Chapter 12
Laughter Two Ways
Sweat poured off the limbs of the Dragon Rider and his blue and gold companion. Their brows contorted with effort and their fists clenched tightly. A muscle near Eragon's eye twitched and Blödhgarm's ears laid flat against his head. Their nostrils flared. Finally, they took a deep breath in and relaxed.
They finished singing.
"Is it always this much work? How did anyone survive creating Ellesmera?" Eragon asked, panting and taking a swig from his wineskin.
"There were several more voices," Blödhgarm responded, cocking his head and surveying their work. They had chosen to shape a training area for new Riders as they arrived in Du Welden Frethyen. The idea was a bit unorthodox compared to the training of the original Riders but they and the dragons agreed that some changes to the curriculum had to be made to accommodate lack of teachers. "and all were familiar with these ways." He eyed Eragon who still grumbled over the fact that they couldn't cut and construct the way humans did, although he understood the reasons and even agreed with them on principle.
Trees had been sung into a ring around the area and reinforced, preventing stray bits of magic, arrows, or swords, from escaping. Holes had been designed in the setup so that Eldunarí could be placed there and train with individual Riders, allowing for far greater education than Eragon and Blödhgarm could provide themselves.
They moved quickly through the work, having completed the design for the dragons' quarters, including area for paired and unpaired eggs to be kept and eventually hatched. Eragon was constantly concerned that an unpaired dragon hatchling would be coming any day, since there was so much more stability available now than ever before. He wasn't sure how to handle living alongside those dragons and was afraid that they might resent being left out of a bond with a Rider. But Saphira reassured him that the species would notwant all of its members to be bonded that way and that it would be for the best. One egg, a royal purple one, had started to shake, and they were certain it would hatch very soon.
Eragon eyed Blödhgarm speculatively, carefully wording the question he had been meaning to ask for a long time.
"No, Shur'tugal," the elf answered the unsplken question, knowing which way Eragon's mind would prod him, "although the honor of being a Rider would be immense, I do not feel shunted because I am not one." He stopped, considering a daisy at his feet and crouching to caress it. Eragon followed him to the ground and placed his hands in the grass, feeling the warmth of the energy there. "My role here," the elf finally spoke, turning his gaze upward and gesturing at the work they had completed, "is not as a Rider but as an advisor—and friend—to you and Saphira and the Eldunarí and the future Riders. If an egg hatched for me I would be a student and too preoccupied with that role to serve the cause in this one. No, Shur'tugal, I am not dissatisfied."
Eragon inclined his head, deciding it would be best to accept the elf at his word. He was surprised to realize that he actually did trust him, and smiled as they stood, wordlessly agreeing the time was right for lunch.
Saphira soared down to meet them as they approached Angela and Tawny's residence, a simple structure sung out of the trees. Eragon was sure the home's size was deceptive but decided he'd prefer not to know having long ago accepted Angela with all of her eccentricities. He greeted Saphira with a gentle brush of the mind as she landed.
The hunting here is good, she was practically dancing and her behaviour reminded Eragon of a puppy or a kitten, and I had fun! The prey here are wonderfully fearful of dragons!
Eragon smiled, rubbing beneath her jaw and viewing the images she showed him of deer and other creatures of the forest. And you're sure having so many dragons here won't overtax the population?
Quite sure, she said solemnly but still with excitement, we could gorge for eons and never run out. They are plentiful and they are varied—they breed rapidly.
Eragon tried not to consider "breeding" and kept up his smile. Are you eating more? You don't look too different yet. They sent out a questioning thought to Glaedr and the other dragons, although typically only Glaedr responded.
She will not change physically much as she will lay an egg that is small relative to her body. However, Saphira you must make sure you eat more bones and hunt larger prey that have thicker bones. I know it is uncomfortable but the calcium is important for our body to develop the shell of the egg. They were surprised to hear back from a female dragon, Coralia, one of those who had fallen early in Galbatorix's reign. Eragon supposed it made more sense for a female dragon to respond and he could feel Saphira's gratitude. You will likely lay your egg in about three weeks.
Eragon was stunned. They had discussed this only a little bit but he felt like he was about to become a father, despite how ridiculous that was. He knew it was silly. But he was afraid. He thought of how worried he had been when Saphira had been small and the nightmares that had come with that. He swallowed, hard, and focused on Coralia's words as she explained the birthing process. He quickly wished he hadn't been paying attention and glanced helplessly at Blödhgarm who had been privy to the conversation since they had questioned the Eldunarí and saw his same expression matched his own feelings. He was grateful to not be alone and realized for the first time that he and Blödhgarm were each outnumbered and the species minority in the situation. Since coming to Stonrakr, each had been the only representative of their own species, and the realization was a heavy one.
You must decide soon, Saphira, Coralia's voice resonated heavily, darwing eragon and Blödhgarm back into the conversation, whether your egg will be bonded. Eragon can perform the magic necessary to bond the egg to a Rider and when the first eggs return to Alagäesia on the ship that brings the first new Riders, you must decide whether yours will be on it.
To Eragon's surprise, Saphira's first thought was ferocious, imagining Fírnen meeting their baby before she did. However, she recognized that she would ultimately have more time with the child either way and quickly quelled the feeling. The decision was a hard one; she would never want anything but to be bonded with Eragon, but her mother had been a wild dragon and a big part of her wanted to have the same for her child. However, dragons' relationships with their offspring were quite different than those of other races and she had to consider how her exposure to humanoids had influenced her view of these relationships.
Eragon put a loving hand on Saphira's side and Blödhgarm politely looked away, allowing them the warmth of a private moment. Saphira understood Eragon's support without needing any words and she nipped his sleeve gently.
I love you, Little One.
I love you, too. He smiled and they were happy. The moment was spoiled when his stomach grumbled and Blödhgarm laughed, surprising Eragon and Saphira with his newfound freeness.
"I'm starving!" He moved like he was dancing, the way the elves in Du Weldenvarden had, and ran towards Angela and Tawny's house.
Eragon and Saphira glanced at each other before following Blödhgarm, a lightness in their steps and hearts that they hadn't experienced for a long time. The witch's house smelled like damp mushrooms and earthy roots, as all of her dwellings always had, but the stew she had made, with cream for Tawny, was excellent and they shared the meal with gales of laughter, lots of smiles, and an easy familiarity that made Eragon feel like he had truly found a home. Together, they represented at least three species, maybe four, plus Saphira and the Eldunarí. But somehow they had become family and Eragon was grateful, suddenly, for everything he had experienced.
Throughout the meal, it seemed like Blödhgarm couldn't keep his eyes away from Tawny's small face. Eragon wondered whether the attraction was friendship, amazement, or something else, and couldn't help thinking whether a werecat-elf relationship would be possible.
"I'm glad we're not in the pact!" Tawny announced during a conversation about the new Riders, "I don't think very many werecats would want to be Riders, and doesn't it seem a little unfair? We already have two forms." Eragon was surprised by her reasonability but not, apparently, as much as Saphira.
I am glad, too. She responded, I don't think it would work well for either race and it's far more interesting getting to know you than having to talk everyday! Everyone laughed and Saphira snorted happily, licking the skin between her toes as part of her self-cleaning routine.
Tawny smiled, flashing her bright eyes and pointed teeth, and shifted into her cat form, crawling across the legs of those seated at the table in order to reach Saphira and crawl across her arms onto her back. They both purred and Eragon laughed, enjoying the image of two very cat-like creatures enjoying time together.
Blödhgarm seemed to glow, watching Tawny with big eyes and a small smile. He caught Eragon's gaze and shrugged, skewering a mushroom with his fork and popping it into his mouth cheerfully. Eragon shook his head and glanced at Angela, who was laughing.
Family, he decided, is never really what you expect.
Saphira provided her perspective on the strange lumpy fleshy thing Roran and Katrina called a baby and agreed wholeheartedly. Eragon laughed and returned to his meal.
When the night ended, Saphira and Eragon left, circling overhead for a while before retiring to the hollow sung out for the two of them in the rockface above the ocean. Although they both enjoyed being on the ground in a tree-home, they also enjoyed the sounds of the ocean, and agreed that if they would be the default leaders of the Dragon Riders, they should have a position that emphasized that. Angela also went outside, muttering something about making a new star map.
"Can't seem to stay still but then nothing interesting every really does," she grouched, scooping up parchment, quill, and ink, and exiting the same way Eragon and Saphira had gone, using the dragon-sized entrance towards the beach.
Tawny, having returned to human form, watched Blödhgarm push a piece of roast potato around his shell plate for a while before finally speaking.
"I like you," she said.
He smiled softly, looking up to meet her stunning eyes. "I like you, too."
She purred gently and strolled out of the room, upstairs to where she slept in a small pillow basket near Angela's bed. He grinned and left, feeling much better than he had for a while. They didn't discuss anything, nor did they need to. They were practically immortal and they had all the time in the world to sort out whatever they wanted to sort out. Elves and werecats, lasting as they are, tended, it seemed, to be rather changeable, and it was better not to rush any decisions now.
He sung himself to sleep, growing a dark blue patch of himself into the creamy fur of his belly, as Angela the Herbalist marked down a new constellation of stars that seemed to dance around each other each night. Elfcat, she wrote, positively cackling to herself as she rolled up the parchment and retired as well.
Zi'Nawne, growing restless, stared at the map she had pulled from the scribe's library.
The Scribe. She thought carefully, preferring not to use his name again. She twitched, scratching her scars and twisting her neck around as she tried to concentrate.
Concentrating. That had been so hard recently.
Ya'Mino was mad.
Suddenly furious, she upturned the table, throwing the map on the ground and yowling.
Tears sprung from her eyes and she crumpled, picking up the map again and setting it on the table.
She twitched.
Everything was too much. Her people needed a better leader than she was. Her duty as a Guardian was too much.
She stared around the room and out the window, still crying.
The moon. The walls. Cold empty stone.
The night was rich with stars and sounds and maga rippled just beneath the barely controlled surface of her powers. She brushed an ungloved hand along the windowsill and watched as the surface began to crumble. She growled, remembering her twenty-year exile in the ruins of her former home.
And then she laughed. The moon was too close, watching and listening. The moon was too close as she crumbled. The moon was too close, shining light on her desperation.
And she laughed.