Author's Note: This chapter was...tricky. I'm still not sure if it turned out QUITE how I wanted...but I wanted to post it so I could start writing the next chapter, which has Eragon. It's about time our poor main character got some face time...(laughs) Anyway...hope you like the chapter, and none of the characters seem...er...too out-of-character (Durza, I'm talking to you! (sweatdrop)). And I have no idea why Durza uses British curses. It just...sounded right, for some reason. And since no distinctly Alagaesian curses are really given in Eragon or Eldest, I've decided to just go with some modern curses. Let's assume they're translations...(sheepish laugh)
Chapter 19: The Breaking Point
Galbatorix and Eragon faced each other in the middle of the room, their eyes narrowed, their hands on their weapons. Behind them, their respective cohorts held their breaths. The tension could have been cut with Zar'roc, if anyone could have actually lifted the thing.
"So," Galbatorix said.
"So," Eragon said. But then Eragon, who was much more impulsive than Galbatorix and had poor decision making skills to boot, dove right in. "Galbatorix, we've got to something about Durza and Arya!"
"We?" the King said.
"Look, I hate you and you hate me," Eragon said. "But if we want to deal with this…we've got to join forces—just for now."
"Hmmm…you may have a point—those two have gotten totally unmanageable. Arya is corrupting Durza!"
"No, Durza is corrupting Arya!"
There was a moment of silence while the two glared at each other. Then Eragon sighed. "So what do we do?"
"…we've got to split them up," Galbatorix said. "There's just no other way. Here's the plan…"
Meanwhile, Arya and Durza were sitting in a different room. "Arya, why does this house have so many random, similar rooms?"
Arya shrugged. "Plot device. Anyway, we have other things to worry about. I don't know how successful we were…"
"I certainly wasn't successful. But Galbatorix never listens to anyone—why would he listen to me? I'm just a lowly minion…"
"You know, Durza, we might get more done if you had an ounce of self-esteem! Stop whining already!"
"You try being a minion," Durza muttered. "It's not a great job for building self-esteem. Anyway, you could stand to get some humility!"
Arya drew herself up, tossing her hair. "I'm an elf maiden, practically immortal, a great warrior, a powerful magician, and the most beautiful character in the entire story. Why should I have humility?"
"Because you have an annoying personality?"
"Oh, shut up. Anyway, what should we do now?"
Durza pondered this for a while. "…we could just go hang out with Subieko and Murtagh."
"No!" Arya said. "We have to show Galbatorix and Eragon that we won't be pushed around any longer!"
"Arya, you push Eragon around."
"Yeah, but only because I'm stuck being his love interest. Anyway we have to change this injustice."
"We should form out own side. Not the good guys, not the bad guys, the…the…"
"There isn't anything else—that's just the problem!"
"…the random guys."
"The random guys?"
"Yeah," Durza said, getting to his feet. "Yeah, the random guys! We do whatever we feel like—sometimes we're bad guys, sometimes good guys, sometimes we just hang around causing trouble for everyone!"
"Hmm…you may have something there! Come on—we need to make campaign posters."
"What for?"
"To convince people to join the random guys, of course!"
And the two ran off to find some markers and glitter pens.
-o-o-o-o-o-
"It was him," Durza whispered, staring unseeing at the blank mirror. "It was him…!"
Galbatorix had ordered the destruction of the sorcerers' camp—Galbatorix had caused Carsib's death. Nearly eighty years of seeking vengeance on the elves, and the real enemy had been right in front of him all along.
"General? General, what was the King's message? Any new orders?"
Durza turned, blinking. The voice seemed to come from far away, as if Durza was lost under deep water. It was some Lieutenant or other.
"…no new orders."
The man nodded and left. Durza turned to go as well, not really knowing where he was trying to go. Where was there to go anymore?
"He killed Carsib," Durza whispered. "He killed Carsib…I'll kill him!"
His steps quickened. In Durza's mind, a plan was beginning to take shape.
-o-o-o-o-o-
A new soldier was on duty outside of Arya's interrogation room. His name was Lars, and he was extremely puzzled. Lars had only recently been assigned to Gil'ead, and he knew almost nothing about General Durza, except of course that he was a terrifying monster.
When he heard that he would guarding a prisoner being tortured by the General himself, Lars had been terrified. He didn't want to see the sickening, gruesome things the General would be willing to do for information. Lars had imagined all sorts of horrible fates the victim might face: being dipped in boiling oil, the crushing of the fingers and toes, twisting sticks in the hair until it pulled out by the roots, being forced to swallow glass. It made Lars want to retch.
But to his surprise, the General was using a very different torture technique. Lars had heard that Durza had tried some more typical tortures—whipping, pulling out the fingernails, giving numerous small cuts and dipping them in salt water—but the elf had been too resistant. So now he was trying what was apparently the most horrible thing he could think of that would actually leave Arya alive.
"I don't understand it," Lars muttered. "What's so bad about leaving someone in a room by herself for a while?"
Lars was lucky Durza wasn't around to hear that. He probably would have demoted the poor man at once for stupidity.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Arya lay on her back in the cell. There was a soft mat underneath her, and her hands were unbound. She was in no pain; she felt nothing at all. There was a black hood tied over her head, but loosely, with plenty of room to breath. A cloth was wrapped around her ears, drowning out all sound. The room was dark and still and silent.
The room was closing in, choking her; the room extended forever, and she was lost in a black void. She was the only person in the world; she did not exist at all.
Arya had no knowledge of how long it had been. Perhaps an hour? Or had it only been a few minutes? Or…perhaps she had always been here. Maybe there was no outside world—maybe she had only dreamed the sun on her face, the wind in her hair, the taste of cool water on her tongue. She was utterly disembodied, too exhausted even to think or try to remember anything.
Arya was lost.
The door swung open, although Arya had no way of knowing. The room's design was very clever—out in the corridor, one first entered a door that led to a small, darkened hall, then went through a second door into the room. All light was kept out, and the door's hinges were always well-oiled, making them totally silent.
In the midst of the emptiness, Arya suddenly felt someone untying the cloth around her ears. A hand touched her shoulder. It was warm, living, something real and solid in the darkness. She reached out and grasped the hand, sobbing.
"Can you stand?"
She couldn't. Arya felt limp and weak, as if she were a wisp of cloud that might blow away any moment. The person, whoever they were, lifted her to her feet, supporting her. Arya took a hesitant step, then another, still hanging on to the stranger.
"Come this way," the stranger said, gently leading her forward. They went through the first door and the second, although Arya didn't know that—she was still wearing her hood. On and on they walked, for what seemed like an eternity to Arya. The journey was painfully slow, but step by step, Arya pressed forward. There was air on her face, cold stone floors beneath her feet—she was alive again.
Then Arya heard a door shut behind her, and the stranger pushed her onto a soft surface. She sat there, taking deep breaths, gently touching her face, her arms, making sure that she really was herself.
"Are you in any pain? Can you speak?"
Arya opened her mouth, then closed it again. She took another breath. "I'm…fine. Who are you?"
"Sit still for a moment," the stranger said. Arya felt him untie the hood, and it slipped from her face. She blinked in the sudden brightness, blinded, although the room was only lit by a single oil lantern.
Once her eyesight had adjusted, Arya looked up, meaning to thank her rescuer. But then she saw his face, and choked. "Durza…?"
Durza didn't reply. He sat down at a nearby desk that was covered in paperwork. For a moment neither of them moved. Then, with a choked scream, Durza shoved all of the papers off his desk and collapsed onto it, burying his face in his crossed arms.
Arya continued to sit and stare at him. It occurred to her that she might be able to escape. Durza was still carrying his sword, after all, and he wasn't really paying attention to her right now. In fact, she might even be able to kill the Shade and rid the Varden of a dangerous enemy. He had killed hundreds of her people, and he had tortured her. Durza was a dangerous, possibly psychotic, unrepentant servant of Galbatorix.
He'd deserve it, Arya thought. He would definitely deserve it. It would be self-defense. I may never get another chance.
She got up and walked, as quiet as only an elf could be, to stand just behind Durza. Arya was quite talented with the sword—she just had to grab the hilt and draw it, and she would be home free.
"Go ahead," Durza said softly, without looking up. "I'd deserve it, you know."
Arya froze. This was her chance—she should do it, but…
Is he crying!?
"Really," Durza said. "Go ahead. I won't stop you."
It doesn't matter, Arya told herself firmly. I don't give a damn what's the matter with him—whatever it is, it doesn't justify what he's done. He's still evil. Arya looked down at him. But he's crying, a small, traitorous voice inside her said.
As a child, Arya's parents had been very proud of their daughter's unwavering compassion for any and all injured animals she found in the woods of Du Weldenvarden. She had brought home deer with lame legs, rabbits with injured paws, nightingales with damaged wings, and demanded that someone help her heal them. This was considered exemplary behavior among the elves.
Arya's parents were less pleased, however, when she also brought homes snakes, rats, and worms. Arya still had a scar on her arm from where a large fishing hawk had slashed her with his talon when she tied a splint to his leg.
She had healed the hawk anyway, and released him back to his home on the lake.
What is wrong with me!? Arya thought, silently berating herself as she reached out a hand and gently laid it on Durza's shoulder.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with you!?" Durza said, shoving her back.
I was just thinking the same thing. "I was just trying to—"
"I'm going to die anyway, what difference does it make whether you kill me or he does?"
"Or who does?" Arya asked, feeling more and more that all reason had gone out of the world.
"Galbatorix."
"Why would he kill you?"
"Because I have to kill him."
Arya was momentarily silenced by complete surprise. "You—what?" she said weakly. "Could you really…?"
"No," Durza said softly.
"Then why would you try to—"
"Because I have to! Because I should have been the one who died—it should have been me, not him, I…I—"
At that moment, Arya knew she had gone completely, irretrievably insane. In front of her eyes, Durza, Galbatorix's general, a terrifying, pitiless monster, burst into tears.
What am I supposed to do? No where in all of Arya's training, both with the Varden and with the elves, was there anything to prepare her for a situation like this. She could just picture herself asking Faolin—he had taught her sword fighting—what to do. Faolin, if my sworn enemy starts sobbing uncontrollably and I have no idea why, should I ask him what's wrong or just kill him?
She knew exactly what the answer would be, too. No elf in their right mind would leave a perversion of nature like a Shade alive.
Faolin was right…I really am an idiot sometimes, Arya thought. She stood there, feeling more awkward than she had ever thought possible, until Durza had calmed down enough to speak. "Um…General…" Arya stopped. Somehow, 'what's wrong' seemed like a very, very inappropriate thing to say. "Why do you want to kill Galbatorix?"
"…for the same reason I wanted to kill you," Durza said in a flat, dead voice.
"But you'll die if you try to fight him."
"If I die, they'll be able to rest in peace."
Arya decided not to ask who 'they' were; there was no need to make this conversation any stranger than it already was. Arya suddenly felt a flare of anger. Weeks of being locked in a cell, all of the pain she had suffered, a lifetime of oppression under Galbatorix's reign, all burst out. "Do you have any idea how selfish that is!? You die—not harming Galbatorix at all—and where does that leave the rest of us? How does that help anyone!? What kind of people would want you to just die for nothing at all!?"
Durza slowly turned to look at her, and Arya resisted the urge to step back. It occurred to her that red eyes were very unnerving when they were staring at you like that.
But Durza said nothing. He was thinking about Carsib. Galbatorix had to pay for killing him. But Durza had no way to harm the King, as much as he hated to admit it.
The elf was saying something. Durza listened to her, but without much interest. "Come with me. You're the King's General, you know his plans, everything about his army, how he works—you would be invaluable to the Varden."
"They would kill me on sight," Durza said flatly.
Arya bit her lip—he was right. There was no way she could convince the Varden that Durza wasn't a dangerous enemy—she wasn't sure she could convince herself. But then she remembered her dream. The Ra'zac had been chasing that boy, the boy with the dragon. They were expert trackers, and there was no way the boy would be able to escape them if they found his trail. If she could stop the Ra'zac long enough for the boy to reach the safety of the Varden…
"Do you know where the Ra'zac were sent?"
"…what?"
"The Ra'zac," Arya said impatiently. "You could take me to them—help me kill them."
"Why would I do that?" Durza said.
"Because…" Arya glanced around, then leaned closer to the Shade. "Because they're chasing a dragon rider," she whispered. "He's our only hope of defeating the King, and we're the only ones who know that he exists…or that he's danger."
"A drag—"
Arya clapped a hand over Durza's mouth. "Shh! The King may not know that the egg hatched," she whispered. "And yes. The egg we stole has hatched for someone…and he has to be protected, at all costs."
Durza's eyes narrowed as he shoved her hand away. If the egg had really hatched…if there really was a dragon rider…
The King's worst fear, Durza thought. He destroyed the dragon riders because they were the only thing that could possibly be a threat to him. If he found out that one had returned…
Durza got to his feet. "…all right. I'll help you—for now."
Arya smiled in a way that would have made Galbatorix himself shudder. "So what's the plan?"
-o-o-o-o-o-
Murtagh sighed for the fifth time in ten minutes. "Subieko…the next chapter isn't about me either. All I've done so far is get locked in prison—what happened to me getting a bigger part!?"
"You will, Murtagh, you will…soon. But now we need to focus on Eragon for a while. He is the main character, after all. Well, one of the main characters anyway. And he still has to start learning magic!"
"I thought he and Brom were going to Gil'ead."
"They are," Subieko said. "But do you honestly think that's going to stop Brom from teaching Eragon?"
"…point taken."
At that moment, the door burst open. "Subieko, guess what!?" Durza said. "Me and Arya have formed our own side, and we have signs!"
"That's nice," Subieko said. "What's it called?"
"The random guys," Arya said, following Durza in. "And we think you should join, Murtagh. You aren't a good guy or a bad guy, and none of them appreciate you anyway."
"I don't want to join anyone," Murtagh said, glaring at them. "I trust no one but myself!"
"And your dr—" Durza started to say.
"Shhh!" Subieko said. "No spoilers!"
"Oh, right," Durza said. "Anyway, Murtagh, you've got to join! Please?"
Murtagh continued to glare.
"But we have chocolate!" Durza said.
"Long live the random guys!" Murtagh said, springing to his feet and grabbing a sign. The three marched out of the room, waving the random guy flag.
"While you're up, would you guys get Eragon, Brom, and Saphira for me?" Subieko called after them.
"Sure thing!" Durza yelled back. "Hey, Arya, Murtagh? We should get a random guy theme song."
Subieko shook her head as their bickering faded into the distance. "I can't wait to see what Galby and Eragon are going to do when they see that…"