Chapter 21:A Royally F***ed Day.

They stared at each other a while, crimson eyes on crimson eyes. Confusion facing… nothing in particular, just a blank expression, not that squirrels really had expressions. The eyes held the same madness and rage and anger that Eragon's did but… there was just nothing there, nothing behind those emotions.

It took him a moment, a long moment in fact, to consider, to comprehend, just what he was witnessing. The squirrel tilted its head while he tried to think, tried to make sense of… whatever the fuck this was, whatever the fuck was going on.

But ultimately Eragon responded the only way that he could, considering the situation.. Violence, rage, anger and hatred.

He grabbed it, roaring in pure anger, spit flying from his open, exulting mouth… and his hands were shaking, they were shaking so bad. He smashed the little critter against the closest tree trunk, caught between the flat of Eragon's palm and the hard wood of an ancient pine tree, the squirrels body caved.

It cracked beneath his palm, the bones breaking, then the body ruptured from the pressure, a spurt of blood splashing into his face. It was dead, quite obviously, its head and entire upper body far flatter than they should be The little bloody, popped body dropped down when he pulled his hand back, leaving a bloody mark on the trunk where it had burst.

His hands were still shaking, he was afraid, scared… so very scared.

Screams tore through him and he dropped to his knees and pummeled the tiny pile of fresh, now trying on an exposed root of the tree. It became flatter, and bloodier as he punched, its eyes burst, its bones, shattered and fragmented, started piercing through the skin, one pulling the fresh apart so that the organs, all burst inside, were allowed to be forced out by the pressure of his blows.

He pounded the wood while his knuckles split and bled, while the wood was soaked in blood, both his and the squirrels, the wood itself was crushed under his strength, breaking apart from the sheer force in impact, then being smashed into a paste of blood, bits of a flesh, and the aforementioned wood chippings.

There was no stopping, not when his right hand broke from the repeated force, not when his arms cried in agony from the ache, not when the tears blurred his vision so much he could hardly even see. Emotions roiled in him like a wild animal, a wounded animal, howling in pain and fear.

Eragon was, in that moment, truly scared.

And all the while, he could hear it, whispering into his ear, gentle as a lover 'You will always be ours…' while he bled 'You will never escape us…' while he screamed 'You cannot run from us…' a voice spoke to him, oh so gentle, oh so kindly… soothing him.

'Eragon!'

Her voice pierced it all, he heard his beautiful, his wonderful, his beloved even if she was a bit of a pain sometimes, dragon's voice resounding through his head far louder than the other voice, or voices, he wasn't sure, but they were suppressed, the dragon's voice drowning it out in sheer volume.

'Eragon, are you okay?'

Eragon wanted to cling to her, to wrap himself in her mind, to never leave. He wanted to hold her, to be held, but he held back. The squirrels whose mind he had touched lay dead before him, and for a split second, just a moment an image flashed into his head, imagination or… something else, he didn't know.

The image that came to him in that moment, an image of his dragon, of his perfect sapphire blue beauty, staring at him with crimson red eyes.

He shoved her, harshly, harsher than he intended, harder than he ever had before. The mental shove more akin to a physical ram, he felt her anger at this treatment, it was sudden, rising like a snake ready to strike. But then he blocked her, armouring his mind, even against her. Walls of thick brick rose around his thoughts, confining him to the confines of his own mind, and keeping everything inside of him locked in there too.

Looking down at his hands he found it still shaking, his vision still blurry, but more to the point, he could still feel them.

They had their claws in him now, and they were in no way inclined to let go.

Eragon struggled to get to his feet, stumbling and nearly falling, but managing to steady himself against a nearby tree. Lucky that, but them being in the forest did mean there were plenty of trees about. Pushing himself forward Eragon walked in what he hoped was the direction of Oromis's hut.

All the while laughter echoed loudly through the halls of his mind, getting ever louder.

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He heard the dragons first, the sound of pounding wings pumping the air, though in truth he had long known of their arrival. Glaedr had informed him of Saphira fury's at Eragon's treatment of her, and how she had simply abandoned his lesson to find him and probably maul him, a little bit at least.

Glaedr had been following the sapphire blue dragon, as best he could anyway. She was fleeter of wing than he and managed to gain a small lead, but it was not much.

He himself strode from the hut, stern faced with a not at all pleased demeanour.

They were in training, now was not the time for personal spats. Saphira landed heavily and roared into the trees, a rustle hinted at Eragon's arrival.

"Saphira" Oromis said sternly, stepping in front of her "You should be focused on your education."

'No!' resolute even before his stern countenance 'I will not be treated like that by my own Rider, if he wished to continue to claim such a thing then he will apologise immediately.'

Laughter reached them, and the both of them stiffened, Saphira out of anger, and Oromis out of… confusion. This was not like Eragon, he would certainly never laugh at the implication that he was not fit to be Saphira's Rider, perhaps as a joke, but not when said so seriously. The laughter was muffled, though, by Glaedr's heavy landing, the great golden dragon was breathing heavily too.

It had been a rather frantic fly.

"How cruel" Eragon said as he emerged into sight through the treeline, there was a smile on his face. But… it was strange. Half a grimace and half a smirk. And he was shaking, hands twitching uncontrollably "What have I done to earn such harsh treatment, dear?" his voice was shaky too.

But his hands had more of Oromis's attention, he was bleeding from his knuckles and there was blood on his palms as well. A frown touched the elderly elf's face.

'What have you done?' there was a surprising amount of spite in Saphira's tone too, Oromis wondered briefly is she even realised she was projecting her thoughts to them all, instead of speaking on a more private channel. Not that that would prevent him from listening in 'What you just did then, you shoved me, almost knocked me out of the sky.'

"And that's enough to earn your ire… so intensely" there was an odd calmness to go along with Eragon's thoroughly… uncalm appearance. He watched twitchy as he stepped forwards, a jerkiness to his movements. He licked his lips while a muscle in his cheek twitch, almost making him bite his own tongue.

'You…' Saphira glared at him.

"Enough" Oromis spoke sternly, stepping forwards "That is quite enough, from the both of you. Any personal issues you have you shall resolve in your own time, not during lesson. Return to your studies… Now!" there was a hint of anger in his voice, more than he ever usually showed.

But Saphira was too angry to care, and Eragon just didn't.

"I don't like elves" Eragon said conversationally, running a hand through his hair, leaving specks of blood, little red flecks in his brown locks "You think you're so wise, so knowledgeable, and you might not even be wrong, but I hate it. You're the wisest, powerfulest, most bestest peoples in the whole world, must assuredly, right?" he laughed a little "Maybe, but you also know that fact, so everything… is beneath you. You can't understand the suffering of the mortals, of the non-magicals. The world could be on fire, and all you'd do is debate on how it could've been avoided, and how the problem should now be handled, while others rushed past with buckets."

Oromis frowned again, he had switched his attention so quickly from Saphria and her quite obvious anger, moving onto a rather prominent feature of Oromis, his elven nature. Eragon had some issues with focusing, but not that bad.

'Shut up!' Saphira roared 'You think I care about your petty complaints about some stupid pointy eared fucks!' she moved past Oromis in a swift movement, and in one graceful yet terrifying powerful movement pinned Eragon beneath her clawed hand, slamming him into the dirt with the intent of causing harm 'You dare to treat me in this manner, Eragon! I may be your dragon, but I am still a dragon, not you're fucking pet that you can kick in anger, and then stroke it five minutes laters and all is forgiven. You will apologise and will mean it, or you will pay in blood!'

Eragon coughed up blood, onto Saphira's scales, and considered her through crimson eyes "Why are you so angry, Saphira? What did I do?" Eragon seemed to consider it, leaning back, as best he could while pinned, to consider it. Then his face lit up, and he smiled "That's why?! Hahaha, oh, that's a good one."

There was a shudder that ran through Eragon's whole body, like a seizure, and when Eragon looked back at his dragon, there was… something else in his gaze, something horrific "You think you have any right to an apology from me? When I never got one from you?"

Saphira pulled her head back, not letting him up, but her confusion was evident.

Oromis and Glaedr glanced to one another, they would let this proceed, for now, but would get involved if either used any more violence, any more serious violence that is.

"Do you forget? My uncle, his name was Garrow, he was the closest thing to a father I ever had, and he's dead… all because of you" Saphira quivered "Because I found your egg in the spine, because you hatched from it, because you even exist, I lost half of all the family I had left, and I may as well have lost the other half" his voice wasn't angry Oromis noted, it was soft, gentle, and chilling, it chilled him right down to his bones "I lost my life, my nice happy life in Carvahall, few responsibilities, fewer worries. And you… think you deserve an apology? Why? Because I pushed you? Or… is it because of that? What's lurking in my mind all the time? Hmm? Is that is?"

Eragon smirked darkly as Saphira stood above him, shaking, confused, unsure of how to answer, unsure of what to do.

"Do you want an answer, Saphira? Yes… I do… and I always have… hated you for that" in that moment Glaedr moved, suddenly, and surprisingly swiftly for his bulk. He shoved Saphira with immense force, pushing her aside, and Oromis knew precisely why.

Those eyes, those horrible, horrible eyes… those eyes didn't belong to Eragon anymore.

The wind was dyed red by the power of Eragon's spell as he shoved Glaedr off of him, sending the massive dragon tumbling away. He only just managed to recover before the cliff's edge, and the tumble had caused him no few pains.

Saphira stared at the other dragon, the far bigger, more powerful, and far less damageable dragon 'That…' Oromis wondered again if she even realised she was projecting her thoughts 'You were going to use that on me.'

"Saphira step back!" he said, his voice firm, as he strode forward. A spell slipped off of his lips and suddenly Naegling was in his hand. He held it like a walking stick, his hand on the gemmed pommel, the other hanging loosely by his side, twitching occasionally as he surveyed his student "I do not condone the use of magic in such a way Eragon, especially not against my own."

Eragon chuckled "He got in the way… didn't mean to hit him… I…" the young man paused "I meant to hit…" he looked at Saphira in confusion, and Saphira looked back, just as confused, but also angry, and more than a little hurt "Master" Eragon murmured quietly, turning his gaze back "I don't think…" he gulped "I don't think I'm very well."

"No" Oromis agreed "Tell me Eragon" he said, keeping his hand carefully on Naegling's gem while Glaedr crawled back, ready to grant his power to Oromis at a moment's notice "What happened?"

"What happened?" Eragon seemed to frown "I was meditating" he mused, swaying where he stood. He wasn't all there Oromis suspected, whether or not something else was there in his place was what he was trying to ascertain. It had been, for a moment, but now… now he was uncertain again "Yeah, I was meditating, and then there was a squirrel" he laughed "Funny, all this… cause a squirrel."

Oromis smiled softly "What happened?" he repeated gently, taking another step forward, against the better judgement of his dragon who was watching with sharp eyes.

"I… didn't I say?" Eragon asked "I was meditating, in the forest…" his eyes wandered to the forest that he was still half submerged in "I don't like forests" he said decisively, but thoroughly off topic "I mean, why's it always gotta be a forest? Why not a desert? An icy tundra? Grassy plains? A rocky plateau? But no!" there was heat in his voice now, anger "It's always, always, always a FUCKING FOREST!"

There was a moment, Eragon stood there, breathing heavily after his shout, Oromis stood watching, waiting.

"Wha…" Eragon frowned "You…" he tilted his head "I…" Oromis frowned, what was going on in Eragon's head right now? It was a good question, and a worrying one as well. Then Eragon chuckled "Right… right!" Eragon smiled at Oromis and spoke, as if sharing a revelation "I should just get rid of it, right?" as he spoke Oromis noticed smoke beginning to pour off of the trees around the Rider "I hate this forest… so… we should just burn it?" a cruel smile worked its way onto his face.

Or was it a Shade now?

"Eragon!" Oromis said sternly

Eragon just laughed, as the forest around him burst into flames, twenty meters in all directions, even the grass beneath Oromis feet was set ablaze, though thankfully the flames died quickly as the fuel was consumed quickly. But the trees kept burning.

Whether or not it was Eragon he was even speaking to… was a good question? Whether or not it could ever not be Eragon, in some way, was another one.

It was a question Oromis had pondered, thinking of Eragon's condition. Where did one begin and the other end, and just then, as they spoke… Eragon spoke with 'I', he was him, and there was one. Legion was 'we', there were many, with one voice. And during that conversation, he had not referred to himself as we until near the end.

Was that Eragon 'shifting' into Legion, was that him influenced by Legion, or was that him, angry enough to give in to the monster in his head?

"Eragon" he said again, when the Rider's laughter softened into chuckles.

"Yes, ebrithil?" Eragon asked, looking up at him with a small smile. But it was his eyes that struck Oromis the most, those eyes were eyes unlike he had ever seen before on the Rider's face. It reminded him of that time in the not so distant past, when he had reached out to aid Eragon's mind in the aftermath of Durza's death.

Those eyes… were pleading, begging for help, help Eragon didn't know how to ask for.

Oromis took another step forward, he felt Glaedr's muscles tense and could offer no words to reassure the dragon. This was stupid, there were safer alternatives to his current plan, but it felt the most appropriate. He walked slowly towards the Rider, slowly and carefully, ready for any action, until he was close enough to touch him.

He placed his hand on the Rider's shoulder, and felt Eragon's entire body shudder at the touch.

"Eragon" he said gently, causing the boy to lift his head and look into the elf's eyes "Let me help you."

His mind gently touched against Eragon's and he felt the chaos of Eragon's mind for a moment, screams echoed through his mind, a thousand words spoke all at once, culminating in a single voice. A dragon's roar pierced the cacophony of voices, and for a moment Oromis felt something he had sensed back then too, a presence that felt… almost like a dragon.

Then it disappeared. It merged into Eragon's mind, becoming one with the Rider's mind while Oromis, with Glaedr's support, reinforced Eragon's… own sense of self he supposed.

It wasn't correct to say any battle occurred, unlike the last time when they had decidedly had to reinforce Eragon's will through force. This time it was a strange mix of… calming, he supposed, the Rider, guarding him from the voices screaming at him, and helping him to rebuild the barriers he had had around himself, that guarded him from the spirits.

They were pushed deep into the depths of Eragon's mind, surrounded by pitch black walls. He wondered what would occur were they to push them out of Eragon's mind, but he did not dare disrupt the status quo, this was how it had been, and that was what he served to restore, the prior order.

He would later find much amusement in the fact that his actions in Eragon's mind reflected on his actions more generally, he sought to restore the past not let anything progress into a more uncertain future, but to regain the stability of the past.

Eragon had not lost control for more than a few moments, but he had come very close to losing it entirely. When Oromis opened his eyes, gently retracting from his students mind, he felt there was sweat on his brow, and wondered how long he had been stood there. Glaedr showed him, sending him an idea of how far the sun had moved. It had been almost an hour.

The young Rider was on his knees, Oromis considered joining him, but resisted. He was tired, but not yet that tired. He felt Glaedr move closer to him, protectively, while still keeping an eye on the younger Rider.

Eragon laughed.

Oromis considered him, wondering if that was an ironic laugh, laughing at his own weakness, laughing at the joy of victory, or just laughing because he didn't know what else to say "Eragon" he said, about to step forwards, but decided against it when he realised how weak his own legs were.

Eragon laughed a little more, slapping his hand over his eyes, even as tears spilled down his cheeks.

Saphira moved closer, and it was then that Eragon finally responded snapping at her and telling her firmly "Stay away!" Saphira froze in place, unsure of what to do. Her Rider stood before her, crying, scared, alone, looking terrified, and she could do nothing, for he did not desire her comfort, indeed, he was afraid of it. He forced himself to his knees "Stay away from me" he said, and turned and walked away.

It was… rather undramatic, Oromis mused. He just sort of left, just wandered off, not that much different from going for a summer stroll, save for his shivering shoulders, shaking hands, and barely held back sobs. And the fear he radiated, so unlike the confident, cocky swagger the boy usually had.

Glaedr gently touched his mind, asking whether they should pursue. Oromis considered it, then let his own mind gently touch Eragon's, Eragon wasn't happy, but allowed it. Knowing, perhaps, that Oromis needed proof that he was not a danger to the elven nation anymore.

And he wasn't.

The elf shook his head to the dragon, and they both nodded, both exhausted.

But there was still one more thing Oromis needed… no, felt he must… or should at least, do. He walked, slowly and carefully, resting a hand on Glaedr for some support, over to Saphira.

"Saphira" he said gently, and stirring her from her stupor, stood watching Eragon who was long gone from sight. She made to speak, made to do something, flee maybe, cry, he wasn't sure, but he quelled all of them with a single word "Saphira" it was still gentle, still kind, but louder, more forceful, and she stopped and listened "I…" Oromis took a breath "I cannot claim to know the ins and outs of your Rider's mind. But I will tell you this, he does not tell you to stay away for his own sake" Saphira made to speak again, and he cut her off this time "He does it for yours, and you know this."

'That isn't…'

"Given what just occurred" he continued "Do you think he can trust himself with you? Do you think he can condone any form of closeness to you."

'What he said…'

"What he said" he was quite intent on not letting her speak, she would work herself into rage, hate even, and that was never good "Was said in a moment of anger, of spite and malice. True perhaps, but…" he sighed and leave more heavily against his dragon "We all keep such things inside, but we keep them inside because of love. Because we do not wish to harm those whom we hold those feelings for."

Saphira shook her head 'That doesn't…'

'He will return' Glaedr cut over her this time, his voice louder and more forceful than Oromis's which was weakened from his exertion 'In time, he will return. Here… to you. You know this.'

Saphira considered him a moment, then finally nodded 'I… yes, ebrithil.'

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It was hours later, Oromis was sat outside his hut, Glaedr and Saphira had gone to continue their lesson. She needed a distraction after what occurred earlier, and Glaedr was putting her through some rather intense flight training that was doing its job adequately.

He considered the words on the scroll, wondering how to continue. When he wrote his quill touched the page before he had fully formulated the thought and the words just began flowing. He had a vague idea of where they were going, of course, but not an exact, the words used and how, exactly things were defined was very just… defined, he supposed, in the moment.

Right now though, he was having some trouble finding the next words. In truth...

A disturbance on the edge of the clearing, a spot of moment in his peripheral vision, caught his attention and he paused, glancing over.

Arya-drottningu and the dwarf Orik of clan Durgrimst, Eragon's adopted brother if Oromis had his information correct, approached his hut and where he sat, on the cliff.

Oromis raised his mug and took a sip of water, they had likely come to witness Eragon's training, sadly they would not be able to, today at least.

"Oromis-elda" Arya spoke bowing. She looked around, then raised a delicate brow in his direction.

Oromis smiled "Arya-drottningu" he inclined his head, then looked to Orik "Orik-vodhr, it is a pleasure to see the two of you today."

Orik also bowed "I feel the same Rider" he then looked around himself, checking to make sure hadn't just overlooked Eragon somewhere "Where is Eragon? We came to witness the education of the Rider, if that is allowable."

Ah, so that was the cause for their presence, it made sense he supposed, but even so "That which I share with Eragon is for him alone. The secrets of the Rider's are his."

Orik nodded "I understand" he said politely, very politely in fact "However, the times we live in are not so certain as the time of the Dragon Riders. The stone that once was solid and firm is now unsteady, and unstable. So much depends on Eragon, we dwarves have a right to verify that his training proceeds as promised. Do you feel our request is unreasonable?"

Oromis smiled, that was a good answer "No, it would be a quite reasonable request, one I would be happy to accommodate."

"Then…"

"It would be" Oromis spoke over the dwarf, stopping him before he could get started "If my wayward student was being educated at this time. Unfortunately he is currently… wayward."

Both of them were frowning, and Oromis was smiling almost amusedly at their reactions. It was apt after all, and understandable.

"Is indulging him a good idea?" Arya asked, in the ancient language. Oromis found that amusing too, perhaps she was trying to hide her… rather obvious displeasure at the Rider's actions from the dwarf, perhaps she merely wished the truth, or maybe she assumed he would not reveal as much if Orik could understand.

The dwarf for his part merely scowled, he didn't comment.

"We have limited time here" Arya continued "and him wasting it is not… appropriate behaviour."

"No, it is not" Oromis agreed, joining her in the ancient language where before he had spoken the more common, human tongue for Orik's sake "However... " he paused, considering how to word it while obviously not revealing the truth of what occurred "If I forced him to come back, tried to educate him via compulsion and pressure, then he would resist all the harder, for such is his nature. If pushed he will push back, if corralled he will rebel all the harder."

Arya was frowning, thinking intently perhaps, Oromis smiled again, and spoke to reassure her.

"He will not abandon his education, nor unduly harm it" he told her "He knows that he requires this knowledge for his own goals, after all."

She did not stop frowning, but nodded.

"I would be happy to accommodate you another day, Orik-vodhr" he said to the dwarf switching back to the human tongue "Preferably when my student is more… presentable. Or indeed, at all present" he said smiling.

Orik nodded, though there was a frown on his face "I would be honoured, thank you Argetlam."

Oromis nodded "Then we shall set a date where it is appropriate, or I shall find some means to contact you. Would you also like to be included, Arya-drottningu?"

Arya nodded distractedly.

"Arya" he said, this time in the ancient language, and again so that Orik could not understand "It would likely not be advisable to visit him this night" he said, as… well as lacking in implication as he could, and for a statement so full of implication, not all innocent, but not entirely guilty either, it was difficult. And he did a fine job.

"That…" Arya considered him, puzzling out the implications of his statement "I… understand, Oromis-elda."

Oromis smiled again, spoke with Orik briefly and agreed to have an elf inform him and Arya as to an appropriate time, then returned to his scroll, quietly and gently dismissing them.

In truth… he hadn't written a single word all day.

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He was alone at last… alone, and lonely.

He had spent some time curled up under the table in the dining room, it was odd, childish even, but it felt safe there, safer still when he wrapped himself in blankets. But he had gotten past that phase, and now he was trying to focus on other things, such as his weaponry.

In particular one bone handled hunting knife.

He had tried to bend it back into shape by hand, but there was a crease where the blade had been bent more than ninety degrees. It wasn't possible for him to fix, he would need to ask someone to help him fix it, Rhunon maybe, but… would it even be the same blade after that? Did he care enough about some pointless old memory to ask, to beg, for help from someone else.

It had been given to him by Garrow, had it been Garrow's originally? He wasn't sure, he didn't know the history of this object, just that it had been given to him. That it was one of the few remnant of his former life left. Like the bow Garrow had made for him.

He stood and checked through his stuff, searching for that, one of his most precious belongings, briefly he worried he had left it at the Varden, but eventually he found it, in its tattered case amongst some of Saphira's tack.

This was another piece of his past, another piece he refused to let go. And it was useless, he couldn't use it swiftly, he couldn't fire off shots as quickly as he would like. The bow the dwarves had given him was far more effective at that, and he could likely make it a bit better with wards and magic, improving its strength and making it even easier to use, while maintaining it.

But this… Eragon sighed, it was just a piece of wood right now, worthless… so he snapped it.

It wasn't dramatic, or difficult, nothing happened in particular, the wood just snapped cleanly in two in his hands, rendering the already deemed useless bow genuinely useless.

But Eragon felt like he had been punched in the gut, like he had punched himself in the gut. Why had he just broken it? Garrow had given it to him? It was important, wasn't it?

He threw the bits of wood away, into a pile of clothes of other… general stuff. He was angry again, and had to take a deep breath to calm himself. That was stupid, that was really fucking stupid. Why did he do that? What purpose did it serve? It didn't serve any, it was just dumb, dumb and pointless and wasteful and dumb.

He returned to his bed, and picked up the hunting knife again.

A part of him wanted to render this useless as well, bend it until it was truly broken, bury it, throw it away, obliterate it even. He ignored that and just considered it calmly, mournfully.

A sigh escaped his lips "Doors not locked" he called out "Let yourself in."

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She froze at the door, where she had paused, as his words reached her.

Perhaps it had been a mistake even coming here? No, she decided after but a moment consideration, it was not a mistake. These was a reason for her to be here, it was a thought out and justified reason, quite understandable, almost beyond scrutiny in truth. Almost… was not quite enough, however.

Islanzadi let herself following his… permission.

Her long tresses of black hair flowed behind her as she swept into his rooms. She wore a simple set of clothes, far more plain than her normally royal affair. An apple red tunic, edged in golden thread. Dark leggings that clung to her but also stretched very comfortably indeed covered her lower body. And a hooded cloak of russet brown, that she had used to disguise her appearance as she approached and entered the Rider's quarters.

It would not do for a Queen to be, even considered to be, frolicking with a Rider after all. Her discussions with the man should remain official, but this… this was personal.

Distaste was felt, but now shown, at the state the rooms were in. These had once belonged to the famed Rider's of old, they belonged, even now, to those Riders, to the head of the Order. It was Oromis's in truth, but he had given up his claim to the mantle for this… boy, and the boy showed his immaturity with this… sacrilege of an almost sacred place.

She refrained from commenting, it was not her place, but more importantly it was not the issue she had come here to broach.

Eragon considered her from where he was sat, on his bed, with a dagger held carefully in both his hands.

"Your senses are sharp, Shur'tugal" she said with a smile she didn't feel.

The Rider didn't comment merely cocked a brow at her "Need something?" he asked when she didn't respond to his silent question.

She offered him another smile, this one more forced. She knew now that he was not simply ignorant, but rude. He knew the greeting, yet did not speak it, such arrogance. Where he anyone else she would shame him, but he was not anyone else.

Islanzadi looked around the room, she had not been here… at all in truth. She had not once visited this private chamber. She had been in the dining hall, but not here, and in truth it surprised her, how simply this room was decorated.

Perhaps it was different back in the glory days of the Rider's, perhaps Vrael was a particularly frugal member of his caste, but even so, the overall simplicity of the room could not be denied.

There was a bed, there was a depression with a mattress large enough for a reasonably large dragon, certainly big enough for one far larger than this Rider's. And there was an upside-down-teardrop shaped hole in the wall where, she assumed a dragon might enter as the staircase was too narrow, she assumed as she had seen a dragon enter in through said doorway several times.

And that was it.

There was nothing particularly fancy about the room, all the pretence was saved for the room the public might see, she supposed, and even then there was little of it. The art work in the centre of the complex, the dining room that was still rather sparse but was pleasant enough for company.

She heard Eragon sigh at her ignoring him, and decided she had done so enough, turning to face him, but pausing to consider another factor that she had not thought of before "Your dragon… she is…"

"Not present" Eragon said before she could continue. Islanzadi did not like his tone, it was… impatient, aggressive maybe, and annoyed, at her "What do you want?" he repeated far more insistently.

Once again she had to resist the urge to scowl, and instead placed and immaculate smile on her face "Apologies if I have interrupted you Rider" she said, offering him a small curtsy, and not caring in the slightest if she had interrupted anything "I merely had an inquiry that I hoped you would accommodate?" she would be polite, even if he would not. She was the Queen of the Elves, and she was better than him, of that much she needed no reassurance.

Eragon rolled his eyes at her "Then ask."

She considered a moment the best way to phrase it, the correct way to edge around the question to get the answer she wanted, and in the end decided just to ask it "What is your relationship with my daughter?"

The Rider stared at her a moment, before cracking an amused grin "Figures" he murmured to himself, but spoke louder, and clearly directed at her "And why, pray tell, should you care, oh sweet and beautiful Elven Queen?"

If he were not so mocking, she might find such a statement… cute? Yes, that was right word, cute. But it was mocking, and therefore Islanzadi found it intensely annoying "Because she is my daughter" she said, more tersely than she wished. A moment was taken to sooth her voice before she continued "Not only does she bear the weight of potentially being the future monarch of our race, she is also my own flesh and blood, and I care for her deeply."

"And you don't think she's old enough to handle such matters herself?" Eragon asked her, poking the point of his dagger into his finger and twirling it.

She considered carefully her next words, not wanting to seem to protective, nor too cold, a healthy mix of both was most appropriate "Her affairs have a direct impact on our nation, whether she wishes them too or not and…" she paused for dramatic effect "In truth, I am concerned for her, perhaps that is why I ask. Out of a selfish, motherly worry."

"Then you should stop" Eragon told her callously. She didn't respond, so he sighed again "I have no relationship with Arya beyond a friendly one, if even that. Satisfied? Then go."

She wasn't "No, I'm not satisfied" and expressed it too, in a statement which honestly surprised her, more so than it did Eragon "You cannot truly expect me to accept that statement" she continued, trying to justify her outburst, if it could even be called that. It was not something she would've chosen to say, that much was certain "I have seen the way you look at her, Shur'tugal, I know desire when I see it. And regardless of how she feels she has not rebutted your advances…"

"Who's to say she hasn't?" Eragon asked her, throwing and catching the knife now.

"Then she has not done so harshly enough" Islanzadi said coldly "You still pursue her. You still see an opportunity, the potential for… something. If you cannot be swayed by words, then she should've simply cut you from her life."

"Which means she doesn't want to" Eragon stated "Which may mean she too sees the potential for something, or perhaps she's simply being friendly, or maybe she's toying with me… hmm" he stopped, considering his own statement a minute "Which means… very little for the elven people, and indeed for you. Which brings us back to the issue of, why you think this is at all your business?"

There was a bit of anger in his words now, and that infuriated her. She held back her temper, refrained from anger or even harsh words as best she could. And he just displayed them openly, without a care for the consequences.

"It is my business, Shur'tugal" she said sternly "Now tell me what you relationship with my daughter is!"

The dagger, that had been in Eragon's hand the entire time, stabbed deep into the wall to her left with a loud 'thump'. It made her jump, it shocked her, it might have even scared her a little.

"I'm not in the best of moods, Queeny, so kindly sod off back to your castle, and leave me in peace!" the spite in Eragon's words woke her from her stunned reverie, and woke the rage that had been building inside her this entire time.

"You dare!" she hissed, letting her rage be known. Her eyebrows formed a V, her eyes glistened with power, and her entire face took on a more beastial quality, becoming an expression filled with anger as opposed to her prior serenity "I am the Queen of the Elves, boy, and you will treat me with respect, especially when you are stood in the heart of my kingdom!"

Eragon sneered at her "You act like any of that means a single fucking thing to me" he switched back to his native tongue, purely, she suspected, so that he could curse.

She was angry enough to join him "You think you can act like this? You are a Rider, and while a poor excuse for one you might be, but you cannot shame the Order that existed long before you were even born."

"Can't I? They had plenty of shame" Eragon stated "You just never saw it. You were blind, ignorant, and foolish" he laughed "You were a lot like the Rider's actually."

She had closed the distance between them, and slapped him, before she even truly realised what she was doing. A moment of shame passed through her, this was not the manner in which a queen should act. But her anger overrode that "You dare speak ill of the Riders, you who are but a shamefully pathetic remnant of their greatness, you think this world as we know it would exist without their influence? You think would sit before me without their influence?"

Eragon's eyes flashed, a dark rage slumbering there woke with a roar, her head slammed against the wood of the wall, making her head spin for but a moment. He had pushed her against it, as she had closed the distance in but a second, he had pushed her all the way back in less, and with far more force.

Their eyes met, and Islanzadi felt… scared, but she felt angry, too angry to care "You are pathetic, a pathetic Rider, not even that, you're a monster, a monster wearing the guise of a Rider, you're just a freak, and you have no place in this world beyond the death of your Black King."

Eragon stared at her, for a very long moment, and Islanzadi found her shivering under the… madness in those eyes. But there was something else there was as well, something she had seen in his face before, though it had not been directed towards her.

Eragon kissed her.

For a minute, a whole minute in fact, she was stunned, shocked too motionlessness by his action, just stood there, pinned to the wall, his lips upon hers.

Then with a start her mind caught up with even and she struggled wildly, trying to shove him, hit him, scratching at his neck and cheeks. But he would not budge. She kneed him in the stomach and he did not move. She dragged her nails along his neck hard enough to draw blood and he didn't flinch. She even resorted to pulling his hair, to no effect.

She gave up, her hand slid through his hair, and came to rest on the back of his neck, where it remained even as she felt him pull back, ever so slightly.

Their eyes met "Convinced yet?" his crude words stung her ears, and rankled her thoughts. The smirk on his face made her want to bite it off. She could shove him away now, gouge out his eyes, cut off his balls and sever his every limb.

But all she did... was lick her abused lips.

Lot of days these past few... err, days. This is in reference to the title, for those of you who, like me, barely pay attention to the titles in the fics they read. Know that a lot of effort went into thinking up these titles, at least a couple of seconds, and that you, like everyone else, just ignore that hard work. Know that...

You don't have to act on that at all, but know it.

So anyway, stuff happened, enjoy or don't, you can complain if you want, I'll understand, what I've done may or may not be popular. In my defense this... concept was finalised years ago when I was young and foolish and felt that the protagonist should get all the hot chicks, I'm older and hopefully not so dumb, but this is a part of the story as it is presently in my head and I'm not getting rid of it. I use it later for... things.

...

'kay good.

As an FYI for those who bother to read these, I have another chapter, 22, written and done to my present satisfaction, so as long as I don't decide its absolute garbage in the next week you'll be getting another next week. I have the start of 23 as well, well 2000 words of it, so that's maybe 2/5's done, depending on when I decide I want that chapter to end. 5000 is my minimum for a chapter, not always stuck to it but I generally try to. So yeah, information you may want followed by useless tosh, enjoy.

Toodles.