Chapter 24-Lineage

Same story, different penname!

Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon, Eldest or any of Paolini's characters-I only own Lenora and Eridor. Enjoy!

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Eridor roared and made an advance toward Eragon for this threat to his rider, but Saphira positioned herself between the young dragon and the Shur'tugals. Though adrenaline still pumped through his veins from the fight, he knew Saphira could defeat him if pitted against her. Though she had forgotten her sword on the ground when she had checked Murtagh, Lenora would have already made to disarm Eragon with a simple movement were his cousin not right behind her with his blood-stained hammer. Roran had dismounted and approached when Lenora had bowled over Eragon, and he now believed Lenora didn't know he was behind her until he decided to announce himself.

"I suggest you don't try anything foolish," he threatened. Though her sword was not within immediate reach, they all had seen her dubious tricks. Lenora didn't give Roran the satisfaction of flinching or even answering the warning. Instead, she stared Eragon in the eyes and challenged his suspicious glare. The point of the dagger which she felt through the tunic fabric didn't frighten her. She had been stabbed before, and a wound to the stomach was not lethal unless she bled out, but a blow to the head from that bloody hammer was something she didn't wish to experience. Should she willingly ram the dagger through herself, Lenora doubted even she would be able to ignore such an onset of pain to deflect the blow of the hammer, especially after the previous fight and emotional stress. To break the rider's grip on the weapon would be precarious as his strength still bested her own and she could easily end up with a crushed skull before she had wrestled the blade from Eragon. Crazy half-breed, Lenora again thought. She was trapped.

Yet she had just watched Eragon come within an inch of murdering her only friend. Though he had been defending her, he could have easily muttered a single word in that magical tongue to put his brother to sleep. Anger was all she felt in that moment. Anger toward Eragon for doing something so shallow when all Murtagh ever wanted was his brother's well-being. To protect him from the evil that he had experienced and never wanted Eragon to see. To love him as a little brother and make him understand what had changed him so dramatically that he no longer represented that young man Eragon had grown so connected to before the Battle at Farthen Dûr.

"I very much doubt you want the answer to that question. After nearly slicing Murtagh in half, who knows what you'll do to me," she said. "The fate of the Empire lies on your shoulders. Should you decide to take my life, the Varden doesn't stand a chance against Galbatorix."

"That was accidental. When Murtagh noticed you approaching, he lost concentration and didn't raise his blade to meet my own. The attack went through, something that surprised myself as much as him," Eragon said stonily.

"Then heal him!" she replied angrily.

"I don't see why his well-being is any concern of yours. Truth be told, I'm not sure I know anything about you. Why don't you start talking before yours too is in peril," Eragon said, pressing the blade until it pricked her skin. A few short weeks prior to that moment would have Lenora welcoming the threat, but now she had a purpose in life. She was a rider, and she was connected to the handsome emerald dragon who was now so desperately trying to figure out a way to rescue her. She wouldn't give up her life so easily now and refused to subject Eridor to that pain. Now, those last few secrets were what held their lives in balance.

"You really want to know who I am? Just remember rider, you were the one who asked." Then, speaking steadily in the ancient language, she said the incriminating words. "I am Lenora, daughter of Galbatorix and princess of Alagaësia."

Eragon's face revealed the rise in his temper. He had been teaching the daughter of a tyrant the ways of the Varden and Oromis. Though he didn't increase the pressure on the dagger, neither did he remove the weapon. It appeared Roran was in a similar state as she was not yet decapitated. As much as Lenora wished to retrieve her blade, any action of the sort would certainly put her more at odds with her companions. "You told me you were the daughter of the Cavalry Captain."

"I lied," she said, "because I knew you'd react like this."

"How much of it was lies?" he demanded. "Evidently, you know Murtagh too. I've never seen a fight such as that; you have fought with him many times before."

"Aye, your brother is not only a good friend of mine, but he was the one who helped teach me what I know today in hopes that I would someday escape. Now you've nearly killed him," she stated darkly. "From what I told you before, that is all that was false."

"Then tell me," he said, voice lowering. "Why has he tried to kill you?"

"Because I am a weapon. Galbatorix is who taught me to fight so mercilessly, yet also the one who rejected me as useless once I was crippled. As a rider, I could now sway the sides of the war with whatever side I decide to choose," she explained. "The King has sent Murtagh out to kill me for he knows I would never choose to serve the Empire. I wish nothing more than to pierce Galbatorix's heart with my sword."

"How are we to know you speak the truth now?"

"I could recount my words to you in the ancient language, if that's what it will take to prove it to you."

"I don't believe that even that could help you now, Lenora. For all we know, your father has taught you how to lie in the ancient language. Your words cannot be proven true, for an impostor such as yourself should never be trusted." Their argument had not helped her state-of-mind and she could feel her composure beginning to crack. Her hands had curled into fists and she began contemplating the consequences of simply punching Eragon in the face.

"Then the egg," she said, voice shaking in fury. "Would a dragon hatch for someone they believed to be evil?"

"I'm sure your dragon is as corrupt as yourself," Eragon replied, causing the young dragon to growl in protest. "In all probability, Galbatorix cursed the egg so that it would hatch for you. I refuse to take your life in cold blood, but you no longer can travel with us."

"We will not leave until you at least heal Murtagh's wound. If you are so high and mighty, you cannot leave him here to die," she said, pushing back her anger for the moment in order to rationally convince Eragon to oblige. Taking another suspicious look into her eyes, searching for another motive, the Blue Rider backed up and knelt next to his brother, murmuring the healing words, closing the outside of the slash but leaving the rest to heal painfully on its own.

"If I heal him completely, he will be sure to soon awaken and attack again," he said once finished. In his eyes shone great anger but his voice was forcefully calm. "Now leave."

Satisfied, Lenora again succumbed to her resentment. She found she couldn't keep her voice from rising in her rage. "After all I've taught you, this is how you deem us? We are not the Forsworn! I thought I knew you better, Eragon. One day you'll realize the mistake you have made today." There was nothing more she could do to show him she spoke the truth. Simmering in anger, she turned and limped over to where her sword lay on the sand, unconcerned if they should strike for she was ready and willing to hit whatever approached. Their weapons stood still as they watched. Saphira allowed Eridor past, ready to attack should he make another move toward her rider. As Lenora jammed the blade into its sheath, accidentally slicing open one shaky hand as she did so, the dragon allowed her to rummage through the saddlebags for a moment until she produced a rabbit she had kept for food while in the desert. Seeing that the rider's waterskin appeared recently filled, she dropped the kill onto the sand next to Murtagh, before climbing onto the dragon's saddle who crouched and leaped into the air.

"Let's get moving. We still have a long way to go," Eragon announced, appearing as if the event had no effect upon him. Only Saphira knew what her rider truly felt but when she reached out to comfort him, her mind was instantly blocked.

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Lenora's anger had never been so consuming since she had left the castle. Though Eridor carried her across the sands, she too had blocked him from her mind as her thoughts raged around in her head. Her rage confined her and she couldn't think clearly. She focused upon the prejudice that Eragon had demonstrated. No matter what she had said, he wouldn't accept it as the truth. But what angered her the most was that she was hurt and she hated feeling so emotionally vulnerable.

After an hour of silent flying, Eridor gently prodded her mind. Her anger simmering down, Lenora allowed the dragon in.

Your mind feels wounded, he commented. I know what happened has hurt you. Lenora stayed quiet. The dragon took this to continue. Was it Murtagh or Eragon who has done this to you?

She sighed, knowing she was going to have to open up eventually. It was both. I know you don't know what it feels like, but to have your only friend sent to kill you is something you don't want to experience…and to have another almost take the life of that one friend only furthered the problem.

But that is not all that troubles you…

Dragons and their intuition! What troubles me is that Eragon's right. She could feel the surprise from her dragon as he asked her if she was being sarcastic. If I had told him earlier, this may not have happened. Or, if it had, we wouldn't have been with Eragon and it would only have been you and me to meet Murtagh in the desert.

Eridor mulled over her words. I believe Eragon would have reacted the same way whether you had told him in the beginning or not. Then you would have been put into the position of dealing that blow or not, he said. Thorn was not far from overpowering me. I have not yet had the fighting experience necessary to duel with him and win. Should you have told him earlier, you may have had to kill your best friend to save me. Would that be what you would have wanted?

Nay, Lenora said quietly, forcing herself to listen to reason. But now he and Thorn lie broken and bleeding in the desert, unconscious. What if they don't survive? I promised Murtagh that I would do everything in my power to free him someday.

Eridor's head snaked around to look her in the eyes. Had this not happened, I believe they wouldn't have survived at all. Galbatorix sent them to kill us, but they were unsuccessful. They would have continued to attack if Eragon hadn't stopped them. If he had chosen to use magic as a temporary solution, when Galbatorix discovers he has failed, he would be in perfect condition to not only be tortured by the King, but to again be sent out in search of us. The dragon faced the wind as he saw the slight recognition in his rider's face. Now, with the injuries from the fight, he will live but both he and Thorn will be forced to take time to recover. In that time, the King will be unable to cause further pain to his rider and we shall be long gone. There were few other ways to take care of the situation. From what I felt during the fight, Thorn is strong and his rider is a fighter as well. They should survive.

We have done Galbatorix's work for him, she realized. Her father would not be able to imbue more torment in Murtagh for the damage was already done. But he couldn't order them to continue their mission until they gained consciousness. My anger has lead me to make some wrong decisions. Had I not been so mad, I could have much more easily explained myself to them. As I doubt Eragon will be readily forgiving, we should follow them and in time, reveal ourselves. Certainly by then, perhaps Saphira will at least have talked some sense into her rider. A daughter doesn't choose her father.

Just because I'm a dragon doesn't mean I know where Farthen Dûr is, her dragon smugly replied. And if we pursue them too closely in order to follow their path, they will quickly discover us.

Then we can stay a day behind them and if we lose their scent or tracks, I could scry them and try to determine where they are from their conversation.

How could you even contemplate using magic again after what happened last time? Eridor scolded. While you might be bull-headed enough to try, personally, I don't wish to experience that again and believe it would be wise to use another method.

But don't you remember that I was able to lift the rock without consequence? Lenora replied, ignoring the dragon's insult. Perhaps it matters in the level of magic I perform. The spell I used during the fight was far more advanced and though the effects were uncharacteristic, I believe it all depends on the amount of magic. I could start with the rock again and work up to scrying. It shouldn't take much more energy and it would only be a last resort.

I don't know Lenora, it could be dangerous. If you hadn't fallen unconscious, you could have easily dropped from my back and I would have been powerless to save you.

Then I'll do it on the ground. I am not exactly eager to go through that again but there must be an explanation. All we need to do is experiment a little. Do you have what it takes the be the dragon of a 'ruthless fugitive of the Empire?'"

Eridor took a moment to respond. Aye, but I will only agree to this plan if you promise to be careful and not to push your limits.

You have my word, friend of my heart, she replied. Knowing the group still was burdened by the necessity of riding the horses, the two agreed to stop on the edge of the desert for the evening and allow them a head start.

--

Though the environment was more hospitable that night, Lenora found sleep would not welcome her. She battled with her mind, trying to suppress the memories that taunted her. The memories of the only sweet moments she could remember in life, as reality raged its ugly war around her. The moments with her mother had been so long before that she no longer could remember much more than that last scene that played in front of Lenora's eyes as Anne fell lifeless to the floor before her father. Thus, the moments she remembered concerned Murtagh, brought on vividly by the sight of him lying so helpless and defeated in the sand as she and Eridor had risen above the grim sight.

It was only through coincidence that she and Murtagh ever met. Had he not become a rider himself, Galbatorix would have had little use for him and Murtagh would not have played any part in Lenora's life. Yet he had had such a significant impact upon her time in Urû'baen. Before his escape, they had hardly known the other existed. If that had been the case, history would have been changed completely as he would have refused to leave her in the grasp of the King while he made his escape. The fact left her wondering if she had made the right choice in doing the same to him. Yet when he had been returned to the castle so forcefully, she had played witness to the poor man's plight as he was magically bound and escorted into the throne room where his screams had pierced her heart as she secretly listened from the hallway behind a statue. She had heard about the flight of Morzan's son, but as she had never met Murtagh, she gave the fact little thought other than unconscious jealousy that he had found a route of escape, whereas she had to continue living out her days obeying Galbatorix and his cruel methods. However, when he had been returned to his quarters that day, she had curiously followed the healers, wondering how someone other than herself could put the King in such a rage. It had taken several days for the young man to recover and due to the guards that constantly surrounded him wherever he went thereafter, she was unable to formally meet Murtagh.

It was when Thorn had hatched that they had really connected. Though she had known of the remaining eggs, that was the extent of her knowledge. Galbatorix did not wish for her to become a rider and thus kept secret anything that concerned these precious artifacts. So when she had seen the tiny red dragon flitting about the training fields when her father had been training Murtagh, she had been immediately interested. She had quickly discovered that the poor hatchling had already been under the influence of dark magic, which allowed him to grow rapidly and talk at an early age. Not to mention how both of them were under the will of the King as their true names were discovered. As she was free enough to encroach upon the fields whenever she felt like, at only a few days of age, the ruby dragon had introduced himself as Thorn and asked her who she was. Once Murtagh had come upon them talking together, they had instantly connected due to their similar situations. Though they had known each other for only about a year, they had become fast friends, despite the other's damning lineage and all three would talk for hours as they had never had anyone to talk to before.

Since that day, they had always been there for the other. Finding a friend in such a dark time in her life kept Lenora from performing that final act with her dagger that would free her from that cruel world forever. Murtagh had saved her life. When a training session with Galbatorix had gone particularly wrong, they had comforted the other with the never-fading hopes that they would one day escape forever. She had made a concerted effort to escape that fateful night without the help of Murtagh as it would have been an action the King would never forgive. But they had had so many times where they would forget where they were and who they were forced to be and would just enjoy their days together, the only happy moments she could truly remember.

Peace, Lenora, Eridor broke her concentration. While you may not be able to relive such sweet moments of life, be grateful that he will live on and one day, we may be able to break the bond that Galbatorix holds to him. Now let your mind rest.

As usual, her dragon spoke the truth. With little else to do, she strengthened her resolve and was able to fall into a not-so-peaceful sleep as Eridor watched the dark horizon.

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Who else thinks the new Reader Traffic feature is awesome? Well, I do. It makes me feel famous worldwide. Now eight reviews and I update!

Concerning the last chapter: Though maybe not absolutely true to Paolini's ideas, my explanation is this: The reason why Murtagh couldn't use magic, as his primary source of power is within himself and Thorn, is because after being in the desert for so long, both Murtagh and Thorn's bodies have been exhausted due to the heat. While a dragon can thrive in the desert, his rider must stay completely healthy in order for the dragon to also be healthy. Such high temperatures for a long amount of time have taken their toll upon Murtagh and he is physically drained. While he may be able to perform magic, it would prove very dangerous or fatal to do so during the fight. Thanks Yasha and Pikachu for pointing this out!

Lulu: Thanks for the ideas. While I already have the rest of the story planned out, as always, I'll take your ideas into account and, if things seem to fit, I might use some of them.

Thanks to Fresh Blood, YASHA3393, lulu, SandStorm, Flaming Dawn, Pikachu, Dumbledare, Alice4Ever and hpjedi1 for the reviews!

-Emerald Dragon Rider