The Herbalist's Apprentice
by the Lady of the Mists
Chapter Eight: A Romance Blooms
Sandry stepped through the infirmary, immediately spotting Eragon lying on the bed, his eyes closed. Thinking that he was asleep, she turned around, about to leave. She didn't want to wake him up; whatever he wanted to talk to her about could wait until after he got some sleep. As she was about to step through the door, she heard someone say her name and turned around, looking towards the Rider on the bed who was stirring, blinking his eyes at her.
"I thought you were asleep," she said, biting her lip as she walked back into the room. "I was going to come back later." Eragon grinned.
"Just resting my eyes," he corrected as she walked over to him, taking the vacant seat next to him. "Murtagh found you, then. Sorry I told him about the portal."
"Don't worry about it," Sandry told him, though she wasn't entirely comfortable with Murtagh knowing how to find her. She didn't like the way that his dark eyes looked at her. "Just don't tell Angela; she'll have a convulsion." Both of them laughed at this and Sandry looked down at her hands. "So, um, before Arya and Murtagh walked in yesterday . . . or I guess two days ago," she corrected herself, "what was it that you wanted to ask me?"
Eragon paused, his blue eyes meeting hers and she felt a shiver travel down her spine. "Listen, after the battle," he said softly, "I want to know what happened while I was unconscious."
Sandry went still, memories travelling back as she stared at him, not sure exactly what to tell him. "Uh . . . what do you mean?" she asked him. "You were unconscious for awhile." She was struggling to come up with something as he smiled at her.
"I mean, while you were there, down with Saphira," he answered. Sandry said nothing. "It wasn't a dream, was it?" She looked up at him. "It was real. You called me back. Sandry . . . I heard your voice calling to me through the darkness, leading me back, telling me that I was still needed here and it wasn't my time to go just yet." He looked at her. "That really happened, didn't it?"
Sandry looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer and nodded. "Yes, that really happened," she said awkwardly. "I knew something happened after Galbatorix's army started falling back. Figured that the Shade was dead and I was worried something happened to you."
"You weren't wrong." She glanced towards him and Eragon grinned at her. "I owe you one."
"You owe me nothing, Eragon," she told him softly. "I just helped keep you alive until the other healers came. It's them that deserve your gratitude, not me."
"I could have very well have been dead by the time that they got there," Eragon pointed out. "Sandry, you saved my life."
"We're still even," she said stubbornly. Eragon only shook his head at her, amused and exasperated.
"And the kiss?" he asked. Sandry felt the blood drain from her face as she remembered the feel of his lips on hers. Something must have shown on her face, because he grinned and said, "That wasn't a dream either?"
Sandry tried her best to pull an innocent act, though this attempt was almost futile by this point. "I—I really don't know what you're talking about," she told him. He nodded, feigning seriousness as he folded his arms across his chest to look at her.
"Well, maybe I was wrong," he said dryly. "Maybe it was just a dream." She nodded in agreement, standing up to leave in an attempt to preserve some of her dignity. But before she could move, Eragon grabbed her arm, pulling her down onto the bed, pulling her on top of him. Sandry gasped in surprise, staring up at him, wondering at how right this felt. "But it was a very good dream," he added with a smile.
"Eragon . . ." Sandry protested softly as she lay there, staring up into his blue eyes. Her heart was beating fast as he drew her closer to him and her eyelids fluttered closed as she felt his lips touch hers.
It was just as wonderful as it had been before, but entirely different. Sandry felt as though fireworks had exploded inside of her, showering with their magnificence and brilliance. Nothing else in the world seemed to matter at that moment. It didn't matter that they were at war, that anything could happen to either of them, or that Galbatorix might use her as bait to lure Eragon into a trap. She didn't care about any of that at the moment; all that mattered was being with Eragon and their perfect, wonderful kiss.
Hearing the door open, Sandry pulled away from Eragon and he leaned back against the bed, an embarrassed look crossing both of their faces as Angela smirked at them from the doorway. "Ah, to be young and in love," she mused, walking away from them. "Carry on, then." She closed the door behind her and they looked at each other before they started laughing.
"People choose the worst time to walk into a room, you know that?" Sandry said dryly as she pushed some of her brown hair out of her face, smiling at Eragon. "Especially Angela. She has impeccable timing for coming into places right when I don't want her to."
"She has a gift," Eragon acknowledged and the two of them grinned at each other as Eragon pulled her down against him. Sandry shifted her weight slightly, looking up at him.
"I'm not hurting you, am I?" she asked and he shook his head.
"No possible way that you could do that," he told her softly as he wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her forehead as she lay her head down onto his shoulder. Judging from the expression he wore, Eragon didn't seem to mind this at all.
"Eragon?" she asked softly. He looked at her. "What was that you said right before the battle? Wiol pömnuria ilian?" she added, remembering the words he'd spoken to her.
"I thought you understood the ancient language," Eragon teased her, an amused look crossing his mouth.
Sandry scowled at him. "I understood some of it, mister, but I'm sorry if my witch training is not going as easily as yours is," she informed him, pulling away from him in annoyance.
Eragon laughed, pulling her against him again. "I'm sorry," he said through his laughter. "Really, I am."
"It might be easier to believe if you were not laughing about it, Shadeslayer," Sandry told him, shaking her head in exasperation. This only made him laugh harder.
Once he had recovered, Eragon looked at her straight into the eyes. "Wiol pömnuria ilian," he said finally, "means 'for my happiness.'" Sandry's mouth actually dropped open when she heard him say that, unable to believe what she was hearing. "It would have been my greatest unhappiness if something had happened to you that day."
Sandry sat up so that she could turn around and look at him properly. "So," she said conversationally, "what happens now?"
--
The news that Eragon Shadeslayer was courting the young healer girl Sandry of Teirm spread through Farthen Dûr like a wildfire. It seemed that wherever that she went, there was someone there to wish her luck and congratulate her on having such a fine man for her suitor. Sandry was slightly embarrassed by all of the attention, but Angela assured her that people would find something else to talk about with time.
Peter, of course, teased her mercilessly about it, though she supposed it was his duty as an older brother. She was just glad that he hadn't given Eragon the third degree about his relationship with his sister. He was actually kind of happy for her, though a little sad as well.
She knew how he felt. It seemed as though their entire childhood had been taken away from them—or at least the childhood that could have been, if they had grown up with one another. They would be forever haunted by the thought of what could have been if they had.
Still, there wasn't much time for romance with all that they had to do with the Varden. Sandry helped out the healers with Angela while attuning to her magical skills and swordsman's skills. She had no desire to let her skills go unattended when there was a chance that they may save her life someday. In fact, they had saved her life. If she hadn't been as skilled as she was with a sword, then she might very well have been killed in that battle, even if she had run and hidden like some said she should've.
Usually it was Peter who practiced with her, though Eragon sometimes joined her. He seemed to realise her desire to have a solid relationship with her brother, however, and usually left the siblings alone during that time. However, there was still much left to be done after the battle. There were still many Urgals and Ra'zac who had remained within the caves, hoping to find something or someone who would be useful to the King.
Sandry was in the infirmary, treating to a young human who had been severely injured by one of the Urgals. His body was broken and his spirit weak, but worst of all, they had been unable to repair the damage done to his left arm and the healers finally were forced to cut the arm, much to his dismay when he woke to see what had happened.
"Can't do nothing, now," he spat at Sandry, who remained unmoved by his words. "Not worth the time for you to be helping . . . just finish it, healer girl! Finish it, I'm of no use to anyone now."
"Stop that talk," Sandry told him calmly as she gently applied the ointment needed to his arm to sooth the pain. He let out a soft hiss and his face relaxed as he leaned back, letting her talk. "You have great things left to do in this life. There is so much left for you than for you to just be a casualty of war. Perhaps as part of the Varden, your time is done. And you have done your fair share and paid a great price for your courage, young warrior. But you can still live," she told him. "You can love a woman and father a child. There is much to be said about laughter and singing and telling tales around a fire. And you can teach your son to grow up into a warrior like his father and watch him grow. He would be proud to be the son of such a man. You will survive and you can live on, because there is still much for you to do. Now, drink," she ordered as she held the potion to his lips. The man scowled at her, but drank the liquid. "There you are." She rose as she saw Eragon enter the room. "I'll be back in a moment," she told him as she walked over to the Rider, kissing him in greeting. "You're not supposed to be here."
"What are they going to do, throw me out?" he pointed out. "Besides, I came here to make sure you were all right."
"Of course I'm all right, why wouldn't I be?" she asked, suddenly noticing that he was weary from battle and there was a certain exhaustion in his eyes, as well as uneasiness. "Eragon, what's happened?"
"There were some Urgals down in the tunnels," he started and she nodded, already knowing this. "They attacked. We managed to stop them, but Murtagh and the Twins were captured. Maybe killed," he added as Sandry clasped her hand to her mouth.
Although she didn't like the Twins at all and she wasn't even very fond of Murtagh, she didn't want any of them to die. "I'm sorry," she said, lowering her hand from her mouth. "I know how much you cared about him."
He wrapped his arms around her, needing to hold her for comfort and relaxation. "That's not all," he said quietly.
"What else could have happened?" Sandry asked. Worry and fear came through her. "Not Peter?"
He shook his head. "No, he's fine. Down helping out some of the Varden. It's something else." Eragon's blue eyes met hers and apprehension surged through her as he spoke. "Ajihad is dead."