Disclaimer: I don't own IC, it is the property of Uncle Paolini.

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"King Hrothgar," Eragon greeted, lowering his head to show his respect, but not bowing at his waist. After all, there was a difference between respect and subservience. While the previous him might not have been so bold, nearly turning into a shade, then massacring scores of soldiers, and then turning hundreds of Urgals to ashes had a way of giving you confidence a few things could give. Moreover, he was the leader of the Dragon Riders, even though he was the last one. "Saphira and I thank you for the hospitality your nation has shown us."

"Eragon." Hrothgar spoke, slamming the shaft of his warhammer on the rocky floor, his strong voice echoing in the underground cavern, "A strong name. Your father must have known the history, the legend behind it to have named you so."

After scrutinizing him for a few more moments, the dwarf king turned his eyes towards Saphira, her own blue eyes staring at him unblinkingly. "Long has it been since a dragon roamed beneath the stone of Farthen Dûr, the last being the Great Umaroth himself. It is an honor to finally meet you, Dragon."

'Likewise, King Hrothgar,' Saphira said back, lightly touching the monarch's mind with her own, 'But you did not ask for our presence to comment upon Eragon's name and my existence.'

"You are as blunt and clever as the tales of your ancestors and predecessors speak," Hrothgar chuckled, slapping his knee as his eyes squinted at the azure dragoness, "'Tis the truth. While I very much wanted to meet the human and the dragon who had traversed half of the continent to Farthen Dûr's gates, I did have another reason for doing so."

After a pause, Hrothgar looked Eragon in the eye, his fingers moving over the hammer and stars of the Ingietum, "I was unable to meet you earlier yesterday…some dwarves within my clan and others had a problem with giving shelter to you. It took much talk and work from me to assuage their fears and bring peace to my subjects."

'He attempts to make us feel indebted to him,' Eragon whispered to Saphira, even as he lowered his head towards the white-bearded King, "We apologize for any trouble our presence has caused to you, King Hrothgar, it was not our intention to cause you any problems."

Hrothgar simply nodded in response and pointed towards the numerous statues of the past kings, "One-and-Forty they are, my predecessors, with the very first being mine own ancestor Korgan…and I shall the forty-second when my hírna is placed there. We are the bones of the land, young Rider, older than both the fair elves and the savage dragons. I am old even by my race's standards Rider, having seen Vrael's Ascension as the leader of the Riders, and his downfall too…"

'He aims to make us feel awed by him, to make himself appear akin to an infallible, wise old leader' Saphira snorted in his mind, her words making him hum in agreement as he mentally nodded back at her. 'Savage Dragons, Hmph! He speaks as if dwarves have never hunted an animal for food.'

"Moreover, I remember the world as it was before Galabtorix began his treacherous genocide, and the accursed Empire came into being," Hrothgar spat the words out, "Therefore, I must ask you, Eragon Son of None….what is your purpose in Farthen Dûr?"

"Defeat the Urgals that have come for your nation and the Varden," Eragon replied promptly, his words spoken without hesitation as he stared at the Dwarf King, "and then travel to the Elven Kingdom to complete my training as a Shur'tugal."

Hrothgar frowned at that, his hand gripping his warhammer tightly, "How do you know that those blasted Urgals are here for us? As I see it, those beasts followed you nad your Dragon, which inadvertently led them right to our gates."

"There are thousands of Urgals and Kulls in the Beors at this very moment," Eragon answered," and while I am not experienced in military matters in any way…but thousands aren't needed to capture an errant Rider whose Dragons cannot spew fire, a human and a paralyzed Elf."

"And yet, they followed you to the Kóstha-mérna every step of the way."

"Not every step of the way, no," he shook his head, "They caught up with us while we were shouting at your sentries to open the gates to the mountain. The Urgals already knew which valleys to pass through adn which turns to take. We weren't in their view, but they were still able to follow us through the maze of passes and hills, They already knew about the Kóstha-mérna entrance."

Silence descended in the throne room after those words, both of them, Rider and King staring at each other before Hrothgar snarled, "Traitors. There are traitors in this mountain, feeding the Black King information about the activities of the Varden and the Dwarven Kingdom! It all makes sense now, the disappearing ships by Surda, the way Ajihad's spies have gone silent, the way Arya and her comrades were attacked…and now this."

Taking in a deep breath to calm his anger, Hrothgar turned towards Eragon, before his eyes dripped down to the two blades at his hips. "I see you have decided to carry the Butcher's blade with you…bold, many will not like the new Rider walking around with Morzan's blade," he paused for a moment, his eyes turning to his own throne," Tell me rider, do you why the seat of the King of Dwarven nation is so flat, devoid of any cushions…and not even an arm to rest my hands upon?"

"Because this was the way it was first made?"

"Nay," Hrothgar chuckled, "it is because these angles, and the lack of an armrest prevent me from getting lazy and fat upon this throne. I have the visages of my predecessors and this uncomfortable seat to remind me of my duties, what is there to remind you of yours, Eragon? If you defeat Galbatorix and slay his dragon, will you sit upon the throne in Urû'baen and crown yourself the next king of Alagaësia?"

"No," Eragon shook his head," Even if there are no worthy claimants to the throne of the Broddring Empire, I will not assume the Kingship myself. I am a Dragon Rider first, adn a Dragon Rider I shall be until the end of my days. I will kill Galbatorix, and then I will raise the Dragon RIders back from the ashes, stronger and better than ever before."

Hrothgar chuckled slowly, "The time of the Riders has passed, Eragon. They will never rise again—not even if the other eggs were to hatch. Galbatorix's fabrications and the superstition of the human race itself have turned the populace against the Order. They don't understand magic, and they don't like anyone living agelessly…something which the Order and the Elves share."

Saphira bristled slightly, the bare beginnings of a growl starting in her throat as Hrothgar derided them once again, while Arya on the other hand frowned. She knew what Hrothgar was doing, making Eragon and Saphira doubt themselves and their aims, and deciding it to be enough reason, she reached out with her mind towards Eragon…only for him t begin speaking right before she could say anything.

"The Varden and Dwarves had lost hope on Saphira hatching, yet she hatched for me," he said, his voice firm and unwavering as his purple eyes started into Hrothgar's black ones, "You and Ajihad had lost hope on Arya once she got captured by Durza, yet I found her location andrescued her. No one ever came out from Durza's clutches, until I butchered Gil'ead's entire regiment to the last one, adn Saphira bit the Shade into two. You don't believe the Dragon Riders will soar the skies again…yet We know that nothing is going to stop that from happening."

Arya's almost slapped Eragon upside the head for the clear insult in his words and tone, but instead of that, she opted to apologize for Eragon's misconduct. Turning towards Hrothgar after she successfully managed to contain her urge to murder the Rider, Arya's voice died in her throat as Hrothgar raised a palm towards her.

"You are bold, Eragon, bolder than perhaps any human I have ever met," he said, his voice rumbling like boulders striking against each other, "You have a long road ahead of you Eragon, before you can even think of rekindling the fire that was once the Order of Dragon Riders. Know this, however, we Dwarves value actions more than any words and promises you can make. Prove the iron in your bones and the strength of your arms, and it will make you much more respected in my realm than any agreement between us ever could."

"I will keep your advice in mind then," Eragon bowed his head, "Once again thank you for sheltering us."

"You may go then," he nodded, slamming his warhammer's butt on the ground, "Send in Orik after you when you depart. I need to have some words with my nephew."

"What was that?" Arya slowly enunciated each word once they were quite a distance from the throne room, "Do you have any idea of how rude your words could have been taken as had Hrothgar been a little quicker to anger? You were challenging him Eragon, at every turn of the talks you were challenging his authority, and even that of Ajihad!"

"He was getting on my nerves," he muttered in response, and Saphira rumbled next to them, making the elf look at them with bewilderment. Seeing her confusion, he elaborated, "He was trying to make us look at him as he was some larger-than-life, wise all-knowing figure while casting each of our aims and ideals into doubts."

'I didn't like it.' the she-dragon chimed in, 'Especially that bit where he called Dragons savage, all because we were the predators instead of prey.'

"You fool!" Arya whispered, her eyes narrowed at him, "Of course he was doing that. That is what every faction leader in this Alliance is going to do with you. You are a Dragon Rider, that alone has made you the most important piece in this land, but with the fact that you burned hundreds right outside this mountain and equaled an elf in combat…everyone wants you to swear fealty to them instead of just receiving your silent support."

"Even your Queen?"

"Even my Queen," she nodded, "You were rash in there Eragon. And it was allowed by Hrothgar because that is how the Dwarves are. But if you try that same attitude, that same insolence with Queen Islanzadi or even with Ajihad and King Orrin, you will not make any allies out of them."

"Ugh…Garrow always said politics was nothing but a knife dipped in butter," he grimaced, before his face brightened up, "What do you say to another bout in the training grounds?"

"I can't," Arya shook her head, "I need to go have a meeting with Ajihad. It has been delayed long enough as it is."

"Uh, see you later then?"

"Possibly" she nodded, turning around and walking away. He stood there in his spot for as long as his eyes could see her diminishing figure, right until Saphira smacked his back with her heavy tail and woke him out of his thoughts.

'You find her pleasing to your eyes,' she accused, laughing at him mentally as well as p[hysically, her sapphire eyes glittering with mirth, 'Poor Eragon, falls for an Elf after she scolds him. Are you a masochist by any chance?'

'How do you even know that word?!' Eragon gasped, turning around and running away from the smirking lizard, 'and I have not fallen for Arya! Definitely not! I have talked with her for less than six hours in total for fucks sake!'

'Yes, that is why you were staring at her back harder than I stare at a deer I want to devour,' she countered, jumping through the air and landing in front of him, her teeth bared in a smile, 'I have seen every bit of your memories Eragon. I remember how…infatuated you were with that Sabrina girl back in Carvahall. Months before I hatched for you. Your…thoughts about Arya are certainly much more intense than about that girl.'

For the first time ever since Saphira had first spoken to him…Eragon wished that he could block the connection between them like Saphira could do. Ignoring the whispers of the clearly mad dragoness in his mind, Eragon walked through the streets of Farthen Dûr, intent on collecting the armor he had commissioned before they set off to meet Hrothgar.

Midway to the forges, however, an old woman stumbled into his path, and early fell flat on her face had Eragon's reflexes not kicked in. Grabbing her shoulders gently, he pulled her straight, taking in the wrinkled face, the nearly blind grey eyes, adn the burning fierceness within them. In her hand she held a bundle, one whose content Eragon could easily discern by the slight shuffling the little mews the babe was making, its chubby hands reaching for the silvery-grey hair of her grandmother.

"Bless the child Argetlam," she cried out, his frail fingers feeling like steel manacles on his arms as he showed him the child's face, "She is alone in this world, her parents long gone, and even I grow weaker each day. Soon she shall be alone in this cruel, unforgiving land. Bless her Rider, Bless her for luck, Bless her for a long, beautiful life free of any torment and sadness!"

Before he could even understand the heads or tails of the woman's words, the whole market around him seemed to start a chant of "Bless Her!", their feet thumping the ground and their voices so loud that Eragon winced for a moment. Taking in the excitement of the dwarves ad humans alike, and the hope on the old woman's face, his purple eyes widened a little as he was suddenly put on the spot.

"I-uh…" he fumbled, his mind screaming at Saphira to do anything, but like him, his partner was swept by the crowd, their clamors and shouts making her squirm. But suddenly, Eragon steeled his expression and extended his arms towards the squirming girl, and the crowd went silent.

'Little one…are you?'

'Yes'

Bringing the now wide awake girl close to his chest, Eragon smiled as he saw her toothless smile and wide, blue-green eyes peeking up at him. "What is her name?" he asked, lightly touching the cheek with his finger, making the girl babble as she tried to catch his finger with her fist.

"Elva, M'lord…she is three months old." her grandmother murmured, taking a step back as she felt something whip through the air around the Rider.

His magic boiled within his skin as he created the phrase he wanted to bless her with, hours upon hours of lessons in Ancient Language being called upon, as Eragon used the knowledge from Brom and the Dragons both. Saphira hummed beside him and the power in the air rose up, her tail whipping back adn forth as she too supplied a minuscule bit of her reserves to his intent, and a purple aura seemed to spring up around him for a moment.

"sé ono waíse vardio an sköliro fra mïnen grathr and andlát an atra ilian tauthr ono"

The words were spoken, the magic interwoven in the language rising and thrumming like waves of a Tsunami, as the intent behind Eragon's wish bent Elva's fate. His magic, and that of Saphira swirled around the girl in a visible, shimmering cocoon of purple and blue before it sank inside her skin. The audience gasped at that, murmurs and whispers starting anew as they praised him and the girl both, while Elva's grandmother fell to her knees, pearly tears of gratitude falling down her face as she looked at him with worship in her eyes.

"A thousand thanks to you Argetlam, a thousand thanks to you," the woman murmured he bent down and gave the squirming babe back to her, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with all the whispers around him. "I shall tell her about the Rider who bless her M'lord, tell her about the Rider who cared."

Nodding slowly at her words, he turned around and swiftly jumped over Saphira's back, and she immediately took flight without any prompting. 'They will talk about it for weeks, perhaps months' she said softly, 'Elva…you changed her destiny with your words, and i did the same with the magic I gave her.'

'Were we right to do so?" he thought back 'Change her life, her destiny. I am not even a fully-fledged Rider, not even seventeen winters old…yet I am just changed a three-moons old girl's future. I feel as if the world is moving faster than I can comprehend it, Saphira. When at the banks of Kóstha-mérna I burned those Urgals…I felt so happy about it! In that single fleeting moment, I was more overjoyed than I have ever been, as the screams of those beasts and the scent of their burnt bodies came to me…I was cackling in my head!"

"Well, they were ou-"

'NO!' Eragon shouted across their bond, his fingers gripping his browns and scarlet hair, 'You don't understand Saphira! I enjoyed killing those Urgals, even though I could have made a much smaller fireball or even just ran back inside the entrance….I wanted to kill as many as I could, and make it hurt.'

"ERAGON!" a shout from below interrupted them, and both of them looked down to see a runner waving his hands from atop his horse, Varden's sigil etched into his armor. Saphira swooped down towards the floor, and Eragon jumped off her back once they were a few feet above the ground, letting Saphira fly back up so as to not spook the horse.

"What is it?" he asked, striding forwards toward the messenger, "Has something happened?"

"Aye," the man nodded, "Ajihad has called for you to come to his tent. Immediately."