Chapter 16
Saphira and Eragon stayed for two weeks in Minas Tirith. The first week the city was very quiet. With thousands of soldiers who would usually be there missing, the streets were mostly empty. Faramir had not wasted the time they were away, though. He had five of the oliphants butchered and the meat preserved before rot set in, and as soon as Gandalf had told him of Sauron's defeat, he sent a team of men to rebuild the bridge in Osgiliath so that the army could cross over easily when they returned.
Eragon spent the week visiting those in the healer's building, as well as talking with Gandalf, Faramir and Sam. Sam had woken three days after their arrival in Minas Tirith. Still exhausted, the first thing he had done was eat enough food to fill three grown men, and then ask for dessert. Faramir laughed until tears escaped at this request, but nonetheless found the finest pudding in Minas Tirith for the hobbit.
When Sam was ready, Gandalf sat him down, gave him a pipe with the finest Longbottom Leaf in the land – or so Gandalf said – and asked him to tell them everything. The tale was both shocking and inspiring, and Eragon found himself in awe of the hobbits and what they had achieved. He also had the question of what happened to Frodo's finger answered; it was bitten off. When Sam was finished, Eragon said what he had been thinking all along.
"You are a very good friend, Sam."
The hobbit blushed, but didn't look away. "Who are you?" he asked bravely.
Eragon opened his mouth to tell him, but as he had done before, Gandalf cut him off.
"This is Eragon, Sam. He is a friend. He saved us many times." Gandalf then told Sam of all that had happened since they were separated, but whenever he talked about Saphira, he simply said, 'Eragon's companion'."
When Gandalf finally finished, Sam turned to Eragon and asked, "Can I meet your companion, Mr Eragon Sir? I would very much like to meet him."
"Of course Sam," Eragon said, standing. "Her name is Saphira," he corrected.
"Saphira…" Eragon heard the hobbit whisper behind him. They walked through the city, the winding streets leading them upwards until they reached the gate to the seventh level. Gandalf and Eragon shared a look as the gates parted, the old wizard smiling broadly in anticipation of what was to come.
Saphira was stretched out on the grassy courtyard, soaking up the sun like a cat. Eragon turned his head just in time to see all the colour drain from Sam's face. Faramir and Gandalf both chuckled loudly at the poor hobbits expense.
"But…but…dragon…" he spluttered.
"Yes, my lad," laughed Gandalf, "A dragon indeed. Come. You wanted to meet her. Saphira doesn't bite."
"Not hobbits anyway," Eragon added, and they all laughed again, and this time even Sam let out a small smile.
Saphira's head was resting on her paws, her eyes closed. As they approached, one great eyelid opened with a snick, her great blue, cerulean eye following them as they stopped in front of her.
Be nice, Eragon warned.
Sam surprised Eragon with what he did next. He visibly straightened, trying to make himself as tall as he could, and then he walked right up to the end of Saphira's nose.
"Uh, hello, Missus Saphira. I'd just like to thank you very much for saving my friends. I don't know if you can understand me, but, uh, I wanted you to know that. Thank you." He stood back, not sure what to do next.
Saphira lifted her head off her paws and opened both eyes, looking straight at Sam.
I can understand you perfectly, Sam, she said. His eyes widened as much as he could. And you are welcome.
"You can talk!"
Yes. She blew a puff of air at him, making him fall over.
"This is even better than Mr Bilbo's stories!" he exclaimed, a delighted smile on his face. They all laughed again, revelling in the fact that they no longer had anything to worry about.
Saphira spent her week in a very enjoyable way. When she wasn't with Eragon or Sam – in whom she had found a very good friend to play riddles with – she was hunting – either prey or orcs.
After a couple of days, her daily flights took her over the returning army, and she was able to report their position each day. In this way, Faramir was able to prepare for their arrival.
On the day before they were due to arrive back, Eragon went to Osgiliath to help finish the bridge. The men rebuilding it had done a remarkable job, but the bridge was large and wouldn't have been finished in time without Eragon's help. Work that should have taken them three days was reduced to only one with the help of magic. The bridge completed, they headed back to the city.
Aragorn rode through the city the following afternoon leading the thousands of victorious soldiers. Women, children and the men that had stayed behind lined the streets, cheering and throwing flowers. There were many happy reunions, but not every family saw their loved one come home, and there were plenty of tears as well.
The first thing Merry and Pippin did was to find Frodo and Sam. Frodo was still asleep, but he had been moved to his own quarters and away from the healers building. Sam sat by his side every day, as had Gandalf. The reunion between the hobbits was a happy one, and it made Eragon's heart glad.
The day after the army's arrival, Frodo woke up. Eragon had never seen a group of people so happy as those in the Felllowship when they were finally all together again. Sam wasted no time in introducing Eragon to Frodo, the hobbit not wanting the Rider to feel left out of their group, but the young gardener took particular pleasure in introducing Frodo to Saphira, who he had quickly become fast friends with.
Three days after he returned to the city, Aragorn's official coronation was held. The entire population of the city somehow fitted themselves on to the seventh level, filling every possible space available. Saphira perched herself on the top of the stone citadel, looking down on all those below.
Eragon stood with the hobbits at the end of the aisle that reached down through the crowds. Gandalf and Gimli stood on the steps of the citadel where the coronation would take place, Gandalf to crown Aragorn King, and Gimli holding the cushion on which the intricate silver crown rested. Eomer and Theoden stood side by side at the front of the crowd, while Faramir and Éowyn were together, hand-in-hand.
I wonder when that happened, Eragon thought.
Legolas was standing off to the side with a group of elves Eragon had never seen before. He hadn't even heard of any elves entering the city.
The trumpets sounded, the crowd fell quiet and the ceremony began.
Aragorn appeared from the side, dressed royally, and slowly walked up the stone steps. He stopped on the second step from the top, facing Gandalf, who smiled at him.
The wizard turned to Gimli, who looked the happiest Eragon had ever seen him, and gently lifted the crown from its cushion. He turned back to Aragorn and raised the crown for all the crowd to see, then slowly set it down on his head, the silver in stark contrast to his long, black hair.
"Now come the days of the King!" Gandalf proclaimed, his voice magically enhanced by Eragon for all to hear. "May they be blessed!"
Aragorn took the last two steps, and turned to face the crowd. All of a sudden there was a roar as the people showed their love and appreciation for their new King. Aragorn raised his hands, and they quieted.
"This day does not belong to one man," he said, his louder-than-normal voice falling on thousands of attentive ears, "but to all. Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace." Joyous applause emanated from the crowd, and petals drifted down from above.
Aragorn descended from the steps, walking slowly down the aisle, talking to his people, to the thousands who had come to see him begin his reign. About halfway down the aisle, Legolas stepped out from the side and he and Aragorn embraced. They exchanged a few words, and then Legolas stepped aside to reveal the other elves. Aragorn looked wide-eyed from Legolas to his fellows, as they parted to reveal a beautifully ethereal woman in their midst.
The crowd had quieted as they witnessed this, but their silence turned to joy when their new King rushed forward and scooped the woman into his arms, spinning around and kissing her lovingly.
Well, Saphira snorted, that was unexpected.
The pair walked arm-in-arm through the people, who were cheering even louder than before. As they approached where Eragon was standing, he stepped back and tried his best to blend into the crowd. This day was not about him.
Aragorn stopped in front of the Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry, who were dressed in the finest clothes that Minas Tirith had to offer. The four hobbits bowed low, only for Aragorn to stop them.
"My friends," he paused, looking at each of them in turn. "You bow to no one." He got down one knee and bowed his head, and like a wave the thousands of people around them followed suit, until the hobbits were the tallest people in Gondor.
High up above, Saphira roared and let loose a jet of flame, startling many only for them to stand and start cheering again. Aragorn gestured for the hobbits to come with him and, spotting Eragon, invited him too. They walked back to the citadel and Aragorn mounted the steps once more to announce, to the crowds' delight, "Let the feast begin!"
The party went on and on. When the highest level had cleared a bit, Saphira came down to the courtyard, and like they had at the Varden camps, children clambered all over her like the mighty dragoness was nothing more than a plaything. It made Eragon's heart swell with love for his partner to see her so gentle.
The feast was as good as any Eragon had ever seen, considering the circumstances. There was food and ale aplenty, and the songs continued well into the night. Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry even gave a rousing rendition of 'The Green Dragon' to thunderous applause.
Unable to fit into any of Minas Tirith's buildings, Aragorn made sure that Saphira wasn't left out. The party was brought out into the courtyard, as well as several barrels of ale specifically for the dragoness. It was the first and last time that anyone in Middle Earth had seen a dragon drunk.
Eragon spent the following three days gathering supplies for the journey home. Not only did he need to get food for himself, he also needed some new clothes and he had to make some repairs to Saphira's saddle. The months upon months of flying and recent battles had worn some pieces down to the extent that they needed to be fixed before they could go on another long journey.
The day before Eragon and Saphira left, Legolas approached him with some of the elves who were at the coronation.
"Eragon, I am glad we found you," Legolas said. "We have a gift for your journey." One of the elves beside him stepped forward and handed Eragon several leaf-wrapped packs. Lembas.
"Thank you," Eragon said earnestly. "This will help me greatly. Can I ask, how do you make lembas?"
"It is a very complicated process, and not one that we elves usually share," Legolas said cautiously. One of his fellows put their hand on his shoulder. "But we will make an exception for you," he finished. "Cayhlan is the best of us. He should explain."
Legolas stepped back, and the elf who handed Eragon the lembas started to talk. "It is as Legolas said, the process is long and complicated. I am not sure how well you will understand it."
"What if you explained it a different way?" Eragon suggested. "With your permission, I can look into your mind. If you recall the memory of you making the lembas, I will be able to see exactly what you did. And I swear to you that I will not look at anything in your mind you do not want me to."
Cahylan looked to Legolas. "You can trust him," the blond-haired elf said. "Eragon is true to his word. He will not do anything without your permission."
"Then yes," Cahylan said, turning back to Eragon, "I will explain this way. How do I do it?"
"Just close your eyes and concentrate on the memory of making the lembas. Relive it. Remember what you saw, how it smelled, what you heard. Go through every step in your mind. Tell me when you begin."
Eragon reached out with his mind, finding Cahylan's and tuning in to the memory that was coming to the fore.
"Now," Cahylan said.
Eragon watched closely as Cahylan took him through each stage of baking the lembas, from choosing the ingredients to the songs sung as they cooked in the fire. The memory was over soon and Eragon stored it away, noting every detail.
"Thank you," he said gratefully.
"You are welcome." Cahylan bowed his head.
That evening, Eragon had his final meal in Minas Tirith with his friends. The conversation was light, with everyone telling stories from their past. Aragorn spoke of his travels as a Ranger, Legolas of his childhood in Mirkwood and Gimli of the rejuvenated Dale and Erebor. The hobbits shared tales of the Shire and its people, Gandalf talked of his many fireworks and Eragon shared some stories of his adventures in the Spine.
It was late in the night when Aragorn stood and raised his glass.
"I want to thank you Eragon, not only on my behalf, but on the behalf of every man in Gondor – "
" – and Rohan," said Theoden, raising his glass.
"And Rohan – " Aragorn started, only to be interrupted again.
"And of all the hobbits in the Shire," Pippin added.
"And the elves," Legolas stated
"Aye," Gimli agreed, "And of all the dwarves in the land."
"On behalf of every person in Middle Earth then," Gandalf said dryly.
"Indeed," said Aragorn, with a twinkle in his eye. "Well then, on behalf of every person in Middle Earth, I thank you Eragon. Whether we would have won this war without the help of you and Saphira, I do not know, but you saved countless numbers of my people's lives, and that debt can never be repaid. To Eragon and Saphira!" He raised his glass and drank.
"To Eragon and Saphira!" they echoed.
"And I would like to thank you," Eragon said to Aragorn, "For trusting us, and for letting us help. Not every man would have made that decision. To Aragorn!" Eragon raised his cup and drained it.
"To Aragorn!" they echoed again. There was silence as they drank, only to be interrupted by a tired roar from outside. They laughed into the night.
As Eragon returned to his quarters and sat on his bed, he realised it would be the last time he would sleep in a bed for months. He had one more thing to do before he could savour his last night of proper sleep however.
He once again took out his mirror and said the words that allowed the dream-stare. A room appeared. A seemingly empty room.
"Hello? Is there anyone there? Hello?" Eragon called. He could hear footsteps getting louder and louder until someone skidded into view. A young boy stood panting, but as soon as he saw who was in the mirror he straightened up and tried his best to look impressive.
"My Lord, Queen Nasuada is at court. I can tell her you are here if you like."
"Rider Eragon is fine. And yes, that would be great, thank you." Eragon hated the title of Lord – it made him feel like a stuffy, old man. He had to wait about fifteen minutes before the door of the room opened again and Nasuada came sweeping in.
"Eragon! Is everything all right?" she began.
"Yes, everything is fine. The war here is over. We won. There is no threat to Alagaesia."
"Oh, thank the gods," she said, visibly relieved. "That's the best news I've had in weeks! And yourself and Saphira? You're both ok?"
"We're fine now. Actually, tomorrow we're leaving. We're returning home."
"I am glad," said Nasuada after a pause. Alagaesia needs the Riders, Eragon. And the dragons."
"We know, Your Grace."
"Well then. If you'll excuse me, Eragon, I must tell the Council this news. And I'm sure you have other people to talk to," she said knowingly.
"I do. Stay safe, Nasuada."
"And you, Eragon."
The mirror once again reflected his own face. "Draumr kopa."
"Orik," Eragon greeted.
The dwarf's head shot up from the plate of food he had been concentrating on.
"Ehgun!" he shouted, his mouth full. He swallowed and tried again. "Eragon! How are you, mine brother? Do I take your presence in the mirror to mean that you have won?" Orik was trying his best to appear nonchalant, but Eragon knew that he was genuinely worried.
"Yes," Eragon said, putting his friend out of his misery. "No danger will come to the Beors from this land."
"That is fantastic news! You have saved knurlan everywhere, and they do not even know it! Guntera is truly proud of you, mine brother," Orik said with a smile.
"I am glad," Eragon answered. "I am leaving tomorrow, Orik. I will be back in Alagaesia within the year."
Eragon didn't think it was possible, but Orik's grin became even wider. "This is a day of great news indeed. We will start planning the feast now!" he joked, laughing. He turned serious for a moment. "Ah, I must go Eragon. I must needs inform the Grimstborithn that we are not under immediate threat. Although," he said thoughtfully, "We might continue with strengthening our defences… Anyway," he shook his head, "Have a safe journey Eragon, and don't forget to scry me once a moon's turn!"
"I won't," Eragon grinned. "See you soon, Orik!"
The dwarf raised his tankard with a smile, and the image faded.
Two down, two to go, Eragon said to Saphira. She acknowledged but didn't reply.
"Draumr kopa," he intoned. A beautiful wooden room appeared – a kitchen. There was a woman stirring something in a pot, a baby on her hip.
"Katrina!" Eragon said happily.
The lady with red hair whipped around, a look of shock on her face. When she saw Eragon, the shock turned to joy.
"Eragon! I can't believe it! How are you? We're all missing you so much!"
"I'm good Katrina, I'm good. How's everyone in Carvahall doing?" He was smiling properly for the first time in months.
"Everyone is well. You wouldn't recognise the village Eragon!" She saw his face fall slightly and quickly corrected herself. "Oh, don't worry, not like that! I mean, the people are all the same, Horst's house is more magnificent than before. Most of the buildings are in the same place – they even look the same! But it's more of a town than a village now, Eragon! Roran built a stone keep on top of the hill, and the whole town has a wall around it, just in case something ever happened. And we have so many wonderful people! After the first winter, people started arriving from all over the Spine – to live in Carvahall! They said they wanted to live under Stronghammer's protection, that he could keep them safe." Eragon could see her swelling with pride, reflecting his own feelings towards his cousin.
"And how is little Ismira?" Eragon asked, trying to catch the attention the attention of the little girl on Katrina's hip.
"She's well," Katrina said fondly. "She turned two a few weeks ago." Eragon felt a pool of sadness in his stomach that he had missed it. "Ismira," Katrina said, "Ismira, look." She pointed at the mirror. "That's Uncle Eragon. Say hello."
"Ello Ehgan," Ismira said quietly.
"Hello Ismira," Eragon smiled. "Happy birthday!"
"Fank you," she said, looking straight at him, her emerald green eyes piercing through the divide.
"What age are you?" Eragon asked gently.
She looked at her mother for a second, who nodded, and then down at her hands. Slowly, she held up two fingers.
"Two?" Eragon asked. She nodded vigorously. "Woah, that's such a big age! You're a very big girl, aren't you?" Again, she nodded. "Will you do something for me?" Eragon pretend-whispered.
"What?" she whispered back.
"Will you look after your mummy and daddy?"
"Okay," she agreed eagerly. She looked up at Katrina, who had pretended not to hear.
"What did Uncle Eragon say?" Katrina asked her, smiling.
"Secret," Ismira said firmly. Eragon and Katrina both laughed.
"Katrina," Eragon asked when he had regained his breath, "Is Roran around?"
"Of course! He's just outside with Albriech and Baldor. I'll get him." She bustled out, Ismira waving goodbye over her shoulder.
Roran came in a few seconds later, smiling like an idiot and, Eragon noticed, Ismira in his arms, the little girl looking smug.
"Eragon!" Roran practically bellowed, a grin splitting his face. "It's been too long, brother."
"I know, Roran. I'm sorry, I've been busy. And so have you, so Katrina tells me," Eragon added quickly, before Roran could question him.
"Very. We've been building and farming as much as we can, trying to get Carvahall back on its feet," Roran said with a smile. "And it's better than we could have ever dreamed Eragon, it really is. Carvahall is a proper town now. We're a centre of trade in the north."
"Garrow would be proud, Roran," Eragon said simply. It was the highest compliment he could give.
"I know. He would be proud of both of us." There was silence for a few moments as the pair took in the other. "And how are you Eragon? Where are you? When are you coming home?"
Eragon laughed at all the questions. "We are a very, very long way away from Alagaesia. And tomorrow we're leaving. Tomorrow we're coming home."
"Do you hear that, Ismira?" Roran said delightedly to his daughter. "Uncle Eragon is coming home!"
"Yay!" she squealed. "Uncle Ehgan and Spheera! Uncle Ehgan and Spheera!"
The cousins laughed at the little girl's enthusiasm.
"I'm sorry I missed her birthday, Roran."
His cousin shrugged. "There's no point in apologising Eragon. You can't help these things."
"Well even so, I am sorry. Is it alright if I send her a present?"
"Of course," Roran said, bemused. "But how?"
"You'll see," Eragon winked. "I have to go Roran. I'll talk to you soon."
"Goodbye Eragon. Stay safe."
"Bye bye Uncle Ehgan." Ismira waved at him.
"Bye Ismira," Eragon said. "Remember our secret!"
The last thing he saw was his little red-headed niece giggling to herself and Roran's confused face.
Come on Eragon, hurry up. You need to sleep.
Alright, you overprotective lizard.
Hey! Saphira said indignantly.
Eragon was chuckling as he said the words for the last time that night. "Draumr kopa."
A nearly empty council room appeared, the long oak table deserted but for one figure.
"Lord Dathedr," he said.
The elf turned his head towards the sound, seemingly not startled by his voice. "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Eragon Shur'tugal."
"Atra du evarínya ono varda, Däthedr-vodhr."
"What can I do for you, Lord Eragon?"
"I would speak with Queen Arya, if I may."
"Of course. I will let her know you wish to speak with her," Dathedr said formally.
One minute the hall was empty, and the next she was staring back at him.
Eragon opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.
"So," Arya said icily, "You're not dead."
"What?" Eragon said, completely taken aback. "No, I'm not – "
"Well then why didn't you scry before now? You said if you won the battle you contact me. You said it would be just over a week. It has been three weeks Eragon. I thought you were dead," she finished furiously.
Eragon was speechless. He didn't know what to say and he was sure that if he did say something he would probably make it worse.
She's right you know, Saphira said. And I did tell you to scry them last week.
I know, but still…this seems unreasonable.
Is it Eragon? If it was the other way around, would you be so calm? If you though Arya was dead, and then it turned out that she wasn't, that she had put off telling you that she had survived a battle and was in fact alive, would you be so forgiving? She is angry because she cares.
What do I do? This is not how I wanted this to go.
Apologise. Now.
"I am sorry, Arya. I really am."
"You should be," she said, and he saw a single tear slip down her cheek.
He searched desperately for something to say. "We're leaving tomorrow. Me and Saphira. We're coming home."
"How long will you be?" she asked, her tone softened ever so slightly.
"Eight months, I'd say. Maybe a bit more or less."
"Eight months," she repeated quietly. "Fírnen will be glad to see Saphira."
Eragon smiled sadly. "And she, him. And I, you. I've missed you, Arya."
"Yes well, if you miss me so much, tell me if you're alive next time or I may kill you myself." She smiled at him. "I miss you too, Eragon. Friends should not be apart this long."
Friends, he thought.
"No," he agreed. "They shouldn't."
They simply stared at each other for a while, and it was only when the tension became too much that Arya said, "Safe trip, Eragon. Give Saphira my regards."
Before he could even say 'Goodbye,' she disappeared.
Eight months, Eragon thought as he drifted off to sleep. Just eight months…
Eragon and Saphira expected to slip off quietly that morning, to say their goodbyes and leave. Just like that. But somehow word of their departure had spread, and a sizeable crowd was waiting to see them off.
As Eragon sat on Saphira's back, he looked out at the people who had come, many of them soldiers he had saved and their families. He spotted Jenny standing in the crowd and gave her a wave and a smile, the friendly healer returning both.
He sighed and looked down at those closest to them. Last night, he had received gifts from each of them. Gimli gave him a smooth stone with the dwarvish word for 'friend' carved on to it. A rune stone, he called it. From Gandalf, he received a bag of fireworks – only to be used, he was told, at a very special occasion. Legolas had already given him the gift of lembas. Eomer handed him a beautifully carved piece of wood showing the Riders of Rohan on their horses, ready for battle. The hobbits had two gifts; the first was a pipe and a bag of Longbottom Leaf, pillaged from Isengard. Although Eragon didn't smoke, the gift reminded him of Brom, and who knew? Maybe in a hundred years he would like to try the pipe! The second gift was for Saphira; with the help of the other members of the fellowship, the hobbits had written her a book of riddles. Saphira was delighted with it. The final gift was from Aragorn. Knowing Eragon's thirst for knowledge, he had presented him with a very rare book: the History of Middle Earth.
The hobbits and Saphira were all having one last game of riddles, each trying to outdo the other. He hated to end it.
"Well, I guess we'd better get going. We've a long journey ahead of us."
Saphira leaned down and touched her snout to each of the hobbits' heads.
"Thank you again," Aragorn said to the pair.
Eragon smiled. "This is your time," Eragon said to them all. "This is your age. Let it be remembered for all of history as the most successful age Middle Earth has had."
They smiled back up at him, with sadness and with hope.
Saphira shuffled her wings, clearing the space around her. She crouched, her legs tensing, and then leaped, propelling herself a hundred feet into the sky before she had to bring her wings down. She flapped hard, momentarily suspended in the morning sky as gravity fought against her. But as she always did, the sapphire dragoness won the battle with nature. As she rose higher, she circled the city below.
Eragon glanced down and saw the people cheering, his friends waving. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the white tree of Gondor. No longer was it dead. New growth was erupting along every branch. Gondor would continue. The Age of Men would flourish and succeed.
Saphira roared, the sound echoing off the stone city, and breathed a jet of fire, the blue flame scorching the air. The cheering below intensified as Saphira turned herself mid-air, angling her body towards Alagaesia, its whereabouts a constant presence in her mind.
She roared again as she flapped hard, gaining speed as she flew, a flash of blue streaking across the sky. Towards home.
AN That's it! There's one very short chapter left. I hope you liked it Let me know what you think! Nym x