Double Trouble

A routine was soon established. Isabella and Eragon would rise first. Isabella would go out to visit her dragon while Eragon remained to cover for her. He didn't mind, but he couldn't help the worm of jealousy that squirmed in his gut. Once she returned, they completed any chores necessary on the farm and then she would return to spend a couple of hours with the dragon in the evening. Despite his interference, Garrow and Roran both noticed, but didn't question it too deeply. Isabella had always been an explorer.

During the week, Eragon spent much of his time with the blue egg, hoping it would hatch. Once or twice, he felt it twitch or heard it give a small squeak. Each time it happened, his hopes would soar and then it came to nothing. The meeting with Brom approached rapidly and Isabella's dragon had almost doubled in size. She told him of the trouble she had convincing it to stay behind, being reluctantly to leash it in place.

One morning, Eragon had gone out to feed the dragon as Isabella had to stay behind to help Roran with something for Katrina. He decided to take the blue egg with him and was soon sitting in a clearing with the egg in his lap and Isabella's dragon eating his breakfast. Staring at the egg, Eragon was awed by all of the different shades of blue. The weak sunlight reflected off of the sapphire surface and the thin webbed lines of white almost seemed to glow.

The black dragon butted his hand, making him jump in surprise. He was eyeing the egg with an air of curiosity. He tapped the egg gently with his snout and it quivered in response. There was a squeaking noise and then a tapping came from the egg. Eragon held his breath, watching as excitement raced through him.

One particularly loud tap caused a small crack to appear, and a large grin broke out across his face. He didn't have long to wait, although it felt like forever, before a piece of the egg broke and a dark blue head came into view. The angular body followed, and the dragon almost slithered to the floor before looking around. The black dragon released a puff of smoke. Eragon reached out to brush a piece of the egg off of the dragon and his hand grazed across smooth scales. Fiery pain shot up his arm and sparks flashed in front of his eyes.

It seemed to last for an age but eventually the pain subsided, and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision. The blue dragon was watching him, head cocked. Eragon looked at him palm, which had begun to itch terribly and a silvery symbol, identical to Isabella's slowly appeared. She hadn't mentioned how much it hurt, but Eragon couldn't bring himself to care. He had a dragon!

The blue dragon was quickly distracted by Isabella's coming over and sniffing it curiously. His dragon snapped its fangs causing the other to withdraw, letting out another puff of smoke. Curiosity sated, the black dragon padded back across the clearing and returned to what remained of its earlier meal. However, the blue one followed and attempted to take a bite of the meat, causing the black dragon to snarl. Eragon realised they really needed to name their dragons. Calling them 'the black one' and 'the blue one' was going to get old quite fast.

Eventually the black dragon allowed the other to take a few bites of the meat. Once they were full, they both curled up in the shelter, which Eragon and Isabella had moved to the ground due to her dragon's growth spurt throughout the week. He suspected they would need to make it bigger once more now that the second egg had hatched, either that or the older of the two would have to stop using it shortly.

He spent as long as possible with the dragons before reluctantly returning to the farmhouse. He eagerly told Isabella about his egg hatching, and she smiled at him. Then a worried frown crossed her face.

"Hiding one dragon was going to be difficult enough, I'm not sure how long we can keep two of them hidden," she said quietly, making sure Garrow and Roran couldn't overhear.

"Maybe Brom will have some ideas," Eragon suggested. "I do want to know how he knows so much though. He's a storyteller, isn't it a bit strange he knows so much about dragons and how to care for them?"

"Maybe, but right now I'm just glad we have someone who knows what to do." He nodded. It was a good point. He'd have been even more worried if they had to do this by themselves.

"Do you think we should tell Garrow and Roran?"

"I don't know. I think we should let the dragons get a bit bigger first. Just in case," Isabella mused. "Yours has only just hatched."

"Hopefully Brom will have some ideas for names too. Although, I don't know if mine is male or female."

They completed their daily chores and then both went out to visit the dragons that evening. Eragon felt a thrill run through him at the sight of the dragons curled up in the rudimentary hut. They perked up as the two of them arrived and his dragon came padding over. He picked it up and stroked the brilliant blue scales. He honestly wondered if this was an elaborate dream. He, Eragon, was holding a dragon that had hatched for him.

The day of Brom's visit arrived. He met them in the forest at mid-morning and his eyebrows rose when he saw Eragon as well.

"The egg hatched?" He asked, an indecipherable expression crossing his face.

"Yes!" Eragon beamed.

Isabella watched as the dragons both emerged and Brom inhaled sharply at the sight. She reached out along the bond to her dragon and felt acknowledgement and curiosity at the third person. She pressed the image of his hatching in Brom's house to the dragon and he released a puff of smoke emanating something that Isabella guessed was acceptance.

"They are beautiful," Brom stated quietly. Isabella felt her dragon's pleasure and chuckled to herself.

"We were hoping you could help us with names. And the gender of Eragon's dragon," she said. Brom nodded. He bent to examine the blue dragon.

"I believe she is female. The last female dragon in existence."

"How do you know that?" Isabella asked curiously. "If you already knew the blue egg held a female dragon, the last in existence, you must have known mine was male. And you knew there were a total of four eggs in Alagaësia." She recalled suddenly. "How do you know all this?"

"I know you may find the concept difficult, but I have not spent my entire life in Carvahall," Brom told them with a roll of his eyes. "I spent many years travelling all over Alagaësia."

"Do you know of the elves?" Isabella wondered in delight. She'd always been fascinated by stories of the elves. Brom rarely told of them, but of what he did say, she knew there had been many female warriors as well as male.

"I do." He inclined his head. "Although they are a secretive race. Now, as for names, you should wait until you dragons can communicate properly with you so you can choose the name together." They both nodded.

The day passed in a blur of information. Brom told them all about the lifecycle of dragons, she was quite disappointed to find they wouldn't breathe fire for several months. He then took them through how the Riders began, surprising both of them with the information about Eragon's namesake, and the choosing of new Riders.

"You mean, if they didn't like us, they wouldn't have hatched?" Isabella asked curiously.

"Indeed," Brom agreed. "Dragon eggs given to the Riders don't just hatch on their own. They remain dormant until they find the one destined to be their Rider. Exactly how they choose is unknown, but they will wait forever if they have to."

"And they chose us?" Eragon breathed, awe written all over his face. Brom nodded, smiling at him. They both patted their dragons, feeling honoured to have been chosen out of all the people in Alagaësia.

A new routine began. During the week, they would alternate who went out in the morning and in the evening to see their dragons. They would do the chores and then Brom would visit on the weekends and teach them to become Dragon Riders. It was hard, Brom certainly held no prisoners when it came to teaching them. He even began teaching them how to fight with wooden swords. Eragon took it hard when Brom had beaten them both at the same time. Isabella could tell he was holding back but they still ached fiercely the next morning. And several mornings after. Roran and Garrow were confused by their sudden achiness, but they managed to persuade them they had angered an animal in the Spine during a hunt. Thanks to the amount of time spent with their dragons, it was easy to bring back bits of game on occasion.

Time passed and soon her dragon was approaching a month old. His shoulder now reached her elbow. She was growing frustrated only being able to have lessons with Brom once a week, but they were making progress. The mental contact they shared with the dragons waxed stronger each day.

Isabella found that although he did not comprehend words, she could communicate with him through images or emotions. It was an imprecise method, however, and she was often misunderstood. The range at which they could touch each other's thoughts expanded rapidly. Soon Isabella could contact her dragon anywhere within three leagues. She often did so, and the dragon, in turn, would lightly brush against her mind. These mute conversations filled her working hours. Judging by the frequent clouding of Eragon's eyes, he did the same thing. There was always a small part of her connected to the dragon, ignored at times, but never forgotten.

As the dragons matured, the squeaks deepened to roars and the humming became a low rumble. He often blew out puffs of smoke, but still have several months to go before he could breathe fire.

In that brief span of weeks, both dragons had transformed from small, weak animals into powerful beasts. Their hard scales were as tough as chain-mail armour, their teeth like daggers. Isabella's dragon was stockier than Eragon's, more muscled and generally more powerful, while the blue dragon was sleeker and more agile. Her dragon was also bigger due to hatching a week earlier than Eragon's, but soon that wouldn't matter. By six months they would be roughly even, and the differences would be more down to gender and general build.

They took long walks in the evening with the dragons padding beside them. When they found a clearing, whoever's turn it was that night would settle against a tree and watch the dragons soar through the air. She loved to see them fly and regretted that they were not yet big enough to ride. She couldn't wait to see Palancar Valley from the air. She often sat beside her dragon and rubbed his neck, feeling sinews and corded muscles flex under her hands.

Over the weeks, Isabella also developed a connection to Eragon's dragon. It wasn't nearly as clear and distinct as with her own, but the blue female could send faint emotions. Brom had been highly impressed when she mentioned this. Eragon hadn't managed to make a connection with hers quite yet. Judging by the feelings of mischievousness coming from her dragon at certain points, Isabella realised he was deliberately ignoring her cousin to frustrate him.

Over the last few weeks, the two dragons had developed their own distinct personalities. Eragon's dragon was rather vain and proud, she'd been nipped on the finger when she'd said that out loud, and she often behaved like a mother hen around Eragon despite her young age. If he so much as scraped a palm tripping over a tree root, she would be there in an instant, inspecting his wound. It was greatly amusing to watch. However, she was generally of an even temperament.

The black dragon was opposite. Quick to anger but just as quick to cool down, his mood was often changing. Less vain than the blue, he tended to anger far more over insults to his Rider than to himself, as Brom had found out when he had made a teasing remark about her poor stealth skills. The dragons apparently weren't old enough to understand sarcasm or joking intent and Brom had a rather nasty bite on his arm as a result. She'd apologised, which had caused her dragon to let out an irritable puff of smoke, but Brom had waved it away with a fond smile. Although, she could have sworn she'd heard a few muttered insults once the dragons were out of hearing range. As shown by his ignoring of Eragon, her dragon also had a mischievous streak. He loved to sneak up on whoever went out to visit the dragons. For such a large creature, he was almost as stealthy as Eragon when he wanted to be.

Despite the trio's efforts, the forest around the farm filled with signs of the dragon's existence. It was impossible to erase all the huge four-clawed footprints sunk deep in the snow, and they all refused even to try to hide the giant dung heaps that were becoming far too common. The dragons had rubbed against trees, stripping off the bark, and had sharpened their claws on dead logs, leaving gashes inches deep. If Garrow or Roran went too far beyond the farm's boundaries, they would discover the dragons. Isabella and Eragon could imagine no worse way for the truth to come out, and now that the blue dragon was a few weeks old and large enough to defend herself, they decided it was time. There was just one thing they each wanted to do first, though: give the dragons suitable names.

During one week, Roran wanted to get a chisel repaired in Carvahall, and Isabella volunteered to go with him. The evening before they left, it was her turn to go to the dragons. Heading to a clearing, she called her dragon with her mind. Pleasure and acknowledgement were returned, and, after a moment, she saw a fast-moving speck in the dusky sky. The dragon dived toward her, pulled up sharply, then levelled off above the trees. She heard a low-pitched whistle as air rushed over his wings. It banked slowly to her left and spiralled gently down to the ground. The dragon back flapped for balance with a deep, muffled thwump as he landed.

Isabella opened her mind, still uncomfortable with the strange sensation, and told the dragon that she was leaving for a day. He snorted with unease. She attempted to soothe him with a calming mental picture, but the dragon whipped his tail, unsatisfied. She rested her hand on his shoulder and tried to radiate peace and serenity. Scales bumped under her fingers as she patted him gently.

A single word rang in her head, deep and clear.

Isabella.

It was solemn and a little sad, as if an unbreakable pact were being sealed. She stared at the dragon and a cold tingle ran down her arm to the symbol on her palm.

Isabella.

She beamed. This was the first time either dragon had uttered an actual word.

Isabella.

Yes?

Isabella.

Is that all you can say?

Yes. She chuckled and the dragon huffed, sending her a wave of smugness. After spending another half an hour with her dragon, she had to go back to the farm. As she was walking away, his mind touched hers once more.

Be careful. It sounded more like a demand than a warning and she smiled.

I'm always careful. The dragon snorted, smoke billowing from his nostrils. She sent him a wave of assurance and went back to the farm.

She and Roran left early the next morning. They were at Horst's by mid-morning and as they entered the blacksmith gave them a nod of greeting. There was another man in the smithy, one Isabella didn't recognise. He had a shock of red hair and a bushy moustache of the same colour. The man was of similar height to Horst but had a portly belly, and when he held out his hand to Roran in greeting, Isabella noted two fingers were missing.

"Hullo there. I'm Dempton."

"Roran. And this is my sister Isabella."

"Pleasure to meet you both."

"Are you new in town?" Isabella asked as he shook her hand as well to her surprise. He chuckled.

"I'm from Therinsford. Need some new sockets for my mill and Horst here is the only man skilled enough to do the job properly," Dempton told them with a chuckle. "Might even find myself an apprentice. Shame I can't pinch one of his boys. Good lads, those two." Horst chuckled.

"I wish you luck getting either of my boys away from a forge," he said proudly. "Anyway, what can I do for you two?"

"I need this chisel repaired," Roran admitted ruefully.

"I'm just here to keep him company. Didn't want him getting lost on his way," Isabella grinned. Roran rolled his eyes while Horst chuckled.

"Did you say you were looking for an apprentice?" Roran asked Dempton, clearly looking to change the subject.

"Aye, lad." He eyed Roran. "You interested?" Isabella stared at her brother, expecting the denial. She didn't see one, in fact, he did look quite interested.

"Me?" Roran raised an eyebrow. "You're offering me a job?"

"Aye. The mill's expanding, need an extra hand around the place. No need to decide now. Horst here tells me my sockets will take around two weeks. Take the time to think about it and meet me here in exactly two weeks' time, packed and ready to go, if you want to accept the job."

"That's very generous of you, Sir," Roran stated, looking a little wide-eyed in shock. Horst looked between the pair and then turned his attention solely onto Roran.

"Your chisel shouldn't take me long. If you want to hang around, I can have it done by lunch."

"Thank you, Horst," Roran smiled gratefully. He then began discussing specifics of the job with Dempton. Isabella left. Her brother was going to be leaving in two weeks. She had always thought he would stay at the farm. Take over from Garrow eventually. Why did he need another job?

Irritation flooded through her, and she found herself wandering aimlessly through the streets. After several minutes, she walked into Brom, almost literally. A strong hand on her arm kept her upright as she muttered a distracted apology. When she saw who she had knocked into, she offered him a strained smile.

"What are you doing in town?" He asked.

"Roran's getting a chisel repaired. Won't be done until lunch." Brom studied her for a second.

"Come along then," he sighed. She stared at him blankly. "It's too cold for you to stand around here until then. Come and have a cup of tea," he said gruffly. She grinned.

"Thanks." They walked briskly to Brom's house. It looked almost the same as the last time she had been in there, except he had tidied up the mess her dragon had made. The memory made her smile. Once they both had a cup of tea, and Brom had lit his pipe, he sat and asked about her dragon. She told him how he had finally spoken to her, saying her name and telling her to be careful. Brom chuckled at that.

"Do you have any suggestions for a name. All the ones I can think of just don't seem right."

"Hmm, let's see," Brom said thoughtfully. He began listing off names and she did her best to remember them all. Still, none of them seemed right. After a while they moved on to discussing the future. Brom cautioned against telling Garrow and Roran about the dragons, and Isabella was inclined to agree now that Roran was most likely going to be heading to Therinsford in two weeks.

It was a pleasant way to spend a morning. Brom had mellowed a good deal since the dragons had hatched. He was still gruff, but they now knew his bark was worse than his bite. Except with a sword in his hand. He was devil with one of those. She and her cousin had the bruises to prove it.

Eventually, it was time for her to return for Roran. Brom wished her well and said he would see her at the weekend.

Thankfully, Roran was ready to leave when she arrived back at Horst's. The smith offered them to stay for lunch, but Isabella politely declined for both of them. Roran frowned slightly but didn't argue. They walked almost half of the way back to the farm before she finally broke the tense silence.

"Are you going to take the job?" Roran sighed beside her; his breath visible in the air.

"Yes."

"For when you ask Katrina to marry you?" Her brother looked surprised. "Oh please, did you think you were subtle?" He chuckled.

"I should have known you'd be the first to guess."

"Well, you did ask me to help pick out her birthday present saying you didn't want to mess it up." He grinned and she couldn't help but return it. "Do you have to leave?"

"I do. You know what Sloan is like. He doesn't like us as it is, if I don't have the means to build a house and support Katrina, he will never let me marry her." Roran looked pained. Isabella sighed. She knew Sloan was likely to decline simply because it was Roran asking. For some reason she'd never quite grasped, Sloan disliked their entire family. Not that he really liked anyone.

"If only he were more like Garrow, openly trying to marry her off."

"Father isn't openly trying to marry you off," Roran protested.

"I know. I'm only joking. Father wants what is best for us. All of us," she agreed. Then she frowned, thinking of her cousin. He had always idolised Roran. Hopefully having a dragon to raise would help him. "You know Eragon won't take this well."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm hoping I won't be away for too long. Board is provided, so I shall only need to buy food and the money is really quite generous. It shouldn't take long for me to save enough money." She nodded.

Roran broke the news at dinner that evening. As expected, Eragon was angered by the news. "There's too much work on the farm for you to leave now," he protested. "Wait until we're ready for planting." He looked towards Garrow for aid.

"No," said Roran, laughing slightly. "Spring's the time I'll be needed the most. The ground will have to be furrowed and sown. The crops must be weeded—not to mention all the other chores. No, this is the best time for me to go, when all we really do is wait for the seasons to change."

Garrow finished his mouthful of food with deliberate slowness and laid down his fork. He leaned back in his chair, then interlaced his fingers behind his head and uttered one dry word, "Why?"

Roran explained.

"This is madness!" Eragon burst out.

"Eragon," Isabella stepped in soothingly. "He won't be gone forever."

"When do you leave?" Garrow asked.

"What?" Eragon and Roran yelped at the same time. "You're condoning this?" Eragon continued.

"Of course," Garrow chuckled, looking at the surprised faces of the two boys. Isabella simply smiled. He leaned forward with a twinkle in his eye. "Did you think I would stop you? I'd hoped you would marry soon. It will be good to see this family growing again." Isabella pulled a face that he ignored. "Katrina will be lucky to have you." Astonishment raced over Roran's face, then he settled into a relieved grin. "So, when do you leave?" Garrow repeated his question.

"When Dempton returns in two weeks." Garrow nodded.

"Good. That gives us time to prepare. I take it you knew of this?" He looked at her.

"Only today. He told me on the walk home. It'll be nice not to hear his snoring from all the way across the house," she said. Garrow chuckled as Roran protested that he didn't snore.

They cleaned the dishes and then Eragon headed out to the dragons. Isabella suspected he needed to vent. She simply congratulated her brother, hoping it would work out between him and Katrina. He deserved to be happy. And it would be good for him to have someone. Isabella wasn't stupid. She knew that eventually, she and Eragon would have to leave with the dragons. Brom had said the king would kill to get hold of the dragons and they would eventually be noticed. Someone would talk and then someone would come looking. She refused to put her family in danger and knew they would have to leave pre-emptively. Not that she'd mentioned that to Eragon yet, but it was why she put so much effort into training with Brom, and why she was frustrated about only having lessons once a week.

The next few days were trying. Eragon's temper was frayed. Except for curtly answering direct questions, he spoke with no one, not even her. There were small reminders everywhere that Roran was leaving: Garrow making him a pack, things missing from the walls, and a strange emptiness that filled the house. Over a week, a distance had grown between Roran and Eragon. When they spoke, the conversations held an underlying tension. It pained her to see her brother and her cousin at such odds, rather than enjoying the time they could be spending together.

"Alright, that's enough!" She finally stepped in the night before Brom would be coming for their next lesson.

"What?" Eragon asked grouchily.

"You two are being ridiculous. Eragon, you should be happy for Roran. Getting married and falling in love is a big thing. He isn't going to be gone forever. Garrow and I will still be here. Roran, tiptoeing around Eragon clearly isn't helping anything. You two are going to spend months apart, and here you are spending the last two weeks together not talking. If you don't fix it here and now, I will knock your heads together and lock you both in a room until you do talk." Roran looked away, rubbing the back of his neck as he always did when he was embarrassed. Eragon just glared at the floor mutinously.

"I don't want you to leave," he murmured eventually.

"I know," Roran said softly. "But I'll be back before you know it. Hopefully with Katrina and you can enjoy having someone else around to torment." Eragon scowled at him, but there was a little humour in his eyes now. Isabella sighed in relief. She turned to leave, deciding to spend some time with her dragon while the two spent some time together. As she was leaving, Roran shot her a grateful look which she returned with a smile.

In a clearing, she called her dragon to her, and he soon came swooping down. His shoulder was now taller than hers.

Isabella.

Hello, Trouble. He snorted at the name. Well, how about we give you a proper name then? She felt his agreement and began listing off some of the names Brom had given her. His reactions varied from a simple negative to outright disgust. She was growing desperate. Even her own suggestions had been thrown out.

Eventually, she recalled hearing a story from one of the traders a couple of years ago. It had been about dwarves, and a famous hammer of some kind. She struggled to remember the name. Volund, maybe? She knew it meant 'eternal warrior'. Volund sounded correct.

How about Volund. Eternal warrior, she suggested. Much to her delight, she felt a pulse of pleasure and smugness.

Yes. Volund's mental voice had grown even deeper as he aged. It was far deeper than the blue dragon's, although she had only spoken to the dragon once and it had only said one word, so it might have changed. Eragon's name. You are troubled. She sighed. So far, she had avoided mentioning the tense atmosphere in the house all week, but as she had grown closer to Volund, he in turn, had developed a better understanding of her. In fact, he understood her better than anyone else. Even her brother.

Eventually, she told him everything that had happened, and how she didn't want her brother to leave, even if she understood why he was doing in. When she got to the part about telling the two of them off, he let out a choking sound that, judging by the accompanying feeling of amusement, she guessed was laughter. He pressed the memory of when she had told him about talking to the traders in Morn's tavern at her. You are a fierce one.

Of course. Only the fiercest would be a fitting companion for the Eternal Warrior, she stated with a smile. He hummed in agreement and nudged the tip of his nose against the side of her face. She stroked the hard scales.

A thump alerted them to the arrival of the blue dragon. She was clutching her latest prey in her mouth and Volund immediately turned his head in interest. She snarled at him, and Isabella chuckled. The two of them had never been particularly inclined to share, though they did get along well enough when food wasn't involved.

How is Eragon? The blue asked once she had finished eating.

Grouchy. Roran leaves in a week and he is still moping. However, the two of them are at least talking again.

She sent a wave of satisfaction. Good. He will miss your nest-mate. Isabella nodded. They both would. She spent a little longer with both dragons, telling them stories about growing up as requested. Both dragons frequently commented on her tales and soon she had to head back.