Upon Dragon Wings
Abby Ebon
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Indissoluble…
"We then must find your dragon." Angela raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips twitching in a frown.
"And how do you propose we find something like a dragon?" Angela asked in turn, Solembum's hands were on his hips, he leaned foreword – and standing on tip toe, whispered in her ear.
"We let it know you want to be found." Elva, for all that she should not have heard him speak, nodded in agreement, her purple eyes far away.
"All you must do is connect with it once more…" Elva said, and Angela sighed softly, sitting back on the window sill, the dragon having crawled down into her lap, and sat there, looking up at her comfortingly.
"I…I am afraid…" Angela admitted, and Solembum nodded, walking towards her to lay his hand on the shoulder Spine had vacated.
"Nothing worth doing is without a little fear – but Elva and I will be here, and nothing will hurt you so long as we are around." Solembum assured, awkwardly patting the witches – no, the Riders, shoulder. Angela's reflection in the window smiled, and Solembum watched as she closed her eyes, trying to reconnect a bond he suspected had been severed by another.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Night was creeping over the edges of the land, and as Elva turned away from the window, she glanced once more – worriedly – to Angela's still form. Her teacher had been in this trance since Spine had been found out by Solembum. The little dragon shivered in her lap, yawning, sharp little teeth glinting like the metal of a dagger. It was as if he knew she had thought of him. She soothed him, her stomach fluttered; she knew something was going to happen – something that would change things, though she did not know what.
"Solembum, she's been like this for hours, do you not think we should wake her?" Elva asked then, but the wild haired boy only shook his head in a negative.
"I am growing hungry." Elva confessed, and Solembum tensed up glancing to her and the little dragon in her lap. The magic had forced Elva to grow from a babe to a teen in a matter of a year –doing so had caused her to practically need food like she needed air.
"I thought those cravings had ceased." Solembum spoke accusingly; Spine fluttered his wings nervously in response to his tone.
"They have started again – something looms in the future." Elva said, though they both knew as much.
"Can you see it yet?" Werecat asked girl, and Elva shook her head wide purple eyes pleading. Solembum sighed then, giving into her need.
"We are safe enough here, I will fetch something for you in the kitchens – do not leave Angela alone and come fetch me when she wakes. Or have her call for me. Do not eat the dragon." Though the last words were spoken seriously, Elva smiled a little – with a flick of his tail Solembum was gone through the door out of sight.
Elva sighed, running her fingers along the contours of Spine's green scales. She saw Angela's eyes flutter and wondered what the other woman saw.
To begin, Angela closed her eyes slowly withdrawing her awareness of her body as she sought out find the long diminished link between herself and her dragon – then, like a net tossed to sea, she began to search a wider and wider area around her hoping to catch only a trace – a hint – to tell her she had not forgotten her own dragon's death.
Only when she was beginning to loose hope having searched Surda and began along the desert and mountains and elf forest did she find him – Shruikan, coming towards her – and bringing Katrina with him. Her mouth formed his name; her heart singing it as she opened her eyes to see Spine watching her with bright green eyes. His little tail flicked back and forth, and he seemed to know, just by looking at her – that she had found her answer.
Then she noticed that only Elva was present, but it had grown dark…
"Solembum went to fetch some food – I'll send Spine after him. Did you find your dragon, Lady Angela?" The little girl asked then, Spine fluttered his wings in preparation for flight through he paused long enough to hear her answer.
"Yes, I did, Elva…my dragon is… Shruikan, and he is coming here with Katrina." Spine flung himself into the air, gave a little shriek that sounded a bit like a bird's chirp and a meow, circled above them once – as if in thanks - and then sped off to find Solembum.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
"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
Roran found himself in the "holding pen", as Eragon had called it, for Saphira. He didn't really know why he'd come to this particular spot, just that it felt safe. Most of the Varden and those natural born to Surda had kept way from the "pen", and though Saphira had been obliging in acting the part of a wild beast, when she was truly just as intelligent as any man or woman – it had been insulting, but in the end necessary.
Some had come here to gawk, which Saphira had rewarded with "spit balls" of fire. They burnt quickly, and weren't that dangerous – but it earned the young dragon a certain deserved reputation as a fire starter. Eragon had thought it was cute, and no one who knew the young Rider personally had taken him aside to tell him – in the nicest way possible – that she was a huge monster spitting fire. Not that cute.
But it had been allowed for the little time they had been here – Ronan, thinking back on it, didn't think it'd been more then three days after the Battle of the Burning Plains that Thorn and Murtagh had engaged them in a flying version of "follow the leader". Wherever his cousin was, Roran just wished he'd get back to Surda soon, Murtagh or no Murtagh.
There was a noise behind him, shuffling – Roran turned to look raising his hammer ever so slightly to show he was armed.
"Easy lad, I mean you no harm. Saw you hear, thought you might want to talk." Roran recognized the dwarf as the one that Eragon had held in favor; dark eyes looked at Roran who sighed and settled back down, slumping.
"You may call me Orik, and I know you for Roran, cousin of Eragon." The dwarf came forward to sit next to him, for a while there was a tense measuring silence between them – Roran had never seen a dwarf – and did not know how to deal with him.
"What do you want?" Roran asked in a soft tone – for surely there had to be a reason, Arya kept to herself – and even the Urgals who had guarded Eragon in battle kept well away from him. Roran did not see a reason Orik would break the silence, but he had, and now Roran at least wanted to know why. To his surprise, Orik let out a bark of laughter.
"Solembum sent me after you, said we'd be good company for each other, as we've both been moping around like a pair of dogs- I can see his reasoning." Orik stated softly, after the almost baying sounds of his laughter his tone was downright mellow. The laugh, Roran realized, had been false – self mocking.
"You knew Eragon…what…" Roran couldn't get the rest of the words out, though Orik didn't seem to need him to do so.
"This will be the first time he and I have been apart since we've met – I took a real liking to the boy when I met him. Most of the dwarves did – strange, how dwarves and Riders have always gotten along though their ancestral dragons tried to eat us – wild ones still give it a try once in a great while." Orik admitted, and Roran found himself smiling a little.
"What do dwarves do that attracts the dragons so?" Roran found himself asking, though he was still wary of the other.
"Mostly, above land we farm, and below we mine for the shiny bits dragons like so much; used to be good trade for stones when the Riders were still about, and as dwarves sense the stone, we dug whole cities for it." Orik admitted, Roran blinked in shock – as if he could not quite grasp what Orik told him.
"You were alive back then?" Roran finally asked, and Orik laughed – though this time it was real.
"Oh, no – but we tell our stories passed from mouth to mouth as if it were that way. Still have a hard time writing down what we know and seen – bit like humans that way I suppose. Like farming, no books on it – though we all know it." Orik said, and Roran twisted around to see if the dwarf was telling him in jest. He wasn't, Roran swallowed down his nerves.
"Your saying you farm?" Roran asked, voice faint, Orik nodded smiling a bit.
"Oh, aye, we farm." Roran found him self surprised their two peoples shared this trait, though he didn't say that. He wondered if it had been the dwarves who had taught things like farming, and if they had what else had humans learnt from them and forgotten they had?
"You have family then as well?" Roran asked, though he though he knew the answer would be yes.
"Oh, aye – the late King was mine, and you might say Eragon and I –in the reasoning of my people - are brothers, in dwarf terms, I'm also engaged –" Orik fell silent, shaking his head in amusement for Roran stared at him as if finally seeing him.
"I…I am as well, to Katrina… Galbatrorix had her taken, I do not even know if…" Orik hesitantly placed a hand on his back, and Roran let it be, gathering himself up – he had to believe that Eragon would return, and that together they could save Katrina. Galbatrorix would not have taken her just to kill her somewhere else – there had to be a reason, though Roran was at a loss to what it could be.
"If she lives, Roran, cousin of Eragon – you have my word Eragon and I will find a way to fetch her back for you." Orik vowed, and Roran found himself nodding a grim thanks.
"Will that be your first act as King of your people, Orik, saving a human girl?" Melodious notes turned their attention to the black haired elf princess – who Roran know could soon be Queen of her own people, asked.
"Heh, might as well be, how you taking you mothers passing?" Orik asked her with more curtsy then Roran would have thought to use. Arya's eyes softened slightly, it was clear she had a certain distant fondness for the dwarf, just as he knew she had for Eragon.
"It will be a slow healing." Arya admitted, her tone indicating her sorrow.
"I'll prey for you – even if you don't believe, might find some comfort in another hoping for the best for you." Orik stated, and Arya pursed her lips – it was clear that spiritual belief was a sore spot between the two. Roran had a moment to wonder why, and then Arya frowned, puzzled.
"How did you know of my mothers passing?" She asked then, and Orik blinked at her, and then chuckled.
"Solembum. Said as a friend of yours I should know." Whoever Solembum is, Roran thought then, is spilling secrets and advice.
"That explains it, Maud – my m-mother's werecat, always made things interesting. It seems Solembum follows her in that aspect, and…Orik, thank you…for your concern." Arya said awkwardly, and Orik smiled only nodding, awkwardly, she stood there – clearly something else troubling her.
"Out with it Arya, it chills me to see you standing like you do, still as a statue." Orik encouraged in his own way.
"I am unsure of my path, and my own people would push me one way – there is no one else that is neutral that I know…" except Eragon…was what she did not say. For a moment Orik looked surprised, and then smiled warmly.
"You're talking about being Queen?" Orik asked, and it occurred to Roran he sat among the future rulers of two peoples wiser then his own. Arya nodded, and Roran realized she was asking –subtly – for Orik's advice to her situation. Orik would be King, soon enough, in his own right. And Eragon, Roran remembered what the dwarf had said, is considered his brother.
Not for the first time Roran found himself wondering how Arya felt about Eragon, he knew his cousin clung to a fleeting fancy for the elf, though it might have sprung from the desires of youth rather then a true love. Still, she clearly felt something for him to hold him in such regard and think of his well being. Roran wondered if Arya could be both Queen and Rider, then dismissed the thought, for that would be too much to ask of anyone. Still, Arya thought of Eragon at least as a friend, perhaps – like Orik, she thought of him with the fondness of a sibling. It was as if Roran suddenly found himself in a much larger world then he had thought possible only a year ago.
"I say that there is no reason to not take the throne – you are no longer needed to carry the egg. You are no longer outcast of your people. The thing I think you would most give us is your freedom; but I do not think that when Galbatrorix is gone the elves would be content to live so far from humans and dwarves, I'd like to think there will come a day when the rulers of our three peoples will sit in the same Hall and have a Council of equal parts to guild us." Orik said softly, and Arya tilted her head a faint smile on her lips.
"I did not realize you had such a hope for our future. I think, Orik, I shall become Queen with that bright future to strive for." Orik flushed at her praise, but Roran thought he well deserved it. It would be something to fight for.
Was it like that before? Roran wondered then, did the Riders cause our three races to come apart, and then remain that way because of Galbatrorix? It was a question Roran wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to.
"Indeed, and if anyone can produce such a future it is the three rulers I see in front of me." Solembum's voice rang out then, and the three turned to see him – Roran and the other two saw quickly the tiny green dragon that draped itself over his shoulders.
"I am no ruler." Roran stated softly, and Solembum's eyes met his - white fangs flashing in a smile.
"Yes, you are. If not because of your blood, then because of what you've done – taken an entire village over mountains and ocean from north to south. Such has not been done since the days of Old. The Empire will see that, but that is not important. I have other news – your lady-bride-to-be is Rider of this little green, called Spine." A flash of teeth showed his amusement.
"You have news of her? How is she – how did she -?" Roran paused when Orik glanced to him, amusement in his bold eyes.
"She is alive. Galbatrorix, according to the black dragon Shruikan, is no more a threat. Shruikan carries her in his maw to us even as we speak. We have his word, through his new-found Rider in truth, Angela, that he will not swallow her. Though the link between mind and body was severed by Galbatrorix – Angela is sure she can mend such a wound." Solembum told them, seemingly quite amused at how it was all working out.
Roran, still trying to wrap his mind all that was happening, could not speak. Orik gave him a look of fleeting pity, knowing that Roran could do nothing but wait, and then tensed when Arya spoke a question he had dared not.
"And Eragon." It was a demand, not a question, and Solembum quickly soothed the shivering Spine (for she had put magic behind her words) who blinked wide eyes at the suddenly shamed looking elf.
"Likely, he and Murtagh not long take long past noon to get here." With that news delivered, Solembum left the way only cats could.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
"Murtagh," Eragon stated softly, nudging the elder with a finger, "come now, it's time to get up – we've slept and lazed about long enough. Saphira is starting to worry Thorn with the fact we haven't eaten. I've already had to reassure her we aren't lost." If Eragon's tone had a bit of a whine in it, Murtagh knew better then to comment on it.
"I know." Came the low drawl, and dark eyes flashed up to meet Eragon's own.
"I was trying to make sure…" Murtagh didn't finish his words and Eragon only stood there looking understanding. Murtagh sighed – he didn't want to say that he was afraid that somehow these ancient walls protected him. That it hadn't been the bond that, once he left – he'd have to crawl beneath Galbatrorix's shadow once more. There were no words for that fear – yet both of them knew it had to be faced.
So, in the end, Murtragh followed Eragon out of the ancient Rider city. Somehow their eyesight had gotten better – perhaps an effect of being a Rider – for they did not take torches or light to get out of the city.
They came to a chamber that opened, for daylight spilled into it, curious – for they had not noticed it before – and maybe a bit worried they were lost and would have to call their dragons to fetch them out of the "hole" in the city, the two went to investigate.
What they found was daylight – and a floating crystal. Eragon considered the spectacle with a tilted head.
"This island must be Eoam, Oromis told me of the wild magic that worked here." Eragon murmured seemingly fascinated by the jewel. Besides the small fact that a rock the height of a man was floating, Murtagh wasn't too impressed. When he looked again to Eragon, he began to worry, a slightly dazed expression – as if he were looking, searching, seeing something else was on his brother's face.
"Eragon, what are you doing?" Murtagh demanded, he had already stretched his mind out preparing to call out to their dragons if the other answered in babble.
"Scrying. Looking in on Oromis – the Varden, Katrina…" Eragon's breath caught in his throat, and Murtagh knew something was wrong.
"Eragon, what is it?" Murtagh demanded and as Eragon answered, a part of his mind had already called for Thorn and Saphira to come fetch them.
"Oromis – my teacher and the last of the original Riders is dead…that must mean Glaedr is as well. Oh, god – Islanzadí, and Vanir…but… Maud and Rhunön are alright…for now so is Katrina. Angela is with the green dragon – that must mean it's hatched. I'll have to ask her how she got the egg…We've got to get to Surda, Murtagh. Right now." Eragon's voice had grown tensed – strained with pain.
"Why – what, Eragon, what's wrong?" Murtagh demanded, holding his brothers shoulders and shaking him out of the dazed trance.
"Galbatrorix's black dragon, Shruikan, is flying over Surda." Eragon explained shakily, pale with the knowledge that his friends and people were in danger and he could do nothing to stop it…
There was nothing he could say to make this better and he was all to glad to feel Thorn grip him with his claws holding him close to his chest like something precious. The two dragons dropped them and landed so they could mount – they did so silently, it stained at Murtagh, no matter how he wished it otherwise. Saphira was the last dragon female, she would need to mate with other dragons then Thorn, and now that they know there would be other dragons he wondered if their…relationship, could last…
Apparently his thoughts were no longer his own anymore for Saphira glanced to him, and there was knowledge in her eyes of what he worried over. Eragon tensed as she spoke to him.
Murtagh? Came Eragon's mental voice, Thorn says you worry over…us, but he won't tell me why.
Isn't it obvious, Eragon, Saphira and Thorn can not passably mate with just one dragon to revive their species, the others…Murtagh could not finish the thought, refused to.
Leave bringing back the dragons to us, Murtagh, it does not change the bond you and Eragon have – does not change the bond Saphira and I share. Thorn pushed into his thoughts and Murtagh patted him warmly, feeling a warmer connection to his dragon then he had had since it had hatched.
Thorn…Murtagh thought, wondering how to thank the dragon as he settled into the saddle of the harness, he watched as Eragon tightened the loops around his legs which circled Saphira's belly and kept him in place while aloft. As one both dragons leapt into the air, beating their wings, the wind taking them higher and toward land.
Do not be an idiot Rider-mine, just because you and Eragon wish to remain monogamous with each other does not mean I expect Saphira to do the same for me. Worry not though; our first clutch will keep us…"fond" of one another. Murtagh thought that Thorn was being truthful, and let it rest in his mind. The rest of the flight was spent with a tense sadness that was more intense then their arrival, though he remembered with a certain fondness the sight of Thorn's and Saphira's shadows dancing a game of tag across the ocean surface.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Note; There was a question of how, if Galbatrorix used so much magic to bind Shruikan, why would he let him go – or why it was "easy"? I'll take a bit of time to answer that now…
In short; magically binding someone to you is this in effect to real life, I'd think it's something like putting a collar & leash on someone. They ware it, but only you can take it off smoothly. Sure over time the leashed one could probably tear it, bit by bit, but you can always put another leash on before that happens. But if the "new" leash some how is stretched tightly (the dragon straining it by magic or death) then "cut" – and the leash happens to be elastic – it'll whip around at you and in the least leave a welt, or perhaps cut your skin. Think of that as something like a backlash. Now think of many "new" leashes straining at the same time and the possibility of them all being cut at the same time to come back at you – ow – so Galbatrorix thought "shit I'd better cut them first", so there was no magical backlash, but Galby would only have done that when he thought Shruikan was going to die. So either Galby survived or he died cutting the magical bindings. In any case, now without a dragon, he's no longer important. No – no, "buts"- dismiss him.
If he pulled a Voldemort and became a "not-dead spirit" I'm slamming him into the past and sucking him down the throat of poor Durza the Shade. That sounds very naughty. Erm…hehe…do we all want to dismiss/forget him now? Yes…
Good, readers…
No? Who said no?
Well, whatever, I need a list of titles from you. For what? …er…well you remember that little "insane" bunny horde – the one that's "evil winged fanged-and-horned demonic bunnies"? I thought you might, honestly I don't think there are that many demonic plot bunny hordes left. Anyway, short of "Slashing Eragon" for a title to a multitude of Eragon/Eldest one-shots, I'm left blinking at what to call this "unholy" madness. If you have ideas – I'll hug you, but, more seriously - winner gets to pick which guy gets first…shot in Eragon. I know, bad pun, couldn't help myself considering the nature of my request.
I'm sorry for fanfiction(dot)net screwing up my formatting, it used to be a space, five dashes, and another space then the ending notes. Can't do that anymore have to use their "perfect" lines. Bloody hell, every damn one of my stories has screwed up formatting now, that's well over 100 things I have to fix because of this sites controllers decide to get finicky. Excuse me while I go whimper/cry in the corner. Please review, you might make me feel better?