CHAPTER SEVEN: Whatever's Meant To Be

A/N: Nolfavrell and Brynja do not belong to me (I just named Brynja – she is the teenage girl with the forearms of a swordsman whose fortune Angela reads in Brisingr), only Tynan is mine. Oh, and Ashen and Tristan.

"Here me when I say, when I say, I believe

Nothing's gonna change, nothing's gonna change destiny

Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly."

- Keep Holding On, Avril Lavigne

Tristan gazed up at the purple dragon with shock and amazement in his eyes. He was no expert, but this dragon was far bigger than both Saphira and Thorn. That meant it had to be a lot older. The dragon looked down upon Tristan with a curious gleam in its dark eyes. Examining the dragon more closely, Tristan could see that it was more slender at the neck and the legs. He decided it was a female dragon. A female…so Saphira wasn't the last after all.

Delia smiled grimly. "This is Aziza."

Welcome to Ellesmera, Tristan Reynaldsson. We have been waiting for you for a very long time.

Tristan whipped around to look at Delia. The elf noted the accusing look in his eyes and could hardly blame him. His mouth was pressed into a firm line.

"You told us…you said that your dragon was dead!"

Delia shrugged. "It was easier at the time. You were the only one I wished to know the whole truth. As a Rider, it is your right. Not even Arya knows and you must swear that you will not tell anyone."

She told him the words in the ancient language, and Tristan sullenly repeated them. He didn't like it that Delia had lied to him, but he could understand why she was only telling him the truth now.

"So what is the truth then?" demanded Tristan, "Are you going to tell me?"

A smile curved Delia's lips, almost mocking.

"Sit down. I'm prepared to tell you everything."

Tristan sat down with his back pressed against the thick trunk of a tree. Fafnir scuttled over to his Rider and rested one of his scaled legs on Tristan's knee.

Do you think we can forgive her, Fafnir?

Let's just listen to what she has to say first.

Delia sighed and now Tristan could definitely see the pain in her violet eyes, eyes so like her dragon's. Clearly, her tale was not an easy one.

"Of course, you know that I'm far too young to have been a participant after the Fall. When Galbatorix…when he took the three eggs – red, blue and green – my people only located one: the purple egg."

She gave Aziza a knowing smile and the dragon growled affectionately. Clearly, the two had a very strong bond.

"This all happened before I was born. By the time I was twenty years old – which is little more than a child, by our standards – I was allowed to touch the egg. It hatched for me only days later…and Aziza was my dragon. Islanzadi knew it was best to keep us a secret, had us trained by Oromis and Glaedr…and then Oromis died in the Siege of Gil'ead just recently. I knew that when the Green Rider came, it would be my duty to train them…you."

Tristan could begin to comprehend. Delia was a secret weapon, like Tristan was supposed to have been. He could understand why she hadn't showed herself until now, why she'd pretended her dragon was dead.

"You must understand," Delia sounded almost frantic now, a strange thing for an elf, "I was so frustrated. I wanted to show myself. Even before the Rider War, I wanted to fight Galbatorix…but Oromis made me swear that I wouldn't, not until I was ready."

Tristan picked out strands of grass with his fingers, concentrating on what Delia was saying. He was beginning to feel hope rise within him. They had three Riders and their dragons…against Galbatorix and Murtagh. Maybe, just maybe, they would stand a chance.

PARAGRAPH

Murtagh had given Ashen time alone. Five days, to be precise. He had been patient and allowed her to burn out her childish rage. She had thrown things. She had pounded on the door. At one stage, he'd even heard her muffled sobs…but he'd hardened his heart against them. He knew the consequences if he let Ashen go.

He might have given her even longer than five days in solitude, if it hadn't been for the escape attempt. He was asleep in his bed when Thorn's voice sounded in his head.

Murtagh! Ashen has managed to get out!

Damn that girl, Murtagh thought, marching out into the corridor, his feet slapping angrily on the stone tiles as he headed down towards Ashen's room. How had the girl managed to get out? He cursed himself for not putting magic around the room. He had to admit that it was his own mistakes that had landed him in this situation.

In the dim torchlight, he saw a mane of blonde hair disappear around the corner, and then heard a groan of disappointment. Clearly, the twisted hallways of Uru'baen were difficult for Ashen to navigate. He hurried around the corner and she whirled around, panic flashing in her eyes as she saw him. For a moment they both just stood there, Ashen looking like a rabbit caught by a wolf. She turned on her heel and ran.

Ashen knew she didn't stand a chance. Murtagh was much faster than her. She'd only managed to run a few feet before a strong arm wrapped around her waist and she was pulled back into Murtagh's muscular chest. She opened her mouth to scream, but he instantly guessed her intentions and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Don't scream." He warned her, his breath hot on her neck. "Ashen, I am not a patient man. If you continue to test me, you'll be sorry. Trust me, if you think you would have made it out of Uru'baen alive…think again."

Ashen struggled against him, but his arm around her waist only tightened and his grip around her mouth was so tight that she thought her face might break.

"I'm going to let you go now," Murtagh told her, "If you scream, it will only bode ill for you. Do you understand?"

Her blonde hair brushed against him as she nodded and Murtagh relinquished his grasp on her, only to quickly take her by the arm and pull her back towards her room. Ashen was looking furious with herself for having been caught.

"You could let me go," whispered Ashen, trying in vain to pull her arm from Murtagh's grasp, "No one would know…they couldn't have known you were awake…"

Murtagh didn't answer as he continued to march her back down the corridor. Galbatorix would know. He always knew. Besides, it would only be worse for Ashen if she tried to escape. If the guards saw her, they would kill her on sight rather than let her escape. He opened the door to her room and pushed her inside.

"I wouldn't advise trying to escape again," he said in a low voice, "I know from experience. It's only worse if you run."

He saw the defeat on Ashen's face as he closed and locked her door. Then, he started muttering in the ancient language. Ashen wouldn't be escaping again.

PARAGRAPH

The reports of a Shade were growing more frequent. Nasuada could see that people were being to become afraid. There had only been two Shades recently – Varaug and Durza. Neither had been easy to defeat and with Eragon, the notorious Shadeslayer, away…well, they were panicking.

He was allegedly known as Shade Mordecai, but they couldn't know if that was true, especially when so few witnesses survived encounters with a Shade. Nasuada knew how dangerous they could be, how unpredictable.

During this time of uncertainty and fear, Nasuada had just about given up hope. They had no Riders with them and Surda was rife with trepidation because of the talk of this Shade. However, she was surprised when a group of hard-faced teenagers entered her tent, escorted by one of the Kull.

"They were adamant that they saw you, Lady Nightstalker."

Nasuada glanced over the three of them. She recognised one of them – the boy Nolfavrell, from Carvahall – but the girl with strong forearms and the tall boy, she didn't know. She sat up straighter, seeing the determination glittering in their eyes.

"Lady Nasuada." Nolfavrell inclined his head respectfully. "We wish to hunt down the Shade before he reaches the Varden."

Nasuada looked over them all with shock. Were these teenagers insane? Killing a Shade was a very difficult task. She appraised them carefully. Nolfavrell appeared to be around thirteen or fourteen, the girl and the other boy a little older. They must all have been younger than her.

"Do you think this wise?" she asked in little more than a whisper, "Eragon was nearly killed by a Shade in the battle under Farthen Dur. I admire your determination, but do you really think you stand a chance?"

Nolfavrell made to speak, but the older boy took a step forward. Looking at him, Nasuada guessed him to be fifteen or sixteen. He had a baby-like face, blond hair and blue eyes. He didn't look like he'd survive a minute against a Shade.

"With all due respect, Lady Nasuada, we wish you to give us a chance." He spoke smoothly. "My name is Tynan and I'm a magician. You may be aware that Nolfavrell here has been trained in the use of a sword and is a fine fighter, and Brynja has been trained in archery and fencing. We may be young, Lady, but we are all capable. After all, is not Eragon Shadeslayer my own age?"

Nasuada didn't know what to say. These three were definitely persistent and she had to admit that they had courage. The hard looks on their faces made them seem older than they really were. She had to remind herself that, especially in Nolfavrell's case, they were little more than children.

"It is not for me to give you permission to take up this quest to hunt down a Shade," Nasuada sighed heavily, brushing back a strand of her dark hair, "If that is what you intend to do, you may leave Surda to do so. However, the blame rests not on my head if you fail. I neither give nor withhold my permission."

The three exchanged triumphant glances and Nasuada felt the heavy burden of her responsibility weighing down on her shoulders. Despite what she'd said, the three teenagers clearly saw themselves as having Nasuada's blessing to hunt down Mordecai. If that was what they desired, she would not stop them. They would all most likely be killed.

"What makes you want to undertake this mission so readily?" she asked of them.

Nolfavrell's eyes hardened. "For my people, Lady. The people of Carvahall have endured much and they don't need any more strife. We are the future of Alagaesia. Just as Eragon has, we can prove that just because we are young, it does not mean that we do not matter. You also are proof of that, Lady."

Nasuada couldn't help but be slightly flattered. "Thank you, but I still believe you are on a suicide mission."

Tynan shrugged. "Then it is ours to undertake. May your sword stay sharp, Lady Nasuada."

"No, Tynan. May yours."

PARAGRAPH

Ashen was tired. She had tried everything – kicking, screaming, crying, fighting, escaping…none of it worked. She had been delivered food three times a day by a maid around her age whose name she did not know. The maid slipped in and out so quickly that Ashen hadn't time to escape. Sometimes she'd eat what she was given. Other times she would sulk and leave the tray where it was.

The night after she'd tried to escape from her room, Murtagh paid her a visit. She looked up as he crossed over to her, a slight smirk on his face as he observed her.

"I hear you haven't been eating."

Ashen shrugged and turned away from him. She didn't need to speak to him. Murtagh, however, wasn't pleased at being ignored. He frowned and grabbed Ashen by the arm, tugging her to her feet. When she still looked at the ground, he gripped her by the chin and forced her to look at him.

"Am I that despicable?" he seethed, "Why can't you even look at me?"

Ashen swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Because I pity you," she whispered.

Murtagh blinked. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been that. Hate, anger…probably. Not sympathy or pity. Somehow that only made him irritated. Ashen's rage he could take. Her pity was something he didn't know what to do with. His eyes flashed and he frowned as he pushed her away from him.

"You don't need to pity me," he told her harshly, "I do that well enough myself."

Murtagh turned away from her and Ashen wondered if he was going to leave, before he whipped back around to face her. The darkness still lingered in his eyes, but it was receding. Clearly, Murtagh was not the kind who appreciated the pity of others.

"If you're going to be staying in Uru'baen, you might as well see a little of it. You need to know that this isn't your lovely Surda. It's not a place you will like…but it's about time you faced reality: you're not with the Varden anymore."

Ashen's heart thumped in her chest. Murtagh would let her out of her room? So far, she didn't seem like much a prisoner. She tilted her head to the side.

"You'd let me out?"

Murtagh clenched his jaw. "I would have to be watching you, of course. Besides, you know what will happen if you decide to try and escape…"

Ashen had already condemned herself to Uru'baen. She had tried escaping and was fortunate to have been caught by Murtagh. If it had been anyone else…she shuddered to think what might have happened. She allowed herself a small smile, but Murtagh's expression remained impassive. Ashen wondered if he ever really smiled.

"Aye. I understand."

Murtagh nodded approvingly. "Good. In that case…" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, closer than Ashen was comfortable with. He smiled bleakly at the astonishment that flashed in her eyes. "Let me show you around the place you will be staying for the next few months. You aren't going to like it."