Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle. :'(
The rain makes me nervous, especially after Typhoon Haiyan.
Sorry for being unable to update frequently with lengthy chapters, I think I injured my hand. It hurts when I type...
Chapter 7: The Stone Changes
Murtagh led the march to the northern gate of Tronjheim, Thorn lumbering sleepily behind him. Silence passed as they waited in the tunnels right outside the gates. Murtagh felt uncomfortable. He missed riding with his horse too, but flying from the Beor Mountains to the edge of Du Weldenvarden would be faster.
Eragon walked up to him as they waited, fastening his cloak over his clothing quickly. "How long will we be waiting for Orik?" he asked.
"No idea," Murtagh muttered. He drew his cloak around him, feeling cold. "I hope he arrives soon."
As if on cue, the dwarf came into view, bringing a heavy pack with him and wearing his armor, as always. "We'll be stopping at Tarnag, north of here," he said, setting down a big bundle which he was carrying. "We would then fly along Az Ragni to Hedarth."
"Oh! I know that place," Arya said, face brightening. "It's a trading outpost for dwarves and elves. I've been there before."
Orik nodded. "We would have taken rafts, but traveling on dragonback would be faster. We won't be able to do that once we reach Du Weldenvarden, though, so the elves will most likely be providing steeds."
He began to distribute the repaired armor pieces to the Riders with a smile. No sign existed of the damages caused by the battle, and Eragon's mail was even fixed so well that there was no sign of the tear that was caused by Durza's blade. Murtagh smiled as he examined his own set. "These are perfectly made," he said with a smile as he laced on his greaves and bracers.
Orik smiled. "We also repaired the dragon armor but we won't be able to bring any of those with us so the Varden will guard it until we return."
After conveying their thanks, Orik handed helms to Roran, Arya, Nasuada then Katrina. Murtagh glanced at Eragon before reaching for his own. Orik shook his head, clutching the twins' helms. "Oh, not so fast, my young friends. You must make a choice first."
Murtagh blinked. He remembered Melikir talking about two Riders for the Varden, two for the dwarves and another two for the elves. "What choice his that?" he asked quietly.
Orik held out the helmets to them, showing the alteration on the brow. Etched upon the steel were the hammer and stars – the symbol of the Ingeitum, the clan that King Hrothgar and Orik belonged to. "King Hrothgar wishes for me to present these to you, as symbols of his friendship with the new generation of Riders. He wishes to adopt you both as members of Durgrimst Ingeitum, as a member of his own family."
Murtagh stared at Eragon. He really means it, I think.
Aye. Does this mean that we'd be subjected to his rule, though? Eragon frowned. We're not loyal to the Varden in the way that Nasuada and Roran are though, but if we were, we would be incapacitated.
Murtagh grinned. We would have been unable to do a thing without breaking an oath or another, he agreed.
Well, you don't have to put them on, Thorn grunted.
Saphira gave him an icy stare. And risk angering Hrothgar? Wise move.
Murtagh tapped on his nose. It could be simply a gift –a sign of otho. It might not be a trap, simply a way of thanking us for offering to repair Isidar Mithrim and maintain the balance of the races.
"How often was this done?" Eragon asked Orik.
"Never for a human," Orik told him. "Hrothgar had to argue with clan leaders and Ingeitum families for an entire day and night for you tobe accepted. You will have all rights of a clan member if you do accept the offer – attend councils, voice out on anny issue. If you wish to, you can also be buried with our dead," he finished softly.
There could be no greater honor, Eragon mused.
The brothers moved forward and took their helms from Orik, pressing it swiftly upon their heads. "We are privileged to join Durgrimst Ingeitum," Murtagh said with asmile.
Orik smiled and handed stones to the brother, asking them to prick their wrists and let a few drops of blood wet their own Knurlnein – Heart of Stone – before reciting an oath.
"The other clans might moan about this business but you acted with integrity and they must respect that," Orik muttered as they finished. He smiled. "So, as we're of the same clan now and you're my foster brothers, King Hrothgar would have presented the helm and called for a great ceremony followed by feasting but the events wish for other things to happen. We will celebrate properly once you return to Farthen Dur. Feasting and dancing and… papers to sign."
"We will be looking forward to that," Eragon said with a sagely nod.
Orik sat against a pillar and crossed his arms. Silence reigned for a few minutes until he glared at Tronjheim. "Barzul knurlar! Where is your brother, Arya? He said he would be right here!"
"You know that elves' concept of time is only late and much later," grunted Arya.
"But you're an elf too!" Roran told her.
"Not a regular elf, my friend."
"Have you dealt with them much?" Katrina asked Orik. She put an arm around Luneria's neck idly.
"Eta. It has always been only with Faolin, and even that was not frequent since he travelled a lot. I've learned only one thing in seven decates. Never rush an elf." Orik shrugged. "They will break, but never bend. They're like files that you're trying to hammer, that way."
Murtagh frowned. "Aren't dwarves the same?"
"Stone shifts if you give it enough time." Orik grinned. "Elves rarely change. It's why I felt reluctant to go."
Arya smiled, a faraway look in her eyes. "My brother always said that being unchanging might be the cause for the elves' downfall. It's why the elves who make a difference are always Riders, or end up as one."
"Just like you, huh?" Murtagh grunted.
"Not sure about making a difference, but I'm not exactly like other elves, as you may have noticed."
"Does this mean that we'll get to meet Queen Islanzadi, see Ellesmera and who knows what else?" Eragon asked eagerly. "Was a dwarf ever invited into Du Weldenvaden?"
"A change of scenery is insignificant," Orik complained. "So many other important things must be done in Tronjheim and other cities, yet I must scamper across Alagaesia, exchange pleasantries and grow fat while I watch you get tutored – and that could take years!"
"Years? Still, if that's what we need in order to handle Shades and the Forsworn, there's no other way," Murtagh mused.
Don't worry about that. I don't think that Melikir will let us be away for more than a few months at most. I mean, I think we'll be needed soon.
"There they are!" Orik said happily.
Melikir strode towards them, his black cloak flowing from his back like a blanket of the night. Jormundur, Brom and Faolin walked behind him. The elf lord was bringing a traveling pack, dressed in his usual black clothing and armed with his sword. His usual absent-minded grin was gone, replaced by a mask of calm.
"Oh, you accepted," Melikir said. He smiled at Faolin grimly. "You'll be paying me when you return."
"You do know that I am very unlucky in betting," the elf lord said with a groan.
Brom grunted at them. "Lads, there's no need to bicker," he said. He glanced at Eragon and Murtagh with what seemed like pride in his eyes. "You accepted the offer, I presume. Hrothgar is a most gracious king, and treats his clan well. Family is not something he takes lightly. You should be honored."
"Have a good trip, my young Riders," Jormundur said. "Please, guard yourselves well."
"Well, we must go now," Faolin said with grim nod. "Aiedail has set, and we're going to travel far today."
Orik procured a red lantern and smiled. "Well, this should be interesting."
"Riders, dragons, I wish you a safe journey," Melikir said, eyes gleaming in excitement. "You have the Varden's blessings and mine. The hope of Alagaesia rests on your shoulders so please act with honor all the time."
"We will not disappoint you," Nasuada said. The conviction in her voice made Murtagh want to believe her with all his heart.
His sense of adventure being sparked, the red Rider clambered up Thorn's back, and the massive dragon marched through the gates at the base of Farthen Dur. They followed a well-proportioned tunnel that was lined with columns that held bright lanterns for the first fifty feet until it became still and silent. Murtagh smiled. It was similar to the western tunnel, which led to open space. This one was to pass through mountains, all the way to the city of Tarnag.
Murtagh took a deep breath as they plunged into the darkness. They would be traveling in eternal night until they reached Tarnag and when they did, they would be thrust headlong into another adventure. His more rational self warned him of hidden dangers and threats. His more adventurous side scolded him, though.
Our destinies as Rider and dragon are never certain, Thorn told him, reading his thoughts as always.
I know, Murtagh told him. I just hope we're doing the right thing.
Expect a longer chapter soon, where we'll be hearing with Garrow! Did you miss himmmmm? :3
My hand hurts so much, so I'll be addressing questions next chapter instead. I'm sorry, guys, and thank you for you reading this and putting up with me! 3 I love you all so much.
Saphira's having a hangover, so she's crazy for reviews! Yummy yummy beef is appreciated too. XD