Author's Note: Hey all. This is just a tiny little warning that there's some Eragon/Rune stuff in this chapter that's a little higher than K+. Nothing graphic or anything like that, just lots of feelings and them talking. Rune's still a maiden, and…oh, any more explaining and I'll give it away. Read! Hearts, Kittie
Crack!
The whip lashed the frail body that was tied to the ground, scoring a bloody mark across her bare back. The younger Rune flinched.
"Stop!" she cried, falling to her knees in front of the man who held the whip. "Please, stop!"
The man stared at her cruelly. "This," he said, "is what happens when Princesses ask for things they can't have."
Rune met the dying girl's eyes with her own wide green ones. The girl blinked at her, a stare full of pain and sadness. The ten year old began to cry.
Rune glanced back at the man, watery gaze unfocused. "Please," she whispered. "I don't mind if I don't have a playmate. It's alright. Just let her go. Please."
The man smiled.
Crack!
"Rune!"
Rune blinked, her sorrel-leaf eyes focusing again. Eragon was staring at her strangely.
"Rune, come on!"
She glanced. The whip cracking had been the signal. The hunt was on. She shivered, but the day-vision of a moment before was fading fast.
She kicked her horse to a trot. Tawnyclaw took off from her shoulder.
"Ride through the center of the forest, until he finds the hart," she ordered.
Rune began silently counting to a hundred. At ninety-eight, Tawnyclaw came barreling back from the sky. Hawks count a bit faster than humans, it would seem.
Hart Starpelt graces glade, he said, Doe and Fawns alongside, south. Red buck in dirt patch, north.
Rune nodded. "The dirt patch," she said. "There's a buck in the dirt patch."
Tabor glared at her. "I don't want a buck," he snapped. "I want the white one."
Rune looked at him as if he was stupid. "Birds are color blind," she lied. "He thinks it's your buck. He also sees a smaller one to the south. Eragon and I will go after that one, in case."
Tabor frowned.
Kel stepped in. "That's a brilliant idea. Isn't it, Marcus?"
Tabor nodded hesitantly.
"Last one to the dirt patch walks home!" Kel called, kicking her horse into a canter and riding away through the forest.
Tabor followed her, and the remainder of his party followed him, leaving Eragon and Rune alone in the forest.
"Alright," she said. She turned her horse to the south and nudged him to trot. "We'll go slow. We don't want to scare him."
Eragon fumbled with his own mount.
"You've never ridden hunt seat before, have you?" Rune questioned.
He frowned at her. "I was a farmer. Of course I've never ridden hunt seat."
She sighed, patting the place behind her in the saddle. She scooted up. "You'd better ride with me then," she said. "Or we'll never save Starpelt."
Eragon mounted behind her, slipping his strong arms around her waist.
"Hold on to my hips," she instructed. "Holding my waist limits my movement."
Eragon shrugged and moved his hands down.
Soon they were trotting south, towards the glade where Tawnyclaw had first met the ivory-pelted hart. Rune paced expertly with the horse, while Eragon seemed more to bounce along. Nonetheless, they made it.
When they reached the glade, Rune slowed the horse down. She peered through the brush and gasped.
Starpelt raised his antlered head to the noise. He glanced around, before seeing Rune.
Show yourself.
Rune blinked in surprise, stepping out of the cover of the bush. She held Eragon's hand and pulled him out with her.
She stared at Starpelt. The hart stared back. Finally, Rune bowed low.
The deer flicked his ears. What use does man have in such a place?
Rune frowned softly. You can speak.
I can. As can you.
But…what are you?
Starpelt stepped towards her. He towered above both humans, his impressive rack of antlers looking sharp and dangerous. I am Prince of this Glade. I am Prince of this Forest. What are you?
Rune bowed again. I…I am Princess of Uru'baen. Elf Friend, and companion of the hawk Tawnyclaw.
The deer nodded in respect. The hawk is noble. His love for you runs deep. What is your name, child?
Rune, she said. What is yours?
I haven't a name in your language.
Eragon was staring at the deer's brilliant pelt in wonder. You are beautiful, he said. Can all deer talk?
The buck lowered his antlers. I was conversing with your female friend, he said. Be silent, if you please, Rider.
Eragon gaped.
The scent of dragon is thick upon you, the deer said in response to his unspoken question. It is pleasing to know the Riders are returning. My kind have little dealings in human matters, but it is better for us when our fields are not scarred with your blood. Dragons have been our predators since the beginning of time, but we respect them. It is the way of things.
Rune tentatively reached out and touched his flank respectfully. We have come because there are men who hunt you.
The deer pawed the ground. Your efforts are noble, he said. But if it is the time for me to be hunted, then my time has come.
You welcome death?
I know it will meet me, one way or another. Death, I'm afraid, is an acquaintance we all must knock antlers with. Or shake hands, in your case.
Rune nodded. So you will allow yourself to be killed for your pelt?
The hart let out a snort. No, he said. I shall run. For your sake, Rune friend of Tawnyclaw the Hawk. And for the sake of my doe and my fawns.
Your family.
He cocked his head. In a way. I sired them and she is my love. If family that makes them, then yes, my family they are.
Are they like you? Eragon asked.
We are of one flesh, are we not?
But…you…you can think.
Starpelt lowered his antlers at Eragon and thrust them dangerously at him. I can think like you, is what your meaning is, he said. Do not think the only creatures who are creatures are those whose thoughts pass as yours do. Words can express not the way my kind feels.
Eragon looked at the ground, reproved and a bit ashamed.
Rune touched his shoulder and smiled at him, before saying, May I call you Starpelt?
The hart nodded gracefully, inclining his head. If pelt of the stars is what I am, my name it shall be. Rune friend of Tawnyclaw the Hawk, Eragon Rider of Blue Dragon who Hunts, I bid you farewell. I run.
With that, he was gone, darting away through the brush nimbly.
Rune sent happy colors to Eragon, a content rainbow. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"I am happy for him," she said quietly. "He is wise in a way I can't understand."
Eragon shrugged slightly. "He is. Do you suppose I'll ever get this Rider thing right?"
"Of course. Why ask when it's obvious?"
"Because. What Starpelt said was true. I…I'm not as open minded about other races as I should be."
She thought for a moment. "Maybe. But you can always learn from your mistakes."
Eragon sighed. Rune stood on tip toes to kiss his lips. "Don't look so down. You're a fine Rider and a wonderful sweetheart. I love you, and you have friends who are loyal and true. What more do you want?"
He smiled and wrapped his arms around her tightly. His lips met hers and stayed there.
It was so easy.
So easy to just let her hands slip under his tunic. So easy to just sink to the ground, entangled. So easy to just let go entirely, forget anything and everything that could go wrong and for a moment just love.
So easy.
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Súndavar."
Súndavar found himself in a room of light. Elegantly tiled floors, golden walls, sunlight casting brilliant shapes upon everything. The light was streaming in from arched windows all around, an endless blue sky being the only view.
The room's only inhabitant was a girl. Her pale hair was long and flowing, her skin clear and her milky eyes bright. She stepped towards him, a smile on her face.
"…A…Alexia?"
She tucked her hair behind her ears. "Hello, Súndavar."
He stepped away in fright, then forced it down and went to hug her. His arms passed through her body uselessly.
She just smiled sadly, her eyes full of understanding and compassion.
"Lexi, where am I?"
Her eyes moved over him, and Súndavar realized she could see. "You…you are…you are dreaming,"she told him. "You're dreaming. I'm dead, you know."
"…I know. I miss you."
"Do you?"
Súndavar thought about it for a moment. "Truthfully, I haven't thought of you much. But I wish you were alive still."
"So do I." She sat down cross-legged on the ground. "Súndavar, we need to talk."
"About what?"
"Rune," Lexi answered. "Sún, do you know what you're doing?"
"What do you mean? Of course."
She sighed and looked at the ground. "Súndavar, you're sleeping in another girl's bedroom. Her head is on your chest and your arms are around her shoulders."
"Yes?"
"And that girl isn't me, and it isn't Rune. If love is what you want…"
"What?"
She tried to touch his hand, only to find herself pass through him. She started crying silently to herself. "Súndavar, I love you. I always will. But I'm part of Hope now. When Rune finds out what you're doing here, she's going to be heartbroken."
Súndavar turned away. "What am I doing?" he asked. "Is it wrong to love?"
"No. But Rune loves you, and you're brushing her off for another girl."
"It isn't my fault," he defended. "If she would be a little more cooperative, maybe I could be happy with her. But she's so…"
"She's content. She's innocent."
"She's stubborn."
Lexi sighed. She ran her hands down her bare thighs, smoothing breeches that were no longer there out of simple habit. Her uncomplicated white gown was little more than a fitted, beltless tunic. She played with her blonde hair for a moment. "Súndavar…I want you to be happy."
"Why can't I be happy with Taten?"
Lexi sighed. "If you can, then maybe you weren't the person I thought you were."
"Hey!" he cried. "If you recall, you and I weren't exactly a straightforward couple either. I had promised myself to Rune. I don't know about you, but I'd say that's as faithless as me spending a night with Tate."
"You never spent the night with me," she said softly. "And Rune was little more than a half-dead corpse on a funeral bed. Besides," she continued, "One act of unfaithfulness does not justify another."
Súndavar tried to touch her, just to be reassured, but again his fingers met nothing. "It isn't as if Taten and I are doing anything," he muttered pathetically, "I haven't even kissed her."
"But you want to."
"…Yes."
Lexia stood up. "Súndavar, if love is what you want, you're going about it the wrong way. Finding comfort in the arms of someone who you barely know just shows you are insecure and looking for affirmation of your own worth."
"Don't go all head-doctor on me."
She shrugged softly. "Why not? Nothing I do matters anymore. Nothing can hurt me, no one can bring me back. I'm dead, Sún. And dead I'll stay. I can't hurt you, either. It's pointless for me to try to scorn you out of anything. I'm…I don't think I'm capable of anger anymore, Súndavar. I don't think I'm capable of anything. I'm little more than a memory."
"That's not true," Súndavar said, but there was no feeling behind it.
Lexia held her hand out. "Place yours next to it," she said.
Súndavar obeyed, and a look of sure pleasure came over Lexia's face. "You're warm," she said.
"Living things tend to be that way."
Lexia laughed. Her laugh sounded like water running over glistening stones, like the ones Shay had brought up from the Lake at Ellesméra. For a moment, she looked like the old Lexia, filled with joy and pleasure.
She leaned forward and her lips grazed him. It wasn't a physical feeling, but Súndavar felt the kiss all the way up his spine.
"It's time to wake up," she said. "I love you, though. Will you think of me, sometimes?"
"Yes. I'll try."
"That's good," she smiled. "Bye, Sún. Think about what I said."
"I will."
The gold and white room began to fade, along with the beautiful girl the room contained. Her dress shimmered and her eyes glowed with warmth for just a moment, before everything went dark.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Rune lay next to Eragon on the ground. His bare chest glistened with sweat. She looked up at the sky from where she was nestled next to him. Her head rested on one of his arms.
"Eragon?" she asked, looking at the stars.
"Mmm?"
"Do you love me?"
She had asked Murtagh that question once. So long ago, it seemed. Rune's mind flashed back to everything that had happened since then.
"Maybe. Do you love me?"
She looked at his face for a moment. In the past hour, he had grown from a boy to a man, at least to her. "I think so."
She glanced to where their clothes lay on the forest floor. Both of their bodies were slick with perspiration.
"Then I think I love you too."
She sighed. "Am I still a maiden?"
"I don't know," Eragon replied truthfully.
"Nor do I."
"We didn't…"
"I don't think we did."
They were silent for a moment.
"Eragon?"
"Yes?"
"Why does it seem like we're talking in short, simple sentences but not saying much at all?"
"Because there isn't much to say."
She rolled over. "I suppose not. Are you my lover now?"
"I don't know."
"I'm worried."
"About?"
"Súndavar."
Eragon frowned slightly. "Why?"
"Because I don't know where he is. And because he'll want what you got."
"What did I get?"
"I don't know."
Finally they both settled on silence. It was easier than trying to converse. Rune reached for their clothes, handing Eragon his before getting up to put on her own.
He watched her bare body in the moonlight, skin white like snow. He loved every inch of her, loved the way she had scratched at his chest and screamed for him to stop, then shivered in pleasure and kissed him softly and begged for the moment to last forever.
He wasn't sure exactly what had happened. One moment they were talking in the glade, and after that…things blurred. He didn't think they had made love, but how was he to tell? The time had passed in a fog.
She was only fifteen, while he was nearly eighteen, and that bothered him a tiny bit. He liked – loved – her, but…
"Eragon?"
"Yes?"
"I don't think I should kiss you anymore."
"I think you're right."
She gave him a hand and helped him to his feet. "Good. We're still friends though. Right?"
"Of course. We'll be best friends."
She smiled. "I'd like that."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Súndavar sat up on the mattress that he and Taten were sharing. He glanced around Taten's room. The tiny loft crawlspace above the barn was patched and weathered, but it was cozy and private. On the walls torn pages from books, mirror shards, and clippings of ads proclaiming things 'Lost!' or 'Stolen!' hung in a loose, unorganized array of hues.
He looked at his face in one of the mirror shards. His Shade eyes stared back at him, as unfamiliar to himself as Rune's body had looked on the night the slavers had shamed her. Both images had made his stomach tingle. For entirely different reasons. There was nothing pleasant or enticing about his bloody irises. They made him feel sick.
He glanced at Taten on the pallet. Her brown hair streamed over her face, obscuring her closed eyes.
His mind circled back to his dream. Alexia's image was still burned in his mind. His spine tingled, thinking of her kiss.
A dead girl's kiss. Was he going insane or what? He briefly wondered if being a Shade made you have hallucinations.
Maybe…maybe I should end it, he thought for a moment, his hand poised above a mirror shard. It would be easier, after all. No sweethearts or lovers, no spirits invading him.
Wait. Spirits? Shouldn't he be able to feel them? Súndavar ran his mind through his body. He only felt himself.
So…if there were no spirits…he wasn't a Shade. But what happened to his eyes?
Confused and frightened, Súndavar pried the mirror shard off the wall.
I'm sorry, Rune, he thought, before digging it deeply into is skin. Just this once.
The pain made him cry out. He wasn't used to it anymore.
Taten woke up.
She saw what he was doing. Getting up, she came and sat by him.
"What are you doing?"
"Go back to sleep."
"I asked a question. I'll kick you again if you don't answer."
"I'm cutting myself."
"Do you do that often?"
"Not anymore."
Súndavar didn't see it coming. Her knee came up between his legs, her fist connected with his jaw. He was lucky, and passed out.
She caught the blood covered shard as it flew through the air.
"You're hot," she said to his form, "And I like you. But you're really, really dumb if you think I'll let you do that in my room."
He moaned something and laid still.
Taten wiped the mirror on her pants, stuck it back on the wall, and climbed down the ladder. She could smell Everett making breakfast.
Serves him right, she thought. He hogged the blankets all night.