10. Empty
Their tears eventually stopped. Arya broke Eragon's embrace by abruptly standing and staring apathetically toward the canyon. In a leaden tone she said, "I'm hungry. Let us make our way to the lake." She started off without even glancing at him.
Eragon felt empty and drained. All emotion had escaped through his tears. Arya's mechanical manner wasn't at all shocking to him. Indeed, it seemed the only reasonable reaction given that he felt exactly the same. He stiffly stood and followed behind her, unconsciously increasing his stride until he arrived at her side.
After several minutes of walking in indifferent silence and never looking at each other or touching, Eragon dully said, "Arya, I know this is probably not the time to ask, but I feel as if nothing could bring me lower right now so I choose it as the opportune moment. Have you ever been with a man? Intimately?"
Arya stared straight ahead and answered without inflection, "No, Eragon, I haven't. Though I'm old, I am yet a virgin." In their emotionless state, it seemed like nothing that would have normally required delicacy needed it then.
At that Eragon felt a glimmer of something inside of him. That's something at least, he told himself. And that was all it took for his mind to begin functioning again, to begin working on a solution to this unsolvable problem.
What could it be? They both professed to want to remain together, each abhorring the thought of parting or spending their lives with anyone else. But how could they remain if they might never be able to satisfy one another's deepest desires?
Eragon decided to review the whole course of their entire relationship, over a decade long, to see if it would provide him with any clues. Without either of them knowing, it had begun when Arya—under the influence of the Eldunarí—had sent Saphira's egg to him in the Spine and had thereupon been captured by the Shade, Durza.
When Saphira had hatched for him and Eragon had become the first new Dragon Rider in over a hundred years, it set off a chain of events that had led to his departure from Carvahall, his quest to take revenge on the Ra'zac, and his eventual capture in Gil'ead. During those travels, he had seen Arya in dreams and been able to scry her without having ever met her. She seemed aware of him when he had used magic to reach her.
Thus it was that in Gil'ead, Eragon had been astonished to discover that she was captive in the very same prison, a chance that seemed like too much to be a coincidence as he thought about it again. And as improbable as their escape had appeared, he and Murtagh—with Saphira's help—had in fact managed to best the Shade and all the guards and escape with Arya in tow.
Then Eragon had sought to reach Arya's mind to discover the reason for her abnormally extended coma. When she informed him that she had been poisoned and would immediately die if she ended the self-induced sleep, the only solution to which was racing her to the Varden or the elves, he had once again set out to accomplish the impossible and reach the Varden in a frantic flight across half the continent. Against all odds, he had done it and managed to save her life.
Arya had thereafter felt in his debt for his service to her but never to the point of returning the affection for her that she could clearly see was beginning to grow in him. They had fought together in the Battle under Farthen Dûr, and she had saved him from Durza, her perfectly timed distraction allowing Eragon to defeat him. After the battle and Ajihad's death, she had reprimanded him for what she considered the foolish decision of swearing fealty to Nasuada.
They had travelled together much in the following months as she escorted him to Ellesméra to begin his training with Oromis. Their friendship had grown, as had his feelings for her. Eragon thought of the fairth he had made of her, mysterious and intimidating, and how she had shattered it on the ground; how he had sought to make amends; of the many weeks of comfortable companionship where he had told her all about himself and done his best to learn of her; of his boldness after being healed at the Blood-oath Celebration. She had rebuffed him, insisting that his age was an insurmountable obstacle, a relationship between them would be impossible, and his feelings were only distracting them from their duty.
Arya had left the next day, and his heart had ached from missing her and also from the despair of unrequited longing. Once Eragon had rejoined the Varden in Surda to help in the battle, he and Arya were not as often together. But after the Battle of the Burning Plains where he and Roran were reunited, she had done something unexpected. He and Roran had gone to rescue Katrina, and Eragon and Saphira had defeated the Ra'zac. But Eragon had decided to stay behind to determine Sloan's fate. As soon as Arya learned he was in enemy territory, she had immediately run in search of him and found him in the unassuming village of Eastcroft. They had then travelled back to the Varden and during that time, they had fought a group of soldiers, confessed difficult feelings, and developed deeper trust. He had created a beautiful lily for her that a group of spirits transformed into gold and precious gems.
They had little opportunity to be together before he had run to Farthen Dûr, and he had thereafter returned to Ellesméra to learn more from Oromis. Then in the battle at Feinster they once again fought side by side after he and Saphira rescued her and Blödhgarm from the overwhelming onslaught of nearly a hundred soldiers. In Feinster they had defeated the newly formed Shade, Varaug, once again working as a team. The accomplishment seemed to inspire them toward some newfound revelation, which they never fully discovered as Eragon had, right at that moment, revealed to her the news of Glaedr and Oromis's deaths. Arya had fallen into his arms, their first unlikely embrace.
They fought side by side in all of the subsequent battles leading up to the attack of Dras-Leona and also spent a great deal of time sparring with one another as he worked to improve his swordsmanship. Eragon didn't know if Arya had always chosen to be at his side so she could help to protect him out of a sense of duty or if it was something else. There had been their intensive fencing practice under the tutelage of Glaedr's Eldunarí; the infiltration of Dras-Leona and their capture by the monks, which they had also escaped against all odds; and their fighting at the city wall where he had rescued her from the hands of many assailants.
Everything, all the way up until they had together defeated Galbatorix and Shruikan, demonstrated this same pattern over and over: they faced insurmountable odds; decided nonetheless to move forward without a definite plan in spite of almost certain defeat, since giving up was an unacceptable alternative; and somehow they had always emerged victorious.
Eragon suddenly felt an inexpressible sense of relief. He realized that leaving Arya—letting her go—was not the most courageous course after all, but was in fact giving in to defeat and letting an impossible-seeming situation keep him from moving forward because he didn't yet know the end from the beginning. The courageous thing to do was to move forward into the darkness, though they could not yet see a clear path or a solution to their problem, and trust that one would appear when they most needed it.
Faith, he thought in amazement. The solution was faith. The answer was there all along, Eragon just needed to put all the pieces together to recognize the pattern that had never yet failed them.
Eragon could see that something bigger and more powerful than themselves had been guiding them toward each other all along, even though so many things had sought to separate and overcome them. He didn't know what to call it—fate, destiny, God, gods—but it was undeniable. He and Arya were supposed to be together. Too much had happened over and over again to attribute it all to coincidence.
Even having Fírnen hatch for her so quickly after all of the years Saphira never did, which made Arya the first new elf Rider in over a hundred years, just as Eragon had been the first human Rider, also fit the pattern. Eragon guessed that becoming a Rider was the only incidence with the power to make Arya regret her decision of accepting the monarchy. That dissatisfaction had eventually driven her to abandon her duty against all logic. Fírnen was also the only way she could have reached the Isle on her own in order to reunite with Eragon. Arya had overcome impossible odds so they could be together. It was too much for coincidence.
Eragon was as sure of this as he had ever been of anything. He reached for Arya's hand, becoming aware for the first time that they had reached the lake and were making their way toward the saddlebags on the far shore.
Fírnen and Saphira were joyfully swimming in the water. The dragons reached for their Riders' minds to share their delight, and it was then that Fírnen felt the emptiness inside of Arya. His concern was immediate and, rightly sensing that Eragon was somehow responsible, he demanded, What is wrong? Eragon, what have you done?
Eragon ignored Fírnen for the time and focused on Arya. "Arya, I figured it out. I know what we must do. Let me show you." She had stopped when he touched her hand, and Eragon turned her toward him, pressing his forehead against hers and reaching for her mind. Her unconscious concentration on the nothingness inside of her had created an impregnable wall between their minds as strong and tall and thick as any he had ever encountered.
Please, Eragon begged. Let me in.
Arya sighed wearily and lowered the wall enough for Eragon to notice the same devastation that had so concerned Fírnen, but he didn't falter. Instead, he immediately began to play back everything he had just remembered, flying through the thoughts and memories so much faster than he could have spoken them and emphasizing the pattern that had become undeniably clear to him. They had always been there for each other, repeatedly facing unbeatable odds and somehow always triumphantly overcoming them, even when they hadn't known how they would.
Do you see it? Eragon insisted. It's clear what we must do, for we have done it already too many times to count. We must face this impossible situation and move forward together, though we don't know how it will work out. We must trust that somehow it will, for it always has. We must have faith, Arya. We're supposed to be together. To deny that would be to defy whatever force has driven us toward one another all these years and to throw in its face the blessing of being together now. We can't turn our backs on that. I feel certain—more sure of anything than I ever have before—that this will work out. Somehow, for all our sacrifice and courage in enduring unbearable trials and suffering, we will be rewarded. I know it. Can you trust me?
Eragon felt the tendrils of hope in Arya's consciousness. "This pattern you have discovered is indisputable," she conceded. "I don't know what I think about faith, Eragon. You know elves generally do not hold to beliefs in higher powers or divine beings, as do other races, but I have faith in us, Eragon, and I do trust you. You have proven your worth and wisdom in every difficult decision you have ever had to make. I can't deny that we have emerged victorious from every impossible situation we have ever faced. Perhaps our luck—or faith, if that's truly what it is—will not fail us now. We may yet have a family after all."
Arya then leaned into him, exhausted by the emotional distress of the past hour, and Eragon gently lifted her into his arms.
Fírnen and Saphira were anxiously awaiting an explanation of the strange exchange, for Eragon and Arya were unintentionally blocking their dragons from entering this most personal problem. Yet to ease their worry, Eragon briefly relayed the entire dilemma so the dragons wouldn't pester him any longer.
I am so sorry, little one, Saphira sympathized. I must admit that I too never foresaw this eventuality. It bespeaks your growing wisdom and maturity that you identified and resolved it before entering into your union.
Yes, Fírnen agreed. Eragon's course seems the only logical solution, though it relies solely on faith. It is clear that thus trusting things to work for the best has never failed you before. To leave one another would be your undoing, your destruction.
They spoke only to Eragon. Arya had retreated into her mind to allow herself to recover, and Eragon knew she was too distant to be aware of the discussion.
We will consult with the Eldunarí to discover if they, in their combined knowledge, know of any instance in history where a human and an elf reproduced, Saphira consoled. Even if it does not exist, we must not despair, for as you have ascertained, facing the impossible together has never prevented you from being successful before.
Thank you, but please wait until after we're married. I want to embrace what little hope we have without discovering something to the contrary, Eragon thought. Then he added, Forgive me, but I do not wish to contemplate this any longer. Please leave me in peace.
They both respectfully withdrew, and Eragon walked with Arya to where their belongings were, sitting with her still cradled in his arms. Her head drooped against his shoulder, and Eragon leaned back against the saddlebags, resting his head and closing his eyes to clear his mind.