"My Lady, perhaps you should retire for the evening?" Jörmundur lightly asked with concern for his leader as he sat in front of the ornate desk that held important information.
Nasuada sighed and rubbed her eyes, bags showing even with her darker skin. Showing that many a night had been spent overseeing the rebel army known as the Varden.
Nasuada gave a weak smile of gratitude to her father's lifelong friend, council member, commander, and the second in command of the Varden. "Thank you Jörmundur, but honestly I am fine." The daughter of Ajihad assured her top commander.
The commander scowled at his leader and superior, not buying her word one bit. Concern was in his dark grey eyes as he looked at his friend with worry, "Nasuada..." He said softly.
Nasuada raised a brow at the informal way of addressing her, knowing that whatever he was about to say was important seeing how much Jörmundur had faith in her.
"You're exhausted." The second in command pointed out, "We all are." It was then that Nasuada noticed the bags under Jörmundur's eyes as well, his face was paler than usual and his salt and pepper hair had more grey hair than the last time she had seen him.
"We can't rest, my friend." Nasuada pointed out.
"We may be the top of command, but we aren't dragons. We're human, and humans need their rest. You need your rest." Jörmundur said with steel laced within his tone, dead set on convincing the stubborn woman to get even one nights rest at best.
"I'm fine." Nasuada repeated herself, annoyance lacing her tone as her brown eyes looked at the grey eyes of Jörmundur with a small challenge in them, as though daring the older man to say anything else.
"When was the last time you slept?" Her friend demanded.
When Nasuada didn't answer him, the soldier sighed and ran his hair through his greying locks. "You haven't slept since Captain Roran and his wife came back from Helgrind."
Nasuada winced ever so slightly. "And you blame me?"
Jörmundur shook his head, "No. I don't. I'm still in shock as much as you and the rest of the Council. But that doesn't mean you can shut yourself in your tent, barely eat or drink, you haven't slept at all! Don't deny it!" He snapped when Nasuada's mouth opened but shut when Jörmundur interrupted her. The commander sighed wearily, "I have half a mind to go to Angela to whip you up a sleeping potion and make you drink it at sword point."
Nasuada groaned. "Please don't mention that troublesome herbalist." She pleaded her closest confident. Ever since Ronan had returned without Arya, the witch had been pestering Nasuada for answers, hell she had even seen the shadow of Solembum poking around her quarters!
"Then can we please talk about Eragon?"
Nasuada looked at Jörmundur, her brown eyes wary as she would rather not have this discussion. "Why?" she asked, hoping to get out of the sensitive subject of the rouge Rider.
Jörmundur scowled at her, "You know why." He stated with crossed arms. His grey eyes soften when he looked at his leader, "You told me about the meeting… with King Orrin, and that dwarf… You know I don't judge you, you know?"
Nasuada winced. "You should, Commander Jörmundur. Because of me we lost our Rider and dragon. Because of me he probably hates us. Because of me Arya has no doubt been informed on why Eragon left and will soon tell her mother and brethren, who will then desert us. For all I know she's already told King Orik and we'll lose the dwarves as well… And we deserve it."
"You tried to save his life, Nasuada." Jörmundur protested. "While I agree banishment is something Eragon doesn't deserve, isn't it better than being stabbed in the back by those he had called friends? If anything it's Orrin and that dwarf's fault… who the hell was he anyway?" The commander asked his leader as he spat on the ground to insult both the King of Surda and the dwarven commander.
"He was formerly the leader of the Dûrgrimst Az Sweldn rak Anhûin, Vermûnd, before he was exiled by the dwarf clans when he and some of his clan tried to assassinate Arya due to her friendship with Eragon, who as you know had been declared their mortal enemy because of his Rider status the second they made eye contact…" Nasuada shook her head, her dark curls bouncing from the movement. "I should have noticed how much venom there was when Vermûnd spoke of Eragon, perhaps all could have been avoided if I had been just a bit more diligent."
"It doesn't matter now, Lady Nasuada. What happened in the past has already passed us, and no amount of praying and wistful thinking will ever change it." The wise and noble commander of the rebellion told his leader, who knew that he was right. It didn't hurt to be wistful though.
"I know, Jörmundur. But I can't help but wish, now can I?" Nasuada delicate features turned saddened, "Eragon probably hates us now." She said in a bare whisper as she mournfully thought of her former ward and soldier, now turned enemy thanks to the leaders of the rebellion, her rebellion. "And I can not blame him, we've done the worst thing imaginable to him… How I wish I had spoken up, perhaps I could have changed the minds of Orrin, I know Vermûnd's ideals would never have changed but it would have been two to one, and none of this would of happened."
Jörmundur snorted at her words despite himself. "My Lady, you know as well as I how much Orrin has changed from the lad he used to be during your childhood. Kinging has changed him, and not for the best may I add. It has made him paranoid. He feared Eragon more than anything, though he did well to hide it from the public and us." The older commander shook his head at Orrin's foolishness and how much it had cost them. "He feared Eragon because he held, and still holds mind you, the hearts of our men. He was our champion, the shining light in the dark and dreary world. He was hope itself, a symbol that freedom is possible. No matter what Orrin could do, Eragon would always be held on a higher pillar than he, a King. And it made him angry, not to mention fearful and desperate... and you know as well as I what fear and desperation does to a man."
"He still didn't need to think of killing Eragon, Jörmundur." Nasuada whispered, her dark brown eyes seemed to grow misty as she thought of all the pain she could have prevented. Did that one night, that one talk, that one argument, did it change the course of Alagaesia? Did it change destinies? Fates? For all she knew the entire war had been altered had Orrin not kept his fears to himself and not take it out on Eragon, who was such a good and noble soul.
"I do not know what made Orrin think the way he did, or why he wished to have it end in violence and murder." The soldier told his leader with a frown thinking of the rather idiotic king.
Nasuada shook her head, "This war has changed many men, Jörmundur. Orrin among them. Perhaps Orrin truly believed that Eragon would of done anything for the throne, maybe he even thought that Eragon would turn his sights on Surda and take it. Perhaps Orrin thought that Eragon truly was turning into another Galbatorix."
"Pfft, and my uncle Undset was an elf."
Despite herself Nasuada gave her friend and fellow soldier a wry grin, "Wasn't he though?"
Jörmundur threw his hands up in defeat. "Bah, you know what I mean! The second Eragon becomes a power hungry war hawk with insanity rotting in his brain is the day Saphira turns into a rabbit!"
Nasuada smiled at her friend, happy to find a kindred spirit in such dark times. "I am glad to know you didn't believe the things that drunk was sprouting off."
"And I you, My Lady."
There was silence for a couple of moments, Jörmundur suddenly finding great interest in a rather torn patch on the ceiling of the tent. His bottom lip being bit by his teeth as he stared out into space.
"Speak Jörmundur. You know that I value your council more the Elders."
"The Ra'zac." Jörmundur said bluntly.
Nasuada sighed, knowing how much her advisor wanted to speak of this matter. She remembered the day when Roran had appeared on the outskirts of Aroughs, as though out of nowhere, Katrina on his arm… And no Arya to be found.
Her blood had turned as cold as ice when she saw that the Elven Ambassador not with the cousin of Eragon Shadeslayer, fearing that the fight with the Ra'zac had ended the skillful and mysterious elven princess. Not only would she have lost a friend, but perhaps the death of her only child and heir would send Islanzadí and her elven armies back into Du Weldenvarden, leaving them to fight alone. The elves had been a major turning stone for the Varden, what with their superior magical prowess and the swiftness only the fairest of all races could hope for. They had attacked the northern parts of the Empire with a vengeance, easily taking over the unsuspecting Ceunon in a night's time with few casualties.
But when Roran had told her the (what she assumed was a heavily modified and somewhat lacking) story of how when they had arrived at the Gates of Hell, they did not meet the deadly and feared Ra'zac, eater of man's flesh.
No…
They had run into none other than Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Bjartskular. The Ra'zac already defeated and bleeding on the floor, even their parents had not survived the attack against a vengeful dragoness and her Rider.
Eragon and Saphira were alive…
And quite possibly hated her and the Varden.
Not that she could blame them of course, but that didn't settle the small spike of fear that pierced her heart. Despite the fact that both powerful fighters had once been under the same banner as herself, being betrayed by them probably left them angry at the rebels. For all she knows they were planning on destroying the Varden, and while she hoped that Eragon had even remained the same as she had known him, but this world was a cold and dreary place. Especially if you were a lone Rider caught in the middle of a bloody war that fought for the ability to usher in the next era of Riders, Nasuada highly doubted that Eragon's self exile had been anything but simple. Not to mention that even with the Varden Eragon still managed to get himself into trouble. She was just happy that Alagaesia hadn't been accidently destroyed by the younger man.
She remembered some of the few details Roran would part with, one being the death of the Ra'zac, the fate of Sloan the Betrayer, and how Eragon had changed.
While Roran didn't say outright about his cousin (And when he did it was mostly because he was forced too and he didn't look happy with it), but Nasuada had learned much from her father and being the leader of the Varden. She could tell by Roran's eyes and the way he moved.
From what she could gather that despite no longer having a home (far as she knew) Eragon hadn't waste any time in training. The fact he defeated the Ra'zac without help showed that he had grown even stronger as had Saphira who slayed their parents without help as well. The last time she had seen the Blue Rider he couldn't have done it, perhaps with help he could of slayed the Ra'zac, but alone? No, he couldn't have. But apparently that had changed during half the year he had been gone.
She at first suspected that Eragon had been hiding in Du Weldenvarden, the home of the elves. But after hearing Roran's story she highly doubted that, she would have certainly received a rather angry letter from the Queen, and she highly doubted that Eragon was somewhere in the Empire, seeing as that was the home of Galbatorix and the infamous Red Rider.
Later she wondered if he had gone to Vroengard, the ruins that had once been the citadel for the Riders of Old. But when she had gone to Jeod he had blatantly told her that he highly doubted it that, due to the fact the entire island itself was contaminated with toxic magic, not to mention the rumors of strange creatures that had been mutated by the magic itself.
"Lady Nightstalker," A great and burly Kull appeared in the entrance to the tent, his armor gleaming in the torchlight as did the giant battle axe strapped to his back. On his right shoulder was the symbol that all of Nasuada's bodyguards wore. "King Orrin of Surda is here to speak to you."
Jörmundur visibly grimaced at the Kull's announcement, he quickly got up from his chair and bowed his head to Nasuada. "I shall leave you and King Orrin to your business, My Lady."
How I wish I could leave as well, I'd much rather not deal with that oaf at the moment. Nasuada thought to herself before motioning for her right hand man to leave.
The second the sight of Jörmundur's steel armor left her sight, King Orrin strode into the tent without any announcement. Even from several strides away Nasuada could smell the pungent odor of ale and wine coming off him.
"My Lady," Orrin said, a small smirk forming on his lips as he gave the woman a mock bow, nearly falling flat on his face as his balance being disrupted by the drinking he had been at.
Nasuada fought back the weary sigh at the sight of the Surdan King, ever since Eragon had left Orrin had started to drink even more. There was barely a time that Nasuada saw him that he wasn't either drinking or already drunk. It got even worse when they conquered the southern city Aroughs, King Orrin had immediately gotten into the wine cellar as well as the ale, he took it for himself and his men and had spent many a night drinking and cracking open more casks of ale that would have even made Saphira drunk.
"King Orrin," Nasuada curtly greeted her one time childhood friend and fellow general.
"How is our most prodigious and respected leader of the Varden doing this fine morning?" Orrin asked with a slight slur to his words as he stumbled his way into the oaken chair.
"Is there something you need, King Orrin?" Nasuada asked icily, not really in the mood to deal with the drunken king at the moment.
"When are we finally going to leave this swampy city, Nasuada," Orrin demanded her, his cheeks turning bright red. "We need to continue on this war path if we even hope of trying to reach Feinster, hell we haven't even gone farther north than my own country!"
Nasuada then actually sighed, ever since they had taken over Aroughs (and Orrin had drunken near half the entire wine cellar) the king of Surda demanded that they continue to march north to the Capitol, ignoring the fact that they are Riderless and the Empire has the King and the Red Rider. His claims were that he hadn't helped foster and support the Varden only to gain barely a small southern city surrounded by a muggy swamp when there were greater cities and riches to conquest (as well as much higher quality ale).
Sometimes the daughter of the former Varden leader wondered if all the ale and wine had rotted out the once mad genius's head. It would certainly explain the suicidal warpath he wanted to waste men on.
"Like I've said many times, King Orrin," Nasuada said through gritted teeth, "And it's Lady Nasuada to you." She told the man, king or not she would not allow Orrin to belittle her, especially since she technically had more power than him due to her being the leader of the Varden. "Leaving Aroughs would be suicidal until further notice, we've lost morale and men due to Eragon's leaving and not to mention there is another Rider flying around who could possibly end us without our magicians. We will not leave until we have thought of a plan to conquer Feinster."
Orrin scowled at what he thought was an insult when Nasuada told him to call her Lady, leader or not he would not allow her to undermine his authority! When she mentioned Eragon and his leaving his face turned a mixture of beet red and pale white, making his face look like lumpy porridge.
"It doesn't matter!" Orrin spluttered out, "Rider or not, I will not stand idly while the time to strike the Empire is at hand!... Your father would have agreed with me."
Nasuada looked as though Orrin had slapped her, she stood up and slammed her palms against the aged wood, her brown eyes lit in an inferno of rage. "Don't you dare say what my father would have or not have agreed on, Orrin." Nasuada all but growled at the King. "My father would have agreed with me, what would be the point if we arrived at the Capitol with barely a platoon of soldiers? Your greed and arrogance know no bounds. Not to mention your lack of care to our men, our people."
Orrin stood up as well, he was a couple inches taller than her but to any onlooker Nasuada was definitely the more intimidating figure due to her eyes and barely held anger as she tried not to strike the drunken man in front of her.
"I do take care of my people, the Surdan people," Orrin all but spat out, flecks of spittle nearly hitting Nasuada's face while she fought back the urge to scrunch her nose at the heavy smell of old sweat and alcohol.
"And what of the Varden, my people?" Nasuada demanded as she held up one hand and put it in front of Orrin's face, she didn't slap or strike him she instead pulled down the sleeves of her dress to reveal that her dark forearms were wrapped with bandages. "I care for all of us, from the Varden to the Surdans to the dwarf Clans. I did this for them." She pointed at her bandages, which concealed the thick scars she had earned from the Trial of Long Knives, a ceremony that required her to cut her arms over and over with someone who wished to be the leader of the Varden. She had won, and the scars proved that she wasn't afraid to earn scars or pain if it meant to help the Varden. And the people knew that.
Which was something that made Orrin even more weary of his former childhood friend than ever.
What happened to him? Nasuada wondered sadly. When did the once eager mind of an inventor turn into a cesspool of alcohol and fear, not to mention desperation?... Kinging has done him no justice in the slightest, but sometimes that's what happens to someone used to power and suddenly finding themselves with people on equal if not higher ground. Jealousy and arrogance are a terrible thing when mixed together.
"If you will excuse me, Lady Nasuada," Orrin said stiffly as he turned on his heels and strode out of the tent, Nasuada resisted the urge to snort when Orrin's foot got caught in the tent flap and was only saved from falling into the mud by one of her Kull guards.
Orrin shoved the Kull's arm away from him, his features curling in distaste. As the king walked away Nasuada could hear the heated grumbles of the Kull talking to one another in their native tongue, no doubt insulting the King of Surda.
"It's about time that idiot left, his nosy and higher than thou attitude was getting rather annoying."
Nasuada froze as she heard the familiar voice, despite the fact she knew that sooner or later the speaker would visit, it still gave her chills on how easily she could sneak into her tent even with her armed guards.
"Elva, it is good to see you again." Nasuada greeted the cursed child as she walked away from the shadows of the tent and sat on the chair both Jörmundur and Orrin had just sat in. Due to her having the body of a four year old, Elva's legs dangled in the air a couple inches from the ground. Despite that Nasuada was still weary of the child, whose piercing violet eyes seemed to stare at her without blinking.
"Do you have any food? I'm starving?" Elva declared in the voice only an adult could have, it still unnerved Nasuada that Elva was technically only a year or so old, but due to Eragon's magic her body had started to age rapidly until she looked to be four.
Nasuada's maidservant, who had been standing in the corner, immediately went out of the tent before returning with a plate of chicken legs and mashed potatoes. Both the women were used to Elva's hunger (perhaps a side effect from Eragon's spell that made her grow faster and thus needing more energy to function, not to mention her gift, or curse as some people thought it is, was rather consuming).
Elva immediately started to devour the meat, for awhile there was only the sound of Elva eating. When she had stripped the bone of all meat and the last bit of mashed potatoes was consumed she finally spoke, "Orrin was about to strike you," She said matter of factly. "I made sure he didn't."
Nasuada blinked, she realized that she had no doubt offended Orrin (even though he himself was the reason for the aggravation), but she didn't think he would have done anything violent. Apparently she had misjudged him.
"Thank you," she told the cursed child. Nasuada owed Elva, if not for her she would of failed the Trial of Long Knives, and would thus be replaced by the leader of the only Wandering Tribe that sought to ally themselves with the rebellion. The others had either refused or had backed away and broken all ties.
She remembered when she had asked Fadawar after she had beaten him in the Trials. The chief of the Inapashunna Tribe had merely said one thing, something that troubled her greatly.
"The Tribes have been looked upon with distaste by both people of the Empire and Surda for too long. We've been stuck in the neutral lands between your people and your war. But no longer, now there are rumors of a champion of not one Tribe but all the Tribes. A champion who will win back the glory our people need and rightly deserve."
Despite further questioning that was all Fadawar said, claiming that since he and the Inapashunna Tribe had allied themselves with the Varden before the mysterious 'champion' had appeared, they decided to remain with the Varden. The only Tribe to do so.
The fact alone that the Tribes were actually working together was nothing short of a miracle. Nasuada may not remember much of her childhood growing up in a Tribe with her father, but she still remembered the bitter rivalries of certain Tribes, either because of apparent theft or someone trying to expand borders. In the Hadarac Desert, you had to do whatever you needed to do to survive, there is no such thing as a miracle.
Apparently there was someone, maybe a warrior from one of the many Tribes, who had decided to have their Tribe and others band together. Nasuada was a great strategist and leader, it came with the position, and she knew how vulnerable the Tribes were alone. Generations of endless bloodshed had weakened the Tribes of the Hadarac Desert. Leaving them smaller numbers and with the fact that even with their ancestral memory of the dunes and its dangers, it still posed a threat to even them, the knowers of the desert and its unpredictable ways.
It was obvious to the former Tribeswoman that whoever this champion was, he was preparing for war.
But the real question was, what side will he choose?
Angela was sitting on her stool besides her cauldron that was bubbling a rather odd golden liquid, the bubbles forming on the top of the liquid and slowly rising before popping.
The mysterious witch was currently knitting what appeared to be socks that only a Kull could hope to wear, and even then by a small margin as it looked like it could have fit Saphira half a year ago or so. Angela hummed to herself at some sort of peppy tone going on in her head, her needles making the normal click clack as though following the beat going through the witch's mind.
A dark shadow appeared and entered the tent, which had enough herbs and other flora that reminded her of her herbalist shop back in Tierm. Solembum stalked towards his companion, who merely continued to hum.
When she saw Solembum she smiled, "Oh there you are! And here I was thinking you'd run off to go find yourself a new companion."
If Solembum's werecat form had eyebrows he most likely would of knitted them together in annoyance. "I was only gone for an hour or so."
"Mmmhm, I bet that was what you told your mother, right before you ran off with that pretty young she-cat." Angela smirked at Solembum, who had the decency to flatten his ears in embarrassment and annoyance.
"That was a long time ago," The werecat murmured before looking at his rather eccentric friend. "And she wasn't that young!" Solembum couldn't help but defend himself, giving himself a rather large lick to some messy fur on his chest. "Barely a summer or so younger than myself."
Angela chortled, "Oh calm down, Solembum. You may choke on a hairball." She teased the large cat, whom merely glared at her while he sat down near the hearth and looked at the potion. The glowing liquid made his eyes (which he made sure had been in the shadows whenever he left the privacy of the tent) look almost the color of burning gold.
Silence crept into the tent, the only sound was the crackling fire, the bubbling potion, and the click clack of Angela's knitting needles. Finally the rather odd witch said, "So, what did Orrin talk to Nasuada about? Please tell me it doesn't involve anything with alcohol. Hangover potions are rather annoying to make. Where in the world am I supposed to find tansy in this swamp?" She fumed, as many a morning Orrin had strode into her new home and demanded a potion for headaches. One day Angela would just give him a love potion and claimed it was for a hangover. That would be rather funny to see in her opinion.
"Nothing interesting, just the same thing all male rulers want. More money, more power, more land. Honestly it get's rather dull after a couple decades. At least during the Riders there was some actual action, but no. Orrin just complains and moans to Nasuada, who refuses saying she won't risk her men just for Orrin's greed. I think at one point she looked ready to slap him."
Angela laughed, "I knew I liked that girl!" she crowed before she waved for Solembum to continue.
"If you want to hear, please stop interrupting me." Solembum said crossly.
"Oh get your tail out of a twist, Solembum." Angela said with a wide grin, "How many years have we known each other?"
"Way too many in my taste, you're rather…. Eccentric in my opinion." The werecat said honestly while Angela didn't seem to be annoyed or angry at his words. She merely hummed in agreement.
"Any way. Orrin got mad and lost his temper, Nasuada got mad but held hers in. Thank the Maker that she became the leader of the Varden and not Orrin. And after he left Elva appeared and they talked, apparently Orrin was going to hit Nasuada but she prevented it. I left after that."
"Elva has always been a rather interesting child, oh how I wish to see her future. Imagine all the possibilities that little girl has," Angela said, wistfully glancing at the pouch that held the knucklebones of a dragon that she used to tell the future, the actual future, not the ones fake witches foretold for a little coin.
"Haven't you seen enough of people's futures? First Selena, that blind man, and Eragon. Three's a crowd if you ask me."
"Hmm, I do wonder what happened to our favorite Rider. Perhaps he took my advice and became a hermit to discover any differences between toads and frogs, where there are none. Ooh, maybe we can become fellow scholars together!" Angela mused happily.
"I think Eragon has more important things to than reveal to the general public that toads do not exist and are in fact frogs." Solembum said with a deadpan.
"Hmm, I guess your right my dear friend… I wonder what he's been doing since we last met? Knowing him and the Rider's curse of always getting into trouble, I'd say he's had quite the year." Angela said as she thought of the Rider, "…. Not to mention what the bones say." She said as she remembered when Eragon's disappearance had spread through the camp like wildfire, she had immediately consulted with the bones.
The results were interesting to say the least.
"Not to mention you as well, Solembum." Angela said as the two remembered how after a couple months or so after Eragon left something changed.
The werecat looked up and his eye color was revealed to the witch. Once a brilliant blue, crimson red and then powerful gold, his eyes would always change according to a new life being made, and a new destiny to be forged by fate itself.
Solembum's bright eyes seemed to glow even more than his previous colors, the burning color of endless white.
Ancient Language and/or other events before the original Cycle
Vroengard – The ancestral home of the Riders, located in the northwestern ocean of Alagaesia. Abandoned during the Fall due to the air becoming toxic due to the Rider Thuviel's final stand against the Forsworn and Galbatorix.
Since today is my birthday I decided I'd treat you guys and gals to another chapter. I know that I didn't really feature Eragon or Ronan in it, but one of my reviewers suggested that I do another P.O.V. of Nasuada and all the stuff she has to deal with (Aka Orrin). Never really liked Orrin in the books, not to mention even in canon he became a drunk! Hope you liked it, it's actually pretty fun writing in Nasuada's point of view, mostly because I always liked her character hence why there is no bashing of her in this story. Orrin on the other hand? It's just too fun to pass up. Props to whoever got the deal with Solembum's eyes. Leave a review and tell me what you think, or a suggestion I don't really care I just love reading them because it gives me such great inspiration to continue writing.