Hi lovely readers! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter (did you catch my Lord of the Rings reference?), and I'll do my best to update regularly (I sort of suck at that. I'm never home!). I only own Armelle, Argenta, and Armelle's father, the rest belong to Chris Paolini. Enjoy!
They arrived outside Carvahall, in a small place called Palancar Valley, two evenings after they entered the Spine. A small farm sat comfortably in the valley, and with her elven vision, Armelle saw a boy returning from a hunt. He carried a bow and quiver, but no meat. He held a stone that looked much like Argenta's egg had, only the coloring was bright, sapphire blue with white veins coursing through it.
He could be another Rider, Armelle thought in shock. But how did the eggs become so separated?
Argenta poked her head out of the saddlebag, their slowing pace seeming to haven shaken her awake from a nap. She squeaked in annoyance.
The half-elf chuckled, pulling the black hood of her cloak over her tied back golden hair and her pointed ears. She tucked her cloak tighter around her body, protecting herself from the biting winter breeze.
Her father glanced at her with soft eyes before urging Mordor forward, and he trotted down the hill. She had Dana follow, nudging Argenta's head back into the saddlebag gently.
"Excuse me," her father called, slowing his massive black horse to stop beside the boy with the dragon egg, who was walking back to his small farmhouse. "Do you know where I can find an old man named Brom?"
Armelle stopped beside him, her hood shading her eyes so the boy couldn't see their exotic color.
"In town, a mile that way." The boy pointed up the other side of the steep valley. "He is usually sitting on the porch of his house, smoking his pipe."
"Thank you," her father replied with an appreciative nod, and urged Mordor forward again.
Armelle followed, Dana struggling to keep up with the war horse traveling up the side of the valley.
She dismounted her horse, taking most of the weight off of Dana so the golden horse could save energy and wouldn't struggle up the hill. She walked beside the horse, following the tracks left behind by Mordor. She made her way up, Argenta repeatedly poking her head out of the saddlebag and attempting to climb out, though continuously failing, caused by the buckle on the bag.
Armelle stopped beside her father when she caught up, whispering assurances to her wheezing filly. He was speaking in murmurs to an old man with white hair and beard, and a hooked nose like an eagle's beak. Her hair and eyes were still shielded from sight, but her graceful, elf-like builf could be seen from beneath her cloak. She was careful to keep her gloves, which revealed the upper halves of her fingers, callused from hunting, over the silver scar that marked her a Rider.
"Come inside, both of you." The old man said gruffly, looking at Armelle with an almost curious gaze. "I will tend to the horses."
"No," Armelle said quickly, too quickly. "My filly doesn't do well with others." She amended, calmer.
"I see," the old man said with one of his thick eyebrows raised. "Very well. Tend to your filly, but I, as a host, feel obligated to take at least one horse."
Her father chuckled. "Brom, your hospitality never fails."
The old man, Brom, made a gruff noise and nodded, taking Mordor's reins. "Come," he told Armelle, "I will lead you to the stables we shall use for your animals."
Armelle nodded and followed him toward stables that she suspected weren't his own.
He stopped and spoke in murmurs to a large man wearing a leather apron, presumably the blacksmith. He nodded and opened his stables to allow them to lead the horses inside.
She walked Dana into the stable gingerly, unbuckling her saddlebags from their station on her leather saddle to take them with her, concealing Argenta's squeak with a coughing fit before excusing herself and removing the rest of her saddle and excusing herself and leaving with her saddlebags.
"What's your name, girl?" Brom asked, raising a wild white eyebrow at her.
She looked at him warily.
He scoffed. "Do not be foolish, child. Your father and I have been comrades since long before you were born, and I knew your mother as well. There is some information I will not share without permission, and this is one of them."
"Armelle," she replied quietly, her left hand, her marked hand, clenching into a fist from her wariness. Her hood was still up, hiding her silver eyes while Argenta twitched in the saddlebag, sensing the half-elf's agitation.
"You cannot stay concealed the entire course of your visit here." Brom said, his voice gentler. "Come. At my home you may rest, and we shall discuss some things there, in private."
"Like?" Armelle asked defensively, clutching her saddlebag closer to her side.
"I will not say here," Brom replied, his voice gruff once again.
Armelle stood a little straighter. "Very well."
He led her back to his home in silence.
This chapter's way shorter than the first one, but I'm pretty sure most will be the length of the first or more. There's just so much stuff, and all of the stuff happening now is from my brain, and not in Eragon. Oh well. Leave reviews!