Eragon had all but collapsed into the bedding he used in the Dragonhold, only barely managing to remove Saphira's saddle he did. Saphira curled up tightly, her body coiled around the bag hold the dragon egg. They both slept long and deep, but Eragon's waking dreams mostly consisted of flashes from the battle with his brother. He woke up the next day tired, his muscles still aching, so he set about completing the first three poses of the Rimgar. He briefly thought about doing the fourth level, but turned his mind against it. He was flexible, more so than he used to be, but he struggled on most days to maintain the stretch.
Saphira was still resting, unmoved from when she had curled up. Once he was done stretching he bathed himself and shaved, before setting about finding some cleaner clothing to wear. His personal grooming habits complete, Eragon gently stroked Saphira's snout, his hands running softly over her warm scales. Checking to make sure she was still sleeping, Eragon quietly exited the hold, making sure to not let the door slam behind him.
It was as he was walking down the staircase did he run into Arya. She greeted him quickly, and Eragon asked, "Something you needed, Arya?"
She glanced around the staircase for a moment, before asking, "Where is Saphira? Are you two heading somewhere?"
Eragon shook his head, "She's still resting. The battle and flight afterwards took their toll."
When she glanced about his person, Eragon said, "The egg is safe. No one is stupid enough to take an egg from a sleeping dragon."
Arya nodded, gesturing for him to continue down the staircase. He did so, raising his eyebrow as she followed. "You never answered my question, Arya. Is there something you require?"
He couldn't see her, for she was descending the stairs behind him, her feet light upon the ground, "Nay. I merely wished to speak with you."
"Ah," Eragon said. "I'm always up for some company. What, then, do you wish to speak of?"
She was quiet as they came upon the ground level, and Eragon turned down one of the hallways. After a fashion did she finally voice her question, "Did you find it hard to speak with Brom after so many years?"
Her question puzzled him, as did the sensitive nature of such. Elves rarely spoke of such things with others, save Glenwing, who was perhaps the strangest elf Eragon had ever met. Arya had asked probing questions before, but nothing so personal. He thought about his answer as they walked down the various hallways, ending up finally on the street. His feet carried them off, his destination not known to him, but Arya made no remark as they continued.
"After two hundred years without speaking, certainly. I was worried of how he would accept my disappearance, nervous to see what had become of him since Saphira and I left. I knew that we had to speak, for such things left unsaid can widen the distance between us. My father was always quick to anger, but he has always been a kind man." Eragon continued after a brief pause, "Even now, despite the air of sadness that surrounds him, he's still mostly the same person inside."
"You've given this much thought." Arya replied. He nodded at her, seeing her brows furrowed. She wasn't looking at him, but staring straight ahead, her eyes clouded in her thoughts.
"Why do you ask?" Eragon questioned. She frowned, but Eragon sensed it wasn't at him.
He didn't know if she would answer, but if his own gave her something that she needed he would be glad enough.
"My mother," Arya began, "Was not the most supportive of my joining of the Varden."
Eragon said quickly, "I mean no offense, nor do I mean to contradict what you say, but she seemed proud of you when she and I talked."
"You talked about me with my mother?" Arya said, her eyes finally meeting his. Eragon cringed slightly before he straightened his expression once more.
"Only after I learned that Ev-." He broke off, "excuse me. Only when I learned that your father had a daughter, really. Saphira and I were most surprised to hear of your birth. He always talked often of having a child, and we were most eager to meet you." He had stopped himself earlier from speaking Evandar's name, even as they conversed in the ancient language. Arya's identity as the Queens daughter was a closely held secret, after all.
"Oh," she said. "You wanted to meet me because of my father?"
He could sense an undercurrent there, but he had no idea where it led. He merely answered, "At first, certainly. But now that I know you I'm glad to call you my friend."
She took the words in silence, and Eragon turned them down another avenue. He still had no idea where he was heading, but he was glad for the company at least.
"How long has it been since you and your mother last talked?" Eragon asked.
"We communicate through our missives," Arya said, her words quiet, "As our duties demand. But face to face? Nearly seventy years."
"A long time, then." Eragon said. Nearly longer than most men lived, at the very least.
"Not as long as two hundred years." Arya responded.
"I think you'll find," Eragon intoned, "that the difference is not as grand as you might think. Again, Arya, I mean no offense in this, but your kind has a very weird sense of time."
She titled her head at him, curiosity rising in her tone, "How so?"
"In some instances, you place too much meaning on the passage of time. Others, very little. Two hundred years is longer then seventy, yes, but matters like these don't just fade with time, not if we let them fester. Enough time can pass that the memory is fainter, but recalling it can easily make the feelings resurface," Eragon said. He watched her as she listened to him, and he could feel her gaze on his face.
"There is truth in your words," Arya admitted, "But I am still unclear when you say that we elves have a weird sense of time."
His glanced out to the side of him, taking in those that they passed on their walk. "Elves and humans see time flow differently. I'm one of the few left that has walked among both races, and I can see the differences plainly, and I'm sure you have as well. The elves think that humans are fickle, but they don't seem to grasp that they are that way because they need to be."
"You sound as if you don't consider yourself human anymore," Arya said. Whether or not Arya agreed with the statement he couldn't tell.
"Do I? I once told Glenwing that I was stuck." Eragon murmured, "Stuck between your kind and my own. Too long lived to be human, too human to be elf."
Arya he saw, glanced at the tips of his ears, taking in his elven appearance. "You do not sound bitter about it, if what you say is true."
"I know my lot in life," Eragon stated. Even to his own ears the words sounded rehearsed.
Their conversation seemed to draw to a close, as neither made any move to continue it. Eragon never changed his stride and Arya easily kept pace with him, weaving through the city together. They were passing various stalls now, merchants and their products on display. People bustled around them, the conversations loud and coins changing hands. Eragon was peering around the crowd, his eyes taking in everything and nothing at the same time. It wasn't until he caught sight of familiar curly hair did he stop. Blinking, Eragon moved toward the short statured woman, a small sense of excitement building in him.
He came up behind her as she was browsing a stall, and Eragon could feel Arya follow behind.
"Angela!" Eragon yelled into her ear, startling the woman. "So good to see you!"
The witch jumped and twisted, her arm flying up to smack his head. He easily ducked under it before he stepped back, bumping slightly into Arya as he did. "Bonehead!" Angela exclaimed, moving forward as if to strike at him again.
Eragon laughed deeply, his hands clutching his stomach in mirth. Arya moved to side of him, the soft leather of her tunic sliding against his own as it did.
When Angela continued her advance did Eragon hold his hands up, smile bright on his face.
The witch stopped and narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, before saying, "Your supposed to be dead."
Blinking, Eragon returned, "And you don't look any older than the last time I saw you, witch."
She smiled at him before turning to Arya her eyes curious as she looked at the pair, "Ambassador, a pleasure, as always."
Arya inclined her head, stating, "Wise One."
The title drew a frown from Eragon as he glanced between the two, surprised that Arya knew Angela. "What are you doing here, Angela?"
"The same as you, I suspect," Angela said, "You know how I like to find myself near interesting events, and seems I was right. A Rider coming back from the dead is certainly not what I would have expected."
"You offering your services to the Varden is not something I would have expected either," Eragon replied, "I would say that we both have been surprised by the twisting currents of fate."
"Indeed," Angela grinned. "It seems dying has taught you something after all. No longer are you the clumsy fool, falling all over yourself in your haste to prove yourself a man."
Eragon felt his ears warm at her comment. Angela was always able to get under his skin, but he knew it was Angela's odd way of complimenting him. "I wasn't dead," Eragon admitted, "Saphira and I left Alagaësia. We only just returned a few months ago."
"Oh," Angela sounded, "Saphira is alive? Well, I must go visit her. And you, dear Rider, must tell me of your travels. Such things should never be kept to yourself. Especially when fate seems to move whenever you decide to take a step."
"How did you know?" Eragon questioned, his eyes narrowed at the witch. Arya seemed slightly confused at his query, so Eragon said, "She knows about the egg."
Arya blinked at the witch, but did not seem surprised that Angela knew. The small woman merely chuckled, "I have my ways. I must get going, though. There's dragons to meet, and dwarves to question."
The witch bid them goodbye, turning away and disappearing quickly into the crowd. Eragon thought about her remark of dwarves for a second before he dismissed it. Angela was confusing at the best of times, and Eragon had long since given up trying to figure the woman out. That she was still alive two hundred years later was certainly a surprise, though.
As they stood there, Arya asked, "How did you know that she knew about the egg?"
Shaking his head, Eragon said, "A hunch. She's always somehow known what I've done the moment it's happened."
"That's disconcerting," Arya remarked.
Eragon snorted, "That's one way of putting it."
Arya made to motion to him, but her hand paused in the air. Her face grew still, and Eragon realized that she was communicating with her mind. It was a terse moment before she turned to Eragon, her features drawn serious. "Somethings wrong. Ajihad's called a meeting."
She turned away and Eragon quickly followed, his mind rushing out towards Saphira. She hadn't contacted him, but his worry over the egg and her pushed at him. He felt her mind, far above him in the dragonhold, and he was relieved that she seemed calm.
Little-one? Saphira asked. She could feel his emotions and sensed that Eragon was not merely greeting her.
Ajihad called a meeting. Eragon explained, Arya's only said that somethings wrong. We are on our way now.
Do you have your blade? Saphira asked. He could feel her shaking off the lingering drowsiness that clung to her.
Eragon palmed Brisingr by his side, responding, yes. I'll meet you in the council chambers.
She sent her agreement, and Eragon withdrew his mind.
"Do you know what it is?" Eragon asked.
Arya shook her head, her movements swift as she dodged around the various members of the Varden. People seemed to realize that they were moving with a purpose, stepping aside as the Rider and elf strode through. She increased her speed slightly, and Eragon followed behind. "Glenwing only said that Ajihad sounded worried. He's called the barracks into action, and sent a runner to Hrothgar."
That's not good, Eragon thought. There were no alarms ringing in the mountain-city, nor were people panicking yet, so Eragon knew that at the very least they weren't under siege currently.
Arya led him through the various avenues, and Eragon let her guide him to the council chambers.
They stepped inside quickly, guards admitting them entrance as soon as they approached. Inside, Eragon could see the bustle of movement as people ran around, and he heard the sharp voice of Jörmundur as he ordered various commanders to ready their people. The soldiers ran out past him, barely acknowledging the Rider and elf as they exited the room. He could sense a hint of unease, in the room, but none paid him or Arya mind as they entered.
He spied Orik in the room, stroking his beard as he listened to another dwarf beside him. Orik responded, the words short and lost among the cacophony of others. The other dwarf nodded, before he too left swiftly through the doors. Nasuada was next to her father, listening intently to the advisors that were speaking to Ajihad. Saphira was in the room, and Brom was standing next to her, shocking Eragon for a moment. He made his way over to his father, Arya following his movements.
"Father," Eragon called out. Brom turned to him, and they clasped arms in greeting. His father nodded to Arya, who inclined her head in greeting. "When did you get back?"
"Just now," Brom replied. "I'm afraid that I'm the reason for all this." He gestured at the council, all of whom were talking quickly to others, various reports and soldiers a now constant stream through the door.
"What's going on?" Arya asked. The tension had not left her face, Eragon saw, and he could see lines appearing as her expression tightened further.
"Urgals," Brom quietly responded.
It took a while for the hustle of the council to slow, and Eragon remained standing next to Brom. Arya had joined Ajihad, listening and responding as the man spoke to countless others. Glenwing had joined his side not long after, merely waiting next to the father and son. Fäolin stood a small distance away from them, but did not join Arya as she conversed with the members of the Varden.
It was only after a moment of concern did he turn to Saphira, question poised in his mind, where's the egg?
Saphira turned to him and opened her mouth. Inside, Eragon saw, the leather bag of the egg was resting gently on her tongue. That doesn't look comfortable.
Saphira blinked at him, but closed her mouth, hiding the egg from view. Brom was watching the whole time, silent as he stood there. Until we know exactly what is happening, I will hold on to the egg.
Eragon nodded, relieved that the egg was safe. What will we do if we need to fight? We can't take the egg into battle.
We might have to, Saphira responded, there are not many among the Varden I would trust with the last egg. The elves, certainly, but they may wish to fight as well.
Eragon glanced at Fäolin standing to the side, then to Glenwing. It might be the best choice. If we have Fäolin and Glenwing guard it, I could fight knowing that it was safe.
What of Arya? Saphira asked, would she not want to stay with the egg?
His gazed settled onto the raven-haired elf, taking in her beautiful features as she stood surrounded by the men of the Varden. Even now, with the tension as high as it was, Eragon could see others glancing at her, their eyes showing hunger for a brief moment. Eragon turned his gaze away, watching Ajihad instead.
I imagine she would rather fight, Eragon said, but we can see what she says. Losing all three elves would dimmish the Varden's army. Even if it were just her or another of the elves, it would greatly aid us.
If we do have the elves guard it, they should do so under the Isidar Mithrim. It's the most defensible spot in the city. Saphira stated.
Eragon agreed, listening as Ajihad finally spoke loudly, calling for silence. "You have your duties, go now. Those of the council stay, we have much to discuss."
Eragon spotted various soldiers and scouts leave the room, as well as few more men Eragon didn't know. It wasn't long till only the Varden leader and his advisors remained, with Arya moving to her seat at the table. Eragon and Brom made their way forward, but the other elves stayed.
Sitting down next to his father, Eragon watched as Ajihad motioned for Brom to speak.
His father cleared his throat, "Some of you may know already, but I will go over what I told Ajihad earlier. There's an army of Urgals approaching Farthen Dûr, and there's reports as well that Durza is leading them."
Eragon turned to his father, concern growing in him, "Nothing on Murtagh?"
Brom shook his head. "No. From what I've been able to gather they are still in the city. No doubt punishment for their failure to retrieve the egg."
"Some good news, then," spat Orik. The dwarf's face was tense, his beard shaking as he spoke.
"Where are the Urgals at now?" Eragon asked, directing the question at Ajihad.
"In Ithrö Zhâda, according to the Dwarves. We knew that the Empire would attempt to strike at us, but Brom was the one who learned part of their plans," Ajihad responded.
You were always rather sneaky, Saphira said to Brom.
His father smiled, but said, "Apparently this plan has been in place for a while, but news of Durza's travel south was all I could manage. Easy enough to figure the Shade will come here at Galbatorix's command."
"We've already began to evacuate the woman and children. We have guides going with them, and they will take them all the way to Surda if we shall fall. There's tunnels leading out of the mountain far past where the Urgals are now, so they should be able to escape unnoticed," Jörmundur reported, his eyes scanning a scroll in front of him.
"We will have missive sent to the elves and to Orrin as well," Ajihad said, nodding to Arya, "They need to know what happening, in case the Varden falls."
"I will lead a company of soldiers," Jörmundur said, "as will Ajihad. The dwarves will lead their own into battle. We've few spellcasters, and we will need to spread them out carefully. We've determined that fighting in the tunnels will be best, and we have some dwarfs already working on collapsing tunnels."
"Aye," Orik said, "We can ensure that none get behind us. Narrowing their approach will certainly aid the fight."
"And what will you do, Eragon?" Ajihad asked. The Varden Leader was staring intently at Eragon, his eyes probing.
Eragon shrugged, "Kill some Urgals. Probably a Shade too, I could manage it."
None one seemed to take his jest, so Eragon sighed. "Saphira and I will assist as we can. Send word, and we can move with ease about the battle. Saphira can only fight so well in the smaller tunnels, so we will have to restrict our movements to the larger ones leading into the city."
"And the egg?" Ajihad asked. "What will you do with it?"
"Saphira and I already have a plan," Eragon said. "The less people know its where abouts, the better."
The council members stared at him, but on this Eragon would not budge. He trusted the Varden, but not all of the men Ajihad commanded could shield their minds, and a Shade was a powerful enough opponent to deal with.
"Fine," Ajihad said eventually, waving the matter aside. "The Urgal's will not be upon us for another two days, and there are preparations to be made, if you will excuse me."
Ajihad stood from the table, dismissing the group. Eragon stood as well, saying, "Arya, Fäolin, Glenwing, a moment, please. Saphira and I wish to speak with you."
The elves nodded, and Eragon waited as the others trickled out. Brom remained as well, still seated at the table. Eragon walked to Saphira, touching her scales gently as he stopped before her. The elves approached, and Brom turned in his seat, taking out a pipe before lighting it with a quick murmur. When the elves were around him, Eragon turned to Saphira.
She opened her mouth revealing the leather bag. Eragon reached in and removed it, gesturing for the elves to move in closer. "When the battle begins," Eragon started, "Saphira and I will fight. We will be needed at this battle, and neither of us wish to endanger the egg. Therefore-."
we want two of you to stay behind-
"With the egg, and wait under the-."
Isidar Mithrim, in the main-
"Hall, and to make sure that no-."
-one enters. Tell none of where you will-
"Be, and make sure to-."
"Stop!" Arya exclaimed. Her hand came to rest next to her head, "The two of you are speaking too quickly! We can't keep up." Brom was still seated, softly smoking his pipe, and Eragon could see a small smile appear on the older man's face.
Oh, Eragon thought. Saphira and him were speaking in turn, something they hadn't done in decades. They used to more often in the beginning, especially when their bond was growing, but they had since fallen out of the practice. Their minds still worked together, thoughts flowing quickly between, but they had gotten better at making sure only one of them spoke at a time.
"Right. Sorry," Eragon apologized, "As I was saying, we need two of you to protect the egg in the main hall under the Isidar Mithrim. The safety of the egg is of the utmost importance, and we would entrust this to no one else."
Arya was glancing between the two of them, her eyes dark. Glenwing and Fäolin recovered first, both bowing to the pair. Glenwing, speaking for both, said, "You honor us, Saphira Bjartskular, Eragon Shur'tugal, with such a task."
Arya said nothing, her eyes still locked on Eragon. He could not tell what she was thinking, but he was smart enough to not say anything. He wanted her to stay behind with egg, though it was hard for him to pin down why. Perhaps he trusted her the most, and knew that she was the most capable for the task. Another part of him, one long since buried, wanted her away from the fighting. He knew she would never want to be protected like that, but it did little to quell the urge.
Fäolin spoke, his tone the same as it usually was when it came to Eragon. "Glenwing and I will do it. We will make sure nothing happens to the egg. This we swear."
Glenwing nodded, swearing in the ancient language as well. Arya opened her mouth, only to close it silently.
Eragon nodded, "We thank you. We ask only that you tell no one of your charge, and to ensure you ward the hall. Allow entry to no one, save Arya, Brom, or Saphira and I."
The elves nodded, both of them agreeing with the situation. Nodding, Eragon felt Saphira rise behind him, her head lowered to the two elves.
You are charged with protecting the last hope of my kin, Saphira said, I could think of no two better suited to the task.
The bowed before Saphira, uttering their thanks. The dragon nodded her head, walking towards the exit of the chamber. Eragon followed after her, egg tucked safely in his hands.
The rest of the day past quickly, with Eragon assisting the Varden and dwarves where he could. He had grabbed Saphira's saddle from the dragonhold before, ensuring that the egg was tucked safely in the bag upon her back. He had removed the rest of the saddle bags save for the one holding the Eldunarí and egg, storing them to side.
The men were gathering their armor and weapons, and the dwarves were running down tunnels, making sure they were emptied before being collapsed. Only four tunnels total would remain open, with a company of soldiers to be stationed at each. Three were to the front, where the main bulk of Urgal's would no doubt arrive, while the fourth was a smaller one, used only for the evacuation and possible retreat if needed.
Eragon used spells to help move mounds of dirt and rock, building barricades in the tunnel for archers to use. Dwarves and men dug trenches with large wooden spikes to trap the enemy, and Saphira lend her help with moving some of the bigger siege weapons, her bulk pulling them with ease. It was a strange sight, watching a dragon tug on a chain, pulling at it like a dog would meat.
When he commented such to her, Saphira flattened him with her tail, pinning him to the ground. Only after Arya found him, murmuring softly to Saphira did she let him go. Eragon knew he was being silly, and quite possibly childish, but he and Saphira teased each other all time in order to help dispel any nerves that they had.
When Eragon returned to the city for the night, he watched as men and woman moved about, carrying various belongings with them as they went. Some families were already on the move out, and Eragon knew Ajihad had spread the large gatherings of people into smaller groups, making them leave at regular intervals.
Saphira was already in the dragonhold waiting for Eragon, but he was surprised when he opened the door to find Glenwing as well. The elf was conversing with Saphira, and Eragon noted that the elf held a wineskin in both hands. When the Rider approached, Glenwing offered one up to him.
Eragon thanked the elf, taking a small sip of the Faelnirv. "What brings you by, Glenwing?"
The elf sat down on one of the chairs, sighing as he did so. Eragon followed, unstrapping Brisingr from his waste as he went. The elf took a sip of his own drink before he said, "Had to get away again, I'm afraid."
Tilting his head, Eragon thought about their previous conversations. "Ah, you mean Arya and Fäolin."
"Aye, none stop this time. Luckily, we were outside the city gates in one of the tunnels, but I needed to get away just the same," Glenwing said.
"You know," Eragon noted, "For an elf, you're an awful gossip."
Glenwing chuckled, "I know, right? Sometimes I can't help myself."
Eragon debated for a moment, before asking, "What were they arguing about this time?"
Glenwing took another sip of elven wine, and Eragon did the same. He could feel the effects of the drink, potent in his blood. He would have to make sure he cast a spell tonight, otherwise he would wake with his head aching. "Fäolin is apparently keeping something from Arya, and they've been arguing about it for a while now. I don't understand what's happening with them."
Eragon wondered if Fäolin's supposed secret was the death of his brother at Eragon's hands. Just the thought made his hands shake, and Eragon clenched it tightly. He took another sip from the wineskin, hoping it would calm him. Clearing his throat, Eragon said, "What do you mean?"
"For nearly twenty years now they've gotten close, closer than they used to be. It's always been a slow dance with those two, but now I have to watch my two friends drift away from each other," Glenwing said. "They still care for one another, that much I can still tell. But there is a distance now that wasn't there before."
"Such things fade, even for elves," Eragon quietly said. "If they truly cared for one another, I'm sure it'll work out."
Glenwing stared at Eragon, his gaze searching. Eragon blinked back at the elf, unsure of what the elf sought. It was an uncomfortable minute before Glenwing nodded his head, taking another sip of the wineskin. Eragon wished for nothing more to turn the conversation away, his heart pounding softly in his chest.
"I've been thinking," Eragon stated, eager to move the conversation away from the previous topic, "About returning to Ellesméra once this battle is over."
"Oh?" Glenwing questioned. If the elf minded Eragon's abrupt segue the Rider didn't know. "For what purpose?"
Turning the wineskin in his hand, Eragon felt the liquid sloshing gently inside. "To return to my old masters. And to see if being among the elves will help the egg to hatch. Your kind has always been closer to the dragons, and my hope is that it might help calm the worries of the young one."
"Arya will be most upset if you did," Glenwing stated.
Eragon blinked at the elf, his mind briefly stuttering. He could feel Saphira's amusement from where she rested, but she did not join their conversation. "W-what? Why?"
"Because you're taking the egg," Glenwing stated, staring at Eragon weirdly for a moment. The elf seemed to have realized something, for a gleam entered his eye, "And of course that you will depart as well. Such things can't be helped, I suppose. Otherwise, how will you take the egg to Ellesméra if you don't actually leave?"
Eragon narrowed his eyes at the elf, and he could sense the tease in his words. But their conversation was in the ancient language, as most of his were with the elves, so there was a truth to Glenwing's utterance. "Hmm," Eragon hummed.
The elf chuckled, and after a moment Eragon did as well. Glenwing was an oddity among the elves Eragon met, but he was glad for the elf's company. Few enough would tease him in such ways, save for Saphira and his father.
There was a knock at the door, surprising both Eragon and Glenwing. Eragon's wards told him it was a dwarf, so Eragon said, "Enter!"
Orik strode in, stopping when he spotted the Rider and elf. "Oh, my apologies. I didn't mean to interrupt. Please excuse-."
"Nonsense!" Glenwing said, switching back to the common tongue, "Come, come, we could always use more company."
The dwarf looked at the elf strangely, but nodded his head. Eragon stood and gave Orik his chair, waving away the dwarf's protests. Eragon grabbed some linens from his bed, bunching them up and sitting on them. When he was seated Eragon handed Orik his wineskin.
The dwarf sniffed it gingerly, but drank it after a moment's contemplation. "Ah," Orik said, "That's a most fine brew. Pity you elves don't share this more!"
Glenwing laughed, sipping his own. Orik handed the Faelnirv back to Eragon, taking another quick sip before he did. "So, Orik tell me," Glenwing began, catching the dwarf's attention, "Are there any lucky ladies waiting for you?"
"Not as such," Orik said, "though I am promised to in marriage."
The elf seemed to find the custom strange, but Eragon was used to such things among humans. "Who's to be your bride?" Eragon asked. He took a sip after his question, feeling the liquid warm his belly.
"I'm going to need a might more of that drink before you get me to say such things," Orik said, gesturing to the wineskin in Eragon's hand. He did as the dwarf bid, watching as Orik took another pull of Faelnirv.
After a moment Orik continued, his words already slightly slurred, "A fine maiden if I've ever seen one. The most fine I've ever laid me eyes on, that much I can say. Hvedra's her name, and we are to be wed in the spring."
Eragon nodded, congratulating the dwarf. Glenwing did as well, though the elf still seemed deeply confused over the arranged marriage. "And what of you fine gentlemen? Such lads as yourself should have the lady's lined up!" Orik exclaimed.
Glenwing answered first, a smile on his face, "Such things are different for elves, but I suppose there's an elven woman I know in Ellesméra that wouldn't mind speaking with again."
For an elf, that was quiet a confession, Eragon noted. Compared to how most elves answered personal questions, Glenwing might as well have just shouted his feelings. Orik didn't seem to catch it, for he turned to Eragon. "And you, Eragon? Surely you've someone who's caught your eye. There's probably no end to the number that'd swoon if you'd ask their hand."
Eragon was quick to deny, but his words stopped in his mouth. He wasn't speaking the ancient language, not with Orik who wouldn't understand, but his mind knew he was going to speak a lie. He had long since gotten used to the way the elven language would bind the tongue unexpectedly, so Eragon mostly only spoke the truth to avoid the unpleasantness.
Glenwing was watching him, the elf taking in his lack of speech as though he knew that Eragon was trying to deny it. Swallowing, Eragon stated, "Even if I did, such a thing would be baseless."
Orik quirked an eyebrow, but the elf was silent. "I would think, naught, Eragon. You're a good man, and such people are hard enough to find."
"If I was to find a partner," Eragon explained, "it would have to be an elf. No other race is as long lived as I am, and the thought of taking a new wife every few decades disgusts me."
"Ah, well there you go!" Orik said. "Just find yourself a fair elf maiden!"
Eragon gestured for the wineskin, and Orik handed it over. He took another pull, feeling that the Faelnirv was nearly gone. "I may be long lived, but I am still a human. Few enough elves will ever want to be with me, and I've long since accepted it."
Glenwing answered, his words cutting through Eragon, "Not all of them."