Wow! 900 Reviews! 100 more and it'll be a thousand (Though I would love for it to hit 1000 before New Years I don't mind it being in the 900s) Anyways, I'm going to be busy with my parents' birthdays to update this weekend. My dad's birthday is on December 31st and my mother's is on January 1st. (It's a pain because I go out of cash with every end and beginning to a year, but I love them to death) Not to mention it's New Years! Anyways, I'll have my hands filled then. So I'm going to update today for you all.
Arya stared at the basin filled with water. It had only been two days since the battle on the Burning Plains and already the Varden was trying to bury their dead and prepare to continue their campaign to invade the Empire. The battle was both a victory and loss for the Varden. They were able to prove to the Empire that they weren't as weak as Galbatorix had thought but in doing so they'd lost hundreds of warriors. It was saddening.
At the moment, she was about to report to her mother who was no doubt near the western edge of Du Weldenvarden preparing to invade the nearest city in the Empire, Ceunon. She had held off the report long enough. Today she had to report to her mother about the battle and about her own personal decisions that involved Eragon. They were no doubt going to be at odds with one another again.
Thinking of Eragon, she felt herself instinctively relax as she thought of him lending an able hand in healing the wounded and burying the dead with the rest of the Varden. She would assist as well but her hands were tied down to other duties that she had to perform before she could do so. After another minute of staring at the water filled basin, she bent over it reaching for her energy as she murmured quietly, "Draumr kopa," as well as a variety of other spells so she may speak and listen to her mother and her advisors.
The water went completely black for a moment before an oval shape brightened in the middle of the water and she beheld the interior of a large white tent, in which she saw an Erisdar, one of their magical lanterns, but seeing as it was morning its glow was unneeded. A tall elf with silver hair and battle-worn armor entered her field of vision and she immediately recognized him as Lord Dathedr, one of her mother's advisors as well as Arya's friend. He inclined his head and touched the first two fingers of his right hand to his lips, greeting her in which she responded in kind.
After they were done, Dathedr spared her a faint smile, "I am glad to know that you are well, Arya Drottningu, we heard tides of you battle against the Empire a few days ago and have been much concerned for your welfare as well as the other riders."
"I thank you for your concern, Dathedr-vor, I am well as the others," said Arya, she pressed forward. "If it does not trouble you, I'm here to speak to Queen Islanzadi for I have to report the events of the Varden since the battle."
He held her gaze for a moment before nodding, "As you wish, Arya Drottningu. I shall inquire after the queen if you will wait."
"I shall wait. You assistance is more welcome Dathedr-vor," said Arya as she watched him leave her line of vision. Dathedr had been one of her close friends before she'd left Du Weldenvarden to become her mother's only ambassador and though he had warned against it, he had blessed her a safe journey when it seemed that she was determined to take the yawe upon her shoulder and devote her life to her people.
A minute passed and then another trickled by. Arya was not bothered by the time it took for she had lived a century and understood the importance of patience unlike her mate did. Letting her eyes wonder from the water, they stopped on the glass orb that contained the white rose that he had given her during the Agaeti Blodhren. She had taken it with her from Ellesmera unable to leave it behind. Though it may have been the first flower he had given her it wasn't perfect but she appreciated it all the same.
The sound of ripping cloth or something akin to it drew her attention back to the water. The entrance flap of the tent flew open as her mother thrust it aside gliding towards the seeing glass with such grace that even she couldn't mirror. She wore a bright corselet or golden scale armor, augmented with mail and greaves and a beautifully decorated helm. A red cape trimmed with white billowed from her shoulders. When her mother's gaze fell upon her, she felt an ache in her heart from the seven decades that her mother had banned her from her presence. Though it was long ago and she had forgiven her mother, it still came back to haunt her every time she glanced upon her mother's imperious and regal demeanor. And the thought of her mother going to war as commander of the elven army worried her.
Arya touched her lips with her fingers and twisted her hand over her chest in a gesture of loyalty and respect before she greeted her mother first knowing that she stood above all. When they were done and Arya had opted to end it with the three line of the greeting did her mother bestow upon her a smile. "I'm relieved and glad to see that you are unharmed from the battle, Arya. It pained me to know that you would be fighting against such uneven odds. But it seems that my worries are for not."
"It heartens me mother to know that you were concerned for my welfare but as you said, I am well as is Eridor and my companions. You can put your worries to rest," reassured Arya, knowing all too well the pain in the knowledge of having a family member fight and risk their lives. "The fighting goes well here with the Varden and what of you?"
"The fighting has yet to start, daughter of mine," said Islanzadi as she gazed upon Arya, her own emerald eyes bright and deep with age and wisdom. "But it shall be soon. Our rangers have been watching the people of Ceunon for some time now. And we are massing along the western edge of Du Weldenvarden, where we shall prepare to siege the city at any moment's notice. It has been a long time since any elf besides you and your fallen companions—Faolin and Glenwing—have fought, Arya but we are prepared to aid the Varden in this endeavor even at the costs of our lives and the lives of those dear to us."
Arya bowed her head, "In that reason mother, I've come to understand long ago."
"Arya—" her mother spoke as if it pained her.
"No matter, mother, it is our duty," said Arya as she lifted her head to gaze at her mother once more. This time, Islanzadi's brows were lowered over her eyes as if she was facing a bright light that blinded her. She blinked once before her expression returned to an open display of concern and hesitant affection.
"It is our duty," her mother echoed her before she paved onward. "Now what of the report that you wanted to give me?"
"Ah, yes," with that said, she began to recount the events of the battle in detail to her mother who had seated herself in a high chair and listened with rapt attention. First Arya went to explain how Angela had poisoned a numerous amount of soldiers, and her mother having known the herbalist nodded commending her despite her own ideals about honest battle. Then she led into the Varden's preemptive strike which gave them the upper advantage at the opening stages of the battle and how it crippled the Empire's ranks significantly.
She explained how Nasuada and Orrin commanded the soldiers from where they fought. She spoke of how Eragon and Saphira charged the Empire's front lines without fear or concern over their own safety as they forced the Empire into their slow retreat. She recounted how she saw Murtagh, Thorn, and his guards deliver their own blows to their opponents never faltering despite their weariness and exhaustion. She proudly spoke of how Eridor had killed every opponent that they came across with fang or claw or simply fire. She spoke of how Roran and his village had arrived on ship and aided in the defeat of the Empire but destroying the tents of their commanders. She spoke of Eragon's servants and their great aid in protecting Nasuada and slewing the men of the Empire. And last of all she recounted the beast made of rotting flesh and the man named Jeremiah Asburg who commanded Galbatorix's army during that battle and how he was endowed with such great strength and magic despite being a human. By the time she was done, her mother wore an expression of concentration as well as faint disgust no doubt revolted at the thought of a beast created from the rotting flesh of animal or human.
"It would seem," he mother said finally after her report. "That many factors have come into play during your battle with the Empire."
"They have," agreed Arya, watching her mother closely.
"And what of the Varden now and Nasuada?"
"They're in the midst of burying their dead and reorganizing to continue their campaign to invade the Empire," Arya answered. Her mother nodded.
"And what of our riders? Murtagh and Eragon, what is it that they are doing?"
Arya frowned at the sound of Murtagh's name. He as well as Thorn and Roran had departed from the Varden the day after the fighting to fly to Helgrind to rescue Roran's betrothed, Katrina, from the Ra'zac. And though both she and Nasuada were against the idea, Murtagh was adamant in assisting his cousin and after Thorn's irritation with them and a hotly discussed meeting did Nasuada and Arya consent to his decision. Though it was foolish. Explaining it to her mother she watched as her eyes narrowed into a displeased look.
"A foolish quest," she said. "We can only trust in their skill and strength to return to the Varden unharmed."
"Yes,"
"And what of Eragon? Has he decided to partake in any foolhardy adventure as his half brother did?"
Arya shook her head, "He has stayed behind to help assist in healing the wounded and burying the dead, mother." Her gaze flickered to the white rose that stood on a wooden stand that she'd carved on her bedside table and back to her mother again.
"That is pleasing news," Arya nodded, her lips thinning as she thought of a way to tell her mother her personal decision involving Eragon.
Islanzadi's expression grew soft, as she gazed upon Arya, "And what of you Arya?"
"I—" she stopped unable to continue, not knowing how to start. Or where to start. Eventually she continued speaking. "I wish to tell you a decision of mine, mother."
"And pray tell, what is this decision that you wish to tell me?"
Taking in a deep breath and releasing it, she held her mother's gaze with a determine expression and said, "I've decided to take Eragon Shadeslayer as my mate for however long I shall feel affectionately for him."
If her mother had been displeased before, she was outright furious. Her face grew hard, her slanting eyes narrowed and her brows meeting dangerously. But despite her countenance, she spoke in a level tone, "Of all the foolish decisions you could make. You've decided to take him for a mate?"
Arya felt resistance well up in her as well as anger at her mother's statement. "It is not a foolish decision, mother. I've chosen Eragon."
"You chose wrong."
"I have not," denied Arya, her own expression resembling her mother's. "I've thought long and hard about it and I came to the decision that I wished to be with him, for my feelings for him are those beyond mere companionship."
"Your emotions are tinted with Eridor's own feelings for Saphira,"
"They are not!" she took in a deep breath trying to restrain herself from losing composure and started again. "I know well enough what Eridor feels and what I feel. I do not need your counsel on what my heart tells me, mother. Like I did not need your counsel seventy years ago in taking up my post as ambassador."
A flash of hurt came and went on her mother's expression as Arya held her gaze, neither of them backing down from their position. "You are young, Arya. As well as Eragon. You are an elf and he a human. Though your feelings for him may persist, his may not. And you know as well as I that humans change from one fancy to the other. In ten, no five years, his feelings for you can change. Or shall you ignore the story of the Menoa tree?"
Arya frowned, though she had thought of her mother's reason, she didn't let them bother her. "Eragon is more elf than human mother. And both he and I are riders, we shall always be with one another whether in duty or in personal matters. I know him well enough to understand that once he is set upon something, he will not relinquish it with ease."
"You are blinded, Arya!"
"As you are!" replied Arya in the same cutting tone her mother had used. "You've chosen father as your mate and I've chosen Eragon."
"Do not compare your father to Eragon," said Islanzadi dangerously. "Eragon is not fit to be your mate in knowledge, age, and health. He is ill Arya, he can be dangerous."
Her eyes narrowed giving her an evil look. Though she had wished not for her report with her mother to turn into a argument, it was unavoidable for they were both stubborn and each held different views than the other. "Be that as it may, I've still chosen to stand by him as his mate with or without your blessings, mother. I had thought you wished to see me happy."
Her mother's expression softened slightly, but only slightly, "I do wish to see you happy, Arya. But I'm afraid you won't find that happiness in Eragon. Instead, you will find pain and hurt if you are to continue to be with him."
Arya frowned, before holding her head high, "I've decided mother and I do not wish to fight with you over my personal decision. Our own relationship is still healing do not let this tarnish it."
Her mother's emerald eyes burned as they gazed at her but she nodded stiffly, "Very well, you've decided to stand by your decision like you did seven decades ago, ignoring my counsel as you do now. And I've decided to stand by mine, do not regret what your stubbornness shall bring about you, daughter."
Arya's expression hardened, "I shall not regret it, Islanzadi Drottning."
Islanzadi stared at her for a moment her expression strained and hard, before nodding, "As you should, Arya Drottningu. I shall review what you've reported to me."
When it was clear that neither of them wished to say anymore, she bowed her head stiffly, "Farewell, Islanzadi Drottning." The image flickered and then the water returned to its clear surface as she ended the spell. Speaking with her mother had put her in a saddened and angered mood. She'd expected as much but it still hurt to know that he mother did not trust in her decision whether it was seventy years ago or presently.
I shall always stand by you, Arya, Eridor's deep voice rumbled in his head from where he was next to Saphira on the Burning Plains, helping to dispose of bodies. She sighed as she went to sit on her cot, her feet bare as she drew up her knees resting her head on them.
I know and I will always be grateful to you, she replied her thoughts slightly saddened at the pain it caused her to argue with her mother. It had only been recently that they were able to be mother and daughter but now it was being tested again and it was causing their relationship another strain. I had hoped that it would not go badly with my mother but it seems to have anyways.
I'm sure that in time your mother will come to terms with your decision, said Eridor soothingly. Do not let this bother you so.
She nodded again but was unable to keep the hurt she felt at bay. Closing her eyes, she sighed. If you don't mind, Eridor. May I be left alone to my own thoughts for the moment?
He was reluctant at her request but acquiesced. The silence that followed was both painful and soothing. She didn't know how long she sat on her cot thinking to herself but her mind often wandered back to the recent bloodshed and her argument with her mother. The sound of her tent flap being pushed aside warned her to the presence of another. She tensed ready to draw Tamerlein which laid beside where she sat. Until the familiar scent of fresh air and a musky odor drifted to her that was uniquely Eragon. Her muscles relaxed when she heard him lower himself onto her cot before her.
He didn't say anything but his presence was enough to calm her mind and ease her hurt. Like it was when she was captured in Gil'ead, she had always felt safe with him beside her. Now was no different. She smiled humorlessly to herself, Eridor must have sent him to watch over her. After a moment, she heard him unlace his boots before tossing them to the side as if making himself comfortable on her cot. "And here I though you would be using your time wisely to sleep, I would."
Of all the things he could say, she didn't expect this. Amusement fought its way to the surface as she let out a soft snort. A minute passed before she felt his fingers tracing the skin on her feet, curious as to what he was doing, she lifted her head to gaze at him. But he was staring down at her feet instead. "You have rather small feet." Eragon stated. She waited for him to continue. "It's rather odd to realize that for a warrior such as yourself, you have a petite stature."
She tilted her head to stare at him, "I beg your pardon?"
He lifted his head to gaze at her with a faint grin, his brown eyes shining. A wave of emotions swept through her as she held his stare. "You may not see it, but I do. Though you are extraordinarily beautiful and slender, you are also a fearful warrior and dragon rider. It gives you an intimidating aura. As well as a deceptive appearance."
"I see," said Arya as she let his explanation run through her mind.
He nodded, before bringing up his own feet which were by far larger than hers for he was of a taller build and height. "I would say my feet are twice the size of yours." He said placing his left foot beside her right and his right beside her left.
She laughed lightly at his statement and reached down to trace an elegant finger over the skin of his feet. His toes wiggled in response to her touch and he swatted her hand away lightly, "That tickles."
"An odd place to feel ticklish."
"I merely have sensitive feet,"
"Hmm…" Arya stopped, facing him again. "Have you finished with your duties?"
He made an apologetic face, slightly contrite and slightly annoyed, "Rosalie has agreed to help me and I couldn't stand the smell of the carnage anymore. I never realized that my nose was quite that sensitive until I had to carry corpses here and there either to burn or to bury. It's grueling work."
"That it is,"
His expression softened somewhat as he reached out to grip one of her hands in his, "I heard from Eridor about what has transpired between you and Queen Islanzadi. I apologize." She would have been glad if he didn't bring up the subject but he did and there was no use in avoiding it.
"There is nothing for you to apologize for Eragon," she sighed tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It was my decision to make."
"Still, I did not wish for our union to upset your mother," he said as he rubbed the pad of his thumb across the skin of her hand.
"It was bound to happen," said Arya accepting the inevitable, "My mother has always thought that she knew best what I should do in life but I'd refused to acknowledge her counsel for I believe that it is I who know best to live my life."
"As it should be."
"If only it was," she frowned when Eragon released her hand to stand. Following his movements with her eyes, she watched as he slightly stretched before moving to sit beside her instead of before her on her cot. She raised a brow at his slight change in position. "How is that any different than sitting before me?"
"There's a difference, though I enjoy admiring your beauty," he reached forward with his hand bringing her face to him. "I can't reach you as easily." With that said; he bent in and kissed her. She willingly obliged, the last remnants of her argument with her mother slowly fading from her mind as she focused on the pressure Eragon's lips was creating on her own, a warm heat suffusing her body. Letting her hand glide up his arm, his shoulder, and his neck she gently intertwined her fingers in his chestnut hair, keeping him in place as she moved forward slightly.
Almost accidentally, she found herself sitting on his lap with his arm curled around her back. It was an intimate position but after all of the bloodshed recently, she didn't mind for she desired such contact. His other hand rested lightly on her leather clothed knee, content where it was. Though it was Eragon who initiated the kiss, she craved it. With her tongue she pried open his lips and glided her tongue over his teeth and mouth, tasting him like she often did in their time alone when they could manage it. His response to her heated action was just as passionate as his tongue darted out to meet hers. This was a battle different from the one that they had recently fought but just as fierce and passionate. They would break apart for air and then either with a tug of her hand or a pull of his; they would come back together again. Never before in her life had she felt such an intense desire to be with someone, to taste them, and touch them. How dare her mother tell her she was wrong in choosing Eragon. She thought in the recess of her mind but that thought was soon forgotten when Eragon tilted his head slightly allowing her more access to explore his mouth. After a moment, he pulled away from her and she instinctively gasped missing his warmth. Instead he lowered his lips to the base of her neck. She tilted her head back slightly into Eragon's hand that had reached up to cup the back of her head. His tongue lavished his attention on the soft skin there and when his tongue wasn't busy tasting her skin, his teeth was nibbling on it. And it was during this time period that she allowed herself to fully let go of all pretense. When a low sound escaped her lips that was akin to a moan, normally she would never let a sound like that escape but it seemed to send a jolt through Eragon for he would shiver pleasantly when he heard the sound.
Letting him continue to devote his attention to her neck she let herself be lost in his touch and kisses. Much later with Eragon sprawled out on top of her, their lips moving over one another, did she pull away. Trying to sort out her muddled thoughts, she took in a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She heard Eragon let out a breath above her as he bent down to rest his head on her shoulder. Her fingers which was curled in his hair gently messaged his scalp. He murmured something but it was muffled by his head pressed against her shoulder.
Her mind slightly cleared, her question came out somewhat breathy, "What was that Eragon?"
He lifted his head slightly, his eyes meeting hers. "You smell wonderful."
She laughed at his odd statement, "As do you."
"Really?" Curiosity was evident on his expression as he gazed down at her. "I never thought I did."
She nodded and lifted her head slightly to breathe in his scent. "You do."
"At least I know that I do not reek like most do,"
"If you were to reek of sweat and filth, I would not allow you into such a position." Arya said lightly. He glanced down at her with amusement.
"You aren't needed elsewhere are you?"
She blinked taking a moment to process his question before she shook her head, "Not that I know of. And you?"
"Trianna and Du Vrangr Gata can do without me for a day, after all they've led themselves without my leadership before."
Arya nodded, as she brought Eragon's head down towards hers, her lips parting over his as she whispered, "Yes, Trianna can do without you for a day." He murmured a reply but her hearing, as enhanced as it was, lost the words in their passionate kiss.
Returning her attention to Eragon, she felt a sense of happiness wash over her that she had felt scarcely in her life since she'd left Ellesmera and the lush trees of Du Weldenvarden as ambassador to her mother. And then when Faolin and Glenwing had fallen from Durza's ambush, she had thought she could never feel happiness again. But Eragon had brought her happiness. Smiling against his lips, she fought his tongue for control in their intimate battle all the while her heart rapidly beating in her chest, both light and heavy at the same time. This was happiness.
I hope you all liked this chapter. As always when it comes to Arya and her mother, I always have to use my best guess on their characters to portray their interactions as close to CP as I can get. But it was a good chapter and a fun one to write. Anyways, Happy Early New Years again everyone! See you next chapter and maybe next year!