(A/N: Kinda realized that a cliffhanger wasn't even plausible if I skip to Eragon it wouldn't make sense. I just had no idea how to continue it further. Well, until now that is. Here's the continuation of the last chapter, instead of an Eragon POV. I'm sorry, I kind of lied, no Murtagh yet. More OC's. Next chapter though I promise! Enjoy!)
Arya gathered her muscles into a bundle, her every sense alert for danger. Zar'roc slid soundlessly from its sheathe the wine red blade gleamed in the ruddy morning sunlight. Sending blood-red specks of light against the rich emerald of Fírnen's scales, Brom's face was set in a calm mask. Betraying not a single thought or emotion.
A few yards away Arya heard another rustling, a shuffling sound. The snap of a breaking branch. The cry of a far off bird. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw a flicker of movement, a low drumming sound filled her ears. Frantically she searched for the source of the sound, seeing that neither Brom nor Fírnen reacted to the drum, she panicked and almost charged into the woods. She realized then that the drumming was her heart, and tried to relax.
Before she could however, a few softly spoken words broke the stillness of the air, quiet as the wind. Brom suddenly relaxed his face, his body remaining tense and ready to fight. Again the words echoed in the air, this time a bit louder. It was the ancient language, she realized, although she wasn't sure to be relieved or even more frightened by the realization.
Arya could only make out every other word or so, but it sounded like a hesitant greeting. Which Brom responded to fervently.
"I am a friend. Brom is my name and-"
It was then the words changed and rose in volume and a new emotion colored them, anger. Seemingly instants later, Arya couldn't speak and she fell, wrapped in what felt like ropes, but when she looked down she saw none. She looked up to see Fírnen similarly bound in place. His eyes wide in fear and confusion. She reached out for him with her mind, only to be met with pain so severe she would have screamed had she been able too.
"NO!" Brom's voice cut through the air, Arya's eyes peeled open slowly and surprise struck her full on as she saw the old man was completely unaffected by the force holding her and Fírnen in place. Although his eyes were concerned.
"What are you doing? Show yourself craven!" he shouted. "This is Arya, the last free human Rider! And this is her dragon! They mean you no harm!"
Softer chanting answered him as the unknown persons wove spells into the air. Finally Brom shouted, still in the ancient language, "I am Brom, friend to you!"
The whisper soft words ceased and the air fell silent, the pressure lessened around Arya but didn't disperse completely. Words seemed to continue echoing off the trees as the spells hung in the air. A soft voice wafted on the breeze, a sound like the bubbling of a mountain creek, it was so melodious that Arya couldn't tell if the owner was man or woman. Brom repeated himself
"I am Brom, friend to you!"
The owner of the voice spoke more clearly now.
"Well met Brom," another sound joined the voice, laughter. The sound of it sent chills up the length of Arya's spine. She opened her eyes, and gasped. Four strangers were sitting in front of Brom, all were wearing dark cloaks which covered them down to their feet. Hoods had been pulled over their heads to hide their faces. Each of their frames was so slight that she still could not tell which ones were men or women. One had a short sword tapered to their belt, another a set of bow and arrows, and the third carried a spear. The final one, the smallest in stature and frame, carried no seen weapons.
Arya heard a growling sound and turned to see that beside one of them sat an enormous wolf, it's blue-black fur rippling softly in the sunlight and its haunches had been raised.
Intelligent grey eyes peered at her as she felt a slight probe touch her mind. Arya reacted instinctually and closed everything off from the probe, focusing on an image of Zar'roc. The wolf's growls became whimpers as he nudged the hand of the closest person, the one with the spear, and their hand moved to pat the wolf's head.
One of the strangers, the one with the sword, walked forward and removed their hood. A strong and regal face was illuminated, with brilliant silver eyes, which peered around at everything. The eyes fell to Arya's and then slid over to Fírnen, the person smiled ruefully and turned back to their companions nodding slightly. Instantly the pressure holding her disappeared and she fell straight, her bones and muscles aching from the position she held. She stood agape,
Did they just use magic without speaking? She asked Fírnen through their newly restored link. I thought you had to speak in the ancient language to cast magic.
Not all the time it seems… The dragon's amber eyes surveyed the strangers, all of whom had removed their hoods by now. They're not human.
Startled, Arya turned to look again. She still couldn't safely tell which were male or female, but she could see their features very well. Before she could try to dissern their genders on her own, the first person laughed. As they did, the hair fell back revealing ears that tapered to points.
Elves! She cried out to Fírnen. They're elves!
"Greetings Brom." they twisted their left hand over their breast and gestured to Brom, who repeated the sign. "My name is Thürin."
Thürin had long hair the color of night, and eyes of liquid silver. A scar discolored his (for male he was) otherwise blemish-free face.
Brom laughed, a strange sounding timbre colored it. "And whom else have I the pleasure of meeting?"
"My companions are named as thus," Thürin smiled.
First he pointed to the one with the bow. The elf had medium length starry hair, her eyes were the color of fresh snow, although the eyes were different in another way, they were almost aquiline in appearance, like an eagle's.
"She is known as Telrúnya, she," pointing to the tall elf with the spear, who had black colored hair, her eyes the color of new pine needles. "is named Melriel."
At the mention of the name, the large wolf moved forward and nuzzled gently against the aforementioned elf's arm. Thürin smiled and laughed.
Finally he turned to the one remaining elf, which after a few seconds nodded. Thürin nodded back and smiled.
"And this is Calón. We are well-met humans." His smile revealed slightly pointed teeth, almost like the teeth of a dog. Arya shivered. Brom looked him over and chuckled gruffly.
"How long were you following us?"
"Long enough," came the reply, but not from Thürin. Melriel had stepped forward, the large wolf with her, and she nodded towards Fírnen, "Thiebel found your scent days ago, mighty dragon. You aren't that hard to follow." Fírnen shifted uncomfortably under the elves watchful gaze, and Arya mentally flinched. Fírnen never backed down from someone's gaze!
Brom spoke slowly, cautiously. "Why reveal yourself now?"
A look of shear pain entered Thürin's eyes, but it was gone so fast that Arya was sure it wasn't there. He leaned in towards Brom and he whispered some words to Brom, so quietly that Arya couldn't understand him. Brom nodded slowly and responded equally as quiet. The elf nodded and smiling said a command in the ancient language to his companions, the gathered elves relaxed visually, all except Calón, who never seemed anxious in the slightest, he always seemed relaxed.
Brom and her packed up camp, the elves brought their packs and Arya realized that the four would travel with them. Upon questioning Brom why, he replied.
"They seek the selfsame man as we, make allowances with them child. Many of them are young among elves and only Thürin has ever seen a human in person. The queen of all elves sent them, but I regret to say, that I cannot reveal more than that. I swore to her majesty herself to never reveal more than what I've said to anyone without her express permission."
At that the group began the long journey to Gil'ead, travelling at night, and resting in the day.
Arya silently sulked at the loss of her vengeance. However, she took to asking the elves about their homeland to distract herself.
The only one willing to speak to her was the woman with the large wolf. Melriel, Arya remembered. And she only ever said,
"It's not my place to say for the others, and I do not wish to tell you about myself."
On the fifth night of their journey, the other elf woman (Arya couldn't remember her name) began singing. With a jolt she noticed it was in the ancient language. The sound of it sent shivers down Arya's spine. After the song Brom, upon noticing her confusion, translated for her.
High up above us, where all the hawks circle the mountain, riding the wind floating on updrafts and searching for prey. I think I saw them today. I climbed up higher than I've ever been and walked through the rubble, the smock and decay. Up where the sky is not auburn but blue. I'd like to go there with you.
Arya found herself committing every word to heart and she asked the elf woman, Telrúnya, to teach her the words. She seemed amused by the notion but conceded, and for the next four days she learned the language and customs of the elves of Alegaesia.
On the tenth day, Fírnen informed her that he could make a town out, after telling Brom, the old man smiled.
"Gil'ead…" he sighed, "Were that I could never see it again."
That night they made camp in silence and formulated a plan on how to save Eragon.
(A/N: Sorry this ends abruptly and sorry this has the random bonding with elves thing, but I didn't want to spend an entire other chapter explaining the elves and how they look and act. Sorry! Anyway, next chapter we're introduced to Murtagh and they save Eragon. Or do they? Is this all really only Arya's dream? Find out in the next chapter! With love-BW16)