Chapter 3 – Rickard I

When Nasuada and Murtagh's image vanished from the surface of the mirror, Arya and Eragon were left speechless. In the Eyrie, where Arya held her conferences as Mount Arngor's governor, they both didn't know what to do.

Finally, after a good minute of introspection, Eragon was the first one to react to the news.

"I don't think they thought it through," he said and sat on her desk as she reclined in her chair.

"Don't judge them, Eragon. The situation is hard enough."

He raised his shoulders as to excuse himself for thinking that another child for Nasuada and Murtagh was a bad idea.

"Besides," she continued, "a child is always welcomed." Her voice was weak as she had a hard time believing that herself.

"If you say so…"

Eragon stood up and grabbed the papers Arya had just signed so he could take them to the docks, where Oswald was waiting.

"Wait," Arya said as she approached him, putting her hands around his neck.

He stared at her eyes, waiting for her to say the simple words that would soothe his raging thoughts like she always did. He could feel inside their shared consciousness the words forming, quiet yet efficient.

"Trust your brother. I know you worry about what could happen to Nasuada after another risky pregnancy, I worry as well, but Murtagh would never let anything happen to her. Not after being the Eldunarí's keeper while you were away and gathering all the knowledge required to keep her and Eric safe."

"That was only for a few weeks, five years ago. For as knowledgeable as he is, Nasuada is still human, a mature woman. There are limits to what magic can do when it comes to mortality, don't you think?"

Arya lowered her eyes, but her hand grabbed the back of his head more firmly. She agreed with him, he could tell. Nasuada could've prevented another pregnancy, she could've contented with only one child, so she would have more chances of living longer. They both feared for her life.

"Trust your brother," she whispered as she tugged on his hair softly. "Just do it, for you, and me."

Eragon knew that his state of mind influenced the mood of all three of them, Arya, Fírnen, and Saphira, of course. He couldn't afford to dwell on that too much, or they would all spend sleepless nights together.

"I'll do my best," he said before brushing his lips on hers and escaping her hands to get on with his day.

The old sailor was ready to depart as he picked his nails with a dagger sitting on the bow of his boat.

"Oswald!" Eragon called, carrying a bag full of letters.

"Oh, hello, Shadeslayer! I was only waiting for you."

"I'm sorry I'm late. I just received some concerning news."

"About the queen's pregnancy?" Oswald asked casually, as he was only making small talk.

As Eragon passed him the bag, a crease formed in his forehead.

"How in the world do you know about that already?"

The man displayed his most characteristic toothless smile.

"I have my sources, you know?"

In fact, Eragon knew it very well and often took advantage of it. He simply nodded and instructed Oswald on how to deliver the letters and when. He bid the man farewell, but only after he heard a bad omen coming from the sailor's lips.

"I wouldn't worry about that child's birth, Shadeslayer. Worry about his or her life, for it could mean good fortune or war upon the land."

Inside his mind, Eragon felt a rush of peaceful thoughts coming from all three of his companions as they tried to placate his anxiety.

"How about I don't worry at all, huh?"

The man smiled again and patted hard on his shoulder, living there a sore spot.

"That's even better!"

For the months that followed, Eragon worried only about his garden and the barley crops, or he liked to think that he did. Even his students seemed more relaxed now that their master chose to teach from the fields. They followed him around, taking notes as he worked the land and spoke about the world. He put aside all method and simply taught what he knew.

One day, after he said goodbye to two of his students as they flew away on their dragons from the front yard of his treehouse, Eragon felt the hammer pendant hitting up against the skin of his chest. He already knew what it was.

Sitting in front of the mirror in the living room, he watched as a happy Murtagh appeared, with tears in his eyes.

"It's another boy, brother. We named him Rickard."

"Nasuada?"

Murtagh's features lit up even more as he confirmed that she was well, healthier than ever.

Eragon felt all his muscles relax for the first time in almost nine months.

"Should we expect your visit?" Murtagh asked.

Eragon promised himself that he would never get back to Alagaësia again, and that promise was supported by Saphira's will to keep all that they suffered in that land in the past. Murtagh already knew that before he asked the question.

"I had to ask," he said with his gray eyes shimmering with painful joy.

Saphira landed near the river just as Eragon ended the conversation. She waited patiently for him to join her.

"All is well," he said as she lay down so they could enjoy the twilight together.

I told you it would be.

"Aye, but you didn't know that. It was only wishful thinking." He sat down next to her.

You are so used to expecting trouble that you cannot see the good times coming anymore.

Instinctively, he rubbed the scar on his chest over the shirt.

"That's what I do, prepare for the worst, so the people won't have to suffer."

All right, guardian of the world, she mocked him, but her tone went serious again, what tragedies await in the future?

Eragon took a deep breath.

"Nasuada won't last forever."

And? Isn't that expected?

He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't define but decided to let it aside.

"And it's too soon to worry about that."

Easy to say, hard to do, he thought.

Wise words, little one.

Eragon rested his body against hers and watched the day ending on the horizon. All was well, and he had nothing to worry about.

A/N: Hello!

Working on this story is helping me organize the other one "This blood of mine", so expect the chapters here to come faster.

If you're confused about the dates, consider this chapter happening 4 years after the last one, and 5 after the last chapter of "Of Poems and Maps", not counting the epilogue.

So, it would be:

- "Of Poems" last chapter – 20 years after Inheritance.

- Vanir becomes king – 21 years after Inheritance.

- Rickard I is born – 25 years after Inheritance.

- "Of Poems" end of last chapter (The Games) – 30 years after Inheritance.

I hope to see you guys soon. Take care!