21. Wedding
Eragon took his time preparing for his wedding, knowing he would still finish before Arya. After bathing, he removed the whiskers from his face with his usual spell. If Arya wished for him to regrow them, it would require no effort, but he wanted his face clean-shaven for this most important occasion.
The elves had provided him with fine dress clothing, sung from silk and leather to a perfect fit. He wore handsome leather pants, a loose silk shirt that opened in a point at the top of his chest, and a leather tunic over that. He pulled on the heavy boots laying out, already knowing he would remove them before he and Arya left so he wouldn't be encumbered by extra weight.
When Eragon was finished, he left his quarters. As he walked past the door to Willow's room, he heard sounds of laughter on the other side and smiled, wondering what the two women were talking about. He continued on to the Great Hall where the Riders and elves were setting out dishes for the feast, warming the food with magic as needed.
Once Eragon arrived, he automatically began to help as he always had, easily engaging in comfortable conversation with his comrades, though it was more pleasant because of his greater cheer. He briefly visited with Nasuada, Orik, and Nar Garzhvog through a scrying mirror, and each extended their warmest congratulations.
Not as much time had elapsed as Eragon expected before Willow entered from the doorway to the living quarters and announced, "The bride is ready. Let us begin." She then walked over to join the Riders.
Murtagh excused himself from his conversation with Nasuada, and he and Eragon approached the front of the room where those in attendance would most easily see them. Eragon expectantly faced the door through which Willow had emerged.
Arya then entered, swiftly walking to stand beside Eragon, obviously conscious that every eye was on her. Eragon guessed that she had no desire to prolong the moment of attention with a measured march.
Eragon carefully controlled his emotions, though he was truly stunned by how gorgeous Arya looked. He had rarely seen her in a dress, and the gown she wore flattered her perfect body in the most torturous way. He merely said, "You look ravishing," and took her hand, not wanting to embarrass her in front of the assembly with flowery praise.
They faced Murtagh, who began without preamble, "We gather together before you, Eragon, and you, Arya, as honored guests to witness your union as husband and wife. Long has been the road to this point and many the trials you have overcome together, always to emerge triumphant despite the forces conspiring against you."
Eragon glanced at Arya, surprised Murtagh articulated the exact pattern they had identified. Murtagh continued, "Eragon, we are all indebted to you in some way, and I speak for everyone when I say your happiness now is what we most sincerely desired for you. Have you anything you wish to say to one another?"
Eragon appreciated Murtagh's succinct directness. This was no traditional wedding ceremony, but it felt perfect.
Arya surprised him by speaking first. In a voice clear and strong she said, "Eragon, you are a true hero in word and deed. You saved our world from an unspeakable future, yet it was not your heroic feats that defined you, but your quiet acts of humility, selflessness, and mercy. Through them I came to see who you truly are. I am honored to have your love, though I feel myself unworthy." Lowering her voice so only Eragon and Murtagh heard, Arya finished, "You are my savior, Eragon, my hero. I freely give myself to you and will always love you."
Murtagh's eyes glistened as he glanced at Eragon. Eragon simply said, "I love you, Arya. I always have, and it has grown ever deeper with time. I promise to always protect you, to strive to deserve your love, and to fulfill your every desire. I am so much more with you than without. Thank you for coming to me." There was so much he could say, but there would be time for that.
Murtagh then said, "By the authority I seemingly hold as eldest Dragon Rider," he paused and looked at Arya. "Save you, I suppose. And Hanin. And Knilf and Varhog." He laughed at himself. "Never mind. Well then, as elder brother of the most Senior Rider," he amended, grinning drolly at Eragon, "I hereby pronounce you Eragon, son of Brom, and you Arya, daughter of IslanzadÃ, husband and wife."