around the area he had touched her, for that fleeting moment Eragon had hidden nothing from her as if she was Saphira. Arya was privy to everything, his thoughts, his worries, his emotions. Everything. Then Eragon withdrew ever so slightly, patiently waiting but within easy reach and still completely bare. Then he spoke, in whispered, measured, soothing tones into her ear.
"Arya I know of your strong feelings of independence, almost stubborn to a fault. Much like me. But this is something you cannot win on your own, this Shade's Blood can only be removed by someone else. So I offer you my aid, to save you from this pain."
Upon mentioned his aid to her Eragon again brushed against her as before, making sure she understood what he meant. Then withdrew again.
"I implore you consider bending your pride and let me help you. I swear anything I see will be strictly kept between us. Now I will wait for you, until you are ready."
At this Eragon moved right in front of her barriers, a hairs breath away from her. The strength behind her barriers was evident, he could see she had been strained as if a Shade had been trying to get in. Ironically he realised in a way one had. Still bare to her, Eragon looked over at her softly sleeping face. He reached across towards her face and her consciousness seemed to tense up completely, however he body didn't react. Right until he reached out and moved a stray lock of her hair behind one of her pointed ears. Her mind relaxed as if in relief that he had not struck her. He surprised himself then as a strong sense of protectiveness overcame Eragon along with his need to help her. Eragon managed to stop his strong feelings of love for her before they reached her barriers, but the other feelings, Eragon was too late. As his feelings struck her barriers, they seemed to crumble, as if they no longer wanted to remain. Eragon needed her to relax and trust him, so he did the only thing that came to mind. He reached across to her hair with his hands, and Arya's mind again tensed, at that Eragon stopped.
"Do not worry Arya, I'm just going to try and help you relax. I'm going to comb your hair with my hands. Nothing else."
At this Eragon received the first kind of response from Arya. Several memories were being used as the barrier between them, but it was as if she wanted him to see it. He saw as her mother crudely combed her hair, the pain it caused evident in the memory. Herself attempting to do it herself with no success, not able to reach everywhere leaving several dozen nots. Several other elves doing it as well all with pain from her, Durza cruelly pulling on her hair. Finally someone Eragon had not seen before holding her submissively doing something terrible to her while using her hair as a hand grip holding her in place. Her desperation to escape was obvious, but any more was hard to discern, the memory was blurred intentionally to hide what was happening. But Eragon understood, Arya didn't want to feel any more pain. She had enough to deal with as it was and there was a hidden layer of fear at how much it would hurt her. She would be powerless to stop it and she hated that feeling. Eager to reply Eragon picked several choice memories of himself combing woman's hair from his home, of the pleasure that was evident that it gave the woman emphasising to her the lack of pain he caused. Of the request made by Katrina to regularly comb several choice women's hair. Finally of the very recent elf he had combed her hair, where she had fallen asleep. Completely relaxed a smile on her face and Eragon walking off with her mirror Nasuada reflected back through it.
Eragon pressed against her barriers, hoping she would see and understand his message. He was experienced, and good at it, causing no pain and how each woman had come away more relaxed because of his skill in combing. Remaining against her barriers Eragon moved his hand towards her hair, this time her mind didn't tense. However he could still feel her uneasiness even if she didn't broadcast it to him. Eragon instead of blindly combing her hair, tested it to see how it was. Very messy it seemed that the days of her being unconscious had left her hair to go into a dishevelled state. Personally Eragon thought that either way her hair was always beautiful, especially when it was wild from her riding on dragon back or running or whatever else made her hair like that. Eragon then started to massage her scalp preparing it for the rigorous task of combing so she wouldn't feel pain. Eragon softly stroked her hair, using his other hand to prevent the pain from reaching her scalp, then passing through her hair softly checking for nots. Eragon did this much slower than he usually would making sure he missed nothing. Her hair was so soft, softer than the finest fabrics he was given by the elves for tunics and other clothing. It felt like flowing water running through his fingers. He persevered to treat it as such, it was a part of the precious person wrapped around his body. Her mind which Eragon could vaguely sense behind the barriers emanated a soft sense of pleasure, the barriers finally started to fall. No one had been so caring towards her hair, and perhaps even to her. But Eragon couldn't assume that, especially not of her. But the protectiveness he felt for her, and his need to help seeped through to Arya and he let it. The sincerity and strength of his feelings would be crystal clear to her. But what she would do he was not sure. At that moment Arya's barriers fell, her mind was chaos, her worst nightmares repeated over and over again. Eragon moved forward, and then hesitated on the verge of entering. He projected his thoughts into her mind,
"Only if you are sure…"
He still wanted this to be her choice, in response her mind opened fully to him. Just as he was open to her. Taking this response as admittance Eragon entered Arya's chaotic mind and was pulled into her torturous memories.
As one Arya and Eragon experienced Arya's most painful memories as they repeated themselves over and over again, however he persevered to separate himself from her. As a child losing their father, a vague and blurry memory from the past, but painful all the same, killed in a war that she couldn't remember. Eragon managed to separate himself enough to speak to her.
"He never left you, you carry a part of him everywhere you go."
The he was swept away into another. Then losing their mother, her countenance changing from a loving parent. Changed to someone who treated them with indifference and disdain, from losing her mate. Hurt them more than they would ever admit. Being banished from their home, never to walk there again. Eragon pulled with all his might and separated himself again.
"She loves you in her own way, trying to protect you from the fate that befell her mate. She seemed to regret her decision to banish you immensely."
Then again, before he even heard a reply Eragon was swept away again. Being forced into taking their cloths off at a young age by a delusional elf during their first experience of the Agaetí Blödhren. Forcibly held in a submissive position by their hair, they were not strong enough to get away. Not fast enough to run, but they fought all the while, screaming for help. Knowing that they needed to get away, quick. Eragon was so repulsed, he managed to separate himself from the memory before it really started the pain. Then Eragon forcibly shielded Arya from the pain and the unbelievable shame at what happened to her, the entire memory he shielded. Not allowing her to relive such a horrific nightmare ever again. Not allowing her to feel as the memory continued, not allowing the things that followed to damage her again. Not allowing the incredibly painful pulls on her hair and the disturbingly painful thrusts of something ramming into her. Eragon protected her, now knowing why she hated combing her hair, why it was so noted and wild and what that memory had been that was blurred. Knowing that consoling words would never help Arya as much as she needed. He instead did what he and Saphira exclusively did. Eragon sent her feelings of understanding, and consoling soothing feelings.
"He will never harm you again, of that you have my word."
And that was all he said, he could say nothing else without shaming her. Or promising something he knew he would never be able to keep. Eragon was thrust into a new memory, but unlike the last several, he was separate. Eragon wouldn't allow her to suffer any more and shield her where he could until he found the source, he couldn't quite think straight to do that yet. But he soon would be able to, he had to be able to.
Watching the memory as if from afar, Eragon watched as her companions and friends fell because of Durza. Eragon shielded her from what he could, mainly from the feeling of loss she felt. The loss of hope for a potential mate that she had never felt possible before. That didn't try and win her affections for her position or her beauty. But for who she was as a person.
"Any man would be lucky to have you. It is just that so far, none of them have been worthy of your affections, until him. You will find a mate Arya, of that I have no doubt."
Eragon was getting better he was now completely separate from Arya's painful memories rather than suffering them with her. He was especially pleased with himself, he could now protect her properly and remove the cause of the hallucination from her mind. He just needed to practice once more before he went looking. However the next memory he decided to shield from her at the very start as he recognised it, the cell was unmistakable. Gil'ead.
Durza was relentless in his torture methods, whipping her. Poking her body with hot irons, the amount of pain she felt was immense. Every moment was an hour. Every hour was a day and every day, an eternity. But still Arya did not waver, all she had left for living was her duty. Occasionally at her lowest points Arya had made vague plans along the lines of suicide. This scared Eragon to no end. However she had not the energy for anything. The only thing other than duty that kept her going was hope. Hope that the egg was safe and perhaps hatched for a Rider which would bring about the downfall of the Empire. That she had fought all these long years of her life. Arya persisted and existed through the torture sessions. She never said a word other than the screams that left her mouth on occasion. Arya remained stubbornly silent. But not only did Durza torture her physically, he tortured her mentally as well. Which Eragon was surprised to find she had left out of her descriptions when telling others of what she had suffered. The pain was constant and nigh on unbearable. Leaving no rest bite, as Durza required little to no rest and could torture her for days on end. But what torture Arya the most, was not the physical or mental pain. It was Durza's attacks at her pride. The taunts pertaining her inability to protect her companions, to save herself and complete her duty. This hurt the most. That is until Durza realise that.
Upon the last of her memories, in her last remaining memories of Gil'ead. Arya was subjected to the most shameful, disgraceful, torture, physically, mentally and degradingly possible. She was subjected to rape by Durza. In the past, Arya had been able to turn away the human men, however she couldn't turn away the shade. Thus he would pleasure himself with her for nights and days on end. Not only using himself, but blades, sticks and other extremely degrading objects on her. Eragon was forced to watch, happy that he was protecting her from this. But he could not stop the boiling, searing rage that emanated from his entire being. He wished with all his might that he had not killed the shade as quickly as he did, Durza needed to suffer, as painfully and as long as possible before he was begging to be killed. Eragon had to several times replay the memory of the horror and pain on Durza's face at Eragon's killing blow. Several times to calm himself slightly. Allowing himself in this one instance to feel satisfaction in a kill he had made.
Eragon could take no more. The pain Arya was forced to relive was… severe. Protecting her from all the bad memories, Eragon imparted a memory he had of flying on Saphira. He was reluctant to share such a joyous, private memory with anyone but Saphira. But she needed it more than he did and he was sure Saphira would understand. Arya needed to feel joy again. Eragon searched her consciousness, surprisingly similairly structure to his own, but he did not go anywhere that would breach her trust. Or enter private thoughts or feelings in memories. Eragon searched for the darkness. Then he found in, hidden deep in her mind, Eragon violently crushed the darkness. Extinguishing the darkness as he would turn a rock in his hand to dust, by closing his hand around it. However so violently that there was nothing, absolutely nothing left to drift in her mind and cause unnecessary pain. Eragon checked for what seemed like several hundred times just to make sure he got all of it, then if there was any more. He then slowly, as tenderly as he could Eragon withdrew from Arya's mind, attempting not to betray her privacy. She was still bare to him. Eragon left one stray thought however before leaving completely.
"Rest easy now, you are safe."
Never ending gratitude, emanated from Arya before her mind was walled off. However upon opening his eyes, Eragon watched in horror as Arya's soft breathing slowed and then stopped. Acting quickly Eragon lifted her head close to his. He would not let his love, his life die, not after all they had been through together. Eragon placed his lips against hers, breathing for her. Forcing the air into her body, then forcing it out. Several attempts at this and Arya was still not responding, his lips left hers, her body still limp, feeling his hope leave him. Eragon followed his instincts and did the one think it told him to. He smashed his lips against hers, kissing her with all the love, adoration and understanding he possessed. He kissed her hard and without mercy, his passion and instincts leading him. Eragon did the one last thing that came to his instincts pushed him to do, he squeezed her stomach hard while his lips were still connected. Suddenly Eragon felt her stomach retract as she forced something out of her, he lips seemed to move slightly against his as if in preparation. But Eragon did not relent, far from it he intensified what he was doing. Squeezing and kissing all the harder against her. Then as if his love for her had sucked the very evil out of her soul, her lips were forced open and Eragon as quick as lightning pointed her mouth away from both of them and towards the ground. Arya then retched out a black substance, which burned the ground killing everything around it. But Eragon didn't notice, he was still watching Arya. After she got rid of the substance, her strong breathing returned to its normal pace and Eragon was happy.
Getting off the chair, Arya still hanging tightly onto him, Eragon contacted Saphira.
"She is safe, I saved her."
Saphira's relief was obvious and she radiated happiness.
"Is it safe to come outside? I want to take Arya to my room."
"Why can you not leave her there?"
"No Saphira, I cannot in good conscious leave her here, especially now. But that doesn't matter, we are somewhat attached and I doubt that anyone could remove her from me at the moment."
"Why did you mate with her?"
Saphira teased, attempting to lighten his mood.
Eragon laughed.
"Hardly she grabbed hold of me for support. That is all."
"Then why are you blushing."
Saphira teased.
"How did you… "
Saphira's laughter echoed in his head.
"W-We are quite close at the moment."
Eragon said, his embarrassment increasing as he fully realised his situation. Saphira's laughter boomed in his mind. Making him smile despite himself.
"Can you please tell me it is safe to go back to our room Saphira. Is it night outside?"
Saphira took a while before she could respond, her laughter preventing her from doing so it was so strong.
"You are lucky little one, it is nightfall and there are no elves in the vicinity. Even the guards are asleep, perhaps when you freed Arya you free everyone else also."
"Yes that does seem likely."
Eragon walked outside and pasted the asleep guards and jumped onto Saphira's back. The sleeping goddess still curled against him. Seemed quite peaceful and was breathing deeply as if enjoying a proper sleep for the first time in weeks. In reality it had only been a few days. But she deserved it.
Saphira flew them quickly to their room in the castle and landed in the dragon hold as softly as possible as not to wake Arya. Or anyone else for that matter. Eragon climbed the stairs to his room and warded the doors and entrances so no one could enter. But that the door could only be opened from the inside. Then Eragon moved over to the bed and looked at the goddess in his arms, he would have to sleep with her there as her elven strength prevented him from removing her. Therefore he had great difficulty removing his shirt, as he could never seem to sleep with one on. Eragon then went and lied down on his back. Arya seemed to sense what he was doing and her body moved slightly to get more comfortable. However she did not release him as he had hoped. Instead she tightened her hold and snuggled closer to him. Her legs tangled between his tightly and her arms circled his waist, at least her body was not fully against him. But her head remained adamant in its position, right on top of his wildly beating heart. She did not seem to want to give up her pillow. His several attempts to move her failed, in the end she ended up closer to him than before with a small smile gracing her features. Thus Eragon admitted defeat, he knew he would never be able to change her mind, but he had never thought that that included her subconscious mind as well. Pulling the bed covers over them Eragon resigned himself to his sleep state, happy that for once he had saved Arya. Rather than she save him…
AN: And so begins my story. For real now, the board is out the pieces are in place. Time for the real story to start. This is just the beginning….
