He heard her mental shout before he could see her, and the force of it made him trip as he was running.
Eragon!
Saphira's mind pressed hard against his own, her essence once more flowing back into place in his heart and mind. Her overwhelming joy, and worry, knocked the wind from his chest. A wide smile broke out over his face as he righted himself, and he felt Saphira's mind sweep through his own. She examined his memories critically, though she paused when she came upon his experience with Tenga.
I'll tell you about it more later, Eragon said to her, and with a snort Saphira finished her examination. He soothed her worry, though she quickly tried to hide it from him as her own memories poured into him. Her memories, all of them tinted blue, flashed before him; Roran and Katrina astride her as she winged herself to the Varden, her landing and explaining to Nasuada and Brom his decision, and even a few instances of her time spent with Fírnen and Glenwing. When it was over, Eragon reminded himself to thank the two of them for occupying her time.
Where are you? Eragon asked, shielding his eyes from the midday sun as he scanned the sky. It was a relatively nice day out, with few clouds to block his vision, though he did not see her form at all. I can feel you, but I don't see you yet.
I'm on my way. He could feel her presence closing in on him from the south, near a small hill that Eragon stood at the base of.
Joy filled him as she neared, and Eragon ran to the peak of the hill immediately. It was only when he crested the hill did Eragon finally realize how close he was to the Varden: gray tents sprawled out across the ground before him, and even from the distance he was he could see the people of the Varden moving about in their daily chores. The Jiet River lay to the west, hidden behind a thin line of trees.
To the east lay the camp of the Urgal's, where Naz Garzhvog and his soldiers stayed, separate from the Varden yet close enough to lend aid. Soldiers patrolled the area surrounding the Varden camp, many either on foot or horse, and it was the closest horse-bound soldiers to the hill that spotted him first.
They rode hard in his direction, though Eragon turned his attention away from them as he glanced upwards.
Her form was brilliant in the sunlight, the light shining off her scales momentarily stunning Eragon. Saphira dived hard, spiraling down the few thousand feet with her wings tucked in tight. A mighty flame leapt from her maw as she roared her joy for all to hear, and Eragon could feel the panic of the horses from the patrol nearing him. Even with the soldiers trying to calm the creatures, the horses bolted back towards the safety of the Varden, and Eragon let out a loud laugh.
Eragon watched as Saphira landed next to him, her powerful wings slowing her even as her feet dug into the earth. He braced his knees against both the wind and the force of her landing, and before she could fold her wings Eragon leapt towards her, his arms outstretched. His arms could no longer fit around the girth of her neck, though it mattered little to Eragon as he clung to her neck, dangling off the ground as though he were no more than necklace to her.
Saphira hummed above him, and Eragon had to ignore her scales that dug sharply into the soft flesh of his bare arms.
I've missed you, Eragon said quietly to her.
And I you, little-one.
He hung there until his arms burned with effort. With a great reluctance he finally let go, landing in front of Saphira and taking a few steps back so she could lower her head. Saphira's large sapphire eye examined him critically, before she turned her head to sniff at him lightly.
You need a bath, Saphira snorted, pushing her snout against his chest. And I have made decision.
Eragon pulled at his tunic, taking a whiff himself. His own stench made him flinch; the smell of sweat, blood, and dirt had never been a pleasant smell, and he could even still detect the lingering traces of the Ra'zac on him. What did you decide, oh wise one?
Saphira let out a puff of smoke, and Eragon coughed as he waved his hand through the air. If you ever force me to leave you behind again, I will throw you on your head. Repeatedly.
Eragon laughed, his hand coming up to rest on the side of her snout even as he laid his head against her warm scales. That's it? You've threatened me with worse over the years. One time you threatened to lick me head to toe, and that was only for waking you by accident!
I won't need to.
Oh?
Even from his spot he could see a fierce grin appear, and Eragon shivered as a pearly white tooth the size of his arm revealed itself.
No. I think it's your elf's turn to let herself be heard.
Blinking, Eragon took a step back, and it was only the sound of wings beating the air did he realize that they were no longer alone atop the small hill. Fírnen announced himself with a bellow of his own, and Eragon was impressed with how large a flame the younger dragon had managed to produce.
The green dragon flew in low and quick, his wings beating hard against the air to offset how close to the ground the dragon was. With a quick movement, one that was no doubt taught by Saphira herself, Fírnen drew himself upwards, his wings flaring as he rested his hind legs on the ground. The earth shook at his landing, though it seemed Fírnen had landed much harder than he had initially expected, as the green dragon shook his head and Saphira let out a snort.
Not bad for his first attempt at it, though he still needs some practice.
Eragon patted Saphira's side lightly. Give him time. He's only a few months old, and far larger than any his age before him.
Fírnen had grown the week that Eragon had been away, enough that he saw Arya's saddle needed to be refit once again. The magic of the dragon's was impressive, to have aided Fírnen's growth so much.
A figure leapt down from Fírnen's back, her raven hair making Eragon's heart skip in his chest. Arya walked smoothly towards him, Támerlein at her side, though she lacked the armor she often wore into battle. Her usual dark tunic was spotless, which was more than Eragon could say from his own.
Eragon smiled at Arya, moving away from Saphira as she neared. "Arya."
Arya's lips twitched in response to his own, though she did not respond. Her eyes were burning into his own as she approached, and Eragon was caught off guard when she embraced him tightly.
Her arms were tight around his chest, and Eragon returned the hug gently. Fírnen and Saphira moved to surround them, and Eragon silently thanked the two dragons for giving them some privacy, even if the Varden was still far off in the distance. Eragon rested his chin on Arya's shoulder, letting himself take in the softness of her form as it pressed tightly against his own. Arya's hair clouded his face when she shifted, and the scent of freshly crushed pine needles rushed into his nose.
A shiver ran through him, and Arya must have felt it as well since she pulled back from him suddenly. Her arms drew back until they were grasped around his elbows, and Eragon let his own fall to her side, though he had to force himself to keep them still. Arya examined his features critically, her emerald eyes burning their way into his heart.
"I am glad that you have returned unharmed," Arya said lowly. He could still sense a tenseness to her words, though her eyes had softened more the longer they stood in their half-embrace.
"I promised, did I not?" Eragon softly said.
"You did," Arya admitted, "But you cannot help but get tangled up in the workings of the world, can you?"
"It seems not," Eragon said sheepishly. His fingers itched to move once more, though he was able to clamp down on the sensation. "Has anything else happened since last we spoke?"
"The elves my mother sent, led by Blödhgarm, have arrived only just before you."
Eragon smiled, "Good. They will be of tremendous help to the Varden."
Riders approach from the Varden.
Thank you, Saphira.
Eragon released his loose grasp on Arya, his fingers burning from the touch of her. She eyed him critically, but when he made to move out of the protective encasing made by the dragons she instead followed behind. As Saphira stepped aside, Eragon trailed a hand over her scales, finally able to see the approaching soldiers Saphira had warned him about.
Eragon stepped lightly passed the dragons, heading towards the riders. No point waiting around, he thought to himself.
A soft hand on his elbow stopped him, and Eragon turned with a raised brow at Arya. She frowned at him, and Eragon asked, "What is it?"
She didn't answer him directly. "Are you alright?"
"I-." Eragon coughed lightly, deciding to answer without deflecting. "There's much on my mind of late, and I would like to bathe and eat before I tell you it all."
Arya released him, though he thought he saw a flash of satisfaction on her face. "Let us go, then."
She led the way, and Eragon followed behind her. His feet and knees were screaming at him, and he was starving, but he forgot all his aches and pains as he watched Arya walk in front of him. The light caught her hair, sparkling, and Eragon was so entranced he barely noticed when she stopped at turned back at him, her own brow raised. "Oh, and Eragon?"
Eragon blinked rapidly, his sudden stupor fading. "Yes?"
She smiled at him, nearly blinding him with its intensity. He was suddenly reminded of one of their duels when she did the same thing. Her words washed over him, settling into the only part of his mind that was not consumed by her already. "If you disappear like that again, Saphira has promised to share with me what you did on Parlim island."
Eragon blanched, turning to Saphira. "You wouldn't."
She smiled her toothy smile at him again, I would.
Eragon shivered, and nodded his understanding to the two of them. Arya turned back around, leading him back towards the Varden with Saphira next to her, and Fírnen rumbled in laughter beside him.
The green dragon pressed his mind into Eragon's, and he could feel the amusement flowing through the dragon. It's alright, Eragon-elda. If Saphira does share this story, of which I must admit I am most curious about, I will share with you the story of how Arya-.
"Fírnen!"
Said dragon rumbled and continued past the glowering elf, leaving Eragon behind.
Eragon sighed.
His return was greeted by a contingent of soldiers, all of which stared at him with a sort of rapture that made Eragon uncomfortable. Soldiers whispered praises as he walked by, some calling him the "Bane of the Ra'zac" while others bowed deeply before quickly moving away to let them pass.
As they quickly waded their way through the crowd, Eragon could sense the approach of thirteen elves, one of which, Eragon knew, was Glenwing. The elves moved through the crowd swiftly, though Eragon could see how the people of the Varden shied away from them, unease evident on their features. The elves stopped in front of Eragon, and he watched as twelve of them bowed and twisted their hands in the standard elven greeting. The only one who did not was Glenwing, standing at the front next to the elf known as Blödhgarm, smirking at Eragon.
Eragon returned the greeting, and Glenwing stepped forward and clasped arms with Eragon.
"It is good to see you returned, my friend." The elf said, his grip tight. "I feared I would grow bored without you to constantly lead us into trouble."
"You get into enough trouble all your own," Eragon replied, a smile rising on his face. Though Glenwing constantly teased him, the elf was as fine a friend as Eragon could ever hope to have.
Glenwing laughed deeply, the trilling sound causing even the people of the Varden to take notice. The elf slapped Eragon on the shoulder and gestured to the leader of the twelve elves, stating, "This is Blödhgarm, leader of the elven spellcasters Queen Islanzadí sent to aid the Varden."
The elf, who had changed his appearance with magic, was tall even by elven standards, with glossy blue-black fur covering the entirety of his body. From Saphira, Eragon could tell that the elf had augmented his smell, though for what end he could not tell. "We are well met, Eragon Shadeslayer. We come to aid the Varden and yourself, Shur'tugal, in the fight against the Black King."
"I am glad to have the aid of such a group, Blödhgarm-vodhr. Your experiences against the Forsworn will be a boon to the Varden." Eragon stated. The elves thanked him, and Eragon took the time to study each of the elves as they introduced themselves.
The group was evenly split between male and female elves, and each introduced themselves quickly to Eragon, who nodded and responded in kind. Eragon glanced at Glenwing when the elf Yaela approached, watching as his friend schooled his usual jovial expression. This was the elf that Glenwing was sweet upon, if Eragon recalled correctly, and one who Saphira had teased him about during the Blood-Oath celebration. Yaela did not look at all at Glenwing, who had moved next to Eragon and Arya, and Eragon reminded himself to ask his friend what had transpired while he was away.
The introductions complete, Blödhgarm stepped forward to stand before Eragon again. "It would be an honor to fight alongside one such as yourself, Shadeslayer, and we place ourselves at your disposal. Command us as you see fit, and we will ensure any task you give us completed."
"Thank you," Eragon bowed lightly, "I will do my best to be worthy of your service."
The elves nodded to him and bowed, falling into step behind Saphira and Fírnen as Eragon moved their company towards the pavilion that Nasuada used for herself. Glenwing and Arya matched his pace on either side of him, and the feeling of loneliness that had pervaded over him on his trek back to the Varden had all but disappeared.
As they neared the center of the Varden, Eragon could see Roran and Katrina waiting, surrounded by a whole host of villagers that Eragon thought to be from Carvahall. Brom stood behind them, next to a tall hulking man, who had a mane of wild black hair and bared his forearms for the world to see. Roran and Katrina moved forward as they neared, and Eragon was surprised when his distant cousin embraced him.
"I may have known you long, cousin," Roran growled, "but I am glad to see you unharmed. The entirety of the Varden was dismayed that you did not return, and that is nothing to say of how it felt to tell them ourselves. And you should have seen how upset Saphira was on the flight back."
Eragon and Roran separated, and he glanced back at Saphira. She was watching him, her sapphire eyes never leaving his person, and he could feel the turbulent emotions of their separation stirring again. Soothing her emotions with his own, Eragon lowered his voice, "It was a long trek, but I am here now."
Katrina stepped forward, and Eragon was glad to see that some of the nervousness that had been present before had been swept away. She hesitated for a moment, then hugged Eragon lightly. "Thank you, Agretlam, for all that you have done for me. I can never repay you, and it is only since I have come to the Varden that I realized how much you risked rescuing me. I am grateful. Helgrind," Katrina shuddered lightly, "is a foul place, and it would have been the death of me. You have my thanks for bringing Roran and I back together again. If not for you, I do not know that we would have ever been reunited."
Eragon smirked, "I think Roran would have found a way. He is most stubborn, and has a will to match." His smirked faded as he continued, "but please, it is Eragon. You are to be married to Roran, and though we are distantly related, I think we are close enough to family."
Katrina smiled at him, her arm moving to grip Roran's own. "Then I thank you, Eragon, for what you have done."
Eragon nodded.
It was Roran who finally breached the topic that remained between them, the young man's voice dropping down to a whisper. "Did you judge him?"
Eragon sighed, "I did."
Katrina's face paled, "Please, do not tell me. I do not wish to know."
Roran's face betrayed his desire to know, but the young man wisely said nothing. The villagers behind the couple were eyeing Eragon and the others, and he saw their discomfort at the presence of dragons and elves. Glenwing and Arya stood a small distance away with the other elves, though he knew they could hear his conversation as clearly as he could theirs.
Wishing not to continue this spectacle for others to see, Eragon reached out a hand for Roran to clasp. When the man did, Eragon said, "Roran, Katrina, we may not have known each other long, but I want you to know that both of you are family to me. If either of you are ever in trouble, do not hesitate to call upon me."
"Likewise," Roran nodded. "Though I am not sure how much aid we would be, know that we shall be here all the same."
Katrina curtsied to Eragon, and Eragon returned the gesture with a small bow. Their conversation concluded, Eragon watched as the couple rejoined the villagers, who immediately swarmed around them. Eyes continued to peer questioningly at him, but Eragon turned away and gestured at Arya and Glenwing.
The two joined him as he resumed his walk towards Nasuada's pavilion, the red fabric standing out brightly against the dull wool that made up the majority of the Varden's tents. His arrival was meet with a host of cheering, and he could see Nasuada standing at the pavilion's threshold, King Orrin to her left and Brom to her right. Behind her stood two rows of guards, while he could see various other nobles peering around the soldiers.
When he realized what was occurring, Eragon scowled. They wanted to make his return a spectacle, even more so than it already was. Brom saw his expression and laughed lightly, which only caused his scowl to deepen. Arya must have noticed his countenance, for she elbowed him lightly. "What is it?"
"I just wanted to get some rest," Eragon sighed, his voice low as they approached Nasuada and the others. "My feet and knees ache like no tomorrow, and I'm in sore need of a bath."
"I'd say," Glenwing commented, his nose wrinkling. "I could smell you before you even stepped foot in the Varden."
Saphira and Fírnen rumbled with laughter, but Eragon ignored them as he stopped in front of the gathered crowd. Glenwing and Arya stayed behind him, and Eragon presented himself to Nasuada and King Orrin, while offering his father a nod.
Nasuada clasped her hands before her, her voice ringing out for all to hear. Eragon was amazed as the Varden immediately quieted their cheer, each eager to listen to the words of their leader. "We welcome you back to the Varden, Eragon Shadeslayer! You, who have ventured into the Empire, and returned successful in your mission! Galbatorix may have his own rider, he may have an army so large that it darkens the land, and he may be adept at strange and terrible magics, but none of it was able to stop Eragon and Saphira from venturing into his realm and killing four of him most favored servants. For all his wicked power, he could not stop Eragon from returning with impunity, and he has shown us that he cannot even defend his own borders."
The crowd cried out, and Eragon had to admit that Nasuada was as excellent as her father in inspiring them.
The cheering died down, and King Orrin offered his own greeting, which was staid compared to Nasuada's. The crowd listened politely, and even cheered and applauded afterwards, and Eragon noticed how Orrin was unable to affect the crowd in the same way as Nasuada. When King Orrin had concluded his speech, Nasuada gestured for Eragon to speak.
Eragon grimaced, but schooled his expression when he turned to face the Varden. He could see eager faces staring back at him, each waiting to hear his words. There was utter silence as he considered his words, and he even saw Glenwing smirking at him besides Arya.
"I am honored to have your support, people of the Varden! It heartens me so to be back amongst you, you who have fought beside me these past few months, from the reaches of Farthen Dûr to the Burning Plains behind us. Know this, my fellow soldiers; You are the reason I fight, the reason I have been able to return unimpeded from the Black King's own territory. Without you, there is no war, and there is no finer army for me to march besides then the Varden!"
The crowd cheered at his words, and the soldiers beat their swords against shields as they cried out. Eragon bowed to them, and stepped back towards Nasuada and the others.
I hate speeches.
Saphira snorted. At least you did not fumble your way through it. A few centuries ago, you would have been frozen like a deer before a predator in front of a crowd this big.
Hmm.
After his address to the Varden, Nasuada had dismissed the gathering and gestured for Eragon and Arya to join her. The leader of the Varden took King Orrin by the arm and led him into the tent, and a small party followed her inside.
Blödhgarm dismissed the rest of his party and followed Eragon and Arya inside, and as he passed Glenwing the elf slapped him lightly on the back. Eragon nodded at his friend in farewell, watching briefly as the elf left with the others.
The inside was as decorated as ever, with its many different furniture strewn out around the large pavilion. A wall in the back had been rolled up for Saphira, though he could see that it was not able to accommodate Fírnen. He watched as she snaked her large head gently through the opening, her scales rubbing the sides and jostling the tent as she entered. Nasuada sat in her high-backed chair next to King Orrin, with Brom standing at her side. He easily recognized some of the Council faces already present, though Jörmundur was absent. Eragon suspected that the military man was busy getting the Varden back to work.
Trianna and some other spellcasters where already present, as well as some other nobles Eragon had seen before. A dark-skinned man Eragon did not know was seated at the table as well, and Nasuada introduced him as the two Riders sat, with Blödhgarm standing slightly behind Eragon.
"Eragon, this is Sagabato-no Inapashunna Fadawar, chief of the Inapashunna."
Eragon nodded at the man, and said, "We are well met, chieftain."
Fadawar nodded in return, eyeing both Eragon and the elves who were next to him.
For the next hour or so, Eragon had to sit through countless introductions, congratulations, as well as questions, some of which he refused to answer completely. It continued for so long, that Eragon began to drum his fingers impatiently on the table, watching as his father smirked at him. How Brom dealt with all this Eragon did not know, and even Arya seemed to grow tired of the constant barrage of questions he could not answer. Each time the nobles glanced curiously at Blödhgarm, some with a mixture of awe or plain lust, though the elf did not seem to pay any of it any mind. They did, however, seem to firmly ignore the lingering Ural guards inside, turning away so as not to see the creatures.
Once all the guests had finished their conversations, Nasuada dismissed them, only for another group to take their place. All the while Eragon acted as his role dictated; he would not dishonor the legacy of Vrael, nor the teachings of his masters. Each noble Eragon shook the hand made the headache he had grown larger, though Eragon kept his expression firmly neutral.
Two more groups of nobles had entered and exchanged pleasantries with him, until eventually the line grew few and Nasuada called an end to the proceedings. Even the Leader of the Varden seemed tired, rubbing her temples when the last of the guests finally departed.
King Orrin's face finally dropped the guise he wore all long, and he rolled his shoulders as he turned to Nasuada, "I think we have no need of your guards anymore, my lady."
Nasuada nodded, and with a clap of her hands dismissed the guards that had lingered throughout the while.
King Orrin relaxed into his chair, his features showing some hint of arrogance and annoyance Eragon commonly saw on such dignitaries. "Now," the Surdan King said to Eragon, "Let us have the full account of your travels, Eragon Shadeslayer. I have heard only vague explanations for why you chose to delay at Helgrind, and I have had my fill of evasions and deceptive answers. I am determined to know the truth, and I warn you against any attempt to conceal the truth of what transpired in the Empire. Until I know the truth, none of us shall so much as step outside of this tent."
Saphira growled loudly, and her voice rang out for all in the tent to hear. You do not command me nor Eragon, human. He is the Leader of the Riders, and speaks with the authority granted to him by the dragons of old. Nor can you speak for Arya, who is beholden both to the Elves and to the Riders.
Even Nasuada's voice had frozen over as she added, "We are equals here, Your Majesty. The five of us are as close to equals as you are likely to find inside of Alagaësia, and you would do well to remember that."
King Orrin matched Nasuada's tone, though he did seem slightly unnerved by Saphira's warning. "Do I exceed the bounds of my sovereignty? Perhaps. You are both correct in saying that I hold no power of all of you, but I must say this; I have yet to see evidence of this equal treatment you have described. Eragon's departure was not known to me until after it occurred, and when I simply asked why, I am treated as though I were no more than an overzealous, over-inquisitive underling whose childish concerns distracted you from more pressing matters. Eragon is the entire reason we began this campaign, and I have staked the entirety of my nation on this venture. If you cannot bring yourself to respect my station, then it is my opinion that you are unfit to command a coalition such as ours, and I shall set myself against you however I may."
Eragon drummed his fingers on the table, his annoyance at the situation growing. Even Arya frowned lightly, though she did not fidget as he did.
Nasuada clasped her hands before her, her bandages on clear display. Her voice was calm as she spoke, and Eragon could hear the diplomatic tones of her father ringing through. "If I have slighted you, Sire, then it was due to my own hasty carelessness and not any desire on my part to dimmish you or your house. Please forgive my lapses. They shall not happen again. I have but recently ascended to this post, and I have yet to master the necessary niceties."
Orrin inclined his head in a smooth gesture, seemingly accepting Nasuada's words.
"As for Eragon's actions-." Nasuada began.
"As for my actions," Eragon broke in, interrupting Nasuada. He glanced at her briefly, only continuing when she nodded her head at him. "I did what I thought was best at the time. And if it may sooth the wounds between you, I will gladly share my tale. But be warned; there are many things I cannot discuss, both because I have been sworn to secrecy and because some of these matters concern only Riders. I will tell you what I can, however, which will be a great deal more than you already know."
King Orrin's face tightened, though he seemed to understand Eragon's position. "Of course, Rider. There are secrets that even I will not tell, lest they destroy all that we have accomplished already. If my colleague agrees with me," he gestured to Nasuada, "then we will hear your tale."
Nasuada nodded her head, "Yes, please Eragon."
"Very well."
He told them of his trek to Helgrind, and his subsequent decision to stay behind. When he reached the part of his story dealing with his acceptance to judge Sloan, both Nasuada and King Orrin's faces tightened. Pausing, Eragon let them sit in silence a moment to reflect on his words.
"You judged and killed a human?" King Orrin said, his words low. "What right do you have, Rider, to act as jury and executioner to human-kind? You should have followed your first instinct, and dismissed this issue outright. What assurances do we have that you will not judge us in the future as you have done now? We, who are beholden to answer to Angvard, who answer to the Gray Man on his gray horse. What stops you from becoming another Galbatorix, seizing power for yourself?"
"I must agree with King Orrin here," Nasuada stated, her tone cold once more. "What you did was done without due process, and was ill advised. What right did you have to carry out his judgement?"
"I agreed to weigh Sloan's life because it was asked of me. I agreed because Roran and Katrina are family to me, no matter how distantly related. I agreed not because it was the quickest way to end the issue of his life, but because I was the only one with the experience and right to do so. I do not have the right to judge your subjects, King Orrin, nor yours, Nasuada, but Katrina had the right to request my judgement for her father's actions." Eragon let out a sigh, the headache he had before returning. "Disagree with my final rendering you may, but you cannot deny that in this instance I had every right to do as I see fit. I am the Leader of the Riders, Grandmaster of the Dragon Rider Order. None of you here are old enough to understand what that may mean, save perhaps Blödhgarm and my father. My responsibilities are to the people of Alagaësia as a whole, and that gives me every right to act as I have."
"Fine," King Orrin spat, "perhaps you did have the right to execute Sloan in this instance. But tell me, what do we have to go on besides your word that you will not seize Galbatorix's throne for yourself, and become another Undying tyrant? You are dangerous, Eragon Shadeslayer, and we must know what your goal in this war is."
Eragon's eyes wandered over to Arya briefly, whose expression was kept carefully inscrutable. His gaze moved over to his father, who nodded at him briefly. He did not know Brom's thoughts on the matter, but he knew how to answer Orrin's question. "My goal is to defeat Galbatorix, and restore the Order he destroyed. But beyond that? I do not want Galbatorix's throne, Your Majesty, be assured of that. I agree with you that a Rider on any throne is something that cannot be allowed to happen. I know the power we wield, and I know the responsibilities that we hold. If my actions so far have not proven to you my commitment to this, then I do not know what will."
"If I may say this, Your Majesty, My Lady," Brom spoke, and Eragon watched as his father stepped forward to speak. "Eragon has always displayed the true sentiment of what it means to be a Rider. Even during my time, no Elder ever questioned Eragon's devotion, even when he was named Dragonkiller, and was forced into hiding by Vrael himself. The dragons knew the true measure of his heart, as they would have never healed him if they feared what he would become. Some of the Riders of old were corrupt, as Galbatorix and his Forsworn are testament to that enough, but Eragon could never be swayed by power."
Nasuada steepled her hands together before her, and even King Orrin rubbed his chin in deep thought. Eragon eyed his father as he stepped back into place, but Brom's face was blank.
"I have heard the rumors of you killing a dragon before, Eragon, but I did not believe them to be true. Even when I questioned my father in Farthen Dûr he would not tell me, nor has Jörmundur disclosed that to me, stating that it was the will of my father not to speak of it." Nasuada said.
"There has been talk amongst those that fled Belatona before this war even began of a Rider who long ago killed a Shade and a dragon in a single night," King Orrin stated, his eyes fixing on Eragon. "They speak of it as an old folktale, as a warning to their children against the terrors of the night. These stories are true?"
Eragon shuddered lightly, not liking that his actions so long ago were reduced to nothing more than stories that gave children nightmares. Though he was surprised about how well-informed King Orrin was about the refugee's talks. "Aye."
"Why did you kill the dragon, Eragon?" Nasuada asked.
"I killed the dragon because there were those who sought to turn the hatchling into a Shade," Eragon stated.
Nasuada and King Orrin froze, their eyes wide at his words. He could even sense Blödhgarm behind him stiffen, and he knew the elf understood the gravity of what he said.
"Is such a thing even possible?" King Orrin asked, a hint of fear in his words. "Could such a creature even exist?"
Eragon felt a hand grip his knee under the table, though he did not turn towards Arya next to him. Her hand brought some measure of comfort to him, though he did not know what her intentions with it where. "Possible? Anything is possible, given enough time and resources. But the creature was too unstable, as often as Shades are. It was going to die regardless of my actions, but I did manage to contain the damage long enough until I was able to slay it. This group of magicians wished to create something that should never be, and the Riders felt the knowledge of such a thing too risky to be known."
Nasuada dropped her chin to her chest for a moment, and took a deep breath before saying, "I see now why my father swore Jörmundur to secrecy."
"Aye," King Orrin said. "Such a thing is troubling indeed. If word of this abomination was known, I fear how others would try to replicate such a feat."
Eragon nodded, his eyes meeting his father briefly. Though the pain had lessened over the years, whenever he spoke about it the feeling of despair rose high again inside of him. Quelling his emotions, Eragon asked, "Is there anything else that I can tell you that would satisfy you enough? I do not wish to be Galbatorix, nor do I wish to ever practice such black magic. I do not know what else I can tell you other than what I have already have."
Nasuada cleared her throat, her eyes meeting his. "I do not agree with your sentencing, Eragon, but you have convinced me that on this occasion you acted within your own domain. But we are not here to discuss whether Sloan's actual sentencing merited death, only if you had the right to carry it out. If we must take you on your word, then I accept that you acted not in your own best interest, but in what you thought was right."
"I am not so easily convinced," Orrin said, "But you have proven yourself our ally time and again, and have spoken truthfully when others would not. If we must trust that you do not want the seat of power Galbatorix holds, then I will accept that your actions show your true intent."
"I thank you both," Eragon said, "But I do not require you to agree with my decisions, only to acknowledge that I have the right to make them. The Riders will not lord our power over the other races, and if it satisfies you, I will endeavor to ensure that in the future I am more careful in my application of such power."
"That is all we can ask," Nasuada said. "We were not questioning your devotion to the cause, only if-."
Enough of this. Saphira snorted. If you are satisfied enough with Eragon's explanation, then let him continue his tale. He is tired from his journey, but he is polite enough to not mention it. I am not.
"Of course, Saphira." Nasuada stated.
"Then continue, please, Eragon." King Orrin said, waving his hand at Eragon.
He told them the rest of the tale, leaving out the final words of the Ra'zac, as well as his temporary stay with Tenga. For nearly half an hour after he finished recounting his journey they questioned him, dissecting every step he took back to the Varden. He understood the reasoning, since any intelligence he may have inadvertently discovered could prove useful to their campaign, even if the headache he had failed to recede.
Brom, who had stood silent after his brief interruption, finally moved forward after a brief pause in the conversation. "If that is all, I think Eragon deserves some rest. Anything else can wait till after he has recovered from his trek."
"Very well," Nasuada said, standing with King Orrin. "We thank you, Eragon, for your time."
Eragon stood from the chair he sat in for some hours, feeling his knees pop as he did. Arya followed him, as did Blödhgarm. Eragon bowed, and gave his farewell to the two leaders.
As he exited the tent, Eragon said to Saphira, tell my father that I wish to speak with him in private, please.
Fine.
Eragon chuckled, and gestured for Arya to take the lead. Fírnen had left some time ago, long since growing bored of the meeting, and Arya led him to the dragon's sleeping area where their tents were set up.
Saphira trailed behind them, with Blödhgarm coming up besides Eragon. "Eragon-vor, I will take my leave, but I wish to discuss with you how we could best help the Varden. I have spoken briefly with Arya Svit-Kona before your arrival, and we feel its best our abilities be discussed in length."
"Of course, Blödhgarm-vodhr." Eragon said. The elf bowed to him in the tradition elven way, and Eragon returned it briefly.
"Your tent is over there," Arya said, pointing to the tent that Saphira strode towards. "I am next to Fírnen, and Glenwing is opposite me."
Eragon nodded, "Thank you."
When Arya lingered for a moment next to him, Eragon continued, "There is something I must discuss with you and my father. He will be here shorty."
Arya nodded, and Eragon walked towards his tent, trailing his hand over Saphira's side as she laid down next to his abode. She hummed lightly at him, and he said, can you contact Glaedr? What I have to say both him and Oromis may wish to know.
Her sapphire eye blinked at him, and Eragon smiled.
Eragon parted the opening to his tent, glad to see that the remaining effects he left behind at the Varden were already present here. When he eyed Arya, she shook her head and said, "Glenwing. He would not let another touch any of your stuff."
His possessions were measly, but Eragon still felt gratitude towards the elf. Arya followed him inside, and Eragon sat heavily down on his bed, letting out a bone-weary sigh. His feet ached something fierce, so Eragon stooped over and untied his laces. He glanced up towards Arya, who remained standing, her face shrouded in thought.
"What is it?" Eragon asked, removing first his left boot then his right. He let out a sigh of relief when they were off, stretching his toes as he relaxed.
"Nothing, I-. I was only thinking that perhaps-." Her words were cut off by a knock at the wooden post beside the flap of his tent, and he saw her frustration mount before being smoothed over. Brom strode into Eragon's tent then, and Arya turned towards his father as the old man sighed heavily.
"You can never make anything easy, can you?" Brom grabbed the only available chair in the tent, sitting down heavily and puffing at his pipe. "I agreed with you, by the way, in how you handled Sloan, but you must be careful in the future. They fear your power, and now I have to spend even more time soothing over their worries."
"I did not intend to make this any more difficult for then it already is, father," Eragon said, "But Nasuada and Orrin are not the reason I asked you here."
Arya glanced around the tent before striding next to Eragon and seating herself on his cot next to him, and Eragon spared her a soft smile.
Brom sighed and ran his hand over his face, before looking towards Arya. He nodded his head at the elf, who returned his gesture with an incline of her head. "So, then, speak."
Yes, Eragon-vor, please. Glaedr said, his voice rumbling in Eragon's head. There was no doubt the others could hear Glaedr, for they winced briefly as his mind pressed into theirs. They all joined their minds together, and he could feel Saphira's and Fírnen's presence as well.
Glaedr-elda, thank you. Is Oromis there? Eragon asked.
He is listening through me, and I will relay any of his words.
Good. Eragon sighed, Glaedr-elda, how much as Saphira told you of recent events?
Enough to know that you ventured to Helgrind and were left behind at your request, though it is good to know that you have returned unharmed. Oromis wishes to express his sentiment as well. Have you succeeding in your mission in killing the Ra'zac, then?
I have, Eragon explained, but there is something I need to tell all of you. When I found the last Ra'zac deep inside the mountain, it told me something worrying.
Spit it out, Eragon, Brom said, puffing at his pipe even as he spoke through their connection. You do not need to keep us here in suspense.
Fine. The Ra'zac told me that Galbatorix is looking for the Name.
The Name? Which Name? Brom asked, and he saw his father frown.
Glaedr was silent, and Eragon could feel the dragon's mind cloud over as he thought. Arya's brow dipped, and Eragon felt a longing to smooth it over before crushing it down.
The Name of the ancient language, Eragon answered.
The Name of Names, Glaedr whispered, the rumblings of his mind echoing inside Eragon's.
Aye.
The Name of All Names has long since been forgotten, Brom stated. How could Galbatorix possibly find it?
It doesn't matter, Glaedr growled, if the Oath-breaker is searching for the true name of the ancient language, then we are in a worse position then I feared. Glaedr paused briefly. Oromis… asks how sure you are Eragon about this knowledge gained by the enemy.
It spoke true enough, I think, Eragon explained, but it could be a mislead from Galbatorix himself, or an attempt to scare us into submission.
Why tell you this? Arya asked, and Eragon could begin to see a hint of worry forming on her face.
The Ra'zac wanted me to tell its story, to let it legend live on. It was a deal we struck, but I told it I would only tell the truth of their lives. Anymore it could not say.
Any intelligence on Galbatorix is useful to us, Brom counseled, if he is searching for the Name, then we must find a way to counter it. There is always a solution to any problem you face, and not even Galbatorix can predict all points of attack.
Eragon has a solution, Saphira added, though it is a dangerous gambit.
Share this with us, Eragon, Glaedr stated. And we shall see if it has some merit.
On my travels back to the Varden, Eragon began, I encounter a man that I have not seen for centuries. It was Tenga, the man who taught me many different spells. Some of which I have already shared with you and Oromis, Glaedr, and the spell that I used recently in the Battle at the Burning Plains.
That this magician is still alive after all these centuries is puzzling, Glaedr commented, but ultimately not important. What did this Tenga tell you?
Many things, Eragon said softly. Some of which I was sworn not to tell. He is… eccentric to say the least, and anymore of him personally we would have to ask Angela, but he shared my fear of Galbatorix learning the true Name. He told me how the only way to counter the power invoked by the Name would be to use magic as it was before it was bound, in the same way as the Grey Folk.
To cast wordless magic, Arya said, her emerald eyes meeting his.
Aye, Eragon said quietly.
Oromis says… that wordless magic is dangerous, and you are more likely to do yourself harm then to land a blow on the enemy.
If the mind is undisciplined, Eragon replied, Tenga has given me his Compendium of Grey Folk magic. It describes how the Grey Folk used magic, and how they were able to control it.
The Grey Folk bound magic for a reason, Arya countered, her hands tightening on the cots frame that she gripped, it is said that one of the Grey Folk nearly destroyed the entire world with but a thought.
True, Brom said, rubbing his bearded chin. But what else can stand against something that can control the very language we use for magic? Using magic such as this would be reckless in and of itself, but if used during the right moment…
Could strike at the heart of the Black King, Glaedr said. But you have already been trained in the art of wordless magic, Eragon, as part of your Rider training.
Aye, Eragon admitted, but not to this extent. Only ever simple spells, or ones that were easy enough to imagine. And even then, I could feel how uncontrollable it was, how easily something could go wrong. I know that the Grey Folk bound the ancient language for a reason, and I agree with that, but they must have had ways of casting more complicated spells before it all changed.
How accurate do think this Compendium is? How well can you trust that Tenga knows the truth of what he has? Glaedr asked, and Eragon could tell that it was Oromis who asked through the dragon.
He said that the Compendium was first-hand knowledge, and I believe it's true. His collection of magic is incredible, and every spell so far that I have gained from him has been exactly as he described it.
What did Tenga wish for this knowledge? Such things are not easily parted with, Arya brought forward.
I cannot let another read them, and even telling you about them has stretched the limits of my promise. I must give them to Angela after I am done with them, and I must tell him of everything I learned from the texts after the war, though he did not specify when.
Everyone was silent for a moment, and Eragon chanced another glance at Arya. Her features were no longer marred by the downward casted brow of hers, though she still looked troubled.
Oromis and I will reflect on this new knowledge, Eragon-vor, Glaedr said. Read the Compendium in the meantime, though we advise caution in its application until we can ascertain if this is the path we must take.
I will make sure that Eragon does not do anything too reckless, Saphira promised.
Hmm. Glaedr hummed. We will speak more of this later.
The group bid their goodbyes to the dragon, and by extension Oromis, and Eragon watched as Brom took another hit from his pipe, his face steepled in contemplation.
"That Galbatorix would try to control all of magic is unsurprising," Brom murmured, "but extremely disconcerting. For now, let us keep our suspicion close to heart. There is no use worrying the others until we have a solution. Otherwise, this war might be as good as lost to us."
"What of Angela?" Arya questioned. "Surely she would have sage advice, both of Tenga and of the Grey Folk's magic."
Brom sighed, standing from the chair he had claimed. His father casted his eyes around the room, before glancing at Eragon. "I will speak to her myself, and see what it is she has to say about this. I know how to deal with the witch."
"Thank you, father." Eragon said, nodding to Brom. "I know I've put you in a difficult position, both before and now, and I appreciate your help."
His father grunted in acknowledgement before he said, "Get some rest, Eragon. You'll need it."
With that his father left the tent, and Eragon felt Saphira recede in his mind, giving them some privacy. Eragon turned to Arya, his eyes tracing over her raven hair that had fallen from its usual hold behind her head. The strand of hair was covering her eyes from him, and he gently moved to brush it behind her ear.
Arya stiffened at the contact, and Eragon froze, his hand lingering in the air between them. Slowly he withdrew it as the silence between them grew, only for a hand to gently grasp his wrist. "Forgive me," Eragon whispered, "I did not mean to push."
Arya shook her head, the strand of hair falling once more out of place. She huffed as the hair fell across her lips, a light smile gracing her lips. "It's alright."
She did not release him, even when he lowered his hand down to rest on the cot beside them. There was little room between the two of them, and each movement of her breath he could feel moving the air between them. When she said nothing more, Eragon prodded, "What did you wish to speak to me about earlier?"
"Before you left," Arya said, her musical voice soft, "you wanted to talk about what happened the night of the battle."
"I did," Eragon confirmed, "but as I said, I do not want to push you. If this is something you do not wish to discuss, then I will let it go."
Arya turned, twisting her body to face him. At first her eyes lingered on her hand gripping his wrist, but eventually she flicked them upwards to meet his own. His heart stuttered in his chest at the sight of her emerald eyes, and he fought the compulsion to glance away. "May I ask you something?" Arya said instead of responding to his comment.
"Of course." That she was so formal in her request gave him pause, but he saw how hesitant she was, so he let the feeling go.
"What do you want?" Arya asked, her emerald eyes jumping to each of his own. She seemed to be looking for something, and Eragon felt the same pull to answer her every desire. "From me, specifically," Arya clarified.
"I only ever wanted you," Eragon answered truthfully, "I've said that much before. Anything you are willing to give me."
"Yes," Arya whispered, "But I meant regarding that night. What do you wish me to tell you? That it was perhaps the best sleep I've had in months, or that ever since that night I can scarcely think of anything else when I lay awake at night?"
His heart sped up in his chest, his hand gripping the fleece that was his blanket tighter. Arya's own grip increase in intensity, though she relaxed it after a moment. "I only ever wanted the truth of you. I see who you are, Arya, and I am captivated by it, even if you try to hide behind that mask of yours."
"This mask protects me, stops those who would try to see what I do not want them to. I cannot describe why, but with you I want to…" Her words trailed off, and Eragon watched as her face softened.
Eragon reached his other hand up to her face, hesitating briefly before cupping her cheek gently. "Whatever is between us, I want it to continue, more than anything else. You asked me what I want, now it is my turn; What do you want, Arya?"
Arya studied him for a long moment, and Eragon saw something stirring behind her eyes. When she was quiet for so long that Eragon feared she might never answer, he moved his hand away from her face. Her other hand stopped its movement, her slim fingers holding tight to both his wrists. Eragon blinked, and then Arya did something Eragon never expected.
Arya kissed him.