The Fallen Are The Virtous
Prolouge
Rating: K
Summary: Oh, the fallen are the virtous, and this is where Delois, a guard for Galbatorix, finds himself as he flees from both the Varden and the Empire with an unwanted dragon by his side.
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I never meant to do that. It wasn't supposed too. I mean, who would work their way up through the army, to become a very much bound by oath Keeper of the Eggs, just to have it crack open when you touch it because it needed to be cleaned?
I never should have touched that egg. I should have ordered one of the damn servants too, because now I'm royally screwed. Past screwed. I just flushed my life down the toilet for touching a damn egg. Stupid dragons. God, I fucking hate dragons- Dragons, Galbatorix, and Eragon Shadeslayer. Because now, everyone's after me. I'm supposed to be on a side, I have to be black or white- There's no grey in war. It's either you're with them or you're with the other, and then still you're going to get a knife in your back.
I don't want them to go after me, and kill me, and hurt me. But I know I can't leave him here, so young and fragile. There's something wrong, I can tell, but I don't know if dragons speak or not and I'm just so confused.
I'm not naming him. No. I think it's a him, at least, but I wont, because if you name something, you own it.
I want nothing to do with it- All I want is to go back to my life as a well-fed keeper of stupid eggs that shouldn't hatch when someone as normal as me touches them.
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The dragon snuffled the ground, pressing his pointed snout against damp leaves. More feminine then what one would reckon a normal male dragon to be, he also held a pronounced serpentine look- The head was narrow and sleek, with a much less-pronounced brow then Murtagh's own dragon.
He raised his black head, a puff of dark smoke wafting from his slit-like nostrils as he started to walk towards the clearing his master was, tending the fire in the silence of a thinking man.
As still a young dragon, he was no more then at the other's shoulder, which was tall considering his young age.
The dragon snorted as to alert the other of his presence- The man merely tensed slightly as he curled up next to him, moving his head under a hand as to prompt the other for at least a quick scratch. With a weak smile, the other complied, stroking the dragon along the snout, gaining a throaty purr from the over-sized lizard.
"I told you," The man spoke softly, his voice sounding as if he had rubbed the throat raw with sandpaper. "Eitha, do you not understand? I have a limited vocabulary of the language but- As a dragon, are you not supposed to be wise in such things?"
The smokey grey eyes looked up at his own brown, and he wilted under the puppy-like stare. "You're big enough to go out on your own... Can't you talk?" The sudden question took the dragon by what seemed like surprise by the look it gave. He then gave an indignant snort, pushing his snout against the human with such force he fell over.
"I take that as a no... Except..."
"Delois..."
"Yes, you can say my name. I still want you too go- Eitha!" He removed the hand that was petting the dragon, taking a stick from the pile of kindling beside him and threw it into the dwindling fire. It gave a half-hearted pop.
The dragon gave what could only be called a sigh, standing and stretching before padding over to the bottom of a tree, moving a pile of leaves into a pile that grew into a makeshift bed. He plopped down, letting out a snort as he watched Delois poke the fire dully.
"Moving such a short distance away does not count, dragon, for leaving." He said, somewhat bitterly, looking up at the other. But he was already fast asleep. Delois sighed, rubbing his goatee thoughtfully before standing and walking over to his dragon- No, not his. Not yet his, and it never should be- laying against the other's flank.
The dragon stirred slightly as the other's blonde hair tickled his belly, but fell asleep just as quickly as the disturbance moved. Rider and dragon soon fell asleep.