Elven Strongholds

Shea had been very silent on the ride towards the elven army. He answered questions when they were directly addressed towards him but he made no effort to start conversations with the others. Eragon began to feel vaguely worried about the young man.

I'm worried, Saphira. Eragon said.

Shea's fine, little one. Saphira comforted him.

Why isn't he talking to us? He's changed so much. Eragon asked desperately.

I don't know if you want to know you will have to ask Shea. Saphira answered patiently. Eragon agreed silently.

A message brushed the edge of his mind, and recognizing the mind as Shea's he opened his mind to it.

I've made camp. Night's falling quickly and I want to stop before I can no longer steer my horse. A brief series of pictures alerted Eragon to the spot of Shea's camp. Wordlessly Saphira began to head towards the spot and soon they landed. Arya slid off and sat by herself, but Eragon walked towards Shea.

Shea was leaning up against a tree gazing thoughtfully at the three elf-stones that he held in his palm. Eragon sat down next to him, and was silent for a few minutes. Finally, Shea looked up and Eragon could see weariness mirrored in his eyes. The person Eragon had been seeing before was gone drowned by the stress that had befallen him since leaving the Varden's camp.

"May I see them?" Eragon asked. Unease flickered in Shea's eyes but he willingly handed over the elf-stones, hesitating for only a brief moment. Eragon gazed at them marveling at how close the color was to that of Saphira's scales. Then he handed them back to Shea. "Thank you for trusting me," Shea cracked a wry smile.

"I'm told that that is one of my biggest faults. I trust to easily," He said. Eragon practically shouted in relief. This was the first time Shea had offered info about himself since finding the elf-stones.

"People have said the same thing to me," Eragon said honestly. Shea looked back down at the elf-stones and continued rolling them around in his palm.

"So…we're heading towards the elves?" The way Shea said it was more of a question than a statement, as though he dreaded the prospect of meeting Arya's people.

"Yes, we are going to attend Glaedr and Oromis's funeral," Eragon's half-healed heart shuddered as he thought once again of his master's.

"I'm sorry," Shea said quietly. Eragon glanced at him in surprise. Shea looked at Eragon and Eragon was surprised by the sympathy he saw in his face.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because I can tell you cared," Shea said, and jumped up heading for the bedrolls set about the campsite. He paused as Arya came back into the clearing after heading off to wash up. "In the saddlebag," He said simply and lay down to sleep.

"What?" Arya asked confused. Eragon shrugged and walked over to the saddlebag and opened it. Inside was a small cloth bag, Eragon unrolled it and opened it. Big, juicy berries gleamed at him reminding him that he and Arya had not eaten dinner. He could almost see Shea picking the berries during the day remembering from one of their conversations that he and Arya were vegetarians. His heart swelled, and he turned to Arya.

"Shea, got us dinner," He said in disbelief. Arya stared at the berries, and a small grin crossed her face for a second.

"Enjoy," A sleepy Shea mumbled from his bedroll. "Now can you keep it down? I'm exhausted," Even Arya couldn't keep from laughing, Saphira and Eragon joined in. Shea smiled but was soon sleeping deeply.

Every day from then on marked a recovery. Shea continued to find berries, and roots for Arya and Eragon to eat while he would sleep or sit watching them silently. Arya seemed to be softening towards Shea, although Eragon could not find any reason as to why. Eragon tried to keep coaxing Shea into speaking but he offered much less about himself than before.

Soon enough, the three were at the elven army's stronghold. The elves were dressed in black mourning the loss of Glaedr and Oromis. Arya, and to some extent, Eragon were soon enveloped with the feelings of grief that ran high. They lingered with friends discussing quietly and comforting each other. Eragon marveled at the amount of emotion being shown by the elves, and he did not try to hide his sorrow.

Shea for his part was mostly ignored by the elves. He did not fit in with them and felt like a sore thumb. So he generally drifted along behind Arya and Eragon trying to be as inconpicous as possible.

The burial was a heart-felt farwell for everyone. It gave the elves and Eragon some small sense of closure and comfort. The elves began to sing and the song haunted Shea's inner soul. It filled the air ringing with sorrow, and grief; it pulled at the heart and brought tears to the eyes. Shea closed his eyes and allowed himself to be taken away by the magic of the song.

The bodies of Glaedr and Oromis were set in the middle of the camp, and arranged as naturally as possible. Saphira breathed fire out and watched as it slowly consumed the bodies of her masters. The flames flickered creating blinding gleams of light as it reflected off of and melted the gold scales of Glaedr. The flames burned away the harshness of the years on Oromis and soon all that was left was ashes.

A light wind whipped up and scattered the ashes, erasing the final remains of the old riders.

Hazelcloud: Sorry about the wait. I've been busy. I expect to get the next chapter up sometime in June. I really enjoy your reviews!