A/N; Ooooh! There was kind of a cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter, wasn't there? O:
Well, everything (or maybe not…) will be resolved in this chapter. 8D
But, never fear! This story is long from over (or, maybe you're shrinking in terror now since you really want this torture to be over xD).
Reviews would be lovely, but absolutely not necessary. I'm not down to the begging level yet. xP
To EmeraldArya's question of how old Arya was in Chapter 6… well, originally, I was going to make her like… forty or so, but then when I read something on the Inheritance Wiki thing, it said that Arya got the yawe when she was around thirty, so I was like, "Uhhh. Major problem here." So you can basically think of Arya as around like… late twenties, early thirties?
Woohoo! So, I'm now pumped for another chapter. ^^
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The simplicity of the place amazed Arya. It contained nothing but the barest necessities: a crudely made bed, with a tiny fire pit marked nearby with a circle of rocks. A roughly made wooden chair inhabited a corner of the place, a couple eating utensils, plates, and a pot piled up on it in a clump that looked right about to fall.
"Ah, greetings, Faolin," a hoarse voice remarked, causing Arya to finally see the figure of a man hunched next to the bed. From his appearance, the man was not very sanitary, as his beard was untrimmed, and as a whole, he looked as if he were covered head to toe with grime. A cap covered his head, with a few locks of brown escaping from it. Brown eyes flickered briefly behind Faolin—toward Arya.
"I see that you've brought a friend; she is trustworthy, correct?" the man asked.
A friend? Faolin thought wildly, then whipped around as a feeling of dread began to creep over him, praying that she wasn't standing behind him.
His prayers were not answered.
"Arya!" Faolin cried, throwing his hands up in aggravation. Grabbing Arya's right arm roughly, he pulled her to him, hissing in her ear, "What are you doing here?"
Arya wrenched herself from Faolin's grasp and looked at him, her face as calm as the night sounded. "I might ask the same of you, Faolin," she answered in a quiet voice.
How did she manage to keep her composure like that? Faolin grimaced inwardly; he would never be able to do that. He resisted the urge to grab Arya by the shoulders and trying to shake some sense in to her.
Ignoring Arya's comment, Faolin turned back to the man occupying the tent with them. "I apologize, Brom," Faolin muttered. "I did not know she would be following me here."
"Nonsense, nonsense…" the man, presumably Brom, said as he regarded Arya with careful eyes. He stood up to his full height, and Arya saw that, in fact, her first impressions had been wrong.
Shifting his gaze back to Faolin, the man spoke once more. "Well, Faolin, are you not going to introduce me to your friend?" he asked, looking straight at the fuming elf.
"Brom, this is Arya," Faolin said in a strained voice, and even Arya had to feel pity for the elf. Guilt tugged at her fiercely, since after all it was her fault that Faolin was now so distressed, but she washed away these thoughts with a firm thought that told her it was her right and position.
"A pleasure, my lady," Brom greeted, sticking his hand straight out in the form of a friendly gesture. Arya, rather mystified that he had the guts to actually shake her hand, cautiously grasped his hand and shook it twice before recoiling.
Studying Brom, she came to the conclusion that he was no ordinary human. If he could make eye contact with her easily and could shake her hand with a firm grip—things that even some of the elves couldn't do—it was obvious that he was not afraid of her.
"Likewise," Arya responded, meeting the man's eyes straight on, even though the instinct to look away was pounding in her mind.
Faolin cleared his throat at this moment, and Brom once more looked back at him. "Arya, I suggest you leave now," Faolin stated in a monotone voice, not bothering to even look at the female elf. He didn't like going against his princess's wishes, but there were some things that he just wanted to shield her from knowing.
Arya glared at Faolin with the expanse of her green eyes, anger flashing through them, even though she fought to keep her current pleasant demeanor. "Faolin," she began, addressing the elf directly. "It is my duty to the elves to know the outside manners in which my mother has to conduct upon. If you so wish to shield this knowledge from me, then there are other precautions that you can take besides trying to forbid me of your own accord. If you can give me a good reason why I should not take ownership of any of this knowledge, pray tell me before time runs short and we must return back to Du Weldenvarden for fear of being missed."
"The lady makes sense," Brom pointed out dryly, a flicker of a smile on his face along with a hint of admiration in his eyes for Arya at her strong headedness and willingness to do anything for her people. Though it wasn't said outright, Brom had pieced together from the way Arya acted and how she carried herself that Arya was of some high standing, a standing that even Faolin had to obey to in the end.
Faolin flashed a look to Brom that conveyed the message 'you're not helping' quite clearly. Feeling rather dejected, the male elf sat on the ground, his face the exact image of someone very frustrated. Even though it was evident that Arya wasn't budging from the hut until her questions were sated, he still had to try once more.
"Are you sure you want to know all of this?" Faolin asked Arya, his eyes showing that the situation was of the utmost seriousness. "It is not a pleasant topic, and I highly doubt that you would like to listen to it. It is not something fit for the ears of many."
"But it is still fit for the ears of some," Arya murmured as her soft retort before sitting down on the ground beside him. "And now," she added, looking up at Brom, "what about the news that we have all been waiting for—are there any new happenings that we should know about?"
"Things have not been so well in the Empire, as you can imagine," Brom stated in a rueful manner, giving a shrug. "The resistance of humans nestled away have been busy making alliances; they have already begun to negotiate with the dwarves. The resistance has also procured a dragon egg through secret means, and there is currently a need for seeing whom exactly the egg will hatch for.
"Of course, all of us are hoping for the rebirth of the Dragon Riders—ones that are not corrupt as Galbatorix is. The only trouble with this is that elves have also had a history in becoming Riders… and, as the resistance do not have much connection with the elves, there is not much communication established between the two races. If we could somehow be provided with someone who is trusted with the elves, the prospect of ferrying the dragon egg between the humans and elves can truly come alive."
At these words, Arya raised her head, a sudden interest flaring in her. "Like an ambassador?" she asked in a hushed voice.
Brom nodded, and at the same moment, Arya felt Faolin shift uneasily beside her.
An ambassador… A representative for her race.
Perhaps that would impress her mother in to seeing that Arya truly did matter to the elves, and that Arya would prove herself to be a good leader?
"What does it take?" Arya found herself asking, intrigued.
"It takes a lot of skill," Brom answered. "And a lot of courage and bravery, as well as the ability to not take every single word said against you too seriously. After all, you must remember that some members of the human resistance feel as if the elves have been hiding away all this time and are too cowardly to show your face in battle—to some of them, you are a disgrace. Do your job well, however, and they may begin to forgive your race somewhat, though that is only if you do extraordinarily well."
A feeling of determination crept over Arya, despite the restraining hand that Faolin set on her arm.
"I wish to do it," she declared, standing up and drawing to her full height, making her almost as tall as Brom.
Brom looked rather perplexed for a split second, but then he appeared to be rather pleased. "It's not all rainbows and butterflies, however," he said as a general warning.
"Rainbows and butterflies are things I can do without, then."