Chapter 35
Happy Lunar New Years everyone! Well Lunar New Years was yesterday but my family is celebrating it tomorrow :) I decided to update today but don't expect another update for at least a week. I am very busy this upcoming week and I know for certain that I won't have time to write the next chapter. In any case, this chapter is another Arya POV. The next chapter will be Eragon's POV and I believe that the next chapter will be the last one before the big time jump. I hope I've dropped enough clues and such in this chapter to stimulate your brains! :) Someone asked about Formora redeeming herself. I suppose this will be answered in the later chapters. A great majority of you don't want to see her dead in this story (I think there was one reviewer who did). Murtagh...we'll get there :) and as for the servants, they will definitely show up once more. In any case, happy reading everyone!
"Ready!"
Arya froze when she heard Faramir's voice not far off. Like a practiced movement, she saw over two hundred archers reach for their arrows to notch on their bow. Before them, the swordsman slithered their blades from their scabbards, and standing directly at the forefront the spearmen stood, tall and unafraid.
She heard a quiet snort from Formora. "Impressive," she murmured with a slight hint of admiration. "Even the best of Galbatorix's dogs can't pull off such a formation. He's trained them well."
"Now is not the time for your sarcasm," hissed Arya as she overtook Formora with long strides. She had to get between the Forsworn and the Varden before chaos erupted. "And tell your dragon to stay behind us and not to look as if he might attack."
"Oh, will you be talking in my defense?" asked Formora, her tone sounded light but there was a slight edge to it as if she was tensed and ready for a fight. Had the time been appropriate, Arya would have felt a small sense of satisfaction to know that Formora was for once worried about the circumstances she found herself in. However, this was not the time nor the place for such matters. Walking further, she signaled for Formora to stop behind her. The heavy thuds of Formora's dragon ceased and that was all she needed to know that Formora and her dragon had heeded her words.
Head held high and not a trace of anxiety showing on her face, she stepped forward watching as recognition lined the faces of the soldiers. There was a twitch of movement in the soldiers that stood as a barricade before them, forcing them to remain in the area before the mouth of the tunnel and cutting off any access deeper into Farthen Dûr.
"Everyone, stay your hand!" Faramir yelled. Arya blinked trying to look for him amongst the soldiers. Her search ended when she caught sight of him standing at the forefront with Deynor, Rosalie, Angela, and Orik. She'd supposed King Hrothgar wasn't bothered for this meeting or perhaps he didn't have enough time to marshal his forces to come greet them. That was a good sign. Without the presence of the dwarf king, it could be easier for her to negotiate Formora's fate. "Lady Arya is with them!"
They still have trust in me, thought Arya suddenly feeling more confident as the warriors listened intently to Faramir. The young commander was staring at her or rather past her with a hard expression. His eyes were probably trained on Formora's large dragon that looked more threatening and ferocious than a few hundred soldiers could ever come close to. At least they did not jump to conclusions and believe that I was working alongside Formora.
Her eyes caught Deynor's. His eyes were sharp and he was staring at her intently as if trying to divine the reason for her being in Formora's presence. She kept her gaze on Deynor before her eyes slid to Angela. Their first priority was to get Eragon treated. "Angela," in her mind, she willed the witch to remain serious and not start off in her eccentric ways. "Eragon is injured and he needs treatment."
She gestured behind her to Formora watching as their eyes slid to Eragon's motionless form. To her relief, Faramir was the first to react at the sight of the injured elf.
"You two," Faramir gestured to the two soldiers beside him. "Take hold of Sir Eragon."
They sheathed their blades and hurried forward. When Formora's dragon released a breath of air, Arya was impressed when they flinched only slightly but did not falter as they stopped before Formora, holding their hands out for the injured elf. With a frown, the Forsworn released Eragon and place him in their arms. He was instantly carried to Angela.
"He was poisoned with Skilna Bragh while imprisoned. Only Túnivor's Nectar can save him now," said Arya watching as Angela's eyes narrowed. The witch glanced at Eragon's pale and prone form before her eyes darted back to Arya with a silent promise saying that she would take care of him. Arya tilted her head slightly and she watched as the soldiers carried Eragon after Angela wishing she could go with them and see to it that Eragon was treated accordingly.
The last glimpse she had of him was his pale face which was lightly covered in a sheen of sweat before she turned her attention back to Faramir, Deynor, Orik, and Rosalie. All four of them were armed and from their tensed stance, she could tell that they were ready to fight if need be. Her eyes lingered on Orik. The dwarf was glaring at Formora, his hand gripping the handle of his axe tightly and his eyes burning with a fervor for battle.
Her eyes darted back to Formora and she inwardly cursed. There was no way to get through this without trying to act as a medium between the two forces. Formora was never one to take orders and if Deynor or Orik demanded that she submit herself to their authority, she would sooner fight than agree. Willing to risk it, Arya leveled Formora with a serious look before reaching out slowly with her mind to touch the Forsworn's. There was a slight twitch of Formora's brow as their minds touched but apart from that, she remained motionless.
Tentatively she lowered the barriers to her mind to allow Arya contact with hers. Almost immediately Arya fought the urge to wince. When she had tried to protect Eragon's mind from Formora, she had not been able to fully touch the Forsworn's mind. But this time, their connection was unimpeded and what she felt made her want to close her eyes and withdraw within herself. Formora's mind was strange and harsh like the chill of a frosty winter or the blaze of a smith's bellows. It was unforgiving and dark. Was this because of her connection with her dragon?
Trying not to stray too far into her mind, Arya kept her expression placid and collected. Let me speak, Arya told Formora. There was a shift in Formora's thoughts and she could feel an underlying sense of dissatisfaction from her. It will do you no good to speak with Deynor only to offend him. I may not know you, Formora but what I've seen these last few days have made it clear to me that you have a tendency of overstepping your bounds in conversation.
Do what you will, Formora replied and Arya did not have to be looking at her to know that she was glaring at her back. Satisfied with Formora's answer, she turned her attention back to Deynor waiting for him to speak first. It was a subtle gesture of showing him that he had the authority in this situation.
Deynor stared at her for a long moment before he spoke, his voice grave and his expression critical. "What is the meaning of this, Arya?" He was careful, Arya observed, not to make blatant accusations. And that was when she finally realized the game of power that they were playing amongst themselves. Though Arya served in the Varden and underneath the leader of the Varden, she was still the ambassador of her people and therefore her loyalties laid with her king. If Deynor threatened or accused her of crime, it would reflect on her people. And he couldn't risk such, thought Arya in understanding. The elves were great allies to the Varden. While the dwarves housed them, the elves sent their support through supplies and such.
"Lady Arya, please step this way," Faramir was gesturing for her to join them and remove herself from the line of fire. No doubt to give the archers a clear range to volley arrows at Formora, thought Arya. Her eyes darted to the commander. He was one of the few that she could call her friend amongst the Varden. Faramir was young when she'd first met him but he had spirit and a mind of a leader. Yet, that wasn't the reason why Eragon had spoken to Deynor about appointing him as the commander of their forces. Above all, Faramir was kind.
"Not until we address the situation at hand," said Arya, her eyes darting to Deynor. His expression had become severe and a touched bewildered.
"Barzul! There is nothing to speak of!" Orik snapped, his eyes having never left Formora. "How dare you soil our halls with your presence! How dare you show yourself here!"
"Orik," Rosalie said her tone firm but yet comforting. "Calm down. I am certain that Arya has an explanation for this. We can trust her."
"I know that!" the dwarf snapped back looking ready to slam his axe into the closet thing he could find. "It's that wretched Forsworn I do not trust! How are we certain that she hasn't bewitched Arya?" Insulted that Orik should have such little faith in her, Arya narrowed her eyes. Had their situation not been so precarious she would have argued with Orik. Formora may be a Forsworn but with years of training her mind with her father, she had learned to guard the secrets of her thoughts well enough. "I would rather cut off mine own foot than trust in her and her blasted dragon!"
With that said, he spat angrily on the ground in Formora's direction.
There was a flash of anger in Formora's mind and thoughts of cutting out Orik's tongue emerged in her mind before Arya sent sharply her way, enough, Formora. If you dare to show any ill will towards Orik, it will make our situation with the dwarf clans harder.
I do not need to grovel at their feet, Formora snapped back, her thoughts dark and foreboding. In response, she felt Formora's dragon shift behind her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of the large creature lifting his head a little higher, his brown eyes trained on the mass of warriors before them. A puff of air left him, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Behind them, Veric made a low growl. I know well enough that they would like to see me dead before allowing me further into their halls. There is no need for you to feign ignorance, Arya.
She bristled, her lips pressed into a hard line. This is exactly why Arya did not want her to speak directly to Deynor, not in the very least before all of these warriors. They needed to be somewhere with less prying eyes. You are not making this any easier for yourself, Arya told her as she tried to find a solution.
"It is for the best Deynor," Arya began, "If we can speak about this elsewhere."
You surprise me, Arya, said Formora as they watched the leader of the Varden contemplate Arya's words. I had not expected to have you speak on my behalf. Are you not worried what your leaders might think of you trying to speak for their enemy?
I know well enough what it is that I am doing, said Arya in return. She was not incompetent and nor did she not know the consequences of her actions. She just didn't want to see an organization that she worked so hard for erupt into chaos at the sight of a Dragon Rider that was one of their branded enemies.
Then why?
"I cannot agree with what you asked for, Arya," said Deynor and instantly she tensed. Would this inevitably lead to a fight? Would Formora and her dragon end up trying to escape the Varden? "Not until I understand why it is that a Forsworn would dare to show her face here. Nor can I trust what you say until you have been examined by one of our own."
"I am myself, Deynor, and no one else." Did he think that Formora was capable enough to overcome her mental barriers?
"That has yet to be seen," Deynor shook his head and she saw a slight gleam of apology in his eyes. "We must take precaution, Arya. Only then can I trust that you are who you claim to be and not someone else."
Back stiff and head held high, she stared at the man who she'd served since he was elected as leader of the Varden. If she rebelled against his orders, she would be going against his authority. The only way left for her was to agree with the condition he'd laid before her. With reluctance, Arya nodded.
"And you, Formora," Deynor turned to the Forsworn. "What brazen audacity is this? Why are you here?"
"Deynor, was it?" Arya let a breath pass between her lips as Formora strode forward with ease and confidence. There was only a slight tension to her actions and even then it didn't seem as noticeable. Her head was held high and proud and there was a slight smirk on her lips as she surveyed the Varden. "I see that Brom is not amongst you."
"Fortune has smiled upon you," said Deynor as he raised his hand to gesture for the warriors to keep still. "Had he been here, you would not have stood before us untouched as you do now. Now answer me, Formora. Why are you before me as you are now? Did you believe that you can merely appear in Farthen Dûr with leisure and hope to walk away unscathed?"
"I do not have a hard time believing so," said Formora her blue eyes piercing. "Mere humans can do little to harm me much less attempt to even put a scratch on me. I was not chosen by Galbatorix without reason. If I had wanted to do away with you, I would have done so the moment I stepped foot from the tunnel."
Formora, said Arya warningly as the expression on Deynor's face tightened and his fingers seem to twitch as if he was readying himself to give the order to attack. Do not provoke him so. He will not hesitate to rain you with arrows.
Let him try, Formora's smirk seemed to grow slightly but she did not seek to anger Deynor any further. Instead, she brought a hand up to sweep a strand of dark hair behind her ear. A minute passed and then she spoke. "I come with a truce."
A murmur ran through the Varden and Arya allowed her eyes to sweep the ranks of the soldiers. Their expressions varied. From mutinous to curiosity, they all stared at the haughty and beautiful Forsworn, ready to act once Deynor gave his orders. Her eyes shifted to the others. Deynor appeared stunned. Orik was red faced and muttering into his beard. Faramir was staring at Formora as one would stare at an intricate puzzle as if trying to decide for himself what the Forsworn really wanted. The only expression that was distinctly different from the rest was Rosalie. She was staring at Formora with a look of recognition and Arya knew instantly that the talented and unchanging Rosalie had figured out who Formora was connected to.
I have always liked Rosalie in a way, Arya blinked not realizing that Formora had heard her thoughts. Apart from her affections for Eragon, she is a decent person. There was an underlying hint of possessiveness in Formora's thoughts but Arya paid no heed.
You have more to worry about than those who are interested in Eragon, Arya retorted, fighting the urge to turn her head and glare at Formora.
"Well?" prompted Formora, levelling Deynor with a look. "Will you accept my truce, Deynor? Or will you turn me away at the point of a sword, knowing full well that I possess the knowledge of Galbatorix's power?"
Everything clicked into place. Arya's eyes widened slightly in surprise and this time she did turn her head to look at Formora. She was standing proud and tall and most importantly, unafraid before Deynor and his warriors. Behind her, her dragon stayed with his large eyes trained on the possible threat before him. Staring at Formora in this moment, Arya understood why it was that Galbatorix had accepted her as a Forsworn and why she was still alive to this day when her brethren were being slain at the hands of Brom and Eragon.
Formora was powerful but more than that —she was cunning and confident in her own abilities. She had come prepared. She had known that appearing before the Varden would be as good as signing off her free will. But she had a means to bargain. Not only that but she was gambling on the chance that Deynor would see that defeating Galbatorix would be more important than bringing justice to Formora.
"Only if you submit yourself to us," said Deynor, his eyes hard. "And even then I shall not have a definite answer for you. We have our allies to consider and even if I accept your truce, they may not. However, if you surrender yourself to us, then perhaps we can give your truce consideration."
Surrender myself to you? Not very likely, thought Formora.
You will have to, said Arya. If you refuse, you are putting Deynor in a difficult position.
Formora's blue eyes darted to her and they stared at one another for a long moment before she frowned and then gave a jerk like nod of her head. "Very well, if that is what it takes for you to consider my truce then I shall do as you say," her tone was sharp and her mind was a whirl of protest. There was a flash an image which gave Arya pause. It lasted for only a moment but an image of Eragon flashed through Formora's mind before it was gone. Feeling as if she'd seen something personal, she tried her best to stem their connection until only a feeble link connected them.
"I shall take your word for it," Deynor lifted his hand, raising his voice. "Men, surround them!"
Without any hesitation, the soldiers parted like a river about a boulder and circled about them. Not fazed in the least, Arya was glad when Formora's dragon did not act up. Instead, he seemed bored and his tail swung back and forth almost lazily. There was the sound of soft padding behind her and then she felt a warm breath on the back of her neck. Turning, she reached up to gently stroke Veric's muzzle. The white Shrrg was ill at ease with all the weapons pointed at them and he seemed to want to stay close to Arya.
"If you attempt anything, I will not hesitate to order my warriors to turn their blades on you," said Deynor walking forward with Orik, Faramir, and Rosalie following behind. The dwarf was still muttering mutinously underneath his breath. He was glaring at Formora and looked as if he wanted nothing more than to sink his axe into her flesh. Now if the Az Sweldn rak Anhûin found out about Formora, there will be much turmoil from the dwarf clans. And there is also a matter of my father. She knew without a doubt that she had to report this to Evandar and her people. It would be the utmost disrespect to him as her king if she allowed the Varden and dwarves to pass judgment on Formora without his deference.
"I should feel honored that you are threatened by me so," said Formora not the least bit afraid or so it seemed. Arya brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Even now Formora was still making jests. "Or should I say that I should feel flattered to be more precise?"
Now is not the time, Arya told her with a frown. Formora did not acknowledge her but from the tinge of amusement in her thoughts, Arya knew that she heard her. Deynor held Formora's gaze for a long moment before he turned to lead them away. "This way."
Be cautious and do not make any sudden moves, warned Arya as she followed behind Deynor. Formora made a quiet sound of exasperation before she followed behind Arya. All about them the circle of warriors shifted with them, keeping their weapons pointed on them or rather Formora. They swept past a sculpture of a peculiar animal with thick quills. The corridor curved sharply to the left, then to the right. A door opened and they entered a bare room large enough for Formora's dragon to move around with ease. There was a hollow boom as the door closed, followed by a loud scrape as a bolt was secured on the outside. Arya frowned as she waited for Deynor's further instructions.
Only half of the warriors that had encircled them, ranged the perimeter of the room and seeing them enclosed in a space with a fearsome dragon seemed to cause them to further tense. "You will be staying here until we decide to pass judgment over you and your actions," said Deynor as he turned to face Formora. "Do I have your word that you will not attempt to break free from here as well as not harm my people?"
There was a long stretch of silence that caused the leaden tension in the room to increase before Formora nodded, her expression rather grim. "I give you my word," she said.
Deynor nodded and then he turned to Arya, "I apologize Arya but I need to have your mind examined. I know that the most competent person for this task would be Eragon but since he is injured, I would ask that you cooperate with someone else."
"Do what you must," said Arya still somewhat irked that he would be weary of her. But she understood where it was that he was coming from. He was the leader of the Varden and as such he had a responsibility to the people to keep them safe.
"Let me, Deynor," said Rosalie stepping forward, her emerald eyes bright. "An elf's mind is dangerous territory. I'll naught lose a spellcaster if they were to wonder too deeply into Arya's mind out of curiosity."
"Very well," agreed Deynor.
Stepping forward until she stood directly before Arya, Rosalie inclined her head. "Are you ready, Arya?"
With thin lips, Arya nodded. She'd known Rosalie for a long time. Though she was human, Rosalie was different in the fact that she didn't age. Over thirty years had passed since she'd first met Rosalie, and the beautiful redhead woman still looked as young as she did when they'd first met. Without another word, Rosalie closed her eyes and probed Arya's mind with a tendril of thought. Trusting in the skilled archer, she lowered her barriers to allow her entrance. After a few minutes, Arya was glad that Rosalie had agreed to probe her mind to make sure she was who she claimed to be. She was quick and careful, making sure to stay away from the more personal and private matters of Arya's thoughts and memories. When she sifted through the most recent memories involving her stumbling across Formora and Eragon up to their arrival to the Varden did she withdrew.
"She is Arya," said Rosalie as she stepped back, opening her eyes once more.
A flash of relief crossed Deynor's mind as he nodded. "That is good to know," he smiled at Arya. "I apologize Arya but I had to make certain that you are who you are given that you are in…such presence." His eyes darted to Formora.
"It is understandable," said Arya.
Understandable? Your feelings tell me otherwise, said Formora. Arya felt her brows furrowed and purposely ignored Formora. It would not do to get into an argument with her before Deynor.
"As for you," said Deynor eyeing Formora, "I will have this room warded by magic as well as assign guards here. If you attempt to break free, this temporary truce that we have shall be rendered useless and I will not hesitate to kill you."
Spoken like the leader he is, said Formora with a tinge of amusement. Then her thoughts grew slightly darker. However, as imposing as Deynor is, he holds no candle to Galbatorix. There was a flash of another image in Formora's mind. This time rather than Eragon she saw a shadowed figure sitting upon a grand throne, an old jewel encrusted gold crown sitting atop his hand and a pale blade lying across his knees. Arya blinked, thrown off guard by the sudden image.
"Of course," said Formora despite the seriousness of her voice, Arya could not help but feel as if she were mocking Deynor and she was positive that the leader of the Varden thought so as well. He nodded and with a raise of his hand gestured for the others to follow him out.
"Arya," she turned as Deynor lingered by the doorway. "I shall be holding conference early morn with King Hrothgar and I wish to see you in attendance as well. There is much we have to discuss." As he said this, his eyes slid to Formora and he frowned, his hand instinctively going to rest on the pommel of his sword.
"I shall be there," promised Arya.
"That is all I ask." Turning on his heels, he exited the room, Faramir and Orik following behind him and behind them followed the soldiers. Bringing up the rear, Rosalie shot Arya a concerned look before departing with the rest. When the door closed behind her with a dull boom, Arya sighed disconnecting her mind from Formora's. Instantly there was a sense of relief that permeated her body. She had not realized how painful it was to keep in constant contact with Formora's mind and was surprised that the Forsworn was not in a horrid mood due to her own mental pain.
Was that because of her connection with her dragon? Arya asked herself again but she did not move to ask Formora feeling as if it were too personal a question.
"It is surprising that whilst I was Elvina, my living quarters were not as bare as this," said Formora, walking about the large and bare chamber. She turned slowly on the spot before a low chuckle left her lips.
"What is it that you find so amusing?" asked Arya running a hand through her hair. Her heart was beating irregularly in her chest and it felt as if she'd run miles. She hadn't realized how nervous she was until the situation was over—at least for the meantime. It was bound to come crashing down when King Hrothgar was informed of the situation not to mention her father. Her fists clenched. What was wrong with her? Why was she so concerned? Formora was her enemy…wasn't she?
What is happening to me? When have I started to self-doubt myself?
"The situation in general, do you not?" asked Formora, eyes gleaming. "I have lived here as if I was one of your own for nigh on thirty years and all of you accepted me without question, without threats. And to find out that I am actually, Formora—a Forsworn and your sworn enemy—I am a pariah amongst your midst. Strange how the world works. You would agree, wouldn't you then, Arya, that deception is oftentimes better than the truth?"
"I have no answer to such a question," said Arya eyeing Formora warily. "I shall leave to see to Eragon. While you stay here, do not do anything that would give Deynor or anyone else a means to act out against you. Your situation is already strained enough without any adage of crimes here. I will have a meal brought to you as well as several blankets and such."
"Arya." She paused waiting for Formora to continue.
"Yes, Formora?" she turned to the elf, who was wearing a serious expression on her face since the first time they'd stepped into the bare chamber.
"Take care of Eragon," she said in the ancient language, her feelings for the elf obvious in her sapphire eyes. "Do not allow them any reason to take up any sort of mistrust in him. Even though I disagree with him, the Varden is his life's greatest devotion."
The strange feeling returned to her once more. It was unlike a feeling she'd ever felt for anyone else. Not even Fäolin could garner such strong emotions from her. Arya blinked twice before she acquiesced to Formora's words. "I shall never allow them to do such," she tried to sound reassuring. "When he wakes, he will no doubt come to see you. You just have to wait a little while longer."
"That is why I am here," said Formora, with a slight upward curl of her lips.
"Do not forget it," with that said, she opened the door and stepped out, closing the door behind her. A sheen of emerald magic shimmered over it and it was sealed shut. Staring at the door that barricaded Formora and her dragon inside the chamber, she turned to Veric. The white Shrrg had been a silent companion by her side that she'd almost forgotten about him.
"Take me to Eragon, Veric," she told him gently.
A deep sound rumbled in his chest and then he turned to the left and bounded off. Following behind him, Arya let him lead her down several hallways and turns until they came upon the hidden hallway that led to her and his quarters. Angela must have had him taken back to his chambers.
Walking up to the door, she placed her hand on the handle and with a turn of the knob, pushed the door open. Entering his spacious chambers, she kept the door open for Veric to follow in behind her before closing it quietly.
The sight that greeted her made her heart clench with worry. Had they been too late? Angela was bustling about Eragon's bed where he laid, pale, shivering, and sweating. Quietly walking up to them, she stopped alongside Eragon's bedside, watching as Angela tilted a bowl of golden liquid against Eragon's lips, holding his head so that he could drain the liquid.
"How is he?" asked Arya quietly as she watched the golden liquid flow between his lips. When the last of it was gone, Angela set the bowl aside and turned her eyes to Arya, a solemn expression on her face.
"He should be on the road to recovery now that I've given him the antidote," said Angela. "It is a good thing that he is in a trance else he would have been killed by the poison. One small drop is enough to kill." She reached out to place a hand on his forehead. "His fever is reducing. He should be right as rain in a few days."
"That is good to know," said Arya a feeling of intense relief flowing through her. She reached down and gripped his hand, squeezing slightly. His skin was clammy and the skin was slick with sweat but the temperature was dropping. That was a good sign, thought Arya. She squeezed his hand once more before releasing it. Opposite of her, Veric quietly slinked forward and rest his large head on the bedside beside Eragon only to be shooed away by Angela. A whine left his lips but he did not go against the witch's order and instead made himself comfortable in the far corner of the room, curling in on himself.
"How is Formora?" asked Angela conversationally as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
"Are you not surprised?" asked Arya surveying Angela with curiosity. She didn't seem surprised.
"Mildly," said Angela her own eyes studying Arya intently. "What surprises me more than finding out that Elvina and Formora are the same person is the fact that you do not seem as adamant as Orik or Deynor to incarcerate her. Why is that?"
Why indeed? Her eyes sliding away from Angela, she found herself staring at Eragon's resting form once more before she lifted her shoulders in a noncommittal gesture. "I am not sure myself," said Arya, she hesitated slightly. "All I know is that she is very sincere when it comes to Eragon's wellbeing. I am grateful to her for saving him that much I will admit."
"Is that so?" Angela tapped her chin thoughtfully with her forefinger before she raised a brow in Arya's direction. "Regardless, you and Eragon both have your hands full. Not only do you have to find reason to allow her to live but you also must find a way to keep the As Sweldn rak Anhûin from exacting their revenge on her."
"You think I have not thought of such?" asked Arya feeling her earlier headache returning. She closed her eyes and let out a breath. "There is little I can do with Eragon unconscious. I have my king to answer to. Only Eragon has the power to influence any opinions made by the leaders, you surely understand that as well as I do, Angela."
"I do," Angela lowered her hand and crossed her arms before her chest, a corner of her lips quirked to the side. "However, even then Eragon will be limited in how to speak in regards to Formora. Events are changing more than he thought."
"What are you talking about?" Confused at the sudden turn in Angela's words, she waited for the witch to clarify herself.
"Nothing of importance," Angela waved away her concerns. "At least not for the moment. I dare say that we should focus our efforts on what is happening now, in any case."
"There is nothing we can do," said Arya shaking her head. "We will have to wait to see what it is that Deynor decides."
"Wouldn't your king want a say in this?" asked Angela genuinely curious. "Formora is one of your people. It is only natural that he would want dominion over her fate."
"I cannot speak for my king," said Arya thinking of her father. "I shall inform him of Formora and await his orders."
As the words left her, she remembered vividly what Formora had said once to her. You on the other hand, Arya, do not have the heart nor the spine to pass judgment on me if I do speak to you of such matters. You are, shall I say, a silent spectator.
Instantly her lips curled downwards as she realized how painfully true Formora's words were. She was the elven ambassador for her people and yet she had never felt so silent and unheard. I should not let her words affect me so, thought Arya but it was hard for her mind to fight her heart. Her eyes darted to Eragon and for a moment she wished that she had his unnerving self-confidence but she didn't.
That is the difference between Formora and I, thought Arya as she made her way back to Formora's chamber after having left Angela with Eragon and she walked, she paused, a strange feeling washing over her. She glanced behind her. It felt as if someone was behind her but she wasn't sure. She turned forward once more. Walking a few more steps, she stopped when she heard a soft rustle behind her.
Instantly alert and cautious, Arya continued forward luring whoever it was that was tailing her into a false sense of security. As she neared the hallway that led to where Formora was being kept she heard a distinct shift behind her. Hand flying to her sword, she turned drawing out her blade in time to deflect a dagger that was aimed for her throat.
Her eyes darted to the person that stood behind her. Whoever it was, the person was dressed entirely in black. From their short stature and build, she assumed that the assassin was a dwarf. Rather than continue their attack, the person instantly turned and fled. She ran after them. Rounding the corner, she stopped when she was greeted by an empty hallway.
Was that person part of the Az Sweldn rak Anhûin? Had they heard word of Formora yet? Keeping her sword in her hand, she cautiously glanced about ready to spring into action at the slightest sound but nothing stood out to her. Everything was silent save for her own breathing. Whoever that was, they were smart. Frowning deeply, she cautiously backed out of the hallway.
Sheathing her sword, she continued down the hallway. The assassination attempt had failed and she knew that the person would not attempt to try once more now that she was alerted to their presence. Bending down to pick up the dagger where it had fallen, she studied the black liquid that coated the blade. The dagger, she could tell from looking, was of dwarf make. Other than that there was nothing else about the weapon that could point out to her who the assassin was.
How complicated everything has suddenly become.
Twirling the dagger in her hand, her frowned deepened as her troubling feelings coursed through her. Now the decision rested with her in whether she should inform her father about the assassination attempt or keep quiet about it. If she spoke out, her father would no doubt come to her defense, demanding for the suspect so that he could pass judgment over them. But if she did not speak out, the assassin would slip free.
You are, shall I say, a silent spectator.
Her hand tightened over the pommel of the dagger. Careful to keep the weapon pointed away from her body, she turned making her way back to her quarters than to Formora's chamber. Whoever it was that was brave enough to attempt such a cowardly act, she would make certain that they would come to regret their actions. She was Arya Dröttningu and she would not have anyone make a mockery out of her or mistaken her for a weakling. She would make certain that everyone knew such, including Formora.
Enough is enough.
Complications within complications. When will anything ever be easy for Arya? What I like most about writing Arya's character is addressing the black/white aspects of her that CP created for us. It's fun to create her character from the rather removed image of her that we get from the books. I just love writing Arya! (Can you all tell?) A few of you have apparently turned to the dark side (Haha) I'd never thought I'd see the day that Eragon is being shipped with someone other than Arya. I think Eragon and Formora would he a funny couple if they ever got together-at least in this story. Anyways, I shall be celebrating Lunar New Years with my family tomorrow! I shall see you all in a week or so!