Chapter 13: Can't See the Forest For the Trees.

A knot of the tree was digging into his back, but Eragon ignored it as he had done for the past four hours, he was balanced precariously on the branches that would snap if only the slightest bit more pressure was placed upon them.

He wasn't sleeping well, hadn't been for a while, but it was of little consequence, there were other things to ponder and indeed other things to do, like stargaze, or sky gaze as the case may be.

"Good morning" called Nari, with Lifaen just behind him, appearing on a branch just below where Eragon lay.

Eragon didn't even both glancing at them and kept staring at the blue sky above "What have you two been doing?" he asked, they hadn't slept that night he had noticed.

"We have been keeping watch" explained Lifaen, crouching just below where Eragon and giving the Rider a smile.

"Oh? For what?"

"For my fears" her voice carried throughout the wood and Eragon turned his moody crimson gaze down upon Arya, meeting her emerald green eyes "Du Weldenvarden has many mysteries and dangers, especially for a Rider. We have lived here for thousands of years, and old spells still linger in unexpected places, magic permeates the air, the water and the earth. In places it has affected the animals. Sometimes strange creatures are found roaming the forest, and not all of them friendly."

He smirked "Sounds interesting…" but I was muted, not the usual vicious smile, more a poor reflection of it.

Eragon stiffed, his palm tingled and the hammer on the necklace Gannel gave him grew hot on his chest. He felt he amulet draw on his strength to power its spell.

Eragon dropped down and landed easily on the forest floor before Arya, his hand reached up and wrapped around the hammer pedant.

Arya watched him, waiting, but he didn't speak until the hammer grew cold in his hand.

'It seems our enemies are searching for us' Saphira said, her whole body tensed for combat.

'So it seems.'

"Are you..." Arya began at least.

"Someone just tried to scry me" he told her, cutting of her sentence, and lifting the hammer from his tunic.

Arya frowned "This makes it all the more important we reach Ellesmera quickly so your training can resume. Events in Alagaesia move apace, and I fear you won't have adequate times for your studies."

Only a few more words were spoken, and most of them quick and precise commands as they rushed to leave camp. Once the canoes were loaded and the fire stamped out, they continued their forge up the Gaena River. It wasn't long after that, no more than an hour, that the river grew wider and deeper and just a few minutes after that they came upon a waterfall a hundred feet tall that filled the land around it with the sound of crashing water.

"So now, presumably, we walk?" he asked Lifaen.

"Yes, we have to carry our canoes and supplies for half a league before the river clears."

"Wonderful" Eragon hated walking, then again he hated most things. They pulled the canoes to the shore and untied the bundles wedged between the seats dividing them up between the five of them.

When Eragon hefted his pack, it was almost twice as heavy as what he normally carried and though usually not enough to bother him numerous sleepless nights were taking their toll and so he groaned in discomfort.

'I could carry it upstream for you... all of it' offered Saphira, soaking them all in water as she clambered from the river and shook herself dry.

When Eragon repeated her suggestion, Lifaen looked horrified "We would never dream of using a dragon as a beast of burden. It would dishonour you, Saphira, and you Eragon as Shur'tugal, and it would shame our hospitality."

Saphira snorted, flames spurted from her nostrils and scorched the surface of the river 'This is nonsense' she hooked her talons through the packs shoulder straps and took off, leaping over their heads 'Catch me if you can.'

A single pearl of beautiful, clear laughter broke the silence, like the trill of a mockingbird. Eragon turned his gaze to Arya and looked at her long and hard, it the first time he had ever heard her laugh. She smiled at Lifaen "You have much to learn if you presume to tell a dragon what she may or may not do."

"But the dishonour..."

"It is no dishonour if Saphira does it of her own free will" she asserted "Now, let us go before we waste any more time."

Eragon really didn't like his place carrying the canoe as he was forced to rely on Lifaen to guide him along the trail, he could only see the ground beneath his feet. Eragon hated many things in the world, walking, talking, and drowning to name just three, but being forced to rely on another was one of the major ones.

An hour later and they had topped the ridge and hiked beyond the dangerous white water and to where the Gaena River was once again calm and glassy. Waiting for them was Saphira, who was busy catching fish in the shallows, her triangular head jabbing into the water like a heron.

Arya indicated for both Eragon and Saphira to come over and said to both of them "Beyond the next curve lies Ardwen Lake, and, upon its western shore, Silthrim, one of our greatest cities. Past that, a vast expanse of forest still separates us from Ellesmera. We will encounter many elves close to Silthrim. However, I don't want either of you to be seen until we speak with Queen Islanzadi."

"Oh, and why is that?" asked Eragon yawning tiredly.

'Maybe in the future you should spend more time sleeping and less time star gazing little one' said Saphira, no pity in her voice.

"You presence represents a great and terrible change for our kingdom, and such shifts are dangerous unless handled with care. The queen must be the first to meet with you. Only she the authority and wisdom to oversee this transition."

"You speak highly of her" Eragon commented, remembering her earlier warning of how the queen was erratic and judgemental.

At his words, Nari and Lifaen stopped and watched Arya with guarded eyes. Her face went blank, then she drew herself up proudly "She has led us well... Eragon, I know you carry a hooded cape from Tronjheim. Until we are free of possible observers, will you wear it and keep your head covered so that none can see your rounded ears and know that you are human?" Eragon sighed but nodded "And, Saphira, you must hide during the day and catch up with us at night. Ajihad told me that is what you did in the empire."

'And I hated every moment of it' she growled.

"It's only for today and tomorrow. After that we will be far enough away from Silthrim that we won't have to worry about encountering anyone of consequence."

Saphira wheeled on Eragon 'When we escaped the Empire, I swore that I would always stay close enough to protect you. Every time I leave, bad things happen, Yazuac, Daret, Dras-Leona, the slavers.'

'Don't worry about me babe, I'll always come crawling back to you' he told her with a grin 'Trust me.'

'Very well' she said speaking to Arya as well 'But I won't wait any longer than tomorrow night, even if you're in the middle of Silthrim at the time.'

"I understand" said Arya "You will still have to be careful when flying after dark, as elves can see clearly on all but the blackest nights. If you are sighted by chance, you could be attacked by magic."

His eyes flashed "And any elf who does such a thing will be met by Misery" Arya flinched but nodded, understanding the reference to his wine red blade. Eragon closed his mind the minute he left Saphira in the hollow she found not wanting to draw out either of their suffering.

Throughout the day Eragon kept his head low, looking to the ground and keeping the hood covering his face. He never spoke a word.

It was long after that, during the night when they had sat down to camp with a fire burning in the middle of their group, that he heard it.

It was like a tenuous whisper at thirst, but it soon twisted into a melody that leaped and fell with wild abandon. Eragon felt chills and shivers run down his spine then back up again, and he felt himself begin to rise independent on any conscious thought.

"Eragon! Clear your mind!" Eragon looked over to Arya, still half dazed by the haunting tune "Eyddr eyrenya onr!" silence, complete and utter silence.

Arya spoke but no sound was heard, then, with a pop, he could hear again. But the haunting melody was gone.

"Gerr' off me" growled Orik, LIfaen and Orik removed their hands and backed away.

"Your pardon, Orik-vodhr" said Lifaen.

Arya's gaze turned to Silthrim "I miscounted the days, I didn't want to by anywhere near a city during Dagshelgr. Our saturnalias, our celebratsion, are perilous for mortals. We sing in the ancient language, and the lyrics weace spells of passion and longing that are difficult to resist, even for us."

"Elf" said Eragon, his tone cold and harsh, all turned to look at him "Remove that spell... NOW!" he roared when she made no move.

"Eragon what..."

Completely ignoring Orik Eragon poked his finger just under Arya's neck "Now" his voice was gentler, calmer, but all the more deadly.

"Promise me, you will not run straight to Silthrim" she said, slowly and carefully.

"I won't" he didn't even realise he was speaking in the ancient language when he spoke, his mind so desperate to hear the music.

Arya gazed for several moments at his horrific red eyes, then incanted something and the music could be heard again.

Eragon sank down by a tree, keeping his head even lower than before.

"We should be at a groove" said Nari stirring restlessly. He kept half an eye on Eragon, but the other was focusing on the source of the music somewhere out there in the woods.

"We should" Arya agreed "but we will do our duty and wait."

Eyes watched Eragon carefully as he stood and wandered off, but no one spoke. Eragon knew Nari was following him after several paces, he could hear and smell the elf in the woods behind him, but he cared not. He came to a halt at a river not too far away from camp but out of sight and earshot and sat quietly by its bank.

Crimson red eyes gazed up at the sky, their usual violence clouded over, hazy.

It was three hours later that Nari left, and Arya approached him.

She found Eragon staring into the water, his body tense "Are you alright?"

"Fine" was his low, whisper like response.

"Eragon..." she reached out and tried to touch him arm.

And found herself staring into intense brown eyes "Perfectly fine."

"E-Eragon" she didn't move back, merely stared, for as long as she knew him, his eyes had been murderous crimson, gleaming with insanity and death, but now they were brown, normal brown human eyes.

"It's strange... this music, this place, this world" he said staring back into the water, in awe of his own eyes.

"The Dagshelgr's point is to keep the forest healthy and fertile" she explained still half in shock, never moving her gaze from Eragon "Every spring we sing for the trees, we sing for the plants, and we sing for the animals. Without us, Du Weldenvarden would be half its size."

The forest was alive with activity, a cacophony of yelps and cries filled the trees and bounced off the leaves.

Eragon moved back, Arya's gaze followed him, and she turned herself completely when he went to, and examined a tree directly behind her, by about five paces.

"Arya..." her name was spoken softly, sensually, caringly.

"Yes."

He turned back to her, making sure she could see his human eyes.

Then approached, slowly, tenderly.

He came close to her, very close, to the point where his face was barely a centimetre from her own, then closed the gap.

Their lips pressed together, and Arya didn't know how to react and so she didn't. Shock registered on her face but no action was taken, she neither welcomed nor rejected him.

She leant backwards, forced to from the pressure of his assault. until she leant a tawny hand out and held herself up.

Eragon's eyes opened, his face at an angle, Arya still sat, frozen in place, but Eragon could see it in the reflection of the river.

He pulled away, and slumped back before her, his brown hair hung over his eyes.

Her blank face become stormy in second and Arya stood and made to leave, but then she heard it, a small chuckle "You think that..." she made to lecture him, her voice like rumbling thunder, but a single tear running down Eragon's pale face stopped her dead in her tracks.

Eragon raised his head slightly, letting a crimson eye be seen "It was stupid... but I rather hoped... ha" he laughed humourlessly again, then crawled backwards to tree, and leaned against it, pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around them.

Utterly and completely unsure of what to do Arya stayed where she was.

"I rather hoped that, maybe I could be Eragon again" he stared at his legs, his crimson gaze sombre and broody "But I never will be, I gave away that right."

Her tawny hand reached forwards and touched him gently on the shoulder, and she sunk against the tree next to him.

Eragon's gaze shifted to Arya for a second, but then glared back down to his legs.

They sat there for many minutes, the sounds of the forest and music in their ears the only sound. Neither was willing to break the silence, neither wanted to.

Eragon's head perked up.

"Saphira..." he breathed, feeling her get closer, he hadn't noticed before but she wasn't that far away.

She landed in the river before the pair, it swelled and waves crashed against its bank as sank down, and then it dropped, significantly as she raised herself from the water, scales wet.

'Are you okay?' he asked, sensing... something in her mind.

'The forest... is alive... And I am alive. My blood burns like never before. It burns like yours did in that moment... I... understand!'

Eragon scowled, not realising she had been watching that, but pushed those thoughts from his mind, and tried to focus on helping her, given her clear confusion.

He called her over and she lay next to the tree where the pair sat, Eragon reached out and placed a hand gently on her neck.

Eragon eventually leaned his head back against the tree, and fell into a dark fitful sleep.

"How long can you last?" eyes glowered at him through the darkness "How long can you hold us back? You have done well to hold us as long as you did, but soon Eragon Shadeslayer, soon you will fall before our might."

Eragon didn't respond.

"Do you truly believe you can win, Eragon" his name was whispered tenderly, almost lovingly, but maddeningly as well.

Eragon still didn't respond.

"DON'T IGNORE ME!" a hand slapped his fist and powerful finger squeezed his jaw forcing him to stare up at the crimson eyes, eyes that begged him for attention "Don't ever ignore me" the tone was pitiful, like the whining of a kicked dog, like a pleading child, like a man begging his lover not to leave.

"Legion" Eragon whispered slowly "I am Legion."

Legion smiled its teeth flashing "Give in Eragon, just give in."

Light penetrated the darkness and Eragon woke up.

He was leaning on a soft shoulder with a cascade of raven coloured hair covering his head and blocking his vision. Eragon shifted his head, shaking some of the hair from his eyes, and looked up at Arya, who sat, fair and beautiful, unbothered by his presence on her shoulder.

"Sorry" he yawned lifting his head from her shoulder regretfully, wishing he could stay there for longer, but unwilling to test her limits today.

Arya accepted his apology with a nod, but didn't look at him, and Eragon attention turned to Saphira, to distract himself from last night's problems.

'Are you okay?'

'The fever has passed, I am myself again' she said, but her tone was unsure and almost, nervous 'Such things I felt... It was as if the world were being born anew and I was helping create it with the fire in my limbs.'

'Do you want to talk about it?'

'Do you?' she responded in all seriousness, it wasn't a rebuke it was a true question 'I will need time to understand what I experienced' she said finally, after hearing only his silence.

Arya left them and returned to camp, leaving Eragon and Saphira alone, and they sat simply enjoying each other's company.

'I don't know why I did that' Eragon told her, almost two hours later 'I just did. It was like I needed to, like it was the only way I could keep living, the only way I could be free... like it was the only thing that mattered in the whole world.'

Saphira carefully considered her response, not wanting to offend him as he exposed what was clearly a weakness 'Perhaps you should apologise to her... and explain what happened. I realise it may be... unnerving for you, but surely it is better than her anger.'

'She might even know' he said, remembering that Arya hadn't pushed him off when he slept on her shoulder, she hadn't walked away when she saw him crying, and she had told him that she was going to get Lifaen and Nari to bring them horses before going when he woke, meaning she wasn't just leaving to escape him.

'That is probable, but sometimes it is best if one explains, and there, hopefully, won't be any tension between you two if you do explain, whilst if you don't she only has an assumption.'

Eragon nodded in agreement, but if he was completely honest, he wouldn't change what he had done. He wouldn't not kiss her if he could.

"Eragon" it was Orik, who sat down by him sighing heavily "Thank god last night's ruckus is over, I couldn't get a wink of sleep."

Eragon shot him an easy smile, a smile he didn't feel.

"Ah, magic, eh" he said the word like it was a curse "No offence to you of course, but I really don't like magic when it corrupts my mind and controls my will."

Eragon nodded again.

"You alright there?" Orik noticed his lack of sharp barbs and glanced at the rider some concern in his flinty eyes.

Eragon blinked at the question and shrugged "Well enough, brother."

Orik chuckled at the familiar title "Tell me, how did you stand that magic, brother? All I wanted to do was run and run until I found its source and then… I don't know what then."

"I'm no mortal, my little friend" Eragon patted him on his helmed head, earning and grunt of annoyance from Orik "I will live on and on, till the Beors have crumbled, till Alagaesia fades, till the sun dies and the sands of time themselves run out, and oblivion has taken all."

"Sad life" said Orik, after considering them statement.

"Immortality is viewed as a gift, but by those who hold it, it is a curse. Forever will mortals pursue it, and forever will immortals loathe it."

"Aye."

There was a long and depressing silence between the two.

"Orik?"

"Yes" said Orik, happy for more conversation as the silence was too sombre for his tastes.

"Will you teach me the dwarven language as we travel?" Orik blinked in shock "It can only help to know the language of my own clan. I won't constantly ask you for translations and people will no longer be able to talk with the security of me not understanding."

"I will... but are you sure you want to. You do have other studies to do."

"Not now I don't, know I've only got to travel and you can teach me on the road or around the campfire, we'll take a break when we finally reach Ellesmera and then I can decide whether or not to continue, depends on how much time my other training will take."

"I suppose" Orik nodded "Yes, yes I will" he stood beckoning Eragon to follow "Come on, we best get back to camp, those two elves will hopefully be getting back soon."

Lifaen and Nari already were, and with them came six white stallions, each slightly smaller than a pony.

"They're rather noble, aren't they" said Eragon, tentatively touching one, with both his palm and his mind. It didn't flinch away, despite his insane crimson eyes, despite the strangeness of his mind. It was cautious, true, but not unfriendly.

"Yes, they are. We have bred them for many centuries."

"Without a saddle, how do you ride?" he asked, noticing the lack of harness or saddle on their backs, he had only heard comments about riding a horse bareback, and it didn't sound fun.

"An elf horse responds instantly to commands in the ancient language" Arya and Eragon shared a longer than casual look before she continued "Tell it where you wish to go and it will take you. However, do not mistreat them with blows or harsh words for they are not our slaves but our friends and partners. They bear you only so long as they consent to. It is a great privilege to ride one."

Eragon examined the stallion, and was instantly reminded of Snowfire, he sighed glumly and tuned back into Arya's explanation.

"I was only able to save Saphira's egg from Durza" Eragon suppressed a wince, a sharp pain striking in his head like a knife through the skull "because ours horses sensed that something was amiss and stopped us from riding into his ambush... They won't let you fall unless you deliberately throw yourselves off, and they are skilled in choosing the safest, quickest path through treacherous ground. The dwarves' Feldunost are like that."

"Right you are" grunted Orik "A Feldunost can run you up a cliff and down without a single bruise. But how can we carry food and whatnot without saddles? I won't ride while wearing a full pack."

Lifaen lifted a pile of leather bags in his hand a indicated to the sixth horse "Nor will you have to."

"This is Folkvir" said Nari after they had sorted out the supplies and Nari had instructed them in the words they could use to direct the horses.

Ganga fram, to go forwards. Blothr, to stop. Hlaupa, if one needed to run and Ganga aptr to go back.

"Hold out your hand" Eragon lifted a palm and the stallion snorted, flaring his nostrils. Folkvir sniffed Eragon's palm, then touched it with his muzzle and allowed Eragon to stroke his thick neck "Good."

Nari went over to help Orik as Eragon mounted.

Saphira approached him as he did so, looking troubled 'Just one more day.'

'Eragon...' she paused, as if fearful of telling him 'I thought of something while I was under the influence of the elves' spell, something that I have always considered of little consequence, but now looms within me like a mountain of black dread. Every creature, no matter how pure or monstrous, has a mate of their own kind. Yet I have none' she shuddered and closed her eyes 'In this regard, I am alone.'

Eragon stared at her, only now, at her weakest, did she truly show that she was only eight months old, barely a child. Her hereditary instincts often suppressed, or at least lessened, her youth and inexperience, but in this matter she truly was a child.

'Galbatorix still has two dragon eggs. You said to Hrothgar you want to rescue them, if we can...'

She snorted bitterly 'It could take years, and even if we do retrieve the eggs, I have no guarantee they would hatch, nor that they would be male, nor that we would be fit maters. Fate has abandoned my race to extinction.'

'Well... there's always Shruikan' she snorted, but it was only temporary humour as soon her doubts filled her again 'Don't forget about Oromis, nor Glaedr. Glaedr might not be a fit mate for you Saphira, as he will be your teacher, but perhaps afterwards... and there must be dragons elsewhere in the land, just as there are Urgals, human and elves, the moment we are free of our obligations, I'll help you search for them. All right?'

'All right' she sniffed, craning her head and releasing a puff of white smoke that dispersed among the braches overhead 'I should know better than to let my emotions get the best of me.'

'Everyone's emotions get the best of them at some points, whether lost in throes of passion or caught in the raging storm of anger. Trust me, I know that better than most' Saphira winced, anger, Eragon had given into it and Legion had taken control, that vicious monster had emerged, all because his emotions got the better of him 'And you're not alone, there's me. I am more than your mate, more than your friend, more than your comrade or your ally, I am all of them, and far more besides' their eyes met 'Remember that.'

'I always will, my love.'

He offered her a smile, rather liking her new way of referring to him 'Saphira, promise me something. Don't dwell on this while you're alone, think of meat and mead, battles and blood, fights and flights, just don't stew in your misery.'

She fixed one giant sapphire eye on him 'I won't.'

Leaning against Folkvir's neck, Eragon was waiting for a good moment to talk to the raven haired elf.

After a minute he saw it. Orik, Nari and Lifaen were all slightly ahead of him, Arya was almost exactly to his right, so he got Folkvir to move over to her.

She gave him a single glance, then started to speak, but Eragon placed a hand on her thigh, and looked at her, whispering "Wait."

Nari, Lifaen and Orik soon pulled further ahead and Eragon started speaking.

"I'm sorry, about before" Arya didn't speak "I… I lost control, I wasn't myself and I am sorry" 'But I'd do it again' but he suspected that she would not appreciate that and so kept quiet.

She met his eyes but looked away soon after, nodding just once.

Nari looked back at them, made to open his mouth but shut it soon afterwards.

"We're talking about my first kiss Nari" Eragon explained, casually shifting his head on Folkvir's neck, patting the horse gently.

Arya stiffened and Nari and Lifaen glanced between the two.

"Oh? Was it a pleasurable experience?" Nari asked slowly.

"No, my tongue was ripped from my mouth, had to completely re-grow it" three eyebrows were cocked at him while Arya stared incredulous "But I suppose that's why you should never kiss a dragon. They have barbed tongue you see, it's really painful."

The eyebrows didn't go down and remained raised.

"Still at least I learned that I, apparently, taste very good. And that has to be a plus."

Eragon hated the forest. The endless tree trunks and meagre underbrush became tedious and his flights with Saphira provided no respite as only rolling hills of prickly green were revealed to him, and a ginormous sea of trees spread out before him.

He loathed the rain and how it would drip on branches a steady constant and annoying sound, he grew sick of the sun and how hot and oppressing the forest would become, it wasn't even a good heat like sunlight burning on your skin, it was a sweaty, musty heat, like bodies packed together in a confined area, and most of all, he truly, utterly and completely hated the fucking trees.

His only respite was learning the dwarven language, which was something Orik enjoyed teaching him, presumably because it gave him a break from the constant trees as well. Most of the time on horseback and around the campfire was filled with small conversations in dwarven, as Orik taught him phrases and specific words as well. Nari and Lifaen often listened to the pair with interest, and occasionally asked Orik questions about the language, which he happily answered.

Soon Eragon could hold fair conversations in the language, though in the long run it wasn't too good as he often stumbled and got a word wrong, more than once he had insinuated, quite accidently, that Orik's mother had haemorrhoids, at least 'accidentally' according to Eragon. Of course after the first time it didn't looked quite so accidental.

Thankfully Orik only laughed at that and said "If you can insult in the language, then you have a pretty good grasp of it. And if you can insult without meaning to, then you are truly gifted."

"You know" said Eragon approaching a tree "These trees are pretty big."

"Big, he says, they're bloody massive" muttered Orik, the one Eragon stood before had a girth of seventy feet and was over two hundred tall.

"It means that we are near Ellesmera" Arya told them stopping by a tree and placing her hand on its trunk, as if touching, with consummate delicacy, the shoulder of a friend or lover "These trees are among the oldest living creatures in Alagaesia. Elves have loved them since first we saw Du Weldenvarden, and we have done everything within our power to help them flourish."

Leaves shifted in the wind overhead and a faint blade of orange light pierced the canopy and limned Arya's arm and face with liquid gold, dazzlingly bright against the murky background.

"We have travelled far together, Eragon" she directed her words to him now "But now you are about to enter my world. Tread softly, for the earth and air are heavy with memories and naught is as it seems... Do not fly with Saphira today, as we have already triggered certain wards that protect Ellesmera. It would be unwise to stray from the path."

Eragon glanced to her, then over at Saphira 'You hear?'

'Yes, there is plenty of room for me on the ground now. I will have no difficulty.'

It was late in the afternoon that the first exciting thing in days finally happened. An elf, sheathed in a ray of light, garbed in flowing robes with a circlet of silver upon his brow, stood before them, his face was old, noble and serene.

"Eragon" murmured Arya "Show him your palm and your ring."

Lifting his right hand, whilst maintaining his lounging position on Folkvir's back, Eragon first displayed Brom's ring, then the silver diffused oval on his palm.

The elf smiled, closed his eyes, and spread his arms in a gesture of welcome. He held the position.

"The way is clear" said Arya. With a soft command her steed moved forward. They rode around the elf, like water parting at the base of a weathered boulder.

When all had passed, the elf straightened, clasped his hands, and vanished as the light that had illuminated him ceased to exist.

'Who is he?' said Saphira, speaking directly to Arya.

"He is Gilderien the Wise, Prince of House Miolandra, wielder of the White Flame Vandil, and guardian of Ellesmera since the days of Du Fyrn Skulblaka, our war with the dragons. None may enter the city unless he permits it."

'I wonder if he could stop me' Eragon mutter to Saphira.

'I think it's best not to try little one.'

Eragon yawned and looked around, then blinked 'Are you seeing what I'm seeing?'

'Yes little one, it's like nature itself grew for the elves' the trees around them had grown into elaborate twisting buildings, at first one wouldn't notice perhaps think it was a glen where deer might bed for the night, but Eragon was not normal.

His eyes easily tracked movements but even he, at first only caught glimpses, a hand, a foot or half a face. But soon the inhabitants of Ellesmera revealed themselves. They were all beautiful, the women had long hair of silver and sable. The men were just as striking with high cheekbones and finely sculpted noses.

Both were garbed in rustic tunics of green and brown, fringed with dusky colours of orange, russet and gold.

'The fair folk indeed' he said, eyeing the beauty of all the elves that soon surrounded them, regardless of gender they were all fair and noble, more beautiful than any mortal.

"Ganga" Eragon looked over to Arya who had spoken to her stallion "Release you steeds as well. We have no further need of them and they deserve to rest in our stables."

Cheers rang out, elves burst into song and merriment as the party walked through the city. They laughed, they praised Saphira, they jumped, they played reed pipes, and they stood atop tall branches to look down upon the group.

"You elves do like your trees" he said, to Nari, Lifaen and Arya glancing around. More fucking trees, wonderful.

"Indeed we do" said Nari.

"As I thought, you're a bunch of tree hugging lunatics."

"Tree huggers?"

"There is an adult version of that."

"Oh, would you please tell us?" asked Lifaen looking at him curiously.

"You're a bunch of tree fucking lunatics."

"I don't suppose" said Arya trying not to sigh "That you are going to consider not insulting my race now that you're in our greatest city."

"Nope! Insult is my middle name" said Eragon with a bright smile.

"I thought it was honour" muttered Orik.

"I thought you'd changed it to rudeness" said Arya.

"And now I've changed it again, any problems?" there weren't any, Lifaen and Nari only smiled, apparently spending much more than a day with Eragon made you used to his personality, Orik just chuckled and nodded, and Arya just sighed again. No one noticed, besides Eragon, the slight sag of relief in her shoulders. Relieved at what though? His antics? Or being here in Ellesmera? The question remained.

"How do you do that?" he asked pointing to the strange tree house, literally a tree house, dwellings.

"We sing to the forest in the old tongue and give it our strength to grow in the shape that we desire. All our buildings and tools are made in that manner" Arya answered following his finger.

Eragon continued looking around with his regular level of casual boredom. Unfortunately he was interested, and so interested that he barely noticed the net of roots that formed steps at the end of the paths, and nearly tripped on them. Imbedded within a wall of saplings at the top of the steps was a door.

It swung opens of its own accord, revealing a hall of trees behind it. Hundreds of branches were merged into one forming a honeycombed ceiling.

Twelve chairs were arrayed along each wall, and in them sat twenty four elf lords and ladies.

Wise, handsome, unmarked by age and with keen eyes that gleamed with excitement, they leaned forwards, gripping the airs of their chairs, and stared at Eragon's party with open wonder and hope.

These elves had swords on their belts, unlike the others in Ellesmera, and circlets adorned their brows.

At the head of the assembly stood a white pavilion that sheltered a throne of knotted roots, upon it sat Queen Islanzadi.

She was as beautiful as an autumn sunset, proud and imperious, with two dark eyes brows that slanted upwards like upraised wings. Her lips were as bright and red as holly berries and midnight hair was bound beneath a diamond diadem. Her tunic was crimson, round her hips hung a girdle of gold and clasped at the hollow of her neck was a velvet cloak that fell to the ground in languid folds.

Despite her imposing countenance, the queen looked fragile as if she concealed a great pain, and, like all fragile things in the world, Eragon felt the dark desire to break her.

On a curved rod with a chased crosspiece sat a white raven, shuffling impatiently. It cocked its head and surveyed Eragon with uncanny intelligence, then gave a long low croak and shrieked "Wyrda!"

"Hello to you too" Eragon muttered quietly, recognising the word 'Fate' and not liking its implications. He was here because he chose to be, fate played no part in it, other peoples will and actions did play a part, but not fate.

The door closed behind them and the party of six approached the queen.

Arya knelt of the moss covered ground and bowed first, followed by Lifaen, Nari and then Orik. Even Saphira, who had never bowed to anyone, not Ajihad or Hrothgar, lowered her head.

But Eragon remained standing, earning nervous looks from Nari and Lifaen.

However the queen ignored him as she stood and descended from the throne, her cloak trailing behind her. She stopped before Arya, placed a trembling hand on her shoulder and said in a rich vibrato "Rise."

Arya did so and the queen scrutinized her face with increasing intensity, as if she were trying to decipher some obscure text.

Eragon started humming a jaunty tune to himself to pass the time.

At last Islanzadi cried out and embraced Arya, saying "O my daughter, I have wronged you!"

'Wait, what?!'


I can't think of anything witty or amusing or insane to say, so I'm gonna end it here.

Review if you want to.

Toodles.