Chapter 34: These Bloody Ties.

He searched for his cousin once the battle had ended.

The Empire had fled, they had won, the day belonged to the Varden, but looking around Roran did not see the sights of a victory, he did not see celebration, or joy, or glory. He saw blood and gore and the dead on all sides, the wounded grunting and groaning as they lay amongst their slain comrades and enemies. He saw nothing but mindless death, death no reason could justify.

It was… sickening.

He physically felt sick, but his own goals drove him through the sea of corpses and blood, searching for Eragon. It was surprising how hard it was to find the massive sapphire blue Dragon and his cousin the Rider amidst all of this, but when he did he found Eragon sat, a dying man rest his head on the Rider's lap, while Eragon himself sang softly.

The lyrics were in a language he didn't recognise, or know, so he was left clueless as to their meaning, but it was a pleasant tune, and he felt… lighter.

Then Eragon stood, picking up a sword lying next to him. The corpse fell, callously dropped onto the dirt. The man had died, somewhere in the midst of Eragon's song, and Eragon stopped singing and dumped the corpse once he realised this. He continued walking, Roran realised once Eragon got within five feet that he hadn't been noticed, by Dragon nor Rider.

He felt his anger rise at this, his father was dead because of Eragon, and here he was, not even acknowledging his presence, not even noticing it.

Roran punched his cousin in the chin with all his strength, putting all of his body into the blow. This, as it turned out, was not a stellar idea, as his knuckles rather hurt in the aftermath of colliding with Eragon's jaw. The Rider didn't fall, he remained steadfast and unflinching, considering Roran with cold eyes.

For a second Roran felt fear at his cousin's gaze.

"What do you want Roran?" Eragon said tiredly after a single second, averting his gaze "I'm not in the best of moods, and being punched isn't making me feel better."

Roran laughed bitterly "My father's dead. My village is destroyed, and my… and Katrina has been kidnapped. And all of it is entirely..." he poked his finger into Eragon's chest "...your..." he poked again "...fault."

Eragon pushed his hand from his chest "Well" Eragon gave him a cruel and forced smile "Good luck with that. I assume since you're being such a prick you can handle all of this yourself and don't want my aid at all, otherwise maybe pissing me off isn't such a good idea" Eragon's hand shook "What do you think?" he asked forcing another grin.

"You have no right to deny me this!" Roran exclaimed "After everything you've done to me…"

"I'VE DONE NOTHING TO YOU!" Eragon raised his voice first. It actually shocked Roran, and Eragon didn't look much less surprised. He took a moment, clenched his jaw, and set his face "I have no control over the King's actions. As for Garrow's death" he shrugged "I could do nothing to prevent it."

"You could've not brought..." he glanced at the dragon who watched the interaction "... that back with you."

Eragon smiled "She" he corrected "And I couldn't have. Ask yourself what would you have done?"

"Left the obviously magical stone in the Spine" he said determinedly, knowing that he wouldn't have. He would've done exactly as Eragon had done, brought it home, damned his father, damned his village.

The Rider just laughed "You tell yourself that" he made to walk past Roran.

"We're not done here" he grabbed Eragon's arm.

"Unless you would like my help in your pursuits" Eragon said, calmly removing Roran's arm "Then we have no further business. And if you do want my help, try being polite. I understand you have your own circumstances, I understand they may be stressful, but annoying me is not a good idea, nor a particularly safe one" throughout Eragon's voice was strained, as if he was holding back his anger, but at the end he just seemed to sag "I'm not in the mood for a confrontation anymore Roran, I've had enough today."

A moment passed, and Eragon smiled softly, and began walking away.

"Help me" it took a lot of will power to ask for help, not be offered it, but for Katrina he would ask, for Katrina, to ensure her safety, to save her, he would do anything "Please, help me save Katrina, I'll do anything."

Eragon stopped and looked back at him, then laughed "Sure" he said, tone now touched by mirth his face graced with a smile"I've got some stuff to do right now, is tomorrow good for you?"

Roran blinked "Um… yeah."

"Cool, but first here" he grasped Roran's hand and muttered a few words, and Roran felt the bones set, it was uncomfortable, but at the end of it his hand was back to full functioning order. Magic, he realised with a start, as Eragon walked off, dragon in tow.

Truthfully ge hadn't expected such an… arrangement. A simple, 'lets do it tomorrow', something they might've said when they both worked on the farm 'We'll do it tomorrow, kay?'. Obviously he wanted to do it as soon as was humanly possible and would press for such a thing, but he had expected to have to wait a day or so, maybe even a week, though that would be testing his patience to the limits.

"Wait" he ran after Eragon, coming to stride by his cousin's side as the Rider headed… somewhere.

"What is it?" Eragon asked not stopping.

"I'm coming with you."

Eragon shot him a faint smile "Do what you want."

It was odd, walking at Eragon's side. Many stared reverently at the Rider, some bowed, a few thumped their hearts respectfully. A pair of Kull approached and bore their throat, Eragon just nodded in response and spoke in some rough language that sounded like he was undergoing a painful coughing fit.

The sight of Urgals worried Roran, who watched them cautiously, but lowered his weapon at Eragon's words which had been "Put that away, you might hurt yourself", he offered no explanation for their presence, but Roran quickly decided it was unnecessary detail. Katrina was what was important, and making sure Eragon kept his word.

Eventually they arrived at a circle of dwarves, the sight of whom were almost as shocking to Roran as the Urgals, crying around a fallen figure, an elderly dwarf, wearing gold mail, with a hammer in his hand.

"It's their king" Eragon said softly before they got in hearing range "So… be… king death appropriate."

Roran was struggling a little to keep up, now there was a Dwarven King? But he nodded and hung back, only realising after a moment that the dragon had stayed with him, letting Eragon proceed to the mourners, offer the corpse a small symbol of his remorse, and then approach one of the weepers in particular.

A few words were exchanged, the dwarf asked something angrily, Eragon shook his head. The dwarf asked something else, Eragon responded, the tears became worse. His cousin then did something that shocked him, knelt down, and hugged the smaller man.

After a moment the dwarf returned the gesture, speaking some more, and then, after another moment pushed Eragon away, he walked with Eragon towards him and the dragon "And this be your cousin, Roran, no?" the dwarf looked at him, and Roran felt rather judged. The dwarf, despite his tears and rather prominent sorrow, forced a smile "Nice hammer."

"Thanks" Roran said, unsurely of how else to respond to someone so obviously grieving.

The dwarf turned to Eragon again "Before anything else is done we" he gestured to the ten dwarves grieving over the King's body "must return Hrothgar to Farthen Dur, that he might be entombed with his predecessors. Durgrimst Ingeitum must choose a new chief, and then the thirteen chiefs must select out next King from amongst themselves. I know not what happens from then on, some will take this tragedy as a sign we should not continue this campaign, others will view it as all the more reason to continue" the dwarf shrugged "I know not, I'm sorry."

"It's fine" Eragon said, sounding oddly calm, if a bit tired "Do what you can. And at some point, let's have a drink Orik…" Eragon turned his gaze back to the fallen king, smiling softly "In memory of the old goat."

Orik laughed though it was tinged with sadness "I'd like that. Hrothgar would've liked to induct you deeper into our clan, Eragon. Truly make you one of us" Orik grinned as best he could "Find you a nice dwarven wife" his smile faded "He can't do that now. But I swear I will introduce you fully to the clan, no matter what happens next. You are family, nothing will change that."

Eragon patted the dwarf on the helm "I know" then strolled away.

Roran followed along with the dragon "Family?" he queried.

"I'm a member of their clan" he explained "the King…" Eragon frowned "I guess you could say he adopted me? Sort of. It was more a power play, so that the dwarves, who up until then had no claim over me, compared to the Varden whose leader I publicly swore loyalty to, and the elves who trained me, could hold some measure of power over me. Perceived power at least."

"Oh…" Roran wasn't sure he quite processed that information dump, but he had little time to consider it as something else just as shocking came up.

'Hrothgar was a good king, and a good man.'

He jumped, as the voice did not come from around him, but from in his head, similar to how Eragon had spoken to him from his dragon's back while Roran stood on the Dragon Wing.

"Yeah" Eragon agreed softly, not finding the disembodied voice strange at all.

"Um…" Roran looked about unsurely and found the dragon staring at him oddly.

'Eragon, I think you're cousin is uninformed.'

Eragon looked at the dragon, then to Roran "Oh… Roran, this is Saphira, my dragon, life partner, love of my life, dearest, so on and so forth. This is Roran you overgrown iguana."

'I will rip your spine out of your back and torch the insides.'

"Uhuh, sure."

"You can… talk?" Roran stared unsurely at the dragon. Dragons could talk? Wait, dragons were intelligent? He thought they were just… well like horses, not mindless beasts, but not capable of speech.

'Yes, I can' Saphira said, a note of humour in her tone.

"Oh."

Dwarves, Urgals, Riders, Magicians, fucking Ra'zac and now talking Dragon's, the world was insane, or maybe he was. A thought worth further consideration. Roran sighed, and followed Eragon who hadn't bothered to stop for the pair of them, and Saphira who had followed shortly after.

"You were fighting with that other Rider" Roran noted "Did you wound him? Is that why he fled?"

"Yes I was. Not significantly. No it isn't."

He sighed, realising he would get nothing more from his cousin, and so just followed silently, pondering several things. Wondering what Eragon had gone through since Carvahall, wondering how his eyes had turned red as they had, wondering if Katrina was safe. None of the pondering took him anywhere, he just pondered.

They reached a pavilion, a man stepping out as they were about to go in.

"Shadeslayer?" the man looked surprised, before bowing "It is good to see you well. Nasuada feared the worst when you did not contact the Du Vrangr Gata, after your fight with the enemy Rider."

"Jormundur" Eragon said nodding in response to the bow "I'm fine, thanks for asking."

The man, 'Jormundur', smiled "For that I am grateful, we have lost too many today, we can ill afford to lose you. Farewell Shadeslayer" he gave Roran a cursory look, obviously curious, but looked far too busy for such curiosity and quickly moved on, barking out orders as he strode into the camp.

Eragon opened up the tent and bid Roran enter, holding it while Saphira got her head in, before entering himself.

Roran felt a little odd entering and being pierced by the gaze of two women, who stopped a rather heated debate to stare at him.

Both were very beautiful, one with olive skin, dark as the night, he had to pry himself away from staring. The other was even harder to stop staring at. She was a paragon of female beauty, elegant, graceful, she was perfection incarnate.

"Who are you?" the black skinned woman asked, stepping forward.

"My cousin" Eragon said, stepping in the tent and out from behind Roran "Nasuada, Arya" he said casually, striding in, locating a pitcher of wine and drinking straight from the receptacle.

The darker woman hesitated a moment, giving Eragon time to lower the pitcher, then threw her arms around Eragon, despite his armour and the gore that still dripped from him "Where were you?" she cried, hugging him tightly "We thought you dead, or worse."

Eragon chuckled, putting the pitcher down and patting the woman on the back "I'm good thanks. You?"

"The candle still burns" muttered the other woman, brushing black hair from her face, and revealing a pointed ear. Roran had to hold back a gasp 'An elf?'

The darker woman took a step back from Eragon and thumped his chest "You should have contacted us earlier, Trianna was here until a moment ago. Arya tried to contact you but… nothing" she glared at him "We were just debating the best way to transport Du Vrangr Gata and an entire company of warriors over the river. So next time contact us earlier."

Eragon chuckled "Sure" he glanced at Roran, who was certain he looked rather uncomfortable being in such company "This is Roran, my cousin, I might've mentioned that already. He killed the Twins for you. Roran, this is Nasuada, leader of the Varden, and that's Arya, the elf."

Roran bowed clumsily.

Nasuada lifted a dark brow "I had heard, but… the Twins? They were still alive" she bit her lip "Could that…" the woman shook her head "We are in your debt Roran, for stopping their rampage. Your aid helped win us this battle, I will not forget that. Though our supplies are limited I will see that everyone on your ship is clothed and fed, and that your sick are treated."

Roran bowed even lower "Thank you… err, Lady Nasuada" he wasn't certain how he should address her. Queen? Lady? Commander? He really didn't know, but hoped he hadn't flubbed.

"I wish to hear your tale, just the bare facts would make an extraordinary tale. But there are things I must deal with, I apologise."

"I understand of course, Lady Nasuada."

"You may go then" she dismissed him.

He held back a complaint, he would just wait outside for Eragon if it came to that, but Eragon funnily enough spoke up "No, he stays. For this at least. He deserves that much."

Roran frowned at his cousin, as he started his tale, at the bidding of the woman. He spoke of things wondrous to Roran with a swift, passing, almost dismissive tone, mentioning three dragons eggs held by Galbatorix, two of which had now hatched, as well as Morzan of the Forsworn, and his son Murtagh who had, for some time, been Eragon's ally

After all that, he just sighed.

"The enemy Rider was Murtagh" Eragon said softly. Nasuada sighed and sank into a chair, looking distraught, but not surprised by the news. The elf also looked sombre, but also not terribly surprised "And he told me…" Eragon continued, drawing the two women's gaze back to him "That blood ties us, that I'm his young brother… a fellow son of Morzan."

Roran stared at his cousin in new light, the cruelty he had displayed in the battle, carelessly taking lives and laughing over it. It made sense now, but it filled him with no less revulsion. His cousin was sired by a monster… and whether or not his cousin was also a monster was something Roran truly did not know the answer too.

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"So… you're the son of Morzan?"

Eragon blearily shot Roran a glance "Yes" he responded roughly, not realising how dry his throat was til he spoke "I need a drink" he murmured, before switching directions.

"Blood always tells."

He didn't let it show, but Eragon felt a sting at those words, and had to bite his lit to prevent a retort emerging, one that would hurt Roran as much as he was hurt by Roran's word. He wasn't wrong, but… after all Eragon had done, all his sins, it wasn't really shocking his father was a royal fuck either. But for it to be the big daddy of royal fucks, second only the King of royal fucks, well… he was appearing to take it a lot better than he actually was.

Saphira on the other hand was not so reserved, a blew a smoky hot breath at Roran, hard enough to stagger him 'Know that if it weren't for the bloody ties that bind you to Eragon, I would sear your bones to ash for your words human!.'

Roran took a step back.

"Saphira, stop it."

'But…'

"No. Stop. It doesn't matter."

She glared at him, and said privately 'But it does.'

'Just leave it, I'm not in the mood' he responded just as privately.

Roran continued following him, after several moments, but it was only after had a mug of beer in his hand that he spoke again "Those… I… I'm sorry" he said, softly "For what I said. I didn't mean it. It was… it was uncalled for."

Eragon laughed roughly "Was it?" he shook his head "It doesn't matter. I'm over it" he wasn't, but… but he wasn't about to let anyone save Saphira know that.

"So Nasuada, she's er… not what I expected" Roran tried to change the subject.

"No? Her father, Ajihad, ruled before her, you might've been expecting him. But Nasuada is just as capable."

"Her skin" he said slowly and delicately as he could be "Is it… dyed?"

"No, it's just the way she is" he frowned, recalling the elven scrolls he had read for long hours "It implies relation to the Wandering Tribes of the Hadarac desert, who also have dark skin. I dunno why they do and we don't, any more than I know why we're pale and they're dark. I skipped that lesson" or rather that scroll, it was… tedious.

"Oh?"

Just then Eragon felt the minds of the men from Carvahall, along with Jeod. Eragon smiled grimly, this was not something he wanted to deal with "You should go ahead" he said, pushing Roran onwards "We'll catch up later."

"What do you mean?"

"Roran!" Eragon turned and headed away with Saphira in tow, he ignored Horsts calling his name and continued on his way. He couldn't face them. They were his past, they were the Eragon he was before's past. He didn't want those memories coming to the forefront. Roran was bad enough, but Eragon could see the marks of battle on Roran. Roran was changed too, not as drastically, but changed.

Truthfully, he didn't want to fall back to where he had been, he couldn't allow himself to become complacent, Eragon did not want to face his past.

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Saphira was healed, and stripped of her armour, and cleaned too if the lack of gore was any indicator, and only watched passively as she entered.

Eragon too was healed of his wounds, cleaned of the blood and gore that had matted him, and stripped of his heavy black armour, presently wearing only his breeches. She spotted his armour, cleaned and carefully laid out on the bed of the tent he had 'procured'. The deep blue tunic he had worn under the armour was laid next to it, a bit more worse for wear, still bloody and ripped.

But Eragon's focus was on the sword in his hands.

She recognised it as the blade of Murtagh, even if she had not examined it intently at any point, there was only sword Eragon would bother bringing back from today's battle, and it was that one. Plus he had been bearing it when he entered Nasuada pavilion, and Nasuada had given it more than a glance.

She crouched in front of him, where he sat on the ground of the tent, and observed him heal the sword, removing the dents, suring up the structure of the metal with magic, and leaving it pristine, better even than it had been fresh from the forge. He sheathed it, and dumped it on the bed, before he picked it up again and moved it further from Durza.

"Does it bother you?" she asked gently, seeing that he would not start the conversation.

"Does what?"

She didn't bother answering that, it was a stupid question after all, not worthy of an answer. He knew exactly what, else he truly was a fool.

He sent her a grim smile "Does it bother you?" he asked in retribution.

"No" Arya responded evenly, though truthfully it did she just knew it should not "The revelation that your father was one of the Forsworn means nothing to me. Who are parents our does not define us."

"Yes it does" he responded swiftly. She blinked "Our parents define us more than we can ever imagine. If my father had not been Morzan maybe I would've had a father, maybe my mother would've lived. Maybe I would've grown up in Uru'baen and not Carvahall. Imagine that?" he smiled "Right now, I'd be where Murtagh is, the Black King's Rider" Eragon chuckled.

"I see" she said, her voice a little strained. Arya almost cursed that fact, not wanting such emotions showing in her words.

Eragon laughed at her response as well "Do you really think you can escape from it Arya? You're the daughter of the elven queen, and that will never change. Whether you want it to, or not. You are who you are."

She considered his words a long while, for a time she considered the meaning, then she considered the reasons, and finally she asked a question, keeping any feeling of blame or spite from her tone, and hopefully from influencing her thoughts, it was a genuine question after all, she wished for such things be laid clear that she might rectify or be aware of them at least "Do you wish to cause me pain Eragon?"

"If I did you'd be screaming right now" he answered without hesitation.

Arya held back an annoyed huff and scowled lightly "Cause me emotional distress then?"

He gave her a big toothy grin "Why would I ever want that?"

"You know."

For the longest time he said nothing, just grinned at her, then his grin faded and looked at the ground "I want nothing from you. Your words were true. I cannot deny them. Therefore, so long as we can maintain a cordial relationship, I see no need to obtain anything beyond that. Do you?"

His words were… cold, spoken from a dispassionate viewpoint, and they were true of course.

"I see" she said slowly "I apologise" and so Arya made to leave.

She heard a brief sigh from her behind her, and just before she reached the exit he spoke "If you must know" she glanced back, he wasn't looking at her, he was looking away, his face no longer cold, not kind, but not cruel either "It bothers me far more than I let on, but not as much as you think it does."

Arya wondered if he'd reveal this to anyone else, anyone here at least. Besides Saphira, of course. The fact that his heritage bothered him, somehow she doubted others were aware of this knowledge. It was almost… sweet, that he trusted her, or would offer her this in trust in order to appease her injured pride.

Their eyes met, and she wondered for a single second at how much they had changed, yet remained absolutely the same. They were like a sea of churning blood in his eyes, screaming of violence and hate and deprived practises. And yet somehow there was more to them, that was just the surface, their depths as of yet unexplored.

He looked away first "Now get out."

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Roran found him again, hours later, after darkness had settled over the camp. Five people had been here before him. Some more annoying than others. He had spoken with Arya, Trianna, Orrin and some nobles had come to offer their commendation as well as offer he feast with them that night. Orik had come to bid farewell, he would leave early tomorrow. And finally Solembum had come, to be stroked exactly five times, before winking and leaving.

Needless to say his favourite guest had been the last of the group.

"Tell me how my father died?" Roran demanded, sitting opposite him on the ground.

It was a demand Eragon would consent to, Roran deserved to make that demand in his eyes, though phrasing it as a question would be a nicer way of doing it "I'm not entirely certain. He died of his injuries, injuries given to him by the Ra'zac, in Horst's house, during the night."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it" he tried to keep the anger out of his voice but… he did not entirely succeed.

Eragon chuckled "True" he considered his cousin for a long while "Well I suppose I should start with finding Saphira's egg, though you know that already. After that, well, she hatched..." he continued speaking for a long while, trying to explain not just what he did but why, hoping Roran would understand, but understand if he didn't. It was hard enough for him to understand it, nevermind an outsider.

It was uncomfortable, to talk about a life he felt like he had left behind. To talk about a man whom he considered dead. He was not that Eragon, yet he could speak as him, for him, feel for him, live for him. Eragon didn't like it.

"Everyone in Carvahall, Garrow's life, me… what you did, I can't forgive" Roran told him once he was done explaining about Saphira.

"I'm not asking for it" he responded honestly. Roran glared at him, so again he tried to explain "That's not what I mean. I…" he sighed "I'm different Roran. I'm not who I was before. Just as you've changed, I too have changed. I'm… I dunno how to describe it. No... I know exactly how to describe it…" he glared at the floor "And I won't" he shook his head "Nevermind. It's unimportant. I don't ask for forgiveness, and I won't try to earn it. I have my own goals and working towards that is taking all of my efforts right now."

Roran stared at him confused, and clearly curious, but it faded when he continued his tale.

So he explained, everything. He talked of his journey with Brom, of tracking the Ra'zac, of Helgrind, Brom's death, Brom's revelation, and Murtagh, and then he spoke of Gilead.

He didn't explain the truth, but he did not lie, the truth was simply not revealed. He spoke of being captured, or Murtagh rescuing him and Arya. It was odd, stupid, dumb, childish in a way, but Eragon didn't want Roran to judge him, didn't want Roran to look at him any more differently than he did right now. Or maybe he didn't trust Roran with this knowledge, didn't trust him to not try to murder him for his present status.

He continued with what came after, the dwarven capital, and killing Durza, and a little of his training.

Roran laughed "You… you've certainly changed" he said smiling, though it was tinged with bitterness, maybe a dab of jealously, and also a bit of sorrow. Eragon's tale was not a particularly happy one. It was not terribly depressing, but nor was it kind.

Eragon smiled grimly "What about you, Roran? What lead you to this place, to here and now, and most importantly, what about Katrina? What happened?" Roran's focus switched instantly.

He spoke of everything that had happened since Katrina's capture, including the details of her capture. Once he was done Eragon was, he had to admit, impressed. He could fight, kill, but lead? That was not a skill he had, he could inspire but not guide Of course he didn't have to admit that out loud, and instead just casually acknowledge Roran's achievements.

He moved to the bath, still full of clear water, and brushed his fingers into the liquid "Drauma kopa."

Roran approached at his insistence and was immediately enraptured by the sight of Katrina. He would've, Eragon thought, stared at it forever. If Eragon hadn't dismissed it as he slipped into the water, now nude.

His cousin glared at him, receiving only a tired grin in return "We're going tomorrow."

"Yes, we are" Eragon agreed "The Ra'zac will die. And we can save Katrina at the same time too I suppose."

He scoffed, but once again only received a grin.

"Now get out my tent" Eragon said, pushing his cousin with a wet hand "I have things to do" Roran raised a quizzical brow "Private things" he explained vaguely "Things like masturbating furiously" and then in more detail "So shoo, off with you."

Roran was very quick to leave after that.

END.


So... that's that I guess. Got an Epilogue that I might upload, or make a part of the next book dunno yet.

Toodles for now.