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This story may be offensive to some as it contains homosexuals, suicidal thoughts, and, possibly, graphic torture. Other than that, it should be clean, no curses, no sex.
It will also not be told from Eragon POV. Ever. Period the end.
So, without further ado:
Chapter One: Flawed
It was a chill autumn evening, and a brisk breeze blew a lone figure’s cloak. They were standing atop a rise a mile away from the Varden’s camp. On an evening like that, people generally stay indoors, or at least shiver, for wind like that slices through clothes with ease.
The figure did none of those things; however, it just stood there and cried quietly.
Two years, thought Arya as she watched the Varden alone from the hillock. Two years since Durza stole from me the last person I truly cared for. Since He died nothing has been the same....
I am breaking inside, no longer am I the ‘flawless diamond’ He said I was. I am broken.
Though now, this way, I suppose I am more of a diamond the ever. At that thought she laughed, though not her normal, beautiful laugh, but the bitter, self-mocking laugh of one who has lost everything. Oh yes, I am every inch the diamond now! I am cold and hard, have many sharp edges, and am beautiful beyond compare. Everyone covets me, but not one of them wishes to be me.
She watched a man, who was returning from a scouting party, outstretch his arms to catch his young daughter, who was overjoyed at his safe return, and was suddenly filled with malice, thinking, And why should they wish to be as I am? I am utterly alone, always I am the outsider. None may relate to me for none can ever truly know me without becoming me, and that, that is impossible, for they cannot possibly lose all that I have, and for that, for their happiness, for their love, in those wonderful moments that make life worth living, for an instant I hate them. I hate them for having what I do not, can not, have.
Then the moment was over, and she regretted those thoughts, thinking to herself, I truly am breaking, the diamond that was once priceless is now flawed, and a wave of sadness overcame her as she sank to her knees and began to cry, as only those who have died inside can, thinking of all she would never, could never, have.
Her heart-wrenching sobs of pain and loss went by unheard by the Varden, but in the twilight a lone male figure heard the sound, and it broke his heart to see her tears of diamond spilled.
Arya lost herself in her grief, thinking of those who had left her behind, her father, Faolin, and one other.
And, just as her sadness threatened to overcome her, she felt a familiar hand touch her back, and heard a familiar voice.
"Shhh, Arya, do not cry, all will be well,” his voice held that all-too-familiar lilting cadence that he had always possessed.
“No, it will not, it never is….” Was Arya’s reply, it came in a small voice, chocked from crying, and utterly devoid of hope.
“Yes, it will. It always does is the end. Remember the story of Sarah, who vanquished the vampire who had, through causing her to believe he was a wonderful, harmless little boy, taken her friend Anne Marie prisoner that you said your father used to tell you when you were a child that you liked so much?”
Arya nodded slightly in response, her eyes, after her curling in a ball, though barely visible, were starting to dry.
“Well, if she, as a child, could defeat the odds and find hope where there was none, then why can you not do the same?”
“Because I have no wise wolf-companion Nessie, nor, indeed, any companions at all, save for a ridiculous shadow who enjoys quoting fairytales,” came her dismal reply. “Though you do remind me quite a bit of Him sometimes….”
“Well then, you should not be so forlorn, just close your eyes and act as if this were Him, talking to you now.”
Arya did so, and, as she listened to the sound of that voice, His voice, she relaxed, while the shadow talked to her about anything and everything he thought of.
After about an hour, she was once calm once again, so she took her leave, heading back to camp, back to the dull monotony of her day-to-day life, and the cold, dull, lifeless thing she called her heart. Happy to have escaped it all, if only for a short while.
And back on the hillock stood her shadow, watching sadly, one hand outstretched as if to call her back, dismayed that he had not been able to tell her….The words upon his lips, and then;
“Good night, Ninbein….”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, that is all I have for today, but there is much more to come!
The fairytale is an inside joke between the authors, don"t ask.
@Mor'ranr; TOWNAN will kill us when she sees our little 'fairytale' won't she?
This post has been edited by Eleria: 16 October 2009 - 06:34 PM
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I'm next. 
I can't wait to read the next one!
Me so stupid! I was gonna go on earlier, but I decided to sleep. GAH!!! Stupid sleep-y-ness.
