This story and me seems to have a love-hate relationship. I can see where I want to take this plot but have serious issues in actually getting to the good stuff here XD. Thankfully things will be picking up from here on out, thanks to my good friends the Ra'zac, so you should get more than one update a year. Welcome back very loyal old readers, and welcome to new ones hopefully not put off by my insane ranting.
Disclaimer: Does this even remotely resemble the real Eragon to you? The Inheritance Cycle is Chris Paolini's. All original material belongs to me.
"Just need to make one little adjustment and I'll be- hold still, you daft dragon!"
Eragon growled, the muscles underneath Brom's fingertips twitching mutinously. I feel like a horse.
"This isn't your first time wearing a saddle," Roran pointed out testily. "It can't be all that bad."
The brown dragon shifted uncomfortably when Brom finally pulled away, rising to his full and ever-growing height. True, he'd worn such equipment before, but not since Roran had needed a ride home after the fateful day of Saphira's hatching. And where the others had been a flimsy hide and a frayed rug, this saddle included all of the straps and buckles needed to keep a passenger firmly fixed on his back.
Old man, are you sure this thing is secure enough for him? I'll be left without a cousin and the world without its last hope if he slips lose during a barrel roll-
"Not helping," Roran growled. "Flying has never been my favorite past-time."
Saphira nudged him reassuringly. Much to Eragon's dismay, female dragons grew just as fast, and Roran's had more than tripled in size since her hatching. Unfortunately, so had her attitude, especially after she had started crudely stringing words together. Will be with me, Rider. One day only you and me.
He was my family first, you little-
One frosty look from Brom silenced everyone else. "Boy, stop dragging your feet and just climb on." Trust me, prolonging the inevitable only makes it worse." He chuckled knowingly. "My Saphira nearly threw me off for reacquainting her with my breakfast." Catching Eragon's snigger, his good humor shriveled up and died. "Dragon, shut up and keep focused; it's high time you learned how to carry a passenger properly without giving them either a fear of heights or something far more lethal."
Saphira perked. Though Eragon personally felt she had long since outgrown her adorability, Brom still had a soft spot for her, and the little devil knew it. Me, teacher?
"Your flying needs more work than even Eragon's, Saphira, especially after that run-in with that tree."
Eragon snickered. You mean the one that was squirrel-infested?
His favorite pest growled warningly at him as her scowling Rider fumbled with his straps. "At least my legs should be secure," he muttered. "Can't say for sure whether one of my arms will managed to be ripped off."
Human blue met draconic gold. Eragon sensed a slight smirk underneath Brom's bushy beard. "Only one way to find out."
With a mighty thrust of his wings, the brown dragon hurtled himself into the air, his roar drowning out the unmanly shriek of surprise from his back. Roran's eyes remained tightly clenched as he clung to the spike before him like Katrina. Folding his wings, Eragon's rise became a sharp dive that only cut off feet from the treetops. His cousin stayed on, proving both the strength of the saddle and his stomach.
In the clearing below, Saphira gracelessly bounded after them in a running start, just barely managing to clear the canopy and avoid a repeat of the last week's incident. She seemed a drunk duck to Eragon's graceful falcon.
Brom's mind connected to all of theirs. Eragon, just take it easy for now. Get used to a rider's weight on your back, how it throws off your balance ever so slightly. It could save you and your passenger's lives one day, especially if you're still small enough by sudden movements on your back.
The brown dragon complied, Saphira finally catching up to him as he even out his flight. His cousin's weight had made the quick dive harder to pull out of and was distracting when trying to concentrate on actually moving.
Clinging to my neck isn't helping, Eragon grumbled. It's like you're trying to choke me.
Well, sorry, Roran drawled sarcastically. I actually want to see Saphira make it to your blundering size! Eragon craned his head back. His human passenger was more than slightly green. Rather than risk losing his stomach contents, he bit stubbornly down on his lips.
Saphira made her way over to Eragon's side, staying just far enough away so his flapping wings didn't slap her out of the sky. Don't worry, Rider, I'm here to catch you.
The two cousins glanced down at the sapphire she-dragon and concurred she would have trouble even supporting someone half of Roran's weight. ...Thanks, Saphira. That means a lot.
Eragon spent his next two monotonous hours basically flying in circles as Roran became accustomed to changes and altitude. Saphira was constantly there by his side even as her Rider's unease finally lessened, doing her best to mimic the older dragon's obviously superior style. Brom's commanding presence was always in the corner of Eragon's mind, forcing him back to alertness whenever his thoughts started wandering and bombarding him with questions to ensure he had been paying attention.
For two hours, Eragon had tolerated being put through his paces like a mindless beast, but his patience had long since worn thin. With Brom scolding Roran for slouching in the saddle, he discretely checked Saphira's progress. The little she-dragon was keeping up to him more easily, noticeably less clumsier in her turns. Roran's nausea had abated with much of his trepidation.
Hey, Saphira, he called privately. Can Brom fly?
She gave him a scathing look. Of course not, stone-head. What human can without our help?
Then what's holding us back?
Saphira glanced up at the low-lying clouds so tantalizingly close above their heads. She glanced down. Even to her sharp eyes, Brom was little more than a blob through the bare branches. So far away, so unable to stop them if he students decided to misbehave. In fearful awe, Saphira turned back to him.
Eragon smirked conspiratorially. Roran's stopped panicking, but has he learned how to love flying? Don't you want to teach your Rider something today?
The two dragons made up their minds just as their mentor noticed their suspicious silence. Shoving him out of mind entirely, Eragon gathered up his strength and pumped his wings, surging ever higher as Roran's cries became lost in the howling wind. Saphira pounded after him, giddy with excitement even as she huffed in frustration.
You'll be in my place one day, Saphira! the older dragon yelled back. Then this screaming runt is your responsibility!
Too enthralled to bother with words, the she-dragon embraced them both in a blast of euphoria as she and her companion broke through the clouds. Through fresh eyes, Eragon felt a youngling's triumph at shattering the heavens for the first ever time, her sheer need to share it with those she cherished most.
Roran's newest scream morphed into a gallant whoop as two dragons roared along with him. Holding onto the saddle only to make himself more streamlined, he urged Eragon on.
From the ground, Brom stared after them with a bittersweet smile, and promised himself he would give Oromis and Glaedr a heartfelt apology for all of the hell he and his Saphira had put them through.
Unlike many young man of his background, Roran had been fortunate to receive some sort of education while growing up. Garrow had been adamant about it, anything to make sure his only son wasn't cheated out of his land by the sort that preyed on illiterate farmers. Roran knew his letters well enough to know when a contract was worded suspiciously and could struggle enough with a pen to write what could pass as a signature. His formal learning had progressed no further, for his father had wanted to pass on actually important lessons on farming and looking after the livestock.
Unfortunately for Roran, Brom didn't seem to share Garrow's values. The crotchety old man had refused to answer all but the most important questions about the Riders. Instead, he had shoved ancient books and scrolls into the younger's hands and told him to 'train' his brain in addition to his body.
Roran had stubbornly resisted Brom... up until he had been shooed away from an actual lesson for not knowing enough about that one dragon who had slayed a sea serpent. Three days later, both he and the dragons were still caught up in the book that had been unceremoniously shoved into his hands. Saphira curled up with him to shield her Rider against the cold. Eragon listened from the warmth of his nest, every so often pestering Roran into showing him the better pictures.
That's supposed to be menacing? Saphira snorted disdainfully. Please, it's just an overgrown snake. It doesn't even have claws and wings!
Her Rider glanced down at the book before them. Brom had lauded its creators for their intricate artwork, even if 'their portrayal of true events was unforgivably exaggerated'. Judging by how it dwarfed its Rider, the copper-scaled dragon was supposed to be decades older than Eragon. Not that the dragon's titanic size would have made it any harder for the demon beneath it to swallow it whole.
"No," he muttered. "But it still can make a morsel out of you."
Dragons have fire, dear cousin of mine, Eragon smugly pointed out. Sea serpents couldn't have even gotten close to us.
"Not if you're a cocky runt just begging to be eaten."
Saphira chortled hysterically as her flustered companion growled heatedly. As if it's a bad thing to be brave! How do you think Fundor and his Rider slew this thing in the first place? If it wasn't for them, then-
"As if their courage kept them from getting killed."
Saphira and Eragon both sharply turned to stare at him. Roran squirmed uncomfortably. "Forget it. It's not-"
His cousin rose up from his nest, lowering his neck so his golden gaze bore straight into his. No, Eragon said sternly, breaking through his barriers easily. Go on.
"Other Riders must have survived the Fall, those not in the Forsworn, those who didn't lose their dragons," Roran murmured, a cold pit of dread settling in his stomach. "Maybe they tried to flee north, across the ocean, tried to hide in the Beors or the Spine..." He clenched his fists, knuckles white. "And Brom's the only one left!"
Saphira hummed soothingly, her head going to rest in his lap. We don't know that for sure. There just has to be others out there!
"Saphira, Eragon; can either of you look me in the eye and tell me you'd leave your loved ones behind to be slaughtered? Even if there was little chance you'd make it back out alive? Are you not brave?" Roran sighed heavily at their silence. "I didn't think so. But Father, Katrina, Horst... all of Carvahall doesn't stand a chance in hell when Galbatorix finally finds us."
Eragon growled furiously. As if I would leave my uncle to the king! I thought we agreed we had to leave sooner or later anyway. You're a Rider now, and people are bound to notice that you're not aging the way you're supposed to anymore.
"Sooner," his human cousin answered resolutely. "Far sooner than we planned. The harvest is all done for the year, there's plenty of food stored down in the cellar, Father doesn't... need me anymore. And..." He blinked against the tears, but some still fell as glittering drops to Saphira's head. "I can't keep pretending I'm an ordinary farmer anymore. A farmer that has only heard of dragons in the old stories, a farmer that only needs to worry about winning over his future father-in-law, a farmer who won't outlive his own children!"
Utter silence reigned in the cave. Tears of frustration and anguish finally falling after weeks of denial, Roran held Saphira close, and wondered when it had become so easy to accept the inevitable.
Her Rider's frantic thoughts may have finally tapered off to a dreamless sleep, but Saphira found her own slumber still evaded her. Curled quietly up in her nest, she glanced over at the snoring Eragon, envious of his ability to not let his troubles gnaw at him.
Lucky bastard. Saphira padded over to his sleeping form, carefully moving a loose piece of branch away from his partially open mouth. Past experience had taught her exactly how easy they could accidentally be inhaled. How can you sleep in such a disorganized mess?
Leaving her amusingly disorganized companion to his rest, the sapphire she-dragon took off. The cloud-covered night allowed her to fly lower than usual, her nocturnal vision unaffected by any amount of darkness. She was unsurprised to glimpse a light still flickering in Brom's window.
Can't sleep either, I see. Brom's voice, calm and collected as always, echoed reassuringly in her head from across their now-open link. I take it this involves Roran?
Saphira wished she could land and converse face-to-face with her mentor, but with so many other houses close by, the best she could do was circle his cottage from above. My Rider worries for himself, for me, for everything! I do all that I can to cheer him up with my progress in flying, the pranks I pull on Eragon, but his mind always wanders back to the same grim thoughts. Her displeasure rippled across their connection. I wish you had never told him of the Ra'zac. Every cloaked figure he sees now is yet another servant of Galbatorix come to kill his loved ones!
A wanted man comes to feel his emotional attachments more than ever before, the old man intoned grimly. Roran would have invented his own monsters sooner or later. At least now he can be vigilant for the real threats.
He wants to leave and so does Eragon. They just can't pick a damned place! Vroengard is too obvious a hiding place for a wanted Rider and dragons, the distant north is unknown territory, and none of us want anything to do with the rebellion. Saphira growled. I hate being so young! Even Eragon has human stories to go by. My ancestral memories show me safe havens either burned to the ground or filled with the bones of my kind.
Brom's face appeared in the window. His blue eyes peered straight up as he did his best to make eye contact. All three of you are still so young, searching for your place in this world. Should you one day decide to join the Varden, that must be on your own. I realize now that my duty to Roran is to teach him in the way of his predecessors, a right that was his the moment you chose him above all others. You and Eragon have only instinct and ancestral memory from which to rely on. My responsibility to you two is to fill in those holes, to give you a chance of defending yourselves against Galbatorix and deciding your own destiny.
We need time, Saphira murmured. Time the Ra'zac won't give us. Surely they're searching for my egg even now!
She looked thoughtfully out toward the Spine, jagged and foreboding in the darkness. A mountain range only the maddest of trappers and hunters dared to brave, that even the Ra'zac would have difficulty traversing, a hiding place that wouldn't take weeks of travel to reach. Of course it wouldn't shelter them forever, but they needed only time. Time for her to grow, for Eragon to breathe fire, for her Rider to become strong enough to care for himself without the constant protection of dragons.
...How long were you waiting for us to catch on?
I've had the plans drawn up since before you started fluttering about, came Brom's wry response. Anonymously sent off the irreplaceable books in my collection to a dear friend by the time you spoke your first word, finished the teleportation spell last week, just finished the second saddle-
Teleportation spell?
Oh, aye, the old man chirped brightly. As far as Galbatorix knows, an object with the precise shape, weight, and density with your egg was transported from somewhere around Ceunon to a location in the general vicinity Aroughs. Should be a while before anyone catches on, what with all of that swampland to scour. Both cities are rebel hotspots, you know, being so close to Du Weldenvarden and Surda...
Saphira snorted dubiously. Is Galbatorix that much of an idiot?
If he was, he'd died decades ago. But it should divert enough of his attention and forces to buy us time. Days to slip away, to bury ourselves so deeply Roran can never be traced back here.
There was too much to simply explain. Instead, Brom sent weeks of careful planning across their link, allowing her to personally sort through every last detail. Saphira shifted through the load, both impressed and concerned over how a man had devoted so zealously himself to a single cause. She shivered in suppressed excitement. The mountains that penned her within Palancar Valley would not be able to do so for much longer.
This is brilliant, Saphira conceded, but will Roran be able to-
He loved Katrina enough to let her go, Brom murmured. You should know of your Rider's selflessness, Saphira. Whatever the cost, he'll do what needs to be done.
For once, Saphira begged to differ.
Guess who's finally leaving Level 1 behind? And can I detect a ROAD TRIP for next chapter! This seemed a perfect place to cut everything off. See you next year ;) (heh, I kid... hopefully.)
1. Character growth abound! Roran was an ordinary guy now slowly being forced to give up everything precious to him. And, as he has realized by now, Galbatorix was just that good at hunting down the Riders who escaped the Fall. I don't even want to think about what he did to those caught sheltering them, or the innocent bystanders who had no idea they were harboring a wanted fugitive. At least this Roran is selfless enough to want to leave for Carvahall's own good. Remember that canon!Roran hung around even as the Ra'zac terrorized an entire village when he could have either turned himself in or left the area altogether.
Saphira's a little more than a month old and Eragon's around four months. By this stage, Saphira and Eragon have matured greatly. They're more buddy-buddy now, even if there's still more senseless bickering and petty jealousy than you can shake a stick at. There are a few months left before those hormones kick in ;)