Chapter 11. Arya gets ready to leave. Her mother comes to visit her.
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Arya smashed the other chair that sat away from the desk and over by her nightstand, tipping over the fairth of Faolin. Then she picked up other objects and threw them across the room, not caring where they landed. She could hardly contain herself as she packed bread and dried fruit for the journey. A knock came at the entrance to her rooms.
"Enter," she said, angry and not caring if anyone noticed. Queen Islanzadi entered the room, looking around to see what had happened. "Queen Islanzadi, what are you here for?" Arya asked with an edge to her voice.
Not knowing what had gotten into her daughter, she quizzically asked, "You were not there for the end of the Agaeti Blodhren?"
"I was busy," Arya answered her shortly.
"Doing what?" she asked.
"Packing to return to the Varden," Arya replied, "they need me much more than you do."
"But surely you can stay for a few more days," Islanzadi stated, "In fact, I would like it if you let someone else go in your stead."
"No!" Arya insisted, "my place is there, with the Varden. As much as I have enjoyed the time in Du Weldenvarden, it is time to get back. They are going to war, and they will need my counsel."
"I have already started preparing our people here for war, and I will send the strongest spell weavers we have. Do not go, Arya Svit-kona, my daughter, I beg of you!"
"I chose my path a long time ago, Islanzadi."
"I argued with you taking the yawe, and I still believe I was right, but the dragon has hatched, and a fine dragon Saphira is. Even her rider, Eragon-finiarel, shows great promise, even though I would have rather her hatched for an elf."
"Saphira chose who she thought was right," Arya spat back at her mother, "Human or elf, it does not make a difference. You claim to have the best interests of everyone at heart, you present the ring that you gave to Brom to Eragon as an Vinr Alfakyn, and yet here you dishonor the one you call 'finiarel'." (Vinr Alfakyn Elf Friend)
"I am sorry, I do not mean it as such," Islanzadi backpedaled, "I am truly glad with all my heart that the Dragon Rider is faithful to his cause, and will never join Galbatorix."
"Yes, you should be," Arya retorted.
"My daughter, I have wronged you for so many years, please stay here and allow me to make it up to you," Islanzadi begged.
"No, mother, you condemned me to a life away from you when you rejected me all those years ago," Arya stated, "Do not ask me to change whom I have become."
"Then you canmot forgive me?" Islanzadi asked.
Arya thought for a moment, and spoke slowly so her mother would understand, "Yes, I can forgive you, but it is not so easy for me to forget. I spend more of my time with dwarves and humans then I do with my own kind, and just because the egg has hatched does not end my duty, the duty I swore to uphold when I took the yawe on my back shoulder. Don't forget, there are still two more eggs which Galbatorix has that remain unhatched. So it took twenty years for Saphira's egg to hatch, I only hope it will not be another twenty years for us to steal the other eggs and see them hatch, but if it is another twenty years then so be it, I must do my duty, even if it costs me my life."
"Do not say that, Arya, my only daughter. I will not be Queen forever, and I would like nothing better than for you to one day take my place."
"Ah, but you see, I could never be as good a Queen as you, and my taking the yawe was, as I tried to tell you, the portion I saw fit to avenge my father, King Evander. So, do not trivialize what I chose my life to be like, instead be happy for me; for I am content with what I have become, my father's daughter, not my mother's."
Islanzadi just stared at Arya for a few moments, taking in what she had just said.
"Do you understand? I am my father's daughter. Fate has chosen this path for me, now I must walk it out," said Arya sternly. She had never dreamed of angering her mother this way, oh she had done it years ago, explaining to Islanzadi about her following the path of her father, for fate had indeed gifted her with the sword, there were very few among the elves who could match her, as well as her ability to use magic. She was very good with the bow, but not as good as any number of elves. Yet, even then, when she argued her case, she did so with dignity, afraid of her mother. Now, she told the truth, plain and simple. Her mother would have to see what Arya said now, or she could ignore it, either way, the course Arya's life followed could never be what Islanzadi had hoped for.
Islanzadi picked up the fairth of her father from the table, and then reached down and looked at the fairth of Faolin where it had dropped on the floor. "Are you having trouble with Faolin's death? Is that the reason for your outburst tonight," Islanzadi asked, pointing to the fairth on the floor.
Arya turned around, and picked the fairth of Faolin up. "I did not realize I had knocked it over," she admitted.
"Are you still so attached to him that you have completely messed up your room?" Islanzadi asked, concern evident in her voice, as well as resignation.
"So, you have heard what I had to say, after all these years, you have finally heard me," Arya thought.
"Well?" Islanzadi asked, "I still grieve over your father's death. He and I were so much in love, your being alive is evidence of that."
Arya thought about it for a few moments, and then she slowly said, "Yes, Faolin died at the hand of the Shade, but my duty was to transport the dragon egg, which I did successfully."
"So you are still grieving," Islanzadi said softly.
"No, mother," Arya replied, "I am not. Though I was young and very much in love when we became mates, the passion faded from our relationship a long time before he was killed. Let me put it another way, if fate allows me to live long enough I, too, would like to birth a child into this world, but not with Faolin. In fact, if he had not been killed, it might have taken me a little longer to realize it, but our love was over. So, yes, I grieved for him, as a mate, but not as a lover. Do you understand the distinction I am making?"
Islanzadi took a few moments to think about her daughter's response. Arya held her breath, hoping that her mother would finally see things the way they were, and not the way she wanted them to be. Islanzadi pulled herself erect and said, "Yes, Arya Svit-kona, I do understand the distinction you are making. Then I am going to assume you did not knock the fairth of Faolin on the floor."
"No, mother, I did not even realize it," Arya answered. "Faolin was yesterday," she thought. She tossed the fairth on the bed so casually Islanzadi could not help but notice.
"Then what is it that caused you to get so upset that you would tear up your room like this?" Islanzadi asked.
"I do not feel like discussing what has gotten me so upset, not now, probably not ever," Arya responded.
"So be it," Islanzadi said with resignation, "you have come a long way from the Arya I used to know, whether that is good or that is bad, I am still in too much shock to figure that out. Here, take your bow, arrows and your sword. May your journey be swift, without terror and please express my solemn oath to Nasuda the elves will make ready for war."
Arya bowed, and left the room, her mind swirling with thoughts of the Varden and Eragon. She still didn't remember Maud's words spoken to her. She made her way through Du Weldenvarden, the anger marked so clearly across her face that no other elf bothered her.
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