I see that this story has been gaining in popularity, I'm glad to see people happy at this stories return. I do have one question though, for those who care to answer. I've been uploading a chapter a day, therefor keeping this story among the top updated stories of the Inheritance Cycle section. Would you rather I keep it that way? Or would you rather I upload as much as I can asnoften as I can? Matters not to me, but seeing if I go with the second option, I feel it will be there less time for people to enjoy it. I'm not sure, I cannot see the future. Carry on.
~NitexXxMare
Ajihad and Hrothgar may have accepted him into Tronjheim, but Eragon knew that their feelings of mistrust had yet to be completely quelled. He may have won a small extent of their favor by exposing the Twins, but he knew in the end, they still did not trust him as they trusted Murtagh. But that did not unsettle him in the least. In fact, it pleased him to see such leaders wary and cautious of another strong presence amongst. They were displeased when he refused to let Arya examine his memory.
"If you want our trust…" Hrothgar began, but Eragon cut across the dwarf, in a cold tone.
"My mind is my only true sanctuary that I may claim as my own. I will not allow just anyone to sift through my thoughts and memories. It's the principle of the matter you see." He replied. "I do not think you would let anyone into your thoughts would you, your majesty?" he spoke the last part with much needed sarcasm.
"You are not making it possible for us to accept you without ill grace." Ajihad said, with a frown. "We cannot trust you if we don't know your true intentions with the Varden. You could easily betray us, as you betrayed your king."
"That demands the question, was I ever truly loyal to him? For how can you betray that which you never held true allegiance to?" Arya stood to the side of the discussion. Maintaining a calm demeanor, as she watched both sides argue with one another. Eventually, after another minute of heated discussion, did she decide to become involved.
"The night is late and I am sure we all would like to rest. Let us bring an end to these arguments," she turned to fully face him with a regal demeanor. "Give me your oath in the ancient language that you have no intentions of harming the Varden or willingly serving Galbatorix once more and you will lend us your strength to fight Galbatorix." Turning to Ajihad she asked, "Would that suffice?" Taking a moment to think, he replied that it would.
Eragon stared at her for a long time, neither of them blinking. With a sigh, he at last gave his word. "Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal, eka malabra du Varden né haina." Upon my word as a Rider, I mean the Varden no harm. She nodded, in a sharp birdlike motion.
"He has given us his oath." Hrothgar swore heavily but let it pass while Ajihad remained silent. They were not going to let this pass easily, Eragon thought. But they couldn't imprison him either, with his power he could circumvent any prison they could devise. They had no choice but to treat him with grace. The thought of that made him smile.
"Orik!" the young dwarf that had spat at Eragon earlier ambled forward at Ajihad's command. "Show our Rider where he will be staying and bring him a spare change of clothes. I would rather not see that crest again." He eyed the crimson flames on Eragon's cape and Saphira's armor with distaste. Orik nodded with great reluctance. He may have been pleased at Eragon's acceptance to join the Varden, but such feelings soon melted away when he had refused to be examined.
With that, Ajihad left; dismissing the battalion of armed dwarves and humans, with a gesture. Hrothgar, with one last glance at him, turned and strode away as well into the heart of Tronjheim. Eragon turned coming to face his mother, father, half-brother and his dragon. Standing to the side were his servants, all nervous as to what manner of punishment he would have in store for them. One glance at Murtagh brought immense feelings of distaste to him. After his earlier venting of emotions, he started to regain a sense of normalcy.
"Lord Eragon!" within seconds, his servants were upon him, anxious and fearful, apologetic expressions on their faces. Finny and Bard, however, were the two most emotional while Desdemona and Rosalie were the most composed. Finny, the youngest of the group, was clenching his hands before him, something he did when he was restless. His light hair, a mixture of red and blonde framed his face while green eyes stared up at Eragon. "We're sorry! When Lady Selena said that she was leaving we tried stopping her but—"
"Calm down, Finny." Eragon said slightly irritated at Finny's outburst.
"What Finny is trying to say is that we couldn't stop her Ladyship without the use of force." Desdemona spoke up, she was a beautiful woman with straight black hair and violet eyes, her heart shape face was haughty, in his opinion her expression looked somewhat like Arya's at the moment. "And I'm sure that you wouldn't want that, Lord Eragon. Please, forgive us."
And with that, the two women sunk in a low curtsy while the men bowed. He stared down at them. It was true, he didn't want his mother running off to the Varden but he knew that they wouldn't want to hurt her in anyway. Rubbing his temples, he sighed. "At least you're all useful for something."
Just like that, their expressions became one of pure joy. Bard, who was the oldest amongst the servants, grinned ruffling his blonde hair, his blue eyes sparkling. "What did I tell you? I knew his Lordship wouldn't hold it against us!"
"You knew? You were shaking with fear when you heard news of him arriving!" Rosalie accused. Another beautiful woman, whose most endearing features were her soft, wavy, red locks and bright green eyes. Why had he taken them in to begin with, he wondered? After letting the four of them chatter amongst themselves, his irritation had gotten the best of him.
"If you have nothing else to do but argue amongst yourself, I suggest you go and do something useful!" he ordered.
"Yes, my lord!" with that they left, running, scrambling, and walking to Tronjheim. Orik, who was watching their progress, had a thoughtful expression on his face.
"An odd group of servants you've hired." He turned his eyes back to his mother; she whispered something to Brom and Murtagh before walking over to him. And there he saw it, a gleam in her eyes that he had never seen before. She was truly happy, here in the Varden.
"I'm glad you didn't punish them. Finny and Bard looked beyond miserable when I dragged them here." His mother said, in her gentle voice. "I thought that they might drown themselves when we reached the waterfall."
He could just imagine how hysterical those two were. Orik glanced about them. "Let us be off."
With that he led them with Eragon and his mother following in tow, Arya having snuck away earlier. As they walked through the tunnels, Orik spoke. "For now, you'll be resting in one of Tronjheim's finest quarters. Seeing as you need to change your outfit," he eyed Eragon's armor and cape with distaste. "But tomorrow, you shall see the true place in which a Rider and his dragon would usually sleep, above the Isidar Mithrim, the star sapphire. Your dragon is likely inspecting the area now."
He glanced about not realizing that Saphira wasn't following them. Eragon rubbed his temples as they walked, today was a tiring day. He would make amends for ignoring Saphira tomorrow. They came to a stop in front of a large mahogany door. He was grateful for Tronjheim, like Orthíad, had taken into consideration the heights of other races. "Here is where you'll stay for the time being. By morning I will have clothes brought to you. Rest well."
When he was gone, Eragon turned to his mother. "Where are you staying?"
Her answer was a vague, as she waved about the hallway. "Somewhere close by."
He nodded, throwing open the door to his quarters; it was a spacious room indeed. An iron wrought bed stood in the center of the room, which had a writing desk against one wall that held an oil lamp. It was plain but comfortable. He was surprised when his mother stepped into the room as well, closing the door behind her. "Is something wrong?"
She stared at him for a long time and before he knew, his mother had thrown herself on him, freely sobbing. Trying not to let the sharp contours of his armor dig into her, he gently settled her on the bed, pulling away to stare at her face which had tears streaming from the corners of her eyes. "What's wrong?" he repeated.
"I just—I just feel beyond guilty that I had to drag you here in such a way." She explained. "I can imagine your panic when I left the castle and what was worse, was that during the entire journey I always teetered on the edge of uncertainty; to go back or to join the Varden. I didn't want to hurt you." And suddenly she started sobbing harder than ever. "That's all I've ever done though, hurt my youngest son."
Eragon sighed. His mother was quite distressed. What she needed was a good night's sleep to calm her nerves. Though he pressed her, for the issue had been itching at him as well. "Then why did you leave if you knew it would hurt me so much? You know how important you are to me, but yet, you still left without as much as a thought."
She wiped at her eyes, throwing brown locks of hair out of her face. "I didn't want to see you suffer anymore. To watch you wear a mask for the rest of your life. How would any mother want for their child? I love you, Eragon. I love your smile and to see you happy, but living in the Empire didn't make you happy."
"And here does? They're all cautious of me, a snake in their midst." He whispered. His mother reached out with a hand to place it on the side of his face.
"It was just as Ajihad said, if you do a number of good goods here, then that will surely overlook all of your past misdeeds." She replied softly. "And I know you'll be happy here because you'll be free, Eragon. Something you and Saphira had longed for so long. And maybe you will learn to open up more of yourself to the world around you. See new sights and meet new people."
"Who would want to meet me?" he scoffed. "I, who have killed many of the Varden's allies, members and spies."
"In time, things will change." They sat there, or rather his mother sat on the bed while he knelt before her. Moving to his feet, he turned his back to her, deciding to change the subject.
"Why did you decide to leave the castle? Was it because you heard news of the new Rider and Brom?"
"It was. I had to see for myself whether he was truly alive. And if he was, you could finally receive closure Eragon. To know if your father truly wanted to abandon you or not. I knew that if I came here, having sent you that note, you would surely come chasing after me. And you did." She explained, pausing. "I know you hate your father and possibly your brother, but please, try to treat them politely."
He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time before turning to face his mother. "It is late and you need to rest. We'll speak more of these matters when you aren't in such a restless state."
And within half an hour his mother was tucked underneath the sheets of the bed, sleeping peacefully, her sword and dagger on the table along with her boots, bracers and greaves. That night, he sat there in the chair by the table, deep in thought. How far had Durza managed to travel already? Had he made it to Orthíad yet and assembled the Urgals to attack Farthen Dûr? Regardless, Eragon would advise Ajihad of their plans. Even if he had harbored any thoughts of withholding the information, to see the Varden's destruction, his oath compelled him to inform Ajihad. Besides, his mother was happy here in the Varden, along with Saphira. She may not have voiced it aloud, but he could feel it through their connection, she was a free dragon now, amongst her brethren, Thorn and the baby dragon that he had yet to see.
He was curious, who did had it hatched for, he wondered. He sat there thinking until sleep decided to take him and when he woke his mother was gone and resting on the bed was a pile of clothing. A dark tunic made of the finest cloth and a pair of tan breeches awaited him with black leather boots resting at the edge of the bed.
He had donned them with reluctance and when he was done, Eragon found himself staring at his helm again. He looked like a different person, nothing like Gabranth. Placing the helm on the table with the rest of his armor, he left his room in search of Saphira. He didn't have a hard time searching, for she was waiting for him under the star sapphire. Good morning, little one.
It is. He reached up to stroke her snout. How did you sleep? Well, I hope.
I did. And you?
Just as well. He decided then to apologize to her. I am sorry for ignoring you like that yesterday. I hadn't even noticed when you left.
She gently nudged him. You were experiencing much, it is understandable. I do not blame you at all. She blinked before gesturing him towards one of the tunnels. Let us go for a walk; I think we both need it.
Eragon nodded and began to walk in the direction that she gestured to, with Saphira softly padding behind. They had just turned a corner, when something small and green jumped on him. It took him a moment to recognize the scales lining the creature, dark and rich, and the tail that kept swatting him in the chest. A dragon! Saphira's voice echoed painfully in his head.
The dragon, upon seeing Saphira, jumped off him and landed in front of her. It let out a squeak at the sight of her, before bounding up the side of her front leg and onto her back. A deep rumble formed in Saphira's chest as she was amused at the baby dragon's action.
But who is its Rider?
His question was answered as stepping around the corner, was Arya, appearing as regal and dignified as they had first met. He watched as the baby dragon jumped down from Saphira and into the elf's arms. "You are the Rider of the last egg?" he asked, the shock of the revelation overwhelming him.
Fate did have a way of bringing things together, Eragon thought as he watched Arya and her dragon. She nodded, holding up her right hand for him to clearly see the gedwëy insignia. "He hatched for me a few days after we had escaped Gil'ead."
Eragon looked at her thoughtfully. Arya turned to address Saphira respectfully. "We meet again, Saphira."
Saphira acknowledged her. Though now in better circumstances. Does he have a name? She gestured towards the baby dragon.
Arya shook her head. "No, he is still too young to speak." Her green eyes turned back to him. "Your new clothing seems to fit you well."
"It does, doesn't it? Though I can't help but feel a little exposed, having worn full armor for the greater portion of the last four years."
She replied, with a small hint of a smile. "I hope you are not too uncomfortable. Walk with me; I would like to speak with you."
He nodded and the two of them fell into step beside one another. After a moment's silence did she finally speak, her voice had a hint of trill, as if she were about to sing. "I owe you a debt that must be repaid. You saved my life. That can never be forgotten. And you gave me something precious, which in turn grew to give the Varden hope."
His eyes darted down to the dragon before returning to her face. "Then I shall see if there is ever a time in which you may repay such a debt."
She nodded, turning to gaze ahead of him. "You never answered my question back in Gil'ead. Why did you rescue me? Why did you let me leave with Murtagh and the last egg?"
He shrugged. "I rather you not die at the hands of Durza. I have told you before haven't I? If you're going to fight for the Varden, being alive will come in handy." His expression darkened. "And I would rather you not meet Galbatorix."
She opened her mouth to say more, but a guard rushed up to them. The two of them turned to him. Eragon watched as the young man's eyes flickered to Arya in awe before stopping to rest on Eragon. "Ajihad requests your presence in his study, Arya and Eragon."
Arya dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "I will lead Eragon there." The young man nodded and with one last glance towards them, ran back the way he came. They walked in silence, taking four sharp turns before stopping before a massive cedar door, stained black with age. Arya pulled it open and allowed him to walk in before her. Eragon entered an elegant, two-story study paneled with rows of cedar bookshelves. An iron-wrought staircase wound up to a small balcony with two chairs and a reading table. White lanterns hung along the walls and ceiling so a book could be read anywhere in the room. The stone floor was covered by an intricate oval rug. At the far end of the room, Ajihad sat behind a large walnut desk.
He glanced up at their arrival. "Eragon, Arya please seat yourselves." Both of them slid into an armchair before Ajihad, as Saphira Settled behind them and the baby dragon rested on Arya's lap. Ajihad studied Eragon with a critical eye. "Those clothes suit you." He stated.
Eragon nodded. "They do quite well, thank you. But you didn't call me here for pleasantries did you?"
Ajihad sighed, and for once, Eragon saw some of his age. "I called you here to speak of the Twins." He glanced at Arya, who stiffened. "You deserve to hear what I have to say, as you've lost two companions due to them, Arya."
She nodded, her stiff posture never relaxing.
Ajihad returned his eyes to Eragon. "Since this is the opportune time to test your loyalty and see if you've truly abandoned the Empire, Eragon," His voice grew grave and his expression solemn.
"I'm placing you as the twin's executioner."