The Oncoming Storm

Gandalf sat down on the stool, and gently poured a cup of tea for him, Elrond, Eragon and Murtagh. He took a cup and sat back. He, Eragon, Elrond, and Arya had spent the better part of the last day, and some of the night, collapsing tunnels and singing into place cunning and elegant illusions. It was long and tiresome work, and they were glad that they still had most of the day left, ere the battle began, and that one of Elrond's favourite herbs for tea was present. The elf lord had suggested they all have a calming cup of tea. Because it was of elvish make, it of course had some enchantments about it, increasing its flavour tenfold, and giving its drinkers energy and strength. Not quite miruvor, but still quite good. Gandalf liked the idea, and decided he needed to introduce Elrond to Murtagh.

Thus, the four of them sat in Murtagh's cell, quietly sipping on the tea, consumed by their own thoughts; Eragon was thinking about Arya, who was busy organizing the soldiers, and Murtagh of Nasuada, who was sending messages hither and thither, and figuring out how to participate in the upcoming battle. But Gandalf and Elrond's minds were turned to the Shade, Durza. And Gandalf wished to speak with Saphira, and consult her on the matter.

At last, Murtagh broke the silence, saying, "So, Elrond, what's Middle-Earth like?"

Elrond thought for a moment before speaking, telling Murtagh of the Dúnedain, the Rangers, and secret protectors of the lands, and descendants of mighty kings and princes, and great lords of Men, who knew the wilderness like few others, and were well learned in lore.

As Elrond told Murtagh and Eragon, who became rather invested in the tales, Gandalf cast his mind afar, and sought for Saphira. He found her soon, for her mind was vast and bright. It occurred to Gandalf that this dragon was rather akin to the Eldar.

Her mind was well fortified, too. Gandalf was confident he could break past her defences, if need be, though it would be a difficult battle, one he hoped he'd never have to fight.

She noticed his presence and warily let him in, though not too much, wondering, 'Gandalf?'

'Indeed, my lady,' he answered, continuing in a cautious tone, 'I hoped I could consult you on the matter of Durza.'

She wavered for a moment, before letting him deeper into her mind, which had developed a vengeful tone. 'What do you wish to know, o greybeard?'

'If I may, Iell Alagos, I would ask that you permit me examine your memories of Durza,' Gandalf answered. 'I have read pitifully little on shades, and if I knew more I may be better able to fight him.'

'Eragon saw him closest,' said Saphira, 'having fought him. But he shared with me his memories, and I can share those with you.'

'I would be honoured, Iell Alagos,' thanked Gandalf. But before Saphira showed him the memories, she asked him, 'Why do you call me that?'

'Iell Alagos?'

'Yes.'

'It means Daughter of Wind, or Storm Daughter, if you wish,' he answered. 'It is Sindarin. Iell is daughter, and Alagos wind, or storm.'

Satisfied, and a little smug, Saphira showed him the memories. Gandalf observed them, a feeling of dread falling upon him, countered by Narya, and his growing understanding.

The wizard, having observed each memory in turn, and committing them to his own, left Saphira's mind. Finishing his tea, he bid his companion's farewell.

"Until later," he said. "Rest for now, and do not fret needlessly. But be ready."

Gandalf made his way to the lowest, darkest levels as quickly as he could. There was one last thing he needed to make sure of before he could be confident enough that the Varden were safe. As safe, he supposed, as any rebellion under attack could be.

Upon reaching the lowest level, lit by dim lanterns, still admirably carved, he searched for any signs of the Twins, but there were few dwarves living there, and fewer dwarves that were there that were willing to speak to him. They told him that the 'Egraz Carn' – which was only one of the various names they spat – did not live here, but instead lower. They had a secret tunnel which only they knew the password to.

It took some cajoling, but one dwarf finally told him where the general location of their tunnel's door lay. Upon arriving in the empty room, Gandalf looked about, and saw the entrance almost at once, invisible though they tried to make it. Their efforts would have succeeded against most other people, perhaps, but he was Gandalf. His vision was little better than most. He walked up carefully, wondering why the Twins would go to such lengths. The answers he considered were hardly innocent.

Gandalf considered the doors for a moment, before standing back and commanding in Quenyan, "Fenna, láta nin. Lasta nin, fenna! Ni canidë láta nin!" Door, open for me! Listen to me, door! I command you to open to me!

His powerful voice reverberated throughout the room and down corridors, and the doors slowly but surely open, as though some force tried to keep them shut.

The doors fully open, Gandalf stepped through them into the darkness, lighting his staff, and throwing back shadows. The light revealed a spiralling stone staircase, more crudely cut than any other in Tronjheim. Moving his staff to his left hand, Gandalf kept one hand on Glamdring.

Moving down the stairs, Gandalf kept his staff in front of him, ready to draw Glamdring at a moment's notice. The air in the stairwell was damp and thick. At last, he came to an arched opening, and he could see a floor.

At the bottom, he saw a number of candles, unlit. Murmuring, he lit them. He diminished the light on his staff, and looked around. There were many desks with scattered paper, shelves with old, thin books, more desks with a number of crude instruments and stones and precious gems.

Gandalf carefully made his way forth. "Twins! Are you here?" he called. "Come out, for I have need to speak to you." There was no answer.

Frowning, and strode over to the desks that had papers scattered all over, keeping a watchful eye out for any dangers. He glanced over them. They were written in large letters, and Gandalf saw most were simply spells in this ancient language, with their translations and uses. There wasn't much on the subject.

But on another desk, Gandalf found something interesting. A map of Tronjheim, marking the bottom of the dwarves great staircase, Vol Turin. There were more maps beside that one, and Gandalf began to study them, for they were marked with crosses and scribbles. There were notes, also, on the maps, saying 'too near to battle' or 'too easy for dragon to reach', and so forth.

"So, this is their treachery uncovered," he muttered to himself. He began to gather the papers, to show to Ajihad, when a cold, enraged voice hissed:

"What are you doing here?"

Gandalf spun around to face the entrance, where the two Twins stood, fury written across their faces. Well, this was awkward. He doubted they really needed the papers anymore.

"At last," said Gandalf. "I was wondering when you would arrive."

"What. Are. You. Doing here?" One Twin asked again, cold fury in his voice. "Answer me now, or else."

Gandalf nearly laughed. Or else? "I was searching for you," he answered truthfully. "When I could not find you, I decided to investigate. And I must say, this is a remarkably curious find."

The Twins looked at the papers in his hand, and then back at him. "Those are meaningless."

"No doubt," said Gandalf. "I imagine you have already betrayed the layout of the city to your master, and he has made plans to arrive here, with Eragon waiting for him."

The Twins looked at Gandalf, almost shaking from their rage. "We," one said slowly, "Don't know what you're talking about."

"It's fruitless to lie to me, and continuing to do so only further enforces your guilt," warned Gandalf. "And I do not take kindly to liars, especially not when they lie to conceal their part in some foul mischief. Speak truthfully, and you may come out of this better."

The Twins, now shaking with rage, shook their heads. "No," said one. "We have a better idea. Brisingr!"

The papers in Gandalf's hand burst into flame, and Gandalf cast them aside. Then a cold, cruel smile crept onto the Twins faces.

"Now, what shall we do about you, Gandalf," they spat. "Shall we kill you? Claim it was in self-defence? Or should we wipe your memory?"

They began to encircle him. Gandalf stayed quiet, but readied his mind for any assault they might launch against him. He gripped Glamdring, and the Twins laughed.

"A sword!" one spat. "Pathetic." Gandalf noted keenly, however, that they kept well out of reach.

"Let's tie him up and leave him here," the other suggested. "Durza can have him. He'd make a fine toy for the king, don't you agree?"

"Good idea." One of the Twins raised a hand and began to speak. But as he got one word out of his mouth, Gandalf suddenly raised his staff, and let loose a bright flash of light. There was a crack like thunder, and the Twins were blinded and disorientated. When they opened their eyes, Gandalf was gone.

The old wizard ran up the stairs, lighting his path once more. At the top he found his path barred once more. Unwilling to wait, he thrust his staff forth and struck the doors. They shattered into rubble, and he leapt over them.

Behind him, he heard the Twins cry out in their ancient language, and he looked behind him. A ball of fire came his way, and he smote it with his staff, dissipating it into little, harmless sparks. He stayed for a moment, before shoving his staff in the sparks. They roared to life, turning a brilliant blue, and clung to the floor and walls and the ceiling, and even the rubble, neither spreading nor diminishing. He took off again, with a speed quite antithetical to his ancient appearance.

Soon, he came back to more populated levels, and eventually he found his way to Murtagh's cell, where he had been informed Ajihad would be.

"Lord Ajihad!" he called to the Varden's leader. "I have urgent news."

Ajihad, who was speaking with Murtagh, spun around, his face a veritable study on stress. "Do you? What is it then?"

"It's the Twins," Gandalf said. "They are traitors to the Varden."

Ajihad sighed, frustrated. "A hundred people have told me that, Gandalf, and I've never found any evidence. I don't have time for this." He turned back to Murtagh.

"They plan to lure Eragon to the bottom of Vol Turin during the battle, so Durza can capture him," argued Gandalf, his voice hard and urgent. "They intended to weaken him during their test of him, by forcing him to use a spell well beyond his capabilities. And they tried to kill me only a few moments ago."

Ajihad turned back to Gandalf. "These," he said slowly, "Are very serious accusations, Gandalf. Can you prove any of them?"

Gandalf faltered for a moment. He had no physical evidence. The Twins burnt the papers. There were no witnesses to his attempted murder. Witnesses! Arya was witness to their attempt on Eragon, and she could read his mind.

"Summon Arya," said Gandalf. "She bore witness to their attempts to weaken Eragon. And she can examine my mind, and tell you if I speak truthfully."

Ajihad was silent for a short moment, before gesturing to a dwarf. "Get me Arya, and tell her it's urgent. I'll be waiting here. When you're done, find the Twins."

The dwarf bowed and exited. Ajihad turned back and spoke to Murtagh once again, detailing, to Gandalf's gladness, how he'd serve in the upcoming battle. At last, he told Murtagh to go, and to don some armour, and take his sword.

Then they waited for Arya. They sat quietly on the two seats. Ajihad had a grim mask on his face, but Gandalf could see past it, and saw the fear in his mind, the doubts; a longstanding fear that he had let two enemies into his close council. His spirit was strong, and the doubts and fears would not debilitate him, but these fears would still drill deeper into his mind, were it not for Narya.

Finally, the egg-courier arrived, frustration evident on her face, in spite of the mask she wore so cleverly.

"Arya, thank you for coming so quickly," said Ajihad. "I need to ask you something. Did the Twins ask Eragon to use a spell well beyond his capabilities?"

Arya nodded stiffly. "They told him to summon the essence of silver, a feat which not even they could do."

"Thank you. And I know this isn't your usual role, and you are in no way subservient to me," Ajihad continued. "But I'd like you to examine Gandalf's mind for me, and tell me if he's telling the truth."

Arya raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because he accuses the Twins of treachery," explained Ajihad. "And cannot produce any evidence. He has requested that you search his mind, to prove his point."

Arya looked at Gandalf curiously, and he thought he saw a gleam of eagerness in her eyes, but it passed, replaced with frustration. She turned back to Ajihad.

"Perhaps not," she said. "If the spell he cast was any indicator, Gandalf is evidently immensely powerful. He could easily conjure up false memories. No, I think a better idea would be to have him swear in the ancient language."

Ajihad thought for a while, then nodded. "Very well. If you insist."

Arya turned to Gandalf and spoke to him, telling him to repeat a string of words he didn't recognise. But they were laden with power and authority. When he repeated them, they seemed to bind him to them. He could not lie about what he saw in the Twins lair, even if he desired to.

"Now tell us what happened, Gandalf," said Arya.

And so, Gandalf repeated his little adventure. He told them how he found the Twins lair, having discovered the invisible doors. He told them how he found the Twins map, and the notes on them. He spoke of how the Twins found him, and tried to kill him, and how they mentioned Durza by name. Throughout the tale, Arya's face grew fiercer, and her fists tighter. Her arms twitched.

When his tale was over, Ajihad sat with his chin on his steepled hands, his face distraught.

"So, it's true then," he said slowly. "The Twins are traitors after all. And I let them deep into my own council. Every mind they examined, every report they filed, it all could have been false. And they could've betrayed us to Galbatorix."

"I do not think so," said Gandalf thoughtfully. "If they had let enemy forces slip into Varden, then their skills would no doubt be called into question, and replacements found. No, I think they have served you faithfully enough. Enough to gain and keep your trust, although they will have attempted to sabotage the Varden's efforts in some matters."

"So now what?" asked Arya. "The Twins will tell Durza of this."

And there was the damned nuisance that came with being found out like this. It was all well and good to foil a plan, but if their plans were left to play out, by the wizards' terms, they could rid themselves of a devious foe. If Durza escaped, he would cause all manner of problems. But that seemed unlikely to happen, unless they could contrive some manner of tricking the Twins into letting Durza come.

And then Gandalf had it. "Ajihad," he said. "When the Twins arrive, tell them you do not believe me. Claim to place me among the healers, because you cannot trust me on the battlefield. That way, their ploy shall play out, but on our terms."

"I see," said Ajihad. "Shall we tell Eragon about this?"

Gandalf thought for a moment. It would be a good idea, so that Eragon knew what to expect, and would agree to their plan. On the other hand, there was the chance that the dragon rider may lose his calm and lash out at the Twins, or let slip his knowledge of the Twins treachery. But perhaps it was worth taking the risk.

Gandalf nodded. "I will ask Elrond to inform him soon."

At that moment, the doors opened, and Ajihad and Arya adopted an annoyed mask. Ajihad stood up, and began to agitatedly tell Gandalf that his accusation has no proof. Then the Twins came into view.

"You summoned us, sir," said one of the Twins. Gandalf spun to look at them; a subdued blaze was in his eyes.

"Yes," said Ajihad, an irritated tone to his voice. "But it looks like it was unnecessary. It seems Gandalf here was… mistaken in his accusations. Arya had him speak in the ancient language. As such, you can no longer be trusted on the front lines, Gandalf. You'll be busy with the healers. And gods know they'll need all the help they can get. Now, unless you two have anything to report…"

The Twins shared a sudden look, then shook their heads.

"Then get out, and you too, Gandalf! You can go find the healers!" shouted Ajihad, startling the three of them. Gandalf huffed, and stormed past the Twins, shoving them aside, casting his mind out to Elrond, as he headed off to the healers.

'Elrond, I have something to tell you,' he said. He explained to the elf-lord the situation, and asked him to tell Eragon. 'And tell him to not let the Twins know that he knows. Thank you.'

Soon enough, he found the healers chambers. They were preparing many herbs and poultices. The room was alight with many candles. Gandalf introduced himself, and explained that he was to aid them for the time being.

Elrond felt the Istar's mind leave, and quickly resumed donning the last bits of the golden armour. This was troubling news indeed. Not wholly unexpected, but troubling, nonetheless. He returned his circlet to his head, and placed his sword on his belt. He looked at the bow and arrows. They were of dwarf make, in the youth of the Varden, as gifts for the guards of the egg-courier. They would suit him well enough.

He sighed. There wasn't much time until the Urgals were to arrive. He would need to hurry if he were to get the message to Eragon on time.

'War is always rushed,' he mused. He shook his head, and searched for the young Edain. It was such a pity that the boy – for he was still a boy, even by his people's standards – should face the atrocities of war. But perhaps he was ready. He saw that the boy was strong, and likely skilled with that sword he wielded. But he was young, nevertheless. Young, and malleable. And if war changed even the ancient and hardiest of people, how much more so the young?

But so it was, and it was not in his power to change the situation, merely guide it to the preferred outcome. He could only strive to guide the boy, guide the egg-courier, guide the dragon. Even the dragon. He smiled ruefully at the thought.

It didn't take long for Elrond to find Eragon. He was in the armoury, where Orik gave him some dwarf-crafted armour. Elrond was glad. Even in this world, few could match dwarves in metal-work. Such armour would serve him well.

"Eragon, Orik," he said in greeting.

"Elrond," said Orik, gravely. "It's good to see you again. I see you're ready."

"Indeed. I need to speak with Eragon," said Elrond, quietly. "Privately. It is a sensitive matter. The fewer people that know the better. But do not worry, my friend. I shall tell you as soon as the battle is won."

Orik nodded, turning to Eragon. "Alright. I'll go help get Saphira her armour on."

As soon as he was out of hearing range, Eragon asked Elrond, ever so slightly nervously, "What do you need to talk to me about?"

"Can you speak to me with your mind?" asked Elrond.

"Err, yes—"

"Then do so," interrupted Elrond. The young mortal blinked, shocked, but complied, nevertheless.

'Eragon, the Twins have been revealed as traitors,' he informed the young Edain as soon as contact was made. 'Gandalf has found that they intend to lead you to Durza, far from the battle.'

'They WHAT?' Eragon cried in his mind. 'How was this found out? What will happen to them? How did—'

'All your questions will be answered shortly, orna Eragon,' interrupted Elrond. 'But for now, Gandalf has decided that we should let them play their game. But when they ask you to go to Vol Turin, you must first inform Gandalf or myself. Then we can attack the shade together.'

Eragon seemed to think about this for a moment. Then he thought, 'It's sounds like a good plan.'

'Gandalf would not give any other,' replied Elrond with a small smile. It faded quickly, as a horn sounded throughout the caverns. It was the horn of war.

Elrond broke the mental contact, and looked down at Eragon, and pity was in his deep eyes.

Eragon took a deep breath. "Well, good luck, lord Elrond," he said, nervously. "I hope to see you afterwards."

Elrond smiled warmly, and promised, "I shall see you when this battle is over, my friend. May your sword stay ever sharp." Then he clapped Eragon on the shoulder, and left to join the front line.

Okay, so here we are again. Hope you enjoy this piece. Yes, I think I am drawing this out a bit long. Don't worry. I daresay that the battle shall be over by the next chapter. Although getting to Ellesméra will take quite some time. I was a bit uncertain about how to deal with the Twins being discovered. Tell me what you think.

Thanks for your reviews. I cannot express in words how thankful I am for your reviews. Please keep reviewing my work.

Also, when Elrond calls Eragon 'orna', he was calling him hasty. I'll leave the link to my source on Sindarin and Quenyan on my profile.