Chapter 30: Girl Troubles.

"You are early" Oromis noticed as Eragon and Saphira landed. He also took note, though made no mention, of Saphira's laiden form, saddled and with full saddle bags, and Eragon's own pack tied to the saddle. He didn't ask why, he could guess easily enough. Instead he braced himself for the oncoming storm, for the rage Eragon no doubt felt at being 'lied too', or perhaps the Rider would surprise him and not feel such things, though there were in fact true. It was not exactly lying, but instead choosing not to inform, but there was only so much difference, both obfuscated the truth.

Eragon said nothing, merely stared at him.

Oromis would not be defeated in a test of patience by Eragon, however, and remained where he was, sat on his stool with a wooden mug of water in hand, watching the sunrise, with Glaedr also sat quietly eyes closed to his left.

He was taking a sip of his water when Eragon finally gave up "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. There was some accusation there, some actual curiosity, indeed it was most prevalent, but the underlying accusation could not be avoided.

"Because it would have distracted you from your studies, studies I felt you needed to complete" he said honestly.

The younger Rider stared at him coldly, but Oromis just raised an eyebrow. Had he truly not noticed that Oromis and Glaedr revealed more and more sensitive information more rapidly now than they had before. Had he been ignorant of this fact? It was not entirely unlikely, but he hoped it was not true, as it would display an ignorance Oromis did not find comely in a Rider.

"You still should have…"

"If I had" Oromis cut him off "Then would you have stayed? Would you have remained to study or would you have ridden off immediately to war?" Eragon didn't respond, so Oromis continued "We learned of this nine days past, think of the information you have absorbed in that time, think of what might have been lost."

Eragon was not satisfied, that much was clear from his expression, but he moved on so Oromis assumed he could not find any fault "Why aren't the elves marching?" he asked next.

"They are" was Oromis's response, he tried not to again be dismayed by Eragon's ignorance, though he supposed the Rider had not long been in Ellesmera. Perhaps the difference between wartime and peace was not so obvious to an outsider "Soon enough we will march forth from the forest and engage in bloody war. But rousing an army takes time, and as swift as we elves can move when we wish such a force still does not move lightly" he sighed, thinking upon the ignorance, or the isolationism, that his own kind could sometimes display "and there are those amongst us who are more stubborn than stone."

Eragon moved to stand next to him and survey the sunrise "I see."

"Indeed?"

"I'm going, master" Eragon told him, for once speaking respectfully to the elderly elf "I'm leaving Ellesmera to go to war. Leaving my training as well, for that I am sorry" he shrugged "I figured I should tell you that much at least" he turned to leave, and before Oromis could stop him he stopped "I have a question."

"Then please ask it" Oromis told him, spreading his arms wide and welcoming.

"Who is my father?"

A moment passed, and Oromis took a sip of his water "What has brought this question on?"

"Blagden told me last night… well, maybe an hour ago, that me and my father, we are both as blind as a bat" Eragon turned to look at Oromis his face contorted into a frown "How could he know that, unless he knew who my father was? And how could he have learned who my father was, unless someone in Ellesmera knew?"

Oromis nodded, it made logical sense "Blagden see's much that is hidden, a tricky crow to deal with, even at the best of time" he took another sip "So, you think that 'someone' is me then?"

Eragon shrugged "If not you, then you will know who does know."

"Will I?"

Eragon glared at him now "You haven't told me yet that you don't know who he is" he said, taking note of that fact. One could not lie in the ancient language, so simply not speaking was always a valid strategy to attempt to conceal the truth.

Oromis said nothing.

"I see" again, Eragon turned to leave "When I return, I expect an answer."

"Eragon" he stopped the Rider before he could go too far, and stood "Wait" Eragon did as he was bade and turned back to face him "There are things you need to know, and things I feel I must, or should provide you. Allow me but a few minutes of your time, please?" the younger Rider shrugged and agreed.

As Oromis disappeared into his hut, keeping an eye on the situation through his dragon, Glaedr rose to his feet, standing up and facing the young pair stood before the elderly Rider and Dragon 'The two of you ride to war, this is not something I wish upon any student of mine' he said to them, looking from Saphira to Eragon and back again 'But you must know, there is a chance that the Black King himself leads the army. Some believe that only he could maintain an illusion of such scale, to hide some hundred thousand men, and while we know that to not be strictly true… it is certainly possible.'

"I…" Eragon seemed uncertain how to process this information. Perhaps the idea of his goal coming to him, instead of the other way around, confounded him. But he recovered soon enough, though there was still a hint of… weariness in his gaze "I understand, ebrithil."

Glaedr nodded 'Good' he said, then lowered himself, allowing the returned Oromis to take centre stage again.

"I have a request from the two of you. Once events permit, return here to us to complete your training, for you still have much to learn" itn was a reasonably simple request, and Saphira agreed quickly enough, Eragon was more hesitant, not giving a firm response in the ancient language and thus not binding himself.

"I'll see what I can do" he said "But shit happens."

Oromis nodded, Saphira's word was good enough, for if Saphira would make the journey, then Eragon would also "In anticipation of your departure, I have gathered together three items, my gifts to you. First" he produced a silver bottle from a pouch "Faelnirv augmented with my own enchantments. This potion shall sustain you when all else fails, and its properties no doubt will have others uses as well. Drink it sparingly, for there is only a little."

Next he produced a blue and black sword belt, it was thick and heavy, and he handed it over rather gratefully "This is the belt of Beloth the Wise, I assume you read his tale?" he did not wait for a response "The stones may act as repositories for your magic which, in combination with Zar'roc's pommel gem will allow you to amass a store of energy quite significant. That you do not become exhausted when casting spells or confronting enemy spellcasters" finally he pulled a scroll out, rolling it hesitantly in his hands "This is a… a biography I suppose… of myself" he handed it over "You asked me often about my life" he had, amidst asking about Riders and Dragon and the world, he also queried about Oromis quite often, though he was not inclined to reveal much "I figured I should grant you your request."

Eragon chuckled "At least make it a posthumously biography."

He laughed as considered the young man before him, holding his three gifts, so different now from the even younger man whom had first come to Ellesmera "That is all I can grant you, I hope that, if nothing else, they can be of some assistance."

Eragon played with the belt a while longer than the others, which he stowed away on his person quickly enough "Thank you" he said, very seriously, genuine too, and then handed the belt back "But I've got a belt. And I'm not too interested in such a fancy thing. So thanks, but no thanks. I'll keep the drink though, that's some good stuff" once again Eragon turned to leave.

Oromis considered the belt in his hands, and the implication of Eragon not taking it. Was it that, as it was an heirloom of the Rider's, Eragon did not want it because he did not wish to be known as their legacy. Or was it simply that he did not like the fancy affair that the belt indeed was. But as the Rider started to near his dragon, Oromis spoke again "May good fortune rule of you" he said, touching two fingers to his lips.

Eragon turned back, and considered him, and finally turned fully around and touch two fingers to his own lips, after much internal wrangling "May the stars watch over you."

"And may peace live in your heart" he finished, repeating the exchange with Saphira "Know that you have my blessing, Oromis, last scion of House Thrandurin, he who is both the Mourning Sage and the Cripple Who Is Whole. My hopes go with you, Eragon Shadeslayer, and with you Saphira Brightscales."

'As do mine' Glaedr told them 'Keep your heart safe Saphira' he glanced at Eragon 'Try not to get stabbed in yours Eragon.'

The young Rider and dragon laughed "I'll try."

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She found him outside of Rhunon's workshop, a sly grin spreading across his face as he spotted her approaching him alone. Saphira backed off, dragging behind until she was not party to the conversation that would ensue. Her Rider had some issues with this woman after all.

Briefly Eragon wondered where the elven lords and ladies that were present when they first met where, surely they too would wish to see the Rider off, to feel important, but they weren't here, and he wasn't about to seek them out. It was not like she sneaked her, or even wore subdued clothing, she was clad in a form fitting crimson blouse, cut low to reveal the top of her perfectly formed breasts, a cape a pure white material inlaid with golden embroidery like vines wrapping all over the material, deep black leggings clasped her thighs closely.

The Elven Queen, Islanzadi, stood before him, resplendent and beautiful.

Eragon spent a few moments admiring her clothing, and her form, before finally, rather reluctantly he would admit, returning his gaze to her face, and meeting the eyes that had been watching him this entire time.

"Shadeslayer" he smiled widely at her. She had skipped the greetings that her race held so sacred for 'politeness sake'. He wondered if it was because she wanted to be rude, or because she thought he found them annoying, which to be fair he did. Either way he was rather pleased by the development "Oromis informed me of your intent to depart."

"He did, did he?" he responded vaguely, not losing his smile.

The elf queen narrowed her eyes and frowned at him "This displeases me" she told him "But I understand, fate will not be resisted…" a moment passed and nothing was said. Islanzadi's mouth remained open for a moment, as if she had more to say, or thought she should say more, but shortly after it closed and she stood there silent.

Eragon, as he oft did, soon grew bored of the silence "Well" he said shrugging "It has been an honour to enjoy your presence and your city, Queen Islanzadi" he gave her a wide grin, and abandoned all subtly "And enjoying you, of course."

That made her flinch, and he was not so blind as to miss the heat it brought to her face. She refrained from doing something so crude as commenting though, and instead pressed forwards officially "It has been an honour to house you in our city, Rider. We hope to have repaid but a little of what we owe you and yours, the Riders and the Dragons, for our miserable failure in the fall" she paused "Convey my royal salutations to Lady Nasuada and King Orrin, and inform them that our warriors will soon attack the northern half of the empire. With luck, we shall catch Galbatorix off his guard, in our pincer, and divide his forces" she said this rather loudly, Eragon understood easily enough. This was for Saphria, in case he forgot, or 'forgot' "Also know that i have already dispatched twelve of our finest spellweavers to Surda. When they arrive they shall place themselves under your command and do their best to shield you from danger, night and day."

"That's nice of you" he said boredly, scratching his back.

Islanzadi frowned at him "Will you ever learn respect Rider?" she queried, not angry, not insulting, barely even frustrated at this point, merely curious.

"Nope" he gave her a cheesy grin.

"One day I fear it may come back to bite you" again, there was no bite to her words. Concern, if nothing else. He said nothing just smiled "I have a gift for you, should you wish for it. It is no grand piece, or artefact of value or history" she held aloft a unadorned wooden box "My daughter damaged your knife, did she not?" Eragon raised an eyebrow. She knew, better yet remembered such a thing?

She granted him the box, allowing him to open it and admire what lay within.

A dagger lay in the box, amidst purple velvet, straight bladed, with a sharp point, and a silver steel blade engraved with two sets of runes running on either side of the fuller. The guard was shaped like a dragon's torso, its tail trailing down into the fuller, its wings forming a cross-guard. The dragon's head was the pommel, all of this was rendered in gold metal, the hilt was wood, yet patterned so as to be quite grippable even when wet. It was a rather fine piece, made by one of the greatest of elven smiths.

It was, however, rather fancy, needlessly so. The kind of thing a smarmy noble would enjoy, a smarmy noble who had no experience in war, and certainly no experience fighting with a dagger. Though the blade was efficient and well forged, the handle comfortable and practical, there was still a needless flamboyance to the piece that could not be denied.

"This was made by one of our master smiths" she told him, not bothering with the name. He wouldn't care, and if he did he'd ask "They spent several weeks working on this piece" Eragon considered it quietly, it was nice enough but not really his style. He wanted something simpler, sleeker, less… tacky "It is but a gift" Islanzadi assured him "If you do not use it, no one will be offended."

"You think I care?" he asked her flippantly, taking the knife, finding a sheath hidden in the velvet it lay in and sheathing the dagger tucking it into his belt "I'll take it, but if I happen to drop it in a river…" Eragon shrugged "Shit happens."

Islanzadi nodded then, hesitantly, reached around her back, under her cape. Eragon watched amused as she seemed very cautious about this, and was bemused when she brought out a small hand harp, fully strung and ready to be played "This is… my gift to you… that is to say that… nevermind" she held it out, her hand steady, even if her words were not well formed, but when he took it she retracted her hand far too quickly "It is but a gift, again. Simply throw it away if you wish, I care not."

Eragon examined the harp carefully. There was little to no intricacy to her gift. It was just a small harp, sung from a tree, Eragon wasn't sure what kind, pine probably like the rest of this fucking forest. He could feel the spells on it though, and guessed that they were to maintain the harp and keep it in tune, it would make sense. The wod was patterned with a vine like engraving, similar to the one on her cloak but wrapped around the rotund handle of the harp, and that was all its decoration, it was otherwise unmarred by fancy.

He strummed it softly, the clumsy notes sounding very fair indeed to his ears.

Eragon frowned at Islanzadi, though she did not meet his gaze, instead staring steadfastly at his right cheekbone.

It took him a while to decide what he wanted to say "Thank you" was what he had decided upon, but he was not content to let it rest there "Islanzadi..." he spoke her name softly, perhaps a bit too softly he thought it retrospect, like calling the name of a lover across the bed as opposed to talking to the elf queen in her forest.

Before he could continue she spoke "Though I doubt you need it, good luck. Keep yourself safe Rider. You carry the hopes of the dragons, the humans and the elves now. Your health, wellbeing and safety is of great concern to us. Do not place yourself in unnecessary danger. At least not flippantly and without just cause."

He snorted "Are you concerned about me?"

Her lack of answer was an answer in and of itself. And not the one he expected. He expected a withering stare, a bored look, something calm and queenly, not this hesitance, this… shyness, even.

She didn't answer his question, instead she met his eyes, raised a hand to touch his cheek and spoke softly "Farewell, Eragon Shadeslayer" then left him standing then, thouroughly confused now, the line she spoke before leaving his hearing range only sending him further into bewilderment "Stay safe."

He watched her leave, and not just her butt.

Saphira moved to stand next to him as he did so, and briefly sniffed the harp in his hand 'She sang it herself, you can smell her all over it.'

"I figured" he murmured.

'Eragon…'

"I know Saphy, I know… I done fucked up."

With a shake of his head he turned to Rhunon's workshop, putting thoughts of elf queens behind him, and firmly putting thoughts of elf princesses in a cupboard under the stair, lock the door, bar the gates, burn the house down, shoot the town watchmen, and explode a nearby volcano to reduce the entire town to ash and brimstone, just to be certain.

He found her working hard, and she told him with a grunt to sit down and shut up as she rather hurriedly finished her fittings, even using magic where before she would patiently do everything by hand.

"Need a hand" he offered, she shushed him, well she told him to 'Shut up', they were essentially the same thing.

He just sighed, well used to the elfs habits, and instead took a look at what she was preparing, it was very fine indeed, armour like that… well, it was fit for the greatest knights of the realm, no, actually not even they were fit for armour of that quality, not even kings were, only dragons, and he supposed by extension their Rider's, were worthy of such fine quality workmanship.

She finished in five minutes of his arrival, and then glowered at him "Leaving already, could've warned me beforehand, would've upped my schedule before last night."

Eragon grinned "You've been working hard since nine days ago, haven't you?"

"I was working hard since before then" she responded.

"Uhuh" he wasn't terribly happy at the secret beings kept from him, but he couldn't find it in him to be angry with Rhunon, nor with Oromis in truth, or Islanzadi, and those were the people responsible, well not Rhunon but the other two, and therefore he had no one to be angry at, besides himself, and Saphira.

Stupid bitch.

'Hey!'.

"So, you all done?" he asked, ignoring his offended dragon.

"Yes" she muttered roughly, going to grab a pitcher of water, drinking half of it, and pouring the other over her head.

Eragon grinned at the display.

"Now take it, and get out of my workshop boy, I need to bloody sleep."

He laughed out loud at that, and considered the stand upon which the armour stood "You made me a cloak?" he queried touching the soft fabric.

"What did I just say?!" she snapped.

He laughed even louder.

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It took them four days to reach Aberon, the capital of Surda, and there they were told by a seneschal named "Da War", or something, that the Burning Plains was where they were most like to find the army led by Nasuada and King Orrin, so that was where they headed with full provisions and a bottle or two of wine to pass the time.

The burning plains was the site where a skirmish between the Rider's and the Forsworn took place, it wasn't a big battle, but the plains were home to vast deposits of peat, and the dragon's fire had lit the peat on fire, making it a smoky, noxious wasteland. The fire still burned in fact, following the peat underground where it smoldered, and poured out choking fumes out into the atmosphere.

Not the most pleasant of places.

It was only as they reached it that Eragon begun to admire just how unpleasant a place it was. From afar it was covered in a thick brown cloud, which when he passed through it he realised was the thankfully not too toxic fumes pumped out by the peat. Beneath the brown cloud light still shone through, dyed bright orange, only the occasional split in the clouds let forth a burst of bright sunlight shimmering through, the vanishing as the clouds shifted and twisted.

The two armies were laid out, like pieces on a board, on the eastern bank of the Jiet River, the Varden to the south, fortified, stronger defended, with fine woven standards and the horses of King Orrin's cavalry visible even from high above.

But the King's army, the other king that is, was far grander in scale. The combined forces of the Varden and Surda were no match for the sheer number of men Galbatorix had fielded, their numbers stretch so far was surprised they all fit onto the land.

'And soon they'll all be dead… shame' he mused, quite unlike him, to think about the cost, the weight of a life. It wasn't something he had ever thought of before. But those were men down there, men with lives. How many had been cruelly torn from their homes, forced into service against their will? How many would have to die before their will broke and they fled, or had the Black King taken oaths from them all, forcing them to never retreat, never surrender.

He hoped not, he didn't want to kill everyone, a lot sure, but a lot would bea pretty small dent in their vast ranks.

Between the two armies lay roughly two miles of land, that would be the battlefield he presumed, that would soon be soaked in blood and death and flesh. Soon that dirt would slick and wet and squishy with the ichor of men, and maybe women, he wasn't sure but didn't want to assume. Basically, it was gonna get pretty gory pretty soon.

Saphira flew them right into the Varden's camp, he noticed archers making to fire, and just made them all bounce off Saphira's skin, close enough that it looked like they hit and just fell away, but not so close that there was any danger they would actually hit.

They didn't bother stopping, Eragon picked the area that looked important and Saphira made to land there, swords were drawn, men poked spears at them, none dared get within twenty metres.

Well, that was not strictly true, one did.

"Jormundur" Eragon said, grinning at the man, who sank to his knees.

"Shadeslayer, you are a most welcome sight."

Eragon laughed boisterously, and grabbed the kneeling man's arm, pulling him to his feet "I come and go where and when I wish" he said with a smile. Jormundur looked confused for a moment, before smiling himself.

"Indeed? Well I am grateful you chose to come here at this time, most fortunate."

"Indeed?" Eragon echoed, giving the man a gentle push as he began leading them through the Varden.

"You've heard I'm sure, terrible rumours about…" Jormundur said no more, not wanting to inflict the rumours on the men, who had surely heard about them already, probably far more terrifying ones too.

"Yes, I have."

"Are you…" he didn't continue.

Jormundur led them to Nasuada's tent, whereupon he bid farewell "I have duties to attend to, my apologies. It was an honour as ever, and you took, of course master dwarf, and I have not forgotten the most important Saphira, never fear" he gave Saphira an elaborate bow, before turning on his heel and leaving.

'I like him.'

'War suits him' Eragon said back 'Far better than politicking.'

She said nothing, but he could feel her agreement.

"Well then" Orik said, looking at the tent "In we go?"

"Yeah" Eragon nodded "In we go."

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She felt him long before he arrived.

How could she not, he was a being of immense power, a massive presence, a game changer on the board that was life. And boy did he change things. It was strange, she had a fair grip on how her powers worked, some would all it foresight, it was not that in truth, she could sense that someone was about to commit harm and was compelled to prevent it, same as she could sense something suffering, and someone in pain, she could also sense someone about to cause someone else misfortune.

Eragon blew that out of the window, then shat on it, before breaking it into little pieces. She felt him about to murder everyone fourteen times, FOURTEEN, and not just a minor slaughter, those were about every two to five seconds, every single person in the army gathered about them, maybe even a few thousand or ten in the other army too. All of them.

And it was a fully formulated, premeditated, planned assault, the kind she could sense, just like Nasuada's attempted assassination. And yet he didn't do it, she never felt compelled to try to protect for a simple reason… she couldn't.

In every other case she had some capability to protect them, she could prevent the harm in some way, but with Eragon, she had no chance. She couldn't stop him, anyone she warned was useless, there was nothing she could do, so the 'consequences' she normally faced didn't trigger, and as he didn't kill everyone she was rather glad they didn't, otherwise he would not be pleasant to be around.

As he got closer she could feel him all the intently, his mind was heavy, not that he was weighted down by something, but the simple pressure of touching his mind, as her mind did without any desire from her, was immense. She knew that older men had weightier minds than youngsters, but this was on a whole nother level, like taking four or five minds and stitching them together, more even.

Her name was Elva, as of right now her… position, was something along the lines of 'special advisor' to Lady Nasuada, she supposed. She was cared for by Greta. She had been blessed by Eragon Dragon Rider, and now would come face to face with the man who had made her life into this living hell.

She was… concealed, let's say, in Nasuada's tent, listening, waiting, watching, ignoring the urge to go and help all those in pain, and there were many. But she ignored it, even though it made her feel sick, even though it hurt, even though she wanted nothing more than to go help, she waited and watched over her lady, like a good little girl.

He entered, she felt her breath hitch when she heard his voice "Lady Nasuada… elf."

"Eragon?" Nasuada's voice came and sound disbelieving, then joyous "Eragon! How? How did you get our message so quickly?"

She felt his gaze brush her hiding place and shivered.

"I didn't. I was perving on you in the bath, and happened to overhear" he told her.

"I… see" was Nasuada's response. Elva wondered if she thought he was genuine, it was clearly a joke.

She next asked about Ellesmera, Eragon summarised his tale, speaking about a magical rainbow dragon and boring elven bullshit, his words. He also told her of the elf queen's words, promises of support, alliance, and shared bloodshed. The dwarf, Orik Nasuada called him, added a few anecdotes, that was all.

"I am heartened to learn that, if we can weather this onslaught we shall have the elves by our side. Did you happen across Hrothgar's warrior during your flight from Aberon?" she queried "We are counting on their reinforcement."

"Well" Eragon said "…we didn't exactly look down too much."

"You didn't?"

"No."

"I see" Nasuada sighed "No matter. We can but hope they arrive in time" she spoke then of armies, of what they had learned of Galbatorix's army and of the desperate race they undertook to arrive before the Empire's army "The Empire arrived three days ago" she said "Since then, we've exchanged two messages. First, they asked for our surrender, unconditional, of course. We refused, and now wait for their reply."

Eragon snorted, not one for diplomacy.

"How many?" Orik asked after several moments of silence "It appear a fearsome force from atop Saphira."

"We estimate… a hundred thousand?" Nasuada offered, not even sure of the number herself.

"Barzul" the dwarf muttered.

She felt Eragon walk past her hiding place, her entire body going stiff as he passed.

"Victory" Nasuada's voice freed her from fear "depends upon you, Eragon, and our own magicians. Trianna has told me that, undefended by wards men will be easy to remove, so if you can remove the Empire's wizards then stand a chance of victory. Assuming, of course, Galbatorix does not flying into battle himself. Then…"

"Then" Eragon spoke "This war will be over much quicker."

He didn't say who would win though.

"You've picked up a new pet" Eragon said, and his hand thumped the thick material behind which she hid, high above her, but the impact made her jump.

Elva heard Nasuada's scowl "She is no pet. She saved my life" she told him, quite sternly "And you, what you did was…"

"Between me and her" Eragon said sharply.

The olive skinned woman wasn't pleased, she had more angry words to speak, but held them back. There were other times to speak them.

Elva slowly slid out and first turned her gaze to Saphira, whom she witnessed for the first time she could remember. She was just as magnificent as she imaged. Then Elva turned her gaze to Eragon, and found him… rather plain looking. Until she reached those eyes, then she realised where her fear came from, or that it was not unfounded at least.

"Eragon" she spoke, trying not to let her voice quiver.

"I don't know your name" he said, smiling softly.

"Elva, it's…" she put a sneering smile on her face, to hide the twitching "It's nice to meet you at least, the man who did this to me."

"Really? I was alway scared of him, my him, not yours" Eragon said, rather confusingly "Though I suppose I had a choice, you had none" he moved closer and she tried not to step back, and succeed until he reached out for her, even then she took but a step, as his hand slid into her long hair brushed it aside.

She felt his palm press against his, a warmth there emanating through the mark on her forehead, and suddenly felt much better, the fear fading away, not gone but greatly lessened.

"It does nothing" he said, kneeling down and stroking her cheek "But I am sorry. I did not mean for this to occur, and I will do all I can resolve it."

She let a bitter smirk touch her face "I know all of this. How could I not? You meant no harm, but… but that doesn't change anything, does it? I still suffer for your actions. Even now, your spells drives me to rush to the aid of a man three tents away who had cut his hand, to the young flag carrier who broke his left index finger in the spokes of a wagon wheel, to countless other who have been, are, or soon will be hurt. It costs me dearly to resist" she whispered to him "I cannot even sleep at night, such is the strength of the compulsion. This the legacy you left me, O Rider."

He chuckled, not at her suffering, or at her pain, but at her bitterness. He found her funny, her attempts at maturity, and her childness that seeped through.

"It's hurt more to cause pain" she said "But I can" she glared at him through gritted teeth "I know that you…" and she stopped, stopped dead. She could say no more, his finger pressed to her lips.

"No more" he told her "Go to deep in my mind and… well, there are things in there I fear, so be careful little girl. I do not say this lightly. And were you listening to me" he stood "I did say, not too long ago, resolve, as in rectify, as if make if not better at least bearable your situation. Or did I ruin your ears" he pinched the lobe of one "Along with your childhood."

For a moment she let the wonder hit her, embrace her, take her, and thought of the wonder of not being like this. Of being normal. Then let it fade. Until it happened she wouldn't hold out hope.

He patted her on the head, and Elva realised with a start that this was perhaps the most physical contact she had had in… well a while. And with someone she had just met too, though she had known him for a long while.

Nasuada decided that they should next go speak with Orrin, thus they left her pavilion, she initially went to walk at Nasuada's side, but Eragon walked at his own pace, sometimes stopping to watch, to talk, to poke at his dragon. She could feel Nasuada's impatience, and instead dropped back and walk alongside him.

He considered her quizzically, more so when she took his hand in hers, enjoying the warm sensation of his own mark against her skin, and urged him along.

Their pace increased significantly after that, and soon they came upon Orrin's tent.

Eragon didn't let go of her hand as he spoke to Orrin, engaging in educated discussions about things she didn't under. Psychics? Or a similar term at least, it was all elven to her, or dwarven, or urgalian, or whatever. She didn't understand it was the point. And given that half the things Eragon said Orrin didn't quite grasp, she wasn't alone.

After that he had to greet about twenty earls and lords and barons and other such nobility, shaking their hands with his left, never bowing even when they did, listening patiently, talking politely, but also with a curt edge that meant no one stayed over long.

She got bored, and let go of his hand, immediately missing its warmth and moved to stand near Saphira, who stood alone, her head poking into the tent as she could not fit inside.

'You should be careful little one.'

The dragon told her as she came to a halt. Elva raised an eyebrow quizzically.

'My Rider likes you, I do too. And he does feel indebted to you for his actions. But do not think that gives you free reign to do as you please. If you had spoken in that tent, I fear you would not have left it alive' her body tensed, not because of the words but because of Eragon's spell. Everyone in this room would die, blood, gore, everywhere, screams, agony, pain, death.

Then it was gone, Eragon laughed past the line which irked him, responding with a sharp comment of his own, that seemed polite but truthfully was more stinging than the edge of his sword. Or so a poet might say, truthfully the edge of his sword would sting far, far worse than some measly words.

It was done soon enough and Eragon and Nasuada departed the tent, talking quietly, with the elf Arya close behind, Saphira further but she was so large that it was truthfully only a stride at best.

Elva stayed close to the dragon.

If Eragon snapped… well, he wouldn't turn his anger over here, at least not until Saphira had moved. She wasn't scared, just being cautious. Yep, cautious. That was it, exactly it. Not scared at all. Not. At. All.


So that's that. How you guys doing?

I am heavily regretting not being better at maths, we're doing computer graphics for games, and programming of course, and there's a lot of maths and I don't think mine are up to snuff, which means I have to study... maths, study maths. Yeah, its not great.

But how are you? I'm good, in case you were wondering, not great, but not terrible, just good.

Thanks for the chat, I'll see you next time.

Toodles.