(A/N Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, my attention span didn't allow me to do a proofread.)
Light flickered across Jarvis's closed eyelids. Slowly, he rose from where he had been lying on the floor. He was in a small room with a low roof, probably an inn somewhere. Gingerly he picked himself up, self consciously feeling his shoulder. The wound was gone. Silently he opened the door and crept into a larger room. There was a cot in the corner, a table in the center of the room with a mirror on it. It was midday, and he could hear the sounds of market drifting through the windowpanes. He was still fully dressed, his cloak wrinkled from where he had slept on it. He walked to the door and tried to turn the handle. It was locked. Cursing, he went to the window, but it would not open. Frustrated, he pulled back a fist and smote the glass as hard as he could. His fingers stopped an inch from the pane, and no matter how he threw himself at it an invisible barrier stopped him cold. He drew back and went again to the door, crouching and inserting his hunting knife into the door jam. After a few moments it became obvious this was warded as well and he gave up. There was no other way out. At the sound of footsteps he retreated and drew his short sword, waiting behind the door, his back pressed flat against the wall.
There was a click and the door flew open, the elf striding through it. Jarvis turned as silently as he could and stabbed the blade towards her bare neck. As with the glass, the tip stopped inches before it made contact. The elf turned with surprise and then a smile, seeing the assassin desperately pushing against the blade, trying in vain to make it go forward.
"So you're awake."
Jarvis sheathed the blade and made for the open door. The elf called out to him.
"I wouldn't be going just yet."
He stopped and gritted his teeth.
"And why not."
"Because of this."
Jarvis turned and saw the elf shaking a small vial of green liquid, a wide smile gracing her angular features. Jarvis sighed.
"And what, pray tell, is that?"
"Poison. Of a sort. It is a very rare extract from a spiky plant that grows high in the Beor Mountains. Without the antidote administered weekly you will die a very painful and protracted death. When we reach the Varden I will neutralize its effects, but not a moment before."
Jarvis's face contorted.
"You poisoned me?!"
"Yes I did, and we should get going, the guards are up in arms over the breakout, it will be a miracle if we get out safely."
The elf picked up a satchel that was lying next to the cot.
"I am going to change, and then we will make for the gate. My name is Arien by the way."
"Your name means little to me at this point" Jarvis hissed
***
Arien and Jarvis turned a corner and the imposing southern wall of Dras-Leona loomed before them, casting long shadows in the noon sun. The guards were leaning against the wall and talking, one of them made some kind of joke and raucous laughter filled the narrow street. As Jarvis and Arien approached there were some low murmurs and the talk died down. The pair halted in front of the gate as the guards resumed their positions, the red flame of Imperial soldiers emblazoned on their tunics. One of them stepped forward, holding a piece of paper in his hand.
"And you are?"
Arien paused, not knowing what to say. Guards didn't usually hold up travelers on their way out, it was in they were concerned about. Jarvis spoke quickly.
"I am Bradord, and this is my wife Melinda."
"What is your business leaving Dras Leona?"
"We are headed to see her sister in Bellatona."
The soldier regarded him for a second and then held up the slip of parchment. On it were two faces, one fierce bearded man, and the other a fair young man, likely not even twenty years of age.
"Have you seen either of these men?"
Jarvis stared closer at the sheet. Two names were emblazoned in block letters underneath each picture, and a reward. Roran and Eragon, wanted fugitives from justice, should not be under any circumstances approached, to be considered highly dangerous. The reward was an earldom for each man captured.
Jarvis shook his head. He had heard stories of the dragon rider and his cousin.
"No I have not."
The soldier nodded.
"Move along."
Once a safe distance outside the walls they both exhaled a deep breath. Jarvis gritted his teeth and Arien let out an excited laugh.
"I thought for sure we weren't going to make it, good thinking!"
Jarvis nodded in a non-committal way.
The dirt lead them down past Helgrind and into a small valley, the lights of a village gleaming in the distance. Arien pointed to a set of rocks jutting up from the earth a ways away from the town.
"We should make camp there."
***
Jarvis dropped the assorted branches he could find on the fire and sat down across from Arien. The silence was broken only by the crackle of the flames. The assassin wrapped himself tight in his cloak against the chill wind that blew softly over the plains. Arien was fiddling with a dagger, flipping it over one finger onto the next, perfectly balanced. She was curious about this human, he was unlike the others she knew, few though that number was. In fact it was only a year ago that she had left Du Weldenvarden to assist the resistance, much to the chagrin of her mother. Jarvis seemed, cold, detached, and though he was certainly not a saint, she could sense he was not just another gutter rat. It was not greed that motivated him. Without a word Jarvis turned away from the fire and lay down on the ground, pulling the folds if his cloak tighter around him. Arien lay awake for a while longer. Her excitement at finally being of some use to the Varden made sleep hard in coming. Eventually however, her eyelids drooped and she fell into a light slumber.
The next morning she woke with a start. The sun had already risen and she cursed Jarvis for not waking her. Jarvis however, was not to be found, as she soon realized. A little edge of panic gripped her. Where had he gotten to? Her answer revealed itself in a lone set of tracks leading down the hill and towards the village.
***
Jarvis stepped out of the shop, tucking the small pouch of pipeweed into his pocket. Arien had been sound asleep when he awoke, and hopefully he would be back before she did something stupid. He was walking along the main road out of town when a small pub caught his eye.
"What the hell, always time for a drink."
The place was full of farmers, having a drink before the hard days labor in the fields. Jarvis slid up to the counter and waved down the barman.
"A mead if you please."
The man nodded and filled a stone mug with a cold liquid from under the counter. Jarvis grinned and toasted the barman.
"To freedom!"
The man chuckled and walked away to service other customers. There was a tap on his shoulder, Jarvis turned and almost spit out his mead. Arien had donned a cap that hid her uniquely shaped ears, but she had apparently abandoned enchantments to hide her features.
"How did I know you would be here?"
"I was thirsty."
"You could have woken me."
Jarvis grinned
"You looked too comfortable, I couldn't bear to wake you."
"We need to leave."
"Let me finish my drink."
There was a wolf whistle next to them and a rather portly man stumbled up to Arien, obviously drunk.
"A fffine morhnin to yah, mihlady!"
Jarvis pushed the man away
"Go bother someone else."
The man stumbled a little but came back, red in the face.
"Whhats your malady?"
Before Jarvis could respond the man pushed him back. Hard. He toppled of his stool and into Arien knocking them both to the floor. Jarvis got to his feet and was about to say something but realized the whole pub had gone dead silent, and all eyes were fixed on Arien. Jarvis looked back and saw in horror that the fall had knocked her cap off, and her long pointed ears were showing for all to see. A wave of panic gripped him and he turned back to the drunkard, who opened his mouth and pointed.
"By gaw, shhes an el-!"
Jarvis grabbed the man by the throat and whipped out his shortsword, pressing it against the man's neck.
"Not another goddamn word!"
There was absolute stillness for a few seconds as all eyes fell on Jarvis, who kicked the stunned man away and held out a hand to Arien. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. Jarvis sheathed his sword and they both swept out, the elf quickly folding her ears under he cap. It would not be long before the tale reached the guards, and as soon as they were clear of the village proper they began to sprint, heading for the rocky hills in the distance, Lake Leona on their right and a long stretch of farmland to their left.
***
The sun was peeking just above the horizon, poised to disappear and plunge Alagaesia into darkness. Arien and Jarvis rested just behind the top off a steep hill. The landscape was desolate, populated by waist high scrub and the occasional wind bowed tree. After a brief rest they made off again, skirting the road as the sun sank beyond the rim of the world. There were scraggly hedges on either side of the road, descendents of some well manicured plant gone to seed. Suddenly Arien ducked. Jarvis looked down at her, puzzled, and she yanked him down next to her just in time. A two man horse patrol trotted around the corner, their approach had been muffled by the grass.
"Wait until they pass!" Arien hissed to Jarvis
The hoof beats grew nearer until they were not ten paces away, then they stopped. A mans voice startled them.
"It was right here, I swear I saw a man!"
The other horseman responded gruffly
"I'll wait here, you go take a look."
"Why me?"
"Because you're the one who saw it, that's why!"
Jarvis heard footsteps coming closer, poised to stumble over them at any second. Silently he pulled a throwing knife from his belt and crouched low. At the last second he sprang upright and tossed the dagger with thumb and forefinger. It missed the younger guard entirely, and flew past him, burying itself in the eye of a bearded horse soldier behind him. The older man slumped over into the dust, killed instantly. The younger soldier fumbled for his sword but Jarvis leapt over the bush and delivered a crushing blow to his temple with a bracer, knocking him out cold. Arien jumped up and Jarvis pointed.
"Get the dead one and the horses off of the road, and see if you can cover up the blood, there may be more of them out there."
The elf sprang into action, approaching the horse, speaking softly to them. Reins in hand, she threw the dead man over the back of one of the steeds and brushed dirt over the pool of blood that stained the side of the road with a foot. Jarvis grabbed the unconscious soldier by the back of his uniform and dragged him unceremoniously into the brush. The pair walked for a good distance until the hills obscured their view of the road. Jarvis dropped the soldier he was carrying and pulled the corpse off of the horses back, dragging it out further into the wilderness. When he returned he saw Arien bent over the unconscious horseman. He was young, no more than eighteen winters.
"Move."
Arien backed away as Jarvis grabbed the man roughly by the front of his shirt and leaned him against a tree. He ripped a piece of cloth off of the mans jerkin and tied his hands tight. Kneeling down in front of the sleeping man he pulled out his hunting knife an slapped the soldier across the face with his free hand. Blearily, the man returned to consciousness. Arien watched apprehensively. She had not been told what to do with a prisoner. They could not keep him, certainly, and letting him away was a risk too. For the time being she simply watched Jarvis. The man's eyes rolled around for a moment and then focused on the hooded assassin crouched before him, then flashed to the knife. He started to babble.
"Hey, there's no need for this, I'm just a foot soldier, I-"
Jarvis grinned and pushed the knife blade onto the mans throat
"Stop. Talking."
The man started to sweat and fidget, trying to edge his exposed neck away from the sharp edge of the knife.
"Who sent you? Are you looking for us?"
"No, nobody! We were just delivering messages to Dras-Leona, I swear it! I swear upon my fathers grave!"
Jarvis nodded
"Good, that's all I needed to know."
The assassin drew the knife back and placed a hand over the mans mouth. The soldier began to cry. Arien leapt forward and grabbed Jarvis's hand.
"Wait, what are you doing?"
Jarvis turned and fixed her with a cold eye
"We can't take him with us, and we can't let him go. All of Galbatorix's soldiers take an oath in the ancient language to obey him, it doesn't matter how much he wants to help us, it will be a matter of time before the oath makes him turn us in, and then we'll be run down like dogs. Is that what you want?"
Arien stood for a moment and then nodded silently. The mans sobs reached a fevered pitch and despite Jarvis's hand she could hear him pleading with them. She stood transfixed in horror as Jarvis plunged the blade into the mans neck. It took him only a few seconds to die. The assassin pulled his blade out of the young soldier and wiped it on the grass before sheathing it. Arien turned away and placed a hand on her stomach, trying not to throw up. This was not anything like how she had imagined working for the Varden. Killing was supposed to be done on the field of battle, or through some skillful maneuver, and yet what the young assassin had just done felt more like cold blooded murder. Her voice came out in a whisper.
"That was wrong."
Jarvis regarded her coldly.
"I thought you elves were made of sterner stuff. This is the nature of conflict, take it or leave it."
The elf sat down, leaning against a tree.
"I wish I could leave it."
Jarvis nodded and patted her on the shoulder
"Water under the bridge."
Arien repeated the words to herself.
"Water under the bridge..."
Jarvis concealed the bodies and they made camp farther from the road. Although she had no trouble getting to sleep that night, the crying mans face plagued the young elf's dreams.