Upon Dragon Wings
Abby Ebon
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Disclaimer; I no own. You no sue.
PS, dear Christopher Paolini and all associated copy-right parties – sue me, and I will claim to be insane – after revealing all the naughty things I want to do to poor Eragon and the rest of the boys in the books – there will be much "eek" and traumatized lawyers, judges, and scarred for life reporters, jury, and viewers. It is best for everyone if my insanity remains mine…
Unrequited
"Eragon - !" Roran had yelled as he burst into the room he shared with his cousin, likely expecting to find the younger boy gone – instead he found Eragon gazing out his window locked in mental communication with his dragon.
"Eragon?" Roran echoed more softly as he approached his cousin, heeled boots clicked on the wooden floor – alerting Eragon to his presence. Eragon turned to him, unsurprised at his appearance, so Roran took it to heart his brother-of-heart was not ill.
"Murtagh is here," Eragon told him, rising from his bed, speaking as if Roran wouldn't understand, and then he said something that made Roran's insides go cold for his tone alone, "if you get the chance – ask Arya about the Dragon's Dance." Eragon did not give him so much as a backward glance as he left.
Roran gasped awake – eyes wide, sightlessly staring into the darkness that surrounded him. Its night – Roran realized abruptly feeling half like a fool and more then a little paranoid, Eragon has been gone three days. Nevertheless he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong.
So, for once – Roran followed Eragon's advice, even if it had come to him in a dream. Pausing only to put on a vest (for he had slept in his pants) Roran dare not look at the second bed – Eragon's bed – as he left to find Arya.
"Roran?" Arya called out to him from the kitchen, Roran paused in the hallway, looking at her. Now that he was confronted with her, he found he did not know exactly how to put what he wanted to say into words.
"Arya." Roran returned softly, with a nod of his head in her direction as he walked to the table she sat at and seated himself across from her.
"Can't sleep?" She asked sipping at some tea. Her pinkie tilted upward, Roran glanced aside searching for words in a way that would not leave him looking – and sounding – foolish. You are being ridiculous, Roran chided himself as he looked down at his hands.
"Not exactly – I, uh, had a dream a little bit ago," Arya eyebrow had gone up in interest, her eyes gleamed with amusement and Roran flushed – realizing what he had accidentally implied, "not about you! Erm, not that your unattractive, it's just – ah…" Roran came to a stop feeling the part of a child, frustrated he sighed breaking the night silence abruptly, when he looked up again he noted Arya smiling in a whimsical way.
"Your dream, I trust, is still of some significance?" Roran nodded the tips of his hair covering his hair as he did so. I'll need to cut it soon, Ronan thought as he turned his attention to what he had dreamed – and what Angela had hinted at.
"Eragon, before he left, mentioned that if I should need answers, you would know them." Arya did not seemed displeased or surprised at his words, merely nodding, and sipping again at her tea.
"I need to know what the Dragon Dance is." That caught Arya's attention – she carefully set her teacup down, and stared out of the kitchen windows into the garden.
"Long before my people came across the sea, we were humans – or rather, we were humans who could do magic, and thus, considered ourselves a race above humans. After we entered the bond with the dragons, we knew what it meant to be a different people." Arya spoke softly, and if Roran had not strained to hear her words, he would have missed them.
"After the alliance, there was one last great dispute with dragons and elves – that of the Dragon Dance. Female dragons, when they come of age, produces a scent unique to themselves that attracts potential males – elves at that time thought themselves above the carnal, physical, pleasures – elves who were dragon riders were proven beyond a doubt, susceptible." Roran felt a cold chill run through him, and he bit his lip, forcing himself to relax tensed muscles.
"At first it can as quite a shock for noble ladies and lords to confess to bedding each other at the whim of desire from their dragons. Dragon riders became a people unto themselves, parting company with humans and elves, preferring places only their dragons could get to and comfortably live – alike to the desert and the islands along the cost. Then elves were forced to face them, forced to accept that compared to all others, dragon riders were superior – this set in stone the firm alliance of dragon rider – elves or human - and elves. It is an uneasy truce we share now with dwarves and urgals." Arya admitted coldly, sipping at her forgotten tea.
"You mean that Galbatorix and his Foresworn not only betrayed the dragon riders – but your people as well?" Roran asked, feeling all at once the full meaning of Galbatorix betrayal, and the very firm belief that if anyone would stand beside his cousin with the loyalty Roran felt, it would be the elves.
"Precisely, all of this," she waved her hand about to show the entirely of the situation – the upcoming and greatly feared war – her presence among them, everything that had changed, "is because he tried to stop his own she-dragon from mating, and as a result killed her." The words felt cold, but Arya's eyes were saddened. For the fate of the dragon, Roran realized with a chill.
"That is the dragon's dance – a mating between dragons that the riders share?" Roran asked softly, if only to clarify what Eragon faced. Slowly, Arya nodded, and Roran felt strangely out of place.
Arya head jerked suddenly in the direction of the gardens, and Roran knew without asking that she heard someone approach.
"Leave." Roran did not dare question her when her eyes locked with his; instead he stood, bowed jerkily, and fled, feeling very much alone once in the hallway with the kitchen door having closed on its own behind him. The feeling did not last, when he heard a whisper from Arya still in the kitchens.
"When did you get here, Rhunön - Maud?"
Eragon had told him of the elf maiden Rhunön – she was a blacksmith who had made Rider swords and taken a vow never to make one again. Maud, Roran knew from Eragon, was like Solembum- a werecat, only she kept the appearance of a silver haired old woman with sharp teeth, and acted as the companion of the elf Queen, Islanzadí – so Arya's question caught his interest.
Roran came closer to the door, his palm against the warm wood – he paused then, hearing the unfamiliar feminine tone that answered.
"It is said the worst news travels the quickest – and I am afraid this is just such a case." The voice was old – and oddly as wise as Solembum sometimes seemed to be. Taking this to be Maud, Roran, now curious, let his hand fall to his side – frowning at the door, as if to see who Arya spoke to just beyond it.
"Du Weldenvarden," Arya spoke in a mere whisper, her voice catching in her throat, "has it…?"
"No – it has not fallen to Galbatorix, m'lady…but I'm afraid we witnessed the execution of an assassin just before we left…" This voice of Rhunön was somehow young and old – but smooth and noble.
"..Who..?"
"Vanir, m'lady, in some misguided attempt to gain revenge against you for allowing the egg to fall into the hands of Eragon, attacked Queen Islanzadí while meditating - Glaedr and Oromis felt the power of Du Weldenvarden shifting and attempted to save her – unfortunately help came too late to do any good," Maud fell short as Arya made a small, choked sound of protest, continuing only when Arya sounded calmer, "Vanir saw them approach – likely, he expected them - or planed them to be his next victims, somehow he surprised Oromis – likely pretending to be a witness - he took a Rider's sword and plunged it into his heart. Glaedr only survived long enough to ruin Vanir's face so we knew who had killed them. You, m'lady – have been named Queen." Maud fell silent, and though there was no noise, Roran was sure Arya was crying, and felt like a slug for overhearing something so personal.
"Where were you, Maud?" Arya asked softly, Roran heard fabric move and assumed one of the two were hugging Arya.
"She was with me…" Rhunön admitted softly.
"We need to know, Arya, will you accept the position of Queen?" Maud asked then, a hint of worry entering her tone.
"I…I have to think about this." There was the soft sound of stone-on-hardened leather as Arya strode quickly out of the kitchens through the garden entrance. Roran felt grateful to her, for not revealing his position – he started to turn back to his rooms when he heard Maud speak again.
"Come out, child." Roran froze, feeling his stomach twist unpleasantly at the prospect of being caught listening to a conversation he had no right to hear.
"How did you know?" Roran could have sung with relief hearing Solembum speak.
"I am not so old to not smell you in the garden." Old Maud answered sharply.
"I did not imply you were – tell me of the weapon under the Menoa tree." Solembum suggested softly, and Rhunön sighed.
"As you suspected, Linnëa gave back the dagger she had stolen from my forge – ironic that she used a blade that only in the hands of a Rider, and with the magic of a dragon, may turn into a sword to kill her lover. I refitted it with a jewel that I think matches Saphira's hide very well, Eragon will be pleased – where is he so that I might show him it?" Rhunön asked then, there was a silence – and then Solembum sighed, reluctantly speaking.
"Eragon left days ago to engage Murtagh in battle over the skies of Surda – they have subsequently gone missing. We suspect…we suspect Galbatorix plotted to use the Dragon Dance to turn Eragon to his side with the aid of the bond now between Saphira and Thorn." At Solembum's speculation, the pit of Roran's stomach felt like stone.
Not caring if they heard him – he walked away, down the hall, not caring where he was going, so long as he did not have to think of his cousin put in Galbatorix's hands by the betrayal of his own brother.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
….. Note (to self); I am not allowed to write (yet…); (slashing Eragon with "humans") Garrow/Eragon, Roran/Eragon, Brom/Eragon, Sloan/Eragon, Horst/Eragon, Albriech/Eragon,Baldor/Eragon, Jeod/Eragon, Ajihad/Eragon, Morzan/Eragon, Jörmundur/Eragon, Orrin/Eragon…-continues chant- (slashing Eragon with "elves" –paying no attention to if they are alive or not…) Vanir/Eragon, Oromis/Eragon, Niduen/Eragon (working under the assumtion of "male" no matter the claim of fan-sites, because I don't remember CP stating in Eldest that this elf was male or female...), Evandar/Eragon, Faolin/Eragon,Glenwing/Eragon, Eragon1/Eragon2…-momentary pause- (slashing Eragon with "everything else" – also paying no mind to "alive" or "dead") Solembum/Eragon, Orik/Eragon …Durza/Eragon, The Twins/Eragon, Nar Garzhvog(Random!Urgal Leader"Ram")/Eragon, Galbatorix/Eragon …so many more… yummy…. and some people think there are only hints of Murtagh/Eragon… –snorts- ...
No…no…bad mental bunnies…very bad mental bunnies….evil winged fanged-and-horned demonic bunnies! Curses –mutters- why wasn't writing Murtagh/Eragon enough for you?...aparently not. Alrightly, moving on to some stuff about this chapter you might be wondering about...
Technically – Rhunön hasn't made a new weapon, she refitted an old one with a blue stone to match Saphira's hide. No breaking of vows.
-Rant About Vanir…-
I do not like Vanir, or, rather I should say I do not like the ending scene of how he was protrayed, which sadly reflects on the charactor more so then the author in my mind...(even if I must confess to wanting to write a "what if Vanir – not Arya, followed Eragon to Surda and fell into a hate- love relationship (yummy rough steamy sex...) with him, and became the green dragon's rider (thus no longer having a reason to hate Ergaon)?" idea) Vanir, when we left him in Ellesméra, he absolutely hated Eragon's guts – this is as close to true loathing between the races in Alagaësia that I see. How can I be sure of this - point one; you're telling me all that emotion just "wentaway" after the ceremonies and Eragon "proves himself" by ruining Vanir's arm? Uh-huh. Let's review, Vanir was "humbled" – think, if someone you hate breaks your arm (think in terms of the "guy ego", here) your going to let that person heal you?
Right, better to save face play nice – heal yourself (I'm not talking magic here, Arya shows signs of fast-rate healing, as does Eragon, its not unreasonable to claim what would take us years to heal might take them a month – especially if you consider what happened to Eragon after that ceremony) and plot revenge. It's clear enough to anyone who looked that Eragon has a huge "crush" on Arya – then they both leave and Vanir's targets narrow to two (well, three if you count a dragon) Glaedr and Oromis who are Eragon's and Saphira's (I-will-not-write-(or think of writing)… Oromis/Eragon…dang-it…-whimpers-) mentors – and Islanzadí…
She is Arya's mother, who Vanir might hate because Arya led Eragon (and she let him enter their city) – or because it was indirectly Arya's fault that Eragon became a dragon rider – hell, he just might have something against her and her mother's line; who is to say he is not one of the three noble lines and wants a chance at the throne? Elves are just as capable of murder and revenge - the tale of the Menoa Tree proves that.
Anyway, ignoring the question of my sanity regarding demonic bunny hordes of smuttyness, please do ask questions, make comments, a suggestion or two could not go amiss.