A/N: I'm back! Again! I think after this, I might update more often. A very slim might, though, don't expect daily chapters. Anyhoo, on with disses and claimers and halfies, oh my!

Once again, a hundred thousand thank-yous to all who have reviewed (which is about four people) and Restrained Freedom especially. You are all amazing, my friends!

DISCLAIMERS: No, my name is not Christopher. I'm a woman. My last name is not Paolini, so therefor I do not own the following: Murtagh, Thorn, Eragon S., Saphira, Nasuada, Glaedr (Eldunarí), Umaroth, Arya, Firnen, King Orik, Roran, Katrina, Nar Garzvog,

CLAIMERS: I, FalconFate, own the following characters: Raven, Shadefire, Maelstrom, Storm, Glaedr (younger one), Mi'kru, Cynalia, Aiedail, Rose, Telmar, Zamira, Credonvosk, Trezvog, Zanü, Kilsgar, Razmir,

HALFIES: I, FalconFate, don't really own the following, I'm just making assumptions. This is fanfiction, after all: Ismira, Eragon I, Biddy,

On with the show!

Secrets of Life

Chapter Nine

Political Pentagons II

As they neared Ilirea, Nasuada and Glaedr found them again, informing them that they would meet the new ruler before they went on to Du Edoc'sil Ristvarden Shur'tugal. Saphira had already flown on with the news of their arrival, and Raven had notified Maelstrom and Storm of their destination.
However, the gray-eyed woman had noticed a slight coldness towards herself from the golden Rider. Nasuada's dark eyes always flashed when she spoke to Murtagh, and Glaedr looked uncomfortable when his Rider was alone with Raven. Which in itself was a rarity.

Nasuada had been kind enough to the wolves, exchanging polite pleasantries with them, and talking to them whenever she had a chance. The wolves, in turn, were glad to share the tales, myths and legends of the wolf-packs in the north. Though, whenever they returned from hunting, Maelstrom stayed with Raven for the next hour, discussing the matters they privately shared (with Shadefire).

They were in no great rush, and Raven knew that Murtagh and Thorn were most likely hesitating, always hanging in the back with the black Rider and dragon. Cynalia and Mi'kru had already gone back to Du Edoc'sil, and occasionally they would see other dragons soaring through the sky; large dark blues, small pale greens, gleaming gold and silver, fiery reds and oranges, calm ambers and browns, but there wasn't a single black dragon. Nor was there any who had quite the shade of blood-red as Thorn, whilst whites were few and far between.

Mid-morning of the fourth day, they suddenly caught sight of the palace. It was larger than Murtagh and Thorn had shown them with memories, dragons of all sizes and colors were winging around and draping over battlements, and flags fluttered gaily in the wind, all bearing the same crest of a white dragon holding a red rose and a blue sword.

As they glided closer, several dragons looked up. Many roared a greeting, more looked at each other excitedly, and several snorted and stood up. Yet there were plenty who snarled and looked like they would happily tear Thorn and his Rider apart. Raven wondered if these were dragons that carried dwarves. Her answer was a definite yes from Shadefire.

They landed on the plain that lay before the gates, and Glaedr roared what could only have been a command, as not a moment later four large dragons rose over the battlements; the first was the largest they had seen in Alagaësia–save Saphira–and dark green. The second was a dusky bronze, and seemed to almost be as well-muscled as Bid'daum—which was saying something. The third was a paler green, and, though obviously older then the bronze, was somehow smaller, and lighter on swift wings. The last was a dark, dark blue, and for a moment, appeared almost black. The four met them swiftly, and landed a mere thirty feet away.

From a closer look, it was seen that the bronze dragon and the blue were female, and the two greens were both male. The riders who dismounted surprised even Murtagh. The rider of the darker green was none other than Arya, and her companion was obviously the green egg. The bronze dragon carried an Urgal, and a Kull at that. The third was a human, a woman with short, dark brown hair. The last was a dwarf, long red beard tucked into his belt, upon which the crest of Farthen Dûr was imprinted.

The dwarf had his battle-ax readied, and Shadefire crouched low, teeth barely showing, and a low, dangerous rumble sounding near-imperceptibly in her throat. The dwarf glared back at her, before switching a hostile gaze towards the red pair.

Nasuada gave the dwarf a sharp look, before starting introductions. "Murtagh, Raven, Thorn and Shadefire, these are the main leaders of Shur'tugal for their races. Arya, queen of the elves, and her dragon, Fírnen. Nar Glatzeil, and his companion, Züra. Nya, and Cornad. And, of course, Razmir and Süria. If you would welcome our guests, Murtagh the red rider and Thorn; and Raven and Shadefire." The dragons nodded slowly, whilst Arya, Nar Glatzeil and Nya dipped their heads to the other four. Razmir, however, still glared disdainfully at Murtagh, and Raven started to get an itchy feeling: the kind one gets when someone you care about is going to be in danger quite soon.

Then the dwarf spoke.

"If I may, Nasuada, our people still hold–"

"And how is this of consequence?" The dwarf stared at her, shock and outrage reflecting upon his face. Raven stared levelly back, chin high, and asked again, "How?" She could feel the red rider giving her urgent looks, and trying to contact her through mental speech, but she blocked him out, her only focus on the dwarf who spoke ill of her friend. And maybe more than that...

Razmir drew himself up slightly, addressing her with the authority he never had; "Nearing twenty and five years ago, he killed our king, at the battle of the Burning Plains. Do not speak to me of consequence, when it should rightfully go to him!"

She stood there, one eyebrow raised, amused. "Do you know his reasons for doing so?" The other stared at her, openmouthed. She could feel Murtagh pressing at her insistently, and she gave him a swift reassuring message. He drew back at this. Then Arya spoke, her voice crisp and clear.

"Are you saying that he had another reason to kill Hrothgar, other than vengeance?"

"Whoever said the word vengeance in the first?" This time it was Nasuada who spoke. Raven nodded to the two, sharing a smile with Nasuada, that she didn't return.

Razmir looked flustered now. His dragon tilted her dark blue head, speaking. Perhaps we should leave this to those who would understand.

Shadefire growled slightly and shifted uncomfortably. Raven laid a hand on her foreleg reassuringly. Razmir glared for a moment more, then mounted back up, Süria's azure wings punishing the air beneath them. The blue dragoness gave them an apologetic look, and took off.

Raven shook her head slowly. Perhaps we should not have come for another twenty years, she told Shadefire.

Don't be silly, she replied. Far better we return now, then spend another twenty years in self-induced exile. The dwarves would still hold a grudge, even if we waited a thousand years to come, and I do not think I could have stood for our young to grow alone.

Raven pondered this, flipping the end of her long black braid to and fro. Maybe you're right. At any rate, I think we should keep a low profile in the city while we're here. Never know when it might be good to pop up somewhere where no one knows us.

Hmm. I must say I agree.

A/N: Sorry it's short, I have a lot of stuff on my plate. At any rate, I'm starting on another story, a crossover 'tween Wings of Fire and IC. Don't know what it's called yet, so stay tuned!

Reviews- Appreciated. Con-crit- Appreciated. Flames- Well, it is winter. So, thank you.

Falcon