And so another day, another chapter...Is this another filler chapter? Maybe or...maybe not. I find myself thinking of how to better progress to the ending that I want and sometimes end up surprising myself. I don't make sense do I? Hehehe. Anyways, I was free today and decided to write this chapter. Lately everywhere I go I bring my laptop (since I'm working on a project and my own novel). So I just pulled up word and began typing away. Enough of my rambling here's the next chapter everyone. RR.
From the Crags of Tel'naeir, the four of them made their way through the dim caverns of the forest to the tunnel of dogwood trees that led to the open atrium in the center of Rhunön's house. As they emerged from the tunnel, Eragon could hear the hammering of a chisel. Coming into his line of sight was Rhunön sitting on the bench of the open-walled forge in the middle of the atrium. He watched as she hammered away with the chisel at the heavy block before her. It certainly didn't look like any sort of art to him. Then again, it looked as if it was a new project that she was undertaking.
"So the two of you are still alive," said Rhunön not bothering to glance up at them else she might cause a mistake in her work. Though her attitude reminded him of any elf, he wasn't bothered that she deemed her life's work more important than him. It was a refreshing attitude. However annoying it may seem at times. "I was told by Oromis that you're in need of a true rider's sword."
At least she was brusque as always thought Eragon as he watched her chisel with inhuman speed. "My other sword snapped as I was fighting on the Burning Plains," Eragon explained to her, he was sure that she was going to attack with the chisel as she glanced up from her work.
"Had you used it correctly in battle your sword would not have snapped so easily especially since it was not pit against a rider's sword," she frowned as if displeased with him, "Serves you right. A waste of a sword and a beautiful one at that."
Eragon stared at her. There were plenty of things that he wanted to say but before he could it was Arya that spoke, "Rhunön-elda, rather than volleying words back and forth, we've come to ask a request of you."
"I know what it is that you want of me and I'm afraid that I cannot provide it for you," said Rhunön looking as if she lost her earlier spirit. It was quick how the mention of her lost work could drain her of her energy.
"Because of the oath that you swore?" asked Eragon as he walked towards the heavy block on the ground studying it. What was she trying to craft he wondered as he reached out to touch it. The moment he did place a finger on the block, her hammer came flying down on his fingers once more. Gritting his teeth as he clutched the same three broken fingers that she'd crushed before, he turned to her his eyes blazing, "I asked you to forge me a sword not redo my fingers!"
"And I've told you never to touch the work of another's!" retorted Rhunön with a deep scowl. He was content to glare at her but then something began to happen with his fingers. A green light wrapped around his injuries healing the bones and skin. He glanced at Arya. Did she do that? But she merely shook her head. Her magic acted on its own?
Rhunön didn't seem the least bit interested but continued, "And even if I want to forge you a new rider's blade, I lack the required materials to do so. Had the rider's blade been constructed of any metal, it would be a much easier task to carry out. However, they are not. My finest works are not made from metals of this world but from the ore of a shooting star that had fallen to the forest centuries earlier. By chance I stumbled upon the ore and returned it to my forge where I worked and experimented with it. When the time came that I was asked to forge the first rider's blade, I did so using that type of ore, brightsteel I call it. That was how I was able to forge a blade that was stronger, harder, and more flexible than any other. Since the last rider fell, I've search far and wide for the brightsteel but found none and without any procured this conversation is just useless blather."
"And if I found you this brightsteel you will consider making me a rider's sword?" asked Eragon with a raised brow.
Rhunön's eyes narrowed, "If you can find me the materials I require than we might begin to consider a sword for you."
"I shall hold you to that," said Eragon turning away from her, "Violent elf…"
At his words he felt amusement emit from Arya as the dragons snorted. Saphira nudged him as they walked toward the glade where they could take off and make for the Menoa Tree. Careful if you make anymore jabs at her she may not forge you a sword.
Eragon merely snorted, "She would just smash my fingers once more," he glanced at Arya, "Why didn't you warn me?"
"I had thought you would have learned from your last experience in her forge," she answered her emerald eyes sparkling. He merely grunted. If only his memory was that reliable. He climbed onto Saphira as she winged her way to the Menoa Tree. If worst comes to worst, they may have to use violence to awake the old tree. Its consciousness didn't seem like it was intent on paying attention to anything but the sun and rain.
With a faint whisper of wind, the dragons alighted upon a root several hundred feet from the base of the Menoa Tree. Whatever you do, do with caution, said Eridor as he followed them to the tree. Do with caution. What was there to do? With ease, Eragon slide down onto the root with Arya beside him. With nimble grace, the two of them ran up the root to the tree trunk with the dragons carefully and cautiously following their large mass splitting and cracking the bark they trod on.
Now how did one wake a slumbering elf-tree? He thought about it for a moment as he stood near the base of the tree trunk staring at the ancient tree. Arya seemed just as lost, she turned to him, "Whatever we do we can't resort to violence, the Menoa Tree is much more powerful than we are and she will not take to any sort of offence lightly."
Eragon snorted, "Seeing how she stabbed to death her lover I would think so," said Eragon dryly. Arya merely sent him a look that told him that he should watch what it was that he said. His lips thinned but he did as she warned. Facing the tree, he placed a hand against its bark. First and foremost, he had to awaken her consciousness. She may be a tree but she was an elf before that.
Summoning all of his resources Eragon flung a mental shout at the tree hoping that it would listen to his plea. But to no avail, it did not work. He continued knowing that defeat should not always mean that he should abandon his task. On several occasions Saphira, Arya, and Eridor combined their strength to awaken the Menoa Tree.
It was useless.
He growled feeling frustrated. Eragon…He heard Arya's warning in his mind and took in a deep breath. If he attacked the tree it would be their downfall. But how useless was this elf-tree? He understood that the spirit of what was once Linnea was saddened by her sins but she could at least awaken when they needed her help.
"Now is not the time for anger Eragon," whispered Arya as if afraid to disturb the peace.
"If only there was a way to dig underneath her roots," said Eragon frustrated. "It would be but an easy task to let the dragons burn away the wood…but it would cause more to offend your people rather than accomplish our task."
Arya nodded trying to placate him with her emotions, their minds still connected and touching that of the Menoa Tree. He could feel her soul resonating within his spreading waves of calm feelings upon him. He was impatient and she knew that more than anyone else. That was why he was willing to share such a bond with Arya because she understood him and everything about. He was willing to sacrifice everything for her. His entire being if he was called upon. Just as the thought was crossing his mind something happened.
A thick cloud of water droplets fell to the ground hitting both him and Arya. The dragons started in surprise as the branches of the pine began to tremble reacting to something that he couldn't see. Had she finally awakened? Trying to maintain his footing he blinked when he heard the groan of wood rubbing against wood filled the air. The trees that ringed the clearing seemed taller and more angular as if trying to close them in.
Had he done something to anger the Menoa Tree?
He blinked as a root as thick as his arm came out and wrapped itself around his left ankle immobilizing him. He glanced behind to find Arya free of imprisonment. Had he done something? Saphira started forward her jaw open ready to send a blazing torrent of flames on the trees but Eragon shook his head. Whatever was happening, he didn't do anything to harm the Menoa Tree and was certain that it wasn't going to harm him unless he struck first.
That feeling…it is a strange feeling, a voice sounded in their minds. It was a slow, whispering voice that reminded Eragon of rustling leaves. The voice continued, Who are you? What are you? Why are you here? To mock me?
Mock her? He blinked. Had he done something to scorn her? I am Eragon Shadeslayer and this is the dragon with whom I am bonded Saphira Brightscales.
I feel the presence of another within you, one with you.
She meant Arya? He glanced at his mate, she spoke cautiously. Whatever it was that stirred the Menoa Tree, they had to be careful for it seemed like the spirit of the tree acted on whim and without discrimination. Whether or not he was a dragon rider or the most vile criminal in Alagaësia he was sure she would treat him the same.
I am Arya Dröttningu and this is the dragon with whom I am bonded Eridor, Arya continued speaking directly to the Menoa Tree. We reached out to you in hopes that you would awaken from your slumber. Have we done anything to cause you any affront?
The crown princess of Ellesmeŕa. I can sense that you are noble of heart and strong in spirit, however you are foolish in emotion, the Menoa Tree spoke though it's voice a whisper in their minds Eragon still felt the insult behind her words. Arya was cautious and unmoved.
You speak of my choice of mate are you not?
He will betray you, the voice sighed. Now Eragon was getting annoyed. If it weren't for the fact that Saphira was warning him to stay silent and that Arya kept placating him with her emotions he would've spoken up without paying heed to manners. Scorn and spurn you. He will abandon you.
Why that tree—!
Eragon let Arya speak, said Saphira intently, he glared at his dragon, she may be insulting you but this is a conversation between the hearts of women. You will do well to hold your tongue.
My rider shall handle the Menoa Tree Eragon, Eridor's voice rumbled in his mind. She knows eloquence and how to handle such situations.
I believe you've mistaken our bond, said Arya ardently as if just annoyed as he was with what the Menoa Tree said about him. He saved me and for that I will always be grateful to him. I understand our difference in age, race, and beliefs but that doesn't mean we can't overcome it. I've accepted him.
I can feel him within you, whispered the Menoa Tree. Your bond…
I chose to use my soul as a bridge to save him, answered Arya in response to the Menoa Tree's curiosity. He is a part of me as I am a part of him. You understood the great feelings of love before haven't you Linnea-elda?
The branches moved past each other and the leaves rustled at the use of a long abandoned name. I am her no more. I am the forest, the embodiment of what I love and hold dear. You said you will sacrifice for her.
This time the tree spoke directly to him. I did, said Eragon
Do you think that is the way to love someone? The tree was curious. Had it forgotten the feelings of love? Or did it merely choose not to remember?
Rather than sacrifice, I want to protect her and the only way I can do that is if I can have the ore beneath your roots, said Eragon waiting on baited breath for her response
You know what you speak of, there is indeed a nodule of brightsteel ore buried at the very edge of my roots, but I want to see…
See? He blinked as the root on his ankle tightened the ground underneath him opening up to form a pit. Instantly he was dragged down into the pit the roots of the Menoa Tree closing in on him blocking out the light. He was being buried alive? He was about to claw his way up but roots from beneath the dirt came out to grip him.
He tried to reach out to Arya and the dragons but found that his mind was blanketed. Was the Menoa Tree trying to suffocate him alive? Was this a test? The only thing indicator that he was alive was his beating heart and Arya's emotions whirling about within him. He felt her worry and her anger at the Menoa Tree for treating him as such.
Is this a test?
Seconds passed and it felt like minutes to him and minutes to hours. It was so dark. He felt like he was suffocating. Like he was dying. Was this how the dead felt? To be buried underground. To be so close to the Earth. He felt the bugs crawling towards him, latching onto his skin as if to take back what was rightfully part of Alagaësia.
Am I rotting away?
He found it hard to breathe. The ground was restricting, the branches that imprisoned him made it hard for him to think clearly. Magic, he could use magic to make his way up but the moment it crossed his mind he felt a strong presence press down in his mind suffocating him. Smothering his senses. This was how it felt like to be dead no doubt. This darkness, it wasn't strange to him, it felt familiar like he had visited it before. Of course he had. A great part of his life before he joined the Varden all he could remember was darkness. The dark cell he was locked away in. The dark training under Galbatorix. The darkness of his helm that he wore.
I'm not afraid of the darkness…I just hate it.
…Because it's too familiar.
…Because it made the light seem so bright.
As he laid there, he tried to focus on his emotions swirling within him. A part of him longed for the darkness. Was glad that it was there because it closed him off from the rest of the world but another part of him wanted out. Wanted to be above the ground. Wanted to continued living. He felt her then in that instant, stronger than ever. He felt Arya as if she was right next to him. Her strong emotions, her tender affection, and her blazing determination.
They were connected.
I can't die! Not yet!
The thought suddenly occurred to him as he opened his eyes. I still have to face Galbatorix! Until then, I won't lie down in my grave! He didn't know what caused the Menoa Tree to release him but she did. The roots drew away and the dirt was cleared to shine down on him light. Taking in a deep breath of air, he jumped out of the suffocating pit onto the ground coughing.
Eragon! He heard Saphira's relief echo in his mind as he crouched on one knee inhaling and exhaling rapidly. He felt Arya's hand on his back as she brushed the dirt from his clothes. "How do you feel?" she asked worried.
"Like I was reborn," said Eragon as he stood to face the Menoa tree. The pit that had encased him had closed up hidden by the thick roots. The ground began them shake beneath them as a myriad of roots began to pull apart to reveal another bare patch of dirt. He was wary. Did she plan on burying him again? But out of the patch of dirt emerged a corroded lump of iron.
Here is your metal, whispered the Menoa Tree. Take it and go…
She was giving to him just like that? It was like the world had shifted back to normal. About them the clearing was like it used to with the trees back to their original position, the threatening ring gone. The presence of the Menoa Tree left them disappearing in on herself and her eternal slumber once more. While he was staring at the tree in puzzlement, Arya thanked her.
"She buries me and then gives me the ore," muttered Eragon as he picked up the lump of brightsteel. They started back on foot to Rhunön's house. "How typical of an elf."
Arya snorted not taking offense at his words, "It was a lesson to be learned," he glanced at her hoping that she would explain, "Life comes from death. And she was testing you."
"For what?" asked Eragon with a grumble.
"Your will," said Arya as they walked, "In any case, she didn't really do you any harm."
"Why didn't you help me?" asked Eragon glancing at Arya.
She turned her green eyes to him, "I was trying my best to keep Saphira from starting a fire in the forest." But as she said that he caught a glimpse of her hands which were dirtied from digging in the dirt. He glanced away in case she spotted him staring.
"Where did you find that?" demanded Rhunön as Eragon placed the ore before her feet for her to examine. Not enjoying that he was nearly buried alive for the ore, he told her of what happened. At the end of his story Rhunön burst out laughing, her hoarse voice sounding rather odd to his ears. It was much different from Arya's musical laughter.
"I'm surprised she didn't strangle you alive. It is one thing to scorn a woman but another to mock what she couldn't have," said Rhunön glancing between Arya and Eragon. "Whispers have traveled through the forest since you've returned that the two of you have become mates. I can only assume that it is true after what you've told me."
"So the Menoa Tree was angered that Arya and I are a bonded pair?" asked Eragon. He scoffed in his head. Women…
Arya's eyes darted to him and she raised a brow daring him to repeat what he said aloud. He turned away from her knowing that he was defeated. In his mind he heard Saphira's rumbling laughter. How easily you bow to your elf.
It's not that…Eragon denied
"Anyways, is this the ore that you require to forge me a sword?" asked Eragon moving back to the topic at hand.
"Several swords if my eyes have yet to fail me," said Rhunön studying the ore. She turned to Eragon clapping her hands together in a sort of prayer like way, her eyes gleaming with eagerness and determination. He was wondering if she portrayed any other emotion than annoyance. "You've brought me the brightsteel that I required. Rather than let such a precious metal go to waste, it is time I've made you a sword. One that will speak of your true mark in this world as a dragon rider."
"When will it be done?" asked Eragon. If Rhunön knew how to circumvent her oath, it would no doubt take some time for the blade to be finished.
"When must you return to the Varden?" asked Rhunön.
"As soon as I can," answered Eragon. She nodded her expression of contemplation.
"There is only one way to speed up a process that takes days to complete. Even though I dislike using magic to accomplish something that dedication and skill require, it is needed in this case. We shall not rest until you have your sword Shadeslayer."
He followed Rhunön as she picked up the ore and moved to her bench. Trusting in her, he changed into a jerkin and work apron for the upcoming tasks. "Do you need my assistance?" asked Arya as she stood off to the side watching them.
Rhunön shook her head, "To speed up the process, if you could channel energy into Eragon when he falters, it will prevent our work from being delayed." She nodded and made her to sit on the bench comfortably watching him. The process was tedious. Because Rhunön refused to use magic to build the smelter, they spent a good portion of the afternoon building the complex structure and then another great chunk of time melting the ore by pumping the bellows and shoveling charcoal into the smelter to infuse with the brightsteel. While he was sweating from the heat and exerting himself, he could tell that Arya was enjoying watching him work. She had told him during a short break of his for a drink that she rarely had the chance to see him do physical labor. It was appealing in short.
When they were done with the physical labor, the next step was waiting and he was rather impatient. He joined Rhunön and Arya at the bench to rest as the brightsteel cooled enough for Rhunön to work on it.
"Now what sword would you like to have?" asked Rhunön. "I make the weapon but it is important that the weapon becomes a part of the rider, almost an extension of the arm. For example, Arya's sword, Támerlein is the same length as Zar'roc. However, I'd modified it to be thinner to fit Arya's fighting style more else it would not serve her to the fullest in battle."
"I want to be able to use it in all instances," said Eragon as he thought of the sword that would best fit his fighting style. "Preferably, the same length as Támerlein but not a two handed sword. That would be burdensome in battle. A hand-and-a-half sword perhaps."
"A sword for all occasions…" muttered Rhunön deep in thought. She withdrew a piece of twine and began measuring both his hands and arms, "You're ambidextrous are you not Shadeslayer?"
"I am," said Eragon with a nod as she continued her measurements.
"How do you fight?" asked Rhunön not bothering to glanced up at him.
This Arya answered, "He dual wields Rhunön-elda."
"Two blades? I take it you don't care much for protection," concluded Rhunön. She was right. He didn't need the protection of a shield nor did he want to. He would rather use two swords in a fight instead of one. "Dual wielding has its benefits despite the disadvantage in guard. Most people are unable to fight with two swords however and that is because they lack a fast reaction time in battle. If one is not apt at using two swords, it would come off as clumsy."
"I can hold my own with two blades," said Eragon as she finished. She gestured to his two sword lying off to the side. He'd taken them off earlier when he was required to build the smelter with her.
"Let's see a demonstration," she said. He glanced at Arya. She understood the meaning behind his expression and stood to join him outside of the forge in the open space. He unsheathed his swords and reinforced them with spells to prevent them from breaking and to prevent from causing any harm to his partner. Arya was waiting for him with Támerlein in her hand as he stood to face her. Unlike their usual spars, this one was in a rather enclosed space. It was open but it was limited in that it was not a wide enough clearing for them to freely fight.
Without a second thought he charged at her. A second passed and he was right upon her, his two swords swinging upward. She jumped back, dodging his attack with as much grace as a gazelle as it ran through the open fields. Giving himself some space in order to regain his bearings, he fell back with light jumps. Seeing his retreat, Arya gave chase her green blade flashing in the sunlight. They sparred for a few moments before Rhunön called for them to stop.
"It is time to make your sword," she said.
"How?" asked Eragon glancing around the forge, "Do you by chance have an apprentice of some sort that will make it?"
"Apprentice? I have no time for such things," Rhunön stared at him with a slight smile, "You will be making the sword Shadeslayer."
At her words, Arya laughed as she sheathed her sword, "Meaning you will be guiding his hands to make it. An imperfect solution but one that works nonetheless Rhunön-elda." Eragon glanced between the two of them unsure of what was transpiring.
Later on as Rhunön had taken his mind into her, he felt rather awkward. Could she see everything? His thoughts flashed to Arya and in an instant, he immediately pushed them away. No, if he didn't think of it then she wouldn't see it. Or that was what he thought anyways. His arms and legs moved according to her bidding. It was a good thing that he had the comfort of Arya's emotions within him for he found it extremely difficult to give up command of his body to the elf woman. But he had to trust her else he would never have a rider's blade.
Letting her go about her craft with his body, he was tempted to argue with her when she accidentallyhammered his fingers. The very same ones she hammered twice before. But before he could complain, the same green mist came forth from nowhere and healed his fingers. This was…
Pay attention said Rhunön as she continued to work with his body.
He snapped to as she made him work endlessly on the sword. He forged, hardened, and tempered the blade. And when that was done, he polished the blade a task which would usually take a week but was shortened due to the magic that was used to craft the blade of the sword. When they were done and he was released from her hold, he nearly fell over from exhaustion. Pulling himself together, he sent Rhunön a questioning look as she cradled the blade like a new born babe to her bench to continue her work.
"Am I done?" asked Eragon.
"You are but I've yet to finish," said Rhunön not paying him any mind, "Good and rest. I'll call for you when the sword is complete. You will find a bed on the second floor of my house." She didn't say anymore. Frowning at her still brusque attitude, Eragon followed her instructions. He passed Saphira and Eridor and bade them good night.
As he made his way to her house, he spoke to Arya, "Will you not rest as well?" asked Eragon. She must be tired from channeling her energy into him when he needed it. She shook her head.
"There is something I would like to ask of Rhunön-elda," said Arya as she reached forward to touch his arms which were coated in sweat. "You need to rest and when you are well rejuvenated, a good wash is in order."
He must look the part of a laborer thought Eragon for her to say such things. "I shall see you when I wake," said Eragon parting from her towards Rhunön's house. The moment he laid down on the soft mattress, he instantly fell asleep.
What could Arya possibly want with Rhunon? Who knows? You'll find out in the next chapter. But good job Eragon, good job. Now to describe how I felt when reading this scene from the actual book. I thought that it was missing plenty considerably. The first is what did the tree really want from Eragon? Never explained as was plenty of other mysteries that CP left for us. I find myself oftentimes frustrated not knowing what was supposed to be. For example what were the seven words Brom told him before he died? What were they? Arghh! Hopefully I can fill in some holes in this story. Anyways, see you all soon!