First of all, an incredible amount of thanks to The Tealeaf Master for some incredibly insightful and helpful advice on a subject that I can't divulge right now. Thanks so much, Brian!!!
And second thanks go to all the reviewers! Thank you all so much for taking the time to submit them.
See, a long chapter at last. I can still do them! Lol. Enjoy!
Chapter Thirty-Five.
The Hatchling.
The house, light and airy, was filled with the song of morning birds and cold sunlight dappled on the floor through the green-tinged windows of leaves; but the occupant of this room was fast asleep – both of them, in fact.
Arya's head lay peacefully on her voluminous pillows and her arm was brought up by her face; and lying against her side, his small scaled head on her belly, lay her hatchling. They were oblivious to the world around them, for the moment.
--
Eragon rolled onto his back, blinking rapidly. The sounds of Ellesmera, birds and animals, were rampant, but he was deaf to their music; he was sweating. Was it really Brom ...? he wondered, thinking of the travel-stained clothes and untrimmed stubble his dream-father had had. Certainly, he was wearing the very clothes he had been buried in.
Saphira? But she out hunting. He got up slowly. Brom, poor, poor Brom, was in the vault of Souls; all those people had given energy to him – Brom, too ... what if, perhaps, they had transferred more than he'd realised? Enough to be able to talk to his unconscious self? Perhaps.
There was a muffled bang from somewhere. Eragon ran to the window and glanced down; nothing. Saphira, what –?
Open the trap-door! She screeched, appearing from nowhere on the windowsill. He leapt into action and threw the door open. Onto the landing, small and ungainly, fluttered the green hatchling.
Eragon stared. The hatchling was less overcome, and began to examine all the various dark and hidden places, such as under the table and beneath Saphira's bed, quite uncaring that Eragon was staring as if he had never seen him before.
"What are you doing?" Eragon asked finally, crouching down and extending his hand to the dragon's nose. It stared at him, large eyes thoughtful. Eventually, and after obviously a good deal of thought, he butted his hard nose into Eragon's hand; he slowly and gently began to stroke the nose.
"It is good to meet you at last." Eragon said courteously. The hatchling, though he didn't understand these words, could sense their meaning. He made a high squeaking in his chest, just as Saphira had, once.
"What are you doing here?" Eragon asked, but the hatchling was gone. He flew rather clumsily up onto Saphira's bed and began to sniff at the blankets. Saphira pushed her head through the portal and loomed over him. The hatchling turned, lowering himself down onto the rugs like a cat about to spring. A faint growl came from his chest. Saphira surveyed him closely.
Finally, Eragon saw a difference; the hatchling stood up and arched his neck, much as Saphira had once done under Glaedr's inspection. Then Saphira, with a snort, lowered her head and nudged his side gently. And then, to Eragon's astonishment, he leapt up, lunged at Saphira, and hit her hard in the stomach.
Saphira hummed with amusement. She lifted a claw and flicked him away casually – but her tail twitched, showing that she was not ignoring him. The dragon, bright-eyed, sat on the edge of the bowl of her bed, his tail thrashing from side to side. He looked quite at home. Saphira, back in her bed, watched him.
What is he doing here, Saphira? Eragon asked tentatively. He had been shown and presented to the elven nation and all the elves were happy and bright – they would have let him go unimpeded to wherever he happened to be.
I saw him coming along our path as I returned from hunting; I shouted to you and by that time he was halfway up the tree, but I do not know why he is here.
Perhaps he came to see you.
Saphira snorted. I will ask him, then. She looked at the hatchling, asking with impressions of words, so that he could understand. All of a sudden, she gave a great growl; when Eragon leapt to his feet, he could see she was laughing.
What is it?
He is hungry! Arya, apparently, was still asleep, and so he came to find me for food again.
Eragon laughed, touching the hatchling on the head; he d not pull away or snarl. We must take him back to Arya, or she will worry.
All right, fine. I'll get some rabbits on the way, though.
Of course. The little dragon, despite his sudden friendliness, would not let Eragon pick him up and so he tumbled around at Eragon's heels as they made their way down the tree; he could have flown down with Saphira, but Eragon didn't think it was best for him to fly that height just yet.
Ellesmera was quiet, the morning being still early, and they met no one. Which was just as well, as the dragon was very bouncy, leaping after leaves, jumping on insects and was also very often sending bright glances at Saphira. And when she gave him a rabbit, carefully ripped up, he insisted on butting one half to her and devouring the rest for himself. Eragon could feel Saphira's thoughts leaping at his actions.
Arya's house, when he knocked on the door, was in complete silence. No worried muttering or frantic searching. Perhaps, he thought with trepidation, she was still in bed. He felt uncomfortable at that. But the door did open, eventually, and Arya stood in the doorway.
"Eragon!" Her hair was tumbled and over her back and her eyes were wide. "It – " She broke off as her dragon emerged from behind Saphira's leg. He stopped dead, staring at her. Then , with the constant energy he seemed to have, he charged forward. Arya, fast as ever, crouched down and he leapt into her arms. As she straightened, holding him tight, Eragon saw, with a pang of anguish and astonishment, that her eyes were overly bright.
"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously. "What happened?"
She stared. "You can tell more than I. I have only just woken." She stepped back in an automatic gesture for him to go inside. After a moments hesitation, he did so. Her bed was rumpled and her pillow certainly not in it's normal place. Arya came in and sat on the padded leather seat that ran along the wall. Her dragon sat beside her, happy to be back.
"What happened?" Eragon asked again. Arya looked away briefly.
"I do not know. Both of us were fast asleep, so far as I know, but when I woke this morning he was not here. And how did he come to be with you?"
Eragon could see the little dragon scrambling into the tree-house in his minds eye. "I had just woken up, when I heard a loud bang. Then Saphira shouted for me to open the trap-door and when I did, this one was there. As it turned out, he was hungry."
"Hungry?" Arya repeated blankly. "That explains it. So he came to Saphira and you for food?" She said tonelessly.
"Yes ... but to Saphira, really. It was only after a careful examination that he let me touch him." Arya looked, though she hid it well, miserable at the thought of her own dragon going to someone else for food. "He nearly dragged us back home to you," he said with a smile. Arya looked better.
"That's good to know." She opened a cupboard full of earthenware jars. "Do you want some tea? Bellaen was kind enough to give me some blackberry yesterday."
"Yes, thank-you, it's very kind."
Arya nodded absently. "I have tea every morning. Bellaen knows and he always makes a point of asking me of what I want."
Eragon felt a very prominent twinge of jealousy. "Bellaen ...?" he ventured cautiously. Arya, filling her kettle, said:
"He is in charge of all the important houses. He is ..." she sat down by Eragon to wait for the water to come to the boil. "He is ... how do the humans say? 'Sweet' on my cousin."
"Niduen?" he must have sounded to surprised, because turned to face him directly. He noticed dully that they were very close.
"Yes, Niduen. My cousin," she told his slowly, as if talking to a simpleton. "I believe she likes him very much as well."
"Ah. I am glad for her." Eragon said with great relief. Good as he was at hiding is feelings, Arya becoming so close to another would be hard for him to ignore effectively ...
"As am I," Arya replied, jumping up to take the kettle off the boil. She poured the tea into mugs, then took her place by him, once more. The sipped their tea in silence for while.
"When ..." Arya glanced at Eragon quickly. "When do we start our ... training?"
Eragon liked this tea; it was deep and fruity. Despite his earlier apprehensions on Bellaen, he did like his choices of tea. "Perhaps when he starts to speak. That may be a few weeks, until he picks up enough language to speak in words."
"But there are so many in Ellesmera – surely he will learn sooner?"
"You may be right – Saphira had only me to speak to and only saw Brom after Uncle Garrow died." Eragon felt and grip of sadness as he thought of Garrow – and, he realised guiltily, it had been months since he had.
"I hope he will soon," Arya said quietly, staring over her mug at the hatchling. He looked back with quite clear adoration in his eyes; when Arya turned back to Eragon, he could see that same expression mirrored in her own.
"Perhaps ..." he hesitated thinking on the dream-Brom's words. "Perhaps if he spent more time with Saphira, as another dragon, but also as a person, it will be ... good for him."
"You as well, I presume?" Her face showed no emotion.
"Yes – that is, if it is all right with you," Eragon said slowly. "And if you would not mind."
Arya put down her empty mug, a contemplative look on her face. "I would like that very much, Eragon."
"Then ... we will see you both at noon today by the Menoa tree?"
"Of course." Arya smiled with a far-off look in her eyes. "I look forward to it."
--
The hatchling had discovered trees. – He launched himself at them, fluttering to the nearest branch, and then laboriously ascending to higher boughs. Eragon and Arya, left on the ground, watched as both dragons traversed the tree, Saphira sitting solidly on a lower branch.
"He really does have unending energy," Eragon smiled, watching the little dragon flitting from broad branch to branch on the Menoa tree.
"Yes ..." Arya, too, lifted her gaze to her hatchling. "Was Saphira as energetic?"
"Oh ..." Eragon thought of those days. "I don't know, I'm afraid. I spent as much time with her as I possibly could, but she was a long way from our farm and when we did meet we would often just sort of ... sit and just ... be with each other."
"What ... what was it like? Before you left your village?" Arya asked, looking uncomfortable at asking such questions.
"Truthfully? I think the best time of my life. Saphira and I developed a very strong nearly straight away. At first I had been thinking of telling Garrow and Roran – who would have wanted to kill her. But after only a few hours I was too attached to her to even contemplate it."
Arya looked scandalised. "They would have killed her?"
"They might have ... they never had chance, though. Out first flight was as she took me away from where the Ra'zac were destroying our farm." His hands clenched on the root he was touching. "I was very angry with her for a while. I felt I could have saved him, had I been there."
Arya looked away. "I never knew. I hope ... I hope that my first flight will be under happier circumstances."
"So do I, Arya. I'm sure it will be. Nothing will happen in Ellesmera."
"No ..." she glanced up at her dragon. "He is supposed to be learning speech from us; how can he do it from up there?"
Eragon grinned. "I can safely say that Saphira is filling his mind with insightful thoughts. Lots of them."
"Oh," Arya said, and smiled back. "But he should still come down."
"Call him, then." Eragon watched as Arya's face became blank as she reached out for the hatchling. After a moment, he was tumbling, half flying and half climbing, down the tree's huge girth. He landed close to Arya and bounded into her arms. Eragon, his mental walls low, could feel his joy at being back with her.
So could Arya. "Hello, small one," she said softly. Eragon blinked; he had never heard Arya speak so tenderly.
The hatchling curled contentedly on her lap; but when Saphira landed by Eragon, he turned to face her; their faces both clouded over and Eragon could feel a myriad of odd words and images being exchanged. Arya could too, and she glanced at Eragon with a small smile on her lips.
"I cannot keep up with their conversation," she said. "How do they communicate?"
"I don't really know," Eragon said thoughtfully. "It is not anything I know about, as Saphira is the only young dragon I have ever known. She's just sort of fallen into a strange language halfway between words and images; perhaps it is what all dragons do."
Arya was silent for a moment. "Dragons are amazing creatures. I had always admired Oromis and Glaedr from the very time I met as a very young child. Glaedr was very good to me, and unendingly patient."
Eragon nodded. That was certainly Glaedr. "Did you ever meet the other Riders?"
Arya's mouth thinned; but, strangely, it seemed more angry than annoyed, as that particular facial expression tended to be on her. "Yes, I did. I met Vrael, once, and his dragon Itilara."
"Really?" Eragon asked, amazed. "What were they like?"
Arya smiled a little shamefacedly. "I was very, very small. I can barely remember them. But ... they were very ..." she paused, looking for words. "They both had great presence. Vrael was tall. That I remember perfectly. I saw him standing by my father and thought that he was the only one I had ever met who could rival my father for sheer ability in everything."
Eragon sighed. "I would so much like to have met them." Arya nodded solemnly.
"Itilara was purple." Arya looked down at her dragon's head where it rested on her thigh. "She was so beautiful. I had never seen anything like her before." She smiled. "As princess, however small, I was presented and introduced to every visitor that came – and Vrael and Itilara were the most honoured." Arya sighed. "I met so many important people that my diplomatic training began at about seven."
Eragon paused, thinking of this. "At seven, I still ran wild about the village with Roran and Albriech."
Arya stared. "How different your childhood was from mine. I ... I suppose that my own was very short."
Eragon looked at her seriously. "As was mine. Not, of course, that I immediately became wise and clever, but Aunt Marian died when I was ten and Roran thirteen. After that we bought the new farm and there was much work to do."
"Your mother's sister?"
"No – I was not related to her by blood – though I might as well have been. Garrow and my mother were siblings."
"Ah." Arya made a flutter of her hands. "And you know of my remaining family, of course."
Eragon smiled sadly. "You have a great deal more of them than I do."
"I ... yes, that's true. I'm sorry," she said, though Eragon was not sure what she was apologising for. "But they died well, I am told."
"Yes ..." Eragon thought of Aunt Marian's death. He fought a lump in his throat. "Their deaths crushed my Uncle."
Arya began to ask after this last statement, then decided against it. "As did my father's death," she murmured. "Evadarr and my mother will never be the same again."
Eragon leant his head against the trunk of the Menoa tree, but turned to look at Arya. "What about you?" he asked gently.
Arya stared at him, going rigid. Eragon saw her swallow and her eyes were bright; but she said nothing. She did not seem capable of it. They spent an indeterminate amount of time just sitting, frozen. Then Arya sprang to her feet, her dragon falling to the ground. "I must go. Good day and thank-you for your kindness ... kindnesses." She walked swiftly and gracefully, though hurriedly, away from the Menoa tree, leaving Eragon and Saphira alone.
Saphira rustled her wings. Poor child.
She's not a child, Eragon said absently, staring after her.
She may as well be one, Saphira said quietly. When you were small the was always someone there for you – you had family. I do not think Arya had that luxury.
Eragon was now fully listening to her. She had her mother.
Saphira snorted. Queen Islanzadi is a good queen, and I am sure she was a good mother, too – but not, perhaps, in the way that Arya needed.
How do you know all this?
I am not blind, Eragon. And more intuitive to ... emotions.
Eragon felt mildly indignant, but was not about to pursue the subject. But Arya ... he struggled with words to say what he felt. Arya is ...
Arya is always composed, always stern and capable – I know. But no one is insusceptible to emotions, even the elves – Arya none the least. And, Saphira said sternly, she is not always in control, as you have seen.
Poor Arya, he said hollowly, echoing her earlier words. But what can I do .. to help? I ... you know her feelings ...
Saphira's tail slapped a root with enough power to break bones. Surely you have not been so blind as to see the way you and Arya behave together?
What do you –
You are so close, in a strange way, that she talks only to you! I would say that it is quite likely that Arya has never revealed so much to anyone before today.
What? Eragon felt only the deepest surprise.
Just ... just continue being you, Eragon. I think that will be the most help.
You ... I still don't understand, Saphira.
Of course not. I don't either, but we must do what we can with what we do understand. We have some students now, too, little one. She licked him affectionately.
Do you think Brom was right?
About what?
About Arya, and all those things he said in the dream. He had, of course, told Saphira immediately of his dream, for lack of a better word.
Undoubtedly. When has Brom ever been wrong?
It was a rhetorical question, and Eragon did not answer it. Arya is very ... proud. Surely she won't like to be taught by us? Well, me. I am much younger.
True, little one, but Arya is also practical. She will realise the necessity in her training well and will work hard, I think, after a while, despite her pride. And also ... why should it be such a blow to her pride to be taught by us?
I found it a blow to my pride to be beaten my Brom at sparring every night.
That, Saphira said with a chuckle, is because it was a blow to your pride.
Thank-you, he replied acidly.
Welcome. Brom, as always, was right – you will have to do more than train her in the arts of the Riders before she and the hatchling can be true Riders.
I know, I know. But it's so hard to start! I cannot just walk up to her and tell her that we start training tomorrow – and the hatchling cannot even speak. That will have to come soon, as well.
Yes, it will. As long as we stay with him – them – I am sure he will learn quicker. I can hear small parts of the ancient language and the common tongue starting to get through to him – by two of weeks or a month he may be speaking. Patience.
Yes, I know.
Meeting them both like this is good – it helps.
Helps who? Eragon asked futilely. And, besides, I doubt Arya will want to ever again; not if the same thing that happened today happens again.
I am only guessing, Eragon, but I do not think Arya will say no – I think she was only shocked and did not know quite what to do.
Eragon sighed, still confused. I hope you are right, Saphira.
As do I, little one.
--
It was a long, grassy meadow, flanked by trees on either side, one of the only fields in Ellesmera. The wind ruffled the tops of the tall grass and they swayed in the breeze. Nothing disturbed the peace – the song of the blackbird in the hazel trees, the tinkle of the brook just hidden from view – but ...
There was a slight disturbance; an unusual ripple in the pattern of the grass; a green, scaled head broke the surface, then disappeared again, a bright green ivory-spiked tail waving over the grass.
Another dragon, large and shining blue, descended from the skies, a limp and very much dead furry thing hanging from her talons. She proceeded to rip it up, throw some to the green dragon, who had come gambolling over to her, and both of them lay down in the grass to enjoy the unfortunate animal.
A faint thread of voices was audible over the wind; two people, a dark-haired woman and tall man, were conversing in the shade of a tall chestnut tree, their low words reaching their dragons only occasionally. It was a happy scene, very peaceful and the aura gentle. Nothing disturbed them.
--
Niduen sat at her desk, a map of Alagaesia spread out on the carved surface. It was beautiful, intricately drawn, every name and tree, rock and mountain drawn in bright colours; even Nia and Sharktooth, the two small island's off Teirm, were blotted in carefully.
But there were mistakes: where Uru'Baen should have been was a golden citadel, almost lifelike. And a label, written in fine calligraphy, read, quite simply, 'Illirea'. And where the valley between Carvahall and Therinsford was, a towering steeple on a tall rock stood, once again labelled plainly, 'The Watch Tower."
Where Farthen Dur was, the sun glinting on the ton of the volcanic crater, a small sapphire was scribed. And beside it the words 'Farthen Dur'. Ellesmera was in amongst all the curling trees, a star making the start of the word. And below it was Ardwen Lake, Silthrim, the Isenstar, Nadindel; none were forgotten and all were done with the hand of one who truly loves and knows his work.
Niduen lifted the corner of the paper; a few word were written there, small and unassuming:
Evarinya un Stenr, Edur un Adurna,
Dai las ith ma'ina
Casintra iet fy priodi.
Evadarr, of House Drottningu.
--
Little one. Saphira nudged Eragon forcefully with her nose. Get up!
All right! Eragon leapt out of bed. What has happened?!
Nothing. But I think it is high time we flew together again. Saphira replied, unperturbed. And the sun had only risen this last hour.
Is it that early? Saphira!
Eragon, get up.
Eragon sighed and began dressing. It will be good to fly again.
Yes, which is why I woke you. Hurry up, Saphira said briskly.
Eragon got the saddle that Brom had made so long ago in a bramble thicket outside Carvahall and threw it over her shoulders. He strapped the girth and martingale swiftly and climbed up. Saphira leapt out of the window and soared high into the air, the wind fresh under her wings.
It is good to be in the air again together again, little one!
I know – it is. The wind whipped his hair and whistled through his clothes, making him feel truly alive. Where to?
Wherever we want. Saphira rolled backwards abruptly and let out a brief stream of fire. Hold on tight.
The sun rose higher; but Saphira and Eragon were still high above the canopy, taking in pleasure in the height and the exhilaration and the pure adrenalin.
Eragon's thoughts, as Saphira steadily ascended even higher, turned to the hatchling, and in turn Arya. He was ten days old now rapidly growing. Arya, Saphira, the dragon, and he, had been spending so many hours together – talking, mainly, but he delighted in the few times that Arya laughed properly.
Eragon's thoughts were interrupted as Saphira pulled up short, flapping heavily to stay in one place. He peered over her head to see what had happened and drew in his breath.
The hatchling hovered before them, his own smaller wings beating rhythmically. The sun shone his scales and they shone like emerald fire; Eragon and Saphira stared. He had become so big! Where was the playful little thing from just a day ago? His eyes, large and as bright as his scales, were coolly calculating. Then he flicked his tail and manoeuvred a small loop so that he was beside Saphira and equal to Eragon. Eragon inclined his head cautiously.
"Good day."
The hatchling cautiously extended his mind to Eragon, who jumped. This dragon had music playing in his thoughts – deep, rich strumming feelings, much like Arya's. And as he returned the gesture, gently touching the small dragon's mind, it flashed him some images.
Arya, beside a vine-wrapped tree, kneeling by a pool, deep in thought.
Eragon and Arya laughing in the shade of a tall chestnut tree and the pleasure it brought to him and Saphira.
And just as abruptly as it had started, it stopped. The dragon stared at Eragon, willing him to understand.
Arya glancing upward and seeing two dragons in the sky, one blue and one green –
Eragon grinned. "Yes, we will come. Thank-you."
The hatchling bobbed his head, then dived back into the canopy and Saphira followed him straight after.
He wants us to come and see Arya? Saphira asked.
Yes ... it took me a while to understand, though.
He is advanced, though, isn't he? His thoughts are very educated, very precise.
He is learning fast.
Aye. Saphira landed with a bump.
"Eragon!" Arya stood up from where she been kneeling by a small pool, her hand on her sword hilt. "What are you doing here?"
Eragon ran his gaze over the dragon, not showing his surprise. "We were flying," he said as an answer. Arya raised an eyebrow.
"I see. Well, will you join us?" Arya gesture to where she had been sitting.
"Of course." As he sat down, the hatchling eyed him, his tail flicking while Saphira watched interestedly.
"How are you out so early?" she asked, picking at the scales of a pine cone.
"Early?" Eragon glanced up at the sky; he had forgotten his abrupt awakening. "Oh, Saphira woke me up a half hour after dawn to go for a fly with her. Not, of course, that I mind," he added hurriedly.
Of course you don't, little one, Saphira said with a flick of her tongue. Arya smiled.
"I hope that soon we both will be flying together." Arya said wistfully, staring sightlessly at her own dragon.
"I am sure you will," Eragon said reassuringly. "He has grown so fast."
"Yes, I know. He has always slept on my bed since he hatched – but soon he will be too big." Arya laughed suddenly. "He is not pleased about it at all."
Eragon nodded with a smile, but a quick thought came to him. "Arya, what will happen when he becomes to big to come into your rooms? You would have to ..."
Arya stared at him, a sad look on her face. "He will have to sleep outside, like a misbehaving dog; I could not bear that."
"No." Arya could see that pain same in his own eyes. "Saphira and I have always been together and the times we have been separated have made us stronger still. Mind you," he said, "the times we were separated, one of us was almost always nearly killed. Still," he continued, "you and he must be able to be together."
Arya said nothing, wondering what he was going to say.
"Are there any other Riders' dwellings in Ellesmera?" he asked eventually with a slight frown. Arya thinned her lips as she thought.
"Yes, I suppose so. They were made for the apprentices, though, the Riders in training. They are quite ... small."
"Oh. Well, we shall have to work something out. It will not do for you both to be separated," said Eragon, his frown lessening. "Perhaps a very large room in Tialdari Hall?"
"Yes, I suppose so; but ..." Arya smiled, shaking her head briefly. "I am very... used to my rooms – I have had them since the age of thirty."
"Thirty ..." Eragon wondered aloud. "But where did you live before that?"
"Close to my parents – my mother's chambers," she corrected. "She would sing to me and tell me things ..." she sighed and stopped talking.
"Arya?" he said cautiously when she had been silent for a long moment. She jumped.
"I'm sorry; I was lost in my thoughts. As I was saying, after a while I started hungering after somewhere I could be alone. It took a considerable time, but when I took the Yawe, she banished me to my then current rooms anyway." She smiled absently. "For some reason I have become rather attached to them. No matter."
"We'll find something," he promised. "How are you?" It was somewhat of a useless question, as he had seen them both only yesterday.
"Oh ... Well, thank-you. I have been thinking of the Varden, though. Won't they need you back soon?"
Eragon folded his arms. "I think they would like to us to go back, yes – but to stay here and start your training is more important."
"If the Varden fails, so does any likely hope of defeating him," Arya said warningly.
"True, but I do not think it will. And also ... the final battle is inevitable now. The Varden can hold it's own until we are both ready to fight."
"The Final Battle." Arya snorted. "Forgive me, I seem to be inheriting my Uncle's pessimism."
"What do you mean?"
Arya folded her arms as well. "When I think of it, I find it hard to imagine how we can win."
Eragon nodded gravely. "But you are reckoning without you and your dragon. You will both make a significant difference to the war."
"Oh, we know," Arya said quietly and Eragon was pleased to hear her say 'we'. "How awful it must have been to be in those last terrible moments before Vrael was killed, though, far worse than our battle will be. I can not imagine how it must have been."
"No. Dragon killing dragon, Rider killing Rider." Eragon met Arya's eyes and they both shared a moment of understanding of the horror that such things would leave in them.
"He ... Oh, he has made so many enemies over the years that surely he did not think that they would rise up against him?!" Arya started to say something else fierce, but stopped herself quickly.
"Morzan too. Brom spent so long hunting him down, looking for vengeance ..." Eragon trailed off. "Well, in that way he met my mother, so I cannot be wholly ungrateful."
"I did not know that Brom knew your mother."
"My mother, Selena, met him in Teirm after he had killed Morzan." Eragon hesitated, wondering how much he should tell her; but Arya had mistaken his silence for the end of his sentence and was not expecting any more words.
"Selena. That's a beautiful name," she said solemnly.
"My family were known for having names that were not quite normal. We were always somewhat different. My grandfather was named Cadoc – and Garrow and Selena were certainly not usual for a small village. When Roran and I were named, that just confirmed most people's belief that were a little bit strange." Eragon laughed. "And Garrow could read, though he never told us!"
Arya looked at him strangely. "He never told you he could read? But ... didn't you see him reading?"
"No, never. It was Brom that told me he could. Garrow did teach us sums and numbers, though – so that 'no damn fool could swindle us out of our money'." Eragon grinned in reminiscence.
"Ah." Arya smiled too. "I can remember being taught my numbers; I took to it very quickly, but teachers despaired of me ever becoming very adept at it."
Eragon thought of his own lessons. "Brom taught me my letters in Teirm because we needed to break into the record rooms. He was not very patient, but I learned quickly enough."
"No, patience was never one of Brom's main points." Arya was about to say something else, but her dragon, who had been quiet up until then, stirred and yawned. He looked at Arya and Eragon could see a limited amount of communication between them.
"I'm sorry, Eragon, I have to go. My cousin as just arrived at my house, looking for me," she said apologetically. "Excuse us."
"Of course." They both stood up.
"Shall we come here again tomorrow?" Arya asked blandly. Eragon's face relaxed into a grin.
"That would be good."
Arya nodded and dragon and Rider began to walk back to Tialdari Hall, Arya the same height as his withers. The sun had risen to nearly the top of the sky, showing how the time had passed into midday.
--
Arya sat on her bed, the windows closed against the chilly wind that threatened to blow the whole tree over. Her dragon, so large that it was impossible for him to sleep on the bed without breaking it, curled on the floor.
Arya smiled at him. Sleep well, she said as a matter of routine – she did it every night. The hatchling snorted and smoke curled from his nostrils. A comb in her hand, Arya began to pull it through her hair.
Niduen was not herself today, was she? If Evadarr has upset her, or even Bellaen ...Arya remembered belatedly that she was a princess. You could do it instead.
She looked over at him. His eyes sparkled with humour, knowing she was jesting.
Have you eaten? He sent a gently affirmative thought. It is good that you can hunt for yourself now. He sent her an indignant feeling at her doubt in his hunting skills.
Arya put down the comb and climbed into bed, shuttering the lamp.
Did you speak with Saphira today? Eragon and she had decided that the best education would be for Arya to speak in the Ancient Language to him and Saphira and he the common tongue.
The hatchling gave a satisfied grunt meaning yes.
Good. Arya stared at him and he stared back solemnly. Goodnight.
He lifted his head and said gravely with a hint of something else in his voice, Goodnight Arya.
Arya shot bolt upright in bed and her hand flew to her mouth in shock and horror, muffling a yelp of fright.
And, he said again with some satisfaction:
Arya.
--
Evarinya un Stenr, Edur un Adurna, Dai las ith ma'ina Casintra iet fy priodi. Means "Stars and stones, hills and water, all lay before me, captured on my parchment." Evadarr's sign.