I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.
Edited 1/30/22
Please let me know your thoughts throughout the story, I'd love to hear for you :)
Enjoy,
Chances
That next day Rose stood over the cooking pot and swore.
Looking down at the rumbling water, she was hit again with a nauseating wave disbelief- where had her sense gone to? Forgetting about her sword in a time of need was one thing, mind that it was a very thoughtless and dangerous thing, but to forget that she was boiling water was almost as foolhardy. Perhaps if it had been another time, when things were not as precarious her actions would not weigh on her so. What time was needed would now be wasted trying to pull the pot from the coals.
That is not going to work, Thorn said when she took out her sword.
She turned and narrowed her eyes at him. Do you have a better idea?
The dragon swung his tail and puffed himself up, looking rather smug. I do not, he said in humored voice.
"Useless dragon," she muttered as she slid the blade between the pot and its handle, and tried with all her might to pull it out. She huffed as the pot moved perhaps a little, and then her blade lost its holding and came towards arcing towards her at an alarming rate. With a shriek she leapt back, dropping the sword to the ground and cursed again, much to Thorn's amusement.
Rose swung around to look at him, when his grumbling laugh did not stop. You could help me you know, she said sharply.
Thorn merely whacked his tail against the ground, his laugher continuing. There are problems that are worth solving on your own, he told her, if only to humor those around you.
Dropping her head, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning back to the pot. She looked about the camp site for a moment before looking stubbornly at Thorn. There had to be some way to move that pot, but the problem was the how.
She didn't dare kick it out of the coals, she could only see that ending with bruised toes, and she had already looked for the bowls but they were nowhere to be seen, and she knew that propping the pot with her sword would be not good either. The pot was too heavy.
For a long while she bite her lip as she thought about the problem, and then narrowed her eyes at the dragon. Sighing she walked up to the pile of bags near Thorn's rear, dodging his thumping tail. She looked through Eragon's bags, which was hard as many of his things were simply shoved into the sacks, until she found what she was searching for.
For quite some time she considered the carefully wrapped sword before slowly picking it out of Eragon's bags. The silver wrap around its handle felt cold and strange in her hand and she fought the urge to drop it. It was an extravagant blade with a large egg sized ruby, etched designs- she was surprised that these were symbols and not terrible scenes of death- and a gleaming, very beautiful garnet colored blade. The sword's sheath was as ornate as the blade it held, with a dropped silver border and smaller gems that lined it.
Rose slowly brought Zar'roc out of its casing and wondered for a moment what 'Zar'roc' meant. After a moment she smirked thinking that it could very well mean 'Death Blade,' or 'Gutripper' these sounded very accurate in her option. She didn't understand the necessity of naming a sword herself but she remembered once hearing Tornac say it was an honor to the blade, that things of such honor should have a name to honor it by, and yet she could never think of a proper name for her own bladeā¦
With a frown she turned away and began to walk back to the fire. She briefly wondered if Tornac had named her blade and scoffed; he probably had and never told her. Looking at the pot for a moment, she wondered if it was really about the honor of the blade or the feelings it brought the person who held it. Perhaps it was like naming a horse, it made the creature something important, something that was easier to call it by other than just 'horse' or in this case 'sword'.
Rose shook herself slightly and turned her attention back to the pot. If Tornac were here to witness her doing as she was she'd never hear the end of the dishonor she was doing to these swords. Her sword perhaps more so but anything her father once held could have no less honor.
With this in mind, she placed both of the swords back in their scabbards and moved until she was standing over the pot and carefully slid her sword under the handle, and then lifting it up, she used Zar'roc to slid through the other end. She slid the swords as far as she dared and carefully pulled the pot from its place by the fire. The pot caught on a stone and tipped over, spilling the boiled water across the grass. She stared for a moment at the now almost empty pot before tossing Zar'roc to ground beside the spilled water, it slid out if casing but she would deal with that later. She buckled her own sword onto her belt, and cursing her luck walked to the stream.
Thorn again made a throaty sound that meant he was laughing. I told you, he said.
Rose merely looked at him before bending down and tipped the waterskin into the cool water. Once it was full she stood up and returned to where Thorn was resting. Do you know when Saphira going to return, or did she not say? she asked.
She did not say, said Thorn.
Rose nodded and set about rolling the hot pot to the riverside by kicking it with her feet, hoping to cool it faster. Once there she pulled the cord she had tied her hair back with and lopped it around the handle. Holding both ends of the thick cord, she dipped the pot into the water where it hissed violently and randomly bobbed about. She sat down and watched it.
Saphira had left to go hunting the moment she realized that it would be some time before Rose could pack up and leave. She had sent some time before that hissing at the air and fluttering anxiously about. It was a guilty relief to have her gone. Though Rose had been worried that the dragon might fly off and try to save Eragon on her own, Thorn reassured her that while Saphira would do anything to save Eragon, she at least was being reasonable about it.
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she fished the pot out of the water and lightly touched its surface, ready to pull back should it still be far too hot. It was not. The metal was warm though not scolding as it had been. Satisfied with it, she untangled the soaking cord and then tenderly picked up the pot.
Not long after she returned to bags to finish with the packing, Saphira returned, landing with a rebounding thud that made Rose's heart leap into her throat. She swirled around, feeling rather breathless and jittery, and looked at Saphira. The blue dragon caught her eye and with a snort she nudged something with her snout. Then she rose to her full height, leaving Rose feeling suddenly very small, and blinked at her.
"I had forgotten that I had left that here," Rose said softly when she realized what Saphira was getting at. She frowned and tilted her head at the dragon as she moved to pick up Zar'roc from where she had left it. "It's nearly noon, surely, hunting could not have taken you so long."
Saphira's blazing conscience touched her own as she lowered her head to Rose's level, fully taking her in. I was not out hunting, she said, but at Gil'ead.
Rose felt her face drain of blood, and felt as if that blood continued to sink into the ground beneath her. She shifted from foot-to-foot, not quite certain of what to say, her mind blank of thought. "Why?" she asked at last, her voice hardly louder than a whisper.
You and Thorn were otherwise occupied, she said, and I could not sit and wait any longer. I had to see if could make contact with Eragon.
"And did you?" Rose asked, running her fingers over Zar'roc's handle. "Make contact with Eragon, I mean?"
Saphira blinked slowly, and said, No. I flew for some time thinking that maybe it was too early for him to be awake, but even as the day wore on I felt nothing of him. I'm worried. She was silent for a moment and then her chest puffed out and opened her eyes fully. I saw many other things though, things that might interest you.
Which would be what? said Thorn in mild interest as he joined the conversation.
Rose turned to him as he looked over from the stony riverbed where he had taken to relaxing not long ago. A tingle of curiosity from him drifted through her as he began to swish his tail in the water, his head hovering just over the rocks. He snorted and shook himself.
Those two-leggeds are controlling the passage on the roads, said Saphira. No one can go in or out of the city without their permission. Even more two-leggeds are traveling through the woods searching.
"They are looking for us," said Rose. She knew that at some point the soldiers would get together and start a search for the dragons and herself, but hearing that they were was completely different matter.
Most likely, said Thorn unbothered the news. Saphira and I are faster than those silly beasts they ride, you'd do yourself some good by remembering that.
Rose nodded, some of her fears calming, and waited for Saphira to continue. When she did not, Rose asked, "Did you happen to see whether or not they were headed our way?"
They have, Saphira told her, but they are far off yet.
Biting her lip, Rose turned to Thorn though he made no move that he had heard what had been said. "It may be best for us to go," she muttered, "before those soldiers reach us."
There was a sort of silent agreement from both of the dragons, and Rose soon found herself and the dragons equipped to fly.
Her stomach twisted and turned in on itself as if it were a coiling snake. She wished quite suddenly that she hadn't of eaten that biscuit earlier that morning, thinking that perhaps she would ill. Her unease continued long after Thorn took flight, and she took to watching the back of his head, watching how the pale golden light glistened off of his scales in tiny glaring fragments, as she tried to calm herself.
They had no real plan, nothing to insure that the risks they were about to take would be not be any more damaging than the previous. All that they had truly decided on was that they were going to fly around Gil'ead, and for what? Rose was not all to certain. Perhaps they would see some sort of hint that Eragon was still there, or maybe one of the dragons or herself might just think of something of real use. If fate was with them they would see something of use and be able to use that knowledge.
Rose did not know what they could do, short of braking into Gil'ead's prison and searching for Eragon theirselves. This was in her mind an outlandish idea, a laughable one even, but it was the only thing she could think of.
You're being ridiculous, Thorn told her.
Am I? she said testily. At least I'm trying to think of something, and though I would ask you for your option I have a feeling you would rather just enjoy yourself as you watched me struggle.
Thorn was silent for a moment, his wings beating against the air like muted thunder. I take that back, he said. You are being ridiculous and touchy.
With a huff Rose turned away from him, and looked instead at the ground. Her stomach resumed its sickening twisting after a few moments of watching the green tops of tree far below, and she was forced to look away.
Thorn remained silent but she could feel his awareness prickling against her own, silently gaging her thoughts and emotions. After a time he spoke, I meant you no insult earlier.
Rose didn't look at him but kept her eyes on the pale apex of the horizon, her jaw set. She didn't wish to speak to him at that moment, she knew that if she did she would forgive him, and she did not wish to forgive him yet.
Long after her annoyance passed, when she could see the rising tower of Gil'ead coming close, she sighed and looked at again the smallest spine at the base of his skull. She studying it for a moment and then sighed again. I know, she said finally.
The loud sound of pulsing wings stopped as Thorn gliding on a draft of wind, his head winding down to the ground, and then he pumped his wings and brought himself higher. Look down, he said.
When she did, she gasped and looked round below them. There are so many of them, she said watching the tiny figures of teeming soldiers scout the woodland paths. They had smaller creatures with them- hounds, perhaps. They look like ants.
Thorn grumbled deeply from within his chest in agreement. With so many of them out here, it means that there are less to guard the city.
Rose nodded, and then turned in the saddle with a gasp. Dormand.
Thorn huffed and swung his head around to look at her with one large, gleaming eye. I have told you, he said wearily, as if he were telling a child for the countless time not to do something. It was not him, he did not smell like fear until after he saw both Saphira and myself.
I know, Rose snapped, what you told me. I was not thinking about that, I was thinking that if they get Dormnad that they might force information from him.
I'm not worried about what he might say about us, Thorn told her. There were enough eyes that saw us to have reported to someone of higher rank be now.
Rose closed her eyes, and bit back a resort. I know, Thorn, believe me, I know. That's not I'm worried about, she said. If he is caught, providing he hasn't been already, they might extract information only he knows, about the Varden's whereabouts. I'd rather they didn't know where we plan to go, and Dormnad knows this information because we told him.
Are you not worried about his wellbeing at all?
Why would I be? she said, looking at him blandly. After the way he treated us, I would rather forget him all together but so far my thoughtlessness has caused nothing except trouble. She looked down at her hands. I would rather that we did not take any more unnecessary risks.
Thorn's head swayed and he grumbled. Thinking about going after that two-legged is a risk within itself.
Which risk is worse? she said sharply. The one where we allow a vast amount of information running about or the one where we contain that information and try to protect it?
For a moment Thorn was silent, and then he said, Or perhaps it would much more simple to end the stream to that information.
Rose frowned, not quite certain what to say to that. If that stream was a direct threat and had he betray our trust, perhaps, she said after a moment. So far, however, the only crime Dormnad has committed is being a coward, and that is not reason enough.
As they drew closer to Gil'ead, Thorn remained silent. She could felt him thinking silently to himself and left him alone, returning to gazing mindlessly at the marching soldiers below. The closer they got to the city, the more crowded the paths became, some were even gated off with soldiers monitoring the in and out go of civilians.
Saphira says that she will search for him, Thorn said. She has seen enough of Gil'ead for the day, and will find us in the evening.
Rose started and turned to Thorn with a gasp. Those soldiers will see her, and if they attack-
Then she will fly away, Thorn interrupted calmly. Do not underestimate what we dragons can do.
I am not- Rose shook her head, cutting herself off. It's really dangerous, Thorn. I don't think it's a good idea for us to separate. If she's attacked, we cannot help her.
I know, he said, but she wishes to do this. This way perhaps we can scout the city a little more and she can find Dormnad. If she doesn't we have plans to meet up.
In the evening, she said feeling sicker than before. Evening is hours away. A lot could happen in those hours.
Thorn was silent for a time, both of them watching Saphira as she fly in a different direction. Do you trust me? he asked.
Startled, she looked away from Saphira's retreating form. Of course, she said automatically.
Then try not doubt me, he said, and I will try not to doubt you.
Rose bit her lip, and looked down at the many dots that were soldiers. There were so many of them, simply milling about, for something not to happen. There was too much for her to doubt, too much that could go wrong.
If Saphira was injured or taken, they would not know until it was too late. No matter what Thorn's plan was, whatever it was that he might have concocted with Saphira, she was uncertain it would work. The soldier's fear of a dragon could cause them to do anything, it could cause them to remain hidden or take action that might mean disaster for either side.
Saphira leaving into that, that complete uncertainty, was perhaps much more senseless than Rose forgetting about her sword.
Rose continued to watch the crowds, continued to think of all the uncertainties, until she said at last, It is not you I doubt.
