Hello. How've you been? Do I care? Do you care? Does it matter? No? Then lets move onto the story.
Chapter 14: The First Night.
Eragon stood before the Queen of Elves and her councillors in a fantastical room made from the boles of living trees in a near mythical land with a Dragon to one side of him and a Dwarf to the other… and he grinned.
'I kissed a princess, I kissed a princess, I kissed a princess, I kissed a princess' he chanted in his mind.
'Eragon' Saphira said warningly before moving swiftly on 'It appears we have been travelling with royalty without our knowledge' she mused amusedly.
'Who cares about that, I kissed a princess' and he resumed his chanting.
'Let me remind you that you have also kissed a dragon' she put in.
'Oh, are you jealous? How cute' he teased 'Don't worry Saphy, you're far above any princess. You, my dear, are a Queen, nay an Empress, Empress of the very skies themselves, Monarch of all Dragons… not least because you're the 'last' dragon' he mumbled at the end, yeah you can even mumble in your mind.
'The last part was unneeded, and ignoring all of that, you should perhaps not chant it so. Queen Islanzadi may kill you, that is, if Arya does not' despite all of that she rather appreciated his compliments, if the swelling of pride in her mind was any indication.
'Relax my sweet little sapphire, it's not like I'm going go about shouting it from the roof-err, the treetops. No, no, no, no, no! It's a secret and it'll stay that way, as something I can forever taunt Arya with.'
'You're going to get us both killed, aren't you little one?'
Eragon just smirked and focused his attention back to the mother and daughter.
"Islanzadi Drottning" Arya said formally.
The queen pulled back, as if stung, and then repeated in the ancient language "O my daughter, I have wronged you" she covered her face "Ever since you disappeared, I've barely slept or eaten."
'Notice how she forgets blaming the Varden.'
'Hush my crimson eyed rider.'
''Crimson eyed rider'?'
'What? You called me 'sweet little sapphire'.'
'Ah, touche.'
"I was haunted by your fate, and feared that I would never see you again. Banning you from my presence was the greatest mistake I have ever made… Can you forgive me?"
The gathered elves stirred with amazement. The Queen of Elves, their Queen, asking for forgiveness.
Time passed.
'Arya sure is taking her time with that response.'
'Eragon!'
'Fine, fine, I'll shut up… stupid overgrown lizard.'
Arya finally responded "For seventy years I have lived and loved, fought and killed without ever speaking to you, my mother. Our lives are long, but even so, that is no small span."
Islanzadi drew herself upright, lifting her chin. A tremor ran her length "I cannot undo the past, Arya, no matter how much I might desire to."
"And I cannot forget what I endured."
"Nor should you" Islanzadi took her daughters hand in her own, clasping it "Arya, I love you. You are my only family. Go if you must, but unless you wish to renounce me, I would be reconciled with you."
It seemed for a moment that she would not answer or worse still reject the offer. But Eragon saw Arya hesitate and quickly look at her audience.
'Oh, the manipulative bitch' it sounded more of a compliment than an insult despite the words used and Saphira sent him a questioning thought 'Islanzadi. She's using the crowd to get the answer she wants, that's pure evil genius.'
Arya lowered her eyes and said "No, mother. I could not leave."
Islanzadi smiled uncertainly and embraced Arya again, but this time Arya returned the gesture and smiles broke out amongst the assembled elves.
The white raven hopped on his stand, cackling "And on the door was graven evermore, What now became the family lore, Let us never do but to adore!"
'You know something, I think I like him' Saphira rolled her eyes.
"Hush, Blagden" Islanzadi said to the raven "Keep your doggerel to yourself" she removed herself from the embrace and turned to face Eragon and Saphira "You must excuse me from being discourteous and ignoring you, our most important guests."
Eragon shrugged "Family comes first."
'If Arya glares any harder she's going to burn a hole through your head' Saphira noted 'This is where the manners she taught us are supposed to be used.'
'And the reason why I care is?'
'Well I do' he heard Saphira use the greetings they had learned on the queen, speaking first.
It ticked Eragon off a little, to hear Saphira rank the queen as higher than herself, but Saphira was free to do as she wished.
Islanzadi's eyes widened at the dragon, while the other elves, upon realising that both she and Eragon knew the customs, sent foul gazes Eragon's way, who grinned right back.
"Dragon" said Islanzadi, once she had finished "What is your name?"
'Saphira.'
A flash of recognition appeared in the queen's expression, but she made no comment "Welcome to Ellesmera, Saphira. And yours, Rider?"
Eragon rolled his shoulders before answering "Eragon."
This time there was an audible stir among the elves, even Islanzadi appeared startled.
"You carry a powerful name" she said softly "one that we rarely bestow upon our children…"
"My mother gave it to me" Eragon said carelessly. The meaning didn't matter, it was just a name… just a name… names meant nothing… not to him… that much he had to convince himself of.
Her eyes narrowed at him "Welcome to Ellesmera, Eragon Shur'tugal" she said politely, regardless of what thoughts ran behind that near impeccable visage "We have waited long for you."
She moved on to Orik, greeted him, and then returned to her throne and draped her velvet cloak over her arm "I assume by your presence here, Eragon, so soon after Saphira's egg was captured, and by the ring on your hand and the sword on your hip, that Brom is dead and that your training with him was incomplete. I wish to hear your full story, including how Brom fell and how you came to meet my daughter, or how she met you as it may be. Then I will hear of your mission here, dwarf, and of your adventures, Arya, since your ambush in Du Weldenvarden."
She waited patiently, presuming Eragon was gathering his thoughts, for at least half a minute, then she got testy. And Eragon still didn't speak.
'Eragon would you please just tell her?' Saphira begged, not wishing for the queen's anger to be turned on them.
'Why should I?'
'Eragon!'
'I would be willing to tell her of my adventures… if she asked.'
Ask, not command. 'I wish' not 'Please tell me' there was no question there, Queen Islanzadi just presumed that her wish would be granted.
Saphira sighed, but conceded. This was her rider, a stupid foolish, arrogant twat of a human he may be, but he was hers.
"Rider?" the queen spoke.
"Yeah" Eragon responded.
"Mother!" Arya spoke quickly, drawing the gazes of the room "If I may" after a moment Islanzadi nodded to whatever Arya was going to do and the elf turned to him "Shur'tugal, please relate your experiences since finding Saphira's egg to the assembled" she begged not just with her lips but with her eyes.
Eragon nodded "Alright, will do. But some of its mine, mine alone."
He ignored the darkening stares of the elves as they realised his flippant nature. He demanded to be asked by their Queen, he showed no respect, he did not bow, he did not follow the customs, but then their gazes changed as he started relating his journeys. Whoever he may be, no matter how arrogant he was, elves did love a good tale, especially one they had not heard before.
Saphira oft took the helm in their tale, explaining in greater detail things he skipped over in a few words. He left the telling to her entirely when it came to Brom's death, and fingered the old man's ring throughout the entire tale, and they edited the story of Gilead to him being captured and close to death when retrieved.
Durza's fight was similarly edited, with the small modification of having Eragon stab Durza when the star sapphire was broken.
A single glance to Arya with his crimson eyes made her nod, agreeing with their story.
His injury was completely left out, that was his burden alone, and so was what he was. These elves had yet to prove that they had any right to that information, not that most who knew it had proved they had the right, at least before they knew it that was. Then, with his reiteration finished, Eragon retrieved Nasuada's scroll and tossed it to Islanzadi. The elf queen caught it deftly from the air, peering at it a moment before breaking the wax seal and reading its contents.
"I see now the true depth of my folly. My grief would have ended so much sooner if I had not withdrawn our warriors and ignored Ajihad's messengers after learning that Arya had been ambushed. I should have never blamed the Varden for her death. For one so old, I am still far too foolish…"
Eragon shrugged, which rather summed up everyone's opinion. No one wanted to agree and insult the queen and no one wanted to disagree and insult the queen. Well technically Eragon did want to agree and openly, without hesitation, insult the queen, but Saphira talked him out of it.
"Arya has returned alive… so will you agree to help the Varden, as before? Nasuada cannot succeed otherwise, and I am pledged to her cause" 'And if you answer wrong I'm out of here.'
"My quarrel with the Varden is as dust in the wind" Islanzadi waved her hand as if to swipe away said dust.
'Let's hope they feel the same way' though she didn't say it Saphira agreed with him.
"Fear not. We will assist them as we once did, and more, because of you and their victory over the Urgals" she leaned forward on one arm "Will you give me Brom's ring, Eragon?"
Eragon didn't move for several moments, and when he did it was to lift up his hand and gaze at it, it sat there sapphire glistening on the ring finger of his left hand, while the puzzle ring he received from Orik sat upon the index of the same hand. Tension filled the hall when he made no move to give it to her, only then did he slide it of his finger, eyeing the paler un-dirtied skin below where it had rested, before offering it to the queen on the flat of his palm "I expect it back" he said simply.
The queen said nothing as she plucked it from his palm with long delicate fingers, soft cool skin brushing his own as she did so "You should not have worn this, Eragon, as it was not meant for you…" Eragon made no comment "However, because of the aid you have rendered the Varden and my family, I now name you Elf Friend and bestow this ring, Aren, upon you, so that all elves, wherever you go, will know that you are to be trusted and helped."
Eragon nodded as he took the ring back and slipped it back onto his finger 'Aren, so it has a name' he hadn't known that 'I wonder what they'd do, if they knew I was a Shade.'
'I would not like to know' Saphira said cautiously. Sensing his thoughts and that strange desire to reveal it all, right here, right now, just to see what would happen.
The queen gazed as him long and hard, studying and analysing his every movement, every twitch in his face, ever flexing of his fingers. But when Eragon grinned at her and met her gaze with his own, she finally looked away. Her stare had been intense… his was murderous.
"Such tidings as yours, we have not heard the like of in Du Weldenvarden for many a year. We are accustomed to a slower way of life here than the rest of Alagaesia, and it troubles me that so much could occur so swiftly without word of it reaching my ear."
He bit back his comment, once again restrained by Saphira. It was unlikely that 'Word would've reached if you weren't to deaf to hear' would be taken kindly. But that didn't make it any less true.
Eragon glanced along the row of elves, male and female, that sat behind Islanzadi. But no, none of them were 'the cripple' as Eragon had started referring to Oromis, in his mind obviously. He still hadn't spoken of him to anyone save Saphira "And what of my training?" so he decided to just ask.
"It will begin in the fullness of time."
He bit back a snarl 'Fucking elves, the fullness of time, bah, what a load of shit. They are too accustomed to this 'slower way of life' of theirs, sooner or later someone will slit their throat and they won't notice until they've bled to death!'
'Calm Eragon' Saphira implored 'We have time, all of it, remember?'
Eragon's hands clenched into balled fists 'Doesn't make me anymore patient.'
"It has been long since one of your race entered our halls, dwarf" she spoke now to Orik "Eragon-finiarel has explained your presence, but do you have aught to add?"
"Only royal greetings from my king, Hrothgar, and a plea, now unneeded, for you to resume contact with the Varden" Orik shrugged "Beyond that, I am here to see that the pact that Brom forged between you and the humans in honoured."
"We keep our promises whether we utter them in this language or in the ancient language" was it his imagination or was there a hint of reproach in her voice just then "I accept Hrothgar's greetings and returned them in kind" finally she turned to Arya, as doubltess she had longed to since they first arrived "Now daughter, what befell you?"
Arya spoke in a slow monotone as she recited her capture.
Eragon leaned against Saphira side, toying with the rings on his fingers. He had lost any care at the story after a single word 'Durza.'
'Durza. Or should I call you Carsaib?' he frowned at the rings 'You made me, without you I wonder what I'd be? Without you I'd still be Eragon but… would I have survived? Would I even exist? If you hadn't… if you hadn't…' he brought the rings up to his lips, pressing them against the cool metal finding the gesture comforting 'If I hadn't, what would happen to me? I wouldn't exist, I never would've lived, I would be Eragon but is Eragon me? I don't know anymore' he leant back, staring upwards 'I don't know… if I should hate you or not.'
'Eragon?' Saphira inquired, momentarily she was shut out of his mind, prevented from hearing his thoughts.
Eragon blinked back tears, tears of uncertainty, and grinned at her. He was never uncertain. Durza was, that's all that mattered. Everything had, there was nothing other than that.
'Are you alright?' Saphira asked, cautious at the strange feelings that bubbled over their link, half anger, half grief, loss, loathing, love, hate all intertwined and intertweened into some strange amalgam of them all.
'Yeah.'
He glanced at the elves, no one had spoken save Arya and it seemed only Eragon had ignored her words. They were all still, with cold anger cut across their features. Even Orik look enraged, one hand trembling, the other touching his axe. While a single flawless tear rolled down Islanzadi's cheek.
"I know that I speak for us all" said a lithe elf lord, standing "Arya Drottningu, when I say that my heart burns with sorrow for your ordeal. It is a crime beyond apology, mitigation, or reparation, and Galbatorix must be punished for it."
Eragon resisted the urge to spit to remove the foul taste from his mouth 'Fucking elves' he repeated.
'What is it now?' Saphira asked, only sounding annoyed but genuinely curious.
'If a human came with the knowledge of how to defeat Galbatorix, yet refused to reveal it, do you think the elves would not do the same, torture, mental and physical, starvation, humiliation, all for a 'better' cause.'
'They might not' but it was a weak argument for Saphira knew that she herself would. She would torture and kill to defeat Galbatorix, and indeed had, and so it was all too easy to imagine the elves doing the same, hypocritical though it may seem.
'They would. All creatures, all beings, are out for their own interests. They care little about the needs of others, only content in satisfying their own version of justice. If their justice demands they serve their race, their creed or culture, or their god even, they will. If justice demands they do something unjust, they will.'
'Then who are truly just?' Saphira asked him.
It took Eragon a moment to answer 'No one. There is no justice Saphira. Justice is an ideal and like all ideals it is unattainable, it will be sought and pursued endlessly, but it will never be obtained, only cheap bastardisations of it will ever exist.'
'But without justice, without such a higher cause, why fight?' she thought she already knew, but she wanted to hear it from his mouth, well force to admit it rather because they were speaking mentally and therefore mouths really weren't used much.
'For personal satisfaction. I fight for myself, and my other half of course, if fighting to serve ourselves happens to aid the general populace then… well, that's for them, isn't it? On the other hand if it tortures and murders, rapes and pillages, slaughters mindlessly, then oh well.'
'It is not a very kind way of looking at things.'
'No, it isn't' he agreed darkly 'But honesty isn't kind, Saphira.'
She felt herself smile, her razor sharp teeth flashing 'And that was honesty?'
Eragon shrugged, sometimes it annoyed him who well she knew him, other times it gave him a wonderful sense of closeness, actually it was always a mix of the two 'Mostly.'
She giggled, supressing it in the outside world but laughing freely in her mind which echoed over into Eragon's.
"Also we are in your debt for keeping the locations of our cities hidden from the Shade" the elf continued, it seemed their mental conversation hadn't taken much longer than ten or so seconds, despite its length and difficult subject matter "Few of us could have withstood him for so long."
As Arya responded with thanks Eragon commented to Saphira 'She hasn't. After all the Shade is right here.'
Saphira grinned again.
"Enough" Islanzadi's voice rang like a bell "Our guests wait tired on their feet, and we have spoken of evil things for far too long. I will not have this occasion marred by lingering on past injuries" a beautiful, glorious and arousing smile brightened the queens beautiful face "My daughter has returned, a Dragon and her Rider have appeared…"
'Looks like we're talking about evil things again.'
"… and I will see us celebrate in the proper fashion!"
She, stood tall and magnificent in her crimson tunic, her golden girdle and her cloak of velvet, and clapped her hands twice. At the sound the chair and pavilion were showered with hundreds of lilies and roses that drifted down from far above their heads, like colourful snowflakes caught on the wind. The room was scented by their heavy fragrance bathing them all in the perfume of a thousand flowers.
Eragon sneezed.
While everyone was occupied by the descending, the queen had moved close to Arya and placed a hand on her shoulder. Eragon focused his ears while he wiped his nose "You never would have suffered so if you had taken my counsel. I was right to oppose your decision to accept the yawe."
"It was my decision to make."
Islanzadi paused, her face tightening almost unnoticeably, then nodded sharply and extended her arm "Blagden" the white raven flew from his perch and landed neatly on her shoulder.
'When she says the proper fashion, does she mean a battle tournament?' Eragon asked scratching his itchy nose.
'I doubt that.'
'Communal blood bath?'
'Unlikely.'
'So that means…' Eragon said morosely.
'Yes' Saphira agreed, more than certain that he was now going to be sensible.
'…mass orgy?' and she was steadfastly proven wrong.
'No!'
'So its feasting and festivities' he sighed 'How boring' his eyes gazed at Arya a moment longer before glancing to Islanzadi as she made her across the hall, the rest of the assembly bowing as she strode by 'Those flowers… she didn't use the ancient language.'
'No, she did not. There is more to magic than we know.'
Eragon shrugged, half agreeing, half… not really caring.
The queen threw open the doors to the hundreds of elves gathered outside. She shouted words that Eragon couldn't translate, and at her declarations the elves burst into cheers and started rushing about.
"What did she say?" he asked Nari yawning.
"To break open our finest casks and light the cook fires, for tonight shall be a night of feast and song" Nari told him with much cheer, too much cheer "Come!" he grabbed Eragon's hand and pulled the slightly unwilling rider after the queen, threading through shaggy pines and banks of cool ferns after the queen.
During their time inside the sun had dropped low in the sky, drenching the trees in amber light.
'You do realise, don't you' Saphira said 'that the King Lifaen mentioned, Evandar, must be Arya's father?'
'Yeah, what's your point?'
'Circles within circles, little one, circles within circles.'
'Within circles within circles within circles within circles within circles within circles within yet more circles, right?'
Saphira growled her amusement.
The stopped atop a small hill where a long trestle table had been laid out along with chairs, the forest around the humming with activity. As evening approached the cheery glow of fires appeared scattered throughout Ellesmera, Saphira told him however that, unlike what he might hope, the forest was not burning down and they were instead bonfires or cook fires, proven as a bonfire was started near the table.
He was handed a cup made of the same dense bone like wood he noted before, filled with a clear liqueur. Eragon took a sip, and felt the liquid sear down his throat and made his body tingle from the tips of his fingers to the tips of his toes to the tip of his cock "The hell is this?" he asked Nari, more than certain his eyes were watering.
Nari laughed "Faelnirv? We distil it from crushed elderberries and spun moonbeams. If he needs must, a strong man can travel for three days on naught else."
'Want a taste, Saphy?'
She opened her mouth let him pour the concoction into her open eyes widened and her tail twitched 'Now that's a treat. I'll take a whole barrel thank you.'
"Daughter to the queen" Orik grumbled, shaking his head as he approached them "I wish I could tell Hrothgar and Nasuada. They'd want to know."
"The distinction is between wanting and needing, brother" Eragon told him "All people have their secrets, some are parentage, others are bodies buried beneath the table. Let them have this secret, and hope to all your gods they find none of yours."
"I suppose that's true" Orik agreed "Are you drunk, you're sounding awfully wise?"
"Wisdom from the mouth of a drunk? I though drunks generally said 'argh-er bu-la-shaddup, you wanna, hic, fight?'" Eragon did his best impersonation of a drunk person. It was rather good, if he did say so himself.
Orik chuckled "Different people act different when drunk, some cry when drunk, dwelling on their problems, others are happy, too happy even, others still become very philosophical, if a little slurred."
"I expect I'd be a violent drunk" Eragon said. Had he been drunk before? Oh right with the dwarves, and how many people did he knock unconscious that night, that's right, a lot. Admittedly it was more him overenthusiastically patting their heads than intended violence, but still!
"You never know. No, really, you never know. Most people forget the time they spend drunk and what they do remember is blurred. Whether they're violent or happy or all of the above they won't know it themselves, and some people go through stages, so at first they might be happy, then sad, then violent, then unconscious."
Islanzadi seated herself in a high-backed chair and clapped her hands once again. From within the city came a quartet of elves bearing musical instruments. As they began to play, a rather amusing song about a stag who couldn't drink at a waterhole because he kept on being pestered by a magpie, Eragon noticed a small girl, at least she was of that size, prowling behind the queen.
Her shaggy hair was not silver but bleached white, and her face was creased and dry with age that the elves did not show. She was no elf, nor dwarf and certainly no human. When she smiled at him, flashing rows of sharp teeth, Eragon returned the grin, flashing his own white teeth and sharpened canines, now knowing what she was, a Werecat.
When the singer finished and reed pipes and lutes filled the air with gentle tunes a horde of elves approached him.
And Eragon ignored them.
Though they did not seem terribly put out by the Riders lack of interest, instead completely and utterly content at speaking solely to Saphira. Eragon didn't care, he cared little for greetings or pleasantries, he cared less for praise or compliments, and didn't mind being ignored either. Well if it's someone he wanted to pay attention to him then he might care, but other than then he really couldn't care less.
Soon food was placed upon the table and all were seated. Islanzadi at the head, opposing Saphira who sat at the opposite end, with the only elf from Islanzadi's council who spoke, Dathedr was his name Saphira informed him, sat to Islanzadi's left hand with Orik next to him, and then Arya and Eragon to her right.
Eragon spent most the meal napping, lying his head on the table and ignoring the world, and no one seemed interested in disturbing him, perhaps because the Queen seemed not to care, though he did occasionally wink at the woman-child, who kept her lazy slit-eyed stare on him with single-minded intensity, even when eating.
'You could be more cheerful' Saphira commented, rather enjoying herself in all the merriment. She had rarely had anyone who wished to speak with her, and just her. Brom had treated both her and Eragon equally but she was forced to speak through Eragon rather than into his mind most of the time, and speaking through Eragon put something of a damper on conversation, which also ruled out those not skilled into the mental arts as she did not wish to scare them or intrude without permission.
Eragon didn't comment, his chin currently resting on his palm, his food untouched. Merriment held no interest to him. There were more important things to do.
But there was something that interested him, something sat right beside him, which he gazed long and hard for a moment. His eyes examine every feature of her side profile, her nose, her eyebrow, her cheek, her lips, her chin, her ear, and finally her eye.
"Not even Ajihad knew" she stated after five long minutes of his gaze burning on her skin.
"What?" Eragon asked, not following.
"Outside of Du Weldenvarden, I told no one of my identity. Brom was aware of it, he first met me here is Ellesmera, but he kept it a secret at my request."
Eragon gave her half a smile "Brom once told me that what the elves didn't say was often more important than what they did."
"He understood us well."
Eragon thought back, far back to when they had first met, really met and communicated with their minds. The argument he saw, between the dark haired woman who had looked like Arya and Arya herself, he glanced at Islanzadi, it was a perfect match "Why though? Did it matter if anyone knew?"
The time she hesitated "When I left Ellesmera, I had no desire to be reminded of my position. Nor did it seem relevant to my task with the Varden and Dwarves. It had nothing to do with who I became… with who I am" she glanced at the queen.
Eragon frowned a moment, before disagreeing "Everything that ever occurred to you has something to do with how you are now" Arya turned to him, a note of anger in her eyes "Just as the father I don't know affected who I am. Just as Carsaib's life, his parentage, his dreams, all of which faded long before I met him, affected who I became. Just as the events leading up to me meeting you changed my course. All of it affects who I am now" she didn't say anything but the note of anger did fade "At least" he muttered finally "you made up with your mother."
She started to speak, but he cut her off.
"Even if you didn't want to" he gave her a knowing grin and, for once, she smiled back.
It was at the moment Blagden jumped down the queen's shoulder and wandered along the table, coming to a halt before Saphira.
He coughed hoarsely, then croacked "Dragons, like wagons, have tongues, dragons, like flagons, have necks, but while two hold beer, the other eats deer!"
The elves froze mortified as they waited for Saphira's reaction. But Eragon burst out laughing, thumping the table "That's a good one, I definitely like him" he said in-between chuckles.
Saphira puffed out smoke at Blagen 'And little birds too' she projected the thought to everyone.
The elves finally laughed as Blagden staggered back, cawing indignantly and flapping his wings to clear the air.
"I must apologise for Blagden's wretched verses" said Islanzadi "He has ever had a saucy tongue, despite our attempts to tame it."
"I'd advise him never to lose it" Eragon said quietly, still chuckling.
'Apology accept' Saphira said calmly before returning to her pie.
"What is he?" asked Eargon, eyeing Blagden, who eyed him in turn.
Arya followed his gaze "Blagden once saved my father's life. Evandar was fighting an Urgal when he stumbled and lost his sword. Before the Urgal could strike, a raven flew at him and pecked out his eyes. No one knows why the bird did it, but the distraction allowed Evandar to regain his balance and so win the battle. My father was always generous, so he thanked the raven by blessing him with spells for intelligence and long life. However, the magic had two effects that he did not foresee, Blagden lost all colour in his feathers and he gained the ability to predict certain events."
"Predict… you mean he can see the future?"
"See? No. But perhaps he can sense what is to come. In any case, he always speaks in riddles, most of which are a fair bit of nonsense. Just remember that if Blagden ever comes to you and tells you something that is not a joke or pun, you would do well to heed his words."
As if summoned Blagden hopped over and came to stand before him.
"Hello" Eragon said, grinning at the bird. While Arya watched cautiously and Islanzadi with interest.
"Shrouded in shadows you are, Your fate lies somewhere very far, Your only safety lies in that room, Yet linger too long and it shall be your tomb, Fear you must not for it leads to hate, But run you must for it leads to your fate."
Confusion and worry showed in the faces of the mother and the daughter, but Eragon ignored them, in favour of the bird "You are smart, aren't you little bird? How amusing."
Blagden chortled and skittered away to Islanzadi's shoulder, she questioned him quietly but the bird answered none of them.
Arya too wished to ask questions, but restrained herself to a confused look "Some other time princess" Eragon told her with a casual grin.
When the meal concluded Islanzadi stood, resulting in a flurry of activity as the other elves hastened to do the same, though Eragon remained sitting still puzzling over Blagden's words.
"It is late, I am tired, and I would return to my bower. Accompany me, Saphira and Eragon, and I will show you where you may sleep tonight" the queen motioned with one hand towards Arya then left the table with Arya following.
Eragon stepped around the table but stopped at the strange woman-child "You're a werecat, aren't you?" she blinked once, then bared her teeth in a feral smile. A smile Eragon was only too happy to respond to with his own "I met one of your kin in Teirm and later in Farthen Dur, Solembum."
"Aye" her grin widened "A good one he is. Humans bore me, but he finds it amusing to travel with the witch Angela."
"What's your name?" he asked as she gazed at Saphira, purring a low rumble of appreciation at the dragon.
The woman-child glanced around, but no one was close enough to listen in "Names be powerful things in the heart of Du Weldenvarden, Shade" Eragon's grin only widened as he showed of his sharp canines to their fullest extent "Yes they are" she eyed his sharp teeth a moment before smiling herself "However… among the elves I am known as The Water and Quickpaw and as The Dream Dancer, but you may call me Maud."
"Then you may call me Eragon."
'And me Saphira.'
She offered them another dangerous smile "You better catch up with the queen, younglings, she does not take lightly to fools or laggards."
Eragon chuckled "No one should take me lightly."
"True, true" murmured Maud as she walked away, smiling from the exchange.
They reached the queen as she stopped at the base of a tree whose trunk was ridged by a delicate staircase that spiralled far upwards to a series of globular rooms cupped and suspended at the trees crown in a spray of branches.
"You must fly up there, Saphira" Islanzadi said, gesturing with an elegant hand to eyrie "Our stairs were not grown with dragons in mind" she then spoke to Eragon "This is where the leader of the Dragon Riders would dwell while in Ellesmera. I give it to you now for you are the rightful heir to that title… It is your inheritance" with that she left, not waiting for even a thank you, not that he was going to give one.
Arya held his gaze for one long moment and Eragon raised an eyebrow "Fancy spending the night with me?" he asked quietly, grinning.
There is was again, that strange, relief was it? Her shoulders relaxed, though it was near unnoticeable, and she shot him a foul stare, but it held no bite, before vanishing with the queen into the city forest, leaving his vision but not his thoughts.
"See you up there" he told Saphira beginning his way up the staircase.
'She wasn't kidding when she said grown' Eragon thought, half to himself, half to Saphira, as he made his way up the steep steps. They were worn flat and smooth by numerous feet over uncountable decades but they were bark, they were forged from the tree itself, not a different part, not made with nails and hammers, but grown into this shape, as was the railing to his right and the bannister to his left.
Reaching the top, and climbing through a trapdoor in the floor of one of the rooms, Eragon found himself in a circular room, a lobby or entrance hall of sorts. In centre rested a pedestal from which two forearms and later hands spiralled around each other, though never touching.
Three screened doorways led off from this room, one led into a austere dining room big enough for ten people at most. Lacking in decorations, fancies, trinkets or even pillowed seats, it was strict and stern and though not uncomfortable, it was not comfortable either.
Another led into a strange closet with an empty hollow in the floor, which after closer examination he determined to be some kind of self-filling pool, or perhaps even a bath (the absurdity of such a thing). He also managed to get his trousers wet while examining it. How was he supposed to know that those nozzles released water?
And the last led into a bedroom overlooking, and open to, the wide expanse of Du Weldenvarden.
Having examined the other two in turn Eragon set his mind to exploring this room. The dark shadows posed no threat to his crimson eyes as he navigated his way easily through the room.
A teardrop shaped gap, big enough for a dragon to fit through, slit the outer wall, and in a corner a spiral staircase wound around a dark wood chimney. Besides that there was a bed, positioned so that one could watch the sky and moon while lying on their back, a fireplace made of grey wood, that was hard and cold as steel to touch, and a huge low rimmed bowl set in the floor and lined with blankets for Saphira to sleep in.
'You coming in?' he asked his dragon as she swooped by.
Saphira swept through the gap, landing on its edge with extreme and precise balance just as the last rays of sunlight struck out across the elven city.
He stared out into Ellesmera for a few moments, the cities true scope only now revealed, it extended several miles to the north and west but from their height it appeared only as gaps in the canopy, unnatural islands of stillness amidst an ever shifting ocean of green.
The entire structure rocked slightly due to a breath of wind 'Wonderful' Eragon commented wondering at the structural integrity of the tree house. He and Roran had tried to build one as children, it ended with one of them falling from the tree, whether it was him or Roran Eragon truly couldn't remember.
'The elves likely have more experience than two five year olds' Saphira reminded him.
'Says the not quite a year old dragon' Eragon shot back.
She growled.
'Still' Eragon turned to the room 'it's a lot simpler than I expected' the Riders were the paragon of strength and power, yet if this were the conditions under which its leader normally lived…
'We have yet to see Vroengard' Saphira warned, but she agreed with him nonetheless.
'Gonna see what's up there' Eragon told her heading to the spiral staircase. It climbed for about twenty feet before Eragon emerged in a study furnished with a writing desk, that was stocked in quills ink and paper though no parchment, and another padded bowl for a dragon to curl up on.
Another teardrop opening slit the far wall.
'Saphira, wanna come up here?' he sent her an image of the opening.
After a moments consideration he heard Saphira take flight, as layers of bark cracked and splintered beneath her clawed feet, and moments after that she landed in the study room and looked around with him.
Saphira peered around with her sapphire eyes, drinking in the walls and furniture and committing the entire structure to memory. It was better to be safe than sorry, or dead, and knowing where chokepoints, hidey-holes, and other useful features were could only be an advantage.
'I wonder how you are supposed to stay warm, with these rooms so open to the elements.'
'Maybe it don't get cold' he responded flippantly, but dutifully examined the breach and the wall around it. In the bark on either side was strange abstract patterns and also a vertical ridge, a vertical ridge that shifting at a light tug. So Eragon tugged harder and pulled out a delicate, slightly translucent material, almost akin to a membrane of some sort, from the wall and pulled it right the way across to the other side were there was a grove to hold the hem of the cloth.
He fastened it shut and very soon the air thickened and the room became hotter 'There's you answer.'
'Interesting' Saphira commented as he unfastened it and let the material lash back and rewind itself.
Eragon shrugged and made his way down the stairs as Saphira glided her own way down, then he set about making a mess of the room while Saphira lazed in her dais. He tossed his clothing around the room carelessly, though carefully enough to not toss them out of into the wide open abyss that led to the forest floor, throwing his armour around in a similar fashion. But his twin swords and the leather box containing his bow were laid carefully beside his bed, close enough for him to reach at moment's notice.
He stripped out of his clothes, adding it to the mess he had made on the floor, then leapt onto the bed, enjoying its soft springy surface, before getting comfy on his back, staring up at the darkening sky.
'We are lucky misfortune did not strike upon the road' Saphira commented, sensing the direction of his thoughts. They had made it.
'But was it worth It?' Eragon wondered 'Can training really help me defeat Galbatorix, do I even need any?' he sighed stretching out his arms as he did so 'I can't help but think we should've stayed with the Varden.'
'You know we need further instruction, raw power can only take us so far Eragon. Besides, Brom would have wanted it, and wasn't Ellesmera and Islanzadi worth coming all the way to see.'
Eragon scowled 'I'm not living my life based on the wants of dead men, Saphira.'
She flinched 'No' she agreed 'We live our lives for ourselves. I know that as well as you. We fight for our revenge, because of our hatred, I know all of that, you told me, you reminded me, I know' her sapphire eyes turned, staring across Ellesmera and their vision temporality merged so that they were both staring at the sky and the city at the same time 'But you do not regret coming, do you?'
He chuckled 'No, you're right. It's a wondrous place, utterly surreal, and oh so very burnable' Saphira rolled her eyes at that 'And you're also right that we need more instruction. I'm even more convinced of that now.'
'The methods they used to grow trees, and Islanzadi summoning those flowers' these were mysteries she knew not the answer too, magic's she had no knowledge of.
'Mainly the latter, I have an idea how they grew the trees like this' he flashed her his memories.
'Interesting' Saphira pondered over the images 'I never that tree would be… well, alive in such a way, yet now it seems…'
'Obvious.'
'Yes' they both sat in silence for several moments longer 'And what of Arya?'
'What of her?' Eragon asked, stretching, knowing 'what of her' but feeling like teasing Saphira.
'Who she really is.'
'And what of it?'
She sighed 'I was just wondering if perhaps you planned on not feeling her up now, as there is the small chance of a war with the elves hanging upon it?'
'But that just makes it all the more thrilling.'
'Urgh, my idiot rider.'
'You know you love me.'
'Yes, unfortunately I do.'
Eragon chuckled. Above them the stars had come out to play, twinkling before his eyes 'I like the stars' was his last comment, before he drifted off to sleep.
"My name is Legion…"
"That's not my name… "
"My name is Legion…"
"That's not my name… "
"My name is Legion…"
"That's not my name…"
"How long will this continue?"
Brown eyes snapped open.
Where was he? A bed of some kind, a nice bed, it was comfortable here, warm and safe. But he had to get up. It was time to get up.
Everything passed in a blur and somehow he was stood in front of the door fully dressed. A black and gold vest, a black shirt, black trousers, shiny black boots and a long flowing black cloak held around his neck by a brooch in the shape of a dragon head forged out of purest gold and with glistening sapphires for eyes.
How did he know that? How did he see all of that? He never looked down he just… knew.
He stumbled out, or did he walk regally, he didn't know, one wasn't that different from the other, and he did one of them, he just didn't know which?
Durza's sword, he saw, it was there in his right hand, held there it felt like the comforting hand of a lover. It was sheathed, and he held it by the sheath just before the cross guard, but it was there nonetheless.
He walked along black stone corridors. Where was he going? He didn't know, he barely cared, he was going there, and there… and there… and there what? Was there was something there? Was he going there for a reason?
Heavy doors opened before him clanking as metal locks were undone and hinges groaned under their weight.
And he was there.
And there was… a throne room.
His throne room.
Obsidian tiled the floors, save a long straight strip of blood red carpet leading forwards. A raised dais, set before it on either side of the carpet was two iron bowls brimming with blood red flames, set upon it was a huge obsidian throne. Harsh straight lines, no pillows, no decorations, it was flat and square and unadorned. And all the more imposing for it.
And he was sat upon it.
How did he get there? He had been looking into the room, hadn't he? Or was he looking down upon it? Or up? Or left? Or right? Was he even looking at all?
Still it was comfy, a nice place to sit, it felt… safe, calm, tranquil, peaceful.
Along the black stone walls hung long flowing banners of crimson red cloth, along the edges ran black flames but adorned in the centre was the symbol. A blue dragon and gold dragon, back to back and rearing, breathing blue and gold flames respectively. They were his banners.
'No' he corrected 'My banners. They were… they are MY banners.'
And he understood.
"Legion" he spoke the word without fury or anger, without passion or hate, without fear or loathing or disgust or any emotion. It was flat, not bored, not judgmental, just blank.
"Eragon" and he spoke with all the emotions Eragon's word lacked. The fear and the fury, the hate and the happiness, the loathing and the love, the outrage and the obsession, all contained in a single word, a single word that defined neither and defined both. Much like the word Eragon himself had spoken.
Eragon leant back, glancing upwards the black stone ceiling, his lips twitched in amusement, but he didn't smile, as he realised what was engraved there. A monster formed of rubies was inlaid into the stone of the ceiling, a monster belonging to Durza, forged of shadows and corpses, a bastardization, if such a thing were possible, of magic.
"LOOK AT US!"
He glanced down staring at the man, or rather the thing, stood before him.
Legion. His hair was red as blood, wet as if truly drenched in the substance and stuck to the pale skin of his forehead but parted before his maddened eyes. He wore a dark red tunic, ripped and torn in places revealing the unmarred white flesh beneath, his trousers were a pure black that seemed to suck up the light itself.
He wore no weaponry, no armour or armaments, no item that would appear threatening, nothing.
Legion himself was threat enough.
"How long can you last?" Legion begged, his voice less than a whisper.
"Forever" Eragon responded calmly.
Legion's eyes narrowed, crimson swirling like pools of flowing blood "Do you truly believe that?"
He didn't respond. Would he have spoken if he didn't?
"We envy you" Legion confessed "To be so sure and calm, despite facing your greatest fear. Do you wish to know something, something you should already know?"
Eragon didn't react, merely followed Legion with his eyes as the crazed being approached him then leant over his throne and stroked his cheek with all the gentleness of a lover. He could feel Durza's blade lying against his inner thigh, propped up between his leg, but felt no need to reach for it.
"You are our greatest fear."
Brown and crimson gazed at each other long and hard, one calm and unruffled, the other mad and insane.
"We think we might love you, Eragon" Legion confessed, grinning his darkest grin, a grin that craved to rip Eragon apart limb from limb while listening to his melodic screams "You are our king, our ruler, our lord, and we are your servants. And if we step out of line you must make us reconsider with fire and death!" Legion laughed, a mad ululating cackle of raw insanity "And we love you… because you…"
Thanks for reading, review (you know if you want to).
By the way, to all of my eighty odd followers/favourite-ers, the least you lot could do is review don't you think? I mean at least review WHEN you favourite or follow this fic, I mean getting followers and favourites is nice and all, but reviews are more substantial and more... real I guess. Now I'm not the biggest reviewer I'll confess, but if I plan on following a fic I'll at least review, even if its just an 'I like it' or 'Good work, keep it up', even if you don't have anything constructive, intelligent or witty to say I don't mind.
Well enough whining from me, I'm thankful for every review I get (even though if all my followers reviewed just every OTHER chapter, I'd been on 400 odd by chapter 10) and thanks for just bothering to read. *sighs*
I'm gonna go take a nap (that rant really wore me out).
Toodles.
