Author's Note: I'm SO sorry this has taken forever. :( Summer, you know. Hopefulling during the school year I'll be a good deal more able to update quicker. Hearts to all, Kittie
The cloaked figure paced angrily.
"Dead?"
The man before the figure nodded, bowing low. "It cannot be explained," he said, with fear. "He met the child's eyes – naught more."
"And his body?"
"I left it."
The figure clenched its hands beneath the dark cloak that encircled it. It continued to pace, more angry than before. "Then the child must not be trifled with again," it said. "We'll secure her in another way."
"Lord Or—"
"Hush!" the figure's hand shot out, grasped the man's throat tightly. "The boy. You mentioned a boy, whom she was fond of."
"She called him Freoh," the man wheezed.
The figure let its hand drop. "Freoh. Death."
"Is it an omen?"
Beneath its hood, the figure sighed. "We will wait. And we will see."
ooooooooooooooooooooo
"It was in my eyes," Eth said. "And in my chest."
She glanced at Freoh with eyes that looked dead. "He is dead, isn't he? Really dead?"
The boy nodded. "Yes. He is dead."
Eth was silent again. She pulled her knees up to her chest and began to slowly rock, back and forth, back and forth. Lady Rune opened a small music box, and a comforting melody began to play. It was a ballad to Shadow, and although there were no words, it seemed to calm Eth's nerves.
Eragon was tapping a booted foot uncomfortably.
Eth's grandfather, the Shade Ieran, sat in a corner. He was relatively young, for a grandfather, and quite handsome. His hair was still the red it always had been, and his face was free of wrinkles. His bright maroon eyes watched the daughter of his late son carefully.
There were really no words to say.
Freoh – who, of the group, knew Eth the very best – sat down next to her, and brought her into his lap. She didn't seem to notice much, for she continued to rock and hum softly to herself.
"It really was in my eyes," she said, almost too softly to hear. "It is their fault." She looked at her hands, then closed her eyes very tightly.
When she opened them again, it was the next morning, and she had slept.
ooooooooooooooooooooo
Eragon hated Council Sessions. They were dull, and slow, and more often than not went around in tiny circles before arriving on a conclusion that most everyone wasn't satisfied with anyways. As Head Rider, it was mandatory he be there. However, that didn't mean he had to like it.
"The next subject to be considered," Lady Rune was saying, in that voice she had for such matters, "is the issue involving my daughter, Eth, Freoh the brother of Shadow, and the unidentified man in the Castle Gardens."
"What is there to consider?" Lord Athelion questioned. "The man is dead. Your daughter is quite alive, as is the brother of Súndavar."
Rune cringed at the name, but forced a determined look upon her face. Eragon, who watched, found himself quite in love with that look, for he knew what lay behind it.
"Yes," she said. "But we must determine whether or not to take action. You see, if this was a kidnapping attempt – which I think it may have been – we must call into question the motive of the man, and his superiors – have he any. If it was a murder attempt, there could very well be a plot against myself and the twins as well. It was too well planned for it to be an isolated event."
Caitlin had a frown upon her face. "Milady, we have no information to enable us to track this man to his origins. We don't know who he is, nor where he came from."
Saphira spoke in everyone's minds. Then we must find such information. The people look to Lady Rune and her family as figureheads of the government.
"The Riders rule us," Lord Athelion protested. "Lady Rune is nothing but a placeholder."
"The Riders protect you!" Rider David growled at him. "The people need someone to look to, someone who understands. That is the position Lady Rune is in."
Rune stood up. "Hush! Lord Athelion, Rider David, now is not a time for arguments about the necessity of a figurehead puppet queen. We all know that our decisions are made as one, for the people. I am but one of you all. I bear not the title Queen, but Lady." She closed her eyes for a moment, then reopened them. "Nonetheless, if a viper was in your very home, each one of you would try to eradicate it. One of my children has been threatened – there may be more danger on the way."
Topaz, Rider David's mount, cleared her throat. For now, she said. We should do nothing. We will keep on the watch. We will stay alert. But drastic measures before we know full stories will lead to nothing but heartache.
"Rider David and I will not go back to Melian," said Eragon. "We will remain here and guard the Family, and watch for more action of the type."
The Council members pursed their lips, but none argued. The decision was made.
Are all Council Sessions boring and pointless? Rune asked him in his mind, surprising him. This one has awarded us time together. I am glad you do not have to leave again.
Perhaps. Eragon smiled at her. It is my duty as a Rider to protect the kingdom.
And your duty as a father to protect your children.
It is good that, for once, those two duties do not contradict one another.
ooooooooooooooooooooo
The days after were quiet, and non-eventful. Things settled back into a normal routine, and it wasn't long before even the strange death of the mysterious man faded to the back of everyone's mind.
Even Eth began to enjoy days more – although some would have said she was thinner and frailer and far more easy to startle than before. Often she would turn away meals, and never would she meet anyone's eyes.
Luné was sitting in her the room she shared with the little girl, going about tidying it up. Although she considered herself royalty, slavery was outlawed in Alagäesia, and the servants they hired had better things to do that clean up after Lady Rune's daughters.
She picked carefully through Eth's clothes, looking for any that needed to be washed. The girl, as far as she knew, was outside, playing one of her silly games.
"Luné?"
Luné turned, surprised that she would hear Freoh's voice. It wasn't as if she didn't hear it in her mind always, but this was real.
The boy was leaning in the doorway, his black hair falling over one eye. Luné's heart fluttered – he looked so wonderful. He always looked wonderful.
"Yes?" She asked, trying to keep the flutter in her chest out of her voice.
He heard it anyways, and smiled, cocking an eyebrow. "Have you seen Eth?" he questioned.
Of course, Luné muttered inwardly. Eth.
"She's outside," she muttered, turning away and folding another article of clothing.
Freoh stepped into the room, glancing around. He picked up the little music box of Eth's, opening it and letting the ballad play for a few notes.
Then he shut it again and turned away, looking pained.
Luné frowned slightly. "Are you alright, Freoh?"
He nodded. "Fine, princess." With that, he walked out, leaving Luné staring huffily at his retreating form.
ooooooooooooooooooooooo
Eth focused on the rock, squinting her eyes dangerously at it.
Break, she urged it, break. Her hands were little fists, her nose all crinkled and her lips pursed into a tight line.
Freoh's footsteps broke her concentration. The rock didn't seem to notice.
"What are you doing?" he asked her. She had known it was him just by the way the air smelled, by the way his boots touched the ground lightly, like a cat. His voice sounded good to her.
She glanced up at him, blushed, and patted the ground next to her. He sat down.
"Are you pretending something?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No. Although I should, perhaps it would help."
"Help what?"
Eth shrugged, picking up the rock an showing it to him. "I want to break it," she said. "If I broke that man, I should be able to break a rock, shouldn't I?" her voice was pleading.
"I suppose so."
"Because it can't just be that I killed him, can it?"
"I suppose not."
"But I've been trying to break it for days, and nothing happens," Eth complained. "Maybe I really can't do it."
Freoh shrugged. "What did the rock do, that it needs to be broken?"
"Nothing, I suppose."
"Then why try to break it?"
Eth pursed her lips, then nodded. "I suppose I see your point. Perhaps…it only works when it needs to?"
Freoh shrugged again. "I don't know. Shadow would know, but Shadow's gone."
Eth snuggled up to Freoh. "Shadow. Shadow and Death. Brothers." She grinned up at him. "Let's go to the statue," she said. "And you can tell me that story again."
Freoh laughed. "Alright."
The two left the garden. The rock continued to sit.
ooooooooooooooooooooooo
Freoh curled up in his blankets, stifling a yawn. The day had been a long one, between telling Eth about how things would be if Shadow hadn't died – a story which changed a little with each and every telling – and chores, and lessons from Ieran, and rikan practice.
His entire body was bruised from practicing with the rikans. He had a set of them – a gift from Ieran on his thirteenth birthday – and had always been good with the weapons. He supposed that was because of his Shade blood. He could spin them and flick them and move with them like a dancer, as if there wasn't a single hard bone in his body, just liquid metal and magic and beauty. But that wasn't enough for Ieran. He wanted Freoh to be able to fight with the beautiful weapons, to be able to use them as they had been created for, back in the Dragon Elf wars when Shades would fight for either side in return for gold and blood-red stones.
But Freoh much preferred moving with them as a dance. He didn't want to learn to fight, learn to kill a man with something that he enjoyed doing. He didn't want his dance to turn deadly.
He supposed Shadow would have. Shadow would have been overjoyed to learn a new way to make himself stronger, a better fighter. He was a warrior born and bred, a Shade by right and blood and lifestyle.
Freoh was nothing but the half-blooded product of a few hours of forced pleasure from a girl too young for any of it.
Ieran had never kept it a secret about Freoh's mother. He didn't seem to mind. Rune had been more of a mother to Freoh in his initial few weeks, and then Mistress Keladry and Alanna the Elf girl. After he had come to the Castle at Ilian, Ieran had been too busy to care for him in a fatherly way. He had stayed with the other children, taken care of by Lady Caitlin and Lady Lily and sometimes Shay, if she wasn't too busy. But none of them had been particularly motherly.
Now Ieran had taken over some fatherly duties – teaching him about the world, and about the wars, and – to Freoh's dismay – about fighting. But a birthday gift every year, along with a few lessons a day for the last few months wasn't enough to make up for years of being ignored. It was no secret that Ieran would have preferred to have Súndavar than Freoh.
He had never talked to Eth about these sorts of things. The girl held Ieran in such high regards, he doubted anything he said would change her view.
The boy curled up into a ball, and felt the tears stain his cheeks. He hated Shadow for dying and leaving him all alone. Imagine, if he had a big brother. To share things with, and laugh with, to fight with and wrestle with and tell jokes with and sing with and cry with. He had Eth, and he loved Eth, loved her so very much, but she was a child. She couldn't understand him, not really.
And Luné? They had been such good friends, as children. But now, he could see her as nothing but a vain twit, caring only about herself and her looks.
Even Leon, good and kind as he was, had changed. He and Luné were just so…so royal.
Freoh glanced at his nightstand, where the closed box was. Inside, he knew, was Súndavar's dagger. He knew what Súndavar had used it for, even though no one had ever told him. Sometimes he wished he were brave enough to do the same.
A hand over his mouth made him jump, and a sudden pain in his head made him moan. Then there was nothing but gentle, forgiving sleep.
oooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Luné? I can't find Freoh."
Luné glanced upwards, tucking her silk hair behind one ear. Her ears were rounded, with only a tiny hint of the elven point at the very top. She looked at Eth from under her long eyelashes.
"I haven't seen him today either," she admitted. Secretly, it gave her some pleasure that the boy hadn't been in Eth's company. As far as she was concerned, he spent far too much time with a girl who was too young for his company.
"He didn't come to breakfast, and Ieran hasn't seen him," Eth murmured mournfully. "I thought maybe he was playing the hiding game we used to play, but I can't find him in any of the places, and no one has seen him since last night."
"Freoh is too old to play a silly hiding game," Luné said spitefully. "He's not a baby."
"We played it just last week," Eth said innocently. "He hid so well it took me an hour to find him. The only way I found him way because he brought snacks, and Lacey the kitchen hound smelled them and I followed her."
Luné sniffed. "Well, I haven't seen him. If I do, I'll tell you."
Eth smiled, and nodded. "Alright," she said. "Thank you, Luné."
As soon as the little raven-feather haired girl was out of earshot, Luné added, "Not."
If she saw Freoh, there was absolutely no doubt she would keep the encounter all to herself.
oooooooooooooooooooooooo
Leon pulled the bowstring back, aiming at the target. He let it go, and it sailed into the center.
He yawned.
"Nice shot!" Eragon congratulated. "Can you hit it from farther?"
Leon shrugged. "Maybe. I've never tried."
"Leon?"
Eragon and Leon turned to the sound. Eth stood there, looking positively frightened.
"What's wrong?" Leon asked. He stepped towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I can't find Freoh," she said, quietly. Eragon took one of her hands.
She looked into the Rider's eyes, and he didn't flinch. There was not very much that made him flinch anymore. She blinked quietly at him.
"Freoh?" Leon glanced around, then bit his lip. "Did he come to breakfast?"
Eth shook her head. "No," she said. "I'm scared. We always walk together after breakfast. We always do, Eragon. He never misses it. Ieran hasn't seen him either – he was supposed to go to rikan lessons after our walk, and then to lunch, but he wasn't there."
"What about the library?" Eragon suggested. Sometimes Freoh could be found poring over old Shade books and manuscripts, studying art forms and dancing among the shadow-rid people of old.
"He's not there either," Eth said. She seemed near tears. "Or in the Kitchens, or in the Tower where he sometimes likes to sit. He's not in the stables either."
"Maybe he went into Ilian," Eragon suggested. "That would keep him all day."
"He wouldn't go without telling me," the girl said quietly. "He promised that I could go with next time."
"What about his room?"
Eth blinked, as if she had never thought of that. It hadn't really occurred to her that Freoh had a room somewhere – she had never seen it.
"I suppose I could check," she said, blinking. "Where is it?"
"Ask Luné," Leon recommended. "If anyone knows, it's her."
"Why would she know?" Eth questioned.
Leon laughed. "She makes it a point to know such things about him. Why would she know that his favorite color is green, like Shadow's eyes, or that his favorite food is black bread dipped in melted white cheese with onion broth? She knows."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Eth knocked quietly on the door, feeling her heart beating hard. If Freoh wasn't here, he was lost. She wasn't sure how she would get to sleep that night, without him there to tuck her in and kiss her forehead and wish her sweet sleep.
There was no answer behind the wood door. Eth pursed her lips, letting her fingers tighten around the door handle. She turned it gently. The door swung open easily, noiselessly.
Eth stepped gingerly into the room. It was dark, and she could see nothing that was inside. But it smelled good, sweet and boyish and clean, like Freoh's hair and neck and clothes.
"Freoh?" she asked, quietly, frightened to break the silence and solitude of this place. It was Freoh's place, and it felt like him. Quiet, gentle, loving but somehow deep and sorrowful and maybe even frightened.
Eth moved gingerly across the room, to the curtains. She pulled them apart, letting the sunlight stream in. The golden glow illuminated the room, giving light to the place Eth's guardian spent the hours when he wasn't working or practicing rikan or studying or with her.
The whole place seemed covered with treasures. Eth moved through it almost as if it was a fairy-place, not quite real. This was something of Freoh she had never ever seen before, and it awed her.
She picked up a figurine that sat on one of the many scattered tables and desks and work areas. It was a snake, wrapped around a brilliant stone. It took a moment for Eth to realize that it was made of wood, rather than flesh. She turned it over, and caught sight of the engraving on the bottom.
To Súndavar
Love, Ieran
Eth squeaked a little, setting the figure down again. Súndavar! The little snake had been her father's. She touched it again, lightly, stroking the little engraved and painted scales.
Something on another desk drew her attention away from the snake. The entire desk was scattered with drawn pictures. Most depicted a boy who was about Freoh's age, and a dragon. There were pictures of the boy with the egg, pictures of the boy flying for the first time. Pictures of him and his dragon fighting enemies, pictures of him with a beautiful girl, showing her the world from dragonback.
As Eth flipped through the pictures, she came upon a great many with a new theme. Although they too depicted the boy, these pictures were of blood and gore, of lost battles and burning dragon carcasses. The dragon's skeleton, lit aflame. She felt her stomach turn over. Certainly Freoh han't rawn these? They were of brilliant quality and talent, but looking at them made Eth feel sick. She flipped one with an image of the boy making bloody marks on his wrists with a dagger over, not wanting to look at it anymore. The boy looked like Freoh.
She blinked, for on the back of the drawing, Freoh's messy scrawling handwriting had written something. She squinted at it.
He is so sad, so scared. And angry. I wish I knew who he is, and what he has to do with me. These dreams hurt me. When he hurts, I hurt. All day today I felt the wounds he made in his wrists as if I had made them in my own. But there was nothing there, of course. I wish I could tell Eth – or anyone. But I don't think I can. He doesn't want me to.
Eth's eyes widened, and a small cry escaped her lips. She dropped the paper and darted from the room, closing the door behind her. She breathed deeply, feeling her heart pounding. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath.
Eth walked away from the room, having little more idea where Freoh was.
Or who Freoh was.
She did know one thing, however, and that was that she was not going into his room again.
