Chapter 1: A Different Princess
Eragon leaned against Saphira with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. The young Rider was meditating in peace away from the cacophony of sounds that the Varden were constantly making. Two days ago the Rider and his companion had slayer the shade, Varaug, but their victory was tarnished by the deaths of Eragon and Saphira’s masters, Oromis and Glaedr.
Tears came to Eragon’s eyes as he thought of their deaths. He wondered,
How will I ever be able to forgive Murtagh, even if he changed his true name, after what he has done.
You will either find a way or you won’t, either way thinking about it will do naught but bring you pain, Saphira said soothingly.
Perhaps that is so, but after their actions at Gil’ead I find it hard to believe that I will ever forgive them, Eragon replied as tears came to his eyes once again. Murtagh was a complicated person to Eragon. On one hand the man had saved his life, multiple times, but on the other he was forced to serve Galbatorix, making them enemies. He had taken every opportunity possible to try and help Murtagh break his allegiances to the king and rejoin him, but had failed each time.
The tears began streaming down his face once again as he pondered the fate of his half-brother. Saphira touched his forehead with her snout and did her best to alleviate his pain and suffering, but was unable to.
He continued crying for what seemed like hours, only to stop abruptly as he managed to regain his composure. In a tone that betrayed little to no emotion he said,
I’m sure Nasuada and Arya are starting to wonder where we are. Do you think we should contact them or return?
Contact Arya, I have a feeling that she is in the same situation as you are, little one. Eragon nodded and retrieved a mirror from his pack. He found carrying the mirror far more convenient than summoning water from the ground each time he wanted to scry someone. He muttered a spell of scrying and Arya slowly appeared in the mirror. She was sitting in her tent, crying like Eragon was at the death of their masters. Eragon knew Arya had been close with Oromis, and probably Glaedr too. In a soothing voice he asked, “Arya?”
Her head snapped to the mirror and she stared at him with teary eyes. Inside the orbs Eragon noticed a sense of relief when she saw him in the mirror, which perplexed him. In an undertone she said, “What is it, Eragon?”
“I wanted to see how you were doing, and to check if Nasuada was looking for me.”
“Nasuada is looking for you. Thrice already she has come to me and asked me to find you, but I refused.” With a pause she added, “And I am fine, Eragon.”
Eyebrows raised Eragon observed, “You don’t look fine.” When she did not reply he added, “If you want you can join Saphira and me. We are a ways east of the Varden, in a small swath of trees.”
“I would like that.”
“I’ll have Saphira pick you up in a few minutes,” Eragon said, pleased that Arya would be joining him. Thinking about her and helping her solve her problems would keep his mind away from his own, which is a relief that he would welcome when it came for he had not slept in three nights, something anyone who looked at him could tell.
With a nod Arya agreed and ended their contact. Eragon quickly informed Saphira of Arya’s wish to join them and the dragon took off immediately, heading towards the Varden’s camp.
While Saphira was retrieving Arya many of the emotions and memories of Oromis and Glaedr began to return to him as she wasn’t there to suppress them. He began crying again, long rivers of tears rolling down his cheeks, as he beheld memories of him and Oromis spending the day training together on the Crags. As such when Saphira landed and Arya lowered herself to the ground and approached him, he was still crying. In a way he was embarrassed by his tears in front of Arya, but reasoned that she out of all people would understand his loss the most.
Saphira padded over to Eragon and curled up a few feet behind him; Arya took a seat next to Eragon and glanced at him briefly. Eragon now noticed that Arya had not stopped crying, at all. The tears were still streaming down her face with more intensity than her own. The magnitude of her distress pained and surprised him for he had not realized that his death would have that serious of an impact on the usually emotionless elf.
In as comforting a tone as he could muster Eragon asked her, “Arya, why is it that you are this saddened by their deaths? I know you were close with them but I never imagined that they meant so much to you.”
“I now have nobody left!” Arya exclaimed still sobbing. Eragon looked at her with confusion, what was she talking about? As far as he was concerned he was still there for her, and so was her mother.
Determined to lessen her pain in any way possible Eragon said in as soothing a voice as he could muster, “That’s not true, Arya, and you know it.” He reached up and wiped the tears from her face as he said, “You have your mother, you have Saphira, and,” here he hesitated due to the promise he made at the Agaeti Blodhren. Forgoing the potential consequences he finished, “And you have me. Even if the whole world turned against you I would stand by your side.”
Eragon was surprised when Arya suddenly started crying even worse than before and threw herself onto Eragon, holding him as though he was her life’s energy. He looked down at the elf who had wrapped both of her arms around him and buried her head in his chest, crying uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around her and using one of his hands he set to work stroking her hair. Eragon held Arya close for a long time, so long that he began to notice the sun sinking below the horizon.
Arya’s sobs seemed to decrease slightly as time went on and eventually Eragon asked, “Arya?”
“Yes?”
“Are you alright now?”
“No, I’m not. Eragon everyone that grows close to me dies.” She resumed sobbing, even more intensely than the first time.
Eragon patted her back and said, “You can’t blame yourself, Arya. There was nothing you could have done.”
“I could have stayed away.”
He was beginning to grow irritated with Arya’s actions. Could she not realize that he would always be there for her? A question struck him that he thought might help Arya. In a curious, but cautious voice he asked her, “So is that it then? Will you chose to stay away from me now, Arya?”
“I…I,” Arya sobbed. “I care for you too much to do that, Eragon. But…if you ask me to leave then I will leave.”
With a shake of his head he answered her quickly, “No, Arya. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay; I want you to be there with me.”
“Are you sure?”
He sighed and said, “Arya, even disregarding the feelings I have for you, I still value you as a close friend and would rather march into battle than endanger that friendship.” His words seemed to have the desired effect on Arya as her breathing began to slow and her eyes started to dry.
To Eragon’s surprise even after Arya finished crying she remained locked in his embrace. It was a terrible feeling for him, knowing that the love of his life was resting in his arms but he couldn’t even say it. Yet at the same time he felt somewhat strange. Even in her distress Arya would not let someone hold her as she was with Eragon unless she considered them a true friend. The realization countered any negative effects that not being with her created and sent a warm feeling throughout Eragon’s body.
Pretty soon Arya fell asleep due to exhaustion, yet she still clung to him. In a bemused tone he asked Saphira,
Do you think I should lay her down, or do you think I should just leave her as she is?
Give her what she wants, came the reply from Saphira. Eragon awkwardly lied down, attempting to avoid Arya waking up, and slowly drifted off into his waking dreams.
This post has been edited by HBomb: 05 December 2009 - 08:02 PM
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