Fates Entwined
Chapter two: Past and present
Eragon paced back and forth across his Balcony in a state of nervous excitement. Arya and Firnen were due to arrive that day, and he couldn't help but worry. The last week's preparations had distracted him for a time, but now that the day had arrived, he had been in a near frenzy ensuring everything was ready. Were the streets and passages cleaned, were there sufficient provisions for the feast, was there enough water for her, were her quarters ready, and a dozen other little things he felt had to be just right.
Saphira had spent most of the morning convincing him everything was fine, but he could not listen. When he had asked the same elf if the linen's had been cleaned for the third time, she had finally threatened to lick him from head to toe to make him admit she was right. He had since spent the last hour on his balcony smoothing imagined wrinkles in his tunic.
Little one, you worry too much. Everything will be fine.
What if she-
No what ifs. She will adore it I am sure little one, just relax.
He sighed, you are right Saphira, it's just-
I know, you haven't seen her in a very long time and you are anxious. I have not seen Firnen in just as long, but do you see me fretting.
He snorted at that, Saphira, you have groomed the same talon for over an hour.
Personal Hygiene is a good thing Eragon, and perfectly natural for a beautiful creature such as myself.
And the three baths in the river today is natural as well?
Of course, she snorted indignantly, I have to keep my scales clean somehow.
At that he laughed, he knew she was just as nervous to see Firnen again as he was to see Arya, though he was also worried at her sudden decision to come. What if something was wrong?
So how did your conversation with Farah and Talenel go? Saphira asked, knowing the answer fully well, but trying to distract him anyway.
It went as well as could be expected, he replied, thinking back to the talk he had had with her seven days ago.
He had met her in his study while Saphira lounged upon the balcony behind, and she had appeared, as expected, in a very flattering dress. She had sat in the chair Eragon had indicated while her dragon, Talenel, a long and sleek male with scales as violet as Saphira's were blue, lounged near Saphira as they communicated.
He had been gentle, but firm as he told her that her affections were both misplaced and inappropriate as he was her teacher and ruler, while she was his student and follower. Her expression had grown sadder as the discussion wore on and had at one point all but begged him to give her a chance. An action at which Saphira and her own dragon Talenel had snarled. She had finally left him in near tears, followed shortly by Talenel who promised to speak to her. He had not seen her since, though Talenel could be seen outside her quarters when not hunting.
He truly hoped he had not hurt her for he did like and care for her, but not in that way. He did not pry, however, because he knew she needed her space for a time.
You know Eragon, I remember a similar situation about 150 years ago…
Saphira! He scolded, but she was right. He had felt the same way each time Arya had rejected him, though their situation had been different.
Worry not little one, your heart has stayed true these years has it not? She must take notice hmm.
What if she doesn't Saphira? What then?
Well, you could wait longer I suppose, and then there is always Farah…
Saphira! You are incorrigible!
She said nothing for a moment as she chuckled and then, it is simpler for dragons. We know what we want and go for it. You two-legs are so strange. You complicate what should be easy and deny yourselves what you desire most. Mayhaps you should try fighting her to see who is strongest, then see what happens.
Saphira!
She simply chuckled a moment before her head shot up, her gaze fixed in the west. She quickly relayed what she was seeing to Eragon who all but ran to the landing field to greet her. Arya and Firnen had arrived.
Clad in her leathers and riding Firnen, the wind whipping her hair behind her, Arya felt almost free again…almost.
She had not seen Eragon in person for a century and a half, and couldn't help but wonder how he would react. She wanted dearly to see him again, to renew their friendship the way it used to be.
And maybe something more. Firnen whispered across their mental link with a light chuckle.
Firnen, she scolded, not displeased with the idea. She had grown more fond of Eragon than she had thought possible in his absence, their unofficial correspondence having kept them connected more personally over the long years. And yet she was also worried. Worried that he may have moved on. That he may have found someone else.
She could not blame him if he had. She had rejected his advances more than once, and would be more upset with herself than with him. She still remembered the early training of Farah, who had seemed half in love with Eragon from the stories alone, and worried that she may have caught his attentions. She did not want to risk having her heart broken and decided to approach him cautiously.
Firnen, who had been following her thoughts with interest, spoke up then, Worry not partner-of-my-heart, He will have waited for you, I am sure of it.
Perhaps Firnen, yet I should still not be too forward.
I am not suggesting you throw yourself at him like a hatchling at the biggest dragon in sight, but be honest with him, and be honest with how you feel.
She did not respond, remembering her conversation with Glaedr's Eldunari shortly before she had decided to come.
Arya, what is wrong? His deep voice had rumbled in her head as she neared Oromis' hut, as she still thought of it. You have seemed saddened and restless of late.
I am lost Glaedr-elda, and know not what to do.
You are the queen of the elves are you not? I imagine you may do whatever you wish.
I do not know what I wish anymore Gladr-elda. It has been long indeed since I have known. I wish Eragon were here, he would help me.
You miss him? Asked Glaedr, though it was more a statement.
Of course, how could I not. He is my friend.
Are you sure youngling?
Yes, he has always been my friend, why would he not be?
At that, his mental laughter had boomed across the glade, frightening bird and beast from hiding and causing Firnen to snort in surprise.
What I meant youngling, is are you sure that is all he is?
I…she trailed off as Glaedr spoke again.
He loved you then, and I've no doubt he loves you now. Why do you not go to him?
It's not that simple, I have a duty to my people, to my home.
Do you? What duty do you have precisely? As far as I can see, nothing has changed in the forest for well over a century. Surely a rock would be just as capable of ruling so.
But-
No youngling. You are no longer happy here. I know it, Firnen knows it, why do you not know it?
It is true partner-of-my-mind, you are not happy, Firnen said, and neither am I.
How could I abandon my people Glaedr-elda? How could I shirk my duties?
Youngling, I want you to ask yourself a question, do you love him?
She had not responded at first, instead moving to sit on the cliff edge, legs dangling below as she pondered the question in silence. She thought back to their times together, before and during the war. She recalled his youthful innocence, and her sorrow to see him thrust into the world of blood and death and duty. And her wonder at seeing him still retain some of that self.
She remembered the wound he had taken from Durza, and watching with pain in her heart as the pain brought him to his knees time and time again. So much so that he lived every moment in perpetual fear that he would suffer it again. And her pride that he persevered, that he never gave up. And later her joy when he had been healed.
She remembered so many little moments, when he had put her needs and comforts before his own, never expecting anything in return. The night she had found him in the inn, she could tell he wanted her to have the bed. When he had held her after their fight with Varaug, and she had learned of Oromis' death. The way his brown eyes seemed to melt her soul.
"Yes," she whispered, barely audible even to her, then louder, "Yes."
Then what more reason do you need youngling? Go to him, tell him.
She had wasted little time, pausing only to send him a message before making preparations that night. She had packed provisions for her journey, then left her circlet upon the throne, where it would be found, a message to all that she did not intend to return. She was away with Firnen and the Eldunari she had that very night, and along the way, worry began to gnaw at her.
Firnen, what will I say to him?
You will know the words when the time comes Partner-of-my-life.
But will I know the right words? I cannot just walk to him and say 'Hello Eragon, it has been many years has it not, oh and by the way I love you now.'
And why not? It seems you two legs should be more direct, like dragons. I say you fight him for dominance.
FIRNEN!
She could feel his laughter through her legs as his sides heaved with it, and his mental amusement was joined by the laughter of the dozen eldunari she carried, the combined mirth of thirteen dragons was enough to set her skin afire from head to toe. She could have sworn that blush would have permanently turned her skin red.
She soon composed herself, for through her mental link, she saw in the distance a city, and two figures standing upon the edge waiting. One glittering blue in the midday sun, the other barely distinguishable, though it was clearly Eragon. She crouched in the saddle as Firnen let lose a roar of greeting, before folding his wings to dive.
Eragon and Saphira stood at the forefront of the crowd who had come to see Arya and Firnen's arrival, with the younger riders and apprentices behind them. When Firnen roared his greeting in the distance and folded into a dive, Saphira returned the greeting with equal fervor.
A large space had been kept clear in front of Eragon and Saphira, allowing Firnen a safe place to land. He pulled out of his dive abruptly, mere feet above the ground, as he flapped his powerful wings to land lightly upon the stone, causing the crowd's clothing and hair to whip like pennants in a gale.
The moment he had all four legs on the ground, his rider, wearing the leathers that Eragon remembered so well, jumped to the ground and turned. In that moment, he locked eyes with the woman he loved, the woman he had not seen in over a century, and all else ceased to matter. With great effort he recovered his wits and formally welcomed her to the city.
"Arya Drottning, be welcome in our home," he said to the applause of those present.
"Thank-you Eragon," she replied, beaming.
More quietly he said, "We thought you might like to rest after your journey, so I have had a small meal brought up if you would join me."
"Of course Eragon," she replied, a slightly worried look passing over her features and gone before any but Eragon had noticed.
"It is this way," he said, beckoning her to follow.
As they made their way through the crowd, Nervousness was gnawing at them both, though only each could tell in the other.
Ending A/N:
Well, there is chapter two. Sorry about the cliffhanger, but it is late where I am, and I can't keep my eyes upon much longer.
The romance plot is moving a bit swiftly, but I always thought that once Arya finally admitted her feelings, at least to herself, then the dam would break and they would come together very quickly. And besides, I already made them wait 150 years, which, to my mind, is plenty of time for them both to come to grips with their feelings.
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