A/N: Should have said this sooner, but I own neither Inheritance Cycle or Elder scrolls. If I did, this story would already be in production for a Youtube animated series or a video game. And I would have had the Eragon movie redone and all the old copies tracked down and burned.
Ch 4
In spite of the many differences that could be seen between the land of Alagaesia and the world of Nirn, there were still parallels and similarities that one could find. The existence of men, dragons and elves, the strange value placed upon gold, a mild fear of magic by the general population…
And of course, the chaos of war-camps.
It took a few minutes for Trissa and her guard of mounted warriors to reach the camp, where Garrow and the dragon rejoined them, leading the small procession into the massive collection of tents and people.
Soon, masses of humans (she still had yet to see a fellow Mer in this land) began to gather around the convoy, many of them soldiers, but also civilians, cheering at the sight of the dragon and its rider and occasionally shooting questioning looks at the cloaked figure being escorted by the riders.
Trissa instinctively dipped her head, allowing the shadows of her enchanted hood to envelop her face as she examined the crowd.
The group then stopped, and Felecia spurred her horse ahead. Trissa looked past her escort and saw the reason for their pause.
Standing before the dragon was a dozen individuals. Each of them were tall, with lithe limbs and elegant features, their eyes slanted and their ears pointed.
At least, she had found some elves.
Eleven of the elves looked normal, their body structure and skin tone like a mixture of Bosmer and Altmer. There was a mix of men and women, and they wore loose, comfortable clothing with minimal armor, and carried a mixture of swords, daggers, and bows. However, their body language and expressions gave her the feeling that they looked down on all of the humans surrounding them, and would much rather not be around such pitiful creatures.
They reminded her of Thalmor. And she hated the Thalmor, even after all this time.
However, the last elf confused her greatly. His body was shaped like the other elves, but was covered in a thin layer of shiny blue-grey fur, and she could see that his eyes were golden with a slit pupil, like those of an Eagle. When he spoke (in a language she couldn't recognize), making a strange hand movement at the boy on the dragon in synchronization with the other elves, she saw that he also had fangs, like those of a wolf.
Maybe a worshiper of Hircine? She thought. Cursed/blessed to live in the midst of a flesh-change for all his life? If so, these people are far more forgiving of Daedra worship than Nirn. That could be an issue.
The boy made similar hand movements from the back of the dragon, replying in the same unknown language, and the elves took up positions around the dragon, moving like guards around a king.
This just reinforced the boy's significance in Trissa's mind, as he must be rather important to warrant a guard of the only other full-elves she'd seen in this land.
They moved a little way further when the boy called for a stop, hoping off the dragon and approaching a group of people, foremost among them a young woman and a bearded man who held each other with obvious love. He talked at length with members of the group, then embraced the couple, and the three spoke quietly for a moment. Whatever the boy said caused looks of concern to flash across the couple's faces, but he apparently didn't notice as he then gave them each a kiss on the brow and leapt back to the saddle, and the little column moved on.
They pushed further into the camp, and eventually came to an open area surrounding a crimson tent that stood out from the rest like a drop of blood in a bucket of milk. Standing before the tent was a woman with the darkened color of a redguard, as well as a scholarly man in expensive robes with a crown atop his head; a king of some kind. The two were flanked by six soldiers in impressive armor: two humans with swords and shields, two very small men in heavy armor with battle axes (appropriately sized for their diminutive statures) and two creatures that looked like grey-skinned, tuskless orks with a set of rams' horns curling from their foreheads that grasped heavy mauls in meaty fists.
The woman, whom Trissa assumed to be the leader of this army, looked shockingly young. She wore a beautiful green dress that let her arms bare, displaying the slightly stained bandages that wrapped her forearms. Trissa felt a bulb of respect grow for this woman: not many leaders would be so willing to openly display a sign of potential weakness such as an injury, especially women. Elseif might have if it would be beneficial politically, and Ayela wore her scars with a hunter's pride, but even back in skyrim many women feared anything that might mar their appearance.
This woman bore hers like a badge of honor.
The boy nimbly clambered down from the dragon and went to stand beside the woman, as did Felicia (though she suspected now that these weren't their real names). The dark-skinned woman then raised her hands to silence the mass of soldiers and civilians who had gathered around.
In a loud but regal voice, the woman welcomed Rider Eragon (ah, so that's his real name. But...what does Rider mean?) back from his successful mission and played up the crowd's emotions until they were roaring and cheering in approval.
Trissa felt her vague approval of this woman grow. The warriors and civilians of the Varden seemed to like her, and she knew from experience that it was far harder to stop a rebellion when every enemy soldier felt they were fighting, if not for a friend, than for a righteous and just man. Or woman, in this case.
The unknown king spoke then, and his speech (though politely accepted) was not received with the same fervor as the woman's.
Then the dark-skinned woman turned and said something to Eragon, and the boy went pale.
Trissa realized that this boy's role in the war was likely the same as hers had been in both the Stormcloak rebellion and the Second Great War; a figurehead with a big, scary power behind them to bolster moral and frighten the enemy (as well as slaughter scores of them). The boy with the dragon, and her with the Voice.
And later, a couple dragons of her own.
Eragon visibly gulped as he looked out over the mass of humans, then nervously stammered out something about how he was glad to be back and how he and Saphira would…
Hold on...the dragon's name is Saphira? That's a very...feminine name…
Trissa examined the giant reptile again, noting its body structure, posture, even limited facial expressions, and after a few moments it was like her eyes cleared.
Yep, that dragon was a female.
Trissa started laughing (in a not entirely sane-sounding manner) at the ridiculousness of it; after all the times she'd complained about the distinct lack of fellow females in possession of a Dragon's soul, she ran across one in another dimension after Akatosh raised her from the dead.
Sheo must have had a hand in this, she thought.
The men and women around her looked nervously at the strange armed woman who seemed to be having a mental breakdown, a few edging away or placing hands on weapons.
Her laughter soon subsided to quiet chuckles and she noticed the elf standing in front of her, giving Trissa a very unimpressed look.
"If you are finished, you are wanted in by the Lady Nasuada." The elven woman said with a tone of condescension that would make even the snootiest Thalmor Justicar jealous.
Trissa ignored the bubble of irritation that appeared when the elf spoke, but simply gestured for her to lead the way.
Die turned gracefully and strode back through the crowd, his presence clearing a path through the throngs of humans as they seemed eager to get out of her way.
This unnerved Trissa to a degree, but she was glad that it got her to the tent quickly.
Ten of the mer had taken up positions around the tent, their strange aura keeping the slowly dispersing masses at a good distance from the dwelling of the Varden's commander. She saw that Saphira had moved off to one side of the tent and inserted her head through a flap that looked to be designed specifically for that purpose.
Good, at least these people know that Dragons are far more than mere beasts, like some of the idiots in Cyrodiil.
The native elf pushed through the front flaps of the tent and Trissa followed, only to be greeted by one of the most hated creatures both in this realm and the her own.
Nobles.
Eragon seemed to be swarmed by the pompous individuals, who fawned and preened in an attempt to gain some favor or hold on the young man, who she could tell was just as annoyed by it as she had been when she was presented to the Emperor's court by General Tullius.
Thankfully, it seemed that she wouldn't have to take part in the scrum, as the elf gestured for her to move off to one corner of the tent, which Trissa happily did. She leaned up against a sturdy wooden support pole and watched with great amusement while Eragon tried to keep his calm while he suffered the inane, vacuous nobles clawing for attention.
Eventually Saphira apparently grew tired of the seemingly endless stream of overdressed fools holding things up as she let out a deep growl that sent the nobles scattering from the tent and eliciting a chuckle from both her and the dark-skinned woman.
As the last of the nobles scuttled from the tent, Trissa decided that this would be the opportune moment to introduce herself to the leaders of this little rebellion. She straightened and walked to the center of the tent, standing before the dark-skinned woman seated on a simple wooden throne.
She paused, running her eyes over the assembled individuals. There was the woman and the king (who was examining her with undisguised curiosity). Off to one side was the elf who escorted her in, as well as the furry elf who seemed to lead the group. Eragon had moved to stand beside Saphira, and at the side of Eragon was an elven woman she hadn't seen before, but who looked quite familiar nonetheless. Flanking the woman was the six guards from before, all of them glaring at her the same way she'd seen from both the Penitus Oculatus and many Houscarles when she approached their respective charges. Trissa opened her mouth to talk, but one of the guards beat her to it.
"Do you not know any respect, stranger? Or are you so ignorant as to not know to kneel before your betters?" He said, gesturing to the woman on the throne.
Instantly, any thoughts of a polite greeting flew from Trissa's mind as her gaze darted to the human, who had the arrogance to demand that she kneel to someone who's name she didn't even know.
In short: time to heap on the sarcasm.
Trissa leaned back, raising a hand to her chest. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you had summoned the Gods themselves here!" She said with mock shock. She made a show of looked around the tent, as if searching for the deities. "Talos? Mara? Arkay? Have I been graced with your glorious presence?"
She looked back at the guard, speaking in a deadpan tone. "Or is it simply that the people of this land have an over-inflated sense of importance, to demand respect when none in the room have yet done anything to deserve such from a total stranger?"
She saw the guard's face go red with anger, and his hand twitched towards his sword.
"Daren." The stern voice of the woman caused the man to snap to attention again, his anger forgotten behind his discipline. She directed her attention to Trissa then. "You have a point, we have not been introduced. I am Nasuada, the leader of the Varden, and this is King Orin, the ruler of Surda. So, who are you?"
Time for the reveal, Trissa thought, reaching up to draw back her hood with one hand as she ended the Illusion spell she'd had on herself for almost the entire time she'd been with Eragon and Felecia.
It was unclear why what happened next occurred. Some think it may have been interference from the numerous wards on many of the individuals in the room, while others contest it was because of the excessive length of time Trissa had kept the spell running.
Regardless of the cause, something happened with the illusion spell, causing only a part of it to fail when Trissa ended it. Specifically, the portion which kept her eyes concealed.
As such, when Trissa lowered her hood, the leaders of the Varden were greeted with an elven face with blood-red eyes and pale, ashen skin. Combined with the report Arya had given weeks before about multiple minds residing within Trissa's body (which everyone here had heard of in one way or another), there was really only one conclusion to be jumped to.
"SHADE!" One of the short guards yelled, hefting his axe as the others let out various curses and oaths and drew their own weapons. The elves to her right actually developed a shocked expression before drawing weapons of their own with lightning speed.
Shit, what did I do! Trissa thought before running through a dozen ways to eliminate these sudden enemies in around a second before deciding on the least-lethal one.
"ZUN HAAL VIIK!" The Thuum ripped from her mouth in a wave of bluish energy, tearing the weapons from the hands of the six guards advancing on her as she ripped her daggers from their sheaths, blocking a sword strike of the female elf that felt more like a hit from a greatsword and stumbling backwards as the animal-elf stabbed at her chest, the strike glancing off her dragonscale chestpiece.
The unexpected strength of the elve's blows caused her to change strategy. Trissa turned her stager into a backwards roll, hurling her daggers at the sword-wielding elf as she came out of the tumble.
Soulblaze bounced off of some kind of invisible barrier, but while the elf deflected Flametongue, but the action bought her the time she needed to draw her sword…
"Blodhgarm, Iolde, stand down!"
Trissa's eyes flicked to the source of the voice, the unnamed elf who bore a striking similarity to Felicia-
Oh, that was Felecia.
The other two elves hesitated for a moment before the furred one reluctantly sheathed his weapon and backed off a bit. However, the woman spoke. "Lady Arya…"
"This woman is not a Shade, Iolde." Arya said forcefully. "Do you think I wouldn't be able to tell if I'd been traveling with one of those...creatures for over a month?"
Iolde shook her head minutely, and sheathed her blade, still regarding Trissa with a suspicious look.
The dragonborn slowly stood from her crouched position, lowering her hand from the hilt of her undrawn blade for the second time in an hour. She looked around at the people in the tent, all of whom were still regarding her with either suspicion or curiosity, save Saphira, whose expression she could not really pick up on.
Trissa calmly walked over to where her daggers had fallen, retrieved and sheathed them, then regarded the assembly again and took a deep breath.
"What the FUCK is wrong with you people?!" She shouted, letting a hint of the Thuum leak through in her anger and feeling a speck of satisfaction as a few people winced at her volume.
"I must apologize. When you lowered your hood you greatly resembled a Shade, and my men jumped to conclusions." Nasuada said
"And what exactly is so dangerous about a 'Shade' as to cause the majority of the people in this tent on launch an unprovoked attack on me?" Trissa said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"They have superhuman strength and speed, powerful magics, and can only be killed by being stabbed in the heart." The furred elf, Blodhgarm said, deadpan. "To date, there are only three people who have survived killing a Shade, one of whom Rider Eragon."
Trissa absorbed this information, then nodded. "Alright, I can understand the reaction then. I'd probably have done the same if a Vampire Lord had suddenly revealed itself in the midst of the Imperial court."
King Orin raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Trissa waved a hand. "Never mind, not important. In any case, I should probably introduce myself before something else happens." She uncrossed her arms and gave a dramatic bow. "I am Trissa Blackfire, and I am here to offer your little revolution my expertise in the arts mystical, martial, and illegal in order to bring a swift end to the reign of this Galbatorix I've heard such poor things about."
"Uh…" Nasuada honestly couldn't think of a way to respond to that, but luckily Eragon provided an interruption.
"I'm sorry, this is rude but...what are you?" The young man asked.
Trissa rolled her eyes. By his point she had lost her 'Shade' look, the spell having completely faded to reveal her ash-grey skin. "I take it you've never seen a Dunmer before, boy?"
"Um, no...what is that word you used? I've never heard that language before"
"Um...it's Elven." Trissa said, somewhat confused. "Roughly translates to 'Dark Elf' in human tongues."
Eragon looked surprised. "Wait, there are other kinds of elves?" he said, looking at Arya.
Her eyes narrowed. "Not as far as I know."
Trissa sighed and looked to the heavens. "Bormah, ofan dovah mul." She looked back down. "So I assume you are the only kinds of elves around here?" She said, gesturing at the three elves in the room.
They nodded, and she sighed again. "Well, this will be interesting." She muttered.
Orin broke in now. "What is that language you're using? It's nothing like anything I've ever heard before, and it seems you can use it for powerful magics. Is it like the ancient language, maybe a variation your people developed after separating from Alagesan elves?"
Trissa raised a hand to that. "Ok, wait, I can understand you not knowing Tamrielic Elven, but how can you not recognize the Dragon tongue and the Thu'um when you have one sticking her head in the tent?"
"Drag...dragon's don't speak, how the hell could they have a language of their own?" One of the guards said.
Trissa gaped at this, and wheeled to the scaly head of the beast that had so far observed this exchange with complete silence.
"Los daar vahzah, Briinah? Dreh hi ni Tinvaak fin Thu'um se un Bormah?" She said.
The dragon cocked her head, and Trissa felt a strange pressure on the edge of her mind. She felt a few dragons rush towards it, but she quickly smashed them back into a corner of her mind with sheer willpower.
Then a voice, rumbling and powerful but with a definite femininity rolled through her mind. "I know not the words you speak, grey one, but they send shivers to my soul. Where did you learn them?" Saphira asked, both curious and cautious as to the strange power of this language, so different from that used by her partner of Heart and Mind.
Trissa blinked a few times, then looked at the others. "I assume you heard that too?"
They all nodded. She pointed at the dragon. "And that was…"
"Saphira, yes. That is how dragon's communicate, through their minds. What do you mean by Dragon Tongue?" Eragon asked, stepping closer to her with a look of confusion and suspicion in his eyes.
Trissa sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose before glaring again at the roof of the tent and the sky beyond. "Fen hi krif zu'u ahst enook meyz, Bormahu?" She said with mixed anger and annoyance.
She turned back to Nasuada. "Look, I understand that a good half of what I've been saying would be little better than gibberish to you people, but I am rather tired from today's events, including fending off your freakishly strong elven friends, so I ask; will you accept my offer to help, or will I have to find a map and figure out where Galbatorix lives all on my own?"
If Nasuada was fazed by her assertion to attack the Mad King alone if turned away, she didn't show it. "The Varden is always happy for more soldiers, but before we can permit you to join one of our wizards will have to examine your mind, just to ensure that you are truly a friend. Otherwise we cannot permit you to leave." She said the last part a bit threateningly, and Trissa rolled her eyes internally at that.
"Considering that's how she talks, I assume that the dragon is capable of examining my thoughts and such?" Trissa asked.
"Yes. Why?" Eragon asked.
"Until I get a chance to explain...a great many things, she is the only being I will permit to see my memories. Is that acceptable?"
Nasuada looked at the glimmering blue dragon, who snorted. "I can do such." Saphira thought/said.
Nasuada nodded and gestured towards Trissa, Eragon and Arya stepping back as Saphira slid her head closer to the Dunmer, Trissa's reflection clear in the dragon's plate-sized eyes.
Again she felt the pressure on the edge of her mind, and again some of the dragons rushed towards it only to be battered back. Be swift, Briinah, I cannot hold them from you for very long. She projected to the dragon.
Saphira swiftly went through Trissa's memories working backwards, seeing her travels with Eragon and Arya, her arrival in that small village so long ago, and then Trissa felt the dragon's shock as she came upon the memories of Trissa's brief time in the realm of the Divines, and her talk with Akatosh. She went a little further back, seeing her last few moments in the realm of Mundus, and then jumping back a long ways, arriving at a memory of Trissa battling with a pair of rogue blood-dragons alongside Aela, Vilkas, and her daughter, Feliris.
The dragon, to stunned to even properly form words, projected feeling of confusion and questioning towards her, that she responded to with a mental shake of her head. I cannot explain now, but please, do not tell anyone of this yet. I'd rather explain the...circumstances of my arrival myself.
She sensed some hesitation, but quickly an affirmative feeling washed through the mental link. Very well, Dovahkiin...Saphira said as she withdrew. Trissa's sight returned, and she saw the dragon shake her head slightly and snort a small puff of smoke from her nose before looking at Nasuada.
"She is trustworthy." Was all she said, but everyone (save the elves) seemed to visibly relax at the declaration.
Nasuada's lips curled into a small smile as she looked at the red-eyed woman before her, mind already ticking through the ways this woman with strange powers could affect both the war effort and the internal politics of the rebellion.
"Well then, Miss Blackfire, I welcome you to the Varden."
...
A/N: Well, here's a bit more for all of you who seem to like this story. Seriously, this story has been up for less than a month and it already has almost a third as many Follows and Faves as my largest story, Necessary Monsters, despite being a fifth the size of that story. Well, thanks for that everyone. I apreciate it.
This chapter gave me some difficulty, and I still feel a bit iffy on some parts. I'm not the most confident writing established character faithfully, so if you feel I did poorly for someone please let me know. Also let me know if I did good, as I feed primarily on the positive reinforcement of strangers on the internet.
Also, credit to FF.N user Snipern0sniping for giving me the idea to have Trissa mistaken for a shade. Thanks for that, sir/madam/other.
That covers just about everything. Thanks for reading; if you're new and like what you saw, please follow and fave. If you aren't, please leave a Review. As always, until the next chapter:
Fah Bormahu ahrk fin Dovahkiin, Fonaar!