I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.
5/30/23 - Previously mulitple chapters that have been edited and combined.
Please let me know your thoughts throughout the story, I'd love to hear from you :)
Enjoy,
Decision and Direction
"What are you doing awake at this hour?" Rose said after a time of silence.
Eragon held his gaze with her for a moment before looking away with a sigh. "I couldn't sleep," he said.
"That I do not doubt; it's your watch," she muttered with a frown. "Is the bag meant to be a makeshift pillow or do you mean to go somewhere?"
He straightened in a jerky motion, hefting his bag on his back. "What does it matter to you?"
Rose shrugged, and glanced away. "It doesn't," she said, crossing her arms indigently. "Yet it will matter to Brom and your mother, and I cannot simply let you leave without knowing the reason for you doing so. I would have far too many people questioning me come morn." She paused as she debated on her next words. "I know your dreams have been bothering but don't you think that it might be a trick? One that you're walking straight into?"
In the weak light she saw Eragon scowl. Saphira moved out of the shadows and stood beside him, her scales shining vividly in the moonlight. "I have," he whispered brusquely. "But I have to do something or I'll go crazy. Sitting around waiting for the visions to go away isn't working so I choose to risk it."
"You'll be risking more than just your safety and freedom for a haunt that does not exist."
"She exists," he said shortly as if this was a conversation he had many times before. "I've seen her before when I scried her. One cannot scry something that doesn't exist."
Biting her lip, she studied him through the darkness, though she couldn't see as much as she could like in the dim firelight, and saw a high blush of fever on his cheeks and his unwavering stance. He's not within his right mind, she thought with a sigh. "That does not mean that she's real. You're chasing a dream, Eragon. None of it is real," she said as quietly as she could, hoping that their company would remain slumbering. "Best return to sleep. You'll probably feel better come morning."
"I won't," said Eragon bitterly. "I never feel better in morning. I only feel worse after being kept awake by visions of the woman you claim not to be real. But you don't see her. I do. Every day as plainly as I see you or Saphira or Thorn. I feel her too. I can feel the life being drained from her. She's dying and I can feel every moment of it. It feels like I'm dying also, and nothing I've done has stopped it. I have to go, if only to prove that I am going mad and it's all been in my head this whole time. At least then I'll know."
Rose opened her mouth and quickly closed it. It wasn't going to do any good to argue with him, it certainly wasn't doing any good as far as she could tell. She felt Thorn mindtouch her, and without hesitation opened her mind to him. I've talked with Saphira, he said. She's rather worried about him. The visions he has been having troubles her greatly, and she cannot seem to comfort him in any way that will help. She has said that he wishes to go find this woman with or without her, and is resolved not to let anything in his path stop him. She cannot seem to persuade him and chooses to go with him to keep him safe. Also she asked for assistance. Any help that we might give would be greatly appreciated.
Assist, how? Rose frowned and rubbed her arms, trying to warm that chill that has settled in her skin like a mist.
However you choose.
Resisting the urge to turn and glare at the dragon, she bit her lip. That's rather unhelpful. I don't see how we can do anything to help. I should wake Selena. Rose regretted the thought as soon as it came and knew she wouldn't waken the woman. Why make me choose? You should have a say in what we do.
You know what I would do. He nudged her back with his snout, causing her stumble forward slightly.
She did know. For a moment she considered her options, she couldn't leave him to go off on his own; despite having Saphira about, he was a liability in his state and would likely get them both killed, nor could she wake Selena and Brom, though she considered it, and tell them what he was planning. If Rose was correct in her thinking, he would only find a way to leave despite her best efforts to stop him, rather it was now or later. She could of course accompany him, to watch over him and ensure that he remained safe, and hopefully reason with his insanity. This last thought simply pained her. He was going to get them both killed.
"Where will we be going?" she asked, having made up her mind.
Is this alright? she asked Thorn. You asked me to choose what we what we do. This is what I choose, but it is right?
The dragon behind her rose up in answer and stepped over to her side, his large head snaking into view. If it's for the right reasons, was his simple answer.
Eragon started, and then leaned against Saphira as if he were suddenly weak. "We?"
"Yes," she said a little too slowly, puzzled over Thorn's comment. "Yes… Two Riders are much more formidable than one. As good as a tale it would make; it will take more than a lone Rider to take on the King's army to save your dream woman. You going alone would be like handing yourself to the King on a gilded platter."
"You can't come." He shook his head.
"I cannot or you don't want me to?" she said tightly. "You can try to stop me from following you but all the same you'd be safer with me than if you went off alone. I know more of the Empire's inner workings than you."
Eragon grumbled to himself, then straightened. "Fine, you can come," he said. "But be quick. We should leave before the night grows any older."
Rose quickly walked through their rough camp and scrambled through her bags, sorting through what she might need. With the flickering campfire as her light, she wrote a quick and rather hasty message to Selena and Brom, telling them what had happened that night and to continue with their quest south, if not for theirselves than for the remaining dragon egg. Then she tucked it into the food bag, where she was certain one of them would find it. After that she sorted through the rest of the packs, and picking out a small purse of coins that had once belonged to Tornac (it certainly was of little use to him now), she turned to Eragon and told him that she was ready.
He nodded, taking her bag from her, and asked if she had a saddle for Thorn. Rose simply shook her head, knowing that he could see the movement even in the dim light. After muttering something that sounded like an oath, Eragon assisted her onto the saddle which rested on the dip between Saphira's shoulder blades. Before climbing up after her, he tied their bags firmly to the leather saddle and tugged on them to test his knots' strength. Soon after he climbed on behind her, Saphira took off into the night with a mighty bound and soared into the mist covered night, Thorn following not far behind.
They kept a steady pace through the remainder of the night. Even as the red glow of the sun painted the sky, slowly returning color to the land below, they continued landing only when an hour before noon. Then Saphira dived out of mist, the wind whipping their skin until it was pink and felt as cold as a brick, and landed gracefully inside a grove of trees.
Rose, having been in a numb trance of exhaustion moments earlier, slithered off the dragon's back, and walked quickly over to Thorn. He had landed moments after Saphira, his breathing was deep and uneven, and his wings drooped. She stared at him for a moment before sighing. What now?
The question felt meaningless and unresolvable; she did not know what propelled her to choosing to go with Eragon. She knew only that it felt right, as it did when she had chosen to travel to Teirm. She shook herself, and looked around the circling of trees. They didn't look to be anywhere near a town, and despite what they were doing, she had hoped for a place with proper beds, but alas, that apparently was too much to ask.
A pale-yellow light suffused the sky with gentle radiance as Rose gathered kindling to prepare a meal, having been refused in assisting Eragon unburden Saphira. Then as Eragon finished, he brought over a pot filled with water from the stream and, much to Rose's delight, a small bag filled with provisions. Neither of them talked as they cut up vegetables and some tough, dried meat to add to the water, letting the sounds of the fire fill the emptiness that their silence left.
Rose felt far too tired to think, nonetheless speak, and the stew, after it had finished was eaten without a word. After the meal was finished, neither of them felt like cleaning away the dishes and they were abandoned near the fire, they spread out their bedroll, away from the few patches of remaining snow, and slept under the trees, curled up in their blankets and cloaks, with the dragons sleeping close by. All of them slept deeply, without dreams and woke refreshed, as if their troubles had loosened its grip in those few hours.
)()()()(
Rose sat down on the dew-damp grass, nestling herself deeper into the bushes and stared out on the road winding before her, which now looked emptier than it had before. The only thing accompanying the road was still brown puddles and stray animals- chickens, pigs, goats, and a few stray cattle. She had found, not without a great amount of relief, that they were not far from a village, and that she could see its trails of silvery curling smoke rising out warmed chimneys, even from the distance. The village stood between the slopes of two reasonably large hills, leaving more than one of the buildings leaning or fallen over completely when their supporting beams gave out with age. The hillsides theirselves sloped around the village, casting its streets in early shadows.
After a time of watching to see how much traffic the road was getting, she had decided that though the road was not very well traveled it was in the least travel enough that two more travelers wouldn't stand out too horribly much. Rose turned away and followed her footprints back to their encampment. When she had left the encampment, Eragon was still soundly asleep. Rose turned to him, now he was awake, and sat down on the edge of the sputtering fire. He tossed a pinecone into the fire. The flames, dancing and rebuking with an angry whistle, eat up the pinecone.
"Where did you go?" he asked, not looking up.
"I found a town," Rose said. "I think that it would be best if go there and bought some supplies."
"What do we need?" Eragon frowned and tossed another pinecone into the fire. "Other than some basic provisions, we have plenty of supplies."
She leaned away from the fire as it sputtered glowing sparks at her. "We need a map, for one thing, and whatever news the townspeople might have," she said. "Perhaps we'll hear word about your dream woman."
Eragon gave her a rather measured look before he nodded. "You're right," he said eventually. "Any information the townspeople might have would be helpful but we don't need a map. I know where we are going."
"Oh, and where might that be?" Rose looked at him surprise. This was certainly news to her. Here she had been thinking that he was going on a directionless adventure to see if he would get killed or not.
Eragon pursed his lips slightly, and a crease formed between his brows. "North," he said seriously.
"Where north?"
Eragon shrugged. "Just north."
Tapping her fingers on her knee, Rose slowly shook her head. "All the same," she said evenly, "I would like a map."
"How are we going to pay for the map?" Eragon walked over to the fire and slowly began to put out the fire with hands full of dirt. The frames gasped in complaint before retreating into their coals, and only then did Eragon straighten himself. He wiped the dirt off on his trousers. "I didn't bring any coins to pay for anything. I didn't plan on having to stop anywhere."
"I have it taken care of."
Eragon didn't question her any further and they sorted through the bags, repacking one of the bags into another, to make further space for anything they might get. Then after waking Thorn, who had been lightly slumbering before, and telling him where they were heading and why, they wandered into forest. The trees in the underbrush were prickly and bare, as they had yet to lose the chilling air to the warmer months of spring as it had further south. Neither of them talked, and when they did it was to remark on something trivial and their words hung in the empty air. The land around them seemed to forbid such chatter and very soon they said nothing at all.
Upon reaching the town, they drifted through the streets, peeping briefly through the grimy windows of shops with squinting eyes. They passed more animals on the roads then people; sheep would saunter up to them, their tails wagging comically. Rose looked into their strange silver eyes, and clasped her hands firmly together as she followed Eragon closer than before. When they didn't see a map-maker's shop, many of the shop windows were darkened indicating that they were closed down for the evening, and they were only able to stop into a workshop to buy some buckskin, they decided to give up all together and found their way to the local tavern.
"If there's any place to hear about the on-goings it'd be at the tavern," said Eragon, stooping to scratch a cat's heads as they walked back down the main road. The grey tabby cat, opened its yellow eyes and snuggled deeper into a coil of rope.
"I suppose so," Rose said in hesitant agreement, then they walked into a thatched building with a rather creaky door.
They called for food and wine and sat down at a table near a group of exultant men. For a time, the travelers listened to the men's nonsense and jokes and drunken calls their way, however after a time, when Rose beginning to feeling very tempted to leave, she heard something that caught her interest.
"Them shields are trailing this area again. Been watchin' fer something, like ah eagle watchin' fer its prey, and are vigilant 'bout it too," said a rather large man, with a missing eye but despite this he gave off the air of well-being. His stocky legs were stretched out under the wooden table and his hands were folded over his mass of a belly. "Imma ah tellin' yeh, Barric, they been watchin' fer somethin' and it an't our doing. Keep them boys o' yours outta their way."
A rod of a man nodded, and said, "Yes, yes. We've seen 'em. Me boys know, you an't got to worry about that."
"It's those beasts from the mountains fault," another said accusingly. "I'm tellin' you if it weren't for them we'd still have Trowbridge to trade with and we'd all be better off. They came through like a savage army, I tell you. Lucky you weren't here to see it. Nasty brutes that they were."
"What'd they come down fer?" the one-eyed man asked, leaning forward. "They an't got no business 'round here. Them beasts, I means."
The second man shrugged. "They're gone now," he said. "That's all I care about."
The men's conversation moved on to other things, and soon the travelers left. Rose remained quiet, more so than she was before, something about what the men said disturbed her, although she couldn't say why. A vague foreboding weighed upon her spirit, though there was little reason for it. She was glad of the distraction when they arrived at their encampment, and she was able to turn her troubles over to Thorn.
.
The next morning met them much sooner, and colder, than what any of them felt it ought to have the right to. Rose, who would not be awake if it were not for the rigorous scheduling over the last weeks, stood, rubbing her hands together as she waited for the wood to catch fire. She looked across the encampment, where both of the dragons lay with watching eyes, and saw two boots sticking out from beneath Saphira's wing. It was there that Eragon had huddled the night before and still he had yet to rise and meet the day. Frowning, she turned away.
Currently she didn't care if Eragon was in an urgency or not, she felt the cold in her bones and her belly ached with hunger. In her desperation, she had pulled out cubes of stringy meat, left over from the night before, and added them into the pot of water, which she set by the fire to warm. Then she scavenged through the food bag and looked at the meager supply of vegetables with a ping of uncertainty. More could be gotten at a later time, she reasoned and then unceremoniously dumped the greens into the pot.
It would be some time before the stew would be done and knowing this, Rose walked around the camp. Gently probed Thorn to tell him where she was going, she slung her bag over her shoulder and buckled her sword to her waist. He was laying in-between two rather large fir trees, and said nothing in return but sent her a tendril of acknowledgment instead.
There were still times, even though they could commutate in words, when any form of language didn't seem accurate enough to the dragon. At times he preferred the emotions and images. These moments hadn't increased any in the passing months, nor have they decreased, but still it seemed to happen far too often, and knowing this Rose frowned. He is such a lazy thing today, she thought lightly as she stepped into the treeline.
Asper and elm towered over a winding rough deer trail. In several places tree roots protruded from the ground, and she had to carefully step around these. She wasn't necessarily worried about getting lost, it was not a long way to her destination and even from where she stood she could hear the gentle sigh of water.
As she got closer, she paid less attention to the path and began to jog. Rose was eager to reach the riverbed and wash the grime from her skin, and change into fresh clothing and so when she stumbled, it startled her. She righted herself on a tree's massive trunk, her bag bounced against her head, and straightening herself, she found that her foot had caught on a carved stone. Beside it was another and another, forming a line that crossed the tiny deer track and weaved straight into the underbrush beyond where it disappeared from sight. It seemed to her that the stone wall was probably a marker of some sort, perhaps, a way to tell one's land from another's. Curious she pulled some the scrubs away and found that the tiny, crooked wall of stones continued on both ways away of the track but she had no desire to follow it, and turned away.
It was not far until she reached the creek thickly tented by skeletal trees, and once there she unloaded her pack and sorted through it, pulling out only what she needed, and then unbuckled her sword and letting it drop to the ground. Without further delay, she rushed the waterside, her skin itching, and found a safe place to bathe herself. She quickly undressed, and sat herself on the edge of the sloop, her feet resting in the cool water. The water stung her toes and feet, sending a thrill through her.
With a rag, this she pulled out from her bag, she began to scrub the dirt off her skin. Her mind focused solely on what she doing. After she had washed her skin, she dipped her hair into the water. Her feet prickled in the cool air, and hurriedly she dressed and wrapped her dripping hair in a spare shirt. It felt refreshing to have clean skin, and hair, despite the cold of the water. She felt fully alert and more than ready to eat the stew.
As she walked back, she allowed her thoughts to wonder in places she hadn't before now.
She had been fully aware what she was doing when she left with Eragon, despite how foolish it was. She knew of the dangers she was facing, and her lack of knowledge to face them but she couldn't bring herself to turn away. If anything happened to her or Thorn during this trip it was her fault, and hers alone. Eragon could hardly be blame for the dirt beneath his shoe with the state he had been in.
Rose frowned. She didn't know when or how she had begun to care for her brother, only that she had. He had been abandoned just as she had been, faced his lot of bad luck and was facing them still. He was as much of a victim to fate as she was, though he seemed to have gotten the better cut of childhood than she had- she preferred her own past to whatever it was that he was going through now. The past was gone and done but this moment in time was not.
She was fairly certain that he was merely going through a bout of illness and would waken from it soon enough. Yet another part her wondered if Eragon was right about this woman; what if she was real? If she were and Eragon was right, that could mean something entirely different, and if this was the case than how were they going to rescue her?
Rose frowned in confusion, then shook her head. Stopping at the small stone wall, she pondered on following it to see where it led but shook her head, deciding against it. There could very well be a cabin at the end of the wall, and they might not take her wondering onto their land well. She stepped over the miniature wall and kept walking.
Rose let her mind drift further, to a place she had been avoiding in the last weeks. She was more than willing to bet that the King knew of her and Thorn; Thorn had all but announced their presence to the whole of Alagaësia when he rescued her and Cai away from those massacring soldiers. She did not regret him doing so, she didn't know where she would be now without him.
That was the last time she had taken a chance without much thought into her reasoning and it had ended rather badly. She dearly hoped the past would not repeat itself now, she could not bear the thought that what she was doing now might led to another death. It was that event, her leaving for Teirm that alimentally led to Tornac's death. She was certain that if she had stayed at Haven Cove, he would still be alive.
Her eyes begun to string and angrily wiped at her cheeks until the feeling ceased. When it did, she turned her thoughts to Dunion and his family. She fiercely hoped that they had gotten away from the Empire soldiers and if not that they were dead. Rose had seen what the King permits as punishment for criminals and traitors, and without a doubt she did not wish that on anyone. She sometimes wondered what had happened to them; where they were now and what they were doing.
Biting her lip, she thought that, hopefully, one day Cai would be able to meet up with his family once more. The kid would probably hate her for ages for leaving him alone with people he did not know, but why should she care? She did what had to be done. Hopefully, though, when or if Cai was returned to his family that it would a happy affair with no lies or ploys. That kid didn't need feel as if he didn't know himself anymore.
Rounding a corner she saw, with a slight surprise, that the trail ended and the wood thinned around a small valley. She could see the back of Eragon's head poking out from behind Saphira's bulk, and Thorn as lifted his head in greeting. He didn't mindtouch her, and she was more than thankful for it. Had Thorn tried to talk to her, he would know what she had been thinking about. The events on the coast were something, they had silently decided not to speak about as neither of them saw it in a positive light.
Forcing the thoughts away, she made her way forward and greeted them as she rounded around Saphira who was watching Eragon very closely. Rose looked over and saw that Eragon had hacked the buckskin to shreds, and was now looking over it very carefully. "If I knew that you were going to destroy it, I wouldn't have spent my coin," she said.
Eragon looked up from the mess of leather pieces that lay out before him. "I haven't" he said in a rather solemn tone. "I'm making a saddle for Thorn. Saphira gets tired too quickly when we both flying on her, and you don't have one for Thorn. It will make things easier for all of us."
"Oh," she said, looking at him surprise and dared a glance in the Thorn's direction. He looked far too smug than he ought to have the right to be. "I'm certain Thorn will thank you. How might I assist?"
Eragon frowned as he thought over what she could do but he was slightly at a loss. He remembered, for the most part, how to make a saddle and he had Saphira to correct him when he got it wrong, but the leather was different than the one he had learned and he had very little skill with leatherworking itself. "You can punch holes along here," he said after a moment, and then showed her what needed to be done. "Then it will need to be stitched together."
Rose nodded in understanding and after serving herself a bowl of stew, she returned, taking out a small hunting knife and set to work, taking small sips out of the stew every so often. Though it was not long until she forgot about the soup altogether and lost herself in her work. Needle working was something she was used to, often lost herself in, and found that puncturing the leather subdued some of her reserved anger.
"Where did you grow up?" Eragon asked after some time.
Rose looked up and found that he was watching her. She frowned at him, annoyed at being interrupted. "I'd rather that you didn't know."
There was a long pause during which she returned to her work, and heard much to her relief, Eragon do the same. "I'm your brother," Eragon stated. His voice was hard. "I have the right to know. I should not have to ask where you were raised or what your life was like a year ago. I should already know these things."
Rose set the knife aside with a ping of regret, then picked up the thin straps and began to weave them through the holes as she had been instructed. "We were not raised together," she said cuttingly. "Considering this it'd be rather strange if you did know."
"Well, we should have been."
Rose felt a sinking feeling, as if all the blood had drained out of her body. She shook her head trying to clear it but she knew he was right; it was odd how they could be brother and sister and yet complete strangers. A part of her burned to know the boy in front of her, surely it could do them no harm. "My given name is Muirgheal," she said quietly after a moment. "You should know that if nothing else."
"I thought your name was 'Rose,'" said Eragon, confusion drawn clearly in his voice.
Her frown deepened and despite herself she looked up at him. Eragon wasn't looking at her, but at his work though what exactly he was doing was beyond her. "'Rose' is my usename," she told him. "I prefer not to be called by my given name. I don't know why I made the choice but I was young and so whatever reasoning is now long forgotten."
Thorn huffed from somewhere behind her, and she turned to look at him. He shifted his wings and blinked uninterestedly at her. He then stood, in slow and rather indolent movements, before mindtouching her just enough where it felt as if he were but a tickle in her thoughts. I'm going to fly for a while. Call for me when you're done, he said.
She could sense that he was leaving for a different reason than he was saying, she turned back to her work. Take care, Thorn.
Thorn simply snorted through their mindtouch and then took to the sky with the thundering of his wings.
"Where were you raised, then?" he asked again.
Rose debated about telling him, and then, she said in a rather sardonic tone, "Within the high and mighty Courts of Urû'baen."
There was a quick intake of breath. "You were brought up within Galbatorix's castle?"
"It's not like I choose where I would be fostered." Rose huffed but did not look up, continuing on with the work before her. "It's not as if I was ever given the choice. Just as you were left in Carvahall by our mother, I was abandoned to the King's Courts by our father. I know you hate the King, Eragon, but I'm not an outcome of his influence. I met him only once and I'd rather not repeat that particular event."
A silence formed over them, overruled only by birdsong, and Rose turned back to her work and leaned away from him, suddenly wishing she hadn't told him a thing.
Once again it was Eragon who broke the silence between them. "What happened with the King?"
Rose considered telling him but after his reaction, she merely shook her head, and changed the subject. If they were going to speak of something, it might as well be something of use. "That's hardly important," she said. "What's your plan, Eragon? You had said yesterday that you knew where to go but where is this place?"
"I'm not certain," he admitted, looking uncertainly at his hands, and Rose felt her breath come out in a rush. Of course, he didn't know; how could he? He was chasing a haunt and she was tagging along for the ride. "I know which way we ought to go, but anything beyond that I'm not sure. Just north."
Rose felt like cursing, not at him but herself, she had hoped he had some sort of idea so that they could get back to traveling south sooner rather than later. She didn't like the risk of being so close to the Empire's bases. Looking around hopelessly, she bit her lip as she thought. "By the spirits!" she said in frustration. "We need a map! Something, anything, to look at and to chart where we are at and where we need to go. That strange calling of yours may work for a time, Eragon, but we need to logical about this or we'll only get ourselves into trouble." She huffed, tossing down the leather piece she was working on. Best get this over with, she thought to herself. The sooner they did, the sooner they could put distance between them and the Empire. "Cellwair and Gil'ead are your best chances, but as I've warned you before, it's a death sentence to merely try to break someone out of there, and should we be caught, well, I don't fancy returning to Urû'baen. If this woman is real, we'll have to be careful about how and when we do this."
"Be careful about doing what?" Eragon frowned, his eyebrows nearly covering his eyes. He knew, she knew he did, he was just not willing to admit what he was thinking.
"Saving your dream woman," she said, glancing down at the leather. It had dirt smudged on it, and slowly she picked it up and dusted it off. "You wish to play hero, so you shall. Anyhow, you might as well, we're here now, and I, for one, am not looking forward to hearing what Selena or Brom have to say to us upon our return."
Eragon started, as if this was the first time he thought about what they might say, and shivered slightly. "Neither am I," he agreed.
After a short silence, they began to talk, this time it seemed that both Saphira and Thorn something to say, about their plans and where they should go, and what they might need- Eragon agreed to find a map after much badging on Rose's part. It took most of the remainder of the day, but once the saddle was finished, so was their planning.
