The next two days went by faster than Eragon thought possible and so the evening of the Agaetí Blödhren came as he knew it had to. He felt anticipation as well as apprehension whenever he thought about the coming days, both because of the ceremony and the celebrations that would last several days.
For then his free days in Ellesméra would be over.
"Eragon, some concentration...", Saphira chided him, "People are watching you. And the time has come, finally..."
And indeed Arya was already on her way towards the glowing Menoa Tree and the gathered crowd of elves within the glade parted respectfully to let her though. She wore a sleeveless tunic of deep crimson and black with silver garnishments and along with the ruler's sceptre in her hand she looked more regal than any creature Eragon had ever met. Together with Saphira he stood in first line and watched her steady ascent towards the tree.
"Yes. Here we are again, representing the Riders, just as a hundred years ago... On the very same day, the very same place..."
"Yes."
"This is what we are here for..."
"Well, you could argue about that!"
Eragon quickly stifled the laugh that rose up his throat at Saphira's witty remark for at this exact moment complete silence spread over the crowd.
Arya had by now stepped nimbly onto a protruding root of the tree and now turned towards her expectant people with a look both severe and devotional on her face. With exaggeration she raised her arm high in the air and conjured a bright emerald werelight that floated gently upon her upraised palm. The elves waited with bated breaths while she moved it towards a sink in the tree where it remained hovering and shining like a small green sun even after Arya had removed her hand.
And an instant later the glade was filled with the cheers of the elves and the low pitter-patter of their clothed feet on the mossy forest ground.
Eragon felt a smile spreading across his face, feeling his own as well as Saphira's anticipation who had already jumped onto her feet, rustling her wings in excitement.
It has begun.
For Eragon the first day went by in whirl of merriment and the hours rushed past his awareness like leaves in an autumn storm. Most of his time was spent at a large table where he ate and drank and made merry with his companions – elves both of higher and lower ranks as he found out during their talk – even though he was actually mostly listening.
The melodious words and songs that wafted gently through the forest were intriguing him and he wasn't able to tell whether this was due to the beauty of the elvish voices or to the magic that was woven through every note and tone. More and more he tumbled into a pleasant haze that eased his tension and worries and replaced them with thoughts of beauty and love and a deep felicity. In contrast to the last time he had experienced this magic inflicted upon him he was now aware of it, of how it altered his mood and mind, not as it had been before, when he was still fully human – simply overwhelming and confusing.
So still fully aware of his surroundings he now leaned back in his cushioned chair and enjoyed his time. The only thing that tarnished this perfection was his regret of not being with the one whose presence he desired the most – for he wasn't about to see Arya until late in the evening.
Some hours after sunset Eragon was dragged away from the table by his companions to a small clearing where he found her standing in a lose circle with what seemed to be half the population of Ellesméra. He stopped aside one of the torches that illuminated their surroundings and followed the other's suit who were watching the women and men that stepped one after the other into the middle if the clearing - the inhabitants of Ellesméra who presented their gifts to their brethren.
Eragon watched the spectacle for a long time, he was impressed by the inventive spirit the elves demonstrated with every piece of art, jewellery, poetry or tool they presented. Saphira had joined his side in the meantime and Fírnen who laid aside Arya gave a low humming noise to great her. This again caught Arya's attention and she in turn greeted her most significant guests with a light dip of her head and the faintest of smiles. Before Eragon could do more than smile in return however the elves applauded the last demonstrator and it was one of Arya's lords that begged the Queen now to pleasure them with the gift from her hands and mind.
"And I will gladly do so", she said and clasped her hands together, "Yet I think it would be terribly impolite if I wouldn't grant my guests preference. So maybe Saphira Bjartskular and Master Eragon would like to present their works first?"
Her gaze rested upon the addressed pair and Eragon was quite sure that he was the only one who could see the playfulness and curiosity in Arya's eyes. Nodding to his right he urged his dragon to go first since she hold a gift from all of them.
The crowed went silent once more when Saphira stepped into the middle of the circle and perched herself regally onto her hind legs. In her mouth she carried what seemed to be a large roll of parchment attached to a stick of wood.
"What I will present to you is a gift not only from me but from all the dragons of my home – both wild and bounded ones - who granted me the honour to act in their representation", she spoke with her mind so that all people present could hear her. Then she lifted her head and carefully let the parchment unfurl itself, anxious not to harm the artwork inside with her razor-like fangs.
Gasps of wonder and praise could be heard among the crowd as Saphira proudly walked in a circle with her head held high so that everyone could see.
On the inside of the parchment the emblem of the Dragon Riders was emblazoned – the side view of the white dragon upon half dark blue, half red and yellow ground, representing the sunset at the seaside. What made the picture so magnificent though was that it was a mosaic – a mosaic made of dozens, maybe hundreds of shimmering dragon scales of every size and nuance. The jewel-like objects reflected the golden light of the torches and let the picture shine only brighter.
Followed by exclamations of admiration Saphira ended her circuit in front of Arya and Fírnen and lowered her head, but only slightly. Fírnen understood her intention and accepted the offered gift from her.
"We are more than thankful for your and your brethren's present and we gladly accept it", Arya answered for him, "It is a worthy piece of art and I think we all would be delighted if the other dragons were informed of our admiration."
"Of course", Saphira answered to Arya and the crowd, "I will see to it that they learn of your gratitude."
Arya nodded. "I am glad to hear that. We will find a place in our halls for your masterpiece where everyone will be able to enjoy it, Bjartskular."
Saphira only answered with a satisfied snort and then returned to Eragon's side who had fetched his own piece of work in the meantime. And anticipation again dictated the atmosphere in the clearing when the Master of the Riders stepped forward, carrying what seemed to be a blanketed, rectangular tablet with him.
"As my dragon did before", he began as he came to a halt in the middle of the circle, "I also decided to let our home in the East be the topic of my art – for what else could ever be as significant for this new age and for all the races of Alagaësia but the resurrection of the Dragons?"
And with that he carefully freed the canvas of its cover and revealed a chalk drawing of the most interesting kind. It was colourful and lively, yet lacked the clearness a fairth would show. Instead the artist had decided to work with hints and blurred edges and the contrast between pastel and intensive colours. In the same manner the motive – or rather motives – smoothly flowed into one another, showing the facade of a lone city at the foot of high mountains and besides it, inserted like a gap in space, a scene showing several dragons standing proudly at the edge of a cliff. And above that all a bright eclipse was floating, like starlight in the darkest sky and surrounded by multicoloured, sparkling dots.
It appeared like a dream where reality wavered and bent, showing Eragon's world underneath the symbol of one of his most significant experiences in life.
For the world was round - and that made them all one.
The elves praised the picture, most of them fascinated and curious about the landscape and also the deeper sense behind it. Eragon accepted their admiration with an elegant bow, but remained waiting. The Queen hadn't voiced her opinion yet, but watched him with concentration. She seemed lost in thought.
"I think I speak for all of us if I say that I am more than impressed by your hand's work."
"Your praise means much to me, Queen Arya", and he emphasized his words with yet another curt bow, while trying to find a way to tell her what he wanted to before she would be swept away by the caprices of the celebration again. He decided for the easiest one.
"Saphira? Could you ask Fírnen to deliver a message for me? Let him tell Arya to wait for me. I want to show her something..."
The Dragonlady gave the smallest of snorts, but delivered the message. Eragon now stood beside her again and waited like all the others for Arya to show her gift now. He watched her closely as she still remained silent and the look in her eyes convinced him that Fírnen had told her already.
She looked straight into his eyes with the most questioning gaze in her own. Eragon smiled and hoped she would understand.
You will see soon enough, my Queen...
He felt better than he had in a very long time.
And so the first night of the festival went by and Eragon still hadn't found a chance to talk to Arya. She and Fírnen had recited their texts after Eragon's presentation – for they both had decided to write a poem for the celebration – and performed them under the general appreciation of all people present. Together the elves decided to take a break then because dawn was near upon them and the time was ripe for a substantial breakfast.
Thus Eragon still hadn't caught Arya on her own, but he was glad to be able to enjoy the feast with her as he sat directly aside her. They exchanged many words during that time, though nothing of importance. Nevertheless their talk turned out to be most amazing for Eragon - he was amused and delighted to watch the expectant, curious glimmer in Arya's emerald eyes and felt his own anticipation rising.
It took another two hours for the loose society to dissolve. After most were sated or got tired of the slowing conversation at the table the elves left partly alone, partly in small groups to see after the ongoings of the celebration around them or some to finally present their gifts.
As he watched the circle around them thinning Eragon turned to Arya to seize his chance, only to find her already searching for his gaze. She leaned halfway towards him.
"I was told you want to talk to me?", she asked him with a low voice, watching him very closely. Eragon smiled.
"Well, not so much to talk, but rather to show you something..."
His smile broadened as she raised her eyebrows and jerked his head to his right where he knew a small bench was standing just a few dozen yards along the edge of the forest. Arya nodded and together they rose to their feet, both trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. Neither of them wanted to sow half-baked rumours. Arya had already made her first step towards their destination yet halted in wonder as Eragon apparently didn't follow her. Again she raised an eyebrow at him and Eragon answered her with an apologetic look upon his face.
"Do you think you could be so generous as to wait for me there? It will take just a second..."
"Of course", she seemed slightly surprised, but her lips twitched in a playful way, "But don't let me wait too long, Shadeslayer."
And of course he didn't.
Eragon hurried and so he was on his way back to Arya within the next two minutes, now carrying a clothed package in his arms. He meandered through the celebrating elves on his way towards the fringe of the clearing, all the while refusing invitations of drinking and feasting in the hopefully politest way possible. But it didn't take much longer till he saw her and his footsteps only picked up pace as she too turned her head to watch his swift approach. With delight and a joyful anticipation swelling inside his chest he saw her eyeing the cylindrical object in his arms. Yet there was also nervousness – he hoped so very much that she would like it.
He sat down beside her on the bench where she was already sitting in a casual way. Eragon was glad for what he saw, because her body language and face showed an ease that he sometimes missed about her. The magic that pulsed through the forest seemed to have an effect on her too. She raised her eyes from the package in his hands to meet his and lifted one corner of her mouth.
"So, what is it you want to show me?"
Her oiled lips glistened in the morning's twilight. Eragon felt a lazy smile creeping on his face.
"Shortly after accepting your invitation I began to think about a gift for the Agaetí Blödhren and then the thought came to my mind that it would only be proper if I would prepare a gift for my host too", his smile widened, "I thought long about what I should bring to you and I am still not sure whether I made the right decision, but know that I tried to do so at least, and very much so too."
He then took the cloth away and revealed a sparkling glassphere. Arya took the object carefully out of his offering hands and eyed it with admiration obvious on her face. After mere seconds of scrutiny she lifted the upper globe and sat it gently aside to look more closely at what was beneath it.
With what Eragon thought to be close to tenderness she took the delicate musical clock into her hands and lifted it to her face.
He had made it out of the core of the great nuts that grew at some places in Du fells ráva. They were hard as wood, smooth like marble and coloured like cream. The basement and roof were decorated with elegantly curved lines and the carrousel was refined with bands of white gold. He had kept it lightly with colours, the figurines and ornaments were coloured beautifully and rich in detail even though Eragon had used only mild pastel shades.
As Arya wound up the wrench the creatures in the middle began to dance to a soothing melody played with the clearest of tones. There were white horses that proudly slanted their necks – for he knew Arya had a certain love for horses – and dragons of course. There were four of them: One gold, one green, and two blue ones – light and dark blue. The dragons that had shaped both their lives.
Arya watched and listened for a minute longer, seemingly engrossed with the delicate object, yet her face was hard to read and Eragon waited with every passing second more excitedly for her judgement.
When she finally turned her face to him he saw that her eyes were very bright.
"And you have made this all on your own?", she seemed to be mesmerized by the thought, what on the other hand made Eragon chuckle.
"Yes, I did. Or do you think I would present you with someone else's creation?"
"No, you would not...", she shook her head and looked back towards the still dancing creatures, "And you made it just for me?"
"Yes. Of course."
She turned again. And this time she smiled. And very gently so, just as her voice was.
"Thank you. Really."
"Does that mean you like it?"
"But of course I do, how could anyone not? It is very, very beautiful. I am proud that you deem me worthy for such a gift made from your very own hands. You honour me."
He waved his hand, but smiled.
"I am glad that you find pleasure in it – that is all that I had wished for."
"But you shamed me, too."
Now he was taken aback. She frowned deeply and even though Eragon was sure at second gaze that she was joking, he still wondered.
"How would I have done that, your Majesty?"
The frown deepened. And this time she seemed serious.
"Don't call me that, not when we meet privately at least."
"I am sorry, I didn't mean it seriously. Why does it disturb you that much?"
"There are so many people that only speak to me with this title, so many for whom I am just their queen and nothing else", there was suddenly a trace of sadness in her eyes, "I don't want... I wouldn't be able to stand it if you were one of them too."
She set her present down on her thighs, holding it still with one hand, then lifted the other to gently, but without hesitance laid her palm onto Eragon's cheek. He shuddered once by the sudden touch and inhaled sharply before he could compose himself. Her fingers only rested lightly on his skin, but they were very warm.
"You are so much more to me than any of them, Eragon. Iet friciai.
He held her gaze for a long minute, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his and drowning in the emerald depths that were her beautiful eyes.
The door to the soul...
When she lowered her hand again he quickly caught it with his own and continued to hold her small hand within the strong confines of his own. Eragon deemed himself a tad bold – though this might still be an old habit – but he was glad that she never tried to pull her hand away, nor did he find any sign of alarm in her eyes or on her face. It were tiny things like this that sometimes made him very happy.
Before he could utter a word however, Arya spoke again.
"You sidetracked me though", she said blinking, "I said you shamed me – because obviously I haven't thought about something for you."
Eragon chuckled at that and squeezed her hand slightly.
"You don't have to give me anything, Arya. This is no competition. Don't stress yourself."
"Hm", she seemed thoughtful, "I guess I have still one or two days left to think about something..."
"Arya...", Eragon sighed and shook his head, but in good humour. He gave her hand another small squeeze, "You already give me so much with wanting me here with you again."
Eragon watched her very closely and he thought he saw her eyes widening for the tiniest fraction. Only silence greeted his words, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one and her gaze never left his and never was anything else but gentle.
When the moment was over Arya carefully freed her hand to pick up her present again. She hold it in her lap, examining it closely again and softly touched the tiny figures.
"I should bring it into safety till the celebration is over", she spoke without looking up, "Do you want to come along?"
Eragon accepted her offer and soon they rose together and made their way back through the crowd. Yet again they walked in silence - and Arya never took her eyes off the object underneath the glassphere that rested gently in her hands.
They found their dragons laying abreast in the very proximity of the swaying Menoa Tree where they listened to a band and watched the elves that danced to the lively compositions.
"They seem to enjoy themselves", Eragon laughed slightly as he watched Saphira and Fírnen weighing and humming along with the beat of the music.
"Obviously", Arya seemed amused too.
Eragon stopped respectfully as Arya approached Fírnen and talked to him. The emerald dragon listened carefully to his Rider, but highly visible for Eragon, he flashed him a piercing glance while Arya rested her present, now rewrapped in cloth, at his side to let him guard it for a while.
"You really thought she wouldn't like it?", he was surprised as the green dragon contacted him.
"I couldn't be sure, I guess..."
"Eragon", Fírnen laughed teasingly in his mind, "After all Arya is just a woman too."
Eragon grinned in response and chuckled even as Fírnen winked at him behind his Rider's back. But he turned away before Arya could recognize the silent exchange and by intuition looked up to the skies. The second day of the Agaetí Blödhren was halfway over already.
"Eragon?"
"Hm?"
"You are fine?", he was surprised by Saphira's worry.
"Of course. Just thinking. As though you wouldn't know..."
"Hmpf. You are being cheeky. What has bitten you?"
"I am fine. It's just... another day will be over soon."
She remained silent for a moment and left Eragon listening to her emotions.
"I know. It's not easy on me too. But, please Eragon, you are far too wise to let dark forebodings occupy your mind. Life in the present and don't worry about what is to come. You should enjoy your time here – especially because it is limited. You know I speak the truth..."
He sighed.
"Yes, I do."
"Then don't stand around here like a lost sheep! There is someone waiting for you..."
On that he looked around, for Arya of course, and found her standing a metre aside him and waiting patiently for his talk with Saphira to be over. But his dragon wasn't done with him after all.
"You should really make the best of your time here... Don't you think the music is wonderful? I am sure Arya thinks so too..."
Eragon frowned as he read in her mind what she thought behind these words and was both scared and exhilarated at what he found there. He turned back to Arya again and saw her smiling at whatever look he had on his face. His gaze flickered once to the dancing pairs and he made his decision then, encouraged by her former behaviour and the haze that still obscured his mind. And just as he wanted to open his mouth he heard Arya's voice speaking to him again.
"It's well after noon and we've been talking quite some time... Maybe you would like some refreshment –"
By she fell silent as Eragon bowed slightly and offered her his hand. The silver Gedwey ignasia shimmered on his upraised palm.
"My Lady, may I have the pleasure of the next dance?"
Arya blinked once after Eragon had voiced his demand but remained utterly motionless and her eyes just as silent. Eragon waited patiently for her answer and stayed in his bent over position while he watched the flickers dancing through her eyes. He was surprised to see Fírnen stretch his long neck towards her after yet another couple of seconds and give her a gentle shove with his snout.
But it was then that Arya reached for him, a bit reluctantly maybe, and laid her hand gently into his. There was a smile on her face now.
Eragon curled his fingers at the feel of the warmth of her skin upon his own. He loosely enveloped her slender digits as he straightened up again. But though she appeared to have relaxed again, he felt unsure now after seeing her hesitation and felt a slight frown crease his brow.
"Arya... If you feel uncomfortable with it – "
"No", she interrupted his words resolutely, "I was just... surprised. It was...", but she seemingly wasn't able to finish her sentence and just shook her head with yet another smile.
"Alright... Then – come on."
And Eragon turned halfway away from her and led her hand in hand onto the dancefloor.
He halted when they were surrounded by other dancing pairs and turned to face her again, feeling the anticipation rising within him. Though nothing of this could be seen on his face his pulse was beating away at least at thrice the usual pace. And as he met Arya's expectant gaze he thought he could see a glimmer of agitation in her eyes as well.
Eragon was oblivious to their surroundings – he was unaware of the curious eyes around them, he couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet, nor the breeze of cool air on his arms. In this moment nothing existed but Arya and himself and the soft tune that wavered around and through them as he very carefully stepped closer to her and laid his arm around her waist.
The music had slowed down to a comfortable rhythm by then and Eragon and Arya began to gracefully move together with the beat. Many of the elves were taken aback by what they saw, others seemingly were neither surprised nor interested at all and some even were looking at them as though they were a true sight to behold.
For some very long minutes they danced in pleasant silence and through all this time Eragon just couldn't make himself avert his gaze from Arya's bright eyes. He got lost in the sparkling speckles of her irises. The mosaic of light and dark green reminded him of light falling through a sunlit canopy of leaves.
Surprisingly enough Arya never turned away either.
With their eyes attached to each other and their hands touching the situation suddenly turned out to feel far more intimate than Eragon had planned it to be. And to his astonishment and slight amusement Eragon noticed that he didn't feel uncomfortable at all – excited, yes, but not uncomfortable. He knew that the spells and magic of this night were running thickly through his veins like ale, making him feel more at ease with her closeness and his worries than he maybe should. He could only guess that it was the same for Arya.
The first words that were spoken between them again came from her mouth, but her lilting voice met merely deaf ears. Eragon startled as he realized that she had spoken and quickly made his dazzled mind focus.
"Forgive me", he whispered slightly apprehensively, "Could you – "
But he was silenced as he witnessed a wide smile spread across Arya's face that even made the corner's of her eyes crinkle in a sightly way. He was even more amazed when Arya chuckled at his foolishness. Eragon discovered that this night was full of magic.
"Now again...", Arya spoke on after she had concentrated again, "I just wanted to know, did you enjoy your time here?"
The answer to this question came easily to his mind and he was more than pleased by Arya's worry, but it also stroke him with sadness for she spoke as though he was already leaving.
"Of course I did, Arya. I mean, it had cost me quite an effort to come here, to face you – to face my past again. I have been... quite scared of it at first to be honest."
"I understand you very well", her voice was very soft, "What convinced you otherwise though?"
He smiled.
"I have told you already: I have been a fool, a coward even, for far too long. I really couldn't miss this opportunity to see you again... Who knows when the next chance would have come? If I had given in to my fears - maybe never again..."
Involuntary his hand tightened the tiniest bit around her waist. But she apparently didn't mind.
"So you didn't expect to come back to Alagaësia? Never again?"
Eragon remained silent for a while and for the first time since they started floating across the soft ground of the forest he looked away from Arya's face, his eyes drifting over her shoulder to stare into the distance. He tried to think very hard and very fast, yet he felt the hindrance the magic had inflicted upon him preventing him from coming to a conclusion. In the end he just did what felt right and natural to him – to be honest with her.
"I have never told you... I was quite sure that I would never come back to Alagaësia again because someone once foretold me so... And she had never been wrong with her predictions."
Arya's brow creased now and she only very slightly lost the rhythm of her feet.
"What do you mean? You have never said so much as a word about something like that", a subliminal anger now resonated within her voice, "Who said something like this to you and when? And why do you attach so much importance to someone else's words?"
Eragon gulped once. He started to regret what he had gotten himself into; this was not the easy talk he wanted to share with her in these magical nights...
But, unable to find an easy way out, he told her about his first time in Teirm and how he had met Angela and Solembum in her herbage shop.
"And then she asked me whether I wanted to know my fortune... And I agreed", he made a pause, "She threw a dragon's knucklebones for me and, among other things, she told me that I would once leave Alagaësia and never return."
He ended his tale with that and watched her face very closely for her reaction. The frown had never left her face and her eyes were very thoughtful. It was strange how double sided their present situation felt to Eragon – there they were, swaying gracefully together above the ground with harmony marking every movement and their hands touching the other's so gently; Eragon was especially aware of the arm that felt so nice being wrapped around her waist with his hand on her back and of her own hand that rested ever so slightly on his shoulder.
Yet on the other hand there was this tension again, the unsureness and the serious talk they carried. He wasn't pleased to see her frown deepening till a crinkle appeared between her eyebrows.
"But you are here...", there was wonder in her voice, "You did come back... So Angela was wrong with that after all, wasn't she?"
"I am not sure", Eragon grimaced, "I always found it hard to grasp the exact meaning of her words – and that didn't change with the years that passed by", he said with a short chuckle, "There is no particular point of time given in her prophecy. Who knows? Maybe I will come back again even more often from now on – then I could still leave one day and never return. Maybe we interpret the term "return" in a wrong way, maybe it only means that I will never come back to Alagaësia again as my home, that I will never again live here again. Maybe even me fate has changed since the day she had questioned the bones for me and the prophecy is no longer true for me anymore. Maybe it is... out of date, so to say."
The topic he had tried to evade so hard stroke him with full force as he said that. To think like this was painful; there are things that he never wished to end, even if it might be better for him like that. He sighed and then shook his head to chase away the gloomy thoughts.
"I thought about the prophecy as Saphira and I reached the Edda River on our way to you", he chuckled, "I halfway expected Saphira to ran into an invisible wall as we flew across it. I believed so much in what she had said, I just couldn't make myself believe that Angela could be wrong. Nearly everything else came true."
"What else did she tell you?", there was curiosity obvious in her voice, just as obvious as her reluctance at posing this question. Even though they were close he knew she would be careful with prying into his personal affairs.
"Many things. Some more concrete than others and less important so. That a member of my family would betray me...", he snorted, "It had disturbed me a lot, to that time I thought it meant Roran for I didn't know about Murtagh back then..."
He thought for a moment.
"She told me that I had a myriad of possible ways in front of me and that I am fortunate to be able to choose my own fate... She told me that large battles would await me, that the forces of Alagaësia would fight in my favour... And that someone close to me would die soon – she meant Brom – and another mischief that would await me on a vast journey", he shrugged his shoulders, "I never found out what that means or whether it had already happened... Hmn."
He remained silent after that with his eyes drifting into distance again. Silent and stuck in two minds...
"Eragon? Is there anything else?"
His eyes flashed back to hers again and found them infiltrating his own with force. He couldn't help but grin. She knew him much too good. He took a deep breath.
"Nothing... nothing of importance", he snorted as she lifted one eyebrow, "No, not anymore... I will tell you one day."
Suddenly he realized that they weren't moving anymore. Yet Arya's gaze didn't waver.
"You are looking worried. I don't want to... worm something out of you that is clearly a matter only of yours, but if there is a burden you want to share...", she trailed off.
They stood there for some very long seconds, still locked together as they were while dancing and absorbed the other's gaze, absolutely unaware of the increasing number of eyes that rested upon their backs.
Eragon was glad for her concern and he appreciated her try to help him very much. He had started to realize that a certain warmth spread inside him again this last days whenever he was at her side. He could feel her again. It was as though his body, heart and mind finally started to remember her. To remember her the way she really was, to remember what she once was to him.
"I am fine", he said and lifted their still entangled hands, his left and her right one, and brushed the back of his hand very gently over her slanted cheek bone, "We have spent quite some time here now... I interrupted you before. Do you want to go and drink something now? Maybe a glass of good wine?"
Arya seemed confused by the sudden change of subject, but Eragon knew that she wouldn't be swayed this easily. He let go off her and she took her hand from his shoulder, yet their hands remained intertwined when they left the area around the band to look for some refreshment.
"Eragon..."
He laughed as he heard her voice ringing in a questioning way beside him just as he had expected it to.
"Do you promise to tell me?"
He turned his head aside to meet her gaze. Her eyes were very bright and very insistent. When he was sure of anything in this world, then that Arya was far from being dull or slow. He was sure she had already guessed, at least partly, what he was holding back.
"Yes. I promise I will tell you one day."
The ancient language sealed his fate.
And then the last night of the Blood Oath Celebration came.
The day had rushed past Eragon in a whirl of merriment. As promised he had stopped with Arya at a table aside the buffet after their dancing where they had spent another hour together with talking, drinking and laughing. Unfortunately he had been denied her presence shortly after. As Queen she was expected to give her attention to her people too and thus had left him to watch after the ongoings of the celebration and grant her subjects their share of her time.
Eragon then had decided to follow her suit and mingled with the crowd again to see more of the elves' fantastic works and gifts and to engage himself in the conversations and discussions all around the glade.
A few hours later the werelight at the Menoa Tree began to dim.
Above the top of the trees the night was cold, colder than Eragon had expected it to be. He shivered slightly in his short-sleeved tunic. Leaning back in Saphira's saddle, gazing up towards the skies, he took a deep breath and sighed.
"You are tired?"
"No", he sighed again, "Tired is not the right word for what I feel. But I am glad for the break. It is all so... overwhelming."
"The celebrations of the elves are very potent indeed..."
Eragon could only agree with Saphira, but his blurred mind hardly could – or felt even the need – to escape the magic's influence.
" We have just a few hours left till the ceremony begins...", Saphira whispered through their link.
"Yes."
"How long do you think you will need your rest?"
"Why?", Eragon was surprised at her question.
"I have a date, you know. I am making him wait already", she turned her head after she spoke and Eragon rolled his eyes as she blink with one giant eye lid.
"Don't laugh. We have just hours left."
This sobered him quickly.
"I am sorry, I didn't mean it like that..."
But mischief welled up and through her mind.
"Nor did I. And don't be sad because of my absence, I will leave you to pleasant company."
"What mysterious person that might be..."
Saphira chuckled at him.
"Come on. Be glad for the opportunity. You have just one day left as well..."
But Eragon remained silent.
"Do you regret to come here, Eragon?", Saphira questioned a tad sharply, "Do you think it was a fault?"
"Hmn... No, no fault. But one thing bothers me: Should I wish to stay? Or to fly back home again? Because I desire both of it..."
"I understand, I really understand, Eragon", her voice and the sound of her mind were very gentle now, "But what shall I say? Be glad that we were here and for the time we shared with our friends. And hope that we will see them soon again..."
But a few minutes later Eragon was standing on solid ground again and watched Saphira taking wing. The voices and music from the heart of the celebration only rang faintly in his sensitive ears and so he guessed that he was quite a stretch away from the glade of the Menoa Tree. Much louder however was the gentle gurgling of water to his right. He kept listening to the pleasant sound for another short minute and enjoyed his surroundings. The nightly air of the forest tasted nice on his tongue and he inhaled deeply to gather every single nuance of it.
Sighing at the pleasure of it he took a first step and started to look for the stream he heard flowing alongside his path. He found it easily and followed its wounded course till it brought him to a vast meadow, as he had been told it would. The meadow was thickly covered by lush dark green grass and colourful yet sleeping wildflowers and sedges were growing at the bank of the creek. However Eragon's eyes travelled elsewhere.
His gaze followed the bends of the running water until it met with a large boulder that laid nestled against a curve of the stream. It seemed strangely out of place in the otherwise flat landscape, but covered in moss and lichen as it was Eragon was sure it belonged to the perspective of this glade for far longer than he cared to count.
And beside it, and with that close to the other side of the meadow, a lone figure was standing with her hand resting lightly against the cold stone. Eragon couldn't really see her face, but by the bearing of her head he guessed that she was looking up to the tops of the trees and the stars above.
Smiling softly to himself he silently strode forward with measured steps. He steadily glided ever closer to her yet Arya never turned her head – apparently she was absorbed deep enough in her own thoughts that she didn't even sense his approach – or maybe he was just silent enough.
When he was just about ten feet behind her he opened his mouth to greet her – but then closed it again as a thought came to his mind. A thought that made him smile widely and halt in anticipation when words of old came ringing through his mind.
"How tall the trees, how bright the stars... and how beautiful you are, O Arya Svit-kona".
He had know from the very first step that he had just entered the glade where he had spoken these words to her once before.
Arya whirled around as she heard his voice, her eyes were widened in a way that told Eragon that Fírnen hadn't included her into the plans of their meeting.
These cheeky dragons of ours, really...
He grinned at the thought and he grinned at Arya when the astonishment drained from her face and was replaced by amusement. Eragon chuckled.
"A clumsy rhyme, alright, but not too bad according to the circumstances, wasn't it?"
He took his last steps to her side while he spoke and sat down on a low ledge of the boulder, still smiling.
"You have a talent for words, I always knew", she said and, to his slight surprise, sat down in the soft grass beside his place. Yet he smiled ruefully at her.
"Hm. Not back then, I daresay. Otherwise I had known better than to bring you in such a difficult position with my words."
Arya tilted her head and looked at him for a silent moment, studying what was in the depth of his eyes. She held his gaze for a long time and Eragon could see thoughts and emotions dancing swiftly in her eyes as the old memories rushed through her mind. But the vivid green calmed again and softened even more with her understanding.
"That had had nothing to do with your wording...", she said lowly, "But rather with the ingenuous notions of youth. You have been rash but you haven't been wrong", her gazed travelled down, to the rushing water at her feet, "You have only said what was true for you to that time, what you felt like… And there is no sin or shame in desiring love… And I… I judged you – rashly too – after a cliché. I have been harsh to you without even trying to understand... Without even considering that what you said to me could have come from an honest heart...
From the very beginning I burdened myself terribly that I had to hurt you like that, but sometimes I think I have not burdened myself enough."
She turned her head again and again watched him intently. Eragon saw apprehension in her eyes and wasn't sure whether he wanted to elicit this reaction from her.
"You only did what you deemed right...", Eragon smiled as kindly at her as he could, "And it was right, Arya. Don't let it get to you like that. You had no other option. I left you no other option."
At least to that time, he thought to himself, At least to that time.
"Maybe we should agree that we both hadn't made it easy for us that night?"
"I think that would be reasonable", Eragon nodded to emphasize his words and leaned his head to her, smiling cheekily, "And we still can do better this night to make up for it, can't we?"
Arya smiled back at him and happily so, at least for Eragon's judgement, but on the same time he saw a thoughtfulness in her eyes that made him wonder. He didn't want any sad feelings to arise though, especially not on this night, and so tried his best to come up with a new subject.
"How did you come here then? You seemed surprised when I appeared. Didn't Fírnen tell you that I would come here too?"
Arya creased her brow.
"No... He told me that he was going to see Saphira though. I should have known that she'd bring you along."
"Maybe, yes...", he shrugged his shoulders, "I haven't been warned much either. But I am glad for the opportunity to spent some time with you. As usual dragons are omniscient and much more cunning than anyone of us could ever be."
"For sure", she played with the grass at her crossed over legs as she spoke, "And you? When do you plan on leaving us?"
Eragon silently watched her wrapping her fingers around the shining blades of grass. He watched her long, nimble fingers and felt sad after all. He waited with his reply till she looked up to him again.
"We planned on leaving tomorrow", he was sorry for leaving her again and by the look in Arya's eyes he was sure that she was sorry as well that he had to leave so soon, "I would love to stay longer, but our way is long and we have been absent from home for quite some time now... We cannot wait any longer."
Arya nodded at him and he saw her understanding for his situation, but also the regret she felt.
"I am glad that I came back, Arya", Eragon nearly whispered, trying to reassure her, "And I am thankful, very thankful, for your invitation. It... felt good to see you again."
Arya nodded and turned away again.
"I am glad too...", but contrary to her words she flexed her fingers a tad restlessly around the blades of grass, "And now you will go... home again. Eragon...", she hesitated, "Am I allowed to ask you something? Something personal? I won't be angry if you refuse to answer."
Eragon laughed softly at that and crossed his legs for a more comfortable position. Arya looked at him now and raised an eyebrow, but he only smiled and shook his head.
"Go ahead."
She turned away again.
"You have found a home for you and your dragon... A home you never want to abandon again, because it belongs to you now, if I got you right. And so I have been wondering... Well, I have really no right to ask you something like this, especially not I", the last part of the sentence was whispered, "And even less a right for an answer, but that decision is now yours", she looked up again and firmly gazed into his eyes as though searching for something, "Is there someone... someone you will come home to? Eragon, in all that time... Has there ever been someone... someone that belonged to you? Or... is there now... a woman you call your own?", she inclined her head, "I would be glad, you know..."
Her tone had become more and more careful while speaking and Eragon knew why as he recognized himself how immobile his feature suddenly felt. It was not that he chided her for posing such a question, but he felt an unease creep into his heart, an unease so intensive that he just had to defy it as best as he could. Thus the mask he had to put on. He took a deep steadying breath that vibrated strongly through his lungs.
"There was... a try", his voice was very low and he didn't know himself whether it was sad or anxious, "But nothing beyond that. So – no. There has never been – someone like that."
He had caught himself quickly. Nearly the word "another" had escaped him – and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to answer her question like that. He was dead sure though that Arya didn't want him to answer like that. Dreadfully he watched her eyes widening slightly as they became more and more compassionate. It was not that he feared talking to her about his experiences considering this topic.
He was scared as hell of the answer he would receive if he was to pose the same question to her. Scared as hell.
"I am sorry... I don't want you to feel uncomfortable..."
Eragon chuckled at how easily she saw through him. In a way at least. He shook his head.
"Don't be", he mumbled and they shared another long moment of silence. It was hardly even broken by the softly whispered word Arya spoke, her lips barely moving.
"Why?"
Eragon could her the reluctance in her voice and understood her worry. He could see it visibly straining against what better judgement told her. And he couldn't blame her for her confusion – he found it hard to tell himself which explanation was the right one. So he shrugged his shoulders.
"It just never came to be. There was hardly ever even a chance for something like that and...", he smiled cheekily, "Nor were there ever many – options. Except for the elves that accompanied me there from the very beginning and the few others who joined as in the following years, all of them were my students. A relationship with one of them – if I had ever desired such a thing – would have been more than inappropriate."
"Of course...", she answered lightly, but it deemed to Eragon she was deep in thought. He was enlightened a second later.
"You said there was "a try" though?", again she asked carefully and a blink of her eye told him both that to answer or not was up to him and of her curiosity for this answer.
"Kind of a try, yes", he thought for a moment and with a sigh then decided to just tell her without overthinking things.
"Yaela started to show some affection, just very subtly at the beginning, many years after we had settled in Minuial", he paused shortly as Arya's eyebrows twitched upwards, but she remained silent and so Eragon proceeded, "I didn't know what to make of it at first – in a way I never knew what to make of it. But she remained persistent – cautious, but persistent."
Again Eragon paused. He stared at his own hands that laid folded in his lap, but he was very aware of Arya's gaze upon him.
"Yes, she remained insistent... and I had been alone, I had been alone for a very long time. And so I tried – and try is exactly the right word – to go with it. But it just never worked."
He shrugged again and smiled wryly down at Arya's curious face.
"It was as though my brain was saying: 'Alright, she is nice, you like her, give it a try'. But my heart was crying: 'Do we really, really have to?'"
Eragon laughed lightly at his own words and to his satisfaction Arya laughed with him, even if a bit reluctantly. They sobered quickly though and Eragon wasn't sure what to read into Arya's features. There was something foreign in her eyes whose meaning escaped him. He pondered that for a moment.
"And you?", he asked then and fought the anxiety rising in his chest as hard as he could. His need for clarity proved to be stronger than his apprehension though.
"Me?"
"Yes", Eragon couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as she seemed positively surprised, "What about you? Had someone ever... been yours?"
He watched her very closely, waited and hoped. Quite sure that there was no one in her life for now – for he would have heard at least whispers of it should the Queen have a mate – he was still anxious. The thought of someone – anyone – talking to her intimately, listening to her thoughts, touching her skin... It was impossible. On the other hand – shouldn't he grant Arya her happiness? Of course he should and he was very aware of the truth in this.
She deserves all the happiness in the world. Even if that means that I will have to endure the thought of another man in her heart.
But it was Arya's turn to shrug her shoulders.
"My duties hardly leave time for much dating."
Eragon snorted softly and grinned a one-sided grin.
"I would be surprised if it were otherwise. But that was not the question", he tilted his head, the grin widening, "Come on."
"There is not much to tell you... Däthedr tried – or tries – from time to time. At least I think so, if I don't get his indications wrong. I don't think I do. I have always – very politely – declined his efforts. He is a good friend of mine and always helped me when there was need, but that is all. I am not interested in more."
Eragon nodded. He knew that Arya wouldn't accept anyone's courting on a whim. Nor did he.
So where does this leave us?, he thought the words that he dared not speak aloud, It's a strange world, Arya, isn't it?
He sighed and Arya found his gaze, returning it with a curious yet slightly unsure one of herself. Smiling gently, reassuringly, Eragon nimbly slid down from his place on the rock and came to sit beside her. He felt Arya's cautious eyes on him while he folded his knees, but he didn't look at her and rather stared into the shimmering stream just inches in front of him. Still smiling to himself he extended a hand and let his fingers dive underneath the surface. The cool water felt refreshing upon his skin and he watched for another minute how the rushing liquid circulated around his digits.
"Eragon..."
The soft voice beside him was close to him and as he turned his head he found Arya now facing him, her eyes intensive. He again found worry in them and he was sure he had a good guess on the topic that still occupied her mind.
"Eragon, that – incident, with Yaela...", her brow creased and her eyes darkened even more. He could see how much of an effort it cost her to speak on, "That had nothing to do with us, I hope..."
The unasked question hung in the air for a tension-filled second. Eragon thought that he had seen this question looming in her eyes a few minutes ago, yet he was surprised that she actually posed it.
"I cannot be because of... me, can it?", Arya went on as he didn't react, "It had been so long ago...", her words turned into a whisper, "I don't want it to be because of me..."
"No, I know you wouldn't want that."
"So?"
"Honestly?", he knew the question was for nothing, yet he still felt obligated to ask it. And for sure…
"Of course. What else?", she frowned.
"To be honest… I don't know", he watched with regret the shadow that darkened her features, "You are right, it had been so long ago… And being with Yaela just didn't feel right for me, I never found a deeper connection with her, if you know what I mean… So I would say no, it had nothing to do with… us. On the other hand, do I really know how much of what I think and feel is driven by instinct or subconsciousness or memories? I don't know."
He looked deep into her still wary eyes and a kind smile appeared on his face.
"I don't know that, Arya, but what I know is that nothing of this is your fault, nor do I want you to burden yourself with my problems… They will resolve themselves when the time is ripe, I am sure."
At that he slowly reached out, gave her time to reject him, yet when she didn't do that, he softly took her hand in his, enveloped it and gave it a slight squeeze.
He received no answer but the tightening of her fingers around his and stayed adamant as Arya drew up her knees to place her cheek on them. She scrutinized him out of her calm yet alert emerald eyes with her head still resting on her knees.
Eragon never wavered in returning that gaze, yet watched her as well for her reactions. He saw apprehension in those beautiful eyes, worry, regret – but also gentleness and compassion. He hoped that he returned these as much as he felt he did.
She was looking inside him so deeply, deeper than he thought possible, he felt captured by the force of her gaze, but he didn't wish to escape her intensity, nor break their eye-contact.
Arya was the first of them to move. She straightened again and took a deep breath which Eragon was unsure to interpret. Was it still the concern that stressed her, was she annoyed with him? She didn't seem so.
But before he could say or ask something, before he had even formed the intention to do anything at all, he saw Arya raising her left hand; her right one was still entangled with his. He watched the steady progress of her long fingers towards him and didn't shy away from the contact. On the contrary.
When she reached him he felt himself subconsciously lean his head ever so slightly against the warm palm that touched his face. Her skin was soft against his cheek and her cooler fingertips tingled and burned more than their temperature justified. A shiver ran down his spine.
"Eragon…"
The hand curled itself to the shape of his cheek, pressing her fingertips lightly into his skin before leaving it altogether.
"Eragon… How has it really been for you?", he heard her whispered words and jerked as though she had shouted them at him. He felt the relaxation somewhat strain away as he prepared himself.
"You know, I worried when you… went away. Our story somewhat got out of hand and your fate was gripping me. I could only guess what this had to feel like for you – and it scared me."
She spoke swiftly, hardly even pausing to take a breath. Maybe she was relieved to finally speak about this to him, or maybe she was anxious, or maybe she didn't want him to interrupt her speaking… Eragon thought it was better to await the answer and stay silent.
"It really scared me. And even though I knew you are strong enough to cope with it, I felt bad knowing your new life and the beginning of such a great future had to start with such pain… You didn't answer me yesterday and I understand and respect your decision if it is still the same today. I only worried… worried whether you felt pain for a very long time…"
Again she rested her head on her knees, her arms now wrapped around her shins, and looked at him. Looked at him so deeply and profoundly caring that Eragon felt his inhibitions melt away like snow besides a fire. But still other things worried him.
"I don't want our past to burden our future though", he smiled kindly at her, "I don't want to relive a painful past while a quite pleasant present is just there in front of me."
"This is very wise of you…", Arya answered him, yet her gaze remained insistent. She didn't pressure him with her intensity, but Eragon saw that she wouldn't let go of her thoughts, that she didn't want to distract herself – or got distracted – before she found an answer to her question.
He sighed. Who was he to deny her what she wanted? He had never been able to do so and neither could he now.
"Do I really have to explain what it felt like to lose you, Arya? You know what you meant to me back then, you read it in my name…", he noticed that her eyes widened for a moment, but that changed quickly and so he ignored it, "And if you have to let someone like this go, the most important person in your life, even though you know that it is the right thing to do, the only thing to do…"
He had to swallow suddenly and averted his gaze. It was so much easier to look into the beautiful crystalline liquid in front of him as his mind rushed back in time. The unease tightened the muscles in his chest, breathing became harder.
"It is hard to explain how this felt to me. It wasn't the first time I felt pain like this, but assuming that I might very well never, never see you again… My world was for a very, very long time not – whole anymore. Things had lost their colour and the sun her warmth and I felt like being caught in cold and pale winter… In the beginning I sometimes thought that I would never get over this, that the pain would never fade, even though reason told me otherwise. For more months than I cared to count it felt like this to me."
He took a short pause, but not one to think. No, thinking seemed not to be the right thing to do now. But he felt – and surprisingly so – relief wash over him as he spoke to her about his suffering. Relief that felt like clear, cold water that washed away an ache so old and deep that he had nearly forgotten that it still existed.
Arya was patient. She listened intently, or so he thought, because he couldn't hear even the slightest of movements at his side, no rustling of cloth over her skin, not even the sound of her breath as she sat beside him. But he was so painfully aware of her that she couldn't have made her presence any more obvious even if she were yelling at him.
"Then, after quite some time, with the distraction of our first students, the company and the challenge they posed, it got somehow better. The desperation settled into acceptance to that time, but it still, still was… difficult. So incredibly difficult… and that is another reason why I just couldn't make myself contact you again for I was scared to look into your eyes and feel the distance… I was so sick of the pain to that time, Arya, I was so very sick of it."
He had to stop speaking after that and a rather long and not very comfortable silence spread between them. The presence of Arya, still so vibrant and intensive, felt suddenly burdensome, even though he was sure that her leave-taking would feel even worse. So Eragon was glad that she made no move to leave him, yet he regretted to have lost the ease they had shared before.
After a long minute he took his courage and turned his face towards her. Her pose hadn't changed much this last few minutes, the only difference in it was that she now rested her chin on her knees so that she could look at him with more ease.
And so she still did, scrutinizing him intensively with wide eyes whose expression wavered between sadness and wonder. Eragon thought that she looked quite overwhelmed. He was sure she didn't expect him to reveal so much – he was surprised himself. Yet he had felt a sudden urge to share this experiences with her, to finally get rid of the accumulated feelings and memories he held inside.
He wanted to share.
"Arya?"
A flicker in her dark eyes.
"Yes?"
The breathy tremor in her voice told him everything; she was just as touched as he was. His words left his mouth just as softly. As he spoke he never took his eyes away from hers, but he couldn't help to feel his mind drift away.
"Do you remember how it was before? Before I left Alagaësia and before you became queen... Do you remember what we once had?"
He didn't know what made him ask this. He was aware that in a way it wasn't a question at all as he knew the answer as surely as she did. But some urge just made him ask or rather tell her - he just wanted her to understand. He wanted her to feel – to feel what he felt like.
"I know what you mean", she whispered and looked down for just a second, "It is hard to understand, isn't it? To reunite past and present ... Who we once were, who we are now..."
Their words were so very alike; it elated him. Without thinking much about it Eragon followed the urge that grew within him – he lifted a shaky hand and ever so slightly let it rest upon her soft cheek. He watched the twitch of her features, but didn't feel worried because of it. The gleam in her eyes had already reassured him.
"Is it really you? I remember so much... Is it still really you?"
His words couldn't make her gaze waver, this time there was nothing to dull the glowing green that penetrated his very being. Yet his skin tingled as she laid her own hand above his and pressed it more securely to her cheek.
"Of course it is me, Eragon. Who else should I be?"
"You can never know... The world keeps twisting and turning and we cannot help but to follow its lead", Eragon sighed with a tired voice and his thumb brushed ever so slightly along her slanted cheekbone, but it wasn't that that widened Arya's eyes, but the sudden closeness of his body as he very carefully leaned into her. Eragon held her gaze as long as he could, till he lost it due to their proximity. The smell of her skin and her hair filled his senses as his lips got ever closer to her pointed ear.
"The very same, yes?", he waited a moment to let her prepare for what he wanted to say, "Arya..."
And then he whispered her name, her true name, the one she once told him, softly into her ear.
It took only a fraction of a second. A fraction of a second and he knew who sat beside him, for the tremor that shook her body proved the words he had spoken to be true.
She was still the same.
She is still Arya, the Arya I knew. My Arya.
He couldn't help the wide smile that brightened his features.
And he couldn't prevent what happened next. The elation to know, to see her again was just too much. Maybe he wouldn't have done it if the fire of the night's magic wasn't running through his veins, but he really couldn't put all the blame on this dazzling feast.
He took his hand away from her face, untangled his other one from her fingers and then gently, carefully, yet without hesitation laid his arms around her back and drew her body into his. There wasn't that much of a gap for him to close – they had already been this close.
For a second her body tensed, but that changed quickly and he felt her muscles slackening as her scent and her warmth engulfed him into bliss. She didn't wrap her arms around his body though, but laid her hands gently onto his upper arms, her grip both firm and gentle.
She didn't resist or deny his boldness, for he was sure he was quite bold, and that made him very happy. And suddenly he was there and she was there, and in a way they felt together for the first time again. As though he would have seen her – found her – just this very moment.
Only one doubt drenched his thoughts in this moment of perfection: She didn't ask him about his name in return and he wondered about the reason for that. Did she know what he knew? For he knew that he wasn't the one she had known by name anymore. Maybe that was the explanation for her hesitation. Arya would know better than to embarrass herself by asking a name she knew wasn't true.
He respected this decision, if his guess was right at it, and he would wait for her to finally ask it until she – they – were ready for it.
They remained locked together like this for a very long time and neither of them desired to break away from the touch they shared. The comfort it brought was just too good to deny.
Eragon couldn't image anything that ever, ever could make up for the time he had suffered, had mourned her loss, but in this comparatively short moment, as he felt her warm breath beside his ear and this small midnight lock that brushed his temple, he found a joy, a solace that made him believe that there was mercy and grace in this world after all.
It took a long time till they reluctantly straightened themselves again. Their arms withdrew slightly with the motion, Eragon's slid from her back to rest shallowly upon her upper arms as though he just couldn't stand to cease his touch on her completely. But Arya raised her hands as they locked eyes again and rested her slightly shaking fingers on each side of his face. Eragon had to shut his eyes for a moment as he felt the soft touch on his warmed up skin.
Serenely they stared into each other's eyes, both filled with a mixture of deep joy and reluctant shyness that made up the purest way a heart could feel – could love. The gentlest smile appeared on Eragon's face as he realized what had just happened between them and was reflected just a second later by Arya. It was beauty, her smile.
Accordingly, Eragon was startled as it suddenly faded. She paused obviously and something in her gaze changed, her eyes widening in what seemed both curiosity and fascination. They looked away from his, but didn't leave him. A bit worried Eragon wondered at what she thought as she apparently watched her own fingers that never left his face. He drew slightly back as Arya didn't explain herself and his unsureness only grew.
"Wait", she said urgently though and Eragon halted in his movement. Her fingertips still traced slightly over his cheeks, feeling his skin, "I have never - "
But she was interrupted by a boisterous laugh from him as he understood. Arya for sure had never touched another human like this. And he hadn't shaved for nearly three days now.
"It feels... strange", she whispered in owe as she still felt the stubble on his cheeks and above his upper lip with her fingertips.
And then her laugh mingled with his and only sparked more delight in Eragon as he saw and heard her laughing, really laughing, her bell-like voice ringing beautifully within his ears, her eyes glowing. And he laughed with her till he was out of breath, laughed about the sheer ridiculousness of the moment and about the act of caprice that seemed to be their fate. And Arya didn't remove her hands until they both had calmed down again.
With a last muted chuckle Eragon folded his arms behind his back and leaned back against the bolder. In an attempt to clear his head he looked up to the stars that sparkled brightly in the utter darkness that surrounded them. Only the large moon outshined their brilliance. It must be late.
"Yes", he could hear Arya sigh as though she had read his thoughts, "I guess it is time..."
Before he could answer her he could hear a rustling beside him that told him that she had risen to her feet. When he opened his eyes he found her indeed standing beside him and looking down at his face with warmth in her eyes.
"We still have a feast to attend, I fear", she extended her hand, "Come on. Come with me."
Smiling he took her hand, but he didn't use it as the help for getting up she had offered it as. He just held it within his own while he rose to his feet. She was right, Eragon thought, they still had a job to do tonight and the way was long. Yet not long enough, in his opinion.
"You are looking worried suddenly", Arya nearly whispered and took another step towards him, "There is no need. Why are you worried about the ceremony?"
"I am not worried about the ceremony", he sighed and his voice got very low, "I am worried about tomorrow."
He felt her hand tightening around his.
"I know", her words were nothing but a whisper in the wind, yet there was determination in her face, steel in her eyes, "But do you know what, Eragon?"
"What?", he asked back and couldn't completely keep a smile from appearing on his face.
"I don't regret that I have invited you to come here after all, even though I have been scared, too. I made the right decision in the end, even though I haven't been sure of it, in the beginning. And even though fate had decided to bring us in such different ways onto this world, I don't believe anymore, after all that had happened, that this shall be the end."
Her eyes softened slightly now and Eragon watched her sudden declaration with owe.
"You are the best friend I ever had. And no matter what fate might bring us in the future, I know that we will see each other again. I will believe in it. I simply will believe in it."
It took Eragon a second to process all the fascinating things she said. In the end he was simply touched. Touched to such a decree that he could do nothing to show his gratitude but with the smile on his face and the touch of his hands as he took her other hand too and squeezed them gently.
A moment later he was amused though.
"I am in the presence of a true rarity, it seems."
Arya frowned at his words and the tilt in his voice that alone spoke for his cheeriness.
"An elf that stops reasoning and dares to truly believe is for sure a sight to behold. Maybe wonders do happen after all", he winked at her, "And I think it's my duty to stay close to witness it, isn't it?"
Her frown disappeared as she listened to his words, but the confusion didn't leave her face completely. As though she didn't quite know what to make out of his words. It made Eragon laugh.
"Come on now, your people are waiting for you."
With that he softly led her away from the bolder and the small stream, towards the edge of the meadow and underneath the thick blanket of pine trees. And Arya followed him, walking silently at his side with one of her hands still in his.
"Eragon", she whispered again, yet surrounded by only silent trees and darkness her voice felt so much louder to him – surrounded by only trees, it felt so much more intimate to him.
"I really regret that you have to leave again."
"No, I don't regret in the slightest to leave, Arya. But I regret dearly that I have to leave you behind again."
She stayed silent. Longer than Eragon would have expected. He wondered. He wondered at how strained her words suddenly were.
"Let's not talk about it anymore. We are together. Now."
Yes. We are. Now.
It was a few hours before dawn. Before dawn and before the werelight in the Menoa Tree would dim and mark the end of the Agaetí Blödhren. But it only just began.
Eragon was sitting in the first line of a vast circle of people with Fírnen and Saphira at his side and they all watched her. They all watched and listened to Arya who stood on a root of the giant tree again and spoke about the last century, about the progress they all had made, all the races and Alagaësia itself.
She also spoke of the Order where all the races were united to became one entity. She said that she was proud to be called one of them and of what they had accomplished. And how glad she was – and how glad we all could be – that there are again dragons, both wild and bound, flying in the skies and of the Riders that lead them.
When she concluded her speech she came to sit beside Eragon whom she had honoured in her speech just as the dragons.
When Iduna and Nëya began to dance both the Queen and the Rider started to hum and weigh, just as all the others, along with the tune in the air and the rhythm of the dancing twins. Their dragons weren't sure whether they even realized that their hands had already found each other again.
Their shoulders touched as they leaned into each other, their bodies finding an rhythm all of their own as the drum beat carried on.
As always... I am very, very sorry that I took so long. And I am even more sorry because your reviews for the last chapter were so... damn amazing. Really, thanks to all of you who left me one of these most fabulous encouragements, you cannot imagine how good such reassurance feels to me, you are a balm to my soul! Thanks a lot!
So, this was the pinnacle of Eragon's time in Ellesméra. The deeper meaning: I am done now (finally ;) with the reconciliation. Now Eragon and Arya are (I hope) where they once were at the end of Inheritance, I hope I got it right, you tell me.
I small kind of epilogue will follow now to conclude this and then let's FINALLY proceed and as Arya said so fittingly: Then let's not talk about it (this damn separation) anymore. ;)
Hope you liked it!
Greetings, AryaNuanen
PS: I think you are right, Drottningu Breol. I thought too that I write quite the Eragon that we know from the books and not the one that had lived already a hundred years... It's hard for me to get that right, I admit, for the picture of him in my head is still the one I got to know from the books... I will try to do better, and I think it will get better for it will be different for Eragon and Arya to meet in Minuial where he belongs... She will be surprised I think of who he is now ;) Thanks for your opinion!
PPS: Please be especially gracious with me with grammar and/or spelling mistakes this time... As I (tried) to proofread this chap this evening I was tired enough to fall head-first onto my notebook...