I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I had enjoyed writing it. Here the plot takes an interesting turn. Please share your thoughts.
A Fragile Peace
I - Arya
Sitting on the knotted throne Arya traced a finger over her armrest, the familiar chill of the dark lustrous surface coursing through her skin. She wanted to detach her thoughts from the council meeting at hand, from the constant bickering.
"The Surda Games are the perfect opportunity to present our claim on Ilirea," Arinor said, gaining nods of approbation from his side of the council. "That is the day we shall remind the humans that they need to humble themselves before us. Nasuada, an educated woman, knows the historical importance of that city. Yet, brazenly she makes it her capital! That is an insult we must answer to."
Arya's political obstacles began and ended with Arinor. Svelte and tall, he had a charismatic frame that naturally gravitated attention. The way he spoke was articulate, intimate and inviting. He would stride briskly, always making sure he was accompanied by an impressive entourage.
While many perceived these qualities to be noble gifts, Arya saw them as cold and calculating. Arinor kept his smile neither wide or tight, and displayed it for neither a long or short amount of time. She noticed he wore a trim pearl-white coat, signalling to her that he planned to give a long, impressive speech. And she was precisely right. She saw through his façade like clear water. I may be lenient, but I am not a fool.
"What would you have us do Councillor Arinor?" Arya said, levelling her tone. "Go to war?"
"Nasuada stands on a precarious position, my queen. Might I add that she also needs us to maintain peace within her realm."
Is this what is expected of me? To pull the rug out from beneath my allies when they are vulnerable?
"We don't betray signed agreements," Talvinus stated, sitting across from Arinor. "What you're suggesting is an immense gamble. A gamble that could cost Alagaesia its peace. Aren't we all tired of making enemies?"
Arinor smiled. "It is in Nasuada's best interest that she not allow us to be her enemies. But our softness with her is making her over-ambitious. Humans have laughed and mocked us, for years, and they shall keep doing it, for years. Only when we show our strength will they start to respect us."
"I had made my position clear," Talvinus said. "While I did not support my queen's decision to hand over Ilirea I shall defend her position to maintain peace."
Ever since that controversial decision Arya had to claw back popular support. I can still see that it pains Talvinus to mention Ilirea.
"It is a misunderstanding that I do not desire peace," Arinor said, turning towards Arya. "I always stood beside your mother. Stood behind her decision to keep our people in peaceful hiding, rather than fight Galbatorix. So, I do not want to be perceived as actively seeking war. I want the dignity of our people back. With all due respect, my queen, your mother would not have supported letting Ilirea go. She would not have supported allowing Carvahall to amass power near our border. She would not have supported Nasuada maintaining a stronghold over the Council of Eüdh."
Watching the image of her mother disappointed troubled her. This discussion is leading to nowhere.
She stood from her throne. "There is a lot of confusion among our people of where we are heading. To elevate those concerns I shall speak with Nasuada personally. However, let there be one thing clear: we shall never resolve our issues with intimidation." She sat back down. "That is all for today."
Arinor displayed a hint of achievement, that he was finally beginning to have influence on the council more than he did before. He is probably thinking on how to twist the knife deeper next time.
As every councillor left the room Arya felt her body slowly unwind. She rested her head back against the cold surface of her lonely throne.
The overcast began to clear, while there was still a mutter of thunder in the distance. Spring rains had arrived in plentiful amounts this season, fuelling the energy of the forest. The sun, glorious and fiery orange, embraced Arya with warmth, blooming the hall with golden light. Her mind was being pulled from two ends; the sun enticing her to leave everything behind, while the throne pulled her back to her duty. What she needed was the perspective of a close friend, and just in time Fírnen melded his mind with hers.
How long must I keep young Fiora company? asked Fírnen.
Arya smiled. I would say the whole day. The poor child is very lonely with Loriel.
They say dragons should responsibly carry the weight of the land upon their shoulders. And here I am watching a young girl. Wonderful, she has begun to climb my tail.
Responsibility isn't as thrilling as we make it out to be.
How did the council meeting go? I am guessing the charming Arinor wouldn't let Ilirea go.
I understand where he is coming from. My father had also died defending Ilirea.
To make decisions emotionally is folly my young queen. While many do not see the wisdom behind your decision, I do. Your sacrifice to let Ilirea go was a symbolic trust of peace, and a reassurance of your ability to rule, without emotion dictating your actions. Otherwise, we might be embroiled in a catastrophic war for that city.
It didn't stop the two wars that we had.
At least you are fighting weaker foes than Nasuada. Not to mention Murtagh still looms. He would side with Nasuada if there was a war, and his experience is much greater than ours. Even if we did eventually win it would cost more lives than what Illirea is worth.
But what if there was a peaceful way?
The chance to peacefully claim Ilirea rested upon Eragon's shoulders. I believe he had a reason for not bringing it up soon after the war ended.
He could have done great things for Alagaesia. Yet his last act was to end a war.
An impressive feat for someone so young. Oh, there she goes again…
What is it?
Young Fiora wants me to fly as high as I can while she watches. At least I could hunt birds in those precious seconds.
Keep her happy. I shall see you tonight.
Also, my young queen, I should remind you. Loriel wants to speak to you. She was heading to Tialdari Hall just now.
Arya promptly left the throne room, casting not a single glance towards the councillors and ambassadors gathered in loud murmuring inside the rotunda.
Near the tall, chased metal doors, that led to her private quarters, stood a single guard, his gloved hands gripping the pommel of his sword as he held his head low. One didn't need to inquire about his experience, as it showed by his dark, steely-eyed gaze. His white cloak draped to his ankles, revealing a breastplate emblazoned with the Menoa Tree. He had stood there all morning. By his presence alone anyone seeking to harm Arya would think twice.
As she made her presence known Thehrendil raised his head, his hard gaze replaced by a soft smile. He bowed low, sheathing his sword in the formal salute of the Elvenguard. "May the stars watch over you, my queen."
Arya acknowledged him with a nod as he stood by her side. There were not many individuals left in Du Weldenvarden that had served her father closely. Thehrendil was one of them, a veteran guard of more than five hundred years.
"I presume it went as usual?" Thehrendil asked. He picked out from his pocket a chocolate candy wrapped in soft paper and held it out to her. Giving her small treats was something he had done for Arya when he had first seen her along with her father, and he continued to do so ever since.
Arya smiled before taking the candy. "If my mother had ever caught you giving me these everyday…".
"I would've been in trouble," said Therehndil, chuckling. "She was always very protective of you."
"That she was," she said, remembering those days.
A brief silence descended between them before Thehrendil asked, "Where would my queen like to be escorted?"
"It's been an exhausting morning," said Arya with a deep breath. "Loriel wants to discuss some matter, so I'll wait for her in my quarters."
He nodded letting her walk in front before he followed. As they walked, she glanced outside through the arched windows. A single road — paved with smooth stones and shaded by tall oak trees — meandered through the luxuriant gardens. From every corner of the realm gardeners contributed various plant specimens when they visited the capital. The smell of freshly cut grass and fragrant flowers permeated through the gardens and into the Hall — leaves rustled under the gentle breeze. In the gardens, hardly anyone was present, apart from a group of girls sitting atop a high branch, and a few children chasing rabbits through the meadow field. During spring, many people in Ellesméra gathered near the cool streams in Tèlvar Falls.
Although Arya found the lonely peace comforting, her heart yearned for the thundering clouds in the distance. It reminded her of the thrill when facing battle. The vengeance that had embroiled in her heart, due to Durza's torture, had never really tamed. Part of her felt sickened that she missed her old life, knowing the horrors she had witnessed.
"Thehrendil?" Arya said suddenly, hoping to divert her mind.
"My queen?"
"Have you found the new Elvenguard for me?"
"Well," he said, clearly taken back by the sudden question, "ever since word got out, hundreds from the Elven Legion put forth their names. There was one volunteer who managed to impress me."
"Oh?" Arya inquired. Thehrendil was hardly ever impressed.
"Indeed," he said with a light chuckle. "Her name is Evien."
"Where does she currently serve?"
"In General Arl's guard, my queen. In fact, she is the youngest soldier to volunteer for the Elvenguard. Thirty years younger than your excellency, I believe."
"Impressive." Arya had also learnt to fight at a young age.
"She certainly is impressive," Thehrendil said aloud. "The way she manoeuvres her blade is as if it was a limb of her own. Yet, I am reserved about her age, mainly owing to her lack of experience. It takes much more than being a great fighter to be an Elvenguard. One needs judgement as well."
"Then why is she at the top of your list?"
His smile grew wider. "You would hardly believe what I had witnessed. She had overcome four of the Elvenguards during her trial. At first, when she proclaimed her challenge to duel an Elevenguard, I took her down as being arrogant. The way she fought, however…I saw courage in her eyes unlike anything I had seen. Afterwards, she cornered me at the end of the trials – told me that it was her dream to serve in the Elvenguard."
Arya smiled before turning towards Thehrendil. "Take my advice. Promote her. She sounds quite…unique."
"I do not take things lightly when it comes to your life, my queen. If the stars show me a path, I will make the decision by the end of the month."
"Say, that you do not take my advice–"
"Or that Field Marshal Däthedr refuses my choice. He has the final say."
"I will deal with him. Your approval is the only discretion I am willing to allow for this matter. Anyway, if you do not take my advice, I still wish to meet her."
"I'll certainly arrange that."
"Very well."
By now they had begun climbing the broad, pearl-white steps; the entrance towards the royal abode. During times of battle, guards would be posted at every room, but in times of peace Thehrendil thought it fit to post only twelve guards. Magic was the real secret to Arya's safety; any intruder within several feet would be incinerated in less than half an eye blink. The guards were only a final resort in case someone — or something — miraculously evaded the magical barriers.
Arya slept in her childhood room, the place where she could see her father's study from her window. Occasionally, he would look up from whatever he was reading and smile towards her. Those moments had assured her that she was safe in the world, that her parents would always be there.
When they reached her room, Thehrendil stood guard beside her door. He lowered his head and then unsheathed his sword, directing the point firmly to the ground.
Arya could still smell the fresh polish from the mahogany door; nothing had changed about that since she was a child. It reminded her of those moments when she ran inside to craft something to impress her mother. It had been months since she crafted anything; the last thing was a flower brooch for Loriel's birthday with a large diamond in the centre.
Inside, everything was largely untouched, except for the things around her bed that the maids had tidied up. Arya firmly closed the door behind her. Despite it being her old room it was spacious; it had a circulate study desk, a small library of interspersed book cases, a few large wardrobes and a splendid glass case displaying her old sword and leather armour.
Birds chirped on the balcony as they fed on the bread crumbs she had left for them. From up here she could watch the measureless expanse of Du Weldenvarden's forest.
Her eyes were diverted by a loud caw, towards a white raven perched on the window ledge of her father's study. Blagden turned his head to one side and cawed again, this time more loudly. "The hive that once flourished, shall later be extinguished. Old friend, old friend, who then shall be nourished?"
Stepping away from the windows Arya began to strip away all her accoutrements, then began to untie her flowing white dress. She stripped down until all she was wearing was a red slip dress and underpants. In front of the mirror, she assessed herself. After standing there for a short while Arya fell chest-first onto her bed and dozed off.
After what must have been all morning, Arya was aroused by a gentle touch on her right thigh. She turned on her back to see who it was. Loriel stood there smiling with a twinkle in her brown eyes and a slight blush on her cheeks. In her hands she held out a long, green robe. "A bit undressed for duty today," she remarked sarcastically. "Don't tell me you conducted the council meeting in undergarments."
Arya stood up and smiled, then turned her back to Loriel as she helped her into the green robe.
"Even if you did," Loriel said, "at least it will liven up the mood around the throne."
They laughed out loud, then hugged each other. Loriel wore a tight crimson dress, which cut off at her knees, perfectly fitting her strong figure. Her long, flowing blonde hair was tied back in a beautiful three-stranded braid. Even though she was a councillor it was not required of her to attend the morning gatherings as she was too busy managing trade agreements. Arya placed her hands on Loriel's shoulders. "What was it that you wanted to discuss?"
"Maybe we should discuss this while eating berries," Loriel said, pointing to her small basket on the study desk.
Arya sighed. "Bringing berries into official discussion means you have bad news."
"However did you find out?" Loriel remarked in her usual sarcasm. "Ambassador Nelmora couldn't convince Teirm to allow the expansion of new elven docks."
Arya sat back on her bed, drumming her fingers on her knee. Loriel grabbed the berry basket and sat next to her near the edge. "Nelmora," Arya whispered. "She has been there for two months. Those merchants are striving to slow the process down."
"I know."
"I thought we gave them a deal they couldn't refuse."
"That's my fault for telling you that. The merchants want a five percent share of the Silk Pass."
"I'm only willing to allow two."
"I know you wouldn't agree to it. I wouldn't agree with it either. That's why I told Nelmora in advance."
"So do we bring her back? Or, keep negotiating?"
"I'm never the one to back down from a fight. I just needed your approval for my next plan. Berry?"
Arya nodded and grabbed a few berries from the basket, before placing one in her mouth. "Alright, Loriel. What is this plan of yours?"
"It's complicated."
"Of course it is."
Loriel chuckled, tossing a berry into her mouth. "We might have a chance if we provide them with a garrison fleet, at a quarter of the hiring rate, and for only a year. Then half the hiring rate for the next year. It'll allow them to recuperate the ships they lost on the Larson Line."
"It doesn't mean they will agree…"
"Our ships are in the highest demand. It'll certainly give them food for thought. If they're still stubborn after this I'll personally go to Teirm."
Arya chuckled. "They should shake in their boots. Okay, I'll allow your complicated plan."
Loriel nodded confidently. "I won't let you down."
The conversation between them turned light-hearted after that. It mainly revolved around making light jokes about the other councillors. They were some jokes about Orik peppered in there – about the contorted reaction he would have when the elves win the Surda Games again. Having a friend like Loriel made Arya's job a little less stressful.
In the end they were down to the last few berries.
"You should really try and get rid of Blagden," Loriel said, reclining back. "Your mother used to hate that bird."
"My father wouldn't approve getting rid of him. That is why mother kept it. Also, it helped her to remember father."
"Who would have thought blessing a bird with powers makes them the most annoying creatures imaginable."
"Why, what happened?"
"You know the days when Blagden isn't in Tialdari Hall?"
"What does he do?"
"He tries to seek me out. Last week, I was looking forward to sleeping in my hammock under the stars. Then, Blagden appears."
Arya chuckled.
"He starts reciting all these poems. I tried shooting a couple of arrows to scare him off. He stood there like he knew the arrows would not hit him. In fact, he started reciting more loudly."
Arya laughed as she chewed down another berry. Then she remembered the rhyme Blagden spoke of today and her smile faltered.
"Are you feeling alright?" Loriel asked suddenly, reaching her hand out.
"Oh," Arya said, shaking her head, "it's probably nothing."
"This job…it's putting undue stress on you. Everyday I feel it when I see you."
"It's the choice I made Lori."
"I know. But there are ways to mitigate that. You need someone by your side."
"Not this again," Arya stood up. "I told you…"
"Told me what?" Loriel burst out. "That you could live without a companion? It certainly doesn't seem that way. You seem tired Arya..."
Loriel slowly stood up and walked towards her, gently grabbing her hand into hers. "I don't know what promise you made Arya. But…whatever it was, it is destroying you. You can't allow that to happen to you." Loriel then picked up her basket, bowed to her, and left the room.
In the horizon Arya watched the clouds grow, saw the occasional flash of lightning, heard the thunder grow in sound. I am standing on the precipice of this fragile peace. Your promise has long since faded. The last time you mentioned my true name was more than eight years ago…
II – Nelmora
Nelmora meditated aloft the stone balcony, gazing at the web of lights below her. The peaceful view of Teirm at night was truly breathtaking. It made it worth the tumultuous affair of being an ambassador. Rarely could one find two people in Alagaesia within a room that agreed to the same thing. Now put a hundred people and the chaos multiplied to the brink of insanity. Of course, Nelmora always kept her calm demeanor when in dialogue with the humans. However, the unfortunate side of being quiet and patient meant that she became a medium for people to speak over her. If one wanted to be heard they had to match or beat their opponent's voice. She didn't have the capacity for such boisterous acts. She was raised to be civilized.
She breathed in a gentle rhythm and felt her muscles and skin repair, while her day's thoughts filed in her mind. It was truly blissful being suspended to the heavenly elements. This, she realized, was the purest form of freedom. Too bad she could only meditate for six hours before Senthria would tell her that the human nobles wanted to have a meeting.
Only five hours left now. For the rest of the time Nelmora decided that she would gaze towards the sea. That was when she felt the wind cool her skin, the smell of brine enter her nostrils, and the ship bells ring in her ears. Even at night the dock bristled with business, either hauling or loading the ships with people and cargo. A couple of months ago she was fortunate enough to see a ship headed for Drovengard, and even more fortunate was that there was someone she recognized on that ship. They were far from friends but she loved Edenol's work on magical artifacts. Too bad that meeting the author was less enchanting than his books. He was sort of withdrawn from socializing with people and he kept mumbling something incoherent.
Nelmora sighed. She had to stop thinking about people. It was exactly this that disturbed her meditation and she didn't want that. As she refocused her sight and mind, she noticed the revolving beacon in the lighthouse burst blank. For a moment she thought she saw three bodies fall from atop the lighthouse. Her suspicions were confirmed when loud crashes burst onto the cliffs. She, however, kept on meditating. What could she do about those poor folk from up here? Hardly anyone in the citadel would care to lose their sleep over something trivial. Operating a lighthouse was a dangerous job for ungainly humans, and even more so when gusty winds blew all around. Then again, three people fell down all at once? Surely the odds of an accidental synchronized drop were extremely low. Maybe this was one of those strange events that happened every thousands of years.
Nelmora was doing it again. She was thinking about people. For five hours couldn't she just forget about all that? She made a mental note to investigate the lighthouse the next morning if her schedule allowed it. With that done she relaxed.
Storm light cast across the grey ocean – in between, massive shadows blocked out the light. Wait, that couldn't be right. The next storm light sent Nelmora's patience into a plunge. Those shadows were a fleet of frigates approaching the city docks. They were close! In an instant everything she had seen fell together. Someone had deliberately sabotaged the beacon in order to let the fleet come in. This was way beyond an accident. This was deliberate invasion.
The sudden shock threw her body back from the balcony. Good thing she had sharp reflexes, otherwise, she would have landed on her haunches.
She heard scores of men marching outside her door. Were they all guards? Surely the citadel would not have been alerted so soon to the arrival of the hostile fleet.
Nelmora jerked as a group of men kicked in her door. The hinges were sent flying apart, one managing to crack the mirror of the dressing table. These were definitely not guards.
"I demand to know what is going on," Nelmora cried "Who are you?"
The whole citadel was sent into a chaotic fury, with every door kicked down, and screams reverberating through every wall. Nelmora knew there would be more than three deaths tonight. Dead citadel guards were dragged across the hallway, their blood smearing the white marble floor.
The men that kicked in her door spread apart to allow a tall man to enter through. Nelmora couldn't make out his features. In fact she couldn't make out anyone's features, just shadows thrown by the moonlight. These intruders had deliberately put out the sconces in the hallway.
"Ambassador Nelmora," the tall man said, slowly, "you will do well to listen to my clear instructions. My name is Veras and this precious city of Nasuada's majesty is now mine. Please hold my hand, as there is a lot to be done." Even in the darkness, Nelmora could feel Veras smile.
