[PMoore]

Ok so here it is my own attempt at writing book four because lets face it were all already sick of waiting for CP to do it. I have not written fan-fiction for this genre before, I tend to hang out more in the Star Wars universe, but please let me know what you think.

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Chapter One: Stolen Moments.

Nasuada stared absent mindedly at the interior of her room in Feinster’s keep. Her eye’s taking in the large desk, almost three yards wide and two long and made from some dark hard wood from the area local to Feinster with a correspondingly large pile of small white squares, each an urgent message or report or grievance that the varied members of the Varden felt that only she could solve.

She continued to stare absently willing the information on the page before her enter her brain but her mind kept drifting, swimming lazily into the past to when she didn’t feel the crushing weight of the hopes of the free races pressing hard against her shoulders. Back to when she didn’t feel at every moment the deep penetrating sense of loneliness that had abided within her since her father’s death and her rise to Leader of the Varden.

The images began to surface again and she viscously suppressed them, breathing deeply of the sea air wafting through the open window, concentrating with renewed vigour at the report of Thorn and Murtagh’s most recent sightings as he had winged his way across Alagaesia.

She scowled realising that all it had taken was the report’s title to send her off to that walled off section in her mind where she tried to block out even herself, alas as with all such defences the tiniest lapse in concentration allowed entrance and the memories of her father’s last days came forth instantly blurring the page she wanted with all her heart to read...

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Nasuada ran her hand down the fine red velvet of her new dress, the new Grimstcarvlorss of the Ingeitum Clan, Hvedra, the betrothed of Orik, had commissioned it for her last birthday and this was the first time she had worn it. She was going to the dragon hold later in the morning and she wanted to impress the rider, she adjusted her belt and settled the small dagger in its leather sheaf into its accustomed place at her side where long experience would automatically guide her hand in case her next meeting was more dangerous than she anticipated.

Satisfied with her appearance and preparedness Nasuada took two slow breaths calm her mind, and then tapped twice on the thick oak door before her. Convincing the five guards arrayed around the door that she had been sent by her father had been easy, the entire Varden where used to her performing as Ajihad’s runner and hand.

The guard stationed within the chamber opened the door and blinked twice at Nasuada before nodding curtly and announcing to his prisoner, “Lady Nasuada to see you, make sure you show the proper respect,” before stepping out of the chamber and bowing her in, the common soldiers all loved Nasuada for the fierce loyalty and ingenuity she showed in service to Ajihad.

Holding her head high Nasuada strode into the room taking in its modest furnishings; washbasin, writing desk, bed. Her eyes passed over the intricately carved figures of Knurla gods and clan symbols etched into the ceiling and the rich warm rug that covered the floor, as she had entered the comfortable room a tall young man with unkempt sun-bleached brown hair had been jumping to his feet, he did a double take when he saw her. Nasuada sighed, another who was unnerved by her skin colour.

On the contrary to her first opinion however Murtagh Morzansson cocked his head at a slight angle his eyes, twinkling with curiosity and the hint of a smile of pleasant surprise touching his otherwise blank tanned face. “My Lady,” he said with a short respectful bow, “I assume you’re related to Ajihad?”

“Yes I am his daughter,” replied Nasuada as her stomach fluttered slightly as her brown eye’s met his grey stare, “I am pleased to meet you, I would see if you need anything, after such a journey you must be tired and I wanted to make sure that you were being properly cared for.”

“Why thank you my Lady,” Murtagh replied, “I am being well cared for, although,” he paused seeming embarrassed, “I am somewhat bored if I’m honest, it’s been years since I had so little to do, I’ve been travelling with Eragon for weeks, before that I was following the Ra’zac, and before that I was in hiding from the Empire.” He looked down the pleasant smile vanishing as he seemed to look within himself.

“Well the dwarves have a grand library here in Tronjheim,” Nasuada replied shocked at herself for how much she instantly wanted to help the scruffy young man stood before her, she evaluated him again taking in his bedraggled appearance, scruffy hair desperately in need of a trim, the patchy beard that had begun to grow after his breakneck flight across the Hadarac Desert and through the Beor Mountain range, his clothing was bloodstained and travel worn but must at some point been well tailored and grand.

“I could see about bringing you some texts to read, and maybe some personal grooming implements?” She grinned at her own daring, was she flirting? There was no doubt he was attractive even in his unkempt state.

He grinned back at her a charming twinkle appearing in his eyes, “That would be most appreciated my lady, it has been sometime since I have even looked in a mirror, I am ashamed to be so presented before a woman as beautiful as yourself.” She felt the blush travel up her body grateful that her skin colour would hide the primal reaction to his compliment.

“I will see to it then, perhaps a change of clothing would be nice as well? Your current ensemble seems somewhat...” she paused trying to think of an appropriate descriptive.

“Disgusting?” he suggested plucking at his shirt revealing holes earned in his service to the rider, “Filthy? Worn? I see you must have grand tailors here in the home of the Dwarves to supply you with such clothing, why even the Ladies of Galbatorix’s court would be ashamed of themselves compared with you.” His smile had grown revealing his white, even teeth as he again complimented her.

“I was trying to think of a nicer way of putting it,” Nasuada replied smiling back at him and feeling her heart quicken at his words. “I’m afraid I must leave, I will arrange for some reading material and the personal items we discussed be brought to you post haste, it would never do to have people think that the Varden treated anyone poorly when they have performed so many admirable feasts on their behalf.” She smiled at him in return, and was delighted to see a faint flush colour his cheeks. And with that she began to move towards the door, reaching the solid oak barrier she tapped twice.

“I am going to see the rider shortly, can I pass a message to him for you?” she asked as she waited for the guards outside to undo the bolt and open the door, a different guard this time entering to supervise son of one of the Varden’s greatest enemies.

“Only a request that he does not forget me and my desire to see and speak to him,” he smiled at her again, “I’m afraid your guards are under orders not to speak with me, after so long travelling with Eragon and Saphira I am feeling somewhat lonely, abandoned to my fate.”

“It shall be as you request,” Nasuada said as she said, “farewell friend of rider.” As she left she saw out of the corner of her eye the young man bow towards her as she left, a grin spreading across her face once again.

With door firmly closed and bolted once again she turned to the leader of the guards, “make arrangements for a razor, mirror and fresh clothing to be delivered to the prisoner, I will be back down to speak with him some more later.” The captain nodded once accepting her orders without question.

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Later that evening, Nasuada found herself once more standing before the oak door waiting for a different guard captain to open the door for her, he looked at the scrolls clutched under her arms curiously but refrained from asking about them, or the purpose of her visit.

The change in Murtagh’s appearance was startling cleanly shaven, hair trimmed and dressed in a clean white shirt and black trousers he was incredibly handsome. Again he jumped to his feet and bowed to her, that half grin of his setting her stomach a flutter.

“My Lady,” Murtagh greeted her.

“Please call me Nasuada,” she replied, why on earth was she being so informal?

“Nasuada,” Murtagh tried again, his grin never wavering as his grey eye’s bored into hers.

“I’ve spoken to Eragon, has he been to see you yet?” Nasuada enquired.

“No not yet,” Murtagh replied somewhat testily, “obviously the great rider has better things to do than to meet with lowly prisoners.”

“Undoubtedly he is tired,” Nasuada defended, “after all he has been dealing with Dwarven, Varden and Magician politics all day.”

“Aye, I suppose,” Murtagh growled, his eyes lighted upon the scrolls she was carrying and gazed hungrily at them, “did you get pick these out yourself?” He asked shocked.

“Yes, I’m afraid I don’t know your taste so I selected some of my personal favourites for you,” Nasuada replied, glad that his dark mood was lifting, “I chose a history of Alagaësia for you, it covers the entirety of human history on this continent, also my favourite anthology of poetry, and a few of my favourite epics, they should see you through for a while.” She set the scrolls down on the scarred surface of the writing desk and leaned against it facing him.

“Please my lady do sit down, I imagine you have been performing countless tasks since I saw you this morning,” Murtagh said moving forward to within a foot of her and pulling out the sturdy embroidered chair from beneath the desk.

“Thank you, but please, Nasuada,” she said, sitting gratefully upon the chair, it had been a long strenuous trip up to the dragon hold and back down, despite the pulley’s and the library itself was in the opposite quadrant of Tronjheim to Murtagh’s quarters.

“My apologies being raised in the Imperial Court deeply instilled this respect for women of such obvious nobility,” Murtagh replied, “and of such beauty.” He continued after a moment’s hesitation.

Nasuada blushed again smiling all the while, “thank you,” she said simply, “it is nice to simply be complimented by one with such an excess of experience,” she fired this warning shot at him just to let him know she would broke no insults, but she believed him to be genuine so her reply lacked force.

“Not experience my lady, only eyes,” Murtagh replied as he moved and sat on his mattress facing her, that maddening grin still plastered over his face.

They bantered back and forth for the next several hours, Nasuada had the guards bring in a meal for the two of them and they companionably broke their fast together. During the course of the meal Murtagh began to tell her some of his history, his life at the court, and his meetings with the black king, then his subsequent escape, and his deep sorrow at the death of his friend and mentor a man named Tornac. He then continued to go onto describe his travels with Eragon.

During this time Nasuada shared some of her experiences never going into too much detail about her work with the Varden just in case her instinct was wrong and he really was a spy, but still they passed the time happily enough.

When they finally seemed to have run out of topics of conversation Murtagh stood and walked to the writing desk, leaning so close that Nasuada could feel his breath against her neck he bent and plucked the scroll of poetry from the table and returned to the bed.

“The works of Mtal of Kuasta?” Murtagh read aloud surprise in his voice, “I have read this many times, he is one of my favourite poets,” he looked at her appraisingly, “I thank you Lady Nasuada, she of the excellent taste in literature.”

Nasuada was surprised that he knew of the poet, to ensure he was not paying her an idle compliment she shot back, “my favourite poem in that anthology is the Lay of the Grey Surf.”

“Really?” Murtagh replied, “I found it to be one of his weaker works, created when he was very young, I find the Tale of the Winter Ocean to be much more compelling.” The twinkle in his eye returned, “but I think your testing me, my Lady, I have not lied, not to you or your father.”

“I believe you,” Nasuada replied softly getting to her feet, “I will speak to my father on your behalf,” she turned towards the door, “by the way I was testing you the Tale of the Winter Ocean is my true favourite.”

“I can see why,” Murtagh replied, he opened the scroll and read aloud.

“And across the endless sea, came my true love, sailing across the winter ocean, ‘tween white capped 'bergs, and wind whipped surf, returning to me once more.”

Nasuada sighed this alone confirmed in her heart Murtagh’s good nature, she smiled at his and on impulse moved back to him and lightly brushed her lips across his cheek, “I will speak to you tomorrow, Murtagh.” And without another word she moved to the door tapped twice upon it and left the room.

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Releasing a frustrated sigh Nasuada rammed closed the barriers within her mind, focusing on the report and noting that Murtagh and Thorn had been seen returning to Urû'baen, Thorn appeared sorely wounded by battle with the great dragon Glaedr. The description of his wounds matched that given by Eragon on the morning after the battle.

It appeared that the opposing rider and dragon would be out of action for a while; this was encouraging news allowing Nasuada to contemplate many daring moves in her never ending game of strategy against the forces of the Empire.

This could be the Varden’s big chance to make significant gains against the Empire, debating her options Nasuada pulled a map from the piles in front of her and began to move her forces in her mind...

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This post has been edited by PMoore: 27 September 2009 - 09:15 AM

[hrothgarknurlan]

Yes! I am the first to post!

Anyway, that was really great start. I have rarely seen an opening chapter that was so compellingly well written, and I noticed no spelling or grammar mistakes. I think you are portraying Nasuada well, and I look forward to seeing where you take this!

[Purgatory]

I'm thoroughly impressed and will definitely be reading here - you write very, very well. ^^

As hrothgarknurlan said, you capture Nasuada's character very well too - if you can do the same with the other main characters then this will be awesome.

[BlazingBlade1]

It's a good start.

[Polynesian]

I hardly ever comment on new stories, but this is special. Never before have I seen such good M/N scene. Never. And I have read fanfics for a very long time now. You captured the characters really well. I especially liked how you portrayed Murtagh in this. I believe you used the word grin a bit too much, though - Murtagh was grinning ALL the time! I didn't spot smile at all, but grin...

Other than that, it was indeed awesome. I hope you continue quickly

[jsquared0905]

If you can keep your Nasuada POV up, you can do for Nasuada fanfic wise what I did for Arya. You definitely have something, and yes, like Uzeeh said, no one has done a Nasuada/Murtagh that well.

Unfortunately, I daresay I will follow this much if the emphasis ends up on Murtagh/Nasuada. This first chapter was great, one of the best 1st chapters I have seen.

[Slayers or Shades]

Woah, that's something new
A MxN Chapter to start with

I don't have any other word than this one:

AWESOME!!!

I think that you should continue writing,
You're story have few grammatical errors in it (if not none)
And also, it has potential

I hope you can update soon

[PMoore]

hrothgarknurlan: Thank you very much I was very unsure of this chapter as I'm not a massive fan of Nasuada or Murtagh for that matter, it wouldn't really bother me if they passed into the void but I got bitten by a couple of missing moment scenes for them that should bring their relationship forward nicely. I have to say I felt a bit out of depth without spaceships, lightsabers and force powers!

Purgatory: Thanks! Your making me blush! Well we'll see what you think of my Eragon in the next chapter!

BlazingBlade1: Thank you.

Uzeeh: Thanks! I know Murtagh seemed to grin a lot but he's had a rough old time of late and Nasuada is meant to be very pretty... Haven't you met a member of the opposite sex and not be able to stop grinning at them, or your fortune for meeting them or is that just me?

jsquared0905: Thanks! I'm nearly finished with Boreal (sp?) and I'm loving it so that means a lot! I'm hoping to make it more of an all rounder, trying not to go quite so single character centric as CP.

Slayers or Shades: Thank you! I only went with MxN to start with as it would be kind of hard to lead into, its very much a stand alone chapter, I originally started writing it as such but got bitten by the bunnies! Your wish is my command, here is the next chapter!

Thanks for the reviews they made my day!

Chapter Two: Reflections and Misunderstandings

Eragon sat upon the bluff resting on a rock covered in a bright green moss that could have rivalled a dragon’s scales with its brilliant hue, staring out at the roiling grey mass ahead that was the sea, with his enhanced sight he could just make out coast of Nía in the far distance. It was the second day since the battles of Feinster and Gil’ead, the second day since the slaying of the shade Varaug, and the second day since his ebrithil, his master had been slain by the dark king Galbatorix.

Eragon looked down into his hands at the large gem like object clutched in his hands a faint golden light swirled within it twisting and coiling much like the waves of the sea before him. He tentatively stretched his mind towards the object and again all he met was the impenetrable barrier of Glaedr’s grief.

Sighing deeply he stowed the Eldunari within its tough cloth sack and sat and stared out at the sea, his eye’s not taking in a single thing in front of him, his mind alert to all around him whilst at the same time wrestling with his own grief at the death of Oromis, whilst this took a fair amount of his attention his mind was inexorably pulled in the direction of the elven princess and ambassador Arya.

Little one, Saphira chastised, that is not what you are meant to be contemplating, your situation with Arya will not be resolved by your constant attention, Saphira made a rude noise that rose from her second stomach where her fire started, especially when she is not here for you to make a fool of yourself with.

I know, but still my mind seems to be out of my control concerning the regularity that I think of her, Eragon replied to the partner of his mind and heart, She hasn’t spoken to us for two days, I know that’s not uncommon but still I would like to speak to her as a friend if nothing else, no offense but I could use a ‘two-leg’ conversation, someone who might have the slightest chance of understanding my incoherent babble.

You know that in your current emotional state you will do something foolish, Saphira retorted with a snort, just like every other time...

Come now Saphira, I have displayed my new maturity and self control many times over since the Agaetí Blödhren, Eragon retorted, especially on that long trip back from Helgrind. Eragon winced as her displeasure came rolling across their bond, his forcing her to leave him was still something of a sore subject between them, though she had long ago accepted the necessity of his actions she still didn’t approve the way he constantly did what he felt was right rather than what was smart and safe.

I suppose you have, Saphira admitted grudgingly, that still doesn’t mean it’s a good idea for you to be talking to Arya in your current state.

Eragon evaluated her words carefully and compared them with his own thoughts and feelings normally they were in accord but on this one subject they rarely agreed with one another. On one hand she was right talking to Arya when he was in an emotional frame of mind had always gone badly in the past, especially if there were no chaperones about to bind his tongue, on the other hand their most recent interactions had seen a remarkable growth in their relationship.

Arya was now much more open with him, especially concerning her past, and her feelings, he just didn’t dare probe too deeply as too what her current feelings towards him were in case he said the wrong thing and she stopped talking to him again. The last time that had happened had caused him such incredible heart ache and pain that for a time even Saphira wouldn’t meld with him to their usual level.

Eragon! Saphira roared Focus! We’re meant to be trying to think of ways to end this war not of your chances of procreating!

Sorry, Eragon dragged his mind back on topic, Ok I think I need to try and find Solembum again, he suggested for the seventh or eighth time.

Pointless, Saphira replied, He will not elaborate further on his statements, I have asked him every time I am in range of his mind, and all you want to do is ask Angela about her prophecy concerning your ‘epic romance’, back on topic!

Ok, Eragon grumbled he emptied his mind going to his meditative state, the Varden were two leagues down the coast so he had no chance of freaking out those who would sense his metal probes. Eragon often found that entering this state helped him to come up with answers that his brain simply couldn’t fathom at other times, maybe the simplicity of the thoughts of the lesser animals and the slow pulse of the plant life showed him alternative perspectives, maybe it just relaxed him enough to think.

Ever since he and Saphira had learnt where Galbatorix was gathering his endless supply of energy from they had been trying hard to find a way to separate, rescue, nullify the Eldunari in his possession, and if necessary to kill them. Eragon felt sick at this thought he was truly sick of taking lives and the idea of slaying the souls of the great dragons was almost more abhorrent to him than taking the lives of men, dwarves, elves and urgals or indeed any creature, sentient or not.

I won’t kill them, He informed Saphira, Not if there is any other way; I just need to find one!

Keep thinking little one, I’m sure you’ll come up with something, Saphira encouraged, and I have faith in you to do the right thing. This last was said with a hint of sarcasm but Eragon appreciated the support none the less.

This is useless, he grumbled, let’s get back to Feinster, maybe we can actually be of use there, I’m sure the answer will present itself in time.

With that he stood flexing his legs a few time as he attempted to restore feeling to them, despite the exceptionally spongy section of moss he had initially selected to sit on his extended meditations had left his body sore. Tucking Glaedr’s Eldunari back into Saphira’s saddle bags as he climbed up her leg and onto her shoulder coming to a rest between the spikes at a small hollow at the base of her neck where his saddle nestled.

Without a word Saphira crouched and then leapt into the air her huge wings unfurling like huge blue sails as they swept down pushing them steadily higher into the air.

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Mere moments later Eragon dropped from Saphira in the courtyard of Feinster’s keep, he removed her saddle and bags with a speed that spoke of long practice and stowed them within the small store room adjacent to the paved area that he had commandeered for the purpose.

A whisper of movement behind him alerted him to the arrival of this elven guards, assigning two to watch the store room and guard the precious soul hidden within, he had sworn the guards to secrecy regarding the Eldunari in the Ancient Language immediately after the battle and his subsequent meeting with Nasuada and Arya.

Looking up at the high tower he had assaulted from the top the previous morning Eragon saw Nasuada, his liege lord, standing on the balcony through which Saphira could enter the great hall at the penultimate level of the keep.

Mentally instructing Saphira to wait for him Eragon entered the imposing structure of the stone keep and began the long climb to the level where all senior members of the Varden were staying, taking advantage of their victory and sleeping in real beds for a change as a reward for the long campaign that they had endured so far to reach that point.

Eragon went straight to his room shielding his mind to the point that he only gathered surface impressions of the people around him rather than their thoughts, entering his room he looked about, everything was as he left it, the bed in disarray, his possessions strewn across the floor on one side of his bed, and his armour was piled haphazardly in a corner where he had ripped it off the previous morning after the battle he saw that it was caked blood, rust and had numerous nicks in the exquisitely crafted chain mail, grimacing he composed himself then uttered three words in the Ancient Language that would clean and repair his armour, he felt a momentary drain on his energy causing him to lean against the wall for support before his strength returned to him.

Looking round the room, Eragon moved about tidying up a bit, making his bed, making sure his belongings were all in his pack ready for him to move out at any moment, he was all too used to setting off at the drop of a hat to not keep himself at constant readiness.

Advancing to the small basin set into one corner of the room Eragon quickly washed and dressed in a fresh black tunic of elven manufacture. Glancing at the mirror Eragon realised that he had neglected to shave that morning, again he muttered a few words and a black powder fell from his face leaving him cleanly shaven and much more presentable. Satisfied with his appearance Eragon left his chamber.

Eragon moved up the stairs of the keep moving towards where in his mind’s eye he could see the fires that signified Nasuada and Arya were waiting for him ready to discuss their plans for the next move of the Varden.

Moving to the large doors that granted entrance to the great hall he paused for a moment to allow Nasuada’s personal guards, the Nighthawks, to announce his presence, which they did by tapping their halberds twice and shouting “Eragon Shadeslayer, my lady,” they awaited a response before raising their weapons and granting him access.

The room was much as it had been the previous morning, minus three dead magicians, he could see the scrapes and crushed stones where Saphira had collapsed and writhed when they had been watching Glaedr and Oromis fight Murtagh and Thorn.
The two Urgals of the current shift of the Nighthawks stared sullenly and without waiting for Nasuada’s orders began to move so as to go stand outside the doors with the other guards, The Nighthawks had long since grown accustomed to leaving Arya, Nasuada and Eragon in private.

“My Lady,” Eragon bowed perfunctorily to his liege, turning to Arya he half smiled and twisted his hand over his chest in the Elven gesture of respect and greeted her, “Shadeslayer.”

Arya returned the gesture and with the tiniest possible hint of a smile returned his greeting with a murmured “Shadeslayer.”

It was at the chuckle from the chair that was facing away from him, towards Nasuada, that Eragon realised that there was a third woman in the room, the Lady Lorana, former ruler of the city of Feinster. She had been forced, Eragon, knew to swear oaths in the Ancient Language to serve Galbatorix so he was somewhat surprised to see her there at the table.

“My Lady,” Eragon bowed again, “It is a pleasure to meet you again, and how are you after the stresses of yesterday?”

“As I was saying to your lovely wife here, I am fully recovered,” Lady Lorana replied with a nod towards Arya.

Nasuada’s lips twitched with amusement whilst Eragon blinked twice and glancing nervously at Arya whose jaw had clenched and her crossed arms entire posture seemed to have been set in stone at being referred to as Eragon’s wife replied, “Arya is not my wife merely my friend and colleague, Lady Lorana, I address her as Shadeslayer because as like me she succeeded in defeating one of the monstrous creatures, surely you remember Varaug?”

“Oh my mistake, I’m sorry my dears it was just seeing how close you two were yesterday I assumed you were together,” Lady Lorana replied looking between the elf and the rider, “I certainly have never been so close to a man who wasn’t my husband.” Here Lady Lorana’s tone became slightly disapproving, and Eragon realised that from an outsider’s point of view the actions of himself and Arya toward each other must have looked truly odd indeed.

From Lady Lorana’s mind surfaced images of Arya leaning over Eragon her forehead pressed to his, then of Eragon’s look of panic when he saw the shade holding Arya above the ground by her neck, then his look of determination as he battled with the creatures mind before yelling, “get him,” as Arya stabbed the foul creature, then his and Arya’s conversation in some strange language that Lorana didn’t understand before Arya seemed to sag against Eragon’s shoulder sobbing.

Raising his shields a bit higher to block these images Eragon risked a glance at Arya whose face remained in its standard stoic mask, although risking a second glance he noticed the tips of her ears reddening, he doubted that anyone other than himself would have noticed the change. Nasuada looked between the Elven Ambassador and the Dragon Rider before clearing her throat, “Arya and Eragon are a good team, and their special bond is what makes them so effective.”

Arya and Eragon’s heads preformed identical movements towards Nasuada, then each other, before they both looked away in opposite directions, this prompted another chuckle from Lady Lorana, Saphira, come join us please, Eragon sent pleadingly, before I get in trouble for someone else’s comments.

On my way, although he felt her amusement at his and Arya’s discomfort he still heard the thuds of her wings compressing the air as she rose from the courtyard to enter the hall through the same balcony as the previous morning.

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Hope you all like it as much as my last chapter...

This post has been edited by PMoore: 16 June 2009 - 01:28 AM

[Slayers or Shades]

Hmmm... Nice swift from the MxN, though I hope you'll continue with that as well

ROFL!!!!!!!

Lady Lorana's remarks!!!!!... soooo funny....

*falls of his chair and rolls on the floor of laughing*

-half hour time skip-

*gets back to his chair and continue's to write the comment*

You made it very well, also it gave a little bit of an edge tot the ExA relation, but in a good way

I have to say, I'm not easily addicted to a story in such early stage, but I am to yours already

I hope you can update soon again, so I have something to read when I wake up tomorrow

Your addicted reader,

Slayers of Shades

[PMoore]

Slayers or Shades: Thanks glad you liked it, I originally got the idea for the Lorana comments from the Eragon and Arya thread in the Brisingr sub-forum, it cracked me up and I had to put it in. Well here you go then, Saphira this time. Don't worry I've not forgotten about Murtagh, its just hard to do anything with him when he's stuck in Uru'baen, I may have to work on that...

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Chapter Three: Assignments and Feelings

Saphira landed heavily on the patio balcony, she felt the floor shudder delightfully as it strained to accommodate her size and weight. Gently easing her way into the great hall, she noticed with amusement the expressions on Arya-Svit-Kona-Pointed-Ears-Beloved-Of-My-Partner and Eragon-Partner-Stonehead-Little-One’s faces she hoped Eragon wouldn’t say anything stupid to Arya today, Eragon truly was clueless around her when he didn’t have plenty of time to apologise for his actions, and when he did well... he usually made it right in the end... eventually...

Despite her comments to him earlier, Saphira really did care for his happiness and she knew that if he continued to dwell on the female elf before them that he would only end up in pain. Not that the elf would not be suitable for him, on the contrary Saphira knew of no other two-leg female she would allow to be so close and intimate with her rider. Well maybe Sharp-Tongue-Hard-Hand-Oddness-Incarnate Angela if only for the simple reason that life would never be boring.

She settled her massive bulk mostly within the hall leaving her tail twitch out on the balcony where she could feel the air pressure on her scintillating scales. She inclined her head towards the human women in the room, affectionately licked Eragon’s arm said, Greetings Shadeslayer to Arya, who smiled up at her and made the elves gesture of fealty and respect and said with her mind Greetings Bjartskular Saphira favoured her with a slight nudge on her still stiff shoulder.

Eragon shot her a look of annoyance that only she could read, from their bond she knew that his annoyance sprang from his jealousy towards both females. Saphira for being allowed physical contact with Arya and Arya for receiving the token of love and respect from Saphira, her partner-of-mind-and-heart really was selfish sometimes. She stuck her long barbed tongue out at him drawing smiles from both Arya and Eragon.

Saphira then laid her head down and began to feel bored instantly as Nightstalker-Desert-Wind-Nasuada began to discuss with Lorana-Bound-to-Egg-Breaker what would happen to the city now. Saphira stopped following this discussion almost immediately if it was important she would sense it from her Eragon, for now though he was still casting thinly veiled glances and Arya, his attention as hers wavering.

Most strangely Arya didn’t seem particularly interested in the discussion either she also kept looking at Eragon, fortunately for both they had missed each other’s looks so far. But that would only be for a matter of time. Saphira needed to make sure neither of them did anything stupid, but how?

Fortunately Nasuada questioned Arya and Eragon closely regarding the oaths that Lady Lorana had been made to swear to the Black-King-Egg-Breaker-Galbatorix, as was the nature of all such vows in the Ancient Language Eragon and Arya soon managed to find a loop hole with which to convince Lorana that she had changed her mind, making the statement she had made no longer true in the present and releasing her from her oath.

Satisfied, Nasuada released Lady Lorana to administer to the city as she and her family had done for the previous four generations, with suitable chaperones from the Varden to guard, advise and learn from her. Saphira studied Nasuada noting as she did so that Nasuada no longer wore bandages upon her arms; the scars were not quite closed and were scabbed over filling the room with the intoxicating tang of human blood. Her tongue flicked out almost against her will rolling the taint around her taste buds.

Eragon scowled as he sensed her reaction over their bond, “My Lady, what is my next assignment I’m thankful for the rest I have gotten since yesterday but I feel the need to press on with our work.”

“I assumed you would want to attend Glaedr and Oromis’s funeral?” Nasuada replied looking surprised, Arya also looked taken aback by Eragon’s statement. Normally, like all dragons, Saphira was terrible at deciphering two-leg emotions and facial expressions but she knew those before her so well that she could almost imagine how their tales would be twitching.

“The elves do not worship, Oromis and Glaedr will be cremated and scattered into the wind, where their ashes will help the world to grow and renew,” Eragon replied, “he has moved to the void and the greatest way I can think to honour him is to continue you the work he started and laid out for me.”

Saphira could see her Arya-Thought-Image-Tail spasm with surprise and she noticed that Arya’s face had lost some of its Chiselled-From-Granite-Aloofness as she stared at Eragon with a thoughtful look. Her own tail slapped the floor with amusement What? Eragon asked.

Nothing Little-One Saphira said proudly, You continue to amaze even me, that is all

Ummm... Thanks I think? Eragon replied confused.

Nasuada evaluated this for a moment then smiled happily, “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me Eragon,” she smiled at him revealing her small-straight-human teeth, bizarre, two-legs actually considered them worthy of notice. “To be honest most of my immediate plans I made assuming you were leaving for Gil’ead.” Nasuada pulled out a Map from a stack of papers piled haphazardly upon her desk, and laid it on a nearby table where Saphira would be able to see it as well; onto it she had scribbled small neat notations and arrows in charcoal upon them.

From them Saphira deduced that Nasuada was daringly going to push against both Melian and Belatona simultaneously, a bold plan, especially if you were expecting to be without Dragon Rider support, Saphira said to the group, impressed with the sheer audacity of the plan.

“Yes but one of reports showed Murtagh and Thorn limping into Urû’baen with most of his tail tucked between his legs,” Nasuada replied smiling slightly at her own wit, “From your estimations, Eragon, it will take Thorn weeks to recover from such wounds, even with magic?”

“I would have thought so, although Murtagh and Galbatorix have strange powers, so I would rather be cautious with time estimates, I don’t think we can count on more than two weeks, maybe three if we’re lucky,” Eragon replied bluntly, to Saphira it seemed he spoke with a new authority, and power that he had not possessed prior to his discovery of his father and his ascension to the position of Elder Rider.

Saphira watched as Arya shifted imperceptibly moving perhaps as much as two centimetres towards her rider, not noticeable to two legs, this shift was clearly visible to the dragon who immediately clouded that section of her mind from her rider, he didn’t notice either event. This kept getting more interesting, she had had very little to do with Arya since setting off for Orik’s coronation, she wondered what had happened to the elf to so shatter her calm, thinking long on this subject Saphira realised Eragon and Arya had, with exception of the latter part of the battle the previous day, not really been together at all since their trip through the empire together. Saphira decided they needed careful supervision.

“Thank you Eragon,” Nasuada replied, “still three week’s was the minimum time scale I worked out for my current plans, I plan to divide the Varden into two parties, one under myself and your cousin and the other under Orrin and Jörmundur, whilst they go to Melian, Roran and I will lead the remainder of the Army to Belatona, the influx of volunteers we’ve had from the surrounding countryside in the last day has been astounding, it also makes it a virtual necessity for us to split up, we are becoming too large to feed martching as a single army.”

“It will take at least two weeks to get the army to the two separate cities, not to mention all the towns and hamlets they will have to go through,” Eragon replied, not really objecting to Nasuada’s plans, not yet anyway, but merely making sure he understood the entire tactical picture, again a sign of his massive personal growth Saphira thought.

“Yes, with people willing to join in each one,” Nasuada replied, “by my estimates, both armies could well grow by a third before they reached their target.”

“That sounds generous,” Eragon said, but over her bond she felt his acceptance of Nasuada’s fine tactical skill and admiration for the way she manoeuvred her way to targets only she could see, she wouldn’t be out of place playing elven politics, Saphira decided.

“Maybe a little but, I’m feeling optimistic today,” Nasuada admitted, “however your right, that is a long time for you to be wasting staying here with me, I have another assignment for you to accomplish whilst the army is moving, and you Arya if you are willing.”

Nasuada turned to the elf in time to catch the openly evaluating look she was giving Eragon, Saphira snorted to distract Eragon, and also because she was beginning to get one of those feelings about this ‘assignment’.

“Together?” Arya and Eragon spoke at the same moment, and Saphira felt her discomfort grow.

“Yes for my plan it is imperative that we get fresh intelligence regarding the other cities on our path,” Nasuada replied, her lips twitching again as she regarded the elf and the rider. Saphira had a really bad feeling about this...

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Ok so this one is a little shorter than the previous two, but in my defence Saphira POV's are difficult.

This post has been edited by PMoore: 16 June 2009 - 02:36 AM

[Slayers or Shades]

ANGELA!!!!!

ROFL!!!!

*falls of his chair, again, laughing*

-this time a 3 hours time skip -

*gets back on his chair

Okay, that made me laugh

Anyway, great chapter, I think you're one of the best with Saphira-pov's so far

I hope you can update soon again

Your addicted reader,

Slayers of shades

[Arya Shadeslayer]

Brilliant, love your story so far, hope you will keep it going.

[hrothgarknurlan]

Once again, those chapters were great! This is an extremely high-quality fanfic, and I enjoyed the Lady Lorana comment and the Angela remark very much,! You do very nicely with the personalities of the various characters, and please keep up the good work!

Is this ExA? I assumed it was, but you haven't said.

[Purgatory]

I am, once again, very impressed PMoore.

You captured Saphira very well - the POV was done almost perfectly. I would just like to note that I feel like you overdid the 'describing thought' thingy somewhat. (For example 'Sharp-Tongue-Hard-Hand-Oddness-Incarnate Angela' seems somewhat long. Perhaps the 'oddness incarnate' could be left out (although it's a nice touch ))

While I do love ExA, I hope you don't get them together too soon in the story. I don't know if you have it all planned already, but personally I would go with the main story of trying to beat Galbatorix/Murtagh and all that, and make the ExA romance a side story (though not unimportant, of course). Just make the development between them somewhat 'go along the way'.
Again, that's just my idea - if you have different ideas then you should definitely go with yours

Looking forward to your updates, I'm hooked already (that doesn't happen often, especially this soon).

[Polynesian]

Great to see that the level of quality didn't drop after chapter one Actually, if possible, it went upwards. I am amazed by your talent at all POVs. That was a very good dragon point of view, one of the best I've seen. You were especially good in the baby-talk

I loved how you showed so good emotions in the Saphira POV. The most interesting parts were IMO when she watched Arya. Really good descriptions. All your chapters so far have also been the perfect size.

Well, keep it up, and update soon. Don't rush it, though ;D