The sun was holding out with all its strength, keeping night at bay. The sky was a soft purple, and the air was cool on Eragon's face as they approached the tents housing the people of Surda. Campfires blazed all around filling his nostrils with burning wood and boiling stew. His stomach growled at him, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the fighting began. Eragon rubbed his stomach as he got off Saphira outside the ring of tents that led to King Orrin's quarters. A quick scan showed people milling about casually. Some were tending their food, while others tended their camps. Two plain clothed Surda guards stood outside Orrin's tent, accompanied by one of the largest Kull Eragon had ever seen along with a tough looking Varden soldier.
Nasuada and Nar Garzhvog are here.
Two dwarves were comparing hammers off to the side meaning Orik was inside. Elves don't usually use guards, so they might be inside as well. Eragon felt a slight twist in his gut at the idea of being the last one to show up.
He nodded to the two Surda guards who immediately stood at attention. The Kull bowed his massive head and put a fist to his heart. "Firesword," he said.
"Kingkiller," said the Varden soldier as he bowed his head too.
"Shadeslayer," said the two Dwarves when they noticed him, each bringing their hammers to their hearts. Eragon nodded to each in turn and then walked past, reflecting on how odd it felt to be revered by them. He looked back at Saphira who inclined her head toward him and then made her way around to the backside of the tent. Eragon turned back and pulled back the flap to the tent. It opened into a small waiting room with simple wooden benches lining the sides. Eragon could picture the people of Surda sitting here to be seen by their "mighty" king. When he reached the other side of the room he began to make out voices. It indeed sounded as if he was the last one to arrive. Taking a deep breath, Eragon pushed through the second flap and walked into the main room.
Seven were seated within the circular space with Saphira's head resting in an opening temporarily made in the back to accommodate her size. A small fire danced in the center, its smoke floating lazily through the hole in the roof, casting a warm light throughout the space. Eragon could see the first stars blinking in the darkness beyond. All eyes immediately landed on him as he stepped through, some tense, some tired, but all expectant.
"Eragon!" Orik exclaimed as he got up from his seat and trundled over to him. His foster brother grasped his forearm with gusto. "Never have I been prouder to call you my brother. What you did today will be sung in the halls of our home for generations."
"Thank you," Eragon replied sincerely. "I'm glad to see you're still in one piece." Orik smiled, the cuts on his face threatening to open up again.
"It'll take a lot to keep this Dwarf down. And knowing I have the mighty Kingkiller on my side adds a certain amount of confidence, eh?" He patted Eragon on the arm and made his way back to his seat. Others were up and facing him now. Naz Garzhvog was next to greet him.
"Firesword," he said as he brought his large fist to his chest. "Today you gave my people a new standard of strength. You will forever be honored among us."
"Thank you," Eragon said as he intoned his head. Naz Garzhvog nodded and sat back down. Two elves were standing along the side of the room, Lord Dathedr and Arya. Lord Dathedr's calm face seemed almost pleasant at his sight, his brow relaxed and the hint of a smile on his face. He didn't say anything but nodded in Eragon's direction and then sat back down.
When Eragon looked at Arya, he immediately felt uncomfortable. The lines of her neck were taught and the muscle in her cheek was clenched. She was focusing on the ground by his feet and when she noticed his eyes, she gave a curt nod and sat back down, finding that spot on the ground once again. Eragon could feel his stomach sinking lower and lower with each passing moment that her eyes avoided his.
He was brought out of his head by Nasuada's voice. "Eragon, you may sit over here." She gestured to an empty seat next to Saphira. Nasuada was wearing a simple purple dress that exposed her arms, her scars from the Trial of the Long Knives visible on her forearms. Her frame still seemed too thin but her eyes were just as fierce as they were the day she became leader of the Varden.
The King of the Werecats, Grimmr Halfpaw was curled on a chair on Saphira's left. The Werecat merely made eye contact with Eragon as he made his way to his chair. Eragon took it as a sign of respect, as Werecats hardly even recognized the existence of humans.
Eragon sat down in his chair, his hand absentmindedly reaching under Saphira's scaly chin to scratch it. The sensation gave him a sense of comfort, of familiarity in the face of what was about to be big change.
At the back center of the whole room rested the King's chair, a makeshift throne that was just a larger chair than the others with a cushion on its seat. Orrin rested lazily with a goblet in one hand and his chin in the other, his elbow on the armrest. When Eragon looked at the King, he lifted his head slightly, his eyes slowly focusing on Eragon's. "Good work today, Eragon." His words were slow, almost slurring.
Eragon smiled slightly. "I'm glad you approve."
Orrin gave a simple grunt and put his chin back in his hand. Eragon turned his attention back to the rest of the room and could feel the tension rising. No one spoke, and all eyes, except Arya's, were on him. He noticed the way she drummed the armrest with her fingers. The others seemed to be watching his every move, almost waiting for him.
"Well then," Eragon said, leaning forward in his seat. "If it's all the same to you all, I'd like to begin." If it was possible, the room seemed to get quieter. "A new ruler needs to be appointed. Too many pieces are in motion for us not to give the people a single person to look to. They need someone to guide them through this transitional period, someone that will become the symbol on which the Empire will be rebuilt."
"Well said, Eragon," Orik stated.
"I agree," Nasuada said. "We cannot afford to go any longer without knowing who the next ruler will be." Her eyes glanced at Eragon as she spoke. "This person needs to be someone who the people will gladly follow, who has demonstrated the ability to lead. Someone who is comfortable dealing with the politics of Alagaesia, and someone who can lead in a time of war."
"Yes, yes. We all know who fits that description," Orrin interjected. "Just say what you all are thinking already."
Nasuada's eyes narrowed at the slouching King. "Fine." She turned to look at Eragon. "Eragon, you are the most obvious choice to become king of the new Empire. You defeated Galbatorix, the people all admire you, and they would not oppose you taking the throne." Her eyes were strong, watching him, gauging him. The lines of jaw were pronounced. A slow look at those around the fire revealed variations of the same expression. They all looked like they were holding their breaths. He could feel the moments slipping by, each one slower than the last. Were they worried he'd say yes? If so, why would they say he is the obvious choice?
Eragon let his mind wander for a moment. He imagined himself as King, ruling over all the people he had fought so hard to protect. He liked the idea of being in control of their protection, but he did not want to dictate their lives. A sour taste formed in his mouth and he sat back in his seat. "No. I do not want the throne," he said with finality.
Eragon felt the tension in the room evaporate instantly. Nasuada's shoulder's relaxed, and King Orrin sat up, alert for the first time since Eragon had arrived in the tent. Lord Dathedr looked at him curiously, and Arya looked at him in the eye, but only for a moment. Did she even care one way or they other? Her eyes found their home on the ground once again. Orik gave a small chuckle, tapping his warhammer.
They are relieved, but too careful to say so, Saphira observed.
"I'm confused. You all did not want me on the throne?"
"Eragon," Nasuada said to him. "You would make a great king. You already are a great leader, and after today you are a hero to all of Alagaesia. However, Galbatorix was a Dragon Rider, as are you. Someone with so much power and such longevity has the potential to eventually lead his people astray, and no one would be able to stop him." Eragon understood what she was saying. It was the exact reason he did not want to be king. Even though he fought for the people to free them from Galbatorix, Eragon was too similar to him. It would be too easy for him to become just like the evil king, or worse. "We would never oppose you if you wanted it, but we did think someone who was not a Dragon Rider might be better suited for the throne," she said almost sheepishly.
"Relax," Eragon said with a smile. "I have no intention to rule. Defeating the King was the right thing to do. Just because I happen to be the one to do it, does not make me automatically the right person to replace him."
"You might have made a great king after all," Lord Dathedr remarked.
"I appreciate the kind words," Eragon replied. "Besides, I am already spoken for as the leader of a group," he said. Nasuada looked at him and smiled. The others looked at him with confused expressions. He guessed Nasuada had not gotten around to telling everyone the news. Eragon leaned forward in his chair and said, "The Dragon Riders are coming back." A collective gasp went up from those around the fire, followed by a barrage of questions. Eragon put up his hands to quiet everyone, and then proceeded to tell them the news about the vault and the eggs and how some were marked for future Riders. When he finished, he sat back and waited for their reactions.
"Eragon, this is incredible," Lord Dathedr said slowly. Eragon remembered how much the Elves wanted Saphira to hatch for one of their own. He could only imagine how Dathedr felt know realizing the Elves would have their chance at producing a Dragon Rider once again.
"Aye. It's unbelievable really. The Riders are coming back," Orik said in nearly a whisper.
"So you see, I could not be king even if I wanted to. It will be my responsibility to lead the next generation of Riders. I cannot run an Empire at the same time," Eragon concluded. He entertained the idea of telling the group that he also planned to leave. That in order to bring back the dragons and ultimately the next generation of Riders, he has to be away from all those he cared about. He stomach sank deeper inside him. He bit back his tongue and decided the time wasn't right.
"So, Eragon will not be the King," Orrin said as he took a swig of his wine, a smile forming on his stained lips. "Now we need to come up with other nominations for King."
"Or Queen," Arya said softly. Orrin's smile faltered.
"Or Queen," Orrin mumbled. "At any rate, I can think of only a handful of candidates for the throne. However, I believe that the King of the Empire should be someone who has experience ruling. Someone who has been a King before will fit seamlessly into the new position as King of the Empire."
"Oh?" Orik chuckled. "So are you nominating yourself?"
"Why yes I am, Dwarf. Do you have a problem with that?"
"If I did, would you want me to tell you?"
"No. You can keep your objections to yourself. This is a matter for humans to decide. Honestly, you all don't even need to be here," Orrin said as he looked at the Elves and Naz Garzhvog in turn. Orik stiffened and Naz Garzhvog's eyes narrowed. The Elves, however, remained impassive.
"Now listen here, King. We have fought just as hard as anyone in this war. We deserve to have our thoughts and suggestions heard in this discussion," Orik said.
"King Dwarf is right. We have earned these seats," Naz Garzvhog said simply, his deep voice reverberating off the inner walls. The Kull looked even more foreboding sitting in a chair that was much too small to contain his size. The wood groaned as the leader of the Urgals shifted his weight.
"That is all you have earned, the right to suggest. That's it. You cannot select our ruler for us," Orrin said, his face taut.
"Nor would we presume to," Lord Dathedr said calmly, his voice smooth as a stream. "We are merely here to aid in the selection process. This decision will affect all of Alagaesia, not just the people of the Empire. This person will be dealing with all races, and have the power to influence them. If the wrong person is selected, the results could be… ill-fated."
"Orrin," Nasuada said softly. "Just as Eragon isn't automatically King because he killed Galbatorix, being a King doesn't automatically make you the successor either."
"Well it sure as hell gives me the best case!"
"Perhaps," Dathedr said. "Perhaps not. Before we judge more closely let us consider any other candidates," Dathedr inclined his head towards Nasuada. Eragon smiled to himself. The elf was smooth.
"I, too, will nominate myself as a candidate to replace Galbatorix as the next Queen of the Empire," Nasuada said with all the confidence a Queen should have.
"Of course you would," Orrin scoffed.
"You find my nomination disagreeable?"
"I find your nomination predictable and frustrating. You led the Varden in the war, but I have led an entire country for years. What makes you think you can do a better job than me?" Orrin asked, his wine spilling from his goblet as he sat forward.
"I didn't just lead the Varden, I made them what they are today. I rallied them, prepared them for war. I got them out of the shadow of the mountain and onto the field of battle. I showed them that they could stand up to a King."
"But you don't know how to rule a country."
"I believe," Lord Dathedr cut in, "that in past months, Nasuada has done more than most royalty do in their entire lives. She did so with all the confidence and grace one would expect from a Queen."
"He's right," Ayra said looking up. Eragon's breath caught in his throat at the sound of her voice. She was looking at Nasuada with respect and admiration. The two were old allies and friends. Nasuada smiled at her. "She would make a wonderful Queen."
"Oh enough," Orrin said rolling his eyes. "Keep your useless flattery to yourself, Elf." He spat the word 'Elf' like it was sour.
"DO NOT talk to her like that," Eragon snapped, leaning forward in his chair. His blood began racing through his body. He gripped the edges of his armrest to keep his hands from shaking. He could feel the air around him getting hotter, charged with energy. If he did not gain control of himself, he feared he would destroy the whole tent. But Orrin's statement got to him. He would not allow someone to talk down to the elf that was so important to him, so central to his life.
"Eragon!" It was Arya's voice. The third time she acknowledged him since he came into the room. But he didn't face her. His eyes were trained on Orrin, waiting for the King's reaction. He had spilled wine on his shirt after jumping from Eragon's outburst. His eyes were wide, the whites showing his fear. It pleased Eragon, even if he would never admit it.
"A tiny suggestion, King Orrin," Orik cut in chuckling. "My foster brother, Eragon, has had an exceptionally long day. It would be wise not to upset him." Orik's statement helped to calm him down. However, his gaze didn't falter from Orrin.
"I'm… I'm sorry," Orrin stammered at Eragon.
"Not to me," Eragon whispered.
"Arya, I am sorry for my comment." He bowed his head somewhat mockingly for Eragon's taste, but it was an apology nonetheless. Arya's face was the picture of calm as she nodded to Orrin's apology. If Eragon's reaction had troubled her, she didn't show it now.
He leaned back in his chair, slowing his breathing down, his hand once again reaching for that familiar spot under Saphira's chin.
An overreaction? Saphira asked.
Well he won't do that again, he replied.
That is for sure. I could smell the sweat from his brow. Eragon sensed his partner of mind's approval at making Orrin squirm.
"So it seems we have two candidates for the succession to the throne, King Orrin and Lady Nasuada," Lord Dathedr stated, bringing the focus back to the task at hand as if nothing had happened. He gestured to each of them in turn. "The two of you must come to an agreement for us to move forward."
Nasuada looked at Orrin. "Orrin, you said it yourself. You are already King. Why do you want the throne?"
"Why?" Orrin seemed insulted. "My people have fought and died along side the Varden. We housed, fed, and protected the Varden. Without Surda, there would be no Varden. You all were a merry band of misfits, and with my help you became an army. We took on all the risk. We would have faced the wrath of Galbatorix should you have failed, while you all would have just disappeared in the wind. We deserve to be rewarded for this victory, because we produced this victory."
Nasuada looked at him for a moment, allowing a long pause to pass. "You're right," she said plainly.
"I… I am?"
Is she giving into this little man? Saphira asked.
Let us see where she is taking this, Eragon answered.
"The Varden would not be what they are today without the assistance of Surda."
"I am glad you agree," Orrin said smugly. "So you will take back your claim, and let us finish the details."
"No."
"No?"
"No. The Varden owe you a great debt. And for all the Varden, I want to thank you for everything you have done. However, you did not produce the victory today. It was the effort of everyone. You cannot claim sole ownership of it because it belongs to everyone. And you did not turn the Varden into the army they are, I did. Giving a group of people weapons does not make them battle ready. You need a leader who is battle ready. You need a focal point to rally behind. I was that focal point. The Varden became an army under my leadership, and would have fought with sticks and mud if they needed to. You helped supply us, but without me, there would be no army.
I worked with the Dwarves to ensure their aid in our struggle. I dealt with the Elves to make sure they would be at our sides. I negotiated with the Werecats to gain their assistance. And I earned the respect of the Urgals so they would be willing to fight with us. I know the politics of the throne and I know the responsibilities of ruling. You want to know why I will not take back my claim? It is because I believe I am the right person for this position."
"Then we have a problem. I will not take back my claim either." Orrin's brows were furrowed. "Nasuada, think carefully how you respond next. If you do not take back your claim, I will have no choice but to use force to assert mine. Do not allow your selfishness to cloud your judgment and cause anymore needless bloodshed."
Eragon couldn't believe what he was hearing. His grip began to tighten again, but a glance at Nasuada steadied his nerves. She was smiling. Smiling.
"You would turn on your allies to get the throne?" Orik asked scowling.
Orrin turned sharply to him. "If the Varden oppose me, then they are not my allies. Allies stand with you. They would be my enemies. And if you are asking if I have a problem defeating my enemies, I don't." Orik's scowl deepened.
"Orrin, I want you to think very carefully at how you respond to what I am about to say." Nasuada was relaxed, even comfortable. Eragon watched as she looked at Arya, and Arya gave her a nod. She looked at the others in the room and then looked at Eragon and smiled. He couldn't help but smile back. What was she planning? "We have been allies through very, very tough times. I would not like to see that relationship come to an end. The Varden have just defeated the armies of the Empire. Not an easy task. And it was not just us, but the Dwarves, -" She gestured at Orik who nodded, his teeth showing through his thick mustache. "The Elves, -" She motioned to Lord Dathedr and Arya, both of whom were allowing small smiles. "The Urgals, -" She nodded to Naz Garzhvog, who nodded in return. "And the Werecats." She looked at Grimmr who lifted his head, looked at her, and then put his head back down. "Not to mention a certain dragon and her Rider, who have even lead the Varden in my stead. All of them fought alongside the Varden in this war, and in my eyes they are the Varden. They came to our aid when we needed them, just as we would not hesitate to come to theirs. Those are bonds that are not easily broken. So when I tell you that the Varden will support me in my claim to the throne, I want you to know exactly what I mean."
Orrin shifted in his seat as if he couldn't get comfortable. Eragon was proud of Nasuada. She wasn't afraid to flex her muscles if she needed to. War had made her into the kind of person you want to see in a position of power.
"And incase you have not thought of it, let me explain another angle to this scenario you are proposing," she continued. "The soldiers of Surda have fought alongside the warriors of the Varden just as long as anyone. There were connections of the strongest kind made out on those battlegrounds. Do you really think you can so easily severe those links and have brother turn against brother, ally against ally? Or would those that have fought and bled for each other instead rebel against you? You may find your army smaller than you last remember if you try and turn to violence."
"This is outrageous!" Orrin exclaimed, his eyes going wild. "You all would deny me the throne? Just because she led an army? I am a King!" Orrin pointed his goblet accusingly at those around the fire, the wine slopping over the rim. "You all back her claim?" he asked the room.
"The Dwarves will stand by the Varden, and Lady Nasuada," said Orik.
"As will the Elves," Lord Dathedr said.
"The Urgals are with Lady Nightstalker," Naz Garzhvog said.
"We Werecats care little for who takes the throne, so long as our spot at the side of it is honored. Since that agreement was struck with Nasuada, we will lend our support to her."
Orrin scoffed and looked at Eragon, his sneer making Eragon smile.
"Saphira and I stand by Nasuada," Eragon said to the King, making sure Orrin broke the eye contact first.
"Is your claim really worth the spilling of more Surda blood?" Nasuada asked Orrin. The King slumped into his chair, downing the last of his wine from his goblet.
"You would send us home with nothing, after everything we have done for you, after everything we have sacrificed?" He sounded more defeated than hurt. Eragon almost pitied the man. Almost.
"No. I said I would not take back my claim. I also said the Varden owe you a great debt. You will be rewarded handsomely for your integral part in this endeavor. But before I explain, do you take back your claim to the throne?"
"I want to hear what you offer first."
Defiant to the end, Eragon remarked.
He has submitted. He is just trying to save some of his ego, Saphira said.
Nasuada took a deep breath. "Fine. For your support in this war, I would reward you and the people of Surda with land. I will give you the port cities of Aroughs and Feinster, and I will give you the city of Melian and the city of Furnost. Surda will nearly double in size overnight and you will control all of lake Tudosten."
Orrin huffed. "Leona is the more valuable lake," he said.
"But you already have access to Leona through the Jiet river, which you would completely control the bottom half of." Orrin scratched his chin.
"And if I agree to take back my claim, what would be required of me?"
"Sign an agreement swearing fealty to me as the new Queen of the Empire. You would have to aid us with troops and supplies should we ever be in need, just as we will do the same for you."
Orrin looked up at the roof of the tent and sighed. "Fine. I agree to take back my claim as King provided you honor the terms of the agreement…Your Majesty."
A shiver went down Eragon's spine. Nasuada was Queen. She was actually Queen of the Empire. He felt the room become lighter as smiles broadened across the room.
"Thank you, Orrin," Nasuada said sincerely.
"Long live the Queen!" Orik shouted, raising his warhammer.
"Long live the Queen!" they all echoed. Nasuada stood, looking at them all in turn.
"Thank you all," she said smiling. "And a special thanks to you, Orrin. I am certain this will not be as bad as you think."
"Mhm. Like I even had a choice," he said staring at the fire.
"You did have a choice, and you made the right one."
"I guess time will tell."
"Nasuada will take to the throne as successor to Galbatorix," Lord Dathedr said. "The crowning ceremony should be held as soon as possible to make it official. Most of the Elves will be preparing to leave back to Du Weldenvarden to say goodbye to our dead and select our next leader. We can stay behind long enough to attend the ceremony but it should be done soon if possible."
"I will hold an assembly tomorrow to announce the news to the people, and then work to have the crowning ceremony the day after. Is that agreeable?" she asked Dathedr.
"Agreeable indeed, Your Majesty," Lord Dathedr replied, bowing his head slightly.
"Is this also agreeable for the Dwarves, Werecats, and Urgals?" she asked each of their representatives in turn.
"The Dwarves will stay until the crowning ceremony, and what I can assume will be the mighty feast afterwards," Orik said grinning from ear to ear.
"The Werecats do not care for your ceremonies. As long as you honor you deal that one of our kind will always have a place beside the throne, we will acknowledge you as the leader of the pack," Grimmr said as he sat up and then stalked out of the tent.
"The Urgals will also recognize your rule, Lady Nightstalker," Naz Garzhvog said. "However, the majority of them will be heading back now that the fighting is over. We celebrate victories with blood and sport, instead of food and wine. Do not take offense to our absence, it is just our way."
"I understand. Thank you for everything. If you would like anything before your departure, please let me know. I will feed your people, and give them any supplies they need for the return home," Nasuada said to him.
"Thank you, Lady Nightstalker," he said as he brought his fist to his chest. "There is one matter I believe needs to be brought to your attention, unfortunately."
"Oh?" Nasuada asked as she sat back down.
"The Urgals that have fought with you in this war, they will respect you and your people till the day they return to the Earth. But their offspring, and their offspring's offspring may not."
"Are you saying they may attack us?"
"It is a possibility. Not out of hate, but for gaining respect among themselves. We rank ourselves by our strength, and to determine who the strongest are among us, we need to test ourselves. If fighting among ourselves is not enough, the Urgal youths will seek new opponents to match themselves up against. You must be aware that they may come looking for a fight in order to prove themselves to their own people. Again, I say that it is not an offense, but simply they way we are. We will keep them from this path for now, but your children may have to face our children one day."
"Is there nothing we can do about it? A more peaceful solution?" Nasuada asked the Kull.
"A peaceful solution to the Urgals need for violence to earn their place among our people? Not likely," he said simply.
"What about our army?"
"You wish the youths to fight your army?"
"No, I wish them to be in my army." Naz Garzhvog raised his heavy brow, so Nasuada continued. "Let those that need to prove their strength join my army. The Varden will be disbanded and those that wish to will be given the chance to join the Empire's army. If any of your youth want to see violence that would be a great place for them. We will always need brave soldiers to defend our home and it might help continue the relationship of peace between our people."
Naz Garzhvog cracked his large knuckles. "I think that would be a very wise course of action," he said. Nasuada allowed a smile as she breathed out a sigh of relief. "Now, I must be leaving. Queen Nightstalker."
"Good bye for now Naz Garzhvog. I am sure we will see each other again," Eragon told the Kull.
"I am sure we will." With that Naz Garzhvog exited the tent and disappeared into the night.
"You handled your first problem as ruler very well, Queen Nasuada," Lord Dathedr said. "Get comfortable. It is only the beginning."
"Thank you. And I think I would like you all to hear my next plan as Queen." Everyone looked up. "I would like to change the name of the capital back to Ilirea, as a sign that we are going to restore it to its former glory."
"That is a great idea," Eragon told her. Bringing back the old name would be one more step in the long path to recovery.
"The name the Elves had given it… You honor us, Nasuada," Arya said to her. She didn't use formalities and by Nasuada's smile, he figured she wanted it that way.
"I honor all of us."
Orik yawned in his chair and it infected Eragon. Nasuada looked at him and said, "I think that is enough deliberations for one day. Let's all get some rest. We can make the announcement tomorrow." Eragon nodded his approval through yet another yawn. He shouldn't be so impolite, but at this point he didn't care. "Orrin, thank you for allowing us to have our meeting here. It was most kind."
"Yea, yea. Enough of your thanks," he mumbled as he waved them off. The group rose from their chairs and began filing out of the tent. Eragon patted Saphira, telling her to meet him outside. He wanted to go out with the others to say his good byes. He also wanted to get a word in with a certain elf, but he shielded that from his thoughts.
"Just think, two days and we will be feasting like gods, eh?" Orik said as he grasped Eragon's forearm once they were outside. The moon was high in the sky, casting an ethereal glow on everything around him. "Today deserves a celebration that lasts for ages. But I think some rest needs to come first." He choked down another yawn. "Some sleep, and then we drink!" Eragon couldn't help but smile.
"Aye. Some sleep, and then we drink," Eragon said lazily. Orik laughed and waved good-bye as his guards joined his side and he made his way back to his quarters.
"Eragon, you will be at the announcement tomorrow right?" Nasuada asked him as she came up to his side.
"Yes, of course."
"Good. I will need your support with the announcement."
"I think after what you did back in there, you can handle any crowd," Eragon said gesturing back inside the tent.
"Maybe. But I will still need you. Get some rest, Kingkiller. You have bags under your eyes." With a wink, Nasuada turned and strolled off, her guards immediately coming to her sides.
I am off to the side of the little man's house, Saphira said in his mind. Come when you have finished your 'talk.' Eragon should have known he couldn't keep anything from her. Their connection to each other was too strong to hide simple things.
Lord Dathedr strolled up to him. "Until tomorrow, Eragon Kingkiller," the Elf said with a bow. Eragon bowed in return. When the Elf turned to walk away, Eragon noticed Arya was already making her way back to the Elf camp.
"Arya," Eragon called out to her. "May I have a word?" She stopped walking, and said something quick to Lord Dathedr as he past her.
"Yes, Eragon. What is it?" she said turning to him. She looked busy; almost annoyed that Eragon had stopped her. What was going on with her? He took a deep breath when he caught up to her, forgetting how quickly she could cover ground.
"I- I wanted to apologize to you." She arched an eyebrow to him. "I am sorry I snapped at King Orrin earlier."
"I do not need you fighting my battles for me. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she said, turning her back to him.
"I know that. Of course I know that. I didn't snap because I thought you needed protection." She looked back over her shoulder at him. "I snapped because I can't stand to see those that I care about threatened." Eragon shifted his weight. "I have had too many taken from me. I apologize if I upset you but I will never stop protecting those that I still have." Arya looked at him curiously, her eyes betraying more than her expression did. She seemed to relax for a moment, her gaze softening. Her hips began to turn back towards Eragon, but then they held firm. The glimmer in her eyes faded and her expression returned to her familiar impassive calm.
"I understand." She fully turned away from him and whispered under her breath, "Thank you." Eragon wanted to talk more but she was already striding away from him.
Eragon made his way back to Saphira who trained a large sapphire eye on him.
The talk did not go the way you wanted? she asked.
Eragon sighed. "Notquite."Saphira lowered herself to allow him to climb in the saddle.
Forget about it for now. We have endured a lot. Now it is time to rest. With that, Saphira took to the sky, leaving all his worries on the ground.
The night was still. Eragon lost himself with the cool air kissing his sides, and the moon giving the land a supernatural glow. He let all the day's events, all his troubles and stresses fall off him in the night air. It was just Saphira and him, gods of the air. He closed his eyes, allowing his mind to focus on the sensation of Saphira's beating wings. The rhythmic movements helped to slow his mind, and to slow his body. He felt good. He was completely in the moment, not thinking of the past or the future. His only awareness was his partner's scaly muscles, stretching and flexing as they propelled them through the air.
Eragon felt a change in Saphira's flight path and opened his eyes to see them angle toward the tents that contained their quarters.
I'd like to get away from everyone for tonight, Eragon told her in his mind. He sent her an image of an opening on the crest of hill ahead of them that overlooked the city. The shift in her wings confirmed her agreement. Eragon had been around people non-stop for too long. He needed a break, some solitude from the role of Dragon Rider, Kingkiller, soldier, and leader.
Saphira touched down softly, barely rustling the leaves on the trees surround them. Eragon slid off her and then took down the saddle. Saphira yawned, a ferocious sight of teeth to most, but to Eragon, a reflection of his own state of being. He patted her on the cheek as she curled up in front of him. He made himself comfortable up against her side and she brought her wing over part of him. The air warmed up instantly under her protection and Eragon could feel the pull of his waking dreams, his body desperately ready for a reprieve. He had just enough energy to look up at the starry abyss above him before he slipped into a deep sleep.