Author's Note: Please enjoy this chapter. New chapters will be uploaded every Sunday.
Gathering of Nobles
I - Roran
Roran averted his gaze from the fast-approaching dragon to look upon Ismira and Garron. Both stared wide-eyed towards the sky with their mouths agape. Garron was drooling, hardly noticing it drip to his chin. Seeing them Roran tried his best to not laugh, and instead managed a quiet snicker.
He tugged upon his children beckoning them to follow him and join Katrina. Once they joined Katrina Roran returned his gaze towards the sky. A tinge of colour appeared in the moonlight it was reflecting, shining like a massive emerald in the sky. It belonged to the first free dragon of the golden age. Fírnen-vodhr.
"Sire," Berenford called from atop the gate, "a message has arrived from the southern outpost. King Orik and Chieftain Nar Garzhvog are approaching Carvahall's eastern gate."
"Very well," Roran said.
Fírnen roared as loud as several thunderclaps, causing the crowd to gasp. They watched in astonishment as Fírnen glided down before the city gates, and once he landed a gentle tremor rumbled the ground.
Fírnen walked through the gate and stood before Roran; fierce and majestic. And upon his back sat two queens. At the fore was an ebony-haired elf with fair skin wearing a silver dress and a beautiful diadem rested upon her head. From her noble posture, Roran recognised her as Arya Dröttning, Queen of the elves.
Behind Arya sat Queen Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad. She wore a black sheath dress that hugged her thin figure, while her hair was done up in a tight bun with a pin to keep it in place. The whole crowd bowed before her while whispering, My Queen.
"Welcome my Queens," said Roran his arms open wide, "to the city of Carvahall." The crowd cheered and white flower petals rained from atop the city walls.
####
The feast started spectacularly. There were pickle stuffed ducks, roasted partridges, lamb shanks, beef chops, creamy salad, several varieties of soup, and a giant boar roasting on a spit in the centre of the great hall. Roran was impressed that the city had given so much towards Garron's feast. For their generosity he invited many of them tonight.
The walls were lined with Dwarvish lanterns and a grand chandelier hung at the centre of the hall. The musicians played their jolly tunes while the jugglers danced around the room. The festive mood brought cheerful smiles to everyone.
Roran, his family, and the nobles sat at the head of the great hall around a large table that stood on a raised platform. In front of them were the city-folk laughing, talking, cheering, dancing, and singing while enjoying the banquet being served to them. Katrina sat to Roran's right and Orik to his left while Nar Garzhvog sat to Orik's left. Across from Roran sat Arya and Nasuada with Garron and Ismira's seats empty as they mingled with the crowd below.
Ismira was particularly enjoying herself. Her hands were folded behind her back as she danced from dancer to singer, her yellow embroidered dress frolicking around. The city-folk cheered her on, amazed that their young lady was such a good dancer. Garron on the other hand gazed open-mouthed at a flaming juggler, completely oblivious to the fact that his father was smiling at him.
The entertainers — who stood at the other end of the hall — bowed towards the nobles every time they finished a performance. Orik and Nar Garzhvog cheered with an uproar then skulked down the mead in their large tankards. The serving girls were frightened by their boisterous acts, or maybe because there was a twelve feet urgal in the hall.
Roran and Nasuada laughed while Arya simply smiled. Serving girls presented Arya and Nasuada with an assortment of drinks. Nasuada accepted a glass of wine from one of the serving girls, while Arya appreciatively took a glass of fresh apple and berry juice. Orik looked disdainfully at Arya's choice of drink, while Nar Garzhvog had refilled his tankard making Roran lose count of how much the urgal had drunk in such a short span of time.
Garron, after being bored at looking at the jugglers, suddenly jumped as Fírnen's head appeared outside the tall arched windows behind Nasuada and Arya. The entertainers looked at each other nervously knowing the sight of a dragon was beyond any entertainment they could perform. The city-folk clapped wildly at the sight, some raising their cups in toast to the magisterial beast.
Garron ran back to Roran's table, his mouth trying to mutter something important. After catching his breath he spoke. "Master Fírnen, why are you so green? And how have you grown so big?" Garron asked. A plume of smoke escaped Fírnen's nostrils.
Arya chuckled. "Fírnen tells me he doesn't like being summarised as simply green. He asks for a more flattering adjective."
"But look at him," Garron said, turning to Arya while pointing directly at Fírnen. "He is so green. I cannot call him colourful."
"Garron, don't bother Master Fírnen," said Katrina with a stern look towards her son. "If you worked harder during your studies you would have known a few more words."
"Come on mother," Garron said. "Me and Fírnen are actually quite good friends."
Katrina was about to retort but Arya interrupted. "It is fine Katrina. Fírnen does not actually mind."
Katrina sighed. "Very well."
"It is quite an impressive feast you have arranged Roran," said Nasuada, her eyes roaming the hall.
"Aye," Roran said, "it is an honour that you have graced this feast with your presence tonight."
Orik laughed clapping Roran on the back. "You cousin have outdone yourself. We dwarves would have put this feast down as one of the most grand in history."
Roran smiled but he knew Orik was just complimenting him out of good nature rather than honesty. The dwarven feasts were usually several times bigger than tonight's feast. "Well I'm glad you are happy," Roran said. "The last time I had met you you seemed quite bitter about losing the Ilirea Games."
Orik choked a bit on his chicken bone before he spat it out. He looked at Arya pointedly. "Unlike our opponents we preferred not to cheat."
Nasuada laughed. "The past is in the past. The dwarves will have their chance again."
"When the elves learn to play fair," Nar Garzhvog added.
"Not you too," Nasuada said softly. "It was because Rah Kharzed tampered with his hammer that the urgals were disqualified. Why should you blame the elves for that incident?"
Nar Garzhvog grunted. "Rah Kharzed is an honourable lad. The puny elves had deliberately planted that hammer in the training ground."
"You know we did not Nar Garzhvog," Arya said simply. She looked down at her half-filled glass, lost in some thought.
"I demand another investigation", Orik said, his moustache twitching slightly. "I will not accept the elves had won. We were better prepared and a couple of rules brought us down at the final bout."
"Accusing me that I had fixed a couple of rules is dangerous," Arya said. "I suggest you keep it to yourself. The investigation was as thorough as it could be."
For a moment it seemed as if Orik was ready to leave the hall. Then suddenly he burst into laughter. Everyone else soon followed causing Arya to smile as she shook her head slightly. Orik didn't really believe the Ilirea Games were fixed, but he loved to act that it was in order to make the occasional gathering a bit less awkward.
"You have been quiet Stronghammer," Orik said. "Tell us how you have been."
"Busy and well," Roran said, gently squeezing Katrina's shoulders. She turned towards him, reflecting the radiant smile he gave to her.
"It has been peaceful here," Katrina said. "That is all I can ask."
Nasuada smiled as best as she could to that. Roran sensed that there was much disappointment behind that smile and he knew why. If only the rest of her empire was as peaceful as here. Katrina was ignorant of the events outside Palancar Valley and Roran wanted to keep it that way. She had witnessed enough death and horror for one life.
"But enough of me," Roran said. "Tell me of all your adventures. Last I heard you were building a port city larger than Teirm."
"My coffers are nearly empty," Nasuada said. "We will have to halt the building and focus more on trade."
"If you have a reasonable deal then I am happy to negotiate with you," Orik said. "We dwarves are literally pissing gold."
"I do have a preposition," Nasuada said, "but we will discuss it at the Surda Games this year."
Orik shrugged with a smug grin. "My scholars are pressuring me to send some of them to Drovengard to seek more knowledge that could benefit us. I could strike a profitable deal if I could be given a sizeable number of ships of my own."
"We are not here to discuss politics right now," Katrina said.
"I am curious about Drovengard. I heard it is the most beautiful city in existence," Ismira said, sitting down next to Arya. As usual Ismira always managed to find herself in the right conversation at the right time as Roran had not seen her arrive from the far end of the hall.
Orik nodded, a faraway look in his eyes, "That's what I have heard as well. After all it took seven years to complete the city with the best mages Alagaesia had to offer. I am sure Queen Arya may enlighten us more."
Everyone turned to Arya, except for Garron who seemed to be chatting happily away with Fírnen.
"The rumours are true," Arya said. "Eragon Shadeslayer has built a grander city than the old order of riders had built in Vroengard."
"So the elven scholars have returned?" Roran asked.
Arya nodded. "Some have but they are eager to go back. The tales they tell mesmerise everyone."
And so Arya engaged everyone with tales of this new land called Ascillion where Drovengard lay. The food and songs did not overpower the joy and wonder of Arya's powerful storytelling ability. Everyone had something to add and questions they asked. Arya patiently handled the affair. Even though Roran enjoyed it immensely a small sense of emptiness grew within him. It felt like someone was missing among them, and no matter how much he tried to quell the thoughts, they returned. I wish you could be here cousin…
"Roran?" Queen Arya asked.
Roran broke out of his daze meeting Arya's questioning eyes. "Sorry…did you ask me a question?"
"No. But it seemed you were deep in thought."
"Oh, it's nothing," Roran lied, looking down at his food. He then clapped his hand and stood up smiling. The guards banged on their shields until the city-folk quieted down.
"Bring in the cake for my dear boy!" Roran announced.
Garron ran to take his position at the centre of the hall where everyone stood around him. The cooks brought in a chocolate cake that was three layers tall and atop was a small young toy figure astride an orange dragon with a sword brandished out. "That is me!" Garron said, recognising himself as the young figure. Everyone cheered once Garron cut himself the largest slice and kept the toy figure.
"Wouldn't you like your presents first?" Nasuada said, catching Garron off-guard.
"I had almost forgot!" Garron said.
As Roran looked around to all the faces standing around his son, he felt a sense of family. He imagined Eragon standing beside him with Garron on his shoulders and realised how much more joyous the day would have been. Roran felt something caress his cheeks and realised it was a tear. He quickly wiped it away before anyone noticed.
I can't ruin this day because I am sad.
Orik was the first to give Garron his present. It was a sheen, steel object made of rings which intertwined to create a complex pattern. "This will sharpen your wits young master Garron," Orik said, flicking one of the rings. "I wager you could solve this faster than your uncle did when I journeyed with him."
"You always give me odd gifts," said Garron, clinking the rings vigorously in order to solve the riddle. Afterwards Nasuada gave Garron an orb of glass which when touched presented images of past dragons that hatched in Alagaesia after Galbatorix's demise. Ismira looked jealous as she loved to gaze upon art that inspired her creatively.
Nar Garzhvog then stepped forward and presented Garron with a beaded necklace that had a large, sharp tooth as the pennant. "This is the tooth of the Shrrg. Whomsoever wears this is considered an extremely brave urgal. The way you handled Fírnen today you're braver than a brave Urgal!"
Garron wore the necklace and puffed his chest out. "I will be the bravest rider in Alagaesia!"
Arya presented the last gift. She gave Garron a bronze scroll holder engraved with beautiful runes.
"Open it," Arya said.
Garron twisted the scroll holder from both ends. With a pop a scroll fell out of the holder and onto his hand.
"What you have in your hand is a poem Eragon wrote in Ellesméra," Arya said. "It is very precious and rare. I want you to take care of it."
"My uncle wrote this?" Garron said, tears forming. "Thank you Queen Arya."
Nasuada sighed. "Poor Garron. He really wants to meet his uncle." She then reached down and kissed him on the cheek before enveloping him in a gentle hug.
After the cake had been cut everyone returned to their seats.
"Queen Arya and Queen Nasuada," Garron said. "I've wanted to ask you for some time now. Did my uncle charm any of you?" Roran felt his cheeks flush red. Surprised and taken aback Arya and Nasuada took their time in order to come up with a response. Roran looked at Katrina who desperately tried to hold back laughter.
It seems the blood of Brom and Eragon runs in large quantities within this child, Fírnen said. Otherwise he would never ask these many questions. Roran was curious as to how Fírnen knew about Brom but then realised that Saphira must have imparted some memories to him before she had left.
"At first your uncle had the charm of a spoon," Nasuada said gently. "But then later he was probably the second most charming man I ever met."
"Which means I am the first," replied Garron.
Nasuada laughed. "Something like that."
Arya cleared her throat. Everyone turned silent. "Charming was…one way to describe him," Arya stated bluntly.
Garron seemed satisfied with the response and thus returned to finishing his cake slice while playing with his toy figure all sticky with sugar.
Then suddenly a flash of blue erupted in front of Garron. He yelped in surprise and ran to his mother, hiding behind the folds of her dress.
So much for the brave Urgal, Roran thought amusingly.
Across from Roran Arya raised her hand and a dome of yellow light formed around the blue, pulsating speck.
"Someone is attempting to send something here," Arya said, straining her eyes. "I can't prevent it. The power is too strong."
"Don't fight it," Roran said. "I was waiting for this."
The yellow dome burst into shards of light, before dissipating into glowing smoke. With a heavy thud something dropped onto the table. It was a small wooden chest with the words, From Eragon Shadeslayer and the people of Drovengard, etched at the front.
"Uncle Eragon has sent me my gift!" said Garron, running over to the wooden chest and grabbing it.
Orik, Arya and Nasuada were confused by this, while Nar Garzhvog seemed ready to attack an unseen foe.
"What if it is a cursed artefact?" Nar Garzhvog said.
The box opened with a slight crack, and inside were two odd objects. To the left was a silver necklace made of two chains intertwined together to create an intricate pattern. The pennant of the necklace was a purple sapphire with a blue pulsating light at the centre. That sapphire looked more majestic and grander than any gem Roran had laid eyes upon. Looking at Orik it seemed the king had also never seen such a beautiful gem in his life.
Below the sapphire was a small note saying: For Ismira. May I see you in Drovengard someday. When you arrive wear that necklace and I will recognise you. Sent by a friend of your uncle.
Beside the necklace was a short model of a sword that resembled the legendary blade Brisingr. It was crafted with such skill Roran could not tell the difference, except for the size of course. Unfortunately this one did not have a note.
Everyone on the table leaned in, their eyes fixed upon the presents. After observing every inch of the blade, Garron looked back into the parcel, and found a folded parchment. Garron opened it in haste and there in jet-black ink, written by Eragon's hand, was:
Dear Garron and Ismira,
Happy birthday my dear Garron. I'm sorry I have not been able to talk to you both as I had promised and have been a very bad uncle. However, I send this gift to you now in the hopes that you may forgive me. There is not a day that goes by in which I don't miss all of you in Alagaesia and wish that I was there with you right now celebrating your birthday. But alas, it is not within my power. All I can do is wish that both of you live a great life and that all your dreams come true. I know you hate me for not talking to you, but either I can hurt myself everyday by talking to you and not return, or I can hurt myself once by not talking to you until I can return. I love you from the depth of my heart. Stay safe and live life to the fullest.
Love Eragon
Without a moment to waste Ismira wore her necklace with the help of Katrina and twirled about, showing off her new gift, while Garron swung his blunted short sword wildly. Eragon, like always, even though you're thousands of leagues away, you still manage to spoil your nephew and niece.
After the gifts, the feast came to an end.
####
Roran escorted the royals to his castle while Katrina headed off to the living chambers with Garron and Ismira. The guests thanked the nobles for the feast and went home to rest.
Even though Roran wanted the feast to be the last event for tonight more troubling matters had to be addressed concerning Alagaesia. Roran led the nobles to a wide room, with maps laid out on a wide, circular stone table.
The royals sat around the table before Nasuada. "Let us begin," Nasuada said, her voice echoing in the war chamber.
