Armelle stood beside Gertrude's chair where she rested after two full days of trying to heal Eragon and Garrow. Armelle mixed healing herbs for the rotund woman, sharing a dream with Eragon as he laid unconscious on the bed.
He watched as a group of people on proud horses approached a lonely river. Many had silver hair and carried tall lances, but one of the same tall stature had hair of almost glowing gold. A strange, fair ship waited for them, shining under a bright moon. The figures boarded slowly; two of them, taller than the rest, walked arm in arm. Their faces were obscured by cowls, but he could tell that one of the two was a woman. They stood on the deck of the ship and faced the shore. A man stood on the pebble shore with the golden-haired woman, the only two that had not boarded the ship. The man threw his head back and let out a long, aching cry. As it faded, the ship glided down the river, without a breeze or oars, out into the flat, empty land. The vision clouded, but just before it disappeared, Eragon glimpsed three dragons in the sky.
Armelle glanced at Gertrude, making sure the woman was still asleep with her ball of woolen thread and knitting needles sitting in her lap.
When Eragon stirred awake, Armelle smiled slightly at him. I'm glad you're awake.
Eragon nodded slightly before Gertrude stirred.
She opened her sparkling eyes and spoke in a rich and warm voice. "Oh, you're awake. Good! How do you feel?"
"Well enough," Eragon replied, "where's Garrow?"
"Over at Horst's," Gertrude started to explain. "There wasn't enough room here for both of you. Thank the gods for Armelle, though. Without her the two of you would have kept me on my toes even worse than I already have been."
Armelle didn't acknowledge. She didn't feel like she'd done much of anything.
"How is he?" Eragon asked after a moment.
"Not good," Gertrude said after a moment of hesitation. "He has a fever that refuses to break and his injuries aren't healing."
"I have to see him," Eragon tried to get up and Armelle pushed him back down for Gertrude, though her muscles were still sore from trying to lift the large beam.
"Not until you eat," Gertrude said sharply. "Armelle and I did not spend all this time sitting by your side so you can get back up and hurt yourself. Half the skin on your legs was torn off and your fever broke only last night. Don't worry yourself about Garrow. He'll be fine. He's a tough man."
Gertrude hung a kettle over the fire and began chopping parsnips for soup.
"How long have I been here?" Eragon asked after another moment, that time looking at Armelle.
"Two full days," she said quietly.
His eyes blew wide. Two days! And you've been here with me all this time?
Armelle nodded slightly.
Saphira! She and Argenta have been alone all this time; I hope they're alright.
They are fine. They have been caring for one another.
"The whole town wants to know what happened," Gertrude started again. "They sent men down to your farm and found it destroyed."
Eragon nodded slowly—apparently he had expected that much.
"Your barn was burned down… Is that how Garrow was injured?"
"I… I don't know," Eragon admitted. "I wasn't there when it happened."
"Well, no matter. I'm sure it'll all get untangled." Gertrude resumed her knitting while th soup cooked. "That's quite the scar on your palm."
Eragon clenched his hand, and Armelle did the same thing out of reflex.
"Yes…"
"How did you get it?"
"I've had it ever since I can remember," Eragon answered slowly. "I never asked Garrow how I got it."
"Mmm." Gertrude hummed in thought.
Armelle clenched her left palm again, standing to grind more herbs for Gertrude.
"That's enough for now, Armelle," Gertrude told her gently. "You can take a break, go check on your father."
"It's alright, ma'am." Armelle assured. "I will stay and help you with what you need."
Gertrude poured Eragon some soup before she tried to force Armelle to eat. "You haven't eaten since yesterday evening, child," the healer protested when Armelle didn't accept the fresh soup. "Take something, or I'll be nursing you in that bed next."
Armelle sighed and took a small bowl from Gertrude with a thankful glance. She knew that she wouldn't have eaten unless she was forced to, despite that she needed food as often as anyone else, half-elf or not.
Eragon was finished long before Armelle was, but impatiently waited until she was finished to ask to go see his uncle again.
Gertrude sighed. "My, you are a determined one. Well, if you really want to, I won't stop you. As long as you take Armelle with you, so she can tend to you if you fall, or take care of your uncle with Elain."
Armelle nodded and stood up from the end of the bed, helping Eragon to his feet, turning away as he moved to pull his pants over his bandaged thighs.
Gertrude almost chuckled at the sight before Armelle took ahold of Eragon again and helped him from the room.
The rotund woman followed out the teens, making sure that Armelle was stout enough to support Eragon from the room.
Armelle tucked her cloak over Eragon and herself as they entered the blustery air.
Thank you, Eragon said quietly.
Armelle nodded slightly. Well, I couldn't let you freeze out here. And I'm feeling selfish enough to keep some of my cloak for myself, so I compromised.
Eragon smiled slightly.
Smoke blew down from chimneys all around Carvahall in the cold wind, and storm clouds made the Spine elusive and concealed the valley while snow advanced toward the foothills.
Eragon leaned a little heavier on Armelle as they made their way through with Gertrude following behind.
They reached Horst's home, and Armelle was in awe of the large house again, not for the first time since she and her father arrived in Carvahall. It was nothing like her tree-like home on the outskirts of Osilon, nor like Brom's cabin, which was meager in comparison to this. Horst had left no stone unturned with his skill in building the best possible home he could. The shake roof shadowed a railed balcony that stretched from a tall window on the second floor. Each water spout was a snarling gargoyle, and every window was framed by carvings of different things from nature—serpents, harts, ravens, and knotted vines.
The door was opened by Horst's wife, Elain, who was small and willowy with refined features and silky blonde hair—lighter than Armelle's striking golden blonde—which was pinned back into a bun. Her dress was neat and her movements were graceful. "Please, come in," she said softly.
Armelle helped Eragon over the threshold and into a well-lit room. She had been inside once before, to check on Garrow for Gertrude, but the splendidness of the interior was still foreign to her in some ways, as she was used to a more nature-esqe appeal like the elves lived in, like she had lived in. A staircase with a polished balustrade curved elegantly down to the floor, and the walls were colored like honey.
Elain gave Eragon a sad smile, but spoke to Gertrude. "I was just about about to send for you. He isn't doing well. You should see him right away."
"Armelle, you'll need to help Eragon up the stairs," Gertrude said before she started up them, hopping two at a time.
"It's okay," Eragon assured, "I can do it myself."
"Are you sure?" Armelle asked.
He nodded.
"Alright," Armelle sounded doubtful, "but I'm going to follow you up to make sure you don't fall."
Eragon made an exasperated face.
"Don't look at me like that," Armelle ordered in a quick tone.
Eragon raised his arms in surrender, smiling slightly.
She rolled her eyes, returning the small expression.
Eragon started up the stairs, and Armelle followed him up, pushing him gently back to a straight position when he began to waver. She opened the door for Eragon and he walked inside, spotting his uncle lying on the bed. His skin was gray and deathly. The wounds all over him seemed to ooze a clear liquid, and they refused to heal. His breathing was ragged and shallow, like his unconscious form was forcing every breath by the strength of the man's will, and his body burned with a fever.
Armelle stepped over to Katrina, taking her place in crushing herbs for a poultice to place on Garrow's wounds. A bucket of ice water with a cloth inside sat by Armelle's feet once she walked over to replace Katrina.
Eragon looked at Gertrude for a moment before turning to Armelle. "Can't she do anything about these?"
Armelle sighed, pausing her crushing of herbs to look at Eragon with soft silver eyes. "Gertrude has tried everything she knows. Salves, poultices, and tinctures, but nothing has worked. If the wounds closed he would stand a better chance. Still, things may turn for the better. He's a tough man."
Eragon sank into the floor after moving to a corner. He stared blankly at the bed. Katrina put her arm around him after a while, but when he didn't react she left.
Armelle looked at him sadly, finishing crushing her herbs before she moved to sit beside the Blue Rider. She didn't speak, just opened herself to him and let her presence comfort him the best it could. She had no words to help him; she had lost her mother when she was a toddler, and she was familiar with the pain of losing family, but she knew it wasn't the same.
Sometime later the door opened, and Horst entered. He slipped over to speak with Gertrude in low tones before he moved over to Eragon and Armelle.
"You need a break," he told both teens to console them, "and fresh air. Don't worry, you can go back soon enough."
Eragon begrudgingly let the smith lead him down the stairs, and Armelle followed them with soft steps that barely made a noise on the steps.
Armelle was surprised to see two young men that she didn't know speaking with Elain. She kept her head down to try and avoid the attention of the men she hadn't yet met.
"Armelle," Elain called softly. "Take a break, child. Come meet my sons, Albriech and Baldor."
Armelle hesitated before walking over to them. She greeted them quietly and made as much small talk as she could stand before there was a knock on Horst's door.
Elain moved from her sons to open the door, and standing in the doorway was Devon, her father.
"Oh, hello, Devon," Elain said in surprise. "Are you here for Armelle?"
"Yes, I am. I would like to speak with her and Eragon if that's alright."
Elain nodded. "Come inside. I'm sure that snow is not pleasant to walk through."
"Thank you, ma'am," her father said politely.
Armelle hurried over to the blonde man, thankful to see her father again, but unsure on what he wanted with Eragon.
She called Eragon over and the three of them moved on to a separate room.
"Alright, I want the truth from both of you," her father started once they were out of anyone's earshot. "What happened?"
Eragon hesitated for a long moment, glancing at Armelle.
"He knows," Armelle said softly. "He guessed it before I got your permission to tell him. Brom told him of all the questions about dragons."
Eragon swallowed hard and nodded slowly before he and Armelle worked together in recounting the tale of what their dragons had done, what they found at Eragon's farm, and how they got Garrow to safety with Gertrude.
Armelle's father didn't speak for a long period of time, only nodding slowly as he processed information. "Go check on your uncle," he told Eragon.
Eragon nodded and moved to waddle back up the stairs.
Her father turned to Armelle. "You know his uncle will not survive."
"I do," Armelle said sadly.
"We must be prepared to leave when it happens. It is too late to separate the two of you, now that you have met. The new generations of Riders has begun, and you are as important as he is."
Armelle didn't speak for a moment. When she did, she wasn't entirely sure what to ask except, "Where are we going?"
"To hunt the Ra'zac, as Eragon will want to."