Blödhthringa leaned on the railing of the balcony, as the morning sun rose on the horizon. She had awoke just before day break, and enjoyed some fresh air, as cold as it was, until the snow reflected the sun light that pained her. She turned, shaking the chill from her, and went inside. Blödhthringa chose a crimson dress with black roses lining it's left side eloquently, it was subtle but she liked it. It was one of her favorite dresses and wore it whenever she could. Her deep long deep red hair softly curled on the sides as it tumbled down her shoulders and back. She stared at herself in her body mirror, admiring herself. Her room was seven feet tall and wide enough to encompass her belongings. Her large bed pressed against the wall, a fairth of Ellesméra that her father had made the day they had left for Ilirea hung above it. A nightstand sat on the right side of the bed, a flameless candle that she controlled with magic sat upon it.
The door to her balcony, as well as a portion of the walls around it were glass, along with a large window on the opposite side of her bed. A long dresser rested a few feet away from the right side of her bed, stopping with an even space between it and the balcony wall. A large fairth of Eragon and Saphira hung above it, above all, that was her most valuable fairth, one that she cherished. She had won it through a game of riddles from a passing merchant, who was very displeased and tries to win it back each time he visits the city. Across from the dresser, underneath the large window, sits a wooden desk. Flanked by two large bookshelves full to the brim of books. On the desk itself sat scatter scrolls and papers, a stack of four books and one open book. Far to the left of the desk was the door to her large closet, then opposite of that sat the door to her study where all her personal research and reading and writing takes place. She spends most of her time in her study, but when she works on her studies, she works on the small desk in her room. The smooth and soft wood flooring was warm to her bare feet. She enjoyed the feeling, for it was odd, it was almost as if the building itself had a heartbeat.
Blödhthringa opened the smooth wooden door of her room and walked down the spiraling staircase to the first floor. Here she made her way to the kitchen, and ordered one of the servants to fix her breakfast. The man bowed to her silently and moved on his way to meet her demand. Once she was fed, she walked to the lobby, feeling him with her wards and her mind, she knew her tutor, Desmond, approached. The gate was enchanted to open for him and as he walked towards the home, as he rose his fist to knock, she opened the door. "You know, I never know how you know when I'm coming." He said simply, but she just flashed him an innocent smile and welcomed him in. He nodded in thanks and walked in, kicking off his snow covered boots, and stretching. "Winter is in full swing, eh?" He said as he took of his heavy coat, revealing a wine red sweater and white undershirt. His neatly trimmed gray beard had hints of frost to it. "Indeed." She said plainly. "Are you hungry?" She asked and he paused, before answering. "Just a warm coffee to warm me up." She nodded. Out of everyone she knows, he was the only other one who enjoyed coffee as she does. Her father prefers tea and tells her that Blödhthringa's taste in coffee is the same as her mothers.
She called for a servant, who came running, told him of Desmond's order, bowed to her, before hurrying off. They walked to the dining room and on the low set table, they got started. "Ah," He said, long and drawn out, as he sat down, "Let us resume." He said and she nodded. "We stopped at the battle of the Burning Plains." She said. "Ah yes," He said as he nodded, his brows furrowed as he collected his thoughts. "From what I've read and heard, the battle was one of the bloodiest the land had ever seen, with enough dead to keep gore crows fed for a fortnight..." He paused as a servant brought them two cups of coffee on a platter with a fancy jar of sugar and two metal spoons. She nodded to him as he bowed and left. She tossed a few cubes into her coffee and began to stir, however Desmond took a swig of his coffee black. Blödhthringa grimaced, for she did not know how he could like something so bitter.
He resumed. "The scrolls say the Empire had outnumbered the Varden by 15 to 1, initially, before the intervention of the Dwarves. They tell of a great poisoning during the morning of the fight, however," He said as he set down a scroll and opened a new one, before placing the one down too and grabbing another, "no records exist of the one responsible for the poisoning. Only faint rumors of a witch of some sort." Blödhthringa kept her bright blue eyes fixed on him. "Later in the day, the Varden and the Empire clashed. The Varden pushed against what, to them, seemed like an endless number of soldiers..." He continued, telling of many soldier's accounts of the battle, but what interested her the most, was when he spoke of Eragon and Saphira. The two equaled a few hundred soldiers alone, and is said that the two of them were the corner stone, without them, the Varden would have fallen to the Black Empire. He then told of the ship, Dragon Wing, appearing on the Jiet river, and that Eragon's cousin, Roran, had arrived and with the entire village of Carvahall.
Stronghammer. She said to herself as she listened, remembering the name he is remembered by. Roran was almost as renown as his cousin, however, the two are more popularly remembered as brothers. She listened with a solemn expression as he told of King Hrothgar's death, and Eragon's resulting loss against Murtagh and Thorn. She sipped the remainder of her coffee and he finished, concluding the battle of the Burning Plains. "I could sit here all day and still be intrigued by Eragon's tales." Desmond dipped his head in a agreement. "Aye." He had her practice a few lines of poetry and asked a few questions about the Burning Plains, which she had to consult her notes to answer. Before long, the sun had begun to set, crimson orange light poured through the windows. She opened her mouth to answer a question when she stopped, feeling her father with her wards. She quickly answered Desmond's question before standing up and walking over to the door and opening it for her father. "Thank you, Blödhthringa." He said and the two shared a brief hug. "Welcome home, father. How fared work?" Her father shrugged, "Same as usual, but we did manage to placate some Nobleman who were upset that their debts had not been paid before Nasuada's death." Blödhthringa rose an eyebrow. "How did you managed to placate them?" Her father smiled and winked, "we have our ways." With that, her father greeted Desmond, who shook his hand.
Blödhthringa helped her father prepare dinner, and the three ate as her father inquired about her studies. Soon, after dinner, as always, her father and Desmond shared a mug of mead together, Desmond was quick to get drunk, but also quick to sober. Her father drinks more mead than Desmond, but never appears to be affected by it. The two talked about more adult things, about work and numbers, most of which Blödhthringa did pay any attention, but munched on an apple as she listened quietly. Soon, the two of them bid Desmond farewell, who had an arm raised in farewell as he walked away, bearing the cold.
Blödhthringa sat opposite of her father, who groaned as he sat down on the couch, resting his sore limbs. "Finally, peace and quiet." Her father and her quite enjoyed Desmond's company, but also enjoyed solitude. That is something the two of them had in common. "You are really interested in dragons, aren't you?" Her father called from the couch, his head laid back and his eyes closed. "Aye. But what makes you ask a question you already know the answer?" A sly smile tugged at her father's lips. "Because," he opened his eyes and lowered his head, "I talked with Nilfiem about granting you a chance to try the three eggs he has in his care before they are shipped off to the Dwarves." Blödhthringa's eyes widened and stood, "You didn't!" Her father grinned, "I did." She ran over, fast and lithe as a cat, and hugged her father. As she backed off, he patted the top of her head. "Now now, don't get too excited. Remember, they might not hatch, and if so, don't get discouraged. There will be more chances to come. He is expecting us early morning tomorrow..." He sighed, "You aren't even listening, are you?" Blödhthringa had already lost herself in her thoughts, she half heard him, but began thinking of things like, a name for her dragon and what kind of adventures the two would share.
"Go on, then!" He shouted with merriment. "Get to bed, we awake at the crack of dawn." She smiled and kissed her father on the cheek and ran upstairs, her mind reeling in a thousand different possibilities.