AN: Gah! The first time I uploaded this, it changed half of it into italics. For NO REASON. That's not what I told you to do, computer. It wasn't like that in my Documents, or when I previewed it, so go figure. So, ANYWAY...I decided I was going to try something different with this chapter. OPPA FLASHBACK STYLE. I hope you like it. I think this is probably the first chapter that I'm actually happy to upload, it was an absolute joy to write. And at the end of the day, isn't that why we do it?
I closed the heavy doors behind me as quietly as I could, and despite their size they barely made a sound. I spun around, pressing my back against the doors and breathing deeply, willing my racing heart to slow down. I took stock of my surroundings: I was in a large, cold room with floors of grey stone and a ceiling constructed entirely of glass tiles which allowed starlight to pool through, basking everything in an eerie silver glow. Everything was still and for a moment I almost convinced myself that the hard part was over. All of the fighting and the running had resulted in me completely losing any sense of where I was. Arriana's map was useless to me now...I was in uncharted territory behind enemy lines. I pushed myself off of the doors and strode forward, towards the door at the far-end of the room which I was quietly confident would lead me to a way out of this wretched labyrinth of a castle. I had taken no more than two steps when the torches which hung in black, steel cages placed intermittently around the room burst into black and red flame. I froze to the spot, despite every fibre of my body screaming at me to turn around and flee for my life. The door which, a moment ago, had seemed my salvation, now swung open to reveal what would surely be my doom.
The five-and-ten soldiers who marched through and stationed themselves in a wall-like line facing me at the opposite end of the room were not the ones who made my blood freeze. They were not the ones who made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The wall of men parted in the middle, and Galbatorix strolled towards me. He walked slowly, almost lazily, as if he had all the time in the world which, I reminded myself bitterly, he probably did.
This is it. I realised, numbly. This is the end. This is how I die.
The sword in my hand which only a moment ago had seemed so important, now meant less than nothing. It was a prop: a comfort blanket which offered me no comfort at all. It would not save me now. I would never think another thought, never get a chance to wonder how I could have changed things, or what I could have done differently, how I could have saved myself. My body, the body that I had loathed for so many of my self-conscious teenage years, would cease to belong to me. Any moment now my heart, the heart that had loved so many people with such ferocity: Obsidian, Murtagh, Eragon, Saphira, Hearan, Selena, my father...would beat it's last and shudder to a halt inside my chest. My hands, hands that had stroked my sister's hair when she was sad, hands that Murtagh had taken in his with such tenderness, hands that my father had held when I was too young to walk my own path, hands which bore the symbol of my sacred bond with Obsidian...they would touch nothing more. My voice, which had said so much, and had never said enough, would be silenced forever, and my eyes which had shed tears of joy and sorrow, which had seen both beauty and devastation, would see no more. My life was about to be ripped away from me...and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I thought back to the words that were carved into stone in the heart of Ellesmera. The words on my memorial.
Where They Saw Dark, She Knew Light
An Inferno In An Ember
She Gave Her Life For We Who Fight
And We Who Fight Remember...
Well...at least they would not have to change it. I steeled myself, refusing to give in to my fate. Not now. Not when all of the broken pieces of my life had just started to align themselves. My fear dissolved almost as suddenly as it had come and in it's place burned a deep hatred for the man standing before me. I looked up into his sneering face, tightening my grip on my sword. If I was going to die, I was going to die fighting.
"Katharean." Galbatorix drawled. "You ruined my party."
Twelve hours earlier.
"Do you need any help there?"
I spun around with a start, and smiled sheepishly when I saw Eragon standing before me.
"Are you okay?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course. I'm just a little on edge, that's all." I admitted, rubbing the back of neck absent-mindedly. I gestured to the straps of Obsidian's saddle which I had been wrestling with. "I think we are okay here, Argetlam. I was just making sure everything was secured. Had to pierce a new hole for the buckle, it was getting a little too tight, but I managed. How is the antidote coming along?"
He held up a small, glass vial filled with a colourless liquid in way of an answer. I raised my eyebrows, examining it closely.
"That's it?" I asked, nervously, reaching out to take it carefully in my hands. "That was quick."
"Yes, well...time is a luxury we can ill afford." He replied, solemnly. He chewed his lip, and I could tell he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should. I tucked the vial carefully into an empty pocket of Obsidian's saddle-bag and turned to face my friend.
"What's on your mind, Eragon?" I prompted, and he started to deflect my question, but I stepped towards him. "Now is not the time to keep things to yourself. If you have something to say, please say it."
"It is a stupid idea." He said, dismissively. "I was just going to say, while we wait for Arya, I could take you to see that memorial I told you about yesterday. I know we don't have much time, I just thought-"
"Sure." I cut him off before he could talk himself out of it. It was obviously important to him that I see it, or he would never have brought it up. I was leaving him here on his own, if there was anything I could do to make him happy, by the Gods I would do it. "That sounds like a good idea. I mean...it's morbid, but I would like to see it, all the same. Lead the way."
The memorial wasn't far from our lodgings, and we chose to walk rather than fly. No, we did not have a lot of time, but I was determined to make the most of the time we did have. I was fairly confident in the plan that Arya and I had decided upon, but still...even the best laid plans fall through sometimes. If anything were to happen to me, I would not have Eragon's last memory of me to be our confrontation in the tree-house.
We walked in silence, chancing glances at each other and smiling, awkwardly. There was so much that we both wanted to say, but finding the words was proving to be nothing short of impossible. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry that we fought, but I was not sorry for what we fought over. I wanted to tell him that everything would work out, and I wanted to mean it. I wanted to tell him what he meant to me, but even I was unsure what that was. I wanted him to know that when we were together, everything felt right. Everything was easy and natural and even when we fought, I knew that he loved me and I loved him. I wanted to tell him not to worry, that we would have plenty more stupid fights in the future. But as soon as I laid eyes on the dragon-shaped rock in the centre of a small clearing in the forest, all of those words that I wanted to say suddenly felt like lies. How could I promise him that everything would be okay when we were standing before my tombstone?
"That's it, isn't it?" I asked, sombrely. He nodded, walking towards it, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I thought that it would be easy, reading the words that were written on that plaque. I had thought that I would laugh it off, make some facetious remark about people getting ahead of themselves, maybe joke with Eragon about how it would take more than a little army to stop me. But suddenly, I did not feel like joking.
It was not just the knowledge that in a few hours my life was going to be in real danger that kept me rooted to the spot. There were words carved in stone just a few feet in front of me, words that somebody else had written which were intended to memorialise my life and all that I stood for after I was gone. Just a few words...is that what my life would be reduced to? Would those words be enough for me? I wasn't sure that I wanted to find out. Eragon turned to me.
"Do you need any help there?" He asked, echoing his words to me earlier with a knowing smile. I returned his smile, shaking my head and pulling myself together.
"I think we are okay here, Argetlam." I replied, and he held out a hand, beckoning me to join him. I walked towards him, slowly, keeping my eyes on his face, and took his hand in mine.
"Are you ready?" He asked, quietly. I nodded.
"As ready as I'll ever be to read my own epitaph." I answered, smiling feebly. I took a steadying breath and turned my head towards the polished stone plaque. In the top right-hand corner, there was a likeness of me...the old me. The girl I was before the magics of the Dragons had altered and changed me. There was a small smile on my face, and my hair was blown out behind me as if captured in a strong wind. It looked like I was flying. In the bottom left-hand corner, there was a portrait of Obsidian, his proud head raised skywards, as if perpetually watching the me that was immortalised on the stone above him. That was nice, I thought. He would like that.
Do not speak of me as if I really am dead, Katharean. Obsidian grumbled, although I could tell that he felt as uneasy as I did.
Sorry, Sid. I didn't even realise you were around. I admitted, sheepishly.
Of course I am. I would not leave you to do this on your own. He replied, although a quick scan of the surrounding area told me that he was staying out of sight. I knew you would find it more difficult than you anticipated.
Thank you. I replied, trying to convey all of the gratitude I felt with those two words. He replied, silently, nudging my mind affectionately.
I turned my attention to the words in the centre of the piece, the words I had been avoiding. I read the poem over and over again, absorbing every detail, committing it to memory.
"What do you think?" Eragon asked, squeezing my hand. I looked at him with tears shining in my eyes.
"I think...this was your doing." I replied. He looked at his feet, with a small smile.
"Well...they wanted a fairth of you and Obsidian, and who else knows you better than I? I was the best man for the job."
"Thank you." I whispered. "Really. It's beautiful. And the poem?"
"Well, I was already here to make the fairth, I figured why stop there?" He replied. I blinked back tears and enveloped him in a tight embrace, thanking him silently.
I understood now why he wanted me to see this. Sometimes, we can't find the words we want to say to the people we love until it's too late. Eragon and I had been given a second chance.
"You know, it's probably quite unhealthy that you are so emotionally stunted that you still can't say nice things to my face, and you have to use my tombstone as a means of communication." I joked, lightening the mood while I stroked the back of his neck, soothingly. I had known that my "death" had hit Eragon harder than most, but it was only now that I was beginning to fully appreciate how much he had been hurting. It was probably quite unhealthy that it took a rock with a poem on it to make me realise that although my death had been pure fallacy to me, it had been a reality to Eragon for almost a year. I had died. Not in the traditional sense, granted, but that did not mean that he had not mourned for me. And now I was gallivanting off to save the day, putting myself in harm's way to save a village full of people I did not know, and hurting the one person who had stuck by me through everything. It is true what they say...no good deed goes unpunished.
"I'm sorry, Eragon. I truly am." I whispered. "But you know I have to do this." He held me tighter, burying his face in my hair.
"I know. Just come back, Kate." He replied, in a shaky voice. "Please don't leave me again. I don't think I can do this without you."
"I'll be back. I promise." I said, forcefully. "Even if it means I have to fight my way through Galbatorix's entire army, I'll come back to you."
Twelve hours later.
I am so sorry, Eragon.
"Katharean...you ruined my party." Galbatorix drawled, so amused at himself that I had the strongest urge to march up to him and slap him across his face.
That would be a bad move. I would advise against it, but as we have all discovered tonight, you do not take my advice.
Obsidian! Where are you? Not to rush you or anything but I could really use a sharp exit.
I will be with you shortly. Stall him.
"You ruined your own party." I replied, thanking all of my lucky stars that my voice did not shake. "Masquerade balls were so last season."
He chuckled in amusement, and the sound made my blood run cold.
"That hurts my feelings, Katharean. Or are you going by Kate now?"
Six hours earlier
"Lady Athem?"
"Please...call me Kate." I grinned, surprising myself with how pleased I was to see Sel, my old stable-hand. He stood in the doorway to his small, humble home, openly gaping at me. And little wonder: as far as he knew I was a dead girl, and yet here I stood, plain as day. I would have been more surprised if he wasn't stunned. "Can we talk inside? I fear it is not safe for us to be seen together out here."
My words seemed to snap him out of his trance and he nodded, gesturing for me to enter. I strode past him into the tiny living-room, feeling an unexpected stab of guilt at the cramped conditions in which he and his family were forced to live, all because of the pittance that my father paid him for his labour. And now, here I was, to ask something of him that could put them all in danger if anyone was to find out. I was a known enemy of the King, a high-profile vigilante, and my very presence here was enough to sentence them all to a life in the dungeons...or worse.
But when I turned around, I saw none of this in his face. He was smiling warmly at me, and there was something not unlike adoration in his eyes. I looked at the floor, gathering my thoughts, the twisting serpent of guilt and shame in the pit of my stomach rendering me unable to hold his gaze.
"Sel...I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but I fear I may need your help. Or, perhaps more accurately, your wife's help." I said, softly.
"Lady Ath...Kate, if there is anything at all we can do for you, we will do it gladly. Do not think I don't know what you did for me. That gold that you gave me fed our family for a month. It paid for a healer to tend Arianna during the birth of our daughter. Your father has been good to me, I know that. But I knew that it was not his doing. I knew it then, and I know it now. If we can be of help to the mighty Dragon Rider, Katharean Athem...well, that is a story to tell my little Saffron when she is grown, don't you think?"
I cringed at the gratitude in his voice, knowing that I did not deserve it. I did not give him gold so that he and his family could benefit. I did it for selfish reasons. I did it to get him out of the way so that I could continue lying to my father and my family.
That may be true, Katharean, but if you cast your mind back, you did give more than you needed to. He would have been happy enough with half of what you gave him.
Only because I didn't understand the concept of money. I replied, bitterly.
Maybe so. But what you are doing now is not selfish. If you had stayed away, stayed in Ellesmera where you were safe and wanted, Sel and his family would be dead within the week, along with the rest of the village. Your being here may put them in danger, but only if the King finds out. You're not being here, on the other hand, would ensure their fates were sealed. He argued, and I felt my shoulders relax a was right, of course. I had a chance to make up for the years I spent as a kept noblewoman. This was my chance to put things right.
"I need a map of the palace. I need to know every entrance, every room, every corridor and every window. And I need it before the Masquerade Ball starts, in..." I peered out of a small window to my left, taking note of the position of the sun. "Around two hours time. I know that Arriana worked there for years."
"She works there still. In fact, she is there right now." He replied and, seeing the look of anguish on my face at this news, quickly added, "But she should be home very shortly. I am certain she can be of help to you, La-...Kate."
"Excellent. Thank you, Sel. I cannot tell you how grateful I am...this may save many lives."
This seemed to pique his interest, and he frowned slightly, regarding my face with an odd mixture of scrutiny and inherent respect.
"What...what exactly do you need a map of the castle for? And...you mentioned the ball...perhaps the stories I have heard of you are false, but as I understand it you have made an enemy of Galbatorix...why would you be going to his ball? If you do not mind my asking, my Lady." He added, promptly, looking almost embarrassed by his outburst of curiosity. I waved a hand, dismissively.
"I think that perhaps, for your own safety, it is best that you do not know all the details. Just in case anybody ever decides to have a dig around your mind for information...plausible deniability, Sel. It's a luxury few of us have been entitled to. I have been and will be responsible for many deaths in my life. I will not allow yours to be one of them."
Six hours later.
"I am Kate to my friends. You may address me as Miss Athem. Since you stripped my father and my family of our land and titles not one hour ago, I imagine requesting that you call me Lady Athem would be somewhat...redundant."
"Indeed!" He replied, with a relaxed smirk. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. "I fear then, Miss Athem, that you and I may have gotten off on the wrong foot. Believe it or not, all I want to do is help you...and Obsidian."
"The same way that you helped Murtagh and Thorn?" I asked, coolly. He waved a hand, dismissively.
"Murtagh was weak. He could never live up to my expectations of a true Dragon Rider. He was far too much like his father. You, on the other hand, are quite different. You are special, Katharean. Together, we can accomplish great things. All you have to do is lay down your weapons, and listen to what I have to offer you."
"I think I would rather keep a hold of my weapons, thank you very much."
"So distrustful." He said in a tone which reminded me forcefully of a disappointed parent. "Should I prove to you how honourable a king I am? Guards! Bring in the prisoner!" I regarded him, quizzically. "My men arrested a young fellow from your beloved village not two weeks ago. He was attempting to steal from my pantry, and he is to be hanged for his crimes. But I will release him, as a gift to you, to mark the beginning of our...special relationship."
The doors behind me burst open and I spun around, being careful to keep Galbatorix within my field of vision as I did so. I did not think that he would attack me while my back was turned...why would he need to? But still, I didn't want to present him with the opportunity.
Two guards dragged a young man into the room. His head was slumped forwards and his face was concealed by a mop of matted hair that was so dirty it was impossible to determine what colour it was supposed to be. He was dressed in filthy rags and his legs trailed limply behind him. I took a step to the side as the three men passed me and crossed the room to meet Galbatorix, who was waiting with an expression of smug anticipation on his cruel face.
"That will be all." He addressed the guards and they released the young man, who promptly fell to the floor. Galbatorix reached down and pulled him up to a standing position by the scruff of his neck. He glanced back at the line of soldiers who stood behind him. "You are dismissed. Leave us." The men instantly obeyed, filing out of the room the same way that they had entered. He turned back to regard me with an amused expression on his face. I ignored him, studying the face of the man he now held by the neck. He was young, I guessed that he was probably only a few years my senior. I had thought that he looked frail when the guards were carrying him, but now that he was standing I saw that he was reasonably muscular...probably a farmer or a miller, and his chest was exposed in places, revealing several angry-looking gashes on his flesh. I ground my teeth, sickened by his obvious mistreatment.
"The choice is yours, Miss Athem. You can save this poor boy's life...all you have to do is lay down your weapons and agree to talk. Just to talk. Or...you can refuse, and he will die knowing that you could have saved him so easily, and chose not to." Galbatorix was studying me, intensely, and I could tell he was savouring every moment. This was fun for him, I realised. Holding someone's life in his hands, forcing me to decide his fate...this was all just a game to him. I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him.
"I have no choice." I whispered. I returned my gaze back to the boy in rags as I slowly sank into a crouching position, laying the flat blade of my sword on the stone ground. I lowered my eyes as I did so, and noticed for the first time that the boy had suffered more wounds than just the cuts on his chest. His right shin was gleaming with a thick layer of fresh blood, and my stomach turned at the sight of jagged bone poking through his torn flesh. This man had a broken shin-bone. He should have been writhing in agony...he certainly should not have been standing upright, placing his weight on it as if nothing was wrong. And yet he was. It was as if he could not feel pain...and then it hit me. Without a word, I reached into my boot and pulled out Selena's dagger, launching it through the air towards Galbatorix and his prisoner, and rising to my feet with my sword still firmly in my grip. Galbatorix did not move. He did not try to evade the dagger that flew through the air towards him. Perhaps because he knew that his wards would protect him...or perhaps because he knew he was not my intended target.
The young boy fell to the floor with a sickening gurgle as he took his last breath: the glittering hilt of my sister's jewel-encrusted dagger protruding from the bloody mess that was his left eye.
"The next time you try to trick me into giving up my sword, do not use one of your twisted, walking-dead soldiers as bait." I snarled. Rather than looking annoyed that I had not fallen for his ruse, Galbatorix practically beamed at me. He bent over the corpse of the fallen boy, surveying it with something like polite interest.
"Excellent." He breathed. "Very precise. There are not many warriors who have such skill with throwing-knives." He reached out and slid the dagger from the man's ocular cavity, wiping the blood on the dead man's ragged clothes. "This is a beautiful dagger. It would be a shame if you were to lose something so fine." He tossed it towards me and I caught it easily in my free hand, keeping my eyes trained on his face. "Please forgive my little deception, Miss Athem. I only want a chance to talk with you. I think you will be very interested in what I have to say. We can be of immense value to one another...with my help, you can become the most powerful warrior in Alagaesia."
I gaped at him in disbelief. The man was clearly insane. I had always known that he was crazy, I just never realised how crazy he was until that moment.
"At what price? You...you threatened my family, you tried to make the man I love kill me in front of you, then you use emotional blackmail in an attempt to disarm me and now you expect me to stay here and chat with you?" A peal of laughter escaped my throat unbidden at the absurdity of it. "Oh, this is so delicious, it has to be fattening."
For the first time that night, Galbatorix did not look as though he was enjoying himself. He narrowed his eyes, ever-so-slightly and took a step towards me. I took a step back at the same time, preserving the distance between us.
"I do not appreciate your tone, young lady." He snapped. His frown vanished once more and was replaced by a terrifyingly friendly expression. "But why don't we put all of this unpleasantness behind us so you can hear what I have to say."
An image flashed in my mind's eye and I knew without question that I was seeing what Obsidian was seeing. I smiled, triumphantly.
"Why not?" I replied, smirking. "Let's do that. I hope you are a fast talker, though. I would guess you have about three seconds."
No sooner had the words left my mouth than the sky above us shattered and glass rained down on us both, I crouched, covering my head defensively with my hands, but any real danger was deflected by my wards. The floor beneath me shook as Obsidian landed in the space between us, roaring ferociously at Galbatorix who looked slightly bewildered, but unafraid. I grinned, sheathing my sword in preparation to mount him, but in all of the commotion, I did not hear the door behind me open. I turned just in time to avoid being skewered by a large guard bearing a two-handed longsword. I leapt to the side, reflexively, and knocked the sword from his hands. Now unarmed, he grabbed my shoulder with one hand and slammed his fist into my gut with all of his strength. I let out a cry of surprise and pain at the contact: it hurt a lot more than I would have expected it to, but I did not have time to waste on him. I returned the favour, catching his jaw with my fist and sending him flying against the wall, where he made impact with a sickening crack. He fell to the floor and did not move. I turned and climbed agilely up Obsidian's foreleg and swung myself into the saddle, feeling his muscles coil beneath me as he prepared to launch himself upwards.
"Less than three seconds. Forgive me, my timing was a little off...I'd love to stay and chat, but I really must fly." I called to the king, jubilantly. He looked positively furious, and I couldn't help but revel in his rage. It was the least disturbing emotion I had seen from him all night. At least it was honest. "Thank you for the wonderful party, we really must do it again some time!"
And then he was gone, and I was rising into the night.
Your timing is impeccable! I laughed, giddily, basking in the feeling of the cold wind whipping my hair behind me. I was alive, and I was free. And so was Murtagh. He was waiting for me with my father and Selena. Only minutes before, I was so sure that I would never see any of them again..it was hard to believe that everything had turned out so perfectly. I had flown to Kitschley to save the villagers, but I had ended up saving myself.
As happy as you are with recent events, I am not sure that everyone will be as thrilled as you. You have to remember, Murtagh has been their sworn enemy. Your word will doubtless go a long way with the people of the Varden, but it will take time, Katharean. And I fear that your biggest challenge will prove to be convincing Eragon and Saphira not to attack him on sight.
It will be difficult, I agreed, but it will all work out. You'll see. I have learned that if something feels right, then it usually is. Eragon has his issues with Murtagh, but he is no fool, he will see that he can be a great asset to us in the coming battles. And if we get Arya on board before we leave, she will be of great help in convincing Eragon that this is the best possible outcome that we could have hoped for. This is more than I could ever have hoped for. Everything will...I trailed off, mid-thought as I felt a burning, cramping sensation in my gut, where the soldier had taken a swing at me. I tried to take a hand from the saddle to press against the area, to soothe it, but Obsidian banked to the left and I clung on tightly with both hands again, feeling a little dizzy from the sudden change in direction. When the dizziness did not subside after a few seconds, I shook my head, and the dark shapes of the trees below us slowly came back into focus. That's odd. I thought, more to myself than Obsidian.
We are almost there. Do you have any kind of plan as to how we are going to transport Arya, your father, your sister, your brother-in-law and your infant nephew to Ellesmera? He asked, and I groaned slightly at the thought.
I don't suppose they can follow us on horse-back, can they? I asked, hopefully. Obsidian did not dignify me with a response. No, I didn't think so. Well, we have two large dragons now, if we can distribute the weight evenly, everybody should be able to fit. It will be tight, and we may have to fly a lot slower than usual, but needs must.
There was another painful twinge in my gut and I clenched my teeth to stifle a moan. The man who punched me was strong, but he was just a man. No man should be able to hurt me like this with a single punch. Something was wrong.
Carefully, I removed a hand from the saddle again, bringing it in to myself to touch the painful area above my right hip. I closed my eyes, slowly, cursing under my breath, when my fingers came into contact with something warm and wet. I raised my hand in front of my eyes. The blood that coated my fingers was almost black in the dim light of the waning moon. I forced back a wave of nausea and clasped my hand back to my wound, pressing down on it to stop the flow of blood. How could this have happened? The guard must have been carrying a concealed blade when he struck me...I seethed with anger at the cowardice and deception. I concentrated on breathing slowly, trying to keep myself from panicking. If I panicked, my heart would beat faster, pumping more blood through my veins and causing me to bleed to death a whole lot sooner. I knew this, knew it all too well. I had to keep myself calm, which is easier said than done when you have a hole in your belly. It would all be okay. We were on our way to Murtagh and Arya, they could heal me and it would be as if nothing had happened, and we could just continue towards the picture of future bliss that had already started forming cruelly in my mind. But what if something has happened? What if they are not there when we land? Whispered a frightened little voice in my mind. No. They would be there. They had to be there. This would not be the story of me.
Katharean, is something wrong? Obsidian asked, nonchalantly. He must have felt only a shadow of my rising emotion: and I had been trying so hard to hide it from him. Whatever had escaped through my barriers was just enough that he knew I was agitated: he had no idea that I was dying.
Just keep flying. I replied, unable to lie to him with my thoughts. I need to see Murtagh.
I felt faint by the time Obsidian landed gracefully in the clearing and five familiar voices broke out in a symphony of relief and joy at our arrival. Murtagh whooped in celebration, my father and Garth hugged each other, laughing in relief, my sister bounced Cailan on her hip, smiling widely at me and Arya regaled me with a slow-clap which I took to mean "congratulations, you are not dead". I tried to smile back at them, but it became a grimace of pain and I groaned, sliding from Obsidian's back and landing clumsily, staggering forward and falling to one knee, clutching my stomach. Before I could think, hands were on me, checking my vital signs and the cheerful voices of my loved ones became fretful whispers and frantic questions.
Katharean? Obsidian asked, sounding utterly lost.
"I'm all right." I tried to tell them. "One of Galbatorix's men...I thought he just punched me, but he must have had some kind of concealed dagger...I didn't even feel it pierce the skin..."
Murtagh cursed angrily, laying me on my back on the forest floor with deliberate care.
"Okay, Katharean. Just lie still, I'll take care of it." He murmured, soothingly, stroking my forehead absent-mindedly as he surveyed the offending area. I looked up into the worried faces of my family, of Obsidian towering over everyone. There was too much worry in their faces, I couldn't bear to look for long, so I looked past them, to the stars above me.
It was a beautiful night.
The sky was clear, and the beauty of the heavens above me was unimpeded by the clouds that would surely have cloaked their brilliance and their majesty, for they truly were majestic.
It was a beautiful night.
I was surrounded by people who loved me and cared for me, and who I loved with all my heart. Murtagh's rough, calloused hands caressed my body in a way that was not intimate in the slightest, and at the same time, was more intimate than any other time he had laid hands on me. His voice spoke pretty prayers, constructed from ancient, indiscernible words which moved and created and healed places inside of me that I had never given thought to before I felt them knitting and bonding together within my flesh.
It was a beautiful night. And as I lay there, in a pool of my own blood, and my face pale with death, I smiled weakly, closing my eyes.
It was a beautiful night.
I thought absently that it would be a beautiful night to die. Surrounded by friends and family, in the arms of the man I loved, in the shadow of the dragon I adored. It was a good night to die.
But tomorrow would be a great day to live.
It was a beautiful night. And a beautiful dawn would surely follow, and I wasn't going to miss it for the world. Everything had gone wrong tonight. Nothing had gone the way I had planned. But I would live to fight another day. And by the Maker, what a glorious fight it was going to be.
AN: Please review! x