A/N: As a few of you may know I posted a piece of shit Memory Chapter and it failed… horribly. So I grabbed it out of the computer, stomped on it, gave it to my dog, and then blew it up with five tons of C4. I don't have anger problems… But don't worry, this chapter will
Disclaimer: Isn't it obvious that I don't? I mean come on. If I owned the IC I would have riots outside of my house 24/7, my sister (that I don't have) would be totally insane (that's Angela by the way) and FanFiction would be making fun of me repeatedly. Are we clear?
A-R-Y-A
She kept her gaze straight ahead and her held high, ignoring the looks she was receiving. Even though every time she received a look of disgust, Eragon would glare right back at them, and they would shirk away, it still unnerved her. Arya was surprised by the amount of power Eragon appeared to hold, but it was as plain as day. She supposed it was because of him slaying the Shade Ralatov and saving Varnalond. Arya did notice that the closer they got to the palace, the tenser Eragon became.
Eragon, what is the matter? Why are you so tense? Arya asked mentally.
She could feel Eragon's hesitation. The last time I was in Varnalond was when I used what I call the 'Hate Spell', but I didn't talk to the council. The last time before that was when I… He stopped suddenly, and she knew why. It was when he finally came out of seclusion from the wild.
It is alright Eragon, your mother and sister told me everything. Arya said to him reassuringly. She could see the moisture forming in his eyes, and she nearly shed a few tears herself.
You'll need to remind me to thank them for it, for I know I couldn't have told you. And I thank you as well. Eragon said, looking straight at her.
Arya smiled at him, you do not need to thank me at all. I would do anything for you.
Eragon chuckled as they were walking. I know Arya, I know. But shouldn't it be me who says it you? I've been telling you the same thing for the past eighty-nine years.
She leaned against his left side and stroked his arm comfortingly. In all of the insane situations you've been in, I often thought I was the more mature one.
Eragon snorted, that's because you are. And all too soon, they reached the entrance to the magnificent palace. Its beauty was even more astonishing close up. It had the mixture of dwarves' stone, elvin trees, Urgal huts, and human wood. All the different races were imbued within the palace, and it made it even more beautiful and exotic. When they were right before the gates to the mini-palace, they swung open of their own accord, and Eldrian stopped and turned around.
"I trust that you remember your way to the council room?" Eldrian asked.
"Sadly so," was Eragon's response. He must really hate the council, she thought. And so they walked on, but slower this time. Remembering Selena and Angela, she turned her head to find them, only to see them gone.
"Where did they go?" Arya asked Eragon worriedly, not bothering to speak in his mind as they were alone.
"Wherever they went, which is to say, I have no idea." He replied with a smirk. And I suggest we speak with out minds; the council may overhear us and they will be glad to use anything they can get against us.
Arya gave him a look of confusion, but then mentally agreed with his plan. Eragon took them down a breathtaking corridor and all along the walls were paintings and fairths of various people. One of them made her stop in her tracks.
It was a painting of a little elf girl with raven hair and emerald eyes. By the looks of it, the little elf looked like she was only three years old. It showed total innocence in the little girl's eyes, and you could tell she was staring at whoever was painting the picture.
She let go of Eragon's arm and slowly walked over to the painting. It was painted skillfully and made by a master painter. "Is that me?" Arya asked, but it was a barely a whisper in the wind.
She heard Eragon walk up behind her and lay a hand on her left shoulder. "Yes," she heard him say.
"Who painted this? It's outstanding work." She complimented the mysterious painter.
"Thank for you compliment; it was not an easy painting." She heard him say. Immediately she whirled around and looked into his chocolate orbs.
"You painted this?" Arya asked incredulously.
Eragon face turned crestfallen, "Do you not like it?"
"No! No, I love it! I just didn't know you painted, that's all." She said as she turned to look at the painting once again. It captured her perfectly, and she was amazed at how well he did. Then a question ran through her mind, "Why was it so difficult to paint it?"
Eragon turned solemn abruptly, and then said, "I will tell you that after we meet with the council, although why we need to meet with them is beyond me." Arya nodded her head and grabbed hold of Eragon's arm again, and he led them through the palace.
E-R-A-G-O-N
The council; oh how he hated the council. They were always trying to manipulate him, trying to get him to take power over all the half-breeds so he could be their puppet. They had tried to do the same with his father Brom before he passed. Eragon wondered why the heck Brom created them anyway, but stopped himself. Several times over the last hundred years he had questioned many of the things his father had done, but he had tried to stop, as it would only create even more anger towards him.
But perhaps if she were here, she could help him. She always could, they had gone through many a battle together, and were always by each others side. Why did she have to leave him alone in the world?
An angry cry nearly escaped his lips, before he held it back. He silently cursed himself. Over the past hundred years he had begun to control his thoughts, so that he didn't think of her. He had nearly perfected the art of stopping his thoughts from wondering to her. But lately, he had been losing control ever since he had left Arya in Farthen Dur. He was a coward for not telling her who he really was, what he really was. In the eyes of Alagaesia, he was an abomination upon the world.
But to the people of Varnalond, he was a hero. To his family, he was loved. And to the elf who was holding on to his arm, he was loved by. Of course Eragon had never acted upon his feelings, as it would bring up too many images of her. Every time he tried, he was afraid of rejection and the visions that soon encompassed his mind. And now, images of her beauty, cunning, and humor came through his mind. But he desperately tried to drive them all away.
However, all too soon they were at the doors of the council. The council itself held ten creatures. A Human-elf, human-dwarf, human-Urgal, dwarf-elf, and dwarf-human. Then there were their advisors but Eragon could hardly think of them that way. They seemed more like a pesky fly who wouldn't stop annoying people until the day they died. So he wasn't surprised to hear shouting when they arrived outside the door.
Drawing in a breath, he looked at his little one. The first time Eragon had said it was an accident, as he was brooding over Saphira at the time and she always called him little one. But the name stuck on her, and he continued to use it.
A reassuring smile crossed her face, and it made him smile too. And with a slight smile on his face, Eragon opened the doors and walked into the council room. They had obviously been arguing just two seconds before, but when Eragon walked into the room with a foreign elf hanging onto his arm as if she never wanted to let it go, they went silent. All of them immediately sat down and stared at Eragon, whom they expected to appear nervous and look away bashfully like the last time, over a hundred years previous. But losing her had strengthened his resolve; no longer would he not returns the stares of these petty people, he would stare right back at them.
And stare he did. They didn't expect that, and when they saw the fire within his eyes, they looked away. "What do you want?" He asked brusquely.
Several of them seemed stunned as if they were expecting him to be polite, and he knew they were knew members of the council.
One of the persons, an ordinary human-dwarf, stood up. Eragon didn't know his name, nor did he care. But this dwarf didn't inherit the shortness from the dwarves, rather the stockiness, as he was heavily muscled and almost six feet tall.
"Lord Eragon, we wanted to –"
But Eragon interrupted him, "I am not you 'lord', I am nobody's lord."
The half-dwarf bowed, "yes, well, sorry. On behalf of the council, we wanted to ask you if you would like to claim leadership over the half-breeds. We know your father did not accept it, but we know you will uphold your duty." Duty?! How dare them! They knew nothing of his life, of what he had gone through.
All of the other creatures in the room leaned forward, but not Eragon and Arya. Arya seemed surprised at their question, as she knew he had no desire for power. In fact, he hated power, as most just totally abused it into non-being.
The new-councils, the people on the council in the past century, were smiling, as if they knew he wouldn't say no.
"No," Eragon said darkly.
All of the new-councils did a double take, and then blinked confusedly. "But why not…Shadeslayer?" A human-elf hybrid asked strangely, as if he was totally confused as to why he wasn't taking the position.
Let go of my arm, I need to talk to the council again. He asked Arya politely. She let go of his arm, albeit reluctantly.
Eragon began to walk towards the table where the ten creatures were. "Why will I not accept this position you ask?" Many of them nodded, curious to find out why. "It is simple, I do not want it. And who could blame me? I would be tied down to rule, not being able to make my own decisions in life. I would be imprisoned to Varnalond forever, unable to roam the land freely, unable to fly on my –". He caught himself at the last moment, and only a few noticed his fumble, mainly Arya. "Unable to protect those who I love, unable to have a family, unable to get my revenge." He ended darkly. Most of the old-councils knew the story, and didn't bother to question him. But he could see the pathetic questions in the new-councils minds. They were going to try and convince him to be the leader.
His blood began to boil at their incessant tries to make him rule. He would never disgrace her that way. She had compared ruling to her wings being chained to the ground, never able to fly again. Eragon would not. He would not. He would not!
"NO!" He shouted towards the pathetic beings. "NEVER!" And he stormed out of the chamber and began to walk as fast as possible towards his own room, at the tallest point on the palace. And then he realized; he had never been there without her before, never slept there without her with him. But he kept on walking anyway. He passed maids and servants, who instantly backed out of his way once they learned that the legendary Eragon was in front of them. Legendary, he thought with disgust. I couldn't even protect my own dragon! I am not legendary, I am not heroic, I am a coward.
He smashed open the door to his room and was astounded by how fast he got up there. But one of the things he was grateful for was that absolutely nothing had changed. There was still the fairth of baby Arya two days after she was born. There was the fairth of her when she just hatched. There was one of him and his twin sister Angela when they were babies. Angela was sucking her thumb while Eragon was chewing on a quill and looking at his mother and father. The sight made Eragon smile, and remember his childhood.
But all of those thoughts were quickly gone when he remembered her death, her suffering. Somehow he managed to walk over to the bed, and he tried to lay on it. And he failed miserably. Instead he lay in a sitting position with his knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting on them. But he refused to let any tears be shed. He had promised her that he would move on and find someone to love. And he had, but she hadn't foreseen that every time he looked at her that his heart was being ripped into a thousand pieces.
He may have been there for minutes, hours, even days, and he wouldn't have noticed any time passing by. Eragon hadn't been in what he called a Dragon-Trance for over fifty years. It was mainly where he was so absorbed in his grief that it blocked himself out from all others in the world.
So he didn't feel when strong, cool arms wrapped around his body and shielded him from the rest of the world with her arms.
A-R-Y-A
No! It was her fault, although she had no idea why she was blaming her self. Arya hadn't really done anything wrong. But as Arya ran through the palace chasing after Eragon's scent, which she found totally intoxicating, she began to worry. He had almost heard him say 'my dragon'. But then he stopped himself, only to become angrier and angrier. Quickly asking a maid were Eragon went, she had said that 'Lord Eragon' had run past them and was presumably heading up to his tower.
After receiving directions and a map, which was very helpful, she began to run again. Right, right, left, down the corridor, and up the spiral staircase, and there she was. She saw the engraved dragons on the door, and how they circled around each other. Slowly walking over to the door, she gently pushed it open and peered inside. Eragon was sitting against the bed with his knees up to his chest and his head resting on them.
Arya walked inside and quietly closed the door behind her. "Eragon?" She called out. He didn't even stir. "Eragon!" She cried with more alarm this time and she dashed over to him.
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled his face to look at hers. She put her hand over his heart and felt for a pulse. There it was, beating regularly. Arya looked into his eyes, and they were shut, but not dead. "Eragon!" She shouted. And before she even knew what was happening, she crashed her lips onto his. Arya, having known Eragon most of her life, had not had any romantic interest in anyone besides Eragon, and therefore she hadn't kissed anyone besides her parents. And that was only on the cheek.
When she pulled back, Eragon's eyes were half-open, but they were hardly aware of anything that was going on. "Dammit Eragon, wake up!" She shouted towards him with a tear falling down her face. And she kissed him again, and again. And soon enough she felt his eyes flutter open and he took an intake of breath. But it didn't go to well as Arya's mouth was covering his. She pulled back and looked into Eragon's eyes. They showed tiredness and exhaustion. But he just woke up an hour ago, why was he so tired?
"Hey…little one." He whispered.
She smiled towards him and kissed him once again, and her heart skipped two-beats at Eragon kissed her back. Before she knew it, Arya hands were entangled in his soft hair, and one of his hands was holding her neck. "Eragon…"She said through kisses. "What…just happened?"
Much to her dismay he pulled back and looked her dead in the eyes. Arya gasped; his eyes were no longer filled with revenge, they had life in them once again, if only partially.
"I was in a Dragon-Trance. I was just so…lonely, and I couldn't help it. I'm sorry for worrying you." Eragon explained. Didn't he know by know that he didn't have to apologize.
So in response, she leaned in until there foreheads were touching. Arya couldn't see anything very well, as her eyelids were half-open.
"I love you Eragon, now and forever." She whispered.
"And I love you Arya, always." He whispered.
And with a goofy grin on her face, she pressed her lips upon his, and it was an amazing night.
A/N: Just to let you know, yes they did have sex. No I am NOT going to write it for reason. One: I don't know how. Well, I can try, but I don't even want to write it. Thanks for reading!
I also have question for you guys. Should Arya get pregnant?