Thank you all so, so much for all of the lovely reviews! Well, almost all of them were lovely. I'll just say this; criticism is only nice if it is constructive. Don't just start accusing me randomly of random things, offer me some ideas for when I edit this. Also, one of you- I won't mention any names- (*cough* du vrangr draumr *cough*) needs to learn how to spell…
"Thank you." She said simply.
"For what?"
"For staying safe."
Before he could reply, Arya put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him chastely on the lips once before turning and running towards the next man.
Ten minutes before
"Um, Blodhgarm?" A timid healer approached the agitated wolf-elf, and he spun around. His lips barely concealed the half formed snarl that rose in his throat. The woman, dressed in a white apron that was stained crimson with blood, shrank back in terror. She pressed on bravely. "We're, um, ready for our next patient now."
Blodhgarm arranged his lips into a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Of course. He'll be right in."
The healer gave a hurried curtsey and scurried away from him, glancing over her shoulder nervously. Blodhgarm sighed and strode out of the tent, where any survivors were being taken to receive emergency medical aid. Upon leaving the shelter, he looked up at the evening sky. It was quite spectacular, he had to admit: the blue canvas that separated the earth from whatever lay beyond was unblemished, with not a cloud in sight, and skylarks flitted playfully across it, singing joyfully and carelessly. Beautiful as this place was, however, Blodhgarm missed trees. The trees of Ellesmera Forest were in his blood. He needed them, and he needed the magical whispers that held their secrets as the wind breathed through their emerald leaves gently. More than anything, he needed home.
But Blodhgarm was a warrior, and he knew he could not submit to his weaknesses so easily. Shadeslayer and Brightscales needed him- not to mention Princess Arya. No, he knew he must stay.
"Lord Blodhgarm?" The soft hand of his Elvin comrade, Sareal, rested hesitantly on his shoulder. "Are… are you alright?"
"Yes," he replied firmly. Now was not the time to be thinking of home. The hand was removed. Blodhgarm frowned. "But where on earth is Eragon?"
"Does it hurt?"
Roran winced as Katrina peeled the shirt from his aching back, no matter how gentle she tried to be. I was a fool not to accept Gertrude's offer of bandages, he was forced to admit, gritting his teeth. Nevertheless, he knew that he had been right to decline; bandages would have laboured his movements and stopped him from moving as quickly as he did. Without bandages, he had been able to move freely, but the scabs on his back from the flogging had cracked open again, drenching him in blood. Now that his armour was off, Katrina had been horrified to note that the scabs, barely healed, had healed over Roran's thin undershirt. Now, she attempted to peel off his shirt without causing him un-nessacery pain.
It wasn't working.
"I should do it quickly, if I were you," Elain, ready at the mouth of the tent with bandages and herbs, advised Katrina. "It will hurt less in the long run."
Katrina nodded and gripped the hem of Roran's shirt with both hands. Tears of her husband's pain welled in her eyes. "Ready, love? One- two-"
Roran gritted his teeth, screwing his eyes up.
"THREE!"
"Where is Eragon?" Nasuada demanded, completing another length of her tent. She had been striding up and down her crimson room since she had returned to it, and had no intention to stop.
Her maid, Farica, stepped forward from where she stood at the edge of Nasuada's bed. "My Lady, I expect he is resting in his tent- as you should be-"
"Farica, I have no desire to rest until I know whether or not Lord Eragon is safe!" The maid hurried back into the corner, her head bowed. Nasuada continued to stride restlessly. Her armour hindered her, and she pulled at it, irritated. Farica stumbled forward to free her from it, then retreated into her corner. Sighing, Nasuada approached the door and leant her head above the wooden frame. Where is he?
Then, with a sudden cry of delight that sent Farica running towards her, Nasuada smiled as she spotted Saphira fly across the slowly darkening sky, Eragon perched upon her back. He is safe! Nasuada sighed in relief. Soon he would return to her…
"I am so, so sorry, love!" Katrina stroked her husband's tousled hair, her tears dropping silently and steadily onto the nape of his neck. Elain and Gertrude were attending to his back, but he winced all the while. Each wince sent Katrina into a new torrent of grief and anger for Roran. The sight of her loved one in pain made her tears fall ever more freely.
"I am fine, love. Don't trouble yourself," Roran smiled weakly, but in Katrina's eyes it looked more like a grimace. Behind them, Gertrude attended to his wounds as fast as she could, but they would not heal fast enough.
Where is Eragon?
Nasuada had changed hurriedly into a dress, and waited for Eragon to return to her. Her patience was wearing thin.
Where is Eragon?
Blodhgarm stormed through the camp, ignoring the members of the Varden that stared at him. He made his way to the bank that overlooked the stretch of earth before the Northern gate that had today been their battleground. Upon reaching it, he leaped onto it and his Elvin eyes raked the battlefield before him. It was not hard to spot Eragon; Elvin sight or no, the giant Sapphire dragon that accompanied him was never hard to make out from a distance. Arya stood before him, and the injured man lay in his arms.
Blodhgarm turned to leave, but something held him in his place. His Elvin ears had no trouble on hearing the conversation that took place almost a league away.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For staying safe."
And then the wolf-elf watched in absolute horror as Arya, Princess Arya, the last heir to his Queen's throne, kissed Eragon, the last free Rider.
For a moment, Blodhgarm remained frozen in shock- as, it seemed, Eragon did also. Then, he regained his wits.
Sareal? He thought frantically.
Yes, Lord Blodhgarm?
Contact Queen Islazandi.
He watched the Princess run from Eragon, shock clear on both of their faces.
Tell her it's an emergency.