The Fallen Are The Virtuous

Chapter One: Let's Fade Together

Rating: T, Mild Language

Summary: Oh, the fallen are the virtuous, 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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Jarn turned a deathly shade of pale, then green, the flushed red all at once. "Delois... By Galbatorix's will, what did you do?"

Delois felt a the sob that escaped his mouth rattle his ribs. Men didn't cry- But men didn't have dragons. But did Riders cry...?

"I touched it, Jarn! I swear, I swear..." He then repeated his words in forced words of the ancient language. The other man seemed to teeter to one side, as if he might just fall right over. "Delois, you need to go... Stuff that beast into your knapsack, and come with me."

He stared hard at the dragon- And it skittered into his knapsack with no complaint, but watching the dragon, he suddenly felt something press against his mind, like a cat rubbing against his leg- Encouraging warmth. But then it was gone, replaced with a nothingness so quickly it startled his already fragile mind.

"Y-yes... Let's go..."

The two walked down the hallway, passing everyone by easily. All knew by the broaches that held their cloaks showed their high position, and nobody dare hinder their movement in fear of consequences given by Galbatorix himself. By the time they were nearly there, Delois realized they were heading towards the main kitchen.

The first person he saw was Agnes- A plump, broad-shouldered woman with ruddy features and bright eyes, she was barking orders to the younger cooks and apprentices, making the whole place seem very much like a boot camp as everyone ran to and fro, carrying wood, taking meat from the rack house, getting water to boil. She turned towards them, ready to scold a cook who had spilt some kind of sauce, but they had caught her eyes first, and she lit up immediately.

"Delois! How are you, my lion?" She asked, pushing her way through the hubbub that was her kitchen and ushering them both out into the hallway. Placing a peck on his cheek that made him feel warm and giddy, she drew back from them both, scrutinizing with calculation. "Isn't this odd for you two, to visit me at the same time... Was lunch not fit for you noble guards? I did try my best-"

"No, love, my Agnes, it was wonderful." Delois had meant the words to come out in a placating, calm tone, but then rushed from his mouth in a half-sob. Her eyes showing her bewilderment, she clasped his hands in her own. "What's wrong...?"

"He opened an egg, Agnes, you stupid-" Jarn stopped his snapping comment in full throttle, swallowing thickly before continuing more calmly, "He touched an egg, and a dragon came out. The one that's supposedly retarded."

Delois felt something equivalent to protest scratch at his mind, but like a hand batting at a fly, it was pushed aside at the same time Agnes clutched at her heart, looking as if she was to fall over in a heap on the stone masonry below. "You two... Must need food, right?"

"Only for one, Agnes." Jarn said dryly. She nodded quickly bolting into the kitchen. Delois crumpled to the ground, nursing his head in his hands as he closed his eyes. He could feel the heat of the dragon's body pressed against his back, it's maw nudging against the fabric that was closest against his back and try to bite into it, the little fangs scraping over but thankfully not puncturing.

The Head Cook finally came out after what felt like ages, clutching a large bundle to her bosom. "This should suffice for a month, Delois... Dried meats, bread, some dried fruit; I even was able to nab a few pickled cucumbers, I know how you love those, and sweetmeats..." Her voice was wavering as she said the words, and by the end, a tear had rolled down her reddened cheek.

Delois stood, kissing her cheek. "Agnes... We could... We could go. We could fade together." The words were so hopeful, but even he knew they were filled with promises of hardship and the remembrance of his own stupidity. Something- What, by now, he had concluded as the dragon, had different opinions, thoughts of happiness at the prospect of having someone come with them.

"I can't. You... You know that." She whispered, and another tear ran down her face, the water leaving a wet line down her face. He brushed it away, before kissing her once more, upon the lips. They were not married; They weren't even engaged, and this was preposterous, but..

"Jarn, for me- As that favor- Make sure Agnes is taken care of. I'll come back soon, you two." He managed a force smile. "It wont be long. Just an overgrown lizard, right?"

He let out a cry as the fang broke through the knapsack, somehow going through the defenses Galbatorix had put around his body and puncturing the skin. The dragon quickly removed itself from the wound, licking it in a placating tone.

Delois left, with food and dragon in his knapsack, the clothes on his back, a pike as a walking stick, and a scimitar strapped to his side.

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Sweat beaded on Jarn's forehead. He swallowed nervously, his adam's apple bobbing wildly. "I h-have no idea what you're talking about. Delois just ran off, that... Damn dirty coward, right with the egg!" The last part was a true snarl. Jarn was hateful at him. For putting them all in damn danger for a stupid dragon that was supposedly a still birth in the egg. Why hadn't Delois himself killed the little beast?

Why hadn't he?

It was a thought he gave little more attention to as Galbatorix walked towards him, slowly, his eyes burning into the other. Galbatorix stalked towards the smaller man- A beast cornering a deer, the much more powerful and intimidating man smirking as Jarn quickly fell to his knees, bowing his head.

"Have mercy, mighty King Galbatorix." He sobbed, his body shaking. Stupid- So stupid, he should have killed the dragon, killed Delois-

"Oh, I will, you stupid, stupid guard." He said smoothly. His voice was deep- One would say any woman's dream, but it held an air of falsity, as if only the immense amount of magic that he controlled kept him young, and beautiful in a haunting, perverse way. "I take pity on those that can be of use- And you will be great of great use. Stand." Jarn stood, clenching and unclenching his hands in an attempt to stop the shaking that was coursing through his body.

He was so fervently thanking all the gods of any existence that he didn't notice Galbatorix was mumbling in the ancient language.

Jarn look up in time to see a large shadow with a haunting face smother him in blackness.

Lorne flexed his fingers, watching as the color of his skin took on spidery patterns of white over his dark-skinned arms. He smiled, pleased at how well the transformation was going. He had heard most of the spirits never usually got the look that pleased him, but Galbatorix had chose well. He sneezed as his nose flexed itself to a longer, more-hawk like look of Jarn's broad one; Eyes watered as they turned to a startling white.

He chuckled absentmindedly as all the hair that was atop his head fell right out, regrowing into the black, greasy strands that was Lorne's. It was so nice, finally moving from a not-quite-there ethereal body to a body made of substance.

"Dear Galbatorix," Lorne bowed gracefully, straightening as he looked the King in the eye. One of the only people in the world who would smile in amusement at a shade. "Lorne at your service."

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PLOT TWIST! -evil cackle- Merf, I'm done now. Please R&R, and while you're at it, read my other stories. Toodles.