Eragon was awaken, quite rudely, by the trumpeting of Saphira directly outside of his tent… He started, throwing his thin blanket off of him in haste and bolting to his feet. He didn't bother with dressing before throwing back the flap of his tent, eyes wide. Saphira, what-
I'm sorry for waking you, little one. There's a man out here that refuses to go away.
Eragon sighed. Let him through. He watched as the scales and spines of Saphira's back moved away from his line of sight, giving way to a small, lithe soldier Eragon remembered healing the previous day. "Is there something you are needing?" Eragon asked, noting the man's firm expression.
"Yes, sir… Lady Nasuada requests your presence, along with that of your cousin, within the hour for breakfast. Shall I pass on your word of acceptance?"
Eragon ran a hand over his bare arm, nodding. "Yes, if you would. Please tell the Lady we will be there." He watched the man depart, limping visibly, before retreating into the tent. He found Roran already awake and pulling on a new tunic of fresh white wool.
"Why do you think she wishes me to accompany you?" Roran asked as he stepped into the new leggings sent from Nasuada the previous night.
Eragon had wondered the same thing and the only conclusion he could come to was good manners. "You are my cousin, Roran. Nasuada would hardly greet you civilly and then forget your existence. After all, who was it that killed the Twins? Aye, we of the Varden are very grateful to you."
Roran seemed to accept that answer and sat silently as Eragon pulled on one of the tunics gifted to him by Islanzadi and the elves. The crimson and russet colors went well with the mood that he could feel emanating from outside –a slight peek of enlivenment, an undertone of sorrow…
After he pulled on his boots, Eragon and Roran made their way to the large tent housing Nasuada. The Varden's ruler sat in a high-backed, plain chair, her dark hair pulled back and her even darker skin adorned only in a plain white dress. Her eyes seemed slightly bloodshot, but Eragon had expected it. She had been put through much.
"Eragon, Roran, thank you for coming," she greeted, standing. "Please, sit. The food was brought in only a moment ago. Would you both like milk?"
Eragon accepted the offer, but Roran insisted on only water. They both sat, as did Nasuada, and servants seemed to pour from the sides of the room, placing platters down and pouring drinks. Most chose to leave after that, but one, a young woman with a red face, continued to bluster about, cleaning everything she could find. Elva, the little girl with the voice much too grown up for her, stood off the side, watching the woman with mild interest.
"Elva told me that you knew of a way to reverse the enchantment you beset upon her?" Nasuada asked, taking a cover off of one of the trays. Sweet smells of cooked meat wavered up to Eragon's nose, so tempting yet disgusting at the same time. He took fruit, glaring stonily at the meat. "Yes, I do."
"Good," Nasuada murmured with a relieved sigh. "Then you can perform the rites after breakfast. Is that fine with you, Elva?"
Elva sighed a bit, as if put off by this, and answered boldly, "I suppose so. I've lived with it for years, I suppose an hour won't hurt." She then looked back at the servant woman, saying flippantly, "You might want to stay away from knives today, by the way."
The tent flap was pushed aside and the figure that had caused Eragon's heart such pain, humiliation, and utter devotion entered. Arya's long, midnight curls fell around her artistic, chiseled face. A black tunic and leggings encased her thin body that bowed respectfully to Nasuada before slipping into the only vacant chair –beside Eragon.
"Forgive me for running late, I had a small matter to attend to," she murmured, her lilting voice causing Eragon's heart to clench. She nodded good morning to him before turning her attention to Roran. "Master Roran, I daresay we have much to praise you about. Will you and your kinsmen be staying with us for a time?" Eragon noticed that when selecting her food, she never once glanced at the slices of boar. She instead plucked up an apple and a flaky pastry.
Roran looked slightly uncomfortable when both females' eyes turned on him. "I believe so. I'm afraid we have no where else to turn to… and all of us are willing to fight for our lodgings."
Nasuada nodded slowly. "As you can see, our lodging is not much… but yet you are welcome to it." Almost without warning, she changed subject, eyes turning to Eragon. "What plans will you carry out now?"
The words startled Eragon out of his deep thoughts. He was still pondering the issue of the shortage of food and accommodations. Unease bubbled up in the pit of his stomach. He must tell her; as his liege, she had a right to know. "I need to go to Helgrind." He paused, watching shocked horror pass over Nasuada's face. "Roran's fiancée, Katrina, was kidnapped. I scryed her last night –she lives still, but for how long, I…"
Roran had grown very still to Eragon's right, his hand halfway between plate and mouth. Arya's face was perfectly composed, yet there was a hint of urgency in her large emerald eyes. Nasuada had managed to blink away her surprise. She finally murmured, "I see. As a Rider, you are bound to me; yet, as a man, your loyalties lie to your left and right – Ellesmera and family. So be it." She sighed deeply, looking much older than her years. "You must do what you must. When shall you depart?"
Eragon tried to breath past his relief. "As soon as Hrothgar's funeral comes to pass." The thought of the kindly, proud dwarf's passing made Eragon's heartstrings twinge painfully, but he had learned the only way to keep his sanity was to focus on the present, not the past.
Arya stood abruptly, startling the other three. "You will require a new sword." Her napkin had fluttered to the ground, seeming as if brushed by an imaginary wind. Arya bent, plucking it up, but not before gently touching Eragon's arm. Her mind assiduously reached out to his. Meet me at Orik's tent after visiting Trianna… she has been harassing me to pass along a message to you. 'I need his wisdom,' were her exact words.
Arya replaced her napkin on the table as if their mental connection had not occurred. Her eyes roved over to Nasuada. "I will seek your council at a later time. I am needed elsewhere currently."
Eragon smiled slightly, murmuring in the ancient language, "Thank you." She gave him not but a fleeting glance and slight nod of the head before striding out of the tent.
Eragon turned his eyes back to Nasuada, who was gingerly picking apart a meaty pastry but eating none. Finally, she spoke. "Our small victory has given the men hope. The coming of the elves also fuels them. Yet there is so little food. The meat before you is from Orrin's last reserve. It will be salted and then stored, and hopefully then it will hold us off for a small period. When the elves arrive-"
"Worry not about their need for meat," Eragon interrupted, rather rudely yet hoping to squash at least one of the young ruler's problems. "None eat meat."
Nasuada did, in fact, look relived. "Well, you both must have pressing matters to attend to. You are free to leave. Oh, and Roran? Do invite your men to come in to eat some of this food. They were so helpful, it is the least I can do."
Roran gave a quick, uneasy bow, thanking her in his quiet way. As he opened the tent flap, Eragon caught the scent of the searing smell of decaying bodies from the sun. Eragon was becoming used to it, yet some looked ill. Men were working quickly to pile bodies and burn them, hoping to reduce the putrid stench… yet, it was only replaced by that of scorched flesh.
"…Eragon, if you would be so kind as to assist Elva?"
Eragon nodded, turning to the girl. Although he had learned so much and all he had mastered was filed away in his brain, simply waiting to be tapped into, he was worried. He had already brought so much pain on the girl –what if he only worsted things for her by pulling her divine sight away?
Coming to stand before her, Eragon looked at her tiny face, so benevolent, so cold… and she smiled, a bit wickedly, before saying, "Before my curse is lifted, Shadeslayer, I would have you know your potential doom… You will find family is not as strong of a bond as you would think. Soon, Shadeslayer. Soon you will find a link that is much more powerful then that of childhood."
Eragon closed himself to her words, feeling something inside of him shiver at her too-grown-up tone. He reached out to Elva, taking her face gently in his hands. "Live again as you had before I blessed you with your curse. Live again, child of the sapphire dragon, child of Saphira. Live again."
He felt his energy flood from his calloused fingertips and into the girl. He focused on the great balls of energy within her body, the pulsing charkas within her. He fought back the darkness that labored within them, fought for her impure body, being eaten whole by guilt and angry and those horrible visions…
After what felt like a sluggish century, actually only a brief moment, Elva pulled back, her large eyes astonished. "I… I'm not…" her voice, now trilling with a sweet childishness, murmured softly. She swallowed and whispered, "It feels so empty now… now without…" Her fingers stole away to her forehead beneath the fringe of dark bangs. The gedwey ignasia was no longer there.
As if dazed, Elva turned and wandered out, her feet shuffling as she went.
Eragon felt drained, yet he stood slowly, glancing over at Nasuada. "I did the right thing, did I not?"
Nasuada managed a bare imitation of a smile. "Even if it wasn't the right thing to do, you have reversed the horrible deed you had given her so long ago." She was silent for a time before sighing. "Trianna wishes to speak with you urgently."
Eragon did not feel like telling his liege that he already learned this from Arya, so he thanked her generously before heading out. Eragon made a loop around the tents, bound for the Du Vrangr Gata's headquarters –also known as Trianna's tent. He was not but five feet from it when the flap was flung open and the lovely sorceress herself strode out, looking furious. He mouth was opened, as if she was about to yell at him, but she faltered.
"Your energies are low, Rider. What have you done?" She stood aside, holding the tent flap open for him. He ducked into the darkened canvas room. The inside was not as lavish as Nasuada's, yet Eragon found it much more fascinating. There were dark mixtures everywhere; on the floor, in long-necked flasks, sitting on collapsible desks and shelves… and scrolls, as well. There was a tiny table, practically hidden under scrolls covered in the common tongue. Two goblets sat alert, as if waiting to be of usefulness.
"Sit," Trianna ordered when she graced in. Her long dark hair fell, slightly limp due to the humidity, down her back and around her thin form. Her pale arms reached to the top of one of her tall shelves, grabbing a flask. "What have you done to so drastically weaken yourself?" she repeated, her voice softer.
"I healed Elva," he replied, gratefully taking a seat at the table. "I'm sorry about not coming sooner. Last night I reconciled with my cousin and Arya only just told me of your need."
Trianna moved away from the shelf, bringing the flagon with her. She sat across from Eragon, pouring the two goblets with the dark liquid inside of the flask. "Drink," she ordered, not unkindly, before taking a draft of her own. Her body seemed to loosen and her muscles relaxed. Her body fell into the chair's shape with liquid ease.
Eragon took a hesitant sip, pleased when he found the taste to be that of crushed berries with a hint of spice. He felt his minor aches from the battle the day before ebb away. His pounding head and depleted magic seemed to recede. "What was that?" he asked, feeling much too good after just delving into such a deep spell.
Trianna smiled, a small twitch to her lips. "A home brew of mine. It helps replenish magic." She watched Eragon for a long moment, her beautiful blue eyes very heavy. It was slightly uncomfortable for Eragon –he could not deny a slight attraction for the sorceress… she was beautiful. But he was still pining over Arya, still hoping that some day she might return his feelings… It seemed wrong for him to have any outside attractions.
Finally, Trianna spoke. "As leader of the Du Vrangr Gata, I had to make a very difficult decision… what to do with the followers of the Twins. Oh yes," she murmured softly, laughing humorlessly, "they had followers. Still have followers." She swallowed, eyes going down to the woodwork of the table. A random scroll caught her eye. "It's treason, isn't it? I will have to kill them, won't I?"
Although he had not been particularly close with the sorceress, he knew that this confused unknowing was not how she normally was; he had never seen her so disturbed, so afraid, and he hoped he never would again. It took him three tries before he managed a soft, "It is… and you will. If you would rather, I could pass the word to Nasuada. She would take control of the matter if you-"
"No," Trianna said venomously, standing abruptly and beginning to pace. "No. I must show my worth if I am to lead the Du Vrangr Gata. If I cannot kill two men who disobey our Lady, then I have no right being here." She turned deep blue eyes onto Eragon. "Don't you agree?"
He was trapped. If he said yes, she might take offense. If he said no, that she would have leeway no mater what her action, he would be lying. He had heard the whispers –he, Eragon, should be the leader of the Du Vrangr Gata. But he didn't want the position, and he especially didn't want to make an adversary of Trianna. She was a good witch to have on his side, but she would no doubt be a formidable enemy. "I do."
She nodded; she seemed saddened but only whispered, "You should go, then. I will summon the two here and… It shall be taken care of."
Eragon nodded, standing. "Thank you, Trianna… for the potion," he murmured, slight uncomfortable. He put a hand on her shoulder, a soft, uncertain touch.
She smiled slightly up at him and repeated, "You should go… But don't hesitate to stop by some night if your dragon ceases to keep you warm enough."
Eragon left, feeling his cheeks aflame. He couldn't believe what he was experiencing. She was attractive, she was smooth talking, and she had a way about her that ensnared men. Eragon was not safe around her and he even feared her slightly. He feared her in the way he loved Arya –one's attraction was the dark and macabre, the other's was the mysterious beauty of nature.
He came face-to-face with the elf woman of his thoughts outside of Orik's tent. She looked slightly impatient. "I was wondering when Trianna would let you out of her talons long enough to come," she stated, turning on her heel and marching into the tent. Eragon sighed, following her in. Orik was sitting on a small pallet, another dwarf curled up in the corner, snoring fitfully.
"You'll be needing a sword," Orik said plainly. His voice was hardly as spirited as it had been before the war… before the casualties of that horrible day. "I can offer you a temporary one, one from the dwarvan line. But you must promise me to care for it until you find a suitable replacement," he said firmly.
"I swear it," he avowed solemnly.
"Right then," Orik murmured, pulling a long sword, even by human standards, from beneath his pallet. He offered it to the Rider, murmuring, "This is said to be the legendary weapon of our creator. Cherish it as if it were your own limb."
Eragon closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and grasping the hilt. "Thank you, Orik," he whispered, feeling the beginnings of gratitude tears behind his lids.
"Do not thank me," he murmured, glancing up at Eragon with a small smile. "Thank Arya for talking me into such an act of foolishness."
…
Author's note:
I must first apologise for the first chapter being a bit on the slow side. I am trying to pace myself when it comes to this story, much as Master Paolini does. Also, another point I want to make here, the slight attraction between Eragon and Trianna means nothing. I promise. I may delve into a little something between the two, but they will BY NO MEANS be the coupling in this story. (That was to cover my own ass from the A/E shippers.)