PART ONE:

Chapter 10: Robberies, Fickles, and Giggles

(A/N): Umm, for the '--ooo--' thingy's, that's the only borderline I could get to work. XD

Disclaimers: ENOUGH with the effing disclaimers. Make me SICK! See other chapters if you really need sufficient proof that I do not own Eragon/Eldest characters or otherwise related material that you KNOW I don't own. Good Grief.

—BEGIN PART ONE—

It was a tedious ride back, to say the least.

Saphira, being the only one not having ingested copious amounts of Mercywort; was constantly hampered by her riders, who had.

Orik was persist in his guffawing, his rough dwarvish 'A-HAW, HAW, HAW!' echoing among the clouds.

Arya's musical trill that would be likened to soft water fall plinking off small stones rang in Saphira's ears—arousing a deep humming noise in her throat interrupted by small bouts of dragonish laughter.

As the tingling, tickling sensation moved up toward their appendix area, Arya and Orik's laughter became increasingly raucous , leaving Orik wheezing and gasping for breath; and making Arya twist and turn around on Saphira—the tickling was so bad.

As the sky started to begin it's phase toward the end of the rainbow, Saphira felt herself becoming wet, and voiced her puzzled thoughts, Tut, tut, it looks like rain.

Arya sending a denial through their link, also showed her a mental picture of beads of moisture glistening down her face.

Then there was the mental picture of Orik.

The dwarf had sneaked some more handfuls before Arya had gotten the canvas sailcloth out and had 'overdosed'.

Since his past 'bout with Mercywort, (which he didn't remember), he had developed a sort of tolerance to the fickle plant, and it only took a little to receive that fetter some, tingling, ticklish feeling.

So, the mental picture Arya sent Saphira was both very detailed and rather humorous.

Two giant slews of water were pouring out of Orik's eyes, as if his tear ducts were connected to two giant fire-hydrants—spouting the tears in a rainbow shaped arc onto Saphira's body.

Arya grinned through her laughter, which wasn't hard to do, and mild tears, and said, "Are you all right, Mr. Dwarf?"

Two bloodshot eyes and streaming nose whipped around, and the mouth spoke, so covered in gloopy snot and tears that Arya wondered how Orik managed at all,

"I'm quite WELL, Arya, thanks."

Arya could barely understand Orik, it sounded like:

"Blib boinb beennaa, waknya, foongs,"

But, she got the gist.

Smiling ever so sweetly, she leaned forward and said, "Got issues—?"

But was interrupted by a joyous Saphira, "—Get TISSUES!"

Which made Arya's sides ache even more, she was laughing so hard.

Then, out of the blue, a slightly delirious, slightly conscious voice mumbled,

"Are we there YET?"

--ooo--ooo--ooo--ooo

"DANG!" the authoress shouted as her cheese dart missed the blob of red Jell-O standing on the table.

Per usual, the sound of feet could be heard on the carpet, the sister's feet, to be exact.

The authoress turned around and yelled, "DANGIT! STUPID THING!" and turned off the Automated Foot Sound Imitator 900.

The authoress grabbed another cheese dart, and threw it at the blob of red Jell-O, missing again.

"Dang!" the author mumbled, and then picked up the box of cheese darts, "maybe blue cheese would work better than cheddar?"

--ooo--ooo--ooo--ooo

Angela and Nasuada raced out onto a patch of clear field full sprint.

Nasuada scanned the ground, "Are they here yet?"

Angela looked at Nasuada and said, "Nasuada."

"Hmm?"

"Dragons don't fly on the ground, they fly in the air."

"Oh, yes," Nasuada, and turned her attention to the skies, blushing slightly.

--ooo--ooo--ooo--ooo

"YES!" shouted the authoress, grabbing up a box of blue cheese darts, "the last ones!"

The authoress raced out of the store, not even bothering to pay in her excitement.

"Should we call the cops, Jerry?" said Flo the counter-attendant.

"I don't know, Flo," said Jerry the janitor.

"She only stole a box of cheese darts—"

"—which no one buys anymore—"

"—and we've got plenty of the useless things in storage—"added Flo.

"—Right! And, they don't sell as well as..." Jerry stared off into space trying to recall what sold better that the cheese darts.

"The pet rocks?" Flo prompted.

"Yeah, you're right!" Jerry exclaimed, "Those pet rocks are a sure neat thing, aren't they, Flo?"

"Dudical," sighed Flo.

"Wanna see mine?" Jerry asked.

"Sure," responded Flo with enthusiasm.

"Here," Jerry pulled out a strangely painted rock with glue on eyes and stapled on yarn hair.

"What's its name?"

"Oh, now, now, Flo, Murtle the Turtle doesn't respond to being called 'it'."

"Ooo!" squealed Flo, completely forgetting her age for a moment.

"Just bought him today from that designer rock store, Oh what's it called?"

Flo's eyes widened, "You don't mean—"

Jerry seemed to recall the name of the store, and said, "I think it was Neiman Rockkus, or was it Rokki? I don't remember. Most likely Neiman Rockkus, they've got the best brands."

While Flo sat there admiring, and Jerry glowing like the proud rock owner he was, the paint, eyes, and hair on Murtle the Turtle fell off, revealing a plain, black, lava rock.

"Oh, "said Jerry.

"My," said Flo.

"GOODNESS!" screamed the authoress, who ran back into the store and saw the 90 percent off discount on cheese darts.

The authoress proceeded to grab every last box of cheese darts in the store, and, (once again), in her excitement, forgot to pay.

Jerry was rather mad at the loss of his cheaply made $20,000 Murtle the Turtle pet rock from Neiman Rockkus, so he called the cops on the authoress.

Right as the authoress reached the door, a SWAT squad surrounded the building, a special force of riot police blocking the authoress from escape.

The authoress lifted an eyebrow, and calmly took out a cheese dart and started snacking on the cheese part of the dart, making sure to avoid the sharp metal dart part of the cheese dart.

"You have a right to remain silent!" commanded a voice on megaphone, coming from a helicopter circling the Get Snax Quik store.

"Ya know what I say?" said the authoress in a bored tone.

"WHAT?" shouted the entire riot/police/SWAT squad, completely disregarding the thing that the megaphone shouted before

The authoress took another bite off of the cheese dart before answering, "You have the right to remain UH-GUH-LY!"

"OOO, DISSSSS..." shouted Jerry and Flo.

At that, the whole riot/police/SWAT squad burst into tears, and the barrier before the authoress melted away as the entire force succumbed to hysterical, racking sobs.

"YOU ARE SO EVIL!" shouted one of the officers as he took out his hanky.

Ahh, the power of the pen is a mighty tool, thought the authoress before walking calmly out of the Get Snax Quik store, and remarking, "And you KNOW IT!"

"Word," remarked Flo and Jerry.

Jerry took out the mop and started to pick up the broken pieces of Murtle the Turtle, and said, "What about them water bottles, eh?"

"I KNOW!" said Flo, "They are SOOO IN!"

"Refreshing," said Jerry.

"Regenerating," said Flo.

"Rejuvinating," said Jerry.

"Re-DUNDANT!" called the authoress before flouncing her way home.

"Man," said the female cop, "why does she ALWAYS have to get the last word?"

"Power to the pen, dude, power to the pen," said the burly SWAT guy.

"Amen," muttered the authoress as she stood in front of the blob of red Jell-O, holding a swiss cheese dart.

--ooo--ooo--ooo--ooo

"THERE THEY ARE!" shrieked Nasuada, her ebony colored finger like a chocolate chip in the cloudy skies.

Saphira appeared to be hampered by some sort of burden, and when Nasuada looked closer, she could see that there was a figure strapped to her belly.

Underneath that, there was curiously large canvas sailcloth strapped to her fore and hind legs.

Roran came rushing out to prepare for the landing, and yelled, "LAND, DANGIT, LAND!"

"They can't'," said Angela, the only calm one in the chaos of happenings.

"BUT WHY?" Roran shouted at Angela.

"Don't shout, dearie, it's bad for your larynx—"

"—WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?"

"It's your voice box—"

"ANGELA—"

"—which promotes sound—"

"—DANGIT, JUST TELL ME—"

"—singing, and all other—"

"—WHAT THE HECK—"

"—thingskindofliketalking," Angela finished.

(Translation: "—things kind of like talking.")

Roran just stared at Angela, and turned away muttering, "Witches. Go figure."

Angela hurried after him saying, "As to your other question—"

"Eh?" Roran said, confused, then he remembered what he had asked before and said, "Oh yes, that."

Angela cleared her throat and said, "Yes, the reason why Saphira can't land is that Eragon is strapped to her belly, and below that is carrying a rather large canvas sailcloth."

"Well, then why don't we just cut the sailcloth?" Roran queried, sounding as if he was merely asking about the weather.

"Hmmm..." Angela looked up again, trying to calculate the distance from the rapidly tiring Saphira and the ground. She lifted her hands up in a box shape, making an angle, much as a photographer would if he was trying to fit people and scenery together in a space as enclosed as a kitchen drawer.

"I don't see why not," Angela said, and ran away from a surprised Roran, toward Nasuada.

"NASUADA!" Angela yelled over the noise of Saphira's wing beats.

"YES?" shouted the leader of the Varden, looking slightly harried and windswept.

"WE NEED TO CUT THE ROPES BINDING THE CANVAS SAILCLOTH TO SAPHIRA SO SHE CAN LAND!"

"Did and done."

"Nasuada, that doesn't make any sense," said Roran, rather exasperated.

"Do and done?"

"Still not making sense."

"How about 'done and done'?" Nasuada compromised.

"Now you're just being redundant."

"WHATEVER."

Nasuada turned to a seven foot tall guard and exchanged a few terse words with him. The seven foot tall guard shook his head.

Impatiently, she turned to one of the massive Kull she used as her bodyguard, and gestured at his sword, then at Saphira. The Kull grunted, and walked a distance of about twenty feet away, then drew its sword.

Hefting if as if it were a twig, the Kull grunted again and beckoned to a taller comrade.

They exchanged a few muttered grunts, and the comrade gave the Kull an axe.

Weighing it from hand to hand, the Kull grunted again and gripped the axe firmly.

He gathered himself into a stance that would be likened to one about to throw a discus, and hurled the axe at the rope binding the canvas sail cloth to Saphira's fore and hind legs.

With a ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZING! and a whistle, the axe chopped a clean cut through the massive rope, and as if bound on an invisible course, boomeranged straight back at the Kull that had thrown it.

The Kull extended his arm and caught the axe by its handle, and gave a mighty victory roar.

The comrade that had let the Kull borrow the axe went over to the Kull, took back its axe, and exchanged a few silver coins with the Kull that had thrown the axe.

Apparently, the group that went to Dramur Wyrda was a source of a bet among the brutish war-loving Kull.

--ooo--ooo--ooo--ooo

A support group compromised mainly of humans and Kull caught the canvas sailcloth and brought it over to Angela, who looked mildly surprised, confused, wary and satisfied.

"Only a witch like Angela could give a look like that," grunted the Kull.

"Which witch?" grunted the comrade.

The pair continued to give each other confused looks, then shrugged and went about their businesses.

--ooo--ooo--ooo--ooo

Roran turned to Nasuada and said, "Can they land, NOW?"

"No."

"How 'bout NOW."

"Not yet."

"..."

"HOW ABOUT NOW?"

"No."

"NOW?"

"NO, DANGIT!" Nasuada finally lost her temper and turned on Roran, her dark skinned face turning purple.

Roran tapped his foot.

Angela yawned.

Nasuada chewed on her nails.

Angela yawned.

The dwarves took another sip of beer.

Angela yawned.

"ANGELA!" Roran barked.

"Hmm?"

"STOP YAWNING, DANGIT!"

"Actually, yawning is the—"

"I DON'T GIVE—"

"--healthy way of saying—"

"—A CARE ABOUT—"

"--'there is a lack of oxygen supply—"

"—WILL YOU JUST—"

"--to my brain right now'—"

"—SHUDDAP!—"

"—without shouting it." Angela finished and turned her attention to Saphira again.

Roran glared at Angela, before turning away and muttering, "Fickle witch."

"Yes I am," came the reply.

Roran paused, then, "How about now?"

"NO!" came the reply from the entire host of Urgals, Kull, dwarves and Varden.

"Jeez!" Roran said, turning scarlet.

--ooo--ooo--ooo--ooo

"SAPHIRA—hee, hee—WE NEED TO LAND—ho, ho, ho," Orik managed to gasp out before succumbing to another fit of the giggles.

All right, said Saphira, and she dropped out of the sky...

—END PART ONE—

(A/N): All right...Hate it? Review. Love it? Review! Comments/Suggestions/or otherwise related somethingafinks? REVIEW ALREADY!